Eat Your Heart Out by WeasleyForMe

This is another little story about Hermione and George. How can food help George win Hermione's affection?

I don't own these characters… I'm only playing with them. :)

By the way, Cornish pasties are little pies filled with meat and vegetables.

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It was a well known fact that the Weasley men were very fond of eating. They loved the delightful dishes that their mother would make when they were at the Borrow. They loved the food that the house-elves at Hogwarts would make for meals in the Great Hall. They even loved the candies at Honeydukes Sweetshop. So, it was really no surprise that Fred, George and Ron would be having an argument about eating.

"I think that the house-elves make a mincemeat pie that rivals Mum's," said Ron from his plush armchair in the Gryffindor common room.

"That's a bunch of bollocks, Ronald. Mum's pies are like a treat sent down from the gods for us to feast upon," replied Fred as he lounged on a loveseat.

"If anything, I'd say that the house-elves outdo themselves when they make Yorkshire pudding," said George, quite dreamily.

"Yeah," sighed Fred and Ron in unison.

"Oh, and don't forget about Mum's boiled potatoes. I could eat them until I exploded," said George.

"But the absolute best thing is the breakfast feast that we get every Christmas morning… how many more months is it until Christmas?" Fred asked his brothers.

Just then Ginny, Hermione, Angelina and Alicia came in through the portrait hole.

"It's eight more months until Christmas, Fred. What are you guys talking about, anyway?" Ginny asked her brothers.

"We were discussing food: home-made versus Hogwarts-made," Ron told her.

"Honestly, is food the only thing that's ever on a Weasley's mind?" asked Angelina.

"Hey! I only think about food at breakfast, lunch and dinner!" griped Ginny.

"Well then, is food the only thing that's ever on a male Weasley's mind?" rephrased Hermione.

George looked thoughtful and replied, "Of course not, Hermione! We only think about food ninety-nine percent of the time. The other one percent is reserved for thinking about lovely ladies such as yourselves. Except for you, Ginny." Hermion blushed.

"Whatever," Ginny replied as she started for her dorm room. "It's a wonder that you guys aren't obese. I don't even want to think about an eating contest between the three of you."

"An eating contest…." began Fred, as the girls headed upstairs. "That's a fantastic idea! The three of us could have an eating contest!"

"Mmm… that sounds like a wonderful idea," said Ron as his stomach growled.

"What would be the point of having a contest? What would we win?" asked George.

"Well, the loser would have to do something embarrassing. Let's see here… I've got it! The loser would have to write a love poem for the girl they like and read it to them in public!" replied Fred, with a devilish smile on his face.

"That is completely unfair!" returned George, looking rather upset. "Ron, Lavender already knows you like her; in fact, you are dating! Who cares if you write her a love poem?!"

Ron just shrugged at his older brother.

George then turned to Fred and said, "And Fred, it's quite common knowledge that you and Angelina like each other, but won't admit it. You've actually already written an embarrassing poem for her, and read it to her before a Quidditch match! I'm the only one who has a crush that doesn't know I like her!!"

"Well then, Georgie-pie, I guess you'll just have to make sure you don't lose. That way your precious little crush will never have to know," Fred told him with a terribly mischievous look written all over his face.

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That night at dinner, Ron, George and Fred sat in a row on one side of the bench at the Gryffindor table. The three of them were stretching their arms and flexing their muscles as if they were about the run a marathon.

"What in the world is wrong with the three of you?" asked Ginny from across the table. "Why are you acting like professional Quidditch players before the World Cup?"

"Because we are about to embark on a dangerous and perilous journey. We are going to have an eating contest," replied Fred with a very serious look at his sister.

"An eating contest? Are the three of you mad? You'll end up in the infirmary for sure," said Hermione as she placed her napkin on her lap.

"The best part is," said Ron, "The loser has to write a love poem and read it to the girl they like by tomorrow night. We all took an oath."

All of the girls laughed at this. Deep down, Angelina knew that if Fred lost, there was a good chance she would receive a poem sometime the next day. Lavender knew that her Ronald was crazy about her, and she really hoped she would have a poem coming to her.

"That'sreally embarrassing! I almost feel badly for the girl who will have to endure some poetry written by one of you," said a smiling Hermione.

George gave her a funny look as his stomach sunk a little lower. Just then, the food appeared on the table.

"Alright, Alicia is going to mediate the contest. The one who eats the most Cornish pasties before the end of dinner will win. The one who eats the least is the loser, and he'd better start writing some poetry," Fred told his brothers.

"Ready, then?" asked Alicia. "Start!"

In an instant, Ron, Fred and George began to pile the little meat pies onto their plates. It was really a magnificent sight watching the three of them pacing themselves for the thirty minutes of endurance eating they were about to face. Fred was shoving whole pies into his mouth one at a time. George was attempting to cut them in half first, and Ron was dipping them in gravy "to slide them right on down."

Some of the other students began to realize what was going on, and they started cheering for the Weasley boys. George was on his eighth pasty, and Fred was starting number nine. Ron had eaten an impressive ten pasties by halfway through dinner. It was quite a sight to behold the redheads who loved food so much as they appeared to be worshipping their dinners. They all had very determined looks plastered on their faces.

"Wow, they really look determined. Aww, George looks adorable with crust hanging on the corner of his mouth! What? Where did that come from?? I'm really losing it!" thought Hermione as she promptly bent her head toward her plate.

"It's good to see that you boys are finally concentrating on something. Too bad it's not your studies," Angelina said.

"I foud fonentrade oan shool woak ip I wanned tho!" said Ron, his mouth full of food.

"Allow me to translate. I believe he said he could concentrate on his school work if he wanted to," Ginny told the girls. Ron nodded his head vigorously.

"Wow, Ginny. That was an impressive translation! How did you know he said that?" asked Alicia.

"Believe it or not, I've actually endured many meals quite similar to this one while I was growing up," sighed Ginny with a sad look on her face.

With only five minutes left to go, the boys were showing no signs of slowing. Fred was at twelve pasties, George was at eleven and a half, and Ron was at fourteen.

"Time's almost up," said Alicia. "George, you'd better finish that one. I'm not going to count half eaten ones."

When dinner ended and the food disappeared, the boys were gripping at the table as if in pain. Ron was moaning and clutching his stomach. The girls were laughing at them.

"I'm ready to announce the winners!" said Alicia. "In second place, with fourteen pasties is Fred! In third place, with thirteen is George, and the winner is Ron with an impressive seventeen pasties!"

Most of the students were cheering for them as Ron threw his fists in the air and smiled. Fred was also grinning wildly as he rubbed his flat tummy. George, on the other hand, was completely beside himself. How did he fall so far behind the others?

"Well, Georgie-boy, you'd better find your best quill and get to work! Won't your lovely lady be ever so surprised when she hears of your undying love for her?" Fred told him with a big slap on the back.

"Don't worry George, we won't tell her who she is. We'll let her be good and surprised come poetry time," said Ron, grinning wildly.

George rose from his seat and headed out of the hall, looking like a man who had received his death sentence.

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By later that evening, word had spread to most of the students that George was going to have to read a love poem to his crush. Many of the girls in each of the four houses were very much hoping it would be them.

George hid in his dorm room until very late in the evening. He was writing his poem and barely getting through his punishment. His mood was only slightly brightened by the sound of Fred clutching his stomach and moaning in pain about the terrible belly ache he was enduring. How was he supposed to write a poem for the most wonderful girl he'd ever met? She was very likely to hear it, laugh in his face, and then tell him what an idiot he was.

"This would be a lot easier if she weren't so blasted close to perfect," he mumbled to himself. "Oh well, I'd better just go with my instincts, instead of trying to woo her."

When George finally got to bed, he had nightmares all night about Cornish pasties chasing him around the castle, reciting sickeningly cheesy poetry to him.

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The next morning, he was a bundle of nerves. He was so panicky, he couldn't even eat breakfast. Fred and Ron opted to skip breakfast, as well. They were still recovering from overeating. George carried his poem around tucked in his robes all day. He was dreading the moment when he would see her and have to read it. Besides, he was beginning to get longing glances from a number of other girls. He really needed to get this over with as soon as possible, before his head imploded from the pressure.

Later that evening, most of the Gryffindor students were in their common room playing games or doing school work. That's where he finally saw her, sitting at a table and writing an essay for her Potions class.

"You might as well go do it now, George," Fred said with a sympathetic look.

George stood up and slowly made his way over to stand next to her. He removed the folded parchment from his pocket, took a deep breath and cleared his throat. Alicia, Lee, Hermione, Ron and a few others turned and looked at him as he began to read his poem:

"Your name is kind of funny and you really like to learn,

But, the way I feel about you has me really quite concerned.

You make me short of breath. I then forget my name,

Hermione, my dear, I know I'll never be the same."

When she heard her name, Hermione's jaw dropped in amazement. George's poem was forher? She saw that he was blushing furiously as he made brief eye contact with her. A few other students began to whisper around her as he returned to reading:

"You're much smarter than any other girl I've ever met,

You understand my jokes, and I'll bet you look good wet.

You resemble a goddess with curly chestnut hair,

I can't believe I'm reciting this… it really isn't fair.

You're way to close to perfect, for a silly bloke like I,

I'd really like to kiss your lips… I'm not going to lie.

If you return my feelings, I'll make one guarantee,

You'll never again have to endure bad poetry from me."

Somewhat shakily, George finished his poem and folded the parchment without looking at the object of his desire. Most of the girls in the room were holding their breath to see what her reaction would be. Hermione could barely remember to breathe.

"I can't believe you said that to me, George," Hermione finally said. George sheepishly raised his eyes to her face.

"I'm really, really sorry Hermione, but I had to do it. I was bound to an oath. Please don't hate me for liking you," replied George in a sad, quiet voice.

"I just really can't believe you said that. It was the nicest thing anyone hasever said to me," Hermione told him with a brilliant smile. She was far too happy to be embarrassed.

George was positively gobsmacked. She actually liked the poem? She actually liked him? He barely even noticed Hermione stand up and place a hand on his shoulder.

"Actually," Hermione told him, "You can write me more poetry any time you like." And with that, she pressed herself up on her toes and pulled him closer. She erased the bewildered look on his face with a sweet kiss. It only lasted for a moment until she began to pull away. George was still somewhat baffled.

"There is one condition, though," Hermione said as she looked into his green eyes. "No more eating contests."

"Huh? Why not?" George asked, still confused.

"Because I don't want my hot boyfriend getting too pudgy," Hermione told him with a smirk.

"Boyfriend?" he asked.

"Yes, boyfriend. Do you have a problem with that?" Hermione asked the stunned looking George.

He replied hastily, "No, no, not a problem at all… I think I can definitely work with that." Then he pulled her into his arms. The common room erupted into cheers as they kissed once more.

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