Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own Harry Potter, or anything within
the Harry Potter Realm. That all belongs to J. K. Rowling.
Double Trouble
Chapter One
"Mum!" Hermione scrambled down the stairs, lugging her rather large trunk behind her. "Mum! I'm going to be late!" The last thing Hermione wanted was for anyone to think that she, Hermione Leigh Granger, was late. Why, it was almost blasphemous!
Jessica Granger stepped out of the kitchen, wiping her soapy hands on a conveniently placed dishtowel, and looked at her daughter. The girl had changed, not quite significantly, but noticeably, in the last month. The former bushy-haired know-it-all, was now a poised, if rather impatient, young woman. Hermione's chestnut hair hung about her face in thick waves, her body was no longer childish, and, most importantly, she had an air of newfound confidence. Jessica's eyes grew misty. Her daughter was all grown up.
"Hermione," Jessica began softly, but her voice caught in her throat. Instead, she just pulled her daughter into a bear of a hug, ignoring Crookshanks' hissing and the fact that Hermione was now blue.
"Mum.can't.breathe."
"It's just.you're sixteen now.you've grown so much." Jessica trailed off, releasing the girl, wiping away a stray tear.
"Mum.I'm not moving away. Honestly! It's a month at the Burrow, and then on to Hogwarts." She cocked her head to the side, unknowingly giving her best McGonnagal impression. "The holidays will be here before you know it. That is." Hermione frowned, "If they don't schedule you're conference for then."
"In any case.I want you to be careful. With that God awful maniac wreaking havoc all over the place.I shudder to think of what could happen to you. Don't you go doing anything rash." Jessica locked her pale blue eyes onto her daughter's large cinnamon ones. "Promise me.promise you'll do your best to be careful."
Hermione sighed. Ever since last year, when she was hit with that horrid curse, her mother and father both became a little overprotective. "Of course Mum.how could you think otherwise! Besides, with Harry there to protect me.I'll be fine." What she didn't say was that she was more worried about her parents than herself. Hermione could, at least, protect herself. Her parents were Muggles.they would stand no chance against Voldemort's Deatheaters.
After a few more hugs, and the shedding of a little more tears, Hermione stepped over to the fireplace, happy that Dumbledore had seen fit to connect her to the Floo Network for this one day, so she could make it to the Burrow.
She grabbed a pinch of Floo powder, threw it into the fire, stepped forward, and then shouted "The Burrow." while keeping a tight hold on her trunk and Crookshanks' cage. Everything was lost within a blur of sickening darkness.
A few seconds later, Hermione emerged through the Burrow's fireplace, and right into the lap of one George Weasley. "Oomph."
"Sorry.er.George.I um.just.sorry." Hermione stood quickly, dusting herself off, her cheeks ablaze.
"'Mione?" George looked stunned, then he did a double take, "Hey, how'd you know it was me? Lucky guess?"
"No." Hermione smiled, "You're eyes are set a little closer than Fred's, and you're ears are a centimeter bigger." George gaped at her, still covered in soot from her landing. "Anyway, what are you doing, sitting in front of the fireplace?"
"Oh.Fred's gone to Angelina's and I just thought I'd wait for him." His voice was bitter and he practically spat Angelina's name.
Looks like someone's jealous, a tiny voice in the back of Hermione's head whispered this quiet observation, and she, being who she is, filed this new piece of information away to be studied at a future date.
"So, where are Ron and Harry, they were supposed to meet me." She glanced at her watch, "I'm right on time."
"Oh, they had to go to Diagon Alley, Mum made them. So, I kind of volunteered to be on the lookout for you while I waited for Fred." Hermione blushed a little at this new revelation, then regained her cool.
She gathered her things, Crookshanks had managed to escape by this time, and set about trying to lug the trunk up the narrow stairs to Ginny's room. Unfortunately, or fortunately whichever you choose to look at it, the fates had willed that this would not be, and Hermione found that she could not carry the heavy trunk all by herself. But of course, she wouldn't ask for help, because her pride would not allow it. It is said 'Pride cometh before the fall' and that will hold true in this case, for right at that very moment, Hermione fell up the stairs.
"Erm.Hermione? Do you need help?" George sidled over to the teen, working very hard on suppressing the grin that kept breaking out on his face.
"Do I look like I need help?"
"Would you be angry if I answered with a resounding positive?"
George held out a hand to her, and she took it, albeit rather hesitantly. The moment their skin touched, a shock of recognition sent warning bells off in each of their heads. The only problem? Neither of them realized that the shock of recognition was indeed their lonely hearts calling out for each other. But that, my friends, is for later on in the story, it will suffice to say that they were completely unaware that the shock would come to play a major role later on.
George found himself looking into Hermione's eyes. Wow.how come I've never noticed the way her eyes light up from within? The fire of knowledge burning like a torch, guiding the weary.George pulled his eyes forcefully away from hers. Dammit George, for God's sake get a hold of yourself. Repeat after me.'Mione.is.not.my.type. You're just feeling a little left out. Stupid Fred.stupid Angelina.
Hermione's eyes, on the other hand, were locked on the Weasley Twin's mouth. Who would've guessed that he had such tempting lips? Curled up into a half smile, as if he's enjoying some sort of private joke. She ripped her eyes away from temptation. George Weasley is a troublemaker. He is NOT my type. Never will be.but those lips.
A girl can dream, right?
Because both were so locked within their inner battles, neither of them noticed that they had an audience. Harry looked at Ron and grinned. Looks like the summer wouldn't be wasted after all. Ron returned Harry's look. Both boys grinned, an identical gleam of mischief glinted in both their eyes. They only wanted to see their friend happy, they told themselves. And if that happiness would be with George Weasley, well then, that made it all the more better. It was then that Ron and Harry formed Cupid Inc.
Unbeknownst to them all, the only antagonist to this not even in production scheme was dusting himself off in the fireplace when his eyes locked onto his twin. George?! Bloody hell, is that Hermione?! Wow.she looks spectacular. Stupid Angelina, stupid Oliver Wood. Well, at least now I'm free. Ron won't mind, he's got Lavender. Fred smiled to himself. For once, all three of the boys were in the same state of mind.
Let the Games begin.
Double Trouble
Chapter One
"Mum!" Hermione scrambled down the stairs, lugging her rather large trunk behind her. "Mum! I'm going to be late!" The last thing Hermione wanted was for anyone to think that she, Hermione Leigh Granger, was late. Why, it was almost blasphemous!
Jessica Granger stepped out of the kitchen, wiping her soapy hands on a conveniently placed dishtowel, and looked at her daughter. The girl had changed, not quite significantly, but noticeably, in the last month. The former bushy-haired know-it-all, was now a poised, if rather impatient, young woman. Hermione's chestnut hair hung about her face in thick waves, her body was no longer childish, and, most importantly, she had an air of newfound confidence. Jessica's eyes grew misty. Her daughter was all grown up.
"Hermione," Jessica began softly, but her voice caught in her throat. Instead, she just pulled her daughter into a bear of a hug, ignoring Crookshanks' hissing and the fact that Hermione was now blue.
"Mum.can't.breathe."
"It's just.you're sixteen now.you've grown so much." Jessica trailed off, releasing the girl, wiping away a stray tear.
"Mum.I'm not moving away. Honestly! It's a month at the Burrow, and then on to Hogwarts." She cocked her head to the side, unknowingly giving her best McGonnagal impression. "The holidays will be here before you know it. That is." Hermione frowned, "If they don't schedule you're conference for then."
"In any case.I want you to be careful. With that God awful maniac wreaking havoc all over the place.I shudder to think of what could happen to you. Don't you go doing anything rash." Jessica locked her pale blue eyes onto her daughter's large cinnamon ones. "Promise me.promise you'll do your best to be careful."
Hermione sighed. Ever since last year, when she was hit with that horrid curse, her mother and father both became a little overprotective. "Of course Mum.how could you think otherwise! Besides, with Harry there to protect me.I'll be fine." What she didn't say was that she was more worried about her parents than herself. Hermione could, at least, protect herself. Her parents were Muggles.they would stand no chance against Voldemort's Deatheaters.
After a few more hugs, and the shedding of a little more tears, Hermione stepped over to the fireplace, happy that Dumbledore had seen fit to connect her to the Floo Network for this one day, so she could make it to the Burrow.
She grabbed a pinch of Floo powder, threw it into the fire, stepped forward, and then shouted "The Burrow." while keeping a tight hold on her trunk and Crookshanks' cage. Everything was lost within a blur of sickening darkness.
A few seconds later, Hermione emerged through the Burrow's fireplace, and right into the lap of one George Weasley. "Oomph."
"Sorry.er.George.I um.just.sorry." Hermione stood quickly, dusting herself off, her cheeks ablaze.
"'Mione?" George looked stunned, then he did a double take, "Hey, how'd you know it was me? Lucky guess?"
"No." Hermione smiled, "You're eyes are set a little closer than Fred's, and you're ears are a centimeter bigger." George gaped at her, still covered in soot from her landing. "Anyway, what are you doing, sitting in front of the fireplace?"
"Oh.Fred's gone to Angelina's and I just thought I'd wait for him." His voice was bitter and he practically spat Angelina's name.
Looks like someone's jealous, a tiny voice in the back of Hermione's head whispered this quiet observation, and she, being who she is, filed this new piece of information away to be studied at a future date.
"So, where are Ron and Harry, they were supposed to meet me." She glanced at her watch, "I'm right on time."
"Oh, they had to go to Diagon Alley, Mum made them. So, I kind of volunteered to be on the lookout for you while I waited for Fred." Hermione blushed a little at this new revelation, then regained her cool.
She gathered her things, Crookshanks had managed to escape by this time, and set about trying to lug the trunk up the narrow stairs to Ginny's room. Unfortunately, or fortunately whichever you choose to look at it, the fates had willed that this would not be, and Hermione found that she could not carry the heavy trunk all by herself. But of course, she wouldn't ask for help, because her pride would not allow it. It is said 'Pride cometh before the fall' and that will hold true in this case, for right at that very moment, Hermione fell up the stairs.
"Erm.Hermione? Do you need help?" George sidled over to the teen, working very hard on suppressing the grin that kept breaking out on his face.
"Do I look like I need help?"
"Would you be angry if I answered with a resounding positive?"
George held out a hand to her, and she took it, albeit rather hesitantly. The moment their skin touched, a shock of recognition sent warning bells off in each of their heads. The only problem? Neither of them realized that the shock of recognition was indeed their lonely hearts calling out for each other. But that, my friends, is for later on in the story, it will suffice to say that they were completely unaware that the shock would come to play a major role later on.
George found himself looking into Hermione's eyes. Wow.how come I've never noticed the way her eyes light up from within? The fire of knowledge burning like a torch, guiding the weary.George pulled his eyes forcefully away from hers. Dammit George, for God's sake get a hold of yourself. Repeat after me.'Mione.is.not.my.type. You're just feeling a little left out. Stupid Fred.stupid Angelina.
Hermione's eyes, on the other hand, were locked on the Weasley Twin's mouth. Who would've guessed that he had such tempting lips? Curled up into a half smile, as if he's enjoying some sort of private joke. She ripped her eyes away from temptation. George Weasley is a troublemaker. He is NOT my type. Never will be.but those lips.
A girl can dream, right?
Because both were so locked within their inner battles, neither of them noticed that they had an audience. Harry looked at Ron and grinned. Looks like the summer wouldn't be wasted after all. Ron returned Harry's look. Both boys grinned, an identical gleam of mischief glinted in both their eyes. They only wanted to see their friend happy, they told themselves. And if that happiness would be with George Weasley, well then, that made it all the more better. It was then that Ron and Harry formed Cupid Inc.
Unbeknownst to them all, the only antagonist to this not even in production scheme was dusting himself off in the fireplace when his eyes locked onto his twin. George?! Bloody hell, is that Hermione?! Wow.she looks spectacular. Stupid Angelina, stupid Oliver Wood. Well, at least now I'm free. Ron won't mind, he's got Lavender. Fred smiled to himself. For once, all three of the boys were in the same state of mind.
Let the Games begin.