Chapter 2: room on the 3rd floor

Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to Harry potter.

2005A/N: Thank you to my 4 reviewers so far. It is 19 days till my 19th birthday eek! I hope you enjoy this chapter guys I am really enjoying writing this story.

2012A/N: Thank you to my 526 reviews so far. It is 8 months till my 27th birthday… wish I could stop ageing. I hope you enjoy this chapter (Calling people guys is something I hope I've grown out of) I am really enjoying editing this story Dudes… also just to clarify this story does not in any way adhere to many of the original books. I march to the beat of my own drum… I can't help but feel like a time traveller right now.

Hermione sat silently on her bed, tears welling to her red puffy eyes. She could hear Harry, Ron and Ginny playing happily in the garden, throwing water on each other in the hot sun. They laughed loudly and with every guffaw seemed to forget their friend on the third floor, even though she'd only been there for four days. The past four days had all really been a blur; the initial fever had first hit her on the night she had moved into the room. In her delirious state she had spoken to her mother and father about her life plans, she longed to be delirious again just so she could see them once more. Mrs. Weasley had floo'd up cold cloths and Dr Bergs: Icy temperature reducer, George had silently administered care to her; he being over the initial fever could easily help Hermione. Her body burned, steam rose from her tiny frame and no matter how hard he tried she seemed to not want to cool down.

George was pretending to be asleep; he thought Hermione would need time alone after her fever. She had been talking out loud to her dead parents about how she did not want to marry yet, about how much she loved them then she told them they should visit more often. The grown man had fallen to his knees and wept once she had drifted into a deep sleep. He had been lucky; not one member of his family had died during the Great War, he had received a nifty scar on his hip but that didn't bother him: chicks dig scars you know. He could not comprehend how hard it would be to loose one of his parents never mind both of them in the one night in front of his eyes unable to help them.

About a year ago Hermione had been sneaking back home after meeting Ron and Harry for a drink in a Muggle pub to celebrate her 17th birthday. She was wearing Harry's invisibility cloak and had been standing outside the French windows which led into the living room of her parent's terraced house.

She saw the two hooded men sneak up behind her parents as they watched the cowboy film, the volume turned up high, blared from the new sound system her father had purchased. The taller hooded man cast a silencing charm around the room so that screams her parents emitted would not be heard and the cries and screams she would emit would not penetrate the sheet of glass separating her from her dying parents. She watched in horror as the two men tortured her mother and father, taking them to the brink of death and then bringing them back a little so that they could torture them over again. Hermione's mother had begged for her death as the death eaters asked over and over again: "Where is the mudblood witch?" her parents silence had been that of bravery, they could have told the men that Hermione was in her bed like they thought she was but they did not answer the men, as they cursed and beat Mrs Granger while Mr Granger was forced to watch. Hermione's Parents had truly died heroes; while Hermione in vein had kicked and banged on the locked window. She wished that she had not gone out, she may not have been able to save them but at least she would have died with them.

When the death eaters had left and the dark mark had been raised above the Grangers house; the order had arrived to find the grangers soaked in blood, and the words; "Mudblood witch, you will be next!" written in her mother and father's blood on the wall. When the order arrived Hermione had remained screaming at the French windows. It was not until Dumbledore had removed the charm the death eaters had placed that all of their ears were penetrated with Hermione's shrill scream.

George Weasley had run out into the back yard, his arms stretched feeling randomly for Hermione's figure; he had been with her that night celebrating her birthday. When he heard her scream everything had fallen together in his mind, he realised almost straight away that she had seen the whole thing hidden only by the sheer fabric of the invisibility cloak. When his frantically wandering hands found the invisible girl he had grabbed her struggling frame holding her tightly in a wide armed embrace.

Hermione had spent a short spell of time in St Mungo's receiving psychological treatment, she had been in shock for over a week, not talking, not eating and barely breathing. George had visited almost every day; she refused to see anyone else. He had seen her at her most vulnerable and so her being in the loony bin couldn't be any worse, her totally warped brain had used this logic for the weeks she spent in the hospital.

When she had been released she fell back into her regular routine finding peace in her studies, her soul being soothed by her schedule and her friends surrounding her with the love her parents would have given her. She knew that no one would replace them but she also realised that the thing that would disappoint her parents the most was her giving up and so after the ordeal she was ten times stronger and everyone noticed the powerful, motivated young woman who walked into the great hall, her whole persona exuded supremacy.

She was a woman on a mission and everyone knew it. Her new found determination in life had led the order to Voldemort and helped destroy the tyrant. It didn't stop there though, after the war had been won she started a campaign to encourage wizards to use his name, she spoke to people about their losses and helped them find their inner strength as she had done and she had continued campaigning for the rights of House elves. She was noted as a valuable member of the wizarding community by everyone who knew her and many who did not. Hermione Granger was set to be the minister of Magic by her thirties.

Hermione woke from a restless sleep, it was dark outside she turned over and was shocked to see George looking straight at her as if he had been staring at her. She gasped; she had not turned expecting the curtain to be pulled back never mind George staring at her.

"Hello!" he said smiling.

"Are you delirious again George?" She asked warily.

"I'm not sure, are you really talking to me?" she answered his bizarre question by promptly throwing a pillow at him.

"I'm not delirious no!" he said cheerfully as he grabbed the cushion in mid flight, his beaters reflexes clearly had not been dishevelled by his virus.

"how did you get sick?" he asked suddenly realising he had no idea how Hermione had contacted the virus.

"You don't remember?" she asked smiling.

"Oh god did I do something embarrassing when I was feverish?" he asked burying his head in the pillow Hermione had thrown at him, secretly inhaling her scent.

"Well it was all really sudden George…" she said looking serious, "Of course I accepted and we did it straight away." She said looking at him sternly, mocking anger in her tone.

"What did I do just tell me." He said groaning.

"You asked me to marry you and I did, we eloped I didn't realize you were sick until after the ceremony. I can't believe you've forgotten." She said wiping a fake tear from her eye.

"WHAT!" he yelled as he jumped out of the bed stubbing his toe on the bedside table, he subsequently tripped and landed at the foot of Hermione's bed, cradling his foot in his hand. Hermione clutched her stomach and laughed hysterically. As she did she raised her wand and uttered a silencing charm on the room, so that she would not wake up the Weasley's.

"I'm joking George, You came in delirious and kissed me then told your mum that you were in love with me, then you told her that if you couldn't kiss your girl when you had "THE FEVER" then when could you" Hermione laughed as George cringed a little more at each of his actions.

"Oh god Hermione I am so sorry. I can not believe I did that. Are you really angry at me for making you sick?" he asked doing his best puppy dog eye impression, but he ended up looking like a lunatic.

"I forgive you George" she said as she bent to pat him on the head.

"God us married Imagine." He said with a sigh and a slight laugh.

"What's so bad about marrying me?" She asked, real hurt in her voice this time.

"I would love to be married to you… I mean no I wouldn't… of course I would… what I meant Hermione is that I would piss the hell out of you." He said getting flustered and going redder if that is possible.

She just laughed at him then uttered in-between her gasps for air: "Yea you are a bit of a pain in the arse!" he jumped on her straddling her knees, he did the thing that annoyed her most; he tickled her. He tickled her hips, under her arms and her stomach; he knew the exact spot that made her laugh so hard she nearly pissed herself. She laughed and snorted and even shouted; "George… Please stop… I'm going to… pee my pants!" he only stopped when she let out a scream of shock.

"Hermione what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, he hoped he hadn't hurt her.

"Your face George!" she uttered.

TBC