Seven Sleepless Nights by WeasleyForMe

With swirling thoughts and a hectic schedule, Hermione finds herself unable to sleep. When George shares his secret with her and keeps her company, she finds another, sweeter reason to stay up late.

Thanks to Clover Bay for allowing me to utilize her amazing beta skills!


Tuesday Night

Ever since she had woken in the Common Room on Tuesday morning, Hermione couldn't seem to keep a smile from her face. She had been on the crimson loveseat, wrapped in a strange blanket, lying on someone else's pillow when the chime of the clock on the mantel woke her. As she wriggled herself out of the green and blue plaid quilt, she saw the initials GW embroidered into the corner in orange yarn, and she snuggled back into George's blanket until it was time to get ready for breakfast.

But, she had yet to see George all day. He hadn't been at breakfast, and Hermione had to skip lunch to finish a Charms essay. Now she was sitting at dinner, anxiously looking for George while she picked at her plate of roast chicken. It wasn't like a Weasley twin to miss a meal. Now, aside from wanting to thank him and return his quilt, she was a little worried as to what could keep him enjoying from a delicious Hogwarts meal.

She leaned slightly across the table, trying to get Fred's attention away from Angelina. "Hey Fred," she finally called. "Where's George?"

Fred shrugged and buttered a large dinner roll. "Haven't seen him since Potions this afternoon. I'm sure he'll show up eventually. He doesn't do well without food. But why are you so interested, Granger?" he asked, popping the roll into his mouth with a smirk.

Hermione just narrowed her eyes at him and settled back in her seat before taking a bite of chicken. She wasn't that interested in George. Was she? If she were being honest with herself, she would admit that he had managed to take up a good amount of her thoughts for the past few days. Blushing, she let her fork clatter against her plate, and she left the Great Hall.

It couldn't be a crush or infatuation; she and George had rarely spoken before Sunday evening, except for the occasional detention that she was forced to assign to the twins. Forcing the thought from her mind completely, she stopped in the library.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," the librarian whispered as her favourite student approached her desk.

"Good evening, Madam Pince," she whispered back with a smile. "I just need to return this." She set Purely Potent Potions on the edge of the desk. The book had really saved her a lot of pain after her detention, because she had referenced it to help her make Essence of Murlap to heal the Umbridge inflicted cuts. Shuddering slightly, she bid Madam Pince farewell and returned to the Gryffindor Common Room.

As was usual for every other night, Hermione worked and worked as the crowd around her quieted and dwindled until she was the only one left seated by the fireplace. The only difference was the complete lack of George. She was certain that he would surface, broom in hand, ready to sneak out of the castle, and she couldn't help but look up every time she heard a floorboard creak.

As the clock struck midnight and she closed her Potions book in favor of Transfiguration, George ducked in through the portrait hole. When she saw him, her heart jumped. "George!" she called happily to him.

Frowning, he met her eyes and paused on his way to his dorm room. "Oh, hey Hermione."

Her heart sank as she watched his mirthless face. He wasn't even remotely happy to see her. "Everything all right?" she asked, the smile completely gone from her face.

"Ah, no, actually. I think I'm just going to head to bed." He held his left hand delicately against his sweater vest, avoiding further eye contact. When his school bag slid from his shoulder, forcing him to catch it, he winced and dropped the bag.

Hermione jumped up to help him retrieve his things, and she froze as she saw his hand. "You had a detention with Umbridge, didn't you?" she asked pointedly.

George cleared his throat awkwardly and tucked his hand behind his back. "What are you talking about?" he asked, neglecting to meet her eyes.

Hermione sighed. "I'm talking about the cuts all over the back of your hand which you are now hiding from me." As George's eyes snapped up to meet her own, she realized her tone had been a little harsh. "I had a detention with her last week," she told him gently, holding up her hand for him to inspect.

George ran his right fingers along the back of her hand, softly rubbing the raised, red lines that matched Hermione's handwriting. "Why is she doing this to us?" he whispered. Their gazes met, and wordlessly, they both felt the understanding they had inadvertently stumbled upon with each other.

"I don't know. It's wrong, and it's cruel," she hissed, forcing back tears as George held his own hand up for her to examine. "George! These gashes are so deep!"

He nodded and let out a puff of breath as she poked his skin a little too hard.

"Go sit on the loveseat, and I'll help you get rid of the pain," she instructed, picking up his school books and setting them on the long table.

George didn't move. "Why are you helping me, Hermione? I got the detention for testing a Skiving Snackbox product on a first year from Hufflepuff."

Hermione's hands flew to her hips. "You know better than to do that! And, I'm helping you, because Umbridge is a heartless, malicious beast! Now sit!" she exclaimed, marching off to her dorm room.

Afraid to be doing anything other than sitting on the loveseat upon her return, George sat, examining his hand. He had written My inventions are rubbish for three hours while Umbridge drank tea from a pink tea service and rearranged her collection of kitten plates. He was furious and in so much pain, but at least he had been able to spare Fred. But now that he knew just exactly what went on in her detentions, he was afraid to tell his twin about it. Fred would somehow manage to blame himself.

"You might as well get comfortable," Hermione announced when she reemerged from the girls' rooms. "This is going to take a little while."

She set a number of potions ingredients and a large bowl on the small table next to the loveseat. She had also changed from her school uniform into her pyjamas and robe. "Anything you say, Miss Prefect," he replied as she started to combine some horrid smelling liquids in the bowl. He pulled his sweater vest over his white dress shirt and loosed his tie until he was able to discard it as well. When he started to unbutton his shirt, however, Hermione's focus went completely out the window.

"What are you doing?!" she hissed, nearly dropping the murlap.

"Getting comfortable," he replied, pulling his shirt off and tossing it onto the floor. "Just like you said." He settled into the cushions with a wink, wearing his school slacks and his undershirt.

"Oh, ok," she responded after a moment of staring at the way his chest and shoulders pulled the fabric of his shirt taut. "Um, what happened in your detention?" she asked quickly, trying to change the subject. When he merely raised an eyebrow, she added, "I just want to know if it was anything like the excruciating hours I had to serve."

George nodded as he told the tale of his detention. He didn't spare the details of the amount of blood that had pooled on the desk, realizing that Hermione had been in the same situation. "She has no right to be in our school."

"I agree completely, George. Now give me your hand," she told him, having finished preparing the Essence of Murlap. George placed his rough hand in her tiny one, trusting her to help him rather than make it worse.

"Sweet bloody Merlin!" he gasped as she immersed his hand in the bowl of steamy liquid.

"Sorry! The burning won't last more than a few minutes!" she promised, making sure his torn flesh stayed covered in the green solution.

George bit his lip, willing the pain away, and after a few minutes he was able to talk normally again. "Who helped you after your detention?" he whispered after taking a few deep breaths.

"Nobody," she replied.

George stared at her, amazed at her confession. "You learned how to treat the wound yourself?" After she nodded sheepishly, he winked and added, "Who would have guessed that Hermione Granger had more going for her than her looks! Smarty pants."

Hermione glared at him, blushing deeply as she stood, leaving his hand to soak. "Don't move."

George opened his mouth to call her back, hoping he hadn't embarrassed her too much, but she had already disappeared again. He wasn't kidding too much; he really did think she was cute, and she was obviously the best student in the school. He sighed and waited for her to return, which didn't take too long. She set down a tray containing first aid materials and a glass of water.

"Take this," she told him, handing him a while pill and the glass of water. "It's a muggle pain killer."

He did as he was instructed, and she settled down beside him on the seat. "So I'm guessing I won't be able to go flying tonight?" he asked sadly.

Hermione snorted. "Not unless you want those nasty cuts to open up again, and then I would be forced to make more Essence of Murlap and help you heal them again."

The prospect didn't actually sound too bad to him, as he would be able to spend more time with her. Then again, he didn't relish the burning sensation that went along with the potion. "You make a good point. I'll behave myself…for now."

"You couldn't if you tried."

"You know me too well." They shared a smirk and settled into a comfortable silence, listening to the fire crackling. Lost in deep thought, George lost track of time until the clock chimed two in the morning.

"I think you've soaked for long enough," Hermione told him. She stood and gently dried his hand, and he was pleased to find that most of the pain had subsided.

George marveled at the skill with which she covered his hand in a gooey aloe gel and wrapped it in gauze. "Have you ever thought about becoming a Healer?"

Hermione grinned at him as she pinned his bandage in place. "Actually yes, I have considered it."

"You ought to. I like your bedside manner," George told her with a large grin.

Hermione giggled and pulled him to his feet. "You should get to bed. And take the aloe with you."

"Yeah, probably. But all kidding aside, thanks for your help, it really means a lot to me," he told her sincerely.

As he turned to pick up his bag, Hermione promised him that she didn't mind helping him in the least. "Oh, and before you go, thank you for the use of your quilt and pillow," she said, reaching behind the loveseat to retrieve them.

George slung his bag over his shoulder and shook his head. "Why don't you hold onto them for now? You'll have something to keep you warm while you stay up entirely too late doing your school assignments."

Hermione hugged his blanket and pillow to her chest and nodded. "Thanks George."

As he took the stairs to his room, Hermione sat down once more to finish reading chapter sixteen in her Transfiguration text. Once her eyes started to close, she snuggled up with the plaid quilt and fell asleep.


Once again, thank you so much for reading! As always I'm interested to hear from you, so if you have any thoughts or ideas for upcoming chapters. let me know! :)