03. Unexpected: Where George and Hermione indulge in some good firewhiskey and fun at Harry and Ginny's wedding.

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Hermione watched twirling women dance with their dashing partners. The curly hair twenty-odd year old only felt depression at the usually cutesy scene.

All she could think of was how one of those twirling couples should be her and Ron, and that maybe this marriage should have been hers. It was impossible not to think of marrying a guy she had been crushing on for years and then to finally look back at her with a different want that just someone to help with school assignments.

She huffed for the endless time, leaning further on her elbow. Even though this wasn't her wedding, this still was the wedding of two best mates, and she should be smiling till her cheeks hurt. Even her dress looked spectacular (showing Ginny really did love her), the shiny, silver fabric clinging to her body and making quite a few redheaded Weasley relatives keep their gaze on her.

Speaking of the numerous, single redheads all abound, George Weasley came off the dance floor at that moment. He kissed the hand of the young girl he'd danced with (Fleur's younger sister, Hermione believed) and she giggled away. Hermione jumped when he looked over at her before striding over.

He sat down next to her gracefully, and there was only music between them for a few minutes.

"Looks like you've already indulged in the open bar?" he asked as he leaned on an elbow as well.

Hermione shook her head, curls bouncing over her shoulders. She leaned back and crossed her arms before answering, "I haven't had one drink."

"Well there's your problem, grumpy gills!" he laughed as he scooted closer. She barely hid the snort of disbelief as he pulled out a hefty bottle of firewhiskey from the front of his pants. He uncorked the top, took a quick swig with a wince, and then offered it to her.

Hermione had drunk firewhiskey before, but still felt uncertain. When she saw George's gloating grin, her resolve strengthen. She snatched the bottle and put it to her lips, taking a few heavy gulps.

"Slow down there!" George laughed as she began hacking from the burning sensation, "Don't drink me dry just yet!"

"Wouldn't dream of it, George," she said once her voice had returned.

And so begun an afternoon of drinking that Hermione had never experienced before. Soon she found that she didn't want to dance, as her and George just swayed in time in their seats. She heard him singing aloud with the band, but found the she couldn't join in from her rib-cracking laughter. People were moving away, obviously catching on to the quickly diminishing liquid in the bottle, but Hermione found she could care less.

She liked this light-headed feeling and George being funnier than ever. Hermione also liked when his shoulder would jostle hers, or their hands would overlap to exchange the bottle; it felt very nice. Yet suddenly George wasn't laughing anymore as he looked at something over her shoulder.

"Hey, look. I think Ginny wants you to join in the bouquet catching!"

George was in a fit of giggles as he pointed to his younger sister, who was making very aggressive gestures at Hermione to move. Harry stood next to her, looking apprehensively at the squirming mass of females.

"That tradition's just bollocks," Hermione snorted.

"No, it's always right. Enchanted to find the person next," he said with a grin. "Haven't you been to a wizard wedding before?"

"Only Bill and Fleur's wedding that was, you know, interrupted," Hermione said, feeling grim for the first time since George had come over.

"Well, this isn't going to be stopped. Off you go now," George said before knocking back another swig.

Hermione grinned wickedly before she grabbed onto his nearest arm. With difficulty she hauled him up and dragged him over with her. The redhead seemed more entertained by being pulled along than anything else by the way he was laughing and leaning against her.

"I am not suffering this alone," Hermione said as she kept a tight grip on his wrist, even when they joined the mass of jittery females. She tried to sound menacing, but there was a smile that she couldn't resist. It was just itching to spread over her face.

He beamed back down at her. "Why not? I always do enjoy breaking traditions."

Ginny glared at an oblivious George, who waved back eagerly. She only shook her head before she turned around and let loose the clump of flowers.

No one could have guessed what happened next. The flowers flew over the pairs of hopeful hands and slammed into George's chest, almost knocking him over. He lost grip of the firewhisky bottle, and the little remaining spilled as the bottle shattered.

"Oh...my...Merlin," Hermione whispered in her hand before she burst in to a fit of snorting laughter. "It's so like you, to create a scene!" she exclaimed as everyone else just stared in silence.

Hermione felt like she could barely breath, and George's pale face looked like he was having trouble with it, too. His eyes remained glued on the bouquet, as if it wasn't cut flowers but a baby dragon ripping out his heart.

"That was unexpected," he finally voiced out over Hermione's heightened laughter. This made the shocked guests join Hermione in an irruption of laughs.

"Oh, I should've known!" Molly exclaimed as she came running up, "Look at you two!"

"Huh?" they replied in unison, Hermione wiping a few stray tears away.

A grinning Mr. Weasley had the honor of gesturing to how Hermione was still holding George by his wrist. Then, before Hermione could let go, Ginny sprung onto the scene in a fit of squeals at the idea of Hermione being her sister-in-law. She had been more angry at her and Ron's breakup than either of them.

George finally turned to Hermione with a crooked, hopeful grin.

She muttered, through a smile that again wouldn't go away, "Don't push your luck."

Posted: 8.24.2011; Word Count: 1,000

An Ending Note: I've noticed a number of people have this story on alert. So while no one reviews *sniff* it's nice to know people at least read.