Hi everyone! Here's chapter three! This is my longest one so far - 11 pages and 4,938 words!

To everyone who's been waiting for this chapter - I am sorry! Fanfiction has been having some sort of error going around, and it wouldn't let me update!

Disclaimer: I kind of doubt that J.K Rowling would be on writing George/Hermione fics, but for the sake of argument, no, I am not, nor have I ever been J.K Rowling. Peace out everybody!

A HUGE THANK YOU to everyone who has story alerted, story favorited, author alerted, or author favorited this story or me! And of course THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed!

Anyway, enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 3 – Gringotts and Boutiques

There was no doubt about it. I was going through firewhiskey withdrawal. How else do you explain the fact that when I got back to my flat, all I did was stalk around it, breathing heavily, feeling way too energized for my own good?

I hadn't been able to drink from the bottle. Her face kept swimming in front of me, her words still ricocheting through my head. It sounded as if she was ready to give up on me. Somehow it made me feel even worse, because she was the one who had been the most concerned. She was the one who cared enough to even come and check on me.

All right, I knew that wasn't completely true. Fred and I were identical. Looking at me would be like looking at a reflection of him, and I was sure my family would struggle with that, the same way I would fight against my sanity when I finally saw them again, seeing at the people who wouldn't be able to look me in the eye, or even be in my presence without running out of the room sobbing.

Naturally, these rather depressing thoughts didn't do much for my energy level.

I decided the only thing to do was to get some good exercise in. Hadn't I just been thinking earlier that my body was going to pieces? This was the perfect excuse! Maybe I could kick the alcohol habit and instead become an exercise addict. I liked that idea, and decided that that was definitely something to aim for.

So I changed out of my jeans and t-shirt and pulled on an old pair of gym shorts and an even older t-shirt from a Weird Sisters concert that I had stolen from Bill's room. I couldn't remember how he had managed to afford to go to that concert. Hmmm…maybe he had snuck in…

I laced up my running shoes, did a couple of stretches to warm up the muscles in my legs, and took off back outside.

I ran up and down the street, through the criss-crossing roads, and dodged through alleyways. I ran long and hard, feeling my feet ache every time they hit the cobblestones, my chest heave when I drew a breath, and my heart pound out a furious rhythm. But it was the best I had felt since the Battle of Hogwarts, and I was thrilled.

It was very late when I finally returned to my flat. I began variations of sit-ups, worked through arm strengthening moves with dumbbells, and did a whole bunch of stretches to help improve my flexibility.

It was nearly three-o-clock when I finally crawled into bed – I mean onto the couch – but for the first time in quite a while, I was happy. It was also the first time in over a month that I was actually going to bed, rather than passing out completely wasted.

Of course, the next morning completely sucked.

I was going through withdrawal again.

I also had a splitting headache and a growling stomach and the only thing I had in my flat was a half-eaten bag of potato chips. Not exactly nutritious, but it was a start.

Once I had torn through the bag of chips, I immediately began to go stir-crazy, just as I had the night before when I had gotten home for dinner. But I ached all over from the intense workout, and really wasn't in the mood to put my body through that torture again for at least another day.

I was just beginning to pace the flat again when there was a knock on the door.

Yes! Something to do!

I nearly ran to the door – or I would've if, you know, my legs hadn't felt like someone had taken hammers to them – and threw it open…to see Hermione standing there. She was in shorts and a tank top this time, and her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail.

"Okay you," she said the second she saw me. "We're getting rid of all of your alcohol."

I stared at her. "And how do you know I'm clean and sober?"

"I was…er…standing outside with Ron last night and we saw you run by. If you were drunk you wouldn't have been able to move like that. And now…you look much better, like you actually give a damn whether you're a total mess or not."

"Thanks for the compliment, you're a real charmer," I informed her.

"I'm not here to be complimentary; I'm here to help you. So come on, we're getting rid of all your alcohol, so that you won't be tempted."

"Fine," I agreed, and stood back to let her in. "But just so you know, there's no point, because I'm not an alcoholic."

"Judging by the way your place looked yesterday, yes you are."

And that was when it occurred to me that my flat was no longer a complete and total mess. "Did you and Ron clean it up?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact we did."

I couldn't decide whether I was touched or creeped out. "Why?"

"Because we couldn't bear to see you living in a total dump."

I decided I was touched.

"Oh…well…thank you."

She smiled. "Not a problem. Now come on, let's get your firewhiskey bottles thrown out."

"And what, pray tell, are we going to use to throw the bottles away with? I don't have any garbage bags."

Her smile widened. "Didn't you tell me yesterday that I'm the brightest witch of our age?"

"I was drunk."

"Not the point. Here, I'll show you." And she conjured several bags of some sort of shiny, soft material out of thin air.

"What are those?" I asked.

"Plastic bags."

"What's plastic?"

"It's – never mind, it's a muggle material, but that's not the point. Come on, grab every single bottle of alcohol you have, and put it in here. And when we're finished, I'm going to go back through and double check to make sure you're not hiding any under your bed."

"You are really suspicious," I told her.

"Just part of my charm."

We went through my flat together, grabbing bottles from all of the nooks and crannies I had stored them in over the past month. It took nearly two hours, and another two bags, but finally we were both satisfied that my flat was an alcohol-free-zone.

Once Hermione had used her wand to vanish the bags, she smiled in satisfaction. "Good, you should have a lot more room now that the firewhiskey bottles are gone."

I tried for her sake to grin in appreciation, but all I could manage was a grimace. Was there anything like holding a nice hot bottle of firewhiskey in your hands, knowing it was only you and the bottle, and that before long you would be a nice, wonderful numb?

"Now," Hermione said in her infamous no-nonsense tone of voice, "it's time to go shopping."

"Shopping?" I whimpered. "Please tell me you're not going to drag me to Mistress Witch's Outfitters – or worse, Master Warlocks!"

Hermione smirked. "You're in luck, there isn't any clothes shopping on the agenda. Instead, we're going to get you food – actual food, not just chips and ice cream."

"They're food!" I protested as she summoned my wallet (I knew I should have put an anti-summoning spell on it) and stalked out of my flat, prodding me to dash after her. "Potato chips are made out of potatoes, and ice cream is made out of milk and a bunch of other stuff."

"Yes, but it's unhealthy."

"I'm twenty years old, I can take it!"

"But you'll be regretting it when you're forty years old, now hurry up, we haven't got all day!"

My God, she was bossy. Whatever had I done to be made into one of her charity projects? Whatever happened to spew – I mean, S.P.E.W? Time to find out.

"Hey," I said as we hit the cobblestones. "Whatever happened to S.P.E.W? Back in school you were pumped for it, but I haven't heard you mention it once."

She shot me something that resembled a glare that hadn't quite progressed to adulthood yet. "Oh, I'm still working on it, but I've been busy. Sadly, my attention has been focused elsewhere."

"You know," I said hurriedly, "if you want to focus on S.P.E.W rather than, say, me, I would completely and totally one-hundred-percent understand. No, seriously, the house-elves need you more than I do, you'd be doing the world a favor by forgetting me and my problems and helping those poor ug – I mean adorable – house-elves out of enslavement."

She smiled sweetly and patted my arm. "Don't worry George, I would never abandon you! You're more important, you're practically family. I'm going to help you through you're problems no matter what!" she finished with determination, fist raised to show her resolve.

Once again, my would-be grin made my face look completely contorted. I probably resembled a tall, thin, red-headed goblin. "Thanks," I managed to choke out, and she patted my arm again.

"You're welcome. I assure you, when we're finished, you'll be almost as good as new."

Not as good as the original product, but nearly. Apparently when she was finished with her Give-George-A-Makeover project, I would still only receive four stars because I would be a used item, rather than a new one. That's the way to help someone out of their depression!

"Er…where are we going?" I asked a bit apprehensively. I wasn't sure I wanted to know where she was going to drag me, because I had a feeling that if I found out I might need to request a barf bag.

"Gringotts first, and then we'll go from there," she answered, and sure enough, within a few seconds we came within sight of the wizarding bank.

"Are you even allowed in there?" I asked, suddenly struck by another burst of inspiration. "After you and Ron and Harry broke in?"

She shrugged. "We had to give the sword back, but we were pardoned, since we did it in order to save the world from Voldemort."

"And the goblins accepted that explanation?" Now I really was interested. Goblins were sticklers for rules with 'absolutely no exceptions!' How many times had Fred and I been chased out of there because we had been trying to get a loan from the bank so that we could begin our joke shop? That was before Harry won the Triwizard Cup and handed his prize money over to us of course. But before that…I'm pretty sure Fred and I were on the goblins' list of lock-the-doors-and-windows-if-you-see-these-people. We might even have made number one. Well, maybe number two, after Voldemort. Ah, beautiful memories…

Hermione pressed her lips together into a grim smile. "Let's just say the goblins had some persuasion from some of the wizards who worked there. I think a couple of aurors might have been there to – ahem – oversee proceedings."

I stopped right there in the middle of the street, just feet from the steps that would lead up to the bank, and spun around to look at her, giving her my best steely-eyed gaze.

"And since when do you, Hermione Granger, protector of all creatures, approve of bullying goblins?"

"It – it wasn't bullying!" she insisted, her face a mask of horror. "I swear! There was no violence or underlying threats except for the – the – the – "

"The aurors there," I confirmed.

"But it wasn't like they were doing anything. They were just the security guards, to make sure things didn't get out of hand. Plus Griphook was one of the goblins at the meeting, and he betrayed us! He was ready to throw us in Azkaban, never mind that he had helped us break in and that Harry had saved his life. Of course," a spark of triumph seemed to gleam in her large brown eyes and a slightly smug lip turned the corners of her mouth up, "he was ranting and raving so much that eventually he got thrown out of the meeting. At least, that's what Bill told us."

I immediately perked up. "Bill was there?"

She nodded. "I suppose you wouldn't have heard. Yes, he was there. He got promoted there, you know. He's now training the newly-recruited curse breakers before they head off to Egypt or wherever else they're excavating at the moment. I think there might be a few pyramids in South America, and they think they might have found the real Dracula's tomb, but that's still up in the air. But it looks like if they really did, then Bill might get shipped over to Transylvania, because they'll need as many experienced curse-breakers as they can get, since Dracula's not exactly known for being a sweetheart."

"How's he enjoying it?" I wanted to know. "Teaching? He never struck me as someone who would want to instruct other people, he was always very hands on." We began moving again, up the stairs.

"Oh, he loves it, it's probably just going to be a temporary position, but they need people instructing the newer people, because they keep finding places that have heavy curses on them. Some courtesy of Voldemort, but it's like now that he's gone, all of these places that have been hiding are able to come back out now. Maybe he hid them or something, he probably had use for them at one point.

"But you're right," she continued on, "he misses the action and danger of breaking curses."

"But I bet Fleur's happy," I commented as we walked in through the doors and into the marble hall.

Hermione shrugged. "She's glad he's safe, but she also knows that there are days when he's frustrated with the lack of action, and that's something she understands, she's a bit of a risk-taker herself." She paused. "We're all having a hard time adjusting from being in danger twenty-four-seven for nearly a year to being safe and not having to worry about an attack on our lives. If one of us walks into a room without knocking first, we'll find half a dozen wands pointed at us."

I choked back a laugh at that. I could imagine it very clearly, and even though the reasons for the paranoia weren't humorous, the mental image was.

We reached the long counter and stopped in front of a goblin who was chewing on what looked like uncooked ground beef mixed in with raw liver and steamed onions. And this is why very few goblins run successful restaurants. Excuse me, could I get a raw hamburger please, with a side order of liver and onions? Oh, and could you leave the liver uncooked? I'm trying to poison myself, and I hear this is a good way to do it. Thanks, you're darling.

The goblin raised his lip back in an ugly sneer when he laid eyes on Hermione and I automatically put my hand on her waist to draw her closer to me. She looked a bit frightened. Not that I could blame her, those goblins were even more hideous when they were counting the ways they would like to kill you. Never mind the reason why they want to kill you is because you saved them and their race from slavery. Nope, you just stole something from one of the evil wizards who would have used them as a whip sharpener.

Makes sense, doesn't it?

I cleared my throat and the goblin tore his tiny eyes away from Hermione. "Mr. Weasley," he hissed. "How – nice – to see you."

I got the feeling that when he said nice, he meant something else entirely. Probably something along the lines of why couldn't you be killed in the Battle of Hogwarts so that I don't have to deal with you anymore? Always nice to have positive reactions.

"Yeah, you too," I answered, even though I couldn't have told you what his name was to save my life. "Anyway, I'm here to get some money out of my vault. Er – Hermione, you have my wallet. My key's in there."

"Oops, of course," she amended quickly, pulling the key out of the wallet which she still clutched, and slid it across the counter to the goblin, who picked it up and held it to one of the oil lamps, as if he thought we had made a copy in order to break into my own vault.

"Of course, right this way." He hopped out from behind the counter and led us down the corridors to where the carts were waiting for us.

I nudged Hermione in the side. "Keep an eye on him," I muttered in her ear. "He might be plotting to lock us in one of the vaults."

"I don't think he could," she responded just loud enough for me to hear as we climbed into the cart. "As long as it's your vault, you'll still be able to get out."

I opened my mouth to say something else, but at that moment, the cart lurched forward and the next second we were hurtling down the tracks, twisting around pinwheel turns, plunging nearly straight down at one point, and taking so many turns to the left and right that I was soon very dizzy.

I felt something sharp digging into the veins of my right hand and cut my eyes to Hermione who was clinging to my hand, her eyes squeezed shut, her other hand – the hand that wasn't currently breaking through the skin on my hand – holding on for dear life to the side of the cart.

That's right – Ron had once mentioned that she hated heights and anything that had to do with them.

I squeezed her hand right back and spent the rest of the ride down there trying to figure out how to comfort her without getting my hand ripped up by her talons.

We must have been riding in that cart for a good ten minutes before we finally came to a sudden – and rather painful – stop in front of Fred's and my vault. Hermione went sliding into me, and I grabbed her before she ended up straight in my lap. I had the distinct impression that Ron might not like that.

"Come on," I coaxed her. "We need to get out of the cart, you'll feel better once you're on solid ground."

I helped her out of the cart as the goblin looked on, tapping his foot impatiently. Whatever happened to that old theory? You know the one – the customer is always right. It was such a good one, but I guess goblins didn't think wizards were ever right, even if we're the reason they're rich.

"About time," the goblin snapped. "How on earth did she manage to help defeat the Dark Lord if she can't even manage a ride down to her boyfriend's vault?"

"Well, you weren't involved in the defeat," I replied coolly. "And she's not my girlfriend, my younger brother's going out with her."

The goblin glared at me, but inserted the key in the vault's lock and twisted. At once the door melted away. Hermione pulled a small drawstring bag out of her purse and handed it to me. I took it and darted into the vault and began stuffing galleons, sickles, and knuts into the bag, trying to do it as quickly as possible – I didn't trust that goblin.

The ride back up to level ground was a little better, except for the feeling that at any second the cart might lose momentum and we'd pummel back down to the very bottom of the bank.

Hermione and I were both shaking as we got out of the cart and proceeded to make our way out of the bank. After the darkness of the lower levels of Gringotts, the sunshine was almost as bad on my eyes as it had been when I had left my flat for the first time the day before.

"Where to next?" I asked Hermione as we stumbled down the steps and back onto the cobblestone pavement.

She checked her watch. "Actually, I never had breakfast, and it's still early enough for lunch. Why don't we head to The Hungry Hippogriff and get something to eat?"

I nodded. "That sounds fantastic. All I've had is a half bag of potato chips."

She smiled. "I thought it might have been something like that."

She led the way through Diagon Alley to the outdoor café, a couple of streets over from where the Unicorn Room stood.

"Have you eaten here often?" she asked as we walked down the cobbled stone street, blinking in the bright sunshine.

I nodded. "I used to come here with Fred for lunch when we were working on a new product. It was nice to get out of the shop once in awhile."

Hermione nodded. "I can imagine."

We sat down at one of the outdoor tables and signaled for a waiter to come over.

"So you and Ron huh?" I commented as I opened a menu and began scanning through the lunch specials.

"What?" She looked up at me.

"You and Ron are officially dating?"

She blushed rose pink. "Yeah, we are."

"About time. We've been telling Ron to get his arse in gear for ages. It's about time he finally took our advice. Honestly, he was the only one who couldn't see what was right in front of him. Well, anyway, you have my blessing," I added, smiling at her. "What in Merlin's name are you blushing for?"

Her face turned even redder. "N-nothing."

I rolled my eyes. "Wha – did you think I was going to ask about how far your relationship has progressed? I might ask Ron that in private, but I'm sure as hell not going to ask his girlfriend. That would be wrong on so many levels I can't even think about it. You know," I continued on, trying not to laugh, "if you blush any deeper your face is going to be on fire."

I had never seen a brunette turn that deep of a red, but somehow Hermione managed to.

"Shut up," she told me before hiding her face behind the menu while I rocked with laughter.

It took me a few minutes to calm down, but I finally did. "So what're you going to get?" I asked

her, trying to change the conversation topic before she hexed me into one of those vaults in Egypt with a mutant skeleton.

She reappeared from behind the menu. "The split pea soup sounds fantastic."

I nodded. "That's always a good choice here. I think I'll have that too."

I waved for the waiter to come over to our table and we placed our order. Once the waiter was a safe distance away I leaned forward and said in a low voice, "I feel like I should give you 'the talk' about my brother."

"What talk?" she asked, looking alarmed.

"Well, there might be some things I should warn you about."

"Besides the fact that he's a slob, eats with his mouth open, and uses all the hot water up?"

I stared at her. "Er…"

She waved her hand. "Please George, I lived in a small, cramped tent with him for nearly six months. I should know him pretty well by now."

I had to hand it to her – she had a point. And if she still wanted to be with him despite all of his faults and tendencies, then it must be true love, and who was I to stand in the way of that?

The waiter brought our soups along with a breadbasket and a bowl of butter and we both immediately reached for the food.

"So what're you planning for the upcoming year?" I asked as I spread butter over a piece of white bread.

"I'm going back to Hogwarts, to finish up school," she answered. She blew on a spoonful of soup before gingerly taking a sip.

I dumped nearly half a container of salt and pepper, each, over my own bowl of soup and took a bite myself. Absolutely worth the five galleons it was going to cost me.

"Why am I not surprised?" I said teasingly after I swallowed. "I suppose you'll be awarded head girl as well."

She blushed again, but she looked rather flattered instead of embarrassed. "Oh, I doubt it. I wasn't there last year, I'm sure there'll be someone else who'll be made head girl. Luna perhaps."

"She missed half of the last year," I pointed out. "If you don't end up head girl, it'll half to be someone who was there the entire year."

She tilted her head in agreement. "What about you? Have you thought about what you're going to do?"

I paused. "I dunno. I think I'll continue the joke shop, if only to honor Fred's memory. But I'm going to try to expand it."

"You'll need help in that case. Perhaps you could ask your family…?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson. Maybe I can get Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell to help as well."

"Why Angelina?"

"She was dating Fred before he died."

Hermione's face crumpled. "Oh…I didn't know that…poor Angelina…I can't imagine what she's going through!"

I bit my lip. In the month since Fred's funeral I had barely thought about Angelina, and it had never once crossed my mind how much pain she must be in. I would have to visit her soon, if nothing else but to lend my moral support.

"You should expand the shop out to Hogsmeade!" Hermione suddenly cried. "I don't think anyone has bought the building that Zonkos used to be in. Hogwarts students are going to need a new joke shop, if for no other reason than to torment Filch."

I chortled. "I'll think about it. Maybe I'll do that."

"Yeah! And if you do, I can help at the store in my free time!"

"Since when does Hermione Granger have free time?" I asked in mock surprise.

She stuck her tongue out at me. "Yay or nay George."

"Neither. Let me think about it. But I am tempted."

"Good. Expanding the joke shop might be just what you need. Maybe you could move out to Hogsmeade instead of living in the flat here in Diagon Alley. You need new scenery."

"Yeah, cuz it's not like I spent seven years of my life in that area," I retorted.

"But it'll be a change of pace! Come on George, you have to do this!"

"I said I'll think about it and I will," I promised her.

We finished our food and then she insisted on dragging me to every store that sold anything that she thought might liven up the flat. This meant that I was forced to wander through Madam Monique's Boutique (yes, that is the real name – catchy right?), tracking my way through a jungle of lamp shades and bangled scarves while doing my best to hold my breath so as not to breathe in the heavily perfumed air.

"Merlin's beard Hermione," I said softly as she pulled me over to look at new bed sheets. "It's like being back in Trelawny's classroom."

She ignored me and instead asked me my opinion on a set of striped bedding.

By the time we left the shop – I mean boutique – I was laden down with new sheets, a new bedspread, a new rug, several new oil lamps, and enough scented candles to send Trelawny over the edge in ecstasy.

With a wave of her wand she sent the packages back to the flat before grabbing my hand and apparating us into muggle London, right outside a grocery store. She yanked me in through the automatic doors (yes, I know what they're called – my dad loves anything that has to do with muggles and electricity, remember?) and snatched up the nearest cart. Once inside, she pretty much did my shopping for me. All I was required to do was trail along behind her with my hands in my pockets, daydreaming about new products for the store.

She paid for the groceries and once we were in an empty alley transported them back to my flat as well.

"Well," she said as she turned to look at me. "I guess that just leaves one more thing to do."

"Which would be?" I prompted her nervously.

"George," she said gravely, clapping a hand on my shoulder, "it's time to see your family again."

Oh fuck.

So...what'd you guys think? How am I doing on George's character so far? I don't usually write fanfictions from first person, so I'm a little curious as to how well I'm writing George's character. So let me know what you think! I love hearing from you guys, and I appreciate every single review that comes in! =)

Lots and lots of love,

Science-Fantasy93 ;)