Disclaimer: If I were JK Rowling, I wouldn't be writing this. I'd be working on my next bestselling novel. Or, be still my heart, a compilation of all her Harry Potter notes. I'd die to read those…

A/N: This picks up where the last chapter left off. All cozy on the couch. I'm sorry this took so long, especially when I promised it to you months ago, but I had a bit of a mental block with this story, and it was hard to knock it down. I'm still chipping away…

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Two empty bottles of butterbeer sat in Hermione's line of vision. She was firmly ensconced in George's arms, her back flush with his chest. His steady breathing made the hair at her temple flutter. She refused to move, because if she did then the spell would be broken and she would have to go back to the Burrow and he would have to go back to London, and the content perfection of this moment would be shattered. Although, she wouldn't turn down a kiss…

All hopes of that were dashed by a redheaded whirlwind that saw fit to throw himself into Hermione's lap.

She let out a surprised, "Eeep!" and George said, "Oi! Fred, get off her."

Fred only grinned devilishly and made himself comfortable. "Hello there, Hermione. Is my other half treating you well?"

"Yes," she said archly, "Unlike someone who looks remarkably like him."

"Well, I'm very happy you two managed to sort out whatever you had to sort out. George here has been a sodding wet blanket since you went missing. No fun at all. Stomping around the shop, scaring all the ickle kiddies. Scaring away paying customers, I might add."

"Oh, shut up, you prat."

Fred ignored him and carried on, "Took me forever to get him to fess up. Poor broken-hearted Georgie," Hermione felt George huff behind her, "Of course, when I found out what, nay, who was bothering him so, I took it upon myself to cheer him up, but nothing worked. Not even when I spiked his firewhiskey with our new giddy serum. No, I haven't seen my brother so much as smile until today when Mum flooed and said that you three were back. Do you know what he did after that, Hermione? He dropped everything he was doing, which was making a batch of acne vanisher. Just left it there over the fire. Do you know what it did? Melted the cauldron, and proceeded to eat straight through the floor. There's a great gaping hole in the workroom now. Terrible safety hazard."

Hermione glanced up at George who was grimacing, "Did it really?"

"Yeah. Thought we could reproduce the effect somehow. Might be useful for something."

"Hmm…" Hermione could practically feel the wheels turning in his head. She rolled her eyes.

"Lovely to have you back though, Hermione. Lovely to have my twin back as well."

"Thanks, Fred," she said.

"Sure. Just don't corrupt him with your rule-abiding ways. That's all I ask… although a ménage á trois wouldn't be disagreeable…"

Hermione shoved him, though she and George were laughing, and he fell roughly to the floor, knocking the butterbeer bottles over. Fred laughed and dusted himself off.

"On that note."

"Yes," said George, still smiling, "Get the hell out of here."

"Are you leaving too, Fred?" asked Harry, who along with Ron, had been drawn over by the commotion.

"Yes, I can see when I'm not wanted."

Harry took in Hermione and George's cozy arrangement and said, "I imagine none of us are wanted."

Ron made a face, and said, "I'm going home."

"Oi, Ron, wait a minute," said George, extracting himself from the couch and Hermione. He pulled Ron away from the others, and Hermione watched them anxiously.

Harry plopped himself down next to her. "You know, he's fine with the whole thing."

"He is?"

"Yeah. He reckons George is better than Viktor Krum… or Cormac McLaggen." Hermione shook her head in exasperation. Would she never live that down? It was nearly as embarrassing as the Lockhart debacle.

"What's this about McLaggen?" asked Fred curiously.

"Nothing!" she said, "It's nothing!"

Harry laughed, "That's not what it looked like to me."

Hermione glared, and Harry held his hands up in a gesture of submission.

George and Ron returned, shoving each other good-naturedly. Hermione sighed in relief. Neither of them were bruised or bleeding, so the conversation must have gone well.

"We should go back Ron," said Harry, "I told Ginny that I'd fill her in on everything."

"Going to violate our dear sister some more, Potter?" asked Fred, in a tone that was teasing and threatening at the same time.

"I do not violate Ginny," he said indignantly, and then added with a smirk, "I do whatever she tells me to do."

The boys groaned, and Hermione laughed.

"Ugh!" said Ron, "If you weren't my best mate I'd hit you."

"If he weren't the Chosen One I'd hold him down for you," added Fred.

"Well, at least something good has come from that," Harry replied, and tossed a handful of floo powder into the fire. The three boys chorused their goodbyes, and left one by one through the green flames: two to the Burrow and one to London.

"Everything okay?" Hermione asked George, whose gaze was fixed on the fire.

"Yeah, he said if I hurt you he'd Avada me."

"Oh."

"No worries, love. I've no intention of hurting you," he grinned and gave her a quick kiss. "Personally, I'd have come up with a more unique threat."

Hermione stood and fisted her hands in his shirt, "Did you really miss me that much?"

George grinned and bit his lip. "My more annoying half may have been exaggerating a bit, but yes." He kissed her then, with the slow assurance of someone who knew there were many kisses to come, and she felt as if she was burning. "Don't tell anyone though. It's terrible for my image."

Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck.

"It appears that we're all alone," George murmured.

"It would appear so."

The kitchen of Grimmauld Place was entirely empty. Hermione hadn't even noticed people leaving, though she vaguely recalled hearing Remus bid Harry and Ron goodnight.

"If you think that I'm going to snog you here, then you are sadly mistaken, Mr. Weasley."

"Why ever not, Miss Granger?"

"Because anyone could floo that fire over there, and I'd be highly embarrassed."

"Hm… well, there is somewhere else we can go."

"Where's that?"

"My flat."

"But Fred—"

"Is at Angelina's. He's there all the time, really."

Excuses were running out fast, though she wasn't sure why she was making them anyway. She wanted to be alone with him.

"Come back to London with me," he prodded.

"Your mum is probably waiting up for me."

"Yeah, but she's not waiting up for you. She'd be waiting up to keep an eye on my behavior."

"You must keep her up often."

"Yes, many sleepless nights for my poor mum. But seriously, come back to London with me." He kissed her, and her conscience fell silent, not that she wanted the pesky thing in the first place. He tugged her playfully over to the fire and poured a bit of powder into her hand before she could object properly.

Their flat was warm and inviting. She had been expecting something eye popping, but the motif was a cross between the Burrow and the Gryffindor common room. A large squashy couch and two matching chairs were covered in dark red velvet, shot through with gold threads. An oil painting hung above the fire, and two young lions were stalking prey in an exotic grassland. The lions exchanged a glance, and went in for the kill, and it seemed that their prey was a very frightened snake, which managed to slither away. Hermione's lips quirked at the obvious symbolism, and shook her head at George.

"You're really here," he murmured.

He pulled her along to the couch, and wrapped his arms round her waist before toppling them both to lie on it. Hermione laughed and settled into a more comfortable position on top of him.

"Now," he said in mock seriousness, "you'd best let me know now how far you're willing to let me go before you hex me. I want you very badly, and I'm liable to make an arse out of myself."

"Live dangerously, George," she teased, and kissed his neck.

Thirty minutes of fantastic snogging later, Hermione's shirt was completely unbuttoned and George's lips were kissing a trail between her breasts when the floo glowed green. Fred tumbled onto the rug, made a surprised noise, and promptly turned his back on them.

Hermione hurriedly pushed George away and frantically buttoned her shirt. Good lord, but they had the worst luck!

"Terribly sorry, brother mine," Fred muttered.

George rubbed a hand over his face, and shot Fred's back a glare and an apologetic look to Hermione.

"You decent yet, Granger?"

"Yes, Fred, it's okay."

Fred turned back to them and sighed, "Sorry guys. Ange and I had a fight."

"What happened?" George asked.

Fred threw his hands up in exasperation and said, "I have no bloody idea." He stalked past them to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of firewhiskey. He viciously uncorked it and took a long swig. Hermione winced. Not good.

Hermione turned to George, who was looking at his twin with some concern, and said in an undertone, "I should go. I think Fred needs his brother right now."

"I need you right now."

She smiled softly at him, and said, "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Okay," he said, kissing her lips lightly, "Goodnight, love."

Hermione flooed back to the Burrow, and eyed the clock. It was nearly one in the morning. She tiptoed to the stairs, praying to every god she knew of that Ginny had covered for her tonight. She was only two steps from safety when her hopes came crashing down on her ears.

"Hermione Jane Granger!" said a reproachful voice from behind her. Hermione winced. Mrs. Weasley had waited up for her! She could hear the speech now, "You little vixen. Toying with the affections of not just one, but two of my sons! How dare you? You scarlet woman!"

Hermione turned slowly, "Mrs. Weasley, I—" But it wasn't Mrs. Weasley.

"Ginny!"

Ginny giggled, and punched her playfully on the arm, "Where ya been?"

Hermione glowered, "That was a horrible thing to do to someone."

"Yeah, well, holding out on your friends is a horrible thing to do too. You've got to tell me everything. How long have you and George been having these clandestine meetings anyway?"

"It's not meant to be clandestine…" Hermione said, and Ginny fixed her with a glare, "Okay, fine. I've been wanting to tell you since it happened!"

Ginny laughed gaily, and pulled her into her bedroom. She settled down on her tiny twin bed, hugging a pillow to her chest. "Okay, tell me everything, minus the details that I definitely don't want to hear about my brother."

Hermione laughed, and said, "Okay, well…" and she launched into a highly edited version of the events, beginning with the night Bill and Fleur's wedding and ending just minutes ago.

Ginny was looking at her with a tiny smile on her face, "What?"

"It's just… I don't think George has ever been serious about a girl before."

"I've never really been serious about a boy before."

"Aside from Ron."

"But nothing ever came from that."

"True," Ginny conceded, "How is Ron dealing with all this anyway?"

"Harry says that he's fine with it. And George talked with him earlier, and Ron didn't hit him, so… I guess he's fine. We agreed that we were better off as friends. I suppose I should talk to him properly about it."

"I think he's fine too," Ginny said, "He was totally normal when he came home from the meeting."

Hermione sighed in relief. If Ron was acting normally, then there was probably nothing wrong. He had never been good at hiding his emotions, and Ginny would surely have noticed if something was wrong.

"I'm sorry I broke up your little snog session this afternoon," Ginny said. "I honestly had no idea that George was in there."

"I know you didn't," Hermione said, "What did he say to you when I left?"

Ginny grinned, "Oh, it was really cute, Hermione. I asked what the devil he was thinking, and he said, 'Darling sister of mine, keep your little nose out of it.'"

"Oh yeah, Gin, that's just adorable."

"No, no. And then I pressed him a bit, and he said that he was very much in like with you."

Hermione smiled, "In like?"

"Yes, isn't that cute? And then I tapped his nose and left him alone."

Hermione could only nod. Obviously she had known that George liked her. Obviously. But it was very different and very nice to hear it coming from a third party. There was something official and necessary about it. Not to mention the approval of said boy's sister, and one's own best girl friend.

Ginny squealed a little and hugged Hermione tightly, "You have to marry him, Hermione. I need to have at least one sister-in-law that I like."

"Slow down, Ginny! We've only started officially dating tonight!"

Ginny made a noise that sounded like, "psssht."

The girls continued onto a conversation about Ginny's renewed relationship with Harry. It was nearly three in the morning before Hermione fell, exhausted, into George's old bed.

Tonight had been a very near miss. Mrs. Weasley easily could have been the one to catch her coming back to the Burrow so late, and what then? Hermione grimaced in the dark, and remembered how Molly had treated her when she had believed those Witch Weekly articles about herself and Harry. Something had to be done. She was of age, for heaven's sake, and shouldn't feel like a fourth year sneaking out after curfew. Plans began to form in her mind, and she drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face.

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A/N: Again, I'm sorry this took so long. I only have the vaguest ideas about where this story is going, so I hope you'll all bare with me while I figure it out.