Chapter Four
Author's note: Not mine, JK's – Sorry this is a very short chapter, but I hope you like it regardless. Will update soon. PS. The Anne of Green Gable references in the previous chapter were the owl named Gilbert [after Blyth], the raspberry cordial [a drink Anne and Diane enjoy], and that Ginny was wearing two braids [since she, like Anne, has red hair – that one was pretty weak, I know.]
Ginny's bedroom hadn't changed much since Hermione had spent time living at the Burrow after the final battle, sharing the room with Ginny. The old bed in which she used to sleep still stood in the same corner of the room. Ginny's old Quidditch posters were still on the walls and many of the same pictures adorned her night table. Hermione contently flopped into her old bed while Ginny perched on her own.
"How's work, Mione?" Ginny asked, tossing aside Quidditch playbooks that were taking up a good portion of her old, patchwork quilt. Ginny had been playing with the Holyhead Harpies at the Chaser position for the past few years. Hermione giggled instinctively at the realization the Ginny would frequently be competing with her older brother; the Harpies were in the same division of the same league as Puddlemore United, the team that George had recently joined.
"Meh, it's alright," Hermione responded noncommittally. "How's the team?" She asked, pointing at the wall-sized, Holyhead Harpies' banner that had adorned Ginny's room for years.
"It's great!" Ginny declared animatedly. "I think that we're going to have a really strong team this year. A really good chance to take the league…" Ginny continued excitedly in a rapid stream of chatter about her Quidditch team. Hermione did her best to keep up with her friend's descriptions of her team, their plays, and their upcoming season. Quidditch was never something she really managed to understand, but she smiled and nodded, nevertheless, knowing how important the sport was to Ginny.
"And you and Harry….how are you two?" Hermione questioned as soon as Ginny stopped to take a breath, causing a pause in her Quidditch talk.
"We're great," Ginny's smile was introspective, "Still going strong….Wouldn't be surprised if sometime soon…" Ginny added cryptically and waved her left hand in front of her suggestively. "He's doing well…loves his Auror work. And you? Any blokes in your life, Mione?"
"Erm…" Hermione feebly answered. It had been some time since she had gone on her last date. In the beginning of October she had gone for dinner with a young man with whom she used to work in the Department of the Care and Control of Magical Creatures. It hadn't been particularly noteworthy and hadn't even resulted in a second date. "No…not really…not at all…" She muttered. Fortunately, Ginny seemed to have sensed that the conversation was a nonstarter with Hermione and abruptly changed to topic to gossip about their former classmates. While Hermione generally considered herself above the speculation about the lives of others, she, nevertheless, liked hearing what her old friends and acquaintances were up to and Ginny was always on the pulse of such news.
The two young women chatted for the reminder of the morning and into the afternoon, the conversation drifting between news of friends, recollections of tales from their Hogwarts days, Ginny's family, Harry and Ron's Auror work, the twin's shop, and recent changes within the Ministry of Magic. Hermione never ran out of things to say when she was with Ginny; breaks in their conversations were rare, as one topic always seemed to lead seamlessly into another. Every time Hermione had the chance to be around Ginny, she regretted how long it had been since they had seen each other last. Even if only a week had passed between when they had last seen each other it felt too long for Hermione. With the demands of Ginny's Quidditch schedule and Hermione's work, often much longer would elapse between their paths crossing. Also, Harry had a tendency to tag along with Ginny whenever she and Hermione would meet up. While Hermione obviously appreciated her friendship with him, Harry's presence always managed to frustratingly cut in on her girl time with Ginny.
When Ginny glanced at her watch and mentioned that it was time to get ready for dinner, Hermione was shocked; it hadn't seemed that they had been talking for that long.
"Hey, I'm going to get ready for dinner" – Ginny mentioned, slowly sitting up on her bed – "Why don't I meet you downstairs?"
"Yah that sounds alright," Hermione replied. She reluctantly rolled off of her old bed, not wanting to leave her comfortable prone position. "See you down there, Gin," She added. Stifling an absentminded yawn, Hermione left Ginny's room and closed the door behind her, allowing her friend to change in private. She started to lazily amble down the hallway towards the steep staircase that led to the Weasley's main floor.
"Hey Mione! How's it going, mate?" A familiar voice yelled at her from the other end of the hall.
"Oh hey George," Hermione replied, turning to greet the Weasley twin who had called to her. "Oh, er," Hermione stammered; the sight of him had caught her off guard. Having evidently come directly from the shower, George was wearing only low slung jeans and a rust-coloured towel draped casually around his shoulders. His damp hair was slicked back carelessly and his bare chest still glistened with shimmering water droplets. Hermione tried not to notice how much his physique had benefited from his obviously grueling Quidditch training and practices. His hip bones jutted out suggestively over the waistband of his jeans, his shoulders were broad, and his arms boasted muscles Hermione was not accustomed to seeing on other men. She also noticed that he had several irregularly-shaped bruises of various shades on his torso and wondered if they were injuries from playing Quidditch. "Erm, h-how are…er…how's it going, George?" She hastily asked, straining her neck to force herself to maintain eye contact with him, willing her line of vision not to drift down to his exposed and chiseled chest.
"Oh, it's pretty good," George replied in a laidback tone his blue eyes shining amicably. Hermione envied his coolness; she found herself feeling only more tense as he approached her along the hall. "I'm really glad you made it," He continued, rubbing his head vigorously with the towel that had been around his shoulders, causing his disheveled hair to stick up haphazardly around his head. As he lifted his arm to dry his hair, the muscles surrounding his upper arm bulged noticeable. Hermione bit her bottom lip and felt her face grow flush. She worried that her cheeks had taken on embarrassingly tell-tale blush. It would be appalling for Hermione if George was aware of how her heart had started beating increasingly rapidly as he made his way down the hall, stopping to stand right beside her. If George was privy, however, he didn't let it show. He stood effortlessly, his broad shoulders slightly hunched to bring himself closer to Hermione's height while he continued to dry his hair with his towel.
"W-well, ah…thanks for the invite, George," She said in as lackadaisical tone as she could muster giving the dryness of her mouth, hoping that he was unable to detect the slight strain in her voice. Entwining her hands behind her back, Hermione attempted the coolest posture she could imagine: leaning against the wall.
"Hey, think nothing of it" – he grinned – "We're all happy you're here,"
"Yah? Well…ah…I-I'm p-pretty glad to be here too," Hermione stammered. "Er…so…how was the rest of your welcoming party the other day?" She asked, referring to the previous week when she had seen George at the Leaky Cauldron with his Quidditch team. She tried her best to smile casually. Self-consciously, she twisted a stray strand of hair around her forefinger, stopping when she realized that she probably looked as if she was trying to act flirtatiously.
"Oh, Mione" – George chuckled ruefully – "When Quidditch blokes go out to party, they go out to party. I didn't get back to my flat until the wee hours of the morning and I'm still not entirely sure how I made it home…I think I still might be feeling that night." He shook his head contritely, causing his now-dry hair to sweep across his forehead.
"Well…I'm glad we decided not to tag along with you guys…I definitely can't handle those types of nights…" Hermione replied, finding it amusing that she was carrying on a relatively normal conversation with the shirtless George.
"Oh, I think we would have had more fun if you were there, Granger," There was something rather attractive about George's grin. Something about the combination of his smile, his compliment, and his lack of shirt left Hermione feeling infuriatingly flustered. She recalled that she was supposed to be on her way to the Weasley's living room and figured that she could use that as excuse to leave the awkward situation.
"Ah, George. I should get going. See you downstairs in a bit."
"Yah, sure thing…see you later, Mione," His reply was friendly and easygoing. He turned to enter the door to the room that Hermione recalled he used to share with Fred.
"Ahh…" Hermione fumbled, trying to decide whether to say something to his retreating, well-built back before settling on saying nothing. She continued her walk down the hall to the stairs. "Ugh, keep it together, Granger…you've known him since you were kids…even though he's clearly not a kid anymore…obviously…" Hermione gave herself a mental reprimand as she descended the steep stairwell that led towards the Weasley's living room. It wasn't much like her to act silly around young men. Also, she knew better than to blatantly ogle others, especially not men with whom she had grown up, even those who had become remarkably good-looking. "Remember not to lose your head around fit blokes:" the gentle, but sometimes necessary, reminder had been scribbled in her notebook almost a year ago; the last time she had acted foolishly around a handsome gentleman. She continued chastising herself over the silly and inane way in which she had reacted to George – one of her oldest friends, nonetheless – the rest of the ways down the stairs, through the corridor and into the living room.