September 22nd Prompt: I'm not sure where to begin...
When Fred had first told George of his infatuation with the little bookworm, George didn't believe him. He had looked Fred up and down for a moment, cocked his head to the side, taken several deep breaths... then burst out laughing. It had to be joke, right? But when Fred wasn't laughing along with him, George had repeated the first few movements, but instead of laughing, he asked one question: "Why?"
She wasn't his type. Hermione Granger was in any way similar to girls that he usually went for such as the pretty, fit, funny, easy-going Angie. She wasn't anywhere near the same as sexy, girly, easy Daphne. She was simply Hermione - a girl they'd both known for what felt like ever that always seemed to be going out of her way to either save someone's life or get herself killed - usually a combination of the two.
Despite this, Fred seemed to know the answer to the question. "Well, there's her looks, brain, personality..."
"Start with her personality," George interrupted. "I hear enough about her brain as it is and don't need any disturbing images about Hermione Granger's body, thank you very much."
