A/N: Thank you to all of those who FINALLY decided to review. thats the FOUR of you.
I only updated because someone pm'ed me and BEGGED. I find if really rude when over 100 people read one chapter, but only 4 review. Thank u to thoses for who did. you know who you are!
oh,enjoy this......... NO UPDATE UNTILL I GET 6 REVIEWS, I've already written the next chapter!
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~ Living the life he would want us to lead ~
"If it is to be,
It is up to ME!
(, Laywer, Australia)
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Chapter 4 – Me, Myself and I
Taking a deep breath, Hermione tried to roll over, but hit a warm solid mass instead.
"Urgh, Hermione! Your hair's smothering me!"
In her half-awake state she found herself moving again (against her own volition),ending up face planting what felt like a piece of moist paper.
"Moist paper? How did I fall asleep on moist paper?"
Her eyes slapped open, and she finally discovered exactly what was lying under her head.
The next thing George heard was a horrified gasp, then a violent repetition of "reparo" after "reparo"
"Hermione,......... Stop it, it's too early.... HERMIONE!"
"My "First Folio"!!!.......It's totally ruined............REPARO..... It's not WORKING!!!!!"
The red-head sat up. "Of course it won't work – its only a little drool, it will dry without a reparo's help."
She looked amazed – how did he know? And just when did he become so comfortable with her?
"Look", he sighed as he removed himself from the bed, "It's not a first edition, is it?"
She shook her head, "It'll be fine then".
She went to respond in the negative, but her stomach spoke for her instead. George gazed where the noise had come from."How long has it been since you've eaten?"
"Probably just as long as you". His stomach decided to respond, just as earnestly as her's.
"How about we get out of these smelly clothes and then I'll make some breakfast?"
"Well you don't need to tell this Weasley about food twice" George replied, eyes twinkling over the prospect over a much-needed feed.
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Hermione walked into Molly's sanctuary to find the Ultimate Weasley prankster sitting on the counter sipping a steaming cup of "joe".
"You better have brewed me some Weasley, or by Merlins Beard....."
"Its on the counter! Don't threaten my life yet Granger – it's not even 7am yet. Remember, Murder is soo much easier after midday."
The girl just shook her head at the badly formed joke, and after grabbing the much needed supply of caffeine, joined him on the counter.
For a short while the pair watched the sun rise over the folk of Ottery , till a certain freckled personages stomach reminded them of their reason for being in the kitchen in the first place.
"Ok, lets get some food in you, hey? Sounds like your stomach will implode like one of your failed experiments if we don't! George took the teasing and accepted it, maybe his sense of humour was suffering under the lack of food too!
After finding all the bits and bobs, the pair decided to make their own private stack of pancakes. The kitchen was littered with pancake making bits and pieces.
Hermione had just filled the mixing bowl with some flour when George came up bend her. "Hey Hermione, you've got some flour on you face."
"Where?"
"Right........HERE!" And George slapped a handful of flour right over her nose and the rest of her face.
"G.....G.........GEORGE?!?!?!!??" The big brown eyes began to water. He knew he was in for it now.
She had tried to talk, tell him it was ok, but then the sneezing started.
"I.... I.... ACHOO!" BOOM!
As the first sneeze happened a cloud of flour appeared in the room, right over Georges head, and dumped its cargo all over him.
"ACHOO!" BOOM! The second sneeze sent the baking powder up the stove's pipe, logging it firmly in the top.
George shook the Flour out of his hair. "Hermione, are you alright?"
"I..I think I am..... ACHOO!" BOOM!
Next the bottle of syrup dissolved, letting the sticky goop fall to the floor and create sickly-sweet death-traps of maple-coloured ooze.
The Weasley boy quickly came up to the girl, pinching her nose to stop the sneezes and bring her back under control.
"Hermione, your magic's going haywire, just breathe........ That's right.. in.......out......", the girl complied. "Are you ready for me to let go now"
"Id dink dough".
Fred's twin let go, only to only have to duck seconds later.
"ACHOO!" BOOM!
The Kitchen table flew up in the air, turned 360, and landed exactly in its spot.
George looked up from his position on the floor. ".....................and now, ladies and gentlemen, for the ladies next trick....." and received a swat on the head.
"Stop it George, you know my magical barriers are holey......"
"What? Like St Jude? Should I bow down and worship you or something?", which he did, getting on his hands and knees, arms outstretched, raising them up and down.
"OH Hermione! Long may you reign as the Queens of disastrous sneezles! Praise Hermione.............."
That's it Bozo, prepare to meet thy maker" the girl blew her hair off her face, pushing up her sleeves as she stalked closer.
George sat up confused, "But you've already met my paren..OOOFFF!", and found himself flat on his back, lap full of bushy-haired witch, who preceded to start a tickle war till the death(or exhaustion, what ever came first).
Just as the fight began to turn to Georges favour (with Hermione firmly planted on her back on the kitchen table, her stomach sat upon by the lanky redhead, and being tickled time after time till she screamed "banana" – or so George proclaimed) that the other inhabitants of the burrow (Ginny, Harry, Arthur and Molly) poked their heads around the kitchen door.
Molly was ready to rip the two magical past-adolescencets "a new one", but was quickly subdued by her daughter, her husband and her...her....her Harry. No one wanted either of the two laughing personages in the next room to stop what they were doing and return to their gloomy appearances that had graced the house for the last month (or 12 months, considering the once-twin now covered in flour). Cleaning the kitchen and getting breakfast could wait.
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After more then ten minuets following the tickle-tussle (where the all the pancake ingredients, as well as most of the items contained in Molly's spice rack, had become (unwillingly) part to the two-sided warfare's ammunition) anybody entering the kitchen would have found both George and Hermione lying on Molly's once clean floor, finally catching their breath.
"Um... I don't think your Mother will be impressed with this mess."
"Why? Her floors are always clean enough to eat off! We just.....
".........put the food on the floor for her. I know George. I know."
George rolled over , looking at her bug-eyed. "Um..... Ummm".
The "brains of the trio" quickly sat up. "Whats wrong George? Was it something I said?"
He sat up to her level "You............you finished my s..s...sentence!"
"Oh........" she was surprised. "I didn't mean to.... it just happened, and..."
"No one........ no one except Fred knew what I was going...... going to say. You.... you can't replace him," George began to get louder and louder, screaming at her as he ran outside, "YOU CAN'T! I WON'T LET YOU!!!"
The floured, peppered, and thymed girl remained on the floor in shocked daze. After finally snapping out of her stupor, she dusted herself off, shedding parsley and oregano as she stormed out the kitchens stable-door leading to the outside.
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"George...................... GEORGE!" The curly-haired girl was searching the Weasley's backfield (while unbeknownst to her - being watched by the Mother of the magical red-heads from the kitchen window) for the teenage wizard who had just run off.
She knew he couldn't appriprate in the properties wards, so unless he'd stolen Harry cloak.... A...HA! He's gone up that damm Elder tree!
"George Fabian Weasley! Get out of that Elder tree THIS INSTANT! I refuse to talk to you while you hide in the leaves."
"Bugger off Hermione."
"Don't you use that tone with me Gred, it might work from Ron, but it doesn't work with me."
"DON'T CALL ME GRED, just leave me ALONE!"
Hermione huffed, this was NOT at all going to plan, if she even had a plan to begin with.
"Look George, just listen to me for one cotton-picking minute, and then I'll go.... comprendei?"
A mass of flame-coloured hair, and two beady blue eyes poked out at the end of one spot in the Elder bunches of leaves
"So!!!?!?!?.... talk!"
"Just listen Bozo. There are 3 musketeers who would die before they saw you hurt – Me, Myself and I – So you better pull yourself out of whatever "pity party" you holding and come back down to earth, before I come back in there and pull you out myself!"
With that, and a self-indulgent stamp of her foot, Helen Granger's daughter stormed back inside to the bombsite (formally known as the kitchen), leaving the young wizarding business owner to his thoughts (and the bow-truckles, but he didn't know that).
A/N: Right guys,..................... READ AND REVIEW I know i do!