George felt like he was suffocating. He couldn't get away from her – the beautiful little witch who helped him keep his business in the green. She wasn't too little though, was she? She wasn't his little brother's … well, anything, really. She was smart, funny, and bloody talented. Her business sense was beginning to gain notoriety on the Alley as giving very smart advice. On top of that, she was an amazing brewer. Not even Fred had as much of an eye for his spell writing as she did – she understood what he was implying in his notes more often than not, having to ask few questions about his handwriting, or incomplete thoughts.
She was his greatest asset, and he was glad to have her in his life. Usually. Today, he wished he could have a day without her so close. While he was quick to point out her brilliance, today all he could focus on was her plump lips. He watched her pull her wild curls into a messy bun, jealous of the curls brushing against her smooth, long neck. She practically had him panting when she pulled her sweater over her head, like a cruel strip tease, when it got a bit warm in the brewing room.
He had a girlfriend, for fuck's sake! A real woman who had met his mum, jostled with his brothers, and probably was soon expecting a ring on her finger. He didn't want to hurt Angelina, and he definitely didn't want to isolate Hermione by making his feelings known. Fuck. What was he thinking last night? Hermione was placed neatly in the Sister-in-law category, along with Fleur, and the fiery nutter Audrey his brother Percy brought home months ago. Now, he couldn't think of the witch without undressing her.
… and he was staring, now. Hermione had turned on the FM radio in the studio, swaying her hips to the tune. A sheen of sweat was on her forehead and she gave him a sweet smile and a wink when they caught eyes. "You okay, Pard-ner?" She asked in a terrible American accent. "Mhm," he replied gruffly. Hermione's mockery was replaced with concern. George and she had a teasing relationship dating back to Hogwarts. It was easy and light, and they seemed to have a way of making light of even the toughest stuff.
Today, however, his mood seemed unshakeable. "George, what's going on?" She was behind him quite suddenly, so when he whirled around to reply, she was pressed against him. He startled, but the air was so heady around them and hre big beautiful doe eyes were watching his face, so full of concern. He needed her, and it was overwhelming. His mouth moved to speak, and instead his head dipped closer to her. Hermione appeared surprised, but she didn't move away as he moved closer. Centimeters from her face, she fluttered her eyes shut, lifting her face to meet him.
"George! Ange is waiting for you up front! She said you had a lunch date?" Lee Jordan called into the back area of the shop. Lee Fucking Jordan. "I'm fine, Hermione," George whispered, moving away from her abruptly. He left her speechless and confused.
"And then, that twat Gina says 'well it wasn't my fault we lost, you were shite at keeping the goals clear.' I can't even believe her!" Angelina shook her head, taking a bite of chip. George was thoroughly engrossed in his thoughts. "George!" Angelina snapped her fingers in front of his face, her perfect eyebrow arched angrily. "Angelina…" George started apologetically. The woman stared at him. "I knew it." She got up from the table and stormed out of the shop. He rushed after her. "Ange, wait!" "I knew this was going to happen! You've always had a thing for Granger, it was only a matter of time! The two of you alone in that apartment." She was crying now. George hated making women cry. "Angelina, I'm sorry." She shook her head. "Of course you are, George." She kissed him on the cheek, and turned to walk home. "I hope you're happy together," She murmured, just loud enough for him to hear. He stood, stunned in the middle of the street, heart pounding.
Did he always have a thing for Granger? He always felt comfortable around the younger witch. His brother had adored her from the second he saw her, he knew that. Fred had accepted Hermione as his sister the minute the sorting hat called Gryffindor. "She's going to be fun!" He said, and although he loved teasing her, they rarely pulled their pranks on her. Then of course, the yule ball came round and she looked like a bloody princess in her wispy blue dress. George was sure every male at Hogwarts fell in love with her that evening.
And now? Now he got to see her every day. She curled up on his sofa with a stack of books and her reading glasses. He knew what she smelled like just coming from a hot shower. She scolded him when their apartment got messy. She made him hot chocolate when he didn't want to close his eyes for fear of nightmares. He very nearly got to taste her pretty, pink mouth.
Yes, well … so he was in love with Granger. For a while now, if he was honest with himself. Since the night of Fred's funeral, specifically. How had he not known? He remembered vividly. Everyone had gone to bed, and the burrow had settled into a sullen quiet. Hermione was snuggled in an arm chair beneath a throw his mum made her for Christmas, and George was on the sofa staring straight ahead, exhausted from the day of tears.
"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife." George took a second to realize … she was reading aloud. He glanced at her curiously. "Pride and Prejudice … a muggle story. It may not be the most intellectual book out there … but it … comforts me." He nodded, and she continued. "However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood…" He didn't really listen to the story, but her voice held an almost melodic quality as she spoke words that she obviously knew well. The next morning, George awoke to the clamor of breakfast in the kitchen, covered in a blanket that smelt of Hermione Granger.
George left her in the small lab in the back of Weasley's, warm from more than just the stuffy air of the room. Her heart beat out of her chest. He was about to kiss her! Wasn't he? His face was inches from hers. Oh, Gods. What about Angelina? He was with her now. He hadn't returned, so they must have had a successful lunch date. Her stomach turned at the thought. She was imagining things, surely. He didn't want her – she was pregnant, with his little brother's baby.
She was just Hermione, his honorary little sister. And if she had feelings for him, well … that was just hormones, right? Physical attraction. And he took such good care of her. If anyone was to be her partner in this mess, she was glad it was him. Gods forbid Ron actually stepped up and took responsibility. She sighed.
She took her apron off. She had finished her inventory for the day, with just one more potion brewing – a basic concentration potion. It had one more stirring rotation left, and then it was to be left overnight to cool. She took a seat to wait, rubbing her little bump absently.
It had been a long day. She wasn't getting sick nearly as often, but she couldn't escape the fatigue. Her lids were heavy. Her head tipped back.
She was awoken by the smell of … burning rubber. The timer for her potion was going off insistently. "Oh, shit." She put on goggles and grabbed her wand from the desk. "Aguament-" but it was too late. Brown, putrid liquid burst from the cauldron and Hermione fell to the floor.
Lee heard the noise from the shelves he was stocking all the way at the front of the store, and the smell hit him immediately after. He rushed into the back, where he found the exploded potion, a table on fire, and a pregnant witch collapsed on the ground. He plugged his nose, pointing his want to the fire and extinguishing it. He scooped Hermione in his arms and made for the apartment upstairs.
George was ready when the door opened, dinner and flowers waiting on the table. The sight he saw, though, made his heart leap in fear. "Hermione!" He checked for a pulse, pacing Lee to the fireplace. He had never been so happy to feel a slight thrum against his fingers.
"St. Mungo's!" He shouted as the trio stepped into the fireplace.