"Hermione, want some breakfast?" George asked, strolling into her safe room. Upon reaching the bed, however, he realized she was still asleep. He gently shook her shoulders. "Rise and shine, Granger! We're supposed to be working on development all day today, you said you'd help us."
"Ugh," she moaned, pulling her pillow out from under her head and positioning it over her face. "Go away."
"None of that, now, Granger," he replied. His hand brushed hers as he tried to dislodge the pillow covering her head, and he withdrew it quickly in surprise. "Hermione! You're burning up! Are you feeling alright?"
"Miserable, actually," she groaned in response. "My head feels like a herd of hippogriffs stampeded over it."
George pulled out his wand and ran a diagnostic spell over her. "Just as I suspected...Wizard's Flu... Right. You're not to leave this bed, other than for the loo. I'll bring you some soup and tea in a few minutes. In the meantime, here," he declared, summoning a washcloth and using Aguamenti to soak it in cool water, then placing it on her forehead.
"Mmm," she hummed, "that feels wonderful. Thank you, George."
"Don't mention it, Granger," he replied. "Someone's got to take care of you, right?"
She managed a weak smile. "I'm glad it's you."
-oOo-
A week later, and Hermione was still sick. "Granger, I don't like that you're still this sick. Maybe we should get someone more well-versed in healing to take a look at you."
"What do you recommend? It's not like I can just waltz into St. Mungo's..." she responded.
"I know, I know, I was thinking maybe someone in the Order...someone like...oh! I've got it! Tonks' mum used to be a healer, we could get her to come over here. Don't you go anywhere, I'm going to go floo mum to ask her about it," George demanded, getting up from Hermione's bedside to go use the fireplace.
Hermione just laughed. "It's not like I have anywhere to go anyway."
A few minutes later, George returned to the safe room with Andromeda Tonks in tow. "Hello, Miss Granger. I hear you've fallen ill," she said in greeting.
"It's Hermione, and yes, ma'am, I've been feeling under the weather for at least a week now. Though I expect I'm in a lot better shape than I could have been, thanks to George's wonderful attentiveness."
George blushed. "Oh, it was nothing you wouldn't have done for me, Granger."
"No, I have to agree with Hermione," Andromeda stated, waving her wand over Hermione in complicated patterns. "For this particular strain of Wizard's Flu she seems to have contracted, she appears to be much more comfortable and lively than would be normal. You've apparently done an excellent job taking care of her." She smiled warmly at George and his face lit up, obviously not expecting the praise.
"Well thank you, Mrs. Tonks. Though I've really only done what I remember my mum doing for us when we got sick growing up."
"Call me Andromeda, please. And a fine example you had set for you, Mr. Weasley. Molly is an outstanding caregiver and nurturer. You're lucky to have been raised by such a remarkable woman."
Hermione reached for George's hand and gave it a squeeze, trying to convey in her smile how much she appreciated his care.
Actually, she'd been doing a lot of thinking about that over the past week that she'd been on bed rest. She never expected George to be as caring and attentive as he had been for the extent of her illness so far, and she thought it was absolutely wonderful. She knew he had a kind, caring spirit underneath the prankster front he kept up, but never anticipated it being so blatantly directed towards herself. If she was honest with herself, she'd probably have to admit that it endeared him to her a lot more than she'd have ever expected, and in the process, helped her to realize she had started to develop feelings for him.
Yes. She, Hermione Granger, had feelings for George Weasley. And she'd never felt more conflicted in her life.
-oOo-
"Hermione!" Fred shouted, speeding up his entrance to the sitting room. "You're off bed rest! Does this mean you're feeling better?"
"Oh yes, much," she replied, smiling. "Thanks to Mrs. Tonks' help, and George's excellent care, I'm feeling much more like myself again." She blushed a little at this admission, and Fred eyed her curiously.
"Granger...what was that blush about? Is there something you'd like to tell me? Something about my brother, perhaps?"
She snapped her head up at that question. "Fred?"
"Oh, come on Hermione, you can talk to me," he drawled, dropping down on to the couch and patting the seat beside him. "George is at Lee's tonight, so it's just the two of us. You can trust me."
She hesitantly padded over to the couch and sat beside him. "You don't keep any secrets from George," she stated.
"Not true. I don't keep any of my own secrets from George...but I'm good at keeping secrets that others trust me with. I solemnly swear that anything revealed in this conversation will never leave my lips without your express permission."
She looked at him warily, but then sighed and leaned into his side. "Alright, alright. What do you want to know?"
"Do you fancy my brother?" he asked.
"Wow, you don't waste any time, do you?"
"Well? You agreed to confide in me, you can't get out of answering this one."
Hermione took a deep breath, and then spoke. "I...I think I do, Fred. He was just so wonderful and caring while I was sick, I've never seen that side of him before. It's like it opened up a whole new world in my mind; one where I see him in a totally different light." She blushed, and burrowed deeper into his side.
"Brilliant!" Fred exclaimed. "You would be so good for him, Granger! I would love to see you two together."
"Fred, when did you become such a sweetheart?"
"It's just my natural Weasley charm, love," he replied with a cheeky grin. She swatted his chest, and then leaned back against him, smiling.
"Oh you. I honestly don't know how we didn't become friends sooner; I can't imagine my life without you in it anymore," she said, turning to the side and wrapping her arms around him.
"I love you too, Granger," Fred replied with a light laugh, hugging her back. "Now, what do you say we watch a movie? I'll even make us popcorn and root beer floats!"
-oOo-
Hermione woke up and walked out into the hallway, and stopped in surprise. Rubbing her eyes, she blinked a few times to make sure she wasn't seeing things. The entire flat was covered from floor to ceiling in hearts and cherubs. 'Oh! Valentine's day!' she thought. 'Guess the boys were a little over-excited...'
She went into the kitchen to start making breakfast, but paused when she heard a tapping noise. Turning to look at the window, she spotted a post owl. She opened the window and let it in, took the letter from its leg, and gave it an owl treat before it flew back out into Diagon Alley. She opened the letter, and sank into a chair with a heavy sigh of relief as she recognized Harry's scrawling handwriting.
Herm-own-ninny,
Happy Valentine's Day! We were hoping to be home by now, so we could celebrate the holiday with you, but unfortunately, we're still searching. 3/6, by the way, and we think we know the rest. I won't elaborate anymore, in case this owl gets intercepted.
Speaking of owls, I bet you're wondering how we managed to pull this off without being seen. Well, you'll be proud to know that Roonil had the genius idea to summon Snuffles' elf, who we then had take this to the post office for us. We just gave him a few sickles to pay for using the owl, and he took care of the rest. Pretty brilliant, eh?
By the way, Roonil says hi. We're somehow managing to survive out here, our diet mostly consisting of berries and the like, but we can't wait to be able to come home and have a proper meal (and see you all again, of course!)
Anyway, I think that's about all we can actually put in a letter, for safety's sake. We miss you tons, and hope that you're doing well. Please send our love to the rest of the family, and tell them that we hope to see them soon. And especially thank the ones that are helping you fly under the radar for us.
Until we meet again,
TBWL
She couldn't contain the smile on her face, but still managed to break down crying at the same time. Placing the letter back down on the table, she rested her face in her hands and let out all her pent up worries through her tears.
"Hermione?" Fred's voice floated into the kitchen as he climbed the stairs to the flat. "Are you alright? I heard crying." He walked through the door and immediately spotted Hermione, and ran over to envelop her in his arms. "Ssh, ssh. Hey now, love, what's wrong?"
She couldn't say anything, so she just lifted her head to look him in the eyes, and then handed him the letter. "Merlin..." he breathed out, flopping down into a chair to read the parchment. "They're alright! Oh, what a relief." He got up and walked briskly to the stairs, opened the door, and called down to his brother. "George! George, leave the store to Verity and come upstairs for a minute!"
George came flying up the stairs, breathing heavily. "What is it, Fred? Did something happen? Is everyone alright?" Spotting Hermione at the table, he noticed her red, puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Quickly making his way over to her, he threw his arms around her as his brother had done only a few minutes prior. "Hermione! What's wrong?"
Fred handed him the letter, and after reading it, George exhaled loudly as if he'd just been punched in the gut. "Bit of a relief, eh, Georgie?" George just nodded and reached over to stroke Hermione's hair softly after dropping the letter on the table.
"I think we should close the store for the day, Fred, and go out to celebrate. We can afford one day off, right?" George asked, looking to his brother.
"I think that's a good idea, George," he replied. "I'll go tell Verity, and ask her for a hair for polyjuice in case we need to get Granger out of the house." He got up from the table and headed down the stairs to talk to his employee and shoo the customers out after they'd made their final purchases.
-oOo-
George, Fred, and a polyjuiced Hermione – disguised as the WWW shop girl, Verity – left the flat and headed towards the Leaky Cauldron. Walking in, they noticed that the late morning crowd had thinned out quite a bit from months past, a sure sign that the threat of war was looming ever closer.
"Morning, Tom," Fred called, making his way over to the bar. "How's business?"
"Eh, surviving. You've seen what the Alley looks like lately, there's not many people around in the first place...not that any of them want to linger long enough to have a drink, anyway," the bartender replied.
"Yeah, we know all about that," George said with a sigh. "Seems that as much as people need a good laugh nowadays, nobody is willing to leave the house to come get something from us for it. Hopefully, this will all pass over soon. Merlin knows Diagon Alley could use some traffic."
"Hrmm," Tom grunted. "So, what'll it be today? Firewhiskey, as usual?"
"Nah, just a butterbeer each, please. And...I think we'll all go for some fish and chips, too," Fred answered, shaking his head. "It's a little early for firewhiskey...plus, we may decide to open the shop back up later today; can't do that if we're pissed!"
"Alright, here's your butterbeer. I'll bring the fish and chips around when they're ready," Tom said, handing them each a mug. "Seat yourself."
The trio made their way over to a booth in the back, to avoid unwanted attention. "To our brothers," George announced as they settled onto the benches, raising his glass to his companions.
"Hear, hear," they replied, clinking their own glasses with his. They all three took a long sip of the warm butterbeer, and sighed as they relaxed into their seats.
"It's so nice to be out in public, for once. I feel so trapped, always being in the shop," Hermione remarked, with a thoughtful smile on her face.
"Yeah, it's nice to be able to see you outside of number 93 for a change. Though we can't make a habit of this, for safety's sake," Fred replied with a frown.
The three friends spent the next few hours at the pub, enjoying each others company and relishing the warmth the butterbeer brought to them in the unusually cold winter. Eventually, they returned to the flat, feeling a lot lighter and smiling more easily than they had when the day first started.
They never did open the shop back up that day.
Posted: January 2012
Word Count: 2,301
