Chapter 8
It was getting so near April. Hermione felt more and more guilt increasingly as the date grew closer and closer. She had been living at the Burrow for quite a while now, roughly four months, and it was getting horribly pathetic. She needed a job more than anything. Beyond that, she actually wanted to live on her own, go to work, have an income and not just rely on the award money the Ministry had given her.
She woke up early on March fifteenth, just a few days after Ginny's visit, and vowed to herself to move out by April fifteenth, exactly one month away. This would give her time to get used to her job, to get her first pay check, and to find a place to live. It also allowed her to be at the Burrow on April Fools Day, which was also, appropriately, George's 21st birthday.
Hermione wanted to be there more than she really realized. She wanted to give him a gift for the first time, to celebrate not only his birthday but the odd holiday, if he wanted to. Also, she felt that she needed to be there, in case he was not happy, in case all he thought of was Fred. They were twins, so this wasn't only a day for George, and she didn't want him to feel horribly alone if she did leave. It felt wrong.
But all of that could wait. First, Hermione needed to get herself a job. The Ministry job obviously didn't work out, she didn't even need to ask. No other jobs were really open doing anything she'd be even slightly willing to do. Not even a receptionist position in the Ministry. She didn't know of any law firms or organizations she could apply to, so there was no hope in a job like that. In fact, the only job she knew of, was offered to her last July, just after the war.
This job, however, was working under Draco Malfoy. Not a horrible job, she was sure, and maybe not even with a horrible boss, and Malfoy seemed to really have changed, even in two months. She had randomly bumped into him one day in Diagon Alley, literally knocking into his shoulder. It was one of Hermione's oddest experiences...
"Oh, I'm sorry." Malfoy had said as their shoulder's touched. At the same moment they realized who the other was, and Hermione stiffened. She expected it to be taken back, or to be called a name, but the blonde simply looked astonished. "Granger! How have you been?"
This threw her off from her glaring and she dumbly blinked. "Um, just fine, I suppose." She spoke with defense obvious in her voice, dare he try anything.
"Good. Good." Malfoy seemed nervous to state it, rubbing the back of his neck. It was in such a way that reminded her slightly of Ron as he stumbled over his words. "Well, I realize this is probably bollocks of me, but, just in case, if you need a job I just started my own little business. It's um, really the only thing I can think of to make up for all the crap things I've done..."
Keeping her posture strong, Hermione wouldn't let him see how surprised and almost sympathetic she felt towards him now. "Oh? What kind of business?" She asked hotly.
Malfoy looked down at her, then away again, watching the people walking up and down Diagon Alley. "It's, I guess, an animal reserve. I, um, house magical creatures. I always really liked that class, even though I acted like-"
"A horribly stuck up, egotistical, loathsome brat?" Hermione offered crudely the moment he hesitated. "Even though Hagrid, the oaf you detested, taught it?"
A dark look crossed over his face. "I've already apologized profusely to him since the war ended, and I've been forgiven. He even helps me out now and again, Hagrid." Draco pointed out in a tone that suggested he was trying not to yell. "Well, I really just wanted to tell you that the job is always open. If you ever needed it. Sorry to bother you."
Then Malfoy had walked off. Then, Hermione swore to never even think of taking the job, but now that she had been living with her best friend's family for a few months, it was incredibly appealing.
This in mind, as Hermione got up she set out to owl Draco Malfoy. She wrote a short message, with her elegantly flourished signature decorating the bottom.
"Malfoy,
Is that job offer still on the table? I'm afraid I'm desperate.
~Hermione Granger"
She sent the parchment off with Pig, who seemed excited to have a job to do and flew out of the Burrow in a crooked, over zealous manner. Satisfied with herself, Hermione went to her room briefly to grab a book. She decided upon a collection of Sherlock Holmes tales, and then happily skipped back down stairs. Reading the wonderful, intelligent mysteries, she sat by the open window she had sent Pig out of and waited for a response.
Hermione was so involved in the book that she didn't notice Arthur leave. She had accidentally ignored Ron, who was off to the joke shop, and only managed to grunt a farewell to Harry, who was going to Auror training for the day. At least her friends were understanding, that once she was reading there was hardly any stopping her. In fact, Hermione didn't stop reading until a large hand covered her book.
"Huh?" She very inadequately questioned at the interruption. It was George who disturbed her, staring down at her with a bit of a smile. "Morning, George."
He nodded at her and then smirked lightly. "It's noon." He informed the girl.
This surprised her, and Hermione jumped, shoving her knees into the couch and leaning over the back of it to peer out the window. George chuckled at her. "What are you waiting for?"
"Pig! I sent a letter this morning." Hermione explained to him, hoping desperately to see a little black dot of an owl in the distance. Shouldn't she have gotten a reply by now?
The Weasley man let her search for a moment before crossing his arms over his chest nonchalantly. "Pig's in the kitchen, I just gave him some bread."
Once again she jumped, this time launching off the couch and into the kitchen. The pesky little owl was perched on the oven, picking at a large slice of bread that was nearly bigger than he was. Hermione looked at his feet, hoping to see a letter, but there was nothing tied there. She looked around, on the stove and floor, before finding an envelope on the far end of the table.
With unexpected vigor, she opened the letter and slipped out the bit of parchment inside. It was indeed the letter that she had been waiting for, as she vaguely recognized Draco Malfoy's handwriting. "Pig, you silly owl, you're supposed to bring this to me." She told the small bird before reading the response.
"Granger,
The job is yours. Can you start tomorrow, as we are quite busy? I can meet you at the Leaky Cauldron at seven thirty if this is acceptable.
Draco Malfoy"
Before her excitement could get the best of her, Hermione searched the kitchen for a scrap of paper and was pleased that she had put a muggle pen in her pocket. She wrote a quick, nearly scribbled acceptance before giving it to Pig. Always liking a job, nearly more than food, the small owl immediately forgot about the ed, which was now in three pieces due to his pecking.
Then Hermione proceeded to jumped up and down much like her twelve year old self would have, cheering happily. She had completely forgotten where she was and who, possibly, could see her, so when she turned around, still jumping, she froze as she saw George. He simply stood in the door way, mouth pressed into a thin line though it was evident that he was holding back amusement, and he raised his eyebrows at her odd reaction.
"I got a job!" She said defensively, as though it explained all of her childish actions. Sure, that was a valid reason, but most people didn't usually jump and cheer after sending an owl, they would have cheered first.
He gave her one slow nod. "Congratulations. Now go back to jumping, I was enjoying that."
Letting out a surprised, somewhat amused, squeak, Hermione threw her pen at him. "Don't be so crude!" She huffed and stormed past him, purposefully hitting his shoulder.
George, however, didn't let her move much farther forward than that, grabbing her around the waist and knocking her feet out of under her. Hermione shrieked thinking she would fall, but he held her up, just above the floor. This was a bit more embarrassing than being caught acting like a child, and she went red. Especially as George began to tickle her.
"No! STOP IT! George!" She squeaked and tried to wiggle away. She managed to make him let go, only falling onto her hands and knees, but his hands followed.
She was laughing against her will, and since he wouldn't listen she grabbed his hand and pulled him down. Now that he was laying on the floor, slightly surprised himself, she had the height advantage and began to tickle him. George, however, wasn't going to let her win this one for long, and snaked his hands up to her sides even as he laughed. Both trying to not be tickled, and tickle the other, it was like awkward wrestling on the floor as the moved and attacked, laughing the entire time.
Only when Hermione got incredibly breathless and had both hands on the floor as she panted did George stop his full on assault. "Jerk." She teasingly said and shoved one of her hands into his face as she got up.
Still, even after insulting him, she did put out her hand to help George to his feet. He took it and let Hermione pull on him even though he mostly got up on his own. Then he ruffled her hair like a child and jumped away as Hermione tried to hit him. As he bolted up the stairs, she took chase, and their games continued.
Harry and Ron got home at the same time that day. Hermione, after a couple hours bothering George, was back to reading her nearly forgotten book, but excitedly put it down so that she could greet her friends with a hug. Both of them received very tight embraces, in fact, and it was the slightest bit confusing. Obviously something good happened, as Hermione was never one to act differently if nothing had changed.
She didn't keep them guessing long. "I got a job today." She confessed.
"Good! Congratulations, 'Mione!" Harry told her and gave her another, brief hug. He at least seemed incredibly excited for her, in all honesty.
Ron, however groaned. "Are you sure that your boss isn't another arse?" He lectured her, still claiming the side of his mind that didn't want her to get a job and move out.
At the question, Hermione actually scoffed. How to answer, that was the real question. "Of course my boss is an arse, that's a bosses job." She claimed, knowing it wasn't entirely the correct position to take on this matter, but it was an answer to please Ron.
Anything was better than telling him that her boss was going to be the changed, but well known arse, Draco Malfoy.
"Anyway, I start tomorrow morning, which mean I'll be able to move out in one months time." Hermione held up her slim pointer finger to emphasize what she was saying. She had already told Molly all this earlier that day, so there was nothing to stop her.
Especially not Ron, who was already complaining. "You don't have to move, I told you that two weeks ago." He tried to ease her, assure her that there was no need to go anywhere.
"Well I'm moving no matter what." She lifted her chin in pride. No matter what he thought she would follow through with her plans, because this was her happiness she was trying to achieve, not a plan to please Ron. "Now come on, Ronald, you were perfectly fine before I moved in, and will be fine after I move out."
He gave her a classic look, the kind that lacked a certain intelligence. "Well, when you put it that way, yeah, but... We all like having you here, 'Mione." He told her. "Especially me. Especially George."
Oblivious, Ron didn't notice Hermione's slight blush as he mentioned his older brother. Harry, however, did, just slightly. "Did he ever talk to you?" Hermione asked Ron, quickly changing the subject from the topic of moving.
"Yeah, he did." Ron smiled goofily. Obviously it had been a chat he was fond of. "He told me that you told him your "darkest secret" if he talked to me. What did you tell him?"
She went a bit more red and waved her hand through the air dismissively. "Oh, you two know everything about me. I'm sure you can figure it out." Hermione dodged around the actual question, and had to come up with yet another topic before she embarrassed herself further. "How about a game of chess before dinner? You two can play and I'll watch."
The boys found her behavior slightly odd, but it had been a long time since they played chess together, probably not since the game on Christmas. And, honestly, they enjoyed the game. It gave them a lot of time to fool around without talking about their days, or work, or grown up life in general.
Later that night Hermione knocked on George's door. It had been a couple nights since she last did so, not since the night before her prank. As George opened the door she held up the tin she was holding with a smile.
"Chocolate chip?" She offered as though the temptation would be just to much, as if without such a bribe she wouldn't be allowed to come into George's room.
He chuckled. His laugh's were coming more easily as days went by and it made everyone in the house glad, if they noticed. They still didn't know anything that went on truly between George and Hermione, but at least things were changing. At least the living twin was learning that he could still be happy.
George let Hermione in. "If you keep bribing me with food, we'll both get fat." He teased the girl and poked her small, yet quite soft and poke-able side.
"Oh, please. This isn't a bribe, it's a sacrifice, so you don't go after me instead." She mocked and put the tin on George's bed as he occupied half of it. "I'm going to go get milk, you want any?"
George shook his head, he never really liked the thought of a soggy cookie, or even the taste of milk, really. Smiling either way, Hermione excused herself and glided through the Burrow, still on a natural high from her excitement of a new job she was in her own world partially, which is why whe didn't notice that she wasn't the only one in the kitchen until Ron said her name.
"Hey, Hermione. What you doing?" He asked once he had her attention, speaking around a forkful of cake. His last bite, judging by the nearly clean plate.
She gestured to the inside of the fridge as she opened it. "Getting milk?" She laughed lightly, wondering if her had a problem with what she was doing.
Ron only nodded and slipped his plate into the sink. As Hermione poured the milk he moved next to her. "You really don't have to move out, Hermione." She spoke quietly, leaning against the table with his hip.
"But I can't live here forever. Even you are bound to move out soon, Ronald." She rolled her eyes, now just going through the motions of telling him that yes, she was moving out, no matter what. He had asked her not to far too much.
"Yeah, but then you could move in with me." He suggested playfully, tapping her arm. Hermione put the milk away before looking at him.
"And why would I move in with you? I want to eventually be on my own, maybe even get married and have kids, you know." She meant it in a light tone, that she did eventually want to move on, thinking he would understand. She had a desire to date, to find someone, and with Ron constantly at her side this was far from possible. He would get jealous or upset, the other man would get jealous or upset.
Not incredibly offended or even understanding, Ron stepped forward and placed a warm hand on the side of Hermione's face. "Why can't you do those things with me?"
Before Hermione could react, and her first reaction was to laugh, Ron had leaned far too close, then all the way in and shocked her into silence. Her best friend of eight years was kissing her. Really kissing her, holding her by her shoulders and pressing his lips against hers in a bruising way. Tears pricked her eyes and there was a horrible constriction in her chest.
Finding her mind, Hermione shoved Ron away from her and automatically her hand went up and she smacked him. "Hermione! Come on, we're meant for each other." Ron angrily tried to drill into her, reaching for her again.
She dodged him, and only after she opened her mouth to speak did she realize that she was full on sobbing. "N-no. Don't touch me. Don't even touch me." She cried and turned to the living room, running away from her friend.
Simpy putting it, she was in utter disbelief that he would do such a thing. But nothing was simple. Especially if she really couldn't notice that Ron was feeling this way, even after George, and even Ginny last year, had told her so much. It was denial, she felt, she didn't want to believe it because she could never feel the same way. It wouldn't feel right, it didn't feel right when he kissed her.
She fully meant to go into her own room, to just hide behind a locked door. Instead she somehow managed to mix up the doors, or subconsciously wanted company, because Hermione ended up in George's room, closing the door behind her and leaning heavily against it. With shaking, weak hands that she would never pride herself on, she wiped at her wet cheeks and turned away from George.
"Sorry. I'm sorry." Hermione blubbered uselessly as George jumped up from his bed upon her entry. He ignored everything she said and cautiously approached.
For the past ten months George had been the one comforted, so he felt awkward doing the comforting. It seemed odd up to the very moment that he wrapped his arms around Hermione. After a moment of tense standing, hoping she'd calm, he felt warm holding her against his chest, relaxed slightly. Hermione's breathing calmed and as her slight sobs turned silent, he pressed his cheek against the top of her head. Both of them were too involved to hear Ron knocking on the door across the hall, whispering Hermione's name in search of her.
