Chapter Ten

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Having people read makes writing so much more enjoyable. Once again, not mine – JK's!

The weeks leading up to Hermione's birthday celebration passed quickly. George had been busier as a professor than he ever had been working in his shop. Between preparing lessons, assisting students, marking essays, running Quidditch practices, and working on Hermione's present, he scarcely had a moment to himself. Every night, he went to bed so tired that sleep was able to come naturally. It would have been easy for George to complain about the hard, demanding work, but he couldn't; he soon found that he loved being a professor. The few students that acted foolishly in classes were outweighed by the number that paid him respect and were clearly interested in learning about Charms. The excitement on the faces of his students as they mastered Vanishing Charms, Colour-change Charms, and other aspects of the curricula always made George smile and helped him realize that difficulty of his job was worth it for the sake of his students.

The night before Hermione's birthday celebration, George said goodbye to a group of students as they left his office. It turned out that Hermione had been correct when she had told him that he could expect students coming by his office for extra help. A number of his fourth year Hufflepuffs had timidly knocked on his door earlier in the evening looking for assistance on perfecting the Summoning Charm and George was willing to oblige. He only had a few minor tweaks left to complete Hermione's present and, as they were heading into the weekend, didn't have any lesson plans to finalize.

"Thanks for the help, Professor W," One of his Hufflepuff students called as George let the youngsters out of his quarters.

"Thanks for giving up your Friday," Another added earnestly.

"Not a problem, Will," George smiled in return as the rest of the youngsters waved goodbye. It had taken the better part of the evening for all the students to master the charm, but, by the time they left, all were able to skillfully summon objects from across George's office. "Any time you guys need help, you know my door is always open….and behave yourself this weekend!" George called with a chuckle to the retreating students. He knew that the first Hogmeade trip was that weekend and he remembered the trouble that used to always happen on such trips while he was at school; trouble, he had to acknowledge, of which he was generally in the midst.

After the last of the students left, George pulled Hermione's present off the top of one of his bookshelves. He placed it caringly on his desk and sunk into the large, armed chair. Despite his eagerness to head to bed and start his night's sleep, he wanted to finish the present before he did. It was after midnight when George finally put his office light's out and slunk into his room. He practically crashed into his bed and was asleep almost instantaneously.

-o-O-o-

George hesitantly entered Professor Slughorn's lavish sixth-floor office for Hermione's party. The impressive room was finely decorated. Burgundy curtains hung on the walls and on either side of the ceiling-height, massive stone fireplace. Professor Slughorn clearly had a love of knickknacks, as the room was cluttered with tiny figurines, tribal masks, pictures, souvenirs, painted dragon eggs, signed brooms, and other such memorabilia. It was crowded, but not messy. George liked the room; it had a certain bombastic personality, much like the professor to which it belonged. Most of the faculty was already there. Some of Slughorn's favourite students were acting as caterers. They were wearing matching, dark red vests and carrying trays of appetizers or champagne, which they would offer to the guests. George placed Hermione's present on an ornate table. The table housed many figurines, including, amusingly, life-like ivory elephant miniatures which charged at each other across the surface, butting heads ferociously.

George surveyed the room, noting his colleagues in their finery. He was glad that he had put on a dark tie over his pale blue, dress shirt; everyone else was dressed up as well. Other than a large, bright red banner taking up one wall of the octagon-shaped room and garishly proclaiming "Happy Birthday Hermione" in scrawling white italics, everything about the celebration aiming for classy. George easily spotted Professor Slughorn. He was in the middle of the room, clad in his fanciest dress robes, speaking loudly, surrounded by a number of professors who were respectfully listening to his stories. It was obvious that the older man was in his element. Hermione was one of the professors standing next to Slughorn. The Potions professor seemed to be addressing most of his speech towards the young brunette.

"Happy Birthday, Hermione," George waited until Slughorn finished his story about a former student responsible for the Bulgarian Magic reformation to greet his friend. Hermione excused herself from the conversation to give George a hug.

"Thanks for coming, George,"

"I wouldn't miss it, Mione. You look lovely by the way," George complimented appreciatively. Hermione was wearing a simple, vintage, grey cocktail dress that suited her perfectly and looked sufficiently formal for the affair and yet charmingly whimsical at the same time. The sleeveless dress was tight through the bodice until it jutted out over Hermione's hips, where the hem came down to just above her knees. The fullness of the skirt gave her a bell-like shape, but still highlighted her slender figure. The neck line was high enough to be modest, but low enough to reveal Hermione's pronounced collarbones. Somehow the soft grey colour of the dress managed to look sweet rather than dour. She wore her honey-brown locks in smooth curls over her shoulders and her bangs were swept to the side, exposing her large, brown eyes to a greater extent than that to which George was accustomed. As a result of her lofty, bright pink heels, she was much closer in height to George than normal. Her accessories were minimal; the look was completed with only a long strand of small pearls which hung in three different sized loops around her neck.

"Thank you George" – Hermione grinned – "I was going for an Audrey Hepburn look….Oh, I supposed you don't know who that is…never mind…" She responded to his blank stare. "Er, you look very handsome."

"Thanks…are you allowed to sit with me for a bit?" George asked. He grabbed two glasses of champagne off a passing tray and handing one to Hermione.

"Yah, I suppose that's ok. Besides, my shoes are starting to kill me." She laughed, alternating her weight between her feet. The pair made their way to one of the plush, burgundy velvet couches situated around the sides of the large room. George sat at one end, nodding at Hagrid, who was taking up the better part of an adjacent, identical couch.

"I had no idea you were such a star, Hermione. It looks as if everyone showed up for your party," George teased.

"Oh, that's not true…" Hermione mumbled embarrassed. "People are just interested in getting together…it's not really about me…"

Looking around the room, however, George realized that he was likely correct in his statement: the entire faculty appeared to be grouped in Slughorn's office. Luna had taken Hermione's spot next to Slughorn. The Potions Professor was talking loudly about his newest favourite students while the young blonde nodded politely. She was dressed in a short, vibrant yellow dress which had a skirt that floated widely out around her legs, supported by a matching yellow crinoline. The dress appeared to be strapless, but it was difficult to tell, as Luna had paired it with an equally vivid orange, knit cardigan with fat, round, blue buttons. The many bright colours should have clashed foolishly, but they perfectly suited easygoing, dreamy girl, looking more quirky than silly as a result. Luna's long, blond hair was piled on the top of her head in a large, messy knot. Neville, dressed smartly in a charcoal grey suit over a light green, button-down top, was standing unnecessarily close to the young woman with a huge, proud grin on his face. He was staring fondly at his companion. Professor McGonagall was in another corner of the room, talking to Professors Higgs and Doctel. McGonagall had even opted for an outfit other than her Hogwarts robes; admittedly, her long-sleeved, black dress was almost identical to her usually present robes. Fiona looked stunning in a backless, ivory dress and teetering, beige stilettos.

After George and Hermione had chatted for only several minutes, Slughorn loudly cleared his throat to catch the attention of those gathered.

"Hmm, hmm. Attention everyone," He announced once the room was quiet. "Dinner is about to be served." All the professors claimed spots around the large, round table that was set up towards one side of Slughorn's vast office. George found himself seated between Neville and Fiona. He had hoped to end up next to Hermione, but Slughorn had eagerly ushered her to a spot beside him.

The sturdy, oak table was exquisite; Slughorn had used his best fineries for Hermione's party. Tall, bronze candle holders supporting lit white candles adorned the middle of the table, essentially blocking the view of those directly opposite him from George. Plates of fine China etched with gold in a pattern of leaves were at each setting. Heavy, engraved silver cutlery – including more forks than George assumed were necessary – sat on either side of the plates. The student servers were making rounds of the table to fill the professors' glasses with wines of both white and red. George thanked a young girl he recognized as a Ravenclaw fifth year when she filled his glass. He took a timid sip, unsure if he should be drinking alcohol around students, and immediately realized that the wine was richer and, most likely, more expensive than any wine he had ever before tasted.

"Thank you all for coming," Slughorn continued in a rather self-important tone. "It's so lovely that you were all willing to gather here to celebrate the birthday of our dear Miss Granger." Slughorn reached down to pat Hermione on her shoulder. After he finished his welcome, Slughorn sat down and the students began to bring out trays of food. George was shocked at the extravagance of the feast. Soon his plate was covered with delicacies: ham, beef, bread, roasted zucchini, squashes, Yorkshire puddings, and crystallized pineapple. As a student refilled his wine glass, George glanced at Hermione. She was grinning and chatting animatedly with Slughorn and McGonagall. George noted, contently, that his friend wasn't upset at the extensive effort the kitchen elves had obviously made in preparing her birthday feast.

"So how do you like Hogwarts?" Fiona interrupted George mid-bite.

"Ah, er," George stammered after quickly swallowing his food. "It's pretty great. I did come to school here, so I already knew what to expect."

"That's nice," Fiona replied in the clipped tone with which she generally spoke. Her voice failed to betray any inflection to indicate that she actually meant what she said.

"What about you?" George asked, realizing that returning her question would be polite. "This is your first year here, right?"

"Yes, it is" – She intoned – "It's alright. Teaching Transfiguration has always been my dream. I am glad I am finally able to do that."

"That's great. I think you'll like Hogwarts. It's a great school," George spoke earnestly, always prepared to defend his school.

"I'm sure it is…What is it people do around her for enjoyment's sake around these parts?" Fiona asked and George questioned whether he sensed a trace of condescension in her tone.

"Er, well, Hogsmeade has some lovely shops." George commented feebly, knowing that the sleepy village was not exactly bustling.

"Oh well, you'll have to show me around sometime." Fiona told him with a sly smile. George nodded. He got the sense his new colleague wasn't the type of woman who was used to having her requests declined. As they spoke, it occurred to George that it was the first real conversation he had shared with his comely co-worker. There was more to Fiona than he had initially realized. She was well-travelled and well-educated, having spent time studying or teaching in Greece, Poland, Ireland and even the Americas. George wondered if she looked down on him for having scarcely left the United Kingdom. He was sure she wouldn't be interested in stories from the vacation his family had taken to Egypt while he was a teenager.

After dinner was completed, most of the students dutifully started clearing away the dirty dishes, while several others brought out smaller, matching dessert plates. George wasn't sure how Slughorn was able to convince so many students to give up their Saturday evenings – especially the night before a Hogsmeade trip – but wasn't too bothered; it was rather nice to be waited on for a change. As two seventh years carried a large skillfully iced cake emblazoned with "Happy Birthday Hermione," Slughorn rose, once again, to say a few words about how specialness of the younger professor.

"And that is why we are so fortunate to have you here, as Professor of History of Magic and Muggle Studies," The red-faced, finely dressed professor finished his remarks with a flourish of his hand. "And now let's join together in a song to celebrate Hermione." Professor Slughorn waved his hands back and forth as if directing an orchestra. No one present knew the words of the song that Slughorn had opted for, so he completed the tune on his own in his rich baritone. George smiled generously at the older man's production. Slughorn could be a little over the top, but he always meant well. Hermione, George noticed, was grinning widely. She was clearly bemused by the attention, but it was evident that she was very fond of her former professor and current colleague.

"Here you are, Professor Weasley," One of the Slughorn's student helpers passed George a piece of chocolate cake.

"Oh, thank you Lexi," George told the young Gryffindor seeker. "It's so lovely of you to help out."

"Err…" The little, blonde girl looked uncomfortable with George's praise, but she dutifully nodded before disappearing behind a burgundy curtain that George assumed led to a kitchen area.

"How you doing tonight, Neville?" George turned to his companion on his other side, noting that his friend was staring idly at the cake on his plate while Luna was engaged in conversation with Professor Aisling on her other side.

"Oh er" – Neville stuttered, quickly regaining awareness from his daydream – "I'm good."

"Eh, that's good," George smiled knowingly, recalling how he had noticed Neville and Luna standing close earlier in the evening. "Hey mate," He asked, lowering his voice so that Luna wouldn't be able to overhear his comment from her near vantage point beside Neville. Fortunately, the girl seemed to be lost in her conversation with the Professor of Divination. "Are you and Luna here together? It looked to me as if you might be,"

Neville nodded proudly and eagerly in response to George's question: "Yup, I asked her today to go with me and she said yes," He gushed excitedly.

"That's fantastic mate," George told his friend earnestly. He didn't know what going to an event like Hermione's birthday together actually meant, but he didn't want to spoil Neville's obvious enthusiasm by asking for clarification.

-o-O-o-

Once dessert was over, George was surprised at how quickly Slughorn's office emptied. Soon only the younger professors and Slughorn and Hagrid remained. He sipped his after-dinner tea and glanced around the room. Hagrid and Slughorn were tasting wine from several different bottles, Neville and Luna were sitting very close on one of Slughorn's many couches, and Terence and Fiona were talking off to the side of the room. George noticed that Hermione was finally by herself. Grabbing her present on off the table he had left it on, George wandered across the room, sinking into the couch next to Hermione.

"Hey, Birthday Girl" – George joked – "I got you a little something."

"Oh George, that's so sweet. You didn't have to get me anything," Hermione smiled.

"It's really nothing, Mione," George said quietly, hoping she wouldn't have too high expectations for his gift. He handed his friend the hastily wrapped package.

"Oh George, this is just lovely," Hermione breathed pulling the gift out of its wrapping paper. In her hands was a midsized, dark wooden box. The outside of the box was engraved with an exaggerated bark-like pattern. Hermione carefully opened the box, revealing the inside. It was lined with dark, luxurious purple velvet. On a small shelf created when the lid was opened, a tiny, porcelain ballerina stood, mid pirouette.

"It's a jewelry box," George explained, showing her the compartments hidden in the velvet. The compartments were bewitched so that they were larger than would appear to be spatially possible. "I know it's kind of silly and girly, but I hope you like it."

"I love it George, it's gorgeous. I have literally been keeping all my jewelry in a cardboard box, so this is perfect."

"Do you have your wand?" George asked, trying not to display how pleased he was that Hermione liked his present. The brunette produced her wand from a hidden pocket in a fold of her dress. George instructed her to tap the ballerina with her wand. Upon doing so, the tiny figurine came to life and danced in a series of leaps and pirouettes across the shelf of the jewelry box. Joyful, tinkling music emanated from the wooden box.

"Oh George, I love this." Hermione sighed.

"I designed it so that it plays music that the listener will want to hear. So if you're having a bad day, it will play something to cheer you up. Or if you want to relax, it will play something to help you relax, and so on…." George concluded quietly, noting that his friend had a large smile playing across her face, obviously enjoying the music the enchanted box had chosen.

"George this is lovely, thank you so much," Hermione lifted the present off her lap and placed it on the couch next to her in order to lean over and give George a snug embrace. She was warm in his arms and her hair smelt fresh and fragrant. George tried not to feel disappointed when Hermione broke the hug after far too early for George's liking.

"Oi, are we exchanging presents now?" Terence broke the pair's moment, striding across the room and proclaiming loudly: "I also got you something Mione." The young man reached into the inside-pocket of his suit jacket and handed Hermione a necklace. Hermione turned the trinket over in her hand to take a better look at it. From his spot beside her, George could easily see that the piece boasted an impressive, deep blue stone hanging securely from a delicate gold chain.

"Oh er, this is very unexpected. Thank you very much Terry," Hermione whispered. So some reason, George got the sense that she was rather uncomfortable with the gesture.

"It was my great-grandmother's" – Terence commented self-importantly – "Her birthday was also in September. Put it on Hermione,"

"Oh er," Hermione awkwardly fingered the strand of pearls already hanging from her neck. "I'll wear it another time…" She finished lamely and gently placed the necklace in one of the hidden drawers of George's jewelry box. "It's so lovely, Terry. Thank you." Hermione stood and gave her colleague a quick hug.

-o-O-o-

For the remainder of the evening, George noticed that Hermione didn't seem as relaxed as normal. Her jaw seemed to be set rather resolutely and her lips were slightly pursed. She was quieter than she had been earlier. Sooner than George would have expected for a party, the guests started saying goodbye to each other and Slughorn showed them out. After he said goodnight and thanked their host, George wandered out of the office and into the sixth-floor corridor. Looking down the corridor ahead of him, he noticed Hermione walking slowly, gingerly stepping in her high heels, her arms filled with presents. George quickened his pace and easily overtook his friend.

"Hey Mione," He said resting his hand on her back, "Want a hand with those?" Hermione nodded and George took several of the presents. "Hey, you ok?" George asked tentatively, worried about offending his friend. Hermione, however, didn't seem bothered by his question. She shook her head in response, her jaw slightly clenched. "Do you want me to come over for a bit?" He asked hopefully. Hermione nodded. Silently, the pair made their way to Hermione's living quarters.

Author's Note: I don't particularly care for the nickname Mione either, but it makes more sense to say, since Hermione seems like a mouthful. Thanks again for reading!