Author's Note
Please forgive any spelling and/or grammar errors. I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!
Sorry for this having several bits that are pretty Ron-centric, but I imagine a romantic situation involving brothers would be a rather delicate situation that would require clearing the air quite a bit to make sure everyone was on the same page. Aside from actually telling the family (which will happen in the next chapter) Ron is in the past.
PS I'm not JK Rowling, so I don't own anything :(
Chapter 14
July 1998
Sidmouth
"Where are we?" I asked, turning in a circle. We were on a beach partially hidden by some jagged, sea warped rocks. The turbulent grey-blue ocean was in one direction, and a number of small shops, typical of a touristy coastal town, were in another.
It had been enormously risky Apparating during the day to such an open location! What if we'd been seen? Despite that, I couldn't bring myself to berate him, choosing to bite my tongue instead. George was an adult and knew what he was doing. Plus, I'd done the same a number of times during the last year. Little worries like being seen didn't seem as pressing as they once had. It was an easy enough fix if it did happen.
"Sidmouth," George said grinning. He clasped my hand and tugged me towards the streets lined with local souvenir shops and boutiques, and away from the foaming surf's edge and continually shifting sand beneath our feet. We strolled at a leisurely pace, obviously in no hurry to arrive at our mysterious destination.
The moment I'd agreed to a date George had grabbed my hand and Disapparated. Perhaps he'd thought I'd change my mind? Or maybe he figured we'd get stopped on the way out if we'd gone back through the bustling party… Regardless, I had no clue why we'd traveled to a town about ten miles from the Burrow.
"Why did you bring us here?" I asked patiently.
"Ice cream," he said simply.
"You're taking me for ice cream? At a Muggle place?" I asked incredulously, although highly amused. When would he have even had an opportunity to find a Muggle shop when most wizards were content visiting Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour in Diagon Alley?
"It's not just any ice cream," he said, mock scandalized. He rounded on me, hand pressed over his heart.
"I suppose this is the best you've ever had?" I intoned dryly.
"Precisely!" he exclaimed, nodding in agreement. He began walking backwards so he could face me as we spoke.
"How did you ever stumble upon this miraculous find?" I asked, playing along since he seemed to be enjoying sharing this tale.
Several times I was forced to reach out and nudge him one way or another so he didn't accidentally run into a hapless bystander. He maneuvered with ease, following my adjustments without missing a beat.
"Well, since you asked… it was during a grand adventure!" he exclaimed dramatically.
"And I suppose you weren't doing anything wrong during this grand adventure?"
"'Course I was! That's what made it so fun," he said devilishly. Laughter burst from me. He truly was incorrigible!
"Well, go on then - tell me, how did this escapade begin?"
"It was on a summer day," he said, puffing up and flourishing his arms like a master storyteller, "much like this one. Fred and I were bored, as we often were when left to our own devices… "
"Merlin, your poor mum," I interrupted, shaking my head as the image of the identical children intent on making mischief appeared. "What with the pair of you on the loose!"
"You wound me, Hermione, truly!" At my raised brow, he chuckled and continued, "We'd just gotten in trouble with Mum for making her favorite cauldron explode - wasn't our fault, mind you -"
"No. I'm sure it was a couple of the other troublemaking brothers you have… " I interjected, grabbing his arm to stop him from tripping over a broken piece of sidewalk he'd been about to catch his foot on. He brought my hand up and bent over it to place a galant kiss on the back. I sighed exaggeratedly at the show, but secretly felt pleased.
"Where was I? Oh, right, we'd been falsely accused, so we'd headed out back to nurse our grievance. That was when we'd discovered Bill and Charlie had accidently left the broomshed unlocked."
"Truly? Or was this just one of the many times you mastered your lockpicking skills?"
"You know, the exact details are a little fuzzy… hmm… can't say for sure," he prevaricated, expression one of total innocence. He'd certainly had enough practice over the years to perfect the look.
"Of course," I said, going along with his preferred version of events. "So you assumed that their convenient mistake was an opportunity for you?"
"Naturally. We decided to fly as far as we could, which considering we were six at the time… was only as far as Sidmouth."
"Well, for six-year-olds it is ever so far," I acknowledged.
"That's what we thought! So while we were here, we happened upon the most marvelous little ice cream shop. It was hot, being summer, and flying is hungry business. But we didn't have any money… "
"Did you come back to try it?"
"Oh, my dear, Hermione, do you not know us-me at all? We charmed the owner into giving us some for free," he said as if it should have been obvious all along, and knowing the twins, it really should have been. I ignored his slip and subsequent correction, reluctant to bring down his mood when he was sharing a piece of his past with me.
"George!" I said, slightly disapproving. "And I imagine you came back after that looking for more free handouts?"
"Repeatedly," he said, completely unrepentantly. "It's the best, after all. Though it's been a few years since I came here."
"Did you ever end up paying for any?" I asked curiously. I could envision how difficult it would be to turn the Weasley twins away empty handed. They were likely adorable. I'd never seen any pictures. Next time I visited the Burrow, I'd have to look for some. Surly Mrs. Weasley's anger with me wouldn't extend so far as to refuse to show off pictures of her boys. Though it might be better to wait a while before asking…
"Now, now, don't make any assumptions like that," he said, spinning back around and taking my hand again as he lead me into a quaint, sweet smelling shop painted sky blue. I noticed he didn't answer my question.
"Scamp," I muttered. He squeezed my fingers, letting me know he'd heard and didn't disagree with my frank assessment.
After getting our ice cream, boysenberry with chocolate sauce for me and salted caramel for him, we sat outside under the warm summer sun. The wrought iron tables were positioned along the front of the shop, and the place next door had an artist out front currently painting an enchanting view of the nearby cliffs. The breeze off the ocean was pleasantly cooling. We people watched for a while, coming up with elaborate stories and backgrounds for everyone that walked passed, particularly those that looked at the completed paintings the artist had out on display.
Part of me worried that Harry would be hurt if he noticed our absence, but mostly I assumed Ginny would serve as a pleasant distraction if he did pick up on our abrupt departure.
"Have you eaten anything else today?" I asked curiously. He'd completely devoured his dessert, and I knew he'd been late to the party so he likely hadn't had a chance to eat there.
"Just a bit. Are you interested in grabbing a bite after this?" he asked, looking just a touch uncertain as he shifted in his seat. "Or we could do something else, rent bikes or kayaks, whatever… "
"Dinner works," I assured him. I think it was the first time I'd ever seen him look so blatantly nervous. When he sighed in relief, I added, "We're having dessert first. Isn't that a little backwards?"
"You sure are hung up on doing things in the right order," he said meaningfully. I flushed at the pointed assessment. "Sometimes it's nice to get to the good part first - maybe it could be sort of… our thing."
I wanted to kiss him so much just then. There weren't really many people around, but I didn't know if he'd want me to claim him so publically. I bit my lip, staring up at him and searching his expression for a sign that my advance would be welcome. He took the initiative, bending forward to gently kiss me. Once, twice, then softly teasing my lips apart and darting his tongue inside for the briefest caress before pulling back.
It was like I'd finally come home. After the war and everything with my parents, I didn't really have a home anymore. Harry let me stay with him at Grimmauld Place, but that wasn't home - it was just a place to sleep at night. But being in George's arms made me feel like I finally found where I belonged. It was peace and rightness. I never considered that maybe a person rather than a place would be my home, but perhaps it was.
"I've wanted to do that since we got here, but I wasn't sure if you'd want me to," I admitted as he brushed a hand along my cheek.
"I'll always want you to. Don't ever hesitate," he instructed, and we shared a grin.
We walked around for a bit before looking for a place to eat dinner, casually talking and joking. It was relaxing and wonderful. I wished the day could stretch out forever or that everyday would consist of similar experiences.
At one point we passed by a playground and George stopped immediately, eyes lighting up. There were only a few pieces of playground equipment: monkey bars, roundabout, swingset, teeter totter, and slide scattered around a small grass square. Off to one side was a picnic table and a wooden bench, likely for parents to use while their children played nearby. "We have to!" he insisted.
"Seriously?"
"It'll be fun. I haven't been on a Muggle playground in -"
"Don't say years. I'll never believe it," I said, laughing as he pulled me over to the swingset. It was old, and only had two swings. There was a place for a third, but the chain had broken and the rubber seat hung forlornly, dangling uselessly. "I never really spent much time on playgrounds growing up."
"Because it's hard to imitate a monkey while reading a book?" George teased, though he looked genuinely curious to hear what I had to say.
"Am I that predictable?"
It was true. If something interfered with learning, and the time I devoted to pursuing knowledge, I typically avoided it. Learning had always been what I found to be most enjoyable. I excelled at it. Sports and outdoor activities, really anything that required excellent hand-eye coordination were more difficult for me and therefore less enjoyable. I had never been all right with being less than perfect. And the easiest way to ensure I was always the best was to only participate in those things I knew I was certain to succeed in.
"Yes, but it's never too late to learn to enjoy something new," he said, taking the swing to my left and seeing if I would accept his challenge. I did at once, pleased when he smirked and leaned back to get started.
"If anyone has the ability to inspire me to play more, it'll be you," I agreed, pushing hard off the ground and pumping my legs to get going.
It seemed easier to try with him. There was less pressure to excel. It was more about have as much fun as possible, which with George around was easy to do.
I particularly liked that he was trying things that didn't include flying or Quidditch. That had always been one of my fears with Ron. Those were his passions and the only things he truly wanted to do when he had free time. I could watch a game of Quidditch, sure, but I had no desire to participate. And I most definitely didn't want it to consume every free moment I had. Ron and my lack of shared interests had meant we'd never really be able to do anything together that we both enjoyed. Someone was always bound to be miserable. George seemed open to getting me to try new things and find something we'd both enjoy.
I had to stop comparing the two. It left a nasty feeling inside each time I did - however unintentionally. It was almost as if I'd drunk curdled milk and the result was a pressing need to vomit as it roiled and churned in my gut.
"I told Ginny," I blurted suddenly, toeing the worn dirt path beneath my feet. It was the first thought I had that wasn't about Ron, and it spilled out without much forethought.
"You did?" George questioned, his feet scraping the ground as he skidded to a stop. He looked at me for several moments before starting back up at a slow pace.
"Yes. I'm sorry. I know it was private, but -"
"No, it's fine. I'd have told Fred if he were here," he admitted, and I knew it to be the truth. He never would have kept it secret from his twin.
"Thanks," I sighed.
"Not sure I particularly like my baby sister knowing what I'm getting up to though," he added, cringing a bit.
"I'll refrain from sharing too many details in the future," I promised.
"Right then," he said, the matter settled. He launched himself back into the air asking, "How high can you go? I bet I can go higher!"
We spent the next ten minutes seeing who could go the highest and laughing when George would jump just when the swing reached the pinnacle. One time he managed to throw in a somersault and my heart nearly burst from my chest when he stumbled and fell to his knees when landing. He rolled over, laughing up at me, but I was clutching my chest and staring at him incredulously. I'm pretty sure my heart stopped momentarily.
After that, he settled for pushing me as he told me about some of the more daring antics he and Fred did when learning to fly. Because apparently it was easier to do a flip off the broom since it went higher. As someone who hated heights, my stomach pitched unpleasantly just hearing about the crazy things he'd done. He laughed at me and said he'd get me on a broom again at some point in the near future. He seemed not to notice when I hedged instead of agreeing.
We tried to take a spin on the roundabout, but it was old and broken with paint peeling off the worn wood, and rust having eaten through most of metal bars. I tried casting a discreet Reparo, but it didn't have any effect on the gears rusted together after what likely amounted to years of neglect. And when I refused to go down the slide while wearing a dress, even if it was starting to get dark out, George decided it was time to call it a day and grab dinner. I hoped he talked me into doing something similar to this soon.
During dinner, George told me about how Fred had planned to propose to Angelina if they got back together after the war. I think I sat in stunned silence for at least five minutes after that revelation. Fred really hadn't seemed the type to settle down so young, especially not with his first love. I guess I had always pictured him as more wild, more like the stories I'd heard about Bill in the years after he'd graduated and before he'd met Fleur. When I voiced as much, George laughed and agreed, saying it had surprised him nearly as much. He'd also added that Fred had been delighted by the idea that Mum would have conniptions over it, seeing as how young they were. But aside from all that, he truly had loved Angie. I hated Voldemort all over again for all the devastation he'd caused and the lives he'd ruined.
After that, I'd shared my experience camping with Ron and Harry during the last year. He'd already guessed a lot of it when he'd seen me at Christmas, but this time I didn't spare any of the details - including owning up to everything we've been doing and all that our mission had entailed for Dumbledore. He was shocked and disgusted in equal measure when I explained about the Horcruxes. Eventually, I'd have to tell Harry about filling George in, but I hoped he'd understand considering I knew he told Ginny. For me, it was the same thing. George deserved to know everything. He and I needed to be on equal footing moving forward.
We ended the night by George Side-Along-Apparating me back to the square in front of 12 Grimmauld Place. He kissed me tenderly goodnight under the soft glow of the street lights and flashing lightning bugs. The sounds of the distant traffic were muted the moment our lips touched. I promised to see him bright and early the next morning when we went to work on righting the shop.
August 1998
WWW
The first day in the shop was spent cleaning and reorganizing everything to how it had been before the Death Eaters had destroyed the twins' beloved store. The storage room was easy to clean up and only took about an hour since all we had to do was toss the damaged products, salvage items that were intact but needed new packaging, and restack the items that could still be sold as is. Some of the boxes were so badly squished you couldn't even tell what they used to contain. It was the same in the main room of the shop. We finished those before lunch, even with interruptions and frequent breaks for kissing and light fooling around.
It seemed neither of us were capable of keeping our hands to ourselves now that we had the freedom to express our interest in one another. At one point, George pinned me against one of his shelving units in the store room and kissed me until my head was spinning and I was so dizzy and lightheaded from oxygen deprivation that I saw bright bursts of starlight behind my eyelids. He'd looked ever so smug when he eventually released me and went back to cleaning up.
It took longer than I expected, all of the afternoon in fact, to clean and organize the prep room though because some of the ingredients had been spilt, and their sensitive nature meant special means were required for disposing of them properly. Once all of the hazardous material was removed, a number of useful Cleaning Charms would take care of the bulk of the remaining mess.
We'd just gotten started in the prep room when I was looking over a set of instructions for creating the Ten-Second Pimple Vanisher potion. Something about it seemed off. "What were your O.W.L.s again?"
"DADA, Charms, and Transfiguration, why?" he answered without looking up from where he was taking inventory of his remaining supplies.
I looked back at the complicated potion. They'd mixed fluxweed with horklump juice and added a quarter counterclockwise turn after every third stir. I would never have considered that combination. The fluid and transformative properties of the fluxweed were balanced with the healing nature of the horklump juice. And the stirring method made sense if they were trying to isolate where the temporary healing was to occur.
"What were Fred's?" I asked, more like demanded while reaching for another parchment sheet of precise and carefully written instructions, this time for creating a joke wand. This was extremely complex magic with unheard of combinations. The time and research, though more likely simple trial and error in the twins' case, was staggering. No wonder their products were so unique and innovative!
"DADA, Charms, and Herbology. Hermione, you all right over there?" he asked, apparently noticing that I was in awe as I scanned their product recipes.
"No Potions?" I clarified, wondering how it was even possible for them to know what they did without taking the advanced levels of the class.
"Ugh! No way. Two extra years of Snape? Definitely not - even if he did turn out to be a bit less slimy in the end," George said with a mock shutter. I glared at his for disparaging the professor that had given his life for Harry, but refused to be lead off topic.
"You really only got three O.W.L.s?" I questioned, denial and disbelief evident in my quiet question.
"You're horrified, aren't you?" he asked, grinning. He looked thrilled to see me so rattled.
"A little," I admitted. "I mean… you're obviously brilliant! How you ever developed half of this stuff… it-it's absolutely remarkable," I said, shaking my head and waving the parchments I was holding for emphasis.
"Why thank you, Miss Granger," he said, striding over and kissing me softly. "I've been waiting years for you to admit that I'm smarter than you."
"I wouldn't go that far," I huffed, getting lost in the feel of him when his lips tasted mine again. He always tasted sweet, like Butterbeer. I suppose years of going without sugar meant that now I craved it like a fiend - making up for lost time.
"This was more fun than work anyways," he breathed, tilting his head to nibble at the sensitive spot on my neck that he'd recently discovered always made me groan.
"George! I'm serious," I said, drawing back a little to talk to him about his work. "How could you possibly fail the exams when it's clear you have such thorough understanding -"
"We didn't want to pass," he said simply, shrugging as he stood up straight. He seemed to instinctively know I wasn't letting this go until we'd had a proper conversation about it.
"You failed on purpose?" I asked, my heart giving a jerky horrified beat at the very thought.
"We knew Mum would make us take the classes if we passed any others so we deliberately failed to have more time to work on our stuff."
"Hmph," I said, slightly strangled.
"It's really the school's fault," he added, unable to hide his overwhelming joy at seeing me so thoroughly distraught over his decision and disregard for school and the whole education process.
"How ever did you come to that conclusion?" I demanded.
"They don't really offer independent study projects - well, they do, but only for traditional research. There's nothing for experimental study."
"No. I guess not," I agreed cautiously.
"Though Dumbledore did give us a room to use during sixth year so we'd stop causing explosions in the boy's dorm… "
I felt a little better knowing Dumbledore had sanctioned their activities, and knowing that the results had been successful given what I'd seen of their shop. Then another thought occurred to me. "Why did you pick those courses?"
"DADA because of the war. We were both determined to fight so it made sense - even if we rarely had a decent professor. Charms because we were both really good at it, and Flitwick was good about helping us work out kinks with the ones we invented for products, so it was still useful to take from a business perspective. And Fred and I decided Transfiguration and Herbology would also be beneficial for creating products, so we split who would take which. That way we wouldn't both have to waste time - uh - yeah," he finished sheepishly.
"You guys had it all worked out… "
"Yeah… before… " A pall fell over the moment and suddenly George was a solitary figure doing what had once been a shared dream all on his own. He was only ever meant to be one half of the equation. Now he was forced to become everything.
"How are you holding up? Today must have been hard," I said, adjusting to the change in atmosphere.
"It wasn't what I expected. It's… " he trailed off, moving to prop himself against the nearby wall. His hands opened and closed, like he was reaching for the words to give voice to his thoughts, but they wouldn't come. "It's not okay. I'm not okay. But I also know there's nothing I can do about it. I just feel… "
"Helpless," I supplied, and he winced. But then he nodded, looking away and getting back to work without another word.
I had a feeling helpless wasn't an emotion he was overly familiar with. This shop was proof enough that he'd been largely in control of nearly every aspect of his life for a very long time. And it wasn't like he or Fred had ever really let Mrs. Weasley control them. Now he was at the mercy of circumstance. He was holding up better than most, but it was still challenging.
He didn't speak for a long time, and I went back to organizing the workbench.
"Thanks for being here," he whispered. He remained focused on rebottling some spilled powder, so I didn't say anything, but I did note that the tense line of his shoulders relaxed noticeably and we fell into a companionable silence while we worked for the next few hours.
We were nearly finished and just about ready to call it a day when I cornered him, blocking his path to the door. He eyed me brazenly, but kept a nearly tangible bubble of space between us acting as a buffer. Part of me realized he was waiting for me to make the next move, to be the one to decide the next time we were together and initiate it. There had been a great deal of kissing and touching throughout the day, but nothing overly sexual. At least not before now.
"The other day," I began, pausing to swallow nervously. "You promised me something."
He blinked, adorably confused before saying, "Sorry? You'll have to refresh my memory."
"Before we were together, you said… " I trailed off, face flushing uncomfortably. It was harder to voice my desire than I expected. I gathered up a significant amount of my Gryffindor courage and forced myself to boldly continue, "You said I could explore you too - like what you did to me."
The sight of his eager anticipation made my embarrassment worth it. He grabbed my hand and started upstairs immediately to get started, practically dragging me along behind him. We only made it just inside the door before he had both of our shirts off, and both of our hands were seeking as much of the other as possible.
That night he convinced me to stay with him again, and our second time together was as perfect as the first, and significantly more enjoyable. The discomfort had been nearly nonexistent this time.
We'd had dinner in bed afterwards. It felt decadent and hedonistic. George had the ability to make me feel sensual and feminine without having to sacrifice my intelligence. It was a delicate balance I never expected to find, but was nonetheless immensely grateful for.
Over the next couple days, several other Weasleys and Harry had stopped in at one point or another to offer help and donate an hour or two to getting the shop back up and running. Most were surprised by my presence, but brushed it off quickly enough when I pointed out that I had nothing else to occupy my time with this summer since I'd declined Kingsley's offer to become an Auror with Ron and Harry.
Kingsley had also offered me the opportunity to come in and help at the Ministry this summer when I'd gotten back from Australia, but I declined. He was curious when I did, but I explained my refusal by saying, "How can I expect people to take me seriously when I can't back up my intelligence with N.E.W.T. results? I have to finish Hogwarts before I even attempt to take on the Ministry and all that needs doing there." He'd chuckled his deep, soothing laugh and said, "Come see me once the results are in. I'm certain we'll have a job waiting for you."
It was on the sixth day that Ron stopped in. He took one look at me then, in his usual brusk tone, demanded, "Where's George?"
"He had to run an errand," I said, standing uncertainly. Being forced to face him without having time to mental prepare and brace myself was not on my list of things to do today, and definitely not something I wanted to do less than an hour after George had convinced me to participate in a very pleasant round of sex with him in the store room next door.
The last couple days had been eye-opening as I discovered George was as inventive in the bedroom, and out, as he was when it came to pranks. Different positions and a variety of places, not to mention every time of day or night. His creativeness was the perfect balance for my inquisitive nature. I was always eager to learn something new, and he was more than willing come up with new ways to satisfy my curiosity.
"And he left you here alone?" Ron asked suspiciously, cutting into my remembrance of George using one hand to massage my clit while the other used the shelves as leverage as he drove into me from behind. We hadn't even bothered to undress more than the bare minimum necessary before the frantic coupling began. It had been hot and fast, leaving me weak-kneed and panting, my screams muffled against my forearm on the shelf in front of me by the time it was over.
"Yes, Ron," I said, sighing tiredly. I didn't want to defend myself as if I couldn't be trusted without supervision. I was always too blunt or spoke without thinking when Ron provoked me. Today was not the day for that. "Do -"
"Why are you here?" he asked distractedly, looking around at the progress we'd already made.
I hesitated, feeling trapped. George and I hadn't yet discussed telling his family about us. It was still so new. I didn't want the outside world feeling entitled to way in yet. And telling Ron was something I was not looking forward to. I hadn't even figured out if the news would be better coming from George or me yet.
"I'm helping out. School doesn't start for a couple more weeks," I said, settling for an evasive response.
"Right. You're leaving soon," he said, looking back at me. He didn't move. Was he waiting for me to say something? Apologize again maybe? Or did he miss our friendship as much as I did?
I'd never admit it to George, but I missed Ron. I missed fighting with him - as insane as that was. I missing losing chess matches to him. I missed watching him and Harry play Quidditch. I missed someone knowing every detail about me even if that person was typically oblivious. I missed his stupid, infuriating comments. I missed my friend.
I'd been happy, happier than I imagined possible these last few days with George, but I couldn't deny that it'd be even better if I could share my newfound happiness with my friends - not that it wouldn't take a while for Ron to share in my happiness, but that wasn't the point.
When Ron remained, waiting, I ventured, "Did you want to stay and help me?"
"No," he said immediately, frowning at me. Had I said something wrong? "I should be getting back to the Ministry."
"Oh… " I whispered, deflating a bit. He really wasn't ready to forgive me for not wanting him.
"Lunch is almost over - we have a test this afternoon so I really can't stay. Er - sorry," he mumbled, adding, "I just wanted to check on George."
"I'll tell him you stopped by," I offered. He looked confused, brow furrowed as he stared at me, still not leaving. "Ron -"
"Bye, Hermione," he said, turning abruptly to go, the door swinging shut behind him with a deafening click in the silent room. I swallowed back the tears that threatened, resigned to things taking time.
George returned about an hour later, and I was just finishing making all of the Skiving Snackbox products. He'd laughed uproariously this morning after seeing my expression when he'd asked me to make the additional replacement stock of them. I'd lectured him for a good ten minutes on what a bad idea selling the items to misbehaving students was, but in the end I'd conceded and set about making them. He was busy acquiring supplies today, so he'd been in and out too often to help with preparations himself.
A few of the ingredients he needed had been particularly tricky to get a hold of. Knockturn Alley didn't have them in stock just now with the Ministry on the lookout for any suspicious dealings, and Mundungus was no help seeing as someone in the Auror department had arrested him two days ago. I'd asked Harry about it, but all he'd been able to say was that Mundungus was getting a slap on the wrist and wouldn't be serving any time in Azkaban - not that he needed to know that just yet. I don't think Harry minded overly much that Mundungus was apprehended after the trouble he'd caused us, Harry in particular. But I also knew Harry was after true Death Eaters, and Mundungus, for all his faults, didn't qualify. Though he was proving helpful in the meantime by providing information on the whereabouts of some of the at-large Death Eaters that had escaped Hogwarts after the battle.
Regardless, the arrest was making things a bit inconvenient for George and was partly responsible for delaying his reopening.
"It's done," he announced, striding over and offering a kiss.
"Of course it is," I said, amused. "What was it you were referring to again?"
"Oh, right - sorry. Verity agreed to come back. She'll start up again when I open next week," he said, sitting on the table beside where I was working.
"The girl that worked here before?" I asked, the name was familiar.
"Yeah, why? Are you jealous?" he asked, playfully tugging on my braid.
"No. I know I don't need to be," I said, pulling free and turning to smile at him.
It was comforting feeling secure in his feelings for me. I hated thinking it, but I knew if it was Ron, I'd always wonder if he was looking elsewhere hoping for interest from a prettier girl. Ron had never made any secret about how much appearance mattered to him. I could be very pretty when I tried, but I was certainly not a great beauty, and I honestly rarely put the effort in to enhance my looks overly much. As a result, I'd always have been insecure with Ron. George, by contrast, made me feel like I was the only witch in the world he even noticed.
"No, you don't," he confirmed, reaching to slip a hand under my shirt as he leaned closer.
"George, wait," I gasped, the comparison reminding me of his visitor. "Ron stopped in while you were out."
"Oh?" His lips and hands froze, but his face remained pressed against my neck, hiding his expression. "How was that?" he asked carefully.
"He was Ron."
"'Course he was a prat, but are you all right?"
I read the unspoken question and chose to answer it instead. "You don't need to be jealous either. I'm all in," I vowed, echoing his words back to him.
"I know," he said, straightening and grinning cockily. "I just wanted to hear you say it." I smacked him playfully. "But really, was he awful?"
"No. It was much more civil than I expected. I really hurt him."
"I'm sorry," he whispered, ducking his head.
"You didn't do anything wrong. It's not as though you deliberately set out to hurt him, and you didn't try to take me from him or anything. You never even said a word or let me know how you felt until last week, and Ron and I were over by then. We were never actually together. There wasn't ever an opportunity between Lavender and helping Harry and everything else that happened. And by the time there was one… I no longer felt that way about him," I assured George. "But we should talk about when we're going to tell everyone," I ventured.
"I think we should wait," he said. His response came so readily that I knew he'd already been considering it as much as I had. Neither of us wanted to hurt Ron more than necessary, and he needed a bit more time to move on before he heard about this.
"Me too," I agreed.
"That was easy," he said, a wicked gleam in his eye as he pulled me between his parted knees. "I do want to tell Lee though," George confessed, linking his hands with mine.
"I think you should," I said, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze in reassurance. "I might tell Harry too before I go back to school."
"Figured you already had, or Ginny would," George said, pulling me closer. "I'm all right with it. Lee's coming over for dinner. Want to join us? We could tell him then."
It'd be nice getting to know Lee more. He was George's best friend and I'd probably be spending a lot of time with him in the future.
"Next time? I promised Neville I'd meet him and Harry for dinner tonight. I haven't spent much time with them this week… " Ron and I were currently trading off who got to spend time with Harry, and tonight was my turn.
"Hmm, some bloke has been too busy ravishing you," he teased, his hand circling around the back of my neck to tug me close for a kiss, but I evaded him.
"I think I like the thought of me ravishing you more just now," I said, sliding a hand provocatively over his thigh.
"It's like that is it," he breathed, visibly swallowing when my fingers brushed him through the pants he wore beneath his open work robes.
"Yes," I informed him, moving to kneel before him. My hands skated up and down, slowly inching higher on each pass as I scooted closer. George helpfully spread his legs a little wider to give me better access.
"I'm at your disposal. Use me, please," he begged just as I freed his length and wrapped my fingers around the base of his shaft.
Leaning forward, I swiped my tongue over the crown before gently blowing and making him jump and gasp as he twitched in my hand. I repeated the action, eager to watch him respond to the stimuli. This was the second time I'd done this, and I found it fascinating. There was an unpredictable sense of anticipation to it the process - not to mention how it made my heart race to know I was the reason behind George coming so completely undone.
His breathing got heavier when I traced the tip of my tongue over his slit and around the head teasingly. All the while my fingers lightly squeezed and stroked up from the base, never delivering the pressure he craved.
"Please, Hermione. You're killing me here," George begged, hands gripping the sides of the desk so hard his knuckles had turned white making his freckles look even darker by contrast.
His words spurred me forward and I finally took him fully into my mouth, at least as much as would fit. It would take additional practice to accept more of him. Hopefully he wouldn't mind the extra homework.
George moaned and pleaded with me, urging me on and praising me as I greedily licked and sucked his length. He tasted interesting, something I couldn't really find words to describe aside from distinctly male. And the feel of him was the most intriguing of all; the contract between soft and hard, along with the intense heat was fascinating. It all combined to make me nearly as aroused as I was making George.
I felt his fingers card through my hair when he was close, his hand gently cupping the back of my head. "Hermione, I'm - ahh - almost - mmm." His words were barely coherent at this point, but I heard him anyways.
When he reached his climax, I sucked harder and swallowed every drop, lapping at him until he was completely spent. Afterwards, I sat back feeling supremely satisfied with myself. George was flushed and breathing hard. His pupils were still dilated and his mouth was hanging slightly open as he stared down at me.
"That was… " he breathed, shaking his head as words eluded him.
"Better this time?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. He released a single loud laugh, letting his head fall back for a second before looking back at me.
The first time I'd kept stopping to ask questions and make sure I was doing everything correctly. He'd eventually groaned and said flat out that I was absolutely torturing him because he wanted me so much that anything I did felt great, but that if I was so worried, I should repeat the things that invoked the biggest reactions and he'd tell me straight out if I did something he didn't like. That advice had been extremely helpful and easy to follow this time. Each time we were together it got easier to trust his reactions to act as a guide for what I should do.
"Understatement," he confirmed, offering a hand to help me stand. "Lee will be here soon, but I'm sure he won't mind waiting."
"Can't. I'm already running late," I said apologetically. The need burning between my thighs gave a particularly noticeable throb at the idea of being denied.
George glanced down at his still open pants and his semierect cock, then back up at me. "And people say I'm the devious one," he muttered.
"I'll be back later," I promised and laughed, giving him a quick peck before turning to leave, hastily attempting to tuck my loosened, disheveled hair back into some semblance of a braid before joining the boys down the street at the Leaky Cauldron.
Even with the additional help on top of all the time George and I put in, it took the better part of a week and a half before he was actually ready to reopen. Apparently, the twins had spent those last couple months at Hogwarts stockpiling products rather than attending classes. While part of me was horrified, another recognized it as ingenious planning.
We were finishing the last of the flashy, colorful displays in the main room so everything would be ready for the back-to-school shoppers the next morning. It was later than usual, but we were nearly done.
"When?" I asked suddenly. When George glanced at me, I added, "How long?" When he still looked confused, I clarified, "When did you first -"
"When did I first start having feelings for you?" he guessed. I nodded and he flushed, looking away before admitting, "Sixth year."
"When you saw me dressed up for the first time - the Yule Ball?" I assumed, slightly disheartened. Why did I have to wear a dress to get a bloke to notice me? That was when Ron first realized I was a girl too.
"No, actually. It was before that."
"What?" Now it was my turn to be confused.
"When you stood by Harry. After he was named champion and everyone else turned their backs on him - including Ron. You picked Harry's side, despite having feelings for Ron, because you knew it was the right thing to do and that Harry needed you. I found that very admirable… and admiration was quickly followed by lust." He grinned, moving to sit beside me. "Sorry, I am still just a bloke and I was sixteen at the time."
"Really?" I couldn't find anymore words.
He shook his head, seeming to remember something specific. When I elbowed him, wanting to be let in on the secret, he said, "I wanted to snog you silly every time you'd get all fired up and start lecturing or yelling at someone. Every - single - time! You're so passionate - about everything - it's rather stimulating," he finished, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
"I can't believe -"
"Believe it," he insisted.
"That long? Why didn't you ever… " I trailed off when he sighed, rubbing his face tiredly.
"Ron. He's my brother, and I'd never do that to him - especially if he was who you wanted as well. When it looked like he wasn't going to ask you the ball that year, I considered asking you myself. I wanted to so much, but even that felt like a betrayal and I knew he didn't have feelings for you then. But I knew he would one day and that you already liked him. It was so obvious," he said, talking fast as he made his confession. "Then Ginny warned me that you had a date already, so I asked Alicia and well… "
They'd dated the rest of the year. He'd already told me that she'd been the first of two girls that he'd slept with before me. That had been an awkward conversation the other night when I'd finally gotten around to bring the topic up. The other had been a Ravenclaw, Evelyn, a couple years ahead of him at Hogwarts that he'd meet when they'd first opened WWW. He'd figured out pretty quick that they weren't compatible though and it had ended on decent terms. He'd seemed reluctant to talk more about what happened with either girl, but I really wanted to know more.
"I never had any idea," I said, amazed and slightly stunned. If he hadn't told me himself, I never would have guessed or believed it. "Is that why you and Alicia… " I trailed off, hoping he wouldn't mind my prying a bit.
"Partly. It didn't seem right to be with her when I really wanted to be with you." So that was the reason. I felt guilty despite not having done anything wrong.
"And after you broke up?"
"I promised myself I'd move on when you and Ron finally got together. But then you didn't. Again and again - you didn't. Each time I thought for sure you would, you… well… didn't. So I couldn't move on, not really when I was secretly still holding out hope. Then Mum said something about you and Ron when you went back to Hogwarts for your sixth year and I thought it finally happened, but I found out at Christmas that he was dating Lavender. He'd been the one to move on instead so I was back to hoping."
"That was when you and Evelyn broke things off," I guessed and he nodded in confirmation. "And last summer?"
"Was rough. You both still had feeling for each other, but he was being a prat. I even gave him a book to help him try to do better by you -"
"You what?" I demanded.
"Er - it was a book Bill gave Fred and me. We just passed it along. During the Order meeting last summer he was a right git to you. But if he was who you wanted… I wanted you to be happy. So Fred and I tried to help him get it together a bit," George admitted.
"I can't believe you did that. No wonder he started giving me compliments and being overly nice," I said, uncertain how I felt about this newest revelation.
"Obviously it wasn't… well, we're here now," George said uncomfortably. He'd tried to help his brother despite being in love with me himself. If it had worked…
"You're incredible," I whispered, unable to think of anything else to say.
"I'm guessing it hasn't been as long for you," he prodded, redirecting the conversation. He was trying to mask his anxiety over my answer, but I was getting better at reading him, and saw the signs.
"No," I admitted.
He hesitated, almost as if he didn't want to know the answer, but forged ahead anyways, blurting, "How long then?"
I thought about it carefully. The first time I realized I might have feelings for him was when he'd helped me with my parents. But I'd still been so hung up on Ron that I hadn't wanted to acknowledge them. Since we'd gotten together, I'd thought more about it, and I'd been forced to realize that they'd been there for a while before that, just buried deep. It had been too easy to turn to him as often as I had for them not to already exist, even if only subconsciously.
"Before sixth year," I finally said, explaining, "when I saw how successful your shop was." His brow wrinkled, and I wondered if other witches had approached him once they realized how wealthy the twins were becoming. I hurried to add, "I saw how accomplished you were - not your gags or your jokes or your pranks, which truly are remarkable, but your capability to manage the shop. There's so much behind the scenes that goes into being a successful businessman. And when Ron mentioned that you ran that side of things… I think it would be accurate to say I started to admire you," I teased, using his word, and throwing in, "and it doesn't hurt that you have a body that is definitely worthy of a Daydream Charm."
He looked amazed that I had said something he had not expected, but secretly longed to hear.
Nothing more was said on the topic. But that night when we were together it was different. Every touch was achingly soft and deliberate. It was slow, careful… loving. It was the first time we were together and it felt worthy of the expression "making love" rather than a release of passion and desire.
The last few weeks of summer passed in a blur. The grand reopening was a success and a few days after that George began interviewing people to look for an assistant to help him with creating products once I went back to Hogwarts. He wanted to return to the development and business side of things, with Verity in charge of customer service like before, and add someone else to take on the day-to-day production tasks.
We had a celebratory dinner the day he reopened, along with Verity and Lee, who had taken off work to help out with everything. It was fun to watch Lee and George laugh and joke. Occasionally, one would say something and there would be an unusually elongated pause before the other spoke. It was probably the fourth or fifth time it happened that I realized Fred was the reason. They naturally paused to give him time to chime in, only he was no longer around to take advantage. The trio had been nearly as close as Harry, Ron, and I, and certainly more vocal in their friendship. They were still adjusting to being a duo now.
After that, George and I settled into a routine. I continued helping at the store, but only a few hours a day now because I had also returned to my own interests of reading and researching. That was balanced with spending time with George. He'd either take a long lunch or leave early and we'd do something together. I think it occurred to each of us that our days of freely spending time together were limited as September first crept closer and closer.
The other day he'd even gone so far as to take the morning off, letting Verity open solo, so he could take me surfing and coasteering in Pembrokeshire. I'd admitted that I'd never done it and somehow he'd taken that as me confessing a burning desire to learn. It had undoubtedly been an unforgettable experience, and absolutely thrilling when I managed to catch a wave and soar all the way to the water's edge. Definitely better than flying. But I didn't think it was an adventure I planned to repeat on a regular basis. It was a little too outside my comfort zone and I just wasn't coordinated enough to be any good.
Plus the cliff-jumping had nearly stopped my heart. My fear of heights had kept me from jumping myself, choosing just to scramble around on the lower boulders, which was actually quite fun. Cliff-jumping though was too much of a reminder of being forced to jump from a dragon's back mid flight. But I watched as George jumped from higher and higher rock ledges. I screamed while he laughed each time he plummeted towards the crashing waves below.
August 1998
12 Grimmauld Place
A couple days before my return to Hogwarts, Harry cornered me coming home one morning to change clothes. It was rare for me not to stay at George's anymore, but I always came back to Grimmauld Place to change and get ready for the day. George and I had only been together for a few weeks and I wasn't going to ask him if I could start keeping personal items there. Not yet. Part of me hoped he'd offer before it became necessary for me to make the request.
"Did I do something wrong?" Harry asked, fidgeting with his glasses.
"No?" What was he talking about?
"I've looked for you after work the last couple days, but you haven't been around. And I waited up for you last night - you didn't come home. Did I make you think this wasn't your home or something?" Harry blurted, looking forlorn and concerned.
I'd been so caught up with George that I hadn't been making time for my best mate. I couldn't even remember the last time we sat down and talked for any length of time or did anything together. I figured he wouldn't notice because he was doing the same with Ginny before she went back to school and he had his stuff with the Aurors, but apparently he had.
"Of course not! Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you worry. I've just been out lately -"
"There are still Death Eaters out there. It's not safe for you to be alone," he cut in. Something must have happened at work for him to be this worried. He'd already told me he couldn't really talk about what he learned there, so I didn't ask, but knowing Harry as well as I did made it easy to read the concern on his face.
"I'm not, Harry," I said, attempting to reassure him.
"Not what?"
"Not alone," I admitted. Now seemed as good a time as any to tell him. "I've been with George."
"Oh, right. I forgot you've been helping at the store this summer," he said, breathing an audible sigh of relief.
"It's more than that, Harry," I said softly. "We're together."
"Together?" I chuckled at his confusion. Only Harry would misunderstand.
"We're seeing each other - romantically," I explained. Harry's mouth fell open. I feared his jaw was about to unhinge itself.
"You and George?"
"Yes, Harry - George," I reiterated, sighing when Harry's mouth opened and closed twice without any words coming out.
"I don't… " Harry finally began, then stopped before demanding, "What about Ron?"
"I grew up and what I wanted changed, Harry." Harry was staring at me like I'd grown a second head, so I went on. "Ron was my childhood crush, but this last year helped me figure out that we weren't right for each other," I explained, trying not to sound like I was blaming anyone for what happened. It wasn't anyone's fault. Sometimes feelings just change. It's better to acknowledge them than deny them and end up unhappy.
Harry was shaking his head before I finished though. "He loves you," he insisted. It sounded more like an accusation. "He wanted to be with you."
"He left us and I stopped trusting him. I can't love or be with someone I don't trust."
"But - but he came back," Harry said weakly.
"Yes, and what happened at Malfoy Manor helped me forgive him. But the damage was done. I had weeks to get over him, and I did. Once that happened… there was no going back."
"Can't you try?"
"Oh, Harry," I sighed, shaking my head. "I know you always pictured us ending up together. Especially after all the times you got caught in the middle, but even if we had tried, I don't think it would have worked out. We made each other miserable. We fought all the time about everything, and that wasn't ever going to change. He hates how bossy and critical I get, and that's a rather large part of who I am. I can't really shut it off, particularly when I don't agree with his decisions. Honestly, I think I made all of his inferiority issues worse. I don't want to do that to him," I said, unloading everything I had come to understand about the situation after considering it for so long.
"He was trying to get past that, be more of who you wanted him to be though," Harry defended on his friend's behalf.
"We could have tried, but if we had and it didn't end well… I think it would have been worse. Pent up anger and resentment can be impossible to get passed if you let it fester for too long. Besides, he shouldn't have to change. He needs someone that loves him exactly as he is. Or someone that inspires him to be better without it being so forced," I said. Poor Harry. He so wanted everyone to be happy and have everything work out. Sometimes that just wasn't possible. And unfortunately, this was one time Harry couldn't act the hero and fix things.
"But George? Why did you have to pick his brother over him. He's -"
"It wasn't as if I wanted it to happen! I can't help how I feel, Harry," I interrupted, feeling irked and defensive.
"You and George fought in school too," he said, but at seeing my annoyed expression, scrambled to add, "sorry, I'm just trying to understand."
"That was years ago. We're different people. He grew up… became a man I could easily fall in love with," I said simply.
"You're in love with him!" Harry exclaimed, mouth falling open again.
"Yes," I said, feeling as startled as Harry looked by the revelation. Considering it and voicing it were very different. Giddiness swelled within me, terrifying and thrilling all at once.
"When did this happen? How did I miss it?" Harry asked, looking amazed. I felt my brows raise incredulously, and I clamped my jaw shut to hold back a biting retort. When had Harry ever been the master observer when it came to matters of the heart?
"It's been coming on nearly a year -"
"That's why you took us to the twins' when I was hurt," Harry said as if the puzzle pieces had just clicked into place.
"Yes," I agreed. "We only recently worked things out between us, but we are together now," I said, feeling my lips spread into an impossibly wide smile.
"You're happy?" Harry asked, all protective-brother concern now.
"Very," I assured him.
"When are you telling Ron?" he asked, unable to hide his worry.
"I don't know," I whispered.
"Hermione, he's going to be devastated."
I sighed, scrubbing a hand tiredly over my face. "I know. We'll wait until he's had a chance to move on before we break the news," I vowed.
"Is George why you haven't been coming home at night?" Harry asked suddenly, staring at me in a way that spoke volumes. He'd just realized exactly how together George and I were.
"Harry -"
"Never mind!" he interrupted, throwing up his hands as if they had the power to block his ears from hearing whatever else I had to say. "Does anyone else know about this?"
"Just Lee. Oh, and Ginny," I admitted.
"She didn't tell me," he said, slightly hurt.
"It wasn't her secret to tell," I chided.
"Yeah," he said, slowly nodding in acknowledgement. "I never would have guessed," he muttered, understandably stunned. "This is serious, isn't it?"
"Yes," I admitted.
"If this is what you want, I'm happy for you."
"Thanks, Harry."