A/N: Hello dear readers! I know it's been a super duper long time since I've posted anything. I'm really flattered to know that people are still reading this and anticipating future chapters.
As you guys know, I've been going through a lot of real life stuff that kind of prevented me from doing any writing, and quite honestly, I lost the inspiration to write. My interests kind of jumped from one thing to another, but I think I'm back! My area was hit by Hurricane Harvey, and while my family and I were luckier and didn't sustain any major damage there are still a lot of things I have to do around the house which might delay future chapters. I've been living with family friends and with boyfriend since the hurricane hit, and I'm ready to sleep in my own bed now. _
But, regardless of my life, I'm just really grateful you guys are still here, and I hope you're not too antsy in your pantsy, haha.
Thanks again to my amazing friend, Mr. Benzedrine, for helping me with edits and ideas!
Surrounding the large oak work table seated three familiar individuals. They were typically seen together as a group, usually in social gatherings and family functions. The trio were not only known for their heroics during the Great Wizarding War; they were also recently made famous once again due to their successful gags, gifts, and galores. Hermione, Ron, and George discussed fervently among each other over the recent grand opening of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes in Dublin.
Their meetings were always hosted in Hermione's office. One, it was the cleanest of the three. Unsurprisingly, Ron's was always the messiest, and it wasn't even with relevant work things! When the two were still dating, the obsessively clean witch always desperately tried to maintain a tidy work environment for the redhead but to no avail. Somehow, Ron always managed to turn it back to a pigsty no less than a day later.
People say opposites attract, but thinking back on it now, Hermione simply couldn't understand what she found so enticing about the wizard. She found her thoughts wandering towards a certain blond; how his place was always kept so meticulously clean -of course, only when he wasn't on some sort of pity party. Being with someone like him would be much less of a headache in comparison to her business partner.
Hermione glanced over towards her longtime friend, pursing her lips ever so slightly as she watched him listen to his elder brother speak.
Oh right-meeting!
"-our newest product, here at home base, is doing quite well. Remember: we released it roughly around the same time we had our official opening in Ireland-" George reiterated the obvious -not for Hermione's sake, but rather for Ron's. Honestly, he was so forgetful these days, he might as well borrow Neville's old Rememberall. "-it sold out just a week after we shelved these babies!"
The witch nodded in approval, smiling to the brothers as she glanced down at her notes.
The Lucky Licking Liquorice, inspired by Felix Felicis so famously used by Harry Potter, was a chewy candy that came in multitude of flavors. The confectionary brought the consumer temporary luck, lasting only a few short minutes, before it wore off. The kick? Once the effects were completely depleted, the user would be hit with a random strike of, well, bad luck.
Some instances were even headlined in the Daily Prophet! Not that they had much to talk about these days, what with the War long behind the world. Newsworthy topics were simply gossip and the like.
One employee, after being showered with all the fortune possible, crossed path with a black cat strolling under a ladder on the thirteenth of Friday. The poor man stayed in his flat for the rest of the week, terrified he was going to die by some freak accident.
But aside from a bit of a scare and a whole lot of bad luck, the candy was designed to where it would never physically harm an individual or cost them their lives. How a user responded to a situation was out of their control.
Ever since Hermione stepped foot into the Weasley's joke industry, she made sure to have any potentially dangerous materials labeled properly, lest they were sued for a joke going just a tad too far for someone to handle.
"Right-" Hermione started, breaking her trip down memory lane. "It seems like we're out of stock of the Liquorice, so Ron, please make note that we need our candy makers to produce more." She paused for a moment, making sure he, indeed, was writing it down. "And make sure that they don't botch the potion like they did our second batch. Verity was lucky to have caught it in time before we shelved it." The witch, tersely, shook her head, causing her curls to sway back and forth, as she remembered their poor employees having to test our every box to make sure the candies weren't too potent.
The looks on their faces afterwards was too much to handle as they begged their employers to stop with the 'torment.'
Ron sniggered at her comment, remembering quite well of that ill-fated day. "Good thing she did. We had customers waiting around the corner for this candy. Could ya imagine the chaos those babies could have brought?" He shuddered at the thought.
"I'm sure we would have been paying out of our pockets treating them at Saint Mungo's. Speaking of..." The witch shuffled through some sheets of papers. "I do believe we've made a profit of near ten thousand galleons with our first set of liquorice." She double checked her invoice, making sure she had previously calculated the numbers correctly.
Hermione had been dealing with so many numbers these past few weeks, they all started blending in together. She swore every time she blinked, she saw floating numerals behind her eyelids, taunting her to add and subtract properly.
When she looked up from her paperwork, Hermione noticed the wide eyes of the two brothers.
"I know business was good, but I didn't know it was that good!" Ron smacked his forehead as his jaw slacked, dumbfounded. "Blimey..."
It must have been difficult for the Weasleys, having grown up poor and having more siblings than one could ever wish for. Hermione's parents were dentists, so while they were well off, the Malfoys were in a whole different league of 'rich'. Ron's constant shock of how much they were making never ceased to surprise Hermione in the least bit.
The redheaded clan went from passing down old books and tattered outfits from their eldest child to the youngest. They shared rooms and had too little space in the house to be comfortable. But now, though the Weasleys still maintained the same humble lifestyle, Molly and Arthur were relieved to know their children could support them.
Arthur even considered retiring early, though his love for Muggle contraptions outweighed the ideas of staying at home all day.
"Yes, well-" Hermione stopped herself midway. Everyone knew Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes wasn't the same after they lost Fred. Their sales plummeted, and though Ron tried his best to fill his older brother's shoes, he simply couldn't. Whether it was his lack of pizazz or whether it was that twin vibe Fred and George had, it was just wasn't there.
Customers grew bored at their slow turnaround in new inventions. For weeks, it was the same merchandise, and even George lost inspiration at one point. He'd never told Hermione, but she could tell, when she first joined the team, that he was just days away from shutting down the joke store for good.
But, there was something fresh, something different from Hermione's perspectives. She never took all the credit, because she always said the same thing whenever anyone mentioned the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes second coming in success- "Three heads is better than two." It was the more humbling route, of course.
"Speaking of body parts," George piped up with a broad smirk written clearly across his pale complexion, "I have a new design in mind."
"Well, if that's not a weird transition, I'unno what is..." The younger Weasley stared at his brother, his brows furrowed, unsure how to react to the comment.
"Moment-" Hermione quickly interjected the two brothers, flipping through the rest of her notes, making sure all topics were covered for their meeting today. Upon confirmation, she neatly stacked up her parchments and smiled at George, giving him her undivided attention. "Alright, today's agenda is completed. You may proceed."
Sometimes it seemed like she was the president of the company instead of him.
Without skipping a beat, George pulled out a tightly bound scroll, levitating it into the air before unrolling it. On the paper showed a crudely drawn diagram of whatever it was George was trying to portray.
Hermione attempted to stifle a giggle, quickly turning it into a yawn, feigning exhaustion from their long meeting. "Sorry," she muttered, pretending to wipe away a stray tear.
The sketch reminded her of Draco's designs. Where the former aristocrat's goggles reminded her of a lingerie design, George's art (if anyone would dare call it that) was simply a box with horizontal lines. There must have been some sort of correlation between inventors and not being able to draw a single straight line. Surely, he had been in a hurry to do this, right? His unborn child would probably make better doodles!
"What is it?" Ron's brows were so tightly knit together it became a unibrow. For a second, he angled his head, and Hermione mimicked, thinking perhaps seeing it from a different perspective would help open her eyes on the mysteries of George's mind. Good thing she wasn't the only one unable to understand the scribble.
Not noticing the other two's confusion, George puffed his chest outward, proud of his design. "It's called the Bitey Burglar Backpack -name pending."
"Ooh..." The other two muttered, realizing that the box was just an attempt at a three dimensional design of a...backpack.
"This is designed where, if anyone, save for the owner, sticks his-"
"-or her-"
"-hand inside any of these pouches-" he gestured towards horizontal lines which formed smaller rectangles within a larger rectangle, "-teeth will grow from the fabric and bite down on the would-be thief." George stopped to look at the other two with his brows raised. One look of Hermione's expression quickly reminded him of the 'precautionary' measures they have to take as an enterprise to prevent loss of income. "Of course-" he added quickly, stopping her from making any comment as she inhaled, almost to make a comment. "Of course, I'll have it set up where while there is immense pain on the robber, there isn't any lasting damages."
After she joined the team, George and Ron learned to always have their grounds covered when they presented their ideas. Otherwise, Hermione would find some means to tear it apart.
But try as they might, the clever witch always managed to find something to nitpick at.
"Well-" she began, immediately noticing the older Weasley's chest deflate in defeat. It was almost like clockwork. They'd present something and explain; she would, then, counter their proposal, and they'd proceed to sulk, moan, and groan. Hermione felt sorry for them in the beginning, but soon she realized it was all just an act to take advantage of her more nurturing side. So, she no longer felt any sympathy for the boy.
Either do the work entirely or shut up and take the advice. It's why she liked to call herself the best in the business.
"-Not everyone uses a backpack. In fact, very few magical folks use it." She gave George a pity smile as his shoulders slumped down and he fell back into his seat. "That being said, I think the idea is interesting. If you could design different options, it would play really well into our business.
"Right now, our target audience are mainly students. If, say, we have it so it's an anti-theft purse or pouch, perhaps we could bring in older, working clients or even those who just travel a lot."
George nodded thoughtfully, contemplating the idea.
Hermione could literally see the gears spinning in his head as he tried to formulate new ideas. "You'll also have to consider what'll happen if this product should fall into the hands of muggles."
"Right-"
"-and make sure you do add an automatic safety detection should a child, baby or otherwise, stick their hands into it. So they don't hurt themselves."
"Yes-"
"-and maybe something of a 'switch' to turn on and off the 'teeth' function."
"But-"
"-But let's put this on the backburner for the time being. We have so many thing going on at this moment, adding another product onto plate might just tip this tower of tasks over."
George heaved a heavy sigh as his idea was, once again, thwarted by the almighty Hermione Jean Granger.
"Sorry, George. Were you saying something?" She turned her attention towards him for a moment, having been completely unaware of his attempts to interject in her one-woman conversation.
"No-"
"-Okay, then! Onto the next topic." Hermione lifted her wand, which had been resting next to a pile of paperwork she had yet to go over, and magicked the scroll to roll up tightly and spelled it towards the bookshelf next to the fireplace, where many more of presumably George's ideas were neatly stacked.
Ron gave an apologetic pat on the back as the man watched another one of his creations get tucked away to collect dust.
It was always business with her - that and getting relevant work done as quickly as possible. There just wasn't enough time in the day to get all the things that needed to be done, well, done. She was busier than ever now since she's been spending the majority of her time helping out Draco on the side. In fact, so much of her time was spent helping out the poor bloke that it would completely slip her mind to remember to work on her existing business.
These past few weeks had her running on three to four hours of sleep.
Where was a time turner when she needed one?
xxx
"Anything else in need of discussion?" Hermione stretched her tired arms high above her head as she clenched her jaw, holding back a yawn.
The two brothers, looking more exhausted than their witch counterpart, exchanged glances at each other before shaking their heads simultaneously.
Thank goodness! They were done for the day.
Being in a meeting with Hermione was, typically, intense, fast, and to the point. Since working with her former classmates, she's learning to loosen her grip on things just a bit (like, one percent, really) and they'd learned to try and keep up with her pace.
Fatigue sat heavily on Hermione's shoulders as she rolled them back and forth, trying to get the aching knot out. The three of them sat in her office for a better part of the morning. Whoever knew the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes would be this busy?
Just as she was about ready to call the meeting, there was a gentle knock at the door. Quickly, the bushy haired witch straightened herself from her relax state. "Come in!" she exclaimed in her most pleasant business tone, though it was still sharp enough to cut through the toughest of steel.
The wooden door opened slowly and the hinges groaned against the weight. As the small crack of light entered, it let in a chorus of laughter and music, filling up the, otherwise, serious room.
"Hellooo..." came a voice in a singsong-like manner, and a familiar head popped through the gap.
Once more, Hermione found herself relaxing at the sight of her former schoolmate. "Angelina!" She smiled and stood from her chair, elated to see a well known, yet, different face. Quite honestly, the brunette was getting tired of looking at the same two redheads for hours on end. "Come in. Come in. We were just finishing up."
The chocolate-skinned witch opened the door further, her smile bright enough to lighten the mood. "I was just coming around to pick up my husband for lunch."
Hermione learned, some time ago, that it was code to save George from her, figuratively speaking, vice-like hold on him.
"I'm famished!" the older Weasley cried as he leapt out of his seat and carefully wrapped his arms around his wife's delicate shoulders, kissing her on the cheek.
The younger witch squealed as she noticed the obvious bump on Angelina's belly and made her way over towards the couple and nearly shoved George out of the way for a better look. "Look at you! Six months?"
Angelina laughed at her husband's attempt to complain. "Just about!"
"Sex?"
George groaned almost immediately. "Not as much as before. She's always complaining about how her back hurts and being so exhausted all the time."
"Not you!" the woman glowered at the man before going back to their idle chatter.
When both the witches were caught up with their lives (Hermione kept hers pretty brief, leaving out plenty of details about Draco. Another time, perhaps?), Angelina turned her attention back towards her husband. "Well? Are we getting lunch, or am I going to be eating alone again?"
The man threw his hands up in the air, exasperated, as if he hadn't been standing there for the past ten minutes, pointing at his stomach and gesturing the immense pain he was in due to starving. "Yesss!" He then wrapped his lanky arm around her waist and gently led her out of the office. "Foood..."
Hermione smiled to herself, watching the notorious prankster handle his wife with such gentleness. Who knew George was capable of such delicateness?
When the door closed behind the soon-to-be-parents, an all too familiar silence greeted the two former lovers, and suddenly, Hermione felt oddly exposed and awkward. While she and Ron remained friends, they never really saw each other outside of work or special occasions. There wasn't really any reason to.
Quite honestly, if it wasn't for George's sole decision in hiring Hermione, they wouldn't have been where they were today. Of course, during that time, Ron tried to pull all the stops to hiring her, but the elder brother pulled the 'this is my store, and I get final say' card on Ron, who then (according to Harry) pouted for months until he realized how effective her innovation was.
"Erm..." Her demeanor changed completely, unsure how to approach this weird situation. There wasn't any work related topics to talk about. They'd already covered it all today.
"Before you say anythin'..." Ron quickly responded, picking up on her uneasiness. He scratched the back of his head, his shoulders tense and permanently in the shrugged position, and his head crooked to the side as if he was trying to come up with something to say.
If anyone could personify awkward, Ron would be the leading contender.
She looked at him, brows raised and lips pursed. "Hm?"
They both stared at each other, an uncomfortable air resting on them heavily.
His freckled face twisted, almost constipated in a way, but Hermione knew better than to assume he needed to use the loo. Rather, it was more along the lines of Ron having something to say, yet at the same time, not knowing how to put it into words or, and the second option usually rang truer, he was too prideful. She knew the look all too well; she saw it every time they finished fighting due to his childishness and wildly insecure thoughts.
"Ron-" she sighed out his name.
"-No, I have to, 'Mione," the redhead inhaled, determined as he shut his eyes. "When we were together, you always told me that I didn't have to - but I do. I know that. We're not children, anymore. I have to own up to my mistakes." He sniffed while using the back of his right hand to rub his nose.
The corners of her lips twitched at his response. Owning up to his mistakes? That was a new one, though, she had to admit - a new leaf might not be too bad for Ron Weasley.
Though, how many times in the past had he apologized only to act the same way the very next day? As if his amendment the night before meant he was guilt free to do whatever he pleased to the following day. Her brain argued with her heart. Reason versus emotion. Both sides saying different things.
He's an adult! If he hasn't changed his ways already, he'll never be able to do it now. Just wasting my time, listening on more of his silly antics.
He just wanted attention. This was probably one of the reasons why things never worked out between him. If she didn't give him her utmost attention, then there was a fight.
But. It's not like it's too late to change. Right? Just look at him! He's so pitiful, like a stray puppy caught out in the middle of a storm.
Ugh, Hermione always had a soft spot for puppies...
Regardless, she said what he predicted earlier, "You don't have to..."
"Hermione," his eyes bore into hers as he enunciated her name. "I'm sorry for how things have been." Ron chewed at the bottom of his lip, and his face contorted once more, as if it was the hardest thing in the world for him to say.
"I know things haven't been a walk in the park for you, and I haven't made things any easier," Ron took a deep breath and, like there was some sort of breakthrough for him, everything just came undone.
"I hated how things ended between us. We were s'posed to be best friends, through thick and thin! After everything we went through, fleeing from the Ministry to losin' friends and family. The last thing we need to lose is each other. Somethin'... Somethin' petty as this... as Malfoy or our break up - it's not worth losin' what we have." Ron scratched the back of his head once more; his expression was apprehensive. He shifted his weight from one leg to another as he tried to come up with something to say next. "The people we can trust are few and far in between. We...should hold onto what we have..."
The wizard looked at his friend, and when she stayed silent, he continued on. "What I'm sayin' is, I want to be best friends again. Like old times. I miss seeing you, not just at work or with the family. I miss grabbing butterbeer and late nights talkin' about nothin'. Those were the best. So... whaddya say, 'Mione? Like the old times?"
Hermione exhaled through her nostrils as she stepped towards the pathetic looking wizard and reached out her arms, embracing her friend like they did when they were still children. Though his words were less than eloquent, she understood his intention. "It won't be easy, but we'll make it work."
"Yeah?"
"Of course! What are best friends for?" She laughed quietly, looking up at the lanky man. "Just how long have you been preparing that speech?"
A wave of relief hit him, his rigid form suddenly went soft. His nervousness gone and the Ron she was so used to was back. "Oh, blimey, 'Mione. You've no idea. I rehearsed it over and over to Padma and-"
"Padma?" Hermione squinted at him, dropped her arms to her sides, and took a step back. It was the first time in years she'd heard the name of any woman, save from herself and family members, coming out of Ron's mouth.
"Oh-" the colors in his face drained out as he realized his mistake. "Oh, erm, right. We started seeing each other just a few weeks ago-" The man exhaled a nervous laugh.
She guffawed, throwing her head back and covered her eyes with her hand. The sympathetic side of her was erased, left with frustration, and well oddly, relief. Of course, the only way to make the stubborn Ronald Weasley apologize would be if he found 'happiness' before she did.
He watched the daunting witch grow quiet as the aura around her changed drastically. Was she pissed? Sad? He couldn't read her; he was never able to do it very well. "S-seriously, 'Mione! This isn't 'cause of...not because of her -I've been- this has been going through my head for a long, long time now! S-s-she was just the one who gave me the courage I needed to tell you all this."
"Right, so, without the help of your new girlfriend, you were just going to let this rift between us grow? You needed some...some stranger help mend our relationship? Is this what I mean to you?"
"She's not a stranger! We went to school with her, 'Mione!" He huffed in defiance, hoping she would come to her senses.
The witch shot him a scathing glare, daring him to interrupt her again.
"That's not it at all," Ron muttered under his breath as he fidgeted with his fingers, his left foot scraping against the carpeted floor like a child being scolded.
"Then please, explain it." She waved her wand, turning one of the chairs around so she could sit comfortably. "My schedule is opened for the rest of the day. Do tell me how you fabricated this whole ordeal."
Hermione was met with silence as the man stood there, unsure what to say.
"Let me explain it to you, then." She crossed her leg over the other and folded her arms across her chest, leaning back into the slack of the chair. "And I'll make it easy for your pea-sized brain to understand your intentions, yes?" Hermione cleared her throat. "You can't stand the thought of me being happy while you're single and alone. Whether it's me going on a first date or making new friends, you erupt in jealousy and manage to ruin everyone's lives. Mine, especially. But, now that you've found yourself a new girl, Merlin bless her soul, you decided now you can finally be the bigger man and apologize for all the shit you've put me through. Keeping up?"
"-Mione..." He tried to explain, though he was cut off as she waved her hand out to keep him from speaking.
Even if his words were of good intention, once Hermione sets her mind to something, it would take the world and all its gods to make her change her mind.
"I think I'm done with you, Ronald." She cleared her throat, standing up. "For years you've juggled around with my emotions and life. I do nothing but help you and take care of your family, and please do understand I, absolutely, love and adore your parents and siblings, but you-" Hermione took a giant step towards him, poking her index finger against his chest. "-You, I am done with."
The redhead gulped audibly.
"Now, if you'd be so kind...please, get the fuck out."
She waved her wand, and the office door swung open violently, the knob making a sizeable dent against the wall.
"-'Mione, will you please just listen-" He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence. She had no interest and shoved him, slamming the door shut.
Stupid Ron Weasley.
When she thought she was alone, she collapsed in her seat again, more tired than ever. Her face was buried in hand as her middle finger and thumb caressed both sides of her temple. A headache was brewing.
"Is this a bad time?"