Chapter Twenty-One
Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading! So very appreciated! As always, very much not mine.
Hermione gulped and knocked cautiously on the wood paneled, deep burgundy front door of the Burrow. Nervousness was hardly her typical emotion when going to visit her dear friends, but on that particular day, she experienced an odd sense of trepidation; it was going to be the first time that she saw her beloved surrogate family since she and George had begun their budding relationship. As much as she hoped that the Weasleys would be thrilled at the revelation that she was involved with one of the middle sons, Hermione still worried that their reactions would be less than favourable. She and George had decided that they wouldn't upstage young Victoire's birthday party– the reason everyone was gathering on the bright Saturday morning – by unveiling their relationship, but Hermione wondered if everyone would pick up on new oddities within their interaction nevertheless. As she waited for someone to come to the door, Hermione shifted her weight between her feet and deeply exhaled, willing herself to not appear tense or out of sorts.
"Oh, Hermione…lovely to see you, dear," Mrs. Weasley answered the door and pulled Hermione into an eager hug.
"Hmph, hello Molly," Hermione responded, her voice muffled by Mrs. Weasley's gingham apron. "It's nice to see you too,"
"Well…come in dear…Harry and Ginny and Ron are all in the living room," Mrs Weasley bustled, shutting the door behind Hermione and ushering her into the warmth of the Burrow's foyer.
"Are the others not here yet?" Hermione asked. "I mean, I would have thought Bill and Fleur would already be here," She quickly clarified.
"Oh of course, sweetie. Bill and Fleur are in the dining room with Percy and Audrey. I just thought you would be more interested in the others."
"Ah, definitely…I was just asking out of curiosity," Hermione responded, refraining from continuing her questioning to discover if George had arrived.
The Christmas decorations that had recently adorned the Burrow had been cleared out, but the home still looked as cozy and welcoming as ever. Rows upon rows of pictures in mismatched frames lined the stairs leading up to the main part of the house. All the pictures depicted the Weasley children and grandchildren at different ages, waving and smiling. Hermione chuckled fondly at all of the familiar pictures as she always did; the depictions of her favourite red-heads always provided cheer. Included in the collection of the many images of Weasleys were quite a few of her and Harry, both at Hogwarts and from the Burrow. Hermione's smile grew wider at the sight of those pictures; knowing that the Weasley's deemed the two of them as close enough to family to deserve spots amongst the family portraits was always encouraging.
"Well…here we are, dear," Mrs. Weasley gushed, leading Hermione into the living room.
"Thanks, Molly," Hermione grinned. While Mrs. Weasley's guidance was hardly necessary – Hermione already had an intimate knowledge of the outlay of the house – the hospitable nature of the Weasley matriarch was always welcomed.
"Ginny! Ron! Harry! Hermione is here to see you!" Mrs. Weasley shouted into the living room, interrupting the occupants from their conversation.
"Hey guys," Hermione added. "Oh, hey Lavender," She added in her friendliest voice to the girl seated next to Ron. Although she had never formed a solid friendship with her former classmate, Hermione didn't want Lavender to be discouraged over Mrs. Weasley's failure to mention her. The younger witches and wizards bade goodbye to Mrs. Weasley as she left the room. Hermione ambled across the room, joining Harry and Ginny on the smaller of the Weasley couches.
"Good to see you, Mione," Ginny laughed good-naturedly, swinging her feet onto Hermione's lap while lounging back against Harry.
"You too, Gin" – Hermione smiled in return – "How's it going?"
"I'm good…and you? What's new?"
"Erm…ah, nothing," Hermione stammered. "Wh-wh…How's the team doing?"
"Pretty good…won the last one. Still feeling we have a chance this season," Ginny smiled broadly while playing with a strand of her long, red hair.
"I think you can still place," Harry replied encouragingly, joining into the girls' conversation. "You have a strong team…I like your chances," He added, rubbing his fiancée's shoulder through her pale pink sweater.
"You have a better shot than the Cannons," Ron contributed glumly from across the room, clearly resigned to the fact that his beloved Chudley Cannons were going to finish at the bottom of the league yet again.
"Oi, what about the Cannons? Discussing the embarrassment they suffered last match are we?"
A new voice loudly echoed through the room. Hermione glanced up from where she was sitting and saw that George, Fred, and Angelina were entering the room. Both Fred and Angelina were carrying one of their twins. The infants were so bundled up, however, that Hermione couldn't tell which twin was being carried by whom.
"Seriously mate, you didn't come here to gloat about that, did you?" Ron muttered before even greeting his older brother. Even though he narrowed his eyes and shook his head regretfully, Hermione could tell that Ron was still in fine spirits: his downcast expression couldn't mask his grin.
"What did you expect? Obvious I wasn't going to refrain from mentioning something," George's smile was tinged with cockiness. As Fred and Angelina sank into the nearer couch shared by Ron and Lavender, George strode across the room and collapsed into the smaller of the couches, in the spot right beside Hermione. Space was tight on the couch with all four seated on it, particularly with the way Ginny was lounging, and George had to push his way in to make enough room between Hermione and the couch's arm. "Morning, Mione," George chuckled pausing his conversation with Ron and nudging Hermione in the side with his elbow.
"Umph, George, you're sitting on my leg," Hermione replied, pulling her leg out from underneath George, wondering if she should appear put off by his action. "And, lovely to see you,"
"You look smashing as always," George grinned, nodding at Hermione's hunter green, sweater. Hermione bit her lip, convinced that George was referring to the way her top hugged her chest and torso rather snugly.
"Erm, thanks," She responded shyly. George wasn't doing a particularly good job of withholding their relationship from his family; Hermione was sure that the rest must have been privy to his unnecessary flirtation.
"Eh, Ronny…you can't hold it against me that I'd say something about that win against Chudley…I can't help but be proud of my lads over a performance like that," George swiveled his head towards Ron to continue his discussion with his younger brother.
"Oh, get off it…it wasn't that impressive of a win," Ron contended ruefully.
"Ah, Ron, that match was over before it even bega-" Hermione started with a wry chuckle, stopping immediately when she realized to what she was admitting.
"No it wasn't – wait, why do you know that, Mione? You don't follow the Quidditch league, do you?" Ron asked pointedly.
"Ah…er, well, one of my girlfriends at work is a big fan…she had an extra ticket and begged me to go with her," Hermione feebly offered, hoping that her explanation sounded more convincing to the others than it did to herself. "I didn't really care about the outcome or anything," She continued, knowing that her words were at odds with her actions during the match. She pictured the way she and Holly had so ardently worn their support of Puddlemore United and the way they had yelled themselves hoarse during the short match and wondered how the Weasley family would have reacted had they witnessed her display of fandom for George's squad.
"Oh, rubbish," Ron murmured. "I tried to get tickets but couldn't. I hope you at least cheered for Chudley."
"Now, Ronny…none of that…I think I'll have to have a talk with Mione and convince her to support Puddlemore…we could always use the fans," George winked very conspicuously at Hermione. Hermione was certain he was recalling the red '6' she had painted on her face in support of him and the bright red top emblazoned with his team's crest that she had sported and that still lay folded in her closet having not had the chance to return it to Holly yet. George patted her knee tenderly and Hermione wouldn't have been surprised if he was remembering several other more intimate moments that they had shared of which his family remained blissfully unaware. The thought induced a soft blush upon her cheeks.
"Oi, enough Quidditch talk," Hermione laughed self-consciously.
"No such thing as too much Quidditch talk, Mione," George replied good-naturedly, but didn't pursue the conversation any further. "So how are the wedding plans going, Gin," George addressed his younger sister.
"Ah, you know" – Ginny chuckled – "Haven't really sorted out most of the details."
"Have you picked a date yet?" Hermione chimed in, joining the conversation. It didn't surprise her that Ginny hadn't done any preparation for the wedding yet. It would be just like the easygoing red-head to throw something together quite last minute. Hermione knew that the superfluous aspects weren't something that Ginny particularly cared about; she was more excited about joining with Harry in matrimony than about any of the decorations or minor details.
"Yes…on July Thirty-First…that's about the only thing we have settled." Harry echoed his fiancée's good-natured tone.
"Oh, that's really nice," Hermione replied, recognizing immediately the importance of the date: Harry's birthday.
"Have you convinced your fiancé into making me best man yet?" George joked from beside her, directing his comment towards Ginny.
"Er…I already asked Ron," Harry offered kindly.
"Yah mate…that's my job," Ron grinned proudly at George.
"Perhaps you could be the ring bearer," Ginny teased her beloved older brother.
"Ouch," George laughed, grabbing the fabric of his dark grey top right next to his heart to indicate how much pain his sister's comment had elicited.
"Oh no mate…you'll be one of my groomsmen, won't you? I hope you will two, Fred…" Harry quickly added.
"Sure thing, bud…I'd be honoured." George replied. While his statement was lighthearted, the twinkle in his brilliant blue eyes betrayed just how pleased and proud he was to be asked.
"That would be brilliant," Fred said at the same time.
"Ah, erm, Lavender?" Ginny asked, sitting up straighter and removing her feet from Hermione's lap. While her change in position made more room on the couch, Hermione didn't take advantage of it, instead remaining pressed closely next to George.
"Hmmm…what's that, Ginny?" Lavender asked, looking up from her sparkly coloured fingernails that she had been studying before Ginny's utterance.
"Would you like to be one of my bridesmaids?" Ginny responded with a broad smile that Hermione was able to tell was somewhat strained.
"Really?" Lavender replied, her eyes opening a bit wider as she placed her hand in her lap. "Ah, what colour are your bridesmaid dresses,"
"I, ah, haven't decided yet," Ginny faltered.
"Hmm…well maybe I could help you pick something out?" Lavender's smile grew a bit wider and her green eyes flickered with excitement.
"Yah, I suppose so…Would you be interested then?"
"Sure, that would be nice, Ginny…thanks," Lavender replied. Hermione glanced at Ron who was sitting beside Lavender, holding her hand. She thought she noticed a mixed expression of pride and relief in his face and wondered if Ron had talked to his younger sister to include his girlfriend in the wedding. It had only taken several days for Ginny to ask Angelina to be in her wedding party and Hermione speculated that including Lavender may have taken more convincing. She thought it was very kind and welcoming of her dear friend, however, to ask the girl who they hadn't exactly been close with at school to participate in such an important day.
"Oh hey, everyone…Mum said come to the dining room for lunch,"
Hermione eyed the doorway and saw Bill had struck his head into the living room. His youngest daughter, Charlotte, was cozily in his arms, sleeping up against his narrow chest. Charlotte's face was buried in her father's chest and only her fine layers of orangey-red curls were visible. Even though Bill had solidly taken to fatherhood, he had still managed to maintain his cool exterior. His red hair was still worn in a long, ponytail down his back and his style was still more suited to a rockstar than a bank manager. While he had ditched his dragon's tooth earring sometime ago and wasn't quite as fond of snug, dark, leather clothing as he once been, with his slender build and laidback attitude, he still always managed to be the coolest and most glamorous one in any room. Despite the fact that Victoire was turning four that day and Bill and Fleur had two other, younger daughters, seeing Bill with a small child in his arms was always jarring for Hermione, no matter how comfortable Bill seemed carrying one. But then, seeing Fred with a sleeping child in his lap was also odd. She supposed that was just part of growing up: having to get used to seeing her friends become adults and take on the expected roles that came with adulthood.
"Ok, fine," Ginny muttered, half getting up off the couch and half falling from it. She offered her hand to Harry and boosted him off the couch. The pair wandered after Bill into the dining room. Hermione stretched her arms above her and rolled her head from side to side before climbing off the couch, trying to shake off the cramps she had acquired from sitting.
"Mione, just wait," George whispered from her side, reaching up to gently caress her hand. Hermione surveyed the room and saw that Ron, Lavender, Fred, Angelina, and the youngest Weasley twins were slowly exiting the living room.
"What is it?" Hermione asked once they were the only ones left in the room, re-collapsing into the couch.
"I wanted some time alone," George answered confidently. He grabbed the crooks of her knees to pull her closer to him on the couch. Almost instinctively his hand went to her cheek where he stroked her sensitive skin.
"George, you do realize that your family is just one the other side of that wall, don't you?" Hermione asked softly, enjoying the feel of his touch despite her prudent reservations.
"Right now, that doesn't particularly concern me," George laughed, moving his hand from Hermione's cheek to her hair where he gently brushed aside several of her curls that had fallen in front of her face. Tossing aside her better judgment, knowing that a member of the Weasley family could enter the room at any moment, Hermione rose on her knees and wrapped her arms around George's neck. With George sitting and Hermione on her knees, she was a head taller than him and had to bend her neck forward in order to find his lips with hers. As she kissed him, he tightened his hold around her lower back while Hermione eagerly entwined her fingers through strands of his shaggy hair. Suddenly, the absurdity of the situation – such intimacy in the Weasley's living room – hit her and Hermione was overcome by laughter. In between her giggles she kissed George as ably as she could, knowing that a fair number of unintentional bites and bumps were mixed in with the kisses. "You alright there, Mione?" George asked, breaking their kiss and looking at her with an amused glitter in his eye.
"Yes, I am…sorry…this is all just rather bizarre," Hermione spoke quietly, hoping that no one from the other room was overhearing their interaction.
"It is, isn't it?" George smiled, hooking his hand behind Hermione's head to leverage her head down to reconnect their kiss. There was something jovial and buoyant about the kiss. Hermione could tell that it was informed by amusement from their situation. As their kiss rose in intensity, both she and George would have to pause occasionally to chuckle or to glance at the door to insure that no shocked bystanders were observing their moment. George separated from her momentary while his eyes darted to the doorway, a wide smile playing across his face.
"Should we get in there?" – Hermione questioned, tenderly kissing the light stubble of George's cheek – "I'm sure everyone is wondering where we are."
"We could just stay here and hope that no one is aware of our absence," George grinned cheekily, reaching up to kiss Hermione's chin.
"Hmm…I rather like that suggestion," Hermione murmured, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on George's mouth. "But as lovely as that sounds, I do think we should go wish Victoire a happy birthday. That is why we're here, after all." Reluctantly, she jumped off the couch, straightening her green, cable-knit sweater and smoothing her once-straight hair that had been rumpled by George's touch.
"Hermione, don't go," George beseeched warmly, grabbing a hold of Hermione's waist with both hands and pulling her into his lap.
"George…honestly, what's gotten into you?" A note of playful reprimand echoed through Hermione's voice, but she nevertheless tilted her head in order to softly kiss the bottom of his chin where it met his neck.
"Can't we just stay here? There's so many in there, no one will even notice that we're not there." George's hands were warm on Hermione's stomach, even though the thickness of her sweater. His voice was raspy and Hermione was tempted to pay heed to his suggestion.
"You know they probably already have," Hermione pointed out eventually, pushing against the tops of George's thighs in order to assist herself out of his lap.
"Well, fine," George begrudgingly admitted, clambering off the couch to stand behind Hermione. "Let's get in there then," He laughed, placing his hands on Hermione's hips and leaning over her shoulder to kiss her cheek. "You lead the way,"
"Alight George," Hermione chuckled. She pivoted and kissed him once again on the mouth. The kiss was short-lived, but tender and filled with affection. When her lips left his mouth, she paused and cast a flirty expression at George, which he reciprocated with a wide grin. "Well, let's go," She added in a rather seductive tone, turning again and beginning her stroll through the living room. If she was asked, Hermione wouldn't have a satisfactory response for why she was acting in such a frisky manner. Rationally, she knew that they were in a precarious spot of being discovered; all of the Weasleys were in the adjacent room and most certainly would be able to hear them were they to try. Glimpsing over her shoulder at George, who was a mere step behind her, it was inarguable that he looked devastatingly handsome in his perfectly cut, dark grey button down shirt. The stylish top emphasized his strong torso and his well-built arms while his dark-wash jeans hung flatteringly on his narrow hips. His shaggy hair was worn in a casual and nonchalant way and looked as maddeningly alluring as ever. His grin was laidback and appealing. Hermione sighed and forced herself to look forward as she walked across the living room; turning around, she knew, would only lead to more distractions that would certainly delay the couple in joining the rest of the birthday party.
"Ok, get in there," George whispered into her ear as Hermione neared the door, teasingly patting the backside of her jeans with his palm.
"Oh, George," Hermione tried to glare disapprovingly, but she knew her smile revealed her real feelings and her enjoyment from their interactions. "After you," She joked, pulling him forward by his elbow.
"Oh no, ladies first," George graciously offered, bowing low and completing a flourished gesture with his hand in front of him. "Besides, I much prefer the view that way," He straightened his back and spoke at a hushed volume with a sly smile.
"Oh, George…" Hermione reiterated with an agreeable shake of her head. Nevertheless, she quietly continued through the already ajar door, entering the dining room with George trailing after her.
The atmosphere in the dining room was blustery and noisy and no one looked up when Hermione and George joined the crowd. Hermione stealthily crept around the table, slinking into her normal spot next to Ginny while George slid into his typical place across the table beside Fred. Once seated, Hermione glanced up, briefly locking eyes with George who was sitting directly across from her. She fought a giggle as George flashed an infuriatingly attractive grin in her direction. Hermione blushed and turned to try to appear that she had been a part of Ginny and Lavender's conversation the entire time.
"I really think you should go with a bias cut," Lavender was announcing to Ginny. "It's very flattering on everyone. Strapless is probably the best style…or maybe a small cap sleeve if you want to go particularly modest. I know lots of brides don't want to get shown up. And any sort of blues or purples would look good on all your bridesmaids. Ya, I definitely recommend staying with the cool colours."
"Ok," Ginny nodded noncommittally. "We'll have to check out some shops I suppose."
"I'll come with you," Hermione offered, hoping that the other two wouldn't notice that it was her first contribution to the discussion.
"Of course you will," Ginny turned to look at Hermione and smiled brightly. Hermione felt awash of relief sweep through her; Ginny didn't seem curious about her inexplicable absence. "What sort of styles do you think we should look at?"
"Ah…I guess Lavender's right, purples a nice colour," Hermione faltered. She, Ginny, and Lavender easily fell into a conversation on specific wedding details: decorations, cake, centerpieces, guest-lists, bridesmaid accessories were all things of which Lavender educated the others of their upmost importance. While Hermione thought such things didn't particularly matter, she listened intently nevertheless. Occasionally, she'd allow herself to sneak a look across the table at George. Often, he would be glancing back at her. Their eyes would connect and both would smile softly in acknowledgement of the pleasant secret that they shared.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading. All comments are very, very appreciated, so if you'd like to do me a huge favour take a moment to leave a review, suggestion, or encouragement!