21. Mascots: Where George and Hermione fight over who is more like a lion.

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Hermione sighed as she flipped closed her book, rubbing her eyes tiredly. Ron made a comment asking if she had memorized it yet, but Hermione simply waved him off. She was too tired for some good-natured bickering between them.

"I think out Prefect seems frazzled."

"I quite agree."

Both voices had come over either of her shoulders and Hermione sighed for an entirely different reason than physical fatigue.

"What do you want, Fred, George?"

"Nothing much," they answered in unison as they moved to sit on either armrest of her chair. "Just stopping by to ask if you would like to preorder?"

When Harry and Ron both looked up expectantly, Hermione shot them down with a stern look.

"No need to be so feisty," George said as he leaned lower.

"Well, she is in Gryffindor, where brave lions rest," Fred said as he puffed out his chest dramatically.

"Your hair is identical to a mane. An intimidating mane," George noted, and Fred's torso deflated in chuckles.

Both twins were almost knocked off of their precariously balanced sitting positions when Hermione stood with a huff. She turned on her heel, glaring down at both. The twins blinked in shock, used to them staring down at her. It seems they had finally put the straw to overload the broom, as she looked about ready to crash.

"Your hair seems long enough to be that of a lion's as well. Only that you must have a deformed genetic code that made it sprout red rather than a rightful light brown like mine."

Fred and George gaped at her while Harry and Ron sighed; so it was time for the confrontation that had been doomed to happen all year.

"If you go off your statement, than rightfully you're more like a lion like we originally suggested," Fred was the first to speak, as usual.

"I do not have the shamelessness, the lack of care that males like you seem so feverish to show," Hermione snapped back as she crossed her arms.

"At least we do not growl and roar at anyone who go against us," George said back slowly. Fred badly concealed a chuckle beneath a hand.

Hermione flushed in anger, and her shoulders rose in challenge. Recognizing this, again Ron and Harry groaned under their breath. Even if the twins were very able in hoodwink others with charm, Hermione wasn't just anyone.

"At least I don't prey on the unsuspecting, the weaker students who don't know better than to say no to your experiments and authority," Hermione snapped back.

George stood in a rush of long limbs, leaving Fred to silently slip into the seat Hermione had vacated.

"I'm not someone who has a false sense of superiority through the kingdom," he said back.

"I don't strut around."

"I don't stare and study everything in sight for potential danger," George retorted.

"I don't have a harem of girls."

George seemed honestly affronted as he put a hand against his chest, as if mortally wounded. "I never knew you were jealous, dear Hermione. Of course I can make room-"

"Again, pompous male attitude," Hermione sneered, although her cheeks were now not only flushed in anger.

"Well, if you were not so much like a lioness who fell for my bushy, able mane and offered protection-" George said, drifting off at the end as if he was actually offering her the option.

She didn't seem to want it as she snapped: "At least I don't lick my own-"

"Personally," Fred said sharply to interrupt anything Hermione might inappropriately say, "I think you two would both be amazing mascots, if only for your skill of lion metaphors."

"Yeah, you'd outshine even Luna's hat!" Ron joked. Harry burst into an explosion of laughter with his best mate a moment later.

Yet their amusement was cut short quickly as they saw the equally quelling looks from both George and Hermione. It seemed they had finally found something to agree about (as they both curled up lips to show teeth) in their odd row.

Posted: 12.21.2011; Word Count: 676