Time... I've been passing time watching trains go by
All of my life...
Lying on the sand, watching seabirds fly
Wishing there would be
Someone waiting home for me...

Something's telling me it might be you
It's telling me it might be you...

Stephen Bishop "It Might Be You"


George Weasley was nothing, if not persistent. Stubborn was his middle name. (Okay, it was actually Fabian, and as cool as it was to be named after a mischievous uncle, it meant 'bean grower' and that was just a little too lame for George.)

And no matter how much the universe, and nature, were conspiring against him, George was going to let Hermione have a nice night. So there. Metaphorical tongue stuck out and everything.

Even if the vendor was closed because of the storm. "Seriously?" George said again, with another glare at the empty cart where his dessert stand usually was. "Who in England closes when it rains?"

Hermione nodded in agreement. "How do they even stay in business?" She glanced around the street at all the other people still going about their business. "I mean, it rains on average of 160 days here."

George dropped his gaze down to her and smiled. Her face was buried in her scarf and only her nose and eyes were peeking out from under her wet hair. It was getting soggier by the second. This had to be a terrible country to live in if you had curly hair. She'd be complaining about frizz whenever she dried. "How do you know a fact like that? I mean, where do you even here that kind of thing?"

Hermione shrugged and blushed a little as they turned away from the stupid stand that was going to go out of business. "I don't really know. I just remember things I read or hear."

"Whereas I can't ever remember anything. Read, hear, see, doesn't matter." George directed her down a random alley. He wasn't sure where he was going but he felt like walking. They were already wet so what did it matter? It was a pretty evening, perfect temp, and there wasn't a breeze or anything so they wouldn't get chilly. Eating was also a clear bust and George didn't feel like going back to the flat just yet.

"Are we going somewhere particular? And you don't strike me as someone who has memory problems."

"Nope, we are wandering the big city. Brace yourself. I always have trouble remembering things. Fred's always ragging on me for forgetting potion steps. I have to have the recipes and immediately write down anything I'm doing when I'm inventing." He grinned as they turned a corner and started down a far less crowded street. "It's improved a lot though since Rover joined the party."

"Really? That's fascinating. I wonder why that would be…"

"Who knows. Maybe I just had too many thoughts for one person to handle. He probably just organizes it though. He's a bit of a neat freak. Likes things in order and all that job. He's a closet OCD case." George brushed some wet hair out of his eyes and smiled down at Hermione. She was wearing frumpy clothing, as usual, the rain hadn't even offered him a nice view of her figure.

"You sound like you have Multiple personality Disorder." Hermione observed as a man in a brown suit coat with elbow patches and a blue bowtie passed them. A red head woman and brown haired man followed a moment later, muttering something about a party.

"Well, I sort of do. I mean, he's more similar to me than not, but he's a distinct personality."

"What's it like when you're transformed? I mean, if it's not to personal a question." Hermione blushed and looked away before George got a chance to reply. Acting on impulse, George reached over and took her hand, tugging her a bit so she looked back at him. He didn't drop her hand.

"Hey, you can ask me anything. Not just because of the book/report thing either. You're a friend Hermione, you're part of my pack." He grinned and gave her hand a squeeze before continuing down the street. "It's…odd. Nearest thing to it is being imperiused. That sense that you're not in control of your body? It's like that, but far more intense. I can sense what's going on, and think through it, but I can't control anything. Rover can hear me, but he doesn't have to listen. I think it's probably how he feels all the time. Which makes feel guilty, but it's not like I can control that."

"You're sympathetic?" It was said without judgment and made George grin a little. Hermione was probably the only person, aside from Fred, who wouldn't be judging.

"Well, yeah. It's not like this was his choice either. Far as I can tell, he was part of me before I was bitten. He just became separated and more animalistic after the attack."

"Then you're saying that the violence is within you?"

George snorted. "Duh." Hermione looked taken aback so George quickly continued. "Like I told Irene. Everyone is capable of evil. We're all hiding devils. The way I see things, the wolf is what I would be if I had my inhibitions removed. He's the animal I can be. He's also enraged. He can't get out and he's always trapped until the moon releases him. He's a slave no matter what, to me or the moon. He can't escape it. I'd probably be beastly as well."

"You'd let him out at other times?" George nodded his head and got a very weird way of fondness inside his head. The wolf was rather taken with that information apparently.

You live in my head, you see what I think. How could you have not figured that out yet? Merlin. You're as thick as I am, fluffy. George thought with a smirk. The wolf stuck his tongue out and retreated.

"Your eyes are hazel again."

"What?" Hermione nodded at his head from underneath her wet curls. "Your eyes turned hazel just then. You usually get a spacey look when they do that. Can I assume it's when you're talking with your wolf?"

"I guess." George took a moment to appreciate how much this was just not what he'd planned for the night. He'd wanted a nice, romantic date that he could start to woo Hermione with, and he'd gotten prejudice, and rain, and no food, and closed vendors and-

And they were at Hermione's flat. How had that even happened? They'd just been wandering around the city. Or, he thought they had been.

Hermione looked up at the building and a gorgeous smile spread across her lips. "Oh! You walked me home!" She went up the steps and pulled a key out of her pocket. "That was very sweet." She informed him as she stuck the key in the lock.

"Well, that's just who I am. Sweet, funny George Weasley."

"You know, this was fun." Hermione said as she pushed her door open. George grinned and nodded his head.

"Yeah, kind of like a date." Smooth. Way to go George. Rover even rolled his eyes at George.

"A date?" Hermione squeaked and stepped back, her eyes wide. "I thought you and Katie…" She flushed even brighter and dropped her eyes. It was adorable really. Him and Katie though? That was disturbing and needed to be nipped in the bud post haste.

"Nope. That ship has most assuredly sailed away."

"But you two-" Hermione stumbled over herself and just stood still, looking terribly unsure. George sighed.

"That ship hasn't just sailed, Hermione. It burst into flames, blew up, and sank spectacularly. It's done, gone, and truly over with."

Hermione looked at him in confusion.

George sighed and looked back. "There is, in fact no ship anymore."

"Oh." She mouthed. She fiddled with the door knob and bit her lower lip. Rover was practically rolling over from the awkwardness and George wanted to join him.

"Well, now that I made this sufficiently uncomfortable, I'm going to go back to my flat. See you tomorrow?" Hermione nodded her head on seeming instinct and smiled. "Yes, I imagine you will."

George grinned and bowed before spinning on his heel and disapparating.

"Well," He declared to the very empty flat, "that was a start."

-o-o-o-

"Do you ever wish you were a muggle?" Fred asked out of the blue. George looked down from the top shelf of the bookshelf he'd been organizing and frowned at his twin.

"I'm sorry? Muggle? Where did that come from?"

Fred shrugged and passed him a book on breeding magical creatures. "Muggles. Far as I can tell they have it a lot easier. No war, no werewolves, no petty hate."

"Umm," George mused as he put the book up, "I'm pretty sure they have their own problems. And I wouldn't be able to do magic… No, I can't say I've ever wished to be a muggle."

Fred nodded his head and dropped and handed him another book. "Have you?" George wasn't dumb, especially not with Fred. He knew his twin better than anyone else on the planet.

"Yes." He picked up a book and clutched it tightly between long, burnt fingers (his latest experiment had backfired spectacularly.) "I-whenever you get discriminated against. And really hard right after you were attacked." He started to pass the book over before pulling it back to his chest. "Why didn't you tell me about the Cauldron?"

"What? About the lady?"

"About some git telling you to get out." Fred threw the book back into the box and glared at George.

"Actually, I left of my own violation after realizing I'd ordered Hermione a meal she couldn't really enjoy."

Fred parked up remarkably. "You took Hermione out?" His grin turned into a pout. "Why wasn't I told? Details, please?"

George grinned and made his way down the ladder. "Why are we doing this by hand?" Fred looked at all the books they'd put on the shelf and frowned before scratching his head.

"Because we're stupid prats?"

George flicked his wand at the remaining books. "It went terribly as far as doing things went, but it was fun."

Fred opened his mouth, shut it, and then opened it again before tilting his head. "Um, that made exactly no sense."

"Well, we went to the Broomsticks first, and Dosenger was there, so I was like, nope! Then we tried the Cauldron where I ordered her something she couldn't eat, and then we had the brush with Irene."

"Who?"

"A woman who was horrified I was allowed to eat in a restaurant. I politely pointed her towards the error of her ways. We then went to the churro vendor-you know, the one Angie showed you?" Fred nodded and grinned. He loved the fried doughnuts. "Well, they were closed because it was raining. We went for a soaked walk and I dropped her off at her flat. I ended the night with an embarrassing hint that it might have been a date and she panicked. So, I had fun, but it was an effort to do so."

Fred whistled. "Sounds a bit like my first date with Angie. Thank Merlin we're charming and oh-so good looking or we'd just be out of luck because we suck on first dates."

George laughed. "A little bit, yeah." He walked pass Fred and into the kitchen. He needed a cup of tea, it was getting cold out and the brew sounded delicious.

"At least your girl isn't dating someone else."

"Hey," George said over his shoulder. "That wasn't your fault. She hadn't told you anything about it." He pulled the chipped teapot out of the cabinet and made a mental note to replace it. "She asked me about Katie as well."

Fred's grin disappeared and a dark scowl replaced it. "I assume you were nice about her even though there aren't words enough to describe her evilness."

"I broke up with her, Freddie." George reminded his twin.

"After she broke your heart. I'm allowed to make plans to get her alone in a dark alleyway. It's my right as your twin and best friend."

It was that.

George opened his mouth to make a reply (he hadn't quite decided what) but was interrupted.

"I know how you can continue the meetings!" Hermione exclaimed as she rushed into the flat in a flurry of hair, robes, and papers. She placed a stack of parchments on the table in front of the Fred and beamed in utter glee. George set the teacups down and raised his eyebrow before leaning back against the counter casually.

"Good evening to you too, Hermione." He greeted.

"What?" Fred mumbled, still looking a bit unsure.

"You can declare yourself a therapy group for specific PTSD victims!"


A/N: Thank you for all the support last chapter. :D I know a lot of you don't know a lot about me, so here's a bit of info for you all to digest on: I am whitish (My mom's Native American and my Dad's half Irish a, quarter German, and a quarter Scottish.) and I have several siblings. One is autistic, (my oldest sister) and my younger brother is gay. I know about prejudices. Believe me. I'm basing a lot of this story and the reactions in it on actual protesting and some of the things I've seen in my own life. My brother is actually a pastor now, and I'm so proud of him because if you want to see some ugly prejudices join the church and be gay. That's one place Christians (and I am a Christian) have really failed in the love aspect of following Christ.

It really makes me happy that you're all agreeing with George's approach, because it's the one my family has always tried to take. Responding to those sort of things in an angry way rarely does anything. Ignorance can't be fought with anger, it just leads to more problems. It needs to be fought with education.