Title: Clarity
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 531
A/N(optional): The quote, "It's amazing the clarity that comes with psychotic jealousy." Is from the film _My Best Friend's Wedding_. Fred didn't die in DH.

Hermione angrily sliced into the plant she was prepping for one of Wheezes' new potions.

"If you don't calm down, you'll lose a finger," George joked from the other side of the table.

"What are you on about?" Hermione huffed. "I am calm." She immediately pressed down too hard with the knife in her hand causing it to slip and knock the Honeysuckle stem she was working on off the table.

George shook his head and watched as she got down on all fours to retrieve the ingredient. "He wouldn't flirt with Greengrass if you hadn't completely shut him down," he said gently.

Hermione scrambled to her feet clutching the wayward plant in her hand and glared at him. "Fred Weasley is completely free to flirt with, date, and shag any girl he wants. He and I agreed that it was better for our friendship if we didn't get involved in a serious, exclusive relationship, while I'm working here."

"That's not the story I was told," George replied.

"Maybe your war injury is starting to affect your hearing," Hermione snapped. "I'd go to St. Mungos and get that checked out."

"I heard," George continued, as if she hadn't spoken, "that Fred wants to date only you, but when he brought it up, you freaked out and threatened to quit."

Hermione looked shaken. "Do you remember how awful Ron and I were together? He was my best friend and now we can barely be in the same room together! I couldn't stand if that happened with Fred, too."

"It won't."

She looked at him incredulously. "How can you say that?"

"Fred isn't Ron. He knows what he wants and he wants you."

She shrugged. "He says that now, but how will he feel in three weeks, three months, three years?"

"How will you feel when Daphne gets her claws into him?"

"Like I could rip her head off her tiny little neck and kick it around Diagon Alley like a Muggle football."

George chuckled.

"And if she still didn't get the picture, a nice burn hex between her thighs might teach her to keep her hands and other body parts to herself," Hermione growled.

"You know, Granger, I never suspected you'd look so attractive that shade of green."

"Huh?"

"I just find it amazing the clarity that comes with psychotic jealousy."

"I'm not jealous!"

"Of course, not. It's perfectly normal to want to rip the heads off of girls who date your friends."

Hermione sat down hard on the stool behind her. "Godric H. Gryffindor," she murmured. "I'm jealous."

George nodded.

"I don't want Fred to date anyone, else. I want him all to myself!"

"Give the girl a NEWT," George teased.

"What do I do?" she asked, looking a bit dazed.

"Go talk to him."

Hermione nodded, stood, and straightened her robes. "Should I… should I mention the head ripping?"

George shook his head. "You might caution Greengrass, though."

"I don't know. This is the sort of lesson that Daphne might remember better learning from painful first hand experience rather than from just a friendly warning," Hermione smirked before winking at George and heading into the shop to talk to Fred.

The End