I can't stop, can't fight, can't resist it

When the wrong one loves you right

(Oh-oh-oh-oh-yeah)

Can't run - can't hide - can't say no

When the wrong ones loves you right

(Oh-oh-oh oh)

When the wrong ones loves you right

When the Wrong One Loves You Right ~ Celine Dion

Being on-call at the hospital was dreadfully boring. It meant having no actual appointments and being there for drop-ins. So unless Narcissa Malfoy had another emergency, and Hermione sincerely hoped she didn't, her day would mostly be filled by wandering the drab halls of St. Mungos. But it could be worse; at least, she hadn't been sacked for what Toadface called her unscheduled vacation.

Her footsteps echoed as she wandered down deserted hallways. As she passed closed doors, she heard murmurs of conversations, but little more. Susan had appointments scheduled all day, leaving Hermione alone with her boredom. She almost wished George would blow his fingers off again so she'd have something to do.

As her body rambled aimlessly, her mind did, too. She thought of Narcissa, her pallid skin and tired eyes. How many more times could she save her? She shuddered at the thought.

Not wanting to dwell on an illness she couldn't beat, Hermione let her thoughts stray to Harry and Draco. She smirked. If she could go back in time and tell their younger selves what she'd seen them doing, they'd die of shock. If anything proved change was inevitable, it was Harry and Draco.

Thinking about Harry's unexpected romance caused Hermione's thoughts to turn to her own. She smiled at the thought of George. She smiled even harder when she saw him strolling towards her with a goofy grin.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "Are all your fingers attached? You know, you really don't have to do that anymore. You've got my attention."

"All fingers are in their rightful place," he announced cheerfully, pecking her on the cheek.

"Then how come your hand's behind your back?"

Grinning like a little boy, he held out his hand to reveal a beautiful bouquet of roses, enchanted to flash different colors. She'd never seen flowers do that before and suspected the spell was a George Weasley original.

"They're beautiful," she told him, accepting the flowers and offering him a quick kiss. "Thank you."

"I'm glad you like them. I really just came by to drop them off. If you're busy, I can go."

She snorted. "Do I look busy to you? I've been walking through these corridors looking at blank walls for my entire shift. Soon I'll be trying to talk to Luna's Nargles. Walk with me, please." She took his hand. "Unless you have to get back to the shop."

"Verity has everything under control," he told her, falling in step beside her.

"Has she said anything?" Hermione asked. "About us? She was there the night we were together and the next day when we were fighting. She must be curious."

George shrugged. "If she's curious, she hasn't asked me about it. Honestly, I doubt she cares. She's my employee, not my friend. Why? Are you embarrassed?"

"Yes." She giggled. "Verity saw me just before I practically raped you and overheard me trying to apologize for running away when I was through. That qualifies as embarrassing, George."

"You can't rape the willing," he teased. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Verity has plenty of questionable sexual exploits of her own. She has no room to judge."

"I still feel weird around her."

"Well, you shouldn't. And while we're on the topic of your insecurities, I talked to Mum about dinner."

"I'm not insecure," she argued, bumping up against him. "I just don't want your employee to think I'm a slut."

"No one thinks you're a slut, Hermione. That's just ridiculous."

She sighed. "Just tell me about the dinner plans."

"Wednesday night. Mum is thrilled you're coming. She'll make a huge feast. Percy, Ginny and Dean are coming, too. Everyone's missed you, you know."

Hermione frowned. "I thought it was just going to be your parents."

"What's the big deal?" George eyed her suspiciously. "It's just Percy, Ginny and Dean. It's not like we invited Rita Skeeter."

"The big deal is I'm nervous about this," she snapped, pulling her hand out of his. "You knew that. I don't know how your parents are going to react when we tell them about us. If they're upset, I don't want an audience." She stopped walking and glared at him.

"Stop worrying." George placed his hands on her shoulders. "No one expected you to become a nun after Ron died, except you. Mum and Dad'll be happy for us. So will the rest of the family, you'll see."

"How can they be?" she cried. "Ron was my fiancé. Now I'm dating his brother."

"There's nothing wrong with that. Does being with me feel wrong to you?"

"No," she admitted.

"And it won't feel wrong to anyone else either. Everything is going to work out fine, you'll see."

His disarming smile and unwavering confidence wore her down. As she stared into his sparkling eyes, she couldn't imagine anything going wrong in the world. She was about to tell him so when they were interrupted by a cold voice.

"So, Miss. Granger is this what has you missing shifts?" Toadface drawled.

"Yes," she replied, keeping her voice equally cold. "I spent some time with my boyfriend. Irresponsible, but true. I was also treating my patient, Narcissa Malfoy."

"Narcissa Malfoy isn't a patient here."

"We'll have to disagree on that." Hermione shrugged. "Is there something you wanted?"

"Only to remind you that you're on duty, which means you shouldn't be carrying on with a suitor in the halls."

Raising her wand, she zapped Hermione's flowers into oblivion.

"Hey," George cried. "That spell took me weeks."

"Then I'm sure you'll remember how to duplicate it. In the future, it might serve you well to remember that a hospital is no place for courting."

"We were neither carrying on nor courting," Hermione snapped. "We were talking."

"Well, you shouldn't be doing that while you're on duty either. Mr. Weasley, leave, now."

Furious, Hermione pulled George into a very long, passionate kiss. She heard Toadface grunting beside them.

"I'll see you later," she told George when they pulled apart. "And thanks for the flowers."

"Something has to be done about your boss, Hermione," he whispered. "Just like her sister."

Hermione couldn't even think of a response before he Disapparated.