"The list of things I could live without

Grows longer as I move everything around

Behind all the furniture

Pointed towards her

To keep her in my sights

To keep her in my life"

- "Into the Red," James Blake

January 24th, 2004

The Flat above Weasley Wizard Wheezes

Number 93, Diagon Alley

London

Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a golden glow on the entire room. Hermione groaned slightly, opened her eyes and was met with the sleeping figure of George Weasley. In an instant, memories of the night before flooded back.

He had taken his time with her. It was abundantly clear to Hermione he intended to take control in the bedroom, and she was more than happy to let him have his way. He knew exactly what he was doing - every movement of his fingers, every lick, every bite, every kiss - it was all a deliberate effort to make her beg, and he was extremely successful. He revelled in her moans of pleasure, and she felt more seen and more taken care of than she ever had,

"Morning," he said, pulling her into his arms for a long, passionate kiss. "How did you sleep?"

"Really well," she said, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "Last night was... amazing."

He grinned. "You were fantastic," he pushed her lightly so that she was lying on her back, and he climbed on top of her, supporting himself with his arms so that his face was only several inches away from hers. "But I think we need to go again, just to make certain."

She laughed. "We can't, we have to be at Ginny and Harry's in an hour."

George groaned and flopped down on his back, beside her. "Since when does Harry make such a big deal about brunch? I know you and him and Ron do it every week, but now he's insisting that I come, and Bill come with Fleur and the-" his eyes widened. "Oh."

Hermione raised her eyebrows quizzically.

"My bet is he invited everyone because he's going to propose to Ginny at brunch."

Hermione laughed. "If you think Harry made a plan, you are deeply mistaken. He's going to do it spontaneously."

"Wanna bet?" George smirked. "If I'm right, you take a week off of the Ministry and work with me in the shop."

"And if I'm right?" Hermione asked. "Because I can't think-"

"I'll read Hogwarts, a History." George cut her off. "Honestly, should have read it when I was at school… would have helped me cause a lot more mischief. Do we have a deal?"

Hermione laughed again. "Deal."

Number 12, Grimmauld Place

Islington, London

"I can't believe you made me bring Whiz-Bangs," George said to Hermione as they walked up to the front door of Grimmauld Place, clutching a small box of the Weasley patented fireworks.

"You're just mad you didn't think of it first," Hermione teased.

"No, I'm in awe of how quickly I managed to corrupt you," George laughed. "Three weeks in and you're already causing mayhem. I don't know if I could be more proud."

"I was causing mayhem way before you, and one could argue, much better mayhem," she retorted.

"Impossible," George snorted.

"Let's let Ginny decide," Hermione said, straightening out her dress before she rang the doorbell. "I assure you that she's going to pick me."

"You're really in the mood to lose today, eh?" He smirked.

Teddy opened the door and burst into a smile at the sight of them. "Uncle George," he exclaimed as he clambered into his arms. George spun Teddy around, and Teddy began to giggle uproariously.

"You've gotten so big!" George exclaimed. "Next time I see you, you're going to be bigger than me!"

"That's not hard," Harry laughed, poking his head around from the parlour. He held up his hand, looked over his shoulder, and then mouthed "Ron's here," and then in his regular voice, "I was taller than you when I was 12."

"I'm built like a Beater," George protested. "Kept you safe enough during Quidditch."

Hermione snorted. "Safe? Harry was in the hospital wing every other match." They made their way into the dining room.

"Trust me, Hermione," Ginny said, standing up to hug her, "George did his best to keep Harry safe, Harry's just shite at staying on his broom."

"You played Quidditch?" Violet asked interestedly. Hermione cocked her head - truly, how much did Violet not know? Not bringing Violet to the Order meeting was bizarre on Ron's part, but it seemed to Hermione that Quidditch stories would have been a major part of the conversation Ron and Violet had. She didn't know Violet well - they had barely exchanged a few words in the past, and she was certain there were wide gaps in what Violet herself knew about Ron.

"Harry and I played Quidditch for Gryffindor for five years together with my late brother, Fred," George said amiably. "He's rather good when he manages to stay on his broom."

"Youngest seeker in a century," Percy added helpfully, taking a slice of toast.

"That's when you were even allowed to play," Hermione shot in their direction, sitting down next to Fleur.

Harry laughed. "Remember when we got banned from the team for beating up Malfoy?"

George winked. "Truly one of our finer moments," he said jovially as they clinked glasses of pumpkin juice. "I saw the twitchy little ferret yesterday, actually."

"He's still as insufferable as ever," Hermione muttered as George and Harry sat down at the table.

"You two were together?" Bill asked, looking curiously at George, then Hermione, and then back again, and Hermione realised she had blundered. They weren't supposed to know she and George were together, and she had just given it away. She paled slightly, but George swooped in to save her.

"Hermione's been kind enough to help me in the shop with some products," George lied easily. "So how've you been Violet? We haven't seen you much. Is Hornsby still getting traded to the Cannons?"

Violet laughed. "You know I'm not allowed to tell you, you own the Harpies."

"I own part of the Harpies, and I'm asking as an interested fan." Conversation shifted quickly to Quidditch, and then gossip, and the dining room was filled with the happy sounds of chatter and laughter, and Hermione found herself engrossed in a discussion with Percy about his passion, international magical cooperation. In the middle of a discussion about the new French Minister for Magic, George caught her eye and winked, and a warm feeling spread across her.

George was in the middle of enthralling the table with a story about a product gone awry when Ron came in from the kitchen, his face unreadable.

"How long have you been sleeping with Hermione?" Ron asked, and the table went silent. Quizzical glances flitted between Ron, Hermione, and George, yet no one spoke.

"Again, how long have you been sleeping with Hermione," he demanded, slamming down Witch Weekly onto the table.

Had the photo not been splashed across the top of the Wizarding periodical, Hermione would have framed it. It was from several days before - they were heading out of the shop for dinner, smiling and laughing. As George closed the door, he kissed her. It was a gorgeous photograph, a single moment in time where they were just thrilled to be with each other, revelling in the other's company. They looked every inch a happy couple, and because of who they were, Hermione knew this photo fetched a pretty penny.

"Three weeks," George said quietly. Hermione had never seen him like this, and was worried. She was very familiar with Ron's temper, and George had a reputation as a hothead.

"So what happened," Ron snarled. "Marriage Act came around and you decided to go for my ex? Couldn't have found anyone on your own? Were you too much of a coward to come and tell me?"

"They were figuring things out, Ron, they needed their space," Harry interjected, and Ron's eyes narrowed.

"You knew? And you didn't tell me?"

"What was there to bloody say?" George interrupted him, standing up to face his brother. "You've been broken up for five years, there's never been a hint that you two were getting back together."

"Here they go again. Six years and they're still in the same place," Fleur muttered. Hermione shot her a questioning glance, but Fleur had already grabbed Teddy, shielding him from the ensuing argument, and a rush of gratitude came over Hermione that Fleur had the presence of mind to protect Teddy from whatever was going to happen next.

"You should have asked me, she was mine first!" Ron said indignantly.

"Yours?" Harry spat out in disbelief.

"She's not property! And the only person I asked was Hermione, because she was the only person who mattered in this arrangement!"

Ron glared down at George, and suddenly Hermione got the feeling that this argument had been long brewing between the brothers and had barely anything to do with her. She had noticed that their relationship had been strained, but she had never seen them argue.

"Why? Why her? You couldn't pick anyone else?" Ron asked.

"Why does it matter, Ronald?" Violet asked in her French-tinged English. "Have you not moved on?"

And with a blow, Hermione realised that Ron had, in fact, not moved on. And it wasn't that he still was harbouring romantic feelings for her, he just couldn't bare to see her move on with someone else - especially when that person was his older brother. George looked simultaneously furious and exhausted, and Hermione longed to reach out and grab his hand, but she knew that would incense Ron even more, so she refrained. Her heart broke for Violet, who, by the looks of her face, was also coming to the same horrifying realisation.

"I've been in love with her for ten years," George said softly, looking down at the floor. "And it was now or never, and I couldn't live with not trying."

"Ten years," Ron repeated slowly. "So when she and I were dating, you were still-"

"Fred had just died," George snapped. "I didn't know, I was kind of busy with my own issues."

"Is this really what you want," Ron rounding on Hermione, finally speaking to her. "Because he seems fine now, but what about when he goes off on another bender and makes an embarrassment of himself and you?"

"I haven't been on a bender in a year and a half," George objected.

"Lies," Ron snapped. "You went on one two weeks ago and Bill had to come and rescue you."

Hermione felt as if all air had been sucked out of her lungs. How had George relapsed and she hadn't noticed? He had promised her the night he came to her doorstep, dripping wet and eyes wild, that he was doing his best and just wanted to be better so he could be with her, but if Ron was to be believed - and George wasn't contradicting him - not even a week later, George had given in to the demons that plagued him.

She couldn't remember leaving Grimmauld Place, she didn't remember climbing her stairs, and she didn't remember collapsing on her sitting room floor, but she welcomed the darkness as a reprieve from the pounding in her head and her heartbreak.

"By all means, she can get ahead of herself

I'll already be there

I'll already be there to meet her

She's no traitor

For a joint account

She gave me everything that she had left

Anything for herself

But for me she goes way in, way in

Way into the red

She saw every hand in my pocket

She saw the gold rush

She watched me lose face everyday

Rather than lose me

She was the gold rush"

Knightsbridge

George knew that Ron was going to react badly to the news that he was pursuing a relationship with Hermione. He agonised over it in his quiet moments, and it made him long for Fred. Fred would have known what to do. Fred would have fixed it. But now it was just George, George with one half of his heart already gone, and the other half crumbling before his eyes.

"Ron," Percy said, laying a hand on George's shoulder, "they're happy together. And isn't that what we want in the end? For the people we love to be happy?"

George shot Percy a grateful look as he looked around for Hermione, and with a sinking heart, realised she had left. Everything else seemed to lose its meaning - if she was gone, he surmised, it meant she believed Ron about the bender. And if she believed he had gone on a bender while they were together — his relationship was over.

George apparated to her front door, his hands shaking. He hesitantly walked up the stairs, and he could hear the kettle on, so he made his way into the kitchen, where he saw her standing next to the stove, her shoulders slumped over, her face exhausted. Without thinking, he made his way over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, and to his surprise, she pressed herself into him. He could have been content to stand there forever, silently, just holding her.

"I didn't go on a bender," he said quietly. Hermione turned to face him. "I had a panic attack, and Bill came to help me. I get panic attacks once in a while - not as much as I used to, but I still get them." He pushed the curls out of her eyes.

"Why did you have a panic attack?" She asked, her eyes filled with sadness.

"I don't know. It was about a week after we decided to make a go of it. I was at the Harpies for a meeting and as I was leaving... Ginny called Bill, who was with Ron at the time."

"I didn't have anything to do with it? Because I don't want to interfere-"

"No," he said firmly. "You bring me nothing but happiness and I don't want you to think for a second you were the cause." He pulled her back into his arms, and pressed his forehead against hers.

"You could have picked a lot of different men," he breathed, "and you're still trying with me, I don't know why, but I don't intend to fail you. I know you didn't notice me-"

"George," she said slowly, her forehead still pressed up against his, "I did notice you. In the DA, someone hit me with a stunning spell and it knocked me off my feet, and you were the first person to help me. You fussed over me for a couple of minutes, and I saw how worried you were, and I thought about it for weeks. No one, not even Harry and Ron, had every given me that kind of attention, and you made me feel... special."

George felt like he had stopped breathing.

"And," she continued, her mouth turned into a mischievous smile, "you did look proper fit when you were taking care of me."

George grabbed the back of her head and pulled her into a passionate kiss, beginning to tug at her dress when she pulled back, her face now serious.

"If you go on a bender, we're through," she cautioned him.

"I'm keeping up with therapy, I'm not drinking, I'm working out," he reassured her. "There are still bad days, but they're getting less and less. I have things I'm looking forward to and it makes me focus on getting better."

"What are you looking forward to?"

"Us," he said simply. "Marrying you, starting a family. I know it's way too soon to be talking about this, but there's a timer on this and I would be lying if I said I hadn't thought about hundreds of times. I want kids. This is real for me."

He watched her struggle with her emotions, worrying that maybe he had said too much. She bit her lip.

"This is real for me, too," she said finally. "I never thought that it would be you, and the thought of having children always terrified me me. But I've been directionless for a while, and a little bit empty, and when I'm around you, things start making sense again."

For a moment, George was transported to the Great Hall. Fred was buttering a stack of toast while talking about the enchanted Ivy they had just encountered in Herbology, but George was only half listening. He was watching Hermione over the rim of his pumpkin juice as she talked animatedly to Harry and Ron.

"Brightest witch of her age and she hasn't noticed how much of a sap you are every time you're around her," Fred muttered.

"What?" George asked, Fred's words breaking him out of his daze.

"Last night, when you decided to fawn over her when she got knocked down."

George shrugged. "I was helping a friend-"

"No you weren't. Stop being a coward and talk to her. It's pathetic at this point."

"No-" George began, but before he could finish his sentence, Fred had slid next to Ron to face Hermione.

"So, Granger, how you holding up after getting stunned last night? Nasty little buggers." Fred asked, and Hermione seemed surprised that Fred was interested. George reluctantly sat next to Fred, knowing that whatever his twin was about to do was going to need damage control.

"I'm fine," Hermione said hesitantly, eyeing Fred nervously. She has spent enough time around the twins to know something might be brewing, and she was on guard.

"Wouldn't want our golden girl hurt, especially since we wanted to recruit you to help us with some products." Fred drawled.

"You know I won't help," Hermione said. "You shouldn't be selling your stuff, and then ask me for my help?"

"Fat chance of that happening," Ron grumbled. Hermione glared at him.

"But you did tell us the extendable ears were innovative and clever magic," George chimed in, so as not to arose suspicion.

"Well, yes," Hermione grew flustered. "But it doesn't mean that I can-"

"Those galleons you made are just the beginning of what you could make with us," Fred said. "Think about it."

"No, I'm a prefect," she said through gritted teeth. "I'm not going to help you make products and you need to stop testing them on first years."

"Then, Miss Prefect, go with George to Hogsmeade. I'm going with Angelina, and you saw what happened when George acts without me - we both get thrown off the Quidditch team. I need someone to control him," Fred winked at her.

"Guilty as charged," George said, raising his hands in mock surrender. Harry and Ron chuckled.

"This is just another ploy to get me to help-"

"No, no, it's a ploy to make you fall in love with George so then we can get all the help we want," Fred countered.

George rolled his eyes internally. Of course Fred's plan was to make it seem like going out with him was some kind of joke, so that Hermione could totally miss the meaning because she was too focused on what appeared to be Fred taunting her, and he was barely making an effort to chime in on Fred's antics, which made the whole situation seem even more off balance.

"I'm fairly sure George here can handle himself without me being his babysitter," Hermione said.

"And that's where you're wrong," George input. "I require constant supervision."

Hermione furrowed her brows. "I don't know what your scheme here is, but I don't like it. Harry, Ron - we're going to be late for potions." She stood up, and the boys obediently, if slightly reluctantly, followed her. Once they were out of earshot, George rounded on Fred.

"That was your plan, really?"

"Better than your plan," Fred shrugged. "Just sprinkling in the seeds into her brain."

"That's not going to work."

"Oh yes it will," Fred said, spearing a strip of bacon. "Give it a couple of years and I'll be yelling at you to get your brat pack of kids out of the shop."

"And you called me pathetic."

"Oh, I'm right," Fred said sagely. "I'm going to take the absolute piss out of you every single day though."

George rolled his eyes, but in spite of himself he saw a pair of dark, red haired children running around a brightly coloured shop, and he cursed himself internally for hoping.

January 27th, 2004

Hogsmeade

After Hermione finished work, the two apparated up to Hogsmeade. George was eager to show her the shop there, and she was desperate to get out of London for a bit. Snow blanketed the roofs and grounds, and enchanted lights, meant to look like warm, flickering candles were strung across the streets. It seemed as if someone had charmed the village to look as magical as possible, a welcome change to the dreariness of London in late January.

"We have a problem," George said as they made their way from Weasley Wizard Wheezes to The Three Broomsticks. "We made a bet, but nobody won. But I have a solution."

"Should I be nervous?" Hermione asked. "Does this involve anything that explodes?"

"Well, since dearest Ronald interfered with what could have been Ginny and Harry's engagement brunch - we'll never know - neither of us won the bet. I want you to take a week off of work and help me at the shop but-"

"Deal," Hermione said without letting him finish his sentence.

"You didn't hear my idea!" George protested.

"I need time off, I like being at the shop, I like being around you," she said succinctly.

His face lit up, and he gathered her into his arms, pushing small flecks of snow out of her hair.

"Someone might see us!" She whispered.

"We were on the cover of Witch Weekly, I'm pretty sure it's not a secret anymore. Besides, they've photographed me being a rebellious bad boy, a serious business owner, if they want to put my picture in the paper now because I'm kissing Hermione Granger and I'm happy, so be it."

She laughed as he ran his hand through her curls and kissed her, slowly, almost longingly, filled with desire and want.

"I used to dream about kissing you here," he said as he looped his arm around her waist. "Especially that one time when Fred tried to get you to go out with me-"

Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh Merlin, I thought Fred was pulling a prank on me."

"No," George said ruefully, shaking his head. "Fred had been nudging me for a year and a half to ask you out and then one day he got so annoyed he decided to try and set us up."

"I had no idea. Most of the time I thought Fred was making fun of me."

"Imagine what it was like being his twin," George said, and face momentarily contorted into sadness. With time, he has started being able to talk about Fred without crying, but it still hurt, as if an invisible hand was twisting his guts and then stabbing it with a knife. George had been told that grief was a journey, and he would spend the rest of his life navigating it. Some days on his journey he was lost at sea, and some days he was rolling along on a steam engine. But he was moving forward, as hard as it was.

Hermione noticed his expression and reached across for his spare hand and squeezed it. The simple motion grounded him and reassured him that he wasn't alone. But now they were standing facing each other, with his arm around her waist, their fingers interlaced, as if they were going to began dancing, which was George's next thought.

"Dance with me," he said.

"What?" Hermione asked, surprised. "It's the middle of the road — there's no music-"

"So?" George asked, and as if by magic, strains of music filled the road, and he pulled her closer. He didn't care who was watching, what was going around him - he just wanted to dance with her, and with a little trepidation, she followed him.

"With every passing moment

Thoughts of you run through my head

Every time that I'm near you

I realize that you're heaven sent

I think you're truly something special

Just what my dreams are really made of

Let's stay together you and me boy

There's no one like you around

Oh baby"

He mouthed the words, spinning her around in his arms. She closed her eyes and pressed her head into his chest, and his heart swelled. He hasn't been this happy in a long time, and now she was here, in public, in his arms.

"I really like What you've done to me

I can't really explain it

I'm so into you,"

Snow began to fall on them, but George couldn't bring himself to stop. He wanted to stay the whole night, the Muggle hit in the background. She looked up at him, her brown eyes sparkling, snow caught on her eyelashes and for a second everything stopped. His breath hitched, and the words tumbled out before he had a chance to think.

"This is way too soon, I know - but I love you."

Her eyes grew wide, and they stopped dancing.

For the second time in a week, George wondered if he had been too forward, if he had messed everything up.

But then she broke into a small smile and whispered against his lips. "It's absolutely too soon, but I'd be lying if I said I don't feel the same way."

And in that moment, all of George's fears and doubts were silenced. He had his partner, he had the rest of his life in his arms.

January 29th, 2004

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement

Ministry of Magic

Whitehall, London

"Teddy is insistent that you and George come tonight," Harry said, leaning over Hermione's desk. "Wouldn't get dressed until I promised to ask you."

Hermione laughed. "I think George is working late tonight, but we could probably convince him to come for twenty minutes."

Harry visibly relaxed. "He's been kind of anxious since the fight on Saturday - he doesn't know what happened but he knows Ron fought with George and-"

"You don't have to explain, Harry. But-" she took a sharp breath inwards. "Fleur said on Saturday that he and Ron had been doing this for six years- what does that mean?"

Harry shrugged. "I know there was some kind of massive fight between George and Ron when Ron walked out on us, and it took Fred and Bill to pull him back, but I don't know anything else. George has always been the hothead of the family.״

Hermione thought to that very morning, where she had woken to his tender, half-asleep kisses. He had tugged at her to stay in bed, to call off going into work, that he could think of better things they could do with their day. She had never dated anyone who made their desire so plainly evident, their love so clear, and it was refreshing. Coming home has turned from a dreary affair to a joyous occasion.

She began to look at her paperwork, the sounds of chatter from her co-workers, the scratching of quills and wooshes of the purple interdepartmental memo aeroplanes filling the air.

"Hermione," a familiar voice said, and she looked up, startled.

It was Ron.

He was visibly nervous, his brow furrowed, his half smile laced with anxiety.

"Ron? What are you doing here?"

"Can we- we take a walk? I want to talk to you about something."

She considered her options. She had no interest, really, in having a discussion with Ron after the previous Saturday's blowout. But he was also one of her best friends, and in the end, loyalty and years of friendship won out.

They made their way down the hallway towards the lobby, and Ron began to speak.

"I'm here to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you and George on Saturday."

Hermione hasn't been expecting this, and she let him proceed, struggling with his words. He flushed slightly.

"I knew you were going to move on - I just didn't know how to react that you did - and it with George." He took a steadying breath. "And I'm happy for the two of you - it's still really weird for me - but Harry and Ginny said that you're really happy together and he treats you like a queen, and well," he flushed again, "you deserve that. I didn't do that."

Hermione melted. He was still Ron - the boy who risked detention to stand up for her against Snape, who ended up vomiting slugs after protecting her from Malfoy, the boy who copied her homework and teased her. And the man who fought next to her and Harry.

"We were young, and the world was burning," she said quietly. They made their way into the reception area, lined in black marble, surrounded by tens of fireplaces, with about a hundred witches and wizards flitting about.

He nodded. "Violet didn't really know what happened between us and she wants a friendship with you - she also was the one who pushed me to come talk to you."

"She's a good influence, I see," Hermione chuckled.

"She's better than I-"

But just then, an earth shattering rumble began. Hermione looked around, trying to determine the source of the noise, her fingers wrapped around the handle of her wand.

And then -

BOOM.

All at once, the massive circular room erupted into purple and green light, and she felt herself being lifted off her feet and being thrown through the air. Her last view was a snake made of green, glittering stars and Ron's face, contorted in pain, as he was ripped away from her in the other direction. And then the world went black.