Author's Note: I am not Rowling, but I am in the middle of finals, which explains my delay in getting chapters up.
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"I think I've found a new flatmate for you!" Mrs. Weasley sung happily.
"WHAT?" cried Hermione and George.
"No no no! No way!" cried George, just as Hermione said hurriedly, "Absolutely not! That is insane!"
"Why?" asked Mrs. Weasley desperately. "It's perfect!"
"Perfect? Are you mad, woman?" George practically shouted.
"No way! There is absolutely no way that will work!" cried Hermione, staring at Mrs. Weasley, aghast.
Mrs. Weasley put her hands on her hips and glared at the two of them just as the rest of the family trooped in for dinner.
"What's all this ruckus about?" asked Ron as he sat down.
Mrs. Weasley spoke up before George or Hermione had the chance. "Hermione has been kicked out of her apartment, and George has been searching for a flatmate so-"
"Why were you kicked out?" asked Harry quickly. Every eye turned to Hermione, including George, who had not heard the context for Hermione needing a place to stay.
"Cressida kicked me out because of Balthazar," answered Hermione, to which Harry and Ron scowled and Ginny rolled her eyes. They were not fans of Cressida either.
"Wait…so you want George and Hermione to move in together?" Ginny asked Mrs. Weasley. A laugh burst from her lips and she was joined by Ron, Harry, and Mr. Weasley, who was chuckling quietly. "Talk about an unlikely pair!"
"Why is everyone so against this?" asked Mrs. Weasley desperately.
"Molly, dear, you realize they are almost polar opposites, don't you?" replied Mr. Weasley, trying to reason with her.
"So? Opposites attract!"
Ron sniggered in response. "She'll kill him." Harry snorted, fighting to keep a straight face under the glare of Mrs. Weasley.
As everyone sat down at the table, Mrs. Weasley remained standing and fixed her eyes on Hermione and George. "George Fabian Weasley, you have been complaining for two months about living alone. You are going to let Hermione live with you, and I mean it." He opened his mouth to argue but she talked over him. "This is not the gentleman I raised. I am disappointed in your behavior." George hung his head and the smiles evaporated from everyone's faces. They all knew hearing your parent was disappointed in you was the most painful jab a parent could give. "And Hermione," she started. Hermione froze and her eyes widened, reminiscent of a deer in the headlights. "This is a fantastic opportunity. It's a marvelous flat, there's no rent to pay, and heaven knows George could benefit from someone who actually knows how to cook. It would be absolutely ridiculous to pass this up." Hermione looked over at George, who was sitting a couple seats away, and sent him a questioning glance. He raised his eyebrows and sighed slightly, as if to say Well, since we have to, but nodded. Mrs. Weasley beamed. "So it's settled then! Fantastic! Well, who's ready for dinner?"
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There was a crack! and Hermione dropped George's hand. "Well, this is it," she said quietly, unlocking the door and letting him in. "I'll only be a minute. You can wait out here."
"Your roommate won't mind?" Hermione snorted, and George looked over at her quickly, surprised.
"She's much too fabulous and famous to spend an evening in," said Hermione, her tone tinted with mocking. "That was my favorite part of living here. She sleeps in impossibly late and is never home in the evening due to her impossibly busy schedule of partying and refusing to eat anything."
Hermione turned and George watched her retreating back, a small smile on his lips. He had never heard such a snarky comment from Hermione before and was honestly surprised. He knew she had a temper, and it had often been directed at him and Fred in school, but this level of sarcasm was unexpected, but rather welcome. As he heard things shifting around in her room, he walked around the sitting room and looked around. Immediately over the fireplace hung a huge framed picture of a tall, waiflike woman posing and looking sulky on the cover of a magazine. She was attractive, George would give her that, but he wouldn't call her beautiful. She had jet black hair that was fanning around her, as if a huge gust of wind had just blown it back, and she had bright eyes that were blue bordering on purple and obviously fake. The clothes she wore were flattering and she was indeed quite striking, but she was imposing, angular, and haughty-looking. She did not look like the kind of girl you could actually date. Or hug, for that matter, for fear of snapping her in two. His eyes moved from the picture and immediately fell on another, still of the woman, but posing in a different setting. He scanned the room and realized that all the pictures in the room were of this woman, and there was not a single picture of her with a friend or a family member, and there was absolutely no sign that Hermione lived there at all.
"So you've met Cressida, I see," said a voice behind him. He turned and grinned at Hermione, who was looking at the pictures with her eyebrows raised, her face registering mingled boredom and bemusement.
"Yes, but she's not much of a talker. Kind of flat, if you know what I mean." Hermione grinned and turned back towards her room, gesturing for him to follow. "So, what do you need help with?" He walked in and saw that the bedroom was completely stripped.
"Well, I have everything packed in suitcases and I shrunk them and my furniture down, so now I just need to take my things from the kitchen." With a wave of her wand, pots, pans, spices, food, and appliances came flying from the kitchen and soared into the box that was in George's arm.
"Alright! All set?"
"No! I need to find Balthazar. Hold on!" She hurried out of the room and walked out a few minutes later with a wicker basket, from which a mewing sound could be heard. The two of them, plus the cat, walked to the fireplace.
George looked at her, silently telling her to pay attention before throwing floo powder into the fire, shouting "Number 94, Diagon Alley," stepping in, and disappearing with a whoosh. She followed and stepped out into George's apartment for the first time.
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"So there's the flat," George said after showing her around. "It's late so maybe you want to sleep in the spare bed and tomorrow I'll help you move in everything?"
"Uhh…yeah, that sounds good. Thanks George," she said, a little surprised at this kind gesture. She perched on the edge of the sofa, a little unsure, as George sat down in the armchair across from her. "Well, I guess we should establish some ground rules."
"Suppose so. So…what weird habits do you have, Miss Granger? Sleepwalk? Sleep in the nude? Both?" He winked cheekily at her and she blushed as she tried to give him a disapproving look.
"None of the above. Sorry to dash your hopes." She was pleased to see that his eyebrows raised, though he was still smiling, obviously impressed with her cheeky response. "Umm…well, I am a morning person. Oh, and I have to have Balthazar."
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"I am a morning person also, and I will ignore the fact that I am not a cat person if you make sure to clean up after him and such." Hermione nodded, so he went on. "Well, might as well warn you now – I walk around in my shorts a lot," he said, noting Hermione's eyebrows raising infinitesimally, "I have female guests over often, and I am complete rubbish at doing anything that concerns food. Besides going out to eat, that is."
"Well, I love to cook, so that's easy, and I hardly expect you to change the way you go about your day or your love life just because I'm here. But a warning before someone shows up would probably be wise."
He grinned at her. "You know, I did not expect you to be so laid back about this, Hermione."
She shrugged and smiled. "I just appreciate that you are letting me live here when we hardly know each other."
"Well, I will accept your kind words and just ignore the fact that I was under death threat from my mother," he said with a grin, but then he became serious. "We hardly know each other? Why would you say that?"
"Well, honestly, we don't. I mean, I've known you for almost ten years, but we were never close. If you really think about it, the closest we got to personal conversations were our arguments about your products."
George frowned and leaned back in his chair, thinking. This was actually very true. Hermione and he had never had a conversation of substance that had not directly centered on their products, the Order, the war, or Harry. It seemed incredibly odd that they had known each other for so long, but still had no idea about who the other really was. "Well, I guess tonight's a new starting point, then." He paused for a moment before leaning forward, outstretching his arm, and holding out his hand. "Hello there. My name is George Weasley."
She looked bemusedly at his hand for a moment before her eyes flicked up to his and he felt her eyes search his face, trying to figure out if he was being serious. She seemed satisfied with what she saw, as she stuck out her hand and shook his solidly. "I'm Hermione Granger."
George grinned. "It's very nice to meet you, Hermione Granger."
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A/N: So, now that that is cleared up, I am sorry for the delay between chapters, but I am in the middle of finals and I had a nervous breakdown yesterday, so I was just lucky to write this short chapter as a break from my studies. I hope you enjoyed it.