Author's Note: I am sorry for the delay in chapters but I hope this extra long one makes you happy! And I'm sorry again for not responding personally to the wonderful reviews you wonderful readers left me. I read and appreciated every single one! Thank you! Not Rowling!
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"It will be fine!"
"No. No, it won't."
"Yes it will! He can't be that bad!"
Hermione raised her head from its resting place on her folded arms and looked skeptically at Harry from across the table.
"You don't know Rockwell."
"What about Rockwell?" asked Ron, walking into the kitchen and sitting down next to Hermione.
"He's after Hermione," said Harry with an amused smile.
"Stop it!" she cried, leaning forward as she tried to swat Harry, who moved back out of her reach and grinned. "It's not funny!"
"What's wrong with Rockwell? He's nice enough. He's been helpful when I've had meetings with him."
"He's nice enough to men, Ron," said Ginny as she turned from helping her mother with the roasted carrots they would be having with dinner, "But he's rather insufferable towards women."
"Thank you!" Hermione cried, giving an I-told-you-so look to Harry, who just shook his head and gestured for Ron to throw him a dinner roll.
"He hits on women all the time. And he's irritatingly persistent. When I showed up at the Ministry to meet Harry for lunch, he would not stop flirting with me until Harry showed up. I think he realized that flirting with Harry Potter's girlfriend was probably a poor move."
"He thinks he's the perfect man or something!" added Hermione.
"Well, he is gorgeous. I mean, that jawline is so perf-" Harry coughed loudly. Ginny stopped and smiled. "Oh quiet, you! You have no reason to be jealous!" They smiled at each other as Ron tore the crusty roll apart with his teeth, showering the table with crumbs, and Hermione groaned.
"Yes, he's good looking. Marvelous for him. But I need help from you lot! What am I supposed to do? He thinks I'm bringing my boyfriend. I can't show up alone!"
"I'm sorry, 'Mione. I'd go with you, but Gin and I are already going," said Harry.
"I'm going with Luna," said Ron. "Sorry."
"Why not George?" said Mrs. Weasley. Everyone quieted and looked over at her. She was leaning against the kitchen counter, her arms crossed across her apron-clad chest, watching them thoughfully. "He'd probably help you. He has to go anyways, and this way we'd be sure he's actually going to show up, which would be nice."
"I-" Hermione faltered. "Wow. I feel like a right idiot. I never even thought of asking George."
"How odd; you do everything else together," replied Harry with a smirk.
"You didn't think of George either. Don't act like you did," teased Ginny.
"Well, you can ask him now. He just got here," said Ron with a grin as he stole Hermione's drink and took a swig of it. Right then, George walked in through the kitchen door.
"Hello everyone. How-" He faltered, seeing every face in the room turned towards him, expectant. "Why is everyone watching me again? I'm not getting another roommate, am I?"
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"So, let me make sure I understand. You want me to come with you to the Minister's Ball, which my mum so graciously reminded me I am obligated to go to, as your date and pretend to be your boyfriend because you told Rockwell you're going with your boyfriend," George said carefully, watching Hermione.
"Because otherwise he'll try to be with me the entire night and I just want him to leave me alone," replied Hermione.
"Because he's a wanker who can't take no for an answer," supplied Ginny, who was shushed by an amused Mrs. Weasley. There was a beat of silence as George thought it over.
"Will it be necessary for me to scare him away?" George said, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Possibly," said Hermione.
"I'm in."
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"I'm so sorry about this again."
"Why do you keep apologizing?"
"Because I feel bad asking you to do this?"
"Why would you feel bad?"
"I…I don't know…I just do!"
"I owe you, so it's paying off a debt, if you will."
"What debt?"
"You saved me from that nutter Zandra a couple months back, remember? You pretended to be my girlfriend to get me out of there." There was a pause and George could picture Hermione on the other side of the door, stopping in the midst of her getting ready to remember, her eyebrows contracting and her lips pursing in concentration. "You were wearing that black dress. The one that shows off your bum nicely."
"Oh I re-, wait, why were you looking at my bum?"
"What, you expected me to not look at it while you were wearing that dress?" he asked, the right corner of his mouth tugging up into a smile that was almost a smirk. He heard her sigh in false irritation. "You almost ready in there?"
"Not yet."
"Oh for the love of Merlin, what is taking you so long?" he cried, leaning back against her bedroom door with a loud thump.
"Excuse me for not being able to simply wash my hair and pull of a set of dress robes! I am a woman – we take longer to get ready."
"Apparently," he muttered. He waited a few more minutes before sighing and giving up. He moved to the sitting room and picked up a book at random, which turned out to be Hermione's. "Unfogging the Future," he read aloud, frowning. "Why the hell would she have that?"
"Ron gave it to me as a joke present for my birthday. I need to bring it back to the bookstore and exchange it for something useful," said Hermione as she walked out of her room and towards George.
George looked up and his breath caught in his throat. Hermione was standing in front of him looking absolutely stunning. She was wearing an emerald green evening gown that skimmed the floor when she walked. Its asymmetrical neckline showed off her pale neck and collarbone, while the dress caught in at the waist with a small belt that seemed to be made of slender gold ropes, holding in the gentle ruching of the chiffon that hugged her curves without it being too tight or too showy. Her hair was down, draped over her dress-free shoulder, and fell in soft curls rather than her normal bushy spirals. Her makeup was simple, as was her jewelry, with a teardrop of emerald hanging from each delicate gold chain hanging from each ear. She spun around and then stopped, watching George, worried.
"Do I look decent?"
There was a full beat of silence as George tried to muster the ability to form a coherent sentence, rather unsuccessfully, before he spat out, "You look amazing, Hermione."
"Really?"
"Yes," he said quickly. "Really. I just-, you look-, I-, wow. Just…wow." He cursed his cheeks that were heating up. Why was he having such trouble forming a sentence? This was ridiculous. This was Hermione Granger for Merlin's sake! He had seen Hermione at her worst; he had seen the crimson face, the puffy eyes swollen from crying, the runny nose than no amount of tissues seemed to remedy, her voice unintelligible and three octaves higher as she sobbed. Why was it now that he was tongue tied? He fidgeted with the collar of his robes.
"Seems warm in here," he muttered under his breath.
"You ready to go?" Hermione asked as she check her small beaded bag for everything she might need, obviously missing George's discomfort.
"Yes. Yes, let's go," he said, ignoring the odd, hearty tone to his voice that he had never heard there before. He walked over to the fire and threw some powder in before giving Hermione, who had followed him over, a little bow. "Ladies first!"
She smiled and shouted "Minister's Ballroom" before stepping into the fire and spinning away. George took a moment to shake himself. He was obviously just having issues today. Maybe he was just nervous that Kingsley might want him to say something. Yes, that must be the reason for the odd behavior. And with that last comforting thought, he stepped into the emerald flames with a shout of "Minister's Ballroom" and spun away.
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He stepped out of the fireplace and into a coatroom, and his arm was immediately grabbed. He was yanked to the side and almost crashed into a worried-looking Hermione.
"You were right behind me; what took you so long?" she whispered quickly.
"I…had to grab something," he replied, trying to not show his hesitation. Why was this suddenly so difficult? He was always so suave and today it just felt like someone had confunded him. "But I'm here now," he added cheerily.
Suddenly, they were joined by Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Luna, the latter of whom grabbed his hand and started pulling him into the ballroom.
"It's good to see you, George," said Luna in her slow, melodic voice. "Do you like the new advertisements for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes we've been running in The Quibbler this past month?"
"Yes, very much, actually." He looked over his shoulder to check that Hermione was still there. She was walking behind them, busy talking to Ron about something. Probably House Elves making the feast tonight, knowing her. "I liked the pop-out element," he said to Luna, who was leading him towards a table where Neville and a girl he didn't recognize sat amidst a plethora of empty chairs. "What made you think to do that?"
"Oh, I love your products and how original they are, so I thought it would be a good way to really capture people's attention when they're reading."
"Well," he replied as he pulled out a chair for Luna, who smiled gratefully and then sat, "it certainly caught my attention. The confetti may have been a bit much though."
Luna nodded thoughtfully before turning to talk around Ron, who she was sitting next to, to Ginny about something. George turned to his left and saw Hermione fidgeting with the napkin in front of her, constantly folding it and refolding it into different shapes. He snatched the napkin out of her hands, earning a shocked intake of breath, and set it atop his own.
"Calm down, 'Mione," he said quietly. "There's nothing for you to worry about. I'm here."
She smiled at him and laughed nervously.
"I don't know why I'm nervous. I don't even have a speech to give or something."
As Hermione talked on, George scanned the room. He had a vague idea of what this Thomas Rockwell fellow looked like, but he wanted to make sure he spotted him before he had a chance to come over and talk to Hermione. His gaze passed over countless faces, some he recognized, some he vaguely knew, others he had never seen before. Finally, he gaze fell on a man who was watching Hermione intently. George took in the dark hair and eyes, the man's obvious height, and his air of self-importance, which was tangible even across a crowded ballroom. Just as Rockwell seemed to have decided to come over and talk to Hermione, Kingsley Shacklebolt magically amplified his voice and addressed the guests.
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"Colleagues, friends, distinguished guests, ladies and gentlemen: thank you for being here tonight. Tonight is a special night, where we would like to form bonds and connect with those we thought strangers, as well as thank and honor a number of people who have done so much for us in these past two years."
He paused for a moment to take a breath and smile at the audience.
"First, of course, we have to thank Harry Potter." A spotlight suddenly fell on Harry, who smiled and ducked his head. He never had been good with praise. "Not only for the obvious of finally bringing us to peace, but also for his work in the rebuilding of Hogwarts, the Ministry, and our society itself. We can never thank you enough, Harry."
The applause filled the room and made Hermione's ears ache.
"Look at you, Mister Popular," she whispered to Harry, teasing. He grinned embarrassedly and practically buried his face in Ginny's hair. She picked up her goblet and took a sip of her cold pumpkin juice.
"And we owe much thanks to Hermione Granger," came Kingsley's voice as a spot dropped on her, blinding her. She sputtered, choking slightly on her drink in surprise, and immediately felt her face burn. She heard a whispered "Anapneo" and felt George's hand on her knee under the table, silently asking her if she was alright. She rested her hand atop his and gave it a quick squeeze.
"Miss Granger not only took over the most corrupt system in our country after the war and renewed it, making sure we could again trust the printed word, but also has helped us create strong bonds with our fellow Wizarding states as our International Ambassador. Hermione, your dedication is appreciated every day."
There was a loud round of applause, which was cut by Kingsley adding, "How about a round of applause for all of you here, for all of you who helped us grow and heal after the way, whether it be through rebuilding or simply keeping faith in those who were." More applause rang through the room that somehow seemed to be almost full despite its vast size.
"Isn't he going to thank you for helping bring back the country's Quidditch teams?" Hermione whispered to Ron as soon as the spotlight was removed.
"He better not," hissed Ron with a grin. "It's not as big as what you two have done. Plus, I'm enjoying myself far too much watching all of you turn colors." Everyone at the table laughed.
Kingsley put up his hand for silence and then continued, the spotlight now dropping onto George, who scowled slightly.
"I would also like to take this moment, especially because I know Molly made sure he didn't duck out of the ball this year," Kingsley's booming voice said as he grinned and looked over at their table, "to thank George Weasley, who has not only graciously given his time and money to help rebuild Hogwarts and the Ministry, but has created the Fred Weasley Foundation, which donates money to the orphanages in order to get the boys and girls, whose families were taken from them in the war, into loving foster homes. You truly are a hero, George."
Loud applause bounced off the polished marble floors and high vaulted ceilings as Hermione stared at George, shocked. She had no idea he had ever done anything like that. She knew he donated money to different wizarding charities, always in Fred's name, but she never knew it was to this extent. She clapped hard along with the others, still in a bit of a daze. As the spotlight was pulled off of George and Kingsley continued, now talking about something else, Hermione put her hand on George's bicep.
"George?" she said quietly. He raised his head and she saw he was beet red. "Why didn't you ever tell me you do things, wonderful things, like that?"
"I can't have you thinking I'm a good guy, now can I?" he joked, although she could tell he was embarrassed. "I've still got to be the joker."
"Well, I think that's a marvelous thing you're doing. Fred would be proud." He smiled at her and she leaned forward, giving him a light kiss on the cheek.
"You want to dance?" asked George quickly, obviously wanting to change the topic before his face turned purple. She laughed and extended her hand to him as he stood. He pulled her up and led her out to the dance floor.
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"I'm famished," Hermione said as they spun off the dance floor and came to rest near their table. "I'm going to go eat."
"I'll be right there," George said as he unclasped his hand from hers. "I need to talk to Kingsley. And get a stiff drink."
Hermione laughed. "Be nice," she warned.
He winked at her and then headed over to where Kingsley was standing, towering over the very petite Président of France's République Française de la Magie. After a short conversation, some hand shaking, and a clap on the back, George headed off to the bar that was at one end of the ballroom. As he walked up, the bartender looked at him expectantly.
"One Firewhiskey," he said. He stood, leaning against the bar, slowly sipping his much-needed drink, when the man he had seen earlier showed up, the smile he was wearing almost too bright, too fake.
"George Weasley, right?" he asked. George nodded. "Thomas Rockwell," he said as he held out his hand to shake George's. "Head of Magical Games and Sports."
"Nice to meet you."
"Marvelous occasion, isn't it? It's always great to get everyone together."
It seemed to George that Rockwell was talking about this huge ball, filled with many foreign leaders, as if it was a Hogwarts class reunion. He smiled faintly at Rockwell.
"Kingsley sure knows how to throw a party," he replied lightly, earning a laugh from Rockwell.
"I see you're here with Hermione," Rockwell said carefully, obviously testing the waters.
"I am indeed."
Rockwell frowned slightly, obviously displeased with George's apparent lack of conversation skills, not knowing it was born from dislike rather than poor manners. Just as Rockwell opened his mouth, probably to ask if George was dating Hermione, George spoke up.
"I'd better be getting back. Nice meeting you." He hurried off in search of Hermione.
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"I do not like him," whispered George in Hermione's ear as he walked up to her and gently put his hand on the small of her back. She started slightly but smiled when she recognized the voice.
"He's awful, isn't he? What did you two talk about?"
"Hardly anything, which really displeased him. I basically greeted him, introduced myself, and then left."
She laughed, leaning against George slightly as she did so. George laughed with her, though his eyes once again caught Rockwell's gaze, which was, as always it seemed, on Hermione. He wrapped his arm securely around her waist and continued to distract her, talking to her about the other people at the party and how silly some of them looked, but all the while keeping a lookout for Rockwell.
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The night had gone on relatively smoothly, and eventually George and Hermione separated to talk to whomever they liked. Rockwell didn't seem too much of a threat, at least up to this point, and so George felt comfortable giving Hermione more space for the night, although he always kept an eye out for where she was. He had just come from the toilets and was about to walk out of the small hallway he was in and back into the party where Hermione came rushing over.
"Oh thank Merlin!" she whispered hurriedly.
"What happened? Is something wrong?" Had he been in the loo so long that something could have happened?
"Rockwell came over and started practically interrogating me. He said he didn't believe we were dating and said you were just an excuse so I wouldn't come with him."
"Which is the truth…" George added quietly.
"Yes, but he can't know that!" hissed Hermione. "I think he's coming. Put your hands low on my waist."
"Excuse me?" asked George quickly, thrown off.
"Do it! He was following me before and he could show up any second. Just look happy and hold my waist and we'll be fine."
"I'm perfectly happy to oblige," said George with a roguish wink.
She laughed in spite of her and swatted him lightly. There were footsteps heard near, obviously coming into the hallway they were in. Her eyes widened and darted up to his face, surveying him for a moment.
"I apologize ahead of time for this," she said quickly.
"Apologize for wha-"
His words were cut off as Hermione put her hands on either side of his face and kissed him right on the mouth.