Author's Note: Finally, another chapter! And I really really love this chapter. Again, I am so sorry if I did not reply to your reviews. I assure you, I read every single one and appreciated them immensely. Thank you so much for sticking with me. I know it's hard waiting this long in between chapters. I love all of you wonderful marvelous readers! Not Rowling.
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He was at his desk, sketching out ideas for a new product for the shop, a candy that would work like those muggle "mood rings" Hermione had told him about. They were absolutely rubbish, but the idea behind it was clever. The problem was that he couldn't get the mix right, and the effects were mixing up the colors and emotions. And one certainly didn't want to be bright pink when depressed. Well, no one wanted to be bright pink in general. He frowned and ruffled his hair, thinking. He heard light footsteps but ignored them. It was probably an issue with the porcupine quills. Suddenly, he felt a slight weight on his shoulders and smelled raspberries. Hermione's shampoo. He was about to turn his head when he felt lips graze the back of his neck in a soft kiss. He turned his head slightly, the next kiss landing on his cheek. He smiled at her and then his eyes widened as he realized what she was wearing. Or, more accurately, what she wasn't wearing. There she was, standing next to him, with only her long, bushy hair and a mischievous smile. He blinked a few times; this was just too good to be true.
"Have I somehow rendered the marvelous George Weasley speechless?" she teased.
He grinned and stood, closing the space between them in one stride and taking her in his arms. As they kissed, he felt her tugging at the bottom of his shirt. He broke the kiss with a laugh and pulled his shirt off with one hand before kissing her again.
"What, do I have to stay the only one with no clothes on?" she murmured against his lips.
George suddenly woke up, his face hot and the sheets tangled around his legs.
"Oh fuckin' hell," he muttered.
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"So, I was thinking about a product that worked like those muggle mood rings. You know, they change color dependant on mood, but we could do it with some kind of feature, like hair or eyes."
"Brilliant," said Lee as he poured himself a cup of tea and added far too much sugar than was healthy. "Where'd you get an idea like that?"
George hesitated as the image of Hermione from his dream flashed before his eyes. "Just came to me, you know," he said casually. He picked up a piece of toast and began buttering it. He gestured to Lee, who nodded and caught two of the pieces of toast George tossed him. He sat down and read upside-down the paper Lee was writing on.
"Mate, I can't read anything if you're getting smears of butter and marmalade all over it."
"Aw naff off," Lee said, his mouth full, before taking a swig of his sugary tea.
Hermione hurried out from her room, still in the midst of tying up her hair into a bun that sat high on her head, giving her a look reminiscent of old English royalty. She hobbled about, leaning against the kitchen counter to put on her other shoe, her hair now in place, as all her papers flew into her briefcase, which flew next to her work robes which were sitting by the fireplace.
"You alright there, Hermione?" Lee asked as he munched on his toast.
"Oh, good morning, Lee," she said cheerily. "I'm just a tad, um, where did I put my-"
"Scattered?" George supplied.
"Exactly. And I have a morning meeting in about two minutes. I just don't know where my head is today."
As she talked to Lee, she walked over to George, who had just finished putting the perfect amount of orange marmalade on his toast, and pulled the bread out of his hands seemingly without noticing what she was doing. George made a noise of dissent, but she didn't seem to hear it. She took a few bites and placed it back in George's still hand, which hadn't moved, more out of surprise than anything. She picked up his mug, took a few sips of his tea, and replaced it on the table as well.
"Well, I have to run. I'll see you lot later. You're coming over for dinner, right, Lee?" she asked, her hand resting on the back of George's neck for a moment in a goodbye gesture, her fingers grazing the fine hairs, before she headed to the fireplace. George flinched slightly at her touch, remembering the kisses on the back of his neck that had felt so real.
"Yeah, I'll be here," said Lee with an odd smile. He watched her rush to the floo and spin away before turning on George. "You cringed."
"What?" George asked, only half-listening as he frowned at his half-eaten piece of toast.
Lee watched him unblinkingly, a small grin on his face. "You cringed."
"When?"
"When she did that. When she had her hand on the back of your neck."
"I did not," George said, busying himself with a new piece of toast and determinedly not meeting Lee's eyes.
"Yes you did! You flinched, balked, recoiled, re-"
"Okay, I get it. You know a lot of words."
"Why?"
"It was unintentional. Just an accident."
A slow smile spread across Lee's face. "There's something you're not telling me, mate. And I will find out. How about I ask Hermione." He started to stand, as if to go after Hermione, but was cut off by George's mutter of "It won't help." He grinned and sat back down. "What doesn't Hermione know, then, mate?"
George glared at his best friend, who beamed back. Finally he sighed and muttered reluctantly, "I've been having dreams…about Hermione."
"Sex dreams?" George nodded. "So?" Lee asked expectantly.
"So what?"
"Is she good?"
"Jordan! Really?" George practically shouted, grimacing.
"What?" asked Lee innocently, a bright smile on his face. "I always figured she would be."
"I ju-, wait, what?" George asked, completely thrown.
"What? You didn't?"
"Why was that even something that crossed your mind? Have you thought this since Hogwarts?"
"Well, yeah," said Lee matter-of-factly. "A lot of us did."
George made a face of mild disgust. "Aw man, really? How could you even-"
"All that pent-up frustration has to go somewhere, mate. And she's a perfectionist, so you know what that-"
"Stop! I get it!" George shook his head like a dog trying to dry off. "I mean, that's Hermione Granger we're talking about!"
"I know," Lee said with a smirk.
"You're with Angelina, man."
"And you're the one having sex dreams about your roommate," Lee said with a smug look, knowing he had shut down George. "So," he said in his most professional manner, steepling his fingers like Dumbledore used to, "how was she?" There was a long pause as George looked down at his now-lukewarm tea. "She was good, wasn't she?"
"She was amazing, okay? Now can you drop it?"
Lee smiled proudly. "Good boy, now you're just as bad as the rest of us. How many dreams have there been?"
"Ten," George muttered.
"And this started when she snogged you at the ball, yeah?"
"Yeah."
"But that was only a week ago."
"I take naps," George mumbled.
Lee laughed loudly. "You fancy little Miss Priss. How does it feel to have fallen for the one girl who could tear you a new one?"
"Whoa," interjected George. "I do not fancy her! And I most certainly have not fallen for anyone! That's what the problem is! I can't avoid her because she's my flatmate. But I can't just sleep with her to see if they'll stop then, well, because she's my flatmate!"
"And she's your best friend, besides yours truly, of course."
"Exactly! I don't want to sleep with her. I honestly don't. These dreams are ridiculous, because they're, she's amazing, but then I wake up and remember that's not her. It's definitely not her."
"She's naughty, isn't she?" asked Lee with an evil grin. "Oh, I bet she's real-"
"Lee! Not the point!"
"No, you're wrong. That's exactly the point."
"What is?"
"You, my friend, need to get laid."
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"This is ridiculous," George muttered in frustration as he buttoned up his shirt and began rolling up the sleeves. "This is mad. He may have a point, but still-"
"Who are you talking to?"
George jumped and turned to see Hermione in the doorway to his bedroom, leaning against the doorframe and watching him curiously.
"No one. Myself."
"Where are you off to?" she asked, but cut him off just as he opened his mouth to answer. "Oh, it's Friday, how silly of me! It's been quite a while since you've been off gallivanting at the pubs, am I right?"
"Yes, it has been. I'm meeting Lee and Oliver there for a pint." He turned to her and spread his arms slightly. "How do I look?"
"So handsome I could just ravish you right here," she said, completely deadpan.
George blinked a few times, frozen, his jaw slightly slackened. He felt like he should pinch himself to make sure he was awake. His dreams had become startlingly lifelike lately. The sound of her laughter shook him from his moment of shock. He immediately closed his mouth, his teeth hitting against each other so hard he could hear it.
"Have I somehow rendered the marvelous George Weasley speechless?" she teased.
Oh sweet Merlin. That line. That was what she had said in his dream two nights before. He surreptitiously pinched himself. It really hurt. He wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing at this point.
"You just caught me by surprise, 'Mione. I never would have expected such words to come from your pure little mouth," he replied. "But then again, we know it's not so innocent, don't we?"
He winked roguishly at her, making her laugh, but inside he was kicking himself. He was simply being himself and somehow everything was making him think of those dreams. Lee was right; he really did need to get his mind off of them.
"You look very handsome. Don't break too many hearts tonight, George!" She flashed him a grin before heading back to her room.
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He had been sitting with Oliver and Lee for a while when he had spotted her. First he had noticed her hair – short and pin-straight, it fell in a perfect bob and glinted when the light fell on it, subtly shifting from blonde to a strawberry blonde as she turned her head. Then he noticed her laugh. He heard it from across the pub, loud but still pleasant, the kind of laugh that made you want to join in, to be a part of whatever was happening or, better yet, be the person making that wonderful laugh come from her. He had been watching her for a while when she turned her head suddenly and locked eyes with him. Even from across the room, he could tell she had bright green eyes, more leaf green than emerald, that had a kind of twinkle in them. She held eye contact for at least five full seconds, a smile on her face as she watched him unashamedly, before she turned back to whoever she had been talking to before.
"So, has the lion spotted his prey?" joked Lee.
"No," said George carefully. "She's different."
"What do you mean?" asked Oliver as he took a swig from his bottle.
"She's more than that. She's not someone you just spend the night with," George said as he watched her.
"How do you know that?" asked Oliver.
"I don't know. I just do."
He looked down at his drink for a moment before making up his mind. He stood up from the table and drained his drink quickly. "Thanks for the drinks, mates. I'm off."
"You go get it, Georgie Boy!" said Lee.
George grinned at them before heading over to where she stood at the bar with some friends. Just as he was about to approach, she moved away and a little farther down the bar, where there were far less people. She stopped and leaned her back against the bar, those bright green eyes immediately locking onto George's cerulean ones. He was a little surprised but continued over, a handsome smile on his face. He reached her and she stuck out her hand to shake.
"I'm Evangeline. What's your name?"
"George. My, you're forward," he said with a grin.
"I saw you watching me and I knew you wanted to come over."
"You knew, did you?" he teased.
"Oh yes, I was hoping you would too."
"Really? Intriguing."
She smiled, her face lighting up and her nose crinkling slightly, which he immediately found adorable. She held out a piece of parchment, on which was written Evangeline Watson. He took it and looked at her inquiringly.
"So you don't forget about me. Send me an owl; I'll see what I can do." She smiled and rested her hand softly on his left bicep. "It was very nice to meet you, George."
She gave him another look that was both strong yet twinkling. He wasn't sure how that was simultaneously possible, but here she was. She turned and walked back to her group of friends, collected her bag, and walked to the door. She turned once more, found his eyes watching her from across the pub, flashed him an impish grin, and then stepped out into the night.
This was it. This was the girl to get his mind off of those dreams. She was beautiful, mysterious, a definite challenge, and, best of all, seemingly nothing like Hermione.