Author's Note: A new chapter up! Finally! I can't wait to hear what you guys think! Thank you guys SO much for the reviews and I'm sorry I have not been responding to them. Just know that I read them all and I'm super appreciative. Not Rowling.
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"Hermione, over here!"
Hermione turned her head in the direction of the familiar deep voice and smiled when her eyes landed on Oliver, who was standing up from a booth towards the back of the pub. She smiled and headed over to him. He opened his arms and the exchanged a light hug that lasted a few seconds longer than usual, mostly because neither seemed to want to let go too quickly. They sat down, Hermione sliding into the seat across from Oliver.
"Sorry," he said quickly with one of his boyish grins, "I ordered for you." He gestured at the two Butterbeers on the table. "I hope you don't mind."
"No, thank you," she said quickly, "That was very sweet of you."
"So what happened to make it a 'hell of a day'? It can't be your wardrobe because you look really lovely."
He smiled at her, an open smile that showed her he actually meant what he said. She felt a tinge of embarrassment for a moment – why had she felt the need to analyze his expression? He had always been so open with her the last times they had talked. Perhaps she was just too used to watching George's face to see if he was being honest or joking.
She blushed and smiled gratefully as she glanced down at herself. She had come straight from work and was still wearing her black pencil skirt and white blouse, having taken off her traditional work robes and put them in her bag. It didn't matter how long she had lived in the wizarding world, she still felt more comfortable in muggle clothing than in billowing and cumbersome robes, which she only wore when she had an important meeting to attend.
"Well, thank you. That's sweet of you to say. No, it was just people at work. We're trying to hire some new writers and some secretaries, and it's just been mayhem. And I was rushing about at meetings. There was this woman I had to deal with today who was just awful! She was just horrid to me, and to everyone around. She made one of my writers start crying in the middle of the meeting. She reminded me of Rita Skeeter. She even had the blonde hair and the bright clothing!"
Oliver shuddered.
"That woman's a ruddy nightmare. I remember she wrote this piece on the team. Made us all out to be these big hulking morons who couldn't find the right end of a broomstick. I remember she wrote about me and said I was, 'an uncouth teuchter whose mildly good looks were not enough to make up for my horrible temperament.'"
"That's awful!" Hermione cried. "You're plenty good looking! And you don't have a horrible temperament! Manic, maybe every once and a while, but you're hardly bad tempered."
Oliver laughed.
"Manic? I'm manic? Says the woman who snapped at people for touching her tower of books in school and tried to study in the middle of a quidditch party."
"You were no better, making everyone practice in storms and at ungodly hours of the morning! You put quidditch before school and you acted like every game was a matter of life or death!"
"Sometimes it was! You must remember all the accidents. Just Harry alone made it look like quidditch was a fight to the death. Or at least to the Hospital Wing."
"You're ridiculous," Hermione said, laughing and rolling her eyes.
"And what was that about me being 'plenty good looking'?" Oliver asked with a grin.
"What?" Hermione blushed slightly, mentally cursing her cheeks as she felt them heating up.
"You said I was 'plenty good looking.'" Oliver's cocky grin was unmistakable now; he was clearly having fun making Hermione turn colors.
"You know you are," Hermione said, trying to sound as blasé as possible. "There's no need to get a big head over it."
Oliver chuckled, seeing right through her bored countenance.
"Well, you're far beyond 'plenty good looking.'" He smiled softly as Hermione blushed furiously and mumbled a thank you but really I don't think-. "You really are. I don't think you're told that enough, but you're beautiful. Inside and out."
Hermione was saved from trying to figure out how to coherently respond to such a sweet statement by a waitress coming to their table.
"Are you two interested in dinner?"
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"What do you feel like doing tonight?" Evangeline said as she looked at her reflection in George's mirror and fixed a stray hair that was falling from her ballerina bun, which was adorned with a simple black ribbon tied in a bow.
"How about we go out to dinner?"
"Oh that sounds nice. You know, there's this new French place called Le Lapin Grillé that I've been dying to try."
"Hermione told me about that place. She said it's got amazing food, really authentic. I think she went there about a week ago."
"Of course she did," muttered Evangeline.
"That sounds like a good place to go," said George as he searched around his room for his wallet. He had thrown it onto his desk yesterday but it was now lost in the mess of crumpled parchment, product designs, and general debris that filled his room.
"Well, if Hermione says so, it must be," said Evangeline bitterly.
"What?" George turned towards her, frowning slightly.
"Nothing," she said, but there was definitely a sharp edge to it.
"No, there was definitely something. What's wrong?" he asked cautiously.
"Nothing. It's fine. Let's go to dinner. I'm thinking Chinese," she said. George could tell the cheery note to her voice was false, but she left the room before he could mention it. He decided he would just keep it to himself.
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Hermione and Oliver walked out of the pub, laughing about some story he was telling about one of his teammates, who had shown up to practice completely wasted and rudely impersonated their coach, who had been standing behind him the whole time, before jumping on his broom and barely clinging on for a few moments before falling off, having only been a meter off the ground the entire time.
"I had a really great time tonight, Oliver," said Hermione as she looked up at him.
He smiled at her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"I'm glad. I'm always here if you ever need someone to help brighten your frustrating day," said Oliver.
They made their way down the road until the ended at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.
"Thank you so much for tonight; it was a lot of fun," she said.
"I'm glad you had fun. I did too," said Oliver.
There was a moment, a tense moment where neither knew exactly what to do with themselves considering they were standing close, Hermione standing on a step above him so their faces were level. Just as Hermione was feeling terribly awkward and thinking that maybe she should give him a quick hug and then run upstairs to hide in her room, mortified at her sudden lack of people skills, Oliver leaned forward. His lips met hers as he kissed her softly. He started to move back when she leaned forward and continued the kiss. He smiled into the kiss before wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck, one hand on the back of his neck as they kissed, more decisively than before. A few moments later, before anything could get heated, they broke apart.
"Goodnight, Hermione," he said softly.
"Goodnight, Oliver."
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They were lying together on his bed, his fingers playing with her hair as she drew imaginary pictures on his chest with her finger. They had been lying like this for a while now, probably about half an hour, however long it had been since they had gotten back from the Chinese restaurant. It was calm, comfortable. He felt his eyes starting to close as he felt the warmth of her body against his.
"George?"
"Hm?"
"We should move in together."
He was awake now.
"What?" he said sharply, sitting up quickly.
She sat up as well and immediately repositioned herself to face him as she pleaded her case.
"Wouldn't that be nice? I mean, we're over at either yours or my place almost every night. I already have some of my clothes here. I mean, I have a toothbrush here for Merlin's sake. Wouldn't it just be smarter to put it all together and not have to worry about who's at what house and having to go back to change or whatever?"
"You want us…to live together…like, together-together?" said George hesitantly, still feeling a little slow. This had blindsided him and he still hadn't exactly caught up yet.
"I could move in here and—"
"But Hermione lives here."
"She can move out," Evangeline said cheerily.
"No, she can't," said George slowly.
"Yes, she can live somewhere else and we can use that room as—"
"I'm not going to kick Hermione out because you want to suddenly move in."
"I mean, we've been together for four months," she said with a hopeful smile.
"Three and half, and that's really soon to be moving in, Angie," he said, now feeling definitely uneasy.
"You moved in with Hermione just because she needed a place to live. You weren't even dating her!"
"But that's different—"
Evangeline stood up and began pacing the room, her hands gesturing violently as she talked.
"You moved in with her and you didn't even have a relationship. And we're actually a couple and you have a problem with this?"
"My mum arranged it. It wasn't like I invited her up to my room and then told her she should stay."
Evangeline's cheeks were bright red now and her green eyes flashed dangerously.
"Don't even say this was because of your mum. If you two didn't like it, she could have found new digs and moved out. But she stayed. You two have been living together for almost a year now. Is there something going on?"
"What? What do you mean by that?"
"Is there something going on between you two?" she half-shouted.
"Wha-, no! Angie, you know there's nothing like that happening!" George said quickly, feeling almost angry that she was accusing him of infidelity. He might have not kept up with the girls when they were all one-night stands, but he prided himself on being an honest and loyal partner.
"Ten months, George. That's a long time to be living with a woman and not have anything happening," she said, her insinuation coming through in every word she said.
"Evangeline, for fuck's sake, I did not cheat on you! And I never would! I'm just saying I don't want to rush into things, and moving in after three and a half months is most certainly rushing it."
"She moved in the next day after you talked about this. The next day, George."
"I knew her for nine years before she moved in. It's not like she's some floozy I picked up off the street. Hermione is one of my best friends," defended George, angrily gritting his teeth as he felt the back of his neck and his ears burning in true Weasley fashion.
"Men and women can never be just friends, George!" Evangeline shouted, finally coming to a standstill in front of him.
"That's bollocks and you know it!" he shouted back, just on the edge of completely losing his temper.
"Look me straight in the eyes and tell me you've never thought about Hermione as more than a friend," Evangeline challenged, practically seething now.
"What?"
"You heard me. Do it. Look me in the eyes and tell me you've never thought of her that way."
"You're ridiculous," he said, fuming.
"You won't do it because it's true. I'm done, George. I'm done trying to match her, be better than her."
"What are you even talking about?"
"Oh come on," she snapped. "You talk about her constantly, she has an opinion on everything that you always feel the need to share with me. It's like you two are attached at the hip. She's practically a part of this relationship."
"That is bollocks! Since we started dating, I've seen less and less of Hermione. I don't think I've even had a full conversation with her this month. Why? Because I'm always with you!"
"So she's not physically around often, so what? She's all you talk about! You're ridiculous!"
Evangeline stormed out of the room and George followed her out to the sitting room, where she was forcefully pulling on her jacket.
"I'm ridiculous?" said George sardonically. "You want us to move in together after three months and I'm ridiculous?"
"That's it, George," she said, walking to the front door and turning to face him. "You have to pick: Hermione or me. You do not get both any longer."
She turned on her heel, threw open the door, and walked out, slamming the door shut behind her.