As George rushed towards the Quidditch pitch, his mind kept returning to the look on Hermione's face right after he kissed her the day before. It was quite the look, especially considering he'd only kissed her cheek. He wondered how she'd look if he kissed her properly, would she blush or turn pale, or worse, reject him completely. He was hoping that wouldn't happen. Assuming she ever let him get near enough to kiss her. She would have slapped him or something if she hadn't liked him kissing her, right? At this point he wasn't particularly sure of anything. Except that this was very probably going to be the longest team meeting of his life.
And it was. The discussion of strategy bored him. He barely noted the practice times for the next week. Fred had to nudge him when Katie asked a question about chaser/beater strategy. It was sheer torture sitting there talking about moves when he could be with Hermione trying to figure out how she felt about him. Since he was starting to figure out that he was feeling something for her, much to his surprise.
Generally girls his little brother's age didn't interest him. Of course the fact that the only girls that age he knew, aside from Mione, were Parvati and Lavender could have something to do with that. Gossip and giggles generally didn't interest him either. But neither did bookworms. Except Mione was more than a bookworm. She was smart and studious, yes, but she was also pretty daring and adventurous if half of what Ron said was true. And there was that talk they'd had on the beach, where she revealed a great deal of vulnerability that made George want to act all protective. Which was pretty scary since he never felt like that about anyone, except his family.
The worst part, though, was the fact that when she had smiled at him after he teased her out of her bad mood it made his chest go tight. That was pretty freaky. When she had colour in her cheeks and her eyes were sparkling with energy, she was one of the prettiest girls George had ever seen. He'd never really noticed it before, but after spending so much time with her over the past two days he was seeing a whole lot of new things in Hermione.
The meeting finally broke up, and George hurried towards the castle. As he walked away from the field, still wrapped in his own thoughts, he heard Harry's voice from behind him.
"Hey, George, d'you have a moment?"
George stopped and waited for the younger boy to catch up.
"What's on your mind, Harry?"
"Well, I'm not quite sure how to say this," Harry paused, then rushed on. "Are you interested in Hermione?"
George stared at him. He'd thought that Ron would have been the one to challenge him, not Harry. It looked like this could be awkward.
"Why are you asking?"
"She's my best friend and I really don't want to see her hurt and I think that she might be interested in you and I want to make sure that you're not just playing with her and wow this is the longest sentence ever!" Harry stopped and took a breath. "Really George, I'm just wanting to know that you aren't going to hurt her, that you're either seriously interested or not interested at all. Because if you do anything to make her upset, I will beat you with your own Quidditch club. Just so you know."
George was about to laugh at the ferocious look on the younger boy's face, but realized that it probably wouldn't help his cause at all.
"Harry," he began, "I'm not entirely sure what I feel for Hermione, but I do know that I would never, ever knowingly hurt her. So you can stop looking at me like that."
Harry laughed and relaxed. As he turned to go, George caught his arm.
"There is one thing I want to ask. What is Ron going to think if I do ask Hermione on a date? Is he in love with her?"
"Y'know George," Harry replied, "I'm really not sure. I think that Ron is too possessive of Hermione, but in the end he probably doesn't want to date her. It just bothers him that other people notice that his friend is a girl. Maybe if I could get him fixed up with someone else, he'd get over his belief that Mione shouldn't date."
"You're as much of a match maker as Lavender and Parvati, aren't you?" George laughed.
"Yeah, but I'm a lot better at it, don't you think?" Harry grinned and walked away.
George stared after the younger boy, still chuckling over the thought of Harry Potter - Matchmaker. He took a deep breath. Harry had said that Hermione might return his interest, which had given him a fluttering feeling in his stomach. And if the other boy would keep Ron from blowing up over the whole thing, perhaps there was a chance he could actually explore this attraction he felt towards Hermione.
. . .
Hermione caught herself checking the clock in the Gryffindor common room for the seventh time in ten minutes. It was getting ridiculous. Ever since Harry had implied, or more accurately, flat out said that George might be interested in her, she couldn't seem to concentrate on anything else. Which was completely wreaking havoc with her attempts to finish her Potions assignment. And Potions was not a class where she could make mistakes, not with Snape looking for any possible way to take points away and embarrass her in front of the class.
What a horrible man, she thought. Which lead her to thinking about how supportive and kind George had been that afternoon when she babbled out all of her fears of being less worthy than other witches. It truly was her greatest fear, that someday it would be proven that because she was of Muggle family that she wasn't as good as the everyone else. But George had talked her around and made her see that all of the horrible remarks from the Malfoys and other people were to be ignored. And he'd teased his back into good humour and generally been really sweet for the entire afternoon. And then he'd kissed her. She looked up at the clock for the eighth time. It had been more than two minutes since the last time she'd thought of the kiss. This was definitely an improvement.
Since she wasn't getting any Potions work done, Hermione shoved aside her books and put a scrap piece of parchment on the table in front of her. She picked up her quill and started to make a list, as she always did when there was a tough puzzle to work through. On one side of the paper were the reasons she shouldn't be interested in George: Prankster; Joker; Never takes anything seriously. She thought about that last one, then crossed it out. He'd looked very serious when he had told her to ignore all the horrible people who called her a Mudblood. Next was Quidditch-crazy. Which also got crossed out, since it wasn't fair to use that when her two best friend were also mad about Quidditch. The line that said Ron's Brother stayed, though, and was underlined several times. That could be a real problem, she thought. Depressed by the exercise, she turned the parchment over and started a new list.
His smile; his laugh; great conversation; really understanding; kind; fun to be with; ear-blushing. The last one seemed a little ridiculous, but she didn't want to cross it out. The ear-blushing that looked so silly on Ron was completely appealing on his older brother. Deciding to leave it, she started to add 'smart,' which seemed appropriate. George was smart. He just used it differently from her, with his inventions for the joke shop and quick one-liners. She bent her head over the list to keep writing when a voice made her jump.
"Whatcha writing?" Ron's voice seemed very loud. "Is it Potions? Because I'm completely stuck and could really use some help, Mione."
She pulled her potions book over top of the list.
"Uh, no. Sorry Ron, not Potions, just making up a list of stuff I need my parents to send me from home." She could feel herself blushing at the lie. "But I could try to help you with the homework."
"Great! So I'm completely stuck on the third step..."
Hermione lost track of what Ron was saying. Most of the Quidditch team had just walked into the room, but George wasn't with them. Neither was Harry, she noticed, which made her groan.
"What? Was that the wrong idea. Because it seemed to make sense with the flobberworm pus to counter..."
"No no, Ron, it's fine, I just thought of something uh, I, uh need from home."
Ron looked at her with confusion, but kept on with his potion recipe. Hermione half listened as she thought of ways of killing her best friend. If Harry was talking to George about her, she was going to have to hurt him in ways he couldn't contemplate. He'd have to suffer for days for embarrassing her like that.
"Okay, what's wrong with the idea of the juvenile mandrake root for the fifth problem? It seemed to make lots of sense."
"Huh?" Hermione had no idea what Ron was talking about.
"You glared at me. I thought it was the right idea, you know, to counteract mild paralysis?"
"Uh, sure Ron. I'm sorry, I was thinking of something else. But sounds good, I guess, yeah."
"Mione, you totally aren't paying any attention to me. I'm going to go and see what Seamus and Neville think. Maybe they'll listen to me." Ron picked up his books and stomped off.
"Sure, Ron."
Hermione continued to stare at the door. The next person through was Harry, alone. She let out her breath. It was okay. He'd probably just taken a different route from the rest of the team. It also meant that George would be along at any moment. Hermione started to move her books around, pulling out the list she'd been making and sticking it near the back of her potions textbook. She then pulled out her assignment and stared at it intently. Maybe she'd be able to get somewhere before George arrived.
. . .
She had barely started to figure out what the assignment involved when someone tugged at her hair. She looked up into George's green eyes.
"Hey Mione, studying hard as usual, I see. Whatcha working on?" He sat down on the arm of her chair, leaning down to look at the papers on her lap. "Ah yes, the famous improper petrifacus curse. A good brain-teaser that one."
"You know the answer? I mean, you remember the assignment?" Hermione looked up at him eagerly. "I can't seem to get a handle on it. I mean, there's so many different options, but they all have bad side effects."
"Well, it was years ago that I read this, but as far as I can recall, it's really simple. If you change out the flaxweed in a revivitas elixir for mandrake it should do it." He shrugged. "But you might want to check that. It's been ages."
Hermione was flipping pages and comparing sections of her textbooks. She closed the book, finally, and stared at him. "How on earth did you know that off the top of your head? Did you partially petrify someone recently? I mean, where did that answer come from?"
"So I'm right?" Hermione nodded. "Well, Potions is a breeze. I mean, most of the ingredient interactions are fairly predictable if you look at their base properties. And that one was really simple, just a changing an awakening ingredient for a de-paralyzing one. Stop staring at me like I just invented a self-writing essay."
"Sorry. I'm just amazed that you know so much about potions. It doesn't seem..."
"What, like I pay attention and learn things in school?" He stood up. "Well, actually, I do. I happen to be really good at Potions and Charms and Herbology. How else do you think I can create all those jokes and pranks? It's the other stuff that I don't care about. And just because I don't get as many OWLs or NEWTs as my brilliant brothers doesn't mean I'm an idiot. If you think that, you really don't know much about me at all."
"George, sit down." Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him back onto the arm of the chair. "Look, I don't think you're an idiot. I never did. I just assumed that you didn't really apply yourself in any classes." He glared at her. "That sounded wrong. What I meant was, I didn't know there were subjects that you were such an expert at. I'm just starting to figure out that lots of my assumptions about you were wrong, okay. So don't be mad, please."
He looked down into her pleading eyes. This girl had an amazing knack for getting under his skin. George knew that most people thought he was hopeless at school. It wasn't as though it was common knowledge that he and Fred were top of their classes in a select few subjects. But that Hermione could think he was a complete incompetent at school really bothered him.
"I'm not mad, Hermione," he finally replied. "I should be used to it. Most people think I'm an idiot. I'm just a bit touchy about it sometimes."
"Hey, you have every right to be mad. I should have figured out that you're pretty smart, just by the stuff that you've invented. And I shouldn't have assumed that just because you need help in History of Magic that you need it in the other classes too. I mean, I never really got the hang of Divination."
"Yeah, who does?" George laughed. He put a hand over his eyes and whispered mysteriously "I see... a future where ... stuff happens... to people..."
Hermione started laughing. George kept making vague predictions in a thin wispy voice that was frighteningly similar to Professor Trelawney's. By the time he stopped, the two were leaning against each other and gasping for breath.
"Oh man," Hermione finally managed. "I don't think I've laughed that hard in weeks. Maybe not since Ron tried to bewitch his freckles and ended up with rainbow spots across his face."
"Hey, what's wrong with freckles?" George pretended to take offense
"Nothing at all. But I guess Ron doesn't like his, since he tried to magic them away. That'll be the last time he points his wand at his face, definitely."
"Did you know that you have freckles, Mione?" George's voice had softened, and he was leaning over her.
"Really?" Hermione felt a bit breathless. "Where?"
"Right here," he drew his finger across the bridge of her nose, "in a little line. Like a constellation, or a galaxy."
"You're stargazing on my nose?" she asked, pulling her head away from his hand. He was giving her shivers and she wasn't sure she wanted this to be happening in the common room.
"Of course." George moved back, sensing her change of mood. "If you look closely at Fred's left cheek you can see Leo."
"I'll have to trust you on that one. Or ask Angelina."
"Good plan." He stood up. "Speaking of plans, do we want to study here, or move to the library? I vote library myself, but it's up to you."
"Library sounds great. Let me drop off the stuff I don't need and I'll meet you back here."
"All right. I'll get my books and meet you in ten minutes." He smiled at her and tapped her nose. "Stargirl."
Hermione looked down at her books, and when she got the courage to look up again, George was gone. She stood and started to pick up her things. From across the room, Harry looked up from the chess board and smiled. Things were shaping up quite nicely, he thought to himself.
. . .
Hermione lead George to a quiet corner of the library she had claimed as her own. It was tucked away near the restricted section, under a dusty window. The table under the window was hardly big enough to hold all their books, and its two chairs were both on the same edge, as it was wedged between bookshelves. It was quiet, however, and there was little chance of being disturbed, as few students were interested in the books on Muggle accounting and publications from the Ministry of Magic's department of standards and regulations for imports. As George looked at the material on the shelves around him, he shook his head in wonder.
"I think the only person who could possible care about any of this stuff is my brother Percy. And it might be a little dull even for him."
"Yeah, you could write your name in the dust on most of these books. Which is why I like it here: no interruptions and no one would ever think of looking for me back here."
"Very sensible, Mione. So here we are for some serious uninterrupted school work. Oh joy!" He grimaced.
"Hey, you can't pull that one anymore. Not after you let me in on your scholastic abilities."
"Damn. Knew that would come back to haunt me."
"George, be serious. Look at it this way: the sooner we get through this section, the sooner you can go wreak havoc with Fred and Lee."
"Ah, but I wish to prolong our precious moments together." With one hand on his heart and one stretched towards Hermione, George attempted to look love struck. Since Hermione started giggling before he finished speaking, he gave up.
"Okay," he said. "I'll give serious a try. But be warned, Mione. It does strange things to me."
"I'm trembling in my shoes. Now would you pull out your notes and get to work."
"Slave-driver," he accused.
"Slacker," she shot back.
"Tyrant."
"Goof-off."
"Witch"
"Yeah, and?" She grinned at him, enjoying their play fighting.
"You have the most incredible eyes."
It was out of his mouth before he thought. Hermione stared at him, shocked. Trying to regain ground, George opened his text book and stared at the page intently.
"I didn't mean to say that. It just slipped out. Ignore me, I'm an idiot."
"No, you're not!" It was quiet but forceful.
"Look, Mione, I really shouldn't have said that. I'm here to study, not flirt with you. So can we just get to the studying? I promise not to say anything stupid."
"Okay. Let's study."
George turned his focus to the books before him. He couldn't believe he'd said that. It was true, he thought, but completely inappropriate. Even if Harry was right and Hermione did return his interest, he really should be a little more graceful about the whole thing.
. . .
Hermione kept her eyes on the book in front of her. It was really hard not to glance over at George, but she was afraid that if she met his eyes she'd blush so hard she'd catch fire. He'd said he thought she had incredible eyes, and he'd admired her freckles earlier. Her mind was still lingering on the kiss the previous afternoon. It was a bit overwhelming. She snuck a glance at him as he studied the book before him. His hair was falling over his eyes, and the freckles on his pale skin stood out strongly. He really was good looking, she had to admit. And the more time she spent with him, the more interesting and enjoyable she found his company. This little tutoring assignment had certainly turned into something unexpected.
"So the International Warlock Convention is important?" George looked up and caught Hermione staring at him.
"Huh?"
"This convention thing, it was important, or do I just have to remember the year they started doing it?"
"Um, I think that if you remember the year it was founded that should be fine. I don't think they ever actually accomplished anything."
"Great. That's a relief, though not a surprise." George looked over at Hermione. "So why were you staring at me? Do I have dirt on my face? Or were you trying to find constellations in my freckles?"
"Oh, uh, no dirt. And I didn't notice any constellations, but I haven't looked very hard. Um, just blanked out there for a moment, I guess." It sounded pretty stupid to her, but George seemed to accept it.
"'Kay. Well, let's move on to the next exciting event in this book. Which looks like... What are you doing?"
Hermione had slammed the book in front of her shut. She turned to face George.
"Okay. I'm going to say this really fast so that I don't chicken out and so that if I completely make a fool of myself at least its quick." She took a deep breath. "Harry says he thinks you might like me and I think I might like you and I wanted to know if I was right or if Harry was right and I made a list of why it might be right so you can cut me off at any time now..."
George put a hand over her mouth. When she stopped talking, he took his hand from her mouth and used it to hold her chin.
"Harry's right. And I hope that you're right. And I really hope that you'll let me do this."
He tugged on her chin and moved towards her. When his lips were barely an inch from hers, he whispered "Is this all right?"
Hermione didn't respond, she just closed her eyes. George closed the distance between them and brushed his lips against hers. He felt her hand move to touch his arm and moved his lips again, deepening the kiss a little. When she tilted her head and slid her hand up his arm, he nipped at her lips with his and slid his hand from her chin along her jaw and into her hair. Hermione sighed against his mouth and crowded closer. The kiss continued for what seemed like ages, until a voice on the other side of the shelves startled them into awareness of where they were.
"So I'm hoping that means everyone was right," George said quietly.
Hermione looked up at him, noticing that his breathing seemed to be as fast as hers was, and that there was a flush on his cheeks that matched what she felt like. It was also obvious she'd been running her hands through his hair, as it stood up from his head in places. Reaching out, she smoothed it down.
"Don't want people to think we've been up to something we shouldn't, right Mione?" George moved his head away from her hand.
"Nah, it's just that I think you're cuter when you don't look like a haystack."
"You think I'm cute?" He sounded surprised.
"Fishing for complements, George?" she laughed. "I thought you had enough Quidditch groupies to tell you how good looking you are."
"No," he growled, though amused. "I just didn't know you thought I was cute. I supposed I had managed to attract you with my boyish charm."
She laughed even harder at that.
"Hey," he said, offended, "what's wrong with my boyish charm?"
"Nothing, nothing. It was just a funny remark." She smiled up at him. "You make me laugh so easily. It's really great."
"Now there's a reassuring thing to hear from a girl: 'you make me laugh.'"
"No really, it's good, "she said, trying to reassure him. "I mean it's great, that I can relax and be silly with you. I like it."
He smiled down at her and brushed a lock of hair back behind her ear. Hermione shivered as he slid his finger along the curve of her ear and along her jaw.
"Well, I'm glad that I can help you relax, Mione. It's not good to be tense and serious all the time. Gives you gray hair."
"Hey, I haven't got gray hair!"
"I know, I know, just teasing. C'mon, let's get through this next section and then we can go raid the kitchen again."
"Promise we won't have to run this time? Because I don't know if I can handle the hundred yard dash with all these books."
"No running, I swear," he said. "At this hour Filch is probably too busy dreaming up new detention punishments to bother patrolling the halls." He ran his fingers over her cheek one more time, then turned back to the books on the table. "So these laws on Magical Creatures from 1317, d'you think I'm going have to know them for the exam?"
. . .
Half an hour later, Hermione and George stood in front of the painting that lead to the Gryffindor common room. As they waited for the Fat Lady to return to her frame, George turned to Hermione.
"So, are we going to tell anyone about what's going on? I mean, since we don't really know what's going on. Maybe we shouldn't mention anything yet."
Hermione looked up at him, biting her lip. "That makes sense. Because we haven't actually even gone on a date or anything."
"Well, that's easily fixed." He put down the books he was holding and took her hands in his. "Hermione, would you like to go on a date with me on Friday?"
She paused and stared at her feet. George felt his heart stop. She wasn't going say no, was she? After their chats and that kiss in the library he'd thought she was as interested as he was. He held his breath.
"Well, George," she said finally, "yes. Yes, I'll go on a date with you on Friday. And any other day you want."
George gave a whoop that brought the Fat Lady rushing into the frame.
"Yes dears?" she said breathlessly. "Sorry to keep you waiting. I was just..."
"Don't worry about it, ma'am," George cut in. "I didn't mean to surprise you. It's just that Hermione just agreed to go out with me and I'm a little excited."
"Well, isn't that nice for you," she said. "Do you want to go in, or should I leave you two alone for a bit?"
"Oh no," Hermione said hurriedly. "It's okay. Fizzibub."
"Thank you dear."
The painting swung open, and George and Hermione picked up their things and stepped into the Gryffindor common room. It was mostly empty, but Harry and Ron were sitting at a table working on a class project, and Lee and Fred were on the couch arguing about some arcane Quidditch rule. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that Lavender and Parvati were nowhere to be seen, since they would have made it impossible to break the news in a calm manner.
"So, brother," said Fred, breaking off from his discussion with Lee, "how goes the studying. Any chance you might pass this exam?"
"What, and break his perfect record of being the worst History of Magic student in our class?" Lee questioned. "Hermione's smart, but this is going take more than a few study sessions."
"Well, guys, I'll have you know that Mione's doing a great job, and some of this stuff is actually sticking in my head. I wouldn't be surprised if I do better than the both of you," George shot back. "Unless the exam's entirely about obscure Quidditch practices."
As Lee and the twins sniped at each other, Hermione moved to where Harry and Ron were working. The table they were sitting at was littered with parchments, books and quills. Harry looked up as Hermione pulled a chair close to the table and sat.
"So, Mione, how was the study date?"
Ron snorted from where he was bent over a scroll. Hermione was glad he didn't look up to see the blush she was sure was creeping up her cheeks. Harry certainly did notice the blush and grinned at Hermione.
"Very effective," she said, "if you want to know. I think that George is finally getting the hang of History of Magic."
"That'll be the day," Ron muttered from his pile of papers.
"Ron, it's true. Your brother's smart, and he's making an effort to apply himself. I'm sure he'll end up having no problems at all with the exam."
"S'allright, Mione." Ron raised his head "George doesn't need you defending him. What?" He stared at his friends as they both started laughing.
"Nothing, Ron," Harry gasped. "Just maybe you should go look in a mirror."
It looked as though Ron had dipped his hand in his ink pot at one point, as he had smudgy finger marks on his cheeks, nose and forehead. Hermione couldn't help thinking he looked like one of the blotch and dribble paintings her parents had up in their waiting room, with the blue, black and red ink over his pre-existing freckles.
As Ron ran from the room, with the twins and Lee shouting cosmetic advice at his back, Harry turned to Hermione.
"So, Mione," he asked, "what was that little blush earlier all about? Did you have a nice study date, or what?"
"Well, um.." Hermione looked at her hands, not quite sure what to say. "See, umm... he-kissed-me-and-we're-going-out-on-Friday." It came rushing out as one long word. When Harry didn't say anything, she looked up to see her friend grinning at her.
"That's great, Mione. I'm really glad for you. And, like I said the other day, I totally support you. D'you want me to run interference with Ron for a while. Or are you guys going with the secret romance bit?"
"Uh... I really don't know, Harry. I don't think we're being all secretive. I mean we're supposed to go on a date Friday. So no secrets. But yeah, maybe if you could tell Ron. That would be helpful. Because he's not going to take it well, is he?"
"No, Mione, I'd have to say that Ron isn't going to take it well at all."
. . .
George sat with Lee and Fred, half concentrating on the debate over the validity of teaching the Gryffindor Chasers the Hawkshead Attacking Formation with the other half of his thoughts on Hermione, wondering what she and Harry were giggling about on the other side of the room. He knew better than to be jealous of Potter, who had encouraged the whole Hermione situation in the first place. But he really wanted to go over and make it obvious to everyone in the room that he'd managed to convince the smartest girl in the house to date him.
"George? George?" A hand waved in front of his face.
"Huh? Yeah?" He focused on Lee and Fred, who were smirking at him.
"So, not interested in Hermione, are we?" Fred asked, with sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Perhaps it's Potter who's got you drooling down your robes?"
"What? Yes. Or no. I mean... Okay, don't tell Ron guys, but I, uh, well, I'm going out with Hermione on Friday."
"Yes!" Fred leapt from the couch. "You so owe me 5 sickles."
"I what?" George looked up at his brother.
"Not you, moron," Lee smacked him on the back of the head. "Me, I owe him. I figured it would take you at least another week before you asked her out. Katie said that you were too shy to make your move for at least another three sessions. She's going to owe me for this."
"You guys had bets? And Katie was in on it? Does the whole house know?"
"No, man, just the team." Lee reassured him.
"Oh, and most of the rest of the seventh years." Fred put in. "And I think that Ginny and her friends kinda figured it out. So that means that most of the third and fourth years."
"Arg!" George growled. "It is completely impossible to keep secrets at this school."
"Although there's one thing you don't have to worry about, brother dear."
"What's that, brother dear?"
"At least little Ronnikins lives with his head so high in the clouds, he hasn't figured it out yet. It'll probably take him weeks."
"Oh man..." George groaned, dropping his head into his hands. He'd forgotten about the Ron aspect.
Fred and Lee headed out of the common room to settle their debt and inform their girlfriends of the situation. As they left, Hermione and Harry joined George on the couch.
"George," Hermione said, "Harry may have a bit of a plan for breaking things gently to Ron. D'you want to hear?"
"Not really," he said, not moving his head.
"C'mon, George, buck up," said Harry. "It's not going to be that bad. I just figure we'll go with my original plan. Fix Ron up with someone else, so that he's too busy being all moony to even get mad at you guys. You two just have to be kinda subtle for a little while, until we work it out."
"Harry," George lifted his head to glare at the younger boy. "What we need to do is get you a girlfriend so you'll stop playing matchmaker."
"Either that or we need to fix him up with Parvati, so they can work together," Hermione put in with a grin.
"Euyugh!" George exclaimed, laughing. "It would be cruel to unleash that on the world."
"I'd get offended, but I really don't care." Harry grinned at his friends. "But I'm serious about this Ron thing. I think it's pretty much the only way to get him over watching Hermione date. Remember the Krum thing last year - he did not deal well."
"Okay, Harry, we're in on the plan," agreed Hermione. "So I suppose the question now is, who?"
"Well, that one I'm not so sure about," admitted Harry. "Why don't I quiz Ron tonight and maybe you can ask the girls if anyone's interested. I'm sure we'll come up with some candidate."
George shivered. "Sounds awfully cold-blooded. I'm glad you let Hermione and I stumble into this all on our own. Poor Ron."
Harry smiled as he stood. "Yeah well, sometimes the clueless have to be helped along. Even you two needed a little nudge. G'night guys."
He headed for the stairs, leaving George and Hermione alone.
There was an awkward moment, then George slung his arm around Hermione's shoulders and pulled her closer to his side. He smiled down at her and used his free hand to tilt up her chin.
"So, Mione," he asked quietly. "Regrets yet? Gonna back out now that the whole world has decided to run our relationship for us?"
"No." She shook her head slightly. "No, definitely not. If anything, this convinced me that I'm for sure interested in dating you. If I'm willing to meddle with Ron's love-life to keep my own the way I want it, I must be serious." She smiled up at George.
"Good to hear."
He leaned down slowly and kissed the tip of her nose. Hermione's eyes, which had closed expecting his kiss, flew open. She looked at him, puzzled.
"Well, those freckles have been calling out for a kiss since I first saw them," he said, pretending to be defensive. She snorted softly, making him grin. "Ah, Mione, such a little lady. Good thing I'm not interested in your manners."
"Shut up, Weasley," she growled softly. "Kiss me, already."
"Demanding, demanding..."
Hermione leaned forward and cut him off with a kiss. George's eyes closed with the surprise and he turned his focus to kissing her, gently, carefully. He tangled one hand in her hair, as the other stroked the side of her neck. Hermione's hands slipped up his chest and into his hair, pulling him closer to her. George's eyes snapped open again when he felt Hermione's tongue flick against his lips. She must have felt his response, since she pulled back slightly and wouldn't meet his eyes.
"Sorry," she said quietly. "I didn't mean to be pushy, just..."
"No, no, "he soothed her. "I was just surprised. I guess I didn't think that you'd kissed before."
"Was I doing it wrong?"
"No, not at all. I guess I just have to stop underestimating you. Although I'm thinking you didn't learn that from a book," he teased.
Hermione blushed. "No. There was a boy, last summer. I grew up with him. We figured that since neither of us had ever been kissed, maybe we should try it. So we knew what to do. It was just a stupid thing, not like I liked him or anything. And we only did it the one time, so..."
He laid a finger across her lips.
"You don't have to explain, Hermione. I really don't care. As long as when you're with me, you only kiss me, I'm not really picky about who else you've kissed. Well, maybe if you'd been making out with Malfoy..."
"Euch!" she giggled. "You and Harry have the sickest minds. Malfoy, fah!"
"See, made you laugh."
She smiled and curled up against his shoulder.
"Yes, you did. It's kinda amazing how you can do that. I guess I'll have to keep you around so you can tease me out of my moods on bad days, huh?"
"I hope I'll be around on more than just your bad days, Mione."
"I hope so too."
She tucked her head in the crook of his neck and he leaned his cheek against her hair; they sat in comfortable silence, watching the fire. When Harry crept down later to retrieve one of his books, he found the couple still curled up against each other, sleeping soundly. He smiled to himself and snuck away.