Disclaimer: Oh, if I owned the marvelous Harry, I know my life would be
far more merry, I'd have lots and lots more money, life would be milk and
honey, alas, the copyright - I do not carry!
And here we are again, dear readers, you and I. I know, I know, this chapter, though, has some action. It's a party, how could it not? Anyway. Thanks, as always, to Alison for her marvelous Alisonness both in this chapter and on my screen. Thanks to Caitlin, for letting me borrow her, not that she's not getting anything out of the deal (a reminder - she's Sneezy Mouse here in the twin/Hermione section, so go read). And, more importantly, thank *you*, dear readers, for prodding me along and leaving those awesome reviews and generally being incredibly cool. Honestly, I adore hearing what you think, good or bad. I'm writing this for you guys. Thanks, last of all, to the Sanrio Corporation, who makes the nifty Hello Kitty phone I have.
Thanks, more importantly, for being so patient. I love you, each and every one. Yay story!
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"this is no declaration, I just thought I'd let you know"
-belle and sebastian, "get me away from here I'm dying"
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Fred Weasley was feeling good. He had Apparated away from Puddlemere Square (who would've guessed that little ol' Hermione would be living in the restricted neighborhoods?) and back to Diagon Alley, where he had left George tending the store. He was even whistling as he walked into the store. Greeting Ron, he walked. . .no, Fred was swaggering today. He swaggered back to the office and opened the door, finding his prey within. Walking over to George's desk, he perched on the corner of the desk and brought his whistling up to a high crescendo that was sure to stop his twin from whatever he was doing. Sure enough, George dropped the toy he had been fiddling with. When the smoke cleared and they both stopped chortling, Fred finally said something.
"Cor, George, what was that?"
George looked at his brother as he wiped the red streaks off of his face. "New release from Zonko's. I bought it off of one of the kiddies who were coming in to pick up their stuff for the upcoming jail sentence. I also may have let it slip that Professor Snape loves a good joke to break the ice." The last part was said in a mockery of an earnest, helpful tone.
Fred looked briefly admiring. "First years?" At George's nod, he continued. "Good to know. It warms my heart to know that the greasy git won't be forgetting us anytime soon. Bet the kid comes back over Christmas and buys "presents" for his parents."
"Nice to know that we're staying in the hearts and minds of Hogwarts' teachers." George smirked over at Fred, who was reflecting the exact same facial expression.
"Speaking of hearts and minds, I heard that Hermione might be stopping for a sip or two tonight." Fred's smirk seemed to be the only one carrying on as George got a puzzled look on his face.
"Hermione? Hermione Granger? Is coming to our party?" George sat back for a moment, thinking of the last party that they'd had. The Ministry had the most difficult time cleaning up after the washing machine they had enchanted to act as a bubble machine. . . "Blimey. How'd that happen?"
Fred looked smug and thought that a little white lie never hurt anyone. "I owled her today about it."
"You owled her about it? And she agreed to come?" George looked disbelieving at the idea.
"She did. With a few friends." Fred, if possible, grew even smugger as he watched the expressions flitting across his brother's face, before George settled into slight nervousness. Fancy that, Fred mused. His sibling seemed to have a little bit of something for the bookish lass that they had known for nine years now. Funny, neither one of them knew her very well, but she'd been around that long. However, if things went well, one of them would be getting to know her very well. Fred smiled at the thought of his girl-shy twin and the mysterious Hermione getting together. After all, he'd heard some interesting things about what the Head Girl had gotten up to in that office she'd shared with Malfoy the Git. No one was sure if they were rumors or not, but they were certainly interesting things to consider. Of course, Fred had his own interesting things to consider right now. Like his brother, who was looking decidedly tetchy.
"Friends? Who is Hermione friends with that we know?"
"She lives in Caitlin and Alison's building. The middle flat, the one that was empty for three bloody months. Wouldn't be surprised if they hadn't been holding it for her, our brilliant Miss Granger." Fred sauntered over to his desk before continuing. "Even though Olly Olly can't make it, the divine Caitlin is coming, as well as Alison and Eric."
"Oh."
"Oh, indeed, twin mine, is that all you've got?" Fred looked at a clock and then at George's red face. "Shouldn't you be getting ready?"
"Well. . . ye. . .no, of course not. Why would I need to do that?" George was clearly on the defensive here.
"Just a thought. You wouldn't want to look to mussed when the love of your life shows, would you?" And with that, Fred slid off of his brother's desk and strolled over to his own, deftly avoiding the casual hex that was sent his way. Observing carefully, he saw his brother consider the prospect.
"There's lots of stuff to be done here, Gred." George tapped the diagram he had been drawing with his quill. "I can't really pop out like that."
Fred nodded at that and looked down to his own papers. Surprisingly, he and his brother were very serious about the business. That didn't mean he couldn't fabricate some reason to send his reluctantly pursuing brother home a little early to "get the flat ready". He smirked a bit, imagining that much the same scene was playing out in Puddlemere.
No one ever realized it, but Fred Weasley was hardly ever wrong, in his own shrewd manner. And so Hermione sat, surrounded by the willowy girl from earlier and another girl that had been introduced as Alison. She had a more generous figure, with blonde hair and honey colored eyes that held the same twinkle as Caitlin's. Surprisingly, she was also American. While Hermione admitted that it was a good idea to put the two foreigners in the same building to adjust, she wasn't sure why she had the flat in between them. And, unfortunately, they were certainly presenting a united front right now. Alison was just as adamant as Caitlin that Hermione simply wasn't dressed for the occasion. Looking down at her jeans and tank top, she disagreed. It was just a casual sort of party, not an event. Sure, the Boy Who Lived and assorted hangers-on would be there, but she'd spent six years ducking the sense of happening that surrounded him and the last refusing to give advice on how to gain entrance to that silly circle of acquaintances that he always had around him.
"Now, Hermione, you know that lots of people are going to be here. One person in particular. . .one red-headed person in particular." Hermione's head snapped up and she sent her best McGonagall glare at Caitlin, who was perched on one end of her couch, barely concealing her glee.
"You were in on this," Hermione fumed at the girl, "you were in on this from the start, weren't you? Let's set poor old Hermione up with George Weasley. Hermione's too busy, Hermione's *trying to do her job*, Hermione should, instead of making a good impression tomorrow, get tipsy and snog George Weasley instead. You and Fred." Hermione stood up and began walking to the door of her flat, intending to wave the two of them out when Alison reached out and held her arm for a moment.
"Fred mentioned that you'd known his family for a while. He also mentioned that you were best friends with Harry Potter. He didn't give an specifics, but he did say that George has been out of sorts since some incident last week and that it'd be nice of you to make an appearance to get things sorted out."
Hermione, who had angrily crossed to a chair and sat down during Alison's statement, actually crossed her arms and scowled, something she hadn't done for a few years, at least. "I said I'd go and I will. I just don't think that it really requires me to tart myself up for a bunch of people who I either don't know at all or have known for years and years. They don't care or they know me - there's no point."
Alison and Caitlin exchanged almost amused looks over the head of the sullen girl in between them. They'd heard that she was a brilliant little thing, but looking at her now, it was hard to believe. She looked like a four year old who had been told that she couldn't play with Mummy's tea set. Suddenly, as Hermione shifted uncomfortably, realizing that she must look a bit more petulant and a lot less adult than she would've liked, her face suddenly smoothed. This was an opportunity to make new friends. Besides, she'd never really had female friends. Lavender and Parvati had shared her dorm room with her, but little else. She had moved to a new city and started a new life, why not make some new friends? If they wanted to let her borrow a skirt or two, why should she refuse? Besides, she hadn't dressed up properly for years, with the exception of a few events choreographed by either her parents or the Ministry. She uncrossed her arms and sighed, drawing the attention of the two girls in her living room back to her face.
"Fine, fine." Hermione said, appearing to take the high road. "I'll do it. It's only for an hour and, besides," she looked up shyly, "I've never actually dressed up for a party that I was going to semi-willingly, at least, it's always been some event."
"Well, then," Alison said, crossing the room to Hermione, "I think we could come up with something. You're pretty, Hermione. All those curls and that English skin. . ." She trailed off as she started looking at Hermione in a well-meaning critical fashion.
Caitlin chimed in with an agreeing nod. "You'll look darling."
"No, she won't. Twelve year olds look 'darling'. And Hermione certainly isn't twelve." Alison murmured as she reached out to put a red-tipped hand on Caitlin's arm and pull her over to a loveseat Hermione had tucked in the corner of the living room.
And with that, the two American witches leaned their heads together and started whispering most disconcertingly. Hermione considered trying to discern a word or two, but when she attempted they were all things like "lipstick" or "boots". It suddenly occurred to her that she might not really have anything appropriate for the evening's festivities. She briefly considered actually stepping out to get something before she realized that she didn't know what to get and that the two women currently occupying her sunlit corner of the living room probably had very specific plans for her attire tonight. She was soon to find out, it appeared, as Caitlin and Alison shared a very satisfied nod and came out of their tête-à- tête, Caitlin started walking towards the back of Hermione's flat and Alison furrowing her brow as she looked at Hermione's hair.
"This may be a little hard to tackle, but we'll see what we can do. Caitlin's going to go find something for you to wear or something we can transfigure." Alison paused and looked around the apartment. "Actually, we may have you do the actual transfiguration, you seem to be pretty good at it. Hopefully it won't come to that. . ."
She trailed off as Caitlin came in brandishing a few of the casual Muggle sundresses that Hermione favored for summer. Laying them on the couch, the two girls started to debate the various merits of both of them. Hermione couldn't honestly tell the difference between them, since most of them shared the similar pattern of the simple sundress. There were different colors and a few different lengths and a few with a layer of gauzy stuff, but she'd never paid attention to all that, she'd just worn them for comfort. And looking at the tribunal her clothes were being subjected to, she had a feeling that she should've paid more attention to Lav and Pav's rantings on the weekends. She was just starting to get impatient when the girls chose one of the dresses, a butter yellow one that reached her toes and was suspended from two very thin straps, flowers where they met the bodice and a layer of pale yellow filmy material reaching to the bottom of the dress as its only decoration.
"Now, we'll have to adjust it for mobility," Caitlin punctuated this with a quick version of the severing charm that left a slit to mid-thigh in Hermione's formerly modest sundress, "but other than that, this is perfect."
Alison seconded that thought. "It is. Modest, but enough to show that marvelous body you appear to have."
"Umm." It was all Hermione could do to utter that syllable, what with the destruction of her dress and the casual appraisal of her form. "Umm. Thank you. I suppose. I mean. . .isn't that slit a little high?"
"Of course not, doll. You're a big girl and I think you can totally pull this off." Alison said as she pursed her lips. "Now don't move."
Within twenty minutes, Hermione had been persuaded into the dress and her hair was pulled into a high ponytail and a light layer of lip gloss, mascara and sheer sparkle had been added to her face. Hermione had to admit that she didn't really object to what had been done. They hadn't tried to tame her hair into submission and the sparkling powder they'd put on her wasn't even noticeable, unlike some of the obnoxious glitter Lavender had been fond of. She also appreciated the surprisingly Muggle fashion with which they had gone about the whole thing. She'd have to enquire about their families at some point. Best of all, this had taken such a little amount of time, honestly, most of the twenty minutes was occupied with trying to reach a compromise between the ribbons Hermione favored and the plain band Caitlin had wanted to use. The middle ground seemed to be a band with a sparkling bit of fuzz attached to it, which Hermione had also liked.
The girls stood back with a visible air of pride. It was Caitlin who spoke first. "Hermione, you're something else. I can't believe it. You don't need any of the things we put on you, seriously. Must be something in the water around here."
Hermione immediately began to protest. "No, really, I don't look like this all the time. In fact, I'm really not pretty at all, I'm hardly even attractive."
Alison snorted loudly as she pulled Hermione towards the bathroom, where she pushed her in front of a full-length mirror. Hermione was forced to look. She never really thought about her appearance, at all, honestly, so it never occurred to her that she might actually just be attractive. They stood there for a moment while she pondered the thought. The vivacious American witch and the brainy Brit both stared at the latter's reflection for a moment before Alison spoke.
"Seriously, girl. Stop this modest act. Look at you. You're all willowy and you have those big brown eyes. Sure, your hair is probably terrifying when you wake up in the morning, but I'm almost positive anyone that you would be waking up with would not notice. I don't know how you got the idea otherwise, but it's time for you to realize you're a gorgeous woman." Here she smiled, meeting Hermione's eyes in the mirror. "I actually feel a bit silly telling you all this. You're probably just fishing for compliments."
Hermione held Alison's eyes in the mirror. "Well. No. It's just that. . .I haven't had much time to be a girl. I don't have much time for all this, to be honest with you. In fact," she looked at the clock she had placed on the wall, "I have to go to the party soon and then I have to leave early. I have an important function to go to tomorrow."
"More important than yourself? You need this. You've just moved out of home and you are an adult. It's true that I may have heard here and there that you're a little more than your average 18 year old girl, but you *are* an 18 year old girl. Tonight, you should enjoy that. But for now, Caitlin and I need to get ready. We'll be down in half an hour or so and we can all leave together." And with a final bright smile, Alison slid around Hermione to the living room, where both witches left the flat.
Hermione, for her part, simply looked in the mirror. She couldn't believe the discussions she'd had with these two girls. Certainly, by Monday she'd be back to sticking quills in her hair to keep it up, but maybe they were right. She was a girl, as her friends had belatedly noticed. And, a sly little voice in the back of her mind added, George would be there. Maybe this would be a chance for her to see if maybe she couldn't start a normal relationship. Sure, it'd be tough for her to work on her research and see someone, but why not? Why shouldn't she? Realizing that she was still in front of the mirror, she looked closely at herself. She had turned out fairly attractive. Her hair was still the same bushy mass it had been before, but it was a pretty color. Her face wasn't bad, she had a lovely bone structure, so her mother said. Her nose wasn't big and Malfoy had taken care of her teeth for her. Her eyes were a nice light brown color. And hadn't she sat in her yard and said that she was going to get on with her life? Smiling happily at the thought of just going and being a normal 18 year old for an hour, she went into the living room to read and wait for her new friends.
It shouldn't be a surprise that she was reading a brochure that her new employers had sent her about the company. She spent a happy half hour learning about the history and current status of her new employer when she heard a knock on the door. Wondering why they hadn't Flooed in before she remembered that Floo use was limited to voice and sight only in this neighborhood unless she initiated any physical use, she stood up to open the door. There were Caitlin and Alison and a man that she didn't recognize, but who had an arm around Alison's waist in a rather possessive fashion. She didn't have to wait long to find out who he was, because Alison quickly made the introduction.
"Hermione, this is Eric. Isn't he a darling?" Alison smiled up at him and he smiled at her indulgently before extending a hand to Hermione.
"Pleasure to meet you." He had a British accent, which almost surprised Hermione. She returned the pleasantry as she stepped outside her door, warded it and turned to her companions.
"Ready to go then, Hermione? Oliver decided to stay in since he has to go to that thing you're going to and he's getting paid. He's actually really strict about what he does on a 'work night'." Caitlin rolled her eyes.
Hermione bit her bottom lip in response, a gesture that she'd kept from her childhood years. "I really should be doing the same thing. I have to make a good impression." For a moment, she looked back at her door. "Well, I'll make sure I come home early, right? Right."
"Oh, nonsense," Caitlin started, "I'm going and I'll be having a grand old time."
Hermione stopped short. "Oh, you'll be there? Oh, of course, you're Oliver's date."
And the foursome began walking off to the Apparation point, just a short distance away, amidst chatter of Hermione's decision to attend the banquet tomorrow alone. They were running a bit late, but it was a party and no one was expected to be on time, Caitlin pointed out. She would've been very surprised had she been aware of the scene that was quickly developing at Fred and George's. There were already about fifty various friends and family members over at the house the two of them were renting in one of the little corners of Diagon Alley. Hermione would've recognized many of them, as they were former classmates of hers. In fact, Fred and George were having a whispered consultation about one of the guests, Fred, Ron and Harry already having been warned off of this particular wizard.
George was, as usual, being the level head. "Fred. Ginny's a smart girl, she knows what she's doing. Besides, Malfoy's a git, but he's observant. He'll get tired of being glared at soon, and he'll leave. Simple."
"I don't know why," Fred scowled towards where Ginny, Malfoy's arm around her waist, was having a conversation with Seamus Finnigan, "she brought that bloody arsehole to our house. He's making it dirty. People will leave."
"Gred. Relax. No one's going to leave except him. Trust me, brother mine, he'll bugger off after being given the cold shoulder long enough. Besides, Harry and Susan are here. Malfoy won't try anything with Harry around."
Fred looked around quickly, noticing that the group that was supposed to have Hermione in it had arrived. He made eye contact with Caitlin and was just beginning to ask in complicated gestures where Hermione was when Caitlin pointed a finger. Looking in the direction she indicated, Fred was shocked to see that Hermione was smiling largely at Ginny and Malfoy and seemed to be taking her arms from around Malfoy's shoulders. He exhaled sharply and nudged his twin in the side.
"Did. . .did our Hermione just hug Malfoy?"
George rolled his eyes at his brother. "She's not our. . .wait, she hugged Malfoy? Well, they did work together for a year." He blinked abruptly, swiveling in the direction he had last seen his sister and the ferret. "I didn't know she was here. I'll be right back."
He ignored the knowing wink his distracted brother gave him and started walking in that general direction, hoping to get a word in with her, maybe distract her from the warm discussion she seemed to be having with Ginny, Seamus and Malfoy. Seamus looked a little uncomfortable with Malfoy and the two of them seemed to be sizing each other up. George briefly wondered where Dean was before continuing to observe the situation. Malfoy, for his part, seemed to be conversing in a civil fashion. While George was definitely going to have a few words with his sister, at least the daftie she had brought seemed to be behaving himself. Finally reaching the group, he slid an arm around Hermione's waist.
"Well, if it isn't the illustrious Miss Granger." He smiled down at the considerably shorter girl, who seemed to be turning an attractive shade of pink. "See, I somehow knew pink would look lovely on you."
"C'mon, now, George, leave the girl alone." His sister smiled up at him as Malfoy seemed to press his lips together in an exercise of restraint. "Is Fred still spitting tacks?"
"Ginny, we'll discuss that later." George carefully schooled his expression to one that wouldn't offend anyone present. "As for me leaving the lovely 'Mione alone, I have no intentions to do so. You three haven't even gotten her a drink." Clucking his tongue, he led Hermione away as she shrugged and waved at her three friends.
Turning back to the man who was firmly clasping her elbow, she smiled up at him. "You certainly handled that well."
He grinned cheekily back at her before lowering his head a bit to respond better to her. "Last time we had a party with this many people, there was a spot of trouble and the Ministry ended up popping in. Mum was so upset she sent a howler and Dad let her. If I showed that I wasn't happy with Malfoy being here, someone might think it's okay to have a scrap with the ferret and we may get into something worse than a spot."
Hermione scowled briefly at the ferret reference, before realizing they'd reached the table that had been set up for beverages. "Nothing too strong, George, I have to be alert tomorrow. And Draco really isn't that bad, you know, since he's lost his paternal influence."
Handing a glass of wine to Hermione, George smiled at her once again before leading her out a door and into the crowded backyard, where he transfigured an empty plastic cup into a bench.
Hermione's eye only widened slightly, but her voice conveyed how surprised she was. "That was impressive, George. I had no idea you were so accomplished at transfiguration."
"I may have picked up a few things here or there." He shrugged off her compliment. "Besides, we spent so much time with McGonagall in detention that she gave us some extra lessons."
Hermione gave a low laugh that startled George into taking a second look at her. She was momentarily distracted by something that was going on across the yard and he had a chance to take a long glance at her. She was wearing another one of those strappy little dresses that he had a feeling Caitlin had gotten to, if the almost indecent slit on the side was any indication. Merlin, it should be illegal for witches to have legs like that, he thought to himself. Her hair was wild and only pulled back into a ponytail, unlike some girls who had teased their hair into absurd styles, and he wasn't sure she was wearing makeup. On closer examination, she appeared to have something that just left a little shine on her cheeks. Raising his eyes to determine if she had any of that absurd eye makeup that his sister wore on, he met a very amused set of honey brown eyes.
Hermione had covertly watched George make his observations and had taken the moment to make some of her own. She briefly remembered thinking about another male body earlier in the summer and thought that she had been silly. Harry was a boy in comparison to George's developed physique. He had the same Quidditch muscles, only his were more developed because of his time as a Beater, which was far more physical than Harry's position. It would appear, too, that he had continued to keep in trim after leaving Hogwarts. George was taller than Harry, too, Hermione thought, before giving herself a slight mental shake. She couldn't compare everyone to Harry, even if, surprisingly, they did come out favorably. She smiled a bit, inwardly, applauding her courage. She'd never "checked out" a boy before, as she'd heard Ginny say. Continuing her observation, her eyes wandered over the same red hair that the rest of the Weasleys shared and the same blue eyes, only his seemed. . .brighter, both parts. His hair was more vibrantly reddish-orange, as opposed to his siblings, their colors ranging from Ginny's dark red hair to Percy's almost strawberry blonde colored hair. His eyes were such a brilliant blue they almost took her breath away, whereas Ron's had stayed the same watery color they had been since she'd known him.
Looking back to those beautiful eyes, she realized they were slowly moving up towards her face. Should she look away or pretend she'd been waiting for him to make eye contact the whole time? She wasn't quite sure which action would be best. The schoolgirl Hermione would've looked away and blushed as opposed to coolly meeting his eyes and that solved it, she thought to herself, and schooled her features into amusement. Besides, she reasoned, it *was* amusing. He'd been giving her a very distinct once- over, thinking she was oblivious. And if was one thing she was, it was observant. She still wasn't sure why he was so interested, but years spent watching everyone around her had taught her to pay attention to people. He should've known better, she thought dizzily as his eyes met hers and reflected some of her laughter, albeit a bit bashful.
"Caught, eh, Hermione?" He smiled that good-natured smile again and she had to look away. She'd been seeing it for seven years now and, for some reason, it'd chosen tonight to start inexplicably rendering her slightly dry in the throat. She'd read about this. Her body was reacting to him. Why it was doing so, she wasn't sure. This was George Weasley, one half of the Terrible Two, Ron's older brother. On the other hand, it was also George Weasley, not only an attractive wizard but, apparently, a surprisingly adult one. Who was currently flirting with her.
She took a sip of her wine before looking back at him. "Indeed, George," she said, shifting so she was facing him, as opposed to just sitting beside him, her knees bumping his, "it would appear you have been."
"I can't help it. This," he gestured at her, "is not the 'Mione Granger, Super Studier, that I knew. I mean, let's face it. When I met you, you were a skinny little thing, all elbows and big brown eyes and hair. Lots of hair." He began laughing and Hermione looked at him askance before joining in.
"I still have lots of hair," she reached up and pulled a strand over her shoulder, "and I'm still all elbows. And I still read all the time. I never want to stop learning. You're the one who's changed. You and Fred used to be such terrors."
"Fred still is a terror." George pulled a face as he thought of all the harassment he'd been receiving at the hands of his closest sibling.
He didn't know that Hermione was thinking of her visit earlier. "Mmm. That he is. He's so. . .meddling. I swear, he's like a little old lady."
George chimed in. "Meddling? That's something of a new one. I will say that his timing is terrible."
Hermione was just opening her mouth to speak when a voice behind them started to first.
"Brother mine, I'm none of the above. My timing, as you can see, is spot on. And what are you doing, keeping this charming young lady away from the party?" Fred jumped over the back of the bench, neatly separating Hermione and George with a hip. "Her friends are all inside, in awe of the Weasley twins for pulling Ms. Granger away from her books for something so silly as a party, and want visible proof of her attendance."
The charming young lady in question raised an eyebrow in a skeptical manner. "Oh? Such as? Last I checked, they were all in the process of getting Gryffindor drunk and figuring out how to pound Malfoy."
"Ah, yes," Fred sighed, "Gryffindor drunk. Let it never be said us Gryffindors don't do things right! Speaking of, Hermy-own-ninny, your glass is empty. Thought we'd charmed those. And, George, shame on you." Waving a wand and tsking at his brother, Fred refilled Hermione's glass for her.
"Thank you, Fred, but I really shouldn't."
"Yes, yes, we know. Important things for our girl tomorrow."
George decided to intervene at this stage of the game and snorted at his brother's penchant for troublemaking. "She does have to meet with the people who are employing her." Turning to Hermione, he asked her directly. "Is your place as spiffing as Ali and Caitlin's?"
Fred chucked and clapped him on the back before Hermione had a chance to reply. "Oliver said something about needing escorts for tomorrow, so you can look after Hermy at this to do and then see her place afterwards."
Hermione and George both spoke at the same time, hoping to avoid the awkward situation that was developing.
"Oh, I don't really think I *need* to take someone, the invitation just said that I could. . ."
"Fred, you git, I have to work on that thing we got from Zonko's earlier, plus we're going to have to. . ."
". . .but it's not required. Besides, I mean, I do need to settle in and all, plus it's a trial getting in and out of my neighborhood and. . ."
". . .finish those blueprints at some point and you know Mum'll have a fit if I'm not home for dinner. Percy's bring what's her name home for and you know how. . ."
They were both interrupted by Fred throwing a firework into the air where it prettily lit up their hair and stopped them all, for a moment, from speaking. Hermione, as it always seemed to be, was the first to recover.
"Fred! What on earth are you doing? What was the meaning of that?"
"I just wanted to say. . .I think you're complaining a little too much, hiding stuff. Who was that Muggle who said something about that? Shakerspeen?"
"Shakespeare, Gred." Turning to Hermione, who was looking very surprised, George explained further. "My Mum loves some of his plays. She used to read them to us when we were younger."
"Either way," Fred interrupted, "you two should go to this thing together." He paused, noticing that neither was budging and decided to try a different approach. "Although, if you can't make it, George, I'm sure that Harry or Ron would be happy to go. It'd be a reunion, I know the three of you haven't seen much of each other."
George looked from his brother, who had just started clapping like a demented mermaid who'd just spotted a pink shell, to Hermione, who had gone very pale under what summer tan she had picked up. He remembered, once again, that his brother was the sneakiest, most conniving person he'd ever known and that it was far better to be with him than against him. Not that he was objecting to escorting Hermione Granger anywhere, especially not the one he'd seen here and there the last few weeks. He had rather been hoping that he wouldn't have to resort to this, though. Oh, well. He'd have to play along and then give her a chance to get out of it.
"You're absolutely right, Fred." Turning to Hermione, he continued on. "What do you say, 'Mione? Shall I take you to this horribly stiff and formal gathering? Who knows, maybe I can make it a bit more interesting for you." And he threw a wink at her, hoping that his brother, who had turned to see her reaction didn't notice.
For her part, Hermione had been a little surprised when George caved in to his brother's insistence. He'd switched over from the regular guy that he had been to something entirely different, something she remembered seeing earlier in their acquaintance and taking points from. It was true that she could bring a guest and she was just starting to think that maybe she should take George. He was a safe date, unlike Fred's two other suggestions. She didn't trust herself with them, to be quiet honest. Then she'd seen George's wink. Ah, she thought to herself, the game is afoot.*
"Well," she said, faking hesitance, "Fred, I think that I shouldn't have to take a guest, they're not insisting on it. I'd like to focus on meeting the people I'll be working with and the board of directors. On the other hand, there's no harm in it and I can make myself appear unavailable to everyone else there, at least in that fashion." She wrinkled her nose prettily like she'd seen Ginny do to emphasize her distaste at being seen by her coworkers in a romantic way and then suddenly turned to George. "I suppose, if I must, it might as well be you."
Fred, not realizing that his tables were being turned, looked delighted. "Wonderful, wonderful," he babbled, clapping his brother on the shoulder, "you kids'll have a great time. I trust the two of you to make the arrangements. Just one thing."
Fred waved his wand at the two of them. "Adiuro!*" Both Hermione and George were bathed in a serene golden light. A few seconds later, the light dissipated, leaving a smirking Fred, an angry Hermione and a frustrated George.
"Ah-ha! I thought so. You wouldn't be so angry, Hermy, if you weren't intending to do a bunk!"
"Fred, that's a serious wizarding contract you've just bound us to! I wasn't agreeing to that! I wasn't agreeing to anything like that. And I can't remove it, so you'll have to."
"Hermy, you know that I can't remove it either." Fred sighed dramatically and then brightened. "Besides, took me ages to learn that, thought you'd be proud if I showed it off." Fred gave her a cheeky wink and Hermione seemed to hesitate.
"Why do you use that one? The only one without a counter," she sighed, "the only one that isn't really illegal when used in this irresponsible fashion. Though you could find yourself in all sorts of other trouble should you use it on the wrong person."
George cleared his throat and looked meaningfully at his brother. "You and I will discuss this later."
"Just doing you a favor, Forge, just doing you a favor." George's face darkened at his brother's potentially revealing remark and he looked about to respond when Hermione quietly cleared her throat.
"George, don't, it's fine. Besides, the bugger got us good, didn't he?" She sat back and smirked a bit at their surprise. She knew when a fight was over and had bigger things to worry about. Such as the fact that she actually didn't mind being tricked into taking George. Maybe she'd even let herself get into this situation. "Besides, the banquet won't be long. I apologize, but I really must go. As wonderful as this all is," she mock- glared at the quarrelling brothers, "I have to get some sleep. Five o'clock, George, and you can ask your brother, the one right here, for directions. Wear dress robes. Please. No jokes tomorrow, okay? Good night, boys." She gave a kind look in George's direction, indicating that she didn't mean the part about the jokes quite so personally and saw him shooting a curious glance at Fred.
If the look on Fred's face was any indication, he hadn't mentioned his little visit to George. Interesting, she thought to herself. That should be fun. For a moment, she almost wished she could stick around to see it. She stood up and had taken a few steps when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning around, she looked up at George's apologetic face.
"I'm sorry, Hermione, I had no idea he would pull something shoddy like that. You really don't mind, do you? And I want you to know that I would never ever do anything to risk your job."
"George, it's only a banquet. Official function. I have to make an appearance. Besides, it's very impersonal, these things. Meet and greet, a chance to mingle for a few seconds with everyone." She rolled her eyes, expressing her displeasure at the whole thing. "Unfortunately, these people are paying me a lot to research for them. I have to be there, and there can't be any trouble associated with me. Besides," she brightened for a moment, letting the girl George recognized out in place of this scary, *wise* Hermione he'd seen tonight, "there's going to be lots of other researchers there who have done so much interesting work! I have lots of theories that I'd like to discuss with my fellow researchers."
"Well," George started, looking doubtful, "as long as you don't mind. . ."
"No, it's fine. There's really no other choice and I suspect we'll muddle through." She gave him another smile, this one a bit shy, and turned and started to walk towards the back door. "I have to go, George, I'm sorry. I need to say goodbye to some people."
He smiled wanly at her retreating back. She just kept slipping away like this, but at least she'd stopped at the sound of his voice. "Harry's upstairs, if you'd like the tip. One more thing?"
Hermione turned again at the question implicit in his last sentence. "Yes?"
"What'd you mean back there, about asking Fred where you lived?"
She grimaced before rolling her eyes once again. "Your brother picks the most inopportune times to stop in. Just ask him about it."
She turned to walk away again and, as he was turning to go confront his brother, it was he who felt the hand. She touched him lightly on his shoulder blade and he turned.
"Thanks, George."
And she hugged him, quickly, surprisingly. Before he had a chance to respond, she was gone, weaving through the crowds of people to leave.
Well, he thought as he moved to ask his brother exactly what he meant by stopping by Hermione's earlier, that was interesting. He tried to ignore the tingle in his stomach. She'd only hugged him, not given him a good snogging, and it wouldn't do to be bloody warm and fuzzy when he was about to go have a pop at his brother.
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I know, crummy ending. But it's interaction and the promise of more fun stuff ahead! Yay! Next chapter, the banquet and maybe Hermione will end up showing George her apartment, eh? Let me know if there's anything weird about this chapter and remember - slow and steady wins the race.
"the game is afoot" Sherlock Holmes used to say this all the time, indicating that there was some mystery, a bit of subterfuge going down.
"adiuro" Latin, to promise an oath.
And here we are again, dear readers, you and I. I know, I know, this chapter, though, has some action. It's a party, how could it not? Anyway. Thanks, as always, to Alison for her marvelous Alisonness both in this chapter and on my screen. Thanks to Caitlin, for letting me borrow her, not that she's not getting anything out of the deal (a reminder - she's Sneezy Mouse here in the twin/Hermione section, so go read). And, more importantly, thank *you*, dear readers, for prodding me along and leaving those awesome reviews and generally being incredibly cool. Honestly, I adore hearing what you think, good or bad. I'm writing this for you guys. Thanks, last of all, to the Sanrio Corporation, who makes the nifty Hello Kitty phone I have.
Thanks, more importantly, for being so patient. I love you, each and every one. Yay story!
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"this is no declaration, I just thought I'd let you know"
-belle and sebastian, "get me away from here I'm dying"
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Fred Weasley was feeling good. He had Apparated away from Puddlemere Square (who would've guessed that little ol' Hermione would be living in the restricted neighborhoods?) and back to Diagon Alley, where he had left George tending the store. He was even whistling as he walked into the store. Greeting Ron, he walked. . .no, Fred was swaggering today. He swaggered back to the office and opened the door, finding his prey within. Walking over to George's desk, he perched on the corner of the desk and brought his whistling up to a high crescendo that was sure to stop his twin from whatever he was doing. Sure enough, George dropped the toy he had been fiddling with. When the smoke cleared and they both stopped chortling, Fred finally said something.
"Cor, George, what was that?"
George looked at his brother as he wiped the red streaks off of his face. "New release from Zonko's. I bought it off of one of the kiddies who were coming in to pick up their stuff for the upcoming jail sentence. I also may have let it slip that Professor Snape loves a good joke to break the ice." The last part was said in a mockery of an earnest, helpful tone.
Fred looked briefly admiring. "First years?" At George's nod, he continued. "Good to know. It warms my heart to know that the greasy git won't be forgetting us anytime soon. Bet the kid comes back over Christmas and buys "presents" for his parents."
"Nice to know that we're staying in the hearts and minds of Hogwarts' teachers." George smirked over at Fred, who was reflecting the exact same facial expression.
"Speaking of hearts and minds, I heard that Hermione might be stopping for a sip or two tonight." Fred's smirk seemed to be the only one carrying on as George got a puzzled look on his face.
"Hermione? Hermione Granger? Is coming to our party?" George sat back for a moment, thinking of the last party that they'd had. The Ministry had the most difficult time cleaning up after the washing machine they had enchanted to act as a bubble machine. . . "Blimey. How'd that happen?"
Fred looked smug and thought that a little white lie never hurt anyone. "I owled her today about it."
"You owled her about it? And she agreed to come?" George looked disbelieving at the idea.
"She did. With a few friends." Fred, if possible, grew even smugger as he watched the expressions flitting across his brother's face, before George settled into slight nervousness. Fancy that, Fred mused. His sibling seemed to have a little bit of something for the bookish lass that they had known for nine years now. Funny, neither one of them knew her very well, but she'd been around that long. However, if things went well, one of them would be getting to know her very well. Fred smiled at the thought of his girl-shy twin and the mysterious Hermione getting together. After all, he'd heard some interesting things about what the Head Girl had gotten up to in that office she'd shared with Malfoy the Git. No one was sure if they were rumors or not, but they were certainly interesting things to consider. Of course, Fred had his own interesting things to consider right now. Like his brother, who was looking decidedly tetchy.
"Friends? Who is Hermione friends with that we know?"
"She lives in Caitlin and Alison's building. The middle flat, the one that was empty for three bloody months. Wouldn't be surprised if they hadn't been holding it for her, our brilliant Miss Granger." Fred sauntered over to his desk before continuing. "Even though Olly Olly can't make it, the divine Caitlin is coming, as well as Alison and Eric."
"Oh."
"Oh, indeed, twin mine, is that all you've got?" Fred looked at a clock and then at George's red face. "Shouldn't you be getting ready?"
"Well. . . ye. . .no, of course not. Why would I need to do that?" George was clearly on the defensive here.
"Just a thought. You wouldn't want to look to mussed when the love of your life shows, would you?" And with that, Fred slid off of his brother's desk and strolled over to his own, deftly avoiding the casual hex that was sent his way. Observing carefully, he saw his brother consider the prospect.
"There's lots of stuff to be done here, Gred." George tapped the diagram he had been drawing with his quill. "I can't really pop out like that."
Fred nodded at that and looked down to his own papers. Surprisingly, he and his brother were very serious about the business. That didn't mean he couldn't fabricate some reason to send his reluctantly pursuing brother home a little early to "get the flat ready". He smirked a bit, imagining that much the same scene was playing out in Puddlemere.
No one ever realized it, but Fred Weasley was hardly ever wrong, in his own shrewd manner. And so Hermione sat, surrounded by the willowy girl from earlier and another girl that had been introduced as Alison. She had a more generous figure, with blonde hair and honey colored eyes that held the same twinkle as Caitlin's. Surprisingly, she was also American. While Hermione admitted that it was a good idea to put the two foreigners in the same building to adjust, she wasn't sure why she had the flat in between them. And, unfortunately, they were certainly presenting a united front right now. Alison was just as adamant as Caitlin that Hermione simply wasn't dressed for the occasion. Looking down at her jeans and tank top, she disagreed. It was just a casual sort of party, not an event. Sure, the Boy Who Lived and assorted hangers-on would be there, but she'd spent six years ducking the sense of happening that surrounded him and the last refusing to give advice on how to gain entrance to that silly circle of acquaintances that he always had around him.
"Now, Hermione, you know that lots of people are going to be here. One person in particular. . .one red-headed person in particular." Hermione's head snapped up and she sent her best McGonagall glare at Caitlin, who was perched on one end of her couch, barely concealing her glee.
"You were in on this," Hermione fumed at the girl, "you were in on this from the start, weren't you? Let's set poor old Hermione up with George Weasley. Hermione's too busy, Hermione's *trying to do her job*, Hermione should, instead of making a good impression tomorrow, get tipsy and snog George Weasley instead. You and Fred." Hermione stood up and began walking to the door of her flat, intending to wave the two of them out when Alison reached out and held her arm for a moment.
"Fred mentioned that you'd known his family for a while. He also mentioned that you were best friends with Harry Potter. He didn't give an specifics, but he did say that George has been out of sorts since some incident last week and that it'd be nice of you to make an appearance to get things sorted out."
Hermione, who had angrily crossed to a chair and sat down during Alison's statement, actually crossed her arms and scowled, something she hadn't done for a few years, at least. "I said I'd go and I will. I just don't think that it really requires me to tart myself up for a bunch of people who I either don't know at all or have known for years and years. They don't care or they know me - there's no point."
Alison and Caitlin exchanged almost amused looks over the head of the sullen girl in between them. They'd heard that she was a brilliant little thing, but looking at her now, it was hard to believe. She looked like a four year old who had been told that she couldn't play with Mummy's tea set. Suddenly, as Hermione shifted uncomfortably, realizing that she must look a bit more petulant and a lot less adult than she would've liked, her face suddenly smoothed. This was an opportunity to make new friends. Besides, she'd never really had female friends. Lavender and Parvati had shared her dorm room with her, but little else. She had moved to a new city and started a new life, why not make some new friends? If they wanted to let her borrow a skirt or two, why should she refuse? Besides, she hadn't dressed up properly for years, with the exception of a few events choreographed by either her parents or the Ministry. She uncrossed her arms and sighed, drawing the attention of the two girls in her living room back to her face.
"Fine, fine." Hermione said, appearing to take the high road. "I'll do it. It's only for an hour and, besides," she looked up shyly, "I've never actually dressed up for a party that I was going to semi-willingly, at least, it's always been some event."
"Well, then," Alison said, crossing the room to Hermione, "I think we could come up with something. You're pretty, Hermione. All those curls and that English skin. . ." She trailed off as she started looking at Hermione in a well-meaning critical fashion.
Caitlin chimed in with an agreeing nod. "You'll look darling."
"No, she won't. Twelve year olds look 'darling'. And Hermione certainly isn't twelve." Alison murmured as she reached out to put a red-tipped hand on Caitlin's arm and pull her over to a loveseat Hermione had tucked in the corner of the living room.
And with that, the two American witches leaned their heads together and started whispering most disconcertingly. Hermione considered trying to discern a word or two, but when she attempted they were all things like "lipstick" or "boots". It suddenly occurred to her that she might not really have anything appropriate for the evening's festivities. She briefly considered actually stepping out to get something before she realized that she didn't know what to get and that the two women currently occupying her sunlit corner of the living room probably had very specific plans for her attire tonight. She was soon to find out, it appeared, as Caitlin and Alison shared a very satisfied nod and came out of their tête-à- tête, Caitlin started walking towards the back of Hermione's flat and Alison furrowing her brow as she looked at Hermione's hair.
"This may be a little hard to tackle, but we'll see what we can do. Caitlin's going to go find something for you to wear or something we can transfigure." Alison paused and looked around the apartment. "Actually, we may have you do the actual transfiguration, you seem to be pretty good at it. Hopefully it won't come to that. . ."
She trailed off as Caitlin came in brandishing a few of the casual Muggle sundresses that Hermione favored for summer. Laying them on the couch, the two girls started to debate the various merits of both of them. Hermione couldn't honestly tell the difference between them, since most of them shared the similar pattern of the simple sundress. There were different colors and a few different lengths and a few with a layer of gauzy stuff, but she'd never paid attention to all that, she'd just worn them for comfort. And looking at the tribunal her clothes were being subjected to, she had a feeling that she should've paid more attention to Lav and Pav's rantings on the weekends. She was just starting to get impatient when the girls chose one of the dresses, a butter yellow one that reached her toes and was suspended from two very thin straps, flowers where they met the bodice and a layer of pale yellow filmy material reaching to the bottom of the dress as its only decoration.
"Now, we'll have to adjust it for mobility," Caitlin punctuated this with a quick version of the severing charm that left a slit to mid-thigh in Hermione's formerly modest sundress, "but other than that, this is perfect."
Alison seconded that thought. "It is. Modest, but enough to show that marvelous body you appear to have."
"Umm." It was all Hermione could do to utter that syllable, what with the destruction of her dress and the casual appraisal of her form. "Umm. Thank you. I suppose. I mean. . .isn't that slit a little high?"
"Of course not, doll. You're a big girl and I think you can totally pull this off." Alison said as she pursed her lips. "Now don't move."
Within twenty minutes, Hermione had been persuaded into the dress and her hair was pulled into a high ponytail and a light layer of lip gloss, mascara and sheer sparkle had been added to her face. Hermione had to admit that she didn't really object to what had been done. They hadn't tried to tame her hair into submission and the sparkling powder they'd put on her wasn't even noticeable, unlike some of the obnoxious glitter Lavender had been fond of. She also appreciated the surprisingly Muggle fashion with which they had gone about the whole thing. She'd have to enquire about their families at some point. Best of all, this had taken such a little amount of time, honestly, most of the twenty minutes was occupied with trying to reach a compromise between the ribbons Hermione favored and the plain band Caitlin had wanted to use. The middle ground seemed to be a band with a sparkling bit of fuzz attached to it, which Hermione had also liked.
The girls stood back with a visible air of pride. It was Caitlin who spoke first. "Hermione, you're something else. I can't believe it. You don't need any of the things we put on you, seriously. Must be something in the water around here."
Hermione immediately began to protest. "No, really, I don't look like this all the time. In fact, I'm really not pretty at all, I'm hardly even attractive."
Alison snorted loudly as she pulled Hermione towards the bathroom, where she pushed her in front of a full-length mirror. Hermione was forced to look. She never really thought about her appearance, at all, honestly, so it never occurred to her that she might actually just be attractive. They stood there for a moment while she pondered the thought. The vivacious American witch and the brainy Brit both stared at the latter's reflection for a moment before Alison spoke.
"Seriously, girl. Stop this modest act. Look at you. You're all willowy and you have those big brown eyes. Sure, your hair is probably terrifying when you wake up in the morning, but I'm almost positive anyone that you would be waking up with would not notice. I don't know how you got the idea otherwise, but it's time for you to realize you're a gorgeous woman." Here she smiled, meeting Hermione's eyes in the mirror. "I actually feel a bit silly telling you all this. You're probably just fishing for compliments."
Hermione held Alison's eyes in the mirror. "Well. No. It's just that. . .I haven't had much time to be a girl. I don't have much time for all this, to be honest with you. In fact," she looked at the clock she had placed on the wall, "I have to go to the party soon and then I have to leave early. I have an important function to go to tomorrow."
"More important than yourself? You need this. You've just moved out of home and you are an adult. It's true that I may have heard here and there that you're a little more than your average 18 year old girl, but you *are* an 18 year old girl. Tonight, you should enjoy that. But for now, Caitlin and I need to get ready. We'll be down in half an hour or so and we can all leave together." And with a final bright smile, Alison slid around Hermione to the living room, where both witches left the flat.
Hermione, for her part, simply looked in the mirror. She couldn't believe the discussions she'd had with these two girls. Certainly, by Monday she'd be back to sticking quills in her hair to keep it up, but maybe they were right. She was a girl, as her friends had belatedly noticed. And, a sly little voice in the back of her mind added, George would be there. Maybe this would be a chance for her to see if maybe she couldn't start a normal relationship. Sure, it'd be tough for her to work on her research and see someone, but why not? Why shouldn't she? Realizing that she was still in front of the mirror, she looked closely at herself. She had turned out fairly attractive. Her hair was still the same bushy mass it had been before, but it was a pretty color. Her face wasn't bad, she had a lovely bone structure, so her mother said. Her nose wasn't big and Malfoy had taken care of her teeth for her. Her eyes were a nice light brown color. And hadn't she sat in her yard and said that she was going to get on with her life? Smiling happily at the thought of just going and being a normal 18 year old for an hour, she went into the living room to read and wait for her new friends.
It shouldn't be a surprise that she was reading a brochure that her new employers had sent her about the company. She spent a happy half hour learning about the history and current status of her new employer when she heard a knock on the door. Wondering why they hadn't Flooed in before she remembered that Floo use was limited to voice and sight only in this neighborhood unless she initiated any physical use, she stood up to open the door. There were Caitlin and Alison and a man that she didn't recognize, but who had an arm around Alison's waist in a rather possessive fashion. She didn't have to wait long to find out who he was, because Alison quickly made the introduction.
"Hermione, this is Eric. Isn't he a darling?" Alison smiled up at him and he smiled at her indulgently before extending a hand to Hermione.
"Pleasure to meet you." He had a British accent, which almost surprised Hermione. She returned the pleasantry as she stepped outside her door, warded it and turned to her companions.
"Ready to go then, Hermione? Oliver decided to stay in since he has to go to that thing you're going to and he's getting paid. He's actually really strict about what he does on a 'work night'." Caitlin rolled her eyes.
Hermione bit her bottom lip in response, a gesture that she'd kept from her childhood years. "I really should be doing the same thing. I have to make a good impression." For a moment, she looked back at her door. "Well, I'll make sure I come home early, right? Right."
"Oh, nonsense," Caitlin started, "I'm going and I'll be having a grand old time."
Hermione stopped short. "Oh, you'll be there? Oh, of course, you're Oliver's date."
And the foursome began walking off to the Apparation point, just a short distance away, amidst chatter of Hermione's decision to attend the banquet tomorrow alone. They were running a bit late, but it was a party and no one was expected to be on time, Caitlin pointed out. She would've been very surprised had she been aware of the scene that was quickly developing at Fred and George's. There were already about fifty various friends and family members over at the house the two of them were renting in one of the little corners of Diagon Alley. Hermione would've recognized many of them, as they were former classmates of hers. In fact, Fred and George were having a whispered consultation about one of the guests, Fred, Ron and Harry already having been warned off of this particular wizard.
George was, as usual, being the level head. "Fred. Ginny's a smart girl, she knows what she's doing. Besides, Malfoy's a git, but he's observant. He'll get tired of being glared at soon, and he'll leave. Simple."
"I don't know why," Fred scowled towards where Ginny, Malfoy's arm around her waist, was having a conversation with Seamus Finnigan, "she brought that bloody arsehole to our house. He's making it dirty. People will leave."
"Gred. Relax. No one's going to leave except him. Trust me, brother mine, he'll bugger off after being given the cold shoulder long enough. Besides, Harry and Susan are here. Malfoy won't try anything with Harry around."
Fred looked around quickly, noticing that the group that was supposed to have Hermione in it had arrived. He made eye contact with Caitlin and was just beginning to ask in complicated gestures where Hermione was when Caitlin pointed a finger. Looking in the direction she indicated, Fred was shocked to see that Hermione was smiling largely at Ginny and Malfoy and seemed to be taking her arms from around Malfoy's shoulders. He exhaled sharply and nudged his twin in the side.
"Did. . .did our Hermione just hug Malfoy?"
George rolled his eyes at his brother. "She's not our. . .wait, she hugged Malfoy? Well, they did work together for a year." He blinked abruptly, swiveling in the direction he had last seen his sister and the ferret. "I didn't know she was here. I'll be right back."
He ignored the knowing wink his distracted brother gave him and started walking in that general direction, hoping to get a word in with her, maybe distract her from the warm discussion she seemed to be having with Ginny, Seamus and Malfoy. Seamus looked a little uncomfortable with Malfoy and the two of them seemed to be sizing each other up. George briefly wondered where Dean was before continuing to observe the situation. Malfoy, for his part, seemed to be conversing in a civil fashion. While George was definitely going to have a few words with his sister, at least the daftie she had brought seemed to be behaving himself. Finally reaching the group, he slid an arm around Hermione's waist.
"Well, if it isn't the illustrious Miss Granger." He smiled down at the considerably shorter girl, who seemed to be turning an attractive shade of pink. "See, I somehow knew pink would look lovely on you."
"C'mon, now, George, leave the girl alone." His sister smiled up at him as Malfoy seemed to press his lips together in an exercise of restraint. "Is Fred still spitting tacks?"
"Ginny, we'll discuss that later." George carefully schooled his expression to one that wouldn't offend anyone present. "As for me leaving the lovely 'Mione alone, I have no intentions to do so. You three haven't even gotten her a drink." Clucking his tongue, he led Hermione away as she shrugged and waved at her three friends.
Turning back to the man who was firmly clasping her elbow, she smiled up at him. "You certainly handled that well."
He grinned cheekily back at her before lowering his head a bit to respond better to her. "Last time we had a party with this many people, there was a spot of trouble and the Ministry ended up popping in. Mum was so upset she sent a howler and Dad let her. If I showed that I wasn't happy with Malfoy being here, someone might think it's okay to have a scrap with the ferret and we may get into something worse than a spot."
Hermione scowled briefly at the ferret reference, before realizing they'd reached the table that had been set up for beverages. "Nothing too strong, George, I have to be alert tomorrow. And Draco really isn't that bad, you know, since he's lost his paternal influence."
Handing a glass of wine to Hermione, George smiled at her once again before leading her out a door and into the crowded backyard, where he transfigured an empty plastic cup into a bench.
Hermione's eye only widened slightly, but her voice conveyed how surprised she was. "That was impressive, George. I had no idea you were so accomplished at transfiguration."
"I may have picked up a few things here or there." He shrugged off her compliment. "Besides, we spent so much time with McGonagall in detention that she gave us some extra lessons."
Hermione gave a low laugh that startled George into taking a second look at her. She was momentarily distracted by something that was going on across the yard and he had a chance to take a long glance at her. She was wearing another one of those strappy little dresses that he had a feeling Caitlin had gotten to, if the almost indecent slit on the side was any indication. Merlin, it should be illegal for witches to have legs like that, he thought to himself. Her hair was wild and only pulled back into a ponytail, unlike some girls who had teased their hair into absurd styles, and he wasn't sure she was wearing makeup. On closer examination, she appeared to have something that just left a little shine on her cheeks. Raising his eyes to determine if she had any of that absurd eye makeup that his sister wore on, he met a very amused set of honey brown eyes.
Hermione had covertly watched George make his observations and had taken the moment to make some of her own. She briefly remembered thinking about another male body earlier in the summer and thought that she had been silly. Harry was a boy in comparison to George's developed physique. He had the same Quidditch muscles, only his were more developed because of his time as a Beater, which was far more physical than Harry's position. It would appear, too, that he had continued to keep in trim after leaving Hogwarts. George was taller than Harry, too, Hermione thought, before giving herself a slight mental shake. She couldn't compare everyone to Harry, even if, surprisingly, they did come out favorably. She smiled a bit, inwardly, applauding her courage. She'd never "checked out" a boy before, as she'd heard Ginny say. Continuing her observation, her eyes wandered over the same red hair that the rest of the Weasleys shared and the same blue eyes, only his seemed. . .brighter, both parts. His hair was more vibrantly reddish-orange, as opposed to his siblings, their colors ranging from Ginny's dark red hair to Percy's almost strawberry blonde colored hair. His eyes were such a brilliant blue they almost took her breath away, whereas Ron's had stayed the same watery color they had been since she'd known him.
Looking back to those beautiful eyes, she realized they were slowly moving up towards her face. Should she look away or pretend she'd been waiting for him to make eye contact the whole time? She wasn't quite sure which action would be best. The schoolgirl Hermione would've looked away and blushed as opposed to coolly meeting his eyes and that solved it, she thought to herself, and schooled her features into amusement. Besides, she reasoned, it *was* amusing. He'd been giving her a very distinct once- over, thinking she was oblivious. And if was one thing she was, it was observant. She still wasn't sure why he was so interested, but years spent watching everyone around her had taught her to pay attention to people. He should've known better, she thought dizzily as his eyes met hers and reflected some of her laughter, albeit a bit bashful.
"Caught, eh, Hermione?" He smiled that good-natured smile again and she had to look away. She'd been seeing it for seven years now and, for some reason, it'd chosen tonight to start inexplicably rendering her slightly dry in the throat. She'd read about this. Her body was reacting to him. Why it was doing so, she wasn't sure. This was George Weasley, one half of the Terrible Two, Ron's older brother. On the other hand, it was also George Weasley, not only an attractive wizard but, apparently, a surprisingly adult one. Who was currently flirting with her.
She took a sip of her wine before looking back at him. "Indeed, George," she said, shifting so she was facing him, as opposed to just sitting beside him, her knees bumping his, "it would appear you have been."
"I can't help it. This," he gestured at her, "is not the 'Mione Granger, Super Studier, that I knew. I mean, let's face it. When I met you, you were a skinny little thing, all elbows and big brown eyes and hair. Lots of hair." He began laughing and Hermione looked at him askance before joining in.
"I still have lots of hair," she reached up and pulled a strand over her shoulder, "and I'm still all elbows. And I still read all the time. I never want to stop learning. You're the one who's changed. You and Fred used to be such terrors."
"Fred still is a terror." George pulled a face as he thought of all the harassment he'd been receiving at the hands of his closest sibling.
He didn't know that Hermione was thinking of her visit earlier. "Mmm. That he is. He's so. . .meddling. I swear, he's like a little old lady."
George chimed in. "Meddling? That's something of a new one. I will say that his timing is terrible."
Hermione was just opening her mouth to speak when a voice behind them started to first.
"Brother mine, I'm none of the above. My timing, as you can see, is spot on. And what are you doing, keeping this charming young lady away from the party?" Fred jumped over the back of the bench, neatly separating Hermione and George with a hip. "Her friends are all inside, in awe of the Weasley twins for pulling Ms. Granger away from her books for something so silly as a party, and want visible proof of her attendance."
The charming young lady in question raised an eyebrow in a skeptical manner. "Oh? Such as? Last I checked, they were all in the process of getting Gryffindor drunk and figuring out how to pound Malfoy."
"Ah, yes," Fred sighed, "Gryffindor drunk. Let it never be said us Gryffindors don't do things right! Speaking of, Hermy-own-ninny, your glass is empty. Thought we'd charmed those. And, George, shame on you." Waving a wand and tsking at his brother, Fred refilled Hermione's glass for her.
"Thank you, Fred, but I really shouldn't."
"Yes, yes, we know. Important things for our girl tomorrow."
George decided to intervene at this stage of the game and snorted at his brother's penchant for troublemaking. "She does have to meet with the people who are employing her." Turning to Hermione, he asked her directly. "Is your place as spiffing as Ali and Caitlin's?"
Fred chucked and clapped him on the back before Hermione had a chance to reply. "Oliver said something about needing escorts for tomorrow, so you can look after Hermy at this to do and then see her place afterwards."
Hermione and George both spoke at the same time, hoping to avoid the awkward situation that was developing.
"Oh, I don't really think I *need* to take someone, the invitation just said that I could. . ."
"Fred, you git, I have to work on that thing we got from Zonko's earlier, plus we're going to have to. . ."
". . .but it's not required. Besides, I mean, I do need to settle in and all, plus it's a trial getting in and out of my neighborhood and. . ."
". . .finish those blueprints at some point and you know Mum'll have a fit if I'm not home for dinner. Percy's bring what's her name home for and you know how. . ."
They were both interrupted by Fred throwing a firework into the air where it prettily lit up their hair and stopped them all, for a moment, from speaking. Hermione, as it always seemed to be, was the first to recover.
"Fred! What on earth are you doing? What was the meaning of that?"
"I just wanted to say. . .I think you're complaining a little too much, hiding stuff. Who was that Muggle who said something about that? Shakerspeen?"
"Shakespeare, Gred." Turning to Hermione, who was looking very surprised, George explained further. "My Mum loves some of his plays. She used to read them to us when we were younger."
"Either way," Fred interrupted, "you two should go to this thing together." He paused, noticing that neither was budging and decided to try a different approach. "Although, if you can't make it, George, I'm sure that Harry or Ron would be happy to go. It'd be a reunion, I know the three of you haven't seen much of each other."
George looked from his brother, who had just started clapping like a demented mermaid who'd just spotted a pink shell, to Hermione, who had gone very pale under what summer tan she had picked up. He remembered, once again, that his brother was the sneakiest, most conniving person he'd ever known and that it was far better to be with him than against him. Not that he was objecting to escorting Hermione Granger anywhere, especially not the one he'd seen here and there the last few weeks. He had rather been hoping that he wouldn't have to resort to this, though. Oh, well. He'd have to play along and then give her a chance to get out of it.
"You're absolutely right, Fred." Turning to Hermione, he continued on. "What do you say, 'Mione? Shall I take you to this horribly stiff and formal gathering? Who knows, maybe I can make it a bit more interesting for you." And he threw a wink at her, hoping that his brother, who had turned to see her reaction didn't notice.
For her part, Hermione had been a little surprised when George caved in to his brother's insistence. He'd switched over from the regular guy that he had been to something entirely different, something she remembered seeing earlier in their acquaintance and taking points from. It was true that she could bring a guest and she was just starting to think that maybe she should take George. He was a safe date, unlike Fred's two other suggestions. She didn't trust herself with them, to be quiet honest. Then she'd seen George's wink. Ah, she thought to herself, the game is afoot.*
"Well," she said, faking hesitance, "Fred, I think that I shouldn't have to take a guest, they're not insisting on it. I'd like to focus on meeting the people I'll be working with and the board of directors. On the other hand, there's no harm in it and I can make myself appear unavailable to everyone else there, at least in that fashion." She wrinkled her nose prettily like she'd seen Ginny do to emphasize her distaste at being seen by her coworkers in a romantic way and then suddenly turned to George. "I suppose, if I must, it might as well be you."
Fred, not realizing that his tables were being turned, looked delighted. "Wonderful, wonderful," he babbled, clapping his brother on the shoulder, "you kids'll have a great time. I trust the two of you to make the arrangements. Just one thing."
Fred waved his wand at the two of them. "Adiuro!*" Both Hermione and George were bathed in a serene golden light. A few seconds later, the light dissipated, leaving a smirking Fred, an angry Hermione and a frustrated George.
"Ah-ha! I thought so. You wouldn't be so angry, Hermy, if you weren't intending to do a bunk!"
"Fred, that's a serious wizarding contract you've just bound us to! I wasn't agreeing to that! I wasn't agreeing to anything like that. And I can't remove it, so you'll have to."
"Hermy, you know that I can't remove it either." Fred sighed dramatically and then brightened. "Besides, took me ages to learn that, thought you'd be proud if I showed it off." Fred gave her a cheeky wink and Hermione seemed to hesitate.
"Why do you use that one? The only one without a counter," she sighed, "the only one that isn't really illegal when used in this irresponsible fashion. Though you could find yourself in all sorts of other trouble should you use it on the wrong person."
George cleared his throat and looked meaningfully at his brother. "You and I will discuss this later."
"Just doing you a favor, Forge, just doing you a favor." George's face darkened at his brother's potentially revealing remark and he looked about to respond when Hermione quietly cleared her throat.
"George, don't, it's fine. Besides, the bugger got us good, didn't he?" She sat back and smirked a bit at their surprise. She knew when a fight was over and had bigger things to worry about. Such as the fact that she actually didn't mind being tricked into taking George. Maybe she'd even let herself get into this situation. "Besides, the banquet won't be long. I apologize, but I really must go. As wonderful as this all is," she mock- glared at the quarrelling brothers, "I have to get some sleep. Five o'clock, George, and you can ask your brother, the one right here, for directions. Wear dress robes. Please. No jokes tomorrow, okay? Good night, boys." She gave a kind look in George's direction, indicating that she didn't mean the part about the jokes quite so personally and saw him shooting a curious glance at Fred.
If the look on Fred's face was any indication, he hadn't mentioned his little visit to George. Interesting, she thought to herself. That should be fun. For a moment, she almost wished she could stick around to see it. She stood up and had taken a few steps when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning around, she looked up at George's apologetic face.
"I'm sorry, Hermione, I had no idea he would pull something shoddy like that. You really don't mind, do you? And I want you to know that I would never ever do anything to risk your job."
"George, it's only a banquet. Official function. I have to make an appearance. Besides, it's very impersonal, these things. Meet and greet, a chance to mingle for a few seconds with everyone." She rolled her eyes, expressing her displeasure at the whole thing. "Unfortunately, these people are paying me a lot to research for them. I have to be there, and there can't be any trouble associated with me. Besides," she brightened for a moment, letting the girl George recognized out in place of this scary, *wise* Hermione he'd seen tonight, "there's going to be lots of other researchers there who have done so much interesting work! I have lots of theories that I'd like to discuss with my fellow researchers."
"Well," George started, looking doubtful, "as long as you don't mind. . ."
"No, it's fine. There's really no other choice and I suspect we'll muddle through." She gave him another smile, this one a bit shy, and turned and started to walk towards the back door. "I have to go, George, I'm sorry. I need to say goodbye to some people."
He smiled wanly at her retreating back. She just kept slipping away like this, but at least she'd stopped at the sound of his voice. "Harry's upstairs, if you'd like the tip. One more thing?"
Hermione turned again at the question implicit in his last sentence. "Yes?"
"What'd you mean back there, about asking Fred where you lived?"
She grimaced before rolling her eyes once again. "Your brother picks the most inopportune times to stop in. Just ask him about it."
She turned to walk away again and, as he was turning to go confront his brother, it was he who felt the hand. She touched him lightly on his shoulder blade and he turned.
"Thanks, George."
And she hugged him, quickly, surprisingly. Before he had a chance to respond, she was gone, weaving through the crowds of people to leave.
Well, he thought as he moved to ask his brother exactly what he meant by stopping by Hermione's earlier, that was interesting. He tried to ignore the tingle in his stomach. She'd only hugged him, not given him a good snogging, and it wouldn't do to be bloody warm and fuzzy when he was about to go have a pop at his brother.
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I know, crummy ending. But it's interaction and the promise of more fun stuff ahead! Yay! Next chapter, the banquet and maybe Hermione will end up showing George her apartment, eh? Let me know if there's anything weird about this chapter and remember - slow and steady wins the race.
"the game is afoot" Sherlock Holmes used to say this all the time, indicating that there was some mystery, a bit of subterfuge going down.
"adiuro" Latin, to promise an oath.