When We Try To Deceive...

Chapter Seven: A Helping Hand

Author's Note:  Yes, this is set in the Dream team's fifth year; which is why the Weasley twins are still here.  A big, big, VERY big thank you to all of my reviewers: Raigeki, lanna1186, Sheep, Gnat Girl (sign in already!!), michele, simone/misty, Twinkey, Demus (x 6), FawkesRises (x 2) and Topaz Waters (Yeah I know... I kinda hated myself for doing it... but it worked though!  Anyway... no more silly review threats... meep).

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A tall, vivid-haired fifth former ran through the corridors.  This was not going well.  He'd only wanted to cast that stupid spell as a joke, and now Fred had gone all googly-eyed and Hermione... well, Hermione had actually fallen for him.  Which was pretty bizarre as she'd told him on numerous occasions while staying at the Burrow he had appalling manners, was rude to his brother, did nothing to help his mother etc etc.  While she was staying at his home!  Bloody cheek.  She'd also said he was always causing trouble and one day he'd end up hurting someone... ya.

Anyway, that was why he needed to find her.  To get her to sort this mess out.  And also to ask her which colour robes made him appear more handsome.  Because George was having a bit of a crisis.  Black made him look sophisticated and smooth, but somehow he felt himself being drawn towards emerald green...  Hermione was bound to tell him.  Being in love with him and that.  Just thinking about it made George laugh, which would have been fine if he hadn't been running at the same time.  As a result he got a rather irksome stitch in his left side and had to rest a minute.  If asked why he was running, George probably wouldn't be able to answer.  It just seemed to fit the moment.  Although George knew perfectly well that their lesson didn't finish for another five minutes, so- Harry.  Harry was walking down the corridor.  Huh.  Wasn't he supposed to be in class?

"Looking for Hermione?" Harry snorted as he marched past.  George hesitated a moment before changing direction and falling into step with Harry.

"Um... yeah."

"Well I think it's pretty clear she doesn't want to speak to you.  And thanks to your little outburst, she told the entire Potions class I... uh... she told them everything!"  George stopped for a minute, puzzled.  Then he gathered what was going on.

"George.  I'm George.  See me, standing here, in all my Georgeness?  Just because I have an identical twin doesn't give you all the right to get us confused!  I am so obviously George!  I mean, Fred has one less freckle.  Plus I have more muscle definition.  Not that you'd be looking at that.  Hermione- I mean.  Uh... do you think black or emerald is the way to go?  Although I must admit now I think about it, scarlet seems like a good alternative.  Maybe I should-"

"Shut up!  What's wrong with everyone today?" Harry called from 10 metres he had gone down the corridor while George had been talking.  Before George had time to react, and catch up with Harry, he felt a sudden force at the back of his neck that knocked him to the floor.  He managed to stop his face from hitting the ground by shoving his hands in front of him in an automatic response, but this caused him to go over on his wrist and thump his forehead.  George swore under his breath.

Turning himself over, he looked up to find his brother glaring down at him, his fists still clenched.  Even though George's head was now severely thumping and brain damage was threatening imminently; he was pretty sure he'd done nothing to Ron recently that deserved such an outburst.

"What the hell do you think you're playing at?" Ron demanded.  George stared up at him.  He couldn't believe Ron would ask him what he thought he was doing, when Ron was the one that could have just mortally wounded him.  "First of all, you know how I feel about Hermione, and I can't believe you would do something like that.  Secondly, you burst in in the middle of my..." Ron trailed off and looked down at George, who was still on the floor in a state of bewilderment, and gave him a sheepish look.  "You're not Fred are you?"

George rolled his eyes and tugged heartily on Ron's hand when he helped him up.  He didn't even need to ask what Fred had done; he just couldn't believe he'd be stupid enough to tell everyone about him and Hermione...

"Where is she?" George demanded.  Ron just pointed down the corridor, the way he had come.  George raised an eyebrow.  "You're not playing Follow the Leader or anything, are you?"  Ron looked confused as George mentally congratulated himself on his sharp wit, before heading in the direction Ron had signalled.

On a whim, George turned round and shouted one last thing at his brother.

"Just a thought- do you think scarlet or emerald is the way to go?"

Ron ignored him and carried on walking, trying to catch up with Harry without looking like he was chasing him.

George turned round and spotted Hermione walking towards him.  She saw him, and slowed down before coming to a halt about 10 metres away.

"In case you're wondering, I'm-"

"George... I know," muttered Hermione miserably.  "It was one mistake, ok?  I was upset, and not thinking, and I wish everybody could just forget about it."

George had a thought.  He could make this all go away.  He could!  He could cast another spell, so the past day would just be forgotten!  The past few days would probably be better, as he'd got a terrible grade for his last Charms assessment.  But he could solve this whole mess!  He didn't even need Hermione's help.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at George, and turned her head to the side slightly, as if to examine him carefully.  George noted the way she chewed her lip when she was thinking.  It was kind of cute.  In a completely non-sexual way.  There was no way he was going to complicate this whole thing any more by getting involved with anyone.

"George?  You didn't... no.  Surely you wouldn't be that... on the other hand, I... ok I'm just going to ask you straight.  This whole thing, it... did you cast a spell???"

When George didn't answer Hermione strode up to him and automatically George cowered slightly and held a hand up to his face, thinking she was going to slap him.  Hermione took hold of his hand and pulled it down.  George grimaced as she touched the wrist he had just twisted before.

"Oh don't be so silly," Hermione said with annoyance.

"No, it's just... Ron.  Thought I was Fred," George mumbled.  He was actually quite embarrassed by the fact that his little brother had hurt him.  And also the fact that Hermione was now taking his hand and looking at it carefully, her hands cold and soothing on his own.  He pulled his wrist away and hid a quick expression of pain as he kinked his neck slightly.  He was going to kill Ron.

"What did he do to you?" Hermione exasperated, as she peered at the side of his neck, where Ron had punched him.  Apparently he hadn't hidden that flinch as well as he'd thought.

"It's nothing... really."

Hermione didn't look convinced, but George looked so uncomfortable that she let it slide.

"Why did you cast such a stupid spell in the first place?" she asked.

George sighed.

"Well it wasn't supposed to go like this.  Something went wrong.  It was the wrong colour...  Anyway, it backfired and now it's all messed up."  He looked up at Hermione expecting her to be furious, or at least hurt that he'd messed around with her feelings.  But instead she just leaned against the wall and looked at him weirdly.  George waited, wondering what she was going to do.  Hex him, maybe.  A curse of some sort.  Something horrid, lasting for eternity-

Hermione let out a small chuckle.  George stared at her, his eyes wide.  This made her laugh even more, and pretty soon her giggles were infectious.  George was laughing as well, without really knowing why he was laughing.  They were stood opposite each other in the deserted corridor for a good two minutes laughing uncontrollably before students burst out of doors all around them and they were swallowed up in the noise of teenagers chattering.

Hermione felt someone grab her arm and let out a shriek, before George's face loomed towards her and whispered (as is often the only way to make yourself heard in a rabble), "come on".  He pulled her through the swarming mass of people and suddenly Hermione found herself in a now empty classroom.

George draped himself over a desk and Hermione sat down in the nearest chair.  She looked at him for a while, and in that space when their eyes met Hermione knew what she had to do.  Everything they needed to say to each other was said, without either of them opening their mouths.

"I'll help you, of course, but you can't make them forget.  It's not fair, George.  They have a right to remember what they were feeling."  Hermione paused, and then, as though the thought had only just occurred to her, "we have a right to remember".

George nodded.  "Tomorrow," he said simply.

"Will you be able to get some ingredients?" Hermione asked as she tore a page out of her Potions textbook and presented it to him.

George gaped at her.

"Yes, I know, I tore out a page.  Big deal.  I'm not as goody two shoes as everyone makes out, you know!"

George narrowed his eyes at her doubtfully.

"I have two copies.  This is the one I can get dirty in lessons.  The other is for best," Hermione muttered.  George smiled, and took the page from her.  After glancing at the list of ingredients he said he'd probably be able to manage it.

"Good.  Meet me tomorrow by the lake just before midnight.  The spell needs some pretty specific conditions."  Hermione threw him one last glance and stood up.  They exchange worried smiles, before Hermione exited the classroom.

George looked at the ingredients again.  There was some rare stuff in there; he'd have to cash in a few favours with a couple of mates.  He looked up and got a shock to see Hermione standing in the doorway.

She smiled awkwardly at him, and said, "I think emerald would bring out the colour of your eyes.  I heard you asking Ron before."  Then she turned on her heel quickly and hurried along the hallway.

George sat there, absentmindedly fiddling with the corner of the page.  His fingers moved to his hurt wrist, and he tried to remember the touch of Hermione's smooth hand compared to his own.  Ending this spell was going to be harder than he thought.