Disclaimer: Owned by JK, elaborated by me.


Chapter Four
No Goodbyes, Only Until Next Time

George awoke early the next morning to open up the shoppe in Hogsmeade. (Early for George meant 10 AM. The shoppe didn't open until 11 AM. After all, what jokester shopped that early!) He was going to be working with Fred this morning and he'd have to give him the news. He dressed in blue jeans and his polo shirt with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes embroidered on the left breast. He looked in the mirror, sighing. His hair had gotten long and slightly crimped as it fell over his green eyes. Was this the way a teacher was supposed to look? Maybe he should cut his hair? Dress more professionally? If it mattered, McGonagall would have surely told me. Wait, no Minerva…that even sounds creepy just thinking it. In the letter, it clearly outlined that he was a Professor and not a student and would be expected to behave respectably and call all the teachers by their first names.

"George!" Mrs. Weasley's voice tunneled up the stairwell. "If you don't hurry you won't have time to eat breakfast!"

"Right, coming Mum!" With that, he pulled back his hair and rushed downstairs eating slightly less than his usual heaping portion of pancakes.

"Ginny, I really could use you this afternoon. Fred has to go shopping for something or other." George thought his brother mentioned something about a ring, but he wasn't sure, or maybe he just didn't want to think he heard that.

"If Lily's in a decent disposition, I will try." They had come to an understanding, trying their best to be as supportive as possible after last night's episode at dinner.

George had accidentally split his pumpkin juice down the shirt of a very exhausted, very sleep-deprived, very edgy Ginny. She snapped! Yelling, throwing things and then taking off into the garden behind the house. George followed her…

"Ginny!" It was already dark out. "Ginny! Look, I'm sorry! It really was an accident!" He was slowly crossing the garden when he saw her out across the yard. She was sitting with her back against a tree trunk, knees pulled close into her chest with her arms wrapped around them and her head down. George walked over and sat down next to her, not saying a word. He could hear her soft sobbing and gasps for breath.

She took a deep breath though kept her head down. "I miss him," her voice caught in her throat and her cry became louder. At a loss for words, George wrapped an arm around his sister's shoulders.

She breathed two more deep breaths before she felt her voice had steadied enough to speak. "I'm sorry. The pumpkin juice, it's okay. I shouldn't have…I'm sorry."

"I should be the one apologizing. You've been through so much Gin, I am sorry that I wasn't here for you. I know it must be awful what with Ha…well, without him."

She looked up finally, a slight smile on her face as she whispered, "Thanks."

They sat out under the tree and the stars for a long time with no further words exchanged. They understood without speaking, the War had been hell. Ginny had rested back onto her brother's shoulder and fallen asleep. He carried her up to her room, but before he left, her eyes opened slightly, "Thanks."

George smiled, "Anytime."

Just as he passed the threshold of the door, Ginny said softly, "Hey George? Truce?" He smiled again, nodding.

-

"Thanks Gin," he hurriedly kissed the forehead of each woman in his life (all of which he was related to, sadly) and with a POP! He was standing in Hogsmeade outside the store, keys in hand. He put his hand on the knob, Locked. Beat Fred again. His mind started to wonder why Fred had been incessantly late for the last few weeks, and after thinking of whom he spent his nights with, decided to stop his train of thought immediately and open up shop.

-

Almost eleven…Fred is still not here. George had cast a few cleaning spells, restocked a few items and was now going over some financial papers before he opened, waiting on his brother to come before he 'officially' opened. When he heard the clock on the wall sound, he decided he could wait no longer and headed to the front to change the signs and unlock the doors.

Just as he was turning the very last sign on the front door, he saw a very attractive witch with a mane of brown hair down her back. She looked as though she was lost in thought, almost arguing with herself. George laughed as realization dawned on him. How many beautiful witches in this world argued with themselves in public!

He swung the door opened, "Hermione?"


Hermione had woken early that morning. She wasn't scheduled to meet with Dumbledore until noon, but she was never one to be late, always early! Punctuality was something she'd always prided herself on. She was also dreadfully nervous. It had been so long since she'd really been in the wizarding world. She'd had a restless night, so getting up was not a problem, staying up, however, could prove rather difficult. She jumpstarted her energy with a very strong cup of coffee. (Maybe it was three or four very strong cups of coffee, but who's counting!) She looked over her local newspaper and thoroughly inspected the Daily Prophet. She'd had Oliver send her one this morning so that she'd be well aware of the happenings within the wizarding world, so if all else failed, she'd have something to discuss with Dumbledore. Why had he wanted to see her in person? Couldn't he have just owled her!

After a long, hot shower, she headed to her closet, towel wrapped around her head. What to wear? Hmm, this dress is nice; maybe it's a bit too much. Wait! Duh Hermione! What do wizards and witches wear? Robes. She headed to the far end of her closet and pulled out her best-casual robes. Not that she was into looks, but she did want to look presentable. She would probably be seeing people she hadn't seen in ages.

She tried numerous styles with her hair, but eventually ended up leaving it down, as usual. Only at work did she usually keep it up, and only in a messy bun. It had tamed since her adolescence. Her once frizz-ball had become more of a showering of curls. There was still frizz, especially on a humid day, and her hair was not smooth and silky, but it suited her. She had learned to manage it to her satisfaction. Her hair was good, make-up in place, robes neatly pressed, she was ready, she thought.

She couldn't help but be a bit excited, going back to Hogsmeade and Hogwarts after all this time. She often missed it and thought of returning. She really didn't know what quite kept her away. Was it Harry's death? She missed him. He was her best friend, her soul mate, he understood her more than anyone she'd ever met. There were always rumors about their relationship, but none were true. Harry and Hermione were never lovers, just the best friends that everyone always hopes for but few ever get to truly experience. Ron and Ginny were the people who came closest to filling that void, but sometimes it hurt that they were trying so hard to fill it.

"This will be good for me. It will be good to get out." She spoke aloud, though only to herself. "Maybe I will see some people, old friends," trying her best to keep a smile and cheery tone to her voice, but allowing it to fade, "Hopefully not too many people…" She looked at her watch, "Eleven AM." She had time to spare, but decided to apparate to Hogsmeade now. She had apparated in a long time and she wanted to stroll around Hogsmeade and Hogwarts for a while, and desperately feared being late.

With a lot of concentration and a loud POP, she was standing in front of The Three Broomsticks. She chuckled softly. There had been many good times shared here. She took a deep breath and smiled, she missed this place.

She began to wander up the street, drifting back into query. What could Dumbledore, after all this time, possibly want to speak with her about? Damn Oliver for not telling her! What if it was bad news? What if something had happened, something else? She didn't know if she could go back there, to the War, to the fighting, the sorrow, the pain. Though, it could be good news. Maybe Harry wasn't actually dead! Perhaps they'd found a way to bring him back, to reconcile all the survivors of the War? No…no, that couldn't be. I am always overanalyzing things. She sighed aloud.

"After years of no contact and you sigh in response to my calling your name?" Called a voice from just behind her, a very familiar voice, but she didn't turn around. "Now, Hermione, I know you're a bit of a know-it-all, but rudeness just does not suit you."

She gasped haughtily (that was always getting her into trouble, her pride) though she could hear the humor in the voice of the offender. "Why, how…" she turned around. "…how…How are you! Fred…or, no, George." She smiled.

"You got it right," he smirked.

"Yes, well, don't get too excited. I just assumed Fred would have Alicia attached to his side and, as far as I can tell," she looked a bit behind him, just to b sure, "No Alicia."

"You heard," George frowned slightly though the warm twinkle never left his eyes. "Yes, yes, Fred's kicking his old twin to the curb."

Awkward silence.

"So…" George began tentatively. "What brings you to Hogsmeade? I thought you didn't come out of your Muggle shell," he joked, trying to lighten the mood, ease the slight tension between the two.

She smiled, despite herself. "I, well, I have a meeting, I suppose." She didn't really want to talk about it, seeing as she had no idea what this meeting was about. She shifted her eyes from his face. "I am told the shoppe is doing quite well," she stated, gliding her gaze back to him. He had an amazing fleck of gold in his hazel eyes that was heightened by his pale complexion and darker freckles.

"Oh yeah, the shoppe, it's doing very well." This only reminded him that it was open and no one was in their running it. "I better get back," he said grudgingly. He wanted to continue talking to her. He had never been truly good friends with her, or even really friends at all. She was still someone that he cared for and it had been so long, her eyes looked so lost.

"Yeah, I should get along to my meeting," though she knew she had time to spare. She was trying to make the exit more natural.

He smiled. "Well, I guess I'll see you then?" His eyebrows raised questioningly? "It'd be great to have you come around the Burrow for dinner sometime."

"I know George, I'd love to, but…I, well, I just don't know." She really wanted to make that exit now!

"No pressure, but everyone misses you Hermione. Mum especially," his voice and expression were so sincere. Hermione wasn't sure she had ever seen him so serious. Then, she hadn't seen him in a very long time.

"I'll try," she said softly, though she knew it wasn't really true. She wouldn't try, not even as much as she wanted to see everyone. Something just kept her.

George reached to her chin and pulled it toward him to look her in the eyes. "Goodbye Hermione," he smiled sullenly, sure this would probably be the last he saw of the girl for a very long time, if ever.

She smiled, sheepishly. It was as though he knew she never planned on coming. She didn't want to lie to him, she couldn't, the way he was forcing her to look him in the eyes. "No goodbyes George. Only, until next time." She believed this was true. The only real good-bye was death, otherwise there was always a chance of bumping into someone unexpectedly. She didn't like to believe in eternal good-byes.

He laughed and headed back into the shop leaving Hermione with a whole new batch of thoughts to deal with.


Author's Notes: Thank you for the lovely reviews. This story is a slow starter, but I assure you it will be worth it! This chapter's much longer! Yay! I'm really bad at this 'long-chapter' thing, sorry!