Author's Notes: Nothing interesting here. Sorry I didn't get it up earlier. This hasn't been edited, but I wanted to get it up to you as soon as I could. Hope there aren't too many mistakes. Read on…
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it, simply the plot.
Chapter 8
Oliver Intervention
As she came closer, her eyes moved to his lips and she leaned toward him, closing her eyes…
"Hmmhmm," the clearing of a voice echoed across the room. Hermione had fallen so far into the moment, that she didn't even hear it. George, however, was completely on edge with Hermione so close to him and the voice rang loud and clear. He knew the distinct throat clearing to be none other than Hermione's mentor and the object of George's torment, Minerva.
George laughed, frustrated but amused at the ironic (and somewhat annoying) timing of Minerva's entrance. This pulled Hermione out of her clouds and into the room, seeing Minerva standing over them, she jumped quickly to her feet, blushing from head to toe. "Oh, Profess…I mean, Minerva, we were just…"
He swooped in to her rescue. "What can I say?" he grinned, "Can't keep her hands off me."
Hermione glared daggers at him. "No, we weren't…he's just…" Minerva put a hand up to stop the girl and just smiled knowingly.
"I'll see you two in the Great Hall, five minutes." With that she walked swiftly from the room leaving the two of them to stare wordlessly.
"Umm…" George started as he rubbed his hand on the back of his neck.
Hermione stammered for a second. "I…I, well I shouldn't…We…well, I…" She stopped and took a deep breath, shifting her gaze from him to the door. "I'll…see you in the Great Hall." She barely got the words out before the door shut behind her.
"Wow George! You really know how to woo a lady," he said to himself as he threw his hands up in the air and followed her out.
The week passed relatively uneventfully. Hermione was again avoiding George like he was the plague. Two awkward intimate moments and we're not even dating yet, he thought to himself. He had resigned to believe that it was better this way. Obviously the universe didn't want them together and he understood why, sort of. They didn't even have anything in common, so they'd inevitably fall into a horrific break-up and scar their friendship forever, or completely destroy it. They were colleagues and everyone knows that one shouldn't mix business and pleasure. He was sure there were other reasons, but he didn't spend all his time dwelling on them. He was busy preparing and rehearsing his lessons as well as getting acquainted with his lab and classroom. (Or at least that's how he rationalized not being able to find any other reasons.)
George was feeling especially frustrated one day when he couldn't concentrate on anything. He tried working on his lesson plans, but he knew them already. He tried inventing some new products, he got bored. He even tried…reading, but that didn't last long either. Finally, he decided that he needed a breath of fresh air to clear his senses. Well, a gust really. He took off outside the castle and up unto his Thunderbolt 2003 – the newest broom on the market. There were some perks to being part owner of one of the greatest prank shops in the wizarding world.
As he flew through the clear summer air, all his cares seem to just float away. The war, his job, Hermione, none of it mattered, not up here. Up here he was free to be whomever he wanted and there was no one to interfere with his wandering thoughts. Or so he thought…
George was so lost in thought that he didn't hear Oliver calling to him from the ground. In fact, he didn't notice him until Oliver had flown up and stopped right in front of him, forcing him to swerve and almost tumbling off his broom.
"Oliver! Bloody hell, don't do that!" he shouted once he had regained control of his broom and his heart rate.
Oliver smiled sheepishly, "Sorry. I must have shouted your name a hundred times though. Got something on your mind?"
"No, actually. I was sort of spacing out and relaxing in a great abyss of nothingness."
"That's pretty deep George. I think this whole 'Professor' bit is going to your head."
"Hah. Hah." The two flew side-by-side for a while, in comfortable silence. Well, comfortable to George. Oliver kept looking over at him like he wanted to say something, but didn't. After about the tenth look George gave in to the inevitable chat they would be having. "Out with it."
"What, mate?"
"Something you want to talk about Oliver?"
He laughed, "And perceptive too. You certainly are a professor now." George just looked at him until he finally relented. "You caught me," he sighed. "I don't know how comfortable a subject it will be for you though."
"You'll never know unless you ask."
"It's about Hermione."
Oh, George thought, here comes the part where he asks, 'What's going on between the two of you?' Probably been talking to McGonagall. "What about Hermione?"
"Well," he started unsteadily, "I really, well, I think I might like to ask her out."
"What!" George nearly fell off his broom. This is not at all what he had expected.
"You don't think I should?"
"Well, no. I mean, I guess I'm just surprised is all. How long have you…thought this?"
"Well, since I went to her flat, a few weeks ago. I gave her the message from Albus."
George looked scandalized, though his expression didn't do justice to exhibit the way he was truly feeling inside. He didn't know what to think, how to respond. Not that it mattered, right? He didn't like Hermione like that. She was practically family. So what if they almost kissed…twice. So what if he really, really wanted to kiss her. That didn't mean anything, did it? He was just in need of a relationship and she was there and, well, he had to admit that she really was quite beautiful and intelligent and witty and…Stop! She was Ron's friend, Ginny's friend, his colleague…not a romantic interest.
"Well, you believe me right?" Oliver pleaded.
"Huh?" George looked up, not having heard a word of Oliver's explanation.
"Nothing happened between Hermione and I," he sighed.
"Oh." George looked confused. "Why would I care if something happened between you and Hermione?" Oh God, am I that transparent?
Oliver let out a sigh of relief, "I was afraid you might go all 'big brother' on me."
George gave a weak, hollow chuckle, but Oliver didn't seem to notice and went right on smiling. "That why you wanted to talk to me? Make sure I didn't kick your arse?" His good mood and clear head had just been clouded and banged on the concrete repeatedly.
Oliver smiled sheepishly, "I guess. But I was also wondering…you think it would work?"
"You and Hermione? Why the hell not?" he responded glumly as he soared toward the castle doors.
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Hermione had spent the whole day trying to figure out what to say to George. They needed to talk about this. I mean, two 'close encounters' and not a word spoken of either. She knew George and she knew she'd have to be the one to initiate the conversation; he'd probably just ignore it. She spent a lot of time just trying to decide what it was that had happened. Were those just lustful moments with lots of passion and a lack of willpower? Or was there something really happening between them? Okay, she'd be lying if she said she didn't get butterflies whenever George was really close to her or the two were flirting shamelessly. He matched wit and intellect more than she would have thought. She found herself watching him in the Great Hall, at meals, noticing the friendly, loving twinkle as opposed to the mischievous glint that took over his green eyes.
His eyes were just green, nothing spectacular about them, except that they were always bright these days, even when he was obviously tired or in a terribly boring conversation with another professor, his eyes were bright. They didn't used to be. Hermione remembered after the war, how dull is eyes were, it was as though they willed him not to go on anymore. Not like Harry's emerald eyes, so full of determination and…
She stood quickly. I have to be with people and get away from my thoughts for a while! With that she pulled on her cloak and headed toward the common room.
As she stepped out her door, she noticed George coming in, looking as if he'd been beaten repeatedly with a bludger.
"George!" She couldn't help it, she was concerned!
He looked over at her, his face was void of emotion and his eyes didn't hold their usual brightness. "Oliver's waiting for you," he nodded his head toward the door and headed to his room.
Hermione scrunched her nose in confusion before slowly opening the door.
"Hermione!" Oliver said jovially. It seemed that he was talking to himself before she opened the door.
"Did you need something?" she was hoping to get this over with and talk to George as soon as she could, she was worried.
"Yes, can I have a word with you?" Hermione looked at him expectantly, as though willing him to continue. Only her head was poking out of the door to her common room. "In private?"
"Oh." Hermione opened the door fully. "Yes, well, I suppose we could talk in my room." She led him swiftly to her room and shut the door quietly behind her, gesturing to the table and chairs. "Have a seat."
Oliver chose to ignore her gesture and sat on the loveseat. She turned to him, standing, and crossed her arms. She raised her eyebrows as though to encourage him to speak, quickly. He couldn't help but notice that she seemed jumpy and a bit agitated. Maybe this wasn't the best timing. He cursed himself inwardly; normally he had impeccable timing when it came to women.
"Won't you sit?" he asked, waving an arm toward the seat beside him. She chose an armchair. Maybe I've been reading her all wrong, he thought.
She still didn't speak, so he plunged right in. "Normally, I wouldn't be this forward, but we're old friends," he paused, waiting for her to agree with him. She kept silent, but he thought he saw her nod slightly so he continued. "So I thought I should be up front with you, Hermione."
He spoke very business-like but with smoothness in his voice. She smiled; she liked Oliver and did have a slight crush on him for a time in her first year, though it didn't last long. All he thought about was Quidditch! "Yes?" she asked sweetly.
That's more like it, he thought. "Well," he scooted toward her chair. "I was wondering if you would join me for dinner this evening."
Hermione laughed. "What!" Oliver questioned, quite offended.
"You want me to sit beside you at dinner?" she giggled.
Oliver smiled. "Yes, except I don't want there to be anyone else at the table for you to sit beside."
Her laughter stopped and she looked at him confusedly. "You want…but…" she wondered aloud as she tried to decode his words. "Are you asking me out?" She didn't even blushed, which surprised both she and Oliver. A slight smile graced her face though, giving Oliver the sensation of a yes, without her even saying it.
"If you'll have me."
She smiled to herself. "I don't…" Oliver's face fell. "I don't know if it's such a good idea."
He stood, ready to make his exit. She didn't say 'No' and that meant she'd go, that was all he needed to hear. "What say we go and you decide afterward whether it was a good idea or not?"
Hermione relented and gave a defeated sigh. Oliver smiled. "Meet you at Three Broomsticks at seven then." He bent down and kissed her cheek as he left the room. Hermione lay back in the armchair and chuckled. What had she gotten herself into?
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Later that evening, George trudged down to the Great Hall for dinner, not feeling much better than he had earlier. Before term started, the professors dined at one table, much like the students, sitting on both sides. Albus, noticing two empty places, turned to Minerva. "Where are Oliver and Hermione?"
"I don't know. Hermione's probably still preparing. Poor dear, her study habits haven't changed a bit since she was a student." The professors around her chuckled, George scowled.
"Perhaps we should send up some dinner," suggested Professor Sprout.
"That won't be necessary," George chimed in.
"You'll take care of that then, George?" Minerva asked, a teasing smile on her face.
George's scowl deepened. "She and Oliver are dining together this evening," he responded, trying to hide the resentment in his voice.
Everyone looked a bit shocked, except Albus, of course. The other professors, thanks to Minerva's gossip, knew all about Hermione's and George's encounter earlier in the week. George pushed out of his seat quickly and excused himself.
"Mr. Weasley?"
He turned to face Albus, just as he'd reached the door. "Yes?"
"You'll see that Miss Granger gets in alright?"
"Yeah," he said quickly and turned out. He made it to his room and slumped down on the bed, hoping that Hermione was having as bad an evening as him. For Hermione's sake, he was wrong.
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"Oliver?"
"Mmm?" he said, mouth full of food.
She giggled; the two had been having a lovely evening. Just talking and laughing, though most of the time he was flirting shamelessly with her. Hermione found it a little difficult to contain her blush and would quickly change the subject, avoiding her discomfort. She didn't like feeling uncomfortable and didn't know why Oliver made her feel this way.
"Why did you ask me here tonight?"
Oliver smiled and shrugged. "Why not?"
She glared teasingly at him. "Come on!" she pouted. "Really."
"You're the first woman that I've gotten to know in a long time and I thought maybe…I wanted to see if it was anything more."
"And?"
"And…did you know you've been comparing me to George all night?"
Hermione blushed deeper than she had the whole night. She bit her bottom lip, "I have?"
Oliver chuckled, "Yeah," he shook his head. "I should have picked up on that before I got you out here."
"Picked up on what?"
"The chemistry between the two of you. I asked George if he thought I should ask you out. Really, I just wanted to make sure he wouldn't kick my ar…or behind."
"Why would he do that?" she giggled. The giggling may be due to that glass of wine, or perhaps it was the thought that George might like her too.
"You two seemed close; I didn't want him to go all protective on me."
"We seem close?" Oliver realized she was only picking up on parts of the conversation, she was looking for something.
"Maybe you don't notice Hermione, but everyone else does. The little glances you throw toward one another when you think the other's not looking. And I heard about the…erm….position that Minerva found you in the other day."
That blush came back to Hermione full force though she tried to laugh it off. "You…heard?"
Oliver laughed, "But since neither of you turned down my request of asking you out, I figured, why not?"
Hermione smiled. "I think I'm ready to go back to the castle now Oliver," she smiled.
"You go on ahead," he said. "I think you might have a bit to think about."
She smiled gratefully before reaching up and kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you Oliver."
It was his turn to blush. "Anytime," he smiled.
"Oh and Oliver?" she turned to him. "Don't tell anyone about our talk, will you?"
He smiled his response and headed to the bar.
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George paced the common room. It was almost midnight! "Where the hell is she?"
He'd done a lot of thinking that night and he'd decided that he didn't care what anyone else thought. He liked Hermione and if he wanted to have a relationship then no one could stop him, except her of course! But he had to at least tell her how he felt before she could decide anything. And he wasn't about to let that ladies man Wood get her!
As he paced the room and thought of all the places she and Oliver could be and all the things they could be doing he became angrier and angrier until finally, at ten after midnight, Hermione came through the door, practically floating.
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" he practically screamed at her.
Hermione gasped. "George, do you want to wake Minerva?"
"I don't bloody care who I wake! Do you know what time it is!"
"Yes, do you?"
"Where have you been?" his anger was subsiding but his annoyance was increasing as she avoided his questions.
"Why do you care?" she asked cheekily. She had been walking the castle yards, thinking. She finally decided that George would have to prove how he felt for her; she couldn't hear it from someone else. She had every intention of speaking to him about it in the morning, but he was just infuriating her with his protectiveness.
"Sorry if I don't think it's appropriate for two professors to be shagging one another!"
Hermione had never seen him like this, this angry or upset or whatever this was. But he had crossed the line and she was pissed off. "What did you say?" Her anger was low and controlled.
"What else would explain where you've been?"
"I guess you'll never know," she replied haughtily as she turned toward her room.
George leaped over the armchair, guarding her entrance into her room. "Like hell I won't!"
"George Weasley, I don't know what has gotten into you, but I do NOT appreciate being hounded for what I choose to do with my personal time!" Her anger was getting away from her and she was shouting as loud as him. She pushed him out the way and reached for the doorknob, only to be intercepted by George's hand.
"I'm sorry." She looked up into his eyes, they were bright again. She smiled, all her anger washed away.
Author's Notes: Sorry, it took longer than I thought. And I know it's kind of a cliffie again, sorry! Next chapter will have much more Hermione/George interaction, no fears.
