Chapter 2

For over an hour Hermione helped Mrs. Weasley make and deliver homemade orange juice. By the time she had finished getting the juice to Ron (on the top floor), Bill (on the first floor) had polished off the juice and was ready for the mug to be taken away. She spent another fifteen minutes collecting the cups and mugs, bringing them downstairs, and letting Mrs. Weasley wash them. At least that could be done with magic, she thought with a sigh.

As she continued this pattern for the rest of the day she realized Fred hadn't been joking; they only consumed juice. In large quantities of course, but juice all the same. When she pointed this out Mrs. Weasley waved her away impatiently (you would be impatient too if you had been making juice all day), saying something along the lines of: "Nonsense. They got oatmeal for lunch and they'll get soup for dinner."

More unfortunately, Hermione realised that just because she wasn't sick she didn't get a different diet. Mrs. Weasley was convinced that if Hermione didn't adhere strictly to the non-solids rule she would get sick as well, and that would never do. At least Hermione agreed with that part; she didn't want to spend her vacation in bed. Then again, she hadn't wanted to spend her vacation taking care of people in bed...

Hermione (while making, of all things, more juice) was quite busy musing on this when someone tapped her shoulder. She gave a start and turned around, surprised to see George. Or Fred. One of them, at any rate.

"Would you like me to take over that?" he asked, and she gratefully handed over the juicer. She then turned to leave, and he looked at her incredulously. "Well?" he asked. She looked at him in confusion. "Aren't you supposed to offer your thanks, than say that it isn't really any trouble? Then you say that you aren't tired of it, and you'll be glad to continue, and quite possibly ask how I'm getting on. Then-"

"You've been thinking about this too much," Hermione said delicately, "And besides, you shouldn't have offered if you weren't willing to hold it up." George (for it was, indeed, George) grinned.

"Fair enough. Juice?" he asked sweetly, holding out a freshly squeezed cup. Hermione shuddered.

"No, thank you. Now I know where you were coming from earlier; I'm positively sick of it." George nodded sympathetically.

"And you've only been here for a day. I've been dealing with this for almost a week," he said. Hermione shuddered again, and patted him on the shoulder.

"Well, it's already been awhile, so they're bound to get better soon," she said, trying to be positive. Even as she said it, though, she looked doubtful.

"So," George asked, deciding to change the subject, "Why haven't you asked which one I am yet?" Hermione shrugged.

"I can ask and you can answer, but does that really tell me anything?" she replied. George smiled.

"No, I suppose not. Well, at least you've narrowed it down to only two of us, imagine if you confused me with Ron." He shuddered again, this time in obvious jest. Hermione pushed his shoulder half-heartedly.

"Well, you are right, we can't have that. I mean, some people obviously can't measure up to men like Ron…" She stopped as George held the juice above her head in mock threat. She laughed, and he joined in.

"Measure down, s'more like it," he said, putting down the juice.

"And you would know, little brother?" Charlie asked languidly, coming in to the kitchen. George immediately handed him an orange.

"Mum said that you were to take over the juicing," he said with a straight face, while Hermione snorted. Charlie raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think mum said anything of the sort," he said, ignoring the orange and sitting on the worn stone counter-top. George sighed with disappointment and began working again.

"Well, it was worth a shot," he muttered. Charlie looked like he was about to reply, but started coughing.

"Charlie?" Hermione asked uncertainly. He kept coughing.

"Charlie, old man?" George asked, thumping him on the back. He quieted down after a moment, sneezing. George sighed again.

"Hermione, you give him some juice. I'll go tell mum there's another one down." He bounded out of the room, and Charlie looked at Hermione forlornly. She poured him some juice, and then, after checking that no one else was looking, cut him off a piece of bread from the loaf in the corner. He accepted it gratefully and wolfed it down before his mum could see it.

"Where are you going to sleep?" Hermione asked, curious. Since all of the Weasley children were back for the summer the house was very full, and sleeping arrangements for the sick were complicated.

"Well, I guess I'll set up a cot in Percy's room. The twins are staying in their room, Ron's room is too bright for me, Bill is already staying in Ginny's room, and dad is in his room. Where are you staying?" he asked, coughing again. Hermione shrugged.

"On the couch in the living room, I suppose." Charlie shook his head.

"Mum already is staked out over there. She-"

"Why, you'll be staying with us then, won't you?" one of the twins asked, coming up behind them and slinging his arms over Hermione's shoulders. Hermione smiled weakly. She was very fond of the twins, however annoying they might be, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to stay with them while she was sleeping. She had no doubts that she would become the victim (er, test-subject) of their latest experiment.

"We promise to be good," Fred said, grinning wickedly in a none too reassuring manner.

A/N: I am floored by all of you awesome reviewers! I'm so sorry the chapter is so short, but it's just getting warmed up. I'll do reviewer shout-outs next chapter! Please review, because it makes me want to give up my mornings (like I am now) to get up a chapter as soon as possible!