It's three weeks later, and tomorrow I'm going to Hogwarts. I'm nervous, but not as bad as a few weeks ago, now that I have everything in order and a pretty solid plan for my first quarter teaching.
Last night I spent my last Sunday dinner with the whole Weasley family, and tonight Ginny, Harry, and George are taking me out. Ron had an emergency meeting he had to attend, and Angie and Fred are still adjusting to their new little daughter, Ellen Lorraine. After all that talk about Fred being certain his first baby wouldn't chance being anything other than a son, that little girl already has him wrapped around her finger.
The same could be said of her uncle. As close as Fred and George are, it's really no wonder that he's already setting up to be the favorite uncle. He already loves little Ellie to pieces. When she was finally born, after nineteen hours of labor, he was almost as eager to hold the baby as Fred was. He and Fred are already talking about all the things they'll do if boys she goes to school with at Hogwarts ever do the kind of things they did with their girlfriends there.
Angie just laughed, saying they weren't really that bad, and later that night she cornered me in the kitchen, seemingly with the sole purpose of convincing me that George really would be a wonderful boyfriend, if ever a "sweet, kind girl like you gave him a chance".
I answered with emphatic denial, though at this point I think Angie can just see right through me.
I feel like tonight is going to be a real test, primarily because I'll be spending time with Ginny and Harry. Harry knows all my tells, after all those years together, and Ginny's always been able to read me like an open book. It doesn't bode well for me when all I'm trying to do is keep from leaping onto the table in this bar and shouting my love for George to the world.
Okay, that's actually not true at all. I would never in my life have the courage to do something like that. But, you know, desperate times.
"You all set to go then?" Harry asks from the other side of the booth, pulling me from my less than innocent thoughts. I drag my eyes away from where George is getting our drinks at the bar—looking especially fine tonight in jeans and a black button-up—and blink several times as I try to think about what exactly he just asked.
"Uhh… Yeah! For the most part, I mean." I glance at Ginny, who's sitting in between Harry and I, to see her smirking at me. Great. Ten minutes in and I've basically already spilled the beans.
I clear my throat uncomfortably. "My things are being sent ahead of me and I'm meeting a carriage outside of Hogsmeade. I don't really know what all I'll be doing for the first two weeks before classes start…I suppose primarily setting up my classroom and preparing lessons. I'm meeting McGonagall for tea tomorrow afternoon to discuss things."
"You'll have to tell all our old professors we say hello," Ginny urges. After the end of the war Arthur and Molly forced her back to Hogwarts to complete her last two years of schooling, but I think in the end she was glad that she finished her education. "It's so weird to think that you'll be a professor. You'll be the one all the kids complain about now."
"Maybe you'll get an exemplary student like yourself who grows to love and admire you," Harry offers enthusiastically.
"Or perhaps a brilliant prankster who understands that there's more to life than studying," George offers as he sets our drinks on the table, pausing for dramatic effect. "Like Fred."
I snort and take a sip of my tame pina colada—my Gryffindor courage does not extend to alcohol. "Like Fred indeed. Honestly, as long as they don't completely hate me, I'll be happy."
"You warn 'em the Weasley twins will deal with 'em if they give you any trouble," George proudly assures with a nod as he takes his seat next to me. To be fair, the Weasley twins are still legendary in Hogwarts, thanks to the now-seventh year students who were first years under Umbridge and still remember that day when Fred and George pulled the biggest prank in Hogwarts history.
"Thanks, I'll remember that," I quip, bumping shoulders with George as I laugh.
He retaliates by scooting closer on the bench so our thighs and arms are pressed together. I swallow hard as his warmth seeps into me and force myself not to move toward Ginny. He's just a friend. Friends can have close physical contact without anything being amiss.
It takes several moments for me to tune back into the conversation. By the time I focus Harry and George are earnestly discussing Quidditch, and Ginny nudges my knee under the table. Oh no.
"So," she says, softly enough so the boys won't hear and drawing the word out so it has about three more syllables than necessary. "You and George've been hanging out lately?"
The grain in this table is suddenly alarmingly fascinating. I stare at it intently as if it holds the answer to the quandary I'm now facing—that is, trying to convince the sister of the man I am deeply…interested in, who also happens to be one of my best friends, that I don't love her brother. I take a huge sip of my drink—liquid courage and all that. "You know, just…when I have dinner at Fred and Angie's."
Which is true. Most of the time, I only see George at Sunday dinner and Thursday nights. But ever since Ellie was born Fred and Angie have been taking a break from hosting, so instead I've taken to spending Thursday afternoons at WWW with George. Fred is taking six weeks off for the baby, so George has been working more than usual, even though they hired extra help before Ellie's birth. Usually I just stay at the counter with him to talk, but sometimes when it gets really busy I'll show people around the store to find what they're looking for.
After he closes the shop on Thursdays we're both, you know, hungry, so it's understandable that we go out to eat. And just hang out for the rest of the evening in Hogsmeade. Until after midnight.
In my mind it's all very understandable, but I'm not quite sure how to convince Ginny of this.
She just rolls her eyes and snickers. "Come on, 'Mione, you and I both know that you and George have gotten a lot closer than you ever were when we all went to school together. Even just in the last year. I'm not blind."
I let out a soft moan and turn so far from George I'm practically sitting on Ginny. "Does everyone know then?"
"Do you honestly think if my mother knew she wouldn't have set you too up already?" she asks exasperatedly. "No, not everyone knows. I just know what to look for in both of you."
I wince, but can't help but meet her eyes hopefully. "Both of us?"
"Hey, Gin, what was the name of your team captain seventh year?"
Harry and his bloody brilliant timing.
By the time Ginny's gotten through answering Harry, we've moved on to more all-inclusive topics and can't escape so easily again. We chat about what my first quarter teaching will be like, whether or not anyone thinks Hagrid ever contacted Madame Maxine, how Harry might be getting a promotion soon.
Eventually we find ourselves outside the pub, Harry and Ginny getting ready to leave. Harry hugs me and wishes me luck while Ginny gives me a not so very discreet wink and nod in George's direction before hugging me goodbye.
He's grinning at me when I finally turn and face him, so naturally I drop my purse and spill its entire contents on the cobblestone.
"Let me help you," he offers, crouching down beside me as I blush and sputter. He hands me the one tube of lipstick that I own, which is probably shattered now. "Want to go to Fred and Angie's and look in on Ellie real quick? You won't see 'em again before you leave."
I grin and stuff my copy of Hogswarts: A History into my bag before he can make a joke. "You know I'd never miss a chance to see my new goddaughter."
To say I was shocked when Angie and Fred asked me to be Ellie's godmother is an understatement. It was my first time meeting Ellie when I visited them in the hospital and I was getting a bit weepy sitting in the chair next to Angie's bed and holding the new little baby, with her dark hair and Fred's green eyes and Angie's nose. So obviously when Fred knelt in front of me and told me he and Angie wanted me to be Ellie's godmother, I started crying for real. In the midst of my blubbering was a 'yes', of course.
Ellie's like the niece I'll never have. Though of course I always wanted a sister for the companionship, I also knew I would have loved spoiling my nieces and nephews rotten.
George and I apparate to Fred and Angie's apartment and knock softly so we don't wake Ellie up. Poor Angie looks tired when she opens the door, but she gives us both a big smile and pulls me into a hug. "I was hoping we'd see you again before you left."
George and I tiptoe inside and see Fred pacing across the sitting room in his pajamas, holding a tiny, whimpering goddaughter of mine. I grin and rush over to him, gazing down at the fat little baby cheeks and flexing fingers. "Oh, can I hold her?"
He rolls his eyes and reluctantly hands his daughter over. "All you womenfolk always cooing and fighting over her." He gently strokes her cheek with the back of his finger as she stretches and lets out a grunt. "Gotta hide from everyone just so I can hold 'er."
"Don't be such a baby hog," I whisper, taking a seat on the couch and laying Ellie down on my thighs. "Are you still mad she defied you and came out a girl?"
"Nah," he murmurs, sitting next to me, neither of us able to tear our eyes away from the baby. "Loved her a bit too much right from the start."
I scoff. "A bit too much." I look up to see Angie and George staring at the two of us with…some sort of expression on their faces. Would I call it fond? I don't really know another word to describe it.
"You still horribly sleep deprived?" I ask Angie as she comes to sit on my other side, George settling crosslegged in front of us.
She shrugs. "It's really not as bad as I thought it would be. We just sleep when she sleeps. It'll be harder when Fred goes back to work of course, but by then she'll be almost two months old."
"What time are you leaving tomorrow, Hermione?" Fred asks.
"In about," I glance at the clock on the wall and groan, "seven hours. I should actually probably get going. I just wanted to come by and see you guys one more time before I left."
"George," Fred says as I press my lips to Ellie's forehead before handing her off to her mother, "will you make sure our Hermione gets back to the Burrow safely? You know how we worry about her."
George nods solemnly. "I will do my utmost to keep the fair lady safe."
"Oh, no," I protest as I get to my feet, "George, you have to be at the shop even before I have to leave in the morning—"
"Shh," he hushes me, dramatically putting his finger to my lips. I'm effectively shocked into silence, a bit offended, but mostly amused. "I won't take no for an answer, Hermione. You know I have to fulfill my quota of good deeds in order to remain on Santa's 'nice' list."
Angie smirks. "Think you and Fred both are permanently on the naughty list, actually."
He shrugs. "Worth a shot."
It's almost one o'clock by the time George and I apparate near the Burrow after saying bye to Fred and Angie. I'll admit I teared up a little bit—I know I won't be seeing them again for at least a month, if not longer.
"Well, this is it," George remarks softly as we come to a stop in the Burrow garden. The house is dark, Arthur and Molly having gone to bed hours ago, and the only light is from the half moon. The moonlight makes George's freckles stand out stark against his pale skin, and his green eyes look darker than usual.
"This is it," I agree, turning and facing him for the goodbye I've dreaded more than any other.
"I'll come see you in a few weeks," he promises quietly. "And you should owl me within a couple days to let me know how you're settling in."
"I will," I whisper, not wanting to raise my voices for fear of disturbing this moonlit night. "Take care of my goddaughter."
He's quiet for a long, long moment, and I think he's going to kiss me and he slowly leans forward, taking my hand and squeezing it. I'm a little disappointed when his lips press gently against my cheek. "I'll miss you, 'Mione," he whispers in my ear.
I nod, not trusting my voice to speak, and put my arms around his neck in a tight hug. "I'll miss you too, George. See you in a few weeks." I pull back and quickly, before I can lose my nerve, press my lips to his jaw, and turn and walk into the house.