During the war everyone had lost someone dear to them. Some had lost siblings, others children, nephews, or nieces, but few had been as affected as George Weasley. He had lost a part of himself, half of himself, was like an incomplete puzzle without a chance of ever being complete again. Fred was gone.
After his twin's funeral, Molly had insisted that George move back into The Burrow, and at the time he couldn't resist. It was easier to go back home, where most of his family was there for him, where they made sure he couldn't do anything stupid. The number of times he had thought about it... He couldn't count them any more, and he knew his mother had seen it. If possible Molly Weasley had become even more protective of her children after the war, didn't even let go of Harry and Hermione, who had both moved into The Burrow as well. At first he didn't particularly care. Harry was Ginny's, Hermione was Ron's. These were truths. He knew many such truths that helped him through the day. He held on to them like a drowning man to a rock in the sea. Harry was Ginny's, Hermione was Ron's, his mother's cooking was the best in the world, Crookshanks knew when he had a bad day and would curl up next to him in the evening. His father loved all things muggle, Charlie felt guilty because he hadn't been there for most of the war, Bill and Fleur were trying their best to get Fleur knocked up, Teddy was just like Tonks even though Harry tried to tell him about Remus. Everyone was moving forward, moving on, while he couldn't.
He was surprised when one of these truths stopped being true, and crumbled away quickly.
Hermione wasn't Ron's any more. After thinking about it for a while, he corrected himself because she had probably never been Ron's to begin with. They'd had years together, years spent as best friends, years as almost-siblings. Now that they lived like siblings in the same household, it seemed impossible for them to once more re-ignite that spark that they had felt during the last battle. He would have comforted his younger brother if only he had known how to. He couldn't even take care of himself, he couldn't comfort anyone else, he was awful to be around.
And then she started seeking him out.
Hermione Granger decided that he would be her next charity case. He didn't like the idea of that one bit, and he acted accordingly. After a few more times that she showed up to bother him, he called her out on it, used some rather nasty words, and couldn't fathom why his accusations confused her. Since Hermione didn't bugger off, only one good thing came from his outburst: right there and then George decided he didn't want to wallow in self-pity, that he didn't want anyone else's pity either, and that if he continued to openly be such a miserable git, people would keep pitying him.
Incomplete and broken. On the inside. Starting right there and then, the lonely twin would start acting more like his former self.
An honest man wouldn't wear such a mask, wouldn't put up such an act. He had been a liar since the age of five.
This plan would have worked well had it not been for Hermione and her persistence. George had not expected that she'd affect him like she did, but she was grating, nagging, scratching away at the walls he had built up and kept building up. If anything she had become more insistent that he should be talking to her. Not just as though he was a charity case, but like she was some kind of mind healer who could actually help him. It never came to another outburst like the first one though. He didn't have the strength to get that worked up again. He had to spend all his energy on getting through the day, joking, smiling, checking up on the shop. George tried taking the easy way out by ignoring Hermione, and letting her babble on about this and that. On rare occasions a harsh, sarcastic comment would leave his lips. The tone he took with her was reserved for her and her ears only, no one else was he so harsh with.
She never flew off the handle, never took the bait, never got angry. Whenever he snapped at her, she only looked at him with curious eyes, and made him feel like some kind of arithmancy problem she had never encountered before.
Then she stopped talking. He waited for her to start again, but she didn't, and after a few days he couldn't help himself any more, he had to ask.
"What's wrong?" Her head snapped in his direction faster than a Firebolt.
"Nothing's wrong."
"You've stopped talking."
"You were listening?"
"That's not what I said", he retorted, annoyance obvious. "You just constantly talked, Merlin knows how you can have so much to talk about, and now you don't. Pretty drastic change, if you ask me." Hermione sighed, and made herself comfortable on the couch in his lab at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.
"The summer is almost over", she supplied unhelpfully.
"So?"
"I don't know if I should go back to Hogwarts, or take one of the jobs I've been offered." Somewhere at the back of his mind he remembered that she had talked about the job offers she'd gotten. Of course they were all top notch.
"Why would you want to go back to Hogwarts?" He couldn't imagine ever going back to that place. Not after the war, not by himself, not without Fred.
"One more year of just doing what I do best", she muttered, but her face hardened. He knew that look, he knew that he had looked like this for weeks, no, months, on end. "Bu-but I don't think I can. My f-friends d-died in-in front of me." Her voice caught in her throat, and she swallowed hard. She turned her face to the side, because she didn't want George to see. Him of all people she shouldn't be talking to about this. It was ridiculous. He had lost so much more than her, yet here she was on the verge of tears.
Somewhat reluctantly George moved over to the sofa, and sat down next to Hermione. He did the same thing he did when Ginny came to him in tears, and pulled Hermione onto his lap, holding her close. The younger witch tensed up for a second, before relaxing into his form and crying her eyes out. He wondered how long she'd been bottling that up, and why she hadn't talked to Harry, Ron, or Ginny about it. Well, no, he wasn't surprised she hadn't talked to Ron about that. That git.
"I'm sorry." Her hiccuping sob came out of the sudden, and he tilted his head slightly to one side.
"What for?"
"Fo-for losing it like this", Hermione sobbed and looked up in his face. "You-You've lost mo-more than the rest of us, ce-certainly more than me, but I'm crying on yo-your shoulder. A-and Harry, and Ginny, and Ron seem to be fine..." George's arms tightened around the girl, and he sighed.
"Ginny actually comes here pretty regularly when you aren't around, and has a good sob, too." The girl in his lap seemed startled. "No idea how Harry and Ron deal with everything, though. And well", he shrugged, "I don't actually mind. I've dealt with it the way I can, even if it's in the least healthy way possible." Hermione looked at him, really looked at him, and for a few seconds she could see how pained he actually was.
"Why - ?" He never let her finish her question, abruptly cutting her off, "I can't talk about it, Hermione. About him. Pushing it as far away as possible is the only option for me." She could feel his body tremble, all his strength necessary to not fall to pieces again. No more questions, no more nagging. All she did was turn in his lap, so that she was straddling him, and hug him. For a long time they didn't move, and just held each other.
###
In the end, Hermione did go back to Hogwarts, and although she still visited him regularly, without him ever finding out how exactly she managed to sneak away, considering all passages had been closed off, something was different. Her visits had become less of an annoyance, and something he rather looked forward to. Whenever she came, she brought butterbeer, and some food from the Hogwarts kitchen. They'd have a late night snack in the lab, and she told him about how school was going. From time to time, she'd also help him with the invention of a new product, or suggested ridiculous new products he'd never be able to make. Again and again her wit stunned him, especially when she, within minutes, found solutions to things he'd been stuck on for weeks. Her sense of humour was much more subtle than his own, but he learned to recognise and, if he was honest with himself, appreciate it.
Good friends, that's what they were, and then Hermione and Ron started things up again. He didn't understand. She had told him rather casually one day that Ron had asked her out once more, and that she had accepted. It made no sense to him. She had been waiting for a response for him, but to him it had felt as though a bludger had hit him in the chest and forced out all the air. After a confused moment or two, he had smiled, "Great, I hope you two enjoy yourself." The vivid image of just how they'd enjoy each other made him want to throw up. Obviously the only reason for that was that he didn't want to imagine his younger brother in a situation like that. It was in no way related to Hermione.
Lock it all up, and throw the key away.
###
"I can't believe you!" Bemusement obvious on his face, George turned to his younger sister, who had just stormed into his room. A few days ago she had returned from school, anxiously awaiting her N.E.W.T. results. Hermione was back in The Burrow as well, but she spent as much time as possible with Ron it seemed. That time was pretty limited, though, because his younger brother, just like Harry, had been part of the Auror Programme for the last year, and they worked their arses off.
"Sorry?" He had no idea why his sister had yelled at him.
"You're so daft, and people say Ron's the stupid one out of all of us. Why on earth didn't you tell Hermione not to get back together with that git?"
"He's your brother, too, you know?"
"And he's a git. Clearly not the one for Hermione, and this will only end in tears. Who knows if they'll ever be able to be friends after that?" Words escaped the wizard, something that had happened very few times in his life.
"Don't just stare at me like that! Why didn't you tell her that you liked her?" George almost choked on his tea, before he raised his eyebrows at his sister.
"She's nothing more than a friend."
"That's just not true. You were a right bastard to everyone but her after she and Ron went out again."
"I was just annoyed because she's clearly too good for Ron."
"And she wouldn't be too good for you?"
"Of course she would be, but I don't want to be with her anyway." Ginny shook her head, walked the few steps over to her brother, and took his face in her hands.
"You listen to me. In my opinion Hermione only agreed to go on the date with Ron because he has been badgering her for ages after she went back to Hogwarts. She didn't tell you that he was bothering her like that because he's your brother, and she thought it would be awkward for you. And she likes you, she really, really does. With all the sneaking around at night, she has gotten in trouble quite a few times in Hogwarts." George took Ginny's hands, holding them in front of his chest.
"Thank you, Ginny, but Hermione is one of my few friends. Besides, she and Ron seem to be happy, even if it didn't start out so perfectly." He let go of his sister's hands, and turned around. At some point, he would have to have a little chat with Ron about how to treat women properly, George decided.
"Right. Be that way", Ginny huffed, storming out of his room again in a mood just as bad as the one she had entered with.
###
"Congratulations!"
Bill and Fleur had never looked as happy as when they finally announced to the family that Fleur was pregnant. The French witch was 3 months along, without any sign of a baby bump yet, but touching her stomach protectively now and again. George was truly happy for his older brother and sister-in-law, and the following celebratory dinner was one of the most joyous occasions since the war for him. It felt like something heavy lifted of his chest, and he honestly laughed and joked with the rest of the family over food and drink. When his mother was dishing out dessert some family friends showed up, seating arrangements had to be adjusted, and he ended up next to Hermione, squished to the witch's side. Ever since Ginny's lecture he had felt off around Hermione, but had tried his best not to show it. Luck seemed to be in his favour, because even though they still lived in the same house, they didn't actually get to spend that much time together. Most of the time he simply went off to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and if Ron wasn't around Harry and Ginny often wanted some quality time with Hermione instead.
"Have you been avoiding me?" George had been deep in thought about the witch sitting next to him, and was slightly startled when it registered in his brain that she'd asked him a question. Glancing over at her, he saw her smiling, and realised she was joking. He grinned lopsidedly.
"Nah, but you've been hiding from me, haven't you? Awfully rude of you, really." Her laughter was infectious, and he chuckled at her.
"No, but really, we haven't had much chance to talk properly. There's so much I have to tell you about." He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. There was something in her voice that made him curious.
"Like what?" he prompted, but she shook her head.
"Not at the table. It's Bill and Fleur's night."
"Psh, them, as if they're not gonna pop out some more babies after this one." Hermione had a stern look on her face, and lightly slapped his arm.
"Rude!" she complained, although he could tell she more or less agreed with him, "Just come on. I'd like to get some fresh air anyway, and everyone else seems busy." She wasn't wrong. Looking around the table he could see everyone in discussion, joking around, laughing, or simply enjoying the food. Harry and Ron seemed to be talking about something concerning their job across from them, Ginny was talking to some of Bills friends about curse-breaking, and the happy couple was talking to the biggest group of people, including his parents. To his amusement, Percy had found some poor bloke to 'make highly important connections for the ministry with' as he would most likely put it.
"Fine", George finally agreed. Without being noticed the pair of them stole out of the kitchen, into the garden. The air was warm, filled with the sounds of bugs, and there was still a bit of light from the setting sun. Not stopping to stand in the garden, George grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her along. An idea had crossed his mind, and wanted to show her a place where the Weasley children had played when they were younger. Back then he hadn't had any idea how good their life was.
"Where are we going?" The obligatory question made him chuckle darkly.
"You'll like it. It's close to where we usually play Quidditch." Albeit quiet, Hermione's interest was clear in her features he could just make out in the little light that was left. After walking quietly for a while, they reached the trees where they had had their first twig wands, where Percy had broken an arm after falling from a tree, where they had once tried to build a tree house. George smiled sadly remembering all those lazy days.
"You used to play here?" Hermione asked, looking around, and identifying several trees as perfectly climbable.
"Yeah, childhood memories." George sighed, walked to an especially big tree, and sat down leaning against it. Hermione plopped down next to him and petted his hand lightly.
"I do like it." Smiling, she took out her wand and cast a spell that sent a good dozen tiny lights up in the air, casting a soft light on them and their surroundings.
"Fancy", George commented, chuckling, "Sooo, you've got some big news to tell that would completely steal the thunder of Bill and Fleur? Are you becoming Head Mistress of Hogwarts? I think anything short of that wouldn't be enough. It's my mum's first grandchild after all. Come to think of it, also my first niece or nephew." The way she laughed again made it difficult for him to not stare at her.
"Not quite, but the current Head Mistress is probably going to give up her teaching post as Transfiguration Teacher within the next year or two." Something in her voice and the way she looked at him made him furrow his eyebrows in thought. After a few seconds he lit up.
"Let me guess, she'd like you to become her protégée." Hermione blushed, but was so obviously pleased and nodded. George grinned, amused, and honest, and open, and almost the same as before the war.
"Congratulations! And to think that her favourite pupil almost didn't return to Hogwarts." Again a nod from Hermione, and he couldn't quite make out what else there was in the look she was giving him.
"If you hadn't asked what was wrong I don't think I would have gone back. Thank you." George shook his head.
"You don't have to thank me for that. I hate to admit it, but you being around me all the time has really helped me." He could feel a blush creeping up his neck and felt pretty ridiculous about it. He wasn't 15 any more, and this was his brother's girlfriend after all!
"Oh, well, still..." The silence settling between them felt thick and uncomfortable, made the summer air seem too warm even at this time of day.
"Hermione, have you told Ron?" George's quiet voice finally broke the silence, but he sounded odd to her, and the question itself confused her even more.
"No, not yet. He was so excited with Bill and Fleur's news, and he's been so tense with his job lately. I wanted him to enjoy himself tonight." George ran a hand through his hair, dishevelling it, before jerkily getting up, and pacing around. Hermione didn't know what had gotten into him, couldn't quite fathom why he'd ask her about Ron, now of all times, and so all she could do was wait for an explanation. All the while she had to try to fight the urge to get up and wrap her arms around George, relieve him from whatever caused him this unrest.
"Why? Why tell me first, though? Bill's my brother as well..." His eyes bore into hers, and the intensity of his look sent a shiver down her spine. If only he looked at her like that in a different situation. Realising what she was thinking, she lowered her eyes and tensed up.
"We're friends, aren't we?" He almost couldn't make out the words, and some part of him wished he hadn't. Friends, yes, why was he even making such a fuss? He didn't want to be with her, she was too good for him. It didn't matter that he wished he could kiss her, hold her, simply be with her. Finally looking at him again, it was so plain to see what exactly their problem was.
"No. No!" She had made the wrong decision after all. It was so obvious, so painfully obvious, so easy to tell that Hermione had been too quick to give up on George. "I should get back." Breathless and unable to stay with the red-head any longer, Hermione hurriedly got up. Not once turning back she made her way back to the house, and all George could do was stare as she took off. Once she was out of sight he let his fist connect with a tree trunk, but the pain wasn't strong enough to out-do the heartache he was feeling. This couldn't possibly end well.
###
Not much later Hermione and Ron broke up. She also moved out of The Burrow, and cut herself off from the Weasleys, the only exception being Ginny. George knew that she needed the distance, but it still hurt that the witch had vanished from one day to the next. It wasn't like Ginny was much help, only rarely telling him about how Hermione was doing, which was still more than Ron got from their sister. The git didn't even know that Hermione had moved into one of the rooms for the teachers at Hogwarts, didn't know that she had started learning the ropes of teaching from McGonagall, didn't know that she was feeling awful.
Then again, Ron himself was miserable, and George felt nauseous whenever he was around his younger brother. The tiniest part of him was glad that Ron and Hermione had broken up. It was the same part that insisted he had a real chance with Hermione. None of his feelings were becoming any less real, and at the same time, he could never hurt Ron like that. This was pulling him apart, driving him mad, slowly destroying whatever he had rebuilt of himself.
It still took him weeks to finally cave in, and seek out Ginny.
"Ginny, we need to talk", George grumbled as he entered Ginny's room. His sister looked him over once, then smiled mischievously.
"Finally! Are you pulling your head out of your arse?"
"But I can't do that to Ron!"
"Have you looked at Ron recently? He's getting over her just fine, and you know, you could just talk to him about it?" George shook his head, and sat down next to Ginny on her bed.
"I don't think he'd take it well."
"Of course he wouldn't, but if you want Hermione, you'll have to talk to him sooner or later. Only a question of time, really, until you can't stand it any more, isn't it?" He knew that deep down she felt sorry for his situation, and that she was right, but her words still annoyed him to no end.
"Fine, don't help me!" he snapped, leaving her room for the sanctuary of his own again. Pacing around, and thinking about how he'd best talk to Ron about this didn't help him one bit, because he had no idea what to say. Hey, mate, really sorry to bother you when you're still trying to get over her, but could I ask out Hermione? Yeah, right. And he needed his brother's acceptance – he doubted he'd ever get Ron's approval –, before he could even start thinking about what to say to Hermione. He plopped down on his bed, arm thrown over his face, groaning. Hadn't his door opened almost the exact same moment, George would have kept mulling things over for hours.
"Oy, ever heard about knocking?" he muttered before turning his head and seeing Ron stand in the doorway. George's expression hardened for a second as Ron raised his eyebrows.
"Ginny said you wanted my help with something for the shop." Oh, he'd get her for that at some point, but right now Ron seemed to be waiting for a reply. In his head, he went through all the new products that still had to be tested and that Ron could potentially help with. Sitting up, he ran a hand through his hair.
"Yeah, well, just if you don't have anything better to do. It'd be good to have another person to test on besides me", he said, "Most of the stuff has been tested on me already, so there shouldn't be any too bad side-effects." Ron furrowed his brows.
"Isn't Lee normally helping you with that sorta stuff?" George sighed, shrugging. "Yeah, never mind." Had George really wanted his help, he would have nagged him more, and recently Ron had noticed that George was rather haggard-looking. Hadn't he been so preoccupied with his own heartache, and his job he would have already done... something. He didn't quite know what, but he would have come up with something.
"You miss her, too, don't you? I really don't get why she's not talking to you either." George's head snapped up, and he stared at Ron. "What?" Ron shrugged, taken aback, almost looking sorry for voicing an opinion of his own. "Hermione of course. It's why you've been so out of it lately, right?" Heart hammering in his chest, George felt like he was about to throw up. He had never expected Ron to notice.
"I... I... Yes." His family was all he had, how could he seriously consider having this talk? "I didn't realise how much she really means to me until recently." He balled and unballed his fists, still had no idea what to say next. "If you... Would you be against me asking her out?"
"Come again?" George had been a lot more direct than he had wanted to be, but at the same time, he couldn't keep it in any longer. Even so, he didn't dare look at his younger brother.
"Would you be against me asking her out?" He expected a fist to connect with his face within the next few second, expected anything but what happened. Ron laughed. Not his usual laugh, not the deep, happy rumble that often filled the kitchen, no, a bitter laugh that was completely atypical for the young wizard.
"So there was something going on between you two!"
"No! The closest we ever were to anything happening was when I comforted her before she went back to Hogwarts", George tried to defend himself, although he knew that it was too late for that now. Whatever Ron threw at him he should take it, but that wasn't like him, not even in this situation.
"As if I'd believe that now. She said it was because she just didn't feel the same way about me as I did about her, but really! You two must have been shagging for months!"
"Maybe you should believe what she says. I've never even kissed Hermione, we've not done anything wrong."
"Why should I believe that?"
"Think about it! If we had been shagging already why would I be so miserable now?"
"She probably dumped you, too, because you're a bloody wanker, who screws his family over." The two of them were standing right in front of each other now, both fuming. "We were all there for you when Fred died, and this is what you do? Go behind my back, and shag my girlfriend?" As soon as the words had left his mouth, Ron knew he had crossed a line that he had never meant to cross.
"Don't you dare drag Fred's death into this", George growled, trembling, as close to breaking down as he'd ever come since the war. "Don't you fucking dare. Fred and I were like one person, I lost a fucking part of myself, and you have no fucking idea how it feels. How it's felt since then. You have no idea how much Hermione's done for me. She was the one who forced me to get better. She... She..." George had grabbed the front of Ron's jumper, not even realising that he'd done so, and that his brother's anger seemed to have evaporated. His younger brother was completely taken aback, couldn't do anything but stare at George, the older wizard breathing hard. Clenching his teeth, Ron shook his head and removed George's hands from his jumper.
"I'm sorry, ask her out. Ask her out, I promise I'll be fine with it." What surprised George the most was the small smile on Ron's face, and how earnest his words sounded. "I'll meet someone else, come across enough people every day, don't I? But you... You've become a bit of a hermit, haven't you? Would be hard for you to find anyone else, really." Ron chuckled, and George ignored just how much of this was an act put on for him.
"Thanks."
"Nah, just make her happy." Ron gave his shoulder a squeeze, then turned and left the room as quickly as he could. Never again would Ron mention how much he'd really loved Hermione, how much it really hurt to be dumped by her, how much everything in the house, everything in his life, reminded him of her. Hermione was his best friend, and George his brother. Even though he felt betrayed by them, his loyalty to the two of them was stronger than anything else. Now all George had to do was to convince her that he was worth her it.
George, being all alone again in his room, leaned against the door for a while, trying to sort through everything that was going through his mind. He had to get his arse to Hogwarts, and talk to Hermione. Nothing easier than that. Easy peasy.
###
What made it possible for him to get to the castle, and sneak up to Hermione's room was mainly Gryffindor courage, mixed with his own stubbornness. He hadn't thought he'd return to Hogwarts, hadn't thought he'd be able to. However, this was important, and so it was with a sense of pride that he knocked on the door to Hermione's quarters.
"Come in", the witch's voice rang out clearly. She really wasn't expecting him. Only hesitating a second or two, he opened the door, and walked into her office that had personal chambers attached to it.
"Hey, fancy seeing you here", he greeted her, a self-assured smile that was mainly show on his lips. Hermione, who had been focused on the papers in front of her jumped up, and stared at him.
"What are you doing here?"
"Can't I decide that a friend of mine has been ignoring me for long enough, and drop by for a little... chat?" Hermione looked at him suspiciously, and it was clear that she wanted to keep the table between the two of them. For now George complied, but she could see that there was something else on his mind. His accusation had rattled her a little though, and she sighed before sinking back into her chair.
"I'm sorry, of course. Sit down." He did as he was told, but before speaking he took in what her office looked like. In his times at Hogwarts he reckoned he'd seen the office of every teacher, and Hermione's was probably a mix of McGonagall's, and Flitwick's. Books, and parchments everywhere, but there were also a few biscuit tins, and a tea set. It wasn't uncomfortable actually, rather homey, and you could clearly see that it was Hermione through and through. At last his eyes focused on Hermione again, and he realised that she was watching him.
"It's very much like you in here." She snorted and shook her head.
"Thanks, I guess. What did you want to talk about?"
"Why did you cut me out as well?"
"You know why."
"Do I?" he challenged, feeling somewhat restless.
"That night... Something changed, it wasn't just me imagining it."
"I don't think anything changed that night. You probably just noticed for the first time." Hermione actually blushed at this. It made him grin, which only furthered her embarrassment.
"Oh, shut up", was her creative comeback as she got up from her chair and signalled him to follow.
"Come on, I don't really like talking to you here. Makes me feel like you're my student or something."
"Kinky", he teased, and she gave an exasperated sigh, but showed him into her small living room anyway. It didn't look too different from her office, books and parchments everywhere, but instead of a desk with a chair on each side, there was a comfortable looking couch and two armchairs that looked as though they had been stolen from the Gryffindor tower. George sat down on the couch, turning to Hermione as she sat down on the opposite end.
"In all seriousness, though, I didn't mean to hurt you... Or anyone else. Why didn't you tell me?" For a long while he thought about it.
"As Ron so lovingly put it earlier today, I've become a bit of a hermit. You are one of the few people I can stand to be around", he started, then laughed at himself, "And you're too good for me." She stared in disbelief.
"Too good for you? Oh, George, that's stupid. You were an arse for a while, but you're one of the kindest people I've ever met, even with everything that has happened." Completely perplexed he took in her expression, her words, her voice.
"Rubbish", he retorted, trying to not blush like an idiot. She looked at him as though he was an arithmancy problem again, and he was pretty sure that it had been a long time since she had looked at him like this.
"Is not." Her face was flushed, but she held his gaze. She moved into his personal space, lightly touching his cheek. "Never, ever mention this to Ron, but I only said yes to him because I thought you didn't want me, couldn't want me." The truth of her words made him fee l like an arse, because it meant that he had caused her to feel inadequate at one point or another. It was completely unacceptable, and so utterly ridiculous. Burying a hand in her hair, he pulled her face closer and pressed his lips to hers. For a second he was surprised by how right this felt, the next second he couldn't quite focus on the feeling any longer because he had his lap full of Hermione. Even though he had kissed her softly, the brunette instead returned the kiss passionately and in complete Gryffindor fashion, straddling him and pushing close. Her hands found their way into his hair, while his found her bum to squeeze it.
Reluctantly, George leaned back after a few minutes, looking at Hermione's face in front of his. "I feel like I should take you out on a date, or something before this goes any further." For the fraction of a second Hermione looked puzzled, after which laughter filled the room.
"Why's that? I'd much rather have some more of this." A mischievous smile on her face, she ground against him and ran her fingers through his hair. The unexpected motion drew a stuttering breath from George, yet he couldn't stop himself from moving with her. His hold on her arse tightened, and it became somewhat difficult for him to think.
"I just don't want this to be only physical", he said between kisses along her neck.
"It won't be. I want more than that as well", she'd made him look up, look her in the eyes, before reassuring him that this was going to be more than a fling. It was all he needed. His lips found hers again, but only for a few seconds, because Hermione began tugging at his t-shirt. Chuckling, he pulled it over his head, and let it drop to the floor. Mere seconds later it was followed by Hermione's t-shirt, their trousers, socks, and the black bra the younger with had been wearing. At last her knickers, and his bright blue boxers landed on the ground.
"Merlin, you have no idea how often I've thought about you like this", George muttered, hands wandering over Hermione's body, stopping at her breasts, pinching her nipples just hard enough for her to enjoy it. The witch ran her fingers through George's hair, and sighed.
"I like the sound of that", she finally replied, and between soft kisses continued, "I thought of this as well. Didn't think we'd be back at Hogwarts, but I guess not even I can be right all the time." George cocked an eyebrow, and gasped in mock shock.
"You're completely messing up my world view. Here I was thinking you're flawless." Hermione kept herself form laughing, instead nipped at his lower lip, and ground her hips against his again. His hard cock rubbed against her, lovely friction, and she kept going, enjoying the feeling. George moaned as their kisses became sloppier and his hands found their way to Hermione's hips to bring them together harder. This was more than he'd ever hoped for, all that mattered was being close to Hermione, being with her, their bodies connecting again, and again, and again.
"I want you inside me", Hermione moaned when the friction simply wasn't enough anymore, and George was happy to oblige, pushing into her. It had been such a long time since he'd been with anyone like that, and feeling Hermione around him made him realise how close he really was to coming.
"Shit", he quietly hissed, something Hermione didn't miss, but ignored in lieu of moving her hips. She wanted to feel more, had to feel more, it didn't matter to her how long it lasted. "Merlin, Hermione", George panted, trying to hold back, which became more difficult by the second. One of his hands had moved from her hip to her clit, his deft fingers massaging it.
"Feels good", the witch moaned not quite as eloquent as normally as her forehead dropped against his shoulder. George chuckled darkly, but really he just wanted to feel her come, wanted her to get the same kind of release from this as him.
"Fuck!" Hermione bit down on his shoulder, muffling her moans as she rode out her orgasm. "Oh, yes", George groaned as blissful ecstasy flooded his mind after bucking his hips against hers one last time. Everything seemed to stand still, appeared to hang in balance, where all that could be heard were their panting breaths. Sweaty bodies pressed together, and the first to break the quiet was Hermione by placing a soft kiss on George's shoulder.
"Sorry, I have no idea where that came from." George huffed, but gave her a crooked smile. "Always knew you had a wild side to you. I don't mind, though, so don't worry." He kissed her as softly as the first time, and this time Hermione kissed him back the same way. Slow, and soft, and lazy. He wondered if it would always be like this.
###
"Do you think this is a good idea?"
"No, but someone has to test it."
"Does it always have to be you?"
"Are you offering to try?" Huffing and putting her hands on her hips, Hermione gave him a stern look. George had the decency to blush, or rather his ears did. That was more than she got most days. The last experiment, she'd accidentally participated in, still had her dealing with some rather odd side-effects. Hadn't it been for the strong glamours she used while teaching, her students would already be ridiculing her for the brightly coloured patches of hair that just couldn't be dyed.
"Can't it at least wait until after the family dinner? You know how your mum is. She can just tell when you've done something stupid again." George laughed, put the ladle with some kind of steaming potion back into the cauldron, and placed a lid on the cauldron.
"Fine, but only because it's you." A smile tugged at the corners of Hermione's mouth as George walked over to her. When he stood in front of her she gave him a quick peck on the lips, knowing full-well that he wouldn't leave it at that, knowing that he would snog her until they were running late as was so often the case.