"So…what do you think?" George asked, drawing on a piece of parchment. Hermione glanced over at what he had down, instead of a business plan; it was a scribble of what was a bushy haired stick figure beating another stick figure over the head with a mallet that read boredom. Hermione looked over at him, clearly not amused.

"George Weasley! You were supposed to have come up with a business model for the store, you know budgets, new hires and all that." She stood up and walked over to a bunch of shelves and pulled out her stack of parchments, and began to order them. "Now what I've come up with is a schedule for the next four months, and then we'll be open for the holidays. So as soon as kids start coming back, what will they see in Diagon Alley! Your joke shop reopened. Now before we get to the fun stuff we—" She stopped short when she glanced over at him, and he seemed to be doing one large interpretive dance, aping her mannerisms and speech. She crossed her arms, and looked at him crossly. He stared at her and smiled mischievously. He rolled his eyes and handed her a roll of parchment.

"Here, I finished it last night," he said, "this was the part I was good at. I just tweaked some suggested prices and figures but all in all, the business model will be the same," he said. Hermione sighed and sat down. She rubbed her head in her hands.

"Then why—" she began, "why—"

"Did I lie to you?" George concluded. She nodded taking a large swig of her water. He shrugged. "It's fun seeing you worked up. Your nose crinkles up," he winked. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"So what next?" She asked. George shrugged.

"I dunno, you made the bloody schedule!" He said. She pulled out her schedule and read through it.

"Well, it looks like we're done for the day," she said, "I thought this model would take much longer than it did, so we could start on tomorrow's work and just be early, and have a couple days before we open shop in a few weeks, or take a break now." She knew the answer before he even said it.

"Break." They both said at the same time.

"So same time tomorrow?" George asked. Hermione nodded. "What's tomorrow?"

"Inventing," grinned Hermione. George grinned.

"Now that sounds more like it!" He exclaimed leaping to his feet, "finally, none of this business crap. Oh boy, would I hate to do that all my life," he said. Hermione laughed as she put on her jumper and proceeded to check her bag. Over the past few days they had poured over paperwork, reopening the shop after the war turned out to be a greater undertaking than they thought. Since George had been closed for so long, they required a brand new application for the store. Finally the last part they needed to get a bank loan was finished, they could begin working on the fun stuff.

"Oh remember, we have the meeting at Gringott's tomorrow, so have some nice clothes out." Hermione said. George smiled as she began to leave. Suddenly she felt his hand wrap around her wrist. She stopped and turned around.

"What?" She asked him. He grinned. He seemed to be doing that a lot these days, but while it may have seemed superficially that he was grinning, there was dullness in his eyes. One that Hermione feared would never leave. He did not let go of her hand.

"Look, it's seven, first time we're done before midnight. Let's celebrate the first part as a victory. You, me, Emperor's Pub down by Tottenham Court Road," he said, "Out in Muggle London." Hermione glanced down at what she was wearing.

"Okay, but I need to pop home for a bit and shower and change. I feel nasty. I will meet you in front of the Cauldron in an hour then," she said. George nodded. He waved as she apparated away. He sighed and sat down in a chair.

"Well Fred, here's to you," he said. He walked upstairs and looked in the mirror. His face was a mess, his stubble almost grown into a full beard, his hair was long and matted. His eyes looked terribly sunken in, and his clothing seemed to carry a musky smell. This was the first time he had been bothered by his outward appearance and was appalled that this was how he had presented himself to Hermione for the past few weeks. He turned the shower on, and thirty minutes later he had shaved, and kept his hair rather manageable. It had grown over the scar tissue that remained over his ear, effectively hiding it, but it did not suit him. He did not like his hair long at all, yet he hated the stares people gave him every day.

"Concealment charm?" The mirror offered. George shook his head, but thought. The curse did not allow for regeneration, but a concealment charm? Why hadn't he thought of that before? He cast a simple one for tonight, combing his hair back and putting into a low ponytail in the back. A trip to the local barber's would be necessary tomorrow morning. He then found an old bottle green button down shirt, which he wore with khaki pants. Overall he was rather happy with this new appearance. He checked his watch, he had ten minutes to head to the front of the Leaky Cauldron, plenty of time. He checked his appearance several more times, ready to go back out into society and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry Fred," he said passing his brother's room on his way out from the bathroom, "It's just—I need to try and move on." He opened the front door and apparated to the back entrance of the Leaky Cauldron. Thankfully there was a rather large crowd enjoying themselves, so he managed to push his way through without being noticed. He made it to the muggle side and exited into the cool fall air. He saw Hermione standing there.

"Blimey," he said, "You look like—well like a girl!" Hermione laughed at the compliment and she stared at George. Her eyes widened as she realized how normal he looked, and then she noticed his ears.

"George," she said pointing. "Wha—what—your ears!"

"Concealment charm, pretty simple," said George. Hermione nodded. She hugged her cream-colored cardigan closer to her body. He looked at her; she was wearing a blue heavy silk dress that ended just above her knees. The cardigan was cream but it had dark blue flowers matching her dress, complementing it perfectly. This was the first time he had noticed her in a completely different capacity, his heart started thumping wildly.

"What?" She asked. Even her hair looked less frizzy, her simple and classy makeup matched her personality, naturally beautiful, thought George. He felt a side of him he hadn't felt in a long time, the urge to flirt, but he withheld. This is your brother's girlfriend, stay away, said the tiny annoying voice inside of his head. He hid his currently racing thoughts with a simple smile. He held out his arm.

"Shall we?" He asked. Hermione nodded, linking her arm with his.

"We shall." They both walked a few blocks down, into a side alley and George apparated them to near the pub they were going to. It was a small hidden away pub, unseen at first but then it sort of appeared as they walked towards it. It was down underneath the ground slightly and had a rather friendly appeal. "How did you find this place?" Hermione asked. George shrugged.

"Well when me and Fred wanted to go somewhere and not be crushed by mad crowds of admiring children, we'd come down here. It became a place just to celebrate a new adventure I guess," he winked. Hermione smiled as they walked down the steps. He noticed her shoes, beautiful cream-colored flats that matched her sweater. If he were in any other state of mind, she would be slapping him right there for making an advance. They walked in and big band music began to play, and older couples were dancing on the floor. Hermione recognized the music as Frank Sinatra, and she grinned, this music just made her feel happy and joyful and just hopeful for any sort of future. They took their seat at a small booth in the corner and ordered drinks.

"Gin and tonic," said Hermione placing the drink menu down.

"Iced tea," said George. Hermione looked at him and immediately felt guilty.

"Wait no, scratch the gin and tonic, I'll take the iced tea—"

He immediately stopped her and shook his head. He turned to the waiter.

"She will have the gin and tonic." He said. The waiter turned and left.

"You didn't have to, now I feel bad." She said.

"Just because I can't currently drink, does not mean that you have to suffer. You're forced to endure my company, so you might as well enjoy it," he said. She blushed.

"So do you come here often?" She asked grinning. George smiled.

"It's really the best place to get away from it all," he said, "At least during the war, this was one place that always seemed happy no matter what." He grinned. Hermione bounced along with the music. "Why?" George asked. Hermione shrugged

"Just seems really old fashioned," she said leaning forward onto the table. "Like somewhere my grandparents would come on a regular basis." George laughed.

"That's what's great about this place, although there are older people, young people, especially girls come here just to dance without being groped." He winked. Hermione's lips pursed as she realized the true nature of the twins' excursions. Hermione sighed and shook her head disapprovingly.

"What?" George asked, "Its pretty perfect. We'd be each other's wingmen and then meet women and if we never wanted to see them ever again, we could 'magically' disappear, as it were," he laughed. Hermione groaned at his pun as their drinks arrived.

"You, sir, are a terrible person," she said playing with the straw of her gin and tonic. The music slowed down to a slow moving romantic son as their conversation lulled. Hermione took this time to take a good look at George. While the concealment charm did not cover the gaping hole, it managed to draw attention away from it, so if one were not even looking for it, they would only see two ears. It was extremely clever, she thought. His hair was tied back, and she could finally see his face, one that had been hidden by the scraggly beard. While his eyes did not contain any sort of happiness, and they still seemed full of grief, there was something else that she couldn't place. She looked down at her glass when she realized that she was staring quite intently.

"Have you heard from Ron?" He asked. Her head snapped up.

"He's sent me a few letters, he's just so busy with training that he does not have time to really send me anything. Last letter he sent was about four lines, just said he missed me and hoped he could see me soon," she said. George nodded.

"When is he coming back?" He asked.

"Well two weeks right now, for a week," she said. George smiled, and felt a little bit of a twitch in his stomach. He was jealous of his younger brother? How was this possible? Sure Hermione had become the biggest part of his life, but how could he be jealous of his little brother's girl?

"So I take it you guys are going really well?" George asked. Hermione nodded, but he wasn't sure if it was just the sheer hope in his heart that was building, but he noticed her heart was not at all behind her affirmation. He smiled awkwardly and took a sip of his iced tea.

"D'you want to dance?" George asked her after a little bit. Hermione nodded.

"I would love to," she said. He jumped out of the slightly elevated booth and held out his hand. The music changed from slow to slightly faster, as Dancing Cheek to Cheek began to play. Hermione let out a laugh as she and George began to dance. He had his hand on the small of her back, she had hers on his shoulder and they both began to sway.

"What?" George asked.

"My grandparents' first dance," said Hermione, "After they got married." George smiled as he twirled her around. Hermione squealed in joy. "I didn't know you knew how to dance!" She exclaimed. George nodded.

"I could say the same about you," he said. "Where and when did you learn?"

"Well, before the Yule Ball, we had those lessons," she said, "And well, I had so much fun, when me and my parents went to go visit my grandparents before their wedding, we took dancing lessons." She smiled. He twirled her around again, watching her dress flare up and show a bit of her thigh. He mentally slapped himself. "Your turn," she said.

"What?"

"Where did you learn how to dance?" She asked. George looked around.

"Well, I mean, it's a prerequisite for coming here," said George, "How would I be if I stumbled across the dance floor, fell flat on my face, held up my hand and said, 'Hello, I'm George, care to "fall" in love with me?'" He laughed at his own joke. Hermione pushed him softly and he clutched his shoulder in mock pain. "Abuse! Woman, you need to stop that!" He exclaimed. Hermione shook her head as the music came to a close. They all clapped for the band and headed back to their booths where they asked the waiter for refills on their drinks. They continued to talk about everything and nothing, each forgetting the outside world with each drink.

"And then there was just this loud explosion, and all I remember is laughing hysterically, and me and Fred were sprawled in the hallway and Umbridge was suddenly bright purple." They both laughed hysterically.

"I don't remember this happening," said Hermione. George shook his head and stared down on the faint scar on the back of his hand. He held it out.

"Evidence of my war against the machine," he said in his best victorious soldier's voice. Hermione held his hand and looked carefully at the faded scar on the back.

"I must not play practical jokes on people," she read aloud.

"Right painful that one," said George as Hermione stroked it absentmindedly. "Essence of murtlap helped a lot by the way, thank you." He said with a wink.

"No problem," she said tapping her hand on the wood. She stared at George and his drink, he was doing well, not drinking alcohol, for the obvious reason.

Hermione blushed, an obvious effect of the alcohol. She released his hand as they finished their drinks and looked at her watch.

"Well it's getting almost ten, and we have that meeting at Gringott's at noon, so we probably should be heading off," she said. George pulled her wrist and looked at her watch.

"Bloody hell," he said, "It is." He lifted up his hand and waved a waiter over.

"Can we have the check?" He asked. The waiter nodded and promptly left. He leaned over the booth and looked at Hermione.

"What?" She asked. He shook his head and smiled.

"No…nothing," he said pensively. A small smile crossed his face.

"What?" Hermione asked, a little more uncomfortable with the staring. George laughed a little bit to himself.

"I'm just imagining what Fred would say if he knew that you would be helping me re-open my store." He laughed. "Boy I would love to see his reaction. I mean—if I could see his reaction, you wouldn't be helping me out in the first place." He shrugged, "Life is funny like that." Hermione cocked her head as the waiter laid the check down on the table.

She had always noticed this difference about the twins. George always took more time to react, he never spoke much, and he was rather quiet, timid even. Fred always brought out the, well, not worst per say, but the most rambunctious in him. She reached for her purse as George pulled out a twenty-pound note.

"George," she said warningly.

"What?" He asked, "It's on the company." He winked and set his money down. He stood up before her, quickly picking up her sweater which she had laid to her side and helped her put it on. They both exited the pub and entered the streets of London. Because it was a Friday night, the streets were crowded with people. Groups of friends walked side-by-side, chatting; couples walked arm-in-arm, enjoying each other's company, families walked hand-in-hand, laughing as they enjoyed the perfectly calm and peaceful Friday night. Hermione looked around, enjoying the peace. As she did, she hit a cobblestone and stumbled a little, George noticing her misstep quickly placed his arm around her in order to steady her. When she was finally standing steadily, George's arm remained around her. She laughed awkwardly.

"Whoa Nellie," he said.

"That didn't happen," she said as he quickly removed his arm.

"What didn't?" He asked grinning.

"Exactly," said Hermione.

"Whoa Nellie?" She asked, confused at his choice in words. He shrugged.

"Which way do you live?" He asked. Hermione pointed down the street.

"Nearby, actually, couple blocks down, near Covent Garden," she said. They began to walk towards her flat. "I'll be fine, you don't need to walk me," she said.

"I wouldn't be a proper gentleman if I didn't walk you home." He said.

"But—" Hermione began to complain.

"Shh," said George. "I'm walking you and then I'll just apparate from your room back to my flat, plain and simple." Hermione groaned.

"Fine." She said. He took her arm in his and they walked slowly back to her flat.

"So tell me more about this Colonel Brandon," said George, "He sounds oh so fascinating." Hermione stopped walking and smacked his shoulder. George smiled cheekily.

"What?" He asked. Hermione shook her head and continued to walk, not saying anything.

"I'm just trying to make conversation!" He said.

"Git." She stated stifling a small smile. George chuckled.

"Is Harry still going to be here when Ron gets back?" He asked. Hermione nodded.

"Yeah, that's Harry's last week off," she said. "Why?" George turned to her, they both stopped walking.

"Well…" He said "I was thinking…maybe both of us could have a preview sort of party. We'd have a bunch of samples of the new products and of course the popular old ones, and dinner. I could invite some of my best former clients, just to get excitement back up in the shop…and basically it would be a test run."

"Oh!" Said Hermione, "And we could organize a sort of reception afterwards!" She got really excited at the idea.

"And it'd be a proper party, not those horrid wine-and-cheese tasting. I think Fred would actually throttle me from the beyond." George said. She suddenly turned to him at the mention of Fred's name. True he had been telling stories all night about his antics and his brother, but mentioning his present condition was not one that she was used to.

"What?" He asked. Hermione shrugged.

"I dunno," she lied.

"I know he's dead Hermione," he said, "Nothing to do about that…unless you have a time turner on you." He chuckled awkwardly. "I figure the more I say it, the more I'll believe it." Hermione reached over and grasped his hand reassuringly. Initially his hand clenched in surprise, and then it relaxed and reciprocated the gesture.

"Hey," said Hermione. They began to walk again.

"What?" George asked in a sort of restrained voice, choking something back. She turned and looked at him.

"As long as this," she laid her hand on his heart, "is here…he'll always be alive." He sadly smiled.

"What Granger," he said, holding back the welling of emotion, "do you have your own pasturizer?"

"Why?" Asked Hermione.

"Because of all your cheese!" He said. She started laughing, and he joined in alongside her.

"That was terrible." She said. George shrugged. Hermione punched him lightly on his shoulder as they made their way down the street. After a few more minutes, she turned on a side street and then into an alley, and a small door, initially invisible, appeared on the end. She opened the door and they both made their way up the stairs to the third floor and she opened the door to her small flat. George walked in and looked around. The flat overlooked Trafalgar square on one side, and seemed to have a partial view of the Thames.

"Bloody hell," he said. "What a view." Hermione smiled and nodded putting her keys down in a small drawer and going into the kitchen. He heard the water running and Hermione drinking some water.

"Can I get you some tea?" She asked, popping her head through the window that looked into the kitchen. George turned around and shook his head no.

"I should probably go," he said. "Getting late, and we do have the meeting tomorrow." Hermione was leaning against the doorframe into her living room. George walked over to her and hugged her tightly. "Thank you for tonight…and everything." He said. Hermione kissed him quickly on the cheek and he returned the favor.

"No problem. I will meet you at 11:45 in front of Gringott's then?" George nodded hugging her tightly again. He then took a step back and apparated with a loud pop.

===10 years later===

"Malfoy, where were you yesterday?" He said to Draco as soon as he walked into the office.

"Away," said Malfoy curtly sitting down at his cubicle.

"You missed the Robinson family, the Johnson family, the Ericson family, and the Smithson family."

"I'll get them tomorrow along with O'Reilley, O'Donnel, and O'Brien," said Draco, reading his next three off on a list.

"Very well, you better finish on time," said Ron popping his head into the cubicle area. Draco rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath.

"Whatever you say Weaselby," he grumbled. Ron groaned and walked towards his office, clutching the map of New York he had found on Malfoy's desk. He looked at the circled portion that had a question mark on it. He wondered what could have taken up so much of Malfoy's time that he had missed three out of the six families that he was supposed to pre-counsel. He sat down in his spacious office littered with various posters and banners. They all said one thing, Ron Weasley for Foreign Minister. He sighed and looked at the map again, also casting a spell to see where Malfoy had been last. Because of the trace put on him as a part of his parole, and because Ron was his direct supervisor, he could monitor the blond wizard's actions.

"New York?" He was confused, Malfoy's jurisdiction did not spread that far, and the only reason he would have gone to New York was if there was a British family residing there that had a magical child. That way they would have the option of sending their kids to the Salem Academy or Hogwarts. He stood up and began to walk over to Malfoy's cubicle, and then decided better. If he asked that pompous git, there is no way that he would be told the truth. He sighed and made his way to the break room where Harry was sitting and reading the Daily Prophet.

"Hey mate," said Ron going into the fridge and pulling out a bottle of soda.

"Hello Ron," said Harry. "You coming to James's birthday party next week?" He asked.

"Wouldn't miss it," said Ron. Harry grinned as Ron sat down across from him.

"Slow day?" Harry asked.

"Slow day." Said Ron sipping his drink and tapping the wooden table.

"Well elections are coming up soon," said Harry. Ron groaned.

"Why did I ever decide to run for public office? It's way too hard, and I'm almost never home. I haven't seen Parvati in Merlin knows how long. Not to mention Sam and Savi," he said. "In no time they will be going to Hogwarts and of course that's when I will be free from all of this!" He exclaimed. Harry laughed.

"Don't worry, at least it's not Voldemort." He winked and subconsciously rubbed his scar. It didn't hurt anymore; he just felt it twinge a little every time he thought of that past.

"Malfoy's been acting a bit odd lately," said Ron. Harry looked up.

"What did he do now?"

"I dunno, he's just been, well…odd. Like today, he was only supposed to talk to three families, not too hard. He skived them off and ran off to the US…New York to be exact."

Harry cocked his head in confusion.

"Not only that," said Ron, "But he also was mainly in muggle New York, from what I see. I doubt he knows any muggles, so there's something going on." Harry chuckled.

"I'm sure he just dipped down there after someone said they have the best hot dogs." He winked.

"No, no, he had that guilty look on his face," said Ron. "He's up to something, I know it!"

"And you're sure Parvati won't mind helping out?" Harry asked. Ron looked at him quizzically.

"What's going on Potter?" Draco asked going into the break room.

"Just planning James's birthday party," said Harry. "Will you be joining us? I don't think I got an RSVP from you."

"Oh? No, I won't be able to make it. Sorry, Scorpius has dragon pox."

"I'm sorry," said Harry. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Well, see you later Potter," he said turning to exit, "Weasleby." Ron mocked him as he left.

"I don't understand why you're friends with him," said Ron.

"He's served his time," said Harry, "He deserves some semblance of a second chance, I guess. Why do you care so much where he was?" Harry asked. Ron stared at him angrily.

"Because, Harry," he said, "If he cocks up, it's my arse on the line, and not only that, it's foreign minister as well. So I'd rather he didn't." Ron got up and stormed, Harry called his name feebly from the break room, but he didn't turn around. He walked into his office and slammed the door shut. He stared at the map and thought, Where could he have gone? What could he have done? He stood up and decided to apparate to the last place Draco had apparated from, it'd be the only way to figure out his odd behavior for the past three days. He closed his eyes, pulled out his wand and felt the familiar gut wrenching sensation of being pulled overseas. He sighed as he looked down the row of brownstones; no one was on the street. It was around nine in the morning. He looked up the stairs to the brownstone that he had just apparated in front of. He slowly walked up the stairs, feeling an odd sense of foreboding. When he got to the top of the stairs, he saw the list of residents and the calling bells for each one. His heart stopped as he saw the final one.

Granger.

Ahhh! I know, a little on the short side! But stuff happened, both in the past and in the present!! Definitely review, I live on those. Thank you for reviewing to those who have already. And I know there are a LOT of storylines going on. I promise most everything (at least everything important) will come together at the end, please bear with me, and thank you SO SO much for reading! I do this for y'all! :D

I love you guys!!!!!!