Chapter Nineteen

Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading! Another fluff chapter!

Exhausted, Hermione left the library moments before she would have been asked to leave for closing. She had compiled an impressive collection of notes, although she wasn't sure if anything she had recorded would prove useful. Before leaving the fourth floor, Hermione had gathered her notes and hurried to the washroom, where she found a mirror hanging above the ornate, metallic sink basin. She had quickly tidied her hair with a comb she thankfully had stowed in her beaded bag and deemed her appearance presentable.

"Don't be so nervous about seeing George," She commanded, glaring at her reflection in the mirror. "There's no need to feel uncomfortable…he likes you and you like him…not a big deal." She took several deep breaths to calm her rapidly beating heart and tried to feel less uncertain about going to visit George. Nonetheless, she still completed her look with a fine layer of pale pink lip gloss. It helped dress up her casual attire of jeans and a dark blue, short-sleeve top and, oddly, made her feel more confident. Even though she and George had confessed their attractions to each other, there was still a lingering awkwardness that Hermione was incapable of shaking. "How about you treat him like a normal person….that might make you feel better," She suggested wryly to herself. "He's not just someone you like to snog."

Hermione's breathing rate was regular as she left the library and her hands were steady. Evidently, her washroom pep talk had succeeded. She decided to walk to George's building, which was relatively close to the library. The winter sun had long since set, but the walk was well-lit by the paper lanterns that had been suspended above the street. Other than a few patches that had once been snowmen or snow forts, the snow that had once covered the street was gone. Many of the buildings along the walk were covered in strands of blinking lights, providing both illumination and ambience. There was a peacefulness that Hermione wasn't sure whether to accredit to her surroundings or to her own mental state. She was glad that she no longer had to wrestle with concerns relating to George's feelings for her. It allowed her to complete the walk in quietness, simply enjoying her stroll and the decorated street, rather than being distracted by her own thoughts.

By the time she reached George's, Hermione felt less anxious and more excited about the prospect of spending the evening with him than she had felt upon leaving the library. She trekked up the many flights of stairs to his flat. She knew she could merely apparate and be at his door in an instant, but the physical exertion helped clear the fog in her head that had been built up by an entire day's worth of studying. Reaching George's front door, she felt lively and energetic as she knocked rapidly on the clean, white door.

There was no answer and Hermione was momentarily confused as to why George would invite her over and then vacate his flat, until she noticed that a small, piece of parchment had been tacked to the door just below the knob. She pulled it off the door and unfolded the paper, reading what was written on it in George's scrawling printing.

"Mione, I'm on the roof. Join me," It stated simply. Perplexed, Hermione refolded the note and stashed it in the back pocket of her jeans. She tested the door knob and discovered that it was unlocked and let herself into George's flat. Wandering past the living room and along the hall, she made her way to the steep stairs that led to George's roof. The stairs were much easier to climb in her trainers and comfortable jeans than they had been in her New Year's party dress and high heels and Hermione was quickly on the roof. Throwing open the door to the outside, she was shocked at the sight that greeted her.

"George, what is all this?" Hermione sputtered, stepping out into the evening air. The roof was awash in tiny, white lights. A twinkling strand snaked around the perimeter, wrapped around the railing. More lights were suspended in the air, at varying heights, causing it to look as if lights were raining from the clear, evening sky. All sorts of intricately cut trees and shrubs were scattered around the edges of the roof. Hermione wasn't sure if they had been there during New Year's or if George had recently brought them up to the roof. She was sure, however, that he had been the one to decorate all of the greenery with matching tiny, sparkling, white lights. A raised platform was set up at one side of the roof. It was covered in a navy blue blanket with a dozen matching throw pillows. Dishes were laid out on the platform surrounding the blanket and a bottle of white wine was chilling in a refrigerated cylinder.

"Oi, you made it," George laughed from his spot lounging on the blanket.

"Of course I did. This looks amazing." Hermione answered, wandering over to join him. The platform had obviously been enchanted, because instead of feeling like the hard slates of wood of which it was made, it was soft and comfortable. Hermione happily sunk into the plush surface, reclining against several of the throw pillows. "Did you do all this?"

"Well, I figured it was the least I could do for behaving like such a prat."

"It's lovely, George," Hermione sighed contently, leaning further into her small knoll of pillows.

"I hope you don't mind, but I only got fish and chips," George laughed apologetically. "I would have made you something nice if I knew how to cook better,"

"No, that sounds brilliant," Hermione chuckled in return, accepting a generous glass of white wine from George. As she explained the reading she had done in the library that day, George dished her up some of the meal from its paper wrappings. The food was greasy and delicious; exactly what Hermione wanted after a long day of studying. The pair made lighthearted conversation as they enjoyed their dinners. After George finished his food, he placed his dirty dishes on the rooftop beside the platform and extended across the blanket with his head resting on one of the pillows.

"You done there, Mione," He asked with a slight nod at her empty dish.

"I am…it was excellent," She commented idly, placing her dish on the rooftop.

"It should be, I worked terribly hard on it," George joked. "Here, come join me," He added, patting the blanket on the spot next to him. Hermione shuffled along the blanket, stopping right beside George. She stretched out her legs and leaned against one of the pillows, consciously maintaining a sliver of space between her and George. She wasn't quite ready to let their physicality get out of hand again. Even though he had told her that he hadn't merely been interested in her as a shag, she still wanted to hold off on such things until she was certain of the authenticity of his feelings. "I'm awfully glad you came to see me tonight," George shifted so that he was looking directly at her. His blue eyes gleamed with the reflection of the multitude of hovering lights and he was maddeningly attractive in the dim glow.

"I'm glad too," Hermione spoke sincerely. "It's such a lovely night. It's so nice to be outside,"

"It is, isn't it," George answered. "Here, watch this," He picked up his wand from the edge of the blanket and flicked it, causing all the hovering lights to extinguish. Other that the twinkling lights that remained wrapped around the railing and adorning the plants, the only light on the rooftop was provided by the night sky; the moon was particularly round and bright and the stars were in full force on the clear winter night, bringing enough light to the rooftop that Hermione could still easily see George.

"It really is fantastic," Hermione whistled appreciatively.

"You look pretty amazing in the night time, Mione," George smiled appealingly.

"Oh, don't," Hermione chided good-naturedly and rolled onto her back, resting her head against one of the pillows to better gaze at the elaborate and overlapping constellations of stars. She thought for a bit about what she had learned in school about the meaning of the constellations and what they were able to teach about fates and futures, but eventually decided to just shut off her mind and enjoy the beauty of the night sky. George had adopted the same prone position and they lay in silence for some time, their heads nearly touching on their adjacent pillows.

"I think this is one of my favourite things about this building," George quietly observed eventually. "When you're on the roof at this time of night, it's like you're the only one around."

"I know what you mean," Hermione replied. The stillness and the silence of the lofty height were overwhelming. Although she knew that London was directly below her and that she was atop a building populated with many people and families, there was still a certain aloneness found atop the roof. "It's really quite spectacular," She added, almost more to herself than to George.

"I like being up here with you though, Hermione," George said fervently. Shyly, he reached out his arm and looped it around Hermione's head. She knew what he wanted from the action and obliged, feeling comfortable enough to draw nearer to him. Slowly, she shifted her position on the blanket, coming to rest her head in the crook where George's arm met his torso. Neither said anything about their newfound closeness, but by the way George tenderly rubbed her shoulder with his hand, Hermione knew he appreciated it as much as she did. Without really thinking, she turned on her side and laid her arm across George's midsection, continuing to twist her head so that she could gaze at the stars. George's body radiated heat and Hermione felt more comfortable than she had expected tucked in beside him. Even though the lengths of their bodies were touching, the moment felt innocent. Hermione could tell that George wasn't going to attempt to jump start the physicality between them and neither was she. Instead, they just lay peacefully, continuing to observe the vivid display of stars.

"What is this, Hermione," George asked after sometime, tenderly stroking her forearm that she had rested across his chest.

"What's what, George?"

"On your arm," He replied.

"Oh, that," Hermione answered quickly, pulling her arm off of him and covering it with her other hand. The spot that George had noticed was the blemished skin that Bellatrix Lestrange had tattooed with the 'Mudblood' slur. Hermione pushed herself up to a seated position and glanced down at her arm. The pale white lines glowed forebodingly in the dim night light, causing the vulgar inscription to shine eerily from her arm. Time hadn't done much to fade the magical scar, although Hermione had gotten proficient at covering it with makeup.

"I've never noticed it before," George continued in a caring tone as he sat up next to Hermione.

"I know…I try to keep it hidden…I forget sometimes though…when I don't think I'll see anyone…I'll forget." Hermione replied.

"It's not right, Mione…you know that…'Mudblood'…it's a filthy word…a filthy prejudice," His gaze was one of concern. Hermione knew that, even though George had never experienced the hurt of the vulgarity, he knew how offensive it could be to her. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want,"

"There's not much to talk about," Hermione tried to chuckle, but it came out sounding like a cough. "I've been through a lot…this is just something that proves it."

"Who was it?" George asked in a low, shockingly menacing voice. "Who did this to you?"

"Lestrange," Hermione muttered. As hard as she tried to sound flippant the name still made her want to shudder. The image of the evil flashing in Bellatrix Lestrange's eyes was burned into Hermione's memory. There were times when Hermione swore she could still feel strands of Bellatrix's wild hair tickling her shoulder as the ardent Death Eater leaned over her, gleefully torturing her on the cold, stone floor of Malfoy Manner. Just as time had done little to fade the scar, it had done little to fade the pain of the motivations behind its creation. "But Bellatrix is no longer a concern….you're Mum's seen to that," Hermione added with a feigned laugh.

"It's not ok, you know that, right Hermione," George said after a lengthy pause.

"I know,"

"I hope you don't worry that I'll think less of you because you're Muggle born," George added sincerely.

"I didn't even consider that," Hermione always knew that the Weasleys were a rarity in the wizard world: a long standing, purebred family who had no prejudices against Muggle born wizards and witches.

"If anything, you're lucky…you're better off being Muggle born, if you think about it," George continued in a speculative fashion. "It's like you have a better understanding of both worlds. And you might even have a better understanding of the wizard world…since you get to have a fresh perspective. I think that helps. I wonder if it's part of the reason why you're so passionate about the House Elf issue…because you understand a bit about what it's like to be an outsider."

"I've never thought of that in those terms," Hermione responded pensively. She never realized that George had given so much consideration to such matters. Giving her scar one last rub, Hermione sank back into a horizontal position and George shortly joined her. The pair continued to lay side-by-side staring into the night sky at the swirling stars a vast distance above them.

"I almost forgot" – George exclaimed, breaking the silence – "I have something for you,"

"What's that," Hermione asked, propping herself up on her elbows.

"It's just something small," He continued, climbing off the platform. "I'll be right back." He jumped off the platform and ran to the edge of the roof. Hermione saw him bend over to fiddle with something. Shortly he returned to the blanket. "Ok, watch this,"

Soon the stars were no longer visible as the night sky was filled with the spectacular colours of fireworks. Blues, purples, yellows, oranges, reds, and greens filled the night. The lights shattered across the sky in amazing shapes and complicated patterns. They whirled and zoomed, all with precision, all following the outline George had constructed. Hermione gasped as an image of a dragon swooped above her, gradually transforming into a dancing fairy.

"This is amazing, George," She breathed in utter disbelief. "I can't believe you made all this for me,"

"I wanted to…It reminds me of New Year's…besides fireworks are my favourite thing to create," He smiled.

"It's incredible…what will everyone think though?" Hermione questioned. She was sure the sounds of the fireworks could be heard by everyone in the building. The lights were high enough that they would have been seen by most of London, including Muggle London.

"Oh, they'll just think it's a celebration. Most will hopefully just enjoy it," George chuckled, wrapping his arm around Hermione and pulling her into his torso.

"Or be terribly confused by it," Hermione speculated, not removing her eyes from the lights. She was sure that any Muggles witnessing the amazing display would be confounded.

"Oh no…Muggle technology is incredibly advanced," George contended.

"Not this advanced," Hermione whistled as an image of a centaur galloped across the night sky. In awe, she watched the rest of the presentation. The Weasley twins had always managed to create impressive firework creations, but none as impressive as the one George had produced that night. All too soon, it came to an end and only the stars and moon remained in the night sky.

"I'm so happy you came here tonight," George murmured into Hermione's ear.

"Me too," She returned, turning her head and kissing him softly on the lips. He reciprocated her kiss, but neither allowed it to escalate. Their kiss was brief, but special. Hermione knew that it was one created by genuine affection, not mere lust. Contently, she leaned her head again t George's shoulder, continuing to look up into the sky as he held her snugly against his torso. The night should have been chilly, but George had obviously performed a spell on the rooftop to ensure that it remained at a cozy temperature. As a result, Hermione didn't feel that her short-sleeved top was inadequate. She leaned against George, enjoying his warmth beneath her, the comfort of the soft surface of the blanket on the platform and the view above. The sight of the infinite, celestial bodies always made Hermione feel small and insignificant. It was easy to feel lost when viewed in the context of the enormity of the cosmos. However, next to George she somehow felt very much like she belonged at the same time.

Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading! Leave a comment if you get the chance. Reviews are always extremely appreciated!