Chapter Twenty-Two

Author's Note: Thank you very much for reading. Still not mine! Sorry about the delay. Still working through exams and writer's block. Hopefully once the first is over the second will quickly follow!

"Wow, Molly" – Hermione whistled appreciatively, even though she doubted that Mrs. Weasley could hear her at the other end of the table – "You've certainly outdone yourself this time," She said as she admired the hovering cake as it floated past her spot at the long Weasley dining room table. The cake was impressively large; it had to be in order to feed the many people surrounding the Weasley's dining room table for four-year-old Victoire's birthday celebration. Mrs. Weasley had obviously spent considerable time on the birthday cake. It was three levels high and decorated in bright coloured icing: purples, pinks, and blues were fashioned into images of unicorns, castles, mythical birds, and even a giant troll. Mrs. Wealsey carefully guided the cake above the table, bringing it to a stop and letting it land gently in front of Victoire who had been given Mr. Weasley's normal spot at the end of the table in acknowledgment of her special day. Hermione grinned affectionately as the entire family sang the young girl birthday wishes. She then fought giggles at the sight of Teddy – Victoire's best friend and Harry's godson – trying to help Victoire blow out the four candles that burned with multi-coloured flames much to the chagrin of the flaxen haired girl.

"No Teddy…It's my birthday," Victoire squeaked at a high-pitch, quickly blowing out the candles on her own before Teddy was able to assist her.

"Oi, Fred, remember how we used to fight like that at our birthdays," George chuckled from across the long, narrow table from Hermione, glancing at his twin who was seated beside him.

"Sure do," Fred responded with a grin that mirrored George's.

"There was a time when Fred and I used to not get along as well as we do now," George explained to the rest seated at their end of the table as Molly levitated generous pieces of cake to each guest.

"But then we learned to direct all that at other people," Fred completed his twin's thought.

"And we got along swimmingly after that," George laughed.

"Once we found our shared interest of pranking others," Fred smiled.

"Then we had no reason to fight each other," George added.

"Hmmm, and one day your twins will have the same experience, I'm sure," Hermione pointed out good-naturedly to Fred, smiling down at either the sleeping Ethan or Sophie in the red-head's arms.

"Oh no, Soph and Ethan will be perfectly behaved," Fred announced. "They'll take after their mum," He continued, looking fondly at Angelina.

"Until their Uncle George teaches them all his old tricks, that is," George chuckled, lovingly reaching over and ruffling the curls of the resting infant twin in Fred's lap. "Then mum and dad will have a reason to worry, right Soph," He spoke quietly, clearing up Hermione's confusion as to which twin Fred was holding.

"Oh, don't worry…I'm already preparing on how to deal with the negative influence these two are going to get from their Uncle George," Angelina laughed, casting a reproachful look at George. The affectionate gleam in her dark eyes, however, indicated to Hermione that Angelina wasn't particular concerned about the affect her husband's twin might have on her children. Hermione knew that for all George's jokes, he was nothing but a caring uncle.

"Well, what goes around comes around, Georgie," Fred laughed. "You know that anything you teach Ethan and Soph, they'll be teaching to your future kids once you finally settle down," He added with an exaggerated wink at his twin.

"None of that, Freddie…none of that," George cautioned with a careful chuckle. Although he spoke good-naturedly, Hermione sensed an awkwardness in his comment that wasn't typical of the Weasley twin to whom she had grown close to as of late. She wasn't surprised at George's discomfort. The suggestive tone of Fred's comment made Hermione glad that she and George had decided to wait on telling his family about their relationship; she knew that if they were aware, everyone would pester the couple about when they were going to make a more serious commitment. It was obvious that once Angelina and Fred had the twins, they hoped that the other Weasley twin would have children of similar ages.

-o-O-o-

The rest of the morning passed quickly for Hermione. Time at the Weasley's always did. It seemed to her as if she was constantly caught in the middle of several conversations the entire time. Oft times she would be chatting animatedly with Lavender and Ginny about the wedding plans when she'd be pulled away by a question from Harry. Occasionally, George, Fred, or Angelina would want to include her in their conversation. By the time she was finished her slice of cake, Hermione felt as if her head was on a swivel from how much turning and twisting she did in order to participate in so many conversation. While it was tiring – keeping track of everyone – it was also exhilarating; there was nothing quite as enjoyable and refreshing as socializing with the Weasleys.

"Thank you for coming, Hermione," Mrs. Weasley told her as she was leaving. "It's always so lovely to see you. I hope you come around soon,"

"I will, Molly," Hermione assured the older woman, giving her quick but snug embrace. Hermione turned to leave the Burrow. Ron and Lavender had left just moments before her and Fred and Angelina had to leave soon after cake was finished because Ethan had been cranky.

"Oi, hey Mum. I should say bye to you now," George announced from the top of the stairs above the Weasley's landing. "I have to leave now as well," He said as he bounced down the stairs.

"Awe, that's too bad George," Mrs. Weasley said, rubbing her son's shoulder. "I'm so glad you were able to make it,"

"Yah, it was great as always Mum," George smiled, leaning down to gently kiss Mrs. Weasley on the cheek. "Want me to walk you out, Mione?" He added, turning towards Hermione.

"Er, sure…that would be nice," Hermione replied, waiting for George to dig his shoes out of the large pile by the doorway. As Mrs. Weasley wandered back up the stairs, George graciously offered his arm to Hermione. "Let's go,"

"Sounds good," Hermione grinned, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm as George opened up the door for them.

"So, I have a little surprise for you, Mione," George absentmindedly stated once they were outside in the bright light of the crisp afternoon day.

"Oh, what's that?"

"Well…it's nothing much…but remember that book you had in the library?"

"Which one?"

"The one you didn't like,"

"Oh, that awful one?" Hermione questioned with an amused smile. "The House Elves are People one?"

"Yup, that's the one," George responded as they stood on the walk in front of the hosue. "I know you thought it was rubbish and it probably is. But I tracked down the author, Matilda Malvena McGuire. And it turns out she lives in England…In the countryside...and she still really cares about House Elves. So I've set up an appointment so that you could talk to her. If you're interested, I thought that we could go visit her."

"Oh…that's very considerate George," Hermione chuckled. "But I don't know if she'll be any help. That book, if you can call it that, was not particularly well-written. It read at spots like the ranting of a maniac."

"I'm sure she's a bit of a maniac," George laughed lightheartedly. "But you're so rational and clever, maybe a dash of the maniac is exactly what you need."

"Hmm…" Hermione considered his words. "I don't know." She recalled the book and what was written within in and how disdainful she had been of it when she had encountered it in the library. "Remember to always keep an open mind," She had written several months prior in her trusty notebook. She knew at times she could be a bit of an academic snob and wondered if perhaps George was right and she did need to infuse her systematic research with a bit of fiery passion; something she might find from a visit with Matilda Malvena McGuire. "You know what George…maybe that will be wise…why don't we go pay her a visit. I have nothing else going on this afternoon."

"Excellent," George replied with an eager smile. "At the best, you might find something useful…at the worst, we get to take a little trip together."

"Well, that's one way of looking at it, I suppose," Hermione grinned. "I always enjoy a nice jaunt to the country," She laughed, not entirely hopeful that the trip would be particularly useful. Nevertheless, there was something appealing about jetting off at the last minute with George, even if it was only for an afternoon. "So, how are we going to get there? I can't apparate there, I've no idea where it is," She chuckled. Since an important part of apparating was being able to picture the intended destination, it could prove a useless form of transportation for unfamiliar places.

"Me, neither," George replied. "I've been communicating with her via owls only and only have very general understanding as to where she lives. I was thinking we'd fly there."

"Fly?"

"On brooms, obviously,"

"Hmm…George," Hermione hesitated. "I'm not much of a flyer. I've never flown for a considerable distance….I actually don't think I've covered more than just a field,"

"Don't worry, I can take care of that," George volunteered. "Come on," He laughed, shaking Hermione's hand off his arm and instead taking her hand in his. Together, they jogged around the perimeter of the Burrow towards the back yard. Hermione quickly shuffled her feet to keep up with George and ensure that her blue, canvas flats wouldn't fall off into the no-longer frosty grass of the Burrow's yard. Finally, they made it to the back where George drew them to a halt in front of the Weasley's large, wooden, multi-purpose shed. "Just sit tight, Mione," He instructed. Hermione waited while George scampered into the shed, eventually reemerging carrying one of his older brooms.

"That won't be able to carry both of us, will it George?" Hermione asked dubiously.

"Sure it will," George responded with his typical self-assurance. "You have no reason to worry, remember I'm a professional…actually, I am,"

"True," Hermione chuckled. "Ok, well, if you insist…I suppose I have no reason not to trust you,"

"No, you do not," George answered confidently, swinging his leg over the broom. "Well get over here," He beckoned, gesturing for Hermione to join him.

"Alright," Hermione giggled cautiously. She wandered next to George, momentarily unsure as to how she was to mount the broom.

"Kiss for good luck?" George smiled before Hermione had the opportunity to decide how she wasn't to climb onto the broom.

"Good luck?" Hermione murmured. "Don't tell me we need good luck…that will only make me dread this more,"

"Then just a kiss?" George's smile broadened.

"That I can do," Hermione chuckled, bending down to softly kiss George's forehead as he sat on the broom.

"That's it?" George chuckled softly. He took his hands off the broom and balanced effortlessly without holding on to the broom. Reaching up he wrapped his arms around Hermione's neck, pulling her down towards him. The angle was awkward for Hermione and she placed her hands on George's thighs in order to properly bend down to kiss him. Once her lips found his, the uncomfortable stance didn't matter. Gleefully she returned George's kiss, even assuredly sneaking her tongue into his mouth momentarily to increase the passion. She fought a smile as George purposefully ran his hands through her hair. Every time she kissed him, she was reminded anew how much she enjoyed the feeling of his lips on hers.

"Wow, Mione," George muttered appreciatively after Hermione had pressed her tongue into his mouth, wrestling with his for position. "Now I'm kind of thinking we should scrap this little field trip entirely and instead just head back to my place..." His eyes flashed with desire, but with his laidback tone and nonchalant smile, Hermione wasn't entirely sure if he was serious or merely teasing her or both. Hermione resisted the temptation to comply with his suggestion on the off chance that he was teasing.

"I think you went to a lot of work to arrange this for me…and you've finally gotten me on board…so I think it's best we go check out what Matilda Malvena McGuire can offer." Hermione smiled in a way she hoped seemed rather seductive. "Always leave them wanting more," She reminded herself.

"Fine, Mione, fine," George grinned, shaking his head in an exaggeratedly regretful manner. "Hop on then," He continued, sounding significantly more upbeat.

"Ok." After a brief pause, Hermione decided to sit sidesaddle on the broom shaft. Grabbing onto George's shoulders, she gingerly sat onto the broom behind George, worried that the hovering broom wouldn't be able to support her weight. Fortunately, it remained suspended at the same distance off the ground, seemingly undeterred by the added load of Hermione sitting on the back.

"Ready to go?" George asked, glancing back over his shoulder.

"Ah, one sec," Hermione advised. She quickly slid her canvas ballet flats off her feet and stowed them in her beaded back that was looped over her torso. "I don't particularly fancy losing my shoes," She chuckled nervously. Even with George's assurance that he was an expert flyer and that she had nothing to worry about, flying still made Hermione uncomfortable. Images of the worst possible scenarios flashed through her mind as she moved her hands to George's waist. Grasping on as tightly has she could, she pulled herself up the broom until she was pressed snugly against George. "Ok, I think I'm ready."

"Alright, hold on tight," George suggested needlessly; Hermione's grasp was already as secure as possible.

"Ok, let's go," Hermione yelled with a forced confidence. George effortlessly kicked off against the grass and they soared up into the sky. As they ascended at a rapid pace, Hermione shut her eyes and held tight to George, burying her face into his back and entwining her fingers through his belt loops. It wasn't until she felt their plane level that Hermione finally opened her eyes. Looking down at the vastness beneath them, Hermione was shocked to see London so far in the distance that it resembled like a toy city. The streets and cars were still visible, but they hardly looked life-like, they were so small. From their shockingly lofty height, Hermione felt as if she could see all across the county. She even noticed the seaside and the rolling, white-capped waves of the ocean. The different colours of the country fields beneath them were spread out like a patchwork quilt. The distance was dizzying and Hermione once again pushed her face into George's back, content to look at the grey cotton of his shirt rather than taking in what laid below. With her eyes centred on George's back, Hermione didn't have to acknowledge how truly high off the ground they were and how devastating a fall from that distance would be.

"You doing all right, Hermione?" George turned his head and yelled from in front of her. Much of his voice was lost in the rushing wind and Hermione could only barely hear him.

"I think so," She intentionally chuckled, hoping to mask her trepidation.

"We won't be much longer," George reassured. "Just keep holding on,"

"Ok," Hermione replied to his back. As intimidating as the flight was, Hermione was glad that she was completing it with George. His body was warm next to hers and served as a shield from the chilly air that they were rushing through at breathtaking speed. Also, the way he was sitting on the broom was so light and casual that it encouraged Hermione to ease up a little on her grasp, knowing that she needn't be so tense; George had it all under control.

After they had been flying for a mere half-hour, but what felt much longer to Hermione, George expertly began to guide the broom into its descent. Hermione gripped his waist as they gently landed on the grass. Immediately, Hermione hopped off the broom, grateful to have her feet on solid ground. She still felt a lingering dizziness from the flight and it took a moment until she felt entirely secure upon the ground.

"Wait up, George," She instructed, noticing that George was pointing towards a dilapidated old cottage that lay ahead of them.

"You alright, Mione," He asked. Hermione nodded as she riffled through her beaded bag, easily finding her canvas shoes and sliding them onto her feet. "Ready to go?"

"Yup," Hermione answered brightly, accepting George's hand with hers.

"So, that wasn't so bad, was it?" George smiled, leaning down to kiss Hermione on her cheek. "You were quite a great passenger actually,"

"Oh, really? Because I'm pretty sure I just sat there," Hermione responded cheekily.

"But you sat there very well indeed," George chuckled, hoisting the broom over his shoulder and beginning the walk towards the cottage.

"Well…good to know," Hermione smiled. Her demeanor was rapidly improving ever since she had gotten off the broom. Even though she was mainly doubtful about George's suggestion that Matilda Malvena McGuire might be helpful for her work, she was still excited about the adventure of it all. Quickly they approached the cottage. Hermione was sure that the small, house had seen significantly better days. The brick of the walk was chipped and cracked in multiple places. Most of the shutters had fallen off the cloudy windows and the roof looked as if it could use a serious touch up. The door might have once been a vibrant red, but it was now a dull rust colour. The only thing about the residence that wasn't ramshackle was the garden. The garden was filled with vivid flowers of a wide array of colours. Tulips, pansies, daffodils, rhododendrons and lilacs filled the area around the house. Everything was organized perfectly, ensuring a visually appealing colour palliate. No flower was out of line and not a single weed was visible. Hermione was sure that Ms. McGuire – while she may not care about the appearance of her house – was quite meticulous about taking care of her garden.

"Well, shall we?" George asked, motioning to Hermione that they should continue up the fractured walk.

"Alright," Hermione agreed, ambling up the walk, George still by her side. Reaching the house, she lifted her fist and knocked on the peeling paint of the old door with three solid raps.

Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading. Please take the time to leave a comment or a suggestion. It's always awesome to hear feed back! And I love being able to incorporate suggestions whenever I can!