Mistaken Identity

- Chapter 2 -


"No! You're mistaken, I'm afraid. My name's not Fred," Morris said in an attempt to defuse the tension he could sense building. He stuck out his hand towards the girl in greeting. "It's Morris, actually. Morris Talliver."


Hermione blinked in surprise, any further rant dying on her lips as she stared at the proffered hand numbly. As the young man's words registered in her mind, her eyes flicked up to search the familiar face. Only... it wasn't as familiar now that she was calmer, and looking at him from a closer angle.

Morris' hair, for one, was not the usual shock of Weasley red, but a rich brown, much like her own, thankfully not frizzy in the least. In fact, it looked almost silky as it fell to his shoulders in thick locks, framing his face. His facial features were familiar, but lacking the smattering of freckles that Fred and George possessed, and also, the eyes were wrong. Instead of piercing blue, they were a warm hazel and Hermione had to fight back a blush beneath their gaze.

"I– I am terribly sorry, Morris, was it?" she said somewhat embarrassed. When Morris nodded, smiling dazzlingly at her, Hermione's heart skipped a beat. It was an achingly familiar smile, more similar to George's than Fred's this time and she couldn't hold back the blush flushing her cheeks.

Bowing her head slightly in an attempt to keep him from noticing her blush, Hermione reached out and grabbed his hand, shaking it as she introduced herself. "I'm Hermione Granger, and I am sorry for the mix-up. You just look like someone– er," she trailed off, pausing slightly before starting again. "I thought you looked like someone I knew. But now that I've seen you up-close, you're not really that similar to him."

All the while she'd been speaking, she had forgotten to release his hand, which Morris noted in amusement. "Here, let me help you up," he said, pulling her to her feet with ease. It happened so suddenly that she stumbled, but Morris placed a hand on her side to steady her.

In turn, Hermione's hands found purchase on Morris' forearm and his chest, both of which she found to be nicely defined. "Sorry about that," he chuckled. "Clearly, I don't know my own strength," he said, and once Hermione was standing on solid ground, he released her and stepped back. The brunette witch felt a pang of disappointment at the loss of contact.

'Okay, this is getting ridiculous!' she thought to herself. 'I've just met the guy and suddenly I'm fancying him?' Mentally, she chalked it up to his being an almost doppelganger to Fred and George. Her old schoolgirl crush on the twins, mainly George, was reemerging and it was seriously messing with her mind right now.

Morris looked around, noticing that all of the club's patrons, including the scout he knew, had been in attendance, had already left.

'Damn it, I didn't even get to finish my set!' he thought, disappointed at the loss of his chance at being discovered yet again. At twenty-six, Morris had dreams of hitting it big on the comedy scene, this being his fourth consecutive night performing at the Comedy Club. He had hoped that tonight would have been the night that changed his life.

He looked back at the pretty young woman standing before him. He could tell that she was younger than him, couldn't be more than twenty years old if that. Not being one to have his head turned by make-up and fancy clothes, Morris appreciated the natural beauty she exuded. She was short in stature, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulders, her body a curvy, womanly shape, not stick-thin like most women thought looked appealing to a man. Realizing that he was staring at her, Morris turned his head, one hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he felt his face grow hot.

"W-would you c-care for a drink?" he stuttered in an attempt to hide the fact that he had been admiring her body only seconds before.

Fortunately, Hermione had been too busy chastising herself for allowing her old crush to influence her, to notice. Morris' abrupt invitation surprised her, snapping her attention right back to him. "Oh, um, that sounds nice. Thank you," she accepted. It was just a guy, after all. 'A guy who looks so much like the twins that he could almost be their triplet...' she thought wistfully.

Hermione allowed Morris to lead her over to a table where he pulled out a chair for her to sit in. "What will it be, Hermione? Your choice," he offered, waiting for her to give him her order so he could go and fetch it.

"Red wine, please," she replied, and Morris smiled at her before turning and heading towards the bar.

While Morris was gone, Hermione gathered her thoughts on the situation she found herself in. Why had she accepted his offer for a drink? Was it just due to his similarities to the twins? No, it wasn't just that. She had never been one to make a big deal over a guy in the past, her sights having been set more on the academic side, than social. Not to mention the string of life threatening situations she got herself into with Harry and Ron, there was simply no time for romance. But for some reason, Hermione found herself wanting to get to know Morris Talliver better.

Morris came back shortly with her wine in one hand and a beer for himself in the other. Sitting the fluted glass down before her, he settled his lanky frame down in the chair closest to hers, his knee slightly brushing hers beneath the table, and once again, Hermione felt a jolt of attraction to the man. In order to distract herself, Hermione took a long sip of her drink.

"So, tell me a bit about yourself, Morris," she said, sitting her glass back on the table. The tension caused by her attraction to him was building, and she was desperate to dispel it.

Morris hesitated for a minute, causing Hermione to frown, wondering if she's said something wrong. Had she overstepped and became too nosy? She was a complete stranger to him, after all, and anyone would be cautious to open up about themselves on a first meeting.

Morris was pleased by her question, as it hinted that she might be interested in him. Why else would she want to know more about him? The problem was what did he tell her about himself? Even though they had just met, he really liked her, but there were quite a few things about his past that he didn't think she would believe, much less understand. Biting his lip, Morris finally decided that a slightly edited version of his life story was in order.

"It'd be my pleasure, Hermione," he finally said with a smirk. "I have the memory of a computerized elephant, so what would you like know?" he asked eagerly.

Hermione laughed softly and shrugged. "Tell me everything," she said with a smile.

Morris returned her smile and with great zeal, he began to speak. His mention of having the 'memory of a computerized elephant' appeared to be no joke as he did indeed proceed to fill her in on everything, from his childhood, all the way up to the present. Twenty minutes later Hermione was realizing that despite the physical similarities, Morris was completely different from the Weasley twins. For one, he was extremely awkward in the few times he had attempted to flirt with her since the beginning of their 'drink date'. Although, as he regaled her with his entire life's story, she became more and more intrigued by him.

Hermione was surprised to learn that Morris was actually attending a local college on a scholarship for Genealogy. He explained that although he planned on acquiring a major in the field, his heart was set on his passion for comedy and becoming a great Stand Up comedian, like some of his idols.

"I love to make people laugh, always have, ever since I was little," Morris explained. Hermione watched curiously as suddenly his eyes grew sad, slowly losing focus, as if remembering something unpleasant. She was about to reach out and ask if he was okay when just as quickly as he had drifted away, he snapped back to reality, shaking his head to dispel the memory and focused back on her.

"Okay, Miss Granger, your turn," Morris grinned at her.

"Um, excuse me?" Hermione blinked in surprise, feigning confusion. How could she have been so stupid? Of course, he would want to know about her as well. Frantically, Hermione racked her brain to come up with a back-story that paralleled her life in the magical world but was suitable for a Muggle to hear.

Thankfully, she was saved from her floundering by Chelsea's return. The petite blonde came waltzing up to their table, sporting a knowing grin directed at Hermione. "So sorry to interrupt, I had a spot of trouble getting away from Rob. I swear that boy has tentacles for arms if you know what I mean."

"Chelsea, I was beginning to wonder if you'd forgotten about me!" Hermione teased her friend, rising to greet her and wrapping her up in a hug for good measure. When she pulled back, she could tell that if she didn't act quickly, then Chelsea would be inviting herself to have a seat and join them at the table.

"Well, Morris, it's getting late and we've really got to be going," Hermione said apologetically.

"But it's only 8:30, Mines." Chelsea protested, but Hermione pointedly ignored her.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, and I am so sorry for disrupting your set with my little case of mistaken identity." The whole time she was speaking, Hermione was grabbing her purse and attempting to shove Chelsea toward the exit.

"That's quite alright," Morris replied politely, a bit bewildered at her sudden need to leave. Had he said something wrong? He swallowed hard as the unpleasant feeling of never seeing Hermione again grew in the pit of his stomach, as he watched the curly haired woman herd her blonde friend closer and closer to the door.

At the last moment, the blonde broke away and quickly made her way back to his table. He watched as she produced a pen from somewhere and scribbled onto a napkin, even as Hermione chastised her from across the room.

"Honestly, Chels, do you have to give out your number now?" If there happened to be a hint of a jealousy in the tone of her voice, Hermione chose to ignore it.

With a quick wink, Chelsea pushed the makeshift notepad in Morris' direction before sprinting back to her friend's side with a giggle. It wasn't until after the two women were well out the door that Morris picked up the napkin and looked at what was written on it. It actually was a phone number, as Hermione had accused. The words 'Give her a ring sometime cutie' had the dark haired comic grinning ear to ear.

Quickly slipping the napkin into his pocket, Morris retreated to the back briefly, to retrieve the notebook in which he kept all of his material for his acts, and left the club for the night.


tbc...