Chapter Fourteen

George watched the flabbergasted woman in front of him, wondering if five minutes was an appropriate length of time to let her process his statement, or if perhaps he had just shocked her into a stroke… he had been laying it on a bit thick during the trial the offer really shouldn't have come as that big of a surprise.

Hermione finally found her voice, though replied with, "You can't be serious."

Not exactly what he was hoping for, but it was better than her continuing to stare at him in catatonic horror and confusion. "Of course I'm not Sirius, I'm George," he said in an effort to defuse the tension.

"That is so not funny," she frowned.

"My sweet little Granger that will always be funny," George replied. "So what do you say?"

"I..." Hermione racked her brain for a logical excuse to say no. "I don't do private social dinners with clients,"

"Then I guess I won't be seeing you Saturday at Mum's?" he replied with a smirk George had expected her to come up with at least one excuse and thus had spent the last few days coming up with every counter argument he could think of. "Besides even if that was true, which is obviously isn't, seeing as the case is over I am officially no longer your client anymore. So I think we should celebrate by me taking you to dinner."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to," she said bluntly, though the current color of her cheeks suggested other wise.

"Oh I know that isn't true," George grinned disarmingly at her. "Come on, Granger, one dinner isn't going to kill you. Your pick. I can afford anywhere."

"George, please. I'm tired and really do not have the patients for one of you jokes right now…"

"I'm not joking," George frowned for a moment. "Please?"

The way he said 'please' caught the already blindsided witch completely by surprise. It actually sounded genuine, almost pleading. Hermione studied him skeptically for a few moments, trying to weigh the possibility that George Weasley was seriously asking her out to dinner against the very real probability that he was really just messing with her. There was also the fact that this was the very same man who had made her life the living embodiment of a migraine for the last month. Did she really want to spend an entire evening with him, by herself, in a social setting? Hermione quickly silenced an obnoxious voice in the back of her head that immediately started screaming "YES!"

She couldn't help but noticed that the voice sounded remarkably like Ginny. Without delay the voice began rambling on about how long it had been since her last date and she should suck it up and say yes.

Yep. Definitely Ginny.

It was true though, Hermione couldn't remember the last time she had been on any sort of outing that could be classified, even slightly, as a proper date. The last 'date' she had gone on was with an Auror that Harry and Ron knew from work. When Hermione came up dateless for an unavoidable Ministry Function they suggested she ask him to be her plus one. The evening had actually been going just fine right up until her date ran into an old flame that had dumped him three years ago. The man spent over an hour trying to talk to her until the old girlfriend eventually got fed up and told him to bugger off. After that it just went completely down hill. The git got way to hands on with Hermione in an attempt to make his ex jealous, then proceeded to get so blindingly pissed that he vomited on her shoes before passing out on the terrace. Somewhere in there he had also tried to invite himself over to her flat after the ball. In hindsight it was probably a good thing he passed out when he did, because if the stupid wanker had still been conscious by the time Harry and Ron got to them it would not have been pretty.

On second thought, after that disaster, George could stand her up all together and it would still be an improvement over that evening. Of course there was still the matter of him making her life a living hell for over month. An idea suddenly popped into Hermione's brain that caused the bushy haired witch to suppress an almost evil grin.

"Alright, Weasley," she said. "You're on."

George's face lit up, "Really?"

"Of course," Hermione smiled sweetly. "It's been awhile since I've had a good sushi meal. You do like sushi, don't you?"

"Sushi? Oh course I do!" George proclaimed excitedly. "I love sushi. Can't get enough of it! Grew up on the stuff actually. Nothing beats Mum's home cooked sushi."

'That's what I thought.' Hermione grinned to herself, feeling rather proud of the fact that she was able to keep such a straight face.

"And you don't mind a muggle restaurant?"

"If I were anymore muggle friendly, I'd be one."

"Wonderful," she smiled at him again. "Then let's meet tomorrow evening at my office and we'll leave from there. Say seven?"

George's face barely contained his smile, "It's a date."

Hermione just smiled as she turned to go. "See you then."

"Feel free to wear something slinky!" George called after her as she walked away. If she heard him, the comment was ignored. The giddy ginger punched the air in victory and practically skipped all the way back to the floo gates.

By the time she had made it half way down the hallway Hermione was blushing so hard she was fairly certain she could have been used as an alternative heating source. What on earth made her do that? Admittedly revenge was a part of it. George clearly had no actual idea where he had just agreed to dine, and watching the little prat choke down raw fish on rice was going to be hysterical, but it felt like there was more to it than that. If it was just revenge, Hermione wouldn't have the bubble of exhilaration in her stomach that she did currently. Maybe she'd luck out and what she was feeling right now was just gas.

"Well that took longer than I thought it would."

Hermione nearly jumped six feet in the air at the voice that'd just startled her out of her deep thoughts. She turned to her right and saw Sally leaning against a wall giving her a slightly entertained look.

"I… I thought you went home," Hermione stammered out as she composed herself.

"I was, but then realized I couldn't pass up the opportunity to see if I was right about Mr. Weasley liking you," Sally shrugged as she pushed off the wall and started walking with Miss Granger. "I didn't think he would wait this long to ask you out, but bravo to him for at least waiting till the case was over."

"I'm not… he didn't… He doesn't like me," Hermione blushed.

Sally gave her employer a sarcastic look. "Miss Granger, if I may speak freely…"

"Like I could stop you…"

"…Ma'am, if Mr. Weasley liked you any more, he would have asked you to marry him instead of just have dinner with him."

"I think you may be working too much, Sally," Hermione sniffed. "You're talking crazy."

"And I think you may be crazy if you let this chance pass you by," Sally shot back. "I'm not saying I hold Mr. Weasley in very high regard or anything because truthfully the man drives me to drink."

Hermione giggled.

"But he seems genuine enough and I think it would do you some good to give this a half decent shot," she continued. "Also, if you ever tell that gingered buffoon that I said I think he has a genuine sort of character I will deny it, hex him, and then misfile you cases from now till Easter."

"Aren't you supposed to be a Hufflepuff?" her curly haired boss chuckled. "All loyal, and kind hearted and what not?"

"Hat barely touched me before sorting me there," the blonde said proudly. "And I am loyal to you. I am, however, also very loyal to the idea of self preservation. If Mr. Weasley thinks I hold him in any sort of esteem he'll be absolutely insufferable. And if you're going to start dating him I'll no doubt be forced to see him on a regular basis. No need to punish both of us."

"I highly doubt we are going to start dating, Sally," Hermione scoffed. "It's a thank you dinner and that's all."

"Right, and I'm the Minister of Magic," Sally rolled her eyes. "If that man isn't completely infatuated with you I'll eat my shoes. On the positive side even if I am wrong, which I'm positive I'm not, if nothing else you get a free dinner and an undoubtedly entertaining evening."

Hermione sighed and admitted inwardly that her assistant was right. Damn her. A sudden and deep frown appeared on Hermione's face and Sally looked over in concern.

"What's wrong?" she asked in a worried voice.

Hermione hung her head in shame. "I have nothing the wear!"

…~…~…

George stepped out of his fireplace and into his flat. Dusting the soot off his cloak he quickly rushed down stairs where he knew Fred would be. Sure enough, the identical ginger was up on a stepping stool restocking skiving snack boxes next to the check out counter. The swishing of the heavy velvet curtain that separated the front and back of their store caused Fred to look up. He smiled and waved at his twin. George wove through the displays and offered a hand to Fred so he could get down safely

"Well?" he asked, once his feet were firmly on the floor. "How'd it go?"

"Like a dream," George grinned as he pulled off his neck tie and tossed it onto the cash register. "Stoneworth fessed up to lying so his wife dropped the charges and Gaufrid fined them 100 galleons for wasting his time."

"Good ol' Gaufrid," Fred smiled back. "How're the mutton chops coming in?"

"Quite nicely," his twin replied. "I gave him your regards."

"Thank you."

"Anyway, we won, I slipped the Stoneworth kid a couple o' truth taffies for his dad's coffee tomorrow morning and all is well with the world again."

"While that's all brilliant, Georgie, s'not what I was actually asking about," Fred laughed and hobbled over to his brother. "How'd it go with Granger?"

George's grin doubled, "We're going for dinner tomorrow night at seven."

"Fantastic!" Fred slapped him on the back. It was a bit harder than most would, but that's brothers for you.

"Thank you, thank you," George bowed. "Now if you'll excuse me I believe I still have the rest of the day off. I will see you tonight for supper, tell Angie it's my turn to cook."

"What? Where are you going?"

"Florish and Blotts of course."

"Why?"

"Research," George said as he opened the door. "How else am I going to figure out what in the bloody hell 'sushi' is?"

Before Fred could say another word, George ducked out the entrance and was down the street before the door could jingle the bell as it closed.

TBC

A/N: I know this one isn't as long as the last few but I wanted to break the date into a different chapter all together. Hopefully they don't kill each other. R&R!

~Chupip