Mistletrapped

Written for the Q&P Comp, Under the Mistletoe

Pairing: GW/HG

Rating: T

George Weasley stared into his brother's grey-blue eyes thinking, for the first time in his life, that the bloke really wasn't all that good looking. Normally he loved joking about how handsome he and his identical twin were - easily the best looking of all the Weasley boys - but they had been stuck under their latest version of enchanted mistletoe for almost an hour, and the situation was looking pretty grim. This particular strain of mistletoe - dubbed "Snoggerrific Mistletoe" by George's other half - was guaranteed to hold anyone who got caught under it hostage until each victim had been thoroughly snogged, tongue and all.

They had hung up the first six bunches of the tainted stuff without incident. It had gone rather swimmingly, in fact. Much smoother than many of their Christmas pranks from previous years. George's ear still smarted from the way McGonagall had twisted it as she towed them to her office when the previous year's prank - spiked eggnog featuring Rumor-has-it Rum - had turned the castle into one big bubble of gossip and hurt feelings. Hermione had overheard them laughing and congratulating each other over the prank's success and turned them in; it had fallen to McGonagall to dish out their detentions.

But now, here they were, stuck under the mistletoe together. Peeves had turned on them after years of mutual respect and professional understanding, curse his little poltergeist soul, and quite literally shoved them under the last bunch of mistletoe. The prankster didn't seem to be able to restrain himself from throwing the twins underneath their own invention, knowing full well that it was impervious to more or less all removing charms and manual methods of removal for 24 hours.

So the Weasley twins stood together awkwardly, alternately staring at each other intently and looking anywhere else. At this point, they were pondering if they could snog each other just to get out of this mess. Since there were no classes that day, no one had happened upon them where they stood in one of the obscure corridors on the seventh floor.

Which was all for the best, George told himself, since their predicament was bloody embarrassing, and it didn't look like it was going to be over any time soon.

"Oi! Gred! Look who it is," Fred suddenly exclaimed, breaking through the unbearable silence.

"What's that, twin o' mine?" George turned to look around and spotted their favourite Gryffindor prefect, bushy curls fanning out around her as she strolled leisurely toward them, completely absorbed in the book she was holding.

"Oh, hello, Hermione!" He affected a casual air, hoping that she wouldn't realize what they were up to and dock house points, or worse.

"'Mione! Aren't you looking lovely this fine evening?" Fred chimed in. "Have we ever told you how great your legs look in those stockings?"

George whipped around to face his brother again, wondering what on earth could be motivating Fred to say such things to the girl their little brother had been eyeing for years.

He didn't have to wonder long.

"Listen, love," Fred continued. "We're in a bit of a sticky situation, here. You see, George and I have gotten ourselves stuck under some enchanted mistletoe, and all our usual charm-breaking spells aren't cutting it. Would you be a dear and give us a good snog so we can be on our merry way?"

George's jaw dropped so far that it hurt a little bit. He snapped it closed and glared his best impression of their mother in Fred's direction, hoping he'd see sense and wait for someone less likely to hex their balls off to help them escape the mistletoe's clutches. Fred was a little too fearless at times, George thought to himself.

Hermione quirked a brow and stopped a few yards away from the twins, clearly wary of the mistletoe and possible secondary pranks that the twins might be trying to trick her into triggering. Rightly so, George admitted to himself; they had given her plenty of reasons to believe the worst of them over the years.

Finally, the girl spoke. "Suppose I do help you, then? What's in it for me?"

George's eyebrows shot up at that, nearly getting lost in his shaggy fringe. He had never - ever - thought he'd see the day when Hermione would help them with a prank. Even though technically all she was doing was helping them out of this one.

He was so awestruck that he didn't realize he was letting his dunderheaded brother do all the talking. Fred grinned. "Well, you'd get to snog the two best-looking blokes in Hogwarts and say you'd snogged twins. Quite an accomplishment, even for a perfect little swot like you." His grin turned cheekier, if that was even possible, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It's going to take a little more than that to persuade me, Fred. Like, maybe, a promise that you will no longer do any product testing in the common room." The twins shared a glance at that, communicating non-verbally for a moment before turning back to face Hermione.

"Done," Fred pronounced before holding his hand out to Hermione.

George stood awkwardly close to his twin's side, turned to face him, stuck in place by the power of their horrid mistletoe invention. He couldn't really move, so Hermione's robes brushed against him as she slowly moved closer and threw her arms around Fred's neck.

George couldn't decide if he felt terrified or a little bit turned on by the new Hermione Granger. Somewhere along the line, between the affectionate, sibling-like banter they'd all shared over breakfast and that moment, she had completely changed. She was confident, sassy, and...sexy. George swallowed dryly, wondering where all the air had gone in the hallway, and watched as Hermione quickly snogged Fred, sneaking in just a bit of tongue before she pulled away.

Fred had a glint in his eye as they broke the kiss, but he mostly just looked relieved. He burst away from the circle of magic that had kept them trapped for the past hour and ran down the hall, jumping once to click his heels in a show of unreserved giddiness. He had just gotten the biggest swot in the school to snog him, so George couldn't really blame the bloke for reacting in such a way.

Suddenly nervous, George stopped staring off after Fred over Hermione's head and met her amber gaze. Her lips were a touch more pink than usual, and her cheeks held a hint of a blush. Her thick curls were windblown and a little mussed from the kiss she'd shared with Fred. Her mouth was trying to hide a smile but failing miserably. She was clearly enjoying seeing the twins fall prey to one of their own pranks. Especially because they'd needed her help to get out of the mess.

George must have stared a moment too long, because Hermione suddenly furrowed her brow and said, "Is there something on my face?" A small, ink-stained hand came up to trace over her face, feeling for whatever might have caught George's attention.

He caught her hand in his, unsure where all these rioting pixies in his stomach had come from, and huffed a nervous laugh. "Just some freckles and such. And, as a Weasley, I can hardly give you a hard time for that."

She smirked back at him, unsure now of what he was going to do and starting to feel a little nervous herself. He captured the hand that had started tracing over the freckles on her nose and used it to pull her closer. Her body was suddenly against his, all soft and tiny, and her mouth parted slightly in surprise.

Before he lost his nerve, George dipped his head to kiss her.

It was slow at first, like a real first kiss, one hand twined with hers and the other gently holding her cheek and sliding into her hair. He hadn't expected Hermione to be such a good kisser and briefly pulled away to stare at the girl in his arms, who still had her eyes closed in a rather adorable way. He couldn't resist the pull her lips had on him, and he found himself lost in kissing her once again.

Hermione let out a soft sigh, and George tentatively let his tongue explore the edge of her bottom lip. She opened to him, and the sensation of their tongues learning each other felt better than the high he'd felt after every prank he'd ever pulled. She smelled like lavender and vanilla...and books and ink. She tasted like she'd been snacking on a sugar quill recently. The hint of sweetness was perfect, and he smiled a bit against her mouth before placing a final kiss on her lips and a tiny peck on her nose.

This kiss was clearly different than the brief one she'd shared with Fred, based on the dilation of her pupils within her honey-amber eyes and the fact that she hadn't moved a hair away from where George had so neatly pulled her against his own tall, lanky frame. One of her hands had woven its way into his hair, and the other clutched at the robes on his lower back. She was breathing harder than usual, and her lips were starting to look deliciously swollen.

Trying not to preen too much, but still enjoying the sight in front of him and the evidence that Hermione had clearly enjoyed their kiss as much as he had, George simply said, "Thanks, 'Mione."

Hermione nodded, but her gaze flew up to the mistletoe above them as it started to sprinkle enchanted snow down upon them. "What's this, then?"

Feeling mortified, and a little pleased with himself, but not especially surprised, George mumbled, "That happens if a couple has any...connection, let's call it." He tried to smile but knew it probably looked more like a grimace. Hermione's glowing eyes had returned to his face, and she ran the hand in his hair down to the back of his neck before pulling him in for one more gentle, lingering kiss.

"Connection, hm? Is that what they call this?" she whispered with a hint of a lopsided smile. He couldn't help but mirror it with one of his own. "As enlightening as this has been," she continued, "I imagine we should probably get a move on if we don't want Fred or the others to come looking for us." They both chuckled at that, and Hermione turned to head towards the nearest staircase.

Her fingertips brushed George's for just an instant before she moved away, but the contact sent a shock all the way to his toes.

As he watched the thoroughly snogged prefect sway slowly down the corridor, George realized he still didn't know what had gotten into Hermione that day, but he found he didn't really care. He leapt away from the hold of the mistletoe and trotted after her.

Thank Merlin for Snoggerrific Mistletoe!