Fictionallizzy

A/N:

This chapter contains another flashback, just to add some more background to the story.
Hope you enjoy

Recommended songs for this chapter:

Avril Lavigne – Souvenir
Will Linley – Kill all my feelings
Matthew Mole – See me again

Chapter 3:

It was safe to say that she was completely taken by surprise when a knock on her door a few days later revealed a miserable George, standing on her doorstep with a bouquet of daisies. He looked good, clad in jeans and a crisp mint button-down, still sporting the stubble she liked so much.

They'd been avoiding each other and the issue of their night together, both aware that they'd need to talk at some point.

"I'm sorry, Granger," George said by way of greeting and offered her the flowers. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking so contrite that her heart melted. "I acted like a prat the other day at lunch. I was drunk, angry, and confused after what happened between us, but that wasn't your fault." He hesitated for a second, before continuing. "And I shouldn't have been so cold toward you when you came to the joke shop."

"I get why you lashed out at me," she acknowledged and blushed despite herself. Just the thought of that night flustered her. No matter how hard she tried, images of them together popped up at the most random times. Some nights she even dreamed about it, as if her subconscious wanted to remind her of what a terrible person she was. Still, she couldn't pretend that it hadn't been fantastic sex.

Merlin, what would Fred have said if he knew?

"We should never have had sex, especially not on the day of Fred's funeral. I know how guilty I feel for what happened, so I can only imagine how hard it must be for you to deal with after everything. But I'm not sure I deserve your apology," she pointed out, avoiding eye contact with George. "If I'd acted more responsibly, you wouldn't be so angry at yourself right now. Or at me."

"Still," he shrugged a shoulder and tried on a lopsided smirk that didn't stick. "I hope you'll forgive me?"

"Do you want to come in?" she asked hesitantly, stepping aside to let him in.

He shook his head, staying put. "I'd rather not." He looked down at his feet for a moment, warring with himself over something. "Listen, Granger, I know what a dick move it is to bring this up after the fact." He groaned, cheeks turning red, and then steeled himself, lifting his eyes to hers with caution. "I never asked if you were on contraception the other night before we…got carried away."

"Oh!" Her brows shot up in surprise. She coughed a laugh and waved it away. "I'm on the potion."

He nodded solemnly. "Yeah, I assumed as much…with you and Fred being in a relationship and—" He cut off, grimacing.

Hermione turned her attention to the flowers in her hand, trying to hide her discomfort at discussing her sex life, past and present, considering she's now been intimate with both twins. It made her feel cheap, somehow. "I probably should have told you. But I assumed you knew. Or that you trusted me not to be reckless."

"I did," he confirmed, then amended. "I do. But the gentlemanly thing would have been to ask, at least. And I apologise for that. I'm not normally so…irresponsible."

"Neither am I. But unfortunately, that night with you was irresponsible in more ways than one. If anyone ever found out about us…" She winced at the mere thought.

George stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, broke eye contact and pursed his lips, looking displeased. "Yep."

"Are you sure you don't want to come in? This isn't exactly a conversation meant to be had on a doorstep."

He declined with another shake of his head. "I'm leaving, Granger," he blurted abruptly, "That's part of the reason I stopped by. I thought you deserved to be told in person."

Hermione's stomach lurched at the news and her thoughts scattered in a million different directions, trying to pinpoint the exact cause for his decision.

"Why?" she asked eventually when it became clear that he wasn't planning on explaining without being prompted.

"I just need some time away from everything that reminds me of Fred, and there are memories of him everywhere I look. And I just..." he cut off, jaw flexing. "It's too much right now."

Hermione felt a sudden, overwhelming need to try and stop him. To beg him to reconsider. But she understood most of what he was going through. She knew without a doubt that he'd stay if she asked, no matter how begrudgingly, but that would be terribly selfish of her.

Perhaps this was what he needed to put himself back together.

"How long will you be gone?" Her voice cracked despite her best attempts at keeping her tone even and unaffected. "Where will you go?"

"Maybe Africa. Or the States. I haven't decided which," he shrugged. "As for how long I'll be away—I don't have an answer for you. But I guess I'll know when I'm ready to come home."

He chewed on his lip for a moment before he continued, "Lee's going to help Ron run the joke shop while I'm gone, and I know I have no right to ask this of you, but if you have the time, would you mind helping them with the bookkeeping? I don't expect you to do it for them. Just offer some guidance from time to time. But they're both very new at this and I'm worried they're going to fuck up the finances."

"Of course, I will," she assured him. She'd do anything to give him peace of mind while he tried to deal with this new reality where half of him was lost forever.

"I'll do my best to show them the ropes, but just in case they need some advice or another pair of eyes..." he trailed off with a shrug.

"On one condition…" She pulled him in for a hug. He felt stiff and awkward in her arms, a stark contrast to the night they'd spent in his bed. "Promise you'll come back to us," she whispered imploringly in his ear. "Because I'm really fucking scared that I'll never see you again after today."

One Weasley twin was bad enough. She wasn't sure she could stand losing George, too.

His body suddenly relaxed against hers, and a rumbling chuckle vibrated in his chest. She could feel it deep in the marrow of her bones, warming her and settling the gnawing in her gut. He tightened his arms around her, returning her hug. The stubble on his jaw scraped against her cheek when he turned his head to whisper in her ear, "Promise."

Her stomach clenched violently, and she shivered in his arms when the mere sensation beckoned another slew of memories of their night together. The deep rasp of that single word, accompanied by the brush of his lips against the shell of her ear made her yearn to pull those lips to hers and find a million ways to convince him to stay.

But this magnetism…this forbidden attraction…was dangerous for so many reasons. And she had to remind herself to tread carefully.

Neither George nor she was in love with the other, and perpetuating this…thing…was a recipe for disaster.

Perhaps some space would give them perspective. And hopefully, it would douse this unwelcome spark in her belly.

"Be safe, George," she said instead and stepped out of his embrace before she did something she'd regret later. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too, Granger," he offered with a ghost of a smile, watching her intently for a beat before turning away.

"Georgie…" she called after him before he could leave.

A poisonous mixture of fear and desperation was swirling in the pit of her stomach at the thought of him disappearing from her life, no matter how temporary. He was one of her best friends, first and foremost. Or at least he used to be before things got messy.

"Yeah, Granger?" he asked from over his shoulder, not turning back to her.

"Are we...okay?" she whispered, almost too softly for him to hear. She was terrified to ask this question, and even more terrified of his answer. "Are we still friends?"

He didn't respond immediately, as if genuinely contemplating his answer. And then, in a whisper just as low as her own, he said, "We will be. But I think it's best to put some distance between us for now. Before I fuck things up even more than I already have."

He disapparated before the words could penetrate. But when it did, she felt them like a punch to the gut.

She swallowed the tears that threatened to fall, not even sure why she felt like crying right now, and headed inside.

xxx

FLASHBACK:

Hermione was on a date with Fred Weasley of all people, strolling down the cobblestone path in Hogsmeade toward Madame Puddifoot's.

The fact that they were on a date was so surreal, and yet, she could feel the heat of his body as his arm brushed against hers as they walked side by side. She could smell the subtle hint of his cologne and listened while he told her about one of their latest inventions.

As excited as she was to be on a date with him, getting to this point had been harrowing.

For a guy who appeared so smooth and confident in everything he did, he had absolutely no finesse when it came to witches. It was rather surprising, considering how utterly suave he'd been when asking Angelina Johnson to the Yule Ball last year.

His first attempt at charming her (gods, could she even call it that?) had been before dinner a few days after their unexpected kiss when he'd casually asked, "How about another snog, Granger?"

Who even says that?

Naturally, she'd declined—very vehemently—and had walked away, leaving a very confused Fred in her wake. If he couldn't see how ridiculous his behaviour was, she sure as hell wasn't going to point it out. He could figure it out himself.

She hoped there weren't girls desperate enough to fall for a pick-up line like that.

Unfortunately, Fred had tried to change her mind on multiple occasions after that evening, each proposition more ridiculous than the last.

She shot him down every single time, getting more annoyed with every poor attempt from him.

And then, suddenly, he'd stopped.

While she'd initially been relieved that the harassment had ceased, she'd felt a twinge of disappointment that he'd given up on her so easily. Perhaps she wasn't worth the effort.

But on the Friday before their Hogsmeade weekend was scheduled, he'd pulled her aside for another try.

He must have wisened up somehow. Or perhaps he'd asked for advice because this time his approach was gentler. More respectful and sincere.

He'd told her he was interested in her and that he thought the chemistry they'd shared during their first kiss was something he'd like to explore if she was willing to give him a chance.

It was simple. Easy. To the point. And she appreciated that he wasn't putting on a show. She liked seeing the real him. That was the Fred she was interested in; the wizard who enjoyed a good prank, almost always joked around but could be serious enough when the situation demanded it.

"Aren't you worried people will see us together?" she asked Fred after he helped her settle into her seat at a small table in the tea shop.

"Why would I be worried?" he asked, nonplussed, and shrugged out of his jacket. He hung it over the back of his chair and sat down across from her.

"You're out with a fifth-year bookworm who is best friends with your younger brother. Besides, don't you usually go for the more athletically inclined witches?"

He rubbed the back of his neck and grinned sheepishly. "I suppose it's true. But I've never shared the same…" he searched momentarily for the right word, "…chemistry with them as I have with the fifth-year bookworm in question. You've sorta thrown me for a loop. And I admit it's been fun being turned down so many times."

"So, you like the thrill of the chase, then?" she asked quietly and nodded to herself. She avoided his eyes, fidgeting with her menu. "But what happens when you've gotten what you wanted, and the chase is over?" She lifted her head when he didn't answer immediately and watched as he gathered his thoughts.

"I…" Fred paused, frowning. "I haven't really thought that far yet."

"Let me be honest with you," she straightened in her chair. "You're a great guy, Fred."

"Oh no," he grimaced. "I think I know where this is going."

"Hush," she cut him off. "You're funny, and you like to have a good time—in general, but also with girls—and I'm not as experienced at dating as you are. In fact, I've never dated before."

Fred opened his mouth to speak.

"I'm not saying your experience is a bad thing. But maybe it's just not the right thing for me. I'm not looking for a fling or a friends-with-benefits arrangement." Fred coughed a surprised laugh. "And I don't want to be toyed with either, so maybe it might be better if we remain friends."

With his familiar lopsided smirk firmly in place, he said, "I don't know where you got your information from, but besides dating a fair few witches—which incidentally did not involve sex—I'm very inexperienced myself."

"Wait? You've never, you know," she lowered her voice to whisper the last part, "had sex?" She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes at him. She must have misunderstood.

"Nope." He popped the 'p', ears turning red at the tips, but his annoying(-ly attractive) smirk remained firmly in place.

"Oh..." Hermione leaned back in her chair and carefully watched for any signs of deception.

She found none.

Their waitress interrupted momentarily to take their order, and when she walked away, Fred calmly leaned forward, resting both hands on the table. "While I'm not surprised you've overanalysed this date and, more importantly, my intentions, I just wanted to spend some time with you. Get to know you better. See where this leads."

Now it was her turn to blush.

"I think you're very beautiful, Hermione. You're brilliant, and you have this dry but razor-sharp humour that I find both hilarious and attractive. Frankly, you could have any guy you want, so the fact that you've agreed to go on this date with me makes me feel very smug. And I assure you my intentions are sincere. I'm not planning on hurting you, messing with you or using you for sex." He widened his eyes playfully on the last word. "So, let's have coffee while you tell me more about yourself. Then, if you're still willing to put up with me, we'll take a nice walk around Hogsmeade before meeting up with George and the others for a butterbeer and lunch. No funny business."

Well…
He'd certainly schooled her, hadn't he?

xxx

"Well, well, well…" Lee Jordan smirked when Hermione and Fred joined their table at the Three Broomsticks. "Granger and Freddiekins, on a date. This is certainly a surprise."

Fred pulled out a chair for her with his usual flamboyance, but there was a definite note of sincerity in his eyes as they caught hers.

He sat down beside her, stretched his arm out across the back of her chair, and turned his attention to Lee, shooting back a smug retort that Hermione missed.

Her attention was focused solely on George as he scowled at his butterbeer, and when he looked up and noticed Hermione watching him, offered her only a tight smile.

What was wrong with him lately?

"How long has this been going on?" Lee asked, earning Hermione's attention once more. He gestured between Fred and her, his arm casually wrapped around Katie Bell.

Fred looked at Hermione, shrugged and said, "Since today, seeing as Hermione's made me work and grovel for a date this entire week."

"Good girl," Katie chipped in with a mischievous smile. "Don't let him bulldoze you into giving him what he wants. These three," she pointed between Fred, George and Lee, "Think they're god's gift to women. They need to be taken down a peg or two every now and then."

"Lies!" Fred exclaimed loud enough to make every head in the pub turn toward their table.

"Not lies," Hermione countered playfully. "He," she told Katie while hiking a thumb in Fred's direction, "came up to me outside the Great Hall before dinner one evening and asked if I'd like to snog him again. As if that was somehow an acceptable question to ask a witch."

Katie gave Hermione a look that said, 'See what I mean.'

"Hang on," Lee interrupted. "What do you mean again?"

"Oh," Hermione hesitated, cheeks colouring with embarrassment at her slip-up. "I—"

"I got overexcited after Hermione helped fix our Ten-Second Pimple Vanisher the other day, and I kissed her."

"Must have been some kiss if he's been this relentless in his pursuit of you, eh Granger?" Lee waggled his eyebrows.

"It was all right, I guess," Hermione said evenly, while at the same time, Fred said, "It was fantastic!"

Fred turned to her, lifting his brows in question. "Just all right?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed with feigned indifference, trying not to crack a smile. Fred was right. Their kiss had been brilliant, but he didn't need her to inflate his ego more than it already was.

"Fine," he gave a decisive nod and smirked, "Challenge accepted."

"What challenge?" Hermione gaped. "I didn't say—"

"I'm going to change your opinion on the matter and watch with satisfaction as you eat your words," he warned.

The abrupt scrape of George's chair as he pushed out of his seat startled Hermione.

George cleared his throat. "I just remembered I forgot to pick up a package from—" He didn't finish his sentence as he stalked out of the Three Broomsticks without another word.

"What the bloody hell was that about?" Fred asked Lee.

"No idea, mate," Lee shrugged. "He's been a bit off lately. But whenever I ask him about it, he changes the subject."

Hermione looked from Lee to Katie, finding her staring intently at Hermione. The look wasn't quite accusatory, more contemplative.

But why did it make Hermione feel she was somehow the cause of George's odd behaviour?

xxx

"You really think our first kiss was mediocre?" Fred asked as they walked back to Hogwarts.

"Why are you so bothered by this?" she chuckled, rolling her eyes playfully at him.

"I'm not bothered," he challenged with a jut of his chin. "But I was under the impression that you enjoyed it just as much as I did."

"Full disclosure," Hermione sighed, stopping Fred with a hand on his arm. "It was great. But when a witch imagines what her first kiss will be like, it normally involves a wizard who's completely into it, because he fancies her. Not because he's overcome with relief and gratitude and doesn't know how to express it."

He frowned, but simultaneously, the corner of his lip twitched as if he wanted to smile.

"What's that look?" she motioned to his face, narrowing her eyes.

He allowed the smile to win out and straightened to his full height. "While I'm incredibly delighted to have given you your first kiss, I'm disappointed that my intentions weren't as sincere as they are now."

"What do you—" she asked, but he cut her off.

"Let me make it up to you, Hermione," he said, stepping closer to her. He pushed a curl behind her ear. "Let me show you what a first kiss should feel like when it's a wizard out on a date with a witch he fancies."

Her mouth popped open in surprise and her cheeks flamed.

Why was she so nervous about this? Perhaps because it would ultimately determine how things would go from here on out.

But his eyes were sincere and warm, and the way his hand brushed against her jaw felt amazing. And she really wanted him to kiss her again. She wanted to see if she'd imagined how nice his lips had felt on hers and if the spark from the other night still existed.

She nodded, unable to string together a yes, never mind a full sentence.

Fred cupped her cheek, his palm warm, while his other hand sneaked into her curls. He pulled her face closer as he leaned in, pausing for a second before he brushed his lips over hers. Once, twice, and then sucked her bottom lip between his.

Her mouth popped open with a quiet gasp of delight, and Fred took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth to deepen the kiss.

The first stroke of their tongues was gentle, tentative. And then her blood ignited when he groaned into her mouth and pulled her even closer to him.

Fred was devouring her, turning her brain to mush and her legs to jelly as their kiss intensified, bordering on lecherous. And everyone on their way up to school was bearing witness.

She didn't care.

It felt way too good to stop.

And yet, they'd have to break apart at some point, before things became scandalous. She wouldn't put it past Umbridge to give Fred and her a month's detention for this.

Fred was thinking along the same lines, because with a last pass of his tongue over hers, he pulled away hesitantly, and pressed his forehead against hers.

He was grinning, cheeks flushed, and panting.

Her stomach fluttered in response, because yes! She certainly hadn't imagined the spark. Nor had she built up their first kiss in her head. But this time was even better. It was so much more.

"Pretty sure I'll be chasing you around the castle for more of this," he whispered, stealing another blistering kiss. "I don't think I'll manage more than an hour without getting a taste of you."

Hermione huffed a laugh, half chuffed with herself, half embarrassed.

"I think…" he admitted sheepishly, brown eyes following the movement of his thumb as he traced her bottom lip, "That I might be in bigger trouble than I initially anticipated."

xxx

On Sunday, after her date with Fred, Hermione decided to track George down to talk.

She never meant to come between him and Fred, and she'd back off if that's what he wanted.

But sooner or later, Fred, and even George, would find themselves a witch they wanted to plan a future with. And then what?

How would either of them have proper relationships if they couldn't manage to spend time apart?

She found him in his usual haunt—the abandoned classroom—experimenting.

He had a cauldron over a flame and was stirring vigorously when she walked in.

His hair was messy, his jaw scruffy and there were dark circles under his eyes.

The classroom smelled horrible—like rotting plants and sewage—and the workstation was littered with ingredients.

Hermione pinched her nose, suppressing a gag.

He didn't look up, "Just give me a second, Freddie, I'm almost—" he stopped speaking when he noticed her but kept stirring. "Oh, it's you."

His tone sounded flat, almost disappointed.

"Don't sound so excited, please," she muttered and walked over to him. "I can barely stand your enthusiasm."

"Sorry," he apologised lamely and stirred his potion four more times before turning down the flame. "I wasn't expecting you."

"Clearly." She brushed off his bad mood and came to stand beside him. "What are you working on?"

George wiped his hands on his apron and shrugged, "Nothing. You'll think it's lame."

"Why don't you let me decide, hm?" She nudged his shoulder casually with hers.

"It's the base for a Portable Swamp Fred and I have been working on."

"Who'd want a—?" Hermione started to ask, not seeing the point of this particular product, but it was just another prank product in a long line of others that didn't particularly interest her. It didn't mean others might not appreciate it.

"Never mind," George scowled at her and turned to grab a large glass container. "Told you it's lame."

He carefully labelled and then added some of the smelly green potion into the container.

"It's not lame…" she tried weakly. "I bet your regulars will all be very eager to buy themselves a Pocket Swamp."

"Portable Swamp," George corrected her testily.

"Right." She offered him an apologetic smile.

"What do you want, Granger?" he demanded impatiently while he wiped down his workstation, vanished the spare ingredients and closed the lid on the container.

"Straight to the point," she coughed a laugh and gagged when she let go of her nose. "Oh, gods. How do you stand it in here?"

He rolled his eyes at her but produced a pair of nose plugs from his pocket, offering them to her. "You get used to it after a while."

"Doubtful." She took the offered nose plugs and turned away from him to pop them into her nose. When she turned around, he was leaning against the edge of the table, watching her with furrowed brows. Waiting.

"I've noticed that you've been…different…lately," she carefully explained.

He raised a challenging brow.

"Moody. Quiet," she continued. "And I wondered if it had anything to do with me dating your brother."

George stiffened.

"If you feel he's spending too much time with me, then I can back off. But you know," she chewed on her lip, trying to think of a way not to piss him off more than he already was. "At some point, you'll get serious about a witch, and then you and Fred will both have to split your time between your girlfriends and each other."

This made George's posture relax marginally. "Yeah," he nodded solemnly. "Yeah, that's exactly it. I…uh…have been struggling with the fact that Fred's been focused more on you than on our products." He relaxed even more, although, something about his enthusiasm as he grasped onto this topic still seemed a little…off. She couldn't put her finger on it, but this confrontation had gone much smoother than she'd expected.
She'd anticipated some defensiveness from him. And yet, he'd been nothing but agreeable.

"Okay..." she said hesitantly. "So, yes you want me to back off or…?"

"Don't worry about it, Granger. Fred likes you a lot, and I would never meddle in my brother's relationship with you. I should put more effort into dating; it might help if I had something other than the joke shop and my brother to focus on.

In the weeks that followed, it seemed Hermione's conversation with George had helped.

Fred was less worried that his brother felt left out.

George seemed to be in a better mood now that he was dating Angelina, sometimes almost flaunting her in front of Hermione by kissing her or being overly affectionate.

And whenever Hermione felt a twinge of jealousy when watching George and Angelina together, she chalked it up to him looking so much like Fred that it momentarily felt as if her boyfriend was kissing another witch.

It certainly wasn't because deep down, she harboured feelings for George.

A/N:

I haven't mentioned it before, but updates will be sporadic. I don't have a set schedule - I'll try my best to update at least once a week.