Hermione looked up from her book and glanced across the room. Fred and George were putting Headless Hats on first years. They are the reason Filch has rules. Standing up to break up yet another testing session, Hermione laid down her book, The Dark Arts Outsmarted. Walking over to the chaos, she could hear George cheering the first years on with encouragement.

“Don’t be afraid! Remember, a sickle per product!” When he turned around to grab another hat, George saw Hermione. His faced lost a little color, but he smiled. “Would you like to sample a product, Miss Granger?”

“No, George, I would not like to try a product!” Her voice was so loud that Fred, who had been talking to Lee, turned around. Seeing the commotion, he walked over and put his hand on George’s shoulder.

“Hermione, it’s not dangerous, I promise. If it were, I wouldn’t be here and neither would George.” Fred smiled making the only thing that distinguished him and his twin the letter on his wool Weasley jumper. Hermione’s face filled with rage.

“Fred! They are first years! They are smaller and can’t take as much as you and George!” She brushed her bushy hair away from her face. “Stop the testing, now!” Hermione turned away and walked back to her book, leaving Fred and George with stunned looks on their faces.

A half an hour later, the product testing had stopped and the common room was clearing. Hermione was curled up on the couch with her book again, silently reading. The fire was burning low, almost out, and when she looked up, most people were rolling up their parchment. Finally some peace and quiet, she thought. But then she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“What are you reading now?” George’s tone was playful.

“The Dark Arts Outsmarted. Hopefully it will give us some ideas for the DA.” Her voice was laced with an indefinable anger.

“Hermione, are you okay?”

She turned around, looking straight at him. She tried to look mad, but instead ended up blushing and turning back to her book. Pull yourself together, Hermione. It's George Weasley! “I’m fine, George. Why do you ask?”

“When you get mad at me and Fred, you usually give us an ultimatum. An ultimatum that usually we surpass. But today there wasn’t one, and we didn’t even to get a chance to defend ourselves. It’s very unlike you, Hermione.” He walked around the back of the couch and set next to her. “Something must be bothering you pretty badly for you to forget an ultimatum.” George’s face donned a small smile, but his eyes showed that he was truly worried. Once again, closed her book, and turned to face the twin.

“Do you want the truth, or what I tell Harry and Ron?” She laughed and fingered the hem of her jumper.

“The truth.” George had become serious. Hermione’s thoughts preceded her words.

He’s gorgeous when he actually takes the time to be serious. Oh, what am I saying? It’s one of the twins. She shook the thoughts from her mind. “I’m scared. Harry is teaching us spells that are way over any of our heads but it’s the only thing that we will learn about defense this year. We are so young, but have to do everything on our own. Plus, Voldemort is back and no one believes it. The Ministry doesn’t think we need to be protected, because Harry is allegedly only telling the story to seek attention. I’m worried about Harry, I mean, he dealt with so much last June and now almost everyone has turned on him. And-” Her eyes met with George’s and she blushed. “Sorry, I’m babbling, I know.”

“It’s fine, just keep talking.” He urged her on.

Sigh.“And I don’t know what I’m going to do. Someone needs to be willing to write the truth and The Prophet certainly isn’t going to. I’ve been thinking about tracking down Rita Skeeter, but that would just add more stress to my life. I haven’t been sleeping well at all, and I think it might be affecting my school work. I’m trying to think about the future, I mean, we have to defeat Voldemort eventually. Or Harry does at least-“

“Hermione, would you like a glass of wine?” He pulled a bottle out from under the couch, which had obviously been stowed from a past Quidditch party.

“George, you know I don’t drink. It’s bad to let alcohol cover up your feelings anyway.” Hermione sighed.

He’s so thoughtful, even if his ideas are a little bit edgy.
“I know, I just thought I’d offer. You seem really stressed out and well, you never know.” His eyes shown with mischief, but then became worried again. “You can’t bottle up your feelings, even if it does make you babble.” She frowned and he chuckled. “Just kidding.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for really freaking out over the testing, but you really shouldn’t be doing that to first years.” He was about to interject, but she continued. “Even if you are paying them. It’s one thing for you and your brother to test it on yourselves, but it’s not like they are signing accident waivers. They could be harmed!”

“We aren’t doing anything that will permanently harm them, I promise.” He quietly began to slip his hand over Hermione’s.

Okay, maybe I do like him.

She didn’t pull away, but at that moment Ron came into the room. Quickly, George jerked his hand off of Hermione’s, but his younger brother had already seen it.

Yes, I definently do. But then she heard Ron.

“What in the bloody name of Gryffindor do you think your doing?” Ron’s face was livid, and he was looking straight at Hermione.

“Nothing I haven’t done before, I assure you.” After Hermione said this, she clearly realized that this was the wrong thing to say.

“Nothing you haven’t done before?!” His face was now a bright shade of red, a colour of anger.

“Oh, Ron, that’s not what I meant.” Oh what I have I gotten myself into?

“He’s my brother, Hermione! And you just sit here like it’s no big deal!”

George interrupted Ron. “Little bro’, we were just talking, relax. It’s not like we were sitting here snogging or anything. Just talking.” George was clearly trying to control himself from laughing at Ron’s face.

“You were trying to hold her hand and it’s not like she was pulling away or anything! You obviously did something that would make her brain go awry.” Ron was clearly having trouble grasping the concept when Hermione spoke up.

“I like him, Ron.” Her eyes were trained on the rug, not looking her friend in the eye. Ron looked ready to strangle George, who looked very surprised.

“Honestly, that’s the first she had said anything about that. Yeah, I like her, but I was just letting her vent. She’s been worried lately, not that you would notice.”

As George said this Ron began to stutter. “You-? Her-? Wha-?” The words only made it halfway out of his mouth before he had to begin new ones. He looked at Hermione, his eyes full of hope, but she only shook her head. “But surely you would have known!”

“Known what, that you liked me? Yes, I did but I got sick of waiting. You never said anything, so I didn’t push the subject. You have never questioned our relationship, so neither did I. You should have spoken up before I decided to move on.” Hermione’s words stung, even though Ron knew she was right.

“You fancied me?” His eyes grew wide as he let her words sink in.

“Yes, Ron, but I’ve moved on. I’m sorry.” Hermione looked at him for the first time. Ron, I really am but you have to understand. George has shown he is here for me.

Ron looked confused, as if he had really blown it this time. “So there really isn’t anything I can do…”

“No, Ron. I’m sorry. Please don’t make me say it again.” Once again, her eyes drifted to the floor. She heard Ron mumble something and walk away. Hermione leaned her head back on the couch, and curled up in a little ball.

“Did you really mean what you said?” George’s voice was light, but she could definitely hear the apprehension.

“Yes, George, I did.” She slipped his hand over hers again, and laid her head on his lap.

“I thought so, but why?” He interlaced his fingers with hers, and squeezed them tight.

“Because you care, George.” Mumbling sleepily, she let him kiss her. It wasn’t for long, but she could feel the warmth of George’s lips on hers as she fell asleep.