A/N: So sorry for such a long wait, already working on the next chapter!
“Mate I don’t want to go with her!” Fred hissed. George realized that he was in one of the many hidden tunnels in Hogwarts. This one in particular, led straight to the corridor where the painting of the Fat Lady was. George stepped back and leaned against the wall, looking around quickly for Hermione. She was gone once again. He looked down the tunnel and saw the outlined forms of him and his twin. He heard his own voice, continuing a very memorable conversation.
“Please Fred, I’m too afraid to ask her myself,” George said quickly. “I thought maybe you could ask her, and then we could, I dunno, switch halfway through the dance. I can pronounce my undying love for her. And all will be well in the world.” Fred shook his head.
“What about me mate? What am I going to do for the rest of the evening?” Fred asked, a bit irritated. George chuckled nervously, still looking hopefully at Fred. Fred just shook his head again. “Oh, all right mate. I’ll do it. Only because you’re Forge and I’m Gred.” George hugged Fred tightly.
“Thanks twin!” he said happily. “Now, I suppose we should send this letter to Bagman… You sure this is a good idea? I don’t really like this whole blackmailing thing.” Fred shrugged.
“I just want to be paid what we were owed George,” he said nonchalantly. George followed closely behind the two as they exited the tunnel and came out just beside the Fat Lady.
“Fairy Lights,” George said rather cheerfully to the Fat Lady. The painting swung forward, and the twins entered the common room, with George hot on their tail. They approached the “golden trio,” and chuckled as Ron blew up his Exploding Snap stack of cards, singing his eyebrows.
“Nice look, Ron. . . go well with your dress robes, that will,” Fred said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Hermione gave them a cheerful smile, moving one of her stacks of notes for them to sit.*
“Ron, can we borrow Pigwidgeon?” George asked, taking a seat beside him. Ron shook his head, still feeling what was left of his eyebrows.*
“No, he’s off delivering a letter,” said Ron. “Why?” Fred snorted.*
“Because George wants to invite him to the ball,” Fred said, causing George to frown at him. George remembered this well. Fred was going to give him rubbish about not having the nerve to ask Angelina to the ball for weeks after. George sighed and looked back to Ron, but didn’t get to hear his response as someone had just tapped on his shoulder.*
“Oh hullo again Hermione,” George said in surprise. “Wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon.” Hermione shrugged.
“Yes well, I suppose I show up for rather important moments, such as this one,” she said simply, looking sadly at the scene unfolding before her. Ron had asked Fred who he was going to the ball with.
“Angelina,” he said simply. George watched as Hermione’s face fell, the smile dropping off her face. The hurt was swept from her face almost immediately though, as she hid her expression in her Potions book once again. George stood to the side of the table and watched the rest of the conversation take place. Angelina agreeing to go to the ball with Fred. The twins leaving for the owlery. Hermione frustratedly heading up to bed. She had wanted Fred to ask her to the ball. And he had stopped that from happening. How bloody stupid George, what were you thinking? How did you not see this?
“Blimey,” George said suddenly. “I had no idea. I was so bloody stupid, I didn’t even think about who Fred wanted to take.” Hermione shrugged again
“It’s not as though he would’ve asked me,” she said sadly. “You all were sixth years, I was a fourth year. Wouldn’t be up your standards eh?” She smiled slightly at this. “And besides, it gets better.” George gave her a questioning look.
“You’ll find out in a bit, but now I must leave you,” Hermione said quickly. “Goodbye George!” And with that, she was gone, and so was the Gryffindor common room.
Oh, food. Sweet, delicious, Hogwarts food. So close, and yet so far. The smell was practically intoxicating. George landed directly in the middle of the Gryffindor table, sitting just feet away from the twins. He looked right to see his only sister approaching the opposite side of the table, looking furious. Fred looked up, chewing a mouthful of lamb chops.
“Whazzuh mah’er baby sis’er?” he said with a smile. He swallowed his food and frowned, noticing that Ginny sat down with an infuriated sigh. “Is some bloke messing with you Gin? Cause we’ll be happy to murder him for yeh,” he said quite seriously, nudging George. Ginny shook her head roughly and spooned mashed potatoes onto her plate, looking quite murderous.
“Ron’s bloody daft,” she said rather harshly, stabbing her fork into a pork chop. “He asked Hermione to the ball as a last resort, and when she said she already had a date, he sodding well said that he didn’t believe her. Like he didn’t believe someone would want to go with her! The nerve of him.” She stabbed her fork into her lamb. George watched as Fred’s face darkened furiously, going unnoticed by both Ginny and George. Ginny sighed loudly.
“And of course I wanted Harry to ask me, but not as a last resort, which is what it seems like,” she said sadly, now absentmindedly stirring her potatoes. “If he had asked me sooner I would’ve gone with him. Not that Neville’s a bad bloke or anything . . . I just worry that he’ll be stepping all over my feet.” Fred seemed to not hear this whole part.
“Who’s she going with?” Fred asked innocently. Ginny looked up from her plate questioningly.
“Who? Hermione?” she asked. Ginny smiled slightly and leaned forward, lowering her voice to a whisper. “As long as you promise not to tell anyone, because she told me to keep it quiet.” The twins nodded eagerly, leaning forward. “She’s going with Viktor Krum.” George’s jaw dropped, while Fred frowned, probably thinking he’d have no chance against an International Quidditch player.
“Viktor Krum?!” George exclaimed loudly, much to Ginny’s displeasure, as she smacked him upside the head.
“I told you, keep it quiet you dolt!” Ginny said threateningly. Her expression softened slightly seeing Fred’s face. “You alright Fred? You look a bit peckish.” George watched as Fred immediately changed his expression.
“I’m positively magnificent Gin,” he said with a wide grin. “Has George told you our plan to help him win dear Angelina Johnson’s love?” Ginny shook her head and leaned forward excitedly.
“Oh, do tell,” she said grinning widely. George, however, missed the rest of the plot, as he was yanked away to unchartered territory.
George fearfully grabbed for the doorknob, though he knew his hand would slide right through it. He was standing in the fourth year girls dormitory, one of the few places in all of Hogwarts he and Fred had never ventured to.
Two giggling girls walked right through him, sending a chill up his spine. George turned around to see only one bed occupied. A disheveled looking Hermione sat on her bed, slowly plowing through her small pile of presents. She had clearly already opened Mrs. Weasley’s gift, as she was wearing a bright gold hand-knit sweater with maroon detail. George jumped slightly as a familiar voice floated through his head.
Another book. Shocking. Do the boys even realize that I’m a girl at all? That perhaps there’s more to me than just books and quills and stationary?
George watched her frustratedly set aside a particularly large, antique looking novel. She attempted a smile at atleast the intentions of Harry’s present, but she still appeared slightly disappointed. Hermione giggled lightly at her next gift, a big box of assorted Weasley prototypes. George could quite clearly see the irony she found amusement in, as she was, after all, Hermione Granger, and very anti-rule-breaking.
Atleast it’ll give me a few laughs, Hermione’s voice floated through George’s head, as she read the label of a fireworks package. She chuckled lightly to herself before frowning at her final gift. It seemed that she hadn’t even seen it at first. It was tiny, small enough to fit in the palm of her little hands. Hermione flipped the silver wrapped box over in her hands, looking for a tag.
That’s odd. I wonder who it’s from…
She pulled off the top of the box quickly, and gazed at its contents with utmost amazement. George moved to the side of her bed to get a better look. Within the tiny box was a small silver clock pendant, attached to a long matching silver chain. The face was an indefinable color. As Hermione’s fingertips brushed the pendant’s rim, the face changed to a glowing orange color. Hermione smiled slightly at the delicate gift in her hands. She pulled it slowly out of the box and flipped the pendant over. A light loopy inscription was scrawled across the back.
Keep the time of your life closest to your heart. Hermione slipped the silver chain over her head and watched as the small pendant fell directly across her heart. She didn’t know who it was from, and for once, the mystery of it all didn’t seem to bother her.
It was later in the afternoon, George realized, as he appeared in the middle of a foot of snow and a massive snowball fight. George ducked instinctively as a snowball flew towards him. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he realized that the snowball had been tossed by, himself. He shook his head and jogged over to a bundled up Hermione, sitting on the stairs with her nose in one of her novels.
George plopped down beside her and took in her view of the snowball war before her. Fred and George had paused their pummeling of Ron and Harry, as Ron had just pancaked to the ground in order to escape the eyeline of a certain group of Beauxbatons females. The other three fell to the ground in laughter as Fleur Delacour gave Ron the most horrified look before continuing on with her fellow classmates.
“I still cannot believe your brother married her,” a voice scoffed. George jumped in his seated position and looked to his left, seeing a rather curious looking Hermione staring out at the grounds. She laughed at the look on George’s face. “Oh alright she’s not all that bad anymore. She definitely was though.” George shook his head.
“You really need to stop doing that,” George said quickly, taking a deep breath of relief. “Now what is the significance of this memory?” Hermione chuckled.
“Honestly, I’m not sure,” she said with a small smile, looking at Fred’s currently snow covered face. “I know I was a bit miserable this whole day. But, apparently Fred seemed to be quite fond of it.” George frowned slightly and looked to Fred as well. His eyes widened suddenly as Fred’s voice floated through his head.
What does she see in Krum anyways? I mean honestly? Other than the good looks. Oh, and of course there’s the whole World famous Quidditch player. Dammit Fred you should’ve just told George no and asked her yourself. Instead she probably doesn’t even see you. Great job mate, you’re a daft bugger you are.
George looked quickly to Hermione, looking for a reaction, but already she was gone. George sighed as the other Hermione stood up as well, claiming she needed to go get ready. Ron gaped at her, earning him a snowball to the head from George.
“Who’re you going with?*” he shouted at her back, wiping snow out of his hair. Hermione simply waved a dismissive hand at him and continued her way into the castle. Fred sent a rather large snowball at the back of Ron’s head. He turned around quickly, his face red.
“What the bloody hell was that for?!” Ron bellowed at Fred, scooping up a massive pile of snow and chucking it at him, missing horribly. Fred half-shrugged with a laugh.
For irritating the mickey out of her.
“For being a git that’s why,” he shouted back, sending ten snowballs zooming Ron’s way. George laughed a good bit as the scene dissolved, forcing him to leave his twin once again.
The crowded Great Hall appeared before George’s eyes, decorated lavishly for the Yule Ball. He found that he was sitting at one of the smaller round tables, directly beside Fred Weasley himself, clad in a smart looking set of classic black and white robes. He had been laughing at the sight of George and Angelina dancing ridiculously on the other side of the dance floor.
They had made the switch not long before, and George had explained how much he really did like Angelina, which apparently went over quite well. Fred was now sitting alone at an empty table, simply watching the dance floor with a bit of a mist in his eyes. George couldn’t help but feel bad for Fred’s state. It was his fault that Fred was now dateless and alone. George felt a sudden tap on his shoulder.
Well, atleast she gave me some warning this time. He turned, but who he did see, was not Hermione, making his jaw drop to the ground.
“How’s it going brother?” Fred asked his twin with a grin, slapping a hand on his shoulder.
*= Dialogue from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Chapter 22, The Unexpected Task and Chapter 23, The Yule Ball. All by J.K. Rowling.
A/N: I'm sorry for the long wait and for the cliff-hanger, but this time I can honestly promise that within a week the next chapter will be up! I will most likely have alot more time when I get back to school (which makes little sense I know, you'd think you would have more time during the summer, but with work it doesn't happen!) so I will definitely be knocking more chapters out quickly. Also, check out my new fanfic, The War, AU set in the First Wizarding War, and also Just Quidditch if you haven't checked it out yet. Hope you loved it and please read and review!
Write a Review It's a funny thing.. time: Dates, Gifts, and Snowballs