Hermione glanced at her watch as she bustled down the corridors, eager not to be late for her important prefect meeting. Well, that’s what McGonagall’s letter said anyway. Brushing canoodling couples and dawdling first years out of her way, she arrived at the Transfiguration corridor, in which her fellow prefects were already assembling. One thing that struck her as odd however was the boy leaning up against one of the desks, George Weasley. It confused her because he was neither was he a prefect nor was he invited (well she didn’t know that for sure but come on, it was George Weasley).
As the bell started to ring signalling curfew to the younger years or in Hermione’s case, the beginning of her meeting. She rushed into the room and slid into her usual spot on the third row next to Ron.
She looked around after greeting the people in her row, only this time when she looked around; George had disappeared completely from sight. She tried to brush it off as just him chatting however she was just rather curious as to where he’d disappeared too. She told herself that he was probably talking about Quidditch with Ron or Alicia, however curiosity soon took the better of her.
‘Ron?’ She asked in a hushed voice, aware that the meeting had been due to start three minutes ago, ‘Why was George in here? Where did he go?’
‘Erm…’ His face and ears blushing bright pink, ‘Just family stuff you know,”
Hermione knew that he was lying; however Professor McGonagall chose that moment to sweep into the room, officially calling the meeting to order. It prevented Hermione from pursuing the matter further.
Although she knew it was probably nothing there was just something that intrigued Hermione about the situation. George usually avoided all figures of authority. However something about him made her stomach flip. It confused her because although it wasn’t the first time it had happened, it was the first time she’d really noticed it.
There was something about the way his presence changed the atmosphere of the room and his cheeky grin never failed to make her smile. The air she’d presented however stopped her from showing her amusement because she was Hermione Granger: the girl who was ‘supposed’ to be the studious one, the girl who was ‘supposed’ to stop their pranks in the first place.
Hermione wasn’t really paying attention to the meeting with her thoughts started turning to how people actually perceived her. It was something she generally worried about because of some comments people made. Did people really think that she was stuck up just because she was clever?
She went through the mental list of whom she spoke to and tried to second-guess what they thought about her, especially people that didn’t know her that well but she felt herself lingering over George in particular. Did he just think she was his little brother’s friend? Or did he appreciate her intelligence and studious nature? Or did he just think that she was a show-off? She didn’t know why she was thinking so deeply about his perception of her, maybe it was because she’d have only just seen him but dismissed it as mainly just curiosity. She shook herself as she realised that she’d probably been missing important parts of the meeting after hearing little snippets of McGonagall’s speech such as ‘Black Market’ and ‘drunk fourth years.’
In all fairness it was common knowledge throughout Hogwarts that there was a Black Market with Firewhiskey, powdered dragon claw and anything else you could think of was readily available to anyone who asked around enough. The Slytherin’s were at the top of the suspect list in Hermione’s opinion, however she knew she had a biased view due to their previous rendezvous so she couldn’t declare her suspicions in the meeting without declaring war on them.
By the time McGonagall had finished informing the prefects of the changes to the rota and her ‘growing concerns’ it was already well past curfew and although the prefects could legitimately be out of their dormitory at that time Ron and Hermione in particular wanted to avoid any undue confrontations with Filch so they scurried off up the stairs after a quick goodbye to some of their friends.
‘So,’ Hermione started as soon as they were on the staircase, ‘What were you and George really talking about then earlier?’
Ron looked at her with a worried expression before turning bright red, which Hermione had already anticipated. She knew it meant he was lying.
‘Just family stuff.’ He replied hurriedly leaving Hermione even more intrigued as to what the big secret was. Pausing on it for a moment she decided to let the subject go and resolved to ask Harry about it later. If Ron were up to something then Harry would know about it and unlike Ron, Harry would hopefully confide in her.
The rest of the walk back up to the Gryffindor Tower was relatively silent with only the occasional clearing of the throat or the grumblings of paintings that there were students out of bed. Both Ron and Hermione had been accustomed to these obligatory grumbles every time they patrolled the corridors so the portraits were ignored and left to go back to solitary darkness.
Ron entered the Gryffindor Common Room first, after announcing the password of ‘Sir Cadogen’ to the Fat Lady with Hermione following closely behind, not at all surprised by his blatant obliviousness to the manners of a normal gentleman and letting a lady pass first.
After clamouring past some of the first years who had taken up camp on the floor, they managed to take up one of their favourite spots next to the fire in which had been saved by Harry in the busy common room. Hermione pulled out one of her potions textbooks out of her bag and started on the essay which Harry and Ron could only even attempt to write the title for.
Sighing, she began to recite the properties of moonstone for the two boys who were quickly scribbling down the points, their noses close to touching the parchment through their anxiousness not to miss anything. There was a movement out of the corner of her eye, which made her stop and look, which was a rarity for Hermione.
The boys looked up, eager for the next point; however they went unnoticed by Hermione who was bedazzled by the image of George across the common room. She didn’t know why but she found herself being drawn to him, whether it was his spontaneity or his care free attitude she had noticed the odd glance she gave him had turned into a look and then the look into a stare over the past few weeks and she was pretty sure that he had noticed too.
He locked eyes with her, seeming completely incognizant to the noise of people around him. She quickly averted her eyes to anywhere except him, though she saw his wink before she’d managed to successfully complete her action.
For some reason, rather than make her feel flattered by the little piece of attention he was bestowing upon her, she was overcame with anger, which she couldn’t control. The actions she took next stunned even herself, with her not believing she had actually got that amount of anger built up inside her. Storming over to George in the corner, she snatched the bag he was holding out to first years before berating him about his immaturity and irresponsibility.
Walking back from her verbal attack she felt upset with herself. That she’d ever stoop so low to threaten someone who was trying to utilise their enterprise skills with her prefect status or even worse, their mother. It wasn’t as if he was killing anyone since he’d already tested the products on himself and Fred and it was only trying to give the first years an extra bit of pocket money but for some reason, in that moment, her irrationality had overpowered her reason.
Snatching up her bag and books, Hermione rushed up the stairs, knowing that now she was upset she would get no work done herself, let alone do it for Harry and Ron too. Hermione felt she needed the comfort and familiarity of her own dormitory as she felt herself being thrown into a realm of new feelings and new experiences which actually scared her.
She slowed as she reached the entrance to the branch of the girl’s dormitory however she stumbled over a few of the steps as she attempted to reach her dormitory a little faster. The door of the bathroom was open as she swung the dormitory door open. She rushed inside the bathroom slamming the door and sending shudders into the very foundations of Hogwarts its self before splashing her face with cold water from the sink.
As she looked up from the mirror, she didn’t feel she recognised the person staring back at her. This hadn’t been taught in lessons or books, how to overcome emotions, and she didn’t know how she was going to cope with it. An obstacle placed in front of her for once baffled Hermione Granger and she didn’t feel she could overcome it.
‘What is happening to me? Why has George suddenly became so different in my eyes?’ The thoughts ran through her head and she mused them, over trying to find the answers. She didn’t know, however she was ninety eight percent sure that she didn’t want to know through fear of the unknown.
She felt angry with herself for just a simple over-reaction to just a simple issue which probably could have been solved with just a reasonable discussion. Why did George look so hurt when she started yelling? Something was happening to her and for some reason his hurt looks affected her more than she could have ever thought they would.
It was several minutes before Hermione felt that she could emerge from her sanctuary of serenity; she felt more refreshed, but more confused. Climbing into bed, she tried to block out all of her feelings however the feat seemed to be an impossible task with images of the confrontation flooding her mind.
She wondered why she was dwelling on the situation so much, still not completely sure what was going on. Was it hormones? That was a good guess but then again, maybe not.
Hermione was just lying there, just thinking, when the rest of her dormitory filled in chattering and just sharing mindless gossip that they’d picked up in the common room and through dinner. They all stopped and stared at her as they passed her bed, the one nearest to the door. She didn’t particularly get on with any of the girls in her dorm, in her opinion they were generally a bunch of boy crazed air heads, so what they did next, even after she’d wished them away, really did shock her.
‘Are you okay, Hermione?’ Lavender asked, who sat herself on the edge of her bed. She had that kind look in her eye; the one that offered sympathy and a friendly ear to talk to but also one that was full of curiosity. Hermione wasn’t used to attention from the girls in her own year, instead preferring to spend time with Harry and Ron or Ginny, however it proved that some of the assumptions she’d made about the girls weren’t actually correct. In a way she had wished that she’d have become closer to the girls mostly because they’d shared a room for five years but nevertheless, even within a completely evil person, there can be cases of compassion/
‘Yeah, thanks, I’m just tired. Just finished off the potions homework.’ She replied after cautiously formulating her reply in her head so she did not inflame gossip about her ‘new beau’ or whatever they called it.
Although confused by her answer as the girls knew that Hermione had abandoned her homework two hours previously, they seemed satisfied with the idea that she was fine and just a little upset. Hermione however, was still confused as to what she was going to do about the new feelings she’d been experiencing.
Torn by just dismissing them or at least attempting to act upon them, Hermione waited up well on into the night to decide upon the best course of action she could take. Sometimes having the brains of a Ravenclaw but then the bravery of a Gryffindor, made decisions difficult to make. On the one hand she had her reason and logic but on the other she had courage and daring; the internal battle inside her began, as it did every time, as to which over ruled the other.
The Gryffindor in her won, obviously.
The glare of the moon shone directly on her face, causing her to realise that any attempt to fall asleep would be futile. Trying to make as little noise as possible, she pulled back the covers on her bed and unfurled her body, slipping her feet straight into the awaiting slippers. She tiptoed past Parvati’s bed, pausing slightly as she noticed her stirring in her sleep before whispering ‘ianua oileria’ which allowed the door to swing open silently.
Still silently creeping down the stairs, she heard a voice in the Common Room but was unfazed by it, as there were often students who inhabited there when they couldn’t sleep. She’d just walk right past them, pop into the kitchen in the corner of the Common Room, get herself some water then go straight back up to bed.
As she neared the foot of the stairs, she caught sight of a ginger tuft of hair popping up above the sofa nearest to the fire and as she looked closer she wanted to run away, realising whom it was. She had to draw on her Gryffindor courage, which allowed her to swallow hard and continue on her original journey.
‘George,’ she called out, half in a whisper sort of hoping he wouldn’t hear her, however by his startled voice, she knew he had. She walked closer to him but stopped in her tracks when she heard his frantic packing away, she wondered what he could possibly be doing.
As she approached further, she noticed that he had put his hands out in an attempt to guard what was behind his back. He looked flustered and had that same Weasley blush, Ron always had when he was embarrassed or trying to hide something. George looked somewhat like a five-year-old who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
‘What you got there?’ She teased knowing full well that she’d manage to get it out with a little bit of persuasion.
‘Erm…nothing,’ he replied hastily, backing away, pushing the things behind his back further behind him. She matched each shuffle he took with an even bigger step, peering over him as she backed him further into a corner. When he finally had nowhere else to move to he held up his hands to her, in an attempt to surrender.
‘Alright, alright. I’m sorry!’ He said sheepishly, although still not moving out of position.
‘Come on then, show me the evidence,’ she said. It was almost a singsong voice; she knew she was able to tease him. He seemed to find the situation less than humorous as he sheepishly slunk away, throwing his head into an armchair whilst holding his head in his hands, groaning loudly.
It took Hermione a moment to realise what she was seeing as she was too engrossed in George’s reaction. He never normally made so much of a to do about his wrongdoing. However when she actually registered what was there, she gasped before bending down further to investigate further. She couldn’t believe what she was actually seeing. George gave a further groan as she riffled through his wares.
By the time she’d finished emptying all the boxes, there were crates full of fanged Frisbees, exploding quills, silencing sweets and opened love potions, with their contents strewn across the floor. She spotted the bright red order book at the bottom of one of the boxes; furiously riffling through it she spotted a name at the end of the list, which she knew would be there.
‘Ronald Weasley,’ she read aloud, ‘3x fainting fancies, 1x self-propelling custard pie, 2x WWW fireworks and 1x litre of Firewhiskey. To pay 3 galleons, 4 sickles and 7 Knuts from his next pocket money.’
Hermione looked shocked at the fact that George was the one who was actually running the Black Market, or at least that was what it looked like. And now the situation with Ron earlier, all made sense, he wasn’t exactly going to admit to her that he was involved with buying illegal goods, least of all land his brother in it for running the operation.
She started to giggle a little as she realised that not even one of her best friends could confide in her about his activities. What did he expect her to think really when she caught him rolling around drunk? She rolled his eyes at his lack of forward planning.
George looked confused at her sudden change in behaviour and wondered for a moment whether she had swallowed the Essence of Insanity hidden in one of the boxes somewhere. He slid off of the armchair and crouched down beside her on the floor as he brushed some of the goods beside her aside, allowing him to look into her eyes.
‘Erm… Hermione… Are you okay?’ he asked tentatively, not knowing what to expect from her reaction as her mood seemed to have changed so quickly. She tried to regain her composure a little, although she couldn’t help but let a few more giggles escape her lips.
‘You… you run the Black Market?’ She said accusingly, ‘You’re not organised enough!’ She burst out laughing a little more. This confused George even further, he wasn’t sure how to take this side of Hermione, he’d expected her to have called McGonagall by now, gotten him suspended or at the very least detention until the end of the year, but the fact he was laughing unnerved her. He decided to play along with her, ready for the consequences if her mood changed again.
‘Oi! I take that as an insult Miss Granger. This is a highly skilled and respected business. Half of the students in Hogwarts would be lost without me!’ Came his retort; Hermione mulled these words over for a second; he probably was right (although she wasn’t going to admit it). The business was obviously well run with the vast number of pages the ledger holding the orders contained.
‘Fair enough,’ she agreed. They sat there for a moment, in an almost comfortable silence with them both surveying the destruction Hermione had left on her crusade to explore every single one of George’s boxes. They looked at the floor, then again at each other before bursting out laughing at the mess.
‘Come on, I’ll help you tidy up.’ She told him, getting up off her knees and putting a few bottles back into one of the up turned boxes. George hastily followed her lead, throwing the Amortentia bottles into the box one after another. There was a smash in the box and both Hermione and George looked at each other, locking eyes before the strange sense of euphoria washed over them.
For Hermione, the smell of her comforting bed, freshly cut grass and the smell that she’d been around for the past half an hour; the musky smell of fire, and fruit mixed together: the smell of George. To her it was comforting and she wanted to be swathed in the scent, she wanted it to take her over.
For George it was the smell of his broom, the fresh air and a strawberry scent that ailed his senses. The strawberries at first confused him because he didn’t like strawberries, until he realised that it was the smell of Hermione’s shampoo that he loved so much.
They both looked at each other again and blushed, both wondering if the other had experienced the same. They both put their hands inside the box peering inside to try and retrieve the pieces of glass residing in there. George’s hand brushed Hermione’s and they both bumped heads as they tried to retreat.
Both had bright red faces, as they looked up at each other, conscious of the other. Hermione had felt a bolt of electricity go through her when George had only brushed his fingers across her hand. There was an instant spark between them. Something was changing inside Hermione but all she knew was that it was down to the boy in front of her.
George just let the euphoria override everything else and acted upon his male instincts. Taking Hermione’s hand, he felt her shiver under his touch, letting him gain the confidence to continue upon what he really wanted to do. Leaning closer to her, he focused on her lips, the soft pinkness with the shiny glow that came from a tiny bit of lip gloss seemed more appealing to him more than ever. She wasn’t the typical girl obsessed with make-up; she was just naturally beautiful.
Hermione felt nervous as she saw him draw closer, but was more confident that ever that this was what she wanted. She noticed him pause a little, just inches in front of her face. She swallowed hard before closing her eyes and taking the plunge.
The instant their lips connected, they seemed to fit together so perfectly, moving together in perfect harmony. The kiss was soft and tender but at the same time impulsive with just that little hint of danger. Nothing like anything either of them had experienced before, the kiss started off sparks between them and neither of them wanted to break that connection. George ran his hands through Hermione’s hair, making the kiss that little bit more passionate. She liked his touch and the way his fingers just caressed her scalp, making her feel relaxed and comfortable around the guy that was her best friend’s brother.
When they eventually pulled apart, George’s hand was still clasped around Hermione’s. They both looked down and then back up at each other having a little awkward glance at their intertwined fingers before giving a giggle. Hermione lost herself within his deep-sea blue eyes and although she couldn’t believe what they’d just done she was glad that she had. Hermione finally knew the feeling she’d been experiencing-love.
George couldn’t have felt higher in his life even if he’d tried. The kiss was explosive and he could taste her minty breath on her lips.
‘So,’ he said, ‘What now?’ Hermione looked at him for a second before knowing almost instantly the answer to that question, and by the smile on George’s face she knew he did too. They would hide their relationship from everyone. The secrecy and the danger would make everything seem so much more exciting, more intense although it was silently assumed that both Fred and Ginny would be told.
Hermione removed her hand from George’s as she leant over and gave him a peck on the cheek before standing up and surveying the enormity of the task of tidying up that they had instead.
‘So what were you doing then before I so rudely interrupted?’ She asked him, still with that teasing voice she had on earlier.
‘Well… I wouldn’t call it rudely as such,’ he said with a smirk, ‘but I was just about to take all of this to the Room of Requirement to fill some orders, before any ‘unexpected’ visitors came down.’
Hermione thought for a second, should she just leave him to it? Or help him with his campaign to corrupt the rest of Hogwarts? She made her decision and started to put more of the goods back into the boxes.
‘Come on then!’ she chanted. George looked at her in utter disbelief obviously not expecting that the great Hermione Granger, world renounced for being a solid rule follower no matter the circumstances, would help him with filling orders for the Black Market. He asked himself for a moment whether he should accept her help before deciding that any help he had would help him get to bed quicker.
‘I can’t believe that Hermione Granger would stoop as low as to help with the Black Market.’ He told her. She thought for a moment before cleverly replying.
‘It’s as you said Georgie Boy, what would the Hogwarts students do without it? Plus is wanting to spend time with you such a crime?’ She replied sweetly, looking like butter wouldn’t melt.
George winked at her as they finished throwing the last of the things into the boxes. Hermione paused for a moment considering the fact that she was going to be walking around the castle several hours after curfew.
'George, I'm going to get the map,' she told him. He nodded at her as she speeded off upstairs, eager to return to George, only slowing when she got closer to the boys dormitory. The last thing she wanted was for the boys to wake up at the sound of her clunky footsteps.
In haste, she pushed the door open, letting it give a little creak as she crept in. Neville gave a little snore, which made her snigger, but as she moved closer to the centre of the room, her discrete interruption had gone completely unnoticed.
'Accio map.' she whispered in a low, quiet voice. Hermione felt only the slightest bit guilty as the map zoomed into her hand, it was more the not asking that bothered her, not the taking it. She knew Harry wouldn't have minded that much at her borrowing it well as long as she returned it in its original state. As she skipped back downstairs, the utter happiness that she felt came through with the huge smile evident on her face saying all it needed to.
George was waiting by the foot of the stairs for her, stunned at the events from the night. He had never seen Hermione as particularly pretty before tonight, she had always had that condescending, disapproving air which had overpowered all sense of romantic feelings, however her intelligence, although sometimes irritating was useful for all the Weasley family throughout their work. George couldn't even imagine how many spells Hermione had unwittingly helped them out with in the shop.
He realised that she didn't get the credit that she deserved for the work she actually did but even after tonight, as George watched her gorgeous chestnut hair bounce across her shoulders, he realised that there was something between them. A little spark, a connection which had formed. He just thought it was fate but whatever it was, he embraced it with open arms.
His smile grew as his eyes travelled to her legs, the gorgeous, slim looking ones that they were. He was almost relieved that she had returned, scared of the idea that she may have backed out and just abandoned him, leaving him there like a lovesick puppy. He just couldn't believe his luck but also cursed himself for not noticing her in this way before. He loved the way she hadn't reported him to McGonagall, which he had half expected her to.
The knowledge that she actually wanted to be there with him filled him with a joy that he had never felt before. She had of course had other choices such as reporting him but now, she would be an accessory to the crime, leaving him in the clear, not that that mattered to him.
Hermione reached into her pocket for her wand, before tapping the tatty piece of well used parchment and uttering the words, ‘I solemnly swear I am up to no good,’ the map was disturbingly quiet, the only image moving was Mrs. Norris and a few of the ghosts but when Hermione noted the time as two thirty seven am she didn’t really know what she expected.
George peered over her shoulder and cautiously placed his arm around her waist, it sitting comfortably on the groove of her hips. Hermione shivered a little at his touch, so let it remain there, the action of endearment said a lot about a man in her opinion.
‘Ready?’ He asked her, sliding the map from her fingertips, gently brushing his fingers over the top of his hand. He picked up some of the boxes that remained on the armchair, balancing the map on top, leaving Hermione with only two to levitate with her wand. She preferred having her hands free in case of encounters with a sudden apparition of a teacher or Peeves.
As far as they could tell, all the ghosts were involved in a meeting of some sort on the first floor and Peeves seemed to be floating around on the astronomy tower but neither of them even wanted to imagine what he was doing. Probably leaving a trail of destruction in his path for Filch to have to tidy up and moan about in the morning.
They pushed open the door gingerly, trying not to wake the Fat Lady up although their attempts were in vain but seeing it was Hermione she settled back off to sleep without screeching and alerting the entire castle. Sometimes having the reputation of a goody two shoes was in her favour, although having a prefect badge didn’t do her any harm either.
They walked to the Room of Requirement with only a few snippets of small talk and banter to break the silence. It wasn’t exactly an awkward atmosphere between them however they were both very conscious of each other, neither knowing if the other was completely happy with the events that had occurred.
Hermione kept one eye on the map at all times which helped ease the awkwardness, it was particularly helpful when Peeves approached them from behind. It gave them enough warning to escape behind the tapestry leading to the blocked off passage.
When they finally reached the room, George took charge, specifying to the room that they wanted a place where they couldn’t be disturbed. The door appeared instantaneously and George held it open, in a very gentlemanly like manner, allowing Hermione to step through first.
Compared to the room that they had used for the meetings of Dumbledore’s Army, the room seemed to be particularly cushy, complete with its own firs and a small coffee table, complete with parcel wrapping and labels with two armchairs laid around it. It was almost like a replica of the Gryffindor Common Room although there was a coffee machine in the corner, which confused Hermione.
Surely the Room of Requirement couldn’t provide food and drinks; it was a violation of the Gamp’s Law of Transfiguration, although George answered her question when George pulled out a flash, coffee sachets and milk obviously well practised in the ritual.
They both sat down on the floor, leaving the boxes on the coffee table. Hermione curled up into George’s lap as he played with her hair in front of the fire. The position they’d found themselves in just seemed so natural, the awkwardness having disappeared without even the need for speech.
Hermione was almost upset when there was actually a, ‘ping,’ signalling the coffee machine was boiled. George stood up to make them both one whilst Hermione used the opportunity to pull the order ledger from the top of one of the boxes and started surveying the amount of orders that they had to complete.
The rush orders for things such as Firewhiskey came first, telling Hermione that there would be several parties within the next week. Then came the rest of the orders coming in order of how long they’d been waiting. Hermione took the hot steaming cup of coffee thankfully from George as she started on an order of seven fireworks for a sixth year. She wondered what they’d be used for but then she realised that that was the whole point of the Black Market, that nobody asked any questions.
George took the second order and after that they alternated racing each other to see who would finish the order first. The banter quickly started which lightened the atmosphere.
‘You realise I’m going to take in a mental note of all of these names just so I know what I can confiscate off of them?’ Hermione started teasingly. George looked horrified. He knew that if that happened people would stop buying things off of him, his reputation would be ruined.
‘Y-y-you can’t!’ he stuttered, stopping midway through wrapping an Fanged Frisbee. She gave him a wink and he threw the Frisbee at her. As she passed it back to him, she remembered the hurt she’d seen in his eyes earlier, she just didn’t like the way she’d made him feel.
‘George, I am sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to go crazy.’ He looked up at her, glassy eyes, before standing up and going to sit next to her. He took her face within his hands and looked her in the eye.
‘Hermione, you have nothing to be sorry about. I was out of order. Testing products on first years, I don’t actually know what I was thinking.’ There was a silence that resonated through the room as Hermione nestled her head into George’s chest, the previous school day catching up with her.
People didn’t realise sometimes how thankful Hermione was for the weekends, she just needed time to relax and catch up on her sleep. She wasn’t a robot like some people seemed to expect.
They stayed in that position for a little while before George heard soft snores coming from the woman beneath him. Chuckling a little, he asked the room for a bed to be added and as he thought, a king size, four-poster bed appeared.
He lifted Hermione up, then walked over to the bed, pulling the covers back slightly before sliding her between the sheets and pulling the covers up over her. He started to walk away, very conscious of the fact he had more orders to fill and that he most definitely didn’t want to slide in next to Hermione on their first date, but as he turned, he heard a small voice.
‘Stay with me?’ She asked softly.
He walked back to the bed, kicking his shoes off before placing himself in the spot next to Hermione where she’d opened the covers. As he lay down, he flicked the lights off with his wand, telling himself that he’d sort everything else out tomorrow. Hermione placed her head on his chest and wrapped her arms tightly around him before dropping back off to sleep.
And then that was how they stayed all night, him hugging her and her hugging him, both in the mind set of tranquillity and euphoria, thankful of the fact that they were just together.
A.N Hey guys! Here's the first chapter of my new short story collection regarding Hermione and George. I love their pairing and I hope you think that this piece does them both justice. Please leave a little review letting me know what you've thought!
Write a Review The Prankster and The Prefect: Black Markets and Falling In Love