Clever Mischief Chapter 27: Seriouser and Seriouser
Title: Clever Mischief 27: Seriouser and Seriouser
Date: Wednesday, November 18th, 2005
Location: Three Broomsticks, London
Characters: Hermione, George
Rating: Any Age
Hermione had a new admiration for Fred and George after this week. She had never realized just how nerve-wracking and difficult it was to plan a date. When she'd received the owl from George a few days ago giving her carte blanche in planning their outing for tonight, she'd been pleasantly surprised and had anticipated thinking of somewhere fun for them to go. Now, after several days of consideration and comparing various possibilities, she had to admit that it wasn't as easy as one might think.
Her dates with George tended to be more academic and quiet, in a way, while her dates with Fred were usually more physical and active in ways that she enjoyed. Since George seemed to take her to events and museums that he somehow knew she'd enjoy, she wanted to think of something that he'd like since she was planning this. It wasn't that either of the twins took her out to do things they weren't fond of, as neither would necessarily do something that bored them just to please her, but they did each have their own style, which made each date different and comparison impossible.
She was now walking towards Hogsmeade without a definite idea of where they were going tonight. It was cold and snow was on the ground, but the night was clear and quite beautiful. After work on Wednesday, she had taken the Floo to Edinburgh and checked one of the Muggle newspapers to see if there were any activities that she thought George might enjoy. With the holidays approaching, it was mostly an assortment of holiday themed plays and events, or winter festivities, and none of it was quite what she had in mind.
By the time she arrived at the Three Broomsticks, she had decided that George would probably enjoy going to dinner somewhere quiet that gave them the opportunity to talk. They could go to London and then possibly take a carriage ride through the park to look at the stars after dinner. With that decision in mind, she entered the pub smiling and took a seat at a table near the door to wait for George to arrive.
And George arrived minutes later breathless from the crystalline chill outside. His cheeks were rosy from the quick dash along Hogsmeade's streets and the cold evening air. He'd been quieter than usual all day, lost in thought about seeing Hermione tonight. He and Fred hadn't talked as much as usual. It was difficult when one of them was yearning to see her and the other was trying to ignore that he wasn't included that night. Neither acknowledged it, but they both knew the simple truth: this was harder than either of them had thought it would be.
But one look at Hermione sitting in the pub when he slipped inside in a gust of wind, and he knew that every moment spent with her was worth whatever anxiety he might experience when he wasn't with her.
"Hello," he said softly, arriving at her table and running a hand through his messy hair. Fucking hell, he wanted to take her in arms right now. He wanted to kiss her and then find some quiet, romantic place and go further... and he knew he couldn't. Putting those thoughts aside, he instead knelt beside her to drop a light kiss against her cheek, lingering longer than he should.
"Hello," Hermione said. Her cheek burned where his lips pressed against her skin, and she glanced at him when he didn't pull away quickly. She reached up and brushed his hair from his forehead, letting her fingers graze his skin for a moment of indulgence before she reluctantly dropped her hand. "Would you like a drink to warm up or are you ready to go?"
His breath caught and his eyes closed for a moment as he fought off the urge to kiss her. Regaining some level of control, he stood and took a step back. "Whatever you'd like tonight, love. I'm yours." Oh. He hadn't meant to say that exactly, but he didn't regret his words.
Hermione blinked and unconsciously licked her lips. Perhaps a quiet meal somewhere wasn't the best idea, after all. Her self control was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain around Fred or George, and her attraction to George had always been more electric, in a way. With Fred, it was a slow burn that was getting hard to stop before they went too far. With George, it was somewhat like a firestorm from the first casual touch, and she was scared that she'd be unable to pull back before long. She didn't want to think about that now, though, because it was something that frightened her in regard to both Fred and George, and she wasn't ready to consider what might have to be done.
Tonight would be fun, and they'd enjoy themselves. She'd save serious contemplation for the time when it became necessary. For now, she had a handsome date waiting for her attention. She smiled at George and stood up. "I think we can get something to warm up while we have dinner," she said. "I know a place in London that I thought we might go to tonight."
He took her hand, threading their fingers together and trying to ignore how even that small action made his heartbeat speed up. "That sounds perfect," he said. "I haven't been to London in... years." He closed his eyes again, this time for a different reason. Remembering. "Not since the war, since the wreckage of Diagon."
Smiling at her as he came back to himself, he added, "I'd love to go to London with you."
"I rarely go to London," she admitted softly. "I don't really have a need since Hogsmeade has most everything and, what it doesn't, I can find in Edinburgh easily." After the war, no one tried to rebuild Diagon and now there were numerous smaller Wizarding sections in various areas. Diagon still stood in ruins, which saddened Hermione, both because it used to be such a symbol of this world with so many happy memories for her and because it was a reminder of the destruction of war. "Seeing Diagon the way it is now... perhaps it will force people never to forget, and to prevent history from repeating itself in the future."
She shook her head and smiled. "I apologize. I didn't intend for conversation to become quite so serious. The restaurant where I plan to take you is called Façade, and it's a Wizarding place in a little magical community in Notting Hill. I've gone there a few times since it opened and it's very enjoyable. We can take the Floo."
They walked to the fireplace, and she led the way. When George joined her on the other side, she unconsciously took his hand and led him the short distance down the alley from the public Floo toward Façade. When they stepped inside, she looked at the glass ceiling and walls, enjoying the view of the winter scene outside the warm restaurant. It was beginning to get crowded, but they'd managed to beat the dinner crowd, thankfully. She looked at George and smiled. "What do you think?"
"This is wonderful," George murmured, looking around at the comfortable room and the laughing, happy witches and wizards around them. There was something be said for going to a Wizarding restaurant instead of a Muggle one. You could wear whatever you wanted and you didn't have to lower your voice or hide who you were.
A petite brunette witch in black and white robes greeted them. "Welcome," she said in a Ukrainian accent. "For two?"
"Yes, for two," Hermione confirmed with a friendly smile. She and George followed the hostess to a table near the far glass wall that looked out onto a courtyard. She was pleased when George held out her chair for her. "Thank you."
"Your server will be with you shortly," the hostess said after handing them each a menu.
Hermione looked outside and admired the beautiful winter scene. "This is a lovely place to visit in the spring," she told George. "This courtyard is filled with flowers and there are tables outside in little nooks so you can enjoy the scent of the landscaping. I've never been here during winter, but I love their display outside. The fairy lights are a lovely touch."
George could visualize it, and he brushed his foot against Hermione's under the table. "I'll bet it's lovely," he said. "We should come back in the spring." He nearly added no matter which of us you choose, but they never talked about that on their dates and he didn't want to bring it up now.
"We should," she agreed, glad that he'd mentioned something in the future regardless of her dating him and Fred right now. She shifted in her chair when she felt his foot brush against hers, which only resulted in her leg bumping his. When had the tables here gotten to be so small? She'd certainly never noticed when Harry had brought her here or the time she'd eaten here with Ginny.
Glancing at the menu, he said, "Any recommendations?"
"They have really good chicken dishes, and Harry enjoys the fish," she said, fully aware of his leg pressed against hers beneath the table. It didn't matter that she was wearing a long wool skirt because she was certain she could feel the warmth of his body despite the barrier. She was relieved when a young man came over to take their drink order. She ordered warm pumpkin juice, which was a favorite drink during cold weather.
George ordered the same, and as the waiter retreated, he was distracted by someone waving at them from across the restaurant.
"Look, it's Penny Clearwater," George said to Hermione, waving back. "You know she's Oliver's fiancée, right? I never would have guessed they'd've ended up together."
Hermione looked up and waved at Penny before she went back to studying her menu. "Yes, I know," she said. "Penny comes to Hogwarts to visit Oliver occasionally. She's nice as well as smart, but definitely not the person I would have expected to end up with Oliver Wood. For one thing, she's actually a female and not a broom."
George choked on a sip of water, spluttering as he laughed. "Good point," he said. "That boy definitely has Quidditch on the brain."
"Well! Trust me, I saw Wood's ridiculous obsession with Quidditch firsthand via Harry during several years, so I'm surprised he stopped playing long enough to let Penny into his life. Of course, you know all about that since he was your captain, too," she said. Her distaste for Quidditch had just gotten worse after the war, and now she rarely even went to Hogwarts matches unless forced.
The waiter arrived with their drinks, and George said to Hermione, "I think I'll get the salmon. Are you ready to order as well?"
She nodded. "I'd like the roast beef with carrots and mash. I‘d like the house dressing for my salad, please," she said.
"It's good to be able to get up to see Ollie again," George said thoughtfully after the waiter retreated. "Much as we loved Canada, I've got to say that I missed certain people around here too." He bounced his knee against hers.
"Certain people around here missed you, too."
"I don't think we ever really meant to stay away that long," George said, shaking his head. "It's funny how the years can accumulate before you even realize it. I'm so glad old Zonko decided to sell his shop, though. It was high time we came home."
"I'm glad that you found out he was selling and decided to come back," she said, nudging his knee with hers the way he had done earlier. "Life is much more interesting now."
He took her hand across the table as they waited for their orders to arrive. "I want to sneak up to Hogwarts some time and watch you at work. You must be a devastatingly good librarian."
She moved her fingers to entwine with his. "I think you're crazy if you want to actually watch me work." Laughing, she shook her head. "Trust me when I tell you that my job is fulfilling to me and that I really do enjoy it, but it is not at all entertaining or worth watching. I basically shelve books, fill out paperwork, and help students with research when asked. I am quite good at the job, though, and thankful that Minerva gave me the chance."
When their meals arrived, they both ate in silence for a few moments, enjoying each other's company and the soft brush of their feet and knees against each other. George was supremely aware of every movement Hermione made. He could barely keep his eyes off her and on his food.
"This is a great place," he said to her, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice. He felt warmed to the core, though he suspected it was more the company than the drink.
The food was good, but Hermione barely tasted any of it. How could she focus on her meal when she felt George's gaze on her all the time? It was becoming familiar to catch him looking at her, and yet it still flustered her to catch him staring with a certain expression on his face that she couldn't quite decipher.
By the time they were finished with their dinner, she was slightly flushed and all too conscious of everything regarding George Weasley. She finished her juice and got herself under control before she smiled at him. "Isn't it? It's one of the few that is worth a trip to London," she said. When her gaze met his, everything else around them faded. She had to force herself to look away before she gave in to the desire to lean over the table and kiss him. Maybe a carriage ride wasn't the best idea after all.
"What's next?" George asked, smiling his thanks at their waiter for the cheque and depositing the right number of coins on the table. Besides me trying not to pin you to the nearest wall and snogging you until we've both forgotten our own names, he added mentally. The flush on her cheeks was absolutely enticing, and he wanted to see how far down it extended. Chiding himself for such absolutely inappropriate thoughts, he stood and offered her his hand.
That was a good question. Considering her reaction to him under normal circumstances, not to mention how she felt right now after just sharing a meal, she didn't think her original plan was very smart. She took his hand and stood up, rapidly trying to think of something else to occupy the rest of the evening. She decided to suggest the Muggle cinema, so she was rather surprised when she said, "I thought a carriage ride through the park might be nice this evening."
"That sounds wonderful," he said, very aware of the way their palms felt pressed against each other. They wandered out the front door into the chilly London evening. George slipped his arm around her shoulder to ward off the cold.
Fuck, he was aroused. He'd never reacted so much to someone before, and being so close to her, he could barely think straight. Trying to push it away, he murmured, "Be good to get out of the cold and into a carriage."
When they left, it was colder than it had been when they arrived. Hermione shivered as the initial cold air touched her cheeks and pulled her scarf tighter around her neck. George put his arm around her shoulder, and she instinctively snuggled closer for warmth. She put on her gloves before they started walking towards the park.
"Well, I imagine that the carriage will still be rather cold, but I think you get a heavy blanket for the ride. We might want to stop and get hot chocolate to take with us, so we'll stay warm," she said, trying to ignore just how close they were and not think about how romantic a carriage ride during the winter was going to be because such thoughts just led to things that she was putting off thinking about.
Walking by a park, George saw three black carriages, complete with drivers in black tophats. "There we go," he said, pointing to them and steering them both toward it. Selecting the first one, George nodded at the driver and opened the door for Hermione.
"Mind your skirt doesn't catch in the wheel," George said as he swung the little door open for her. The carriage was open on top and large enough for four people, with comfortable leather seats. George was more than happy for the two of them to have one bench seat to themselves, leaving the rest of the carriage empty.
"I think the door is far enough away that it shouldn't be a problem, but I'll be careful," she said after she studied the distance for a moment. She stepped up into the carriage and sat down, making room for George when he climbed in behind her.
On the seat across from theirs lay a green blanket that was slightly scratchy but very welcome on this cold night. She picked it up and spread it over their laps. "There, that's better." She smiled up at George and was unable to stop herself from looking at his lips when they were so close.
The carriage started off with a shudder but George didn't notice that they were moving. He was too aware of the line of Hermione's gaze. Fuck it, if she was thinking about kissing him too, he wasn't going to try to stop himself again.
"Hermione," he sighed, weaving his fingers through her hair. "Hermione," he whispered again, his lips brushing hers as he pronounced her name like a prayer. He'd never wanted anything so badly in all his life.
Hermione reached up and ran her gloved fingers through George's loose hair. She tilted her head back and pressed her lips against his. The way he whispered her name made her tummy tighten and her body heat up. When he pulled back, she murmured, "George," before she leaned up to kiss him again.
God, she was perfect, and this moment was perfect, and he never wanted to stop kissing her. One hand cradled her cheek as the other carded through her hair and he pulled her closer, suddenly unable to breathe. He decided to steal some of her breath to compensate, and he licked her lower lip urgently, seeking permission and entrance.
His fingers were cold, and she idly thought that she needed to knit him some gloves for Christmas. When she and Fred had gone for the hayride, he hadn't worn gloves either. They'd both need a pair, then. She forgot all about cold fingers when his tongue traced her mouth. She parted her lips and moved her tongue against his lightly.
His groan might have been her name again, but he was too lost in her to pay attention. Their tongues met and danced, a fierce, fiery encounter that sent thrills of pleasure racing through him.
"Want you so much," he sighed, nipping at her lower lip, his eyes open and watching her as he kissed her again, his arms twining around her back to pull her closer. Somehow, between their movement and the carriage's rocking, they tilted and fell against the seat, Hermione nearly on her back with George leaning over her.
The switch in positions brought her back to her senses. There was a moment of panic when she had to fight the urge to just keep kissing him, but it just couldn't go further than kissing. "George, we have to stop," she said reluctantly, pulling him closer even as she tried to resist.
"We really should," he agreed, his actions belying his words as he unwound her scarf and kissed his way down her throat, aware that he was nearly lying on top of her. "Have to stop because..." he sucked at the juncture of neck and shoulder, "if we don't now, we might..."
"Oh," she moaned at the sensation of his mouth on her throat. Her eyes fluttered shut and she tilted her head unconsciously, giving him better access. She moved her hand across his shoulders before she brought it to rest against his chest. "George."
His hand moved restlessly down her side, against her ribcage and the gentle curve of her breast. No, he couldn't push. Not in this situation, not with her telling him she didn't want to go further.
Her eyes flew open and she pulled back quickly. He dragged himself away with a gasp and his hand dropped into his lap. They both sat up, unable to look away from each other, frozen for a moment and both aware just how dangerous this was becoming. His
George's eyes were dilated, his breath ragged. "I'm sorry. I... it's difficult to control myself around you, Hermione. I want you so badly." He wondered if honesty really was the best policy. He'd soon find out.
She bit her lip and tried to think about things logically. Logic wasn't working right now, and she was worried for a variety of reasons, none of which she could talk about right now. "I, uh, understand the difficulty at keeping control," she admitted finally. "We have to, though. I don't know what to do."
"I'm sorry, love," he said, taking her hand, dropping it quickly, and then rolling his eyes at himself and taking it again. "I was pushing too much. I'll stop. Grown man, right? I should be able to control my own actions. I'll be a gentleman, okay?"
"I'm sorry, too," she said, rubbing her thumb against his palm. She couldn't tell him every reason she was hesitant, not the least of which was the fact that she was also involved with his twin brother, but she had to tell him something so he'd not accept full blame and possibly withdraw from her. This was becoming even more complicated than she'd expected. "It's just been a long time since I was intimate with anyone, and Viktor was my first and only, so I'm really not used to these feelings, and I just need time. You weren't pushing too much, George, but we're also in a very complex situation now, too, and it's not fair to Fred or either of us to forget that."
Her first and only? He bit back a "how is that possible?" though really, how was it possible? She was everything he could ever want, so how had other men been able to stay away? Well, maybe that was an easy question after all. She probably hadn't wanted anyone until she'd wanted...
Them. One of them. Damn it, this was getting more difficult by the minute.
George nodded. "This situation is... weird," he said at last, "but worth it." He didn't know what else to say, so he sat back and looked at the passing London streets, trying to ignore the fact that he still wanted her. He shivered, and it wasn't from the cold. Things were changing, and he knew that he and Fred and Hermione couldn't go on pretending everything was all right.
Date: Wednesday, November 18th, 2005
Location: Three Broomsticks, London
Characters: Hermione, George
Rating: Any Age
Hermione had a new admiration for Fred and George after this week. She had never realized just how nerve-wracking and difficult it was to plan a date. When she'd received the owl from George a few days ago giving her carte blanche in planning their outing for tonight, she'd been pleasantly surprised and had anticipated thinking of somewhere fun for them to go. Now, after several days of consideration and comparing various possibilities, she had to admit that it wasn't as easy as one might think.
Her dates with George tended to be more academic and quiet, in a way, while her dates with Fred were usually more physical and active in ways that she enjoyed. Since George seemed to take her to events and museums that he somehow knew she'd enjoy, she wanted to think of something that he'd like since she was planning this. It wasn't that either of the twins took her out to do things they weren't fond of, as neither would necessarily do something that bored them just to please her, but they did each have their own style, which made each date different and comparison impossible.
She was now walking towards Hogsmeade without a definite idea of where they were going tonight. It was cold and snow was on the ground, but the night was clear and quite beautiful. After work on Wednesday, she had taken the Floo to Edinburgh and checked one of the Muggle newspapers to see if there were any activities that she thought George might enjoy. With the holidays approaching, it was mostly an assortment of holiday themed plays and events, or winter festivities, and none of it was quite what she had in mind.
By the time she arrived at the Three Broomsticks, she had decided that George would probably enjoy going to dinner somewhere quiet that gave them the opportunity to talk. They could go to London and then possibly take a carriage ride through the park to look at the stars after dinner. With that decision in mind, she entered the pub smiling and took a seat at a table near the door to wait for George to arrive.
And George arrived minutes later breathless from the crystalline chill outside. His cheeks were rosy from the quick dash along Hogsmeade's streets and the cold evening air. He'd been quieter than usual all day, lost in thought about seeing Hermione tonight. He and Fred hadn't talked as much as usual. It was difficult when one of them was yearning to see her and the other was trying to ignore that he wasn't included that night. Neither acknowledged it, but they both knew the simple truth: this was harder than either of them had thought it would be.
But one look at Hermione sitting in the pub when he slipped inside in a gust of wind, and he knew that every moment spent with her was worth whatever anxiety he might experience when he wasn't with her.
"Hello," he said softly, arriving at her table and running a hand through his messy hair. Fucking hell, he wanted to take her in arms right now. He wanted to kiss her and then find some quiet, romantic place and go further... and he knew he couldn't. Putting those thoughts aside, he instead knelt beside her to drop a light kiss against her cheek, lingering longer than he should.
"Hello," Hermione said. Her cheek burned where his lips pressed against her skin, and she glanced at him when he didn't pull away quickly. She reached up and brushed his hair from his forehead, letting her fingers graze his skin for a moment of indulgence before she reluctantly dropped her hand. "Would you like a drink to warm up or are you ready to go?"
His breath caught and his eyes closed for a moment as he fought off the urge to kiss her. Regaining some level of control, he stood and took a step back. "Whatever you'd like tonight, love. I'm yours." Oh. He hadn't meant to say that exactly, but he didn't regret his words.
Hermione blinked and unconsciously licked her lips. Perhaps a quiet meal somewhere wasn't the best idea, after all. Her self control was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain around Fred or George, and her attraction to George had always been more electric, in a way. With Fred, it was a slow burn that was getting hard to stop before they went too far. With George, it was somewhat like a firestorm from the first casual touch, and she was scared that she'd be unable to pull back before long. She didn't want to think about that now, though, because it was something that frightened her in regard to both Fred and George, and she wasn't ready to consider what might have to be done.
Tonight would be fun, and they'd enjoy themselves. She'd save serious contemplation for the time when it became necessary. For now, she had a handsome date waiting for her attention. She smiled at George and stood up. "I think we can get something to warm up while we have dinner," she said. "I know a place in London that I thought we might go to tonight."
He took her hand, threading their fingers together and trying to ignore how even that small action made his heartbeat speed up. "That sounds perfect," he said. "I haven't been to London in... years." He closed his eyes again, this time for a different reason. Remembering. "Not since the war, since the wreckage of Diagon."
Smiling at her as he came back to himself, he added, "I'd love to go to London with you."
"I rarely go to London," she admitted softly. "I don't really have a need since Hogsmeade has most everything and, what it doesn't, I can find in Edinburgh easily." After the war, no one tried to rebuild Diagon and now there were numerous smaller Wizarding sections in various areas. Diagon still stood in ruins, which saddened Hermione, both because it used to be such a symbol of this world with so many happy memories for her and because it was a reminder of the destruction of war. "Seeing Diagon the way it is now... perhaps it will force people never to forget, and to prevent history from repeating itself in the future."
She shook her head and smiled. "I apologize. I didn't intend for conversation to become quite so serious. The restaurant where I plan to take you is called Façade, and it's a Wizarding place in a little magical community in Notting Hill. I've gone there a few times since it opened and it's very enjoyable. We can take the Floo."
They walked to the fireplace, and she led the way. When George joined her on the other side, she unconsciously took his hand and led him the short distance down the alley from the public Floo toward Façade. When they stepped inside, she looked at the glass ceiling and walls, enjoying the view of the winter scene outside the warm restaurant. It was beginning to get crowded, but they'd managed to beat the dinner crowd, thankfully. She looked at George and smiled. "What do you think?"
"This is wonderful," George murmured, looking around at the comfortable room and the laughing, happy witches and wizards around them. There was something be said for going to a Wizarding restaurant instead of a Muggle one. You could wear whatever you wanted and you didn't have to lower your voice or hide who you were.
A petite brunette witch in black and white robes greeted them. "Welcome," she said in a Ukrainian accent. "For two?"
"Yes, for two," Hermione confirmed with a friendly smile. She and George followed the hostess to a table near the far glass wall that looked out onto a courtyard. She was pleased when George held out her chair for her. "Thank you."
"Your server will be with you shortly," the hostess said after handing them each a menu.
Hermione looked outside and admired the beautiful winter scene. "This is a lovely place to visit in the spring," she told George. "This courtyard is filled with flowers and there are tables outside in little nooks so you can enjoy the scent of the landscaping. I've never been here during winter, but I love their display outside. The fairy lights are a lovely touch."
George could visualize it, and he brushed his foot against Hermione's under the table. "I'll bet it's lovely," he said. "We should come back in the spring." He nearly added no matter which of us you choose, but they never talked about that on their dates and he didn't want to bring it up now.
"We should," she agreed, glad that he'd mentioned something in the future regardless of her dating him and Fred right now. She shifted in her chair when she felt his foot brush against hers, which only resulted in her leg bumping his. When had the tables here gotten to be so small? She'd certainly never noticed when Harry had brought her here or the time she'd eaten here with Ginny.
Glancing at the menu, he said, "Any recommendations?"
"They have really good chicken dishes, and Harry enjoys the fish," she said, fully aware of his leg pressed against hers beneath the table. It didn't matter that she was wearing a long wool skirt because she was certain she could feel the warmth of his body despite the barrier. She was relieved when a young man came over to take their drink order. She ordered warm pumpkin juice, which was a favorite drink during cold weather.
George ordered the same, and as the waiter retreated, he was distracted by someone waving at them from across the restaurant.
"Look, it's Penny Clearwater," George said to Hermione, waving back. "You know she's Oliver's fiancée, right? I never would have guessed they'd've ended up together."
Hermione looked up and waved at Penny before she went back to studying her menu. "Yes, I know," she said. "Penny comes to Hogwarts to visit Oliver occasionally. She's nice as well as smart, but definitely not the person I would have expected to end up with Oliver Wood. For one thing, she's actually a female and not a broom."
George choked on a sip of water, spluttering as he laughed. "Good point," he said. "That boy definitely has Quidditch on the brain."
"Well! Trust me, I saw Wood's ridiculous obsession with Quidditch firsthand via Harry during several years, so I'm surprised he stopped playing long enough to let Penny into his life. Of course, you know all about that since he was your captain, too," she said. Her distaste for Quidditch had just gotten worse after the war, and now she rarely even went to Hogwarts matches unless forced.
The waiter arrived with their drinks, and George said to Hermione, "I think I'll get the salmon. Are you ready to order as well?"
She nodded. "I'd like the roast beef with carrots and mash. I‘d like the house dressing for my salad, please," she said.
"It's good to be able to get up to see Ollie again," George said thoughtfully after the waiter retreated. "Much as we loved Canada, I've got to say that I missed certain people around here too." He bounced his knee against hers.
"Certain people around here missed you, too."
"I don't think we ever really meant to stay away that long," George said, shaking his head. "It's funny how the years can accumulate before you even realize it. I'm so glad old Zonko decided to sell his shop, though. It was high time we came home."
"I'm glad that you found out he was selling and decided to come back," she said, nudging his knee with hers the way he had done earlier. "Life is much more interesting now."
He took her hand across the table as they waited for their orders to arrive. "I want to sneak up to Hogwarts some time and watch you at work. You must be a devastatingly good librarian."
She moved her fingers to entwine with his. "I think you're crazy if you want to actually watch me work." Laughing, she shook her head. "Trust me when I tell you that my job is fulfilling to me and that I really do enjoy it, but it is not at all entertaining or worth watching. I basically shelve books, fill out paperwork, and help students with research when asked. I am quite good at the job, though, and thankful that Minerva gave me the chance."
When their meals arrived, they both ate in silence for a few moments, enjoying each other's company and the soft brush of their feet and knees against each other. George was supremely aware of every movement Hermione made. He could barely keep his eyes off her and on his food.
"This is a great place," he said to her, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice. He felt warmed to the core, though he suspected it was more the company than the drink.
The food was good, but Hermione barely tasted any of it. How could she focus on her meal when she felt George's gaze on her all the time? It was becoming familiar to catch him looking at her, and yet it still flustered her to catch him staring with a certain expression on his face that she couldn't quite decipher.
By the time they were finished with their dinner, she was slightly flushed and all too conscious of everything regarding George Weasley. She finished her juice and got herself under control before she smiled at him. "Isn't it? It's one of the few that is worth a trip to London," she said. When her gaze met his, everything else around them faded. She had to force herself to look away before she gave in to the desire to lean over the table and kiss him. Maybe a carriage ride wasn't the best idea after all.
"What's next?" George asked, smiling his thanks at their waiter for the cheque and depositing the right number of coins on the table. Besides me trying not to pin you to the nearest wall and snogging you until we've both forgotten our own names, he added mentally. The flush on her cheeks was absolutely enticing, and he wanted to see how far down it extended. Chiding himself for such absolutely inappropriate thoughts, he stood and offered her his hand.
That was a good question. Considering her reaction to him under normal circumstances, not to mention how she felt right now after just sharing a meal, she didn't think her original plan was very smart. She took his hand and stood up, rapidly trying to think of something else to occupy the rest of the evening. She decided to suggest the Muggle cinema, so she was rather surprised when she said, "I thought a carriage ride through the park might be nice this evening."
"That sounds wonderful," he said, very aware of the way their palms felt pressed against each other. They wandered out the front door into the chilly London evening. George slipped his arm around her shoulder to ward off the cold.
Fuck, he was aroused. He'd never reacted so much to someone before, and being so close to her, he could barely think straight. Trying to push it away, he murmured, "Be good to get out of the cold and into a carriage."
When they left, it was colder than it had been when they arrived. Hermione shivered as the initial cold air touched her cheeks and pulled her scarf tighter around her neck. George put his arm around her shoulder, and she instinctively snuggled closer for warmth. She put on her gloves before they started walking towards the park.
"Well, I imagine that the carriage will still be rather cold, but I think you get a heavy blanket for the ride. We might want to stop and get hot chocolate to take with us, so we'll stay warm," she said, trying to ignore just how close they were and not think about how romantic a carriage ride during the winter was going to be because such thoughts just led to things that she was putting off thinking about.
Walking by a park, George saw three black carriages, complete with drivers in black tophats. "There we go," he said, pointing to them and steering them both toward it. Selecting the first one, George nodded at the driver and opened the door for Hermione.
"Mind your skirt doesn't catch in the wheel," George said as he swung the little door open for her. The carriage was open on top and large enough for four people, with comfortable leather seats. George was more than happy for the two of them to have one bench seat to themselves, leaving the rest of the carriage empty.
"I think the door is far enough away that it shouldn't be a problem, but I'll be careful," she said after she studied the distance for a moment. She stepped up into the carriage and sat down, making room for George when he climbed in behind her.
On the seat across from theirs lay a green blanket that was slightly scratchy but very welcome on this cold night. She picked it up and spread it over their laps. "There, that's better." She smiled up at George and was unable to stop herself from looking at his lips when they were so close.
The carriage started off with a shudder but George didn't notice that they were moving. He was too aware of the line of Hermione's gaze. Fuck it, if she was thinking about kissing him too, he wasn't going to try to stop himself again.
"Hermione," he sighed, weaving his fingers through her hair. "Hermione," he whispered again, his lips brushing hers as he pronounced her name like a prayer. He'd never wanted anything so badly in all his life.
Hermione reached up and ran her gloved fingers through George's loose hair. She tilted her head back and pressed her lips against his. The way he whispered her name made her tummy tighten and her body heat up. When he pulled back, she murmured, "George," before she leaned up to kiss him again.
God, she was perfect, and this moment was perfect, and he never wanted to stop kissing her. One hand cradled her cheek as the other carded through her hair and he pulled her closer, suddenly unable to breathe. He decided to steal some of her breath to compensate, and he licked her lower lip urgently, seeking permission and entrance.
His fingers were cold, and she idly thought that she needed to knit him some gloves for Christmas. When she and Fred had gone for the hayride, he hadn't worn gloves either. They'd both need a pair, then. She forgot all about cold fingers when his tongue traced her mouth. She parted her lips and moved her tongue against his lightly.
His groan might have been her name again, but he was too lost in her to pay attention. Their tongues met and danced, a fierce, fiery encounter that sent thrills of pleasure racing through him.
"Want you so much," he sighed, nipping at her lower lip, his eyes open and watching her as he kissed her again, his arms twining around her back to pull her closer. Somehow, between their movement and the carriage's rocking, they tilted and fell against the seat, Hermione nearly on her back with George leaning over her.
The switch in positions brought her back to her senses. There was a moment of panic when she had to fight the urge to just keep kissing him, but it just couldn't go further than kissing. "George, we have to stop," she said reluctantly, pulling him closer even as she tried to resist.
"We really should," he agreed, his actions belying his words as he unwound her scarf and kissed his way down her throat, aware that he was nearly lying on top of her. "Have to stop because..." he sucked at the juncture of neck and shoulder, "if we don't now, we might..."
"Oh," she moaned at the sensation of his mouth on her throat. Her eyes fluttered shut and she tilted her head unconsciously, giving him better access. She moved her hand across his shoulders before she brought it to rest against his chest. "George."
His hand moved restlessly down her side, against her ribcage and the gentle curve of her breast. No, he couldn't push. Not in this situation, not with her telling him she didn't want to go further.
Her eyes flew open and she pulled back quickly. He dragged himself away with a gasp and his hand dropped into his lap. They both sat up, unable to look away from each other, frozen for a moment and both aware just how dangerous this was becoming. His
George's eyes were dilated, his breath ragged. "I'm sorry. I... it's difficult to control myself around you, Hermione. I want you so badly." He wondered if honesty really was the best policy. He'd soon find out.
She bit her lip and tried to think about things logically. Logic wasn't working right now, and she was worried for a variety of reasons, none of which she could talk about right now. "I, uh, understand the difficulty at keeping control," she admitted finally. "We have to, though. I don't know what to do."
"I'm sorry, love," he said, taking her hand, dropping it quickly, and then rolling his eyes at himself and taking it again. "I was pushing too much. I'll stop. Grown man, right? I should be able to control my own actions. I'll be a gentleman, okay?"
"I'm sorry, too," she said, rubbing her thumb against his palm. She couldn't tell him every reason she was hesitant, not the least of which was the fact that she was also involved with his twin brother, but she had to tell him something so he'd not accept full blame and possibly withdraw from her. This was becoming even more complicated than she'd expected. "It's just been a long time since I was intimate with anyone, and Viktor was my first and only, so I'm really not used to these feelings, and I just need time. You weren't pushing too much, George, but we're also in a very complex situation now, too, and it's not fair to Fred or either of us to forget that."
Her first and only? He bit back a "how is that possible?" though really, how was it possible? She was everything he could ever want, so how had other men been able to stay away? Well, maybe that was an easy question after all. She probably hadn't wanted anyone until she'd wanted...
Them. One of them. Damn it, this was getting more difficult by the minute.
George nodded. "This situation is... weird," he said at last, "but worth it." He didn't know what else to say, so he sat back and looked at the passing London streets, trying to ignore the fact that he still wanted her. He shivered, and it wasn't from the cold. Things were changing, and he knew that he and Fred and Hermione couldn't go on pretending everything was all right.