The Murder In St. John

6. Under A Porch Light

George tugged on the hem of his swimming trunks before jumping out of the truck. His hands were still covered in grease, and he was sure his hair was a mess, but work had run late and he only had about five minutes to change before rushing over to pick up Hermione.

Hermione, who was walking out of her house with Coach leading the way wearing a bikini top, a pair of loose shorts, and a bag on her arm. George stumbled to a stop at the end of her walkway, tugging on the tee shirt he had thrown on, and considered ripping it off himself when Hermione turned to greet him with a smile, shutting the door behind herself as she did so.

"Hey! Road soda?" She asked, pulling a steel cup out of her beach bag as she neared him. Coach had already bounded over to the truck, hopping up into the bed of it. Giving an impatient bark, much to Hermione's amusement. 

"A road soadie, why Granger." George teased, accepting the steel cup as she pulled her own out.

"Beach is only like five minutes away, now let's go!" Hermione laughed, brushing by him to hurry towards the truck. George shook his head and hurried around his truck to jump into his driver's seat. He stilled, shutting the door behind him as Hermione was in the middle seat, her beach bag abandoned on the passenger seat. 

He raised his eyebrows at her, a silent question on his lips. 

Hermione seemed to take note he hadn't started the truck and turned to him. Cup at her lips, and eyebrows raised.

"This alright?" She asked, gesturing between the two of them.

Fred's words rang through his head, and he quickly turned away shoving the keys into the ignition. Forcing his fingers not to shake as he turned them. 

"Yes, course, why wouldn't it be?" He coughed, cleared his throat, and reversed, his forearm brushing her knee where it was propped near the gear shift as he moved.

As he switched back to drive, his left hand that held the steel cup was also gripping the steering wheel. He stilled, hand hovering over the gear shift as he bumped down the laneway, he then threw all common sense out the window and let his wrist rest on her knee, fingers around the gear shift. His knuckles turned white as he waited. 

Her bare skin felt warm under his wrist, and he felt himself blinking to regain his focus as he turned off her laneway, down the road that would wrap through the forest for a bit, before dumping them into a small parking lot at a secluded beach only the locals ever used.

His wrist stayed there, for the whole five minutes of their drive until he was forced to let go so he could park properly, as he was still clutching his steel cup with every ounce of strength he had.

"Ahh, George! Just the man I need, help this old man out and carry this for me?" James squinted, covering his face from the setting sun glare, and gestured towards a cooler sitting in the back of his car. An old Mustang passed down from his father.

"So we've admitted we've gotten old, have we!?" Hermione hollered after him, sliding across George's seat and landing on the concrete, her bag coming crashing down beside her.

"Can it Granger, I've got a young heart," James argued, clapping George's shoulder as he heaved the cooler up. Hermione shut George's door with her hip and nodded at Coach as he looked at her to see if he can go chasing Dorothy down the beach.

"Not if you don't watch your cholesterol, Potter!" Sirius called, trailing beside Remus who was carrying both their beach chairs.

"Oi, Black! Fuck off!" He shouted, flipping him two birds causing the other man to laugh.

"The children, James!" Lily scolded playfully, helping Ginny yank a surfboard off the top of their car.

"Teddy doesn't mind, do you bud?" James asked, quirking an eyebrow at Teddy who was straining to carry his bag of sand toys. Dragging it across the sand, refusing help from Fleur who was attempting to grab the bag from his hands.