Morning came too early, and Hermione groggily sat up in bed. It took a moment for her to remember where she was. As her surroundings came into focus, memories from the previous evening flooded in. Hermione felt very awkward after the conversation she had overheard between Ron and George. She felt sure George was angry with her, just like Ron was. After all, they were brothers. Family. Although, one phrase stuck out in Hermione's mind.
Still, George?
Still what?
Hermione shook the thoughts away. With a glance at the clock beside the bed, she saw it was still quite early. Maybe she could sneak past George and get back to her hotel before he woke up. Very, very carefully, Hermione cracked the bedroom door open. George was standing on the other side. Hermione yelped in surprise.
"Morning," said George with a sly smile. "You wouldn't be trying to sneak out, would you?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Er, I thought you'd sleep in...?" Hermione tried, biting back her own smile, relieved that George didn't seem angry with her as she had thought.
"You're not getting away that easily. I'm determined to be the perfect host. You can shower and do whatever it is girls do, and I'll make us some breakfast."
Hermione headed back to the bathroom. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that she would be sleeping in George Weasley's bed and showering in his bathroom. She rolled her eyes at her situation and switched on the tap.
The hot shower did Hermione's body good. She let the water wash away the stress of the past week and all the crying from the day before. A few minutes later she was feeling very refreshed. She shut off the water and climbed out of the shower, wrapping herself in a towel.
Only then did she realize her predicament. She didn't have any other clothes. Somehow water had sprayed through the space between the shower curtain the wall, and had soaked the shirt George had lent her. Yesterday's jeans and tea-stained blouse were still neatly folded on a chair in George's bedroom, with her wand on the night stand. Hermione leaned against the door and listened for a moment. The sounds of cooking were coming from the direction of the kitchen. If she hurried, she figured she could sneak to George's room, grab her clothes and wand, and get back to the bathroom without being seen. She tightened the towel around her body, making sure all necessary areas were covered, and opened the door. George wasn't in the hallway, so Hermione flew across the hallway and into his room. She quickly scooped up her clothes and wand and started back to the bathroom, when--
"Hermione!"
She was so startled she nearly dropped her towel. George was standing in the hallway. His eyes were wide with shock as he stared at Hermione. He dropped the book he was holding and clapped his hands over his eyes.
"What in the name of Merlin--what do you think you're doing!?"
"I--I forgot my wand!" Hermione said breathlessly. Her face went bright red. Never had she been so embarrassed. She clutched the towel tighter around her and tore back to the bathroom, shutting the door tight behind her.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, she thought, feeling absolutely mortified. She pressed a towel hard against her face as she tried to calm herself.
------
Stupid, stupid, stupid, George thought, pressing his hands hard against his eyes. The memory of Hermione, dripping and covered only in a towel that clung to her small frame, was seared into George's brain. This was not what he had planned on. But...the more George thought about it, the more he smiled. The situation was so awfully uncomfortable that he started to laugh.
"Is something funny?"
George looked up. Hermione was standing in front of him, fully clothed and looking annoyed. Her bushy hair was still damp. George smirked.
"I liked your first outfit better," he said with an impish wink.
Hermione gasped. "George Weasley! What would your mother say--"
He interrupted. "What would my mother say if she found out you were strutting about my house naked?" He looked at her seriously.
Her mouth dropped open and her face colored in a blush. "I wasn't strutting! And I wasn't naked!"
George just grinned at her wickedly, eyes sparkling. Hermione's mouth twitched up into a smile, and they were soon laughing together.
"That was probably the most humiliating experience of my life," Hermione said, rubbing her hand over her face.
"Yes, well, I plan to remember it for the rest of my life," George laughed. Hermione just groaned and covered her face again.
"I didn't think your place would be so...tidy," Hermione said, changing the subject. George looked around at his home.
"It used to be pretty messy," he admitted. "But we found that having an organized home helps us with our work." He stopped at the indirect mention of Fred.
"I'm sure it's true," said Hermione. "You two have had some pretty brilliant inventions. I've always been impressed." She squeezed his hand.
George led her into the kitchen and pulled out a chair for her.
"Right, so I tried to make porridge, but that, er, that didn't quite work out."
Hermione glanced at the stove where a pot of thick glop was smoking slightly.
"Toast, then?" Hermione asked helpfully. George smiled and pulled out the bread.
They ate quietly. Hermione finished her toast quickly, then went to clean up the porridge mess. George smiled as he watched her. For some reason he found he rather liked seeing Hermione here, in his home. He had laughed more today than he had in months. Since Fred died, really. Somehow the pain of losing Fred had lightened a bit since Hermione had been there.
She caught him staring at her. "What? Have I got crumbs on me?" She brushed off her blouse quickly.
"It's nothing," said George. "I was just thinking, what if you stayed here instead of at that hotel? For a while, at least. It'd be good for you to be around friends while you got back on your feet."
Hermione didn't speak. She didn't know what to say. "I don't want to be a burden," she said at last.
"Not at all. No reason to waste money at a hotel. We can go get your stuff this afternoon. I warn you, though, you might have to cook to earn your keep," he finished with a wink.
Hermione laughed. "All right," she said. "Only if you promise to let me take the sofa."
"Oh, we'll figure all that out later." George waved his hand dismissively. He had no intention of letting Hermione sleep in the living room, and they both knew it.
That afternoon Hermione clasped George's hand tightly outside the joke shop, feeling an odd lightness in her chest as she did so, and turned on the spot. They apparated to a secluded patch of trees near the cemetery where they had been the previous night. She let go of George's hand quickly and led the way down the street to her hotel.
