Hermione was frowning as she pushed through the portrait hole. She’d just been up to the owlery to send off a few letters, and she’d run right into Draco Malfoy who was clearly doing the same thing. Honestly, the whole interaction had been so strange that she’d thought of nothing else on her way back.
“Hey, Mi,” George called from his favorite seat in the common room.
Hermione blinked, taking in the area. Most were off at breakfast, and quite frankly, her feet had taken her back to Gryffindor House without realizing the time. With a shrug, she walked over to George’s chair. He had a book splayed across his legs.
“Hi, George. Why aren’t you in the great hall?”
“Wasn’t hungry,” he said easily. “I told Fred to go on without me. My stomach’s been bothering me all morning.”
Hermione plopped down beside him and grinned. “Been testing a new product?”
He nodded seriously. “A new version of Puking Pustules. One that’s supposed to make you vomit without the nausea. So that the sickness is all for show, you know. I just can’t quite work out the kinks, and alas…” he gestured vaguely at his stomach.
Hermione laughed. “While I appreciate that you’ve stopped testing on the younger students, I really didn’t mean for you to start testing on yourselves.”
“Someone’s gotta do it,” he replied.
Hermione sighed. “Alright. Let me see.”
George grinned. “Famous last words.”
“George. Just…scoot forward. I’ve been practicing minor healing spells with Remus. Let me help.”
The boy complied and also took her words extremely literally. He ‘let her see’ by taking off his shirt, faster than Hermione could even stop him. Determined not to react in any way that would please him, she simply grimaced. “Charming.”
He seemed to be very proud indeed and stuck out his chest even more. “Alright, doc. Have a look at me.”
I will not blush. I absolutely will not blush. Hermione fought the heat in her cheeks. Gods. Calm down, it wasn’t like she’d never seen a shirtless male before. She’d been living at Grimmauld Place over the summer for Merlin’s sake! There were men everywhere!
Hermione blew out a steadying breath and raised her wand. “You’re insufferable.”
“You love me, really.”
“Mhmm. Stop squirming.” She carefully prodded at his stomach, trying not to notice that it was perfectly sculpted and practically screaming that he was bloody fit. Gods, Ron would kill her if he knew she was noticing absolutely anything about his brother; she quickly cast a diagnostic.
Sure enough, the area surrounding his stomach lit up with flashing green. Indigestion, undoubtedly. She sighed in relief. At least it was something simple to fix. “What exactly did you add to this trial?”
George frowned. “Well, I didn’t like the initial taste of the first one, so I added essence of fizzy soda, you know the one at Honeyduke’s? It tastes fantastic, and I thought it couldn’t hurt–”
“You idiot,” Hermione groaned fondly. “That’s absolutely packed with carbon dioxide. Of course, your stomach aches.”
“Carbon…carbon what?”
“It’s gas. Basically. You just ingested concentrated gas bubbles, and now they’re all in one place. Hold still.”
George looked mildly horrified by this turn of events and she couldn’t help but laugh. He wrapped his arms protectively around his chest. Not so glad to be shirtless, now, huh? “What are you about to do?”
“Calm down,” Hermione giggled, “it’s not a big deal. I’m just going to siphon them out. Come on,” she reached for his arms, “don’t be a wimp.”
He only tightened his hold. “No. That sounds…that sounds dangerous!”
“George, honestly,” Hermione wrapped her fingers around his bare wrists and tugged, “what was dangerous was swallowing the thing in the first place. This will only make you feel better.”
He seemed to consider her words. “Alright. But if this goes badly, you owe me.”
“Whatever,” she said easily, pushing his arms away to expose his stomach again.
“A kiss,” he added mischievously.
“Sure thing,” she shrugged. This was not going to go badly. It really was a simple spell. He seemed content, though, and finally gave her the opening she needed. With his chest uncovered once more, Hermione pressed her wand lightly to his stomach. He stiffened a bit at the contact. “Sorry,” she whispered. It was probably a bit cold.
Scrunching her eyebrows, she muttered, “Relingo.” The carbon dioxide slowly seeped through flesh and was sucked into her wand. To Hermione, it reminded her of watching a lava lamp. Fascinating, really. It took all of seven seconds from start to finish. When she was done, she looked up at him triumphantly.
George looked appalled. “Oh my god. That was disgusting.”
“Never be a healer, Georgie. You wouldn’t last a week.”
“I’ll take a note of that,” he said with wide eyes.
Hermione laughed and crossed her ankles. “Put your shirt back on so I can tell you something that just happened to me. I think you’ll find it interesting.”
George complied but smirked as he did so. As he buttoned up, Hermione told him about the owlery. When she reached the part where she ran into Malfoy, George cut in. “Wait. And he didn’t hex you immediately?”
“No,” she agreed, “which I’ll admit is weird.”
“What did you say?” He leaned forward to peer down at her.
“I…” Hermione paused and then laughed. “Gods. I said, ‘Sending love letters to your girlfriend? Or crying home to Daddy?’”
George’s mouth dropped open and he howled in laughter. “Oh my gods. You did not.”
“I did,” she chuckled. “I can’t believe it now, but I did. The thing is, I was just so shocked.”
“By what?” He asked with a grin.
“Well…by his behavior, I supposed. When I hit the top of the stairs, Malfoy was petting his owl. Gently. Like…like he respected animal lives or whatever. And he was talking to it. In a nice, friendly voice. It was…well, it was very strange. I wasn’t sure the guy was capable of warmth at all. I guess a part of me just defaulted to being snobby because I’d never interacted with him any other way. Now, I almost feel bad.”
“Nah, don’t feel bad. What you said was straight bars, and he deserved it somehow. Oh my gods,” he groaned through his fingers, “I would’ve paid to be there.”
Hermione laughed again. “Well, he didn’t really respond, so then I told him I hoped he did have a girlfriend. I said it would soften him up a bit. He,” she giggled, “he practically stormed out after that. Didn’t even throw an insult my way, he was so pissed.”
George leaned back in despair. “Why, oh why, does the universe hate me? Seeing that is my only desire in life.” He wrenched forward again and grabbed her hands in his. “You. Are. Magnificent. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.”
She batted his hands away and stood to her feet. He was ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. But she grinned at him anyway. “George, you have got to get your priorities straightened.”
He stood as well and flicked her nose. “Love, they’ve never been straighter in my life.”
She rolled her eyes. “Stomach better?”
“Like new.”
“Come on, then. Let’s catch the end of breakfast. You’ll regret it if you skip.”
George laced his arm through hers. “I assure you that there are other things I could fill this time with that I would not regret.” He wagged his eyebrows.
Hermione tugged him forward. “Food. Now. Only.”
George blew out a long-suffering sigh but allowed her to drag him out of the common room. As they walked, she could have sworn she heard him mutter something that sounded vaguely like, someday. She chuckled to herself. George Weasley was going to be the death of her.
Just not today.