Chapter 1 ( part one )

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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: For the purposes of this story: Lupin, Tonks, and Fred did not die in the Battle of Hogwarts; nothing romantic ever happened between Lupin and Tonks; and Hermione and Ron dated briefly in their sixth year before deciding they were better off as friends.
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Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love.

It will not lead you astray.

—Rumi
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CHAPTER ONE

"If you take a picture, it'll last longer."

A startled Hermione Granger turned left to find George Weasley grinning at her.

"That's what the Muggles say when someone's staring," he told her matter-of-factly. He nodded in the direction Hermione had been gazing. "Don't tell me you still fancy Ron?"

"I wasn't staring at him, and no. Definitely not."

Hermione grabbed a bottle of butterbeer while George looked over at who was standing with his brother. His eyebrows rose.

"So it was dear Remus you were admiring?"

"I wasn't admiring anyone."

"Why are you blushing, then?"

"I'm not!" she argued, but felt her face warm up as she did so.

"That's convincing," said George sarcastically.

"I wasn't staring at anybody. I was thinking about some things, and I must have been unconsciously looking that direct— oh!"

Hermione had looked over at Remus Lupin just as his roving gaze had flickered her way. She hastily turned away from him, nearly sloshing butterbeer all over herself. He was too far, Lupin couldn't possibly hear what she and George were talking about, could he?

"If I didn't know you any better," George said, surveying Hermione's flushed face with a playful gleam in his eyes, "I'd say you were hot for teacher."

"I am not—"

"He's a bit old for you, but if you fancy him—"

"I don't!"

"He's a good man, really. I totally approve if you want to start dating him, or, you know, just stay secret lovers—"

"George, that's ridiculous!"

"Is it?"

He was obviously amused by this conversation, but Hermione felt flustered. She struggled to deny the accusations, spluttering, "I do not fancy— we are not—"

"Hermione," George interrupted, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Relax. I'm only joking. It's a thing I'm known to do every so often."

Of course he was only joking.

"Right," she said, embarrassed at having gotten so worked up.

George let her go and grabbed a butterbeer. Hermione took a long swig of her own.

"Sorry. I guess I'm a little tense," she apologized.

"That's why I came over here. You looked too serious."

"I was thinking."

"Care to share?"

"Not really. It wasn't anything particularly interesting."

"Fair enough. Anyway, you should do less thinking and more lightening up. Look around."

George and Hermione took in the scene at the Burrow.

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