Unlikely || George Weasley

Chapter 12 - Plans

Grimmauld Place, June 18 1998

When it came to exams, planning and efficient organisation were key. Hermione had always known this, and always fixated on timetables, productivity and allotting her time to specific subjects well in advance. NEWTs required serious preparation, like McGonagall had reiterated in her letters, and Hermione wouldn't settle for anything less than perfection. Silence was preferable for her working conditions, but the distant sounds of Diagon Alley from Fred and George's kitchen window were becoming a close second.

What did not work, however, was narrowly avoiding a direct bat-bogey hex while in the middle of studying the series of medieval Goblin wars in Europe.

"Ginny! Watch it!" Hermione shouted, ducking just in time to hide behind her chair. She thought she'd be safe from the others in the second floor office upstairs after dinner, but apparently not. (Kreacher had served an excellent vegetable hotpot that evening.)

"Oh crap, sorry Hermione! I thought you were Ron planning an ambush." Ginny called off the green globule bats and stuck her wand back up her sleeve, looking thoroughly apologetic. "Blame him – he's the one that suggested I try and catch him and Harry off guard. He wants to improve their reaction times or something."

Hermione stood up slowly, scowling at Ginny and adjusting her top as she returned to her chair.

"The sooner they do that bloody aptitude test, the better. Kingsley's basically all but promised them both a spot on the squad, Ron's stressing over nothing." She picked up her rolls of timeline, muttering, "Now, if he'd put half this amount of energy into revising for his OWL's..."

She looked up from her notes to see that Ginny had already snuck out of the room. Hermione sighed.

Ginny was spending more and more time at Grimmauld Place, under Ron's careful glare. Which is fine, Hermione thought, although now it feels like three against one. Hermione had hoped that the younger girl would have evened out the energy in the house, balancing the scales in a way – but no. Now, with Ginny's wicked aim and impressive arsenal of hexes, it was even more impossible to study uninterrupted than before. Hermione couldn't wait to get out and escape to the quiet calm of the shop.

She frowned. Calling Weasley's Wizard Wheezes calm? Quiet? That felt like a complete oxymoron.

Her days were settling into a comforting pattern of study now, sometimes with Neville and Ginny for company, but some days without. She'd taken a backseat with the Hogwarts repairs now the amount to do was dwindling, and Hermione found herself on the doorstep of the shop every morning for eight o'clock sharp, working until the twins closed up in the early evening and came upstairs.

Those were her favourite moments of the day. When the shock of red hair came through the door and her heart soared, catching his eye and receiving a smile in return. They'd strike up an easy conversation, chatting casually while George pottered around getting changed or helping Fred make a start on dinner. It was so effortless, talking to him. Twice already Angelina had Floo-ed in and joined them for a while at the table before disappearing into Fred's room. And then it was just George and Hermione for a few minutes before she left.

She liked those times best of all.

She pulled herself out of her daydream and worked through her notes on the Goblin wars for another hour, but when the grandfather's clock on the landing chimed ten times, she rubbed her eyes and decided to call it quits for today. Hermione pulled the hairband out of her ponytail, combing through the frizzy curls with her fingers, and padded across the landing to the bathroom.