"Dad," George spoke slowly, holding it out between two of his fingers, it was currently smoking and looked nearly ready to burst into flames. "How many times do I have to tell you, you can't put tinfoil in a microwave," George told him flatly.
"About as many times as you'll lie about where you and Hermione were this morning," Arthur replied smugly, tongue in cheek as he yanked the tinfoil from George's outstretched hands.
"I don't tell fibs." George drawled, slamming the microwave closed with a little more force than necessary.
"They were at Lee's and Oliver's, supposedly." Molly drawled, and Hermione found herself piping in. Charged with the electricity in the room.
"Four."
George shot her a look and shook his head. Fine.
"Why didn't you bring them by? I haven't seen them in ages." Molly pouted, leaning over to lay a hand on her son's arm. But George pulled away, turning to wash his hands in the sink.
"Because they were in their Kimonos, Mum." George sighed, pulling the hand towel off the oven handle. Molly only stared at him, seemingly very confused as to what the hell that meant, before turning to Hermione.
"Are you two together or not?!" Molly finally asked, folding her hands over her chest. "You are in his sweater, you know! Quite misleading if you are so hell-bent on keeping this under wraps." She gestured to Hermione wildly, clearly fed up with the circling the two were doing.
Hermione leaned around Molly, fixed George a look, and proudly stated. "Four."
Hermione let Coach out of the truck first, before hopping down taking her newly earned basket of fruit with her, and hugging it to her chest. She turned, to find George still firmly planted in his seat. Seems their day together was drawing to a close.
"Thanks for the ride, George," Hermione told him earnestly, George nodded and then sighed.
"Thanks for riding with me to Lee's," George said, flicking down his visor despite the sun being behind him.
"Oh, there you are Mione!" Hermione turned startled, to find Ginny standing on her porch, Teddy's hand clenched in hers. Hermione watched as Ginny registered just whose truck she had climbed out of, and released Teddy's hand to come bounding over.
"What is going on here?" Ginny demanded, placing her hands on her hips. Coach bounded past her, pushing his nose at Teddy's stomach until Teddy squealed in delight.
"Lee's," George replied, leaning over so he could see Ginny's face. Ginny promptly ignored him and instead turned to Hermione. This is the part where Hermione's hands would begin to sweat if Ginny prodded too far.
"Doing what?" Ginny asked, tilting her head to the side.
"Art," George answered, turning his music down to smirk at Ginny. Hermione tensed, hands growing wet along the reeds in the basket.
"Liar," Ginny stated at once, then checked her watch before gasping. "Can you watch Teddy? I've got to cover a volleyball match, and Harry's picking up a delivery in St. Ives." Ginny clasped her hands together, pulling the best Weasley puppy eyes Hermione had ever seen.
"Course, I can do that." Hermione nodded at once, relieved the attention was now off of her.
"We will discuss this later." Ginny pointed first at Hermione, then George then slowly down to Hermione's roughed-up knees. She then clapped her hands, whistled, and turned to face her son. "Be good for Auntie!" She called, Teddy blew her a kiss before turning back to Coach. Chasing his tail down the porch steps, and across the lawn.
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The Murder In St. John
फैनफिक्शनSixteen, an orphan, and filthy rich. Not that many would be able to tell. Hermione didn't flaunt it, in fact, she didn't want it. She made her own life, built her wealth, and was doing just fine on her own. So it's easy to give her aunt the money...
3. Orange Slices
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