a/n: So I'm terribly slack, and haven't done anything with this story for so very long. I doubt if anyone would be interested in reading this anymore, but I hope there is. Trying to figure out how to extend a one-shot is very difficult, but I will get there eventually, I have a general idea now. ♥
As an unspoken rule he preferred to look at the lighter side of things. It made it easier, less complicated, and a darn sight funner. It was easy to see it here, a pretty girl asleep in his arms, and she wanted to be there. Take away all the outside influences and it would be brilliant.
She was smart, more than a match for him. If Fred and he managed to convince her to come work in their shop, it would be wonderful. She would fit in perfectly. A prefect working in a joke store, it was an odd combination, but the payoff would be enormous. The prospect of working alongside him on a daily basis was just an added bonus. He had never met someone who challenged him in the way she did, whenever someone came up against both Fred and himself, it was impossible for them to match up. They were a team, and it was always a hands down victory to them. She did though, just having her in the shop for an hour made him change his mind about things, to make them bigger, and better than before. A change they wouldn't have seen on their own.
When George moved past the positives though, the negatives of the union were glaringly obvious.
He hated hiding, the game of pretending was getting old quickly. They had been so stupid, so foolish. The shop of all places, a place where anyone in his family could come in at anytime. His mum, Ron, anyone could have found them; and while Fred's reaction was far from ideal, it was a fair bit better than theirs would have been.
George didn't like to picture how Ron would react, while Hermione insisted that she felt nothing in that sense for Ron, and firmly believed that Ron didn't either. He felt otherwise. The limited time he had spent with her had made him feel things he couldn't begin to imagine; how Ron could spend six years in her presence, near on constantly, and not feel anything. It was impossible, his dalliance with with Lavender was just a speed bump. George needed to figure out how Ron felt, and soon. Before his own grew.
Fred was reading when he shut the door behind him, and then collapsed onto his bed. He closed his eyes, and counted to five.
"What's happening George?" Five seconds was too much, "I mean with Granger, of all people."
"I don't know," he muttered.
"Well that's a good answer, you've got bollocks of steel, that's for damn sure."
"I can understand the want for a bird, we all have that. I have Angie, you of course, don't. So you'd be wanting one, but Granger?"
"She's different, different to what I expected."
"She's also Ronniekins best friend, his best girl friend. You know he had dibs on her, whether he's claimed them or not."
"Don't let her hear you say that," he smiled softly. "You'd be needing the steel balls then. Even if Ron does, or doesn't have feelings for her. He hasn't done anything, and she is quite adamant that she doesn't feel that way for Ron. So as far as I'm concerned, fair game."
"What do you think would have happened though, if it wasn't me coming back to the shop? Believe me, I'm your best case scenario."
"Don't think that hadn't crossed my mind."
"Well you'd better think about it good mate, because when he does find out, and he will find out. It won't be pretty." Fred shut out the light, and moved beneath his covers.
"That goes without saying, it is Ron. I just need to figure some things out first."
"How I feel, and whether that fits with how Hermione feels."
At any other time being sent to de-gnome the garden was a chore, of the horrible kind, and he would have hated it. Today though, it was almost as if his mother wanted him to have a chance to talk with Ron. Who, naturally complained all the way outside, George tried to keep from bouncing on his toes as he followed, using a few choice words of complaint along the way.
"Out of all the bloody things to do, we get stuck with the stupid gnomes."
"Ridiculous, although I'd rather this than help Harry and Fred weed the front garden. I don't think that garden has seen a spade for a few years, and I don't think it'll like it."
"Nah," Ron laughed. "Best of luck to them, better them than me."
George kicked a rock away as he sized up the bushes, "hey, why did she put you and Harry on separate jobs? I can understand separating Fred and me, but you two?"
"Hermione reckons 'divide and conquer', keep us apart, keep us under control or something."
"Why are you lot planning something?"
"Something," Ron looked away quickly. "Let's get on with it, sooner we get done, the sooner we are done."
The sun beat down on them as they worked, they could throw further nowadays, but that didn't mean it was easier. Trying to concentrate on throwing one of the little buggers as far as they could while their little friends bit and kicked your feet, it made it harder. The pond was glistening in the distance, taunting them with it's shimmering reflection. Ron grunted loudly as he hurled the last one over the fence, and far away hopefully. Their angry little heads could be seen shaking in the distance.
"I hate gnomes," Ron muttered.
"I'm sure it's mutual," he smiled.
Ron shrugged as he sat down heavily, "let's not go back in yet, I daresay she'll have another job lined up for us."
George sat down next to him, "more than likely." He was itching to ask him right out, 'do you fancy Hermione?', but that would make Ron clam up real quick, he would have to take the long road. "So you bringing your girlfriend to the wedding?"
"That Lavender bird."
Laughing lightly, "she is not my girlfriend."
"Oh! What happened there?"
He shrugged dismissively, "just didn't work. All the wrong reasons."
"What are the right reasons then, if that was all wrong. From what I remember, she wasn't bad looking, far from it."
"Why all the questions?"
"Just curious, Charlie and Bill bite my head off quick smart when I ask them about their relationships. Percy is just not interesting, while Fred gives me more details than I could possibly ever need. So I wonder to myself, how does Ron get by with the young witches?"
"You are a little weird," Ron laughed.
"I never claimed to not be, so that's it, no girls on the horizon?"
"Nope. Girls and me, oil and water. Most of the time my foot resides in my mouth, I can't seem to do a thing right. I'm stepping back, and taking a break from witches. More trouble than they're worth."
"But if there was a special one?"
"Then it would be different, but there isn't."
"Oh well," George said, patting him on the shoulder. "That time, and one will come. They always do."