Lost and Found

Chapter 11 - Up to No Good

Surprisingly, there were two people running toward the building. Sirius wondered briefly what the hell Malfoy thought he was doing, until he saw the unmistakable crowd of Hogwarts students inside. Ah yes. He was supposed to be in charge of them.

Deatheaters, maybe. Sirius thought wildly. If they've touched a hair on her head, I'll-

He reached the door first, throwing it open with a sound SLAM! Glass shattered as the door hit the wall outside, and Malfoy found himself slipping on shards as he tried to get in.

The place was a mess. Things strewn everywhere, kids going wild-

"Oh. Hello there, Malfoy," said a pleasant and very familiar voice.

Sirius stopped in his tracks at the sight of Hermione, cowering into a redheaded man's shoulder with a shudder. "Get it away, George!" she shrieked.

A multi-colored, sparkling snake was slithering its way up her leg. It had antennae.

Malfoy's face was a mask of rage - he pulled his wand, made a curt gesture at the thing, and Sirius watched as it dissolved into ashes.

Hermione fainted.

George held her up with a frown. "Oh come on now, Hermione, first time I see you in years and you fall apart at something like that?"

"Weasley!" Malfoy snarled. "You utter bastard, I thought something serious had happened!"

George (who was busy shaking Hermione) did not look up. "You should know by now to ignore any explosions coming from here, of all places," the man muttered. "Oi! Hermione!" he said louder. "Wake up! I'll give you some canary creams or something for the trouble!"

She moaned, deep in her throat. "You... you... bastard..." she said, unknowingly repeating Malfoy. "You know I hate snakes. You know!"

George grinned down at her. "Well yeah. But I've been saving that one up for years. We developed it just with you in mind."

A few of the students, who had actually been cheering and not going rampant, began to clap appreciatively. Malfoy put his head in his hand with a groan.

"If anyone buys skiving snackboxes in here, I will personally put their arses into detention in the worst way possible," he snapped. Then paused. "Well. Unless you use them in McGonagall's class..."

Sirius stormed up to George, pulling Hermione from him. "Okay, okay," he said darkly. "Funny joke, indeed. Lord, at least I had the sense to prank my enemies."

George blinked.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"If my students could please come with me now," Malfoy snapped, interrupting. "We should be getting back to Hogwarts. Go ahead and pay for your stuff and then get out here." With that, he strode from the shop, his strangely patched robe billowing out behind him in a way that very keenly reminded Sirius of Snape. As he left, the door reassembled itself with a curt wave of his wand.

Malfoy must've been taking lessons in 'how to be an ugly bat'.

"Hermione?" he asked quietly. "You okay?"

She frowned up at him. Then realized she had changed places. "Sirius?"

He gave a quick nod. "Yes. Still here."

Sirius was certain that, had he been looking up, he would have seen the most miraculous (and hilarious) transition of expressions on George's face. However, Hermione was looking just a little peaky, and he had a feeling...

"S-Sirius?" George managed. "Sirius Black? Padfoot? Alive, here, now?"

Hermione giggled. "Yessir. Right here. Right... right... here..." Her eyes were glazed, and Sirius groaned.

"What the hell did you put in that snake?" he asked George.

Hermione's eyes widened. "What? Snake? Where?" She stumbled as she tried to escape him, but he tightened his grip on her.

"Sirius?" George said again, flabbergasted.

He glared at the man. "Yes?"

A slow smile crept its way across the twin's face. "See if it bit her."

A tad bit unsettled by the expression on his face, Sirius knelt down and set Hermione against the wall, pushing up her pant leg to check... and closed his eyes in unhappiness. This was bound to be bad, he just knew it.

"Yes, it bit her, George."

The red-headed man laughed. "Oh wonderful! Never would've thought to get her off-guard like that, but there you are!" At the other man's murderous look, he chuckled. "Nothing to worry about, mate. Just some firewhisky. Should wear off by... oh, tomorrow morning."

Sirius groaned as Hermione draped herself across him sleepily. "Need a nap..." she muttered. "I feel all floaty..."

The students had left by now (a few of them actually requested some of the strange inebriating animals, which George liked to call 'lovebugs' for the hickey they left on the victim's leg). Draco Malfoy, however, reappeared in the doorway.

"What on earth?" he said, at the sight of Hermione giggling madly.

Sirius glared at him. "Ask him." He jerked his head in George Weasley's direction.

Draco did so. And swore quite loudly when the store owner informed him happily that the snakes had been a smashing success with the students.

"I hope you put a charm in there to protect the teachers," the blond-haired wizard muttered. "Otherwise, it's going to be a very Merry Christmas."

George winked. "Naw. I put in the safety on this one. Not that Dumbledore wouldn't enjoy it..."

"Dubble- duggle- dimbledore-?" Hermione murmured giddily. "Can't say it right. Wonder why..."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow for the second time that day. Then shook his head miserably. "Will you be needing a ride up to the castle?"

Sirius shook his head. "No, I think I'm taking her home by floo - that is, if I could borrow some from Mr. Weasley, here."

At the two very pointed looks thrown his way, George shrugged. "Sure. Why don't you stay for tea, though, catch up on some things? Really, it's wonderful to see you, thought you were-"

"Dead," Sirius finished. "Yes, I know. And... no, I wasn't." He hoisted Hermione to her feet. "Actually... I have to admit, this is kind of amusing." At George's bright look, he chuckled. "Don't tell her I said that, though. Hopefully, she won't remember."

George grinned. "Of course she won't. That there's got a little memory fixing potion in it."

Draco shook his head in disgust. "You're brilliant, Weasley, I give you that. But do try not to set the whole village into a panic next time."

Sirius' eyebrows must have risen above his hairline. Malfoy was... almost friendly. Strange.

He watched as the man sauntered out of the shop again, then Sirius turned his gaze back to George. The Weasley was sitting serenely on top of the counter, as though he hadn't just inebriated a poor woman past sensibility.

"What's with him?" Sirius asked.

George grinned. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." At the sour expression thrown his way, he relented. "But I will anyway, of course, mate. Well, seems that his family lost their holdings and money to pay reparations after the war. Poor wittle Malfoy was left with nothing but his robes - and you can see how far those've gotten. No one wanted to hire anyone associated with the Deatheaters - Dumbledore took pity and hired the poor jackal, or so I've heard. Have to admit, he is rather good with potions..."

Sirius shook his head. "I'm afraid I've just gotten back from... well, from wherever. I've got a lot of catching up to do. May I also ask, though, why he was in possession of my map? And, of course, why it shows the Hogsmeade area."

George nodded, as though this were a sensible question (and it was, of course). "Me and Fred extended it to cover Hogsmeade during the war. It was bloody hard to do, even with Lupin's help - you realize how many spells are on that thing to prevent tampering?" Sirius merely grinned. Of course he knew - they'd gotten Lily's help with those in seventh year, and she was nothing if not amazing with charms. "Well afterward, Snape said it was too dangerous in the hands of students (since they kept playing pranks on him, the stupid git) so the staff uses it to keep them in line every once in a while. I only know this, of course, since I helped to work on it. It's top secret Dumbledore stuff now." He winked at this.

"Dubbledoe," Hermione mumbled. "Dum- dumbledoe."

Sirius looked down at her with an arched eyebrow, but she merely snuggled deeper into his robes with a hiccup.

"She will be pissed at you when she wakes up, you realize," he told George.

George snickered. "She already looks pretty pissed to me, if you don't mind my saying so."

"True enough, that." Sirius gave a wry smile. "So where's Fred, if I may ask."

George snorted. "Went off and got married, the dope. He owns the other shop, down on Diagon Alley. I'll tell you, though, even though both are pretty popular, this one gets a lot more business. Students and house rivalries and all. Slytherins have all but bought my whole stock before - then the Gryffindors have to do it too, next weekend, and before you know it, I'm having to invent new stuff just to keep up with their schemes. I'm even getting personal orders... interesting stuff."

Sirius leaned back against the wall, trying to ignore the woman snoring against his chest and failing miserably (though George didn't have to know that). "Sounds like a fun job. I could already tell you a couple hundred ideas I never got to see happen..."

George's eyes glittered. "Could you now..."

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Sirius decided that he could forgive George his transgression. And maybe that school of goldfish he'd since confessed to putting in his bath.

Because they'd already drawn up in-depth plans for the new snapping origami, jaw-sticking gum, and combination sneezing/itching dust.

"Wonderful," George cackled. "I think I'll restrict these particular sales to the Slytherins."

Sirius blinked. "Why on earth-"

"They're ahead in house points," George said with a grin. "And I do so hate to keep them from their spectacular failures."

The formerly older man grinned. "You little spy. You tell on them!"

George put a hand to his chest, as though struck. "My god, you have no faith in me at all, do you? I would never tell anyone that Johnston is clearly planning to put a nosebleed nougat into Ansery's breakfast, or that Pret is going to move on the Gryffindor girls' dormitory in about two weeks..." The redheaded man winked. "Oh look. I've gone and told, haven't I?"

Sirius snorted. "Why yes you have. But I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to do anything about it - especially considering I have a few..." He glanced momentarily at the peacefully snoozing Hermione, whom they'd relocated to the backroom's couch, "presents to get," Sirius dropped his voice lower.

George crossed his heart. "Won't tell, I swear." At the other man's dubious look, his expression turned utterly serious. "She needs a nice little surprise. I won't tell. Fact, you can leave her here while you go, if you like."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Oh why thank you, George. What a kind offer, after you've gone and gotten her drunk."

The twin tutted. "Well then, she shouldn't be such a lightweight. Wasn't all that much in there, you know. Course, it was a bit strong..."

"How strong?" Sirius asked curiously.

George grinned. "About 180 proof. Not too bad."

Sirius shook his head and left to do his shopping. As Hermione wasn't supposed to sober up for at least another thirteen hours, he figured he was safe.

It was only once he'd reached the outside that he realized he had no idea what he was getting her.

The problem wasn't money. He had money up the wazoo. He highly doubted he would ever see the end of his money. The problem was that he had no idea what she wanted. Books were usually a good bet with her, but he didn't know what kind she liked (other than Hogwarts: A History, of course - and even that was debatable lately).

Ah!

But he did owe her a chocolate bar from Honeydukes.

That was certainly a start.

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Hermione groaned as she awoke, a pounding headache drilling into her skull. Someone clapped her on the back a few times, and she realized it was fading.

George smiled down at her. She frowned back.

"Oh dear me," he said. "I must've accidentally picked the wrong snake. You've only been out for a few hours!"

Hermione's eyes widened. Out? She'd been out?

"What did you do to me, George!" she said, although it sounded like such a scream that she moaned and covered her ears. No good - the sound of blood pounding through her head was awful enough.

"Now, now, you sissy," he admonished. "Twas just a little taste. I take it you've never had a hangover before?"

Hermione shot him a dirty look. "Of course not!"

George sighed theatrically. "Another prefect's life wasted away. Percy would be so proud of you." At her face, however, he sobered. "Honestly, I just wanted to talk to you about a few things. Before he gets back."

It took her a moment to realize whom he was talking about. "Sirius? Where's he gone?"

George shifted. "Out." Before she could ask him what he was hiding, though, he pressed onward. "Why didn't you come see us, Hermione?" he asked. "Or at least come to the funeral." She flinched and looked away, and he instantly knew the reason. But it was fine. Everything was gone, no changing it now.

"I couldn't look anyone in the eye," she admitted miserably. "Not after-"

"No one blames you," he told her sternly. And for once, she realized George was being on the level with her. Hermione sighed. It must have come from seventeen years of growing up.

"I know no one blames me," she said quietly. "But I blame me. And I don't know if that will ever change."

George stared at her for a few moments, as though trying to figure out how to get something through her thick head. But he changed his mind, apparently, because the next thing he said was: "Sirius?"

Hermione grimaced. "A lost and found charm. You wouldn't believe the shock I got..." she trailed off uncertainly. "But it's good, in the end. I- I missed him." She found her eyes had turned watery, and she rubbed at them frustratedly. "I missed all of you, and I didn't even really realize it until now." George shushed her and patted her on the back again, but she threw herself at him and hugged him tightly. "The things I never saw... I'm so sorry..."

George smiled. "Yeah, well, the Burrow hasn't been the same without you coming every summer. I swear Percy's disappointed he hasn't got anyone to talk to about his cauldron bottoms..."

Hermione sniffled. "D-didn't he get promoted?" she asked.

George shrugged. "Probably. In fact, I'm sure he was trying to tell me some new and exciting thing he was doing at work the other day, but I happened to tune him out. Accidentally."

Hermione laughed, trying to expel the frog in her throat. "H-how can you accidentally tune someone out?"

He grinned. "By throwing a shrieking sticky on the floor and running."

She groaned. "You're awful!" But it really was very hard not to laugh. She decided to go ahead and do it.

George looked gratified. "Wonderful. By the way..." He handed her something soft and wrapped, and she stopped to look down at it.

Canary Creams

A Weasley's Wizard Wheezes Product

One Pastry

Hermione blinked.

"I did promise," he told her with a wink. "If you want, you can help me test out a few of my newest products - on Sirius!" he added quickly, as she glared at him in expectation of another horrible testing experience.

The woman's face softened - and he thought it almost got a devious look to it.

"Certainly, I will take a look, George," she told him. "But only because you... need help," she hesitated, "as you so put it. It has nothing to do with the fact that Sirius thought this whole incident was amusing."

George coughed. "How in the world did you find that out?" he demanded.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Your memory additive was faulty, I would guess. You shouldn't be worrying - it's his hide, not yours."

He considered this a moment - then nodded. "Very true." He took out a spare bit of parchment, then, and began writing on it - then frowned as it spat a few insults at him and got another. "Well," George said cheerily as he wrote, "here's something for you. Dad finally got himself a fellytone installed in the house - everyone'd love to see you again, so if you just call..." He trailed off as he handed her the sheet of parchment, which had a short series of numbers on it, and she realized he was uncomfortable.

She smiled. "I'd like that."

For a moment, he simply stared at her, as though he were seeing something he'd never dared to hope for. Then, he leaned forward, grabbed her face in his hands, and kissed her on the forehead in a most un-Georgelike manner.

"You will always be a part of our family," he said quietly. "I'll be glad to have you back as my sister again."

Hermione's smile became watery, and she hugged him. "Thank you, George," she told him. "You don't know how much that always meant to me."

He gave her a strange look. "Course I do. That time when you let me and Fred off the hook even though you saw us detonate the stinkbomb-"

Hermione turned bright red. "Well... well, prefects aren't teachers, after all..."

George grinned. "Good thing you've got at least some experience in the lying department. Because I've got news for you: you're still supposed to be drunk." At her expression (priceless, she was sure), his grin widened. "There's two ways to do this, Hermione. I can give you a nice dose of firewhisky again, or you can... pretend."

His emphasis on the last made it quite clear which he favored. "Just think, Hermione, you'll be helping me out and you'll get to say the most ridiculous things - because, obviously, you're not going to remember them." His eyes twinkled in a way reminiscent of Dumbledore.

She blinked with trepidation.

No. There was no way. She didn't want another hangover, but she hated lying, and to do it for a whole night-

"Oh look at that," George said. "He's coming back. You'll have to choose rather quickly..." A small shot glass appeared in his right hand, held out to her as the lesser of two evils in a very tempting choice.

Hermione decided she didn't want to know how he could come up with a shot of firewhisky that fast. "Complete with memory altering substance," he winked. "Hopefully, this one's not faulty."

"Fine," she snapped, taking the shot glass from him with a nervous look outside. "But if I remember this, you are so dead."

And she tossed it back almost professionally, putting it down on the table as the door opened once again.

The stuff had a bitter taste that stayed in her mouth - tangy, like apple juice. Hermione made a very unhappy face as it reached her near-empty stomach.

Sirius raised an eyebrow as she rose and swayed on her feet, and he handed a few packages off to George with a quiet word before offering her his shoulder to lean on.

Hermione took it, hiccupping once. Her eyes went unfocused as she looked up into his face, and she moaned.

"I don't like liquor for a-" Hic! "-for a reason."

Sirius looked as though he were trying not to smile. "Well, you haven't had any food today. Luckily, I bought some, so why don't we get home and eat before you throw up all over these nice, new robes of mine?"

She noticed with a blink that the shoulder she was leaning on was very soft and very comfortable. Silk. Her clouded mind came up with the very strange, very uncomfortable conclusion that there was very little between her cheek and... skin.

Her face inflamed even more than it had been, but she thought hazily that it didn't matter anyway. She was drunk, damnit, and if she wanted to think the man she'd somehow rescued from the dead was cute, then... well, she would!

"Did I get any silk robes?" she asked blankly.

Sirius chuckled. "Yes, in fact. They're not perfectly sized, but I did the best I could."

Hermione smiled. "Really-" Hic! "-nice of you, really..." A line creased her brow. Had she just repeated herself?

Oh well.

"I got some floo powder, so I suppose we won't be needing to borrow any for the moment," Sirius said to George, but he was looking at her. "Thanks for the help, and, uh..."

Hermione was giggling madly into his shoulder. She couldn't help it. She was cold (she was always cold, people told her that her hands were always cold-) and he was very nicely warm, and Sirius was looking down at her with such a strange expression-

"George," he swallowed. "Have you ever seen Hermione drunk before?"

She felt her giggling increase.

"Nope," George said with a chuckle, "Can't say as I have. Are you trying to discreetly find out what type she is?"

Sirius' eyes widened comically, in a way she'd never seen before, and he shook his head furiously.

Hermione looped an arm around his shoulders and stumbled out the door. "Com'mon, Padfoot, let's go! It's cooold outside..." She shivered as she went out the door, dragging him behind her. She felt his chest convulse from laughter, but decided to ignore it.

"Bye George!" she called back behind her. "Thanks for the- the- whisky!" She stumbled, and Sirius hurriedly threw an arm out in front of her to stop her fall as the door closed behind them.

She could swear George's figure inside had doubled over laughing. But her vision was getting a little blurry, so it might've been her imagination.

Another shiver took her, but there was a nice, warm person behind her, so she leaned backward and closed her eyes with a smile. A pleasant heat suffused her, and the thought hit her that maybe Sirius was one of those people that was always warm. Well that'd be a nice fit, wouldn't it?

"Hermione," he said in a choked voice, whether from laughter or something else she couldn't tell, "Be very, very thankful you will not remember this in the morning." He shook his head helplessly and slipped his arm around her, pulling her close as her shivers stopped.

She did stumble a bit, as they made their way to the grate, but Sirius called out the location of her house for her (had he learned it as a dog?) and the ticklish flames engulfed them.