Study Breaks

Chapter Two

The next day Hermione came down to the common room after lunch, determined to get some extra Herbology studying in before she met with George. She spread her books out on the table and pulled out her notes, setting a fresh scroll and quill down to one side. As she tried to work through the section on cultivating and harvesting fluxweed, her mind kept drifting off topic, towards thoughts of George Weasley. As much as she tried to focus on the pages before her, she kept remembering his smile as he helped her from the couch. She shook her head. Lavender and Parvati were starting to rub off on her, with all their boy craziness. This was not good. 'Focus, Hermione' she ordered herself. She returned to her books with her usual single-mindedness.
An hour or so later, Hermione was so deep in her Herbology notes that she nearly leapt out of her skin at the touch of a hand on her shoulder.
"Woah, calm down there," George grinned down at her.
"Oh, sorry, I guess I was just..." Hermione stumbled to a stop. "What I mean is, usually you're not so quiet. I just wasn't expecting..."
"Sorry 'bout that. I just thought I'd be a little more polite. Didn't mean to scare you."
"It's okay. At least I didn't get ink all over everything today."
"Well, that's a step in the right direction, I suppose." George smiled. "So, is now a good time for you, or should I try again later?"
"Um, now's fine. Everyone else probably won't be back in till dinner, so we should get a good three hours in."
"Okay, I'll get my books and be right back."
He headed up the stairs, leaving Hermione staring after him. He really is kind of cute, she thought, in a mussed up way. And I really shouldn't be thinking these thoughts about my friend's brother. Besides, I'm just Ron's super studious friend to him. There's nothing else there.

They had been working for almost an hour when George threw his quill down.
"I don't know about you," he said, "but my brain is seriously overloaded. I think if I tried to memorize another date, my head might explode. D'you want to run down to the kitchens and get something to eat?"
"You mean break into the kitchens?"
"Hermione, you know that they let us get away with it. It's not like were going to be stealing from Snape's potions cupboard or anything."
George watched in fascination as Hermione started to blush, colour creeping up her face like she was one of those thermoter things that his dad had got from the Muggle hospital. It was cute, actually, though he couldn't for the life of him figure out why she was doing it.
"C'mon Hermione, bend the rules a little for once," he encouraged. "It's good for your health, the excitement gives your heart exercise."
"It's not that," she responded. "I mean, I've been in the kitchens before. I know that we don't really get in trouble for going down there. It was, um, well, uh, never mind."
"What, did you think I was going to make you break into Snape restricted ingredients cupboard?" George teased. "I figure I'll lead you into a life of crime a little slower than that."
"Well, actually, George..." Hermione was the colour of the Quidditch robes George had tossed on the chair beside them. "I, um, have broken into Snape's cupboard. But it was for a really important cause and I would never do it again and if there had been any other way..." She ran out of excuses.
George was staring open-mouthed at Hermione. This 'student of the year,' if not the century, had broken one of the biggest rules. Next thing he knew she was going to confess that she'd been running around the Dark Forest unsupervised or had lied to her professors. This wasn't the Hermione he knew. This was a far more interesting girl altogether.
"Well,' he finally said. "I'm very impressed. Even Fred and I haven't managed that one. This is quite something."
"Please, please promise not to tell anyone. Really, George, I know that if people know it'll get back to Snape somehow and he'd... Well, he's had it out for us for years, so I can only imagine. I might get expelled."
"Hey, don't worry, Mione, your secret's safe with me." George stood up from the couch and reached for her hand. "So, Milady Criminal, you want to go raid the kitchens?"
She placed her hand in his and let him pull her up.

Hermione and George ran through the hallway away from the secret entrance to the kitchens. The pockets of their robes were stuffed with snacks and cookies they'd grabbed in the kitchen and hot on their heels was Mrs. Norris, meowing for all she was worth. Fortunately, Filch hadn't caught up with them by the time they rounded the final turn and flung open the door to the courtyard.
Hurrying across to the gate that lead to the lake shore, George called to Hermione:
"Having fun yet?"
"Oh, tons," she shouted, with an edge to her voice, "nothing like a little exercise and terror to work up an appetite."
"Great. I know a great little spot that Filch can't get to where we can picnic. I think I even stashed a blanket there, assuming Fred hasn't gone and messed with everything."
Hermione didn't reply, but glared at his back as she panted along behind him. Obviously more studying was not on the agenda for today. Which frustrated her since she had a great deal of reading to do for Herbology, and she and George were miles away from him passing his History of Magic exam.
George slowed down to a walk beside her and looked at the grumpy expression on her face.
"What's making you look like you just found a vinegar flavoured bean? Can't stand to spend so long away from your books?"
"Well, its not like we're getting any work done like this. I had thought we were going to take this stuff back up and keep working. This picnic idea was not in the plan."
"C'mon Mione. Take a break once in a while. It's not like the world's going to end because you spend three hours on Herbology instead of four."
"I know, but..." She knew she sounded whiny, but couldn't help it.
"Look, if you really don't want to do this, we can turn back and you can go study to your heart's content. I just thought you might like to take little break, get some sun, relax. You do know how to relax, right?" he teased, looking down in time to receive a glare that would have made Harry and Ron gulp.
"Okay, now you're being mean. I know how to relax, George. I just think that there are a lot of more important things in life and I, for one, am determined to deal with them, not act like a care-for-nothing prankster all the time."
"Woah, ow! That was a little bit harsh, Hermione. I'm not a care-for-nothing. I care about lots of stuff. I just don't let it get in the way of having fun and enjoying life. I mean, do you really enjoy all those hours you spend studying? It's not like it really counts for all that much."
"Doesn't count for much?! Look, George, I think that this picnic was a bad idea. I'm just going to go back to the common room. If you feel like you want to actually get some work done, come find me."
She turned and started marching in the direction of the castle. George stared at her back for a moment and then ran to grab her arm.
"Hermione. I'm sorry if I made you mad. I didn't mean to insult you or anything. Whatever I said, I take it back and I'm sorry. Will you let me show you the picnic spot. It's really nice. And I promise that you can lecture me about the Troll rebellions the entire time we're there. Okay?" He looked at her, trying to see if she was still going to run from him. "I'm sorry, Mione. Just come and look at the cove. It's really beautiful. And then we can get back to the studying."
Hermione stood completely still for a few seconds, then shook her arm loose of his hand. She started walking towards the lake again.
"All right. I'll come. And you didn't insult me, really. I just think that school is serious, and if you're not going to take it seriously, well, it bugs me. That's all."
"Got it. Serious school thoughts happening here." George smiled down at her, and after a few moments Hemione smiled back.
"I doubt you ever have serious thoughts, George Weasley."
"Not if I can help it."
Laughing, the pair continued down the path.

The Weasley's hidden cove was quite lovely, Hermione thought to herself as they arranged their stolen food on the blanket George had laid out. There was a small cave set in the cliff wall they had scrambled down and an expanse of sandy beach in front where a fire pit had been surrounded by stones. The water lapped quietly against the shore as a light breeze ruffled the students' hair.
"I like coming here sometimes, just to sit and think. It's really peaceful, don't you find?" George was speaking quietly, as if using his usual boisterous tones would offend some unseen person.
"Yeah, it's really nice." Hermione cringed at her response. Nice? That seemed a pretty lame word to describe the beauty of the place. "I mean, it's wonderful. I'm really glad that you decided to bring me here. Thank you."
"Not a problem." George smoothed down the corner of the blanket beside him. "So, did you want to run through the Troll wars stuff? I think I'm starting to get it. Well, sort of."
"Um, it's okay. We don't have to talk about school work, really. I'm okay with taking a break."
"Great." He smiled at her. "So what shall we talk about? Quidditch?" Seeing the look on her face, he hurriedly offered "or not? How 'bout, oh I don't know. What do you talk about besides school?"
"Hey, I talk about lots of stuff besides school!"
"Sure you do. I just don't know what."
"Look, I know you don't think so, but school is really important. And it's really important to me to do well in school because...:"
"Well, because why? It's not like you have to live up to having two Head Boys in your family."
"Yeah. Not many head boys in my family, cuz they're all Muggles." Hermione grabbed a custard cream and studied it intently.
"So what? Do your parents get mad if you get bad marks or something? I know mine do." George smiled bitterly. "Although, I think they'd faint if I managed to pull down marks like yours. They've gotten used to the disappointment. It's a tradition in our house, yelling at the twins over their school results."
"No, my parents don't expect great marks. I mean, they expect them because I get them, but they wouldn't be mad over a bad result. They're just so amazed and proud that I'm at Hogwarts. 'A witch in the family, how amazing!' 'Hermione was always destined for great things!' It's all a little overwhelming."
"So there's pressure anyway, it sounds like."
"Well, of course," she said, heatedly. "I'm the first witch in our family. I'm from a completely non-magical family. It's not like I can say 'the Grangers have a long history of great magical importance' or anything."
"So you're trying to prove all those people who look down on Muggles that they're wrong, is that it?"
"Yes! Just because my parents are Muggles doesn't mean that I'm not as good a witch as anyone else."
"Of course it doesn't," George said, trying to calm her. "No one thinks that you're less of a witch because of your parents."
"Yes they do," Hermione snapped. "I can see people like Snape and Malfoy watching me, waiting for me to mess up, because when I do it will prove that Muggle-borns aren't as good as pure-bloods! And so I can't make mistakes. They'll laugh at me. And I'll... I'll..."
"It's okay Hermione," he interrupted. "People like Snape are going to be nasty to you no matter how well you do. They're just mean to begin with. You have to ignore them, because letting them know they bug you just makes them want to be meaner. And no one in their right mind is going to actually believe that having Muggle parents makes you any less of a witch. Some great witches have come from Muggle parents. Look at Lily Potter. She was Muggle-born and that didn't stop her from being a great witch and really respected."
"George, I know all that. But it doesn't make it any easier, okay?" She looked up from her custard cream. "I have nightmares about... well, about horrible things and I'm determined that I will be the best witch that has come out of Hogwarts, and then there won't be any more talk about Mudbloods contam..."
"Hey, no!" George grabbed her hands, squashing the custard cream. "I don't ever want to hear you using that term ever again! I can't believe you think so badly of yourself. I..." he was shaking with anger "I mean that's awful. How can you possibly think of yourself that way?"
Hermione refused to look at him. She stared down at their hands, at the mess of custard all over her fingers.
"Hermione, look at me." George moved one hand to her chin, pulling her face up. "You can't call yourself that. It's a sick, sick word made up by a bunch of incompetent hateful wizards who are threatened by people who are better than they are. They refuse to admit that they are just average, or below average, and so they make up ways of demeaning people who are different and often better. These people hate everyone, wizard family or not. You've heard Malfoy going on about my family, haven't you? They hate everyone. It has nothing to do with who your parents are, okay? Just remember that."
She looked up into his face and managed a weak smile.
"Thank you. Really, thank you. I guess I know that. It's just hard to believe it some days."
"I know what you mean. Being belittled all the time can be pretty bruising to the ego, huh?" George smiled back down at her. "But we're tough, right? Tough and slightly custardy."
Hermione gave a slight laugh. "Slightly custardy. I think I'm fairly seriously custardy, with you smearing it all over my chin."
"Ah, but it looks great. Like icing on a cupcake... uh, just upside down and..." under her gaze he stumbled to a stop. "Okay, I'll shut up now."
"Hey, don't stop." She grinned at him. "I was waiting to see where the cupcake comparison was going. Is my hair like one of those paper cups, or my eyebrows like sprinkles? Or are my eyes like two chocolate chips..." She broke off as he stuffed a jam tart into her mouth.
"Watch me ever try to give you a compliment again," he growled. "Like trying to sweet talk a dragon."
Hermione tried to respond, but was limited by the jammy filling in her mouth.
"Anyway," George continued "all I was going for was that you were sweet and the custard made you look good enough to eat. Waste of breath now."
Hermione had stopped trying to talk through the jam tart, and her cheeks were starting to colour. She was really quite cute with a bit of a blush going on, George thought, even with custard smeared across her jaw. For a mad moment he wondered how hard she'd hit him if he tried to lick it off.
He shook his head, trying to return to more rational thought. Their discussion about her need to prove herself still angered him. The thought that someone as talented and incredible as Hermione thought of herself as a Mudblo... he couldn't even think it without getting furious. Perhaps the next time her saw that Malfoy brat he'd rearrange some of his facial features. Or perhaps he and Fred could come up with something worse from their stash of tricks to nasty for the joke shop. It was a very tempting thought.
Hermione had managed to swallow the jam tart and was busily wiping her hands and face clean as she went over their conversation in her head. She'd never told anyone about her insecurities. And George Weasley wasn't exactly the confidant she'd had in mind for discussing them, even if she'd wanted to. Although he had made some good points, and he'd managed to make her smile. And as for what he'd said after rendering her speechless, well, that was probably just to make her forget about being upset. It wasn't as if George thought of her like that, really. He was just trying to cheer her up, she told herself, that was it.

George and Hermione finished off the food laid out on the blanket, talking idly of this and that. Each was determined to keep the conversation light-hearted as the afternoon turned into twilight. Eventually a companionable silence fell over the couple as they leaned back on their elbows, staring out over the lake. The calm water reflected the sun as it hung low in the sky. Hermione stared out, thinking how much she'd enjoyed relaxing and getting to know the boy beside her. It had really been a wonderful few hours.
"Oh grief!" She jumped up. George looked at her, puzzled. "We've been here for ages! It's got to be dinner time by now. Everyone's going to be wondering where we are and we're going to get into a lot of trouble if we've missed supper and..." She grabbed at the edge of the blanket and tried to pull it out from under him.
"Don't worry, Mione." George stood and took the blanket from her, starting to fold it. "Dinner's not started yet. I was just about to suggest that we head back so that we don't get in trouble. I'm not completely irresponsible, you know."
"Oh. I mean, great. Or sorry." Hermione looked away. "Well, thank you for bringing me here. I had a really nice time." Nice? Nice! That sounded completely lame. "A great time. We should do this again."
"I'd like that."
George put the blanket back in the cave, then took her hand to lead her up the path. Hermione followed him, calling herself all sorts of names for over reacting. By the time they'd reached the top and were crossing over the lawns, she'd reached thimble-wit and was trying to come up with an insult beginning with U.
"What's making you look so serious this time?" George's voice broke in on her thoughts.
"What?... Oh, nothing really, just random thoughts."
"Looked like you were trying to solve the problems of the universe there."
"No, nothing like that, just running over what I have to do tomorrow night," she lied.
"Oh, okay. I don't suppose that I figure in your plans anywhere," he asked. "Because I think I still have a lot of studying to do before I'll be remotely ready for the exam. But if you're busy, I mean, another time is fine."
"No, uh, I mean yes, or..." she grimaced at her babbling. "No, I'm not too busy so yes, we can study some more, if you like."
"Great! After dinner I have a team meeting, but I'm all yours after eight."
He smiled down at her, and Hermione realized that she was starting to really, really like his smile and the way it made her feel warm and short of breath. She could feel herself starting to blush, again, and looked away. It was then that she noticed that they were still holding hands, which made her blush even harder. Maybe studying with him wasn't such a good idea after all. If she kept reacting to him this way she was probably going to spontaneously combust sometime in the next few days.
As they walked through the main entrance of Hogwarts, Hermione noticed a group of fifth year Gryffindors standing in one corner of the courtyard. She pulled her hand from George's and turned to face him.
"So," she tried to make her voice sound business-like "why don't we meet in the common room at eight. If it's too loud we can move to the library. Sound good?"
"Sounds great," he replied. "See you tomorrow at eight, then." Acting on a mischievous impulse, he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks for a great afternoon."
He waved at the stunned group of Gryffindors behind her and turned towards the door that lead to the Great Hall, leaving Hermione red-faced and staring after him. Before he'd even reached the doorway, he heard the students converge on Hermione, shouting questions.

Hermione felt rooted to the spot, her cheek still burning where George had kissed her. George had kissed her? Perhaps she's slipped off into a weird fantasy land and would wake up soon. She realized this wasn't going to happen when she heard Lavender Brown's voice coming from behind her.
"Hermione! How long have you two been carrying on this little secret romance?"
Hermione groaned to herself. Perhaps she'd slipped into a weird nightmare world instead.
"Lavender, get real." Ron's voice sounded more than a little irritable. "Hermione doesn't have a secret romance with my brother, do you Mione?"
Before she could answer, Parvati cut in. "Well, I think they make a really nice couple. And I predicted this would happen, didn't I Lavender?"
"Yup, just yesterday we were talking about how great you two would be together." Lavender nodded firmly.
"Lavender, Parvati," Ron was starting to turn red around the ears, "they are not a couple! How could they be? Am I right, Hermione?"
Hermione nodded, "Ron's right guys. George and I are not dating. I've been helping him study and he was just being... uh, friendly."
"Sure," Parvati drawled, obviously not believing a word of what Hermione had said.
Ron seemed perfectly willing to accept what he'd been told, though, and turned towards the door to the dining hall.
"See Lavender," he said loudly. "You just read to much into it. He was being friendly."
Lavender rolled her eyes as she followed the red headed boy.
Harry had been standing well back from the group, and as they all moved towards the door he snagged Hermione's sleeve. He pulled her back so that they were walking several paces behind the rest of the group.
"C'mon Mione, you don't have to lie to me. Is there something going on between you and George?" he asked quietly. "Because if there is, I'll break it to Ron. He's going to have to deal with you dating at some point."
"And you aren't?" Hermione couldn't help herself.
"Look, Mione. Don't get all offended here. You're my best friend. I love you, but I'm not interested in dating you. Of course, I do reserve the right to reject people you consider and to smack you if you decide to date some one completely icky. And I'll lock you in a closet and throw away the key if you ever consider dating a Slytherin."
"Ewww - I'm about to eat dinner. Don't make me ill!" Hermione made an exaggerated grimace.
Harry grinned. "But you know what I mean, right? I think that you and George would get along great, and I want you to know that if you do decide to date him, I'll support you completely. And I'll rip his heart out with my bare hands if he hurts you. Best friend privileges."
"I get it, Harry." Hermione smiled at her friend as they entered the Great Hall. "Thank you. But I really don't know if he even thinks about me like that. So it might all just be theoretical."
"Oh, I think it might be a little more than theoretical. I'd say from the way he's looking at you right now it's probably a lot more than just theory."
Hermione glanced down the table to where the twins were sitting with their friends. George gazed back at her with a half smile on his face for a few seconds, then suddenly blushed red as a tomato and turned to hit Lee Jordan on the arm.
"Yeah," Harry continued. "I'd say it's pretty much fact."