Butterbeer and Chocolate for the Gryffindor's Soul

"See, the trouble with having a secret stash of chocolate," George said in a slightly muffled voice, "is that it attracts entirely too many unwelcome visitors."

"Like Gryffindor fifth-years?" Hermione asked lightly.

George's head appeared from under the teacher's desk. "I said unwelcome visitors," he chided. "I'm thinking more along the lines of ants, rats, Mrs. Norris, Filch, and other pesky creatures."

Hermione peered down at him. "What exactly are you doing, anyway?

"Well," George said from his position on the floor, "the chocolate has to be in a place where nobody'd think to look, right? And even if the old Defense Against Dark Arts teacher had a sweet tooth, this place hasn't been used for years. But just in case, I put it in a secret compartment I found under the desk. Trouble is, you can only get to it with a screwdriver, so I had to leave one in the closet. It's kind of hard to get to--that's why this is taking so long." He made one final twist. "There, I got it."

She stared at him as he scrambled out from under the desk. "You sure do have some free time on your hands..."

George busied himself with opening a Chocolate Frog box for her. "Before there was always Fred, but now he has Angelina, and there's also Lee, but he's trying to get Alicia's attention..." He looked up and handed her the box. "And well, Katie's nice enough and I guess she's pretty and all, but I've never been that into the whole girlfriend thing, at least not yet, and..."

"And I think Katie's interested in some guy from Ravenclaw," Hermione added quickly. "I overheard her telling Alicia once in the bathroom."

George gave her a self-deprecating smile. "In any case, there's me left pretty much alone in the Gryffindor common room and I don't feel like tagging around Harry or Ginny or my friends in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. I don't want to be a third wheel."

She looked at him skeptically. "A third wheel? One of the Weasley twins?"

"Exactly!" he said, turning away. "One of the Weasley twins. We usually work off of each other. And I know it seems like we're exactly alike and it shouldn't make any difference, but Fred and I have different strengths, different weaknesses. When we're together we can cover for each other and it's not as obvious. But alone..." George focused intently on a spot on the floor.

"Fred seems to be doing okay..." Hermione said hesitantly.

He shook his head dismissively. "Fred's always been a little flashier."

Hermione smiled wryly. "It's almost funny, really. You're afraid of no longer being in the spotlight without your twin, and Ron's worried that his older brothers will keep him in the shadows forever."

In one rapid movement, George turned back to face her once more, this time with concern written plainly on his face. "He never said anything about that to us..."

"He usually doesn't say anything about it to anyone," she told him. "And Harry being... well, Harry doesn't exactly help."

"But he talks to you," George said, with a hint of a question in his voice.

Hermione looked down. "Yes," she answered quietly, "he does."

"My little brother is one very lucky guy," he said with a bit of a smile. "And who does Hermione talk to?" he asked softly, leaning against the couch with his arms crossed.

At first she didn't meet his eyes. "Ron, mostly. Sometimes Harry. Or Ginny." She looked up at him with a half-smile. "Today, it's you."

George's eyes remained troubled. "I don't like it."

Hermione looked at him with a puzzled look on her face. "What?"

He viciously attacked a Chocolate Frog and bit its head off. "Ron not telling us anything. Everyone turning to you. You not really turning to anyone."

"I never said that," she answered, eyes looking down.

George snorted. "Contrary to popular belief, I am not a complete idiot. And I am willing to bet every Galleon that I possess that you do the listening a lot more often than you do the talking."

"Whatever makes you think that?" she asked defensively.

He looked at her. "Hermione, you were crying after an argument that you claim was over 'nothing.' That kind of screams repressed emotions. And I've seen people come to you with their problems--Ron, Harry, Neville..." His voice softened a little. "Ginny told us how nice and understanding you've been for her. The whole family was worried that after her first year she'd have problems adjusting. And you helped her. A lot." There was a moment of awkward silence before George cleared his throat and continued. "I mean, it's wonderful that you're helping people, but it's not healthy for you. You need someone to talk to. Now you're just carrying their burdens as well as your own."

His suspicions were confirmed as he saw her eyes glisten brightly. "I'm afraid I'm going to crack," she said, trying desperately to remain tear-free. "It usually isn't so bad, but with You-Know-Who about to do who-knows-what..." She wiped at her eyes. "I hate feeling so weak..."

"You're not weak," George told her, taking a step closer. "You're just a remarkably brilliant witch that has entirely too many things to worry about. It would be enough to make anyone want to cry." He touched her arm gently. "And I think it would be a good idea if you did. Might let some of the bad feeling out."

Hermione pulled out George's handkerchief and blew her nose. "I didn't realize that I had any tears left today." Her small smile wobbled before dissolving completely. The faucets had begun to leak once more.

Hesitantly, George came even closer and awkwardly held her as she sobbed raggedly. With nothing left to hide, she accepted his help and moved closer into the circle of his arms.