Butterbeer and Chocolate for the Gryffindor's Soul

After a long time, Hermione stirred. She stepped back, embarrassed, and looked up at George, who was starting to turn pink again. "I..."

And then it happened. Hermione wasn't exactly sure how it happened (she didn't remember George coming any closer to her, and she had just stepped away from him), but the world had shimmered and suddenly she was in the middle of a kiss. A rather enjoyable kiss. While a part of her brain was quite ready to shut off, a small, insistent voice forced her to think about what she was doing. Or rather, with whom.

"Ron!" She backed away, panicking.

He blinked, and appeared as disoriented as she was. "er...Hermione? I'm George... Ron is...oh. Yes." He sat down heavily upon the couch. "Well then. We have a bit of a problem."

"Oh no we don't," she said, turning away.

George raised an eyebrow at her, and then realized that his facial expressions wouldn't exactly affect her in any way since she was looking everywhere but at him. "Er..."

She continued talking loudly, trying very hard to ignore him. "This was just an aberration. Nothing more. Instinct temporarily overcame rational thinking."

"Er..."

Hermione began to pace back and forth in front of the window. "That was just a preconditioned response that was triggered by an unusually high level of stress."

"Hermione...?"

"It meant absolutely nothing." She paused for a moment, shook her head, and continued on her path. "Absolutely nothing." Her voice grew a little more strained. "In fact, it never happened. We can just forget about it."

"HERMIONE!"

His outburst--so unexpected--made her jump. Looking closer, George could see that she was trembling. Hesitantly, he lifted her chin up so that he could see her eyes, and was startled at the fear he found there. "Hermione," he said more gently.

She remained silent, eyes resolutely looking down.

"I thought we went over this. Repression is bad, talking is good. You can't just ignore this."

"Why not?" Hermione met his eyes for a moment. "George, I really, really do not need this right now. Ron and I were already having some problems. OWLs are coming up this year. Umbridge won't teach us anything. And Vo..." She closed her eyes, and swallowed. "George, he's back. It's just a matter of time before there's another attack. I don't know what to do. And I don't like that at all."

"Hermione..." George reached out to touch her arm. "Hermione, it'll be ok."

She pulled away with surprising violence, and when she spoke, each word was laced with scorn. "Don't you understand, George? It's NOT going to be ok."

"You don't know that," he said mildly, but without real conviction.

She snatched her cloak from the couch. "This isn't just some joke, George. Cedric Diggory died last term."

"I know that," he said quietly. "Half my family's in the Order, and I spent the summer at the Order's headquarters. That was one bit of information that we didn't have to find out using the Extendable Ears." He thought for a moment. "Though actually Dumbledore told us that at the feast, so perhaps it doesn't count."

Hermione tried to glare at him, but she could feel her anger ebbing. It was hard to stay unreasonable when faced with calmness. Which is precisely why she had to make her exit as soon as possible. Determinedly, she moved passed George as he tried to block her way to the door and shut her ears against his protests.

The classroom door slammed.