Mine...At Least There Was the View (PG-13, G/H)
Title: Mine...At Least There Was the View
Author: vermillionrho
Disclaimer: Nothing in the HP universe is mine but is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling and her publishers. I'm not doing this for profit and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Pairing: George/Hermione
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1116
Summary: After finally noticing her, he couldn't stop thinking about her.
Warnings: none
Author's Notes: This is the sequel to "Mine . . . Beginnings"
___________________________________________
George silently sighed and mentally cursed the brains Granger had been given. Although, he had to admit, he was still enjoying the view.
The chit had had him so entranced at the Yule Ball that he wasn't sure he'd treated his own date well as he couldn't for the life of him remember the girl even being there that night. All he could remember was Granger. Granger's hair slicked back into a knot that had his fingers itching to pull it down. Granger's face blushing that beautiful shade of pink. Granger's smile. Her laugh. Her blue dress robes that had his hands aching to touch her...
Dammit, he was doing it again! He shook himself and tried to focus on his textbook. Silently sighing again, he'd wondered how he'd fallen so quickly that he was now sitting in front of a textbook pretending to study. Him...George Weasley...studying...
His eyes drifted away from the book for the umpteenth time to watch Hermione nibble at her bottom lip while she read. And for the umpteenth time, he wished with all his heart to feel his own teeth nibbling at that same lip, to feel that lip under his own as he kissed her until her eyes closed with lust and she moaned his name.
George shifted his weight, thankful for the table that hid the sudden tightness of his trousers. He dragged his eyes away from Granger as he ran a hand through his shaggy hair. This was such a stupid idea, he thought to himself. But he had to admit he'd not had any better ones.
He'd watched her constantly as the days after the ball ran into weeks and then months. He'd taken to getting up even earlier than Fred so he could be in the Great Hall when she came down for breakfast. Much as he hated morning and found it difficult to get out of the warm bed, that ruse had proved his most successful. As they were often the only ones at their table at that time of day, she had begun to join him, sitting either beside or across from him. She seemed hesitant to talk at first, and that, in turn, made him feel awkward about speaking, but finally, they had drifted into light conversation. At first it was just remarks about other students or things that were happening, but eventually she began to feel more comfortable with him and would speak about things more important to her.
He just thanked his lucky stars that she didn't bring up that silly idea about the house-elves lest he do something really stupid. Like joining STEW or whatever it was called. And he had no doubts that he would end up doing something that insane as he soon realized how hard it was to deny her something she wanted. All she had to do was touch him. Or smile at him. Or catch his eye. Or say his name.
Or ask him to do it.
Or just mention it in passing...
Merlin help him!
He'd soon known her schedule as well as his own. Fred had followed his lead curiously at first when their route between classes began to intersect hers. George had caught him watching speculatively a few times and had made a point to speak to Harry and Ron or prank one of the other fourth years to throw Fred off the track.
Because he didn't want his twin to know the depths to which he had fallen.
Actually, he didn't want Fred constantly hounding him about the way he was handling things. Or not handling things. Hell, he wasn't handling anything at all, just following along behind her drooling when she wasn't watching. He was so frustrated he couldn't stand himself, but the thought of her finding out how he felt and trying to nicely tell him to forget it made his stomach churn.
So he and Fred sat near her at meals. And he found reasons to be near her in the common room. And he watched her when she wasn't looking. And he kept his feelings to himself.
He wanted her to look up to him. He wanted to impress her. He wanted her to notice him as something other than a nameless twin who was always in trouble. He'd tried to find a way to get her to really see him. He'd tried to play to his strengths, such as they were. But he didn't expect her to be accosted by a bludger in the near future, and he'd had no reason to swoop in on his broom to save her from harm. She didn't need protecting. His girl could take care of herself, as she proved again and again, he'd noticed.
He'd thought over everything she'd ever said to him, everything anyone had ever said about her, everything he knew about her. Finally, he'd decided that the thing she would most appreciate was his intellect.
Now if he could just find some intellect with which to impress her...
Oh, he knew that he was a natural at charms and transfigurations. And actually at potions, although he'd die rather than admit it or prove it since he refused to allow any credit whatsoever go to Snape. But he couldn't think of a way to prove he really was smart to her.
And that was how he came to be sitting in the library, pretending to study, hoping she would run across something she didn't understand so he could explain it to her.
Like that would ever happen.
He sighed silently again, his eyes returning to her face. He loved the way she frowned slightly when she was trying to concentrate. He loved the way she became so engrossed her book that she didn't notice anything around her. He loved the way she would sometimes forget where she was and would pull a knee up to rest her chin on. He'd actually dropped his quill once and ducked under the table to get it, trying to catch a glimpse of her knickers. He loved the way she twirled her hair around a finger while she read. He loved the way she stretched after reading for a long time, her back arching.
He swore under his breath, "Why does she have to be so bloody smart?!"
Fred looked up and frowned, wondering what his twin was on about. He kicked George's leg.
George scowled at Fred and rubbed his shin. Last thing he intended to do was to let his twin know his feelings for Hermione. He sighed and returned to his vigil. Someday, she'd need an answer. And then he'd be there.
Until then, at least there was the view.
Author: vermillionrho
Disclaimer: Nothing in the HP universe is mine but is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling and her publishers. I'm not doing this for profit and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Pairing: George/Hermione
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1116
Summary: After finally noticing her, he couldn't stop thinking about her.
Warnings: none
Author's Notes: This is the sequel to "Mine . . . Beginnings"
___________________________________________
George silently sighed and mentally cursed the brains Granger had been given. Although, he had to admit, he was still enjoying the view.
The chit had had him so entranced at the Yule Ball that he wasn't sure he'd treated his own date well as he couldn't for the life of him remember the girl even being there that night. All he could remember was Granger. Granger's hair slicked back into a knot that had his fingers itching to pull it down. Granger's face blushing that beautiful shade of pink. Granger's smile. Her laugh. Her blue dress robes that had his hands aching to touch her...
Dammit, he was doing it again! He shook himself and tried to focus on his textbook. Silently sighing again, he'd wondered how he'd fallen so quickly that he was now sitting in front of a textbook pretending to study. Him...George Weasley...studying...
His eyes drifted away from the book for the umpteenth time to watch Hermione nibble at her bottom lip while she read. And for the umpteenth time, he wished with all his heart to feel his own teeth nibbling at that same lip, to feel that lip under his own as he kissed her until her eyes closed with lust and she moaned his name.
George shifted his weight, thankful for the table that hid the sudden tightness of his trousers. He dragged his eyes away from Granger as he ran a hand through his shaggy hair. This was such a stupid idea, he thought to himself. But he had to admit he'd not had any better ones.
He'd watched her constantly as the days after the ball ran into weeks and then months. He'd taken to getting up even earlier than Fred so he could be in the Great Hall when she came down for breakfast. Much as he hated morning and found it difficult to get out of the warm bed, that ruse had proved his most successful. As they were often the only ones at their table at that time of day, she had begun to join him, sitting either beside or across from him. She seemed hesitant to talk at first, and that, in turn, made him feel awkward about speaking, but finally, they had drifted into light conversation. At first it was just remarks about other students or things that were happening, but eventually she began to feel more comfortable with him and would speak about things more important to her.
He just thanked his lucky stars that she didn't bring up that silly idea about the house-elves lest he do something really stupid. Like joining STEW or whatever it was called. And he had no doubts that he would end up doing something that insane as he soon realized how hard it was to deny her something she wanted. All she had to do was touch him. Or smile at him. Or catch his eye. Or say his name.
Or ask him to do it.
Or just mention it in passing...
Merlin help him!
He'd soon known her schedule as well as his own. Fred had followed his lead curiously at first when their route between classes began to intersect hers. George had caught him watching speculatively a few times and had made a point to speak to Harry and Ron or prank one of the other fourth years to throw Fred off the track.
Because he didn't want his twin to know the depths to which he had fallen.
Actually, he didn't want Fred constantly hounding him about the way he was handling things. Or not handling things. Hell, he wasn't handling anything at all, just following along behind her drooling when she wasn't watching. He was so frustrated he couldn't stand himself, but the thought of her finding out how he felt and trying to nicely tell him to forget it made his stomach churn.
So he and Fred sat near her at meals. And he found reasons to be near her in the common room. And he watched her when she wasn't looking. And he kept his feelings to himself.
He wanted her to look up to him. He wanted to impress her. He wanted her to notice him as something other than a nameless twin who was always in trouble. He'd tried to find a way to get her to really see him. He'd tried to play to his strengths, such as they were. But he didn't expect her to be accosted by a bludger in the near future, and he'd had no reason to swoop in on his broom to save her from harm. She didn't need protecting. His girl could take care of herself, as she proved again and again, he'd noticed.
He'd thought over everything she'd ever said to him, everything anyone had ever said about her, everything he knew about her. Finally, he'd decided that the thing she would most appreciate was his intellect.
Now if he could just find some intellect with which to impress her...
Oh, he knew that he was a natural at charms and transfigurations. And actually at potions, although he'd die rather than admit it or prove it since he refused to allow any credit whatsoever go to Snape. But he couldn't think of a way to prove he really was smart to her.
And that was how he came to be sitting in the library, pretending to study, hoping she would run across something she didn't understand so he could explain it to her.
Like that would ever happen.
He sighed silently again, his eyes returning to her face. He loved the way she frowned slightly when she was trying to concentrate. He loved the way she became so engrossed her book that she didn't notice anything around her. He loved the way she would sometimes forget where she was and would pull a knee up to rest her chin on. He'd actually dropped his quill once and ducked under the table to get it, trying to catch a glimpse of her knickers. He loved the way she twirled her hair around a finger while she read. He loved the way she stretched after reading for a long time, her back arching.
He swore under his breath, "Why does she have to be so bloody smart?!"
Fred looked up and frowned, wondering what his twin was on about. He kicked George's leg.
George scowled at Fred and rubbed his shin. Last thing he intended to do was to let his twin know his feelings for Hermione. He sighed and returned to his vigil. Someday, she'd need an answer. And then he'd be there.
Until then, at least there was the view.