Chapter 9: Pranks and Duels

The pair walked up the the Gryffindor tower holding hands amidst all the other students that were on their way too. Ginny Weasley walked up to them.

"'Oh great, I caught up with you two. You kind of disappeared after supper—oh my... are you two holding hands?" she asked astonished. "I knew it! I just knew it!"

"Knew what, Ginny?" asked George, playing dumb.

Ginny gestured wildly to their hands with a crazed, happy-excited look on her face. George looked down to where she was gesturing.

"Oh! That. Two friends can't hold hands?" asked George with an innocent look on his face. Ginny scrutinized him viciously, trying to decide if he was pulling her leg or not.

"So you're saying you're not dating?" questioned Ginny, now thoroughly confused.

"Now, who said that?" asked Hermione playing along as well.

George grinned at his brilliant girlfriend. He had only planned on giving Ginny a little bit of confusion, but Hermione had just confused his little sister even more. She looked carefully between the couple like a tennis match.

"I see what your doing. You're just pretending to date to confuse me so I'll tell everyone, and then look stupid when they find out that you're not really together. Well, I'm not going to fall for it!" said Ginny with a smirk before storming off ahead of them in the hallway.

"That was...awesome," said George for lack of a better word.

"I know," said Hermione with a smug expression on her face. "Now we can do pretty much anything in front her, and she won't believe that we're together. Even with our Hogsmeade date next weekend."

"Oh, I suppose that is a date now, then, isn't it?"

"Wasn't it always?" asked Hermione with a giggle, dragging George up the stairs.

A little later the 7th years were gathered around the Common Room attempting to complete the plethora of homework that had been assigned to them this weekend. As usual, they regretted not completing it earlier, when they had the chance. Sunday night was always a difficult one.

"You were right, Hermione. I'm definitely glad we started this assignment earlier," said George in reference to the Charms essay he had just finished, while most of the others in their class had barely written three inches on their parchment.

"See, there's a method to my madness," said Hermione knowingly, still scribbling lightening fast on her own parchment."

"And it sure is madness," said George under his breath, but still loud enough for Hermione to be able to hear.

"What was that?" she asked with a smile.

"Oh nothing, love."

"Sure," she replied, still smiling.

Hermione secretly enjoyed it when he called her love. They didn't use any other nicknames, mostly, even though they had only been together for approximately two hours. But still. George already knew that Hermione would probably not enjoy being all lovey-dovey, just by her normal, quiet nature.

"Well, I must be right. Your essay seems like it's going on three rolls of parchment long," George pointed out.

"How would you know? You've never seen anything three rolls of parchment long," Hermione fired back quickly. "I bet even that one roll you just wrote is pushing your limit."

George laughed at her joke. "I'll have you know that I'm one of Hogwart's finest writers."

"Let me see," demanded Hermione, always ready for a completion. She put down her quill.

George handed her the essay and she began to read it. He decided that he liked her even more when she read, mostly because of the way her face screwed up in concentration as her eyes darted back and forth across the page. He thought back to all the many times he'd seen Hermione reading. The first time had been back when she was thirteen and had spent the summer at his house after her 2nd year. Her face was always the same, and the only thing he hated was that he could never tell if what she was reading pleased her or not. However, sometimes while she was reading, a brief smile would flash across her features about something she had read. That's how you knew.

George sighed. He hadn't realized he'd been watching Hermione for such a long period of time.

Hermione looked up at him with an impressed and amused expression on her face. "You really are a fine writer," said Hermione. "And your penmanship is excellent, better than mine." She looked briefly down at her own messy handwriting.

"Really? You think so?" asked George. "I was only joking, you know. I don't really think my writing is all that great."

"Well it is!" exclaimed Hermione. "Now let me finish mine, quickly, so we can practice the twelve new D.A.D.A Techniques for half an hour."

"Alright," George agreed.

He threw his arm around the back of the couch, and rested his eyes a bit. It was always necessary for a little rest after such a long essay as that one. It was almost funny to him to say that he enjoyed the mindless chatter of the Common Room, the scratch of quills on parchment, and the sound of spells being practiced. It was sad that this was officially his last year here. Gryffindor had been his home for so long, longer than most students. He'd gone through so much here, and even at his age, over twenty, he was still going through things. It was part of the proof that Hogwarts was indeed, timeless. He knew that one day he would be sending his own children there.

Thirty minutes passed, and George felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"George," said Hermione quietly. "Wake up. We still need to practice the Techniques."

"Of course," he said getting up. "I was just resting my eyes."

"Sure you were," said Hermione with a smile. "Are you still up to it? You look a little tired."

"Of course I am," George replied standing up. "You're not even ready for this amazing magical power that is about to descend upon you!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but the effect was ruined since she was also laughing. "Well see," she said with a playful smile.

George didn't like it when she smiled like that. It meant that she was up to something. This theory proved to be right when Hermione fired a spell at George. It was a harmless one of course, because they were only practicing the Techniques. Hermione enjoyed them specifically because they were new ways of firing the spells she already knew so well. The Techniques included new ways to hold the wand when in sticky situations such as lying on the floor, with your back turned, or if you just wanted to be sly. Hermione had fired it over her head towards George, who thanked his lucky stars that he had quick reflexes. He ducked, and the spell missed him by mere inches. Instead, it hit the wall which caused a little hole to appear there.

"Oh, so that's how you've been ahead of your class," said George. "You don't play fair, Miss Granger." With that, he fired a spell at her from under his arm and she retaliated. Hers met George's in the middle and caused both spells to expire.

By now, the entire common room had looked up, interested in a duel, especially since Hermione Granger, herself was involved. George and Hermione spent about fifteen minutes dueling in front of their on lookers who were impressed. Everything was nonverbal, so they could only guess at what spells their peers were using. By the looks of it, they weren't too bad, but one could never be sure. By the end of the duel, Hermione had George pinned on the ground with her wand at his throat.

"Mercy," he moaned looking terrified.

Hermione smirked, stood, and dusted off the front of her skirt. All was silent, since the rest of the Gryffindors didn't know what to say or do. Then, one brave little first year broke out into a cheer and everyone else applauded as well. Hermione offered her hand to George, who gratefully accepted it.

"Well I suppose we're prepared for class tomorrow," he mused, and a few people chuckled at his comment. "Alright, everyone get back to whatever you were doing before this happened!" he commanded kindly, but in a loud voice.

Everyone obeyed. Since George technically was the oldest there, they didn't mind following his orders at all.

"Well, well, well," said Fred's portrait. "That was a finer show than even Harry and Malfoy put on back in dueling club. I'm shocked. Too bad you didn't win. You make us look so bad, Georgie!"

George frowned. "This won't be our last duel, I assure you of that. Our reputation will be restored. As for me, I think I'm going down the the Hospital Wing to get something for these bruises."

"I'll come with you," Hermione offered.

The two set off towards the portrait hole. Hermione glanced back quickly at Fred's portrait, an idea forming in her head. Fred winked at her.