Fred and George were starting to enter the portrait hole to the common room when it flew open and a mess of brown waves rushed passed them.

"What's up with Granger, library closing?" Fred asked, snickering.

George grinned but kept his eyes on Granger's back. She was walking, or more like running, down the hall and then disappeared around the corner. From the brief look of her face George saw that her cheeks were wet.

"Hey, I'll be right back,"

"All right," Fred answered, his attention focused on Angelina Johnson from in the common room.

George grinned and followed Granger's path. She was far ahead of him, gaining speed and distance. He almost lost her as he entered the Entrance Hall, which was crowded with students heading in and out to enjoy the day. He caught sight of a running brunette heading to the courtyard and managed to push his way through the crowd. Thankfully, the courtyard was empty and he saw that she was heading for the Black Lake, giving George time to catch his breath.

"Merlin," he huffed. "When did Granger get that…fit?"

He grinned to himself. He wasn't going to deny it, Granger grew up over the summer and some guys where starting to notice, him especially. She was still a bookworm, and a slight know-it-all, but after the whole Chamber incident she seemed more…lively. And to be quite honest that was what caught George's attention in the first place this summer. She laughed easily, bested Ron when they argued (especially over her cat), and hasn't always been seen with her nose in a book at dinner.

George saw her settle herself under a willow, whose branches blocked away the cold and stretched over the lake barely touching the icy surface. It barely snowed this morning and Granger sat down on a patch of brown grass, looking intently out into the frozen waters.

"Hey Granger," George said casually, leaning against the trunk of the tree behind her.

She jumped, turning around giving George a good look at her face. Her eyes were red but her brown eyes seem brighter than usual and the tip of her nose was red with her cheeks wet around them.

"Oh George, um…" she stammer, trying to discreetly wipe her face. "Harry and Ron are back in the common room, and I haven't seen Fred anywhere."

"I know," he said, sitting next to her. "They are all back at the common room, where we were about to enter when a certain brunette almost ran us over."

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed embarrassed, "I didn't mean to, I just needed to…"

"Get out of there?" he suggested, giving her a small smile.

Hermione returned with a sad smile. "Yeah, but I'm fine now, just need some time away from the prat."

"Since we're obviously talking about Ron, what stupid thing did he say this time?"

Hermione gave a small laugh, which made George's chest tighten hearing it, even if it was a little forced.

"Well, you heard about Harry's new broom right?"

"Yeah, from Wood, Fred and I were just about to see it."

Her face fell but she continued. "Well, you remembered what happen to Harry's first Quidditch game his first year right?"

"Yeah," George said, following her. "He almost fell off his broom 'cause Quirell cursed it."

She nodded, "And when Harry all of a sudden receives a new broom…I couldn't help but think of that moment…and what's happening with Sirius Black…"

"You think Black sent a cursed Firebolt?" George asked.

"Yes…and I told McGonagall and she took it to run tests on it. Now, Ron's mad at me and thinks that I…" her voice broke, but she swallowed back the tears "That I am purposefully trying to sabotage their chances at winning this year."

"Well…" he said uneasily.

"You think that too?" she questioned with a shock expression.

"What? No!" he exclaimed quickly. "I was joking. Ron was just inches from being near a professional racing broom, and he's being a prat that he won't ride anytime soon and he doesn't believe that Harry's good without it, which is bullocks."

Hermione nodded, wiping her tears with the sleeve of her robe. "That's true but no one seems to believe that."

"They do, we've just never been within touching distance of the fastest broom in the world."

"Still, I would rather him be safe than have to worry about some statistics," her voice wavered a bit as she held in her tears. "It's a bloody broom for Merlin's sake! I don't understand why they think it's more important than someone's life."

Tears of frustration began to pour down her cheeks, her hands cradling her face. George frowned at her state and patted her shoulders in comfort.

"Mi, it's okay," he said. "If Ron's having a fit over a broom that isn't even his then that makes him only one thing, a prat!"

He heard and felt her chuckle but suddenly stopped, she pushed herself away from his shoulder and gave him a look.

"Mi?" she asked, with a raised eyebrow and red eyes.

"Oh, well you know…Mione, Mi." George explained, feeling the tips of his ears burn in embarrassment—an unfortunate Weasley trait.

Hermione tilted her head in thought, "Mi…I like it, at least it's better than Herms."

"Herms?" George exclaimed chuckling. "Who in their right minds would call you Herms?"

"Can't you guess?" she asked, wiping her eyes.

George shook his head, "Can't that prat do anything right?"

Hermione smiled but looked at him disapprovingly, "You shouldn't say that about your brother."

"I can and I will," George defied, rummaging in the inside of his robe. "It's in the job description."

Hermione shook her head, amused. George smiled at her and pulled out a white handkerchief, offering it to her.

Hermione looked at with caution. "A handkerchief?"

"Mum insists," he shrugged. She looked from the cloth to his face, still skeptical, making him chuckle. "I swear on my twin it's safe. No pranks, no gimmicks."

Hermione smiled and took it out of his hand. After dabbing her eyes and cheeks dry. She handed it back after tapping the wetness dry with her wand.

"Thanks."

"Anytime," He said, folding the cloth and tucking in his cloak pocket

"I would never believe that you carried around a handkerchief,"

"And people say chivalry is dead," he teased, making her grin. "Plus I get the sniffles."

He threw her a pouting childish look, causing her to laugh. George couldn't help but watch her laugh. A genuine laugh he was glad to witness.

"Nice to know,"

A moment of silence passed between them, their gaze looking out towards the lake.

"Why did you feel the need to check up on me?" she asked her brow furrowing in thought.

"Well besides trying to run us over—"

She gave him a shove with her arm.

"—you looked distraught, and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to get back at Ronniekins."

"Oh really, and what would that entail?" she question.

"Pranks that are worthy enough to be considered legend to that old castle," he said smiling dreamily.

Hermione laughed again, shaking her head. "Flitch is already singing your praises."

George grinned at her, "Then my work is almost half done."

She smiled knuckling her wet eyes, sniffling, "You and Fred are going to get in great trouble one of these days."

"That's what we live for!"

Hermione looked down at him, his cheeky smile contagious. She found herself smiling with him, the fight with Ron somewhat forgotten.

"Thanks for distracting me," she said gratefully.

"Distracting? Oh no, I haven't even begun to distract you."

George looked around them and spotted a patch of rock bed near the shoreline. He grabbed a handful of small pebbles and flicked his wand at the branches, parting them to reveal the frozen lake.

"Alright, the one who gets the giant squid to break free wins."

"Wait, what?" she exclaimed confused.

"Toss the rocks in the lake and see whose rock gets the squid to break through the ice," he explained, holding out a rock to her.

She pursed her lips, looking at the pebble, "Throwing rocks?"

"Afraid to lose?"

She glanced up at him, his face holding a teasing smirk. She took the rock and flung it out into the lake watching it skit across the ice.

"You call that a throw? Use your arm more," he said demonstrating.

They watched as it went further than hers. He turned to her with a cocky smile spread across his face and raised eyebrows. She rolled her eyes and grabbed another one from his hand.

"What's the prize to who wins?" she asked, throwing the rock and letting it go. It went further than her first, but not by much.

George opened his mouth to speak, but closed it as a thought formed in his mischievous mind. "How bout this? I owe you a box of your favorite sugar quills—"

"How did you-?"

"But," George continued, smiling at her as he threw one. "You have to give me a kiss."

"A kiss?" Hermione asked in disbelief. "You?"

"What?" he asked dramatically. "I'm not worthy to be kissed by the great Hermione Granger? Oh, how can you be so cruel?"

"That's not what I meant!" she exclaimed. "What I mean is why would you suggest a thing with me?"

"I have my reasons, but don't worry it's nothing bad."

Hermione eyed him warily, watching him throw the rocks into the lake.

"Come on, do you want those sugar quills or not?"

She grinned and took his handful of rocks.

"Hey! Haven't you heard of sharing?" he accused, reaching over to grab a few from her grasp.

"Every women for herself!" she claimed attempting to avoid his reach while throwing rocks to the ice.

"Well, excuse me!" he mocked in a high-pitched voice, grabbing a few from her hand and tossing them with vigor.

They continued tossing rocks to the lake, laughing all the while. When they ran out of pebbles crawl to the shoreline pushing and shoving each other out of the way. George tossed a rock and finally the ice crack beneath it, large green-grey tentacles grasping at the air above the lake.

He turned to her, giving her his cheeky grin. "Pay up dearie,"

Hermione blushed at his graze but returned his smile. "Close your eyes."

George raised an eyebrow.

"I can't do it when you stare at me, you'll make me nervous."

George rolled his eyes but closed his eyes anyway. Women.

Hermione grinned and shifted till she was in front of him. She held back a laugh as George leaned forward with his eyes closed and he lips pursed slightly. She shook her head, quickly kissed his cheek and got up heading back towards the castle.

"Wait, what was that?" George called after her, still sitting on the grass.

"A kiss," she stated. "You never said where."

George stared at her but then it turned into a proud smile.

Hermione waved at him in a dramatic farewell, "Be specific next time, Mr. Weasley."