Written for Hogwarts' Triwizard Tournament: rescuing Abby (Cookies-and-Ink), OTP: George/Hermione, AU: Muggle, Dialogue: "I've had four drinks but I feel fine. Am I immune? Am I a god? Am I superhuman? Am I…passing out…?", Word: squiggle, the Dragon Appreciation Month, the Career Advice Assignment: Task 2 - Write about a character suddenly seeing someone for who they really are, the Writing Club: Showtime - So Big / So Small - (style) Flashback, the Insane House Challenge: Plot Point - Reuniting with someone after a long time, the Sticker Challenge: Phoenix - Write about starting anew, the 365 Prompts Challenge: Era - Trio.

Word count: 2190

falling in reverse

"Tell me why we're here again?" Hermione asked dryly, looking down at the table Ginny had somehow managed to snatch for them before vanishing into the crowd to get drinks.

It was sticky and dirty, and Hermione didn't want to know how bad their seats were if the table was this bad.

"We're here because Ginny invited us," Harry replied. He rolled his green eyes at her and drummed his fingers on the table, uncaring as to the stickiness that made Hermione balk.

Here was the Leaky Cauldron, a pub that seemed, at least for tonight, right out of a fantasy book. Unfortunately, that included the poor lighting and overwhelming beer smell that came with those too.

"Your girlfriend is the worst," Hermione moaned. She wished she could drop her head in her arms on the table, but she really didn't want to get closer to that.

Harry huffed out a laugh. "She's your best friend," he pointed out.

Hermione gave a mock sigh, and said, "Not for much longer if she doesn't hurry back."

It seemed like the words as worked as a summon, because the instant they came out of her mouth, Hermione spotted a familiar crown of red hair cutting through the crowd.

"Well, finally!" she started to say, standing up so Ginny could wiggle herself next to Harry. her mouth snapped shut when she saw that her friend wasn't alone.

She barely registered Harry standing up and greeting the new man warmly. "George, man, it's good to see you!" Harry was saying. "It's been so long!"

"Two years," George was replying in the same cheerful tone. "Have you been good to my baby sister?"

Ginny, with a smile as sharp as a knife, stepped on his foot until he apologized for assuming he had anything to say about her love life.

Finally, he turned away from Harry and Ginny, and faced Hermione. Her heart raced — he looked exactly as she remembered. Brown eyes filled with mirth, flyaway red hair and a face that screamed 'bad idea'.

Eight months ago, that bad idea hadn't seemed quite so terrible though.

Until he had run out on her in the morning, leaving her with only an illegible squiggle for a note.

Looking into clear brown eyes, however, it was clear that despite her wishes, George remembered that night too.

.

"I've had four drinks but I feel fine. Am I immune? Am I a god? Am I superhuman? Am I…passing out…?"

Hermione couldn't help but laugh as she and Harry hurried over to catch Ginny as her legs crumbled underneath her. This was a tradition by now: every Friday night, they'd go out for drinks, just the three of them. On other days of the week, they met up with other friends, but somehow, Friday had become their night.

"You need to stop drinking," Hermione replied dryly, taking a glass that was still almost half-full from her friend's hand.

"Noo," Ginny moaned, eyes half-lidded as she made a grab for her glass.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione set down the drink on their table, well out of Ginny's reach.

"You'll get it back later, alright?" Hermione shot Harry a pointed look, and he nodded. Together, they forced her to sit down.

"I want it now," Ginny moaned as she settled in her seat, and promptly draped herself all over Harry.

Hermione bit back a chuckle. Harry tried to glare at her, but he was already rearranging Ginny's limbs so she'd be comfortable, and he was smiling lovingly at her, so Hermione figured he wasn't too mad.

"Drink some water first," Harry coaxed her gently, pushing his own glass of water into her hand. "You'll feel better."

"But I feel great now." Ginny pouted and then, quick as a snake, she buried her head against Harry's neck, blew a raspberry there, and burst out laughing.

Harry stared at her with fond exasperation and kissed the top of her head.

Hermione looked away, throat tight.

"I'm going to go get another drink," she said. "For me. And I'll bring you guys more water, alright?"

Harry shot her a concerned look but Hermione waved it away quickly.

Sighing, she started to make her way through the crowded place. Somehow, Ginny always managed to find the most interesting places — even if no one quite dared to ask her how — but those places were also always insanely busy, which was honestly the one thing Hermione hated about those nights going out with her friends.

Finally, however, she reached the bar.

"Two glasses of water, please," she asked the barman.

The man, tall with dark brown hair tied in a low ponytail, nodded at her. A few minutes later, two glasses filled with water slid in her direction.

They were halted less than a foot away by a pale hand. Hermione spun around to protest but lost her words when she saw who had interrupted her.

The man was tall and thin, but not sickly so. In fact, Hermione could see finely defined lines through his shirt, and she blushed fiercely when she realized she had been staring, her eyes snapping upward, catching deep brown eyes before refocusing somewhere in his red hair, since that seemed relatively safer.

The man was smirking at her, lips pulled up to reveal perfect white teeth. He was so handsome it was unfair.

"You can look all you want," he said. Somehow, his tone didn't sound as oily as she'd expect, considering that terrible line was accompanied by an equally bad wink. "I'm George," he said, extending a hand.

"Hermione," Hermione replied, shaking it on reflex. She was still a little dazed, and she shook her head slowly to try to clear her head.

Considering George's eyes had just started to twinkle with mischief, that wasn't working at all.

"So, tell me, Hermione, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. She considered leaving, but… Something held her back. Maybe it was the way that line had somehow sounded sincere — or like he was mocking himself, and not her.

"Did it hurt to say that line out loud?" she countered. Her eyes flickered to the water she had promised her friends, but… Well, knowing Harry and Ginny, they could handle themselves. They were probably doing something she'd rather not interrupt by now (or at least Ginny would be trying to, because she got a bit handsy when she drunk, while Harry had too many bad memories of his drunk uncle to ever enjoy alcohol himself, and too many morals to take advantage of anyone).

George's smile widened into a truer grin, and the lines of his shoulders relaxed. He looked even more handsome now, and Hermione had to swallow a keening sound climbing at the back of her throat.

"A bit," he admitted with a shrug. "But not as much as it did for you, I'm sure."

Hermione huffed out an amused laugh. "Sorry, but I'm afraid I'm not actually an angel." She was incredibly flattered though. "And I didn't come from heaven."

"Hell, then?" George offered with a laugh.

Hermione shook her head. "Do those lines ever work for you?"

"You tell me," George replied, voice suave, and Hermione' heart skipped a beat.

She hummed for a moment, mouth dry. She ran her tongue over her lips, tasting the remnants of the sugary drink Ginny had forced into her hand what seemed like hours ago but was probably closer to half an hour.

She eyed him again, this time not even bothering with trying to hide her interest, and drummed her fingers on the counter.

"Maybe," she admitted.

This was crazy — Hermione wasn't the type to hook up with someone at a bar. She'd say that was Ginny, but her friend was blissfully happy with Harry and frighteningly faithful to him.

Going home with a total stranger wasn't something she did, and yet, right now she really wanted to.

Her eyes drifted to the glasses of water again, and a twinge of guilt pinged in her chest. And yet, somehow, that was what made the decision for her. She dug her phone out of her pocket.

To: Harry
10:58 pm

Don't wait up for me, I'm going home.

Less than thirty seconds later, her phone vibrated with a reply from Harry.

From: Harry
10:58 pm

Are you alright?

Followed by a series of illegible key smashes, before the texts became readable again.

From: Harry
10:59 pm

Have fun!
Don't do anything I wouldn't do!
Or do!
Get that booty girl!

Followed by a series of emojis that ended with an eggplant and a sparkle that had Hermione cringe at her phone and blush furiously again, even if she was glad Ginny seemed to be feeling better.

"Looks like it's your lucky night, then," she told George, heart pounding in her chest.

George grinned at her. For a moment, he looked a bit thrown — surprised, she was sure — but that only made Hermione like him more, and reassured her that she had made the right decision.

"Really?" he asked.

"Really," she confirmed. And, channeling every bit of bravery she'd ever had, she rose on her toes and kissed him.

It was just for a moment, only a graze of their lips, but it stole her breath away anyway. When she pulled back, her lips tingled.

"Well, then," George said, blinking dazedly, "lead the way."

.

It wasn't the best sex she'd ever had, but it did rank in her top ten.

Which was why Hermione felt her stomach drop when, in the morning, she sleepily reached across her bed and met cold sheets where she expected a warm mattress.

She found the note half an hour later, when she finally managed to convince herself to get out of bed.

It was almost illegible. Clearly, George had left it in a hurry.

He had also, she noted with quite a lot of stunned anger, not left any means to contact him again.

.

Hermione kept staring into George's eyes. She couldn't look away.

He hadn't changed — not that she'd expected him to, of course. It hadn't been that long. But still, it was jarring to see him again so suddenly, especially like this.

"Hermione," Ginny was saying, "this is my brother, George. George, this is Hermione, ie probably the only reason I passed my social studies class last year."

"You did that on your own," Hermione retorted with a familiar eyeroll, before the rest of Ginny's words registered.

"You're Ginny's brother," she stated, mouth running dry. Her blood ran cold in her veins, and yet, now that she had seen it, she couldn't unsee it. She couldn't see anything else — how hadn't she realized before?

George nodded mutely.

Ginny frowned and pulled away a little from Harry, eyes shifting back and forth between Hermione and George.

Hermione could see the moment it hit her. She gasped.

"Holy shit, you slept with my brother!" she cried out, slapping Harry in the arm. "Sorry," she hurried to tell him, shooting him an absent-minded apologetic look. "And you!" she added, spinning around to face George, "you slept with my best friend! What the hell?!"

"It was just one time," George protested, putting his hands up defensively.

"How is that any better?" Ginny screeched, waving her arms.

George rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. He let out a tired sigh. "Honestly, little sister, I don't think it's really much of your business." His eyes drifted back to Hermione and held.

It hit her then; "That's why you ran out," she said, the words tasting like knives in her throat. "You found out I was Ginny's friend."

George winced sheepishly. "Actually, I thought you were dating her. Or that she was pining for you — that's why I ran."

"That's ridiculous," Hermione stated in unison with Ginny, but George's honest confession took the wind out of her sails, smothering her anger before it could spark up again.

"I know that now," George replied with a dramatic moan. "Honestly, if she and Harry had actually decided to come out with their relationship before they got caught, this could have been avoided very easily."

Despite herself, Hermione huffed out a laugh. Beside her, Harry and Ginny started to argue about their reasons for keeping their relationship a secret for as long as they had.

Having heard them enough times to know them by heart, Hermione tuned them out. She found that her eyes were back to drifting toward George, who was smiling lasciviously at her.

"What do you say we get out of here?" George asked, that mischievous grin she had first fallen for back on his lips.

Hermione frowned, trying to calm down the rapid pace of her heart. "Just for a drink," she stated solemnly. "And some talking."

"Just for a drink and some talking," George agreed, eyes twinkling. "I pinky swear."

Hermione grinned and gladly followed him out of that bar.

And as for what happened after that drink...

Well, that was another story.