Here is my entry for the Twin Exchange's February challenge: Love in Unusual Places. My location was the Mer-Village in the lake at Hogwarts, which was suggested by Queen of Duct Tape.

Mermaid Scales

From the moment Dolores Umbridge set foot in Hogwarts, the air about the school had changed. It was no longer the fun-loving environment that Professor Dumbledore encouraged. Now that the Ministry was starting to sink its hooks into the magical community's education system, Hogwarts was starting to become more rigid about how students were taught.

The fifth and seventh-year students had the most difficult time in adjusting to this new regime, especially those in the house of the lion. These students were preparing for their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s respectively, which was exceeding difficult; Umbridge refused to teach them how to defend themselves. Ever since it was revealed that the Ministry did not wish for the students to be taught how to defend themselves, which would leave the next generation of witches and wizards defenseless against possible threats – um, Voldemort – the Gryffindors were trying to find a way to ensure that they could defend themselves.

In the meantime, everyone in the house of the lion did what they could to stay under the High Inquisitor's radar. No one wanted to face her wrath. For two particular Gryffindor seventh-years, that meant they had to be careful about how they went about playing their pranks, selling their products as well. Even in their own house, the Weasley twins had to be careful about how they did that; newly-crowned prefect Hermione Granger was making sure that business was stunted, at least until the boys were finished with school. Despite the attacks coming from both the administrative and from within their own house, Fred and George could often be found in the corridors testing their products on unsuspecting first-years. They were not about to abandon their business plan, especially after Harry gave them the start-up capital; they were still trying to scrounge up the money for a premise.

After a particularly nasty encounter with Filch, in which Fred had been slammed with a week's worth of detention, the twins had taken to sitting in a corner of the common room discussing the best way to solve the problem they were currently faced with. "We need something that will extend the illusion," Fred mused. "It didn't last as long as we wanted it to."

"But, we've tried everything!" his twin complained.

"Not everything," Fred corrected.

"Which one is left?" George asked.

"Mermaid scales," Fred reminded him.

"But, it's almost impossible to get hold of them!"

Fred smirked. "You know just how to get them, Forge."

A dark blue gaze slid towards a bushy-haired Gryffindor. "Gred, there's no way that she will ever agree to help us. You know perfectly well that she disapproves of what we've been doing."

"Find a way," his brother insisted. "We need those scales."

As his brother went to go speak with his girlfriend, George threw his head in his hands and groaned. He knew what it took to obtain those scales. The task was impossible. Fred had a better chance of swimming out to the mer-village and asking one of the mermaids for some of her scales. But, that would never work. It had to be George who attempted to obtain the scales. And that was where the problem lay. Only she could help him get the scales.

The day was fairly cold for mid-October and Hermione was sitting a little ways away from the pitch. She had an obligation to watch her friends, seeing as both of them were on the Quidditch team. Neither Harry nor Ron understood Hermione's hesitancy around the Quidditch pitch; she read enough about it to be afraid for the lives of its players. At first it was just Harry; but as the games became more dangerous, she began to fear for the lives of them all. Now that Ron was playing as the team's new keeper, the fifth-year privately wondered how long it would take for one of them to be permanently injured in a game.

Hermione never understood how it was possible that people could get so immersed in a game. Why couldn't they focus on their studies as they should rather than play a game? After all, with the exception of one, they all had to focus on O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. Now was the time to secure their futures. Quidditch was not a part of that plan.

Once Angelina ended the practice, Hermione noticed something strange. In the last few weeks, Fred and George would disappear after practice ended. Today, Ron's older brothers stuck around. As she was waiting for Harry and Ron, Hermione could hear the identical boys discussing something. "…your only chance, George. She's right there. If we're going to fix the problem, this is the only chance we have. You know it and I know it."

"She won't do it," George argued.

"Try it," Fred insisted.

Hermione wondered what the twins were talking about. Chances were it had to do with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Ever since the summer, the twins had focused all of their energy on their little business. If that was the case, what were they up to now? Probably something irresponsible, she scoffed.

When Hermione looked up from her book, she saw that one of the twins – George, she supposed – come towards her. "Hey, Granger, I was wondering if you could help me with something."

"That depends on what it is," Hermione said.

"Fred and I were working on something to show Professor Flitwick for extra credit and we only just realized that there was an ingredient we couldn't get without help," the Weasley twin explained. "I was hoping that you might be willing to help us with that."

Chocolate brown eyes lit up. "Well, if it's for extra credit…"

"You'll help then?" George prompted.

"Yes, I'll help," Hermione decided.

"Excellent. We can do it now," he said.

"What do we need to do?"

As she tucked her book away in her overstuffed bag and slung it over her shoulder, Hermione saw George flash a thumbs-up in his twin's direction before turning towards her. "We'll be headed into the lake," George informed her. "It's the closest known location of the ingredient."

Hermione's bag dropped from her shoulder, its contents scattering on the ground. She bent down and began shoving the dropped items back in the bag. "Th-the lake?" she stammered. "Are you sure?"

"Very. Why? Are you scared?"

"Scared?" she huffed. "Of course not!" Lie. Ever since last year when she was chosen as the thing that Viktor missed the most – although how that could be assumed based on the fact that she and the Bulgarian spent time with each other in the library, him watching her study, and she accompanied him to the Yule Ball; was beyond her – Hermione avoided the lake. Though she was in an enchanted sleep from the moment she was called away from Harry's side until the moment she reached the surface, there was something about the lake that caused her to shy away. Perhaps it was the loneliness she felt while she was down there.

"You look scared. Don't worry, Granger," he said wrapping an arm around her. "It's just a quick trip down to the Mer-village. Shouldn't take us too long. You can be back up in the library in no time."

"The Mer-village?" Hermione queried. "What do you need from there?"

"Just a few mermaid scales," George replied.

Hermione glared at the Weasley twin who was so intent on leading her over to the lake, despite her wariness of the area since last February's events there. "And, pray tell, what are you and Fred doing that involves collecting mermaid scales?" The muggleborn witch recalled only a few enchantments that involved the use of mermaid scales. All of them sounded like something the twins would experiment with. I should have known, Hermione realized. They're trying to get me involved so they won't get in trouble with Umbridge. The prefect had to admit that it was a smart plan; however, they seemed to have forgotten one thing: Hermione was not all that thrilled about the boys' plan to do this.

"Can't say," George replied. "Trade secret and all."

"Then I'm not helping," Hermione pointed out. "You can get someone else to help you with this." She pulled out of George's reach. "And you are aware that different variations of the species will produce different results. The selkies from the lake might not give you the result you're looking for."

"We're aware," George replied.

"Good," she huffed, starting towards the school.

George caught her by the wrist. "You're the only one who can help us, by the way," he warned her. "I came to you for a reason. No one else in the school is capable of helping us."

"And I'd love to know why," Hermione said.

"You'll know in time," George muttered. "Just not yet."

Hermione came to a stop at the water's edge and stood there, just staring out at the water. Did she really want to do this? She had been able to avoid this place for the last eight months, not wanting to be reminded of the chilling feeling that came with being underwater. The fifth-year finally came to a decision; she had to do this. The longer she went without facing this, the more crippling the fear would become. Flying was an impossibility for her. She was not about to allow herself to do the same with water. She stripped herself of the light sweater she was wearing and felt the cool chill of the Scottish weather thrum against her skin.

By the time Hermione removed her heaviest layers of clothes, George was already standing in the water. "Hurry up, would you?" he called. "I'm in great need of these scales."

Hermione remained standing at the bank, chocolate brown blazing in anger. "I'm not the one who needs them," she reminded him. "I agreed to help. I can just as easily change my mind."

"No!" George yelled. "You're coming with me."

With that Hermione was pulled into the water. Before was completely submerged in the ice-cold lake, the brightest witch of her age cast the bubble-head charm on herself; George had not allowed her the opportunity to do before, so Hermione nearly went under unable to breath. She smacked George in the arm; the seventh-year merely looked back at her and shrugged.

As they went deeper and deeper into the lake, the water became foggier. Hermione could barely see her hand in front of her face. There was no doubt about it; this was far worse than last February. Unlike the second task of the tournament, she was conscious of what she was doing. Because she was unable to see what she was doing, Hermione could feel herself falling behind. She doubted that George would even notice what was happening.

Truthfully, Hermione was even more wary of what would happen when they reached the merpeople's village. As far as she knew Dumbledore was the only person in the school who spoke Mermish. How in the world was she supposed to help George obtain the scales when there was a very miniscule chance of properly communicating with them? As she was swimming, the muggleborn witch came to a realization; the one thing that magical education seemed to be lacking in was communication skills. How were they supposed to know the proper way to communicate with the magical creatures; goblins; merfolk; etc? It was as if the Ministry was trying to keep the Wizarding World ignorant of the other magical creatures in the world. Like History of Magic; it mostly spoke of goblin rebellions, as if that was the most important thing to occur throughout the history of magic.

As she was swimming, Hermione felt a hand clasp around her own. She squinted to find that George was giving her a small smile. With George holding onto her, the witch felt herself getting pulled across the water, almost like a torpedo. She tried to say something, but it only came out as bubbles.

It was some time before Hermione and George reached the Mer-Village. Hermione could see the large rock with merpeople painted on it; Harry once told her that it was that rock which acted as the entrance into the village. Hermione jabbed George in the ribs to make him aware of where they were. George rubbed his side in pain, but nodded at the sight of their destination.

George did not expect the swift jab in the side to come from Hermione as they entered the merfolk's domain. Then again, he supposed he was lucky. If Hermione knew that she could speak underwater during the course of the spell he cast on the both of them before setting foot in the water, of which she clearly didn't, Hermione was sure to be chatting his ear off about all that she knew regarding the merpeople. Not that George didn't already know that; he did. He and Fred made sure to know how to communicate with other creatures should the need ever arise that the boys needed potions ingredients for their products.

Making sure that Hermione was not lagging behind, George swam over to one of the stone dwellings and knocked on the door. When a pair of bright yellow eyes met him at the door, George nodded. "I must speak with Merchieftainess Murcus," he told the merperson.

"Swim to the center of the village," the merperson replied, pointing off in the direction of the village square. "You will find her there. Not sure why you would want to though."

"My reasons are my own," George replied.

The duo swam deeper into the village and George felt the cold wet skin of someone's arm connect with his already sore ribs. And there was Hermione. "How come I could understand what he said?" she asked. "How come you didn't tell me that I could speak while we were down here?"

"Because I did not need you asking questions," George answered.

"And what makes you think I would ask questions?"

"Because you're you," he huffed, turning back to look at the witch. It wasn't Hermione Granger unless she was trying to learn something during the venture. And that was precisely the problem. He really didn't need that right now. "Look, it's already hard enough for me to do this. I don't need to sit around answering your questions when I have my own turmoil to deal with." Especially when you're at the epicenter of that turmoil. "I can answer whatever questions you have, just give me some time to sort through this before I do."

"Fine," she huffed.

The pair came to the village square where a rather ferocious-looking female was tending to one of the younger merfolk. George let go of Hermione's hand for the moment and approached the woman. "Merchieftainess Murcus," George greeted the mermaid. "I come here in the hopes that you might permit me and my friend to return to the surface with several of your scales."

Murcus glared at him. "The rules are very clear…"

"I know the rules," George said dismissively.

"Then do as is required of you," she snarled.

"What is required of whom?" Hermione asked weakly.

George turned to face the muggleborn girl. Chances were he was going to get kneed for this. It was the reason he didn't want to do this in the first place. "Please don't react," he whispered.

"React to…"

Before she could finish her thought, George forced Hermione's Bubble-Head Charm to drop for a moment; he cupped her cheeks and pressed his lips to hers. It was a weird feeling kissing underwater; he could barely feel anything with the water numbing all feeling away from his body. He held the kiss for as long as feasibly possible. And, seeing as he had gills at the moment – thanks to a donation from Snape's stock of Gillyweed that he and Fred nicked from the man's private stores – that was a fairly long time. "That," he replied, breaking the kiss and allowing the witch's Bubble-Head Charm to reemerge.

Hermione looked dazed. "What was that?"

"A confession; something I should have done a long time ago. Give me a second and I'll explain." He turned to the merpeople's leader. "The scales," he prompted. "I believe we had a deal."

Once the scales were collected, George led Hermione to the edge of the mer-village. "Mermaid scales enhance illusions. Fred and I were working a daydream charm; however, it didn't quite last as long as we hoped it would. That's where the scales come in. We're hoping to increase the length of the daydream by using the scales," he explained.

"The kiss?" she prompted, stilling looking a little dazed.

"Ah, well…" George rubbed the back of his neck. This was the part he was nervous about. How would the perfect little know-it-all react to learning that a prankster was in love with her? For all he knew, she would laugh and reject his advances towards her. "The only way to obtain mermaid scales with the magic still imbued within them is to kiss the person you love in front of them. For Fred, that would have been Angelina. For me, that's you."

"Me?" she asked.

"Yes, you," he replied. "Is that so shocking?"

"A little," she admitted.

We both know what comes next, George thought darkly. He looked sadly at the witch in front of him. The truth was that he knew that Ron was in the same situation as him; in love with Hermione Granger. You'll reject me and I'll go on with my life while you disappear with my younger brother. What chance did he have against his younger brother, who was best friends with the witch? There was none. George had resigned himself to not getting the girl.

"The only way to obtain mermaid scales with the magic still imbued within them is to kiss the person you love in front of them. For Fred, that would have been Angelina. For me, that's you." As she watched George swim towards the surface, it was those words that keep repeating for the young witch. Love. George loved her. There was a time last year when she thought that no one would ever love her. After all, who would ever love someone who had their nose stuck in a book.

For a time, she thought that Ron liked her. But, after the Yule Ball fiasco, the youngest Weasley son proved that he was only willing to see her as a girl when it suited him. Viktor showed an interest in her as well. However, he was more brawn than brain. Someone like Lavender would be more up to his standards. But, George. Not only did he take an interest in her, but he was intelligent. Perhaps not the sort of intelligent man that she expected she might one day fall for, but he was brilliant nonetheless. How else would he and his brother create those pranks?

Hermione swam as fast as she possibly could, wanting to keep close to George. She needed to discuss this with him, his obvious feelings for her. George did not give her the chance to answer; he merely assumed that she would reject him. It took some time, but Hermione finally reached the surface and saw George hand the scales over to his twin. "Here," he scowled. "Here are the scales. Next time, do it yourself. Hermione won't do it again. I'm sure of it."

"Don't be so sure!" Hermione called.

George turned around. "What is it, Granger?"

"You didn't even let me respond," Hermione complained.

"Let's hear it then," George grumbled. "I already know."

"No you don't," she argued. Before he could say anything more, Hermione launched herself into his arms. George was knocked back into the water, having been caught off-guard. A snicker was heard from the bank; Fred was standing there laughing. "Shut it, Fred!"

"If you insist," Fred called over his shoulder.

George and Hermione remained snogging in the water, until a shrill voice was heard. "I heard noises," the Defense teacher called. "Come out and you will not be punished."

"Yeah, right," George scoffed.

It was only after Umbridge returned to the castle in which George and Hermione pulled themselves from the water. Hermione dried her clothes off before turning to the Weasley. "Don't try telling me what I want," she admonished. "You don't know what I want."

George stared at her in shock. "But, me?"

The witch adjusted her clothes so that no one would notice what happened in the span of the last hour. She wasn't sure that she wanted Harry, and especially Ron, to know about this just yet. George's twin was bad enough. It would probably be spread all over the school if Fred had his way. "Yes, you," Hermione replied. "Is that really so shocking?"

"I didn't think it would ever happen," George admitted.

"Why would you think that?" she prompted.

"Because we're so different," George said. "The only thing I've ever truly been serious about is the pranks I play with my twin. That's compared to you, whose sole focus has been your schoolwork. And, you hate the pranks that Fred and I play. What were the chances of me ever getting what I wanted?"

"I don't hate your pranks," Hermione told him.

"You don't?" he asked.

"No. What I hate is you and Fred testing them on unsuspecting first-years, really students altogether," Hermione pointed out. "Do you really want their first encounter with magic to be the effects of your products?"

"Better that than anything else," George pointed out.

"I suppose," Hermione conceded. She could think of a few uses of magic that no witch or wizard should ever be subjected to. Unfortunately, some students were dealing with the ramifications of dark magic.

George smirked. "You think it's brilliant though."

"Especially the idea of a daydream charm."

"I'll have to let Fred know," George said, kissing Hermione lightly as they headed back up to the castle. "Who would have thunk it; Hermione Granger actually thinking that our magic is brilliant?"