Chapter Five

Questions, questions and no real answers

Hermione paced the streets of Diagon Alley, barely aware of where she was and often knocking into people, although she didn't notice. All she could do was attempt to digest what had happened to her. She remembered Ron and his funny coloured skin, walking to the Weasley's shop, browsing the shelves… Then it all became somewhat dreamlike. Her whole body seemed to blush scarlet as she relived her memories. They were as clear as day – it wasn't as if she had completely blacked out. She hadn't even lost control of her actions. It was more like her caution, or her conscience, had been temporarily stifled. And her feeling of desire had been so strong; she had acted entirely out of character.

But she felt dirty, and all wrong. As soon as her senses had returned, she had been overwhelmed by feelings of embarrassment and confusion. She knew with a passion that the actions she had taken were not entirely of her own doing. For now she ignored the little voice inside that questioned whether they were actions she really had wanted to take, but would always have been too scared to.

And George. What about George? She had vented her anger at him as viciously as she knew how. But would he really have bewitched her, or even used the muggle trick of drugging her? The number of times she had been maddened by the twin's carefree use of tricks; always scared underneath her anger that they might one day cross that line to do something that just wasn't right. But they never had, and she had been sure recently that they knew right from wrong. The Weasley's were good people.

But for now she could find no other conclusion to draw from the awful mess.

Eventually she made it back to her room, and was initially surprised to see a pink and blue-spotted Ron sat on her bed. Something inside her even registered that her makeup bag looked disrupted and that Ron's eyelashes looked suspiciously long. But she was too exhausted to even consider the humour of this, for the moment.

Ron, his blush well hidden, jumped to his feet and looked at Hermione expectantly, desperation still in his eyes. Hermione stared back blankly, her eyes vacant. She was only just remembering what the point of her trip to the Weasley's had been.

'Are Fred and George coming?' he asked pleadingly, 'Or did they show you what to do?'

She remained silent trying to keep a hold of her thoughts that were darting around her mind at an obscene speed.

'Why are you looking at me like that?' he asked, the desperation a more urgent note in his voice now, 'There is a cure isn't there? It's not permenant? I…I'm not going to look this way forever am I? Because I'll never get a girlfriend…and…and they'll never let me be an auror. And everywhere I go people will laugh and point and…'

Something in Hermione snapped, the stress of the day becoming just too much.

She screamed, releasing all her tension, and then turned her anger on Ron, shouting at him to leave her alone.

He froze for a moment, mouth wide open, gawping at her in shock. She managed to take pity on him for a moment, quickly making something up.

'It's only a temporary charm. It'll wear off in a couple of days,' she said.

But when he still didn't move, she added 'Now get the bloody hell out of here!' in her scariest tone.

He scarpered, leaving Hermione to collapse onto her bed.

But when she closed her eyes, all she could see was George's face as she ran out the shop. It had been a mirror of her own confusion and hurt.

George was so shocked he stood stock still for a good half an hour, just staring at the place Hermione had been. His mind was whirring, but all it could come up with was nonsense. One minute he had been very much enjoying the company of a girl he found more than a little attractive. The next minute she was yelling at him, and hurling the strangest accusations. The imperius curse? Bloody hell. Surely she knew that was something he would never ever even consider. Especially to make a girl do…well the things she had been doing with him. Bloody Hermione. Bloody girls in general.

But this front of humour did little to dispel the real pain inside. The memory of her saying that she loved him. The intensity of his own feelings, he had been about to announce. It did little to prevent the shameful tears welling behind his eyes.

'Closed? What are we closed for? Why are you looking like that? Did you poke yourself in the eye with a quill again? What have I told you about being careful?'

Fred's demeanour was just as bright and good humoured as it had been an hour or so ago. When his twin did not react, another possibility dawned on him.

'You didn't eat a bean did you? Not a purple one?' he said, with obvious panic, but more than a little curiosity, 'I was wondering how brain dead stupidity would turn out! Admittedly I didn't realise it could make someone look quite so empty headed…'

Suddenly George snapped to attention, his sharp eyes alert and concentrated on his brother.

'Fred? That bowl of beans you left behind…'

'I keep telling you their not just beans, haven't you figured it out yet?'

'…are there any missing?' George continued, ignoring the interruption.

'Well if you ate one I would have to say yes. Crikey, I hope they don't leave permenant damage. You are being very slow…'

'I haven't taken one! Just check will you, are there any missing?' he yelled, pieces slowly falling into place in his mind.

'Well let me have a look. Ah, the purple is still there, pity, and the blue, green, yellow, black – can't wait to see that one in action – erm…red? The red isn't there?'

And in that moment everything made sense to George. He'd known his brother had been taking an interest in mood affecting magic a while back, but he had not realised he could ever achieve it.

'So she must have taken it. Oh God, you'd think she would know better than to eat something from this shop. I should have known. Why would she ever even be interested in me, let alone love me…' he began to monologue to nobody in particular.

'Hang on a second George, love did you say? Who are we talking about here?' Fred tried to interrupt.

But George, oblivious to all else now, carried on regardless.

'She must think I did it on purpose. Of course she does. And there was me thinking someone could actually fall in love with me. It was all just manufactured feelings…'

'Now hang on just one second!' Fred said, accompanying his comment with a slap to George's face, 'Are you trying to say somebody, somebody I am presuming to be of the fairer sex, ate that red bean and declared their undying love for you?'

'Something like that,' George muttered, rubbing his stinging face.

'Because you know me George. You know us. We don't muddle in that love potion malarkey – nothing good can come from messing with that particular emotion!'

'Well what exactly does a bloody red bean do then?' George snapped back.

'I was coming to that!Now, I'm only guessing here, but if my calculations are correct this girl would have blacked out, come round after, oh, I don't know, a few minutes, and…well tried to jump your bones!'

From the look on George's face, he knew he was right, and continued.

'It's lust you see! The red is lust! So she tries to jump you and, you being you, well, you just go along with it and…'

'Well so what!' George retaliated, 'Love or Lust? What bloody difference does it make to me?'

'Now, now, my dear brother, you of all people should know there's a very big difference! If this girl told you she loved you I can promise you she must have meant it, regardless of the bean!'

The silence was profound.

A/N: Right so after way more than a year, many lovely reviews, and the odd death threat, she finally updates. I know I have been appallingly mean… I wouldn't blame you all if you chose to boycott my story.

All I can say in apology is that I had a total block. I just didn't know where I wanted to take the story. And I subsequently lost a little interest in fanfiction. Only to return and see so many lovely reviews! My inspiration is back, and I am determined to complete this story!

So review away and you will be rewarded…

Shell xx