A Beginning Note: I had this desire to have George being infuriatingly cutesy with an invention and out came this. Also, Fred is miraculously among the living because I was a tad tired of writing him out. Lastly (SPOILER ALERT) I don't own Harry Potter.

Werewolf Woes

A silly GeorgexHermione story in which words are hard to find.

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A milk-curling howl echoed out from one of the precariously-balancing towers in the Weasley Burrow down to the group of people busily eating breakfast.

Harry simply continued eating, obviously uncaring to the danger as he held Ginny's hand; Ron jumped up and fumbled with his wand for a moment, tipping porridge down his jumper in the process; Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sighed as they recognized where the sound had radiated from; Hermione dropped her breakfast like Ron, but luckily it was but a piece of toast.

"That sounded like a werewolf," Ron said in dread, no doubt remembering third-year.

"Think Ron," Hermione said as she fetched her toast from her lap. "Werewolves come out at night. With a full moon. Right now it's the middle of morning."

"Oh, right," he said with a good-natured laugh as he sat back down. Mrs. Weasley tutted at him before waving her wand, getting rid of any oats.

"I agree that it did sound awfully like a werewolf," Ginny commented from aside Harry. "But it was from their room, so I'm sure it's nothing."

"It is not nothing," Mrs. Weasley huffed as she crossed her arms. "Honestly, why do they insist on me keeping their room here when they have their own flat they usually sleep at?"

"Oh, you love it, Molly," Mr. Weasley said from over the fringe of the paper.

The doting mother was silent to that before she stood with a start, asking if anyone needed more coffee. Hermione politely asked for more and Mrs. Weasley shuffled off with her cup. It seemed everyone had tucked back into eating, and Hermione wondered if she was the only one still confused at to what had almost shattered her hearing.

"May I have your unwavering attention everyone?"

Unlike from the howl, everyone had the same reaction of looking up. It was Fred standing with a slight grin on his still-boyish face with George, who looked equally energetic.

"That's more like it," Fred said with a wide grin as he turned to his twin. "Now, George and I have made another product."

Hermione rolled her eyes as Mrs. Weasley whispered, "Not another one."

"We're honestly quite proud of this one. I'm sure George would tell you the same if he could at the moment," Fred broke off to pat his identical's back. "We're calling them WereWOOFS. A simple, innocent looking hard candy that allows the sucker to sound just like a werewolf!"

His explanation of their new invention was met with silence at the table. Ron was beaming though, and Ginny and Harry's interests were obviously captured. Hermione felt heavy dread, like it fifth year again.

"Now come on Georgie," Fred said with an elbow in his double's ribs. "Give everyone here a nice howl like before."

George, whom Hermione now realized had been impatiently whining, opened his mouth and let out another piercing howl. It seemed to reverberate through everyone's bones, as everyone grabbed at something for support. When George stopped his animistic wail, he looked out at everyone with expectation.

"Oh George!" Mrs. Weasley said in emotion and worry. "It's bad enough that Bill likes his steaks bleeding!"

"Don't worry Mum, it'll wear off soon since the candy's gone," Fred said with a beaming grin. "But brilliant, don't you think?"

"How does it sound so authentic?" Harry asked in interest.

"Well, Lupin was a great chap when he was, well, alive and all," Fred said as he gave a glance to a nearby napping Teddy. "Didn't even say anything when we chopped off almost all his hair during that Christmas at Grimmauld. Must have chalked it up as Mum doing it or something."

Hermione slid her eyes from Fred, who began babbling about the trouble getting the taste of hair out in favor of peppermint, to George. He seemed to be sniffing at his hands in interest, and her eyes widened as she saw him hesitantly lick a few fingers.

"Anyway, you should pitch in now, mate," Fred said to George as he piled scrambled eggs to his plate.

George stopped sniffing at a sausage and looked up with a wide grin, but simply gave a small yip.

"Come off it, it must have worn off," Fred said with a roll of brown eyes.

Now George looked a little worried, as he grabbed at his throat and gave stress to trying to talk. But all that came out were snarls and growls, and soon he rounded on Fred. While before Fred had listened to George in glee, the redhead now looked remotely concerned.

"But we just finished perfected it! Just like you noted on the finished recipe for the 'werewolf essence' I put in seven drops-" Fred was cut off as George gave a bark of shock. George quickly held up an index finger.

"That wasn't a seven, but a one?" Fred asked. George whined and nodded. "Your handwriting is honestly horrid."

"What's gonna happen?" Ginny asked in amusement.

"I'm not so sure," Fred said as he rubbed the back of his head. "Apparently it's much more potent than necessary. Wonder when it'll wear off or if other habits will pop up... huh. Well, that's why we experiment on ourselves!"

George glared at him and bared his teeth uncharacteristically.

"Should I write to Bill?" Mr. Weasley asked. "He should be aware of what to expect."

"Don't bother him on his anniversary get-away just because of them, dear," Mrs. Weasley said with a grin.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Ron asked with a badly concealed laugh; "I'm sure Percy will as well."

"Well, maybe we should bring him to St. Mungo's?" Harry ventured.

"Oh please, this will wear off eventually if it's a charm that's ingested," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. "No need to bother those already overworked healers."

"Well, maybe we should get a babysitter for him?" Fred asked out. "Or should I say puppysitter?

"Because you aren't with him all the time," Ginny snorted in affection.

"Well, actually, me and Angelina..." Fred drifted off, hoping not to have to explain himself. As everyone blinked in waiting, he sighed. "Well, I got her and me some Quidditch tickets up in France and we were going to go on a trip."

"The full-moon is in four days," Mr. Weasley said in reminder.

There was a deep silence around the table, and Hermione felt herself huff in annoyance again. "Come off it everyone," she said as she crossed her arms, "George is not going to transform from something concocted out of a werewolf's hair."

"How can you be so sure?" Fred asked with a raised eyebrow. "I always took you as one of the 'better safe than sorry' types."

George suddenly pointed at Hermione, jumping up and down in his seat.

"Her?" Fred asked out in shock.

"What about me?" Hermione also questioned George, eyeing him warily.

He gave out an impatient whine and could only continue gesturing to her.

"You don't- you want her to look after you with the shop?" Fred asked, biting back laughter to speak.

George gave another great howl, and Mrs. Weasley slapped him upside the head and told him to stop that. He hunched his shoulders and looked out pleadingly at Hermione, but she had made up her mind about his situation and turned away.

"Well, it makes sense," Harry said. "You know everything about everything, werewolves included, and you've already dealt with Professor Lupin. You howled so well he thought you were one of his own. Me being alive proves it."

Hermione was shocked at this sudden turn of events, so she turned back to George and said: "You cannot seriously want me to watch over you. You do realize I have a job? That unlike you two I have a set hour schedule?"

"Oh, the Ministry can survive without you for a day," Ron said with a dismissive wave of a hand.

"Or a few," Fred quipped.

At all the hopeful looks at her, Hermione squirmed in her seat. "Well, I did have a dog growing up," she offered.

"What's a 'dog?'" Ron asked, and Harry and Hermione shared a look through the confused Weasleys.

"It's a domesticated wolf-" Harry began, but was cut off by Ginny who exclamation of "Then it's decided!"

The young redhead stood and leaned over to pat Hermione on her head. "Take care of my idiot brother, will you? Don't let him burst into a ball of fur or anything?" she said before pulling Harry away.

"You're practically like Charlie and his dragons," Ron said in awe. "To have a wolf in your house only as a kid!"

"It was a dog, not a wolf," Hermione floundered to say.

But it seemed the situation was settled, as George bounded out of his chair and over to her side, where he proceeded to lick her cheek. Hermione winced and pushed him away when he leaned in for a second go. She looked at George's smiling face, tongue lolling out, and felt a growl of her own slip out.

.

Hermione had tried, for once in her life, to struggle out of responsibility. She said that Ron could do the shop, but he gave her a laugh and said he was busy getting the Hogsmeade shop ready for the new Hogwarts school year. Percy seemed even more unwilling than her (but also happy about George not being able to really talk like Mrs. Weasley) and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were both already busy. Even the twins' best friend Lee was going to be in France for the Quidditch tournament as well.

So, with a heavy voice, Hermione flooed the Ministry later that day to alert them she would be taking Monday off. They didn't question her, but maybe that was because George was barking up a storm in the background at a gnome that had wandered too close to the house.

Fred was undaunted by Hermione, the person who had tried to hinder this entrepreneur venture not even five years ago, would now be the main manager of the shop. He gave her a walk-around before opening on Monday, George trailing behind and sniffing her hair the entire time.

When they had opened the shop, Hermione was surprised to find herself nervous. She had never really had to deal with large throngs of people, to be charismatic to the degree of selling items. She had been so sure of herself (to the point of shaking others away) until she had found solace in Harry and Ron.

She was surprised to get the degree of help from George that she did. He couldn't talk in any way really, but the way he trailed her, pointed at the right products or entertained the kids with growls and yelps made Hermione laugh along. It wasn't nearly as hard as it would be with him right there at her side. She kept forgetting it was his fault she was here in the first place.

"You're really good at this if you can make me so social," Hermione laughed.

In response George rubbed his nose against hers in an oddly tender moment. But then he was attempting to lick her again, and she pushed him off with renewed laughter.

Soon the first day was finished. Hermione closed the jingling door with a sigh of accomplishment before turning back around, hands on her hips. George gave her a thumbs-up and Hermione's grin turned into a beaming smile.

Tuesday passed in a similar fashion, and when Wednesday came and passed as well Hermione remembered what she was doing.

"Shouldn't you have gotten better?" she asked in the best nonchalant voice she could muster.

They were both in the back room, taking down merchandise to stalk the shelves for the next day of giggling customers. George was using plain strength to hoist the boxes down rather than magic. Hermione had an inkling that it was to help keep his body in shape for Quidditch; he had to keep his shoulders broad in the shop somehow. With Ginny now off playing professional Quidditch, Hermione knew Fred and George would rather be cursed to death than show weakness to their younger sister.

At her question that broke their silence, George turned to face her. His eyebrows were high, and he looked confused.

"It's been three days now. Three and a half if you count Sunday," Hermione said as she tucked a lock of hair behind an ear. "The candy really should have worn off by now."

George lifted his wand and flicked it, and Hermione watched as a sentence appeared. 'Worried about your job?' floated in a neon yellow between them before evaporating.

She shook her head. "I'm just a little worried about you," she said to explain herself.

George gaped at her, and Hermione rolled her eyes. "You've grown on me a little these past days."

George let out a barking laugh. Hermione grinned, used to the odd laughter that made customers cringe a little.

'No need to worry my dear Hermione' he spelled into the air when he had regained his breath.

"If you say so," Hermione said with narrowed eyes. "Although the full moon is tonight. I guess your father really was worried about nothing."

George shrugged lightly.

"Or worried about the wrong thing," Hermione muttered moments later as he began yapping at one of the Muggle trick hats that had let a rabbit out.

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Hermione felt seriously awful about opting out of her Ministry job for the fifth day in a row now. They seemed a little ticked off to her situation, as news about one of the Weasley twins being a werewolf seemed to have spread. Hermione herself had to shoo out some officials looking for George to classify him as a werewolf. Through her insistence and power they had finally walked off. Of course George was elated at the situation; he even wrote a letter to Fred about it.

Yet the Ministry was doing just fine; no coupe yet to happen in her absence. Hermione had to admit that Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes needed her more, as one of their owners was still off watching people fly around on brooms as the other could only yap and slobber on things.

She had almost marched out of the shop last night, telling him she was through babysitting him (as the full-moon was past and that this really was all his fault and she shouldn't suffer consequences for it), but then George had hit her with puppy-dog eyes. Hermione dearly hoped it was a side affect of the candy; it was a deadly weapon if it was just natural talent.

So here she was now, watching kids and adults alike ogle at the inventions all around for another day. She had to admit, this place was clearly more cheerful than the Ministry. They could really use some of the amusing hijinks this place offered-

Hermione shook her head violently to rid herself of such thoughts. It must be her working at the store; it had begun to infiltrate her rational.

Brown eyes meandered from the customers to one of the owners, who was deep in a one-sided conversation with a little girl. He kept yapping away (literally) while the girl could only giggle and look confused. George looked like he was beginning to get frustrated, as did the girl's mother, so Hermione slipped out from behind the counter.

Hermione was a little shocked to find herself wishing George could actually talk this past week. While his actions and behaviors were still very entertaining, it was still lacking without his witty remarks. Now Hermione was the one forced to make jokes. It was something she had gotten better at though the years, but was still a novice at compared to him. Sometimes customers just stared blankly while she nervously smiled. George was the only one laughing at those situations, although it was more at her than the attempted humor.

If he could talk Hermione was sure he would be even more charming to the customers than he already was. Although, that smile he brought out to the older girls who came was profitable enough.

"May I help?" Hermione interjected, pushing a whining George out of the way.

"I'm looking for a gift," the little girl said shyly.

Hermione grinned as she crouched down to her level. "For who?" she asked kindly.

The girl looked down and rubbed the tip of a shoe into the ground. Hermione remembered that flustered look.

"For a boy?" she asked.

The girl looked up, her mouth wide in shock. George looked a little shocked as well, although in a proud, ruffled sort of way.

"Yes," the young child finally answered. Her mother above turned aside to hide a chuckle.

"We just got in a great, new line of love chocolate," Hermione said with raised eyebrows. "They're really tasty. Plus, everyone loves chocolate."

Grinning cheerily, the girl bobbed her head in a clear yes. Hermione stood back up and took the girl's hand, bringing her over to the sickeningly-pink product line.

"There's assorted boxes, candy bars," she began listing off as she pointed to all the different sweets.

The girl looked positively ecstatic, and Hermione felt a jab of guilt. Sure the boy would be infatuated with her, but it wasn't true love. Yet she did look about seven, where love was out of their minds. She probably just wanted a little attention from the boy, and these chocolates would surely do that trick.

"Are they good?" the kid asked.

"Oh, fantastic!" Hermione said in glee as she popped open a box. She realized just then that she never had one herself (for obvious reasons). But now she thought, if no one had bought it yet, there would be no one to fall in love with. "I think I'll have one now," she said to herself delightedly.

She only saw the horrified look on George's face after she had swallowed.

Hermione blinked as her body felt suddenly light, her head fuzzy and chest warm. Then, all thought seemed to stop except for one person's name. A person who was redheaded and a spatter over an extremely handsome face. Who could make inventions with creativity to spare for the rest of the wizarding world. He was a fantastic beater; the only thing he cracked harder at than those wild bludgers being jokes.

"Fred Weasley," she said dreamily. She ran over to George, completely forgetting about the baffled and amused kid and mother. "Call him back. I must see him!"

By now she was shaking George by his magenta robes, his head lolling back and forth from her force.

"FRED I MUST SEE YOU! TO SHOUT MY UNDYING LOVE TO YOUR PERFECTLY CHISELED SELF!"

George let out a howl, and Verity came running at the call.

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Hermione rubbed her head, her cheeks flaming red.

George and Verity had somehow subdued her up to the small flat above where the twins lived. George had kept her there with halfhearted snarls before Verity had come running back with the antidote. Even after Hermione had her head back on, she still felt humiliated. George, in an oddly sympathetic way, ordered Verity to close shop because they were taking the rest of the day off.

"I don't understand how it happened," Hermione said groggily. "I thought you fell in love with the person who purchased it. And since it wasn't purchased yet, there was no one to be infatuated with."

George gave a rumbling chuckle before spelling out: 'If it hasn't been bought it falls to the person who made the love potion. Obviously you got one Fred made.'

"I've never been so humiliated in my life," Hermione said in gloom.

'Good thing I got Verity to take pictures' George wrote out, this time in neon pink.

"You did not!" Hermione said, gaping at him.

'Maybe' he answered slowly.

"That'll be a great welcome back present for him. Saying how I suddenly fell in love with him for no reason other than a bit of chocolate," Hermione said with a frown.

'It seemed the fifty-fifty chance didn't work out for you' George said with a wide grin.

Hermione lifted an eyebrow. "Really now? It would have been better if I'd gotten one you made?"

'Clearly,' he wrote back cheekily.

While his writing drifted away, Hermione could only stare at where it had been. Finally she lifted her head to look at George, only to find him inches away from herself. Before she had time to either yelp or kick him away in shock, she caught sight of his grin before he nuzzled his face against her neck.

This had happened a few times before, in the shop no less with customers looking and giggling, but right now it was the most embarrassing time for Hermione. While before he had done it roughly and playfully, like nudging his owner to throw the ball, this was soft and controlled. The stubble on his face tickled, and Hermione couldn't help but laugh. As he kept rubbing against her, Hermione reminded herself for the uncountable time that this was just the candy's side effect. He couldn't stop himself; it had become second nature.

When he lightly kissed her skin in a very human way, however, Hermione realized something definitely was going on.

George had maneuvered himself to sit alongside her on the couch, and Hermione felt the cushions behind her back as he pressed further against her with more light kisses against her neck. Hermione crushed the swelling feeling of disappointment as he stopped his barrage and turned to her hair. He ran both of his hands through it, his brown eyes lighting up, before he ducked down again and inhaled deeply.

"You're seriously turning more wolf like," Hermione said, to try and distract herself. She supposed she should really take him to the hospital now. She should have done it days ago, but had been greedy in wanting to stay. She liked it here, even if George still couldn't talk and had grown the new habits of sniffing and licking her.

He was silent, not even giving a whimper or writing anything in the air. George just kept his head down in her hair.

"Come on, answer me," Hermione said weakly as his lips brushed an ear.

It seemed smelling her hair could only distract him for so long, because he was back to touching her neck and cheeks, now now only with his own face but with his hands. Hermione shivered as he licked her skin from the base of her neck to the shell of her ear. She really should push him away and stop allowing him to divulge without bounds.

All resolve flew off, however, when he yanked away her collar and began sucking on her collar bone. His lips and tongue were hot, and Hermione let out an involuntary moan. This made him even more animalistic, as he moved her to lie down, his taller frame hovering over hers before he started up again, this time on her other collar bone. He was also working on the buttons to her shirt, as soon he moved his lips to give open-mouthed kisses on her stomach. Hermione laughed at the ticklish sensation, and he gave a deep rumble as well.

George came back up and resumed kissing her neck, and Hermione wondered when he was going to finally kiss her lips. But that was a very human activity to do, so maybe that was being blocked-

"Hermione."

Hermione blinked and wondered if she had correctly heard him say her name as he sniffed her hair. She stiffened and tried to push him off, but he moved his hands to hold her tightly at her hips. His touch made her arch in shock, but also in further weakness. Soon she had forgotten why she tried to push him away as he rubbed circles against her skin and began kissing the dip in her stomach.

"Hermione," he panted again.

"Alright, that was definitely human!" she said before she could second guess herself. This time when she pushed against his chest, he finally leaned up and off of her.

He looked down at her and gave a high whine.

"You just spoke. I heard it."

George shook his fiery head.

"George," Hermione said with a threatening look as she crossed her arms. It wasn't a very good decision, as it caused her to create more cleavage that her shirt was now wide open to demonstrate. George's eyes seemed transfixed on her chest because of it, and Hermione cleared her throat meaningfully.

He stared back up at her face with a look of pure innocence and ignorance, but she was not giving in. She had heard him breath her name.

Finally his shoulders dropped.

"Why did I have to ruin it?" he groaned as he flipped off of her. He sat there, rubbing his hands roughly over his face.

"You can talk!" Hermione said in pure awe.

"Yeah," he agreed miserably.

"But- why did you-?" she tried to phrase, but found words hard to say. Why would he fake speaking werewolf? It had only been a hassle for everyone, George himself the most.

"Why not?" he said with a grin. "This got you to stay at the shop when you would've been too busy to give me the time."

Hermione gasped as his plans came in to view. "You've been faking this entire time?" she asked in slight disbelief.

"Have not!" George huffed; "I've been sucking these things non-stop! Why do you think I breath peppermint wherever I turn? The one in my mouth now...well, it fell out."

At that, Hermione gasped as she felt something tucked in her bra. She pulled the stick candy out from the frill of lace and gave him a flat look. George gave a sheepish smile that she slapped his arm for.

"So you did this to get me closer?" she asked tentatively as she looked at the half-sucked candy between her finger tips.

"Don't make me spell it out. You've done a good enough job reading me this week," he said as he ran a hand through his hair. Hermione winced as he pulled on it, as if to punish himself.

"You could've just asked," she said stubbornly.

George eyed her warily, and Hermione gave him a wide smile. He finally sat up straight then, and that trademark spark in his brown eyes lite up.

"Want to go out on a date?"

Hermione face dropped in a frown and George was quick to understand it. His own face fell in heartbreaking disappointment.

"I was hoping you were going to ask to kiss me," Hermione said.

His downtrodden face became alight before he gave a yell of celebration and fist-pumped the air. Hermione watched the display with laughter, but it was cut short by his lips on hers.

Hermione conceded, as they lied her back down in a tangle of limbs and touching, that his attentions before were adorable but couldn't hold up to his lips moving against hers.

.

Hermione giggled as she lied beside George on the blanket in the sun. George had been insistent about bringing her out on a date the next day, and she was mildly shocked when he took her to the Burrow. There he had a picnic brunch ready on a nearby hill. Hermione admired the simplicity of it all, but also of the care he took to pick the spot (even though all he seemed to want to look at was her).

They had just finished their lunch and he was threading his hand through her hair, trying to find tangles but mostly just lifting it to sniff.

"So your habits aren't werewolf like, they're just you?" Hermione chuckled as she flipped on her side to face him.

"You'll just have to find out," he said as he wrapped his hands around her waist and squeezed her tightly against his own frame.

It was hard for Hermione to tell if she was blushing because of the early-afternoon sunlight or because of his warm body pressed flush against hers. She wrapped her own arms around him and gave a good squeeze back, making a laugh come out of George.

It seemed Hermione had jinxed the situation, thinking it was the best first-date she had yet to have, when George cracked an eye open and looked over her shoulder. His face paled, making his freckles stick out even more in the bright sunlight. With a little dread Hermione twisted around to find what he was looking at.

"Is that Bill?" Hermione asked as she squinted. There was definitely a tall, redheaded man coming ever closer and it looked like he had long hair tied back.

She had guessed right, as the eldest Weasley son finished stalking across the grass over to them. He stopped in front of them and crossed his arms over his chest before speaking.

"First, congratulations," he said with a nod the couple returned. "Nice to know Hermione is back in the family. Secondly-"

He glared down at George, who tried to hide behind an amused Hermione.

"-Mom sent me a Howler about your situation. Do you know when it finally arrived? At what specific time at night that little owl announced its entrance?"

"Do we want to know?" George ventured out to ask.

"Regardless, Fleur was so worried she demanded we come back and so here I am. A week short of vacation and with a brother faking an illness to get the girl," Bill said dryly.

"Rough luck, mate!"

"Not as bad as yours," Bill said with a glower.

"Now, now, I'm your adorable younger brother-"

"You're twenty five. And that position is reserved for Ron," Bill said as he lunged forward and grabbed George by his hair.

Hermione wondered if she should help, but found she was too busy laughing as she watched Bill drag a kicking George away. Probably back to their Mum, where she would yell his remaining ear off from his clear irresponsibility.

An Ending Note: There we are! Thanks for making it to the end and hope it made you at least smile :)