I own no part of the HP franchise, all rights to JK and co and no profit is made here.

AN: I've been on a Weasley Twins kick recently, reading fics, finding wallpapers, enjoying the Phelps twins...and as a result I was inspired to try my hand at some twin fics of my own. This one is the start of a George/Hermione and set when they're well into their adult years. It may contain a twist, some OOCness and is definitely a graduate of Alternate U. If you like it well enough or are curious, let me know and I'll see about whipping up some more for you!

"Ugh! No! Absolutely not, Ginny Potter! Get the hell out of my office, now, you good for nothing, scheming, plotting…Harpy!"

Ginny stood back from Hermione's desk and laughed herself silly. "Harpy? Really? That's the best you can do?" she asked, pointing and laughing at her best friend minus Harry.

Hermione screwed her mouth up and glared for all she was worth. Ginny laughed harder. Hermione threw her hands up in frustration and sat down so hard her chair rolled back several inches.

"Ginny, honestly, just…can't you please just go?"

"No," Ginny replied, calming down and leaning on the desk again. She glanced back at Hermione as she stole a few gumdrops from the dish on the desk and began popping them in her mouth. "But would it really be so bad?"

"It's very easy for you to talk about it all, Ginny, you're married already and your husband doesn't show any signs of keeling over! Do you know how hard it was for me to come to terms with it the first time round? I mean, really? It's not like I had a bleeding choice – you wanted to get married! Besides which, it isn't as if I'm great odds, am I?"

Ginny sighed. "Hermione, Ron was not your fault. Draco was certainly not your fault. There's no curse on you, you're a perfectly desirable woman – even with two Malfoys clinging to your hips," she snorted. Hermione glared again and snatched the candy dish away from her.

"They may be Malfoys, but you know perfectly well that my children don't take after their father's family."

"Hermione, that's not what I meant. I was only joking. Come on, Hermione? Please, don't be upset."

"And why not? You come barging in here with an invitation to The Burrow after months of ignoring me…you're an idiot if you think I don't know exactly why you're here."

"I only came because I thought you might like to get out a bit. It's been two years, Hermione, never mind that we miss you since, oh, you're the one who's been avoiding us. And if I just happen to have invited some of my teammates and their very eligible brothers and cousins, well. It's not my fault I'm so likable and my mother's cooking is the best."

"You haven't invited anyone aside from myself, Ginny Potter and you know it."

"Hermione, you've got to get this notion that we're all against you out of your head."

"And you have to get the notion that just because Angelina broke her contract with George in order to elope with Fred means he's ripe for the picking out of your head!"

"Oh, come on, Hermione! Like I'd do that to George! He's really hurting right now. Do you know, when his contract finally came up for binding over a dozen witches turned him down once they realized he was the twin with the missing ear? Yeah, turned out they all wanted Fred, can you believe it? They wanted a whole wizard or none at all, never mind that he's rich and funny and cleverer than half of they were, put together. Not to mention the whole war hero thing. Oo, it made me sick, seeing them do that to him. His confidence is so low that Bill has to absolutely threaten him to come away from the flat even for drinks."

Hermione highly doubted his confidence was that low considering the force he'd become in business and charities, but she kept from pointing it out in order to continue her argument.

"My point exactly!" she retorted. "Knowing all that, why in hell would you think for one second to try and set him up with me?"

"Augh!" Ginny exclaimed, tugging at her hair. "Hermione Malfoy, you are impossible!"

"Granger-Malfoy," Hermione corrected her.

Ginny swore and went on with her tirade. "Bloody…impossible! I already told you, I want you to come to Sunday dinner because you need to get out and your children need socializing and if I happen to know some nice, single wizards who will be there, then just ignore the fact that they're single and at least have a few good conversations and laughs. Is that so much to ask? Hermione, we miss you. I miss you. It would be really nice to have someone – a woman – to talk to who wants to discuss anything but Quidditch because as much as I love my job, the conversation is mind numbing at times. Alright?"

Hermione eyed Ginny suspiciously a moment more, then pressed her lips together.

"You swear this isn't about George."

"I swear."

"And if I don't give away my number to any blokes you won't be disappointed."

"I won't. Does this mean you'll come?"

"And you'll respect my choice to remain single."

"I will – does this mean you'll come?"

Hermione sighed and finally nodded. "I'll come."

Ginny squealed and leaned across the desk to throw her arms about Hermione's shoulders. Then she was up and bouncing out the door. "Two o'clock, sharp," she called over her shoulder. "Bring a green, if you want to, but you know Mum – plenty of food."

Hermione lifted hand in return, then smacked said hand to her forehead. What had she just agreed to? She was an idiot. She had to be an idiot – well, to be fair, she supposed losing some IQ points upon marrying a Malfoy was to be expected. But at least she had her little angels out of the bargain. Granted, neither had flaming red-hair like she'd once dreamed her children would have, but it was enough to know they were there, and they were all hers.

The last ten years of Hermione's life had not gone at all the way she'd expected. Well, she had a job at the Ministry, but that was about the only thing that did match up. Everything else was wonky – in a good way, now, but at the time it had gone wonky, hoo boy, had she been utterly caught off guard. First there had been Ron's death in the final battle – caught in the crossfire of Bellatrix's wand as he'd attempted to avenge Hermione's torture first and save his brother second. He'd certainly saved Fred's life, but he'd lost his own in the process and a little part of Hermione's heart would always be chipped from where she'd had to mend it. It had taken her years to get over his death and Ginny and Harry had truly helped her through that difficult time…but while she'd been grieving, the Ministry had been plotting within its uppermost levels.

The result of their plotting was to pass a series of laws that made life as a single witch or wizard extremely difficult. The taxes imposed, the curfews, the fines for something as innocent as a night out with friends…it was monstrous and had all been designed with marriage in mind. A great many witches and wizards had given into the pressure to marry and produce heirs – as the taxes for couples without children were obscenely high compared to those who had them. Hermione had fought valiantly against the Ministry for as long as she could, but finally, with her own job at stake and her upward mobility permanently frozen, she'd been forced to release her name to the matchmakers. And who had they come up with but Draco freaking Malfoy. He'd turned out to like the idea marginally more than she had, but although their eventual union had been relatively calm and his courtship of her surprisingly sweet – though he never really lost that swotty little smirk – it wasn't until her first child was born that she settled into the idea for good. After that, things had grown almost…normal. She even thought she might have loved him as much as she had Ron and when their second child was born he'd looked at her so fondly, so proudly, like she was something he'd never known he wanted…

Then, the accident.

It had changed her life forever, had left her a widow, had left her searching for something she'd thought she already had. The nights when she woke up feeling the bed for Draco, the days she walked in the door of their home and expected to see him stroll out of the kitchen, the weeks that went by when she missed him so much she thought she would tear herself to pieces with the grief. It was worse than Ron. It was so much worse, because this time she'd tasted life. She'd felt a man move in her arms, had given birth to his children, had agonized over what to buy him for their anniversary. And now, just two years later, she was feeling better. She could function, she could smile and laugh when she was supposed to, she could hold her children without wanting to weep.

She never wanted to feel that sort of grief again. Twice was enough. Twice was too much. And Ginny wanted her to meet someone. Ginny and the other Weasleys no doubt thought she ought to have someone, that her children would need a father. Well bugger that. That was exactly why she'd spent the better part of a year ignoring Ginny as much as possible, because of her and her family's interference. She didn't want someone else. She didn't want more pain and that's what relationships led to. Nothing but pain. She was tired of losing people – she was terrified enough for her children from day to day. She didn't need to feel that way over some man ever again.

With a decided hrumph, Hermione turned back to the work on her desk and began going through it at a maddening speed. She had reports left to finish, children to pick up from their grandmum's, and dinner to prepare. She didn't have any more time left for moping or worrying over Ginny Potter and her batty family. Sunday dinner at The Burrow after months of peace. Merlin. She'd gone mental, finally.

Well, Hermione thought as she picked up another thick file, at least she swore it's not about George.

It was totally about George.

Ginny had lied, as she'd had to ever since Hermione had grown a hole in her heart previously occupied by a living, breathing Draco. Bugger that Malfoy, she thought. Er...rest his soul, I mean. She flicked her hair over her shoulder and shoved Draco's corpse from her mind. Now was not the time to be thinking of Hermione's pain. Now was the time to threaten her brother into doing what she wanted so that eventually neither of them would be in pain.

Ginny was at George's flat just after leaving Hermione's office and was leaning against the kitchen table while George rifled about in the icebox for something stronger than tea. He was currently trying to ignore her, but she could tell by the tense set of his shoulders that everything she was saying was getting through to him.

"You do realize I know you can hear me."

He exited the freezer holding a bottle of vodka aloft.

"It's not too early for Bloody Merlins, is it?" he questioned and Ginny wrinkled her nose.

"George, that's a girly drink."

"It is not," he replied, huffing. "And let me remind you that even if it is, it's my ear that's missing, not my –"

"Too much," Ginny said. "Too much. Now listen to me, George. Are you coming to dinner or not?"

"I was, until I heard an annoying rumor you'd invited Hermione."

"What?"

"I was already coming for Mum's sake – missed enough recently, haven't I? Bill made that damn clear last night," George added, rubbing his neck and wincing. Ginny's face softened and she started to speak, but George's eyes shot to hers and narrowed dangerously. "So imagine my surprise when I Owled to assure her I was coming and I get back a lovely reply explaining that she was so pleased as ickle Hermione and her Malfoy sprogs will be there as well and 'it will be so lovely to have the whole family together again.'"

"Well? So what?" Ginny said. "You like Hermione."

"I like a great many people, sister mine, but that doesn't mean I expect to see them magically agree to come to family dinner again just weeks after the Prophet has broken the story about my sainted twin and his elopement – and especially not ones that are still sodding about, moping for a bloody Malfoy."

Ginny frowned hard and shoved off from the counter to stalk over to George. She yanked the bottle from his hands and smashed it over into the sink. George looked at her wide eyed for a split second before he dashed to the counter and stared down into the sink, watching all the lovely, high-end vodka drain away. He forced himself to take several deep breaths.

"Alright, I reckon I deserved that," he mumbled a moment later. Ginny squeezed her eyes shut and reined in her anger.

"You did," she said. "Hermione may have been avoiding us and yes, she's still grieving in a lot of ways, but she and Malfoy genuinely cared for one another. Can you imagine, George? Can you even begin to imagine? First Ron, then Malfoy? And after having children with him? They weren't even friends when they were matched, you know. And you know perfectly well it's been twice as hard for single witches. I mean, it's not as if you stepped forward then, though you certainly could've."

"Ginny, she was Ron's…no. Besides, what's brought all this on? Why are you even thinking…"

"I'm not," Ginny said immediately. George turned around to stare at her and crossed his arms. Ginny sighed. "Alright, I am," she admitted. "Merlin, how do you two do that? It's not as if I'm known for my matchmaking skills."

"Oh, let me guess, Hermione knew what you were up to as well."

"Well…I sort of swore it wasn't about you."

"And she believed you?"

"I think so."

"Fuck me," George murmured. "Either you have gotten better or her brain really is addled."

Ginny frowned at him. "Listen, I just think that at the very least you two could be friends, you know? Good for one another."

"The only thing I am good for right now, sister mine, is driving witches away and drinking myself into oblivion. Oh, and I invent things sometimes and it's made me rather rich."

Ginny tried not to smile and failed. Both of them knew perfectly well that description was patently untrue, no matter what story she'd weaved for Hermione. George still had all the charm in the world, despite witches giving him a miss for that ear – never mind the clout he held when it came to the business. He'd always had more of a head for it than Fred, after all. She watched her brother carefully a moment more, while thinking.

"So you will come," she finally ventured.

"Oh, I'll be there. Like I said, between Bill and my own guilty conscience, I'll be there. I can't avoid the happy couple forever, can I?"

Something in the way he said it – a little less bitter and a little more carefree – made Ginny take a second look at him.

"George…you're not…did you know about Fred and Angelina?"

He gave a start and Ginny pounced.

"You did! How long did you know? That's why you said that about missing dinner and avoiding them…you'd been skipping for weeks because you already knew about them, isn't that right?"

George backed away and reached for the tea kettle.

"Listen, Ginny, even if that's true it doesn't matter, does it? What's done is done. Nothing I can do about it now so I may as well learn to live with it, eh?" he said lightly.

Ginny crossed her arms and stalked around him as he prepared the tea.

"Mm-hmm," she said, the truth dawning on her. "So not only did you know, you're actually ok with it, is that what you're saying?"

"No!" George protested a bit too loudly. "Not in the slightest! I just think that if they're happy, well, he is my twin after all and I did care about her happiness, so…"

"That's bollocks!" Ginny cried. "You wanted them together, didn't you? In fact, you deliberately avoided our gatherings in order to throw them together! George Weasley, don't you dare try to deny it. Oh, I see exactly what's going on here."

"And what is that, exactly?" George responded, turning around. "Please, enlighten me."

"You pushed away the only witch you were finally matched with because you don't want to get married. You have some mental idea that you're married to your job and no witch will want you and you knew Fred would never get married before you unless you did something drastic; so you picked Angelina, an ex-flame of his, on purpose and then conspired to get her to dump you for Fred. Am I right?"

For once in his life, George floundered for words, a comeback, the perfect retort that would shut up his baby sister and make her leave him the hell alone, the way he wanted. Ginny glared at him.

"George Weasley, you are in so much trouble now."

"Don't tell Mum!" he said, reaching out and taking her by the shoulders. She looked up at him, aghast at the honesty she saw in his face. He genuinely was afraid someone would see right through him the way she had.

"Don't tell Mum? Really? That's all you can say? Dear Merlin, George. You're more of a mess than I thought. Does Bill know any of this?"

"Every bit of it," George admitted, groaning and Ginny groaned along with him.

"And that's why he's the one who's been able to threaten you into compliance. I see. Oh, George," she said softly. "You're going to be ok, you know?"

"Yeah, maybe once you lot finally agree to leave me alone," he said, dropping his hands and turning back to the kettle. He poured out the hot water. Ginny stayed his motion over the second cup.

"None for me, thanks. I really ought to get back. Harry can't pick up James tonight and if I leave him with Mum much longer she'll spoil his dinner." She hesitated. "Are you going to be alright? We'll really see you at dinner?"

George shrugged. "I promised Bill and Mum – and now you. I'll be there. Just don't expect any sparks to fly with me and Hermione. She's a witch out of my league, Ginny, never mind it would just be too weird. Besides, now that you know…can't you just let me alone?"

"They're cracking down more, George. It's not going to get any easier for you, you know. Hermione doesn't have to worry anymore, of course, but I just thought…at least you could be friends. She needs some friends. People that aren't so busy with work and families of their own…oh, Merlin. George, that sounded awful. I'm sorry."

"Nah, I know what you mean, Ginny. Don't worry so much. I'm tougher than you think."

"Yeah, I knew that already," she retorted, glad to see his humor restored. "After all, it was only an ear you lost, right?"

"Right," George said, grinning back at her. "Now get out of here, run home to your ickle Jamie-kins."

"Alright. See you soon, George. Oh, and…sorry about the vodka. Mandrake based?"

"Oh, no, Ginny. You are not replacing that bottle. You broke it fair and square."

"Yeah, yeah," she tossed back at him before she disappeared in a flash of green flames. George turned from his tea and stared into the fireplace morosely. So, he might've banned Ginny from buying him another bottle…that didn't mean she'd broken the only one he had. He turned back to the icebox and pulled the door open, sticking his head far inside to find what he wanted…wondering how much alcohol it would take for him to sleep straight through the next few days and wake up Monday to find the dinner had come and gone.

Honestly, if Hermione thought the last ten years hadn't gone entirely according to plan, George's had gone entirely too much to plan. He'd helped his friends and family defeat He-Who-Was-The-Bunk; he and his brother had gone on to rebuild and expand their prankster empire; and he'd made massive amounts of money and helped pay for his little sister's final year at school. He had helped his parents with their remodel on The Burrow. He had even ensured that his little brother would always be remembered, memorialized as he was in the Ronald Weasley Foundation, a group that funded an assortment of programs for youth in the wizarding world. And of course, through it all he and Fred had been side by side, consulting, making the decisions, helping one another cope…Merlin, how they'd coped. Fred had been a right mess immediately following the war. Aside from his Mum and Hermione, Fred had probably been the most affected by Ron's untimely demise. After all, it had been Fred Ron was trying to save at the time that curse hit him and George knew the guilt his twin felt over that was massive.

So really, when the marriage fiasco caused by the Ministry with all but an actual law forcing young singles to pair up or sod off happened, and George assured Fred that he had no intentions of getting married, Fred had done the only thing he felt he could. He'd decided to throw himself into managing his twin's life. Why? Because a project was so much more appealing than dealing with his own twisted emotions – George knew it only too well, himself. Which was why he, in turn, had decided to make a project out of Fred. He personally thought his project had turned out much better. Now Fred was gloriously, deliriously in love with Angelina and in the weeks leading up to their elopement George thought Fred had been happier in those short months than he had for the past ten years. Not even knowing they'd both made it out of that duel with Bellatrix alive had been enough to assuage the guilt that had hung over Fred, but Angelina had fixed all that, as George had known she would. In a small way, he was as happy as his twin, just knowing how Fred felt. Not only that, Fred's marriage would keep Molly satisfied for a while, which would give George enough time to figure a way around those stupid Ministry mandates once and for all.

He didn't want to get married, he had no use for the institution and no witch had any use for him, that was certain. Why give in to the pressure when he had more than enough money to pay his taxes in a timely fashion and never incurred any fines since he never wanted to go out? No, he could live with what the future had brought him…and needless to say, he was fairly sure Hermione Malfoy could live with her future as well. Still, Ginny did have a point, albeit a small one. Hermione probably did need a friend who was single and relatively carefree. One who had enough time on his hands to not mind how many times she interrupted their conversations to speak to her children or how often she begged to stay in because someone had a cold. He wasn't much for going out, the most conversation he made anymore was with customers and immediate family – barring the face he presented to the world of business – and he had no intentions of letting his work or a girlfriend – Merlin forbid – get in the way of what precious few friendships he had left. Hell, he even liked children, for all he went on about them…he wouldn't spend so much time helping out at the Foundation otherwise.

But that did not give his little sister the right to try and set him up with her single friends, particularly the ones who were still in mourning, busy trying to raise children and had likely snogged his little brother. And Ginny honestly thought he'd be happy to date Hermione after that when for all he knew, maybe she'd even done more than snog Ron – no. Oh, no. He hadn't needed that picture in his head, at all. Ew, ew, and yech.

George looked at the new bottle of vodka in his hand, decided it wouldn't help erase that image – in fact, it would probably make it far worse – and stuck his head back in the freezer. It was going to be a long wait until Sunday dinner.