Hermione had a bone to pick with George Weasley. She had received a letter from Adaline, telling her that Liam had gotten a month’s detention for doing something ridiculous with… unsurprisingly, a WWW product. She had to deal with those ridiculous products enough at home and when visiting the Burrow to have to hear about her son’s antics at school now too. Normally, she wouldn’t bother George at home—well, no, she had no problem bothering him at home, but she didn’t want to show up and yell at him in front of Molly or Arthur. Hopefully, they weren’t home; but it had been her only option as by the time she got off work, his shop had been closed for the evening. Bloody ridiculous joke products, she thought, once she had Apparated out in front of the very familiar home. Hermione had no idea if Liam had purchased the products, or if George had just given them to him, but regardless, he wasn’t to have them at Hogwarts.

She didn’t even bother to knock before entering the home through the kitchen, noticing that the very man she wanted to speak to was already in the room. Hands on her hips, Hermione shot George Weasley a look that should have bloody petrified him, “George,” she stated, figuring that if he was smart he already had a very good idea of why she was there. After all, the kids had been home for Easter only a few weeks ago and they had been over here on numerous occasions. Hermione would give him maybe five seconds to explain, if he was lucky.

@george

Outfit

George’s shop had been doing extremely well. He had been spending a good bit of his time working on new products and getting a good stock of some of his more popular products ready for the summer rush he would be getting in the very near future. The day itself had been a touch slow, so he saw no reason to keep it open when he had other things to do. While he would always be a child at heart he sometimes had to pretend to be an adult to keep things afloat. Granted he always made up for it with the ridiculous pranks he pulled on poor unsuspecting patrons. He needed testing subjects, and what subjects were better than those already familiarizing themselves with his products. He chuckled to himself as he thought about the screecher he had tossed at Harry when he had popped by for a visit a couple of weeks prior. Those would definitely be best sellers.

He had just walked into the kitchen to grab himself something to drink when he heard the door open and saw a familiar, albeit angry face burst through. He quirked an eyebrow at his old friend as she said his name in amusement. He wasn’t sure why she thought that worked on him though he would be lying if he said it wasn’t entertaining. ”’Mione.” He replied mirroring her actions though he added a hair flip for some extra flair.

Hermione loved all of the Weasleys like family, of course—except perhaps Percy on occasion. She had known them far too long for that to not be the case. However, George was the perfect example of loving someone and yet still disliking them a great majority of the time. She had been grudgingly impressed when the shop he and his late twin opened turned out to be so successful, but she should have known that growing up wouldn’t end her having to deal with these ridiculous products. Even without her kids, George tested out his wares on everyone present at the Burrow on more than one occasion. Hermione knew better than to take anything offered by him at this point, but that was hardly the only way these things worked. And now her children were carrying on this legacy of troublemaking, much to her displeasure. She had at least expected that, and at home or the Burrow were entirely different situations than at Hogwarts. The last thing she wanted was Liam and Deacon in and out of detentions every other day. She was glad she could at least count on Adaline to display some sense.

“Don’t give me that blasé tone, George Weasley,” she snapped, pulling a parchment out of her purse, “Care to explain to me why Liam is in detention for a month due to some prank pulled off with… unsurprisingly, one of your products?” Hermione asked, crossing her arms. Mocking her was not going to do him any good, as she had come here with an end result in mind and that was what she was expecting to have occur, “I thought I’ve made it clear my opinions on giving your ridiculous products to my children. I’d prefer for them not to be in detention every day,” Hermione concluded, raising an eyebrow at him.

George would think by now that Hermione would know just how things worked. She wasn’t intimidating, at least not now that they were older. Just as he seemed to not grow out of the more dominant part of his personality it seemed she didn’t either. Even as adults it would still continue to amuse him to no end to aggravate the witch with his products and presence in general. He shrugged with a smirk when she told him not to take a tone with him just enjoying her irritation as it brought some form of normalcy back to his life. Moving back to the Burrow to make sure his family was safe was still a bit much for him though he did still hang around his apartment above the shop when he needed a break.

The red head snatched the parchment from her hand and read it over before bursting out into a loud obnoxious laugh holding onto the counter to stop himself from sinking down to the floor in tears. It seemed like Liam had put his little gift package to good use. ”Nope, don’t care.” He breathed in between his laughter. ”Honestly ‘Mione, you need to let the kids have a bit of fun.” George took a deep breath wiping a tear from his eye and shaking his head. He would never understand what her aversion was to letting the kids be, well, kids. She knew things were going to hell again. What was the harm in a little fun? ”And I’m pretty sure I made it clear when you announced you were hosting the first little ankle biter that they would never go without a good laugh… most likely at your expense. As for the detentions… I’m working on a product at current that should help alleviate that problem. He’ll be the first to receive that.” He chuckled loudly preparing to duck out of the way if she tossed something at him.

Hermione knew that George had a good side… somewhere. He had redeemable qualities, obviously—he was a member of a family that were all some of the best people she had ever met. Merlin, he’d moved in back home and that certainly hadn’t been because he needed to. His shop would apparently always be doing well as students and even adults with a few screws loose would continue to buy his products. Of course, her husband was one of those select adults but she would choose to brush aside that fact for the time being. The point was, she needed to remind herself that George was her friend, for lack of a better word she supposed, at the end of the day and that she probably shouldn’t smack him around for irritating the hell out of her and causing her daily headaches. However, the moment that he spoke again, her brief moment of calm just went right out the window. Bloody insufferable man, she thought, scowling again as he grabbed the parchment out of her hand. His laughter only made the situation worse, though she could have suspected that he would find this nothing but a barrel of laughs, “Oh, I’ll be finding a way to ensure you do care if this keeps up,” she warned him, and her mind was already whirring with possibilities on how to get the message through to him.

Liam and Deacon were lucky that she even allowed the products at home. It felt like every other hour she was cleaning up some mess from some ridiculous joke product, but at least they couldn’t find themselves expelled by joking around at the house. Hogwarts was a different matter entirely, “I prefer fun that doesn’t risk expulsion, or do you for some reason think they’re immune to that little possibility?” Knowing Minerva wouldn’t stop them from getting suspended or expelled if they went too far, she knew that. At least she could count on Adaline to be sane, unless she just hid her wrongdoings better than her brothers did. Hermione’s glare only intensified as he brought up the very first time that she’d realized that he’d never let her have a moment’s bloody peace as far as giving her children his products. As if they weren’t already carrying the dominant Potter troublemaking gene, he decided to throw in products that made it even worse. She groaned in frustration at the mention of a new product, “George Weasley, that is the last thing he needs… another bloody new product,” she added under her breath, “What does this one do? Blow up the detention room?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

Honestly she would absolutely never change and that was strangely comforting to George. Granted she was still an absolute kill joy at best. She had good intentions and she was just looking out for the kids’ ‘well-being’ but he felt sometimes she was overly dramatic over the smallest things. ”You can try.” He stated still chuckling lightly. She had been threatening him for far more than half of his life and so far she had been coming up all spades. Life was far too short to follow the ‘rules’ as far as he was concerned, or at least the ones that wouldn’t land him in legal troubles though sometimes he contemplated breaking those silly rules too.

George rolled his eyes at his old friend as she started with her dramatics. The woman really needed to learn how to loosen up. He wasn’t sure how the hell Harry was able to handle being around such a prude when it came to good harmless fun. ”Oi, you act like I would send them something potentially dangerous while at school. Have a little more faith in me for the love of Merlin. I doubt dung bombs and portable swamps warrant an expulsion. You need to bloody lighten up and stop ruining everyone’s good time. Have you forgotten all the rules you had broken that you should have been expelled from… talk about cauldron meet kettle.” He laughed with a shake of his head. A mischievous looks came over his face at her next question causing him to wag a finger at her in amusement. ”Now if I tell you it wouldn’t be nearly as exciting when I’m finally finished it. But blowing up the detention room sounds like it could be fun.” He said thoughtfully making a mental note as a few other ideas popped into his head.

Although she knew that many people thought that she’d never do anything slightly illegal or immoral, Hermione knew that she’d bent a hell of a lot of rules when necessary. Nobody had thought she’d be the type to blackmail someone, but she’d gotten Rita Skeeter to stop writing for a year after the Triwizard Tournament. That thought had been on her mind quite a lot recently, as she had been thinking about paying the woman another visit. She’d been back to her venomous ways, obviously, as the Prophet still seemed to be firmly in the Ministry’s pocket. Perhaps it was time for another break for the horrible reporter, but that was a focus for another time. Now, she had to focus on George Weasley, and him being her friend wouldn’t save him from her wrath if her children continued to get in trouble with his ridiculous pranks. Granted, she wasn’t going to do anything crazy, as clearly she didn’t detest him in the slightest—which was quite different than how she felt about the reporter. But that situation had certainly been proof of her willingness to do something questionable to gain the result she wanted. There had to be some way to get George to stop with the damn pranks and if there was a way, Hermione knew she’d find it, “You know I will,” she replied, and her trying usually ended up pretty successful for the most part. Even though it seemed that she could never win against George.

Hermione knew that George wouldn’t send them anything openly dangerous, though perhaps it wasn’t coming off like that. There was a large difference though, which she deemed important enough to vocalize, “I just think you have an incredibly different definition of what is and isn’t dangerous,” she told him, raising an eyebrow. That was something that he couldn’t deny was true. His version of dangerous was questionable at best, and something that a more reserved person might define as catastrophic. Besides, that swamp was a bloody bitch to clear out. “Name one time I broke any rule that wasn’t for a good reason,” she prompted, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to. Every time she’d done anything and gotten in trouble for it, it had been for some purpose… for the most part, at least. At least, George wouldn’t know about all of them. Hermione rolled her eyes as he seemingly thought over her suggestion on blowing up the detention room. Really, Hermione didn’t even want to know what this potential product was, but she knew that she’d be finding out soon enough. That was the problem. She couldn’t get away from it—not at school, and not in the years since. “George Weasley, if you send him anything that blows anything up, I swear to Merlin…” Hermione shook her head, hoping that this ridiculous product wouldn’t be completed until this school year was over, at least.

Honestly sometimes Hermione got on George’s nerves. It seemed the older she got the worse she got about things. Sometimes it felt like she genuinely thought she was invincible or could do no wrong. Barging into his home and threatening him was laughable. They all had bigger things to worry about and even George was well aware of this. If the kids could have fun now before they were thrown into a new war what was the harm in it? Sure he was the same for the most part, but age had taken its toll on him and his patience wasn’t exactly what it used to be. He rolled his eyes at her comment before making his way over to the refrigerator and opening to grab a beer. ”Want anything?” He asked casually gesturing inside of it.

”Honestly, you act like I’m sending them pyrotechnics or some bloody nonsense. Yes, I like to have a bit of fun, but even I have my bloody limits.” He said taking a swig of his beer before setting it on the counter. ”You still broke rules, does it really matter under what conditions you did it? Double fucking standards if you ask me.” He added with a shrug. He knew that a lot of the rules she had broken there was a damn good reason for it, but there were some that seemed like a bit of overkill in their younger years. He was growing tired of the conversation already. It seemed like those days she put a major damper on things, and he was no longer in the mood to be talked to as if he were an errant child. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. ”Are you done yet? I have business to deal with.” She was being ridiculous and he just didn’t feel like tolerating it any longer.

It seemed that every single time they had a conversation like this, it went the exact same way. One would think that either one of them would learn something from that, but apparently they wouldn’t. Hermione would come over to the house or the shop to berate him, he found find it amusing for an almost set amount of time, before he started to get irritated in return. For someone who found her presence and tirades as annoying as he did, Hermione would think he’d simply stop giving her children his pranks; it would be an easy fix to save him the headache he seemed to constantly be harboring when she was around. That would make it a lot easier on her, as well. There was a lot going on outside of these ridiculous problems, but sometimes it was just easier for her to focus on the smaller problems to try to get her focus off of how tense situations were getting around them. Hermione nodded as he offered her a drink, taking a step closer to the refrigerator. “Sure, I’ll take a beer,” she stated, knowing that it was nearly at the point in this conversation where they would both be needing one. Hermione had no idea why he insisted on making everything so complicated.

“No, this is not the conversation that we would be having if you were sending them pyrotechnics,” Hermione shook her head, knowing that that would be a very different kind of discussion indeed… involving a lot harsher words and a hex or two if she got really frustrated. Although, Hermione didn’t doubt that he would break those limits, as he’d set off quite the display of pyrotechnics when Umbridge was at Hogwarts. If a situation arose like that again, he’d probably be the first one to send students supplies necessary to make an enforcer at Hogwarts’ life hell. The thought of that might be amusing, but it would have far worse ramifications. Hermione sighed in irritation at his mention of double standards. “We’ve been here before, George,” she said, finally vocalizing her thoughts. He put himself in the position to get aggravated at her, really, as he should know how this always went down at this point. “You always get so bloody irritated that I call you out for your shit, well, if you don’t want to hear my complaints, there’s quite the easy fix, now isn’t there?” Hermione stated, raising an eyebrow. If he didn’t send Liam and Deacon his products, then Hermione wouldn’t have any tirades to go on. After all, she let her sons’ antics slide where pranks where concerned when they were home, as long as they didn’t use them at school. But apparently, that was right out the window as far as George was concerned.

George tossed her a beer and casually closed the refrigerator with his foot. He knew he probably should be checking in with his friends before sending their kids ‘goodie bags’ but he had always assumed his friends would be able to laugh it off, as everyone had with the exception of Hermione. He could understand her frustration, but they were older now and her bursting into his family’s house to scold him like he was a child was not okay with him. In all honestly had she not directly went from zero to twat in the blink of an eye he would have been more liable to stop and then they could have sat down like old times reminiscing. It was becoming clear this wouldn’t be one of those times.

She was being outrageously disrespectful. He was not her damn child, though now he was starting to feel bad for them really. He tried to convince himself that she was just stressed out and it was bleeding over into her personal life, though he somehow doubted it. It obviously didn’t help that she just didn’t know when to quit. For everything he said she had some sort of answer that she felt further gave her permission to act the way she was. George typically didn’t get offended, but she had somehow managed to aggravate the usual energetic jester. ”The kids will no longer receive anything from me. Now I’d like it if you left.” He said curtly taking a sip of his beer. If she didn’t leave he would. He had more respect for himself then to stand around letting her speak to him the way she was. This most definitely wasn’t his friend that he had loved so dearly years ago.