Work Text:
"Aren't you looking drop-dead gorgeous, Granger."
Hermione bowed her head to the nameless ministry official she had been dancing with and spun on one golden-clad ball of a foot.
As the orchestral band began the first notes of their next song, Hermione locked eyes with a glittering, glowing fire salamander.
Not a real one, of course, but he was resplendent in robes that seemed to undulate as they shifted from fiery scarlet, vivid magenta, and a deep, pulsing gold. The mask affixed to his face was meticulously detailed with scales and shifted through the spectrum of colours in time with his robes. Golden and blue flames – actual flames – limned his form. He was quite proud of the spell work, to be sure, but that was nothing on the feeling blooming in his chest as he watched Hermione eyeing the details of his costume.
Hermione smiled at the burning figure in front of her. "Hello, George."
George smirked, a dimple popping in his cheek below the edge of his mask, and he stepped toward her to scoop her up into position for the next dance. His blood sang in his veins as he slipped his hands along her form and set them in position.
"Now, Granger, how could you possibly know who I am? This is a masquerade, after all."
Hermione chuckled deep in her throat as she slid a gold-painted hand up from George's shoulder to graze the scarred tissue of his ear before sliding her fingers into the messy ginger hair protruding at his nape. She dragged her hand back around to trace a blunt gold nail across the scar on his freckled chin before dropping her hand back to his broad shoulder.
"Aside from my knowledge of all men Weasley, it would seem you've a rather gaping hole in your disguise, my good Salamander."
George's lips twitched as he slipped a hand further around her waist, drawing her slight frame closer to his taller one. His hand danced along her bared lower back, pressing fingertips into gold-tinted skin beneath the feathered capelet that hung from her shoulders.
"An oversight, to be sure," George whispered conspiratorially.
"And how are you so certain of my identity?" Hermione teased back in the same tone.
George used the next turn to draw Hermione closer still, their thighs now brushing as he led them through the steps. He swore he heard her breath grow shallower as he tightened his grip on her waist.
"You may have dipped yourself in Felix Felicis, my dearest Hermione, but I would know your smile anywhere."
"Snidget."
"Ah, bless," George smirked.
"I'm a snidget, George, not a sneeze."
"And I'm the lucky salamander to catch you tonight. Have I won the house cup?"
"Mmm," Hermione hummed amusedly, "if only you'd been the first to catch me. I'm afraid that honour went to another house."
"Blast! Which Slytherin must I duel for your honor tonight?"
"Wrong house. You'll find Terry near the refreshments, I assume. For a Ravenclaw, he certainly has a Slytherinesque tolerance for alcohol." Hermione grinned as George spun her in a quick twirl.
The miniscule feathers that made up her flowing gown and capelet fanned out around her in a shimmering arc, and George's pulse kicked up a notch. As she came to a breathless stop, she slid a hand from George to adjust her golden mask, ensuring the beak had not slipped.
"You still look absolutely perfect, Hermione," George reassured her as she dropped her hand back into his. "Though I am interested to see just how thorough you were with the paint."
The suggestive tone was obvious and Hermione leaned into his shoulder, pressing her feathered breast against his torso.
"Quite thorough," she breathed into his good ear.
George stumbled over the next step, and before he could recover, Hermione slipped from his grasp and between the dancers to their left.
"I suppose you'll have to catch me to make certain," she called playfully.
She disappeared in an instant, leaving a stunned George swearing good-naturedly amid the dancers and their laughter.
As he wove his way through the revelers, George was grinning so large his cheeks hurt. George Weasley was irrefutably, infuriatingly in love with Hermione Granger.
And he was going to catch his golden snidget tonight.