It was her guilty secret.

It had started out innocently enough, but now she found it too addictive to stop, though she knew it wasn't quite right. And on top of it, being an official tester was just humiliating. Though she was glad only Fred and George knew, she suspected it was only a matter of time before one of them let it slip – and when they did, it would no doubt be quite a show.

It had all started on the night that she'd seen Ron kissing Lavender Brown in the Gryffindor common room. After scarring, (she hoped), Ron with her flock of canaries she'd run upstairs to her dorm, fallen onto her bed and cried.

After a while, she rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling of her four poster as she tried not to think of a certain idiot boy. How could he do this to her? After she'd plucked up the courage to ask him to Slughorn's party and everything! He was just unbelievable, she thought. Lavender bloody Brown can have him!

She tried thinking of other things, like focusing on homework or ways to help Harry, but it just wasn't to be. She ferreted around in her trunk looking for a book that she'd read only a couple of times, but there were none. All her volumes were well thumbed and thoroughly bookmarked. But then, under a fancy Quill Harry had given her one Christmas, she found something. A Weasley Wizard Wheezes box depicting a girl falling into the arms of a swarthy youth. The Patented Daydream Charm. They'd given it to her for free after Fred had heard her praise their charm skills.

She hadn't had any need of it then. The boy of her dreams sat next to her in most classes, and was in her company nearly every evening, so she'd forgotten all about it, but now she wanted to obliterate that boy from her memory. He had broken her heart too many times without even knowing it, and she couldn't stand for it to happen again.

Hermione pulled the curtains of her four poster closed and sat cross legged on her bed and read the back of the box:

One simple incantation and you will enter a top-quality highly realistic thirty minute daydream, easy to fit into the average school lesson and virtually undetectable (side-effects include vacant expression and minor drooling). Not for sale to under-sixteens.

Seems safe enough, she thought, knowing that Fred and George were well known for their rigorous testing policies. I might as well have a daydream about something wonderful, rather than sit here and be upset over that prat.

She opened the box and pulled out the rolled piece of parchment that had the charm printed on it. Underneath the script was a diagram showing the precise wand movements to use in conjunction with it.

"Looks easy enough," she said to no one in particular. "Adamo somnium!"

She looked about her as the colours of the bed hangings blurred from deep red velvet to gold and blue. Then, as suddenly as it started, the sensation stopped.

Hermione looked about. There was wonderful blue sky above her and shimmering water beneath her - perhaps a bit too close, she started, as she appeared to be standing on the gang plank of a ship...

She squealed as the gang plank trembled ominously below her feet like a diving board at a very high pool. Turning around from facing the sea, she saw that the gang blank was indeed connected to a ship. A pirate ship, judging by the Jolly Roger, she noted.

A yell drew her attention to the fore of the ship where a battle seemed to be taking place. There were about seven men with swords advancing on a singular figure. She reached into her robes for her wand in case the men turned and saw her, but realized she no longer had it. She wasn't even wearing her robes anymore, but a sort of butter coloured summer dress that was decorated with gold ribbon.

"Fred and George really have outdone themselves," she whispered in awe as she made down the gang plank for the more stable ship's deck.

"And you Missy, shall be done in before you know it," croaked a harsh voice which came from her right as she stepped onto the solid decking.

Hermione screamed and backed into a large crate that stood on the deck, as the scarred, grey whiskered pirate lunged at her.

"Ok, now this is getting a bit too real," she said as the pirate moved closer to her. He was grinning at her with what looked like wooden teeth, splintered and chipped.

"I don't know why birds aren't permitted on boats," he breathed heavily, exhaling breath that reeked of fish and decay. "There's not much to do out at sea for recreation, but you could solve that, you could. Maybe I shouldn't force you overboard..."

"Get away from me, or...or...I'll use wandless magic on you! I swear I know how!" Hermione yelled as the pirate got so close she could almost feel his fetid breath on her face. She tried to kick him, but he dodged out of the way easily.

"C'mon now, that's not very friendly," he growled reaching a filthy hand towards her cheek.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, wanting badly to wake up, and braced herself for the inevitable. She heard a heavy thud and opened her eyes quickly. The swarthy captain from the cover of the box was standing in front of her, hands on hips.

"Not to fear, my Lady," he said in a cheery voice.

Behind him blood was oozing out from the prostrate pirate, staining the wooden deck.

"Th-thanks," Hermione stuttered, a little taken aback at his sudden appearance.

"You're safe now," he smiled, flashing teeth that could rival Lockhart's, and held out his hand towards her which she took hesitantly.

"I've taken care of them all, my Lady. The ship is yours, and I am your humble servant."

He didn't sound very humble, Hermione thought, but he seemed sincere enough all the same. He was tall, though not as tall as Ron, she noted, and had broad shoulders and a golden tan. His jet black hair had a blue sheen in the tropical light and his eyes were friendly and azure like the sea. His hands were rough and strong, yet comforting she decided, as he led her to the main mast.

"Just step over them," he said merrily, as she looked at the bodies strewn about the ship.

"Are they all dead?" Hermione asked. She didn't really relish the idea of spending time with a killer, but it was something she thought Fred and George might come up with.

"Well, they did bring it on themselves. This is your ship after all," he winked at her, "Also you might want to note that my sword is the only one that doesn't have blood on it."

She watched him draw his sword, and sure enough, it was clean and sparkling in the sunlight. He returned it to his sheath and turned his attention to removing the Jolly Roger. Hermione watched him bring down the mighty flag and replace it with a fairer one. She wasn't minding this daydream at all, not at all.

"My name is Captain Johnathan Ransom, by the way," he added as an afterthought, "and I was sent to your rescue as soon as we caught wind of the mutiny."

"Well thank you for saving me," she said going along with the dream. "I'm Hermione Granger."

He laughed then, and the sound was warm and light, "Yes, of course you are. You are also brilliant, talented, wealthy, beautiful and world famous!"

"I am?"

"Apparently you are also sublimely modest," he grinned as he moved towards the ship's prow, Hermione in tow. "You own all of this," he gestured to an island in the distance and the azure sea around them.

She was amazed. It was all so tangible – the tropical sea, with it's warm summer breezes, the wood beneath her feet, the blurred outline of the island ahead of them, and the man at her side, his shoulder length hair and the yoke of his shirt blowing in the wind.

No freckles there, she thought, unable to tear her eyes away from the broad expanse of chest shown to her. Captain Ransom certainly was the most gorgeous person she'd ever seen.

As if mirroring her own thoughts he said, "You put all this to shame," he looked wistfully towards the sea, then back to her. "You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Hermione was too shocked to even berate him for referring to her as an object. She just gazed back at him, his azure eyes flecked with violet and inviting.

"For a captain who's spent his life on the water, it is a very bad thing to be in love with a mistress other than the sea," he whispered, drawing closer to her.

It wasn't the invasion of privacy she had experienced when the filthy crewman had advanced on her. It felt natural, as if a sort of magnetic attraction was pulling him to her.

She had felt like this before on occasion. It was the same kind of feeling as when she bumped hands with Ron reaching for the juice jug at breakfast, or when they sat close to each other as she helped him finish his homework late at night. She kind of felt a bit guilty for having this feeling with someone else. Someone she had just met, but, this is a dream, she corrected, and Ron and I have never even kissed.

Ransom's face was so close to her now that she was enchanted by his eyes and relished the feeling of his strong hands on her back gently coaxing her towards him.

His lips were strong and gentle and his breath sweet. She melt into him, enjoying the closeness of his strong body to hers, and opened her mouth into his kiss. Her hands strayed to his long hair, entwining her fingers in black silk. It was all happening so slowly and tenderly, as if time had stopped.

One hand had moved to her cheek, cupping her face for better advantage as his kiss grew deeper, his tongue swirling against hers, making her stomach flip. Then he drew away, watching for her expression.

She focused on his eyes as he parted from her, and it took a moment to realize they were changing into a deeper blue, the violet sparks melting away. She looked to her hands as they were nestled in the hair at his nape, and saw with horror that the hair was changing from black into a rich red.

She stepped back altogether as Ransom's face became freckled and his nose grew longer. His hair was nearly entirely red now, and his shoulders and chest narrower. Freckles peaked through the gap in the shirt's yoke, peppering skin that was now milky.

Her hands were at her mouth. What was he doing here? This was her fantasy, wasn't it? She was trying to forget all about him, yet here he was. How dare he!

"Hermione," Ron said in a soft voice, awkwardly playing with the cord of his yoke, as his eyes focused on her lips and then flicked back to her eyes again. "Can we do that again, please?"

"Why are you here, Ron? Get out!" She railed at him, and became even angrier when he looked thoroughly confused and affronted.

"What do you mean, why am I here?" He yelled back, confusion turning to rage, "Isn't it obvious?"

"Because you want to ruin my life?" She screamed back at him. "Because any bit of hope you give me, any time I'm happy, you do something stupid and take it away from me?"

She paused, fighting back tears as she looked at the handsome young man in front of her. "And you don't even realize it," she finished in a near whisper.

"No," he said in a strong determined voice as he stepped towards her so they were inches apart. "I'm here because I love you."

"Oh," she managed as her heart flipped like it had when Ransom kissed her, and she realized that it was Ron she had been thinking of all along. Ron's kiss.

She woke up with a start. She was still sitting cross legged on her bed, and judging by her watch a half hour had passed. She touched her lips where Ron had kissed her, the feeling still clear in her mind.

She lay back on her bed and thought about Ron in his Captain's clothing and how dashing he'd looked. Much better than Ransom, really, just because he was Ron with his adorable freckles and vibrant hair.

She felt at peace and happy then, even though rationally she knew that he had never actually said those words to her in real life. She was so content that she fell asleep.

The next day she woke up happy and refreshed, but this feeling was quelled when she saw Lavender clinging to Ron like a sloth in a rainstorm. She avoided him as much as possible from then on, especially as he felt the need to be nasty to her in return for the canary incident.

Every night she'd go up to her dorm early and visit her daydream. Harry seemed to have noticed that she was going to bed at seven in the evenings, but he never said anything to her about it.

Each time it was the same. She was on her pirate infested ship and Captain Ransom would step in and save her, and every time they kissed he would become Ron. Her Ron. And it was bliss.

She also realized that acting differently slightly affected the progression of the story. She could make it more exciting by running into the fray at the front of the ship immediately, or else she could spend nearly her whole daydream kissing Ron if she stayed on the plank at the beginning of her dream so the skirmish finished swiftly. Best of all was when she managed to run amongst the pirates, kiss Ransom briefly, and then Ron would appear and dispatch the remaining pirates using a variety of clever jinxes. His actions were true to the Ron that had always defended her from Malfoy, only this time she was able to thank him properly for it. Naturally, this was her regular course of action.

But the dream never wavered in venue or formulae, and it did get a little boring. Hermione liked to be challenged, and this just wasn't happening anymore.

So she had ordered the next several 'adventures' from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. She felt very embarrassed about ordering from Ron's brothers. She was afraid that the package would arrive and not be in plain wrapping paper, or explode or something, but Fred and George, despite being annoying in person, were apparently gentlemen when it came to their business.

The next daydream's Ransoms also became Ron of their own accord. Hermione wondered if there was something wrong with the charm, and wrote to Fred and George commenting on the general results of the daydreams, (she did not mentioned that the person Ransom turned into was Ron, for obvious reasons).

She received a letter from them the very next day during breakfast. She saw Ron look at her from his seat beside Lavender as the tawny owl flew down to her and landed by her porridge. He probably thought the letter was from Viktor, if only he knew, she smiled to herself.

The letter was not as professional as the packaging had been:

Dear Hermione

Thanks for your notes regarding our Patented Daydream Charms, it was just like getting back our Transfiguration assignments – really, if you hadn't signed your name at the bottom, we swear we would have sent this letter to McGonagall!

Hermione sniffed.

Anyway...you mentioned that in all of your Daydreams the person advertised on the cover turned into someone else towards the end of the dream. Our testing was pretty sound, and all testers reported the same thing, so it must be pretty strong magic that is making the advertised character turn into Ron.

Hermione nearly choked on the mouthful of pumpkin juice she'd just taken.

"Alright, Hermione?" Asked Harry, concerned.

"Yes. Fine, thanks," she replied stiffly, blocking the letter from the dark haired boy beside her.

We believe that the Daydream is being altered because you are in love with our wart of a brother, (honestly, Hermione, we thought you were intelligent! What do you want him for?) and as we all know, love is the strongest magic there is.

She could feel Ron's eyes boring into her, and tried to ignore him.

So, we're afraid the results will be the same in regards to every Patented Daydream Charm you choose. We feel very badly for you. Not only do you have to see his stupid mug when you're awake, but when you're asleep as well!

However, on the up side, Hermione, your notes on other areas of the Patented Daydream Charms have been a massive help, (she had pointed out, among other things, that Muggles don't goaround introducing themselves as 'I'm a Muggle Duke',) so we would like to offer you the position of official tester. You will of course be paid for the trouble, and we will keep your widdle secret under our hats.

Regards

Messrs. Gred & Forge

PS. You should just tell the prat. Don't underestimate our brother's stupidity! It is vast!

And so had begun her job for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. It didn't pay much, but she knew that she would have been buying the daydreams anyway, so really it worked out well. She still felt guilty about the daydreams though. When she was with Ransom she felt like she was cheating on Ron, and upon the first kiss from which Ron appeared, she felt like she was lying to herself.

She removed herself from Ron's path altogether at school. She couldn't bare to be with him without wanting to kiss him and ruffle his hair. She'd been too spoilt at night counting the freckles on his naked shoulders and being held tight in his strong arms.

She tried to fool herself that she wasn't in love with Ron at all, but the idea of love, though every night this theory was overthrown by the mere fact that Ransom turned into Ron without fail.