Chapter One: In Which Hermione Has Ludicrous, Passionate Thoughts

"No, I will not go out with you. Frankly, I can't believe you asked," I state with a reasonable amount of audacity.

"You can't just lead me on like that, you know," says Fred in protest. He really is desperate for a date, especially if he does have to come to me as a last resort.

"Come on, Hermione, be sensitive to a poor guy's heart!"

"Fred, I don't think it's your heart that needs sensitivity."

"I can't believe you just said that!"

"Well, believe it, because I just did."

Fred huffs and puffs all the way down the hallway, acquiring enough momentum to slam his door properly. I do feel a little bad for him, but not enough to insinuate a date, especially one that is meant to steal the heart of Katie Bell.

"Hermione, have you seen my… umm… never mind," Ron rushes around, slightly distracted, trying to pack all the things that tend to spread out during the summer holidays.

"Hermione, can't you help me… forget it," Harry has become so much like Ron these years, that it makes me laugh out loud, sometimes.

Gingerly, I step into Ginny's room, watch her pack the remainder of her things, and whistle to myself.

"What in the world is that song you're whistling?" Ginny pokes her head out from stacks of books that I really need to ask Mrs. Weasley if she can shrink for me, just until I can unpack them at school.

"I don't know… the name of the band is funny. Foo foo fighters? I don't know, I heard it on the radio."

Ginny raises an eyebrow, but lets it go. It's funny how things that come from my old life, my summer life, my Muggle life, seem to go forgotten in this life, my witch's life. I used to think that the two worlds should come to peace, and that one day I would want to fuse these two opposing worlds into one. But as I've grown older, I wonder if that would be a good idea, or if, in fact, wizards and Muggles should be kept apart? These kinds of ideas are comfortable to me. They stretch in my imagination, reaching out and turning into a motion that soon turns into an act. I relish in these thought, my lofty goals. They seem so much easier to think of than that writhing, sneaky, delicious idea of boys.

Oh! Boys! Something marvelous, tangible, delectable, and rather mysterious has no right to come popping into ones head at the absolute worst moments! No one should have to think of what is under a wizard's robe when she is taking an exam, or eating her breakfast. Freedom of thought is a God- given right that has been taken from me! Nothing should be able to posses my mind such as crude thoughts that come from nowhere. Damn those raging hormone to hell.

"Hermione, I'm sorry to interrupt your murderous thoughts, but you're sitting on the dress robes I've been looking for," Ron waves a hand in front of my face, which apparently echoes my thoughts like a mirror. One of those random, crude thoughts pops into my head at precisely the wrong moment.

"Sorry, Ron," I murmur and shoot to the door, suppressing what will surely be an eruption of giggles. The image of sitting on Ron's lap instead of his dress robes flashes through my head, making me feel ridiculous and surprisingly warm at the same time. Oh, to be young and have ludicrous, passionate thoughts. I recite the alphabet backwards in a last ditch effort to stop that train from leaving.

"What are you doing? Omega… Psi… Chi… What? Oi! Ron! She 'as officially gone insane!"

"Oh, shut up!" I say laughing, conjuring up an image of George leaning in for a… Oh God, this really is too much. "It's the Greek Alphabet."

"I thought that was something like 'Alpha… Beta… something.'"

"I was doing it backwards."

"Oh," he turns to me full of suspicion, "why in hell would you do something like that?"

"That is for me to know and you not to know!" I volley back tartly.

"Pff… well, then…" I watch him trot along down to the kitchen in hot pursuit of the suddenly strong scent of chicken.

The Weasleys are by far one of my favorite families. They are predictable, unique, loving, kind… what else could you want in a family that you spend most of your time with? It's really too bad that Harry and Ginny have hardly said a word to each other. It helps that there are at least three young, handsome males living here, not to mention the two that visit on holidays. Not that that's what matters, of course! No… no… not at all…. Sigh.

Well, tomorrow we go back to Hogwarts, and when there, boys will not be a problem of delightful inquest at all. I don't know how I feel about that.