6 Simple Rules

Disclaimer - I do not own Harry Potter or related characters, scenarios, or J.K's ideas. If I did I'd be in New York City as we speak. But, Sharada Mae Sweetnam is my character, and Skye Sweetnam's fabulous song!

Rule 1 - Never say you're taking a break

"For God's sake, Draco!" Hermione yelled. Her voice echoed through the empty dungeon, her face contorted with fury. "What is your problem? Are you stalking me?"

"What? No! What's so wrong about a bloke seeing his girlfriend once in a while?" Draco protested. "NOTHING!" screamed Hermione, "but you can't drop anything, can you?"

Draco went to retort, but Hermione cut across him. "I don't work in a poky little off-licence, Draco. I'm an Auror, and a school governor. I can't have a million love-letters scattered across my desk when I'm trying to work! I still have my dignity!"

"Hermione…"

"Look, this has to stop. Your just so clingy and needy, Draco." Her voice softened. "I can't do this anymore, accept that."

"Except that what?"

"No, Draco, accept that," Hermione whispered. "I think we need to take a break,"

"When it's only a week and … four days until Christmas? Isn't Christmas for family?" Draco knew what she was getting at, but hoped that if it was never said, it was never true.

"Um… Draco… I mean, er, well, a break from us" Draco looked deep into Hermione's chocolate brown eyes; the sparkle that was once there had gone, and he had a feeling he knew why. "Oh." Draco had to say something, had to win the fight. He opened his mouth. "Well…"

****

"Please, Hermi…"

"No!" Hermione marched off towards her office, desperate for some peace and quiet. "Hermione Granger! It's one freakin' fight! Leave it. Please?"

"Look Malfoy, this ends here. I need some room. We're on a break Malfoy, I don't need this" Draco noticed how she put emphasis on the fact that she called him Malfoy. She hadn't called him Malfoy in six years. This wasn't good.

She stepped into her office, and slammed the door in his face. 'No', thought Draco, 'definitely not good'.

****

Draco sat at the bar, alone and depressed. He watched his reflection in the pint glass and wondered how it got to this. Everyone was so happy. Screw them. It was almost Christmas and he was he was the only one in the pub alone. He suddenly remembered something he had read somewhere - "Love is like a bar of soap, hold on too tight and it slips away," He wasn't that clingy, was he?

"C'mon, Draco, lets dance." It was Pansy Parkinson. The track switched to Fairytale of New York; it was Hermione's favourite. It was his last chance. He took her offer.

At the end of the dance, Pansy stopped and pulled his head down to hers. After the kiss, he looked up. A girl stood in the doorway, her hands balled into fists. "Hermione!"

"Leave me alone Malfoy!"

"Hermione!" They burst out into the blizzard outside; Hermione marching like it was war. In her eyes, it probably was. "Hermione! We were on a break!" Hermione just turned away. "You're pathetic, Malfoy" Draco had no choice but to stop and watch the love of his life walk away until she disappeared through the sheet of snow. "Oh Merlin" Draco whispered to himself. "What have I done?"

Rule 2 - Never let the sun set on an argument

"So…. SO…!"

"So what?"

"Malfoy!" Hermione exploded. Her shrill voice bounced around the courtyard. "Of all people… Pansy Pugface Parkinson!"

"Don't call her that," Draco mumbled. Hermione stopped dead. Did he just dare to stand up for Pansy Parkinson? She turned on him, her voice cold and hard. "Malfoy, just because we're on a break, it doesn't give you an open pass to snog all the girls that turn round to you and bat their eyes just because you're a filthy rich Pureblood!"

Draco paused for a moment. He knew he shouldn't say this but it needed to be said before he could let her badmouth the Malfoy name. "Y'know something, Granger," he sneered, "my father wanted me to drop you the second he met you. And that was before he found out that you're a filthy little mudblood!" Hermione flinched inside. For six years at Hogwarts he'd called her That Name, but to hear it again now made it seem worse. All this was over him. Was he even worth it? She loved him but did she love him enough to admit it? Their relationship was going down the pan, and she just couldn't stop it. Hermione felt all the happiness she had drain away, like liquid sunshine through her fingers.

"And you know something else?" he ranted on. "I actually ignored him! Because I loved you. You were amazing and funny and intelligent, and I damned myself for missing out for so long! Now look at us. Five freakin' pointless years, and all down the drain. I mean, seriously - you say I'm clingy, but all I did was come and visit you. You're always so vague, always wrapped up in your own thing." Draco stopped for breath, and his voice cracked. He turned his back on her, leaning against the wall. Hermione's heart felt like lead; she felt as though she knew what was coming. "I used to love you, Hermione." Draco choked through what might have been tears, his voice scarcely more than a whisper. "I was going to propose on Christmas Eve. I was going to make you a Malfoy, Hermione; I wanted you to be my wife." Hermione reached out to touch his arm, but he brushed her away. "I don't know you anymore." he said, his voice flat and emotionless. Hermione started to count to ten, but that barely cut it, and she'd got to 87 before Draco's hand slipped round hers in the darkness.

"'Mione," he whispered, "I'm starting to think that us just taking a break won't magically fix us like it did with Harry and Ginny. They were made for each other, they were soul mates, and anyone could see that. But us… I just think that it's gonna need a lot more than just tough love and hard work to keep us together. I'm sorry Hermione. We're going nowhere."

"Draco…" Hermione cut across.

"Accio suitcase," he said clearly, pointing his wand towards the tower where Hermione's living quarters were. "Maybe it's for the best; put us out of our misery"

"Draco…" she repeated softly. "I'm sorry,"

"I'm sorry too, 'Mione, but this won't work. I think it's best if we started seeing other people." Draco walked away, suitcase under his arm. He paused for a moment, and in the moonlight he could have sworn he had seen tears glistening in her eyes. "Goodbye, Hermione," Draco called. Hermione was too shocked to answer as, right before her eyes, he disappeared. One single salty tear rolled down Hermione Granger's cheek as for the first time in five whole years, she was alone in the world.

Rule 3 - Wear boots when snowing!

"I'll have the same again, please," Hermione told the barmaid; she gave Hermione a dark look out of the corner of her eye as she poured her yet another Smirnoff Vodka and Coke. "That'll be one galleon forty, again, please," she said, clearing her throat loudly and holding out her hand for the cash. Hermione paid and sat back on the bar-room stool, sighing. She wrapped her cornflower blue waterfall cardigan closer round her and crossed her legs in faded denim jeans. "You need to get yourself back on the market, Herms," Ginny commented, sipping her Butterbeer. "Get yourself a nice guy instead of a total arse like Draco freakin' Malfoy." Ginny shook her head sympathetically. "Malfoys, eh? Can't trust any of them," Hermione was sharply reminded that when Ginny was just a mere eleven years old, she was possessed by Tom Riddle's Horcrux, of which Lucius Malfoy put her in possession of. Voldemort's body may be dead, but the memories were still fresh. "Anyway," Ginny smiled, tactfully changing the subject, "did you hear about Fred and George?"

"No, why?" Hermione shook her head.

"Business is booming! They've got megastores everywhere - London, Tokyo, New York, Paris… then smaller branches everywhere from Sydney to San Francisco!"

"Wow, great for them!" exclaimed Hermione.

"Well, anyway they've just taken over Zonko's up road, so now they've got one in Hogsmede too! Oh, and so I hear, George has a lady friend," Ginny smirked.

"Oh, that's sweet, what's her name?" Hermione inquired eagerly. Since Draco had left her, gossiping had somehow helped. Being around people had started to heal the wound Draco had left in her heart: just a little, but it helped. "Um… Sharada Sweetnam or something like that. Half-Blood." Ginny mused. "I know she's a Yank though - Southern, like… hey! Talk of the devil, eh?!"

At the door, three people in their twenties had turned up. Two were tall, handsome, red-headed males, mirror images of each other - undoubtedly the Weasley twins - and the other was a small, honey-blonde girl who, as Hermione noticed, looked startling like herself. She seemed so classy and smart. Then she sat down and opened her mouth, and the whole illusion faded. "Hey there, Ginny. Hows'y'all doin'?" she spoke very quickly in a broad Southern accent.

"Hey, Sharada - Hermione, Hermione - Sharada," Ginny introduced. Meanwhile, the twins took their seats. "And Hermione, you already know Fred and George, right?" Hermione nodded and smiled, but couldn't help but notice how near Fred was sitting to her. He looked up and much to Hermione's embarrassment caught her staring. He caught her eye and winked, then moved on to buy everyone drinks.

The night went on as normal, and gradually more and more people left, and as the night progressed, Hermione grew more and more tipsy. Finally, it was just Hermione and Fred. "Y'know," she giggled drunkly. "You're so cute." Hermione cringed. 'What the hell are you doing, woman?' Hermione thought to herself. 'Just because you're single!' Fred smiled and ducked his head. "Oh my God! Are you blushing?" giggled Hermione. Fred didn't answer; he just smiled and turned to Hermione. "Do you have ice and lemon with your G&T?"

"Sure," she smiled. Fred ordered two more drinks and laughed as Hermione took hers. "I bet you're glad there's no work tomorrow!"

"You can say that again!" she laughed. "Oh God. I may have flunked Divination but I can still clearly see a massive hangover in the morning!"

When both their glasses were empty, the couple wished the barmaid a merry Christmas, Hermione's sarcastic, and the two stumbled out into the heavy snowfall. "God…" Fred whispered. "I love Christmas!"

"Who doesn't!" laughed Hermione, "it gives you an excuse to drink!" Fred shook his head and laughed. "You're the best when you're drunk, you turn into this crazy alcoholic!"

"Hey…" Hermione giggled indignantly. She left to one side to collect snow for a snowball, but slipped on the ice. She grabbed Fred by the scruff of the neck and they both landed in the gutter, laughing hysterically. "Frick! Damn this ice!" Hermione cursed. "Well, those shoes can't have helped either," Fred pointed at her footwear, which were flat ballet pumps with no grips whatsoever. "Yeah," Hermione sighed. "Look at me, eh? Hangover and bruises on the horizon, and not even a date in sight." She shook her head.

"What?! I thought you were with ferret boy?"

"Was."

"That guy's nuts for giving you up…" Fred said absentmindedly. An awkward silence followed, then Fred put his arm around Hermione. "Close your eyes."…

***

Fred pulled away. "What?" mumbled Hermione.

"Your hair smells like strawberries," Fred commented.

"And…"

"Well… um… I like strawberries."

"With cream or ice-cream?" Hermione asked.

"With chocolate ice-cream, like George and Ginny." Fred replied.

"You're crazy!" Hermione giggled. She was giggling a lot lately.

"Um, Hermione, I hate to burst your bubble but…" Fred laughed, "You are the one sitting in the gutter in the middle of a blizzard!" Hermione pulled Fred to his feet, and laughed. "C'mon," smiled Fred, "let's get you home."

Rule 4 - Don't date your best friend's brother!

Over the next two weeks, Fred and Hermione grew close. To Hermione, Draco was nothing more than a distant memory, and a bad one, too. She had thought she loved him, but the truth was he was just eye candy, a pretty-boy that made her look good. It was hard to admit, but Hermione never felt comfortable with him. Sure, he was cute and cool and a bit of a bad-boy, but she couldn't joke and tease and make stupid comments like she could when she was with Fred. Her and Fred were made for each other - she was his serious, down-to-earth, level-headed side; he was her crazy, wild, talkative side. Over Christmas, the pair declared that they were officially dating. Life was great: business was rocking, everyone was happy, and Hermione had finally gotten over Draco.

Hermione was so happy, but at the same time she was worried that it couldn't last. Business was a little too good; Fred was spending more and more time at work with George.

"So… what should I do?" Ginny had just been listening to Hermione's worries and to be perfectly truthful, this time she just didn't care. "Look Hermione, how many times have we had this conversation in the past three days?"

"Um…."

"16, Herms."

"Look, you know as well as anyone that Fred and George wanted to be successful. All my brothers did what it took. Mind you, I think our parent's super massive black hole of a debt was enough to snap us all to attention." Hermione squirmed uncomfortably. Her parents being dentists (and, therefore, in the medical field) meant that they had always been well off, but talking about money to Ginny just seemed rude.

"So…" Ginny continued. "I think you should stop fretting and be happy for them".

This made sense to Hermione. She thought she was just worrying over nothing, until on 27th of December, she went to visit the shop. It said 'Closed' on the sign, but the yelling inside told a different story. Hermione opened the door a crack, and gasped at what she saw.

Fred and George stood opposite each other, both scarlet in the face. "So!" roared George. "This could be the business offer of a lifetime, we could be millionaires, but Fred won't go because he'd rather stand about and make out with his girlfriend!"

"It's not like that!" Fred yelled back. "At least I like my girlfriend for who she is, not because she'll obey me like a lapdog… like Sharada!"

"Sharada was the one who suggested Australia…"

Hermione stopped listening. Fred and George were going Australia?!

There had always been an unwritten law that you should never date your best friend's brother, but for this Hermione thought that Ginny's over-achieving family had good reason.

***

"You're not going?"

"I don't think so"

Fred stood in Hermione's office; he was battling the tears in his eyes.

He wanted to go, but leaving Hermione hurt too much. This meant so much to him, Hermione could see that, but…

"Don't you have time to think?"

"If I say yes, we'll leave on New Year's day," Fred replied. "There isn't time. It's make or break."

"It's not fair on George, Fred, but I love you." Hermione whispered.

"I don't think I should…"

"Then stay."

The words were out of Hermione's mouth before she could stop them.

"Well, maybe I-"

"I JUST KNEW IT!"

The pair stopped and looked towards the doorway, where George stood with a face like thunder. "George!" Fred yelled. "Wait!"

. 'Yes,' thought Hermione. 'Don't date you best friend's brothers. Especially not when your friend's Ginny Weasley'. Things just got a whole lot more complicated.

Rule 5 - Make your decisions wisely

"Goodness!" laughed Luna. "I can hardly believe that it's almost 2003 already!"

"I know!" Ron, Harry, Ginny and Cho answered in unison. "Bring it on!", and everyone began to laugh. It was New Year's Eve, and The Burrow was decorated for a party. Streamers lined the walls and champagne bottles were lined up across the table. The tiny house was cramped with about 40 people and everyone was fighting for the room to breath. Ginny saw Hermione standing alone in the corner, and went and stood beside her. "So," she started. "Are you ready for the new year?" Hermione didn't reply for a while, so Ginny continued: "I know Harry's party was amazing for the millennium, but-"

"Do you know whether Fred and George have decided yet?" Hermione interrupted. "About Australia?"

"Well, no," Ginny answered slowly. "But they are here. You should be able to find out." Hermione looked across the packed lounge and spotted the back of the twin's head. "OK, thanks Ginny," Hermione said rapidly, and began pushing across the room. "Fred!" The twin didn't listen. "Fred!" She leant across and tapped the red-head on the shoulder. "Fred!" she cried.

"Um, Hermione…"

"What?"

"I'm George."

"Oh God! Where's Fred?" Hermione said urgently, shouting over the music.

"He's outside," George replied. "But you'd better hurry."

Without hesitating a second, Hermione ran for the door…

***

In the pale light of the house, Hermione saw Fred leaning against the fence. He heard her coming but didn't move. He waited until she was level with him and took her hands in his. "Hermione," he whispered softly. "I've made my decision."…

"So?" Hermione prompted, but Fred didn't listen. He looked up into Hermione's eyes and said: "Look, baby. It's almost midnight, and I don't want to start the New Year with you if I know I can't end it."

"What?" breathed Hermione.

"Look, baby," Fred started. "I want you to know that, whatever happens, I will always love you."

From the garden, Fred and Hermione heard the party stop, and everyone began to chant: "10, 9, 8..."

"Fred, I …" Hermione began to say, but Fred put his finger to her lips and shook his head. "4, 3, 2, 1... HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

Fred bent down and kissed her, and Hermione was sure that he had said "I'm sorry."

Hermione opened her eyes and stared in disappointment through the light of the fireworks, at the spot were Fred had once stood.

Rule 6 - Trust your instincts and follow your heart

It was a fresh January morning in the village of Ottery St. Catchpole, and the world was quiet and still. It was 7.10am, on the 5th January 2004. Two young red-haired twins stood on the edge of the lake, looking out across the scene of their childhood.

"No place like home, eh, Fred?" George laughed, and turned to the house. "You coming?"

"Just give me a minute." Fred stood on the edge of the shimmering stretch of water, glinting in the pale orange sunrise. He looked at his reflection on the mirror-like surface; freckly, pale… and somehow remembered the girl that he used to love. That he still loved.

Another reflection appeared beside his. Long toffee-brown curls, wide chocolate brown eyes, pale golden face. Her. Hermione.

"You came." She whispered.

"But why didn't you write?" quizzed Fred.

"I did!" cried Hermione, tears running down her face. " I've been writing for the past 369 days!"

Fred sighed, and put his arm around her.

"You came!" Hermione repeated, her face wet with tears but smiling all over.

"Yes I did," affirmed Fred. "Yes I did."

They stood close for another three minutes or so. Hermione looked up at Fred and laughed through her tears.

"Y'know," Fred mused. "When I was in Australia, I often wondered whether you'd get by."

"Oh, I did!" Hermione nodded. "And it's all thanks to these six simple rules..."