Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: Just so you know, this story will not comply in any possible way with Deathly Hallows. It's firmly AU after HBP, and I'm not going to change a thing. Also, I still have no clue what is going on here. I'm stumbling in the dark… though I think I may be inadvertently creating a sort of plot… strange how that happens.

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After breakfast Hermione flooed directly to the twins' flat to put her plan into motion. She found Fred passed out on the couch, a half-empty bottle of firewhiskey at his side. Poor Fred obviously wasn't used to fighting with Angelina. She hoped for his sake that they had a hangover potion handy. She peeked her head into George's room, but as she suspected, he wasn't there. She found him behind the till in the shop attempting to balance the books. Or at least she assumed that was what he was doing with a quill in one hand, and the other busy tearing out his hair.

"Morning!" she called cheerfully.

George started, and then smiled widely. "Morning, love," he said, dropping a kiss onto her cheek. "I didn't expect to see you so soon."

"I needed to talk to you about something."

He shut the book, and looked at her apprehensively. "Is it about us?"

"No, no!" Hermione reassured him. "Well, yes, I suppose it is. But nothing bad!"

His relieved smile said it all. "Okay then, what is it?"

"I was thinking about getting my own flat."

"You were?"

"Well," she said awkwardly, "there's really no where for me to be, really. I don't want to be at my parent's house in the Muggle world. Hogwarts isn't going to reopen. I feel like I'm imposing at the Burrow, and Harry has planned to move in with Professor Lupin at Grimmauld Place… there's nothing left for me to do." She hated the feeling of uselessness that had settled over her. No amount of book reading or spell casting would prepare any of them for the final battle, not any more than they already were. If there was one thing Hermione hated it was feeling useless, and this, hopefully, would serve the purpose of being helpful in the war effort and give her that freedom that she so longed for.

"You've earned a bit of a break, I think," he said, thumbs rubbing circles on her shoulders.

Here was the part she was least looking forward to. "But the thing is, that I don't have the money for rent. I have a little saved up, but it won't last long…"

"Ahhh…" he smiled as he caught on. "You want me to give you a job."

"I was hoping."

"Are you sure you want to work in a joke shop, Hermione?" he asked in teasing solemn tone. "After all, you'll be contributing to the delinquency of many Hogwarts students. All of them breaking countless rules… when the school reopens, anyhow."

She cast him a wry glance, and pushed back into her campaign. "I can work the till—"

"Verity works the till."

"I can stock the shop, or clean up after closing—"

"We've got charms that do that."

"I'm good at charms! I can help you and Fred spell products—"

"No," he said, his face serious. She felt a twinge of panic.

"George, please, I know you can use the help—"

"No," he said, "I think we'll need you in a more active role." He locked his hands behind her waist and smirked.

She was instantly wary. "How active?"

"Product development. I want you to put your lovely, rule-abiding mind to creating new items that will help all the little kiddies at Hogwarts break them. I assume you know what the rules are."

She felt a wave of relief and giddiness. "Yes, I know what they are. I even helped put a few new ones on the books while I was there."

"I'm sure you did."

"I thought I could help with your defensive products too. I've got some ideas, and I'd really like to do something for the war effort."

George tipped his head to the side and smiled softly at her. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

Victory was close at hand. There was just one thing— "Do you think Fred will go for it?"

"I know he will. We've talked about ways to convince you to come work for us after Hogwarts. Never thought we had a real chance though."

She grinned. "Really?"

"Now you're just fishing."

She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. George Weasley, her knight in shining armor, armed with dung bombs. He kissed her deeply.

"Want to go flat hunting with me?"

"Are you sure you don't want to move in here?" he asked teasingly. "My bed is definitely big enough for two."

She just shook her head and smiled. The idea had merit, but at this point she wanted to give living alone a try.

George unearthed a recent edition of the Daily Prophet, and the two of them read the classifieds together, trying to suss out what exactly 'nicely appointed' meant in realtor speak.

With George's help, Hermione found a smallish studio in her price range (dirt cheap) with a nice view of Diagon Alley. And as if that wasn't enough, it was located above Flourish and Blotts. The bookstore owners themselves were letting it. When the elderly couple realized that it was Hermione (one of their best customers) who wanted the flat, they immediately told her that it was hers, and that if she promised to get the twins to stop enchanting their awnings to flash different colors, she would get a thirty percent discount on any purchases she made while renting from them.

George protested, "Oh, but Mr. Blott! It's such an attention grabber!"

"This is a bookstore, Weasley, not a circus."

George looked unperturbed, and sighed theatrically.

"So, love," Mrs. Blott asked Hermione, "Where will you be working?"

"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," Hermione said, shrugging her shoulders in a, 'what are you gonna do?' gesture. She bit her lip and smiled winningly at the older woman, and hoped that the deal wasn't off.

"Oh, you poor dear. If they run you ragged with their jokes we could get you a part time position here."

Hermione laughed, while George looked slightly put out, and thanked Mrs. Blott.

George left Hermione to open up the shop, but not before they had hooked her flat up to the Floo Network, and heavily warded her new home. Hermione even went so far as to become her own secret keeper.

Hermione apparated over to her parent's house to have lunch, and explain her new living situation (much to her parent's chagrin, she was an adult in the wizarding world), and to shrink down her bedroom furniture as well as an old sofa and a couple end tables that her parents no longer wanted. A few handy transfigurations later, and Hermione had her flat just the way she wanted. Bright white walls, with bright white furniture with accents of deep blues everywhere. She sat in the center of her (now queen sized) bed and looked around, feeling giddy and rather impressed with herself.

She spent nearly an hour looking out the windows down onto Diagon Alley, running her fingers lovingly over her pretty new things, and alphabetizing her books (by subject and author), until she couldn't rationalize doing it any longer. She would have plenty of time to enjoy her new space (which was all her own!) later, but now she had to explain her actions to Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Harry, and Ginny.

Back at the Burrow, Hermione cornered Ginny and told her what she'd done.

Ginny's mouth hung open for a moment after she'd finished, and she finally said, "My mum is going to kill you."

Hermione cringed.

"Well, not kill kill, but she will positively drown you in guilt. She's still doing it to Harry, and he's moving in with Remus. At Headquarters."

"My flat is just as well protected as Headquarters."

"Fidelius Charm?" At Hermione's nod, Ginny whistled. "Impressive." Ginny cast Hermione a sly look and said, "Tell me the truth, Hermione. Moving into your own flat is just so you can shag my brother with impunity, right?"

"Ginny!"

"Oh, don't bother. Your face says it all."

Hermione blushed hard and aimed a pinch at Ginny's arm. She was knocked away and pulled into a hug. "I'm gonna miss having you here."

"You can visit all the time! I'll transfigure a bed for you!"

"When George isn't over anyway."

"Oh, stop."

"Come on," Ginny said, as she linked arms with Hermione, "let's go tell Ron and Harry the good news. I think they're in Ron's room."

Telling the boys went about as well as could be expected. Harry seemed thrilled, and somewhat anxious for her working in the joke shop. Ron had a twinge of jealousy, but covered nicely. Hermione gave them all the address and the name to call to access her floo.

"Don't say a word about you and George," Ginny warned Hermione, who was on her way downstairs to explain things to Mrs. Weasley. "She'll see right through you."

"I didn't do it for George!"

Ginny just raised an eyebrow, and poked Hermione in the back. Hermione shot a glare at her friend as she dropped her trunk near the fire. The noise brought Molly into the living room. Hermione swallowed, and braced herself for the worst.

"Hermione, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, with a worried glance at her trunk, "are you going somewhere?"

"Mrs. Weasley, I got my own flat today."

"What? But—"

"I just thought it was time to get my own place."

Mrs. Weasley's mouth was hanging open, and Ginny was right, because with just that look Hermione felt like she was sinking in guilt.

She rushed to get the words out, "I got a job working at the twins shop, so I can afford it. And it's above the bookshop. I've already warded it. I'm my own secret keeper, so it's completely safe. I've talked to my parents, and they're fine with it. I'll come round all the time, and… and…" Words failed her. Molly looked like she was going to cry.

"But, sweetheart, what will you eat? Can you cook? You're thin enough as it is."

"I… well…"

Mrs. Weasley brought her into a crushing hug. "It's alright, dear. You can come here for all the meals you like, and when you have some free time I'll teach you."

Hermione sighed gratefully, and hugged Molly back. She wasn't so much thrilled about the cooking lessons, but the threat of tears had passed. "Thank you Mrs. Weasley."

"Any time, dear." Molly pulled away, and brushed all remnants of tears away. "I daresay George will be happy to have you all to himself. I thought for a moment you had moved in with the twins."

An ice cube had fallen into Hermione's stomach. "Oh, I didn't—I'm not—"

Molly pierced her with a knowing stare. "Don't think I don't know where you were last night." Molly pointed to the family clock on the wall, and Hermione noticed with a horrified, yet warm fuzzy feeling, that she now had her own hand on the clock.

Hermione turned back to the scariest woman she knew, and said uselessly, "Oh, Mrs. Weasley, I—"

But Molly surprised her yet again and squeezed her arms. "I think you'll be good for him."

Hermione didn't know quite what to say, as the approval shining in Molly's eyes meant everything to her.

"Now, don't you go telling George that I know," Molly said with a conspiratorial grin. "I'd like to make him sweat a bit."

She giggled a little, feeling like she'd run the gamut of emotions in just moments. Molly hugged her once more. "You go ahead and unpack your things, but come back for dinner!"

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley."

A few moments later, Hermione sat on her sofa in a state of slight shock. There was no way this had all gone as well as it had. It was just inconceivable. Molly had let her go without a fight at all, had given her blessing to Hermione's new relationship with George… Hermione then realized what a long day she'd had, but there was no time for a nap. If she put her head down she would miss dinner, and Hermione wasn't about to tempt Molly's good will.

Her fire glowed green and George stepped out, looking around her transformed flat with wide eyes.

"This looks fantastic!" he said. "You work fast."

"You wouldn't believe the day I've had," Hermione said.

George flopped down on the sofa beside her. "Come here and tell your boyfriend all about it."

Her boyfriend… Hermione smiled happily and leaned against him, wrapping her arm around his stomach. When she'd finished her tale, George said, "Wait, you are sure that you talked to my mum? Not to some easy-going imposter?"

She laughed, "I'm just as surprised as you are. I was sure she would take my trunk and hide it from me, and then lock me up until I saw sense."

"That's exactly how I saw it going too, only with lots of yelling. There must be something wrong with her… I'll keep a close eye on her at dinner…"

Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that Molly's behavior had a lot to do with one of her 'wild' children getting a 'nice' girlfriend. She probably had visions of grandbabies clouding her eyes. Hermione shivered and hoped that wasn't the case.

At dinner that night, Arthur dropped what was to turn out to be a bombshell.

"Due to Hogwarts being closed this year, the Ministry has started an internship programme."

"What's that Dad?" Ron asked.

"Students who have completed their OWL's can apply for selection. You'd be working in whatever department that was chosen for you, following around Ministry employees, learning the ropes—"

"Fetching them coffee," Fred added.

"Who would want to do that?" Ron asked.

"You would Ron," Arthur smiled. "You've already been accepted."

"What? You put my name in?"

"You'll be working in the Department for Magical Transportation."

"But Dad, I don't want to do—"

"Of course you do. You're in the Order, and this is your new mission."

Ron looked absolutely bewildered, so Hermione said, "You'll be spying, Ron!"

"Spying?"

"Of course! As an intern you'll have access to just about everything, but everyone will overlook you! It's brilliant, really."

"Really, Dad?" Ron asked, a smile creeping over his face. "I'll be a spy?"

"Yes. You'll need to be on the lookout for any employees in your department who are acting strangely, as if they're under the Imperius curse, as well as any strange activity. Mad Eye is going to be sending you an owl with the particulars. They're likely to shunt you around a lot, so be sure that you pay close attention to everything, but of course don't be obvious about it."

"Course," Ron said, grinning widely now. "Ace. I'm a spy."

"Neville Longbottom has also been accepted, though I'm not sure in what department. I believe Luna Lovegood is doing it as well. And Hermione, I'm sorry, I tried to get your name in, but you can see that there's obviously someone controlling the selection process."

"What do you mean, Dad?"

"You, Neville, and Luna are all purebloods, Ron."

"Oh."

"It's all right, Mr. Weasley," said Hermione. "I've already set up a job."

"Yep," Fred said smugly, "We've already got Granger, Dad. And the Ministry can't have her. She's going to make us a bundle."

George smiled fondly at her. Mrs. Weasley gave her son a raised eyebrow, which made George look at his mother in alarm. Hermione hid a smile behind her hand.

"Wait," Ginny said, putting on her best indignant-hurt face, "what about me? Why didn't you get me a job, Dad?"

"Absolutely not," said Mrs. Weasley.

"But Luna's doing it too! She's in my year!"

"If Luna's father thinks it's sensible," Molly made it very clear that she did not think it was anything close to sensible, "to allow his underage daughter to work as a spy in the Ministry then that is Mr. Lovegood's prerogative! Don't think that we'll be following the Lovegood's example!"

"But Mum, you know that I've been going crazy here doing nothing! I don't like sitting around and not helping! I have just as much right to help as anyone at this table!"

"It's too dangerous, Ginny! It's not safe at the Ministry right now. I won't allow you to be put in danger!"

"So what am I supposed to do, Mum? Just sit here cooped up in this house until the blasted war is over? That could be years! It's not like I'm any safer here! My clock hand is on 'Mortal Peril' too!"

"Ginny!"

Wheels turned quickly in Hermione's mind… what if… She looked at Fred and George, who were watching the argument with wide (and proud) eyes. She nudged George.

"What?" he hissed.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, attempting to convey her message without drawing attention to herself. He shook his head, frowning. Hermione turned to Ginny and then back to George and then to Fred. George got it and shook his head vehemently. Hermione raised her eyebrows, a silent plea and a dare. He scowled at her, huffed, and kicked Fred under the table. A similar silent conversation passed between the twins, and one quiet game of rock, paper, scissors later—

"Mum," George said, with a quick glance at Hermione to say that she'd pay for this, "what if Ginny was to work at the shop?"

"What?" Molly's voice was dangerous.

Ginny had a look of wild hope on her face.

"The shop is safe as can be. No one can get in if they have the wrong intentions. No one can even get near the place if they're a Death Eater. She'd be safe there."

Mrs. Weasley glowered at her son, so Fred stepped in. "Mum, we'd keep her safe. And then she'd be able to help. You know she'd just get herself into trouble otherwise, if she went looking for it." Ginny was not pleased by that comment, but she wisely kept quiet.

"Oh, Mum, please."

Molly looked rather defeated and turned to her husband. "Arthur?"

"Well, the shop is well protected, Molly."

"All right," Mrs. Weasley said. Ginny's face lit up. "But you are not to leave the shop! I don't want you wandering about Diagon Alley! It's the floo from here to there every day."

Ginny flew around the table and hugged her mother tightly. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" And then she was wrapping her arms around each of the twins in turn. "Best brother's ever!" she proclaimed happily. Fred and George looked around the table smugly, as if the whole thing was their idea.

After dinner, Ginny told Hermione that she had a book to return to her, so the girls went up to Ginny's room.

"I know you did this, but I figured you wouldn't want Mum give you the evil eye, so—" and Ginny hugged her. "Thank you so much Hermione! If I haven't said it before, I'm so glad that you're dating my brother!"

"Don't thank me just yet," Hermione said with a sly smile. "Now you can be their new guinea pig."

"This is going to be brilliant!" Ginny said, brushing off the comment. "Oh, Merlin! I can't wait to get out of this house! What do you think I should wear to work?"

"Something comfortable, I imagine. You know we're going to have to wear those awful magenta robes."

"Oh, gods." Ginny looked like she might be reconsidering the whole thing. "Those clash horribly with my hair."

The two girls shared a look and started giggling.

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A/N: Reviews make me happy and get my muse to cooperate… so do it. :)