A/N: Dedicated to SilentFlame13, who's enthusiastic reviews encouraged me to post this chapter a little earlier than intended.


Hermione's POV

The trip to the ministry was rather uneventful. The forms had to be placed in a tray at reception, which seemed simple enough, but Hermione thought it rather amusing that the tray was overflowing with forms. She left hers, Harry's, Ginny's and Fred's forms neatly folded underneath the others so they wouldn't get lost.

She returned to the Burrow to find the whole family gathered at the kitchen table eating lunch. Hermione sat opposite Fred and helped herself to the food.

"Congratulations on the engagement, dear," Mrs Weasley said once Hermione took a bite of her food. "I'm so pleased to have you as part of the family."
Hermione nearly choked on her food when she swallowed quickly. "Oh, uh, it's not official yet, Mrs Weasley," Hermione coughed, her eyes watering.
"What? What's going on?" Ron asked through his own mouthful of meat. Hermione barely hid her wince.
"I chose Fred to be swapped to for the Marriage Law," Hermione said strongly, almost daring Ron to cause a ruckus about it.

The youngest male Weasley chewed his food slowly while he thought. "So that means that, if it goes through, Harry will be able to marry Ginny," Ron surmised. Hermione gave a stiff nod. "I wonder what they're gonna do with Katie Bell, then. Didn't you say Oliver was out of the country, Fred?"

And that was it. Ron obviously couldn't care less, and Hermione couldn't have been more pleased. Fred also seemed a bit surprised at Ron's acceptance but took it into his stride. They discussed the possibility of Katie also being exempt from the law, Ginny remarking on how amusing it would be if they partnered her up with Dean Thomas.

Lunch then passed without affair, the table much cheerier than they had been the day before. Mrs Weasley expressed her pleasure at having Hermione in the family once again, patting her cheek softly as the table emptied. As usual, Hermione's offer to help clear the table was denied, so she was left to do her own thing.

The others had decided to play a game of quidditch, so Hermione had the house to herself. Grabbing the first book she felt in her beaded bag, Hermione didn't look at the cover until she made herself comfortable in the sitting room.

The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

Hermione simply fiddled with the cover whilst she relived the memories of being in hiding, pouring over this book in hopes of finding something, anything that would help them. She remembered feeling hatred and disappointment towards Dumbledore. She felt the loneliness that had accompanied Hermione the last time she read this book.

Hermione also felt the joy that encompassed her entire body when she worked out Dumbledore's riddle, and the honour and pride that ran through her blood when she discovered Dumbledore left it in his will specifically for her. She could easily remember Ron's pride at knowing about something Hermione had never heard of. She could clearly recall the magic of reading wizarding fairy-tales for the first time, and could remember herself comparing them to muggle ones.

There were too many memories that accompanied this book, but Hermione didn't put it away. Instead, she opened to a random page and began reading.

Hermione was just finishing Babbity Rabbity and the Cackling Stump when she realised she had company.

"Wow. You really do go into your own little world when you read, don't you?" Fred asked from the armchair. Hermione blinked owlishly at him.
"It's not my world, Fred. It's theirs," Hermione said wistfully, gesturing to the book. "Books are entirely different worlds waiting to be explored. It's hard not to get caught up in them."
Fred observed Hermione carefully before speaking again. "You really mean that, don't you?" he realised. "You truly believe that reading is an escape and not a chore."
"Why would it be a chore?" Hermione replied with a smile.
"I guess I've just had bad experiences with books," he chuckled to himself. Hermione gave him a knowing look.
"That's what happens when the only books you touch are from the Restricted Section," she teased, closing her book and giving Fred her full attention. "What can I do for you?"

Fred lost his grin immediately, turning his head to look at the empty fireplace. "Do you think our applications will be accepted, 'Mione?" he asked quietly. "I don't know what I'm gonna do if they don't."
"You and me both, kid," Hermione quoted him. Fred's lips twitched.
"Hermione," Fred began seriously, "Are you sure you're okay with being paired with me? If it does go through, I mean."

Hermione took the time to think seriously about her answer. "I think that I got remarkably lucky having you as a willing option," Hermione said, looking at the threads of the tightly woven rug beneath her feet. "I'd much prefer you than Harry… or any other guy for that matter… so I suppose that makes you my first choice." Hermione inwardly winced at that last bit, and quickly rectified it. "I mean, not that I want to have to choose, but… Stop laughing, Fred, I'm trying to be sincere!"

Fred tried to compose himself appropriately. "It was a yes or no question, Hermione," Fred chuckled, making Hermione frown.
"Are you okay with being paired with me?" Hermione asked in return. Fred smirked.
"I think I got remarkably lucky," he mocked.
"Glad that's settled then."

The two lapsed into a comfortable silence. The empty fireplace was filled with ash, and Hermione had the sudden urge to light a large, warm fire there. A strange homesickness washed through her body for the Gryffindor common room, and for her own family's hearth. Hermione shook herself out of her reverie. Depression didn't suit her.

"Not interested in playing quidditch today?" Hermione asked Fred, clasping her hands in her lap. Fred grinned guiltily.
"No," he said simply. The sparkle in his eye and the curve of his lips made Hermione incredibly intrigued.
"What are you hiding?" she asked curiously. Fred suddenly appeared innocent.
"Well, besides the fact that I thought I should probably get used to talking to my future wife," he said, only wincing slightly at his words, "Which I assure you is an utmost priority, I may have upgraded Ron's broom a bit."
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "And by upgraded you mean…"
"Upgraded," Fred repeated firmly.
"Tampered with," Hermione countered.

At that moment, the back door swung open roughly, banging into the wall with such force it echoed throughout the room. Ron stormed inside with his broom in his hand, heading straight for Fred who was already laughing in his chair.

It wasn't until Ron had passed Hermione that she realised he was covered in bird poop.

"What have you done?" Ron fumed, towering over Fred. He was laughing too hard to answer, so Ron continued on his rant. "Turning the bristles purple when I'm flying? Conjuring pigeons whenever I swerve?"
"Thought it was quite a brilliant piece of magic, myself."

George came sauntering into the sitting room with Harry and Ginny behind him. He leaned against the door frame, sent a wink in Hermione's direction, and gave Ron his full attention.

"I thought it would brighten up your flight," Fred said as sincerely as he could manage, trying with visible effort not to smile. "The birds were supposed to sing, not poop."
Ron frowned deeply. "Well, they didn't," he said grumpily.
"Come to think of it, I didn't mean to conjure pigeons, either," Fred said thoughtfully. Ron rolled his eyes and thumped down on the couch beside Hermione.

"Let me clean you up," Hermione said immediately, getting out her wand. Ron turned around obediently, showing her the extent of the damage on his back. Hermione crinkled her nose.

"You need to work on your charm work, Fred," she said in distaste. With one last flick of her wand, Ron's back was clear from poop, and he didn't even smell bad. She allowed herself a satisfied grin before turning to give Fred a stern look. He looked amused.

"That's something you can help me improve on when we spend more time together," Fred said casually, turning horizontal in the armchair to rest his legs over the arm. He made the movement look graceful and comfortable, when Hermione would willingly bet anything that it wasn't.

"Why would you need to spend more time together?" Ron asked curiously.
"Because they're getting married, Ron," Ginny said impatiently, sitting in front of the dead fire. Harry sat next to Ron, smiling at Ginny softly.
"So?"
"So it's kind of important to know the person you're marrying before you marry them," Fred said with a roll of his eyes.
"But you've known each other since… Hermione, when did you first meet the family? Just before third year, right? That's like, pushing five years," Ron said slowly, doing the math on his fingers. Hermione smiled.
"Oh, Ron," she sighed, leaning into his shoulder. "Five years doesn't automatically equate to friendship."

Ron still looked confused, but he didn't push the subject any further. Harry had a mischievous grin on his face.
"Maybe you should, er, go get to know Lavender?" Harry suggested, clapping Ron on the back. Ron looked unconvinced.
"I dated her," he said unsurely, "isn't that alright? That's better than friendship."
"Honestly, Ronald, what's her favourite colour?" Ginny demanded. Realisation dawned on Ron's face.
"Perhaps I should go get to know her better," he said hurriedly. Ron nodded his goodbye and quickly left the room to apparate outside. George sniggered as Ron exited the room.
"Get to know her tongue, more like," he said quietly, making both Ginny and Hermione gag. Harry at least wore an amused smile and Fred high-fived his twin.

"So when are you next going into the shop?" Hermione asked Fred conversationally, looking into the kitchen. It was empty, so Hermione had a clear view of the window.
"Probably in a couple days," Fred said, looking to his twin to confirm. "Need to get this marriage rubbish sorted with first."

Hermione vaguely nodded her head and Harry took up the conversation, reminding them of his offer to fund the products… or the opening... whatever it was, it wasn't important enough to occupy Hermione's mind. There was something heading towards the window.

It seemed everything went into slow motion as Hermione stood, ignoring Harry's questioning. Hermione's mind was focused on one thing and one thing only.

Surely it wouldn't be a letter from the ministry? She'd only dropped the forms off that morning, after all. Hermione was at the kitchen table when four letters flew through the window. Either her eyes were deceiving her or they really were there in front of her.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, but she needn't say anything louder for he was right behind her, ready to support her. She reached out for the letter with her name on it with shaking hands.

"The letters are here!" Ginny shrieked.