A/N: I made a mistake in the last chapter, so just to clarify the Weasley's, Hermione, and Harry are still at 12 Grimmuald place while the Burrow is being re-built. They've been there for about a week-and-a-half and are moving back at the end of this week.

Thanks for the reviews and voting (all 7 of you, haha).

By the end of the day, Hermione arrives back at 12 Grimmauld completely exhausted. Her boss is nice enough but there's so much about the department to learn! She's extremely excited about her work but it's a bit overwhelming for her at the moment.

With a sigh of relief, she enters the living room to find the twins, Ron, and Harry all relaxing.

She sets down her purse and coat and smiles at the current conversation.

"We're not saying there's anything wrong with it, mate. Right, George?"

"Yeah, it's just an idea."

Ron and Harry wear similarly disgusted expressions on their faces. "You two are twisted, y'know that?" Ron states as he shakes his head.

"What are we talking about?" Hermione sits down next to Harry on the couch and he almost throws himself at her in relief.

"HERMIONE!"

"Um, yes? Are you okay, Harry?"

"Fine. Just fine. Bloody great, actually."

She raises an eyebrow and looks at the snickering twins, wondering what on Earth they've been talking about.

George answers her question when he pipes up. "We were just telling Harry and Ron that we're open-minded blokes. So, if they can't find a date to the auror graduation party, as they're starting training soon and Ginny will be at school and Parvarti might be working, they can always go together."

"As a couple," Fred chortles.

Ron and Harry both turn quite a distinct shade of red. "Ignore them, Mione. They're crazy."

"Aw, Ron. There's no point in denying the strong feelings you're hiding for Harry. S'okay. We still love you."

"Yeah. I bet you two can even get even re-petition to be each other's new partners. Course we'd kill you for hurting Ginny like that, Harry-"

"Y'mean that Ginny will kill Harry, brother. We'll just enjoy the show."

"Ah, right."

Hermione shakes her head in bewilderment; sometimes she wonders how the twins' minds work.

Fred turns toward her then from his position next to George on the couch. "So, how was the first day, love?"

"It was great! It's a little overwhelming but I enjoyed it. You wouldn't believe the connections the ministry has. There are over 200 countries that the department is in regular contact with and it's absolutely fascinating..."

She keeps explaining her job but stops when Ron gives a loud yawn and she sees Harry's glazed over expression. In fact, Fred is the only one still paying attention to her because George is concentrated on trying to poke Ron with his wand without Ron realizing it.

"It was great," she finishes lamely, wishing her friends shared her enthusiasm for these things.

To her surprise, Fred gets up and pulls her in a hug. "I'm glad, Hermione. It sounds wonderful." He gives her a noisy kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks."

"A-hem." They both look up to find Ron glaring at them.

"Oh, honestly, Ron! Don't give me that! You're the one who wanted to break up!" Sometimes she wonders if things will ever be less tense between them. Lately, their relationship has been okay, but tense moments like these still seem to crop up.

He's prevented from retorting because Mrs. Weasley calls them to dinner.

At dinner that night, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley announce that the Burrow is almost completely restored and they should be able to move back in on Saturday. Everyone gives a collective sigh of relief because nearly two weeks in this house has been driving them insane. In fact, the portrait of Mrs. Black has found many a hex aimed at it recently.

Hermione spends Tuesday and Wednesday becoming acquainted with her new job. So far, she loves it. In fact, she's so absorbed with her job, that it's not until Thursday that she realizes someone has been following her.

She usually walks to the Ministry worker entrance (still, unfortunately, located in those disgusting bathrooms) from Grimmauld place. The MOM is too far to apparate directly to, so she really doesn't have a choice. With the recent sunny, September weather, though, she doesn't mind walking.

When Hermione comes home from work, she walks to a location close enough to apparate onto the front stoop of Harry's house, so as not to give away the house's location accidentally. They had to assign a new secret keeper after they gave away the house's location to a death eater during the war. Luckily, he died but they still don't know if he told anyone. So far, no one's been able to break the new wards or attempted to get in.

On that sunny Thursday, she's walking back from work, when she stops to tie her shoe. She's in a quiet part of town, so she's surprised when she realizes the footsteps behind her stop. Her brow furrows, but she shrugs it off, sure she's imagining things. The same thing happened yesterday, but surely not...

Just to check, Hermione pauses casually near a street corner as she pretends to tie her other shoe. The footsteps stop again. On the pretense of fixing her makeup, she pulls out a small compact mirror and uses it to glance behind her. A figure stands in the shadow of a nearby house. The hair on her neck stands up and she knows:

She's being followed.

She quietly withdraws her wand from her bag when she puts the mirror back inside. Then, quick as a wink, she turns on the spot and apparates to Grimmauld place.

Luckily for her, she was close enough to apparate. She doesn't know how she would have shaken him off otherwise.

She bursts into the house, slams the door shut, and leans against it, taking a shaky breath.

"Hermione? Are you okay?" She glances up to find Mr. Weasley standing there, hanging up his hat. He must have just arrived home from work as well. They normally have such different hours that they don't walk together. In fact, she's surprised he's home so early.

"I-I...I was being followed."

His face darkens. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes."

"FAMILY MEETING!" His bellowing voice makes her jump slightly and she follows him into the comfy parlor, where everyone usually spends evenings together.

Footsteps thunder down the stairs above them as the others soon arrive.

"What is it, dear? Is everything okay?"

"What's wrong?"

"What'd you do now, Ron?"

"ME? What about you two?"

"It wasn't us-"

"Yeah, we're too mature for silly pranks."

"Arthur! What's wrong?"

"Molly, it's-"

"Mature? You turned Harry's hair purple yesterday! Took him two hours to get it back to normal!"

"Well, if those two had listened in Transfiguration, Percy, then-"

"ENOUGH!" Everyone stops talking at once and looks at Mr. Weasley. "Enough. Everyone sit down please."

It's then that everyone notices a white-faced Hermione.

"What's wrong, Hermione?"

"You okay, love?"

"Do I need to hex someone?"

"Do we all need to hex someone?"

"Or Ron. We're not fussy, really." The last one was Fred, of course.

"Boys!" The twins stop talking and sheepishly nod at their dad before sitting down on either side of her on the couch. Fred puts his arm on her shoulder to comfort her.

"Hermione just arrived home from the ministry and informed me that she was followed." At the announcement, Hermione feels Fred's arm protectively pulling her closer.

Another series of exclamations follows this, but a stern look from Mrs. Weasley shuts everyone up again.

"I didn't see his face, but I was definitely being followed. I had the feeling that I was yesterday too, but I thought I was imagining things. Now I know for sure."

"Oh, Arthur. What are we going to do?"

"Well, for start, I'll walk with Hermione to and from work. Hermione, when walking, you must keep your wand out. In the meantime, I'll see about connecting our fireplace to the Ministry's floo network. I also think that whenever someone goes out, they should have at least one other person with them, if they're not apparating or flooing directly to the location. Is that clear?"

"I can see about the floo, Dad," Percy states importantly.

Everyone ignores Percy and murmurs his or her assent, while Hermione attempts to push back a feeling of guilt for inconveniencing everyone.

After dinner, she retreats to her room to relax and maybe read-up more on her departmental regulations. As a result, she's so absorbed in her work that she doesn't hear Fred come into the room.

"Hermione?"

"Oh! Hi Fred." She reluctantly closes her book and sets it aside, crossing her legs Indian-style on her bed and facing him.

He sits down next to her and sighs heavily. "Hermione?"

"Yes? What's wrong?"

Just say it, you twat. It's not that bloody difficult, he thinks. "Er...well..."

"Just spit it out," she squeezes his hand.

"Um... Just be careful, okay?" Coward, he berates himself.

"Okay..."

You're a Gryffindor, he reminds himself firmly before bursting out. "Idon'tknowwhatI'd-"

"What?"

"Oh, sorry. It's just that I don't know what I'd do if you...well, if something happened to you." Well that was smooth. Fred Weasley winces slightly; he's never been good at expressing his true emotions with birds he really cares about. Joking is easy, this isn't.

She blushes slightly and leans forward to gently kiss him on the lips. "That is the sweetest thing you have ever said to me, Fred Weasley."

"Even beats the time where I told you your hair looked like a bird's nest in fifth year?"

"Oh, shut up." She laughs slightly but smiles when he whispers, "Was just kidding, anyway, love. Your hair is beautiful."

"Thank you."

"Well, now that I've buttered you up. Want to go on a date again sometime soon?"

With a laugh, she assents.

"Good. By the way, I also wanted to show you something. It's a new product for our joke shop."

"What is it?"

He stands up and pulls something from his pockets with a flourish, keeping the object hidden by his hands.

Slowly, he opens up his hands and she raises an eyebrow. "Like it?"

"What is it exactly?"

"Now, Hermione, I'm hurt. You still don't know? It's called 'Heavenly Head'. Makes your head swell to three times its size."

She feels her face turning red at the name and wonders if he realizes... "Um, Fred. You do realize that people could, um, mistake that name for something, uh, else?"

"Huh?" He looks bewildered and then an evil grin dawns on his face, even as his ears redden slightly. "Why, Hermione. Never knew you were so naughty."

"I am not!"

"Sure, Sure. Guess we'll have to use George's name them. He calls them 'Swelling Candies'. You just pop the candy in your mouth and viola! Bloody brilliant, right?"

She smiles. "It is. But don't you dare try it out on me."

"I wouldn't do that, love." He winks and she just shakes her head.

"Goodnight, Fred."

"Goodnight, Hermione." He catches her off-guard as he leans forward and gently captures her lips in his own. With a moan that surprises them both, Hermione wraps her arms around his neck and leans into him, enthusiastically kissing them back. It has been way too long since they've done this.

"Fred?" They're not sure how long it's been; maybe seconds, maybe longer, but the sound of George's voice breaks them out of their own world and they pull back from each other, hastily straightening their clothes.

His face peers into the room and he assesses the situation with a glance. "Been busy in here?"

"Cute, George. Real cute."

"Comes naturally to me, dear twin, not that you'd know what it's like."

Fred rolls his eyes and drops a kiss on her forehead before leaving the room. Hermione flops down on the bed with a sigh, glad for once that Ginny isn't here to tease her about her suddenly flushed face.

That Friday, Mr. Weasley walks with her to the Ministry of Magic, and he too notices their stalker.

"Definitely being followed, Hermione. Just stay calm."

"I am calm, Mr. Weasley," she states, looking at him apprehensively as he grips his wand so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

"Right, right."

They arrive at the Ministry workers' entrance without a problem, however, and he arranges to meet her there at exactly five o'clock.

After work, she waits for him patiently, looking at her watch ever-so-often. When it's fifteen after and he still hasn't arrived, she huffs impatiently and decides to walk home herself. She'll be fine. Her creepy friend hasn't done anything yet so he probably won't now.

He's still there, she notes, as she begins to walk and realizes she's being followed. She holds her wand in her hand and prays that he'll leave her alone.

Surely, he won't try anything in broad daylight.

With a sigh of relief, she realizes she's almost to the spot where she can apparate home, when a hand suddenly grabs her right wrist.

"What the-?"

She's twisted around to see...nothing. The stranger is wearing a mask.

"What are you-?" She doesn't have a chance to fight as her wand is wrenched from her and the stranger turns on the spot, refusing to let her go.

After apparating, the stranger pulls a rope out of his pocket and ties her arms behind her back, before pushing her roughly against the wall, his hand on her shoulder as he points his wand in her face.

"Who do you think you are? What are you doing?"

He doesn't respond and she takes that moment to realize she's in a dark alleyway somewhere, hopefully still in London.

She realizes that he's using his other hand to take off his mask.

Then, she chokes back a shout as she stares at his revealed face.

This cannot be happening.