Hermione laid awake on the camp bed in Ginny's room, her hands resting behind her head and she stared at a poster of the Holyhead Harpies that was barely visible in the dark room. She had just arrived at the burrow earlier that evening. She had fallen asleep rather easily after the large dinner Mrs. Weasley prepared, but woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't seem to get back to sleep. Her mind kept tracing back to things she refused to think about.

She really enjoyed the week that she had spent with her parents, but she had really been looking forward to going to the Weasleys' house. This thought made her feel depressed and guilty. She loved her parents dearly, but much like Harry, she felt that Hogwarts was her home and the Burrow really felt like a second home - a second family.

She felt that she was almost officially accepted into the Weasley family when she received her first Weasley sweater just this last Christmas. It meant so much to her that Mrs. Weasley had thought of her like that. She was such a sweet, funny woman. Even when she was angry and shouting there was love hidden underneath it all. Mr. Weasley was even funnier when Mrs. Weasley was angry, as he tried to keep out of her path. He was such a kind and curious man. Dinner had been wonderful. Mrs. Weasley had outdone herself, as usual; the table spread was almost as full as Hogwarts and the kitchen was packed with hungry diners. Everyone was talking animatedly in their separate conversations. The ministry, Quidditch, homework, past dinners, and, of course, muggle objects were some of the few subjects flying around the table that evening. In most places, it's considered rude to talk with your mouth full, and although Mrs. Weasley insisted the same applied here, it actually seemed more rude to halt a conversation just to chew.

Ginny, Harry, and Ron sat arguing for some time about teams for two-on-two Quidditch in the orchard the next day. Hermione began wondering who actually won the fight. Her mind floated to Fred and George who were huddled together at one point, discussing the future of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

Hermione let out a long quiet sigh. No matter how she tried anymore, she just couldn't stop thinking about Fred and a familiar daydream kept playing over in her head. She had taken a daydream charm the week before as she was lying in her bed at her parents' house. It had, once again, been about Fred, but it wasn't just an innocent conversation and hand holding like her previous daydreams. It had felt so real, too. His soft lips against hers, his arms around her waist, and the way his hair felt as she ran her fingers through it. She shook her head to shake the thoughts from her mind.

A squeak of a stair outside the door startled her. For the tiniest moment, she tried to pretend it was her imagination, but then she heard it again. She quietly rose from her cot and walked to the door. She opened it without a sound and looked down the long staircase.

"Fred?" She whispered.

His head snapped around and he didn't allow himself to breathe again until he saw Hermione. He chuckled silently. "What are you doing?" he whispered.

"I was going to ask you the same thing," she responded.

"I'm just going for a walk."

"D-do you mind if I come?"

His smile was blinding even in the dark. "Get dressed and meet me in the kitchen."

Hermione dressed quickly and quietly and crept silently downstairs. Fred opened the kitchen door for her and led her across the garden and up the hill to the orchard. The sky was still very dark and the stars were visible, but there was a certain brightness that indicated the coming of morning. They didn't speak until they were well away from the house.

"What time is it?" Hermione asked.

"Just after five," Fred replied.

"You never struck me as the type to go out for an early morning walk." Hermione shivered as a cool breeze seemed to flow right through the thin material of her long sleeved shirt. As the days were warming up nicely, she hadn't anticipated how cold it would be this early.

Without a word, Fred removed his cloak and wrapped it around Hermione.

"But..." Hermione started.

"I have a jumper on. I'm fine," Fred interrupted. "And actually, I love taking morning walks. George is the only one who actually knows. I always sneak back in before anyone is up and then I have a bit of lie-in until Mum's shouts become too loud to sleep through."

"Where are we going?" She had assumed that he would be going to the clearing where they played Quidditch, but he was veering to the right, out of the orchard. The ground sloped down a large heavily-wooded hill.

"Not far now."

Only a few minutes later, the wood opened up to reveal a large pond. It's glassy surface shined peacefully undisturbed in the dark morning. He grabbed her hand and led her around the pond to a large lone willow on the north bank.

"This is my spot," Fred declared as he stared out over the pond. "This is my escape from the world."

"It's wonderful," Hermione replied.

"I miss it when I'm away at school. So when holidays come, I like to get out here as often as I can. It's the perfect place to get away." He picked up a smooth flat stone and skipped it across the smooth surface of the pond. "When I was younger, it was nearly impossible to get some time and space alone. The house was always so crowded. And I never even had a room of my own to escape to, not that I often tried to escape George. But every now and then, I just liked to get away."

"I imagine," said Hermione. "I never experienced that as a child though. It was only ever me and my parents. I didn't have many friends, so I spent most of my time in my room. That's when I realized what companions books can be. As long as I have a book, I have a friend wherever I go."

"You won't tell anyone about me coming out here, will you?"

"Not if you don't want me to..." Hermione pondered the request. "Why would you care though?"

"People will just look at me funny, my family especially. People just see me a certain way, I guess. You said yourself that I didn't seem like the type to take an early morning walk. They think I'm just a goofy, lazy, prankster - and let's face it, I am. But there's more to me than that." He picked up another rock and it skipped gracefully across the pond. "Sometimes I just act the part because people only think I'm goofing around when I'm actually serious."

"Yeah, It's hard... being stereotyped."

Fred realized that she spoke from experience. After all, she was just considered a goody two-shoes, know-it-all.

"You don't have to act the part for me."

"I know. That's part of why I love being with you." Fred stepped away from the pond and sat against the tree where Hermione quietly joined him.

"I'm sorry if I ever judged you," Hermione apologized quietly.

"Likewise," Fred stared into her face and gently smoothed her cheek with the back of his fingers. She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder.

They silently watched the wildlife begin to wake and stir. The sky slowly became lighter and the stars faded one by one. Eventually they had to break away from their peaceful existence and return to the house before anyone else awoke.