There were very few things that haunted Hermione's nightmares. In fact, for the most part, she had relatively good dreams. Any bad ones usually involved a poor grade, or very occasionally a Death Eater. Never anything too serious.

But now, she had something that truly terrified her that kept popping up in her dreams.

It was happening on a weekly basis, sometimes even more often than that. It was the face of a very disappointed and upset Molly Weasley, hands on her hips while Hermione sat at the kitchen table and apologized for sneaking out. She kept reliving the horrible, cringe-worthy awkward experience over and over when she went to sleep, with various one-liners from the long lecture she'd given.

"Give me one good reason not to write your parents this instant and tell them what you've been up to this summer!"

"What if something had happened to you? Do you want me to have that on my conscience, that you were hurt or killed when you were supposed to be under my careful supervision?"

"Hermione, you are sixteen years old and much too young to be spending the night with a boy!"

"Oh, don't give me that, I know that Ron and Harry are boys. You know what I mean."

"I'm not mad, certainly not. But I hope you know that I am very disappointed. You've always been such a good girl, Hermione."

Hermione was sure these dreams were proof she was suffering from some sort of post-traumatic stress disorder. Mrs. Weasley could have that effect on someone when she wanted to.

On the first of October, Filch approached Hermione at lunch with an expression of obvious dislike on his face. He was clutching a clumsily-rewrapped parcel, which he halfway handed to her before withdrawing it again. "Maybe I didn't check it thoroughly enough," he growled to himself.

"What is it?" she asked interestedly. Who could have sent her something that Filch saw as worth investigating?

"Must be your birthday present from Fred," said Ginny sagely.

Filch turned his untrusting eyes to her. "Are you in on this?" he snarled.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Yes, actually. I helped him pick it out. You've had plenty of time to ensure that it isn't laced with dungbombs, and this lovely lady's birthday has long since passed, so would you please hand over her present? Surely you have something more pressing to do than try to get my brothers in trouble. My brothers who, incidentally, aren't even students here anymore." She spoke sweetly, but her eyes were threatening.

He thrust it at Hermione before stalking off, muttering about trouble-makers and good-for-nothings. "Thanks," Hermione said. "My birthday was almost two weeks ago..."

Ginny nodded. "I know. He's been keeping mail from Fred and George for longer than necessary so he can be certain there isn't anything suspicious inside. You'd think," she added, a note of anger in her voice, "that he would care more about making sure nothing dangerous gets into the school!"

Hermione snorted. It was so typical of their caretaker: he was more worried about petty pranks than Dark Magic.

"Are you going to open it or not?" Ginny demanded, noticing that she was still just holding it.

"Oh, right. Yeah." She carefully opened it, for some reason slightly nervous that maybe Filch's suspicions were correct. They weren't, of course, because all that was inside was a letter and a small box. She picked up the letter first.

Hermione,

I'm sending this to you a week early because I have a sneaking suspicion that dear old Filch will keep anything I send for longer than necessary, so I'm very sorry if you still don't get this on your birthday. Either way, happy birthday!

I didn't have time to tell you this when you came by the shop, but my mum pulled me aside and gave me a lecture about you spending the night over the summer, but she also apologized for overreacting. I hope she wasn't too hard on you about it, I forgot to ask.

Since I didn't get a chance to see you on your birthday, I was wondering—

Hermione didn't get to find out what he was wondering, because the other half of the parchment had apparently been torn off. "Any idea what's missing here?" Hermione asked Ginny.

"I'm guessing he wanted to meet up somewhere, probably a Hogsmeade weekend, and Filch didn't think that was a good idea, so he kept that for himself. But never mind that. We can figure it out later. Open the box!"

Inside the box, there was a necklace with a small heart charm. Tiny orange stones decorated the heart, making a firework. Grinning, Hermione clasped it around her neck.

Ginny was beaming triumphantly at her. "I told him you'd love it! He was so nervous. Is it too much? What if she doesn't like it? Does she even wear jewelry? He was a nightmare when we went shopping. I dunno what he'd've done if he'd gone by himself."

"I didn't know anywhere sold necklaces with fireworks on them," Hermione mused.

"Oh, they don't. He got it custom made." Ginny didn't miss the look of panic that passed over her friend's face for a second. "What's wrong? You do like it, don't you?"

"No, of course I love it. I just, well, he's set the bar really high for presents now."

The redhead burst out laughing. "That's what you're worried about?" she chortled.

Hermione was a bit put-off by Ginny's reaction. "Well, yeah. Of course it is. He gets me this fantastic necklace for my birthday, and there's no way I can beat that, or even come close. I know his birthday isn't till April, but Christmas isn't so far off, and now that he's gone and given me this amazing present, there's going to be more pressure for me to get him something as great, and—"

"Hermione," said Ginny seriously. "Please shut up. Please shut up. That's the most ridiculous thing I've heard. He doesn't expect you to get him some huge or expensive present, and he's not trying to set a really high standard. He happens to have lots of extra Galleons rolling around because of the shop, and he wanted to get you something special. He'd probably be surprised if you got him something for Christmas. Hell, he was bloody shocked when he finally figured out that you fancied him."

She still wasn't entirely convinced, and it showed on her face.

"He's happy just to be with you. Dad said he was bordering on hysterical when you got hurt at the Department of Mysteries and that Mum actually had to slip a Calming Draught into his pumpkin juice. He spent two years trying to win you over, usually failing or having really bad timing, and when he kissed you and you kissed back—something he wasn't expecting, believe it or not—George said he wouldn't shut up about it for a week. He kind of puts you on a pedestal, Hermione, so he still has a difficult time grasping that you two are together, so he decided he'd get you the necklace."

"Now you're just making me feel guilty," Hermione muttered. "But I get your point. I'll try not to stress too much about gifts."

The first Hogsmeade trip was a few weeks later, and it was unexpectedly cold.

Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Ginny walked to The Three Broomsticks together, though Ginny left them once they were inside to go sit with Dean. They had no sooner found a table than Fred was pulling up a chair.

"Fred!" Hermione squealed excitedly. "What are you doing here?"

"Didn't you get my letter?" he asked.

"Only half of it," she said, rolling her eyes. At Fred's look of confusion, she explained, "Ginny reckons Filch ripped off half of it because he didn't want you coming near the school."

Harry and Ron said something about going and getting drinks before hurrying away. "George thought the same when you didn't write back." He blushed and mumbled, "I was worried you didn't like your present."

"Are you kidding? I love it!" She smiled brightly. "Best gift ever."

He noticed she was wearing the necklace and returned the smile. "So how long did good ole Argie keep it for?"

It took Hermione a minute to figure out that good ole Argie was Filch. "I got it at the beginning of October, so I guess around three weeks."

Fred sighed. "I s'pose next time I write to you, I'll have to use a different name, or else have Mum send it to you. Which reminds me—she wasn't too hard on you, right?"

She shrugged. "She gave me a very stern talking to about sneaking off without telling her where I was going; that was about it. And then she forbid me from hexing Ron for telling her where I was." She cleared her throat and did her very best Molly Weasley impression: "Hermione Granger, you are underage, and you are not to perform jinxes on my son in my house!" She would never tell Fred the truth, that she still shuddered when she thought of it, how his mother still appeared in her nightmares, sounding painfully like a Howler.

"Should've known it was him. Harry keeps his nose in his own business, and Ginny knows better than—" He broke of, catching sight of Ginny and Dean snogging across the room. "I have half a mind to go tell her off."

"Oh, don't do that. That'd be hypocritical, don't you think?"

"I'm not openly kissing you; she's got her tongue down his throat over there. I'm not a hypocrite."

Hermione grinned slyly before leaning over so her lips were just an inch from his. "Now you are." With that, she closed the remaining distance and kissed him.

He smiled under the kiss and knew there was no way he would lecture Ginny. After all, maybe there wasn't anything terribly wrong with a little bit of PDA...

"Oi!" Ron yelled, slapping Fred's back.

Hermione pulled away, still grinning. Fred frowned at Ron. "What was that for?"

"I already have to deal with Ginny kissing every bloke she comes across—"

"Hey!" Harry and Hermione interrupted indignantly.

Ron ignored them. "—I don't want to see you two snogging all over the place."

Fred gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Ron, I haven't seen my girlfriend in almost two months. I know the concept of relationships is still entirely foreign to you, but I'd kind of like to kiss her, since I probably won't see her again till Christmas." He laced his fingers with Hermione's.

"Well...just keep it to a minimum," he said defeatedly.

"You know, Harry," Fred said conversationally. "I always thought you and Ginny would end up together."

"I know, right?" Hermione agreed vehemently while Harry stammered incoherently.

"George thinks so too."

"And I suppose George is a relationship expert," Ron said snippily.

"Yes, actually," Fred replied in a mild tone. "Perpetually single though he is, he's quite good at reading into things. He was right about me and Hermione, after all. He's been saying we'd end up together since she first came to Hogwarts. And let's be honest—who else saw that coming?"

"I, for one, sure didn't," said Hermione.

"Gotta say, I didn't either," Harry interjected, able to form words again.

"Ginny did. She and George did a lot of conspiring, trying to set us up."

"Like locking us in your dormitory when we quit speaking?" Hermione suggested.

"That was a success, wasn't it?"

"If it was so successful, why did it take you a few more months to kiss me?" she teased.

Fred didn't have an answer, so he pressed his lips to her cheek. "What do you say we ditch these two sad, lonely kids and go for a walk?"

"I suppose they can manage without me for a few hours. Behave yourselves!" she called to Ron and Harry as she left Three Broomsticks with Fred.

"I give Ron five minutes before he closes in on Ginny," sad Fred.

"You're giving him too much credit. I bet he's already headed over to her."

Sure enough, when they glanced in the window, Ron was making a beeline for Ginny and Dean. "He needs to get laid," Fred muttered. "Or someone's going to—"

"Kill him?"

"I was going to say slap him," Fred corrected.

"Ron gets slapped on a weekly basis. Usually by me or Ginny."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they walked. "I knew there was a reason I liked you!"

She elbowed his side. "Is that the only reason?"

"Well, no," he said hastily. "But come on, if you meet a girl who keeps your little brother's ego in check and smacks him on a regular basis, you know she's a keeper."

"That's either sweet or very weird, and I'm going to go with sweet."

"As you should." He pulled her along with him towards the Shrieking Shack, occasionally stopping to kiss her. He couldn't wait until the holidays when he could see her every day, or, at the very least, more often than this.

On the walk back to the castle—well, to the gate, since he wasn't up to dealing with Filch—Fred noticed Hermione was shivering, so he shrugged off his jacket and slipped it over her shoulders. She was cold enough that she didn't try to protest. While she was sliding her arms through the sleeves, she heard a soft click and whipped her head around to find Colin Creevey with his camera. She immediately turned to Fred, raising an eyebrow in suspicion; she figured he'd planned it.

"Don't look at me, I'm just as confused as you are," he said.

Colin approached them, looking skittish. "Er, I was just walking by and saw you guys and—" He started speaking very quickly, "You two are just such a cute couple and I thought it would make a good picture and, uh..." He quit talking, clearly flustered, and handed Fred the photo before sprinting in the other direction.

Hermione looked at Fred and asked, "What is it about you that inspires so much fear in that boy?"

Huuuge thanks to nsheldonb, AgentBrenna, krikanalo, Lunarox67, and GabzHaug for reviewing!