"Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione knocked on the door to the Burrow. Fred's hand lingered on her waist and she pushed him off gently. That was the last thing his mum needed to see.
"Visit soon," Fred muttered under his breath. Hermione nodded slightly.
"Hermione!" The older witch pulled open the kitchen door and encased Hermione in a fierce hug. "We didn't expect you for another hour!"
"My schedule was a little tight," Fred explained. This wasn't a lie; the twins had been interviewing staff for nearly a week. Hermione insisted that they were being far too picky. "Had to swing by early."
"You should have owled," Mrs. Weasley said seriously. After embracing her son, she pulled Hermione into the house, "Did you owl her parents before getting her?"
"Er, sort of?" Fred winced. Hermione bit her lip. He was trying not to lie directly, so that they would be all right when the truth came out. It wouldn't work the way they wanted, but it was better than lying blatantly.
"Fred," Mrs. Weasley looked back at him.
"I showed my mum the letter," Hermione reassured her. Mrs. Weasley smiled at her, scowled at Fred, and offered food to both. Fred ate about a half a roll before he sighed and gestured behind him.
"I really have to go," Fred took an awkward step toward Hermione. Then he stopped waved lamely, throwing his roll on the table, "Good-bye, 'Mione. Try not to boss every else around too much."
"Quit throwing food and don't tell me what to do."
"Ah, you're hopeless," Fred grinned and left the house quickly. Hermione ate his roll once she'd finished hers.
"Fred was all right then?" Mrs. Weasley gestured for Hermione to sit. She did after a moment of polite hesitation. Mrs. Weasley was the sort of person who never sat down as far as Hermione was aware.
"He didn't try to test anything on me," Hermione said, straining for neutrality. It was getting harder to do. "At least, not that I know of."
"Well, they've left quite the mess up in their room. We're thinking of putting Harry up there, you know," Mrs. Weasley procured a block of cheese and began slicing it expertly. Hermione perked up at the mention of Harry. She couldn't imagine how awful it must feel for him to be stuck at the Dursley's. Especially after what had happened...
Hermione cleared her throat, "He's coming over tomorrow?"
"No, day after next... Or the day after that?... Dumbledore didn't quite say," Mrs. Weasley mused.
"Dumbledore's getting him?" Hermione lowered her voice for this detail. She wondered what they'd do.
"Well, yes. I expect they have some things to discuss," Mrs. Weasley said quietly. She paused in her cheese cutting, "What with that nasty business at the Ministry."
"Did- Did he have a will?" Hermione asked quietly.
"Of course. The Ministry didn't have to examine this one, though," Mrs. Weasley laughed lightly. "It was written beautifully, mind you. Dumbledore told me. I didn't think the poor soul had it in him, but he did it properly. He gave everything to Harry."
"He didn't write it out on a napkin?" Hermione asked lightly.
"I should think not!" Mrs. Weasley turned to face Hermione, "Then the Ministry would have taken everything, and he would've hated it. No, no, he did it properly, cursive and calligraphy and all."
"Couldn't Moody deliver that?" Hermione probed cautiously.
"I don't know why Dumbledore wants to go with him," Mrs. Weasley said shortly, cutting more furiously. "He'll drag him into some strange adventure, no doubt. Harry might be better off for it but..."
Mrs. Weasley trailed off. Hermione didn't dare to ask where her mind had wandered. She was curious though; how many people had been labeled as 'risk-taker' in Mrs. Weasley's eyes? No doubt Harry himself, the twins, perhaps Ron, definitely Charlie... As Hermione stared at Mrs. Weasley's back she couldn't help but think about how much they both tried to control things, how very little good those attempts came to. Then she thought of how they both loved the same group of people so intensely. Then she thought of Fred.
Mrs. Weasley set a plate of food before Hermione. The sound of china on wood reverberated unnaturally through the house. Almost immediately, two doors creaked open.
"Mum?! Did you make food?!" The query came from far away, and pounding feet nearly masked it. Hermione smiled.
"Shouldn't you wait until Hermione gets here to make food, Mum? If she doesn't get some before Ron there won't be any-" Hermione turned toward the stairs. Ginny's sentence turned into an incoherent squeal of surprise. Hermione laughed and Ginny ran over to hug her. Hermione couldn't have stood to return it if she'd tried. Ron half tripped down the last few steps and stumbled into the kitchen. Ginny grabbed a handful of food and sank into the chair besides Hermione.
"Hermione?" Ron gasped. Hermione waved happily and began to eat. "When did you get here?"
"Ten or so minutes ago," Hermione shrugged.
"Really? Why didn't you come up?" Ron asked.
"I was talking with your mum."
"Besides, she would've come to my room first," Ginny said smugly.
"Fat chance," Ron snorted.
"It's on the way up," Hermione pointed out. Besides, she wasn't exactly fond of spending time alone with Ron anyways. She didn't want the Weasleys to get the wrong impression, or to tell Fred. She'd much rather just hang out with Ginny. At least Ginny knew.
"Speaking of," Ron turned to his mother, "Do I really have to go all the way up there? Why can't I move into Fred and George's room?"
"Because Harry is staying there," Mrs. Weasley answered sternly. Hermione knew Ron had been after a new room. She'd had to tell him that he could, under no circumstances, ask for Percy's room. That was asking for trouble.
"But he wasn't three weeks ago! There's two beds, and I don't think he has a problem sharing-"
"You can't speak for Harry," Hermione reminded him, even though she agreed with Ron.
"We share a room with three other guys at Hogwarts-"
"And he should be allowed some privacy over the summer, you're completely right Ron," Mrs. Weasley said clearly. Ron grumbled incoherently and stuffed food into his mouth.
"I don't see your problem with stairs," Ginny said, "Hogwarts is full of them. It's good practice."
"Why don't you go up and down them twenty times a day?" Ron asked, "Then how'll you like them?"
Ginny shrugged and leaned closer to Hermione, "So what are we doing today?"
"Hey, she isn't your friend-"
"Excuse me?! I don't get how you can decide that!"
"We're going to talk about real things-"
"Real?! You mean you're going to gossip about Harry-"
"How would you know?!"
"What else would you do, talk about Quidditch?"
"Merlin, no," Hermione muttered under her breath. She was well aware that she would not be able to get a word in edgewise until Ginny had said her piece. Trying to stop her would only give her more time to prepare her arguments.
"Ginny," Ron said through grinding teeth.
"Talk about real things! If only you knew-"
"Ginny," Hermione placed a stealthy hand on the younger girl's knee and squeezed, hard. Ginny jerked and nearly hit Hermione.
"Knew what?" Ron's eyes narrowed, not on Ginny but Hermione. He was studying her face, every detail of it. It wasn't an abnormal look for Hermione to receive from Ron. But, as always, she wasn't looking at him, but rather the table and the rapidly disappearing food.
"Nothing, she's being dramatic," Hermione forced herself to meet Ron's eyes with the smallest of smiles.
"Ron, it's about time to de-gnome the gardens again," Mrs. Weasley said suddenly. He groaned and pushed out of his chair. He snatched up a line of cheese and left the house grumpily.
"Er, Mrs. Weasley-"
"I don't want to know," Mrs. Weasley held up her hands but gave Hermione a look that made her think that the older witch did want to know. Ginny grabbed some more food and pulled Hermione out of her chair.
"You loosen your tongue anymore and I'll hex it to the roof of your mouth, permanently!" Hermione hissed as they ascended the first flight of steps.
"Making out would be a lot more interesting, wouldn't it?" Ginny asked lightly, pushing into her room. Hermione closed the door behind them.
"You have to be more careful! I'm not kidding!" Hermione insisted.
"Why can't you just tell the world that you like to suck Fred's-"
"Ginny!" Hermione said crossly.
"I was going to say 'face,'" Ginny said, slamming shut her window. Hermione paled and stumbled backwards against the door.
What if Ron had heard?
"'Mione?"
"Don't call me that!" Hermione snapped. Ginny appeared taken aback, but she set her jaw quickly enough.
"Well, why not Hermione? Why can't you tell everyone?!"
"I'm Muggleborn," Hermione said lowly.
"Who gives a fuck?!"
"Death Eaters!" Hermione said clearly. "You-Know-Who! They want to kill me, because I am the first witch in my family, and because Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, is my best friend!"
"That doesn't have anything to do with Fred!"
"It has everything to do with him!" Hermione said shrilly. "Your family is already blood traitors because you let me stay here and you like me, but Fred being with me is something different! They'll use him, do Merlin knows what to him, just to get to me, to get to Harry!"
"Fred can take care of himself," Ginny said, much quieter. Hermione found her eyes smarting.
"I know that, my- I know that in my head," Hermione leaned against the door and closed her eyes for a moment. "But it doesn't make my stomach settle. Just thinking about it... It makes me sick."
"He came and picked you up, didn't he?"
Hermione bit her lip and opened her eyes. She explained as quickly as possible about her extended stay with Fred in as little detail as she could. Ginny, once over being dramatically scandalized, began to question her about everything.
"He's your brother!" Hermione protested.
"We Weasleys have a proud reputation of being good in the sack, I just need to make sure the family legacy is-"
"Shut up!" Hermione laughed, cutting Ginny off with a pillow to the face. Ginny threw the pillow to the ground with a scowl and shook her head.
"So defensive. Is he that bad?"
"Quite the opposite. He knows how to treat a lady. You know, he does this thing where his tongue-"
"Never mind! It was a yes or no question!" Ginny squeaked.
There was a pounding on the door and both girls fell totally silent. "Ginny?"
"Oh, Merlin, she's back!" Ginny hissed.
"Who?" Hermione asked. The voice carried a heavy French accent, but none of the Weasleys were French... Maybe some distant relation? Though who would come to England on holiday with the dementors so out of hand?
"Fleur."
~m~
The days until Harry's arrival stretched into an eternity. There was no way to avoid being alone with Ron or being in the presence of Phlegm without being in the loo or being asleep. Hermione suspected cloning. Ron made an ever bigger fool of himself around Fleur. He had never been, in Hermione's eyes, less realistic or intelligent. Bill came around infrequently, and while his visits were appreciated in that Fleur bothered someone else, Ginny was capable of standing Fleur to see her oldest brother.
Which left Ron and Hermione. Ron didn't like to be reminded that Fleur wouldn't look at him twice beside his brother (or even really once), and Hermione avoided Bill on the principle that Fred had told her he could sniff out feelings faster than a thestral could meat.
Hermione was able to read through any circumstance, however, and so ignored many possibly awkward conversations with a good hard cover.
"Are you listening to me?" Hermione tried not to swat Ron as he pushed her book down.
"Er- sort of," Hermione offered. She had no idea what he'd been saying. Something about the Cuddly Cannons, perhaps? It was entirely possible. She hadn't been reading, just thinking with a shield.
"Why don't you ever pay attention to me?" Ron asked.
"I do! But if you're going to go on and on about Quidditch-"
"I like Quidditch!"
"Well, I don't," Hermione sighed and stood. She hit Ron on the arm lightly. "You need more talking points. Quidditch alone won't cut it for a lot of girls."
"How about 'my best friend is the most famous-'"
"You can't leech off of Harry," Hermione scowled. "Find something that's about you."
She left him reasonably bewildered. She returned to her deep thought about the potential essays they would be assigned in Transfiguration. She didn't realize that she'd given him girl advice. Or that he had taken it almost completely in the wrong way.
The night before Harry was to arrive, the entire Weasley clan, in addition to several members of the Order, ate dinner at the Burrow. The meal was considerably dour; the only lightened souls were sat on either side of Hermione.
"You sharing the room with Ginny?" Fred whispered into her ear. He reached around Hermione to tap George and point to the mashed potatoes. They were passed his way and he heaped several healthy spoonfuls onto his plate.
"I'm in Percy's old room, actually," Hermione mumbled under her breath.
"Thought Mum was keeping that for old Pratty," Fred said, attacking his mashed potatoes with vigor. "Just in case he comes tottling home."
"I think it's to keep Ron from asking about it," Hermione murmured.
"Vulture," Fred scoffed, finishing his potatoes with a low grunt. He looked up at his mother, "You're a lot better at the whole food thing than I am, Mum!"
"Practice, Freddie, its all about practice," George said smoothly. Hermione knew he hadn't managed to do more than burn toast, but her interest was dragged to something else.
Remus and Tonks were sitting across from one another but both were staring resolutely at their plates. Tonks had mousy brown hair instead of her usual vibrant pink and she'd hardly said a word. Remus looked worse than ever; an odd tinge colored his face and he looked as though he might be sick. Tonks hadn't touched her food. Neither had Remus.
They must have been taking Sirius's death far harder than Hermione had thought. She felt especially bad for Remus. If Ron was taken away and locked up for a decade, and they got only a few years together before he died at the hands of- of his Aunt Muriel or something, would she eat? She doubted it. Fred might make her though.
"What a sorry lot they are," George said quietly, nudging Hermione to catch her attention. Fred had begun to banter with his father and Bill.
"Oh, I wonder if Harry will be that bad," Hermione but her lip and looked to George for reassurance. He just shrugged and picked at his food. Hermione frowned, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing-"
"You're a Weasley and you aren't eating," Hermione said sharply. She lowered her voice and hissed, "What is it?"
"It's nothing," George insisted.
"Oi, 'Mione," Ron called, "Want to stay up and wait for Harry?"
Hermione needed a way to back out. Though neither had said it, she and Fred fully expected him to stay the night. It had already been too long. She needed every second she could have with him before she went to Hogwarts.
"He won't be by until early tomorrow," Mad-Eye Moody said gruffly.
"You'll have better luck with an alarm," Bill reached over to ruffle Ron's hair.
Fred leaned back in his chair with a slow spreading smile. He draped his arm over Hermione's shoulder and raised his eyebrows, "How about me, Hermione?"
"E-Excuse me?" Hermione was not planning on telling his family about them, especially not in this way. He couldn't just... just be Fred in such a high concentration all of a sudden.
"I'd treat you right," Fred winked through something akin to a grimace. Why was he doing this?
Hermione was well aware of Remus's eyes on them. She had no idea what to do. The fear showed on her face. George had known this was coming. He shoved Fred's arm off and scoffed, "Please, if anyone's spending the night with her, it's me."
"Boys," Mrs. Weasley warned.
"Or I could sleep on my own," Hermione said crossly, not appreciating Fred's comment in the slightest. He touched his hand to his heart.
"You've shattered my dreams," he said dramatically. He gestured to George, "I hope you're happy together, Gred."
"Shut up," Hermione said under her breath. It took a while for Fred to start joking even half-heartedly.
After eating and cleaning up, the members of the Order got to talking in the living room. Naturally Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were almost forcefully removed.
"You stay," Remus said as he shut the door to the room Hermione was staying in. She stuck her tongue out at the slim wooden plank and paced in a circle around the room.
A knock on the door was all that preceded Fred's entrance. As soon as it had shut, he was apologizing, "I'm so sorry about that, but I couldn't stop staring at you, and I thought it would make you mad at me, so I had to do it, so you wouldn't look at me quite the same the same way, and they wouldn't know... it's impossible to be around you, 'Mione, and not just- just-"
"You made me look like an idiot," Hermione said angrily. She crossed her arms over her chest and wandered over to the window. She stared resolutely out of it. If she saw his sad face, she would cave and she knew it. He had wanted her angry at him and gotten exactly what he'd wished for.
"It was the only way. Neither of us lied; you're the woman I'd ever want to spend the night with," Fred said softly.
"You're missing an Order meeting," Hermione said curtly, staring out at the darkened lawn of the Burrow.
"I'd miss a thousand meetings if it meant another minute with you," Fred touched her shoulders gently. He traced his hands over her back lightly, "I love you, Hermione Jean Granger, and I will until the day I die."
"You'll die with me mad at you," Hermione said grumpily. Fred kissed her cheek, leaning close enough that she could feel his chuckle more than hear it.
"I don't doubt it," Fred wrapped his arms around her waist and swayed slightly. "I meant to surprise you, and Bill is convinced you hate me. So's Ron but he's a little more angry than you are I think."
"No, I'm fairly certain that is impossible," Hermione relaxed ever so slightly. Fred pressed another kiss against her cheek.
"I wish every night could be like this," Fred murmured, staring out the window absently.
"You must be some kind of masochist then," Hermione shook her head.
"Well, not the anger bit," Fred revised himself quickly. "Just the you and I alone, without George lurking, enjoying a nice night someplace safe."
"It is nice," Hermione admitted slowly. Fred leaned in the kiss her cheek but she turned her head. It was a brief kiss, but Hermione enjoyed the small sound of distaste Fred let out when she returned to staring out the window.
"You're not playing fair," Fred whined, kissing her neck vigorously. Hermione fought to keep herself silent. "I apologized."
"Why wasn't George eating?" Hermione asked.
"I can take care of Mr. Mopey, stop worrying about him," Fred sighed. Then his arms stiffened around Hermione, "Oh, shit."
"What is it?" She turned to look back at him, but his gaze was focused out the window. Hermione followed it to the silhouette of a man in the yard. Fred pulled his wand from his pocket hastily and the shades dropped. The window shut with a thud and Hermione tried to control her breathing. This was not good, not at all.
"I'll be right back," Fred said darkly. He pulled away from Hermione quickly.
"No!" Hermione grabbed Fred's arm, "They couldn't have known it was you. Going down now-"
"If that was my dad-"
"Fred, listen to me!" Hermione ordered. Fred stopped and looked back at her. "Think about this. For all they know, it was Ron or George."
"How is that any different?!"
"Your family is weirdly respective of this shit, but if you go running down, in the middle of an Order meeting, they're going to laugh at you and tell everyone!" Hermione hissed. "And there is no lie, no excuse, good enough to explain any of this. Otherwise, this fades quietly into the night as 'I swear someone was up there with Hermione, but-'"
There was knock on the door. Fred twisted, but didn't disappear.
"The Apparation charms," he said in horror. Hermione shoved him toward her bed. He fell to the ground and rolled underneath it. Hermione took one arm out of her sleeve. "What are you-"
"I'm changing," she called, trying to give an excuse for what was taking her so long, pulling off her shirt. She grabbed a clean tank top out of her open trunk and hastily yanked it over her head. She opened the door and ran a hand through her hair. "Bill?"
"Have you seen Fred?" The eldest brother asked, his lips twitching the way Ron's did he was trying not to laugh at something. Hermione recognized this as a very bad sign.
"Why would I have?" She asked, trying to make her voice as sour as possible, "He's not man enough to apologize."
She expected Fred to protest, but there was nothing but silence behind her. Perhaps he'd finally grasped the severity of the situation.
"Oh, it must have George then," Bill said, snapping his fingers. He put a hand on the door frame and leaned closer to Hermione. She could definitely understand why Fleur would go for him. Her face heated slightly. Bill was... intense.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.
"Is that so, 'Mione?" Bill asked, grinning.
"Why am I suddenly in charge of knowing where your brothers are?"
"Ron is under the impression that you know everything."
"Ron is, as usual, wrong," Hermione tried to close the door, but Bill put his foot in the way. Blasted Weasley's and their blasted Quidditch bodies. Would it kill one of them to be weak or overweight?
"Did he Apparate or hide?"
"We both know no one can Apparate-"
"So he's hiding then," Bill nodded and pushed past Hermione into the room.
"There's no one else in here!" Hermione cried, hoping her voice wasn't too desperate. She shut the door nonetheless. If Fred did get spotted, she didn't want this to spread far. "Aren't you supposed to be at the meeting?"
"I needed a break so I went outside and what did I see but you and one of my little brothers doing Merlin knows what in here. Naturally I was forced investigate, Mum would have a heart attack if she knew that... George was hiding in... the closet!" Bill dramatically threw open the closet door. It was barren.
"There are two people in this room, Bill," Hermione leaned against the wall, resolutely refusing to look at her bed. "And that's you and me."
"You're a good liar, Hermione, I'll give you that," Bill narrowed his eyes. "What's up with George? He wasn't eating."
"I don't ruddy know," Hermione's scowl became much more genuine.
"You actually care," Bill said.
"So I'm either involved with him, or Fred, or Ron, or fucking Charlie," Hermione snapped, "I've spent a lot of time with your brothers, Bill, get used to it."
"You said Fred first," Bill said with a smirk.
"They're twins!" Hermione nearly screamed. "Get out of here, you absolute lunatic!"
"Definitely Fred," Bill's smirk grew, "Come out, come out, where ever you are, Freddie."
"I don't know where he is," Hermione said as plainly as possible. This was getting out of hand. Bill stared at Hermione for a long moment.
"You do."
There was a third knock on the door. Hermione yanked it open angrily.
"Where's Fred?" George asked flatly.
"He's in here somewhere," Bill called behind her. Hermione made a face at George that communicated her frustration and desperation. She didn't know what George could do, but she suspected it was a little bit more than she could.
"How much firewhiskey have you had, Bill?" George asked.
"I am not drunk!"
"That's what they all say," George sighed and Hermione let him pass into the room. He grabbed Bill's arm, "Come on."
"Fuck off, George."
"I'm Fred."
"Like hell you are. Where is he?"
"Apparently in this very room," Hermione said dramatically.
"Yeah, I don't doubt it. Probably hiding under the bed?" George asked flatly. Hermione nodded almost imperceptively. "Honestly, Hermione, you couldn't think of anything better?"
"I was rushed for time," Hermione deadpanned.
"Get off me," Bill pulled away from George. "They were up to no good."
"Because a prefect and respectable woman such as Hermione could stand one of us dastardly Weasley twins," George rolled his eyes. "Bill, trust me, if they had something going on, don't you think I would be the first to know?"
"You could be covering for him. He told me before the Quidditch Cup that he wanted something to be going on," Bill jumped onto Hermione's bed and she winced.
Hermione clenched her jaw, praying Fred had enough sense to hide himself some how. "That was nearly two years ago. Not everyone gets what they want."
"True, but Freddie's always been pretty crafty," Bill rolled off the bed and looked underneath it. "Damn. Well, sorry about this 'Mione. See you in the morning."
"I'll be reporting you to the Aurors," Hermione said.
"Half of them are downstairs anyways," Bill shrugged, "Besides, I want to see what Remus has to say about this."
"Wh-Why?" George asked. Hermione could've cursed him; the idiot had paled. Bill seemed to take note of this guessing by the return of his confidence.
"He's got an eye for this sort of thing," Bill said slowly. George followed him out of Hermione's room. She closed the door and pressed her ear against it. They were still talking, but she couldn't quite hear what about. Something touched her shoulder and she nearly jumped out of her skin.
"Disillusionment Charm," Fred whispered. He muttered a series of spells. He had become no more than a slight distortion of air. Hermione reached out to touch him tentatively. Suddenly he was kissing her. It was the strangest thing Hermione had ever experienced. "You all right?"
"Your brothers a still right out there," Hermione murmured.
"Well, they can't get in and I'm not leaving any time soon," Fred slowly came back into sight. He pulled of his shirt and dropped it and his wand onto the floor. "Evidently I have to prove to you that I'm a man."
.o0O0o.
I would apologize, but then I'd have to explain my life, and I really don't have the time for that. Wow do I sound snobby. Now I will apologize. I'm sorry guys, my brain is in twelve places.
Guest: Soon is such a relative term...
Grouplobster: You made me write the Bill stuff since I thought the chapter was lacking substance for it having been so long since I'd updated.
Memories-of-the-Shadows: My sister can read fics without being bothered by grammatical errors and I can't read something if there's a missed comma in the description. It's so bad on this site, I just hope people aren't trying to sound like an authority on something when they can't comprehend the basics of grammar.
OptimusPrimeGirl213: You reviewed on chapter one so it'll be a week until you get here, but thanks!
animelover5107: The revenge prank will be good. I swear.
sdrlana21: Thank you!
treehouserowe: OTP! Thank you so very much, I hope I don't end up disappointing you.
Just 1 Thought: Everything seems short when you read fast. Hope this wasn't too bad though... Actually 52 was about 900 words shorter than 51, but if I increased volume with every update, no one who just started reading would ever be able to catch up.
aimsm: They got drunk in this fashion: Hermione was drinking faster than Fred expected. He tried to catch up. Hermione thought she should be drinking faster, so she did. Fred tried to catch up. The cycle repeated until they ran out of motor skills and could no longer pour anything into their cups. I promise Marauders swearing is a thing, it has to be, if it's not, I'll dig my own grave, I love how much the twins love the Marauders *dies*
Guest: Drunk is better than not drunk.
TaylorNReed: I wasn't sure about how I was writing George and Angelina but everyone seems to like it so maybe I didn't fail? This feels good, not failing. Thank you!
filmdork: Middle name Dragon, got it. Sorry you had to wait a month for the next chapter *laughs nervously*
I was BOTWP: Angelina is so goddamned under appreciated. If you know anything about sports, you'd know it's impossible to control the little munchkins and it's difficult to think of plays. I mean, I only really do Cross Country, but organized, plotting sports just seem like a lot more effort.
Newsie35: Hello :) I fully believe that the type of drunk you are depends on a) your day and b) who you're with.
Guest: If I don't appreciate the appreciation, than I would have no motivation to provide that which the appreciators appreciate.
Infernalbooks: Little bit more dour Remus in this one, sorry. (I had to type 'sorry' twice; the first time it came out 'sour')
GUYS I NEED SLEEP THIS IS A PROBLEM
I'm a Nerd and Proud: Can you point out any good Clintasha fics for me? I ship it so. hard. Hermione around Fred and Hermione around Harry are two very different people in my mind, but also very similar.
Sidenote: If the person I know in real life would read this fucking chapter already, I wouldn't be having to send them fragments via SnapChat, now would I?! (I'm well aware that you won't get here for two more months at the rate you're going).
