I don't own Harry Potter and Co. and if you really, truly thought a loser like me would, than you're an idiot and I pity you.

Also, if anyone that reads this has any idea what I should name this story, please tell me! I hate titling them because I'm so afraid they're going to come off all cheesy. But if one of my readers suggests it, it's not a cheesy. Thank you and Hooray!

:*: 2 :*:

"Hey, George?" I asked from my bed later that night.

"What?" he groaned, annoyed. It was nearing one in the morning, so his annoyed attitude was fairly justified.

George was pretty tired, as was I (we had spent nearly the rest of the day playing Quidditch with Ron and Harry; Hermione read) but I had to ask him.

"Did you notice anything… I don't know… different? About Hermione?" I asked cautiously.

"What?" he asked angrily. "You disturbed me, just as I was going to finally fall asleep to ask me is I noticed anything different about Hermione? You've got to be joking."

He rolled over, away from my bed.

"Come on, George," I pressed. "I just want to know."

"No."

"You didn't?"

"No. Now go to sleep and leave me the hell alone!"

I laid back down onto my bed and stared at my uneventful ceiling.

If George hadn't noticed anything – my twin, my second half, the one who always thought the exact same about stuff as me – than did I? Was I just deluding myself into thinking there was something more about Hermione?

I decided I was. I mean, as said before, this was Hermione Granger. I had seen her for an entire school year in her Hogwarts robes, and then I see her in just some simple, normal Muggle clothing. I just wasn't used to it, so of course it was different and of course I noticed it.

I sighed, happy that I had realized what had made me so loopy earlier, and closed my eyes and was welcomed with open arms into the Wonderful World of Sleep.

:*: :*: :*: :*: :*: :*: :*: :*: :*: :*:

I woke up the next morning, frantic.

I had only two more weeks of summer to go! I have to do something excited.

I then realized I was an idiot and I didn't have to go back to school on September first. It was a nice feeling.

"Fred?" I heard George say. "Did you think it too?"

"What?"

"That we only had a few more weeks of summer before Hogwarts?"

I told you my twin and I thought the same.

"Yeah," I laughed. "Guess it will take some getting used to."

"I think I can get used to not going to school," George said.

I smiled. I personally didn't know how to feel. I mean, Hogwarts had been the focus of my life for seven years, and with out it, I'd have to find something new to bitch about. I wouldn't dare mention this to Mum, because her first response would be:

"How about you get a job?"

That was kind of creepy. Only because when I went down for breakfast, those were her first words to me.

"Good morning to you to," I grumbled.

"Good morning," Mum replied sarcastically. I grinned. "I am absolutely serious about you tow getting jobs," she added, indicating to George and I.

"But Mum," George said. "Aren't you worried about your babies growing up?"

"Oh, George," Mum said. "I need not worry about that yet. I've still got Ron and Ginny to go."

We scowled, whereas Ginny and Ron looked very pleased.

"Dad could get you a job at the Ministry," Ron said. I scowled at him. He smiled, causing me to scowl more.

I didn't want a job. I'm not responsible, serious, or anything like that. I'd be fired within two hours of my start. And anyways, if Dad got me a job, I'd most likely end up getting janitorial work. Yeah, sign me up.
"What a wonderful idea, Ron," Mum praised. "I had already thought of it though. I'm not sure I really want any more of my children working in the Ministry. You know, after all that has happened…" she trailed off.

She was, of course, talking about Cornelius Fudge and that whole disturbing fiasco.

I don't blame her for trying to change the subject. No one really enjoyed discussing what had happened. It had put so many lives in danger that it was just better not to talk about it, but I'll be nice and tell you anyways:

Last year, it was discovered that Cornelius Fudge was indeed not the real Cornelius Fudge. He had been kidnapped by You-Know-Who and one of You-Know-Who's supporters had been taking Polyjuice Potion for nearly two years. He passed very important information of onto You-Know-Who which resulted in the death of many important Ministry members. Thankfully, Dad and Percy were both safe.

But it really shook us all up because… well, how would you feel if your leader-type person turned out to be in league with a really, really, evil wizard. Exactly. It wouldn't be nice.

"Mum," I finally said, interrupting her while she was listing the possible jobs I could have. "We thought you understood that George and I want to open a joke shop?"

Mum looked at us, wide-eyed.

"You will do something more constructive with your life instead of fiddling around with toy wands and trick sweets!"

"Mum," George said.

"No!" she replied angrily. "I have three successful children already. I'm not going to let you two squander your future!"

That hurt. She knew how much we, at least I, hated being compared to Bill, Charlie and especially Percy. So, at this comment, I pushed my chair out and went into the back=yard, ignoring Mum's comments for me to come back.

Mum constantly did this to me and George. Bill was Head Boy at Hogwarts and is now a Curse Breaker in Gringotts in Egypt. Charlie was star of the Quidditch team and is now a successful Dragon studier in Romania and then stupid, uptight Percy. Prefect, Head Boy, top of his class, now an important member of the Ministry doing something I don't care about.

Sure, I was a pretty good Beater on the Quidditch team, and I got fairly good grades, but I didn't want to work in the Ministry and I was never good around animals (I'm too energetic to have them be calm around me) and I can't concentrate enough to break Curses for a living.

The only good thing I've ever really excelled at, along with George, is making people laugh. We're exceptionally good at that and that's what I want to do for the rest of my life: make people laugh.

So I sat down by our frog-filled pond and just watched the frogs. I wish I were a frog. You sit around in mucky pond water, procreate, and live a happy frog life. I wish I were a frog.

"Fred," someone said from behind me. A female someone.

"Hermione?" I said, honestly shocked. What the hell was she doing? I didn't even know Hermione was in the kitchen.

"I was in the living room, reading," she explained. Of course, I thought.

"And," she continued, "I heard the conversation with your mum and I think she's right."

"What?" I said, angry. "You came out here to tell me my mum was right? Thanks for that comfort, Hermione. I appreciate it greatly. Next time I need salt added to wounds, I'll give you a holler."

Hermione looked wounded. I felt horrible.

"Hermione," I said apologetically. "I'm sorry I said that. My mum got to me, that's all."

She once again got that "I'm smarter than you" thing about her and said, "Well. I'll just go inside, then."

And with that, she turned heel and walked back inside.

"Wow. Way to go Fred. Make people made at you! Smart! Hey! Look at that. You're now talking to yourself."

"Mum got to you, huh?" George asked, standing right where Hermione had.

"Yeah. You?" I asked.

"Not so much," George said. I was surprised. "I'm used to it," he added.

"I guess you get used to things quicker than I do. Hey, there's our one differences."

"Well," George said, sitting down by the pond across from me, "that and, I don't like Hermione." He smirked at me.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"What was with that question last night? 'Do you notice anything different about Hermione?'" he quoted.

"I was just wondering. She seemed more… I don't know! Muggle like this summer."

"Yes," George said sarcastically, "and that googly-eyed look you had after she walked away was because she looked more like a Muggle. I'm your twin, Fred. I'm not an idiot."

"You're just like me. Sure you don't want to rethink that idiot part?" I asked humorously.

"Yeah, probably do. Anyways, do you?" George asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, getting up and walking back into the house and up into my room.

I didn't like Hermione. That's ridiculous. Wasn't it? I've known this girl for nearly six years and I've never felt all woozy around her before.

I finally sat down on my bed and heard the crinkling sound of parchment. I got up and looked at the papers that lay before me and felt a very annoyed feeling wave over me.

They were application parchments for numerous stores in both Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. I quickly rifled through them and… yes!

An application for Zonko's Joke Shop! It would be amazing to work there, I thought. Spend the entire day around joke products… maybe prey on some customers. And sink my teeth into the joking business. Plus, I'd work close to Hogwarts which meant the ability to go to Hogwarts for Quidditch games!

I quickly filled out the application… at least, as much as I could. These were hard questions. I expected Zonko's to ask things like, "What's your favorite joke product?" or, "What's the most outrageous prank you've pulled?" Sure, those questions were on there, but there were also serious questions like, "What could you bring to the Zonko's team?" and "Someone sets off a series of products in the store, what do you do?" I was baffled.

I didn't know how to answer these! I looked at the other applications and they all had questions like this. At this moment, I decided the work force was not my strength.

George came up into the room and started rifling through his applications, "oohing" and "ahhing" and "ewwing" stores. I felt the need to complete these in peace, because I didn't want anyone to see the lack of questions I was answering, so I went downstairs and headed to the living room.

A fire was going (in the middle of August, I know) but we put a Cooling Charm on it, so it was just the light of the fire and not the warmth. The living room was quiet and empty – exactly what I was looking for.

I was still reading the questions on the Zonko's applications when I sat down on the big chair – only to sit on someone else.

"Ow!"

I jumped up, dropping applications everywhere.

"Hermione!" I said, shocked. "I am so sorry. I wasn't paying attention."

"Obviously," she said. It wasn't mean sounding, just like an observation.

I bent over to pick up my applications, blushing the way only a Weasley can.

"What are these?" Hermione asked, helping me.

I kept my face facing the floor as I answered, "Job applications."

"My," she said, impressed. "You've sure got a large variety here. 'Magical Menagerie,' 'Flourish and Blotts,' 'Quality Quidditch Supplies,' of course, 'Zonko's." She handed me a few of them. I took them quickly, not wanting to touch her hand.

Why the hell am I blushing so bad? I asked myself. You don't like Hermione! You don't! I scolded.

But, a little, evil voice in the back of my head said. That would all be true except for the fact that… you know… it isn't. You like Hermione! You like Hermione! You like Hermione! You like Hermione! It taunted.

"Shut up," I accidentally said out loud.

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked.

"No!" I said quickly, doubling my Weasley blush. Cursed genes. "I was talking to myself."

"You told yourself to shut up?" Hermione asked, suspiciously. "Interesting."

I didn't say anything. My heart was beating so hard I thought it might burst out of my chest, clichéd as it sounds.

"These are quite empty," Hermione observed, peeking at the applications.

"Yeah," I explained, embarrassed. "I don't know how to go about answering them."

"Oh, it's not hard." Hermione surveyed the parchments, obviously reading the questions. "Most of these have repeat questions, so you can just think of one basic answer for it then elaborate differently on each paper."

"Really?" I said, moving over next to her to read them. "Oh, that's great. And easy. That helps a lot. Only one problem," I said.

"What's that?" She asked.

"I don't know how to answer the first one!" I exclaimed, frustrated and seeing my future go down the proverbial drain.

"Well," Hermione said, taking a quick, longing glance at the book she was reading. "I can help you. If you want the help, that is," she added quickly.

"Really?" I said. "That would be great!"

Hermione looked at me and smiled.

My heart beat faster as, as corny as it sounds, the fire seemed to accent her face. The fire was the only light in the room, and as it was getting dark outside, the room had a very… romantic feel to it. And you could see Hermione's outline against the orange back drop of the fire and… I just can't describe how unbelievably amazing she looked.

You like Hermione! You like Hermione! You like Hermione! You like Hermione!  The voice taunted again. Man, when they say it takes longer for a boy's mind to mature, they sure aren't kidding.

"Fred?" Hermione said impatiently. "Am I helping you or not?"

"What? Yes! Of course!" I insisted.

"Okay, then sit over here so you can see the parchments and I can see what you're writing." She patted the seat on the couch next to her.

"All right," I said, feeling my happiness at that creeping out into a smile I felt stretching widely across my face. And I couldn't seem to stop it.

"What?" Hermione asked, noticing the smile. "What is it? What did you do? I swear, Fred Weasley, if this is all for you playing a joke on me I'm going to be really mad!" She said angrily.

"What? No!" I said earnestly. "I'm just happy that you're helping me."

Hermione eyed me suspiciously. Can't say I blame her.

"Seriously," I said. "I appreciate you doing this when you could be reading about," I picked up her book, "Quidditch? I thought you hated Quidditch!"

Hermione blushed, getting up and taking the book from me.

"It's not that I hate Quidditch," she explained. "I just don't enjoy non-stop conversations about it."

"Oh," I said. "Hey! I've got an idea!"

Hermione eyed me suspiciously again.

"What kind of idea?" She asked.

"How about, since you're helping me out with this," I said, indicating the applications, "I can teach you how to play Quidditch!"

"You mean," Hermione said cautiously, "On – on – on brooms and everything?"

"Why not? Hermione, it's fun. You'd have a great time, I promise."

Hermione looked from me, to the book, to the application parchments, and back to me again.

"It does sound fun," she admitted.

"Is there a 'yes' in that comment?" I asked, knowing the answer and feeling another creeping smile.

Hermione looked up at me and smiled and said, "Yes."

My smile was so big, it hurt.

A/n: Can I just say thank you to all my reviews, 6, for just the first chapter. I very much appreciate the support.

Selkie04: This is a chapter story, so it will get longer. It's about time you read it.

Gwen Potter: Was this quick enough for you? This is my first story where I don't have, like, five chapters already written.

Alexandra: Thank you!

Maddy: Is this soon enough for you, too?

kalariah: I'm glad I didn't frustrate you with a dramatic Hermione change. I felt that this was a little more realistic, as she was getting older and probably a little more conscious of her looks. Also, I like writing Fred's rambles, so I'm glad you like reading them.

christie: I'm glad you consider this story variety. It's nice.

Just to let you know, I won't be doing this thank you thing every chapter (at least I don't think so), so if it bothers you for some reason, don't worry. I just felt that my first reviewers deserved recognition. Thank you all for reviewing my story and liking it! I'll hopefully crank out the next chapter soon.