Two nights later Hermione and Ginny sat curled up in armchairs in the common room.

"Well?" Ginny asked, prodding Hermione with the end of her ball point pen (Hermione bought it for her in Muggle London…it was much neater looking than a quill). "Who is it?"

"Who is who?" Hermione asked, looking up from the letter she was writing to her mother and father.

"The guy!" Ginny shouted. A few people, including Harry and Ron, who were playing chess in the corner, turned around and stared. Hermione blushed and waved them away, before returning to her letter. "Well?" Ginny hissed in her ear. Hermione jumped a little.

"What guy? There's no guy." She said, then ignored Ginny as she started poking her again begging for details. In fact, there really was a guy, all though Hermione wished there wasn't. She'd always known she'd had a slight crush on this boy—she'd been friends with him for years. But the crush had intensified for some reason over the past months, and Hermione feared it had turned to—dare she even think it—love. But she couldn't be in love with this particular boy could she? He was beyond her reach—beyond her control—beyond her capabilities. And who could ever learn to love a bushy-haired know-it-all like herself? Harry stood up and walked by her, bending down and whispered into her ear.

"You're not a bushy-haired know-it-all." Hermione's eyes flew wide open and she looked up at Harry, who was grinning. She'd completely forgotten he was still studying Mind Reading and could tell anything she thought while he was in the room with her. When he'd first learned to Mind Read, she'd been the one he practiced on. So it was easier for him to tap into her thoughts than to see anyone else's. She'd have to watch it while he was around. She jumped up and grabbed him by the arm, then dragged him off towards the side of the room.

"How much did you hear—see—erm—sense?" Hermione hissed at him.

"Not much—just the busy-haired know-it-all bit—and the bit saying that you might be—dare you say it—in love." He grinned at her. Hermione blushed and moaned.

"Ha-rry! How many times do I have to tell you to stop getting into my head like that!"

"But it's so much fun!"

"But it's rude!"

"But it's so much fun!"

"What's so much fun?" Ron said, coming around the corner and grinning as he watched them argue.

"Nothing!" Hermione said, then walked back and flopped into her chair. After a few minutes of looking at Harry to see if he knew what she was thinking about, she stood up and walked out of the common room.

"Hermione, where're you storming off to?" Ginny called from by the fire place, where she was shooting Harry looks telling him to join her on the couch.

"Kitchens…" Harry muttered as Ron checkmated him and he lost.


"Do you understand how serious this is Mr. Weasley—erm—Fred and George?" Dumbledore said over his glasses in his office. Fred was almost shocked at the seriousness of his expression. George and Fred were seated before him in his office while he told them of his plan. They were to go far away, to a country that hardly anyone remembered anymore, a country so obsolete that no Muggle knew of it. Cerdicnon—good land, but cold and almost empty. Wizards alone lived in Cerdicnon now, but only a small few. Fred and George's mission was classified—no one could know of it. They could only say that they were leaving for a time, no one must know when and no one must know how long. They in fact, didn't know themselves when they would be leaving and wouldn't know until that day came. Until then, they were to wait at Hogwarts.

"Yes Sir," They echoed each other. The old echo relaxed Fred. It was old, familiar.

"Then that will be all Gentlemen. George, I believe if you go to the 2nd level of the castle, down the first corridor to your right, and walk to the end of that hall, you will find a door. Go inside—that will be your room. Fred, you will be staying with your brother Ron in the 7th years' dorm. That is all, you may go." Dumbledore returned to his paperwork, so Fred and George took that as a sign of dismissal. They stood, and walked towards the door of the office.

"Oh, Gentlemen—" Dumbledore looked up.

"Sir?" They echoed again, turning back towards him.

"You are welcome to join in the Winter Festivities. Come to the ball—have fun and be merry." He smiled and that old twinkle returned to his eye. The twins smiled.

"Yes Sir." They walked out of the office and down the hall.

"I wonder why I get my own room—"

"—and I have to sleep with Ronnykins." They said, as they walked away from Dumbledore's office. They both shrugged, then parted ways as George reached the end of his corridor.


George walked down the long corridor towards the door at the other end. This hall was long—dark—spooky. He grabbed a torch from a bracket on the wall and kept walking. The paintings all stared at him and whispered as he walked by. One, he remembered as being in the Great Hall when he and Fred had left that stupid Umbridge woman her—erm—present of a nice swamp. He smiled as the woman in the painting waved and winked. The woman looked somewhat like his Katie. The little flame of happiness that had sparked when he remembered destroying Umbridge's plans against Dumbledore flickered out and he was down again, missing Katie. To leave her alone, and pregnant to boot was horrible for him, and though no one knew, not even Fred, it was eating away at his heart. He missed her already. He sighed as he reached the door at the end of the corridor. He put his hand on the knob—cold and hard—and pushed the door open. He was surprised at the brightness of the room behind the door. The room was decorated in reds, oranges, and yellows. The front room looked like a living area. There were two armchairs on one side of the door and on the other was a small kitchenette area. There was a fire blazing in the fireplace and a warm, golden glow fell over the room. There was a red loveseat in front of the fireplace; and on the red love seat was-

"Katie!"