Ah, fast updates! I like it! YOU REVIEWERS ARE ALL SO ACE! I'm really flattered that so many of you like my story :) wooooo. Lucy, my story is not dripping with sex – not yet! Hehe! Kato x (PS REVIEW!)

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As Hermione walked down the stairs, she smiled inwardly at her newly formed plan. Smoothing down her layered skirt – one of her shortest skirts – she flipped her hair over her shoulder and walked sedately through to the dining room, where she knew the rest of the Weasley family – and Harry – would be waiting.

"Sorry I'm late," she said a little breathlessly, with a smile that showed her white, even teeth. "I hadn't quite finished unpacking!"

Mrs Weasley smiled, which lit up her jubilant, round face. "Not a problem dear!" She said brightly. "Your seat is over at the end there – between Fred and Ron."

Hermione paused slightly. Was she really up to what she was about to embark on? Ron was looking at her quizzically and started beckoning her over – Fred, she noticed, was looking at her legs. Her face began to flush, and she quickly walked over to the table and slid into her seat before anyone could notice her unusual attire. As Mrs Weasley began to serve out the dinner, Hermione looked up from her lap and groaned. Ginny and Harry were sat directly opposite her. Was she to be tortured forever?

"Hermione, are you OK? Why did you run off?" Ginny's pert voice rang out clear above the clanging of the pots and pans and the chatter of the Weasley family.

"I'm fine," Hermione answered firmly, trying hard to ignore Harry and Ginny's clasped hands, placed on top of the table for all to see. "I just wanted a chat with George…" Hermione grinned cheekily at the twin. George, hearing his name, looked up and grinned back.

"And what a chat it was…" thought Hermione sneakily, throwing a glance at Fred next to her. To her interest, he looked quite depressed. Smiling slightly, she turned round and started chatting ten to the dozen to George, asking about the state of his sweet shop. Several times Fred tried to butt in and add his say, but George kept speaking louder, and Hermione avoided Fred's continuous attempts at eye contact. At one point, she even reached over, placed her hand over Georges and gave it a slight squeeze. Fred turned away quickly and drank some butterbeer.

"Are you alright Fred?" Hermione asked, trying to add a sexy lilt to her voice but failing slightly and sounding more like an old person with a sore throat.

Fred snorted, and let out a low hollow laugh. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said quietly, looking into her deep brown eyes. "Just…" he paused. "Its nothing," he added, and turned away and helped himself to potatoes.

Hermione threw George a small grin. Fred's body language and actions were just shouting out that he was getting insanely jealous of Hermione's attentions to George. She quickly glanced at Harry, hoping that he was noticing her attempts at flirting with another guy. Her heart dropped when she saw that he wasn't even looking at her, and was listening intently to Ginny chatting about her new broomstick. She scowled and started her dinner.

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Once the meal was finished, Fred got up and left the table first; striding up the stairs until Hermione heard a door slam somewhere upstairs. Trying to ignore the guilty feeling welling up in her stomach, Hermione accepted Ron and Harry's offer of a game of wizard's chess. Thankfully, Ginny wasn't going to be there – she was going out to Quidditch practise for the whole evening. "Finally!" thought Hermione, "some time with Harry to myself…"

"Hurry up 'Mione!" Harry's voice rang out clear from the Weasley's lounge. Hermione skipped through the door and flopped down onto her favourite pouffle, laughing at Ron's concentration as he looked at the game.

"Now, I am definitely going to beat you this time Ron…" began Harry, grinning at his best friend."

"No way!" Came the infused reply. "You're going down scarboy!" Hermione laughed. She loved it when it was just the three of them, joking around and riling up one another. It almost made her forget her anger and impending revenge on the evil twin she knew well. Too well.

"Wait, I have a book on chess tactics upstairs" she exclaimed excitedly. Harry and Ron rolled their eyes.

"Not that bloody book again 'Mione!" Groaned Ron. "You read it to us for ages and ages last time! We don't need it!"

Hermione winked at him at him happily and headed upstairs towards Ginny's room. Her new flirtatious demeanour was beginning to make more of a difference than she'd thought! Already she felt happier and more in control. Suddenly it had occurred to her that her femininity mixed with her brains could make her a powerful force to reckon with! She smiled as she opened Ginny's door.

She liked the way she was now. Hermione had never truly ever felt beautiful, she'd always been rather plain, and although her figure was athletic, she'd never bothered to show it off to any advantage, usually sticking to plain medium length skirts and soft jumpers. Her brief fling with Viktor Krum two years earlier had not done much to raise her self esteem – regarding it as a simple 'summer fling', Krum had hardly replied to any of her letters and, despite Ron's obvious worries, it was quite obvious to Hermione that Krum never really cared for her. After the correspondence had ended, Hermione had been saving herself for someone who really cared about her – in her hearts of hearts, hopefully Harry - although the plot that she and George had hatched would probably make her break a few of her new priorities.

Again, the guilt that had clawed at her insides earlier pinched once again. Really, how would she feel if Harry suddenly started flaunting himself in front of other people to put her nose out of joint? George had made it perfectly clear in their little 'chat' (more of a scheme, thought Hermione morosely) that Fred cared very much for his new 'interest' – more than he had ever done for Katie. He had been speaking to George of it for months – but never mentioning her name. She was at Hogwarts; that's was all George knew – and that she was very unlikely to ever love his twin brother the way he liked her.

"Well, that's true." Thought Hermione to herself. "I could never love him at all after what he did to George, even if he does like me that much…" Her insides squirmed again, but this time with a different feeling. Excitement, perhaps? It was indeed very flattering to be thought of in such a way, especially by someone who was regarded as 'quite a catch' by many of her year mates. Notably Lavender and Parvati. After Hermione had divulged her secret to George – the letters from Fred, and his sudden inexplicable interest in her – George had confirmed her suspicions.

"Of course! I don't know why I didn't think of it before! He used to ask about you during mealtimes – very slyly of course, but I know him too well – and he also used to make fun of Ron all the time for liking you…-" he stopped suddenly, and glanced at Hermione anxiously.

"Oh, believe me, I already know," she sighed heavily. "I'll need to sort that out at some point…"

George blew out his cheeks in relief. "Phew! That could have been embarrassing. Anyway, remember that time you shouted at us in front of everyone in the common room? For doing trick shop trials on the first years?" Hermione nodded, smiling slightly.

"Well, he seemed to take that quite badly," George continued. "Seemed to be a lot more upset than I thought he would be that you'd got so angry…"

Hermione realised that she was smiling and tried to muffle the warm feeling that was spreading across her body. Fred was a cheat, a liar! She couldn't fall for him, not now! Not after what she had promised George she would do…

Falling back on her bed, Hermione screamed and jumped up, realising she'd landed on something soft and… feathery. Spinning round, she saw a mass of blue and yellow before a heavy mass landed squarely in the centre of her head, and settled down.

"Tobago! Get off!" Screeched Hermione, shaking her head violently. Tobago merely hooted comically, enjoying the swaying sensation. "Tobago!"

With a final shake, Tobago was thrown clear of Hermione and fluttered down onto her bed, clutching a bit of parchment in his beak. Hermione reached for the parchment, but the owl jumped out of reach and hooted loudly. Trying again, Tobago fluttered over her hand so she missed his beak by a good metre. She put her hands on her hips and glared.

"Why do you have a personality just like your master!" She asked in desperation, reaching again for the letter and meeting the same response. Tobago's dark eyes glinted, he was obviously laughing at her. Falling back onto her pillow and lying down, Hermione closed her eyes slowly.

"If you don't want to give it to me fine, I just will ignore you until you do. I don't care!" Hermione's mouth twitched in response to her words, which were so obviously untrue. She wanted nothing more than to see what Fred had written to her, already her insides were squirming with nerves about what he'd think of her display at dinner. Lying still, she felt a warm fluffy lump flutter onto her stomach and hoot sadly.

Opening one eye slightly, she couldn't help but laugh at Tobago's miserable expression. He couldn't seem to believe that their game was over so fast. Stroking him gently, Hermione picked up the piece of parchment that he'd dropped and opened it in trepidation… a note was scribbled, obviously in a hurry.

Hermione,

Meet me by the treehouse in the back field as soon as you can. It's urgent.

Fred.

Hermione sat up like a shot, and crept over the bay window. Squinting through the early evening towards the back field, her heart was hoping that she wouldn't see what she dreaded. But then she saw it – the lone, black figure standing beneath the large oak tree in the distance. As she watched, the figure turned round hopefully towards the house, as if hoping someone would join them. Hermione drew back from the curtain in horror. Her and Fred, alone in a field? The thought filled her with new found confidence but slight trepidation.

"Fred..." she whispered, willing him to hear her from so far away. "I'm coming…" and with that, she grabbed her cloak and ran out the bedroom.

Outside in the field, as if in response, the lone figure looked directly towards her window and smiled.