(((A/N: Iiiii'm back!

SpikesDreamerThank You Thank You Thank You! I'll try to get more! And yes, Fred and slight lack of coverage mix well. :-D

angryteabag—haha, I like the energy! I get impatient too.

CrazyGirl2092aww you make me feel good inside! I LOVE F&H fics…they're so…not H&R or H&H and I love that :-D

PaulyThank you kindly!

Morena-Forever—I'm workin' on it!

elka78- oh, a Lisp is like, a talking thing, where you kind slur your words….like, lets see…um…the word 'swing' would come out like 'thwing'…Its kinda hard to explain.

wannabe-hermionedon't feel too sorry for Ron…he'll get over it and move on (I hope)

the blonde barbieI think you and me think a lot a like!

sandiwandihermione isn't exactly hot, she's just grown up and matured since the boys last saw her…and gotten a lot prettier :-D)))

Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, and Ginny got back late that night, weighed down with bags on bags of shopping. Sure, most of Ginny's things were second hand and needed for school, while Hermione's were new and some were frivolous, but just the same, the girls were happy and content with their purchases. They stepped out of the fireplace before the flames singed them and dropped everything on the kitchen table.

"Well now girls, it looks like the boys have made dinner and gone on to bed." Mrs. Weasley stood in the center of the kitchen, hands on hips, and looking around. Pots and plates were piled in the sink, dishes were left on the table, some kind of strange sauce concoction ran down the sides of the cabinets, and fingerprints were left all over the place. Mrs. Weasley rolled up her sleeves and started running water in the sink.

"Ginny, go wake up your father, Ron, and Harry; Hermione, go get the twins. We will not be cleaning up their mess. Then go on to bed girls." Ginny giggled and ran up the stairs, and Hermione followed close behind. She walked to the end of the hallway, down the short hallway in front of Ginny's room, and knocked on the third door on the right side.

"What the devil—?" A voice from inside cried out. Hermione pushed open the door and let some light in on the dark room. There were two twin beds, a dresser, a couple night tables, and a huge green rug on the floor.

"George, Fred, your mother says you have to come downstairs and cleanup the mess you've made in the kitchen." She watched as one of the beds started to move, and a very tired George climbed out of it, grumbling the whole time. She watched as he shrugged on his robe and started towards the door. He reached towards the other bed and started to shake the huge bundle of covers.

"C'mon Freddy, we have to go down to the kitchen." The figure in the bed didn't move. "Freddy?" He shook again. "FRED!" He finally yelled, then threw back the covers and Fred—

wasn't there.

George got a perplexed look on his face, then looked under the covers, on top of the covers, on the sides of the bed, and finally got on his hands and knees on the floor and looked under the bed.

"He's gone!" George said loudly, scratching his head, then got a devilish look on his face. "He's probably snuck away again like he did last night…I wonder what he's up to." George said thoughtfully as he walked towards Hermione and the still open door. He brushed past Hermione and walked down the stairs. Hermione could hear the rest of the males in the house stirring, grumbling, and following him down the stairs. She still stood at the open door to George's room.

"Where's Fred--?" She said quietly to herself, and then a thought occurred to her. She walked across the room towards the door on the other side that connected to Fred's—her—room. She swung open the door and looked in. Fred sat in a big chair in the corner of the room (one that had not been there when she'd left earlier in the day) under a floor lamp that was glowing with golden light (also, just appeared) reading. He had on his pajama bottoms, no top, and his hair was wilder looking than ever. He was so absorbed in the book, he didn't even notice when Hermione called his name.

"Fred!" She called again. This time he snapped his head up, startled, to look at her.

"Oh, hey Hermione. Are you ready to go to bed? I'll just—"

"No."

"What?"

"No, that's okay, you can stay here. I mean, your mother wanted you to clean up the mess you boys made downstairs, but that's okay, you can stay here, I won't tell on you." She said, smiling at him while she slipped in the room and quietly closed the door behind her. She walked over to where he was sitting and looked over his shoulder.

"What are you reading?" She asked quietly.

"A book about Quidditch." He said, looking up at her. He had a sad, needy look in his eyes that made Hermione wonder.

"You really miss it don't you?" She asked. He nodded.

"More than you'll ever know…" He muttered. He got a sort of far-away look in his eyes, but promptly shook it off. "Look at me, talking away while I'm sure all you want to do is get dressed and go to bed."

"No, that's all right, I'm not even tired. I'm just going to go and change and I'll be right back." She grabbed her t-shirt and shorts from under her pillow and ran quickly to the bathroom to get changed. She was done less than ten minutes later and back in her room. Fred still sat in the big chair, light glowing and giving his hair a golden tint, absorbed in the book once again. When she walked in, he hopped out of the chair and told her to sit down. When she declined, he grabbed her wrist and gently tossed her into the chair. She laughed and rolled her eyes.

"Men…" She muttered, not realizing that Fred was thinking along the same lines.

"Women…" He said at the same time. They both laughed again, and Fred plopped himself down on the floor at Hermione's feet and stretched out on his stomach.

"So, how was shopping?" He asked her. Hermione shrugged.

"It was okay." It had been going great; she and Ginny were having a wonderful time before they met Mrs. Weasley for lunch. Then she just had to start in on the perfect match—Hermione and Ron—together for life. She mentioned how sweet they were together and how excited she was that Hermione might be soon a part of the family and etcetera and etcetera and etcetera. Hermione loved the woman, but she was on the verge of pinching her head off. Hermione found herself telling Fred about his mother and her expectations.

"Aww Hermione, don't worry. She'll get over it. She has always expected me to marry Katie Bell, but George has his heart set on her, and I think she may be in love with him. So you and I can be Mum's two disappointments together, okay?" He smiled up at her and winked.

"Okay…" She'd never noticed how sweet Fred was. They talked for another three hours, before Fred finally rolled over and stretched, yawning.

"Anyway, I heard everyone else come up about an hour ago, so they're probably asleep and I can sneak back into my room. He hopped up off the floor and waited while Hermione got out of the chair and perched herself lightly on the bed before whisking the light, chair, and book back into thin air where they belonged. "Goodnight Hermione." He said as he walked out of the room.

"Goodnight Fred, sleep tight."

The summer holidays passed quickly. Fred and George spent a good portion of every day in the garden shed, which they had converted into a make-shift lab where they'd test ideas and theories for the shop. Harry and Ron spent most of the days playing Wizards Chess or Gobstones, Ginny wrote sickeningly sweet letters everyday to Seamus, who was in Ireland with his parents visiting his Gran, and Hermione spent most of her days wandering around from person to person. Some days she sat with Ginny and talked, some she was just quiet and watched Harry and Ron's friendly (well, most of the time) competitions, sometimes she helped Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen. But her favorite days, by far, were the Tuesdays and Fridays. On those days, George would get all cleaned up and go to Diagon Alley to meet with Katie, leaving Fred alone in the lab working on some new concoction. After George was gone, Hermione would sneak into the lab, sit on a stool near the work table, and watch Fred while he mixed and stirred and tested his Pranks. They'd have long conversations about his ideas for the shop, Hogwarts, Hermione's schooling, what was going to happen to both of them in the future, and so on. As the summer fell to a close, and her last year at Hogwarts approached, Hermione was starting to dread the start of the school year, and the loss of her new family—and friends. She found herself missing Fred the most of anyone. She'd never gotten along as well with George, and though Charlie, Bill, and Percy dropped in every week, she found that she just couldn't get as close to anyone else. Fred knew almost as much about her as Harry and Ron, even though they had known her much longer. The difference, she supposed, was the fact that Fred took the time to sit and listen to her, talk to her, while Harry and Ron just talked and expected her to do all the listening.

She sat on the bed in Fred's room and looked around the room. It had been home for little over three months, and she loved it dearly. She remembered the late night talks she used to have almost every night with Fred, Ginny sometimes joining them, but mostly they were alone. She remembered the arguments she and Ron had gotten in, over a game or an idea or a thought, and she'd stormed up here to get away from him, only to be followed and comforted by Mrs. Weasley or Ginny. She remembered the early morning jolts she'd get when George and Fred snuck in to play a 9:00 joke on her early in the mornings, by spraying her with cold water. Everything about this place was wonderful, and it seemed too soon to leave. The only downside had been the constant nudges towards Ron. Like the comments—

"This is your home too!"

"Maybe when you and Ron…"

" Someday soon…"

Hermione soon grew sick of the outrageous expectations. She ignored them well, and laughed most of them off, but much like that second night, Hermione found herself pouring it all out on Fred. She looked around her bed and at the bags on her feet and decided she should go. The Weasleys were waiting for her downstairs.