For those of you who complained about Hermione being too uptight, I reread my writing and agreed with you, so she's beginning to loosen up. I just made her that way because she was the only girl and everyone picked on her…but anyways. If she's not better, I give you permission to strangle me. Peace out.

Disclaimer: HP JK

George was jostled from his thoughts by a red-headed blur shooting past him, and he heard a faint 'whoop!' as his twin threw himself down the hill. His prankster instincts took over and he followed in suit, hitting the soft grass with a thump! before rolling sideways down the hill, gaining speed and wishing the sky and ground would stop flipping in circles. He spotted a jumble of black about three feet in front of him and threw out his appendages in an attempt to stop, but to no avail: he crashed into his brother, sending them both sprawling. George looked left and saw Hermione pinned by Ron, squealing helplessly with mirth, and in a fit of…er..something, George sprung over and relieved his brother from the task. George immediately grabbed at her sides, chuckling as tears of laughter trickled down her face.

"G..George…st..stop! P…ple…please!" she gasped out in between giggles, fruitlessly trying to free her pinned hands.

He only refreshed his assault, putting his face three inches from hers and telling her, "Only if you tell us where we are."

"N..Never!" she yelled, causing both Fred and Ron to join in the battle. Hermione's face clenched in an effort to not give up, but the attempt was futile. Muffles jumped into the fray, licking her face and smothering her upper body in incredibly tickly purple fur.

"Agh!" Hermione screamed in defeat. "Alright, alright! I give!" Ron and Fred moved away, but George stayed on her, pinning her down for…uh…reassurance that she would really tell them. Yeah, that was it.

"We're about a mile away from Diern Alley, Belgium." she answered, wiping tears from her face. She was about to continue her explanation, figuring none of them would know about it, when a slightly winded voice spoke from behind them.

"Hey, I've heard of that. It's a little wizarding village, located inside of a low hill. It's designed to look like an ancient burial ground, so the only Muggles who come by are archaeologists. Ancient wizards put spells on it, so whoever came too close would be chased out by the living dead--it keeps Muggles away and keeps the zombies amused. Win-win situation, wouldn't ya say?" said Harry, bending down to give Muffles a good scratch.

They all watched the show of affection with smiles on their faces, but Ron quickly noticed that Muffles had a slightly red tinge to his fur. Ron looked up at Harry and opened his mouth, before realizing that Harry, too, was in a full-body blush.

"The sun's setting!" he said in surprise, noticing the flaming ball that was, indeed, sinking slowly behind a low hillock. "C'mon, I'd say we have about ten minutes before the daylight's gone."

Ron, as it turns out, was almost right. Five minutes into their hike someone switched the sun off, and the long gray shadows melted into inky blackness. Hermione boldly led the way, relying on the feeble light her wand emitted. "We have to be there by now" she muttered to herself, although the others could hear her perfectly. "Where is it?…Ouch!" Hermione groaned as her toe hit something hard. She held her wand closer to the offending article, whispering excitedly, "Oh, good! It's a gravestone." the relief was audible in her voice, but her joy was dampened by a low guttural moan…coming from the ground.

"What was that?" squeaked Ron, clutching onto Harry's shoulder.

"Don't panic, Ron." whispered Harry, although his voice was high-pitched.

"Just for the record, we are all wizards here, right?" asked Fred, the light tone usually present in his voice gone. His eyes, along with everyone else's, traveled to Hermione's pale face.

"Zombies hate Muggles."

"Even half-Muggles?" asked George, involuntarily moving closer to Fred.

"Even half-Muggles." she confirmed, barely audible.

She then screamed bloody murder as something clutched at her bare ankle. It wrapped itself mercilessly around her delicate flesh, cold and hard and unforgiving. Something sharp raked across her heel, and something warm trickled down into her shoe. It was this more than anything that aroused a serious feeling of danger in Hermione, and her defense mode kicked into high gear. She clutched at whatever had a hold of her, wrenching with shaking hands.

"Help me!" she wailed to the fear-struck teens surrounding her.

Harry lowered his wand automatically to her foot, gasping with surprise as the eerie green light outlined the skeletal hand of one long dead, the wretched bones clasped tight and the connected arm protruding from the ground. He immediately dropped his wand and grasped at the hand, his hands slippery with Hermione's blood and his fingers numb with cold. It shouldn't be this cold. It's July. Why is it so cold? Thought Harry as he felt the bones give way to his powerful hands. Hermione gave a desperate wrench and threw herself backwards. George clutched onto her, unable to tell if he was shaking or if she was or if it was a collective effort. The zombie let go but gave an enraged growl from below the surface, and it was all the sign they needed to get the hell out of there. As they ran, they could hear the spectral moans and creaks of heavily arthritic bones of zombies as they hauled themselves from ancient graves. If any of them had cared to look behind them, they would have seen an entire army of the brutes, running pell-mell towards the frightened wizards.

Hermione had just yelled that they were almost to the entrance when a realization hit Harry with such force he stopped running. "My wand! I left it…back there…" Harry turned, but Hermione grabbed his robes, her eyes filled with the speeding zombies. "Accio wand!" she yelled, as another realization hit Harry: he was an idiot. The wand came zooming over the heads of the zombies and Hermione turned as soon as it was reunited with its master. She began beating against a gravestone on the ground with her feet, before jumping on top of it and hopping up and down. George was torn between asking whether she was crazy, had a bee in her shorts, or was doing something to open the door into the village when the gravestone sunk into the ground, dragging Hermione down with it.

They all crowded around the gaping hole and were relieved to see their friend safe…on a cobblestoned street? She yelled frantically up at them to jump down, and they did so without further ado. As soon as Muffles was clear she rapped the sunken stone sharply on the side, sending it rocketing up to fill the hole and bash the leading zombie in the head. Harry sighed with relief, and sank down against a dusty store window. Fred, however, would hear none of it, and ran off down the street to a well-lit pub. A sign above it flashed, "Frog Guts Pub."

"Come on, I'm starving!" yelled Fred, before opening the door. A dramatic increase in volume followed, but was quickly shut off by the slamming of the door as Fred disappeared from view.

"Doesn't waste any time, does he?" asked Harry, struggling to lighten the mood. They were all still badly shaken, even Fred. George could tell by the way he had run to his only comfort: food.

Hermione laughed weakly, while performing a complex healing charm on her foot. "Must run in the family." she said, looking pointedly at Ron. "Oh, ew." Ron stopped chuckling to look at what Hermione had just picked off her skin: a rotten old piece of tendon: a gift from the zombie. She flicked it away disgustedly, wondering if it was just her imagination, or if the tendon had really started twitching while she held it. She hobbled quickly down the street after the Bottomless Pit.

By the time the thoroughly shaken group made it to the pub, Fred had ordered a round of butterbeers and reserved two rooms. They plunked themselves down and relayed their orders to the skinny blonde waitress, then watched as she shifted gracefully through the madly dancing crowd. They didn't last long once the meals and butterbeers were finished; the cigarette smoke was slowly giving them throbbing migraines and the music wasn't helping.

There was a scuffle for room arrangements that ended up in a heated competition of Papyrus-Quill-Wand. Fred, George, and Hermione filed slowly into Room 5, while Harry, Ron, and Muffles entered 6. Five's occupants quickly changed into pajamas, allowing Hermione the bathroom, and they had a quick laughing bout over her ducky pajamas. She playfully stuck out her tongue at both of them, before kidnapping Fred's stuffed mouse and leading him on a wild goose chase throughout the hotel. He lost her after a minute and spent five searching for her on the third floor, before giving up, walking back to his room, and finding Hermione zonked out on her bed, Burrow the mouse tucked securely under her arm. Fred smiled and pulled the covers up to her chin, giving her an awkward pat on the head before hopping into his bed and falling into a dreamless sleep.