The next morning Hermione went to her desk to write her reply before the morning post came, and some time before her parents had woken up. The hour ticked by on her clock, from outside her room she could hear the grumbles of her father and smell the busy cooking of her mother.

"Good morning Hermione," her mother kissed her forehead as she entered the room. Hermione's parents were Muggles, but she loved them as much as any fully certified witch would love their parents, magical or not.

"Morning mum," Hermione replied, still a little bit tired.

"Did you have a good time yesterday with that Krum fellow?" Her mother asked as she slabbed pancakes onto her plate. Hermione reached for the syrup and began drenching the stack of cakes with it, and finally taking a bite.

"It was fine." Hermione said nothing more and looked at her letter she was sending Viktor.

Just then a screech owl, that carried Hermione's issue of the Daily Prophet, came swooping in through the window. Hermione pulled a small skin pack out of her pocket and pulled out a Sickle, putting it in the pouch around the owl's neck. "And can you deliver this to Viktor Krum? He's in London at the moment . . ." the screech owl took the parchment letter in his beak and then flew off again. Her mother just started at her. "What?" Hermione questioned softly.

"Nothing dear." She replied obsolete.

"Mum," Hermione began to ask shakily. Her mother whirred around to face her young daughter. "What if, say a boy, asks you out but you're not sure how you feel about him?" Her mother smiled at her confession.

"Viktor is a nice boy, and it would be a shame to, how do you kids say it, blow him off?"

"But I didn't --"

" You didn't have to. I was your age once. And just as beautiful as you are now, there's no reason why men wouldn't be asking you out on a date."

"Date? What date? With who?" Hermione's father came in very defensively.

Her mother walked over to him and calmed him down. "Hermione has a date with that Viktor Krum we saw in London the other day."

"It's not a date dad." Hermione said heavily. "Viktor--just invited me to dinner, that's all. Nothing to go all hysterical about."

While Hermione talked with her parents, Pig slipped out the window and flew back home to the Weasleys.

Ron paced back and forth, outside looking for the small bird, but nothing. Pig came back only a second later, however, he wasn't given the warm welcome that he had deserved. Angry with Ron's lack of concern, Pig bit him on his hand causing it to bleed. Ron threw his hand back in pain and began to suck on it, but quickly realizing that it had no effect, he immediately dressed the wound. "Bloody bird," Ron said in anger and walked out of his room to join his mother and father for breakfast.

"Morning Ronald, finally decided to wake up have you?" As the tea pot poured Mr. Weasley a cup of tea for himself, Mrs. Weasley was able to graciously hug and kiss her son.

"Morning mum, morning dad." Ron sat next to his father, who happened to be reading the Daily Prophet.

"Look at this dear, Viktor Krum is in London to play against the Chudley Canons. Ron, maybe you'd--" Mrs. Weasley quickly stopped her husband before he could make any suggestion about Krum.

Ron just sat there, picking at his food. Mrs. Weasley sat down and looked at her husband and then to her son, the last Weasley to still live at the Burrow. There was a moment of an uncomfortable silence, lingering over the table. Just days away from Valentine's Day and Ron had yet to have confessed his love for Hermione, and even though others knew of her feelings for him, they never said a word of it.

Soon after breakfast was over, Mr. Weasley left for work at the Ministry of Magic. Ron, young in age, had yet to find a job outside the Order. With his mother pestering him about it all the time, he often left the Burrow saying he went job searching, but really left to just browse around, hoping to find something to do.

On his way to Diagon Alley, Ron was oblivious to the fact of the people he would run in to.

"Look who we have here, Mr. Weasley." One man said to the other.

"Yes, I do see, but I just don't believe it," the other man stepped in front of Ron.

"Fred, George. Would you move," Ron addressed his older twin brother aggravated.

"Ow, not very friendly today are you little brother?" Fred put his hand to his chest, pretending to be hit by a hard blow. "Why don't you come into our shop, mum told us how you need to find work--"

"Other than the Order of course. Besides, what better place to work than Weasley Wizarding Wheezes. After all, you're still a Weasley."

Before Ron could even make an attempt at escaping, his two brothers pulled him in to their shop.

From the outside, one would probably think of the shop being as small on the inside as it was on the outside. Of course, then again with the power of magic, nothing was as it seemed. The shop was spacious, at least as big as an apartment. It had all the inventions and products of the Weasley twins' latest and firsts. Upon the entrance of the shop, a medium sized plaque was engraved with a dedication.

Made possible by the generosity of Mr. Harry Potter and in memory of Mr. Cedric Diggory.

Harry Potter, or famously known as 'The boy who lived' was generous enough to hand over his winnings to Fred and George, but after a short disagreement of the twins, as the Weasleys were never too big on accepting grand prizes, so they both made a promise to dedicate the store to him. Although Harry never found time to go inside, what with his training to be an Auror. The little shop was also dedicated to the memory of Cedric, who was a good friend of theirs. It was his death, at the same time Harry selflessly handed over his Triwizard winning. All that so long ago.

Fred and George both walked behind the counter, dragging their brother along with them, and into a room that was almost an equal size as the shop that they just walked through. The twins took their seats behind two individual oak fine desks. "Don't be shy little brother." George said first, and gestured to a chair.

"Sit," Fred finished. Ron did what he told him and sat down. "Now," Fred started off. "What seems to be bothering you?"

Ron shifted in his seat. 'How could they know?' He thought to himself.

"Its only obvious, Ron." George said as if answering his thoughts. "Anyone with eyes can see how smitten you are with Hermione." Ron deeply blushed and both of his brothers laughed. "Come on Ron, why don't you just tell her how you feel?"

"I already did," Ron said quietly. The twins were taken aback. They sat upright in their chairs and leaned in to hear their brother explain. "I sent a letter to her last night, telling her everything I ever felt about her."

"And?" Fred and George listened intensively.

"I didn't get a reply." The two men groaned.

"You said you sent her a letter," Ron nodded, almost unable to contain his smile. "Then there's only one thing left to do . . . "

"What's that?" Ron asked, and even George looked at his other half questioningly.

Fred leaned in again, as did the other two. "You go to her in person and tell he how you truly feel about her." George leaned back and gave a little laugh.

"This, coming from you," George laughed heartedly. "You have yet to even get a girl for yourself," George threw his head back and gave a great big, hollering laugh.

"I haven't managed to find the right girl because of you." George suddenly stopped laughing.

"Hold on, cause of me?" George acted surprised. "You're the one who looks so hideous."

"You should take a look in the mirror, you look just like me." This started an argument and Ron realized his brothers were no longer paying attention to him anymore.

He left the shop with the twins still bickering and continued to browse around in the other stores.