Well, we noticed we hadn't updated in quite a while, so we pounded one out for you last night. Enjoy!

7. Gold can't buy you love...but presents can.

A witch worth having will always prefer your company to extravagant gifts. Though you should present her with tokens of affection regularly, it is better to spend time than Galleons.

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Ronald's Tip: Short on Galleons? Remember, handmade is always more appealing and endearing than store-bought.

Friday, September 2003

"RON!"

I let out a strangled scream as Harry's panicked voice jerked me awake, and I promptly banged my head on the coffee table. "Ow!"

"Ron, mate, I completely forgot – what in Merlin's name are you doing under the coffee table?"

"Sleeping," I growled, crawling out from underneath the incriminating object and flopping onto the couch. "Until recently."

"Right," Harry said. His head was bobbing nervously in the fire. "Anyway, I'm really sorry, Ginny had me at some bloody dinner with the mayor of – it might've been chancellor – I don't really know, but we got back near four in the morning and I went absolutely blank and I – "

"Harry!" I shouted, cutting him off. "Spit it out, man!"

"Oh. Yes." He shook his head and adjusted his glasses with a smoldering finger. "I was supposed to remind you that it's Hermione birthday."

I stared blankly at him for a moment, and he stared expectantly back. And then it clicked.

"Bloody hell!" I leapt up from the couch, suddenly enough to make Harry's head bob backward with a tiny yelp. "What time is it? What time is it?"

"Come on, Ron, let's calm – "

"What time is it!"

"Quarter to seven!"

"Half an hour!" I sprang to my feet and dashed out of the sitting room, down the hallway, and into the bedroom. I had half an hour before Hermione came home and all hell broke loose. I couldn't believe I'd forgotten to get her a present – Ginny had even warned me a week ago to get something in advance. Cursing inwardly, I grabbed my wallet off the bedside table and peered inside.

"Need help?" Harry's voice called.

I groaned. "Not unless you've got a couple Galleons on you."

"Sorry, mate," Harry's voice drifted in apologetically. "I took a bet on the Cannons last night – a dare from Eddie Bishop, of all people, couldn't refuse – "

I let him ramble on as I racked my brains. I had a total of one Sickle and three Knuts, which could probably get me a bottle of crushed dung beetles from the apothecary or a pack of gum, neither of which Hermione would appreciate nor find intellectually stimulating. And there was no time to go to Gringotts, buy something, wrap it, and get myself back home without looking like I'd run a marathon. I cursed.

"…Could just make something," Harry was saying as I trudged out of the bedroom. "Last time I forgot our anniversary I whipped up a bouquet of flowers made out of paper, you know, the what's-it-called – ogirami? Keiko from the Harpies taught me how to make a swan once – "

"Harry, that's brilliant!" I cried, and pulled out my wand. In an instant, I had scissors, colored paper, Spell-o-tape, paper clips, pins, chopsticks, and a myriad of other useless objects cluttered around me on the floor. I scrutinized the materials as Harry looked on curiously.

"You look like a little kid," he observed unhelpfully. "Except for your mug, of course, which – "

"You're not helping," I growled. "What am I gonna do with this?"

"How about a book?" Harry suggested. "Or…flowers? Flowers are always good."

"But you did flowers. And Ginny probably told Hermione about it, so she'd know I got that idea from you."

Harry sighed. "Fine. What else does she like? Chocolate? Books? House-elves? Books? Mittens? Books?"

"I am not making a book," I snapped, "and if you don't make yourself useful I'm putting out the fire."

"All right, all right," Harry said hastily. "Er…cats? You could make a replica of Crookshanks. Eating Scabbers."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, not eating Scabbers," Harry amended. "Singing? Like those music box things?"

I nodded slowly. It sounded good. "Only how am I going to make that in…" I checked my watch. "Twenty minutes?"

"Just make it a hologram," Harry said. "Get a little box, and then have it so when you open it, the hologram comes up. With the song, of course."

"A hollow what?" I asked dubiously.

"Hologram," Harry repeated. "It's a, er, Muggle thing. Kind of like…an illusion. A virtual picture."

"A virtual picture," I said, scrunching my nose. "Virtual picture…Crookshanks… All right, I think I can do that. Now be helpful and think of a song."

"A song," Harry mused, and proceeded to mutter and sing tidbits of songs under his breath. I shot a Muffling Charm at him before picking out a jewelry box Great-Aunt Tessie had gotten Hermione the year before last. Hermione was convinced Great-Aunt Tessie had it in for her and refused to put anything in the box, so all I had to do was fix the gold latch. Then I picked up my wand and conjured an image of Crookshanks.

I figured Hermione wouldn't appreciate my version of him, so I gave him less bandier legs and un-squashed his face a bit. Then I added a small, evil little rat wearing a flower on its head to the picture, and made Crookshanks chase it. The whole thing was a lot harder than I'd expected, and even after a solid five minutes of tweaking, it still looked like Crookshanks was being jerked around by an invisible leash.

"Blast," I muttered. I checked my watch again – I had ten minutes. I quickly added a touch of grass, a tree, and a sun. Then I un-Muffled the fireplace, whereupon Harry's rendition of I'll Be Seeing You made me cringe. "Sorry to interrupt your caterwauling," I said dryly, "but how do I put this in the box?"

"Integration Charm," Harry said, not at all deterred, and resumed singing.

I rolled my eyes and moved the box under the picture I'd made. I'd only done the spell twice before, seeing as it was a relatively new creation (Neville's, as a matter of fact, devised originally to make hybrid plants or something of the sort), so I shut my eyes, muttered the incantation and hoped for the best.

Harry suddenly stopped singing. "That…looks good, mate," I heard him say, sounding rather impressed. "And I've got a song for you."

I cracked open one eye. "What is it?" I asked warily.

"Let me do it," he said, pulling out his wand.

"Through the fire?"

"I've done it before," he said dismissively. A jet of yellow light shot out of his wand toward the box, which promptly absorbed it.

"It better not be – I dunno, A Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Love or something," I warned him."

"Would I do that to you?" he asked innocently. Before I could answer, his face disappeared from the fire –

– just in time for me to hear Hermione knocking on the door.

I hastily stood up and sent everything flying back to where it came from. Hiding the box behind my back, I went to the door and opened it.

"Hello, dear," I said, holding the door as she swept in.

"Hello, Ron," she said tiredly.

"How was your day?"

She groaned as I took her coat. "Don't even get me started," she grouched as she walked into the kitchen. "The Serbian Minister still hasn't agreed to sign the deal on smuggled goods, Archie's in St. Mungo's for at least two days because he cut off three of his fingers doing God knows what, and the Hit Wizards keep complaining about faulty brooms."

I stood in the doorway and watched her make a cup of tea. "Rough day," I said empathetically.

She sighed and shook her head.

"That's unfortunate, it being your birthday and all."

"Sure doesn't feel like it," she grumbled.

"Well, maybe this'll help," I said, and set the box on the kitchen table. I quickly put my hands behind my back again and hoped she hadn't noticed that they were shaking.

She eyed it curiously. "What is it?" She didn't seem to recognize the box.

I nodded at it. "Go on. Open it."

She put down her teacup and picked up the box. I held my breath as she unlatched it and propped the lid open.

My hologram popped up perfectly. Crookshanks twirled around like a broken marionette while Scabbers scampered back and forth in the grass, precariously close to the tree, and a familiar melody drifted into the air.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,
You make me happy when skies are gray…
You'll never know, dear, how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away…

"Oh, Ron…" she whispered as her face broke into a wide smile. "Where did you get this?"

I could feel a grin stretching across my own face as I put my arms around her neck. "I made it," I shrugged, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"You made it?" she said incredulously.

"I suppose you think I'm not capable of such feats of genius," I sniffed, "and I am faintly insulted."

She didn't say anything, but continued to watch Crookshanks scuttle around to the song. I made a mental note to buy Harry a good bottle of firewhiskey tomorrow. Grinning to myself, I bent my head and kissed her cheek. "Happy birthday, Hermione."

She turned around to face me, holding the box between us. With a coy smile, she leaned toward me.

"You," she murmured against my lips, "are simply amazing."
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Song credit is You Are My Sunshine by Jim Davis, we think it is. Anyway, reviews would be excellent - and by the way, thanks for all the reviews for the previous chapter!