Chapter Six

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Not mine! Sorry, very short, very filler chapter.

Almost a week after Christmas, Hermione woke earlier than necessary. As with most good things, the rest and relaxation time that had been so welcomed at the start of her holiday was becoming excessive. By no means did she want to return to work, but she often found herself searching for ways to remain occupied throughout the day. She had quickly finished off much of her reading list, excitedly working her way through several classics and a couple Muggle books that her mother had recommended in a recent letter. Diagon Alley still had a layer of snow, so Hermione decided to explore the wizard shopping centre and enjoy the winter. She pulled her new violet Weasley jumper over her flimsy, white tee-shirt and slid her checkered wellingtons over the skinny legs of her jeans. The cold spell had subsided since Christmas and Hermione figured she'd be fine with just the jumper, but she did tug her ivory knit cap over her bushy hair and grabbed a matching pair of mittens.

The air was still cool, but Hermione wasn't uncomfortable in only her jumper. Diagon Alley was packed with wizard and witches: keenly shopping for last minutes deals, passing time in the clear day, or meeting up with friends. Students were in full force, picking up last-minute supplies before they returned to Hogwarts for the second half of the school year. Occasionally, acquaintances – past classmate or colleagues – would stop Hermione to chat, but for the most part she just walked in peace. As she had grown accustomed to, she noticed several parents pointing her out to their intrigued-looking children. Hermione was sure that they would be explaining her involvement in the final battle at Hogwarts. She knew that the defeat of Voldemort was taught in the History of Magic. She, Harry, and Ron had even each earned chapters in the subsequent revision of Hogwarts: A History. Hermione generally ignored such attention though, not wanting to call awareness to her celebrity.

When Hermione wandered past the Weasley twins' shop – the Weasley Wizard Wheezes – she immediately was overwhelmed by the amount of noise emanating from the building. The area surrounding the shop was filled with giggles, cheers, whirls, dings, bangs, pops, buzzes, and clangs, all coming from the store. Hermione smiled instinctively, imagining the joy that must be occurring on the inside. It had been some time since Hermione had visited the popular joke shop, so she decided to go in to explore and to see what possible changes had occurred since she had last been in the shop. Besides, there was always something magical about visiting the twins' store.

Hermione opened to door to the sound of chimes. The interior of the shop was an explosion of colour and an overload of images. There was a cloud of smoke rising in one corner that Hermione wasn't sure was intentional. Everywhere she looked, something interesting captured her attention. Despite the numerous exciting displays, the shelves were fairly sparse. Hermione noticed many young workers – all clad in the signature, bright magenta robes embroidered with the WWW crest – running frantically around the floor trying to restock the shelves. She figured that they were still trying to get resettled following the Christmas rush. Looking around, Hermione imagined that the Weasley Wizard Wheezes' employees would have to continue working hard for some time; the store was still crowded with customers. Students seemed desperate to exchange their Christmas money for the twin's prank products. Most were grinning mischievously at the prospective trouble they would cause with their purchases. It made Hermione glad that she was no longer a Head Girl at Hogwarts. Wizards and witches who were well past childhood and into their late teens and adult years were also gleefully pawing through the remaining Weasley's products. Hermione smiled; the twin's brand of humour certainly knew no age limits.

Walking through the shop, Hermione found herself grinning madly at the twin's products that were on display. She paused when a dancing teddy bear caught her attention. The miniature, pale yellow bear was doing pirouettes, summersaults, and ridiculous jumps and spins while surrounded by a soft, tinkling music. According to the label beside the bear, it was called the Dancing Butterbear; a name that Hermione had to admit wasn't the twin's finest idea. Hermione glanced at the wooding sign hanging above the aisle in which she was standing. "Weasley's Toys for Tots," the sigh read in loopy, bright orange italics. She hadn't been aware that the twins had extended their products to include toys for very young children. Sighing affectionately for her old friend, she realized that it must have been inspired by Fred having become a father.

"Granger!" – A loud voice startled her out of her concentration – "Oi, what you doing in the babies' section?" George said, peering around the corner of a shelf at her. He jogged down the aisle, stopping next to her. No matter what he was wearing, George always managed to look casually debonair. His dark, blue button down shirt, left open at the top to reveal his neck, and loose jeans proved no exception. His shaggy hair was messy and tousled, as if he had been running or standing outside in wind. The bright red locks stuck up in the back and curled over his forehead and around his good ear. Although it was disheveled, it suited him well. He smiled teasingly, his crooked grin bringing light to his angular features. "Is there something you're not telling us all, Mione?" He continued in a joking singsong.

"Er…no real reason…I was just exploring the whole store," Hermione stammered. She hadn't necessarily intended for her aimless wandering to bring her to the infant's section. It didn't really mean anything, she assured herself; it wasn't the result of any deep-seated, tacit desires. "What brings you here today? I thought you weren't working here anymore…" She asked.

"Yes, but Granger, I do own this store. I can come here whenever I feel like," He said, stuffing his hands into his jean's pockets. The slouched posture did not, Hermione noted despite her better judgment, lessen his attractiveness in the least. "I can take whatever I like too," George laughed, reaching over and grabbing a small item off the shelf. "Hmm…baby monitor," He read, glancing at the box-shaped item in his hand. "Seems this senses when your baby is about to cry and wakes you beforehand so that you can be prepared." Shaking his head ruefully, George placed the item back on the shelf. "Hmm…don't need that….honestly, what has my dear brother been getting up to while I've been away?"

"Seems to me as if he's been growing up, having kids, designing products that might actually help people," Hermione volunteered with a chuckle.

"Ugh," George pronounced with an over-exaggerated groan. "That's not what this store is all about. We're supposed to be helping people prank their instructors or disturb first-years, not help them raise their children." Although he had adopted a frustrated tone, Hermione could tell by the glimmer in George's eye and the smile twitching at the corners of his mouth that he spoke largely in jest.

"You know, I've been telling you all along that if you two applied your intelligence to useful things, you could really create some amazing stuff…maybe Fred has finally realized that…" Hermione teased speculatively.

"Oi, that's right, isn't it Granger," George laughed, pushing Hermione gently on her shoulder. "You almost stood in the way of this store ever happening." He smiled and continued in a ridiculously high-pitched, bossy tone: "Pranks aren't useful…stop testing product on first years…you should focus on your studies…I ought to give you detention."

"I never sounded like that," Hermione exclaimed with faked outrage, begrudgingly admitting that he wasn't entirely off with his impression. "If anything, I was always rather generous with what I allowed you two to get away with at school." She laughed and motioned as though she was going to hit George on the chest with a balled up fist. He chuckled and firmly grasped Hermione by her shoulders.

"Just taking the Mickey out of you, Mione…no hard feelings…." He grinned impishly and held his palms up in front of him. "Although…I should suggest to Fred that a nice touch to the store would be to have a large picture of you up on one wall…label it with something like: 'This girl thinks we're rubbish,' or something along those lines.." He said teasingly, hooking his front two fingers of both hands, forming quotations in the air.

"Very funny, Weasley" – Hermione rolled her eyes sardonically – "I don't think you're rubbish, and you know it."

"Well if you insist…" George grinned infectiously.

"You're a riot, Weasley," Hermione teased, peering through her eyelashes at George. "So, what actually brings you in here today?"

"Well…I was out, running some errands for the party tomorrow. Thought I'd come in and say hi to Fred, Lee, and the rest…"

"Oh yah, your party tomorrow…I can't believe I forgot about that…" Hermione smiled; she had remembered George's party. In fact, the day before she had spend considerable time trying on a number of her dresses, hoping to find one appropriate to wear.

"Don't even, Mione…I'm fully expecting you to show up."

"Don't worry, Weasley," Hermione laughed. "I'll do my best to show up,"

"You better be there, Mione,"