Fred Weasley stepped into his room and quietly shut the door. Despite the fact that several of his friends were in the living area of his and George's flat, his entire attention was focused on the lump underneath the bedspread. "Hermione," he called trying not to let a hint of the amusement he was feeling enter his voice, "come out from there."

"Sod off!" came the muffled reply.

"Luv, don't be like that. No one is going to say a word."

"I'm not coming out until everyone is gone. It is the only way I can keep what is left of my pride."

"What are you talking about? You should be filled with pride – you look bloody amazing in your red knickers and lacey top thingy."

Hermione's head popped up from behind the covers. Her hair was wild and her eyes were narrowed in outrage. "I can't believe you told me to come over here wearing something sexy since we would be alone tonight!"

"Not alone. A.L.O.N.E."

"What the bloody hell is that?" she demanded.

"Alicia, Lee, Oliver, Neville, Etc. It's the code George and I use whenever we are having a bunch of Gryffindors over."

Hermione blinked slowly twice in response to this revelation. Twice was not good. It wasn't as bad as three times, but Fred still knew that it meant she was not happy.

"And why, pray tell, Fred Weasley, would you want me to show up in something 'sexy' when you had plans to be surrounded by our former schoolmates?"

"Ur…" Hermione raised her eyes at what appeared to be Fred doing an impersonation of Ron as his face flushed red. "Well, you see, Lee might have mentioned that he was surprised that we were still dating."

"Really?" her tone was cold.

"Yea. But I told him that you were completely fascinating what with your cleverness, your wicked sense of humor, and the way you can get all sexy in the blink of an eye."

"Mmmm," Hermione hummed uncommitted. "Why didn't the conversation end there?"

"Because then George said that he'd never seen you turn on the sexy. And I told him that of course, HE hadn't since you just reserve the sexy for me. Unfortunately, Oliver couldn't drop it and bet George that you probably didn't even turn sexy for me. And, well, you know I hate missing out on a sure thing bet. So I sent you the note. But I swear, luv, I thought you would come over wearing your short green skirt or that black sweater that makes your tits—ur… your breasts look so good. I NEVER thought you'd Apparate over in sexy knickers and a camisole. I didn't even know you owned anything like that!"

Hermione's face was expressionless. "How much did you win?"

"What??"

"How much did you win?"

"Twenty-five Galleons."

"Ron and Harry and some of the old DA members are at the Burrow tonight," she informed him.

Fred was confused. "Do you want to get dressed and go over there?"

Hermione shook her head. "Do you think if we won another thirty Galleons, we could spend the weekend in Paris?"

Fred grinned in response. "Sexy, clever, and a wicked sense of humor, I swear, Hermione, there is no way I'll ever grow tired of us."