Disclaimer: Harry Potter is patented by JK Rowling…no wait, copyrighted. Harry Potter is copyrighted by JK Rowling.

A/N: Parts of this chapter have been quoted from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.

Chapter 61

Dear Fred and George,

Yes, I'm writing to you in particular. How did your O.W.L.s go? Did you pass enough to qualify? You didn't seem to be revising much. I hope you don't have any trouble from that.

I'm writing to you, though, because I wanted to ask your advice. Shocking, I know. You said you wanted to open a joke shop after you graduate, and I was thinking, if you've started working on products, then you've probably patented some of them. If not, you probably should. You know that method I came up with to brew potions using runes in my second year? I just found out I could have patented it. Instead, the apothecary is selling those rune blocks on its own.

But I had another idea. What if I could sell single use potions kits for specific potions for muggle-born families? It would have just the right amount of runes and ingredients for one batch of a potion from the first couple years' curriculum, pre-prepared as much as possible, like having the ingredients be pre-chopped and such. Muggles do things like this all the time with cooking. For example, they sell "cake mixes" that contain all the dry ingredients to bake a cake pre-mixed, so all you have to do is add water and eggs and put it in the oven. It probably sounds completely mental to you, but muggle parents will understand it better than what we do in class.

Ideally, what I would like to do is patent this idea and then license it to the apothecary to sell so that I could get a cut of the profits. It might make me a nice bit of spending money, but I don't really know how to go about it, which is why I was hoping to ask you for advice. So do you have any experience with patenting, or have you not reached that stage yet?

Incidentally, I'm still not sure I can condone a joke shop on a professional level, given the amount of rule-breaking it causes, but I think it's good to have concrete goals. Do you have a business plan? A product line? Startup capital? I might be persuaded to give your finances a look if you can give me a hand with my paperwork.

I hope you're summer's going well and that you haven't got in too much trouble. I'll try to visit a couple times before the fall.

Love from,

Hermione

P.S. I got a chance to talk to Mr. Ollivander. He said that wands with animal fibre cores activate the Trace, but wands with plant fibre cores don't, as long as they don't have certain runes on them. There's a lot more to wandmaking than we thought, though. I'll have to tell you about it when I visit. Anyway, now I can actually make my hair behave over the summer, so that's a plus.

Hermione was really surprising herself that she would touch something like a joke shop with a ten foot wand. She guessed that brewing illicit potions in a bathroom and seeing the abuses of the magical government had given her some perspective on school rules. And anyway, it wasn't like such shops didn't already exist.

The really amazing thing was that she believed the Twins could do it. Coming from most people, Hermione would have regarded a dream of opening a shop of any kind at age sixteen as just that. But if anyone could pull it off, Fred and George Weasley could. They were obviously passionate about it, she had seen them pull off amazing feats of magic for their age in their pranks, and she knew they had already been testing some products last year.

Given all that, perhaps it wasn't surprising that she liked having them around to help out with her arcane research projects. Few other wizards had that kind of curiosity or could think outside of the box like she could, and she had a feeling they'd be helpful with her own business idea.

Dear Hermione,

Oh boy, that's some letter. It's good to know some things haven't changed.

So, about those O.W.L.s…are you sitting down? We only got three O.W.L.s each. We'll let you rant here for a while. Yes, Mum's pretty mad too. Are you done? Okay, so we both passed Charms and Defence, Fred passed Transfiguration, and George passed Herbology. And you know we could've easily pulled off Potions if we had a decent teacher, so we've actually got all the core magic classes covered. We never took Runes or Arithmancy (sorry), but we can work around those, and we don't need any of the other classes to start our shop.

And you little sneak, you didn't tell us how your exam went. Come on, what new grade did they invent for you?

Ah, so you're getting into the business world now, too. We're so proud of you. *Sniff* You're telling us muggles pay people to cook half a recipe for them? You're not pranking us, are you? Yes, we are definitely patenting our products. We've already got a few registered. The great thing is we can do it nice and discreetly, so Mum doesn't find out. It's pretty simple. The Ludicrous Patents Office is under the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Don't ask why. We figure it just didn't fit anywhere else. Just write them and ask for an application, but just a warning, it'll go a lot smoother if you have a working prototype when you file it.

We talked it over, and we think the potions kit idea kind of makes sense, especially if you're right (and let's face it, when aren't you?) about muggles understanding it. In fact, the firsties could probably even use them to pass Snape's class. It should be a lot easier to use, except they'd have to sneak it past him, and that would be hard. Any chance you'd license your kits to us when we get our store started?

It's good to know we're no longer complete scoundrels in your book. Speak for yourself, George. Ha! Come on, Fred, you know girls prefer the scoundrel with a heart of gold. Anyway, we're glad you have some confidence in our career plans. Frankly, that's more than we can say for Mum.

Keep this under your hat for now, but we've already got the whole thing planned out. We're going to call our shop Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. We're going to spend our last two years at Hogwarts perfecting our product line and saving up to buy a building. We're going to try to ramp up to the kind of money we need by selling by mail order. Speaking of which, we've enclosed an order form in case you want to sample anything. We may take you up on that offer of analysing our finances.

You know, I always thought your bushy hair looked cute—George.

Yes, it really completed the fanatical arithmancer look—Fred.

We look forward to your visit. See if you can get Harry to swing by, too.

Managing mischief,

Gred and Forge

Dear Gred and Forge,

Thank you so much for your help. I've already sent for a patent application, and I've assembled a kit for the Boil-Cure Potion, complete with instructions and safety guidelines. Of course, I'll license my kits to you if you have a place for them. And no, I wasn't kidding about the cake mixes. And I'm trying to help muggle parents connect with their magical children better, you gits, not help the first years cheat!

Only three O.W.L.s each? I'll admit I was ranting about that for a while, but I decided I'll reserve judgement until I see how the shop does. But that's only because I've seen how smart you are in person. That's really not going to look good on a resume. That said, I'm glad to hear you have a well-thought-out long-term plan.

As for me, the Examiners only gave me an O…but it was an O with a special citation for having the highest score ever on that version of the exam.

Oh, trust me, you're still complete scoundrels in my book—but you're scoundrels who are improbably fun to have around. That was nice of you to say about my hair, too, but even if everyone else agreed with you about it, just try running a brush through it sometime.

Love from,

Hermione

Dear Harry,

How are things living with Sirius? I do hope it's loads better than living with the Dursley's. He's being reasonable with you, isn't he? Making sure you eat healthily and do your homework? You should really do it. I won't be around to tell you not to skive off next year.

How is Sirius faring? I know he must be having a hard time adjusting after everything that's happened. If he's having problems, you'd tell me, right? It's important that he gets help if he needs it.

It sounds like things are as chaotic as ever for the Weasleys. I'm actually working with Fred and George on a small project, if you can believe it. I know, I don't know what happened to the old Hermione either. As far as I can tell, Mrs. Weasley is snooping on the Twins, trying to figure out what they're up to. She's cross about their O.W.L. results because they won't be much good for a nice, respectable Ministry job, although honestly, I can't imagine those two ever working for the Ministry. In the meantime, Percy does have a nice, respectable Ministry job, now, and all his brothers and Ginny are making fun of him for it. Ron doesn't want to do his homework. Ginny's trying to prank the Twins and get away with it. And Mr. Weasley is just trying to keep the peace. But I'm sure Ron's told you everything—well, as much as he ever does.

I'm doing much better now that I don't have to cook dinner anymore—I'm rubbish at it, really. I'm still teaching myself left-handed wand handling, and I bought myself a textbook on abstract algebra, which I won't bother trying to explain in a letter. Suffice it to say, it's involved in quantum physics. Do you have any summer projects? It might be helpful to come up with one. You could probably stand to learn to cast left-handed, too or something like that.

Please don't hesitate to write me if you're in trouble. I've only got a few more weeks when I'll be around to make sure you stay alive. No offence, but I'm going to worry about you a lot more than my other friends. You do seem to have a knack for getting in trouble.

Love from,

Hermione

Harry smiled and shook his head. Same old Hermione, he thought. (Aside from her sudden interest in the Twins business interests.) He was grateful that she cared so much to look out for him like that, but she did get carried away sometimes.

Harry's life with Sirius might not have been the healthiest by the Grangers' standards. Certainly, Sirius wasn't a perfect parent. He didn't really know how to do it and was probably a little on the lax side, and sometimes he still lost his temper and started yelling, but he was always sorry about it right afterwards. And most importantly of all, he loved Harry, and Harry loved him back. He thought it was a great life. They had a little two-bedroom flat in London where they could lounge around all day if they wanted, and Remus could visit; Harry always got enough to eat, even if it wasn't as healthy as the fare at Hogwarts; Sirius spent long hours telling him about his parents and their time in school; and, yes, he was getting his homework done. He couldn't think of a single way in which it wasn't miles better than living with the Dursleys.

He picked up a quill and started penning a letter back to Hermione assuring her that everything was fine.

Dear Harry and Sirius/Weasley Family,

Oh my goodness! Have you seen what's happening with the comet? The pieces that have crashed into Jupiter so far have left great black clouds as big as the Earth! It's unbelievable how much power is getting blasted around up there. We talk about power with people like Dumbledore or nuclear weapons or hurricanes, and that's nothing. Mum and Dad drove me out to an observatory where we could see Jupiter through a big telescope like in that one class. It was amazing! We could see the flash from one of the impacts, but it wasn't just a flash; it was so big it went on for minutes. The whole thing's still going on. You should try to see it if you at all can. I don't have to do the report Professor Sinistra assigned on it, but I'm still going to collect some documents and photos for the Astronomy Professor at Beauxbatons to see. I'll send you copies.

Love from,

Hermione

Dear Hermione,

Mr. Weasley: I'm afraid we don't have the resources to see things up close like you do, but what we saw of Jupiter through the children's school telescopes was very interesting. It's amazing to think things can happen that are so big they change the face of an entire planet. You'll definitely have to send us a copy of those muggle documents. I've always wondered how they see things with their special telescopes.

Gred and Forge—Fred and George, honestly—Mrs. W.:

Hey Hermione, that's pretty neat about the comet. And inspiring. We may see if we can make some fireworks based on it. By the way, the Round of 16 of the World Cup is over. You got 6 out of the 8 matches right. Care to revise your predictions for the quarter-finals?

Ginny: Thanks for the advice. We couldn't see as much as you, but it was pretty cool. Are you going to visit soon? It gets annoying with only boys around. Well, there's Luna, but I can only take so much of her.

Ron: Blimey, Hermione, you still doing extra work? No, I'm kidding! I'm kidding! Really, guys! As if anything could stop you. I'm sure you could tell me all about it with fancy arithmancy talk. It still looked pretty cool, though.

Percy: A very interesting event, Miss Granger. I must say I was pleasantly surprised.

That's deep enthusiasm coming from Percy—R.

Mrs. Weasley: Thank you for your letter, dear. We'll be sorry to see you leave in the fall. You know our door is always open to you.

Sincerely,

The Weasleys

Dear Fred and George,

Enclosed, you will find my revised bracket for the remainder of the World Cup. My overall assessment is almost the same for the teams I picked correctly, except that I no longer think Peru has much of a chance, not with the way Transylvania played in the last round.

It seems you've taught me well. I'm currently in negotiations with Slug & Jiggers Apothecary to sell my Patented Wandless Potion Kits. I should be able to have at least a couple different kits on the shelves in time for the school shopping season. The Apothecary is assembling them, but I'm providing the packaging. I found a muggle printer's shop that was willing to print it for a fraction of what it would cost in Diagon Alley. Thank you, mass production. (I told them it was for a muggle fantasy board game.)

I wrote your mum—not about you. I think Harry and I will be able to come over for dinner on Saturday. Hopefully we'll see each other then.

Love from,

Hermione

Dear Hermione,

How's your summer been? It's going to be so much lonelier at school without you this fall. I'm sorry if you feel like I haven't been all that close to you. Parvati is, too. But we're really going to miss you. Do you think maybe we can meet up one last time this summer before you have to go to France? It'd be nice to see you again.

Lots of love,

Lavender Brown

Dear Lavender/Parvati,

My summer is going very well. Thank you for asking. I was grounded at the start for almost dying again, but the rest of it has been excellent. My parents and I had a nice dinner with Harry and the Weasleys last weekend, and I've been keeping up with all my usual projects. I've got a lot to say that I don't have time to write here, but I think we can manage to catch each other sometime. Maybe even lunch at the Leaky Cauldron.

By the way, when you do your shopping, take a good look in the apothecary for the new Wandless Potions Kits. I don't know if they'll be a big seller, but honestly, I should have thought to do that last year.

Love from,

Hermione

Dear Hermione,

Oh Merlin! You're only fourteen and you're already in retail? Tell us everything!

Lots of love,

Lavender and Parvati

(and Padma, surprisingly interested)

Dear Hermione,

I was wondering if you were perhaps going to the final of the Quidditch World Cup. If you weren't planning to, you may wish to consider it. It should still be possible to get a ticket, albeit not one of the better ones. It's rare for the World Cup to be held so close to home, so this is something of a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

I will be attending with my nephew and his family, and I would very much like for you to meet my grand-niece, Georgina. You will be able to find our tent in Section 15F.

I wish we had more time to discuss your latest arithmancy studies in person. I'm afraid I'm getting out of my depth with your abstract algebra and group theory. Unfortunately, we will have to settle for letters, for the most part. Congratulations for the acceptance of your paper on coherent light. It was very original. I think we should be able to finish our joint paper on the systematisation of Extension Charms using non-Euclidean geometry sometime this fall. I look forward to your next correspondence on the matter.

Best regards,

Septima

Dear Septima,

Thank you for your invitation. I initially wasn't planning on attending the World Cup, but I just found out I'll be able to! Ron's Dad got a great deal on a bunch of tickets through his Ministry connections, and he got one for me, too. Sometimes the patronage system pays. I'll be sure to drop by while I'm there. I'd love to meet Georgina. I'll see you on the 25th.

Love from,

Hermione

There was one topic Hermione had been avoiding that summer with her parents, but with August more than half over, she didn't think she could anymore.

"Mum, Dad, I want to get my front teeth magically reduced."

That got a pair of disappointed looks from her parents. "Well, Hermione," her mother said slowly, "it's nice that you're trying to feel more confident and take some pride in your appearance, but we don't want you to go overboard. Honestly, your teeth aren't that bad."

"Maybe not by muggle standards, Mum," she said, "but wizards have magical ways of correcting teeth, and almost everyone has it done—except for people like Marcus Flint—I think he leaves them like that on purpose. So I really stand out more than I'd like."

"Well, okay," her father said. "We understand if you don't want to stand out that way, but we've already been over this. Your teeth are straight enough that there isn't really anything that needs to be done, and if you really want to do something about your front teeth, wearing a simple brace for a year will—"

"Dad those things are slow and uncomfortable, and you know it," Hermione interrupted. "Madam Pomfrey could have fixed my teeth in minutes. In fact she offered to me to do it. I held back because I thought you'd disapprove."

"We just don't think teeth and magic should mix," he father said.

"Mum, Dad, I get it. You're dentists. This is your area of expertise. You want it to still be relevant in the world I'm growing up I, but the fact is…" She trailed off and tried to think of how best to break it to them. "The fact is that they can regrow bones in the magical world, and teeth are basically the same, at least if you're young." She tried not to think about old, toothless Tom at the Leaky Cauldron. "In second year, Harry had to regrow all the bones in his left arm, and they came in just fine, all the ligaments and tendons attached right and everything. Shrinking teeth is a piece of cake in my world."

"Hermione, this is still your world, too," Mum said. "We're still your parents, and we want to use our expertise to help you if we can."

"I know, Mum, and I do appreciate it, but in this case, it just doesn't work like that."

"But why not?"

"Why? Because…because it's pointless and overcomplicated and unnecessarily uncomfortable. Because I'm a witch, and we don't wear braces! We have spells that do the same thing faster and better and almost painlessly. There's just no need to bother with a brace, and most wizards would think it's ridiculous."

Hermione stopped and looked at her parents, worried that she had angered or hurt them with her words, but to her surprise, her mother leaned back with a sigh and said, "It's finally happened."

"Huh?"

"You've become a moody teenager."

Hermione let out a slight squeak.

"You know, I was really hoping we'd dodged that bullet," Mum continued. "You're almost fifteen already, and you haven't been too bad so far."

"Mum, I didn't mean—"

"No, Hermione, we understand what you're telling us: witches and wizards don't need dentists. And we can understand your attitude. I was a fourteen-year-old girl once, too, you know. It can be hard at your age. It's just hard for us to accept…" She sighed and said, "What do you think, Dan?"

Hermione's dad frowned a little, but he said, "You know, from the day we sent her to Hogwarts, we knew she was going to be living in a different world. And if that world doesn't need dentists, then maybe that's just bad luck on our part." Emma frowned and didn't look like she wanted to budge. "And after everything she's been through, maybe the best thing we can do is give her a chance to make a good first impression at her new school…Maybe we should compromise," he suggested. "Why don't we go to…whoever would handle teeth. The hospital, maybe? St. Mungo's? Then we could have a discussion with whoever would actually do the procedure so we at least understand how it works before we decide if we want to go ahead with it."

Emma bit her lip, much as her daughter sometimes did, and Hermione looked at her hopefully. "Oh, alright," she said, sounding a tad defeated. "Maybe we do need to get used to this…Just try to curb the attitude, young lady."

Hermione smiled softly. "Thank you, Mum," she said. "I really do think magic will work better."

"Then we'll make an effort to keep an open mind," Emma replied.

"Where is Nagini?" spoke a high, cold voice like an icy wind.

The answer to the question came from a woman's voice, but spoken in a flat monotone: "I believe she is exploring the house."

"You will milk her before we retire, Bertha."

No response came to this, for none was needed. There was a hissing sound.

"Ah, interesting news. Bertha, Nagini reports that there is an old muggle eavesdropping outside the door. Do kindly invite him in."

"Yes, my Lord," the flat voice responded.

A moment later, old Frank Bryce was met with a woman at the door. She was fairly attractive, probably in her thirties, but she had a dazed look on her face as if she were in a trance. "Please come in," she said in her monotone voice.

"You have been listening, muggle?" the high man's voice said.

"What'd you call me?" Frank grunted.

"I called you muggle. It means you are not a wizard."

"I dunno what that means, but I know you're not supposed to be here."

"On the contrary, muggle I inherited this house from my father."

"What kind of story is that? The Riddles were murdered fifty years ago."

"Were they, now?" the voice hissed. "Were all of them?"

Frank started to get nervous. "What're you…what're you talkin' about, now? And why don't you look at me when I'm talking to you?"

"Oh, of course," the voice said dryly. "Where are my manners? Bertha, turn the chair around."

The woman spun the chair so that they could come face to face. Frank Bryce scream just long enough for the thing sitting there to hiss two words.

"AHH!"

Two hundred miles away, Harry Potter sat bolt upright in bed as a white-hot pain pierced his forehead. He looked around, unsure of where he was for a moment, and then he remembered: Sirius's flat. He was safe and best of all, nowhere near the Dursleys.

"Harry, you alright?" The light flipped on, and he looked up to see his godfather standing in the doorway.

"Uh, yeah, 'm fine," Harry groaned, rubbing his forehead.

"Harry, is your scar hurting?" Sirius said with concern.

"Hmm? Oh, it's nothing."

"Are you sure? Didn't you tell me in your first year, your scar only hurt when Voldemort was around?"

"Yes, but…it was just a dream. I mean, he couldn't be…here, could he?"

"No, the wards would've…" Sirius stopped and eye Harry curiously. "Was he in your dream?"

"Er…yeah…I think so…" he said uncomfortably.

"What happened?" Sirius asked urgently.

"What?" Harry said in confusion. Why would that matter? He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head trying to remember. "I…I don't know. There was a woman with him."

"A woman?" Sirius asked. Voldemort never had many women in his group.

"Yeah, she had a weird, flat voice. And he…he didn't look human. I don't know…they didn't really say anything, but he…he killed an old man! Sorry, that's all I remember."

Sirius sighed heavily. This wasn't a good sign. "Alright, Pup, try not to worry about it—and try to go back to sleep," he said. "I'll write Dumbledore. He'll want to know about this."

"It's not important—"

"Just in case, Harry, and that's final."

Harry stared as his godfather left. Sirius rarely got so, well, serious. He still didn't think it was a big deal, even if it had been over two years since his scar had twinged like that. But just as long as it didn't interfere with the World Cup on Monday, he could let it go.

"Alright, Hermione," Emma said as she saw her daughter off with Mr. Weasley. "Have fun over there, and be careful."

"Mum, it's only three days, and I'll be with the Weasleys the whole time," Hermione said. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"Probably nothing, but we still worry about you. Aren't you taking Dobby with you?"

"I'll call him to the campsite once we get there. I'll see you on Friday. I love you."

"We love you to, sweetie. See you soon," Mum answered.

Hermione walked off with Mr. Weasley and Flooed into the Burrow with her newly-straightened smile on her face.

"Hermione!" Ginny was the first Weasley to run forward and give her a hug. "It's so good to see you, and—Oh, Merlin!"

Fred and George came in for a closer took, too. "Wow, Beauxbatons isn't gonna know what hit it," said Fred.

When Ron saw what his siblings were talking about, he blushed heavily. He approached and hugged her awkwardly. "Hey, er, you look nice, Hermione," he said.

"Well, come on, what's all the fuss here?" Mrs. Weasley came into the living room. Even her eyebrows were raised when she saw. "Well, who is this?" she said. "This can't be little Hermione."

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley. Thank you for inviting me," Hermione replied. Since her last visit, Hermione had finally got her Hair-Straightening Charm generalised to one that would curl hair at a specific radius. She set the radius about twice as large as her hair's natural wave so it wouldn't hang limp, but still wouldn't go back to being tangled and unmanageable. Between that and her teeth, she finally had her appearance just about where she wanted it. She was sure she would never care about all that on the level that Lavender and Parvati did, but she was surprised how much more confident she felt when she could take care of those two things.

"Oh of course, of course, you're quite welcome. And you look very lovely, dear. I almost didn't recognise you. Now, I don't believe you've met my oldest children, Bill and Charlie. Boys, come here and introduce yourselves."

The oldest Weasley son, Bill, was tall and thin, like his father. He wore his hair long and in a ponytail, wore an earring with a fang on it, and was well-tanned from his time in Egypt. "Hello, Hermione," he said, shaking her hand. "I've been wanting to meet you. I wanted to give you my belated thanks for helping save Ginny's life. I read your paper in the—"

"Cursebreaking circulars, I know," she interrupted.

"You do?" He said in surprise.

"I got a letter from a Cursebreaker in India. I'll show you later. It's good to meet you, Bill."

Charlie, on the other hand was short, stocky, and weather-beaten. He had several visible scars and wore relatively heavy clothes. "It's good to finally meet you, Hermione," he said. "Ron and Ginny told me about your self-tightening charm. You'll have to teach me that. It could come in handy."

"Of course. I haven't tried it on anything big, though."

"Now, you'll be staying in Ginny's room again," Mrs. Weasley said. "She'll show you up. And Fred, George," she added as the Twins moved to follow, "I'd better not hear about you pranking any of our house guests, or else."

"Us? We would never!" Fred replied in mock indignation.

"And besides, our Hermione can probably give back better than she gets," George added.

"Don't listen to them," Ginny said when the girls got to her room. "They'll get you if you ever turn your back on them. They're going all out this year with their Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes stuff."

"Oh, they told you about that?" Hermione said in surprise.

"Not deliberately. Mum found a stack of order forms while she was cleaning, and—wait, they told you?"

"Um, yes. They mentioned it while we were experimenting with the toy wands, and we've been corresponding about some of our business ideas."

"And you didn't try to shut them down?"

"Would it have actually stopped them?"

Ginny giggled: "No, no it wouldn't've done."

"Honestly, I think it'll be good if they can pull it off. Don't tell them I said this, but I think they've got sounder career plans than the average Ravenclaw at this stage."

"Really?"

"Ginny, how often does the average Ravenclaw think about what comes after school?"

"Hmm, good point."

"So how have you been? I haven't had much chance to talk to you this summer."

"It's been nice. Mum was freaking out at first because of the thing with Sirius. I think she wasn't sure whether to scream at me for almost getting myself killed or praise me for standing up for my friends."

"That's better than I got," Hermione said. "I was grounded for two weeks."

"Ooh, tough. But Mum's been focusing on Fred and George ever since the O.W.L. results came in."

"Yeah, I still think that wasn't the best decision for them to neglect them so much," Hermione admitted, "but I guess that's the Twins for you. So, are you excited to see Harry tomorrow?"

Ginny squeaked and nodded her head silently.

Hermione giggled: "Breathe, Ginny. Come on, you can do better than that."

"I know. I know. It's just harder when I don't see him much."

"You don't need to worry. He's your friend, remember. Honestly, you jumped in front of a supposed mass murderer for him. Harry's not gonna forget something like that."

"You're right," Ginny said, taking a deep breath. "I'm being silly. So how did you get your hair like that? It looks wicked."

"Thanks. That was actually pretty simple. I can show you with my toy wand, but it'll have to be in the morning so your mum doesn't get suspicious."

"Great, and I see you finally got your teeth fixed."

"Yeah, it was a real job convincing my parents to let me. They really wanted to do it the muggle way, since that's their job, but I finally convinced them that magic was better."

"Well, you should be glad you did. I bet the French boys'll be all over you this year."

Hermione turned bright red while Ginny laughed at her expense. "I think I'll go talk to Gred and Forge—or George and Fred, or—whatever." She quickly extricated herself from the situation, then dashed up the stairs to the next landing and knocked on the Twins' door.

"Who is it?"

Hermione got an idea. Thinking fast, she decided she probably couldn't pull off Mrs. Weasley's ranting, so she tried her best impression of Ginny's voice and yelled, "You gits! What did you do to my stuff?"

She heard laughter on the other side of the door, and it opened, revealing two grinning redheads.

"Nice try, Hermione," George said, "but you've got a long way to go before you can match the Prewett blood in our family."

"Come on in," Fred added, pulling her inside. "By the way, you don't happen to still have that order form we sent you, do you?"

"Yes, it's in with my books. Why?"

"Well, Mum kinda burned all of our copies."

"What?"

"She found our order forms and went nuts," George said. "Said we should've been studying for O.W.L.s when we we making them."

"And we weren't to make any more because they were too dangerous."

"And we definitely weren't to sell anything at Hogwarts because it was against the rules."

"And said we should focus on trying to get nice, respectable jobs in the Ministry, like Percy." Both Twins gagged theatrically at this point.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, it is technically against the rules to sell them at Hogwarts—"

"'S all good fun, though," Fred protested.

"And I'd say a few of your ideas are too dangerous, but honestly, most of them aren't any worse than what Zonko's stocks."

"Exactly. Of course we have tricks they don't, and luckily, she didn't find our notes or prototypes." Fred reached under the bed and pulled out what looked like one of the better models of toy wands.

"Oh, so you've still been working on these?" Hermione said. She waved it and said, "Lumos."

SQUAWK!

"AHH!" The wand turned into a rubber chicken, which she threw across the room in surprise.

The Twins laughed at her. "You should've seen your face," George said.

"We've got Mum about five times with that one," Fred grinned.

"Fake wands," she said. "That's nasty trick."

"People'll love it, though," George said. "But anyway, we wanted to congratulate you on getting a patent of your own."

"Yeah, we saw your kits in the apothecary last week. We never thought you'd catch up to us," Fred added.

"Thank you, it should get me some good spending money, anyway," Hermione replied.

George drew some parchments from his robes. "So anyway," he asked her, "we were hoping you'd look over our finances, like you said."

"Well, I don't know, after that trick," she said, turning up her nose in exaggerated fashion.

"Hey, you're the one who said you owed us one for helping with the patents," Fred pointed out.

"Oh dear, I suppose you've got me. Let's take a look, then." She took the parchments in hand and skimmed over them. They were surprisingly thorough. Fred and George hadn't exactly calculated how much each product cost to make, but they had listed all of their supplies and their costs, and their products and how much they wanted to charge for them. "Hmm…It's complicated," she said. "You look like you're set to make a profit right now, if your sales are good. As for down the road, you'll save money manufacturing in bulk, but then again, you'll also have a lot more overhead to run a shop, and I don't know what things like rent and utilities run in the magical world. I'll need more time to look at this in detail…but…I don't see anything in here that would obviously derail it."

"That's good enough for me," George said. "If there's one thing I've learnt in the past three years, it's that you've got to trust Hermione."

Hermione blushed and smiled a little. She thought that was a little much, but it was good to know George had faith in her.

"I dunno about that, Georgie," Fred countered. "I didn't trust that look she was giving me a minute ago." She glared at him. "There it is again! I think she's out to get us. You'd better not turn your back on her."

"What're you telling me for?" George said. "You're the one who pranked her with the wand."

Fred plastered a comically fake look of horror on his face. "Oh no! I must escape!" he said melodramatically, and he bolted from the room, laughing all the way.

"Brothers," George told her. "Can't live with 'em, can't send 'em to Timbuktu in a shipping crate. I know; we tried it with Percy once."

Hermione soon found herself laughing hysterically, even though it really shouldn't have been funny. Fred and George tended to do that to people. She wasn't sure she'd laughed that hard all summer. It was times like this when she really wished she could stay at Hogwarts. Being an "honorary Weasley" could be a lot of fun at times.

"Okay, okay, I'm done," Fred said, sticking his head back through the door. "C'mon, Mum says supper time."

Supper was a chaotic affair, like most things at the Burrow, especially when all of the Weasleys were home. There were just barely room for the ten of them to squeeze into the kitchen, with Hermione sandwiched in between Ron and Ginny. Percy appeared to only come down to dinner because he had to and went right back up to his room afterwards. He was apparently working overtime on some very boring project for his job at the Ministry—at least that was the impression she got from the others. Hermione shuddered to think how close she might have come to turning out like that if she'd never met his less uptight brothers. Ginny and the Twins always seemed to be one fumble of a spoon away from a food fight, and Bill and Charlie seemed to be encouraging them when they weren't entertaining the table with tales of their work in Egypt and Romania.

Mr. Weasley, as usual, peppered Hermione with questions about the muggle world, taking a particular interest in the idea of a cake mix and asking why such a thing existed. She was surprised to find that she wasn't entirely sure. True, a mix was quicker and easier than making your own batter, but not by that much, not if you knew what you were doing and were reading from a recipe. The biggest advantage, she decided, was not having to worry about stocking all the ingredients.

"I'm glad you could come, this week Hermione," Ginny said when they laid down to sleep for the night. "It's not gonna be the same without you around."

"Yeah, I know. It'll be tough starting at a new school," she replied. "I wish there was a way out of it, but it's just not going to happen."

"You'll have to visit during holidays, still."

"Of course I will, Ginny. Your family's wonderful. I always have a lot of fun here."

Harry and Sirius arrived the following afternoon, and Sirius had some great news: "I told Fudge that Harry's three best friends would be up in the Top Box for the final, and it would really be great if we could put them together, and he'd already been so generous giving us tickets to the opening ceremony. And wouldn't you know it, there were exactly two seats left in the Top Box, so we'll be there with you."

"Oh, Harry, that's great!" Ginny squealed. She hugged him and managed to blush only slightly. "It's so amazing we'll be able to see an actual World Cup final from the best seats!"

"Yeah, I know!" Harry said. "We saw a couple of the early matches. It was incredible. I've never seen Quidditch that fast…"

Harry and Ginny were soon excitedly comparing notes on Quidditch, with Ron and the older Weasleys sometimes chiming in. Hermione even put in her two knuts when the conversation touched on the more mathematical aspects of the sport. Sirius leaned against the wall beside Hermione, watching.

"You know, I didn't notice before, but Harry and Ginny get along really well together," he said.

"Uh huh," Hermione said. "I'm really proud of Ginny. You should've seen her two years ago. She had such a huge crush on Harry she couldn't even talk to him."

Sirius let out a laugh that sounded like a bark. "I'm just glad Harry turned out better than James," he said. "James was tripping all over himself trying to get Lily to go out with him until our sixth year."

Hermione chuckled: "I'm glad to see him doing so well this summer. It's been a struggle keeping him in one piece for the past three years—and not just with the Dursleys. I'm glad he's got you to watch out for him now."

"Yeah, me too, Hermione."

The antics continued over the course of the evening with Bill and Charlie jousting with tables and everyone trying to annoy Percy as much as possible—which probably wasn't the best way to get him to spend time with his family, but hey, that was the Weasleys for you. They ate dinner in the garden, which was as excellent as ever. The only trouble came when Sirius asked Percy what he was working on, and Percy obliviously answered.

"I am the new head researcher for the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Barty Crouch chose me for the position himself."

Sirius, Harry, and Hermione froze.

"Oh, boy," Ginny muttered.

"Now, Mr. Black—" Mrs. Weasley started as a growl began to emanate from Sirius's throat.

But Harry was the first to react: "Percy, Crouch is the guy who threw Sirius in Azkaban!"

"Well, anyone can make the occasional mistake, Harry," he replied.

"That's a pretty big mistake."

"Really, now, it was thirteen years ago, and Mr. Crouch issued a public apology. And anyway, he's switched departments since then. He's really a different man than he was at the end of the war."

"Yeah. I'll believe that when I see it," Sirius grumbled.

They turned in early that night, since they had to get up absurdly early the next morning to catch a portkey from the other side of the village at seven minutes past five. It was also much more of a hike than Hermione had expected, and mostly uphill, so she was clutching a stitch in her side by the time they got there.

"You'd think I'd be better at this with all the stairs I have to climb at Hogwarts," she groaned. "Maybe I should take up running or something…I wonder if the Room of Requirement can turn into a running track," she muttered to herself.

"Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it!"

Two tall figures came over the hill, one of whom looked very familiar.

"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," said Mr. Weasley. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"

"Hi, Hermione," Cedric said.

She could see him in the dawn light now. Of course, he looked as fit and handsome as ever. "H-h-hi, Cedric," she answered, hoping it was still too dark for him to see how much she was blushing. Oh, come on, Hermione you're getting almost as bad as Ginny, she thought. He's been your friend for three years. Get it together. That thought was enough for her to collect herself for the moment as Mr. Diggory was being introduced the group.

"All these yours, Arthur?"

"Oh no, only the redheads," said Mr. Weasley, pointing out his children. "This is Hermione, friend of Ron's—"

"She's the girl I told you about, Dad," Cedric cut in. "Fourteen and just got the highest score ever in Arithmancy."

Hermione grinned broadly to see Cedric had noticed her achievement.

"Oh, that one," Mr. Diggory said. "Good to meet you then. I daresay say not many people could beat Cedric here in class, right my boy?"

"Dad, please—"

"Top of his class, you know. Probably Head Boy next year," Mr. Diggory boasted.

"Okay, Dad, they get it."

Hermione, for one, was glad Cedric had turned out a bit more modest than his father, but they were spared further conversation when the portkey activated.

It was a disturbing sensation. Hermione felt like she'd been yanked by a hook behind her navel. She could feel herself flying and spinning through the air, and a highly distorted view of the countryside wheeled beneath her, but from the sights and sensations, she felt like they almost had to be moving through some four-dimensional space. But why didn't it look four dimensional? Of course, her eyes could only see in three dimensions. It was physiologically impossible to see more than a slice of it…probably. Still, she tried to memorise as much of the view as she could to try to understand the geometry behind it.

She hit the ground hard, and most of them landed in a heap. But she sprang back up, wild-eyed, as if she had received a revelation beyond the ken of mortal men—which was eerily close to the truth. The first words she uttered, to the confusion of the others, were, "I need a book on higher-dimensional geometry!"