Sometime in February 1998. Listening to Potterwatch.

Hermione burst out laughing, using her fingers to wipe away joyous tears from her eyes.

It was nice to see her laughing again. Happy moments had been few and far between since the beginning of the horcrux hunt. Harry smiled too. Not quite laughing (the joke wasn't that funny,) but glad Hermione found something to laugh about.

"What a — what a stupid joke. 'sleevies.'" She said, meeting Harry's eyes and then quickly looking away.

Harry refocussed on the radio just in time to hear the dedication of Firewhisky Explosion by the Stoned Warlocks.

In the meantime, here's a tune I'm dedicating to a lovely witch; you've missed a release from your favourite band. Here's Firewhisky Explosion, off the new Stoned Warlocks album. The next password will be Wulfric.'

Ron moved to turn the wireless off, muttering about his brother's shitty music.

"No, leave it play," said Hermione.

"But it sounds bloody terrible — it's just noise!"

"Fred obviously likes it. Just let the song play." Ron grumbled a bit more about how the singer couldn't even sing, but stomped off to where the music was quieter.

Hermione blinked slowly, still smiling, and the pieces clicked into place for Harry.

Hermione liked alternative music.

Harry'd never really had a preference — it's not like he'd been allowed to listen to his own music growing up — but Ron obviously preferred pop music, and Hermione'd probably never said anything to avoid the argument.

"I never minded Fred's music," said Harry. "Makes sense, I think. For who he is." It made a peculiar sort of sense that Hermione liked the same sort of music as him.

Hermione grinned, showing off her canines. Harry forgot sometimes, but Hermione could be vicious. "Brash and unrepentant. That's Fred."

That's Hermione.

Had he known before, Harry would've put on different music back around Christmas.

September 19, 1998. Hogsmeade.

Harry stood at the entrance to Hogsmeade with Ron and talked idly, not-so-subtly craning their necks to spot their friend as she made her way down from the castle, no doubt with Ginny in tow, despite the younger girl not actually having permission to visit the village every weekend like the so-called 'eighth years.' The others were already waiting at the Hog's Head, having agreed to arrive early so that — for once — Hermione would get a surprise on her birthday (Harry was ashamed to admit he'd never really paid attention to birthdays, and hadn't known Hermione's until last year.)

As Parvati and Padma greeted them and moved on to where the party would be, Ron asked, "What'd you get her, anyway?"

"A gift voucher for that music shop on Diagon. George recommended it."

"Why not just get her the Weird Sisters album? You know she's gonna buy it anyway," said Ron.

"Err… Ron, you know Hermione doesn't actually like the Weird Sisters, right?"

"What? That's ridiculous. Everyone likes the Weird Sisters. They're the best band to come out of the last two hundred years." Ron's shoulders straightened, making him look even taller than he was.

Harry shook his head, "Hermione doesn't like them."

"What band does she like, then? What's her favourite?"

"I'm not sure — probably a muggle band, now that I think about it."

"Oh. I guess that makes sense," Ron deflated. "Why not get her a voucher for a muggle music shop, then?"

"George said that since the war the shop's expanded to offer muggle records. Seems more convenient."

"When'd he say that?"

"When you were off haggling with Verity."

"Oh. Yeah. Can you believe I paid full price for those trick sweets? I'm a bloody war hero!"

"So is Verity."

"Still," Ron grumbled.

"How is Verity?" asked Hermione, suddenly appearing in front of them with Ginny two steps behind.

After hugs and birthday well-wishes, they moved on, wandering towards the Hog's Head as they caught up on what all had happened in the 18 days since they last saw each other.

And as Ron held open the door for them, the pub jumped up in a unanimous shout of surprise, startling Hermione. Harry's hand on her shoulder and the warning from Ginny stopping her from instinctually drawing her wand.

Hours later, Harry caught up with Hermione again, this time talking to George.

"Thanks again for the gift, and for helping Harry with his. He said you recommended the shop?"

"Yeah, it was Fred's usual stop for records. We used to go together and he'd make fun of my shitty music. Fuckin' bold, coming from him, but…"

"Fuckin' bold, saying that to me. And on my birthday, too, George. For shame." Harry nearly choked on his drink, hearing Hermione swear for the first time.

George winced, but smiled, "Sorry."

"No, I know what you mean."

"Nice shirt, by the way. Recognized it the moment you walked in."

"Sorry. I just thought it'd be nice for him to be here too. I have extra tops in my bag, if you want me to change?"

"Nah, you're right. It's nice that he's here. Besides, you repaired it. It's your shirt now."

Harry looked at Hermione's shirt, her jacket having been long since discarded. Violet and violent, with grungy moving graphics, it proclaimed, "THE DEADLY SPELLS — CAMELOT TOUR" and was held together mostly by bright blue stitches. It didn't look like anything Hermione would wear, especially since it pre-dated her introduction to the magical world. Probably because (according to George and Hermione's conversation) it was Fred's.

Maybe that was her favourite band?

September 19, 2001. The Hog's Head.

"I know it's my party, but how long do you think until I can escape? I want to start on that book Percy got me."

Harry laughed, "If you leave before eleven, Ginny'll gut you."

Hermione sighed dramatically. "Woe for my having friends, I suppose."

"While I've got you here, I've got your gift," Harry said, passing his friend the gift envelope. He watched as Hermione extracted the present from the paper, a look of surprise taking over her face. "I wasn't really sure what to get, but I thought you'd like this. They're your favourite, right?"

Hermione held the concert tickets, looking at the dates for the Deadly Spellz anniversary tour.

"Yeah," she said, already moving to hug Harry. Her voice broke slightly as she repeated, "Yeah, they're my favourite."

Harry wasn't sure if that was a lie or not.