Hermione's P . O. V

As soon as I flickered my eyes open, I knew that I had overslept. I practically jumped out of bed and threw on a pair of jeans, and a knitted sweater Mrs. Weasley made me.

Grimmuald Place was unusualy quiet, not the usual laughs coming from Remus and Sirius, and Mrs. Weasley screaming after Fred and George. I heard a rustle of paper coming from the living room, so I went in there, expecting to see Remus sitting in his favorite armchair, reading by the cackling fire.

But instead of Remus, Fred sat there, flipping through the Daily Prophet and poking at the fire. I did a small caugh.

He looked up almost instantly, his face breaking out in a grin.

"Well, someone certianly did sleep in," he said, grinning.

I checked my watch. "It's only nine forty-five. I remember you slept in to at least twelve last summer," I said, putting my hands on my hips.

"Blah, blah, blah," he said, standing up. "You hungry? Mum left some food for you."

I nodded and followed him to the kitchen. He grabbed a plate and got the food Mrs. Weasley left me.

"Where is everyone?" I asked, stabbing one of the the buisciut with my fork.

"Let's see," he said, grabbing a sausage. "Mum, George and Remus are at Diagon Alley. Sirius is at Hogwarts."

I nearly choked on my coffee. "Why is Sirius at Hogwarts? Didn't Dumbledore say it was too riskie for Sirius to leave Grimmuald Place."

He shrugged. "Before he left, I sort of went in his room-"

"What were you doing in Sirius's room?"

"Just wanted to see Padfoot's room," he said. "And I found this."

He pulled a piece of folded parchment from his pocket and pushed it across the table towards me. I wiped my hands on my jeans and grabbed the letter.

Dumbledore,

I cannot take this anymore. You wouldn't understand. I absolutley hate being locked up in this place. There are too many bad memories, and you know that I hate being locked up.

I decided that I am going to go get Harry from Lily's sisters, Petunia. I know he is just as miserable as I am. If I cannot leave this house, I will leave.

I do appreciate all that you have done, but you do not understand anything that I have gone through during my life, and this house makes it twice as worst.

Sirius

P. S. Plus, Fred and George found out that I was a Marauder and. They. Won't. Leave. Me. Alone.

"You two drove away Sirius!" I said looking up for the letter. "Do you know how much danger he's in? He could be half way to Privet Drive by now! We have to go, right now Fred. You have to apparate us!"

I jumped up and pulled him up, and grabbed hold of his arm.

"Are we about to go?"

He chuckled. "Hermione, relax. I have Dumbledore's response right here." He pulled another piece of parchment and placed it Hermione's shaking hands, and then forced her to sit down.

Sirius,

Do not leave Grimmuald Place! It would be the most unwise thing to do. It probably have outcomes worse than death. And I will not allow you to get Harry. He need's to be left alone.

I have a plan. For a few days, you may come and stay at Hogwarts. You must stay as a dog though, and you can stay either with Hagrid, my office or the Gryffindor tower, and you can walk around freeley, it will be like Hogwarts for you all over again.

I know Harry must be feeling as restless as you are, but I hope that he is fine from the letters that he Is getting from Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger. Just don't think about going to get him. He is safest with the Dursleys.

I also wouldn't worry about Mr. And Mr. Weasley. They will eventually settle down.

Dumbledore

"Ok, that's better I guess," I said, still trembling. "Yes, it is. Sirius will be safe at Hogwart's, won't he?"

"Of course he will, it's Hogwarts," said Fred. "And that is why Mr. Sirius Black has gone. Dumbledore picked him up earlier."

I sat back down. "Ok then. What about the others?"

"What about them?"

"Why didn't you go to Diagon Alley with them?"

"Oh, er, right," he said. A sheepish smile spread over his features. "Well let's just say I got grounded in a way."

I sighed, leaned back in my chair and rolled my eyes. "What did you do?"

"Let's say that it involved Fleur, a trick wand, a type of Muggle hair dye and Ton- Tounge Toffee." He pulled back his sleeve and showed scorch marks.

"Fred, when will you ever learn not to mess with a girl that's part Veela?"

"Don't think I ever will Granger. They still sting."

"Well come on, I found some potion for burn marks in the bathroom cuboard."

We both headed up the stairs and in the small, cramped bathroom. Fred sat down on the toilet, and I stood on my toes looking for the potion. Sometimes, it really sucked being short.

I finally spotted the potion, and of course it was on the very top shelf. I took in a deep breath, stood on my toes and reached as far as I could. Unfortuanetly, my fingers barely brushed the bottle.

Afraid that I would spill it all over me, I looked all around looking for a stool. As far as I could see, there was none. I sighed and tried once more to grab it, before I heard a deep chuckle from Fred. I spun on my heel.

"Fine," I said. "You get it then."

He stood up, his arm brushing against my hair and I took in a deep breath of his . . . colonge? Weasley twins don't wear colonge! He simpley grabbed the potion, though, then placed it in my hand, and sat back down.

"Right," I said, a bit flustered. "Let's get to it."

He smirked.

He lefted up his sleeves, showing the five burn marks where Fleur got him. I uncorked the bottle and gave him an apologetic grin.

"Now, this may hurt a bit," I said, and poured the potion on his arm. The marks sizzled, and smoke filled the bathroom. A string of swear words came from Fred's mouth, and I could tell he was somewhat enjoying to swear without getting in trouble.

Five minutes later after the smoke cleared, and his burn marks were gone, Fred was still cursing. I rolled my eyes.

"Fred," I said, exasperated.

Still more swears.

"Fred!" I said, a but louder now.

Still swearing.

"FRED!" I shouted, grabbing his shoulders, shaking him.

"Wha-what?" he said.

"The potion wore off," I said. "You've been swearing for no reason what so ever these last few minutes," I said.

"I know," he said, grinning. "I just like to swear."

I rolled my eyes and started to head for the door, before he grabbed my wrist.

"What?" I asked.

"This is the perfect time to come up with idea's for you and Ron to get together," he said, excitedly. "I mean no one's home, we can talk as loud as we want, do what ever we want, without getting bothered."

He released my wrist and I tapped my chin. "Alright," I said. "Can we go to the living room though?"

He heaved a huge, dramatic sigh, running his fingers through his hair. "I guess so . . . I mean, we have to walk down those stairs again, and it's just so much work!"

"You're a big boy, you'll be able to do it," I said, smiling at him, and walked out of the bathroom, him following me.

"But-but the bathroom is so much smaller! You'll be able to inhale my cologne more!"

I blushed, and grinned a bit, though I didn't turn around. I couldn't have him knowing the satisfaction of making me all flustered.

When we got downstairs, Fred poked at the fire, and then laid down on the carpet, gesturing for me to join him.

"I think I'm going to sit on the armchair," I said, sitting in the big green chair that I always sat it.

"There's enough room for two. Scoot over," he said.

I shook my head, and crossed my arms, sitting criss cross.

"I didn't want to do this Hermione, but . . ."

Fred stood up, and walked over to the chair, basically picking me up, and sat down, leaving a seat for me.

"You're a real jerk sometimes," I said, but reluctantly sat by him.

"But I get what I want, don't I?" He asked. He stretched his legs across my lap. I tried to move them, but they were very heavy. Muttering curses under my breath, I told him to start helping me plan.

"Ok, name three reasons why you don't think Ron likes you," he said.

"Fine. Number one, I'm a bookish know-it-all, number two, I'm controlling, and number four, well, let's just say that I'm not the most attractive girl in the world."

"Alright, Miss Granger, let me just say a few things to you," he said, turning to me. "There is nothing wrong with being smart. It will get you further in life, and if you and Ron marry-"

"I never said anything about marri-"

"Just saying, IF you get married, then Ron will probably not be smart enough to know how to pay for the things he buys," he said, with a shrug.

"Ron, is plenty smart, it's just you and George and alot of other people always bringing him down!"

"Uh-huh. Sure it is."

"I'm serious! He can be brilliant! Have you seen him playing Wizards Chess? I don't think that anyone has ever beat him!"

"That's true . . . alright, about you being controlling. I admit, you are controlling. But Ron needs someone like that. Do you know how messy he is and how much he procratinates?"

"You're talking about Ron being messy and a procrastinator, when I'm pretty sure you haven't cleaned your room since you got here? I'm pretty sure that there was an animal hiding under the chair I was sitting in last night."

"Oh that was just . . . forget it. Anyway, Ron needs control. Do you know how many jams that you got him and Harry out? And you know how? Because you were in control. Those stupid gits need you, Hermione. Ecspecially Ron. He really, really needs you."

"I guess so. . . There does need to be some type of control," I said, a bit unsure.

"And the thing that's untrue. That you're not pretty. You are very, very pretty. You're just no all done up like that one girl, what her name? Purple Crown?"

"Lavander Brown, you mean?"

"That's the one," he said. "You're not all done up like she is. You are a more practical type of beautiful really."

I felt my stomach clench when he said I was beautiful. No one had ever called me that before. More like smart, or brilliant, pretty by Victor. Even though I loved those, every girl wants to be called beautiful at one point.

"So, don't worry about that," he said, with a sincere nod.

"Thanks, Fred," I said, almost sheepishly, and turned a bright red.

He saw my face, smirked, and leaned back into the cushions, reaching his hand over, and flicking my big toe.

I slapped his hand away, and he laughed.

"Alright, alright, enough procrastinating. We need to clean for your Mum," I said.

"Ugh, you surely do hate me, Hermione."

Alright, I know I haven't updated in forever, but I have had so much school work lately, (National History Day) and I have been having a sort of hard time with ideas for this story. So, I've decided I won't update unless I get at least 5 reviews. Thanks