"Ugh," groaned Hermione as the blankets were ripped away from her body. There was no possible way it could have been morning yet. She felt as if her head had only just met the pillow, but the rising sun clued her in to the fact that morning had indeed come. Despite popular opinion, Hermione was not a morning person. The more sleep she could manage before schoolbooks managed to steal it away from her, the better. With another groan, the brunette rolled over and dragged the pillow so that it blocked out as much daylight as humanly possible.

"Hermione Jean Granger, get your pasty arse out of bed this instant! You promised me that I could teach you Quidditch this summer," her assailant screeched as the pillow was also ripped away. Godric, she sounds like her mother and her brother at the same time, Hermione thought. Her pesky redheaded best friend hadn't let up about training since she caught Hermione out flying in the middle of the night previous school year when she had told Harry and Ron that she was headed toward the library. Despite the brunette's claims that she had only been trying to defeat her paralyzing fear of heights, Ginny had talked her into flying with her every morning for the rest of the year.

Hermione had progressed well, and quickly conquered her foolish fear of heights. Yet, just when she was ready to put the broomstick down forever, she lost a bet with Ginny. Ginny was convinced for some reason that Hermione had a crush on Sirius, and bet Hermione freedom from her flying lessons that she wouldn't openly flirt with him. If she couldn't do it, she had to learn how to play the popular wizarding sport AND try out for the house team next year. Never one to back down from a challenge, Hermione accepted. Anything to get out of making a fool of herself in front of the entire school. She definitely wasn't good enough for the house team. Why was Ginny so hell-bent on getting her to try out?

It had taken all of Hermione's Gryffindor courage to walk up to Sirius and use that line that made everyone in the room's jaws hit the floor. Hermione felt her face heating up just thinking about the very conversation that had ultimately lead to her doom. Hermione thought she was being discreet, catching him alone in the library during a visit with Harry and Ron to Grimmauld Place, but…

Hermione entered the library, head held high with a book she'd only halfway read in hand. It felt as if she were committing a crime in putting away a book she hadn't finished, but she figured she could just sneak it off the shelf again later. It wasn't as if Sirius was keeping tabs on which books were actually in the library, after all. Attempting to walk at a somewhat normal speed, she focused on controlling her breathing and headed for the bookshelf nearest where the older man was lounging in his favorite armchair near the fireplace.

Just as she reached his eyeline, he looked up and flashed her a brilliant grin. He opened his mouth to greet her, but Hermione interrupted before he could manage the first syllable.

"I was under the impression that Harry was the only one who's ever survived an Avada, yet here you are… drop dead gorgeous."

"Nice line Mia, but you could have just asked flat out to ride his broomstick," George laughed as he emerged from the next aisle over, with his brother not too far behind.

"Nice one Gred, personally I would have just told him his smile is like an expelliarmus, simple but disarming," laughed the other twin.

Hermione flushed red, before spitting out, "Well, I admit that I took a risk on that one, but clearly didn't have time to pull a Wronski Feint before I crashed." She placed the book back on the shelf, then hastily exited the library to a chorus of chuckles without making eye contact with any of the three sets of eyes that trailed after her.

It wasn't one of her proudest moments, and she now had to play off her embarrassment every time the twins entered a room. Of course, Ginny didn't know that she ran away in embarrassment before Sirius had the chance to reply himself, but telling her best friend that she couldn't go through with it was much easier than explaining why Fred and George were now using increasingly bizarre chat up lines on her every chance they had. The two had even started taking time to research muggle ones when they had begun to run out of ideas!

Instead of caving in and just telling Ginny what really happened, here she was in one of the twins' old Quidditch jerseys making her way out of the Burrow to the makeshift pitch to her certain doom. As she rushed through the kitchen with the goal of making it through the door leading to the garden before Harry or Ron saw her, it just so happened one the very reasons that she was in this predicament decided it was a great time to literally knock her right off her feet. Hermione screeched as she tripped over Fred's foot, bracing herself for the impact of the corner of the counter heading directly towards her face. Instead, she found herself on the floor, tangled up in the redhead's arms.

"Hey Granger, my last name looks good on you," winked Fred as he disentangled himself from her.

"Shame it won't be there for long," she bites back as she waves her wand at the jersey, changing what had previously said Weasley to Granger.

"I think you spelled that wrong, love," replies George, waving his own wand so the jersey said Black instead.

"Honestly," she scoffs, ripping off the jersey and throwing it at them, "it's easier to fly in a sports bra anyways." She turns with her head held high only to walk full force into the third and final object of her embarrassment.

"Good morning, love."

"Good morning," Hermione squeaked, sidestepping around the Black heir. "Lovely day, isn't it? Has Ginny passed by? She didn't even think to wake me up and I'm supposed to meet her at the pitch." She hurried along the path, not pausing to wait for an answer, nor noticing the following eyes of the three men standing behind her.

"She isn't our little 'Mione anymore," George commented, pushing his way through the door.

"If given the chance I know that I would have taken her up on any line she tried to use," Fred said to Sirius as he turned to follow his twin.

Sirius continued to smirk after her retreating form. It seemed his mind wanted to play tricks on him lately, because she had started to look more and more like her than ever before. It was becoming increasingly difficult for him to keep his thoughts from drifting back to a time when things were simpler, and he had HER.

"But, she's not her," he whispered to himself, turning to follow the two redheads.

Over the next few weeks, Hermione managed to pick up on the basics of Quidditch well enough to play in an official Weasley House Tournament. Comprised of the usual horde of Weasleys and any honorary Weasleys that wished to play, two teams fought for a muggle trophy that Arthur had inscribed to read the honor.

As the winning team of the annual tournament had the right to first pick of Molly's deserts at all holiday family functions for the next year, the tournament was easily the most competitive family tradition that Hermione had found herself a part of. Teams were decided at breakfast, where Molly would charm the bottom of her famous breakfast biscuits red or gold. Each team was allowed a one-hour strategy meeting after breakfast, where they would choose a team leader and discuss different plays they wanted to use.

Hermione was currently on the gold team with Percy, Bill, Charlie, Fred, Ginny, and Remus, playing against the red team, consisting of George, Harry, Sirius, Ron, Angelina, Tonks, and Arthur.

"Look out, 'Mione!"

"Thanks, Ron!" Hermione swerved to avoid the bludger that George had just aimed at her, then huffed in annoyance as she dropped the quaffle she had just regained control of from Tonks into Angelina's waiting hands in the process. Ginny had warned her about that maneuver, why hadn't she been expecting it? They've only been practicing for weeks! In her defense, since George and Angelina had begun dating, they had this weird synchronization when it came to just about everything. Finishing sentences, cooking meals, studying… literally everything. It's a wonder how Fred wasn't jealous of it.

"Focus," Hermione whispered to herself. This wasn't the time to get distracted. She was still new to this, and it was going to take a lot of real time practice before she tried out for the house team. She couldn't believe she had lost the bet. What was she thinking? Wait, FOCUS. To top it off, Harry had insisted that Hermione use his old Firebolt to practice on from now on, which happened to handle much more easily than the Cleansweep that she had been practicing on. Not taking into account how much less effort it would take to perform simple maneuvers was throwing off her game, quite literally.

"Look out for your own team, Ron," Harry warned his best friend. Hermione threw a smirk and a shrug towards her messy-haired friend, then dashed off in pursuit of Angelina and Tonks at the other side of the makeshift pitch. She never thought she'd make a good chaser, yet here she was, up above the trees chasing after the friends she had come to see as her family.

Two hours into the game, the score was currently 210 to 110, and of course Harry's team had the edge with so many of the Gryffindor's house team alumni at his disposal. Charlie managed to gain back the quaffle and passed it to Bill, who was effectively blocked at the hoops by Sirius, who flashed a dazzling smile towards Hermione, who flicked her wrist as if to say no big deal. Spreading out to surround their target, Hermione, Bill and Charlie dashed after Tonks, who recovered the ball and had pushed around Remus at the post for a solid goal.

Suddenly, Ginny took a dive, followed quickly by Harry. Both teams' attentions turned to see who would win the game, and Hermione used the opportunity of a momentarily distracted Angelina to seize the Quaffle. She flew straight up, causing Angelina to pause again before making a quick turn for another goal just seconds before Ginny whooped in victory. Hermione's first game ended with a win and a score of 270-220.

The wild-haired brunette angled the firebolt towards the ground, crashing right into the small crowd of her celebrating teammates below. She was great at flying so far, landing was not her strong suit. Fred caught the escaping broom as Sirius caught the witch just before she hit the ground.

"Thanks Sirius, I almost buried myself there," she giggled, jumping up to hug each of her teammates. Sirius barked out a laugh, making eye contact with Remus who stood off to the side with a warning look on his face. His eyes refocused on the witch, who had joined in with the rendition of "Weasley is our Queen" that Harry had started up. Hermione threw an arm around both Harry and Ron, the three began to bounce in time to the tune.

Sirius turned and began to make his way off the field, passing by only remaining best friend with nothing but the whisper of a single word as an acknowledgement of his reaction…

"Soon."