AUTHOR'S NOTE! PLEASE READ! Hello my readers!!! I know, it's be over a YEAR since I have updated this story! I cannot apologize to all of you enough for being such a lazy bum, but my inspiration completely dropped off. College, work, and a boyfriend have also been taking up a lot of my time, not to mention time I've spent with AKissBeforeDying here on Fanfiction. Anyhow, what you see here is the last of what I wrote before writer's block crippled me. I have started the next chapter--which will most likely be the end of the story, but never fear! I do plan on writing a little bit more once it is "finished." Again, I am so, so, sorry to have kept you all waiting! I hope this chapter is at least up to par. Look out for another update in possibly a few weeks. You all have my deepest gratitude for sticking with me through this story, especially those who have been waiting this long for an update so faithfully. I wish I could give all of you a hug and gush about how honored I am that you've come this far with me. Please enjoy this chapter!!!

ALSO, PLEASE NOTE THE FOLLOWING: If you are going to continue reading/watching this story, please note that I am going to be changing my Pen Name. My Pen Name is no longer going to be pokichan. I have opted for a much more professional name, so if you see this or any of my other stories under a different name, please do not panic and think someone is impersonating me, or that someone has stolen my work. It's only a name change.

"Just a teeny hint?" Rosie pleaded. Fred shook his head for the umpteenth time.

"Sorry love, it'd ruin the surprise," he assured her. He squeezed her shoulder. Rosie pouted, sticking out her bottom lip and folding her arms. Fred chuckled and kissed her cheek. They sat nestled on one side of a corridor near the kitchens, where it was pleasantly warm and cozy. The bench they occupied was not very comfortable, but for Rosie, she only cared about snuggling closer to Fred. Earlier, they had thought about sneaking off to the Quidditch pitch to do some flying, but with the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament drawing near, staff could be seen almost everywhere, hurrying to make final adjustments for the competition.

"…Hey, Fred," Rosie whispered after a moment. He toyed with a lock of her hair and kissed her crown.

"Mm?" he answered softly. Rosie lifted her head and kissed the underside of his chin. He cleared his throat and his neck grew very red. A sensitive spot, perhaps? Rosie giggled and decided not to press into it any further.

"I was thinking…" she began, her tone a little sly and playful. Fred looked down at her and smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"Rosetta Harper, thinking? This can't be a good sign," he joked. "Pray, tell me, what sort of fiendish ideas are circulating in that genius brain of yours?"

Rosie fidgeted a little, slightly nervous. "Well, since my birthday is coming up, and it'll be the first time I'm sharing it with you, I'd really like it to, er… go out with a bang, so to speak."

Fred blinked, his face going blank for a moment. His expression then shifted to one of disbelief, his eyes going wide and his face turning red. Rosie saw the shift and shook her head wildly, her cheeks burning a bright scarlet color.

"N-no, no, it's nothing like that!" she stammered. "I was just thinking that maybe… we could pull a prank on someone, just you and me. I… I know you love playing practical jokes and… and I'd like to be a part of that, to… to be a little closer to you."

Fred scratched the back of his head. "Oh, all right then," he said, his tone awkward. "Who do you have in mind, love?"

Rosie paused for a moment. She took a deep breath. What she was about to ask was no small thing.

"…Professor Snape."

There was a long pause.

Despite Rosie's expectations, Fred's face split into a mischievous grin. "Really now?" he laughed. "That's a lofty goal, my dear, but then again…" His eyes twinkled. "I do love a challenge."

Rosie's eyes lit up with excitement. "Fantastic! When shall we begin?"

Fred chuckled. "As soon as possible."

They went into action immediately. Each bounced ideas off the other. Fred nodded confidently whenever Rosie came up with a clever idea, and Rosie giggled when Fred thought up a hideous trick to add to Snape's misery. It would be a fine way to kick off her birthday. It would also distract Rosie from her curiosity about Fred's designs for her.

She was greatly surprised at how well she and Fred worked together. Over the course of three days, they pieced together the perfect prank, one that was sure to infuriate the snide Potions master. They could hardly wait to set the plan into motion.

When Rosie's birthday, the twentieth of May, finally arrived, the girl woke bright and early. She rushed down the stairs to the common room. On her favorite armchair sat a few parcels wrapped in brightly colored paper and bows. It was a tradition the Harper family had practiced for generations, almost like Muggle Christmases. Over the years Meredith had followed along with the tradition, and Rosie did spy a few small packages from her amidst the bundle from her family.

As was her nature, Rosie first separated the gifts into piles according to the sender, mostly so she knew what to write in her subsequent thank you cards. As usual, her mother had spoiled her with a gift Rosie thought to be much too expensive—an enchanted music box.

It resembled a richly decorated vanity with polished and painted carvings of roses and vines as well as beauty products set with semiprecious gemstones. Curious, Rosie turned it on its side to wind the mechanisms within. Once finished, she placed it on the floor and waited a moment.

Slowly the top of the vanity opened and light shot upward. A hologram of her mother appeared. No music played, but the transparent specter of her mother beamed.

"Hello, dear," the slightly fuzzy image voiced. The sound was grainy, as though recorded on a Muggle tape. "I'm sure you must be wondering why there isn't any music playing," she went on.

Rosie rolled her eyes and smiled at her mother's recorded laugh. It was reminiscent of the laughter one hears when they know a very splendid joke. Still, Rosie sat cross-legged on the floor and leaned toward the music box, listening intently.

"This box is very special," her mother continued. ""By tapping it with your wand, you can record whatever you like, and afterwards you may add music to play in the background. Of course, you know how to do that, it's a simple charm. Also, this box will play more than just one recorded event. You can record up to a hundred and cycle through them by tapping the handles on the vanity. If you want to remove a recording, you need only select it and tap the hair brush. Pick a song and record something you enjoy! Oh, I almost forgot—you can record memories as well; it's something of a Pensieve." With a chuckle and a wave, Rosie's holographic mother faded away and the vanity closed.

For a moment Rosie was silent, staring in wonder at the contraption. She knew immediately the memory she would record. Putting her wand to her temple, she drew a silvery thread from her memories. It floated down into the box, soon joined by a host of other memories that rushed to her. Most of her cherished memories found their way safely into the rosewood box—the Yule Ball, special moments she had shared with Meredith, family ordeals, and still more were times of personal reflection. As the minutes ticked by, fewer important memories came to her, but one in particular nagged at her: the too-real dream. She decided to place it in the box as well, as an afterthought. Then she turned to the rest of her packages.

Ben had sent her a lovely illustrated book about dragons: each moving and roaring illustration more beautiful than the last. Lawrence, her second eldest brother, in his seventh year, had purchased a Sneakoscope, some Fizzing Whizbees, and a handy bracelet==it told the time across the smooth, flat surface as well as the date, important event she should know about, and the weather forecast, all at the tap of a wand. Rosie smiled and rolled her eyes. Just because Lawrence was going into Magical Law Enforcement did not mean that he had to get her practical gifts. Travis, her youngest brother, a year behind Rosie but only a month her junior, gave her a gift that made her giggle. Although it was merely a trick wand from Zonko's, it exploded into a plush unicorn with abnormally proportioned eyes.

Rosie stood up and admired her gifts with appreciation. She made a mental note to write each of them a letter of thanks, particularly her mother and father for the memory box. However, she did have class to attend.

--

"Good morning, love," Fred murmured into Rosie's ear as she plopped down into her seat at the Ravenclaw table. She felt his lips brush her neck for a moment and couldn't help but blush and giggle.

"Good morning, Fred," she replied with a shy smile.

"Happy birthday," the charming redhead added in a soft undertone. He kissed Rosie's cheek and she thanked him before he headed off to the Gryffindor table. She treasured the sensation Fred left on her cheek with his kiss—immediately after breakfast, she would be sitting in the dungeons with Snape, and Fred would be in a separate class altogether. If everything didn't go as planned…

No, Rosie would not think those kinds of thoughts that day. It was her birthday, after all, and she would enjoy it no matter what. She stared resolutely at her plate of eggs, picked up her fork and tucked in. She would need all the energy she could get.

--

The chalkboard behind the infamous Professor Snape's desk was filled with instructions when Rosie entered the chilly, dim chamber. A few overeager Slytherins already had their cauldrons set over flickering embers. However, the Potions master was nowhere in sight. As the clock ticked away, making him late for his own class, hushed whispers crept into the silence. What could have happened? Where was the scowling, hook-nosed, ebon-clad man?

Their answer came in the form of a curious dripping noise ten minutes later. The heavy wooden door burst open loudly as the man himself entered. His eyes burned with rage directed far beyond the classroom. A few students dared to titter, Rosie among them. The source of laughter was quite obvious.

Yogurt looked quite becoming on Severus.

A milky sheen covered every inch of Snape's clothing. Bits of fruit even clung to his already greasy hair. Rosie had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing out loud. Stage one was a success: Fred had managed to coerce Peeves into dumping a bucket of slightly spoiled yogurt onto Snape when he least expected it. It seemed that a simple wave of the wand couldn't clean it, either. He would have to clean everything manually, just like they planned. Now Rosie could conduct stage two.

As the irate Professor finally took notice of his students and waved his wand to rid himself of the mess—more out of frustration than anything else—Rosie stood up.

"Professor—" she began as politely as possible, but he was still too angry to let her finish.

"Quiet, Miss Harper," he snarled, stalking to the podium near his desk. However, as he was just about to reach it, he slipped and fell backward onto the floor with a comical squeaking and squelching noise.

This time, there was no stopping the ensuing riot of laughter.

Rosie surreptitiously moved her arm, tucking her wand back into her sleeve; she couldn't help but feel smug.

"SILENCE!" roared Snape as he jumped back to his feet, almost snarling. Not a peep was heard after that. Meredith nudged Rosie in congratulations as the Professor began that day's lesson, but not before he enchanted some rags to clean himself. The potion he assigned was tedious and grueling, certain to keep them all occupied. Still, Rosie would not be deterred.

She and the rest of the students worked quietly for the next hour. Hot a sound penetrated the collective silence save for the occasional bubble and hiss of a cauldron as ingredients were added and stirred. Professor Snape took to prowling each row of desks, as though seeking out the prankster that had so embarrassed him. Under his scrutinizing gaze, Rosie felt slightly tense, but he did not pause at her cauldron, nor give any sign that he suspected her. In fact, he studied Meredith more closely. Perhaps it was due to her more outgoing and less innocent attitude, but Rosie would never know.

Suddenly, several loud knocks sounded on the door.

Cursing under his breath, the proud, succinct, suspicious Snape whirled away from a petrified Ravenclaw and stalked to the door. He yanked it open with a snarl.

"Yes?" he hissed through clenched teeth. As he looked down his hooked nose at the visitor, his lip curled. He was a Hufflepuff with a round face, thick spectacles, mousy hair, and more freckles than the Weasley twins put together. He was also quite fat—reminiscent of a penguin.

"S-sir," gasped the boy, "I am in need of a potion—" he went on, but Snape scoffed.

"Well of course you do, why else would you be interrupting my class? Get on with it," he snapped, not in the mood for chitchat.

The boy opened his mouth to continue, but then his hand flew to his face. Gradually, his ruddy visage paled, turning a disturbing green color. He stumbled forward and without so much as a warning, vomited all over the Potion master's front.

With a cry of a revulsion, Snape stepped back and demanded, "One of you take this boy to the hospital wing!" He did not need to voice that his patience was at an end. Sensing his peaking fury, Rosie shot up from her seat as Snape turned and marched back into the classroom, waving his wand to clear the mess from his robes. However, she being in the front row, and her enthusiasm to assist the poor boy being so great, she upset her cauldron. Its contents splashed and sloshed, struck Snape in the face, and issued a foul smelling smoke.

"Oh, no! Professor!!" Rosie cried, raising her wand, but he flailed blindly and roared:

"OUT! GET OUT!"

"Just let me—" Rosie pleaded, and she waved her wand.

Suddenly, the Potions master did not seem so intimidating, especially considering that he was standing there in his underwear.

There was a moment of silence.

The uproarious laughter that ensued drowned out the greasy Professor's shrieks, and Rosie took advantage of the temporary chaos and fled the classroom, giggling like mad.

The fat Hufflepuff boy jogged beside her, a huge grin on his face. "How'd I do?" he asked.

"Lovely, Terrence," Rosie congratulated. "You were very brave. Those Skiving Snackboxes are pretty useful, huh?" she giggled.

They continued on for several minutes, and soon they reached Gryffindor Tower. When they arrived at a statue of a humpbacked wizard, Terrence bade her farewell and bustled away. Rosie giggled to herself and leaned on the statue to catch her breath.

Warm arms pulled her away, ever so gently.

"Happy birthday, love," Fred whispered in her ear. He kissed her temple and held her tightly against his chest. Rosie could have melted against the heat of his strong, warm body.

Thank you," Rosie breathed, after a moment of basking in the glory of his presence. She smiled and turned to face him. "Everything went beautifully, and it—"

Any further explanation was lost, because Fred pulled Rosie into a warm, loving kiss. Somehow, despite the sudden weakening in her knees, Rosie stayed upright, probably because she gripped Fred so tightly.

She did not remember when it happened, but when the world stopped spinning, Rosie became aware of a slight weight around her neck. Fred smiled down at her, his eyes twinkling. "Just a little something from me," he murmured.

Rosie looked down and lifted a necklace the hung almost to her bosom. The chain was composed of metal crafted into intertwining vines, emerald green in color. The pendant was a crimson red rose cut from what seemed to be a ruby. It sparkled in Rosie's pale hands and then began to glow with a soft pink light.

"Oh, Fred, it's lovely!" she sighed, unable to keep from smiling. "Thank you so much, you didn't have to—"

"Shh," he chided. "It's a rose for a rose. My rose. It will only glow when you're as happy as you are now." He smiled as she blushed. "Happy birthday, Rosie… I love you."

The rose glowed so brightly that it illuminated Rosie's face. "I… I love you too, Fred," she replied, her eyes shining.

Rosie hugged him tightly; Fred could not have pulled away, even if he wanted to. It was the best birthday Rosie had ever had—a truly sweet sixteen.

This chapter is dedicated to one of my best friends, AKissBeforeDying, for showing continuing enthusiasm for this story, and also for sharing the same love I have for Fred Weasley. I must also thank her for the wonderful screenshot she sent me of Fred and George from the Half Blood Prince movie. It is currently my background on my laptop.

This chapter is also dedicated to everyone who has ever known love, whether they have given it, received it, or wished for it. Love is a beautiful, ever-changing thing, not meant to be understood, approved of, or disapproved of by anyone.

And of course, I must dedicate this chapter to all my readers, reviewers, and friends, that have kept me writing all these years. Thank you!!!