I never knew much about my littlest brother's friends- other than Harry Potter. I heard of a little girl he hated, but other than that I felt out of the loop. I heard of great adventures, but they sounded more like fairy tales.

Then my sister, Merlin, my sister was possessed by a diary. Whose, no one told me or Charlie. Who pays attention to the older brothers who live far away? All I know is that his name was Tom Riddle. What Harry and Ron did to save her, I'll never know. I asked Ron when he (and the family) visited me in Egypt. But Ron kept claiming he couldn't say anything but he couldn't have done it without her. Her? I asked, but he said Mum called him.

The little liar.

The next year I heard of Sirius Black. No, I had said, Just the tabloid. Yet I couldn't help but worry. A year passed, the worst year of my life (next to when the Twins turned 5- they could talk and pull pranks…and, oh, the accidental magic.) and I saw the Daily Prophet. There they were, Ron and Harry. What caught my eye, though, was the bushy haired girl between them. The way they stood together showed that they hadn't become friends this just this year.

I quickly scanned the article, scarcely believing what I read, to find her name was Hermione Granger. With a slight grin I noticed Hermione was standing closer to Ron than to Harry. There could still be childish innocence in a world of darkness. I looked at the picture again, and was shocked at their maturity. Ron and Harry moved to put their arms tighter around her shoulders, and she moved back against them. The boys seemed protective of her. She looked like the type to flare at being protected, yet she seemed relieved to be with them.

The next year was the Triwizard Tournament, and I immediately noticed the veela. I tore my eyes away for a moment to see Harry Potter. I reread the article, and found what I was looking for. It said:

"Though you must be 17 to compete, young Harry Potter has entered. At the humble age of 14 he shows, that yes, the poor boy craves attention….."

He was 14. I wondered if Mum knew. Later I saw pictures of some Yule Ball. I saw Harry dance with a pretty girl, but I noticed that Hermione danced with Victor Krum. In the corner sat Ron, with a very bored girl who looked like the one Harry was dancing with, glaring at the couple. I laughed aloud. My co-workers looked at me, so I pointed out the picture. We all laughed together. We all knew that that was one of those days where school was just school, and all other troubles didn't exist. Then death took its toll. Making them age into maturity before their time, but as I thought that I realized, they had matured so long ago, but had managed to keep hold of innocence and childlike joy.

You-Know-Who might be back. I shook the thought out of my head. While he used to be a deadly reality, now he was as real as Martin the Mad Muggle. Over the summer I got many letters from Mum complaining about Ron and Hermione bickering as if there was no tomorrow. I grinned impishly. Yet a week or two later I got a picture from Mum. Expecting a picture of Ginny, I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the picture. It was Ron, Harry, and Hermione. They were standing side by side.

Harry and Ron had their arms flung around Hermione's shoulders, on either side. They held her protectively again. She her arms around their mid-backs, in a sort of possessive way, like she was saying she was theirs and they were hers. When Ron turned to look at Hermione and his gaze was full of love, though I doubted he knew that, Hermione stared back, just as lovingly. Harry looked at her with love as well, but more in a way that I would look at Ginny. Then they all looked at each other and laughed, full of friendship. Their friendship, how deep it was, shocked me. It made my heart skip a beat and made me take in a sharp intake of breath. How I felt at that moment I still can't explain. I hung it above my desk, and on the first day, when I came back to lunch, I saw all my co-workers staring at picture reverently.

I fell in love in the midst of war. The veela girl from Ron's 4th year, I fell in love with a veela. My brother's will take the mikey out of me, and I'll take it. How classically romantic. How perfect. I decided I had to marry her. Soon.

"Why so soon?" people asked me.

"There might not be a tomorrow." I answered.

My family obviously disliked her. I loved (love) her so much, but for a Weasley, family was dominant. Thinking that exact thought, it struck me. It wasn't family itself we cared about. It was (is) the love we share that held us together. Damn what my family says, this was my love and I wasn't going to let her run away.

I heard of a blonde girl my brother was dating. I shook my head sadly at the tear splotched letter I received secretly from a distressed Hermione. She had never spoken to me much before so the letter definitely had aroused my curiosity. The letter read:

Bill,

I know I've never spoken to you much before, so I apologize for starting now. I wrote to tell you one thing you mustn't repeat: I AM IN LOVE WITH YOUR YOUNGEST BROTHER. Laugh now. I don't care anymore. He's broken my bloody (Sorry for swearing) heart! He…he started dating a blonde girl with a big…ah…bosom. I've waited to long, I tell myself, yet every time I see him, my heart lurches.

Sorry for troubling you, I wrote to you only because I knew you wouldn't tease me. Don't bother responding. It's alright.

With Love,

Hermione Granger

I sighed; my own brother didn't realize that the girl he loves loved just as much. I put the letter in my rapidly filling box that carried mementos of the ever deepening friendship of the Boy Who Lived, a Weasley, and the Cleverest Witch of her age. I stole a glance of that picture that had been taken only last year.

Battle. It will be determined tonight who's on who's side. I will be on the light side.

Then my world is shaken by a werewolf. Fleur will never love me again. When I finally came to, the first face I saw was Fleur's. My heart filled with joy.

The final year, I knew it. The 7th year since my brother became entangled in the mess that is Harry Potter. The 3rd since my brother fell in love. The world crashes and crumbles around me, but I'll stay strong.

Here he is, my hot-tempered brother. He ran away, how typical. He'll make it back, that I knew. Soon enough he disappeared.

Sure enough, he came barreling back with a bloody Hermione in his large arms. Fleur treated her, and then we had the first funeral of many to come. Standing together, again, I saw how the Trio was mature beyond their years. But know the innocence and joy they once had held on to had vanished.

It was over. Done. Yet we had lost too many in the process. How can years of fear be erased so quickly? I shook my head not wanting to understand. I ran away from the Great Hall and to the Lake. I looked at the sight I came across when I got there and sighed happily. This is how it can be erased. Not with forgetting, but with moving forward.

The sight I saw was this: Hermione snuggled against Ron and Ron holding her close. Harry was holding Hermione on her other side his arm cushioning his own head. His other hand rested on her shoulder; all sleeping peacefully.

The most important thing in the world to the two boys was this beautiful girl. Always between them, always protected, always the center of their world, always loved. Fleur came to me and draped her arms around me.

I felt sort of bad for Ginny, at that moment. Though Harry loved Ginny, Hermione and Ron would always have to come first. No denying it. I laughed a bit, surprised by the love that was clearly emitted from the three children, who were the center of the cruelest war in history.

Fleur stared at me and I whispered my feeling in her ear, and she laughed with me. Their eyes all fluttered. I quieted myself. I reminded myself and Fleur, that they were incredibly light sleepers.

Weddings- joy after terror that was the only thing that existed for the year after the battle. The first of many weddings was Ron's and Hermione's. As they kissed I thought of bushy red-haired kids playing quidditch and reading huge books. I laughed aloud. It was really over. We could say 'I'll do it tomorrow' without fearing you won't be there the next day. Everyone seemed to understand and laughed with me. Ron and Hermione broke apart, and laughed as well. They understood as well.

It was the two year anniversary of the Final Battle. In my arms I held a little baby girl. She would be as pretty as veela despite the slightly orange hair.

Outside the ward's door my entire family awaited the news. I walked out and saw the faces of: a happy Ron and Hermione, a cheerful Harry and Ginny, a bumbling Mum and dad, a still laughing George, a recently forgiven Percy, a nervous Charlie, and a confused Teddy.

"Well, what's his name?" Charlie asked.

"Her." I corrected.

"Well, what's her name?"

"Victoire." I said.

Victoire.

Victory.