Disclaimer: I do not own any characters of Harry Potter or the world in which they live. I only wish desperately to play in it once in a while (or all the time).

Author's Note: Canon up to final battle.

Rating: Strong M

Illegitimate

In an honorable show of character, the Wizarding World righted itself after the final battle against Voldemort. It was as simple, clear, and utterly fantastic as that. Though many grieved over fallen loved ones, even they could feel the uplifting of their hearts due to a world at peace. Not a witch nor wizard dwelled upon any possibility of future evil. For now, all was well. The-Boy-Who-Lived had vanquished the Dark Lord.

It was therefore with full hearts and open minds that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, after laying to rest its fallen students and staff, chose to reinstate its graduation ceremony for the seventh year students. For, as a weepy Minerva McGonagall shared with her colleagues, it was the finest group of young minds Hogwarts had ever had the privilege of educating.

It was to this elite group of students, and to an ever more elite group of three, that an eager, bright-eyed Hermione Granger belonged. Top of her class, and yet Muggle-born, she allowed herself to feel a great sense of pride as she dressed in her graduation gowns. She surveyed herself through the full-length mirror in her Head Girl dormitory. She had grown physically, indeed. Though emotionally she was far superior to the girl she had been only weeks ago.

She owed much of this emotional maturity to her best friends. Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley had both bounced back from the battle with such exuberance for life, such bright eyes, that Hermione could no longer dwell upon the terror and sadness which Voldemort had brought forth before his demise. She could no longer justify living anything but a life full of hope and high expectations. And tonight she would allow herself pride for the woman she had become, a woman her parents would have been so glowingly proud of themselves.

With one last appraising look in the mirror, she left her dormitory to meet Ron and Harry outside of the Gryffindor common room. As she stood in the hallway, Hermione reminisced the life she'd led at Hogwarts. Seven years overflowing with, surprisingly, more good memories than bad: mischief, dances, classes, countless nights spent in the library. But mostly she thought of the two boys she would be seeing momentarily. She felt her heart swell when she thought of how lucky she had been to be cornered by that troll during first year. Something that, at the time, she never thought she would be grateful for. Of course, it had all been Ron's fault that she had nearly lost her life in that girls' lavatory. If she hadn't overheard him speaking ill of her she never would have traipsed into the bathroom that day, eyes brimming with tearful indignation.

And, oh, how tears and Ron Weasley had become something of a trend for her over the past seven years. She blushed to herself when she thought of the endless nights she'd spent crying over the simple fact he would never see her as more than a friend. It was just this past year, in fact, that Hermione had finally convinced herself to overcome the unrequited feelings. Even a near genius like she could discern when someone would not soon see her as the woman she had become. Ancient history now, she thought to herself as she heard the portrait of the Fat Lady swing open. Voices poured out towards her.

"But four years, mate," Ron was saying, "do you realize how long that is for someone to…"

"Hermione!" Harry interrupted Ron's musings with the outburst. Ron flushed. Most likely he had been in quite the hurry to get ready so as to eat everything that the graduation feast had to offer as quickly as possible. Hermione smiled at her two friends.

"Shall we, boys?" She asked.

Ron and Harry stood on either side of her, each twining an arm through hers. The trio chuckled the entire way to the Great Hall, stopping only once they reached the giant oak doors. Each marveled at the decorations strewn about the Hall and the beautiful starlit ceiling which captured the outdoor twilight so well. It was here they looked at each other and, smiling, entered the Hall for the very last time.

Hours later the food had been partaken in, each student had received his or her golden diploma, and awards had been given out. Hermione had, unsurprisingly, received the most scholarly awards in the history of Hogwarts.

"Just think," Ron had said to her, "someone will probably write this into the next edition of Hogwarts: A History." She knew he was teasing her and yet she was elated by that very thought.

Hermione Granger had now decided that there could be no day on Earth better than this. Awards were followed by a unanimous decision to fling graduation caps into the air, and soon after were photographs with family members. Both Harry and Hermione were included in the family photographs with the Weasleys. They were, frankly, family. Following photos the entire Weasley clan would be traveling back to the Burrow for post-graduation celebrations.

In moments, Hermione and the rest had apparated to the Burrow. She stared in awe at the lights strung along the house. Before she could say anything, fireworks compliments of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes were shooting through the air to several 'ooohs' and 'ahhs'. Hermione heard someone come up behind her. Assuming it were Ron or Harry, she spoke without turning.

"You know, those twins can truly accomplish some fantastic things when they put their hearts and heads together."

"A bit corny and rather sentimental, but quite glad to hear you think so, Granger," Fred replied to her. She could hear the amusement in his voice and fought the urge to blush at her mistake.

"Fred, I'm sorry. I didn't realize that was you!" Hermione stated the obvious. She turned to face him. Fred chuckled but then looked momentarily confused.

"How do you do that?" He asked her.

"Do what?"

"Tell us apart. George and I. Most of the members of our family, mum included, still haven't learned how." Hermione laughed.

"You mean, outside of the fact you still have both ears?" Fred grinned.

"No, before that even. You knew before you even looked at me."

"It's something in your voice. I've always noticed it. Like you've never known sadness and never will." Fred chuckled at her explanation.

"Hermione Granger, you are one of a kind. I don't think anyone else would ever notice that difference, love." Hermione, for no apparent reason, trembled slightly in response to how softly he has spoken to her. She smiled and followed him into the Burrow with the rest of the clan.

After hours of good, clean, Weasley-party fun Hermione realized that her earlier belief that no other night could be quite as great as this one was incredibly true. She looked around at the loved ones present: Bill and Fleur, Charlie, Percy and Penelope, the twins, Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Mr. And Mrs. Weasley. Almost everyone that she had ever come to care for during the last seven years of her life was there, all celebrating and happier than she could remember them being in years. She watched as, one by one, they either apparated or trudged upstairs for a well-deserved slumber. Soon just she and Ginny remained downstairs.

"Are you coming up, Hermione?"

"In a minute, Gin, thanks." She watched as the tiny redhead followed where the others had scuttled off to. Hermione wrapped the thick blanket tighter around her shoulders and stepped out the back door. Sitting atop a rickety Muggle picnic table, she looked up into the clear sky. She marveled at the multitude of stars that hung above her head.

"Sickle for your thoughts," she heard Fred say from somewhere behind her.

"I thought everyone had gone to bed. What are you doing awake?" She asked him.

"Came down to check that all the lights were out. Surprisingly, I'm the only one in this house not entirely pissed tonight."

"Excuse me, I had only one Butterbeer!" Hermione argued.

Fred sniggered and sat down next to her. He threw a friendly arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to his warmth. Hermione noticed absent-mindedly that he had grown since his Hogwarts days. He'd become more broad-shouldered, more solid.

"In all seriousness, this has been a bloody awful year, but the celebration tonight was well worth the wait."

Hermione murmured in agreement to this.

"It was nice to see Harry, Ron… you so at ease for once. I thought for sure you three chaps would have gone and had a bloody stroke by now," Fred joked. Hermione playfully punched him in the chest.

"It is nice though... to be at ease," she told him. "Tonight was brilliant, and I very much enjoyed your lovely fireworks."

"Quite happy to be of service to you, m'lady," Fred replied in a voice that conjured images of dirty pirates in Hermione's head. She laughed with him as each turned to face the other.

"Watch this," he whispered, flicking his wand in a tight circle near Hermione's head. Her eyes twinkled as miniature maroon and gold fireworks began circling their heads before popping. Suddenly, a stray firework popped behind Hermione's ear causing her to lean closer into Fred in fright. They laughed together and before Hermione could pull away she looked into his eyes. She could see some sort of emotion there, one she could not describe. Something she had never seen in Fred Weasley's eyes before, not that she were accustomed to staring into them.

"Hermione," Fred began, his voice suddenly much deeper than usual, "do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"

She had not expected that. Hermione could feel her face heating up and knew she must put distance between hers and Fred's. Before she could do that, he reached up and tucked an unruly brown curl behind her ear. She could not pull her eyes away from his.

"Would you be absolutely horrified if I were to snog you senseless right now?" He asked in that deep, slow voice. It should have been funny, but Hermione found herself unable to laugh. She could feel her heart fluttering against her ribcage.

"Not at all," she heard herself say. She wasn't sure why.

Her eyes fluttered closed as Fred's hand, still behind her ear, buried itself in her curls, gently pulling her face toward his. Slowly he pressed his warm lips to her full ones in an urgent but soft kiss. Soon she opened her mouth to him at the insistence of his probing tongue. Hermione could feel her stomach flip-flopping as the kiss intensified. For some reason, she was inclined to place tentative hands against Fred's chest as his other hand came up to frame the side of her face. In that moment, Hermione could not imagine ever ending this unexpected kiss. She felt, quite simply, that she could spend the rest of her life wrapped in the strong arms of one, Fred Weasley.