Welcome to the new and improved IYDW. Enjoy.

Chapter 1: In Your Dreams, Weasley

It was a Saturday night at the Burrow, so naturally this meant that the entire Weasley clan was present. This wasn't any old Saturday night, this was the Saturday following August 22, Percy's birthday, which meant that every Weasley and friend was in attendance, even Charlie Weasley, who's mother all but dragged him home from Romania.

This Saturday was spent like most Saturdays at the Burrow, in chaos. It was the sort of post-war, comfortable chaos that the Weasleys treasured. Dinner was over, and with it the bustle that comes with every meal of Molly's, so the over-stuffed guests sprawled out around the house.

Arthur Weasley was having a very serious, though mostly one-sided conversation with Percy about megaphones, as Percy uninterestedly glanced over that morning's Prophet. George, Fred and Lee sat on the couch explaining to Ginny the engineering behind whatever new gadget they were designing that week. Charlie and Bill shared firewhiskey (much to their mother's chagrin) and played wizards chess, an old habit of theirs from their mid-Hogwarts summers, laughing madly as their worn out pieces smashed each other to bits. A nearly nine-month pregnant Fleur sat at the dinner table chatting animatedly as Molly fretted about the kitchen. And the golden trio, though they were very sick of being called so, sat on the floor by the fireplace making up for the time they lost, giggling about things they didn't have the time to giggle about a year ago. Conversations were less about horcuxes and death eaters, and more about what hobby Filch might take up in his retirement or what Professor Slughorn would look like in a tea cosy.

"Merlin," exclaimed Harry, "that's a scary image." Hermione clutched her stomach as the uncontrollable laughter bubbled through her lips.

"Honestly Ron," Hermione pointed at the pink and blue floral tea cosy Ron was playing with, "how do you come up with such things?"

"I don't know! I suppose Mum's tea cosy quite reminded me of Dobby's!" Harry pulled a sad face at the memory.

"Oh, don't get me started on those poor creatures." said Hermione. Harry and Ron gave each other pointed looks. "Wearing only tea cosies and pillow cases, if anything at all! Why the poor things must be freezing in the winter. Trampling all over the castle, even in the coldest months, not even a hat to keep them warm."

Ron let out a sigh. "Yes, yes, 'Mione. We know all about their sufferings, and SPEW, and knitting hats, and all that, despite the fact that those poor things actually want to work and your interference distresses them greatly." Before Hermione had a chance to make a rebuke, a loud bang was heard from the couch. The trio looked over to find some kind of pinkish gue exploded all over Ginny.

Ginny roared. "Bloody hell, you two!" A quiet, exasperated "language Ginny!" could be heard from the kitchen as Ginny bolted after the escaping twins. The trio laughed at the common sight and returned to their previous conversation.

"Anyway," Harry said, "I'm sure Dobby was grateful for your SPEW efforts, Hermione."

"I'm sure he was. And the rest of them would be to if they only knew how they were being-" Hermione jumped mid sentence when she felt something creep up her back.

"A bit jumpy there Granger?" She spun around to find to her great relief that it was only George.

"You grabbed me unexpectedly from behind!" George glanced at Hermione, considering her words.

"I didn't grab you..." George peered over his shoulder at Lee, as if for intelligence. "I, er, lightly caressed your shoulder." Harry, Ron and Hermione immediately cracked up his words. George took a step back and studied Hermione as if noticing her for the first time.

"Alright George, whatever you want to call it." George threw Hermione an almost convincing look of confusion.

"I'm not George, I'm Fred."

"You know, George, I'm not so easy to fool. I can always tell you two apart."

"Ah I see, Granger." George lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You've been paying attention to the most handsome twin, have you?" Hermione snorted.

"In your dreams," she paused and added, "Weasley."

"Now what have you been doing in my dreams, Granger?" George leaned against the fireplace and raised an eyebrow for effect.

"What are you doing dreaming of me?" George at a loss on how to answer, was thankful for Fred's interruption.

"She's closing in on us!" Fred yelled as he bounded toward the group. George looked over his shoulder, and sure enough Ginny could be seen racing down the stairs into the living room after Fred.

"Behind Harry!" the twins yelled in unison as they dove behind Harry's back. Ginny skidded to a stop as Harry gave what seemed to be a sheepish grin.

"Very clever, boys, I underestimated you." Ginny, secretly tired of running, softened quickly. She plopped herself down next to Harry and started playing with the hem of his sweater. Harry responded automatically by leaning into her.

Looking at Harry and Ginny, Hermione mulled over the short relationship she and Ron had. It had been the dearest wish of all those around her for their relationship to work out. As it were, the romance had quickly fizzled out. Ron began Auror training and Hermione had gone back to complete her seventh year. After pining after him for so long, she had discovered that Ron wasn't all that she thought he was. In a way, he was the same eleven-year old boy who had irked her to no end in first year. They had tested it out, and though it didn't quite fail, they discovered that they made better best friends than lovers.

"Sickle for your thoughts?" Hermione snapped out of her reverie to find George Weasley sitting cross legged next to her.

"You know," Hermione said giggling, "that actually comes from the muggle saying 'penny for your thoughts.'"

"What on earth is a penny?"

"Oh just an American muggle coin. Though a penny is hardly worth anything."

"Alright then, how about a galleon for yours? I imagine that for the thoughts of a bright witch such as yourself I'll have to pay more than usual." George wiggled his brows.

"What a horrid compliment! Don't think you'll get in my good books so easily George Weasley." George laughed but gave her an expectant look. "If you must know I was just thinking about Harry and Ginny."

"Ah yes. The Daily Prophet's favourite couple."

"So you saw last weeks headline, I see"

Fred's head popped up at this from across the circle. "'Newest Harpy Catches The-Boy-Who-Loved'!" He shouted.

"Yes, that one." Hermione said to George.

"What a rubbish title. I don't think I could've avoided it if I wished to." They looked over at the happy couple, who were now absorbed in their own conversation, Ron having tactfully turned away to chat with Fred. "Of course the article was much worse than the headline. All those quidditch puns."

"I quite thought you liked quidditch puns?" Hermione tilted her head quizzically, recalling hearing him and Fred use one not so long ago.

"Aye, that I do. But that writer wrote such rubbish!"

"Well I think most of the Prophet is rubbish anyway." Said Hermione, scrunching up her face.

"Oh yes." A gleam appeared in George's eye. "I recall that you were once the subject of a Harry related headline." Hermione blushed. "Wasn't it that you were actually with dear Krum all the while?"

"Er, yes. Something like that."

"Well look at you and all your celebrities Granger! Who's next? Minister Kingsley? Fred and I?"

"You and Fred are hardly celebrities just because you opened up a joke shop."

"Oi!" Fred protested, clearly eavesdropping. George laughed heartily.

"Alright then, tell me Granger," George leaned in close, "how was the famous Victor Krum at snogging?" Hermione swatted him away.

"Okay! I think I've had quite enough fun for the night." Hermione started to get up, planning on heading towards the room she was temporarily occupying at the Burrow.

At that exact moment Lee ran by, shoving George into - or rather onto - Hermione.

"Why, dear Granger," said George, unable to resist teasing her, "we seem to find ourselves in a compromising position." Hermioned scoffed.

"Hardly."

"Afraid you're enjoying yourself?"

Hermione leaned in close, George mechanically leaned in as well. "In your dreams, Weasley." She whispered and pushed him off.

Collecting a book she had earlier discarded on the floor, she walked upstairs, leaving a breathless George Weasley on the floor behind her. He only tore his eyes from her back when he felt Fred next to him.

"So tell me Forge, do you fancy Granger?" George almost replied with a firm 'Of course not!', but stopped short, realisation spreading across his features.

"Shit."