Hermione catches up on training really quickly and finishes training alongside Harry and Neville. I'm ecstatic the day she moves back into my flat. We're going to have a whole summer to work side by side in the shop while the Ministry processes all the new Aurors' tests and requirement completions. I'm sure Hermione passed all those with flying colors, just like every other exam she's ever taken.

About two weeks into the summer, Hermione receives a letter from an owl none of us recognize during work. When she unrolls the parchment, she gasps. "It's from Professor McGonagall."

George and I immediately go to her side, waiting impatiently for her to finish reading. Her cheeks turn pink, but she looks pleased, not upset. "Wow," she murmurs, handing us the letter.

Dear Miss Granger,

I hope this letter finds you well. Congratulations on your successful completion of Auror training. I had quite a scare when I heard about the explosion, but you and Harry were always very lucky.

Before you left Hogwarts, we had a long conversation about the possibility of your becoming a professor here one day. As you know, I'm acting headmistress as well as teaching Transfiguration and running Gryffindor House. I'm getting up in years now, and I would like to pass off my teaching post to someone younger and equally competent. I would like that someone to be you. I have a proposal: you come to Hogwarts and become a teacher's assistant for me. I'll teach you how to make lesson plans, manage the classroom, and provide a positive, engaging learning environment. You can also receive training in running Gryffindor; I'm sure the current students would be receptive to that, considering your recent publicity. I am sure you hate being The Girl Who Saved Harry Potter by now, so I am asking you to become The Girl Who Will Be Minerva McGonagall's Replacement.

If you are interested, please send a reply to me within the next few weeks. I understand this is a huge decision, but the sooner you decide, the sooner we can make plans for the upcoming term. I shall be in contact with you soon.

Yours,

Minerva McGonagall

Wow. That's amazing. Hermione's dream and she finally has a chance to fulfill it.

"What are you going to do?" George asks.

"I'm going to do it. I've wanted to be a professor at Hogwarts from the day I set foot on campus." She looks down at the letter again, still seeming to be in a bit of shock.

Another owl flies through the window shortly after Hermione sends her response to McGonagall, with another note for Hermione.

"You're popular today," George jokes. "Who's this one from?"

"Neville," she replies. "Professor Sprout sent him a letter about being her replacement for Herbology. He's so excited."

He'll be good at that. I wonder if they sent out letters to any of the other top students in various classes. I could imagine Harry receiving something about Defense Against the Dark Arts and Malfoy about Potions. Harry would probably decline, but I don't know about Malfoy. Hermione said he's been enjoying himself abroad.

I don't realize the implications of Hermione's decision until I'm lying in bed that night. As a professor, she'll be gone at least eight months out of the year. Nine, if she chooses to stay at Hogwarts for the winter holidays. Sure, she'll be able to help out in the shop during the summer, but she will also have to put together lesson plans for her classes. That throws a wrench into my confession plans as well. Do I tell her before she leaves for the fall term? Or do I wait until she's settled into her new position?

I turn over and look at the picture of George, Hermione, and me again. I had moved it to my nightstand, instead of keeping in my desk drawer. Hermione smiles back at me from the frame, her dark eyes dancing with happiness.

"What do you want me to do?" I ask the picture hopefully. "Do you feel the same way?"

Of course the picture doesn't answer. I'm mental for thinking it would. So I turn back over and stare at the ceiling. It's going to be a long night.

"Fred, if you don't stop hovering over me I'm going to hex you," Hermione says while we're working on a new potion mixture for our Patented Daydream Charms.

"Why is it that color?" I ask, stepping back a bit. I'm sure she's joking, but I'm not taking any chances.

"That's the color it calls for." She nods toward her Potions book.

I glance over the instructions again. She's right; the final color is supposed to be bright blue. It looks really cool actually. "You aren't really going to hex me, are you?"

She looks up long enough to shoot me a mischievous smile. "Do you really want to take that risk?"

I grin as I watch her. Hermione and I have gone back to being playful and carefree this summer and I love it. No more worrying about Ron-the git-and just enjoying time in the shop, at the Burrow, and in Hogsmeade. The weather is perfect too: sunny and warm.

"Ready to take lunch?" she asks when her concoction is complete.

"Do you want to eat in the park?" I ask. "It's a beautiful day."

"Sure."

So we walk to what we call "the park," a wide grassy area with trees and flowers right outside of Hogsmeade. We spend our breaks here when the weather is nice. Hermione says it reminds her of some places back in her Muggle hometown.

"Do you remember the day we met?" I ask when there's a break in conversation.

"The first day on the Hogwarts Express," she replies, smiling. "When I asked you if you had seen Neville's toad."

"Do you remember what I said?"

She uses my exact tone. "'Brave little First Year walking into a compartment full of Third Years. What's your name?'"

"I will never forget the condescending way you said 'pleasure' after I introduced myself to you. I knew from that moment you were going to be a pain in my arse."

She laughs. "That didn't stop you from standing up for me during that first year."

"I can't stand to see a pretty girl cry."

Her face turns a wonderful shade of red and she mumbles something incoherent. I decide to save her embarrassment by saying, "I hated the way Ron and Harry took you for granted. I don't think they ever truly appreciated what a great friend you were to them."

"What do you mean?"

"I've lost count of the number of times you've saved their necks when Voldemort was involved. Plus you listen to them whine and complain nonstop, helped them with their homework, assured their assignments would be turned in on time, and let them completely cast you to the side when they got girlfriends."

Hermione's quiet for a few moments, processing my words. "For school, maybe. But Harry defeated Voldemort."

"But he never would have done it without you." I count on my fingers. "You led him to the Sorcerer's Stone; you got petrified, but still managed to tell him what the monster in the Chamber of Secrets was and how it was moving around; you saved Sirius and Buckbeak with your Time Turner; you helped him figure out some of the clues during the Triwizard Tournament; you sacrificed everything to go on the Horcrux journey with him and save his life; and you were the one tortured in Malfoy Manor. I know he got the Prophet to write an article about you, but did he ever say thank you? Or that he appreciated you?"

"No." She swallows. "Please change the subject."

Here goes nothing. "Have I ever told you how much I admire you?"

She looks surprised, but rebounds with, "I thought I was a pain in your arse."

I laugh. "You were, sometimes still are. But that doesn't change how amazing you truly are."

"I am not."

"You're beautiful. Anyone can see that. You're intelligent. The people who went to school with you can tell you that. You're one of the most courageous people I've ever met. I evidenced that already. You're ridiculously loyal to your friends and those you care about, whether people approve or not, and whether it hurts you or not. Look at Malfoy, without you he would have had nothing."

She's obviously never heard these things before. I can tell by the look on her face. So I keep going. "Contrary to popular belief, you have a sense of humor, and a bloody good one. You've been incredibly supportive of George and my endeavors, even though you claimed our jokes were the bane of your existence. And you tried Quidditch, even though you're afraid of flying. That was brave too."

"Is that really how you see me?"

"That's how you are. And if people would take their heads out of their arses and stop taking advantage of your kindness, that's what they would see too."

Hermione reaches out and squeezes my hand. "Thanks, Fred."

The smile on her face makes me feel warm all over. "There's one more thing you should know."

"What's that?"

I reach over and take her other hand, looking straight into her eyes so she knows I'm not lying. "I care about you and I don't want to stand on the sidelines anymore. Will you go on a date with me?"

Silence. Bloody hell. I wrecked everything. As I start to pull away, my face burning, she pulls me back. Hard. I lose my balance and fall on my back. "Ouch!"

"Sorry." She offers a hand to pull me up. "I've wanted you to say that to me since my fourth year. I never thought it would happen. I thought you were out of my league."

"Me out of your league? I think it's the other way around, Miss The-Girl-Who-Saved-Harry-Potter."

She swats my arm laughing. "Stop calling me that."

"You know what that means, though? If we're both out of each other's league."

"What's that?"

I grin. "We're in the same league together."

She rolls her eyes. "Just kiss me already."

"Gladly."

The moment our lips meet, electricity flows through my entire body. I tangle my fingers into her hair, letting myself get lost in the kiss. Oh yes. This was definitely worth waiting for.