The Yearbook

"Ok, ok, let's do this," Parvati said, waving the Yearbook. "There's a few blank pages at the end, that I think are for autographs, but let's fill them up."

"With what?" Hermione asked, looking up from her final exam papers. "I'll sign it, if you like."

"No!" Lavender said, with a grin identical to Parvati's. "We'll make our own yearbook." She turned to the blank page and picked up a quill. "Number One," she continued. "Most likely to..."

"Take over the world?" Ron suggested.

"Great!" Parvati said, laughing. "Now, we have to write everyone's names on a list, and pick from there." She did so, on a scrap piece of parchment Harry handed her. "Me... Lavender... Ron... Harry... Seamus... Dean... Hermione... Neville... " she looked up. "Hey, Ginny! You want in on this?"

"What is it?" Ginny asked, coming over from her group.

"We're making up our own yearbook," Dean explained. "We're trying to figure out who'll take over the world."

"Hermione," Ginny said instantly. "I'll join in - but I'm not in your year. Does that matter?"

"Nah," Seamus said, taking the parchment and writing Ginny's name down. "Ok, Hermione is most likely to take over the world."

"I'm what?" Hermione asked, leaning over. "Me? Take over the world? Not likely."

"Come on, Hermione, it's just for fun," Harry said. "What's the next idea?"

"Most likely to lose something big?" Ron suggested.

"Like what?" Neville asked. "A game, or what?"

"Quidditch," Ginny suggested.

"No, their house!" Lavender suggested, laughing.

"Or - something else," Parvati suggested.

"Parvati!" Ginny said, shocked. "That goes under "who's most likely to have a sex change", silly!"

"Ginny!" said Ron, shocked. "Look, if it's anything to do with losing something, I bet on Neville." He looked up and grinned at the round faced boy. "Sorry, mate."

Lavender wrote Ron's suggestion down, followed by Neville's name. "What's next?" she asked. She grinned suddenly. "I like Ginny's idea, but I suggest "who's most likely to be gay or have a sex change." What do you think?" she asked.

Everyone agreed, and then there was silence while they tried to figure out who would best fit this question. "Seamus!" Hermione shouted suddenly.

"Good idea!" Parvati said, writing his name down.

"Excuse me?" Seamus asked. "Hermione, I can't believe you just said that!"

"Well, if you hadn't been trying to Charm my shoes, I wouldn't have yelled out!" She turned her wand on her left shoe, which was tapping and shuffling. "Besides, it's just a joke."

"So, we've got Hermione, Neville, and Seamus," Dean said, crossing those names off his list. "I vote for Parvati as most likely to imitate Professor Trelawney, and Lavender as most likely to marry a rich guy."

"I have no problem with that," Lavender replied, writing it down. "I move that you, Dean Thomas, will become a barman or a bum." She laughed along with everyone else.

"Harry'll play Quidditch for England - wait, is that too obvious?"

"Ron will - hey, someone, what'll Ron do?"

"Get eaten by a spider," Hermione chuckled. She took charge of the book and wrote the last two suggestions down. "All right, space enough for one more."

"Most likely to leave England - but then come back because they've done something wrong," Dean offered.

"Yeah, that'll do. I vote Neville," Harry said.

"No, Neville's most likely to lose something," Hermione read out. "And everyone else has one. Except you, Ginny."

"Well, it looks like our little Ginnykins has that last one," Lavender said with a chuckle. "Don't look so worried. It's only a game, a joke. Remember?"

"Yeah, I know," Ginny said with a laugh. The writing on the book twinkled a bit, then seemed to burn into the paper, leaving dents. "Whose is this?"

"Mine," Parvati answered. "I'm going to keep it, and in five years we'll have to see whether any of this has actually happened."

"Ten Galleons says it won't," Seamus said with a chuckle. "Oh, it's six thirty. Come on, it's time for dinner." He put on a mournful face. "Our last dinner at Hogwarts."

"Oh, don't," Hermione said. "It's too sad."

* * * Four Years Later * * *

"Ginny's coming home," Ron said to Harry and Hermione. The three of them were seated at the dinner table. "I got a letter from her today. She wants to come and stay for a while, and I told her it was ok. Do you mind?"

"No," Hermione said, a forkful of pasta halfway to her mouth. "I think -"

Her sentence was cut off as the front door slammed shut. "Hello!" someone called, and then Christina Applegate was making her way through the hallway. "You will not believe the day I had," she said, flopping down next to Hermione. "There was so much work to get through today, and just before I left the Boss asked me if I'd mind staying and filing a few things. I didn't want to of course, but what could I do? So I filed it. And his files -" she took a deep breath to steady herself, and went into the kitchen. There were sounds of her getting dinner, and she emerged with a plate in one hand and a large glass of elderflower wine in the other.

"That bad, huh?" Harry asked. Chris was American, and had met Hermione at the Ministry of Magic. Hermione had worked there for a few years, but was now a stay at home author.

Chris was an Unspeakable; she worked in the Department of Mysteries. She never exactly gave anything away, but she wasn't all that close either. Her favourite excuse, when she was reprimanded, was "things are different in America."

"Worse," Chris said, with a shake of her head. "You wouldn't believe what happened this morning. There was -"

"I've had some news," Ron interrupted loudly. Chris looked annoyed for a second, then her eyes grew wide.

"I just nearly gave something away, didn't I? Damn." She turned to Ron. "What have you heard? If it was the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I told them already that I didn't -" she trailed off. "Oh. Keep going."

"I got a letter from my sister today," Ron said. "She's been staying with my brother Bill, in Egypt." Chris waved him on, as if to say, "I knew all that. Keep going."

"Well, she's coming home for a visit. She'll be here tomorrow, about five."

"Right," Chris said. "What's the plan?"

"Could you cook something?" Ron asked. "I know you don't get home until late, but you can cook really well."

"Umm..." Chris considered. "Yes, ok. I needed a day off anyway." she turned to Hermione. "Oh, celebtrated authoress, would you be able to give me a hand? Or are you busy?"

"Depends. What are you making?"

Hermione and Chris took the plates to the sink, still discussing dinner. Harry and Ron washed up. "You know," Ron said thoughtfully, "for the life of me, I still can't figure out how Chris moved in."

"You don't like her being here?" Harry asked. He flicked his wand at the sink, and the plates started to wash themselves. Ron had already charmed the tea-towel, which was at the ready for the first few dishes.

"Yeah, I do, but remember how we said when we moved in that it would just be us three?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded. "Then Hermione made friends with Christina, and she was complaining that we needed another girl around the place, and then Chris moved in." He laughed. "It only took about three weeks."

"They're talking about us again, Hermione," Christina said, coming into the kitchen. She raided the fridge, found the milk, and poured two glasses. "What are you two discussing, oh so seriously?" She turned around and sighed. "You haven't even put the dishes away. How did Hermione cope when it was just the three of you?"

Harry and Ron didn't take offence, as it was clear she hadn't meant it. She pointed her own wand at the dry dishes, and ducked as the flew to their respective places.

"We've figured it out," Chris said. "I'm going to call in sick tomorrow, then I'll go shopping."

"You're supposed to be cooking!" Harry said. They made their way into the living room, where Hermione already sat. Ron and Harry took the armchairs, and Chris stretched her long frame out on the floor.

"Food shopping, you idiot." She took a sip of her milk, passed the other glass to Hermione and started stratching out her legs. Christina was tall, with chestnut hair and light blue eyes. At the age of twenty one, she was already six foot. "I figured that way Hermione will get some work done -"

"Hermione gets entirely too much work done," Harry muttered.

"As I was saying," Chris continued loudly. "Then, when I get home, Hermione and I will cook the dinner. I've figured out the appetisers - we'll have pumpkin soup, I reckon, and then we'll have smoked salmon or something like that for the main course. But what should we have for dessert?"

"Apple Pie, I said," Hermione replied. "With ice cream or cream custard."

"Strawberry Shortcake," Ron suggested. "Or maybe a pudding of some kind."

"Strawberry Shortcake sounds nice," Hermione said. "And I know I have a recipe for that, at least. The only recipe for pudding I have is for Christmas Pudding."

"Strawberry shortcake it is, then," Christina said. "With cream, and fresh fruit, and all kinds of neat stuff."

"How much do you want to eat?" Harry asked in horror. "One strawberry shortcake divded between five people. That's plenty."

"Six," Ron said. "I forgot to mention, Bill's ducking in with her. But that is plenty, especially if we're having a three course meal."

"I can't believe you lot," Christina said, lookng from one to the other. "If we were in America, everyone would think you were either anorexic or on a diet."

"Americans," Hermione said, shaking her head. She was soon hit by a cushion Christina had grabbed off the couch.

"That's it!" Chris cried with a laugh. "This means war!" Cushions soon bounced off Harry and Ron's head too, thrown by Hermione and Christina respectively.

"So juvenile," Harry said, sitting back and trying to look dignified. All that did was invite three more cushions to hit him. "That's it!"

Soon all four of them were having a furious pillow fight. Christina ran up the stairs and returned with the mound of pillows and cushions that normally graced her bed. She passed one to Hermione and took another, and without a word they started to beat Harry and Ron.

"Oi! Not fair!" Ron yelled, voice muffled by the pillow Chris was currently holding over his head.

Harry grabbed Christina from behind, and, dodging the pillow Hermione threw at him, pulled her off Ron. She gave a shout, and fought, pushing him backwards onto the floor. Ron grabbed Hermione, resulting in a shrieking heap of normally dignified young adults.

"I hope Ginny isn't one of those old-fashioned types," Christina said later, when they were all tired out. "I hate to break it to her, but she's going to be a bit shocked."

"No, she'll be fine," Ron replied. He managed to grasp one of the cushions scattered over the living room floor, and whacked Chris with it. "I win."

A large pink satin pillow fell on his head. "Not anymore," Hermione said with a laugh.