AN: So, I'm back after a really long hiatus, and I've decided to update my least ever viewed fic first. Congratulations, Roodwook. You're a complete mess.

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Hermione burst into the common room later that week with incredible urgency. Since she often did this – whether it was a small matter of homework or something to do with Voldemort, Hermione seemed to think they both required the utmost urgency – Ron and Harry continued playing wizard chess without batting an eyelid, as did most of the older pupils. A few first years, however, reacted, from flinching to small squeals to falling off their chair and sprawling on the floor. Hermione paid them no heed and made a beeline to where Ron and Harry were sitting.

"Hermione, I don't want to hear about homework, this is the closest I've ever got to winning," Harry muttered, flicking his wand so that his knight galloped into a different space and his horse reared threateningly. One of Ron's pawns, who was right in the firing line, flinched and looked up at Ron in what he clearly imagined to be a beseeching manner.

"This isn't about homework," Hermione said indignantly. "I've figured out who your secret writer is!"

Ron, who had been edging his pawn forward, dropped his wand and the pawn fell flat on it's face. "You what?"

"Well, not exactly," Hermione amended hurriedly, "But I've drawn some logical conclusions."

"From two presents you think you've figured out who Harry's secret admirer is?"

Ginny clambered over them to listen intently, followed by a slightly disgruntled Dean. "You have?"

"Not exactly, Ron, I just said that," said Hermione impatiently. "But I've made logical conclusions."

"Let's hear them, then," Ginny said.

"Well, first of all, I believe it's a male."

Ron turned a delicate shade of green. "You think it's a bloke? Why?"

"Think!" Hermione said (at this, Ginny snorted). "Male shampoo and male aftershave – unwrapped. Sure, they sent it to Harry wrapped, but after they'd bought it. If you were a woman, and you walked into a store to buy male stuff specifically to send to a male, you'd have them wrap it, wouldn't you? It would be a bit inconspicuous to walk around with unwrapped, not to mention a bit embarrassing if someone called you out on it."

"She's right," Ginny and Harry chorused. Ron, still looking slightly gobsmacked, did not join in.

"Well, I hope that's the bad news," he said hollowly. "Harry's not even gay."

"Well," Hermione pressed on, "I think it's also a Slytherin."

"Really?" Ginny asked, sounding quite merry about this announcement. "That's interesting."

"Is it?" Ron asked weakly.

"First of all," Hermione said, sounding quite business like. "He says 'Potter'. Not many people apart from Slytherins say Potter – everyone knows his first name, so Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and obviously Gryffindors say Harry. Slytherin, as a whole, use Potter because they dislike him."

"I thought you said he probably didn't dislike me?" Harry asked, mystified.

"I meant the house dislikes you, not the sender," Hermione said impatiently, as if she was fed up explaining to lesser minds how her logic worked. "But that's not all. The first envelope was written in green ink. Green is associated with Slytherin, and so other houses tend to avoid it where possible. If you got some green ink out right now, Gryffindor would be wondering what the hell you were doing. Really, house stereotypes are helpful to identify people apart."

"So it's a male Slytherin?" Ron asked, sounding faint.

"I'm afraid so," Hermione said, but her tone sounded like this comment was just a necessity rather than her actually meaning anything.

"Why has he stopped sending me gifts?" Harry asked.

Hermione shrugged. "Perhaps he doesn't have a ton of gifts stockpiled?"

"Maybe," Ginny said slowly, "He's trying to court you."

Hermione and Harry looked at her quizzically. Hermione looked miffed Ginny had a theory that she didn't, and Harry was sure he just had the facial expression of a flobberworm from his brain working too hard. It was a face he recognised since he had habitually pulled the exact same muscles during history of magic lessons.

"Of course, you two wouldn't know," She continued, "Being muggle-born or muggle-raised, but wizard courtship often starts with sending a gift or so a week. In traditional terms, anyway. And if you're right, Hermione, and it is a Slytherin, a lot of them are pureblood and therefore uphold old traditions. He'll probably reveal himself at some point, but it's considered pretty usual in those circles to send gifts for a few weeks without revealing your identity."

"That seems inefficient," Hermione remarked.

"Yeah, well, wizards and witches aren't exactly the most efficient people in a lot of ways, are they?" Dean asked reasonably. Harry had forgotten he was there. "Does that mean I should have brought you gifts every week then?"

Ginny laughed and brought her lips to his. Harry and Ron both looked away as one. At least they didn't make the disgusting sound that Ron had during his brief tryst with Lavender, so that was a mercy.

"But Harry's not even gay!" Ron exclaimed.

It looked as if he was expecting a chorus of 'he's right'; getting no reply, he stared appealingly at Harry. "You're not, right?"

Harry shrugged. "Would it matter if I was?"

Ron struggled with his words, and then sagged his shoulders. "I suppose not," he said grudgingly. "It's just a bit gross, you know?"

"He's right," said Dean, having de-attached himself from Ginny's lips. "But only because we're straight guys. I'm not homophobic or anything."

"Perhaps," Hermione said thoughtfully, "That's why he's not telling you. He's scared of homophobia from you or from his house. Slytherin isn't exactly renowned for gay marriage, is it? They all rely on reproducing and making heirs to their families. I think we need to ask a Slytherin. Find out if this is all some joke."

"Hermione," Ron said, "I don't think that any Slytherins we know would be particularly open to that idea."

"No," Hermione conceded. "But we're not Gryffindors for nothing."

Harry looked at her curiously. "What exactly are you suggesting?"

"The next time we're in position, we grab the bull by the horns and go," Hermione concluded cheerfully. "Now. Does anyone want to finish their Potions homework with me?"

"Me and Dean have to go," Ginny said quickly, pulling Dean by his wrist towards the portrait hole. "You know. Alone time."

With a sense of resignation, Harry and Ron pulled out their Potions essays, both unfinished. Harry had given up about halfway through and Ron had done a few illegible scrawls before giving up and drawing a doodle of Draco with a triangular, particularly pointy head. Harry snorted, but Hermione gave them a stern look before pulling out her wand and vanishing the doodle from his page.

"Now," she began brightly, "How many lines have you done on the wand movements?"

Harry had written "a wave" and Ron had simply drawn a squiggle.

Harry felt kind of bad at Hermione's disappointed face when she heard this news.

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Okay so this is short, but I have a clear idea of the next chapter and it should have a whole lot more crack in it. It got me back in the swing of writing, too, so I should be updating more now it's summer. Hope anyone that reads this enjoyed!