"Ha ha ha!!" a young man cackled, walking into the room. "You, my dear, are brilliant." A frail young woman looked up from her seat on a chair.

"Thanks," she replied, grinning mischievously. "I bet her face was priceless."

"Wish we could have seen it," the man sighed, plopping down in a chair adjacent to his friend.

"Well, let's hope it works."

"It better. Did you get the ingredients?"

"Uggh. Yes. For the love of Merlin yes!"

"Don't get an attitude," he warned, glaring at the girl. "If you do, I won't help you and you know it."

"Fine. You've just been asking me all day. I didn't have time till about two hours ago," she explained.

"Then where is everything?"

"Under all my spring clothing at the bottom of my dresser."

"Nice place to hide it," he commented. "It will take a while, do you have time to wait?" The girl sighed and thought it over.

"How long?"

"Maybe a month or so…probably shorter," he estimated. The girl pursed her lips together, obviously unhappy.

"I guess so. We can let her marinate in confusion for awhile. Maybe it will just scare her so much she won't know what hit her and break it off."

"Maybe. But then all of our hard work would have been for nothing," the man muttered.

"I'm the one who got the ingredients, you git."

"But I'm making it."

"Cause you are the only one who can."

"You know, we never did talk about my payment," the man mentioned casually.

"I promised I'd set you up, didn't I?" He sighed, thinking of the object of his affections.

"You are sure you can, right?"

"Yes," the girl grunted. "I can. Don't worry. You will get a date." The young guy smiled. "Why do you like her so much anyway?"

"She's just kind of nice to me. She's the only person who ever talks to me other than you."

"You never talk to anyone, anyway. But…I think she may like you."

"Really?!" he cried. His eyes widened, then he relaxed in his seat. "Uh…I mean….Really?" he asked, more casually.

"Yes, really. But first, you have to help me with my plot."

"Done."

"Thank you. And I will get you a date. Next Hogsmeade trip; she's yours," she promised.

"Wonderful. Thank you very much."

"You are welcome. Can you get started tomorrow?"

"Gladly," he agreed.

"Great," she replied. "Let the games begin."

"I don't recognize the writing," Harry muttered. He passed the note to Fred and George who sat next to Hermione and Ginny on the couch. Harry was sitting on the floor in front of the fire and Ron was sitting in the armchair.

"Isn't there something you can do? This could be a possible death threat for all we know!" Ron cried distress obvious in his voice. "Don't you two have something in that weird loot of yours that will help figure out who this psychopath is?"

"Ron, we make jokes-" Fred began.

"Not miracles," George finished. They looked at the letter.

"From what I can tell, it's a quill like mine-an eagle feather. And it's got a small hole on the left side," Fred observed.

"Yup. I agree. So we need to find someone with a brown quill…And very terrible handwriting," George muttered. "This cursive is pretty shaky and long. They were trying to make it look as neat as possible. And they failed."

"Unless they wrote it on some train or something," Ginny muttered. "But how did you two know all that from just looking at it?"

"Skill," they said in unison. Hermione let out a long sigh, trying to prevent tears from streaming down her face.

"I just can't believe this," she whispered. Ginny put her arms around Hermione, giving her a tight squeeze. "Who found out? How does anyone know? None of you told anyone, did you?" Everyone shook their heads. Hermione turned to Ron and stared at him. "Ron…" she asked breathily.

"What?" he asked. "You don't honestly think that I would….Hermione?"

"I don't know. I just don't know. If nobody told anyone else...I mean, you were the one who put up the biggest fuss. And your handwriting…It just makes sense."

"Hermione!" Ron yelled. "How could you think that I would want to sabotage your happiness?"

"You had no problem with it before," she snapped back.

"That's because it was too weird to comprehend."

"And how do I know it still isn't? How can I be so sure this note isn't from you?" She snatched the note from George, holding it up. By now, they were both standing on opposite sides of the room.

"Hermione! You are my best friend why would I hurt you?!" Ron demanded, anger boiling inside him.

"How the hell am I supposed to know?!"

"I can't believe you're accusing me of this!" he yelled. He was at maximum lung capacity now.

"Why, Ron? Why?!" Everyone's heads were following the heated argument, bouncing back and forth between Hermione and Ron.

"I didn't do anything you Mu-" Ron cut himself off, the color draining from his face. Hermione was breathing heavily from yelling, tears were streaming down her face now.

"I need space," Hermione choked out. Turning on her heel, she ran out of the common room. Ginny made to go after her, being caught by Fred on the arm.

"Let her go, Gin," he whispered.

"Happy with yourself?" Harry asked, looking at Ron.

"Yeah, real happy," Ron mumbled sarcastically. He turned around and jogged upstairs to the dormitories.

"We'll go," Fred and George volunteered, hiking up the stairs after their brother. Harry got up and plopped next to Ginny on the couch. She held her face in her hands.

"Why am I related to a git?" she grumbled. Harry chuckled softly.

"He's my best friend. I feel the same way you do."

"Yeah…But you're adopted into our family…blood makes it worse." Harry grinned slightly, wrapping his arm around Ginny and bringing her close to him. Leaning back into the couch, her head was resting on his shoulder. His right arm went around her shoulders as he played with her hair.

"What are you doing?" she asked bluntly. She felt color slowly flood her cheeks.

"It seemed like you need a hug," he replied.

"This is a hell of a hug," she commented. "Do you even know the definition of hug?" Harry rolled his eyes, bringing his other arm around and giving her a squeeze.

"Better?" he asked. She tilted her head to look at him.

"Yes, thanks!" she piped. Harry sighed.

"What do you think of the letter?" he asked.

"I don't know. Ron had a motive. But what if it was Malfoy?"

"He's dating Hermione, why would he-"

"Lucius," she clarified. Harry blinked, thinking of Ginny's proposition.

"That's a possibility too. But how could he know?" The two lied on the couch for a few minutes in silence.

"Do you think he did it?" she whispered.

"I…I…don't know. I don't think he would but…we all know how he can get," Harry answered. He glanced up the stairs that led to the dorms. "I better go check on him." Harry and Ginny sat up, while Harry brought his right arm to the side of his body.

"Send him down when you're done," she replied. Harry nodded.

"Night," he said. He gave her a kiss on the cheek before taking off upstairs.

A/N: First off, I'm sorry if you aren't a GW/HP shipper. I didn't even know I was going to do that scene till I made Fred and George leave. Their relationship (if they even get one in this fic, I'm not sure yet) won't really be mentioned except for scenes like this. Second: Who are the mysterious man and woman?! I'd love to hear guesses!

Third: Thanks to nadia the demented one, red roses at twilight, and Sonata's Moonlight for submitting great guesses!! 