I turned around as fast as my neck would let me, with out getting whiplash.
"Ron?" Hermione asked, trembling. She was holding a letter.
"Who was it? Did you see it?"
"No. But, whoever, or whatever it was left a note." She looked at it. "Should I open it? R-remember how you said they make books that burn people's eyes and stuff."
"I'll open it, then." I said. Hermione wasn't giving me the letter anytime soon. "Fine, we'll open it together. Not to be pestimestic, but, at least if it IS one of those letters, we'll die, or be blinded, together." Hermione laughed.
We ripped open the parchment. I began to close my eyes, ("Oh, 'Mione, it was just a joke!"). And there it was. In big red letters:
'Muggle, you think you're real smart, don't you? It's either Weasley or you. He's your 'boyfriend', maybe he'll take responsibility. I doubt it. He's so poor that he probably couldn't afford to buy you DEAD, ROTTING roses. You should belong to me. Not that trash. If you don't chose me, you deserve to rot in Hell with that Muggle Lover. Oh, yes, I understand the twisted irony there.'
"It's that jerk Malfoy! You know it is!" Ron yelled furiously.
"Ron! We don't know that!"
"Yeah, well he's so stupid enough to do it! And he did ask you to the Yule Ball, didn't he?"
"Well," replied Hermione slowly. Now that she thought about it. "You have got a good point." She looked confused.
A/N- OOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! Aren't I special?!