THE AUTHOR SPEAKS: okaay...This story is my first fanfic that might actually be longer than one mini-chapter. It's random fluff. Rather awful writing. Deal with it. Also, I am not revealing the pairing until the end because I like being evil.

btw, all characters etc. belong to J.K. Rowling. Blah blah blah. I just make them really OOC.

Chapter Two

Hermione shouldered her bookbag and glanced nervously at the castle, the wind whipping her tangled brown hair into her face. Should have plaited it this morning, she thought with a grimace. The wind will do terrible things to it. She suddenly realized the words that had just formed in her mind. Since when did she worry about what state her hair was in? It's not as if you can do anything with that mess except pour cauldrons of Sleekeasy's on it, she thought angrily as she neared the greenhouses. And whose fault is that? No one's. Blame your mother for having curly hair. You never brush it anyway.

Parvati was waiting for her behind Greenhouse Two. "Well, look who showed up! Are you ready to start a little detective work?" She smirked.

"Oh, wipe that silly smile off your face, Parvati," Hermione snapped. "I'm only doing this because you'll blab otherwise. Curiosity killed the cat." She muttered this last under her breath.

"Somebody's grumpy. What's wrong with you, Hermione? Don't you care who wrote you a love-letter?"

"It wasn't a love-letter. It was a note. And I'm not grumpy. I'm…just…" Hermione trailed off, looking at the empty grey sky. Sad, she thought. Because even though I'm a perfectly intelligent, rational girl, I have this irrational need. Because sometimes I just want to be a giggling teenager with my girlfriends. Because sometimes I wish my best friends weren't boys who don't know a thing about makeup and crushes and what to do with bushy hair.

"No, really. You look depressed." Parvati said quietly.

"Hah. You're pretty observant." Hermione sank down to the ground. "I don't really know. It's just…I'm leaving Hogwarts in a few months, and I want to be a schoolgirl longer. Or something. Or maybe…I feel like I missed something, these seven years. I feel like there was a whole part of the instructions that no one gave me. About how to be a silly girly girl and stuff."

"Sometimes I feel like that too." Parvati sat beside her. She was a sentimental girl and though mischievous, could turn compassionate in a minute. "Like I forgot the whole part about how we're supposed to learning something. Schoolwork and all that. I was only ever good at Divination, really. And flirting with boys. Still am. Which reminds me…" She stood up and stretched. "Enough chatting. We have a secret admirer to search for." She reached down and held out a hand to Hermione, who still sat dazedly on the hard, damp ground. "You with me? Because I still have blackmail material." She grinned as Hermione clasped her hand and pulled herself to her feet. "C'mon."

That evening the fire in the deserted common room cast licking shadows on the walls as two girls entered stealthily through the portrait hole. The clock chimed eleven o'clock. Hermione collapsed into an armchair as Parvati perched on its arm, unfolding a piece of parchment—the note.

Hermione sighed. "We still have no clue after hours of asking around. Even people from other houses. And you don't need to look at the note; there isn't anything else on it. I looked."

However, Parvati was still engrossed in the scrap of paper. She squinted at the words written there as if some hidden clue would magically reveal itself if she looked at it hard enough.

"What about the handwriting? Have we looked at the handwriting yet?" Hermione mentioned, a little disturbed by Parvati's fervor.

"I don't know any boys who write this tidily. Maybe they got someone to write it for them." She never took her eyes from the little Valentine.

"Why are we even bothering?!" Hermione wailed, exasperated. "We're never going to find out. I bet whoever wrote it's laughing at us right now. It was probably a joke from the beginning!"

Parvati snapped, "Don't say that! It's not a joke." She looked fiercely at Hermione. "Don't give up. We are going to find whoever wrote this if it takes the rest of our lives."

"You're crazy." Hermione stared at the other girl. "Parvati? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Now let's go to bed. I'm too tired to think straight."

"I'll say," Hermione murmured as she followed Parvati up the spiral staircase to the dormitory that seemed the best place on earth to two tired seventeen-year-old girls.

To be continued…!