"So, let me get this straight. You guys have been spying on Charlie for the past couple of days and have followed him to wherever it is he's been going at night. Seeing that he has been going to the Lovegood's house, you automatically assume that he is in a relationship with Luna and then confirm this suspicion by reading his letters, which, by the way, is illegal if they're unopened. With the knowledge that your brother is indeed seeing my friend, Luna Lovegood, you decide to have a chat with Charlie and lock him into the house which quite obviously didn't work seeing as you were tied up, wandless, and Charlie's shoes are missing." Ginny gestured to the shoe rack then looked at her brothers with a delicate eyebrow raised.

"Yes, that story is indeed correct."

"Do you have a point you were working up to?" The twins looked at her innocently and Ginny growled, standing up to walk over to the window. She gazed out of it, absently stroking Skitchel's back. Fred and George peered at her anxiously, both jumping as she turned back to them and her eyes flashed due to both the moonlight and the, still faint, light in the kitchen.

"You guys are both idiots," Ginny concluded, the familiar 'dare-to-argue-and-I'll-hex-you-into-next-week' look prominent on her pale face. It was very obvious she was her mother's daughter. Thankfully the kitchen door opened before either of the twins could say anything that would make her hex them.

"Ginny, what are you doing down here?" Charlie asked, pulling off his shoes and his jacket. He eyed the twins shrewdly, taking in the obvious lack of rope. His hand went into his pocket and he slowly handed two wands back to the respective owners. Ginny turned to him, scrutinising him warily, her hands obviously out of her pockets, standing in a neutral position which was neither threatening nor defensive. Charlie stood in a similar way.

"I came down to get a drink and found these two morons down here, tied up by an old and very painful-looking rope."

"It wasn't just pain-looking," the twins interrupted, receiving glares from both their siblings in exchange for their troubles.

"And they surely told you their side of why they were tied up," Charlie said grimly, his jaw set as he scowled at Fred and George who held up their hands in identical defence.

"They did, once I'd vanished the ropes which would have kept them occupied all night, due to you taking their wands. Despite them telling the story in a light which was supposed to make them sound good, I'm still siding with you Charlie. You have a right to date whoever you like and it's not like you can control your heart when it comes to these things. These two are just jealous because they've never had proper girlfriends."

"Thanks Gin, I knew you'd be supportive," Charlie said, giving his sister a rough hug and smiling at her thankfully. "Sorry we didn't tell you."

"It's alright. Now, I'll leave you to deal with the twats, I need to sleep." Ginny waggled her fingers at them and disappeared upstairs.

"Now Charlie, don't do anything rash..." Fred said, swallowing nervously in tandem with George.

"Remember, we are your brothers..."

"And we've thought about our actions..."

"And realised how terrible they were..."

"Basically, we're sorry."

"I don't believe you for a second but at least you pretended to apologise. Now, I'm going to follow our wise sister's example and go to bed." Charlie sighed, shook his head at them with a frown and trooped up the narrow staircase, quietly so as not to wake anyone.

Fred and George sat, speechless for once. Over by the window Skitchel pulled his head from beneath his wing and hooted balefully at them, seemingly annoyed at them for being silent. Either that or he was a very smart owl and understood what was going on. The owl stretched his wings, showing off beautiful caramel coloured feathers on the underside of his dark chocolate wings and he hooted softly again before turning and flying gracefully out the window into the very slowly brightening morning. From what they could see, the sky was cloudy and overcast and even as they watched, small white flakes began to fall.

"You know George, if we were Divination nerds I would say this is a prophecy of what is to come," Fred commented thoughtfully from his perch by the kettle.

"Fred, normally I would agree with you. But I don't have a clue what you mean so I'll stay quiet. You were always the better one with future-telling and that kinda crap."

"I mean, it looks like we're in for a storm with this whole conflict. Especially now that Charlie has Ginny on his side. I'm betting Mum and Dad will side with Charlie too, Percy won't side with anyone because he doesn't care about his family, Bill will side with Charlie because they were always the closest and I have no idea about Ron. Basically we're outnumbered and it isn't looking good for us."

"True that but Ron never really has liked Loony that much, there's a possibility he might, especially now he's with a certain Miss Brown. I've heard things about her dislike for the Lovegoods, says they're freaks. And if all else fails we could bribe him with some of our best products..."

"Or blackmail him with some of our worst. I do like the way you think Gred."

"Back at you Forge, but right now the only thing on my mind is sleep."

"Agreeing there."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Some 170 miles away, Dean Thomas awoke with a start in his London home. He rubbed his eyes blearily and looked around, wondering what had caused him to wake at such an early hour. His room was just as it had been before he had fallen asleep, in a state of disarray with clothes and school things everywhere. West Ham posters dotted the walls, stationary as they had ever been. The only thing to give away that Dean Thomas was not a normal boy was the cauldron in the corner, the odd names of his schoolbooks and the slender rod of polished wood on his bedside table. The smooth oak of the wand glittered slightly as Dean turned on his beside lamp and frowned as he examined his room once again. Suddenly his confused expression cleared and he climbed out of bed, careful not to step on anything on his way over to the window.

A handsome eagle owl was perched on the window sill of his room, in the London suburbs which were still busy at the time of night. Wincing, Dean quickly opened the window and allowed the owl to hop inside before, hopefully, anyone saw. The handsome owl regarded him imperiously and preened itself, seeming not to like being in the same room as a boy who was anything but pureblood.

"Guess pets are like their owners," Dean muttered, edging tentatively closer to the owl, eyeing his sharp beak. "What's your master want today, eh Caesar?" The owl stuck out its scaly leg and Dean automatically untied the scroll that was wrapped tightly with green ribbon. Once happy that Dean had the scroll in his possession, Caesar nipped his finger hard and flew off through the open window.

"Ouch," Dean hissed, examining his finger and swiftly setting the scroll down before he got blood on it. "Bugger," he cursed, stomping out of the door and into the bathroom so he could run his finger under the tap. One plaster later and he was back in his room.

The bedsprings creaked in their usual ear-wrenching way as Dean sat down, folding his long legs beneath him. His dark fingers reached for his wand and he ran it along the seam of the letter, putting it down beside him absently as he scanned the contents of the now flat scroll. A crease was formed on his head as his eyebrows pushed together and he frowned unhappily.

Hey Thomas,

Ha, funny. I can call you by your second name and it still sounds like I could be calling you by your first name. Never noticed that before, I might have to make use of that more often. That could be hilarious, imagine how confused people would get. Especially that dear little girlfriend of yours.

Speaking of, how is the red-head? I hope she's satisfying you, Thomas. Then again, if she isn't I'm happy to take her off your hands. But then, we both know I'll do that anyway if you don't do as I say.

I hope you've been working hard because I need to get this over and done with sooner rather than later. Read carefully, these next few sentences are a matter of life or death for me and a matter of you being single or not in your case.

Now, I've been writing to you for what, two months now? Telling you all the ways I could blackmail you into doing things, and obviously the one which really hit home was the threat of me taking the charming Ginny Weasley away from you. Not that Potter couldn't do that single-handedly if he wanted to but that's not the point.

The point of this letter is to tell you just why I have been telling you ways I could make your life hell for no apparent reason. See, I always have reasons for my actions. The thing is, I need your help Thomas. Don't you dare tell anyone or I will make your life into the hell I described for you a week ago.

I've been watching you and something occurred to me, something I've had difficulty coming to terms with but we all have to face our problems. You're actually pretty good at casting spells and I need a good caster who won't ask any questions or make any trouble. I picked you because you're an easy blackmail target.

You'll agree, I know you will, but I want a written answer anyway. Then I'll send my actual instructions.

Remember, Thomas, I can turn your life into a living nightmare.

The letter was unsigned but Dean knew who it was from, having been receiving letters from the same person a couple of weeks into the start of term. With a groan he threw himself backwards on his bed, the letter flying from his hand to rest on the floor as he fell asleep with images of eagle owls, letters and his girlfriend floating around his head.