Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Pandora's Letter Box

Wednesday morning in Quirrell's class, sandwiched between Fred and George, I saw a sight that had me bursting with laughter; similar to a paper mâché volcano eruption. Stimpson had gotten my letter. I could tell because the dish-water blonde was now sporting tomato sauce-colored hair. Like real red-colored hair. Not the natural ginger color everyone in my family has. But like red as a primary color red. Think Clifford the big red dog red. Whatever charm or potion Stimpson used to change her hair color, I don't think she did it right. My sudden unexpected laughter was drawing attention from our classmates. Fred and George half-turned in their seats in my direction. They used their body language to ask what was so funny. To muffle my laughter, I turned towards Fred and buried my face into his shoulder. They'll find out what's so funny after they take a look around the room. Fred, George, and I returned to our normal flow after I sent that letter. Which is just a way to say that it no longer bothered me if they wanted me to ignore Pucey or not because I finally had control of the matter. Not that Fred and George knew that. I hadn't told them about my letter to Stimpson. But they are about to find out.

"Holls," Fred said as he placed an arm over my shoulders. "Want to share with the rest of the class?"

But George found the answer for him. "Merlin! Look at Stimpson's hair".

Since my face was hidden in Fred's shoulder, I didn't get to see their expressions. But Fred's "What tomato puked all over her?" was descriptive enough for me. Following Fred and George's example, the rest of the Gryffindors in the room started to titter and mutter at the ostentatiousness of the Slytherin. Vibrant color palates were something we typically expected from Ravenclaws or quidditch game days. It wasn't something we associated with Slytherin house. Stimpson's house was holding their tongues. As far as I could tell. Probably for solidarity, I suspect. Maybe they were giving her grief about this fashion choice behind closed doors. One can only hope.

With nothing to look at, I was able to reign in my amusement. Composed I picked my head up from Fred's shoulder and turned to study Stimpson some more. Merlin, I was trying to get Stimpson to do something that would grate on Pucey's nerves, but I didn't think she'd actually change her physical appearance. It's bloody brilliant, really. I'm glad to see that that letter was so effective. Stimpson was holding herself well. She seemed confident as she sat at her desk and got ready to take notes. As if she couldn't hear the snickering Gryffindors. In a small instant, I was jealous. I wondered what it felt like to have that much confidence. "Think it was on purpose?" George asked as he looked over at Fred and me. "I know people change their hair colors, but that just looks…" George trailed off.

"Clownish" Fred supplied.

That set me off again. My eyes watered as I bit my lip to keep the laughter on the inside. It was just a shame that Pucey wasn't in Defense class again. Briefly, I wondered why he was skipping, but it was hard to focus. "If Stimpson looks like that, I guess you two are no longer the class clowns". I forced out between waves of choked laughter.

Fred and George focused their eyes on me. "Jolly Holly" George started to say with a certain lightness in his voice. "It sounds like you know something that we don't".

"Something mischievous perhaps," Fred added.

That was my cue to fess up. I cleared my throat. "I may have sent a letter to Miss Stimpson last night. One that cued her in about things that Pucey finds attractive. You know, things like red hair, vibrant make-up...being asked lots of questions about his personal affairs ". I choose not to look at Fred or George as I said all of that, even though I could feel their eyes boring into me. It had been a nauseating letter to write; one where I had to declare to Stimpson that I thought that she was right. That Pucey was a better match for her. That I had found someone more 'my speed', and to let bygones be bygones, I'd tell her everything about how I had managed to win Pucey over.

Staring at the front of the classroom, I tried not to be too pleased by my accomplishment; refusing to look at my brothers or Stimpson to prevent myself from going off on another round of laughter. I'd kill two birds with one stone with that letter. Already, things were feeling slightly better at the upper hand that letter had bought me. Now, it was just Fred and George I needed to get even with.

"Holly Molly Weasley", Fred said in a strange mixture of consternation and pride.

"Not my middle name", I corrected with a small shake of my head. Mum and Dad weren't cruel enough to give their children rhyming names. Besides, Molly was Ginny's middle name. But that never stopped Fred and George from insisting that Molly was my middle name. They said that they liked how it rolled off the tongue. For our entire first year of school, they even had Lee believing that my middle name was Molly.

"That was impish, wily, and ruthless. And you did it without our help". George said, his tone of voice matching Fred's. I couldn't tell if they approved or not. Perhaps a bit of both. I glanced over at George. His lips were pressed together, but his eyes were swimming with mirth. "They grow up so fast, don't they, Gred?"

Instantly, I rolled my eyes and looked back to the front of the room. Not this bit again. "That they do Forge". Fred said. "Why it feels like yesterday that Jolly Holly was learning the fine art of practical jokes".

"And then she started to prank us and our family".

"And now she's branching out to unsuspecting Slytherins", Fred said as both he and George ignored my growing agitation. They make it sound like they are the only ones in our family with a sense of humor.

"Oh, how the time flies," they said together with mock dramatics.

I shake my head once more. "You two make it sound like I'm younger than you". I complained.

"You are," George assured me.

"By ten minutes" Fred went into further detail. These gits, as if a ten-minute difference actually means something. "That's why you have a name that starts with an 'H' instead of a name that starts with an 'F'".

"Technically", I said as Quirrell started to outline today's lesson on the blackboard. "I am twenty-five years older than both of you. Hell, I'm technically older than Bill". And wasn't that a strange viewpoint?

"Nope," Declared George. "You don't get to play the reincarnated card whenever it suits your fancy".

"We are older by ten or so minutes" Fred reiterated. "Which is why you should listen to us when we tell you a bloke is bad news". When pigs fly, I thought.

"And why you are going to include us in this letter prank before it blows up in your face", George added, sounding a little too happy based on the content of his sentence.

I shot my brothers accusatory looks out of the corners of my eyes in turn. "What makes you think it is going to blow up in my face?"

"Because, Jolly Holly" George started, sounding like a parent who was trying to explain the facts of life to a small child.

"You lack foresight," Fred finished. I snorted at the irony. Me, lacking foresight? The girl who knew what was going to happen in the future… relatively speaking.

I didn't get a chance to respond. Just as Quirrell was about to start class, Lee came barging into the classroom with his bookbag haphazardly thrown over his shoulder and a piece of buttered toast between his lips. No one was surprised. After three years, we were all used to Lee's late starts. "You were c-c-cutting it pretty close M-mister J-Jordan" Quirrell stuttered a warning as Lee skirted behind George and me before he dropped down into the seat next to Fred.

"Did I miss anything?" He asked around a mouthful of toast, completely ignoring Quirrell. I can't blame him. When you don't know what is under Quirrell's turban, Quirrell is pretty unremarkable. But we don't have to point anything out to Lee. It only takes him a brief moment before he spotted fire-hydrant Stimpson. "Merlin!" Lee exclaimed in an outside voice. "Look at Stimpson's hair. She looks like a redcap!" At this point, every person in the room was either looking at Stimpson or Lee. Fred, George, and I immediately started to snigger. And a few other Gryffindors soon joined us. I couldn't get the image of Stimpson walking around looking for people to bludgeon so she could add their blood to her hair.

At Lee's loud comment Stimpson adopted a furious expression. I'd be furious too if I was being compared to a magical creature that repulsed beauty. But still, it felt like a relatively fitting comparison for Stimpson. "J-Jordan!" Quirrell scolded. "T-That's five points f-from Gryffindor!"

The second letter recipient was overjoyed by what had been enclosed. So much so that he was beaming like a headlight when he found me at Gryffindor table. "I knew you'd warm up to me", Lee said as he sat across from us triplets. However, he only had eyes on me.

"What are you going on about, mate?" George asked around a mouthful of lamb stew; his spoon halfway between his bowl and his mouth.

As if we were primary school children and this was show and tell, Lee held out a pink envelope decorated with hearts for Fred and George to see. "Why, Holly's love letter of course".

Choking on a bit of food that went down the wrong way, Fred thumped his chest as George stared at Lee with an open mouth; letting the world see his half-chewed food. I took a long sip from my goblet to hide how pleased I was by this outcome. "Was it clear?" I asked; only lowering my goblet when I felt certain that my face wouldn't give anything away.

Leaning over the table, Lee rested his chin in the palm of his hand with his elbow propped up on the table. "Indubitably, my love". Lee said; sounding completely starstruck. I had to give the boy credit. He really knew how to commit.

As George slowly closed his mouth and Fred regained himself, I said, "Big word, I'm impressed". All the while keeping my tone bored sounding.

"I think we're missing something here", Fred commented, looking over my head at George.

George was quick to nod his head in agreement. "Why would Holly send you a love letter?"

Shock factor was the only thing making this whole prank possible. I thought as I watched Lee take open the envelope he was holding and taking out a carefully folded piece of stationary. Something I had stolen from one of my no-named roommates. Lee slowly unfolded the stationary; acting as though it was the deed to his house. He even took things a step further when he took the time to sniff the stationary. I had to hide my face behind my goblet again to hide my opinions on the action because that stationary definitely had not been scented when I had sent it.

"To my dearest and undoubtedly handsome Lee," Lee began to read. It was a challenge to keep my face blank as Fred and George sent me incredulous looks. "I have come to see you in a new light. You are charming, charismatic, cheeky, cheerful, and every positive adjective that starts with the letter C that you can think of". Under the table, I kicked Lee in the shin for taking creative liberties. None of that was on the piece of stationary Lee was holding. Or at least, it wasn't what I wrote. Lee's eyes started to water, but he played it off as being emotionally moved. "My brothers are right. I do have horrid taste in men. I now see my attraction to slimy snakes as proof of that". It's almost like… Lee realized that there was nothing I could do to him for saying all this rubbish. Not unless I was willing to let my plan fall apart. Pity. "And then there you were. As wondrous, glorious, humorous as always. And all the good adjectives that end in -ous that you can think of. I realized that to cure me of my man troubles, I should date you. Since, of course, my brothers would approve of you. So, what do you say? Will you go on a romantic rendezvous with me? Love Holly".

Just as slowly as he had unfolded the letter, Lee carefully returned it to the envelope before looking up and giving us triplets one of the biggest grins we've ever seen. I refrained from shaking my head at the boy. What he had just spouted out wasn't close to what I had originally penned. That letter had been shorter and lacked flowery language altogether. In my letter, all I wrote was; hey, I'm mad at Fred, George, and Pucey for acting like they get to decide my life for me. Do you want to pretend we're dating so I can get back at them?

George's mouth was hanging open again. "This is a joke, right?" Fred asked; turning towards me and trusting that I would confirm his suspicion.

But I merely shrugged and tried not to look annoyed when Lee batted his eyes at me. "You told me I could do better than Pucey. So, I'm trying to do better".

"That's not what we meant!" George exclaimed; gaining a few odd looks from the students sitting further down the row.

At the same time, Fred stated. "You're not dating our best mate". His head swiveled in Lee's direction. "You're not dating our sister". His voice was unwavering. Forceful, even.

Lee placed a hand over his heart and clutched his chest like he was in pain. "Sorry, mate. I never wanted it to come to this. But if I have to choose between you and a cute redhead who's willing to date me, I have to choose the girl". More like any girl who's willing to date him, I thought to myself as I tried not to break at my brothers' horrified faces. "You know what they say about redheads, right? I mean, I know you're all redheads but…. That just means you get it, right? This is a chance I can't afford to miss". That comment seemed to push Fred and George over the edge as they stared at Lee and me like they had just been introduced to strangers. Standing up and reaching over the table, Lee offered me his hand. The only reason I took it was to keep the act going. Merlin, give this boy an inch and he takes a mile. "My love", Lee started before pausing to kiss the top of my hand; lips lingering a bit longer than necessary. "Let's meet tonight in the trophy room. I can't wait any longer".

"Fine", I agreed, before Fred and George could say anything. Slowly, I took back my hand; trying to act like I was feeling gross due to Lee's actions. "But this will be our first date, so it better be special".

Lee bowed; completely ignoring the gobsmacked and slightly put-out looks on his friends' faces. "My Lady, your wish is my command", and Lee swept away; walking away before Fred and George had the opportunity to question him further.

As if none of that had just occurred, I picked up my spoon; ready to dig into my portion of lamb stew. But the feeling of two pairs of eyes boring into me had me pausing. I looked left at Fred before turning my head to look at George. "What?" I asked; pretending they were the weird ones.

"Holly, you can't date Lee", George said, gesturing with his hands for emphasis. "He's Lee".

"You know", Fred kept going. "The person you avoid by hiding behind us when he tries to flirt with you".

"I thought you would be thrilled", I lied. "He's your best mate".

"Exactly!" Fred and George exclaimed in sync; seemingly confused and irritated that I didn't understand where they were coming from.

"Exactly", I agreed. "He's your best mate. So, if I date him, you two can't say I have poor taste in men".

Fred was turning red; the color becoming more and more prominent the longer I argued with him. While George had adopted a queasy-looking color to his complexion. "You're not dating Lee", Fred growled out. With rough and gruff movements, Fred picked up his book bag that was lying by his feet and placed it next to him on the bench. He started to dig through it; all the while keeping his unhappy eyes fixed on me. "We're not going to let you sneak out in the middle of the night with Lee. Especially if you're just going to hurt him to get back at us". He was practically seething. "If you or Lee even try it, we'll know because—" Fred cut himself off when he could find what he was looking for in his bag. "George, do you have the map?" Fred asked in a heated whisper directed over my head.

Eyes wide, George shook his head. "You were the last one to have it".

"You've lost the Marauder's map?" I asked. "Oh, no. That's rotten luck". Fred bristled at the sarcasm in my voice as George frowned at me with wariness. Deciding that it would be better to eat alone in the kitchens tonight, I abandoned my lamb stew and rose to my feet. "I wonder where it could be. Or how you could have lost it".

Once my back was turned and I had started to walk away, I allowed myself to smile a closed-lip smile at my small victory. From behind me, I heard George tell Fred, "Forge, I think we may have created a monster".

I had one more letter to send. This one was short and sweet and wasn't played up by overly enthused conspirators. Having borrowed Ron's owl for this very occasion, I sat on the bed with Pigwidgeon resting on my head, hooting my ear off and watching my every move. With a piece of parchment I had torn off from the bottom of my charms notes, I wrote;

Adrian,

Meet me in the trophy room at midnight. Let's end this spat.

— Holly Weasley