-- Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, unfortunately. If I did, I'd be rich and doing something a lot more interesting than sitting at my computer at 1:30 in the morning.

-- Author's Note: This will be a very long-running story based from the play written by William Shakespeare (Much Ado About Nothing), more-so the theatrical version directed by (and starring) Kenneth Branagh. Much Ado About Nothing was one of the few romantic comedies Shakespeare ever wrote (with, of course, a twist of drama and angst), so I'm hoping that a fic based on it will go over well! Thank to Josh, Jude (and her caged Defiant!Draco), and all the rabid plot bunnies running around this place.

"I'm beginning to suspect that they're plotting against us, Ron," Hermione whispered across the table situated in a corner of the Gryffindor common room, eyes shifting towards the other side of the room after she spoke, indicating she was speaking of someone in the general direction.

Ron, who was less than graceful, tactful, and just about anything which helped to assemble someone subtle, turned directly around to look in the direction Hermione motioned to.

"No, don't look now -- " she attempted to halt him, but it was too late. Across the room, Harry (who had left the table several minutes before) was speaking in hushed whispers to Ginny, Parvati, Lavender, Dean, Seamus, and several of the younger students Hermione didn't want to even begin to place. At intervals, Harry would motion to the table at which Ron and Hermione were doing their Potions work for the next brewing day ... and, annoyingly, Ginny would giggle.

"What gives?" Ron inquired, turning back to his only just begun work, his attention drifting towards Hermione's paper as her gaze was fixed on the happenings of across the room. Hurriedly, he copied down the list of ingredients from her parchment, immediately going back to looking dumbstruck with confusion when her attention refocused to the table they were sharing.

Hermione, noticing that suddenly Ron had finished a good deal of work than he had completed before she looked away, sighed and rolled her eyes. "Ronald Weasley, I've been telling you for the past six years -- and I'll tell you again now -- that copying homework will get you nowhere! What, pray tell, will you ever do if I purposefully left a fake list of potion ingredients out for you to copy? Someday, your cauldron will blow up in your face and you might learn your lesson!"

"Like I would copy from you!" he yelled across the table defensively, although he was defending a lie. "You always assume the worst, you know. It's always me copying, not me working hard enough to get something done on time. Thanks, Hermione, I'm glad you have confidence in me!"

Hermione let out a lengthy sigh of frustration and snapped her textbook for Potions closed loudly. "Honestly, Ron, when are you going to grow up? Anyone with half a working brain could see you copied the list of ingredients from mine -- they're in the same order and you misspelled the same word I was just looking up!" Having caught him in nothing less than a nasty, argument-spurring lie, she had little choice but to pick up her various books, quills, rolls of parchment, and inkwells and move up swiftly to the girl's dormitory.


"See, this is what I'm talking about," Harry said quite distinctly, though not with the intention of being overheard by either of the two in question. "Something needs to be done. They've been driving me crazy like this for years."

Ginny glanced towards her elder brother, Ron, who had began to sulk at the table once Hermione left. Though, she could not exactly tell if he was sulking over her exit from the common room or the fact that he had been caught red-handed copying homework and now every Gryffindor within earshot knew. Turning a face contorted partially in concern and partially in humor, she inquired to Harry, "Well, what're we supposed to do, lock them in a closet and let them kill each-other? That seems to be where they're headed anyway."

"I think both of them are missing the point, Gin'. They're crazy about each other and I won't stand for their insanity driving me insane anymore!" The last part turned some heads of Gryffindors not included in the conversation, causing Harry to shrink back into his seat a tad. "We just need to figure out a way to make them realize it. And soon. If I have to hear Ron bitching over Hermione one more time -- "

" -- I second that!" Dean announced, "I didn't get any sleep the other night after they were arguing about, what was it? A belt?"

" ... Socks," Seamus corrected miserably. "If you think they'd stop arguing when they're together, I'm all for it. Less arguing means less bitching which means more sleep for his roommates."

Parvati Patil, who had been quite silent throughout the entire conversation, suddenly looked rather gleeful about something, a mischievous glint sparkling vividly within her dark eyes. "I went to see a play over the summer holiday with my sister -- "

"You went to a play?" Lavender inquired softly, though not without a tinge of typical girlish curiosity which caused her to further ask, "What did you wear?"

Parvati, vaguely annoyed by the interruption, shook her head. "Nevermind that. Anyway, this was a Shakespearean play. The man and the woman hate each other, right? Well, their friends conspire to make them fall in love by tricking them each into believing the other loves them -- so they both end up falling in love with the other, thinking that the other had fallen in love with them first. Follow me?"

The males of the group merely stared in confusion, while Ginny, Lavender, and a select few others of the female sex grinned broadly. "Look," Parvati snapped at the boys, "You go somewhere where Ron's likely to show up and when he walks by, start talking loudly about how Hermione confessed her love for him, but begged you not to tell him, because she's too afraid of his reaction."

Harry, Seamus, and Dead nodded in unison, then gave each-other looks as the wheels in each of their heads began to turn.

"Then, we'll go to some place where Hermione's likely to show up and start talking about how we overhead Ron professing his love of her to Harry, but claimed he could never tell her, fearing she'd reject him due to his past behavior," Parvati continued, rubbing her hands together as a broad grin curved her lips. "After that, we just have to wait. Understand?"

There were several nods of agreement from the group, before all sets of eyes turned towards the stairs leading up to the girl's dormitories then over to the table at which Ron was sitting. In a most uncanny way, all the faces of those conspiring in the 'plot' against the two aforementioned brightened with grins of pure mischief and delight.