Matchmaker, Matchmaker

Summary: What happens when Fred and George tire of Ron and Hermione's ceaseless bickering and decide to do something about it? And what happens when Harry and Ginny get dragged into their "master plan?"

A/n: Hey guys. Just thought I'd give you a quick word before you start reading. Some of you may have read another story I had...cough...ATTEMPTED to post on this site, called Always There. I got completley stuck on that one and couldn't finish it, for some reason. I got to thinking and I was able to write THIS one. It's COMPLETLEY finished, and it's essentially the same story as the first. If I left anybody hanging on Always There ,I apologize, and I hope this story can make it up to you! So, after this rather long winded author's note, I'll sign off for the time being and just let you read the story already! Read and review, please!

Disclaimer: I. Do. Not. Own. Harry. Potter. Blast, foiled again.

Chapter One: Great Minds Think Alike

Fred Weasley was sitting curled up in an armchair, staring pensively into the fire. His identical twin, George, was cross-legged on the floor next to him, absorbed in his Potion's essay.

"You know what, George?" Fred said abruptly, glancing up from the fire.

"Yes?" George responded, not even bothering to glance up from his homework.

"I'm bored," Fred said, a hint of a whine in his voice. George, at last, looked up, his eyes laughing.

"Well now, that doesn't happen very often!" he said, setting down his essay. "What shall we do?"

"That's the trouble, mate," Fred moaned. "I've no idea." The twins sat in silence for a moment, but it was broken by loud, angry voices.

"Ronald Weasley! You come back here! Come back here right this moment!" Hermione Granger yelled angrily, trailing behind a tall, red haired boy.

"Come back for what, Hermione?" Ron roared, spinning round. "So that you can insult me again? I don't think so!"

"I didn't mean it the way it came out Ron," Hermione pleaded. "I didn't say you were stupid, I just said you didn't pay attention in Potions! If you can't"-

"Oh, you're so full of it!" Ron spat. Hermione placed her hands on her hips, and glared up at Ron. The effect, though intended to be menacing, came off quite funny. Ron, at 6'3, was a foot taller than Hermione.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" she inquired haughtily.

"You! Merlin, you go around, acting like a know-it-all, every single waking moment of every single day! I…I can't stand you!" Hermione's face crumbled.

"I—is that really true?" she said, her voice trembling. "You can't stand me?"

"Yes," Ron replied stoutly. "It's true."

"Fine," Hermione said, tears streaming down her face now. "Fine." And with that, she turned and fled, going up to the girls' dormitories. Ron stared after her, and for a moment, a look of intense sadness and self-hatred flashed across his freckled features, but just as quickly, it was gone. He stomped over to a couch and sat down—hard—muttering to himself, and staring angrily at his feet.

It was probably about the twentieth argument they'd had that day, but it was definitely the biggest one. Ron and Hermione had been at each other's throats lately—and even though this was nothing new, it seemed it was more-so than ever. The two had always argued a bit, but in the past few months, it had become almost unbearable. Silently, the two brothers watched as Ron pulled out his Potion's materials, stared at them blankly, then shoved them away, putting his face in his hands. One of his best mates, Harry Potter was happening by at the time, and stopped. The twins caught a bit of the conversation, even from their distance.

"…Hermione again?" Harry was saying, glancing at Ron in concern.

"Why is it," Ron said, looking up, his ears red with what could have been embarrassment, "that when I'm upset you always think it has something to do with Hermione?"

"Because," Harry said coolly, folding his arms across his chest, "it always does." Ron snorted, then groaned.

"I don't know why, mate, but whenever I'm around her…I always make a prat of myself," he said, running a hand through his already rumpled red locks.

"You really don't know why?" Harry asked, rolling his eyes. "Come on now. You're not that thick."

"Of course he is," somebody said, coming up from behind the two friends. Fred and George exchanged knowing glances. Ginny, of course, would be involving herself in Ron's business. And if Harry was around, she was even MORE likely to poke her nose where it didn't necessarily belong.

"And what do you know about it?" Ron spat. Ginny rolled her eyes, flipping her brilliant red hair over her shoulder.

"Because, dear brother, you can't see what's standing right under your overly-large nose," she informed him. Ron glared daggers at her.

"And what the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

"You think on that," Ginny told him, sauntering off. "I'm off to bed. 'Night."

"She has a point," Harry said, staring after her. Ron glanced from Harry, to Ginny, then threw up his hands.

"I give up!" he cried. "I can't bloody take this! I'm going to bed, Harry." And with that, he stormed off towards the boys' dormitories. Harry sighed, shrugged, and then he himself began to walk off towards his bed. From across the room, the twins heaved two simultaneous sighs.

"This is getting bloody annoying," George said to his twin. "Our brother's a right prat, isn't he?" Fred sighed.

"Of course he's a prat," he responded wearily. "Ron's always sticking his foot in his mouth when it comes to Hermione. It's obvious she's in love with him. And it's obvious he's in love with her. Why can't he see that?"

"Maybe he can. Maybe it scares the bloody hell out of him," George observed. "That would explain a lot." He rubbed his ginger hair exhaustedly. "Either way, I'm getting sick of all these arguments."

"Something has to be done," Fred agreed. "But what?" The twins eyes met, and then something happened. Something neither of them could explain. It was as though a psychological wire was switched on. The twins were sharing the same thought instantaneously.

"That's brilliant!" George breathed.

"Of course! That's it! But where can we"—

"—do it? Maybe in the"—

"—Room of Requirement? That would"—

"—be perfect! Of course we'll"—

"—have to charm it so that they can't"—

"—get out! That Hermione's rather"—

"—good with a wand. But how do we"—

"—get them down there?"

"Best leave that up"—

"—to Ginny and Harry."

"Right!"

"Of course!"

"Genius!"

The twins stared happily at each other for a moment. "When shall we do it?" George voiced quietly.

"As soon as possible," Fred said thoughtfully. "Tonight. At around midnight."

"Excellent."

"Perfect!"

"You do know what they so, don't you, Forge?" George said, smiling slyly at his twin.

"What do they say, dear brother?"

"Great minds think alike."