"SUMMER! GET UP! NOW!"

Why, isn't my twin sister charming? I burrow my head into the fluffy, heavenly pillow even more. Ahhhhh. Screw lessons—who needed lessons when you have a pillow? Oh, and sleep.

"IT'S BLOODY HALF PAST SEVEN!"

Wait, what?

Holy shit.

I immediately bolt up and run as fast as humanly possible to the bathroom, almost knocking Dom onto the floor and falling flat on my face after tripping over a hairbrush.

I know, I'm SO graceful. Really.

BUT OH MY GOD IT'S SEVEN THIRTY-SOMETHING AND WE HAVE TRANSFIGURATION AT EIGHT O'CLOCK MCGONAGALL IS GOING TO KILL.

Okay, back up.

I'm Summer Costella, I'm fifteen, I'm a fifth year at Hogwarts, Skye is my twin sister, I'm a Gryffie, I suck at Quidditch and my friends think I fancy James Potter II.

(I don't. I swear. I really, really, don't like that prat.)

But I've also known him for the past seven years of my life (along with the rest of the Wotters) and he's funny and charming and attractive enough, I guess.

(Fine. I like him. Tell anyone and I will castrate you. I don't care if you're female.)

Did I mention we're also kind of best mates?

Honestly though. I have no idea what we really are… like we've hung out for the past seven years or so and I've spent my summer holidays at his cousin's house… then my feelings decided to like James maybe a little more than friends BUT HE ACTUALLY HAS NO IDEA.

Mainly because I hide my feelings well enough and he treats me like a sister. Ugh.

Only Skye, Dom and Caitlin know about this though. My little crush, I mean. It's not like I told them or anything, but they know me too well.

Ah yes, Dom. As in Dominique Weasley. Don't call her Dominique or she'll come at you with a knife. She's part-veela so needless to say, she's quite popular with boys.

Caitlin is the smartest one of the bunch. She's a prefect and a perfectionist. Her Ravenclaw boyfriend is literally the male version of her.

But anyway.

Enough of my rambling.

I'M GOING TO BE LATE FOR TRANSFIGURATION AND I DON'T HAVE TOAST OR BUTTER OR BACON OR FOOD IN GENERAL AND FOR SOME REASON I STILL HAVEN'T SHOWERED.

Damn, why won't this door open?!

…Oh right. Caitlin's hogging the bathroom.

Fuck my life.

We manage to get into the classroom before McGonagall loses it and goes psycho on us. Thank Merlin.

"Sorry we're late, Professor." Caitlin pants as she snags a seat in the second row. The rest of us follow suit, muttering apologies as we seat down next to Caitlin.

"So, you guys slept in again?" James asks curiously behind me.

"No, we were baking a cake at eight a.m," Dom snaps, "What do you think, James?"

"Merlin, I was just asking! There's no need to be sassy, Dominique."

"Fuck you. And don't call me Dominique again or I'll hex you later."

"Fine, fine, I'm shutting up now."

I was copying my notes (what? I'm going to land in detention when McGonagall sees I'm not really paying attention) when someone randomly tugged on my ponytail.

Really, James? Playing with my hair?

I whirl around and he grins amusedly at me. Sigh. He's hot when he does that.

Oi, snap out of it, girl.

I was about to open my mouth and retort, but of course I forget Merlin hates me and wishes to humiliate me in whatever way possible.

"Miss Summer Costella, if you wish to converse with Mister James Potter, kindly do it outside my lesson."

And she just HAD to say it right in front of James' many fangirls.

I swear my face is in a violent shade of tomato right now. Very attractive, don't you think?

Caitlin is smirking at me. I glare daggers at her.

James can't stop laughing. He high-fives Fred Weasley under the desk, who winks at me before turning his attention back on Skye.

Oh yeah, did I mention? Freddie boy here likes Skye. A lot. Ever since she poured pumpkin juice on his head in first year. Yeah, Fred's sort of a freak.

And you might say, oh, then how can they tell you apart? Here's the thing: Skye has a pink streak in her hair. Other than that, we are completely alike, with the same untamable blonde mess on top of our head we call hair and blue-grey eyes.

While you think having a twin is absolute wonderfulness and all that jazz, it's really not.

Especially when you have a twin who's perfect. She's funny and feisty and popular and a daredevil, she's the Gryffindor chaser, she gets E's and O's on her essays without even trying, and she has one male Weasley chasing after her like a lost puppy. What more do you need, honestly?

And next to her, I'm just her boring twin, the one who likes rocky road ice cream and blue nail polish, who sucks at all kinds of sport and has two left feet.

It's not that she thinks she's better than me, that's not the case at all. She's my best friend and she always will be. It's just that sometimes I just feel overshadowed by her, that's all.

Anyway, it's almost Christmas, and I can't ruin that by wallowing in self-pity. Skye and I are staying over at Dom's again. Caitlin usually comes along but this time she's spending Christmas with her parents. Meanwhile, my parents are off enjoying France, so it's a win-win situation for everyone. I get to spend the holidays with the Wotters (I'm staying at Dom's, remember?) and mum and dad have some time of their own. And by staying at Dom's, I'm going to be seeing a LOT of James this Christmas (insert: excited girly squeal). They are the Potter/Weasley clan, after all.

Which reminds me… Dom and I have to formulate a plan to get Freddie and Skye together this Christmas. I know Skye likes him…er, deep down.

Huh.

Merlin, if looks could kill, Fred would be dead by now.

I guess that's what he gets for chucking rolled up parchment at the back of Skye's head.

I don't understand him, I really don't. He's wasting parchment! I mean, does this bloke actually enjoy seeing Skye's eyes spit fire at his?

Oh wait, he probably does.

What a weirdo.

But this is Fred Weasley the second we're talking about, so it's really no surprise.