Disclaimer: apologies to J.K. Rowling, Kevin Smith, and all other writers and filmmakers I have shamelessly ripped off.

Dedication:

To Mike and Jenny-
May God bless and keep you…far away from me.

Wasted Years

Percy Weasley was discussing his new appointment to Head Boy with Leonard Prunepocket, his best friend at Hogwarts…one of his only friends at Hogwarts, if the truth be told.

"It's an awesome responsibility," Percy said, "but Dumbledore knows he can count on me. I'll remain loyal to Dumbledore until he leaves Hogwarts, or--"

"Percy," said Leonard, "don't look now, but Eliza Simpersnit seems to be coming this way."

Percy groaned. Eliza Simpersnit had had a crush on him since they were first years. At first he had tried just ignoring her, but after she had sent no less than fifty owls to their house in a 48-hour period one summer his mother informed him that Eliza deserved to know how he really felt about her. So he told her, gently but firmly, that he didn't like her in "that way" and asked her to please leave him alone. But she refused to do so. Even now, after he had been seeing Penelope Clearwater for over a year, Eliza constantly dogged his footsteps, often smiling in a way that reminded Percy of a toothpaste ad.

Now, with the indefatigable Eliza mere footsteps away, Percy became intensely interested in his soup.

"Hi, Percy!" said Eliza perkily. "Lovely day isn't it?" she added, looking up at the enchanted ceiling.

"Very nice," mumbled Percy. "Was there something you wanted?"

"Oh, I just thought I'd come by and say hi. Oh! and to ask you if you wanted to study for the Charms test on Thursday?"

Percy sighed. "Eliza…no. No thank you. I don't want to study with you. I don't want to date you. I'm seeing someone else, and I'm very happy, so please, this has been going on long enough, please just leave me alone!"

Eliza's lip trembled. "Okay, well…I've got to be going anyway, I have…overdue library books!" She ran away, completely in the opposite direction from the library.

"Looks like she might finally be catching on," observed Leonard.

"One can only hope," Percy replied, polishing his badge with his sleeve. "One can only hope."

Fred and George waited by the statue of Selkirk the Cylindrical on the fourth floor. They had received an anonymous note from someone asking to meet them there at 9:00 p.m. I have need of your special talents. Come alone, the note had said.

"Maybe it's someone wanting us to smuggle illegal artifacts into the castle!" Fred speculated.

George put a finger to his lips. "Shh. Here he comes."

In the shadows, a figure approached. "I suppose you're wondering why I called you here today," she said, stepping out of the shadows.

"Oh, for crying out loud, it's just you!" said Fred in disgust.

"Aren't you that nutty chick who's always trying to get with Percy? Eliza Simpersnit?"

"Yes," she said, "and I need your help."

"Forget it," said Fred. "Because of you we had to spend three precious summer days cleaning owl poop off the roof."

"Yeah," said George. "Seems to me you owe us…big time. Bye."

As Fred and George turned to leave, Eliza dropped her dignified façade, fell to the ground, and clutched at their ankles, wailing, "Please! You must help me! I'm desperate!"

"Really? I hadn't noticed," said Fred, trying to disengage her clinging fingers.

"Oof!" said George as he lost his balance and fell against the wall. "It's no use, Fred. We might as well listen to what she's got to say."

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" said Eliza, jumping up and making as if to hug them both.

Fred held up a hand. "You have five minutes."

Eliza nodded. "Well, for nearly seven years I've been trying to get Percy to notice me, pay attention to me, and it's never worked. Now he's dating Penelope Clearwater, and we're about to leave Hogwarts. I must tell him how I feel, in a way he can't ignore."

"Look--" Fred began. He was about to tell her that they had better things to do than to play Cupid for their older brother, and that maybe she ought to accept the fact that he didn't like her and move on. But before he could say any of that, George slapped him lightly on the chest to stop him and looked at him with a significant twinkle in his eye. With that look Fred understood, as clearly as if George had told him, that this was a perfect opportunity to cause a major disruption AND publicly humiliate their dear brother Percy. And Fred replied with a smile of his own.

"…we'd be happy to help," Fred said, grinning.

"What did you have in mind?" asked George.

A week later, Eliza sat in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, nervously playing with her quill and glancing back and forth from Percy to the chalkboard to the door.

She had chosen Defense Against the Dark Arts because Professor Lupin was one of the kindest and most compassionate professors at Hogwarts. She knew he would be understanding.

Suddenly the room went dark. Eliza turned around and saw Snape closing the shutters with his wand. She groaned softly to herself. Lupin must be ill again; Snape was filling in. How could this be happening? Snape would never understand. If only there was some way to contact Fred and George, to call it off, to undo what she had put into motion.

But all she could do now was wait.

Snape walked to the front of the room. "Take out your books," he said, "and turn to Chapter 11." Snape turned around and made to write on the board. Eliza sat chewing on her fingernails; everything seemed to be moving in slow motion for her.

When Snape touched the chalk to the chalkboard, the chalkboard suddenly exploded into a shower of aquamarine sparks which coalesced into words. Sickly sweet words, the kind that can only be conceived and strung together by a heartbroken, lovesick teenager, gleamed on the blackboard for all to see:

Dear Percy,

Please listen to me. I have loved you since our first day at Hogwarts. I know you don't think of me in that way, but please, can't you give me a chance? Just once before we leave Hogwarts? Please, I love you soooooooo much!

Love Always,

Eliza

Snape was shaking visibly and even paler than usual. He stumbled over to an antique Muggle phone mounted on the wall. He picked up the earpiece, turned the crank, and whispered, "Filch. Here. Now." He hung up and turned to face the class, clutching a chair for support. Glaring at Eliza, he growled, "You…stay." He indicated the rest of the class and said, "You…go." Then he collapsed in the chair, his eyes rolling toward the ceiling. Eliza sat as though frozen to the chair, waiting for Filch to arrive.

Minerva McGonagall strode purposefully down the hallway to Filch's office. She rapped her knuckles briskly on the door and, without waiting for an answer, entered.

Eliza was sitting in a chair in a pool of bright white light, openly weeping, while Filch held a flaming cigarette lighter threateningly under a snapshot of Percy. "Tell me the names of your accomplices!" Filch commanded as he brought the flame infinitesimally closer to the snapshot. The tiny, photographic Percy was leaping around the frame, yelping with pain and trying to blow on the soles of his feet.

"Argus!" snapped McGonagall. "That will do."

"But Minerva," Filch protested, "she was just about to crack and tell us who helped her--"

"Argus," said McGonagall, "Miss Simpersnit is in my house, and it is my responsibility to punish her for her transgressions. Come with me, Miss Simpersnit."

Eliza meekly got up out of the chair and followed McGonagall to her office. McGonagall stood behind her desk and leaned toward Eliza. "Miss Simpersnit," she said sternly, "you have caused a major class disruption, embarrassed a fellow student, and frightened Professor Snape so badly that Professor Dumbledore had to take him to the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade to do tequila shots until he calms down. Explain yourself."

Eliza's bottom lip trembled, and then she sobbed out the whole story.

McGonagall sat down at her desk and sighed. "Miss Simpersnit," she said, "I understand how you feel. I know it hurts when you care about someone who doesn't reciprocate. But at least he was honest with you about how he felt. Sometimes we have to resign ourselves to the truth and move on. Making a public spectacle of ourselves never helps matters. It just annoys the people around us."

Eliza blew her nose, "You're right, Professor," she whimpered.

"Of course I am, Miss Simpersnit."