I'm not the prettiest girl I know. Katie's probably got that title. And I'll openly admit that I've got my flaws. But, everyone does, right? That's what makes us all human; our imperfections. And I'll also openly admit that I'm not a girly-girl, and that I'm into sports, and duelling, and I've landed myself a fair few detentions, and that there are people in this world that I wish I was more like. But then again, if I was the complete opposite of the things I mentioned above, would I still be... Well, me? I mean, if I squeeled and flinched at the sight of mud, and I got so depressed over a breakup that I resorted to eating my own weight and then some in ice cream, and I was a mega-genius, and I thought I was the definition of perfection, would I still be Alicia Spinnet on the inside? Or would I be... Someone else?

At a first glance, these things seem quite obvious, don't they? I mean, no I wouldn't be me, because what I am right now is what I am. I wouldn't be me, because I wouldn't have been best friends with the Weasley Twins for goodness knows how many years. And I wouldn't "hate" Oliver's guys for making us practise at half past six in the morning, and I probably wouldn't daydream so often about Georg- uh, stuff. *awkward cough* Well, this is sufficiently awkward, isn't it? And I know what you're thinking, by the way. I was not just about to say George, then. No, that would be utterly stupid and a half. I have absolutely no idea where that little idea came from. If I'm a hundred percent honest, that was an accident. I don't fancy George Weasley. No. And yes, you're probably thinking "She so fancies him", but I don't, and if you belive this, you're wrong. I don't fancy George. Not one bit.

Well, I wouldn't say "fancy" per say. It's quite a weird word, really. I mean, you fancy another slice of cake, or you fancy getting into those fuzzy pyjamas early just so you can sit around in them. But fancying a person? No, it seems weird. Because to fancy something means to want it, or want to do it, and wanting a person makes you seem depsperate, doesn't it?

In conclusion, no. I don't fancy George. See, I've been saying the word fancy so much that it no longer sounds like a word. Congratulations. If you hoenstly think that I'm into him, a better way to express that would be "crushing on" or "like him in that way". No, no, no. None of these seem right... What do they call it when your heart skips a beat when you see their smile, or you spend your Friday night watching them from across the common room instead of doing homework, or when you write them a letter every day for two months during the summers? Or feeling totally giddy when he compliments you when you've done something particularly well at Quidditch practise? Or... or... or when you actually put on a DRESS on Valentines day (Or International Singles Day, or ISD as I call it) in the hope he notices you, and when he does, and says that you look nice, that you spend the rest of the day on Cloud Nine? You can answer that if you like. It's an open question...