Dear Diary,
I'm so sorry I haven't written in you all summer! I've spent most of it here at Parvati and Padma's house, and that's all there is to tell, really. Besides, I can't let Parvati and Padma see me writing in you because then they both would want to read you. I might possibly let Parvati (I wrote the part where I was rude about her new dress robes last term in invisible ink, because you see I was sorry to say it but they looked simply frightful, I would have said she looked stunning in anything before I saw her in orange, which is simply not her color), but then I suppose I would have to let Padma as well and I have said a number of things about her as you know. So you've been in my trunk all summer for my protection, sorry! Both of them are asleep now, though, and I feel as if you're a friend I've fallen out of touch with so I'm taking the opportunity to write now.
There is less than a week of summer holiday left. There's not much to tell about my summer; it's been rather dull, to tell the truth. The only noteworthy event was getting our O.W.L. results. I got five O.W.L.s, an 'E' in Divination, Transfiguration, Charms, and Herbology, and an 'A' in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Then I got a 'P' in History of Magic and Potions. I hardly care about those--in fact, I'm so glad I never have to take another lesson from Professor Snape, who's just vile as I've often said--I mean, when was the last time he washed his hair? Eurgh--or Professor Binns, who's about as exciting as a pair of last year's shoes. But no doubt I'm a disgrace to the D.A. getting an 'A' in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Parvati got an 'E'. She also got an 'O' in Divination, which I was a bit jealous about. Divination is the one subject I sincerely enjoy, but then, it's only grades. Who honestly cares? Swots who have nothing better to worry about, that's who.
Mr. and Mrs. Patil are rather freaked out by all this business with You-Know-Who and have barely let us go anywhere. Oh, I'm sorry, I don't suppose I've told you the news, have I? Oh dear, I'm sorry to have to tell you, but as it turns out, Harry really was telling the truth. You-Know-Who showed up at the Ministry of Magic a couple of months ago and now there have been all sorts of murders and Death Eater activity. I mean, obviously I'd believed it already, seeing as I was more or less forced to. All I ever said was that Harry was asking rather a lot expecting the whole world to believe that the Triwizard Cup was a Portkey that he and Cedric Diggory touched at the same time and turned up in a graveyard where You-Know-Who just happens to be, never mind the fact that he disappeared off the face of the earth practically forever ago, and You-Know-Who kills Cedric but for some reason keeps Harry alive -- even though no one ever had more reason to be mightily miffed with Harry, or anyone for that matter, than You-Know-Who has, sorry to say it, and isn't this the person known for killing anyone who cocks an eyebrow in his presence, let alone kicked him out of existence or whatever it is Harry did when he was a baby -- then poof! He's back to full power right there and Harry is not only still alive but remains so long enough to come back here toting Cedric Diggory's body. Oh yes, that is absolutely credible! But express the teeniest reasonable doubt in front of any one of my goody-goody fellow Gryffindors and someone (not naming any names...coughing...Hermione...coughing) is bound to take the opportunity to be self-righteous about it and make you out to be an absolute traitor or something of the sort. And then when the D.A. started up you were pretty much akin to an Umbridge cronie if you didn't jump at the chance...besides, I did want to learn enough Defense Against the Dark Arts to pass my O.W.L. Still, though, it was a bit of a comfort to think, even while training to fight You-Know-Who, that Harry could be lying, or disturbed, that it was in fact most likely.But now You-Know-Who really is out in the open...sort of, I mean, I still don't have a clue what he even looks like, but apparently he's getting down to business now.
Anyway, that's why we've been more or less stuck in the house. The Patils have a lovely big yard but they don't even let us go very far on their own land! You'd think we were children or something. They let us fly around out back a bit but say they should always be able to see us when they look out the window. And none of us three are big fliers anyway. The wind wreaks havoc with our hair. And we still can't use magic at home. So there has been nothing much to do. All Padma wants to do is send owls back and forth to Anthony Goldstein and in the meantime carry on about it as though she were dating Gilderoy Lockhart, honestly. Here I've always thought for some reason that the summer I was sixteen would be spent meeting boys and getting snogged--ha! What was I thinking, that gorgeous Quidditch stars would be popping out from Mrs. Patil's tea kettle?--and the extent of the romance in my summer has been hearing Padma gloat about her prefect boyfriend.
We didn't even get to go to Diagon Alley for school supplies until today because Mr. and Mrs. Patil have been putting it off as long as possible. Apparently You-Know-Who is staked out there just waiting for little old us. I'm being sarcastic just so you know. I mean, who died and made us Harry Potter? No one has it in for me, thank you very much. Anyway, they made a frightful big deal of it, this one little trip. They insisted on hovering about the three of us the whole time we were there, even though there was pretty much no one in Diagon Alley. It's changed so much it is a little depressing. We saw barely anyone, let alone friends from school. I must say, though, I was glad that Parvati's parents were chaperoning us when we passed an ugly little man selling amulets that you'd have to be crazy to buy -- I mean, they were plain tarnished silver welded into hideous shapes like flat evil dragon faces, I ask you, what outfit would they go with? None in my wardrobe, I'll tell you that. Anyway, the seller harassed us! He looked Parvati, Padma, and me up and down and said, "Pretty girls like you need protection, doncheh?" Parvati and I just found it so funny that we couldn't help but giggle. I've-got-a-boyfriend Padma just looked disdainfully bored.
Parvati and Padma turn heads everywhere they go, with their glowing mocha skin, ebony hair, and large dark chocolate eyes. They are identical twins, but I still like to think of Parvati as the better-looking one. Padma is not as nice or fun as my best friend. She has an annoying superior air about her, as do all Ravenclaws, I think. Oh, she's very proud of herself, Padma is, a beauty and a model student as well! Not only is she a Ravenclaw (my term for "swot"), but a prefect too. Parvati and I never dreamed of being prefects, and though this was partly because Hermione Granger was a sure thing for it from day one, it was mostly because we simply have better things to do.
Parvati and Padma are known at Hogwarts as "the best-looking girls" in our year, which I resent. (People only say the two of them so as to represent more than one House in their judgment, I think, rather than making out Gryffindors to be the best in every way even though everyone knows that we are.) As I've told you, I am by no means bad-looking! I have long blonde hair and, sorry to say it, very nice curves.
The only place with any life in all of Diagon Alley was Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Remember Fred and George Weasley, the twins who played all those tricks on Umbridge last year? It's their joke shop. Even though it was nice to see a place with a bit of color, I didn't really plan to go in -- what would a joke shop sell that I can use? Belch Powder and Whizzing Worms? Eurgh! Parvati wanted to go in and say hello, though, so we did.
It wasn't as vile as I thought it would be. They had a whole section just for girls. It was all pink and cute. The three of us must have spent twenty minutes at least looking over everything. There were a lot of love potions -- though I pity the girls who have to resort to those. They also had charms in a bottle that give you really realistic daydreams, which Parvati and I did buy because the picture of the boy on the bottle was gorgeous and we wouldn't mind thinking for twenty minutes or so that we were snogging him.
Fred--or George, I don't know which is which, does anyone?--did come over to offer help and say hi. We didn't chat long, of course--we don't know them that well. I mean, everyone knew who they were at Hogwarts, but I don't know how much they ever noticed us. But because we know Ron and Ginny well enough we asked how they were, and the twin we were talking to said that they had "rather different opinions of the current living arrangements at home."
"What d'you mean?" I asked.
"Remember the Triwizard champion from Beauxbatons?" Fred/George (oh, let's just say it was George, who always seemed the more agreeable of the two) said. "Fleur Delacour?"
"Oh, of course, she was beautiful!" Parvati said. "Have you seen her around?"
"You might say that," George said. "You also might say she's engaged to our brother."
"Percy?" I said incredulously. "How did someone like him get someone like her? He was a swot if ever there was one!"
When George was done laughing, he said, "He's actually worse these days, but Fleur's safe from him. She's engaged to Bill."
"Oh. The one everyone says was so good at Quidditch."
"No, that was Charlie. This is Bill."
Poor Ginny Weasley, growing up with so many brothers! I don't have a brother but I hear they're a dreadful bother to have.
"Anyway, Fleur's staying with the family...with mixed reception. Mum and Ginny, er...don't care for her, actually. Ron's not complaining, though. Ginny tells me he's taken up hovering about her, begging like a puppy for a kiss on the cheek."
I haven't really told you much about the younger Weasleys, have I? They don't really catch your eye much--well, except till last year. When Ginny Weasley came to school I thought, "Poor thing, she'll never get noticed." Painfully freckly and carrot-haired, she was so small and mousy she honestly looked like you could step on her and make her disappear. She sealed her fate as someone to be pitied in my eyes when she wrote a love poem for Harry and one of those ugly little dwarves sang it to him in front of a bunch of people. Parvati and I used to laugh good-naturedly about her little crush on Harry--good luck there, sweetie. True, she did have an advantage over the rest of his admirers in that her brother was his best friend and he spent holidays with her family and everything, but it wasn't having much effect as far as anyone could see, and honestly, what did she expect, being such a backward mouse all the time? You can't rely on circumstance for everything; a girl has got to take the initiative when it comes to boys, because goodness only knows they scarcely ever do. Boys don't really know what they want, that's why they need us to figure it out for them.
Ginny Weasley has come a long way, though. Believe it or not, she is now pretty much the queen of her year. She got a boyfriend--Michael Corner, Ravenclaw, seventh year, not at all bad-looking--at the Yule Ball and after that she pretty much just had to sit back and watch the fortune roll in. All the sudden she seemed to have won the genetic lottery; her hair started to make you think of roses rather than carrots, she now seemed fashionably petite instead of mouselike, and her freckles faded to a mere cute accessory. Also, suddenly she is Miss Personality, witty, confident, charming, the works. She was never friendless but now she was definitely in with the right people. And to cap it all, she made the Quidditch team last year. When she ditched Michael--mistake if you ask me--a new boyfriend was at her feet before she could say "eenie meenie minie mo"--Dean Thomas, you know who he is, the one in our year who I used to think fancied Parvati. Ginny is far too popular these days to think about Harry Potter at all, so Parvati and I have lost that particular gossip thread. (Don't worry, though--the new year is sure to bring plenty more romantic intrigue to talk about! Our classes--except for Divination, the most fascinating thing I've ever studied--are all so frightfully dull that I don't know how I would get along without a fresh tide of gossip each year.)
As for Ron, he's in our year as you know, but I think I have probably talked about him the least of all my classmates to you, diary. I always saw him as not quite worth my attention--not cool enough to admire and not pathetic enough to pity, simply not interesting enough to say much about. He is, as you know, best friends with Harry Potter so I guess you could say he's in a somewhat lofty social position, but I always thought he must've gotten into Harry's selective little circle by some fluke accident. I mean, what's special about him, you ask? Absolutely nothing. In fact, he is a bit annoying to tell the truth. He's a prefect as well, but a less likely prefect you never knew--he is not a swot in the least, quite the opposite. In any case, we have nothing to do with each other. He speaks maybe one sentence to me a year, and I make a point of saying even less than that to him. The only brushes with him that stick out in my mind at all are when he sympathized with the death of my baby rabbit Binky in third year right in Hermione Granger's face (who was being all clinical about it as usual), and in fourth year when he made a rather inappropriate comment at me. And then, if you count it, when Harry asked me if I would go to the Yule Ball with him because goodness knows no one else wanted to, but I was already going with Seamus, thank goodness (it was Padma that got landed with Ron--she wasn't so high and mighty then, was she, no one better to go with than Ron Weasley!). Now I'm going to cry thinking about Binky.
But last year sort of marked a change for Ron as well. When he made it onto the Quidditch team I assumed he'd do just fine; athletic talent does seem to run in his overlarge family. After the first game of the season, however, I was thinking, "Oh, this is just too sad." Not only was he absolutely horrible at it, but the Slytherins made up a mean song about him and how he was their king because he was going to win the game for them and sang it for the whole school to hear during the game. I don't think I've ever felt so embarrassed for anyone, ever! (The song was a bit catchy, though, and I actually found myself singing it softly sometimes and giggling at the words.) But then he got his act together in time for the Quidditch final and was quite fantastic, actually. It was amazing to watch; there he was, messing up and being pathetic as usual, then out of nowhere kicks in and blocks every single goal like lightning or something. I guess there really is hope for everyone. So Gryffindor won and everybody raised Ron on their shoulders and handed him the Quidditch Cup and treated him like a right hero for days. They even rewrote the song about him to be flattering. So I guess you could say he is well-known and even admired in his own right now. It's a funny thing, when there is someone you have always seen in one way and then you're abruptly pushed into seeing them in another, very different light. I must say that the Weasleys seem to age well. I mean, obviously there is Ginny, and then there is Ron, who I used to think looked like, sorry to say it, a scarecrow with red hair. But he has grown into his gangly height; in fact, it works quite well for him now. And red hair on boys is actually quite attractive when you think about it. I don't suppose Ron Weasley is a lost cause at all. He may turn out nicely yet.
Anyway, George was called away by a customer then and we left. There was nothing else left to do in Diagon Alley after that; the ice cream parlor is gone and everything. I sometimes wonder if everyone is taking this Fear You-Know-Who thing a bit too far. I mean, I know there have been deaths and everything, but he seems for the most part to be keeping to himself--is it really such an international crisis? I used to think that if he really was back I'd feel different somehow, that everything in my life would have gone to pieces and I'd know nothing but fear and misery and wouldn't care about anything or even really be me anymore, but my affairs are just fine, thank you. I mean, if everyone would stop being such ninnies about it, my life wouldn't be any different at all, really. I'm the same Lavender Brown today as ever I was and who is going to change that?