September 1st, 1989
Dear Journal of mine, George and I are finally going to Hoggy-Warty-Hogwarts! About time, eh? Mum was making a right fuss over us, her fourth and fifth babies going away. Aw, cry me a river! At least we got away to sneak into good ol' Coke's Joke Shop. Bloody brilliant, that place is! Dungbombs, stink pellets, and these little Peruvian things that emit all this black smoke. Brilliant for distractions. Perce says not to make any trouble; that just earned him double, though. I swear, one day that boy will become a prefect and I'll have to deny my relations with him. Every other Weasley loves a good laugh. Not Perce. He'd rather snog a textbook, and he's only a third year now! I wonder if a girl could loosen him up? Let him know what its like to snog something alive... I must plot that one further with George... But it might not even work. This is Percy we're talking about, after all. Mr. I'd-Rather-Organize-My-Knickers-By-Scent-Than-Admit-My-Younger-Brothers-Are-Actually-
Funny. If Ronnikins ends up like that, George and I may just have to transfer to Beaubatons. Not Durmstrang. Stupid, foreign, ugly blokes. It'd be easy to get girls, though. Unless they're blubbery to keep warm. Oh, that'd be bad... But, it's getting dark, now. Oh look, there a nice middle-aged witch with some food... I fancy some Pumpkin Pasties, or maybe a Licorice Wand? I wonder what George did with my money bag...?
September 8th, 1989
Blimey, what a week! All my teachers are... too teacher-ish. McGonagall, my head of house (Gryffindor, by the way! Cheers!) and transfiguration teacher, is so uptight you'd think the house elves starched her knickers. "Hogwarts is a place to learn and study, and you will do so. Lose Gryffindor points, and I will be most displeased. I sincerely hope you all are a positive assets to Gryffindor in the House Cup." Oh, blah blah blah. And Flitwick! Tiny thing of a man, but quick with a wand. He basically said the same thing, 'cept the thing about Gryffindor points, of course. Then, theres the potions teacher, Snape! Potions are dodgy enough, but this guy, sheesh! Can you say Death Eater?! And slimy! You might be laughing, Journal, but I honestly don't think the poor bloke knows what shampoo or a breath mint is. Sprout, the Herbology professor, is nice enough, though. Bloody Hufflepuff. She could use some handsoap, too, though. To much bloody dirt on her! She's a walking Mandrake! Hooch, the flying teacher, is kinda out there. Spiky grey hair? Bizzare. But thats what you get when you get hit with too many bludgers, I suppose. I'll have to warn George, right when we wanted to try out for Beaters, too. Well, next year, maybe. You know first years never make the team? They think we know nothing, honestly. And then there's the Defense professor, Nightwen. He's boring like you wouldn't believe! He just drones on and on, almost as bad as Binns, the History teacher, who's also the only ghost teacher. The most exciting part of his class is him drifting through the blackboard, and the awesome daydreams you can have. Why the hell do we need to know about bloody Goblin Rebilions and how ugly Urg the Ugly was in our first week? Really! I'm sure Percy would snog Binns, if Binns were living. Bet he tastes better than books. His own voice must have been his murderer. If I had a voice like that... Oh, it's time for dinner! These meals are as amazing as mums... George and I must find those kitchens for future parties. I hear its house elves that do all the cooking and cleaning around here; over one thousand. Blimey! And the Great Hall ceiling, it's enchanted to mimic the outside sky. Bloody brilliant! Percy, who I reckon is the only person in the family to have ever read Hogwarts: A History, says it was Rowena Ravenclaw who charmed it. But who bothers with those details? It's just one of those things that should be appreciated, not picked apart and analyzed.
October 31, 1989
I never did tell you, Journal, exactly how annoying the caretaker, Filch, is, did I? I swear, if he didn't loathe Peeves, (the resident poltergiest) so much, they could date. He assigned George and I a detention, just for "kicking" that mangy cat of his. Honestly, I swear I just tripped over the damn thing! And then George defended me, saying he pushed me, stupid noble bloke. He got a detention for "Muggle Abuse" in the corridors. Stupid, bloody rules. And then Peeves came along, with this stupid song:
"Measly Weasley numbers four and five! First Year twins, Filchy'll skin you alive!"
I mean, "Filchy"? Is that this poltergeist can really come up with? Pitiful. How about "Squibby"? Filch must be, why else does he clean up the castle not with a wand, but a scrub brush? Bit dodgy, you know? That would also explain why he seems to hate us students so much. But anyways, back to our detention. Yeah... In about three hours, immediately following the feast, which I hear is legendary, by the way, George and I are scrubbing the dungeons, and then the Grand Staircase. By hand. And we get one bottle of soap. If we run out of soap, Filch says we'll have to buy more off of him. Isn't that like stealing from a student? Bloody, dodgy, stupid Squib. Thank Merlin Bill has taken pity on us; He said it's everyone's dream to give Mrs. Norris a good kick, so he's doing our school work for us. I heard Dumbledore reserved the Weird Sisters to play tonight. But, with all the rumors that fly around this place, you never really know, do you?
November 1, 1989
Blimey, Journal! My shoulders, elbows, wrists, fingers, and any other arm-joint you think of is on FIRE! I never really realized just how big that staircase is. I have a completely new respect for it. No more kicking Mrs. Norris, while Filch is on the same floor at least. Bloody beast has got it coming. Once was nowhere near enough. The feast was awesome, though. Live bats, floating pumpkins, and violins playing eerie music overhead among the bats and pumpkins. No Weird Sisters, though. George kept banging on about how the singers voice "is soooooo dreamy". Sounds like George's got a bit of a crush, eh? Oh, Bill just handed me my homework. I guess it was a one time deal only? I'll have to do it, I guess. Now, what did Flitwick say about Wingardium Leviosa? Swish and jab? Upward flick? Flick and swish? Oh, not good...
December 21, 1989
Going home for the holidays! I wish we didn't have those three essays and that diagram... What ever happened to holiday spirit? Well, the essay from Snape was expected because we all know he has no soul. But what about that Moon Flower diagram (detailed and colored!) for Sprout? I thought Hufflepuffs were nice... I'll be having a word, I believe, with the Sorting Hat. Oh, Journal! I never told you, did I? Well, a few days ago, George and I had some Dungbombs fall out of our pockets. Filch dragged us down to his dingy little office near the dungeons for that, and we saw a filing cabinate labeled "Dangerous Objects". Obviously, we were totally interested, So George dropped another Dungbomb as a distraction while I found the most amazing thing ever. It was a blank piece of parchment, until i touched. Then these words flashed upon it, "A true mischief maker at last. We'll reveal our pranking secrets, if you can decipher the correct password!" I grabbed it, and pocketed the parchment. Then, Peeves dropped something really heavy overhead, and Filch was so distracted he let us off! George and I still haven't figured out the password, but apparently we were close with "I swear to Merlin I'm up to nothing good!" We'll have to hid it from Mum, she already doesn't trust us...
February 19, 1990
I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. Thats the password. It turns out that this is a map that shows the location of everyone inside of Hogwarts and the Grounds, and several secret passages in, out, and around the castle. We're still trying to turn OFF the map, though. George reckons it's something like "Quick, hide yourself!" or "I've got a detention now!" I told him thats a load of ghoul dung. These Marauder guys, though, they were brilliant! Cartography spells, and tracking spells, thats something I don't think that's even taught in seventh year!
April 13, 1990
Yes, Journal, I've realized my entries are getting shorter and shorter. Homework load has tripled, and George and I are still coming up with new pranks, serving detentions, and dogding prefects. And we've got finals coming up. We're not going to do well, I know, but I'm confident we'll make it to second year. I hope. Mom can't stand thats she's already gotten five owls home. I told her not to worry, and that McGonagall would probably send many more. I got a Howler for that one, bringing a total of six this year. How disappointing...
June 14, 1990
Ah, summer is just around the corner. And I was right, George and I barely passed. Snape set us a two foot long essay, McGonagall a foot and a half, Flitwick wants a foot on Levitating Charms, and Binns wants an entire roll on goblin rebellions. Merlin! Like that'll happen! George and I want to try out next year for Gryffindor Quidditch, Beaters. Our current Keeper, Wood, is brilliant. I bet he'll be captain next year, watch, even though he'll only be a fourth year. I'd better for finish packing, I guess... I seem to have misplaced a few things... Like my books. Until next year, Journal!