Hey guys. Let me start this off with a rousing chorus of I'M SORRY! I really meant to get this to you earlier, but, well, a bunch of life happened. I wrote a novel, played trumpet in a musical, turned sixteen, and had someone I know die. Anyways, let's start 2011 off on a much more lovely foot.

Also, I just wanted to thank all of you for reading this. You just make my day.

HP is (c) J.K. Rowling

I was glad I had swallowed my potatoes, or I probably would've spit them all over the table. Instead, I forced myself to calm down for the third time that day. "Sure, Ginny. I'd love to talk to you."

Ginny glared at me in a way that said she knew, and she knew that I knew that she knew. Confusing? Yes. And pretty intimidating. I could tell why so few of the Slytherins bugged Ginny—besides the fact that her brothers would probably hex them back to whatever mansion they came from. That is, if she didn't get to them first.

I stood up, not really wanting to be in the middle of the Great Hall when she… said whatever it was she wanted to say. After five years at Hogwarts, I had a weird defence mechanism that kicked in whenever someone confronted me.

"Come on," Ginny nodded towards the door, and lead me out of the hall. The second we were away from everyone, she shouted, "I never thought you could be this big a jerk, Violet!"

"What?" I asked, totally confused. I hadn't done anything to Ginny, unless… No, she couldn't be upset that I hadn't told her I liked Fred—especially because I wasn't so sure on that myself. But he was her brother, so she had every right to be pissed.

"You knew—you knew what he means to me!" Ginny paced back and forth, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I'm so sorry, Ginny. I-I didn't really think it meant anything," I said. I was pretty much panicking—I didn't know what I'd done, but it had to be pretty bad. What about that time Fred came and found me in the Room of Requirement…? It wasn't like Ginny could know about that, but I wasn't so sure…

"Didn't mean anything? How could it not mean anything—I've liked him for years!"

"Wait a second," I said, and she stopped her pacing. "What are you talking about?"

"You were in the common room with Harry before the first task—Lavender Brown told me you were, uh, pretty encouraging."

"Lavender Brown wasn't even there," I said, scoffing. The fourth year had an uncanny gift for spreading all kinds of weird rumours.

Ginny frowned and said, "So you admit it. You and Harry were, well…"

She broke off as if she couldn't bring herself to finish her train of thought. "No, of course not," I said before she could jump to any strange conclusions. "I was in the common room because I couldn't sleep, and Harry and I were just talking. There is absolutely nothing going on between us."

Ginny glared at me for one, long moment. Then she turned and looked at her shoes, her face going red. "Okay," she said. "I just—I had to ask."

I nodded slowly. I wasn't so much annoyed that Ginny had accused me of doing—well, something—with Harry. I was just relieved that she believed me when I told her the truth.

"So…" Ginny began. "You look nice."

I turned bright red—I was still wearing mascara and some lip gloss, from when I had thought the twins would still be in the common room and that, by wearing the absolutely minimum amount to make up I could, I would somehow impress them? I couldn't believe my backwards logic, but it was fun to dress up a little. (And yes, I do mean dress up. I don't understand what's wrong with a t-shirt and jeans, or the uniform.)

"Thanks," I said. Ginny still looked guilty, and I didn't feel much better myself. She and Livy were my best friends, and here I was, keeping stuff from them. "Can you believe I was actually trying to impress a guy?"

Ginny's eyebrows shot up, and I quickly added, "Not Harry Potter, of course."

Ginny laughed and I laughed too. Then she smiled a crafty smile that told me she was planning something. "You do realize the Yule Ball is coming up incredibly soon."

"Oh," I said, pretending to be surprised. "So that's what everyone's been going on about for months. Makes sense."

Ginny hit me lightly, and then got serious. "Are you going to the ball, Violet?"

"I'm not sure," I said. "I might have detention."

Ginny scoffed. "McGonagall will let you off—there's no way she would want to miss the ball. I can just imagine her, doing the tango with Snape."

"Ugh, bad mental picture!" I said, picturing Professor Snape with a rose in his mouth, twirling Professor McGonagall around the Great Hall.

Instead of laughing, Ginny's face was screwed up with dread. "What...?" I began, then turned around to follow her gaze. Ginny was staring behind me where, only a few feet away from us, stood Professor Snape.

"Hello, Professor," Ginny said calmly, quickly covering up the fear in her eyes. I was more shocked by that than Snape showing up just as we were talking about him—I didn't think Ginny was afraid of anything.

"Good evening Miss Weasley," he said, glaring down his big nose at her. I'd never hated Snape, unlike, well, most of Gryffindor. He was a brilliant potion maker, and a pretty good teacher, when he wasn't busy making fun of people because their families or marks. But I had to admit it—he wasn't my favourite person in the world.

"Miss Rosebloom," he said, turning his attention to me. Great. Just when I thought he hadn't noticed me. "Professor McGonagall is busy preparing for the Yule Ball, so you'll be spending your detention in the dungeons with me."

"Yes, Professor," I said.

"I'll see you at eight o'clock," Snape said, and walked away.

When he was out of earshot, Ginny burst out laughing. "Yes, Professor," she said in a high pitched voice that was apparently supposed to sound like me. She even curtsied.

"Shut up," I said as we started walking back to the Great Hall.

"Everything alright?" Livy asked as we sat across from her.

"Snape wants to practice his dance moves with Violet tonight," Ginny said, and she and Livy started laughing loudly.

Livy was laughing so hard that she started snorting. She was reduced to giggling by the time George came into the hall and sat down next to her. He raised her eyebrows at her and Ginny, but they were both laughing too much to explain.

"I have a detention—" I began, when Ginny interrupted, "Violet, you'll have to tell us, does Snape wear a leotard when he practices?"

George didn't know what they were talking about, but that didn't stop him from joining in and laughing. Even I started giggling a little. I looked up and down the table, glad that most people had already eaten dinner, otherwise I'm sure we would be attracting quite a few funny looks.

At the far end of the table, a familiar face caught my attention. Fred had parchment and a quill—was he actually doing homework? That was too weird. A moment later Fred folded up the piece of parchment, tapped it with his wand, and sent it flying through the air. It flew so close to me that my heart began to race. Then the parchment hit Angelina Johnson on the shoulder.

Angelina looked up and down the table, and caught Fred's eye. He nodded at the folded note, smiling a small, dangerous smile. Angelina was sitting a few feet away from me, and I could see her return the smile and unfold the parchment, but I couldn't make out what was written on it.

She looked at him with one eyebrow raised, and Fred pointed from her to him, and then mimed waltzing. Angelina blushed and nodded.

I felt like someone had pushed me off of a cliff. My stomach lurched painfully, and my breath caught in my throat.

I turned around to see if George had seen. Livy and Ginny had stopped laughing, and were talking about whether or not it was worth it to sneak off to Hogsmeade one last time before the Ball. I met his sad, blue eyes, and understood.

Livy looked up when I stood abruptly. "Be back later," I said, and George and I walked to the common room in silence.

I thought falling for Fred was bad—this was much worse. Now I was just falling.

The evening passed by in a blur. George told me he hadn't told Fred that he fancied Angelina—but I wasn't sure if he was telling the truth, or just trying to make Fred look better.

"Are you going to be okay?" I asked. We were sitting on a couch in a far corner of the common room. I felt a little bit funny, talking with George about our feelings. But he hadn't told anyone else that he fancied Angelina, and besides, I liked spending time with him.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," George said. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Fred didn't know any better. Plus, he's always had better luck with girls. Angelina probably likes him better."

"What?" I said. "George, that's crazy. I'm sure she's completely in love with you—she probably just agreed to go with Fred because he asked her first."

George grimaced, and I realized I was doing a pretty horrible job of cheering him up. It was hard when I wasn't feeling so great myself.

"Would you have said yes?" he asked out of the blue.

"Said yes—to Fred?"

"No," George said. He leaned forward until our faces were just a few centimetres away from each other. My skin felt very warm where we were touching, and I tried my hardest not to blush. "Would you have said yes if I asked you?"

Without waiting for an answer, George closed the gap between us and brushed his lips against mine. It was just a light kiss, and it barely lasted a moment. But that was long enough for me to get a seriously weird feeling, and pull away.

"Violet, I..." George began. Judging by the look on his face, he knew that that had been a bad idea.

"No, George. It's okay; let's just... let's not do that again. I like someone else."

"Yeah," George said. He was back on the other side of the couch now, and his face was as red as his hair. "I kind of figured that."

"You—what?"

"You like Fred. It isn't hard to tell, Violet." George said calmly. Wait, when did that happen? For the whole few hours I had known that I might kind-of-sort-of like Fred, I had been acting completely normal. Or, as close to normal as I can get.

I glanced quickly around the common room. Fred, Ginny and Livy were nowhere to be seen—Fred hadn't seen George kissing me, and no one else had heard what George just said. Maybe, just this once, the universe was going to give me a break.

"How did you know?" I asked quietly.

George smiled. "Well, I wasn't sure, but you just made it pretty obvious."

I could tell my face was bright red by now, so I tried to change the subject. "Who are you going to the Ball with?"

George's expression darkened. Oh, right, Angelina. Wow, I just ruined that conversation.

"I don't know—what about you?" he asked.

"Yeah, right. I'll be lucky if I end up going at all. It's not like I have a date, a dress, or any of those other things you need to attend a dance," I said. I sighed, realizing just how unprepared I was.

"That's no problem—Livy and Ginny want to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow."

"Yeah, except it's against the rules and they want to sneak out to Hogsmeade. If anyone finds out, there's no way we'd be allowed to go to the Ball at all," I said. Sometimes I got annoyed by how easily the others dismissed rules.

George rolled his eyes. "No one has to know. You guys can be back in a few hours and use one of the secret passageways."

"Oh, of course," I said sarcastically. "I forgot it was that easy."

"Hey, when your last name's Weasley," George said and laughed. "That still doesn't get you a date, though, unless you can buy one at Hogsmeade."

I grimaced. "Yeah, not going to happen. I've barely spoken to any boys at Hogwarts, unless I was partners with them in class, or something."

George laughed, and then his face got serious. "Actually, you're right. I don't think you spoke to me before this year—well, maybe to yell at me once or twice."

I tried not to squirm. I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable with George talking about how I used to be—how we used to act around each other. I wasn't embarrassed about how shy and awkward I used to be (and still was) (okay so maybe I was a little embarrassed), but I would definitely rather he didn't bring it up.

"What made you act differently this year?" he asked.

I looked at George. If he and Fred weren't identical twins, I wondered if it would still be so hard to sit there and just talk to him. Maybe if I squinted hard enough, I could pretend I was sitting next to Fred. But no, that wouldn't work—it wasn't just the tiny differences in their looks. Fred and George were two entirely different people, and I was beginning to wonder which one I like spending time with more.

"Honestly?" I asked. It was pretty clear from the look in his dark blue eyes that he wasn't looking for some kind of joke. I guess even a Weasley twin couldn't stay laughing all the time. "I wanted to stand up for myself. Mostly, I just wanted to make you guys feel as bad as you made me feel all the time."

I know it's cliché, but I really did feel like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. I glanced at my watch and realized that I had five minutes to get down to the dungeons before Snape cut me up and turned me into some kind of potion.

I quickly said goodbye to George and, before he could say anything, left the common room, feeling strangely cheerful.

Turns out, Snape hands out detentions like other people hand out candy on Halloween. When I got to the dungeons, it wasn't nearly as empty and desolate as I had expected. There were five other people standing there, waiting for instructions.

I recognized two Ravenclaws who were part of their house's quidditch team. There was a younger Gryffindor student who was looking around the potions room with wide eyes. He looked completely terrified.

I was about to try and comfort the Gryffindor (because I was feeling so confident myself) when I recognized the other two detention-ees. Lee Jordan and Fred Weasley were standing a little ways away from everyone else, laughing about something. I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the way my stomach clenched when I saw them. I walked as confidently as I could over to the Gryffindor boy and smiled what I hoped was an encouraging smile.

Before I could say anything, Snape walked in, and the boy began twitching. His hands were shaking so badly, I hoped Snape wouldn't make the boy cut up ingredients, or he'd be off to the Hospital Wing in no time.

"Something funny, Weasley?" Snape asked with a glare already fastened on his pale face.

"No Professor Snape," Fred said, sounding so earnest that if it weren't for his constant smirk, I might almost have believed him.

"We'll see how funny you think this is when you're scrubbing dirty cauldrons," Snape said.

"Sparks, Elwood." He turned to address the two Ravenclaws. "You two will be grinding Bicorn horn. Keep it away from your eyes or you can be temporarily blinded.

Snape smirked for a moment, like blinding the Ravenclaws didn't seem like a bad idea. I wondered what they got detention for in the first place—it must've been something pretty bad. Then his face returned to its usual glare and he turned to face the Gryffindor boy.

"Mr. Lewis," he said in a cold voice. The boy was trembling by now. "You will be alphabetizing potions ingredients in my store cupboard. And if I find so much as an eagle owl feather missing, know that the consequences will be severe."

The boy's head bobbed up and down, and he scurried away to the store cupboard. Then Snape looked at me. "Miss Rosebloom, you and Mr. Jordan will be assisting to clean the cauldrons."

I gulped. Detention with Fred? Working with Fred? But, I assured myself, it could be way worse. All we had to do was clean a few cauldrons. How long could that take?

"Oh," Snape said, stopping a few steps from his office door. "And no magic."

"Bloody first years," Lee grumbled, using a wiry brush to scrape some kind of purple gunk off the bottom of a cauldron. "What is this supposed to be? Oy, Violet, what is this?"

I glanced over and shrugged. I was sitting a few feet away from Fred and Lee, quietly scrubbing away at a dirty cauldron. Just focus, I kept telling myself. Just focus on your work, however disgusting it might be, and get it done.

Try as I might, I couldn't help but glance at Fred. He looked up, and raised his eyebrows. "Let me guess, you used to work as a professional cauldron cleaner?"

I snorted before I could stop myself. "I could do twenty in an hour,"

Fred nodded, looking almost impressed. Of course he was just kidding. It would be hard to be one of the twins, I thought suddenly. Everyone would think you were joking, all the time.

Fred and Lee started talking about whether or not dropping a piano on Snape's head would get them expelled, and I went back to cleaning. The rhythmic scraping of my sponge against the cauldron was almost soothing enough to make me forget what I was actually doing, and my mind wandered.

I thought about what George had said. Maybe I could sneak off to Hogsmeade without getting caught. Maybe I could find an amazing dress, have an amazing time at the ball, and graduate from Hogwarts next year to have an amazing life. Maybe. It was such a big word, that it filled me with a new kind of confidence that I hadn't felt in years.

"Hey, Lee," I said. He and Fred looked up and I forced myself to keep looking at Lee, only Lee. "Are you going to the Yule Ball?"

Lee laughed, "Yeah, I am. Why?"

"I, um, was just wondering... Who are you going with?"

Lee shrugged and said, "You, I guess, since you're doing such a good job of asking me."

I smiled and he smiled back, and I felt a strange warmth spreading through my body, like someone had made me drink a potion, or something. And it felt nice.

It took us two hours to clean all the cauldrons. I was surprised that no one even attempted to use magic, but, according to Fred, last time he'd used his wand, Snape gave him another week of detention for disobeying him. Fred, Lee and I walked back to the Gryffindor common room with the small, scared looking boy trailing behind us.

I said good night and made my way across the common room to the girls' dormitories when someone grabbed my wrist. I turned to see Fred standing a foot away from me, with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Fred, what are you—?" I began, but he cut me off.

"I hope you have a really good time at the ball," he said, then added, "with Lee."

"Thank you," I said, and, without hesitating, ran up the stairs. Livy was snoring loudly by the time I changed into my pyjamas. I lay on my bed, thinking about the day. The worst part was, I realized, Fred had been completely serious.

So... yeah! That's it! Well, not "it" it, because she needs to go to the ball, of course. Okay, now I'm just rambling. It's seriously snowy here, like, potential blizzard conditions. I love it.

Question: What would you wear to the Yule Ball/what do you think Violet should wear?