A/N: Welcome back, gentle readers.

Hogwarts is something like a small town. Usually everyone knows what's going down, and if you're not in on a situation, it's easy to feel like a complete social outcast. Well… it's funny how when you and a gossip are the only ones in on the biggest current affairs, you still feel like a complete freak.

I just can't win.

"Ohmigosh, ohmigosh, ohmigosh!" Joan shrieked frantically as I sauntered into the dorm.

"What are you freaking over?" I asked nervously.

"I can't believe he actually did that to you!" She ran over and grabbed my sleeve and dragged me to the bed, sitting me down and staring at me wide-eyed. She just stared expectantly at me in silence. I blinked. "What are you going to do?" she asked impulsively.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "I have NO idea what you're talking about."

"That spell, Ginny!—he used on you where you can't—oh..." she trailed off and thought for a second. "I have this friend-"she said evasively, raising a brow.

"--Oh really?" I perked up and smiled as we fidgeted to face each other.

"And this guy did a spell on her so she can't talk about something or else her tongue will be viciously torn out," she stated wiggling her fingers as if to add drama.

"Oh, what a pity..."

"Yeah, and her friend—my friend's friend—well she heard the whole thing and she's wondering if she should tell someone."

"That depends, does the friend's friend have a death threat from the guy that cast the spell?" I asked with an obvious glare. My tongue was tingling with anxiety for the conversation.

"Oh, uh, yeah, kinda..." Joan scratched the back of her neck and leaned back, crossing her arms. "Crap..."

I patted Joan's shoulder. "Perhaps," I began softly, "If both, or at least one, values their life or tongue, maybe neither should say anything… well not for awhile, at least."

"Crap..." Joan repeated.

"Yeah it really sucks, but I'm sure your friend likes her tongue a whole heck of a lot. So don't worry right now, they can get through this."

"Yeah, I guess..."

"Hey wanna go down to the kitchen and get a smoothie?" I asked brightly

"Are you crazy?" she hissed. "I think we can wait until lunch, I don't feel like getting caught."

"Hello! Your friend has a death threat over her head, I think she can risk a smoothie."

"True…"

"Then it's settled. I'm having strawberry-banana, what are you having?"

"We're going to try a new exercise," Harry said. "Instead of Bludgers, we're just going to use two Quaffles and I want you two to hit them through the hoops, this'll test your aim." Harry turned around on his broom and called down the field, "Geoff, Jack, Dean! You're going to catch the balls once they go through and make a combination pass using both balls at once. Ron you try to block them, if you catch one, through it back to the Beaters. Keep the balls moving the whole time."

The Quidditch positions have changed a lot since Oliver left, Angelina was Captain in my fourth year and Ron had just become Keeper; that was nothing much. But then that crazy cat Umbridge showed up and then Harry, Fred and George got booted so two blokes named Jack and Geoffrey and I got to take over, with me as Seeker.

Ron recommended me, of course, because I was his sister, and very small. I could fly pretty well, okay, really well. And I was "aerodynamic" according to Alicia who kept walking around me and scratching her head, as if to assess how good of a Seeker I was by how I stood. Andrew and Jack took Fred and George's place as Beaters.

Then Harry came back on the team, while Andrew graduated. They were about to break in a new Beater, but I jumped up and down going, "Ple-e-e-ease!" and reminding them of how Fred and George declaratively "passed the torch" to me until they said yes.

In my sixth year, this year, Louis came as an exchange student from Beauxbatons and all our Chasers graduated.

I don't think I quite stressed enough on how good of a Beater Louis is…

Louis had been undergoing a training program with the French team, and was well known as a soon-to-be professional Beater at the age of sixteen. He aspired to be on the Quiberon Quafflepunchers, the national team of France. Apparently, they were already considering him, since one of there Beaters was having a birthday soon, and they make it a goal to keep all their players under 30, a strange tradition.

There hadn't been this much uproar since Victor Krum was spit out of the Goblet of Fire. When he came, Dumbledore opted to give him a private sorting to find his sleeping arrangements. Every Quidditch captain stood outside the room trying to hear what house he would be put in.

When the hat boomed, "Gryffindor!" Harry, the new captain for this year, started hopping up and down while saying, "The Cup is ours! The Cup is ours!" At this, Malfoy, this year's Slytherin captain, said, "One good player doesn't make up for a team of bad ones." I'm sure there was a barrage of insults that followed, but in any sense, Harry jumped Malfoy, and Louis walked out at that very moment and pointed at the two boys rolling on the floor and said, "I'm not in zair house, right?"

Jack changed to the Chaser position and we began to train Dean and Geoffrey, a smaller boy deemed "whiny" by Angelina; Geoffrey was about to get the Keeper position but was held back for that reason.

That's our Quidditch team, confused yet? Yeah.

It was such a thrill to win the first game of the season, what with all the rearranging on our team! But in all honesty, I must admit, it'd be a miracle if we won the Cup this year.

Harry would fly around us, barking instructions as we went. Louis would hit a bludger left, I right. Ron would catch one and throw it back while the Chasers dodged to catch one. Geoff would swoop under and toss it over to Jack, who would swerve under and pass it back to Geoff. They stayed in a V-shape consistently, weaving around the pitch like a braid.

When one of them dropped a ball, Harry would yell, "Do that again and I'll have the twins start pelting you with the Quaffle."

For some reason, the nickname "the twins" was a title that had just stuck for the Beaters. That's what they were always referred to with Fred and George, and Harry couldn't kick the habit.

"Louis, is that game tomorrow?" I asked while throwing up a Quaffle and smashing it at the hoops.

"Yes," he replied, posing to catch the Quaffle flying back from Ron. "I think it's-ugh- Slythering and Hufflepuff."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. I can't imagine why a game would be scheduled the day after Halloween, though," Louis said almost sadly, effortlessly hitting a Quaffle away to continue conversation. "Slythering will win, I saw them practi-sissing. Zey had good form, mais their Beaters are... sloppy."

"I guess they will win," I said, catching a Quaffle from Geoffrey, "Hufflepuff was a bit shoddy when we gave them that what-for." I paused while we had a moment without either Quaffle, "I just hope that we don't have to go against Slytherin for The Cup."

"You're very confident about that Cup."

"I personally think it would take a miracle. Harry's adamant."

"You know, Hermione," Ron said, "I think Crookshanks is beginning to like me!" He smiled and stroked the cat lovingly.

The cat hissed and stroke fiercely at his arm.

"Ah!" Ron yelled.

Hermione laughed.

"Stupid cat!" Ron shouted as he pushed the cat off the arm of the chair. The cat hissed again and Ron ran off as the miniature beast began to pounce at his feet.

"Ron!" Hermione reprimanded.

"Halloween-Halloween-Halloween-Halloweeeen!"

"Would you shut up, Dean?" Ron snapped.

"A festival of mischief and magic!" Dean hollered, leaping on the corner-side street lamp. He tipped the flamboyant velvet top hat he was wearing at a crowd of girls walking by. "A holiday of reeking havoc! Watch me reek! Absolutely reek!"

"I'll reek your face in a second if you don't sod it!" Seamus retorted.

Dean hopped down and dramatically inhaled the crisp air. "Oh, the air smells like sugar," he sighed wistfully. "A beautiful night in Hogsmeade…"

Oh, Halloween. Candy and pumpkin pies, surrounded in a symphony of laughter and screams. Sparks shooting from every which way of a wayward wand or good-hearted trap. Trickery and deceit were not only welcomed with open arms, but welcomed like a big, fat turkey. A big, fat turkey with gravy. Because that's what Halloween is like, a big, fat turkey with gravy: there's yummy goodness on the outside and creepy bits on the in.

I was walking in a group of sixth and seventh year Gryffindors: Dean, Seamus, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Louis, Neville, and now and then Parvati, Padma, and Lavender would bob in and out to flirt with the blokes. The boys were insisting to go to Fred and George's joke shop, where there was going to be a belching contest. Hermione and I shook our head and sighed as we fell in trot after the boys.

Louis and Neville appeared to be fixed in a conversation about Herbology while the rest of the primates sauntered in front of the pack, already practicing their burps.

"Can you believe them? A belching contest, really..." Hermione muttered.

"And they're aloud to use magical aid," I replied, "I forgot my ear plugs. Do you think they'll provide them?"

"Knowing you brothers, they will have earplugs," she said grimly, "They'll just turn into cockroaches or something…"

We walked on behind them, quietly until I inquired, "Well Hermione, have you done anything mischievous tonight?"

"Yes, I put itching powder in the uniforms of the entire Slytherin Quidditch team," she whispered.

"Ha! That'll be the day!" I laughed.

"No, I really did..." she said in a shaky undertone.

I stopped in my tracks and studied her. She turned and grabbed my arm and made me keep moving. I laughed in disbelief mouth agape. "Really?"

"Well it was Lavender's idea, she convinced us all to do it. The girls and I did it on All-Hollow's Eve." She glanced at me. "Please, don't tell anyone."

"Hermione?" I hissed, "You're not Hermione!"

"I am, and I… was inspired," she said wistfully.

"By what? My brothers?"

"By a book I read called, "'Archibald Reginald,' it's quite excellent; about a young man who falls in love with a girl and begins to do crazy things. The ending's very morbid though, he kills himself."

"There are so many things wrong with that…"

"Oh, really?" She laughed brazenly. I smiled at her. "Well I suppose Archibald seems a lot more justified when you're reading the book."

"What's your justification? Is it love too?" I said sarcastically.

"No, not really..."

I almost paused in my tracks again, surprised to hear this response when I was being sarcastic in the first place. "As if it's not enough to get one shock in a night…" I said in a low voice. "You have a crush, don't you?"

She shook her head and rolled her shoulders back, trying to cover up the blush on her cheeks with an noble posture.

We were coming up near Wheezes and I could tell Hermione was attempting to evade something as she shouldered her cloak over herself. "What are you not telling me, Hermione?"

She whined and nearly frowned. We were well behind the boys and she leaned over to me. "I trust you won't say anything, I know you're like that. But first I would like to say we did that itching powder trick for our own bit o' thrill."

I chuckled, "Yes, yes, Hermione, cut to the chase."

"Okay," she laughed nervously, shaking her head as if she couldn't believe she was getting this off her shoulders. "There's this guy in Ravenclaw..."

"Anthony Goldstein?"

"How did you know?

"He was in the DA and he's a prefect, a Ravenclaw, there's must have been something there."

She let out a whine that begged for pity. "You won't tell, will you?"

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "I said I wouldn't and I won't," I replied, mentally noting how we sounded like thirteen-year-olds. "I know exactly how you feel. Remember when I told you about Michael?"

"Yes, you were a wreck. Oh my gosh! I don't look like a wreck, do I?" She turned to me, grinning nervously. "Oh, it's just, you know me. I never talk too much about this... stuff, and I just break down whenever I do, but, I don't know, it's nice to kind of… get it out there."

"It's just a crush," I said soothingly. "You can talk about it; and you don't look like a wreck." I looked ahead as the guys just got to the door. There was a loud belching noise coming from it. "Ugh, can you believe we get so worked up over those things," I sighed, pointing at the boys.

Hermione and I were just walking into Gryffindor Tower, we were still covered in confetti and bogged down with bags of sweets. She had completely forgotten about our conversation earlier and was back to her composed self with a lolly between her lips. We were just chatting about my mother's knitting when there was a loud scream emitted from the Girls' Dormitory.

Hermione turned to me quickly, eyes wide, and instantly we began to sprint up the stairs, bags in hand. There was another scream and we halted quickly in front of my dorm, bunching up the carpet in our stop. Joan was standing on top of a bed, clutching the bed post, absolutely bawling. She wailed again and pointed at a giant magenta turkey on the carpet that was running about in a tizzy.

"What is going on?" Hermione hollered above the chaos. "Do you know how that got here?" she said to me.

I looked on apathetically to the situation. "I have NO idea what you're talking about."

"What do I do?" Joan shrieked.

Hermione sighed, "It's a sodding turkey. It's not going to hurt you…" She took out her wand and pointed it at the turkey. "Stupefy."

The magenta turkey instantly fell over and Hermione went over to the giant thing and began to haul it towards the window, squealing slightly when in twitched in her grasp. "We're not too high up," she stated, "And even if this thing dies on the way down, I don't think anyone would be too sad."

"Hermione!" Joan and I yelled.

"What happened to the girl that was all pro-elf?" I inquired in a loud, hoarse voice.

"It's a sodding turkey!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, "It's head is thirty time smaller than it's body!--How can it have a useful brain in there?" She hoisted the heavy, pink poultry onto the windowsill and nudged it out the window.

Suddenly there was a gigantic squawking as it dropped and we all rushed to the window.

"It's awake already?" Hermione said astonished.

"I didn't know turkeys could fly!" I said in the same tone.

The turkey awkwardly "flew" seven stories or more to the ground, where it ran around even more wildly and made even more noise.

"I can't believe you threw that thing out of the window!" Joan exclaimed.

"I had a bad experience with a turkey; I don't care for them much..." Hermione muttered with nonchalance in spite of the situation.

"Well I had a bad experience with poultry after a certain little "reign of terror" in my first year, but you don't see me throwing them at will out of the seventh story window!"

"IT'S A SODDING TURKEY!" Hermione repeated loudly and stormed out of the room.

Joan ran to her trunk and tugged out her blue diary. "I have to write this down..." she muttered. She rummaged through her junk some more and then paused. "Where's my pen?"

I stood for a minute to watch her search for the pen, which ne'er shall exist in it's previous form again. Hermione was not the only lass doing tricky deeds lately.

After I basked in Joan's frantic confusion and frizzled conduct, I decided to chase after Hermione. Although the turkey occurrence was quite hilarious, there seemed to be a need for an apology. I was at the foot of the stairs when the portrait hole swung open and our blokes came pouring in.

"Man, the weirdest thing just happened, Hermione!" Ron blurted upon seeing her. Seamus was proudly brandishing a black ribbon that said "Most Creative Belcher." I winced. "We were coming back from Hogsmeade, and all of a sudden a giant pink turkey came flying out of the air!" he cried, holding out his arms for effect.

In a loud and edgy voice that was bordering hysteria, Hermione exclaimed, "You don't say!" She put her nose behind of her book in avoidance.

"What's wrong now?" Ron asked, parting himself from the guys and making his way over to Hermione.

"Nothing," she huffed.

"See, when you say it like that I just know you're trying to hide something."

"It's stupid, Ron, let it die!" She lifted up her book again and her eyes wandered across the words without retaining anything. "Why can't you let it die?"

"Uh…"

"LET IT DIE!"

"Is that that Reginald-book you've been reading since forever, I thought you finished it."

"I did finish it."

"Then why bother reading it again?"

"Why bother watching a movie or a television show again after you already seen it?"

"What?"

"Nevermind…" she sighed.

"Aha..." Ron sat on the arm of her chair and put his arm across the top of it. "I see you're having a bad moment, let me give you a bit of advice that me father gave me that's always helped me through the years; it's a little bit of genius that will always help you, no matter what, no matter how bad you feel."

Hermione looked up at Ron with a placid, expecting face. "What?"

"When you put the bread in the basket there's always an ant to ruin the picnic."

There was a short pause.

"What?" she asked in a matter-of-factly. "That doesn't make the least bit of sense."

"Neither do women or life," Ron quoted, hopping of the chair, "That's the last part of what he said." Hermione hit him with her book and brought it back to her nose, smiling now. Ron took her hint and bid goodbye and left towards his friends. My brother, the peacemaker.

A/N: Uh oh, I'm going to get flamed for a short chapter with no Draco, aren't I? Well no matter, all flames will be used to Dobby at the steak

Next Chapter:

- Hermione exposes her turkey-haunted past.

- Another lesson in "How-not-to-get-your-tongue-torn-out"

- Ravenclaw vs. Slythering-g-g

Many thanks to: BlackMystick, SiLvA-423, Violet Spark (you're reviews were so encouraging to read! I'm so used to one line snippets and it was so exciting to read this, it made my day. .), Funnykido, and Mishavay.

Thanks so much, guys, the reviews have totally been helping me. I've notice a general approval of Malfoy's little "I'm not gay!" outburst. I'm thinking of maybe having a little thread of that again in a future chapter. I basically have the whole story line set in stone now, but I'd like to ask: If there are any outlandish Draco/Ginny cliches you would like to see in a future chapter, describe it in a review and I'll try and write it in. We've got a lot of cliches to cover and we's a-movin' fast!