My school is having a snow day. The snow already melted. Actually, it all melted before noon. Just thought you should know.

"Aliiiiiicia," George groggily complained from the pillow on his head, "go to sleep."

It was nearing two am, and Alicia still had the diary Emily had practicly forced on her, and after about fifteen minutes of deliberation, she had opened the book.

"Shhhh," Alicia hissed, her face moving closer to the book, not believing what she was reading.

There were gaps between entries, and obvious information missing. But she miraculously wrote down plenty of details of her foster home. She hadn't moved around, which some would call lucky, but from the sound of the house, Katie wasn't. She called it the Pink Rot, and as she described it, pink on the outside, rotting on the inside. She only consitantly mentioned one name from the house, besides the Mother, was Jordan. Jordan's address wasn't mentioned, and neither were any really details. Merely "Jordan and I did this..." or "Jordan and I did that..." This and that tended to be illegal, but described as quite fun.

"What are you reading?" George mumbled, lifting up his head, and looking at the book, squinting the in light.

"Nothing." Alicia answered, anxiously turning the page to find out more. The entries were vague, talking of wild parties and the many males that came with them.

"Is that what I think it is?" Goerge questioned, his eyes finally adjusting to the light.

"No!" Alicia insisted, pulling the diary out of the reach of him.

"You're reading Katie's diary! You are!" this woke George right up, making him as awake as Alicia.

"So?" Alicia hissed, still not letting George see the book.

"When Fred and I tried reading her diary in school, it was nothing but boring dribble."

"That's because she had a decoy, she told us after she saw the two of you looking at it. She thought it was hilarious."

"Nu uh."
"Yeah huh."
"Nu uh!"
"Yeah huh!"

"Prove it!"
"Look, it mentions it here!" Alicia insisted, rapidly flipping pages back to prove that she was right and thrusting it in the face of George.

Who grabbed the diary, and jumped out of the bed, running out of the room. Alicia took off after him, not believing that she had just fallen for that trick.

"What are you gonna do to get it back?" George taunted, standing up on their couch in the living room. Very mature.

"I'm gonna go make eggs." Alicia replied, walking away as if she were not in fact being torn apart at the moment dying to know what Katie had been up to.

"Naked?" George asked, his eyebrows going up as he stepped off the couch towards the kitchen where Alicia stood, winking at him.

Twenty minutes later, now missing every stitch of clothing, George and Alicia heard a high pitched ringing sound.

"What is that?" Alicia asked, looking up, her brow furrowed.

"I think it's that sell-your-own telly fone Dad got us all for Christmas..."

"You'd better go get it."

"Woman, you cannot be serious."

"It's two thirty in the morning! There has to be a good reason for calling!"

"Yes! Someone's rude and doesn't deserve to talk to me!"

"Go!"

George less than happily got up and went for his cellular, or as he thought it was called, sell-your-own telly fone, as Alicia pulled on a few more clothes than nothing.

Once a bit more acceptable, she followed after George, who seemed to be having a difficult time conversing with whoever had called.

"Please! Calm down! PLEASE!" He was yelling into the phone, and Alicia could hear a muffled voice crying hystericly into the phone.

'Who is it?" Alicia mouthed, but was only given a raised finer of waiting.

"Mum, put Dad on the phone!" George kept insisting.

"Put some clothes on!" Alicia hissed, hoping that her hissing wouldn't be heard.

"Why?" George demanded, covering the mouth piece.

"Because you're talking to your mum! She'll know!"

"What?--fine, bring me some pants."

Alicia wandered back into the kitchen, wondering which Weasley had gotten poor Molly so upset, yet having a feeling that she already knew. It took some time, but Alicia eventually found George's pajama pants on top of the fridge. It took even more time for her to get the pants down from the fridge, but after some crafty cabinet climbing, it all worked out.

"Okay, Dad, we'll be there." Alicia heard George finish on the telly fone.

"We'll be where?" she asked, tossing him ihis pants, which gained her a cheeky grin.

"At a brunch at my parents tomorrow. Mum was in hysterics because Ginny and Harry finally broke the news of my poor, innocent sister being deflowered by that wicked boy."

Much to George's dismay, Alicia snorted.

"What?" He questioned, "Why are you snorting? What's wrong with my little sister? Choose your words carefully, I'm a very violent man."

"Well then, according to our drunken confessions, Ginny has three more notches on her belt than I do."

"You're a liar!"

"I'm not! About this anyway."

"I'm going to have nightmares, you know. Lots of vivid nightmares of horrible boys stealing flowers from my baby sister. Actualy flowers, mind you. I'm not a pervert."

"Your baby sister who's going to have a baby of her own."

"Stop talking!"

"Make me!"

"Fine! Off to bed with you!"

And with that George lifted Alicia and slung her over his shoulder with ease. Alicia quickly vocalized her displeasure with a delightful "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"