Sugarquill

Well, today was rather uneventful. No, wait—there's something wrong with Angelina. Well, not really wrong, but she's not herself. I think she may be mad at me, and she's paying George sort of…special attention, though I seem to be the only one that's noticed this. Why is beyond me.

At breakfast, she hardly spoke to me. She just came and sat down next to George, not a glance in this direction. I felt something weird in my stomach around then, but I figured it had to do with the Puking Pastilles aftereffect. But Angelina kept laughing at all Fred's jokes and all. It was a bit odd, but again, I seem to be alone in that assessment.

We had care of Magical Creatures first today. I was looking forward to this class before we came back to school, but as of night one I lost some of that. See, Hagrid's gone. No doubt he's on some business for the Order, but what! Ugh, it's horrible not to know, and they never mentioned him at meetings so the Extendable Ears couldn't even give us a little feedback on that. Anyway, we were studying mokes today, and I remembered a good deal because we're thinking of using them for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

"Today class," said Professor Grubbly-Plank, "We are going to be studying mokes. Who can tell me what a moke is?"

And then, who should raise her hand but Angelina. And she gave the perfect answer, too: Silver-green lizards upto ten inches in length that shrink when strangers approach them. Well, she said something along the lines of that, anyway. But what annoyed me was that Professor Grubbly-Plank didn't give her any points for it, but she gave Alicia TEN for knowing that the most valuable part of a moke is its skin (used for handbags, but George and I may be aiming higher)! The injustice, I tell you.

We spent the rest of the lesson studying the mokes that Grubbly-Plank brought in for us, but it was hard as they kept shrinking when we came close. The good thing, though, is that she says they'll get used to us in a few weeks and then we can maybe learn more about them.

The interesting thing about our free time during this lesson was that Angelina came and sat next to George. George didn't seem to notice anything; he just kept talking to me about the mokes and whether or not we could use their skin to help vanish things—but then Angelina and Alicia started chatting about the Keeper tryouts, Angelina doing so rather loudly. George and I joined the conversation, but this is what I got out of it:

Alicia: I hope we get someone at least half as good as Oliver was.

Me: (clear voice) Yeah. Hey, Angelina, how many people are coming, anyway?"

Angelina: yes, and we could use someone younger, maybe some new blood, I just hope it's not someone who won't be committed to the team enough, though…

George: Yeah, like that Vicky girl who only plays Quidditch when she doesn't have Charms Club. She can't play half-time Keeper!

Angelina: Exactly! I hope there are other, more committed people at tryouts.

Me: (slightly louder, but clearly audible) Yeah, how many people are trying out?

Angelina: but the question then becomes whether or not they're good…"

George: (in a semi-whisper) How many people're coming to try out?'

Angelina: Oh, about six or seven.

See? She completely ignored me! What could be making her do that? I mean, it's not like I care or anything, but she has no reason to just go and…and….

Let's just move on to Potions, shall we?

I partnered up with Trish, as she's smarter than Alicia and Snape wanted us to pair boy-girl today. I think he just wants to keep me away from George, because he knows we'll get inventing. But it's not our fault that the Extendable Ears happened to trip him up and hear him curse, loud and clear…

Focus. Sorry. But in any case, this lesson really got me riled up, and not just because we were doing the Draught of Adrenaline, but because Angelina was working with George! Not just that, but she was laughing at all his jokes again, and showing him how to slice the mandrake roots…'How many beetle eyes in a dragon's eye? As many as there are in a dragon's stomach!' Ugh! Wait. WHY DO I CARE!

Anyway, Trish and I did pretty well, up till a certain point, that is. See, I was sort of…looking at Angelina and George, and I happened to put in one too many beetle eyes. The result: Let's just say Trish might need a new cauldron…

Now, the rest of the day's lessons were uneventful, but dinner was rather fun. Mainly because I got to watch the REAL Angelina yelling at poor Harry about his detention with Umbridge the Oaf. Luckily, there was no stupid smile she flashed George, thank goodness.

I should probably go to bed now, but the thing is, George and I er…borrowed a moke from Care of Magical Creatures, and it seems to have misplaced itself…

I've always loved Fridays, as anyone who knows me can say, but this one was special in my opinion. See, not only did we not have to suffer through Umbridge's class, but we didn't get any homework and…Keeper tryouts.

Ah, yes, I don't think I'll ever forget these tryouts. Never, never did George and I think of it. Of all the people in Gryffindor that could've tried out, the one that did was…Ron.

I'm not even joking, either. He really tried out. And what's more, he got the spot! But he didn't completely earn it. Here, just…let me start from the beginning.

Well, George and I walked out onto the pitch at five, prompt as is our way. Angelina was there already, looking artfully nervous as she walked back and forth chewing her nails. Katie and Alicia were sitting on the grass, watching her doubtfully. She kept saying, "Where are they!" and shaking George very hard when she did. Funny, she barely looked at me.

Well, after about five minutes of that, we could see six people walking onto the pitch together. The first three were a group of second years (who looked positively terrified of us…I love having that effect on people), and as unbelievably as this may seem, they were actually reading the handbook when they signed up on the list Angelina had. George and I didn't even bother to smother our laughter; we'd snorted so loud when one of them asked how many Quaffles there were that some sparks flew out our nostrils.

Next came Vicky Frobisher and Geoffrey Hooper, chatting animatedly as they approached us. I'm not sure, but I think they're a couple now. Quidditch can bring people together, you know.

And then, bringing up the rear, was none other than our ickle brother. Ron wasn't looking at us; he seemed thoroughly intrigued by a grass stain on his shoe. Well, at that point, George and I laughed so hard that we practically fell over each other. Luckily we sort of stopped each other from ending up in peals of laughter on the ground, but only just.

Ron tried to walk past us but I grabbed his arm before he could.

"You're trying out?" I asked in a thick voice; George and I were still laughing. "Why?"

"I'm not that bad!" said Ron indignantly, his ears going red. "I mean, you always had me play Keeper when you all practiced!"

"That's because we're Beaters and Charlie was a Seeker, you dolt," said George, managing to stand up straight at long last. "And even though Bill was reserve Chaser he won every game he played."

Ron's ears turned a deeper shade of red, taking his face with them. "Still," he said. "You never let Ginny play….and I'm still trying out, whether you like it or not."

That wiped the grins off our faces. The cheeky little—

"All right," said Angelina, gathering the group of applicants in a huddle around her. The second years hurriedly hid the handbook, looking eager to hear every one of Angelina's words. I didn't listen; I was thinking about how Mum would react if Ron made the team. He'd be the third Weasley on it, and Mum would be Oh-so-proud because she bought the broom that did it. Eurgh.

The huddle broke up and one by one everyone tried out. Geoffrey Hooper was quite good, but not brilliant. The second years were laughable, frankly, and they were a perfect example of why even professionals don't use the handbook. Vicky Frobisher was excellent except for a few goals, but according to Angelina she has 'other commitments' like Charms' Club so she can't do it. Really, if you can't give it your all, why bother showing up for try-outs? Some people. Oh, I almost forgot. Ron. He was quite good considering that he only played with his brothers every summer and during the holidays. He was almost as good as Geoffrey, but not as good as Vicky. In any case, Angelina had to pick him because Geoffrey's in the Muggle Studies Active Community Service Society, so he can't make it to all the practices. Dad'll be glad we didn't tear him away from that.

So, it was Ron. By the time try-outs were over it was dark, but you could see that Ron was beside himself with glee even without any light. The second years were mumbling dejectedly and Vicky and Geoffrey were still chatting as if they were on a moonlit stroll. Ron walked up to me and George.

"So," he said proudly. "I did it. I know I wasn't great, but I did it." We grinned and clapped him on the back.

"Not bad, little bro," said George. "But you realize that if you miss even one goal you'll be besmirching our names as well."

Somehow, I don't think that inspired Ron with much confidence, but still, he didn't show it.

"Right," I said clapping my hands together. "You know what this means. Party in the common room! Come on!"

We marched back up to the castle with a detour to the kitchen, then the festivities began. The party went on past midnight, I think. I saw Hermione fall asleep in a corner, though, hope Ron didn't. And Harry went up to bed early, too. Honestly I don't think our dear brother noticed, though. He was too caught up in being the center of attention and trying not to slop butterbeer down his front.

That was all the eventful stuff that happened today, really. Wait—no. During break I think George figured out that Angelina's been flirting with him. This expression of dawning sort of came over his face and he looked shocked, frankly. I pulled him away before he could make a fool of himself in front of her by telling him I'd earned ten sickles for some Wheezes off a third year in Hufflepuff. Angelina looked confused, but slightly put out all the same. I don't like to see that look on her face when she is. I felt like I'd hurt her somehow and, well…I know that probably sounds really odd, but what I mean is that…George and I may play jokes, but we're not heartless, insensitive prats or anything. We can feel guilt, and I felt a little then. Of course it was much too small a thing to even think aboutshe probably doesn't care—but then why am I?