A/N: I really hate to say it, but I think I will anyway. You know what it's called when you have more or less 45 regular readers (a few of you have it on favourites but not alerts and vice versa) but onlysix review? Sad. Uh huh. I was going to say something else, but I don't want to sound bitter. Me? Bitter? No way! Really, I'm not… ;P

On to a brighter note, I've been meaning to say this since chapter eighteen, but I keep forgetting. I promised Sidney that I'd mention it was she who was responsible for reminding me to write about the drunken incident. It was also she who made sure that you guys wouldn't have to suffer through a chapter that had no relation to what little plot I have, and was, honestly, a very boring idea. So this chapter was originally going to be chapter 24, but I have scrapped the other one. Trust me, it was for your benefit. :D

January 9th

"What are you doing?" My voice echoes off the cold stone floors, and Fred, George and Lee all look up in surprise. I walk closer and crouch down, moving Lee's arm that is only partially covering the parchment. It's a list of some sort, and I raise an eyebrow as I wait for them to explain.

"It's… for a birthday," Fred explains hesitantly. He glances towards George, then nods. God, it's creepy how they seem to read each other's thoughts and stuff. Weird.

"Who's birthday is even around here?" I blurt out, then remember that it's Lee's birthday in something like five days. "Then why are you getting Lee to plan his own birthday list?"

Lee grins. "Nice to know you remember it."

George rolls his eyes at the both of us. "Get a room. Nah, it's for Snape. We thought, 'well, he doesn't have any friends.' So us, being the kind, generous people we are, decided to give him a surprise party."

"It's not a surprise if he knows it's his birthday," I point out. It's a bit chilly in the hallway, even though it's practically in the middle of the castle, so no wind could have come in even if there was wind outside.

Fred lets out a bark of laughter, then looks towards Lee. "She," he tells him, pointing towards me, "is just so clueless."

Personally, I think it's a rather mean thing to say about your friend and I tell him so. "And 'she' has a name," I remind him waspishly. I plonk myself down. Now that I know about the scheme I might as well help out. I'll get Angelina and Alicia in, as well, although it doesn't seem to have occurred to the guys that if they don't have us in on it, they'll fail.

I mean, that is really sexist and all, but it's true! I can't name one time that they've successfully avoided detection unless Alicia, Ange or I were there to help them out. Apart from that time they tried to put rose-water above the potions door to see if Snape really was a vampire, or that time they sprinkled garlic in all the food, again to see if Snape was a vampire, and so then everyone had garlic breath, or that time…

"Yeah," Lee agrees nonchalantly. "I know." I scoff at him. I so am not clueless. I know a lot more about a lot of stuff than him. I mean, I just can't think of any right now…

Anyway. Back to the point. "Why are you wasting valuable resources on Snape, of all people?" I mean, call me a stick in the mud or whatever, but there are way better people to give surprise parties to. Like me. I'll have to make sure that when my birthday rolls around in a few months, to give my friends ever so obvious hints about the fact that I want a surprise party. But then it wouldn't be a surprise, I guess…

"Because," George smirks. "Can you imagine the look on his face when the whole class starts singing happy birthday and blowing streamers and stuff?" He sighs in contentment as he envisions the image. "It'll be great!"

I have to admit, it does sound like heaps of fun. But seeing as how Alicia's not here to think this out thoroughly, I guess I'll have to do it. I mean, someone has to think about something other than Snape's face… eck. "And just how are you going to convince the Slytherins to do that?" I ask primly.

Fred rolls his eyes and waves a hand. "Details aren't important. Besides," he adds as an afterthought. "You're beginning to sound like Alicia."

"Gee, thanks," I mutter sarcastically. I look down at the list. Sparklers… streamers… balloons… cake… "You're actually going to get the house elves to make him a cake?" I ask sceptically. I mean, call me scabby or whatever, but that's going a bit too far. I bet Snape's never received a cake for his birthday in his life! Unless it was made by his mum. But, ugh. Imagining Snape's mum is not something I particularly want to do at the moment.

"No," Lee says, getting to his feet and hauling me up with him. I'm surprised he's not thrown backwards by the weight. "We're going to make one."

"But why?" I argue, standing up beside him and brushing all the ink from the parchment off me, and only succeeding in smearing it across my white jumper. "We'll probably-"

Fred grins suddenly, and holds up a vial with a strange green coloured liquid in it, oozing as he shakes it. "Because you two might have to make some, ahem, adjustments to it." He half bows to the non-existent applause (he's sitting on the ground, so there are limitations). "I know, you don't have to say it; I'm a genius."

"Lunatic, more like it," I mutter under my breath, then raise my voice incredulously. "You want us to drug our professor? As in, Professor Snape, who if he ever finds out about it will personally skin us alive?"

"Naw," George grins. "It's 'gainst the rules, remember?"

I glare at him. "And you think that makes him any less keen to decapitate us and then eat our limbs raw?" Yeah, I'm kind of going for the gruesome bit. Hopefully the image of Snape tucking into our bloodied and disembodied legs will knock some sense into their heads.

"I think I'm going to be sick," I hear Lee groan next to me. Hehe. I can't handle anything to do with my stomach; he can't handle anything to do with blood. I guess that rules out Healer for his career list.

"As if," Fred scoffs. "I mean, he's an evil bastard, but he wouldn't eat us. Decapitating us, though, I'm not so sure…"

I scowl. "Well he didn't have a problem with threatening it after I handed in my potions essay a day late. Then he vanished it! Just like that! Poof!" I use hand gestures to punctuation it.

"A vanishing spell doesn't really sound like that," Lee says calmly. He thinks it's a joke. Just because he's a little potions brain doesn't mean we all are. Sheesh.

I glare at him. "And you would know?" I like to consider myself an expert on such things. After all, you wouldn't believe the number of times I've had my homework/class work/major-important-essays vanished in front of my very own eyes for one reason or another. Seriously. It's enough to make me fail… fortunately I haven't yet, although there's a strong chance I'll fail my potions O.W.L. In a way I'd kind of be glad if I did, that way I wouldn't have to take it next year.

"Yes," Fred answers, pointing a finger at Lee whilst cracking up, "remember that time Quirrel vanished your essay right in front of your nose after you set it on fire, spilt a pot of ink on it and gotten it stuck in the dinosaur skeleton?"

Lee grimaced. "Only too well."

I have to snicker aloud. It was a classic moment in the history of Leroy Barnabas Jordan the third. He'd been having a horrible day, because he'd lost his wand and his mother had sent him his dad's old one. So he kept getting all the spells wrong because it was shorter than he was used to, or something. And by the end of the day, when we were due to have Defence Against the Dark Arts, he was in a really crappy mood.

So he wasn't really bothering to say the words properly or anything, and somehow he managed to set his essay alight, knock over a pot of ink… And I might have had something to do with it rising in the air by itself and resting strategically on the neck of the dinosaur, and then tying itself into a bow. But he doesn't know that. Eventually Quirrel just vanished it because it was indecipherable.

Lee shoots me a dirty look. "Like you haven't had a bad day," he says hotly. "Remember-"

"I think we should go make that cake now," I interrupt. I really don't want to take a trip down memory lane at the moment, if ever. Too many scary incidences.

Fred nods in agreement. "We'll get reinforcements and then we'll go get all the other stuff. Just don't forget to put the bottle in the cake. I don't care what it looks like, as long as it looks appetising enough to Snape."

"Yeah, in other words we have to put human remains on the icing," I murmur to Lee who has to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. Fred and George take this kind of thing very seriously, and the results will be disastrous if you muck it up.

"March on, troops!" George cries, pointing an arm out in front of him. We oblige, but after a moment he calls, "wrong way! You're going the wrong way!"

I glare at him as we pass back by the twins. He could have told us that earlier, before we inadvertently slipped in a pile of muck that I really don't want to know the origins of.

"God, that's weird," I comment as Lee tickles the pear in the right spot and it starts rolling around in the painting. "Whoever came up with that idea had a bit of a dirty mind. They probably entered the kitchens just so they could tickle the pear and-" I don't get to finish, because the house elves suddenly swarm around us, practically begging us to give them a job.

Now, I know house elf slavery is cruel, and I am only too aware of that due to various organisations and protests going on around the school, ie. S.P.E.W. But if it makes them happy, who are we to complain? Us fat, lazy humans don't have to do the work and the house elves are content. It's a win-win situation.

So I debate about whether or not to entrust the elves to make our cake. I mean, I am the lousiest cake maker ever, as I demonstrated one time at Alicia's house when her muggle parents were out and I almost burnt down their house. Believe me, my parents were none too pleased about the bill. But then I remember what Fred and George will do to us if we disobey them, (like put us in the middle of the Black Lake again, only without the mattress) and quickly decide that we can, in fact, do it ourselves.

"We want to make a cake. Um, please?" Lee adds, when the elf in front of him looks about ready to cry in horror. As if the idea of us doing manual labour is unbearable. Well, that's sweet.

"No! The misses and mister must wait here whilst Binky makes the cake!" The elf squeaks, and runs off furiously, no doubt in search of a cake tin. I can't resist the urge to snort at the name. Who even names these poor creatures, anyway? It's worse than my family, practically!

"Wait!" I yell after it, so desperately that it stops abruptly and turns around. I mean, I am practically shaking in fear, thinking of all the mean, cruel, horrible things Fred and George will do to us if they find out it isn't our cake. Besides, we can't just tell a house elf to add some mysterious potion to the cake, can we? It's not like they can lie to a teacher or anything. Then again, come to think of it, neither can I. Whatever. I'm still a better option than 'Binky'.

"Is the misses wanting something else?" It asks hopefully, large eyes blinking up at me. You know how they're so short? It's practically up to my shoulder, and it's not like it's the tallest elf in the kitchen, if you know what I mean. Just another advantage of being short, I guess- being able to see eye-to-eye with house elves- literally.

"I was wondering if you would be so kind as to get us the materials to make the cake?" I say, in as kind a tone as I can muster. It must have worked, too, because all of sudden Lee starts choking next to me. Prick. Just because he doesn't know I can be nice once in a while.

The elf still looks kind of downcast, but it says, "Certainly, misses. Right away!"

I wish it would stop calling me 'misses'. I mean, who does it think I'm married to? Lee? Eck. That'd be a scary sight. I guarantee only one of us would be emerging alive after a day, and it would be me. I also wonder if the elves think it's rude to call them an 'it'. But I don't know what it is! Is it rude to ask? I ask Lee, but he says I should probably refrain from asking until a better time when there isn't about fifty of them around us each carrying a sharp utensil around. It's a good point.

"Here you go, misses!" Binky returns with a huge cake tin and the assorted ingredients. I pick up one; looks like it'll be a blueberry cake, then. Oh well. Fred and George didn't specify what type of cake it had to be- just a particular ingredient that had to be added.

"Thank you," I say graciously, elbowing Lee in his side as he starts shaking with laughter again. It puts the ingredients on a small table next to us, but then just steps back and stares at us. Particularly me. Hello, you do not know the meaning of creepy until a house elf stares at you for like five minutes straight. Disturbing.

"Er, Lee and I will just make this now," I say uncomfortably, wondering if there's some sort of formality I should be observing, such as releasing it from my service, or whatever.

Binky blinks, but doesn't say anything. Just stares first at me with it's big blue eyes, then swivels its gaze to stare at Lee.

"Okay then." Lee shrugs and turns his back on it, and after hesitating for a moment I do the same. What if it's a sin to be rude to a house elf? Any minute now Dumbledore will come in with a staff and strike me down with a lightning bolt.

"Okay." I look sideways at Lee; he has about as much idea how to make a cake as me. In other words: no idea at all. "Well, did Fred or George give you a recipe?"

Lee shakes his head, his dreadlocks narrowly missing hitting me in the head (if only due to the fact that they can't even reach the top of my head…). "All they gave me was the potion."

"Well then," I say cheerfully, "we'll just have to improvise then, won't we?" I pick up a few eggs and chuck them into the bowl. It's huge; two feet in diameter, at least. After pausing for a moment, I decide to chuck in the whole carton of eggs, just to be sure.

"How about some of this?" Lee suggests, holding up some powdery stuff. It's white, so I guess it goes in the cake mixture. My mum never really let me help her cook when I was younger, on account of that time when I was three and somehow this really big cake that was due to go to some important function ended up having a whole pile of my hair in it. Not to mention the lollypop that she discovered after it had been cooked. Whoops.

"Chuck it in," I tell him, putting in the entire packet of sugar. A cake can never be too sweet, can it? I also decide to add some more white stuff, oil and vanilla shit that, incidentally, smells like vanilla. I thrust it under Lee's nose, and he recoils so suddenly that he practically falls over Binky, who's still standing right behind us, staring at the back of our heads with it's piercing blue eyes.

"You can, um, go back to your… thing… now." Lee tells it solemnly, struggling to find the right words. But it just stands there, staring at him. It's a bit like Norman Norbody with me, I suppose, except it's made a tiny bit weirder with the fact that it's a house elf, and as far as I know it's a boy one at that. Lee's so dumbfounded at the fact that a house elf seems so taken with him that his jaw drops… And the huge splodge of cake mixture I throw into it leaves him spluttering.

"What'd you do that for?" He yells, spitting the disgusting brown sludge all over the elf. It's like hail, just pelting the elf on the head. It doesn't even blink, for God's sake! It doesn't flinch, either, even as it sees this one particularly large ball coming right towards it…

I shrug. "I felt like it." Then I grab another glob- it's so sticky that I practically have to shake my hand just to get it loose- and smear it all over his face. Or at least I would have, if it weren't so far away. Instead I only manage to get his neck, but that's okay too, because it's still damage.

"Okay, Bell, you asked for it," he growls, still shaking the glop out of his hair. I swear, he cares more about his hair than I care about mine. I mean, sure, the sticky stuff is slightly gross, what with all the lumps and all in it. But it's just cake mixture. Or at least, it's supposed to be. I'm not sure if that's how it's turned out, though. Then he smears a handful of it right into my hair. Instead of blonde, my hair is now a sort of muddy brown, not unlike something you would find on the nature strip.

"Ew!" Okay, so maybe I do care just a tad about whether it gets in my hair or not. I can't help it. It's like this in-built gene or something.

Then we start having an all-out war, using cake rocks as ammunition. I even manage to get a couple in his face, which is a pretty amazing feat if you consider the fact that I practically have to strain my neck in order to throw it that high. He gets a lot more rock cakes on me, though. Whoever said that guys always let the girls win are wrong- or Lee has clearly never heard of being 'gentlemanly'. Is that even a word? Whatever. Even if it is, I doubt Lee would even know what it means.

I've backed Lee up against the cake tin, which is actually only a disadvantage for me seeing as how it means he can just dip his hand into the 'batter' (I'm not quite sure if it deserves the title) and slug it at me. I, on the other hand, have to scrape up the bits left over from old cake-mix-balls and make them into new cake-mix-balls.

So, seeing as how I'm being pelted and very thoroughly losing, I do the only thing I can. I tackle him.

Remember how I said the cake tin was at least two feet in diameter? Yeah, it's a hell of a lot deeper that that, and so we both end up in it. Remember how I also said it was so sticky that I practically had to shake the blood out of my hand in order to actually get it to fall off my hand? Yeah, it's kind of working like glue. In other words, Lee and I are stuck. In a cake.

I mean, yeah, an uncooked cake, but still.

"Look at it this way," I say to Lee, who's still struggling to get out of it, even though I'm half on him, half in the cake, "I bet no one else in the entire school can say they've been stuck in a cake."

Lee takes a moment to stop his desperate escape and glares at me. "Yeah, and I bet they've never been chased by a cat that looks like Lockhart, been stuck on a mattress in the middle of a lake and been befriended by the Giant Squid or have set off the school alarm system whilst drunk. I also bet they've never had-"

"Shut up," I say with an exaggerated sigh, and kiss him. I mean, how else is he ever going to shut up? Just go on and on and on about how I've made his life a living hell, and how he wishes that he never met me, blah blah blah. I've heard it all before, from a rather wide assortment of random people. Believe me, there's nothing that hasn't been said about my personality- and it wasn't all sunshine and chocolate cake, either.

"I'm telling you, George, of course they'll have- oh, eww!" Someone exclaims, interrupting us. I squint with one eye up in the general direction of the voice. It's Alicia; apparently the twins thought it wise to involve both Angelina and Alicia. A good choice, too, seeing as how Lee and I haven't exactly made much progress with the cake, being, um, busy and all.

"You're making out on Snape's birthday cake!" Alicia points out, clearly horrified.

"We weren't making out," Lee scoffs, rolling his eyes. "We're trying to get out of this stupid cake."

George can't help himself. He starts sniggering, sending the house elves around him scuttling away. His sniggers generally sound more like snorts, and are often very alarming. "Yeah," he mutters. "You look so innocent too."

God. Just because he has a dirty mind. "A little help here?" I ask sarcastically, as they make no move to help us out of the mixture. Alicia moves forward, her eyebrows still practically meeting her hairline, and grabs my hand, attempting to haul me out.

I'm eventually out of the cake mix, but not before Alicia's fallen over with the exertion. "God, Katie," she says, staring at me in surprise, "lay off the chocolate, why don't you?"

Bitch. I don't even eat that much. I mean, apart from her secret stash and all. Just because I only have to look at a doughnut and then I gain five pounds. Stupid skinny twit-

Crash! It seems that when George ever so kindly tried to help Lee out of the mixing bowl, he somehow managed to knock the bottle of green potion into it. "Shit!" He cries, making an overwrought gesture of helplessness.

I raise an eyebrow. "So? It's still in the cake, isn't it?" Looking down at my fingers, I amuse myself as I press my fingers together, observing with interest that they stick to each other stubbornly, and I can't actually pull them apart.

"It's supposed to be carefully added," George explains. "Not just shoved all in. And… why is there an egg carton in here?" He looks up at us curiously.

Oops. Well, how was I supposed to know you were supposed to add them all individually? "It's not like I'm sort of professional cake maker," I tell him defensively.

Alicia rolls her eyes, and looks at the sludge pointedly. "We can tell," she says bluntly.

A sudden beeping noise emits from George's wand, and he glares at us. "Anybody happen to know a cooking charm?" He asks. Judging from his expression, it isn't happy news. "We have to go now," he commands.

Okay. You know how Oliver is like, a tyrant on the Quidditch Pitch? That's how Fred and George are when it comes to playing jokes or pulling a prank that will humiliate, anger or aggravate someone. They're like freaking dictators! They can't just let it go. Everyone thinks that the Weasley twins are laid back and stuff, but guess what, people? They're not!

"Binky knows a cooking charm!" The elf that's been staring at Lee for the last half an hour announces suddenly, to the immediate relief of George and apprehension of both Lee and I. Who knows what it will do? It might put a love potion in there, for God's sake! I don't particularly fancy the idea of drooling after Snape for a week. That might just be more than enough to make me crack.

"Why thank you, er, Binky," George says nicely to it, wrinkling his nose at the name. Ha- so George isn't incapable of being nice to anything, as I had previously suspected.

The elf just snaps it's pointy little fingers, and hey presto! We have a cake! And okay, it has various egg shells and bits of glass from the potion bottle sticking out of it, but I'm sure we can pass it off as icing sugar. At least, the Slytherins will believe us, I suppose.

"Follow me, privates!" George bellows, pointing a finger towards the door. Lee, Alicia and I all struggle to pick up the cake, which Binky has generously decorated with red and gold icing, at Lee's urging.

Let me tell you, hauling a cake that feels as if it weighs a hundred pounds out of the kitchen door? Yeah, it's freaking hard. So I can't really be blamed when I trip, and my bit of the cake hits the ground with an astonishing thud. But hey, it's all okay, because of the fact that the cake is so hard, it doesn't even break. Just… mooshes a little.

"Bell!" George yells, turning to look over his shoulder at the bedraggled party of cake-carriers. "Why do you always have to be so clumsy?"

I smirk back at him. "Have I ever told you about that time I was at the Burrow and I fell down the stairs into Percy's bedroom-"

"Okay!" George says, raising a hand and looking distinctly frightened. "I get it. Just try not to do it again," he says, glaring at me.

"Aye aye, Cap'n," I grin. It's just so satisfying winding him up. It's satisfying winding anyone up, really. I get more satisfaction out of it than is probably healthy, come to think of it.

George ends up leading us to the dungeons, which, even I have to admit, probably isn't the smartest idea of all time considering the fact that Snape's office is just down the hallway and we're in the midst of Slytherin territory. Not the safest place to be when you're a Gryffindor, nonetheless.

As Angelina and Fred have demonstrated. Because when we come across them, they're huddled against the wall, rocking softly back and forth and drawing their knees up under their chins. They stare up at us with wide, frightened eyes. It's amusing really, because I've never really seen either of them at a loss for words, and here they are practically scared out of their wits.

"What happened?" Alicia asks shrilly, glancing around, practically terrified and all she's seen is the results of what's happened to them. I, on the other hand, am finding it more entertaining than horrifying.

Fred looks up mutely. His body convulses in a shudder, and he slowly drags a hand up towards the general direction of Snape's office. Then, as if the memory is too scarring to deal with, he quickly draws it back around his legs and rocks back and forth again.

Lee frowns. "Um, Snape?" He guesses.

"Way to go, Captain Obvious," I snort. What else would have terrified them like this? Hahaha. Maybe they saw him undressing… Ew. That just doesn't even warrant thinking about.

It's Angelina who finds her voice first. "He-" she croaks, making a helpless gesture in the air. "We saw… we saw him… and… her…"

"Bloody hell," I snap in a disturbing imitation of Ron, slapping her on the cheek. Well, it works in all those movies Alicia makes me watch. Maybe it'll work in real life.

She doesn't even seem to notice. Which I'm kind of grateful for, because I was already tensed and ready for flight. Angelina doesn't respond kindly to such mistreatment. Even poking her in the back during a really boring class can earn you a broken foot. And then you're forced to let it heal on it's own, or get your mum to send you some sort of potion for it, because you're scared of what the nurse will do if you go to her and say your best friend broke your foot.

"They were-" she breaks off, gesturing wildly. "Against the wall… just there." The hoarse whisper of her voice doesn't disguise the terror, and even I lean in, eager to hear more. "And then, we saw who it was-"

This is it. The moment of reckoning. The moment we find out who it is that did the disastrous deed.

"-It was Professor Sinistra! And Snape!" Her voice has risen to hysterical levels, and she can't go on. Alicia bends down to comfort her, and all of a sudden Fred speaks up, taking over the story.

"She was giving him what he thought was a bloody good birthday present," he snickers, then sobers as the image comes back into his mind and he shudders again.

I have to shudder too. What a thing to see! God, I wouldn't be surprised if they were scarred for life and ended up in the mental ward of St Mungos before they're twenty.

It's Lee who breaks the silence first. "Well, are we still going ahead with our plan?" He asks, determinedly up-beat. He shows Fred and Ange the cake. "Anyway," he adds, checking his watch- since when does he wear a watch? - "We have potions in approximately ten point nine minutes."

"Give me that," I snap, and practically snap his wrist so I can get it an angle where I can see the watch face. "We have potions in…" And yeah, it does take me a while to tell the time. After all, what's the point of learning if you can just get someone else to tell you? It's not as if people look at you all weird when you go, 'Excuse me, sir, but I don't know how to tell the time. Can you please tell me?'

At least, they didn't look at me weird that time I said I couldn't tell when I was eight. I'm not sure, maybe it's changed now.

"We have potions in four minutes," I announce with a sigh. I mean, now that I know what I do… We might be in for a rather interesting potions lesson.

"Battle Stations, men!" George shouts, because even he can see that his brother is in dire need of normality. I just raise an eyebrow, and then he goes, "And women."

Okay. So the final plan is: Lee and I will miraculously produce the cake when Snape is all settled after having removed himself from the company of Professor Sinistra to teach. George and Alicia will decorate the room as quickly as they can, and light the candles. We weren't going to let Fred and Ange do anything, because after their traumatising experience, who could really trust them not to just hex him permanently there and then? But then Alicia relented, and they have to organise the students to sing 'happy birthday' to him. Don't know how they'll manage the Slytherins, but hey, that's their problem, not mine.

And then Snape will be so happy because of the endorphins flowing through his blood, and his party, that he'll forget to give us detention and even forget to set us any work. Well, that's the plan in my head, anyway. Not too sure about anyone else… No one can call me naïve, can they?

So after a while, more students wander down to the classroom to wait for Snape. After a few mutterings of, 'Where is he, anyway?' (To which the six of us respond by nudging each other and almost puking) Snape appears, and doesn't even notice the rather large cake, which we're all trying to hide.

George and Alicia push through first, trying to discreetly decorate the room in scarlet and gold. I mean, we're banking on the fact that Snape's brain is too caught up with thoughts of Sinistra to even notice our little escapades.

Then come Lee and I, somehow managing to smuggle the cake in whilst Snape's back is turned to the board. Fred and Angelina come in last, filling the students in as they all file in. From what I can tell, most of them agree as long as we start it. Which, you know, is fine. Just because none of them have backbones or anything. Sheesh.

So finally Ange and Fred come in, and the door shuts behind them. I give George a wink, and that's the signal as Snape turns around. But just before he does, Alicia looks at me, horrified. "Katie," she hisses, "what happened to your face?"

I'm at a loss to what she means. Then, as I itch at my face, it occurs to me.

Those blueberries? Yeah, they weren't blueberries.

I'm allergic to blackberries. Like, way allergic.

Shit.

But in that instance, Snape turns around, and so Lee and I produce the cake as everyone bellows, "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, you smell like a monkey, and you look like one too! Hip, hip, hooray!"

And, okay, the look on Snape's face? Yeah, it ain't pretty.

A/N: So the next chapter will be on the same day, about the after-effects of Snape's birthday party. They're not necessarily going to be pretty, either, much like Katie's face with her allergic reaction. :D Anyways, please click on the little purplish/bluish button in the corner…