The common room is darker then usual, everyone is already in bed and I'm still down here doing Herbology homework. I guess it's my own fault for spending all the daylight that I could have been doing homework making plans and coming up with idea's for the joke shop. I like learning about different plants that we can use to make things for the shop, but writing an entire essay on some thorny plant is just boring. It's not even in season, there's already frost starting to cover the ground, which makes the walk to the greenhouses, now by myself thanks to my twin failing the OWL, crunchy.

"I thought everyone would be in bed by now." I looked up and saw the long blonde hair of Violet, a girl who has caused many questions from my brother over the passed week. Like, how did she know I was me and not Fred? I want to ask her that, I want to know how she, when my mother can't, could tell the difference between us. "Why are you awake?" She just tilted her head to the side and held up some parchment.

"Letter to my dad." She sat down across me at the table and dipped her quill in her ink and started writing, stopping every now and then, then starting again. "Is he in America?" I really didn't want to do my homework, and honestly, I couldn't think of anything else to say. She didn't even look up when she answered me, shaking her head slightly.

"No, I'm not sure where he is right now, he can't really tell us much." I think she could tell how puzzled I was, because she continued. "My dad is a soldier, and part of what he does is a lot of secret missions that we're not allowed to know about." She started a second page of her letter, laying the first off to the side to dry. How does it feel not having your father at home? My family is so close that it's hard to think of us ever not being with each other.

"What are you working on?" she looked over at my parchment and then back up at me, and our eyes connected, like on the stairs, I was stunned, they where so bright, so blue, so clear, it was hard to think about what she asked, what did she ask? "Herbology." Oh, yeah, homework. I'm working on homework.

"That's easy, do you need some help?" I looked down at my paper; there was something about her eyes that just, drew me in. And made other parts of me come alive, which, given that I'm a teenager, isn't hard to do. No pun intended. But, it's also not easy to do just with your eyes. "No, I get it, it's just boring."

She shrugged and went back to writing her letter, her blonde hair falling into her face. I'm just watching her and not looking at anything I should be doing. I think I was watching her for a few minutes because with what she said next, I didn't even notice it happen, but I saw her jump, and that's when our eyes met again "I have thunder. It sounds stupid, but I still think the sky is breaking when ever it storms." And then I heard it, loud crashing, like a drum being beaten by an angry kid.

"That's not stupid. It's normal to be afraid of things. I'm not, of course." She laughed, as I put my hand on my chest. "No one ever said that you or Fred where normal." True.

"Touché." Then we both stated laughing, and soon went back to our separate papers. She wrote a four-page letter to her father, she said she only sends one once a month, at the end, and he only sends them when he can. I finished my essay and carefully rolled it so it wouldn't get damaged. She kept jumping after every crash, like a scared cat.

Heh. She's a scaredy cat.

First time I realized that there was going to be something different about this girl. She wrote her father these long letters, telling him everything about her life, from boys to school, she was scared of thunder—something that is still true to this day. Her eyes drew me in, and still do, even from that first completely private moment I knew that I wanted her.

Not to marry her, or date her. I wanted to snog her, to taste her bubblegum lips, to feel her pale fingers in my hair. She's still pale as snow, even now, she almost seems like a doll during winter, like, if you don't watch her eyes you'll loose her in the white. I wanted her, bare, with me from the first moment she sat down. I'm not sure if she felt that way, I'm not sure I even want to know if she did, but I felt it, and I still do.

"Are you ready?" I took a deep breath and looked down at the picture of Fred and I, taken at Bill's wedding, just moment's before Death Eaters broke it up. It's strange to think that just three years ago, he was alive and we where here, but Violet wasn't, her dad got leave and she left for America by portkey the morning of. He had just started liking her, not feeling uncomfortable with what was going on with her.

"Should I be?" I'm having Bill be my best man, and Lee was second in command, I wanted one of my brothers, and since Bill is the only one who's done this before, and Fred can't be here, it makes sense to have him at my side while do this. He was shaking his head and said something but I didn't hear him. I could hear my mother talking to Violet, her voice cracking. She's been crying like that for weeks.

When Lee walked in the room he looked at me in a weird way before saying, "Well, at least you're marrying a pretty girl, you're kids wont be hideous." And we laughed, I think he spent too much time around us in school, he knows how to crack a joke and lighten the mood a bit.

"Are you kidding? Look at me, our children will be so beautiful they're be more famous then Harry was as a baby." And we laughed some more; laughing was making my stomach settle, no longer doing flip-flops and jumping around in nervous anticipation.

"Well, my second son to marry a blonde." My dad walked in and started straightening my tie right away, loosening it, than tightening it, then loosening it again. "Your mother thinks that you're all trying to get rid of our Weasley hair." And he laughed slightly, I'm not sure if it was at my mother thinking that, or if it was because he wanted some reassurance that it won't happen.

"Don't worry dad, my Weasley genes are better then Bill's, I'll give you a ginger grandkid." And he smiled a little, there's already this big pressure to start making more and more of us running around. I know my family isn't into the whole blood thing, but I also know they're happy that our family will be going to Hogwarts for many more generations.

With red hair, of course.

Author's Note: For some reason, I changed this chapter like, six times before coming up with this, and while I really like the Common Room thing, writing about what he's thinking then was very hard for me, I don't know why…