Sorry for the wait again. XD

I know I said something about how the romance would go away after last chapter...but nah. But this is more of an unrequited-crush-type-thing...it's cathartic...'cause my own love life is even more of an epic failure than normal. XD

Erm...yes. So Louis has his entire existence screwed up by Fred. (Which sounds like my life right now. To all of you out there, NEVER let a guy, even if he's your best friend, try to set you up with anyone. They have no subtlety, no tact, and ugh. Ignore me, I'm ranting. XD)

New OCs! I apologize in advance.

Sheila Perkins: Well, if anyone remembers the old guy who was Arthur Weasley's work partner...the one who lent him the tent...she's his great-niece. Gryffindor, brown hair, brown eyes, average in every way, but a crazy Muggle aficionado (who has an unfortunate tendency to blow stuff up during her...experimentation). Friends with fellow Gryffindors Louis and Fred, solely because none of the girls want to associate with the person who wrecked their dorm on the third day of first year.

Marie Fontaine: Moved from Belgium to England when she was eight-ish. So the accent's so faint as to be nonexistent. She's rather pretty, and she knows. Not that she cares much about it, though. Dainty and delicate in everything but demeanor. Slytherin through and through...ish. ;)

And a note: I'm leaning towards Louis/Marie and Fred/Sheila as of now, but it could go either way based on this letter, or I could even throw in another OC for Louis since Marie's...weird. So you should probably tell me what you think of the romance, 'cause I'm no good at it. XD

After this, actually, is Molly. I've been having issues with her, so I need to get her out of the way.

And...I have no ideas for Lucy, Fred, and Roxanne. So if you have any humorous incidents you'd like to share, drop me a review, 'kay?

Happy New Year!

Dear Dad,

Please don't tell Mum, she'll complain about the expense, but you'll have to buy me a new broom before next week's match. Because...my girlfriend practically vaporized the old one; she was trying to turn it into a rocketship for a Muggle Studies project. (And it wasn't even old. That's the sad part. Auntie Ginny sent it to me as a surprise present for my birthday two months ago. I doubt she told you about it...you'd probably complain that she's spoiling me.) And yes, that previous statement about a "girlfriend" means I'm dating Sheila. Don't tell Mum that either; I don't think she's liked her ever since she exploded the pudding during that Christmas dinner a few years ago.

But regardless, please don't be shocked that I'm going out with Sheila of all people. I really do like her. She's smart(-ish), and sweet(-ish), and pretty(-ish)...and spends most of her time setting things on fire, but I'm generally fine with that (except if it's my stuff that's incinerated)...and...well, she spends the other half of her time crying on my shoulder over Fred.

Fine. Fine! I'll admit it. We're only together to spite Fred. (Not that it's working, mind you.) Why? He bloody stole her, that's why!

(I'll warn you, Dad, there'll probably be an overuse of exclamation points in this letter. Try to avoid being alarmed.)

Her, in this case, refers to...well, her. The Marie Antoinette to my Louis XVI. If that's actually an apt analogy, then Fred's just guillotined me. It's hard seeing them together...since she looks...happy. She's not supposed to be happy; she's supposed to turn up her nose, and flounce about, and swish her pretty golden hair around, and hex people...hex me in particular. But now, she's stopped even looking at me. Apparently any friend of Fred's isn't an enemy of hers, which is a pity, because I don't think I can stand even being ten feet away from Fred for much longer. She doesn't have eyes for anybody but him. And she bats her lashes at him and makes an utter fool of herself and - hell, I can't stand it.

I swear, she's turned into a Hufflepuff or something, because she's given up everything that made her...well...Marie. Her haughtiness, snobbery, even her temper. And especially the way she managed to turn around any situation to her own advantage. (Like when she pushed me into a Fanged Geranium, and claimed I pushed her when Professor Longbottom questioned us. He didn't know what to say, particularly as her bleeding-finger-act looked oddly realistic.) I've always hated that about her, but now...I miss it. And the fact that it's Fred's fault makes it all the worse.

You see, Fred had a plan to get us together...a master plan, which really should have worked. He assumed that if he got Marie and me together in detention, then something would happen. I was bloody well up for it; 'specially since I've been somewhat infatuated with her since the winter of fourth year. (If I remember correctly, which I always do, I accidentally-on-purpose got us stuck under the mistletoe, and she punched me, properly punched me, with that characteristic roll of her eyes...and an expression that rather resembled a smile. Which was probably me hallucinating, since she never smiled...before now. But she looked beautiful then, I tell you. Beautiful.)

Anyways, Fred gave me one of Sheila's new insanely high-power firework-type-things. (She showed them to me with rapt, shining eyes. Apparently she finally got her hands on a Muggle cellular phone, took it apart, tried to reassemble it with magic, and screwed up the wires in such a way that...basically, she came up with something else that seemed to act like a firecracker. Sheila managed to make the technical details last about an hour. I fell asleep; Fred somehow managed to stay awake; I don't know how.) So according to "the plan", I would throw the firework at Marie in class, which would likely cause her to throw something back at me. And we'd both end up in detention...cleaning bedpans or something. Lovely. But I believed that any situation in which we'd be together would be better than nothing.

We tried to begin Operation Fireworks last Wednesday. We were going to do it during Herbology, but Professor Longbottom was in such an awfully good mood...spring weather was getting to him, I suppose. It seemed he'd rather get bitten by twenty Tentaculas than give anybody a detention! He even ignored Zabini when she stuck her tongue out at the pot in front of her and ditched. So we adapted the plan a bit during Care of Magical Creatures. (If Hagrid actually collected stuff, we'd be doomed. Fred and I did nothing at all, and Sheila only wrote 'Both are horse-like...?' on her diagram comparing unicorns and thestrals.) Result was that we moved the plan to Defence the next day.

Well, of course there would be a problem with that. Cupid never seems to smile on me. See, Uncle Harry popped up out of nowhere to give one of his surprise "lectures", teaching us sixth-years about the Unforgivables. It would have been interesting if I hadn't been on tenterhooks the whole time. I was about to tell Fred to "abort the mission," when he winked at me blatantly and slid the firework across the floor to Marie's bag. It blew up in a few seconds, after which she shrieked and threw bubotuber pus at us. (I'm not quite sure why she was carrying pus around with her, so don't ask.) On the bright side, the pus missed us. But on the other hand...well...to put it simply, utter chaos ensued, and Fred and Sheila dutifully blamed me for it.

Uncle Harry hid a smile while looking at me...I don't know why he failed Divination, because I swear, he knew everything. And because he knew, he conveniently gave us both detentions in the same sentence...effectively putting us in the same detention. Except the Head Girl and Head Boy unfortunately had a free period, and so were sitting in the back of the room to listen to the lecture. Problem? Al and Rose...like me. A lot. And also know that it's extremely out of character for me to break at least two school rules in one go. So they both looked at me in a terribly sympathetic manner, and immediately blamed Fred for the firework. Uncle Harry trusts those two, for obvious reasons. And he appears to value this trust more than he values my nonexistent romantic life. (I think it's either because of his infallible sense of honesty, or the fact that he doesn't think Marie would make a very worthwhile niece-in-law.) Which is why Fred got the detention instead of me.

(Rose and Al have now completely lost their top spots on the list of People I'm Actually Okay With Being Related To. Albus seems rather disappointed about that, and keeps trying to corner me in the hallways. Rose just looks at me with sad eyes across the common room while "pretending" to study. I actually think she writes grammatically correct sonnets to that idiotic Malfoy boyfriend of hers instead of doing her homework. I don't know what she sees in him. Honestly.)

Point being, Fred's plan...worked. He and Marie came out of detention in Greenhouse Three...together...in very good spirits. He hasn't bothered to apologize. Typical Fred. Sheila's awfully torn up about it, though. I think she feels worse than I do. She's, well, lost the only person who liked the fact that she managed to blow up anything and everything she set eyes upon. And I've lost...my two best friends. And her. And Al and Rose. And...

And my broom. Which was the point of this whole thing, anyway. (Is rambling hereditary? Or is it just contagious?) It'd be nice if you could somehow get me that new Firebolt (Lightening Edition Deluxe, Second Release) that came out a few weeks ago. Just do it without Mum knowing. You see, if Gryffindor beats Ravenclaw, we give Slytherin a chance of winning the cup. And maybe if I'm a good enough keeper, Marie'll like me. At the very least, I'll have a good broom. Which is something.

I'd sign off with love, but I don't seem to have much of it lately. So:

Sincerely,
Louis

P.S. - Sheila has this damn irritating habit of looking over my shoulder while I write. Anyways, she wants me to send her love to Grandpa, and to ask him if he has any spare generator parts she can borrow. (But please tell him not to give her any. I'm sick of explosions right now.)