"You cast the spell! If anyone should be complaining, it should be me!"

"I didn't mess up the spell! Moreover, it's obviously not right! The only plausible explanation is that it's a fluke! I can't have a 96 percent compatibility with a Weasley."

"Imagine that, Malfoy," my voice was scathing. "I almost agree with you! But everyone else got a semi-decent reading."

Malfoy snorted. "Tell that to Pansy when she finds out that she has to go to the dance with a Hufflepuff, Weaselette."

"Anyone with a name like Zacharias would go perfectly with someone like Pansy. They can argue and insult one another all night!"

"Like we are right now? Sounds like fun…not."

"Keep laughing, Malfoy. I meant that they would be happy insulting one another. Besides, Luna and Harry got paired!"

"Scar-boy and Nargle-girl. Oh yeah, perfect pairing, Weaselette."

"Ron and Hermione got paired! They've been going out for a year!"

"But-"

I interrupted him. "Blaise and Cho! They are so alike that it's not even funny!"

"Weasel-"

I steamrollered on. "And besides, the Weasleys are an excellent old pureblood family with a penchant for being sorted into Gryffindor House, which is better than Slytherin any day of the week! So what if we don't hate muggleborns! We saved the freaking wizarding world from Voldemort! We're prominent members of the Ministry of Magic. We're war heroes! So listen, and listen well, Malfoy, if anyone in this equation should be complaining, it should be me. I have to go to the bloody ball with an arrogant little ferret who can't even insult people properly!"

"Weaselette!" Malfoy barked sharply. "You have no idea how I helped Potter! I did what I could! Do you think that it was easy for me not to kill Dumbledore when I had Voldemort on my back to do it? Do you know what I could do for Potter when he ended up captured in Malfoy Manor, guess what Weaselette; there was nothing I could do! He would've killed my family! He would have made me watch and then kill me if I didn't do what he wanted! So you know what, not everything was hunky-dory for me either!"

I looked up at Malfoy, whose face was pale as ever. Nevertheless, his grey eyes reflected grief not unlike what I often found in Harry's emerald green ones.

I shook my head to clear it. Stuff and nonsense! Feeling sorrow for a Malfoy!

"I suppose not," I said quietly. "But," my voice suddenly businesslike, unblemished by emotion, "it is a masquerade. Wear a mask, Malfoy."

"Because people would not recognize me even with a mask, Weaselette." Malfoy whined.

"Because people would not recognize me even with a mask, Malfoy." I mimicked. "Malfoy, you could go as an albino ferret!"

"Weaselette, you could go as a weasel!"

We glared at one another.

"Miss Wheezy?" Dobby tugged on the bottom of my robes.

I smiled down at the elf. "Yes, Dobby?"

"Miss Wheezy, what would you and the young sir like for dinner?"

"What do you already have prepared, Dobby?"

He brightened considerably. "Oh, miss, we has lots ready. Sheppard's pie, treacle tarts, pie, fried potatoes, eggs, fried chicken, clam chowder, onion soup, French bread…"

The house-elf didn't look like he was going to stop anytime soon, so I interrupted him as politely as possible. "It all sounds wonderful, Dobby. Why don't you surprise us?"

Dobby's face lit up. "Oh yes, Miss Wheezy! That will be right out Miss!"

"Now you've done it, Weaselette," Dr-Malfoy drawled. I'd almost called him by his given name! I shuddered at the sheer craziness of such a thought.

"Done what?"

"Given him free reign. Don't plan on being able to move when we leave."

Dobby, as well as about a dozen other elves came out of the main kitchen. Each one was carrying a dish. I quickly cleared the table, wondering what I'd done.

First Dobby placed Sheppard's pie in front of me. The following elves set plates of steak, onion soup, fried chicken wings, among many other dishes, on the table.

After the last two elves had set cups of pumpkin juice and buttterbeers in front of us, they left.

"I hate to admit it, Malfoy, but you were right. Imagine that," I said.

"I did tell you, Weaselette, you just didn't believe me."

"Enjoy it while you can, Mal-ferret."

"I will, Weaselette, and I will also completely ignore that insult."

I sighed. "Why don't you figure out the other pairs while I draft the partner letters? We can surprise everyone and get them out by tomorrow morning, maybe by tonight."

"Don't you have to run it by Granger?" Malfoy smirked.

I drew myself up as tall as I could while sitting down. "Malfoy, anyone who makes me go up to the front of the room, without any kind of prior warning, in front of the whole entire school; they forfeit any kind of authority that they have over me. If Hermione gets mad, blame it on me. I am the head of the committee."

"Feisty for a weasel," Malfoy commented.

I grinned evilly. "You got one thing right, Malfoy. I want to get it all done tonight, so I don't have to put up with you for nearly as long. See how this works? Yes? Great. Now get working."

After about an hour, I produced a satisfactory letter to send out with a tricky bit of magic to get all the respective pairs on their respective letters. It read:

Dear Miss Weasley.

Your date for the Back-to-School Ball, scheduled for this Saturday, from 7 p.m. to 12 a.m. will be Mr. Malfoy of Slytherin House. You are both well matched with a compatibility factor of 96 percent. Please note that this is a formal ball.

With all due respect,

Head of the Ball Committee,

Genevieve Weasley

I felt sick just reading it.

By the time we finished, it was nearly 10 o'clock, and most students would already be in bed.

"Why don't you go, Malfoy? I have to get these up to the Owlery, and then make sure that they all get out. It could be awhile."

"Sure, Weaselette," he said, leaving.

I gathered up all of our notes and the letters to put into my messenger bag. On my way out the door, I said goodbye to Dobby and thanked all of the elves for an excellent dinner.

The trek to the Owlery was long, and I kept my wand out, clutched in my hand. The corridors were dark, and the windows let in a ghostly moonlight. It was eerie.

I began climbing the stairs, greeting some of the ghosts, before making it to the passageway that led to the Owlery.

I could feel eyes on me. Paranoia set in, making me quicken my pace and glance around the dark hall nervously.

I knocked into someone. I tripped over their feet, and let out a shriek as I began to fall, when strong hands caught me about the waist before I could hit the ground. I stumbled out of their grasp, wand raised, ready and alert.

"Relax, for goodness' sakes, Weaselette, it's me."

"Malfoy." I almost sighed in relief. To think, to be glad that he was here! What was wrong with me?

He walked into the moonlight. "Too true," he smirked. "Scared, Weaselette?"

"Of course not!" I proclaimed hotly. "You startled me, skulking around in the dark, at night, when no one else was around, and then knocking me over!"

"You have to admit that I did catch you, Weaselette."

"What are you doing here, anyway? I thought I told you to leave." I sounded harsher than I wanted to.

"McGonagall saw me going back to the dungeons, and demanded an explanation for being out so late. When I finished, she told me that I had to accompany you to the Owlery because it was so late at night, like you just said, and that you couldn't go anywhere alone, especially at night…et cetera, et cetera."

We started walking towards the Owlery again.

The Owlery was in a large tower, with an open ceiling to allow the birds to leave as they chose. I found Everdeene and gave her an owl treat from my bag. She hooted in appreciation as I tied the first letter to her leg and removed another. She probably hadn't been able to deliver it, considering I had been in classes or the kitchen all day.

"Is she yours?" asked Malfoy from behind me.

I jumped. Turning to face him, I replied. "Yes, she was…a gift."

"From your parents?"

"No…I don't know who exactly, but it's someone I might know from Hogwarts."

"That particular breed and color of owl is fairly uncommon." He walked towards the back of the Owlery. "Toss me a letter, Weaselette." I heard his faint tenor voice say.

I threw a letter towards him. "How do I know you won't just rip it up out of spite?"

"Because I'm me. I know these fools are going to be unhappy enough without my help."

I hurled an owl treat at his head.

"Ow!" he yelped.

"Don't be negative!"

"Okay, okay Weaselette. They're all going to fall madly in love. And then everyone will fail their classes…forget to eat…get anorexia…and then di-Ow!"

Who knew that owl treats were so effective when dealing with ferrets?

Another owl flew towards the sky. It was a male, with deep chocolate brown feathers, and huge visage.

"What do you call your owl, Malfoy?"

"Incentius," he replied resentfully.

"Fancy."

"Like anything, I suppose. And yours?"

I tied another letter to a school owl's leg. "Everdeene."

"Oh. Another letter."

We finished with the first round of letters and stood waiting for the owls to return so we could send the next round. I leaned against the wall and pulled out a quill and parchment. I opened up Anonymous' latest letter.

Dearest Genevieve,

Whatever you would like to talk about. Tell me about yourself. Until we read again,

With all due respect,

Oblivious

P.S. I obviously can't tell you that. That's why I'm anonymous.

"What are you doing?" asked Malfoy.

"Writing."

"To whom are you writing to?"

"Anonymous." I said, smirking to myself. An answer that didn't seem like an answer.

"Who's anonymous?"

"That's a question that we'd both like to know the answer to."

"So you don't know?"

"That's what I said. Now, please shut up and let me write. Don't be so nosy."

"So how'd you meet this person if you don't know who they are?"

I turned to face him, exasperated. "He or she sent me my owl as a gift."

"I see." He paused. "Do you like them?"

"I don't know yet. Now please let me write."

Dear Anonymous,

About me? Well…okay. I'm a sixth year, and my favorite subject is either Charms or Transfiguration. I probably like Charms a little better. I'm kind of stubborn, and I'm sarcastic.

After school, my aspirations include getting onto a professional Quidditch team to play as a Chaser or Seeker. I really like flying in the early morning and late at night. It's funny, because most girls dream of romantic walks on the beach, or candlelit, expensive dinners. My dream date would probably be flying, late at night, in near darkness, for hours and hours on end, until we're too tired and it's too late to see anything. Then, we'd have a light picnic supper by the lake and fall asleep there. However, I'm running into tangents. My other aspiration is to be a prominent member in society. What I mean is that I'd like to be a high-class Ministry official, or a Quidditch sensation, something that I have to work really hard for. Something that isn't just handed to me on a silver platter.

I'm the head of the Ball Committee. From the sounds of it, it's going to be a lot of fun. I hope that everyone likes (or learns to like) their pairing, which we finished tonight and are currently sending out.

Quidditch tryouts are Monday. Between schoolwork, the ball, buying dress robes, practicing for tryouts and everything else that I have to deal with, I'm not going to be able to sleep! Nevertheless, it's only for one week, I suppose.

I apologize for telling you about stuff that I'm sure you already know about, but so is life, right?

Chao for now, letters to send,

Genevieve Weasley

P.S. Can you tell me if you are a boy or a girl?

"Hey, Weaselette, are you ready to send out the next batch of letters or are you still writing to your secret admirer?"

"It's not my secret admirer! How do you know if it isn't a girl? And besides, I am done!"

I defiantly sealed my envelope and walked over to Everdeene, who'd just returned. I tied the letter to her leg, and she flew into the night once again.

"Malfoy?" I couldn't see him. "Malfoy? It's just like you to leave me to do all the work after you yell at me for not doing anything! Don't be such a hypocrite!"

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you missed me, Weaselette."

He stepped out from behind a marble column.

"Hardly," I retorted. "You were the one that was so quick to answer."

"At the risk of losing my hearing, Weaselette. And for clarification, that would have been your fault."

"Just grab a letter already, Malfoy."

"With pleasure, I'm sure," he said sarcastically.

Two hours later, we were almost finished.

"Last on-n-nes," I yawned, eyelids drooping as I secured a letter.

"Finally," said, Malfoy, not sounding tired in the least bit. I envied and hated him for it.

"Sod off," I said grumpily, stifling another yawn.

I leaned against a wall. I would just close my eyes…just for one minute….