22 December

10:00 A.M.

Fred and George’s Room

The Burrow

Dear, dear, dear Thoughts Book,

Hooray, am girlfriend of spectacular lad who loves me despite my temper, irrational lash outs, and all around oddity. Sure, George can be a bit of a god-awful prick at times…but who isn’t? Last night was so amazing, I’ve almost completely forgotten the mortification that happened first.

But I shall catalog it in an effort to be fair to my character. Also, Ange says I should have a reliable written record (alliteration, yay!) in case the Weasleys ever decide to press charges one day.

As if my dear George would ever do something like that. But no matter.

Okay, after Angelina came out of the bathroom last night (she was in a spectacularly scandalous teddy, and I was debating on whether to let George see her that way), we walk out of the room and hide down the hall behind a bookcase and wait for the twins to make their moves. We’re both fairly irritated that after their little stunt at dinner, they still assume that we’re going to give them the time of day…but it’s important to the plan so we do nothing besides scoff.

It’s George that goes into me and Ange’s room, so we assume Fred must still be in the twins’ room. (See, Mrs. Weasley? Not THAT hard to tell your sons apart.) Ange nods at me and we sneak down the hall, splitting in separate directions at the two doors.

I’m a little self conscious as I’m about to sneak into the room. In all honesty, thoughts book, I have no idea how to be sexy. I mean, the one time I was even remotely treated as such was the day I wore Alicia’s tiny uniform and I was practically busting the buttons. I look down at myself. I’m in tiny shorts and a tank top. For added measure, I pull my shorts up higher and walk in.

As soon as I stepped through the door, Fred yelped and threw up the covers in a flash, until just the top of his carroty red hair was showing.

“Hello, handsome,” I say, in my sexiest voice.

“Katie, George is in the other room,” Fred says, clutching at the covers and peering out at me. “It’s me, Fred.”

I laugh cheerfully. “That was a good one at the dinner table, George,” I say. “But just because your family falls for it doesn’t mean I’m going to.”

I swivel my hips as I lower myself down on the bed next to him, taking care to ensure that one of the straps to my tanktop falls down my shoulder. Fred eyes it and swallows nervously.

“Really, Kates, look at me,” he says. “It’s me, Fred.”

“Okay, Fred,” I say sarcastically, beginning to twist one of Fred’s locks of hair around my finger. “Why don’t you slide over and make room for me?”

“Katie, for God’s sakes, it really is me! Fred Weasley!”

He’s starting to sweat, little sucker.

“Come now, let me in,” I pretend to pout and tug on the covers.

Fred pulls them tighter. “Trust me, Kates, you really don’t want to do that.”

“Oh I think I do!” I say, winking, and then with a great flourish, I rip the comforter away from him.

Then I scream.

Because Fred Weasley is lying in the bottom bunk in his and George’s bedroom completely starkers.

That’s right, thoughts book. I saw Fred Weasley naked.

He’s frozen and I’m frozen and I’m still screaming as I hear a high pitched scream emit from me and Angelina’s room. I’m assuming things did not go well for her, either.

Two seconds later, George comes rushing in and it turns out that it had been his girly scream, not Ange’s (go figure. I should have pegged my boyfriend as the one to sound like that.) He’s wearing a matching pajama set that has a teapot print and is clutching a teddy bear very defensively. Not far behind him is Ange, who looks completely satisfied with herself until she sees Fred.

“Fred!” she shrieks. “Oh my god! You’re naked!”

“Well what did you expect, Ange?!” he shouts defensively. “I like that teddy, by the way.”

“Thanks!” George says stupidly.

“Not your bear, George. Godric, you turn into such a pathetic loser when we come home,” Fred says disgustedly.

“You’re naked!” Ange repeats, still horrified. Her eyes are bugging out of her skull.

“Personally, I’m wondering why you’re still naked!” I shout, now covering my eyes with my hands.

“Katie, what are you wearing?” George shouts suddenly. He rushes over to me and makes sure to cover me from Fred and Ange while delicately placing my tank top strap back in place. I roll my eyes.

“I can’t believe you exposed yourself to Katie!” Ange is shouting.

“It’s not like I chose to, Angelina!” Fred yells back.

“As if you didn’t know Katie and I were going to try to play a trick on you after your little stunt at dinner!”

“This was a joke?!”

“Of course it was!”

“You’re INSANE!”

George now looks outraged as well. He points a finger accusatorily at me. “You made me see Angelina in a teddy for fun?” he shouts, scandalized.

“What are you complaining for?” I yell back. “I saw your sodding twin brother naked! Now I’ve seen both of you that way! Yuck!”

Angelina and Fred exchange glances and look affronted.

“I do not look bad naked,” Fred says haughtily.

“And I look great in this teddy,” Ange says defensively.

George and I exchange glances and then look back at them. “You’re nutters,” we say simultaneously.

“Come on, Fred, we don’t have to take this,” Ange declares. She takes Fred’s hand and leads him out of the bedroom and across the hall. The last thing I see is Fred’s bare bottom winking in the glow of the nightlight as it disappears behind the door.

“I can’t believe he never covered himself up in between now and then,” I remark as soon as the noise dies down.

George shrugs as he picks up the pillow Fred threw down and begins to make up the bed. “It’s Fred,” he says simply. “He’s very confident.”

I roll my eyes but continue to help tidy up. “Nice pajamas,” I say, grinning.

George instantly turns red. “They belonged to my Great Aunt Tessie,” he says defensively. “And they’re very cozy.”

“And the bear?”

“Bessie,” George says fondly and squeezes the teddy bear.

I stare at him. “If only the Hogwarts masses could see you now,” I say sarcastically, putting the last pillow on the bottom bunk.

He gives me a look.

“Hey,” I say suddenly. “We can’t hear Fred and Ange. Cool!”

George waves his hand dismissively. “Fred and I put a sound barrier on this floor of the house years ago. Helped for testing our inventions and blocking the noise of Percy—ah—pleasuring himself in his room.”

I wrinkle my nose.

“So…” George says finally. “Top or bottom bunk? Fred stole top when we were seven so I’ve gotten used to the bottom, but whatever you want.”

“I’ll take top,” I say easily. “Unless you feel cheated out of so many years on the top that you want it.”

“All yours,” he says, bowing and swooping his hands toward the top bunk.

I suddenly giggle.

“What?” he asks, face falling.

“That conversation sounded sexual. Top…bottom…”

George rolls his eyes. “Godric, Bell, you are so not ready to have sex,” he says. “You’re so immature.”

I stick my tongue out defensively. “I’ve seen you naked,” I remind him.

“Point proven,” he says, scoffing.

I ignore him and climb onto the top bunk and slide between the covers.

“George, have you—you know…?” I say suddenly.

“Don’t finish that question,” he warns.

I’m confused as to what this may entail, but then decide that I don’t want to know after all.

I lean over the railing and George leans out from his bunk and pecks me on the lips.

“Night!” he says.

“Night!”

Now, I find it odd that I suddenly forgot about the “switch” at dinner and being angry about it. I’m about to say so and chastise George, when he suddenly says:

“Katie?”

“Yeah?” I say, assuming he may want to apologize.

“You—erm—you don’t have to sleep up there if you don’t want to.”

“Why?” I ask, confused. “You change your mind? Want the top bunk after all?”

“No,” he says uncomfortably. After a pause, he continues. “I just mean…well, we could share a bed. If you want.”

I lean completely over the railing so my face is level with his. Except it’s upside down. I can feel the blood rushing to my face already.

“What do you mean?” I ask curiously.

“No funny business,” he says quickly. “Just…sharing a bed.”

I consider him, and then make a disgusted face. “You want to cuddle all night, don’t you?” I ask, a little condescendingly.

George blushes. “Maybe,” he says defensively. “So what if I do?”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, all right,” I say, and clamber out of bed and down the ladder. “The things I put up with just to date you…”

George scoots over and holds his arm out for me, caressing the spot next to him. In spite of myself, I laugh and awkwardly slide in next to him. We’ve never spent the night together before, even though Angelina and Fred do it all the time.

George closes his arm over me and pulls me close to him as we lie down. He uses his other arm to pull up the covers and then slides it over my waist.

“Now,” he whispers, and the little wand lights at the other end of the room go out. The room is completely dark and then I feel him kiss me. It’s not snogging, and it’s not a peck either. I decide I like it. I tell him so.

“Good,” he says. “And now that I’ve got you here, I’m free to feel you up, right?”

I shove him hard away from me, but he just laughs and grabs on to me.

“Kidding, kidding, kidding,” he whispers into my ear. I shiver.

“Night, George,” I say, unable to restrain myself from grinning.

“Nighty Night, Katie Kate,” he says in a sing-song voice. I cuddle in closer to him and we fall asleep.

And that’s how we woke up this morning! George didn’t slip me a Puking Pastille or take away my honor while I was sleeping or anything! This is a first for us. I’m already showered and dressed and now I’m waiting for him to get out of the shower.

YAY US!!!!!

XxX

5 Minutes Later

Quick Update

Perhaps George is not so perfect. Have found Christmas card from Marietta Edgecombe on his desk. Is it possible…?

XxX

6:00 P.M.

Me and Ange’s Room

Investigating George’s potential cheating did not go well. Mostly because I didn’t investigate so much as I vented my feelings by attacking him with snow.

Avoided him at breakfast, but the annoying git did not seem to notice. This could have been because Charlie had brought home a baby dragon which was currently roasting sausage on the table with its fire breath, but it’s anybody’s guess. Stupid dragon. Stupid life.

Cannot believe I was raving about stupid George as an amazing boyfriend only a few short hours ago. I hate that git.

Anyway, after breakfast Fred and George were being a little—well—much (they were transfiguring the cat into different articles of clothing which was making it yowl) and so Mrs. Weasley suggested we all go outside and enjoy the snow. This included Harry and Ron and Ginny. So we organized a massive snowball fight. Fred and George refused to be separated and Angelina refused to leave Fred’s side so George punted me off to the younger ones to “round out the teams.”

I glowered at him as he volunteered me. Sodding bastard. Was probably trying to separate from me so he could go off and think about what to get Marietta for Christmas. Harry looked at me funny as I pouted all the way over to their side of the yard.

“What’s with him?” I asked Ron as I joined them.

“Oh, well he was a bit—ahh—mortified about what you said at the dinner table last night, wasn’t he? About him and Cho?”

“So?” I asked defensively.

“So we wiped his memory and Fred and George cast a spell so you look like—er—something else,” Ginny interjected. “But just to Harry.”

I stared. “What do I look like?” I hissed.

“Well—a bush.”

“A BUSH?!”

“Fred and George chose it!” Ginny said, pointing her finger across the yard.

“George!” I bellowed. “I’m going to take your sodding head off!”

“I LOVE YOU TOO, KATIE!” George shouted at the top of his lungs.

Harry says, “Why is George yelling at that mulberry bush?”

Ginny gently tells Harry he had a little too much to drink that morning. “I don’t see any bush!” she says. Ron just shrugs. Useless Weasley boys. Harry just looks bewildered and cleans his glasses.

Fred blew a whistle (where the hell did he get a whistle?) and we began. I charged at George.

“Katie, we’re meant to keep to our sides of the lawn!” Ginny shouts after me. I give her the finger. I figure I’ll probably regret that later, but I don’t care.

“GEORGE WEASLEY, I HATE YOU!” I shout, running at top speed.

He just stares at me slightly amused as I charge toward him, snowball in hand.

I leap onto him and push us both down to the ground and shove his face full of snow. “Eat snow!” I bellow, smashing it into his mouth.

George easily forces himself on top of me and throws me over his shoulder as he takes off for a distant snow bank.

“PUT ME DOWN!” I shout. “HELP, I’M BEING ABDUCTED!!!!” Naturally, no one looks up.

George throws me down onto the snowbank and shoves my face (and clothes!) full of snow, and then sits on top of me.

“Alright,” he says calmly. “What have I done now?”

I open my mouth to yell at him and George stuffs it full of more snow.

“Nothing?” he says brightly. “That’s what I thought.”

I spit out the snow and sit up and slap at him ridiculously. I know, thoughts book, but it was very cold and it was the best I could manage.

“Godric, Katie, what is it?” he said. “I thought we were having a good Holiday together!”

“We were!” I shout. “Until I found out you were cheating on me with Marietta Edgecombe! I saw your Christmas card from her! How could you?!?!”

George looks at me blankly and then cracks up laughing. Seriously. He doubles over and has tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Oy!” Fred shouts. “You two! You’re supposed to be on opposite teams! Unless you’re putting her in prison, George, come back over here!”

George holds up his hand to signal his inability to anything other than laugh like a tossing idiot and then starts rolling on the snow.

“Right,” I say, attempting to gather my dignity. “Well, I’m off then.”

And I stomped back up here. Am falling to pieces in manner of tragic spinster woman.

XxX

10:00 P.M.

Fred and George’s Room

Er…turns out George is not cheating on me. ‘Cause right before dinner he comes up and Apparates into our room, grabs my hand, and drags me across the hall to his room.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I demand. “I’m writing to my mother!”

“You just sent your mother a Howler,” George reminds me. “I doubt she’s too keen on hearing from you at the moment.”

I stick up my nose.

“Now,” he says. “Sit down, shut up, and read this.”

George pushes me down on his bed and thrusts Marietta’s Christmas card at me.

“Read it,” he said icily, folding his arms.

I stick my tongue out at him and open the damn card, not believing that he’s making me take part in his infidelity. This is what it said:

Dear George,

Haha! I disguised this hate mail in the form of a Christmas card so you would open it! Hahaha! I just wanted to let you know that I HATE you and your stupid girlfriend Katie Bell. She’s not even that pretty. By the way, I’m back with Roger and I will NEVER want you again. So that’s what you get for rejecting me. Hahaha!

Marietta—The curly-haired vixen who is WAY out of your league

Tosser.

I scrunch my nose up a little.

“Well?” George says impatiently.

“Um…well I guess you’re not cheating me,” I concede. “I guess.”

“You guess?!” George says incredulously. “Katie, this is Marietta being her idea of an overly-clever scarlet woman because I’m dating you. Could you please get yourself out of your self-destructive spiral of rage and realize that I might actually love you?”

I stared. “You love me?” I echoed.

He glared and folded his arms. “So?” he said defensively.

Now I laughed. “You love me! You love me!” I taunted, tossing Marietta’s card behind the bed.

“Katie!”

“You love me, you love me!” I continued, watching George’s face grow angrier until he attempted to grab me. I leapt up and ran down the stairs, continuing to shout in a sing-song voice at the top of my lungs.

“Shut up!” George yells as he chases me down the stairs.

“NOW THE MULBERRY BUSH IS RUNNING AROUND THE HOUSE!” Harry shrieked when we reached the living room. Everyone stopped.

“Harry dear, you really do need more rest,” Mrs. Weasley says nervously. Mr. Weasley laughs in the background.

XxX

23 December

12:00 Noon

Burrow Living Room

Oh my. Am afraid have just been enlisted on Christmas Eve cooking expedition. Did not mean to, except may have told accidental lie about being an extremely good cook. Here’s what happened:

So we’re sitting at breakfast this morning and in an effort to repair ties with Mrs. Weasley, Ange is being all Ange again and is ridiculously sucking up. Having exhausted the entire Weasley family tree (not a task to cough at, I will let you know), she’s regaling her with stories of her attempts at knitting in Muggle Studies. I happen to know for a fact that Angelina paid off Alicia to finish those knitting projects, but I say nothing—just glare at her. And they’re all swapping these stories like they’re old girlfriends.

I’m slightly annoyed, but apparently George assumes I’m utterly devastated and in effort to remedy it, he says, “Mum, Katie gained the most weight during the baking unit of Muggle Studies.”

I gasp and kick George under the table, while Mrs. Weasley looks alarmed and then says, “That’s nice, dear…” and switches her gaze to me in a look that clearly says, “Why are you dating my son, you bizarre girl?”

Offended, I blurt out the following: “That was just because I’m a really good cook. I baked twelve dozen batches of chocolate chip cookies in under an hour, and my recipe won an internationally recognized contest.”

Fred and George’s mouths drop and Mrs. Weasley says, “Oh, how wonderful! You can help me with the food tomorrow then!”

Oh. Dear. Merlin. Help me.