In love with a Weasley (Charlie Weasley)

OOTP 8

"Sorry boys I'm just too awesome" I smirk at them. Professor McGonagall was now moving along the table handing out schedules. 

"Look at today!" groaned Ron. "History of Magic, double Potions, Divination, and double Defence Against the Dark Arts . . . Binns, Snape, Trelawney, and that Umbridge woman all in one day! I wish you two would hurry up and get those Skiving Snackboxes sorted"

"Do mine ears deceive me?" Fred said "Hogwarts prefects surely don't wish to skive off lessons?"

 "Look what we've got today," Ron said grumpily, shoving his schedule under Fred's nose. "That's the worst Monday I've ever seen." 

"Fair point, little bro," Fred said, scanning the column. "You can have a bit of Nosebleed Nougat cheap if you like." 

"Why's it cheap?" Ron said suspiciously. 

"Because you'll keep bleeding till you shrivel up, we haven't got an antidote yet," George said, helping himself to a kipper. 

"Cheers," Ron said moodily, pocketing his schedule, "but I think I'll take the lessons." 

"And speaking of your Skiving Snackboxes," Hermione said, eyeing me, Fred and George beadily, "you can't advertise for testers on the Gryffindor notice board." 

"Says who?" George said, looking astonished. 

"Says me," Hermione said. "And Ron." 

"Leave me out of it," Ron said hastily. Hermione glared at him. Fred and George sniggered.

"You'll be singing a different tune soon enough, Hermione," Fred said, thickly buttering a crumpet. "You're starting your fifth year, you'll be begging us for a Snackbox before long." 

"And why would starting fifth year mean I want a Skiving Snackbox?" She asked. 

"Fifth year's O.W.L. year," George said. 

"So?" 

"So you've got your exams coming up, haven't you? They'll be keeping your noses so hard to that grindstone they'll be rubbed raw," I told her with satisfaction. 

"Half our year had minor breakdowns coming up to O.W.L.s, even our dear Aurora" George said happily. "Tears and tantrums. Patricia Stimpson kept coming over faint." 

"Kenneth Towler came out in boils, d'you remember?" Fred said reminiscently.

"That's 'cause you put Bulbadox Powder in his pajamas," I informed him. 

"Oh yeah," He said, grinning. "I'd forgotten. Hard to keep track sometimes, isn't it?" 

"Anyway, it's a nightmare of a year, the fifth," George said. "If you care about exam results anyway. Fred and I managed to keep our spirits up somehow sometimes with Rory." 

"Yeah . . . you got, what was it, three O.W.L.s each?" Ron said. 

"Yep," Fred said unconcernedly. "But we feel our futures lie outside the world of academic achievement." 

"We seriously debated whether we were going to bother coming back for our seventh year," George said brightly, "now that we've got —" He broke off at a warning look from Harry, who knew George had been about to mention the Triwizard winnings he had given them. "now that we've got our O.W.L.s," George said hastily. "I mean, do we really need N.E.W.T.s? But we didn't think Mum could take us leaving school early, not on top of Percy turning out to be the world's biggest prat and we couldn't leave our dear Rory alone." 

"We're not going to waste our last year here, though," Fred said, looking affectionately around at the Great Hall. "We're going to use it to do a bit of market research, find out exactly what the average Hogwarts student requires from his joke shop, carefully evaluate the results of our research, and then produce the products to fit the demand."