xxvi. favourite girl

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GALLONS OF GALLEONS!

Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings? Like to earn a little extra gold?

Contact Fred and George Weasley,

Gryffindor common room,

for simple, part-time, virtually painless jobs

(WE REGRET THAT ALL WORK IS UNDERTAKEN AT APPLICANT'S OWN RISK)

Fred and George were at it again. Their own joke shop, allowing students to get paid to help regulate their products. Genius.

Well, at least I thought it was. Hermione, not so much.

"They are the limit," said Hermione grimly, taking down the sign. "We'll have to talk to them, Ron."

Ron looked positively alarmed.

"Why?"

"Because we're prefects!" said Hermione. "It's up to us to stop this kind of thing!"

Ron said nothing, but I could tell that stopping Fred and George wasn't something he found inviting.

"Seamus reckons Harry's lying about You-Know-Who," Ron changed the topic. Harry shot him an icy look, whereas Hermione sighed.

"Lavender thinks so, too," she said gloomily.

"When'd she say that?" I asked.

"Right before you came in. I told her to keep her fat mouth shut!" huffed Hermione.

I gasped and laughed at the thought of Hermione shouting at Lavender Brown, our roommate. Harry looked ashamed as if he were going to yell at her, whereas Ron looked proud at the fact she stood up for Harry.

"Whatever, let's go for breakfast," I rolled my eyes, walking towards the portrait hole. As we made it to the Great Hall, we finally got our lessons for this term, "what classes did you guys get?"

Ron groaned at my question, looking over today's schedule, "History of Magic, double Potions, Divination, and double Defense Against the Dark Arts... Binns, Snape, Trelawney, and that Umbridge woman all in one day! I wish Fred and George'd hurry up and get those Skiving Snack boxes sorted—"

"Do mine ears deceive me?" said Fred, arriving with George and squeezing onto the bench beside me. "Hogwarts prefects surely don't wish to skive off lessons?"

"Look what we've got today," said Ron grumpily, shoving his schedule under George's nose.

"That's the worst Monday– Wednesday– Friday setup I've ever seen," George nudged Ron.

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

"Why are they cheap?" I raised a brow at them.

"You'll keep bleeding till you shrivel up, we haven't got an antidote yet," said George.

"Cheers," said Ron, "but I'll take my lessons."

"What about you?" Harry asked me.

"Uh, History, double potions, Arithmancy, and then double Dark Arts, like you guys," I nodded. "This blows, I don't want any classes with Professor Umbitch."

"Say that again?" Fred mused. George slowly grinned at my comment, trying to not laugh at me.

My cheeks grew hot at their pestering and I elbowed both of them, "hush! I've always called her that. She is! I've hated her since the moment I— Well, she's a bitch."

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