Daisy's father said, and she herself agreed, that the Weasleys were one peculiar bunch.
They weren't as affluent, sociable, and affable as her other neighbours. They never came to the local kids' birthdays, they never invited the local kids to their...
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AFTER A LONG day of multiple tests with Ms. Sloan, followed by a quick trip to drop off some muffins at the Burrow, Daisy found herself sitting on the swing, swaying along to the soft breeze, with a piece of paper and a pen in her hands. She had written the first sentence (Dear FGW) and wondered what to write next.
"Are you writing a love letter to your boyfriend in boarding school?" Lucy asked. She was petting a black, furry, gigantic but very friendly stray dog that had somehow found its way to the Allen's yard. Its ears perked for a second before lowering again as it purred under her rhythmic caresses.
"What boyfriend?"
"Young Miss, you talk about our next door neighbour all the time, and I am a pretty good listener, so I do notice that you talk about one person more intently than the others."
Daisy scrunched up her eyebrows and let the gears in her brain whirred into motion. She was utterly, and genuinely, clueless, "Who?"
Lucy rolled her eyes. She playfully scratched behind the dog's ears and cooed, "Look at her! How is she so smart yet so dense at the same time? Right? Right? Right?"
"Really, though. Who?"
The dog whined, as if repeating Daisy's inquiry, then went after the stick that Lucy had thrown. The older girl merely shook her head and chuckled.
"Lucy!"
"No, I'm not telling you! Figure it out on your own!"
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October 24th, 1993
CONTRARY TO HIS youngest brother, Fred mentioned numerous times that he and George had been having a great time these past months.
