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“David! Give me back my letter!” I screamed, running after that eternal pest my mother likes to call my brother. Honestly, couldn’t we just sell him? This was the fourth time this week he had nicked my mail off our family owl, Prescott. Normally it wouldn’t be a big deal, but I knew for a fact this letter was from Victoire, and you know, that’s sort of a private thing. There’s no telling what Victoire’s written, I mean, last letter I got said Teddy was supposed to be visiting with them, so there’s no doubt she’s managed to get a snap or two of him shirtless with her new camera. Among other things.

My name’s Tabby, by the way, Tabby Weasley, Third Year Ravenclaw at Hogwarts School and only daughter of Percy Weasley, Minister of Magic. My da’s still holding to that naïve hope of his that I’ll straighten out and become head girl. Yeah, that will happen. Why would I, anyway? I mean, I’m the delightfully sexy daughter of the Minister with an insanely large ego! Of course I’m going to be a wild child! Really, if da wanted Perfect Saint Daughter, he can just swap with Uncle George for that damn goody-goody cousin of mine, Hannah. I just know some nurse switched us at birth, anyway. We were born on the same day, after all, August twenty-third. I mean, Uncle George and I are so cool, and Hannah and da are just so… ugh. Not to mention neither of them can appreciate good sarcasm.

I turned a corner sharply, thankful I ditched my socks in the summer heat because if I had them on I would have skidded into the wall for sure. There was David, ripping open my letter from Victoire with his chubby jam covered fingers. Why the Hell are little boys to damn dirty all the time, anyway?

“Give me that!” I said, snatching the parchment from his greedy little hands.

And that little bugger started to cry. What. A. Pansy.

It was an almost immediate reaction. All at once, my mum was comforting my brother and my dad was all up in my face, swearing pain of death if I made my brother cry one more time before September first. And I was all like, ‘Psh. Whatev, you sissy.’ Well, no, not really, but that’s what I was thinking. Actually, it was more of a respectful rolling of my hazel eyes, a flick of my long brown curls, and a slightly forced, “Yes, sir.” Da apparated to work and mum stood up, balancing David on her hip with this really angry look on her face. And in that moment I could feel it coming on. The Full Name.

“Tabitha Lanelle,” said mum, the former Penelope Clearwater, sternly. I giggled. She rolled her eyes. “Just behave yourself, Tabby.”

“I will when he does,” I replied swiftly.

“Tabby, he’s three!”

I smirked, “Perfect! Flitwick’s always saying I act like I’m two!”

“Tabitha, that’s not something to brag about!” said mum, a smile tugging at her lips despite the fact she was in ‘Disciplinarian Mode.’

I smiled sweetly, waving my letter in her face, “I’m gonna go read this now, if you don’t mind.”

If mum wasn’t done talking to me, she didn’t put up much of a fight when I ran off across the house to my room to read Victoire’s letter. Skidding to a halt before my door, I banged it open unceremoniously and flew to my window seat for the sake of reading in natural light. Despite a rough tear at the upper left corner and a good layer of jam in the shape of a David sized hand, the letter was in pretty good shape. A lot better then the one I’d received two days ago from Andrea Jordan, which had to be charmed back to readable condition by mum. I smiled, the memories my brother provided of summer, hm? I unfolded the letter and began to decipher Victoire’s loopy letters, a feat that in itself was quite impressive. I nearly laughed when I saw the pet name she used. This meant good news. Hopefully shirtless news.

Tabby Nell,

This weekend was great! Teddy was here, and yes, we did go swimming, James, Al, Teddy, and I. Lily and Will tagged along, too. I managed to snap some good shots of Ted for the decoration of our dormitory this year, thankfully, and believe me, they’re great! I’ll give you your copy on the train. Anyway, how goes life with the family? Hope Uncle Percy hasn’t gone crazy, more so then usual, I mean. Silly Tabby and your juvenile antics!

Can’t wait for school! See you at the train!

Peace and Love,

Victoire

I squealed. She had shirtless pictures of that damn sexy metamorphagus for me! That was my cousin, always looking out for me. We had both developed a taste for the slightly older Lupin boy last year and had been stalking him viciously ever since. From a distance, of course. This year we would be lowly Third Year Ravenclaws, while His Sexiness would be a Fourth Year Gryffindor. Perfect stalking potential, you know. Now, if only time would speed up for me! The next week would be torture waiting for September First!

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