Because I - George Weasley

1: Because I Am Jordie

I took a long sip of butterbeer while the game continued. As the Irish scored another goal, I stood up, booing the team for being as good as they were.

"Merlin, Jo. You're way too into this," Chai chastised me. "Or you're insanely drunk, and at this point I can't really tell."

I pulled a half drank bottle of Firewhiskey out from under my chair, and held my index and thumb up to indicate a small amount.

"Lil' bit drunk."

Chai snorted and the bottle out of my hand.

"You're a horrible drunk." He pointed up towards the top box seats. "There's a big Bulgarian guy up there that keeps looking down here like he knows us."

I was halfway through a sip of butterbeer when I turned and saw the Bulgarian Minister of Magic smiling down at me. I just barely managed to keep from spitting everywhere while I smiled and waved back at him. He motioned for me to come up there. I nodded nervously and looked towards Chai.

"So, listen. Funny story... I used to have tea with him every Sunday for a summer, so now I feel inclined to go have a conversation with him. I'll be right back."

Chai didn't look surprised by this. At this point, he was used to me knowing the most random and sometimes the most powerful people in the wizarding community.

I waved back to Oblansk and started up the stairs to the top box. I paid extra close attention to each step as I walked. Not only was I slightly intoxicated, but two different Ministers of Magic were watching me now, as Oblansk had now gotten Cornelius Fudge's attention.

"George! Watch out!" said a girl in the top box.

I looked up in time to see George Weasley coming down the steps looking in another direction as he did so. By the time he'd noticed me, it was already too late.

In that same situation, a normal person would have just steadied themselves and kept going. But no. The second that idiot redhead ran into me, down I went. Well, almost.

George stumbled a little but still managed to grab my arms and save me from falling down. The Butterbeer, though, was not so lucky. It slipped from my hand, dropping and shattering all over both of our shoes.

"Thanks," I muttered, looking back down at the steps, trying to kick glass bits off my shoes.

"Sorry 'bout that," said George, his ears turning as red as his hair.

I looked back at George, quickly pulling my arms out of his grip. He smiled sheepishly and looked away.

"You owe me a Butterbeer," I smiled and quickly sidestepped him, running up the stands.

I met up with the Bulgarian and British ministers and was then instructed, one after another, to shake hands with mostly everyone in the top box while one of the ministers would say something along the lines of:

"She's a very bright girl!"

"She'll be incredibly powerful in the ministry one day, I'll bet on it."

"Oh yes yes, she could do anything her heart desires."

"She's got all the right connections. She's managed to impress people who don't even speak the same language as her!"

When it came to row after the Weasley party dead gray eyes looked at me over a pointed pale nose. Lucius Malfoy looked utterly disgusted by the prospect of shaking hands with me.

"Sorry, Fudge. Miss. Winters and I have already met. I'll just say that I'd rather not associate with anyone of her nature."

"So kind of you, Malfoy. Isn't just so ironic that you say that while sitting next to my triplets? Jet, Jasmine," I forced a tight lipped smile, "Doing well, I hope?"