Because I - George Weasley

10: Because I Pretend

When we went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, we found that the Great Hall had been overly decorated during the night.

I followed Fred and George to the end of the table and sat a little ways away from them at their request.

This had been happening for the last week. Every morning, Lee would disappear to go find Madeleine and I ate breakfast at least three feet from the twins so they could angrily discuss what they were going to do to Ludo Bagman when they finally got their hands on him.

I was quite disgruntled about not being allowed to help, so I decided that I'd just sit with my journal and write down every thought that drifted my way. It was like my version of a silent middle finger for being left out.

Before I'd gotten anything written down that morning, Harry, Ron, and Hermione came into the hall, making their way to sit down beside Fred and George.

"It's a bummer, all right," George was saying gloomily to Fred.

"But if he won't talk to us in person, we'll have to send him the letter after all. Or we'll stuff it into his hand. He can't avoid us forever," grumbled Fred.

"Who's avoiding you?" asked Ron, sitting down next to them.

"Wish you would," said Fred, looking irritated at the interruption.

I snorted a laugh. George glared at me for eavesdropping, so I forced my attention back down to my morning soup.

"What's a bummer?" Ron asked George eagerly.

Apparently, I wasn't alone in wanting to be let into their plans.

"Having a nosy git like you for a brother," spat George.

"Don't worry, Ron," I said. "They do the same thing to me."

"But I'm their brother!" he whined.

"Sadly," said Fred under his breath.

At this, Ron stopped trying to invade and looked sadly down at his eggs.

"You two got any ideas on the Triwizard Tournament yet?" Harry asked. "Thought any more about trying to enter?"

"I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen but she wasn't telling," said George bitterly. "She just told me to shut up and get on with transfiguring my raccoon."

"Which you never did," I added.

"Wonder what the tasks are going to be?" said Ron thoughtfully. "You know, I bet we could do them, Harry. We've done dangerous stuff before. . . ."

"Not in front of a panel of judges, you haven't," said Fred. "McGonagall says the champions get awarded points according to how well they've done the tasks."

"Who are the judges?" Harry asked.

"Well, the Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel," said Hermione, and everyone looked around at her, rather surprised. "Because all three of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792, when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on the rampage."

She noticed us all looking at her and said, with what I had come to realize was her usual air of impatience that nobody else, except for maybe me, had read all the books she had, "It's all in Hogwarts, A History. Though, of course, that book's not entirely reliable. A Revised History of Hogwarts would be a more accurate title. Or A Highly Biased and Selective History of Hogwarts, Which Glosses Over the Nastier Aspects of the School."

"What are you on about?" said Ron, though everyone else already knew what was coming.

Sometimes it was hard to listen to Ron speak when he didn't understand something. He was so dense when it came to most things. It shocked me a little every time I realized that him and the twins, two of the secretly most observant people I'd ever met, were actually related.