Make Me Fall

10. Poor

We got our last Charms essays back today. Everyone in the class got an E or an A. One or two even got an O. Do you know what I got? I got a P. P for POOR. I failed. I failed CHARMS! Flitwick hasn't failed anyone ever and I got a P! What am I going to do? Mum and Dad will be so mad if they find out! I thought I was doing well in Charms. I always do my homework and get it in on time!

On a lighter note, Ron and Harry are being nicer to me since I got permission for the Gryffindor team to reband. I've been sitting with them in some classes. I don't think Draco likes it, but I'm tired of him. He's so stuck up. I think I still like him a little, but right now I just want to focus on not failing. Oh wait...

I put my quill down and wipe my eyes on the back of my hands. Getting a P shocked me quite a bit, especially since it was from Flitwick.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

I glance up and see the Weasley twins. I blush, embarassed to have been caught crying.

"Nothing," I lie. They exchange a glance and sit down on either side of me.

"Come on," Fred says, "you can tell us."

"Yeah," George says, "come on."

"I'm failing Charms," I tell them with a sigh, "I got a P for my last essay."

Fred picks up the essay and starts reading it while George puts one arm around my shoulders and gives me a squeeze.

"It's your lucky day," he tells me, "we are experts at Charms."

I look at him sceptically, making him laugh.

"I'll let you in on a little secret," he says, "we both got an O in Charms."

"An O?" I exclaim, "really?"

George nods.

"And after what you did for the Quidditch team, I think the least we can do is help you with your Charms," he says, "right, Fred?"

Fred nods, still reading my essay. George moves around and leans over his shoulder. Fred finishes reading first and hands me a handkerchief. I blow my nose and wipe my eyes.

"What you're doing," Fred says, "is writing it like a Transfiguration essay. Or a Potions essay. But Charms essays are different, they're meant to read differently."

"Shh," George hushes his brother frowning. Fred leans over to me.

"He doesn't have very good concentrat- OW!"

George smirks and hands my essay back.

"He's an idiot," he says, motioning to Fred, "but he's right. You need to change your formatting and style."

"My what?"

They exchange a look.

"Alright, have you got red ink?" George asks. I hand him a bottle and he starts going through my essay.

"You don't have to do this," I tell them, "I know there's only a few weeks until your first game."

"Well, Angelina isn't hounding us right now," Fred says, taking the quill from George and circling a passage.

"What about your NEWTs? Don't you need to study?"

They both laugh. I sit back and watch them editing my essay.

According to Fred and George, I'm doing nothing right and everything wrong. They went over my essay and told me all the things that I need to work on. They're brilliant. They've agreed to tutor me every Tuesday and Thursday, as long as they don't have Quidditch. I sort of like to pretend they're my big brothers. Ginny is so lucky.

I haven't spoken to Draco since Potions. I've been avoiding him. I just don't know how I feel about him. I like him, but he's so judgemental. And I'm worried that if I turn out not to be a pureblood, he'll dump me and that would hurt more than I can even imagine.