Miseris Malfoy

Chapter 9

Weeks later, Ron and I sit in Charms class, discussing our holiday plans. Hermione tries her best to pay attention to Mr. Flitwick, but joins the conversation every once in awhile. Draco is still not sure if he likes my Gryffindor mates, but he has stopped teasing them. After Charms, I run into Fred and George. Then, our whole bunch is talking about Christmas as we head off to the Great Hall for supper.

"We have a surprise after supper," Fred and George both whisper in my ears as we enter the Hall.

"I look forward to it," I say, smirking at them. We go to our own tables and began eating. Draco and I began talking about where we were going this break.

"Mother said she and Father were off to France again," I say, wishing I could go along. I had been to France before, but only as a small child.

"We have to have Christmas at the castle?" Draco says dramatically. I roll my eyes at the typical white chick I had for a brother.

Dinner ends, and I am immediately swept away by none other than Fred and George. They each grasp one of my arms, leading my to the Quidditch field. We are about to enter, when my eyes are covered.

"Ready?" George's voice asks. I nod, and he takes his hands off my face. I am met with a present from each of them, both uniquely wrapped.

"We had to keep them out here, because they were too big to fit under our beds," Fred explains,

"So, we reckoned we might as well give them to you now!" George says, grinning widely. Fred hands me his present first, and I can't help but wonder how he managed to wrap something this large. I open it roughly to reveal a life sized horse stuffed animal. I gawk at it for a moment, before laughing hilariously. The twins join me, and I hug Fred in thanks.

"This is perfect! Thanks a million," I say, still giggling slightly. I regain my calm composure, and turn to George.

He holds out a small box, small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. I open it to find a 3 small charms: an M, a horseshoe, and the number 1991. I look up at him to find him staring back at me.

"Can you help me put them on?" I whisper, still slightly shocked that he would get me such expensive looking things. He smiles, and gingerly holds my wrist, clasping each onto the bracelet.

"They look great!" Fred exclaims. I smile down at my bracelet, and my beautiful new charms.

"Thank you!" I say, hugging George. When I let go, I notice a small hint of pink on his cheeks. I brush it off hastily.

"I got you each something!" I say, holding up a small red box and two letters. I hand them the box first, and they immediately rip it to shreds. Inside is a whole bag of dungbombs, and a big grin is placed on both their faces.

"Thanks a million, Miseris! We just ran out of these!" Fred exclaims.

"Yeah! Now what are those?" George asks, pointing to the letters.

I giggle, then give them the letters. Inside each is a poem, written by me. I wait patiently as they read them.

Fred's poem:

Dear Fred,

I hope you like poems,

'Cause that's what this is.

It may be tacky,

But it goes like this:

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

You're really funny,

But I am too.

You make me laugh,

When I'm feeling down,

I laugh so hard,

I fall on the ground.

Now for my final stanza,

I thought I'd make you laugh too,

Instead of giving you shit,

I thought I'd give you poo.

~The Horrible Author, Miseris

George's poem:

Dear George,

I can't write for my life,

But for you I will try,

This is going to be sappy,

So try not to cry.

Before I met you,

I didn't know laughter,

All I am to my parents,

Is an irresponsible daughter.

You showed me the light,

And it's never been brighter,

The happiness I feel,

Has never been larger.

You're the reason I smile,

(This might go for Fred too,)

I wouldn't be the person I am,

If it wasn't for you.

Fred bursts into laughter and hugs me. He then looks at his brother, who is on the brink of tears. He smiles at me, and pulls me into a hug. I hug him back firmly, supporting his tall figure.

"Are you ok, Gerogie?" Fred asks, putting a hand on both of our backs. We let go and face him.

"I'm good. It was just a really touching poem," he says.

"Really? Mine said poo in it!" He exclaims. I chuckle to myself as Fred offers George the poem to read.