(no subject)

[on_a_corner]

So today was my 17th birthday.

Have been getting presents owled to me since this morning from various relatives and the usual birthday letter from Mum and Dad. Only a letter from them, since they learnt long ago it was just better to give Michael and myself a 50 galleon deposit into our vaults. That way during Summer we could go to Diagon Alley or wherever and just buy what we actually want, rather than end up being disappointed.

Now I just have to work out what I want.

Hmm you know this is a perfect time to be 'the annoying little sister' and dish out some dirt on Mikey!

And despite it being my birthday, I thought I would be most generous and give all of you a gift. A gift of insight into how Michael Corner really is.

1. My brother's a big overprotective idiot who actually knows that I know how to give a guy a black eye but pretends otherwise because really, guys need to feel like they're accomplishing something, even something as asinine as scowling at any boy I talk to about something other than homework.



2. My brother's reputation as the Casanova of Hogwarts isn't all it's cracked up to be. Personally I think he's totally clueless with girls. After all, he gave me a copy of Beater's Bible two years ago for Christmas. And then stole it from me every other week or so to read it himself. But then again, hey, if girls find him attractive, I suppose that's their loss, and they have my deepest sympathy.



3. Fiona and I are still not on speaking terms. It's really easy to not speak to a roommate if she never lets anyone get a word in edgewise once she gets going.



4. For all that, Michael is pretty cool as far as big brothers go. He kindly and considerately grew out of the hair-pulling habit after I kicked him hard enough to bruise his shins three years ago, and I fondly remember him wincing and smiling alternatively and telling me to use that same move, aimed higher, on nasty evil boys with dishonourable intentions. He also helps me with homework and shares Honeydukes sweets without quibbling, though coffee is a different matter entirely.



5. We don't talk Quidditch. He supports the Falcons and I prefer Puddlemere. It would be disastrous if we went there, and we both know it.



6. No, he's not always this weird when ill. Mum caught him trying to sneak out of bed to play on his new toy broom when he was about seven when he had the chicken pox. At midnight. Twice. Boy, she was mad.



7. I'm not quite sure what he was thinking when he took Divination back in the day. So I'm kind of glad he dropped it after flunking the OWL.



8. Once upon a time when he was a bit tipsy after a Quidditch win he took it into his head to come up with a hundred-fifty-question pop quiz about yours truly for potential boyfriends. Makes the one Lockhart came up with for his first class back in the day look like child's play in comparison. Horrid, isn't it? God help any nieces I may eventually have.



9. Another time under similar circumstances he came up with a similarly exhaustive list of Quidditch plays and strategies. Had he not passed out and enabled me to confiscate and hide said list, I'm sure his team would've ambushed and murdered him by now. Take this all into account and for pity's sake do not let him drink to excess after Quidditch games.



10. In conclusion, my brother's a giant, interfering, overprotective prat, and I have no idea what Tracey Davis sees in him, but if she loves him even half as much as I do, I'll be quite happy for him.