The Eighth Weasley Kid

Jessie is the eighth kid in her family. With seven brothers and one sister, everyone thinks she will do better. There's one problem: She can't. Her brother Percy was the Head Boy. Bill and Charlie were always good at everything. Ron was Prefect. Ginny is good at Quidditch.

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1. Chapter 1

Jessie sat on the windowsill in her room. Well, the attic really. She used to sleep with Ron, her youngest brother, until Harry came. Ever since Harry came no one paid attention to her. Whenever she came down to breakfast or lunch it dinner, there was Harry. Middle if the attention. Jessie couldn't help but hate the guy. She looked out at the boys playing Quidditch. Ginny was playing too. It was her and Ron against Harry. Jessie shook her head and looked down at her book. It was Percy's copy if Hogwarts, A History.  She was reading it again for the seventh time. She wanted to know everything she could about Hogwarts. Jessie had read other books as well. But none kept her attention as well as this one. She read about the downfall of You-Know-Who against Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. Jessie called him The Boy Who Stole Ron. There was a knock on the trapdoor to her room. No one knew that she liked to read. Jessie scrambled around, hiding the books. She opened it and was surprised to see him. Harry.

"Yes?" She asked, a little meaner than she intended. He looked hurt and she immediately regretted it.

"Err... I was wondering if..." He looked around the room, noticing the mess she made hiding the books. He pointed. "Is that a book? I thought you were just starting Hogwarts with Ginny."

"I am." She said madly. "So what did you want?"

"I just wanted to know if you wanted to hang out." He blushed a little at that.

"Oh, uh. Sure." She says. "Where?"

"I just thought we could go to the hill after dinner." He looked at his feet. Jessie could tell he wasn't good at this.

"Sure." She shrugged. Just then they heard a yell.

"Dinner!" Jessie's mother, Molly, called up. Jessie walked down the stairs, knowing what would happen. Her mother would make enough for eight, leaving one person out: Jessie. Jessie kept missing out and always had to make her own food. When Jessie got downstairs an in the kitchen, she was surprised. There was nine plates. Nice sets if silverware. Nine cups. They all ate. No one was left out.

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