"Revolting!" Fred agrees.

Millicent giggles.  She looks very proud to have Contributed To The Banter!

"Fred tried to get rid of the rest of it by sticking it in my Christmas stocking."

"You're Fred, you idiot."

Conspiratorially, to Millicent: "I don't know how he tells us apart."

Millicent has by this point been reduced to a giggling mess.

"They grumble about it when other people do that joke," Ron says.

"Anyway, Scabbers liked cheese when Bill found him."

(Considering how in-hysterics Millicent is Clover decides to do the mouth-twitch she worked out how to do last year that makes it look like she's trying not to laugh.)  "Maybe he got self-conscious about contributing to stereotypes."

"Told you he was smarter than he looked, Ron!"

A tiny little gray-brown head pokes itself out from under Ron's hat!

"Awww is that him?"

Ron's eyes cross a bit as he looks up, and he holds up a hand for Scabbers to climb down into.

His gaze darts between Fred and George and Millicent, and then settles rather firmly on Clover.

"Hiiii!" Millicent coos.  "Hello!  Are you Scabbers?  My name is Millicent!"  She holds out a finger for Scabbers to sniff.

Snifsnifsnifsnif.  He appears to approve.  (He's still keeping one eye on Clover though.)

Ron looks like he's not sure quite what to do with the attention-by-proxy, but pleased nonetheless.  "Do you want to hold him?"

"Yes!!!!!" Millicent exclaims, very quietly so as not to startle Scabbers but very enthusiastically nonetheless.

Scabbers is happy to be passed around and gently scritched.

Clover is determinedly wearing her sweet darling smile.  People like people who like animals, she is pretty sure.  She pretends to be charmed by Scabbers.  She can't quite pull off as-charmed-as-Millicent, but that probably wouldn't be on brand for little Clover Evans-Potter anyway.  Coo coo scritch scritch et cetera.

After a few minutes of this Scabbers goes back into Ron's hat, Ron looking rather pleased with himself.

"Is it Ronnie's turn with the family pet?" comes a snide girl's voice.

Clover turns and sets her jaw.  She recognizes that voice and has no interest in its alliance.

For a moment she isn't even being sweet young Clover Evans-Potter any more; she just swishes to face her enemy and fixes her with Maledict Gaunt's glare and says,

"Leave."

Pansy's not fazed, though, nor are Crabbe or Goyle behind her.

"Oh you don't know about the Weasleys do you Clover?" Pansy says with sickly sweetness.  "There's about twenty of them and they only have one familiar between them."  Crabbe and Goyle snicker.

Okay that's not going to work yet.  Ugh.  Instead she turns up the sweetness of her grin a few notches past what a child's face can naturally do and says, "This doesn't interest me, Pansy.  Go away."