Author's Note: This is the beginning of a challenge of 100 prompts. So, logically, there should be 100 chapters to this fic. If I complete the challenge. Most of the chapters are not going to be in chronological order, nor will any of them be very long, so we'll be jumping all over the place as far as Fredmus moments go. But, I found it fitting to start at the beginning with the first chapter. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Not technically. Even the name Fletwock belongs to J.K. Rowling.
It was downright impossible to miss a Weasley if one was nearby. There were other red and orange haired students, but there was something so vibrant about the Weasley hair that made them stick out like red, sore thumbs.
Despite this, Seamus Finnigan noticed none of the four Weasley's present in the Great Hall as he sat on the stool at the beginning of his first year at Hogwarts, Sorting Hat about to be dropped onto his sandy-haired head. He gripped onto the edge of the stool when the Hat slipped onto his head and over his eyes, engulfing him in black. He licked his lips, gulping.
With a bellow of "GRYFFINDOR" Seamus was ushered in with raucous applause. He sat himself down, nerves slowly fading away now that he at least knew to which house he belonged, a wavering smile of relief on his lips. A hand clamped onto his shoulder.
"Well done!" Seamus glanced up, now beaming by the warm welcome—pleased he'd ended up in a friendly house—to meet a pair of dancing brown eyes, creased by the amused smirk that adorned the ginger boy's face. "Fred Weasley," he introduced himself, sliding his hand down the length of Seamus's arm and pumping his hand vigorously.
An identical set of shimmering brown eyes peered around Fred. "Well done indeed!" this twin exclaimed, taking Seamus's hand once Fred was done. "George Weasley."
Together they grinned broadly, saying in unison, "Welcome to the best house."
"It's gonna be a great year," George assured him.
Fred winked. "Lots of fun to be had."
And then it was time for the next student—something Fletwock—to be sorted, and the Gryffindor table settled back into silence and hushed whispers.