Four Seasons competition
1. spring
Fred Weasley saw something.
He couldn't quite identify it. It was almost like a haze, a smudge on the horizon, and he squinted at it before heading off to investigate. It seemed to be coming from a little way into the forest, near where Fred knew there was a little clearing and, seeing as he was a Gryffindor, he didn't think about what it could have been before he slipped into the trees. They were just newly budding; there were tiny spots of green on the end of the leaves. Fred tried to tell himself that he didn't notice (because, of course, he was a boy and boys weren't supposed to notice how pretty flowers were), but he did.
It turned out to be smoke.
The smoke was issuing in tiny, delicate swirls from the end of a cigarette, which was clasped in the fingers of a boy who was wearing a Ravenclaw tie. It amused Fred that, for the first few seconds, he was more focused on the fact that it was a Ravenclaw breaking the rules than who it was. Or even the fact that they were smoking.
The boy was tall with broad shoulders, dark hair and handsome features. He had a quill tucked incongruously behind one ear and a piece of parchment in the hand that didn't hold the cigarette. He took a drag and pulled the quill out, scratching something on the parchment.
Fred stood stock still. At least he thought he did, but he always had been clumsy, so the crack of the twig under his foot didn't startle him much. The other boy (oh dammit all, what was his name?) jumped violently and spun around; Fred noticed the way one hand darted into his robe pocket towards his wand. When the boy saw him he relaxed, pressing one hand to his furiously beating heart as though he was trying to hold it in his chest.
"Fuck!" he swore loudly, and Fred grinned, pleased to have pranked someone so thoroughly, even when he wasn't trying to. The boy sat back down and took a long drag of the cigarette once more, blowing the smoke out in a little column. "Fuck." He repeated, quieter. "You scared the hell out of me."
"Those things kill, you know," said Fred by way of an answer, seating himself comfortably under a nearby tree and crossing his legs. The boy rolled his eyes sarcastically.
"Oh, really? I hadn't heard."
Fred was reminded of how much he hated Ravenclaws.
"I'm not sure what the school policy on smoking is," he said, nonchalantly pulling up a blade of grass, "but I'm sure that you're not supposed to."
"I thought you knew all the rules, being so skilled at breaking them."
"I have never smoked," replied the redhead, with a hint of admiration. "Pretty much the only thing we haven't done, actually."
"Alcohol?"
"Third year."
"Ah." The boy inhaled once more, and Fred took the opportunity to study him.
"I know you!" he exclaimed, throwing up his hands. "Why do I know you?"
The boy shrugged, exhaled. The smoke twisted into the sky. "I know you," he said. "You're Fred Weasley. Or George," he added, as an afterthought.
"Everyone knows us," replied Fred, without any sense of boasting. It was merely a statement of fact.
"Where's your other half?" questioned the boy curiously. Fred glanced at him sharply, then returned to watching the smoke.
"Somewhere," he said evasively. "It doesn't matter. Anyway." He stopped, the recollection hitting him like a lightning bolt from the blue sky. "I know who you are!"
"Congratulations," said the Ravenclaw dryly.
"You're dating my sister!" cried Fred, in the manner of somebody who had made a life-changing discovery, rather than just realising the identity of a smoking Ravenclaw. But then, he always had been dramatic. "Technically, I should be threatening you right now."
"Dated," corrected the boy, but Fred wasn't listening.
"Michael Corner. Oh yeah! You're in the DA. Wow, I astound myself sometimes. Merlin," he paused. "Wait, what?"
"What?"
"What did you say?"
"When?" asked Michael, smiling around the cigarette.
"Just now. You said 'dated'." The Weasley twin made air quotes around the word.
Michael winced, took a breath. "Erm…yeah. She dumped me. Today, actually." He laughed slightly, inhaled, made a mark on the parchment, and then crossed it out. Fred scowled.
"What did you do to her?" he said.
"Making up for lost threatening time?"
"Corner…"
"Nothing!" Michael tapped the cigarette and a bit of silver ask fell to the floor. "Honestly. I was pissed because she was flirting with Thomas, we had a row, and she dumped me. Really."
"Thomas?"
"And they say I have a short attention span."
"Thomas?"
"No," sighed the Ravenclaw, "I'm Michael Corner."
"No, I-" Fred rolled his eyes and sighed. "Dean Thomas?"
"Yes, Dean Thomas."
"I thought he was gay."
Michael froze, half way between standing and sitting. It was quite comical, and Fred remembered the posture for mocking later. "You're kidding."
"Nope, perfectly serious."
"Well, fuck!"
"You swear a lot, don't you," Fred said contemplatively, standing and brushing of his trousers. "And you smoke, I'm assuming you drink-"
"Oh, thanks-"
"You're not exactly the average Ravenclaw, are you?"
Michael held up the parchment, which was covered in etchings that made no sense whatsoever to the Weasley. "Ancient Runes homework," he said.
"Doesn't count," he dismissed. They walked back to the castle in silence, and Fred wondered what had happened to the cigarette. He also wondered how they had got up in such perfect unison.
"Well," said Michael, "if Thomas is gay then I've just broken up our relationship for noth-Oh, wait. It's all good."
Fred stared at him in astonishment, but Michael did not elaborate.
"What the-?"
"How articulate."
"Must you constantly be so sarcastic, Corner?"
"Must you constantly be so annoying, Weasley?"
"I know you smoke."
"I know you drank alcohol in third year."
They glared at each other, having reached a stalemate. Fred broke first (inwardly cursing himself for having revealed that titbit of information).
"Fine, whatever. I'll see you around."
The daffodils were in full bloom, and, in opposition to the fiery Gryffindor, Michael Corner was the sort of boy to notice this as Fred Weasley walked away.
"Hey, Terry," he said quietly, as the blond boy appeared at his side, "you would not believe the weird conversation I just had."
"Dean Thomas is gay, according to Padma," replied Terry, grinning smugly.
"Oh, go away."