Spring

It was a hot spring day. The lake, sparkling in the sunshine, was surrounded by students. Some were enjoying a last-minute respite before the exams started, be it O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s. A courageous few had braved the lake's waters which, while shallow, were notoriously cold even at this time of year - not to mention the always-lurking giant squid. Others, like Tom and his friends - Scorpius, Nott and Harper - were just enjoying the weather while it lasted. They whiled away the day happily in the shade of a tall old pine tree, chatting, discussing the summer to come, and laughing at the already-panicking fifth-years. Well, three of them did. Scorpius was taking his O.W.L.s this year too.

Exam madness, Nott called it. The clammy hands, the wide bloodshot eyes, the frantic, manic revising; it happened every year. Today, they'd made a game - Scorpius and Nott's idea, of course - of predicting which of the over-stressed, over-worked fifth years would be the first to crack beneath the pressure. Scorpius, never one to let a family grudge die easily, predicted Albus Potter as the first to snap. Nott, following a similar rationale of selecting the Gryffindor student he hated the most, plumped for Rose Weasley. "Little Miss Perfect?" Scorpius laughed. "No way."

Nott sneered back at the older blond-haired boy. "You fancy her or something?"

Before Scorpius could reply angrily to the contrary, Tom drew their attention with a nod over his shoulder. "It'll be her," he said, indicating a passing Hufflepuff girl as she sobbed into a frilly pink handkerchief. He didn't really enjoy these sort of games, but he couldn't be bothered with arguing on a day like this.

Scorpius followed Tom's gaze, nodding thoughtfully. "You think? Care to make it interesting?" he offered.

"I don't have any money," Tom reminded him dryly.

"Oh." Scorpius grinned. "You know, we should really get you a job. Harp, your dad runs that shop just off Diagon Alley, right? How about in there?"

"I don't think the orphanage would like that," Tom said quickly. "Besides, I don't think I'm very employable. You know, universally hated and all of that."

"I'd employ you," Harper commented as she lay on the grass beside him.

"Yeah," Nott added. "Come round to my house this summer, you can do my chores for me. I'll give you a few Sickles."

"I'll pass, thanks." Tom tossed a stone, and it landed twenty feet into the lake with a soft splash. "Maybe I should just rob a bank."

Nott grinned at that. "You probably could."

"Sadly," Tom sighed sarcastically, "the criminal life isn't for me."

"A shame," Scorpius said. "It's in your blood."

"Let's see your wand movements," Professor Flitwick called in his strange, squeaky voice. Dutifully, the rest of the class wiggled their wands in a complicated motion. Half-heartedly, a second later, Tom followed. Lost in his thoughts, his attention was elsewhere; and besides, he already knew the Summoning Charm. He'd learnt that in second year. "Now say the words," Flitwick continued, raising his wand arm into the air. Even outstretched, the man was still remarkably tiny. Tom wondered briefly if the elderly Professor had been on the wrong end of a Shrinking Charm at some point. "Accio," Flitwick called, loudly and clearly.

Thirty students, all packed into the crowded, cluttered Charms classroom, waved their wands, and muttered the words, but only half their respective cushions obliged in soaring across the room. Accio, Tom thought lazily, and his frilly embroidered-pink cushion leapt into the air with the others. Harper's did, too, and Lily's; Nott's stayed resolutely still. Tom's two friends had been seated on the other side of the classroom by the cruelties of the alphabetical-seating system; however, the system found Tom sitting next to Lily, so he couldn't really complain.

Beside him, as Tom's cushion settled gently onto the tabletop, Lily nudged him with her elbow. "Ow. What?" he asked.

"You didn't say the incantation," she pointed out. "I was - er - watching you."

"So?" he said, shrugging.

"So you must have done it non-verbally. So that's really advanced stuff. N.E.W.T. stuff."

Again, Tom shrugged. "It just sort of - comes naturally to me. Look." Pointing his wand at the pink cushion before him, Tom thought Repulso! The cushion flew across the room like a rocket, almost striking Flitwick in the back of the head. "I shouldn't know that charm, but I just sort of do. I don't know how. I've always known things I shouldn't. Remembered things I-"

Abruptly, he realised he might have said a bit too much. Lily was giving him a look that was almost...admiring? Fearful? Whatever her expression was, after a moment or two it faded to a wry grin. "Well, I wish it came naturally to me. Instead," she sighed, reopening her copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Four, "I'll have to do it the long way."

Tom was about to reply - but then someone tapped him on the back. Turning, he saw Hugo Weasley, sitting with two Gryffindor boys Tom didn't know, and for some intuitive reason Tom didn't like the expressions on their faces. His intuition was confirmed a second later. "Hey, freak," said Hugo, staring at Tom - at his pale skin, his black hair, his crimson slitted eyes. "Yeah, you." Reaching into the inner pockets of his robes, Hugo pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet. "Seen this?"

Lily tensed beside Tom as, smirking, Hugo tossed the newspaper towards Tom. Catching it against his chest, he read the banner headline there; STUDENTS CLAIM RIDDLE BOY UNSTABLE. An Elizabeth Selwyn story. Hugo's face was expectant, as were his two friends'; their faces fell when Tom simply smiled thinly and tossed the newspaper back towards them. "Sorry to disappoint," he said coolly. "Actually, I'm a very mellow person."

Scowling, the red-haired teen turned to Lily, watching events unfold with her arms crossed angrily. "Why are you talking to this freak, Lily?" he demanded. "Come back here, sit with us."

"We'll squeeze up," leered one of his friends.

"Get lost, Hugo," Lily told him firmly. Grabbing Tom's arm, she turned him firmly forward, away from the obviously-disappointed Gryffindor boys. "Don't listen to them, Tom, they're just jealous."

Privately, Tom greatly doubted that, but he appreciated it. He amused himself - and Lily - for the rest of the hour by surreptitiously casting an Impediment Jinx on Hugo's cushion every time the red-haired teen tried to Summon it towards him. Afterwards they went to the library, to their own half-hidden little alcove, and chatted and studied and laughed for hours. All was well.