XI. Wood
As much as Theodore had hated being stuck inside while people danced around the Great Hall, he wasn't particularly keen on following Blaise into the Forbidden Forest. It was forbidden for a reason, and frankly he would rather have died from the boredom induced by the Yule Ball than from a werewolf bite.
Blaise, however, had got it into his head that they were going to go and sit somewhere on the edges of the Forbidden Forest, and once Blaise made up his mind about something he was stubborn as a Re'em.
That was how Theodore found himself sitting on a tree root, getting his brand new dress robes covered with moss and snow and dirt. He would have thought that Blaise would have hated the dirt, but the other boy didn't seem to mind. He had already swallowed the contents of a quarter of a bottle of firewhisky, so he was far too drunk to care about such trivial things as the cold or getting into trouble.
"You know what, Theo? Tonight is good," Blaise cheered, taking another swig of firewhisky then collapsing against Theodore's shoulder.
"I've had worse nights," Theodore replied.
"You know what, Theo?"
"What?"
"I love you," Blaise slurred, a stupid smile on his face.
"Say that again and I'll leave you out here for the werewolves to eat."