Greyson was soaked from head to toe as the snow on his clothes and in his hair melted. Fred and George had decided a snowball fight was the best thing to do to get out of the castle and keep Greyson's spirits lifted.
"I still can't believe you had those snowballs chasing Quirrel's turban," Greyson said with a shake of his head.
"You were howling," George retorted. "I saw you on the ground, holding your sides."
"I never said it was bad," Greyson grinned. "Just that I couldn't believe it."
"Well, he gave us such a great target," Fred snickered as they walked to the Great Hall for the Christmas feast. "It would have been a waste not to." They sat over at the Gryffindor table by Harry and Ron, who were still playing wizard's chess.
"You two have been playing that game an awful lot," Greyson said as an idea took root in his mind.
"Yeah, and Ron keeps winning," Harry sniffed, eyes narrowed in suspicion as if he suspected the pieces on the board might be moving of their own volition when he wasn't looking.
"Mind if I play a match?" Greyson asked.
"Sure," Harry sighed in relief. "It's not like I'm much good." Greyson nodded and waited for their match to end, filling his plate with roasted meats and buttered potatoes.
Once Harry lost to Ron once again, he and Greyson swapped places and Greyson listened intently to Ron explain the rules. They seemed simple enough but the game obviously required quite quite a bit of foresight and patience to be any good. Greyson wasn't sure how well he'd fare, but the talking pieces and their fluid movements were a spectacle all on their own.
Greyson played terribly the first few rounds as he exercised his understanding of the rules and strategies of the game.
"Don't send me there!" the knight yelled for what seemed to be the hundredth time. "Don't you see his queen?"
"I am in charge here, knight," he snapped, leaving no room for argument. "If I choose to sacrifice you to his queen in order to win then I will. But if you keep talking and telling our opponent about moves they could make, then it will not help us in securing their king." After that, his pieces became remarkably quiet and obedient and Greyson revelled in the feeling of control he finally attained. Magic was all about showing confidence and being sure of yourself, after all.
"How'd you do that?" Harry demanded.
"Do what?" Greyson asked distractedly.
"Get them to stop talking," he replied.
"Oh, I told them to. Honestly, magic is all about being sure of yourself and commanding it," Greyson explained. "Like when you ride your broom. If you were even the least bit uncertain, you wouldn't be half as good as you are." Harry nodded, seeming to take in what Greyson was telling him with all the seriousness of a practical exam.
Eventually, Greyson truly got the hang of wizard's chess and managed to beat Ron at one game. "You are really good at strategy Ron." Greyson blinked as he realized that all the food was gone from the trays and looked around in confusion. "Where'd the food go?"
"Dumbledore got rid of it," George laughed. "Feast ended, but you were too wrapped up in your game."
"Oh," Greyson said. "I'll just go to the kitchens then. I'm sure that I can get a snack."
"How do you know where the kitchens are?" Fred asked.
"I like to see the house elves sometimes. They're kind of adorable with their giant floppy bat ears and big eyes," he responded. "I see them a lot in the Slytherin common room."
"House elves?" Harry parroted.
"Yeah, they clean the common rooms and do the laundry and cooking," Greyson listed off. "They're really friendly but they don't like conversing with me too much. And they call me sir an awful lot, a bit annoying, but what can you do?"
Soon, they heard the clacking sound of boots and saw Professor McGonagall approaching their group, looking the most relaxed Greyson had ever seen her. "Merry Christmas, boys," she hummed cheerily.
"Merry Christmas, Professor," they chorused happily.
"Mr. Greyson, I was wanting to know how you're enjoying your stay in Gryffindor Tower," she said.
"It's been great," Greyson smiled, but then a thought occurred to him and his nose crinkled. "Except for Percy."
"Percy?" she repeated, confused.
"Yeah," he lowered his head carefully, unsure what his expression would look like with his chest still feeling a little raw. "He was just... being a bit insufferable, Professor." He got up from the table quickly and started putting a little space between himself and everyone else. "I'll see you all back in the tower. Night, professor." With a respectful bow to McGonagall and a wave to his friends, he left to go to the kitchens and totally missed how the professor was turning to look at Harry with raised eyebrows and a stern look. Maybe they had some pie or cobbler for him to bring back to the common room.
Greyson returned to Gryffindor tower toting a basket of goodies to share with Harry and the Weasleys. "I have snacks," he announced to the room at large. "They gave me a custard pie for each of us and made me a sandwich out of the roasted meat and gravy."
"Cool," Harry said, jumping up to come grab a pie. "You were gone a long time."
"I was talking to a couple of the house elves," Greyson explained, sitting down with his sandwich. "Quibby and Kirk are very vocal now that they know that the thing that 'pleases me most' is conversation. They were telling me about all kinds of stories about things that have happened over the years at the castle in the past 100 or so years. Did you know house elves don't necessarily serve a family per se, but rather a home. So all the house elves here are bound to Hogwarts and not any particular headmaster or teacher."
"That's cool I guess," Harry murmured, focusing on his pie while Ron busied himself with picking out his own.
"Yeah. Oh and they packed a pie for Percy too," he said. "Where is he anyway? Hiding in his room like usual?"
"No, he's with McGonagall… as he should be," George whispered the last part petulantly, sticking a finger full of custard in his mouth.
"O-oh..." he stuttered, attempting to mentally prepare himself for being kicked out of the tower. "I guess I should go get my things..."
"What for?" Fred asked. "McGonagall was furious when she heard how he had been treating you. Interrogated us like a prison guard, she did."
"What?" Greyson blinked.
"Me and Ron," Harry admitted. "She asked us about what had been happening, so we told her." Greyson nodded along and quietly ate his sandwich on autopilot, deep in thought.
Eventually, the portrait door opened and in came a very distraught Percy. He immediately made a beeline for Greyson, who schooled his face and merely looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.
"You!" he hissed, pointing straight at Greyson's face.
Irritation immediately swelled in his chest, and he tossed aside any worry he had started to feel for Percy only moments before. He swatted the finger away. "What about me?" he demanded hotly, setting down his sandwich and squaring his shoulders. Satisfaction warmed his face as Percy took a hesitant step back, obviously intimidated. Good. Greyson wouldn't let himself be walked all over again. The twins had his back. Harry and Ron did too. Percy, of all people, wouldn't hurt him again.
"You just had to go and tattle on me to McGonagall," he accused.
"Tattle? You make it sound like I was upset you took away my favorite toy or something," Greyson snorted. "I never went to McGonagall and all I told her was that you were just being your normal, insufferable self. Anything beyond that was on McGonagall asking around, not me. She obviously didn't like what she heard."
"Like I'd believe a Slytherin," he huffed, sticking his nose in the air and raising his already grating voice in a frail attempt at seeming in control. "I hope you're happy now, though. She told me I was no longer a prefect."
"I am," he admitted. "Though, now I'm going to have two custard pies instead of one since you're such a damn ass. And maybe being a normal student will turn your attitude down a notch and get you off your high horse." He let a thoroughly satisfied smile stretch across his face and delighted in Percy's exaggeratedly offended look.
Percy turned red and stormed off to his room, leaving a few mumbled insults in his wake. Greyson collapsed onto the couch, done dealing with Percy and his attitude.
"Well, that was intense," George snickered.
"Yeah," Greyson agreed. "Anyone want Percy's pie? I'm not too hungry right now, actually."
"Sure," Ron said, grabbing it before anyone else could even open their mouths.
Greyson chuckled and got up, grabbing his book on dragons. "I think I'm going to read for a little bit," he told them. "Oh, and Harry, don't forget what I said this morning." He was not about to have his little brother leave to go exploring the forbidden section of the library in the dead of night without him. But he wasn't going to say it outright, not wanting the twins to ask to tag along. Who knew what kind of trouble those two would get him and Harry in.
"I won't," Harry promised and waved him off with a small and reassuring smile. With that, he nodded and headed to the room he was staying in, feeling a bit lighter. If every Christmas was going to be like this one he couldn't wait for next year.