(Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire—Chapter 27: Padfoot Returns)
Verity sat at the far end of the Slytherin table, alone. Her classmates were gossiping about the third Triwizard task, what it might be, how it could top the second, but she concentrated on finishing breakfast and getting outdoors. The enchanted ceiling was perfectly, cloudlessly blue, and sun shone through the windows; glorious weather for a Sunday in March. She looked forward to a lazy day far from Draco and Pansy. She'd hide if the need arose, but she would have her day.
The post owls flew into the Great Hall in a flurry of wings and feathers, dropping letters and parcels. Caesar, Draco's gorgeous eagle owl, glided to the other end of the table and deposited a large box in his owner's lap. Mrs. Malfoy's weekly adoration had arrived in the form of candy and cake. Verity hadn't received an owl in four years at Hogwarts.
To her utter surprise, then, a white envelope fell onto her bacon. A tiny owl buzzed around her head, hooting in a self-satisfied sort of way. She smiled, and the owl decided he had done his job and zoomed away. The letter wasn't addressed, except with Verity's name scrawled across the front in letters that listed to one side. She tore it open.
Hello then, Verity, it said, I wonder if you'd like to do lunch sometime. Today? Meet me by that statue of the centaur near the Quidditch pitch. I would suggest somewhere closer, but I suspect Malfoy wouldn't like you associating with a dirt-poor blood traitor like me—Verity's heart decided to stop beating for a while—and I know my brothers won't love me spending time with a Slytherin who works for Malfoy. But I don't care, do you? See you at lunch (hopefully). Fred Weasley
Verity's heart began working again. Now she thought about it, enjoying a sunny Saturday was much easier with someone, especially someone who could make her laugh. She noticed a PS at the bottom. If that bloody bird of Ron's has already left, look over to the Gryffindor table and give us a nod. She craned her neck, scanning the far table for red hair. She had several false alarms—how many Weasleys were there?—before she found a twin. He gave her a questioning look. She replied with a small nod, and he grinned.
When Verity got to the centaur statue, no one had arrived, so she leaned against its pedestal and waited. The spring sun shone, and the few clouds were wispy and white. A cool breeze ruffled the trees nearby. She wouldn't mind a short nap.
"Hey, Verity." She shook her head to get rid of the cobwebs. Fred and his twin brother leaned against the other side of the statue. "Glad you could make it. I'd like you to meet my brother George," he said, and the other twin smiled and shook her hand. "George, the lady I met at the Yule Ball when you borrowed my partner."
George shrugged. "Guilty as charged. Though it seems to have worked out, eh?"
Fred didn't reply. "We brought lunch," he told Verity, tugging a rolled-up napkin out of his pocket. He undid it and revealed a pair of chicken sandwiches. His other pocket held another napkin and more sandwiches, and he produced a flask of pumpkin juice from inside his robes. George's pockets also contained squashed sandwiches wrapped in napkins.
Verity sat on the grass, then leapt up again with a squeal. "Oh, it's wet!"
Fred sat with a thump and went the other direction just as quickly. "Yes it is." He grimaced.
"Good thing we know another place," George said. He and Fred led the way toward the Quidditch pitch, Verity trailing after. Their feet sank into the wet grass as they walked, and their shoes were soon soaked through.
"This is technically off limits unless we have a game," George said as they climbed the stairs into the stands.
"Or a practice," Fred added, turning down a row of seats, "but since when have we ever bothered with off limits?" Verity smiled. She wasn't sure what to make of them. They seemed a little crazy, but they were nice enough. And they talked to her, not giving orders or insulting, just talking, which, she thought, was worth a little crazy.
"Why did you ask me to dance?" she asked after a while. The Yule Ball had been on her mind.
"Because you're pretty," George smirked.
"Sure," said Fred without a trace of embarrassment. "And you kept watching me and drawing, so I wanted to see if you were drawing me. Besides, you looked lonely. So I decided I might as well say hello."
"I'm glad you did," she said. "Pass the sandwiches, please."
Verity thoroughly enjoyed herself. The twins liked to talk and she prefered not to, so they were a good match. She leaned back in the stands, eating all the roast beef sandwiches and listening to stories of everything from Fred and George's many escapades to things they'd heard about the Ministry of Magic to accounts of Quidditch games. By the time the last sandwich disappeared, Verity suspected she'd made her first two friends.
"Ought to get back, eh?" George said as the bell rang across the grounds.
They cleaned up. "Same time tomorrow?" Fred asked.
"I don't know." Verity folded a napkin and put it in her pocket. "Draco will notice if I'm gone too often."
"Yeah, George and I are usually in the thick of things; it'd be odd if we were gone twice in a row," he conceded
"It'll look suspicious if you owl me again."
"It'll look suspicious if we're seen talking to each other."
They stood for a moment. George broke the silence. "We'll think of something. Come on, Fred, we've got places to be."
"Blimey, I clean forgot. I'm sorry, Verity, we have business transactions to make. We promised our client we'd meet him after lunch—owing to the fact our lunch break was full." He grinned.
"I understand," she said. "Bye Fred, George. Thank you for lunch." They climbed out of the stands and headed off across the grounds.
Verity hardly saw the twins the rest of the day. On the occasion they passed in the halls, they acted as though she wasn't there. Taking her cues from them, she pretended as well she'd never given them the time of day. Still, she'd never had such a hard time keeping a smile off her face, and that afternoon, when Professor Snape gave her top marks for her antidote in front of the whole class, she couldn't resist a little cheer. She didn't know so much goodness could fit in one day.
The next morning, she dressed with unusual rapidity, threw her books into her bag, and rushed to the stairs. There she paused, fighting with instinct. Instinct won. She sat on the bottom step, opened her bag again, and reorganized her books. Satisfied, she continued out to the Great Hall for breakfast.
She sneaked a glance at the Gryffindor table as she passed through the tall doors. It gave her a pleasant chill to see the twins. She sat, beaming at the world, and pulled a plate of toast toward herself.
"What's with you?" Pansy asked, grabbing a flask of pumpkin juice.
"Nothing." Verity tried to smother a grin and only succeeded in dropping the butter knife. She ducked to get it.
Under the table, a folded piece of parchment scooted across the floor. She curiously watched it make its way toward her, hit the edge of her shoe, and slide up her leg. It continued under her skirt a few inches before it reappeared, as if it realized it was going the wrong way, and tapped the hem of her stocking insistently. Bewildered but amused, she took the parchment and opened it.
Hello then, miss. First things first, if you're reading this, this is not easy. I have to move it all the way across the floor without anybody stepping on it, then I have to drop something and get under the table, because I don't want to stick it down Crabbe's sock. But if you are reading this, I guess it worked. So, if you can get away from Malfoy, say we meet for lunch next Wednesday? Same place.
She made a mental note: tell Fred to aim for her lap next time.