Hermione, Harry, and Ron were walking along in what had at first been relative peacefulness through the fallen snow. The last class of the day had concluded more than half an hour earlier, but they had decided it best to take a walk outside. Days had passed since Hermione let them know she was indeed attending the ball with someone, but the tension was still finding ways to itch behind her and Ron.
She still refused to tell either of them, or any other soul for that matter, who it was she was going with. Harry was sure that Ron would have asked a dozen times more had it not been for the swift and accidental intervention of the Weasley Twins.
Not three minutes outside in peace, and they had been attacked by a pile of charmed snowballs. They were not the first of innocent bystanders to be targeted, as Oliver Wood was sitting grumpily in the snow, his arms and legs tied together with holly.
After one admittedly embarrassing snowball fight on Ron's part, they had continued on.
"He's run about in the snow and the soot," George began, an arm over Ron's slumped figure.
"And is one fine right old chapper to know," Fred continued for his twin.
"But although he's nice hair and a temper to boot."
"We must admit that his aim is quite slow."
"Because…." They both chorused, preparing to launch into their current favorite melody, "He hit the Whomping Willow, he hit the Whomping Willow. Feel bad for this guy, 'cause now he's got a black eye 'cause he hit the Whomping Willow!"
The tune ended on a painfully high note and both twins laughed cheerfully. The trio had kept walking all right, but not without the two now flanking them, a freed Oliver striding easily beside them. Ron's eye had indeed turned a brilliantly vivid rainbow of dark colors after being hit by the clearly annoyed tree. Harry reassured his friend by telling him they'd go to Madame Pomfrey, but the continuous singing and merriment from Fred and George was doing nothing to improve their younger brother's temper.
"Oh come on, ickle Ronniekins," said George, shoving him playfully.
Fred called over from the other side of a laughing Hermione, "Give us a grin, freckle chin!"
Harry resisted the temptation to laugh, desperately telling himself that as a friend he shouldn't find amusement in Ron's pain. Hermione did nothing to hide her own, at last redeemed for an afternoon of pestering. Next to her, Oliver was only glad to be released of the holly bindings, or as the twins had called them 'shackles of Christmas spirit'.
"Oh bugger off you two," Ron mumbled, rolling his eyes but concealing a slight smile.
It was hard not to be amused sometimes, even if it was you being bugged.
Fred and George appeared not to have heard, instead launching into another rousing chorus of 'He hit the Whomping Willow' - this time accompanied by a Peeves-like jig. They passed Hagrid's hut after the second line, and were rounding back towards the entrance of the castle when they heard a commotion.
"Get back here, you little imp!"
A glance over in its direction revealed two blue-clad figures. One skipped along with a wide grin as the other chased, shouting an impressive variety of threats. A third figure exited the Beauxbatons carriage behind them and made its way down the hill in short, careful steps. Upon recognizing the first figure as Aimee, the twins each took the arm of a confused fourth-year and crouched behind the huge rocks just a ways away.
"What on earth are you doing?" Hermione said.
Fred hushed her while his twin turned to explain.
"Just want to see how this lot turns out. Our little Weasley-in-training is out all on her own, see?" his touching sentiment complete with a fake tear at the end.
Hermione scowled at them but crouched down, Ron and Harry both leaning over her shoulders for a better look. Oliver rolled his eyes, but kneeled behind a rock and waited.