The Queen of Vipers || Fred Weasley

I.XII

The next few months flew by.

Winds turned from cutting blades of ice to comfortable brushes of warm breaths in what felt like an instant. No signs of Sirius, no weird coincidences, and no Rowle twins. Though the latter was perhaps out of their own volition and will to live, because Electra had grown more volatile as the year progressed.

Lupin's warning to not burn herself out didn't really stick; she was nearing her breaking point and the O.W.L.s were around the corner.

Her temper, which was already short at the best of times, blew up more often than ever before. By April most of the castle knew to duck their heads or hurry the other way when they saw Electra in the halls. Though that didn't stop her vengeance for the stupid, and it got worse the closer the O.W.L.s got.

On Monday she'd jinxed a third-year Slytherin's knees to turn completely around so he could only walk backwards for bumping into her in the halls. Tuesday, she quite literally zipped the lips of a few older Gryffindors for talking too loudly during study hours. Thursday she hexed a few shoelaces to tie themselves together to trip students who were walking too slow in front of her.

Snape wasn't helping. He had grown more spiteful towards her since their little spat in Dumbledore's office. She had countless bruises on her thighs from Cedric's warning punches she'd ignored over the weeks.

She'd even skipped her career meeting with Snape at the end of March. It seemed fruitless to just give Snape free rein to abuse her. Cedric didn't approve, but she didn't care, though it did land Electra with three days worth of detention, which was three evenings of not working on her heavy load of coursework. There was a hex with Snape's name on it at the end of the year.

Though if one good thing came out of it, Fred and George had sneakily come to her to ask when and where she felt they should set off their birthday prank. She wasn't too sure her Clairvoyant talents extended past gut feelings and visions, but maybe there was something to it as they'd both come out of it scotch free somehow. Nonetheless, she was very pleased to be spared from spontaneously sprouting fur all over her body. How they'd pulled that off was a mystery to Electra, but she was glad she knew not to be in the library that day.

Late April Cedric dragged Electra to the final Quidditch match of the season; Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. Even Electra had to admit that it was quite a match to behold; Slytherin pulled dirty trick after dirty trick and Gryffindor was not having their antics. It was a bloodbath, but that just made it more exciting to watch in Electra's opinion. It was pretty satisfying when Fred threw his club at the back of Marcus Flint's head making him slam his nose into his own broom. Even Potter and George got in a few good wallops.

At a particularly brutal point in the game, Cedric had leant her his omnioculars for a beat and for a greedy moment she recalled watching the way the muscles in Fred's arm flexed in slow motion when he batted a bludger away—

She quickly handed Cedric his ominoculars back.

The match didn't last nearly as long as Electra would have liked and it was time to return to the castle for more studying.

After clenching the title of Quidditch Champions, Fred and George (who couldn't be caught dead studying before) could be seen in the library with their redheads bent over scrolls of notes or textbooks. Most of the castle was cramming for their finals in the library or their common rooms the week before.

Before they knew it, it was the night before their first O.W.L.s. Electra and Cedric had to stop their cramming early for Prefect patrol. It was for the best anyways; the two of them would have worked themselves into the AM had they no choice but to stop.

Cedric muttered significant dates under his breath for the History of Magic exam he had the next morning as they packed their bags back up. Electra's eyes wandered to where Fred and George sat between two bookshelves. George's legs bounced anxiously, his hand gripping a handful of hair Electra was sure he'd eventually rip out. Fred sat low in his chair, his head hanging off the back and a textbook floating over his head. She noticed him chewing his lips as he concentrated hard on whatever was on the page above him. Their other friends seemed to have already retired for the night.