line without a hook

CHAPTER 1. WERE YOU IN THE FOREST FOR SURE?

***

– What the hell am I doing here? – a tall red-haired boy resented. – For example... I wish I was in an appropriate Gryffindor company. But I spend my priceless time with a dwarf of the serpent family. It's dawn.

– Weasley, weren't you taught manners? Just tell me, – a low, slightly gruff girly voice was heard from behind. – Nice to meet you, I'm Erin Holm. A four-year Slytherin student. I'm a head and a half shorter than you, watch better, Frederick Weasley. And we're here, in the Forbidden Forest just because of you. And it's kind of a surprise that you've decided to talk to me right now, not earlier. We've spent a whole night here... I suppose about six hours. And I've been friends with your sister for three years.

The guy raised an eyebrow wondering, but immediately found the answer. There was no limit in his intelligence. Fred always said that the brain develops by his inventions.

– So, Erin Holm. Don't you think that I can be George? We've always been two gorgeous and handsome twins, – he smiled slyly and tried to see at least some reaction, whether positive or negative, but her face still did not express any emotions. – And I also let myself ask you. Do you always behave like you're colder than an iceberg... Kinda insensitive and emotionless?

– Frederick Gideon Weasley, I started watching as soon as I started walking. So, shut up and stop messing me around, – she answered him with a light expression of aggression. – You and your brother George Fabian Weasley are one year older than me. I've learned all your habits by heart. And I'm still your sister's friend, try not to forget the next time.

Fred just shrugged his shoulders. For the first time, a girl puts him in his place. A girl who is a year younger than him. How outrageous and humiliating was probably spinning in his head, but he tried not to give the slightest sign of his thoughts. Only if Erin wasn't a legiliment...

– Gonna stay, little lion? – the girl quipped. – What's happening with Fred Weasley? Is the melancholy attacking that night gonna end? Or are you about to collapse on the ground from fatigue? Come on, let's get some more sleep.

– I didn't know that Slytherins know how to take care, – the guy purred affectionately and immediately almost got a slap in the face, but she managed to clench her hand into a fist, and long sharp nails dug into her palm along the already familiar traces in the form on the skin. She had to restrain herself too often "because of idiots," as she was used to thinking.

– No, it's just a desire to come to the room as soon as possible and go to a warm bed, and also forget about today's night, maybe not a very pleasant night and company. Of course, I like hanging out in different companies, getting to know good people, but not at night in the Forbidden Forest with you. Sometimes it's hard to know whether someone is a human or a kind of reptile.

The girl winked and ran forward as if she was inspired. Fred looked carelessly after her flowing robes and long red hair. Something still managed to hook him in it, but he himself was not in a condition to figure it out, there was not even a single thought about wreckers and their development in his head. Somewhere in his mind, Weasley denied everything. The night was an ordinary work-out, which anyone could run into. If McGonagall had arrived a minute later, any Gryffindor student would have been in Erin's place. Almost completely exhausted, Fred wandered towards the living room. He didn't just wander, he trudged as if he was walking along the route "Platform Nine and Three Quarters" — "Hogwarts" all that night. To his surprise, his workmate had already disappeared behind the trees, the sound of footsteps ceased to be heard. Whether Fred wanted to appear gallant and not push, or a keen desire to be alone was eating away at him from the inside — he himself did not know. Just think: the year had barely begun, and he had already flown in to work, there had never been such a thing as to stay on the eighth day of training, especially now it was unpleasant — the Triwizard Tournament did not require slowdowns, especially if Fred Weasley himself was preparing some kind of plan to participate in it.

***

– And how was your night with Weasley? — Erin's friend caught her at the entrance to the living room. — It won't work, half of the school was buzzing yesterday. The most unusual couple went out on the night promenade. It's a pity that I don't write newspapers, such an article would have come out, – Mark, practically her only friend, paused for a moment, and then continued, maintaining sarcasm in his intonation. — I still want to take an interview firsthand.

— Collecting snake gossip? Or can you already be called a full-fledged rat, Lindbergh? She laughed noiselessly and gave him a little nudge in the side. — I really want to sleep, let's discuss it when I wake up. If, of course, I wake up. I don't feel like it anymore, I've seen everything in this life, obviously.

— Were you sure you were working out in the forest? Or have you drifted into the Gryffindor Tower, for example... into the boys' bedroom... – Mark drawled in a dreamy voice. For a split second, they both thought there was a note of sarcasm in his sweet intonations.

— Shut up, before your pretty face becomes a place for scratches. How will you frame the Ravenclaw then? Gonna wag your ass? Or actively work with your tongue? – Erin snapped in her manner. She made it clear that she didn't want to deal with anyone right now, not even an old bosom friend, no matter how pretty and good he was.

Without the slightest remorse, Erin rushed towards the bedrooms, and Mark remained standing in a stupor, as if now an old friend had not just put her in place with a sharp word out of fatigue, but rudely rejected her, as if he was trying to approach her cheaply. Mark knew all of Erin's habits and movements inside and out. Even after the incident, he couldn't be offended. Both of them could not stand overly annoying Gryffindors, so the guy perfectly understood how his girl-friend had been given the last night. Especially with one of the Weasleys. Blood traitors, famous pranksters caused nothing but irritation and hatred. Reluctantly, both admitted that some of the twins' mischief was really funny, but only when they touched people to whom they did not have positive emotions.

Mark stood for a while on the way out of the living room, smiled faintly, as if Erin could see his emotions, and walked away. Where he was going so early on a sunny, but cool, Saturday morning, the guy could only guess.

He stood on the shore of the Black Lake, taking one puff after another. Mark usually goes with Erin, but this day was different. His slightly strange girl-friend was not with him right now, precisely because she preferred sleep to communicating with someone. Looking just like that into nowhere in complete silence became a heart-rending activity in the morning early. He closed his eyes and imagined her standing next to him. The same emotionless and always expressing complete indifference to almost everything. With the most careless tail in the whole school, as Mark always liked to make fun of her. However, he was the one who saw the other side of Erin, just as she saw in him what no other girl in the entire wizarding and Muggle world noticed. It seemed that only they heard the most sincere laughter of each other and the most banal jokes, for which it is simply impossible to punish.

Mark heaved out the last puff, filling his lungs and burning unpleasantly from the inside, but he had a strong desire to stay a little longer to enjoy solitude and freedom while almost all the students at school were asleep.