AMOR FATI . . . fred weasley

IV. AVOCADO KEDAVRA

2:31PM 2/03/1995

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

IF THERE'S ONE THING Joey really, really hates, it's March.

With its perpetual rain and endless storms that bite and slice through Scotland's tranquil countryside, there simply aren't enough hours in the sunshine for her. She hates how early spring is so tantalisingly close yet so far away, like she could kiss it and it'd pull away, leaving her unfulfilled and gloomy.

Still, Joey's determined to seize happiness even in the most unforgiving of months, and if that's achieved by plastering on her best fake smile, so be it!

Hence why she's currently skipping down the hill towards the Forbidden Forest to feed the Thestrals in a free period, dragging with her the ever-unwilling Lola.

'Are you gonna stop dilly-dallying or what?' she calls out behind her to her Metamorphmagus friend, her voice whipped away by a bitter wind.

From her vantage point higher up the hill, Lola flips up her middle finger. 'Honestly, Attlee, forgive me if I am not urinating with excitement at the prospect of being outside in sub-zero temperatures!'

'Grump.'

'We are going to see the Thestrals, not the Minister for Magic.'

Joey frowns and turns back round again, allowing the reluctant Gryffindor to catch up with her. 'I thought you said that the Minister for Magic is the figurehead of a patriarchy that manipulates magic to oppress and suppress witches?'

Lola nods fervently. 'I am seriously considering renouncing all men.'

'Oh yeah? What about Lee?'

Lola's emerald hair flushes red, mirroring her cheeks as they blush uncharacteristically. 'Well, I suppose Jordan can be the exception.'

Joey can't help grinning, because if she's honest, she finds Lee and Lola's relationship adorable. Please stay together forever and ever and ever and ever, she prays, a little terrified of saying it out loud just in case Lola jinxes her to death.

Because, well, if she said she didn't think Lola Linden Lemont had murderous tendencies, she'd be lying!

They've done this a thousand times before, standing in a comfortable silence that contains multitudes, handing chunks of meat and love to the creatures that are so criminally misunderstood. Joey clutches the dead carcasses, the blood crawling under her fingernails, her hands, so often held lovingly by somebody else's, dirtied with death. It reminds her of Matthew to see the blood darken around her fingertips and it hurts; it bleeds.

'Shouldn't you two be in class?'

Severus Snape's voice is as soft as it is venomous, perfectly rehearsed at making Joey's skin crawl. She's never really been able to talk confidently to people she doesn't love nor trust (and she cannot stress this enough, she loves and trusts Snape as little as is humanly possible), but Lola stares him down with the piercing glare of a predator fixating upon its prey.

'What is that to you, Professor?' she demands, her defiance ringing through the Forbidden Forest. Any prey of Lola's does not stand a chance.

'Um, we have a free lesson,' mumbles Joey.

If only she had the unfailing confidence of Lola, she'd be able to give Severus Snape what he deserved.