Disclaimer: Does anybody else do these? I feel forever alone on these. Anyways, the characters aren't mine. But the plot is.
Author's Rant Space: I'm taking a break from my main writing squeeze. If there's one person whose neck I would gladly wring it would be his. Take a crack and offer some critique! Cheers.
The wind coming off the lake was crisp and ruffled the feathers of the horses. The watery-eyed boy with the uneasy air sniffed the cool wind; pine...and poop. He sneezed violently, "Stupid animals. Disgusting. Smelly." An infectious laugh boomed behind him and a tousle-headed youth wrapped an arm around him. "Oh, I wouldn't talk too badly of them. We all have some animal in us."
"Besides, they're quite beautiful, Wormy. Which is more than we can say of you," the second boy smiled impishly and flopped down onto the grass. He plucked a few stems and skillfully pulled a tune from the green blades. "We're thinking of an adventure, Wormy," The first boy pulled out a crumpled and much folded piece of parchment, he pushed his glasses higher. "What do you think of a night-time jaunt on those noble steeds, Mr. Stinkfoot?" "Sounds interesting but I think Mr. Moon would love to join us, Mr. Stubby."
They grinned at one another and the bespeckled youth smiled enticingly at Peter. "D'you wanna have a go at them, Wormtail?" Knowing that he was most likely going to be injured, Peter nodded, "Course! I-I'll see you all later. I have to go to class."
Frowning, Prongs watched him leave, cloak flapping in the March breeze. " Seemed a bit skittish at the idea, Pads." Padfoot grunted, dismissing him with a disgusted look, "I don't know why we even allow him near us. One day he's gonna go squealing to the prof's and I'm gonna have to beat the scummy snot from him." Prongs chuckled, " He's never going to rat us out. Don't be an idiot."
They lounged in the cool air. Abruptly, Padfoot sat up, his long hair swinging into his face. "Hey... Mr. Prongs?"
"What?" he was busy tracing his finger along the old parchment and didn't look at his friend. "Let's have some pre-midnight fun, shall we?" Prongs lifted his eyes and saw his friend grinning like a wolf. He turned his head and caught sight of a thin and slightly bent form striding to the greenhouses. It was swathed in a cloak too large and obviously threadbare. Laughing, Prongs tucked the map away.