Oak Leaves: A Series of Vignettes

Oak Leaves

Prologue

There he sat, on the grass under the towering oak tree. The tree had been his favorite place to go since he had discovered it in his third year. Four years later, he was still frequenting the same spot. He knew he was not the first person the claim the safe haven as his own, nor would he be the last. The proof was in the dozens of names carved into the trunk behind him, including an conspicuous "Gred & Forge". He had even come across a heart with "Steven" and what looked suspiciously like "Minerva" inside of it. Even more names were scratched into the large beech tree to the left of his oak. The most interesting marking was the prominent "S.B. & L.E.", carved a little way up from the base of the tree. Unlike the other carvings, it had always looked freshly carved. What charm had been used to make it always seem fresh was unknown. George watched as a leaf the color of a ruby floated down on to the surface of the shining lake that stretched before him. The autumn day was crisp and he shivered as an unexpected breeze whipped at his hair and teased the bottom of his worn robes and hand-me-down cloak. The only noise he heard was a little group of second years playing some muggle game a few hundred meters away.

Being alone, he decided, was a nice thing to be at times. It lets a person think and daydream, something that he didn't do nearly enough of at times. His best friend and sidekick, otherwise known as his brother, was in the Gryffindor common room playing an undoubtedly rousing game of Exploding Snap. The person unlucky enough to be playing against him was a fifth year, Neville Longbottom. The winner, most likely not Neville, would get to "play" with Neville's toad, Trevor. Knowing Neville, Trevor was bound to be zooming around the common room shortly after the match with a Dr. Filibuster's No Heat, Wet Start Firecracker in his great, green mouth.

George looked up just in time to watch another leaf drift down and land on the lake, only to float away. He leaned back against the tree's rough trunk as a breeze shook even more leaves from the lofty tree. A particularly bright orange one landed on his knee. He picked it up, and it crumbled in his hand. Looking out over the lake, he could just see a tentacle of the Giant Squid, whom he and his brother had secretly named Elmer, waving at him. Smiling, he closed his eyes and felt another leaf drop nonchalantly onto the top of his head. The leaves and the weather, combined with the distant laughter from the happy second years, sent George spiraling into a simpering, nostalgic fool. Or, at least that's what Fred would have called him if he happened to come along. George was most definitely alone, though, so he continued uninterrupted as he reflected on old, happy memories.