Who: Fred Weasley and Pansy Parkinson (OH SHIT) What: I'm assuming fighting Where: Beach When: Thursday evening Status/Rating: Complete/ Probably high
Fred had practically skipped to the beach. Well, no, because that would be a bit poof-y, but there was a definite skip in his step. Things felt...somewhat normal. He had spent the day with George plotting out what prank they were going to pull, and discussing what ingredients they needed, and it felt so good to just talk to his twin again without feeling angry. So he was just going to ignore the fact that George had married his girlfriend and then cheated on her, and that both of them were on the island, because things were better when he ignored that apparently.
Once he got to the beach, he pulled some baggies out of his pocket. He didn't quite know what they were going to do the sand, so he figured he should get as much as he could of varying varieties. He opened the first one and started scooping some dry sand into it, already planning to get wet sand, and sand that had grass and such in it. Yes, he was going to be meticulous about this. About sand.
For once, in the week since he'd opened his baggage, he wasn't overwhelmed by anger. He felt good. And what was more natural to do when someone felt good than whistle? That was precisely what Fred did as he continued shoveling sand into his baggies, not even noticing that someone was walking on the beach.