“I hate boys like you,” Newt lied.
In reality, he didn’t hate them so much anymore—mostly because he’d realised that hating them was exhausting, just like stepping in as Hufflepuff’s seeker at the last minute. Plus, it was hard to stay mad when those eyes were looking at him like he was the golden snitch.
So, Newt watched him: Gryffindor jersey flapping in the wind as the sun broke through the clouds above. This boy was hanging upside down, hovering annoyingly like he thought he was a bat or something, completely oblivious to how ridiculous he looked.
Newt was wedged awkwardly in the branches of a tree, his broomstick lodged firmly in the foliage around him. Leaves rustled around him, and he struggled to manoeuvre his body between the branches, attempting to maintain some semblance of dignity.
“Oh, really?” Thomas replied, hovering just out of reach, his broom swaying slightly as he wore a mischievous grin. The sunlight caught the glint in his eyes, making them sparkle with playful challenge. “Love, like, hate—they’re all just different versions of the same thing, you know?”
“Just give it back,” Newt grumbled, leaning forward with a frown, but Thomas effortlessly swiped the notebook from his grasp, holding it teasingly above him.
“Arse,” Newt muttered, frustration bubbling beneath the surface as he twisted to reach for it, only to be met with more leaves in his face.
“Prat,” Thomas shot back, laughing as he circled around Newt like a teasing hawk, clearly enjoying the sight of the Hufflepuff’s predicament.
“Do you have to look so smug while I’m literally stuck up here?” Newt shot back, his voice edged with annoyance.
“Yep.” Thomas replied, his laughter echoing through the air, making Newt's cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and annoyance.
With a dramatic sigh, Newt twisted again, trying to free his broom. “This is so unfair. I wasn’t even trying to be in this position!”
“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you decided to play Seeker while showing off,” Thomas said, hovering just out of reach, the wind tousling his hair. His eyes sparkled with mischief, clearly enjoying the sight of Newt awkwardly tangled in the branches.
“Very funny,” Newt replied dryly, trying to shoot him a glare. But it was hard to stay mad when Thomas was hovering so close, that annoyingly charming grin plastered on his face.
Newt's brow furrowed as he caught sight of his notebook in Thomas's hands, filled with chaotic doodles and scribbled notes. One in particular caught Thomas’ eye: *Gryffindors to Avoid*—with only one name scrawled beneath it: *Thomas*.
“You know, stealing is a serious offence,” Newt said, crossing his arms, body still stuck in the tree, attempting to project a sense of authority he barely felt.
“Only if you catch me,” Thomas taunted, swinging his legs and balancing on his broom with effortless ease. “Besides, it’s all part of my master plan to distract you from your prefect duties. Can’t have you getting too serious now, can we?”
Newt had spent so long trying to fit into the mould of his house, but Thomas was the kind of boy who broke all the rules. It was exhausting trying to keep up. “Master plan, huh?” Newt raised an eyebrow, still wriggling to climb out of the branches. “And what’s the ultimate goal? To get me to hex you?”
“Maybe,” Thomas said, his grin widening. “You’re just so… Hufflepuff.”
“Is that supposed to be an insult?” Newt quipped, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips as he finally managed to free one of his legs.
“Not at all! I mean, who else would be brave enough to step in as Seeker at the last minute?” Thomas leaned closer, voice low and teasing, “Or who else would look so cool while doing it?”
The unexpected compliment caught Newt off guard, and he felt heat rise to his cheeks. He turned away, pretending to adjust his broomstick. “Okay, just give me the book before I report you.”
With a theatrical sigh, Thomas tossed the notebook into the air, letting it flutter down like a fallen leaf. “Catch!”
Newt lunged, extending his hand, but Thomas was already spinning away, laughter ringing through the air as he dodged Newt’s outstretched fingers. “You know,” Newt grumbled, “you really are infuriating.”
“Infuriating? Or charming?” Thomas teased, a playful glint in his eyes.
“Definitely infuriating,” Newt replied, the corners of his mouth betraying him as he struggled to maintain his annoyance. He huffed, still stuck in this damned tree. Stupid broom wasn’t cooperating at all.
“Aw, don’t be like that! I’m just here to help you lighten up,” Thomas said, finally hovering closer, his playful demeanour making it hard for Newt to stay annoyed.
“By making me look ridiculous?” Newt shot back, but the spark of laughter in his own voice softened the retort.
“Exactly! It’s good for your character, Newt. Besides, it’s not every day you get to see a prefect stuck in a tree!”
With a mock sigh, Newt finally gave in, shaking his head as he accepted the absurdity of the situation. Just then, he heard it—the unmistakable sound of a hollering whoop—Minho. Newt groaned, a sinking feeling in his stomach, while Thomas simply kept flicking through the notebook, utterly unfazed.
“Is that Minho?” Thomas asked, glancing up, his expression shifting from mischievous to concerned. “You know he’s going to take advantage of this, right?”
“Of course he is,” Newt muttered, eyes darting towards the sound. “He probably thinks it’s hilarious.”
“Then we should do something before he gets here,” Thomas suggested, his playful demeanour slipping slightly as he finally stopped flipping through the pages and focused on Newt. “We can’t let him see you like this.”
“Oh, great idea! Let’s just apparate me down,” Newt said sarcastically, tugging at the branches around him.
“We can’t apparate in school grounds.” Thomas deadpanned.
“I know.”
Thomas chuckled, but there was an undercurrent of seriousness in his tone. “No, really. I’ll help you get out. Just hold still.” He leaned closer, trying to manoeuvre around the branches without making the situation worse.
But before Newt could respond, the Ravenclaw appeared, soaring through the air on his broomstick, a wicked grin plastered across his face. “LMAO—” He swung down beside them, clearly enjoying the moment a little too much.
“Minho, you wouldn’t dare!” Newt warned, narrowing his eyes at the teasing figure, but his tone was undermined by the slight smile tugging at his lips.
“Oh, I absolutely would!” Minho declared, tilting his head back and laughing loudly, the sound echoing across the pitch. “I’m tellin’ Alby—”
“MINHO!,” Newt yelled, rolling his eyes again. “So maybe you should stop hovering around and help me down instead of gloating.”
“I don’t know, man,” Minho said, feigning contemplation, “what’s it worth to you?”
Newt groaned. “
“Enough! You’re both making it worse!” Thomas chimed in, finally taking action. “Newt, if you can push yourself up a bit, I might be able to get my arm around you and pull you free.”
“Alright, but if I fall, I’m dragging you down with me,” Newt warned, determination lighting up his eyes as he prepared to push himself up.
Thomas laughed, his tone light but with a hint of sincerity. “Just trust me, okay?”
With a deep breath, Newt gathered his strength, trying to find a solid footing among the branches. Minho, still hovering nearby, couldn’t resist chiming in. “This would make an amazing headline, you know. ‘Tree - 1, Hufflepuff Head Boy 0.’”
“Shut up, Min!” Newt barked, though the laughter in his voice betrayed him. “Let’s get this over with!”
As Thomas reached out, he managed to grip Newt’s arm, his fingers brushing against Newt’s skin, sending a bolt of warmth through him. “Gryffindor - 1, Hufflepuff Head Boy 0,” he smirked, eyes sparkling with mischief.
“UGH!” Newt shouted, pushing himself up and yanking on Thomas’s arm.
In a twist of fate, just as they both felt the branches loosen their grip, Thomas suddenly repositioned himself. “AHH!” With a triumphant yell, they broke free from the tree, tumbling forward together. The world around them blurred into a rush of rainbows as they plummeted towards the grass below, laughter echoing in the air.
“See? This is exactly what I meant by ‘good for your character!’” Thomas exclaimed, breathless laughter filling Newt’s ears as they landed in a tangled heap on the ground, their bodies colliding with a soft thud.
Newt found himself sprawled on top of Thomas, Hufflepuff jersey flapping in the wind, breathless and slightly dazed, his heart racing as he looked into Thomas’s eyes, just inches away.
“Not quite what I had in mind, but I’ll take it,” Newt admitted, a shy smile creeping onto his lips as he felt the warmth of Thomas’s body beneath him, the moment hanging in the air like a spell.
Thomas grinned up at him, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I mean, if you wanted to land on me, you could have just asked.”
“Right, because I planned this whole thing out,” Newt shot back, trying to regain his composure as he pushed himself up slightly, the soft grass beneath them contrasting with the warmth of their closeness.
“Next time, I’ll just make sure I’m beneath you,” Thomas replied, his voice low and playful, and Newt couldn’t help but feel a flutter of warmth at the suggestion, even as Minho’s laughter echoed from above.
“Great.” Newt muttered, rolling his eyes as he finally pushed himself up, brushing grass off his robes.
He still had a steadfast disdain for Gryffindors—especially this one.
Just as he regained his balance, Thomas pulled at the back of Newt’s robe with a mischievous tug, sending him tumbling backward into a pile of leaves.
“AH–” Newt yelped, feelings of fear bubbling up from somewhere deep inside as he landed in a rustling heap. The crisp autumn air filled his lungs, and for a moment, all the annoyance melted away. He tried to regain his composure as he sprawled out in the leaves, until he felt someone hovering above him, a smug grin plastered on his face.
“Your book,” Thomas declared, his voice low and teasing as he leaned in closer, their noses almost touching. Newt glared at him, a mixture of playful annoyance and unexpected excitement bubbling in his chest.
Before Newt could respond, Thomas casually placed the notebook on top of Newt’s forehead, effectively covering his eyes. “Now you can’t see anything.”
“Seriously?” Newt huffed, laughter bubbling up as he squirmed beneath the unexpected weight, his cheeks warming at their closeness. “Is this your master plan?”
Thomas’s grin widened, his breath brushing against Newt’s face. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just a way to keep you distracted.”
“From what?” Newt shot back, though he couldn’t suppress a smile, the irritation slipping away in the face of their playful banter.
“Minho taking a picture of you,” Thomas replied, leaning in just a fraction closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
In an instant, Newt straightened, the book slipping from his forehead and landing in his lap as he collided with Thomas, their foreheads bumping together with an electrifying jolt—their lips almost brushing.
“WHAT?” Newt blurted, his eyes wide with surprise, an undeniable thrill shooting through him.
Thomas gasped, realising just how close they were, the heat between them palpable. Newt’s gaze darted up, only to see Minho hovering nearby with a camera, barely containing his laughter.
“Perfect!” Minho called out, capturing the moment before Newt could react.
In a flash, Newt grabbed his notebook and flung it toward Minho with a determined throw, the urgency of the situation making his heart race.
“Get lost!”