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"Have you seen a goose anywhere?" Ron asked, tripping through the portrait door
Hector's head snapped up. "Have I seen a what?" He blinked and took in Ron's untucked shirt, the kneepads and shoulder-pads crookedly fixed to his gangly limbs. "Weren't you playing Quidditch with the others?" He tried not to appear annoyed, but Ron's younger brother had OWLs and was using every excuse possible to not study for them.
Ron waved his arms. "Have you seen that bloody goose? It's this big," he said, gesturing with the full length of his arms. "And it's been following me."
Hector closed the book he was reading, a collection of historical essays about the introduction of English witchcraft to America, and steepled his fingers under his chin. "No, I haven't seen such a goose, but I am starting to believe you were hit in the head with a bludger."
"I haven't!"
"Hn-honk!"
Hector and Ron turned to the portrait door. An orange beak the size of a textbook peaked through the door. Then it was a large head attached to a long neck with a bright orange collar that had the words Wheezes' Goose Extravaganza etched on a silver medallion.
"You had to lead it here," Hector muttered. He pulled his wand out.
"Honk!" The goose bobbed its head. Feathers ruffled, it waddled forward with its bright red eyes fixed on Ron and Hector.
He asked Ron, "Does the goose do anything in particular?" His mind raced from salamanders shooting multi-colored sparks, the sweets that turned people into birds, and all of the other inventions Fred and George had created. They had perfected a merchandise line that was equally unassuming and terrifying.
"Honk. Hooooonk!"
"I don't want to find out." Ron stepped in front of Hector, blocking him from the goose. "Please tell me that brilliant mind of yours is thinking of a solution…"
"HONK!" The goose grew several sizes.
Ron jumped backward, knocking into Hector. Startled, Hector gripped Ron's bicep with one hand, fully intending to use his friend as a human shield. "Here's a for a brilliant plan –run!" A spell from Hector's wand fizzled in the air as it bounced off the goose.
Ron grabbed Hector, pulling them both under the goose's outstretched wing, and threw themselves out through the portrait door. Ignoring the startled cries of the Fat Lady, Hector slammed the door shut, only able to close it fully when Ron threw his entire weight against the frame.
Honk!" cried the goose from inside the Common Room.
"Good heavens!" shrieked the Fat Lady. She shakily stood from her stool. "What is that?"
Ron said, ears bright red, "A goose."
"As prefect," Hector said," It's my duty to contain certain threats You have no need to worry." He hastily recalled in Hogwarts: A History that the Common Rooms could act as a barrier from threats on either side of the portal door. "Clever thinking, Ron."
"Bit early for that," Ron said.
A goose stood down the hall. Much smaller than the one they had just encountered, but it had the same red eyes and orange collar. "Honk!"
Ron eloquently summarized their situation. "I hate Fred and George."
"Hn-honk," agreed the goose from inside the Common Room.
…
Most spells were useless. More appeared to create an intense flock, all searching for Ron and Hector as they remained trapped in a broom cupboard on the fourth floor. Perhaps it was cowardly of them, but one had sunk its teeth into Ron's arm. Hector was only grateful that most of the students were outside and enjoying the late spring weather.
"Where do you think they originated from?" Hector asked, pausing a letter he was composing in his mind to Fred and George about their lack of safety procedures in their products.
Ron sighed. He clutched his injured arm to his chest and leaned against a rack of cleaning supplies. "One came out of the locker rooms and started to follow me. I didn't think much of it until it tried to peck at my ankles."
This was a start.
Hector bit on his lower lip. "Now what purpose does it have…" Most Wheezes' products had a single focus, and once it was done, they reverted back to whatever usual form it had. He tried to mentally catalog what he had seen in the shop, the notices from Professor McGonagall about what to look out for from other students. Multiplying geese with a set target, but what for, what for…
Ron poked at his injury and hissed in obvious pain.
Hector held his hands out. "Honestly, Ron."
"It's a flesh wound!"
"It bit you!" Hector carefully touched the edges of Ron's wound - more of a large cut - with his wand. The skin began to knit together. "I have half a mind to send your brothers a Howler."
"You'll do that for me?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Hector turned Ron's arm over, checking to see if there were any other injuries. He traced the curve of a silvery scar from the previous year, following it to Ron's calloused palm. He looked up and saw that Ron was blushing.
It suddenly occurred to Hector that this was the most time they had spent together alone. There wasn't Halley telling them about what secrets Dumbledore had passed onto her, the other Gryffindors with their constant presence, prefects that needed help organizing their workload, nor Lavender Brown who was now entirely uninterested in Ron's life…
Hector opened his mouth, but Ron quickly shushed him. Leaning close together, they carefully listened. There were footsteps outside. The heavy breathing of a goose coming down the hallway. Hector and Ron remained as still as possible until the footsteps faded away. Hector let out a shaky laugh.
"Thank Merlin," Ron breathed. "What do we do now?" He cracked the door open, barely an inch, and checked the hallway. The hem of his shirt rode up as he twisted his body, and Hector caught a glimpse of freckled skin above the waistband of Ron's grass-stained jeans. His face was flushed with adventure, his red hair tousled from the flying he had done earlier. It was so completely Ron, even in this situation, that Hector felt like he needed a moment to compose himself.
Something clicked in the back of Hector's mind.
"Ron, we're the targets."
"Really? The geese weren't enough proof for you?"
"The geese brought us together." Hector pulled Ron so that they were facing each other.
Ron shook his head from side-to-side. "Yeah, I guess you can say they did that…"
A single red eye peeked through the crack in the door. "HONK!"
Without wasting another second, Hector clumsily pulled Ron down for a kiss. There was a sudden implosion of air, something falling in the air around then, Hector thought he saw confetti landing in Ron's hair, but he was much more interested in the way Ron slid a hand to Hector's back, his mouth warm and soft. It was like opening to a page Hector had memorized but found a secret between the lines. He knew every inch of Ron's face, had fantasized about a moment like this, but experiencing it went beyond anything else.
When they finally pulled back for air, Hector felt boneless as Ron nudged the door open wide. The goose, as Hector had suspected, was gone and there was only free-floating confetti in the hallway.
"Have I ever told you," Ron said, voice low, his blue eyes bright, "that I love it whenever you figure something out."
Hector closed the door. They had much to discuss in private.