Holly & Yew

C12

I do admire that snake fact (though don't think I didn't notice your provoking comments about the Roman emperors—you know how vital they were to our current democracy, Harry, which I think is very "cool," indeed), and I have one for you as well. Snakes make their own antivenom, which is why they cannot be affected by their own venom. They have a special type of immune cell that helps them if any venom does enter their blood. Another immune fact for you (unrelated to snakes) is that pearls are actually part of the oyster immune system. Whenever an irritant enters the mollusk's shell, they coat it in layers of nacre to protect themselves. This means each pearl is a little nuisance.

I am flattered that you have chosen the eyelash viper for me. I find myself wondering why you picked that snake in particular. Care to share your thought process, darling? For you, I deliberated for such a long time, flipping through the pages of my book endlessly. At first, I was drawn to the emerald tree boa for its delightful color (which still pales compared to your eyes). Ultimately, I gave up on finding the perfect shade of green and settled on the boomslang for its adorable shyness, its cute large eyes, and its whipcord sleekness, which so perfectly matches you on all accounts. If we were both snakes, I imagine we'd spend many lazy days in the sun together. We could curl up and sleep the winter away like Medusa does. It would be a very slow life, though I doubt it would be dull if you were with me.

Eternally yours,

-Tom

P.S. No, I will not stop using the thesaurus. Do not try hiding it again. I will always find it. You should be thanking me for bringing your reading grade up two levels, you little pearl.

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Tom turned nine as the year died.

Harry gave him a lumpy emerald scarf, soft as a dove's wing, that looked much better than some of his previous creations.

"You made this?" Tom repeated, in shock. "You?"

Harry scowled. "Why do you sound so surprised? Scarves are a lot easier than socks. And I thought you loved your socks."

"I do," Tom said smoothly. "But where did you get the yarn for it?"

"One of the ladies in the knitting circle had extra yarn from when she'd made a sweater for her husband. She gave it to me so I could make something for you."

It was a very simple scarf. Just a long rectangle of stitches. No wonder Harry had been able to manage it. Tom could feel Harry's magic thrumming through the yarn. Protection and warmth.

"I love it," Tom said.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked with narrowed eyes.

"I do," Tom insisted, pulling Harry into a hug. "You should have knitted one for yourself."

"There was barely enough yarn for one," Harry said with a shrug.

That was probably because Harry had made the scarf a meter longer than it needed to be. It was practically dragging on the floor. Not that Tom would tell him that.

"We can share this one then," Tom said, tossing the scarf around Harry's neck too.

Harry wrinkled his nose affectionately, spinning to wrap the scarf around his neck and making himself dizzy in the process. He reached for Tom to steady himself and Tom held him, laughing.

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School resumed, and their dancing lessons started up again. Marlow remained an irritant, like the buzzing of a fruit fly in Tom's ear.