Outfit

Bristol crossed both arms, his breath visible in the cold (and depressingly damp) autumn air. He was terribly hungover. A quick pint with George had turned into something far more savage and he couldn't hold his alcohol like he used to. The mandatory headache that accompanied too much firewhiskey had soon passed, but Bristol was left with a sore throat, aching bones and a general feeling of nausea. Nevertheless, he'd made plans, and when they involved his favourite cousin, such plans couldn't be cancelled.

Not that Erik, the relative in question, knew of these plans himself. Aunt Miranda had told Bristol that it was a Hogsmeade weekend and so, a surprise visit was in order. He'd got there a little early to catch Erik as he paraded down into the sleepy village with his friends, and Bristol was becoming all too reminscient of his own years in Hogwarts. These weekends were the best, and for a kid that didn't do so great academically, any excuse to get out of the castle was a good thing. He'd even had his first kiss in Hogsmeade at the tender age of fifteen, right outside the Three Broomsticks with a pretty Hufflepuff called Jessica Ward. Ah, those really were the days.

He pulled up the collar of his jacket, keen to keep the coldness from scratching at his unusually pasty face. No matter how many times he brushed his teeth or how many times he showered, sometimes there was just no shaking a bad hangover. That aside, the prospect of seeing little Erik was enough to brighten anybody's day, and Bristol had every intention of spoiling him. The other Collins girls were lovely and adorable, but there was something special about Bristol and Erik, perhaps because they were two of few boys in the big family.

Soon enough, groups of excitable students trickled down the pathway and Bristol immediately perked up. The sea of faces were mostly unrecognisable, of course, and Bristol stood on his tiptoes trying to spot Erik. And soon enough, he appeared.

Putting one arm in the air and waving it slightly, Bristol beamed and called out in his typical proud Essex bellow. "Oi, Erik!"

The cobblestone streets of Hogsmeade was flooded and busy with students. It was the first Hogsmeade Weekend, also the weekend before the first Gryffindor Quidditch match, therefore a weekend of Quidditch practice for Gryffindor that led to a grueling weekend for Erik. Though, after a break in practice, the little Gryffindor did get a pleasant surprise from Professor Levartian--a trip to Hogsmeade!

Even though he wasn't entirely sure why, since he wasn't a third year, Erik was excited to go even if it was with his head of house as an escort. His hair was a wind-whipped into a disheveled mess and he had a large flat magical band-aid sinking into one of his cheek. A red and gold sweater hung from his body and his pants were tucked into his boots, covered in green smudges of grain stains. And, finally, he also forgot to remove his padded gloves, in his rush to hurry down to Hogsmeade to get an order of ice cream...

Three vanilla & chocolate swirl ice cream scoops with cinnamon snowballs topped with cinnamon snow flakes and graham cracker crumbles caked to chunks of honey-oozing billywig honeycombs with a few strawberries slices, kiwi slices, and pretzel spoons poking out the side, served with frosted Scandinavian Ice Leaves in a blue graham cracker waffle lotus flower bowl that held warm chocolate fudge on its inside.

No melting ice cream. No bothersome cones. No trash leftover. It was a twelve-year-old's (and an ice cream store owner's) dream dessert, one of many that could be served at Hogsmeade's local ice cream store. Erik was in heaven. But the cherry on top of it all was when a familiar voice rang out over a crowd.

• "Oi, Erik!"

Erik's eyes went wide as he looked up from his dessert and he was holding a piece of pretzel in his mouth. As he stared at his cousin he began to give a small hop as a smile slowly spread across his face. Suddenly, Erik took the pretzel out of his mouth and hopped forward, taking a running leap toward his cousin as a small tuft of cinnamon snowflakes huffed away from his ice cream.

The younger Collins launched himself towards his cousin in a child like hug, "Briz!" For a moment Erik became completely and nearly oblivious to the fact he was balancing a fantastic bowl of ice cream while giving the hug, possibly smearing some fudge seeping from the waffle bowl that got chipped upon impact with the Tutshill Tornadoes player.

Erik laughed and looked up at his cousin, "Did you come to practice Quidditch with me?" the quip was filled mostly with bubbly sarcasm since Erik wasn't sure if his parents told Bristol he was on the Gryffindor team or not, (he wasn't sure if he really remembered telling them either, but eh, whatever.)

Bristol caught his cousin with both arms, spinning him round in a tight brotherly hug. Unaware of the bowl of ice cream that precariously nestled in Erik's hand, the elder Collins quickly caught on, flicking his wand from his back pocket and immediately aiming it at the sundae. Thankfully, the sticky treat paused seconds before smearing Bristol's crisp (and expensive) shirt. One arm around Erik's shoulders, the other gently hovered it back towards the little cousin's hands away from harms way. "How you doing, pal? Spoke to your parents and decided to surprise you, been a while since I've visited Hogsmeade," he said reminiscently, a little taken aback by the considerable growth Erik had made. "I thought me and you would go get something to eat, maybe play a little Quidditch, and you can tell me everything you've been up to, how does that sound?" Bristol was thoroughly positive about his own preposition, excited like a schoolboy to be spending his afternoon with the best Gryffindor he could think of.

Burying his hands into his pockets, Bristol led the way towards Hogsmeade, walking side-by-side with the younger boy. He tended to ignore stares from schoolchildren since they'd become so commonplace, but Bristol couldn't help but feel a little pride at helping out a cousin. It wasn't everyday somebody could say they were related to a Quidditch star. And speaking of the beautiful sport...

"Your mum told me all about making the team, get in there mate!" Bristol cheerfully exclaimed, holding out a hand for Erik to low-five. "What position you playing? You a chaser like your daft old cousin or a glory boy seeker? Really pleased with you mate." It was the sort of feeling Bristol always harbored for Erik; the younger Collins boy following in his footsteps. Sometimes, it made him long for a son, but others, he was just pleased to be so close with family. He knew plenty of people who weren't.

Turning the corner into the square, Bristol looked towards the Three Broomsticks, tempted by the promise of a good roast, plenty of gravy and a tall pint of butterbeer. The training diet could wait, for one day at least. "Your sisters about? Could treat them to a bit of grub as well if they're hungry, don't want to be picking favourites now do I?" Bristol winked at Erik, as if letting him in on some major secret when both of them knew he was the 'special little cousin'. "So come one, pipe up, what's new?"

"You want to know everything I've been up to?" Erik smiled as his voice gave an innocent whine. Then he let go of his cousin and then picked at his ice cream a little bit more before he also added, with a mouthful of strawberry, "Oooh, I want food! Can I bring my dessert too?" The best part of the wizarding world is that they often didn't care so much about rules and formalities in business places, it was about building relationships, and even if Erik didn't have his famous cousin with him, presumed he could get away with bringing ice cream into a normal restaurant. You know, if he wasn't with his parents.

"Nah no way," Erik began as the topic shifted to Quidditch, "Chaser. Raine, the captain, said I was too easily distracted to be a Seeker," he put another spoonful of honeycomb and ice cream in his mouth as he happily hopped along next to his cousin.

"And my sisters are probably too busy chasing boys," he said cheekily as he looked around to make sure neither of the Hufflepuffs were in close proximity. All he saw were a bunch curious classmates staring at them, "So I'll just have to be your favorite!"

As they approached the Three Broomsticks Erik finally decided to give his cousin a proper answer to his inquiries. He took one of his pretzel spoons and began pointing to his magical band aids and purple spots, "Well, I have a bruise here, and here, and I think I broke something earlier--you kind of go numb after getting bashed by a few bludgers. But I think I know what it's like to build your own rollercoaster!"