Chapter Text
Keeping up with Lee as he dashed through the Hogwarts halls was no less exhausting than it was the first time, further complicated by the fact that they kept having to dart into side passages and duck behind statuary to avoid the watchful eyes of the patrolling teachers, on the lookout for students sneaking away from the dance.
Finally, they found themselves back outside the Hufflepuff common room. Lee glanced up and down the kitchen hallways, wide-eyed and frantic - he could not have looked more suspicious if he tried. Fortunately, the only living things around were a few House Elves pushing carts of dirtied cutlery and empty chafing dishes into the kitchen entrance.
“Just act natural,” Lee scolded, rapping his knuckles on the barrel. Gaara chose not to comment on the fact that he was merely standing there, looking the same as he always did (though still wrapped in Lee’s cloak), while Lee was acting perhaps as unnatural as it was possible for a person to act.
The earthen passage to the common room proper was too narrow for two people to walk side-by-side, but they attempted it gamely nonetheless, hips bumping into one another and elbows jostling until, with a sigh of frustration, Lee made the executive decision to take Gaara’s hand instead.
The common room was empty upon their arrival but for the blazing fire and the crumpled form of a third year student, who had seemingly fallen asleep while waiting for her older peers to return from the Ball. Lee quietly retrieved one of the many knitted afghans that hung over the backs of the overstuffed chairs littering the room and tucked it over her tiny body, giving her a gentle pat on the head. She stirred, blinking muzzily, then nuzzled back into the blanket and drifted off. Gaara’s heart skipped several beats.
Lee looked carefully around the common room one last time before leading Gaara up the stairs to the sixth year boys’ dormitory.
“Everyone should still be at the dance,” he whispered unnecessarily, as they climbed the low-ceilinged stairway. The stairwell was lined with varicolored potted plants on either side, everything from the long green tendrils of Flitterblooms to the unique purple shoots of Bouncing Bulbs. Gaara smiled despite himself; had he been given the choice, he would have wanted his own dormitory to resemble this place.
The dorm room itself was exquisitely warm, heated by copper bedwarmers that hung next to every four-poster bed, though the air was slightly overcome by the dirty sock smell of teenage boys living communally. The room was scattered with the accumulated detritus of Lee’s peers in a way that it would never have been acceptable at Durmstrang. A large, clearly previously worn pair of underwear hung over the bulb of the copper lamp next to one student’s bed, and another’s bedside table boasted a host of grease-ringed bowls and grimy coffee cups.
Lee’s own bed-space was immediately identifiable: his bed was neatly made with perfect hospital corners and his many Care of Magical Creatures books were stacked in a tidy pile at his bedside, arranged by size. Atop the trunk at the end of his bed sat an orderly row of heavy-looking iron weights. Gaara took a seat on the fluffy patchwork quilt that topped Lee’s bed while Lee shifted his roommates’ clutter to give himself enough space to open his trunk.
Gaara found himself rubbing a bit of pilled fabric between his fingers, idly imagining what it might be like to attend such a school - a warm, cozy place where caring for one another was prioritized, where living things took root and flourished, where lasting bonds were formed and sustained.
He was stirred from his reverie by Lee finally sitting up, broomstick held aloft in his hand.
“Here we are!” he said. “Ready to go?”
Gaara looked it over dubiously.
“It looks very fast.”
The tips of Lee’s ears went red.
“It’s just an old Cleansweep of my uncle’s, nothing fancy,” he reassured Gaara, standing and walking to the door of the room. Gaara jumped to his feet and quickly followed him. “You don’t have anything to worry about.” As they descended the narrow stairway, Lee turned suddenly and clapped Gaara on the shoulder, giving him a comforting squeeze. “Besides, I’ll be there to take care of you.”
Gaara was quite sure his heart stopped until they made it back outside, and the cold bite of the winter air shocked it back into beating.
They ended up next to the stables again, far away from the music of the Great Hall and the enchanted lights of the gardens. Lee gave a low whistle and Ningame trotted over. They exchanged bows, and Lee held out a bit of sausage that he had secreted somewhere in his robes. The Hippogriff snatched it from his fingers, tilted its head back, and swallowed the meat without chewing. Then it turned to regard Gaara with an intent stare.
“Don’t be greedy, now,” Lee scolded the creature. “He’s not brought you anything.”
The Hippogriff gave a derisive snort and stomped back off to its paddock.
Lee laughed, a bright, ringing sound that made Gaara’s chest go tight.
“Right, then,” he said. “First things first, let’s get you on the broom.”
He set the broom on the ground to Gaara’s right and stood in front of him.
“Okay, now put your hand out and say, ‘Up!’”
Gaara extended his hand.
“Up,” he repeated, though with only a shadow of Lee’s enthusiasm. Something hard thudded into his outstretched palm and he grasped it instinctively. The broom thrummed under his fingers.
“Perfect!” Lee clapped his hands and grinned. “You’re a natural! You have no idea how many tries it took me to get that far, the first time I tried flying. The broom just rolled around on the ground and wiggled for hours. I thought I’d never get in the air!”
Having seen the expertise with which Lee commanded his broom around the Quidditch pitch, Gaara found this hard to believe.
“Now, go ahead and mount the broom - ”
Gaara gingerly placed his leg over the broom and stared at Lee, wide-eyed. The thing started buzzing more insistently, and he could feel his heels raising as the broom tried to take flight.
“- and you’re going to kick off on your own.”
Gaara planted both feet and remained resolutely on the ground. The broom hummed furiously and bucked in his clenched fists.
“What’s wrong?” Lee took a step forward. His thick eyebrows furrowed in worry. “Is it not working?”
Gaara shook his head. The broom was working just fine, but -
“Um, do you not want to fly on your own?”
Gaara shook his head again, adamantly this time.
Lee smiled and gave a wink. The moonlight reflected in his dark hair.
“Not to worry! Everyone’s a bit nervous their first time.” He hummed a bit, thinking, then slammed his fist into his palm. “How about this: you sit behind me, and I’ll show you the ropes.”
Gaara considered it for a moment, then nodded. That would be acceptable.
Lee positioned himself in front of Gaara and smoothly slung a leg over the broomstick.
“Scoot forward and put your hands around my waist,” he said, and Gaara complied.
“Ready?”
Before Gaara could say, ‘Actually, I could use another few moments on solid ground,’ Lee’s boot kicked at the soil and sent them airborne.
Gaara’s stomach plummeted down to somewhere around his ankles. He looked down - the stables and the Hippogriff within were suddenly very tiny, like model figurines from a Christmas window display - and quickly buried his face in Lee’s shoulder with his eyes clenched shut. He leaned in closer and wrapped his arms fully around Lee’s waist, hanging on for dear life.
“Relax,” Lee wheezed. “I won’t let you fall. Besides, if you cut off all the blood supply to my brain, we’ll definitely end up crashing.”
Gaara relaxed his grip, but only minutely, and tentatively opened one eye to look down at the ground vanishing beneath them. The breath stopped in his lungs. Below, the Hogwarts grounds were spread out like frosting on a distant cake, everything covered in a layer of white, glittering with icy starlight.
“They key to flying is all about balance,” Lee shouted over the wind whistling through Gaara’s ears. “Your body tells the broom where to go. Let’s try a few turns. Lean to the left.”
Gaara felt the muscles over Lee’s ribs shifting under his palms as Lee leaned into the wind, and he leaned along with him. The broom smoothly arced to the right, swooping towards the treeline of the Forbidden Forest.
“Great! Now lean back a bit- ” Lee pushed into Gaara’s chest with his back, and Gaara leaned back too, fingers tightening on Lee’s waist. The broom slowly started to climb over the forest.
The next words Lee said were lost to the wind as Gaara looked down. From above, the trees jutted from the snowy ground like darkened skeletons, their craggy branches like fingers reaching up to grasp at the sky. Thatches of evergreens bristled like porcupine quills between clustered stones, hoary with frost. A tiny creek wound its way in between the trees, slick with shine and looking like a seam of ice. On its banks, the shadowed backs of some unfamiliar creatures marched in careful lockstep.
Lee followed Gaara’s gaze to the ground.
“Ah, that will be the Centaur colony,” he said. “Best turn around now. They’ll start shooting if we hover around here too long.”
As he spoke, a single flinted arrow flashed past the nose of the broom and arced back down into the forest.
Lee waved towards the ground and gave an apologetic thumbs up, then leaned sharply to the right and careened back over the open field, headed towards the Black Lake. The broom slowed to a leisurely pace, gently drifting through the night sky. Cold air blew Lee’s hair back until it tickled Gaara’s cheeks. Lee leaned his head back so that Gaara could make out the profile of his heavy brow and button nose.
“Just look at that moon,” Lee breathed. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
Gaara looked up. Above them, the sky expanded in every direction, dark blue fading to black at the horizon. The entire expanse was dotted with silvery stars, glinting and winking in their constellations. The moon hung heavy and low, seeming almost close enough to touch. Small furrows of windblown clouds skirted across the sky and came to rest in between the stars.
Gaara dug his fingers into Lee’s ribs dizzily. He had been wrong before. Dancing was nothing like flying.
They continued to fly for a while, Lee pointing out the finer points of broom handling as they went. Gaara hardly heard a word he said, fascinated with the changing landscape below him: the Durmstrang Ship, rendered tiny as a child’s toy bobbing in the black waters of the lake below; the Hogwarts Express transformed into a miniature train set on popsicle-stick tracks; even the Astronomy Tower, which they circled lazily, headed ever skyward, seemed like nothing more than the spire of a particularly elaborate dollhouse beneath them.
At last, Lee brought them back towards the stables. The broom started to descend, but the soaring in Gaara’s stomach continued. Even after they touched ground, it was a long moment before he released his frozen fingers from around Lee’s waist, though his immobility had little to do with the temperature.
“What did you think?” Lee said, dismounting the broom. He stood tall, shoulders thrown back, hair tousled by the wind and overflowing with joyous energy. “Ready to try it for yourself?”
“No,” Gaara said, stepping forward on shaky feet.
He grabbed Lee by the shoulders, pulled him down, and kissed him.
The broom dropped to the ground with a whiff of displaced snow. Lee’s arms came up and encircled Gaara’s waist, pulling him closer. Gaara breathed in the heady scent of brisk air and Lee’s heated breath, pressing their lips together hard. Blood pounded in his ears and drowned out every other sound in the still nighttime world. He lit up from within as if set aflame; his face, his fingers, the tips of his ears all the way down to the tips of his toes burned. He had never felt so warm in all his life.
After a long, slow moment, they broke apart, their breath fogging the air between them. Lee cupped Gaara’s face tenderly. His fingers brushed through Gaara’s hair and over the edges of his scar again.
“It’s getting late,” he said in a voice laden with regret. “I should walk you back to the ship.”
Gaara almost refused, almost shook his head and planted his feet right there in the snow and demanded that Lee kiss him again - kiss him forever - but he didn’t. As Lee took his hand and they began the long, slow walk to the banks of the Black Lake, he couldn’t deny the fatigue coming to drape over his shoulders, heavy as a quilt.
At the ship’s gangplank, Lee came to a stop.
Gaara turned to look at him just as Lee drew him into a fierce embrace. He would probably never get used to Lee’s unusual strength, he thought to himself, or at least he hoped he never would. The crackling of his ribs when Lee squeezed him tight was almost a comfort to him now.
When they separated, Gaara looked up into Lee’s face hopefully. Lee’s fingers combed through his hair once more.
Then, Lee pressed a tender kiss to Gaara’s forehead, right over his scar.
Shock tingled through Gaara, a buzzing warmth not unlike being stung by a Billywig. Absently, he looked down at his feet to make sure they hadn’t left the ground.
“Thank you for a wonderful evening,” Lee said. His dark eyes were a bit moist at the corners, overflowing with the sincerity of his emotions. “I have to get back before curfew. Will I see you tomorrow?”
Gaara could only nod, his hands falling to hang limp at his sides as Lee turned and began to jog back to the castle. He felt suddenly colder and tugged Lee’s cloak closer around him -
“Wait!” Gaara shouted, in a voice much too loud to be his own. “Your cloak!”
“Keep it!” Lee called back with a wave, looking over his shoulder with a grin that stabbed right to Gaara’s very heart. “I’ll find another one!”
Gaara wrapped the cloak all the way around himself before he boarded the ship.
“Looks like someone had a good night,” Kankuro commented as Gaara crossed the common room. He had his feet kicked up on an ottoman and was slouched down so far his head was lower than his knees, his formal robes wrinkled and disarrayed.
Temari glanced up from where she was massaging her reddened feet, her silvery high heels discarded beside her. Her hair had started to come loose from its elaborate braids and her ribbons trailed on her shoulders. She raised an eyebrow.
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” she said wryly.
Gaara didn’t respond to either of them, preferring to remain in his bubble of content for just a few moments longer.
Kankuro wolf-whistled at his retreating back as he ascended the stairs to his room.
Once he was inside with the door locked tightly behind him, Gaara made quick work of folding Lee’s cloak atop his own pillow.
That night, he fell asleep instantly and slept dreamlessly, surrounded by Lee’s scent and the memory of a warmth that never faded.
The next morning, Gaara split off from his siblings as soon as they entered the Great Hall. All of the trappings of the previous night had been dismantled, the decorations all stowed away and the Hall back to its typical bacon-scented arrangement of long tables and benches.
“Hey, where ya goin’?” Kankuro shouted, breaking off from a rousing one-man debate on whether or not he would have beans on his toast.
Gaara ignored him and walked straight past the Slytherins, making a beeline for the Hufflepuff table.
He arrived behind Lee’s seat to no small number of gaping mouths and incredulous stares. Lee, however, turned around instantly and regarded him with a jolly grin. There was dirt under his fingernails already - he must have been out at the Hippogriff’s paddock this morning.
“Gaara!” he cried, as if this were an everyday occurrence and not one of the boldest things Gaara had ever done in his life. “Are you joining us for breakfast this time?”
Heart in his throat, Gaara nodded.
Without a word, Tenten scooted aside to make room for him at Lee’s side. Gaara took his seat, thankful for the narrow space that gave him an excuse to press up against Lee’s warm arm. The other students at the table began muttering behind cupped hands, but Lee simply handed Gaara a plate and started loading it up with toast and eggs.
As Lee launched into a discussion of his favorite dances from the previous night, and Tenten queried Gaara on his preference of jams, Gaara felt a distant prickling in his scar. Dimly, he became aware of his father’s eyes burning on the back of his neck, but he couldn’t bring himself to care at all. Surrounded by warmth and friendship, he felt completely light inside.