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"Is it just me," Alex began one morning in September, idly stabbing at the unwanted grapefruit half on his plate, "or has Professor Lehnsherr been even more of an asshole than usual lately?"
The first classes of the day hadn't even begun yet, and already the weather was taking a turn for the worst; sheets of rain pounded at the windows, and a chill in the air seemed to permeate the entire castle. Weather matched only by Professor Lehnsherr's mood, it seemed, as the man in question was scowling at everything from his breakfast to the entirety of the Great Hall with even more venom than the students were accustomed to.
"It's not just you," Sean said darkly. "He docked 20 points from Hufflepuff the second I showed up to class yesterday. For no reason at all."
"You showed up half an hour late," Raven pointed out.
"And high," Hank added.
"That's just it," said Sean, gravely. "Usually I just get detention and he calls me an idiot."
Darwin swung onto the bench next to Alex, knocking their shoulders together to greet his boyfriend and nodding as the rest of the group chorused hello. Originally, their little group had gotten some weird looks for forgoing the usual boundaries of house tables at meals and choosing to sit together instead. They compromised by switching which house's table they congregated at daily, and everyone eventually stopped caring. Today was Gryffindor.
"So what's up with Lehnsherr?" Darwin said as way of greeting. He reached for the toast. "Did someone burn all of his black robes?"
"I think he needs to get laid," Raven said casually. Hank choked on his pumpkin juice. Alex's fork dropped to his plate with a clatter.
Raven had an alarming quality of being overly casual when it came to Professor Lehnsherr, to an extent where she usually got away with calling him Erik if not solely because Lehnsherr was always too surprised to even react. It was only natural, though; Lehnsherr's extremely intense (codependent?) friendship with Raven's older brother and only legal guardian, Professor Xavier, and lack of family of his own meant that he more or less lived with Raven and her brother at their estate in America during the holidays. He was sort of like the cold, distant, asshole older brother that her actual brother was always too nice to be, she said one time.
("Not that I ever see him or Charles," she continued, when Sean pressed the horror of living with not one, but two of their professors. "They spend all their time locked up in Charles's study playing wizard's chess or staring at each other over the breakfast table." She paused. "It's really not much different than Hogwarts, come to think of it.")
Raven went on. "Charles said he doesn't even know if Erik's even dated anyone before. He doesn't even think he did when they were at Hogwarts together."
"So what?" Alex said. He looked at her skeptically. "You think that thirty-something years’ worth of loneliness came crashing down all at once and the Prof is dealing with it by assigning us a shit-ton of essays in one night?"
"And you think we should, what? Play Cupid?" said Hank, raising an eyebrow.
"Who knows," Raven said. "At the very least, a one night stand might cheer him up."
Alex, Darwin, and Hank winced; Sean groaned.
"What poor sap do we inflict Lehnsherr upon then?" said Alex, visibly regretting conceding to Raven's point.
The group's collective gaze drifted towards the teachers' table at the front of the Great Hall, as if hoping a ray of light would fall upon the perfect candidate. There was Headmaster Fury, surveying his students in a way sharper than most people with both eyes could. Professor Frost, whose personality and demeanor matched the iciness of her name. Professor Howlett, clearly suffering from his fourth hangover of the week while Professor Grey chatted animatedly to him. Lehnsherr himself, dressed in his usual blacks, looking moodily into his coffee cup and occasionally sneaking glances at the chair next to him, where Professor Xavier usually sat. The seat was unusually vacant today.
Raven’s eyes were trained on the empty chair as well. "My brother," she declared.
Almost as if on cue, the Great Hall’s doors opened and Professor Xavier strolled in, looking as chipper as always. He had a large knitted Ravenclaw scarf draped over his shoulders that had been a present from Lehnsherr years before. He waved at Raven, and heeded her when she motioned him over to the Gryffindor table.
“Good morning!” he said, smiling at his sister. “I wouldn’t have recognized you if your posse weren’t here. I quite like the new nose.”
Raven was the only Metamorphmagus at Hogwarts (unless you counted Hank, who could turn blue at will after a nasty Potions incident their first year) and took pleasure in making sure everyone knew it. She cycled through faces more frequently than the average person did clothing. Today she favored a bright red pixie cut; the week before it had been spikey and blue.
Alex, Darwin, Hank, and Sean were too dumbfounded at what Raven had just suggested to do anything but wave halfheartedly at Xavier, but Raven grinned back at her brother. “Thanks.” Then, more innocently, “What’s up with Erik, by the way?”
“Professor Lehnsherr,” Xavier corrected automatically. He colored, and shifted awkwardly. “What d’you mean?”
Raven shrugged, and bit into some toast. “I don’t know,” she said nonchalantly, spraying crumbs at Alex. “He’s acting like the perpetual stick up his ass just got a little higher. You two have a fight?”
But Xavier was distracted, staring up at the professors’ table. When Lehnsherr caught his eye, they both quickly looked away from each other—Lehnsherr to his plate, Xavier back to his sister. Xavier cleared his throat. “Ah, no, he’s—it was just a misunderstanding.” He forced a smile back on his face and clapped Hank on the back. Hank’s glasses fell off. “You should be off to class! And I should be too, really. After breakfast.” He gave the five a cheery wave and continued to the professors’ table. Erik, Raven noted, had fled the Hall.
“Bless them,” sighed Raven, staring after her brother while Hank cleared remnants of jam off his glasses. “You can almost smell the pine.”
“Can we rewind this conversation?” said Darwin. “This is your brother, Raven. And Professor Lehnsherr. You’re being very…”
“Cavalier,” said Alex.
"Listen,” said Raven, “they already spend nearly every moment of every day together. If you throw sex into the mix, they'll be so busy with each other they won't have time for anything else."
The four boys seemed to mull on this. Professors Xavier and Lehnsherr's friendship was somewhat of a marvel at Hogwarts, in that it confused nearly everyone. Xavier was cheerful, and inviting, and the resident favorite teacher. Lehnsherr was intimidating, and imposing, and while he wasn’t unfair, he was very tough. Even in appearance, they contrasted—Lehnsherr wore navys and blacks while Xavier wore light blues, and Lehnsherr was nearly a head taller. And yet, they did everything together: ate every meal together, took walks around the grounds together, even sometimes co-taught lessons together, in the rare occasions when Potions and DADA overlapped. Raven swore that her brother even had a special armchair reserved for Lehnsherr in his quarters in Ravenclaw Tower. Most of Hogwarts already assumed they were together, but part of that may have been wishful thinking; nearly all NEWT students continued taking their classes, despite the fact that a majority of their hopeful careers did not require them, and it wasn’t because they had passions for Potions or Defense Against the Dark Arts. (And if Raven hadn't insisted Xavier would've told her if they started dated, their group would've believed it too.)
Darwin looked pensively down at his half-finished essay on the Unforgivable Curses. “Well…”
“That’s not...a terrible idea,” Alex finished.
Hank put his glasses back on. There was still a speck of jam on them. “Professor Xavier is the most likely candidate,” he said.
The four looked at Sean, who shrugged. “I’m not really sure what’s happening right now, but okay.”
Raven clapped her hands together. “Excellent!” she said. “I’m calling an emergency group meeting in the Hufflepuff common room tonight to discuss logistics.” Her eyes glinted; Sean felt afraid. “We’re going to do some diagramming.”
“Well, whatever happens, it better be soon,” said Darwin darkly, shoving papers into his bag while he stood up. “Alex and I have two essays to write for Lehnsherr’s class by this afternoon and I don’t know if I can take another.”
“Don’t worry,” said Raven. “How hard can it possibly be?”
Sean’s favorite place in the castle was the Astronomy Tower. At night, when classes weren’t in session, the place was a ghost town and he could lay on his back and stare up at the stars until the sunrise. Also, he could get high in peace. That was the most appealing aspect.
Sean had spread out his cloak to use as a blanket and was just about to get started when the door to the classroom swung open and a boy ambled inside. Sean recognized him in the vague sense of recognizing someone you’ve said maybe two words to; he was blond, stocky, and covered in a truly impressive amount of bandages. Sean could make out the yellow and black of Hufflepuff colors on his undone tie, and realized that he was a seventh year.
“Oh hey, man,” said the boy, stopping short when he noticed Sean. “I didn’t know anyone else used this room.” He shifted his gaze to the joint in Sean’s hand and his face split into a grin. “Nice. That’s what I come up here for too. It makes the stars look sick.” He gestured to the spot on the brick next to Sean. “Cool if I—?”
Sean grinned back and nodded. The boy laid out his own cloak next to him and joined him on the ground. “You’re Hufflepuff too?” said the boy, noticing Sean’s own black and yellow.
“Sean Cassidy. Fifth year,” said Sean. He pulled out his wand and muttered a quick Incendio to light up both himself and the other Hufflepuff. The boy made a noise of gratitude. “You?”
“Clint Barton,” he said, taking a drag. “And I can tell you and I are gonna be great friends.”
Sean grinned.
“So let me get this straight,” said Raven the next morning. “You have detention because you fell asleep in the Astronomy tower. Because you stayed up all night getting high and discussing philosophy with one of my Beaters, who also happens to be the boyfriend of my Quidditch arch-rival.” She chewed thoughtfully on her toast. This morning’s House table was Hufflepuff, since Gryffindors and Ravenclaws had early Care of Magical Creatures Wednesday mornings and it was just Raven and Sean. “Are you sure you didn’t hallucinate the whole thing?”
“He was so cool. Like, the older brother I never had,” said Sean dreamily. His eyes still looked bloodshot. “We’re meeting again next week.”
Phase one came into action later that day after Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw had a joint DADA lesson.
Lehnsherr's foul mood had continued into Wednesday, as had the weather; the temperature had made a considerable drop throughout the night and now lightning accompanied the rain. Lehnsherr and Xavier barely said two words to each other at dinner the night before, and Xavier hadn't even been at breakfast.
This did not deter Raven. If anything, it simply validated her theory that her brother made Erik happy, and thus her desire to play combination relationship counselor and matchmaker. And phase one would validate it further.
When Lehnsherr let their class out—with another two essays, as Darwin had predicted—Raven fell behind the rest of the class as they filed out, holding onto Hank to prevent him from leaving. Hank looked at her quizzically. Raven held up a finger and mouthed "phase one". Hank resigned himself to his doom.
"Hey, Erik," Raven said, marching herself and Hank up to Lehnsherr's desk. Lehnsherr looked pained. Hank mirrored his expression almost perfectly.
"Xavier. McCoy," he said, not even bothering to correct her informality. "Do you have a question about the assignment?" Lehnsherr clearly didn’t think they had a question about the assignment. Hank wondered vaguely if Xavier had tipped him off; Raven had cornered Xavier in Ravenclaw Tower earlier in the day on her own, and while she wouldn’t tell Hank what she had said to him, Hank could only assume he’d be getting a repeat performance with Lehnsherr in a couple of seconds.
"Nah," said Raven, with a shrug. “I just wanted to say that whatever you and Charles are fighting about, I don’t think it’s worth losing your friendship over. You guys fight over dumb stuff all the time, and he seems extra bothered by this one. So the overprotective sister gloves are off.”
“Charles seems bothered?” Lehnsherr repeated, frowning thoughtfully.
“Yeah, and you’d know that if you stopped ignoring each other,” said Raven, upping the petulance in her tone. Hank was impressed. “You mean a lot to Charles,” Raven said, pointedly. “Don’t blow it.”
And without a second glance at Lehnsherr, she dragged Hank with her out the door.
“...Howlett’s pretty chill about it, but he did get a little pissed when he caught me smoking in the pumpkin patch, so just try to stick to the surrounding area.” Clint took a drag and passed it back to Sean. “Don’t even try the Forbidden Forest. Banner and I did it once. Woke up hours later in the top of a tree, and Banner was buck-ass nude. Professor Grey had to levitate us down. Couldn’t look her in the eyes for a month. We’re still not really sure what happened.”
Sean was a little glassy-eyed, but nodded furiously nonetheless. A redhead, equal parts pretty as she was scary, took the joint from him. Sean wasn’t totally sure when and how she got there.
“The Shrieking Shack is the best, though,” she said as if she had been part of the conversation the entire time, choosing to only inhale a little bit of the smoke and then passing it back to Clint. “That was our first date.”
Clint nodded, totally unfazed at the sudden addition to their group. “Oh, 100%.” He stopped and seemed to remember himself. “Oh, right. Nat, this is Sean, my new protégé. Sean, this is Natasha, my girlfriend.”
“I know who he is,” Natasha said. She stared at Sean. Sean had the distinct impression of being sized up for a kill. He swallowed nervously. “You should come to the Shrieking Shack with us sometime, Cassidy,” she said languidly. Sean didn’t ask how she knew his last name.
“Do you think if I starting failing Potions I could score private tutoring sessions with Prof. X?” said Bucky Barnes, watching Steve paint the sunset over the Great Lake. He was lounging on the ground, chewing on a strand of grass.
Steve paused. He set down his paintbrush and wiped his hands on his pants, staining them with multicolored oil paint splotches. “I guess, Buck,” he said, unsure of why he was so bothered by Bucky’s extremely vocal mooning over their professor. “You’re great at it, though, I don’t think he’ll buy it.” He rubbed at a splotch of dried green paint on his wrist.
“Yeah,” Bucky agreed absently, and then he caught sight of Steve’s progress in his painting. He sat up quickly. “Man, Steve, that’s really something!” he exclaimed. Steve swelled with pride. “How’d a talented guy like you get stuck with me as a friend?”
Steve smiled. “Luck.”
Phase two of Raven's plan followed not long after Raven and Hank cornered Lehnsherr and Xavier separately—the groundwork stage, as Raven had called it. Lehnsherr’s moved improved considerably after phase one and he and Xavier had gone back to their normal ways, so Raven assumed her advice had worked.
It was Friday afternoon, which meant joint Potions for Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Coincidentally, it was also the time of the year that Professor Xavier started the unit on “forbidden” potions. Felix Felicis, Amortentia—and most importantly for their plan, Veritaserum.
The plan went a little somewhat like this: class would begin, as always. Xavier would give his little spiel on ethical potion use, no one is permitted to take any of the potion they brew home, yada yada yada. They brew Veritaserum, as they always do on the first day of the unit. Lehnsherr arrives, on account of Raven hijacking her brother’s owl to send him a request to stop by at the tail end of class. Alex and Darwin lurk outside the classroom until the opportune moment, then somehow use magic (Raven wasn’t really clear about this part—her diagram simply featured Alex and Darwin the stick figures with their wands out and high-fiving while Lehnsherr swooned into Xavier’s arms) to spill Veritaserum on Lehnsherr. Lehnsherr professes his love (with minor egging on by Raven; this part of the diagram featured Lehnsherr in a Jane Austen-worthy display and one big group high five between Raven, Alex, Darwin, and Sean). The professors run off into the sunset and everyone gets a much smaller work load. Nothing could possibly go wrong (no matter what Hank’s frantic notes in the margins of Raven’s diagram said otherwise).
Shockingly, it went wrong.
The plan commenced as it should up until it came time to brew the potion; it seemed Raven was wrong in her assumption that her brother would follow his usual syllabus, because at the end of his speech, he flicked his wand and Amortentia appeared on the chalkboard behind him in curly script. An excited murmur went through the class; Raven’s heart sank.
“Amortentia—or love potion, as you probably know it by—can create obsession, or desire, but not real love,” Xavier began, his lecture appearing on the board as he spoke.
Raven kicked Sean under their table. He winced violently. “Plan’s busted,” she hissed, as Xavier droned (listen, Raven lived with the guy) on, “we’ll have to wait until next class.”
“Good luck!” Xavier was suddenly exclaiming, and there was a flurry of movement as the entire class flocked to the supply cabinets. Raven swore and jumped up to join the herd, dragging Sean along with her.
The brewing began; Xavier began walking along the aisles to check up on everyone’s progress. Raven always hated this part of class, simply because Charles was always too concerned about being a supportive older brother to actually criticize her potions work. He usually just ended up declaring her a prodigy while discreetly fixing whatever she had forgotten to do. She tried calling him out on it one time, but his excuse was that it was an unfortunate middle ground between brotherly instincts and professorial duties. This was also his excuse for grounding her when he caught her being too obvious about sneaking alcohol.
(“You left it on the table,” he’d said. “You didn’t even try. At least pretend.”)
“The further along you get in your potion, the more you’ll start to notice a unique smell,” Xavier said cheerily after a few minutes of peering into cauldrons. “It varies from person to person, since Amortentia reflects whatever attracts you most.”
“What do you smell, Professor?” said Bucky Barnes over the din of the classroom, practically batting his eyelashes. Barnes was a seventh year, despite being in a fifth year Potions class. He was one of the students that took Potions into their sixth and seventh years simply for the view. Xavier had cut back on his offered courses that year due to an overcrowded schedule, though, and no longer offered Potions to students who didn’t require it for a career, such as Barnes. This did not discourage Barnes, who decided to retake fifth year potions in place of having a lunch break.
“Earl Grey,” said Xavier with a grin, “my favorite tea. Among, er, other things. What about you, Mr. Barnes?”
Barnes, clearly not anticipating the question, turned a little pink and mumbled something about oil paints.
This was when things took a turn for the horribly wrong.
The classroom door swung open, and Professor Lehnsherr stalked in, dark robes billowing. (Because Erik’s flair for being incredibly melodramatic at all times made him incapable of just walking places, apparently, Raven thought privately.) “Charles,” he said coolly. All conversation in the room died out. Raven caught Barnes glancing between the two of them eagerly.
Xavier lit up at the sight of him. “Hello, Eri—Professor Lehnsherr!” he said, and then his smile was taken over by confusion. “Is there...something you need?”
Lehnsherr frowned. “I thought you would know, seeing as you asked me here.”
Raven froze, and she and Sean slowly shared a look of dread. They’d forgotten the owl Raven had sent that morning, which meant that they’d also neglected to inform Alex and Darwin that this part of the mission was a no-go. Raven tried to crane her neck around to see if they were lurking outside the classroom as planned without being too conspicuous. She failed on both accounts. A couple of Slytherin girls looked at her inquisitively. She smiled at them.
Xavier was matching Lehnsherr’s frown. “I did? When did I—?”
But Lehnsherr was distracted. “Charles, are you brewing tea?” he said, glancing around the room and seeing only cauldrons. “It smells like your—”
Xavier coughed awkwardly. “That’s, ah, Amortentia, Erik,” he said. Bucky Barnes started snickering audibly. Raven and Sean, having finally caught sight of Alex and Darwin outside, frantically started waving to get their attention.
Lehnsherr immediately stopped trying to discern the source of the tea. “I’ll let you get back to your lesson,” he said, looking embarrassed. “I’ll—see you tonight.” Barnes started snickering again. Lehnsherr turned to go in another melodramatic swirl of robes.
Raven’s waving finally caught Darwin’s eye, and he gave her a thumbs up—and flicked his wand in the direction of Xavier’s cauldron just as Lehnsherr was walking past it. The cauldron tipped. Xavier made a desperate grab for it and caught the handle, but the Amortentia spilled all over Lehnsherr anyway. No one moved for a few minutes. Or spoke. Or breathed. The only sound was the faint one of Alex and Darwin high-fiving in the hallway. (At least that had gone according to the diagrammed plan.)
“Oh dear,” said Xavier weakly after a few moments of stunned silence, blinking at his suddenly very soaking wet friend. “Erik, are you—?”
Lehnsherr was looking at Xavier strangely. He blinked. Finally, a little dazedly, he said, “I’ve wanted to bend you over your desk since the second I saw you behind it.”
The class, wisely, stayed deathly silent. Barnes looked like Christmas had come early, and Xavier’s face was certainly redder than St. Nicholas’s suit. “Class dismissed so I can take Professor Lehnsherr to the hospital wing,” he said shortly, marching Lehnsherr out the door and simultaneously avoiding eye contact with everyone (but especially with Raven).
Raven slid down in her seat as the rest of the class, most of them giggling and whispering, filed out quickly. Alex and Darwin hurried inside and over to them. “Did it work?” said Alex eagerly. “I didn’t hear what Lehnsherr said, but he was all over Xavier on the way out—”
“Phase three,” said Sean. The look on his face was enough of an answer for Alex and Darwin.
The library was practically deserted as Raven, Alex, Darwin, and Sean ambled in after dinner that Friday evening. Most of the other students were down at the Quidditch pitch, but since the game was Slytherin vs Ravenclaw and Hank, their sole resident Ravenclaw, hated sports, they didn’t have much of a reason to be there.
Hank was already there and polishing his glasses in anticipation. The five of them met for a study group once a week, in which they all complained about their weeks for an hour or so while Hank “edited” their essays (which really meant he more or less wrote them). Tonight’s essay was an extremely boring piece for Howlett on hippogriff migration, and as always, Hank was the only one who’d started working on it.
“Did you really send Lehnsherr to the hospital wing yesterday?” Hank blurted out before they’d even so much pulled out their chairs. “One of the Slytherins tried asking him about it in Defense Against the Dark Arts today and he wasn’t very pleased.”
“There was a minor misunderstanding,” Darwin said hurriedly, at the same time Alex said “It was Raven’s fault,” and Raven said “It was Alex and Darwin’s fault.”
“A bunch of love potion spilled on him and he almost jumped Xavier in the middle of the classroom,” said Sean: Raven, Darwin, and Alex slumped into their chairs dejectedly.
Hank blinked. “I’m sorry I missed that,” he said, sounding very glad he’d missed that.
“Bucky said it was a once in a lifetime experience,” said Clint Barton, suddenly appearing out of nowhere in sunglasses to slide into the chair next to Sean’s. Everyone’s heads swiveled in his direction. He waved. “Clint Barton. Sean’s mentor in life, though I like to think of myself as more of a father figure. Nice to meet you.”
“Barton, I know who you are,” said Raven. “We’ve been teammates for four years.”
Darwin was squinting at Clint in recognition. “Didn’t I give you a detention for getting wasted and streaking across the Quidditch Pitch a little while ago?”
“I never said I was good mentor in life,” said Clint unashamedly. “Or even a positive influence.” He clapped Sean companionably on the shoulder. “Nat won the match for Slytherin so we’re all going out to Hogsmeade to party. You down, my bright and shining apprentice?”
Raven raised an eyebrow at Sean. “You’re on first name terms with Romanoff?”
Natasha Romanoff was a seventh year, beautiful, mysterious, Head Girl, and the Slytherin Quidditch team’s Captain and Seeker. She’d transferred to Hogwarts from Durmstrang in her second year after her parents suddenly decided to up and leave Moscow for London, and she was rumored to be everything from the heiress of multiple monarchies to a teenage assassin posing as a student to infiltrate the Ministry of Magic.
She also happened to be the bane of Raven’s existence, and to a lesser extent, her first crush. The former became the dominant title of which Raven began mentally referring to Romanoff immediately after their first Quidditch match against each other in Raven’s second year, wherein Romanoff caught the Snitch in five seconds flat. Her crush dissipated, and she became determined to loathe Romanoff until she beat her in a match. (Raven had yet to beat Romanoff in a match; Rogers on the Gryffindor team was the only one who ever had.)
Clint started leaning back in his chair. “You can all come too,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the group as a whole. “A friend of Sean’s is a friend of mine, and all that jazz.” He adjusted his sunglasses.
Sean looked eagerly at his friends.
An hour later, Hank, Raven, Alex, Darwin, and Sean found themselves crammed into a booth in the corner of the back room of the Three Broomsticks while chaos unfolded around them. Barton had been somewhat under-exaggerating the size of the celebration. And also possibly the reason for the celebration, as Romanoff seemed to be one of the only (if not the only) Slytherins there.
“Can I get you kids some drinks? Benefits of being of-age,” said Clint, raising his voice to be heard over the din; apparently a seventh year named Stark had managed to bewitch a radio to work without magical interference. Clint didn’t wait for an answer before wandering off in direction of the drinks table and Clint returned shortly with enough Firewhiskey to go around. He dropped the tray on their table. “Drink irresponsibly,” he said cheerfully, and then promptly dragged Sean away to show off to his fellow seventh years. Raven was grinning excitedly, her hair bright pink for the occasion. Darwin and Hank eyed the glasses with trepidation.
“Technically Hank and I should be giving each other detentions for this,” said Darwin.
Alex put an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Ah, come on, don't be such a prefect.”
Before Raven could grab her drink, Bucky Barnes suddenly dropped into Sean’s newly vacant seat and cleared his throat. “Hey,” he said, nodding to Raven.
Raven looked at him quizzically. She and Barnes weren’t exactly close, as he was a full two years older, but they played Quidditch together and he seemed like a nice guy. And he was a pretty decent Beater. “Hey,” she said, slowly. “Did Lang call an emergency practice or something for tomorrow?”
Barnes made a face. “Merlin, I hope not,” he said. At Raven’s curious expression, he went on. “I’m not here about Quidditch. I’m here to talk about your hot brother.”
It was Raven’s turn to make a face. Being Charles’s younger sister meant a lot of things, and one of them was being unfortunately frequently reminded that a majority (if not all of) Hogwarts had the hots for him. “What about Charles?”
“Well,” said Barnes, leaning back with the effortless ease he seemed to carry with himself, “Nat heard from Clint who heard from your young Mr. Cassidy over there that you’re trying to hook Xavier up with Lehnsherr, which, let me tell you, is a fantasy and a half,” (Barnes looked wistful; Raven fake-gagged) “Which is also a crying shame, because I bet Clint ten sickles that they were already fucking. And anyway, I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”
“You want to hook up with my brother too?” Raven deadpanned. Alex and Darwin snickered. “I think you’re a little young. And not his type.” She could see Sean being introduced to a short blond across the room and had to stop herself from glaring at the back of his head. She didn’t want Sean letting all of Hogwarts know what she was planning.
“I guess I have to up my tall, dark, and sexy-scary vibe if I want to compete with Lehnsherr then.” Barnes winked.
Raven made another face. It was one thing for her to make other people uncomfortable by bringing up Charles and Erik’s sex lives (or lack thereof), but another thing entirely for someone to do it to her. And so blatantly. She ran her finger along the rim of her glass. “Is this conversation actually going anywhere or are you just going to hit on our professors vicariously through me?”
Barnes looked a little sheepish. “I, um, actually had a question.” He glanced around and lowered his voice. “You know my pal Steve?”
Raven nodded. She knew enough about Barnes to know that he was nearly attached to the side of short, skinny, blond, and notoriously great guy Gryffindor Steve Rogers. “I know Rogers from the pitch.”
“Not so loud,” said Barnes quickly, looking back over his shoulder; Raven realized the short blond Sean was talking to was Rogers himself. Rogers waved at Barnes. Barnes waved back, smiling toothily, and then turned back to Raven. “I, um, don't want him to hear,” he continued, quieter.
Raven raised her eyebrows.
“But about your brother,” Barnes continued, “I was wondering if you could do me a similar favor. With matchmaking. Since you seem to know what you're doing, you know.” Alex snorted, but turned it into a cough when Darwin elbowed him.
Raven stopped running her finger along her drink. “You want me to find Rogers a date?” she said, incredulously. Another thing Rogers was notorious for: being incredibly awkward around the entire female population of Hogwarts. Raven wasn’t sure she knew a single girl who could match that level.
“Not exactly.” A blush was steadily creeping across Barnes’s cheeks. “I thought you could help me find out if I, you know, have a chance. With Steve.” Raven perked up. This was news. Barnes continued, “And I’d help you with your brother in return.” He looked awkward. “Or with whatever else you want. I’m pretty good at copying handwriting, I could write essays for—”
Raven held up a hand. “Never call Charles sexy or anything else like that in front of me again for the rest of my life and you’ve got yourself a deal, Barnes.”
Barnes’s face split into a grin. “You’re swell, Xavier,” he said, and then he was off with as little fanfare as he had arrived with.
“This should be interesting,” said Alex.
Raven, who was watching Barnes, made a vague noise of assent. Barnes was back with Rogers now, and had slung an arm companionably over his shoulder as the two talked to a boy Raven knew to be a Gryffindor Chaser, Sam Wilson. She sipped her drink thoughtfully. “It certainly will be,” she said.
November came, and with it brought Christmas decorations in every corner of the castle, another Hogsmeade trip, and the first snow of the season. And, coincidentally, a new stage in Raven's plan.
"Snow is sexy," said Raven, voice muffled, face barely visible under her thick black-and-yellow striped hat and matching scarf. She gave off the appearance of a large, blue-haired bumblebee. "Like, it's practically science." She wobbled slightly as she attempted to shove her feet into her boots.
Hank waited impatiently. He was starting to become uncomfortably hot under his double layers of wool sweaters, thanks to their close proximity to the Hufflepuff common room fireplace. "How exactly is that science?" he said.
"Oh, you know," Raven said, waving a newly mittened hand dismissively. "Huddling for warmth. Cuddling by fires. Baby It's Cold Outside, and all that jazz." At Hank's blank expression, she sighed. "Purebloods."
"Regardless," said Hank, as he and Raven (who was hobbling slightly thanks to multiple layers of socks) exited the portrait hole, "I still can’t see how whatever it is you have planned for Hogsmeade is going to lead to them cuddling.”
"Love works in mysterious ways," said Raven vaguely, and she waved as the rest of their friends came in sight. Alex and Darwin were in their Gryffindor red and gold and holding hands, while Sean lurked to the side in a puffy lime green ensemble that hurt Hank's eyes almost as much as it hurt what little fashion sense he possessed.
Alex and Darwin smiled in greeting. "Thank fucking God," said Sean, mouth full of what appeared to be some form of pastry. "You guys were taking forever. I need my Honeydukes fix, man."
"You sure that Lehnsherr will come down here too?" said Darwin ten minutes later, as the five friends traipsed down to Hogsmeade through several inches of snow. The storm had started that morning and had yet to let up, and their tracks were being covered by fresh snow almost faster than they could make them. Alex had slung an arm around his boyfriend, and the two were bringing up the rear. "I can't imagine him in snow boots."
"Oh, believe me," snorted Raven. "Any opportunity to get wasted and eye-fuck my brother across a table is good enough for him. You should see him at Hanukkah." Her eyes glinted. "In fact..."
Before any of the boys had a proper amount of time to feel a foreboding sense of abject horror, an all-too familiar voice exclaimed "Hello!" behind them. Hank had to admire Raven’s timing, really.
It was Professor Xavier himself, wrapped up in a ridiculously thick hand-knitted scarf and waving merrily at them. Next to him stood Professor Lehnsherr, looking as imposing as always in a black turtleneck, hands shoved into his pockets. He looked significantly less excited to see the group of kids than Xavier did.
"Off to Hogsmeade?" said Xavier, smiling at his sister. "Erik—Professor Lehnsherr—and I are headed there now." He flashed Lehnsherr a smile, which Lehnsherr nearly returned.
"Aren't you cold?" Sean blurted out suddenly, looking incredulously at Lehnsherr; his turtleneck didn't look particularly thick.
Lehnsherr observed him quietly. "No," he said, shortly.
Sean inched minutely behind Alex and Darwin.
"I was just telling the boys about how lonely the mansion gets during the winter holidays," Raven said. "And how great it would be to have company this year." She looked pointedly at her brother. "And I was thinking, we have all those extra rooms..."
It was hard to tell who looked more alarmed: the kids, or Lehnsherr.
Xavier, meanwhile, looked delighted.
"Charles," Lehnsherr began, warningly, but Xavier cut him off.
"Oh, of course!" he exclaimed, beaming at the four boys. "You're all more than welcome to stay with us for the holiday! I don't know why we haven't thought of it before." Beside him, Raven's smile turned a bit maniacal. "Erik and Raven and I would love the company."
Sean, who looking vaguely terrified, jumped in hurriedly. "It's okay, Prof," he said, as Alex, Darwin, and Hank nodded furiously behind him, "we wanted to stay at Hogwarts—"
“I told my brother we’d spend time together—” Alex began.
"Nonsense!" said Xavier cheerfully. "There are more than enough rooms for all of you."
"And you'll have plenty of time to make up the work you've missed from skipping my class," said Lehnsherr, looking at Sean like he was plotting his murder. Sean paled visibly.
"What the hell, Raven?!" hissed Alex once Xavier and Lehnsherr were out of earshot. "I don't want to spend Christmas with Lehnsherr!"
"You don’t have to. Erik doesn't celebrate Christmas," Raven said mildly, already continuing to walk down the path, "he's Jewish."
"He's going to kill me and none of you will ever find my body," Sean bemoaned. Some time in the thirty seconds the professors had been gone, he had collapsed on the ground and was sprawled about like a bizarre neon snow angel. "It was nice knowing you all." Snow was slowly piling on top of him. He didn't seem to notice. Darwin pulled him up by the front of his coat.
"It's Plan B of Phase Three," said Raven, "in case Plan A doesn't work." She had crouched down behind a snowbank, squinting ahead down the path. Xavier and Lehnsherr weren't that far ahead.
"What was Plan A?" said Hank.
"This is Plan A," said Raven. "Now hide behind me." Raven quickly stood up, wand pointed at her brother; Alex, Darwin, Hank, and Sean shared a panicked look and dropped to the ground. Raven muttered the incantation to the tripping jinx and quickly joined them.
They heard Xavier make a noise of distress, Lehnsherr curse loudly, and two muffled thuds that sounded suspiciously like two people falling into snow. And then Raven stood up, shielding her eyes and admiring her handiwork. The boys rose nervously behind her. "What did you do?" said Darwin.
"Knocked 'em into a snowbank," said Raven.
They heard a stream of apologies, all coming from Xavier, and it took the boys a second to realize that they hadn't just fallen into the snowbank; Xavier had fallen on top of Lehnsherr into the snowbank. They could just make out a bit of auburn hair and black wool beneath Xavier's ridiculous scarf.
"Merlin, Erik, I'm sorry, let me just—" Xavier sat up, realized he was straddling Lehnsherr's waist, turned bright red (which contrasted beautifully with the snow, Raven thought privately), and in an effort to roll to the side managed to fall back on top of him, faces inches apart. Their noses bumped. The kids held their breath in unison.
Then Lehnsherr started laughing, something that chilled Sean to the bone; he'd never seen Lehnsherr express anything remotely akin to glee. Or happiness. Maybe Raven was actually onto something here.
"How very forward, Charles," Lehnsherr said, as Xavier spluttered in indignation. "But buy me dinner before you decide to jump me next time."
Even from afar, they could see how furiously Xavier was blushing as he finally managed to get on his feet. He offered a hand to Lehnsherr. "Oh, shut up," he said, but he looked seconds away from laughter too.
They went on their way, talking animatedly once again as if nothing had happened. Alex swore. Darwin groaned.
"This is incredible," Raven marveled, "they seem to be somehow cockblocking themselves."
December approached fast, and the next couple weeks before winter holiday were a semi-disastrous blur of midterm exams, late nights in the library, one extremely memorable snowball fight, and half a dozen more failed attempts at matchmaking. And, happily for Bucky Barnes, one successful attempt.
Raven had been doing her research on Steve Rogers. When he and Barnes weren’t together, he was either with Sam Wilson—an equally wonderful guy—or Natasha Romanoff—Satan incarnate. Rogers was asthmatic, allergic to half of the major food groups, a great artist, and had his own bed reserved in the Hospital Wing because he got into so many fights defending younger students. He studied in the library with Wilson, Barnes, Romanoff, and Barton every Tuesday, and held Quidditch practice every Wednesday (he was a damn good Seeker). He wore glasses. And he was also utterly in love with Bucky Barnes, Raven decided.
She had not stalked Rogers, no matter what Darwin said. She’d just simply weaseled Rogers’ class schedule out of Barton after cornering him in the common room one night and worked from that point onward. The being in love bit wasn’t too hard to determine. She just observed Barnes and Rogers together for a bit. Rogers held on to every word when Barnes spoke; he waited for him outside classrooms so they could walk to meals together, which they took outside and under the large tree by the Lake; he would lean in to Barnes’s touches, which were frequent and dancing over the border of platonic.
She took her chance a Wednesday night after Rogers ended Quidditch practice. He was alone on the pitch, packing up a Quaffle, when she snuck up on him—she’d chosen the look she reserved for Quidditch matches, an unassuming wide-eyed blonde, so he’d recognize her.
“Rogers,” she said, enjoying the way he jumped and dropped the Quaffle.
Rogers turned and squinted into the darkness, obviously confused. “…Xavier?”
Raven bent down and picked up the Quaffle. “I wasn’t spying on your practice, I swear,” she said, handing it to him with a smile. “I just wanted to talk.”
Rogers shrugged, and packed the ball away. He took off his gloves. “You’re friends with Sean Cassidy, yeah?” he said, brushing some dirt off the front of his Quidditch robes. Raven nodded. “He’s a cool guy. Clint introduced us the other night.” Rogers suddenly looked serious. “Look, I promise Clint’s not, like, a creep or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about—“
“I’m not,” Raven said reassuringly. Rogers waited for her to continue. She drew her coat tighter around herself, and realized she had no plan for how to continue. Indirect was for Charles and Erik, because they were both stubborn asses afraid of communication; maybe direct would work for Steve and Bucky. She threw all caution into the wind. “Rogers—Steve, I was just going to say that you should say something to Barnes about how you feel.”
Steve colored. “How did you—?”
“I didn’t,” said Raven. She winked. “You just confirmed it.” She slapped Steve on the back, and instantly regretted it when the poor guy stumbled a little and nearly lost his glasses. Steve pushed them back up his nose, looking even more embarrassed. “Tell Barnes,” Raven repeated, looking him firmly in the eyes, “or you will be pining after each other for the next few decades of your life and driving your other friends crazy.”
“After each other?” Steve said, brow furrowed.
Raven looked at him pointedly. “After each other.” Then, for emphasis, she added, “after each other.” Steve blinked, dumbfounded, and she decided her work was done. Also, she was cold. “Goodnight, Steve,” she said, “don’t let me down. I need to exploit your boy’s handwriting skills.”
She trudged off the pitch and back up to the warmth offered by the castle, leaving Steve more than a little confused behind her.
The next morning at breakfast, Bucky Barnes wedged himself between Raven and Hank on the bench at the Hufflepuff table, looking exceptionally elated. “I don’t know what you did, Xavier,” he said, words coming out in an excited rush, “but last night Steve walked right into my dorm and kissed me and I think I might owe you my life.”
Alex and Darwin’s mouths dropped open. Hank looked impressed. Sean looked confused, having dozed off at the table some ten minutes prior and just woken up. Raven looked smug. “Maybe not your life,” she said, and calmly reached into her bag and pulled out two rumpled scrolls of parchment. She smoothed them out on the table. One was a Defense Against the Dark Arts essay; the other was a Potions essay. Both had comments from the class’s respective professor scrawled in the margins. Bucky looked at them quizzically. Raven pointed to the margins. “How willing are you to forge our professors’ handwriting in the name of true love?”
“What would you call the Prof’s eyes?” said Alex thoughtfully.
“Cornflower?” suggested Darwin.
“I like aquamarine,” said Sean.
“But it has to rhyme with anew,” said Raven.
“Not if it’s free verse,” said Hank helpfully.
“I like free verse,” said Clint, thoughtfully. “It has a certain je ne sais quoi."
Bucky’s quill stopped scratching across the parchment. “Would you all please stop hovering?” he said exasperatedly. Raven, Alex, Darwin, Sean, Hank, and Clint all guiltily took a minute step back. Bucky resumed his scrawl. “One, they’re baby blue and two, I’m sticking to limerick. Free verse is pretentious.”
“So is Erik,” Raven pointed out.
Bucky sighed, and crumpled up the sheet of paper. “Get me a new piece of parchment.” He dipped his quill in an inkwell and added under his breath, “Still baby blue, though.”
“My dearest Erik,” Bucky wrote, while Raven egged him on silently, “Life is like this box of chocolates; I’m hoping we can share both together. Love, your Charles.”
“We need to be direct,” said Darwin, two days after the chocolates. “We need to take the bull by the horns and Seven Minutes in Heaven the shit out of this.”
“Our first kiss,” said Alex, smiling fondly at his boyfriend. Darwin beamed back and stole a kiss.
“Shoving Charles and Erik into a closet,” mused Raven, as Alex and Darwin continued to gaze into each other’s eyes. “I like the poetic irony. I’m in.”
“Bucky,” said Steve, leaning over his boyfriend’s shoulder to read a bit of whatever it was Bucky was writing furiously. He caught some stop lying to ourselves and a few mentions of elopement. “Should I be concerned that you’re writing Professor Xavier a love letter?” He paused as Bucky signed it in an elegant cursive that wasn’t his own. “As…” he read the name, “Professor Lehnsherr?”
Bucky rolled up the parchment and tied it with a ribbon as equally elegant as the handwriting. He stood up and stretched his arms. “Don’t worry a single bit, Stevie,” he said, kissing the top of his head. “I just may or may not have sold my soul to Raven Xavier.”
“Huh,” said Steve, as Bucky walked out of the room with the scroll, whistling merrily.
(To be safe, they sent another box of chocolates.)
Unsurprisingly, nothing happened.
Finally, it was the winter holiday, and before they knew it, Raven, Hank, Alex, Darwin, and Sean were packed up and boarding the Hogwarts Express with a month of awkwardly avoiding their professors, while simultaneously trying to hook them up, to look forward to. Raven was in a bad mood; her brother and Lehnsherr were arriving back at the mansion by Floo Powder, but insisted on the kids taking the train because Xavier didn't want to "show favoritism". ("I'm his sister," Raven had grumbled, while tossing her suitcase up onto the luggage rack with extra aggression, "it’s not favoritism. It'd just be being a decent brother. He just wants alone time with Erik.")
The five had originally gotten a compartment together, but Darwin had to patrol the corridors for prefect duty and Alex had insisted on tagging along (Raven was pretty sure that was code for "make out somewhere") and Sean had wandered off to get high with Clint Barton, sticking around just long enough to mooch off half of Raven's stockpile from the candy trolley. Which left Raven and Hank alone together. Which was more than just a little awkward, given that she was about 90% sure that Hank had feelings to some degree for her.
Hank seemed determined to make it even more awkward, though. Raven was making her way through the lone survivors of Sean's candy raid when Hank leaned forward, glasses sliding a little down his nose, and declared, "You're doing this for Charles, not Lehnsherr."
Raven choked a little on her chocolate frog. "What d'you mean?" she said, aiming for nonchalance but knowing full well the gig was up.
Hank pushed up his glasses. "I mean that you clearly are only invested in getting them together because you think it'll make your brother happy, not because you want less homework, or whatever it is you’ve convinced everyone else."
Raven tried to look offended. "How dare you suggest that this isn't for entirely selfish reasons," she said, hand over her heart, "I thought you knew me, Hank."
Hank settled back in his seat and crossed his arms.
Raven lowered her hand. "I swear Charles has been teaching you Legilimency," she huffed, avoiding Hank's eyes. "It's just...Charles basically raised me, y'know? Even before our mother died. His dad was dead ages before I came along, and when she died right before I started Hogwarts..." She picked at a loose thread on the bench cushion. "She never paid either of us much attention when she was alive, so all that really changed was that Charles became my legal guardian."
"And you feel like you owe him?" Hank said.
Raven shook her head. "More like I want to thank him."
"By setting him up with his best friend you think he's been secretly in love with for years?"
"By setting him up with his best friend I know he's been secretly in love with for years," Raven corrected, "because he told me himself over the summer."
(What had happened was this: Charles and Erik had had a row earlier that night about something stupid—meaning it was par for the course for Charles and Erik. Charles had been arguing for the benefits of doing away with the House system at Hogwarts entirely; Erik had argued for the benefits of keeping the House system. Neither won. Their usual chess game was called off so Erik could mope in the library while Charles moped in the study.
Raven, being the great sister she was, brought Charles a plate of dinner like she usually did when Charles and Erik were temporarily mad at each other, because she knew Charles would be too busy forming more and more counterarguments in his head to remember to eat. That night had been a little different, though; instead of pacing around the room grumbling and occasionally referring to Erik as unreasonable and impossible, Charles had been staring out the window, seemingly lost in thought. He jumped when Raven knocked on the doorframe.
"Dinner," Raven said, brandishing the plate; Charles had freed all their House Elves the instant he became master of the house, which meant on nights that Charles got distracted by research or Erik, Raven took on dinner-making duties. She was getting better at it, too, which provided an endless source of pride for her. She hadn't even caught the stove on fire the past couple times.
Charles looked at the plate guiltily. "I'm so sorry, Raven, I completely lost track of time," he said, and flopped into an armchair.
Raven set the plate down and took the seat across from Charles, the one that was usually reserved for Erik. "Thinking about House Unity?"
"Not precisely." Charles tapped the fingers of his right hand against the armrest nervously, staring out the window again. "...Raven," he hazarded, finally tearing his eyes away from the night and back to his sister. "If I tell you something, will you swear not to tell anyone?"
Raven nodded, interest more than piqued.
"I think I've, ah, developed—feelings," Charles said, going a little red. "For Erik—Professor Lehnsherr. I think I've had them for a while, actually."
"Really?" Raven feigned surprise. She was glad that Charles was finally catching up to what she realized about him when he was 23. "For how long?"
Charles looked miserable. "Since before you were born, I think."
Over fifteen years of pining. Raven would've laughed if it wasn't so sad. "What made you, um, realize it?" she said.
"When he got all huffy and left the room and I realized I didn't know what I'd do without him," Charles said, looking extraordinarily pitiful. He paused in consideration for a second. "Also, I realized he had a great ass."
Raven made a face. "Number one, ew, Charles, I don't want to know that. Number two..." She stood up and made her way over to the cabinet where she knew Charles kept his liquor. She pulled out a bottle of Firewhiskey. "You need to get plastered, pronto. It's the only solution." She tossed him the bottle. Charles smiled gratefully.)
"I assumed it was something like that," said Hank, smiling not unkindly. He reached forward a little awkwardly and put a hand on hers. "You're a good sister, Raven, and you will be even if Charles and Erik never get together."
"Yeah, but I'll be a terrible matchmaker," said Raven with a grin, but there was a twinge of gratefulness to it.
Hank didn't move his hand until Alex and Darwin finally came back, ties suspiciously askew, a few minutes later; Raven was surprised to find she didn't totally mind the feeling.
When they arrived at Platform 9 and 3/4, Xavier and Lehnsherr were waiting for them on the other side of the wall, Lehnsherr with a long, multicolored monstrosity in the vague shape of a scarf around his neck that Raven could only assume was Charles’s attempt at knitting a Hanukkah present. Lehnsherr looked disgustingly happy to be wearing it.
They were deep in conversation about something, leaning suspiciously close to each other, when Xavier caught sight of the group wheeling their trolleys over and waved. “We’ve got a cab waiting out front,” he said, bright and friendly as always. “Has everyone got everything they need?”
Alex, Darwin, Hank, and Sean nodded. Raven wondered what Charles and Erik had been talking so seriously about.
She found out that night, as it turned out.
The boys took off exploring the mansion the second they’d got there. Xavier had neglected to mention just how big it actually was, and they’d spent the rest of the afternoon after picking out their bedrooms running down its hallways. After supper—an incredibly awkward affair in which Xavier tried making small talk with the boys about their families and Lehnsherr more or less ignored everyone—Hank drifted off to the first floor library, Alex and Darwin to the billiards room, and Sean to the conservatory, leaving Raven to help her brother with the dishes.
“We could do this with magic, you know,” she said, as Charles handed her a newly rinsed plate. She dried it with a washcloth. “We’d be done in a second.”
“Yes, but where’s the fun in that?” said Charles, right before he dropped a plate and it shattered all over the floor.
Erik, who had been lurking in the doorway as Erik usually tended to do, made his presence known with a quick Reparo. Charles picked up the plate and smiled gratefully. Raven had a feeling Erik had been waiting for something like that to happen. “Charles,” said Erik, and jerked his head in the direction of the living room down the hall. Something of significance must’ve passed between the two of them in silence, because Charles looked very serious when he nodded. Erik stalked off down the hallway. Raven wondered not for the first time if they could read each other’s minds.
Two minutes later, she was sitting on the living room sofa while Charles and Erik sat across from her, talking in whispers. She felt vaguely like a child about to be lectured by its parents, and she wondered with a terrible feeling of dread if Charles and Erik had caught on to her attempts at matchmaking and were going to ask her to call it off. They finally stopped whispering and fixed her with stares.
“Raven,” Charles began, putting on his best professor voice, “Erik and I have something very important to tell you. We wanted you to be the first person to know. Or I did, really.”
Raven waited in silent anticipation. Charles seemed to be unsure on how to continue, and looked to Erik for help. Erik sighed. “For heaven’s sake, Charles, you’re making this needlessly complicated,” he said, “she’s hardly a child.” And then, simply, “Raven, I’m sleeping with your brother.”
Raven…had not been expecting that.
“Don’t be crude, Erik,” Charles admonished, as Raven gaped slightly. “Raven, Erik and I are seeing each other and I thought it was only right that you find out first since it was entirely thanks to you.”
“Thanks to me?” Raven repeated excitedly, snapping out of her shock. “You mean it worked?” She hoped the poem had been the straw to break the camel’s back. Bucky wrote free verse beautifully.
“We were acting like children before you knocked sense into us,” said Charles. “What you said about silly misunderstandings getting in the way of our friendship, and not letting important relationships slip away—“
“What?” Raven cut him off with a frown. Was Charles talking about the groundwork stage? As in the least important part of the plan? "But that was—" A look of horror crossed her face.
September
Charles paced nervously in front of Erik’s door. If he knocked now, it would be over with sooner. If he waited, he would have more time to think about whether or not he actually wanted to knock, which Charles wasn’t sure he did. He steadied himself. No time like the present, right? Wasn’t that what Raven had said? Not letting relationships slip away, and whatever? He raised a hand to knock.
Erik opened the door before he could. He looked just as surprised as Charles was to see him there. “Oh,” he said, “I was just coming to see you, actually.”
“I’m sorry about last weekend,” Charles blurted out. “We were drunk, and I was being stupid.” He fidgeted, not meeting Erik’s eyes. Saturday night felt like years ago, when in reality, it hadn’t even been a week. They’d been celebrating the start of a new term in Erik’s room and drank a little too much. Charles had kissed Erik mid-sentence, panicked, and promptly fled the dungeons. And had been avoiding him ever since. (He wasn't proud.) “So I suppose I owe you the truth.” He took a deep breath. “I value our friendship more than anything, Erik—”
“—Charles—”
“—and I hope that my feelings don't—”
“—Charles—”
“—make you uncomfortable to be around me—”
“I love you too, you complete ass.”
Charles blinked. “You what?”
Erik rolled his eyes. “I said I love you too. And if you hadn't been acting like an idiot for a week, we could've gone over this already.”
Charles felt oddly put out. “Gone over this already? I had a whole speech planned out!” he said, indignant. “You can't just assume I was going to—confess undying love for you!”
“Undying, Charles?” Erik raised his eyebrows. “And you call me the melodramatic one.”
“You are!” Charles fumed, and then, “That's not the point!”
Erik leaned against the doorway. “I’ve been waiting for you to make a move since seventh year,” he said simply, “and then you ran off when you finally did. I worried I’d been wrong about you, all these years.”
“Seventh year!” Charles exclaimed. “Why the hell didn't you say something?”
It was Erik’s turned to look embarrassed. “Would you believe me if I told you I, ah, valued our friendship too much?”
Charles was silent for a few moments, then laughed incredulously. “Good Lord. We’re both complete and utter idiots,” he said. Erik looked at him hopefully. “Oh, alright then. I love you, as you very well know.” Erik smiled delightedly. “Now kiss me already.”
“I thought you would never ask,” said Erik, and did just that.
October
The walk back from the hospital wing was tense. Erik hadn't met Charles's eyes since he’d gotten the Amortentia antidote.
Charles was the one who finally broke the silence. "So this poses an interesting theory," he said. "Did you know Amortentia merely removes inhibitions when the feelings are already present? Because I certainly didn’t." He managed to keep a straight face for a solid five seconds before dissolving into laughter.
"Oh, shut up, Charles," Erik snapped, but there was no real venom behind it. He cracked a smile.
Charles bumped their shoulders together companionably, still grinning. "Don't worry. Personally, I found you trying to grope me in front of my sister and a bunch of other fifteen year olds to be quite arousing."
Erik snorted. "Kinky."
"Under different circumstances, though," Charles began, waggling his eyebrows, "shagging on my desk wouldn't be unwelcome."
Erik stopped walking to consider this new information. "When's your next class?" he said, voice low.
"Tomorrow morning." Charles waited patiently.
Erik took his hand and steered them back around in direction of the Dungeons. Charles followed along happily.
November
They'd had a pleasant time in Hogsmeade; after Charles had knocked him into several feet of snow, he'd bought Erik dinner as an apology and they'd spent hours in the Three Broomsticks holding hands under the table like teenagers and arguing about whether or not MacTaggert should run for a second term as Prime Minister. In all, it was a great date.
Erik walked Charles to his room in Ravenclaw Tower when they got back to the castle, secretly enjoying the warmth while he could. His room in the Dungeons tended to get uncomfortably cold in the later months of the year.
"Dinner at mine tomorrow?" Erik said, leaning down kiss Charles goodnight after he'd opened the door to his quarters.
Charles cut the kiss short, but stayed close enough to be almost chest to chest. "I was thinking more like breakfast here,” he said, pointedly. He pulled on the hem of Erik's jumper and gave an over-exaggerated wink. Erik felt pleasantly warm. "I bought you dinner like you said, after all."
"Like I—?" The mishap in the snow earlier came back to Erik and he rolled his eyes, albeit fondly. "One meal and you expect me to fall into bed with you?" he said, mock-affronted. Charles smiled goofily. "Why, Charles, you must take me for a man of loose morals."
"Mm, yes, it's one of my favorite qualities of yours," said Charles, eyes flickering to Erik's lips.
Erik kissed him again, because he could. "Stop talking so I can fall into bed with you already."
"Gladly," said Charles delightedly, pulled Erik in by the front of his jumper, and shut the door behind them.
December
"I didn't know you wrote poetry," said Charles over breakfast, frowning at the piece of pink parchment paper that had appeared under his front door during the night. Erik's name was signed with a flourish at the bottom, underneath a truly awful series of verses. "It's, ah..."
"I don't," said Erik, snatching the paper. He skimmed it and let out a huff of laughter. "I think the word you're looking for is 'appalling'. And I certainly wouldn't refer to your eyes as baby blue." He handed it back to Charles. "They're cerulean."
December
Erik almost tripped over a heart-shaped box of chocolates a few mornings later when he tried to leave his room. He swore violently, and disintegrated the box with a flick of his wand without even bothering to read the matching card.
December
The broom closet wasn't horribly cramped, but it wasn't exactly comfortable either. It was also causing some rather inconvenient physiological responses that one would expect to have when your boyfriend's front was pressed against your own.
"This is romantic," said Erik dully into the pitch dark, almost getting a mouthful of Charles's hair. He could hear Charles's sister and her friends giggling outside. “I’m giving them all detention. Until I die.”
"Is that a wand in your pocket...?" began Charles, voice muffled by Erik's chest, but Erik stepped purposefully on his foot and Charles dissolved into quiet laughter.
December
Playing wizard's chess with Erik in front of the fireplace was great, but it turned out making out with Erik in front of the fireplace was even better, which was what most of their games were dissolving into eventually these days.
"Wizard and Muggle school integration is a fool's dream," said Erik, voice muffled on account of the fact that he was currently kissing his way up the underside of Charles's jaw. "There could never be a curriculum cohesive enough to benefit both sides."
"You, ah, need to think more broadly," Charles gasped, "if we started by expanding the Muggle Studies program here—Good Lord, Erik, can't we continue this conversation later?"
Erik grinned against his skin. Charles tried very hard not to shiver. "I think I'd rather have it now, actually." He braced his arms on either side of Charles's head, effectively trapping him beneath him on the kitschy loveseat Charles swore was charming. "Go on. Tell me your master plan."
"Yes, well," Charles said breathily as Erik continued his ministrations. "It's all very—"
There was a knock on the front door of Charles's quarters, and a student called out "Professor Xavier?"
Erik groaned. Charles swore and let his head fall back against the armrest. "Just a moment," he said loudly, wiggling out from under Erik.
Erik sat up and looked murderously at the door. "Do you not have office hours?" he hissed.
"I prefer a 24/7 open door policy," Charles said miserably, readjusting his cardigan and flattening down his hair. He glanced back at Erik, blushed, and threw him a pillow.
“They can’t even see me from the door,” Erik protested and rolled his eyes, but he placed it strategically over his lap anyway.
Charles opened the door with the vaguely condescending (in Erik's opinion) smile he reserved for students to reveal Bucky Barnes leaning against the doorframe and beaming beatifically. Charles's smile faltered. "Hey, Prof X," said Barnes cheerfully. "Can I come in for a sec?"
Charles sighed internally. Barnes was a great student, but recently he'd developed an alarming habit of asking for private lessons. "Is this about the homework assignment, Mr. Barnes? Because you can just resubmit the one you wrote two years ago, it really doesn’t—"
"It's actually about Professor Lehnsherr, sir," said Barnes.
Charles's eyes flicked back behind the door to Erik, who was looking increasingly more impatient. "Is that so?"
Barnes produced an envelope from his pocket; Charles's name was scrawled across it in what looked like Erik's hand. "He asked me to give you this. During class. Because he was busy," Barnes said in a rush, handing it out to Charles.
Charles took the envelope, trying not to show his bewilderment as Barnes immediately turned and took off down the hallway. He opened it and scanned it.
"What'd I write you today?" said Erik, stretching languidly. "More poetry? A sonnet? An ode to your di—"
"Apparently you want to meet me in the Astronomy Tower at midnight," Charles cut him off, reading the letter with obvious amusement. "Because you're madly in love with me. You go on to describe my hair and eyelashes for a few paragraphs." Charles put a hand over his heart. "Erik, you old romantic. I may swoon."
Erik got up and snatched the letter out of Charles's hand in a huff. "Decent approximation of my handwriting," he mused, looking over it, "and I'm assuming I have a similar one from you waiting for me under my door." He paused thoughtfully. “Probably Barnes, but I fail to see what he’d gain from—"
"Erik, darling," Charles said, unbuttoning his shirt.
"Of course," said Erik, and kissed him.
They forgot about the letter.
The next morning, on his way to his first lesson of the day, Erik tripped over another box of chocolates, which, according to the attached card, he'd sent to Charles. Charles watched in interest over Erik's shoulder as he Incendio'd it.
"When exactly can we make it very clear that we're dating?" said Erik, shoving his wand back in his pocket. He didn’t think he could take much more of whoever kept setting chocolate booby traps.
Charles kissed his cheek. "After we tell Raven over the holiday."
Now
“Means what?” said Charles, frowning at her. “Are you alright? You look pale.”
Raven was almost offended on behalf of her meticulous planning that Phase One, the groundwork stage, turned out to be the only nudge Charles and Erik needed. They wrote poetry, for Merlin’s sake. They bought chocolate. And all along all it had taken was Raven making up some inspirational bullshit on the fly to suggest they examine their relationship. The guys were never going to let her hear the end of this.
But it counted. It totally counted, okay. It worked, and Raven totally did it. That’s all the guys needed to know. She was so good at matchmaking she didn’t even realize when she was doing it. She was awesome. “It means I’m so happy for both of you,” she said, grinning, and meaning it. She pulled Charles in for a hug, and he reciprocated warmly. “I really am. It took you long enough, though.”
Erik smirked at Charles over Raven’s shoulder. Charles pointedly ignored him. “That seems to be the general consensus, yes,” Charles said, sheepishly.
Raven let go of her brother to study Erik. “Does that make you my unofficial second dad, then?”
Erik paled. “Absolutely not.”
“Tell that to the Father’s Day gift I’m already mentally planning,” said Raven. “I hope you like enchanted singing cards. And jumpers with my face on them.” She paused. “And mugs.” (Last year she’d given Charles a “World’s Best Dad” mug, with the “Dad” crossed out and “Brother Who Adopted Me” written above it in Sharpie. It was Charles’s prized possession. Raven wondered if she could manage to fit “Boyfriend Of” in addition to the rest on the same kind of mug. She resolved to revisit the concept later.)
“Charles,” said Erik, looking at Raven in vague horror.
“Family hug!” Raven declared. She had never seen Erik vacate a room so fast before.
EPILOGUE
Much to Sean, Darwin, and Alex’s collective dismay, hooking up their teachers had little to no effect on their nightly homework load. Xavier and (especially) Lehnsherr’s moods were vastly improved, though, even if they did seem a lot more tired in the mornings (the three of them tended to shy away from thinking about why that was) and had a tendency to stare at each other even more than before. Slytherin, headed by Romanoff, continued to beat Hufflepuff in Quidditch, though Raven decided that someone Barton was dating couldn’t be all that bad and privately stopped referring to the girl as Satan; Barnes stopped trying to coerce Xavier into private Potions lessons, pursuing private flying lessons with Rogers instead (which Rogers was all too happy to give); absolutely no one was surprised when word eventually traveled throughout the school that professors Xavier and Lehnsherr were a thing now. Life went on, as life did, though it was a little bit better for everyone.
“You know,” said Charles one evening, several months later. He was sprawled across Erik in bed, still breathing a little heavily, while Erik absentmindedly traced circles on his back. Erik made a vague noise that Charles took to be one of encouragement. “We never did find out who was sending us all those elaborate gifts.”
Erik stopped mid-circle. “I’d forgotten all about that.” He paused thoughtfully. “It was some truly awful poetry.”
“It really was,” agreed Charles, and Erik drew him close.