Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

It’s overwhelming, Sidney realizes, for first year students to be away from home.

By the end of the first week Sidney has gotten into the routine of balancing his homework and baking comfort food in the kitchens after dinner twice a week. The other Hufflepuff prefect as well as the Head Girl give him a hand, carefully baking under his instructions. Even some of the school’s elves and students passing by from other houses drop in from time to time.

His parents half expected Sidney to be the same as all other first years – uncontrollably homesick – but he had been visiting the wizarding world with his godfather for years that he couldn’t wait to attend Hogwarts. Sure, there had been some bullying setbacks for the first year or so. (His godfather is the legendary quidditch player Mario Lemieux and owner of the Stonewall Stormers so that was to be expected.) Most of it came from the Gryffindor house but it stopped after Marc-Andre Fleury became captain of the team. Being that his girlfriend is also Head Girl, well, Gryffindor doesn’t give Sidney problems anymore.

He loves Hogwarts.

What he doesn’t love, however, is realizing his secret stash of peanut butter is missing from the cupboard. The elves let him put it there with an understanding: they get the leftover goods from the Hufflepuff bonding sessions and Sidney gets to store away whatever muggle food product he needs in their cabinets. It’s a comfort food that Sid isn’t sure he could live without.

Anxious, Sidney reaches his whole arm into the cabinet, hoping that it was pushed behind something else. When that fails, he looks into the cabinet on either side. He looks forlornly at the two slices of bread waiting to be made into the perfect PB&J. He left his wand in his dorm room, though perhaps now would be a good opportunity to try wandless magic.

Stepping away from the cabinets, he clears his throat and tries to focus. A simple summoning charm shouldn’t be too hard. He’s made a mess of the kitchen before – though, from baking with his house members, not from being unable to perform a spell. It’s on the tip of his tongue accio —

“Merlin!”

Sidney jumps, resisting the urge to clutch at his chest in surprise. Having apparated, Winky stands on top of the kitchen counter with a boy dressed in Slytherin robes. Her tiny hand is wrapped around his green tie, making him kneel on both knees to put them on the same eye level.

“Mr. Crosby!” the house elf says happily. “Come for your nightly snack I see. I’m just in time. Just in time to help Mr. Crosby.” Hopping down from the counter, she releases the boy’s tie. “Go ahead, show Mr. Crosby what you’ve found,” Winky tells the Slytherin. She looks so proud of herself.

Sidney raises a brow. He vaguely knows the Slytherin. Or that’s what he would say if Flower were around. He doesn’t want to admit that he’s a bit more than acquainted with the other. But really it’s just because Sidney can appreciate good quidditch playing. Evgeni Malkin might just be the best seeker Sidney has seen yet. He could have gone to Durmstrang but he chose Hogwarts. Sid’s slight infatuation has nothing to do with the fact that Malkin is tall and fit. No, he can just appreciate good quidditch when he sees it.

“Hey,” he says cautiously.

Malkin makes no move to initiate eye contact but he does pull out Sidney’s jar of peanut butter from his robes. “I take on accident,” he explains. “I not know it was yours. I’m sorry.” With flickering eyes, he looks briefly at Sidney then to Winky. Malkin places the jar onto the counter where Sidney’s slices of bread sit like a peace offering.

“Very nice, very nice.” Winky compliments, smoothing out Malkin’s tie with magic. Her big eyes look at him approvingly.

“It’s alright.” Sidney replies, a little breathless. A lot of students are wary around Winky. Many of the rumors that the house elf has a strong liking for butterbeer comes from words of truth. “Would you – do you want to share?” he asks Malkin.

Clumsily, Malkin gets down from the counter, his shoulders a bit hunched. He’s even bigger up close, Sidney notes to himself. Uncomfortably, he wrings his hands together. “Uh. I want.” Malkin offers a small smile, a blush across his cheeks.

Sidney smiles back. Then remembering himself, he holds his hand out. “I’m Sidney Crosby, Hufflepuff prefect, by the way.”

Malkin looks at Sidney’s hand, then closes the space between them, shaking Sidney’s hand. “Evgeni Malkin, Slytherin quidditch captain. Call me Geno. Nice to meet.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” Sidney smiles back. He has to bite his bottom lip to make himself stop.

He makes a personal note to himself that Flower must not know how Sidney’s first meeting with Malkin went. Preferably, ever.

• ••

The back of the library has become Sidney’s safe haven of sorts. It’s right in front of the locked restricted section so not a lot of tables are back there. He essentially inherited the table from a graduated Hufflepuff Head Boy. Nobody but Flower comes along to sit with him. Many of his friends say that sitting in the back of the library is scary. Not that he minds being alone.

He highly doubts he’d get half as much homework done if Duper or Tanger ever joined him. Even Flower has been guilty of distracting Sidney.

Two pages into writing about the history of medicinal use of mandrakes, Sidney loses focus. The library is too eerily quiet and it’s throwing Sidney off. He likes the sound of distant hushed chatter and the feeling of warmth from having so many students in one location. Instead, he feels cold and unnerved sitting in front of the darkened section of the library.

As if he’d break routine and sit at a different table though.

In attempt to refocus, he pushes his essay aside to focus on labeling the body parts of a Swedish Short-Snout only to realize he picked up a book on the Portuguese Long-Snout.

It feels like a bit of an excuse, but Sidney has been craving brownies for at least the past two hours he’s been sitting in the library so he takes his mistake as an opportunity to take a much needed break. He uses magic to levitate the books he had taken off the shelves and shoves the rest of his belongings into his satchel a bit haphazardly.

Many of the tables he passes are empty. Ones usually occupied by large groups of house members only have one or two people sitting there.

The hallways, being empty too, Sidney decides to just go back to the dorm where he can sit by the fire. Maybe take a nap, then swing by the kitchen before doing more homework. It seems like a pretty solid plan until Letang catches him from the opposite direction. His hair is gelled back like usual, his cloak on and his scarf in hand.

“Just in time,” he says, clapping Sidney on the shoulders. He looks at what Sidney is wearing and frowns slightly. “Why aren’t you ready?”

“Ready for what?” Sidney asks. He doesn’t remember there being anything excited scheduled this weekend.

“Seriously, man? You’ve been talking about it for weeks.” Tanger sighs, making a tsk sound with his tongue. “It’s Hufflepuff versus Ravenclaw in the first ever pre-season games. I thought you wanted to go.”

Sidney fixes the strop on his shoulder, confused. “I thought the first pre-season game was next week.”

Tanger shakes his head. “Next weekend is Slytherin and Gryffindor head to head. Not even sure if that game will be worth seeing. Their best players graduated. But I do hear that Malkin is favored to hit the big leagues once he graduates.”

“Yeah,” Sidney says a bit distantly. “He is pretty good, isn’t he?”

“ No ,” Tanger says incredulously. He takes in Sidney’s thoughtful expression. “No. No. No. Seriously, Sid?”

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Sidney swats Tanger’s hands away from where they try to hold his shoulders again as his friend laughs at him.

“You like Malkin. Like, like like Malkin, don’t you.” It’s not even a question, just a bold accusation Tanger throws out catching Sidney so off guard that he can’t deny it fast enough.

Cheeks red with embarrassment, Sidney pushes Tanger away. He attempts to step around him but Kris won’t let him go anywhere. “What even makes you think that I like him?” Sidney asks, which turns out to be the wrong question to ask. His defensive behavior only encourages Tanger’s suspicions.

“Well for one, you had that look. Like, the one when Bulgaria won the World Quidditch Cup. Like, if Viktor Krum as so much looked in your direction you would just die and go to heaven.” Tanger says, delighted.

“I just like how he’s a good player!” Sidney says.

“Sure,” Tanger replies, unconvinced. He puts his hand on Sidney’s shoulder, attempting to be serious. “But really, if you like Malkin, it’s no big deal or anything. It’s just, wow, I’ve known you for years and you’ve never had a crush before.” Smiling like the cat that ate the canary, Tanger asks, “Does Flower know?”

“It’s not a crush and no. I’d never hear the end of it if I did.” Sidney sighs fondly.

“You’re probably right. This will just stay between us,” Tanger promises. “So, do you still wanna come today or will quidditch not be the same without your eyecandy on the field?”

Sidney shoves at Tanger, laughing. “He’s not mine.” Not that Sidney would argue if Geno was. “But my assignments aren’t due until Tuesday and it wouldn’t be right to not go and support our house, so give me ten minutes.”

“Okay,” Tanger taps at his watch. “Make it in five. The game starts in twenty minutes! I’ll be waiting here.”

He half runs to where the portrait of a fruit bowl waits near the front of the Hufflepuff basement entryway. Sidney taps out the rhythm of the house’s founder, then makes a beeline for his room, already taking off his satchel on the way. He tosses it onto his bed, grabs his sweater and scarf, and heads back from where he came. Narrowly, Sidney misses knocking into a first year student smelling of vinegar. It makes his nose wrinkle but he doesn’t have much time to offer any comforting words.

At the entrance, he sighs. Following the smell, Sidney looks at the first year. Though it appears he showered in an attempt to get rid of the smell, it still lingers.

“Hey,” Sidney says, “I’m heading to the quidditch game with a friend. Do you want to come?”

The first year looks up at him, smiling shyly. “Sure. Yeah, that sounds fun.” He starts to walk but Sidney stops him.

“It might be chilly outside. Grab a sweater.” Sidney advises.

The boy nods, running off to get the Hufflepuff crested garment. The setback makes them miss a few minutes of the game but it’s worth the company. Sidney and Tanger cheer so loudly they startle the first year. Surrounding them are mostly fifth and sixth years, who, by this point, have learned to fully embrace the quidditch season.

Olli, with his first year optimism, accepts this in stride.

Hufflepuff keeper Matt Murray prevents the game from becoming a tie and the Hufflepuffs win their first game of the year 180-50.

• ••

Breakfast in the Great Hall is calmer on the weekends. Students can eat with leisure and often students abandon their usually house-segregated seating to mingle with their classmates. On weekends, Sidney sits with Flower and Tanger at the Hufflepuff’s usual table. This time, Flower sits next to Sidney while Tanger and Olli sit on the other side.

The longer they linger, the more students clear out for the library or the comfort of their own common rooms. Sidney likes it here though, with the comfort of his friends the basket of bread in front of them. He’s on his fourth slice when an enchanted Howler flies past his head, having taking the long route by flying around the much of the room. The red letter lands in front of a Ravenclaw boy who eyes the letter and immediately turns around, already knowing who the sender is.

Sidney has never claimed to be immune to curiosity.

“I swear if Ovechkin and Backstrom don’t get together before his seventh year, I’ll go crazy.” Flower says, ignorant to the expression on Sidney’s face as he spots Ovechkin in his Ravenclaw uniform while sitting at the Slytherin table next to Geno. “Nobody wants to hear what the Howler has to say.”

Tanger laughs, stealing the slice of bread right out of Sidney’s hands. “Speak for yourself. I, for one, am curious how Backstrom will turn down Ovi yet again.”

“Does that happen often?” Olli asks, saving Sidney from having to. Sidney tries not to get too invested on other people’s business.

Flower rolls his eyes. “Ovi didn’t start getting ridiculous until he hit year four. If he’s resorting to a Howler, he’s running out of ideas.”

Looking just as exasperated as Flower, Backstrom opens the Howler with an immediate look of regret.

“ You play wonderful game, baby! Hair look so pretty flying! Not win this game, but we win next game! Maybe we go to Hogsmeade next week together, yes? Of course yes! ” The Howler then blows a kiss before turning into ash.

Backstrom, without caring who’s watching, turns around and gives Ovi a thumbs down, then his middle finger.

Tanger actually applauds while Flower adds, “Well now I know not to send Vero a Howler expressing my love.”

“It makes for such good entertainment though,” Tanger disputes. “I mean, we live in a world with magic. How blasé would it be if Ovi wrote ‘Check yes or no’ on a piece of paper? His determination is commendable, though the method is questionable.”

Sidney gives a small laugh, busying himself with another piece of bread. “At least he had the decency not to do it when the Hall was full.”

“Not fond of big gestures, eh, Sid?” Tanger jokes.

Flower gives Sidney a side eye while devouring sunny side up eggs.

“I’d rather not.” Sidney shakes his head. He hadn’t known what a Howler was until his second year when a Ravenclaw student gotten one from her mother. The scolding was so loud it echoed through the whole Great Hall. Even with the Hall full of students, the Howler was the loudest thing in the entire room. He’d rather everybody not know about his dating life.

“Sid is a private person.” Flower says, “I bet he’d rather a romantic walk around Hogsmeade. Playing in the snow, purposely forgetting his jacket so his date would have to share, standing underneath the mistletoe.”

“It’s November,” Sidney corrects.

“Yeah, but you plan ahead so far I’m sure you’ve already had your first five dates planned out with some mystery man.” Flower elbows Sidney playfully. He quickly notices Sidney’s blush and pokes one of Sidney’s cheeks. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find a guy who thinks it’s endearing.”

Pointedly, Sidney stops trying to look over Tanger’s shoulder at the Slytherin table. Instead, he looks almost too intensely at Olli, who catches him staring.

His retreat to the library is swift and, more importantly, goes unquestioned. Unlike yesterday, tables are full of students doing homework and studying. Sidney takes a short detour through the bookshelves for the correct dragon book. He finds it, though it unfortunately, on two shelves too high for Sidney to reach. He stretches up on his tiptoes but it’s not enough to grab a book so slim.

Stepping back, he tries to think of the right spell. He thinks accio would do just right. Eying the book with distaste, Sidney starts to dig out his wand from his satchel. He hopes that this dragon diagram is worth how annoying it is to get the book down from the shelf. Muttering underneath his breath, he only notices he’s not alone in the aisle until he notices a shadow wash over him.

“Merlin!” he shouts, shoulders shaking as a table nearby occupied by Ravenclaws shush him. Sidney whispers an apology, not that they hear.

“Seem I scare you lots,” Geno says apologetically. “Need help?”

Sidney smiles despite himself. “Sure. Can you reach that book?” He points, still with his wand buried in his bag.

“Of course,” he says, and with ease, he reaches for the book Sidney had trouble with. Almost reluctantly, he hands the book over, as if that would be the cue for their conversation to end. But Sidney doesn’t want the conversation to be over just yet. Their previous encounter would have likely been longer if not for the fact that it was nearly midnight and with class the next morning, it wouldn’t be very fitting for a prefect to set a poor example.

“Thank you,” Sidney says, smoothing his hand along the spine of the book. It’s smooth, a bit dusty too, but it gives Sidney something to do with his hands.

“No big deal,” Geno replies, running his fingers through his hair.

Sidney’s eyes follow the movement, aware of how soft it looks. He clutches the book a bit tighter. It would be more than embarrassing if he did something like reach out and try to touch it.

Between the bookshelves, they teeter along silence. Sidney rocks back and forth on his heels, unsure of what to say but also unwilling to leave. He doesn’t want Geno to think he’s boring but nothing is coming to mind. Geno clears his throat, looking elsewhere and Sidney knows the other boy is thinking about walking away.

“The weather is really nice out, right?” Sidney blurts out suddenly in a normal tone of voice that earns him another shush.

Geno laughs quietly, his eyes roaming from Sidney’s eyes to his lips where he habitually wets them with his tongue. “Yes, weather very nice. Getting cold out.”

They fall back into a comfortable silence. Sidney is trying not to stare. Glancing to the side, he catches a flash of two Ravenclaw robes. They go mostly out of view but there’s a hushed argument that Sidney can hear hints of. He looks back up to Geno, thinking that this would be a good time to maybe part ways. He doesn’t want to be around if the argument blows up. But Geno is already moving.

Geno follows the voices. There’s a flurry of Russian being thrown back and forth so fast that even if Sidney could speak the language, he doubts he’d be able to keep up. Clearly, Geno must not be winning the argument if Ovechkin muscling his way into the aisle is any indication of that. Ovi takes one look at Sidney and beams.

“Sidney Crosby!” he says in quietest tone of excitement he can muster. Geno spits out something in Russian which Ovi dismisses with his hand. “Would Sidney Crosby like to study with us?”

Backstrom crosses his arms over his chest, sighing. He looks at Geno with a sense of defeat. “I tried to keep him away,” Backstrom apologizes.

Sidney contemplates it. Backstrom is in his year so they have more than one class together. It might be helpful to do homework with someone in his year but that would mean either sitting somewhere new or inviting near strangers to his table. He’s not sure when Ovi and Geno had become friends. Since coming to Hogwarts, Sidney has never missed watching a quidditch game. Surely, he was positive that Geno and Ovi hated each other.

Still, this is his chance to be around Geno more. He tries to keep the reluctance out of his voice as he says, “Sure.”

Today he can deviate from routine a little bit. It’s safe. Plus, Sidney won’t have to worry about Flower popping up since today is Sunday and Sunday the Gryffindors have quidditch practice.

Apparently, it was the right choice by the way Geno’s expression goes from agitated to calm again. He smiles, though he cuffs Ovi on the back of the head. “Sid sure? Sasha no good for long focusing.” Ovi looks indignant but Geno adds, “You worst Ravenclaw I’m ever see.”

“Not true,” Ovi says, looking for Nicklas for reinforcement. “Right, Backy? I’m better student than you.”

Backstrom sighs. He looks at Sidney as if this is a recurring conversation. “Questionable.”

• ••

Much like a gentleman, Geno ditches his friends to walk Sidney to the Hufflepuff basement. Ovi teases him, stealing Sidney’s books to hold them over his head as he dares Geno to try and take them. Before Geno can intervene, Sidney gives Ovi a swift punch to the stomach, not enough to really hurt, but just enough that Ovi lowers his arm. It crosses Sidney’s mind that perhaps it wasn’t the smartest course of action. Ovi is at least a head taller than him, maybe thirty pounds heavier too, but Ovi only laughs.

“Feisty Hufflepuff,” Ovechkin laughs. “I’m impressed. Maybe you try out for quidditch beater some time.”

Geno never ends up holding Sidney’s books. However, he does offer to hold Sidney’s bag so he and Ovi can really fight, which then turns into a two-on-two fight proposal. They go their separate ways when the charms professor passes by.

“Sid,”

Clutching the strap of his bag, Sidney tries to block out the watchful eyes of the paintings around them. He knows they’re nosy. Going from painting to painting, they do enjoy their fair share of gossip. Especially inter-house gossip. Valeria Myriadd in particular has been known to be quite the gossip. Her fairy is particularly fond of going around all the paintings to gather information on students.

“I’m thinking you good at history, yes. Tomorrow at dinnertime you help me with paper?” Geno asks, drawing Sid’s attention back to him.

“Sure, of course.” Sidney immediately agrees.

Geno smiles and Sidney thinks he’s a goner. He wouldn’t even notice if Viktor Krum walked by them shirtless that very moment. It’s a problem.

• ••

For much of the morning and some of the afternoon, Sidney manages to avoid Tanger. Flower had commented on Sidney’s strange smiley behavior at breakfast. Despite Tanger’s obvious snickering, Flower hasn’t connected the dots just yet. He knows something is up. Sidney couldn’t help but keep looking over at the Slytherin table. Flower brings up the Howler incident again, then the rest of the Hufflepuffs break out into laughs.

Sidney is in the clear for now.

His mind is in such a daze that Sidney nearly hops on the wrong moving staircase. He does, however, make it to class on time still. Much of the previous class is filing out of the classroom when Sid arrives. Muggle studies is one of his favorite classes. It’s not mandatory in the curriculum nor is it a particularly challenging subject for Sidney. He’s a halfblood, with the majority of his childhood spent in the muggle world. It’s just so fascinating though, how wizards view the muggle world.

Without meaning to, he’s become a bit like a teacher’s pet. The professor sometimes is seemingly more interested in Sidney’s anecdotes than the course material he’s arranged himself.

“So you’re saying that this bird from your muggle world talks using their own unique language,” the professor says, speaking slowly so that he can write down his notes. “It’s considered a toy but not a pet?”

“Well, I mean, it’s not a real bird technically. It just looks like one. I guess it’s mechanical,” Sidney replies.

“Wonderful,” the professor replies in awe. “The next time I take a trip to the muggle world I must find one of these Furby creatures. They sound fascinating. Do they have a purpose?”

Sid pauses, twirling his wand as he would a muggle pen. “No, I suppose not.”

“No true purpose,” the men echos, leaning back in his chair. “Like the rubber duck all over again.”

“Excuse me?” Sid asks.

The man waves his hand off. “Pay no mind to my outbursts,” he says. Looking at his watch he straightens. “I’m afraid we only have a few minutes before my next class starts. If you’re not too busy tomorrow afternoon, I’d love to hear your thoughts on this Walkman. I’ve been tinkering with it all week but I haven’t been able to figure out how it works.”

Sid smiles. “Sure thing, professor.”

• ••

An unkind Ravenclaw pulls Sid aside after class.

“How far through life do you think sucking cock will get you?” the boy asks. Sid recognizes that the boy is a year above him but can’t think of much else. He’s definitely not on the quidditch team.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Sid says, shrugging. He puts his hand on the boy’s arm, watching how he flinches but doesn’t move away. “If you want some help, I could tutor you.”

The boy’s mouth opens and closes as he considers it, his angry expression melting away to something more confused. “Yeah, sure. Sure, tutoring sounds good.”

Sidney pats the student on the arm, giving a tight smile. “You should go wash up. Dinner is in an hour,” he says, reaching into his robes to grip at his wand cautiously.

The measure proves unnecessary when the boy nods his head, walking away seemingly in a daze. There’s still a tense furrow in his brow but he doesn’t seem quite as compelled to give Sidney any trouble. Sid lets out a sigh of relief. Letting his shoulders fall, he pats down his robes over his wand, made from beech wood with a single veela hair infused at its core.

He stays tucked away into the little corner until he’s sure that his classmate has walked away.

No sooner than when he emerges from his hiding spot does he run straight into the chest of Flower.

“ Ooh ,” Flower says cheekily, “coming out from a makeout corner, eh? Who’s the lucky guy?” Flower holds Sid at arm’s length by the shoulders, observing his appearance for any imperfections in his uniform or hickeys. With the exception of Sid’s flushed cheeks, he’s as put together as he always is.

“Nobody,” he replies a bit quickly.

Flower makes a disappointed face. “Oh, boo. One day I’ll get dirt on you.” Loosening his tie, they fall into step with each other heading for the staircase. “So, if you weren’t getting it on, what were you doing hiding out there?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” Sid says ending the conversation.

Flower frowns but doesn’t protest. Instead, he falls into telling Sid his new plan for pranking Tanger and the rest of the Gryffindor quidditch players.

“I don’t want to get in your prank war,” Sid confesses, cutting Flower off.

The boy only smiles innocently. “But Tanger started it,”

“I’m not saying you should,” Sid hedges, “but if I were to prank Tanger, I’d get slugs. Let slugs out on their gear.”

Flower pauses, looking amazed. “That’s disgusting and I love it.”

Sid laughs, turning left down the hall while he knows Flower will go right. “Well, just don’t give me any credit. I didn’t tell you anything.”

“Hey, the hall is this way,” Flower says, pointing.

As casually as he can, Sid shrugs.

“Hot date?” Flower asks sing-sing like.

“Nope, just a paper on the history of fortune cookies. Can they really tell fortunes?” Sid says, grinning at his own joke. To the best of his ability he books it down the hallway before Flower can interrogate him much longer. He hadn’t meant to go out of his way but he hadn’t intended on running into anyone on his way out of class.

Aside from the library, the Room of Requirement is quite possibly Sid’s favorite places to be at Hogwarts. Most of the time when he visits, the room is quite peaceful, feeling like home with a warm fireplace and a table for Sid to study.

A bit earlier than planned, Sid waits outside the Room for Geno to arrive.

It’s no doubt that skipping dinner will get a great deal of talk among the Hufflepuff table. Sid would never miss a meal, not even for homework – though, mostly because Flower would never let him. He can only guess what Flower must be telling their table. It would be nothing of ill will but Flower certainly enjoys embellishing things for the sake of being mischievous. How the Hat ever sorted him into Hufflepuff, Sid can only wonder.

Geno appears from around the corner, cradling something underneath his robes. He looks overly pleased with himself, the rest of his uniform endearingly rumpled from a day’s worth of classes.

“Hiding something?” Sid asks in greeting.

“Is surprise for later,” Geno confesses, though he doesn’t offer any additional information on what he’s hiding. If Sid asks, he thinks Geno would tell him, but he doesn’t. He likes surprises – from certain people.

• ••

Sid would like to believe that it’s because he’s the Hufflepuff prefect that somehow he’s ended up adopting a hoard of nervous first years but he’s never won that argument. Jake, Olli, and Conor all following from him from the Great Hall into the kitchens after dinner. Geno smuggled him a slice of pumpkin pie from the Great Hall so it’s only right that Sidney returns the favor. Unfortunately, pumpkin pie won’t be on the menu again for another few weeks which leaves Sid only one option.

Make it homemade with his flock of first year boys to help him. It takes until Sid puts the pie in the oven that he realizes he’s gained another follower, a boy in a Gryffindor uniform.

“This is Justin,” Olli says, elbowing his friend to say something .

“I’m Justin,” the Gryffindor says.

“I’m Sidney,” Sid replies. “I know where Flower hides his chocolate frogs. Want one?”

Justin smiles with a nod, likely not knowing who Flower is. “Sure,”

Sid looks at the Hufflepuff trio and fixes them with a serious look, though meaning to be teasing. “It stays between us. Flower doesn’t know I know,”

• ••

Coming back from another study session with Geno, Sid is left a little breathless.

Sidney can’t decide if the sixth year is playing with him or if he’s just a flirt. Maybe a bit of both. He’s certainly a lot more tactile with Sid than he is with Ovi or his other Slytherin friends. For the most part, they’re friendly gestures. Just little touches that Sid is almost positive that he’s reading too far into things. Sid likes how relaxed Geno gets around him. Mentioning how much Geno touches him – bumping their legs, leaning their shoulders close together, hugs pulled tight against Geno’s chest – would probably just ruin things.

Tanger sings K-I-S-S-I-N-G in Sid’s ear when he’s sure Flower isn’t close enough to listen. Otherwise, Sid’s meetings with Geno go unnoticed. He’s a prefect so he’s bound to be busy.

Geno catches Sid’s eye from across the room just long enough to send Sid blushing.

“Hey, Sid,”

Sid tears his eyes away from Geno to see Justin and Olli standing in front of him, the both of them looking nervous.

“Hey guys,” he says, glancing at Geno’s table to see the boy gone, “something wrong?”

“No,” Justin replies at the same time Olli says, “Yes.”

“Let’s go somewhere private,” Sid suggests, getting up to lead the way to the Prefects’ bathroom.

For the most part, aside from private whispers, Justin and Olli are mostly quiet. Sid wants to ask what the fuss is about but he supposes he promised them a private place to talk so that’s where they’ll go.

Luckily, despite being after lunch, the bathroom is empty. Sidney does check the stalls just to make sure that there are no unwanted school ghosts wandering around. There are none so Sid sits on the edge of the bathtub and pats the side next to him to invite them to sit. Olli accepts the invitation but Justin opts to stand.

“So, what seems to be the trouble, boys?” he asks, looking between the both of them. Neither one of them seem quite prepared to explain things.

“I’m not – I’m not normal,” Justin confesses.

Sid nods. Given the suddenness of their approach, Sid had been expecting something much worse. He’s sure that this is more than a coming out though if the color leaving Justin’s face is any indication.

“I guess you could say I’m not normal either,” Sid says to be encouraging. The House knows he’s into guys. He knows he doesn’t have to advertise the information but he’s also not afraid to hide it anymore.

“I’m not – that’s not the problem. I can turn into a dog,” Justin blurts out. “Only sometimes though. I got stuck once.”

“Like transfiguration,” Sidney concludes.

“I don’t need a spell to transform,” Justin adds.

“You’re an animagus then,” Sid says.

Justin looks directly at Olli, unsure of himself. Olli rubs hi hands, scuffing his feet along the tile. The sound echos in the empty bathroom. “Justin’s a mudblood,” Olli says, barely a whisper.

“Oh,” Sid breathes out. “It’s nothing bad. Animagi are rare. Have you talked to the Transfiguration professor? You’ll have to get registered.”

“No,” Justin replies.

“Have you spoken to your house’s prefect?”

“No,”

“I can go with you, if you’d like,” Sid offers, happy with the way Justin seems to sigh from relief. “McGonagall can teach you to control it.”

“See, told you Sid was cool,” Olli says, getting up to comfort his friend. Sid watches already with plans in his head.

On the way out from the bathroom, Sid makes a last minute decision. He’s not sure if it’ll make Justin feel any better but Sid certainly felt comforted in knowing that he’s not the only one with a secret to hide.

“I’m quarter Veela,” he tells them. Olli’s eyes widen while Justin seems unfamiliar with the term. “You’ll learn it about in one of your classes, I’m sure. It makes me different too.”

• ••

For the most part, being quarter Veela doesn’t affect Sidney’s life all too much. Sometimes, he uses the Veela charm a bit to his advantage. He doesn’t like to but Sid dislikes confrontation more than he dislikes his Veela heritage.

He doesn’t have a beak and he can’t grow wings or claws. Whether it’s because he’s not pure Veela or because he’s never tried, Sid doesn’t know. His mom tells him his natural beauty has nothing to do with his Veela blood, it’s just that he’s inherited his father’s good looks. Just in case, out of the comfort of his traditional uniform, Sid dresses himself as plainly as possible.

Flower calls his sense of style drab but Sid prefers that in comparison to attracting people based on his Veela heritage alone.

Which is why, Sid has a scarf wrapped high around his neck and a sweater hand-knit by Taylor, her first attempt at her new hobby he’s heard about from her letters. His outfit looks clunky and complimentary to Sid’s form at the least.

“It’s cold at Hogsmeade,” is Sid’s explanation.

“You have to dress to impress,” Tanger insists though, nudging Sid with his shoulder over and over until Sid tells him to stop.

“Who does Sid have to impress?” Flower asks, arriving late but having overheard.

Tanger whistles innocently.

“Nobody. Tanger is just being annoying.”

Flower laughs. “Sounds like normal to me,”

“Hey!” Tanger protests.

“Hey, you too,”

Sid’s breath hitches slightly, eyes falling on Geno in normal clothes. He’s not wearing anything particularly special, just a pair of jeans with a white v-neck and a gray sweater over it. He looks comfortable and invitingly warm. Heat rises to Sid’s cheeks as he tries to hide the bottom half of his face away into his scarf.

“We all go Hogsmeade together?” Geno suggests, openly looking at Sid alone.

“That reminds me,” Tanger cuts in, “I need to get a Christmas gift for Cath and I need you to help me.”

Flower raises a brow. “Why me?”

“‘Cause Sid is a bachelor, he’s no help. Let’s go,” Tanger insists, readily dragging Flower away from the scene. He steers  Flower forward by the shoulders, not missing the chance to take one more look behind to give Sid an obvious thumbs up.

“We go?” Geno asks. Sid tries not to stare too obviously when Geno licks his bottom lip.

Geno beams when Sid agrees, ducking his head to invade Sid’s space. For a second, Sid thought he was crazy enough to ask Geno to kiss him.