Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As he took his first steps onto the Hogwarts Express, Buster sped up to follow Michael and Lindsay, who were trying to find an empty compartment. He had never been more nervous in his life. And that was really saying something.
He’d never been away from his mother for this long. He would have Michael and Lindsay to show him what to do on the train ride there, but he almost definitely wouldn’t have any of his siblings to look out for him at school. He didn’t know what house he’d be in yet. He knew his parents wanted him to be in Slytherin, just like them, but he doubted he’d make it in. He didn’t think he was brave enough to be a Gryffindor like Michael and Lindsay, or loyal enough to be a Hufflepuff like Gob. Gob thought he’d be a Ravenclaw, which would mean he wouldn’t be in the same house as any of his family. What was he supposed to do without his family to look after him? Was he supposed to look after himself?
“Buster!” Lindsay’s voice snapped him away from his thoughts. “We found a compartment, come on.”
Buster followed them inside.
He was still scared.

It got worse when they got off the train.
Michael and Lindsay told him goodbye and good luck before heading off to a line of carriages being pulled by nothing. He saw Gob wave to him and give him a thumbs up as he also headed towards the carriages, flanked by his friends.
Buster followed the other first years (easily identifiable by their impossibly clean robes with no house colours and generally nervous demeanours) trying to figure out where they were meant to go. Some of them chatted amongst themselves, discussing their magical heritage or what house they thought they’d be in. Buster lagged behind the group, not wanting to be noticed in case someone tried to talk to him. He could vaguely see the outline of the castle, huge and menacing through the fog.
It was then that he noticed the boats.
“Oh no,” he whispered, hoping the other kids wouldn’t hear him as their chattering got louder.
They were ushered towards some rows of rickety-looking rowboats by someone Buster assumed was a teacher. Some kids (especially the ones who were boasting about being future Gryffindors) gamely jumped into the boats. Others (including Buster) held back.
He was starting to feel panicky. How could anyone expect him to row a boat across a lake? He was 11 years old! He could barely tie his own shoes.
As the panic started to take hold, he really, really wished his mom were here. He’d even settle for...well, no, never mind, not his dad. But Mom, Michael, even Lindsay or Gob would be a pretty welcome sight right about now.
He knew exactly what Gob would say. Gob would probably yell at him and tell him to get on with it. Gob thought he was a lot more capable than he really was. Maybe Gob was just genuinely better than Buster was when he was 11.
But the thought of his oldest brother yelling at him was oddly comforting. Gob had done this years ago. He’d made it through.
Buster took a deep breath and stepped onto the boat.

The first years huddled together (both for warmth and out of pure fear) as they were ushered into the Great Hall. A couple of kids had fallen into the lake and Buster thought he’d seen some kind of massive squid in the lake, but overall the boat ride hadn’t been as bad as he’d thought it would be. Now that it was over, he was a lot more scared of the prospect of being sorted.
His first thought was that the Sorting Hat was really dirty. At least he assumed it was the Sorting Hat. It had been placed on a stool at the front of the Hall, and all of the older kids were staring at it. It looked old. If it had really belonged to one of the Founders of Hogwarts, it had to have been at least a thousand years old by now.
When it started to sing, his suspicions were confirmed.
The students politely clapped when the Hat’s song was over, but immediately quietened when the scary professor whose name Buster couldn’t remember made her way to the front of the room, pulled out a scroll, and began reading out names.
Buster was frozen, too scared to process anything that was happening. With the way he was reacting to everything today, there was no way he'd get into Gryffindor. Bye Michael and Lindsay. The other kids had seemed so sure of where they’d end up, and he really envied them. He was terrified.
He was so terrified that he didn't even notice the first three times the professor called out “Bluth, Byron”. To be fair to him, no one called him Byron.
He did everything in his power not to trip on his way to the Hat, and used every ounce of strength he had to stop his hands from shaking when the Hat was placed on his head.

“Oh, well, another Bluth,” the Hat whispered in his head. He hadn't known it could do that. “How many of you are there?”
Buster didn't know how to respond. He didn't know if he could respond.
“Just think,” the Hat assured him. “I'll know what you want to say.”
“That's horrifying,” Buster thought.
The Hat laughed, an ancient, mirthless sound. “To you, I suppose. You're the youngest, hm? Interesting, very interesting...you're very intelligent. Yes, extremely...you enjoy learning new things?”
Buster nodded in confirmation.
“Yes...yes, that does point towards Ravenclaw…”
Just like Gob thought. He'd be away from his whole family.
“But then again, you're very loyal...You have a good heart, I can see. Kind. Hard working. Fair. And certainly not as independent as your typical Ravenclaw...yes, I think you'd be better suited for...HUFFLEPUFF!”

The Hat shouted out his new house and Buster felt more relieved than he ever had before.
He wasn't sure where to go. He just followed the sound of Gob yelling excitedly and the next thing he knew he'd been engulfed in a hug by his older brother, still screaming.
“I'm so proud of you! Oh my god, I've never been this excited in my entire life!”
“Jesus, Gob, you’re gonna choke the kid,” said a voice Buster didn't recognise.
Gob reluctantly let go, but kept his arm around Buster's shoulder.
The dark-haired boy sitting next to Gob, who Buster quickly deduced was the source of the voice, held out his hand. He was wearing a shiny pin on his robes. “I’m Gob's friend, Tony. Good to finally meet you.”
Buster shook his hand, still too shocked to actually say anything. A girl sitting next to Tony smiled at him.
“EVE HOLT!” she yelled, having to raise her voice to be heard over the sound of the Gryffindors celebrating their newest recruit. “I'm the other friend.”
“Hi,” he managed to choke out.
He looked over towards the Gryffindor table, trying to figure out what everyone was screaming about, and spotted Michael and Lindsay staring at him.
Michael gave him a thumbs up. Lindsay waved and mouthed “Good job!”. They were both smiling.

Maybe Hogwarts wouldn't be so scary after all.

Chapter Text

“The history of Hufflepuff house is a long and proud one,” Gob began as he led his little brother to the common room they would now share. “At least, I think it is, I don’t actually know any of it. Tony probably does, he’s a total nerd.”
Speaking of Tony, he’d snuck off about five minutes before to usher most of the Hufflepuff first years to the common room. Technically, Buster should be with him, but Tony owed Gob a favour. He could almost see his friend, towering over the first years he was attempting to corral. It was the first time Gob had seen him be the tallest person in a group.

Buster wasn’t talking much. He was mainly just nodding at whatever Gob said. Buster wasn’t usually a talkative kid, but it was still kind of worrying.
“Are you excited? Or scared? Or feeling...like...anything at all?”
Buster just shrugged.
“Okay...what do you think about being a Hufflepuff?”
Buster actually smiled a little bit. A nervous smile, but still a smile. “I don’t know, I guess...I’m kinda nervous…” Of course he was, Gob thought, he was Buster. “But I think I like it. I know Mom and Dad wanted me to be a Slytherin, but…”
“You’re about the furthest thing from a Slytherin I’ve ever seen, buddy.”
“I knew I wouldn’t be one,” Buster replied. “But Mommy would have liked it.”

Gob had wanted to be a Slytherin too, once upon a time. His parents were so confident that they’d raised four perfectly clever, cunning, ambitious kids. He’d never really doubted that they were right. Not until that goddamn Hat was placed on his head and took all of ten seconds to put him in Hufflepuff.
The first term had been tough. On top of the Howlers from his mother and the complete radio silence from his father, classes were hard. Gossip spread. The oldest son of a legendary Slytherin pureblood family was a Hufflepuff. How did that happen? What a legendary fuckup that poor kid must be.
But he’d grown to love it. Not the gossip or the whole my-family-hates-me thing, but Hufflepuff itself. People were nice. The common room was really cozy (and it was right next to the kitchens, which was helpful for his work with Gobias Industries). He’d found his best friends almost immediately (you had to specify best friends in Hufflepuff because everyone was at least friendly). It was a good house. He was surprised to find that he really fit there. He’d never really felt like he fit in anywhere before.
And now, Buster was there too, and none of his little siblings were Slytherin. So at least he didn’t stick out as much anymore.

Before long, they’d reached the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room. Gob had always thought that it was a pretty cool entrance compared to the other houses. He’d easily been able to sneak into every other house’s common room (it usually took the combined brain power of himself, Eve, and Tony to get past the Ravenclaw eagle, but the others were a cinch), and not once in a thousand years had any outsiders gotten into Hufflepuff’s.
He and Buster watched as Tony demonstrated to the group of enthralled and terrified first years how to get into the common room. Tap the barrel two from the bottom in the middle of the second row to the rhythm of Helga Hufflepuff’s name, and then climb down the tunnel. Easy as pie. What a weird expression. Is pie easy to make?
Tony ushered the first years down the tunnel one by one. The older kids hung back, watching and reminiscing, and, in Eve Holt’s case, preparing to jump on her friend’s back and give him a fucking heart attack.
“Jesus Christ, Eve! What are you doing?”
“Hey, Gob. Can’t believe you abandoned me for this pipsqueak.”
“Get off me!”
“Nope. Not until you apologise.”
“I’m sorry! Now, get off!”
Eve, always true to her word, sunk back to the ground, repositioning herself beside Gob.
“Hi, Buster,” she offered.
Buster, his eyes focussed on the children rapidly disappearing down a tunnel and looking more afraid than Gob had ever seen him, only whimpered in response.

Sighing, Gob lowered himself down so that he was on his little brother’s level. “Listen, Buster,” he said in his I’m-your-older-brother-so-do-what-I-say-or-I’ll-kick-your-ass voice. “I can’t help you out there.You have to do this on your own.”
“But I’m sca-”
“Scared isn’t an excuse, stupid. Everyone’s scared. Eve, are you scared?”
Eve nodded. “Always.”
“See? But you do it anyway, okay? God, I sound like a Gryffindor. Ugh, whatever, look, just stop being a pussy and do it.”
Buster nodded, took another deep breath, and began to walk towards the barrels.

Gob straightened up and watched his little brother tap the required barrel. “They grow up so fast.”
“That was kind of a harsh pep talk,” Eve said.
Gob shrugged. “He’s been coddled his whole life, he needs some tough love if he’s gonna do anything.”
“Okay,” Eve replied. “You know him better than I do.” She turned to join the crowd of people waiting to enter the common room. The entrance only allowed one person at a time. Sometimes it took hours for everyone to get back in. It was just one of the many things that made the first night of school suck.
The only thing that didn’t suck about it, at least to Gob, was seeing his friends again. He’d spent three months with only his family, who had started to get better over the years but still weren’t what you might call “happy”. They still pretty much hated him, but they’d learned to hide it better.
Eve and Tony didn’t have great home lives either, so for the first time in his life he’d found people who understood him on some level. It was pretty awesome.
The three of them were a good team. Tony was the brains, Eve was the heart, Gob was...there. They loved each other.
Gob dreaded what would happen next year, when there wouldn’t be a Tony or an Eve or even a Hogwarts to come back to.

The first sight Gob was greeted with when he finally got into the common room he’d missed so much was his small bespectacled brother whirling around the middle of the room, in awe of his surroundings.
He caught sight of Gob and stopped spinning. “This place is off the hook!” he yelled.
“It’s pretty awesome, right?”
“Yeah! It’s like a hobbit hole!”
Eve gasped. “It totally is! I’ve been wondering what it reminded me of since, like, first year!”
“God, you’re both such nerds,” Gob said. He turned away from Eve and Buster’s nerd-fest to walk towards the corner (could circular rooms have corners?) of the common room to say hi to his bees.
He’d bought the bees in fourth year. In Hogsmeade. Possibly in the Three Broomsticks, and possibly with something in his system that was a little stronger and more...well, more vaporous and plant-based than Butterbeer. It had made sense at the time. He liked honey. Bees make honey. That creepy guy over there had been selling a whole hive of bees. So, buy the bees. Make honey. Eat honey.
It hadn’t worked out exactly like that. The bees had been a little more aggressive than advertised, so now they resided in the corner of the common room with every protective charm under the sun separating them from the students. All of the students, that is, except Gob and his friends. They’d learned how to tame the bees pretty well by now. They’d even learned how to make honey. All in all, it had turned out pretty good in the end.

Life did that sometimes. It would throw you a totally shitty situation, like insane bees or a family who hated you or a brother killed by Death Eaters or fundamentalist Christian Muggle parents who thought that you being a witch was an abomination. But then it threw you something better, something that helped. Sometimes that was an enchanted beekeeper suit. Sometimes it was just a few friends.

Either way, sometimes things ended up being better than you thought they would be.

Chapter Text

If Michael and Lindsay had had any say in the matter, they wouldn’t be waking up at 3 in the morning on their second day of term.
But they didn’t have a say. Their head of house had barged into their respective dorms, waking up everyone in them, and told the two of them to report to the headmistress’s office immediately.
The two rushed towards the office, complaining all the way. They’d been called to these early morning family meetings before, usually because Buster had gotten sick and their mom had overreacted and thought he was dying. It was never anything serious.
They stepped into Professor Cunningham’s office to find Gob and Buster already there with Hufflepuff’s head of house, all three of them looking like newly resurrected zombies. Michael still couldn’t believe Buster was a Hufflepuff. It was weird enough having one Hufflepuff brother, and now he had two.
Professor Cunningham gestured for the kids to sit down. She’d arranged four chairs in front of her desk. The kids sat.

The headmistress cleared her throat. “I’m aware this is an inconvenience for you. And I know that you older ones have experienced plenty of these midnight meetings that amounted to nothing. But I promise you, this one is important.”
Michael began to feel an encroaching sense of dread.
“Is mom okay?” Buster asked. For some reason the question made Michael’s stomach start to knot.
“Your mother is fine, Byron.”
“Buster.”
“I’m sorry?”
“My name’s Buster.”
“Right. I’m sorry. Buster. Yes, your mother is...your mother is in perfect health. But...this will be difficult for you to hear. I know it may not seem that way at first, you may be shocked, you may be unbelieving. I don’t know. People react differently to different things.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, I’m...well, honestly I’m trying to put this off. I hate giving bad news. Children, I’m afraid your father has been arrested.”

There was silence. Michael thought he might throw up. The room started to spin.
He saw Lindsay in his peripheral vision, staring at Professor Cunningham, completely still, until she reached out to grab his hand.
The world started to steady again, anchored by his sister’s hand on his.

Gob was the first to speak. His words encapsulated everyone’s feelings.
“Shit, no way.”
Buster looked like he was about to cry. He stared up at the professor. “What did he do?”
The world slowed down again. He hadn’t even thought to ask. He had no idea what the answer could be. He was scared to find out.
Lindsay squeezed his hand and he squeezed hers back.

“Your father has been accused of misusing government funds. You will no longer have access to the Gringotts accounts in your family’s name.”
Gob and Lindsay gasped.
Michael felt a strange sense of relief. “That’s not so bad.”

Professor Cunningham looked at him, her eyes full of condescending pity. “I’m afraid that’s not all. Your father is also under suspicion of being in business with known Death Eaters, both during and since the war.”

The world took off again and not even Lindsay could make it stop. He was vaguely aware of her next to him, dumbfounded, and Buster next to her, finally starting to cry, Gob attempting to comfort him.

“What’s gonna happen to him? Is he in Azkaban?” Gob asked.
“He’s currently in government custody. The investigation is still ongoing.”
Something about Gob’s voice was really irritating Michael, more than it usually did. He seemed so...flippant, unconcerned. It was as if he didn’t even care that their Dad had been arrested.

“Will you four be alright? Is there anything we can do for you?” the headmistress asked. “I’ve had many other students go through the same thing, and I must say you’re all handling it very well.”
Michael didn't think he was handling it well. He thought he was about to throw up.

“We’ll be fine,” Gob told the professor. “I think they’re just a little shocked.”
And you’re just a little bit of a fucking psychopath who can’t muster any sort of emotion at the thought of your dad going to fucking Azkaban.

The kids were told to go back to bed. Their paths back to their respective common rooms were the same for some part of the journey back to bed.
Lindsay had taken over the duty of comforting Buster. She seemingly had an unlimited number of handkerchiefs in her pockets, all embroidered with the name of her house elf rights charity. She’d planned to sell them. Obviously, they hadn’t been very popular.

Again, Gob was the first of them to say anything.
“I should have known.”
When the others stared at him, he expanded on his point.
“He was never home during the war. Always said he was working long hours, making sure the Ministry wasn’t taken over. You probably don’t remember, Busty. And he always hated Eve. I mean, he hated Tony too, he hated everything that reminded him of me, but he really hated that I had a muggleborn friend.”
“If you’re suggesting that they’re right, and he’s...some sort of…”
“You think they’re not? Geez, Michael, you’re supposed to be the realistic one.”
“Just because you hate Dad doesn’t mean he’s a fucking Death Eater!”
“Never said he was! He probably is, but maybe he’s just a sympathiser.”
“Okay, this is our stop, come on Mikey,” Lindsay, ever the peacemaker, interrupted her brothers' burgeoning argument. She grabbed Buster by the shoulders and manoeuvred him towards Gob, who immediately put his arm around him. “Good night, or morning, or whatever. Let’s go!”
She grabbed Michael’s hand and led him back to the common room. He was too tired to say anything to her.
He lay in bed. He didn’t sleep.

The next morning, Lindsay was pacing around the Gryffindor common room. She hadn’t been able to sleep much last night. Her father’s arrest was simply the cherry on top of a stressful night back at Hogwarts.
First of all, she hadn’t been made Quidditch captain. She was fine with that. Their current captain was in seventh year, so Lindsay would definitely be captain next year. She was little annoyed that she still had to try out despite scoring last year’s winning goal at the cup, but it didn’t concern her. What she was really concerned with was Slytherin’s captain.

Sally Sitwell.

Sally had been Lindsay’s nemesis since first year. They’d had their very first flying lesson together and spent the whole time trying to outdo each other.
By second year, they were both Chasers on their respective Quidditch teams and hated each other’s guts.
Sally wasn’t even that good. She’d only gotten on the team because her precious daddy bought them all expensive brooms.
Speaking of which, rumour had it that Sally Sitwell had been gifted a fucking Nimbus over the break. Lindsay rode a Silver Arrow, which was a great broom, but it would look like a total joke next to a Nimbus. And now she couldn’t even use her dad’s money to buy a new one!

The day’s classes were awful. They were awful every day, but today especially. Her teachers spent all day droning on about how important their Owls were and how they needed to do the best they could and work really hard and blah blah blah.
The one good thing about her day was her Divination class. She hated Divination, but it was an easy class, and she had it with Tracey Lowell.
Tracey was Lindsay’s best friend (and, aside from Michael and the Quidditch team, her only friend). She was a Ravenclaw, a redhead, smart and dorky and a little quirky and, most importantly, she also hated Sally Sitwell.

So that was the highlight of her day, making up bullshit predictions with Tracey. But when she attempted to tell Michael her concerns, she was reminded of how selfish her brother could be.

”This is what’s bothering you? Seriously? Lindsay, Dad got arrested, and you’re worried about Quidditch?”
“Quidditch is important to me! And I am well aware Dad got arrested, thank you very much. That’s the reason I’m so worried about Quidditch, he can’t buy me a new broom!”
Michael rolled his eyes and went back to working on their Potions essays. He’d spent so many years finishing her homework that at this point he just did the whole thing.

After a few minutes, the quill scratching stopped and Michael sighed.
“You think we should go check on Buster? This whole thing is probably taking a toll on him.”
Lindsay thought for a second, before agreeing. But on one condition.
“The Hufflepuff common room is near the kitchen, right?”

They soon discovered that yes, the Hufflepuff common room was near the kitchen. This was confirmed by the sight of a tall boy in black and yellow robes climbing out of the kitchen entrance with multiple boxes in his arms and even more levitating around him.
“Gob?” Michael exclaimed.
Gob immediately dropped the boxes at the sound of his name. He looked towards them, staring at them like a Dementor faced with a Patronus charm.
“Michael! Lindsay! Hey, guys, how are...things…” Gob greeted them shrilly.
“Things are good,” Lindsay replied. “What’s in the boxes?”
Gob’s eyes darted between his sister and the abandoned boxes.
“He’s stealing food,” Michael said accusingly. “Of course he is. This is the kind of “fair play” Hufflepuffs are always preaching about, huh? All that “honesty” and “kindness”, I knew it was all a front!”
Gob rolled his eyes as Michael continued. “You know what, Gob, the fact is that you’re not just stealing, you’re lying, and honestly, I think that’s worse.”
“Okay, Dad,” Gob said sarcastically. He had been more focused on picking up his boxes, casting levitation charms on the ones too heavy to carry, than listening to his brother.
“Hey, in case you didn’t notice, you selfish dickwad, Dad’s in jail. So, maybe someone does need to act like that around here. You know, maybe...maybe someone needs to-to lay down the law. Lindsay, you don’t think he should be doing this, right?”
Lindsay shrugged. She had been planning to do the same thing if she managed to figure out how to get into the kitchens.

Michael decided the best way to get his sister on his side was to try and appeal to her sympathies. Or at least, the sympathies she claimed to have.
“What about the house elves?” he asked, gesturing towards the large badge on her robes bearing the words “S.P.E.W: Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare”. “They do all that work, just for some arrogant little dickhead of a wizard to steal it.”
Lindsay stared at her badge, then whipped around to face her oldest brother. “He's right! How dare you? Not only are you actively contributing to the enslavement of an entire species, you are exploiting them, disrespecting the work that they aren’t being paid to do! You disgust me.”
“Okay,” Gob said, glancing over the twins’ heads. He waved to someone behind them, gesturing to the left, attempting to communicate something to whoever it was.

Lindsay turned to see a boy with dark hair and glasses in Ravenclaw robes walking towards them, a confused and slightly alarmed expression on his face. He stopped a few feet from Michael and Lindsay.
“Hello,” he greeted them nervously. “What’s happening?” This was directed towards Gob.
“We’ve been compromised.”
“Any authority figures?”
“No, just these two. Michael thinks he’s an authority figure, but he’s not.”
“Oh, well I guess we’re alright then.”

Michael stared between his brother and the new guy, wand in hand. He didn’t know why he’d drawn it in the first place. “What’s going on?”
“Well, first of all,” Gob began. “This is Tobias.”
Tobias raised his hand. “Hello. I’m sixth year. Ravenclaw.” He looked at Michael. “Nice wand.”
“Shut up, Tobias.”
“Sorry.”
Gob took a deep breath. “This is...well, it’s kinda like...it’s a...Tobias, help me out here.”
“An underground food smuggling ring.”
“Yes, that, thank you, Tobias, it’s an underground food smuggling ring. I take the food from the kitchens, Tobias and his group of Ravenclaws distribute it to kids around the school.”

That might have actually been a good idea for a business, although Michael would never admit that to Gob. But he still had a lot of questions. Lindsay, predictably, asked the least interesting one.
“How does this affect the house elves?”
Gob shrugged. “It doesn’t. They love making food. And when you tell them it’s going to kids who need it, it makes them feel good.”
“But it’s not going to kids who need it,” Michael interjected. “It’s going to kids who have a literal banquet every meal of the day.”
“Well, Michael, if you had let me continue you would have heard me say that Tobias here actually distributes it to students who are unable to make it to regular meal times. We at Gobias Industries believe that children deserve to eat no matter what their class schedule, and that if the Head Boy and his friends want to eat popcorn every night before bed they should have access to that popcorn.”
“I...don't know what that last part means,” Tobias muttered.
Michael still had questions, but he decided he didn’t really want them answered. He kind of just wanted to go to bed. He’d almost forgotten why they came here in the first place.
“You’ll get in so much trouble if you get caught.”
“Yup.”
Michael sighed. He’d given up on this particular brother long ago. “Do not bring Buster into this.”
Gob actually had the nerve to look outraged. “Why the fuck would I do that? What kind of a brother do you think I am?”
The question hung in the air like a box filled with pilfered food.

“C’mon, Linds,” Michael said quietly, turning on heels to walk back towards the Gryffindor common room.
Lindsay stood for a little while longer, watching as Gob put down all but one of his boxes. It was the smallest, marked with the words “Popcorn for G+T+E”. He started muttering to Tobias, who began to cast levitation and invisibility charms on the remaining boxes.

“Tell Buster I said hi.”
Gob looked up at his sister, smiling. It wasn’t a happy smile. “I will.”
She turned to follow Michael.

Chapter Text

In his first week at Hogwarts, Buster had found most of his classes easy. After all, he’d already read most of his textbooks, having stolen them from his older siblings as soon as they got home from school.
He’d brewed a simple potion quicker than the rest of his class after reading Michael’s notes on it. Lindsay’s charms textbook had a great explanation of the theories relevant to Levitation charms. He’d already practically memorised Gob’s old History of Magic books. He was good at school, and he liked it.
Everything was pretty great.
Except he missed his mother.
And he couldn’t really talk to the other kids that well.
And his first Flying lesson proved to be the worst hour of his entire life.

The whole lesson could be summed up in two words: totally miserable. He was the last one in the class to get his broom off the ground. After finally getting it to float, he fell off almost immediately. Almost every other kid in the class laughed, and even the professor looked like she was stifling a giggle.
Everyone, that is, except the only other Hufflepuff in the class, a girl his age who always had different hair or a different nose or different eyes every time he saw her. He guessed she was probably a Metamorphmagus, but it seemed rude to ask. She helped him up and offered to beat up the mean kids for him, an offer which he graciously declined.
He sat out the rest of the lesson, content to watch others fly while he stayed on the ground, nice and safe.
The Girl Of A Hundred Faces, as he’d begun to call her in his head, was a natural. So were some of the kids who had laughed at him, but he tried not to think about them too much.

As the first years began to leave the pitch to go back to their dorms before dinner, a group of older kids started to file in. All of them were wearing Gryffindor robes.
Buster took off his glasses and wiped them on his robes. He always got dust and dirt on them when he went outside. That was part of the reason he didn’t go outside much.
As he cleaned his glasses, he thought he could see a red, gold and yellow shape streaking towards him.

Oh, yeah, it was definitely coming this way.

The blur wrapped its arms around him, blocking his attempts to put his glasses back on.
“Busty! Did you come to watch my tryouts?” the shape said, using his sister’s voice.
Buster finally managed to replace his glasses and the blur sharpened into Lindsay wearing her Quidditch robes. She straightened up and began pulling back her hair, her gloved hands moving impossibly fast.
“Sure. Yes, yeah, I-I definitely came to watch you,” Buster said, attempting to sound as sincere as possible.
“Aww, that’s so sweet. You’re in for a treat, kiddo. Well, I gotta get out there. For right now, you’re my favourite brother!”

Lindsay jogged off towards the rest of the prospective Quidditch players and Buster revelled in the thought of being someone’s favourite brother. Lindsay had always been really proud of her team. She’d even tried to persuade Buster and their parents to come and watch her play in the finals last year, but their mom had refused. She thought Quidditch was undignified, and she did not want to be associated with it.
Buster, of course, had agreed with her. He always hated sports. They were fast-paced and sweaty, and they made him tired. One time he’d attempted to play soccer with some Muggle kids from a nearby school, and he’d gotten his glasses broken and a stern talking-to from his father about associating with non-wizards. Today’s flying lesson had only solidified his feelings about non-academic pursuits.

But watching his sister soar around the pitch, he could almost understand why she loved it. She weaved through the goalposts with ease, chasing the Quaffle and dodging around other girls with more grace than he’d ever seen her use on the ground. He was half-convinced she’d drop out of the sky at any moment, but it looked like the thought may not have even occurred to her.
As she scored goal after goal, more and more people cheering with each one, he couldn’t help but marvel at how cool his siblings were.

Later, as Buster walked into the common room, the memory of face-planting in front of thirty of his classmates replaced with the picture of his sister being awesome, a boy he recognised as one of the other kids in his dorm started walking towards him, an envelope in his outstretched hand. Buster had no idea what his name was. Gosh, how could he live with someone and not know their name?
“Hi,” the boy - was it Zach? Maybe David? - said. “This is for you. I was up in the Owlery and I saw it come in so I thought I’d bring it in for you”
“Thank you,” Buster replied. He’d never been good at socialising with people his own age.
The two boys stood staring at each other, neither one good enough at social interaction to continue the conversation.
Finally, Zach/David spoke. “You’re welcome. I have to go.”
While Zach/David scurried off back to the other side of the common room, Buster examined the envelope. He already had suspicions about who had sent it, and his suspicions were confirmed as soon as he saw the loopy, neat cursive handwriting spelling out ‘Buster Bluth, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry’ on the envelope.
He hadn’t been expecting a real letter this early. Gob said that, aside from the Howlers, his first real letter from their mom had come almost two months into his first term.
Buster sank into the nearest chair and ripped open the letter.

Dear Byron,
Mommy misses you very much. It’s become lonely here without you and your father, although your Uncle Oscar has been keeping me company.
I hope your brother isn’t filling your head with some nonsense about your father because he is completely innocent. He’s not exactly a mastermind. If he was in contact with some unsavoury people, it was completely by accident.
We were all surprised to hear you didn’t end up in Ravenclaw. Not that we’re disappointed in your House, obviously. You’re a perfectly nice boy. It was a surprise. I mean, who would have guessed a woman like me would have one Hufflepuff son, let alone two?
I know the house elves there won’t be preparing your food the way you like it at home, but don’t worry. You’ll be able to come home and see me again very soon.
Lots of love,
Mother

Buster sighed. He had expected his mother to write a little bit more. And she was not doing a very good job of hiding her dislike of Hufflepuff house.
She’d signed it. Not just with the word ‘Mother’ or even her name, an actual honest-to-god signature. Only his mother could write a letter so intimate yet so formal.

Before Buster could reread the letter, Gob threw himself down in the seat across from him.
“Hey, brother.”
“Hey, Baby Buster. First letter from home?”
Buster nodded.
“What did she say?”
“She’s lonely. She misses me. She knows Dad’s innocent. She says she’s not disappointed, but…”
“But it’s pretty clear she is, yeah. Been there, buddy.”

Gob regretted asking about the letter. His family were the last thing he wanted to think about right now, you know, what with his dad being a Death Eater and all.
He wanted to be there for Buster, but...he also wanted to go up to his dorm and pull the covers over his face and wallow in self-pity. It was a tough choice.

He chose self-pity.

“You feeling okay?” he asked, hoping that his brother’s answer would clear his conscience enough so that he could leave.
“Yeah, I think so. I just feel bad that she’s alone.”
“She’s totally alone?”
“Well...she says Uncle Oscar’s there…”
“So she’s not alone.”
“I guess not.”
“So it’s all fine.”
“I guess so.”

Gob guessed so too. He got up and clapped his brother on the shoulder. “Good talk. See ya later.”

Gob finally walked up the stairs to his dorm, his conscience sufficiently clear.
He opened the door, praying to whatever magical deity there was that the room would be empty.

It wasn’t, but that didn’t really matter, because the other person in the dorm was Tony.
Tony was lying on his bed, inspecting the Gobstones Eve had given him for his last birthday.

Gob flopped onto his bed dramatically, while Tony continued to stare at his Gobstones.
Gob cleared his throat. Tony didn’t say anything.
He made an exaggerated moaning noise. No reaction.
The moaning escalated into a groan, and then a yell, and then a scream before Tony finally acknowledged him.

“What are you doing?”
“Getting your attention.”
“You could’ve just said ‘Hey, Tony, give me attention!’ Might have been easier on your vocal cords.”
“Whatever, it worked.”
Tony laughed and put his Gobstones on the table beside his bed. “What’s up?”
“I hate my family,” Gob said into his pillow.
“Same.”
“You hate your family too?”
“Well, yeah, a little, but I also hate your family.”
“That’s fair.”

Gob rolled over so that he was facing his friend. Tony was looking at him with his ‘Concerned Friend’ face.
“Wanna talk about it?” he asked.
“No,” Gob lied.
Tony sighed. “Alright, well, if you ever do, I’m right here.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Before he knew it, Gob was spilling out all of the feelings he didn’t really know he had about his family’s current circumstances.
“It’s like, I knew there was something up with him, I knew it, but no one believes I knew it, you know, and they all think I’m just...I’m just, like, projecting this shit onto him because I hate him or something and I just...the big thing is that I don’t think I feel bad about it, like about him being arrested, ya know? I don’t know how I feel about it. You should have seen the others, Tony, they were so upset. Buster was crying, Michael looked like he was about to have a panic attack. I think Lindsay might have been having an out of body experience, okay, they were seriously fucked up about it, but I...don’t know. And I feel really bad that I don't feel bad. I should be upset, right? He’s my dad! And I want to be sad, because I’m supposed to be sad, and-and I-I-I so-so-so should-sho-should I be- should I...should…”

Gob was really bad at talking about his feelings. And at recognising his feelings. And at having feeling. He had way too many feelings.

Tony, who was now sitting on the foot of his bed, considered his friend’s words for a second. “That sucks.”
“Yeah.”
Gob paused for a few seconds.
“Michael thinks I hate him.”
“Do you?”

Gob didn’t answer. He certainly didn’t have a great relationship with his father. Or a good one. Or any relationship at all, really. His father had never really been negative or positive towards him. His mother had been critical and mean, but his father had just kind of...been there. Observing. Not really doing anything. Other than obviously favouring Michael, that is.
Merlin, maybe he did hate his father.

Tony looked away from him, redirecting his gaze towards the ceiling. He was so good to talk to. He always knew what to say. Sometimes. And when he didn’t know what to say, he didn’t say anything, which was just as good. He’d just smile at Gob and suggest that they sneak into the kitchens or to the Room of Requirement and just hang out. And usually drink.
Gob really liked seeing him smile.
Because it meant they were about to do something awesome. Obviously. It wasn’t, like, anything weird or anything. That would be super weird. So weird. Weird.

Tony turned back to look at him, with that smile on his face. Gob’s chest fluttered a little.
Because of the anticipation of the Room of Requirement and the Firewhisky and stuff. Obviously.

“Wanna go to the Room? We’ll pick up Evie on the way, maybe it’ll make you feel better.”

And Gob wanted to. Of course he did. He always wanted to be hanging out with Tony and Eve. If he could he’d hang out with Tony for the rest of his life. He’d make a fucking career out of it.
And with Eve. Her too.
But the weird feeling in his chest had started picking up when Tony had suggested going to the Room of Requirement. He was pretty sure his heart rate had sped up.
It didn’t do that when Eve suggested hanging out. And he’d dated Eve.

Fuck. What the fuck? Fuck. Motherfucking shit.
This was not good, not fucking good, in fact, it was fucking bad.
He was not supposed to be feeling feelings. Of course, he’d always felt something towards Tony, obviously, but it was friendship! They were friends! Friends stay up late talking. Friends stare at each other from across the room. Friends hold hands, they console each other, their hearts skip a beat when they look at each other.
Right?

No, not right, because fuck, he doesn’t do any of that stuff with Eve. He loves Eve, more than he loves certain relatives, but...he doesn’t feel the same way about her as he does with Tony.

Fuck. Fuck this is not good. So not good. Very, very not good.

“Gob?” Tony’s voice snapped him out of his panicked thoughts.
“Huh?” Real smooth, Gob. Nice one.
“You okay? You’ve been staring into space for, like, a minute and a half.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine I just…” Was thinking about how I might have slightly gay not-friendship feelings for you. “Had a...seizure.” What?!
“What?”
“Uhhh…” Oh, Gob, Tony looked worried. Gob desperately tried to remember what that epileptic kid who used to live next door to them had said about his staring-into-space seizures. “Umm...abdominal...seizure. Happens to all of us eventually. I just need some fresh air, I’m gonna...go...bye.”

And on that idiotic note, he raced out of the dorm room. The panic was really starting to set in now because Merlin Emrys, what the fuck was he feeling? He couldn’t be...no, he liked girls. He definitely liked girls. Plenty of girls. Girls like…
Eve! Eve was a girl! He liked Eve!
Eve was gay, but still!
And Sally Sitwell, she was pretty. He was lucky Linds wasn’t a Legilimens, she’d kill him for saying that.

As he sped out of the common room, he spotted Buster out of the corner of his eye, inspecting the beehives sadly with mom’s letter still clutched in his hand. For a second Gob thought he should probably try to comfort his little brother, but the need to get away from this whole Tony situation was a lot stronger than any brotherly instinct he might be feeling.

Sorry, Busty.

Gob finally came to a halt somewhere a few hundred feet away from the common room entrance. Leaning against a wall to catch his breath, he found his thoughts wandering back to Tony again.

Tony. His best friend. His favourite person in the whole world.
Smart, funny, kind, loyal. Well, all of them were supposed to be kind and loyal, they were Hufflepuffs. But Tony was like, the ultimate Hufflepuff. There was a reason he made Head Boy. All three of them got into plenty of trouble, but Tony was...well, he was pure goodness.

Gob’s thoughts started to move towards even more concerning places (Tony was pretty good-looking, in a totally not gay way) even as his attention was drawn to the sounds around him.
The castle was old, super old, so it made noises a lot. It was often impossible to tell whether a strange noise was just the creaking walls or a person. He and his friends had explored the castle enough to know that it was a very weird place.

The creaking got louder as Gob got closer. He zeroed in on where it was coming from and slowly started creeping towards it, his mind racing. He was convinced he was about to find the Fat Friar, or some lost first year, or a werewolf, a ghost-werewolf-first year…

Coming face to face with Michael was a surprise.

Gob stopped, unsure what to say or do. Michael, who was pacing the corridor and muttering under his breath, hadn’t noticed him yet.

“Hey.”

Michael jumped, drawing his wand and flailing it around wildly before realising who his would-be-attacker was.
“Oh, it’s you. Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“...so what’re you doing?”
“Just walking around.” Michael cleared his throat. He seemed to be trying to look anywhere except up at his brother. “What about you? Isn’t this a little out of the way for you?”
“What? Michael, we’re like 500 yards away from my dorm.”

Michael looked around, actually surveying his surroundings for the first time.
“Oh. Right. Well...so, how’s Buster?”
“Oh, he’s okay,” said Gob, trying not to think about the sad state he’d left their little brother in. “Got a letter from Mom, so he’s a little homesick, but he’s coping.”
Michael frowned slightly. “What did she say?”
“Typical Mom stuff. How dare you leave me alone, Uncle Oscar is here, Dad’s innocent, yadda yadda yadda.”
“Dad is innocent.”
“Sure, Mikey.”
“No, he is! He has to be! Dad couldn’t...he wouldn’t do...he didn’t do it.”
Gob put his hands up and backed away slowly. “Okay, jeez, chill. Tell it the Wizengamot, man.”

A figurative light bulb flickered on top of Michael’s head. “That’s it! Gob, you’re a genius!”
“...what?”
“I’ll go to the Wizengamot! Not like right now, obviously, but I’ll-I’ll find evidence that exonerates Dad and I’ll take it to the Wizengamot and I’ll clear his name.”
“Oh. Cool. How?”
Michael had resumed his pacing, but now there was a slight spring in every step. “I don’t know! Somehow! I’ll figure it out. I can help him! I can save my family!”

Typical Michael. “Our family.”
“Right, our family….” He stared at Gob, grinning apprehensively. “Do you wanna help me?”
“Oh my god,” Gob giggled. “No. No way. Oh my god, I can’t believe you just asked that. No way.”
“Of course not. Oh well, Lindsay can help! This is gonna be awesome!” Michael turned on his heel, sprinting back down the corridor. “Thanks Gob!”

Gob was left in the hallway, alone, confused, and fairly sure his brother was about to do something illegal.

But that was Michael’s problem. Gob had his own problems, and they were a lot more important.