Work Text:
The hat hadn’t even touched his head before it declared: “Ravenclaw!”
William thought thank you politely at the hat as he hopped down off the stool. It tipped him a wink as the next name was called.
He was the first new student in his year. Being at the head of the alphabet was a relief in that he didn’t have to wait and worry any longer, but it meant that he was now completely alone at a House table – his House, now – rather than sitting with the rest of the new unsorted first-years.
He perked up when someone else was Sorted into Ravenclaw, but the girl in question turned out to be someone else’s younger sister, so she knew all of the third-years and went to sit with them instead. William swung his legs under the bench and looked down at the pattern on the tablecloth until someone else came and sat down beside him.
It was a boy, he saw when he looked up, one of the ones William had noticed in his car on the train. He hadn’t said anything then, too shy to start a conversation and terrified of stuttering. He didn’t know what to say now, either.
The boy said, “Hullo, I’m Andrew. I guess this means we’re roommates.”
That broke the dam of anxiousness inside him, and William answered eagerly. “I’m William. Or Bill. I’m from London, where are you from?”
“Brighton,” Andrew answered. “We just moved. Before that we lived in California.”
California was very far away, but William knew all about it. He’d memorized all the countries of the world and the states and provinces of North America when he was nine. “Are you a Muggleborn?” he asked curiously. “Is that why you moved? It’s all right if you are, I’m very pro-Muggle. Did you know they can track falling stars now and predict where they will land? Even the best Astronomist witches and wizards can’t do that yet.”
Andrew smiled lopsidedly and said, “You know not all people in California are Muggles, right?”
“Of course I know that,” William answered promptly, even though he hadn’t. He’d thought Muggles were people who weren’t witches or wizards, and witches and wizards lived in Britain under the protection and responsibility of the Ministry of Magic.
“Do you know which classes you’re taking and everything?” Andrew asked. “I heard we get to pick electives in third-year.”
“Ancient Runes and Arithmancy,” William said promptly. “I would take Muggle Studies, but I can learn most of that by reading their books. The library here is supposed to have quite a large collection.”
“I’m taking Care of Magical Creatures,” Andrew told him. “I haven’t decided about the other one yet.”
William was intrigued. “I didn’t know any Ravenclaws took that class,” he said. “What if you’re all alone?”
“That’s why I want to take it,” Andrew said, grinning. “I want to get a NEWT in it. I want to be different.”
William had to admit that was an excellent plan. Nothing furthered your educational goals like standing out from the crowd. “I want to break the record for the most NEWTs in one year,” he told Andrew confidentially. He bit his lip and added, “But that’s what everyone wants, so I don’t know if I will.”
Andrew considered this for a moment. “We can plan tonight,” he said. “Work out a class schedule and study charts. That way you’ll be ready.”
William smiled at him. “I have peppermint humbugs,” he offered shyly. “My mum sent them in my luggage.”
Andrew smiled back at him. “We’re going to be awesome friends,” he declared. William couldn’t help but be inclined to agree.
“Done!” William called triumphantly, holding up both ends of his rope as proof. Andrew fumbled as he picked apart the last tangle, a few scant seconds behind him. His shoulders slumped in dismay.
“I don’t know how you do it,” he said. “Every time. That was a new record for both of us, though.”
William dutifully wrote down both of their times on their wall chart, recording the date and time and marking a little star beside his name as the victor. “Just think,” he said. “In another week we’ll be able to do two of them within a single study period.”
He glanced at the ticking grandfather clock against the wall as he said it, and then his eyes flew to meet Andrew’s, which looked just as wide.
“Go, go!” William yelled frantically when Andrew hung back to wait for him, both of them struggling to shoulder their bags and gather their books.
They smacked into the door just as the professor was sweeping it closed with his wand, squeezing through and tumbling into their seats.
“McMahon,” their resigned teacher said in greeting. “Beckett.”
“Sorry, Professor Schechter,” they chorused in unison, looking – William hoped – properly repentant and guilty.
Professor Schechter tapped his wand on the edge of the desk and sighed. The silence stretched. Eventually he rubbed his eyes and asked, “What was your time on the Gordian Knot today?”
William stole a sneaking glance at Andrew. “Forty-eight minutes and thirty-one seconds, sir,” he answered, still very contritely but with a hint of smug pride.
Their professor’s lips quirked up a little bit, William thought, but he turned away so William couldn’t properly see, bring a hand up over his mouth as he coughed. “Essays?” he prompted when he turned back to them.
They both dug hastily into their bookbags to come up with the rolls of parchment, and William thanked all the stars in the constellation Orion that he’d remembered to stuff it in there before breakfast just in case he had any last-minute thoughts about changes.
Professor Schechter added them to the stack on his desk and looked between them. William held his breath and hoped desperately that he wouldn’t lose House points or earn a detention. Detention was an entire hour when he couldn’t study. Or have Gordian Knot races with Andrew, which was much more exciting in the current scheme of things.
“That’s a very good time,” Professor Schechter said at last. “Congratulations.”
William exhaled and exchanged that was close looks with Andrew right as the professor spoke up again.
“But, boys?” Their heads immediately jerked up. William thought this time he could actually see a smile lurking at the corners of their professor’s mouth when he said, “From now on, don’t do it again during the study hall before my class until you have your times down to half an hour, all right?” He winked. “I have every confidence that you can make it.”
“Yes, Professor Schechter,” William answered obediently, only half a second out of synch with Andrew.
“Books out, please,” the professor said, addressing the class, and everyone immediately began rustling around in their bags for the text.
Andrew tossed a scrap of parchment onto William’s desk. William covered it with his hand, using his book to hide it until he could smooth it out and steal a peek.
There was a diagram of the last stage of the Gordian Knot puzzle, with an arrow, a series of loops and a question mark. William nodded slowly to himself, then looked covertly over at Andrew and grinned.
They could totally get it down to half an hour.
“Nukueler power is more renewable and easier to recycle,” William argued, quietly because the librarian could be lurking anywhere, but still emphatic.
“The core wastes, maybe,” Andrew said. “What about the tailings? What about the danger from radioactive waste?”
“Radiation exposure has been greatly minimized by modern understanding and technology,” William quoted. He was sure he’d read that somewhere. In this book, possibly. He started flipping pages to locate the argument.
“It’s still harmful to the environment,” Andrew said, not waiting for William to find his source material. “I can’t see how you would argue for anything that might lead to nukueler meltdown.”
William didn’t even fully understand what nukueler meltdown was, but he knew it was very bad, so Andrew had a point. Still. “Coal energy contributes significantly to global warming,” he countered. “And acid rain, which is the Muggle way of using a dissolving potion.”
“The Ministry of Magic says that global warming is a Muggle myth perpetuated by their confusion about weather patterns,” Andrew said, with the loyalty of one who read The Daily Prophet every morning at breakfast. “And if we use dissolving potions, they can’t be so bad, can they?”
William had to admit he was hung up on that one. Possibly the problem was more that Muggles didn’t know how to properly use dissolving potions. “Coal releases harmful…” He had to check the book again. “Toxic pollutants into the atmosphere during mining and transportation, which is when they turn it into electricitical things.” Toxic pollutants were bad, he was sure of it. Much worse than nukueler meltdown.
“I don’t think coal and electricitics are the same thing,” Andrew said dubiously. “Let me see the book.”
“You have your own book,” William returned, holding the volume closer to his chest. He didn’t want Andrew getting a look at it before he’d figured out how the radiation exposure thing factored into his argument.
“Coal is less expensive and more cost efficient,” Andrew continued triumphantly.
“At the cost of toxic pollutants,” William repeated, because that really made his case. “That has to be an Unforgiveable. Does it say anything in there about it being an Unforgiveable?”
“This says coal isn’t renewable,” Andrew said, frowning at his book. “Not like magic. What will they do when it runs out?”
“Make more,” William said, puzzled. That was what anyone did when they ran out of something.
“Um, guys?” the Hufflepuff standing next to them said tentatively, shifting his weight back and forth.
“The word nukueler is spelled differently in every single one of these books,” William said, exasperated. “How is anyone supposed to write an essay when they can’t even be sure of the spelling? These are published works. Don’t these writers have fact-checkers?”
“Coal is always spelled the same way,” Andrew said smugly. “That must mean it’s better-known. Because it’s the better choice.”
“Toxic pollutants,” William emphasized direly.
“Guys,” the Hufflepuff repeated nervously. William had forgotten his name. B-something. Possible Bramble.
“This says coal has a high carbon and sulfur content,” Andrew mused. “That sounds good. It doesn’t say whether it’s good or not, but it sounds good, right? High content?”
“Guys,” the Hufflepuff insisted, in a much louder tone of voice than ought to be used in the hallowed halls of the library. William and Andrew both stared at him in shock. He turned slightly red, but continued, “The essay is supposed to be about how Muggles get light. I don’t think the professor cares about all of that other stuff.” They kept staring, and he finished nervously, “Um. But thanks?”
He shuffled off looking skittish, presumably to write his essay without any mention of the case against toxic pollutants. William looked back at Andrew.
“We could write it,” Andrew said, voicing exactly what William was thinking. “We have enough references.”
“Neither of us are taking Muggle Studies,” William pointed out reluctantly.
Andrew shrugged. “Extra credit. They’ll give us points toward something. Maybe the Muggle Studies professor will remember us later on when we need academic references.”
One could never have enough academic references. William added two books to his stack and said, “Let’s check these out and start writing.”
“Where have you been?” William asked when he walked into their room and saw Andrew lying on his bed, reading.
“Drawing room upstairs, the one with the grand piano. I wrote a new song,” Andrew answered absently, flipping a page.
“Play it for me tomorrow,” William told him, because if he didn’t, Andrew would write three more before William had a chance to hear it and he’d have forgotten this one.
“Third period,” Andrew replied. “But fast, because I have a date with a shrivelfig.”
Which reminded William of what he’d meant to tell Andrew earlier, before he’d gone and disappeared. “Guess what?” he said, tossing his robe onto the trunk at the foot of his bed and grinning.
Andrew didn’t even look up from his Defence text. “You’ve calculated that the size of our room each year doesn’t actually expand exponentially in proportion with your freakishly long legs.”
“Wrong,” William answered. “Although you might be right. But no, actually, I have a date.”
That got Andrew’s attention. “With?”
“Chastity McGovern,” William said with no small amount of smugness. Chastity was a Hufflepuff, but she was smart, driven, and most importantly, extremely attractive. “I was going to ask her to something more important, like the Hallowe’en Feast, but there’s a first-week party on Friday night and I didn’t want to wait, so I asked her to that instead.”
Andrew whistled his appreciation, and then started laughing.
“What?” William asked, irked. He lobbed his tie at Andrew’s head. “What?”
“You’re dating a girl named Chastity,” Andrew hooted, rolling onto his back and laughing upside-down. William’s necktie slithered off his chest onto the floor.
“It’s a perfectly normal Muggleborn name,” William objected. “It’s not her fault, Muggles have very odd notions about naming.”
“I’m just saying, man,” Andrew said, raising his hands in defence. “Good luck getting any there.”
“She kissed me on the cheek,” William said, raising an eyebrow. Andrew’s blink meant that he was recalling Ravenclaw wisdom as well: A kiss on the cheek first means a kiss on the lips later. Then his expression turned thoughtful, and even upside down William could tell he was frowning.
“You know, British Modern Witch says that your first intimate sexual experience can heavily define your sexuality for the rest of your life,” Andrew said, folding his hands behind his head. “If you only have experiences with one gender, it can colour the rest of your future relationships and attractions.”
William paused, then sat down on his bed. He wasn’t sure which to focus on: The fact that Andrew apparently read BMW at least once or the idea that his date with Chastity on Friday was going to influence all of his future romantic interests.
“I mean, it probably would anyway, right?” Andrew mused. “I mean, first love, or first girlfriend, or whatever. First is always important.”
William had originally planned out the loss of his virginity to involve four other people, two of each gender, all of different Houses and ethnic backgrounds. It was still an excellent plan, he just wasn’t ready to put it into effect. The Chastity thing had sort of come out of nowhere.
“How long do I have?” he asked. “When it says your first experience, there ought to be some sort of time frame, right? I can’t possibly kiss two people at the same exact time.”
“I dunno,” Andrew said slowly. “I saw a picture once…”
“Okay, but realistically,” William interrupted. He’d seen the picture too. It had looked very messy and involved a lot of tongue, and he didn’t think Chastity would be up for that as a first kiss. He didn’t think he was, either.
“I dunno,” Andrew said again, thoughtful. “A few days?”
“Okay,” William said, perfectly calm. He could do this. “I have until Friday, then, and at least through the weekend. Say by Monday, to be safe.” Where was he going to find someone to kiss by next Monday? There had to be someone. He could find someone. And Chastity would understand.
“Dude, you are totally freaking out over this,” Andrew observed. He rolled over to watch William, who was not freaking out, thank you very much. Andrew sighed. “Come over here,” he said. When William just stared blankly, he said, “Come on, man, come on over here.”
William got up and approached cautiously. Andrew snorted at him.
“With moves like these, your date is going to be a total success,” he said, and before William had quite registered the plan, Andrew had caught his hand and William had braced one knee on the bed beside him like he actually knew what in Merlin’s name he was doing, and they were kissing.
Neither of them were very good at it, but Andrew wasn’t Chastity, he was less curvy and slightly more smelly and incredibly familiar, so William wasn’t actually terrified out of his mind. Andrew made a noise of complaint, probably at the angle his neck was stuck at, so William climbed the rest of the way onto the bed and pushed Andrew down.
They broke apart when that happened, and Andrew licked his lips. “That wasn’t so bad,” he said.
“Thanks,” William said automatically, because Andrew deserved the sarcasm for that comment. He tilted his head. “Do you think that was enough of an experience to equalize the sample?” He couldn’t very well come back and make out more with Andrew after he’d properly started dating Chastity, if it wasn’t.
“Is she going to let you touch her breasts?” Andrew asked, which was a valid question and one William didn’t know the answer to.
He slid his hand over Andrew’s chest, just in case, and Andrew stretched up to kiss him again, and they settled into some pretty fantastic making out. Then a thought occurred to William and he jerked back, eyes wide. “What about you?” he asked, worried. “Your first experience?” Girls were notoriously harder to talk into kissing than boys were, even for the sake of fair gender equality.
“Got it covered,” Andrew said smugly. His hair was all ruffled and sticking out at weird angles from being smushed on the bed, and he still looked cooler than William could ever manage. “Sappho Demetriou, same party, Friday night.”
“Nice,” William replied, surprised and approving. Sappho was one of the prettiest girls in their year, and a Slytherin with the reputation of being an ice-queen besides. Half the guys in the school had been trying to snag her. And none had, yet, which had mostly been put down to the rumours…
He smiled slowly.
“What?” Andrew demanded.
“You’re giving me a hard time for Chastity, and you’re not worried about a girl named Sappho?” William asked, starting to laugh.
Andrew frowned at him. He hadn’t spent as much time reading Words of Witches: Poetry through the Ages as William had, clearly. “What?” he asked again.
William shook his head. “Never mind,” he said.
“Tongue, Beckett,” Andrew ordered, pulling on a handful of his hair, and William was still laughing when he obliged.
“Nuh-uh,” Andrew said flatly, bringing William back to himself with a start. “I saw her first.”
“You did not,” William objected, hissing it because the pretty new transfer student was still conceivably within earshot, even if she and her amazing…er…skirt had just walked away down the corridor. “We were in the same class when she was introduced!”
“You were looking at the book,” Andrew countered. “I was looking at the girl. The hot girl.”
“You can’t call dibs on another person,” William claimed haughtily, because Andrew had him there and he needed to find another way around it.
“Then you should let me have a chance first,” Andrew insisted. When William started to protest, he continued, “Your dating pool is wider! It’s only fair!”
“It’s not my fault you’re mostly only attracted to people who identify as female-gendered,” William told him, frowning. He glanced back behind him out of habit before sliding the secret door open behind the tapestry that led to the Tower. Andrew was right behind him, sealing it up tight before anyone could see them.
“It’s not my fault either, you can’t play the genetics card,” Andrew argued. They walked up to their dorm room with him still emphasizing, “Hot girl.”
William pushed the door open to their room and froze. “Is that…?” he asked, but he already knew that it was. He and Andrew walked over to it together, their hands hovering but not touching.
“Our Runic Heritage, 80th edition,” Andrew breathed reverentially.
They’d put in the order together, because the book was so expensive and copies were limited, but they hadn’t expected it to arrive for another week. It was glossy and perfect, the cover shimmering bronze and the spine unbroken. William’s mouth was watering.
“I’m reading it first,” he said as soon as he’d recovered his presence of mind, quickly before Andrew could get in ahead of him. “Tonight after class.”
“No way,” Andrew said immediately. “I get it first. You have an essay to write.”
“You have two chapters to read,” William countered, because he knew Andrew’s workload as well as his own. “This will give me an edge in Ancient Runes for our first assignment, that’s part of why we ordered it.”
“One assignment,” Andrew scoffed. “Norse runes are my capstone project for this year, that’s a much bigger deal.”
“You have all term for that,” William pointed out. He reached for the book at the same time as Andrew and they both ended up with one side each, holding it between them.
“You are not getting this first,” Andrew swore solemnly. “No way.”
“Let’s make a deal,” William bargained. “You can have the hot girl if I can have the book.”
“What happened to not calling dibs on another person?” Andrew asked, rhetorically since William still wasn’t letting go of the book and was in complete earnest. “No, you can have the girl. I get the book.”
“Gordian Knot race you for it,” William tried, without much hope.
Andrew snorted. “Not a chance. Wrestle me for it like a man, Beckett.”
They were both tugging on the book now, the cover slipping and squeaking in their hands. “Save the book!” William yelped as it started to slide dangerously out of their grip, and they both warily set it down on the trunk before William tackled Andrew onto the bed and tried to pin him.
“You’ll never take me alive,” Andrew panted, squirming like a fish and clocking William solidly in the ear with his elbow.
The door opened and one of their other roommates came in, stopping in the doorway. William and Andrew both froze, tangled together on the bed with the covers bunched around them, rumpled and panting.
“Let me guess,” J said dryly. “Our Runic Heritage arrived?”
“The strong shall justly vanquish the weak!” William declared, throwing Andrew off of him and incidentally tumbling them both onto the floor. Andrew got a hand in his hair and pulled, so William shoved an elbow into his gut.
J waited for another second, then quietly turned around and closed the door on them.
“I’m dropping Potions,” Andrew groaned, falling forward until he faceplanted in their Practical Potionwork text. His voice was muffled when he continued, “I can’t stay awake long enough to study it.”
“You can’t drop Potions,” William told him distractedly, blinking as the words of his Astronomy essay went fuzzy in front of his eyes. “Who will keep us in stimulant potions until the end of the year?”
Andrew raised his head from the book. “You have a point,” he said, with the tone of one walking to the gallows. “How is it already this hard??”
“They’re trying to weed us out,” William said grimly, finishing his paragraph with a flourish. It was a little crooked, but at least he was marginally certain everything was spelled correctly. “Trying to make us crack under the pressure and drop courses so that we don’t beat the record.”
“Dude, we’re never beating the record,” Andrew replied sadly. His voice was muffled again, so William was fairly sure he was in the book again, but he didn’t take his eyes off the parchment for long enough to confirm that theory. “They’re already thwarting us with their NEWT schedules and refusal to let us repeat each day three times in order to make it to every class.”
“It’s not over yet,” William replied. He had six more inches to go, and then he could move on to Charms.
“Remember when we had sex?” Andrew said dreamily.
William’s quill paused in its journey across the parchment. “No, actually,” he said after a moment of thought, brow furrowing. “Was I really that drunk?”
“No, no, I mean.” Andrew sat up and waved a hand. “With girls. Well, me with girls. Just sex, is what I’m trying to say here. Do you remember when either of us had time for anything besides studying and going to class?”
William pondered that for a minute. “No,” he said finally. “I don’t. It’s all a blur.”
“We need to have a party,” Andrew said. He dropped out of his chair and crawled across the room to rest his cheek on William’s thigh. “A real party, Becks. With girls. And drinks.”
William petted Andrew’s hair absently and slid the parchment up an extra inch so he could keep writing. “Waterfall room?” he asked.
“Everyone’s studying, they’ll never go for it.” Andrew sighed, slithering down onto the floor to stretch out. He picked up the Herbology textbook that was down there and flipped to their current chapter to start reading automatically.
“All the Ravenclaws are studying,” William corrected slowly, quill pausing for just long enough to make a tiny blot out of his final period. “No one else will be for months yet.”
Andrew lifted his head. “Are you suggesting we crash a party?” he inquired, sounding intrigued.
“I’m suggesting,” William said, “that we crash a Slytherin party.”
Andrew’s eyes lit up. “Ryan Ross,” he breathed, like he’d just turned two ounces of butterfly wings, a spoonful of white sand and a splash of aqua vitae into alchemical liquid gold.
“And Spencer Smith,” William finished. He rolled his parchment up, tied it neatly with a dark red ribbon for Astronomy, and spun around in his chair. “Tonight,” he vowed. “We will find a way in.”
“I love you so much right now,” Andrew informed him.
“Yeah, yeah,” William teased, grinning. “Then hand me my book. I have two more chapters to read before we can go.”
“Let’s make a pact,” Andrew said, crawling over with the book in his hand. “You and me. Once we leave here, we don’t get trapped. We earn our NEWTs, we walk out that door and we never look back.”
William considered him, not taking the proffered book yet. “No graduate studies?”
Andrew shook his head. “We don’t need ‘em. We’re going to change the world, fuck the rest of it. Let’s leave together and never come back.”
William smiled slowly. He took the book, set it out of the way and reached down to clasp Andrew’s hand. “Deal,” he promised. “We never look back.”
Andrew grinned back at him, and even with war looming and NEWTs approaching and their entire future uncertain, William felt on top of the world.