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Richie takes a languid sip of the Firewhisky before placing it back in the middle of the floor, where they’re all sat around it in a circle. It’s a little funny, almost like they’re gathered just for the Firewhisky. In a way, he supposes they are. The thought makes him laugh out loud.
“What the hell are you laughing for, you weirdo,” Eddie asks with a soft elbow to Richie’s side. Richie leers down at him with a grin as he shakes his head. Eddie must have scooted closer at some point, because his face is right there. Richie feels that pull again, the one which almost has him leaning forward to touch his lips softly to Eddie’s. It’s a pull that keeps getting harder to ignore, but of course he has to. He’s afraid what would happen if he didn’t.
“Alright, alright, my turn,” Bev suddenly declares, grabbing the bottle from the floor and pulling it up to her mouth for one, large swig. “Richie! Truth or dare,”
“Dare,” Richie says easily, already ready to do whatever Bev has in mind.
“Hmm,” Bev mulls, then smirks, getting that evil glint in her eye which makes Richie adore her as much as he does. “I dare you to lick Stan’s armpit,”
“Absolutely not!” Stan shrieks. “It’s not my dare, and I refuse. Not happening.”
Richie is already scooting forward, towards Stan who is sitting right across from him in their little circle. Stan starts scooting backwards.
“C’mon, Staniel, I know you want a piece of this,” Richie says, sticking his tongue out and making a point of licking it around his mouth as exaggeratedly sensual as he can.
“Why the hell are you even agreeing to this? It’s fucking disgusting,” Stan says, firmly keeping his arms crossed, pressing his arms down to his torso so his armpits remain unavailable.
“A dare’s a dare!” Richie sings. “Have you ever known me to back out of one? Give me some credit here, please.”
“If you lick anyone’s armpit you will lose any and all credit forever. And your dignity. What little's left of it, anyway.” Stan continues.
Richie sighs loudly, looking over at Bev as he puts his hands up in defeat. “What do you want me to do here?”
Bev raises her brow slightly, giving a small shrug as she leans back into Ben’s arm. “Truth?”
“No way,” Richie shakes his head rapidly. “I picked dare.”
Bill and Mike aren’t even paying attention at this point, talking quietly between them about the upcoming Quidditch game between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw which they’ll both be playing in, as Chaser and Keeper respectively.
“Skip this round, can’t come up with anything better.” Bev says, to which Richie groans, disappointed, but Bev only shrugs like she can’t be bothered with it.
Richie scoots back over to Eddie, who smiles at him as he returns. Richie’s mind blanks for a moment as he studies that smile with the utmost focus, wanting to print it to his brain and never forget it. Eddie raises a brow in question, but his eyes are still soft as he peers back at Richie, not leaning away, even though they’re so close yet again.
There’s a warm feeling in Richie’s chest which he would like to blame on the Firewhisky, but knows all too well - from any other time he’s been around Eddie when not under the influence of the beverage - that it is caused purely by the tiny, freckled, adorable little devil himself.
As they go around the circle, everyone else picks truth. Mike reveals he’s never tried Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, Eddie answers no to whether he’s ever played hooky before and Stan swears he has the house elves clean his robes three times a week. By the time it’s Richie’s turn again, he proudly proclaims “Dare!”, which Eddie points out.
“C’mon Rich!” he says, giggling they way he always does when under the influence of the Firewhisky. “It’s no fun if you always pick dare.”
“Ahh, but you’ve got it wrong Eddie, m’love! It’s the other way around, it’s no fun when you guys always pick truth!” Richie croons, pinching Eddie’s cheek. Eddie pushes his hand away with an eye roll, though the smile is still clear in his eyes.
“I dare you to kiss Eddie,” Stan decides with a challenge to his stare, arms still crossed. In a sweeping thought, Richie thinks that Stan has never looked more intimidating.
As Richie catches up with what he said, it feels like a bucket of cold water has been tipped over the top of his head. Is Stan messing with him? Does Stan know?
There is no way that he knows… he can’t. Richie has been so, so careful. He’s been more careful about this than with anything else in his life. Richie feels frozen, but he still manages to chance a glance over at Eddie who’s looking at him with nervousness and something like anticipation. Richie knows he’s being weird; he never freezes up, always ready for a dare or a challenge. He shakes his shoulders a little as he fakes a chuckle.
“Alrighto, Stan the Man, your wish is my command,” he jokes. He points a finger at Stan. “Keep it in your pants though, swear?”
Stan rolls his eyes, but him as well as the others are leaning forward as if eager to see what happens next. It’s almost like they’re not expecting Richie to pull through with the dare. Well, Richie has never been one to let people down. So, he leans forward, quick as anything, placing a kiss on Eddie’s cheek before quickly ripping himself away. He puts his arms out in a gesture and says loudly, “Ta da!”.
Their group is quiet for a moment, and the only sound Richie can hear is the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears. Thankfully, Stan deems the kiss sufficient for the dare and they all move on. Well, almost all of them.
It’s embarrassing how off kilter Richie feels, almost reeling from the innocent cheek kiss. Looking over at Eddie, he seems unperturbed, though to Eddie it might just have seemed like any old tease from Richie. To Richie though, it was different, because he knows what Stan had really meant, daring him to kiss Eddie specifically. It could have been any one of the other Losers, but Stan had chosen Eddie.
He is thrown out of his thoughts as Eddie leans his head on Richie’s shoulder, and Richie’s arm automatically goes around his shoulders, pulling Eddie closer without his brain asking it to. Eddie snuggles closer.
“You tired?” Richie asks him quietly, just loud enough for them. Eddie makes a little sound which is probably meant to be a yes.
“You mind?” Eddie asks after a moment, looking up at Richie again with those huge, warm eyes. How could Richie, even if he wanted to, ever tell him no?
“Course not,” he says instead, meaning it so intensely it would be embarrassing if anyone knew. Eddie snuggles back into the crook of his arm and they stay like that until they all eventually have to head back to their dormitories; Richie to Slytherin, Eddie and Bill to Gryffindor, Stan and Mike to Ravenclaw, and Bev and Ben to Hufflepuff.
The next morning Richie actually pulls his ass down to breakfast in the Great Hall, even though he’s feeling extra groggy and dead from the Firewhisky. He knows eating something will most likely help with that, and it also means he will see his friends before class, specifically Eddie, with whom he has Defense Against the Dark Arts with this morning.
“Morning fellas,” Richie greets as he slips onto the bench next to Eddie at the Gryffindor table. Only Eddie, Stan and Mike seem to have been able to drag themselves out of bed this morning, coming as no surprise to Richie.
“Goodmorning, Richie,” Eddie beams at him, pushing toast and butter towards him, knowing it’s exactly what he needs right now.
“Thank you, Eddie, m’love,” Richie says, reaching up a hand that is too slow to manage to pinch Eddie’s cheek before it’s pushed away. Eddie’s hand lingers on Richie’s for a moment, probably due to his own mobility being slowed down in his own hangover.
“Gotta say, I’m a little surprised you’ve showed yourself at breakfast, Richie,” Stan comments from across the table, munching on his own piece of toast.
“How could I miss having breakfast with my Eds and walking with him to class on this fine morning, Staniel?” Richie says loudly, like it's a joke and not the very truth, flinging his arm around Eddie, which throws him straight back to last night, when they had sat like that for hours.
Mike and Eddie laugh, though Eddie notably does not push Richie’s arm away this time. Stan only gives Richie a knowing look which makes his skin itch, and Richie ignores him throughout the rest of breakfast as he devours seven pieces of toast with butter.
Once they are finished eating, Stan and Mike head off for their Transfigurations lesson and Eddie and Richie start making their way towards the Serpentine Corridor, third floor, where the DADA classroom is located. On the way Eddie keeps telling Richie about this new product he saw in Hogsmeade with Bev, which apparently can tell you when you’ll get sick next.
“See, cause if I know before it happens, I can prevent it!”
“Eds,” Richie chuckles. “You haven’t been sick once since Second year, and even that was only a cold which Madam Pomfrey healed with just one potion.”
Eddie waves this off and starts explaining how you can never be too safe, when a voice calls their name down the hall.
“Eddie! Richie! Wait up!”
They both stop and turn to watch Bill as he weaves his way through the crowd of students all making their way to class, tie barely made around his neck and not tucked into his sweater, and his robes coming off a shoulder as his bookbag pulls it down.
“And Denbrough cuts through the hurdles, throwing himself at the finish line with impressive speed!” Richie narrates, making Bill glare. “10 points to Gryffindor!”
“Only 10? That d-deserved 25 at l-least.” Bill huffs, pulling both his robe and book bag back up his shoulder, though takes no mind of the state of his tie.
“Bill, fix your tie! You know Professor Pumpell takes points for disregarding dress code.” Eddie nags. He’s been obsessed with Gryffindor winning the House Cup this year, considering they haven’t won it once since they started just over five years ago. He’s determined for them to win it either their sixth or seventh year. Bill allows Eddie to manhandle his tie into a better state, and tucks it into his sweater. Eddie steps back to admire his handiwork.
“You need to listen to your superiors, Billiam,” Richie says sagely, pointing out the sign on Eddie’s robe proclaiming him as ‘Prefect’.
“F-fuck off, Rich,” Bill says happily.
They enter class just as their professor is telling everyone to quiet down and set their bookbags by the wall, as they’re having a practical lesson today. Richie is immediately intrigued; he always loves the practical lessons best.
“I wonder what we’ll be doing today,” Eddie mutters. “We just had the lesson on dueling with dark spells last week, you’d think we’d have a theoretical one this week.”
Richie bumps him softly. “Don’t ruin the fun, Eds. I’ll take any practical lesson I can get.”
“Yeah,” Eddie says, looking up at Richie with a warm look in his eyes which Richie does not allow himself to interpret. “I know.”
“Alright, students, gather round, please and thank you,” Professor Pumpell says loudly, and Richie, Bill and Eddie join their classmates as they flock around her and a closet standing in the middle of the room.
“What do you think’s in there?” Richie whispers in Eddie’s ear.
“I’m sure if you listen for ten more second’s, she’ll say,” Eddie replies quietly before turning his attention back to the professor. Richie grins and puts his arm back over Eddie’s shoulder, a place where he quite likes to rest it as of lately.
“Okay, I’m sure you’re all wondering why I’m standing next to this closet. Well, the reason is quite simple. I was made aware that due to different circumstances, this year’s Six years, by that I mean you lot, of course, was never taught the mandatory lesson on Boggarts in your third year. Therefore, we are using today’s lesson to do just that!”
Eddie’s eyes widen, and Bill steps forward next to Richie. Richie frowns to himself. Boggarts are a widely known creature in the Wizarding World. Everyone’s heard of them, even if they have never encountered one. Richie’s unsure why it’s so important that they do.
“You might be thinking this is a simple creature to defeat, especially with having had more than five years of the Dark Arts study.” Professor Pumpell continues on. “However, facing your worst fear, even if only a mirror image of the real thing, can be as terrifying as actually facing what the Boggart is imitating. Luckily, the spell to defeat it is rather simple. You simply point your wand at the Boggart and yell ‘Riddikulus!’ as you imagine a way to turn the thing into something not so terrifying. See, what truly beats the Boggart is laughter, so I need you to think of what scares you the most, and then how to make it not so scary, then we shall continue the lesson once you’re all ready.”
Richie’s arm slips off of Eddie’s shoulder as he falls into thought. What does scare him the most? Clowns? Well, that would be stupid, how do you turn a clown into something that makes you laugh when that’s what they’re already supposed to do? Richie looks over at Eddie who is frowning, eyes worried as he gnaws on his lip. Richie is about to ask if he’s alright when the professor speaks again, telling them it’s time to start.
“Who wants to go first?” she asks the class, but no one seems to be interested in doing that. “Denbrough? Would you be alright?”
“Uh,” Bill utters eloquently. “S-sure.”
“Great. I’ll be right beside you to help should you need it, but I’m sure you’ll be just fine!” Professor Pumpell says encouragingly, making Richie roll his eyes at her predictability. It’s been obvious in the past four years since she took over the post of Professor in DADA that Bill is one of her favorites.
Bill steps up in front of the closet as the rest of the class slinks backwards away from it. Richie stays in his place though, excited to see what’s about to happen as he has never seen a Boggart before.
As Professor Pumpell spells the lock open, the closet door bangs open and out steps a man Richie never thought he would see the face of again. Not since he was arrested five years ago for the kidnapping and attempted murder of Georgie Denbrough and thrown into Azkaban to rot for the rest of his life. Robert Gray looks as dreadfully nasty as he always did, creeping out from the closet the exact same way he used to creep around the neighborhoods in the wizarding town where both Bill and Richie grew up.
“Riddikulus!” Bill yells, pointing his wand at the man…creature…thing as he stares it down with an angry glare. Richie watches as his crooked nose turns into a red ball, as his beaten up boots grow long and yellow and his hair goes from a matted grey-brown into a big curly heap of color. The rest of their class laughs as he stumbles around in his new clown form but Richie cringes. He never liked clowns very much.
A few others go after him; Kay McKall turns a muggle car into a giant pumpkin with wheels and Audra Phillips makes a werewolf turn into a small dog in robes. Then, Professor Pumpell turns to Richie.
“Mr. Tozier! You alright with going next?” she asks, and Richie nods dumbly. It’s all gone fine thus far, and he can’t imagine he won’t do alright himself. He’s known to be one of the best in Spellwork in their year.
As he steps forward, staring at the Boggart as it for a moment seems confused what to do, it hits him that he genuinely has no clue what it might turn into. He had thought clown, but it has already turned into that as Bill's counter apparition, so Richie can't imagine it would be too effective as his fear now. Nothing could have prepared him for what the beast finally takes form of, though.
Because suddenly Eddie stands before him, his robes neat like always, hair parted where he usually parts it, eyes wide and curious the way they often are with Richie.
Richie’s mind takes a moment catching up, but the silence which overtakes the classroom is deafening. Then, an oh-so-familiar voice takes the word.
“Want to play Truth or Dare, Richie?” he asks, taking a small step forward. Richie is frozen in his place, and goosebumps trail up his neck at the particular tone of Eddie’s voice. It’s cold, almost mocking, even if the words are innocent enough.
He says nothing, his mind still struggling to catch up with whatever’s happening here. Eddie swings his robes a little, looking down coyly before looking up again right into Richie’s waiting gaze. His stare is timid, and strangely almost taunting.
“I know you’re always ready for a Dare… but when are you gonna choose Truth, huh?” He puts on an exaggerated frown, lip pouting in a way which would usually have Richie throwing himself at the opportunity to turn it upside down, but now has him staring in horror. “It’s no fun when you always pick Dare, you know.”
Richie’s mouth feels dry, his entire body cold. He’s vaguely aware of Professor Pumpell telling him to use the counter spell, but he can’t move his arm to point his wand and even if he could, he’s sure the word wouldn’t have left his mouth anyway.
Eddie smiles softly, but it’s not at all kind or warm. “You can pick Truth with me, Richie. After all, I already know your secret anyway. Your dirty little secret, Richie.” Eddie cackles the last part like he is sharing a joke with Richie, but it sounds absolutely unhinged.
At that, Richie is kicked into gear. Even if his breath has left him and his head is thundering, his body finally allows him to move, and move Richie does. Turning around, Richie avoids the gazes of his confused classmates - who all know just how good of friends Eddie and Richie are - and full on sprints out of the classroom before anybody can stop him. He runs and runs until his lungs won’t allow him to anymore. When he finally stops, he finds himself at the Owlery.
He’s pleased that no one seems to have followed him, because the moment the adrenaline wears off, he breaks into sobs, his whole body shaking and owls flying away in fright.
Richie does not know how long he sits there for, but eventually the sobs turn into regular crying and once the cries die out, he just sits there, wistfully watching the Hogwarts grounds outside, the view spectacular from his position in the tower.
He shouldn’t be surprised when he finally hears someone enter from behind him, but he jumps when he senses someone sitting down beside him. Scared to look, he peeks from the corner of his eye, and of course, spots none other than Eddie Kaspbrak sitting next to him, looking out at the view Richie has been learning every inch of for the past however long.
Richie holds his breath. He has never been more terrified to hear what Eddie might have to say to him. But Eddie doesn’t say anything, instead he just joins Richie sitting in silence, and for a while they do just that.
When Eddie finally speaks up, it’s been quiet for so long that Richie almost jumps out of his seat on the Owlery windowsill.
“You know, I’m almost glad you broke the lesson off,” he says, quietly, barely audible. Richie finally dares to turn to look at him, frowning fearfully. Is Eddie mocking him? Eddie turns his head too, barely daring a peek at Richie before looking out at the grounds again. “I think… I think whatever I would have seen the Boggart as… it wouldn’t have been anything good. I mean, that's obvious of course, but… I think… I’m afraid I might’ve seen my mom," he says, words leaving him so quickly he can't possibly catch a breath between them. "… so maybe it’s better to live not knowing, y’know? I prefer not knowing if she's…”
He trails off, but Richie understands what he is saying. He can't imagine what that is like for Eddie; his whole relationship with his mother. The fact that it's bad enough that Eddie fears she might be what he would see the Boggart as, makes Richie's stomach churn in a way where he can't quite decipher whether it is in sadness or anger. Richie aches to put his arm around Eddie’s shoulder. But he doesn’t dare.
They share another long moment of silence before Eddie is the one speak again. This time it’s soft, so soft and so vulnerable, Richie thinks his heart could just break. “Should I be worried that you’re afraid of me, Rich?”
Richie’s heart stutters, his breath along with it. He shakes his head crazily, desperate to let Eddie know that he can’t even explain what happened in the Boggart lesson.
“Eds, I,” he stammers clumsily. “I don’t know what… Eddie, you have to believe me, I have no idea…”
He feels his throat closing up again and his eyes begin to sting once more. He had been sure he had cried himself all out, but clearly not. He curses himself for being such a crybaby, and can’t believe it when he feels a smaller, much warmer hand grab his own.
“Rich,” Eddie murmurs. “You don't have to be afraid. Whatever it is you think I might do… I won’t, okay? You’re my best friend. You know that, right?”
Looking down at Eddie with wide eyes, he nods slowly. “Of course, I… I do know that. I do.”
“Then, will you please tell me what it is? Why the Boggart turned into me?” Eddie pleads, then makes sure to add, “You don’t have to.”
Richie looks back outside, running everything over in his head. he’s been sat here for so long, thinking about everything, and only one reason really makes sense as to why it had been Eddie the Boggart turned into, and why Boggart-Eddie would say the things he had. So, Richie puts on his brave boots and speaks on an inward breath.
“Truthordare?”
“What?”
“Truth or dare? You’re supposed to pick one,” Richie jokes, smiling wryly in a way that doesn’t at all reach his eyes.
“I know that, asshat, but why?”
“Just pick, Eds.”
“Fine,” Eddie huffs, confused. “Dare?”
Perfect, Richie thinks. “I dare you to ask me Truth or Dare.”
“What, Rich…” Eddie starts to sound slightly exasperated.
“C’mon, just play along, okay?” Richie begs, giving Eddie’s hand a little squeeze and Eddie blinks once slowly.
“Alright. Truth or Dare, Chee?”
Richie gulps. This is it, he guesses, heart beating so fast it feels like he might faint. But the situation is already so different than with Boggart-Eddie. Boggart-Eddie had looked at Richie with pure malicious intent, challenging him to reveal this part of himself in front of everyone, something he wasn’t at all ready for. Now, though, the real Eddie is looking up at him with those warm and kind eyes that Richie has always trusted before. There is no cruel intent there, just genuine curiosity.
So, Richie picks, “Truth.”
Eddie’s eyes widen, and they study Richie’s face as if checking to see if he’s sure. Richie gives the smallest of nods to give him the consent he’s looking for, and Eddie schools his face. He clears his throat a little, like he needs it to be perfectly clear when he asks Richie whatever it is that he wants the truth for.
“The Boggart said you have a secret… What’s your secret, Richie?”
Richie had predicted Eddie would ask about that, yet finding an answer is harder than he thought it would be. Or, that’s bullshit, he knew it would be hard, that’s why he has been sat crying for what feels like hours. Still, he pushes the words out, because he knows he has to.
“I guess the Boggart, the bitchass that it is, somehow knew that I… I’m head-over-heels idiotically super annoyingly obsessed with wanting to kiss you and I guess I’m scared of that because it could mean I lose you and if I lost you I just don’t think I could take it, so please Eddie no matter how you feel about that, please don’t hate me, because I couldn’t stand it if you did.”
Richie rushes the words out, all in one breath, and has to heave for a second one once he’s finished. He’s staring at their hands, finding it more and more remarkable each second they stay entwined. Eventually, Eddie chuckles, and for a second Richie thinks he’s gonna piss his pants, but then Eddie’s other hand comes to grab Richie’s chin, and he turns it so that their eyes meet.
Eddie’s grin is so wide and so blinding that Richie’s heart stops again but for a whole other reason than previously. That smile is so great that Richie can feel one forming on his own face even if he doesn’t exactly know what Eddie thinks of his revelation yet.
“Richie,” Eddie says softly, still holding Richie’s hand as he removes the other from Richie’s chin and grabs his other hand. “I’ve been trying to get you to kiss me for the past seven months.”
“What?!” Richie bursts out. Surely, if this was true he would know about it. But Eddie doesn’t seem to be lying, and Richie has been known to be an oblivious idiot at times. “Are you serious?”
“Mhmm,” Eddie mutters, leaning ever so closely to Richie whose heartbeat is going bananas. “So, what the hell are you waiting for?”
Richie doesn’t waste another second as he pulls his hand free from Eddie’s to take his face in his hand, making sure his touch is feather light before he leans forward and touches his lips to Eddie’s.
It’s everything he’d hoped it would be yet nothing like he thought it would be. He can feel his heart settle down at the same time as it beats faster than ever and when Eddie sighs softly into his lips, Richie squeezes his eyes shut and deepens the kiss.
“Rich,” Eddie sighs, and Richie pulls away. “I would love to do that forever, but we both have Transfiguration in fifteen minutes and I am not about to not show up to Professor McGonagall’s class.”
Richie chuckles, pulling back only to immediately rush back in and steal another quick kiss from Eddie, then placing one on his right cheek and one on his forehead.
“Rich!” Eddie giggles, pushing him away playfully in a way that’s so familiar, and oh, maybe Richie really has been oblivious about this.
“M’sorry, my dear, but you’re plain stupid if you think I’m ever gonna stop kissing you now that I know I can!” Richie proclaims, getting to his feet and sticking his hand out to help Eddie up as well. Once he does, Eddie doesn’t let go of his hand.
“I don’t want you to stop, Rich. But we are gonna have to pause, because if we don’t get to class right now, McGonagall might make Halloween decorations of us and put them in the Great Hall for tonight.”
So, they run, hand in hand, back to the Castle and to the ground floor where the Transfiguration classroom is located. And if they stop a couple times along the way to share a few short kisses more, then who could really blame them, huh?