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Sunday, November 1^st (around Midnight)
Third Floor Corridor

The third-floor corridor was immersed in a quiet darkness, and the only source of lighting came from the thin strips of moonlight that filtered through the narrow windows, tinging the grey stone in a luminescent blue.

Ricky zoomed across the floor in complete silence, happy to ascertain that the silencing spell he’d put on the wheels of his skateboard worked perfectly; a suit of armor gave a start when he passed it by, but other than that, he could hear nothing but his own heavy breath as he tried a slalom, then a quick jump and a turnaround right in front of the Muggle Studies classroom.

The Hogwarts castle was a place of wonders, but Ricky liked it best at this time of night, when all the other students had gone to bed and it felt like the castle opened up for him to explore, the promise of discovering a new secret passageway or a door to a hidden tower always thrilling him to dive into another nighttime adventure. He knew it was against the rules, and usually he was careful to reserve his explorations for when he was sure he wouldn’t be found by wandering prefects, but tonight was different.

The memory of the letter that one of the school owls had brought him from home bobbed up once again in his mind, and he aggressively tried a difficult trick on his skateboard to push it back down.

He didn’t want to think about the nausea he’d felt when reading it -  the “nothing to do with you”s, the “change will be for the better”s, and the “surely a little distance” - because if he did, the only thing he could think about was how his family, his own world, was collapsing beneath his feet, and how there was nothing that stood between him and an endless fall into a pit of darkness where his parents couldn’t stand each other, his mother moved to the other side of the ocean, and he was left alone, abandoned and heartbroken.

No, Ricky wanted nothing more than to repress those thoughts and go on with his life: until he lived here, at Hogwarts, he could focus on the wizarding side of his life and pretend that his muggle household would remain frozen, unchanged until he came back. So, he’d avoided Big Red’s questions and waited until Kourtney and the other prefects had gone to sleep, then he’d grabbed his skateboard and hastily made his way out of Gryffindor Tower.

Everything was going perfectly: his mind felt lighter, the skateboard beneath his feet managed to ground him to his present reality, and there were no teachers, prefects or even wandering ghosts in sight.

Then Ricky turned a corner, and it was only thanks to his well-developed reflexes that he managed to narrowly avoid crashing into a shadow that had appeared out of nowhere. A surprisingly high-pitched scream broke the stillness and Ricky almost lost control of his board, screeching to a halt right before colliding with the statue of a hump-backed witch.

“Fuck!” He muttered under his breath, regaining his bearings and turning to face the person he’d almost run into.

“Bowen, you criminal!” EJ Caswell was glaring daggers at him, his back pressed against the wall. Of course, if someone were to catch Ricky in trouble, it just had to be the Slytherin Head Boy. Ricky had spent the better part of his previous two years – since Caswell had been nominated Slytherin’s prefect – trying to simultaneously prevent him to take points from Gryffindor every time they crossed paths, and at the same time did the best he could to rile him up every single one of those times. Ricky Bowen did not like authority, and Caswell seemed to bask in it.

“Hey, Caswell,” Ricky straightened his back: he was already in trouble, so he might as well get some fun out of it “Didn’t fancy you for a night owl.”

“What in the name of Merlin is that thing?” hissed Caswell, eyeing the skateboard in Ricky’s hands as if it were a dangerous wild beast.

“It’s a skateboard,” Ricky replied, amused at his bewilderment “A muggle thing.”

“And what exactly are you doing with it, at midnight, four floors away from your dormitories?” Once he’d established that Ricky wasn’t going to run into him again, Caswell regained his composure in a split second, and his eyes sparked triumphantly.

Ricky wanted to hex the smugness off of his pretty face - what would the Slytherin golden boy know about the feeling of suffocation that had driven him out of Gryffindor Tower, or the desire to escape from everything just for a little while?

“I was very clearly hoping I’d run into you, Caswell” Ricky replied sweetly “You know how much I love your lectures on rule-breaking.”

“That’s a beautiful thought,” Caswell came closer, and started counting on his fingers with an expression of fake concentration “Let’s see then… You’re out of your common room after curfew; you’re using a non-regulatory mean of transportation in the corridors, which you are apparently unable to control and could put at risk other people’s safety; oh, and you also appear completely indifferent to the fact that you’re breaking school rules.” Caswell’s smile grew wider “That would be fifty points from Gryffindor, Bowen.”

Ricky’s grip on his skateboard was so tight that his fingers almost hurt. That was perfect, just the icing on the cake to top the shittiest night he’d had in weeks.

“You know,” he replied, hoping that Caswell wouldn’t notice how nervous he was “It’s basically like you’re asking me to run you over with my skateboard.”

Alarm flashed in Caswell’s eyes, and Ricky couldn’t help but snicker at the thought that the Head Boy, Slytherin’s Quidditch Captain and Hogwarts’s best student seemed to be deadly afraid of his very muggle board.

“I’ll have you know that making an attempt on the life of a Head Boy is not only a breach of the school rules, but also against the Wizarding Law” he spat back.

“And I’ll have you know,” Ricky replied, enjoying himself immensely “That I could easily pass it off as self-defense.”

“On what grounds?” asked Caswell, with an air of superiority.

“You’re boring me to death.”

In the end, it had been worth sneaking out and losing fifty house points just for the look on Caswell’s face when he’d said those words. Probably not the fifty points. Still, Ricky walked back to his dormitories trying his best to suppress a chuckle, and only once he’d tiredly climbed into his four-poster bed in the sixth-years dormitories, did he realize that he hadn’t thought about his parents’ letter once, since he’d run into Caswell.

Monday, November 2^nd
The Great Hall

Ricky fell to his seat at the usual breakfast table, trying and failing to suppress a yawn that attracted everyone’s attention.

“Why, good morning sunshine,” Carlos greeted him with a lopsided smile over his herbal tea infusion. “Kind of you to present us with such a detailed view of your oral cavity at this early hour.”

Ricky pressed his face in his hands, feeling the lack of sleep weigh his eyelids shut as if they were made of lead. He paid no mind to Carlos and instead offered Nini a tired smile when she silently passed him a mug full of warm coffee, which Ricky cradled between his hands.

“Are you alright?” asked Nini in a hushed voice, as if Ricky were gravely ill.

“‘m fine,” he grumbled. “Just sleepy.”

“I better not find out you’ve been sneaking out again.” intervened Kourtney, brandishing a spoon to his face like a weapon. “Last year we almost didn’t win the House Cup because of you and your moonlight walks around the castle.”

Ricky gave her a sideways look, which was all he had the energy for, and grabbed a breakfast sandwich from the pile in front of him; Nini was still scrutinizing his face in search of worrying symptoms.

“But we won, didn’t we?” He said, with his mouth full. He knew Kourtney was going to find out at the next prefect meeting that yes, he had been sneaking out again and yes, Caswell had taken points from him again, but he would deal with that problem once it presented itself. No need to worry about it now.

“Dude,” Big Red leaned forward from where he was sitting next to Carlos and Seb. “Did you remember to finish the Transfiguration essay? It’s due before lunch.”

Ricky stared at his housemate, then looked into the depths of his mug of coffee and pondered the possibility of letting himself drown in it. Of course, he had forgotten about the essay.

“Nini” he begged “Can I take a look at yours during Charms? Please? Mazzara will have my head on a silver plate if I don’t bring it in…”

He knew this was not the way he was supposed to begin his sixth year: barely two months in, and he was already behind on almost every subject. He’d managed to prompt Kourtney into lecturing him over coffee, and he was so far behind on sleep that he was actually rather proud of himself just for making it to breakfast altogether.

Realizing that Nini hadn’t responded to his plead, Ricky lifted his head to look at her. Nini was staring at a group of seventh year Ravenclaws across the room, absent-mindedly running her fingers down her neat braids, her mouth hung open like a fish’s.

“Nini” Ricky snickered, elbowing his friend “You’re drooling.”

“What?” Nini jolted on her seat when Ricky abruptly pulled her from her daydream about Zac Corbin. She noticed the look he gave her, and her cheeks rapidly turned the color of ripe tomatoes.

“Shut up.” She added, diving into her cereal bowl; Ricky and Kourtney exchanged looks over her head, and both Gryffindors pressed their lips together to suppress a laugh: Nini was nothing short of obvious whenever she got a new crush.

Ricky sipped on his coffee, giving the guy a quick look: he didn’t know anything about him except that he played Quidditch, but he hoped for Nini’s sake that he was a decent person. She hadn’t had the best of luck when it came to dating (some of it might have been his fault too), and he thought his friend deserved the best love story Hogwarts could offer.

Ricky was still lost in his thoughts, when Ashlyn’s voice chirped from behind his shoulders.

“Morning guys!”

Big Red’s pale cheeks suddenly gained a little more color and Ricky turned to greet the Ravenclaw girl, but instead he was met with the sight of a neatly styled quaff of dark hair, pale green eyes and a knowing smirk.

“Hey” said EJ, standing behind his cousin.

Ricky choked on his sandwich.

As Nini patted his back energetically and half the students in the Great Hall stretched their necks to see who was suffocating on their breakfast, Ricky realized that just because his morning had started bad, it didn’t mean it couldn’t get worse.

“Anapneo” said Nini calmly, pointing her wand at him; Ricky felt his airways clear immediately, and hoped against hope that the tears prickling in his eyes would go unnoticed.

“Thank you for that welcome, Bowen” said EJ as soon as Ricky recovered enough to glare at him.

“You know how it is” he spat back, unable to hold his tongue “One look at you and I automatically want to kill myself.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment” retorted EJ, flashing the whole table with one of his dazzling smiles.

“Stop it, you two” Ashlyn scolded with a gentle smile.

“No, please, continue,” said Carlos, flicking his wand at the teapot to refill his cup “This is my prime form of entertainment.”

“Then your life must be very boring,” said Kourtney, raising her eyebrows; Ricky continued to stare EJ down, decided to let him know that despite the Head Boy badge he wore like a crown, he was not going to let himself be intimidated. Not by him, not by mundane things such as school rules.

“Do you guys want to sit?” asked Big Red, ignoring the murderous look Ricky shot at him. Ashlyn scanned the table for free seats, but before anyone could say a word, Ricky jumped to his feet.

“Take mine, I have to go,” he said, grabbing his bag and realizing that it was way too light, which meant he’d probably forgotten half of his books “Have a good morning, guys.”

He scuttled off towards the entrance feeling his friends’ gazes on his back, but a hand grabbed his robes and forced him to slow down.

“Why did you run off?” asked Nini with round eyes, her own bag slumped over her shoulder.

“I’m not in the mood for breakfast with the Caswells today” said Ricky, grimacing at his own words. Ashlyn was cool, but he was sure that the combined presence of EJ and Kourtney at the same table the morning after he’d been busted out of the Gryffindor Tower after curfew would have been the final blow to his sleep deprived nervous system.

“EJ caught you out of your dorm last night, didn’t he?” Nini sighed, sliding her arm around Ricky’s elbow while they crossed the entrance hall and made their way towards the Charms classroom.

“He’s always out to get me!” Ricky exclaimed, trying to deflate some of the heat that had been boiling up in the pit of his stomach since EJ had showed up at their table. “I’m telling you -  he hates me, and he always wants to get me in trouble.”

Nini gave him a silent look which stated clearly that, had Ricky not put himself in trouble in the first place, EJ wouldn’t have had any reason to have it in for him, but she was kind enough not to voice it out loud.

“He doesn’t hate you, Ricky” she said instead. “You know, I think you two could become good friends if you spent a little time getting to know each other.”

“Sure thing,” quipped Ricky “Except that I would rather hang myself naked from the Astronomy Tower than actively spend quality time with Caswell.”

“Then maybe you should consider following the school rules a little more, my friend” Nini guided him into the Charms classroom, that was still empty, and they took their usual seats in the back. “Gryffindor loses less points, Kourtney doesn’t snap your neck, and EJ stops catching you where you shouldn’t be.”

“No can do,” said Ricky, suddenly grinning. “I think he’s terrified of my skateboard.”

“What were you even doing with your skateboard at night?” Nini’s eyes reached the size of small teacup plates, while she froze in the act of handing Ricky her Transfiguration essay for him to copy.

Ricky slipped the parchment from her fingers and smacked a thankful kiss on her cheek.

“Nothing you need to worry about” he said, clicking on his muggle Bic pen and starting to jot down some notes to reach the end of his foot-long sheet of parchment “Just don’t tell Kourt, ok?”

Nini sighed and shook her head, settling down next to him and starting to practice non-verbal spells. Ricky stifled another yawn in his hand: it was going to be a long day.

Wednesday, November 4^th
The dungeons corridor

Ricky was testing his luck and he knew it, but he pushed all common sense aside and sped along the dungeon’s corridor on his skateboard, trying to get to the Potions classroom in time. He was not hoping to accidentally meet Caswell in the corridors, of course. Or maybe he was, he thought guiltily, but only because annoying the Slytherin Head Boy was on top of Ricky’s list of favorite things to do.

Ricky skated past a couple of first year Ravenclaws who screeched when he missed them by an inch, and barely avoided a suit of armor that jumped out of his way with a clang of metal. He was only one corridor away from the classroom, when suddenly a familiar voice echoed on the stone walls, bellowing his name.

“BOWEN!”

Ricky barely had the time to acknowledge the sudden twist in his belly when he heard EJ calling him, that he was hit with a non-verbal spell on his back. He felt a jolt around his ankle, his feet left the ground and suddenly gravity was pulling him down, and the world had become a confused mix of shapes and colors.

That bastard, Ricky thought to himself when he realized EJ had used the Levicorpus spell on him. He hung upside down in mid-air and felt blood rush uncomfortably to his head while EJ Caswell jogged up to him wearing a triumphant smile.

“You’ve passed the limit this time” he informed Ricky, who was glaring at him, knowing perfectly that he must look completely ridiculous with his robes falling over his head; at least they were at eye level with each other.

“Hey Head Boy, you just used magic on me” he growled, ignoring the rapid pace his heart had picked up when EJ had planted his face half a foot away from his “I’m afraid you’ll have to take points off of yourself.”

EJ simply smiled brightly and flicked his wand; Ricky braced himself, expecting to smash painfully on the cold stone floor, but instead he felt his body rotate gracefully in midair and he landed on his feet in front of Caswell.

“I am allowed to use magic if it’s to prevent vandals from hurting themselves and other students, Bowen” he corrected gleefully. “That’s… let’s say, twenty points from Gryffindor because I’m feeling generous, and detention.”

Ricky felt his cheeks heat under the Head Boy’s smug gaze.

“You cannot do that!” He protested. “Besides, what would you give me detention for? Going to class?”

“Of course, I can. And it’s because this the third time this week I found you riding this ridiculous muggle contraption in the corridors. You have zero respect for school rules, and I say you deserve a punishment.” EJ explained calmly, eyes twinkling; Ricky found it ridiculous that they matched the Slytherin Head Boy badge so well.

“Well, I say you deserve a punch in the face, but when do I ever get my way?” He said, tightening his fist on the strap of his bag. EJ seemed weirdly delighted, as if Ricky’s insults were the best compliments he’d ever received. He flicked his wand again, and a neatly folded strip of parchment appeared in midair between them.

“Give this to Professor Slughorn, I’m pretty sure the Potions classroom is in dire need of a good scrubbing. The muggle way, since you like it so much.”

He handed it to Ricky and bent down to retrieve his skateboard from where it had landed on the floor, when he’d used Levicorpus on his owner. Ricky grabbed it at once, and protectively hugged it close to his chest.

“Hands off my skateboard, Caswell!” He growled; that muggle contraption had been his anchor since his first year, when he’d felt completely out of his depth from the moment he’d first stepped foot on the Hogwarts Express.

“Don’t let me see that thing again, or I’ll have no choice but to confiscate it.” Caswell said in a sweet voice. Ricky raised his eyebrows: he’d have liked to see him try. “Now get to class Bowen, you’re late!”

Ricky turned on his heels without another word, wishing to put as much distance as he could between himself and EJ. He felt a rush of adrenaline in his body that he couldn’t really explain; he turned his head just before he rounded the corner, and surprisingly he found EJ still in the same spot, staring at him. When Ricky looked at him, the boy gave a start and immediately walked away to the other end of the corridor. Without pausing to ask himself why the inside of his belly felt twisted again, Ricky quickly reached the door that led to the Potions classroom. He hated EJ, that was why, especially now that there was a detention to not look forward to.

Thursday, November 5^th
Hogwarts Library

EJ flipped through Moste Antique Magicke with the same care he’d have reserved for a little bird with a broken wing, turning the ancient pages of the Transfiguration tome he’d borrowed from the restricted section in search of something that would help him write an Outstanding-worthy essay for Mazzara’s class. He had his Slytherin golden boy image to uphold, and if it meant spending late nights in the library on the few occasions when he didn’t have to patrol the corridors or lead Quidditch practices, so be it. Being a Slytherin icon took work, and EJ Caswell wasn’t afraid of a challenge.

He sighed heavily, squinting at the words crammed on the pages, trying to gather any useful information. He flicked the quill between his fingers, distracted by his own thoughts. He couldn’t believe the nerve Bowen had, constantly disrespecting the rules so blatantly, laughing in his face like his authority as Head Boy meant nothing to him. EJ clenched his jaw: if he hadn’t known better, he’d have said Ricky was doing it on purpose, just to get on his nerves. But then again, said a snickering voice in his head, you’re constantly going on patrols even when it’s not your turn, hoping to catch him in trouble…

EJ straightened his back on the chair and bent over the book, furiously trying to concentrate on schoolwork. Of course, he hoped to catch him in trouble! Ricky Bowen was the most annoying student he’d ever had the misfortune of meeting at Hogwarts, and he was a Gryffindor. Taking points from him was not only his personal delight, but also his duty as a Slytherin.

 Plus, Ricky’s insults are the comedic highlight of your day.

EJ gripped his quill so tightly that it snapped in half, with a loud crack that echoed in the empty library.

“Wow, stressed much?”

EJ offered Ashlyn a tired smile, as his cousin appeared from behind a shelf and approached his table, her arms full of books.

“Hey, Ash. It’s been a long day.” EJ moved some of his stuff to let her sit and studied the pile of volumes with a critical look.

“What’s all this, anyway?”

“Oh, Slughorn gave it to me for Potions club” Ashlyn brushed it off, and instead planted her clever brown eyes in his. EJ felt the sudden need to lean back: Ashlyn had a way of always making him feel like she could see right through him. “He also told me to give you a message.”

“Oh?”

“He says he’s organizing a dinner with some Canadian warlocks and a famous French singer, so he won’t be able to supervise the detention you gave Ricky. He says he’s counting on his trusted Head Boy to take his place.”

A dozen different thoughts sped through EJ’s mind all at once and he forced himself to remain impassible in front of Ashlyn’s scrutinizing gaze.

“I would bet my Firebolt that he’s organized that dinner specifically to avoid having to supervise the detention,” he commented, proud of how calm his voice sounded. “Not that I blame him, considering the company.”

You’re going to supervise Ricky’s detention. Hours alone with him in the Potions classroom. EJ swallowed loudly: he wasn’t sure if the idea terrified or delighted him.

“EJ…”

“I mean, three hours alone with Bowen? I’m going to need a bottle of Firewhiskey just to get through…”

“EJ Caswell!” Exclaimed Ashlyn, ending his nervous chatter “Did you really give Ricky detention?”

“He totally deserved it, Ash!” EJ defended himself “Really! He’s constantly on that stateboard thingy, doesn’t care about rules, thinks the school is his playground, finds always new ways to get on my nerves…”

“Mhh” Ashlyn tapped her fingers on the cover of one of her books, pressing her chin on her hand “And you’re sure you’re not just trying to… get back at him?”

EJ pressed his lips tightly and took a deep breath before doing something he might have regretted, like snapping at his cousin. EJ was proud of being a Slytherin: he thought his house was by far the best out of them all, and becoming Head Boy, getting to represent Slytherin and embody all of the house’s qualities had been the greatest honor of his life. Unfortunately, though, being a Slytherin in the years after the second Wizarding War also meant that everyone, sooner or later, would assume that he was dishonest, constantly looking for a personal gain, and sometimes downright racist.

Nothing made EJ’s blood boil faster than having to defend himself from the prejudice against the Slytherin house.

“No,” he spat back at Ashlyn, starting to collect his things “He deserved it. Ask him, if you don’t believe it.”

Ashlyn bit her lip, mortified.

“Hey, I wasn’t trying to say you were just being a jerk” she retreated “I just… we all saw you two at breakfast the other day…”

“Forget about it” EJ sighed, fastening the straps of his bag and carrying it on his shoulder; he waited for Ashlyn to do the same and then they walked together out of the library, nodding a silent thank you to Madame Pince’s assistant for letting them stay after closing hours.

“Have you heard from Cordelia?” Ashlyn asked, once they were in the corridor. EJ immediately felt his spirit lift and walked her towards the Ravenclaw Tower.

“Yeah, she writes twice a week” he laughed softly to himself, thinking about the box of letters he kept on his bedside table, his personal talisman against bad days and stressful thoughts “I miss her like crazy.”

“You’ll see her soon” Ashlyn pushed lightly with her shoulder against his, offering a comforting smile and then parting ways once they reached a flight of stairs “Night, cousin. Try not to give Ricky too hard a time, alright?”

At that point, EJ didn’t restrain himself from a dramatic eye-roll.

“It’s me you should be rooting for, Ash. I’m the victim here, don’t you see it?”

Ashlyn disappeared up the stairs with a sigh and EJ shook his head, letting his thoughts run free while he made his way down to the dungeons.

You and Ricky alone in the Potions classroom for three hours on a Friday night. Good luck on this one, EJ.

Friday, November 6^th
Potions Classroom

EJ knew that Ricky wasn’t going to like the idea of having him supervise his punishment, but the horrified look on the Gryffindor’s face when he entered the classroom in the dungeons was a little offensive.

“What are you doing here?” Ricky exclaimed, as if he’d just found an Acromantula sitting behind Slughorn’s desk.

“I’m atoning for the sins of my past life, apparently” he replied flatly, and almost did a double take when he noticed Ricky’s lips quiver as the boy attempted to repress a smile. It must have been a trick of the light, he aggressively reminded himself, pointedly ignoring the sudden flutter in his stomach.

“You must have been a really bad person in your past life, then” Ricky commented, walking inside the classroom and slumping against the wall.

“Or a very unlucky one in this life” EJ gestured towards the center of the classroom, where mops and buckets had been left for Ricky “The sooner you start, the sooner you finish, and then we’ll both be free from this torment.”

Ricky glared at him while he went to grab a bucket and fill it with water from the stone sinks in the corner.

“You’re just sitting there, enjoying my lovely company. How is this a torment for you?”

“Everything about you is a torment for me, Bowen.” EJ replied without thinking, and immediately felt his heart sink. He closed his eyes, cheeks burning, and hoped the ground would swallow him whole. There’s a chance he hasn’t heard you.

But Ricky had heard him for sure. EJ risked a look at him and saw the boy stiffened over the buckets, eyes wide and avoiding his gaze.

Merlin’s shit.

Then Ricky cleared his throat and straightened back up, giving EJ one of his trademark cheeky smiles that melted the sudden tension like butter on hot toast.

“Serves you right for giving me detention,” he said, rolling up the sleeves of his baggy muggle hoodie “I hope you’ll think better of it next time.”

“I hope for you there won’t be a next time” EJ retorted immediately, relieved that they were back on their usual banter “It’s barely past Halloween, and somehow you’ve already lost your house seventy precious points.”

“Hey, you’ve been keeping count,” Ricky snickered. “Should I be flattered?”

“Depends. Are you trying to break every single one of the school rules before your N.E.W.T.s? Because you’re on excellent track, in that case.”

EJ had no idea what was going on, all of a sudden. Why was he smiling at Ricky Bowen? And more importantly, why was Ricky Bowen smiling back? They were fighting, weren’t they?

“Don’t tempt me,” said Ricky, pointing his sponge at him “I find it really hard to resist to challenges.”

“Get to work” scoffed EJ, mildly horrified at how he just couldn’t stop smiling. There was something incredibly endearing in the way Ricky talked to him, a glint of mischief in his eyes, almost as if he were trying to flirt.

He tried to concentrate on the Herbology book he was supposed to study for extra reading, but he couldn’t stop sending quick looks at Ricky, who was working on the cabinet of old potions with a look of disgust on his face. Ricky was not trying to flirt with him. He didn’t know much about his personal life, but he’d always assumed that he was dating Nini Salazar-Roberts, the Hufflepuff prefect. He knew he wasn’t dating his red-haired friend, because the guy had an obvious crush on Ashlyn, but in any case, he doubted someone like Ricky would be single for long. He had enough charm to get anyone in Hogwarts.

A bitter taste filled EJ’s mouth and he realized with renewed disconcert that his thoughts had spiraled down a path so dangerous he was terrified to discover where it might lead him. He shot another look at Ricky, who was now humming the notes to an unknown song while scrubbing the inside of a cabinet, and angrily turned a page in his book.

EJ spent the next two hours doing his best to ignore Ricky while he cleaned the Potions classroom in the noisiest way he could, making it impossible for him to read more than two paragraphs in a row. Occasionally he commented on the old potions he found stored in the cabinets (“Look, this is my Shrinking solution from third year! I think I got a D for this one… It might have been poisonous. But after all this time it might have circled back to perfection!” He’d commented, studying the vial. “If you die under my watch, I promise I will resurrect you just to murder you with my own hands, Bowen.”), but mostly he just sang absent-mindedly to himself. EJ thought he had a lovely voice and realized that listening to him was making incredibly relaxed; which was why he almost had a heart attack, when a loud crack broke the silence like the shot of a Killing Curse.

Ricky screamed, backing down from the low, dusty cabinet he’d just opened. He stumbled on the bucket and fell to the floor, soaking in the spilled water; EJ followed his horrified gaze and jumped to his feet, drawing his wand in a swift motion.

A woman had appeared in the dimly lit room, beside the row of cabinets that Ricky had been scrubbing. She was tall and dark-haired and looked down at Ricky with a grimace of indifference. She took a step towards him and the boy crawled back, almost hitting his head on the leg of a desk: his eyes were round with fear, and he kept them glued to the woman’s face. EJ took aim, a Stupefy ready on his lips, when…

“Mum?” Ricky whispered.

What the fuck?

“Don’t give me that look” said the woman, in a cold voice “You knew this was about to happen anyway.”

“No” Ricky’s lips were trembling “No, please.”

“I’m going to leave. I have to. And I’m not coming back this time.”

Ricky’s face was pale with shock and he looked about to crumble under the words of this woman who was bending over him, suffocating him with his own fear. EJ tried to make sense of the scene before his eyes, but he couldn’t: how could have Ricky’s muggle mother materialized in the middle of the Potions classroom all of a sudden?

EJ watched the boy stare at his mother as if she were the embodiment of his greatest fear come to life to torture him.

Wait - that was it!

EJ ran over to the center of the room and planted himself in front of Ricky, aiming his wand at the figure in front of him. For a moment confusion flashed on the woman’s face, but before the creature had the time to realize the shift in the situation, EJ shouted out his spell.

“RIDDIKULUS!”

There was another loud crack and the Boggart vanished, leaving behind a puff of purple smoke and a distinct smell of rotten eggs. EJ took a moment to recollect himself, before he turned to face Ricky.

The boy was a mess: his whole body was shaking, and he’d hidden his face in his hands, but EJ could still see tears glistening between his fingers. Feeling his chest tighten, he slowly crouched down beside him, not caring about the water soaking his trousers.

“Hey” he spoke softly, not daring to touch him “Ricky. It’s okay, it was just a Boggart. It’s gone now. It’s alright.”

Biting his lip, EJ gently placed his hand on Ricky’s shoulder; he felt him tense for a moment, but he didn’t push him away.

“Ricky, it’s alright. It wasn’t real.”

Ricky’s neck suddenly snapped up and he looked at him, his eyes red and tearful. He looked like he was about to retort, but then thought better of it, and said nothing. EJ’s hand fell to his lap and he waited, unsure of what to say. Just as he was about to suggest he call Nini, or Big Red, or any other of his actual friends, Ricky spoke.

“That was a Boggart?” He asked in a hoarse voice. EJ pretended not to look while he hastily rubbed his eyes and busied himself with a spell that dried their clothes from the spilled water.

“Yeah. It must have been hiding in that cupboard for ages.” He looked at Ricky again “None of that was real, Ricky. It was just trying to scare you.”

“Yeah well, it felt pretty real” hissed Ricky through gritted teeth. He clenched his fists around the fabric of his orange hoodie and hunched his shoulders, as if he were trying to protect himself from a blow.

EJ racked his brain in search of the right words to comfort him, but it was like trying to pinch a limb after he’d fallen asleep on it: he felt completely numb and inadequate.

“Do you want to talk about it?” was all he managed to come up with.

Ricky shook his head but made no sign of wanting to get up from the floor either.

“I mean” EJ rambled “When I said this was going to be a torment, I didn’t mean it quite so literally."

Shut up, you idiot. This isn’t something you can downplay like this.

But apparently Ricky wasn’t of that idea. His lips curved in the barest hint of a smile, and he turned to face EJ.

“I’m always full of surprises, EJ.” He offered tiredly. EJ felt his stomach give a weird flutter, but he shot it down quickly. There were more pressing matters to take care of before he could ponder his feelings about him and Ricky being on first name basis.

“Are you OK?” He asked. “I can go find Nini, if you want.”

“I’m fine” Ricky shrugged “It was just a Boggart. Give me a minute and I’ll finish up.”

EJ took a good look at his red-rimmed eyes, his pale fingers still grabbing his hoodie like a shield to hide behind and scoffed.

“You can go, Ricky. There’s no need for you to finish anything.”

Ricky looked at him with disbelief, and EJ noticed his cheeks mysteriously regain a little color; he pulled himself up and offered Ricky a hand to help him stand. EJ felt a spark of heat shoot through his fingers when Ricky grabbed his hand, but the contact was broken after a couple seconds.

“Thank you” said Ricky, cheeks definitely red now “For… I mean… and…”

“It’s okay” EJ replied quickly. “No problem at all.”

Ricky shuffled his feet, unsure, and EJ had to fight the physical need to invite him for a hug. He was as tall as him, but he looked incredibly small and fragile, swallowed by that huge orange hoodie. EJ stuck his hands in his pockets, and Ricky took a step back.

“Right. Could you not like… tell anyone what happened?” He murmured, looking straight at a point above EJ’s shoulder.

“Of course.” EJ assured him and offered a tentative smile. Ricky nodded once and made his way to the door; he paused for a second to shoot EJ a quick look.

“Goodnight, EJ,” he whispered.

“Goodnight Ricky,” tried EJ, but the boy had already disappeared in the corridor. His words hung in the sudden silence, and EJ was left with nothing that could retain the tsunami tides of thoughts crashing on the walls of his mind.

Chapter Text

Monday, November 9^th (at lunchtime)
Charms Classroom

It would have been an understatement to say that Ricky’s weekend had been uneventful. After failing to fall asleep until the crack of dawn following Friday night’s encounter with the Boggart in the Potions classroom, he’d collapsed and slept through the day, only waking up shortly before dinnertime. Sunday hadn’t been much different: he’d declined Big Red’s offer to hang with Ashlyn, Nini, and the others claiming that he had too much homework to do, and he’d spent the day holed up in the boys’ dormitory at the top of Gryffindor Tower.

Now that the week had started again and Ricky had no choice but to rejoin the rest of the student body, he’d decided that the best method to cope with the crippling anxiety that had been boiling under his skin since Friday night was… to ignore it altogether. Thinking about the Boggart that had turned into his mother was bad enough without adding the knowledge that EJ had witnessed the whole thing: the mere memory of what had happened was enough to make Ricky’s breath hitch in his throat. He didn’t think he was ready to face him again anytime soon; avoiding Nini’s worried questioning about his disappearance and the deep circles under his eyes had been hard, and he was thankful for the two hours of Muggle Studies first thing in the morning, where none of his friends were able to follow him. 

Ricky looked up from his desk when the door behind the teacher’s desk opened and Miss Jenn entered the classroom, giving a start when she noticed him. 

“Ricky!” She pressed a hand to her chest and immediately made her way towards him “I wasn’t expecting you here. Why are you not at lunch?”

Ricky gave a non-committal shrug, avoiding the teacher’s gaze. It wasn’t the first time he’d wanted a break from the Great Hall, and Miss Jenn had always been kind enough to let him stay in her classroom during these occasions. Ricky just had to provide her with some of the Haribo candies his father regularly sent him, which Miss Jenn always said reminded her of her muggle childhood.

 “I wanted to work on my project,” he said, showing the teacher his work. Miss Jenn bent over his shoulder to study the old iPhone model he had picked apart. 

“Are you trying to charm the single components?” She guessed, with a glint of interest “You know there’s too much magic around here for muggle tech to work.”

“I know.” Ricky prodded at one of the chips with the point of his wand, producing a few yellow sparks “But I figured that magic is a sort of energy that flows through a source of power, right? Like our bodies, and wands. Electricity is not that different, I think there might be a way to make it work.”

Ricky gave Miss Jenn a hopeful look - this Charms project was his only chance at saving his overall appalling grade average - and he was pleased to see his favorite teacher looking at him as if he were the first prize of the lottery and she was holding the winning ticket. 

“You’re a very smart boy, Ricky,” she praised him. “I’m sure if you’ll find a solution.”

Ricky ducked his head, trying not to look too smug. No other teacher ever called him smart - not that he gave them much reason to do so - and it was a nice confidence boost, for a change. 

“Still,” Miss Jenn pressed on, “I don’t think it’s necessary for you to give up your lunch breaks over this. Food is your power source, don’t forget that!”

Ricky kept his eyes on the dismantled iPhone before him, wondering about what to say next. He liked Miss Jenn a lot: she was always in tune with her students’ moods, and she never pressed an issue when she noticed something was up with them, instead encouraging them to channel their emotions into the charms they were producing. He’d taken an instant liking to her when, back in first year, he’d arrived late at her first class and instead of giving him detention she’d showed him to his seat and then proceeded to tell the class that they would have to call her Miss Jenn instead of ‘professor’.

“I had sort of a bad couple days,” he said carefully “I kind of felt… overwhelmed.”  

“You know you can always come here to unwind if that’s what you need,” Miss Jenn replied, her brows furrowed. “But don’t forget that isolating yourself is never the solution, Ricky. You have good friends: talk to them about what’s bothering you.”

Ricky stared absent-mindedly at the golden embroidery that ran down the sleeve of the light blue witch’s robe Miss Jenn was wearing. He usually went to Nini to talk about his parents, because she was always understanding and had the ability to talk him down whenever his thoughts got a little too tangled. But the last thing he wanted to do was talk about his Boggart, because that would have entailed another conversation, that led him to another problem, not quite as depressing as his parents' failing marriage, but very urgent nonetheless. 

“Miss Jenn” he questioned, struck by a sudden inspiration. “What would you do if something weird happened with you and… a person… and you had to face them and didn’t really know what to do because this person might think differently of you now?” 

Ricky knew he’d made a terrible job of voicing his feelings and there was no way Miss Jenn wouldn’t interpret this the wrong way: still, he soldiered through the embarrassment and tried to maintain a façade of polite curiosity.

“Is this person a friend?” inquired Miss Jenn, arms crossed over her chest while she leaned against the desk in front of Ricky’s.

“Not really, no” Ricky gulped, and tried not to think of how his heart had somersaulted in his chest when EJ had comforted him after getting rid of the Boggart.

“Well then, I’d say you have two ways to approach the problem.” said Miss Jenn pragmatically, lifting two fingers. “One, you can get this person alone and straight up talk about what makes you feel weird. Honest communication is usually the solution to most problems in relationships.” 

Ricky didn’t hide his grimace, unsure of what made him more uncomfortable: honest communication or relationship.

“Two” continued Miss Jenn, unperturbed “You could be a little more subtle. If you are the first to initiate a contact with said person, you can make sure it’s on your own terms. And hopefully the other person will follow your lead.”

She smiled as Ricky took in her words, reflecting on them. This wasn’t such a bad idea: he could wait to casually meet EJ in the corridors and run the risk of facing embarrassment and awkwardness in front of other people. For some reason, he was sure EJ would have disliked that just as much as him. Or he could take control of the situation and face the dragon fangs-first, the Gryffindor way.

“I’ll try,” he conceded “Thank you, Miss Jenn.”

The witch gifted him with a bright smile, waving theatrically the wide sleeves of her robe. 

“And remember Ricky, don’t overthink it too much: don’t give yourself the time to get scared.”

Ricky nodded and stared ahead, contemplating the outline of an idea that had already started to form in his head.

Tuesday, November 10th
Hogwarts Library

It was with a sense of determinate purpose that Ricky strode into the Hogwarts Library, earning a reproachful look from Madame Pince. The librarian was said to be as ancient as the school itself, but the years seemed to have refined her impeccable instincts to spot noisemakers, rather than diminish them. Ricky had never spent much time in the library during his time at Hogwarts, but he knew who did: he looked behind every row of shelves, heart pounding loud in his chest, but he forced himself not to start thinking too much, or he might have lost the nerve to go through with what he’d planned. 

Behind the last bookshelf Ricky finally spotted EJ at the table near the window, bent over what appeared to be a mountain of complicated schemes and tables of numbers. Ricky had never really grasped why people bothered to study Arithmancy, since everyone seemed to think it was closer to torture than magic; not nearly as fun as Charms, that was for sure.

He approached the boy without hesitation, gulping down the nerves: he hadn’t seen EJ once since Friday, because he was just as good at avoiding him as he was at making sure he’d casually catch him in trouble. 

“Yo Caswell!” he said, standing tall in front of him and all but smashing the heavy book he’d been carrying on top of the Arithmancy notes.

The candlelight made EJ’s eyes shine greener than usual when the Slytherin looked up at him, seemingly lost for words. Ricky held his breath: he was counting on the fact that EJ wouldn’t want to recall the Boggart Incident either, that the weird tension between them should be swept under a carpet in the most remote room of the castle and never brought up again. But then again, there was also a part of him that couldn’t stop replaying the scene in his head - and surprisingly, not just the terrifying parts.

“What is this?”

After what felt like an eternity, EJ looked down at the book with an expression of pure contempt. Ricky felt like the hippogriff that had been sitting on his chest since the weekend had finally took flight, and he could breathe normally again.

“I am surprised you don’t know.” The smile that bloomed on Ricky’s face felt way more natural than he’d have expected “You see, I couldn’t sleep last night so I decided to get into a bit of reading.”

EJ stared him down, skepticism painted all over his face. 

“Did you finally fall from your deathtrap on wheels and hit your head?” he replied, “This is the school rules book.”

Ricky felt the grin on his face grow bigger: this was easy, even fun. Their back-and-forths were the safest ground he could tread with EJ, and Miss Jenn had been right in suggesting him to make the first move.

“Funny you should mention my skateboard” Ricky enjoyed himself immensely when he saw a crease appear between EJ’s brows at the mention of it “Because that’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“You interrupted me while I was studying for pre-N.E.W.T.s Arithmancy assessment to talk about your skateboard.” EJ clasped his hands together, giving Ricky a cloying smile “This must be my lucky day.”

“Oh, it is,” Ricky bit his lip and did not notice how for a split second EJ’s eyes traveled down to follow the motion “Because I’ll be saving you from a great deal of trouble.”

EJ’s interested was sparkled at these words and he drew a little closer, glancing at him with suspicion. 

“What in the name of Merlin are you talking about?”

Ricky fished his wand from his pocket and twirled it between his fingers, relishing for a moment at the satisfaction of having the Slytherin Head Boy hanging from his lips… then an image formed in his mind and Ricky’s wand slipped from his fingers, fell on the school rules book, and gave sparkles that almost set it in flames. EJ quickly grabbed the wand and made sure to extinguish the sparks.

“Dear Salazar…” breathed EJ, handing Ricky the wand; he took it without looking him in the eyes, thanking the stars that EJ wasn’t a Legilimens. “What were you saying about saving me from trouble, Ricky?”

If the image of EJ kissing him that had flashed into his mind had been enough to startle Ricky, hearing him calling his name was definitely no better. In a moment of uncertain tension Ricky was brought back to the dungeons, to EJ’s soft voice after he’d banished the Boggart for him, how soothing his presence had been for his shattered nerves…

“I was saying, EJ,” Ricky wasn’t going to be outdone by a Slytherin, and wanted to prove he too had no problem in switching to first names. “That I read the school rules, and I found out some very interesting fact.”

EJ did nothing to hide his disbelief. 

“I’m sorry, you read the school rules book? All of it, in one night?” 

“More or less” Ricky shrugged “I skimmed it, actually. Look.” 

EJ’s eyes were trailed on him like an animal eying a prey; Ricky cleared his voice and tapped his wand on the cover of the book, saying: 

“Find uniform.”

The book snapped open on a page that had the word ‘uniform’ in the title: the letters were glowing slightly, making it stand out from the others. 

“Next” commanded Ricky, tapping the page with his wand again, and while the first word stopped glowing, the same thing happened to another ‘uniform’ written a couple paragraphs down. Ricky demonstrated it again, showing how his spell could find words in different pages of the book; when he looked at EJ, it was with a warm sense of satisfaction that he noticed how the boy couldn’t hide how impressed he was.

“Now, look closely” Ricky bit down his smile because he knew EJ wasn’t going to like this “Find skateboard.”

The pages turned quickly in a flurry of dusty parchment, but after a few seconds the book snapped tightly shut, scaring away a spider that crawled back under the table.

“See? Nothing” Ricky was full on grinning now “This means, of course, that there is no rule in the school manual against riding a skateboard in Hogwarts.”

EJ opened his mouth and closed it again, in furious disbelief. 

“I will gladly accept your apology for giving me detention without really having a right to it, and don’t worry, just for this time I won’t tell Headmaster Flitwick.” Ricky pushed his hands in his pockets, waiting for EJ to snap out of his indignation. His reaction had been exactly what he’d hoped: he witnessed the boy’s face turn very pale at first, then faint pink, until finally his cheeks matched the color of Ricky’s Gryffindor tie.

Fuming, EJ pulled the book to himself regardless of his notes flying in all directions, and angrily tapped with his wand on the cover.

“Find corridors” he hissed. Ricky swung on his heels while the pages turned; of course, EJ would make the spell work at first try. With a pull to his chest, he realized this was the first time someone else had used one of the spells he’d invented, and a mixed feeling of pride and excitement rushed over him. For a second he thought about interrupting EJ and telling him, and maybe show off a bit more by letting him know about his Charms project, but then EJ’s fingers pointed aggressively at a paragraph in the book and Ricky snapped out of his fantasy and into their bickering again.

“Here. I know actual reading may be a concept you’re not too familiar with, but this is what the rules really say: Students are not permitted to use magic, run, or cause any kind of ruckus in the school corridors during classes and at any other times.” EJ read, his voice barely more than a growl, and when he looked at Ricky again, the flames reflected in his eyes gave him a slightly inhuman appearance. It might have been terrifying, if only he hadn’t been so handsome.

“I regret to inform you, Bowen, that riding a glorified scrap of self-propelled wood definitely counts as causing ruckus!”

Ricky simply shrugged his shoulders.

“Semantics.”

“Keep your skateboard out of the corridors, or I’ll be requesting a meeting with the Headmaster to have a rule written down specifically to ban you.” EJ handed him the book back and Ricky hugged it to his chest as if it were a pillow. 

“That’s harsh, and a little discriminatory” he teased “If you’re going to make posters with my face and write that I’m the Undesirable Number One, I should tell you that you might face some backlash.”

Ricky had intended it as a joke, but he noticed EJ’s smile freeze on his face.

“I wasn’t planning on going that far” he replied coldly, and didn’t look at Ricky while he started to recollect his notes. Ricky realized that he must have inadvertently hit a nerve with that joke, and now the atmosphere of playful taunting had been ruined: he felt strangely guilty and disappointed at the same time. Just to do something with himself, he bent down to retrieve one of the sheets of parchment that had fallen off the table.

“Here, you missed this.”

Ricky wasn’t nosey, but he couldn’t help but notice that it was a letter: his eyes zeroed in on the last two lines. 

… back in France! I really miss you, and I can’t wait to see you. 

Lots of love, 

Cordelia

Ricky handed the letter to EJ, and the boy relaxed immediately when he took it back. Now that he thought about it, he realized he’d never seen him with such a soft expression before: EJ was always guarded, a little haughty sometimes, and he’d been kind to him on Friday night when comforting him about the Boggart, but this… this was something else. Whoever this Cordelia girl was, EJ must love her dearly. 

And no, Ricky was not gulping down the bitter sips of jealousy, thank you very much.

Once EJ had let him off with another stern remark about his rule-breaking activities, Ricky felt his feet halt to a stop behind the row of bookshelf where EJ couldn’t really see him. He didn’t know what kept him there, but he watched as EJ studied the heavy book before him with intense concentration. He took out his wand, tapped it lightly on the cover and said, 

“Find Celtic Numerology.”

The book immediately snapped open: EJ shook his head, an amazed smile on his lips, and began to read the page, candlelight dancing on his face.

Thursday, November 12^th
The Quidditch Field

Gina’s fingers were starting to feel numb around the handle of her broomstick as the Slytherin’s team practice entered its third consecutive hour, but she gritted her teeth and flew around the Quidditch field once again. The sky was now pitch black, and if EJ released another snitch for her to capture, she doubted she’d be able to see anything.

The sharp blow of EJ’s whistle pierced the darkness like an arrow, but it was met by a chorus of relieved shouts by the rest of the team: Gina aimed her Silverbolt towards the ground in a dive that earned her an impressed shout from Frances, the Slytherin Keeper, and landed gracefully on the muddy ground.

“Show off!” jeered Evelyn, a pretty brunette who played as Chaser. Gina returned her cold, fake smile: if Evelyn were able to fly like her, no doubt she’d be showing off too. It was important to remind her fellow teammates that just because she was the last addition to the team, she was not one to step on.

“Great job, team!” EJ gratified them with a satisfied smile and looked straight at Gina, nodding almost imperceptibly to signal her that yes, he’d heard the comment, and no, he didn’t think she was showing off “Let’s go on like this and we’ll crush Gryffindor in February.”

Another cry of enthusiasm accompanied the team as they made their way towards the changing rooms. 

“We’re going to have practices like these until February?” groaned Frances “You know it’s only November right?” 

EJ kept the door open for everyone and stared the team down with one of his trademark stern frowns.

“I don’t think I need to remind you that Gryffindor crushed Hufflepuff in their last match” he said, looking at every member of the team. 

“No shit,” commented Charles, one of the Beaters, crossing his large biceps over his chest “Hufflepuff sucks. They could have had Flobberworms wearing their uniforms and no one would have been able to spot the difference.” 

The team shared snickers and even though EJ did his best to remain impassible, Gina saw the glint in his eyes; after all, she agreed. Roxanne Weasley had put together a very good team for Gryffindor, but Hufflepuff was an easy prey: Gina had noticed how sloppy Malcom Fletcher’s - Gryffindor’s seeker - flying ability was, and she couldn’t wait to play them. She would have that idiot bite her dust.

“Exactly” said EJ, finally letting a smile on his face “This is by far the best team in school, and I won’t let laziness and arrogance stand between us and the Quidditch Cup.”

“Yeah!” Frances jumped on his Captain and ruffled his hair enthusiastically “That’s our captain!”

Gina smiled to herself while she changed out of her green Quidditch robes: she was glad EJ was her Captain. He’d let her try out for the team the previous year even though nobody knew her - that apparently was a prerequisite to get into the Quidditch team - and then he’d had no second thoughts about replacing the other Seeker with her, once she’d proven her talent. 

“I don’t care if you were here before, Nott! I want to lead Slytherin to the Quidditch Cup, and she’s a better Seeker than you. Deal with it.”

 Gina cast EJ a sideways glance, noticing that the rest of the team had already left the changing rooms. 

“Hey,” she said, to catch his attention. “You know we’re going to win, right?”

EJ looked up from the playbook he was going over, and it took him a couple of seconds to register her words.

“Oh. Yeah, I really hope we do,” he looked a little hesitant, and Gina knew why: this was his last chance at winning the cup, and after the drama that had caused Slytherin to lose the Cup to Gryffindor by a mere thirty points the previous year, he must really be desperate to prove his worth as Captain.

“We will,” she propped her broomstick on her shoulders and made her way towards the door “But only if our Captain doesn’t collapse from overworking himself. Take it easy, alright?”

“Overworking is what non-lazy people, like me, call making an effort” he said proudly, straightening his shoulders. Gina shook her head and waved him off, already dreaming of her warm bed in the Slytherin dormitories, but she stopped in surprise as soon as she stepped out of the changing rooms.

“Ricky?” 

“Yo, Genie” her best friend raised his fist to greet her, waiting for her to bump it, but she didn’t. 

“Don’t call me that” she growled, squinting her eyes dangerously at him. Ricky flashed her a cheeky smile, perfectly composed, and sunk his hands back in the pockets of his red hoodie. 

“What are you doing here, anyway?” She questioned him. 

Ricky’s smile didn’t falter, but Gina saw the momentarily glance he took at the door of the changing rooms.

“Came to bring you those notes you wanted on Cheering Charms” he said, fishing two battered rolls of parchment from an inside pocket of his winter cloak, which he wore over the hoodie with no care whatsoever. As she took the rolls of parchment and scanned the messy notes, Gina couldn’t help but wonder if the unfortunate choice of clothing couldn’t have been caused by a rush to get out of the Gryffindor dorms.

“And here I was, hoping you’d finally overcome your aversion for broomsticks. Thanks, though,” she lifted her eyebrows “You couldn’t have waited to give them to me tomorrow morning because…?”

“Because I felt like taking a walk, and when I saw from the common room that you guys were training I decided to kill two birds with one stone.” He supplied innocently. 

“Right” Gina wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily, because she knew Ricky far too well not to recognize the nervous shift of his feet: he wore his heart on his sleeve, and that made him the worst liar she knew.

“That, and the fact that Gryffindor Tower is not exactly the best place for me right now.” Ricky scratched the back of his head, a note of defiance in his tone “My housemates aren’t too happy with me at the moment.”

“I wonder why.” Gina raised her eyebrows: she doubted any Gryffindor had been so persistent in losing that many house points since Harry Potter and his subversive resistance against Dolores Umbridge.

Before she could continue though, Gina heard the door of the changing rooms creak open, and the reaction she observed in Ricky was by far the most interesting thing she’d seen that night. Ricky’s eyes widened all of a sudden and he violently sunk his hands to the bottom of his pockets, as if to ground himself. EJ, still in his Quidditch robes and Fireboltin hand, hesitated on the threshold before closing the door behind him.

“I don’t even know why I’m surprised to find you where you shouldn’t be,” he greeted Ricky, who suddenly appeared to be glowing.

“We both know there are no rules against standing outside the Quidditch pitch, EJ” he teased, and a small smile tugged at EJ’s lips.

“Certainly, you would know,” he replied. Gina tried to blend in with the darkness, taking in as much as she could of this bizarre exchange. Since when did EJ and Ricky - who notoriously couldn’t spend two minutes in the same room with each other without trying to piss off one another - have inside jokes?

“Plus, it’s not even curfew.” Ricky pressed on, extremely pleased with himself. “So there’s nothing wrong with me coming down here to escort a lady through the darkness.”

He slung his arm around Gina’s shoulders and she tried to step on his foot in retaliation: if any of them needed to be escorted, surely it wasn’t her.

“Oh,” said EJ, a forced smile on his face as his eyes darted between the two of them “Oh, alright. I’ll leave you to it, then. Goodnight.”

He sped past them towards the castle, and Gina wondered if she’d only imagined the poisonous look EJ had shot her. Beside her, Ricky’s gaze trailed EJ’s steps, and the boy looked taken aback by how suddenly the exchange had been cut short. Gina allowed him five seconds to follow his undoubtedly derailed train of thoughts.

“I have so many questions.” She informed him, starting to walk across the pitch-black grounds towards the castle. Ahead, EJ had already disappeared into the darkness, and Ricky lit the tip of his wand without needing to pronounced the spell out loud. 

“Good for you” Ricky gave her a quick smile “Miss Jenn always says that unless your head is full of questions, you’ll never be able to get an interesting answer.”

“Miss Jenn should leave the witty mottos to Professor Mazzara - he’s the head of Ravenclaw.” she quipped back “And don’t try to deflect. What in Morgana’s name was that?” 

“I don’t know” Ricky shrugged “He seemed a bit angry, didn’t he?”

“I - I guess,” Gina listened to the wet sound of their shoes on the damp grass, unsure of how to play this. She knew it was almost impossible to get Ricky to acknowledge his feelings without direct confrontation, so she decided for brutality: “Ricky, did you come here because you wanted to meet EJ?”

“No!” Ricky shook his head frantically, close to panic, then recollected himself “Of course not. I told you! Why would you think that?”

He didn’t meet her eyes when she looked skeptically at him.

“Ricky, it’s not exactly a secret that EJ is constantly catching you in trouble. Just last week, it’s happened, what, four times? How many points have you lost Gryffindor so far this year, exactly?”

“One hundred and fifteen” mumbled Ricky, ashamed “EJ’s been keeping count.”

Gina pressed her lips together and, because she was a good friend, she didn’t point out that until the detention they’d had together two weeks before, EJ had always been ‘Caswell’ to him. And vice versa.

“Is this some kind of weird mating technique you’re experimenting?” She asked quietly; Ricky’s face, already pale in the faint moonlight, lost what little color it had.

“No! Gina, come on…” he protested. “I’m just fooling around, it’s all. It’s fun to piss him off.”

“He’s taken over one hundred points from you,” Gina pressed on, not quite believing the state of denial her friend was currently in. Did he really not see it? “There are much healthier ways to talk to someone than tricking them into giving you detentions, you know?”

“You’ve got this all wrong” they reached the stone steps to the entrance of the castle and Ricky preceded her, waving his wand to turn the light off “That’s not what I’m doing. I don’t even like him.”

Gina had to repress a smile: that was a blatant lie, and Ricky gave it away completely by staring intently at his own feet while walking across the hallway.

“Really? Why not?” She asked, and watched his ears redden all of a sudden. 

“He’s conceited, uptight and unnerving,” he replied, still not looking at her “Plus I think he’s got a thing against Muggle stuff. He hates my skateboard.”

Gina laughed incredulously, stopping in front of the passage that led to the dungeons.

“Yeah, EJ’s against Muggles now,” she scoffed. “The same EJ who kicked one of his Chasers off of the Quidditch team one week before the final game because he’d been making racist comments against some of the Gryffindor players.”

Ricky’s eyes widened at the words, and he listened as she recalled the shouting match in the middle of a practice, the way Frances and Charles had had to Disarm both EJ and Lancel Ross before they started straight up dueling each other; Lancel had left the pitch fuming, and when Slytherin had lost the match because of the inexperience of the Reserve Chaser, EJ had had to watch his back against the ambushes from angry housemates for weeks. But he’d never backed down from his choice, and that had made Gina realize what a good Captain looked like.

“I didn’t know that” murmured Ricky. Gina thought he looked like he’d just witnessed the birth of a baby unicorn and shook her head. 

“Trust me, EJ hates your skateboard because you keep trying to run him over with it in the corridors,” she smiled at him. “Merlin, I’d hate it too. You can be pretty unnerving yourself when you want, you know that?”

“Someone would call it ‘charming’” he replied, winking exaggeratedly at her. 

“Not me” she mused, making her way towards the dungeons as Ricky took off in the opposite direction “But who knows? Maybe EJ does!”

Gina ran away to the sound of Ricky’s indignant splutter, laughing. 

Oh, Merlin. This is going to be interesting.

Chapter Text

Saturday, November 28th
Hogsmeade High Street

The air was frosty on the Saturday morning when Hogwarts students assembled at the school gates to have their names checked on Mr. Filch’s list, before they were allowed to leave for Hogsmeade. The excited chatter and the squelch of hundreds of footsteps along the muddy grounds had been loud enough to reach the window of the Library, where EJ had been since the first hours of dawn. He’d decided to capitalize on the fact that other students tended to have a lie in on the weekend to get ahead on some studying, and only when he’d noticed the stream of black cloaks flowing towards the gates that led out of the school, he’d remembered that it was supposed to be a Hogsmeade weekend. 

EJ had stood transfixed at the window, staring at his schoolmates while a creeping sense of emptiness tore a hole in his stomach, and he felt like a weight was dragging him down to the bottom of the Dark Lake. It was a Hogsmeade weekend, and he hadn’t remembered because he had no one he could go with, anyway.

He had stood like a statue for a couple of minutes before hastily recollecting all his books, bringing them back to his room in the Slytherin dorms, and finally making his way across the school grounds towards the path that led to the village. 

It was one of those moments when EJ didn’t really feel like he was living inside his body, but more like he was a silent observer of what was happening around him, as if he weren’t really part of the world along with everyone else. He spotted Carlos and Seb coming out of Honeydukes hand in hand, sharing what appeared to be a Deluxe couple-sized Sugar Quill, and thought about saying hello, but then he changed his mind. They weren’t really his friends, were they? They were Ashlyn’s, and he only knew them because he sometimes hung with her in the Great Hall when she was in their company. 

It appeared that, despite being Head Boy, Captain of the Quidditch Team, and a straight O student, EJ didn’t really have any friends. 

Or perhaps it is precisely because you are Head Boy, Captain of the Quidditch Team, and everything else, that you have no time left for making friends?

A bitter taste filled EJ’s mouth as he strode along the street, eyes zeroing on the profile of Frances Oakes and Nelson James, Slytherin’s Chaser and Beater, through the window of the Three Broomsticks. He used to be friends with them: after all, they’d shared a room in the Slytherin dormitories for six years, and he’d selected both of them for the team when he’d become Captain. But they never really forgave him for kicking Lancel off and losing the match, and since the Head Boy got a single room separated from the rest of his classmates, he rarely saw them outside of class, and he reckoned that hadn’t helped preventing their relationship from cooling off. 

They respect you, EJ told himself, if they don’t like you, so be it. 

He huffed out a sigh, adjusting his Slytherin scarf to protect his mouth and nose from the chilly November air. As he looked up to the grey sky, he realized there was one more reason that had been keeping him out of the Slytherin common room in the past few weeks. 

EJ smiled against the soft wool of his scarf, remembering the run-in he’d had with Ricky two nights before.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or are you really walking like a normal person?” EJ stopped in front of the Gryffindor who was just coming out of a passage behind a tapestry that led to the seventh floor. He was sure he hadn’t imagined the way Ricky’s eyes had lit up, and his stomach fluttered uncomfortably.

“Oh, you know,” Ricky was sporting the smirk that EJ had learned to associate to mischievous wrongdoing “When I have comfortable shoes, I really don’t mind giving my skateboard a break.”

He lifted his robes just enough to show EJ a pair of stylish Muggle trainers, blazing red and decidedly nothing like the regulatory black shoes required for the school uniform. 

“Do I even need to remind you that those are not part of your school uniform, and therefore against the school rules?” EJ raised his eyebrows, more intrigued than annoyed at this point. He would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that every morning he woke up wondering about what new way Ricky might have found to not-quite break the school rules. Without fail, Ricky’s grin didn’t falter. 

“I can assure you that the rules say nothing about Vans” he replied confidently. Vans? Was that the name of the shoes? 

“And I can assure you,” EJ replied immediately, feeling energized as if Ricky had lit a spark inside of him that ignited a flow of rustling energy through his body “That the rules clearly say that shoes have to be black.” He inched forward on instinct, excitedly anticipating Ricky’s reply.

“They do not.” Ricky contradicted him and he, too, took a small step towards him “In fact, rules say that shoes have to match the color of the uniform. I do love Gryffindor’s scarlet, you know?”

EJ followed his thumb that pointed at the red and gold tie laced loosely around his neck, and he had to flex his fingers to repress the sudden urge to fix it for him.

No EJ, adjusting Ricky’s tie just to have an excuse to have physical contact with him can’t be easily passed off as Head Boy duty.

Instead, he studied the shoes Ricky was proudly showing off, noticing that the stitches and the metal hoops for laces were bright golden.

“Did you charm your shoes to make them match exactly Gryffindor’s colors?” He asked, half exasperated and half admired at the dedication. Ricky was glowing, apparently delighted that EJ had noticed. 

“I don’t do things half-heartedly,” he replied, then hesitated for a moment; finally he took a small step back, turning towards the stairs “See you, EJ. Sorry you couldn’t take any points off this time.”

EJ’s daydream was cut short when a group of excited third years ran past him and almost pushed him in the mud. He swallowed down an annoyed shout, not wanting to pass off as a younger version of Argus Filch, and aggressively avoided to ask himself where Ricky might be. Maybe he’s with Gina, sneered the voice inside his head, escorting her somewhere nice. EJ bit his tongue to keep the jealousy at bay: Ricky was friendly with everyone and as far as he knew, he and Gina had been friends ever since she’d transferred from Beauxbatons the previous year; just because he’d met her outside the Quidditch pitch one night the previous week, it didn’t mean she was his girlfriend. 

What other reason would he have to leave the comfort of his common room and venture in the cold of the night, then?

EJ stumped past The Three Broomsticks: it had been a bad idea to go to Hogsmeade, he had nothing to do there anyway. He should just go back to school and study in the Library, so he wouldn’t have to pretend he wasn’t searching for Ricky’s mop of curly hair in every head he passed by. 

“Hey! EJ!” 

EJ turned his head, surprised: Nini Salazar-Roberts was waving at him from across the street, right in front of the bright explosion of blue and orange that was Weasley Wizard Wheezes - Hogsmeade Branch. On her right stood Big Red, his ginger hair unmistakable even in the middle of the crowd, and on her left, hands sunk in the pockets of a dark brown leather jacket and a Gryffindor scarf draped on his shoulders, stood Ricky. 

EJ felt like his shoes had been suddenly filled with reinforced concrete as he walked towards them, heart speeding up against his ribcage. 

“Hey,” he gulped and reminded himself to smile like a normal person, not one who’d just found the silver lining in the gloomiest day he’d had in months. A small smile tugged on Ricky’s lips, and EJ supposed the wind must have bitten his cheeks pretty hard, because they matched the scarlet red color of his scarf. 

“What are you doing, all by yourself?” Nini asked, enthusiastic as usual. EJ had to force his eyes away from Ricky’s and hoped his mask of indifference would hold. 

“Nothing much, just having a walk.” He eyed the joke shop behind them and raised his eyebrow at Ricky “You’re not about to replenish your provisions of trickeries, are you? Nini, you’re a prefect, I expected better.” 

Nini smiled guiltily - after all, half of the products sold by the Weasleys had been banned by Filch - but it was Big Red who answered, slinging an arm around Ricky’s neck and making a mess of his hair. 

“Today’s an exception,” He exclaimed happily. “Ricky’s buying himself a birthday present!”

EJ’s eyes widened at Ricky, who was looking uncomfortably at his feet. 

“It’s your birthday?” Ricky nodded sheepishly “I had no idea! Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” Ricky’s cheeks were turning inexplicably brighter, and EJ was thrown off by this unusual behavior. He was - there was no other word for it - he was cute.

“Ricky sort of hates his birthday” Nini supplied helpfully, adjusting her Hufflepuff scarf over the matching yellow winter cloak.

“Yeah, but seventeen is a big one!” Big Red protested, almost affronted at the idea that birthdays could be despised. EJ nodded, in complete agreement: he loved celebrating his birthday. If he’d known that today was Ricky’s he would have…. he…

What? It’s not like you’re friends.

“Not in the Muggle world,” Ricky shrugged “It’s eighteen, the important one.” 

“Sure, but you’re a wizard” Big Red pushed him enthusiastically towards the entrance of the shop “And you need to get yourself a cool present. EJ, you coming?”

EJ flinched in surprise at the spontaneity with which he’d been included in the small party, but Ricky shot him a hopeful look and he didn’t think twice about throwing himself in the crowded shop, elbowing people left and right to avoid getting separated from them. 

When they emerged almost an hour later EJ was holding his stomach, so hard he was laughing. Apparently there was a ritual for birthdays in the Weasleys’ shops: all Big Red had had to do was shout out and point at Ricky, and suddenly the boy had been lifted in the air by an army of trained Cornish Pixies and thrown into a levitating parade of fireworks that projected the number seventeen when they exploded around him. He looked distraught when he landed after a full ten minutes, and he’d run out of the shop with a Pixie still singing Happy birthday in a shrill voice while trying to nest in his hair. 

“Wait – stop!” EJ caught his breath just long enough to take hold of Ricky’s wrist and stopped him from trying to bat away the small winged creature. “Depulso!” He exclaimed, pointing his wand at the Pixie and sending it zooming through the shop door, from which Nini and Big Red had just emerged. 

“This,” fumed Ricky, looking in accusation at his friends “is exactly why I hate my birthday.”

EJ still felt his stomach cramp and he too took in a deep breath - he didn’t even remember when was the last time he’d laughed so hard. 

“You forgot these.” Big Red dumped three orange bags in his arms and Ricky took them grumpily, peeking inside to make sure nothing was broken. 

“Well, this was fun,” smiled Nini “But I have to go now, I’m already late.”

Ricky’s pout disappeared immediately, making way for one of the mischievous smirks EJ was most used to. 

“Alright, sunshine,” he teased. “Have fun on your date.”

“It’s not a date!” Nini protested, red in the face but looking extremely pleased “See you later!”

“For you, I hope not!” Ricky shouted back at her and laughed softly when she flipped him off over her shoulder, yellow cloak fluttering around her feet.

“Wow,” commented EJ “Nini Sunshine-Rainbows just gave you the finger? You do have a special power for riling people up, Ricky.”

“She’s been spending too much time with Gina” he explained, and pursed his lips “But I’ll take it as a compliment.”

Big Red looked between them like he was following a tennis match. 

“So,” EJ gave a small cough “The Three Broomsticks? Drinks are on me.”

Ricky shuffled his feet guiltily and didn’t look at him when he replied. 

“I’d rather avoid the Three Broomsticks. Kourtney’s there and she’s not too happy with me at the moment.”

EJ bit the inside of his cheek to maintain an impassible expression. It wasn’t hard to imagine why Kourtney might be cross at Ricky: two days earlier, at the prefects meeting, she’d found out about the one hundred and sixty points Ricky had lost for Gryffindor in barely three months of school. He felt a little guilty, but then again, Ricky was sort of bringing it upon himself.

“Let’s go to the Hog’s Head,” suggested Big Red. “I’ve been dying to see how they remade it. Plus, I have to pop into the Post Office, and it’s right on the way.”

When Big Red disappeared into the Post Office a couple hundred meters down the road, Ricky plastered his back against the wall next to the door and looked up at EJ, as if he’d been anticipating that moment for hours. EJ stood in front of him and eyed his shopping bag with a critical look. 

“I should have known you were a Weasley maniac” he sighed.

“Who isn’t?” Ricky laughed “Except for you, obviously.”

“Excuse you,” EJ pompously raised his eyebrows “I made a purchase.” 

He fished a small bottle of Self Replenishing Multicolor Ink from the inside pocket of his cloak, and Ricky snickered. 

“What a daredevil,” he teased “Watch out Hogwarts, your Head Boy’s gone rogue!”

EJ’s mind was working at ten miles an hour. Was it his imagination or Ricky was flirting with him? 

“I’m sorry, I don’t get all the frenzy,” he shrugged “I mean, some of that magic is impressive, but overall it’s all a little too flashy for my taste.”

“I think their charms are brilliant,” Ricky argued, “I’d love to work with them one day.”

“Really?” EJ had no idea what Ricky's ambitions could be, but he found himself incredibly interested. 

“Yeah,” Ricky held his gaze. “I like experimenting, inventing spells and stuff.” 

EJ opened his mouth and closed it again, struck by a sudden realization. 

“That spell you used in the library - you invented it yourself?” He breathed out, astonished. He’d been using it since Ricky had first shown him, and it had completely revolutionized his study time. It took him half the usual time now to complete an essay.

“Uhm, yes,” Ricky looked like he was about to say something else, but he pressed his lips shut. 

“Call me impressed,” said EJ. “Honestly, you could spend more time inventing spells like that and less time on that devious board of yours, and both of our lives would be much easier.”

Ricky looked straight into his eyes, and EJ knew that as soon as he’d said them, he’d have wanted to take those words back. Truth be told EJ had to admit that, at that point, a life where Ricky didn’t cause any trouble for him to spot would have been a downright bore.

“Where would be the fun in that?” Ricky quipped back and shuffled to the left on the wall, away from the door of the Post Office, making way for a seventh year Hufflepuff that was coming out. “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to deny my nature just because you don’t like it.”

EJ tutted, crossing his arms on his chest. 

“It’s people like you that make it harder for honest wizards like me to do our jobs.” he said, shaking his head.

Ricky was just about to reply, when suddenly EJ felt something crash painfully into his shoulder, and he almost lost his balance. He looked up surprised, his shoulder throbbing under the cloak, and was met with the pointy face of the seventh year Hufflepuff, who he thought was named Jackoby. The guy was staring at him with disgust painted all over his face. 

“What did you just say, Caswell?” He growled. EJ stared back, starting to feel the heat crawl up his neck. He had no idea what Jackoby wanted from him, but he did not appreciate being looked at like that.

“I beg your pardon?”

Frozen against the wall, Ricky looked between the two, bewildered.

“You heard me,” Jackoby was inching dangerously forward and EJ didn’t blink, but he slowly moved his hand towards the pocket where he kept his wand “What did you just say to him?”

“I’m afraid our private conversation is none of your business, Jackoby.” he warned, his voice low. Jackoby pushed his shoulder again and EJ used the strength of every nerve in his body not to flash out his wand at him, to send him tumbling across the street with a well-aimed Stupefy. No one could talk to him like that, but maybe he could still solve this without resorting to violence.

“And I'm afraid that if you’re being a racist arse to him because he’s Muggleborn, it is very much my business!” Jackoby shouted, attracting the attention of a dozen people around them. 

Ricky’s eyes grew very round, and he took a step forward. 

“What - mate, you misunderstood…” he tried to explain, but Jackoby barely looked at him and instead growled at EJ. 

“You don’t have to defend him. You’d think Slytherins would be more careful now about boasting their blood superiority rubbish, given how it ended for them the last time.”

EJ’s mind felt numb, like someone had put a freezing spell on his brain and he was left unable to control his body, petrified against the humiliation of falling victim, once again, of the dark fame his beloved House had been tainted with. 

There is no point, he thought as a desperate rage boiled under his skin, and he was unable to express it. There is no point in making all this effort. They will always see your House colors and assume that you’re a bad person. There’s no getting around that.

Then Ricky stepped forward, pressing himself between EJ and Jackoby, his wand aimed straight at the Hufflepuff’s chest.

"You know Jackoby, you're really the one who should be careful about running your mouth like that," he said calmly, his voice like a sheet of ice “You may end up choking on all this bullshit.”

The force of his nonverbal spell sent the boy collapsing on the muddy ground, engulfed for a moment in a blaze of red light. Then Jackoby’s muffled scream filled the air and EJ saw him put his hands on his face in panic, while his tongue bloated out of his mouth, twisted around itself and knotted, leaving the boy with a heavy-looking purple appendix hanging past his chin. He scrambled to his feet and ran away towards the castle, screaming unintelligible insults and tripping constantly on his way.

Stunned, EJ looked at Ricky who breathed heavily and put his wand back in his pocket, hands shaking; he met his eyes, and the barest hint of a smile appeared on his lips.

“I invented that one, too.” 

Saturday, November 28th
Headmaster’s Office

EJ shifted his weight from one foot to the other, staring intently at the closed door of Headmaster Flitwick’s office as if by sheer will he could convince it to let him see through it. He only heard the muffled sound of voices coming from inside, and he had to keep his hands crossed behind his back to restrain himself from knocking loudly and demanding to be let inside. 

After Ricky had jinxed Jackoby in front of the Post Office in Hogsmeade they had thought it was better to get back up to the castle, and as soon as they’d reached the front door Ricky had been swept away by Professor Longbottom, his Head of House, and EJ had been called to the Headmaster’s office only four hours later. Apparently, that was the time it took Madame Pomfrey to break the spell Ricky had put on Jackoby. 

EJ still had a hard time wrapping his mind around what had happened in Hogsmeade. The rage he’d felt at Jackoby’s insulting words had vanished like snow in the sun, annihilated by the incomprehensible feeling brought by the sight of Ricky stepping up to defend him like that. Did Ricky know how much Jackoby’s words had hurt him? Was this his usual way of handling conflict, or had he acted on pure instinct?

You and Ricky have been putting yourself in conflicting situations since the beginning of the year, and even before that Boggart incident, he’s never once tried to take his wand out on you, has he? Not even when you hit him with Levicorpus in the middle of the corridor.

EJ shook his head, unable to process the magnitude of emotions that were battling inside of him. There was only one thing he was sure of: he wanted to know what was happening inside the office, how much trouble Ricky was in, and what he could do to get him out of it.

Under normal circumstances, the idea that a phrase like that could take form in his head would have made him wonder if he’d been Confunded.

EJ’s breath hitched in his throat when he suddenly heard silence from inside the room, then a faint crackle and the door opened, turning on its hinges by itself.

“Mr. Caswell, come in,” invited Headmaster Flitwick, his high-pitched voice sounding much less cheerful than usual, as he put his wand back down on the desk. EJ marched inside, scanning the room: the Headmaster was sitting on his usual pile of fluffy cushions that allowed him to see above the desk, and in front of him, sitting on a pair of puffy blue armchairs, were Ricky and Jackoby. The Headmaster gestured for him to come forward and EJ hesitated for a second before reaching the side of his desk. Jackoby’s face, he noticed with a sense of profound satisfaction, still looked weirdly swollen, as if he was recovering from a severe allergic reaction. He paid him a quick glance before checking in on Ricky: he was staring stubbornly ahead, a defiant expression in his eyes, but his fingers twitched nervously and he could make out a faint tremble in his legs. 

It wasn’t hard to guess why. For all that Ricky put up the attitude of a careless troublemaker, EJ suspected that he wouldn’t be so unfazed if he ended up in real trouble. And given the fact that he’d been pushing the limits for weeks in their teasing game, this might well be the infamous last straw.

“So, Mr. Caswell” Headmaster Flitwick looked up at him with his small, intelligent eyes “It appears you were a direct witness of the altercation that occurred this morning in Hogsmeade. Mr. Jackoby here says Mr. Bowen has attacked him unprovoked.”

EJ inhaled sharply, eyes darting towards Jackoby. 

Unprovoked?

“Is this true?” Headmaster Flitwick inquired. EJ looked at Jackoby who kept sending hateful glares to both him and Ricky, then at Ricky, who had clasped his hands together. 

He didn’t even have to think about it.

“No,” he replied calmly, looking Flitwick right in the face “It’s not true.”

“WHAT?” bellowed Jackoby, “YOU -”

“I already listened to your accusations, Mr Jackoby.” said Flitwick calmly “I’d like to hear Mr. Caswell’s recount now.”

EJ forced himself not to look at Ricky, but he felt his intense stare burn a hole in his forehead. He just hoped he’d have the sense to keep a straight face. 

“I didn’t see Bowen attack him, nor did I hear him use any spell,” he lied, schooling his expression into one of pure sincerity “I was talking to Bowen outside the Post Office when Jackoby came out of it, and without any apparent reason he inserted himself in the conversation, insinuating that I was insulting Bowen’s Muggle origins when really we were discussing the school policy on using muggle skateboards in the corridors.” EJ paused to swallow a smirk that was threatening to explode on his face, and waited until he was perfectly composed again before resuming. In the corner of his eye, Ricky shifted in his seat. 

“I believe that, when Jackoby came closer to initiate a physical confrontation with me, he must have inadvertently bumped into one of Bowen’s bags from Weasley Wizard Wheezes and activated one of their gadgets that retorted against him. That kind of magic is notoriously temperamental, and the effects on Jackoby’s tongue seemed quite similar to those of the new Bloating Bonbons they’re selling in the shop.” 

EJ paused, basking in the stunned silence that resulted from his well-crafted lie. Flitwick’s eyes twinkled with interest at his analysis of the possible magical cause for Jackoby’s twisted tongue, and EJ was sure that the portrait of one of Hogwarts’s most legendary Headmasters had let out a faint chuckle from beneath his long silver beard. Then…

“HE’S LYING!” cried Jackoby jumping to his feet, purple in the face with rage “THAT’S A LIE, BOWEN HAD HIS WAND OUT -”

EJ backed away, feigning worry at his sudden explosion of hostility, and made sure Flitwick noticed that.

“Mr. Jackoby!” The Headmaster was looking at the Hufflepuff with a crease between his brows that EJ had never seen before “Please, calm down. You are indeed displaying quite a temper.”

Well done, idiot. Keep it up and Ricky’ll walk out of this in a minute.

“But Headmaster, Caswell is lying!” Jackoby protested vehemently. 

“Am I?” EJ narrowed his eyes “You pushed me, twice. Unprovoked.”

“I - But you were…” Jackoby’s eyes widened, rage leaving space to utter confusion. He’d walked in there as the victim, and EJ was making sure he’d walk out as the guilty culprit he was. 

“So, it’s true?” Flitwick’s eyebrows disappeared under his pointy wizard hat “You laid hands on Mr. Caswell?”

Jackoby opened his mouth, a stupid expression on his face. 

Go on, you half-wit troll, tell him what happened.

“Yes, he did,” Ricky spoke for the first time, looking everywhere but at EJ. “Caswell had done nothing to him and he pushed him, twice. Then he bumped into me and something exploded, and his tongue got all weird.”

“HEADMASTER, HE’S LYING! They both are! Bowen attacked me, and now Caswell is covering up for him!” Jackoby looked ready to throttle both EJ and Ricky, and Flitwick didn’t seem to like it at all. 

“Enough, Mr. Jackoby. It seems to me that the only one who attacked someone was you.” Headmaster Flitwick looked stern. “Moreover, Mr. Caswell here lately has been trying to get me to tweak school rules specifically to apply them to some of Mr. Bowen’s mischiefs. It seems highly unlikely to me, that he would lie about something like this.”

EJ hoped that the triumph that had flashed on his face had been noticed only by the portrait of Professor Dumbledore hung behind the desk.

“Mr. Bowen, before you go,” Flitwick spoke directly to Ricky, who struggled to hide the disbelief that yes, he was really getting away with this “I wanted to remind you that the Frog Choir is always open to new voices.” 

He looked eloquently at Ricky, who hesitated. 

“I… thank you, Headmaster. I’ll definitely think about it.”

“Very well then.” Flitwick nodded curtly “Bowen, Caswell, you can go.”

EJ followed Ricky out of the office, neither daring to say a word or even look at each other until they had put a considerable distance between themselves and the Headmaster. Then, in the middle of the corridor, Ricky exploded. 

“Bloating Bonbons?” His exhilarated grin was infectious, and EJ couldn’t stop himself from reciprocating. “How the fuck did you come up with that?”

“You can take my idea for when you’ll be asking Weasley for an internship.” He smiled back. Ricky was looking at him with unmistakable admiration, and Jackoby was probably going to face a severe punishment. Utter, complete satisfaction didn’t quite depict the way EJ was feeling. He was euphoric.

“Man, for a second I thought Flitwick was going to get me into the Choir as punishment.” Ricky let out a relieved laugh, running his hand through his hair “You really saved me in there.”

“It was the least I could do.” EJ straightened his shoulders and braced himself for what he was about to say “I mean... you didn’t have to attack Jackoby like that.”

Ricky’s grin faltered and he looked seriously at EJ.

"Yes, I did.” He spoke softly, and the pace of EJ’s heartbeat picked up increasing speed. “You may be a bit too attached to school rules for my liking and also tragically opposed to fun means of transportation, but you're not a cliché prejudice and you don't deserve to be called that by a conceited jerk like Jackoby.”

Ricky spoke matter-of-factly, and EJ wondered whether his heart was about to burst his chest open. 

Ricky thinks you’re a decent person.

“That’s the most offensive compliment I’ve ever received.” He managed to say without having his voice tremble. “You’re one of a kind, Ricky.”

“Says the Head Boy who just lied to the Headmaster to get me out of trouble.” Ricky’s cheeks had resumed the scarlet color EJ had noticed that morning in Hogsmeade. It felt like it’d been days, and not a mere handful of hours, since he’d mused over his loneliness while visiting Hogsmeade by himself. 

“Can I ask you something?” They had started walking towards the end of the corridor, and EJ thought to himself that yes, he was about to be pathetic in front of Ricky, but he just had to know.

He’ll be honest. He won’t try to sugarcoat it.

“Sure” Ricky shrugged, a hint of curiosity in his voice. EJ took a deep breath and spoke before he could doubt himself out of it.

“Do you... do you think I’m like - a boring person?” He asked, not daring to look at him.

Pathetic, EJ. You’re pathetic.

“Yeah, sure. The human version of the Sleeping Draught, you are.” Ricky snickered and EJ kept his gaze trailed on his own feet. Ricky came to a sudden halt, eyes wide in surprise. “Wait, were you being serious?”

“I guess.” EJ shrugged, uncomfortably. If Ricky laughed at him now, he’d go straight back to the Headmaster’s Office and impale himself on the sword of Gryffindor that was showcased right beside Dumbledore’s portrait.

“I - no, I don’t think you’re boring.” Ricky’s tone was genuinely surprised and when EJ risked a look at him, there was no sign of mockery on his face “Where is this coming from, Head Boy, Captain of the Quidditch Team, Most Likely to Become Next Minister of Magic?”

EJ pressed his lips together. A part of him was desperate to confide in Ricky, but the idea of looking to his eyes like a weak, whiny idiot made his blood freeze.

“Yeah well. I guess Head Boy, Quidditch Captain was a little out his depth when he realized everyone was going to Hogsmeade with their friends... except for me.” He confessed, trying his best to sound indifferent, then shook his head. “Sorry, I’m just being an idiot.”

Ricky took one step closer to him, eyes soft; EJ was rapt, and the urge to close the distance that separated them and wrap his arms around him, pressing his face in his neck, sized him and left him breathless.

Merlin, Morgana, Salazar, and all the Great Warlocks. This is not good at all. 

“Being busy doesn’t make you boring, EJ.” said Ricky “But maybe you should just remember to take some time off and unwind, now and then. Hogwarts won’t fall if you stand down your guard for a couple hours, you know?”

His usual cheeky smile had a softer tinge to it, and EJ felt light like a feather, as if an immense mountain that he hadn’t even known was crushing him down had been suddenly lifted off his shoulders.

“It will if you put your mind to it,” he teased, and Ricky rolled his head back in laughter. 

“Alright, what about I offer you a compromise?” He proposed.

“I’m listening.”

Ricky shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels.

“Gina and Nini are throwing me a surprise birthday party in Miss Jenn’s classroom which should have started like, twenty minutes ago. If you came, you’d have a chance to relax for a while and also know for sure that I’m not around scaring portraits and first years with my nasty skateboard.”

EJ was positive that his heart had skipped a beat. Trying to maintain composure, he pretended to think it over.

“Sounds like a good deal.” He concluded. “But I don’t know if I’m dressed for a party.”

“Shut up - it’s my party.” Ricky shoved him lightly and started guiding him along the corridor. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”

Chapter Text

  Monday, December 7^th
The Great Hall

Hogwarts always looked its best during Christmastime, and Ashlyn had been anticipating the decorations since the day after Halloween, when she personally thought the festive season should start. Her mood lifted every time she entered the Great Hall and looked up at the snowy sky, then at the twelve huge Christmas trees and the flowing garlands that adorned the walls. She and Nini always liked to get into competitions with the suits of armor that started singing Christmas carols whenever someone passed them, and she was convinced the house elves always put their best efforts in every meal they prepared in the time leading up to Christmas.

This particular morning, she was sitting at breakfast with Gina, Nini and EJ, and she couldn’t help but realize that the Christmas atmosphere seemed to have had a cheering effect even on her cousin.

End-of-term weeks usually saw EJ turn into the most irritable and intransigent version of himself, snapping at everyone who made too much noise in the corridors and never more than one meter away from a book to revise or a pile of densely written notes to go over. Given that it was his N.E.W.T.s year, Ashlyn had been prepared to see him shout at first years who laughed during breakfast, but instead she’d noticed that EJ was surprisingly relaxed, and often in a good mood. She couldn’t quite place when it started, but it was like a spark had lit in his eyes some time before, and it never really seemed to die out. 

She could see it even now, while he was going over a complicated scheme for his Arithmancy class, and it appeared to burn even brighter when a couple of scruffy, sleepy Gryffindors made their way over and sat at their table. 

“Morning” Big Red greeted her with the usual smile that made Ashlyn want to crawl under a rock and hide until her breathing pace had gone back to normal.

“Hey,” she breathed back, hiding her grin in the cup of tea that she brought to her lips. Normally she would have expected teasing in some form from EJ, but she’d learned that whenever Ricky was around, her cousin became sort of oblivious to anything else. She had thought that their continuous competition of who could rile the other up faster left him on edge, but since Ricky’s birthday party, she’d changed her mind. She locked eyes with Gina - who was also studying the situation over her coffee - and was immediately brought back to Miss Jenn’s classroom on the night when Ricky had turned seventeen. 

Ashlyn knew she wasn’t supposed to trust Maryon Marbles when she’d told her that the charms she’d put on her bracelets to make them glow according to her moods were fail-proof; but then again, Ashlyn had never been one to discourage people from experimenting new skills, and her housemate was convinced that her future lay in the business of Magijewellery, so she’d let her try her new enchantments. Now Ashlyn was on her hands and knees under Miss Jenn’s desk, trying to retrieve the colorful pearls that had mysteriously acquired a life of their own, and hoping that no one - ok, Big Red - would notice. She’d just located one of them, when two pairs of shoes appeared in her visual field and she heard Gina’s voice let out a sharp whisper. 

“I need to talk to you.” 

Ashlyn froze: she really didn’t want to eavesdrop on what was obviously going to be a private conversation, but she also didn’t want to jump out on Gina and, judging by the shoes, EJ.

“If you want to discuss Quidditch…” her cousin’s voice sounded uncharacteristically cold, given that he’d always been on good terms with Gina. 

“It’s not about Quidditch,” Gina hissed “It’s about how you’re being a jerk to me, and it has to stop.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” EJ’s reply came too quickly for it to be believable, and Ashlyn hated herself a little for how fast her curiosity had sparked up.

“Yes, you do. You’ve been calling me ‘the Seeker’ instead of saying my name for what - almost three weeks now?”

“I don’t -” EJ sounded unmistakably defensive now. 

“Listen, EJ” Gina made sure her voice was heavier on his name “We both know when it started, and why.”

“I’m afraid you’re imagining things, Gina” EJ replied, mimicking her tone.

Ashlyn stared at their shoes as if they could give her some insight on what in Circe’s name they were referring to. Why did Slytherins always have to talk to each other as if they were negotiating a war treaty? 

“No, it’s you who’s imagining things, you twat.” Everyone was well acquainted with Gina’s quick temper, and Ashlyn had to bite her tongue to repress a laugh when she imagined the affronted expression that must have appeared on EJ’s face. “Ever since that night you saw us outside the Quidditch pitch you’ve started acting like a jealous lover, and it’s both unnerving and ridiculous.”

“This conversation is ridiculous!” EJ’s panicked whisper had Ashlyn widen her eyes in dismay. 

“I’ll say it once and I’ll say it clearly: we are not dating. And the only reason I’m telling you this is that I’ve grown really tired of the way you’re treating me, is that clear?”

Ashlyn waited with bated breath for EJ’s answer, which took several seconds to be voiced out loud.

“I didn’t realize…” he coughed lightly “I’m sorry, Gina. It was unintentional.” 

“My ass it was,” she replied sharply “But I’ll pretend it never happened if you let me out of practice next Thursday. I have a Potions essay to finish.” Ashlyn could practically hear her smug smirk. 

“Fine.”

“Good,” Gina took a step back “Oh, and EJ? Do it again and I’ll knock you off your broom in front of the whole school.”

EJ said nothing and stood in the same spot for what felt like ages, before slowly walking back to the party. It had taken Ashlyn’s Ravenclaw brain all of seven seconds to join all the dots, and she too remained frozen under the table for longer than would be considered appropriate, taking in the enormity of the revelation: unless she was gravely mistaken, EJ must have a crush on Ricky. 

“Does anyone have a quill?” 

Ashlyn jolted on her seat, as she was abruptly pulled away from her memory. She blinked, looking around: Nini and Gina had started an animated conversation on whether Defense Against the Dark Arts was a more difficult O.W.L than Potions (“I mean, at least at Potions if you’re really stuck you can take a look at your neighbor! Big Red did.” “Hey!” “Yes, but I want to get an O at Defense and those don’t come easy.”) and apparently, she’d missed the arrival of the post owls.

EJ looked around the table, a sheet of parchment in his hand, waiting for someone to answer him.

“Here,” Ricky fished a small object from the depths of his bag and gave it to EJ, who studied it attentively. 

“What’s this?” He asked. 

“It’s a pen,” Ricky chuckled. “A muggle pen. You have to press it on the top.”

EJ looked uncertain, as if he couldn’t trust it not to bite him if he tried to use it; but he followed Ricky’s instructions and his eyes widened in wonder when the pen confidently clicked out a pointy metal end.

It was still a bit weird to see Ricky and EJ engage in civil conversations that didn’t end with EJ fuming or Ricky leaving dramatically the breakfast table, but it was an uncertain balance that no one really wanted to test. Everyone had noticed that something had changed between the two of them - no one still knew exactly what had happened in Hogsmeade that had resulted in Ricky being sent to Flitwick’s office and then him inviting EJ to his birthday party - but there was a silent agreement in the group that they wouldn’t talk about it until Ricky or EJ did something to acknowledge the situation. Ashlyn had bet Nini that Carlos was going to be the first to give in to curiosity and burst their bubble, but until then, EJ and Ricky’s cautious truce had to be treated as the hippogriff in the room.

“I like this,” EJ declared solemnly, and amused himself by clicking the pen a couple times more before turning over the letter he’d just received and aggressively starting to write an answer on the back. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were reduced to slits. 

“Are you okay?” asked Ashlyn carefully. If EJ’s mood had dropped so drastically because of a letter, it could only mean one thing.

“Yes.” He replied flatly “I’m just confirming to my parents that I won’t be going home for Christmas”

In the corner of her eye, Ashlyn noticed Ricky’s head snap in their direction, but she lowered her voice.

“Why not? What happened?” She asked, dreading the answer. She knew that her aunt and uncle weren’t the most affectionate of parents, but usually EJ couldn’t wait to get back home to see Cordelia.

“Apparently, Gran decided to bring Cordelia on her trip to Australia now, since it’s the best season to go. No point going home if she’s not there,” he explained, perfectly collected, as if he were merely discussing the dangers of using Self-Correcting Quills. Ashlyn knew him better than that.

“You know you can still come with us to China…” she offered, feeling sadly powerless at the thought of EJ’s misery, preferring to spend Christmas alone at Hogwarts rather than at home with his parents. 

“It’s fine Ash, really. I have lots to study anyway.” He plastered a smile on his face and finished the letter, fastening it to the leg of Olympus, Caswell’s family brown owl. His tight grip on Ricky’s pen, however, told another story.

“Cool!” Big Red happily interjected; he didn’t seem to have a problem with inserting himself in conversations he wasn’t a part of, and Ashlyn may or may not love him for this “You can keep Ricky company.” 

EJ stared at Ricky and the Gryffindor stared back, eyes as round as full moons. Silence fell on the table, and everyone held their breath in anticipation.

“You... you’re not going home either?” EJ asked, a forced neutrality in his voice. Ricky’s tentative smile looked tense.

“Nope. And with you, I think there’ll be six students in total staying at Hogwarts for Christmas,” he replied quietly.

No one spoke, and the tension in the air was so charged that Ashlyn almost expected a burst of lightning to snap the table in half. Then Nini intervened, as if she wanted to cover an obscene noise. 

“So, you’re going to China for Christmas, Ashlyn?” She asked loudly, attracting everyone’s attention on herself and, subsequently, on Ashlyn. 

“Yeah,” Ashlyn played on, because EJ and Ricky still hadn’t dropped their gazes from each other. “Gran took me there for my pre-Hogwarts trip and I’ve been dying to go back.” She added, smiling as the memories from her childhood came back to her. 

“Your what?” Big Red asked, interested. 

“It’s a Caswell family tradition,” she explained “When we turn eleven, our grandparents take us on a trip to see another magical country. I went to Beijing and Shanghai.”

An admired chorus of “oohs” and “aahs” echoed around the table and the attention was shifted on EJ, who had gone back to his breakfast with his lips slightly upturned. 

“I went to Peru. And Gran’s taking my sister to Australia.” He supplied, shrugging his shoulders. 

“You have a sister?” It was Ricky who asked, and Ashlyn was sure she hadn’t imagined the redness on his cheeks that hadn’t been there a minute before. 

“Yeah, Cordelia.” EJ’s face lit up, like always when his sister was involved “She’s coming to Hogwarts next year and she’ll take my place as Slytherin’s MVW. I’ve been grooming her for ages.”

A burst of booming laughter followed his words, and EJ’s neck flushed red in embarrassment.

“MVW?” repeated Ricky “What’s that, like an MVP?”

“Most Valued Wizard or Witch,” snickered Gina. 

“EJ, you should think a little higher of yourself. I’m sensing an excess of modesty over there.” teased Ricky, eyes sparkling. True to his perfectly dignified demeanor, EJ threw a piece of leftover bacon at his face. 

Ashlyn exchanged a look with Nini over her cup of coffee, and she knew they were thinking the same thing: Carlos would eat his cauldron once he’d find out what he’d missed.

Sunday, December 20^th
The Great Hall

Ricky walked into the Great Hall for dinner, a little unsure about what to expect. Christmas Holidays had officially started that afternoon: he’d walked Nini, Big Red and Gina to the front gates and saw them off on the carriages that would take them to the Hogsmeade Station, to catch the train back home. Although later than usual, snow had finally covered the grounds: when he’d walked back to school, Ricky thought that Hogwarts looked like a giant asleep creature, breathing quietly under a white blanket.

The hallway was uncharacteristically silent, and it was almost disconcerting to enter the vastness of the Great Hall and find it completely empty of the usual hundreds of small tables: there was only one of them left, in the center of the room, and all the other five students that had remained in school for the holidays were already eating. The awkward silence was broken by the clinging of cutlery against the silver plates, and occasional bursts of timid conversation.

Ricky tried to keep his nerves at bay as he walked towards the only place left, at the right end of the table, and sat directly in front of EJ.

“Hey” he greeted him, looking up from his plate of mashed potatoes. Ricky took a serving of sausages and Brussel sprouts and looked around. There were a third-year girl and a fifth-year boy from Hufflepuff - he remembered him because he’d once interrupted a study session he was having with Nini to ask her help in finding his lost kitten - and two girls from Ravenclaw, who may or may not be sisters. No one from Slytherin or Gryffindor, except for EJ and him.

He didn’t even try to make conversation: for some reason, talking to EJ in in front of other people that weren’t their friends made him uncomfortable - their bantering had been misunderstood once already, and he didn’t care to repeat the experience any time soon - so instead he listened to the girls chatting quietly about the possibility of maybe visiting Hogsmeade on Christmas day. In front of him, EJ clenched and unclenched his fingers around the cutlery, and Ricky stifled a chuckle in his glass of water: he was probably restraining himself from listing all the school rules that prohibited those visits, and judging by the look on his face, it must have been physically painful. 

Finally, one by one, the younger students left the Great Hall and Ricky could stop pretending that he wanted to finish his third serving of apple pie.

“Hungry, were you?” EJ commented, as soon as Ricky’s fork clanked against the plate.

“Very” he lied. After all, it wasn’t like EJ hadn’t nursed his last piece of salad as if he were part of a slow-eating competition. 

“It’s a bit weird seeing the castle so empty, isn’t it?” EJ looked up at the ceiling, enchanted to look like the endless night sky above. The stars reflected in his eyes, and Ricky let out a slow breath.

“I like it best when it’s like this,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. EJ’s lips quivered and he looked at him again. 

“That’s why you’re always out and about when normal people go to sleep?” he asked.

“Yep,” he smiled, feeling strangely understood “That, and the thrill of being an outlaw.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever been tempted by that” EJ replied quickly, nose up in the air. Somehow it had become natural for Ricky, to recognize the mask he was putting on. He kept wondering about what lied beneath the polished surface that EJ was hellbent on showing the world, and ever since he’d caught a glimpse of it - first with the Boggart in the Potions classroom, then with Jackoby in the Headmaster’s office - he simply couldn’t shake the desire to discover more of him. It was, ironically, the same thrill he’d get out of night-time adventures around the castle, when he found out about a new secret passage, or when he picked apart another piece of muggle technology and tried to make it work with magic.

“That’s a shame,” sighed Ricky “Because I sort of had a plan for these holidays.”

And there it was: a spark of interest flashed in EJ’s eyes, and Ricky wanted nothing more than to keep him looking like that.

“I’m a little scared to ask you what it is, to be honest” EJ replied, crossing his arms on the table. He was still wearing his school uniform, the Head Boy badge perfectly aligned with the embroidery of Slytherin’s blazon on his chest. It made Ricky want to move it just a few millimeters off-center.

“Well, I have a bucket list of things I want to do before I leave Hogwarts” explained Ricky; it felt silly, to reveal it to EJ when he’d never even told Nini about it, but he figured that those Christmas holidays were the perfect time to cross a couple of things from his list, and he might as well try and get EJ involved.

“Look, if you plan to swim in the lake at midnight on New Year’s Eve, you’re on your own” EJ said quickly, looking vaguely alarmed.

“What - no!” Ricky laughed “I was talking about getting into the other Houses’ common rooms.”

“Oh,” EJ’s expression visibly relaxed, before he realized what Ricky had said and affront took over “You WHAT?”

“Come on, EJ” Ricky teased “Don’t tell me you’ve never wondered.”

“I -,” EJ looked torn and Godric, did Ricky love getting him on edge like that. Especially because… 

“I don’t believe you’re telling me, the Head Boy, that you intend to break a dozen of the school’s more sacred rules for fun. It’s really true, what they say about Gryffindors and common sense.”

“What is it they say about Gryffindors and common sense?”

“That you have none.” EJ leveled him with a stare that made Ricky’s stomach flutter in delight.

… because he always had the best answers. 

“I was just hoping that the Head Boy might want to help me,” he said innocently, playing with the leftovers of the pie in his plate.

“… why would I do that? You know I could lose my badge over this?” EJ was quick to reply, but there was a tinge of uncertainty to his tone. Everyone wanted to break the rules, sometimes.

“Come on, EJ. Don’t you ever want to do something fun?” He insisted.

“Quidditch is lots of fun,” EJ retorted, arms firmly crossed against his chest. Ricky grimaced at the thought.

“I’m sure. You risk your life but yeah, great fun” he said. He watched as, unsurprisingly, EJ’s eyes widened in shock. It seemed that all Quidditch players had a hard time grasping the concept that not everyone was dying to get chased by metal balls at fifty miles per hour while flying on a tool that muggles used to clean their floors.

“You don’t like Quidditch?” Sure enough, EJ voiced his bewilderment.

“It’s fun to watch.” Ricky shrugged again: he did like going to the games, supporting Gryffindor and even seeing Gina rock it when she played for Slytherin “I just don’t trust brooms, is all. I prefer my skateboard.”

“I don’t believe this.” EJ looked amused all of a sudden. “Gryffindor’s number one troublemaker is afraid of flying?” He inquired, and Ricky suddenly felt that the roles had reversed, and instead of him making fun of EJ for not liking his skateboard, now it was his turn to face the mocking. His toes tingled uncomfortably and Ricky curled them in his shoes, but he wasn’t sure why.

“Don’t try to distract me.” He said, starting to feel the heat on his cheeks under EJ’s teasing gaze “I’m going to get into the common rooms anyway, so you’re either with me or against me.” He continued, wishing to regain the upper hand in the conversation. EJ planted his chin in his hand, and in a surge of unprecedented affection, Ricky realized that Ashlyn often did the same thing. He aggressively tried to swat the word cute away from his brain.

“… If anyone sees us, I’ll say that I was trying to stop you.” EJ declared solemnly, and for a second Ricky expected him to stick his hand out to formally stipulate an agreement.

“Fair enough.” He laughed, finally getting up from the table. “Meet me at midnight in front of the library,” he added, before strolling away towards the Great Hall.

Ricky wasn’t famous for thinking his plans through, but he had a feeling that involving EJ in this one might have been the best idea he’d had in a while. If only he would manage to keep at bay the army of Pygmy Puffs that were currently doing somersaults in his stomach.

Sunday, December 20^th
In front of the library

For all Ricky had spent the better part of last term trying to find excuses to get out of the Gryffindor common room when there were more than ten people in it, having it all to himself somehow was equally unsettling. He tried to kill the time that separated him from midnight by sitting in front of the fireplace and strumming on his guitar like he hadn’t done in a while, but the echo of the notes in the silence of the room had a sinister tinge to it, and Ricky had ended up feeling like he was hearing his own thoughts reverberate on the stone walls, in the crackling of the fire, and in the vibrations of the chords of his guitar.

His mother was moving away, and that was pretty much official by now. His father had had nothing but words of affection and understanding when Ricky had told him he didn’t want to come home to a shattered household for Christmas, and somehow that made it even worse: he felt like a coward for abandoning his father, guilty for not being able to make his mother stay, and terrified of what awaited him outside of the security of Hogwarts. He didn’t want things to change, he wasn’t ready, he couldn’t face it. More than anything, he wanted to escape the anguish that seized him every time his thoughts started spiraling down those tracks, that left him with his eyes wide open in the dark until the first hours of dawn, and cut his breath short in his lungs.

Ricky spent those few hours in the common room doing the best he could not to remain alone with his thoughts, and when the clock on the mantlepiece finally signaled that it was ten to midnight, he threw himself out of the common room, waking the Fat Lady, and sprinted along the corridor towards the library. 

He wasn’t surprised to find EJ already there, standing warily with his back straight, ready to face potential trouble.

“At ease, soldier,” laughed Ricky, when EJ jumped at the sound of his voice.

“I really don’t understand what it is that you love so much about breaking the rules” EJ grimaced uncomfortably, taking a quick glance at the portrait of two ancient wizards that were playing cards, as if they were ready to run to the Headmaster’s office to spy on them. “It’s exhausting.”

Ricky did the best he could not to let a fond smile spread on his face. He didn’t necessarily want to corrupt his morals, but somewhere in his brain he knew that what they were doing went against every instinct in EJ’s body, and yet there he was, keeping him company. Either he was bored out of his mind, alone in the Slytherin common room, or… or nothing.

“Are you even sure that we’re breaking the rules?” Ricky inquired, talking fast to drown out the sound of his own thoughts “I mean, it’s the holidays and there’s like, six of us students and three teachers left in the castle. They could cut us some slack.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t checked the manual to find some sort of loophole.” commented EJ, raising his eyebrows. Of course Ricky hadn’t done it. He read the school rules only to irritate EJ, but this time they were on the same team: why would he bother with that boring book? He shrugged noncommittally, unsure of how exactly to explain those thoughts to EJ; he simply started walking along the corridor and waited for him to follow. 

“So how is this going to work?” Asked EJ, as they approached the stairs “Show me yours, and I’ll show you mine?”

Ricky knew he had to brace himself for what he was about to say, and tried to keep his tone neutral. 

“No, we’re going to Ravenclaw first. I’ve been to the Slytherin common room already.”

If he’d dumped a bucketful of dragon dung on his head, EJ would have looked less outraged. 

“WHAT?” He yelled, freezing in the act of climbing a step “When? How? WHY?”

Ricky suspected that if he laughed now, there would be no guarantee that EJ wouldn’t go charging into the Great Hall and smash the Gryffindor hourglass to pieces.

“Last year, the first time.” He answered honestly, starting to climb the stairs again “I needed to talk to Gina.”

EJ’s lips twitched and his eyes looked like Killing Curses, but he followed him.

“You needed to talk to Gina, so you broke one of the school’s most sacred traditions. Makes perfect sense.”

Ricky felt safe enough to let out a small chuckle.

“Jealous?” He asked. Not that he had particularly liked the Slytherin common room: the underwater view of the lake was cool, but it gave the walls a greenish tinge that made it appear even gloomier than it already was.

“Why would I be jealous of Gina?” EJ spat back, jaw clenched. Ricky’s brain came to a screeching halt.

“I meant…” he whispered, heart in his throat “I meant, that I’ve seen your common room.”

Ricky kept his eyes trailed on the floor and did not search for the implied meaning of EJ’s instinctive response, because that acknowledgment would have required a conversation he had no intention of having, now or at any other time. EJ’s silence was as loud as a siren in his head, and Ricky clenched his fists in his pockets - he wasn’t ready for another difficult situation, he only wanted to have some fun; why did things always have to become complicated?

“Then I want to go to the Gryffindor Tower first!” EJ commanded.

Ricky would have never thought that he would be relieved to hear EJ talk to him like that, and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at him.

“I can take you there whenever,” he said “Let’s kick off your life in crime in style, eh?”

He listened to EJ’s mumbling protests all the way up to where he knew the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower must be, and preceded him up the spiraling staircase until they stopped in front of a door without a knob, adorned by a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. EJ looked as puzzled as he was; Ricky gestured for him to do the honors in a perfect display of Gryffindor chivalry, and watched as he held the knocker and tapped lightly on the door. They waited in silence for a moment, then a clear, musical voice chanted: 

“It’s not every day that the lion and the snake join forces to come knocking at my door. Tell me, then: what hurts the most when lost, yet also when not had at all, that costs nothing but is worth everything? It's sometimes the hardest to express, but the easiest to ignore.”

“I - what?” 

Ricky was happy to see his own bewilderment reflected in EJ’s face.

“I think it’s a riddle,” reasoned Ricky. “We should solve it to get in.”

“This is what Ravenclaws have to do to get to bed?” EJ looked baffled. “It’s…” 

“Mental.” Ricky agreed. He’d never been more grateful for the Fat Lady and her snarky comments.

They knocked on the door again, to hear the riddle one more time. Then EJ started repeating it as if it were a paragraph of Advanced Transfiguration he had to learn for Mazzara’s class, until he knew it by heart.

“What hurts when lost?” Ricky scratched his head “I don’t know, life? It’s worth everything and - ”

“Yeah, but hard to express?” EJ argued “How do you express life?”

Ricky sighed, resigned, and plumped down on the floor to sit cross-legged in front of the door. 

“This is going to take a while.”

Around one and a half hour later, Ricky had the confirmation that involving EJ in his plan had been a brilliant idea. Apparently, the Head Boy didn’t like the idea of being outsmarted by a door, and he was starting to get angrier and angrier with every passing minute. He was mumbling to himself, only occasionally involving Ricky in his thoughts processes; from his end, Ricky had simply given up, and busied himself with observing his struggles. He was running his hands through his hair in concentration, and that unusually ruffled look suited him unexpectedly well. Ricky’s stomach clenched weirdly, but it must have been the cold.

“Perhaps,” interjected the bronze eagle at some point, making both of them jump in surprise, “it might be better for you to sleep on it.”

Ricky stifled an incredulous laughter in his hand. 

“Wow, we must really suck at this.”

“I am not going to give up!” EJ hissed. “I am the Head Boy, and I should be able to get into any room of my liking!”

“Authority is often powerless when not supported by a well-fed brain.” chanted the knocker, and EJ jumped to his feet, red in the face.

“Is this metal bird calling me stupid?” He cried, looking ready to charge the door head-first; the bronze eagle remained silent, glowing in the faint light produced by the torch on the wall.

“EJ!” Ricky stood up too, and laughing he took hold of EJ’s sweater to hold him back. “Shut up, you’ll wake the Ravenclaw girls!”

EJ looked at Ricky and his offended expression softened just barely. 

“I don’t appreciate being called stupid,” he muttered. Ricky couldn’t help but feel incredibly endeared. Part of him wanted to tease him, tell him he’d have liked to know what Ashlyn thought of her cousin almost getting into a fight with an inanimate object, but something held him back. He felt like he should keep this side of EJ all to himself, and once again he wasn’t sure he’d like to get to the bottom of that feeling. 

“It’s just a door,” he reminded him. “I’m sure the answer is something really stupid like - I don’t know, let’s think about magic.”

“You don’t express magic.” EJ reasoned, furrowing his brows. 

“You sort of do, actually.” Ricky shrugged “That’s what Miss Jenn says about charms, at least.”

“Okay, so magic costs nothing, but it can’t be lost so easily, so I don’t think it’s the answer.” EJ ruffled his hair again.

“What works like magic, but it’s not magic?” Wondered Ricky “Thoughts? Feelings?”

“Love.” EJ whispered, without looking at him. He cleared his voice, and looked defiantly at the door knocker “It’s love, isn’t it?”

Without any further comment, the door swung on its hinges, and the Ravenclaw common room presented itself in front of their eyes.

“EJ!” Unable to express his feelings in a better way, Ricky shook his shoulders enthusiastically “You genius! You did it!”

Looking incredibly pleased with himself, EJ led the way into the beautiful circular room, and the boys stood in awe for a couple minutes, taking in the majestic painted ceiling, the immense library, and the spectacular window from where they enjoyed an unparalleled view of the mountains that surrounded Hogwarts, gleaming in the moonlight. Then Ricky walked towards one of the plushy chaise-lounges and fell on the blue velvet cushions, enjoying the softness after having sat on the cold stone floor for almost two hours.

“This is amazing,” he sighed happily. EJ took the armchair next to him, looking slightly uncomfortable as if they were lounging in the living room of a house they’d just trespassed.

“Definitely worth the struggle of getting in,” convened EJ. “But I’m glad I’m not a Ravenclaw.”

“Love,” Ricky rolled the word on his tongue, distractedly. “I wouldn’t have guessed it for sure.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw EJ turn to face him.

“Why not?” He asked “It wasn’t that hard, in the end. We should have got there sooner.”

Ricky closed his eyes and took a deep breath. All of a sudden it was like the words were being pulled from his lips, as if he’d been waiting for this moment since he’d walked out of Gryffindor Tower a couple hours before.

“It’s just not a word I like to think about.” He said carefully. He felt that, if he didn’t try to restrain himself, he’d have ended up spilling his heart out to EJ, like he had suddenly lost control of his own speech abilities. “Let’s say I haven’t had the best experiences with that so far.”

EJ seemed to pick his next words just as carefully.

“I took you more for a heartbreaker than a heartbroken,” he said, tactfully. Ricky’s lips curled upwards on their own accord.

“It’s not about that. I’ve never even properly dated anyone.” He explained. 

“Oh,” was all EJ said. 

“Yeah,” for some reason, Ricky felt it was necessary to go into further detail “Nini and I tried for like, two weeks last year, and it was the weirdest thing ever. And there was a muggle guy I met at a skatepark one summer but I never saw him again after one week.”

He had no idea why it was suddenly imperative to him that EJ knew that, but there was no use musing over words he couldn’t take back anyway.

The silence stretched for a few beats longer than Ricky deemed comfortable, and he opened his eyes to look at EJ, heart rate spiking. He was staring a hole in the carpet, fingers clasped around the armrests.

“Me neither,” he finally supplied “There was this daughter of an ancient pureblood family my parents hoped to set me up with, but it ended pretty quickly.”

“Not into Pureblood girls?” Ricky painfully forced a faint laughter from his chest.

“Not into girls,” EJ told the carpet. Ricky felt like he’d just dropped from a very high tower. 

“Oh,” he coughed “And your parents - they don’t like that?” He inquired.

EJ shrugged and closed his eyes, relaxing on the armchair.

“Not in principle.” he said bitterly. “They wouldn’t care if my sister were to bring home a girlfriend, one day. But they’d be really disappointed if I didn’t carry on the Caswell magical bloodline, you see.”

Ricky observed the hard line of EJ’s jaw and the faint tremble of his Adam’s apple.

“Parents suck,” he heartily spat out, “Often.” He then conceded, thinking about his saint of a father. EJ looked at him, surprised and amused at the same time.

“Yeah,” he agreed, in a low voice. “Yeah, they really do.”

Ricky felt a strange commotion rise in his throat: families were a touchy subject and he didn’t know what EJ’s was like, but he realized now that both of them had decided to stay at school for Christmas, and this created a bond that he would never be able to put into words. Maybe Nini had been right that day, when he’d run away from the breakfast table: maybe EJ and him were really more similar than he’d thought.

Ricky hadn’t noticed that he’d dozed off, until a hand shook his shoulder gently and EJ’s voice spoke softly, close to his ear.

“Ricky. Ricky, wake up.”

“What?” He mumbled, sitting straight. He had goosebumps on his neck, and he almost shuddered when he noticed how EJ’s hair looked, all bent to the side. He must have fallen asleep too.

“I think you should see this” he said. EJ guided him in front of the window, and his breath stopped. “Not bad for your bucket list, eh?” 

Ricky didn’t know how long they’d slept, but it must have been hours: the starry sky that had stretched before their eyes had disappeared, and the darkness was slowly melting away as the faint glow of dawn lightened the horizon in the east. Ricky stood by EJ’s side, marveling at the splendor of the sunrise, and watched in silence as the golden rays of sunlight gleamed over the mountaintops. It was like the heat of the sun that was climbing towards the sky rose inside of him as well, from his navel to his chest, from the bottom of his feet to the tips of his fingers.

Sunlight engulfed their figures in front of the window as the dawn finally broke, and both of them had to close their eyes: the light was too bright to look at it directly, but Ricky and EJ stood there in silence, bathing in the glow. 

Chapter Text

Wednesday, December 23^rd
The dungeons’ corridor

“At this point, you could admit that you’re doing it just to annoy me.” EJ crossed his arms over his chest, pressing his back against the wall that concealed the entrance to the Slytherin common room. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Ricky retorted, as he cheerfully slalomed along the corridor on his skateboard.

“One day,” EJ took a tentative step forward and then backed up immediately when Ricky zoomed past him, only a couple of inches away. “One day I’ll feed that skateboard to the Giant Squid, and I’ll tell you that you deserved it. I will make you cry, Bowen!”

Ricky performed a weird jump that unfortunately didn’t send him crashing into the wall, and when he turned to face him, he was laughing.

“That’s not special, I cry pretty easily,” he informed him, then he noticed the bag that EJ had slumped over his shoulder and his eyes widened “What are you doing with that?”

“I’m going to the library to study before dinner,” said EJ, walking up to him “As you should do, too.”

“No, come on,” Ricky looked like a kicked puppy and EJ tightened his grip on the straps of his bag. “We said no homework until Christmas!”

“I never said that,” EJ corrected him. “You did. And I’m going to the library.”

“EJ,” Ricky stretched out his name, betrayal painted all over his face “What am I going to do all by myself, if you go to the library?” 

“You could come with me, and work on the four-parchment rolls essay you have for Transfiguration.” EJ suggested, raising an eyebrow at him. He still couldn’t believe the way Ricky and him were hitting it off since they’d broken into Ravenclaw’s common room: they’d pretty much hung out together every day, Ricky had taken him to Gryffindor Tower and EJ had had a really hard time pretending he didn’t enjoy sitting on the carpet by the fire, surrounded by the scarlet tapestry on the walls. 

“Or,” Ricky’s smile suddenly sported the devilish tinge that usually preceded mischievous activities. “I could help you finally overcome your blinding fear of skateboards.”

“I’m not afraid of that thing!” EJ spat back, affronted. “I’m profoundly concerned about your ability to control it, I am.”

Ricky rocked left and right on his skateboard in front of him, and EJ didn’t like the fact that like this, he was ten centimeters taller than him. The hood chords of his blue muggle sweatshirt danced in front of his eyes and he had to resist the impulse of tugging him down.

“Sure,” he teased. “So, you’re not just scared that you’d fall and mess up your pretty face?”

My what now?

EJ’s mind went blank for a couple of seconds, while he searched for an appropriate response. On his part, Ricky seemed just as shocked about what he’d said; all of a sudden, their conversation in the Ravenclaw common room came back to him and EJ couldn’t help but wonder.

“Whatever,” Ricky exclaimed, without waiting for his answer. “I knew my skateboard was too scary for a Slytherin anyway.”

He put his foot down to push himself away, but EJ grabbed his arm on instinct and almost knocked both of them on the floor.

“Wait!” He said, and gave him his best look of superiority “I am not scared. I’m sure anyone could learn how to ride that scrappy board in ten minutes.”

“Give it a try, then,” Ricky challenged him. EJ felt conflicted: he couldn’t decide what was worse, if giving in to Ricky or letting him go his way and spend the afternoon alone in the library. 

It’s not exactly a hard choice.

“Let’s say I accept and prove to you that I can indeed do anything I want,” EJ quirked his brow. “I am not going to risk anybody seeing me make a fool of myself on that thing.”

“Why would you make a fool of yourself if it’s so easy to ride a skateboard?” Ricky retorted, and EJ flushed in annoyance. He’d called that upon himself. He watched as the Gryffindor dismounted from the skateboard with agility and gave it a weird kick to make it jump up in his hand. 

“Don’t worry,” Ricky’s cheeky smile lit up his face. “I know just the place.”

Ten minutes later, EJ found himself speechless for the first time since… he couldn’t recall, really. 

“Ricky,” he breathed out. “Is this what I think it is?”

Ricky scratched the back of his neck with the hand that wasn’t holding the skateboard, giving him a sheepish smile.

“The Room of Requirement.” he said. “I don’t even know why I’m surprised that you know about it.”

“Are you joking?” EJ let his bag fall to the floor, taking in the empty circular room. He felt like he’d just walked into a temple. “This is a piece of history! Professor Binns literally teaches about this!”

“You’re probably the only student in school who listens to Binns, EJ,” smirked Ricky.

“I thought this room had been destroyed during the Battle of Hogwarts.” EJ started pacing the floor, while all the information he’d studied over the years came back to him. He was thrilled, but more than anything, he couldn’t help but admire Ricky. He was standing there in his hoodie and muggle trainers, holding his skateboard without any care in the world, probably not even realizing that he’d outperformed numerous wizards who had claimed that the magic in the room must have collapsed after the events of the Battle. With a pang of jealousy, EJ wished he could be a little more like him. 

You’d have wanted everyone to know you’d found the Room of Requirement, if it were you.

“I didn’t find it entirely on my own,” Ricky pointed out, dropping his skateboard to the ground and jumping on it immediately. EJ had started to guess that doing that must help his confidence. “Miss Jenn sort of gave me clues, and it took me a while, but I found it in fifth year.” He shrugged. 

Yeah, no biggie.

“Who do you reckon knows about the room?” EJ couldn’t help but ask.

“No one that I know of, except for Miss Jenn.” Ricky said, spinning on his skateboard like a Sneakoscope “And Gina, ‘cause I told her. But she never came here.”

Ricky didn’t look at him and EJ tried his best to wrap his head around the fact that apparently Ricky had never brought any of his friends to see the legendary Room of Requirement, but he was showing it to him now. He bit down a comment - something told him Ricky wouldn’t have liked it - and instead asked, 

“So, what is it that you do here? Experiment with magic?”

Ricky’s smile formed a dimple in his cheek, which EJ couldn’t believe he was only noticing now.

“Sometimes,” he said. “Usually I come here when the common room feels a little…” he shrugged and EJ frowned on instinct. “And I just skate for a while and clear my head.”

EJ stared at Ricky without really knowing what to say. He had lost count of the times he’d wished to get a place all to himself that wasn’t the library, to get away from the common room where basically everyone looked at him like he carried some gravely infectious disease: he had his own room now and that was where he retreated now, but he still understood perfectly what Ricky meant.

He cleared his throat. 

“I can’t believe you’ve been using the place that was chosen as the headquarters for Hogwarts’s Resistance in the War as your personal skate park.” he mused. “You’re unnerving to the point it’s almost endearing.” He added, heart pounding in his chest. Had he gone too far?

Ricky had his back to him, but he turned his head enough to let him see his usual cheeky smile. 

“Now I’m proper flattered.” he teased, and EJ felt his cheeks betray him as they heated up “It’s about to become your skate park, too.”

EJ grumbled a protest, more to himself than Ricky. He still couldn’t believe he’d let himself be talked into this.

“Come on, give it a try,” Ricky skated over and dismounted, standing in front of EJ with the skate between them, and gave him an expectant look. An acid taste filled EJ’s throat as he stared at the skateboard: was he really about to make a fool of himself in front of Ricky? He risked a quick glance at him, and saw a gentle smile on his lips, no trace of his usual teasing. He felt only a little less sick.

“If you laugh at me…” he hissed, and then placed his left foot on the board. He felt unstable already.

“I won’t,” said Ricky softly, crossing his arms so he was holding his own elbows, and then extending them forwards towards EJ “Just grab onto me and keep your balance.”

EJ took a deep breath, held tightly on Ricky’s arms and then, closing his eyes, finally took his right foot off the ground.

Christmas Day 
Gryffindor Common Room

EJ had never really appreciated the beauty of having a common room that was one mere floor away from the Great Hall, but now that he was climbing the umpteenth flight of stairs to reach Gryffindor Tower on a stomach full of Christmas delicacies after the gargantuan lunch they’d had, he found himself incredibly grateful, once again, for being sorted in the noble house of Salazar.

“Why,” he hissed, bending over to catch his breath and cursing at the third serving of apple crumble he hadn’t been able to resist “Why did we not just go to the dungeons?”

Already on top of the stairs, Ricky stared him down with his arms crossed over his chest. He’d eaten twice as much as EJ, but apparently that didn’t faze him.

“Because we can’t see the snow fall from your underwater snake cave” he retorted “What’s Christmas without snow, EJ?” 

“Not a death sentence for me, that’s for sure” he grumbled, but forced himself up the stairs and glared at Ricky when he noticed the taunting smile on his lips. Once they finally reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, EJ rolled his eyes once again. 

“Now this is just perfect.”

“It’s you again!” slurred the portrait of the large pink-dressed woman. Her hair was limp on her shoulders and her cheeks and nose were as red as the wine she’d undoubtedly downed with her friend Violet. 

“Merry Christmas, Miss Lady” said Ricky, exchanging an amused look with EJ “Would you mind letting us through?”

The Fat Lady stared at the two of them, an unmistakable look of malicious interest in her small liquid eyes. EJ liked her even less than the Ravenclaw bronze eagle: the day before, when he’d left the Gryffindor common room to head back to his dormitory, she’d made some insinuations about the nature of his and Ricky’s relationship that he hadn’t liked one bit.

“Yes, Merry Christmas,” she mumbled. “Feel free to spend the night here, young man. I’d like to sleep until tomorrow morning without interruptions.”

“Troll snout,” EJ all but shouted the password and scrambled through the passage when the portrait let them through, following Ricky to the fireplace.

“I’m dead.” announced the Gryffindor, slumping to the ground and laying on the carpet in front of the fireplace, limbs extended in every direction and eyes blissfully closed. He looked relaxed in a way EJ had never really seen him before, the warm glow of the fire dancing on his skin and a small satisfied smile on his lips. EJ knew enough about Ricky to guess that, just like for him, this Christmas at home would have been all but peaceful, and felt a strange impulse to make sure that this contentment didn’t fade anytime soon.

“I can make room if you want,” said Ricky all of a sudden. He was staring right at him, and EJ felt his stomach drop somewhere beneath his knees: he’d been prying, and Ricky had caught him.

“No, thanks,” he replied quickly, trying his best to maintain his usual composure. “If I lay down, I doubt I’ll ever be able to get back up again.”

Then, because Ricky seemed pretty happy just lying there and looking at him in silence, EJ pointed at the Christmas tree between the fireplace and the window. 

“Those are your presents?” He asked, eyeing the small pile that lay at the bottom, still surrounded by torn shreds of wrapping paper.

“Yeah,” without even bothering to get to his feet, Ricky crawled over and held up various objects for him to see. There were sweets and silly games from his friends, a sweater from his mother and - Merlin forbid - a new skateboard from his father. EJ didn’t comment on the separate sets of presents, and instead amused Ricky with an entire new display of derogatory terms for the skateboard.

“Come on!” Ricky laughed “You’ve even almost learned how to ride it! You can’t still hate it.”

“What do you mean, almost?” EJ retorted immediately “I have perfectly mastered the basics, and as I forecasted, I did it in record time.” 

It hadn’t been too bad in the end, and EJ would have never given up until he managed to at least stay up on his own confidently, but he still preferred to use brooms, without question.

“If you call three hours to skate five meters without falling ‘record time’…” Ricky snickered.

“I was an excellent student. My teacher, however, was seriously lacking.” EJ crossed his arms over his chest; then Ricky sported an exaggerated pout, and he immediately wanted to kick himself for wishing he could take those words back. 

“Well, now you’ve said that, I won’t be giving you your Christmas present.”

EJ knew he shouldn’t have given so much weight to it, but Ricky had fished out a box from under the tree with EJ scribbled in his messy handwriting, and suddenly he felt a whole lump blocking his throat that left him unable to say anything. His heart thundered in his chest as he took the box from Ricky’s hands and opened it.

He’s got you a present. A present for you.

“No!” EJ exhaled, goggling at the inside of the box “Are these muggle pens?”

“Since you stole my Bic pen…” Ricky snickered, obviously very pleased with the reception his present had gotten. EJ was over the moon: he adored those pens, he’d been using the one he’d nicked from Ricky almost exclusively and he had found himself constantly clicking on it as a way to calm his nerves when studying.

“No way! In different colors? And what are these?” EJ spread his presents on the couch, still not truly believing that Ricky had gotten all of this for him. 

“This is a highlighter,” explained Ricky, bemused at his excitement for what he probably considered to be mundane objects. “Muggles use it to mark important words and phrases on books they’re studying. And these are page markers. You stick them to the important pages and the colored bit sticks out. Different colors so you can differentiate topics.”

EJ felt his lips tremble: he had no idea what was happening to him, but he felt a fire explode in his chest. Ricky had gotten him study stuff, and he wasn’t making fun of him. 

He noticed what you like to do. He noticed how you like to divide things. He got you different colors for everything.

EJ had always found it silly when people said that you can only know what it feels like to fall for someone once you’re already tumbling, but he got it now. Ricky was smiling at him holding a set of muggle stationery, and he’d hopelessly fallen for him.

“Thank you,” he whispered, feeling choked up. It was excessive, he knew it, and he didn’t want to freak Ricky with his exaggerated emotional reaction over pens and highlighters, but he’d fallen for him and there was no denying it now.

“It’s nothing,” Ricky shrugged. “I’m sure you got loads of better presents.”

Trying to get his bearings now that his world had shifted on its own axis, EJ shook his head.

“Not really,” he said, still unable to stop smiling at his new supplies. “My sister gave me a lovely handmade mug and Nini sent all the prefects a bag of customized candies, but that’s pretty much it.”

“Oh,” Ricky’s gave him a soft look from where he was sitting on the carpet “A handmade mug?”

EJ fished it from his bag that he’d carried all the way from his common room, and showed it to him: it was bright green, with a red blob that probably represented a Quaffle drawn with magical paint, so that it flew around the surface of the mug. The letters E and J glowed in silver at the bottom; Ricky pressed a hand on his mouth, completely endeared. 

“It’s amazing,” he said. “Your sister must be pretty great. Cordelia, right?”

“Yeah,” EJ sighed: he couldn’t believe that the next time he’d see her, he wouldn’t be a Hogwarts student anymore. “She’s like, the sweetest and most clever witch in the world. And yes, it’s Cordelia. Caswell names are always over the top.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Ricky quirked his eyebrows at him, and EJ knew he’d brought this conversation upon himself. “I don’t know your name, do I?”

EJ busied himself with putting all his new stationery back into the box, in neat order.

“No one does, except Ashlyn,” he pointed out. 

“Your classmates, though? They must have said your name at the Sorting in first year.” Ricky looked genuinely curious and EJ’s tongue tip prickled in temptation.

“They don’t,” he replied. “I had written an owl to the headmaster before the start of the year, formally submitting a request to have my full name remain non-disclosed. So, they called me EJ even at the Sorting.”

Ricky was looking at him the same way he’d looked at Cordelia’s mug, with shining eyes and a smile he could barely repress.

“I don’t believe it,” he laughed. “Little EJ, already giving people orders.”

“They were very understanding. Some kids found it strange and made fun of me for not wanting to tell my real name, but the Slytherin Head Boy at that time shut them up. And then he reassured me that whatever my name was, it probably couldn’t be as bad as his.” EJ said, recalling his first night in the castle. 

“Is that so?” Ricky inquired. It was obvious that he was restraining himself from straight up asking him what his full name was, and that made EJ want to tell him even more. 

He did show you the Room of Requirement, didn’t he?

“It’s a tough competition,” he finally said. “But Albus Severus is really worse than Eadric Julius.”

Ricky’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t laugh. The feeling of a weight being taken off his shoulders was becoming increasingly more common when he was with Ricky, EJ realized.

“It definitely is.” Ricky stated. “Eadric Julius… sounds important. Intimidating at first, but unquestionably unique. I think it suits you."

His smile was eloquent enough, and EJ racked his brain to find a snarky retort to that, but he couldn’t find one.

How do I tell you that I’m a little bit glad for our shitty family situations, because it brought us here together?

“For this, you’ve earned your Christmas present,” was all he ended up saying. Ricky lit up like a firework, and immediately tore into the small package that EJ had handed him. For all that he had proclaimed to hate his birthday, Ricky seemed to enjoy celebrating Christmas a lot more.

“A book?” He said with a skeptical smile; then he read the title on the cover and his eyes widened in shock “The complete guide to spellmaking?” He breathed out, disbelieving.

“There’s also a whole chapter on how to properly register your spells to the Ministry and the rules about magical laws that you should be careful not to experiment with.” EJ raised his eyebrows expectantly and Ricky let out a roaring burst of laughter. 

“Of course there is,” he said, caressing the book reverently. “EJ, this means a lot. Thank you.”

He smiled at him, and EJ noticed with a certain discomfort that his eyes looked watery.

“I - Ricky, are you crying?” He asked, incredulous.

“No!” Ricky denied, but he laughed as he dabbed his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. “Yes. I told you, I cry easily.”

Still on the carpet, he leaned his back against the couch where EJ was sitting and, without another word, he immediately dug into the book. The crackle of the fireplace was the only sound that filled the silence and EJ enjoyed the complete peacefulness: glancing at the window, he noticed that snow had indeed started to fall. He thought about telling Ricky, but he looked so focused on his book that he didn’t want to disturb him. EJ’s hand rested on the cushions of the couch, a few centimeters away from his mop of soft curly hair, and he wondered what it would be like to simply run his hand through it, having Ricky bend his neck towards him and…

Stop thinking about kissing him, for Merlin’s sake.

The warmth of the fireplace seemed to be heating him up from inside, and EJ busied himself with writing a long letter to Cordelia using one of his new pens, and answering to Ashlyn, who promised him a belated Christmas gift directly from Ancient Magical China. Ricky and him enjoyed each other’s quiet company for a while, until Ricky suddenly scrambled to his feet, making EJ jump in fright.

“What the hell?” 

“This is unbelievable!” Ricky left the book on the carpet and sprinted up the stairs to the rooms, returning less than a minute later with his wand in hand and a small, flat black… box?

“Are you alright?” EJ felt compelled to ask. Ricky had a euphoric look in his eyes. 

“Yes! I think it’s going to work!” Ricky flattened the book on a page that showed a diagram of what looked like a small solar system. “It’s the atomic structure of light combined with magic, I knew it!”

Ricky started to mutter under his breath while he picked apart the strange object he’d brought down, and EJ listened in amazement as he explained him his Charms project, how he was trying to make muggle tech work in Hogwarts and how this new concept that combined muggle physics and magical theory could be the key to solve it. He let him ramble for over twenty minutes, before Ricky came down from his high.

“Sorry,” he muttered sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. “I - you probably don’t care about this.”

EJ looked at him, completely wonderstruck. He already knew that Ricky was smart, but seeing him so passionate and apparently competent about such a complex subject was a novelty.

“Honestly, I understood only half the things you said.” he admitted. “But I got the general idea. Do you really think magic and muggle tech can be combined?”

“Yes,” Ricky enthused. “Yes, of course. I know it looks like they’re two completely different things - but in essence, they are the same, and they’re perfectly compatible.” 

Then his cheeks inexplicably turned bright red and he shut his mouth, looking down at his wand.

What…?

“Is that why you’re taking Muggle Studies?” EJ wondered, and when Ricky laughed, he sounded slightly breathless. 

“To be honest, I chose it in third year because I wanted an easy O.” he heartily confessed. “But after the O.W.L.s yeah, I find it helpful to see how wizards study muggles.”

“I’ve said it already, but I’m impressed,” said EJ. More like completely smitten. “You could really make a living out of this.”

“What about you?” Ricky asked, looking pleased “What do you want to do next year?”

EJ shrugged noncommittally. 

“If I can, I’d like to get into the Ministry. My parents want me to go straight to the Department of International Magical Cooperation, but that’s where they work and no, thanks,” he grimaced, and Ricky listened without commenting. “So, I was thinking, the Department of Magical Games and Sports.” 

“You’ll make it for sure,” Ricky smiled at him confidently “You’re both Head Boy and Quidditch Captain, and that’s been for the last, what, three years?”

“But we’ve never won the Cup” EJ whispered more to himself than Ricky, heart pounding against his chest. The memories of the previous year still tasted bitter in the back of his mouth, and he did his best to not let them ruin what was probably one of the best moments in his year so far.

“Winning is not always the most important thing,” said Ricky softly, and EJ’s heart bolted up to his throat. Does he know? “Plus, you still have this year. I might even cheer for Slytherin at the next game, if you promise to end your crusade against my skateboard.”

EJ scoffed, pushing him lightly on the shoulder. 

“You wish,” he said, and a sudden idea flashed in his mind. “By the way, I have actually learned to use that thing. Don’t you think it’s about time you learn how to fly, too?”

“I do not,” Ricky replied, in a perfect imitation of EJ’s most dignified tone. “Skateboards are way safer than flying cleaning tools.” 

“Excuse me, where’s your daring, nerve, and all the other qualities you Gryffindors constantly like to brag about?” EJ teased. “What would Godric say if he knew you’re being outbraved by a sneaky Slytherin?”

Ricky shot him a fiery glare and EJ was reminded of a thing he’d said that night of what felts like months, and not weeks ago, in the Potions classroom: “Don’t tempt me, I find it really hard to resist to challenges.” EJ was counting on it.

“Sneaky is the right word.” Ricky accused him, threateningly waving his wand “Of course I have to do it, if you put it like that! But it’s far too cold outside, and you’re not dragging me out in the snow.”

EJ smiled at him triumphantly, and imitated Ricky’s cheeky smile. 

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I know just the place.”

Thursday, December 31st
Room of Requirement

EJ paced around what had once been the Room of Requirement, looking rather pleased with himself: he’d told Ricky he would take care of asking the Room for what they would need, and now they were standing in the middle of a grassy field, EJ’s Firebolt at their feet. Ricky could barely see the walls given how big the Room had become for them, and the ceiling seemed to stretch for at least a mile above their heads. He looked at EJ in complete wonder.

“How on Earth did you manage to get the Room to do this?” He said. He didn’t know if he was imagining it, but there was even a faint warm breeze that moved the top of the grass, and Ricky had no idea where all the sunlight could come from. 

“I told you it would have been better to let me do the thinking,” EJ smugly retorted.

“Let me remind you that I’ve invented more than one nasty jinx, and I’m not afraid to test them out,” Ricky grumbled, eyeing the Firebolt with slight discomfort. He still remembered the nightmare that flying classes had been in first year: he’d showed up only because Nini and Big Red had all but fished him out of his dorm room, and after he’d lifted five feet in the air, he’d risked being sick all over his friends’ shoes.

“Come on,” EJ smiled at him, reassuringly, and Ricky hoped against hope he wouldn’t end up vomiting on him. He watched him mount on his broom with the confidence of the experienced Quidditch player and then nod at him. “You don’t have to do anything, just get on and hold tight.”

Ricky gulped down the acid taste of his own bile and took a deep breath, mounting on the Firebolt behind EJ. The idea of leaving the solid ground beneath his feet made his head spin, and he wasn’t so sure it was only his fear of falling that made him feel like that. It was the same kind of fear he felt when he thought about his parents splitting up, whenever he had to confront himself with the unknown: the fear of not being able to find his bearings, to lose himself in a new situation.

Ricky circled EJ’s waist with his arms and closed his fist around the soft wool of his sweater: he couldn’t let his fear hold him down like this, he just couldn’t. And he knew EJ would never let him fall: if he’d managed to ride a skateboard in that same room, less than a week before, Ricky would prove he could be just as brave.

“I’m going to kick off the ground now, okay? Not by much, and I’ll count to three.”

“Okay.” Ricky hated how small his voice sounded, and he couldn’t help himself: on EJ’s three he yelped and screwed his eyes shut, as he felt his stomach drop and his feet lose touch with the grass.

“Are you ok?” EJ asked, his voice sounding slightly strained, probably because of how tight Ricky’s arms were around his chest. 

Focusing on EJ’s solid warmth to ground himself, Ricky breathed through his nose a couple of times before opening his eyes. And then he widened them. 

“Yo,” he said “Looks cool from here.”

EJ turned his head a few centimeters and Ricky saw him smiling. They were less than five meters up, gently suspended in midair, and until he kept his hands fastened around EJ’s sweater and took deep breaths, Ricky didn’t feel so nauseous anymore.

Gradually, EJ started flying around the room at increasing speed, and Ricky couldn’t believe himself - he was actually enjoying it. The grass looked like a flowing green sea, and the gentle wind in his face felt amazing, clearing his head from the thoughts that had been bundling up in his mind.

“Can I try?” He shouted, after a while. EJ’s grin almost split his face, as if he had been waiting only for that moment. He quickly landed and gave Ricky instructions on how to control the broom, how much pressure to apply when kicking off - and then they exchanged places. The wooden handle of the broom was warm under his touch, and EJ’s arms around his waist kept him steady. Ricky felt a thrill of adrenaline run through his body, looked at the ground beneath his feet, and kicked off.

“RICKY!” EJ’s panicked shriek deafened him. “FOR MERLIN’S SAKE! SLOW DOWN!”

Ricky’ laughter was euphoric: it was the best feeling ever. He had no idea how he could have been so afraid of flying before: EJ’s Firebolt answered to his touch with no hesitation, and he found it incredibly easy to speed up, steer, even point the broom towards the ceiling and immediately rise another ten meters. EJ was pressed against his back and he was obviously restraining himself from shouting insults in his ear for being so reckless, but Ricky knew now why everyone seemed to be so mad about flying. 

“Can I try a loop the loop?” He shouted, already laughing.

“WHAT - NO! Do that and I swear I’ll burn down your common room, Ricky!”

Ricky couldn’t stop laughing, as he steered quickly and pointed the broom towards the other end of the room, flattening against the handle of the broom to bring the Firebolt to a quick acceleration.

Around two hours later, Ricky and EJ were laying side by side in the grass, eyes closed while they caught their breaths. EJ had summoned another broom and they’d ended up chasing each other around; Ricky had even tried a dive, much to EJ’s consternation.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad,” said Ricky, crossing his arms behind his head. EJ remained silent for a moment beside him, and he held a chuckle because he knew it was one of those moments when the Slytherin simply couldn’t decide how to better express his outrage.

“The antidote to common poisons you prepared yesterday wasn’t so bad,” he finally spat out, and Ricky opened his eyes and saw he’d propped himself up on his elbow, his brows furrowed, “What you did today? You’re a fucking natural, Ricky.”

EJ’s eyes looked greener than usual, and there was a tinge of envy to his tone that Ricky didn’t really know how to process. The idea that someone like EJ, who was probably the most accomplished Hogwarts student since Hermione Granger herself, could envy someone like him was weirdly unsettling.

“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” he said. EJ’s gaze immediately softened, and he laid on his back once again, their shoulders almost touching.

“It’s not. But it makes me so mad that you have all this talent and you’re only finding out now,” he replied.

“You don’t know the half of my secret talents,” Ricky joked; he didn’t know how it was possible, but the bright sunlight had started to fade into the orange hue of sunset. If someone had told him at the beginning of term that he would be checking into the new year side by side with EJ Caswell, after he’d taught him how to fly, Ricky would have suggested to check for a Confundus spell in action.

“Are you talking about those mad music skills you’ve been hiding from Flitwick and the Frog Choir?” EJ’s smirk resounded through his voice and Ricky’s eyes snapped open.

“What -?”

“Come on,” EJ smiled teasingly. “You’re constantly singing to yourself. I have ears, you know.”

Ricky thought his heart was about to flee from his chest. 

“I mean - yes, I like to sing,” he shrugged. “I play guitar, too. So what?” 

He wasn’t shy about it. Until his House had started avoiding him as if his bad habit of losing them points could be infectious, he used to strum along in the common room pretty often. Sometimes even Kourtney sang with him.

“Nothing,” said EJ, trying to maintain a casual tone. He relaxed against the grass, sighing heavily.

“Would you like to hear something?” Ricky rolled his eyes, amused. EJ’s face lit up instantly, and he sat up. 

“Yes, please!”

Ricky wasn’t even surprised when, after concentrating for a second, the Room gave EJ a muggle guitar that he passed on to him, expectantly. Ricky sat crossed legged in front of him, embracing the guitar and keeping his eyes on his fingers while he tried to decide what to sing. He wasn’t shy, but there was something about having EJ’s sole attention that made him want to deliver a perfect performance. He let his fingers strike the chords on instinct, playing the soft melody of an old muggle song his dad loved.

“So, you think you can tell heaven from hell? Blue skies from pain?”

EJ’s eyes burned on his skin as he listened, completely rapt; Ricky let the music flow and for the first time he found himself thinking that maybe, just maybe, something good had come from all that mess with his parents. He had no idea what would happen once the new term started, once Christmas holidays ended and the bubble in which EJ and him had been building their strange friendship inevitably burst. But he knew that he was feeling at peace with himself for the first time in months, and until this lasted, he would be happy to forget the rest of the world.

“We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl, year after year. Running over the same old ground, what have we found? The same old fears…”

Chapter Text

Thursday, January 7th
The Gryffindor Dormitories

It was a gray morning when Ricky woke up and took a sleepy look out of the window of his dormitories to try and guess the time. The sun must have been up for hours, but the gloomy clouds didn’t let much light through, so the sixth year’s male dormitories in the Gryffindor Tower were still immersed in semi-darkness. Batting his eyelids to chase away the sleep, Ricky noticed he was still wearing yesterday’s clothes; he sat up, a little confused, and was startled by the faint noise of someone snoring in the bed right beside his.

Ricky gulped, looking at EJ’s sleeping form: all at once, last night’s memories came back to him.

The silence in Gryffindor’s common room had started to feel eerie once again, so Ricky had fished out an old magical radio, the book EJ had gotten him for Christmas, and his wand: he started toying around with the frequencies, trying to see if he could reach some muggle radio station. Even though the new wave of Wizarding Rock was producing some pretty interesting tunes, Ricky feared that the Christmas holidays were still being held hostage by Celestina Warbeck and her 80 year old ballads about love potions. It took him ten solid minutes but, all of a sudden, the strumming of a guitar filled the room and Ricky recognized the voice of a very non-magical pop singer that Nini had become crazy about when she was thirteen and had spent the summer with her muggle cousin.

He’d done it! Ricky was so beyond euphoric that he didn’t mind the ultra-cheesy pop song: he dropped his wand and started dancing along, humming to the upbeat melody. That was, until he turned around in a pirouette and froze at the sight of EJ standing beside the entrance passage, shining green eyes and an expression of pure delight on face.

“Why did you stop?” He teased, without any heat to it. “You were really shaking it off there.”

Fuck it. Ricky was too happy to let the embarrassment faze him. He shook his shoulders and took some dancing steps towards the middle of the room, gesturing for EJ to join him in time with the song. 

‘And to the fella over there, with the hella good hair…’

“Come on, man!” Ricky laughed “I made it, I got a muggle frequency! Dance with me!”

EJ looked torn between the temptation to let a little loose and the obvious discomfort he felt every time there was the tiniest possibility of making a fool of himself. Ricky grabbed his hand and forced him into a twirl, laughing; EJ almost lost his balance. 

“I don’t dance, Ricky!” He protested. But he swung slowly on his feet from left to right, trying to keep the time. Rick resisted the urge to lead him into a silly tango: EJ was making an effort, and he felt strangely proud.

Ricky smiled to himself, eyes trailed on EJ’s vague frown; maybe he was dreaming about skateboarding. They’d talked until the early hours and had ended up falling asleep without even realizing it. It took Ricky a while to remember why he was feeling sadly nostalgic, as he listened to EJ’s light snore. Yesterday was the last day of holidays, and Ricky couldn’t believe how fast the time had seemed to pass. They hadn’t managed to break into the Hufflepuff common room, despite an intensive effort from both their parts: EJ had apparently forgotten it all about the rule breaking and I-could-lose-my-badge argument, confronted with the dishonor of not being able to outsmart a Hufflepuff. Ricky had managed to get rid of his disgruntled frown only by suggesting they went flying again, then it had taken him hours to repress the satisfaction he’d felt when he’d seen EJ’s face light up at his idea. Ricky had no idea of what would happen to the almost symbiotic relationship they’d developed over the past two weeks; he could hardly believe it, but they had basically spent every minute together, and the weirdest thing was that neither of them had seemed to grow tired of it.

But Christmas was over, the rest of the school was about to fill the corridors again, and… 

“Ricky! Man, are you awake?” Big Red’s excited shout traveled all the way up the spiral staircase, and Ricky's blood froze.

… and EJ should not have been there.

Ricky scrambled to his feet, almost getting stuck in the velvet curtains of his bedpost, and threw himself at EJ, scrolling him awake.

“What the fuck?” He angrily hissed, hair all bent to the side and eyes still heavy with sleep. Hadn’t Ricky been in such a frenzied state, he’d have stopped to take a good look.

“People are coming back!” Ricky whispered back, pushing EJ off the bed and towards the small closet that held all his clothes “Big Red’s here, and you shouldn’t be!”

“Fuck,” EJ’s eyes widened and climbed into the closet; Ricky closed the door behind him just in time before Big Red came striding in with a smile that went from ear to ear, impatient to see his best friend.

“Hey man!” Ricky plastered an identical grin on his face and went to greet him. “You’re here already!”

“What do you mean, already?” Big Red asked. “It’s almost noon.”

“Oh,” Ricky was aware that his smile must look ferocious more than excited by now “I must have overslept.”

He waited, horrified, as his friend glanced around the room, with EJ’s bag at the bottom of one of the two beds that looked obviously slept in.

“Are you ok, Ricky?” said Big Red “Your voice sounds weirdly high.”

“Yes!” He shrieked, then coughed. “No, I caught a little cold yesterday. Listen, let’s go to lunch, alright?” 

Big Red was still looking at him with a mix of amusement and bewilderment and Ricky knew that he must have realized what was going on.

“Yeah. I have to go to the loo first though” said Big Red, mercifully not commenting before he disappeared in the bathroom. Ricky silently walked over to the closet and pried it open: EJ’s green eyes were glaring at him from beneath a pile of Gyffindor uniforms.

“This is my nightmare, Ricky,” he hissed furiously. “My nightmare, you hear me?”

“You’ll have to sneak out,” retorted Ricky, biting his lip. “Maybe if you wear one of my uniforms…”

“I’d rather make out with the Giant Squid,” EJ spat back earnestly.

“Come on, I’m trying to think!” Ricky muttered, racking his brain for a way to get EJ out of there without anyone noticing.

“I’ll make myself at home then.” EJ snarkily retorted, holding one of his ties like it were a dead mouse “Have you ever untied this in the last six years?” He asked, without hiding his disgust. Despite the trouble they were in, Ricky had to bite back a laugh.

“Shut up,” he snickered. “Unless you come up with a better idea, you’ll have to move here permanently.”

“You’re the one who’s constantly sneaking in and out of common rooms.” EJ started toying with his tie, wrapping it around his fingers, and for some reason it made Ricky feel a little less steady on his feet. Then Big Red noisily came out of the bathroom, and Ricky snapped the closet door shut once again.

“Why are you talking to your closet, man?” Asked Big Red, blue eyes the size of golden galleons, and Ricky’s heart fluttered in panic like the wings of a hummingbird. Part of himself knew that it was stupid to hide EJ from Big Red like that - they’d just fallen asleep in the same room, nothing weird had happened - but at the same time he felt like he had to protect a secret, something precious that would be inevitably ruined once it became common knowledge.

“I’m talking to myself.” Ricky knew he was a terrible liar, but he still tried. “Been doing that a lot, you know, these days.”

“Why?” Big Red’s mouth hung open, genuinely surprised. “I thought you and EJ would spend time together.”

There was no reason that justified Ricky’s cheeks turning the color of beetroots.

“Yeah,” he said, painfully aware of the fact that EJ could hear every word and coughed. “All the time.”

Big Red cocked his head to the side, studying Ricky as if he were a Potions experiment. 

“You didn’t kill him, did you? Carlos and I had a bet about who of you would have made it to the new year.” Big Red flashed him a proud smile “I knew I was putting my money on the winning hippogriff.”

Ricky run his hands over his face to hide his despair. If he didn’t find a way to get Big Red out of that room in the next minute, his nervous system would collapse.

“No, dude, I did not commit homicide over the holidays,” he sighed. And then, because he never really thought things through, he blushed deeply again and added. “It was kind of fun, actually.”

He didn’t know what reaction he’d expected from Big Red but certainly it wasn’t a grin of pure joy, as if Ricky had just told him he’d invented a spell to evoke a fountain of golden coins.

“Cool, man,” he said, way more emotionally than Ricky deemed necessary for the conversation. “Coming from you, ‘kind of fun’ basically means ‘I had the time of my life’.”

“Yes, okay” Ricky strode forward, unable to bear the tension any longer, and grabbed hold of Big Red’s arm to guide him down the stairs “Let’s go to lunch, okay? Maybe EJ’s already there and he can tell you about how much fun I made Christmas.”

Ricky stormed down the spiral staircase with Big Red on his heels peppering him with questions and made sure he commented loudly on the fact the common room was still empty. He couldn’t decide if he’d just imagined the faint laughter coming from his closet, while he closed the dorm room’s door behind him and his best friend.

Tuesday, January 12th
Hogwarts Library

Big Red knew one main thing about himself: he was an excellent observer. He often preferred to stand back and go with the flow whenever a tricky situation presented itself, and although it might take him some time, he usually managed to adapt to pretty much anything that life threw his way. That particular characteristic of his personality had made him, if he may say so himself, an excellent friend for Ricky Bowen. They’d met on the Hogwarts Express when Ricky was still an anxious and shy Muggleborn first year, stuck like glue to Nini’s uniform hem, and his main concerns were smuggling a skateboard into Hogwarts and whether he’d ever be able to make friends and survive in the wizarding world. Then they’d lived through five full years of Ricky becoming an anxious but self-confident young wizard, with an excellent talent to put himself in trouble that more often than not Big Red participated in. 

If there was one thing that Big Red had learned from his time as Ricky’s best friend, it was what to do whenever his friend started gazing into the void for no apparent reason, the corners of his mouth often dragging down, and his usual appetite for chatter nowhere to be found. At times like these, Big Red had learned at his expense that trying to cheer him up would be counterproductive and asking him directly what was bothering him would only result in Ricky denying that anything was wrong at all, and closing himself up even more. So Big Red would stand back, observe, and make sure Ricky always knew where to find him in case of necessity. He’d never been very good with words, anyway.

“Man, are we going to the library after class?” Big Red asked, once he’d licked his plate clean. “Ricky?”

“Uh?” Ricky’s head snapped up: Big Red had watched his friend spend the better part of lunch staring into the bottom of his tomato soup as if it could solve the problem that he’d encountered during his Charm project. He hadn’t even noticed Nini and Gina leaving, five minutes earlier. 

“Library. After class. Potions report to finish?” Big Red repeated, expectantly. 

“Oh,” Ricky looked down at his soup with such intensity that for a second Big Red feared he would start crying. “I already finished mine, during the holidays.”

Big Red wasn’t sure how to answer that: it was the first time in six years that Ricky was ahead of his homework schedule in a subject that wasn’t Charms.

“What?”

“EJ gave me a hand,” Ricky forced a small smile on his face, but he looked as if he’d swallowed a lemon.

Ricky ended up following him to the library anyway, deciding to use the time to… stare at his charms notes without really seeing them, apparently. 

The thing about Ricky and EJ was, Big Red had been sure that the Christmas holidays had been a game-changer for the two of them. If they hadn’t started dating then they must at least have snogged each other’s faces into the new year, because what other reason would there be for EJ hiding in Ricky’s closet secret lover style when he’d arrived at Hogwarts last week? Ricky had blushed like a third year girl on her first Hogsmeade date when giving Big Red a vague recount of the two weeks of holidays, and he’d seemed in a way too good mood for his standards. 

So, when the term had started and the return of Ricky’s musings coincided with the vanishing of any kind of interaction between him and EJ, Big Red had stopped pretending he’d understood anything of what was going on. He wouldn’t even worry too much about it - after all, Ricky’s business was his alone - if not for the fact that the sudden radio silence between his best friend and EJ might put an uncomfortable strain on the relationship Big Red was very much hoping to begin soon with Ashlyn. 

Even just thinking about her felt like a flock of Cornish pixies had been released in his stomach; seeingher waving silently at him, half hidden behind a bookshelf behind Ricky’s shoulders, with her pretty brown eyes and a Ravenclaw bandana to keep her long hair at bay, almost made him spill his bottle of ink all over his homework. 

Ashlyn was gesturing for him to come over, a finger pressed to her lips and an eloquent look directed at Ricky’s back. So, she wasn’t going to take him to a romantic spot in a secluded tower to declare her undying love for him. Probably. Unfortunately.  

“Hey man,” Big Red whispered, throwing a piece of balled up parchment at Ricky to wake him from his self-induced trance. “I’m going to the bathroom. Keep an eye on my stuff?”

Ricky nodded absent-mindedly and began tracing his wand over the words on his notebook, making them dance around the paper to form unintelligible shapes. Without pausing to check if they would end up portraying EJ’s trademark knowing smirk, Big Red followed Ashlyn down the narrow library aisles. She gifted him with one of her dazzling smiles but didn’t say anything. She led him to a small table in one of the less frequented areas of the library, where a small council of people seemed to be waiting just for him. Gina was sitting on the table, arms crossed over her chest; Nini twirled one of her braids between her fingers, nervously glancing behind the bookshelves, and Carlos had his chin on his hand and seemed to be bursting with the desire to say something.

“Where’s Ricky?” Gina asked in a hurried whisper. Big Red pointed his thumb behind his shoulders.

“Down there. Antidotes and Animal Poisons section, sulking hard.” he said.

“I think we have to do something about this,” said Gina, while Ashlyn and Big Red took seats around the table. 

“I’m not so sure,” Nini bit her lip, hesitantly. “I mean, it’s not really our business…”

“He’s taught him to fly,” Gina replied drily. “Something I’ve been trying to do for over a year. And now they’re not even speaking to each other, of course we have to do something.”

“I say broom closet, a good sealing spell on the door…” suggested Carlos, eyes twinkling.

“Guys” Big Red raised his hand and Ashlyn chuckled “Can you please tell me what’s going on?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” the smartest, prettiest girl in the world told him. “What’s been going on between EJ and Ricky since the start of term.”

“Oh” Big Red nodded “I figured they were dating or something, but now I’m not so sure”

“Right?” Despite herself, Nini leaned forward. “They’ve been acting so strange! Before Christmas it seemed that they were friends, then they’ve been alone here for two weeks and no one really knows what happened…”

“Except that EJ got Ricky on a broom and apparently he’s got a natural flying talent.” Gina pointed out; it was obvious that she was trying to decide whether she was mad at EJ for succeeding in something she’d been trying to do for ages or delighted at the news. 

“And Ricky let him use his skateboard, apparently,” Nini’s eyes opened wide.

“They gave each other Christmas presents...”

“Kourtney says the Fat Lady told her something about a Slytherin sneaking into Gryffindor Tower at all times...”

Big Red wasn’t going to add the closet story because he didn’t go around spilling Ricky’s secrets, but he was glad that he wasn’t alone in finding the whole ordeal more than suspicious.

“Then why aren’t they eating each other’s faces off behind every suit of armor?” In front of everyone’s grimaces, Carlos snorted loudly. “Come on, you’ve seen how they bicker all the time. Do you really think they’d be the tender kisses type?”

“Carlos!” Nini scolded, while Gina exhibited a scowl. 

“Does Seb know you have these thoughts while he’s busy tutoring first years in Greenhouse One?” she commented, and Carlos flipped her off.

“Thank you for the very unnecessary visuals about my cousin,” Ashlyn pushed Carlos’s shoulder lightly. “But I agree, EJ’s been vague about it too. I asked him if everything was alright and why they weren’t talking, and he just told me that everything was fine. Then he shouted at a painting that was ‘being insolent’.” Ashlyn gave them an eloquent look.

“Why don’t they just hang out? It’s not like there’s anything weird with that.” Big Red reasoned.

“I asked EJ, and I think his exact words were something like, ‘Ask him to hang out? Why don’t I just steal the sword of Gryffindor from Flitwick’s office, aim it at my neck and tell him to slice away?’”

Her spitting imitation of EJ’s dramatic tone had them all snickering for a good five minutes, and when they finally calmed down Carlos wiped a tear from his eyes and Big Red couldn’t look at Ashlyn for more than two seconds at a time without fearing that his adoration for her would become too apparent.

“Trying to convince Ricky to take the initiative will do no good,” Nini sighed “It’ll just upset him.”

“We need to be smart about this,” Carlos pursed his lips and adjusted the glasses on his nose “Luckily, I have a plan.”

Everyone leaned forward, and after Carlos explained what he had in mind, Big Red had to hand it to him: Slytherins did have a knack for plots and conspiracies.

Saturday, January 16th 
The Hog’s Head

Ricky drove his stiff hands deeper down the pockets of his winter coat, hunching his shoulders: it was a sunny morning, but the temperature outside was freezing and the ice-covered ground creaked beneath their feet at every step. Nini had a death grip on Gina’s arm, because she’d already risked falling at least twice since the three of them and Big Red had left Hogwarts to head towards the village of Hogsmeade.

Ricky knew that his friends hoped that a trip to the Three Broomsticks and Weasley Wizards Wheezes would cheer him up, but the closer they got to Hogsmeade, the more Ricky’s thoughts drifted to the last time he’d been there on his birthday, and to everything else that had happened that day.

“Three Broomsticks?” He sighed, when the pub came in sight. 

“No, let’s go to the Hog’s Head!” Big Red exclaimed “Much less crowded and I still haven’t seen it”

“Yeah, great!” Nini nodded a little too enthusiastically, but Ricky didn’t stop to ponder that, or Gina’s not-too-subtle eye-roll. He simply followed his friends down the road, keeping his eyes trailed on his feet when he passed the Post Office, and did his best to avoid wondering where EJ might be.

The thing was, everything had gone exactly as Ricky had feared: it was undeniable that EJ and him had become friends over the holidays - if friends was even the right word - but then the new term had started, everyone came back and suddenly he didn’t know how to act around EJ anymore. He knew that their friends’ curiosity over how they’d been spending their time was perfectly legitimate, but Ricky couldn’t help feeling like they were some kind of trick show that everyone wanted to see, and he hated it. He had enough trouble trying to figure out the nature of his relationship with EJ without everyone shining a spotlight on it, thank you very much.

So, Ricky had dealt with the issue in the same way he always dealt with his anxiety: he ignored it altogether. The problem was that he hadn’t taken into account how shitty that would make him feel.

Ricky held the Hog’s Head door open for his friends without looking up from his feet, still lost in his thoughts: from his part, EJ hadn’t seemed to be interested in hanging out with Ricky either. The usual routine of classes, homework and Quidditch training must have taken his mind off of their late-night talks and common rooms trespassing, and Ricky bitterly thought that it was better like this. Without him putting himself in trouble on purpose, they would never even have started talking: why would things have to be different now? 

“Wow, this place looks great!” Ricky followed Big Red’s excited finger pointing at the ceiling and admitted that the Hog’s Head had indeed been cleaned up pretty nicely. An Irish family of six siblings had bought it after the precedent owner’s death and had turned it into what would soon become a favorite for young wizards: Ricky admired the magical glass ceiling and the hard polished floors, but then his attention was captured by a small group sitting at a big table near the back. 

“Hi guys!” Ashlyn was gesturing enthusiastically towards them: she sat beside Seb and Carlos, but Ricky’s eyes zeroed in on the familiar figure of a seventh year Slytherin that was in turn looking at him as if Harry Potter himself had just walked through the door. Before Ricky even had the time to process what was happening, Gina and Nini had dragged him forward and he found himself sitting right next to EJ, their shoulders pressed together on the wooden bench.

For a moment, Ricky thought he’d been forcibly pushed into a jar of thick jelly: every movement was strenuous, and he felt like air simply couldn’t find its way to his lungs. What would EJ say, seeing him after almost two weeks? Was he angry? What would everyone think? 

Ricky was already halfway to a panic attack, when EJ nudged his shoulder, gave him a small smile and said:

“Hey, stranger.”

The tension melted so quickly that Ricky was left feeling dizzy.

“Hey,” he answered, hating how his voice trembled. EJ seemed pretty happy just looking at him, as if he’d forgotten what he looked like during the two weeks that they spent apart.

“The corridors have been eerily quiet lately,” EJ said tentatively. “Is this the calm before the storm? Are you planning your final strike on the school rules system?” 

“Don’t tell me you’ve missed me,” Ricky replied immediately. Relief washed over him, soothing like balm on a burn: EJ didn’t hate him, after all. And only now that he was sitting beside him once again, Ricky realized how much he had missed EJ. He took in his perfectly styled dark hair, the neat collar of his dark shirt peeking out of the soft white sweater Ricky had held on to when he first mounted a broomstick, and his kind, inquisitive green eyes. Glancing around the table, Ricky ascertained that none of their friends were making goggling eyes at them, and he released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding: Godric, he’d been such an idiot.

“Maybe I have,” EJ was smirking, but Ricky now knew him well enough to recognize the sincerity in the soft curve of his eyebrows and the crinkles beside his eyes. “No one trying to convince me that Bans are acceptable shoes to wear with the school uniform.” 

Ricky slapped a hand on his mouth to repress a booming laugh.

“It’s Vans,” he corrected, endeared. He felt like someone had poured hot butterbeer in his chest and now a pleasant warmth was spreading all over his body. “And they’re perfectly acceptable, I have already proven that to you.”

“That’s debatable,” EJ’s eyebrows raised. “But I’ll take Vans over skateboards any day.”

Ricky rolled his eyes, but before he could reply to that, it was Nini who intervened. 

“So, it’s true?” She marveled. “You really learned how to skate, EJ?”

“Learned is a bit of an overstretch,” Ricky teased, earning a reproachful look from the Slytherin. 

“Don’t listen to him.” He quickly interjected. “I learned perfectly; I just chose not ride it more than once.”

Ricky laughed along with everyone else, and before he realized it, they had dived into a full retelling of their skating and flying adventures over the holidays. It was easy, natural and fun. Ricky could hardly remember the last time he’d felt so relaxed, even with his friends. EJ and him agreed with a silent look to skip the Ravenclaw common room trespassing expedition, and if the others found their behavior a little curious, no one commented on it.

It was only after hours of joking around, shopping and filling their stomachs with Honeydukes treats that the group decided to head back to Hogwarts, the sun curving low on the horizon and tinging the clouds red over the treetops. He and EJ had been left at the back of the group and Ricky was starting to think that their friends were doing that intentionally, but he didn’t let himself indulge in the idea. He listened as EJ told him about his sister’s trip to Australia, noting the soft look he got whenever he talked about her.

“So apparently she did some accidental magic and my Gran had to get the help of some indigenous warlocks to retrieve her from this ancient sacred cave… she said she wanted to explore.” He sighed, shaking his head.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, if I’m being honest,” laughed Ricky. “I feel like your sister and I could get along really well.”

EJ studied him intensely and Ricky nervously licked his lips. 

“Yeah,” he said. “That’s what worries me.”

When they crossed the school gates at the end of the path to Hogsmeade, they noticed that their friends were all standing in a circle, immersed in a discussion.

“That’s not why it doesn’t work,” Nini was telling a disgruntled Gina “It’s that you get distracted. Try and forget everything else and focus, look.”

Nini closed her eyes and everyone looked at her: she furrowed her brows in concentration, took a deep breath and exclaimed: 

“Expecto Patronum!”

A jet of light exploded from her wand and the silver, wispy form of a robin flew around her, inspiring a chorus of admiration from the rest of the group.

Then, 

“Expecto Patronum!”, and Big Red’s Labrador chased the little bird around. Soon, everyone had drawn their wands: Gina exulted when the huge form of a silver bear erupted from her wand, followed by Kourtney’s panther, Ashlyn’s owl, Seb’s cow and Carlos’s peacock.

Even EJ was ready to show off. 

“Expecto Patronum!” He exclaimed. Everyone was left speechless when an enormous silver octopus extended its tentacles, floating peacefully in midair. 

“An octopus?” Gina marveled “That’s so unusual!”

“Highly intelligent, too,” commented EJ smugly, reserving a look of affection for his patronus before it vanished, leaving behind a silver vapor that sparkled in the light of the sunset.

Ricky was frozen on the spot, and it was like the warmth that had comforted him during the whole day had been taken away all of a sudden, leaving his blood ice cold. He felt everyone’s eyes fixed on himself.

“Come on, Ricky,” said Carlos excitedly. “You’re the only one missing!” 

“Yeah, don’t be shy.” Gina laughed. “Yours can’t be worse than Carlos’s.” 

Ricky tried his best to smile along with everyone else, but he felt nauseous.

“I…” he tried; his voice hoarse “I don’t think so.”

“Come on man,” Big Red cheered him on. “Hey, I don’t think I’ve ever seen your patronus!”

Ricky took a deep breath and kept his eyes on the ground, unable to look his friends in the face. He noticed EJ stiffen beside him.

“No, you haven’t.” He managed to say. “Because I can’t make one.”

“Yes, you can,” Ricky looked up to see Big Red giving him wide eyes. “We learned it last year in Defense class.”

Ricky stared at him, his mind completely blank. He still remembered the shame he’d felt, watching everyone else wonder at each other’s patronuses while he stood with his wand limp in his hand, unable to produce anything more than a faint trace of gray smoke. He remembered the disappointment and the panic and the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, and he felt it all come back to him now, with his friends’ eyes all pointed on him and on the mess he was.

“But it’s not that hard, Ricky,” said Nini kindly. “Gina was having trouble too, but all you have to do is choose one of your happiest memories and -”

“I just can’t do it, okay?” Ricky shouted, the hatred he felt towards himself increasing tenfold when Nini flinched at his words. He couldn’t bear it one second longer: he turned his back on his friends, and let his feet take him away as fast as possible without breaking into a run. He stopped only when he reached the shore of the lake: taking in a shaky breath, he aimed at a small rock and kicked it towards the water; the heavy splash covered the abrupt sob he didn’t manage to hold in his throat. 

He didn’t notice that someone had followed him until he heard his name being called out softly.

“Ricky?” 

Turning, Ricky felt even worse: he was seconds away from crying, and EJ was the last person he’d want to witness him crumbling. At the same time though, he felt the familiar impulse of instinctive trust for EJ, and the words came to his lips before he could stop them. 

“I know.” He said, self-deprecation heavy in his voice. “It’s pathetic and depressing that I can’t make a Patronus.”

“I never said that.” EJ looked him straight in the eyes: he was worried, but not pitying him.

“But it is,” spat Ricky. “I am too weak.”

Admitting it felt almost like a liberation: Ricky dug his fingers into the palms of his hands and focused on repressing his tears. 

“You’re not, Ricky.” EJ replied immediately, taking a step forward. “You’re a brilliant wizard, probably the most talented Charms student that Hogwarts has ever seen. If you can’t make a Patronus, it’s got nothing to do with weakness.”

Breathing was getting increasingly difficult and Ricky focused on the regular lapping of the waves on the stony shore.

“It’s the happy memory part,” he finally said in a choked murmur. “Every time I try to think about my happiest memory, it has to do with my parents.”

He’d never told anybody: speaking about his parents was difficult and scary, as if saying the words out loud made the situation more real.

“What is it about your parents?” EJ asked kindly, and Ricky’s heart leaped in his throat. 

“You’ve seen my Boggart, EJ. What do you think it means?” He whispered, voice hoarse, finally staring back at EJ. It was the first time either of them had mentioned that incident; Ricky was sure EJ must have put two and two together when he’d learned that he wouldn’t go home for Christmas. 

“I... got the general idea,” was all he said, green eyes attentive but careful. Ricky swallowed down the lump in his throat. EJ hadn’t hesitated to put himself between him and the Boggart, and he'd kept his word: he'd never said anything about what had happened. Maybe Ricky could trust him with the unspeakable, sad truth.

“They’ve been fighting for ages. And now they’re splitting up, for real, and my mum, she - she’s moving back to America, where she grew up.” 

Saying it out loud was almost more painful than reading it on the letter he’d received at the beginning of November. He closed his eyes, unable to face the look of pity that EJ must undoubtedly be sporting now, and gave in to the silent tears that started streaming down his face.

“I see.” Said EJ quietly. 

“Sometimes I think... I think it’s my fault.” Ricky bit his lip - he didn’t know what persuaded him to talk like that, but EJ was in front of him, listening without making stupid comments or trying to reassure him that everything would be ok, and it meant more to Ricky than he could possibly put into words. “It’s my fault that I couldn’t make her stay. I mean, I get that she wants to leave my dad and - and maybe that will be good in the end. But why did she have to leave me?”

There, it was out. Ricky sobbed and made to hide his face in the neck of his jacket, but before he could do that EJ had grabbed his shoulders and stared at him with such an intense look that Ricky simply couldn’t ignore it.

“Ricky, it’s not your fault. It’s not! I have no idea why your mom decided to leave and it fucking sucks that she did. For her mostly, because she obviously doesn’t know what she’s missing.” He stated confidently.

“A fucking failure, that’s what she’s missing.” He scoffed, sniffing and looking away. 

“Don’t say that! You’re not, Ricky!” EJ’s grip on his shoulders tightened: he seemed angry, but what right did he have? He didn’t know how it felt, he didn’t have an answer, he couldn’t understand that had Ricky been able to actually do something about that situation, maybe he’d still have a family and a mother that didn’t escape to the other side of the world.

“Then why did she leave?” He screamed, grabbing on to EJ’s winter cloak with the same strength the other boy was holding his shoulders with.

“Because parents suck!” EJ shouted back, fingers digging into Ricky’s shoulders “They do, sometimes, you said it yourself. Sometimes I guess they can be selfish, too, and we don’t realize that they can make mistakes because they’re parents, right? They should have everything figured out. But they don’t, and it sucks when you find out, because then it’s up to you to pick up the mess they made of you. But that’s how it is.” EJ offered him a small, sad smile and Ricky stared at him, transfixed and still holding on to him. “It’s not your fault, that your mum left. Maybe it’s nobody’s fault. And if you can’t find it in yourself to be happy right now, it’s not because you’re weak – it’s because you’re hurting. And that’s okay, Ricky. There is nothing wrong with you.” 

Ricky didn’t realize he was sobbing into EJ’s shoulders until he felt his arms engulf him in a tight hug, hands brushing soothingly over his back while his tears soaked his cloak. EJ’s breath was warm against his ear, and for a moment Ricky felt his lips brush against his temple.

“You’re going to be so happy one day, Ricky.” Once he’d started to calm down, EJ’s voice was a gentle whisper that made him smile through his tears, against the thick cloth of the cloak. “And your Patronus will outshine all of ours, I am sure of it.”

Ricky sniffled unashamedly and felt suddenly aware of how well his body fit against EJ’s, how comforting and warm his arms felt around him. He opened his eyes just enough to peer at the skin of his neck, only centimeters away: he wished he could run his nose down the line of his jugular and then place his mouth under his ear, feeling the shape of his jawline under his lips. He screwed his eyes shut and took a deep breath.

“I’m really glad we’re friends now, EJ.” Ricky said, happy to hear his voice was a little rough, but steady. EJ hesitated, but when Ricky finally stepped away from the hug he saw him smiling. 

“Yeah. Me too.”

Ricky was busy drying his face on the sleeves of his jacket and trying not to think about his sudden impulse to kiss EJ’s neck, when a series of hurried footsteps caught his attention and both of them turned to see Nini and Kourtney run towards them.

Nini had a look of guilt and worry on her face that made Ricky’s stomach tighten, but Kourtney spoke to EJ directly. 

“EJ, you have to get back to school,” she said quickly. “There’s been an accident with a student and the teachers need you and the Head Girl to help.”

EJ’s brows furrowed. 

“What happened?” He asked. 

“I’m not sure, I just know you have to go,” she said, and started to walk back, waiting for EJ to follow her. EJ looked at Ricky, unsure, but Ricky instantly nodded. 

“See you.” He said. “And… thanks.”

EJ nodded briefly, a smile tugging at his lips, before turning his back to him and following Kourtney down the path to the castle. Ricky turned to Nini, who gawped at the state he was in and pressed her hands to her lips, guilt painted all over her face. 

“Ricky, I’m so sorry I said that,” she exclaimed. “I had no idea that…”

“It’s fine, really.” he shook his head and offered her a smile that felt surprisingly sincere. “It was building up. I’m sorry I shouted, it had nothing to do with you.”

Nini still seemed eager to apologize and kept studying his face as if he could start crying any second. Merlin, he really was a mess.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” She asked, as they started walking back towards the castle.

Ricky took a deep breath, thinking back on the feeling of EJ’s arms around him. You’re going to be so happy one day, Ricky.

“Yeah,” he smiled at her. “Yeah, I am.”

Ricky watched the sun set over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest, and while he marveled at the unlikely but unexpectedly good relationship that was forming between EJ and him, he couldn’t shake the distrustful feeling that started creeping in his thoughts. Like every time that something good happened to him, Ricky couldn’t help but wonder how long it would take for everything to be inevitably spoiled.

Chapter Text

Monday, January 18th
Gryffindor Common Room

Having spent the better part of the previous term trying to constantly find excuses to get out of his common room, Ricky had almost forgotten how much he liked to spend his evenings there. The loud chatter of students joining together in small groups around the fire, playing loud games of Exploding Snap on the carpets or studying at the tables was a comforting background noise, and he had even started bringing his guitar down again, for some impromptu strumming. 

Although Ricky was in a good mood, the same couldn’t be said for the rest of Gryffindor House. Since Saturday night, a mournful silence had fallen over the common room, giving the idea that everyone was participating in a collective funeral wake. 

“So, I thought about a big basket of flowers descending from the ceiling of the Great Hall at breakfast, maybe carried by a flock of songbirds. But I don’t know if I’m good enough at Transfiguration for that.” 

Everyone but Big Red, who was looking at Ricky as if the success of his plan to declare himself to Ashlyn depended on the opinion of his best friend. Ricky breathed in deeply through his nose, hoping Big Red wouldn’t notice the quiver of his lips.

“Maybe the songbirds are a bit much,” he was proud of the straight face he managed to maintain. “Why not just give her the flowers?” 

Big Red seemed to deflate, as he fell back against the armchair in front of the fireplace.

“I don’t know, man,” he mumbled. “It doesn’t seem enough. I want her to know that I really like her.”

Ricky picked at the chords of his guitar playing the first melody that came to his mind. 

“Just tell her that, then,” he smiled at Big Red, who in return looked at him as if he’d started sporting a second nose. “What?”

“Nothing, it looks like you’re drunk on Euphoria Elixir,” said Big Red, earnestly. Ricky shrugged and kept on playing.

“I’ve had a good weekend,” he said. “Is it a crime to be in a good mood, for once?” 

“Wish you were here is not exactly a happy song though, but okay,” Big Red noted, nodding along with the melody Ricky was playing. “I think we’re the only ones here who don’t look like we’re ready to drown ourselves in the Lake.” 

They glanced around the room: with the exception of a group of first years who were playing Gobstones in a corner, nervously looking around as though their cheerfulness may incite someone’s anger, everyone was talking quietly to themselves, gloomy-faced and sulking.

“They still don’t know what happened to Fletcher?” Big Red asked, and Ricky shook his head. 

“Nope. EJ told me yesterday that they’ve moved him to Saint Mungo.”

Ricky had been waiting in the library for a good fifteen minutes, and was trying his best not to look up from the book he was supposed to be studying at every footstep he heard approaching. He was also miserably failing at that. When EJ finally appeared between two rows of shelves, Ricky noticed immediately that he must be exhausted: the collar of his shirt was uncharacteristically ruffled, and his uniform was fastened one button too high.

“Sorry I’m late,” he groaned, sitting down in front of him and pressing his forehead against the table with his eyes closed. “Flitwick’s been driving me mad.”

“Hey, you didn’t have to come,” Ricky leaned forward, a little worried. He’d never seen EJ like that. “I can do this by myself, you look like you need a rest.”

At those words, EJ sprung up as if Ricky had hit him with a stinging spell. 

“I never rest,” he declared, almost offended by the idea that Ricky could think he had normal human needs. “And I said I’d help you with that essay on Switching Spells, so I’ll help you.”

Ricky was still frowning at the bags under his eyes, but he doubted that insisting would do any good.

“How’s Malcom Fletcher?” He asked, to give EJ a bit of a break before diving into complex Transfiguration models. The news that the Gryffindor Seeker had been involved in a mysterious accident had spread around the school faster than a Kneazle flu epidemic, and someone even said that Roxanne Weasley had been spotted in the girls’ bathroom throwing up all the meals she’d had since Christmas. Ricky had been Roxanne’s Defense Against the Dark Arts partner for five years until he’d given up the subject, and knew that it was very unlikely that she’d react like that; in fact, he was more worried for the person that would be found responsible for Fletcher’s accident, even if it were the Seeker himself.

“He’s still convinced he’s a ten feet tall Basilisk, and tried to maul Madame Pomfrey’s arm.” EJ held his forehead in his hands and gave Ricky an eloquent, sullen look. “They’re thinking it’s a bad mixture of potions and they’re taking him to Saint Mungo’s tomorrow morning.”

“Is he going to be alright?” EJ’s hair was sticking in weird directions, and he looked exactly like that time he’d woken up in the Gryffindor dorms; Ricky’s fingers prickled with the instinct to brush them back into place.

“Yes, but probably not within two weeks,” EJ sighed “Weasley’s going to have to find a substitute for the game.”

EJ twirled one of the muggle pens Ricky had given him for Christmas between his fingers, absent-mindedly. Ricky wondered whether he might be a little glad that Slytherin’s chances of winning the game now seemed rosier than ever: he knew how important it was for EJ and his future aspirations, to secure the Quidditch Cup that year.

“Come on,” EJ gave Ricky one of his best no-nonsense looks and tapped a finger on his open book. “That essay isn’t going to write itself.” 

Ricky made a point to sigh as heavily as he could while he fished parchment and quill from his bag - Mazzara still liked the traditional writing methods better, and Ricky didn’t need to give him any excuse to deduct him unnecessary points - and let EJ give him suggestion on the topics to cover; if their fingers sometimes brushed accidentally while turning pages and writing notes, Ricky tried his best not to dwell on it.

“Ricky. Ricky. Ricky, for fuck’s sake!” Big Red’s elbow smashed painfully on Ricky’s ribs and he yelped, offended.

“Hey, what did you do that for?” He moaned, massaging his chest. Big Red’s eyes were open wide in worry and he nodded briskly to his right; Ricky followed his gaze and instinctively pulled back against the seat of his armchair, the instinct to flee spiking in his bones. 

“What did you do?” Hissed Big Red, and Ricky shook his head. 

“Nothing!” He spat back in a whisper. It was true, for once; and yet there were Kourtney and Roxanne Weasley charging on him, both exhibiting frowns as reassuring as those of two army generals.

“Hi,” Roxanne’s greeting sounded more like a threat, but maybe it was because Ricky had always found her incredibly intimidating. Tall and dark skinned, with long black hair that fell in waves over her shoulders, she looked down on everyone as if constantly evaluating how to better aim a bludger. She stood in front of Ricky with her arms crossed and her eyes reduced to slits, examining every inch of his body; he instantly wished he had a blanket to hide under.

“Hey,” he answered nervously. He looked at Kourtney for help, but she stood beside Roxanne with her lips sealed.

“I have a big problem, Ricky,” said Roxanne curtly. “I have a game to play against Slytherin in little more than three weeks, and I’m missing a Seeker.”

“I have no idea what happened to Fletcher!” Ricky blurted out; the back of his neck was sweaty and the last thing he wanted was to become a suspect for Fletcher’s accident. His housemates had just stopped looking at him as if he carried an infectious disease, and he had every intention of keeping it that way.

“I would certainly hope not,” the tremble in Roxanne’s nostrils made her resemble a dragon about to erupt fire. “But that’s not why I’m here.”

Ricky didn’t dare looking away from her face, but he had a feeling that if he could have exchanged a look with Big Red, he’d have found him just as clueless as he was.

“Okay,” Ricky said slowly. Roxanne pointed a finger at him, almost accusingly. 

“Kourtney says you’ve learnt to fly over the holidays, and that you’re good at it. I want you to fill in for Malcom.” Roxanne said, straight to the point.

Ricky’s jaw dropped so suddenly he feared it might unhinge. 

“What?” He looked at Kourtney in disbelief, feeling inexplicably betrayed. 

“It’s true, even Gina said it.” She defended herself. 

“Yeah, but I can’t play Quidditch!” Ricky’s throat was completely dry as he looked at Roxanne again. “I don’t like Quidditch! I can’t possibly be good enough to play… to play…”

Oh, Godric. They were asking him to play against Gina. They were asking him to play against EJ. 

“No.” He said firmly, gripping the armrests for grounding and to avoid succumbing to the waves of panic rising in his chest. “No, I can’t do it.”

“Look, Ricky,” Roxanne pinched the bridge of her nose and when she looked at him, her eyes were much softer. “I wouldn’t be asking you if I had another alternative. If you don’t play, Gryffindor won’t stand a chance. And I know you’ve never played before but you really won’t need to do anything more than fly well, keep an eye out for the Golden Snitch and catch it before Porter does.”

Easy peasy. And actively try to ruin EJ’s dreams of winning the Quidditch Cup.

Roxanne looked pleading, and he felt nauseous.

“I really don’t think I can be of much help,” he tried. “I can assure you - I don’t deal well with nerves and this is like, stress on another level.”

“Just come to one training, okay? Just to try.” Roxanne’s sigh echoed around the room and Ricky realized, with a pang to his chest, that every Gryffindor student was following the exchange. The rest of the Gryffindor team had approached them, too.

“Yeah, Bowen, give it a try.” shrugged Scott Phoenix, the seventh year who played as Keeper: he was taller than Roxanne, and his hands looked like they could crush a Quaffle without much effort. 

“Yeah,” chirped in Natalie Perkins, a third year Chaser. “You kind of owe it to Gryffindor, given how many points you’ve lost us last term.”

Despite looking like a house elf compared to Phoenix’s size, Perkins didn’t seem to have a problem with staring him down. 

Ricky knew he was trapped when he saw that same look of accusation flashed at him from the eyes of Gryffindors all around the room. Kourtney raised her eyebrow as if to say, “You’ve brought this on yourself,” and Big Red’s apologetic expression told him that unless he wanted to be hated by his housemates for the remaining one and a half year that separated him from his N.E.W.T.s, Ricky had better give in.

“I… I’ll try,” he croaked, and the Gryffindors’ exultance made him feel even sicker: he left the room as quickly as he could, ignoring the cheering blows on his back by the other Chasers, Jordan and Tomlinson.

“Go to sleep! First practice is tomorrow morning at six thirty!” shouted Roxanne while he climbed the staircase to the boys’ dorms.

He ran to the bathroom and splashed water on his face, trying to get his breathing pace back to normal.

He was going to play against EJ.

EJ, who’d been the only person he’d trusted enough to reveal his darkest thoughts about his mother. EJ, who’d let him cry on his shoulders without blurting a word out to anyone. EJ, who had kept the secret of his Boggart even before they became friends, and who’d lied to the headmaster to get Ricky out of trouble. EJ, who wanted nothing more than to win the Quidditch Cup and restore his name in front of his distrustful housemates. And for that very same reason, Ricky was going to try and take that away from him.

There was no way he’d make it to the day of the game without bursting a coronary.

Tuesday, January 19th
The Quidditch Pitch

The chirping of the birds was the only sound that kept EJ company as he made his way towards the Quidditch Pitch, breathing in the chilly morning air that helped him clear his thoughts. Dawn was breaking, and in the distance he could make out the flying silhouettes of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, who had probably been training since the earliest hours of the morning. Weasley wasn’t exactly known for being a lenient captain, but given the most recent events, EJ respected that of her. 

He collected all his determination as he approached the pitch: he knew he wasn’t going to be welcomed there, but he wanted to set things straight with Weasley before the rumors got too out of hand. People had already started wondering whether the Slytherin team had had anything to do with Malcom Fletcher’s accident, and he wasn’t going to put up with it.

Also, maybe you’ll get a chance to peek at the substitute Seeker and give Gina some insights on who she’ll have to face.

He avoided the changing rooms and instead took the main door to the stadium, opening it silently and looking up. 

Weasley and Graves were practicing aiming bludgers at the new Seeker, who seemed to have a hard time steering his broom in time. Nonetheless, he was swift and agile: EJ frowned, shading his eyes against the dawning sun to understand whether he might know him. Then Gloria Graves shot him a bludger, the guy veered right, and he smashed into Leonard Tomlinson who dropped the Quaffle, cursing.

“Bowen, watch out!” Weasley shouted as Ricky, his Ricky, regained his balance. 

“Sorry!” Ricky stuttered. “I just - sorry!”

EJ’s heart shot up in his throat and he fell back against the door, his thoughts working so fast he could barely make sense of them. They had picked Ricky? It was him he would face in two weeks?

Before EJ could have the time to decide whether he was more proud of him for being chosen after he’d only just learned to fly, or upset that Ricky was now his direct enemy, the angry voice of Thomas Jordan called out from over his head. 

“Hey! Snake in the den!” 

EJ took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, trying to remind himself the reason why he’d come here in the first place. He couldn’t show Gryffindors any sign of weakness in this situation, or they’d tear him apart.

“What are you doing here, Caswell?” Mud splashed on EJ’s cloak when Weasley abruptly landed in front of him, dismounting from her broom and placing herself like a shield between him and the rest of the team. They all landed too, and EJ had to physically restrain himself from looking at Ricky.

No. Signs. Of. Weakness.

“I wanted to talk to you” he said, proud of how firm his voice sounded.

“Should we put up Shield Charms?” Scott Phoenix crossed his arms, staring EJ down with acrimony “Wouldn’t want any other of us ending up in Saint Mungo’s, eh?”

EJ’s jaw clenched, but he held his spiteful retort and bit the inside of his cheek. He paid Phoenix no mind, and instead spoke directly to Weasley.

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry for what happened to Fletcher. And yes, I also wanted to make it clear that neither my team nor I had anything to do with it.” He said, without letting her accusing stare intimidate him. 

“It surely seems very convenient for you, that our Seeker got hurt just two weeks before the game” she said, standing her ground.

Trust me, given who you’ve chosen to replace him, this is all but convenient for me.

“I am more than confident in my team’s ability to beat you without needing to resort to a felony.” He snapped, starting to feel the anger boil up inside of him. “Maybe you think that sending someone to the hospital wing is an acceptable form of sabotage, but we certainly don’t.”

“Because sabotage is only acceptable when you do it to yourself, right?” Phoenix sneered, addressing him with a derisive smile. 

EJ was brought back almost one year, in that very spot, when Lancel Ross had called Phoenix a fucking dirty Mudblood during a Slytherin practice. He hadn’t hexed Ross all the way to Hogsmeade before kicking him out just because his teammates had intervened, but he didn’t know what could keep him from the temptation to make Phoenix shoot vermin from his nostrils. 

“SHUT UP!” 

EJ was so surprised at the anger that exploded out of Ricky that he forgot about his resolve not to look at him. Ricky had abandoned his broomstick and had both hands closed in tight fists, and he seemed to be seconds away from jumping at Phoenix’s throat.

“What the fuck, Bowen?” Phoenix looked shocked. 

“You want me to play for you?” Ricky was so furious that his voice trembled when he spoke. “Then stop being a fucking asshole to my friend, who came here to apologize about something he’s not even responsible for!”

EJ still felt something burn inside of him, but it wasn’t anger this time; he gripped his cloak tightly and fought the urge to run over to Ricky and kiss him so fiercely he’d make him forget he’d ever learned how to fly in the first place.

“Enough!” Weasley bellowed, marching over to Ricky and Phoenix before either of them could do anything more than stare murderously at each other. She shot EJ a sideways glance, but sighed. “Thank you, Caswell. I believe you.”

EJ was pretty sure she’d only said that to calm the spirits of her team, but the annoyance paled compared to what he’d felt when Ricky had stood up to defend him, once again.

“Practice’s over,” announced Weasley, not letting Ricky or Phoenix out of her sight “Let’s go, team.”

One by one, all the Gryffindors walked back to the changing rooms; EJ kept his eyes trailed on Ricky’s figure, with Fletcher’s uniform falling a bit too large on his shoulders, and he didn’t miss it when he subtly extracted his wand from his inside pocket and pointed it at the ground. 

For a split second EJ thought he was going to hex Phoenix in the same way he’d done with Jackoby - his heart somersaulted at the thought - but then he saw the mud at his own feet start to tremble and quiver, until three words were formed. 

Wait for me.

Trying to suppress the smile that was threatening to erupt on his face, EJ braced himself against the entrance to the stadium, and waited for Ricky to get changed.

It didn’t take long: perhaps Ricky was in a hurry to get away from his new teammates, because a mere five minutes later he’d snuck back into the Quidditch field and gestured for EJ to follow him under the wooden internal structure of the stands. He guided him as far away as he could from the changing rooms, constantly looking over his shoulders and straining to hear if anyone was following them. When he finally turned to face him, EJ didn’t like the pained expression on his face. 

“Are you okay?” He asked immediately, ready to charge into the changing rooms and confront Phoenix himself. 

“Yeah, I… No -” Ricky drove his hands through his already messy hair and once again EJ had to restrain himself from the instinct to close his hands around his wrists and calm him down. He opened and closed his mouth, seemingly unable to find the words to speak; EJ noticed the red rimming his eyes, and recognized the unfortunately familiar expression Ricky sported before he started crying.

“Hey,” he said lightly, a small smile on his lips “You look good in Quidditch robes, you know?”

Ricky’s bottom lip trembled and EJ did not think about what it would feel like against his own mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he exhaled, looking distraught.

“What for?” EJ felt his heart beat faster in his chest: he hated seeing Ricky like this.

“For playing Quidditch,” Ricky took in a shaky breath. “I didn’t want to, but they sort of forced me, right? They said I was the only chance they had and that I owed it to Gryffindor and… I don’t want them to hate me, but I also don’t want you to hate me.”

“Why would I hate you?” EJ gawped at Ricky. 

“Because I’m playing against you!” Ricky threw his hands in the air “I know how much this game means to you, EJ. And I meant it when I said I would have cheered for you, but now I’m playing against you and I feel like shit.”

EJ gripped the wooden beam that supported the stand: he was afraid his knees would give out if Ricky kept saying things like that. 

“You’re doing it again, Ricky,” he said quietly. “You’re blaming yourself over things you’re not guilty for.” 

Sweet, overthinking Ricky. EJ himself knew all too well what it was like to be hated by your own House; it was just bad luck that both of them were trying to rehabilitate their names by winning the same game and playing for opposite teams. For all that EJ would have rather had Weasley choose anyone else to fill in for Fletcher, he would have never held it against Ricky, because he knew exactly how he must have felt. He pictured him in the Gryffindor common room, cornered by a group of angry housemates, brows creased in a conflicted expression.

Fuck Gryffindors for blackmailing you like that.

“You’re not angry?” Ricky whispered, and it was a little painful to EJ, hearing how relieved he sounded.

“Of course not,” EJ’s smile came all to naturally. “I mean, I’d be lying if I said I hope you win. But I taught you to fly, didn’t I? You being good at Quidditch just proves how exceptional I am.”

Making Ricky laugh was a triumph that beat even the time when the Slytherin team had hoisted EJ on their shoulders and carried him out of the pitch after their first victory of the year, back in October.

“Because Salazar forbid EJ Caswell doesn’t find a way to give himself a compliment,” he teased affectionately. 

Merlin, did EJ want to kiss him.

“So, how is it going?” He asked instead, leaning against the wooden supports. 

“Like shit,” Ricky spat out nervously, mirroring his position. “I’m using Fletcher’s broom and I think it’s sensing that I’m not him. And I know that they’re all like, counting on me, but it’s like they’re expecting me to just be able to keep up with them and I know I’m going to disappoint. It’s way harder than when we were in the Room of Requirement.”

He looked at EJ and he knew both of them were remembering those that now felt like stolen hours, when it was just the two of them and the school was theirs to explore. 

You should have kissed him then, when he sang to you that song about lost souls in fishbowls.

The next words came out on their own accord, escaping EJ’s lips before the thought had even fully formed in his head.

“I can help you, if you want.”

The faint dripping of water drops echoed in the silence that stretched between them, as Ricky watched him incredulously. 

“You would?” He asked, and for a moment EJ was positive he’d seen right through him, and understood exactly what he would have really liked to do with him while they were alone under the Quidditch stands.

“Yeah,” he coughed lightly. “I mean, I can’t let you go face bludgers unprepared, right?”

This was wrong on so many levels that EJ preferred not to let his mind dwell upon it too much. At least not in front of Ricky. 

You’re betraying your team, you are.

“But what about your team?” Hearing Ricky voicing his own thoughts, tone heavy with worry, was almost worse than having formulated them in the first place.

“I’m not going to tell you any of our tactics, if that’s what you’re thinking,” EJ replied a little too quickly. “And I guess it’s better if we don’t tell anyone about this. But I…,” he braced himself and looked at Ricky, losing himself for a second in the warm hazel of his eyes and the softness of his lips parted in surprise. “I know you don’t like Quidditch, and it can be dangerous if you’re not focused. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

That’s it, he figured it out now. 

EJ braced himself for just about anything, but Ricky’s only reaction was to stare intently at his own feet, cheeks as red as the Quidditch uniform peeking out from his schoolbag. In the strain of the moment, EJ couldn’t help but notice that his tie was laced all wrong once again.

“Thank you,” Ricky’s voice sounded vaguely choked up. “I swear I won’t be mad if you tell Gina my weak spots.”

EJ let out the tension in a genuine laugh. Of course he was going to do that: he wanted Ricky to do his best so that his housemates wouldn’t have any excuse to take it out on him, but he also wanted to win.

“We can’t use the Quidditch pitch for training, though,” he reasoned. The idea that his teammates could find out what he was planning to do made him slightly sick, but all it took was a bright, complicit smile from Ricky to erase it all away. 

“It’s lucky we know a place, right?” He said, his eyes glinting with the mischievous light that had mesmerized EJ since that first night in the Potions classroom. 

How could helping Ricky be wrong, when it made him feel so indisputably right?

Friday, January 22nd
The Ravenclaw Common Room

Ashlyn liked the scratching sound of quills against the rolls of parchment that filled the common room at night, when most of her housemates spent their time finishing homework and talking quietly among themselves. It helped concentrate on her own studies; that night, however, no amount of relaxing sounds could have made her focus on the essay about Dementors she was supposed to finish for her Defense class. Ashlyn’s mind kept wandering back to the beautiful bouquet of wildflowers currently sitting on her bedside table in her dorm room, and the cute red-headed Gryffindor that had given it to her. She was still a bit embarrassed at how quickly she’d flung herself at him, but it wasn’t like anyone had seen them kissing in the Charms corridor.

She let out a happy sigh, ignoring the curious look her friend Marion gave her, and tried to get back to another, way less romantic, type of kiss. Her attention span was cut short once again, when she noticed a strip of parchment folded in the shape of a bird making its way towards her across the common room. It landed on her book and unfolded at her touch.

“Ohhh, Ashy’s getting notes now,” Marion giggled. “Does it have anything to do with that small garden you have in our bedroom?”

Ashlyn’s smile froze on her face: she wished it would, but the note wasn’t scribbled in Big Red’s messy handwriting. Instead, EJ’s neat calligraphy had traced out a few, very worrisome words: “Meet me outside of your common room. It’s an emergency.” 

Ashlyn felt her stomach churn, as she glanced at her watch: what could have possibly happened to bring EJ all the way up from the dungeons past curfew? Her thoughts sped towards her parents, his parents, Cordelia, their gran…

“I have to go,” she stood up without another word and stormed out of the common room, running down the stairs: the corridor was empty, no sign of EJ in sight. She looked at the note again, flattening it with shaky fingers, but then a hand grabbed her and she found herself in the dimly lit passageway behind the tapestry of Theseus the Thestral-whisperer. She would have screamed, but she recognized EJ as he paced the small corridor up and down, hair uncharacteristically ruffled and a troubled expression on his face. Ashlyn felt even worse.

“What’s going on?” She asked, gulping down the fear. It was best to rip the band-aid in one go “Did something happen at home?”

EJ stopped his frantic pacing to look at her. 

“What? No,” he said. “Why would you say that?”

“You wrote emergency, EJ!” Ashlyn held the note up close to his face, annoyance building up quickly. 

“Yes,” her cousin’s eyes widened, giving him the vague look of a baby owl caught in a trap. “I made a huge mess.”

Ashlyn rubbed her forehead tiredly, trying to ride down the adrenaline rush that had made her sprint out of her common room.

“I swear to Morgana, if you gave me a fright like this to talk about your boy trouble…” she said through gritted teeth. And to think that she was having such a lovely night, reveling in the memories of the afternoon. 

“What?” EJ’s tone was one octave too high for his indignation to be believable, but he looked genuinely upset and Ashlyn had never been good at saying no to him, anyways. “Ash, can you let me talk first?”

“Sure” she sighed, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms expectantly. She had a hunch about where the conversation would go, and she couldn’t blame her cousin: Gryffindor boys could take up a lot of mind-space.

EJ resumed his pacing, and Ashlyn realized that she’d never actually seen him like this since that time when he was six years old and he’d performed his first accidental magic, blowing an old bottle of Elfic wine to pieces in the middle of a boring family dinner.

“It’s about Ricky,” he finally muttered. “And my entire reputation with the Slytherins.”

“Be a little less specific, will you?” Ashlyn arched her brow. “You’re killing me with all these details.”

Somewhere outside the castle, a flash of lightning preceded the roaring of a thunder, and the light coming through one of the narrow windows in the passage illuminated EJ’s distraught expression. Ashlyn would have been more worried, if she hadn’t learned to recognize when her cousin let himself get a little too caught up with the drama inside his head.

“You’re going to have to swear you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to say,” he ordered more than pleading, but Ashlyn reassured him that yes, she’d be Unbreakable-Vow silent. “You know he’s playing Seeker for Gryffindor, right? Well, I saw him after his first training with the team and it didn’t really go well, so… Ash, I’m helping him with Quidditch.”

Ashlyn had been expecting a confession about a heated kiss in the Quidditch changing rooms, and did a double take. 

“I - what?”

“I know,” EJ ran his hands through his hair and told her everything: how he’d offered his help, how Ricky and him had been sneaking off to the Room of Requirement of all places to train in secret, how he couldn’t sleep at the thought of what his teammates would do if they found out. He looked so genuinely distressed that Ashlyn forgot all about the irritation for his melodramatic note.

“Then… why are you doing all this?” Was all she could reply; it was a rhetorical question and EJ seemed to know it too, by the look he gave her.

“You know why,” he mumbled, but when she remained silent, he sagged his shoulders and finally spoke the truth that Ashlyn had known since the end of November. “I’m doing it because I like him. And I mean, really, really like him.”

Ashlyn finally let the excited smile she’d been holding back for months explode on her face.

“But that’s amazing!” She exclaimed, giving her cousin a light push on the shoulder “Don’t say it like it’s a death sentence.”

EJ gave her a sheepish look in return, and Ashlyn noticed that he’d fished out the muggle pen he’d nicked from Ricky at Christmas from his pocket, and twirled it nervously between his fingers.

“It kind of is,” he sighed, melodramatic as usual. “I’m freaking out here, Ash.” 

“I can see that, but why? Have you told him yet?” She asked, interested.

“Told him?” EJ’s soprano pitch was back, and he looked as if Ashlyn had suggested to burn down the library as he pocketed the pen again. “No, are you mad?”

“Why? It’s pretty obvious that you’ve been having something going on since before Christmas,” she said matter-of-factly. At EJ’s silence, she raised an eyebrow and added: “EJ, don’t take me for an idiot.”

“I have no idea what’s going on, Ash,” he exhaled, honestly. “Sometimes I think maybe he likes me too, other times that I’m just imagining everything, and now I’m spending all these hours alone with him and I think I’m going to go mad if I…” he shook his head and let himself fall to the floor, sitting with his back against the wall and his eyes closed. Ashlyn took place beside him, covering her amused smile with the hand she placed her chin on. Typical of EJ, making a tragedy of anything that wasn’t directly under his control.

“I’m going to give you a groundbreaking suggestion,” she said, and EJ opened one eye to look at her. “Why don’t you tell him how you feel?”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “It’s the worst thing I could do right now.” 

“Why?”

“Because,” EJ hugged his knees and crossed his fingers, probably to keep his hands from fidgeting nervously. “Ricky has too much going on right now. Whether he likes me or not,” he blushed at the thought, a soft expression in his eyes when he said Ricky’s name “He’s already under enough stress about this Quidditch situation without me telling him I may be in love with him.”

“Have you considered,” Ashlyn did her best to keep her face as solemn as he undoubtedly deemed appropriate for the situation, “That maybe he’d be happy to know that you’re possibly in love with him? And that it could ease the stress?” 

“Sure,” EJ’s laugh lacked any cheerfulness. “Except it wouldn’t. Ricky’s like, panic first, reason later. And I don’t even know if he likes me back, I’m not sure I want to risk it all less than two weeks before the game.”

“I still think you should tell him. I have a feeling you’d be surprised at the result.” Ashlyn tried to boost his confidence, but he looked at her suspiciously.

“Why?” He asked. “Did he say something? Did you talk to Big Red about it? Did he - why are you blushing like that?” 

EJ looked at her as if it was the first time he really saw her that night, an inquisitive look on his face and the hint of a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ashlyn avoided his gaze, silently cursing her treacherous burning cheeks, and hoped he’d go back to his usual self-centered self and keep on musing about Ricky.

“What happened, Ash?” He pressed on, smirking “Don’t tell me that while I was here asking for your sympathy about my wallowing, you were busy thinking about a certain red-head?”

“You know, EJ,” she replied, in a dignified tone. “When you tell someone that you like them fair and square, sometimes it may actually happen that they like you back.”

EJ’s smirk turned into a pleasantly surprised expression. 

“So, you told him?” He asked, impressed. 

“He told me,” she clarified, playing with a loose thread in the hem of her uniform. “And I kissed him in return.”

EJ’s eyebrows disappeared under the mess of his hair on his forehead. 

“You kissed him?” He repeated. “Just like that?”

“I didn’t send him a precautionary notice to sign, if that’s what you mean,” Ashlyn snickered. “But yeah, just like that.”

“And how did you know it would be okay?” He whispered, vulnerable in a way Ashlyn was sure he never let himself look. She bit her lip, thinking carefully about her next words: she’d known it would be okay because Big Red had just said that it would, but it wasn’t the message she wanted EJ to get. 

“Because it felt right, in that moment,” she said softly, recalling the warmth that had filled her belly once she’d flung her arms around Big Red’s neck and he’d enthusiastically held her back. “I didn’t really think about it, I just wanted to do it and I did it.”

EJ hung from every word she said as if she could reveal to him the universal secret that lay behind what was, in essence, nothing more than a leap of faith. 

“Gryffindors seem to like spontaneous, grand gestures,” she added smiling, to lighten the tone. EJ nodded absent-mindedly and went back to studying his fingers without adding another word. Then he wrapped an arm around Ashlyn’s shoulders and held her a little too tightly, releasing a nervous, shaky breath; she felt her chest tighten and hugged his torso, patting him gently on the back.

Whatever her cousin decided to, Ashlyn was sure of one thing: being with Ricky, even as a friend, was good for EJ. She’d seen him laugh and relax a lot more during the past few months than she’d had in the last three years, and all she could hope for was that the happiness Ricky had brought into his life would keep on growing: Merlin knew EJ deserved that.

Chapter Text

Monday, February 1st
Room of Requirement

The fifth-floor corridor was silent as EJ nervously peeked from behind the door of the Room of Requirement, trying to establish whether it was safe for him and Ricky to come out. With the exception of the portrait of an ancient wizard scratching his nose, nothing moved; he carefully pushed the door forward a couple more inches, when suddenly the pressure of Ricky’s hands on his waist made him jolt and stumble forward.

“Hey, I just wanted to see over your head!” the Gryffindor laughed, eyes sparkling as EJ hastily recomposed himself. “Ticklish much?” 

Yeah, ticklish. That’s exactly what it is. 

“I’m trying to avoid getting caught!” He whispered back, willing his spiking heart rate to slow down. He felt the skin under his sweater burn where Ricky’s hands had touched him, and that heat quickly spread all over his body, making him curl his toes. Ricky was still smiling cheekily at him, blissfully unaware of the devastating effect he had on EJ.

It had been over a week since he’d come clean to Ashlyn about his feelings for Ricky: the hours he spent with him in the Room of Requirement felt like a dream, and until they stayed there it was easy enough to pretend that it was still Christmas, and they had nothing else to do besides spending time with each other. But then Ricky would smile at him from beneath his mop of messy hair, and EJ started feeling his fingers twitch with the desire to press them against his cheeks, dip his thumbs in the dimples that formed beside his lips and tug him forward, to kiss him until there was no air left in their lungs. EJ was a little thankful that the Quidditch game was only five days away, because he didn’t know how long he could keep up this pretense.

Then you’ll have no excuse not to tell him. Why not get it over with now?

EJ gulped nervously as Ricky pressed himself between him and the semi-open door, to poke his head out in the corridor. He was still flushed from their training and EJ could feel the warmth of his body radiate towards him like an open invitation to get closer. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about Ashlyn’s advice: impromptu, romantic gestures were not really his thing, and he’d have felt much more comfortable with the idea of making sure Ricky reciprocated his feelings before he attempted a suicidal move like a kiss. But then again, what did he know about romance? Maybe he should have just relaxed, like Ricky himself had suggested him once, and simply give in to his instincts.

“All clear.” Ricky straightened himself up again and relaxed his back against the stone: he and EJ were standing in front of each other, framed in the narrow space under the arch that enclosed the door. 

“You should go first then,” EJ heard himself say, unable to look away from Ricky. 

“Yeah,” the Gryffindor huffed a breathy laugh. “I don’t know, I like it here.”

“You do?” All EJ had to do was extend his arm to reach Ricky’s shoulder and inch forward. Hopefully before his own heart demolished his ribcage from within, so fast it was beating. 

“I mean, the game is in five days,” Ricky shook his head, as if he were hoping to shake some difficult thoughts around. “I’d have never thought I’d make it this far without a nervous breakdown. You’ve kind of been my lifeline.”

There it was again: one of those smiles that made EJ feel like he’d just won the Quidditch Cup, gotten all Os in his N.E.W.T.s and been shortlisted for youngest Minister of Magic all at once. 

Imagine how you’d feel if you kiss him now and he kisses back.

“You’re doing all the flying by yourself,” EJ returned the smile. “I’m a little sorry I’ll be too busy scoring to see how well you’ll do during the game.”

He had come up with the perfect scenario for the game in his head: Slytherin scored so much they would be 140 points ahead of Gryffindor, Ricky would surprise Gina and almost catch the Snitch, but in the end his trusted Seeker would beat him, Slytherin won and Ricky still got cheered from the Gryffindors for keeping up so well on such short notice. And in the euphoria of the game, maybe EJ could finally get the nerve to tell Ricky how he felt. 

Or you could just do it now, while he looks at you like the sun shines out of your eyes.

“It’s weird, you know,” was it EJ’s imagination, or was Ricky edging closer? “When you talk about yourself it’s like you and humility are planets that orbit in different solar systems, but then when it comes to me telling you something nice, you always deflect like I’m making you uncomfortable. I’m just trying to say… thank you.”

Ricky’s eyes bore into EJ’s and they were so open and sincere that he just had to look away, his gaze dragged down by the weight of the secret he’d been carrying for weeks.

“There’s really no need,” he muttered. “It’s not exactly a hardship, you know.”

Ricky’s faint chuckle had him snap his eyes up once again: he took in the faint pink that tinged his cheeks, the curve of his slightly parted lips, even the exposed line of his neck as he tilted his head to the side. 

EJ had no idea what ‘the perfect moment’ would look like, but he supposed it must feel something like that. 

Now or never, champion.

EJ took a breath from his nose and stretched his arm towards Ricky’s shoulder, his eyelashes fluttering as he wondered whether he should shut his eyes or not. His heartbeat pounded in his ears and he saw Ricky’s eyes widen in surprise; he was about to close the distance that separated their lips, when a flash of alarm crossed the Gryffindor’s expression and EJ’s impulse died faster than a flame without oxygen.

“Yeah,” he mumbled awkwardly, patting Ricky’s shoulder. “I mean, it’s fun to hang out with you.”

Ricky wasn’t meeting his eyes and for a terrifying moment EJ was sure he’d ruined everything between them, that his attempt at an attempt would cost him the chance he’d never really had with him. Then Ricky smashed their shoulders together, his grin as bright and playful as usual. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he conceded. 

EJ watched him retrieve his borrowed broomstick and schoolbag and head out of the Room of Requirement with a hand wave over his shoulder and released a heavy sigh.

Maybe it wasn’t all lost, yet: all he had to do was find another perfect moment.

Wednesday, February 3^rd
The Quidditch Changing Rooms

EJ rubbed his hair with a quick-dry magical towel, his eyes still closed, and muscles relaxed after the shower. They were only one practice away from Saturday’s game against Gryffindor, and he was extremely pleased with how well his team was handling the tension. He’d put them through the most grueling training schedule ever, and he was confident they would all perform at their best: Frances had blocked almost all of his and Evelyn’s quaffles, Rania had gotten excellent at dodging the curve bludgers that Charles and Nelson shot with unprecedented precision, and Gina had never flown better. He may be a little in love with Ricky, but he knew that he hadn’t become a real threat to her yet. Still, part of him wished that Fletcher gave up his spot permanently, just to see what Ricky could become after months of real training.

EJ pressed the towel on his face, inhaling the smell of the shampoo and hiding the fond smile that the mere memory of what Ricky had done the previous day in the Room of Requirement brought him: he’d managed to dodge all three of the fake bludgers EJ had charmed to chase him and performed a perfect Sloth Grip Roll. EJ took a deep breath, and Ricky’s bright grin danced in front of his eyes.

“You’ve kind of been my lifeline.”

All he had to do was wait for the perfect moment, and then he’d tell Ricky how he felt. He supposed that the light nausea he felt at the idea was directly proportional to the hope he had that things would go his way. He really didn’t want to find out whether he could stand the possibility of Ricky turning him down.

Quidditch. Focus on Quidditch, now.

He quickly changed into his clothes, ready to collect the schemes he’d left in the other room and head back to school for dinner. He was usually the last one to leave, so he halted in his step when he entered the main room and found that the rest of the Slytherin team was still there, talking quietly to each other. The room fell into a tense silence when EJ appeared on the door, and the feeling of having walked into a trap descended upon him as swift as the blade of a guillotine.

He studied the way Oakes and James were positioned, with their arms crossed and looking directly at him; then his gaze traveled to Rogers and Liu, sat on both sides of the door that led outside; June was sucking on a lollipop with a malicious glint in her eyes, and finally Gina, whose expression was as unreadable as always, but betrayed alarm in the way she gripped the edge of the bench she sat on.

Trying not to let the sense of deja-vu get the best of him, EJ squared his shoulders and stood his ground.

“What’s going on?” He asked bluntly. Oakes and James exchanged a look, and EJ kept his eyes on them, trying to decide whether he should make a run for his wand. They were looking at him as if they were aiming at an exposed target, and EJ didn’t like the feeling of having to defend himself against an attack he had absolutely no insight on.

But then again, he was the Captain and he wasn’t going to let them scare him.

“We had a talk,” began Oakes, taking a small step towards him. EJ arched his eyebrows, waiting for him to continue: if they had something to say, they’d better be upfront about it.

“About what you said earlier,” continued James, and gave a look around the room at the rest of the team as if he were challenging them to contradict him. “About putting all our energy into the game against Gryffindor.”

His eyes zeroed in on Gina before coming back to EJ, plainly accusing.

“We were wondering if you’re being a hypocrite with us, Caswell,” Oakes stretched his lips into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and EJ felt his knees suddenly weak as he recognized the familiar feeling of distrust that came from his teammates, the same he’d had to endure the previous year. He’d worked so fucking hard, to prove his worth to them.

It will never be enough. You will never be enough.

“And why is that?” He asked through gritted teeth, clenching his fists. He didn’t need to ask - he already knew what they were talking about.

“A little bird - several little birds, actually - are under the impression that you’re practicing a lot more Quidditch than usual, these days. Not with us, though.”

There was no mistaking the betrayal that flashed on Oakes’s face, and was reflected on James’s, Rogers’s, and Liu’s. June seemed eager to see how EJ would reply, and Gina was gripping the bench so tight her knuckles jutted out.

They have found out about Ricky.

“And what do you think this means, exactly?” EJ tried to keep his voice from trembling as he stalled, racking his brain for a way out of this. He couldn’t let them know the truth: they would never understand, they would never trust that he still had their best interests at heart - and to be frank with himself, he could see their point. They wanted to win - he did too, but he wasn’t willing to sacrifice the name he’d built for himself to do so. He hadn’t done that last year with Lancel Ross and he wouldn’t now.

“We were hoping you could tell us,” James growled, all caution thrown out of the window. “Since you’re the one who’s constantly sneaking around to fly in secret with Ricky Bowen.”

Every sound in the room was drowned out by the thumping of EJ’s heart against his temples. What now?

It’s none of your fucking business, he wanted to scream. He wanted to tell them that they didn’t understand, that they had no right to corner him like that, to judge him; he wanted to remind them that he’d worked himself to the bone to bring them where they were, and yet they couldn’t look past an old defeat, they didn’t understand that even when he’d thrown Ross out, he’d done that for the good of the team.

EJ didn’t want people to look at him and see the double-faced Slytherin asshole that fit so well with his role as Head Boy and Quidditch Captain. But he couldn’t risk losing his team’s trust only three days before the game, and more than anything, he couldn’t risk them messing with Ricky.

If the integrity he’d worked so hard on maintaining was the price for their secret, then EJ was ready to pay it.

“Bowen?” The sneering laughter he forced from his lips felt stranger to his own ears, as if it were someone else commanding his voice to speak “He’s been flying for less than a month – that’s how desperate Gryffindor is. Are you seriously worried about him?”

EJ thought of Ricky’s laughter, the crinkles beside his eyes, and the way he never completely laced his tie up around his neck. He’d never hated himself more.

“We’ve heard you two are friends now.” Oakes smirk was derisive in a way EJ preferred not to investigate, because then the only outcome he could foresee included wands, offensive magic and possibly someone spending the night in the Hospital Wing. “Nothing wrong, per se. But if you’re sabotaging our chances of winning the game to try and win him over…”

Fucking ASSHOLES.

The only thing he was sabotaging was his own ability of looking Ricky in the eyes without wanting to aim a Cruciatus Curse at himself. But then again, he had to make sure they wouldn’t try and interfere with Ricky. Was this really different from lying to Flitwick about Ricky’s attack on Jackoby to get him out of trouble?

Yes. But you have no other option.

“Listen up now, everyone,” EJ took a deep breath and braced himself, his expression hard as the rock that was crushing his lungs. “I have been working toward this game since November, and no one knows better than you how much I want to win this. If you think,” he made eye contact with all the people in the room, keeping his eyes steely and his voice firm. “If you think for one second that I wouldn’t do everything I can to win, then you haven’t been paying attention, and I know you’re all smarter than that. And for what concerns Bowen and my relationship with him,” EJ looked straight into Oakes’s eyes, swallowing the acid taste that filled his mouth and plastering a smirk on his face “I’m handling it.”

EJ could only hope it would be enough for them: he didn’t know if he could say anything else without throwing up. He didn’t blink – he had to be convincing. He kept his eyes fixed in Oakes’s, and finally saw a glimpse of doubt in the stony frown.

“You’re handling it?” He repeated, still skeptical.

“Yes, I am,” his smirk didn’t falter, and the weight on his chest was about to suffocate him. “Let’s just say that if someone needs to worry about sabotage, it’s definitely not this team.”

Finally, Oakes and James appeared satisfied with his answer, and EJ took in the rest of the team’s reactions. Rania Rogers looked impressed at him, while Charles Liu was probably just relieved that no one had drawn out their wands.

“And you’re okay with that, Gina?” Evelyn June asked in a sweet voice, twirling her strawberry lollipop between her fingers. “Isn’t Bowen, like, your best friend?”

Gina’s gaze was inscrutable, as she looked at June before staring directly at EJ.

“I trust my Captain,” was all she said. In the downward tug of her lips, EJ understood that he’d been convincing enough to get the rest of the team off his back, but he hadn’t fooled Gina. Besides, if she’d really believed what he said about Ricky, EJ would have already found himself with his nose transfigured into a slimy slug.

It’s for him that I’m doing this, he thought bitterly, feeling the sides of his eyes prickle uncomfortably. Gina nodded almost imperceptibly, and as the rest of the team surrounded him to slap his back and call him “their Captain” - who is the hypocrite, you assholes? - EJ did his best to ignore the crippling fear that grew in his stomach. It would be fine, as long as Ricky knew nothing about this.

Wednesday, February 3^rd
Greenhouse Five

Ricky brushed the sweat off of his forehead with the sleeve of his uniform, grimacing when he noticed it came back splattered with earth stains. He should have remembered to change into different clothes, but he hadn’t been into the greenhouses since his O.W.L. exam the previous June, and he’d forgotten some of the best practices. Not that he missed Herbology: the heavy, humid atmosphere had never paired well with his constant jitters, and he especially didn’t trust the plants in this greenhouse: in the dim light of dusk, their menacing shapes appeared to be breathing slowly, as if waiting for the best time to strike an attack on him. Ricky was sure there must be a sprout of Devil’s Snare hidden somewhere in the darkness.

“There! I think we’re done here,” Seb exclaimed, giving a friendly pat to a vase full of purple leaves that purred happily under his touch. Contrarily to Ricky, he looked perfectly at ease with his surroundings.

“Cool,” said Ricky, hoping he didn’t sound too relieved at the prospect of finally going back to the castle for dinner. “Are you sure you don’t want to go over the spell again?”

“No, I think I’ve got it.” Seb smiled brightly at him and began sorting through all the vases and magical fertilizers to put them back where they belonged. “Besides, around this time people usually start coming over here to smoke, and the smell upsets the plants.”

Ricky stood back, not wanting to get in the way. He’d been happy to help Seb when he’d come to him asking for his opinion on a spell to tame a Fanged Ficus with cavities, and although he knew next to nothing about magical plants, they’d managed to come to a solution without having the ferocious shrub sever one of their fingers.

“You’re really good with this stuff,” marveled Ricky, watching Seb dance his way around the greenhouse like he was following the steps of a choreography. The other boy shrugged with a smile.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’ve been doing this since I learned to walk, basically,” he said, brushing aside the compliment in typical Hufflepuff fashion. Ricky stuffed his hands in his pockets, interested: he’d hung out with Seb many times, but he realized he’d never really had a one-to-one conversation with him before.

“Really? Is this like, a family thing?” He inquired.

“Yes, I come from a long generation of Apothecaries,” Seb explained as he took his gloves and protective coat off. “Where I live, we grow loads of plants and we also breed newts, salamanders and other common creatures. It’s a cool place! You guys should come visit during the summer, I have lots of space and we could have like, a sleepover in the fields if the weather’s nice.”

Ricky tried to imagine what a magical farm could look like, but he doubted his imagination, however lively, could possibly stretch that far. He thought of a magnified version of the Hogwarts Greenhouses and felt equally spooked and intrigued. Magic was so cool.

“That’d be great!” He enthused. “I can bring my guitar and we’ll have a muggle-style bonfire party.”

“The salamanders would love that,” commented Seb, as they started making their way towards the other side of the greenhouse, where the entrance was. “You know there’s one of them, I called him Prometeus, who really likes it when I sing to them. One time, last summer…”

But Ricky wasn’t listening to him anymore: he’d caught sight of two green-clad figures coming towards the greenhouse, seemingly directed to the bench near the door.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, ducking down and hiding under the table where Professor Longbottom kept his registries. He gestured Seb to join him and the Hufflepuff complied, a puzzled expression on his face.

“Ricky, are you…?”

“Shh!” He whispered urgently, making room for Seb to crouch beside him. “It’s Rania Rogers and Charles Liu, from the Slytherin Quidditch team. I don’t want them to see me.”

Seb nodded understandingly, kindly patting his arm, and Ricky reclined his head against the leg of the table. EJ and Roxanne had warned him against the intimidating tactics that the Slytherins would try on him, to shatter his confidence even before he’d set foot on the Quidditch pitch. He was an easy target, and he knew it: the rest of the Gryffindor team had made it a point to escort him between classes - even Phoenix, albeit begrudgingly - but it was still quite unnerving to hear people shouting at him if he’d already installed a parachute on Fletcher’s broomstick, or what kind of flowers would he like to receive when he would undoubtedly be hospitalized.

He’d tried to take a leaf out of Gina’s book on impassibility, and although it wasn’t easy to ignore the taunting comments, he used his secret practices with EJ as a talisman, mentally retreating in the hours he spent with him in the Room of Requirement to shield himself. 

Sure, the last time had ended on a bit of a weird note: EJ had given him a strange, longing look, and Ricky had sort of panicked for a second. But then the moment had passed, and the last thing he needed to do now was dwell on the burning feeling that had erupted in the pit of his stomach when he’d thought EJ could be trying to kiss him.

He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t want to do that, and even if he did, surely he wouldn’t try it when they were only three days away from the most stressful event of the year, for both of them.

Ricky huffed nervously, as the voices of the Slytherins approaching made it clear that they weren’t just passing by.

“Here. I don’t think anyone will see us,” hushed a female voice that Ricky recognized as Rania Rogers’s, the fifth year who played Chaser. Her and Liu, one of the beaters, shuffled around to sit on the bench right on the other side from where Ricky and Seb were sitting, and he heard the crackling of magical fire before the bitter smell of a muggle cigarette reached them.

“Give it here – I’ve never needed a smoke more,” muttered Liu, before taking a deep drag. A big bush near the door fluttered its black leaves around, and Seb gave it a nervous look. Great: now not only they were trapped overhearing a conversation between Slytherins, but they also had to worry about a possible attack from vicious plants that got high from the smell of tobacco.

“Yeah, you can say that again. I thought Caswell would hex Oakes when he confronted him.” Ricky’s ears perked up instinctively at Rogers’s comments; he felt mildly ridiculous, but his heart had started beating faster when he heard EJ’s name. At least Seb couldn’t see him blushing in the dim light.

“Yeah, I totally thought we would have a repeat of last year’s drama,” Liu sighed, voice heavy with relief.

“And yet Caswell’s learned from that.” Rogers took a long drag and Ricky held his breath in anticipation: he couldn’t help but feel worried for EJ. He knew that his relationship with his team wasn’t always at its best, and that he’d been working hard to regain their trust.

 “I’m a little sorry for Bowen, though. I mean, sure it’s nothing personal but…” Liu’s sentence hung in the silence, and Seb’s neck snapped towards Ricky, eyes as round as crystal balls.

“Hey, I think Caswell’s doing the right thing. We can totally take down Gryffindor in any game, but this was too good an opportunity not to take advantage of it.” Said Rogers curtly. Ricky could hardly make sense of her words over the deafening thump of his heartbeat against his eardrums. What the fuck?

“He should have told us what he was planning, though. It’s not fair to us that we had to straight up ask him what was going on for him to be honest with us.” Liu mumbled, puffing out smoke that reached Ricky’s nose and made him gag.

“Yeah, I don’t know, he’s a bit weird like that. I guess he just wanted to make sure Bowen doesn’t suspect anything.” Rogers replied. All the blood in Ricky’s body turned into ice as he clawed his fingers around Seb’s arm, unable to make sense of what he was hearing. Suspect what?

“Yeah. I mean, if all goes right, Caswell will get away with it without Bowen even realizing he was messing with him all along.”

No. No, no, no. That couldn’t be happening. Ricky gripped the neck of his uniform and pulled it over his mouth, biting on the fabric to keep silent. He felt his whole body shake as he fought against every instinct in his body to scream.

“And we win the cup.” Rogers chuckled, and by the sound of it, crushed what was left of the cigarette under her shoe before muttering a Vanishing spell for the stump.

“Salazar, I can’t fucking wait to see the look on Weasley’s face when we beat them on Saturday.” Liu sounded like he was stretching himself before standing up.

“Why am I not surprised that you’re talking about Weasley?” Rogers joked, imitating him.

“Shut up!”

“She wouldn’t date you even if she wasn’t going out with Phoenix on a normal day, and you think you have a chance by beating her at Quidditch?”

The voices of the two Slytherins faded out as they left the greenhouses and walked back to the castle, and Ricky’s panic did nothing but increase.

“Ricky…” mumbled Seb anxiously “Ricky, what was that about?”

Ricky’s fingers shook violently when he let go of Seb’s arm, and he tried to find the words to explain. He was petrified: could EJ really have staged all of that just to sabotage him? After all, it was his idea to help him in the first place. Ricky hadn’t questioned it for a second because he and EJ were… He trusted EJ. Had that been a mistake?

“But he hasn’t tried to sabotage you!” Seb reasoned with him, once he’d stuttered his way through a recount of the past weeks. “Come on Ricky, he wouldn’t do that! You guys are friends.”

I don’t want you to get hurt: EJ’s words played on a loop in his mind, along with the comforting smiles, the words of encouragement, the feeling of his arms around him when Ricky had cried his heart out on his shoulders on the shore of the lake.

It couldn’t be a lie, all of that: EJ had lied to Headmaster Flitwick to get him out of trouble, he’d helped him get into Ravenclaw tower, he’d bought him the book on spellmaking for Christmas. That must mean he cared about Ricky, right?

But on this game depended EJ’s whole reputation as Quidditch Captain, and possibly also his future career in the Magical Games and Sports Department at the Ministry of Magic. And Ricky knew how much EJ cared about those, too.

“Then what the fuck were those two talking about, eh?” Ricky pressed his hands on his eyes: he was tired of crying, tired of having to watch his back from people he was supposed to rely on. He should have known: if his own mother hadn’t been willing to stick by his side, what had made him think that EJ would?

“He has everything to lose, from helping me at Quidditch.” he reasoned bitterly. “I should have known better.”

“Don’t say that,” Seb frowned, clearly distressed. “Listen, we know EJ! He’s better than that. I think you should talk to him, and…”

“And what?” Ricky couldn’t help the anger as he jumped to his feet, unable to stand still “Listen to how he lies to my face about how much he wants to help me?”

“Okay Ricky, but think,” Seb got back on his feet too. “Has he done anything at all to harm you? From what you told me, it seems like he’s only been helping you this whole time.”

It was true, EJ hadn’t done anything to sabotage him; quite the contrary, in fact. Most of Ricky’s confidence for the game came from the faith EJ seemed to have in him.

But maybe, sneered an evil voice in his head, maybe he wants to strike when you least expect it. Maybe he was just waiting for the perfect moment.

Thursday, February 4th
The Room of Requirement

Ricky anxiously paced the corridor outside of the Room of Requirement, trying to will his nerves down long enough to get through the door. He was late to his usual appointment with EJ - the last one, before Saturday’s game - but he couldn’t bring himself to open the door just yet. He’d hardly slept the night before, replaying the conversation he’d overheard in the greenhouse until he’d collapsed, out of pure exhaustion. He wanted to see the things in the same light Seb did; he wanted nothing more than to give EJ the benefit of doubt, but the words of Rania Rogers and Charles Liu had wormed their way into his ears like a poisonous weed, and there was no eradicating them now.

Ricky stared at the door, remembering the last time he’d been on the other side of it, with EJ. How he’d felt his stomach twist and the strange expression in EJ’s eyes… could that have been it? Maybe EJ had finally resolved to give up his pretense, but then changed his mind? If that was the case, then Ricky would do better simply turning on his heels and hiding in Gryffindor Tower until Saturday morning, when he’d be facing both EJ and Gina on the Quidditch pitch.

“Get a fucking grip,” he muttered to himself, placing his hand on the handle.

Even if he’d wanted to, there was no way he could just avoid EJ now. He had to know. Maybe Seb was right. Maybe there was another rational explanation, and EJ wasn’t actually going to attempt sabotaging him. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

EJ was already in the middle of the room, sitting on top of a big wooden crate that held the training balls they’d been using. He looked nervous, but when he saw Ricky coming in, relief washed over his face. Trying not to ask himself whether EJ had been fearing that his plot would fall apart if Ricky didn’t show up, he closed the door behind himself and took tentative steps towards him, plunging his fists in his pockets for grounding.

“Hey,” EJ’s soft smile was the same as always, and Ricky felt a little bit of warmth coming back to him. “I thought you’d bail on me, for a minute.”

“Sorry,” mumbled Ricky. “I don’t know if I feel like flying today, I’m a bit…” he shrugged, and looked EJ in the eyes for the first time. Strangely enough, the Slytherin dropped his gaze almost immediately, and Ricky’s stomach twisted again.

“That’s fine,” EJ said, with a smile that looked forced “I mean, at this point you couldn’t be more prepared for the game. How are you feeling?”

He slid down from the crate, leaning against it and studying Ricky as he racked his brain for a honest answer.

“Been better,” was all he managed to say. He reciprocated EJ’s gaze and couldn’t help but feel like they were two wild beasts, circling around each other, both waiting for the opportunity to strike.

“Should I tell the prefects tonight to expect the third floor corridor to be turned into a skate park?” EJ asked, raising his eyebrow at him.

Something warm broke in Ricky’s chest, and he didn’t know if it were the nerves, but he let out a chuckle. This felt so natural, and reassuring. Bickering had been their first timid attempt at a friendship, and even with all that had happened between that night and then, Ricky could still look at EJ and see the boy who had made him laugh in the Potions classroom after banishing his Boggart for him.

Maybe he could still trust him.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he joked back, and slid on EJ’s side against the crate. Their shoulders were pressed together, and Ricky thought he’d felt the Slytherin tense for a moment.

“You’re going to be fine, you know,” muttered EJ. “I don’t know what Weasley thinks, but if I were her, I’d seriously consider keeping you instead of Fletcher even when he gets back.”

Ricky tried to strangle the thought that EJ might like having an adversary Seeker so easy to manipulate, but it crept in his mind anyway, malicious and unsettling.

“I don’t think I’d want to,” he replied. “Sorry about that.”

“Not even if you end up winning?” EJ said, his voice weirdly strained. Ricky snapped his head to look at him: was he seriously suggesting he was so good he could have a chance against Gina, or was this a way to mess with him? He knew that, sabotage or not, EJ wouldn’t have wanted Gryffindor to win.

Then why help him in the first place? EJ hardly ever did anything that didn’t benefit him, in some way. Even when he’d kicked the racist Slytherin out of the team, he’d done it because it was the right thing to do, but also because he caredabout appearances, and he was tired of Slytherin’s dark fame. There must have been another reason that EJ hadn’t told Ricky about.

“You really think we could?” He asked, against all common sense. EJ shrugged and looked him in the eyes.

“Who knows? Quidditch is an unpredictable game. And you’ve improved a lot.” He said. Ricky didn’t look away: EJ’s stare was intense in the same way it had been the last time, when they were leaning against the door frame. He sounded honest, but then again, Ricky knew perfectly well how good a liar he could be.

“I told you once already,” the words came in whispers from Ricky’s lips. “I don’t do things half-heartedly.”

EJ’s eyes were a shade of green darker than usual as he kept his gaze trailed on Ricky’s face. Maybe Seb was right. Maybe EJ was really his friend, and he should just ask him directly for an explanation about what he’d heard in the greenhouse. It was better than continuing to wonder, anyways.

Then all the noise seemed to be sucked out of the room as EJ exhaled a shaky breath, placed a warm hand on his cheek and brushed his lips against Ricky’s.

For one stunned and blissful moment, Ricky let himself lean in the touch he’d imagined more times than he was willing to admit to himself; then his brain registered the situation and it was like a deafening alarm had gone off in his head.

Ricky jerked away from EJ, his lungs already grasping for air as the familiar sensation of blinding panic rose in his chest. He opened his mouth to speak, to accuse him, to demand an explanation, but the words never came out.

That was it. That was EJ’s move, then. The sabotage. Ricky stumbled back on his feet, feeling exactly like he had in the Potions classroom in front of the Boggart that looked like his mother.

EJ was frozen in his spot against the crate, his expression numb and hand still weirdly hanging in the air where Ricky’s head had been.

“I fucking knew it,” spat Ricky, as rage like he’d never felt it before poured in his chest, and his eyes stung with tears he had no intention of spilling in front of EJ.

“Ricky?”

EJ’s voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper, but Ricky refused to let him admire how well his manipulation had worked. Feeling like the ground was crumbling under his feet at every step, Ricky turned his back on him and ran out of the Room of Requirement, the ghost of EJ’s betrayal still burning on his lips.

Chapter Text

Friday, February 5th
Charms Classroom

Ricky had always liked playing hide and seek when he was a kid. There was something he found oddly comforting about finding a small space to crawl under, where he could hug his knees to his chest and listen to the sound of his on breathing. He liked to think that those moments were folds in time he could retreat into, where he couldn’t be held accountable if he chose to exist for no one but himself. 

Ricky knew he wasn’t a kid anymore, and that the game of hide and seek he was playing now pitched him against the rest of the school, but he still found that the only real moment of peace he’d gotten since the greenhouse incident was now, as he curled up between two cabinets in Miss Jenn’s class, invisible from the door. 

He kept his eyes closed, pressing his forehead against his knees, and tried to forget for a moment that he was Ricky Bowen, that he’d found out the only person he’d opened himself to in a long time had used his own insecurities against him, that the whole school expected him to play a game of Quidditch against said person, and that he’d been fool enough to start growing feelings for EJ Caswell.

It had taken him plotting a sabotage against Gryffindor to acknowledge it; Ricky wished nothing more than to return to the blissful state of denial he’d happily inhabited for over three months, because realizing that he had feelings for EJ and knowing that he must have known too, and used them to manipulate him into a crisis right before the game, was nothing short of atrocious. 

EJ’s betrayal had stripped Ricky of all the walls he’d put up for himself, because he’d given him a way in, he’d opened himself up, and in the end EJ had used it to demolish him where he was weakest. He should have really known better than to trust him. All he wished he could do now was find the button that would shut off his emotions entirely and let himself sink in the dusty gap between the two cabinets, never to be found again. Maybe Hogwarts, along with the Chamber of Secrets and the Room of Requirement, also had a Vestibule of Woe, or an Alcove of Anguish he could disappear into.

Ricky heard footsteps approaching from the corridor and tightened his grip on the hem of his uniform; Nini had passed by about twenty minutes earlier, sticking her head in the classroom and calling out his name, her voice full of worry. Ricky’s heart already felt like it’d been whipped in one of the Turbo-blenders his mom used to make vegan smoothies at home, but he found out it could still sting a little more when he’d kept his mouth shut and didn’t answer to her call. Nini was his oldest, most trusted friend: he couldn’t bring himself to tell her how much of an idiot he’d been, how he’d let himself be played by someone he thought he could trust. 

“Ricky?” Seb’s voice tentatively called out. “It’s just me. Are you here?” 

Ricky huffed out a shaky breath; he’d made Seb promise not to tell anyone about what had happened in the greenhouses, and true to his Hufflepuff nature, he’d kept his word. He was the only one he could talk to without having to explain just everything from the start.

“Here,” he mumbled, sticking his feet out to make himself visible from where Seb was standing. The boy made his way over and sat on the floor opposite to him, looking at him without the slight discomfort Big Red always showed when he thought Ricky was about to cry, or Nini’s eagerness to let him open up to her. He loved his friends, but right now he just needed some time away from people who could read him better than he himself ever would.

“Why are you hiding here?” Seb asked; his eyes were weirdly perceptive, as if he already knew exactly what had happened.

“Miss Jenn lets me stay here,” he sighed. He felt a pang to his chest at the idea that his preferred hiding place had been tarnished, and he’d done it with his own hands when he’d shown EJ the Room of Requirement. “He did it, Seb,” he added in a whisper, staring intensely at the badger that was embroidered in the boy’s uniform and feeling its small black eyes judge him for his ingenuity. “I thought maybe he wouldn’t, but…” 

The warm touch of EJ’s lips was still fresh in his memory, and Ricky’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“I know. I heard him say something earlier and…” Seb shook his head, full of sorrow. “I’m so sorry, Ricky.”

“What? What did he say?” Ricky gasped, humiliation and betrayal burning hot in his chest. He’d thought EJ was just taking advantage of his vulnerability, but if he actually planned on ridiculing him in front of the school… 

“He was talking to Gina and I overheard something about keeping a secret from you.” Seb explained “What did he do?”

White hot pain blazed up inside of him. If EJ’s dishonesty was vile, Gina’s was just unforgivable. She was one of his best friends.

“He kissed me,” Ricky spat out. “He tried, at least. I pushed him away.”

Seb seemed lost for words, and Ricky busied himself with pulling forcefully at one of the loose filaments in the hem of his uniform, the thread digging into his finger and keeping him focused as he tried not to cry.

“Why would he do that?” Seb spoke softly. 

“Because he…” Ricky tried, but there was no keeping his voice steady now. “He must have realized I…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it, and gulped the word back down his throat, hoping it would get swallowed in the dark pit where his heart once resided. “And he knew he could use it against me, to upset me right before the game.”

“Honestly, I thought there was something going on between you two,” said Seb, and Ricky found that he really didn’t care now, if other people were making assumptions about his and EJ’s relationship. “We all did, actually.” 

“I have no idea what was going on, Seb.” he replied honestly, running his hand over his face. “I just - I felt good with him. I didn’t want to think about it because I’m not the best when it comes to facing new situations, and I just wanted to keep feeling happy.”

EJ had made him happy. He could admit it now, because there was no more risking that acknowledging his feelings might upset whatever universal balance had allowed him to feel lighthearted, and cheerful, and trusting. Everything had been ruined already. He’d thought that at least to some extent EJ felt the same, and maybe he had but when confronted with the choice between his future career and Ricky, it mustn’t have been hard to decide he was deadweight.

Tears had started running down his cheeks without him even realizing, and he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Hey, Ricky,” Seb offered him a small, sad smile. “Do you want a hug?”

For some reason, Ricky let out a choked laughter. 

“Am I such a disaster?” He half-sobbed, half-chuckled; Seb shrugged noncommittally and Ricky shuffled forward and let the Hufflepuff offer him his shoulder, without saying another word.

“Seb,” Ricky sniffled, as Seb’s hands rubbed his back in comforting pats “Would Carlos get mad if I stole you?”

Seb giggled in return, but Ricky never found out what agonizing death he would have suffered at the hands of Carlos if he’d tried to take his boyfriend from him, because a new set of steps hurried towards the classroom and captured their attention.

When Ricky gazed at the door to see who’d just come through, he felt his blood run cold. 

“Seb? Ricky? Everyone’s looking for you, what’s going on?” Gina strode forward, a look of genuine worry on her face.

Ricky quickly disentangled himself from the hug and jumped to his feet: he wasn’t going to face her like this, crouched on the floor like a broken puppet.

“You’re crying! Okay, tell me what’s wrong and who do I have to kill.” Gina’s lips tugged upwards in the smile full of complicity he’d always liked about her, that had made him realize that despite the stone-faced front she’d put up since the day she’d transferred to Hogwarts from Beauxbatons, she would do anything for the people she cared about. She’d made him think he was one of them.

“I have just one thing to tell you,” he spat back, trembling with rage “Go fuck yourself.”

He walked past Gina in long, quick strides, and felt a jolt of cruel satisfaction when his shoulder hit against hers and she jerked back.

He broke into a run when she called out his name, shocked and hurt. There must be something deeply wrong with him, that had made him surround himself with so many manipulative liars; Ricky fled towards Gryffindor Tower, and told himself he had less than twenty-four hours to come up with a way to channel his raving emotions into the determination and focus he’d need to face both EJ and Gina on the Quidditch pitch.

He wanted out.

Saturday, February 6th
The Quidditch Pitch

Ricky gripped the polished handle of Fletcher’s broomstick, shuddering as he gulped down the bile that filled his mouth with a disgusting acid taste. The walk from the castle to the changing rooms had been tremendous: a cold wind bit his cheeks and crept into his bones, carrying the voices of the students from the Great Hall all the way to the school grounds. Slytherins and Gryffindors were shouting words of encouragement for their own teams and intimidatory chants for the opposers; somehow, Ricky was the preferred target of both, and even if he hadn’t been going through what he was going through, he would have found the whole ordeal excessive for his nerves.

He’d begged Roxanne to let him out of the game, the previous night. He’d tried to explain to her that in his current conditions, any first-year with basic flying skills could have been of more help to the team than him, but she’d leveled him down with a stare that he hadn’t been able to argue with.

“Nonsense! You’ll hold your own just fine, Ricky. Just keep out of the way and don’t fall for Porter’s fakes, she going to try those for sure.” 

Ricky didn’t know how to explain to her that he could barely stomach the idea of being in the same room as Gina, let alone having to battle her on a broomstick at a game she was much more experienced than him.

He’d seen EJ only once since he’d run away from the Room of Requirement: the second their eyes had met in the Great Hall for breakfast Ricky had felt again the impulse to flee and hide; Phoenix and Jordan had all but dragged him out towards the Quidditch Pitch, along with the rest of the team.

Now they were standing on a line in front of the door that led to the stadium: the excited shouts of the students sounded muffled to Ricky, as if his head had been filled with thick cotton that drained every noise, every thought, every possibility he had of concentrating on what he was about to do. 

“Let’s go, team,” Roxanne urged them forward, squaring her shoulders and marching into the Quidditch Pitch with her head held high. Ricky stumbled forward: suddenly the roar of the crowd became deafening, and he kept his eyes trailed on Roxanne’s shoulders as he followed her towards the centre of the field, while the Slytherin team approached from the other side. 

Despite himself, he couldn’t help sneaking a glance at EJ: the grey sky made his eyes look steely while he planted himself in front of Roxanne, jaw firmly set as he extended his hand towards hers.

“Ricky,” hissed Gina urgently, from where she was standing in front of him. “Ricky, you…” 

“Players, kick off!” Commanded Mr. Davies, the referee. Ricky mounted the broom in a swift motion and kicked off the ground, the freezing wind biting into his face and pushing his hair in his eyes.

Mr. Davies released the golden snitch and Ricky followed as it immediately disappeared across the pitch; then the bludgers were let free, and finally the quaffle was thrown into the mix of players, and Ricky knew it was time to make himself scarce. He aimed his broom towards the ominous sky, the shapes of the clouds towering threateningly over him: he made sure to fly at least five meters over where the chasers were contending the quaffle and scanned the pitch for the golden snitch. Too bad that every time he caught sight of EJ’s green-clad figure he felt his stomach churn uncomfortably and his only instinct was to point the broom directly towards Gryffindor Tower. He wondered how much would be left of him after Roxanne’s retaliation, if he attempted something like that.

“And it’s Tomlinson with the quaffle for Gryffindor, on to Jordan, Tomlinson again,” chanted the voice of Natalie Bagley, the fifth year from Hufflepuff who didn’t miss a beat while she commented the game “Passes to - and no, it’s intercepted by Slytherin, it’s Rogers to June, and nice dive on that bludger from Weasley! June to Caswell, and - Caswell scores! Ten - zero for Slytherin!”

Ricky zoomed upwards again, unable to bear listening to the deafening screams of the Slytherins as they chanted their Captain’s name. Despite the burning betrayal that had been consuming him for two days straight now, Ricky still felt sorry for EJ, for having to put up with the hypocrisy of a House that was as quick at singing his praises as it was at turning its back on him. 

“Ricky!” He turned around before he could think better of it, Gina steering her broom towards him “Ricky, you have to talk to me!”

She gripped her broomstick with grace as her green robes fluttered around her, but her eyes were round and anxious. Ricky didn’t care for whatever justification she had constructed in her mind to excuse her covering up for EJ - he steered his broom away from her without a word, pushing his hair away from his face as he flew towards the Gryffindor rings, only to halt violently when he looked down as the quaffle was passed again between the Slytherins, and EJ looked up at him.

It was only thanks to Gina’s well-developed reflexes that she didn’t smash into him when he abruptly stopped in mid-air.

“And a commotion was just avoided between the Seekers - Bowen filling in for Fletcher on short notice, surely Gryffindors aren’t afraid of a challenge!”

Fuck you, Natalie. 

“Ricky, I don’t understand what the fuck I did to you!” Gina shrieked, who was now tailing him close.

“Is this how you win?” He shouted back. “You play mind games with your opponent and steal the snitch while they’re distracted?”

He’d never been up for the challenge. He just didn’t care about the points, about the golden snitch, about what Gryffindors would think of him. He wanted to stop hurting so fucking much.

“Phoenix blocks it! It’s back to Gryffindor again, Jordan to Perkins, to Tomlinson and back to Perkins… hey! That’s a foul, June! Penalty for Gryffindor!” 

Ricky didn’t watch to check how Natalie Perkins did on her penalty, but the roaring applause coming from the red-and-golden stands was clear enough. 

“Gryffindor scores!” Shouted Natalie Bagley “It’s now seventy-forty for Slytherin!” 

In the five minutes that followed, Slytherin scored twice, and Ricky felt worse every time he heard EJ’s name being shouted out from Bagley or the Slytherin supporters. What ached the most was remembering that he’d actually pictured himself among them, not really caring about the weird stares he’d have gotten from the rest of his housemates; he’d have cheered for EJ, and when EJ would have inevitably asked him whether he’d suddenly lost his mind, he would have teased him by saying that he’d thought no one would even notice, given how oblivious they’d been when he’d infiltrated the Slytherin common room…

“One hundred - fifty for Slytherin!” Announced Natalie Bagley, and her words were almost drowned by the loudest cheer yet from the right-hand side of the stands.

Ricky nervously glanced behind his shoulder. Gina had given up on her attempt to talk to him, and he knew why: Roxanne had explained to him that Slytherin wouldn’t have tried to end the game until they were at least fifty points ahead. Now, with the chants of the Slytherins growing louder and more excited with every passing minute, Ricky knew that it was his time to step up. Gina was going to hunt for the snitch, and he was the only one who could stop her from securing the victory for Slytherin.

With a dry throat, he circled the pitch in search of both his rival and the golden snitch. He couldn’t let everyone down. Then he caught sight of a golden glint fluttering around the ankle of one of the Slytherin beaters, and without stopping to think, he dove down.

“Caswell heads for the rings again - hold on, the Seekers must have seen something!” 

Swift and precise like a well-aimed arrow, Gina had reached Ricky from the other side of the pitch; even angry at her as he was, he couldn’t help but admire the way she flattened against the broom, accelerating until she almost surpassed him. 

Ricky gripped Fletcher’s Supernova and gritted his teeth as they swooped in on a cluster of players, the spectators drawing their breaths as one. He could clearly see the snitch now, a few feet ahead of them: Gina was too fast, already extending her arm towards it, and Ricky gritted his teeth as panic seized him once again. 

Then the golden snitch changed its trajectory, abruptly flying upwards towards the sky: Ricky steered without thinking, and suddenly he found himself ahead, Gina trailing at his knees. The crowd’s screams were unintelligible and drowned Natalie Bagley’s commentary: all Ricky wanted now was to end this, and he followed the Snitch as it veered right towards one of the Slytherin’s players…

“The snitch - Bowen - bludgers…”

The golden flicker of the snitch’s wings reflected in EJ’s eyes as Ricky flew right towards him: he had extended one hand towards the ball he was supposed to catch and the only arm that was holding him steady gave a sudden jerk when they made eye contact. It all came back to him then: all the hours they’d spent in the Room of Requirement, the thrill of sneaking around unbeknownst to their houses and their friends, the jolts of warm satisfaction he got whenever EJ gave him an admired look after he’d been able to keep up with him, the way he’d leaned into him to press his lips on his. The bitterness of having felt so happy only to find out it had all been a staging to take advantage of him was all he could think about. He didn’t have time to register the horrified look on EJ’s face before a blinding pain exploded in the back of his head: his grip on the broom failed, and Ricky felt gravity pull him down into a pit of impenetrable darkness.

Saturday, February 6th The Hospital Wing

EJ hadn’t changed out of his Quidditch robes yet. The game had ended hours earlier, but he hadn’t even stopped to celebrate the victory with the rest of the team: he’d left his broomstick in the changing rooms and made a beeline for the hospital wing, a distraught-looking Gina on his tail. It had taken her ten good minutes to recover from the shock of seeing Ricky being brutally wiped out by the bludger that Charles Liu had sent his way; the game had paused while the teachers recovered Ricky’s unconscious figure from the ground, where he’d graciously landed thanks to the protective charms that slowed his fall. 

EJ himself had hardly been able to concentrate - it was his fault that Ricky had been hit. The moment they’d looked at each other, Ricky had lost all focus: EJ had seen his eyes gloss over, as if he’d just met a ghost. He had been distracted, and that had caused him to fail noticing the bludger coming his way.

It hadn’t been easy for EJ, either. After Ricky had literally run away when he’d kissed him in the Room of Requirement, EJ had remained frozen to the spot for an incalculable amount of time. He hadn’t dared to move, fearing that once he acknowledged Ricky’s refusal, he might lose the very structure that kept him upright, and crumble to the ground like a puppet whose threads had been cut. 

He felt humiliated and stupid. How could he have misjudged Ricky’s signals so drastically? EJ had thought they were becoming closer, that Ricky was letting him see a side of himself that he usually kept hidden, just like EJ himself was doing. But he realized that he had been mistaken, that Ricky, unlike him, had numerous friends and a generally amicable personality with anyone, and EJ had convinced himself he could be different because of how Ricky was special to him. 

He’d fallen in love with him, and he’d been stupid enough to think that Ricky might reciprocate him.

Something felt off, though. He had been too focused on processing the refusal to realize it immediately, but Ricky’s reaction had been weirdly aggressive. Gina had assured him that the team had agreed to keep their conversation in the changing rooms a secret, but he still felt uncomfortable, as though he was about to be caught in the middle of a storm and no matter where he looked, he couldn’t see it coming.

There was already a small group of people outside of the hospital wing: Kourtney had her arm around Nini, Big Red looked paler than usual hand in hand with Ashlyn, and Carlos and Seb were trying to listen from the door if any sound came from behind it. 

As soon as Gina and EJ approached them, everyone noticed how Seb became suddenly stiff, his lips a thin line and arms crossed over his chest. He looked at his own feet and took a seat right beside the door, without a word.

What the hell?

EJ could practically hear Gina’s temper fizzle in the air around her, ready to go off like a well-aimed curse. Suddenly at the centre of attention, he wondered whether everyone in that group knew what he’d done; he wished the ground could open beneath his feet and make him disappear forever into the depths of the castle, but he forced himself to maintain a neutral façade. He didn’t need to justify himself for being worried about Ricky.

“Did they say anything?” Gina asked, to no one in particular. It was Nini who shook her head.

“No, when we got here the door was already locked.”

“Madame Pomfrey will make it okay in no time,” said Ashlyn confidently. “Quidditch accidents happen all the time.”

She looked at EJ, as if waiting for him to confirm, leveraging on his five-years experience playing for Slytherin: he looked back at her and realized he wouldn’t be able to speak without giving away everything. 

He hadn’t told Ashlyn; maybe, judging from the anxious but mostly unassuming looks that the others gave him, Ricky hadn’t told them either. 

Why did he look so angry when you kissed him?

“Seb, if you have something to say, by all means spit it out,” snapped Gina, all of a sudden. She was trying to keep her tone flat and collected, but her eyes were reduced to slits. 

Seb clenched his jaw, eyes darting everywhere except towards the two of them. The feeling of an incoming disaster loomed closer and closer, and EJ hated not knowing, not being able to control the situation.

“What’s going on?” Carlos asked, when Seb remained stubbornly quiet. 

Ricky must have told him. 

But why? Seb and Ricky weren’t that close, as far as EJ knew. And in any case… what was so horrible about EJ kissing him? Why did Seb think he was deserving of such a reproachful look?

And what the hell does Gina have to do with this?

The only answer coming from Seb was the nervous clicking of his tongue against his palate, and Gina couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’d like to know!” She barked. “I just had to witness my best friend having his head split open by a bludger and you act like it’s our fault, so you’d better get your head out of your stupid badger den and speak!”

“Hey!” Carlos shrieked, glaring daggers at his housemate. “Don’t talk to him like that!”

“If he would be so kind as to answer my fucking question…” Gina insisted. Shocking everyone, Seb jumped to his feet, fists clenched by his sides.

“Ricky doesn’t want you here!” he exploded, and looked right at EJ when he added “Either of you.”

EJ flinched, hurt by the bluntness of those words.

“Guys!” Nini intervened, who, judging by the flabbergasted expression on her face, had been kept completely in the dark. “What are you talking about?”

All eyes were on EJ again, and he racked his brain for something to say that wouldn’t make him look like a complete idiot. But before he could so much as open his mouth, the door of the hospital wing swung open and a fuming Madame Pomfrey came out.

“Brawls and quarrels!” She accused. “Catfights in front of my hospital wing! I can’t tolerate this!”

“Madame, please,” begged Nini, as they all gathered around her. “Is Ricky…”

“Mr. Bowen will be perfectly fine!” She tersely reported. “But he needs rest, and I won’t allow a gang of rowdy kids like you disturbing the quiet of my patients. Off, all of you!”

Despite the protests, Madame Pomfrey was inflexible; EJ didn’t even try to join the rest of them, and walked away first before Gina could start fighting with Seb again. Silence fell on the group as he sped away from the corridor, and he knew everyone was looking at him; he didn’t care about Seb’s musings or Gina’s temper, all EJ wanted to do was make sure with his own eyes that Ricky was going to be okay, and then talk to him. He didn’t know what he would say, but he couldn’t stand the idea of not knowing why he’d reacted the way he had, why he’d seemed scared out of his mind whenever their eyes met on the Quidditch pitch. Embarrassment over one-sided feelings was one thing, but hatred…

Half an hour later, once even Big Red and Nini had given up on trying to get into the hospital wing, EJ came out from behind his hiding spot and made his way towards the door.

“There you are!” Ashlyn ran towards him: she must have been running around, looking for him “I knew you would have tried to get back in.”

EJ took a deep breath: the last thing he wanted to do now was fight with Ashlyn, but he couldn’t help remembering that it had been her who’d suggested him to just ‘go for the perfect moment’.

How well did that work out?

“Not now, Ash” he said through gritted teeth. Ashlyn returned him a concerned stare, and didn’t budge.

“What happened before?” she asked “What could you possibly do to make Seb so mad at you?”

I followed your stupid advice, he wanted to spit back. He tasted venom on his tongue, but swallowed it back. He could still control his temper with Ashlyn; he must do so.

“The fuck if I know” he replied instead “Ask Gina. I’m sure she won’t relent until he spits it out.”

“EJ…” he could hear the anguish in her voice and see it in her perceptive eyes; even without him uttering a word, she had probably been able to put two and two together.

“I have to talk to him” he said, realizing that his voice sounded horribly supplicating. Ashlyn held his gaze for a couple of seconds, but finally she nodded.

“I’m here if you want to talk” she said “You can write a note saying it’s an emergency, I swear I won’t get mad.”

EJ clipped his lips together and nodded curtly, not even trying to plaster a courtesy smile on his lips. He walked through the hospital wing door, and a mere ten minutes later he had talked Madame Pomfrey into letting him stay by Ricky’s bed as he slept, invoking the Headmaster, the teachers, and every single one of his Head Boy privileges until she finally relented, probably more out of exasperation than conviction.

It was almost dinnertime when Ricky finally stirred in his bed; EJ sat up straighter in the chair he’d glued himself to, his mouth suddenly dry. He hadn’t looked away from him since Madame Pomfrey had agreed to let him stay: he’d had all the time to feel his stomach churn at the sight of the bandages wrapped around his head, and the dim light coming from the torches on the wall fell in strange angles on his face, creating shadows that made him look sicker than he probably was.

EJ felt like a block of lead had plummeted in his stomach when Ricky’s eyes finally fluttered open, he turned his head to look at him, and immediately furrowed his brows in an expression of pure aversion. EJ hadn’t cried in a very long time, but he supposed the risk of breaking down was now higher than it had ever been.

What the hell did I do that was so terrible?

“I don’t believe this,” Ricky’s voice was barely more than a choked whisper after having slept for so long, and EJ thought he’d better get him some water; but he didn’t dare to move, nailed down by his icy glare.

“Ricky…” he tried, without really knowing what to say. The hours he’d spent there, waiting for him to wake up, hadn’t brought him any closer to figuring out how to talk to him. 

Why do hate me? I’m sorry I kissed you. 

“What happened? What time is it?” Ricky interrupted him, glancing around his surroundings and wincing when he tried to lift his head. EJ made a sudden movement to help him somehow, but then he thought better of it.

“You took a bludger to the head.” EJ could barely look at him as guilt took over, the memory of the hit still engrained into his mind “But Madame Pomfrey says you’ll be alright in a couple of days.” 

Ricky’s lips trembled as he gulped down.

“So, you came here to gloat? I bet you won, right?” He hissed, obviously trying not to cry.

“What are you talking about?” EJ pleaded, inching forward towards him. He thought he’d been able to read Ricky pretty well - his obvious discomfort when anyone tried to make him talk about personal issues, the way he lit up when someone complimented his ability with charms because he was always surprised when his skills were recognized, the constant insecurity that buzzed under his skin that made him fear people would make him pay every mistake tenfold. But now EJ looked at him, and all he could see was the wall Ricky was trying to build between them.

“Will you do me a favor and fucking stop this pretense? You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He spat back. 

The kiss, of course. Feeling the sides of his eyes prickle uncomfortably, EJ cast his eyes down.

“I just... I didn’t think you’d react like this,” he confessed, humiliation washing over him. 

He really does despise the idea of kissing you, man.

“You didn’t - how did you think I would react then?” Ricky sounded so indignant that EJ looked up at him again, puzzlement replacing shame.

“Look,” he cleared his voice, trying to gather some courage. He didn’t have anything to lose, at this point. “I know I should have thought better about it but... I thought you would have understood,” he said. He’d known he had feelings for Ricky since Christmas, and for all that he’d tried his best to hide them, he knew Ricky was smart, and that he’d slipped up more than once. When he’d offered to help him with Quidditch, he was sure he’d blown whatever cover he might have tried to set up for himself.

“Understood? What was there to understand, that you lied to me all this time?” Ricky had pressed his lips together in a very clear effort to hold back his own tears, scrunching his nose. It made EJ’s heart ache, because the last time he’d seen him like this, he’d been able to hug him and comfort him about his patronus. 

“I didn’t lie,” he tried to defend himself, a pinprick of annoyance jabbing his chest. Ricky couldn’t really hold it against him if he’d needed some time to decide how to handle his own feelings, could he? But the Gryffindor shook his head in disbelief, and EJ knew that there was something else he hadn’t grasped about this.

“I know what you did.” Ricky finally spat out, voice trembling “I know you decided to help me just so you could sabotage me at the last moment. I heard Rogers and Liu talking about it with my own ears at the greenhouses, so don’t even try to deny it, because Seb was there too. And I didn’t want to believe it at first, but then in the Room you... And that’s how I knew. Congratulations, Captain. You lived up to the name, Slytherins must be very proud of you.”

The weight that had been sitting on EJ’s stomach for hours - days, even - suddenly started growing and growing, knocking the air from his lungs as he tried to make sense of Ricky’s words. 

“You heard them talking about it. And then when I kissed you…” he repeated blankly, his voice breaking at the end of the sentence.

It couldn’t be true. Ricky couldn’t have really believed he would be capable of something like that.

But it all makes sense like this, doesn’t it? He thinks Gina was in on it, too. And that’s why Seb was angry.

“Go away now. Please.” Ricky was staring stubbornly at the ceiling, and for the first time EJ didn’t feel any impulse to console him. 

Slytherins must be very proud of you.

He’d put his credibility as a Captain on the line for him. He’d let his team think he was a two-faced hypocrite, when he’d spent six and a half years trying to prove that Slytherins could be better than that. He had taken it for granted, that Ricky knew how deeply he believed in this idea.

He’d been mistaken.

EJ pushed his chair aside, insensible to the noise it made when it crashed to the ground; he strode past Madame Pomfrey as she quickly came out of her office to reprimand him, and he bolted out of the hospital wing, the heavy doors slamming shut on the one person he’d deluded himself into thinking understood him better than anyone else. EJ had no idea that disappointment could hurt so much.

Chapter Text

Monday, February 15th
The edge of the Forbidden Forest

Nini still remembered the first time she’d met Ricky, on a summer day almost seven years before. Her mom Carol was a Muggleborn witch who worked at the Muggle Relationships Department in the Ministry of Magic, and she had the task of meeting muggle families whose children received a Hogwarts letter, to introduce them to the wizarding world. She’d told Nini about this lovely boy who would become her classmate in September, and whether she might have liked to get to know him, so that when he boarded the Hogwarts Express, he could already have a friend like she had Kourtney.

Nini still remembered that, when they had first met, Ricky had looked at her as if an alien creature had just been dropped in his backyard; he’d kept his distance at first, but when Nini suggested they play with his LEGOs, he’d instantly relaxed. The LEGO castle ended up building itself under their instructions, and Nini marveled at how good Ricky already was at convincing the bricks to turn the exact color he wanted - he was smart and funny, and she knew they’d be best friends forever.

Even now that they were seventeen and had been through more than one emotional mishap together, Nini still thought back to those sunny days in the Bowen’s garden whenever Ricky showed up to her with his eyes downcast and a big packet of Haribo gummy bears from the stash his dad regularly sent him. He looked at her as if she were a secure island in the midst of a stormy sea, and Nini felt that gush of protectiveness that had never really left her since she’d found Ricky on Platform 9 and 3/4 on the first of September and he’d lit up, as if he hadn’t really believed that he could count on her to embark on the new Hogwarts adventure together until that moment. Ricky had never had much faith in people and earning his trust had meant more to Nini than she had realized at that time.

She let out a small sigh while turning a page on her Herbology book, keeping an eye on Ricky. He wasn’t even pretending to study: he was sprawled on the blanket they’d put on the ground between the lake and the forest, eyes lost in the clouds above their heads. Right after they’d finished their morning Potions class Ricky had swept Nini away, asking if she wanted to spend the break between classes and lunch with him. The weather was nice enough, and Ricky had charmed the blanket to send off a comforting wave of heat that engulfed them and allowed them to sit outside even in the middle of the Scottish winter.

“What?” Ricky said, without looking at her.

“Mh?” Nini turned another page of her book, scanning it for the paragraph on curative herbs.

“You’re sighing like a windmill,” he replied flatly, glancing her way.

“I was just wondering if you wanted to talk,” she said lightly, as if they were commenting the title of their latest Charms essay.

“I don’t,” Ricky said, instinctively wrapping his arms around his torso. Nini held back a frustrated sigh. How on earth was she supposed to help him if he was so stubbornly hellbent on keeping all his thoughts for himself? She’d never been more grateful that her childish dreams of marrying him when they became adults had been brutally shattered the moment he’d told her that their dating thing was weird and he thought they should just go back to being friends. Sure, it had taken her the whole last term of fifth year and a good chunk of the summer to accept the fact that the boy she’d been sure was her soulmate since she was twelve didn’t reciprocate her feelings, and Ricky didn’t even know it. She’d decided not to tell him, because knowing how much he’d (unwillingly) hurt her would have only driven him away, and Nini could live without Ricky as her boyfriend, but she could never do without him as her best friend.

Luckily, with the wisdom that her coming of age had brought her, Nini could now see that she wouldn’t be able to stand a boyfriend who retreated into a dark place in his mind every time his feelings became difficult to process, and didn’t let anyone in.

“Okay,” she conceded. “But it’s been a week of you avoiding the Great Hall whenever you can, and I don’t know how long you can survive on Haribos alone before you turn into a giant gummy bear yourself.”

“You’d be surprised,” he replied, the barest hint of cheekiness tinging his voice like an echo from afar. “And Red’s bringing me sandwiches, anyways.”

Nini didn’t need to comment on how ridiculous she thought he was being.

“I’m just worried for you,” she said, finally closing her book. “You’ve been acting so weird since before the game, you took a bludger and now…” she shook her head, unable to make sense of everything that had happened in the last ten days. “What is it that Gina and EJ did, Ricky?”

It was probably the wrong thing to say, because the only result she obtained was Ricky blinking furiously without meeting her eyes, barricading himself behind his usual stubborn silence.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about them, okay? Please.” He replied, effectively cutting her short.

Nini wasn’t good at imposing herself, and even though she knew it wasn’t healthy for Ricky to keep up this act, she couldn’t bring herself to insist. She patted his hair affectionately, smiling when she saw him leaning into her touch, when a movement at the corner of her eyes caught her attention.

“Well,” she commented in a low voice. “I’m afraid development is on the horizon, Ricky.”

Gina was marching towards them with fire in her eyes and her school uniform fluttering behind her: Ricky immediately sat up, glancing around in search for an escape route. Nini suspected that he was silently cursing his own inefficiency at Transfiguration, that didn’t allow him to turn into a fish and swim away under the lake.

“You insufferable prat!” Gina shouted, once she was close enough. “You will listen to me Ricky, and I will hex you if I have to!”

“I’d like to see you try!” Ricky spat back, jumping on his feet.

“Careful” Gina growled. “You might be good at Charms, but dueling is my thing.”

“Hey!” Nini bolted to her feet and threw herself between Gina and Ricky: both of them had drawn their wands, and Merlin, she would smash both their heads together if one of them so much as dared to throw a spell at the other.

“Nini, move over,” Gina warned, aiming her wand at Ricky over her shoulder. “I have just found out why this idiot hasn’t been speaking to me for over a week and all I ask is for an excuse to use his own Tonguetwister Jinx against him.”

“Sure you don’t want me to turn around?” Ricky sneered. “Backstabbing is much more your style, isn’t it?”

Nini saw the point of Gina’s wand light up and she hit her arm without thinking: the jet of red light fizzled as it missed Ricky by a mere ten centimeters, and when Nini looked at the Slytherin, she was sure her eyes were wet.

“Stop it!” She shrieked; Ricky and Gina kept aiming for each other, and Nini stomped a foot to the ground in frustration. Why did no one ever listen to her? “Both of you, stop it now! Ricky, you’re being ridiculous! Whatever it is that happened, you can’t keep hiding from everyone and refuse to talk to Gina when she’s been trying for days to make things right. And Gina, I hate to break it to you, but if someone doesn’t want to speak to you, trying to curse them might actually be a deterrent to your argument!”

She stood between two of her best friends, slightly breathless; Morgana, how she hated confrontations. Ricky and Gina appeared lost for words after her outburst, and Nini was sure that when their eyes had met over her head, there had been a spark of amused complicity between them.

“Fine,” Gina made to put her wand back in her pocket, but Nini shook her head and extended her hand.

“I don’t trust you,” she said as Gina bulged her eyes out, and stood her ground until she reluctantly agreed to hand over her wand. “You too, Ricky.”

Nini felt strangely satisfied when Ricky, too, let her pocket his wand: a little more confident, she squared her shoulders.

“Good. Now sit down, and talk like normal people.” She commanded. She really didn’t understand why Gryffindors and Slytherins insisted on antagonizing each other: it was clear to her that they were two sides of the same stubborn, childish, and unnerving coin.

“I talked to Seb, and he explained what happened,” Gina said, doing her best to keep her tone civil. She snuck a glance at Nini and she nodded encouragingly.

“I had asked him not to,” Ricky replied, forcibly affable.

“I insisted,” Gina’s lips twitched and Nini held back a grimace at the thought of Gina cornering Seb and threatening him with her wand. She didn’t entirely blame her, though: if Ricky suddenly started to hate her and she didn’t know why, she might have gone slightly mad too.

“Ricky, you misunderstood everything,” Gina spoke quietly and Nini listened with bated breath while Ricky kept his eyes glued to the threads of grass he was playing with. “What Liu and Rogers talked about… they had no idea, really.”

“Oh,” Ricky’s head snapped up, and he looked at Gina with red rimming his eyes. “So EJ hadn’t just told the whole team about his plan to sabotage me?”

EJ had done what?

She’d promised herself she would try to blend with the surroundings and let Gina and Ricky work it out by themselves, but she couldn’t help her face from scrunching into a skeptical frown. Ricky glanced at her and his cheeks turned bright red.

“He sort of did,” Gina conceded. “But don’t you see it, Ricky? He never meant it for real. The team had found out that the two of you were constantly meeting in secret, and they basically ambushed him and asked him about you. He lied. He said something vague about a plan to sabotage Gryffindor for the game, refused to go into details and made everyone promise not to talk about it. He only said it to cover for you.”

Ricky opened and closed his mouth without emitting a sound, as if Gina had just hit him with a Silencing Spell.

“I can’t speak for EJ,” all the anger Gina had accumulated seemed to melt in front of Ricky’s disorientation. “But I really don’t think that he was trying to undermine you, when he kissed you.”

Watching the realization dawn upon Ricky was like witnessing a landslide in slow-motion: his eyes grew as round as golden galleons, then his whole expression crumbled, and he hid his face in his hands.

“What?” Despite her resolution to camouflage with the willow behind her, Nini couldn’t hold herself back “EJ kissed you? And you thought that was sabotage?”

Ricky’s shoulders trembled, and she wasn’t sure if he was crying or laughing hysterically; she exchanged a look with Gina, who simply nodded, unamused.

“It sounds very stupid when you say it like that,” he replied in a nasal voice.

“Besides,” Gina added flatly. “How could you ever think that I would be okay with that?”

Ricky looked up at Gina, and Nini knew it was a rhetorical question. She’d been a little jealous of Gina when she arrived the previous year, because of how well she could read Ricky even without Nini’s years of friendship under her belt. But now it didn’t matter, because they both knew that Ricky must have been spiraling, unable to cope with the stress of the game and his feelings for EJ that he was the only one who insisted on ignoring, and that must have sent him right over the edge of the sanity cliff.

“I’m sorry,” he said, brokenly. “Gina, I…”

“I know,” she cut him short. Ricky wiped his tears on the sleeve of his uniform.

“But why did he have to say those things?” He sniffed, looking between Gina and Nini, hoping that one of them would provide some kind of justification for his own impulsive stupidity.

“Ricky, you have quite the sharp brain: try to use it and think about someone else’s feelings for once!” Gina snapped, but this time Nini didn’t question her tone.

“I don’t -” he protested, his pride wounded.

“Yes,” interrupted Nini. “You do.”

Maybe she hadn’t entirely forgiven him for not noticing the pain their breakup had put her through, despite her resolution to hide it from him.

“I told you what happened last year before the Quidditch final.” Gina pressed on, capitalizing Ricky’s attention again. “How popular do you reckon EJ was with the Slytherins, after that?”

“But he did the right thing…” said Ricky, in a small voice.

“Yes, and no one judges him for kicking out Scott. But doing it right before the game? He couldn’t set foot in the common room until the end of the year, after that. This year, no one really trusted him until we won the first game against Hufflepuff. And how do you think he felt when the rest of the team straight up accused him of sabotaging us, because he was trying to help you?”

There was no heat in Gina’s look, but no intention of playing the situation down either. Nini admired that of her: she could never bring herself to be this harsh with the people she loved, even when they clearly needed it.

“He could have told me,” Ricky attempted, throwing his gaze down.

“Yes, because you’re so good at rationalizing conflict.” She scoffed. “He didn’t want to throw you off. I think… I think he really cares about you.”

Ricky looked nauseous; his fingers trembled when he extended his hand towards Nini.

“Can I have my wand back, please?”

She complied, unsure, and he jumped to his feet.

“Ricky…” tried Nini, but he violently shook his head and she feared he might really be sick, just like the first time he’d flown a broom in first year.

“I need to be alone now,” he pleaded. “I need to think.”

And without another word he sped off towards the shore, following the twisting path that led around the perimeter of the lake. Nini and Gina followed his figure silently until he disappeared behind an ancient oak tree, and the Slytherin sighed deeply.

“Do you think we should follow him and make sure he doesn’t drown himself?” Gina asked, glancing at Nini from the side of her eyes.

“I’m more worried about the centaurs, to be honest,” she replied. “He’d be able to start a fight with them just to have an excuse not to show up at the castle ever again.”

Gina sighed with her eyes downcast, and Nini found herself compelled to throw an arm around her.

“You’re a good friend, you know?” She smiled. “Merlin, we both are.”

“He doesn’t deserve us,” Gina laughed, letting Nini hug her.

“Definitely not,” she agreed, and hesitated before asking: “Do you think they’ll work it out?”

“I don’t know,” Gina took her wand as Nini offered it back to her and twirled it between her fingers. “Not unless Ricky makes the first move. They have a lot to talk about.”

Nini nodded, deep in thought. She knew Ricky, and she loved him dearly: she could only hope he’d decide to stop hiding behind his fears and give himself a chance to be happy.

Thursday, February 18^th
The Slytherin Common Room

EJ had always liked the Slytherin common room, despite everyone’s general opinion that it was too dark and gloomy. Ever since he first got there on the night of the first of September seven years before, the majestic arcs that seemed to be carved directly out of the stone walls, the dim natural light and the gentle washing sound of the water against the glass windows had made him feel safe and protected. He sat with a book in the alcove under one of the tall windows, keeping a lookout for the Giant Squid that sometimes liked to tap its tentacles against the glass, and tried to come to terms with the fact that this was his life at Hogwarts. Classes, Quidditch, studying in the Library, and spending time in his beloved common room, surrounded by housemates he could always count on being a little dishonest, from time to time.

No nighttime escapades around the castle, secret meetings in ancient magical rooms, and spell-making that sometimes caused more harm than good. No cheeky, smart Gryffindors that made him fall in love only to end up breaking his heart.

You’re still using that Search spell on your books though. And his muggle pen.

Sometimes, when he was out patrolling the corridors on Head Boy duty, EJ caught himself straining to listen to the silence, anticipating the familiar roll of plastic wheels on the stone floors. He snapped his book shut and looked pointedly out of the window, into the inscrutable darkness of the lake. He considered himself to be a rather smart person, and after having analyzed the events relative to the Quidditch game approximately thirty-seven times in his head, while lying awake in his comfortable bed, he’d come to a conclusion.

He should have followed his initial hunch instead of Ashlyn’s advice about telling Ricky the truth about his feelings: he should have waited. Even without Ricky overhearing his teammates talking about the lie he’d crafted to keep their noses out of their business, kissing him two days before the game would have backfired against him.

Probably.

Most certainly.

He still didn’t know if he’d ever stood a chance with Ricky, but it didn’t matter anymore because EJ had no intention of going through that kind of uncertainty and humiliation ever again. He’d led a perfectly good Ricky-less life for almost eighteen years: how hard could it possibly be to get through the last four months of school without him?

Excruciatingly so, if these two weeks are any indication.

He’d suspected Ricky had tried to talk to him, the day before: EJ had been studying in the library, and he’d felt strangely observed; he’d turned around and seen him at one of the tables, head bent over a book. He’d spent enough time with him to know that he hated studying alone and given that none of his friends showed up in the following half-hour, EJ had presumed that there might be another reason for his presence there. He didn’t care. Ricky had known how much EJ would have been hurt by that comment on Slytherin, and he’d said it anyway, and on purpose. He couldn’t excuse him. He would have never lost control like that.

But Ricky’s not like you, is he? Panic first, reason later.

EJ closed his eyes, and just as he was debating whether he should go to sleep early and down a whole vial of Sleeping Draught, he was stopped in his tracks by a voice calling out his name.

“Hey, EJ,” said Frances Oakes, approaching. He had Nelson James in tow, both a little hesitant and with their hands in their pockets. On instinct, EJ tightened his grip on his book.

“Mind if we sit?” Nelson asked, gesturing to the black leather sofa that some third-years had dragged in front of the window for squid-watching.

EJ shrugged noncommittally, as a dozen thoughts sped through his mind at once. He didn’t remember the last time he’d had a conversation with them outside of Quidditch practice. What was it that they may want from him now?

“So, we were thinking,” Frances started. “We’ve barely hung out, this year.”

“Yeah,” chirped in Nelson. “Like, now that you’re Head Boy and we don’t have anyone to remind us to send our uniforms to the house elves for cleaning – our room’s a mess. You’d have a heart attack if you saw it.”

EJ felt a weird lump swell in his throat.

“Of course it is,” he scoffed. “Between you, Lewis and Gregor, you’d probably manage to incite the first ever strike in the house elves community.”

Frances and Nelson laughed, and EJ’s heart started beating faster: he hadn’t realized how much he’d actually missed his housemates. Sure, they were messy, and noisy, and sometimes able to embody the very worst characteristics that the noble house of Salazar was sadly known for - but they’d been the first people he’d met after the Sorting, and he’d shared a room with them for six years. They’d been his friends.

“Did you hear that Malcom Fletcher’s back from Saint Mungo?” Nelson asked, and EJ hated the pang in his chest that followed those words.

“Yeah, apparently the idiot was experimenting with some potions and then got into a duel with Sterlings, a Slytherin in his year, and the mix of potion and charms reacted badly.” Frances laughed.

“Right” EJ nodded, lifting the corner of his mouth in an attempt of a smile. Judging from the look the other two exchanged, he hadn’t been very convincing.

“Look,” Frances looked him in the eyes. “About this… We don’t know what happened with Bowen and the game. But we know it’s not normal that we’ve basically secured the Quidditch Cup and you hardly seem to care. If it’s because of us, and what we said in the changing rooms… we’re sorry, man. We only wanted to win, and maybe we’ve been a bit too focused on that.”

Well, this is unexpected.

“I wanted to win, too,” he retorted. “And I don’t understand why you couldn’t just trust me on that.”

Hadn’t they put him in that uncomfortable position, he wouldn’t have had to lie about Ricky, and everything would be fine.

Maybe Ricky would have refused you anyway.

“We’re Slytherins, man,” Nelson shrugged. “We don’t just trust anyone, do we?”

EJ realized he’d never even told them his real name, in six years.

“Besides, it feels like we don’t really know you anymore,” added Frances. “I know we’ve been assholes a bit, but it’s not like you’ve been approachable, lately.”

That’s not a justification.

But EJ considered their words very carefully. Maybe it was true, that he’d cut himself out of his old world, when they’d turned against him. Maybe he should have tried to explain himself better, instead of assuming that no one would understand him anyway.

“I guess that’s true,” he conceded. That was one of the things he loved about Slytherins: the words unsaid usually weighed more than the ones they spoke out loud. A small smile was exchanged among the three of them, and EJ felt suddenly steadier.

“So,” Frances leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What happened with Bowen?”

There were lightness and complicity in his tone, but EJ couldn’t forget that easily how they’d rejoiced at the thought of him using Ricky to sabotage the Gryffindor team. Luckily, he didn’t need to answer: a small commotion near the door of the common room capitalized their attention, as the whole Slytherin house tried to push out toward the corridor at the same time.

“What…” he mumbled, instinctively fixing his Head Boy badge on his chest and running ahead. “Everyone, calm down!”

His badge easily parted the crowd, and he was glad to ascertain that respect for authority was still a thing among younger students; he followed the excited chatter all the way to the Potions corridor where he found Carlos at the front of the group, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the spectacle before him with an unimpressed look.

“I don’t know who taught them this choreography, but they’re completely offbeat,” he commented.

It appeared that a group of mops, brooms and buckets had fled from Filch’s cupboards and found its way to the dungeons: the cleaning tools were circling around each other, as if following the steps of a weird dance. They clanged and swept in unison, enticing laughter and cheers from the Slytherins around.

“Just like Fantasia!” a first year with ginger braids exclaimed.

“What?”

“It’s a muggle film my cousin Albert showed me last summer… there’s a scene just like this!”

“I bet this was a Gryffindor,” said Rania Rogers, shaking her head. “It’s their idea of a prank”

Feeling like a nail was digging a hole in his stomach, EJ couldn’t help agreeing with her. He thought of a night in November that felt like years before, when Ricky had tripped over a bucket in front of the Boggart that looked like his mother, and a powerful wave of nostalgia hit him with the force of a tsunami tide.

“Everyone, back inside!” He commanded, and if his voice trembled slightly, he hoped no one would notice. “It’s over curfew already!”

It doesn’t matter who did this. It’s stupid and it’s not meant for you.

He didn’t think about the incident again until two days later, when Ashlyn sat beside him at breakfast, an amused smile on her face.

“Like these?” She smiled, pointing at her shoes. The usually plain regulatory black shoes had turned midnight blue, with bronze laces: they matched the Ravenclaw house colors perfectly. “Someone charmed the second-floor corridor and now whoever passes by has their shoes turned into the colors of their house.” Ashlyn explained, serving herself some coffee.

‘I do love Gryffindor’s scarlet, you know?’

On instinct, he snapped his head up and looked around the room, in search of a familiar mop of curly hair. When he finally found Ricky, he was already staring.

Heart thumping loud in his chest, EJ dropped his gaze and scrutinized the depths of his coffee.

He’s trying to catch your attention.

EJ didn’t care. He didn’t. Ricky could turn the whole seventh floor into his personal amusement park with fountains of chocolate and skateboard ramps, and he wouldn’t have batted an eye. He could get himself expelled for all he cared: he’d made a decision, and he wouldn’t back down. Not even under Ashlyn’s perceptive look; not even with the familiar spark that he’d learned to associate with Ricky’s teasing lighting up in his chest once again. Sparks led to fires, and he’d been burnt already.

His resolve to ignore Ricky’s existence entirely was put to the test once again on Monday night, when a flock of Cornish Pixies invaded the Slytherin common room and no one seemed able to understand how in Merlin’s name they’d been able to get in.

On Wednesday, the whole Ravenclaw House was late to class because they were all stopped by a collective fit of laughter when the bronze eagle that stood guard at their common room door had mysteriously caught a cold and was now stuck with a ridiculous nasal voice. EJ had a very hard time trying to repress his own smile and was reprimanded by a bewildered Professor Mazzara for spending a good ten minutes of his class staring into the void.

On Thursday, his Arithmancy class was delayed due to a seemingly untamable storm of stationery items: sticky notes, brightly colored highlighters, Whiteout and pens poured in every direction right in front of the classroom, and EJ had had to hide in the bathroom to recollect himself. Suddenly he was brought back by three months, when his days revolved around the moments he could steal during his Head Boy patrols, waiting to see what new way Ricky had found to not-quite get himself in trouble. And yet, it was different: EJ knew Ricky was causing all that trouble just to talk to him: it made him feel like he was being chased after, and it was a completely new emotion he had no idea how to process. Especially given that he hadn’t backed down from his decision to forget Ricky.

He’s not making it easy for you, is he?

On Friday, the whole school had started to anticipate the next prank excitedly, and no one seemed to have an idea of who could be behind it. The teachers had called a lazy meeting about the issue, and when Miss Jenn had been interrogated about the charms and whether she recognized any student’s talent, she’d shown the worst poker face EJ had ever seen. Then the suits of armor on the fifth-floor corridors started singing whenever someone passed them by, and the excited amusement that had sparked in EJ’s chest gave way to melancholia.

“So you think you can tell, heaven from hell?” Creaked the metallic voice of one of the armors. EJ was thrown back to the night of New Year’s Eve, when he’d listened to Ricky singing for him in the Room of Requirement and he’d known, with disconcerting certainty, that he wouldn’t be able to look at him again without wishing to kiss him.

A little mournful, he hit every armor with a silencing spell and ran towards his room: Ricky must be getting impatient, because this was a prank on an entirely different level. Despite everything, EJ suspected that he’d had as much fun in coming up with different ideas to cause trouble that spoke directly to him, as he himself had had fun in discovering them.

On Saturday he warily stood his guard, half expecting to see Peeves jumping out from a secret passage riding a skateboard, but nothing happened all day long. He couldn’t help the bittersweet thought that Ricky must have simply grown tired of this silly game and decided that EJ probably wasn’t worth it anyways.

On Sunday night, as he was studying alone in the library, one of the muggle pens he was holding started vibrating suddenly in his hand, like a bee caught under a glass. Instinctively, EJ let it go: the pen didn’t fall on the table, but instead zoomed away towards the bookshelves.

You have other pens, EJ, he told himself, just focus on your homework.

And yet, one by one, all his pens, pencils and quills started to levitate above the table, flying in formation like a weirdly coordinated Quidditch team.

Heart thumping against his ribcage, EJ didn’t think much before abandoning his books and bags on the table, and started to chase the contents of his pencil case out of the library and into the corridor.

He reached the flight of stairs and remembered when Ricky had offered to teach him how to skate instead of studying, and how he’d let himself go, but only because he had Ricky’s arms to hold on to.

He chased the pens down the corridor and felt the warmth of Ricky’s embrace when he’d sobbed into his chest by the shore of the lake, and EJ had wanted nothing more than to shield him from any painful struggle that would come his way.

He turned a corner and recalled Ricky’s upset frown when he’d told him his housemates had blackmailed him into playing Seeker, and that he wanted to cheer for EJ…

He stopped in front of the door to the Room of Requirement, all his pens lying neatly at the entrance. He collected them with shaking fingers, trying to calm his breathing: the door was slightly ajar, and a sliver of light came from the other side.

Ricky was giving him control — he could walk back to the library now, and somehow EJ knew that this would be his last attempt. He could end it, one way or another: now that the choice rested entirely on his shoulders, EJ found out that he already knew what he wanted to do. He had known since the moment the pen he’d nicked from Ricky before Christmas had escaped his grasp, and his first instinct had been to chase after it as if his own life depended on it. He squared his shoulders and made a choice.

Sunday, February 28
The Room of Requirement

Ricky was familiar with nervousness and apprehension: they’d been his trustful companions since he’d woken up one day when he was eight years old and he’d realized he was a person, existing in a world that was so much bigger than him, and impossible to comprehend. His constant jitters had led him to more than one impulsive decision in his life, and he’d learned to trust his own instincts over anything else. He avoided the quiet: in the stillness, nothing remained for him to do other than listen to the constant buzzing of his anxious thoughts, and there was nothing that he hated more than having no way to drown it out.

The Room of Requirement was eerily quiet as Ricky waited for EJ to cross the threshold, and yet he had no intention of moving from his spot. Since he’d talked to Gina almost two weeks before, Ricky had experienced a level of anxiety that was almost overbearing: some of his greatest fears had come to pass, because he’d driven EJ away from him and it was all his fault. He’d been too caught up in his own panic and refused to see the truth of it: that EJ would never want to hurt him, because he cared about him. EJ had kissed him, and Ricky pushed him away. He didn’t know if he would be granted another chance now - EJ was proud, and Ricky suspected that the humiliation of being refused and the angry words he’d rashly spat out in the Hospital Wing might have driven him away for good.

But Godric damn him if Ricky didn’t fight with his every move to get EJ to talk to him, at least. He might have been powerless when it came to his mother leaving for Chicago, but he would never forgive himself if he let EJ go without even trying to get him back.

So, Ricky was unbearably nervous as he stood in the middle of the Room of Requirement, which had been stripped bare of anything but the torches on the walls, with their dancing flames that reflected on the stones and tinged the room in a warm hue. But he was also secure in his resolve, made strong by the conviction that he was doing the right thing. That EJ was the right thing.

It had been painfully fun, to come up with all those ideas to cause ruckus around the school. It was like nothing had changed between them, like Ricky was still just trying to rile EJ up in the bantering game that had first made him fall for the Slytherin Head Boy.

But he couldn’t keep it up any longer: if EJ wanted to talk to him, he could do it now. If not, Ricky would just have to make peace with it. He just hoped he’d never have to find out what that would be like.

When the door creaked open, Ricky held his breath: the sense of Deja-vu weighed on his shoulders, and he knew that EJ was just as painfully aware that the last time they’d been in this room together, their relationship had been torn to shreds. But Ricky believed in the magic of gestures, and symmetries; as EJ closed the door behind him, he took in his rigid posture, the guarded look in his eyes. Ricky’s mouth dried completely as they studied one another, the familiarity of being alone together tainted by the discomfort of all the ways they’d hurt each other, willingly or not.

“Hey, stranger,” said Ricky, his voice strained. EJ’s brows furrowed immediately, and Ricky hated the downwards slant of his mouth. “I… thank you, for coming.”

It took EJ almost half a minute to find the words to answer.

“I had to,” he replied curtly. “You stole all my pens.”

“You weren’t responding to anything else; I knew I had to go big somehow.” Ricky said. He knew they were taking a very long detour to get to the heart of the conversation, but it felt nice and he didn’t mind it.

“The Ravenclaw eagle was a nice touch, though.” EJ took a tentative step towards him and Ricky instinctively mirrored him.

“I thought you might appreciate it. It needed an attitude check.”

There was no mistaking it now - EJ was fighting back a smile. Merlin, why couldn’t it always be this easy?

“Do you have any idea how many house points you could lose if they find out it’s you?” EJ asked; there was no heat behind it, and it was painful to realize how easy it was to slide back into the old habits, as if nothing had happened.

“Honestly, I don’t give half a fuck,” he replied.

EJ’s lips quivered just barely, and Ricky saw his own sadness reflected in his eyes.

“What do you want, then?” He asked, warily.

Detour finished.

“To talk, with you.” He replied, pushing his hands in the pockets of his uniform to hide the fidgeting of his fingers. He cast his eyes downwards. “To apologize.”

EJ was as still as a statue and Ricky took his chance to blurt out all that had been muddling up in chest, before he could lose his nerve.

“I never meant what I said in the Hospital Wing. I only said that because I was angry, and I thought you’d used me to win the Quidditch game. And I’m sorry about that too, for thinking that you could… that you could do something like that. I knew you couldn’t, deep down, I knew it. I just - I just didn’t want to see it, because I thought it was obvious, that you wouldn’t really… want me. Just like…”

Ricky gulped down, doing his best to keep his eyes dry and his voice firm. But EJ’s gaze was locked on his own, as if the only way he had of staying upright was by hanging on to Ricky’s eyes.

“Just like your mom,” he completed the sentence for him, and Ricky bit his lip in an effort to hold back the tears. Of course EJ would know.

“I’m sorry I ruined everything,” he said. “It’s all my fault.”

“It’s not, Ricky.” EJ was clenching his jaw, and he took one step forward.

“For once that I can actually take the blame for messing things up, just let me do it” Ricky scoffed bitterly.

“No.” EJ shook his head. “Because it’s my fault too. I should have told you about that lie I said to my teammates. Hell, I probably shouldn’t have lied at all in the first place. I just didn’t want you to think about it right before the game. But I guess I messed up anyway, didn’t I?”

EJ averted his eyes this time. He’d tried to keep his composure, but Ricky saw right through it: the pain in his voice hurt him more than the bludger he’d taken to head. He knew him well enough to recognize that EJ didn’t like taking risks, unless he’d calculated every possible outcome to make sure things would go his way. Yet, kissing Ricky had been a reckless shot in the dark - the kind of thing Ricky himself had tried to convince him to do sometimes, to loosen up a little. Ricky’s reaction must have shattered his confidence: it was his turn now, to put his walls down.

Time to call upon the daring, nerve, and reckless sincerity.

“You didn’t mess up anything. I was a mess, and that’s why I ran away.” Ricky’s voice was shaking, but he took a deep breath and looked straight into EJ’s eyes. “I guess the truth is… The truth is that I really like you, EJ, and I didn’t even want to admit it to myself. Because when things are good I… I just think that… I don’t deserve them. And I know I don’t deserve you.”

He didn’t want to cry, this time, but it wasn’t easy: EJ’s whole face had lit up, and he looked at Ricky in complete wonder. It was the expression of someone who’d just heard something he desperately wished for but hadn’t allowed himself to hope upon.

“That’s bullshit, Ricky.” EJ replied, visibly choked up. “You deserve everything that’s good in the world. I don’t know if that’s me, but… you deserve to be happy. And I’m sorry I made you think that I could ever prefer a stupid Quidditch Cup over you. I would have given it up without even thinking about it if I knew that to win a game I was losing - I was losing you.”

Ricky didn’t know much about love, but he knew it could spark like a fire: that instincts would lead him to passionate and sudden gestures, and that throwing his arms around someone’s neck and kissing them until their legs gave out would be the best way to show how much he liked the other. EJ had made him feel like that more times than he could count; and yet, now that they were standing there, their souls bared before each other’s eyes, it wasn’t a raging fire that Ricky felt in his chest, somewhere on the left side of his ribcage. It was the unwavering warmth of the dawning sun, raising from the bottom of his feet to his navel, to his chest, to the tips of his fingertips. His palms were warm when he cradled EJ’s face in his hands, thumbs caressing from his temples to the corner of his lips. EJ’s hands were shaking holding his waist, and Ricky leaned forward; he saw the green of his eyes disappear behind his lashes when EJ fluttered them closed, and his breath was warm too, as it touched on Ricky’s lips.

He had had his fair share of kisses before, but they were like fireflies compared to the brightness of a star: EJ’s lips were soft as they parted for Ricky and he tugged him closer, kissing him softly. He slid one hand to the back of his neck, stroking the exposed skin from the bottom of his hairline to the collar of his shirt, and EJ shuddered; Ricky felt his heart hammer against his chest but then he couldn’t think anymore, because EJ’s arms tightened against him, one hand traveling from his waist to his back, and he kissed him in return, deep and slow.

Ricky didn’t know how much time had passed, but when they finally parted his hand was on EJ’s neck and he could feel the pulse of his racing heartbeat; smiling, he pressed another kiss on his lips, then another one, and traced the line of his jaw until he left a smacking kiss right under his ear.

EJ huffed out a breathy laugh, as if he’d just ran all the way from the dungeons to the top of the Astronomy tower. His eyes were shining, and he placed his fingertips under Ricky’s chin to angle his face towards him; neither of them felt the need to fill the silence with words, happy to simply look at each other. EJ’s gaze traveled from Ricky’s eyes, to his lips, and then to his neck. He looked like he was having a hard time containing a cheek-splitting smile; then, after a moment of hesitation, he spoke.

“Can I…” he cleared his throat, and Ricky tightened the arm he had around his waist on instinct. If EJ’s voice sounded like that after a good kiss, he might just ask the Room of Requirement to get rid of the door and keep him in there forever. “Can I fix your tie?”

Of all the things he’d thought EJ might say, that was decidedly unexpected.

“I - what?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just - it’s all done wrong, and it bothers me so much.”

Ricky stared at him, completely dumbfounded.

“We just kissed and all you think about is that you’re bothered by my tie? Sure, fix away,” he sighed.

There was a teasing glint at the bottom of EJ’s eyes as he disentangled their embrace and wordlessly began twisting the tie around. His fingers brushed along Ricky’s neck and he felt his skin flush at the contact; he gulped and averted his eyes. He realized that this probably wasn’t the first time EJ had wanted to do this, and the thought made his knees buckle.

“There,” whispered the Slytherin. “Much better.” He smoothed his thumb along the fabric and hesitated for a second; then he clasped his fingers around Ricky’s tie, tugged him forward, and kissed him again.

Chuckling against his lips, Ricky let him set the pace, and stroke his hands through his smoothly styled hair. EJ mumbled a protest against his mouth, but Ricky shut it down, running his lips down his chin and neck. When he looked at him again, the green in EJ’s eyes was swallowed by the blackness of his pupils, his cheeks were flushed, and locks of dark hair fell on his forehead. He decided he’d make it a point of getting EJ to look like that much more often.

“There,” he mocked. “Much better.”

EJ gently bit his bottom lip in retaliation.

“You know it’s past curfew, right?” Ricky snickered, when EJ started kissing him again.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Can’t say I give a fuck.”

“What have I done to you?” Ricky laughed, but the look EJ’s gave him was intense. He thought he was going to say something, but then EJ shook his head, and pressed his lips on Ricky’s.

For all that Ricky had learned the value of honest and thorough communication, sometimes a kiss could be more eloquent than a thousand words.

Chapter Text

Saturday, June 5th

The Great Hall
9.15 AM

A lazy, comfortable silence filled the Great Hall on the Saturday morning of the last Quidditch game of the year. Not many students woke up before ten, so the only sounds in the vast room were the gentle tingling of spoons against cups of coffee, and the light chirping of birds outside the castle. The ceiling reflected the terse blue sky, and rays of sunlight filtered through the tall windows, reverberating on the jars of pumpkin juice at the table where the Slytherin Quidditch team was gathered.

EJ was trying to set the example for the rest of the team, forcing pieces of toast down his throat; it was like trying to swallow sandpaper, and he chugged it down with a big sip of coffee.

“Morning, guys!” Exclaimed a voice behind his shoulders. EJ turned abruptly: Ricky had arrived unnoticed, proudly sporting a green and silver tie laced like a bandana around his forehead, to keep his curls from falling over his eyes.

EJ choked on the coffee and toast that he was still trying to swallow.

A fit of collective laughter exploded around the table and he felt his cheeks burn, as he tried to regain control of his airways.

“EJ, man!” Frances teased, frozen in the act of peeling an orange. “If this is how you usually greet your boyfriend, the Slytherin House dishonors you.”

Ricky chuckled and leaned against EJ’s back, placing his hands on his shoulders and digging his thumbs on the contracted muscles below his neck; he relaxed almost immediately and twisted his head upwards to look at him.

“What are you even doing awake so early?” He asked, raising his eyebrows. Ricky’s hands were warm on his shoulders and he leaned back against him.

“It’s nine fifteen, not six,” Ricky pointedly replied. “And I just wanted to wish you guys good luck before you disappeared in the changing rooms.”

His eyes were shining, and EJ felt the twisting and turning of nervousness in his belly settle down just barely.

“Thanks,” he smiled back. Ricky’s thumb caressed his neck, unseen from the rest of the team, and EJ wished they could all be suddenly hit with a Stunning Spell so he could tug Ricky down by the hem of his t-shirt and kiss the living daylights out of him. Ricky’s nail scratched against his scalp as they look at each other, and EJ knew they were thinking the same thing.

“Nice hairdo, Bowen,” called out Nelson, and shrugged when everyone looked at him. “What? Another five seconds of these heated looks and the table catches fire.”

Another fit of giggles exploded around the table; Gina was hiding her grin behind her hand, and EJ preferred to take another sip of his coffee, while Ricky stopped his massage and leaned with his forearms on his shoulders.

“Thanks, James,” he said, pretending to be unfazed. “I would have worn a scarf but it’s way too hot today.”

He was letting his hair grow longer, and sometimes he needed bandannas or ties to keep them out of his eyes. Nini kept asking to braid it, and EJ suspected she’d try to get Gina to help her devise a plan to get Ricky drunk enough to let her do it. Personally, EJ didn’t mind tangling his fingers in the longer strands of curls when they hid behind a suit of armor between classes; and judging by the light moans huffed on his lips every time he tugged on them during a kiss, Ricky seemed to like it too.

“Where did you even get it?” He asked, tucking a stray curl back into place. Ricky bent his head forward to ease his access.

“You know where,” he replied lightly, and EJ scoffed. Ricky’s bad habit of sneaking into the Slytherin common room at all times had cost them more than one embarrassing allusion, and neither of them liked it when people pried into their business. But sometimes not even the threat of teasing from EJ’s housemates, or of losing a million point for Gryffindor, were enough of a deterrent. Sometimes, they just gravitated towards each other and nothing could keep them apart.

Then Gina coughed loudly, and they realized that the Slytherin team had suddenly seemed to acquire an extreme interest for the contents of their plates: Charles had turned the same color of the sausage he was supposed to be eating.

EJ didn’t really care; Ricky’s warm weight against his shoulders and back was so comforting that he could have had the whole school staring and he wouldn’t have budged.

Watch all you want; I know you all envy me.

Ricky wouldn’t have approved of his line of thoughts, but fortunately his boyfriend wasn’t as talented at Legimancyas he was at charms.

Then Ashlyn’s abrupt arrival in the Great Hall capitalized everyone’s attention; as the team turned to look at her running towards them, Ricky suck a quick kiss on the side of EJ’s neck.

“Good morning!” Ashlyn chirped with a smile. “Feeling good?”

She had ditched the midnight blue Ravenclaw t-shirt she always wore when her house played a game, and instead had opted for a handmade green one, with Slytherin’s silver snake wrapped around a Quaffle.

“Ash,” EJ smiled, a little moved by the gesture. He still couldn’t believe this was his last game ever as Slytherin Captain, and every time he thought about it, he felt like tearing up.

“Ravenclaw will understand my switch in loyalty today,” she said. Then she snuck a glance at Ricky, pressing her lips together and raising her eyebrows expectantly.

“It’s nine thirty,” she said.

“Right,” Ricky nodded, then stiffened and jumped on his feet. “Right! Gotta go!”

“Go where?” EJ turned on the bench to face him and Ricky sported a bright but slightly guilty smile.

“There’s some… thing I have to get. For the game,” he explained, and EJ squinted suspiciously at him.

“What thing would you need to get for a game you’re not even playing in?” He asked. “You’re not doing the commentary, are you?”

They’d joked about it, once.

“You know, I’m kind of bummed that the only time we got to play Quidditch together was such a disaster,” EJ said, hand in hand with Ricky in front of the Quidditch supply shop in Hogsmeade. “We should definitely have a rematch.”

“I’m not in a rush to get back on a broomstick, to be honest,” Ricky shrugged, casting his eyes down “I think I’m still a little traumatized by that bludger.”

EJ felt a pang of guilt to his chest, and hugged Ricky close. He was glad he could do that now.

“Hey,” Ricky smiled up at him and planted a messy kiss on his chin. “I could do the commentary next time.”

There was a mischievous glint of teasing in his eyes and EJ felt himself blush on instinct.

“And Caswell’s got the Quaffle,” Ricky cleared his throat, imitating the practical voice tone of a radio speaker. “Look how sexy he looks with the wind in his hair, he should consider keeping it like that every day. Maybe his strategy is to look so good that the adversary Keeper forgets to block the rings?”

“I’m not doing the commentary,” Ricky answered. “But I can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.”

“For me?” EJ felt like something warm and soft had just broke into his belly. Sometimes it still didn’t feel real, that Ricky and he were together, like, an actual couple.

“No, for Miss Jenn,” Ricky rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s for you!”

“I hope this is not a code for something,” hissed Gina, directing an icy glare to her best friend.

“I promise, it’s one hundred percent family friendly” Ricky’s smile went from ear to ear and Ashlyn chuckled, mysteriously enough.

“What…” EJ scrutinized Ricky’s face, but then his boyfriend cupped his cheeks between his hands and kissed him square on the mouth. Sunlight was shining behind his closed eyes, the whole team and Ashlyn were watching them, and Ricky’s mouth tasted like muggle fruit candy. Four months of dating had taught EJ exactly what a perfect moment could feel like: he’d had a least a couple dozen of them.

“Good luck,” Ricky whispered on his lips, before stepping away. “See you later!”

He waved as he and Ashlyn ran out of the Great Hall together; the rest of the team waited until they’d disappeared behind the doors before exploding in a collective fit of sighs, moans, and giggles.

“Disgusting,” joked Frances, throwing a piece of orange peel towards EJ. “I refuse to be led by such a sappy Captain.”

“I don’t think I can fly today, I got cavities in every single one of my teeth.” Nelson added, and EJ flipped them both off with a sugary smile.

“Stop being so envious, it’s unbecoming,” he replied, earning snickers from both Gina and Evelyn. “Come on, let’s go before the rest of the school gets here.”

He led the way to the changing rooms, Nelson and Frances almost carrying him on their shoulders for half the way there.

It had taken a while, but they’d finally talked things through and mended their friendship, over the course of the last months; EJ had been resentful at first, but Ricky had talked him into it. It was mostly his quick forgiveness of the Quidditch Incident (“You can’t really blame Slytherins for being Slytherins,” Ricky had joked, and EJ hadn’t minded) that had prompted him to go through with it.

One hour later EJ had changed into his Quidditch robes and was pacing up and down the changing room, buzzing with excitement as the voices and footsteps of the students who started coming down to the stadium could be heard from outside.

“We’re the best team Hogwarts has seen in decades,” he stated, staring at the six people he’d been training for two years. “Charles and Nelson, your bludgers are basically lethal. Rania, Evelyn, your penalties and fakes will make Smith cry, up at the Ravenclaw rings. Frances, you literally hold the record for most Quaffles blocked in a Quidditch season, and Gina, you’ve never missed a snitch. We are going to win this Cup, I have no doubt about it.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Gina smiled from her usual seat at the back of the room. “We couldn’t be the best Quidditch team without the best Quidditch Captain, right?”

“Damn right,” agreed Frances, slapping a hand on his shoulder. “The one who looks out for the team even when they don’t realize it themselves.”

EJ glanced around the room, feeling his heart swell in his chest: all the hardships and pain he’d been through paled, compared to the euphoric feeling that ran through his veins now. The only thing that could make this moment better was…

“Captain, I think you have a visitor,” snickered Evelyn. “Again.”

Ricky was peeking from the door and EJ reached him immediately. He hadn’t forgotten about the supposed surprise.

“Hey,” Ricky said, glancing up and down at him as if to make sure that everything was in order. “Just wanted to check in on you before I go up to the stands. How are you feeling?”

“Good” EJ nodded, and Ricky raised his eyebrows at him “Okay, really nervous. But in a good way.”

“Okay,” Ricky smiled confidently. “You got this.”

“Yeah,” EJ nodded and tugged Ricky forward for a frantic, excited kiss. He closed the door to the changing rooms with a kick and pushed him against it, as Ricky clasped the front of his robes: he half-wished that time could just stretch and slow down upon this moment of perfect bliss, when nothing real existed aside from Ricky’s lips down the line of his neck and his body modeled against EJ’s. Then…

“Ashy! Is it this way?” Yelled an excited, childish voice, and EJ’s eyes snapped open.

What the fuck?

“Uh-oh,” Ricky straightened himself up. “This was not supposed to happen.”

There were very few reasons that may have prompted EJ to back away from Ricky when he looked like that, disheveled and with his lips swollen from a kiss. The school being on fire, for example; or an impromptu visit from his childhood idol, Minister Granger; or a sudden return of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters from the pits of hell.

Or again, his little sister suddenly appearing in front of the Quidditch stadium, her blond hair parted in neat braids that were being held together by green and silver little bows, and her face lighting up like a small sun as soon as she saw him.

“EJ!” She shrieked, sprinting towards him as fast as she could. “EJ, I’m at Hogwarts!”

EJ felt like he’d just been smacked in the head with a troll’s bat: he bent his knees just in time to scoop Cordelia up when she launched herself at him and they ended up spinning around a couple times with the force of her momentum.

This can’t be true. How on Earth…

But he already knew how. Still too stunned to utter a word, he glanced above Cordelia’s head on his shoulder and saw Ricky, a hand pressed to his mouth and eyes already wet with happy tears, watching them. It was like his heart had suddenly grown too big for his ribcage to contain it.

“Hey Tiny,” his voice trembled as he smacked a kiss on top of his sister’s head. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you play!” Cordelia tightened her arms around his neck and almost cut his breath short, but EJ didn’t mind. Happy wasn’t a good enough word to describe his feelings at the moment. “Ricky and Ashy came to get me from Professor Jenn’s office and I flooed here all by myself! With the powder and all!”

“I - what?” Despite the thrill of seeing his sister again - she was at least a couple centimeters taller and the Slytherin colors on her braids made him swell with pride - EJ couldn’t help feeling alarmed. “Did you sneak her in?” He asked Ricky, as she kicked him in the shins in an effort to be put back down to the ground.

“No!” Ricky laughed a little guiltily. “Yes. A little.”

“Ricky!”

“Hey, it’s all good. I promise,” Ricky’s smile was soft and cheeky, and EJ tried to take in the enormity of it all. There was just one thing he truly regretted, he’d once told Ricky: that he would never be at Hogwarts with his little sister, that he would never get to walk the grounds with her. And not only he’d fixed that for him, but he’d also made sure she would see him play and, with a little luck, secure the Quidditch Cup.

I love you.

“I can’t believe you,” he scoffed, feigning annoyance. But he broke into a grin immediately when he looked at his sister again. “Great braids, Tiny. Did Ashlyn do them?”

He glanced up at their cousin, who smiled back at him with her hands behind her back. He wasn’t entirely reassured by Ricky’s answer that it was all good - they had very different concepts of what that could mean when applied to rules and legality in general - but if Ashlyn was involved, he probably could trust that Ricky wasn’t going to risk expulsion.

“Nini helped,” Ricky replied. “She’s been trying to braid my hair again and she was delighted when Ellie said she wanted some too.”

“Ellie?” EJ repeated, glancing between Ricky and Cordelia, who gave him a huge grin.

“Yes! Ricky says it’s a good nickname and I love it! I want to be Ellie now! Do you like it?”

EJ watched Ricky and Cordelia - no, Ellie, exchange an impish grin and, for the third time that day, had to reconsider on the idea that he couldn’t possibly get any happier.

“It suits you,” he said, earning a hug from her. “I can’t believe you’ve known my sister for less than an hour and you’ve already given her a nickname.” He added to Ricky.

“What, you wanted to be the only Caswell with a cool nickname?” Ricky was quick to retort, and Ellie giggled, giving him a completely enamored look.

Oh, Salazar. He’s already got her wrapped around his finger.

“Ellie, let’s go get our seats!” Ashlyn called out, extending her hand towards the little girl. “If we keep EJ here any longer, they’re going to start the game without him.”

EJ glanced down at his watch: only fifteen minutes left before the game. His stomach knotted, but Ellie tackled him again and despite the added weight of an eleven-year-old girl, he felt a little lighter.

“Good luck! I know you’re going to win because Ricky says you’re the best and you wrote me that Ricky is really smart so it must be true,” she said, squeezing him around the neck once again. Then she jumped back to the ground and grabbed Ashlyn’s hand, waving excitedly until they disappeared from their visual field.

“You should go too,” Ricky nudged at him gently. “Your presence is kind of fundamental.”

EJ looked at Ricky and tried to find the words to thank him, but nothing seemed appropriate enough to make justice to the enormity of what he was feeling. Ricky must have mistaken his silence for nerves, because he frowned slightly.

“I... I’m sorry about this. I wanted to wait after the game so you wouldn’t be distracted, I really didn’t want to mess up your concentration, or…” he mumbled.

Is he really saying sorry about this?

Maybe it was Ellie’s influence, but he didn’t hesitate in throwing his arms around Ricky’s neck and tackling him in a bone-crushing hug. He also made it a point to kiss him thoroughly, until they were both panting for air on each other’s lips.

“Gotta go,” EJ finally whispered, pressing his forehead against Ricky’s. “I… thank you.”

Ricky bit back a smile and pushed his shoulders lightly.

“Go. I’ll be cheering.”

EJ walked back to the door.

“I’ll dedicate every Quaffle I score to you.” He said, pressing a hand on his heart.

“I’ll wave a handkerchief with your initials, so you know where I am.” Ricky retorted, starting to walk backwards.

“I’ll blow you a kiss every time I dodge a bludger.” EJ snickered and Ricky’s eyes bulged out in indignation.

“You son of a banshee!” He spluttered. “Too soon!”

EJ laughed as Ricky flipped him off, only to turn his middle finger in a heart gesture with both hands just before turning the corner. He’d never taken a sip of Felix Felicis, but if he had to guess what it might feel like, he supposed that this must be pretty close.

The Quidditch Pitch
10:58 AM

Ricky’s head was still spinning from the adrenaline after EJ’s last kiss when he reached the spot his friends had saved for him on the stands, close to the Ravenclaw rings. The air was electric that day: he didn’t know if it was the excited buzz of chatter as the whole school joined together in the packed stadium, or the way EJ had glowed when he’d seen his sister for the first time after months, but Ricky felt his own magic flow in his veins like pure energy. He climbed the stands and reached the empty seat between Nini and Ellie, but didn’t sit down. He was too pumped.

“Just in time,” commented Seb, who was letting Kourtney paint the Slytherin colors on his cheeks. “They’re coming in.”

The Ravenclaw team started approaching center field from the left-hand side of the pitch, while Slytherin came out from the right. EJ was immediately noticeable, guiding the team with his Firebolt proudly in his hand and ‘Caswell 1’ written in silver on the back of his green robes. Ricky didn’t have time to let his heart swell with pride, because as soon as she caught sight of her brother, Ellie scrambled forward, actively trying to dive from the stands.

“That’s EJ!” She shrieked. “GO SLYTHERIN!”

“Careful!” Ricky wrapped a hand around her waist and held her back, feeling his heart skip a beat. He’d agreed to take all responsibility over her presence there, as he was already of age, and he was beginning to think it might be more of a challenge than he’d initially thought. Ashlyn had been delighted at the idea when he’d suggested to her that they try and bring Ellie in for EJ’s last game, but she’d also advised him that they’d have to keep an eye on her at all times. Ricky had shrugged: she was EJ’s sister, so if she was half as well-mannered and composed as he was, it wouldn’t have been a problem.

It turned out she wasn’t, and Ricky would have found it hilarious, if he hadn’t just had a small heart attack.

“And the players kick off!” Announced Bagley. “It’s going to be a challenge for Ravenclaw today as they need to win with a margin of 450 points if they want to take the Quidditch Cup from Slytherin. And it’s June with the Quaffle for Slytherin…”

The first time EJ scored, Ricky hugged Nini as they jumped up and down. The second time, Ellie almost deafened him with an ear-splitting scream and jumped on his back, claiming that she could see better from there. She ended up sitting on his shoulders, and the third time EJ scored and flew right in front of them to celebrate, Ricky was positive he’d done a double take. He gripped the kicking calves of the over-excited eleven-year-old girl and felt his cheeks hurt, so hard he was smiling.

Sometimes the enormity of the happiness he felt in these moments was overwhelming. Sometimes, when he stood back from the instant he was living and tried to observe it from the outside, it didn’t even feel like it was his own life: he would blink, and find himself surrounded by so many good people he had a hard time believing they were real. Nini, who had never left his side and always had a kind word even when he knew he didn’t deserve it. Gina, who was fierce and strong and never let him get away with being too much of an idiot; Big Red, who in turn always encouraged his biggest idiocies. Seb, who had turned out to be the best listener Ricky had ever met. Carlos, who delivered the snarkiest and funniest retorts in every discussion. Ashlyn, who was down for anything as long as no one got hurt, and even Kourtney, who really, really wanted Gryffindor to win the House Cup.

And then there was EJ: it was hard for Ricky not to get scared of how good life was with him. It wasn’t always easy, and that was on both of them. After their rocky start, there had been a few bumps in the road here and there. The first time EJ had called Ricky his boyfriend in the middle of lunch, it had sent Ricky fleeing to the latest remote passageway he had discovered and only after the shedding of some tears and a long conversation about trust, communication and the importance of being on the same page, everything had gone back to normal.

It was then that Ricky learned he had nothing to fear from confrontations, because instead of demolishing their relationship like he’d seen happen to his parents, they were the very thing that helped them grow stronger.

(“And that’s when I realized that I loved you,” he’d would eventually tell EJ, months after the day of the Quidditch final “I even like fighting with you.”

“And you were surprised?” EJ would retort. “That’s exactly how our whole thing started.”

But then he would kiss him, and both of them would agree that there were better ways to channel their fiery passion for each other than through their bickering.)

“One hundred - forty for Slytherin!” Screeched Natalie Bagley, trying her best to be heard over the chants of the green-and-silver supporters.

“Look for Gina!” Shouted Ricky, squinting at the green-clad players who zoomed across the field “She’s gonna start seeking now!”

“There she is!” Nini pointed excitedly across the field, where Gina was elegantly dodging a Ravenclaw Chaser while scrutinizing the pitch up and down in search for the Snitch. Ricky felt his heart pump loudly in his chest: he desperately wanted Slytherin to win this game. EJ fucking deserved that Cup.

“The Snitch!” Ellie jolted and twisted on Ricky’s shoulders, so suddenly he almost let her fall. “It’s right there near the rings! Look Gina, it’s there!”

“Morgana Ellie, how did you see that?” Commented Seb, impressed. He helped Ricky getting her back down on the stands, and she jumped on her seat excitedly. Gina had found the Snitch too.

“And Porter dives! Could this be one of her famous fakes, or has she really seen the Snitch?” Bagley shouted.

“SHE HAS!” Ellie felt compelled to scream back, and despite the excitement, Ricky snickered along with everyone else.

“Goldstein tails Porter as the Slytherin Seeker gets closer and closer, the Snitch is - no! Excellent bludger from Ravenclaw! Almost hit their own Seeker, but it appears the Snitch has disappeared again!”

The crowd groaned in disappointment as Gina and Goldstein dispersed to avoid the bludger; Ricky saw his friend circle the pitch again, and when she passed their side of the stands, he noticed her fuming look. He was so glad he’d never have to play against her again.

Then he saw EJ approach her, Quaffle forgotten for a second: his hair look tousled and his expression was fierce and determined, and it made Ricky’s knees buckle. He shouted something to Gina before flying away again, and the wind carried his words to Ricky’s ears with a few seconds of delay.

“I’ll cover for you! Don’t stop next time!”

Now Ricky’s knees felt weak for a completely different reason.

“What?” Big Red had heard it too, and turned to Ricky with his mouth agape “What does he want to do?”

Ricky gripped the edge of the seat in front of him, unable to take his eyes away from EJ.

“He wants to win” he hissed back “The reckless idiot…”

“Porter’s on it again!” Announced an excited Bagley “It looks like Goldstein is too far away this time…”

The chants of the crowd were muted to Ricky’s ears: his heart skipped a beat when he noticed EJ drop the Quaffle into Rogers’s hands, and immediately put himself on Gina’s tail. He flew a couple of meters above her, as she extended her arm away from her broomstick; everyone around him was screaming their incitements, but Ricky only had eyes for EJ as he suddenly looked behind his shoulders, flattened against the Firebolt and lowered a couple meters, getting closer to Gina. Ricky had seen it too: the Ravenclaw beater had shot a bludger and it was aiming directly at his friend. Gina’s fingers were inches away from the Snitch and it all happened in a fraction of a second: EJ suddenly veered forward, colliding spectacularly with the bludger that sent him spiraling against the Ravenclaw stands.

“PORTER CAUGHT THE SNITCH!” Screamed Bagley “SLYTHERIN WINS THREE HUNDRED TO SEVENTY!”

But the victory screams turned to horrified shouts as the whole stadium followed EJ’s trajectory: he had lost control of his Firebolt and was aiming towards the ground, where he fell with a nasty thud that reverberated in the stunned silence. Ellie sobbed, hiding her face against Ricky’s stomach; he held her shoulders with shaking hands, unable to speak while he watched, transfixed, as the Slytherin team quickly landed around him. Frances and Nelson pulled EJ to his feet: he looked pale and his arm immediately went to his waist, where the bludger had hit him. He looked for Gina, who was standing in front of him with her eyes wide open; his eyes dropped to her fist, still clenched around the Golden Snitch, and suddenly a huge grin exploded on his face, and he enveloped her in a hug.

The stadium exploded as EJ and Gina disappeared beneath the collective embrace of the Slytherin team, and Ricky felt like he’d just dismounted a very fast spinning carousel: he felt dizzy as he bent down towards Ellie to reassure her.

“It’s alright!” He shouted, looking into her eyes that were the exact same shape and color of her brother’s. “EJ’s alright! They won!”

“Then why are you crying?” Ellie shouted back, looking a little taken aback. Ricky laughed through his own tears and fixed the tie on his head. Carlos was waving a Slytherin flag, screaming like a madman; Nini and Seb had to hold him as he almost slipped and fell from the seat he was standing on.

They followed the stream of students pouring out on the field; EJ was being transported on the shoulders of his teammates, but as soon as he saw their group approaching, he shouted something, and they put him down. Ricky reached him faster than if EJ had used a Summoning Spell on him.

“You fucking idiot,” he told the Slytherin, still shaking from the shock of seeing his boyfriend being hit by a bludger but unable to hold back a grin. “I am so proud of you.”

It didn’t matter that they were at the center of the biggest crowd that had ever gathered in the Quidditch field, that EJ’s waist was probably going to sport an ugly bruise, that every single one of their teachers and the Headmaster must be looking at them: when EJ wrapped his arms around him and kissed him like they were the only real victory that mattered, Ricky forgot that the rest of the world existed. He threw his arm around EJ’s neck to tug him forward with the crook of his elbow and kissed him back so fiercely they almost lost their balance.

Someone probably whistled in the chaos, but Ricky didn’t care; he pressed his lips on EJ’s once again after they separated and finally let him go, allowing enough space for Ellie to try and tackle him down once again.

“Careful!” It was Ashlyn who held her back this time. “I don’t think EJ needs to be hit by another bludger.”

“You were the best!” Ellie screamed, and Ricky had a very hard time restraining himself when he saw that there were actual, real tears shining in EJ’s eyes as his little sister looked at him like a real-life hero. “I was so scared! I had so much fun!”

EJ let Ellie and Ashlyn envelop him in a collective hug and Ricky made a mental note to get himself one of those special parchments that allowed you to print out a memory like a picture. He never wanted to forget that moment.

“You still haven’t told me how the hell you managed to sneak Ellie in,” said EJ sometime later, as the teachers tried to get everyone back on the stands for the Quidditch Cup Ceremony. He was riding on an adrenaline high that made him forget the pain he must undoubtedly be feeling in his waist, but Madame Pomfrey was trailing his every move from the sidelines like a hawk about to dive in on its prey.

“Right,” Ricky laughed self-consciously, and glanced around: everyone had been sent back to their seats, except for the twenty students that participated in the Frog Choir, who were positioning themselves in front of the podium where the Slytherin team would soon be crowned champion.

EJ raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“I made a deal with the devil,” Ricky snickered in front of his puzzled expression, and gave him a quick kiss on the side of his mouth. “And I’m about to go pay my dues.”

He left EJ with the rest of his team as he ran to join Nini and Seb in the Choir; they were both gesturing for him to hurry up, and Ricky had to bite back a laugh when he saw EJ gaping at him.

He prided himself on his skills for troublemaking and sneaking around, but he hadn’t needed to use any single one of those to get Ellie to the game: he’d gone to Headmaster Flitwick offering himself up for the Frog Choir in exchange for the permission, and the Headmaster had asked him not to tell anyone how fast he’d accepted the deal.

Going to the rehearsals without EJ suspecting anything had been hard, until Ricky had found out that Miss Jenn would step in as director; at that point, he’d unashamedly used his privilege as her favorite student to get the teacher to schedule rehearsals every time the Slytherin team was out for practice. It had been fun, all in all: Headmaster Flitwick had even agreed to his suggestion to insert some muggle tunes in the traditional repertoire.

The Choir performed the Hogwarts anthem and a traditional Celtic song before the Headmaster’s delighted gaze; when they finished, Flitwick twirled his wand in the air and the sunlight itself seemed to bend and stretch, turning into a shining golden cup, surmounted by a Snitch. Ricky couldn’t see it from the distance, but he knew that the plaque at the bottom had the names of the team inscribed, with EJ’s at the top. It would stand on the shelves of the Trophy Room for centuries, and even though no student really ever looked at them except for when they were searching for distant relatives, Ricky knew that it would mean the world to EJ. He watched as the Slytherin team approached the podium: EJ accepted the cup from the Headmaster and took a good moment to look at it, eyes shining with indescribable emotion. Then he held it out for all the team to grab on, and together they lifted it for the school to see, the roaring applause reverberating among the stands like an explosion of fireworks.

As the Slytherins descended from the podium and placed themselves directly opposite to the Choir, Miss Jenn cleared her throat and held her arms out expectantly: it was time for their last song. Ricky looked at Gina, who shook her head in disbelief - mostly because for once, he’d actually managed to keep a secret from her - and then at EJ. He wanted to find a way to tell him that he’d proposed this song to Miss Jenn with him in mind, but he hoped that EJ would understand anyway.

He recovered his guitar while other students grabbed hand drums, tambourines, even maracas and a flute. Miss Jenn had encouraged them to get creative.

Under the captivated silence of the rest of the school, they began playing and Ricky gently nudged Nini’s elbow for confidence as she took a step forward to sing the first verse.

“When the night has come and the land is dark, and the moon is the only light you see,” she intoned, and smiled at Ricky as he joined her. His fingers prickled the chords of the guitar and he looked straight ahead at EJ: it was just the two of them, not alone in the Room of Requirement anymore, but still enclosed in a bubble that no one would be able to burst.

“No I won’t be afraid, oh I won’t be afraid, just as long as you stand, stand by me,” he sang. EJ’s faced exhibited a singularly scrunched expression, and Ricky wasn’t fazed by how all the Slytherin team was snickering at him and clapping their hands on EJ’s back. He kept singing as the choir joined and knew in his heart that every word of the song rang true for him. Life was often scary, but even a proud Gryffindor like him wasn’t afraid to admit that it was much easier to be brave, with a sneaky, caring Slytherin by his side.

The shore of the Dark Lake
7:16  PM

The sun was finally beginning to curve lower on the horizon, but its rays were still warm enough to heat Ricky’s back as he sat on the grass with his legs extended and EJ’s head comfortably in his lap. Flitwick had given the students permission to hold the Slytherin party out in the open, and the music and shouts hadn’t died down yet, but they were a comforting background noise in the spot where their group had retreated, near the willow by the lakeshore.

“I never thought for a second Goldstein could beat me,” Gina was saying, sprawled on the grass with her eyes closed and a smile on her face as she probably relived the last moments of the game. “Honestly, Ricky, you were more of a threat with two weeks of training and during a panic attack than he ever was.”

“Thank you,” Ricky replied, lazily running a hand through EJ’s hair. “You truly have the sweetest way with words.”

A delighted shriek reached their ears, and everyone turned towards it: Ellie and Seb were standing in the shallow water, throwing pieces of cream tarts to the Giant Squid. As they watched, one of its tentacles extended lazily close to Ellie’s face and she gave it a high-five, much to everyone’s amusement. The Squid retreated to the darkest depths of the lake, and Ellie ran back to them leaving Seb to recollect both their pairs of shoes abandoned on the grass.

“EJ did you see me?” She shouted, as her brother sat up with a grin. “I high-fived the Squid!”

“Well done, Tiny,” he complimented, fixing the hem of the jeans legs that Ellie had messily rolled up to her calves in an attempt to prevent them from getting soaked. “Cream tarts are its favorites. Never give the strawberry ones. Biggest mistake of my first year.”

“How was your first year, EJ?” Asked Ashlyn, taking a sip of the Butterbeer she was sharing with Big Red.

“Amazing,” EJ replied, looking into the distance with a smile. “None of you nagging people around…” he doubled over when Ricky punished him with a pinch in the waist. “Slytherin actually won the House Cup that year. Gryffindor came last.” He added, teasingly.

Big Red booed and Ricky imitated EJ’s best look of superiority.

“Obviously because I wasn’t around yet.” He replied.

“That sounds likely,” scoffed Kourtney from where she was sitting behind Nini, busy with fixing her hair. “But this year you may actually win us the House Cup after all. Flitwick is probably going to award you like, a million points for making the Frog Choir suddenly look like the coolest club ever.”

“Unbelievable,” EJ rolled his eyes. “You Gryffindors and your shameless luck.”

Dating Ricky for over four months hadn’t tamed EJ’s hatred for the typical Gryffindor habit of stealing the spotlight at the last moment after a whole year of barely scraping by.

“I wonder how you’re going to cope, EJ,” Nini snickered. “In a month you’ll leave your Head Boy badge behind. What are you going to do when you won’t be able to take points from Ricky anymore?”

“Oh,” Carlos intervened, a malicious glint in his eyes. “I’m sure he’ll find something else to take from Ricky.”

A roaring laughter exploded around the group, and Ricky closed his eyes and wished that the Giant Squid would resurface again, wrap a tentacle around his body and drag him down to the bottom of the lake.

“I didn’t get it,” said Ellie confused, looking up at her brother. EJ’s face had turned a singular shade of plum-purple.

“Pens!” He hissed, shooting a murderous glare to a delighted Carlos. “He’s talking about muggle pens!”

Ashlyn wiped a tear from her eye and glanced at her watch.

“It’s seven thirty,” she said, smiling apologetically at her cousin. “Time to get back, Ellie.”

It wasn’t easy, convincing her to return to the castle: Ashlyn, Big Red, Seb and Carlos had all volunteered to escort her back to Miss Jenn’s office, but she couldn’t stand the idea of leaving already. After a good ten minutes though, she finally detached herself from EJ who, Ricky made a mental note to tell him later, for the first time in history had been close to tears more times than Ricky himself.

“I’ll see you soon,” EJ promised, fixing the bows at the end of her braids, all crooked to the side. “Be good for Gran when you see her, okay?”

Ellie nodded, then turned to Ricky and hugged him, too.

“Thank you!” She sobbed. “I had the best, best day ever, and I’m so happy you’re with EJ! Can you come see us this summer?”

Ricky hugged her back, her scrawny frame easily enveloped between his arms. Her pure, energetic affection made him feel like his heart had just grown a size bigger.

“Sure I can,” he promised, receiving an excited grin in return. Then Ellie stole one last cuddle from EJ, grabbed Ashlyn’s hand and let the group of their friends lead her through the park, towards the castle that in a mere three months would become her home too. Ricky let out a breath: the thought of summer loomed like a nefarious omen over the sunny days that separated them from the train ride back home. He wanted to enjoy this freedom as much as he could, but he couldn’t help thinking that when he’d be coming back in September, EJ wouldn’t be with him. He was so used to eating with him every day, hanging with him in the library or in the Room of Requirement, sneaking around to make out in the corridors between classes; he couldn’t even remember what life was like before EJ, let alone imagine how he would cope with his absence next term.

Ricky felt EJ’s hand gently stroke the side of his cheek and was abruptly brought back to reality: he noticed that everyone had left, and EJ and him were left alone, sitting on the grass by the lake. The sun had almost reached the horizon, and its rays tinged the surface of the water in a warm orange color.

“Hey, what is it?” EJ asked, the cheerfulness of the day giving in to a worried frown.

“Mh?” Ricky didn’t want to talk about next year just yet. This was one of the last good days they would have before EJ would become completely engrossed by his N.E.W.T.s, and he didn’t want to spoil the spirit.

“You have that face.” EJ retorted; then again, he had a highly perceptive boyfriend who seemed to be perfectly tuned to Ricky’s moods, and captured every variation in their frequency “Did… did your mum write back?” He tried.

“No.” Ricky scoffed. They’d had that conversation less than a week earlier, too.  “I guess even the magical post takes a while, from the other side of the world.” He added coldly; EJ’s worried frown deepened, and Ricky wished to smooth down the wrinkles in his forehead with his thumb.

“You know, if you want…” started EJ, tentatively.

“But I don’t.” Ricky interrupted, looking him straight into his eyes. “We already talked about this. We only have this summer before I come back here and I’m not going to waste a minute of it.”

“She’s your mum, Ricky…” EJ said, conflicted. Ricky shook his head: he knew EJ felt guilty that he had to implicitly choose between spending the summer with him in England or accepting his mother’s invite.

“Yeah, and she made a choice.” He said, firm in his decision. “I made mine. I’m not going to Chicago; I’m staying here with you. And I’ve promised Ellie I’d come visit, haven’t I?”

He smiled, and for once he didn’t feel anxious or second-guessing at the thought of his mother’s disappointment: he looked at the grin tugging on EJ’s lips and let the other boy drag him forward, so that Ricky laid with his back against EJ’s chest, nestled between his leg. EJ’s arms wrapped around his torso and a kiss was smacked somewhere between his ear and his hairline.

“You know I would come with you if you change your mind,” he whispered; the warm security of his arms melted all the tension from Ricky’s shoulders and he took a deep breath. “I’ve always wanted to see the Magical Congress of the USA. And Ellie could come too.”

“Maybe next summer,” he suggested; he didn’t know if it was just his imagination, but it seemed to Ricky that, at the mention of plans for a distant future, EJ’s heart had started beating faster against his back. He didn’t want to dwell on that now, though. “We could go to Disneyland. Ellie would love that for sure.”

“What’s that now?” EJ’s lips brushed against his temple, over the shell of his ear and down the line of his jaw. Ricky’s breath trembled and he bent his neck to the side, to give him better access.

“A - an amusement park” he explained, distracted by EJ’s gentle kisses “A muggle thing.”

Ricky didn’t bother explaining anything more: he brushed his nose against EJ’s and kissed him slowly and lazily, contentment spreading in his body. Being with EJ had taught him that happiness could have many forms, but most of them included his green eyes, a secluded spot somewhere around the castle, and the unwavering sense of security that Ricky felt when they were together.

“EJ,” he spoke softly, when they stopped to catch their breath.

“Yeah?”

“There’s something I’ve been working on that I wanted to show you. Wanna see?” Ricky asked, his heart already beating faster at the thought of what he was about to do.

The sun started to set, and its last rays made EJ’s eyes shine an impossible shade of green when he looked up at him with curiosity.

“Another charms project?” He guessed, as Ricky extracted his wand from his pocket. “Didn’t Miss Jenn already give you an O for your muggle camera phone?”

“It’s not that,” Ricky smiled and settled more comfortably between his arms. “Just… it will be easier if you don’t let go.”

EJ’s arms clasped more tightly around him and his lips brushed against his ear again.

“Never.” He whispered.

Ricky closed his eyes, extending his wand in front of them. He didn’t even need to recall a particular memory, because EJ’s presence was enough of a confirmation to his happiness.

“Expecto Patronum.”

EJ’s sharp intake of breath accompanied the silver gleam that erupted from his wand: both of them followed the small figure of Ricky’s hedgehog patronus as it soared through the air, circling them in merry jumps, before vanishing in a shining haze.

“Ricky…” EJ’s words caught in his throat as he looked at Ricky, his voice shaking.

“I know,” Ricky’s smile was soft. “It’s a little ridiculous.”

He didn’t know what he was referring to - his patronus, or maybe the fact that EJ wasn’t just his happy memory. He was his happy everything.

“What?” EJ looked affronted on behalf of his hedgehog “Are you kidding? It’s perfect. It’s you.”

Ricky laughed, feeling slightly dizzy, and let EJ cup the back of his neck again and bring him forward for another kiss. Behind his half-closed eyelids, he saw the last sliver of sunlight disappear behind the mountains in the distance.

That was the part Ricky liked the most: when they’d pull away from a kiss, slightly breathless and smiling against each other’s lips. He stared into EJ’s eyes and let the knowledge settle into his bones - that he was loved, that he could trust him, that whatever life was going to throw at him, they could face it together. Ricky let his fingers slide in EJ’s and kissed him again, basking in the light of the afterglow.

THE END