Chapter Text
“Morning Casey,” Lizzie sleepily said one morning a couple days before students were due to leave on the Hogwarts Express for London. There was a rather jolly atmosphere at breakfast. Exams were wrapping up and professors had relaxed their expectations on course work - well most, except for sour faced Professor Vaulker. But Casey had already completed the four pages due on potions used for remedies, so she was just about ready to embrace the festive season in all its magical glory.
The ancient magic of Hogwarts always seemed to magnify when pristine, fluffy white snow fell and landed in piles around the premises, when the castle ghosts merrily sang Christmas tunes from centuries past, and when the house elves transformed the Great Hall with tall Christmas trees and festive decorations on the every house table.
Casey never minded having to stay during the holidays. Most of the Canadian students did, unless they arranged their international portkey months in advance - magical border security always tended to be a pain, especially so during the holidays - so there was plenty of company still when most students went home.
“Hi Lizzie, sleep well?” Casey chirpily said as her sister sat down beside her on the bench. Lizzie nodded, reaching for a goblet of orange juice. Unlike her older sister, Lizzie did not appreciate mornings.
“My brain is fried,” Lizzie yawned. “I’ve been studying non-stop for my Transfiguration final. It’s today.”
“Home stretch,” Casey sympathetically replied. “It’s your last one, right? Then you can have a well deserved rest.”
“Ughhf,” Lizzie munched on a piece of toast. “Quidditch practice tonight. Derek is making us do suicides to prep for the match against Gryffindor after break.”
Casey rolled her eyes. In her opinion, Quidditch could wait until after Christmas. She didn’t understand the appeal of people flying around on broomsticks chasing a small golden ball around. As if reading her mind, the Slytherin team’s captain decided to sit down beside her and ruin her morning.
“Morning Spacey!” Derek cheerfully - too cheerfully - said, helping himself to the untouched home fries left on her plate. He shoved them into his mouth.
“Hey! I was going to eat that,” Casey huffed. She wasn’t.
“No you weren’t,” Derek breezily replied. “Every morning you put the same things on your plate - a handful of fruit, yogurt, a bit of toast, and the fries which you barely ever touch. Can’t be letting good food go to waste, it’ll insult the house elves.”
Damn it, Casey thought. Since when did he pay attention to her eating habits?
“Hey by the way, what are you doing this -”
“No,” Casey sharply interjected. “Absolutely not. I am not going to Hogsmeade with you.”
Lizzie deeply sighed. For Merlin’s sake, it was barely eight am. Why was he starting this up already? Derek’s latest way of annoying Casey was to ask her out to Hogsmeade whenever one of the weekends were scheduled. He was hopelessly, head over heels crazy about her sister - and she was too freakin’ dense to notice. Lizzie would bet galleons that even he didn’t realize it.
Merlin they were so exasperating.
“You wound me, McDonald,” Derek dramatically grabbed at his chest.
“You wish,” Casey retorted, standing up and flouncing away from the table. She passed by Edwin, barely pausing to wish him a good morning before she had gone.
“What’s her problem?” Edwin grumpily asked, grabbing a pot of coffee. Lizzie gave him a pointed look, nodding towards Derek who had turned to speak to one of their housemates. “Say no more,” Edwin shook his head. “I can’t deal with Dasey problems before coffee.”
“I need to stop coming to breakfast early,” Lizzie grumbled. She made a mental note to try and avoid the common room later. Something gave her the feeling the day would get much worse before it ended.
+
Depending on Professor Bulstrode’s mood, it was either the best day or the worst when the sorting hat placed both Derek and Casey into Slytherin. They were, without doubt, destined to be some of the best students to have belonged to their ancient and noble house in a long time. Both were gifted, and bright, and always striving to be best; which unfortunately resulted in them competing against each other, forgetting they were earning the same house points.
Professor Bulstrode had been pleased when their competitiveness resulted in a Slytherin house cup victory. But now -
“Venturi! McDonald! In my office! Now!” Professor Bulstrode shouted loudly, drawing all eyes present in the Slytherin common room. She was covered in a sticky green substance, owl feathers stuck to her robes and pointy hat. The pragmatic Slytherins hid their smirks, busying themselves while keeping a watchful eye on the show.
“Nice going Venturi,” someone said from a table by the fireplace as Derek confidently stood up from where he had been lounging on a sofa. Casey glowered, angrily stomping behind him as they followed their head of house out of the room.
“For Merlin’s sake Derek,” Casey furiously whispered as they entered the office. “If I get detention because of you I will make you wish you never stepped foot in this castle.”
Derek rolled his eyes. “Re-lax, SpaceCase, I’ve got the perfect explanation.”
“Then by all means, do explain, Mr Venturi,” Professor Bulstrode interjected, standing cross armed behind her desk. She had always reminded Casey of a bullfrog. It took a lot of effort to not laugh at the fact she especially looked like one covered in the green sticky substance and the ridiculous feathers. It was like a bullfrog chicken combination, Casey thought to herself.
“I had nothing to do with this, Professor!” Casey said, borderline hysterical. “It’s all Derek’s fault!” He mouthed along with her, straightening up when their head of house turned to narrow her beady eyes on him.
“For once, it has nothing to do with me,” Derek countered, holding up three fingers to form a W. “Wizards honor!”
“Am I really to believe that a mistletoe exploding upon not kissing someone, placed in the hall outside of my office had nothing to do with your antics?” Professor Bulstrode asked, pulling feathers off of her face.
“Uh yes, Professor,” Derek replied. “Don’t you think I’d take credit for that? And no offense, Professor, but why would I involve Spacey in that when there’s plenty of hot Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws staying for the holidays I could cozy up with? Or why would it be placed in front of your office? Wouldn’t I want to place it in a more public spot like the Great Hall? The dungeon doesn’t exactly get a lot of foot traffic.”
“That.. actually is really logical,” Casey said annoyed. “He’s telling the truth, I can spot a bullsh- lie when he says one, Professor.”
Professor Bulstrode blinked, taken aback. She glanced between them several times before sighing. “Very well then, Mr Venturi. I believe you. Apparently I thought, well never mind what I thought. You’re free to go.”
Casey did not have to be told a second time. She darted out of the door faster than Derek could say accio; he rushed after her, his agility from Quidditch enabling him to catch up with easy strides. He could hear muttering under her breath, “unbelievable” and “twat” and a slew of other, impressive expletives in rapid succession. For some reason she had gone the opposite direction of their common room, perhaps hoping to put some distance between them.
“Case,” he tapped her arm. She stopped near the top of the dungeon steps, the light of the entrance hall glowing above them. It formed a halo like light around her, making her blue eyes sparkle and the subtle highlights interwoven in her long brunette locks shimmer. The emerald of her school sweater caught his eye too; of course Casey, ever the keener, would willingly wear a part of her uniform during the weekend.
“What,” she tiredly asked, yanking her arm away from his touch like it scorched through the thick wool material.
“Why are you mad?” He asked, shuffling on the stone step and sticking his hands in his robe pockets.
“I’m not mad,” she automatically replied. “Just irritated that once again I’m lumped together with you when something happens around here!”
“Well to be fair, it’s a safe bet most times,” Derek said, smirking when Casey huffed and turned to go. “That doesn’t normally get your knickers in a twist.”
Casey paused mid-step, whirling around and stomping a couple steps down to be at his level. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Derek’s smirk grew bigger. “No way you’re in a bad mood because Bulstrode accused us of a prank together.”
“Then tell me, step-brother dear, why am I in a bad mood?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Derek leaned in, just a smidge. “You’re jealous of what I said. But that can be solved quite easily, Case. Hogsmeade is later today -”
Casey’s eyes were unreadable as she processed what he implied. “Jerk,” she poked him on the chest. He’d never tell her, but it would definitely leave a bruise. Not to mention it made his stomach dip and flip (and made something else switch up...) whenever she touched him. Even if it was in anger. Especially when it was in anger.
Derek opened his mouth to make a retort, when something blurred on the peripheral of his vision. His eyes tracked the movement, noticing a second later something very green suspended in air above them. Casey turned her head, tilting it up.
Mistletoe.
“HAHAHA, Derry and Casey sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” The unmistakable, manic laughter of Peeves rang out from near the ceiling. “TIS THE SEASON, FA LA LA HA HA HA!”
Casey groaned. “This can not be happening right now.”
Derek chuckled. “Well now we know the culprit!”
“Der-ek!” Casey drew her wand, pointing it at Peeves. “Get rid of this Peeves! Or I swear to Merlin I’ll turn you into pixie dust!”
Derek shook his head. It was never a good idea to antagonize the poltergeist.
“KISS! KISS! OR PREPARE FOR SLIME!” Peeves laughed, smacking his lips.
“I would rather kiss the giant squid,” Casey hissed in defiance.
“Well, looks like you’ll just have to settle for me,” Derek said, casting an uneasy eye towards Peeves, who was hovering far too close to them for his liking.
Before she could react, warm lips brushed teasingly against her own, drawing out a slow, lazy kiss. It disappointed Casey in a way that the rumors of Derek’s kissing skills were very much true. There had always been a part of her that hoped they were exaggerations, for it they were, it would mean she wasn’t missing out.
But now she knew.
Casey forgot to resist the urge to wrap her arms around him, leaning into the kiss the way her body demanded it. His hands found her waist, drawing her impossibly closer. The hysterical laughter of Peeves faded away as the poltergeist slunk off to bother someone else, the previous targets unaware, so wrapped up in each as they were. Eventually common sense took hold again, the realization that anyone could discover them. Rumors would be around the school before Casey could utter accio.
Casey pushed Derek away, both breathing heavily as they stared at each other.
“Still want to kiss the squid instead?” He asked, flashing a cocky smile.
His words seemed to have the same effect as ice water as Casey straightened up, taking a step away from his hold. Her voice, to her credit, did not waver when she finally found words to speak. “This is the fault of Peeves,” she said. “It never happened, and certainly won’t happen again. Okay?”
“Whatever you say, Spacey,” Derek mockingly saluted. “Are you sure about not wanting to go to Hogsmeade? Madam Puddifoot is having a Christmas special….”
“No,” Casey replied, turning up the steps, probably to the library to hide for a bit. “Thanks for the invite though,” she added as an afterthought, the first time in recent memory she actually thanked him for something.
Derek watched her take off for the third time that day, disappointment and thrill coursing through his veins. He needed to channel the adrenaline, asap. He turned back down towards the dungeons to change into his quidditch gear early. A long, very long, cold, flying session was in order before he did something dumb like chase after Casey again and snog her senseless in the library.
Maybe he would get lucky and run into her in the prefects bathroom later. Someone had been placing mistletoe in there, after all...