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Seven Years in Hogwarts
Year 6: Coming of age
April 17th, the clock ticked closer to one a.m. Bruce sighed and leaned back in the couch.
In a just under ten minutes, he would be seventeen, and he was not eager to reach his majority. His late father had enchanted Gotham Manor to open the gates again on that day, and whatever magic the old house held, it would immediately lash onto him. The Wayne Heir did not expect a pleasant night, therefore had decided to hide in the Room of Requirement. According to Alfred, he would be entirely defenseless for an hour, if not more, depending on how long the wards of Gotham took to integrate his magic. The last thing he wanted was to advertising the shift in his power, especially to his classmates.
Many knew he would turn seventeen tonight. None realized how much this birthday might change his life.
The door cracked opened and a familiar silhouette entered. He didn’t turn around to face the newcomer. There was only one person who could ever find the entrance of the Room of Requirement while he was inside it, even if he demanded complete isolation.
“Hey,” Diana said. “Couldn’t sleep?”
He glanced back at her. She was dressed casually, in comfortable denims and a red sweater. Her hair was free, for once, loose over her shoulders. It changed her appearance, made her look more mature, more…striking. Any other time, he would have found himself tongue-tied. Tonight, his head was so messed up he couldn’t find the strength to care. He would have to remember to give her the compliment she deserved, once this was over.
“You would know,” he replied instead, touching the soulmark on his elbow. Her matching one would transmit his emotions to her. “You didn’t need to come.”
Diana stepped closer, took a seat next to him. She stared at the clock in turn, then back at his face and tired eyes. Bruce wondered what appearance he gave, if he looked as terrible as he felt.
“I wanted to be here,” she protested softly. “The coming of age is an important stage, especially for you.” As the only heir of your family, Bruce thought she wanted to say. “You won’t make me believe you wanted to be alone when it happened.”
She didn’t speak of the fear he felt, the tiredness of having to shoulder first the Wayne Foresight, and now his family wards. His magic was built to endure it, and his guardians had prepared him for that day. Still, Bruce resented the responsibility imposed upon him. He wished he had someone who had gone through the same ordeal to talk with. He wished his father was still alive, or Alfred was there to give him reassurance.
As if hearing his thoughts, Diana put her hand over his. Her thumb stroked his wrist in soothing motions. Her warmth wrapped his mind in a comfortable cocoon. She always knew how to soothe him. In those moments, he regretted not telling her the truth earlier. Perhaps he would have made better decisions in the past, had she been by his side.
“I understand, more than you might think,” she whispered.
And there, Bruce was reminded that Diana also carried the weight of her father’s legacy. Hippolyta Prince had certainly done her best to keep her lineage a secret. And if Bruce had anything to say about it, no-one would ever know.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she chided, and he realized she must have sensed his concern. “My aunts and uncles still have no idea of my existence, and-“
There was nothing to see yet but a grey mist. The scene grew sharper and people began to appear. A circle of ten, surrounding one leader. A Threat. A very angry Threat, growling like a chained beast. Red eyes narrowed in pure loathing. The earth trembled in response, making the kneeling shadows shiver in fear.
‘Where is it?’ He growled. ‘Where is the Heir?’
‘The Heir cannot be found,’ the closest subordinate said. ‘We could trace him to this timeline, but not find him yet.’ He paused and went on: ‘The magic is too ancient and volatile-‘
‘Pathetic excuses!’
The subordinate winced harder. The Threat paced angrily across the room. Nothing much was visible, aside that they were clearly underground. Torches burned, barely lightening the place, perhaps on purpose. The dust made by the Threat’s pacing slowly twirled in the air. He suddenly paused and when he drew a breath, the followers visibly flinched.
‘We need the Heir’ he finally spoke. ‘He is the key to unlock the ancient powers. We have little time left to find him-‘
He paused again and turned around, as if sensing an unseen presence. The corners of his lips twisted into a horrid, cruel smirk.
‘If we cannot find him…’ the Threat started. ‘Then we will have to draw him out.’
Bruce…
‘But how?’ another man asked. He visibly flinched when the Threat turned his attention on him.
‘The old fool’s last spell must have taken time to shape,’ he growled. ‘Find his research, his notes! His pride would demand he left something behind! Use any means to figure out what he had in mind.’
Bruce!
‘The Heir will be looking too,’ the Threat added with a sinister smile. ‘If he is anything like his ancestor, he will keep looking-‘
“Bruce!”
He gasped as he opened his eyes. His throat felt so tight he could hardly breathe. His body was drenched with sweat. His clothes felt too tight. Thankfully, the lights in the Room had dimmed, fitting his sight. His other senses were slower to return, shortcut by panic and the lack of coordination that happened after a vision. After a moment, he realized he was lying flat on his back, and Diana straddling his waist. Her hands had pinned his forearms down, careful not to have skin contact. Bruce barely paid attention to their position, still caught into the moment he had just foreseen.
“They are looking,” he breathed. “Someone –someone is in danger, someone –something with –there’s time travelled involved and –an old power-“
“Bruce,” Diana spoke strongly. “You have to breathe.”
“But-“he started. “I need to remember –it’s important –I have to-“
“Look at me,” she ordered so firmly he had to listen. Her dark eyes stared back at him, wide and determined and so very soul anchoring. The pulse in his neck slowed and he found himself relaxing. “Are you focused now?”
“Uh-hum.”
“Good. Now, tell me what you saw.”
Without breaking eye contact, Bruce told her everything. He described the place, the people, the leader that seemed to terrorize his followers enough to be called the Threat in their own minds, that person they were looking for, and an ancient power that needed to be unlocked.
“You said they spoke of time travelling?” she asked once he was done. “Do you have any idea when it could have happened?”
“I can’t even tell from where they are. They spoke in English, but there was no specific accent. They were draped in brown tunics, very common. Couldn’t even say if they were good quality or not. It was too dark.”
“They were all the same? Can you try to see anything? Any detail?”
Bruce briefly closing his eyes and tried to remember. When his migraine began, he gave up; forcing his memory never ended well.
“What happened while I was out?” he asked in turn. Diana grimaced.
“You fell,” she explained. “I barely had time to catch you before you hit the floor. You were unconscious for like, half an hour or so. And then you started…” she jerked her hand around. “You had spasms all over your body. And you started mumbling –I didn’t understand everything. You had visions before, but this was nothing like I’ve ever seen.” She sat back and threw her hands in the air. “I was about to call for Alfred as a last resort!”
The house-elf couldn’t have helped much, but it was thoughtful of her.
“You did the best thing,” he replied gently. “Thanks.” Then he realized they still hadn’t moved from their positions. “Perhaps we should go back on the couch?”
Diana blinked, remembered she was still straddling him, and jumped off him, beet red. Bruce stumbled slightly as he stood –his legs were still weak and he had yet recovered his balance, and gracelessly dropped on the cushions. Once again, she was immediately by his side, touching him with gentleness.
“Are you alright?” she asked. “You feel any different?”
Her question reminded him that he had just entered his seventeenth year of existence, and that the Gotham wards must have started their integration. Oddly, nothing seemed to have changed.
“Not really,” he muttered, closed his eyes, and mentally checked his magic. It was the same, still pulsing, flooding smoothly in his body like blood in his veins. His senses still felt sensitive, but that could be blamed on the vision. And then…he felt it.
“Bruce, you have something on your neck,” Diana spoke at the same time and reached right under his jaw. His skin was hot at that spot. He let Diana’s fingers follow the pattern. “It’s like a tattoo.” Her hand stopped at the edge of his collar. “It goes lower.”
A tattoo? The security wards of Gotham transformed into a tattoo? He couldn’t remember if his father had one. He lifted his hands, paused mid-air. His limbs were still trembling.
“Help me take it off,” he demanded, and softened his tone when she stiffened: “Please.”
Diana reluctantly pulled his sweater over his head, along with his shirt and undershirt. Now bare-chested, he shivered again. The Room wasn’t cold, but the excitement was getting to him.
“Turn around,” she ordered. Bruce reluctantly complied.
Fingers resumed their exploration, from his neck down to his shoulder and down his back. From the patterns she drew, Bruce could tell whatever mark that had appeared was simply shaped, although widely spread.
“It looks like the shadow of a bat,” Diana spoke. Her hands stopped over his scapula. His stomach did a funny flip, which he forcefully ignored. “Do you want to see?”
Of course he wanted to! The Room conjured a large mirror in response to his need. He managed to stand on his own and, legs still unstable, he glanced over his shoulder. Black lines departed from his neck, descending in a sideway traced ‘W’ around his spine. As Diana said, it truly looked like a shadow of a bat. How odd, since his family’s crest was a dog. He would have to access the Wayne library and do some research.
“It doesn’t look so bad,” he concluded, his lips stretching into a genuine smile. He then sought Diana’s eyes and added: “Thank you for being there.”
She smiled back. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, lighting up her face with a different glow and Bruce’s heart skipped a beat as he thought: damn, she is so beautiful.
And then Diana stepped closer, cupped his face with both hands and-
SYIH
Two days had passed since his birthday. Two days had passed since they’d actually spoken. Diana had not dared wander near the Slytherin’s customary areas after that night. What. Had. She. Done? she wondered for the umpteenth time, sitting at the Gryffindor table of the half-empty Great Hall. The three quarters of the students were watching the Quidditch match, allowing her to wallow in solitude.
“Did you and Wayne get into an argument or something?”
Next to her, Etta had actually skipped the game in attempt to make her talk. Her tie to the Prince of Slytherin was not well-known. Bruce had worked hard to avoid her for years, and while the discovery of their soulmark had changed that, they still didn’t advertise their relationship for obvious reasons. Soulmates were rare and, in some ways, dangerous. Aside from Napi, who had guessed about the soulmark far before she was told, only Etta knew she and Bruce had developed a friendship of some sort. And Diana herself had just messed up that friendship by kissing him.
She groaned and hid her face in her hands, wishing she could turn back in time. He had scared her, with that vision and his behavior, very unlike him. And then the skin contact –she felt fear, excitement, sadness, anxiety warring within him, and also how much more focused he seemed when she touched him…and then she was hit by the lust.
She hadn’t dreamed it. She knew he had grown feelings for her, or at least, wasn’t indifferent to her. He sometimes had that expression in his eyes when he thought she wasn’t looking, the same she had seen in other boys or girls who had asked her out. And of course, the soulmark also let some feelings through. Diana liked him well enough, but hadn’t considered actually dating him. He was her soulmate; not, in spite of their closeness, her boyfriend.
But after last night, when he had stood bare chested, admiring the Wayne brand tattooed on his back…
He might be fitter than a Quidditch player, she had thought, and wondered how it would be to have his arms around her and his mouth on hers. The kiss had been an impulse. And the expression he wore after –confused and embarrassed –she had to leave and rush back to her dormitory, red faced and cursing herself.
“Earth to Diana?”
Etta was still waving her hand in front of her face.
“Are you alright dearie?”
Diana whimpered.
“I did something stupid, Etta,” she muttered. “Something very stupid.”
The other girl frowned in confusion.
“You? Do something stupid? I find that prosperous.”
“I’m serious,” she went on, her voice muffled by her sleeve. “I can’t show my face to him again.”
The other Gryffindor girl huffed and crossed her arms.
“Diana Prince, if you start lamenting like a lovesick teenager, I will be severely disappointed in you.”
Diana glared at her.
“I am not lovesick nor am I lamenting,” she protested.
“Looks like that to me.” Etta cut dryly. “So, what on earth happened between you and Wayne? I assume whatever whining stage you’re going through is related to that snake!”
She felt her ears burn harder. Thankfully, before she could reply, two other students approached their table. After recognizing them, Diana reconsidered her luck. Perhaps hiding with an inquisitive Etta would be less embarrassing than facing Mera Xebel and Lois Lane, two of Bruce’s closest friends. The newcomers sat across them on the Gryffindor table. Lane leaned in first and spoke quietly:
“Bruce is acting more closed off than ever, and you’re the only one who can draw such a reaction from him. Since you are clearly avoiding him, we somehow deduced Bruce didn’t act like a gentleman. Tell us everything, and we will give him proper retribution.”
Diana could only stare in astonishment. Bruce, hurt her? How could his own friends believe that?
“He knows better than to hide things from us,” Xebel inputted. “So for him to actually keep his mouth shut means something meaningful happened, and he is in the wrong. We’re worried, Prince. Help us here.”
Diana prayed very hard that the earth would swallow her at once and end her misery. For once, Bruce was –almost –blameless. And others were coming to her for an explanation? She thought he would have just spoken about their moment, and let them be. Didn’t he usually tell them everything? But for Lois Lane, who would never forsake her spot as the Quidditch commentator, to actually skip one game to find answers…How exactly has Bruce been acting?
“It’s none of your business,” she said eventually. If her soulmate wouldn’t mention the incident, then neither would she. “Please leave me alone.”
Xebel narrowed her eyes and was about to speak when they were interrupted by another student. This time, Diana didn’t need to look up to recognize him. The tingling of her elbow was giveaway enough.
“What are you doing here?” he growled.
The anger in his tone surprised Diana, who looked up eventually. Bruce did not look well. His skin seemed paler, his eyes tired and flashing in annoyance at his two friends, not at her. He hadn’t come alone. Behind him, Arthur Curry shrugged unapologetically. It seemed he had been the one to inform the Slytherin that the girls wanted a heart-to-heart with her.
Lois crossed her arms and glared at him.
“You won’t talk. We came inquiring to the next best person who’d know what’s going on in your head.”
“Whatever’s going on between Prince and I is between Prince and I,” he shot back before redirecting his gaze on her. His cheeks grew pink as he spoke next: “Can I have a word?”
Merlin yes, she thought, and nearly ran off the bench to follow. No matter if he was the source of her embarrassment, she felt safer leaving by his side. Inquisitive stares followed them as they walked out, but she ignored them all.
They didn’t go to the Room of Requirement for privacy. Instead, in silent agreement, they headed outside the walls of Hogwarts, far from any wandering students, closer to the Forbidden Forest. They went past the first few trees, stopped at what could be considered the edge of a dangerous zone. And then, fell silent. For a few moments, none of them spoke. The tension was thick and oppressing, as neither had anticipated this sudden confrontation.
“Well, that was awkward,” Diana spoke first, mostly in attempt to break the silence. Bruce glanced at her before averting her eyes, clearly embarrassed.
“I’m sorry about that,” he mumbled. “They mean well, but they should mind their own business.”
“Overprotective much?” she teased before remembering what had triggered this situation and looking away. She cleared her throat instead and asked: “So, did your new tattoo-“
“I don’t want to talk about my new tattoo, Diana,” he suddenly interrupted her. Another quick glance, another shift of weight on his feet, and he inhaled deeply before admitting: “I like you.” Even though he couldn’t face her, she felt his sincerity through their tie. “I like you a lot, actually.” He paused again. His hands joined in the back. Eyes stared at the ground. “What about you?”
Blunt and to the point. Typical him, whenever he felt uncomfortable. Diana couldn’t help but smile fondly.
“I thought I made my feelings on the matter clear the other day.”
Bruce rolled his eyes. The simple sign of annoyance was enough to alleviate the tension.
“I wasn’t sure whether your action was a consequence of what I was thinking, of if you kissed me from your own free will,” he admitted. He rubbed his elbow, added quietly: “Sometimes this thing is very inconvenient. Makes me overthink too much.”
Diana suddenly felt encouraged by his lack of confidence. She reached for his joined hands, untangled them and took them between her own. The way he looked at her made her feel even bolder.
“Shall I repeat my action then, so there are no misunderstandings?” she teased him as his fingers clenched around hers in return.
“Can I ask you a favor first?” She raised an eyebrow. Bruce cleared his throat and went on quickly: “Could you untie your hair?”
The request sounded odd, but then she rarely let them down outside of the Gryffindor common room. Come to think of it, his birthday night had been the first time she had sneaked out without tying them up. She remembered how his pupils had blown wide upon seeing her, how he had looked enthralled but too upset to do anything about it. She remembered thinking that she wouldn’t mind if he kept looking at her like that.
And so, Diana released her grip, reached for the elastic band holding her hair in a high ponytail and let it loose over her shoulders. Her breath hitched when she noticed his reaction –far more obvious in the daylight –her heart beat harder and-
And this time, he was the one to lean forward, cup her cheek, and kiss her breath away.