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Jean makes his way down the halls, stealthy and silent. He’s an expert by now, knows exactly what the prefects’ routes are and how to avoid them. Marco is the only prefect that could catch Jean– and that’s only because he knows where Jean’s headed. (“I can’t report you if I don’t see you,” is all the Hufflepuff prefect has to say, looking away uncomfortably like rookie liars do. Jean has a lot to teach him.)
He climbs up the Astronomy Tower, happier than he has been all day. It’s a pretty long staircase –the longest in Hogwarts, in fact– but when he finally reaches the top, he sees a little blond head, poking out from a heap of blankets, and he feels a ridiculous grin stretch across his face.
Quietly as possible, he hugs the blanket pile from behind. “Hi,” he says, warm and sappy.
Armin starts a little, but then chuckles and presses a kiss to Jean’s cheek. “Hi,” he replies, smiling like he can’t help himself either. Jean joins him under the blankets, which Armin has been kind enough to put heating charms on, and they rearrange themselves so Armin is sitting between Jean’s legs, his back to Jean’s chest and Jean’s arms wrapped around him in a loose embrace.
“Missed you,” Armin murmurs, leaning his head back Jean’s shoulder. “Potions wasn’t nearly as fun without my partner.” There’s concern and curiosity in his voice, but it’s light, not demanding. Jean has his secrets, and Armin knows how important they are to him. Armin respects Jean’s privacy, never pressures Jean into revealing anything he doesn’t want to; it’s one of the things Jean loves most about Armin.
“I was in the Hospital Wing,” Jean replies truthfully, reaching for Armin’s hand and lacing their fingers together. “Eren and I had a bit of a misunderstanding during lunch. I ended up with a dozen furry yellow tentacles wriggling on my face, and I didn’t want you to have to kiss them.”
Armin laughs, squeezing Jean’s hand. “I thought so,” he says, which of course he did, Ravenclaw that he is, “since Eren wasn’t in Charms. I trust you didn’t let him get away with turning you into a hairy yellow octopus?”
Ah, yes, Jean had managed to hold his own. “He was purple and had green warts filled with pus when I set the bats on him,” he tells Armin solemnly. “I think I would’ve won if Professor Smith hadn’t stepped in.”
“You know,” Armin begins lightly, staring out at the stars instead of looking at Jean, “you should probably stop picking fights with Eren.”
Jean makes a face. Armin seems to sense it, and turns around to face Jean properly, looking serious.
“We’re sixth-years, Jean. We’ve got NEWTs next year which are going to determine our future. You want to be an Auror, you’ve got to get Os and Es. Right now, you’re barely making As. Didn’t you just say you got a T in Transfiguration?”
“It was a P,” Jean mutters defensively.
Armin is relentless. “Does it matter? The Ministry of Magic’s not going to hire you if you get anything below an E in Transfig.”
Jean sighs. “You’re right,” he admits, because Armin is almost always right. “I… It’s time to grow up. No more fights with Eren, I promise. But if he attacks first, I’m going to defend myself!”
“Reasonable force, Jean,” Armin warns, then relaxes back into Jean’s chest. “Besides, just because you’re not fighting with him doesn’t mean you can’t comipete with him.”
Jean blinks, then sees what Armin’s getting at. “Oh yeah, he wants to be an Auror, too, right?” He remembers the idiot mouthing off about how he’s going to be the best Auror the Ministry has ever seen, though that was back in third year.
“Exactly,” Armin confirms. “So instead of beating him up, you should be beating his test results.”
Well. It kills two birds with one stone, really– he gets to beat Eren at something and pull up his grades before the NEWTs. It’s a good plan. Jean’s eyes slide over to Armin, and his lips quirk into a lopsided smile. Maybe he can kill three birds…
“Sounds good,” Jean says agreeably, which makes Armin beam like a tiny, radiant sun. “My results are pretty bad, though– I think I might need a tutor…” He trails off suggestively, moving to kiss Armin as his free hand slides under Armin’s shirt to feel the smooth, soft skin of his abdomen.
Armin isn’t having it. He pulls away from the kiss and firmly moves Jean’s hand away, then turns to Jean with an unimpressed expression. “If I tutor you, we’ll never get anything done,” he says sternly, which is a painful truth.
“Babe,” Jean whines, though he knows Armin won’t be swayed on this.
“No,” Armin says firmly. “I know you can do this if you just apply yourself. I saw your OWL results, they were amazing, don’t even try to tell me otherwise.”
They were amazing, because Jean thought the only way to attract a Ravenclaw’s attention was to get high marks. He’s convinced he was right, since he’s dating Armin now, and Armin still remembers Jean’s OWL results from a whole year ago.
“Okay, okay,” Jean concedes with a sigh. “You can’t blame me for trying. We don’t get to spend nearly as much time together as I wish we could.”
Armin grins, and kisses Jean, soft and sweet, gently sucking on Jean’s bottom lip before pulling away.
“Get your grades up, and we’ll see how much time we can make for each other,” he murmurs, voice low and soft and suggestive. The sound makes Jean shiver with anticipation, and before he knows what he’s doing he’s kissing Armin again, one hand on Armin’s jaw and the other squeezing Armin’s hand lightly, smoothing his thumb over Armin’s affectionately.
They kiss softly under the stars until the position becomes uncomfortable, then break apart to grin briefly at each other like lovestruck fools before Armin settles against Jean’s chest again with a happy sigh.
“You win,” Jean tells him fondly, wondering how Armin hasn’t already taken over the world, since he’s so good at talking people into doing what he wants.
“Yay,” Armin replies happily, like he doesn’t always win.
Jean narrows his eyes at him. “You’re going to use the same argument on Jaeger, aren’t you?” he asks, because he knows Armin.
“No,” says Armin innocently.
Jean thinks about it, then makes an indignant noise. “Don’t say you’re going to tutor him!” he complains, because it’s really too much for his boyfriend to leave Jean to his own devices, then turn around and help Jean’s arch nemesis.
“He needs my help more than you do,” Armin placates him soothingly.
“Babe,” Jean protests half-heartedly.
“You may be my boyfriend, but Eren is my best friend,” Armin reminds him. “You’re both important to me, and I want to see you both succeed.”
Jean shakes his head, a little irritated but mostly in awe. “How are you not in Slytherin?” he wonders out loud. “You’re a manipulative bastard.”
“I’m only as good as the company I keep,” Armin replies wryly. “Your Slytherin must have rubbed off on me. Don’t,” he adds as Jean opens his mouth to make a crude joke, and Jean closes his mouth with a soft click.
They don’t have to be anywhere early the next morning –it’s Saturday tomorrow, after all– so they just cuddle together under the blankets, and that alone makes Jean indescribably happy. Eventually, they shift positions so they can properly make out, and spend a long time doing just that, with no real intent to go any further. It’s warm and comfortable despite the winter chill around them, and it feels like home.
--
They fall asleep wrapped up together, and when they wake up, the sky is just beginning to brighten. They quickly make their way back to house, Jean more urgently than Armin because the Ravenclaw Head of House, Professor Hanji, is far more lenient than Slytherin’s Professor Smith.
Jean’s efforts are in vain; the moment he steps into the Slytherin common room, Smith is standing there with his arms crossed, one (impressively thick) eyebrow raised sternly. Somehow, even dressed in a nightgown, he’s an intimidating figure.
“And where have you been, Mr Kirschtein?” he asks dryly.
“Uh,” says Jean, caught in the act. “Stargazing?”
He gets two weeks’ detention.