Work Text:
This is it.
Hunter Deamonne is finally enrolled in Hexside, School of Magic and Demonics.
Somehow, when he was discussing his plans with his newfound family, his friends, and, hell, even Alador Blight –the man surprisingly pleasant to talk to as they tinkered with one of those children practice wands in order to design something more potent to work as an aid for him due to his lack of any other magic that isn’t Flapjack’s borrowed teleportation–, he had… well, he had pictured his acceptance as something glorious, half accidentally and half purposefully creating a scenario in which he received all the praise for whatever he came up with later, too busy daydreaming with his mind filled by the adults’ anecdotes about what each of them had done to impress principal Faust and get accepted, and then to Luz’s own anecdote about how, on the contrary, hers went in all the wrong ways and still Bump had let her enroll. That last one, admittedly, didn’t contribute much to his grandiose reveries, but he suspected Luz had told him so he wouldn’t be nervous.
All in all, Hunter was ashamed to realize he had pictured something akin to his ceremony to be appointed Golden Guard, only with way fewer sad faces and a lot more supportive pats on the back and head.
Now that he has the time to unpack where that desire comes from, he’s almost glad to be presented instead, upon entrance, with a series of papers detailing the courses that each magical track offers; despite the new understanding that the main Covens were established with foul purposes, changing the way the Isles are organized by them is too taxing of a task to be done in a day, and he supposes it’s sort of convenient to have a system. It’s merely a formality, Principal explains, as he can choose any combination of classes he desires, provided that he can make a schedule that won’t make him attend classes at midnight.
Studying with only Hexside’s spirits by your side gets depressing really fast, the man mutters in a low voice that Hunter is unsure if he was meant to hear or not.
In any case… the courses.
He had been so excited about finally getting to attend school like all of his friends, and the document that says he has been accepted as a student has already been signed and pocketed by Darius, who promised to make sure not even a small wrinkle would get on it, but he realizes now that he has no idea about where to begin.
He could do what Luz did, he supposes, and refuse to choose, simply pick everything until even the ghosts in the hallways grow sick of looking at him, but that feels rather like… something his friend would do –did do, after all–, not himself. And he has been doing better in the last couple of months when it comes to not overwhelming himself with work.
Going to school was one of the things he wanted the most in the world. And now he’s here. But what exactly does he want now?
He hears Principal Bump cough a little as he chews on his lip, eyeing the description of each course carefully but not really processing any of the information, his brain fuzzy and his heart guilty. He’s making everyone lose their time here and he can’t even bring himself to stop.
A hand lands on his head.
“Hunter,” Darius says softly. “Are you alright there, kid?”
Eber makes an inquisitive noise from where they’re perched on the back of Hunter’s chair, and Hunter swallows around the tight knot on his throat, taking shallow breaths to convince himself there’s enough air in his lungs. They have to have been able to tell he has been doing anything but what he’s supposed to do right now, right?
“I’m sorry, there’s just… so much,” He says lamely, immediately filling like an idiot. This is being presented to every student, isn’t it? And yet he’s the only one with trouble deciding. He grabs the papers on the table, clumsily gathering them all together and starting to pass one page to the other in a frantic motion that doesn’t allow him to actually read anything even if he had the focus to. “I’m about to though! Just… here! I’m picking this one.”
He slams one paper from the pile on Principal Bump’s desk, resisting the wince threatening to take over his face at the awkward silence afterward.
“Summoning specters?” Eberwolf doesn’t sound incredulous, just confused, but this time Hunter can’t keep himself from looking mortified, knowing what this might look like.
There are too many bodies left behind in his previous family history for this to not look alarming.
“Okay, maybe I’m not as sure of that one as I thought,” He rectifies quickly, starting to go through the papers again, trying to not look so obvious in his random pick of courses or to think too hard about how he’s practically damning himself to an entire semester of classes that he chose merely so the adults currently in the room would stop staring at him. “Maybe I’ll go with-“
“Little prince, do you need-?”
“I can give some advice if you-“
Bump clears his throat. Loudly. Hunter has only seen him acting in two different ways before this very moment; one suspicious and wary as he interrogated him, and the other confident and unwilling to back down as they all faced the scouts Adrian Graye had brought to the school. The image of the man standing before a class full of children and giving a lecture had not crossed his mind yet, but he’s suddenly reminded that Hieronymus Bump had been a teacher once.
It’s very evident by the way he manages to command silence to the room with just a sound and the motion of his hands raised in front of him, as if physically keeping them from saying another word.
“Perhaps you could wait a few minutes outside?” He suggests gently, looking at Darius and Eberwolf.
Darius looks predictably unsure.
“But Hunter-“
“-Will be perfectly alright on his own, won’t he?” Hunter startles slightly when Bump turns to look at him, but he nods quickly, knowing what is expected of him. Darius doesn’t look comforted.
“We can come back if you’re not ready. He has time to choose,” He directs the last part at the adult behind the desk, crossing his arms in an attempt to look intimidating that no longer works once one gets to know him better and, judging by Bump’s unimpressed face, he knows him plenty.
“He does,” The principal agrees easily. “But you can hardly expect him to make a sound choice with his parents hovering right over his shoulder, can you?”
Darius flushes, his face darkening with embarrassment as he sputters an incoherent answer. It’s not that he doesn’t like being called Hunter’s parent, this much Hunter knows, he’s simply not used to it, and caught acting a little more paternal than he had realized, he fumbles with his hands, losing all the previous bravado.
“I… it’s not… I’m not trying to force him into anything, Bump.”
“I know, Darius,” Bump says softly, and Hunter has the impression that when he looks at Darius, he’s not completely seeing the former Coven Head nor one of the leaders of the rebellion, but simply the enthusiastic, mischievous child that he only ever gets to meet through stories and lovingly preserved pictures. “But a lot of my students have trouble not looking at their back to check if their choices are being approved or not. Surely you remember when you picked your track?”
Darius’ ears twitch, the color not receding from his face, but getting stronger instead and causing Eber to look at him like he has just won a prize. The Abomination Witch is in for some teasing later, no doubt.
“You were not principal back then,” He accuses, and Hunter is delighted to note that he sounds a little like a petulant child.
Bump must think the same because he laughs.
“And yet I could see clearly what was going through your head when you looked back at your mother,” The fond memory is only responded with a huff, and a thrilled chirp from Eberwolf, which seems to put the oldest of them all in a yet better mood. “Although, if I’m not mistaken, you said you were going to be on the Abominations track before she could even give her opinion on the matter, didn’t you? You always had a clear vision of what you wanted, Darius, and I can see you haven’t changed a bit from when you were a kid.”
Darius murmurs something that sounds suspiciously like ‘that’s absurd’, but Bump continues without hearing him. That or he ignores the quip, it’s hard to tell what exactly their relationship is like, but Hunter finds himself intrigued nonetheless.
“That can be intimidating for someone who perhaps would like to impress you,” He nods at Hunter with a twinkle in his eye.
Darius looks vaguely pained when he turns to look at him again.
“Hunter, you know you can choose whatever you want, right? I’m not expecting… I don’t…” The man sighs, evidently frustrated by his own inability to express his thoughts correctly. “Whatever makes you happy will be fine by me.”
“You’re a kid, not an abomination,” Eber adds in agreement.
Hunter isn’t sure what to say to that. He does want to make them proud of him, but is that really the reason why is he having so much trouble deciding? Is he just going through the motions of what he thinks someone else wants him to be like he used to back at the castle?
He doesn’t say anything, merely frowns. Before that can send the other two into a fit of despair, however, Bump hums, looking contemplative at the three of them before putting his palms together.
“On second thought, perhaps it would be better if you could bring those” He points to the pile of papers on the desk, “with you and take your time deciding at home. There’s still a few days before classes start, just remember to submit your choices before that.”
The relieved sight Darius lets out feels like it should have come from his own throat instead.
“We’ll do that,” His guardian says smoothly, letting Hunter gather the papers in his hands once again before clearing his throat in too much of a casual manner, as if he hadn’t been agitated at all moments before. “Thank you for your time.”
Bump chuckles. “It definitely beats the times you were here because Faust wanted to send you to detention, doesn’t it?”
Darius trips with an invisible obstacle on the floor, turning around to face the door as Eberwolf giggles.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Darius says, with the tone of someone who knows exactly what’s being talked about. “Perhaps you’re going senile.”
“Perhaps,” The older man sounds amused, not at all offended by the rude comment, which has to be, more than anything else, a testament to how different he is from other authority figures Hunter has met throughout his life. “But not enough to forget the important things.”
His eyes follow Eber as the demon jumps on Darius’ shoulder, a motion so natural that the other doesn’t even have to look, and yet his posture doesn’t shake at all, his body adjusting to the extra weight automatically. Hunter would have liked it if that had been enough to distract Bump, but his gaze regretfully goes to him as he gets up from the chair he was sitting in with a stiff posture.
“Take your time deciding,” He says with a warm tone of voice, not deterred at all by Hunter’s curt nod. “You’ll have a period to change your classes if they turn out to not be what you expected, but the faster you’re attending something you enjoy, the better.”
That makes sense, he supposes. He has heard about Willow having been in the Abominations Track before he met her, and how it was her talent that got her to switch tracks. She seems to be doing great at school nowadays, which is a soothing thought; even if he messes up here, it doesn’t seem like he has to stress too much about making up for lost time. Still, it would be nice to have a way to know if the options he’s contemplating are things he actually wants, or things he feels compelled to do.
The difference between those was non-existent when he was the Golden Guard, and there was no one around to help him realize that, but now… he stops dead in his tracks and spins around to face the principal again.
“Wait! Can I… ask you something?”
Bump smiles at him, and it’s a little strange how the look conveys more fondness than Hunter thought he would have for him, considering how their first encounter went.
“Of course.”
Darius and Eberwolf stop too, mere inches from the door, and Hunter looks at them while changing the weight of his body from one leg to the other.
“Actually… in private?” His voice cracks slightly, aware of the awkwardness of his last-minute request, but he’s making this all up as he goes, give him a break. It’s far from the first time that he sounds like this in front of those two anyway, and if they have any thoughts on his uncertainty, they don’t let it show. “I won’t take long, I promise.”
Darius is silent for a moment, but eventually he nods. “We’ll be waiting at the entrance.”
The man makes a valiant effort to get out of the room with the rest of his dignity intact, but Bump calls out before his body is completely out of the door.
“Please, say hello to your mother for me when you see her next. I’m sure she must be thrilled about having a grandchild,” the former Coven Head’s ears twitch once again before he makes a sort of strangled ‘mhm’ and leaves in a haste, the door closing behind him with a soft thump.
Hunter waits until he stops hearing the hurried steps retreating and then turns to look behind the desk again.
“So… you knew Darius when he was a kid?”
Bump’s face lights up.
“I did. Quite the mischievous one, your dad,” Hunter feels the warmth on his ears and he’s no doubt that he’s doing an unintentional confirmation that they’re family by getting flustered in the same way as the older witch, but this is one of the things he’s sure he’ll never be able to control, no matter what he does. “Gave his teachers a lot of headaches back in the day.”
Hunter mulls it over for a moment, before slowly taking a seat again.
“Can you tell me more about how he was back then?”
He doesn’t have to ask twice.
.
.
.
He ends up reuniting with Darius and Eber about half an hour later. They don’t let him apologize for his tardiness, and for that, Hunter is grateful; he does feel bad about keeping them waiting for so long when he promised he would be quick, but everything he was told has given him a lot to think about.
Back at home, neither one of the adults push the issue about the courses, talking instead about what they’re going to have for dinner and asking him if he wants to spend some time together or if he wants them to call him once everything is ready. They don’t take it personally when he says he would like some time to think, which is just as well, because an idea has started to formulate in his head and he doesn’t want them to think he’s planning something nefarious and stop him. He’s smart enough to know what he’s doing by now… although he decides to run the idea by Amity and Willow first. Out of all of his friends, he thinks they’ll be able to tell him if his plan is good or vaguely self-destructive.
As he waits for them to answer his texts, he grabs the pile of papers and throws himself on his bed, actually reading what each one says this time. A few ones catch his eye, and he hums quietly, grabbing a notebook and a pencil to write that down, but ultimately putting them back onto the pile, while separating other courses in a second small pile.
This might be more work than anyone would reasonably want to do, but Hunter is nothing if not careful when it comes to covering all his bases.
His scroll pings with a few messages, and after a brief round of questioning until the girls are satisfied with his answers, he gets his approval. A hesitant one, but approval nevertheless.
He smiles.
.
.
.
Hunter’s first day at school goes… not exactly like he was expecting it, but not like he was not expecting it.
Darius looks strangely teary-eyed when dropping him at the gate, although he denies it vehemently if anyone tries to bring that up, and has to be dragged away by Eberwolf, still frantically asking Hunter if he remembered to put his lunch on his backpack, if he has enough supplies to write in, if he remembered to charge his wand, and actually, Darius is just one call away if he needs him to, and-
Some students turn to look at the little spectacle and Hunter can’t blame them; it’s not every day that you see two former Coven Heads wrestling playfully while dropping off someone at school, he supposes, but this is hardly the most bizarre thing that has happened in his life, so it’s very easy to ignore the curious glances thrown his way. Besides, he likes when Darius is fussing over him.
But this is the actual moment of truth, and so he doesn’t lose time getting inside of the building once Darius and Eber are almost out of sight, and walks quickly to his first class of the day.
He’ll see the rest of his friends at lunch, so he’s not too worried about not seeing them right now –knowing Luz, she probably overslept–, but when he crosses the door of the classroom, a familiar face is waiting there.
“Hi, Hunter,” Amity waves him over and he wastes no time in sitting by her side and dropping his backpack beside his seat.
“Hi.”
Going by her smile, he thinks she’s pleased about having a friend with her, but soon she frowns, looking at him in doubt.
“Are you sure about this?”
“As sure as I can be. You thought it was a good idea,” He accuses her, though his tone is light.
“I know. I’m not trying to tell you what to do, I’m just… what if you get stuck here and have to regret it for the rest of the semester?”
“Bump said it was okay,” He shrugs, hoping that the casualness is enough to dispel her worries, but… well, it’s Amity. She’s too good at seeing right through him, just as much as he’s able to do that with her. “I think I need to do this. I need to make sure.”
The girl nods slowly, her eyes passing him by to look at the blackboard at the front of the classroom. Hunter knows she's not avoiding looking at him for any particular reason; they’re both simply better at gathering their thoughts when they don’t have to think about eyes drawing a hole into their soul.
“I just don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did,” She murmurs, not as much because she’s ashamed, although he knows she is, but because other students are starting to enter the room in waves and this is not the kind of conversation that pertains to others’ ears.
“… I appreciate that. Thank you, Amity,” He says sincerely and earns a soft smile in return, before putting a hand on her shoulder in an observed gesture of comfort, less sincerely.
The attempt is so awkward that she snorts.
“Don’t try so hard, either,” She says brightly. He knows her enough to know she’s teasing him.
“Oh, shut it.”
.
.
.
His first class as an official student at Hexside is… not boring exactly, but it’s a little less exciting than he thought it would be. The first fifteen minutes were actually spent talking about the incidents that had left the school unusable until very recently, and going by the way some of the students shuffle awkwardly on their seats, some of them there are feeling guiltier than others about the poor state Hexside was in when he and his friends arrived on the Isles.
He thinks that’s kind of fair. It looked like shit, they could stand to feel a little bad about it.
The next class he shares with Amity too, although there’s a big difference between him practicing basic abomination spells and her being able to make multiple ones in a row with no sweat, Hermonculus ooooh-ing and ahhh-ing at her. It’s kind of embarrassing, how bad he is at his, but he knew it wouldn’t be easy, exactly, and he’s grateful that he has a friend there, sneering at anyone who so much as tries to make fun of Hunter for the wand he’s using.
Granted, he barely cares about what they think about him, and he could easily let them look like idiots by showing them what his ‘flimsy little wand’ can do with all the modifications Alador Blight and he did, but it’s nice to have someone who has his back.
They reunite with the rest of their friends at lunch, where Gus and Luz get informed about his class schedule, and while they seem as uncertain as Amity did this morning, they don’t question him much when he explains his reasoning. The subject is quickly dropped anyway when a ball of strange-colored putty flies through the air, another new student deciding to make the first day of school more exciting by initiating a food fight in the cafeteria, apparently, and they have to scramble to cover themselves from the sudden pandemonium.
Overall the day is… exactly what he expected. And not at all at the same time.
“It went well,” is all that he says when Darius asks. The man makes a good attempt at appearing nonchalant at his answer, but Hunter can see the way his hair is bubbling and he knows he must be fizzing with curiosity and anxiety that perhaps Hunter had a horrible time and he just doesn’t want to tell him.
He feels a little bad knowing he’s not going to tell him, and that Darius cares too much about him being comfortable and feeling safe with him to pressure him to talk.
The next few days occur in a similar manner, with him not exactly bothered by the classes he’s taking, admittedly a little excited about the newfound understanding of Darius that he’s getting as a sort of side effect, but ultimately not vibrating of excitement or anything like that.
Now, the theater club is another thing altogether.
He has to wait until they put up the posters for students to join, and getting accepted into it is surprisingly easy. He supposes he shouldn’t be too surprised, half of his life was an act after all. Not that they need to know that, he’s content pretending that he’s always had a passion for acting through his childhood and whatnot when they ask.
It’s kind of fun, practicing random lines with others and improvising improbable little scenarios. But he’s not sure if he would like to be on a stage doing something like that for the whole school to see. He’s been enough in the public eye as it is.
Still, he continues attending classes with Amity and joining the Theater Club at the end of the day diligently for two weeks. He thinks he has an answer for the question he made himself while picking what courses he wanted, with Bump’s serious face searching for any trace of doubt on his face.
But in the end, it’s talking to Darius and Eber what ends up setting the record square.
“Darius?” He asks, peeking into the living room where the man is busy looking bored at the crystal ball on the table, Eberwolf making snarky comments at any program Darius tries to leave on before changing it to another.
“Hm?” Darius’ attention is instantly on him, and Hunter feels a rush on warm in his chest at the reminder of how much of a priority he is for the man.
“Do you think you could help me with my homework? I’m not sure I’m understanding this question right,” He wrinkles his nose, authentically annoyed at the weird phrasing on his homework sheet, but also pretending to ignore how fast Darius sits up straight on the couch.
The other has occasionally asked about what classes he picked ever since he went to discuss his options with Principal Bump, but Hunter has refused to tell him so far, and he knows both of his guardians have to think that he’s afraid they’re going to judge him for what he picked.
It’s not exactly a wrong assessment of the situation, but not in the way they think.
“Of course, little prince. What’s the subject?” Despite Hunter being the one to ask for help in the first place, the question sounds careful, wary of stepping over any boundaries.
“It’s theory in Abominations.”
He pretends not to see the look the other two exchange, and the sudden silence brought by Eberwolf turning off the crystal ball.
“I see,” Darius says slowly. “Come sit here.”
Hunter does, and he finds himself not surprised at all about how the other focuses on helping him with his homework despite how he sees his fingers fidgeting every few minutes before he remembers himself and stills them again. Darius is nervous, but he’s prioritizing aiding Hunter in what he requested before saying what really is going on in his mind.
Always putting him first.
Eberwolf doesn’t say much while the sheet gets slowly filled, aware that this is not his area of expertise, but he watches over them all the same, no doubt noticing both of their nervous tells.
Always there to make sure they don’t have to hide.
This is his family, and Hunter supposes it’s about time he came clean about what he’s doing before they start feeling bad about it. He trusts them, after all.
He puts his homework on the coffee table after they’re done, knowing a conversation is due, and waiting patiently through the few minutes it takes for his dad to find the right words.
“So, you chose some classes on Abominations?” Darius asks, the feign-casual tone too obvious to him.
Well, no sense in hiding it now, he’s already sure of what he wants to say too.
“Not some. All of them.”
Darius can’t hide his alarm this time.
“Why? I thought you were interested in other subjects too, is this-?”
“I also heard you were in the Theater club when you were at school, so I joined that too.”
The older witch opens and closes his mouth wordlessly, as if he were a fish that has been taken out of the water.
“Pup, are you trying to imitate Darius?” Eber asks gently, always there to pick up his brother’s slack.
“Yes,” Hunter says bluntly.
Darius makes a sound as if someone had squeezed him and taken all the air out of him and even Eberwolf doesn’t seem what to do with that. The chances that they understood what he’s getting at here are next to none.
“Hunter… oh, Hunter, you don’t… I don’t… I don’t need you to do what I did to care about you, I don’t want-“ He sounds like he’s having trouble communicating what he wants to say, but Hunter is pretty sure he knows what he means, anyway, and he’s not actually trying to make him feel bad about this, so he interrupts him.
“It sucked.”
There’s a long moment of silence.
Eber suddenly cackles and Darius lets out a disbelieving wheeze.
“What…? But you-“
“Seriously, how could you do that for years and not get tired of it? I feel like I heard the entirety of Hermonculus curriculum the first week,” He complains, letting himself fall into the couch with the secrets he had been keeping now out in the air. “I’m going to land myself in detention if I have to hear him babble about the proportions in which you have to mix the components for an ideal abomination one more time.”
Darius is looking at him like he’s grown a second head.
“I…” He hasn’t regained the capacity for speech then, it seems. The demon seems to come to the same conclusion as him, because they take the lead again.
“Why did you choose those classes if you didn’t like them, cub?”
“Well, I don’t hate them,” He says honestly. “But you were right, I was trying to imitate Darius.”
“I don’t want you to do that,” Darius looks at him with pleading eyes, finally finding something he wants to say.
Hunter beams.
“I know. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
“You weren’t doing it so he would be proud of you?”
“Nope,” He keeps the smile on his face, now they’re getting it.
“Then why…?”
“I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to pick the easy way out, doing what anyone would think you would want me to do,” He shrugs. “I suppose I could have done it any other way, but I think I needed to make sure, for myself.”
The adults are still eyeing him slightly warily, so he continues talking.
“Bump said I could try it out for a bit and if I didn’t like it, I could take different classes. I think I already know what I want now… oh, and I have to quit the Theater club,” He adds, more as a reminder to himself than anything else. “They’re nice, but we’re starting Flyer Derby season soon and I need the time to train with the Entrails.”
He hears Darius take a deep breath.
“So you’re not forcing yourself to do anything because you think that’s what I want from you?”
“No, but… I knew you were going to think that if I told you,” He admits. “I didn’t want to hurt you. Will you forgive me?”
The other sighs.
“There’s nothing I have to forgive you for, little prince, you did nothing wrong, just… next time, try to not give me a heart attack in the process though, will you?” Darius lets all the tension roll off his shoulders, his weight falling on the couch as he reaches out with an arm to pull Hunter toward him. He goes easily, relishing in the warm hug.
“Next time you could try to imitate me though; I’m not lame like Darius.”
“No one is imitating anyone here anymore,” Darius scolds, extending the abomination matter on his head to shove at Eber’s shoulder slightly.
The demon rolls his eyes.
“I’m just jesting.”
“Come up with better jokes.”
“I can’t, you have wounded me deeply. I have to focus all of my energy on recovering now.”
“I did not shove you that hard.”
“No, you did, look. I’m on the floor.”
Darius gapes as Eber gets up from the couch lazily and lets themselves fall on the floor without even attempting to make it look like the result of an external influence.
“Are you seriously expecting me to believe that?”
“I don’t need you to. Hunter’s on my side, right, pup?”
“No, he’s not,” Darius says before he can answer.
Hunter laughs as he watches them bicker. Seems like that course on Healing is going to come in handy after all, even if he only uses to play along with his family’s dramatics.