Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You’re staring again,” Madison singsonged, dropping onto the bench beside him. Wilhelm glared but didn’t bother denying it. It would be a losing battle. Everything was a losing battle when it came to Maddy. 

“You’re not supposed to be sitting here,” he said instead, forcing himself to look back at his plate and not the unfairly attractive distraction sitting over at the Gryffindor table.

Maddy snorted, almost shoving him off of the bench in order to make room for Felice, “Who’s gonna stop me? August?”

“ Yes .” Wilhelm stressed, glancing over at where his cousin- Slytherin prefect, Head Boy, and the most annoying person on earth- was scolding a third year Ravenclaw who’d dared step within ten feet of his precious Slytherin table. August wasn’t necessarily against house unity- except for the fact that he totally, entirely was. He took any member of his house being friends with someone who wasn’t a Slytherin as a personal affront. Maddy choosing to elbow herself into a place at the Hufflepuff table with Wilhelm and Felice would surely invoke August’s ire, even though the fact that Wilhelm was the son of the Minister of Magic, as well as August’s cousin, usually bought him and his friends a rather unfair bit of leeway.

“I’d like to see him try.” Maddy snorted again, tossing one of her braids over her shoulder imperiously. She’d braided a green silk ribbon into her hair- every inch a proud Slytherin, entirely suited to her house- and Wilhelm privately thought it looked very nice on her. Not that he’d ever tell her that. Maddy was vain as a peacock, he didn’t need to inflate her ego any further, it was already insufferably large as it was. “I’m always happy to argue with August. Besides, I’m a prefect now. He can’t fucking do anything to me.”

It was Wilhelm’s turn to snort. “I still can’t believe anyone in their right mind made you prefect.”

Maddy gasped. “Ex cuse you, I am an amazing prefect!”

“Babes, you know I love you,” Felice spoke up from Maddy’s other side, “but the only thing you’ve ever done as prefect is give your house points they don’t deserve-”

“-Malcolm sitting down at lunch was deserving of ten points! It meant he didn’t fall asleep in History of Magic-”

“-and get yourself out of detention.” Felice finished, bumping her friend’s shoulder companionably to show that her teasing, while true, came from a place of love. 

Maddy huffed. “Whatever. I still maintain I’m better than August.”

“Oh definitely.” Wilhelm agreed, shoveling another spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth. A second later he sighed, looking down at the food now staining his bright yellow tie. It was the only clean one he had left. Or rather, it used to be the only clean one he had left. Now it was yet another victim of his inability to eat tidily whenever his mother wasn’t actively glaring daggers at him.

A bright peal of laughter from the Gryffindor table caught his attention, and he looked up to see the aforementioned distraction looking windswept (how?) and throwing his head back as his beautiful, ringing laugh filled the great hall and Wilhelm’s entire heart. 

“Ugh,” Someone shoved his shoulder and the next thing he knew he lost his balance and went crashing to the floor in the great hall.

“Maddy!” Felice protested, as Wilhelm groaned.

“What? I didn’t mean to push him off the bench, he just has, like, no centre of gravity.” 

“What was that for?” Wilhelm demanded, peeling himself off the floor and ignoring the looks everyone was throwing his way. As the disgraced youngest son of the Burnadotte family, he was used to the stares by now. Of course, it didn’t help that his mother was the Minister of Magic, he was a quantifiable disaster at potions, and due to an unfortunate mishap involving a lot of alcohol and Wilhelm’s third year queer panic the entire school now knew he was definitely not straight.

“Your stupid crush is driving me insane!” Maddy groused, hauling him back to his seat and dusting him off briskly. She shoved what Wilhelm assumed to be an apology toast slathered with jam into his hand, “Just fucking talk to him.”

“We’ve been over this,” Wilhelm glared, but accepted the toast. Maddy was a complete weirdo but her heart was in the right place. He knew she was only acting like this because she was worried about him- which was ridiculous. His stupid crush on Simon Eriksson was fine . Magnificent even, so long as it remained firmly confined to his daydreams and the other boy never, ever found out. “I’ll enjoy my crush in private thanks.”

Felice and Maddy snickered. Wilhelm sighed, “That came out wrong, but you know what I mean.”

“I really wish you’d try Wille,” Felice said reproachfully, her golden badger barrettes- a family heirloom- glittering in her hair, “Simon is super nice-”

“I know ,” Wille moaned, “that’s the whole problem! I try to talk to him then he looks at me with those huge sparkling eyes, and his sweet smile and the way he says my name -”

“-oh good lord.”

“-and it’s like my brain entirely melts .”

“Believe me,” Maddy snickered, “we know .” As usual she was enjoying Wilhelm’s embarrassment far too much.

Wilhelm groaned again. “Why must you both keep bringing this up? Let me be queer and maudlin in peace.”

“Never.” Felice and Maddy agreed in unison. Wilhelm sighed and risked another glance at the Gryffindor table, which was a mistake , because the second he looked at Simon he found Simon looking back at him , causing him to squeak and immediately knock over his juice glass. 

Felice just sighed as cold pumpkin juice doused her half eaten eggs and bacon. Maddy eyed the mess with poorly hidden disgust before lazily vanishing it with a flick of her wand. 

The two girls shared a look.

“What?” 

“Nothing.” Felice chirped a little too brightly, as she started to fix herself a new plate. Unfortunately, breakfast related mishaps were commonplace in the great hall.

“Seriously, what?” Wilhelm insisted.

Felice sighed. She gestured towards the now cleaned plate, “Nothing, just another Simon Side Effect.”

Wilhelm huffed and turned his head away in an effort to hide his glowing cheeks. Unfortunately, he had made a fool of himself in front of Simon Eriksson- actually no, not just in front of Simon but whenever he accidentally made eye contact or even just thought about him - enough times that Felice and Maddy had started calling whatever chaos he inevitably caused ‘Simon Side Effects’. 

The worst part was that they were right . The problems were- for lack of a better word- side effects, entirely caused because of Simon and his riotous curls and glowing smile.

Still, they didn’t need to say it.

“C’mon,” Felice grinned, pulling him to his feet, “we’ve got double DADA this morning and I don’t want to be late.”

They left Maddy behind, happily munching on a piece of toast, her eyes lighting in excited anticipation as she watched August marching towards her, frown firmly fixed in place.

“Seriously though Wille,” Felice started as they walked out of the great hall, the sound of August’s annoyed complaints and Maddy’s cheeky retorts fading behind them, “it’s been two whole years. You’ve been obsessed with Simon ever since you first figured out you were into guys. Everyone knows he’s gay. Just ask him out. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“He could hear me.”

Felice huffed in annoyance and shook her head as they walked into the DADA classroom.

Since both of them liked to be early to class, they were some of the first to arrive, aside from one other girl. The fifth year Hufflepuffs had their OWL level DADA class with the Gryffindors, so while the Hufflepuffs trickled in alone or in small groups, the Gryffindors arrived all at once in a loud, chattering flurry of limbs and exuberance. Wilhelm was tired just watching them- then again, he was in the house known for being ‘chill’ whereas Griffindors were generally regarded to have ‘larger than life’ personalities.

“You’re biting your quill.” Felice pointed out, as Wilhelm scanned the crowd of Griffindors. Simon was in this class. He spotted him near the back of the group next to his Griffindor friend Rosh, and one of Wilhelm’s own dormmates- who happened to be Simon’s best friend- Ayub. Those three were a near inseparable trio, not unlike how Wilhelm himself was with Maddy and Felice. 

At Felice’s observation Wilhelm pulled the quill out of his mouth absentmindedly, eyes not shifting an iota from where Simon and Rosh appeared to be involved in a spirited debate with Ayub. Since Wilhelm often spent a frankly pathetic amount of time watching Simon from across the room he felt reasonably confident the three of them were arguing over whether Hufflepuff was better than Gryffindor (which it obviously was, even though to Wilhelm’s knowledge, Ayub had, as of yet, failed to convince either Rosh or Simon of that indisputable fact.)

He continued to observe Simon as the class slowly filled with other students, cataloging each of the boy’s tightly coiled curls, his sharp jawline, his angelic laugh. Really, it wasn’t Wilhelm’s fault he was crushing so hard- Simon was unfairly good looking.

“Good morning class,” Professor Englund strode into the class, as sour-faced and jowly as usual. An accomplished former auror, Wilhelm knew Englund had only taken the teaching position because he wanted the pension that came with it, since his disability coverage from the ministry wasn’t much and he was barred from active duty. Not that he was a bad teacher exactly- he just wasn’t great with kids, or really, people in general.

The Griffindors and a few Hufflepuff stragglers scrambled to their seats as Englund glared.

“Right,” the professor said, “so, my shipment of stunner simulators has been delayed because of those idiots at the cross country post service, so I had to switch the lesson plan around.”

He heaved a small, rattling, antique grandfather clock onto the desk and Wilhelm’s breath caught.

“Today, we’ll be practicing facing a boggart.”

A ripple of unease passed through the students.

“B-but sir,” Felice squeaked, “we already did boggarts in third year.”

They had. Wille remembered because it was one of the most traumatic experiences of his life- which was saying something.

“Very astute observation Miss Ehrencrona,” Professor Englund sneered, “however, as sixth year student you’re likely now quite a bit more mature than you were when you just turned thirteen, and it’s almost a surefire thing that your fears have matured with you. Chances are your greatest fear now is not the same as it was in third year.”

Felice gulped, and the mood in the room sank almost as far as Wilhelm’s stomach did. 

More mature. Different fears.

Fuck . Fuckity fuck fuck fuck .

When he was thirteen, Wilhelm’s biggest fear had been disappointing his mother. He’d faced a boggart version of her, sneering down at him, reminding him of how much of a disgrace he was and threatening to disown him. Compared to the other kids, who’s fears had been spiders, banshees, or some other horrifying creature, Wilhelm’s biggest nightmare had been boring, forgettable even.

Now. Well, now Wilhelm had a bigger fear, one his thirteen year old self had never realized was even a possibility- and Wilhelm sure as hell didn’t want his classmates- or anyone really- to know.

“Wilhelm?”

“Huh?” Wilhelm blinked, jolted back to the present.

Mr Englund’s lips pressed into a thin line and his nostrils flared. “I asked if you remember the spell used to vanquish boggarts?”

“Oh,” Wilhelm licked his lips nervously, glancing around the classroom. Simon’s cheeks were slightly flushed (was he feeling ok? Maybe he should have the matron check him for a fever) and he was looking right at him. Wilhelm resisted the urge to hide his face behind his hands, and instead forced himself to focus on his professor, “yeah, um, ridickulus wasn’t it? But laughter is the only thing that really kills them…”

“Correct,” Mr Englund grumbled unhappily. “In order to vanquish a boggart you must force it to change shape into something you find amusing, using the incantation ridickulus. Now,” he snapped his fingers, “clear as space in the middle of the room and get into a line. You’ll each be facing the boggart today individually.”

Wilhelm exchanged nervous glances with Felice as they levitated the desks to the edges of the classroom. They weren’t the only ones who were nervous- Annalise Costen, a rosy cheeked Hufflepuff girl, seemed on the verge of tears, Ayub was abnormally pale, and Rosh’s hands were trembling. Simon’s face was carefully blank and Wilhelm wondered what he was hiding under that unbothered facade.

When Mr Englund once again directed them to form a line, the Griffindors, eager to prove their bravery, all jostled their way to the front, despite their apprehension. All of them that is, except Simon, who slipped into line just in front of Wilhelm, making him the second last person to face the boggart.

Wilhelm offered him a tiny smile- the best he could do, as not even Simon’s cute face could distract him from his impending doom. Simon returned the smile tightly, but even Wilhelm could tell his mind wasn’t all there when he did it.

Fuck Mr Englund. Like seriously, fuck him for making them do this.

“Mr Englund,” Orren Somerville, a Griffindor, spoke up just before the professor released the boggart, “you do realize what you’re doing is illegal right?”

A wildfire of murmurs passed through the assembled students and Mr Englund’s face purpled, “ What are you talking about Mx Somerville?”

“According to the Statute of The Control and Containment of Dark Creatures, and the Magical Creatures in Education Act, boggarts used for teaching purposes must be kept in a confused state by being surrounded by potential targets in a ring, not given a direct target. Educators found to not be adhering to said safety precautions could receive a 1000 galleon fine and up to six months in Azkaban.”

“ Thank you for reminding me of that Mx Somerville,” Mr Englund grit out, and Orren grinned. Wille and Felice exchanged gleeful looks. Orren was an absolute whiz when it came to law- either muggle or magical- and they were also one of the only people who would dare to mouth off to Mr Englund. Still, Wilhelm’s brief hopes that Englund would end up canceling the lesson due to his impromptu law lesson were dashed when Englund simply barked at them to form a circle instead. 

They fanned out, Simon and his friends on Wille’s left, Felice a usual supportive pillar at his right. 

“Everyone take a moment to think of your greatest fear,” Englund told them, his eyes glittering with dark excitement, and the mood in the class quickly dampened even further. 

Wille didn’t want to think about this. He knew what his greatest fear was, he knew - unfortunately it wasn’t the sort of thing that could ever be funny.

Felice and Simon both seemed to be having similar thoughts. Simon’s face was back to that spaced out, perfectly blank look, and Felice was biting her lip so hard Wilhelm was sure it would soon start to bleed.

“Everyone ready?” Englund shouted, long before anyone could possibly be ready, “Yes? Ok, ready, set, go!”

He opened the clock.

Black smoke poured out, creeping across the floor towards Annalise, and a huge, black, centipede-like creature crawled out of the clock, straight towards her.

Wilhelm gagged. 

Annalise’s eyes widened, and she stumbled back a few steps, face deathly white.

“What the hell is that?” Wilhelm heard Simon murmur.

“An arxic,” Felice breathed, “flesh eating centipedes native to the northern part of the province. Notoriously fast and hard to kill.”

“R-“ Annalise squeaked, and for a second Wilhelm didn’t think she was going to be able to do it. Then her jaw tightened and she said more firmly, “ridickulus.”

Suddenly the centipede turned bright pink and it’s hundred little legs turned into flimsy pieces of glittery tinsel. Annalise giggled and the boggart shrieked in rage, before getting ahold of itself and finding its next target.

As Wilhelm watched the giant pink bug disappeared with a ‘pop!’ and in its place was…a house? A rather cute house, with faded whitewashed walls and a green door.

Wilhelm exchanged a confused look with Felice. Who’s greatest fear was a house?

Then the wailing began.

“Help!” Another pained scream, “I’m in here! Please, someone help!”

The voice was familiar in a vague way- Wilhelm knew the voice, but couldn’t immediately recognize it, twisted as it was by pain and fear- but the effect on Ayub was immediate. His face went white and he stumbled forward, before Rosh caught his wrist in a bruising grip.

“It’s not me.”

Ayub looked at her, wild eyed and frantic.

“It’s fake Ayub, it’s a boggart, I’m right here, I’m ok.”

“A b-boggart,” he repeated stupidly, “right.”

“Hey,” Rosh patted his cheek as gently as she could- which was still harder than Wilhelm thought necessary- “Ayub look at me. I’m fine, ok? I’m fine, its not- it isn't real. It’s just a boggart. You need to vanquish it.”

Ayub stared back at her with wide, tearful eyes, his lower lip trembling, and all the while the pained wailing from the boggart continued on. 

“You’re like my sister Rosh, how,” Ayub swallowed harshly, “how am I supposed to make this funny ?”

Rosh’s face crumpled.

Beside him, Wilhelm saw something in Felice snap and she stepped in front of Ayub, causing the boggart’s wailing to cut off mid scream. 

Instead, Felice was suddenly faced with a different version of herself.

It was a little disconcerting, Wilhelm thought, seeing what essentially amounted to two Felices standing in front of each other, although unsurprising. Felice had told him and Maddy this before, had confessed it after a few too many shots of firewhisky. Felice was a maudlin drunk.

The boggart Felice was a few years older than the real one, but unmistakably the same girl. A head girl badge was pinned to her uniform, her hair was straightened into a glossy curtain that fell to her waist. In her hand was an acceptance letter to the wizengamot. 

Her eyes were completely dead.

Wilhelm knew this was because Felice would be absolutely miserable in the wizengamot, if she was head girl, if she followed the path her overbearing parents had so carefully laid out for her. Knew Felice’s biggest fear wasn’t disappointing her parents, it was being too afraid to stand up for herself and getting stuck too deeply in a life she hated that she’d never be able to escape unless it was at the end of a wand or the bottom of a bottle.

A tear ran down boggart Felice’s cheek as she checked her reflection in a small compact mirror and forced a trembling smile. Her eyes were still dead.

Real Felice’s jaw tightened, and Wilhelm saw the moment something in her decided. A grin tugged as his lips as she raised her wand and said quite firmly, “riddickulus!”

Boggart Felice’s makeup suddenly switched from tasteful eyeshadow and gloss to a cartoonish clowns face and she screamed, scrubbing at her face with the sleeve of her robes. Real Felice let out a pleased giggle and Wilhelm grinned, so happy to see his best friend happy that he didn’t notice at first that the boggart had chosen Simon as its next target.

Wilhelm only noticed when Simon bumped into him as he flinched back from a man with greying hair and the same sloped nose as Simon, who was muttering slurred obscenities under his breath and advancing on him menacingly, a bottle of some sort of muggle liquor Wilhelm didn’t know in his hand.

Simon was clearly terrified, face white and eyes wide as he scuttled away from the boggart man in single minded terror, wand and class and school forgotten as he gazed into the drunken face of his greatest nightmare. 

In a distant corner of his mind Wilhelm wondered who the man was, but that thought quickly vanished from his mind because for some reason, in some stupid, idiotic, misguided attempt at heroism, because he liked Simon to the point of being an idiot and definitely at the expense of his own self preservation, he stepped in front of the shorter boy and turned the boggart’s attention on him. 

Suddenly, Erik was in front of him, reaching forward and crumpling to his knees, a strangled, ‘Wille’ falling from his lips before he slumped, unmoving on the ground, blood pouring from a wound on his temple, and the world was ending, it was ending .

“Erik!” The strangled cry tore from Wille’s lips as he fell to his knees beside his brother, his brother who wasn’t moving, wasn’t breathing .

Dimly, in a far, distant corner of his mind that was not operating very well at the moment Wille knew that this was a boggart, that it wasn’t real. But it looked real. It felt real.

It was too much like before, like that awful day, those awful weeks, those awful months . Too much like the floo call from his mother, interrupting school- she never interrupted school-, too much like hearing about the auror raid gone wrong, like rushing to St Mungo's white faced and terrified, hurrying to see his brother broken and bruised and then broken no longer but asleep for ages and ages and ages , to the point where Wille had started to wonder, had begun to think maybe Erik wouldn’t wake up. Maybe he was lost.

Except this was worse, this was so much worse because Erik was dead , Wilhelm could tell, was bloody and not breathing and dead and Wilhelm couldn’t lose Erik, his big brother, the only person who knew, who understood , who cared -

“Erik!” Wille wasn’t sure if he was sobbing or screaming or both at this point, all he knew was Erik’s body was cold and unmoving in front of him no matter how much he shook it, and Erik was gone , “Erik! Wake up, please . Erik! Erik !”

“Wille,” Felice’s voice was soft in his ear, “it’s just a boggart. Erik is fine.”

Wille looked up at her, eyes wide and shattered, and Mr Englund took advantage of Wilhelm’s momentary distraction to force the boggart back into the clock, Erik’s ‘corpse’ disappearing with a faint ‘pop’.

The silence was deafening.

Wilhelm’s ears were ringing and his eyes were burning, mind stuck on that image, that horrible vision of Erik, of his big brother, cold and unmoving on the floor.

A throat cleared. “Please return to your seats,” Mr. Englund’s voice intoned. Wilhelm walked woodenly to his desk and all but collapsed into his seat.

Erik, smiling and laughing. Erik, bloodied and bruised in a hospital bed. Erik small and pale, asleep for the third month in a row. Erik, dead on the ground- 

“-Mr. Burnadotte.”

“Hm?” Wille blinked and the classroom swam back into view, chairs squeaking as everyone packed their bags. 

“I said,” Mr Englund repeated from where he was standing in front of WIlhelm’s desk, “you’re to go to the nurse Mr Burnadotte. I think you should be checked over.”

What? No, that wasn’t right. He didn’t need to see a nurse, he needed to see Erik.

“No…no I-”

“That wasn’t a suggestion Mr Burnadotte. Madame Eldwin is already expecting you, and Miss Ehrencrona has been kind enough to agree to escort you.”

Realizing it was pointless to argue, Wilhelm offered him a halfhearted nod and slung his bag over his shoulder, walking over to where Felice was waiting by the door, a gentle smile on her face that did a poor job of hiding her concern.

“Hey,” she said softly once they were in the hallway and away from Mr Englund’s unnerving fish eyed stare, “are you alright?”

“Fine.” Wilhelm didn’t mean to be so terse but he didn’t want to talk about it. He marched towards the hospital wing, Felice struggling to keep up, but he found he didn’t care. The sooner he got to the nurses office the sooner he’d be able to leave the nurses office and go call Erik- and he needed to call Erik, needed to make sure he was alright.

“Wilhelm-”

“I’m fine Felice, let's just get this over with.” She pursed her lips, but didn’t argue. Instead she simply quicked her strides to match his pace, staying her usual supportive self even after he just snapped at her.

He immediately felt bad, and not just because he’d be sure to whether a scolding later from Maddy. 

“Sorry,” he sighed, “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just-”

“It’s okay,” Felice’s gaze was warm and compassionate, “You’re worried about your brother. I get it.”

Wille had to bite hard on his cheek to suppress a sob. Felice seemed to realize he was in a fragile state, taking him by the hand and leading him the rest of the way to the hospital wing.

Waiting for Madame Eldwin was agony. She’d directed him and Felice to sit on one of the cots when he’d first walked in, but had been greatly preoccupied with treating a trio of third year boys who’d attempted to use engorgio on an appendage they definitely should not have.

It would have been funny, if Wille wasn’t still so stressed out. As it was, each minute that passed had him bouncing his leg a bit faster and gnawing on his lip a bit harder. Felice did her best to distract him but most of her attempts fell on deaf ears.

Finally, after nearly twenty minutes of listening to pained yelps and the matron’s harsh scoldings, three red faced boys scurried out from behind the curtain and the matron made her way over to Wille.

His checkup didn’t take long, the matron checking his vitals before pronouncing him fine, albeit shaken up. She gave him a calming draught to take with dinner, and sent him on his way, promising her door was always open if he ever needed to talk. Wilhelm thanked her, and rushed out, Felice on his heels.

Felice hovered until he promised her three times he was fine, and yes he would take his potion, and yes he’d see her and Maddy for dinner but right now he really just wanted to go and have a nap, so if she wouldn’t mind giving him some space…?

She finally left, casting a final concerned look over her shoulder as she did, and Wille let out a sigh of relief. The second she rounded the corner out of sight, Wille was running.

He tore down the halls, threw himself up stairs, and nearly tripped over his own feet as he stumbled his way through the passage to the common room. He had to get to his dorm, the dorm had a fireplace, and floo powder, he could call Erik, make sure he was okay-

He burst into the dorm- and stopped short. Ayub was there, lounging on his bunk across the room from Wilhelm’s, Simon and Rosh- how she managed to get up to the boys dormitory Wilhelm had no idea- piled on the fluffy golden bedspread beside him. 

“Um…” Wille was quite used to being around Ayub, being roommates for five years would do that to a person, but seeing as he usually wasn’t in the dormitory much during the day he’d never realized that Ayub’s friends (read: Simon) had ever been in here before. His gaze darted to his bed where Penga, his worn stuffed penguin sat proudly on his pillow, and his pajama pants with muggle superhero logos were crumpled at the foot, and he cursed himself. If he knew Simon regularly spent time in their dorm he’d have made sure they were out of sight,  “hi.”

“Hey man,” Ayub nodded, his usual chilled out self. Normally, Wilhelm found it comforting to have a roommate who was so zen, when he himself was such a total and complete stressed out basket case, and today was no exception, “Sorry, I didn’t know you were planning to come up here. We can clear out if you wanna take a nap.”

 What?

“A nap?”

“You look like you could use one.” Ayub’s gaze was sympathetic, “y’know because of-”

SImon elbowed him in the side and Ayub shut up.

“Oh, no I-” Wille stuttered, “I just need to use the floo.”

“We’ll be quiet then,” Rosh promised, “or we can leave if you want.”

“No!” He’d feel awful if they had to find a new spot to hang out because of him and his stupid neurotic tendencies, “no its fine I’ll just…” he awkwardly scooted over to the fireplace where they kept the box of floo powder, infinitely glad he’d be able to see Erik soon and-

The box was empty

It was empty .

Wille could cry.

This couldn’t be happening. He needed to check on Erik, it was the whole reason he had floo powder in the first place so he could make sure he was safe-

He could feel himself shaking, his mouth drying out, the uncomfortable beginnings of a panic attack tugging at his consciousness, causing his chest to constrict and his vision to tunnel. His desolation must have shown on his face, because he found himself surrounded by three pairs of worried eyes, one of which belonged to the object of his affections, whom he very much wished he could impress.

“Hey,” Simon’ face was beautiful as ever, even as it twisted with concern, “Wilhelm. Are you okay?”

“The floo- there’s no more powder. I need to call my brother- I need-”

“Here,” Simon soothed, shifting through his bag and pulling out a small bag of glittery silver power, “it’s okay. You can use some of mine alright?”

Warm hands guided him towards the fireplace, Rosh and Ayub still hovering nearby as Simon threw a pinch of the powder into the fireplace and roaring green flames took over. Wille wasted no time, falling to his knees and throwing his head into the fire without even managing a thank you.

“Deputy head aurors office, room 653, ministry of magic!”

The familiar swirl of different houses passed quickly, and soon WIlle was staring into the familiar square of his brother’s office.

“Erik?”

His brother jumped nearly a foot- really he could get worryingly hyperfocused for someone whose job it was to be on constant high alert- his face lighting up when he saw his little brother’s head in the fire.

“Wille!”

“Are you ok?” Wille rushed out.

Erik blinked. “What? Yes, I’m fine, I’m not even on call today. What brought this on?”

Suddenly, Wille felt ridiculous. He was two months away from turning sixteen and he had fallen completely to pieces because of a boggart of all things.

“I- we did boggarts in defense and I just wanted to make sure- after your accident-” he cut himself off, glad his brother wouldn’t be able to see his blush through the floo.

“Oh Wille,” Erik breathed, “you thought- what did you see?”

Wille swallowed. 

“You,” he admitted, “dying. Dead . I couldn’t-couldn’t help, couldn’t do anything .”

“Oh Wille ,” Erik said again, looking pained, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is though. I knew what I was getting into when I became an auror, and I knew what I was risking, but I never thought about how it might affect you. And last year, the accident…I guess I never made sure you were okay after.”

“Never made sure I was alright? Erik, you were in a coma for three months! You nearly died!”

“I know. And what would’ve happened to you if I had?”

That’s the question isn’t it? The one that haunts him. The one that makes losing Erik his greatest fear. What would he do without his older brother? How would he even survive? What would happen to him?”

“Mama and papa-”

“-wouldn’t treat you any better than they do now. In fact, they’d probably try and force you to follow in my footsteps. No,” Erik shook his head, “this was a grave oversight on my part. I can’t trust them to look after you, I should’ve put a contingency plan in place ages ago.”

He started rummaging around in his desk, pulling out a sheaf of parchment and a quill triumphantly. “I’ll start working on that this afternoon actually. I’ve got a meeting late today with the department, and a training session this Friday, but I’ll see if I can carve some time out next week to visit-”

“Really?” WIlhelm tried not to sound too eager. It had been ages since he’d seen Erik in person, and even longer since he’d seen him without their overbearing mother skulking around.

Erik laughed. “Yes really. I’ll take some time off, stay in Hogsmeade for a week or two. You and I will talk-” the ‘I’ll make sure I think you're alright’ went unsaid but Wille heard it anyway- “you can show me where you like to study, maybe even point out that boy you never shut up about-”

“Erik! Håll käften!” WIlhelm hissed, reverting back to the Swedish their father had taught them as children, hyperaware that Simon and his friends were still in the room behind him. He hoped none of them understood the language and hadn’t overheard what Erik was saying. It was unlikely on both counts- the floo provided a decent amount of muffling, and since Hogwarts was an english boarding school, Wilhelm didn’t know of any other students with swedish descent, let alone ones who spoke the language, but he also wasn’t about to take any chances.

“What?” Erik asked teasingly, following his brother's lead and switching into Swedish, “You’ve never been shy talking about him before. What’s his name again? Sim-”

“Erik! Shut your face ok? He’s on the bed behind me right now.”

Eriks eyebrows flew so high they practically disappeared into his hairline. 

Wille immediately realized exactly how that sounded, and promptly choked on his own spit.

“I-I didn’t mean- not like that!” He protested while Erik roared with laughter.

“He’s friends with my roommate,” Wille hurried to explain, “they’re hanging out! He and I haven’t- were not- I still haven’t even properly spoken to him!”

“That's nothing to brag about little brother,” Erik snickered, finally getting himself under control, “If he’s in your room and he’s friends with your roommate then I fully expect to hear all about how you’ve talked and become best friends when I visit ok? But for now I need to go or my boss will be on my ass . Alright?”

“Alright.” Wille agreed. Now that he had seen with his own eyes that Erik was ok and had calmed down, he was ready to face the rest of his day. Besides, if all went well it wouldn’t be too long until he saw Erik in person.

“I’m fine, you're fine, everything’s fine, ok Wille? I'll see you soon.”

“Ok.”

“Love you brorsan.”

“Love you too.” Wille mumbled, and pulled his head out of the fireplace.

He brushed a bit of ash from his hair, humming absentmindedly, and caught Rosh’s eye from where she, Ayub, and Simon were playing exploding snap and pretending they weren’t spying on him.

He immediately stopped humming.

“Are you feeling better then?” Simon broke the silence, and Wille flushed redder than a tomato.

“Yes. Thank you again for the floo powder, I don’t know what I would’ve done without it.”

“It’s no problem,” Simon smiled at him, and WIlhelm tried very hard not to visibly swoon, Erik’s teasing still fresh in his mind, “I’ve got tons. Perks of having an overprotective mama.”

Wille laughed. “Erik’s the same way! I never usually run out.”

“You wouldn’t have today if someone ,” Ayub glared across the room at their third roommate, Dirk’s, bunk, “didn’t use up all of it calling his beauxbatons girlfriend in the middle of the night.”

He and Wilhelm shared a long suffering look. Dirk was a decent guy but a horrid roommate. Luckily, as far as Wilhelm knew Dirk wasn’t planning to return to Hogwarts to do his NEWTS, so he’d be leaving after the year, thank Merlin.

“Alright well,” Wilhelm said, when the silence grew from comfortable to awkward, “I guess I’ll see you guys later.”

“Bye Wille,” Simon smiled blindingly and Wille walked right into the doorframe.

He sighed. Ayub failed to hide a snicker.

Another Simon Side Effect.