Work Text:
Barty has no clue why he became a History of Magic professor at Hogwarts but it’s perhaps thinking back to those early years in school when he found himself struggling with the material. His father gave him flack for being good for nothing, which weighed Barty down enough to make him not care at all. Then he met Pandora in second year who tutored him with no malice, understanding how fidgety he got or why he could barely focus in class. He scored perfect grades after that. He and Pandora added to their study group over time, dragging Regulus, Evan, and Dorcas along. Once Barty got older, he wanted to be an actual professor to help kids like him understand they aren’t alone. He wanted to give them tools that could relieve that confusion he felt all those years ago.
Now, with teaching comes grading and giving detailed advice because he personally thinks it's shitty to grade something and not provide any feedback, leaving the children to scramble, thinking they can’t get better. Call Barty somewhat of a reluctant perfectionist where this was concerned. But he is also one of the biggest procrastinators, which means he is three weeks behind on grading papers.
So, here Barty is, in his and Evan’s shared home office, grading papers early enough on a Saturday morning where the sky is just now turning pink from sunrise. He’s graded five so far which is progress but out of seventy-five it barely scratches the surface.
Barty is taken out of his groove with light footsteps slowly padding into the room.
“G’morning, dad.” Theo says sleepily, coming into the office wearing pajamas with little golden snitches on the shirt and pants. He rubbed his eyes and gave an exhausted look at his dad. His brown hair scattered in all directions.
“Oh, hey little dude.” Barty speaks, ignoring the stack of papers he has to grade. “Good morning, you’re up early. What’s up?”
“I’m hungry, can we make food?” Theo yawns out, bluntly.
Baty thinks for a moment, glancing at the stack of papers that have been collecting dust over the past few weeks, well he is hungry and doesn’t want Theo to have plain old cereal on a Saturday morning, “Sure, want some pancakes?” He stands up, disregarding the stack of papers once more.
This gets the boy’s attention with his eyes going wide, filled with excitement, “Yes please!”
“Okay, let’s go to the kitchen then.” Theo grabs Barty’s hand and pulls him out of the office, down the steps and to the kitchen.
When Barty and Evan took a two-year-old Theo into their home to raise him, they knew their life would be different. It had to be. Evan was nervous, sure. They both were. It was new and uncharted territory neither of them thought they would ever explore. Barty though, was terrified never having much to model after but he knew he would be a thousand times better than his own father. He had his worries about the future his newly formed family would have. It took conversations with friends to assure him that he would be different. Barty was determined to be nothing like the man who raised him.
Don’t be like your father.
You are not your father.
It was a mantra he would say to himself when Theo first came into their lives. The brown-haired boy was shy, keeping to himself most of the time but over time, he really was Barty and Evan’s son. He had both of their tempers, getting overprotective easily. The boy was mischievous, causing Evan and Barty to get a few owl’s from his wizarding primary school as a result. Theo was not one to keep to himself anymore. The now six-year-old could talk for hours, if one let him. Barty often did, not having it in him to tell him to stop.
Once they make their way into the kitchen, Barty scours the cabinets for all the pans he’ll need for the pancakes as well as measuring cups and ingredients.
“Want to help me with mixing the batter?” Barty asked the boy who was bouncing on his tip-toes excited for pancakes.
Theo hums a yes then heads over to grab his little step stool. He drops it in front of the counter approximately where the bowl is then steps onto it. Theo’s small hands take the already filled measuring cup of pancake mix by the handle then he splatters it into the bowl all at once, causing some mix to launch back on his shirt. The boy looks up at his dad and the mix completely drowns his face making him look like a ghost.
“Oh shit.” Barty chuckles at his son who looks physically as white as a sheet.
“Hey, don’t laugh!” It’s just really funny seeing him mad, his nose crinkled and his face still pale from the mix.
Barty throws his hands up in surrender, “I know, I’m sorry.” He laughs out, “It’s just a little funny.”
“Now breakfast is ruined.” Theo says, grumpily crossing his arms over his chest.
“No it isn't, we have a ton of pancake mix.” Barty assures the boy, “We can always get more.”
It’s amazing how quick the boy’s mood changes from angry to happy, “Okay, yay! Will you wash my shirt too? It’s dirty.” Theo says with a disgusted look, peering down at the mess he made.
“I will, don’t you worry. Let me get you a new shirt and clean off your face, little dude. We’ll finish breakfast in a minute.”
Theo furrows his brows together, perplexed, staring into the bowl, “Wait, look at the bowl dad.”
“What is it?” Barty says, moving to peer closer at the bowl. Did Theo find something wrong with the mix?
“Look.” Theo says adamantly. Once Barty is close enough to inspect the bowl, Theo takes a handful of mix and throws it at Barty's face. Sputtering, shaking his head with the powder going everywhere on the counter and floor, he stares at his son who is grinning so widely, dimples showing.
Barty gasps in mock horror, then stares at his son, “You little devil.”
Theo just laughs maniacally, “I got you real good, dad.”
“I was not expecting that, let’s clean up this mess, yeah?” Theo nods, still laughing and Barty can’t help but join him in the silliness of it all.
They clean up all the mix from the floor and countertops. Theo taking wads of paper towels, wiping up the floor haphazardly. Barty swoops in to clean up the bits Theo missed, but eventually it’s spotless.
They make their way to the bathroom upstairs which is much larger. Theo gets up on the step stool in there to look at himself in the mirror letting out a loud, squeaking gasp.
“I’m as white as a marshmallow!” Theo announces, filled with utter surprise at how silly he looks.
“You kind of look like a ghost.” Barty declares, while finding a rag from the closet and wetting it in the sink.
“Am I a scary ghost?” Theo questions, looking up at his dad hopefully.
“Terrifying.”
Which makes Theo smile widely, “Can I scare papa?”
“No, you cannot.” Barty says with a rough shake of the head.
“Aw, why not?” Theo demanded, getting somewhat upset.
“Because he needs his rest but we can wake him up when breakfast is ready. It’s best we clean your face and get your shirt changed.”
“I want to stay a ghost.” Theo pouts.
“Sorry little dude, gonna have to resurrect you.”
“Darn.” He dejects, then looks up puzzled. “What does res-sir-wrecked mean?”
Barty smirks, “It means to come back to life.”
“Can I just not come back to life then?”
“No.”
“Why not?” If it was possible for the boy to go into more grumpy confusion then the look he had furthered that expression. He had his arms crossed, not wanting to clean his face in the slightest.
“Your papa and I would miss you too much.”
“Oh, I’d miss you both too.” He uncrosses his arms, allowing his father to clean his face. “Okay, resurrect me.”
Barty scoffs a laugh, “Will do, now come here.” He inspects the boy’s face before lightly taking off the mix with the wet rag. “Let’s get all this off your face. How did you get pancake mix behind your ears?”
Theo shrugs but stays still as Barty wipes the powder off his face. After a few seconds, Theo gets an uncomfortable look on his face, “It’s too scratchy, dad. Can I clean the rest off?”
“Sure.” Bary hands him the rag, watching the boy wipe the rest of the mix off his face and under his chin.
Once he was finished, the boy looked at his dad with a gasp, “You look like a ghost too, dad!”
Barty gives him a shocked expression, “Do I?” He says, pretending like he had no clue.
“Yeah, look.” He insists, pointing at the mirror.
“Huh, look at that.” Barty concurred, inspecting his face in the mirror for dramatics. “I do.”
“Yeah, you have to resurrect yourself.” Theo says, determined. “Papa and I will miss you too.”
“Thanks little dude, it goes without saying I’d do the same.” Barty affirmed. “Now, let me just get all this off.” He grabs a new rag from the closet, wiping the access mix off his face. “See? Now I am no longer a ghost.”
“Yay! We’re free!” Theo booms loudly that it echoed throughout the home.
“Theo, your papa is sleeping.” Barty chides.
“Oh, sorry.” Theo relays sheepishly, pulling his lips in a thin line, then giving a meek smile.
Once they each get themselves clean, Barty makes a quick stop to his and Evan’s room to switch out a shirt, leaving Theo outside the door. There his husband was still sleeping soundly, which is well deserved after some difficult Auror case he has been handling lately. Barty quickly finds a shirt then puts it on discarded the old one in the laundry bin.
He closes the door to the bedroom lightly before facing Theo, “Okay little dude, let’s get you changed.”
“Why do you call me little dude?” Theo wondered curiously, stepping further into the hallway with Barty following suit.
“It’s just a nickname or term of endearment.” Barty explains.
“I only know what one of those means.”
“Which one don’t you know?”
“Term of in-deer-ment.”
“A term of endearment is when you call someone a nickname out of love. It can be for anyone that means something to you.”
“Oh, is that why papa calls me mon petit coeur and you mon amour?”
“Yes, that is exactly right.”
“Is Uncle Reggie calling you the d-word, a term of endearment too?” The d-word Theo is referring to is dickhead, which is common in Regulus’ vernacular where Barty is concerned.
“Coming from Reggie, of course because he’s my best friend. If someone who doesn’t know you that well calls you a dickhead then you tell someone.”
Theo nods then stomps his way absentmindedly to his room seemingly moving away from the conversation, Barty following behind. When they reach the room, Theo has left it in a disarray, toys scattered on the floor, and bed unmade. Barty just tiptoes strategically across the obstacles of toys to the dresser. He pulls out a plain blue shirt for Theo, then hands it to him. Theo takes the shirt, happily replacing his dirty one. While Theo does that, Barty picks up some toys, placing them in the bin by the dresser.
“Okay, all done.” Theo declares with a clap of his hands. “Can we finish breakfast now?”
“We sure can.”
“Can we please have sausage? Not the flat circle ones but the ones that look like mini hotdogs.”
“Of course, anything else?”
“Nope, just the mini hotdogs.” Then they finally head to the kitchen to finish breakfast.
+
It took about an hour, Barty barely thought about the papers he needed to grade, but they finished breakfast. Theo wanted to help flip a pancake which Barty obliged. Which consisted of Barty and Theo both grasping the spatula to flip the pancake, because he would absolutely not let a six-year-old flip a pancake by himself. It almost ended in another disaster with a pancake finding its way to the floor, but luckily it only ended with a misshapen looking one instead. Theo was proud and Barty gave him praise, because he really did a good job at making his first pancake, even with some assistance.
After they set the plates with food, drinks and silverware they heard footsteps coming from the entrance of the kitchen. Barty turned around to see his husband, donning his plaid pajama pants with a plain white shirt. He gave a big yawn and stretched his arms a little before walking more into the kitchen. Evan always looked beautiful and always will no matter what he is wearing or how he looks. Barty finds his breath always hitches a little whenever they are in the same room together despite the length of time they’ve been a couple.
Barty gives a wicked smile, “Good morning, darling.”
“Good morning, mon amour.” He says it with such ease now, but Barty still beams internally everytime he calls him the name. Evan turns to Theo who is sitting at the kitchen table. “Good morning, mon petit coeur.”
“Good morning, papa.” Theo responds, grinning widely up at him.
Evan steps closer to give Theo a hug from the side. When he pulls back, he gives a puzzled look at the top of their son’s head, “Barty?”
“Yeah?” The man fixes his gaze to look at his husband.
“Why is there pancake mix in our son’s hair?” Evan asks, looking more intently, his face contorting into further perplexion.
“We became ghosts!” Theo exclaims.
“Did you?” Evan replies, shocked,
“Yeah but dad said we need to resurrect ourselves or we’d all miss each other too much.”
Evan turns his head to look at Barty, directing the conversation at him now, “Is that code for, you had a pancake mix fight?”
“Yes, just a small one.” Barty assures, using his thumb and index to indicate how small it was. He decided to make himself a coffee and is setting the cup down next to his plate.
“Fine by me then.” Evan says with a slight shrug, turning his attention back to their son ruffling his hair, getting the access mix off it. “Well, I’m glad you did as I would miss you both.” Then he kisses the top of Theo’s head.
“Let’s eat breakfast now, papa. I’m starving.”
“Alright, just give me a second.” Evan replies, before fixing himself a tea then finding a seat at one of the sides between Barty and Theo.
The family finds themselves sitting at the kitchen table, chomping happily on their breakfast. Theo asked to pour his own syrup, which Evan agreed too, passing the bottle. The boy drowned his pancake in a sea of goopy syrup, making it look like a little island. They are definitely gonna regret the sugar intake later but right now the boy is happily chewing on the wet sugar-caked breakfast.
Barty finds himself drifting in his head thinking again. Always thinking about nothing and everything with the world swirling around him. He thought of those papers he really needed to finish grading. Then he thought of Theo who would be upset if his father dismissed him. Which led Barty to think about his own father and the harsh words that he spouted in his direction. It’s not the same because he has done his hardest to not be the same but the fear is still there, never leaving him fully. Lurking in places that not even Barty was aware of until he finds himself in an internal mental spiral like this one.
Barty wishes above all else that his mother was here to lay a gentle hand on his head and pull him close to whisper in his ear assuring him everything would be alright. His darling mother who he looked up to dearly. She would have absolutely adored Theo.
“I thought you liked school?” Barty hears Evan say to Theo which pulls him out of his thoughts. His husband’s voice immediately brought him to ease. Always did, even when they were at Hogwarts.
“I like the people, not the learning.” Theo responds, his face having bits of syrup on it. “I like Auntie Dora’s place a lot more.”
“That’s a thought I can agree with.” Barty says, joining in on the conversation.
“Pandora has always been good at making things fun.” Evan points out, nodding as well.
“Yup, and Luna isn’t like the kids at school.” Theo takes another bite of his food, “She’s cooler.”
Barty drinks from the cup of coffee, shrugging his head to the side, “Good to know.”
“There has to be other kids at school you like.” Evan insists, inviting his son for more conversation.
“Hmm,” Theo ponders, looking up at the ceiling in deep thought. “Harry.”
“Potter?” Evan and Barty both say together, not meaning to. That was a common occurrence as they often had similar reactions to things their son did. It also comes from being with someone for years, being so comfortable with another in such a way.
“Yeah, he’s cool. His parents are divorced.” Out of all the things Barty was prepared for as a parent, his kid saying something so out of pocket was not one of them. It’s the phrasing too, making it seem like Harry is cool because his parents are divorced that causes Barty to choke on his food.
“Merlin on high.” Evan sighs out, placing a hand on his head, elbow on the table.
“That’s actually funny, maybe we can set up a playdate with Harry and his dad?” Barty remarks, the gears start to turn in that head of his, never losing the mischievousness he possessed at Hogwarts.
“Because that won’t be awkward at all.” Evan says pointedly, rolling his eyes. In hindsight, it would be awkward but Barty has a plan.
Barty then adds, “We could invite Uncle Reggie and little Dean, yeah?”
A wide, stunning grin spreads across his husband's face, “Now, that would be hilarious.”
Not many knew about the little relationship between James Potter and Regulus Black had back at Hogwarts but Barty and Evan did. Never telling a soul. Now with Regulus being single, co-parenting with Dean’s mother and James’ recent divorce, this could be interesting indeed.
“Can we?” Theo asks, not privy to the plan forming in Barty’s mind. “Harry and Dean get along super well too. We always play together at the Wizarding Primary whenever we have free play time.”
“That could be arranged.” Barty agrees. He’ll have to send out an owl as soon as he gets the time. Theo just chomps on his food, swirling his fork in the syrup around in little circles, uninterested in the conversation anymore.
“You are devious.” Evan whispers, leaning in to where only Barty could hear.
“You married me for it.” Barty whispered back.
“One of the many qualities I love about you.” Evan says, taking a bite of the sausage on his plate.
“Why do we have to learn at school?” Theo chirps, suddenly bringing the adults back to the aforementioned topic.
“Because it makes us stronger and wiser.” Evan replied, picking up and handing Theo a napkin to get off the access syrup on his face. The boy takes it, smears it across his face and manages to get half the syrup off before sitting it back down. “When you get to Hogwarts there will be lots of fun things to learn.”
“Like what?” Theo asks, curiously.
“Like spells.”
“I already know lots of spells.”
“You know spells for kids but these spells are more advanced, for big kids.”
“Oh, why can’t I be a big kid now?”
“Well, you have five more years until you go to Hogwarts. Still a little bit more growing to do.”
Barty just admires the interaction between the two most important people in his life. Taking in the conversation they have. To other people it may be boring but Barty never feels that way around them. As everyday is a new adventure.
Theo turns his attention to Barty, “Will you be my professor, dad?”
“Yes, if you take my class.” If Barty is still working there by that time, it’s looking like he will. They haven’t fired him yet and he is quite enjoying being a professor.
“Cool, I’m gonna be the smartest one there!”
“I have no doubt that you will.” Barty says honestly, truly believing that his son could achieve anything because there was no reason to think anything else.
The family continues to eat their food, then Theo ceremoniously decides he is done, standing up from his seat to place his plates in the sink. He goes back to make sure his side of the table is clean then heads to the living room to seemingly play with the toys in there. Barty finds that there are kids toys in almost every room in the house, when the couple tries to put them away, they somehow find their way back to their original spot, so Barty and Evan stop trying.
Barty and Evan are still in the kitchen finishing their food. When Barty is done he cleans up the rest of the dishes to place them in the sink to wash later. He asks Evan if he is done with his dishes, which the blonde nods, seemingly in thought.
Barty sits back down, looking at his husband who is now rubbing his temples, “Are you alright?”
Evan sighs tiredly, “Yeah, just thinking.”
“About?”
“They want me to go on a week-long mission in a few months but I don’t think I can.” Evan remarks in a grumbling tone. Being an Auror can be time consuming, at least it seems that way, as he notices the bags that find their way under Evans' eyes after difficult cases. The man enjoys it though, but has avoided going on long trips for work, feeling the same way as Barty in that he doesn't want to miss a moment.
“You could, if you wanted to.” Barty encourages, giving a small but warm smile.
“I just don’t want to be apart from you guys that long. Like we established earlier, I’d miss you both terribly.”
“Yeah, a week would be hard. The days I have to monitor the halls at night are the worst.” The professors alternate between who is on duty for the night. Barty ends up doing them about twice a month which basically consists of sitting in his office and waiting for a prefect to report on something a student did. It was boring and he hated it to say the least but had to reluctantly do it because it was in the job description unfortunately.
Evan looks at Barty in understanding, “I want to cherish every moment I have with you guys even if it means not taking on those long trips. A day or two, maybe but more than that is a no right now.” He pauses, coughs a little then continues. “Enough about me though, how is your procrastination going?.”
“We’ll talk about this later.” He informed, referring to the previous topic, Evan just nodded, not wanting to discuss the topic further at the moment. An agreement that he will talk later. “Also, I don’t think procrastinating has become a huge issue.” Barty lied sheepishly, taking a sip from his coffee.
Evan narrowed his eyes, “How are those papers you’ve been trying to grade for the past three weeks?”
“Good.” Barty says, finding the placemat on the table quite fascinating. The color really contrasts well with the dark wood.
“So, you finished?”
“No.”
“So, you're almost finished?”
“Not even close.”
“Have you graded any?”
“Five.”
“That’s a new record!” Evan cheered with feigned amusement, raising his cup of tea in his hand.
“Thank you!” Barty replies in the same tone, picking his mug of coffee up to clink their cups together. “I just want to spend as much time with Theo as I can. So when he asks, I just can’t tell him no.”
“I get it, but I think he’ll understand if you need a few hours. The kid is incredibly insightful like that.”
“Learned from the best.”
“I know it. Just don’t get too hung up about it.” Evan pauses before leaning in closer, taking Barty’s hand in his. “You may need a little reminder but you are nothing like your father. You’re a good dad.”
It was something the couple did often, reminding each other that they are doing great. The compliments meant the world when it came from one another.
“I really fucking love you.” Which is another thing they always say to one another. Has said it since they were boys in Hogwarts flirting shamelessly with one another, falling in love desperately. It was an intense love they never felt before and one that never wavered since.
“I really fucking love you too.” Evan replies just as meaningful as he always did.
They are startled out of their moment by a bustling of feet running into the kitchen.
This is the moment where Barty and Evan regret the copious amount of syrup they just fed their child.
Theo stands in front of them, bouncing on his tiptoes in excitement, “Hey, dad and papa? Can we play a game?”
Barty and Evan share a glance. Okay. He can do this. Barty can be responsible every once and a while.
The man crouches down a little to look at his son, giving him a sincere look, speaking softly “Little dude, I have to grade just a little bit of papers before tomorrow, so I can’t play right now.”
“Oh.” Theo says glumly, his head falling down in disappointment.
Okay. Nevermind, when has Barty ever been responsible anyway? His students don’t need grades anyway, they’ll be fine.
Unexpectedly, Theo looks back up, “You’ll play with me later though, promise?”
Barty swallows the lump he didn’t realize was in his throat, looking down at his son confirming that he will not let him down, “Of course.”
“Okay. Papa, you can play though, right?”
“Yes, I sure can.” Evan replies, not before giving an I told you so look at Barty.
“I’ll be back soon, little dude.” Theo just nods then goes to his room with Evan walking behind the boy but not before giving Barty a quick kiss on the lips.
“Good luck, mon amour.”
“Thank you, darling.”
+
It took about two long, painfully upsetting hours to finish the papers but Barty did it. Some students were easy to grade while others, he gave detailed feedback to every single one of them. Other papers were difficult as he tried to give feedback that could be helpful. He also realizes that some of the students may never look at the feedback but some do, so he does it for them.
When he finally finished, he made it downstairs to see Evan drawing in his sketchbook and Theo next to him coloring. Those two right in front of him are his everything, he’ll never know how he, a boy who few wanted, got so lucky to have the life he did. How he amounted to more and beyond what his father would tell him.
“Guess who just finished.” Barty says, bringing the two at the table out of concentration.
Theo immediately scrambles out of his seat, forgetting the coloring book on the table running over to Barty.
“Can you play now?” Theo asks, jumping up and down, likely still feeling the affects of the sugary syrup.
Barty looks at his son, who is staring up at him with huge pleading eyes. A look he can’t say no to. It was one Barty used to give to his own father who would reply harshly and wave him off.
When it comes to his son, Barty’d tear the whole world down if it meant the boy would be happy. He has felt that way since the once shy two-year-old set foot into their lives.
“Yeah, I can play now.” Barty says, looking down at his son, smiling widely. Theo grins back excitedly, pulling the man in the direction of his room where all his toys are. Evan looks at them fondly from the doorframe, hands over his chest, legs crossed.
Theo quickly turns his head over in the man’s direction, “You have to play too, papa!”
“Of course, mon petit coeur.” Evan says, then saunters his way over to them. Barty looks back at his husband then looks at the son whose hand is in his.
Yeah Barty is nothing like his father and never will be. The way his son is smiling gleefully is proof of that.