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Tom asked if he wanted to go to the cinema.
Rubeus grunted distractedly, then looked up from the blanket he was knitting, Fang dozing at his feet. Tom's expression was inscrutable as always, his dark eyes low-lidded and his mouth crooked.
"Yeh mean muggle cinema?" Rubeus made sure.
Tom raised his eyebrow. "Are there other kinds?" he inquired, and Rubeus flushed. Tom looked back down at the book he was reading, his long white fingers holding the blackened pages delicately. Characters that Rubeus didn't recognise or know how to read were scrawled on the spine. "I think you will like it," Tom added off-handedly, and Rubeus supposed that settled it.
He'd never been to the cinema before. Not that he'd been to the muggle world in years either. Not since he used to sneak off to see Tom at the orphanage during the summer hols at Hogwarts. And as far as Rubeus was aware, Tom hadn't gone to the muggle world after graduation unless he had business there, looking for lost artefacts of wizarding origin. For all the world, he was like any pure-blood wizard, having carefully rid himself of everything that might hint at his muggle blood and upbringing.
Rubeus looked around the theatre as Tom got the tickets, fascinated by all the little things muggles came up with.
He came back after a while, and Rubeus noticed the eyes turning towards him almost unwittingly, his pale skin and delicate features emphasised with the sharp cut of his dark hair. Rubeus scowled and filled out his shoulders, standing tall and intimidating next to him, and the muggles scurried off hastily. Tom glanced at him with his dark eyes, seeming amused.
He'd always attracted everyone's eyes, even at school. Rubeus still remembered the first time he'd met him, through mutual friends. He'd never thought of a boy that way before, but he hadn't been able to take his eyes off of Tom, fumbling and blushing and making an idiot of himself.
He'd been the most beautiful person Rubeus had ever seen. And smart, wickedly smart. He still was.
Rubeus followed Tom to the auditorium. The seats were too small and uncomfortable, bending under his weight. They sat at the very back, over the heads of everyone else. Rubeus leaned towards Tom and whispered in a loud voice, "What's the film 'bout?"
"You'll see," Tom said.
The lights dimmed and went out. The white screen at the front stretched slowly wide, then bright pictures flickered on it, like wizarding photographs that went on with sound. Rubeus stared, amazed. He kept asking Tom if this was the film, but he told him it was just an advert, whatever muggle thing that was.
Eventually, the film started. A huge, jagged vessel glided through space. There were muggles sleeping in strange white pods like vampires in coffins, which Rubeus thought was funny.
He didn't much care about the muggles, though; they kept talking about and doing things he didn't understand. He watched with increasing stupor, struggling not to fall asleep and wondering why Tom had thought he'd like this film.
He didn't perk up until the muggles found the eggs. One of them hatched, and a creature latched onto a muggle's face. The others took him back to the jagged ship, and there was more boring talk. Rubeus held his breath anxiously while the muggles tried to cut the creature off, then made a small envious noise when the creature's wound bled acid. He slumped down with crushing disappointment when it died. Even the muggle was fine.
Rubeus went back into a half-awake stupor, and then another creature, a small baby, burst out of the muggle's chest. It screeched and escaped into the ship. Rubeus cheered the little thing on silently as the muggles went around trying to capture and kill it. He waited with bated breath for the film to reveal what it looked like as a full-grown, and when it did -
- it was beautiful.
Rubeus burst into tears when the film ended, sobbing loudly into his handkerchief and getting askance glances from the exiting muggles. "He was so beautiful!" he cried. "And he was only jus' a baby! Not even a day old! And the muggles jus' killed him!"
Tom waited for him to calm down, regarding him with that same detached interest he always did when Rubeus cried.
As they left the cinema, Rubeus asked brightly, "Are there really creatures like that? Yeh think I could have one?"
"There aren't," Tom said, sounding amused. "It was only a story. None of it was real."
"The things muggles come up with, eh," said Rubeus and secretly wondered if he could wheedle Tom to transfigure one of those creatures for him.
They ambled towards the Leaky Cauldron. It was early summer, and the evening was mild and clear. Tom made a quick stop at a muggle bookstore and came back out carrying a paper bag. Rubeus eyed the bag curiously, then rambled on happily about monsters until they reached the Leaky Cauldron and sat down at their regular table.
Tom slid the paper bag across the table, his mouth crooked in a faint smile. Rubeus picked the bag up, slanting a shy curious eye at him. The paper rustled as he pulled a book out, and his eyes widened at the sight of huge creatures he'd never seen. He flipped through the pages with hushed awe.
"What are these?" he asked.
"Muggles call them dinosaurs," Tom said, and Rubeus demanded to know what dinosaurs were.
"And they're all dead?" he asked, disappointed.
"Well, the dragons are still alive," Tom said, tipping his head and drink back, and Rubeus's eyes snagged on the long pale gleam of his throat.
He felt buzzed, giddy, as if he was all of fifteen again, listening intently when Tom uncharacteristically talked about his dad and leaning in to kiss him in a fit of irrepressible madness. He'd reeled back, stammering apologies and excuses, and Tom had smiled with that same indulgent amusement he always had when Rubeus had let him know his feelings.
He wondered would Tom smile again if he kissed him now. Rubeus liked his smile. He didn't do it often.
Before he realised what he was doing, he was already leaning in and kissing him in the dark, smoky corner of the Leaky Cauldron. The chatter went on, a meaningless murmur in the background. Tom laughed into the kiss, a little more than a breath, then he kissed back. When he pulled back, Rubeus was breathless, just like he'd been at fifteen and years afterwards.
"Let's go home, Rubeus," Tom said, standing up. His eyes were dark, full of promise.
"Yeah. Okay," Rubeus said and took his hand on their way out. Tom let him.
It was a good night.