Archive of Our Own

The first thing Bez registered was him breaking out of the cold water, unaware that he had been submerged in the first place. He could hear the raucous applause above him, clinging onto Sava as the cold air sank into his bones. 

“You ok?” Sava stared at him, concern apparent in his eyes as he shifted his hold on Bez. Bez could only nod in response, his arm breaking the water, robe adding weight onto his arm as he tried to wipe the water from his eyes. He let Sava navigate them to the dock that the tournament had set up near them, friends and officials ready to hover over them with towels and warming spells. 

“Lorenzo Savadori, second place!” 

Bez thought he could faintly hear the announcement behind him, his ears still ringing from suddenly being filled with water. He was crouched next to Sava, his curls a wet mess, as he wrapped the towel over himself as much as he could. Sava grinned at the roaring crowd, the last champion paddling up to the water behind him, but he turned back to Bez. 

Bez felt Sava huddle up next to him, also shivering wrapped up in a towel of his own. Bez huddled closer, their shared warmth a small thing but warmth was warmth, and he was willing to take whatever source of heat he got. 

Sava turned the grin he gave the audience back to Bez, “Cool, no?” 

Bez punched his arm in response, a light thing, a show of affection if nothing else, “I didn’t know I was going to be involved in this…” Bez struggled to find the words to describe the Triwizard Tournament, “This circus.” 

He got a laugh in response, Sava wrapping an arm around him and pulling him closer, “I didn’t know, promise.” 

Bez scowled at him, one that didn’t have any real feelings behind it, but he still moved even closer towards Sava. 

He found himself blinded by the sudden light of a camera, and he shielded himself against its harsh light. It was followed by more flashes, and the loud clamboring of reporters all yelling at him and the other champions that were currently sitting on the docks. Officials tried to hold a blockade against the incoming questions, but it wasn’t much relief. 

“You want to go to the tent? I heard they’re keeping an eternal flame going.” Sava whispered, using his towel as a barrier between them and the press that were still yelling at them and the other champions for anything they had to say regarding the task. 

“Yeah.” They both stood up, both of them still shivering from the chill of the weather of the north combined with cold water from the lake. They walked together, Sava still had an arm across Bez’s shoulder, keeping him close and Bez appreciated the warmth that radiated from the other. 

“What even was the task?” He couldn’t remember how he had ended up submerged in the lake, the last thing he remembered was being called to the headmaster’s office for something that he couldn’t exactly remember anymore. 

“You remember the egg?” 

Bez winced, he didn’t think he was going to be able to forget the egg anytime soon. The first time he’d experienced someone try to open it, his ears were ringing for days afterwards. The shriek of the egg would be embedded in his memories for days to come. He and Sava had spent hours with their heads buried in books whenever they were free from their classes, trying to figure out what the hint placed inside it was. 

It was how they had gotten to know each other properly, Sava running into Bez near the dragons. A result of sneaking out to figure out anything of what the first task might have entailed. Bez was there to basically watch the dragon handlers, study them from up close in an opportunity that would’ve enhanced his chances of continuing to study them in the long term. 

He had quite literally stumbled upon Sava and his hiding spot while trying to get a better look at the Swedish Short-Snout the handlers were handling, in awe of the stature of the beast. 

“She’s beautiful…” He stepped backwards, taking it all in. He kept moving backwards until he felt the back of his feet hit something but his momentum kept travelling. 

“Shit!” He ended up tumbling into foliage, leaves and twigs tangled into his hair as he sat up to look at what he tripped over. 

He found himself staring at someone, someone that he found vaguely familiar. 

“You!” 

“Shhhhhh” The person he had tripped over, a Beauxbatons student if he remembered correctly, more specifically the champion for the other school. He couldn’t remember his name. He wasn’t paying too much attention when the champions were announced, he cheered when the people around him cheered, but he was too busy skimming through the new textbooks for the advanced Care of Magical Creatures class. He felt the entire room shake when the Hogwarts champion was announced, someone he had met in passing along the corridors, a seventh year student by the name of Marc Marquez. He and his friends, outside of Pecco, weren’t old enough to place their names into the goblet at the start of the year so he was only there as a spectator of a tournament he didn’t care too much about. 

“You’re the Beauxbaton champion,” He hissed at the person who had tripped him, “Dori-something right? What are you doing here?” 

“One of my relatives works at the dragon sanctuary up north,” He shuffled to make room for Bez, the both of them cramped as the champion tried to stay hidden from the view of the handlers who were too focused on the dragons at hand, “He told me that they were sending a pair of dragons to Scotland and if I knew what it might’ve been about.” 

Bez still scowled at the other person, both of them a mess of limps and foliage as they tried to stay hidden. 

“Bezzecchi?” 

“Coming!” He glared at ‘Dori-something’ , the memory of his name still hazy in his brain as he detangled himself from the mess of brush and limbs, “Also you might want to be careful, the bush is nettle.” 

He watched the champion’s face cycle through a variety of emotions settling at anger once he realised that Bez was only fucking with him. Bez laughed as he walked away from the bush and back to the dragons. The handlers struggled to keep them calm in the new environment, and Bez continued to watch from a safe distance, trailing behind his professor who knew that he was there. 

The first task did end up being dragons. 

Bez had watched from the designated audience seating, watched the champions each pick the dragon they’d be pitted against with the Beauxbatons Champion, who he’d hence learned was called Lorenzo Savadori. A name that he had tested out on his tongue when he’d first found out. 

He watched Savadori place the dragon under a spelled sleep, sneaking around it as he wove along the real eggs to claim the golden egg. 

He’d watched as Savadori held the egg he had to retrieve for the task over his head triumphantly, the roars of the Beauxbatons students that had also come for the tournament echoing around the stadium. For the quickest of seconds, he thought that they had looked at each other, the other man still soaking in the cheers of his fellow students. He only watched from the corner of his eyes for the rest of the champions, Savadori placing third after the other champions had gone. 

“They should’ve given him more points for not actually harming the dragon,” Bez mumbled. 

“What?!” Cele, a fourth year, asked, yelling over the sound of the cheering masses. 

“Nothing!” Bez yelled back, Celestino nodding and promptly going back to yelling at the top of his lungs for the Hogwarts champion. 

Neither of them knew Marquez, they hadn’t talked to him, the only interaction they had was with his younger brother, Álex Marquez, who shared a year with him and Pecco. He’d seen the brothers around, both of them popular Gryffindors. However, there was a certain sense of school spirit that was to be expected of them, so they both, Bez not as much, found themselves cheering for the older Marquez brother as he also raised the golden egg, scorched and singed but first. 

Bez and Cele had found themselves following the moving crowd, unable to exactly control where he was going with a crowd this large. They ended up at a party in the Gryffindor common room despite Cele’s status as a Hufflepuff and Bez as a Slytherin. 

Not long into the party, a chant started as the Gryffindors began to raise Marc high, “Open it! Open it! Open it! Open it!” 

At the end of the task they were told, the champions and the greater student population, both transfer schools included, that the golden egg held a hint to the next task. A task that would come in the spring, once the ice that had started to form thawed. 

Marc smiled at the crowd, still hefted onto the shoulders of various Gryffindors, and obliged them. 

He unlatched the top of the golden egg, peeling back its outer shell to reveal a beautiful interior shortly followed by a piercing shriek. Bez reached for Cele, both of them crouching as they tried to avoid the unavoidable, sneaking along the edge of the walls to the exit of the common room. They’d shared a quick glance at each other, a silent conversation that had them finally exiting the dorms, the portrait of the opera singer slamming shut behind them. 

“What the fuck was that.” 

“I don’t know.” Bez’s ears were still ringing, the shriek of whatever was kept inside that egg following them even outside of the common room as they presumably tried to open it a couple more times in case the first one was a fluke. 

They’d dashed off by the second shriek, the portraits complaining about the noise and covering their ears too as they ran past. 

“What kind of egg is that?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“I thought you were the expert on Magical Creatures?” 

“I am but I don’t know of any magical creature born from an egg that screams like…” Bez struggled to put the words out, to describe the screams that the egg had released. It was loud and it hurt but, there was a part of it that lured him in, no denying that it belonged to a magical being of one kind or another, “...That.”

They made their way to their respective common rooms, both of them heading down as the stairs shifted and the portraits whispered about the tournament above them. He could hear bits and pieces of the conversation, portrait from portrait relaying the results up and down the wall that had barely anything of the brick wall left showing, covered top to bottom in paintings of all eras and all styles.

He reached the empty span of wall across from the potions classroom. He swore he could hear someone fumbling around the potions classroom, murmured swearing in Italian, followed by more bangs as the person in question seemed to trip over themselves, and then more muttered swearing. He stared inside the open door, a door that was usually locked by this time of night, the curfews looser with the new arrivals and the celebrations that were bound to happen after the task tonight. 

He cleared his throat in front of the snake that had appeared and revealed the doorway into the common rooms only to be interrupted by louder sounds from the classroom. 

His curiosity piqued, and he made his way over to the door, taking a peek through the gap to get a slight hint of who or what was making all of these noises this time of night. 

“Savadori?” 

He watched as the older student startled by his entrance, jumping slightly and dropping whatever was in his hands, causing it to shatter on the floor of the classroom, the potion left to sizzle before it seeped into the stones of the floor. 

“Merda.” He turned to face Bez, a face full of surprise, “You again?” 

“Me again.” 

“What are you doing here?” 

Bez chuckled, leaning against the doorway of the classroom, the door opening further compared to how it had only been slightly ajar when Bez had entered the room, “My common room is right there.” He gestured towards the wall where the snake would appear once a student got close to it. 

“How do we keep running into each other?” Savadori mumbled to himself, exasperation present in his voice as he stared at the potion that had now completely disappeared. The only hint of its existence being the shards of glass from the vial that had held it. 

Sava sighed as he took out his wand, “ Reparo .” 

He waved it in the air as the glasses all reformed into the shape of the vial that he had dropped, Bez stared at the empty vial, “What was it?” 

“Something made of banshee's tears.” Sava shrugged, “I thought it might help with the egg, or at least help me cure this massive headache from all the screaming.” 

He imitated the screams of the egg and chuckled, tucking the vial away into a pocket along his robe, “I don’t think we’ve properly met?” 

“We met when you made me fall over you in that field the other night.” Bez scoffed, rolling his eyes, and finally putting his hand in Savadori’s outstretched hand, expecting nothing more than an introductory handshake, “Marco Bezzecchi, people usually just call me Bez.” 

He was surprised when he felt his hand, still in Savadori’s grasp, move. Savadori leaned down to press a light kiss on the back of Bez’s hand. He could feel the heat from where his lips had touched his hands all the way up to the back of his ears.

“Enchanté, Bez.” 

He quickly removed his hand from Sava’s hand, the blush probably apparent as he could feel it continue climbing up as he sputtered for a response, “Savadori?” 

“Sava.” Sava smiled, his teeth showing in the grin, “Are you also Italian?” 

Bez nodded and cleared his throat, eager for a distraction from the blush that was definitely showing. “My family moved over here for Quidditch.” 

Sava nodded in understanding, the Quidditch scene in Italy wasn’t the best, and though they ran a decent team it paled in comparison to the British teams where Quidditch was a bigger sport. 

“Do you play?” 

“No.” Bez shrugged, “My sisters are the athletes of the family, they’re chasers.” 

Sava nodded again, interest at whatever Bez had to say apparent as he leaned on the potions counter, ready to make himself comfortable. He didn’t get to lean for long though as a burst of transparent colors burst into the room, scaring both of them. 

“Oh!” Peeves did a flip midair, “What’s this… Students out of their dorms after curfew!” 

He giggled, mocking them with taunts of getting them into trouble but only shutting up as Bez flashed his prefects badge at Peeves, “He needed some ingredients for a project, and the professor let him get the supplies on the condition that I supervise him.” 

Peeves visibly deflated, muttering as he passed through walls most likely looking for whatever students he could tattle on at these hours. Bez sighed, adjusting his prefect's badge on his robes, “The badge has its privileges, no?” 

Sava laughed, “I think that was my cue to be off.” 

“Are you good to make it back to the…” Bez forgot where the batch of Beauxbatons students were rooming during the year, “Carriage?” 

“Close enough, I should know my way back from here.” He waved as he left the potions classroom ahead of Bez, “Good night, Bez.” 

“Good night.” Bez could still feel the heat of his blush in the tips of the ears by that point, “Thank you for not hurting the dragon! I think they should have given you more points!” 

He called down the hallway after Sava, receiving a wide smile and he continued to watch the back of the blue Beauxbatons robes until he could no longer see them anymore as Sava turned a corner. He finally entered his commons room then, his ears still red and flushed, but at least it was a spot hidden beneath his curls. 

He ran into Sava again sooner rather than later, an inevitability given the fact that they inhabited the castle that was so big but only to an extent. 

It was in the library, Bez scouring the higher shelves on one of the attached ladders. He could hear the gossip around the castle, the rumors of the Yule ball being hosted again, everyone running to be paired off and look for dates, but currently he could only find himself caring for the N.E.W.T.S that also seemed to loom ahead of him. He was looking for a specific book, another one by Newt Scammander, one of his older manuscripts that didn’t get the popularity that “Fantastic Beasts And Where to Find Them.” 

He was reaching for what he thought was the book before promptly giving up and taking his wand out, “ Accio book .” 

The book flew into his hands, its cover tatty and barely legible as the years had faded the formerly gold script. He flicked through the book, checking if it was in any way the book he was looking for. 

“Tee hee!” 

“Peeves!” He could feel the ladder start to shake as the multicolored ghost flew around it in loops, shaking the ladder as much as he could in the process. He clung onto the book, wand at the ready to spell a cushioning charm as he felt himself fall from the top of the shelves to the floor a good couple of meters below him. The words of the cushioning charm were right at the tip of his tongue before he heard another spell, “ Arresto Momentum !” 

Bez felt himself stop midair, still a distance away from the floor, head turning around wildly to see who had caught him. He saw Sava on the floor level of the library, wand out and pointed at where Bez was stopped midair, “ Descendo. ” 

The rest of the distance down was slow, Bez gently landing into arms before he could try to figure out the logistics of how he was going to land on his feet. Sava put him down, back onto solid ground, the book still clutched to his chest, “Are you alright?” 

“Peeves.” Bez nodded and rolled his eyes at the visage of the ghost who he swore was blowing a raspberry at him from the higher floors of the library. 

He was able to get a glance at some of the books Sava placed on the floors, leaving his arms clear to catch Bez, and he recognised the book at the top, a book he had read a year ago, “Are you still trying to figure out the egg?” 

Sava looked sheepish at the reminder of the golden egg that still lay uncracked by any of the three contestants. He had heard from Pecco about the state of the Gryffindor common room whenever Marc tried to open it again, shrieks still loud as ever despite the layer after layer of silencing charms placed around Marc’s bed. After their first proper encounter in that potions classroom, he’d had an eye around for anything that might have resembled anything like the golden egg, any type of creature that produced shrieks like the headache inducing sounds that the egg released whenever opened. 

“I think you should check out anything on sirens, or Banshees.” Bez pointed to the direction where those books were stored. “I can help you find something to begin with if you want?” 

“Yes.” Sava answered without a second of hesitation, “Please.” 

Bez continued skimming through the book in his hand as he walked over to the Magical Creatures section, his eyes catching on a paragraph about a Zouwu, details about their forms, their abilities, and how sometimes a hair from the mane of the Zouwu might be used for a wand core. He heard Sava rifling through the shelves behind him, about to ask him if he had found anything when he found himself faced with a cloud of dust. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t think you’d turn!” Sava apologized profusely, Bez waving him off as he muttered a quick cleaning charm on him and his robes. Some of it was most definitely still in his hair but he would deal with that later, “But look at this.” 

Bez craned his neck to peer at the book that Sava held in his hands, “Sirens: Behaviours, Habits, and Songs.” 

“It might be a good start,” Bez went back to the shelf, “I’ll look for something on Banshees.” 

“I mean you don’t have to-” 

“I’m doing an essay on them for Professor C anyways.” 

He pulled out the first book he saw about creatures from Ireland, flipping directly to the index and looking for anything related to Banshees. Anything about if they ever had any eggs or whatnot. 

The rest of the evening was just spent like that, Bez and Sava’s heads buried in book after book looking for the smallest hint of whatever might help them crack open the secret that lay inside that golden egg. By the time the librarian kicked them out at the end of the night they’d still made no progress. 

“Again tomorrow?” Sava had asked before he had left in the opposite direction. 

“I’ll be here after dinner.” Bez had nodded and bid him farewell, marking down a new change to his routine, and finding himself spending more days in that small cramped table at the back of the library with Sava but he didn’t find himself minding all that much. 

“Bez!” Bez looked up from the book he was buried in, a manuscript detailing the behaviours of Banshees, the words swirling and giving him a headache the longer that he looked, “Look at this,” 

Sava turned a book in his direction, a quick skim of the earlier paragraphs suggested that it was a book on sirens, and he found himself back at the paragraph that Sava was pointing out. 

“‘Sirens and merpeople have a dialect that is incomprehensible on land, only when underwater can the language be understood, sounding like unending screams when heard above water.’ Sava, I think this might be it.” 

Sava nodded, muttering something about finding a body of water to test out their theory, “The lake maybe?” 

“Yes.” 

Bez leaned back into the uncomfortable chair he had made his home for the last couple of nights, the wood digging into his back but it was better than being craned over the desk flipping through book after book. It was nice to finally relax into his seat a little, the hints of relief that their search was coming to an end. 

“Are you going to the Yule Ball?” He sat back up at the sound of Sava’s voice. 

“Shit.” Bez ran his hands through his hair, “I forgot about that. You’re opening it right? The champions and a plus one?” 

Sava froze at the mention of a plus one, he’d probably too engrossed in this search of theirs to properly ask someone to the ball, a deadline that was approaching. The castle had already started preparations, owls flying in with packages of formal robes clutched in their talons, couples asking each other to the ball in the many alcoves of the castle, something Bez had walked in on too many times to count by this point. 

Sava cleared his throat in front of him, Bez shaken out of the logistical nightmare it was going to be to get things ready for the ball, a trip to the Hogsmeade clothing store was warranted most likely and even then he was cutting it quite close. 

“Do you have a date yet? For the ball.” 

Bez shook his head, “I hadn’t really thought about that part. Do you have one?” 

“Not yet,” Sava busied himself with restacking the books in front of him, “Do you want to go with me?” 

Bez had returned to reclining, the chair balanced on its back legs. He tipped over, falling backwards once he registered the question that Sava was asking, his ability to keep the delicate balance of the chair up with the suddenness of the question. 

“Merda! Bez are you alright?” 

From where he fell he could hear Sava’s chair scrape the floor of the library as he stood up, moving to where Bez had fallen across the table from him. He could hear Peeves snickering above him, the multicolored jester suit of the poltergeist unmistakable in the corner of his eye.

“I’m ok,” He took Sava’s hand, the warmth of Sava’s touch always surprising him. He stared at Sava, still a little bit in shock, “You’re serious?” 

“Deathly serious.” Bez studied Sava’s face, looking for any sign that this was a prank, a joke, but he found nothing. Sava’s face looked more serious than ever, his mouth pulled in a straight line instead of the smile that he had always associated the other with. He could feel the blush that he felt the first time they had properly talked in that potions classroom creeping up along his neck again. 

“Yes.” Sava beamed in front of him, “I’ll go with you to the Yule Ball.” 

He didn’t predict Sava hugging him, arms wrapped around his waist, lifting, and spinning, “Sava put me down, oh my god!” 

They were laughing, giddiness apparent in that little corner of the library.

The days after that moved fast, and before he knew it, he found himself staring down the looming doors of the great hall. His hand clasped around Sava’s.

“Nervous?” Sava leaned over to whisper to him, both of them third in line behind the Durmstrang champion and their date. 

“It’s not like most of the student body is in there already.” 

They weren’t exactly matching, Sava’s dress robes a dark velvet, the bowtie that adorned his neck was the same shade to match, a massive contrast to Bez’s light blue dress robes. He found himself fidgeting, moving his weight from one foot to the next as he waited for the doors to finally open. He felt Sava rub circles into the back of his hands, the action a soothing reminder for Bez. 

The door finally opened, the all white decorations of the Great Hall blinding them as they walked him, Sava mouthing a quick “It’s going to be fine” at him before they danced in. 

They started spinning once they entered, the champions and their plus ones having the honor of starting the first dance and firmly kicking the ball off. 

He and Sava waltzed, their robes spinning around them creating a swirling mix of the dark hues of Sava’s robes and the light blue of Bez’s robes. A hypnotising spiral of the two colours mixing as they continued to keep up with the tune of the music. 

“I thought you couldn’t dance.” Sava whispered to Bez as they waltzed. 

“I can’t,” Bez giggled, promptly choosing that moment to accidentally tread on Sava’s foot, “Sorry.” 

The backdrop of the ball melted away, his focus completely taken by trying to waltz without stepping on Sava’s feet anymore, despite how much the other man said that it was ok for him to step on his feet, that he danced with worse dancers when they tried to practice with each other in an empty classroom, resulting in Bez apologising profusely every time he stepped on Sava’s feet, a count that was probably in the tens by the time they decided to call it a night. 

They’d stopped once the music stopped, the hall breaking into applause before the music changed and everyone entered the dance floor, each with their own dates, twirling around the ballroom like he and Sava had just done. 

“Punch?” Sava squeezed Bez’s hand lightly, just to get his attention. 

“Yes, please.” They moved to the punch table, the ladle magically filling each of the empty cups without the need for someone to do it manually, Sava handed him a glass, and he took an experimental sip of it, “God, this sucks.” 

Sava burst out into laughter, “Right? What’d they even put in this?” 

They took their cups, filled with a drink they were probably not going to touch for the rest of the night, and tried to find somewhere quieter. The loud party that had formed on the dance floor once a popular musical act took the stage was not exactly their scene. 

They found themselves sitting on the grand staircase, the stairs shifting and moving around him, the portraits a background hum as they talked amongst themselves. 

“Did you figure out what the egg said?” 

“Right!” Bez had forgotten to check in with Sava as to the results of Sava dunking the egg into the lake, “It whispered some cryptic hint, you know like the prophecies where they always rhyme?” 

Bez laughed, “What did it say?” 

“ Come seek us where our voices sound, we cannot sing above the ground, and while you're searching, ponder this; we've taken what you'll sorely miss, an hour long you'll have to look, and recover what we took, but past an hour — the prospect's black, too late, it's gone, it won't come back.” Sava shook his head, “Weird, right?” 

“Yeah,” Bez hummed, trying to interpret what Sava said, the words and the rhymes swirling around his head, “Do you think it’ll have something to do with having to dive for treasure?” 

“Definitely.” 

They continued like that, the night moving around them as they just sat there on those steps, moving as the staircase moved. They hadn’t taken any more sips of the horrendous punch, only cradling the cups so they’d have something to hold. 

They kept talking, time passing without them keeping much track of it, and before the night ended Bez found himself leaning towards Sava. Sava met him halfway, their lips finally touching as he swore he could hear faint fireworks in the background, probably to celebrate both Christmas and the Yule Ball in one go. 

Their second kiss was much longer, both of them still sitting on those stairs, hands entangled in hair, both of them trying to continue holding onto the other. Bez broke the kiss, their breaths hot in the short space between them, the familiar flush travelling up his neck again, Sava sporting a matching flush as they finally broke apart. 

“I-” Bez worked to catch his breath, “I think we should call it for the night.” 

Sava nodded, turning towards where people were starting to make their way back to their common rooms along the ever changing staircase. 

“Good night, Bez” 

“Good night, Sava.” Bez watched briefly as Sava made his way up and out the stairs, headed to wherever the Beauxbaton carriage was being kept, and he finally made his way down for the night, the flush ever present on his neck even when he finally got all the way down to the dungeons. 

“Bez!” 

“Cele?” His friend leaned up on the wall, probably waiting for him, “What’re you doing here?” 

“A champion? The Beauxbatons champion?” Cele punched his arm lightly, “Why did I have to find out through the Yule Ball and the gossip vine and not from you!” 

Bez laughed, dodging the attacks half heartedly, “I’d been busy with work, I just… forgot.” 

“Tell me everything!” 

They spent more time like that, him and Cele sitting next to the Slytherin common room entrance, leaning up on the wall as they talked, Bez talking about how he and Sava had gotten to know each other from that first night with the dragons to now. 

“Vietti!” They were interrupted by the voice of the Hufflepuff prefect, someone probably sent to look for Cele as the extended curfew started to approach, and the night came to a close. 

That brought them back to now, Bez and Sava soaking wet and shivering walking to the tent.

“So when they said they were going to take something ‘we’d sorely miss” Sava made air quotes, the towel still clutched in his hands as he did so, “They were talking about loved ones, Marquez’s brother was in the lake,” 

“Oh. How was it? I don’t think I remember anything,” He muttered a brief thank you to that bewitched sleep, his teeth chattering as he did so. 

“I used a bubble-head charm, the merpeople fought hard,” Sava grinned at Bez, “But I fought harder.” 

Bez leaned into Sava, shoving him affectionately and rolled his eyes, “Show off.” 

“Well I had someone to show off for.” Despite the chill, Bez found himself blushing again, laughing at Sava’s flirting as they finally finished their trek to the tent. Mediwitches took them away in opposite directions as they ran a quick spell over Bez to make sure all was in order.

He found himself released from their care mere minutes later, left to sit by the side of the fire, the flames dancing in front of him as he waited for Sava to join him. He wrung out as much water as he could from his hair, the fire helping to keep the chill of the Scottish Highlands at bay. 

“Move over a bit?” 

He turned to find Sava there, making room for him on the bench placed in front of the fire, Sava having spent more time with the mediwitches making sure all his scrapes from his brief encounters with the merpeople were healed. 

They sat there, in front of the fire, side by side, and Bez felt something brush past his hand. He moved without looking away from the fire, his hand meeting Sava’s hand on the bench, their fingers curled around each other. 

Their days after the second task moved fast, the third task scheduled for the last few days of the year, the Quidditch pitch being overtaken by the preparations being put in place. They spent most of it together, walking to classes together. They would spend hours after hours just sequestered away in their little corner of the library doing homework, studying, or trying to make each other laugh with new conjurations. 

Bez remembered a lazy afternoon once, the two of them lazing on the bank of the lake on one of those rare days where they both didn’t have much to do after classes. 

“Do you want to see something cool?” 

Bez rolled his eyes, not moving from where he lay, watching the clouds pass overhead, sometimes pointing out the shapes that he noticed in the clouds. Sava would then conjure the shape he said, a simple charm that created a mini cloud, a moving one that would move as the thing it appeared to be. Earlier, Sava had made a cloud bunny, one that jumped between the two of them, bouncing around his head before it finally disappeared once the cloud dissipated, “You want to show off again?”

He turned his head, to be faced with Sava’s grin, a grin he had come to memorise by heart. 

“Watch this.” Sava whispered in his ear, before sitting up, his wand outstretched in front of him, “ Expecto Patronum !” 

The daytime made it hard to see the Patronus that formed in front of them, a panther. Bez sat up instantly, “Sava-” 

“Cool right?” The panther slunk around him, wisps of blue magic surrounding it as he scratched underneath its chin like he would any cat. It disappeared as quickly as it was summoned, Sava looking sheepish, his wand still out, “I can’t keep it up for long periods of time.” 

“It’s amazing.” Bez leaned towards him to press a quick kiss on his cheek. He’d get his own Patronus a year or so later, a small scorpion, one that would keep him company in the years to come, but that would come much later. For now, he just watched Sava blush at the kiss. He learned that Sava blushed completely, red overtaking his entire face whenever he was flustered. 

Before they knew it, the spring had turned into early summer and it was time for the third task to begin. 

Bez was in the grandstands, Cele next to him, above the Quidditch pitch. He couldn't see anything through the mess of hedges that lay below him, the field covered in them, moving, breathing, and not an omen of anything good. 

He'd been here for what felt like hours now, in reality it really couldn't have been more than 30 minutes. He'd watched as Sava ran into the maze, second behind Marc in regards to his current standing between the three champions. 

"What do you think is happening there?" He whispered to Cele, who only shrugged. They knew little to nothing of what happened inside that maze, a maze that was said to be filled with challenges that could range from beasts to magical charms. 

He wrung his hands nervously, the ability to sit still fading as the time ticked away. 

"Look!" He heard someone from further down the grandstand yell, accompanied by a point towards the far end of the maze. They could only see bursts of colors, reds and blues that lit up the hedges briefly. They looked like fireworks, brief and beautiful flashes of life, anything that told him that the people inside the maze were still going. 

He held Cele's hand, a reach for any sort of comfort as he continued to watch the maze in bated breath. A gasp rang out through the crowd at that moment, a brilliant white light going up into the air. He knew what that meant. 

Murmurs arose in the grandstands, everyone whispering to the people next to them about who might have been the one to trigger the flare. Bez felt like there was a massive weight strapped on his chest, his lungs unable to properly fill up with air, as he watched a group of professors who were kept on standby run into the maze. 

"It probably wasn't Sava," Cele whispered into his ear, "It was probably that guy from Durmstrang," 

Bez nodded, but Cele's words did little to settle the unease in his skull. Cele tried his best to calm Bez down, whispering assurances into his ear as they waited for whoever it was to be carried out by the party that had run into the maze not too long ago. Bez squeezed his eyes shut, his fingernails starting to press into the palm of his hand and leave small crescent shaped marks. He kept his eyes shut until there was another gasp, his eyes flying open, moving around rapidly as he tried to find whoever was being carried off. He couldn't see the person who laid in the stretcher clearly, only the colors of their clothes as they were taken off but it was all he needed. He recognised the blue of the tracksuit, none of the other champions wore blue. 

He stood up, pushing his way through the crowd as he tried to make it back to where he knew the medical tent was. 

Bez held his breath as he continued to make his way through the crowd, weaving and dodging. His mind was so focused on the task of just getting to Sava that he didn't even realise Cele was behind him, pushing through alongside him. 

The distance between the grandstands and the medical tent felt massive, the claustrophobic feeling not fading even after Bez had reached the empty back of the grandstands. The medical tent right in front of him, the last leg of the journey, the entrance of the tent flapping in the wind as Bez steeled himself to whatever he might find inside there.

"He's probably fine," Bez felt Cele's hand rest on his shoulder, Bez nodded finally entering the tent, Cele choosing to stay outside. 

The interior of the tent was sparsely decorated, a few cots here and there, privacy screens between the cots, and the mediwitches who milled about. He made his way deeper into the tent, heading to the only occupied cot, the person who lay there very familiar to him. 

"Bez." Sava groaned, a bandage wrapped on his right arm. 

"What happened?" Bez felt himself freeze in his steps, both relieved that it wasn't as bad as he feared, but still frozen at the sight of his boyfriend laying there on that medical cot. 

"I tripped," Sava hissed in pain as he tried to make room for Bez to sit on the cot, Bez taking the space given and grabbing Sava's nonbroken hand. Clutching onto it like a lifeline, as if Sava would fade in front of him if he let go, "They healed it, but they said I just need to rest it for a while." 

Bez curled up into Sava, both of them cramped in the cot only made for one person, but neither complained about the lack of space, both of them just happy to be curled up around each other. 

"I'm sorry." 

"For what?" 

"I wish I could've won," Sava whispered into Bez's hair, "To impress you."

"I'm just happy you're ok." Bez shifted from where he lay to look at Sava, moving upwards to kiss him gently. A kiss that tried to convey all the emotions of relief he felt that nothing more serious had happened to Sava inside that maze, Sava met him with the same energy, both of them moving slowly as they tried to work around the limited space available. He could hear fireworks again, probably celebrations at the end of the task, the winner declared between the three, but he could care less. 

"Bez, are you ok-" Cele barged in, stopping both of them in their tracks, "Oh. I'll just-" 

Cele left as quickly as he came, leaving Bez and Sava to stare at each other before promptly bursting into peals of laughter, Bez's head coming to a rest on Sava's chest and listening to the steady drum of the other's heartbeat. 

That's how the mediwitches found them when they came by to discharge Sava. They were curled up around each other, both making themselves fit in that small cot whatever way they could. 

The other schools left after the Triwizard Tournament concluded, the closing ceremony completed and he found himself facing Sava in front of the Beauxbatons carriage. 

"Write to me?" 

"I will." Sava left after he pressed a kiss on Bez's hand, a mirror of the time they had encountered each other in that potions classroom all those months ago. He stood there for a while after, watching as the carriage took off into the sky and back towards France. 

Sava made good on his promise, the pair keeping constant communication throughout the summer, Sava’s owl finding him even when he was with his family back in Italy. The temperature of the Italian coastline a stark difference to the Scottish Highlands where he spent most of the year. 

“Who’s writing to you this much?” His sister peered into the letter he had open, the latest from Sava that chronicled how he was about to shift into entering the ‘Bureau de la Justique Magique’ a step towards becoming an Auror, something that he knew Sava had been studying for in those last couple of years at Beauxbatons, the two spending a lot of time talking about the future and whatever plans they had for the future. 

He quickly folded the letter, “Mind your business.” 

His sister blew a raspberry in his direction and he met her with one in kind. 

These letters didn’t stop after the summer ended, Sava’s owl almost becoming a permanent fixture at the Hogwarts Owlery during his seventh year. Letters about how he was faring, asking after Bez’s N.E.W.Ts, and so on forth in both directions. Cele and Pecco had stopped commenting on the presence of the large eagle-owl that dropped letter after letter and packages on his spot at the Great Hall. 

This continued for years after he graduated. Both of them having established footholds in their respective occupations, Sava having risen through the ranks at the Bureau des Aurors, and Bez travelling around Europe splitting his time between Romania, Sweden, and Norway at the various dragon sanctuaries.

Bez was greeted by the sight of a Patronus, a beautiful blue creature, translucent and ethereal in front of him. 

"The smugglers are moving again, rumors say they've moved east, somewhere between the borders of Bulgaria and Romania. Some witnesses have said they have cages of occamies, and potentially a dragon." He heard Sava's voice from the mouth of the panther that sulked around him as it talked, "How the fuck they got a dragon no one knows, Marco..." The Patronus suddenly stern in its appearance, ethereal as ever but its mouth was a grim line, "Be careful." 

"I will." He spoke to the Patronus, disappearing as quickly as its appearance. "Expecto Patronum." 

He felt the familiar feeling of his scorpion crawling its way up his arm and resting on his shoulder, "Tell him that I will, and that I'll update him on how it goes later, and that there's also rumors of dark artifacts north of my current location, a cursed tomb in the deep recesses of Sweden if the drunkard I played cards with can be trusted." He felt the scorpion about to leave, about to leave a trail of light as it left to seek out Sava, but he had one more thing he wanted to say, "Tell him that he still owes me a cafe date on that new place in Place Cachee." 

The scorpion sensed that he was done, and it left, crawling through the forest and headed to wherever Sava currently was. He watched it go, the only constant communication between the pair being the letters that flew across landscapes with Sava's owl, and the Patronuses that would travel between their locations wherever and whenever they felt the need for faster contact.

They tried to meet up whenever they could, both of them choosing points where they could meet up, like when Bez found himself back in England and Sava crossed the channel to meet him there. It wasn’t often enough for either of them but they made do with what they could. That cafe date at Place Cachee happened, but it took a while for it to finally happen.

By this point it’d been years since they had first met, another Triwizard Tournament being hosted at Hogwarts this year. 

It felt so strange that time passed that fast. 

It’d been five years, five years since Bez was sitting in those grandstands hands wringing in worry as he watched a maze so dense he couldn’t see anything inside it. He received an owl that day, an owl that clutched a small package in its talons, a package the size of a ring box. 

They’d talked about it when they last met, the wizarding world always balancing on the precipice between peace and conflict. In their lines of work especially, something like that official status would help both of them, benefits shared between the pair. 

Bez had remembered a moment, only a year out of school when he got another owl. This one brought bad tidings, a raid gone wrong it said, and it gave an address to a hospital in the heart of France. He’d gone immediately, most of his belongings left behind as he flooed in from the nearest fireplace. 

“Lorenzo Savadori?” He’d rushed up to the front desk, the hospital bustling with life around him, mediwitches running this way and that. 

“Family of the patient?” 

“Uh-” He’d found himself lost for words, he didn’t know what to say to the receptionist, the words dying in his throat before someone called for him. 

“Marco Bezzecchi?” 

“Yes.” His head snapped to where his name was called, an Auror standing at the hallway. 

“He’s with us.” The Auror told the receptionist before gesturing for Bez to follow him. He was taken deeper into the hospital before he was finally in front of a door, deja vu settling in his bones from a year ago when he had done this during the Triwizard Tournament. 

The memory that stuck with him once he found out Sava was ok was the lack of words to describe what they were at that exact moment, he didn’t know what to say to that receptionist, if he should’ve been completely honest at the risk of not being allowed up into Sava’s hospital room.

It’d been one of the things that both of them agreed on, that marriage would sort that out effectively, no more being forced to wait in waiting rooms because he wasn’t family, or having to stick to the limited visitation hours. 

He tore open the packaging to the ring box, revealing a small velvet box, a silver ring decorated with a dragon curled around a blue gem nestled inside it. He put it on, sending a quick Patronus out with only one word in that message, “Yes.” 

When they had finally met again in person, mere days after that package, Bez had run into Sava’s arms, being spun around in a hug in the middle of Place Cachee. Tiny fireworks being set off from the nearby toy store, the bursts of light not holding any of their luminance like they would at night, but they were still there. The fireworks that had followed them throughout their relationship. 

He received a letter not long after that, both of them still trying to find a time that worked for both of them. The letter invited him back to Hogwarts, to help them wrangle the dragons that were being used in the Triwizard Tournament again, and he thought that it would be perfect. 

He sent a message to Sava shortly after, asking him to meet him where they had first met. Where they had first quite literally stumbled upon each other. 

He heard footsteps behind him, mud crunching beneath boots that were not made for the wet weather of the Scottish highlands on any given Autumn month. 

Bez looked away from the meek Chinese Fireball, smaller than the others and much more lithe but also more tame. She spent most of the hours he had spent with her sleeping or curled up around herself. These days he found himself also curled up in her side for a quick midday nap whenever it called for it. 

"Dragons for the first task again?" 

"Second actually." 

Sava laughed, finally meeting up with Bez next to the dragon, wrapping him into a kiss that felt years overdue. Bez could hear the fireworks bloom across the sky in the distance, shooting out of the spires of Hogwarts and lighting up the night as they celebrated the opening ceremony of the next Triwizard Tournament. 

The colors lit up their faces, Sava's forehead resting on Bez's forehead, both of them just relaxing in their shared warmth amidst the chill of the highlands. He could feel Sava's breath, entangling with his own to create another heat source. One that only they shared. 

For a hot second his memory reminded him of another time he found himself illuminated by the moving lights of magical fireworks. 

By now it had been 5 years ago, the months right before he had returned to Hogwarts and met Sava, it was him, Cele, Pecco, and the others cheering at the top of their lungs from the spectator stands as the Italian Quidditch team entered the semi-finals. Fireworks lit up in greens, whites, and reds, moving across the night sky as celebrations echoed across the grandstands for the Italian fans. Banners unfurled, pops sounded across several different sections as people started lighting flares, a celebration of an event that rarely happened anymore. 

Throughout all of this, he remembered grabbing the nearest person to him, celebrating together without ever knowing each other, a shared joy of watching their national team make it this far. He remembered looking at the person he had grabbed in the quickest of glances, black curls, tall, and these dark green eyes that were brightened by the green firework that went off near them. 

He found himself entranced in that moment, before he remembered the moment breaking as Cele came back to drag him off to go meet Vale near the lockers. 

Though the Italian team didn't make it further than semi-finals that year, he was struck by how clear that memory was, a memory that felt almost reflected throughout the years at different moments of their life. 

One could even say that the fireworks felt like beacons that would always lead Bez back to Sava.