ehhdgarbones:
“Ah, well, you know me, Luddie,” replied Edgar grinning under the knuckle that the older wizard tapped to his cheek, just under the half healed cut there. “I’ve got a nose for trouble and not a lot by way of restraint. Wouldn’t be me if I was keeping to myself when there’s sport to be had, now would it?”
Still beaming at his old friend, Edgar nudged the other man back a step with an open palm to the center of his chest. A chuckle rumbled out of him and was stifled by a drag of smoke into his lungs. Perhaps it should’ve been strange, the friendship he had with Ludo. Bagman and Mel’s breakup had been hard, though sometimes Edgar thought that it’d been hardest on him most of all. He’d always admired and respected Ludo, and cringed when he recalled an eleven year old version of himself trailing after a young Ludo like a puppy nipping at his heels.
The truth was that Ludo was a bit of a role model for a young, bright eyed and bushy tailed Edgar Bones. He was a legend on the quidditch pitch, well liked, charming like he’d never known anyone else to be. Eleven year old Edgar wanted very much to be just like Ludovic Bagman, and that desire didn’t exactly fade in the years that followed. Playing quidditch with him and his sister were the best experiences he had on the pitch. When he and Amelia had gone their separate ways… a small part of him had been afraid it’d mean the end of his relationship to Bagman, too.
Then his parents were murdered and suddenly that didn’t seem to matter as much. Funny how brutally losing one’s parents had a tendency to reorganize one’s priorities. Regardless, he was glad that they hadn’t completely lost touch throughout the years. Even if it’d been a long time since they’d last spoken.
His smile resurfaced and the smoke in Edgar’s lungs vacated through his nostrils in twin plumes of grey. He chuckled when Ludo punched lightly at his shoulder. “I am always ready for the pitch, Bagman,” retorted the younger blond with a grin and another hit of his cigarette. “Pickup games keep me nimble. Can’t say the same for you though. When’s the last time you pushed some iron instead of parchment, old man?”
Wrapping an arm around Ludo’s neck he drew the man in close and used his other hand to pat his still firm middle. Filter pinched at the corner of his mouth, Edgar mumbled, “Its been a long time since then, Luddie. I’d like to see if you can keep up with me now.” For all his teasing, he was really just giving Ludo a hard time. The man was still fighting fit, even if his new cushy office job had him sitting on his arse more often than not.
The cigarette was pinched from his possession and Ludo nursed some nicotine into his lungs. Edgar smirked at the other wizard, shaking his head and chuckling softly to himself. There was a challenging glint to his eyes when he countered the man’s wager. “You know my policy on taking losing bets, Bagman? You should consider employing the same policy on making them.” Cocking his eyebrow, Edgar prompted, “Five galleons says I can do twenty push ups faster than you can.” His grin was a clear what do you say, Bagman? We got a bet or what? The challenge didn’t need words, not when it shown in his eyes.
Chuckling, Ludo shook his head. “Made you a mighty fine beater, didn’t it?” he replied with amusement in his tone, reminiscing momentarily on the several times a younger Edgar had gotten caught up in his emotions during games. The young Hufflepuff, green as ever, would shed his guards and challenged the opposing team to a fistfight when there was slightest hint of dirty play. “You’ve always been quite the scrapper. Glad to see you’re still holding your own as well as ever."
A burst of a laugh left him as Edgar nudged him. He stepped back, but swayed forward and resettled into his spot again, a fond smile still playing on his face. Ludo had watched little Edgar Bones, awkward but kind, grow up at Hogwarts during his early years. But after the split with Amelia, he hadn’t seen either of them as much as he really should have - something he continued to regret to this day. He had gotten so engrossed in his new life as an up-and-coming professional quidditch player, stuck in the limelight, and suddenly feeling incredibly comfortable with his new life. His past at Hogwarts would always be held near and dear to his heart, but the bright and loud adventure he’s dove into swept him up in its undercurrent.
It wasn’t until years later that he’d gotten the kick to the chest he needed. The deaths of Mr. and Mrs. Bones pulled him from the addictive high of his celebrity, even if only for a moment. Ludo had attended the funeral, uncharacteristically uncertain and quiet about his presence there. It had been too long since he’d seen either Amelia or Edgar, and it was a shock to see how much had changed. Yellow flowers in hand, and unusually few words on his tongue, he realized he didn’t know either of them anymore. It was this that still stung in his heart whenever he saw them, the regret and guilt of having not been there like he should have been.
“Oh ho ho,” he sounded, brow lifting at the teasing, “Really about to poke the badger, aren’t you, Bones. Things never do change with you.” He chuckled, though there was the distinct shine of a challenge behind his eyes. An arm had wrapped around his neck, and his own promptly tucked behind Edgar’s back in a half-hug, half-grapple as he snatched away the cigarette. “Mm,” he hummed as smoke filled his chest, “Now where’s the fun in that?” he asked, curls of grey escaping from between his teeth as he gave Edgar a wink. He’d always love the thrill of winning a less-than-likely bet, or even just the excitement of making someone squirm as they considered a wager. He considered the challenge, eyes narrowing at the other man before he took the cigarette and returned it to the corner of Edgar’s lips. “Make it 25 and we’ve got ourselves a wager, Bones,” he replied, playful challenge in his voice as he unhooked his arm from behind the other man so he could slip off his overcoat. It was beginning to feel a hell of a lot like old times.
