I actually do remember when loving Fox was a full-time job and defending him like my life depended on it. Sometimes I wonder where the people who love him came from but AO3 and Quotev and stuff was trench warfare with how hard i was fighting to make people like him 😭 like how is he popular now when like. Four years ago even. People hated his guts.
Leander Prewett wasn't built for much, most certainly not for flying or dueling. However, when the new fifth year surprises him with a change in the crossed wands matchups, he has to look elsewhere for help.
Leander Prewett doesn't have friends, but he has a Hector Fawley, and maybe that's better.
✨✨✨
“Can’t breathe?”
Leander Prewett stared at the sky, his chest rising and falling with every strangled breath he took. He truly wasn’t built for flying, but he needed to get it right or he’d never make it to passing his OWLs correctly.
Hector Fawley stood a few feet away breathing heavily in his own right, but it was not from falling from his broom and knocking the air out of himself. No, he was simply laughing at Leander.
“Why do I hang out with you?” Leander wondered aloud.
“I’m gorgeous, talented, powerful, and a pure blood?” Hector snorted, leaning his chin on the floating broom.
He wasn’t wrong. Leander was no stranger to the looks they got when they were out here. Or, at least, out here and not falling from brooms like crippled children. They weren’t looking at him though except to laugh, or to ask about the next Summoner’s Court match. Hector held the attention of the women. He was tall, dark haired, and had the high cheekbones to match, with the charisma of a tortured poet.
They weren’t friends.
Leander wasn’t sure he had friends.
“You’re rather insufferable, if I’m to be honest,” Leander muttered, standing finally and rubbing his back. Grass fell in flakes alongside flecks of dirt that smeared the back of his robes by this point.
He wondered vaguely if he was wasting his time. He wasn’t planning on doing anything big in the wizarding world. Perhaps a nice, comfortable internship with Gringotts before setting out with his own practice. He passed arithmancy last year. Maybe if he could pass ancient runes this year than he would be okay. He didn’t need flying.
Of course, right as he considered it, Everett Clopton and Audrey Kingston were touching down a few yards away.
Everett was a busy body. He was always in someone’s business, and he never considered doing things for someone other than himself. Not until Audrey, at least. He’d taken her on a flight around the school and the grounds the first day of class she’d been there for.
Audrey was nothing like Everett. She was in Gryffindor, had joined them as a fifth year, and everyone loved her. Well, with the exception of Headmaster Black, Duncan Hobhouse, and perhaps one or two others.
Leander wasn’t sure how to act around her. He’d spent his whole life desperately fighting to fit in, trying everything he could to forge himself into a decent and proper Gryffindor worthy of the name. He wasn’t sure how to react to having someone so effortlessly become what he had longed to be for most of his life.
“Are you listening?”
He looked at Hector then, tearing his eyes away from Audrey, Clopton, and any thoughts he had.
Hector huffed, running a hand over his slicked back hair. “I asked if you’re going to challenge Kingston to another Summoner’s Court match.”
“Oh,” Leander said, thinking for a moment. He seemed to be doing that more often as of late. Thinking. “I might. I am getting rather tired of losing every time though.”
“Maybe you should just, I don’t know, win?” Hector laughed.
Leander decided he had been around Hector Fawley enough for one day.
The walk back to the Gryffindor common room was a long one. In his mind, he could apparate inside the castle, but he knew it was a foolish daydream. Not only was he only a fifth year with no capability of properly apparating within a confined space, but the wards also put in place would never be lifted. Not in his lifetime at least.
He stopped in the boy’s lavatory down the hall from Gryffindor Tower, leaning over the sink as he looked in the mirror.
His bright red hair was combed back, strands falling forward on his face, his dark eyes were tired, and his freckles stood out against his pale skin. However, when he stepped back, it would be broad shoulders on a lanky body that tripped over its own feet. He wasn’t built for much at all. Definitely not for flying.
He splashed water on his face, using one wet hand to slide his loose hair back. He could almost hear that voice telling him not to bother as he stepped out of the lavatory.
“Oh, hello, Prewett.” Audrey nodded her head to him as she passed. Her dark hair curled to her shoulders, the candlelight in the hallway glinting off it and the lenses of her glasses.
He almost paid her no mind, but now they were walking in quiet alliance, side by side.
“Kingston,” he said, even as his hands clenched at his sides.
Audrey glanced at him, her own hands holding her books tightly. “Are you alright?”
“What?”
“Your face is wet. Have you been upset?”
Part of him greatly disliked her blunt ways of speaking. Why would she even wonder if he was upset? They weren’t friends. He didn’t have friends.
He looked at his feet, putting one foot in front of the other a bit more forcefully than necessary. “No. My hair was in a mess. I had to fix it.”
She laughed softly, looking up at him. “I mean, you have a tuft just sticking out on the side. If you want me to fix—”
“Yes.” His face was burning. Had he just agreed to that?
Her hand reached up and smoothed over the side of his head, forcing part of his hair to lie down. “I like your hair. It’s really soft.”
Leander Prewett wasn’t much, in his own opinion, but if he decided in that moment to put even more effort into his hair, it was no one else’s business. His face felt like it was on fire, his ears were positively gone, and his hands tingled uncomfortably.
“Sorry,” she said quietly, backing back up and putting her hands back in her pockets.
He wanted to tell her it was alright, that he didn’t mind her touching his hair like that, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak. For once, his voice seemed to fail him when he actually needed it.
“Are you coming to the crossed wands match tomorrow?” Her voice cut through his thoughts. Her eyes watched the stairs as they ascended slowly.
Normally, Leander would have thought of her as an idiot for doubting that he would be there. He had to battle for his spot in the finals, after all.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked.
Audrey frowned. “Well, you’re facing Sebastian and I with Imelda—”
“I am not!” Leander exclaimed. “I’m supposed to be with Eric going against Nellie and Charlotte!”
Perhaps it was a mistake on her part. She didn’t make many—he would know, after all. He paid attention to her enough for it—but she could’ve made one. Just one. He couldn’t face her and Sebastian. The little voice in his head returned then, whispering his past failures against Sebastian in particular. The Slytherin was on a pedestal he couldn’t reach.
He wouldn’t win. Not with Imelda. He would need someone stronger in order to have even a hope of beating the two reigning champions. He needed Fawley, but he’d dropped crossed wands in their third year after growing bored of it. He’d been champion until Sebastian ousted him that same year. He’d have to settle for next best: Nellie Ogspire. But the girl in question hated him. Hector Jenkins wasn’t bad, but he’d be facing Nellie and Charlotte then beside Natsai Onai.
“Leander,” Audrey said quietly, resting a hand on his arm. She tugged him through the portrait hole. Had they already reached the common room? He hadn’t even noticed.
He looked around the common room. He could risk something though. He could put Imelda on the backburner and find a different partner for the match. He could find someone and invite them to duel with him so long as he sponsored their knowing about the dueling club and they didn’t say anything to Black. Weasley, perhaps. He was a force to be reckoned with, but he was unpredictable.
“Would you like to trade partners?” Audrey asked suddenly before they split ways up the stairs. “I can duel with Imelda, and you can work with Sebastian.”
Leander found himself shaking his head despite his nerves. He wouldn’t work with the cheating prat. “No. I can win.”
“In your dreams, Prewett,” Audrey laughed and walked up the girl’s stairs, grinning as she shook her head.
Maybe it was in his dreams. Maybe it was all his imagination to hope to win. But he knew he would try, and to do that he needed Hector Fawley.
--
The next day was a storm of chaos. Leander was prepared, or he thought he was at the very least. Hector was—well, not his friend, but they knew each other better than most people knew Leander.
Approaching him wasn’t even the major issue, it was convincing him. Hector had dropped when it got boring and he finally lost, but he could come back to just to beat Sebastian and Audrey. He wouldn’t do it just because it was Leander asking though. Nobody did anything just because it was Leander.
Charms ended, leaving him looking like a lost fool waiting for Hector outside of the classroom. He never did that. He could feel the questioning look Audrey shot him as she left the room beside Natty with Sebastian and Ominis following closely behind.
Hector Fawley left the room after another moment, grinning and talking excitedly about something to one of his Ravenclaw friends.
“Fawley,” Leander said, stepping forward to interrupt. Not the best move, but Hector didn’t seem to mind.
“Prewett. You up and left yesterday. What’s with the face?” Hector waved bye to his friend.
Leander steadied his nerves. He’d prepared for this, hadn’t he?
“Crossed wands. One match. I need a partner.” He could practically see his voice shaking in the air.
Hector’s eyes widened slightly, but his head shook barely. “I can’t do that, Prewett.”
“You’re the former champion! We can beat Sallow and Kingston!”
Hector stopped and actually seemed to think about it for a moment. “Kingston, you say? Didn't take her as someone Sallow would spend time around. Much less use as a partner.”
Leander chose to refrain from telling him about how she’d beat him more times than he could count.
“I suppose one match wouldn’t be terrible,” Hector said, sighing as if he was bored.
Leander frowned. He was happy Hector accepted his offer, but it felt like he was being handed it. He’d been ready to argue, to fight to prove himself to Hector so they could win. The easy agreement wasn’t something he’d expected.
He watched Hector leave down the hall, already swishing his wand and humming a tune to himself. He could feel the sense of unease welling up in his heart. It was then that he remembered why he didn’t hang out with Hector often.
Hector was the oldest child of three. He was a pure blood, charismatic, and acted as the heir to the Fawley family and fortune was expected to. He was a bigot, yes, and a racist towards muggles and muggle-borns, but Leander had known him since they were kids. He’d watched the other boy grow from the frail, spoilt child to a young man who held himself with pride and dignity, however misplaced it was.
Hector Fawley was handed everything. Every ounce of wealth, every bit of love, every fawning look. It was all given freely. Hector didn’t suffer on a broom and struggle to breathe when he was laughed at. Hector didn’t crave belonging in a house that never felt like his own and make himself a coward for it. Hector didn’t have to want for anything more than what he had. Everyone adored him. Even the muggle-born students he spewed prejudice towards would fawn over him for a moment of his attention.
Leander had two older brothers. He was the youngest of the three. He had to work for his parents’ attention, had to prove he was worthy to be spoken to, to be spoken of. How often had he fought his brothers for his mother’s good graces, or his father’s approval? He’d never descended into the pit of political intrigue the pure blood families paraded around with, but it was his family whether he acknowledged that part or not. Chester, the eldest, would be subjected to that pit of vipers.
Fighting for everything just to be handed nothing versus being handed everything and never fighting for it himself. The weight of comparison and jealousy ate away at Leander every moment he spent with Hector. They couldn’t be more different.
Perhaps that was why he felt the seed of hatred sprouting in his chest. Not for Hector, no. Never for Hector. It was for himself, for having to ask the other boy for his help.
He turned the corner to head down the stairs from the tower and found Audrey watching him carefully.
“Fawley was champion before Sebastian and me, yes?” she asked.
Leander gave her a simple nod. Had she been there the entire time he’d spent mulling over his inadequacies? Had she seen through him like she did so many others? Would she even back out—no, he reminded himself, that wasn’t Kingston. She would fight for the win. Just like he would.
Audrey nodded and flicked her eyes over his neatly combed hair. “I’m excited to duel the both of you. It’ll be a good match.”
“You won’t be saying that when Fawley runs you into a corner,” he said defensively. Fawley? He should be using himself as a hitting point, not his partner. When had he ever relied on another person to supply his win?
Audrey smiled. “Sebastian’s going after him. I’m supposed to watch you.”
Oh.
His brain felt like it froze over. He’d lost to Sebastian in every duel, sure, but he knew how Sebastian acted and worked. He’d only dueled Audrey twice. One Audrey had won, but the other had ended prematurely after Lucan had been hit in the head with a stray basic cast.
“Well, I’ll still be doing my best.” He looked down the hall, avoiding her gaze. Had she always looked like that when looking at him?
She laughed and it was probably a sound he’d pay to hear again. He didn’t pay for things he could work for, though. He felt his chest ache vaguely, a sense of something he hadn’t felt since Samantha Dale laughed at him over an invitation to Hogsmeade.
“I’ll win,” he said again quietly, glancing at her once again.
She nodded and grinned. “You can try.”
“Trying is what makes it happen!” he insisted. Did she not believe he could do it?
“We’ll see, Prewett. We’ll see.”
His eyes settled on a stray hair falling on her forehead as his jaw tensed. He couldn’t respond. This was twice now that his voice failed him in front of her.
Audrey watched him quietly, her head tilted slightly so her eyes caught the light from the window across the hall. It was like she knew how captivating she was and used it against him. Was it just he who got lost trying to talk to her? No, it couldn’t be. Sallow most certainly had to feel the effects of it. He spent the most time with her after all.
She nudged his arm, knocking him from his thoughts once again. “Want to walk to herbology together?”
He couldn’t pinpoint when he’d begun craving her attention, but it felt as if he had never been without it in that moment. He wasn’t even sure why he did it. He just did. It was Audrey Kingston. Perhaps that was enough for any explanation.
--
If he looked at the sky, he knew it would be nearing dark. Crossed wands was set to be at around nine. Lucan and Sallow would be setting up the wards at eight. It was only six thirty, though, and he was already in the clocktower courtyard.
“Once more,” Hector demanded, holding up his wand with a wild grin on his face.
Leander shouted and sent off another blast of Incendio only for it to be deflected by Hector again. The other boy snapped his wand, Stupefy spiraling at Leander in retaliation. He dodged quickly, regaining his footing easily and raising his wand defensively with Protego before casting his own Stupefy.
“We need to rest before we duel the champions,” Hector snickered, already relishing in a win he hadn’t been given yet.
Leander breathed deeply and collapsed on the edge of the fountain. He had removed his school robes earlier and left it lying on the steps. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and groaned at the cool wind hitting his neck.
“We have to win, Hector.”
“We will.”
He was so sure of it that Leander almost let himself feel sure too. He knew though. He knew Kingston was going to wipe the floor with him. She was more forceful. For every ounce of stamina he had on her, she had two more of power behind her spells. It was insanity, and it drove him nearly to his breaking point. He could work on his power for the rest of his life and never come close to the level she was at.
It was silent until Hector coughed. “My family wants me to go into politics after we graduate.” It wasn’t much of a conversation, but it was something. He was taking his mind off the duel.
Somewhere, a six-year-old Hector Fawley had told Leander Prewett that he wanted to be an auror one day. He’d held that dream until... well, until now, if Leander was correct. Hector wasn’t what Leander imagined when he thought of the ministry. If anything, he could see someone like Eric going into the ministry. Eric, Natty, even Imelda if she weren’t so focused on quidditch. Hector wasn’t that person. He was practical, dripping in the charisma that aurors exuded when they were seen in Hogsmeade on missions. He supposed that was good for ministry workers too, but Hector? It was inconceivable.
“I’m sure you’ll do wonderful,” Leander said, restraining himself from spewing everything he was thinking.
“I’m not sure. I’m a little old fashioned, Lee,” Hector snorted, staring at the sky. “Everyone knows it. I wouldn’t go very far in politics if I don’t forget that.”
“Then change it.” Leander shrugged, but his mind stayed on the nickname. He hadn’t heard Hector call him Lee since they were kids.
Hector nodded. “I’m trying. There’s a muggle born in my dorm. Mahendra. We’re... getting along.”
Leander knew better than to ask what he meant by getting along by the tug Hector did to the collar of his shirt, readjusting his tie without looking at him. He wasn’t too sure if he was right but the slightly bothered look on Hector’s face was enough to spell it out.
“At least you’re trying. Maybe you won’t be intolerable in the ministry.”
Hector looked at the sky and took a deep breath, his hands still fiddling with his tie. “I don’t know, Lee. I feel like I’m going to be trapped.”
Leander felt his heart thudding in his chest. Hector and he weren’t friends. They hadn’t considered each other friends since they were kids. He hadn’t heard Hector talk about himself in such a way since then either. Perhaps things would change. Perhaps not.
He looked down at his own hands. Long, slender, and pale, his hands weren’t made for dueling. He was waging a fool’s war thinking he could win this fight.
“Maybe you’ll be fine.”
“If I do go into the ministry, I think I’d ask you to go with me.”
Well, that was unexpected. He looked up at Hector again, finding the other boy already looking at him silently. He wasn’t sure what Hector expected him to say. They weren’t friends, certainly not the kind to follow each other into a specific work force. Hector looked at him though with the quiet contemplation that he had once had while looking at the maps in his father’s study.
“I might look into Gringotts. Something with banking, perhaps.” Leander felt the sudden decision weigh heavy on his tongue. Yes, he’d once dreamed of being an auror or part of the ministry, but what kid didn’t?
Hector nodded, looking away from Leander then. “I’m ruining the mood. Forgive me. Spending time with the muggle-born has made my brain mushy.”
“I think you’d do well in the ministry. People like you.” Leander clenched his hands, feeling the fabric of his pants under his palms.
Hector glanced his way before pulling his tie off completely and folding it carefully.
When he walked inside, it was a quiet strike on Leander’s brain that made him understand that if Hector Fawley asked him to follow him to the ministry, he might good and well do it.
--
His protego shattered with the force of Kingston’s diffindo. His hand flew back but he kept his grip on his wand. At least the shield had deflected most of the spell.
Hector wasn’t faring much better against Sebastian. A scrape along his jaw already had blood trailing down his neck, staining his white shirt red. He’d taken the front end of a depulso and had hit the ground hard.
“Still planning on winning?” Audrey grinned, shooting off four sporadic basic casts at Leander and laughing as she stepped closer.
For all his thoughts could consider, Audrey and Hector were more alike than they would ever likely acknowledge. They both had a fire in their veins for dueling, for the rush of adrenaline and threat of danger.
It was hard not to lose himself in the rush of dueling himself, but watching Hector duel was another experience entirely. It was like Imelda on the quidditch pitch, or Weasley with potions. Hector Fawley was born for dueling, and it was no surprise he’d held the champion title for four years. Sebastian Sallow was a hard opponent, but it brought a red tinge of ambition to Hector’s face that reminded him of Hector’s family.
Leander threw himself to the side, snapping his wand out and shouting, “Expelliarmus!”
Audrey’s wand flew from her hand, but Sallow was there, his body shielding her as she retrieved it. Her hand lingered on Sallow’s arm a moment too long for Leander to consider it a friendly gesture. How peculiar.
“Bombarda!” Sallow shouted, extending his want towards Hector. The blast never hit.
The floor exploded near to Leander and sent him flying back against the wall. His breath left him as his chest exploded in burning pain, but he could see Hector’s eyes tilt his direction even as he cast protego around himself.
It was only a moment longer before Audrey’s confringo hit Hector in his shield at the right angle, sending him crumpling to the ground as well. His head hung low, loose strands of hair falling in his face and sticking with the sweat dripping to the floor. He wasn’t the epidemy of luxury and grandeur then, he was a mess and a ruined image of what he used to be.
Leander could feel the weight of losing hit him, but it didn’t hurt quite as bad as it usually did. He’d seen something better.
Hector had a light in his heart again, a fire restoked to the blaze it had been before Sebastian Sallow took up a hobby. It was bright, blinding and striking into Leander’s eyes like he’d never seen the sun before.
Leander didn’t have friends.
But he had Hector.
He couldn’t help himself from sitting on the ground, watching Hector stand straight, breathing heavily and blinking slowly with a hand pushing his sweaty hair back.
Maybe, he thought, he wouldn’t mind it.
Hector Fawley was by no means his friend, but Leander Prewett would follow him to the grave if he asked him to.
i am sick and tired of seeing the rare time that bertholdt is mention on tiktok being just “oh ahahahaha annie didn’t like him and armin stole his girl omg so sad :( he must be heartbroken” there is more to his character than being obsessed with annie (which he wasn’t…he just cared about her. he got angry when the scouts said they were torturing her bc…he cares. and yeah he technically does have a crush but yk), in fact that’s such a small part of his character it’s ridiculous how that’s the only thing people care about.
he was such a kind soul, he never judged, he knew that the world was cruel and he knew that no one was truly the monsters. he could have been friends with the scouts because he wasn’t rude. he didn’t hold a grudge. like. guys. please
also realistically he wouldn’t gaf about aruani. if u really do think he loved annie then he might be a bit sad but that’s it. he’s probably just hanging in the afterlife with his dad guys cmon.
need everyone on tiktok to be strapped down and forced to watch that scene in s2 where bertholdt has a breakdown because some of you are still convinced he’s an apathetic monster
Francis Forever by Mitski is just Luke after the Battle of Yavin, going to sleep in the mostly empty room except for him and Wedge and having to face the reality that the adrenaline and everything is over for the time being and his family, Ben, and Biggs are all gone in a matter of days.
finally watched Gladiator with my dad and… meh. Didn’t hate it. Wasn’t a favorite. But it was good. Commodus was an interesting character. BUT THEY KILLED MY MAN HAGEN. WHY DO ALL MY FAVES DIE?!
