#crgilderoy

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edgar bones & gilderoy lockhart // the playlist

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listen here

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e d g a r  b o n e s  &  g i l d e r o y  l o c k h a r t 

“It is better to have ten skeletons in your closet, than to walk with no bones.” 

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would it be a sin? | edgar & gilderoy

Before the first instance of ‘just dinner’, neither wizard particularly expected their meeting to lead anywhere. After was an entirely different story. It was a strange feeling; to go your whole life without being aware of someone’s existence and then have them suddenly consuming your thoughts. Every time Edgar picked up a pencil his hand began to unconsciously sketch the strong features painted on the inside of his eyelids. He had only seen Gilderoy a handful of times, and yet he had him almost entirely memorised. Still, he hadn’t been able to truly do the man justice. It was as though he was carved by Michelangelo himself, with eyes as blue and complex as Van Gogh’s Starry Night. To call him a work of art would be an understatement. 

So ‘just dinner’ became several ‘just lunches’ and a few ‘just breakfasts’. They took any available opportunity to see one another and tried to pretend as though even that in itself didn’t mean anything. The constant blushing and stealing glances was decidedly harder to ignore, but somehow they were managing. It was a friendship that desperately called for something more, undertones of more than just sexual tension bubbling under the surface. 

Or that was how it had been before Cassandra. Before the Triad. Before Edgar had to listen to the words ‘no feelings’ until they rang around his ears like sirens because he already had feelings. His desire for that something more with Gilderoy only seemed to increase after that, until it was impossible to feign obliviousness to his own heart any longer. It was only when a package arrived filled with nearly two hundred copies of Gilderoy’s book that Edgar began to wonder if his feelings were perhaps reciprocated. 

Lost in the haze of his painting, Edgar nearly missed the sharp knock at his apartment door. He wasn’t very used to visitors so his ears hadn’t become tuned into the sound quite yet. As he made his way to answer it, his stomach fluttered involuntarily. It had to be him. Edgar’s ears flushed red at the thought of their relationship progressing to the stage where they could visit one another unannounced without it seeming odd. The grin that grew on his face at the sight of Gilderoy was impossible to resist. “Hey.” He greeted warmly, if awkwardly. Edgar still struggled with the social aspect of their thing sometimes. “It’s good to see you. Uh, come in. Please?” He waved the wizard in, paintbrush still in hand. “I was just doing some painting, it’s-”  It was then that his eyes widened considerably as he remembered exactly what he had been working on. The portrait was innocent enough, certainly no nudity to speak of, but the emotion reflected in every stroke was hard to miss. “Um, well, it’s you”

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EDGAR BONES & GILDEROY LOCKHART | BONES IN MY CLOSET

“well, summer slipped us underneath her tongue our days and nights are perfumed with obsession half of my wardrobe is on your bedroom floor use our eyes, throw our hands overboard”

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midnight murmurs | edgar&gilderoy

18 July

Edgar’s flat, Muggle London 

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How ironic, Edgar thought, that the first time in months he hadn't actually been actively looking for his sister should be the one he found her. He knew that image, the one of her bloodied, bruised and very nearly broken, would forever be ingrained into his memory. Being an artist, he had a keen eye for detail and for once in his life he began to wish he didn't. It was a relief to have her safe, of course it was, but Edgar still couldn't rest. She wasn't the same person anymore. Neither was he, but it still hurt. It ached to look into such familiar eyes and yet feel so disconnected.

Before her disappearance, it was Amelia who grounded him. As twins they shared a special bond, something untouchable. But now, now Edgar had a new anchor tying him back to Earth. Gilderoy Lockhart entered his life unexpectedly and altered it forever. Looking into the other wizard's eyes was like taking a fresh breath of air that filled him up with hope and joy and warmth. Curled up on the couch, Edgar held his hand tightly, softly exhaling. "I don't know if I'll be able to sleep tonight." He murmured tiredly, mostly to himself. "I feel like I could sleep for a thousand years and yet I cannot bear the thought of closing my eyes."

Finding Amelia didn't feel real, even though he could hear her soft snores coming from his second bedroom, and he couldn't relax anyway. Cassandra was still missing. A war was still raging on around them. Edgar should have been happy, but he wasn't. The only thing preventing a breakdown was the warm body pressed against his. "I love you, you know?" Despite being unsure whether he had actually said it before, Edgar had shown it in a million ways. But, being a writer, he understood the significance of words. "I don't know what I'd do without you and it scares me a bit. Shit, maybe a lot." Letting out a muffled snort, Edgar continued, whispering into the crook of the man's neck. "You just ... get me, I guess. Nobody ever has."