✨Hogwarts Harringrove ✨ pt. 16 ( 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 17 • ao3 )
Billy shoved his golden scarf in Max’s face. “Hey! What the - ”
“There’s gonna be crowds. Wear this so I can see you.”
She growled a frustrated, sisterly sound and reminded, “There will be other Hufflepuff clothes walking around there, idiot.”
“But how many have red hair? Like two. Wear it, shit bird.”
Her head fell back in a melodramatic lament before she stomped to her friends in the courtyard. Steve quietly took her place beside Billy and voiced, “Maybe I’m just an only child, but I’ll never get used to how you talk to each other.”
Billy sighed, slowly shifting his weight to rotate as he said, “Yeah, well, be glad you - What the hell is this?”
Steve wore a dark green scarf tucked up under and a little over his chin. “It’s one of my mom’s scarves. It’s softer than the school ones.”
Billy reached his fingerless gloved hands to test that, and knew cashmere when he felt it. Steve added, “There’s no silver on it. It’s just a green scarf.”
“In a school of color coded people, that doesn’t matter.”
Underneath a teasing smirk, Steve nudged him with his thigh. “I’m staying with you all day. You don’t need to remember what I’m wearing. Chances are, I turn around and you steal it from me anyway.”
Billy raised a brow but kept his agreement silent. If he had known Steve had a cache of high quality scarves, Billy would’ve already pilfered through them for his night classes outside.
As they were, though, Billy jabbed, “So are we towing behind the pip squeaks, or...?”
Steve shook his head with a roll of his eyes. “Dustin’s going to be gross with his girlfriend. I’m only really close to him and Max. Robin’s ice skating right now and will be down later. You’re my only friend. How’s it feel?”
Billy huffed a laugh and glanced through the cloister hallways at the flagstone overlook that wrapped around half the school. The teachers had enchanted it with ice for the younger classmen to spend the day skating. He let his arm rest against Steve’s since it was too cold to comfortably hold hands outside of their pockets. “Feels good.”
Steve grinned before tucking himself deeper into his scarf. After the teachers announced the rules of visiting Hogsmeade, they were finally released to walk down the mountain into the village. Billy had to admit, given the amount of green here despite the weather trying to freeze his nuts off, the view was pretty.
Hogsmeade had strings of golden and orange lights over the streets and pumpkins littering every stoop, window, and doorway. The first timers in the village were easy to spot, because they ducked into the first shop they came to, eager to see things as well as to escape the cold.
Steve nudged him and asked, “Can we go in here? They have pocket warmers.”
Billy followed him into nothing short of a wizard convenience store. Snacks, random items, and appliances filled the shelves, while glass cabinets stocked drinks and single servings of soup which both steamed and glistened with frost.
By ‘pocket warmers,’ Steve meant literal bags of burning coals. The glowing orange pieces rattled and crunched in their magically reinforced bags, but Billy let Steve push one into his jacket pocket. Heat bloomed around him, making him feel suddenly comfortable and even hot. Steve warned, “Just don’t reach into your pocket and you’ll be fine.”
But Billy’s eyes had already alighted on something behind the counter. He reached into his safe pocket for some coins and asked, “A pack of Reds, thanks.”
He beat Steve outside because he’d wanted a cigarette for months, now. But he knew the jingling bell of the door behind him was Steve because he heard, “Ooo, gimme gimme gimme,” as Steve’s face pressed to his cheek, invading his space for a hit.
Billy turned his mouth away but held the cigarette steady, laughing at Steve’s silly audacity. Steve smiled as he exhaled, pointing his smoke at the sky while Billy admitted, “No one’s done that before.”
“I haven’t smoked since fourth year,” Steve informed but shook his head when Billy offered more. “Nah, it’s good every now and then, but I’m better without it.”
“Suit yourself,” Billy purred, and smoked contently as they meandered through the streets. He spotted Dustin and a girl going into a purple storefront and his own curiosity made him pause at the...unique teashop. “What is this?”
“That’s the most disgusting Valentine’s Day locale,” Steve informed with some bitterness in his tone. Then his features opened and he added, “It’s not bad the rest of the year, though. They make amazing cinnamon buns. You want one to go?”
Billy agreed and waited outside for Steve to emerge with a box fit for a cake. Billy peeked inside it at the massive bun clearly meant for sharing, which they took to the Three Broomsticks. Billy hung his jacket on the back of his chair while Steve went to the bar. He returned with two tankards and informed, “Mine has a shot of fire whiskey.”
“I suppose that would be why it’s on fire,” Billy sassed, but went in for his butter beer. It wasn’t as sweet as he expected. A good thing, considering they had a cinnamon bun with their names on it. The drink reminded him of a craft beer he’d had which featured bananas and butterscotch in its flavor profile behind the regular barley and hops.
The small, molten flames skating on the surface of Steve’s did not vanish when he started drinking it. Billy picked it up while asking, “How do you do this?”
“Exhale through your nose when you sip it.”
He did, and the soft movement of air proved enough to slide the flames out of the way for his lips - before the whiskey smacked him in the throat and sinuses. “Holy shit,” he coughed.
Steve grinned and began to ease the tankard back to his side of the table, but Billy’s hand overlapped his. “It’s good. It’s just - fuck. A lot.”
Eventually Will and, surprisingly, Dustin came into the pub and sat down. Steve and Billy gave them the rest of the cinnamon bun after Dustin explained, “Susie could only come down for an hour. She’s got a big project due that she wants to make sure is perfect.”
Robin then swept right in and took Billy’s beer with a large gulp. He exchanged a blunt but unbothered look with Steve as he remarked, “You low on funds or something?”
She set the tankard down and moved on to Steve’s. “Don’t worry, I’ll take his too.”
Dustin and Will observed her with fascination and worry. Steve pushed off the table to top off their drinks as he murmured for Billy’s ears, “Someone fell on her ass in front of a crush.”
Billy snickered and stopped him long enough to put coins in his hand. “Whiskey in mine this time.”
He couldn’t very well have Steve paying for everything, and the latter raised no complaint as he returned with two flaming pints. “Wanna see the garden?”
“It’s freezing outside.”
“There’s a fire to sit by.”
Billy relented and followed behind Steve out the back door. And...all right. A garden that didn’t know the current season was a pretty surprise. One whole side had been overgrown by purple wisteria, but also woven with similar gold and orange lights as the streets. Two fire pits stood on either end of the garden, surrounded by their small patios, chairs, and potted cyprus spires.
Even though the fire was hot, the chair Billy landed in was cold. He stayed forward, elbows on his knees to be close to the heat as he sipped his fire-capped beer and glanced at Steve...
Where he’d found a poker, Billy didn’t know, but he watched Steve aerate the coals and adjust the logs... He looked good. Handsome. With his long sleeves pushed up and his scarf loosened to hang around his shoulders...
Steve lifted his eyes when Billy reached out to touch the scarf. Not pulling on it, just...to touch some part of him. Steve’s features softened and he gripped his chair, dragging it with a lot of racket to sit closer to Billy.
He placed a key on Billy’s thigh. An old, ornate sort of key with an embroidered tag hanging off of it. Billy thumbed at the stitched numbers: 235 -
“If you want to. Or don’t. If you just want to lay down, that’s okay too,” Steve offered. “The rooms have fireplaces, so we could leave and come back.”
Warmth stirred low in Billy’s gut. The pad of his thumb rubbed the stark embroidery, his skin made soft from easy, magical living. “I didn’t think you were shy.”
Defiant eyes flicked to him before he rolled a shoulder. “I just want to make sure that we’re okay.”
“Why wouldn’t we be?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you don’t want to. I want it to be okay to not want to - ”
“I want to.”
A big smile flashed on Steve’s face. He took their pints and the key before going inside. After a lingering look at the fire and the garden, Billy smiled to himself and followed suit. He went to the table where Robin still sat with some food she had ordered and watched him collect his and Steve’s coats. He met her eyes with a silent dare to say something. She didn’t. Just tapped her spoon against her smirk and continued eating.
