✨Hogwarts Harringrove ✨ pt. 11 ( 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 12 • ao3 )
The quidditch match got cancelled with a pending rescheduling.
The houses converged in the Great Hall for dinner with still no sign of the players, until one by one they began to be released from the faculty meeting. Most of the gossip was just eager curiosity and blissful ignorance, only pushed further as the innocent players got interrogated by their peers.
“Something was clearly buggy with those bludgers. I’ve never seen both nearly take out a player, in school or the professional leagues.”
“Hopper. The grounds keeper.”
“It’s cute how much she loves quidditch.”
“Who was she pointing at?”
Billy, Robin, and the kids exchanged glances when they overheard that one. Being a little extra, Ellie had clearly picked up on something regular eyes and ears hadn’t. To Dustin and everyone else’s credit, they kept their mouths uncharacteristically shut until the Hall began to trickle empty.
Still no sign of Steve. Cupcake had somewhat recovered, relishing the raw vegetables Billy collected from the salad bowl for her.
Will Byers ventured, “Who do you think did it?”
Jonathan glanced at him but shook his head. “I don’t know, buddy. A lot of things happened. It doesn’t look good for Ravenclaw, but I doubt Gryffindor is totally innocent either.”
Max agreed, “Someone got his bird to distract him on purpose.”
Mike commented, “Plenty of people know other houses’ passwords - ”
Jonathan shook his head. “It’s not the same as entering someone’s room. We’re always in each other’s Common Rooms, but the same thing happens when guys try to go into the girls’ dorm, or members of another house try to go into the bedrooms. Magic kicks them out.”
Dustin stared at him. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but how do you know that?”
Will provided more gently, “He’s dating a girl in a different house.”
Epiphany bloomed on Dustin’s face like a cartoon lightbulb. “Woah. Double cock block.”
Billy snorted into his hot tea, sipping the caffeine because - game or not - he intended to get to his date with Steve. Even if it meant showering together and going straight to bed.
And he kept to himself how he had access to the Gryffindor rooms. Not only did he have no interest in becoming a suspect in this bullshit, but he didn’t care for it to be common knowledge that his sand might mean that the school reads him differently than the rest of the student body. So far, only their little ragtag group knew that Ellie was a bit more than a magical kid. Billy preferred only Max and Steve knowing the same about him.
Billy waited in the Gryffindor Common Room, and when Steve finally emerged through the portrait tunnel, sluggish but still in his quidditch uniform, everyone stood up to pepper him with questions.
Billy sleuthed through the crowd to draw him into the safety of a hug. Cupcake chirped loudly, sprinting back and forth across Steve’s shoulders as fast as she could. “You stink.”
“I feel about the same,” Steve exhaled, and said louder for everyone else, “Gossip somewhere else, you crows.”
Steve drew him toward the stairs, but Billy made him stop. No need to alert the entire Gryffindor house with a sprinkling of others that Billy had extra privileges. Steve asked, “Can you wait for me to shower?”
“No. But I can shower with you.”
A tired grin moved on Steve’s face. “Okay. Go on in. I’ll get clothes.”
Billy sauntered into the boys’ bathroom, and stripped in the largest shower stall. Steve soon arrived with Cupcake in tow, and Billy took her upon his shoulder as he watched Steve’s quidditch robes vanish inside a laundry basket.
“I’m sorry to whoever has to wash those,” he said to nobody, and stepped under the water spray.
It wasn’t as sexy as Billy had hoped, what with a clingy bird splashing water on both of them. But Billy got to see all of him, and Steve got to see all of Billy. At one point, his hand framed Billy’s hip, his thumb rubbing a black vein there. “Do these hurt?”
Billy shook his head. “They feel like bruises sometimes. But no.”
Cupcake whistled while Billy otherwise knew that Steve had hurt parts on him. Bruises and scrapes that he hadn’t even realized Steve accumulated were now blushing and spreading across his skin. “The hell is this?” Billy said once he realized that a bruise was hiding under the hairline beside Steve’s cheekbone.
“Oh,” Steve tried to laugh as Billy otherwise caged his head in his hands to move the hair and properly see it. “Ellie got me with an elbow. Then one of the Ravenclaw beaters lost their temper. The mostly missed, and are definitely out of the game whenever we get to play again.”
Steve’s head bowed in Billy’s hands, letting Billy support its weight. With those eyes closed, Billy couldn’t help leaning into the alley between his wrists to capture Steve’s lips. They only stopped because the bird made kissy noises.
Steve muttered, “Uh huh,” and kissed her feathers, earning a loud Wooo!
Billy laughed but admitted, “I didn’t think Ravenclaws were the sort to throw hands.”
“Oh, the superiority complexes can get pretty wild in each house.”
“Sounds like everyone missed an interesting conversation.”
Too tired for much more banter, Steve kissed him again and they finished quickly. It was almost a damn shame, covering those tiny moles and that lean body. Billy made a point to leave the shower last, just to watch the way that ass jiggled a little when he walked.
As they dressed in Steve’s comfy clothes, Billy realized, “You haven’t eaten all day, right?”
“Right,” Steve confirmed as he moved a large cotton swab over Cupcake’s feathers, somewhat drying them. “But I asked Robin to make something for me. For us.”
Billy lowered the towel to peer at him, not caring that his curls looked like a frizz mess as a result. Steve smiled reassuringly and said, “Come on, we need to get to the Ravenclaw tower.”
Wolf whistles sounded when they crossed through the common room. Cupcake bobbed on Steve’s shoulder, whistling too until the sounds were cut off by the portrait closing. Billy took Steve’s hand, remembering the various bruises he now had from today’s rough game.
The Ravenclaw common room was not unlike the Gryffindor’s, but its coloring was brighter and fresh compared to the darker, cozy lions’ den. It was certainly built for studying and artistry, as the tables had the option of being beveled up for artists, and glass lanterns hung for more light despite the crackling fireplaces.
Robin waved them over to her table, and Billy recognized Steve’s picnic basket at her feet. “This thing’s extremely illegal,” she murmured, mostly to Steve, “but I think after today, your Prefect badge is secure.”
Steve perked up. “You think so?”
“Steve, you practically played three jobs in that game, between catching your dang bird, and trying to take care of everyone at once. Even the other team’s keeper. Now shut up and get in the basket. Your food’s getting cold.”
No one in the room seemed to care about Steve stepping into a picnic basket and lowering out of sight. Robin prompted, “You next. It doesn’t hurt.”
Billy peered over the edge of the basket to see a ladder, of all things, descending into the bowels of a magically larger space. Steve’s face appeared at the bottom, checking on his progress. “Come on!” he waved, and moved out of sight with his singing bird.
Robin observed Billy and commented, “I didn’t expect this to be a sticking point for you.”
“What if your enchantment breaks?” he snapped.
Her eyes narrowed on him. “I should probably be insulted, but you’re still new. It’s not going to break, and even if it does, you’ll be ejected from the basket first.”
Billy pressed his lips together into an impertinent line, but he stepped into the basket. Robin tried to reassure, “If it’s any consolation, Cupcake will feel something’s wrong first, like a mine canary.”
“That doesn’t help,” he growled, lowering rung by rung. “Something happens to that bird, Steve will go nuclear.”
He finally landed inside the bag and watched the lid above close. “I’m a mouse in a purse,” he muttered to himself, but he looked around at the...tent? In which he stood. Or at least, the canvas lining of the basket had been fashioned to look like a more luxurious tent. Billy couldn’t say where the preternatural lighting came from, but it made the fabric walls glow. He observed the various magical flames dancing in their glass, bulbous hanging lanterns, but those just put splashes of color everywhere.
He pushed through the curtains separating the little foyer from the main tent room. Cupcake waddled over a carpet littered with pillows and food containers. Steve smiled at him and gestured over all of it. “It looks good, right? Robin did great.”
Cupcake flew off the carpet to land on Billy’s shoulder, leaning her little body this way and that to see the sights. It wasn’t extravagant, but it was roomy for two people, and began to fill with food aromas as Steve opened the containers.
Tomato soup. Wild rice. Cornbread. Pumpkin bread. Grilled asparagus, and to wash it all down, the little push of a wine cork was heard as Steve unstoppered a bottle. “Hahh,” he sighed for dramatic relief. After pouring two glasses, he sprinkled seeds over the carpet for Cupcake to go foraging for her treats.
“What actually is a prefect?” Billy asked.
Steve blew on his soup as he answered, “A glorified hall monitor.”
A laugh bubbled out of him. “Wait, really?”
Steve ate some soup and rice before he elaborated, “They monitor the halls at night; we take different shifts with the other houses’ prefects. We also take care of the first years, so we give them the tour of the castle, teach them the rules, all that. We’re the first to get here and the last to leave because of that, but we get our own rooms and bathrooms.”
Billy paused with his wine cup on his lip. “Oh yeah?”
Steve smiled goofily at him, or as much as he could with food in his mouth. Since his time as prefect was still a semester and a half away, Steve moved the topic to, “Hogsmeade is soon. Did you get to see much of it when you arrived?”
“Not enough to impress me.”
“They decorate for Halloween, so it’ll be all lit up when we go down there. Do you like sweet liquor?”
“Because butter beer is worth trying, but you can sip mine first. There’s also mead and fire whiskey. Cafes, shops, and little gardens. I like the Three Broomsticks’ beer garden.”
“Just an outdoor area where you can drink. The pub has an actual garden, though. I like to get the hot butter beer when it’s snowing and stand out there. It’s pretty.”
Cupcake whooped indignantly as she stood upright, inducing Steve to console, “You’re pretty too, Cakie.”
She made a kissy noise and drank out of Billy’s water cup.
After a time, Steve stretched out onto his side that wasn’t injured, eating more slowly and just lounging. Billy prompted, “What are we doing tomorrow?”
“After I sleep a year, I’m going to the hospital wing for some physical therapy, even if I have to beg one of those witches to stand on my back.”
“You think they’d do that for both of us?”
Steve plucked up a piece of cornbread as he said, “Do you need a realignment?”
“I think they’d find more than enough scar tissue to work with.”
“Fair,” Steve relinquished softly.
Before either of them could say anything else, though, for Robin’s voice heralded, “Hey, are you guys decent?”
“No,” they both droned, only to erupt in laughter.
Robin came through the curtains and yanked up the wine bottle. “I forgot I left you this. And there’s just enough left for me.”
Steve’s head fell back as she refilled his cup for herself. And then promptly sat to help herself to the rest of the pumpkin bread and soup. Billy shook his head at Steve. “We can’t catch a break.”
