#thread: davey

[amos-whoisleft-blog]

romaine calm | davey & amos

Amos quickly discovered, upon returning to Hogwarts with a new sense of purpose, that Herbology held little to no importance in his life. 

He had taken the subject for two reasons. The first, was because of his desperate need to show off, to prove himself to other students with a multitude of remarkable grades. In hindsight, not the best decision Amos had made. The second reason was because he was somewhat dependent on the boy who had fallen asleep on the desk next to him. A better excuse, even if it lacked practicality.

Professor Sprout was talking about the grotesque plant in front of them, as well as the practical test they came with it. He recognised it from his fourth year, but with all the other knowledge that he had taken in over the last few years, Amos had forgotten the whole purpose of it. All he knew was that the ‘Bubotuber’, he thinks it’s called, resembled a slug and a student had to squeeze out yellow pus for its medical capabilities. The entire thing was grotesque, but at least the slacker next to him seemed to find the entire thing just as boring.

When Sprout told them to begin, Amos glanced over at Davey with a mixture of amusement and despair before leaning over to ruffle his hair in an attempt to wake him. “C’mon mate,” Amos whined, trying to get his attention by shaking him a little more roughly. “I can’t do this. Too pretty for manual labour, you know? Especially when it involves things that… explode.”

@savingdavey

[amos-wil]

firewhiskey rambles | davey

One thing was happening the humid Thursday evening that many would never think possible. It was a Hufflepuff Quidditch Practice, and amongst their numbers, there would be a clear member missing. Amos Diggory. In his entire life, Amos had missed two practices since becoming a Chaser for the team.

The first time he missed it, was when he’d taken a Bludger to the skull and had been in the Hospital Wing for two weeks. Even then, he would sneak out to watch them, or peer eagerly through the window. The second time he missed it, he had come down with the flu. Flurries of vomit and episodes of fainting were certainly not ideal conditions to practice in, despite his insistence to Gwenog Jones that he was absolutely fine even though it was adamantly clear that he was the opposite.

So, logically, someone would argue that Amos not being there suggested there was something very wrong with him. And, in a way, there was. Instead of going to practice, like he would so eagerly do, he’d raided through his hidden stash of Firewhiskey and taken to it as if it were water, and he was a man dying of thirst. He knew the implications, that Davey would perhaps be furious with him when he returned – and quite rightly so. But he didn’t care. Amos, for the first time since his father left, was having to comprehend feelings.

The first was confusion, and a little bit of betrayal. Amos had always been very close to his mother, but in her recent owls to him, she had been aloof and short. She hadn’t even shown up for the parents weekend, something that hurt him more than he cared to admit. The second, was that he couldn’t get Mary MacDonald out of his head. He didn’t understand why he thought so often of her, why he had started to find himself jealous, or why he had suddenly become far more aware of their flirting. It was bothersome, and it required at drink.

Amos wasn’t sure how long had passed, him laying on the floor, staring at the ceiling and debating his petty problems. But when he heard the door to the dormitory open, he sat up abruptly, acutely aware of the sudden nausea and dizziness that overtook him. He took a moment, before glancing up with glazed over eyes and wearing a huge smile. “Captain!” He almost yelled, holding out his arms in a form of greeting.

“Come sit with me! Have a-” He picked up the Firewhiskey, ready to hand it to his housemate when he noticed its contents was empty. “-bottle.”

@savingdavey​

[bruisedconscience]

closed starter @mirafirstmate​​ 

Dave placed all the broken brooms he could find into a pile at the edge of the Quidditch pitch, the sun bearing down onto his back. He stood and sighed, swiped his hand over his brow and removed his cherry wood wand from its space at his hip, flicking it in a pretzel-motion and murmuring incarcerous. It wasn’t the kindest spell, but it was the most reliable way he knew to get rope out to bind with. And it wasn’t as though the brooms were alive... 

The brooms set into a bundle, he picked them up and started to take them to his chambers, not too far from the pitch and miles away from the dining hall. He needed to get materials to repair these-- reparo only worked if he had all the pieces, and these brooms...had seen better days. Dave turned around a corner and ran right into somebody, sticking them a bit with the splintered wood tucked under his arm. 

“Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stab ya. You okay?” 

[amos-whoisleft-blog]

end of the line / davey & amos

@savingdavey

Running late for Quidditch practice was no longer a rare occurrence for Amos. He’d promised Davey he would try to improve, and for the first few practices, he did. He was there early, not a textbook in sight, and focused completely on the team. And then Robyn had come to Hogsmeade. After he’d left her, his thoughts were full of his future – full of thoughts of his unborn son and the future he wanted to give him. Falling back into old habits had become instantaneous, and Quidditch was a mere afterthought when Davey brought it up.

He’d still attended practices at first, although he did need reminding. He was physically present, no textbook hidden, but his mind was elsewhere. Amos knew it was bad when, for the first time in a long time, he dropped a Quaffle when it was passed to him. He laughed it off, said he was tired. It wasn’t exactly a lie, the fear of such a life-changing thing was constant. But it was mostly due to being pre-occupied. Eventually, he missed a practice. Then two. Then more.

After an intense study session, he returned to the dormitory to see Davey absent. It hit him quickly that there was Quidditch practice that afternoon. He checked his watch. It would have been about half way through, so he wagered he might be able to make some sort of impact and not cause any sort of rift between himself and his best friend Captain. He set off in a half-jog, hoping to get there quicker.

Amos arrived at the pitch. Davey was talking to the team, probably about various strategies that they were going to use in the upcoming match. He sent a warm smile as he approached, although he could immediately sense the hostility that came from the rest of the team. Especially Frankie, although Amos didn’t care about what she thought. Or what any of them thought for that matter, except for Davey.

He stood next to the rest of them, waiting for Davey to finish his train of thought before speaking up. “Sorry, mate. I’ll just go change and you can bring me up to speed.”

[amos-whoisleft-blog]

gone with all her good intentions | d&a | july 1981

@savingdavey

Gemma had arrived at his door a little after 10am, around an hour after Robyn had arrived to drop off Cedric for his week with him. The mother of child was just listing off appointments and various things that Cedric had been improving in during her time with him when there was a tentative knock. Seeing his best friends mother wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence for one reason or another, but the solemn expression the older woman wore set a chill in his stomach. There was a war going on, such a look scarcely had good news following it.

He’d not greeted her in a friendly way, gulping and letting her into his home. In his living room, Cedric was playing happily with various toys, giving Gemma a wave before ignoring the group of adults again, as three year old children did. Sometimes, looking as his child, he could forget the dramas outside of his home. Robyn sensed the tension in the air, looking protectively over at their son. Despite her Muggle background, she knew enough of current events that even she realised that whatever news Gemma had was bad.

Gemma turned to face him, made firm eye contact. “I wanted you to hear this from us, rather than the radio or word of mouth.” She told him, her voice soft but still strong enough that he genuinely reached out for a counter, readying himself for whatever she was about to say. “There was a fire. I’m afraid Dorcas… didn’t make it.”

Nausea overwhelmed him – but mostly, his mind just went blank. What? There was no way. How could that be feasible? Hadn’t he just been laughing with her about Davey a week or so prior? Or had it been longer? The war had a way of keeping friends apart for various reasons, as did adulthood in general. But that couldn’t be right. How could Dorcas Meadowes, the bright-eyed, rambling Ravenclaw Alumni not be around any longer? Amos just stared, mouth opening and closing, as if waiting for a punchline for a joke.

Robyn reached out for him, told him she’d take Cedric back for as long as he needed, and to send her love to Davey. He didn’t grasp any words in particular, all a bit of a blur in the moment. His son reached out for him before they left, and Amos found himself cling to him – a small, brief contemplation about the fragility of life – before he let them both leave. Despite his own grief – and certainly, there was a lot – it would be minuscule compared to the emotions he was certain his best friend was currently going through.

Packing a small bag and sending an owl to work requesting some leave took a matter of moments, and he hoped his boss could make out the desperation in his rough scribbles. And then he left, following Gemma to her own place. For a brief second, Amos was confused as to why they weren’t going to Davey’s, and then the reality was dragged back. A fire. It took everything, Dorcas included. His heart dropped, and Amos had to swallow the urge to vomit. He wanted to sob, hell, he wanted to mourn there and then. But he held his chin up as he entered the unfamiliar environment, because Davey Gudgeon was in there, and the last thing his friend needed was more sadness.

Gemma had filled him in a little bit about how Davey was handling it – which of course, was dreadfully. But seeing his friend, a man usually full of life and joy, sitting on a couch looking positively damn empty, broke his heart. He stood at the doorway, called his name, uncertain and he was left unanswered. He exchanged a look with Gemma, asking for permission to approach her son. And then he did, walking into the room with reservation before kneeling down in front of Davey. The other man wasn’t looking at him – or really at anything it seemed.

Amos had no idea how to deal with situations like this. Davey was always the empathetic one, guiding him on how to comfort and how to be human. The situations had switched, and Amos had never felt more powerless or unknowing as he did now, terrified of saying the wrong thing or acting the wrong way. It was a guessing game over the worst news he’d heard… ever really. But he had to do something, he couldn’t just kneel there watching his best friend looking so un-Gudegon like.

Eventually, he reached up, putting a firm hand on his arm. “Davey.” He repeated, not expecting his voice to be as strained as it was. He bent his body a little further, trying to drag some sort of eye contact for him, or anything to show some form of life. What could he say? “I’m here.” For what is worth, he was. “I’m gonna be here, okay?”

[amos-wil]

before the storm | davey and amos - day one

Amos knew there were many perks to going to the Quidditch tournament. There was the chance to prove himself as an excellent Chaser after his recent failure back in the Hogwarts Grounds. He had been feeling better in himself, finding some closure in the previous weeks, but getting away from the castle was still welcome. Especially as it so happened that he was on the Quidditch team with some close friends, namely, Davey Gudgeon. Who Amos had elected to share a room with for the duration of the tournament, whether the other boy wanted it or not.

When the first day came to an end, Amos was exhausted. Arriving back in their joined room, he collapsed in the nearest bed, uncaring on who claimed it. From the moment he arrived, his possessions had been slung anywhere and everywhere. He had warned his best friend about the dangers of allowing him to pack his own things, but he was sure Davey also knew the drama that came with the blonde and unpacking items too. So when Amos pulled what he believed was a cover over him and instead found a robe, he wasn’t too surprised.

When Amos heard the door of the room open, he glanced towards the newcomer with one eye. Of course, it was Davey, but the conformation was comforting. Immediately, his eye snapped back shut and he dragged the robe closer to him. “I’m cold.” He moaned, sticking his bottom lip out in a pout. That was one thing he disliked about being away from the castle and the familiarity of the Hufflepuff Common Room. The colder months seemed to affect him more when he was away from his own bed.

“I’ll give you my last chocolate frog if you let me have your blanket as well.”

@savingdavey​