Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The day clearly didn't go well since very early in the morning: Imaizumi woke up with a nagging headache, dropped his toothbrush twice during his morning bath, and spilled coffee on his trousers he'd brought from the laundry yesterday at breakfast. Naruko laughed so hard that he almost fell off the bench when he saw Imaizumi writhing and cursing. So what? The coffee was hot, actually.

Because of this, he didn't finish his breakfast and then spent a lot of time going upstairs back to the bedroom to find clean trousers.

Imaizumi was late for his first class, lost five points because the Professor of Potions forgave tardiness only to Manami, and it was all Naruko's fault, of course, with his stupid uncontrollable laugh and his way of throwing his clothes into Imaizumi's drawer. It was a hell of a mess, honestly.

There was no doubt in Imaizumi's mind that everything was going to go wrong today after that. His time at Hogwarts and his studies in general were hardly peaceful. While Naruko was here, and he had always been here since his first year, Imaizumi had to forget about things like silence and living nerve cells. Sometimes it was like torture because every time Onoda disappeared, in all likelihood spending time with Manami, Naruko started a game called DEVISE THE MOST ELABORATE WAY TO ANNOY YOUR REMAINING FRIEND.

Imaizumi wanted to devote his time away from Quidditch practice to studying and relaxing because studying was really fun for him (plus, as long as his grades were good, his parents didn't have too much to complain about), but Naruko always had plans for his own life and the lives of his friends.

Naruko's friend...

Imaizumi is Naruko's friend.

When they made their final peace with each other after winning the Quidditch Cup together in their second year, it seemed like the most incredible event in his entire life — even more incredible than the fact of the victory itself.

“So be it — you and I are friends from now on, Hotshot,” Naruko said then, laughing loudly and slapping Imaizumi on the shoulder so enthusiastically that his neck ached for two days afterwards.

Of course, their relationship had hardly changed, but Imaizumi remembered the phrase well, for some reason feeling a warmth in his chest every time he ran it through his head, trying to believe it.

He and Naruko. He and Naruko are friends. Sounded like a fucking bad idea.

Onoda was incredibly happy for them, but then plunged headfirst into his own problems with Manami, starting to distance himself from everyone else.

Thankfully, life seemed to be back to normal for exactly a year now, but Naruko seemed bored with the lack of challenge. When he had returned from the Christmas holidays, he had been like a mad dog on the loose: He had never missed an opportunity to get into a conflict with Slytherins, and not so long ago he had gotten into a fight, for which he had received a punishment and detention — the House had lost a lot of points because of that incident.

Naruko could be expected to do something like that, but lately he seemed to have gone over the top and outdone himself in his ability to get into trouble.

Onoda had noticed this, too, though he was hesitant to make a comment, and Imaizumi was wise not to add fuel to the fire, for the occasions when he managed to calm Naruko down were more like a rare miracle.

But the uneasiness remained nonetheless and kept him guessing as to the content of the reason for this behaviour. Imaizumi thought he had gotten to know Naruko well enough during his time at Hogwarts to know what was gnawing at him, but this time the case seemed to be quite different.

There were no problems with Quidditch, no problems with his family, as far as Imaizumi had seen before the Hogwarts Express left (Naruko was being seen off by both his parents and younger brothers, all laughing and in high spirits).

So what was the deal then?

Imaizumi involuntarily thought about it again as the second Potions lesson came to an end. The contents of his cauldron were boiling away, hitting the table, and Onoda, who was sitting next to him, brought him to his senses with a worried exclamation.

This was actually the first time Imaizumi had messed up his work in Potions.

He came to lunch glum and very hungry, but even a delicious Hogwarts meal didn't fix his bad mood. It was a good thing they didn't have practice today, or else Imaizumi would have started fantasising about his spectacular fall off his broomstick and Naruko's amusing comments like, “Is your head so heavy from cramming that you can't keep your balance?”

Oh yeah, Naruko would definitely make something like that up. And Kaburagi would probably laugh behind his back — their team was pretty cute in general.

Regardless, lunch and the next class went off without incident.

After class, the plan was to go to the library — Imaizumi was going to return the books borrowed for the day and do some of his homework for the weekend. Naruko shamelessly sneaked out twenty minutes later after slipping him his Transfiguration essay, and Onoda vanished before they even entered the cosy library.

It was a good opportunity to study alone, as Imaizumi liked to do. He did his Herbology paper, finished Naruko's essay, correcting almost all of the beginning and trying to make the text look decent, and then noticed that the time was getting close to dinner.

It's time to relax, he thought, squaring his shoulders. Read Onoda's comics tonight, go to bed early, and walk to Hogsmeade with him and Naruko tomorrow.

With those encouraging thoughts, Imaizumi left the library and made his way up to the Gryffindor common room.

The unexpected sight caught him by surprise almost as soon as he passed the portrait and stepped into the warm room. Naruko stood by the fireplace, tense as he would be during the most crucial exam or in the changing room before a Cup game. His shoulders were shaking, his fists were tightly clenched, and a discarded Onoda's comic book lay in the chair, though Onoda never treated his favourite things in such an inappropriate manner.

What the hell had happened here?

The rest of the Gryffindors who were in the common room rose in silence for some unknown reason and slowly made their way towards the dorms.

“What's the matter?” Imaizumi asked, walking over to Naruko.

He almost jumped on the spot. Turned around and looked at him with eyes full of horror and despair. Imaizumi's heart involuntarily collapsed at the sight.

“I'm an idiot,” Naruko said in a shaky voice, clutching at Imaizumi's robe like he was going to shake him hard. “I— I—”

“Yeah. I know,” Imaizumi replied, still remaining calm. “What did you do again?”

“Sakamichi— He—” Naruko muttered, swallowing the words.

“Did you mess up the spell again and turn him invisible?” Imaizumi rolled his eyes almost irritably, though jokes were hardly appropriate right now. Naruko was seriously upset for some reason. And for some reason he couldn't say it without stuttering.

“He's not here!” Naruko almost shrieked, and his eyes glazed over. “He's gone! Because of me!”

“What are you talking about? What do you mean — because of you?” Imaizumi asked, noticing his increased anxiety.

Naruko sobbed. Tears rolled from his eyes. He tried to turn away, but Imaizumi grabbed his face with his palms and lifted it towards himself.

“What's wrong, tell me,” he demanded fearfully.

“Don't look!” Naruko protested, trying to break free and push Imaizumi's face away from him, placing his palm on his chin.

“Stop it. You think I didn't see you crying?”

Naruko froze. He stopped struggling, and Imaizumi let him go, feeling his tears on his skin, which he wanted to wipe on his robe but didn't dare.

“I told him...” Naruko said, looking down at the floor and shuddering, “a terrible thing. Oh Merlin, he won't forgive me... It's all because of Manami... oh shit... damn me... He was here again — Sakamichi gave him the password again, you know?”

Naruko sniffled and started wiping his face with his sleeve. Looking at him, Imaizumi slumped his shoulders tiredly and sighed. The song was old, really. Naruko didn't need to look for reasons to freak out over Manami — Manami was giving those reasons himself. Intentionally or not, Imaizumi didn't know, and he didn't like the whole story, but it had been dragging on for a long time.

“What did you say to Sakamichi?” Imaizumi asked quietly when he heard another sob.

“I... almost called him a traitor,” Naruko said, lowering his head and wiping his eyes again. “I said he'd be better placed in Slytherin, too. He'll— He'll think I don't want to be friends with him anymore!”

“Are you out of your mind?” Imaizumi frowned tensely. “What's going on with you?”

“Do I know?” Naruko blurted out, raising his red eyes. “Tell me — you're the smartest one here!”

Imaizumi sighed again, involuntarily trying to imagine how Onoda felt when he heard his best friend say that. The only thing more painful than that was being thrown off a cliff, probably.

“Okay,” Imaizumi said, looking down at the floor. “Calm down. Just try to calm down. I'll go find Sakamichi and talk to him. It'll be fine — don't panic ahead of time.”

With those words, he left the common room, but behind him, he still heard another sob and renewed crying.

He didn't want to leave Naruko alone at a time like this, but the only way out now was to bring back runaway Onoda and reconcile them. He had to grit his teeth and force himself to go.

Oh, shit. Did Imaizumi ever think that he would have to reconcile these two?

“Hey, Shunsuke, what's your hurry? You almost ran me over,” Teshima, the current captain of their Quidditch team and the Head Boy, said with a chuckle.

Aoyagi was walking with him, quiet as ever, holding a stack of rolled parchments and a box of coloured crayons.

“Have you seen Sakamichi?” Imaizumi asked, barely concealing his excitement.

“No, what's wrong?” Teshima wondered, stopping smiling.

“The most unbelievable thing in the world happened,” Imaizumi grumbled, averting his gaze. “He and Naruko had a fight.”

“No way — that can't be right,” Teshima was even more surprised. “They get along just fine.”

“I guess that could be. I have to go find him,” Imaizumi replied and hurried towards the stairs.

He looked up a couple of floors, but all to no avail so far. When he got down to the ground floor, Imaizumi asked a few other Gryffindor acquaintances who were going about their business, but they couldn't help, either, — Onoda had disappeared into thin air.

The Great Hall was still sparsely populated — dinner wasn't for another half hour, but the one who had caused all this confusion was sitting at the Slytherin table.

Trying to pull himself together, Imaizumi straightened his back and walked straight over there.

Manami had positioned himself at the end of the table and was now feeding Onoda's owl something from his hand. He looked serene and relaxed, but he noticed Imaizumi's approach immediately and turned his head, distracted from what he was doing.

“Sakamichi isn't with you?” Imaizumi asked, realising too late that the question was frankly stupid. Onoda couldn't be hiding under the table.

“As you can see, no,” Manami replied calmly. “What's wrong?”

“Naruko...” Imaizumi said, averting his eyes because Manami's gaze was too attentive, too penetrating, as if he was looking somewhere inside Imaizumi's soul, “said some shit to him, and Sakamichi ran away, apparently very upset. I'm trying to find him.”

“He's not in the castle,” Manami said, and Imaizumi looked at him again after all.

“Where is he?”

Manami shook the biscuit crumbs off his palm, stroked Sleepy, and then propped his cheek on his hand.

“Mm... let me think about it. I can guess he's in the air.”

“What do you mean?” Imaizumi didn't understand, starting to feel strange. Manami turned to him and smiled sweetly.

“I can try to find him.”

“If you can, tell him to come back,” Imaizumi said quickly, hurrying to leave, and moved towards the exit.

Not to say that this conversation had solved the problem in any way — Imaizumi didn't have much experience talking to Manami, and his words now were just confusing, misleading, even though it was sickening without that. Or maybe he was just having fun like that, messing with him? Why would he help him at all?

After walking around part of the floor, Imaizumi, to his regret, realised that he would not succeed, and thought he should go and check on Naruko — had he trashed the common room in a fit of hysteria?

Many of the Gryffindors were already on their way to dinner when Imaizumi returned to his starting point again. But Naruko didn't seem to be going anywhere. He sat huddled in the corner of the couch, apparently trying not to cry, because Teshima and Kaburagi were circling him like caring mothers.

“Leave him alone — you're making it worse,” Imaizumi sighed tiredly, stopping nearby.

“Oh, you're back,” Teshima perked up. “Did you find Onoda?”

“Not yet.”

“Well,” Teshima shrugged, “he'll come back eventually, I'm sure. So maybe we should just wait for him, or go to dinner. He'll get hungry and come over.”

“You go ahead and I'll stay here with the redheaded misunderstanding,” Imaizumi replied, unwittingly noticing and ignoring the flirtatious glance of a passing fifth year girl who sent him valentines every year.

His teammates agreed, and after a couple of minutes the common room was empty. Imaizumi waited for the distant voices to die down, looked at Naruko, who was burying his face in his knees, and then headed for the stairs. In the dormitory, he opened a secret drawer in the dresser and, without thinking long, pulled out all the hidden sweets in beautifully coloured wrappers. Walking back into the common room, Imaizumi piled it all next to Naruko and said, “Eat.”

“What?” Naruko said indignantly, his face red from crying. “Eat it yourself — don't talk to me like that when I'm in trouble!”

“Don't make a big deal out of it,” Imaizumi snorted, folding his arms across his chest. “You've said a lot of nonsense, but I don't think Sakamichi's going to stay away from you for the rest of his life because of it.”

“How do you know?” Naruko asked fiercely and desperately, grabbing the chocolate bar and aggressively tearing the packaging.

“I'm still talking to you even though I've heard all sorts of things from you.”

“But it's you!” Naruko didn't give up. “Sakamichi is a delicate flower that needs special care.” He took a big bite out of his chocolate bar, and Imaizumi couldn't help but let out a short chuckle at the comparison. “Why are you laughing?”

“When he comes back, you'll make up. You'll just apologise and that's it.”

“And if he doesn't come back?” Naruko blurted out, taking a second to look away from destroying the chocolate.

“What are you talking about? Where's he going to go? He'll have to be back before curfew,” Imaizumi rolled his eyes irritably.

“He'll stay there with that Manami — he's more important to him,” Naruko replied, sniffling again but still eating. “A separate House for the two of them. Romance, for fuck's sake. And I'm worried, aren't I? I was just worried.”

“I understand that,” Imaizumi agreed, and sat down on the couch on the other side of the mountain of sweets. “But sometimes you go a little overboard. You act like Sakamichi's life is in danger.”

“What if it is?” Naruko opened the pack of muffin.

“It isn't,” Imaizumi objected. “Manami won't hurt him. He'll break his heart at most, but there's nothing we can do about that. You're thinking too shallowly — not every Slytherin has the guts to go down a truly dark path. Besides, times change, people change. Even Slytherin students are different from what they used to be.”

“Are you being clever again?” Naruko asked and threw a crumpled package at Imaizumi. “You can't go to the past and know it.”

“You don't have to have a Time-Turner in your pocket to know something about the past,” Imaizumi retorted irritably. “It's just that your narrow mindset doesn't allow you to understand it.”

“Oh, are you serious? Right now you decided to tell me I'm stupid?” Naruko was indignant, shifting his position. “You're just a disgusting friend. The most disgusting friend I could have.”

Confused, Imaizumi couldn't avoid the action that followed: Naruko, clinging to him, wrapped his arms tightly around his neck, trying to either strangle or hug him. No, at first it felt like a clear threat to life, but then the hands loosened their grip slightly. Naruko froze, simply continuing to hold Imaizumi and hiding his face on his shoulder. Imaizumi froze himself, but out of shock, looking dazedly at the few packets of biscuits that had fallen to the floor.

Was Naruko really hugging him now? What the fuck? It was impossible in theory or practice, but—

“You have perfume,” Naruko said suddenly quietly, snapping him out of his daze and then pulling away slightly. “I've noticed you using something, but I couldn't catch the scent — it's too faint. It seems... perfect for you. Something... irritating and pungent.”

“Oh thank you,” Imaizumi replied a little resentfully. “Actually, I don't find that smell at all like you described.”

“I like it,” Naruko said and awkwardly pulled away finally, returning to the corner of the couch.

Imaizumi blinked confusedly and realised his breathing had hitched. Was he enjoying this momentary intimacy with the world's most annoying guy? No. Definitely not.

“Why don't you explain what's been going on with you lately?” Imaizumi asked, hoping to distract himself from his stupid thoughts.

“I already told you I don't know,” Naruko replied, taking another bite of his food. “Everything was fine during the holidays. But once I got back here, sometimes it just washes over me.”

“Washes over?”

Naruko nodded, unwrapping another packet.

“I feel like I'm getting angry over nothing.”

“I think it's a character trait of yours,” Imaizumi smiled slightly, but Naruko was in no hurry to be amused.

“Before...” he said, chewing on his muffin, “it wasn't like that. It's like I'm reacting to something, but I don't understand it. I don't understand a damn thing anymore. I'm tired of this shit. Fine with Slytherins — but I snapped at Sakamichi. It's just... nightmarish.”

Imaizumi remained silent, but then something, some unseen force, perhaps similar to the one Naruko was talking about, made him move to the side, making room between himself and the sweets, and then he nodded.

Naruko hesitated for a moment, and it looked like he was going to refuse this mute request, but soon he slowly stood up to then sit down next to him.

“I know you can't stand me, but if it'll make you feel better—” Imaizumi started, but before he could finish, Naruko was hugging him again, this time wrapping his tense arms around his waist.

Imaizumi pulled his clasped hand out and threw it over the back of the couch, hesitant to hug back.

“It's not like that with you,” Naruko replied quietly. “It's better than those moments when I'm just blown away. Do you think maybe I'm going crazy? Or maybe I'm cursed?”

“Who would?” Imaizumi grinned, hiding the awkwardness of the situation.

“I don't know. Manami? He definitely hates me.”

“I doubt he hates you that much. And you're at it again?”

“What about me?” Naruko shrugged, pressing his cheek near Imaizumi's collarbone. “Have you seen him at all? He's definitely acting weird. And I don't feel comfortable even when he's just anywhere nearby. I always thought that's how I would feel when I was around an adult huge dragon. You're kind of amazed by its beauty, but you shudder at what might happen.”

“Hm. Are you saying that Manami is beautiful?” Imaizumi asked with a smirk.

“Yeah,” Naruko snorted unhappily. “Handsome like a girl — is not cool.”

“Sakamichi is probably happy with everything.”

“Don't tell me you agree with his choice.”

“Not really. He doesn't want to think about the consequences, it could cost him in the end.”

“So tell him that,” Naruko demanded, raising his head but quickly lowering it back down when he met Imaizumi's gaze.

“I'll tell him when I get the chance.”

“Though... if they're actually dating,” Naruko muttered quietly. “Do you think that's true? Do you think they... hold hands or kiss when no one's looking?”

“I guess so.”

“That's what I thought,” Naruko said desperately. “One day he'll just take him away from us.”

“It's funny, but my concern is the opposite,” Imaizumi replied with a weak smile, and before he thought, he ran the fingers of the hand thrown over the back of the couch through Naruko's hair, stiff with gel. It was surprisingly pleasant, despite the stuck-together strands. Pleasant and awakening a desire to know what it felt like when it was not desecrated by styling products. “I'm afraid... Manami might throw him out of his life when he finds something more interesting. Sakamichi's not likely to get over it quietly.”

“Oh shit,” Naruko said suddenly, unclasping his hands and pulling away. It seemed that his face was red not only because he had cried a lot. “I was just thinking about it now. Why are we sitting here hugging each other and talking about Sakamichi and Manami? It's so—”

“We were trying to comfort you?” Imaizumi suggested, reluctantly noting to himself that he felt annoyed that Naruko had moved away.

Naruko glanced in his direction incredulously.

“I think we took a wrong turn somewhere,” he said and went back to eating.

“Stop eating so much, you'll get a tummy ache,” Imaizumi warned tiredly, in response to which he only heard the grumbling again.

“Didn't you bring all this and tell me to eat it?”

Deciding to remain silent, Imaizumi sat back and looked at the burning logs in the fireplace. The situation was strange, if you thought about it. Unusual certainly because they had never talked about anything so openly before, unless it involved Quidditch. But Naruko seemed to... trust him? He had just confided his worries to him, and Imaizumi didn't know what to do about it or how to help? Surely that was just a nasty pay for sincerity.

“As I understood it...” he began uncertainly, frowning tensely, “you don't have a single clue as to the cause of your behaviour?”

“Do I look like a psychologist?” Naruko replied, nervously crumpling the empty wrapper of another chocolate bar. “I don't want to find the reason — I just want it to end.”

“Without finding out the reason, we're unlikely to know how to end it,” Imaizumi sighed.

“We?”

“No matter how insufferable you are, I—” Imaizumi was embarrassed by his own unspoken words, but somehow forced himself to finish, “Um— I'm not going to leave you alone? You better be rude to me and try to be more careful with Sakamichi.”

The silence that followed lingered. Imaizumi felt even more awkward, and when he risked a glance at Naruko, he was smirking evilly.

“You should have heard yourself a couple of years ago,” he said, snorting with laughter.

“Don't make fun of me when I'm honestly trying to help!” Imaizumi burst out. “I'm really worried that your warm relationship with Sakamichi won't be as warm, and you'll be whining about it for the rest of school.”

But Naruko smiled and threw the wrapper at Imaizumi again.

“Okay, Mr Nerd, I'll try to heed your words.”

They sat in silence for a while after that, though it didn't seem uncomfortable at all. Quite the opposite. Naruko did seem to calm down (at least for a while), and Imaizumi felt a little better. It was nice, after all, to just be near each other like this... When the barricades between them were broken down, when one would think there were no secrets left.

When time... seemed to stop, as it only does when you're alone with yourself.

So Naruko had become so close to him? So much so that it was even more exciting than the feeling after the match they had won together.

Thinking about his seemingly brand new sensations, Imaizumi soon had to remember that time and reality still existed after all. The students slowly began to return from dinner, but Onoda was still gone. A little later it turned out that he hadn't appeared in the Great Hall at all, and Naruko's panic was even worse than before. He began to make completely ridiculous assumptions about what could have happened to his best friend.

“What if Sakamichi ran away from school? What if he wandered into the Forbidden Forest? What if he got lost or got into trouble?” Naruko groaned, tugging at Imaizumi's sleeve.

“Of course not — you know perfectly well that Sakamichi would never go into the Forbidden Forest of his own free will: He's scared shitless of it, calm down.”

“We have to go looking for him!”

“You have to give him time if you don't want to mess things up even more!” Imaizumi objected. “Sakamichi will come when he's ready — just trust him.”

Naruko reluctantly agreed, but his eyes were watering again, and his overall condition seemed to be stressing the others out. They were afraid to interfere, and it was even funny considering Naruko was just a fourth-year with hardly a formidable appearance. But somehow, even without doing much of anything, he was able to inspire fear and respect for himself by just being a small and boisterous teenager. Everyone has their talents, probably.

And that talent was revealed again, as soon as Onoda returned. The common room was empty again only because Naruko had risen to his feet.

The reconciliation, as expected, went rather quickly. Onoda was naturally not angry in the slightest, rather a little afraid, and Naruko was basically the same way. He quickly retired to the bathroom to finally wash up, and Imaizumi got the chance to say a few words to Onoda about what he thought of his relationship with Manami. Words caution, if one could put it that way, because this Slytherin boy was still a mystery that Imaizumi didn't expect to ever solve. Some people just lived in different worlds. Too different. Perhaps that was the whole point.

Onoda listened and even seemed to think about it, which helped to release the tension that had built up all day.

Walking up to his still empty dormitory, Imaizumi glanced at the comics on his bed but thought he was too tired for the day. It would be nice to switch his brain off until the morning.

When Naruko came up behind him, Imaizumi didn't notice; the footsteps were too quiet, but his heart fell back down again, and his breath hitched as soon as he felt that embrace again. Naruko pressed himself against his back, resting his head between his shoulder blades and wrapping his arms tightly around him, fingers clutching his left wrist, enclosing him in a circle.

“Where's Sakamichi?” he asked muffledly, frozen like that, and Imaizumi barely found the strength to answer.

“I think he went to the Great Hall — he missed dinner, after all... And what do you do? Do you still need this?”

Naruko tensed, but then relaxed again and exhaled, “No — I've calmed down. Just— trying to figure out how I feel about it.”

Smiling faintly, Imaizumi closed his eyes and thought he should probably try it too.

“Have any luck with that?”

“I don't get it,” Naruko snorted with a chuckle. “Wait a little longer.”

The icy January wind howled outside the window, but Imaizumi felt as if he were in the middle of summer. It was just that Naruko was warm, even hot. It was just Naruko holding him tightly, and it felt like time had stopped again.

Thinking to himself but not saying it out loud, without moving at all, Imaizumi mentally answered his request—

As long as you want.

Chapter Text

Walking through the barrier between platforms nine and ten at the big London King's Cross Station for the first time, Shunsuke Imaizumi could say he knew everything about his life ahead of time. And no, he wasn't a seer, the future hadn't reveal itself to him in some crazy prediction — it was much simpler than that. No matter how good and capable a child you were, if you belonged to a noble pureblood family and your parents were in good health, you would probably never know such a luxury as having your life at will.

It was all planned out years in advance: admission to the best wizarding school, seven years of study, further training and internships at the Ministry of Magic, official employment, marriage, and so on — Imaizumi remembered it well, though he would have preferred to forget it forever, but that was the problem — it had been drummed into his head since he was eight years old.

His father was a calm, sensible man, always busy and often absent from home. His mother was, as if in contrast, an ardent person, stubbornly defending her beliefs if anyone dared to question them. Someone like her own only son. Imaizumi had learned rather quickly that his mother was no joke and that his father wouldn't stand up for him in the event of a serious rift, because he seemed to be nothing more than an obedient follower of what his own pureblood parents had taught him. Of course, he believed that Imaizumi's mother was right about everything, though sometimes there was something like a faint flicker of regret in his eyes about his role.

And it was not just him who had a role to play, of course. Everyone has a place in this world, Mom always said — Imaizumi listened and tried desperately to understand why he couldn't argue, why he couldn't discover and explore it himself.

If you are from a pureblooded honourable family, respected by even the most powerful people in the country and the wizarding community, you should behave appropriately. You should be grateful, you should live up to your status, you should be the best.

His parents probably considered themselves something like the kings of this world, they made a fortune, they made connections by hosting lavish receptions and dinners at the manor with wizards as wealthy as themselves. Imaizumi hated those days pretty quickly because every time he felt like a puppet on a stage or an expensive souvenir inside a glass display case — look at our son, he's sure to grow up to be a great person and follow in the footsteps of his ancestors.

Arguing wasn't allowed. Saying something inappropriate wasn't allowed.

You mustn't laugh out loud, even if something really amused you. You must behave with restraint and have good manners because you are above all ordinary wizards. You stand on a pedestal.

Anyone in your place would be proud. It's much better than being born into a poor or average family or being born among Muggles at all.

That was what Mom said, and Imaizumi had to heed her words, even if most things had a downside.

It seemed like what could you regret if your family was rich and you lived a prestigious life? But when you possess something really expensive, you should expect that sooner or later others will want your treasure as well. Imaizumi was less fortunate than the others though he was not the only child in England from a wealthy family. He himself didn't know why he remembered the incident so badly, but just two years before Hogwarts he found himself unwillingly involved in an attempt to manipulate his parents. As cliché as it sounds, Imaizumi, a nine-year-old child, had been kidnapped for ransom, and that was the only thing that remained from that strange incident. His parents afterwards began to guard him even more meticulously than before, depriving him of that tiny bit of freedom that Imaizumi longed for.

That freedom, unfortunately, wasn't just about doing as he wished. It also affected the information that was available to him.

Their home library only had books approved by his parents, their parents' parents and beyond — Imaizumi read everything, hoping to find anything about the world that existed parallel to his world, that he wasn't told about, because that other world wasn't worthy of a special child like him filling his head with completely unnecessary facts.

Imaizumi wanted to see this part of reality where people without magical abilities lived, who could do without magic, but all he could settle for were stories about the structure of the wizarding world and its history.

The teachers who came in for private prep classes didn't mention anything about modern so-called Muggles, and even when Imaizumi asked, they said that if they strayed from the curriculum, they wouldn't finish in time.

There was no one else for Imaizumi to ask, because the children he only occasionally met in his house at one of the regular receptions only snorted and wrinkled their nose at any word about Muggles.

Imaizumi had been upset, but later, when he overheard his mother lamenting the fact that Hogwarts accepted half-bloods and muggle-borns, he had new hope. I'll be able to recognise people who are different from me, he thought and began counting down the months until school started.

In the summer, a couple of months after his eleventh birthday, Imaizumi received the acceptance letter from the school brought by a beautiful white owl. The pages smelled like old paper, and also stirred in his chest a fluttering anticipation of new possibilities.

I'll know more soon enough, Imaizumi mentally rejoiced but kept an ironclad restraint in front of his parents. His mother stroked his hair and kissed the top of his head, telling him that in September he would be going to the best school for the best.

“You must study diligently and do well in all your exams,” she said. “We'll be proud of you, Shunsuke, won't we?”

Imaizumi nodded and looked at his father, who was sitting in a deep armchair, reading an issue of the Daily Prophet. Father was silent as he always was, and no one could say the words Imaizumi really needed at this moment.

“Try to socialise only with children from decent families,” Mom said, insisting again. “Your best friends are bound to be purebloods, but don't worry — you won't have to worry about your surroundings, because you'll be sorted into Slytherin.”

“I'll be sorted into Slytherin?” Imaizumi asked again, clutching the envelope in his hands. He knew about the Houses of Hogwarts, and he also knew that the school had the Sorting Hat that decided on the first day of school who would be in which House.

But why would the Hat sort him specifically into Slytherin?

“What if I don't?” Imaizumi ventured to ask, but his mom frowned and ruffled his hair again.

“Your father and I were in Slytherin, and so did our parents. Slytherin would be best for you.”

Imaizumi fell silent, lowering his gaze and not wanting to argue. Mom was easily getting mad, and he didn't want to lose again at all. Neither did he want to be sorted into Slytherin.

If there were people like his parents there, it was definitely becoming the last place Imaizumi wanted to be.

Besides, as he had heard from one boy who had dreamed of being sorted into Slytherin, the students from that House usually had less than pleasant personal qualities, such as trickery, cunning, a desire to get what they wanted at any cost and a potential dislike of Muggles.

But Imaizumi never understood why his entourage disliked Muggles so much, not even giving themselves the opportunity to get to know at least one of them personally. None of the Muggles in his entire childhood had ever harmed him or done anything bad to him. So why should he be wary of them when in the wizarding world, his own world, there were those who would shamelessly kidnap someone else's child for money?

He hoped that soon he would finally find the answer to his questions on his own, but for now he was curious about one more thing.

“At school... I want to play Quidditch,” Imaizumi announced his plans during one Sunday family breakfast.

His father gave him a brief nonchalant glance, looking away from his plate, his mother pressed her lips tensely together.

“Quidditch is great,” father said without much enthusiasm, but Mom interrupted him.

“Practice can be time-consuming — are you sure you'll be able to keep up with your lessons? You have to have good grades first and foremost, and also... you could get hurt, Shunsuke. Quidditch is a dangerous sport.”

“I know,” Imaizumi replied quietly, trying to sound confident. “But, if I promise to do well in school, will I be allowed to... play Quidditch?”

“Don't get particularly attached to that thought: A career in sports is not a worthy pursuit for someone of our kind,” his father warned, and Imaizumi clenched his fists tensely.

Again. Of course, his parents were deciding everything for him again.

“Only at school. Can I have it at least just for the duration of school?” he asked hopefully and then looked at his mom. “I... will be the best. Isn't that what you want?”

Mom smiled.

“Of course you'll be the best. I have no doubt about that, Shunsuke.”

Imaizumi sighed, and vivid images came to mind — nimble broomstick players rushing through the air, the enthusiastic shouts of the fans, the stunning display of ability of the team members. His parents had only taken him to a match once during the World Cup, but it was one that Imaizumi remembered for the rest of his life. The excitement he felt watching the game was incomparable to anything else.

And when he found out about Quidditch being played at Hogwarts, he wanted to join the school even more. He was willing to try out for the team even if his parents would have turned him down. Imaizumi wanted to do something in line with his own desires.

At the end of the summer, while going to Diagon Alley to shop for school supplies, he froze in front of a display case of racing brooms and only stepped back when his mother tugged insistently on his elbow.

“Behave yourself, Shunsuke — we'll buy a broom next summer, but right now we have lots of other things to do.”

Imaizumi quietly apologised, and then his mother led him to buy his wand.

Ollivander's shop was dingy and dusty, Mom clearly didn't like the place, but she still acknowledged that it was the best place in England to buy a wand.

“We need the most... the best wand,” she said as the seller appeared.

He smiled strainedly and replied that it was much better when the wand chose its own owner.

“Naturally it'll choose him,” Mom objected stubbornly. “You do realise who is standing in front of you now, don't you— Our family deserves the best.”

Imaizumi lowered his head, ashamed, but the seller sighed defeatedly and disappeared between the racks. He returned five minutes later — Imaizumi's mother was bored and lit a thin cigarette in the shop, blowing a pungent smoke into the air that made Imaizumi want to cough, but he held back.

When the seller returned, he laid out three open boxes on the counter and described the components of each wand, naming the price at the end. According to him, they were the most expensive and rare in the shop's assortment at the moment, and Imaizumi examined each one curiously, afraid to touch. The wands were beautiful but very different. Expertly crafted and exuding energy.

Imaizumi reached out his hand, feeling a sudden confidence, and took the middle one.

“Beech and phoenix feather,” the seller reminded him with a smile. “A good wand for the intelligent beyond their years. You'll make only wise decisions and perform amazing magic.”

“Take the edge one, Shunsuke, — it's better,” Mom advised, but how was she to know? She was making her assumption based on the price tag alone.

“I need that wand,” Imaizumi tried to insist. “I realised that. I can feel it.”

Mom agreed, but apparently only because she didn't want to cause a public scandal, though Imaizumi could see her left eyebrow twitch dangerously.

They gave twelve galleons for the wand, and as they left the shop, Mom said with coldness in her voice, “Never, remember, Shunsuke, cross me again. I have lived longer than you have, and I know what is best for you. You must trust my choices because I am your mother.”

“I love you very much, you know that,” she said and kissed her son on the top of his head.

Imaizumi clutched the ribbon tied box containing his wand to his chest and smiled weakly, not listening to his mother but thinking that the day of fulfilment of his first dream was getting closer.

And now he was already standing on the nine and three-quarter platform with a large suitcase in front of him and his parents behind him. The bright red steam engine made a loud horn sound, making him wince. Everything around was so lively and noisy. Children, teenagers, their parents all around. And all of them completely different, just the way Imaizumi wanted them to be.

A fluffy white cat ran past his feet, followed immediately by a boy his age. Imaizumi smiled and glanced at his parents, but their faces expressed nothing but poorly concealed displeasure.

“Look at what they dress their children in,” his mother whispered to his father, speaking of someone, and Imaizumi only now noticed that the clothes of many of those present looked quite ordinary.

Ordinary, he repeated excitedly to himself, thinking that he wanted to get on the train and go to a school full of ordinary children who had never been told from birth how to behave or who to talk to.

“Don't forget what we told you,” Mom asked as she said goodbye, tears welling up in her eyes. Imaizumi only felt sad for a second and then tried to smile at his parents. “Don't forget who you are, and don't forget what you deserve.”

“I'll do my best,” he promised, and then they finally let him go.

Carrying his suitcase with his textbooks and other belongings into one of the carriages, Imaizumi tried to find a free compartment, but all were already occupied, and some had several people sitting in them. He didn't know if he could join any of the students, didn't know what he would talk about if he suddenly found himself talking to a half-blood or a muggleborn. He was scared, honestly, but also wanted to gain this experience he'd been thinking about for so many years.

“Er— Hi. Do you mind if I sit here? All the compartments are already taken,” Imaizumi asked cautiously, peeking behind one of the doors. The train had already started, and it would be nice to find a place to stay for the rest of the journey.

There was a boy sitting in the compartment, and without even thinking about it, Imaizumi still managed to notice how small he was: If they stood side by side, Imaizumi would be almost a full head taller. So also a first-year like him?

Also, the boy was unbearably red-haired and surprised. His hair was sticking out in different directions in some ridiculous style, he had an equally red-haired cat sitting on his lap and his clothes were clearly cheap.

“Yes, there's no one else here,” the boy agreed, apparently in complete shock, and Imaizumi, feeling awkward, made his way inside with his suitcase.

“Thank you. I'm a first-year, so it's my first time. You too, I suppose?”

“First-year? You?”

The boy was still looking at him too closely and strangely, and then he suddenly shrieked. And his voice almost made Imaizumi's ears pop.

“YOU'RE SO-O— HUGE! LIKE A TV TOWER!” the boy exclaimed, pointing his finger in an ugly way.

Imaizumi was so dumbfounded, not knowing how to react.

“TV— what?” was all he could squeeze out, not knowing what he was talking about.

“TV tower!” the boy repeated, still pointing his finger. “It's the Muggle tower! You don't know?”

“Er—” Imaizumi was confused. “No... And you— were you born into a Muggle family?” he asked hesitantly, not expecting that the first person he'd talk to on the Hogwarts Express would be a Muggleborn.

“Pfft, nah,” the boy replied, waving his palm and shattering Imaizumi's expectations. “I'm pureblood, my parents are wizards, but they're very interested in Muggle life,” he said, jabbing his thumb proudly at his chest. “I've heard that they use this really cool thing called the internet! With it and computers they can get all sorts of moving pictures fast! You know, films! It's like theatre, only it's all recorded and you can watch it a hundred times! And cartoons!”

“Cartoons—” Imaizumi repeated quietly, even more confused. Honestly, this rambling speech and information was already making his head spin.

“Yes, yes,” the boy nodded. “Everyone knows about cartoons, even the purebloods! My mom said that if we behave well, she'll set us up an internet connection too!”

“I see,” Imaizumi said, finally deciding to sit down opposite his interlocutor. “So there are a lot of you?”

“Well, yes,” the boy replied, blushing. “I have an older sister who graduated from Hogwarts last year, and two younger brothers. I can't wait until they can join me, too, and we can be in Gryffindor together!”

“Gryffindor,” Imaizumi repeated, recalling the description of the House. It seemed to be quite popular.

“And this is my cat!” the boy said, picking up a fluffy ball of fur from his lap, which was all in red cat hairs. “Her name is Dragon Claw!”

With that, Imaizumi couldn't take it anymore and quietly chuckled into his fist.

“What?” the boy asked unhappily, putting the cat back down.

“What's dragon claw got to do with it? It's a cat.”

“So what?” the boy flared up in offence. “I love dragons, but my parents won't let me have a dragon!”

Imaizumi grinned again.

“A dragon? Have you even seen yourself? You're so tiny, a dragon would tear you apart.”

“I'm not tiny — I'm still growing!” the boy jumped up angrily, throwing the cat off his lap.

She wagged her tail irritably, then jumped onto Imaizumi's seat and sat down, eyeing her neighbour with interest.

It was funny: When the boy stood up, he hardly seemed any more imposing than he was. To Imaizumi, he was still a runt, even if he himself was now sitting up.

“Okay. No offence,” Imaizumi said with a shrug, and the boy seemed to calm down.

He sat back down, snorting, and then asked, “Well, what about you? Definitely a pureblood, aren't you?”

That direct question made Imaizumi feel uneasy. He remembered his parents' words and what they had chastised him about.

Don't forget who you are...

“Well—”

“It shows,” the boy said glumly. “What's your name?”

“Shunsuke,” Imaizumi answered reluctantly.

“Hmm... Just Shunsuke? A Shunsuke who doesn't know anything about Muggles? You don't think they're even worth your attention, do you?”

There was a palpable contempt lurking in his tone, very similar to what Imaizumi usually heard from the children he had encountered before. This boy was also a pureblood, but he... was nothing like anyone Imaizumi had ever known before.

“I don't—”

“Come on, a lot of you are like that,” the boy dismissed him. “Arrogant kids from rich families. I wouldn't be surprised if your shoes alone cost more than the whole of my clothes I brought with me.”

“So it's already war, then?” Imaizumi asked, a little surprised at this sudden change in someone else's mood.

“No. I think I can survive one trip, and then we'll go our separate ways anyway,” the boy said, getting up and taking his cat back. “I don't want to ruin my first day at Hogwarts with such nonsense as a feud with a future Slytherin.”

Imaizumi frowned because he didn't like those last words at all. Why did this... little one think he was going to get into Slytherin?

“Yeah better to be in Slytherin than to be in the same House with someone who thinks so stereotypically,” Imaizumi replied nonetheless, feeling annoyed.

“Stereo-what?” the boy didn't understand, and resentment could be heard in his voice again.

“So you're also stupid?” Imaizumi smirked unfriendly. “Though... I'm not surprised.”

“Take that back!” the boy got angry. “If I don't know one clever word, that doesn't mean anything!”

“If my parents are rich, that doesn't mean anything either.”

The boy snorted and turned away.

“I didn't make that up. It's been going on for generations.”

Imaizumi decided not to say anything, he didn't want to provoke a conflict and spoil his mood on such a day. Though this conversation did make him worry about his fate. Did he really have no choice but to be sorted into Slytherin and follow in his parents' footsteps? How would he feel in that House? Would he make friends, or would he only find lucrative connections and tonnes of nauseating hypocrisy waiting for him? To be honest, Imaizumi himself wasn't entirely sure what he wanted out of his studies at Hogwarts. Maybe... he just wanted a quiet life? Wanted to learn a lot of new things and join the Quidditch team for next year. Maybe... he could put up with everything else that awaited him if he got at least that?

Thankfully, his not-so-best companion for this rough ride seemed to have calmed down and fell silent, simply staring out the window. Imaizumi decided that this wasn't a bad scenario for him... for both of them, and then pulled a Transfiguration textbook out of his suitcase and opened it to page ninety-three.

Of course, he had already read all the textbooks he had bought before the term started, but Transfiguration seemed to be the most entertaining and difficult science — Imaizumi picked up the textbook for the second time, thinking that this year he would be sure to please his parents with good grades and better scores on all his exams so that they would definitely buy him a racing broom when he got to second year and was allowed to play Quidditch.

And, to a pleasant relief, the first couple of hours of the journey passed quietly. The boy, who, by the way, never introduced himself but introduced his cat and his relatives, was dozing by the window, apparently bored, or perhaps he had just had a sleepless night, which seemed a likely explanation, given his excitement. Surely in his normal state he couldn't sit still for a minute. Nor, of course, could he talk in a calm, soft tone. Imaizumi wasn't used to people like that at all — his mother was just the epitome of restraint compared to this guy. That was probably why he felt somewhat uncomfortable. It was also probably because this guy was somehow awakening in Imaizumi a sudden desire to raise his voice to a shout like that.

When a woman peeked into their compartment and offered them sweets and juice, the boy woke up and quickly perked up. He took a very long time to choose one thing, torn between pumpkin biscuits and chocolate.

Why not take both? Imaizumi thought boredly and then realised that the boy simply had too little pocket money and didn't want to waste it all on the first day.

Imaizumi's pockets were full of coins, and there was a decent amount in his bag — he really didn't know why his parents had given him so much, and then a thought occurred to him that he later regretted.

“Give him some biscuits and chocolate,” Imaizumi said, walking over to the trolley and handing the woman two gold galleons. “And some juice, please, and you can keep the change.”

The red-haired boy opened his eyes at the coins and gasped, then jabbed his finger at Imaizumi again, almost hitting him in the chin.

“I can't believe it! Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea how much change is left in there? If you're trying to humiliate me, congratulations, you've succeeded.”

The woman hurriedly sold them sweets and juice, then hurried away as if running away from a fire, and Imaizumi rolled his eyes.

The boy, of course, refused to eat the food bought with Imaizumi's money. He indignantly folded his arms across his chest, pouting like a five year old, and proudly ignored his hunger though his stomach rumbled very loudly at times. Imaizumi didn't insist and ate the biscuits himself, but afterwards he decided to try to find a new approach to his future study companion (even if they ended up in different Houses, which was likely to be the case, they would still have to face each other in classes together).

“Do you like Transfiguration?” he asked, casually flipping through his textbook.

The boy was silent for a moment and then mumbled quietly, “I don't want to talk to arrogant rich showoffs like you who think they can do anything, even roast those who are poorer than they are.”

“Roast?” Imaizumi asked when he heard the new word. “I didn't intend to roast you, whatever that means.”

“Ha! Showoff isn't that smart either!” the boy snorted snidely and lifted his chin indignantly. “I bet you're old-fashioned and boring! Did your parents never let you out of the house?”

Imaizumi twitched his eyebrow nervously — it was almost perceptive.

“Alright,” he said calmly. “What about Quidditch?”

Well, he sure was a hit with that one, wasn't he? Everyone liked Quidditch.

“Quidditch?” the boy asked, excitement and excitement in his eyes. “Of course I love Quidditch! I've been wanting to play for years, and when I get to second year, I'm going to be on the team and play in all the official matches of my House!”

Now that was better.

Imaizumi smiled faintly and hemmed as he thought about it. What position... was this guy planning on playing? With such a small stature, it was unlikely that he would be comfortable playing one of the four positions, unless—

Seekers were often small, agile and nimble.

“I'm going to join the team next year too,” Imaizumi said, trying to keep the conversation going. “What position do you want to play?”

“A Beater!” the boy answered vigorously, and Imaizumi blinked in surprise.

Was this... was this some kind of... joke? No, was this guy really being serious? A Beater?

“Um—” Imaizumi stretched out confusedly, not knowing how best to say it. “I'm sorry, but do you— Do you even know what a Beater does on the field?”

“Of course I do!” the boy flamed with righteous rage. “They beat off Bludgers, aiming them at their opponents or deflecting them away from their own! It's the coolest position for the bravest, the most accurate and the most ruthless!”

“Okay,” Imaizumi said, scratching his cheek. “Another question, then. Bludgers... in case you didn't know, are the heaviest balls in the game, and they fly at their own speed. The Beaters have to be able to hit them while sitting on a broomstick. And you know what happens when you're sitting on a broomstick in the air instead of standing on solid ground with your own feet? That's right — you're more easily thrown off balance. Even if you're in a good position to hit the Bludger, you're just not going to have enough mass to stay on your broomstick and not fall off. And it's unlikely you'll hit it hard because, again, you don't have enough mass. That's why they use tall and big players as Beaters.”

Imaizumi finished and looked at his interlocutor, who didn't even think to show surprise or understanding.

“Oh, I suppose now you think you've saved me from the biggest mistake of my life?” the boy said, folding his arms across his chest again. “How thoughtful and how... stupid of you. Could you really think that I would decide to try my hand at Quidditch without knowing anything about it? You're such an arsehole that you think everyone you meet is a complete idiot compared to you, aren't you? Is your ego that inflated?”

“That's not what I meant,” Imaizumi replied, but he couldn't hide his tension this time.

“I've heard it a hundred times!” the boy jumped up from his seat. “My father told me the same thing, but I— I'll prove to everyone that I can become a Beater! What's more, I'll be the best! Everyone will see it, even you!”

He fell silent as abruptly as he had begun to speak. His small shoulders under his stupid denim jacket were heaving, and his breathing was heavy with rage. Imaizumi was staring at him, staring — and suddenly realised that he was trembling at the mercy of an unprecedented power. The power of this crazy guy who was trying to convey to him his ambition, his determination, his belief in himself and... his desire to be the best.

So you want to be the best, Imaizumi said mentally, feeling himself smile.

I know... what it's like... to want to become the best, but—

“Wanting to be the best isn't enough to become the best.” Imaizumi rose to his feet as well, and the boy had to raise his head to keep from breaking up the visual battle. “You can't become the best just by shouting about it like an unstable cretin.”

“What position are you going to play?” the boy asked, speaking more softly but still fiercely.

“A Chaser,” Imaizumi said confidently, smirking, and the boy licked his lips for a second, stopping the tip of his tongue near his broad upper fang.

“Excellent. Now I will look forward to the second year with even more anticipation, and then... when we meet in the field, I will destroy you. If, of course, you have the balls to pass tryouts.”

“Try growing up first,” Imaizumi snorted with a chuckle. “Otherwise you'll be the only one playing on a child's model of a broomstick. That'll be fun.”

“How dare you?” the boy hissed, losing the rest of his composure. Imaizumi had already lost it, too, actually, though this was probably the... first time in his life? “That's it. I'm not going to stand for this. I can't stand another second here — I'm leaving.”

Grabbing his cat, the boy headed towards the exit of the compartment and opened the door noisily.

“I hope to think of a spell to increase your height,” Imaizumi added one last time, as if wanting to finish him off, and the boy turned around angrily.

“How can you be such a bastard?! Shut your mouth!”

He left with a slam of the door, and with that sound, Imaizumi felt as if he had emerged from a poisonous fog. He slowly sat back down on the seat, dazedly trying to figure out what had happened, but the thoughts in his head were jumbled. It was so... strange and unfamiliar. It was the first time he'd ever spoken to someone like that. It was the first time he'd tried to hit a sore point on purpose as if this really was a battle. And he could accurately admit to himself that he preferred death rather than defeat in this battle.

How had this happened? How had a guy he didn't even really know, who he'd seen for the first time, who... hadn't even told him his name, managed to get him to this state?

Pressing his palm to his chest, Imaizumi took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but his heart was pounding insanely.

It was only the sound of the door opening again that brought him to his senses. It was him. It was the red-haired boy, and for a second, Imaizumi caught himself with the crazy thought that he was... glad to see him?

Oh shit.

“I changed my mind,” the boy announced, holding the cat on his shoulder and pointing his hand somewhere towards the end of the carriage. “I'm not leaving — you get out! I took this compartment first — it's mine, so fuck off, you idiot, and don't you dare get in my face until our first game!”

“Alright,” Imaizumi replied, surprised at himself, tucked the textbook back into his suitcase, and tried to walk out.

The boy seemed to try to shove him in retaliation when they met in the doorway, but Imaizumi was physically stronger — there was no denying that, so he simply pushed his opponent outside and raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“Why aren't you letting me go now that you've kicked me out?” he asked, looking into the boy's big, angry eyes.

He grinned, moved closer, and said almost to his face, “I forgot something.”

“Oh, yeah? What's that? Good manners in a public place?” Imaizumi asked sarcastically, but the boy smiled.

“Introduce yourself.”

“Your name is as small as your height, am I right?”

“Haha,” the boy said and then waved his hand menacingly. “This was the worst encounter of my life, but I'm Shoukichi Naruko! And I'm going to be the best Beater in all of Quidditch history! So you better remember that name!”

Talking about Beaters again? Imaizumi snorted to himself and replied, “You're so small, you could only be used as a Quaffle in a game! It's just the right colour!”

“And your pathetic insults are limited to trying to hurt me because of my height? You're disgusting!” Naruko shrieked back. “I wasn't wrong when I said that! Your place is over there in the dungeons of Hogwarts, in the darkness! So happily ever after, Slytherin!”

With those words, he seemed determined to end the conversation. Naruko closed the door behind him, leaving Imaizumi alone in the empty corridor of the carriage.

So... where was he supposed to go now?

They wouldn't get to school until after dark, which meant he'd have to find a place to go again.

With an irritated snort, Imaizumi picked up his suitcase and wandered to the back of the carriage, hoping that there was another compartment somewhere that wasn't too full. Fortunately, luck smiled upon him a couple of doors later. Through a small window he saw two guys, one of whom seemed to be trying to conjure something with his wand, and the other trying to talk him out of it.

“Um— Sorry to disturb you,” Imaizumi said quietly as he peeked through the ajar door, but the boys were apparently too engrossed to notice the disturbance right away.

The boy on the right was pointing his wand at a textbook placed on top of a tall suitcase next to the window, while the boy on the left with the funny glasses was waving his arms vigorously, hoping to stop what was happening.

“Don't worry about it — I'm an experienced wizard,” the boy with the wand said and pronounced some strange word — a spell or something? — and then the textbook burst into purple flames.

The bespectacled boy shrieked in horror. Imaizumi blinked in surprise, uncomprehending, but then realised to get out his wand, and, entering the compartment, pointed it at the burning book.

“Finite incantatem,” he said, putting out the small fire in a second, and the bespectacled boy slumped into the back of his seat, hugging the cage with the white owl and nearly passing out.

“Oh,” the other boy said, looking at the unexpected guest in amazement. “Thank you. I made a little mistake with the spell.”

“Mistake?” Imaizumi asked, lowering his wand. “I don't know what you were trying to do, but it just seems like a complete failure. What kind of idiots experiment with a spell on school textbooks?”

Late realising what he'd said, Imaizumi bit his lip, thinking that he'd be kicked out of here too and would definitely have to spend the rest of his journey in the corridor, sitting on his suitcase. But... these guys didn't seem to be planning on taking offence at him.

“Thank you,” the boy with glasses thanked him too. “That— That was awesome. Are you a third-year or older?”

“No,” Imaizumi replied, tucking his wand into his pocket. It was the first time he'd tried it out in action — he actually didn't even think he'd be able to pull off the spell he'd just seen his mother perform once, but intuition ahead of waking common sense compelled him to act. “I'm a first-year. You both are too?”

“Oh, yeah! It's great that we're the same age, maybe we'll end up in the same House! I'm Terufumi Sugimoto, nice to meet you!” the misunderstanding-guy introduced himself, and Imaizumi was embarrassed that he was so welcomed here.

“Um, I—” Imaizumi hesitated, grudgingly remembering his name. “I'm Shunsuke... you can just call me Shunsuke.”

“Cool! You're obviously very good at magic, Shunsuke! You've been practising at home, haven't you?” Sugimoto said excitedly.

“No,” Imaizumi shrugged, honestly not understanding why he was making all this nonsense when the whole school was going to hear his name at the ceremony tonight anyway.

“Of course,” Sugimoto nodded, not listening at all. “You can't master a counter-spell without proper training.”

“What about you?” Imaizumi asked, turning to the second boy. The latter flinched, clutching his cage even tighter. “What's your name?”

“Sa... Sakamichi,” the boy squeaked, seeming to feel very uncomfortable. “Just Sakamichi.”

He tried to smile after that, and Imaizumi realised that everything was indeed alright. These guys were happy to let him sit in their compartment, and the rest of the journey went exactly as he had expected when he entered the carriage in the morning. Sugimoto turned out to be a pure-blooded wizard with a bad mania for experimenting with a wand. Sakamichi said he was from a Muggle family, and Imaizumi had questioned him about the Muggle world and its technology almost until the train arrived at Hogsmeade, eagerly absorbing information that was far more accessible than what red-haired moron Naruko was blabbing about.

But all good things ended sooner or later. The journey came to an end, and Imaizumi regretfully realised that the Sorting ceremony was just around the corner.

After the first-years were taken to the school by the lake through the night darkness and then allowed into the Great Hall, Imaizumi couldn't even find the energy to admire the stunning views. Hogwarts was amazing. Even though Imaizumi had seen it in photos, it was much more admirable in person. Well, at least he tried to think so, but all the emotions were thwarted by the excitement of what awaited him.

Slytherin, yeah? Would the Hat say Slytherin?

When Professor, who introduced herself as the Transfiguration teacher and Head of Gryffindor, brought out a stool with the Sorting Hat and began calling out the first-years on the list, Imaizumi's palms trembled. His last name wasn't too far off the top — he knew the queue would reach him quickly, and he wasn't wrong. The Hat was dealing with the students rather abruptly, sorting them into their Houses. Two had already left for the Slytherin table, and Imaizumi couldn't stop thinking about the fact that he would probably have to follow them.

Was he really afraid of that?

When Professor said his name after the hushed applause for the girl who had been sent to Hufflepuff, Imaizumi's heart collapsed and a red-hot desert prevailed in his throat.

He barely forced himself to move towards the stool, and then, when he heard an indistinguishable whisper behind his back, he wanted to get out of here. He was known, he was talked about, the Slytherins were waiting for him.

Sitting down on the stool and placing the Sorting Hat on his head, Imaizumi tried not to look at the other students, and then the old musty underside of the Hat blocked his view.

“Well, well, well,” came a strange muffled voice, making him even more nervous. “It seems that this is going to be much more difficult than the previous times. Your head is a chaos of thoughts and doubts, and the qualities of your personality— Interesting. Interesting.”

The voice fell silent, and nothing at all was heard for a while. Imaizumi felt like he was trapped in a dense bubble where no sound could penetrate. It seemed to him that he was left completely alone here.

That's how he'll feel, isn't it? If he got into Slytherin. Alone because there would be no one who could understand him, get close enough to him to gain something... called a connection.

Yes. Because there wouldn't be someone like Naruko in Slytherin.

Imaizumi pressed his lips together, trying to hold back a smirk because he really wanted to laugh now, but he realised that the whole school was looking at him, Naruko included. But why the hell was he thinking about him at a time like this?

“This is taking a long time, don't you think?” a distant voice sounded, breaking him out of his trance, but Professor interrupted the tactless student.

“Quiet. It happens when the decision is difficult. Just be patient.”

Decision is difficult? Imaizumi asked to himself. What decision? He belonged in Slytherin, after all.

But then the Hat spoke again, seemingly making sure that only Imaizumi could hear its voice.

“You're thinking right. Slytherin would be a good fit for you. You have ambition and goals. You could be outstanding if I put you in that House, but—”

But? Imaizumi mentally asked, and the voice chuckled softly.

“Your mind. Your desire for truth, your curiosity. When all those things are mixed together, you get something amazing. Ravenclaw is a great fit for you, too.”

Better Ravenclaw than Slytherin, Imaizumi thought, looking at the new prospect. The House for those who love science, the House for the smartest and most creative — why not?

“But there's something else—” the Hat said, and its voice was once again interrupted indefinitely.

Imaizumi realised that he was tired of sitting, that his fingers were numb because he was gripping the stool too tightly, but he also couldn't move. He couldn't get up and leave until the Hat made its decision.

Slytherin or Ravenclaw.

Please hurry, I can't stand this wait any longer, Imaizumi mentally pleaded, and the Hat answered him again.

“I see those, too. Some other qualities that you can only fully realise if you get into the right House. It seems you don't want to follow the path destined for you without any will, right?”

“That's right,” Imaizumi agreed.

“And, of course, I have an answer for you that will allow you to achieve what you desire—”

Imaizumi bit his lip, and the Hat on his head shrieked almost deafeningly, “GRIFFINDOR!”

It was like a gunshot. Imaizumi gasped, not understanding anything, and then barely realised to take off Hat. There were hundreds of surprised eyes looking at him. He felt awful, and he couldn't believe it. What? Gryffindor?

“You may proceed to your House table, congratulations,” Professor, the Head of Gryffindor, now his Head too, said demurely.

Imaizumi flinched, hurriedly got off the stool, leaving the Hat on it, and moved on numb legs towards, good Lord, the Gryffindor table.

His new mates, very much slowing down, finally began to greet him with applause, and Imaizumi tensely took a seat on a vacant bench.

“That was a real long time,” someone said, gently clapping him on the shoulder.

“A whole eternity!” another student added.

“I almost fell asleep,” a third complained. “That's a record. A new record, anyway.”

“Congrats dude, we're glad you joined us.”

Imaizumi could only nod, and he was still in complete shock. These people— Were they really happy to see him at their table? But Gryffindor— How could this even happen? The House for the brave and honest? The House for true, as they sometimes still liked to say of Gryffindor, heroes. What the hell was Imaizumi supposed to be doing here? And what would his parents say when they found out—

But there seemed to be no way to fix anything now. Besides, the Sorting ceremony continued, new students were coming up to the Hat, but soon Professor circled the remaining group of first-years with an attentive glance, after which she frowned tensely and, interrupting the ceremony, called the children's chaperone to Hogwarts to her. They exchanged a few phrases in a very quiet whisper, after which Professor seemed to get angry and raised her tone, allowing to make out, but not without difficulty, a firm order, “Find him now! We mustn't let anything happen to him!”

They lost one of their students? Imaizumi marvelled to himself, but not for long as the ceremony resumed again. And it quickly made it clear that his own joining the Gryffindors wasn't the biggest problem yet.

It was Naruko's turn, and the Hat, naturally thinking for only a few seconds, sent him to Gryffindor, and soon he was sitting at the same table directly across from Imaizumi, glaring at him with a hateful look.

“Oh shit,” Naruko said. “How am I going to beat you at Quidditch when we're on the same team if we make tryouts?”

What Imaizumi really didn't understand was how he was going to stand the constant presence of this redheaded ball of emotion around him. They'd have to spend time in the same common room, sleep in the same dormitory, go to all their classes and meals together. Shit. Maybe Slytherin wasn't such a bad option?

The Sorting ceremony continued. A little while later, another new Gryffindor appeared next to Imaizumi, and then shaking Onoda sat next to Naruko — he didn't seem to be looking forward to being in this House either, but the Hat seemed determined to test everyone's nerves today.

“Fucking great,” Naruko said, propping his cheek with his fist. “The company of a rich arrogant prick and an uptight nerd. Am I allowed to hate this school already?”

Onoda flinched, trying to move away from Naruko, and Imaizumi gritted his teeth, “Shut your filthy mouth before I help you.”

“What, even filthier than yours?” Naruko smirked snidely. “We'll find out about that later, won't we?”

Imaizumi smirked back — and that's exactly how it started. All three of the people he'd spoken to on the Hogwarts Express had sorted into the same House with him. After the start-of-term feast was over, during which Naruko never gave up trying to throw some food at Imaizumi, the Head Boy took everyone to the Gryffindor common room, showing them the way and telling them to remember the temporary password.

Then, of course, the first year boys were sent to the common dorm, and Imaizumi had no idea how it was that his and Naruko's beds were next to each other, as if mockingly representing the first and grandest attempt of circumstances to ruin his parents' plans.

* * *

Red. There was so much red that Imaizumi's eyes ached. The curtains, the tapestries, the carpet on the floor, the canopies hung on the high posts of the beds, the bedspreads on the beds, Naruko's hair. Such an interior colour scheme seemed to make one go crazy, and Imaizumi honestly didn't really see how he would be able to get used to it.

The other, if you didn't count Onoda, students who had gone up to the first-year's dormitory with Imaizumi (five in total) were much more impressed. Naruko was yelling like a madman again, as if he'd seen the eighth wonder of the world. No, there wasn't really anything to admire here, and anyway, Imaizumi's one bedroom in manor was four times the size of this one for the five of them.

Imaizumi found his suitcase, took a seat on the bed next to him, and began laying out his textbooks on the dresser. He hoped to sort through his things quickly and just go to bed because classes were starting tomorrow, but he was distracted from his plans by a new shriek of the same redheaded madness.

What else is there? He saw the lion-shaped candlestick?

Raising his head tiredly, Imaizumi looked ahead and one bed from him he saw the incident.

It turned out that Onoda, who was still shaking from nerves or fear (Imaizumi didn't know for sure), had just dropped something of his belongings, and Naruko had picked it up and yelled again.

“Really? These are Muggle comics?” he shouted, flipping through the book and looking at it in amazement. “And nothing moves really! And the text doesn't appear on the pages, it's all originally printed! Wow! And you understand all that?”

Onoda shuddered and began to rub another comic book confusedly.

“Well... yeah. There are other ways of expressing action used here...”

“Cool!” Naruko marvelled. “You must be a genius! You're from a Muggle family, aren't you? Why didn't you say so in the first place?”

“Well— I—” Onoda squeaked, but Naruko didn't even let him finish.

“Do you have internet at home too?” he asked excitedly.

“Er— yeah, sure.”

“Wow! And you watch films? And cartoons? And play games on the computer?”

“Yes, every day...” Onoda nodded. “At least until I got to Hogwarts...”

“That's amazing!” Naruko exclaimed and put one arm around Onoda's neck, pulling him close. Onoda looked like he was going to faint or die. “I've always wanted to meet someone like you! It's great that we're in the same House! You should be my best friend! We're gonna be the coolest friends ever!”

Imaizumi sighed and, coughing into his fist, said, “I think everyone has their own right to decide who to be friends with.”

Naruko glared at him grimly and let go of pale Onoda but immediately moved over to him again to speak, “Now, don't ever listen to this guy, and stay away from him in general.”

Naruko, of course, didn't even bother to lower his tone enough for Imaizumi not to hear him.

“Speak for yourself. You're the one who's best not to be messed with, or you could go deaf or get a mania for exaggerating your abilities,” Imaizumi said glumly, and Naruko almost growled.

“Um— I think,” Onoda hesitantly interjected, not raising his head, “that Shunsuke isn't bad... And he helped us a lot on the train...”

“Thank you, Sakamichi,” Imaizumi nodded, smiling slightly.

“I'm sure he only did it for some nefarious gain,” Naruko snorted, and Imaizumi couldn't take it anymore.

Abruptly rising to his feet and stepping forward, he said, “I don't intend to hear it from you. If you don't stop—”

Naruko smirked cheekily. He threw off his shoes and suddenly jumped onto the bed, stepped straight towards Imaizumi and stopped in front of him, smugly tucking his hands into his sides.

“And? That won't help you — you're still small,” Imaizumi said though he still had to lift his head to look Naruko in the face.

“I know. So how's that feel?” still smirking, Naruko asked.

“How's feel what?”

“Look at someone from below? What are you going to do to me? I'm not leaving here — you'll have to put up with it.”

Imaizumi sighed irritably. Leaning over, he wrapped his arms around Naruko's knees and slung him onto his shoulder, moving to the side.

“Hey! What the fuck are you doing? Let go!” Naruko began to resent him, swinging his arms and legs in protest.

Imaizumi ignored these attempts to break free and headed for the window.

Naruko was light as a feather, though he was surprisingly strong enough that it seemed Imaizumi'd be able to count the bruises on his back tomorrow.

“I'm going to throw you out of the tower to make my life easier.”

“WHAT?”

“Um, guys, maybe we shouldn't?” Onoda intervened fearfully. “Let's live as friends — didn't the prefect say we're like a family now?”

Imaizumi snorted with a chuckle. Family, huh?

Turning around, he tossed Naruko onto the bed and straightened up, seeing the indescribable cocktail of emotions on the redheaded boy's face.

“I'm kidding,” Imaizumi smiled, and Naruko squirmed indignantly, moving to the headboard. It seemed he was scared after all. Did he really believe it?

“Shove your jokes you know where—”

Imaizumi picked up the fallen comic book, handed it to flustered Onoda, and turned to Naruko again.

It was hard to hold back a victorious smile.

“So what are you going to do to me? I'm not leaving here — you'll have to put up with it.”

Chapter Text

Imaizumi woke up to the loud voice of Sugimoto, who was having a heated discussion with another dorm mate. It was early, as it turned out later, when Imaizumi, wrinkling his nose and yawning, found his alarm clock and looked at the time — everyone was usually still asleep at this hour, so what was the reason for such a cheerful mood at such an early hour?

“Today's a special day,” Sugimoto said, throwing his textbooks and parchments into his bag.

“Shit,” Imaizumi cursed under his breath, wishing he could hide under his pillow and not go out at all.

How could he have forgotten?

Glancing over to the next bed, Imaizumi saw Onoda sleeping sweetly, hugging the corner of the blanket amusingly with his cheek pressed against it. Naruko next to him was also still sleeping soundly in his bed for the time being — and both of these pictures caused involuntary envy.

Thankfully, noisy Sugimoto left soon after, taking his friend with him — they'd probably gone down to the common room to discuss the plans for the day with the rest of the guys, which was just some stupid annual tradition, But Imaizumi couldn't go back to sleep even though it was still fifteen minutes before his alarm clock sounded. All he had to do was lie in bed and curse the stupid girls' holiday.

The two remaining residents of the fourth-year dormitory woke up soon after, and they, unlike many of the guys who were going crazy that day, weren't too happy about Valentine's Day either. Yes, it was the fourteenth of February. Again. And Imaizumi honestly didn't understand what there was to be so happy about. A lot of attention, unnecessary fuss, ridiculous confessions — last year a girl had asked him out on a date, taking advantage of the occasion, which had made him feel terribly awkward, not knowing how to refuse, but the girl, fortunately, had understood him without words. And he didn't want a repeat of something like this. Didn't want to think about what to do with the mountain of valentines he'd been given. He didn't want to think about how he'd make another rejection if someone suddenly tried to ask him out again.

It wasn't that he was completely against dating or the possibility of just spending time with some pretty girl — rather, he was afraid of the consequences because he was more than well aware of the fact that he shouldn't be thinking about romantic relationships with anyone. What was the point of them if his parents would eventually choose a match for him on their own? Those thoughts always made him feel queasy and lousy. Imaizumi didn't like to think about it, but it was the fourteenth of February every year that reminded him of his not-so-pleasant fate.

This time, however, things threatened to get even worse.

Imaizumi didn't realise it right away. Naruko decided that he had to brush his teeth over the sink that Imaizumi had chosen, even though they were all the same. Imaizumi didn't want to give in, causing a small scuffle in the bathroom, after which Naruko, with toothpaste-smeared hair, snorted angrily and left for the shower, allowing him to finally finish his routine in peace.

They left the common room in the last few rows when they were left with almost only first-years in the room, who weren't particularly interested in a romantic winter celebration just yet. But after spending almost four years at this school, you can, fortunately or not, gain a lot of admirers. Especially if you're a member of your House's Quidditch team, which two years ago had finally managed to take the title away from the perennial champion, Slytherin.

The Great Hall was, of course, much noisier than usual. The owls were already slowly delivering the morning mail, which wasn't limited to newspapers or letters from relatives.

As soon as Imaizumi took his seat, the first card fell onto the table in front of him two seconds later, causing him to sigh tiredly. Sometimes he thought that girls only clung to him because of his name and the status of his parents — indeed, Imaizumi didn't consider himself handsome or at all worth to the attention of the opposite sex. He wasn't charismatic, he wasn't outgoing, so what was there to like about him?

The Valentine's cards near Naruko kept incoming too, and unlike Imaizumi, he read everything with care and emotion. It had been like this in previous times too — nothing had changed, but now Imaizumi was somehow catching himself thinking that he was— what? Annoyed? Why would he be annoyed at all? Shouldn't he be happy for his friend? Naruko loved getting attention, and right now he was almost glowing with smugness. Though... later on, his happy mood did fade.

Imaizumi chuckled at the fact that Naruko was getting cards even from boys, Naruko got mad at him because Imaizumi didn't read his valentines at all, and then— The next thing that happened was a complete nonsense.

Naruko suddenly announced that he liked someone.

Imaizumi replied, “Me too,” before he could even think seriously about it, but that was always the way it was with Naruko — when it came to arguing with him, words usually came out before the thought process began, though usually Imaizumi always preferred to think first and then speak.

Naruko liked someone...

Well, that wasn't surprising — the red-haired energy charge socialised with a lot of boys and girls from his House, he had acquaintances even at Hufflepuff. Most of all, of course, he spent time with him and Onoda, but sometimes you could see him in other company, and in general— Naruko had the energy to keep in contact with a lot of people when Imaizumi had almost no friends at all, and Onoda had enough of the Quidditch team and Manami's company.

It was silly not to expect Naruko to take a serious interest in someone sooner or later. They weren't kids anymore; they were fourth year students — at that age it was easy to fall in love for the first time or just start looking at someone romantically.

Except why did Imaizumi find it so stressful? And why the hell had he said he liked someone too? That was a lie — he couldn't reproduce in his head the image of any girl he actually liked even a little bit in that very sense. A whole other memory came to mind, though. Of Naruko hugging him in the Gryffindor common room last month, and then in the dorm. It made it feel so good and awkward that Imaizumi got angry.

Naruko wanted a contest where the loser would tell who he liked, and once again Imaizumi responded before he thought. Good thing there was sensible Onoda among them, who was able to talk them out of their eagerness to skip their lessons and go to the Quidditch pitch to get equipment and play against each other.

At first, Imaizumi couldn't say that he was really interested who Naruko started to like (or maybe he had liked someone for a long time), but something changed over the course of the day. Imaizumi couldn't stop thinking about it during class, imagining different options, trying to remember who Naruko talked about the most, but the girls didn't really grab his attention for long. Naruko liked to talk about Manami the most, to say some regular nonsense about him or whatever, but of course that was bullshit. Imagining this picture of Naruko admitting that he really liked Manami, Imaizumi couldn't help himself and laughed quietly in class, for which he received a reprimand from the Professor and a look of incomprehension from Naruko himself.

Was that even possible? Not that Naruko liked Manami, but that Naruko could like some guy? What a fun! Imaizumi thought and bit his lip, leaning over his desk to keep from laughing again.

What would even have to happen for one guy to start liking another guy? It was a complicated question, Imaizumi quickly realised and glanced at the back of Onoda sitting in front of him. Now that was someone who definitely liked Manami in every possible and impossible way. It seemed to be quite mutual between the two of them, but Imaizumi had never really thought about why such a thing happened. Was the attraction to people of his own sex something inherent from birth, or... did a certain worldview-turning event have to take place for it to happen? Or maybe he just needed to meet the right person to make him realise that hugging a boy, for example, could be just as good as hugging a pretty girl?

Oh shit, Imaizumi muttered to himself, realising that his thoughts had taken him in the wrong direction again. Why couldn't he just get that ridiculous day out of his head? There was nothing special about what had happened then — Naruko had just needed support, and Imaizumi had just been there for him. It was just that his heart had nearly stopped and he'd felt so warm that for a moment Naruko, who had always pissed him off, had seemed like the most amazing being in the world.

That was... definitely sucked.

As a result, Imaizumi accomplished nothing at the end of today's lessons, having failed to come up with a single decent option for Naruko to like. Neither could come up with a convenient competition for themselves, though it was obvious that Naruko was seriously into the idea. What, did he want to win so badly and find out who Imaizumi liked? Honestly, it was a bad outcome. If the contest did take place and Naruko won, Imaizumi would have to say that he had just lied, but then Naruko would make fun of him again, calling him callous, unfeeling and cold. Maybe even conjuring up words like 'inhuman' and 'monster', which would be actually very unpleasant. Imaizumi didn't like it when Naruko talked about him in that way, because he himself had learnt to truly appreciate his House, his team, his friends during his years at Hogwarts. He had grown attached to all of these people, some stronger, some weaker, but the moments when he really started to feel emotion and when he really wanted to express it were still rare. Imaizumi couldn't help it. And he couldn't stand it when Naruko called him unfeeling because of it.

On the other hand, he could lie, make up that he liked some girl, name the prettiest Gryffindor student. If it came to that, of course. If, of course, Imaizumi lost.

But that could also have some unpleasant consequences. Naruko wasn't very good at keeping his mouth shut — if he blabbed to anyone, this pretty girl might think it was a signal for her to act. It would be even worse if Imaizumi had to apologise to her and say he'd made it all up.

The situation was not in his favour, no matter how he looked at it.

Back in the dorm after class, the first thing Imaizumi did was throw the new valentines into his own pile of other cards, before pulling off the robe he was tired of wearing all day.

And then the worst thing that could have been expected happened. Naruko suddenly spotted a box of Wizard's Chess, offered to play a game to settle their dispute, and Imaizumi thought with great annoyance that he should have hidden the unfortunate box away. If it were any other competition, he'd have a better chance of winning, but here was the problem: In all the time they had been playing chess together, Naruko had become a pretty good player. So good, in fact, that he beat Imaizumi every other time.

Unfortunately, to refuse would be to admit weakness and cowardice, which Imaizumi naturally couldn't do. He had to clench his teeth, grab the chess and follow satisfied Naruko downstairs to the common room to play a game and try not to lose.

“You have to make sure everything is fair, Sakamichi,” Naruko said with a wide grin, dragging Onoda along with them.

Onoda, it was very obvious, didn't want to stay in the common room and watch them play at all. He urged them to forget about the ridiculous argument and go to Hogsmeade like everyone else was going to do, but Naruko didn't think to listen to him.

Imaizumi, in principle, would rather go to Hogsmeade too: Such an alternative even appealed to him now. He was already prepared to accept the fact that he wouldn't find out who Naruko liked, and if it gave him the chance not to worry about having to confess himself in case of defeat, he was willing to do anything.

As they took the round table and Imaizumi prepared everything for the game, he became genuinely anxious. Naruko was definitely determined to win. He planned to win and even let Imaizumi take the white pieces to start the game. Onoda, on the other hand, sat on the floor with a distressed look, prepared to watch them play though there was no need for a referee. It was impossible to cheat in Wizard's Chess, so shouldn't they have let his poor friend go to Hogsmeade? Teshima and Aoyagi might well have taken him into their company, and then, after the game, Imaizumi and Naruko would have followed them.

After the game, Imaizumi thought to himself and drew his eyebrows together tensely. He honestly didn't even want to imagine what would happen after it. What if he lost — and the possibility of him losing was one to one? It seemed he had to come up with some sort of solution immediately.

But that was difficult too because he had to focus all his attention on the game and try to calculate Naruko's possible moves. They both thought for a long time after each of their actions, and the game dragged on. Watching them from the sidelines must have been boring.

After an hour, Imaizumi began to feel more confident because the advantage was still on his side and was unlikely to go to Naruko. He was sitting in the chair opposite, hunched over, folding his arms across his chest and biting his lip. Deciding whether or not to make a rook move, Imaizumi smiled to himself, remembering that Naruko always struck that pose when he was thinking about a rook. It was kind of funny. Onoda was almost asleep and was hardly following the game. All right, this would all be over soon.

A few more decisive moves dragged on for fifteen minutes, and Imaizumi suddenly saw a path to victory. Giving the command to the king one last time, he grinned contentedly, and his piece dragged Naruko's piece off the field.

“Checkmate,” Imaizumi said, feeling probably the biggest relief of his life.

Naruko, naturally, perked up immediately. And he didn't seem to believe what had just happened at all.

“No! No way! How did you even think of that?! I've calculated all your moves!”

“Not all of it,” Imaizumi smiled again, leaning back in his comfortable chair.

Naruko was getting a little too excited, seemingly unwilling to accept defeat. Or was it the fact that now he would have to fulfil his part of the agreement?

He jumped to his feet and began gesticulating frantically.

“So you cheated! Sakamichi, tell me, he cheated!” Naruko almost shrieked, looking at Onoda for help.

But Onoda shrugged his shoulders and, swaying slightly, stood up as well.

“It's Wizard's Chess,” he said. “How can you cheat?”

For a second Naruko's eyes flashed with despair. He bit his lip, lowered his gaze, and fell silent. Was he really that upset about the chess game? Imaizumi thought in surprise but kept his mask of equanimity.

Now he had the perfect opportunity to find out who it was. Who was the person Naruko's heart had responded to. Imaizumi felt a sort of almost evil anticipation as if he was about to be told the name of his most sworn enemy. What, was he going crazy? Was he about to compete with someone already? Was he so possessive that he didn't want anyone else to infiltrate their tight circle of three or for Naruko to start spending less time with them? Or did he... just want to be in the shoes of this person Naruko liked? What a crazy thing to say.

But nevertheless, rising to his feet too, Imaizumi looked at Naruko and said with stiffness, “Well. I'm waiting.”

All three of them froze without making a single sound. Naruko was still looking down and stubbornly silent. It went on like that for probably half a minute, and then he finally dared to speak. Not what was required of him, though.

“I've changed my mind. I'm not going to speak.”

Onoda visibly relaxed. Imaizumi hemmed. It was foreseeable, but he had his own move for that.

“What, you got cold feet?” he asked with a sneer, and Naruko blushed.

“No way! It's not cowardice! It's just that it's... it's... personal!” he declared, waving his hands emotionally.

“Personal?” Imaizumi grinned. “I don't think it's appropriate when we know what time and how you went to the toilet every day.”

Onoda, hearing that, abruptly turned away and chuckled into his palm. Imaizumi would have laughed too, but the desire to know the truth overshadowed all the fun.

“It's completely different here!” Naruko didn't give up, paying no attention to anyone else's reaction.

“You lost. I won fair and square. Then keep your end of the bargain,” Imaizumi replied, showing that he had no intention of giving in either. No way, he definitely couldn't give up now when he was already so close.

“Come on, Shoukichi. There's no one here but us anyway,” Onoda said with a smile, glancing around the empty common room — the remaining second-years had left half an hour ago. “We won't tell the others, I promise. Right, Shunsuke?”

Onoda was apparently curious too, and Imaizumi smiled for a second, glancing at him and mentally thanking him. Afterwards he looked at Naruko again and said with equanimity, “No one cares who the cause of his suffering is.”

“Then leave me alone if you don't care!” Naruko was ashamedly indignant.

“No,” Imaizumi replied, folding his arms across his chest. “For the sake of principle. If you've lost, speak up. Maybe I won't even laugh.”

Naruko bit his lip again, then exploded with all his fury.

“Merlin's panties! Why are you so unbearably annoying? You want to hear it, do you? Oh, here you are! It's you! You-you-you! I like you, you arsehole, all right?!” he blurted out abruptly and mercilessly, and then he stopped talking just as abruptly, blushed harder, and lowered his gaze again.

Imaizumi staggered back like that, eyes wide open. This was something he hadn't expected. Naruko said now... what?

What?

Is he fucking crazy? Is he joking? Or—

Completely unsure of how to react to such words, Imaizumi slowly raised his hand, clamped his open mouth with the palm of his hand, and realised that his cheeks were beginning to flame. Was he really embarrassed about this?

Naruko was silent for a moment longer. He seemed shocked at what he had said himself, but he soon came to his senses and exploded again.

“And don't look at me like that! You arsehole! If you tell anyone, I'll bury you in the ground without a wand and your broom with you, too!” Naruko threatened and then, without further explanation, just ran out of the common room, leaving stunned Imaizumi and Onoda behind.

And... what was that just now?

Tell anyone? Was Naruko serious? Who would believe such nonsense? Everyone knew that he and Imaizumi fought almost every day. Even as friends, they were frankly lousy. Naruko's romantic attraction to him? That would never happen in a lifetime.

Coming to his senses, Imaizumi glanced at still surprised Onoda, then realised to tell him, “Not a word about this to anyone.”

Onoda nodded slowly, continuing to stare with an astonished look, and Imaizumi went to the exit as well.

He didn't know why he was doing this. But something, perhaps intuition, made him follow Naruko, find him to... what? To talk about his confession? Why? God, this was all so strange. No, Naruko's words definitely couldn't be true. But then why was he acting like that? Why was he blushing? Why did he run away when he should have just laughed, pointed a finger at Imaizumi and said, “Waaaah, you should see your face right now, Hotshot! Did you fall for that? What an idiot!”

And why was this situation affecting Imaizumi himself so much? He was ready to swear that he had never felt like this before. He was stunned, caught off guard, but at the same time his heart was pounding frantically in his chest and a strange airy feeling had settled in his stomach. And he so badly... wanted to grab Naruko now and squeeze him in a hug.

What on earth was this?

Was he being such an idiot because he seemed to like Naruko too?

Like him? That is the reason for this?

Stopping on the stairs, Imaizumi stared at his feet in amazement and suddenly realised everything. That was why he had so easily said he liked someone too when Naruko had stated it this morning. That was why he'd reacted the way he had when Naruko had received valentines, and why he'd gotten so excited at the possibility of finding out about the object of his affection. It was quite simple.

It was jealousy.

It was because he liked Naruko in a way he should never have liked him.

Oh shit, Imaizumi mentally scolded and hurried downstairs.

He didn't know where Naruko had run off to. He was nowhere to be seen, but for some reason Imaizumi decided to look in the library, the first place on the way down that he could always get to before curfew.

It was certainly strange to think that Naruko would choose to stay here, but he wouldn't have time to stealthily escape to a floor even lower, and Imaizumi decided to risk checking the library first.

It was practically empty inside. As he walked forward, looking around, he only came across a couple of first-years doing homework at one of the tables, but then he finally spotted Naruko. He was indeed here. Sitting at an empty table, folding his hands on the table top and resting his forehead against them. Imaizumi shuddered at the sight of him and realised that he was definitely finished.

He liked Naruko. Perhaps they liked each other mutually. What could be worse than that?

“Hey,” Imaizumi called softly and hesitantly, stepping towards the table, and Naruko jumped up on the spot, startled. “That was really stupid, hiding from me in the library.”

“Why did you come here?” Naruko snarled, pulling his head away from his hands.

Imaizumi sighed, forcing himself to move closer and sit down on the chair opposite Naruko. The latter gave him a disgruntled look, but his cheeks were still flaming, and it was the first time Imaizumi was able to look at Naruko like that. He suddenly saw him not as the perpetually annoying guy but as someone who made his heart flutter in his chest with excitement. Naruko wasn't ridiculously small — he was adorably small. Naruko's hair wasn't disgustingly red — it was cool, to the point of a suffocating desire to touch it, to bury his nose in it. And his fangs, which had always seemed silly, now somehow made him want to feel them with his own tongue.

Imaizumi felt dizzy. He closed his eyes for a few seconds to regain consciousness, then asked, “Is it true? What you said.”

Naruko snorted unhappily and muttered, “I lost — that's why I told the truth. What do you want? You want to laugh? Then hurry up and get out of here. I don't want to see you.”

Imaizumi thought he was going to die. Leaning his head over the table, he tried not to groan, then realised he was smiling. God, he probably hadn't been this happy even when they won the Quidditch Cup.

“Don't act like this is a problem,” he said, lifting his head and trying to regain his composure.

Naruko turned away, frowning.

“I'm not acting like it is. I don't care about it, okay?”

Really? And you look completely different, Imaizumi thought, trying not to smile again. Holy shit, where was he before? Where was he looking? Why hadn't he noticed that Naruko was so— so incredible.

“How long ago... did you realise that?” Imaizumi asked without thinking, and Naruko looked at him in surprise.

“Are you serious? That's just disgusting! Why don't you tell me how gross I am? Why don't you tell me to never dare come near you again? That's how you're supposed to react — a guy confessing to you! That's nasty!” Naruko raised his tone but quickly quieted down, apparently remembering that they were in the library and could be kicked out of here for making noise.

“Are you stupid?” Imaizumi replied with a chuckle. “Don't talk like you're a homophobic idiot. Or maybe I look like one? Is that what you think? Your best friend... our best friend is dating a guy. You think I'm not used to the fact that guys can like each other? And there's nothing... nothing nasty about it, as long as it's their true feelings.”

“It's different here,” Naruko disagreed, lowering his gaze. “It's okay when it doesn't involve you. I... I'm really disgusted... I look at you... every time you change clothes but don't notice. Fuck.”

Imaizumi blinked in surprise, not knowing what to say. It was embarrassing to him. Funny. And also pleasant. It felt really, really pleasant for some reason.

“I tried to reassure myself that I was just jealous because you're tall and you're stronger. If I was like you, I'd be a much better Quidditch player. I would have... could have become truly amazing. But being jealous...I should have hated you, and I... I wanted different. I wanted to tell all those girls staring at you with hungry eyes that I wouldn't give you to them.”

I wouldn't either, Imaizumi almost replied and grinned.

“Oh, you're possessive.”

“I know,” Naruko said desperately and buried his face in his bent arms again. “But what right do they have? They don't know anything about you. They weren't with you when the most important things happened. They didn't fight alongside you. They've never felt as if you were... part of themselves... I realised this... probably the moment we talked after I fought with Sakamichi. You calmed me down. You stayed by my side, and for a second I had a horrible thought. The thought that I could cope even if I lost him, but if you stayed by my side. I'm sorry, that's so disgusting. Don't make yourself listen to it.”

“Hey,” Imaizumi called out quietly. “It's okay, really. I'm not disgusted — I... I guess I'm glad about that.”

“What?” Naruko exhaled, raising his head.

“I—” Imaizumi said, feeling embarrassed. “I guess what I meant to say was... I like you too. Um— a little bit.”

“In a romantic sense?” Naruko blinked.

“Yes...” Imaizumi replied, already without a shred of doubt.

Naruko's face was frozen with surprise mixed with shock. He opened his mouth, then struggled to speak.

“You... what? Really? Are you crazy? You're not allowed! How can you even say that? I'm a nobody, and you're growing up to take one of the seats on the throne with the other rich and cool bigwigs. You can't like middle class people like me. It's impossible.”

“Who cares,” Imaizumi interrupted him abruptly, and then smiled weakly. “What does it matter what you are? Boy or girl. Pureblood or not. Rich or not. I like you.”

Naruko blushed, seemingly to the very tips of his ears. Imaizumi slid his palm across the table, holding out his hand, and Naruko, not thinking long, took it gingerly, squeezing his fingers.

“I see,” he said quietly, sinking down again and resting his head on his free hand. “It's... not so awful, is it? It's just sympathy, not a crush.”

“Not a crush,” Imaizumi repeated, wanting to believe those words.

“That's not going to happen. I'll never fall in love with you,” Naruko said.

“I'll never fall in love with you,” Imaizumi repeated again, feeling stranger than ever. As if they were negotiating a battle. As if falling in love meant losing.

And Naruko was saying all of this while holding his hand with his hot palm, as always, like he was... a flame. A fire that couldn't burn, but could... drive you crazy.

I will never fall in love with you, Imaizumi mentally said once more, squeezing his fingers tighter.

Because otherwise... disaster will happen.

“Don't repeat after me,” Naruko said with a chuckle, and Imaizumi smiled.

“Okay,” he replied to his surprise.

There was no need for more words. They both fell silent, just continuing to sit in silence and hold hands, and Naruko's palm warmed Imaizumi's slightly frozen hand so pleasantly that he wished the moment would never end.

And somehow they were not afraid that someone might see them here, in a moment of such intimacy — and this was indeed intimacy for them. The most special, and the most exciting. It was the first time Imaizumi felt so close to someone. It was as if he and Naruko really were part of something one. And it was an unforgettable feeling.

They didn't wake up until a while later when Naruko suddenly jumped up on the spot and said, “Merlin! We forgot about Sakamichi! He wanted to go to Hogsmeade!”

Imaizumi blinked sleepily, but then it came to him too. Letting go of Naruko's hand first, he stood up abruptly.

“Indeed. Gotta get back to the common room.”

“Yep.”

Except that when they arrived at the Gryffindor tower, Onoda was no longer there. The only people sitting in the common room were the second-years, Kaburagi and his friend Danchiku. They were munching on marmalade and chatting about something.

“Hey kids, have you seen Sakamichi?” Naruko asked, but Kaburagi looked at him with a disgruntled and hurt look.

“We came a while ago, but he wasn't here,” Danchiku replied.

“Weren't you supposed to go to Hogsmeade with the others?” Kaburagi grumbled, folding his arms across his chest and pouting.

“You can go next year too — not much left,” Imaizumi smiled and placed his palm on Kaburagi's redhead for a second as he passed the couch.

Naruko hurried to follow Imaizumi and together they went up to the fourth year's dormitory. It was empty as well. Imaizumi looked around but found no sign of Onoda. Only the open textbook on the bed rustled with pages disturbed by the wind.

“It's freezing!” Naruko exclaimed, wrapping his arms around his elbows. He flashed over to the open window and closed it. “Looks like Sakamichi decided to go without us.”

“I bet three galleons he's with Manami,” Imaizumi said, walking over to his bed.

“Whatever,” Naruko snorted. “I didn't want to go anyway. There's almost the whole school there now, and everyone's on stupid dates.”

“I guess you're right. There's not much to enjoy,” Imaizumi agreed.

Looking at his pile of valentines, he pulled out his wand, raised them into the air, and waved them towards the bin.

“What are you doing?! Stop!” Naruko squealed when he noticed this and rushed to intercept. “If you're not going to read them, I will!”

Imaizumi raised an eyebrow in surprise, then put his wand away. Naruko managed to grab a decent amount of cards, but some fell to the floor and he started picking them all up.

“Do what you want, I don't need them.”

“No respect for your fans,” Naruko grumbled, heading for his bed.

“Didn't you wish I didn't have those fans?” Imaizumi shrugged and laid down on the bed, turning away from his companion. Since they weren't going to Hogsmeade anyway, they could rest and sleep until the holiday dinner.

Naruko didn't say anything, but Imaizumi could hear fiddling in the his bed. It seemed Naruko had really decided to read all the Valentine's cards and quickly became engrossed in the activity. For the next fifteen minutes, all that came from his side was quiet grumbling, sometimes a disgruntled clucking of the tongue, and sometimes laughter. Imaizumi tried to read the textbook while lying on his side and focus on transfiguration.

“Remember Katherine from Slytherin, the one who's always being clever in Potions?” Naruko laughed suddenly even harder. “Well, she writes that your eyes are like the sky. HA! THE SKY! She hasn't even looked into them once.”

Imaizumi sighed heavily.

“She's probably only interested in your wallet. Even at that age, women are devious,” Naruko added, laughing again.

“Shut up,” Imaizumi snorted. “If you're reading, at least read quietly — I want to rest.”

“What? I can't hear a thing you're saying,” Naruko replied.

He was quiet for a while, which soon became suspicious, but then something small and light suddenly hit Imaizumi on the head.

Surprised, he turned around and looked at Naruko's bed. The latter was lying on his side, also turning away from him and pretending he had nothing to do with it. Looking down, Imaizumi realised what had hit him — it was a heart-shaped card.

Taking it and flipping it over with the back side, he read the text written in Naruko's careless handwriting, “You are the most arrogant, the most harmful, the most boring, the most annoying and the most unbearable person in my life.”

The same crooked heart was drawn below it, and Imaizumi was embarrassed, smiled, and then looked at Naruko's back again.

“I'll keep this one,” Imaizumi said, knowing full well that Naruko could hear him, and hid the valentine among the pages of his textbook.

He was sure that Naruko was smiling on his bed right now, too.

Chapter Text

“I want to give you money,” Imaizumi said, feeling very, very awkward.

“What?” Onoda asked in amazement, apparently wondering if he'd misheard him.

They were both sitting on the edge of the Quidditch pitch, relaxing after the practice that had just ended. The weather was warm and sunny — not surprisingly, it was early May — the fresh, bright green grass was soft and the wind was blowing from the south. It was the perfect conditions to relax, and Imaizumi finally decided to voice his request. It wasn't a good start, though, — now Onoda was staring at him with incomprehension and resentment.

“Um, well,” Imaizumi hesitated, fidgeting nervously with the handle of his broom. “I thought... I could ask you a favour. There's one— um— thing that only you can do. More precisely— perhaps one of our elders could too, but I'm too embarrassed to bother them for such a small thing.”

Onoda smiled sceptically, then nodded.

“Whatever it is, you can ask me anything — I'll do my best to help.”

Imaizumi pressed his lips together and reluctantly continued, “During the summer holidays, when you're home— if it's not too much trouble, could you go to the bookshop? A Muggle bookshop, I mean... I'd like you to buy a couple of books for me. Maybe more, but that's up to you — I don't want it to be too hard on you when we go back to school.”

“Books?” Onoda was surprised again. “Why do you— Oh, sorry. You probably can't do it yourself...”

“Yeah,” Imaizumi nodded with a wince. “My parents won't let me go to Diagon Alley or any other place far away from home without an adult accompanying me for the time being. And, even if I could escape, I don't know London at all. Besides, I'm unlikely to be able to exchange money — my parents would probably find out and there'd be questions... Anyway, I thought it best to ask someone else...”

“Oh, I see!” Onoda shuddered, raising his palms sharply. “You don't need to make excuses! I'll buy the books for you — it's no trouble at all. Only— What kind of literature do you want?”

Imaizumi smiled weakly and replied, “I think, psychology. Wizards have books dedicated to psychology too, but they're quite few, all of them weird and magic related. So... I'm very interested in how Muggles see the human soul.”

“Mm...” Onoda nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. I don't really know much about it, of course, but I can just ask the seller to recommend the best one for me, or I'll google it before I go shopping.”

“Do what?” Imaizumi interjected, not understanding.

“I mean, I'll look on the internet,” Onoda laughed embarrassedly. “You can read book summaries and stuff on the internet.”

“Thank you,” Imaizumi smiled, feeling relieved. “I'll definitely try to thank you.”

“Oh, no need, it's really no trouble at all — I'll be only too happy to help you,” Onoda was embarrassed, waving his palms.

But before Imaizumi could add anything else, something hard hit his shoulder, and he grimaced at the slight pain.

“Ouch, what the hell?” he snorted, noticing the Quaffle that had fallen nearby, and turned to look in the direction the ball had come from.

It would be surprising to see anyone other than Naruko there. He came over with his broomstick slung over his shoulder; he had a wide, satisfied grin on his face, and he was definitely full of energy even though the practice had been really hard — even the captain and the others were resting on the bench now, unable to go straight to the changing room. After all, they all had a Cup match tomorrow. A match against Slytherin, which they planned to win, actually. If such a thing was possible, of course.

Not that Imaizumi doubted his team's strength — there was no need to, because they had finished two of their previous official games with excellent results. This year, they had great Chasers, a great Keeper, Beaters, and an amazing Seeker because Onoda was probably the kind of guy you could easily say 'He was born a Seeker' about.

With Onoda, their team had every chance to win the last game as well. There was only one small nuance, and the reason for it was that Slytherin had won the Cup for many previous years. The team of that House was really strong, and it would be foolish to expect Gryffindor to win easily with their super Seeker.

No. They'd obviously have to sweat and maybe even swallow the pain of disappointment when they lost.

“Hey, Hotshot, play with me some more,” Naruko asked mockingly, and Imaizumi picked up the Quaffle from the grass and launched it straight at the red-haired head.

Naruko caught the ball but dropped his broom.

“Back off, I'm tired,” Imaizumi told him.

“Come on, I'll pass you in front of the goal. Let's do it,” Naruko didn't give up.

Imaizumi really wanted to ignore him, but the Quaffle crashed into his shoulder again, and it quickly made his patience wear thin. Imaizumi picked up the ball — which he had held in his hand so many times today that the number must have passed a thousand — rose from the grass along with his broom, and moved threateningly towards Naruko.

“You're a clingy ginger dwarf, I'll throw you in the goal hoop instead of the ball.”

Naruko only chuckled wickedly, already getting on his broom and taking off.

“Hey, you two, save your strength for tomorrow's game!” Tadokoro barked at them, but he was naturally ignored.

* * *

And who was to blame for Imaizumi not feeling so great the next day? After waking up and going to the bathroom, he noticed that the muscles in his right arm were a little sore, which meant that he had overdone it with Naruko yesterday. He shouldn't have given in to his provocation, but when had Imaizumi ever managed not to? In the end, of course, he had to turn to the drawer in his dresser with healing ointments and potions for help again since there was no way he was going to screw up today because of a slight sprain.

Dragon Claw seemed to like the smell of the ointment as she jumped onto Imaizumi's bed and started rubbing her head against his thigh, naturally leaving red hairs on his clean trousers. Looking at her tiredly, Imaizumi suppressed his irritation and thought for a second, it would be nice to be a carefree cat for just a day.

Yes, she didn't have to take the field against the strongest Quidditch team at Hogwarts, she didn't have to worry about what would happen if she didn't play well.

Imaizumi, on the other hand, had to think about such things. He had to prove to his parents and himself first and foremost that he really was the best.

I'll gain the most points among the Chasers in this game — I have to do it, he mentally told himself, clenching his fists. After all, if he's the best, everything will be all right, won't it? There won't be any complaints against him?

“Hello, sleeping smarty-pants!” Naruko appeared suddenly and out of nowhere. Collapsing onto the bed next to him, grabbing his cat with both hands, and lifting her above him.

“Who the hell is 'sleeping smarty-pants'?” Imaizumi inquired irritably.

“Well, you're a long way from 'beauty', so 'smarty-pants' it is,” Naruko chuckled, fearlessly putting his nose under the blow of a fluffy cat's paw.

“Fuck you,” Imaizumi snorted, rising from the bed and tucking the ointment back into the drawer.

“I'm serious. Look in the mirror — your hair is awful, and you look like you got to know Ogden yesterday,” Naruko said, and Imaizumi awkwardly ran his palm through his hair. He was kind of combing his hair, wasn't he?

“I couldn't sleep last night, just so you know,” Imaizumi said sharply, slamming the drawer shut with a clatter and starting to wrap a bandage around his arm. “You were talking crap about a dragon or a Bludger in your sleep again.”

“Hey, I had a fucking great dream where there was a real dragon on the goalposts instead of a Keeper, and I had to go around it!” Naruko was outraged. “I distracted him with a Bludger, and you scored!”

But Imaizumi only rolled his eyes, completely unimpressed, and pulled his shirt sleeve down.

“I can't imagine how Sakamichi sleeps next to you. By the way, where is he? I haven't seen him yet today.”

Naruko let go of the twitching cat, assumed a sitting position and smiled again.

“He already left for breakfast and I stayed behind to wake you up.”

“Is he nervous?” Imaizumi asked involuntarily, remembering that the outcome of the game depended more on Onoda than anything else. Before the past games, he'd been very nervous and distracted, but in the end it didn't stop him from doing his job. But what would happen if he found himself facing the most terrifying team ever?

But Naruko smiled even wider.

“He's doing well. Not afraid in the slightest this time.”

Imaizumi raised an eyebrow in surprise. Onoda wasn't afraid? Why would he be?

The answer to that question soon came itself, however, when Imaizumi, after going to the bathroom once more and putting his hair in final order, walked down to the Great Hall with Naruko.

Onoda... was practically glowing with happiness. He was sitting in his seat, munching on a jam sandwich with gusto, and when he saw them, he smiled so happily that Imaizumi's mind was all mixed up for a second.

“Has he lost his mind?” he asked Naruko quietly before they got close enough for Onoda to hear them.

“I don't know, but if he stays in that mood, we'll definitely win,” Naruko grinned, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets.

Imaizumi still didn't understand, but he soon realised.

And he had completely forgotten about it—

A small candy in a brightly coloured wrapper flew smoothly over the heads of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students, hovered in front of Onoda's face, and he grabbed the treat and turned back excitedly. Standing beside the Slytherin table was Manami. His right hand raised in a welcoming gesture, in his left was the wand with which he had just pointed the candy, a sweet gift for Onoda. Manami was smiling, and Onoda looked like he was going to take off right now without a broomstick and fly across the tables to him. Imaizumi sighed heavily and lowered his shoulders tiredly.

That was the reasoning behind it. It was just that Onoda and Manami would be playing together today.

Is that even normal? Imaizumi thought as he lowered himself onto the bench on the left side of Onoda, who had turned back to the table and was now clutching the candy to his chest like it was the most precious thing in the world.

Seriously, what were these two going to do? Would they be able to fight for the Snitch or would they just fly around the field and flirt with each other?

It was a good question, of course, but Imaizumi hesitated to ask. He glanced over at Naruko, who was looking grimly at his omelette: It seemed that Manami's attention had not escaped him either, and he was jealous again.

Oh hell, if only this wouldn't get in the way of their game today.

Starting to get more nervous, Imaizumi struggled to push his breakfast into himself, and then Kinjou approached them and informed that he was waiting for them in half an hour in the changing room. His gaze was rather hard and stern, his glasses glinting intimidatingly, and Imaizumi's stomach twisted.

He choked as he drank the juice, and Onoda patted him on the back excitedly.

“Are you okay, Shunsuke?”

Imaizumi nodded without saying anything, but to himself he remembered a long ago conversation he had with Kinjou a few days after the tryouts.

“Being a Chaser means playing together with other Chasers,” Kinjou had said then. “You're not very good at it yet, but your skill with the Quaffle is at a great level. That's why I've taken you on in advance. Try to learn the other things you need to learn, or I may have to replace you next year with someone more capable.”

That phrase certainly knocked all the air out of Imaizumi's lungs at that moment. He lowered his head, biting his lip, and promised to try harder, mentally imagining his mother's reaction if she saw the humiliating scene. All it would take was one word, one letter, and a permanent place on the team would be secured for Imaizumi, no matter how well or poorly he played, but he pulled himself back as soon as the horrible thought occurred. No, he wasn't supposed to use his parents' influence to achieve his goals — that was what Slytherins did, and he had promised himself never to do as they did.

And now he had one last chance this year to prove himself. He had to play in such a way that Kinjou wouldn't have a single thought of replacing him next year.

The Slytherin team had already left the Great Hall, seemingly heading to the changing room as well, and Imaizumi could almost physically feel the match approaching. He was shivering and his heart was pounding harder and harder.

Eventually, when he reached the changing room with Onoda and Naruko, the degree of his irritability and nervousness had gone beyond anything he was used to. Almost every little thing pissed him off. The buttons on his shirt wouldn't undo, his fingers wouldn't obey, and a stubborn strand of black hair at the side stood up again at a ninety-degree angle to his head.

He had to keep dodging Naruko's hands and elbows as he stood next to him, pulling on his red sports robe. At the end, Imaizumi accidentally dropped his glove, and it — as if everything today was against him — somehow ended up right under Naruko's foot.

Imaizumi almost boiled with anger, pushing Naruko aside, and bending down to pick up the glove.

“Hey, are you looking for a fight?” Naruko asked with discontent, regaining his balance.

“You stepped on my glove,” Imaizumi snapped, shaking the glove in the air and trying to brush sand off it.

“Don't throw your gloves all over the floor!” Naruko snorted, but Imaizumi wasn't about to relent.

“You saw it fall. You're just doing everything to spite me, like you always do. Purposely trying to piss me off like it's the point of your stupid life. Two years in a row. How much longer?”

“What?” Naruko burst out. “That's a load of bollocks! I didn't see your glove, believe it or not! Get off of me!”

He took offence and left to another part of the changing room, after which he didn't look in Imaizumi's direction or speak to him again. Because of all this, the warm-up didn't go well either, though overall Imaizumi seemed to be in good shape and his Nimbus flew perfectly.

By the time they had to take the field for the second time, but now for the real game, Imaizumi was beginning to think that he'd overreacted and had snapped at Naruko for nothing. He shouldn't have argued with him right before the deciding match, but he didn't have the courage to apologise first. Imaizumi expected to be in a more disposable mood to do so after the game. If they won, of course...

No, no ifs, he shouldn't have thought that way. He should be in the mood to win. But how to do that?

Still unable to find an answer to his question, Imaizumi silently listened to his captain's final instructions before taking the field, but his words were hardly encouraging. Kinjou said they had a duty to play a good, fair game and win, and Imaizumi kept thinking about how he would fail and pull the team down with him because no matter how tough Onoda was, he could only get 150 points.

“Don't be shaky,” Makishima said, putting his elbow on Imaizumi's shoulder. “Just make more passes like we agreed. Fukutomi always gets confused with that, you know.”

Imaizumi nodded tensely, though that was actually where he saw his main problem. Sure, he was great at making passes, but they were still always missing something. Kinjou was also a Chaser and gave plenty of advice, but they all seemed to slip by, and Imaizumi had no way of knowing what he could do to gain that special and much needed connection with his mates. A connection that would allow him to guess thoughts and possible actions.

Fortunately, the weather had not yet turned bad though heavy grey clouds hung over the field. If it rains, it will make the game more difficult, Imaizumi thought as he walked towards the middle of the field, gripping the handle of his broom tightly. The rain was making visibility worse, the robes were getting wet and heavier, slowing down the speed of the broom and stiffening the player's movements. The Quaffle also became slippery, and there was a greater chance of accidentally dropping it or making an inaccurate pass. As it was, Imaizumi felt insecure even in the absence of these things.

The stands were yelling excitedly, shouting something unintelligible, and Mr Kanzaki was already motioning for the captains to come over and shake hands. Imaizumi followed Kinjou's movements as he and Fukutomi approached each other, and then glanced at Naruko, looking to him for a little encouragement, but Naruko was still stubbornly not looking in his direction.

If the Bludger went straight at Imaizumi, would Naruko do anything to stop the ball, or would let the hit happen?

Whatever, I can manage without him, Imaizumi thought stubbornly as he took his stance.

He hesitated and was the last to get out of his spot when Mr Kanzaki tossed the Quaffle, which Kinjou took possession of a second later. The game immediately took on a terrifyingly fast pace, and it took Imaizumi a while to adapt.

He tried to catch the Quaffle at every opportunity, but every time he succeeded, he had to give the ball to someone else. Getting close to the goal posts wasn't easy when Arakita and his speedy kicks were on the defence. All Imaizumi did was try to dodge the Bludgers, but he couldn't try to score once. And where was Naruko at a time like this?

Fortunately, the next two Bludgers that could have knocked Imaizumi off his broomstick were deflected away from Tadokoro, and their team was starting to score some points, considering that the Slytherins had already taken a five-Quaffle lead.

The points brought to Gryffindor were thanks to Makishima and Kinjou, of course, although the former scored more because he was very skinny and dodgy. But none of that mattered, because Imaizumi never managed to get a single ten. He was cut off every time he tried to break towards the goal — he had to pass urgently, but often the ball was intercepted by someone from the other team. Toudou just appeared out of nowhere — Imaizumi really couldn't keep track of him.

And soon Slytherin's points began to increase at an alarming rate. Here they were 80 points ahead of the Gryffindors, and now they were a hundred. It wasn't too far to 150.

It was certainly a bad state of affairs, but Imaizumi, to his surprise, was thinking only of himself again. Only about the fact that he had planned to bring his team the most points, and in the end he couldn't do anything at all.

And the longer the game went on, the more despair took hold of his heart. Several times he made the mistake of trying to break through to the goal on his own when he definitely should have passed.

When he lost the Quaffle, probably for the twentieth time, hopelessness made him give up, put his hands down, stop. He froze in place, ignoring the Chasers that flew past and the drops of fine rain that started all too suddenly. He accepted defeat in advance. Accepted that he probably really didn't belong on the team.

Suddenly, someone's palm slapped the back of his head, bringing him back to reality, and Imaizumi looked up, startled.

“What are you doing?” Naruko yelled almost in his ear. “This is no time to slow down — we haven't lost yet!”

A shiver ran through his entire body. Imaizumi saw the fear in Naruko's eyes and the same desperation that Imaizumi felt himself.

“Help them, please!” Naruko pleaded, pushing Imaizumi forward. “I believe you can do it!”

It worked. Naruko had somehow given Imaizumi some confidence in his own abilities. Of course, if he couldn't score on his own, he could still help his mates.

Plus, Naruko was now constantly within sight, and if Imaizumi still felt no connection to Makishima or Kinjou, the tension between him and Naruko made him fight on.

Unfortunately, the score kept going up and the Snitch hadn't been caught yet. The Slytherin team had already scored 250 points when the Gryffindors only had a hundred. Hearing the commentator announce that the Seekers had begun their relentless pursuit of the Snitch, Imaizumi felt more exhausted than ever. His entire body ached from the constant exertion, and his breathing was laboured. But relaxing now was unacceptable. They had to do anything to snatch at least ten more points before Onoda could possibly catch the Snitch.

Luck soon smiled upon them: The way to the goal post was clear of the Beaters. Imaizumi gave the Quaffle to Makishima to follow through with the attack, but suddenly a random Bludger flew in their direction. Cussing to himself, Imaizumi tried to speed up, realising that they needed those ten points more than ever in their lives. And he suddenly didn't care at all that if he covered Makishima with himself, he'd probably fall off his broomstick, hit by the Bludger. He could get maimed, but even worse was letting a Bludger hit their best Chaser.

Makishima's far more valuable than me, Imaizumi decided immediately and sped up some more but realised he couldn't catch up, couldn't protect his teammate.

Fear swept through him all over. Makishima lost the opportunity to pass because Toudou suddenly shifted Imaizumi out of position and fearfully shouted Makishima's name, but Makishima must have been hoping for luck even though it was so stupid now.

The Bludger was getting closer and closer.

No, it's definitely going to hit Makishima, Imaizumi thought with horror, but the next moment he noticed another figure in red nearby.

“Naruko!” Imaizumi rejoiced, already counting on Naruko being able to kick the Bludger aside, but the next realisation made him wince again.

Both of Naruko's hands were clutching the broom and his bat was tucked away in a leather pouch on his hip, which meant he couldn't hit the ball.

And just as Imaizumi had time to realise the his plan, a collision occurred. The Bludger hit Naruko, striking him somewhere on his temple, and then already changed direction, whereupon the commentator's voice shouted, “Yuusuke Makishima gets ten more points for his team, but wait! Their little Beater went off his broom, greeting the Bludger with his head!”

Imaizumi froze in place again, looking at the motionless figure on the grass. If Naruko's hair hadn't been so red, he — there was no doubt about it — would have seen blood.

Damn it, Imaizumi mentally cursed again and sprinted toward his goal where Toudou was already heading with the intercepted Quaffle. He couldn't be allowed to score now. Naruko had sacrificed his head so that the Gryffindor team could get those last ten points. They should have waited for Onoda to...

“Stop! Stop!” the commentator yelled again. “Did you see that? Sakamichi Onoda caught it! He caught the Snitch! Wow! That was a beautiful catch! He's by far the best Seeker this year!”

Imaizumi didn't even have time to feel happy or relieved. He rushed straight down, directly towards Naruko, where the Healer was already rushing towards him. But Imaizumi was faster. Falling off his broom in an awkward landing, he gasped when he saw Naruko's face, his eyes and his smile. Naruko was laughing, sprawled out on the grass, and there really was blood in his brightly coloured hair.

“Ha, it worked,” he said.

Imaizumi only sighed doomedly, unable to respond with anything but a powerless 'idiot'.

“He'll live, it's not a serious wound,” the Healer said after examining Naruko, and then, as if on cue, all the members of the Gryffindor team who had come down to the injured teammate rushed over to Onoda to hug him to death.

Only Imaizumi didn't move, as his body seemed to refuse to move and his heart was still leaping out of his chest.

But they... seemed to have won, right?

“An amazing victory! Gryffindor won 260-250! The tension was unbelievable! The Cup is theirs now! Can you believe it?” the commentator couldn't stop talking, and Imaizumi finally exhaled.

He didn't stay for the Cup awarding — he decided to go to the changing room with Naruko. The Healer had finished with his head — there was now a white bandage strip in the red hair — but told him to come to her Hospital Wing in a couple of hours, and to rest and be relaxed in the meantime.

Naruko laid down on one of the benches with great reluctance and placed an upturned palm on his forehead.

“Does it hurt?” Imaizumi asked, stopping beside his seat and pulling off his gloves.

“No, it's fine,” Naruko replied. “Why didn't you stay with the others? We won, didn't we? We beat the Slytherins. Nobody could beat them for years! Such an event!”

“Don't yell — you were told to rest,” Imaizumi muttered glumly, dropping his gloves and grabbing the ointment from his locker.

Walking over to Naruko, he knelt down beside him, took his hand and began unbuckling the straps of his guards.

“What are you doing?” Naruko asked in surprise.

“Do you expect me to believe that you just decided to test the strength of your head with a Bludger?” Imaizumi said irritably and gently pulled the guard off Naruko's arm.

As expected.

Biting his lip and wincing, Imaizumi examined the swollen wrist and began to apply the healing ointment.

“It's the left hand,” he commented. “When you couldn't hit Bludgers with your right hand, you took the bat to your left, but your left hand was ruined too, and then—”

Naruko was silent and stared at the ceiling — he had nothing to say. Imaizumi finished with his left arm, freed his right arm from the guard, grimaced even more, and took up the ointment again.

“What an idiot. I told you—” he hissed but stopped himself, biting his lip.

“I know,” Naruko replied grudgingly. “That I'm not good for a Beater.”

“No,” Imaizumi shook his head, smearing the ointment gently over Naruko's hot skin. “You're... you're an amazing Beater.”

“What?”

“You're a great player, I've seen that for myself. I'm the one who makes mistakes. I was terrible at my part.”

“Hey—” Naruko called out quietly, but Imaizumi cut him short.

“Don't. Don't say anything,” Imaizumi replied and began to bandage Naruko's wrists. “When you get to the infirmary, show Madam Bland your hands. Have her do something with them.”

“Shunsuke,” Naruko said, and it was probably the first time he'd ever addressed him by his first name instead of using a stupid nickname.

But whatever it was, he didn't have time to finish. Voices were heard outside the door, and then the rest of the team entered the changing room. They were noisily discussing the game and cheering. Kinjou was carrying the Cup with the most satisfied look, and Imaizumi couldn't even smile as he looked at his happy mates.

Good for them for winning. But he had done nothing for that victory.

Naruko jumped up from his seat, ignoring all of the Healer's advice, and swooped down on Onoda with a hug.

“I still can't believe it — you did it!” Naruko shouted and ruffled Onoda's rain-damp hair. “That's great! That's just great! Man, I love you so much!”

“You were told to rest, not jump around the changing room and yell,” Imaizumi reminded irritably for the second time and then moved towards the exit. “Excuse me, I need to get out.”

By this time, the rain had stopped and the sky was beginning to brighten — the clouds were slowly dissipating. Imaizumi looked up and tiredly walked along the wall. He rounded the changing room, there was an old bench, on which Imaizumi sat down doomedly, put his elbows on his knees and lowered his head.

Well, they had won, but had he failed in his task?

What would Kinjou say? Did he already have another Chaser in mind?

Grinning bitterly, Imaizumi leaned back and pressed his back and the back of his head against the wall. All he wanted was to show that he could do something on his own. But what did he excel at besides studying? His grades had dropped this year because he'd been spending too much time on Quidditch, and now his parents would tell him that he'd been trying for absolutely nothing.

Yeah, Imaizumi wouldn't even have a reason to contradict them.

As he remained sitting there, he could hear the guys leaving. He didn't want to catch up with them even though he needed to change and head to the castle to take a shower. Instead, Imaizumi stayed here, not wanting to believe, not wanting to accept that all his actions made no sense.

“I knew you were here,” Naruko's unexpected voice came, and Imaizumi opened his eyes. “Don't you want to change and go to the castle? We're going to have an awesome party.”

Naruko was already standing in front of him. In black trousers and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The bandages that Imaizumi had tied so ridiculously were still on his wrists. Hell, he couldn't even handle a little thing like that in a proper manner. Just a living disappointment. Disappointment for himself, for the team, for his parents.

“I'll come back later, thanks,” Imaizumi replied quietly, trying not to meet Naruko's gaze.

“Look,” Naruko sighed tiredly. “You played it cool too — I saw everything!”

Seen what? How badly I screwed up? Imaizumi thought and wrinkled his nose.

“Chasers are supposed to score. Bring their team points,” he said reluctantly. “How many points did I bring the team in this game? Zero. Zero, Naruko. Think about it.”

“So what?” Naruko resented, frowning. “It doesn't matter! You were making great passes! And points are nothing at all! I don't get any points — and I have no regrets whatsoever!”

“I just wanted to be the best!” Imaizumi raised his tone, but then realised and lowered his head in shame. “You understand— you know what it's like— to want to be the best player at your position. I wanted so badly— to prove to myself that I could handle something I chose on my own, rather than doing what my parents decided for me... But maybe they are the ones who are right? Maybe they really do know better what I'm capable of and what's right for me.”

But Naruko was silent, and Imaizumi wasn't hoping for an answer. And what was the point of answering when everything was already clear? Naruko probably agreed with him, it was just... he was just too kind to say it to his face and tried to be supportive somehow. But Imaizumi didn't want that.

“Look,” Naruko said quietly. “We won... because we were together. We did it together,” he added and raised his tone. “Don't you understand that! We're a team! We play as a unit, not every man for himself! And we only won because we all tried hard! Otherwise, it wouldn't have worked!”

Raising his head, Imaizumi flinched when he noticed Naruko's eyes glistening with tears.

“You're such an idiot,” Naruko spat out angrily and began wiping his eyes. “I had fun playing with you. Maybe I only did well because you were around. Your presence keeps me going. So don't you dare. Don't you dare say you didn't do anything.”

Imaizumi blinked in surprise, not knowing how to react to such a statement.

“And you know,” Naruko continued, lowering his hands and smiling. “I have something for you. It might not make up for your unearned points at all, but I think that you and I can— be sort of friends. Um— if you want to, of course.”

Blinking again, Imaizumi opened his mouth dumbfoundedly, then answered without even thinking, “Hell, I do. Of course.”

Naruko blushed with embarrassment and laughed.

“So be it! You and I are friends from now on!” he said, then leaned over and slapped Imaizumi sharply on the shoulder. And it hurt so badly.

“Ouch!” Naruko exclaimed, shaking his palm in the air.

Imaizumi jumped to his feet.

“Idiot! Don't hurt your hands any more!”

“Uh-oh,” Naruko moaned, clutching his hand to his chest, his eyes watering again. “Fuck, that fucking hurt.”

“Alright, that's it. I'm going to change, and then we're going to the infirmary,” Imaizumi said irritably and headed nervously back towards the changing room entrance.

“Thank you,” Naruko said quietly. Imaizumi sighed.

“Don't mention it,” he replied, a goofy happy smile spread across his face.

Naturally, after that, all the way to the school and then the Hospital Wing, Imaizumi felt amazing. He hadn't really hoped that Naruko would ever acknowledge him... like this anymore. And now they were really becoming friends? That was crazy. But Imaizumi really liked it for some reason.

Though all his carefree attitude and good mood dissolved as soon as he realised they were on their way to their common room. The Gryffindors were probably already celebrating and partying, and even if Naruko had said everything was great, Imaizumi wasn't at all sure that Kinjou felt the same way. What if he told right today that Imaizumi didn't belong on the team next year?

It was so noisy inside that it made him want to plug his ears. Some of the guys must have robbed the kitchen because there was a lot of food around, and also— oh... So much Butterbeer Imaizumi had never seen in his life. Where did that come from?!

“Oh, here come our heroes!” Tadokoro said loudly, coming up behind them and placing one palm on Naruko's shoulder and the other on Imaizumi's shoulder. “They're only second-years, and they've already won the Cup! Good job!”

The other guys squealed, started applauding, someone blew a firecracker, and Imaizumi thought he wanted to get out of here right now.

“I'm ready to sign autographs for everyone! Get in line!” Naruko laughed, jumping up on the table.

Imaizumi only sighed and walked over to Onoda, who was talking to excited Miki and seemed somewhat eager to get away from all this too.

“You did good,” Imaizumi said, sitting down on the couch next to him and grabbing a candy bar from the table. “You caught the Snitch just in time. Saved the whole team.”

“Oh, thanks,” Onoda laughed awkwardly. “I really tried. It wasn't scary with Manami.”

Imaizumi nodded, involuntarily thinking that it was really weird in a way. Onoda and Manami were kind of dating. Or were playing a couple. Or it was a big stupid joke. But the fact that they were close was obvious. Was it easy for them to fight each other?

Although Onoda seemed to be looking good — so there was no need to worry?

Imaizumi didn't have time to think about it as Kinjou approached him and held out a bottle of Butterbeer. Imaizumi raised an eyebrow.

“Um. I'm twelve.”

But Kinjou only smiled in response to that.

“A couple of sips wouldn't do any harm,” he said, and Imaizumi had to take the bottle after all.

He opened the lid, sipped a drop, and thought he didn't like the taste at all. Just as he probably wouldn't like what he was about to hear.

“Thank you,” Kinjou said suddenly, contrary to his expectations. “Thanks to your passes, we were able to score enough points today. It was a great game. And I'm glad to have you on the team. It's only because of you — you, Naruko and Onoda — that we were able to win the Cup. That's really amazing.”

Imaizumi froze with his mouth open again, as it had been a while ago, and Kinjou's words struck him as much as Naruko's recent words. So no one was going to kick Imaizumi off the team? It wasn't a dream?

“Oh,” Imaizumi exhaled and this time drained almost the entire bottle of beer in a few greedy gulps.

“Shunsuke? What are you doing?” Onoda squeaked.

“Thank you.” Imaizumi handed the bottle back to the captain, hugged dazed Onoda tightly for a few seconds, and rose to his feet.

Everything was perfect now. Perhaps the only thing was missing—

“Hey, Naruko,” Imaizumi called out, approaching the table. Naruko was sitting on it and was actually signing someone's hat. “I want one, too,” Imaizumi said with a smirk, placing his palms on the tabletop and leaning right into Naruko's face.

“Where do I sign?” the latter smiled back.

“Wherever you want,” Imaizumi said, and Naruko laughed and took him by the chin with one hand.

“Come here,” he snorted and brought a bright red crayon to Imaizumi's cheek.

Chapter Text

One beautiful (or not) day, the Daily Prophet had written a huge article that took up the entire front page. Naruko was the first to read it... though how to say it, he never read properly, only skimmed through the text, picking up on what he thought were the most interesting sentences and missing the most important point most of the time. The subscription was Imaizumi's — he paid for it out of his own pocket, and he was supposed to read the paper first, but Naruko apparently thought otherwise. He'd won again — actually, Imaizumi had given up and conceded the issue to him because he'd noticed Professor's stern look and was afraid of having the points taken off the House for a silly scuffle. This, of course, pissed him off, but all anger evaporated, replaced by surprise as soon as Naruko announced the topic of the front page article.

Obscurial?

Imaizumi didn't believe it at first, but then he convinced himself that it was still possible, though highly unlikely. He was curious because he had read about Obscurials before, and they had partially touched on them in class at the beginning of this school year, but so far the phenomenon had been seen as something long gone.

Naruko was surprised, then explained to Onoda (who was apparently somewhere far away from the real world) who Obscurials were, and then finally handed the paper to Imaizumi. Imaizumi barely restrained the urge to sharply grab it and snatch it out of his hands, then looked at the article himself.

Indeed... Obscurial in their time. It was mind-boggling. In the large photo on the left stood a woman holding a boy in her arms, who smiled constrainedly at the photographer. Here he was only four, and at nine he was— God, what could have caused this child to suppress his magic?

Taking advantage of the fact that Naruko had closed his mouth for the time being, Imaizumi carefully read the article from beginning to end, but disappointingly, he still didn't find an answer to his question.

The article only stated that the boy had been suffering from mental disorders in the last six months of his life, but it was obvious that something like that couldn't occur out of nowhere. There had to be a reason. Specifically, some kind of trauma.

Someone had made sure that this information was kept secret, Imaizumi suggested tiredly as his curiosity melted away. Most likely the publisher thought people were frivolous and uneducated enough not to notice that the story was missing data. Yeah, well, who among the adults now cared about stories about Obscurials, who were now such a huge rarity that they didn't even warrant full attention? Naruko made no attempt to make sense of it either, saying only that he felt sorry for the child.

Imaizumi... probably should have felt something like that as well. Pity. He should have sadly turned the page so that he could forget what he had read an hour later, but instead of all that, he was overcome with interest.

I'm amoral, Imaizumi thought to himself tiredly and tossed the paper on the bench. A child had died because he had magic and channelled that magic in the wrong direction, inside himself, causing it to build up and turn into darkness, and he was... sitting here trying to think of a possible reason for it, as if it were a simple Transfiguration essay due by the end of the week.

Bullying by others... Violence... Or maybe... his own worldview. What?

Picking up his fork, Imaizumi tried to push away the thoughts that made him feel like a complete bastard and started on his breakfast. After all, he needed his strength for today. The others did, actually, too, but he noticed that Onoda had no appetite again. He looked like he was in the middle of a funeral procession, not breakfast, and Imaizumi couldn't tell if it was the newspaper article or some other Manami bullshit that had upset his friend. No, really, why couldn't they live at least one year in peace?

Last month after the fourteenth of February, everyone was whispering and giggling behind Onoda's back about him and Manami being a real pair of lovers, and now what? Had the airy pink castle been blown away by the wind? Imaizumi didn't know what was going on, and he also blamed himself for not having the nerve to ask Onoda about... his private life. No, that would be a nightmare — Imaizumi was willing to give all his pocket money (and there was a lot of it) to avoid such a conversation because everyone... really everyone had a right to a private life where even close friends wouldn't interfere, but the further away things got, the more disturbing Onoda's behaviour had become in recent weeks. Imaizumi was already beginning to think that he would still have to do something eventually, even if it might be wrong and inappropriate of him.

In a way, he had a private life too... if it could be called that. It was Naruko, yep, and no — sure, nothing super special had happened between them, but hell, they'd somehow confessed a mutual liking for each other that still seemed like some kind of madness or bad dream. And some part of... a small part of Imaizumi had naively dreamed that something would change after that, though fuck it — nothing. Nothing had changed. Naruko acted the same as usual the next day, and Imaizumi certainly didn't have the guts to ask anything. And what would he have asked?

Hey, Naruko, how would you like to complicate things further?

Hey, Naruko, how about we hold hands again? You know, I liked that.

Naruko, would you like to date me?

That's fucking crazy.

What was the point of even thinking about something like that? Imaizumi seemed to know perfectly well that even if he did venture into such a relationship (if it was possible, of course), he still by all rational reasoning shouldn't do anything like that. But on the other hand, realising all this, he was starting to feel lousier than ever. Because only now... only at a time like this did he finally realise just how unfree he was.

Luckily, he didn't have to think about it for long. Imaizumi was distracted from his depressing thoughts right after breakfast when Teshima came up to them and informed them of the cancellation of the afternoon class — Herbology. Something seemed to have gone wrong in one of the greenhouses, and Imaizumi involuntarily remembered seeing smoke to that side yesterday. Actually, there was a lot of smoke — like a big fire, did it really happen there?

It was a good question, but Teshima didn't know the details, and Naruko ran back to the Gryffindor table to gather gossip about the incident. Imaizumi didn't approve of such methods of gathering information, because people were mostly stupid and liked to embellish what they heard somewhere, but how could Naruko be held back? He had to forget about it and go to the library for now in the company of only Onoda. On the way, a good idea came to mind as to how they could use the time they had freed up after lunch, and Imaizumi voiced his idea to catch Mr Kanzaki later and ask him for an unscheduled practice session.

He thought it might help them all get a little distraction. Onoda seconded the suggestion, and the day sort of rolled on: they went to the library to work on an essay during free time, waited for Naruko, who surprisingly didn't bring any news, and then went to Numerology an hour and a half later.

Imaizumi certainly hadn't expected the tranquility that had ensued to be cut short in such a strange way, but after the lesson and subsequent conversation with Mr Kanzaki, the three of them ran into the object of their peerless Seeker's affections in the corridor — of Onoda's, of course.

Manami appeared too suddenly. He came out from around the corner, rushing like he was running away from his pursuers, and he and Naruko accidentally bumped into each other.

That's it. This is the last thing we need, Imaizumi thought doomfully, not even wanting to imagine what was about to happen, but the situation was beginning to unfold too quickly.

“Oh, come on, are you getting back at me, or what?” Naruko immediately bristled, obviously confirming that the crap in his head that was making him mad was stirring again.

Good thing Manami wasn't in the mood for sarcasm.

“Not. It was an accident,” he replied with a sort of detached look and looked like he was going to run away, but Naruko wouldn't let him.

Damn you — why can't you just be adequate around him?

“Was what happened in the greenhouse is also an accident?” Naruko asked after placing his palm on Manami's chest, not giving him a chance to leave. “For some reason I'm sure it wasn't.”

What? What did he say?

Imaizumi was so taken aback, remembering that Naruko had actually voiced clearly when he came to the library that he hadn't learnt any news about the greenhouse, and now he was what— Blamed Manami, no matter what happened?

Manami jerked back at that last phrase. There was pain and almost despair on his unaccustomedly emotionless face, and Imaizumi could have sworn he'd never seen this carefree guy like this before...

Onoda, too, took off. Putting his back to Manami, looking fearfully straight at Naruko, but Naruko— God, was he ignoring what was happening and was he just intending to keep going?

“Well, why are you silent?” he asked, apparently grinning, and Imaizumi shuddered at the sound of that voice. It was as if it didn't belong to Naruko anymore. “What will you burn next? A class? And then a class with students in it?

Frozen in utter shock and incomprehension, Imaizumi blinked, looking directly at the bright back of Naruko's head, and still couldn't stand it. Grabbing him by the elbow and turning him sharply towards him, Imaizumi looked into Naruko's eyes and didn't recognise them.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

It was like a switch. Naruko, of course, would get particularly angry and furious about anything at times, but right now his gaze was unlike anything else. It was cold and alien.

“Thank you,” came Manami's very quiet voice, and he did leave this time, though Onoda immediately rushed to follow.

“Hey, Naruko, are you even here?” feeling a growing dread, Imaizumi quietly snapped his fingers near Naruko's face, and the latter looked at him like he was an idiot.

Woke up?

“What do you mean?” Naruko said indignantly, frowning, looking straight into Imaizumi's eyes, and Imaizumi was about to exhale, but too soon.

“If you can't keep your friends in check, step aside, Onoda,” said a new voice, a very familiar voice, and Imaizumi turned back sharply.

Damn, where the hell had Kuroda come from?

Naruko got mad again, and it was a good thing Imaizumi was still holding him tightly by the elbow.

“Hey, come here and say that to my face, you hear me?! I'm standing here!” Naruko almost yelled, stepping forward and trying to break free, but Imaizumi wouldn't let go. That little redhead would pounce on Kuroda with his fists — it was too obvious, and Imaizumi couldn't let that happen.

“Shoukichi, stop it,” returning Onoda asked desperately, but Naruko naturally wasn't listening to anyone again.

“Unstable rabble,” Kuroda snorted, then turned proudly and headed after Manami, who had left.

“I'll smash you on the Quidditch pitch!” Naruko shouted after Kuroda, and Imaizumi realised that this was the last straw.

His body seemed to act faster than his mind because he immediately pushed Naruko against the wall, pressing him forcefully into the vertical surface. There was a slight thud as the back of Naruko's head slammed into the wall, and Imaizumi clenched his teeth, realising he had overreached.

“Oh, this is the only tenderness you're capable of, Hotshot?” Naruko asked, again raising the same look that gave Imaizumi goosebumps.

“Did you hear yourself at all?” Onoda asked in horror, walking up to Naruko and peering into his face. “Do you hear what you say?”

Imaizumi let go of Naruko and took a step to the side, suddenly feeling terribly guilty. What was he doing on his own? Why couldn't he find any other way but to use physical force? Was he going crazy too? Naruko needed his help now more than ever, and he—

“I'm sorry,” Imaizumi exhaled silently, looking up to see Naruko rubbing the bruised back of her head with her palms.

He apologised too, but to Onoda, even though it was so crazy. Something had to be done about this. Urgently. But what? How the hell was Imaizumi supposed to come up with a solution when he didn't even know what exactly he was facing? Maybe it was time to ask the adults for help already?

And here it was again. One more time. Naruko started talking about feeling something — like an affect. And it was directly related to Manami.

When Onoda suddenly agreed with Naruko that he felt something too, it came as a surprise. Imaizumi was dizzy from the incomprehension of it all, and what, he was the only one who didn't care about Manami? Both Onoda and Naruko were obsessed with him, and Imaizumi was the only one who could say with certainty that he felt nothing, absolutely nothing, that touched Manami or related to him in any way.

But at the same time, it had to be admitted that there had been some changes with the guy. He didn't look quite healthy and was generally kind of hunted. Onoda, of course, had pointed this out with undisguised concern, and Imaizumi lowered his gaze, trying not to snap, not to raise his voice, not to say, “There's some inexplicable shit going on with your best friend, and all you can think about is that windy Slytherin again?”

No, it would be horrible to say something like that to Onoda. Of course he was worried about Naruko too, it was just that Manami... Manami was always a drop more important, a notch higher. There was nothing that could be done about it, and Imaizumi honestly doubted very much that that would ever change.

They were late for lunch because of this incident, and then, after eating very little, Naruko accidentally knocked over a goblet of juice on the sleeve of his robe and said he needed to go up to the common room.

“Me too.” Imaizumi stood up from his seat as Naruko reached the large doors leading into the lobby. “Listen, Sakamichi, when you're done, go straight to the changing room. We'll catch up with you.”

Onoda nodded tensely, not bothering to argue, and Imaizumi didn't linger another second. He had intended to catch up with Naruko, but the latter was very fast. For a moment, Imaizumi thought that Naruko had lied again and had gone somewhere other than Gryffindor Tower, but that assumption was soon dispelled.

Imaizumi found Naruko in the bathroom as he stood bent over the sink washing his face. He was no longer wearing his robe, just a shirt and a warm knitted waistcoat. Imaizumi sighed quietly, walked over to the empty sink, turned on the water, and picked up the soap.

“Are you okay?” he asked hesitantly.

Naruko straightened up slowly, looking at himself in the mirror, turned off the faucet, and grabbed a towel.

“I'm fine,” he mumbled.

“Fine?” Imaizumi grunted, and the soap slipped out of his hands, falling towards the drain.

“Really. Nothing's wrong with me,” Naruko replied, pulling the towel away from his face. “No need to run after me like a babysitter.”

Rinsing his hands off the soap, Imaizumi irritably turned off the water and Naruko tossed him the towel.

“Tell me you're okay with what's happening to you,” Imaizumi squinted his eyes into his face, to which Naruko snorted loudly. “Let's tell one of the adults, shall we? Let's go to the Head's office. What if she knows something about this?”

“No,” Naruko answered clearly. Imaizumi threw the towel on the sink and stepped closer.

“Don't you get it? Haven't you had enough trouble? You messed with Kuroda — you can't do that.”

“Yeah? And what?” Naruko rolled his eyes.

“His parents are on the Board of Governors,” Imaizumi explained. “And you know what I'll tell you? Kuroda doesn't care if you graduate from this school or not.”

Naruko remained silent, and Imaizumi lowered his shoulders tiredly, adding, “Didn't you want this to end? I want it too... I'm worried about you, and I want to understand...”

“You want to understand?” Naruko asked, then he too took a step towards him and raised his hand to gently touch Imaizumi's chest with his fingers. “When I did that…” Naruko said, looking at his palm, “with him. With Manami. It was like— I felt— it can't be explained... it's a vibration... it's energy. Bad energy. Dangerous. You know what the worst part is?”

“What?” Imaizumi asked helplessly, restraining himself from grabbing Naruko's palm and squeezing it tightly.

“I feel like something inside me is responding every— time... It's all so— stupid.”

Naruko was about to lower his hand, but Imaizumi still took his palm and pressed it harder against his chest, realising too late that Naruko would probably feel his heart beating hard.

“And when you touch me— do you feel anything?” Imaizumi asked, closing his eyes and mentally calling himself a fool. God, now wasn't the time for that. It wasn't the time at all.

“Yeah,” Naruko replied, and when Imaizumi opened his eyes, he saw his smirk and flushed cheeks. “I feel like you're a jerk.”

Imaizumi didn't have time to reply — Naruko was suddenly very close, releasing his palm, but only to give him a hug. Forgetting everything, Imaizumi hugged him back, pressing his cheek against his hair and smelling the scent of styling gel. Wow... perhaps it wouldn't be a regret to die after that.

“Sometimes I get that chance,” Naruko said quietly, continuing to hug him. “But I don't take it at all — I'm happy even just because you're around...”

“Why are you saying that?” Imaizumi asked, not understanding, and Naruko pulled away slowly, not looking up.

“If we tell the adults, it'll only make things worse. My mom will find out and worry, and her worrying is even worse than when she's angry. She'll rush to school and maybe even pick me up! She'll start dragging me to some Healer or quack!”

“Are you serious?” Imaizumi raised an eyebrow.

“Yes!” Naruko raised his head and looked straight into his eyes, almost fearfully. “We need to practice! We still have games to play! We don't want to fuck up again like last year, do we?”

“Is Quidditch the only thing stopping you?” Imaizumi asked, grinning, and Naruko groaned desperately.

“Oh, Merlin, no. You're the smartest bloke in the House, but you're sooo slow when it comes to dealing with people. Do you think I just hugged you here for no reason? Not Quidditch, but you! You're stopping me. When you get on the pitch, I want to be with you. I want to stay by your side for as long as I can. I want to have a bloody chance to hug you, but not take it. Is that clear to you?”

Imaizumi opened his mouth but couldn't answer. What was there to say? What he just heard was even cooler than a declaration of love. It was really... Naruko just said that now?

Turning back to the sink, Imaizumi rested his palms on the edges and hopelessly jabbed his forehead into the cold surface of the mirror. He felt like moaning.

Because, God, why was everything so awesome and so fucked up at the same time?

“What are you?” Naruko asked quietly, but Imaizumi only bit his lip and…

...almost said—

“Hey, Naruko—”

“What?”

Would you want to date me?

Maybe then I wouldn't be so scared? Maybe I could go against the whole world with you?

“Let's win the Cup this year,” Imaizumi said instead of the desired words, pulling away from the mirror and suffering from the urge to laugh at himself. How pathetic he was now. A pathetic, cowardly, good-for-nothing weakling.

“What are you talking about?” Naruko snorted again and laughed. “Of course we're going to win it! There's no other way! And if we really want to do that, we'd better get to practice now, remember?”

* * *

A couple of days later, on Sunday, Naruko said something crazy. Or rather... Imaizumi thought it was a crazy thing because it would be kind of wild for him, at fourteen, to suddenly find out that there was a relative of yours around all the time. Purebloods were usually always well aware of their own family tree — Imaizumi was no exception, he remembered many surnames and first names; entering Hogwarts he knew that a boy with the surname Kuroda studied here and that a very long time ago their ancestors had been the same family. Of course, Imaizumi didn't immediately run to make connections, especially since he had sorted into other House, but still, knowing that you were studying with someone with whom you had a blood relationship was better than not knowing it at all. And on Sunday, Imaizumi was convinced of that once again.

Naruko seemed distracted this morning. Onoda generally looked like he hadn't slept in a week, and right after breakfast, he'd gone off to the library again, asking Imaizumi and Naruko to rest and not worry about him.

Imaizumi didn't like it. He didn't like it very much, actually, because Onoda was getting weird, and the recent incident with Manami in the Great Hall was on his mind. No one really knew what had happened, but Onoda and Manami had had a brief conversation, after which Manami had suddenly panicked, and there was no telling how it would have ended if Kuroda hadn't led his Seeker away.

Things were getting more confusing, more complicated, and Imaizumi still didn't know what to do with it all.

“Do you want to do something? We could walk to Hogsmeade,” Imaizumi suggested quietly as he and Naruko returned to the empty dormitory.

Sugimoto and his friend had gone into the village as well. They could have found them there and kept them company, but Naruko only shook his head in the negative and knelt down in front of his bed, stroking the licking herself cat.

“What's wrong with you today? Are you feeling something again?” Imaizumi asked, sitting down on Onoda's carelessly made bed.

“Nah. I had a bad dream,” Naruko replied and then gave a muffled yelp as the cat grabbed his hand with her front paws and gingerly bit the edge of his palm.

“Manami and I are relatives,” Naruko said suddenly very quietly, removing his hand and allowing his pet to continue washing herself.

“I've never seen you worry about a dreams before,” Imaizumi said, slowing down a little and almost jumping up when it came to him. “What did you say?”

“Relatives,” Naruko repeated without turning round. “Same blood. Brothers. Whatever.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Imaizumi was stunned, uncomprehending.

Naruko shook his head again, rose to his feet, turned, and sat down so that they were now facing each other.

“Not close,” Naruko said, looking down at the floor, and from the look of him, he definitely wasn't joking right now. “But Manami's dad and my mom are third cousins. You know? Then we're also relatives, too.”

Imaizumi's mind went into overdrive. No, of course, what Naruko said could be possible — his mom was pureblood, Manami's father was a pureblood wizard too, but— WHY was Naruko only talking about this now? Only after almost four years.

“Have you been hiding it all this time?” Imaizumi asked quietly, still in shock.

“I know!” Naruko snorted irritably. “I should have told you right after the holidays, but I didn't want anyone else to find out — it's a nightmare! Just think about it — relatives! Why me?”

“Wait... wait,” Imaizumi interrupted him, raising his palm and wrinkling his nose at the rapid flow of words. “What? After the holidays? After the winter holidays that were recently?”

“Yes! I found out about it on holidays!” Naruko said, raising his head, and Imaizumi grimaced again.

“So— you mean you didn't know about it from the beginning?”

“Naturally! Mom doesn't give a shit about some relatives we cut off contact with a long fucking time ago. Naturally, she didn't say anything — she didn't even bring it up!”

“What's... natural about that? You're a pureblood — you should know your bloodline,” Imaizumi said without understanding.

“You're the one who should know your bloodline,” Naruko said angrily, jabbing at Imaizumi with his index finger. “My parents don't think it's necessary, because blood purity is only measured by narcissistic assholes, and I agree with them!”

“But it's not about blood purity!” Imaizumi objected resentfully, slapping Naruko's arm. “It's that you two are related!”

“And try to imagine HOW embarrassed I am about that!”

“Idiot,” Imaizumi exhaled doomily and leaned back a little, placing his palms on the blanket. He hadn't fully considered the thought yet, but gradually a crazy explanation was forming in his mind... “So if your mother didn't care, why did she suddenly deign to tell you that she was Manami's relative?”

“Because I asked her about Manami's father, of course!” Naruko replied furiously as if it was something obvious. Imaizumi groaned.

Leaning back, he put his elbows on his knees and pressed his fingers to his temples, trying to understand...

“Jesus... are you serious? You asked your mom about Manami's father? What— Are you obsessed with him or something? Why are you so fixated on him? You're like an addicted psycho.”

“Thank you!” Naruko took offence. “I couldn't have wished for a better description of myself.”

“I'm sorry,” Imaizumi apologised, dropping his hands and raising his head. “I didn't mean to, it's just—” He stopped talking abruptly as the gears in his head finally clicked into place. Suddenly everything was clear. “Oh...” Imaizumi exhaled, blinking in surprise. “So that was it. That's why you've been pissed off about him from the beginning— Maybe it was weaker before. But now the impact— You can somehow sense his magic, right?”

“Magic?” Naruko asked in surprise. “What do you mean? How can I feel someone else's magic? It's not like he's applying it to me.”

“Not like this. His inner magic,” Imaizumi explained, frowning involuntarily and putting his fingers to his chin. “Every wizard has a different magical potential — some more, some less. I think everyone's magic is unique. It might even have— I don't know, its own character?”

“I don't fucking get it,” Naruko said boredly, putting his hands at his sides and leaning over to Imaizumi. “Magic is like a living thing that sits in a cage — inside the wizard, to be exact — and when I touch them, it touches the other side? Aah, you feel how creepy that sounds, Hotshot?”

“You're taking it too literally,” Imaizumi objected. “But figuratively speaking, it does sound like what you're describing. Wizards don't usually feel each other's powers the way you do, but since you're related to each other—”

“It doesn't happen when I touch my mother, or my younger brothers, for example, even though they're much closer to me,” Naruko responded.

“There's nothing wrong with their magic,” Imaizumi snapped back. “And their magic is hardly that strong. Manami has enough magic for twenty wizards and still have enough left.”

And it was true. Imaizumi didn't often get to see Manami cast spells, but they did have a class together on Defence Against the Dark Arts, and sometimes the students had to wield their wands. Manami's spells weren't particularly skillful, but they had plenty of power — it was enough to remember the shock of the Professor and the others when the first practice of Manami's Expelliarmus had caused a poor model of a man to shatter when it had collided with a wall, even though it had only needed to be disarmed, not destroyed. Moreover, Imaizumi also remembered perfectly well how far that mysterious beast in their second year had flown when Manami had knocked him down in the corridor with his spell...

“Are you saying that Manami's magic is dangerous?” Naruko said quietly.

“No, he just started off on the wrong foot and decided to go fry the greenhouse on purpose — no big deal, everyone does that when they're in a bad mood,” Imaizumi said sarcastically, folding his arms irritably across his chest. “According to some, he might be capable of something sinister, but I don't think so. Or rather, I don't think he can do something like that intentionally. He's weird and out of this world, but he's not bad or evil.”

“You think it's him, too,” Naruko said even more quietly and tensely.

“I could tell by the look on his face when you brought it up that time in the corridor,” Imaizumi nodded. “And imagine how powerful a spell would have to be to burn down an entire room? How many students do you know at our school with such powerful magic?”

Naruko only shrugged and lowered his head. He finally seemed to acknowledge that Imaizumi was right.

“There's your answer,” Imaizumi added. “We should tell Sakamichi about it.”

“You think so?” Naruko asked unhappily.

“I do,” Imaizumi replied sharply, without thinking for a second. “He's worried about you too.”

“But I don't want anyone else to find out!” Naruko said in desperation, and Imaizumi sighed heavily.

“Because of what? Because Manami is a Slytherin or because he has a bad reputation? It doesn't matter — you can't choose your relatives. Besides, neither I nor Sakamichi will be blabbing about it. No one else will know.”

“It's easy for you to say, you don't have any weird relatives,” Naruko said, pouting and stroking the cat, who was now lying down funny, her front legs tucked under her, resembling a red, fluffy brick with a head and ears.

“Kuroda,” Imaizumi said tiredly, hoping that it would calm Naruko down.

“Kuroda what?”

“Kuroda is a relative of mine. Our ancestors belonged to the same family for a generation, okay?”

“Oh,” Naruko said in surprise and even froze. “And he's a Slytherin, yuck.”

“Yeah. But neither I nor he are suffering because of it. You don't have to worry about that either. Your blood relation doesn't put any responsibility on you at all or anything like that. You don't have to socialise with all your relatives or worry about them,” Imaizumi said, but Naruko strongly objected.

“But we're relatives! He's my brother in a way even if he's not like my younger brothers. Something happened to him, and I made it worse because I got my head blown off... Shit... I might want to just stay out of his life too, but how, with him being around all the time?”

Imaizumi blinked in surprise, not knowing what to answer. This news was unexpected as well. Was Naruko worried now? Worried about Manami? And that was only because he had found out that they were just distant relatives to each other? It was a nightmare.

“It'll get better,” Imaizumi sighed again. “Don't get so worked up about it. And when Sakamichi comes, we'll tell him everything, okay?”

“Okay,” Naruko said quietly, and that was the end of the conversation.

A little later, Imaizumi suggested a game of chess, but Naruko was apparently still in no mood for it, so he declined and climbed under the covers with his textbook, which caused Imaizumi to open his mouth in amazement, but he refrained from commenting and went back to reading on his bed. It was no surprise that half an hour later he fell asleep: Two nights had passed with almost no sleep, and now that the situation was clearer and he was a little more relaxed, his body seemed determined to make up for lost.

Imaizumi woke up abruptly. Almost as if from a nightmare, or as if his brain suddenly thought he was late for somewhere. It was already starting to get dark outside the window, and he rubbed his sleepy eyes with irritation. Checking the time, Imaizumi realised that it was only an hour until dinner. How had he managed to sleep so much?

Raised, he looked around and quickly found the answer to his question.

It was simple. Naruko had just passed out too.

“Get up,” Imaizumi mumbled, took a dragon figurine from the dresser, and launched it at Naruko, hitting him squarely on the arse.

He stirred, mumbled something unintelligible, and pulled himself off the pillow.

“Huh? What time is it?”

“Dinner's coming up,” Imaizumi replied, taking the textbook off the pillow and onto the dresser. “Do you think Sakamichi came by or is he still in the library?”

“I don't know. I don't think so,” Naruko answered, climbing out from under the blanket. His whole style had turned into a mess. He looked like a huge wrinkled red hedgehog. Imaizumi couldn't even keep from laughing.

“What?” Naruko barked, noticing his reaction.

“You shouldn't sleep with gel in your hair.”

“Oh, look at you, pretty girl.” Naruko, of course, was not in debt and then quickly dashed off to the bathroom.

Imaizumi smoothed his hair with his hand, glancing indignantly at the door, and decided to go at least wash up as well.

By the time he got into the bathroom, Naruko had already somehow managed to clean himself up (how the hell did he do that?). Imaizumi had to wet a couple of strands that were sticking out to the side, and overall he seemed somehow broken to himself.

Naruko took one look at him, smiled evilly for some reason, and raised his hands, trying to mess up Imaizumi's hair even more.

“Are you kidding me?” Imaizumi said indignantly, struggling to intercept Naruko's wrists.

“It can't get any worse,” Naruko laughed and somehow managed to quickly get behind him and hug him from his back.

Imaizumi gasped at this sudden closeness, and then, glancing in the mirror again, took up his hairbrush.

“Let's go find Sakamichi. We need to talk to him,” he said, combing his hair while Naruko still continued to hold him with his arms wrapped around him. Something like agreement was heard in response.

Ohhh, Imaizumi thought to himself tiredly. It seemed he would always associate this bathroom with hugs.

He didn't know if it was a good thing or not yet, but some unpleasant feeling stirred inside, and Imaizumi remembered that he couldn't get used to it. Naruko wouldn't cuddle with him forever. School would end someday, life would scatter them in different directions, and there was no telling if they would see each other afterwards.

Whether it was those thoughts or hunger that made Imaizumi's stomach twist. A little later, they ran into Onoda in the common room, which was a good thing, and took him into the dormitory for a conversation. Which, it had to be said, came out rather tense. Onoda also immediately thought about Naruko probably sensing Manami's magic, and then suddenly started talking about Quidditch afterwards. More specifically, about why Naruko had chosen the Beater position and whether he really liked aiming dangerous Bludgers at players, knowing that he could hurt them that way. Naruko, of course, didn't understand what his friend was getting at, and Onoda hesitantly unwound the bandage he wore on his right palm due to in his words a sprain from practice. In his words, which turned out to be a lie in the end.

A chill ran down Imaizumi's spine when he saw that creepy black spot a little below his fingers — one didn't even have to wonder if Manami had done it. And Imaizumi had thought the worst was over, hadn't he? Apparently, it was just beginning.

The shittiest part was probably that Onoda flatly refused to go to the Healer, even if that inexplicable mark on his arm was causing him pain. And all because of Manami, of course. Anything to keep Manami out of trouble. God, what was the point of that when Manami was a problem in his own right?

Imaizumi was naturally silent because his friendship with Onoda was more important to him, but he also mentally called himself selfish because what was worse: losing a friendship with a person or losing the person? Onoda now looked like he was willing to give up his life for Manami. But was Manami really worth it, or... was it really possible to love him so much?

Apparently the answer was yes, but Imaizumi decided not to think about that question anymore. Honestly, he just wanted things to finally go back to normal. Wanted Naruko to stop freaking out under the fucking influence of Manami's magic when they met. Wanted Onoda to come to his senses and go to Hospital Wing. Wanted Manami to be alright, for God's sake, or none of the three of them would ever have a peaceful life.

It was annoying.

At the end of the day, Imaizumi had a headache. He untied all the ties that held the canopy around his bed and, hoping that no one would disturb him, tried to sleep. He did not hear when Onoda, who had remained in the Great Hall after dinner, returned, and he did not wake until, it seemed, deep in the night, for it was very quiet and pitch dark. There was someone crawling at his feet, the cause of his awakening. And no, it wasn't Naruko's cat — it was something much heavier, and it also knew how to swear.

Mentally cursing everything in the world, Imaizumi fumbled for his wand under his pillow and spoke, “Lumos.”

A soft light illuminated the small space formed by the curtains, and Imaizumi wasn't even surprised by what he saw.

“I thought you were asleep,” Naruko said confusedly, getting close to Imaizumi's upper body.

Imaizumi rolled his eyes irritably and replied, “Can you tell me how I'm supposed to do that when you're crawling all over me and mumbling something to yourself? Move the fuck back, you're crushing my balls with your knee.”

Naruko removed his foot, shifting to the side, and Imaizumi moved to the opposite side to make some room.

“Put the Muffliato on, I need to talk,” Naruko asked quietly, but Imaizumi only snorted.

“Put it on yourself. You choose a bad time to talk.”

“I can't — you know that!” Naruko whispered indignantly.

Imaizumi sighed tiredly, realising that there was probably no choice. Though... one could certainly push Naruko off the bed with a kick, but he seemed to have something serious on his mind.

So after extinguishing the Lumos, Imaizumi lazily cast Muffliato on the canopy, then lit the small light again. Reluctantly assuming a sitting position, he crossed his legs and waited until Naruko sat down across from him, mirroring the same pose.

“So what's up with you?” Imaizumi asked, bringing the tip of his wand closer to Naruko's face.

The latter pushed his hand away with displeasure and spoke excitedly, “You didn't see Sakamichi when he came back. His eyes were all red again.”

“Let me guess who it's because of—”

“He wouldn't explain anything,” Naruko lowered his head. “I think he's stopped trusting us.”

“When it comes to Manami, he's always hiding something, it's the norm for him,” Imaizumi sighed. “I don't really like it because it causes trouble sometimes, but everyone is entitled to a private life. If he thinks he can handle it on his own, so be it. You're not going to change anything by imposing your help.”

“Yes, but it's so awful!” Naruko groaned. “I can't just sit back. My best friend is suffering. Why doesn't he think about I might be suffering because of it too?”

“Because he's thinking about Manami — clearly,” Imaizumi replied. “He's our best mate, so far so good. He can win the Cup for you — whatever you want. As long as Manami doesn't show up.”

“Yes,” Naruko agreed reluctantly. “It seems that way. It's like he's forgetting about us.”

“We can't help it,” Imaizumi shrugged. “Friends are friends, but there's always someone more important. Even for you, that's probably true. You'd hardly think of us if one of your younger brothers got into trouble.”

“But they're my family! That's different!”

“Manami's like family to Sakamichi. That's the way it's always been.”

Naruko was suppressedly silent, and looking at him, Imaizumi only now noticed that his red hair wasn't styled. Of course, Naruko had showered before going to bed, and now his hair was free of all those stupid gels until morning. It was clean... And realising that, Imaizumi felt that stupid urge to touch it again, to feel it under his fingers... What was it like?

“And that black mark on his arm,” Naruko spoke again, snapping Imaizumi out of his second trance. “What do you think it is?”

“I have no idea,” Imaizumi replied. “And it would be nice if Sakamichi realised that it would be better to go to one of the adults with this.”

“He was talking about Obscurus,” Naruko said excitedly.

“Well...” Imaizumi bit his lip in puzzlement, gripping his wand tighter. “When Obscurus kill its victims, it leaves marks on their bodies. Black marks. Maybe similar to the one on Sakamichi's hand, but that's impossible. This is a wizarding school, and Manami is free to use a wand, and he's not five years old to suddenly become an Obscurial. Obscurials are very rare these days. Too rare. It may happen once in a century.”

“He's fourteen,” Naruko said and looked up. “Do you think that's enough?”

“Look,” Imaizumi sighed. “I can only speak on the basis of facts. There's never been a case in history where a child over the age of ten has become an Obscurial.”

“But it's about controlling magic,” Naruko said a little more animatedly and anxiously. “Children who became Obscurials could consciously suppress their magic. So what the fuck does it matter how old the child is?”

“Logically, maybe it doesn't,” Imaizumi replied. “Look, what are you trying to accomplish? You want Manami to be an Obscurial?”

“No!” Naruko objected sharply. “Of course not! That's terrible!”

“Then calm down. It's definitely something else. Maybe it'll clear up soon — just wait a little longer,” Imaizumi tried to reassure him, but Naruko became moody again.

“And what about me?” he asked sadly.

“What about you?”

“Remember what Sakamichi said? He's afraid I might hurt someone too. What if— I really am—”

“It's nonsense,” Imaizumi said.

“What if it was you?” Naruko asked again in desperation. “Would you also say it was nonsense? Maybe... maybe I'd better not touch either of you?”

“Are you fool?” Imaizumi grimaced. “I don't give a damn. Even if your touch killed me, I'd still choose to touch you.”

“What?” Naruko marvelled, and Imaizumi mentally cursed, smacking himself on the forehead with the palm.

“It's your hair, you moron,” he hissed, but Naruko didn't understand. “Just let—” Imaizumi said, reaching up to Naruko's head with his free hand. “Let me touch it. Your damn hair when it doesn't have stupid gel on it.”

Naruko blinked in surprise but didn't move, and Imaizumi finally touched one red strand behind his ear. Soft... oh yes, it was soft...

Noisily sucking in air with his nose, which suddenly wasn't enough, Imaizumi moved his hand further, ran his hair through his fingers, and almost moaned. God, that was so fucking good.

“Just don't cum, you pervert,” Naruko smirked widely.

“Shut up,” Imaizumi grinned, about to remove his hand, but Naruko reached out to follow, making it clear he didn't want that.

And Imaizumi forgot about everything again. Stretched out his legs, slowly laying on his back, and Naruko followed. Ended up just laying right on top of him and pushed his arms under Imaizumi's back, hugging him.

Imaizumi hugged back, still clutching the wand with the ball of light at the tip, and left his other hand in Naruko's hair like that, gently running through it and not knowing how to get enough.

“Thank you,” Naruko said quietly, resting his face somewhere on Imaizumi's shoulder. “It made me feel better.”

“I'm glad,” Imaizumi replied just as quietly, and then turned his head and pressed his lips to the red hair and kissed it.

Naruko, sensing this, flinched, shrank, but didn't rush away. Imaizumi was afraid of his own action because it was the first time. He had never even kissed his mom and dad on his own, but now— This was his first kiss given to someone. Even if only on the head, but a kiss...

God, what was Naruko doing to him?

Naruko was driving him crazy.

With his hair. With his sudden hugs, which had become too much the last few days. His words, his actions... It was enough to make Imaizumi forget everything, fall and drown...

Yes, there was no better word for it. It was a straight path to the bottom of the vast sea that Imaizumi guessed was called falling in love.

Chapter Text

Imaizumi could certainly recognise Defence Against the Dark Arts as one of the most interesting subjects in the school, but there was something that always overshadowed that fact. Since the very first year, these classes had been co-taught with Slytherins, which hardly seemed like a pleasant addition either. But that wasn't even the point. The point was simpler — Imaizumi didn't like the professor.

Professor wasn't the nicest person and wasn't shy about playing on students' nerves. As a retired Auror, he resembled a wizard who had survived a brutal war. During the introductions, he rolled the sleeves of his robe up to his elbows and displayed horrifying and gruesome burns on his skin, the sight of which made Imaizumi feel a lump in his throat, Naruko cringe, and Onoda bend low, pressing his palm to his mouth.

“Fiendfyre burns never go away. And they never stop hurting,” Professor said, casting his audience a haughty look. “So get it through your head: Dark magic is not a toy. You must be serious because your life may depend on it.”

Such attempts to pressure and intimidate students were apparently a kind of special teaching style, but of course no one could like it. Imaizumi resolutely tried to ignore and remain calm, but after the bell rang, he was always among the first to leave the room.

As the third year began, the curriculum became more difficult again, they began to study different dangerous creatures in more detail, and some they even had to fight.

A boggart, for example.

Even though Professor had warned about this practice in advance, Imaizumi still couldn't mentally adjust. He really didn't like the idea of having to face his fear (perhaps even literally) and having his fear seen by his classmates. It's incredibly humiliating, for fuck's sake, no, really! Why couldn't they come up with some more... private option? For a while, Imaizumi even seriously considered skipping out, even if he would be punished afterwards. Exposing his fear was the real punishment. And not that Imaizumi was sure what he would see — it would be one of the most discomforting moments of his entire schooling anyway.

The fear would be about Quidditch. Or about his parents. Or the fear would turn into his future wife! Any of these things — Imaizumi couldn't say for sure, but he was in for a meeting with a boggart who certainly wouldn't be wrong in his assumption. Damn, and why did such despicable creatures even exist in the world?

“What do you think your boggart will transform into?” Naruko asked provocatively as the three of them, along with Onoda, headed for the hated first practice against a boggart.

“Have no idea, I don't care,” Imaizumi replied, not understanding why there was such enthusiasm. Even the girls of their class had been discussing their own versions of boggarts all through breakfast.

“I don't want to see my boggart,” Onoda said quietly, looking down at his feet and clutching the strap of his bag nervously. Naruko groaned disappointedly.

“Thank God there's at least one normal person in this place,” Imaizumi nodded, looking at Onoda's slumped form.

Naruko got angry and pushed Imaizumi in the side.

“Hey, are you chicken or something?”

“Not at all,” Imaizumi replied nonchalantly, regaining his balance and noticing a new smile. The one that only appeared on Naruko's face when he challenged someone.

“Aren't you afraid I'll be able to handle a boggart faster than you?”

Imaizumi nearly choked on air.

“Don't be ridiculous. Moreover, I'm not going to compete in something like defeating a boggart — that's dumb.”

“Even if we have a bet?” Naruko smiled, folding his arms across his chest.

“I'll agree if, upon my victory, you shut your mouth for the rest of the day,” Imaizumi snorted, turning away.

“If I win, you shut up,” Naruko shouted, followed by Onoda's doomed voice.

“Guys, can we please not do this? Or think of something easier — I'm really not sure any of you will be able to stay quiet for the rest of the day, especially since we'll still have practice.”

“I know a good jinx for that,” Imaizumi smiled, looking at his friends again, and Naruko gave him a fierce look.

“Great — you can use it on yourself.”

Imaizumi scowled and quickened his step. He wouldn't give in to that redheaded upstart. Naruko quickened his step, too, and they nearly fell over as they tried to stop each other from entering the classroom. Naruko somehow managed to get in first, but he immediately froze abruptly, and Imaizumi crashed into him not on purpose.

The usual rows of desks were pushed against the walls, and a massive wardrobe with mirrored doors stood at the end of the classroom. Some of the Slytherins who had arrived a little early were huddled around the tall window, talking excitedly amongst themselves.

“Waaaah, is it really there?” Naruko drawled mesmerised and then walked straight towards the wardrobe.

“Hey,” Imaizumi called out querulously, but Naruko didn't think to stop. Imaizumi had to catch up to him and grab him by the elbow, preventing him from getting close enough to the wardrobe to try and open it. “Don't even think about it — if you—”

“That's right. Everyone will have their chance.” Professor appeared as if out of nowhere, and Imaizumi flinched.

“G-good afternoon,” he said, feeling awkward, and Naruko followed suit.

Together they hurriedly stepped aside because Naruko didn't seem to like interacting with this Professor very much either, and then their other mates began to enter the room, and soon the class began.

Professor ran briefly through the theory once more before he started the practice, and when he said that now everyone could try it, the Gryffindors, almost as if on cue, burst forward because everyone wanted to be first. Imaizumi realised that he had thoughtlessly supported this silly herd mentality because of Naruko, and then forced himself to turn back to frozen Onoda.

“Are you okay?” Imaizumi asked, glancing worriedly at his friend.

Onoda seemed to snap out of his trance, then nodded weakly.

“Maybe I can avoid it?” he said hopefully, but Professor quickly shattered his dreams of that when he pulled out a parchment with a list of students.

“Since you're so enthusiastic, I'll start with you,” he said, glancing around at the excited Gryffindors, and Imaizumi heard a quiet groan from Onoda, though it wasn't his turn to groan.

“Shit,” Imaizumi cursed, remembering that he was actually second in his class among the Gryffindors. And that was really sucking at the moment.

Naruko came back a little disappointed, but a smile reappeared on his face when he realised what Imaizumi was thinking.

“Shut up,” Imaizumi hissed through gritted teeth. “If you say one word, I won't be responsible for what happens.”

Nevertheless, the first student approached the wardrobe. A female student to be exact, and her fear was not one capable of surprising anyone. Insects. Large, nasty ones, with wings, with antennae. They quickly headed towards her, but she immediately used the spell, and all of them, without exception, were glued to the floor with their paws, twitching ineffectually and trying to take off.

“Not bad. Five points to Gryffindor,” Professor smiled indulgently and looked at the list again.

Imaizumi sighed doomfully and stepped forward even before he heard his own name.

Okay, that's quick. Just a minute of shame, and I'm free, he mentally encouraged himself though it didn't help a damn bit. He walked over to the wardrobe and pointed his wand at it, not waiting for Professor to force the doors open again.

Boggart jumped out somehow too suddenly though Imaizumi was sure he was definitely ready for it.

But he was definitely and certainly not prepared for seeing his captain in front of him. Kinjou.

“What?” was all Imaizumi could breathe out, blinking stupidly and trying to figure out what the fuck was going on.

Kinjou was standing in front of him in his customary sports robes and guards. He adjusted his glasses, gave Imaizumi a hard look, and suddenly spoke...

“I'm sorry to tell you this, but your play in the last match was terribly disappointing to me. I'm forced to make the hard decision to sus—”

“Riddikulus!” Imaizumi ordered too loudly, nervously, and with his whole body trembling.

That was the most... most stupid thing he could think of quickly.

There was a thick moustache starting to grow on Kinjou's face. Very quickly and non-stop. After a few seconds, it reached the floor and beyond, becoming so heavy that his mouth just wouldn't open normally anymore.

Imaizumi noticed how badly his own hand was shaking and lowered it abruptly, hearing several of the guys behind him explode with laughter. Boggart, who had taken on the guise of Kinjou, looked embarrassed and covered the lower part of his face with the palm of his hand.

“Let's say,” Professor nodded and chased the boggart back into the wardrobe with a slight flick of his wand.

Also receiving five points, Imaizumi turned around on numb legs, with a flaming face of shame and walked towards the place where he stood earlier. Naruko was holding his stomach and seemed to be trying very hard not to laugh though tears appeared in the corners of his eyes.

“If you tell the captain about this, I swear I'll kill you,” Imaizumi said very quietly, feeling himself boiling with anger now instead of shame.

Naruko waved his palm and pressed it to his mouth, then turned away and laughed nonetheless. Imaizumi barely resisted the urge to kick him and folded his arms across his chest resentfully.

Naruko's fun didn't last too long, however. Soon it was his turn, and he stood resolutely, looking like a hero, in front of the wardrobe and said to Professor, “Open up.”

Professor waved his wand, the boggart burst out of the wardrobe and became... well, apparently definitely not what Naruko expected.

The boggart turned into a woman. Tall, with long red hair and a stern... very stern look. No, she was furious. And was also Naruko's mom, of course.

Imaizumi thought the whole class was about to shake when she started talking, or rather screaming.

“HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN THIS? WHY WAS I RECEIVED A CENSURE FROM THE SCHOOL AGAIN BECAUSE OF YOU? DO YOU THINK I ENJOY BLUSHING LIKE THIS EVERY TIME? YOU'LL BE HELPING ME WITH THE CAFE ALL SUMMER—”

Naruko pointed his wand at her, finally coming to his senses, and the sound of his spell was drowned out by the swearing.

His mom's clothes changed quickly, transforming into something... bright and rather strange, it seemed to Imaizumi. Her hair suddenly became very curly, and her face was coloured with paint. She pulled out some small balls from behind her back and started... tossing them in the air and catching them?

Professor chuckled quietly and said, “Ten points, Naruko.”

Naruko came back with a look of boundless horror on his face, pulled his head down low and muttered quietly, “How so? What a disgrace. I'm going to die of shame now. Somebody kill me, please.”

“Come on, Shoukichi — that was really good,” Onoda encouraged him, seemingly trying to contain his laughter. The Slytherins somewhere behind them were giggling shamelessly, but Naruko thankfully didn't notice it, being too frustrated by his fear.

“You don't understand, Sakamichi!” he wailed doomfully. “Boggart was supposed to turn into something cool! Some kind of creepy monster! I was hoping he'd scare everyone, and I'd be the one to take him down!”

“Well, to be honest, I did get goosebumps when your mom started yelling at you,” Imaizumi smiled, and Naruko blushed even more.

But either way, he had successfully completed the assignment and got more points than the others, which was... well, quite commendable. Professor had called another student in the meantime, and taking advantage of the moment, Imaizumi leaned over to Naruko and asked quietly, “That— what you turned her into — was that—”

“Just a clown,” Naruko replied in an annoyed whisper.

“Like... in Muggle circuses?” Imaizumi asked uncertainly, to which Naruko only nodded. “Oh. Have you been there?”

“No, of course not," Naruko said in an even more annoyed tone and looked at Imaizumi's face in displeasure. “I just saw a picture of it once: My sister brought a Muggle magazine to look at once — she'd snatched it from her boyfriend, I think. I thought the masquerade was funny.”

Imaizumi was thoughtful for a moment, then leaned closer again, “Shall we go there sometime?”

Naruko looked at him puzzled and asked, “Who? You and me, or something?”

“Yeah,” Imaizumi replied before he thought about how that probably sounded.

Naruko stared at him more amazed than before, and then suddenly laughed and shoved him.

“What a joke you're making.”

Actually, I wasn't joking, Imaizumi almost had time to say, feeling offended, but there was another round of laughter from behind him, and he realised he'd missed what next the boggart had transformed into.

Afterwards, Professor called Onoda over, and he walked towards the wardrobe as if he were going to be executed. The doors opened, but the inside was empty. Nothing jumped out, nothing started screaming, and Imaizumi thought, what does that mean—

But soon he was even more surprised when the air around him suddenly... turned cold. The classroom grew darker, and then more, and more, and the room was plunged into the darkness of night. No, it wasn't a room anymore. Glancing to his right, Imaizumi didn't see desks. The students were still there, but there were now tall trees near them, so tall that you couldn't see the tops.

So Onoda's fear was the night forest?

No, Imaizumi realised quickly when he heard an owl hooting somewhere in the distance, and then something began to crackle and rustle. He saw Onoda's shoulders shudder and he felt scared, very scared.

“Hey.” Naruko tugged Imaizumi's sleeve and nodded somewhere to the side. “Look at that — Manami got nervous.”

Imaizumi looked over and the first thing he wondered was, when did Manami even manage to show up here?

But yes, he looked very tense. His fists clenched as if he was ready to rush into battle. But with whom?

The tree branches snapped even harder, and Imaizumi grimaced. Something was getting closer.

The atmosphere around him was getting tense, and then something let out a shrill and truly terrifying roar.

“Fuck — I can't see anything, what the hell is that?” Naruko said, clutching at Imaizumi's elbow.

“I have no idea,” Imaizumi replied, involuntarily feeling the urge to run away from this place.

Onoda was apparently too scared to use the spell. Instead, he covered his ears with his hands and squatted down, trying to shrink, to hide, and Professor decided to intervene. He stood in front of Onoda, drawing the boggart's attention back to himself, and the darkness was suddenly replaced by light. Or rather... fire.

The flames, high and hot, surrounded them all in a ring, causing them to panic. Imaizumi involuntarily yanked Naruko backwards, behind his back, and Professor pronounced a stiff and determined, “Riddikulus!”

Exploding with bright multi-coloured fireworks, the flames gradually began to fade, and then the illusion of the forest also dissipated.

“You can try it another time,” Professor said, placing his palm on the shoulder of Onoda, who had just stood up with difficulty.

Imaizumi seemed to wake up from his trance and looked in amazement at equally amazed Naruko, who was holding onto his hand, clinging to it in a way that hurt.

Blushing sharply, Naruko let go and jerked back. Imaizumi would have been frankly embarrassed by the incident, but he saw Onoda's face, which was in tears, and a wave of worry washed over him.

“Hey, it's okay, Sakamichi.” Naruko put one arm around Onoda's neck. “Whatever it is, it's really creepy. I almost jumped into Hotshot's arms out of fear, can you believe it?”

Naruko chuckled softly, and it seemed to have some effect — Onoda smiled weakly, wiping his cheeks.

Soon he finally calmed down, taking a seat on one of the desks, while lesson continued. Imaizumi tried not to look at Naruko, because it was still kind of embarrassing. From his actions, Naruko's actions and his words. Boggart and his images didn't bother Imaizumi anymore — he cared about that strange feeling that had settled in his chest, but everything changed again when the Gryffindor students ran out and the line went up to the Slytherins.

Though they behaved with restraint, every single one of them wanted to show off — purebloods all over. Except... perhaps one.

Imaizumi had forgotten about him again, but remembered when Manami's last name came out of Professor's mouth.

“You're next, come on,” Professor said, waving towards the wardrobe, and Manami moved slowly and apparently reluctantly.

Imaizumi honestly had no idea what the boggart would prepared for Manami, but it didn't take long for the answer to come. When the cupboard doors opened again, something red fell from there.

That red something began to take shape in the same second, and soon enough it looked like a human. Imaizumi frowned against his will as he recognised his own team's uniform — it was definitely it. And wearing that uniform was... a boy? A boy who was sitting on the floor with his back turned to everyone.

What's more, it appeared to be Onoda as he raised his hand, pulled the hood off his head, and turned slightly towards Manami.

Imaizumi opened his mouth in shock and turned around sharply to look at the real Onoda — there was only frozen horror in his eyes.

Turning back around, Imaizumi noticed Manami trembling, and then noticed another detail. Boggart, who had taken Onoda's form, was holding a Snitch in his raised right hand. He also said something. Something that only Manami could hear, and Imaizumi felt the unnaturalness and insanity of the situation so keenly that he felt uneasy.

Manami did nothing. Just raised his wand for a few seconds, lowered it, and simply ran off without saying anything. The door slammed shut quietly behind him, and Imaizumi barely found the strength to look at Onoda again. He even turned pale, now staring at the floor with a blank stare, and then he couldn't stand it either. He broke out of his seat and ran off after Manami.

Professor didn't comment on the situation, just pretended that nothing had happened, and continued the practice, which was probably... for the best?

“There's definitely something wrong with this boggart,” Naruko snorted, waving his palm. “It's showing bullshit.”

“Bullshit?” Imaizumi barely audibly asked, glancing at Naruko, but the latter seemed seriously sure of what he was saying.

“You think Manami might be afraid of Sakamichi? That's nonsense.”

Didn't you notice anything at all, you idiot? Imaizumi wanted to ask but didn't. That Onoda had a Snitch in his hand, and Manami was trembling like he was ready to cry. And it certainly couldn't be 'bullshit'. It actually meant one very obvious thing, in Imaizumi's opinion...

When lesson was finally over, the students were clamouring before they even left the classroom.

“Well, shall we go straight to practice now that we've been delayed?” Naruko asked, stretching.

“Yeah, we have to,” Imaizumi nodded, heading for the exit as one of the last to leave. “We'll leave the bags in the changing room then.”

“Oh, by the way, I almost forgot!” Naruko jumped on the spot. “Which one of us won? You know — who was the fastest to beat the boggart?”

“I don't know,” Imaizumi shrugged. “Did you time it?”

“What? No,” Naruko objected as if he'd been insulted.

“Neither did I,” Imaizumi replied.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, and then laughed at the same time. Yes, it was totally ridiculous. Just like all their other attempts to compete at something.

As they changed and ran out with their brooms onto the field, where some of the boys were already warming up, Naruko was almost immediately faced with Kinjou and Tadokoro. Upon seeing the captain, he quickly covered his mouth with his palm and nearly bent in half, causing Imaizumi to panic.

“Don't. Dare. Do you hear that?” he hissed, fearing that now Naruko wouldn't hold back and blurt out everything that had happened in class with the boggart.

“What's the matter? What's wrong, Naruko?” Kinjou asked, scratching the spot under his nose as if on purpose, and Naruko burst into laughter, turning away hastily.

“It's nothing special. He's just being idiotic as usual,” Imaizumi replied glumly, trying not to blush.

Thankfully, Naruko calmed down rather quickly, then looked around the field, and was immediately surprised.

“What, is Sakamichi not here yet? He even left earlier,” he said puzzled, glancing at Kinjou and Tadokoro again.

“He didn't even show up,” Kinjou replied calmly, studying something on a piece of parchment. “Where did you two manage to lose him?”

“I have to find him,” Imaizumi said glumly, lowering his gaze.

“What?” Naruko wondered. “Maybe he's just running late. He'll be here in a minute.”

“I'm sorry,” Imaizumi apologised to the captain. “But please let me go: I'm pretty sure something... happened.”

Kinze nodded weakly.

“If it's urgent.”

“Hey! What's wrong? I'm coming with you too!” Naruko was immediately outraged.

“No,” Tadokoro growled and grabbed him by the hood. “You were terrible at the last practice — today you're going to have a special assignment with me, okay, you red bean?”

“What? I'm always awesome — don't lie!” Naruko replied resentfully and tried to break free, but Tadokoro wouldn't let go.

Imaizumi apologised once more and hurried back to the changing room. He changed his sports robe back into his school robe because he knew now: Onoda was definitely not going to practice today. He had to squeeze all the speed out of his broom to get back to school as quickly as possible.

Leaving his broom in the special room, Imaizumi hurried upstairs to Gryffindor Tower. When he finally reached the portrait, his breathlessness barely allowed him to call out the password audibly. He made his way inside, looking around for his target among the boys, but Onoda was certainly not here. He was found in their dormitory. Sitting on his bed, his back to the door, he didn't even react to the intrusion.

Imaizumi stood on the threshold for a few more seconds and then still decided to walk into the dorm. To approach his friend.

“Couldn't talk to him, huh?” Imaizumi asked, afraid to break the silence, and stopped not far from Onoda's bed.

Onoda only shook his head and turned around slightly. Thankfully, he wasn't crying.

“I saw it right, didn't I?” he asked. “What happened in the classroom. Did you see it too?”

Imaizumi nodded tensely, lowering his gaze, and Onoda continued,

“I knew it... He— told me everything was fine, but in reality—”

“I didn't expect this,” Imaizumi replied quietly. “I didn't think... that losing that match would affect him so much.”

“That was our promise,” Onoda said after a short silence, and Imaizumi looked up in surprise. “Play together. We promised each other that we'd both get through the tryouts and meet in a match, but... if I could have known in advance how it would end, I never would have agreed. Or... I don't know. Maybe I did it because I wanted him to stay interested in me. I was afraid of losing him. I always have been. But I guess that's what it came down to. At the end of the year, over the summer, and even now... we hardly communicate at all. I thought I was just imagining it, but he's really trying to avoid me.”

Imaizumi didn't answer. He didn't know what he could have answered. He'd never had to deal with a situation like this before, he had no idea how to solve such a problem, and he mentally berated himself for it because Onoda definitely needed help, and he... as a friend of sorts, couldn't do anything for him at all.

“Oh,” Onoda suddenly exhaled, as if remembering an important thing. “It's already practice time, isn't it? Why did you—”

“I went to look for you,” Imaizumi replied. “I assumed you were upset or— well—”

“You shouldn't miss practice because of me,” Onoda was scared, waving his hands. “I'm sorry to bother you, but it's really not your problem! I mean— I mean, you don't have to worry—”

Imaizumi bit his lip, then shook his head.

“Yeah. Yeah, you're probably right: I shouldn't... get involved, because what happened is— something personal to you, but if you feel bad— I'm sorry, I just wasn't thinking. I ran here as soon as I realised you didn't come to practice. It was an idiotic thing to do, but I didn't know how to leave you alone. I'm sorry about that.”

Onoda smiled weakly in response and turned away again, looking somewhere in the floor.

“Maybe I was wrong to make that choice early last year after all?” he asked. “I don't know now.”

“Would you want to leave?” Imaizumi's voice trembled at that question because no, he couldn't even think about it. He didn't want to play on a team without Onoda — it wouldn't be the same. Everything would be messed up.

“No,” Onoda shook his head. “Of course I don't want to leave. I enjoy playing together with you guys so much. You, Naruko, Makishima and the others. But—”

“There is someone more important, isn't there?” Imaizumi smiled weakly, not realising how he could be smiling right now.

“I'm sorry…” Onoda apologised again. “I guess— I guess that's probably true. But I really don't know what I should do now. Maybe Manami doesn't want to play with me anymore, and I don't want to hurt him again because he loves Quidditch so much. I'd rather let him be happy and I'll... somehow do without it.”

Glancing towards the bed next to him, Imaizumi decided to sit down as well and thought about how amazing it must be... to meet someone you'd be willing to sacrifice the things you like for. Amazing and very, very painful. Would he want something like that for himself? Would he be able to make a choice?

Yes, Manami's boggart definitely hinted that Manami didn't want to face Onoda in battle again, because he was afraid of losing to him. Onoda really only had two mutually exclusive options: either continue playing with the people he enjoyed playing with and likely lose Manami permanently, or leave and try to regain what was more precious than Snitch and victory.

Imaizumi, unfortunately, couldn't put himself in Onoda's shoes and feel all that, because he simply didn't have the kind of person Manami was to Onoda. Imaizumi's life was probably many times easier: he just wanted to play Quidditch, he wanted to get a little better, and he didn't have to worry about his opponent's feelings, because he didn't get intimate with whoever he had to fight on the field.

So, was there anything he could advise Onoda right now?

Unless—

“Perhaps I should apologise to you for being such a shitty friend and not understanding a lot of things, but,” Imaizumi began hesitantly, “you should know that I… and Naruko too, I'm sure... we'll support you no matter what you choose. And if… common sense doesn't tell you which decision is the right one, listen to your heart and… follow it. I think… it's right for you.”

It was probably not what Onoda wanted to hear right now, but he turned around again.

“Maybe,” he replied, and for the first time in this conversation, there was a faint hope in his voice.

Chapter Text

Imaizumi, of course, had no time to get used to their current predicament before the new one occurred. And how could he when the problems were piling up one after another in a relentless avalanche?

Onoda came running into the dormitory just before bedtime, panicked and dishevelled, as if he'd fallen down the stairs a couple of times on the way here. Just seeing him, Imaizumi mentally cursed because even without words it was clear that the situation had become even worse.

“Manami's been taken!” Onoda shouted in despair, ignoring the rest of the dorm mates who had opened their mouths in surprise.

That was true of Imaizumi and Naruko, too — they were surprised as well.

Taken? What does that mean? From school?

“What do you mean? Taken where?” Naruko asked, tossing aside a large children's book about dragons.

Onoda looked like he was about to cry. His shoulders shook, his lips pressed into a thin line. Imaizumi jumped up abruptly from the bed and hurried over to him, grabbing him by the elbow to take him to the bathroom. It was empty in there and they could talk quietly without prying ears.

Naruko rushed after him, and as the door closed behind him, Imaizumi let go of Onoda near a row of sinks and gazed into his frightened face.

“Hey, where did they take him?” Imaizumi asked quietly, fearing that his question would bring his friend to tears, but Onoda was still holding back.

“I don't know!” he answered, and Imaizumi could have sworn that he had never seen Onoda in such fear before. “He was in the infirmary this morning! I decided to go see him after dinner, but the Healer said he'd been taken away from school! Like— his mom had taken him — I don't know! They didn't explain anything to me at all and sent me away...”

“His mom?” Naruko asked in surprise, raising an eyebrow. “When things like that happen? It must have been the Ministry of Magic! I'm telling you for sure — they were interested in this case!”

“What are you talking about?” Imaizumi grumbled, interrupting. “Manami was in the Hospital Wing. He's definitely sick with something — they probably just decided to transfer him to a hospital where more experienced specialists could help him, or—” Imaizumi really didn't want to finish his theory, but Onoda looked at him with such a demanding look that it made him uncomfortable. “If he was found to be a danger to the students, he could be— isolated.”

“Oh my God, those options are horrible!” Onoda exclaimed, panicking even more. “I have to find out exactly where he is!”

“Wait — calm down!” Imaizumi asked, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Just calm down and think. It won't be a big deal — the adults are on this case, they'll figure it out and help. I'm pretty sure things will get better soon.”

But Onoda just shook his head, unwilling to listen.

“You don't understand... It's more complicated... It's more complicated than it seems.”

“What? What's more complicated?” Imaizumi asked, but there was no answer.

Onoda jerked back, rested one palm against the wall, pressed the other to his mouth, and drew air in deeply with his nose, then exhaled. It didn't look encouraging at all, and... was there something he wasn't telling them? Was he hiding something?

Glancing at Naruko, who stood in utter bewilderment, Imaizumi caught his answering worried look for a second, then sighed himself.

“Listen,” he began quietly, hoping to get through to Onoda. “School staff follow a certain set of rules, and if they're not allowed to share personal information about students, they won't. Perhaps the case is really serious — from the looks of it, you're right. And maybe that was the reason you weren't told about anything, but Manami is a minor teenager, and there are things he can't solve on his own, but adults can because they are wiser and more experienced. Just send him an owl with a note. Or maybe he's already sent you a letter and things will be figured out soon. I realise you're concerned, but there's probably no other option right now but to wait a little while.”

“I'm not sure about that,” Onoda said, lowering his hand and wrinkling his nose. “We had a fight yesterday, and I don't think— Manami's not likely to want to answer me. Maybe even... he thinks it was for the best.”

“What are you talking about?” Naruko exploded. “You two are in love and so forth! Aren't you?”

But Onoda only tensed up more when he heard this, and Imaizumi hurried to intervene.

“Shut up. That's not the point right now...” he said and got an angry look from Naruko, who bristled like an angry cat. “And don't look like that — you never think before you say something.”

“I don't think?” Naruko got even angrier and took a threatening step towards him. “Maybe you're the one who doesn't think, because you don't know anything about human relationships. You're the retard who's just playing smart now! Sakamichi feels bad and he wants to know where Manami's been taken! If I were him, I'd feel the same way and want the same thing, and you're telling him to calm down! How do you expect him to do that? Have you thought about how you would calm down if you were in that situation? Of course — you just don't care about anyone! And you don't care about Manami either — you just want the problem to go away on its own and for us to ignore the problem!”

Imaizumi boiled up at those words as well, unable to hold back any longer. He didn't understand how Naruko could say all that. Now. Could it be that despite everything that had happened between the two of them, he still hadn't changed his mind? Still thought—

“Don't you dare call me indifferent!” Imaizumi objected, looking at Naruko. “You're my friends, and I want you to be okay! I'm doing everything in my power! I'm voicing the most sensible solutions I can think of! Or maybe you have a better plan? What do you suggest we do? How are we supposed to find something out?”

“Guys!” Onoda shrieked, interrupting them both. Imaizumi fell silent, Naruko didn't say another word either, and both stared at their friend at the same time. “Stop it, please. I appreciate everything each of you do. You always help me in your own way, so don't fight... at least for now.”

Cooling down almost instantly, Imaizumi lowered his gaze guiltily, feeling lousy about the whole situation, about Naruko and about the ridiculous argument that was once again doing no good.

“I'm sorry,” Imaizumi apologised to Onoda. “I'm sorry that I can't do something for you right now that would actually make any difference. I promise I'll think of something.”

“Me too!” Naruko exclaimed fervently. “We'll definitely help you!”

Onoda smiled weakly, and that smile made Imaizumi feel relieved.

“Thank you,” Onoda said. “I'm really grateful to you. And I'll try to write to him. Maybe it won't be so bad, and he'll write back...”

It seemed the most sensible solution for the moment, but there was no way to execute it as quickly as they wanted. When the three of them returned to the dormitory and Onoda had written a hurried note, it was discovered that his owl had gone on strike, refusing to fly to the receiver. Generally, post owls weren't supposed to behave in such inappropriate ways, but Sleepy was apparently the big exception to the rule.

It was too late to run to the Owlery, and Onoda went to the sixth year dormitory to borrow Teshima's bird with a dejected look. And it would seem that this action should have calmed them all down at least a little, but by morning the general mood had only become more tense.

Imaizumi had stayed up most of the night, laying out in his head all the options he could think of. He needed a plan in case Manami really wasn't going to communicate with Onoda and respond to him with letters, but what kind? How could he get the information, and preferably in a short amount of time?

Waking up early in the morning as if from an epiphany, Imaizumi climbed out of bed and settled at his desk, shivering from the cold, to write his own letter, which he planned to send from the Owlery before breakfast. He'd never thought he'd ask his parents for such a strange request, but he decided to take a chance because they had a lot of connections in the Ministry of Magic after all and could basically find out anything they wanted to know if they wanted to. All he had to do was give them a lead, and Imaizumi still thought it was one of the wizarding hospitals, and most likely a very good hospital like St Mungo's.

After getting dressed and leaving the dormitory before everyone was even awake, he hurried to the Owlery, and even made it to the breakfast starting time. Onoda was late because he seemed to have gone somewhere before that too, and his look was so broken that Imaizumi didn't risk striking up a conversation. He probably should have said something supportive right about now, but his head felt empty.

A couple of times he cast a brief hopeful glance at Naruko, but the latter had been sullenly silent all through breakfast, and it was clear that he had nothing to say either. Because of this, the lessons passed in a heavy atmosphere, and after class Onoda sat down to write a new letter though he hesitated to write even the first line. Imaizumi sighed heavily, shoving Naruko's cat, who was playing out and scratching his arm, away from him, and decided to approach him.

“Look, if Manami doesn't answer—” he started awkwardly, not knowing how best to put it. He hadn't really planned to talk about his letter to his parents, because he wasn't sure they'd take his request seriously in the first place, but right now, it seemed like any means would do. “Anyway, I wrote to my parents and asked them to find out anything... Well— they work at the Ministry, and they have connections — maybe they could find out if a Hogwarts student had been admitted to some hospital...”

Onoda looked at him with such astonishment, then dropped the quill and almost jumped up on the spot.

“Y-you— what, really? You asked your parents to help for my sake?”

Imaizumi became even more embarrassed.

“I understand that you want to know everything as soon as possible, but I unfortunately can't promise that an answer will come quickly. Most likely they'll have to go roundabout because the information we want is not something that can be given away that easily...”

“God, thank you, Shunsuke,” Onoda responded immediately, his eyes watering. “You're such a wonderful friend. I couldn't have found a better one.”

“Um— you don't have to thank me — nothing is known yet,” Imaizumi objected, raising his palms in confusion. “And don't say that in front of Naruko, okay? He'll get really upset.”

“Yeah, right,” Onoda grinned awkwardly. “But I love him as much as I love you, and I hope he knows that.”

“Who knows what?” a sudden third voice asked, and Imaizumi flinched.

It appeared that they hadn't even noticed Naruko come back into the dormitory, but luckily he seemed to have only heard the end of the last sentence. Which Imaizumi decided to take advantage of.

“Nothing special, we were just wondering if you knew what your adorable cat was doing to the toilet paper, which is actually shared, in the bathroom,” he smirked, turning around.

Naruko's face contorted into a grimace of displeasure.

“Oh, fuck you, Hotshot. Ask your rich parents to buy you a private one — let Claw play with whatever she wants,” he replied, grabbing a pillow from the nearest bed and throwing it at Imaizumi.

Imaizumi dodged, but the pillow hit Onoda, causing him to let out a muffled shriek.

“I'm sorry, Sakamichi, I didn't mean to.” Naruko snickered discreetly into his fist.

“It's no surprise, really. She's just acting appropriately for her owner,” Imaizumi added with a smile, and Naruko took the next pillow.

* * *

Time was dragging slowly as if each day had turned into an endless History of Magic lesson. Onoda was frowning, having yet to receive a letter from Manami, and Imaizumi was losing patience. He knew for a fact that his parents had already received his note, but whether they had learnt something or sent a reply was impossible to tell. All he had to do was wait, and for the first time, Imaizumi regretted that wizards didn't use that handy Muggle thing called a mobile phone. Thanks to it, it was possible to instantly contact anyone even if they were on the other side of the country, and it would be very useful right now.

Nevertheless, the end of the week approached, and they all remained tensely in the dark. It was only on Friday after school that anything changed because Onoda ran into the dormitory so excited and unrestrained that he almost blabbed in front of the entire fourth-year boys' dorm.

When Naruko not particularly politely asked their roommates to leave, Onoda quickly told them about his plan, which had apparently only matured in his head a moment ago and was just... crazy.

No, Imaizumi of course had taken the assumption that the Hospital Wing kept student medical records and that Manami's records might have information about where he'd been sent after the infirmary, but... who would ever think of trying to sneak into the Healer's office and find out it? Well, yeah... Onoda would.

And God, he was so excited about this crazy idea, he was so full of hope that Imaizumi couldn't refuse him even if the whole thing was terribly stupid and risky.

The idea was to lure Madam Bland out of the office by scaring her enough for her not to take the time to lock the door. To do this, Onoda suggested that Naruko pretend to have a bad stomach ache, and Imaizumi was to run to the infirmary and sound the alarm. Well, it could work. When he took the Healer to Gryffindor Tower, Onoda could go into her office and find Manami's medical records.

The gist of it was simple and yet at the same time, it didn't fit in his head. It was unlikely that Imaizumi had ever thought of signing up for something like this. If they were exposed, they would all be punished, and his parents, who had never received a single reprimand or comment on their son's behaviour or academic performance during his entire schooling, would also find out about it. Imaizumi tried to be perfect, just to avoid unnecessary problems, unnecessary conversations. As long as he was a diligent student, his parents allowed him to play Quidditch, and there was nothing Imaizumi needed more than Quidditch. Up to a certain point...

Now, besides his favourite sports game, he had his best friends. There was Onoda and Naruko, and for either of them, Imaizumi was willing to do many things, even take reckless risks.

If it would help Onoda in any way, he just had to do it. And not just for the sake of friendship. It was because he really cared and wanted Onoda to get better.

They decided to do the mission when dinner started, so Naruko plopped down on the bed, chuckling, and Imaizumi suggested that Onoda find Teshima and tell him that he and Naruko wouldn't be coming to practice. Onoda nodded cheerfully and ran off.

Imaizumi nervously waited for him to return soon, but it didn't happen. It was getting close to practice time, and maybe Onoda had decided not to miss it at least today, or maybe Teshima had made him stay, which could also be the reason for the delay. Either way being in the dormitory alone with Naruko and just waiting was very hard. Imaizumi paced around the room in circles, not daring to break the silence, thinking of the consequences if they failed. Naruko was lying on the bed with his hands under his head, rolling a lollipop around in his mouth with a barely audible sound, looking up at the ceiling and probably also thinking about what would happen if they failed.

When it got really bad, Imaizumi decided to go to the bathroom and wash his face with cold water. He rinsed his face a couple of times, placed his hands on the edges of the sink, and noticed in horror how his fingers trembled. Fear. It was fear. He was afraid and at the same time realised he couldn't give up halfway. They couldn't let Onoda down.

It'll be alright, you'll do fine, you'll do well in your role, Imaizumi mentally encouraged himself as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. No, he was a disgustingly bad actor. He couldn't even express his true feelings adequately, let alone act them out. Shit, he's gonna fuck up. He'll fuck up and they won't be able to find out anything because of it. They'd be left waiting again, which was already sickening.

Washing his face once more, Imaizumi grabbed a towel, wiped his face irritably, and stepped back into the dormitory, not knowing how to tell Naruko that they were unlikely to make it work.

To his surprise, Naruko was no longer lying in bed. Instead, he was squatting in front of the dresser and busily rustling something in the bottom drawer. Abruptly remembering that he had set aside this drawer specifically for potion ingredients and other herbal junk, Imaizumi snapped out of his spot as fast as he could.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing in there?!” he asked harshly, nearly running into Naruko and grabbing his wrists.

Naruko yelped from the strong grip and opened his palm, in which Imaizumi, to his horror, recognised an amaryllis bulb.

“What—” he exhaled, desperately hoping that Naruko hadn't managed to eat one of them. “You ate something? Answer me! Did you eat it?!”

“Don't yell! I didn't have time!” Naruko was outraged, broke free and lost his balance.

He fell but quickly got to his feet and threw the bulb back into the paper bag. Imaizumi shuddered, realising he just couldn't believe it.

“You're lying...” he whispered, and then grabbed Naruko by the shoulders, forcing him to look into his eyes. “You're lying! You ate it! It's poisonous — you can't eat it! Are you trying to kill yourself?!”

“One won't do anything!” Naruko yelled back, trying to break free again, but Imaizumi didn't let go this time.

“It will!” he said, feeling real panic. “You're an idiot! Jesus, you're such an idiot! Why the fuck did you do that?!”

“Because it'll give us a better chance! I just tried to do it safe!” Naruko jerked again.

Imaizumi loosened his grip as his heart plummeted somewhere downwards because he understood everything. Naruko had done this for the sake of their plan. For the sake of making him, Imaizumi, scared to death. For the sake of Onoda being able to find out what he couldn't live peacefully without... God, it was so—

Biting his lip painfully, Imaizumi lowered his hands, clenched his fists tightly, thought for a few more seconds, and then grabbed Naruko again — now by the elbow — and pulled him with him.

“Hey, what are you doing?” he said indignantly.

“We're going to the infirmary,” Imaizumi said firmly, heading for the exit of the dormitory, but Naruko stiffened, and then clung to the dark red curtain with his free hand, clutching the bedpost.

“No! Not yet! We'll wait for Sakamichi, and we were planning to go at dinner time, when everyone's in the Great Hall — it's better that way!”

“Go to hell, Naruko!” Imaizumi turned round sharply. “Do you want to die? You think I'm going to let you?”

“We'll make it! It'll be all right!” Naruko didn't listen, continuing to push his own agenda.

“No way — I'm not going to risk you!” Imaizumi replied and pulled Naruko with him again. After all, he was bigger, taller, and physically stronger. He could handle it. Could he?

Naruko, of course, was stubborn. Very stubborn. Imaizumi had to unhook his fingers from the wooden post by force while his cat sat on the bed and looked at them like they were two idiots.

When Imaizumi dragged Naruko towards the exit the next time, he was pretty sure he had victory in his pocket, but no sooner had he believed it completely than something happened that made him almost wail. From the pain.

Abruptly pulling his injured hand out, Imaizumi looked down at the hand in front of him in shock and found obvious teeth prints on the palm. Naruko's teeth, damn him. What a bastard.

It took a while to recover from such an unexpected action. For the first few seconds, Imaizumi just stood there staring dumbfoundedly at his hand as if seeing it for the first time in his life. Only then did he finally bring himself to turn around and look at Naruko. He was standing there, breathing heavily after trying to break free and seemingly ready to fight if Imaizumi tried to drag him anywhere again.

“You—” Imaizumi exhaled, still in a state of confusion. “I can't believe it. You just did that. You bit me, you little shit!”

Naruko took a step back, adopting an even more aggressive posture, and said, “I'm not going anywhere now. We're waiting for dinner.”

Imaizumi couldn't even object. He still didn't understand. How. Was. This. Possible.

But Naruko didn't seem to be planning on changing his mind. He went back and sat on his bed while Imaizumi tried to restrain himself from swearing and wanting to just stun him with a spell and carry him unconscious to the Hospital Wing.

Clenching his fists again, he turned away, fighting himself and trying to come to terms with what was truly difficult. What was he supposed to count on? On luck? On them getting there in time, or on the dosage not being dangerous enough to cause death?

“I want to know where Manami is and what's up with him too, okay?” Naruko said quietly, pulling him from his thoughts, and Imaizumi couldn't stand it.

What came into his head at that moment was though hardly crazier than what was going on here, but he didn't want to think about it for a second longer, because he certainly couldn't have done it otherwise...

Following Naruko the same way, Imaizumi said nothing. Nor did he say anything when, without any warning, he grabbed Naruko's cheeks with both hands and leaned in to kiss him roughly and awkwardly on the lips in the next second.

A slurred, half-suffocated sound escaped from somewhere in Naruko's throat and lodged in Imaizumi's throat, making him dizzy and feeling like he was drunk on Butterbeer.

It was so strange, incomprehensible, unfamiliar. Imaizumi realised at the same instant that he didn't know what to do next. But before he could do anything, Naruko pushed him away and looked at him with such shocked eyes that Imaizumi just gasped.

“What are you doing?” Naruko asked, slowly and fearfully, and then pressed the back of his palm to his mouth. “I mean— I—”

“Nothing...” Imaizumi replied with equal difficulty. “I'm sorry,” he added, feeling simply awful now.

He wanted to leave and had already taken a step to the side when Naruko suddenly grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

The moment of truth.

Imaizumi swallowed. He knew what was happening. Realised that Naruko was getting to his feet and coming closer. When he was right in front of him, Imaizumi didn't risk lowering his eyes and looked over the bright red top of his head, because, God, God, less than a minute ago he had kissed Naruko. Kissed him, aware of his actions and not trying to stop.

“Hey, come here,” he suddenly heard the voice say, and yet he did it. On automatic, he looked down into Naruko's eyes.

There was still surprise in them, shock, but... something else too... desire?

Imaizumi didn't have time to think about it properly — Naruko grabbed him firmly by the tie and pulled him closer, forcing him to bend over. Imaizumi bent over. And closed his eyes again, feeling them again — Naruko's lips with his own. They were hard, weathered from constant training in the cold, but at the same time they were soft and probably the most amazing thing in the world if Imaizumi had the chance to compare. But there was nothing to compare to, and the realisation of his first-second kiss hit like an adrenaline rush during a deciding match.

It wasn't the same as it had been a moment ago. Naruko opened his mouth, pressed himself tighter against Imaizumi's mouth, and then suddenly ran his tongue over his lower lip, and Imaizumi moaned. He was thrown to the sky.

He was no longer aware of his actions when he turned his head more comfortably, when he hugged Naruko, placing one hand on his back and running the other into the hair at the back of his neck, when he found his tongue with his own and pushed stubbornly.

He could taste the flavour. Unpleasant, unwelcome, bitter. The taste of that poison that Naruko had eaten — he had really hoped to hide it all at first, but now Imaizumi had proof. And he forced himself to forget about it because damn it, kissing Naruko was so cool. It was like a dream, and it was so real.

Imaizumi tried to take the initiative. To push his tongue in deeper, to touch the prominent fangs or the palate, and each time he succeeded, he felt even more excited, crazier.

How long it lasted, he didn't realise. Naruko bit down hard on his lip, released his tie, and pressed his hot palm against Imaizumi's cheek, turning his face away.

“It's uncomfortable as hell — it hurts my neck to hold my head up all the time,” Naruko complained, to which Imaizumi could only grin and unclench his hands.

“Why are you kissing me all of a sudden?” he asked when he could catch his breath and sat down on Onoda's bed.

“You started it first!” Naruko was outraged, his cheeks flaming, though he hadn't seemed embarrassed at all before.

“It was an accident,” Imaizumi replied, causing even more commotion.

“You kissed me by accident! Are you an idiot?”

“Notice that I didn't poison myself. By the way, how's your stomach?”

Naruko fell silent, lowered his gaze, thinking for a moment, then shrugged.

“It's kind of, you know— not great. It seems to be working.”

“You're hopeless,” Imaizumi sighed tiredly. “Lie down. You'll have to be patient for another hour, and don't you dare die, or I'll pull you out of the grave and kill you myself, got it?”

Naruko smiled slightly, lay down on his bed next to the cat, and folded his arms on his stomach, interlocking his fingers.

“I liked it,” he said, covering his eyes.

Imaizumi took a sleepy glance towards the window.

“What? Eating poison?”

“Kissing,” Naruko replied, then added quietly, “with you.”

Imaizumi bit his lip again and wrinkled his nose because the memory was still too vivid. It made everything inside him swoon sweetly, and his heart quickened. He wanted it to continue. Wanted more. And how shitty it was to realise that he didn't have to do this if he didn't want to doom them both to pain.

“Me too,” Imaizumi replied nonetheless, thinking that this was probably the best moment of his life and that he'd never experience a better one.

* * *

Inaction was a torment. Imaizumi watched Naruko carefully, trying to see even the slightest change in his face, even the tiniest hint that he was in unbearable pain. Naruko was an excellent actor — he didn't give away his slowly deteriorating condition, except that he was pale and had a few drops of sweat on his forehead. It didn't escape the cat's attention, either, as she lay down next to his side and rested her head on his stomach as if she believed she could banish the pain with her presence. Imaizumi wanted to do something, too, even if he wasn't sure he knew the right thing to do during the poisoning — it was almost unbearable to sit and just wait.

He tried not to think about bad things, tried to distract himself, but creepy thoughts still came into his head even though Imaizumi had never considered himself paranoid. The chance of death was very small, right? Now more than ever he wanted to get to the library and at least learn more about this plant, but naturally Imaizumi couldn't go anywhere. And God, he felt like the ultimate nutcase and a complete idiot for just sitting there now and letting the situation deteriorate.

He wished it would be dinner time sooner. Sooner.

When Onoda returned, he looked at Naruko with surprise, probably suspecting something, but Naruko of course didn't say anything to him. In fact, ten minutes ago he had asked Imaizumi to keep quiet too because Onoda was already facing the most unnerving role. Imaizumi complied again, feeling utterly desperate. He could barely wait for the right moment to act... He was shifting his notes parchments, sorting them, and his hands were shaking so much... It was a good thing Onoda had turned away and was apparently too busy with his thoughts, otherwise he would have realised something was wrong for sure.

“Are you ready?” Imaizumi asked when fifteen minutes had passed since dinner had started, and Onoda rose from the bed restlessly and nodded.

Imaizumi mentally prayed that something else hadn't happened to Naruko during his absence, and he and Onoda hurried out the door. The familiar corridors were almost blending together in his eyes, Imaizumi was practically running, unable to see the road and heading on automatic, and then he couldn't stand it anymore and decided to tell Onoda the truth about the amaryllis bulb.

Onoda was scared too, and that somehow made Imaizumi feel a little calmer. They split up not far from the infirmary — Onoda hid in the next corridor, and Imaizumi, without a second's hesitation, burst into the room with the rows of identical beds and then into the Healer's office, screaming without recognising his own voice, “Madam Bland!”

Fortunately, the Healer was in place. She gave a startled gasp, dropping her quill, and immediately became angry at the noisy and tactless intrusion.

“No, this isn't Hospital Wing, it's a Great Hall, have you—” she began, pulling her glasses down the bridge of her nose, but was interrupted as Imaizumi came to the desk and sobbed through a heavy breathlessness. “What's wrong?”

“Naruko...” Imaizumi could barely utter, his throat like a hot desert, “that idiot ate an amaryllis bulb...”

Madam Bland immediately jumped up, and the legs of the chair creaked nastily on the floor.

“Where is he?”

“In our dorm,” Imaizumi replied, feeling his panic spilling over the edge, becoming impossibly large. He was ready to cry right now. “Please do something about it.”

The Healer didn't ask anything else. In a hurry, she ran over to the far cabinet, quickly opened and pulled out some kind of drawer. Imaizumi heard the clinking of glass vials for a few more seconds, then Madam Bland stuffed the items into her pockets and her thick heels clattered to the floor again.

It didn't matter now whether she had closed the office or not. She might have had the keys on her, but she didn't waste time — she just slammed the door shut, and Imaizumi asked her to hurry again.

All the way back to Gryffindor Tower, he couldn't think about anything but his fear and annoyance that their common room was so far away from Hospital Wing. When he was finally back in the dormitory, Naruko looked even worse. Madam Bland ran over to his bed, crouched on the edge and quickly assessed his condition.

“How long ago did this happen?”

“An hour ago. Maybe a little more than that,” Imaizumi replied with a shiver in his voice, standing next to them.

The Healer nodded and took out a vial of some kind of strange coloured liquid from her pocket.

“It's going to be nasty, but you need to drink it all,” she said, uncorking the cap and helping Naruko into a semi-sitting position.

Naruko grabbed the vial, took the first sip, then immediately coughed but got over himself and drained the whole thing.

“Good for you.” The Healer took the vial back, then touched his forehead. “You have a high fever. You're going to throw up, and then we'll take you to the Hospital Wing — you'll be fine, don't worry about a thing.”

“Throw up?” Naruko asked with a wince, and Madam Bland nodded again.

“You need to clear your stomach before it's too late.”

Taking a small copper bowl out of another pocket, she took up her wand and non-verbally used a spell to enlarge it several times.

“Here,” she said, placing the bowl near Naruko's shoulder. “When you feel nauseous, don't hold back.”

Naruko's face contorted into a pained expression — he definitely didn't want to vomit in front of the Healer, but it wasn't five minutes later that he did throw up. Imaizumi shuddered at the sight and hurriedly turned away, pressing his palm to his mouth. God, it was so disgusting. He had imagined that it should be like this, but he hadn't had time to prepare himself mentally for it. Anxiety and fear still plagued him but began to subside as he listened to the most nasty sound in the world as Naruko vomited again.

“Get him a glass of water, please,” Madam Bland asked.

Imaizumi didn't immediately snap out of his trance but then quickly strolled to the end of the room to the coffee table to fill a glass from the decanter. It seemed to him that this nightmare would never end, but after another fifteen minutes they got Naruko to the infirmary — Imaizumi had volunteered to pick him up and carry him himself, unwilling to trust magic, and Naruko had stubbornly hidden his face behind his shoulder the whole way. At any other time, Imaizumi would have been terribly worried and embarrassed by the situation, but now he felt collected and serious.

Only when he gingerly laid Naruko down on the bed in the Hospital Wing the realisation that Naruko's fingers didn't immediately release the robe brought a slight confusion. It was as if it was a mute plea not to leave. Imaizumi didn't want to do it himself, but Madam Bland had advised him to go to dinner and asked him not to worry about his friend.

Before leaving, Imaizumi cast a brief glance towards the door leading to the Healer's office and remembered their plan. He didn't know if Onoda had successfully managed to complete his task and get the information, but now was the opportunity to find out. So after descending to the ground floor, Imaizumi quickly turned towards the Great Hall and, as he expected, he found Onoda in his seat.

Onoda was sitting sadly without touching his dinner and Imaizumi was already scared, but as it turned out a little later, for nothing. Onoda still managed to find Manami's medical records and find out what he needed to know, but talking about it in a crowded room wasn't the best decision. They agreed to go to the infirmary after dinner, to visit Naruko and to discuss the matter without any random listeners.

By the time they got back to the Hospital Wing, the room was gloomier as it darkened outside the windows. But Naruko, thankfully, was looking better and seemed a little hurt when he realised that Imaizumi had told Onoda about his real poisoning. However, all of that quickly faded into the background when Imaizumi heard the familiar name of the hospital where Manami had been transferred, according to the medical records. The situation immediately became clearer — now there was no doubt that this problematic guy was being taken on by experienced Healers, who, apparently, understood that area of ​​illness better than their school Healer.

Well, at St Mungo's, they would definitely deal with the problem, and everything would get better, their lives would get better, Imaizumi decided to himself and almost breathed out in relief, but Onoda suddenly voiced a wish that was definitely the last straw. Imaizumi felt dizzy and wanted so desperately to swear: Breaking the school rules might still be something he could understand, but what Onoda was going to do— No, this really was complete madness. He intended to fly to London on a broomstick. Escape from school, and then most likely to get caught in front of Muggles with the illegal use of a magical item. They could have expelled him from school for that!

But it was useless to talk him out of it. Naruko had tried, but Imaizumi had given up at once, mentally trying to convince himself that it was really necessary, if Onoda felt that way, and he seemed to have a good reason for his decisions. Now Imaizumi had no doubt: Onoda knew something about Manami that he hadn't told them, but what could it be?

There was no way to explain the method to get to St Mungo's in the infirmary: Madam Bland had returned quickly from dinner and escorted Imaizumi and Onoda out, saying that Naruko needed some rest. They could visit him in the morning, but for now they had to find an empty corridor to tell Onoda what he would have to do already... tomorrow.

There would be no avoiding trouble with the law, Imaizumi thought again doomily as he spoke of the old neglected department store in the centre of London that the entrance to the wizarding hospital had been disguised as.

But Onoda had decided for sure that he would fly straight after breakfast tomorrow, taking Sleepy with him to show him the way. It was a rather unusual way of doing it — Imaizumi had never thought of using a post owl before and using it to find the right person, but it did seem like she should really lead to Manami if Onoda asked.

They'd gone to bed late, playing a game of Wizard's Chess on Onoda's bed to distract themselves, and they hadn't had a good night's rest. Imaizumi had gotten up early, either because he was just nervous or because it was too unusual to sleep in their dormitory without Naruko. And he wanted so badly to see him right now. Even if he was asleep, just to sit next to him silently and barely breathing to... to finally feel that much-needed calm. What would he do if it wasn't Manami but Naruko being taken to who knows where and he had no way of finding out? Probably... he'd be tearing the hair out of his head. So was Onoda even... acting calm?

Going down to the still empty common room to read and wait for breakfast time, Imaizumi started thinking again about what Onoda could be hiding from them, but there were no ideas. For Manami's sake, Onoda was willing to risk anything, even possibly his own life — could that mean that Manami's own life was in danger? Could it be that his illness was some sort of irreversible curse?

But even if Imaizumi had said that he guessed there was some secret when Onoda had also come down to the common room before breakfast, there was still no answer, and it seemed like it was something that just had to be accepted. Perhaps Onoda just couldn't tell, because the secret didn't concern him alone, but Imaizumi was perhaps willing to turn a blind eye if things just got better and their lives returned to normal. Yeah, that would be enough.

When they stopped by to see Naruko before breakfast, he was quite alert. The pallor was gone, he was eager to get out of the infirmary, and he even managed to make jokes and laugh out loud. They were kicked out again because of this — the Healer seemed very nervous, but nevertheless Imaizumi went to breakfast with his spirits slightly lifted.

Onoda seemed to be cheerful too, but perhaps it was just the thought that he would see his Manami today. If everything worked out, of course. Imaizumi, to be honest, doubted it, but he couldn't dismiss the possibility of a successful outcome, either — there was a chance, albeit a small one.

As he walked Onoda to the broom room after breakfast, Imaizumi wished him good luck, hoping that when it was all over, Onoda wouldn't be expelled, or else he'd lose the chance to see his friend during school and play in the same matches with him. Ugh, Teshima would definitely be horrified when he found out what his Seeker had done.

After Onoda followed his owl on his broomstick, Imaizumi stared at him for a while, then thought about going back to the infirmary and asking the Healer for permission to stay, promising that they wouldn't make any noise. Still, without Naruko, he had absolutely no idea how to spend his day off. He didn't want to go to the library and do his homework right now but to see one particular person again, even if they'd seen each other an hour ago...

Imaizumi returned to the infirmary, hoping that Madam Bland would be in her office and wouldn't notice him, but she was standing by Naruko's bed, checking his temperature.

“It's you again,” she sighed, straightening up.

“I'm sorry,” Imaizumi saddened, stopping not far from the entrance. “If I promise not to make any noise, can I stay for a while?”

The Healer shook her head hopelessly, then still waved her palm and agreed. She went into her office, closed the door, and only then did Imaizumi dare to move. He walked over to Naruko's bed, slowly sat down on the edge, and stared out the window, trying his best to ignore the mocking smirk.

“What, you can't live without me for a couple of hours, can you?” Naruko drawled in a mocking tone that made Imaizumi wince.

He didn't answer, because he wouldn't have been able to say anything other than shut up you jerk you've been getting on my nerves for the last twenty-four hours and yes I can't live without you.

God, that was so humiliating.

“What about Sakamichi? He's already gone?” Naruko asked, apparently tired of waiting for an answer.

“Yeah,” Imaizumi said reluctantly. “I kept hoping he'd change his mind, but it's no use.”

“Oh, come on,” Naruko chuckled, reaching up and shoving him in the shoulder. “I already believed Sakamichi's feelings were serious, but this is just cool!”

“Quiet!” Imaizumi hissed at him. “And what do you mean by 'cool'? What's cool about it? It's crazy. He might not even get to meet Manami, but he'd be in a lot of trouble.”

Naruko snorted, put his hands behind his head, and made himself comfortable on the pillow. He looked up thoughtfully, then asked, “Would you do this?”

“What?” Imaizumi's hair nearly stood on end.

“Would you fly to London for me,” Naruko explained, and there was no hint of humour in his tone. He meant it.

“On a broomstick?” Imaizumi said, not knowing why he was playing this stupid game.

“Yeah.”

“No.”

As if he didn't believe those words, Naruko jumped up on the spot, taking a sitting position, and looked hurt and disgruntled.

“I knew you are just a stale arsehole! You don't have an ounce of romance in you — you could have played along with me for fun!”

Imaizumi couldn't help but grin. Folding his arms across his chest, it was now his turn to sneer.

“It just wouldn't be necessary. I wouldn't let someone take you away.”

Naruko blushed sharply, frowned and turned away.

“Yeah. What would you do then?”

“I'd kill everyone,” Imaizumi replied with a sly smile, and he could have given twenty galleons for the reaction that followed from Naruko after that.

Naruko bit his lip, pulled his head into his shoulders, blushing even more, and then gave a doomed groan and crawled out from under the blanket to move closer to Imaizumi and put his arms around his neck. Imaizumi hugged back with a quiet sigh and again noticing that he was doing it with pleasure because Naruko was warm and cuddling with him felt so good.

“Hey,” he called softly, slowly pulling away but not unhooking his arms. “Close your eyes...”

Imaizumi almost flinched and obeyed, realising that Naruko's face was very close and that he was going to kiss him again, but... instead of a kiss on the lips, Imaizumi felt Naruko slowly kissing his cheek, stretching the moment.

When he pulled away again, Imaizumi opened his eyes, facing Naruko's soft and almost wistful gaze that was looking somewhere on his lips.

“You're sweet, Shunsuke... Sometimes. Thanks for taking care of me. I never would've thought it, but you're a really fucking good friend nonetheless.”

Imaizumi barely held back a shudder again and turned away, feeling Naruko let him go. And no, he wasn't doing it because of friendship, not at all, Imaizumi wanted to state, but he couldn't. He didn't have to complicate things further even if he felt he couldn't live without it.

He couldn't live without Naruko and he had no idea what he would do if that feeling didn't go away before they graduated.

Chapter Text

Sometimes, waking up in the morning, Imaizumi realised that he was still haunted by the feeling of unreality of everything that had happened to his surroundings during the second half of his fourth year at Hogwarts. Returning his thoughts to all the key events and new information, he was practically dooming himself to headaches and confusion, unable to adjust and come to terms with it, even though it would be the most sensible action in his case — the problem concerned Onoda and Manami, and the problem was too serious. Naturally, he, a fifteen-year-old wizard, could do nothing to help.

And even though it was already the second week of the summer holidays, a well-deserved break, Imaizumi felt stuck at school — it was impossible not to think about it every single day. He quickly realised this and decided that apparently he could get nothing but this unwanted role of being a useless observer.

That obvious realisation caused almost physical pain — Naruko had tried his best to do what he could, and the only thing Imaizumi had been able to do was nearly ruin their mission when Onoda had planned to get to the school Healer's office to find out where Manami was from his medical records.

That was the kind of friend Imaizumi was, wasn't it? The further he went, the more he felt out of place. He felt superfluous. He was worried about Onoda, but every time, in contrast to his feelings, he met Naruko's real worry, which, it was easy to guess, was much more noticeable. It was more than clear to Imaizumi that his desire for things to get better for Onoda was nowhere near as strong. He could admit to himself that he would have been okay with Manami not being in their lives initially, and the obvious truth was that neither Onoda nor Naruko now would agree with him.

Manami was creating an imbalance in the system, but he couldn't be removed.

When he had shown up at the end-of-year Quidditch match, after drinking the Polyjuice Potion and impersonating the Slytherin team's reserve Seeker, and then secured Onoda's victory, Imaizumi's hair had nearly stood on end. Hogwarts had probably never known anything like this in its history, though this Quidditch madness was quickly overshadowed by what happened after the game and the subsequent news.

Manami had had an outburst of accidental magic. It happens to children and teenagers with magical abilities when they give in to their emotions. Such a thing couldn't be too much of an exception, but it was nonetheless because this magic was... unusual.

Not only had this magic destroyed what was actually a huge Quidditch pitch entirely, this magic had nearly taken Onoda's life and he'd been in the infirmary for days.

The Quidditch Cup had been awarded to them. Mr Kanzaki had counted the Gryffindor victory as Onoda had caught the Snitch, and the implicit shove in the back from Manami, even though it might have been considered a rules violation in the opposite situation — a Slytherin victory — had no effect on the judge's final decision.

It's just a mistake, was the opinion of many after the game. Manami had made a mistake. No one believed he could have done it on purpose, only Imaizumi would no longer be surprised if the truth was different after all.

No one on the team discussed the match, even Teshima was silent, even though they all realised that it was hard to consider it a victory. Everyone except... Onoda, maybe? Onoda didn't really care about that question — he had bigger things to worry about, and it would have been fine if it had been nothing more than a magical outburst. But as it turned out, it wasn't just destructive energy that was unleashed — it was real darkness.

And God, they were all lucky that no students were near the Quidditch pitch at that moment.

This whole thing could have ended in casualties. Maybe even death. The students realised this, but no one commented on it, because many trivially couldn't believe it.

“It's Obscurus. There's no doubt about it — I saw it with my own eyes,” Onoda said a few days after the incident, and his shoulders shook like during the most violent tantrum.

An assumption that should never have been confirmed under any scenario was confirmed.

Naruko didn't say a word then. He opened his mouth, closed it, and ran away without warning, while Imaizumi sat on the chair beside Onoda's bed in the Hospital Wing, staring blankly at the floor. Because—

This kind of thing just didn't fit into his picture of the world. He couldn't understand, couldn't explain to himself how what had happened could have happened, but here was a fourteen year old teenage wizard suppressing his magic and it had turned to Obscurus. And what, pray tell, were they all supposed to do about it?

Onoda seemed to have lost hope, Naruko remained silent, not wanting to bring it up again, and things only got worse again because each of them knew full well that Obscurus was killing its host. Slowly but surely.

Added to all this was the approaching exams — the end of the school year was near, and as Imaizumi distracted himself from the depressed look of his friends, he involuntarily caught himself thinking that their House might win the School Cup.

While Onoda visited St Mungo's to see Manami, Imaizumi pushed himself to study with all his might because he felt he wouldn't be able to stand it if he gave in to the endless anxiety his friends were experiencing.

It wasn't until June that the general mood improved slightly. Naruko became more cheerful, started smiling again, even, if rarely, making up new teases. It was hardly out of humility, but he seemed to have finally realised that if he didn't do something about it, the three of them would simply wither away. Slowly — like flowers without water.

Imaizumi was grateful to him even if he didn't say it out loud, and he could begin to hope that sooner or later things would somehow get better and the problem with the system malfunction would be resolved, but soon Onoda (who besides happened to be a half-blood hiding his origins) dared to tell them about something even crazier than an almost adult Obscurial. Imaizumi had spent the entire first week of the holidays in the home library, going through old books and trying to find any mention of such a phenomenon, but was left with nothing. It seemed that the peculiarities of magical ability had progressed with the times — he really didn't know how to explain it anymore.

It was similar to the abilities of Dementors. Those creatures sucked the positive emotions out of people, along with taking their life energy, but Onoda certainly hardly resembled a monster. Nevertheless, he was convinced that he could somehow inexplicably absorb other people's magic.

How fortunate it all worked out, right? A guy who suppressed his abilities, and a guy who could let them out by letting them pass through him.

Imaizumi didn't even believe it at first, trying to find fault in all of this, but by the end of June he had no doubts left either — he'd personally seen how bad Onoda had felt, personally seen how Onoda had increased the power of his own spells after... what? Adapted the magic he'd absorbed from Manami to himself?

It sounded like complete madness.

Both of these cases were so unique and unthinkable that it made his head spin. Born into a pure-blooded mage family, surrounded by magic from childhood, learning the basics of magic almost from the time he was a baby, Imaizumi had never imagined that this world and the incidents that occurred in it would amaze him so much.

He wanted to understand everything in detail, but had no idea how, and when there was enough free time to think about other things as well, he recognised that Naruko had distanced himself from him again because of this turmoil. After that kiss (which Imaizumi couldn't think of without sweet pain) the day Naruko had utterly foolishly and recklessly poisoned himself, there had been nothing. Not even a pathetic fleeting hug. He hadn't even managed to hold his hand once, though Imaizumi sincerely wanted to. Almost every day.

At a time like this, when the worst of the worst calamities had struck, Imaizumi longed for moments when the world around him would dissolve away, leaving just the two of them, like a saving sip of water, but he couldn't pull off anything even close to that — Naruko was definitely not in the mood for it. And sometimes it was very frustrating that Imaizumi basically couldn't take all of his worries and anxieties and chase them away for even a couple of minutes.

Thinking about it, he wondered again and again how much he meant to Naruko at all. What place he had in his life. They'd never talked so openly about such things — they both wouldn't bear the awkwardness of such conversations, and Naruko would have laughed at Imaizumi if he'd tried to find out. So the only thing left to do was guess?

Imaizumi, to be honest, didn't consider himself a particularly optimistic person. Especially when it came to Naruko. One could almost never say anything definite about him, except for a few things.

Naruko loved Quidditch. He loved standing out and getting attention. Being the best. He loved Onoda in his own way, worried about Manami, but what next? What was there to say when it came to him — Imaizumi?

It was even scary to think about.

All Imaizumi knew was that Naruko liked him, that Naruko didn't (hadn't) mind cuddling or flirting with him sometimes, but how serious was all that? Were his feelings similar to Imaizumi's when considered in detail? Hadn't they already faded away?

Sometimes Imaizumi felt like he was going crazy, but even more maddening was the realisation that for Naruko, perhaps it was all... nothing more than a game? Was Naruko even thinking about the consequences the way Imaizumi was thinking?

And if just asking about it wasn't an option, then what was there left to do?

In fact, it's a good thing we're back to the way things were, Imaizumi caught himself thinking and immediately felt a lump rise in his throat. No matter how much he tried to fool himself, he realised all too well that he didn't wish, indeed feared, that this was all over for good.

It was too soon. It was so early for this. Please. Please let me go crazy with this feeling just a little longer. I need it so badly.

At the beginning of the third week of the holidays, Imaizumi was almost ready to climb the walls because he was starting to miss him. He missed him so much — almost to the point of an unbearable urge to grab his broom and fly straight to Naruko's house.

It was easier to use the Floo Network, of course, but could he do that? To come uninvited and without adequate reason, exposing himself and humiliating himself.

Here, look. I can't live without you. Take and do what you want with me now.

His agony was replaced with new ones when, at the end of July, his parents reminded him over breakfast that guests were coming tomorrow. Imaizumi nearly dropped his fork — he'd forgotten to think about it, and he also didn't want it. He really didn't want it, because it meant one unpleasant thing.

The cause of that unpleasant thing was standing in front of him the next evening, smiling politely and rubbing a small purse in her dainty hands. A girl. The daughter of wealthy pureblood wizards who had come here from Bulgaria. Her parents had long maintained a connection with them, the nature of which didn't need to be guessed at for long.

Imaizumi tried to squeeze out the same smile in response though panic was gripping him.

“I'm Milena,” the girl introduced herself, holding out her lace gloved hand. “It's nice to meet you.”

“Shunsuke,” Imaizumi replied, trying to behave himself and gently squeezing the fragile fingers that seemed like they might break from one careless movement.

He had to dine in the company of this family, which he disliked almost as much as any other pureblood noble because he could easily hear another negative comment about the middle class, half-bloods, or Muggles. It was torture to bear it, considering that his best friends were exactly the kind of people who were automatically belittled at this table.

Afterwards, Imaizumi wanted only one thing: To lock himself in his room and not come out of there until at least the start of the new school year. But no. His father said that the guests would be staying with them for a week and a half and hinted too opaquely that Milena shouldn't get bored here.

Gritting his teeth, Imaizumi accepted his fate, mentally reassured that this would soon be over, and tried to do his best to make sure his parents wouldn't dare reproach him for his inappropriate attitude. And so wanted to be infected by Naruko's ability to put on a mask and play to the audience. Everything would be easier if Imaizumi knew how to do that. But he had to stroll with his guest through the garden behind the house or play chess with her in a sombre mood.

Milena, unlike him, was holding herself perfectly. Or maybe she actually enjoyed his company — Imaizumi couldn't claim that, but he still often encountered her soft smile. He was certain of only one thing: She didn't understand anything. And if she did, she couldn't do anything about it, because even he, a guy, couldn't find the courage to break out of that circle. They were teenagers. And at the same time such helpless children. Nobody without their parents.

When Imaizumi returned to his room after another exhausting day, he could barely feel his legs from fatigue: He and Milena had to walk all day along Diagon Alley, and almost the only thing he did was looking around, hoping not to see any familiar faces from school in the crowd. It was silly, of course, but he really didn't want any embarrassing rumours to surface next year that his caring parents had already picked a bride for him.

Hardly anyone did that nowadays. Only families like his family, obsessed with blood purity. And that made Imaizumi want to sink into the ground.

He closed the door behind him, threw his robe, which was hot, on the back of the nearest chair, and then threw open the window, not worrying about catching a chill from the north wind.

Counting on the rest of the evening to be spent alone, Imaizumi went to take a shower, but when he returned, on the sill of the open window was a plump owl with a dark plumage he couldn't mistake for anything else — Naruko had sent him a stupid prank gift last summer with the same owl. There was no doubt that it was from him again. Apparently with a reply to that letter Imaizumi had sent a couple of weeks ago.

Walking over to the window, Imaizumi threw the wet towel from his head onto his neck and untied the envelope attached to the bird's foot. His hands were trembling. This realisation almost made him laugh, and he glanced up at the clouds building up in the sky — it looked like there would be a thunderstorm during the night.

Eager to open the letter from Naruko faster while simultaneously torn by the conflicting urge to never read it, Imaizumi made his way to the large desk and bent down to open the bottom drawer. He kept a packet of owl treats for such occasions when an owl arrived with a letter (usually it concerned Onoda's owl).

Having treated the winged guest to food, he went back and sat down at the desk, wiping his hair again. Weighing the brown envelope in the palm of his hand, Imaizumi thought there were two or three sheets inside, then brought it up to his face, sucking in the scent. This own action seemed ridiculous to him — what was he trying to smell in there? Still, he caught the very faint scent of baked goods, and decided that it was probably the cosiest smell for a letter from Naruko.

Imaizumi unsealed the envelope and took out several folded sheets of paper, which appeared to be written in Naruko's sloppy handwriting. He began without a greeting. And with an indignation that could be felt even through the letters on the paper...

No, are you serious, Hotshot? This is really happening and you're mocking me, aren't you? TWO MEASLY PARAGRAPHS! You couldn't even fill one page and I just refuse to believe it! A person who writes ten thousand word essays every time that even professors get tired of reading can't write a proper letter?

I just conclude that you've completely lost your sense of responsibility.

Okay, I'm kidding and I'm not forcing you to write a lot — it's nice to get even a short message from you. BUT DON'T START THINKING I'M GONNA DIE WITHOUT YOUR LETTERS, OKAY? I actually have no time to be bored here — my sister has arrived and while she's home, my mom makes me help in her café almost every day. I'm sooo tired, to be honest. It's like I don't have other things to do. Although if I stutter about it, she reminds me of my exam grades again!

By the way, did you get a letter from Sakamichi? His owl flew in to see me the other day, and he told me such a killer story! I think he's very lucky that he lives in London, the same city where St Mungo's Hospital is. He goes there every day even though he's not allowed to see Manami that often, but can you imagine how he gets there! You wouldn't believe it! He sent me a drawing, and I thought I just had to draw you one too, so you could understand. It's called

WAIT — I have to look at it again, I've forgotten. Aha! There! A bicycle! It's a Muggle mobility thingy! Look on the next page — I drew it!

Imaizumi pushed aside the first sheet to see what was on the second. With slight confusion, he turned the page to see what angle to look at, but then returned it to the way it was and bit his lip thoughtfully. This two-wheeled invention was bizarre to him, but he seemed to understand how it worked. It had a special part to sit on, and a special part to hold on to with your hands. An interesting mechanism at the bottom seemed to drive the rear wheel. The drawing was crude, of course, but for some reason it brought an involuntary smile to his face.

Turning back to the first page, Imaizumi continued reading.

Sakamichi had written that it moved by leg power, and I immediately thought it was a good way to keep in shape before Quidditch practice started. I mean, he can't fly on a broomstick during the summer.

Manami hasn't got any improvement yet, and time is running out, I don't know what to count on. How do you think this summer will end? I'd hate for him to just be isolated, making him the responsibility of the Ministry of Magic.

It's so unfair! He's just a guy who should be in school. Go to classes like everyone else.

Imaizumi sighed, flipping the sheet backwards. A greasy smudge of fallen ink was left on top, followed by a completely crossed out sentence that was now indecipherable.

Am I talking about him too much for someone who's only ever tried to hurt him or separate him from Sakamichi before? Seems idiotic, I guess — sorry about that. Some things can't just be fixed, and I'm trying to keep that in mind.

As for closer relatives — I've already mentioned that my mom makes me help her. Because of that, I don't have any time for Shin at all! I actually promised him that I'd spend all summer teaching him how to fly, and in the end we only did it three times! But you know, he's good at it. If he practises a little more, he might be the best in his first year at school!

I can't wait to go to Diagon Alley to buy him things for school! He's already got his letter and we'll be able to study together very soon! I'm sure he'll be sorted into Gryffydor, and he'll have a shot at the Quidditch tryouts in his second year! Imagine how great it would be if we could play on the same team!

Speaking of which, who do you think Teshima will appoint as captain at the end of the next year? I certainly don't want to get ahead of myself and talk about Teshima like he's on his way out now, but I still can't help but think about it.

Imaizumi could practically see Naruko laughing as he wrote those lines.

I know how he thinks — he'll probably pick you, and you'll have to come up with all sorts of boring training plans and keep up with the organisation! How are you going to handle the newbies, future captain? I bet you can't do without my help, can you? Of course, you won't have any problems with the technical part — I'm sure, but with the rest — yeah! I hope you don't screw up too badly. And don't get mad — I'm trying to support you now, and—

I have an idea. I think it's gonna be really cool this time. We're gonna try my new Bludger trick at the first practice. I'll make it so no one can get in your way when you're running the Quaffle, not even the Keeper!

But wait to rejoice — I won't tell you the details, you'll see for yourself later. Let it be an INTRIGUE, okay?

I'm going to end it here because my mom is calling me again and honestly, I already want to die, but I won't do it until you and I win the next Cup. SO get ready to be awesome in the new year!

Your adorable and inimitable Shokichi Naruko!

A creature very much resembling a dragon was drawn near the signature. It was in Naruko's spirit to do something like that, and Imaizumi smiled again as he tilted the sheet, the crooked dragon coloured in red crayon beginning to shimmer with a pearlescent hue. How much energy and warmth was in that simple letter. From reading it, Imaizumi completely forgot about all the unpleasant aspects of his last few days, and his mood jumped upwards.

He laid the sheets on the tabletop almost fondly, smoothing them out, running his fingers over the jagged letters as if trying to feel Naruko himself through them.

Right now, he wanted to see him unbearably badly. Imaizumi even thought about the fireplace again but pulled himself back and mentally called himself a wimp. If he'd been a little bolder and more persistent— He and Naruko could have seen each other during the summer. He'd run over to his place, secretly from his parents. They could chat or do something else. It would be so nice. Sure it would.

Losing his smile, Imaizumi picked up the sheets of writing and clutched them tightly in his fingers. He didn't notice it right away, but the back of the last sheet was different. It felt strange to the touch, as if it was slightly embossed. Imaizumi turned the page and looked at the blank white space. Blank?

Running his fingers over the paper once more, he thought for a couple of seconds, then pulled out the top drawer and started rummaging through things. Among the various writing utensils, he finally found the Revealer he'd bought in Diagon Alley before his first year. Imaizumi picked it up, hesitantly brought it to the page, and rubbed the top. Words began to appear! He worked harder, but he was careful not to accidentally tear the paper. Naruko, it turned out, had left him another message, for some reason he hadn't decided to write it like the rest of the text, but the reason soon became clear.

Imaizumi shuddered as he read a few of the inscriptions. He began rubbing the Revealer over the paper and beyond until he reached the end of the page, and then leaned back in his chair, feeling the wind from the window chill the bare skin of his arms.

'I miss you,' was what was hidden on the back. 'I miss you.' Written fifty times or more.

Imaizumi's heart fluttered and he felt like moaning. It thrilled him to the core. And it made it hurt so much.

As he got up to close the window, behind which a fine rain was already beginning to fall, he left the owl in his room, expecting to write a reply today or tomorrow, but would he be able to? Would he be able to do it now? He had so many things he wanted to say to Naruko but wouldn't say, God.

How could he?

Dropping his towel on a chair, Imaizumi climbed into the huge bed that was too much of a contrast to his sleeping space in Gryffindor Tower. He tried to fall asleep without thinking about anything, but the rain outside the window was getting heavier and the noise of it made him want to plug his ears.

He only passed out for a few hours — when he woke up, it was pitch black outside the window, and Naruko's owl was snoozing peacefully on the back of a chair, its plumage almost black under the faint light of the desk lamp.

His head ached. Imaizumi rolled over onto his back, tried to sleep again but realised his throat was dry. He was thirsty and soon found his stomach rumbling with hunger as well. That's right — he'd had an early dinner tonight.

He pushed the blanket aside and sat up, rubbing his sleepy eyes and fixing his mussed hair. He could have called a house-elf and ordered a snack for himself, but Imaizumi didn't — he decided to walk to the kitchen (he didn't want to see anyone, to be honest).

So he threw on his dressing gown, yawned widely, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes, and strode to the door.

The corridor was gloomy and even frightening today — as he stepped outside, lightning flashed so brightly that he shivered. A few seconds later, there was an almost deafening clap of thunder — Imaizumi was already heading for the stairs, but suddenly he heard something else. The noise of a thunderstorm could well drown out this sound, but still it was too obvious to go unnoticed. It came from the neighbouring corridor. Something like a thump, as if a heavy thing had fallen to the floor, and then a muffled squeak. Imaizumi was just passing by and was soundly surprised when he turned his head and saw Milena rising to her feet.

She was in huge light coloured pyjamas and confused, and when she noticed him she was immediately embarrassed, realising that he had seen though not the fall itself but the way she was getting up.

“What are you doing?” Imaizumi asked in mild amazement.

“I— um—” the girl mumbled. “I couldn't sleep, and then the thunder startled me, and I accidentally tripped on my trouser leg...”

“Ah, yes, a night of nightmares,” Imaizumi nodded in agreement. “Were you going for a walk?”

Milena seemed seriously disturbed that he had seen her in such an inappropriate manner, and she brought her hands together in front of her and began to tug at her long sleeves. Imaizumi shrugged involuntarily, trying to figure out if he should feel awkward about it.

“I wanted to go down to the kitchen,” Milena explained. “I didn't want to disturb your house-elves at this late hour, but I'm a little... hungry.”

“Yeah,” Imaizumi smiled slightly. “Dinner was early. I'm hungry too.”

Milena smiled back weakly, accepting the silent offer.

Not that Imaizumi was happy about his unexpected companion, but they walked down to the ground floor and reached the kitchen. Milena flinched every time thunder rumbled outside the house, and she seemed to be getting a chill — she sniffled, wrapping her arms around her elbows.

“You don't happen to have a cold, do you? Maybe the second scoop of ice cream was unnecessary?” while waiting for the water for tea to boil, Imaizumi asked, deciding that he should at least do it out of politeness, but the feeling of indifference was almost disgusting.

“It's fine,” Milena laughed awkwardly, taking a seat at the large empty table. “I think it'll feel better if I have something hot to drink.”

Imaizumi nodded and pulled out two mugs. He had to spend some time making tea and choosing biscuits, checking the cupboards — it turned out the kitchen was a veritable warehouse of all sorts of foodstuffs. Milena waited patiently and silently and then thanked him quietly when he placed the mug of aromatic hot drink in front of her.

“I don't know much about it, but I added mint and honey,” he said, then walked round the corner, sat down at the table and took a sip from his mug. It seemed to be good.

“I'm sorry you have to worry about me. The tea is great,” Milena replied, not even touching the mug yet, and reached for the bowl of biscuits that Imaizumi had put in it. “You probably can't wait for me and my parents to finally leave.”

Imaizumi was almost taken aback by such a direct statement. Actually, the statement was very true, but he definitely didn't expect to hear it today.

“No, it's fine,” he lied. In recent days, lying had become as familiar to him as his name.

“You don't have to say that at all — I really want to go back home too,” Milena grinned and showed her tongue for a second before lifting the mug to her and taking the first sip. “It's not easy playing a new role.”

Imaizumi lowered his gaze confusedly.

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

“You know,” Milena continued, after eating one biscuit, “in all this days, you've barely talked about your life at school. We've discussed politics, history, our bloodlines, even Quidditch, but you've never said a word about yourself. You have people at Hogwarts who are important to you, don't you? Friends...”

“Yes, of course,” Imaizumi nodded. “But this must be... personal?”

“That much?” Milena asked and smiled. “I see. I think I understand you. There are some things you wouldn't tell someone you barely know. Neither would I... Though I'm probably more open.”

She sighed quietly and sipped from her mug again.

Imaizumi said nothing to that, glancing towards the large cooker he had lit lamps on either side of it.

“I think we're similar, Shunsuke,” Milena suddenly spoke again, before hesitating for a few seconds. “There's a person at my school... A young man. He's not from a wealthy family, and his family tree contains Muggles. I've never considered that fact to be anything really significant. I like this man very much, but of course I can't even tell my parents about it.”

“Why?” Imaizumi asked, causing her to be briefly confused.

But Milena smiled again, now sadly.

“I think— we're similar in that too. Maybe,” she answered and quickly jumped off the subject. “My mom— she told me once. She didn't want to marry my father, but still— she accepted it. Because she didn't dare to cross her parents. Because it was her duty. Even if I wanted to break free from that chain, I would— maybe find happiness. But would that be fair? Why should I be the only one to live the life I want?”

“I see,” Imaizumi said, looking towards the cooker again. “So you think it's right to choose the path of a martyr? Living for yourself is just like a sin or something?”

“It's not selfishness, at least.”

What difference does it make? Imaizumi thought to himself. In a situation like this, someone will always turn out to be selfish. Either you or your parents.

In his case, there were selfish people on both sides. It's just that one of them was also a coward.

“Sometimes you have to sacrifice your true feelings to make someone happy,” Milena added, and Imaizumi still looked at her. She tilted her head slightly over the mug in which the tea was cooling, her chocolate-coloured long curls falling over her chest.

Good girl. An exemplary daughter. The perfect child for pureblood parents.

For a moment, Imaizumi thought his life would be many times easier if he were the same, but Milena was wrong. They had nothing in common. Because he hated humility. Because he was willing to hate even his own parents because of their pressures and outlook on life. Because they couldn't let him live the life he wanted.

“That's not true,” Imaizumi objected quietly. “I will never agree with that, because nothing is worth sacrificing my true feelings. I'd rather die for them. Or live together with them forever.”

Milena couldn't think of what to say to that. Only looked almost frightened, and Imaizumi rose from his seat. He went to the sink to pour out the tea, but his thirst was still not gone.

So he emptied the mug, set it down, and left without another word. And what could he have added? He explained his position. He would never accept it; even if it doomed him to endless pain, but he had feelings. A feeling he was going to hold on to for the rest of his life, it seemed. Because what else was more important than that? Was anything more important than the dream of giving into his desires?

Back in his room, Imaizumi closed the door tightly behind him. He lay in bed again, but sleep could hardly come now. Not when everything inside felt like it was boiling. With regret, with contempt.

The mattress felt hard, the pillow uncomfortable. Standing up from the bed, Imaizumi walked straight to the window, where the rain was still pouring down, and pressed his forehead against the cold glass for a few seconds, hoping to calm down a little.

Pulling back, he dropped his gaze to his desk where Naruko's letter still lay, tucked back into its envelope. Remembering its, as always, chaotic contents, Imaizumi still couldn't stand it. Pulling back the chair, nearly scaring away the sleeping owl, he sat down and pulled out a piece of parchment.

As he took the quill and prepared to write, he hesitated, gripping the tip tighter in his fingers — he shouldn't be doing this. Definitely not.

Nevertheless, he took a concentrated breath. He dipped the quill into the inkwell and began to write the first words.

You know, Naruko, you'd better not reproach me for the brevity of my letters. Because if I let myself go and write what I think, I'll condemn myself to a burden of responsibility that I simply can't bear.

And I'm insanely tired of not being able to find the strength to take that responsibility. To tell. To tear myself to pieces and put a little piece of myself into each word.

How much I wish I could tell you.

How much I'd like to hear from you in return.

If it's just a game, I accept defeat at once. I don't know how I can bear it if it doesn't have the same seriousness to you as it does to me.

It's like it's driving you crazy. Without the possibility of a break.

I remember how you were in first year when we first met. How annoying and insufferable. I remember how you are now. I remember the moment I saw you differently. A new side of you. Opened my eyes. You made me open my eyes. And I fell. I went down in that instant. Without stopping, with no way to stop. This abyss has no bottom. I'll keep falling forever. They say that if you can't complete something, it will never let you go.

So it is. YOU'll never let me go. I will greedily seek your gaze forever. I'll dream of running my hands through your hair. I'll yearn to feel your lips. So much so that I'd swear I wouldn't dare touch anyone else in a kiss. So please, don't you dare. Don't you dare disappear.

Give me the answers I long to hear. Tell me you feel the same. Tell me that what we called sympathy in February is blowing your mind. Tell me you want the whole world to disappear with its silly obstacles and complications because I'm. I'm the only one that makes sense to you.

Forget about everyone else. Just for one measly second, but give all of yourself to just me because I just won't be able to take no for an answer.

It sounds lame, but all I want to do is run away. I want to believe in this stupid dream that we can do it together. If you just say yes. If you admit that this is all as important to you as it is to me, I'm sure I'll find my courage. I'll have everything I've been missing. And we'll run away. From everything, from everyone. Far away from here. We'll change our names, change our appearance. We'll become different people and live in a place where it doesn't matter who we are. We'll be free.

Almost beggars, maybe. Pathetic, but that will be us.

It's such a beautiful fantasy that my hands just shake. With fear. The realisation that this could all happen. That we can make this choice. Putting aside doubt, pride, fears, and anything else that gets in our way.

What do you think of this dream, Naruko? You want to be with the guy who gave up everything to find you? But don't answer lightly. Because if you say yes, I won't let you go anywhere. I'll make you mine, only mine because I'm the ultimate selfish man who wants you all to himself. I'll take everything. Your smile, your laugh. Your soul, your body. And I'll hide it from the world because the world is not worthy of someone like you.

And even if it remains just a dream, even if I ever admit it's terribly stupid and pointless, I won't give it up.

Because I am, God, so in love with you. I'm in love with your every feature, your every gesture. Your idiotic comments or jokes. I'd watch forever, even if it was the only thing I was given.

So give me yourself, Naruko. Allow me all the things I can't allow myself.

Make me kiss you every day. Make me do it on a dare. Make me squeeze your palms, hot like a fire that will burn me to the ground to revive me because that's what you always do to me.

Abruptly stopping himself, Imaizumi pulled back in horror, pressing his back into the chair. The quill fell out of his hand, and he realised that he had lost his temper. He had to stop. Stop this nightmare because otherwise it would just kill him.

Naruko wasn't supposed to read a line of this letter.

And even though Imaizumi would give anything for his thoughts to be true, he couldn't allow what was sure to happen if he sent such a letter.

If suddenly... Naruko was just as much in love with him, giving him hope that might never come true would be the height of cruelty.

In his thoughts, Imaizumi could imagine gaining omnipotence, but in reality— Reality was different. In reality, he couldn't even take the first step onto that road. To risk finding out what would happen if he went against his parents' will. It could cost him dearly. Too dearly. And for some reason, thinking about the negative options was much easier.

I should give myself more time, Imaizumi decided, smiling weakly.

If you're as much in love with me as I am, will you wait?

Taking his wand out of the drawer, he channelled magic into it with a sinking heart to lift the parchment written in intermittent handwriting into the air and burn it.

“Incendio,” came the same unsteady whisper in the silence of the room. Imaizumi didn't notice the rain outside had stopped.

The parchment burned slowly. One sentence after another. Imaizumi stared at it through the pain, then brushed the black weightless flakes off the tabletop.

If you're in love with me as I am.

Saying the phrase to himself, he convulsively sucked in air with his nose and shuddered at his own powerlessness, which only got bigger.

Imaizumi rarely cried. And he didn't want to let himself do that now, but he couldn't resist. He just folded his hands on the table and buried his face in them, trying not to howl at least. Though the need to do so was unbearably strong.

As was the need to finally release all that he had stored inside his heart.

Despite this, Imaizumi never wrote another letter until the end of the summer.

Chapter Text

The atmosphere in the spacious interior of the car was tense. Two of the passengers remained silent, and only the driver was emotionally ranting about the skyrocketing petrol prices, though he stopped talking after fifteen minutes as well, apparently realising that no one cared about his suffering. Imaizumi didn't even notice that it was quiet, continuing to stare emotionlessly out the window. A traffic jam had formed on the road.

In fact, their journeys to London's King's Cross Station had been like this before. Dad's assistant from the Ministry had ordered a Muggle taxi for them so that the Imaizumi family could get to the station comfortably after arriving at the Leaky Cauldron. Talking too much was not allowed, so everyone preferred to keep quiet or talk only about business.

But father wasn't with them today. He preferred to see his son off on the Hogwarts Express every time, but now only his mother was in the backseat, and the tension in her every gesture was palpable.

Imaizumi didn't want to think about the reason for everything that was happening, but he couldn't forget it — they all had to go through too much stress, and it was all because of him, of course. Because he was the flaw in their family. An ugly scar on a perfect face that nothing could hide.

The last two days before leaving back to school had been the worst of the entire summer. First the dinner that he — yes — Imaizumi had ruined. Then the argument with his parents in the background of it. The next day, the conflict repeated itself, taking on even more devastating consequences. Imaizumi hadn't been able to get a proper night's sleep, and now he looked sore and exhausted.

If he had known in advance what he would have to endure, he would never have opened his mouth.

To say in front of the guests, respectable people, that he was going to take charge of his own life in the future and to decide with whom he would form ties (primarily, of course, that consisted in his unwillingness to marry) — God, it was such a stupid thing to do. Nevertheless, the guests hardly took his words seriously: An elderly and stately man, the Head of the International Magical Office of Law, grinned restrainedly, trying to hide his smile behind a glass of wine; his young twenty-five-year-old son raised an eyebrow questioningly and continued his meal as if nothing had happened.

Except that the situation did not escape the parents' attention. They made an uproar.

It was the first time Imaizumi had ever seen his father raise his tone like that, and the first time his mother had ever trembled like that, biting her lip and trying not to cry.

Their own son not respecting their choice (which they thought was undoubtedly the best), not responding with gratitude and submission. Could there be a greater tragedy?

“We have matched you with an amazing bride! With an impeccable reputation and origin!” his father spoke of Milena as if she were a wardrobe item. An expensive robe of superb cut.

Imaizumi's hair almost stood on end when he heard that and realised that he would definitely not be able to escape this horror. The whole thing was a terrifying absurdity that only evoked one desire. To escape. To escape as far away as possible because if being a member of a wealthy pureblood family obliged him to live and act in such a way, Imaizumi would accept the life of a penniless half-blood wizard or a Muggle in general.

Such a thought did arise in his mind, until it, too, startled him.

Thinking about it on the night of the first of September, Imaizumi couldn't get the old book about two feuding families whose children fell in love with each other and ruined each other with their own love out of his head. As a child, the daughter of his parents' acquaintance had thrown it in the rubbish, arguing that she had learnt that a Muggle had written the story. Imaizumi had taken an interest and, when no one was around to see, pulled the book out of the bucket, cleaned it, dried it, and read it. The language was a little difficult to understand, but the gist of it was grasped.

After reading it, the book was hidden away — Imaizumi had forgotten about it because he was too young to draw complex parallels, and, of course, he hadn't realised that his parents would choose a bride for him in the future, but now the associations were before his eyes. And all that would be all right, except that the book was written in the sixteenth century, and now it was the twenty-first. Nevertheless, this did not prevent him from understanding the feelings of the heroine, who was deprived of a choice by her own parents, who were ready to abandon her, to throw her out of the house, out of the family, if she dared to disobey.

So was he a favourite child for his parents, or was he still only a means for the continuation of a noble family with a high status in society?

When he and his mother crossed the barrier between the platforms, she rose on her toes to reach up and kiss his cheek, as she sometimes did, but changed her mind and just stroked the hair behind his ear, shyly wishing him good luck for the new school year.

Imaizumi exhaled a sigh of relief when she left, and made his way through the crowd of students and seeing-offs to the baggage carriage. He left his suitcase and packed racing broom there and then wandered to the previous carriage, hardly noticing the reality around him. His head ached, and a nasty lump stood in his throat, ready to provoke an urge to vomit. Because of all this, it took a long time to hear the voice calling him.

But when Imaizumi came back to his senses and focused his gaze in front of him, he saw Onoda rushing towards him with an excited smile and a cage where his owl was sitting and gnawing indignantly at the bars.

“At least you're finally here. I've taken an empty compartment for us!”

Imaizumi blinked in surprise, almost unable to believe his eyes. Was it really Onoda? He was... smiling like nothing had happened. It was as if the world had managed to turn upside down again in one summer holiday. What the hell happened?

“Come on!” Onoda called after him, grabbing Sleepy's cage more comfortably. “We have to watch the place until Naruko gets here.”

Imaizumi went, barely understanding why his friend had changed so much since their last meeting. Soon they were in the next carriage, pushed between the other students, and Onoda opened the door of the penultimate compartment where he had left his suitcase of belongings.

“Great. Are you going to look for Naruko or should I go?”

Imaizumi couldn't find anything to answer, feeling unable to snap out of his trance. But Naruko... God, how could he forget that he would meet Naruko here?

With everything that had piled up in the last few days, his mind was in complete chaos. Imaizumi had forgotten that returning to Hogwarts didn't just mean the start of a new term. It also meant a return to the bright red...

The bright red that drove him crazy. The one that was the root cause of everything. The banner that symbolises the desire for freedom of choice.

And they will see each other soon. They must see each other. Realising this fully only now, Imaizumi felt a wave of shivers run down his back. His head ached more. It spun. Oh shit, he was not prepared for this. Absolutely, bloody unprepared.

“Hey, Shunsuke?” Onoda asked with obvious concern. “What's wrong? You're acting strange.”

There was a look of concern in his large eyes. Noticing it, Imaizumi tried to pull himself together, though he failed.

“Er— sorry. I just didn't sleep well today.” The excuse was pathetic and stupid.

But before he could add anything else to make it convincing, a loud shriek was almost deafening... Something small but strong came at them both from behind — Imaizumi felt a hand on his back, and at the same moment Naruko's head appeared between him and Onoda.

Oh yes, he was already here. There was no point in looking.

“I finally found you guys! What the hell were you two doing hiding from me?” Naruko laughed loudly and cheerfully, withdrawing his palm to clap Imaizumi on the back. With his other hand he squeezed Onoda's shoulder and reached over to the cage to greet Sleepy as well. “Hey, I still remember what you did to my pencil before you flew away! It was the only one I had, you know!”

“What?” Onoda squeaked, wriggling out of the half hug. “Don't tell me she chewed something off of yours.”

“Turned into small splinters!” Naruko laughed again, waving his arms emotionally.

“I'm sorry! I promise to bring you a whole box of pencils after Christmas!” Onoda fussily apologised, then gave Sleepy a stern look, and she hooted at him in response to that look.

Imaizumi was silent. He just stared at them and felt almost a choking attack. This was all familiar. Habitual. Every time the first of September had started this way, but now... Imaizumi felt like his heart was turning into a heavy stone. Naruko raised his head to meet his gaze, squinted slightly and bit his lip.

It was as if he was mentally saying, hey, you don't look too happy to see me, do you, Hotshot? Imaizumi tried to avert his eyes because the nausea from the excitement only got worse. And God, his heart was pounding like it wanted to burst through his chest.

“By the way,” Naruko said contentedly, taking a step to the side and pointing his palm at someone behind him. “Since you're both here, I should introduce you!”

Imaizumi remembered one more important thing... There would be one more student with the last name Naruko at Hogwarts this year.

“These are my best friends, Sakamichi and Shunsuke, memorise them,” Naruko said sternly to his brother, then chuckled awkwardly and ruffled his hair, which was not red at all but a normal natural colour. Otherwise, he resembled his older brother in appearance quite a bit. And not just in appearance, as Imaizumi became convinced a little later. “He's Shingo. I already told you about him,” Naruko added, almost glowing with smugness, and Onoda said hello with a friendly smile.

“Hi Shingo, I'm glad I could finally see you.”

The boy smiled weakly at him, after which he looked at Imaizumi, raising his head, and... shuddered.

“Woah... Is he a senior student?”

“Pfft, no!” Naruko snorted, waving his palm. “He's just—”

“Huge,” Shingo said enthusiastically, almost jumping up on the spot. “Just like a TV TOWER! Right, Shou?”

Imaizumi felt his eyebrow twitch nervously. It was as if the past came back for him.

“What the fuck is this? Is it a family thing or something?”

Shingo bit his lip in confusion, and Naruko was embarrassed, taking the cat from his hands to the awkward and quiet laughter of Onoda.

“Okay, let's get in already — we're standing in the aisle, getting in the way.”

Once all the compartments were occupied and the train was moving smoothly, Imaizumi felt a little calmer. No, he still wanted to drink the headache potion, and he still felt a little anxious, but the familiar company of his friends cheered him up.

Shingo was restless and cheerful like his older brother. His excitement about his first trip to wizard's school was practically transmitted through the air. He asked Onoda nonstop about the Muggle world, video games and smartphones while Naruko inserted his comments. Imaizumi kept his mouth shut and just watched, which turned out to be a surprisingly enjoyable activity for him.

After a couple of hours on the road, he bought treats for the whole company from the trolley, but he didn't eat any himself. It turned out that Shingo was crazy about the Cauldron Cakes: He could eat several at a time without drinking, which was similar to Naruko's own behaviour. How they managed to eat so much and stay so small was anyone's guess.

“You have the best friends, Shou!” Shingo marvelled a little later, wiping crumbs from his cheeks with his hand. “One knows everything about the Muggle world, and the other is super rich and bought my favourite sweets!”

Actually, that last description sounded a little insensitive, but Imaizumi ignored that point and just smiled weakly back because he... really liked Naruko's brother. Such a blob of inexhaustible positive energy. An adorable kid who was sure to make a lot of friends at Hogwarts.

“Yeah. They're the best. I'm telling you,” Naruko agreed embarrassedly, and then they were interrupted by an apologetic knock.

The door opened and Teshima peeked into the compartment with a smile.

“I recognised you from the noise. Long time no see.”

Everyone greeted him almost in unison, and Naruko didn't skimp on another brief introduction.

“If you work hard, you'll definitely make the team next year,” Teshima smiled when Shingo excitedly announced that he wanted to play Quidditch too. “Listen, Shunsuke, I need you. Would you come out for a word?”

Imaizumi was surprised at such an unexpected request, but he quickly regained his calm expression and rose from his seat. He closed the door behind him as he left, and he and Teshima moved to the back of the carriage, where no one was there to interrupt their conversation.

“Was there something urgent?” Imaizumi asked, and Teshima blinked in amazement as he looked at him.

“Oh... you don't look so good. Having trouble sleeping?” he remarked.

Imaizumi awkwardly looked away.

“No. I'm fine. I just had a fun holiday. Anyway, what's up with you?”

“It's too early for that,” Teshima began distantly, turning to lean his back against the window and folding his arms across his chest. “But I still thought I'd ask you beforehand... You see, this is my last year of school. Next year, you'll have to manage on your own. To get some new players on the team. The lineup's definitely going to change, and it's going to be one of the big trials.”

“What's your point?” Imaizumi asked, starting to feel nervous. It was as if Teshima could have hinted: Go do something else, Shunsuke, make room for the really good guys.

But instead, Teshima said something completely unexpected.

“I'm going to hand over the part of captain to you.”

“What?” Imaizumi asked, thinking he'd misheard.

“And I wanted to know how you feel about it,” Teshima said, looking at him with a slightly heavier gaze. He was serious. More than serious.

“Um...” Imaizumi was confused. “Why me? Naruko will gladly accept the position — he's sociable, and the team will listen to him.”

“There's no arguing with that,” Teshima grinned, turning his head and looking out the window at the moving landscape. “But I thought long and hard before I made my decision. At first I even wanted to tell you to figure it out for yourself.”

“I don't fit that part,” Imaizumi replied quietly. “I just want to play and bring points to the team.”

“On an intellectual level, you're closer to me,” Teshima said suddenly, his smile fading. “Naruko can bring the team together if he wants to. Onoda could do it even better, but they both lack something important. Coolness and calculation — that's something you excel at. Sometimes it's important to set aside emotions and feelings to make the right decision. You are the one who has the best chance of leading the team to victory, overcoming any difficulties that come along the way. I have confidence in you.”

Imaizumi barely kept himself from chuckling. Cold-blooded and calculating. Was that how he was in other people's eyes? What would Teshima say if Imaizumi were to confess right now how he was stumped, how he was bursting with feelings because he just couldn't release them? Would Teshima say the same things then?

“I'm not at all what you think I am,” Imaizumi responded, lowering his eyes. “I've shown weakness more than once. On the field, too. And I don't always have the courage to make decisions.”

“So do I,” Teshima said, smiling. “I'm not asking you to do the impossible. I'm not asking you to be omnipotent. But about you being the best option for team captain, I won't change my mind. If you do your best, that will be enough.”

“Okay,” Imaizumi said after a short silence. There was still plenty of time before the end of the school year. Things could change. Somebody could show a new side of themselves and interest Teshima. Especially right now, Imaizumi didn't want to think about his possible captaincy in his sixth year. He would have to figure out how to... just survive, not bury himself in his own pain and hatred for all the injustice that had caught up with him.

“Just think about it, okay?” Teshima asked, resting his palm on Imaizumi's shoulder for a few seconds. “I gave you more time on purpose. Sometimes it is necessary.”

Imaizumi could only nod weakly.

Teshima walked away and disappeared into one of the compartments at the front of the carriage, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Everything was piling up in such a bad way. The arguments with his parents, meeting Naruko, this conversation about taking on a very responsible role. Naruko had also managed to bring it up back in the summer, in his letter, as if he'd known beforehand or sensed it. Captain... Did Imaizumi even have the right, with his temperament and experiences, to become the head of the team? What if it was that decision that would lead to him dragging everyone down?

Thinking about it, he felt his fingers tremble and clenched his fists. No, such a question was really best left for a better time. Not now... He certainly couldn't think about it now without eventually coming to the conclusion that the whole thing was a ridiculous and doomed idea.

It was better to distract himself.

So when he returned to the compartment, the first thing he did was to grab an open packet of biscuits and eat a couple of them, fighting his lack of appetite.

“What did Teshima say?” Naruko asked, leafing through the brightly coloured sports magazine in his lap. “Something about Quidditch?”

“Nothing much,” Imaizumi replied, reaching for a bottle of pumpkin juice. “Decided to fill me in on the details of his new... strategy.”

The last word came out almost sarcastically, though Imaizumi honestly didn't mean it to come out that way. Onoda gave him a surprised look but didn't ask anything, and Naruko snorted again.

“I'm telling you, he wants to make you captain! He's already having individual meetings with you!”

Imaizumi only rolled his eyes in response, refusing to comment. He was already feeling sick right now. He didn't want to start a fight with Naruko on the first day of term.

“If you're tired, just sleep, we'll sit quietly,” the latter said, turning to his brother.

Shingo was no longer as active as he had been at the beginning of the trip. He seemed to be exhausted from his own emotions and excitement, and now he was falling asleep sitting up.

Naruko crumpled up one of the robes, hoping to use it as a pillow, and sat down with the magazine on top of his brother's suitcase, finding himself closer to Onoda and Imaizumi.

“If you want too, you can sleep on top of each other,” he said glumly, glancing at them.

“No, it's fine,” Onoda chuckled softly, hugging the cage where Sleepy had been snoozing for a while now, tucking her head under her wing.

Imaizumi waved his hand in response to Naruko's words, hearing the boy fiddling in the seat next to him to get comfortable.

It probably wasn't five minutes later that he passed out and began to sniffle softly, resting one palm on the cat curled up next to him. After making sure he couldn't hear them, Naruko turned back around, closed the magazine and looked at Onoda with a demanding look.

“Smiling, then. Any good news?”

“Mm...” Onoda looked embarrassed, before answering quietly, “Well, you could say that. I've been to the place Manami moved to from the hospital. It's very beautiful there.”

“Beautiful?” Naruko raised his eyebrows in amazement. “What are you talking about?”

“It's a mountainous area. Very much like Hogwarts,” Onoda said. “There's not a living soul around for miles, and the Ministry apparently thinks it's a good option. That way Manami... won't hurt anyone, if anything... But there's no need to worry about that anymore. He's made great strides. He's able to use his wand to cast magic again. He's unleashing magic. If this continues, the Obscurus won't grow further.”

“So... his mental state has changed too? Tending to the original state?” Imaizumi said quietly, listening carefully and mentally processing the new information.

He certainly hadn't expected Manami to be isolated before the beginning of September, but nevertheless this change seemed to have gone in his favour, and was therefore... good? It was hard to think that way about isolation, but in some ways it was better than the hospital. Better than sitting in four walls and shivering at the possibility of hurting people who just happened to be in the neighbourhood. Aurors, of course, would not be caught off guard so easily. Their job was to resist Dark Magic, and they prepared for danger.

“Sort of,” Onoda nodded with a smile of relief. “He was starting to feel better. Both mentally and physically. Maybe that's the hope that things will get a little better with time.”

“And he's just going to live with the Obscurus inside?” Imaizumi asked tensely, almost adding at the end, ‘How long will he last anyway?’

It was as if Onoda had heard his thoughts and grew sad.

“No one can say how long he'll live. It depends on a lot of factors...”

“That's harsh,” Naruko said and grimaced. “I don't even want to think that he's, like... doomed, I don't know? We're not in the fucking past century — can't anyone think of a way out?”

“You read that article about the boy who died from Obscurus,” Imaizumi reminded him, and Naruko bit his lip.

“That's not the case here. I just don't want to believe— He didn't—” Naruko said but interrupted himself. His eyes watered, and he covered them with his wrist, trying to restrain himself.

“He doesn't deserve it,” Imaizumi finished for him. “No one deserves that fate.”

“Shoukichi,” Onoda called worriedly, finally upset.

Naruko took his palm away, and he seemed fine now. He turned back around once more, checking to see if his brother was asleep. But Shingo even seemed to be dreaming already. Probably about Hogwarts or Quidditch.

“Okay,” Naruko said. “These conversations are too much of a challenge, aren't they?”

“I'm sorry,” Onoda replied quietly, lowering his gaze.

“Don't be discouraged,” Naruko tried to encourage him. “We'll try to figure something out on our own. We can't give up.”

“Yeah. Right,” Onoda nodded.

“How was the rest of your holiday, by the way?” Naruko asked, trying to smile. “For both of you.”

“I watched a new series,” Onoda shrugged, to which Naruko laughed softly.

“Well, you're the usual,” he replied, then glanced at Imaizumi with a frown. “And you stopped writing to me in the first place! Two paragraphs wouldn't take much effort from you!”

Imaizumi grinned involuntarily, restraining himself from replying that he'd written a lot more than two paragraphs, but he didn't dare to send it. And anyway, he spent the rest of the summer trying not to go insane about his feelings and powerlessness. He had no time to come up with an adequate letter.

“I've been busy,” Imaizumi said in his defence, still smirking.

“With what? Counting your pocket money for the next month?” Naruko rolled his eyes.

“Counting the nerve cells I've lost since I met you,” Imaizumi replied, expecting to offend but realising too late how ambiguous it sounded.

Naruko's eyes widened in surprise before he turned away tensely and looked at the door.

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

He got up from the suitcase and moved towards the exit, his movements were stiff and hesitant.

Onoda leaned back in his seat and, opening the cage door, slipped his hand inside to pet the sleeping owl. Sleepy reacted to his action, sleepily pulling her head out from under her wing and nibbling Onoda's finger.

Imaizumi sighed.

“I need to go too.”

“Huh?” Onoda retorted, looking up at him in surprise.

“I'll be back soon,” Imaizumi said, already opening the compartment door.

He stepped out into the narrow corridor, looked around, and moved towards the nearest toilet. Closing the door behind him in the small cubbyhole that led only to the vestibule and toilet, Imaizumi glanced at the door handle and knew from the position of the lock that it was locked — so Naruko was in there.

But that was okay. What was he himself doing? Why had he come? And no, he didn't need to go to the bathroom — he just wanted—

He wanted Naruko. In every possible and impossible way.

His stomach twisted with a spasm of nervousness. Imaizumi clenched his eyes shut, feeling a bout of dizziness. Whether it was from lack of sleep or something else, he didn't know and didn't have time to think properly, because the door lock suddenly clicked and the handle turned.

Naruko took a step outside and immediately looked up, blinking in amazement, apparently not expecting to see Imaizumi right here and now.

“Go,” Naruko said, turning sideways to the door to make way.

“I don't need to,” Imaizumi replied, trying to fight the dizziness and the new lump in his throat.

“Why did you come?” Naruko raised an eyebrow in incomprehension, and Imaizumi suddenly found a foolish courage.

He stepped closer, turning around at the same time, and pressed his palm against the wall at Naruko's head level.

“For you,” Imaizumi said, truly regretting the fact that they were not the same height, otherwise he could easily have bumped his nose right into Naruko's if he had moved forward even a few more centimetres.

Naruko opened his mouth, tilting his head back and looking straight into his eyes. He wanted to say something. Probably wanted to, but he didn't. He just squinted, and then pressed his lips together, stretching them into a smirk at the same time. He suddenly raised his hand, pressed his palm against Imaizumi's stomach, and began to move upwards. Slowly and unhurriedly. That action was already enough to nearly drive him insane. Imaizumi noisily sucked in air through his nose, closed his eyes, and felt Naruko's palm move up to his neck. His fingers touched the unprotected skin above the collar of his shirt, and then ran down his cheek.

“Oh-oh... that's bad,” Naruko said mockingly, watching his reaction in all its glory. “I'm flattered, of course...”

Imaizumi batted his hand away with the back of his palm, grabbed his robe, and lifted him up. They collided foreheads, which didn't bring him to his senses in the slightest.

“Shut up, you jerk, I just missed you,” he hissed almost angrily and resentfully, and cut the remaining distance to pull Naruko into a greedy kiss.

And Naruko responded. He let him into his mouth, clawed at Imaizumi's clothes with the same fervour and tried to seize the initiative. Imaizumi reluctantly relented, giving in to the pressure, and slammed his back into the opposite wall.

That was so... fucking awesome. The second he thought he'd die for something like that, his stomach twisted again. The words his father had said in anger rang in his head as if on cue. A threat.

If you dare to cast aspersions on our name, you'll not only have no job but a decent life — I'll make sure of it.

The worst part was that he could very well fulfil all of this.

And fear washed over Imaizumi in an icy wave, made him shiver.

Pushing Naruko away from him, he rushed to the toilet as quickly as possible and bent over, nearly falling down. He threw up and didn't even have time to cover the door behind him.

“Oh fuck, are you serious?” Naruko yelled insulted behind him. “You threw up after you kissed me?”

Imaizumi couldn't answer or at least think of an answer. He coughed, then pressed the flush exhaustedly and took a step towards the sink. Opening the water, he rinsed his mouth and then washed his face as well.

“Hey, are you okay?” Naruko asked, placing a palm on his shoulder and squeezing gently.

Imaizumi shook his head and looked at his reflection in the small mirror. Yeah, he looked lame. Pale and pathetic. Like he had met a Dementor and given him all the positive things he had. Naruko's reflection was close by, and he was scared.

“I ate something wrong for breakfast,” Imaizumi lied, trying to calm him down. “And didn't get enough sleep.”

“You're not lying?” Naruko asked suspiciously. “If something's wrong, tell me. Aren't we—” he demanded but interrupted himself.

He couldn't say the word friends? And were they really friends? Friends don't make out by the loo, trying to pin each other to the wall.

“It's okay, really,” Imaizumi replied, sighing. “I'm fine.”

It was hard to tell if Naruko believed it. Nevertheless, he didn't bother asking. They returned to the compartment in silence, and the rest of the journey was quite dull. Shingo slept almost all the way through, and Onoda dozed too, head pressed against the windowpane and leaving his palm in the owl's cage. But even though Imaizumi had an almost sleepless night, he couldn't sleep a wink. Naruko was also awake: sitting on the suitcase and just staring out the window, thinking about something of his own. Seeing him was almost torture now.

Imaizumi didn't know what he should do. All his dreams were crumbling like a house of cards. Everything he had hoped to do, growing up and gaining courage, was melting away in his thoughts, disappearing with the nasty crackle of shattering hope.

It was all useless.

Thinking, wishing for something forbidden. How would he like it if his parents turned their backs on him because of his unworthy choices? Moreover, they probably wouldn't even let him make that choice. Lock him up at home, never let him near Hogwarts again. Or maybe it would be better to use the Imperius Curse on him right away. That way he'd be the perfect son. Just as he should be.

All these thoughts made him feel even more despondent. The journey to the castle in the Thestral carriages was a long one, and during it, Imaizumi's perception of reality was as if through a dense fog. He didn't even noticed when Naruko managed to send his brother to the rest of the first-years who were to be ferried across the lake. The Gryffindors travelling with them were laughing and sharing stories about their holidays, but it seemed impossible to grasp the point. Imaizumi didn't even try, to be honest. He didn't care, and the only thing he wanted was for that stupid unbearable feeling of utter doom to disappear.

Immediately upon arrival there was, of course, as always, the Welcoming Feast in the Great Hall, though Imaizumi really wanted to skip it — to go up to Gryffindor Tower and fall asleep until morning. However, he had to go with everyone else, if only because he had to watch Shingo's sorting, otherwise Naruko would probably take offence.

As he took his seat, once again shifting closer to the doors as he had exactly a year ago, Imaizumi couldn't help but notice Onoda glancing back towards the Slytherin table. It was pure madness to love someone enough to look for them where you knew for sure they weren't. Onoda seemed to have some special reflexes, and there was no point in blaming him for it.

Naruko sat down next to him, fidgeting impatiently and waiting for the first-years to be ushered into the hall. They found themselves facing each other again, and when Naruko smirked, sending a meaningful look, Imaizumi felt like running away to the tower again. He did his best to look anywhere but at him. It was easier during the Sorting Ceremony though Naruko was constantly twitching, drawing attention to himself. He waved in encouragement when Shingo in the first-years row turned around for a few seconds.

There were more students this time than in years past, causing the ceremony to drag on. Imaizumi began nodding off, falling asleep even at the sound of the applause as the next student went to their table — fatigue was taking its toll, and he missed the moment when Shingo's name came out of the Head's mouth. Naruko let out a completely unrestrained loud shriek of delight that made Imaizumi flinch, startled, and then the matter became clear. Shingo had been sorted into Gryffindor.

It was basically expected after meeting and Naruko's earlier stories about his brothers. Apparently, the youngest would get into Gryffindor, too, and Naruko would burst with joy and smugness.

Finally, food appeared on the tables as well. Imaizumi forced himself to eat a little, still afraid that he'd be sick again, but this time his stomach didn't seem to be planning to rebel. He still couldn't eat in peace, though: Naruko had started to grate on his nerves with his antics again. Not only did he keep sending him meaningful glances, but then he pulled out his wand and made the end of Imaizumi's tie rise up. Imaizumi stubbornly ignored it, continuing his meal, exactly until he choked.

For the rest of dinner, he barely restrained himself from yelling at Naruko, and then he was among the first to rush out of the hall, asking Teshima for the new password to the common room before doing so.

Once in the dormitory, Imaizumi immediately set about putting the essentials in their places. Dragon Claw was already here and had chosen his bed for her rest, having licked herself before going to sleep, causing the bedspread to be covered in red hairs. Imaizumi didn't chase her away, figuring he'd do it after his shower, and then disappeared into the bathroom just as the rest of the neighbours entered the dorm.

He took a cool shower, froze, and climbed under the bedspread and blanket to the very edge of the bed, leaving the sleeping cat alone. She did notice his arrival, but surprisingly she didn't run away, instead laying right on the pillow and licking his damp hair a couple of times, which clung to her rough tongue.

The others didn't chat for particularly long. Soon all the lights were switched off, and the boys went to their sleeping places — after all, classes were starting tomorrow, and apparently the decision to go to bed seemed sensible to everyone.

Imaizumi fell asleep quickly in the silence and darkness, but after a while he had a real déjà vu. Only this time he woke up even earlier than Naruko had placed his knee on his bed. Imaizumi seemed to have heard his footsteps or sensed his approach — either way he knew.

Not bothering to open his eyes, he only rolled over onto his back, kicking the blanket off the edge of the bed, where another person's body landed almost immediately, laying down obscenely close.

“What again?” Imaizumi asked quietly, vaguely aware that now, unlike last time, the canopy was open and they could easily be seen if anyone woke up.

“Shh,” Naruko said, lying on top of him and, damn it, kissing him unceremoniously on the lips.

Imaizumi thought for sure he was going to suffocate. It was hot under the blanket, and then to top it all off, Naruko's knee pressed insistently between his legs.

Shoving him off, stopping him was the wisest choice right now, but it went ignored. Instead, Imaizumi moved his arms to embrace and pull him tighter against him. And beneath the pyjama shirt, Naruko's skin was as hot as his palms, his lips. Imaizumi ran his fingers only along his lower back and smoothed the fabric back down so as not to get even more excited. He really didn't want to get a hard-on — Naruko would be teasing him for a month over this.

It was over as quickly as it had started. Imaizumi even grudgingly thought he hadn't had enough, but Naruko still pulled away, circling his bottom lip with his tongue one last time. It was still semi-dark in the dorm, but the fact that he was smiling, Imaizumi could see.

“I missed you too,” Naruko whispered, to which Imaizumi grinned.

“I already know that.”

“What?”

“Found your secret message in your letter.”

“Tsk,” Naruko snorted unhappily and buried his face in Imaizumi's neck. “Whatever.”

Whatever, Imaizumi agreed mentally, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of Naruko's hair that could both drive him crazy and calm him down. This time it was the latter. Imaizumi was calming down. Forgetting everything bad from this closeness and almost ready to give thanks because he needed it now more than ever.

To not think about anything, to put out of his mind, at least temporarily, the problems that had arisen because of his rebellion and feelings for Naruko. Naruko seemed to be becoming not only an object of passion and love but also the very embodiment of the freedom that Imaizumi wanted so badly.

His desire for both was growing stronger, and he honestly had no idea how it would end.

Chapter Text

The end of autumn was really nasty. It rained almost every day, and the temperature dropped too soon. Quidditch practice wasn't so good with the bad weather, either: Often a light rainstorm caught them in the middle of warm-ups or drills, which meant that they had to put the Impervius Charm on their clothes, but it didn't help much. Imaizumi usually returned to the castle drenched and cold anyway, and in early November he had a runny nose for several days. This, of course, was nothing surprising. Especially considering how the infirmary was being refilled due to students catching colds. One weekday, even Onoda started to feel unwell with a sudden fever, and the Healer made him stay overnight in the Hospital Wing. Naruko was the only one of the three who had never fallen ill during the autumn — he was overly cheerful and always eager to continue training even when the drizzle turned into a downpour.

The day Onoda had been left in the infirmary, Imaizumi had envied him, not immediately, but when he remembered that the Gryffindors of his class had an Astronomy class with Ravenclaw. As usual, the class was held late at night, and Imaizumi was sleepy because he'd been up late last night finishing a Transfiguration essay for both of his friends. No, he would have done it sooner, except that he'd been masterfully thwarted by Naruko, who'd been hanging around, reading what Imaizumi had written and inserting his inappropriate comments. Maybe they'd pass out at the beginning of class — it wouldn't be a surprise, but it could easily get their House points taken away, which wasn't desirable. Even if they had won the School Cup last year, that didn't mean they could relax this year, Imaizumi actually felt a kind of pleasure when he told his parents about it, and they were happy for him, albeit discreetly.

However, there really wasn't any energy to chase points today. Imaizumi dreamed of a sick day and wouldn't even mind spending the night in the infirmary if he could just get some sleep. But no, his runny nose was gone now, and he didn't really like lying and pretending. He had to overpower himself and go to class with the others. Miki, in the company of the girls in her class, giggled when he yawned widely as he walked down the corridor and then wiped away the tears that had accumulated in the corners of his eyes. Naruko, to be fair, was yawning too, but his endless energy was to be commended: He managed to tell the girls a funny joke, making everyone laugh for the umpteenth time. Imaizumi, of course, could hardly be helped out of the semi-trance state he'd fallen into half an hour ago, but luckily Professor hadn't thought of anything particularly difficult when the class started and simply gave a lecture, starting a new topic.

It was bearable, and after fifteen minutes of the lesson she said she would be off to get some new maps that she had completely forgotten about, and asked the students to read the first section of the paragraph on page forty of the textbook for the time being.

Naruko immediately took the chance and dropped his head onto his crossed arms, not far from Imaizumi's desk, showing that he didn't want to absorb any new knowledge today. Imaizumi wanted to follow suit, but for now he was holding back and reading the text of the book at least for the sake of propriety.

Only the letters and lines soon began to blur, and he couldn't catch the essence. Imaizumi was almost dozing off when the Ravenclaw sitting in the front suddenly turned to him and, covering his mouth with his palm, whispered,

“Hey, Imaizumi, tell me, is it true?”

His neighbour, another Ravenclaw boy, elbowed him, apparently urging him to shut up, but the one addressing Imaizumi didn't give up. He was generally, as he remembered, a bit of an abomination for the House of smart and creative guys, and also a pureblood with a well-known name.

“What do you mean, 'true'?” Imaizumi asked, looking at the textbook with a bored look, still trying unsuccessfully to read the text in it.

“I hear your parents have chosen and arranged a meeting with your bride-to-be,” the boy whispered, moving closer on his chair, and as soon as he digested what he'd heard, it was as if his sleep had been erased. Imaizumi tensed with every cell of his body, almost trembling, and panic certainly flashed in his eyes. Oh God, the parents had been talking about it with their friends, and now the rumour had reached their children. “I almost died laughing when I heard my mom talking to her friend about it,” he continued, chuckling softly. “That's so past century!”

“Shut up,” his neighbour hissed at him, but the first thing Imaizumi did wasn't trying to justify himself or shut the overly loud mouth — he looked at Naruko.

Just for a second, after which he just as quickly turned back, but seeing that Naruko was asleep and hadn't even moved was enough for slight relief.

“Leave me alone, I just want to know,” the guy chuckled and looked at Imaizumi again. “And how is she? Is she pretty at all? Maybe your parents will pick a bride for me, too — it's about time, in case all the cool ones are gone by the time I'm twenty!”

Imaizumi was nearly boiling with shame and anger. He clenched his fists, barely restraining himself from snatching up his wand and pointing it at his offender, but—

Everything the Ravenclaw said was true. A truth that was stronger than any threats and spells in Imaizumi's arsenal.

Sitting in his place and biting his lip, he looked at the book again and felt himself inevitably weakening, weakening... There was absolutely nothing he could do against the truth.

“Look here,” Miki's familiar voice suddenly came from somewhere in front of him, and Imaizumi involuntarily raised his head.

The girl had left her seat for some reason — she was sitting not far away, and then for some reason she stood up and walked right up to the desk of the Ravenclaw sitting in front of Imaizumi. And she... pointed her wand at him. Imaizumi blinked in surprise and incomprehension at what was happening.

“One more word and I'll make you choke on slugs. Your mouth is slippery enough for them to be cosy in there, isn't it?” Miki said, her tone unaccustomedly cold and the tip of her wand held menacingly right in front of the other's nose.

The Ravenclaw admitted defeat. He fell silent and leaned over his textbook, whereupon Miki put her wand away and returned to her seat. Just as she sat down on her chair, Professor returned with a pile of fresh new maps rolled into long scrolls.

Imaizumi nodded faintly in acknowledgement to Miki, and she smiled lightly back at him. It was in her nature, really... She tried to protect anyone who needed help, in the first years she often stood up for Onoda if any of the students hurt him... But Imaizumi had never thought that someone... would have to stood up for him. He'd always thought he was capable of standing up for his dignity, but this time he'd been hit in the sore spot. Caught off guard. And there was nothing he could do. Nothing at all.

When he turned his head once more to look at Naruko, he was already sitting upright, but it was hard to tell if he'd heard anything. Imaizumi thought he hadn't, but for just one second Naruko's eyebrow twitched warningly, as if he was holding back from something, and it was unsettling.

If he heard, what would happen? What? panicked thoughts swirled in his head, and Imaizumi turned away hastily.

He still didn't know how serious their under-relationship was, but one thing was learnt firmly and had been learnt long ago — Naruko was jealous. He'd been jealous of Onoda when Manami came along, for a full four years, even though they'd only been best friends, jealous of Imaizumi when girls looked at him too obviously or for too long, but that had been before, when they'd been just friends too, and what would happen now if he had to be jealous of someone he kissed periodically and secretly?

Not that it would bother him — Imaizumi might even feel something like pleasure if Naruko reminded him that he cared about him. If something like that had happened in the past, Imaizumi might have even teased him about it, but now it was different.

He didn't even want to remember what his parents had done, and he wanted even less to see Naruko suffer because of their ridiculous whims. Imaizumi couldn't say exactly when it had happened, but at some point he realised that he didn't want to even jokingly try to hit a nerve or cause pain anymore.

Not to him.

When class was over and Professor escorted the sleepy students to their common rooms, Naruko still didn't give anything away. He fell asleep in his bed without saying anything, and at first Imaizumi thought it was a sign that everything was fine, but later he still had to admit otherwise.

It was obvious because Naruko started acting differently. He practically stopped talking to him, Imaizumi, and Onoda was quick to notice it too when he was released from the infirmary to sleep back in Gryffindor Tower the next night.

When asked what happened, Imaizumi lied that he had no idea, and Onoda seemed to calm down, busying himself with his own — perhaps thoughts of Manami, perhaps of the mysterious magical artefact the latter needed to create to solve the problem with the release of magic. Imaizumi had a vague understanding of that particular thing, and had explained to him how light and dark artefacts were created back at the beginning of the month after one of the practice when Onoda had asked. Onoda had become somehow tense after that conversation, and it wasn't at all clear how this new situation would end.

On the other hand, Onoda's obsession with Manami was to his advantage during this period because Imaizumi wouldn't be able to stand it if he continued to be pestered with questions.

It's just that Naruko had actually heard all about Imaizumi's 'bride' and now seemed to be seriously offended. And Imaizumi had no clue what to do about it, how to fix the situation. And why was it so hard to talk at a time like this?

Imaizumi had talked himself into it for days, right up until Saturday, so painfully aware of how Naruko was distancing himself from him, shutting down, but the conversation itself had been... extremely unsuccessful.

Onoda left them every week from the early morning: Professor Pierre accompanied him from Hogsmeade to see Manami, and Naruko and Imaizumi usually spent the day with their Quidditch team. Usually they would join Teshima and Aoyagi for a walk to Hogsmeade too, or do something else together, but this time Naruko said he wasn't going anywhere. And he said it too harshly.

His patience was apparently running out — Imaizumi got scared and tried to do something. He remained sitting on his bed, waiting for their neighbours, who were also planning a walk, to leave the dorm, and then cautiously suggested, “Let's talk.”

Naruko gave him an annihilating look, stopped stroking his cat, who immediately ran away and hid under the bed next to him, and asked back, “About what?”

“About what you heard in Astronomy class earlier in the week,” Imaizumi said overpowering himself.

Naruko snorted loudly at that.

“And what did I hear? A bit of detail about your personal life? I'm sorry if I'm not interested,” Naruko replied in a tone that was clearly filled with contempt, and hearing it made Imaizumi just shudder.

“I don't see any point in talking about something so boring and stupid,” Naruko added, rising from the bed.

Imaizumi stared at one point on the floor in disbelief. That's it? That's the end? This would be the end of their awkward romance that had never really started? Would he lose Naruko just because of what his parents were doing? Lose... the most important thing...

“Shoukichi!” Imaizumi jumped up, calling out his name against his will, and Naruko froze in the doorway.

“Are you serious, Hotshot?” he asked, turning around slightly, irritation frozen on his face. “Did you think I'd want to deal with all this shit? Why would I? The fact that we kissed a couple of times doesn't mean anything. Absolutely fucking nothing. We're not a couple, and I don't care who you're going to fuck after you graduate or whenever.”

He spat out the last words almost hatefully and left, closing the door on the other side behind him, leaving Imaizumi alone with the ringing silence and the pain that was growing inside like a poisonous flower. And even though he was almost certain that Naruko had lied when he said he didn't care, his words scared him into a state of despair.

When he was so needed. When he and Quidditch practice were almost the only distractions, making him forget life outside of Hogwarts, he just turned away from him. It was like he really didn't care. He didn't even want to listen.

Unwilling to put up with such an unfair arrangement, Imaizumi overpowered himself and got out of bed.

He walked down the spiral staircase, hoping to still catch Naruko in the common room, but it was almost empty. Only Miki was sitting in a chair with a newspaper, manually trying to assemble some sort of figure out of it.

“Are you looking for Shoukichi?” she asked, not taking her eyes off her work when Imaizumi almost stumbled on the last step. “He had just gone somewhere with Kabu and Danchiku. Did you two have a fight?”

Imaizumi slumped his shoulders tiredly, admitting that he definitely wouldn't be able to talk to Naruko anytime soon.

“A little,” he answered and then looked around the common room for Miki's friend, the one she spent most of her time with. “Why are you sitting here alone?”

“Aya's got a cold,” Miki answered, placing the origami frog on the coffee table. “I went to see her this morning, but then she fell asleep again. She'll get better faster if I don't bother her.”

“I see, okay,” Imaizumi said, already thinking of going back to the dorm, but Miki called out to him.

“You seemed depressed the last few days. Is it because of that incident in Astronomy class?”

Imaizumi wasn't sure he wanted to talk about it — yet something compelled him to stop, to delay his departure. Miki had somehow managed to get that prick to shut up, and he hadn't even thanked her for it.

“Um. Yeah, I guess so,” Imaizumi replied, still turning around.

“I see. You must be upset,” Miki said, picking up a new newspaper and folding it again. “I'd be upset, too, if someone started asking about my personal life during class. I don't like Ravenclaw guys, you know, — many of them are completely unfamiliar with the concept of tact.”

Imaizumi only shrugged his shoulders.

“You don't really like your parents' views on life, am I right?” Miki asked, and Imaizumi wrinkled his nose.

“Why are you asking that? It's—”

“None of my business?” with a weak smile, she suggested. “I know, but I'm just worried about you. With a mood like yours, you won't be able to give your best in practice anytime soon.”

Imaizumi grinned involuntarily. How could he have forgotten about Miki's incredible Quidditch obsession?

“I can understand you, too,” she added suddenly. “A little. Once upon a time, my parents tried to hint to me that it would be a good idea if I started dating someone... pureblood. Like, so that I wouldn't spoil the blood in the future. Luckily, they don't insist on it. If you like someone... not pureblood, how can you force yourself to like someone else?”

“Only my parents don't care who I want to love,” Imaizumi replied grimly, and Miki rustled the newspaper again, folding and unfolding it.

“And what do you choose? Humility or struggle? Adherence to tradition or... freedom?”

Imaizumi glanced down at the couch, feeling the growing irritation of this conversation. He knew what he had to choose, knew what would get him out of trouble.

“Humility,” he said quietly so Miki wouldn't hear, but she did.

“Are you sure?” she asked, and her hands froze unmoving. “You're a Gryffindor, Shunsuke. Do you think you got into the right House for you?”

“I don't think so,” he answered, forcing himself. “The Sorting Hat did me a favour.”

“And yet,” Miki smiled again, now looking directly at him. “You're in your fifth year here. This House has become your second family, hasn't it?”

“Perhaps,” Imaizumi nodded.

“And if you don't have the courage for something, we can share it with you. It's enough to open up and allow it.”

“Indeed.” Barely keeping himself from chuckling, Imaizumi turned away again to hide his face.

Naruko was here to kick him in his time of need, but now— Now Naruko had run away, abandoned him, and it was all about the fact that without him, Imaizumi didn't even want to fight.

“Thank you for what you did in class,” Imaizumi said quietly before heading back to the dormitory.

He was indeed grateful to Miki. And for her attempt at support, but it was unlikely that all this had the same effect that Naruko could have created with his actions.

Naruko slowly began to became the one of importance in the world, and at a moment like this, when he took offence, it made things even worse. When he was around, Imaizumi was calmer; when they couldn't see each other, Imaizumi lost the ability to breathe properly, to live. And he still... still feared so much that his parents would turn their backs on him too. Thrown away like unwanted rubbish. What was he supposed to do with all this?

Imaizumi never went outside once that day. He did his homework in the dormitory, hoping to distract himself, and then went to dinner alone. He didn't know if Naruko was coming or where he had gone with the guys in the first place, but all three of them did show up a little after the start. Naruko sat down in his usual seat and silently began his meal. Imaizumi was afraid to even look at him, continuing to pick at his plate.

What was on Naruko's mind? What was he thinking about? These questions raced through his mind nonstop, and Imaizumi felt the need to get to the bottom of it all. Wanted to put things back the way they were. How could he let the end come so soon?

Except he didn't dare to start the conversation again. Besides, there were other guys here — the possibility that they might hear them if Naruko got angry and raised his tone was not comforting or reassuring. He had to be left with nothing again.

When Naruko got up and left, he didn't say a word, didn't say where he was going, even though he couldn't usually keep anything to himself, and that only made it hurt more.

Imaizumi pushed his plate of dinner away from him without eating half of it, and then sullenly began to bag the sandwiches for Onoda. He was due back soon after his visit to Manami, and maybe Naruko would lighten up a little when the three of them were together.

But Imaizumi had started dreaming about that definitely early. Because when he returned to the dormitory, it was still empty. Naruko hadn't shown up and was hanging around somewhere with someone again.

Imaizumi sighed and put the sandwiches on the dresser before returning to the desk to continue working on his homework. By some miracle, he was engrossed and didn't immediately notice when the door opened and someone entered the room. Someone very quiet — definitely not Naruko, and then Onoda's voice asked where their third friend was.

Onoda came back at all somehow depressed and pale. Imaizumi even jokingly asked if he'd met a Dementor, and when Onoda answered in the affirmative (no kidding), he almost choked on air.

A little later, it became clear that the Dementor had apparently somehow managed to be born (well, the Ministry certainly would not have sent it) in the place where Manami had been isolated. This was an incredible shock because Imaizumi had read about these creatures and knew that it took much, much human suffering and pain to bring them into existence. Onoda, thanks to him, now knew too, and that knowledge upset him even more. He curled up on his bed and was on the verge of hysterics, and Imaizumi slowly began to guess that trying to create the magical artefact also had something to do with the appearance of the Dementor. Onoda, trying to calm himself down, said that the process was accompanied by a lot of pain, and before that he blamed it all on himself.

Listening to him was almost unbearable. A lump came to his throat and breathing became difficult as Onoda cried and Imaizumi didn't know how to comfort him. He was ready to apologise endlessly for his own weakness when his friend was in real trouble, and he couldn't think of anything smarter at this point than to offer his and Naruko's help in making the artefact. They could try to make it too, after all, if they knew the principle.

Onoda didn't agree to it right away. He definitely didn't want to involve his friends, but Imaizumi had insisted — he knew all too well that Onoda couldn't handle it, that Onoda himself barely had the strength to bear it and keep going. And if he and Naruko could be his support, they had to do it. No matter the risks and danger. They were one House, one family, as Miki had said, right?

There was still Naruko to tell, and Imaizumi decided to take this concern upon himself again even if he hadn't yet sorted out the previous one. However, it wasn't possible to fulfil it as soon as he wanted to. Naruko had been snapping at him for a week, as if they were first-years again, and Imaizumi was beginning to lose hope.

Miki's attentive glances, which he occasionally caught on his own, added fuel to the fire, but he was grateful that at least she wasn't pestering him with advice anymore. The only way to get rid of her was to play Quidditch properly. Imaizumi thought he was doing just that, but the arguments with Naruko at practice were getting more frequent, and Miki watched every practice and probably took notice of it.

The last straw was another Saturday, which came too suddenly. Everyone had gone to Hogsmeade — even Naruko hadn't refused this time and had sat at the table with the entire Quidditch team in the Three Broomsticks at first, but then he'd suddenly gone to some Hufflepuff classmates he knew and got into fun conversations with them.

Imaizumi watched with a frown because he was starting to feel jealous, and when one of the girls sitting next to him put her arms around Naruko's neck (Imaizumi didn't know why the hell that had happened and didn't want to know), his anger was so strong that the mugs of Butterbeer on his table bounced and turned to stone along with their contents.

Teshima, Aoyagi and Danchiku blinked in surprise; Kaburagi started yelling and laughing about it, but Imaizumi ignored everyone else's reaction and rose from his chair, nearly shaking with rage.

He walked over to the table where Naruko and the Hufflepuffs were sitting and froze, apparently, with such a grim look on his face that everyone was instantly silent and frightened.

“What the hell are you doing?” Naruko asked, raising an eyebrow, and Imaizumi was surprised at his threatening tone.

“You seem to have forgotten where you belong, Naruko.”

Naruko's mouth dropped open in amazement at this, but then he seemed to realise what he was hearing and jumped up from his seat in fury as well.

“I forgot? Or maybe it was you who forgot where you belonged, you pureblooded nobility?” he hissed, placing his palms on the tabletop noisily, causing the girls around him to flinch, and Imaizumi barely restrained himself from reaching across the table and grabbing him by his clothes.

Naruko hadn't addressed him that way in a hundred years, and the words now pissed the hell out of him. Only out of his mouth did something like that sound like the world's most hurtful insult.

“How long has it been since you've had your mouth washed?” Imaizumi asked, looking straight at Naruko and completely forgetting that there were a bunch of people here, some of whom were already looking at them.

“Pha! There's no need to be offended by the truth,” Naruko chuckled. “Or are you a special, pure-blooded prince?”

Well, who else but him knew so well that Imaizumi hated it when his origins were pointed out?

And before he could think about it well, Imaizumi had slipped his hand into his robe pocket and was already clutching the hilt of his wand. But Naruko's attentiveness and reaction was on point. He snatched up his wand and they pointed them at each other at the same time.

“So, are you going to attack first?” Naruko asked, smirking wryly and gamblingly.

Imaizumi frowned tensely, gripping the wand's hilt tighter and wondering what he would do if Naruko threw a spell at him now.

“Hey, get out of here, you two!” the owner shouted, coming towards them, and they both flinched. “All arguments and fights outside the pub!”

Naturally, they were thrown out. There wasn't even anything surprising about it. And once outside the door, Naruko hid his wand in his pocket resentfully, then cast a grim look at Imaizumi. Imaizumi did exactly the same, and as if they had talked it over beforehand, they simultaneously stepped with their right feet towards the stairs.

“Don't repeat after me, listen, you!” Naruko exploded, turning around sharply and jabbing his finger into Imaizumi's face.

“It was an accident, just so you know!” Imaizumi replied in an equally rude tone and pushed his hand away from his face.

“An accident?” Naruko squealed louder than before, now clutching at his clothes. “So you're making excuses? Maybe that's the explanation for all your actions? Maybe you kissed me by accident too?”

Blushing at the last phase, Imaizumi glanced nervously at the road and realised that a couple of elderly wizards passing by had heard them after all. They threw surprised looks at them and then sped up, intending to get away faster, and Imaizumi felt even more embarrassed.

“Don't shout about it all over the street! Do you want people to know about it and spread rumours around the school?” he shouted, glaring at Naruko again.

“Let them! Let everyone know what an asshole you are! You're just a disgusting, disgusting, hypocritical prick!”

“Hypocritical? What was my hypocrisy?” Imaizumi asked furiously.

“In everything you did!” Naruko shouted back, sharply pushing him away from him. “I don't give a fuck about your games! Find yourself another idiot!”

He started down the porch, stomping like an elephant with anger, and Imaizumi, slowing down only for a second, hurried after him.

“What are you even talking about? I wasn't playing with anyone!”

“You fucking knew this was going to happen!” Naruko didn't stop shouting, and passersby on the path practically shied away from them as he hurriedly and nervously made his way, apparently towards the road back to Hogwarts. “Merlin, I knew this was going to happen, but I acted like a complete idiot!”

“Stop yelling and let's talk about this calmly!” Imaizumi asked, but Naruko didn't listen and didn't even slow down.

“You're the one yelling, you moron! What's your problem? Don't follow me! You ruined a perfectly good rest, and for what?”

“Because I'm jealous, that's why!” Imaizumi replied, but Naruko waved his palm irritably.

“Oh, fuck you! You think I give a shit about that? You don't give a damn about how other people feel — people like you only care about yourself! Pure-blooded, narcissistic, rich scum. You'll have the best of everything, Shunsuke Imaizumi. Don't waste your time on rubbish like me.”

“Naruko...” Imaizumi said quietly, feeling already out of breath from their frantic pace.

Naruko nevertheless still wasn't slowing down, and actually — did it seem to Imaizumi? That there seemed to be tears in his voice at the end.

It made all the thoughts in his head jumbled up, and trying to reason rationally became so difficult. Imaizumi didn't know what to do. He was torn with conflicting feelings. He was in pain, he wanted to stop, to give up on everything again, but on the other hand, he felt the need to catch up with Naruko, to hold him close and not let him go, because, God, he couldn't live without him anymore.

And what luck it was that soon the passers-by disappeared and the road began to turn. Imaizumi was already panting like he was jogging, and he called out to Naruko again, ordering him to stop. Naruko, of course, didn't listen — he walked on, stubbornly and ignoring the layer of snow beneath his feet. Imaizumi had to run to grab his arm and turn him round to face him, and then see—

Oh shit.

“Let me go!” Naruko shrieked, trying to pull his arm free. “What the fuck do you want, really? You want to finish me off, don't you?”

And he was crying. Really was crying. His cheeks were red and wet, but his eyes remained angry, and the whole thing made Imaizumi forget to breathe.

“Get the fuck out of here!” Naruko continued, jerking his arm violently and trying to free himself. “Get out of here and out of my life too! I wish so badly that you would just disappear, that you wouldn't exist, you've ruined everything! I hate you, okay? You hurt me! You hurt me so bad!”

“Please,” Imaizumi said in a trembling voice, feeling himself approaching the edge: Just a little more and his heart would burst with pain. “I feel as... bad as you do...”

Naruko stopped struggling. Gradually he calmed down, abandoned all attempts to escape, and just lowered his head as he continued to sob and shake.

“I don't want anyone else...” Imaizumi admitted, slowly letting go of his wrist. “No one else but you, that's the truth. And what happened… it's not my fault — it's my parents' whim. They didn't even ask me, they just faced me with a fact, but that doesn't mean I agree with them.”

“You don't want to get married?” Naruko asked in a shaky voice, pressing his palm to his face and trying to wipe his nose.

“God, of course I don't,” Imaizumi replied. “I like you — and you know that, don't you? I never even thought of playing with you. I want— God… I want to be with you. For real.”

Naruko raised tear-damp eyes in surprise, and Imaizumi bit his lip, unable to resist his gaze. So full of wonder and hope. Hope...

“Are you kidding?”

“No. No,” Imaizumi breathed out. “I would give anything to date you. I want it… so badly. Naruko… let me—” He reached for him. Naruko flinched at first as if startled, but he didn't pull back, and Imaizumi raised his hands to cup his hot cheeks with his freezing palms. “Let me kiss you.”

And Naruko let him. Closed his eyes and relaxed as Imaizumi leaned in, shortening the distance between their faces, and pressed his own lips to his. Naruko clung to him in response. Tightly and greedily. His tongue penetrated his mouth, filling the kiss with the salty taste of tears and the sweet taste of Butterbeer. Pleasure and relief made him dizzy — Imaizumi was almost ready to moan, and then suddenly he felt the way he only felt with Naruko.

Omnipotence flooded over his head.

“Let's date,” Imaizumi said, completely unafraid and confident as he pulled back a little, and Naruko looked into his eyes with bewilderment.

“Oh, you're out of your mind.”

“Yes,” Imaizumi agreed, barely holding back a smile. “You made me lose my mind. You drove me go crazy, do you want to hear it?”

“I want to hear that you've decided to do what you were talking about in the pub,” Naruko grinned suddenly.

“What was that?”

“Something about washing mouth out, I think.”

Imaizumi laughed though, letting go and straightening up finally, and Naruko laughed with him.

“That's not what I meant.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“And you didn't answer me,” Imaizumi reminded him insistently.

“To what?” Naruko asked, smiling even wider. What a bloody insufferable arsehole.

“You know,” Imaizumi gloomed again, not wanting to repeat the most embarrassing phrase of his life.

“I don't know. What if I misunderstood you? I can inadvertently answer a completely different question...” Naruko continued to taunt, and Imaizumi was almost angry.

“Will you date me?” he repeated, though it sounded more like a death sentence.

Naruko looked up thoughtfully and mumbled something inaudible.

“Hmm... What an unexpected suggestion. I don't know what to say. Can I think about it for a few days?”

“No,” Imaizumi replied dryly, feeling a growing shame, and Naruko chuckled gloatingly.

He suddenly moved closer and then hugged him around the waist, hiding his face in Imaizumi's loosely-tightened scarf.

“What's it going to be like?” Naruko asked.

“I don't know,” Imaizumi replied, feeling shaky again, putting his hands on his shoulders and hugging him. “Would we understand if we tried?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Naruko exhaled quietly, squeezing his hands tighter. “Only without the girls.”

“Unlike you, I haven't hugged anyone,” Imaizumi said, slowly looking up and only now realising that it was snowing again.

It was the leisurely beginning of winter. His fifth winter at Hogwarts, which entailed the most incredible change in his life that made his palms shake in anticipation of happiness, and the thought that it was all a big mistake throbbed in his head.

So be it, thought Imaizumi, dreaming of standing here like this, hugging with Naruko until the very night.

Even if it was a mistake, he was willing to accept the consequences because he... no, the two of them really needed this.

Chapter Text

Imaizumi tried not to think about how the Christmas holidays had gone — he headed home nervous, and as it turned out later, not at all in vain. Even if some part of him really wanted to hope that his parents had forgotten about all the strife over the summer, the reality was less favourable. As he stepped onto platform nine and three-quarters upon his arrival in London, his father greeted him with coldness, his mother gave him a stiff hug with her lips pressed together — and Imaizumi instantly realised that nothing was over.

Now that he was already back at Hogwarts, he didn't want to think about it at all — he had a lot of other things to worry about. For example, he had, good lordy God, suggested Naruko dating two months ago and had managed to really feel it. Naruko had also agreed to try to create the magical artefact for Manami when Imaizumi had told him about it — moreover, had willingly supported the idea, as if encouraged by it. Teshima had brought up the subject of captaincy again, and in general... life connected to the people Imaizumi had met at Hogwarts was booming. Although he realised that it was foolish to hope that the problem with his future marriage would resolve itself, he wanted to ignore it now and give himself over to that mirage of fragile happiness that had a simple name...

Shou-ki-chi.

Everything had changed. Even if in public they were trying to behave as they had before, when they were alone, they could no longer hold back, and Imaizumi was taking full advantage of that.

It was scary, it was thrilling, and it was exhilarating to be able to pull Naruko to him for a kiss, to squeeze his shoulders. Drowning in the sensations, trembling at the thought of someone catching them. They unanimously agreed that all of this should remain a secret, at least for the near future. Naruko was excited at first, his eyes lighting up, and Imaizumi could have sworn he could feel his desire to blab it to the world. Naruko wasn't good at keeping things to himself at all, but after calming down a little later, he tiredly admitted that if his mother somehow found out that he was dating a guy, she would kill him without any proceedings. Imaizumi could say the same about his parents — especially now was the worst time to make such a statement. What would they think if they found out that not only did their son didn't want to get married, but he also preferred guys? The guy...

One. The only one.

His heart fluttered at that thought every time, and Imaizumi began to feel disconnected from reality again. Everything he had left at home was forgotten as if under the influence of the Obliviate.

Besides, now was the time to wait for Onoda to find out the exact method of creating the magical artefact. After that, decide what to do next, most likely to plan new 'training', and Imaizumi hoped they could manage that before the end of the school year. Especially since Onoda was very worried about Manami — getting into it, while difficult, wasn't a problem in the moments when he returned from their weekly meetings. Imaizumi, to be honest, couldn't even imagine himself in the shoes of either of them — difficult, and scary too. He felt shame as he reassured himself that a similar problem hadn't happened to him or Naruko. Neither of them had to spend all their days imprisoned in an incomprehensible wilderness, neither of them had to worry about the life of their loved one.

But despite everything, Imaizumi was just as quick to forget that unpleasant feeling as soon as Onoda stopped talking about Manami. Even though they had discussed everything, even though he too had told Onoda that he was going to fight not only for his happiness but for Manami's as well, Imaizumi couldn't admit to himself that he was beginning to feel something warm for Manami. He doubted that they would become friends so easily if Manami was allowed to return to school, but the desire to somehow help justice be done kept his strength up along with other contributing desires, and Imaizumi was willing to try. He felt he had to do it for Naruko too.

But while they were waiting for the first Saturday of the new term, when Onoda would probably find out all the details about the magical artefact, another event happened, and not a pleasant one.

Potions class was going on quietly, everyone was busy with their cauldrons and preparing the Strengthening Solution. Imaizumi, as usual, tried to keep an eye on both Onoda and Naruko too, in case they did something wrong, but luck was clearly not on their side this time. While Imaizumi was trying to convince Onoda that salamander blood was no reason to faint, Naruko made a mistake. Something in his cauldron exploded with a soft pop, and then some of the potion spilled out onto the table, which meant the work would have to be redone.

Professor watching them frowned unhappily but told them to just clean up and carry on. Naruko lowered his head doomedly, trying to wipe the foul-smelling drops of potion from his face and clothes, and looking at him, Imaizumi pulled out his wand to cast a cleaning spell with a weary sigh.

And that was okay — the recipe was indeed difficult to follow, and Naruko wasn't particularly friendly with Potions — but also he wasn't friendly with someone else who was in the classroom right now. With the Slytherins, yes. Naturally, he was not indifferent when one of the guys in the next row made a joke about the cauldron incident. Naruko was so angry and responded to the joke with such a wild phrase that Imaizumi didn't even want to stop him, but felt a sense of pride.

“Shove your stupid opinion up your arse if there's any room left, or is there so much shit in you that you can't get it out in time?”

“Naruko!” Professor shouted, indignantly dropping the parchment she was holding in her hands. “What kind of language is that? Fifteen points from Gryffindor, and you're staying for detention!”

Naruko bit his lip, turning away from his offender, who stood with a face twisted with indignation.

“Did you hear me?” Professor asked demandingly, picking up the parchment, and Naruko mumbled reluctantly in response,

“Yes. Today?”

“The day after tomorrow. Saturday,” Professor sternly adjusted the small glasses on her nose. “Come to my office at twelve in the morning — there are a lot of old cauldrons in the storeroom that need tidying up. Maybe it will help you to be more careful with more than just your tongue.”

“But—” Naruko said, raising his head.

Imaizumi barely audibly sighed — they had wanted to go to Hogsmeade on Saturday to see the new merchandise at Zonko's, and now that seemed to be cancelled.

“No objections!”

By the end of the lesson, few could boast of a perfectly brewed potion — Professor was not pleased and said they would return to the topic in the next class, then dismissed everyone, once again reminding Naruko to come in on Saturday for detention.

The punishment was so-so, of course, but their spirits were still lifted again once they left the classroom and Onoda repeated Naruko's phrase, saying with a chuckle that it was a complete nightmare. The three of them laughed, and Imaizumi no longer felt so much disappointment at having to go to Hogsmeade on Saturday without Naruko.

All the next day he often thought about going to Zonko's and buying some funny souvenir for Naruko, but on Saturday morning, when he woke up and looked at Onoda's empty bed, he thought that he didn't have to go anywhere at all. There would still be plenty of weekends left and they could go to Hogsmeade next week, unless Naruko got some sort of punishment again, of course. And after breakfast today, maybe try going to the Potions professor's office with him and ask if he could join? Of course, he didn't want to deal with the old dirty cauldrons, especially considering that they would most likely be forced to clean them without the help of magic, but he couldn't leave Naruko alone because of this.

This was so funny, Imaizumi thought as he washed his face in the bathroom. He used to feel a nasty pleasure at Naruko being punished, but there were no such feelings now. Except a feeling of fatigue. Well, Naruko wouldn't be himself if he started holding himself together.

The dormitory was still quiet when Imaizumi finished with his morning water treatments. The neighbours had already left for breakfast, and the only three sleepies left were Naruko, his cat, and Onoda's owl.

“Hey,” Imaizumi said glumly as he pulled on his trousers beside his bed, but there was no response. Naruko didn't even move.

Buttoning his shirt as he went, Imaizumi walked over to his bed, sat down on the edge, and stroked the cat sleeping near Naruko's head. She shook her head and then stretched out her front paws, yawning. Her owner was still sleeping soundly, his cheek pressed against the pillow and his hand tucked under it. Imaizumi was suddenly afraid to do anything, to touch, to disturb. Only when Naruko was asleep did he lose all his aggressive and combative temperament, becoming an ordinary boy, except that he was very... cute.

Cute?

Imaizumi grinned at his own thought and then still gingerly touched a bright strand of hair, taking advantage of the moment before there was any styling gel on it.

It felt so good. Wish it was possible to always touch him, forgetting about inhibitions. To be close to him. To feel his heart starting to speed up in the chest just from that...

“Hey,” Imaizumi called out again, leaning in close to his ear. “Wake up. We still have to go to detention, remember?”

Naruko fidgeted in bed, face buried in the pillow, and mumbled unintelligibly, “I'm going to skip this first class.”

“I wouldn't advise it,” Imaizumi smiled, and Naruko sat up abruptly, throwing back part of the blanket.

“Ah, damn it — it's Saturday! I've overslept my detention!”

“Not yet,” Imaizumi replied, and Naruko looked at him with a sleepy, confused look. “We'll be able to go to breakfast, even.”

“Wow,” Naruko blinked, looking around the dormitory, then stared at Imaizumi. He stared for about ten seconds and then said, “You look beautiful today.”

Imaizumi felt his cheeks flush as Naruko reached up after his words and put his arms around his neck.

“Hey, are you saying that I usually look so-so?” Imaizumi asked, hardly feeling annoyed — the welcome closeness was making him melt and relax.

“You don't usually look like my boyfriend. But now you are,” Naruko replied, rubbing his own head against Imaizumi's like a cat. “Wow, I like the sound of that. Fucking awesome.”

“Yeah, it is,” Imaizumi agreed, biting his lip at the overwhelming feelings. “You'd better hurry to the bathroom if you want to eat before work.”

“I'll have to take something with me,” Naruko said, pulling away reluctantly. “I'm pretty sure I'll be stuck there until tonight. Are you going to Hogsmeade?” he asked, climbing out of bed.

“No,” Imaizumi replied, and Naruko turned around in surprise as he struggled to get his feet into his slippers.

“Why is that? What about Zonko's?”

“We'll go next week. Together, okay? And after breakfast, I'll come with you, see if I can get you some help with the detention. If anything, I'll say that I was the one who encouraged you to say something outrageous.”

Naruko grinned and moved toward the bathroom.

“How noble of you, Hotshot, I'm flattered.”

He lingered in the bathroom for a full twenty minutes, messing up the softness of his hair again, and they really had to hurry to arrive at least by the end of Saturday breakfast. A fresh issue of the Daily Prophet lay lonely in Imaizumi's place — the owl apparently hadn't bothered to check if the recipient had received his mail and had simply flown away. But there was nothing of interest in the paper. Imaizumi only skimmed the titles and then went on with his breakfast, trying not to comment on the fact that Naruko was once again eating jam straight from the bowl.

Later, they were the last to leave the hall with a pack of hastily made sandwiches, and they only had time to make it to the Potions Professor's office.

It turned out that she was cleaning her office as well, and when Naruko and Imaizumi stopped at the open door, they saw a pile of tattered boxes of vials and potion ingredients.

“Good afternoon, Professor,” Imaizumi and Naruko said hello at the same time, and Professor looked away from the large box placed on the table.

“Oh, good afternoon, guys,” she replied confused. “Do you have some business with me?”

Imaizumi stiffened in surprise, and Naruko seemed to be surprised as well.

“Well— actually, you told me to come for detention...” he muttered uncertainly.

Professor lifted a hand stained with something and wiped her forehead with her wrist.

“That's right. I'd forgotten all about it. But you can help me with the cleaning — there aren't enough house-elves to do everything, unfortunately. Come with me, and... Imaizumi, I don't remember assigning you detention.”

“Yes, I— just wanted to help him...”

“Your House's always so friendly,” Professor smiled instead of objecting and led the way to another part of the corridor.

Imaizumi glanced over to Naruko, but the latter said nothing and just shrugged. It was a strange start, and Professor seemed to have been replaced, though the feeling didn't last long as Imaizumi saw the large storeroom, which was so full of old cauldrons it made him dizzy.

“To be fair, they all need to be cleaned and scrubbed. You can use wands, though not all dirt is removed by charms, you'll have to work with your hands somewhere. Buckets and rags are in the right corner, where the sink is. You'll find the cleanser there as well. I'll come check on you in a few hours,” Professor said, and Imaizumi could barely keep from cursing. They couldn't even do this in a week.

“It's not for the faint of heart,” Naruko whistled as Professor left, and put his hands at his sides.

Imaizumi looked down at the huge rows of cauldrons stacked on top of each other and regretted that he had thought to come here at all.

“We'll be faster with magic, won't we?” Naruko said, pulling out his wand and rolling up his sleeves. “I thought she was going to take them.”

“That's what you think,” Imaizumi twitched his eyebrow nervously. “You'd get tired of casting the spell as many times as there are cauldrons, and it's not like they'd clear the first time.”

“You make everything so complicated,” Naruko muttered, waving his wand and casting the Levitation Charm.

One of the cauldrons above floated down smoothly, and Naruko grimaced as he looked into it.

“It looked like chicken was being cooked here. Without any water. And the smell is just like someone died.”

Imaizumi shuddered at the thought of what might be inside the cauldron, and he didn't move closer to find out. Instead, he took a few steps to the side and decided to tackle the second mount.

Of course, it was a good thing they were allowed to use wands. He applied cleaning spells to the cauldrons a few times, getting them looking more or less decent, and then moved them to the side, listening to Naruko do the same. But they were gradually draining their magical energy, and it was clear that it wouldn't last long. After only an hour of work they were both feeling exhausted, even though they had only reached the bottom rows, and there were two more pyramids of old cauldrons ahead, and they looked much taller and dirtier than the previous ones.

Naruko suggested a snack and a fifteen minute rest, after which they set to work again, but without wands. They had to walk to the sink, fill buckets of water, dilute it with a cleaning solution, and grab rags and brushes. Imaizumi thought that he had never been so humiliated before in his life, and then still forced himself to take on a new dirty cauldron.

It was easier for Naruko, though. He laughed, saying that his mom often made him do the dishes at home, and it was not the first time he had to deal with such work. Imaizumi, on the other hand, felt like he had been given a Muggle mobile phone and forced to figure it out for himself. It seemed like an eternity before he got the hang of it and scrubbed at least one stain off the bottom. His arm ached from the repetitive action, his forehead was soaked, and sitting on the stupid low bench was uncomfortable. To top it all off, his shirt sleeves were getting dirty, which was so disgusting, but he couldn't be distracted by that.

Another hour passed in that vein. While Naruko worked and hummed some familiar song to himself, Imaizumi fought disgust as he stuck his hand with a brush into another cauldron, and he didn't immediately notice a suspicious noise. At the end of the storeroom, where it was quite gloomy and dirty, was some old cupboard that didn't catch his eye, but drew his attention when it suddenly started making noises. It was as if something was sitting inside, and Imaizumi became uncomfortable at the thought of what it could be. Some kind of creature or worse. Professor better get back soon.

“Do you think Sakamichi will bring news today?” Naruko asked, still scrubbing the cauldron as if it didn't bother him at all.

“It would be fine,” Imaizumi mumbled, stopping to catch his breath and change his hand. “The sooner the better. We can't start until we know the details.”

“You say it's going to hurt? Physically or—”

“Look, I don't know. It's—”

But the cupboard rattled again, much harder this time, and even Naruko noticed.

“What is it?” he asked warily, letting go of the cauldron and standing up to his full height.

“I don't know,” Imaizumi gritted his teeth irritably. “Doxy or some shit. This place hasn't been cleaned in a hell of a long time, so it could be anyone.”

“So let's get them out of there,” Naruko chuckled, already making a move to step around the mountains of cauldrons, and Imaizumi rolled his eyes.

“Stop it. Do you have to look for trouble every time? We don't know what's out there, much less whether we can handle it...”

“You're so sensible and serious,” Naruko said in a mocking tone as he approached Imaizumi from behind and leaned down to wrap his arms around his neck. “I'm starting to get turned on by this, you know?”

“What are you talking about?” Imaizumi replied nervously, feeling strange.

“About the fact that I like you, Shunsuke,” Naruko said, moving his mouth closer to his ear and continuing his taunting. “Shall we lie on the bed when they let us go? I want to make out a little.”

Barely holding back a doomed sigh, Imaizumi closed his eyes and Naruko released him to go back to his work. And hell, yeah. Making out. On the bed. Even just the mere fantasy of it was so inflaming, it made the bottom of his stomach feel sweetly heavy. Wouldn't it be nice if they were released before dinner? If they could go back to the empty dorm and be just the two of them for a little while longer—

Thinking about it, Imaizumi had already managed to fall out of reality when suddenly a voice brought him back. But it wasn't Naruko's voice. Or even Professor's. It was—

“Hello Shunsuke, long time no see.”

After knocking over the cauldron and jumping up from his seat, Imaizumi turned around. His heart dropped in an instant, his breath caught, and he trembled. No. Not this.

Standing not far from him was Milena. In a pretty blue dress, with a nice shy smile on her face. She looked away, then looked at him again and said, “You know, I've managed to miss you...” She took a step towards Imaizumi and reached out her arms. “Would you like a hug?”

Imaizumi staggered back in horror, not understanding anything, and only then did he think to glance at the cupboard at the end of the storeroom. It was open! It had opened when neither of them had noticed, and—

“It's a boggart,” Imaizumi gulped, barely getting the words out, and heard Naruko scramble out of his seat, seemingly straight towards him.

“Holy shit that's adorable!” Naruko said, pushing Imaizumi behind his back and pointing his wand at Milena... no, boggart. “It's time for you to grow taller, dearie!”

He apparently expected the boggart to transform into his mother, but it changed drastically, really grew, but not into a woman... Into Imaizumi.

A couple of seconds — and an almost ringing silence hung in the room. Naruko froze unmoving, seemingly completely dumbfounded, Imaizumi even more so. Seeing himself... a perfect copy of himself was eerie and strange. But why—

The face, one-to-one similar to his own, suddenly distorted into an unpleasant smirk. The eyes, as if darker than they should be, looked directly at Naruko, and then the mouth opened to say...

“You thought I needed you? Really?” Imaizumi heard his own voice, trembled even more, and realised he couldn't do anything. “You're just pathetic for thinking up a perfect future for yourself. I—”

“Riddikulus!” he was interrupted by Professor's harsh voice.

What luck that she had returned in time. The image of the boggart disappeared with another clap, transforming into small animals — Nifflers, which, having barely had time to flee, inflated into fluffy balls and helplessly hammered in the air with small paws. After a few more seconds, Professor cornered the boggart back into the cupboard, sealing the doors with a final spell.

“I apologise, boys,” she said in an apologetic tone, lowering her wand. “It was my fault — I should have checked the storeroom before I left you here. I didn't realise there was a boggart in the cupboard.”

But neither Imaizumi nor Naruko could say a word. Both of them were still stunned by what had happened, both of them unable to come to their senses, and as Professor came closer to them, she gave them a worried look.

“You are both grimy and dirty like two little devils. Go and wash yourselves, and we'll call it a day.”

Naruko seemed to wake up first. He nodded and walked towards the exit, and then Imaizumi looked down at his soiled shirt and hands and admitted that he'd never been so dirty in his life.

Dirty? What was he even thinking about right now?

Following Naruko but not keeping up with him, he stalked down the long corridor, mentally berating himself for everything that had happened because this was a complete nightmare. Not only had the boggart been Milena to him, inappropriately reminding him that he was now more afraid of getting married than he was of getting kicked off the Quidditch team, but to Naruko... Oh, shit.

“Wait,” Imaizumi called out, quickening his step, but Naruko didn't even turn around.

“What? I'm filthy and I really need a shower.”

Imaizumi bit his lip, finally realising the awkwardness of the whole situation. Naturally, Naruko didn't want to talk about what had happened. Perhaps his own fear was something of a revelation to him, perhaps he was ashamed right now, and to be honest, so was Imaizumi. Meeting a boggart was quite a humiliation. But it felt even worse when someone else saw your fear. It's like they're opening your soul without permission.

The school was quiet as they made their way up to Gryffindor Tower. The only people they met on the way were younger students, they looked askance at them but saying nothing, and Imaizumi didn't care right now what he looked like or what others thought of him. What worried him most was something else — he was afraid that Naruko would close himself off from him again, start lying, putting on one of his masks.

What he would do about it, Imaizumi had no idea, and he stumbled on the stairs out of nerves, nearly falling. Naruko did turn around in his direction though and asked in surprise, “Are you okay?”

No I'm not, and you?

“Just stumbled. Let's go,” Imaizumi said with a shake of his head, still remembering how much he wanted to wash up and change into clean clothes.

Finding himself in the empty dormitory was an incredible relief. Deciding that he would deal with all things later, Imaizumi went straight into the bathroom, and Naruko didn't leave him a single step behind. They bumped into each other at the door but ignored it and went to different shower stalls.

Imaizumi undressed in a hurry and heard Naruko fiddling with his clothes in the next stall. The feeling of awkwardness returned as soon as he got rid of his underwear and stood under the warm jets of water. Naruko was showering right behind the wall, and there was no way to get that out of his mind, even as Imaizumi tried to concentrate on washing his hands.

A new problem appeared soon after. Just as he turned off the water, feeling clean at last, came the realisation that he had nothing but a towel. He hadn't brought a change of clothes with him.

Fuck, Imaizumi winced, recognising that he didn't want to put on any of what was now lying in a crumpled heap by the locked door.

He had to go the other way. Drying himself off with a towel and then tying it around his hips. He'd get to the dorm that way, then get dressed. Yeah, that was a good plan. Imaizumi had hoped to get everything done before Naruko, but as soon as he stepped out, the door of the next stall opened as if on cue as well. And of course, Naruko hadn't brought his clothes with him either. Bravo.

“Let's go,” Imaizumi exhaled, turning to leave and trying to mentally convince himself that he just thought Naruko looked interested.

The day seemed to be planning to drive him crazy. One awkwardness after another. Walking into the dorm, Imaizumi tried to imagine what time it was, but then changed his mind and turned around abruptly. Naruko stopped too, staring at him blankly, a look that made him want to fall under the ground.

“Look,” Imaizumi sighed tiredly, realising he couldn't stay silent any longer. “I would never tell you what the boggart said.”

Naruko only lowered his head and suddenly smiled weakly.

“I know,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders. “Only we can't control our fears, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“Don't— I don't want to talk about it. Let's forget it. Just forget it. I'll go crazy if you don't just show me now that everything's okay.”

Imaizumi felt it again. Like it did when his heart skipped a beat and then sped up. His hands were starting to shake and his throat was drying up. And Naruko— God, he was now standing in front of him practically naked, unless you counted the towel on his thighs. Why? Why did Imaizumi have to go through all this?

“It's okay,” he said, not believing his own words. “I— Oh God, I'd hug you, but I'm afraid to touch your skin.”

Naruko blinked in surprise and opened his mouth.

“Why—”

“I'll go crazy,” Imaizumi replied with a sad smile, and Naruko smiled back.

“I believe you.”

Feeling slightly relieved, Imaizumi relaxed and with the same felt an insistent need to lie down and rest for at least five minutes. He really needed it after this crazy cleaning.

So he moved towards his bed. Fell onto his stomach with no energy and lazily fumbled for his watch under his pillow. It was still early, it turned out. Four hours until dinner, he didn't even have to worry about clothes, he could just lie there without moving.

That's what he expected to do, having already dozed off after a minute, but he was brought to his senses by the movement on the mattress. Someone sat down on it. Right next to him. Right now.

“Have you ever seen your bare back?” Naruko asked quietly.

Imaizumi opened his eyes slightly but didn't dare turn his head towards Naruko. There was only a wall with an old tapestry in front of him.

“What are you talking about?” Imaizumi said, closing his eyes again and thinking that Naruko was just going to say some bullshit or joke and then just walk away — but he didn't.

“No, really? Did you look at it in the mirror? At least once.”

“No,” Imaizumi mumbled, burying his face into the pillow and making his arms comfortable underneath it. “What's wrong with it?”

“I don't know. Unless it's too fucking hot?” Naruko replied with a chuckle, and Imaizumi almost laughed too.

“Yeah. What stupid thing will you say next?”

“You want proof too, don't you?” Naruko asked in almost a whisper and leaned in. Imaizumi almost shuddered at that tone, that voice.

He didn't want to think about what would happen next, as if he were afraid again, but he didn't need to, because the situation was moving faster than he could think. Naruko was careful to move in close, but it only took him a measly moment to be on top of Imaizumi and then press his hips into him.

It was like an electric shock. Imaizumi tensed his whole body, feeling, aware of the sure hardness pressing just below his lower back that could only mean one thing.

Naruko had become turned on.

Oh God, he was turned on just by looking at his back? Just from that? Imaizumi almost groaned at such a simple realisation, but then excitement hit his head with renewed vigour, and he didn't care about the reasons anymore.

“Does that convince you?” Naruko asked, pressing his mouth against his ear as Imaizumi turned his head to the side to breathe.

Naruko slowly lowered himself until his whole body was on top of his, and to feel his skin, even if only with his back, was an explosion of emotion. It felt so delicious, it made him want more. Wanted to ask to press harder, to touch or—

“Touch me,” Imaizumi said, barely aware of it, clenching the fabric of the blanket under the pillow in his fists.

“Here?” Naruko asked, his palm resting on his shoulder blade before slowly travelling downwards.

“Anywhere,” Imaizumi replied, realising that he would probably regret it later, and Naruko slid his hot tongue over his ear lobe.

God, if someone comes back from Hogsmeade early— If someone comes in here—

How would they explain themselves?

The thoughts made shivers run through his body, but Imaizumi did nothing, absolutely nothing, to stop. He could throw Naruko off him in a second, but that would mean betraying his feelings because he didn't want to do that — he only wanted to feel the hot body more, the burning palms, one of which— oh, shit... It slid down his side and lower back, unceremoniously snaking under the fabric of the towel. Naruko exhaled noisily — for a second his breathing merged with the cadence of Imaizumi's breath.

“Naruko... if—”

“Wait, give me a minute,” Naruko said hoarsely and pulled the towel down, almost completely freeing Imaizumi's thighs.

The realisation of this action was hazy, all overshadowed by feelings and an almost unbearable desire to shove his hand underneath him, to bring himself to release.

“Just a little more,” Naruko said barely audibly, kissing under his ear and moving.

He untied his towel as well, and then pressed himself into Imaizumi again, this time without any barriers. And it was proving to be too much. Unbearable.

The excitement made him dizzy and his vision darkened. Naruko pressed his face into the back of Imaizumi's head, into his damp hair, breathed even harder, and moved forward.

“It's not true,” he suddenly said through a shaky breath — Imaizumi had the same thing. “It's gonna be all right. It's gonna be all right,” Naruko repeated, and Imaizumi felt his palm sliding over his body again. Trying to move to his stomach and lower.

Lifting his hips to open up a bit of access to himself, surprisingly, turned out to be not scary at all. Imaizumi didn't hold back a short moan as Naruko's fingers clenched, moved down and up, and then it was as if the ability to think switched off. Imaizumi stiffened, tensing with every cell in his body, and tried not to gasp as Naruko fidgeted on top of him, grasping the skin on the back of his neck with his teeth. Another minute or a little more and he groaned, stopped, and Imaizumi shuddered, cumming directly into his palm.

The sensation afterwards was devastating, heavy. In every way. Naruko lay on top of him for a moment longer, trying to catch his breath, before sliding down onto the blanket beside him and wiping his hand with the towel first.

“Sorry,” he said with a chuckle, and a towel was placed on Imaizumi's lower back.

Naruko wiped him off as well, collapsed onto the pillow next to him and sighed again. Imaizumi was beginning to feel a burning sense of shame, but he forced himself to turn his head towards Naruko and kiss him on the cheek.

“We need to clean up,” he said reluctantly. “It would be weird if someone came in and caught us in bed like this.”

“Yeah,” Naruko grinned. “By the way, did you see what the boggart turned into when Professor came in? Those were Nifflers, weren't they?”

“Looks like it,” Imaizumi agreed.

“What do you think it means? Is she afraid of those animals?” Naruko asked.

“Or afraid of being robbed,” Imaizumi snorted. “Maybe she has some treasures. Family heirlooms or something. Something she needs to keep by any means necessary.”

“That's not interesting,” Naruko gave his verdict and reached up and kissed Imaizumi on the lips.

Perhaps Imaizumi was in solidarity with him on that last sentence. Sometimes in life there was something you feared losing more than any material possessions.

Such was the case with this new feeling. A feeling of utter dependence, of doom. Imaizumi really wanted to feel it. To recognise Naruko as his inseparable part, to agonise over his unwillingness to let him go from him, to stop feeling his presence. Needing it so badly, like air.

Chapter Text

The further away he went, the more clearly Imaizumi seemed to be going insane. He was doing things he shouldn't be doing for any rational reason, and he couldn't stop. And even if he enjoyed being in a secret relationship with Naruko to some extent, only a madman would risk saying the same about training to create the magical artefact. Imaizumi, in fact, really wasn't too far from that state of mind. They had been practising for months now, and after each practice, a strange, devastating and very unpleasant feeling settled in his soul.

Imaizumi had understood from the start that creating the right artefact was not a light sorcery, but the first time he saw the process Onoda was demonstrating, he realised how much his assumptions and perceptions differed from reality.

He never thought he would encounter something like this. It went beyond any boundaries of what was permissible, it was the realisation of a sadist's nightmare dream. And if Manami had... repeated this in absolute solitude many weeks before, how strong was his desire to return?

How strong was his patience?

Imaizumi thought about it often. At night, when he couldn't sleep, when the phantom, illusory pain still echoed in his arm. Time after time, he came to the conclusion that no one deserved such endless, prolonged torture, much less a teenager. A person who wasn't even to blame for what had happened to them.

And they — it would be clear to anyone — had to end it all as soon as possible.

It wasn't just that Manami deserved a release and a chance at a normal life. It wasn't just that they were all tired. By going back to this kind of sorcery, by repeating it over and over again, each of them was exposing themselves, or rather their souls, to one of the worst dangers. All because Dark Magic influenced people so much that in the end it could start to change them. And naturally, not for the better. Imaizumi knew this very well, and knew how his parents felt about any use of Dark Magic. This was one of those rare occasions where he agreed with them. No self-respecting wizard would resort to Dark sorcery in their time, but Obscurus itself was the embodiment of darkness, and if there was only one way to lock it up now, Imaizumi was willing to put all sound principles aside. All three of them were willing. For the sake of salvation. For the sake of justice. For the good.

The hardest part was combining Quidditch practice with their artefact practice. The first spell required blood loss and hit the psyche every time — it was impossible to get used to. All three of them, including both Naruko and Onoda, had started eating a lot more sweets in the Great Hall, and it was probably only by a miracle that they managed to regain their strength before Quidditch.

It was no surprise that by the end of March, Imaizumi's desire — and he was sure everyone else's too — for all of this to be over quickly had reached its peak.

And it was a good thing they had already learned how to cast all three spells on the training bracelets made of wood — they could try to make the real magical artefact now, but it was out of place that a new problem had popped up. Which was actually an old one, and it was all about the same Quidditch game. Their final game was scheduled for the end of April, which wasn't unpredictable, but Imaizumi couldn't boast about the certainty that the three of them would be able to attend it. He almost felt that everything would definitely go wrong and the plan would not be executed perfectly — they were going to escape from Hogwarts after all, breaking the rules of the school, fly on broomsticks, breaking the law if they happened to be spotted by Muggles, and then commit Dark sorcery. They would break the record for brazenness and risk. It would be a miracle if they didn't get caught after all.

Imaizumi faintly hoped for a favourable outcome even if he didn't admit it. He imagined the look on his parents' faces when they found out, and he shuddered. They would definitely give him a hard time after this, but it was too late to back down and chicken out. Imaizumi didn't want that even as something came over Onoda and he told him and Naruko that he'd rather not drag the two of them into this. Naruko managed to convince him not to deviate from his original plan, but later the topic of Quidditch was brought up as well, causing Imaizumi to voice his newly thought out idea.

In order to play the final match before they got themselves into trouble, he wanted to move the match to the beginning of the month through Teshima. Onoda was simply shocked by this suggestion. Imaizumi himself still didn't believe that he had actually decided on his desperate scheme, and to avoid making his friends worry, he made up a stupid excuse about the upcoming exams, saying that he was going to push that particular lever. They could use more time to prepare for O.W.L., the seventh-years could use more time to prepare for N.E.W.T., and it would be nice if Quidditch practice ended early. Onoda, of course, panicked immediately, believing that Teshima wasn't so easily fooled, and Imaizumi actually knew it too. He wasn't going to trick Teshima, but he managed to trick Onoda and Naruko. Leaving them in the dark.

After this conversation, he had to gather his courage for another talk, and procrastinating wasn't really an option either. The sooner he spoke to Teshima the better, and Imaizumi really hoped that he had gotten to know him well enough in all this time to be sure that they would understand each other.

He decided to do it during dinner, once the students had left the common room and dorms to go to the Great Hall, and after another Quidditch practice, already in the changing room, Imaizumi took a moment to approach Teshima and said that they needed to talk urgently. Teshima seemed even surprised, but then nodded, probably thinking of something of his own. Imaizumi said he would come to him himself at the beginning of dinner, and only now did he feel real excitement and fear. Because this was the beginning of by far the most difficult and stressful period of his life. He was about to set the machinery in motion himself, and he realised that the first step was one of the most important.

After sending Onoda and Naruko off to dinner, warning them that he would join them later, Imaizumi waited a little while, walking in circles around the dormitory and adjusting himself. One part of him surprisingly wanted Teshima to forget about his request, but unfortunately or not, Teshima remembered everything and politely waited for his visit.

“And what was the urgency?” he asked as Imaizumi tentatively knocked on the door and entered the seventh-year's dormitory. Teshima was sitting on his bed with a magazine in his hand but put it aside as soon as his guest appeared on the doorstep. “I was beginning to think your company was in trouble.”

Not yet, but we're going to.

Imaizumi bit his lip, lowering his gaze at Teshima's slight chuckle.

“I don't know how to tell you this,” Imaizumi grinned unhappily.

“Look, Shunsuke, you're scaring me already,” Teshima said, pointing to the bed across from him. “Sit down and tell it like it is. I promise to react with restraint, whatever it is.”

Imaizumi reluctantly complied. With each step, his excitement grew, and he no longer knew how he would tell the story. He imagined his whole scheme failing, and he didn't even have a backup plan, God. What was he even doing?

“I want to... talk about a proposal that seems... a little strange,” Imaizumi squeezed out as he sat down on the edge of the made bed and looked into Teshima's concerned face for a second.

“I'm listening to you carefully,” the latter said, and a smile could be heard in his voice.

He's in a good mood — maybe it'll work.

“Our final match at the end of April...” Imaizumi began hesitantly, looking at the slightly open dresser drawer from which a scroll of parchment someone had lazily tossed dangled. Probably with a note on Transfiguration. Shit! What did it matter now?

“Yes, I'm well aware of that,” Teshima replied with another quiet chuckle. “Do you have any suggestions for game strategy? If so, you should be more confident — I think you can't have bad ideas.”

“It's not about strategy,” Imaizumi replied, trying to pull himself together — it's really not the time to be a wimp. Not at a time like this. “But I thought it might be a good idea to reschedule the game. To the beginning of the month, for instance.”

“Oh,” Teshima responded in surprise. “Because of the exams? To finish practice and devote time to preparation?”

“That's what I told them,” Imaizumi smiled to his surprise. “Onoda and Naruko.” Teshima raised an eyebrow questioningly. “You know about Sangaku Manami, don't you?”

“What are you getting at?”

“I want to ask you: Do you think he deserves to go back to his regular life? Going to school or playing Quidditch.”

“Er—” Teshima was definitely confused, but he didn't hesitate to answer. “I guess, sure... But why are you talking about it? Is it even possible? His magic is very dangerous, isn't it?”

Imaizumi nodded.

“What if I told you that there's a possibility of controlling his magic? The possibility of creating a thing that will do that.”

“Some sort of magical artefact?” Teshima asked tensely. “What do you know?”

“I know how to make such an artefact,” Imaizumi said, realising that there was no turning back now. He must bring this conversation to an end. “And we, me, Onoda and Naruko, want to try. To do that, we'll have to sneak out of the school. At night and on broomsticks. We'll fly to Manami's place to fulfil our plan.”

In the process of this short explanation, Teshima's face transformed. From puzzlement to complete surprise and almost shock. He blinked as he looked at Imaizumi and opened his mouth soundlessly.

“Are you out of your minds?” Teshima asked huskily. “Someone's going to spot you. Muggles might see you while you're flying — not everyone sleeps at night. That would be breaking the law, not to mention breaking school rules. You're underage—”

“I understand your position perfectly well,” Imaizumi replied, somehow no longer feeling afraid. “It's terribly foolish to take such a risk, but we have to. Me and Naruko. Because Onoda can't do it alone... Creating the artefact is a very difficult process, it's like... a battle with himself. And Onoda is already at his limit, he's already endured too much, and even if he's strong, we have to take the last step together.”

Teshima's face softened. As if embarrassed, he ran a hand through his hair and ruffled it slightly, seemingly thinking about something. Imaizumi mentally pleaded.

“And there's no time, am I right?” Teshima asked, hesitating for a moment.

“We're ready,” Imaizumi replied. “And the sooner we do it the better. As long as we still can. As long as Manami can tolerate it.”

“Oh, hell, that's Onoda's way, you know,” Teshima smiled with a sigh. “Should we not expect you to follow him sooner or later, too? Relying on adults, trusting them, is an unacceptable luxury, isn't it?”

“Even the Headmaster of our school couldn't create the working artefact,” Imaizumi explained. “He suggested that only Manami's magic could achieve the desired result. And Onoda's going to go through it with him, and I'm pretty sure he's willing enough for a working version. He'll put in more than just magic. And so will we.”

“Well,” Teshima said, looking down, “I'm touched that you'd let me in on something so important and— personal. And when exactly are you going to organise this madness?”

“The night of the ninth of April,” Imaizumi replied. “Even if we can create the artefact, the Ministry will be looking at Manami's situation again anyway, with the changes that have been made to it. It will take time for him to be released. God, I sound like he's a criminal in Azkaban.”

Teshima grinned oddly and crossed his legs.

“You know, I thought Gryffindor wasn't a good fit for you, Shunsuke, but the further you go, the more you start to convince me otherwise.”

“Because I'm being noble or something?” Imaizumi asked, almost wincing. No, he didn't want to talk about Gryffindor qualities right now.

“Not only that,” Teshima replied. “You didn't try to deceive me — that's my point.”

Imaizumi blinked in surprise as he looked at his companion, and Teshima smiled again.

“I'd suspect you were hiding something — you're not particularly good at lying, apparently. You can't control your emotions. But you didn't even try to do that. It surprised me, to be honest.”

“But if you—” Imaizumi hesitated. “If you agree to help and talk to the Head, you'll have to lie.”

Teshima laughed.

“I certainly can't brag about being a good Gryffindor. And for the sake of such a charming confession, I don't mind.”

“What, are you serious?” Imaizumi couldn't believe it.

“The Head Boy who held the position before me said that the House should be one family. But we're not just a family, right? We're a team. I know what it's like to fight alongside you, and I love it. I'm not going to leave you when you're facing another battle, whether it's Quidditch or not.”

“Oh,” Imaizumi exhaled stunned, staring at the floor. “That's— Thank you.”

“Thank you for taking Quidditch responsibly,” Teshima replied, and Imaizumi looked up at him.

“Sure. And Onoda promised you something, didn't he?”

“Yeah,” Teshima grinned. “It would be nice to win the Cup on our own, don't you think?”

“I think so too,” Imaizumi smiled.

“Good. Go to dinner, Shunsuke. I'll try to take care of our problem. Count on me,” Teshima said, getting up from the bed and straightening his shirt.

“Um, Junta,” Imaizumi called out to him, standing up hurriedly as Teshima moved towards the exit. “There's something else I wanted to say. About the captaincy next year. I think... I'm ready to accept the position. Well... if I don't get expelled from school.”

Teshima smiled again and nodded.

“I'm glad you've made up your mind.”

* * *

One of the heavy weights fell from his shoulders when, a week later, Teshima, smiling distractedly, announced at practice that the match had indeed been rescheduled for early April due to the fact that many of the team members were taking major exams this year. Thankfully, even the Ravenclaw team had as many as three seventh-years and one fifth-year. The decision seemed to suit everyone, and Imaizumi breathed a sigh of relief, slowly realising that he had at least given himself and his friends a chance to win the Quidditch Cup one more time.

There was no longer any need to go back to the artefact practice — the three of them could spell the item without stumbling, which meant that they could now throw all their energy into their Quidditch training. Onoda seemed to be trying much harder, forgetting at least temporarily about the difficult ordeal, Naruko was catching on to his enthusiasm, and Imaizumi was also feeling a new boost of energy thanks to the two of them.

There were only a few days left before the game when Naruko sprained his wrist in practice. He had a tendency to do that sometimes — he wanted to show off his best Bludger hit and sometimes maimed himself. Imaizumi wrinkled his nose in displeasure, called him a careless fool, and ten minutes later he pulled the muscle himself when he thrown the Quaffle too irritably while passing to Kaburagi.

Teshima stopped the practice match, waved his hand towards the exit of the field and told the two of them to go to the Hospital Wing. Injuries were inopportune before a crucial match, and common sense dictated that they had to obey without question.

Naruko, of course, was outraged. He was always angry when he was kicked out of practice in the middle of it, but Imaizumi grabbed him by the hood with his healthy hand and dragged him into the changing room, ignoring the torrent of curses.

“I have another arm, by the way, I could have finished it!” Naruko was still complaining when they found themselves in the empty changing room.

Imaizumi undid the guard on his right arm and tossed it tiredly onto the bench.

“What were you going to use to hold on to the broomstick? Your stubbornness?”

“Ha! Very clever!” Naruko snorted, doing what Imaizumi had done.

He tried to remove the guard from his left hand as well, but he yelped painfully and bit his lip.

“Give it here, don't use your right,” Imaizumi yanked him towards him and undid the first leather strap. He also had to use mostly his healthy arm. “It hurts me too. And we'd better not injure ourselves even more almost before the Cup game. Are you going to win or what?”

But in response, Naruko did a completely unexpected thing: He suddenly pulled his arm out of the guard that had remained in Imaizumi's hands, grabbed him roughly by the back of his neck and tilted him towards him. They crashed their lips into each other, which came out very awkwardly. Imaizumi gasped and pulled back.

“What kind of idiotic question is that, Hotshot?” Naruko grinned, licking his lips, and the sight of him made Imaizumi shiver. “Naturally, we're going to win — we're the fucking best, we're going to beat everyone.”

“Good,” Imaizumi smiled and busied himself with his other clothes. “But now to the infirmary — only rest today.”

The whole way to the school and to the Hospital Wing was like a blur to Imaizumi. It was the first time he had been so oblivious in a long time, and it was all just because of one brief kiss. We should do that more often when it was over, he thought, hoping they would still be allowed to continue their studies even if caught. Dreams of how Naruko and Onoda would finally start worrying about Manami less and how their lives would change for the better took over spontaneously, and Imaizumi only woke up when their Healer was wrapping his arm in a tight bandage after applying the ointment. Naruko, of course, took a little longer to deal with, and the bandage was different. After the proper care had been given, Madam Bland told them to come back to see her tomorrow, but until then, not to strain their injured limbs in any way. She left the infirmary on some business of her own, leaving the two of them alone, and Imaizumi only now realised that there really wasn't another soul here. The room was empty, and the rows of identical made-up beds were almost soothing and conjured up thoughts of sleep.

“I'm going to be captain next year,” Imaizumi confessed suddenly, touching on the topic for the first time.

Naruko broke away from looking at his cast and jumped on the blanket of a nearby bed. He had sat down on it to drink a special potion and Imaizumi was across from him, waiting until they could leave together.

“Wow, that's amazing! I congratulate you!” Naruko exclaimed and jumped down from his seat and swooped over to hug Imaizumi.

“Are you that happy?” Imaizumi asked, involuntarily surprised by such a wild reaction. “Or are you kidding me?” he added with a squint.

Naruko laughed out loud and sat down next to him, leaving one leg in Imaizumi's lap.

“What's that? I knew Teshima would pick you and you'd accept. It's a cool position and you'd look cool in it. Captain Shunsuke,” Naruko said, infusing the last words with a special intonation.

“And you wouldn't want that post?” Imaizumi asked, to which Naruko mumbled thoughtfully.

“I would, maybe, but organising and all that formal stuff is so boring and tedious. It's more suited to you.”

“Okay, thanks for the boring and tedious,” Imaizumi grinned. “But I'm going to need an assistant.”

“What are you implying, huh?” Naruko smiled wryly, poking him with his elbow. “I'm expensive, you know. Are you sure you have enough?”

“Money?” Imaizumi raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I accept kisses, too,” Naruko said, giving him a shy look, and burst into laughter again. “Sorry, that was the dumbest joke in my arsenal. I won't turn down a Butterbeer on you every time we go to Hogsmeade.”

“Deal,” Imaizumi replied, holding out his palm to Naruko.

The latter glanced at his cast and with another chuckle, poked Imaizumi in the shoulder with his healthy hand.

* * *

His head was buzzing and dizzy, with hazy images in front of his eyes. Too much, too much blood, Imaizumi repeated to himself, not knowing why. His legs weakened and he collapsed, struggling to keep himself at least in a sitting position. To his right, Naruko, who had recently been clinging to his elbow, was lying on the grass, but Imaizumi didn't have the energy to ask how he was doing — what was the point — of course he felt terrible — or to ask if they had successfully completed the sorcery. It was so bad it was nauseating, and Imaizumi tilted his head, trying to wait for him to throw up, but it kept not happening. He was panting, unable to regain his breath, and his heart wouldn't calm down, beating at breakneck speed.

There was a rustle somewhere ahead. The voices of Manami and Onoda were unintelligible, and if Imaizumi tried to listen, his head began to spin even more and the attack of nausea repeated itself. What were they doing? Were they sealing the magical artefact? Was it working? Did they still have the power to do that?

Imaizumi didn't know, but a little while later he slowly began to come round. Manami said thank you, thanked them — that meant it was okay, they'd made it through, but Imaizumi, raising his hand for a couple of seconds, hardly felt any relief. They'd all lost a lot of blood because the first stage of sorcery had to be repeated, and before they'd even escaped the school, they'd run into a Slytherin who, even though Naruko had stunned him with the spell, could have easily woken up by now and reported them to one of the adults.

What were they supposed to do now? They couldn't even stand up, let alone walk back to school on their own.

Turning away and resting his palms on the grass, Imaizumi squeezed his eyes shut, feeling more disgusted than ever, and vomited. He still felt like his hand was bleeding — though it was completely fine, the sensation was startling in its reality, making him believe in something that wasn't there.

When another bout of dizziness attacked, he felt sorry for himself and let himself lie down, face buried in the coolness of the barely sprouted grass. He wanted to fall asleep right now, to pass out, to forget, and he thought he was really asleep and dreaming when new voices came to his ears. Other people's. Adult voices. The Headmaster of their school? People from the Ministry? Who? Imaizumi never realised, and then just passed out, either on his own or with someone else's help.

When, after a while, he slowly began to come round and wake up, it was still hard to tell. The bed was different, not like the one in the Gryffindor dormitory — softer and more comfortable. And it was... familiar. Shit.

Realising this, Imaizumi sat up abruptly but immediately received a dizzy feeling from his body in response. However, it was quickly forgotten as soon as he saw where he was. He wanted to curse from the bottom of his heart because this was his room. His room in his parents' house. He was home. He had been taken home. But when had all this happened? How had he managed to sleep through everything without noticing? And where was Naruko now? Onoda, Manami?

Not knowing what to do, Imaizumi leaned back tiredly on the pillows, pressed his wrist to his forehead and noticed the bandage. There was pain underneath, but it was only now being discovered, and sitting up again, he hastily unwrapped the bandages. On the outside of his arm, a little below the elbow Imaizumi saw a decent sized black spot and winced when he touched it lightly with his fingers. Some of the Obscurus energy, it turns out, had hit him while they were conjuring, but right now it was hard to remember exactly when it had happened.

From all this he could draw conclusions: The Healers must have examined him and, finding nothing serious, allowed his parents (Imaizumi grimaced again) to take him home. God, that was just a terrible option. They knew everything. They knew, and he wouldn't be able to get away with it when they saw each other, and it would surely be soon...

Pushing the blanket aside, Imaizumi climbed out of bed and quickly walked over to the desk. His head was no longer dizzy, and he felt quite tolerable. His mother had probably changed him into his pyjamas, his robe and other clothes were out of sight, and his wand was found near a tray with a carafe of water and plates covered with napkins. Imaizumi threw them off, clutched the wand in his hand, feeling a little more confident with it, and cast warming charms on the porridge.

It seemed to take him forever to eat. The food was tasty, revitalising, but still no appetite. His arm ached from the black stain and made it hard to forget what had happened. One thing was comforting — the artefact had been created, and Manami had found a chance at a new life. Right? Isn't that right?

Thinking about it, Imaizumi felt an incomprehensible shiver sweep over him. Fear. Seeing Manami a year later, seeing him trying to smile and be cheerful and not give in to his own fears, Imaizumi realised that nothing would ever be the same again. And neither would his personal attitude towards this boy.

There was no such chance now, of course, and there was no telling when he'd get one, but he really, really wanted to take a promise from Manami that things would get better for him as much as they could, though on the other hand, it was such a foolish wish. What did it matter how well their magical artefact worked if a wizard with Obscurus couldn't live a long, full life anyway?

The realisation hit a nerve, a lump in his throat, and Imaizumi pushed his plate away from him. He took a couple of sips of water from the glass, and once again he thought he was going to throw up. God, what did he have to do to make things go back to the way they were? To make things right. How would Onoda cope when Manami did die in the distant or not-so-distant future? How would Naruko feel? How would he, Imaizumi himself, feel?

The questions evoked nothing but renewed despair. Seemingly having dealt with one problem, they had stumbled upon another, which, in fact, had been there before, never going anywhere, but for some reason Imaizumi stubbornly did not notice it.

Overwhelmed by the depressing thoughts finally, he went into the bathroom to take a cool shower, but it hardly helped distract himself. Wiping his hair with a towel and tying on a warm dressing gown, Imaizumi stepped back into the spacious room he so didn't want to be in right now, and regretted stepping out the second he did. His mother was standing in the doorway. With her arms folded across her chest, in a formal dress, she seemed like a taut string, and even her face was frozen in an expression of tension that Imaizumi had never noticed in her even when they had quarreled over their different worldviews.

“Woke up,” she said dryly as she made her way inside. “How are you feeling? The Healer said there are no serious problems, but the mark on your arm—” Her voice shook at that point, but she tried to pull herself together. “It will fade with time.”

“It's okay,” Imaizumi replied, forcing himself. He realised that this restraint of his mother's was only temporary. A little more and it would start...

“Have you eaten?” his mother asked, glancing at the table and nodding as if to herself. “Good. So, can we talk? Will you tell me what you've been doing? Or better, how you've been thinking? Why your father and I get an emergency call in the middle of the night and nearly go crazy with panic when we find out our child is— in a place where no one is allowed to be without permission? In such a dangerous place with that—” Mom grimaced in unconcealed disgust. “That boy is an Obscurial. He's a dark creature. Unpredictable and terribly dangerous.”

“A creature,” Imaizumi grinned unhappily. “He's a human being, Mom. A human being. Just like you or me. And it's not his fault that this happened to him.”

“That human being if that's what you want could have killed you,” Mom replied sharply, and it was clear she was beginning to get irritated. “You're a clever boy, Shunsuke. You knew it. You knew it perfectly well, but you went there anyway. You risked your life, and for what?”

“To save him, obviously. Or is that so hard to guess?”

“You're so—” Mom pressed her lips together, then waved her hand nervously. “Not like us at all. Your own life is what you should prioritise. You're our only child. What were we supposed to do if you—”

“I have friends,” Imaizumi replied, stopping by the desk and sitting down on the edge. “There are people who are dear to me, and I couldn't leave them without help.”

“Friends?” Mom snorted.

“Friends,” Imaizumi agreed. “What? You're not familiar with the term?”

“These guys dragged you into a terribly reckless and dangerous adventure!” Mom raised her tone. “Is that what you call friendship? Risking your lives together? As if you had some great purpose! And you... you've turned to Dark Witchcraft. I'm terribly disappointed. In this school, in the Headmaster. Your father and I thought you'd be safe there.”

“What, are you going to keep me safe forever?” Imaizumi grimaced, turning his face away. “You can't protect me from all the danger anyway, and I'm no longer a child who can't—”

“No, you're a child, Shunsuke,” his mother said, interrupting him. “A real child — you proved it with your last act. Proved that we still can't trust you. Hogwarts was supposed to take care of you until you grew up enough, but it failed to do so. And I don't understand where the Headmaster was looking. How could he let something like this happen? It just doesn't make sense. Three students could have died because of him. And if two of them are worthless—”

“Shut up,” Imaizumi boiled in one second. His mother's words had pissed him off even though he was trying to stay calm. But to hear what she had said was over the top. “Shut up. Don't you dare talk about them like that. They're worth— the whole world. They're wonderful, no matter what their backgrounds or how rich their families are.”

“Wonderful enough to run away from school with them to practice Dark Magic?” Mom asked with an irritated twitch of her eyebrow. “People who embrace darkness, who are willing to let it into their hearts, can't be— wonderful. Darkness can warp your mind, your views.”

“We did it for a good cause,” Imaizumi objected.

“For the good of the Obscurial boy being allowed to live in society again?” Mom grinned. “Is that what you're saying? The Headmaster of Hogwarts is a fool if he thinks the Ministry would go for that.”

“What did you say?” Imaizumi asked, tensing his whole body.

“You know very well who will have the last word. And your Headmaster won't be able to influence anything if there's no one on his side. It's not up to him to decide.”

“You wouldn't dare,” Imaizumi said icily, and Mom dramatically splayed her hands, pretending to be fed up with the situation.

“I wouldn't dare? What did you expect, tell me? That the Ministry would obligingly give this boy a ticket back to Hogwarts?”

“If the artefact works, why not?” Imaizumi asked, beginning to shake with panic.

“Your boasted artefact doesn't negate the fact that this boy has Obscurus in him with terrifying power. I'll be against it. So will your father. We won't allow something that dangerous to be in the same school with you—”

“No!” Imaizumi objected, clenching his fists. “Don't do anything against him!”

With fury, he barely noticed his damp post-shower hair stirring, whereupon his mom gasped, covered herself with her hands, and jerked back as if pushed by some force. At the same moment, the two decorative vases that stood on the elevations on either side of the door exploded and shattered into shards.

Imaizumi shuddered with fear. Fury was replaced by anxiety — he realised that he had done this himself.

“Or what?” Mom asked in a trembling voice and slowly lowered her hands. Her eyes were watering. “Will you hurt me? Hurt your mother?”

Imaizumi didn't have time to say anything in response. And would he have been able to? He was startled by his own outburst of magic, frightened that he had snapped, lost control. Almost attacked his mom...

She left, closing the door behind her, not even allowing him to justify himself. Imaizumi sat down helplessly on the chair, clutching the backrest, and realised he was ready to cry himself. He felt scared. Scared and bad.

He sat, practically bent in half, for several minutes. Maybe ten, maybe all of twenty, until the door opened again. He jumped up, thinking Mom had come back and he could apologise, but it wasn't her. It was his father.

Walking up to Imaizumi, he grabbed him by the collar of his dressing gown without a word and pulled him to his feet.

“What are you going to do next, you little brat?” his father asked in a hoarse, angry voice, looking straight into his eyes, and Imaizumi's heart dropped with a new wave of fear. “Never. Don't you ever dare use magic against your mother again, do you understand me?”

“I didn't mean to—” Imaizumi barely audibly said, and his father let go of him, pushing him backwards.

“She genuinely cares for you. You scared her to death with your antics, and now what? Is it because of that Obscurial? Why are you clinging to him, huh? Explain it to me.”

Imaizumi sobbed shamefully, feeling boundless shame for his emotions, and wiped his nose with his hand.

“He's my— friend,” he said without looking at his father, and the latter exhaled as if with a bitter chuckle.

“Like the other two? We left you to your own devices — and look what happened. You're making connections with the wrong people. But that's okay. When you graduate, we'll keep a better eye on you and who you're friends with.”

Imaizumi bit his lip to the point of pain, struggling to hold back tears.

“Let it be. Just for now... don't stand against him. Please.”

His father was silent for a few seconds, just standing by his side, then suddenly said, “His father studied with us. Do you know what he did?”

Imaizumi blinked in surprise and looked at his father. The latter continued,

“It was in senior year. He blew up half the common room. Just for no reason. Apparently for fun.”

“But children are far from always like their parents, aren't they?” Imaizumi asked.

“Yes, sometimes they are worse,” his father replied, then turned around and walked towards the exit. “I'm ashamed of you, Shunsuke,” he said before he left and slammed the door behind him.

Imaizumi, hardly relieved, sat back down on his chair and clutched at the folds of the dressing gown on his chest, feeling his heart beating hard.

After that, his mother didn't visit him anymore, and seemed to be avoiding him altogether. She was always at work, and Imaizumi hung around the house, waiting for his week of expelling, which he had learnt about from his father, to be over. These days seemed worse than creating the magical artefact. Imaizumi felt cut off from the world, not sending letters to Naruko or Onoda, realising that the owl simply wouldn't have time to deliver a reply back. Those two were likely expelled for some period of time as well, and Imaizumi could only hope it wasn't longer than a week like he had.

He was brought back to school on Sunday night, through the Floo network. Dinner seemed to be over by now, and that was confirmed when he entered the noisy common room where the guys from his House were chatting animatedly. Imaizumi tried to ignore the interested looks in his direction. Some even tried to talk to him, but they were stopped by others and it made him feel so sick. It looked like he wouldn't be able to avoid unwanted attention in the coming days, but Teshima, who met him on the way, squeezed his shoulder for a few seconds and smiled weakly, making him feel a little better. He thankfully didn't ask any questions — he understood that Imaizumi didn't want to talk now, and then the stairs greeted him with silence.

Imaizumi went up to his dorm, opened the door and gasped. Naruko was here. Met his gaze and immediately jumped off the bed to come over and give him a hug.

“Hey. Is everything okay?” he asked, burying his face just below his neck. “I just got back today too.”

Imaizumi, unable to even hug back, looked around the dorm and realised they were the only ones here for now.

“And Sakamichi?” he asked quietly.

“I was at the Headmaster's office,” Naruko said, stepping back. “Sakamichi has been expelled for a month.”

“A month? What?” Imaizumi frowned, not believing it. “Why so long?”

“Because—” Naruko started, but lost his way, looking down at his feet. “He kind of put us at risk. Shouldn't have pulled us in and everything. Because of that and because of the repeated escape.”

“Great,” Imaizumi exhaled irritably and made his way to his bed. He noticed his broom near the wall and only now realised that he hadn't thought of it until now. “Your parents—”

“My parents were freaking out. Especially my mom, of course,” Naruko answered from behind him. “And they took a lot of points from the House. We're kind of in last place in the competition for the School Cup now.”

“Mine too,” Imaizumi winced and sat down tiredly on the edge of the bed, not even wanting to think about the lost points. It just seemed like a ridiculous problem amidst everything else. “And what about Manami? Did he write anything at all?”

“I sent him and Sakamichi the owls. I'm waiting for a reply, but so far nothing.”

“I see,” Imaizumi replied, running his fingers through his hair like he had a headache. Though it was really starting to.

“What?” Naruko asked worriedly and lowered himself onto the bed next to him. His palm rested on Imaizumi's shoulder, and it made his heart ache so painfully that he wanted to moan.

“I just—” Imaizumi said, feeling himself start to shiver. “I can't do this anymore. I'm a psycho and a pathetic weakling.”

“What's wrong? Will you explain it to me?” Naruko demanded, seemingly worried beyond belief.

Imaizumi bit his lip but realised that he could barely hold back the tears.

“I snapped at my mother...” he admitted with difficulty, covering his face with his hands. “I accidentally used magic, I almost... I don't know. Maybe she was even hurt. But she said such horrible things. I just couldn't control myself.”

“Hey, shh,” Naruko whispered, lifting up on his knees and hugging him again.

Imaizumi snuggled into his shoulder, feeling bitter tears burn his cheeks.

“I'm doing everything wrong. I'm messing everything up.”

“Not at all, stop it,” Naruko asked, stroking his head. “We made the artefact, didn't we? Together. The Headmaster said he was even shocked. This stuff really works. Just a few little things left and Manami would be released.”

“What if this doesn't happen?” Imaizumi asked, gripping Naruko's elbows with trembling hands. “What if they won't let him go just because I interfered in this case? I provoked my parents. They're furious. They might—”

Naruko slowly pulled away, and as he looked at him, Imaizumi saw, to his dismay, expressions of displeasure and almost despair.

“Then we'll have to rely on others,” Naruko said, looking down. “There's nothing more we can do.”

“I'm sorry,” Imaizumi said in a shaky voice.

“It has nothing to do with you!” Naruko said sharply, looking at him, and then stopped talking just as sharply. “Shunsuke... are you what? Are you seriously crying?”

“I'm not—” Imaizumi tried to quickly wipe his eyes, but Naruko gently wrapped his fingers around his wrist.

“Don't. Don't give up on everything right now. It's not time yet. I'm still grateful that you came with us. Sakamichi too, I'm sure. You've been a great help, so please don't blame yourself.”

“Even for being a coward?” Imaizumi asked quietly, lowering his hands.

“What do you mean? In front of what?” Naruko asked, confused.

“In front of the future.”

“The future? Are you talking about us? Tell me, are you talking about us?”

“Yes. Yes, I mean us,” Imaizumi replied to the demanding request. “Because of my parents...”

“So?” Naruko grimaced. “You want to break up because your parents won't accept our relationship? Mine won't either, but we'll be adults soon, and then it won't matter, will it?”

“I don't know,” Imaizumi replied hopelessly, wishing this awful conversation would end, even if he had started it himself. Idiot. He'd rather not say anything. Better to suffer alone than to drag Naruko into this.

“But you knew they'd be against it!” Naruko blurted out. “Oh, damn you, I can't believe you don't even want to fight for us!”

He angrily jumped up from the bed and headed for the exit, seemingly unwilling to listen to anything else. Imaizumi called out to him, but to no avail — Naruko had already slammed the door on his way out, and this action made him feel even lousier. So lousy that he wanted to cry like a child.

But it wasn't like that, not at all like Naruko had said. Imaizumi wanted to fight — he didn't have the strength for it.

Chapter Text

Naruko's owl flew in early in the morning. It had knocked on the window and ruthlessly woke him up after a nearly sleepless night. It had no way of knowing that the recipient was terribly tired, of course; it was busy with its work and, despite everything, it was still a welcome guest. Imaizumi was always in a hurry when it came to mail... of that nature. It didn't matter who wrote, Naruko or Onoda, he looked forward to their letters and if for some reason he couldn't open the envelope and read the message right away, he started to get nervous.

This time, too, he jumped out of bed instantly to open the window, sleepy and dishevelled, and let the bird into the room. The owl hopped onto the desk and lifted a paw to which was tied not an envelope but a small, twisted note. The short message was written in slightly more nervous handwriting than usual, but it instantly warmed his soul and made him smile.

'Tuesday is best. I'll expect you by twelve,' Naruko said in the note, and Imaizumi mentally counted down the remaining days. Three. Three more days and they would see each other.

It was still an ordeal, really. Forcing himself to overcome the embarrassment, to forget about the pride that had long since been meaningless — it was still just a shadow of an old habit and still had its power. But they both wanted to meet during the summer holidays — that was clear as day.

Even before the Hogwarts Express that took all the students to London, Naruko had hinted at it by saying that his parents were going to be working all summer causing them to have a family trip cancelled again, but that wasn't such a terrible omission, as he said later and looked meaningfully at Imaizumi. Naruko had expected and was sure his mother would keep him home as punishment for the April escapade when they had run away from school on broomsticks to make the magical artefact. Imaizumi listened carefully, and when he was home again, he asked Naruko about a possible meeting in his first letter.

The plan was simple. To choose the best day convenient for both of them, agree on a time, and then use the Floo Network at the right moment. Imaizumi knew his parents would have questions afterwards because their fireplace was monitored to track every use, but that didn't stop him — there wasn't much of a choice. Either meet Naruko this way, or contemplate trickier options, or wait again until the start of the new term, and Imaizumi didn't want to wait that long.

It wasn't until the third week of July that a date was agreed upon. By then, the longing for school and friends had reached almost its maximum level, and the anticipation of seeing at least Naruko was the only escape. Every day Imaizumi thought about Hogwarts. The moments of the past few months were especially vivid in his mind: their Quidditch victory but the loss of the School Cup, their difficult ordeal with the creation of the artefact, the choice of subjects for the remaining two years of study, the preparation for the O.W.L. and the stress of taking the exams in the presence of the visiting examiners, Naruko's hurt looks, his hot lips kissing stubbornly, as if to spite the world. Imaizumi didn't resist. He felt like a desperate madman who had lost his fear of being caught, allowed each time, responded, put his throat under the almost dangerous fangs. To be deprived of that because of the holidays was tantamount to being deprived of air.

The exam results had been sent by letter not too long ago. Imaizumi placed the envelope in front of his parents without even opening it and silently walked away without waiting for a follow-up conversation. He didn't really care. He had passed as best he could, and he was pretty sure he got high grades anyway. It was hard to say the same for Naruko and Onoda, of course, but neither of them, including Imaizumi, had the energy to study for the exams properly, so it would be foolish to be surprised by possibly poor results. One could only hope that their grades weren't so terrible that it wouldn't allow them to get their chosen classes — Imaizumi certainly didn't have that problem, but he had other problems.

Manami, for one, or the fact that he didn't know what to do about his relationship with Naruko. Though the Ministry had taken the new circumstances into consideration, they'd been procrastinating too long on a decision anyway. Until now. Imaizumi had no idea what they were doing or thinking — he dared not ask his parents, and it was only through Naruko and Manami's correspondence, which began after April, that he could learn that nothing had changed. The realisation of this made him desperately furious. Imaizumi didn't want to admit that perhaps all their efforts had been in vain in the end, but there was nothing else to do for now, and he honestly didn't know how he would console Onoda if Manami was never allowed to return to school.

Naruko was complicated, too. Ambiguous. Imaizumi felt he wouldn't be forgiven for being weak, and Naruko did take offence. And despite this he himself intercepted him at the bathroom or any other place where people weren't around, hugged him tightly, almost to the point where he couldn't breathe, and kept quiet. Kept quiet too often. Imaizumi didn't know how to interpret it, didn't know how to behave, and gave in again to his desires, to the call of his heart, which demanded to squeeze in a return embrace, to bury his nose in hair smeared with styling gel. It was better in those moments, but afterwards there was always a sense of doom and longing. Imaizumi didn't want to remember the fact that he probably wouldn't dare continue this after graduation, didn't want to remind Naruko of it, but he couldn't forget it either. There were more reasons — not just cowardice and wanting to live a quiet life, really. Manami should have been one of those reasons too, and Imaizumi should have been responsible. He was not to provoke his parents in any way to cause unnecessary trouble for his friends. Yes, Manami was the primary concern because Imaizumi still had a faint belief that they could get their way.

He didn't know if changes would happen by the start of the new school year, and he was going to talk to his parents in the next month. Exhorting them, if need be, to do something he so disliked doing. There just didn't seem to be any other option.

But now, if only for one day, he wanted to give himself a drop of selfish happiness and waited with bated breath for the time when he could walk over to the fireplace, scoop up the Floo powder, and say the cherished address. Imaizumi had never been to Naruko's house before and could only try to imagine what he would see, but he had no doubt that the picture would be completely different from what he was used to in his own home. Naruko's would likely be much more cramped. The furniture and belongings would likely be inexpensive but would undoubtedly create a unique cosiness. One could guess that, remembering that Naruko's family lived in a small town in the very north of England where almost only wizards had settled down — there were almost no Muggles there, and apparently they lived far enough away to avoid seeing the local wizarding children practicing flying their first enchanted brooms.

Imaizumi had the opportunity to fly and practice too, but he rarely went near his broom during holidays because it wasn't the same without Naruko and Onoda. It was like Quidditch lost its meaning without them, and it was such a damn shame that Onoda wasn't going to be playing on the team for the remaining two years of school. They needed to find candidates for the new Seeker, but just before exams, luckily a couple of willing candidates volunteered, including a short third-year and their fellow student Miki. They would be participating in tryouts at the start of the new term, and the thought of it, to be honest, made something inside Imaizumi clench unpleasantly. He didn't want change, didn't want to adjust to it, but life was relentlessly changing without asking for his wishes, and all that was left was to try to get used to it and find the strength to accept the new reality.

When Tuesday morning finally came, the first thing Imaizumi did, after asking one of the house-elves, was to make sure his parents were at work. Before they returned, he had the perfect opportunity to sneak out of the house and not think about the fact that they'd found out about his excommunication for at least a few hours. They would find out, of course, but in the evening, and then he would figure out how to deal with the problem. Right now his thoughts were all about one thing, and they were so overwhelming that they prevented him from doing even the most ordinary things, like eating breakfast or choosing clothes: While he was spreading nut butter on crispy toast, the teapot was boiling because of the accidental magic due to excitement, and when he tried to find his favourite and most comfortable trousers, it completely slipped his mind that he had given them to the house-elf for laundry yesterday.

Imaizumi thought he wouldn't make it to the appointed time, but he pulled himself together and quickly tidied up his clothes. The hardest part after that was getting to one of the living rooms on the ground floor, where there was a fireplace connected to the Floo Network. There, Imaizumi lit the fire, took a vase of Floo powder from the shelf, and took a deep breath before pouring it into his palm. It wasn't like he was doing anything that required such nervousness, really. Feeling terribly foolish, he irritably smoothed his hair and finally turned the vase over. There was too much Floo powder, some of it spilling out onto the floor. Imaizumi cursed and threw a handful into the fire, which instantly turned it green. The blazing flames somehow made him feel brave, and he was even confident enough to step into the fireplace. Imaizumi called out the address — and the whirlwind immediately swirled him around. He didn't really like this kind of travelling, but Naruko was waiting at the other end of the way, and that pushed aside any unpleasant feelings.

When it was over and Imaizumi stepped forward to step out in a different place, the first thing he had to notice was the smell of freshly baked goods. He opened his eyes, which he squeezed shut tighter to keep out the ash, and almost immediately was confronted with a disgruntled look. Naruko was standing right in front of him. With an indignant look and arms folded across his chest. He was so... familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. He was dishevelled and wearing a silly outfit that was so reminiscent of the Muggle clothes Onoda sometimes wore.

“What?” Imaizumi asked, starting to feel uncomfortable. “You're looking at me like I dropped your broom.”

Naruko twitched an eyebrow. It was as if he was warning of an attack, and the next second, he was off the ground. Imaizumi didn't even have time to step back before Naruko pounced on him, jumped on him, hugging him tightly around the neck with his arms and wrapping his legs around his waist. Imaizumi staggered from that tug, and on automatic, he grabbed, pulling Naruko even tighter against him, and nuzzled into his hair behind his ear, finally beginning to realise. He's right next to him. This is reality, and he's near.

“You're two minutes late, asshole,” Naruko muttered discontentedly, and Imaizumi realised he couldn't hold back a smile. God, he was going to die of happiness.

Naruko hung on to him for probably another minute or two, and it was only when he deigned to unhook himself and stand back up on the floor that Imaizumi was able to take a quick look around. He found himself in a small room that resembled a living room. The ceiling was much lower, the walls were covered in warm peach wallpaper with an intricate curling pattern, and the brown armchairs and couch were torn in places by the cat. Speaking of the cat: Dragon Claw was here, too. Sitting on the armrest, paws tucked up, as if preparing to jump too. She looked at the guest with curiosity and waved her red tail vigorously.

“Eyes on me,” Naruko said sternly, grabbing Imaizumi by the cheeks and turning his face to his own.

Imaizumi faced the demanding gaze, but Naruko suddenly closed his eyes and reached up. Without words, Imaizumi leaned in and let their lips meet. The kiss was rushed and greedy — Naruko pulled away too sharply, stepped back, and only then did the familiar stomping sound come from somewhere in the distance.

“Shunsuke!” Shingo burst into the room with a cheerful shout.

He swooped down on Imaizumi in much the same way his older brother had a moment earlier, except he didn't jump on top of him, but he still hugged him tightly with his arms.

“Er— hello,” Imaizumi said confused, not expecting to see someone else so soon.

“I knew you'd come to visit! This is so cool!”

“You knew? Really?”

“Yep! Shou was so much looking forward to seeing someone this morning — I thought of you right away!” Shingo said cheerfully, and blushing Naruko grabbed him by the collar of his clothes from behind and pulled him back.

“Hey, don't make things up! Nothing like that ever happened! And not a word to mom, do you understand me?”

Shingo squealed funny, trying to break free and run away as Naruko started tickling him and Imaizumi was able to spot someone else. A third brother who was a year younger and seemed to be a little shorter than Shingo. He was shy and only peeked out a little from behind the doorjamb, to which Imaizumi again couldn't help but smile.

“Will you fly broomsticks with me? We can throw the ball around!” Shingo distracted him again, starting to tug on Imaizumi's shirt sleeve.

“No way! He came to me, not you!” Naruko was indignant, pulling his brother away again. “You two stay in the kitchen and keep watch.”

“Shou!” Shingo groaned resentfully. “This isn't fair! Why should we?”

“Because I'll give you my pocket money for a month in September,” Naruko said irritably, and Shingo's mood quickly changed.

“Deal!” he responded, running towards the exit.

Grabbing his younger brother by the arm, he quickly disappeared, leaving Imaizumi and Naruko alone again. The stomping of feet soon died down, it was quiet again, though the blush on Naruko's cheeks went nowhere.

“Bribery, huh?” Imaizumi smirked.

“And you wanted to spend the whole day with them?” Naruko snorted resentfully, turning away.

“I wouldn't mind,” Imaizumi replied, stepping towards him and squeezing one of the red strands sticking out with his fingers. “But with you, I want more.”

Naruko turned to respond with an indignant look but quickly smiled and, taking Imaizumi's hand, invited him to follow. Imaizumi followed silently and without resistance. And as they walked across the room and to the stairs to the first floor, he finally began to notice more. The fact that the house really did have its own special atmosphere, the fact that there was just a bunch of different things in all the corners, lots of toys, and also flowers. Imaizumi's mom didn't like flowers — in their house there was always strict order and every thing matched everything else, but in Naruko's house it was the opposite. This charming mess gave birth to the warmest feelings in the soul, and Imaizumi wanted to examine the whole house in the smallest detail, but he tried not to be impudent.

Naruko led him up the dark carpet to his room, the third door from the stairs to the right, and Imaizumi felt like he was in a different reality. No, actually, he had expected something like this. Red in colour, lots of different sized dragon figures that moved and one even flew under the ceiling. The walls, too, were expectedly covered with posters of the England team Naruko had been rooting for — the team members in red and white raced on their fast brooms, passed the ball to each other or performed some showy tricks. The suitcase that Naruko always travelled to school with was lying open against the wall, books and parchments sticking out of the inside, as if it had been abandoned here since the beginning of July and forgotten. Firebolt stood in a place of honour near the headboard of the bed, next to it on the floor, also an open Broomstick Servicing Kit. His bats were stored in a special bag, but a couple of them were still lying carelessly on the floor near a tall wooden cabinet, the doors of which had funny enchanted mirrors on them — Imaizumi saw his reflection wrong: His hair was green for some reason and his skin colour had turned bright pink.

“The room is certainly not super, but there is no other,” Naruko laughed awkwardly, taking the magazines from the bed and placing them on the desk, which was cluttered with junk. He accidentally touched a fat red bird hovering over the countertop, and it squawked in a nasty voice for a while.

“It's your room,” Imaizumi replied, shrugging. “I would've liked it anyway.”

“I don't know,” Naruko said, stopping by the window and pulling back the sheer curtain. “Honestly, I didn't want to invite you here. It's... not the best environment for someone like you.”

“What do you mean?” Imaizumi asked, coming closer. “Are you insinuating my origins again?”

“I didn't mean to offend you,” Naruko replied, glancing briefly at Imaizumi. “That's not the point. I just knew that your presence here would remind me of how different worlds we live in.”

Imaizumi looked out his window and saw a small vegetable garden with manicured beds in the back of the house, which ended in a green lawn and a wooden fence. When he looked out his window, he could see a lush garden spreading out in all directions from the manor.

“And that bothers you?” Imaizumi asked quietly.

“I thought it would bother you,” Naruko said as he lowered the curtain. “I don't know how to show you all this.”

“You don't have to at all,” Imaizumi sighed. “I didn't come here to look at your house and its surroundings. It would be nice to take a walk outside, but I… don't have a lot of time, and I don't think that in the near future—”

“I get it, I get it,” Naruko interrupted, pressing a fist against his chest. “I'm not waiting for you anytime soon. Yeah, I want to spend some time with you too, somewhere where we wouldn't be disturbed. Are you hungry?”

Imaizumi smiled weakly.

“No. I had breakfast not long ago. Maybe later in the day.”

“Later is later,” Naruko snorted and went to his bed again. He sat down on the fluffy red duvet, tucking a leg under him, and beckoned Imaizumi with a finger. “Have you been in touch with Sakamichi?”

“Yes, once. Nothing good,” Imaizumi nodded and sank down on the bed opposite Naruko as well. “He didn't even say anything about the exams.”

“Don't ask me about mine,” Naruko grumbled, turning his face away and looking at one of the posters, where an English national team Beater was smiling and tossing a bat in the air under the flickering lights.

“Did my expectations come true?” Imaizumi smiled slightly, though there was hardly any cause for mirth here.

“I thought I would be under house arrest for a week, but my mom saw my grades and left me for the whole summer! Imagine that!”

“But you moved up to sixth year, didn't you?”

“Of course I did. Otherwise I'd be looking for a job by now instead of staying at home. Do they take dumb people in Quidditch?” Naruko asked.

“I certainly wouldn't,” Imaizumi replied, and they grinned at each other.

“I don't know about you, but I'm definitely not going to work for the Ministry," Naruko snorted, still smiling. “Apparently, they're full of retards.”

“Is it because of Manami?”

“Yeah. Why else? No, seriously, I don't see why they're dragging this out. They could have made a decision by now!”

“Yeah, I agree with that,” Imaizumi nodded tensely. “I don't know what's going on at the Ministry right now, but I'm going to talk to my parents. There's no point in waiting any longer.”

“Really?” Naruko blinked. “Aren't you—”

“I was afraid of making things worse, but it's not long before August and then the start of the new school year.”

“Yeah. The little one's already got his letter. Soon we'll be getting letters about our new textbooks… Thank you.”

“Don't thank me, I haven't done anything yet,” Imaizumi asked.

“I don't care,” Naruko shook his head. “You know how much this means to me.”

“I know,” Imaizumi nodded weakly. “And you better stop blaming yourself. You were influenced by magic, that's all. You wouldn't have been—”

“Such an asshole with Manami?” Naruko grinned.

“Such an asshole with Manami,” Imaizumi agreed, smiling wryly. “Especially since he's not angry or resentful of you. I got that right, didn't I?”

“He probably wouldn't have written to me otherwise,” Naruko shrugged. “We seem to be on good terms now.”

“That should calm you down a bit,” Imaizumi said, tilting his head to the side.

“Don't do that,” Naruko exhaled suddenly, moving forward, and Imaizumi felt stiff fingers clutching the strands at the back of his head and pulling them down weakly.

He had to tilt his head back a little, and Naruko looked straight into his eyes, stepping his knee on Imaizumi's thigh.

“What?”

“Don't be so beautiful, Shunsuke,” Naruko asked quietly and as if with desperation. “I can't... think. I can't think straight. It just shuts me off. From everything.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Imaizumi said as Naruko practically pressed his lips to his.

“I wish I knew,” Naruko replied and gave him a slow, chaste kiss. “You're like an overpriced gift in a shop window. What can I do? Touch and walk away?”

Imaizumi involuntarily held his breath, closed his eyes. Hearing such a comparison was beyond him. It stirred up all the most painful feelings at the back of his mind. The hopelessness and regret he wanted so badly to get rid of but couldn't. He had to learn to reconcile, had to fight with himself.

“Don't... say—” he said quietly, feeling himself begin to tremble.

“I know,” Naruko replied, letting go and pulling away.

He got off the bed and walked over to the window again for some reason. It turned out there was a small radio on the windowsill — Imaizumi hadn't noticed it when he was there, but now Naruko picked it up and brought it to the bed.

“The broadcast must have started by now. The Holyhead Harpies are playing today. Do you want to listen to it?” he asked quietly, holding the radio in his hands.

“Yeah, sure,” Imaizumi agreed, moving a little to the side.

Naruko set the radio down on the middle of the bed, and it sank halfway into the pile of the brightly coloured duvet, but surprisingly it didn't fall.

Imaizumi tried not to move while Naruko tuned in the right frequency. The radio made a quiet hiss, occasionally interrupted by a voice or music, and the whole situation was making him feel very strange. Imaizumi didn't know why he felt this way, and he didn't want to mar a day like this with any discomfort. It would be too frustrating, but Naruko wasn't looking at him anymore, not raising his gaze as if he was hiding something.

When the right channel was found, the room filled with the commentator's animated voice, and Naruko quickly turned down the volume.

“I'll turn it up quietly — just in case. Maman sometimes comes home early, but I hope she won't be home before tonight.”

“Okay,” Imaizumi responded. The commentator, meanwhile, was announcing a 'terrific Quaffle throw' by the female Harpy Chaser. Yes, a female Chaser — he had to remember that this team was notable for always having only girls on the team. Naruko liked that, so he usually didn't miss the broadcast of their matches.

Dropping his trainers, he sat down on the bed more comfortably, crossing his legs, and for the first few minutes they just listened to the game, looking at the radio receiver, which was so strange again. If they turned on the radio broadcasts in their dormitory at Hogwarts or listened in the House common room, Naruko never sat still — at every opportunity he yelled, laughed, or interrupted the commentator in a way that made it unclear what happened next. No one usually wanted to listen to the radio with him, but his behaviour was different now. He was silent even during tense moments, and Imaizumi caught himself wanting to ask him to say something.

However, he didn't dare. He too remained silent, occasionally shifting his posture to keep his legs from getting stiff, and then suddenly he felt something warm touch his palm. Another couple of seconds and Naruko squeezed his fingers, almost painfully, but relaxing quickly. Imaizumi returned him a similar gesture and felt a moment's relief. This was better. When Naruko held him, when he filled the moment with meaning and made him believe that everything would be okay.

Okay. It's going to be okay, Imaizumi repeated to himself, and he realised that he'd never lied to himself so badly in his life. He wasn't going to get what he wanted with all his heart, and it hurt so much to sit in this room, on this bed, clutching Naruko's palm and thinking that this was the last time. He wasn't coming back here. They wouldn't come back here together. Because life was so much more complicated than he'd ever imagined before. Because love, as it turned out, couldn't be the cure for all problems, even if there was a whole sea of it. A vast sea in which Imaizumi had choked and drowned. One that he so did not want to drag Naruko into — at least one of them should have a life in which you do not regret anything.

Imaizumi really wanted that and knew he had to stop. Separate the two of them, keep his distance. To die inside himself every day because of it, hoping it would get easier someday.

Probably most of the match was played out. The score had passed the seven hundreds point mark for one of the teams, and he and Naruko were no longer sitting but lying down, positioned on the narrow bed across from each other and holding the radio in the middle. When the game was over, Imaizumi tried to get comfortable because his shoulder was stiff. The Harpies didn't win, unfortunately, but Naruko didn't seem the least bit upset about it — he grabbed the radio and started tuning in another channel. Imaizumi didn't ask which one. He wanted to know what time it was, and at the same time he wanted to forget time altogether. To stay here forever, out of reality, but with him. With Naruko.

“Would you like to warm up?”

Imaizumi opened his eyes and saw Naruko standing up and a mysterious, sly smile on his lips.

“Warm up?” Imaizumi asked sleepily, and Naruko turned up the volume, letting him recognise the familiar rhythmic tune from the receiver.

“Yeah, my whole body's aching,” he grinned, rising from the bed and dragging Imaizumi with him.

He had to get up and wait for clarification. Naruko was in no hurry to give it, standing across from him so close that Imaizumi could feel his warm breath on his neck.

“Can you dance, Hotshot?” Naruko asked with a chuckle, placing one palm on his waist and the other sliding across his chest, smoothing the fabric of his shirt.

“What?” Imaizumi smiled against his will. “Not with music like that.”

“I'm sorry, I couldn't find a waltz,” Naruko replied and made an insistent jerk to the side, urging him to move.

He had to put his hands up to grab his shoulders and keep from falling. Naruko laughed softly, moved both palms to Imaizumi's waist, embracing, and they slowly spun around a couple of times as if coming to a mute agreement.

The song was awkward to dance to, and somehow brought a wistful feeling despite the cheerful motif. The girl was drawling French lyrics into the microphone ('no, I regret nothing'), and he and Naruko must have looked awfully silly from the outside — Imaizumi thought about it for only a couple of seconds, and then his mind went completely blank. What did it matter if no one was watching? Who cares it if doing stupid things with the person you love was so great?

“For my life, for my joys, today, it starts with you,” the radio sang, concluding the song that was ending so inexorably fast.

Imaizumi smiled again, closing his eyes and resting his cheek against Naruko's hair. He could barely feel them moving as they embraced, and the realisation almost choked him.

Beloved. Beloved. My beloved.

He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Imaizumi struggled to suppress the emotion in him and gently moved his hand to take Naruko's chin, lift his face to his, and kiss him.

But before he could do so, there was a knock at the door. They both flinched — the music must have made Naruko unable to hear the footsteps too. He rushed to the radio to turn the volume down, and at that moment the door opened, revealing the intruder. Imaizumi had seen her before. Seen her and remembered her well because the impression stayed for a long time even if it was just a Boggart then. But now she was... the real one.

“I'm sorry, Shou, I was trying to hold her back!” Shingo came running in, and the lady of the house folded her arms across her chest, just as Naruko liked to do.

“I don't remember allowing guests to be present, Shoukichi,” she said, her voice sounding pleasant, unlike the time the Boggart had taken her form and started yelling.

“But you didn't say they weren't allowed,” Naruko chuckled awkwardly, lifting the radio off the bed to put it back on the windowsill.

“Fair enough,” Naruko's mom answered and, unexpectedly for Imaizumi, smiled weakly. “Your school friend?”

“Mm-hmm. It's Shunsuke...”

“Well, Shunsuke,” she said, tucking a strand of long hair as colourful as Naruko's behind her ear — was it just Imaizumi's imagination or was the gesture flirtatious? “Don't rush home, stay for dinner.”

Imaizumi didn't even have time to think of what to say. So he was left standing stunned, paired with Naruko, when his mother simply turned around and walked away without saying anything else. Shingo squeaked a quiet apology, bringing them to their senses, and Naruko poked Imaizumi with his elbow caustically.

“It's cool, isn't it? All Naruko likes you without exception.”

Imaizumi only opened his mouth and immediately closed it, feeling extremely awkward.

He didn't leave early so as not to show his bad side, and he really had to eat dinner in such an unfamiliar environment and unfamiliar company. With Naruko's mom and her three sons. It was hard to compare it to his usual family dinners or when his parents invited the next rich people to visit. There was none of the stiffness and restraint that the entire entourage of Imaizumi's parents possessed, no one was watching the volume of their voice. Everyone could laugh or joke, just like at the Gryffindor table, and even if the food was plain, Imaizumi was almost delighted to be having such a good time.

But all good things came to an end sooner or later. It was getting dark outside the windows, and it was time to head home because his parents should have been back by now too, or might be close to deciding to come after him, which would be highly undesirable. He had to say a quick goodbye and apologise for using the fireplace. And the only thing Imaizumi regretted was not being able to kiss Naruko before he left. That kiss could have been the end, but Imaizumi realised that he wasn't ready for that yet. He couldn't let Naruko go so soon and as he scooped the Floo powder from the bowl, he mentally promised himself he would do it next school year.

The living room he entered was dark and quiet. Imaizumi had already thought that his parents were late at work and that they might not be checking the travel records through their fireplace at all today — then he'd have a chance to meet Naruko again, — but the good thoughts were cut short as soon as he headed into the main living room. Voices could be heard coming from there — Imaizumi recognised them and cursed, realising he had calmed down too soon. He wanted to turn around and go up the other stairs to his room, but his footsteps were heard as well.

“Come here, Shunsuke,” his mother called out to him, and Imaizumi forced himself to obey.

He walked into the other huge room. Rich, cold, so repulsive after the humble cosy home he had been in. His parents were here. Sitting in chairs by the fireplace. His father with a newspaper, his mother with a book. As cold and repulsive as this whole house.

“What was that? You wanted to get some… northern air?” Mom asked, picking up a parchment from the coffee table and reading something on it.

“I was at my friend's house. Is that forbidden?” Imaizumi replied, trying to contain his growing irritation.

“Naruko,” his mother said in a calm tone, and Imaizumi wanted to make her never use that name again. Not to soil it with her arrogance and disgusting vanity. “A small, neglected town, a husband and wife with only one café at their disposal, which they used to make a living. Four children,” Mom said the last with a feigned note of surprise and added, “Bold enough.”

“What do you care?” Imaizumi snapped at her.

“I'm just saying, Shunsuke,” Mom replied. “I've already taken your promiscuity into account. It's just that your father and I aren't sure we want you hanging out with your spoilt friends outside of your spoilt school. You know how hard it was for us to decide to let you stay at Hogwarts, don't you?”

“Stop it,” Imaizumi asked with a wince. “I'll do what I have to do after graduation, but now leave me alone already.”

“I suggest you speak in a more polite tone, given the concessions we've made for you,” his father said gloomily while still reading the newspaper, and Imaizumi bit his lip.

“It's not—”

“Not enough, you mean?” Mom asked, putting aside the parchment and book and leaning a little forward in her chair. “As I recall, you were very eager for that boy's release. Sangaku Manami.”

“And it never happened,” Imaizumi replied, looking at his mother. “The Ministry doesn't decide anything.”

“But you, as many people now believe, have created a truly amazing thing,” Mom said as if casually, swinging her leg. “The magical artefact works like clockwork. It is simply amazing that it can pass through itself harmful Obscurus magic and completely disarm it. Perhaps we… have been too hard on you, after all, it is a brilliant creation, even if made in a hideous way.”

“What's your point?” Imaizumi asked, trying to figure out why he was being told all this now.

“The point is that the Ministry has made a decision,” his father replied, putting down the newspaper. “He's back home. Today.”

“R-really?” Imaizumi gasped.

“There's no point in lying.”

“But it's— You mean he's coming back to Hogwarts too?”

“Unfortunately,” Mom said and pressed her lips together. “Mr Vandering, the father of your half-blood friend, was very persistent. He was prepared to go to any measures to ensure the Obscurial boy's return to school. I don't even want to think—”

“He has long enjoyed the trust of the Minister of Magic,” his father cut her off. “Don't think he has bad intentions, he just felt sorry for the child, that's all. We all feel sorry for him, prejudice aside.”

“Didn't he feel sorry for his Muggle baby when he gave it up?” Mom parried, snorting disdainfully.

“Everyone makes mistakes,” father said calmly. “But repentance allows you to purify your soul.”

It was easy to tell from the look on Mom's face that she didn't take it well, though she chose to remain silent. Imaizumi stood stunned and unable to believe what was happening. Had it really worked? Had their torment paid off?

A wave of blind joy rose up in him and eclipsed all the negative feelings associated with meeting his parents. Back in his room, Imaizumi was trembling and shaking as he opened a drawer in his desk to pull out a parchment and inkwell.

Many things in life changed. Many were irrevocable, like the graduation of Teshima and the other seventh-years, or the securing of Imaizumi's position as team captain. The inevitable approach of his own graduation and the approach of a new life, a serious and altogether unhappy one. But one thing was destined to come back. And that was that very soon Imaizumi would see Sangaku Manami back among the students of Hogwarts.

Chapter Text

Imaizumi felt strange and awkward — a small black-and-white rabbit pressed its face against the lattice, trying to poke its pink nose through the thin bars and sometimes scraping the bottom of the big cage with its feet. There were others here too: all-white, dark grey, spotted, and monochrome, but all of them were doing their own thing: some were sleeping, some were chewing on bits of vegetables or raking sawdust on the floor, but the black-and-white one seemed to be stuck to the bars, reaching for Imaizumi, who was standing next, as if demanding something.

“Here,” the salesman said, bringing him back to reality, opened the cage from the top and put his hand inside. “Take him and hold — he likes you very much.”

Imaizumi was taken aback but automatically put up his palms as the salesman held the rabbit out to him. The fluffy little ball with ears and tail turned around a couple of times, snuggled up with its feet tucked in, and looked at Imaizumi with its round black eyes. They might have seemed abnormally large because of the speckles around them, but that quickly faded into the background because... Imaizumi was touched to the core.

The animals didn't often give him the kind of attention that could be considered friendly. Onoda's owl ignored him, Naruko's cat scratched or tried to bite him when she didn't ignore him. Only on the rare occasion when she was apparently in a super good mood could she be affectionate and even allow him to pet her without subsequent injury. It was unusual to hold a small animal with silky fur in the palms and feel basically safe from a sudden attack. No, the rabbit seemed to be genuinely well disposed towards him and perhaps even wanted Imaizumi to take it home with him. It took a while to get something like that into his head.

“You seem to like him too, don't you?” the salesman asked with a smile, and Imaizumi looked at the rabbit again, who had calmed down and seemed to be planning to fall asleep right in his palms.

“Er— Yes, he's very… soft,” Imaizumi said stupidly, feeling awkward again.

Actually, he had no intention of buying the animal at all. He had come to Diagon Alley for a different purpose, but the windows of the Magic Menagerie had caught his eye with the presence of a red-haired short figure in the shop. Hardly consciously, Imaizumi stepped inside, only to be disappointed, of course, because the cause of his unease turned out to be just a girl with short brightly coloured hair similar to Naruko's. Naruko wasn't here and couldn't be: He had clearly written in his last letter that he wouldn't be going to Diagon Alley this year, and that his mother would do all the school shopping for him. Imaizumi immediately wanted to leave but lingered near the rabbit cage, and this was the result. Looks like he won't be coming home alone later today.

“Do you already have pets?” the salesman asked the next question, looking the customer over appraisingly. It seems he noticed how expensive Imaizumi's clothes looked, and now he might be planning a profitable deal.

“No,” Imaizumi replied, not knowing if he should give the rabbit back and leave. The fluffy animal was so sweetly trusting and wiggling its little ears amusingly that he wanted to take it home after all, even though Imaizumi had no idea what he would do with it. Even though he had taken all the classes on Care for Magical Creatures, Professor hadn't said anything about how to care for rabbits.

“Then a rabbit can be a great friend to you,” the salesman smiled. “Of course, it does not fulfil any useful functions like delivering mail or catching mice, but it does not require much care. It's a quiet and wonderful animal.”

“Quiet," Imaizumi repeated, looking at the spotted fur. “Great...”

“If you buy one, you won't be disappointed, I can promise you that.”

As he listened to the salesman, Imaizumi nodded faintly. He received a lecture on the principles of care, recommendations on food and feed, and an offer of a comfortable cage that, with a little magic, could increase or decrease in size. Imaizumi left five galleons on the till, and somehow he was sure that rabbits and their dowry were not worth that much. Nevertheless, it was a really nice purchase, and his parents didn't forbid him to spend the money on his own needs. Today he would tell them that such a situation had happened and his need was a small useless and defenceless animal. The kind he himself must have been to his parents.

Stepping down from the porch, Imaizumi adjusted the bag on his shoulder and looked again at the small cage he held in front of him. The rabbit sat inside in the light-coloured sawdust, lazily gnawing on a cabbage leaf. A faint smile appeared on his face by itself — Imaizumi was touched by the actions of this little animal, and he didn't notice when someone familiar appeared nearby.

“Shunsuke? Good to see you.”

Imaizumi finally looked up, taking his eyes off the rabbit, and blinked in surprise.

“Oh... Hello,” he said awkwardly, not at all expecting to run into someone from his House this day. But here he was, Kinjou, once the captain of their Quidditch team, standing right in front of him.

He was still wearing the same glasses, but in some ways he seemed different, more mature. Imaizumi was embarrassed that he hadn't paid attention to him at once, busy admiring his rabbit, but before he could apologise for that, Kinjou spoke again.

“Decided to get a pet? It looks cute.”

“Thank you,” Imaizumi replied, lowering his eyes again to the cage the rabbit rustled in. “I didn't really come here for that... it just so happened...”

“Of course you didn't. Buying school supplies before the start of a new school year is an important procedure that doesn't go unnoticed by any student,” Kinjou laughed good-naturedly. “It makes me feel nostalgic.”

“I've bought everything before,” Imaizumi smiled weakly. “But when I was tidying up, I realised I was out of bitter wormwood. I had to go get it separately.”

It was like that, really. He was here a couple of weeks ago. Arranged to meet with Onoda to do all the shopping, saw Manami after their another long separation, noted with surprise that he looked pretty good for someone who'd spent almost a year in isolation, exhausted by his own magic.

But Imaizumi needed to go back. And now he didn't just have a supply of wormwood for the next two years. He also had a pet, yes. A strange rabbit who liked him for some reason.

“And you're here—” he tried to ask next, and Kinjou quickly answered.

“Holiday. Met up with Jin and Yuusuke — shame they've already left. We'd just recently said goodbye.”

“Oh,” Imaizumi exhaled stupidly, realising that just recently he had been close to seeing more than just Kinjou.

He suddenly wondered if he would still be meeting his school friends in Diagon Alley after finishing school the same way? Onoda and Naruko, and Manami too. Wouldn't his parents resent him because of that? Oh shit, he was totally unprepared for such fantasies right now.

“I was going to leave too, but I ran into you by chance,” Kinjou continued and smiled again. “You've grown again, and you're broader in the shoulders, so I can see you've been working hard at your training. Would you like to go for a walk?” he asked with a laugh.

“If you're not in a hurry,” Imaizumi nodded, pushing away any unpleasant thoughts of the future.

“No. I have a lot of free time on my hands. I'm trying to keep it occupied with pleasant moments,” Kinjou replied and slowly walked forward along the busy street.

Imaizumi mentally doubted that his dull company could make the moment pleasant, but gave up and followed, holding the rabbit's cage tighter against him. On the other hand, he was curious. He hadn't seen Kinjou in two years, and they hadn't kept in touch. All Imaizumi knew was that Kinjou had planned to continue with Quidditch after school. Was that the case now? Did he play for any team? It was so tempting to ask that, but somehow Imaizumi couldn't.

“How are you doing?” Kinjou asked, being the first to resume the conversation. “And how's Naruko and Onoda”.

“Er— well—” Imaizumi was confused again, not knowing how to answer. There was so much to talk about, it was impossible to tell everything. And should he have done it? “We got into the sixth year.”

Kinjou laughed.

“That's a huge achievement for some people, isn't it? I'm glad they were able to pass their exams. It would be a shame if some of you couldn't play on the team.”

“Well...”' Imaizumi uttered as he looked at the cage. “Onoda won't be.”

“Oh, really?” Kinjou was surprised, slowing his step and turning around. “Why? Did something happen?”

“Yes and no,” Imaizumi shrugged. “It's a difficult subject. So much happened in the fourth and fifth year. I think—”

“You don't have to tell me if it's personal or too hard for you,” Kinjou replied, shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and walked on. “But you're going to continue, I take it?”

“Yes,” Imaizumi agreed. “Teshima left me as captain, so I have more responsibilities from this year on.”

“I had no doubt that would be the case. Are you sure you can handle it?”

Biting his lip, Imaizumi fell silent dejectedly. He wasn't in the mood to answer that question. He didn't have that confidence that Kinjou was asking about.

“I guess I don't have a choice,” Imaizumi replied nonetheless, just to say something.

“Don't worry about it so much,” Kinjou turned around a little. “You've been on the team since second year. Listen to your intuition, and everything will work out. Besides, you've only got two years left. It won't be the same after that, even if you decide to go pro.”

“And you—” Imaizumi asked uncertainly, noticing that they had stopped in front of the Quidditch supplies shop where he had recently bought a new broom. Longer than the old one but the same model.

“Yeah. I speak from experience,” Kinjou nodded, looking at the Cleansweeps and Nimbuses on display. “Playing on an adult team isn't as much fun as it was in school. It gets a lot more serious. But I have a little dream.”

“To move on?” Imaizumi guessed, to which he received a quiet chuckle.

“One step at a time. It might take years, but it will pay off.”

“Mm.” Imaizumi pressed his lips together and looked at the rabbit again, who was sniffing the changed air and wiggling his whiskers after eating.

It was that feeling again. Like it always did when Kinjou was around. Imaizumi felt weak, a few steps below, unable to ever rise to the same level. He wouldn't even have the chance. Because Kinjou would go ahead. Because he didn't have to get the job his parents chose, or get married. Half-bloods and muggleborns had so many opportunities unlike purebloods, really. It was a shame, even. It was always a shame.

“You know,” Kinjou said suddenly, distracting him from his thoughts. “It's only been two years, but it feels like a couple of decades, and I hardly recognise you. Why do you look like the biggest tragedy of your life has happened?”

Maybe it's because it has? Imaizumi thought to himself and grinned unhappily.

A tragedy happened in my life. I lost my head to a guy. I don't know how to live without him, but I have to push him to a distance.

Because otherwise we're gonna torture each other to death.

“You're hardly going to find that interesting,” Imaizumi replied quietly, forcing himself to speak. “There are some things that some people think are nonsense, and others don't know how to deal with them. I simply don't belong in our House. I don't have the courage. I don't have the strength to go against the tide. I can't live like you, as freely as you do. And by my recent behaviour, I've lowered my chances even further. I realise that more clearly every day.”

“So, have you decided to fight alone again?” Kinjou asked.

“Life is not—”

“Is not Quidditch. I know. But there's still something in common between the two things. You can always face challenges, no matter what you do. And even if you fall, it's easier to get up when you have a hand out? It's different if you don't take that hand.”

“What if I fell down so that someone else could get up?” Imaizumi said. “Someone for whom something very important was at stake.”

“Then you might consider yourself a true Gryffindor, Shunsuke,” Kinjou grinned weakly. “Not everyone is capable of sacrificing themselves.”

“That hardly makes me feel better,” Imaizumi smiled back.

“I understand. But since you've made this choice yourself, try to find the positive side of it. The role of martyr isn't the most pleasant, and it doesn't always guarantee gratitude... Tell me if there's anything I can do to help,” Kinjou asked.

“Yes,” Imaizumi replied, turning around to face him. “Take me to some Muggle shop not far from here.”

“A Muggle shop?” Kinjou asked, apparently not expecting such a strange request. It was strange for Imaizumi, too.

“Where all sorts of small things are sold, but not souvenirs,” Imaizumi tried to explain. “Something useful but not available in the wizarding world. Uncomplicated equipment or—”

“Okay,” Kinjou smiled, interrupting his rambling speech. “I got it. And I think I have a place in mind.”

* * *

It was surprisingly quick to get used to the rabbit. The parents didn't even notice the arrival of the pet, and the 'new friend', as the salesman said, remained a secret until the very first of September. Only when it was time to use the house fireplace to move to the Leaky Cauldron Mom first saw the cage that Imaizumi was holding and wrinkled her nose in disdain. She didn't say anything particularly offensive about the rabbit, however, only hinting that teenagers should grow up, not drift back into childhood. Apparently she thought that adults didn't waste their time with pets, but Imaizumi didn't care. He had managed to become attached to the rabbit and felt warm feelings every time he looked at him or stroked him.

The rabbit's second appreciation came from Naruko, of course, when they met on the Hogwarts Express to take a compartment. Just seeing Imaizumi, Naruko grinned unkindly but almost immediately turned his attention to the cage and squealed loudly, “What the hell is that?”

“Can't you see it yourself? It's a rabbit,” Imaizumi replied, feeling growing irritated. Was it really so hard not to ruin the meeting?

“Are you sure it's a rabbit?” Naruko asked in a mimicking tone of incredulity, tilting his face toward the cage. “What a pair of eyes he's got! Oh, shit, it's just spots,” he realised and laughed. “Couldn't you have picked someone prettier?”

“Shut up, I like him,” Imaizumi took offence and turned sharply into an empty compartment.

“All right, all right!” Naruko laughed again, coming in next. “What did you call him?”

“Fluffy,” Imaizumi mumbled, carefully placing the cage in the corner of the seat.

“Pahh!” Naruko snorted, seemingly about to burst into laughter. “That's the most cliché name in the world! It doesn't suit him at all! Let's call him Creepie! Look how cool it is!”

“It's not fucking cool,” Imaizumi snapped, grabbing Naruko by the shirt on his chest and pushing him into the compartment door, which was half open. “Don't mess with the rabbit.”

“I'm not messing with him — I'm messing with you,” Naruko replied, grinning defiantly and raising his head a little.

Imaizumi caught himself almost leaning in for a kiss on his neck. Stopping himself, he pulled back, and almost at the same moment a couple of middle school girls walked past the compartment. Naruko's smile turned into a mocking one.

“Oh, fuck you,” Imaizumi frowned and quickly stepped back out into the corridor.

The fresh air chased away the irritation and brought his thoughts back to order a bit. Naruko, of course, still liked to turn on asshole mode, but Imaizumi wasn't ready for that today. Not for the fact that his feelings would explode into a volcano in just a minute, ruining his supposed calm. No, he really thought he had calmed down, that he had pulled himself together, and in reality, it turned out to be...

A nightmare.

All it took was Naruko's one attempt to piss him off. One gesture as he lifted his head, invitingly opening access to his throat. Imaizumi almost kissed him. Forgetting that they were in a crowded place, that his parents... were still on the platform.

They were chatting with someone. Probably with the parents of another elite Hogwarts first-year. Imaizumi didn't want to be interested in that — he wanted to find Onoda, but his mom called him over and he had to put his plans on hold for later.

He didn't listen when he was introduced to the next powerful person in the wizarding world — he only learnt that Slytherin was expecting a new addition in the form of the man's growing daughter. Imaizumi was almost ready to laugh when the Hat sorted her to Gryffindor during the Sorting ceremony — her parents would be so happy when they found out.

He didn't care, of course, even if the situation amused him. What was more important was that Naruko's second brother was also sorted into Gryffindor though Imaizumi was worried about him. With that matter resolved and the Sorting ceremony over, it was necessary to remember what had been planned since yesterday. Imaizumi was now the new captain of the Quidditch team, and he wasn't about to waste any time. Which was why, as soon as the Welcoming Feast come to an end and the prefects were ready to escort their Houses to the common rooms, Imaizumi, feeling a little cocky, headed straight for his Head.

“No. Naturally, the Quidditch pitch is not booked by anyone tomorrow — no team has yet to put in their preferences for a practice schedule,” she said, looking at Imaizumi with a slight chuckle. And I wouldn't advise you, Mr Imaizumi, to put the cart before the thestral. You'll have plenty of time to train your team.”

Feeling a little ashamed, Imaizumi pulled himself together and said, “I want to insist.”

Professor hummed and pierced him with her gaze again.

“Is it from insolence or... insecurity?”

More like the second, Imaizumi answered to himself, intending to stand in front of the table until he got the okay.

“The Quidditch pitch is yours tomorrow, Mr Imaizumi, if that's what it takes,” the Headmaster, who was sitting on the professor's left hand, suddenly intervened.

“But—” she tried to object and was interrupted by a lazy raise of his palm.

“There's no such thing as too much Quidditch,” the Headmaster smiled, causing Imaizumi to almost glow.

He refrained from thanking him too much and gave a polite 'thank you' before turning back to the boys. Onoda finally went about his business, instead of tirelessly guarding Manami like he was a small child. Imaizumi didn't like that attitude, even though Manami might have been fine with it, but it was still calmer. With a sense of at least some closure.

The walk up to Gryffindor Tower was noisy, which was to be expected. Onoda managed to make all the first-years obey him (not without Naruko's help, of course), and Imaizumi was hardly disturbed by the buzz of children's voices, but he was disturbed by the discussions about the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, which had been going on since dinner.

The young Professor was sitting somewhere at a table with the rest of the staff, should have been sitting — though Imaizumi hadn't noticed him, not even when he'd approached his Head with the request. He was worried about other things, and he probably couldn't understand the excitement even with a great desire. Right now it was more important for him to think through the course of tomorrow's practice. Should he use the same pattern that Teshima had followed, or would it be better to add something new? Over the summer, Imaizumi had occasionally thought about improvements, but again he wasn't sure about them, and he didn't know how the team members would take the changes. He still had to tell Naruko about one very important change, and he might react with great indignation — it was the hardest thing to prepare for, but Imaizumi promised himself to do his best since Teshima had put such a burden on him and left without explaining how Imaizumi should lead the team to victory without Onoda.

Speaking of Onoda. He was actually the Head Boy from this year (and should be, um... an example to everyone else, especially the newbies?), but Naruko didn't seem to give a shit about that fact, because when the celebration began in the common room, he was laughing loudly as he tried to foist Onoda a second bottle of Butterbeer.

“Don't you have anything better to do? Stop getting him drunk,” Imaizumi asked irritably, tired of watching the whole mess.

Unfortunately, Onoda liked Butterbeer, and it didn't take long for him to resist before he took the bottle from Naruko.

“It's good for him — he's too embarrassed, and the alcohol will loosen him up!” Naruko laughed, his laughter drowned out by the noise of the other Gryffindors. “He's got a date-night tonight.”

“What?” Imaizumi grumbled, thinking Naruko was joking. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, like you haven't guessed! Manami's here, so you won't be seeing much of your best friend.”

“Shoukichi,” Onoda interrupted him pleadingly, and Imaizumi rolled his eyes.

“Sakamichi, um... you're not serious? You're not going anywhere, are you?” he asked hopefully. “That's unreasonable.”

But Onoda only lowered his eyes and cowered in shame.

“I'm sorry. I promised.”

“Did you hear that?” Naruko laughed again. “He said 'promised'? The situation needs no comment!”

“Yeah, go ahead — yell about it all over the common room,” Imaizumi barked, imagining the trouble they'd be in from the first day of the new term.

“Is that really what you want?” Naruko asked, standing up abruptly on the couch next to Onoda, who just yelped and clutched the bottle to himself. “I'M YELLING ALL OVER THE COMMON ROOM ABOUT WHAT A BORING GOOD BOY OUR SHUNSUKE IS — HE DOESN'T WANT HIS FRIEND TO—”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Imaizumi jumped down from his chair to shut Naruko up, but the latter leapt over the back of the couch.

Imaizumi could only catch up with him at the stairs and nearly dropped him when he grabbed him by the collar of his robe.

“I'm sorry,” Naruko laughed as Imaizumi turned him around and pushed him against the wall for the second time that day. “Just wanted to cheer you up a bit — you're as dull as dragon shit today.”

“Thank you for that flattering comparison, Shoukichi.” Imaizumi said the last one irritably, but Naruko just blinked and made a perfectly adorable puppy-dog expression. “You don't have to be a arsehole for that.”

“Come on, I'm doing that because I love you,” Naruko smiled.

His heart traitorously skipped a beat and beat like crazy, but his mind belatedly warned him it was just a joke. Nothing more. Imaizumi exhaled tiredly, mentally waving goodbye to the whole situation, and walked back to his chair. He remained silent for the rest of the evening even if it was very difficult to remain calm. The guys didn't limit themselves to Buttrbeers, by the way. Closer to twelve, Naruko brought in a bottle of Firewhiskey, bought from God knows what underground dealer, but the boys swooped down on it like it was pumpkin juice in the Great Hall. Imaizumi didn't want to spoil the fun for the others if he couldn't have fun himself, but at the end, when many of them had gone to their dorms and gone to bed, he grabbed Naruko's wrist and held him back from taking another sip. Naruko, surprisingly, didn't argue, just handed the almost finished bottle to one of the seventh year students and went to the dormitory where Onoda and the others had gone earlier.

Imaizumi thought it was time for him to sleep too, but when he went upstairs and looked at his bed, he found it already occupied — Naruko was lying on it as if it were his own, rustling the bag and eating something suspiciously reminiscent of Muggle chips. Onoda, clinging to the chest of drawers, with a reverent look tried to stroke the rabbit's nose, sticking his finger through the bars.

“Get out of here, I'm going to sleep,” Imaizumi said, pulling the covers off his bed. Naruko jumped to the floor a second before he could fall but flopped back down again.

“When's our first practice, captain? Did you already make the arrangements?” he asked in a mocking tone, defiantly pushing aside the interfering blanket and leaning back against the pillow and headboard of the bed. The packet of stupid overcooked potatoes was still with him, and Imaizumi was willing to swear he saw a few crumbs fall right onto the bedclothes.

Calm. Just calm, he mentally told himself and took a deep breath.

He took off his shoes and lay down on the other side of the bed, expecting Naruko to leave, but he didn't leave. It was as if he'd decided to make him completely mad tonight.

“Tomorrow,” Imaizumi mumbled, raising his hand and pressing his wrist to his forehead.

“What?” Naruko said indignantly. “Are you serious? No one starts practice on the first day of school! Half the team will be hungover!”

“Who's to blame for this?” Imaizumi replied tiredly. “Now shut your mouth, please.”

Naruko snorted unhappily but made no comment on Imaizumi's request, though he could have. You bet he could have.

After that, sleep was mercilessly inevitable. Imaizumi was quickly falling asleep, and the sound of the packet of crisps falling to the floor was hardly enough to attract his attention. Even when Naruko's head landed on his shoulder, Imaizumi didn't immediately realise the point of what was happening because the action, hell, it was actually a familiar one.

However, Naruko didn't seem to have any plans at all to get up and go to his bed. Snuggled in comfortably, even placing a hand on Imaizumi's stomach. The thought of kicking him out only came for a second but just as quickly slipped away. The only hope was that Sugimoto and his friend wouldn't make a big deal out of it, thinking that Naruko was just drunk and didn't care where he slept.

* * *

It was even surprising that they looked more or less awake the next day. Rested. They were lucky that many of the students in their year had a free time instead of first class, but Imaizumi, along with Onoda, had gotten up before breakfast to busy themselves with the notice board in the common room. Onoda was hanging up the timetables for the entire House, stopping periodically to find the right one in the pile of parchments. Imaizumi pinned up a notice that there would be a Quidditch practice after class today, which anyone over first year could attend. There will be newcomers, he reminded himself, glancing tensely at the notice, and then noticing how strange and confused Onoda looked.

“Oh, so you went out at night?” Imaizumi asked. “I didn't hear you get up and come back.”

“Y-yes, I went out for a while,” Onoda mumbled confusedly, then quickly piled up his parchments and hurried back to the dormitory.

Imaizumi just shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what had happened, and decided to head to breakfast. He needed to eat, read the new issue of the Daily Prophet, and apparently grab breakfast for Naruko because he wasn't likely to wake up before the end of first class. Imaizumi was kind of glad that their new classes were much the same in many ways. He had, of course, chosen the subjects needed for his future profession, and it turned out that they overlapped with the classes that Naruko and Onoda had chosen — it was great that they would be able to take the same classes again.

After lunch, they had Defence Against the Dark Arts, but the excitement about the new Professor resumed before the second class. Imaizumi was already getting a headache from all this, but he still stoically endured the stupid squabble between Naruko and Kaburagi when they met at recess. Thankfully, at least the Transfiguration lesson was peaceful, except for the fact that Sugimoto accidentally made his partner's hair grow uncontrollably and quickly, and Naruko, instead of changing Imaizumi's black hair to white, made it pink. Imaizumi didn't let him have much fun about it and quickly cast the counter-spell on himself, but at the end of the lesson, though, he found a flower stuck in the strands on his head that Naruko had transformed from an eraser.

The next ordeal was, as strange as it sounded, lunchtime because Imaizumi had planned to finish reading the paper in peace, but instead he witnessed another fight between the two red-haired nightmares, which resulted in getting House points taken off. Half of the points Imaizumi had gotten for his Transfiguration, yeah. Sometimes he thought about giving up and never doing his best for the House again, since his merits were almost always nullified by Naruko's, but still he answered Professors' questions or did the new spells in the curriculum the first time.

It was his fate, apparently, and he cheered up a little when he got fifteen points from the new DADA Professor for a detailed answer about the effects of the Imperius curse. Koutarou Ishigaki, as he introduced himself, was the opposite of their previous Professor. He didn't try to escalate when talking about gruesome things, and even if overly impressionable students flinched when hearing a not-so-pleasant story about the Killing Curse, he would immediately say something funny or amusing. Imaizumi didn't know where this style of teaching would lead and whether the teenagers would start to take the Dark Arts without seriousness, but on the other hand, he felt much more comfortable now, and that was only a plus.

There was no doubt that by the end of the lesson, everyone was won over by the new professor. Especially when he said that starting in October he would be teaching an elective class on wizarding duelling, a love for which was immediately awakened in almost all of the students. Imaizumi sighed, thinking that this was too much — he wasn't going to give in to the herd instinct, even if dueling practice would be useful for his future work. Instead of working his arse off to please his parents, Imaizumi decided to devote most of his free time to Quidditch and his position as captain.

He was going to start today, so right after school he took his bag and broom and headed to the Quidditch pitch first.

The changing room was dusty and smelled musty. He had to use a few cleaning spells first, and then open the windows in all the rooms to air them out. It was a sentimental moment to look in his permanent locker, where his guards and tattered Quaffle had been neatly stored since last year. Imaizumi remembered again that neither Kinjou nor Teshima would be here anymore, which meant that he would really have to handle everything on his own now.

“Getting nostalgic, Hotshot?” Naruko's voice interrupted the silence.

Imaizumi was distracted from contemplating the contents of his locker and turned to the door, trying to figure out how he hadn't heard footsteps approaching — Naruko wasn't usually good at walking quietly.

“Great. You're just what I need,” Imaizumi said, starting to take off his robe.

“Ooh, you want to do something indecent in the changing room?” Naruko asked in a feigned surprised tone and grinned.

“God, spare me from that vulgar comments,” Imaizumi replied with annoyance, hanging the robe on his arm. “There's a conversation you're not going to like.”

Naruko lost his smile and said the next thing with seriousness, “You know, lately I don't like everything you say.”

“I know,” Imaizumi sighed and followed his gaze as Naruko let the door close behind him and headed leisurely towards the open window. “But this is important. You do realise that the team is taking some losses.”

“Really? Which ones?” Naruko asked, leaning his hands on the window frame.

“Aoyagi's gone. Onoda isn't playing. We only have two Chasers left to rely on, and no good Seeker.”

“Is that such a problem? What do you have tryouts for?”

“I looked at all the guys last year. We don't have a decent replacement,” Imaizumi replied, and Naruko snorted loudly.

“The rookies will come in.”

“You know how rookies play. Not everyone is like we were.”

“Pah! So you think you're cool already? You're fast!” Naruko turned around and gave Imaizumi a mocking glare.

“I'm trying to be objective,” Imaizumi replied sharply and put the robe on the shelf in his locker. “Do you want to win this year or what?”

“And you're panicking ahead of time!” Naruko barked, seemingly starting to get mad. Damn, actually, that was a bad thing right now. It was too soon.

“I need you to change your position,” Imaizumi said calmly, looking at his locker and not seeing the emotions appearing on Naruko's face. It was probably bewilderment, and maybe even anger by now.

“What? What position are you trying to put me in?” the latter asked loudly and indignantly.

“The third Chaser.”

“What's your problem with me playing a Beater? Are you saying I'm not trying hard enough?”

“No,” Imaizumi countered and stepped toward Naruko to press him against the window and lean in close to his face the next moment. “I wouldn't have said a word to you if we had Onoda. He'll save the game, but what if the game has to be saved with just the Quaffle?”

“What's that got to do with me? I'm not a Chaser!” Naruko replied, looking into his eyes.

“We don't have another one.”

“Then find one, damn it! It's your job to pick the contenders!”

“And I did.”

“I didn't nominate myself! Who will be the Beaters?”

“Danchiku. And your brother.”

“Oh yeah?” Naruko practically laughed. “So you don't need the tryouts, Shunsuke? It will just be a formality because you've already made up your fucking mind! So why don't you just tell everyone? Shingo hasn't even started real practice yet, and Danchiku doesn't have enough experience to do it alone! If we don't bother the other team with Bludgers, they'll score all the time!”

“They won't,” Imaizumi responded. “I'll leave Kaburagi at our hoops — he's great at intercepting other people's passes if need be, but the Quaffle— We'll have it pretty much all the time. You'll be scoring.”

But Naruko let out another half choked laugh and pushed Imaizumi away from him.

“In your dreams, Hotshot, maybe I'll score in a real match.”

“I can keep an eye on you even when I'm not looking directly at you,” Imaizumi confessed. He had hoped it wouldn't come to that, but he had to tell everything.

“Am I supposed to take that as a compliment?” Naruko raised an eyebrow, but there was still a flicker of interest in his eyes.

“I want to use you, my personal obsession, on the battlefield. I'll be able to pass to you, throwing a Quaffle into one of the hoops before doing so. If you're on the opposite side of me and go to catch and score again right after I leave the penalty area.”

Naruko blinked in surprise, seemingly not understanding anything, but after a couple of seconds there was a flash of insight in his eyes.

“It's fun if it works,” he said calmly. “But... can't you pull this off with anyone? Take Kabu, and leave the new Chaser in defence.”

“I'll have a better chance of doing it if I'm paired with you,” Imaizumi sighed. “We've been training together since the beginning. I'm more used to you than anyone else.”

“Ohhh, that's so sweet, Hotshot,” Naruko drawled mockingly and stepped towards Imaizumi, tracing some sort of symbol on his chest with his index finger. “You're so helpless. You can't do anything without me.”

“Yes,” Imaizumi said, feeling like he was going to hate himself for agreeing to this. “I can't do anything without you. Are you satisfied?”

“I guess so,” Naruko answered ambiguously, though his mood had clearly improved.

They didn't get a chance to finish their conversation since the rest of the team appeared in the locker room, having come to practice as well. Imaizumi didn't know what Naruko thought about what he had said, but he was pleasantly surprised when he stayed in the group of guys who were doing individual Chaser drills. The goofy grin after that was very hard to hide and became even harder when Naruko made his first strides in practising feints. Imaizumi finished the practice in high spirits, and for some reason it seemed to him that everything was going to work out.

While the boys were changing their clothes, noisily discussing each other's business, he sat on the bench near his locker and studied the list of those who had come, which he had made at the beginning of the practice. This time they had a little more participants than last year, but after watching them for the past two hours, Imaizumi only realised that his expectations were justified and there were almost no truly worthy players. Yeah, he and Naruko would have to work hard if they were going to win matches in their current situation. They had no time to relax — they had to start working on their tactics from the next practice, and in other moments to work, as today, according to Teshima's old programme. Even if he didn't want to think about it, Imaizumi felt that he didn't want to lose the title just because the team would change.

When all the guys had left and the room was quiet, Imaizumi was still sitting there, absorbed in the notes Teshima had left him. He was beginning to think that maybe he should change the Beater programme after all and was completely oblivious to the fact that he hadn't even changed his clothes. He was distracted by the sound of his name above his ear, and it even made him flinch.

“Shit. I thought everyone had left,” Imaizumi pulled away on automatic, looking at the smiling face of Naruko, who sat with his feet up on the bench. Had he been this close the whole time?

“Yep. You were so engrossed, I thought you'd sit up until curfew. Such a serious and important captain.”

“What's wrong with you, I don't understand?” Imaizumi asked, putting aside his parchments. “Seasonal disorder?”

“What's wrong with me?” Naruko replied, as if he didn't understand. “I'm just me.”

“You're being more naughty than usual,” Imaizumi remarked.

“Well, I miss you. We haven't seen each other all of August,” Naruko shrugged and rose lazily to his feet. He had at least partially changed his clothes: He had taken off his guards and robe, leaving only light-coloured trousers and a T-shirt, — Imaizumi should have taken a cue from him.

“And that's why you're trying to piss me off?”

“That's why you liked me, isn't it?” Naruko asked, staring at the opposite wall. “Because I pissed you off.”

“No,” Imaizumi grinned. “That's not exactly why. You made me feel like I wasn't alone, that's all.”

“And afterwards... you won't need my services anymore?”

“Afterwards?”

“When we all graduate,” Naruko said quietly, still not turning around.

Imaizumi didn't answer. He couldn't though he wanted to say that he would always need Naruko, that he was irreplaceable, but did he have the right to say that now?

“Two years will pass by unnoticed, Hotshot,” Naruko added suddenly. “Just like the previous five years.”

He silently picked up his robe and took a step towards the door to grab his broom that was standing against the wall and leave, but Imaizumi couldn't let him go. Jumping up from the bench, he called out, making him stop.

“I— I don't—”

“What?” Naruko asked, turning around.

“Don't go,” Imaizumi said, lowering his eyes and feeling like the most pathetic weakling in the world.

He shouldn't have given in to this. Shouldn't have asked him to stay. He shouldn't have done something that would only cause more pain for both of them.

But Naruko listened to him. He changed his mind. Walked back over, threw the robe on the bench, and then kicked that bench with his foot, causing it to slide back noisily and crash into the lockers.

“Red,” Naruko said, pushing until Imaizumi's back was pressed into his own door. “Don't take that off. Never take it off.”

Naruko said the last phrase, whispering into his neck. His warm breath made him shiver, and Imaizumi closed his eyes, ignoring the uncomfortable position and how the edge of the bench almost painfully cut into his calves — all of that was irrelevant in an instant because he was falling again, relentlessly and powerlessly.

How was he supposed to end it all? While Naruko was touching him with his lips near the collar of his jumper, while his palm was insistently sliding down his chest, moving lower, it was impossible, unthinkable to do anything like that. There was only one thing he wanted: to obey, to yield, to allow. Imaizumi had never thought he would experience such feelings. He never thought he would feel this way towards Naruko. The one he always argued with, the one he never wanted to lose to. But right now, he was on the losing side again. And he almost didn't want to regret it.

“Hey, Naruko,” Imaizumi called out with a chuckle as Naruko pressed his thigh with his, making him feel an erection. “What turned you on this time? Me or the Quidditch uniforms?”

“Fool,” Naruko grinned and pulled at his collar. “You're in the Quidditch uniform.”

Imaizumi leaned towards him to let their lips meet and kissed him greedily and roughly, hugging Naruko's back with one arm.

“You're not serious, are you? Someone might come back.”

“Who gives a shit.”

“Are you sure you don't give a shit?” Imaizumi smiled, barely holding back a chuckle. This whole situation and how Naruko was reaching for his lips, standing on his toes, was really amusing, even if dangerous in a way.

“Are you sure I was joking when I said about indecent things in the changing room?”

Unable to bear it, Imaizumi still laughed quietly. Probably for the first time in a long time.

“Stop it. I stink, and I need to go take a shower.”

“A little salty, yeah,” Naruko agreed, still gripping him with a deadly grip when Imaizumi tried to move forward. “Like caramel.”

“Oh, come on.” Imaizumi suppressed another laugh. “Let go.”

“I can't while I'm having this... problem,” Naruko replied, burying his face in his neck and once again burning him with his breath, which became even more frequent.

Imaizumi sighed and without thinking long, grabbed Naruko by the waist to lift him up and place him on the bench. They switched places, Naruko blinking in surprise at the abrupt change in position. He was now almost level with Imaizumi. Even a little taller on that bench.

“What are you—”

“You're small,” Imaizumi replied, rubbing his nose against Naruko's cheek. “It's uncomfortable for me to reach you.”

“Uh—” Naruko said, still not understanding, but quickly shut up when Imaizumi slipped his hand under the fabric of his trousers and ran his fingers along the lower back. “Yeah. Okay,” Naruko said, pressing his face into his shoulder and moving his hand down to undo the buttons of his trousers.

Great — we'll be acting as one in the game, Imaizumi thought and grinned at his inappropriate thoughts.

His hand quickly found its way into Naruko's boxers within seconds. Almost without feeling embarrassed, Imaizumi was ready to solve the 'problem' since he had been so eagerly hinted at solving it, and he himself was starting to get turned on just from the mere vague realisation of his actions.

Good thing it didn't take Naruko much. A couple of minutes of unskillful movements, fingers firmly clenched on his cock, and he moaned softly, cumming. If it had lasted even a second longer, Imaizumi would have started asking for the same thing.

He actually managed to hold back only by a miracle. When he lowered Naruko back down to the floor, he had to bend over to push the bench away because it blocked access to the locker.

Imaizumi pulled out his wand in silence. Just as silently he applied the Cleaning spell, but when he turned to Naruko, the latter, still blushing, held up his palm, showing that he was fine.

He buttoned his trousers and sat down on the bench, pressing his palms to his flaming cheeks. Imaizumi looked up at him with a soft smile and almost said, ‘I love you’.

I love you. Three words — and an endless ocean of pain.

“Do you think Sakamichi can still return to the team?” Imaizumi asked, turning to the window.

“Huh?” Naruko replied in bewilderment. “Why do you ask? He had made it clear that he didn't want to play last year.”

“Yes, but still—”

“Well...” Naruko drawled thoughtfully and seemed to bang the back of his head against the locker. “Maybe if Manami would.”

“Manami? But he—” Imaizumi turned around.

“Yeah, there was some shit going on in fourth year,” Naruko agreed. “I don't know if he let Sakamichi win on purpose or not, but I don't want to talk to them about Quidditch. In case you haven't forgotten, Sakamichi almost died that day. I don't think they have any fond memories of it.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Imaizumi agreed, lowering his gaze.

“Leave them alone,” Naruko advised. “We can manage without Sakamichi, he's been through enough. Who knows — this might be his last chance to live at least some time in peace with the one... the one he loved.”

Biting his lip, Imaizumi remained silent and took off his red sports robe over his head.

“You're right, let's try,” he said, realising he had to answer that way.

They had to cope without Onoda. They had to give him a chance at a quiet life without the stress of Quidditch, and Imaizumi had to force himself to accept that as the undeniable truth.

Even if doing so seemed like an almost impossible task.

Chapter Text

The last weekend before Christmas week was always crowded in Hogsmeade. The villagers came out of their homes to finish decorating all around or to entertain each other and guests with themed performances and music, Hogwarts students came to shop and buy the last of their presents or just to walk around and relax. The noise was unimaginable.

At times like this, Imaizumi preferred not to leave the castle too much, but would such plans come to fruition when most of your friends and acquaintances adored these pretentious and overrated winter holidays and naturally tried to drag you everywhere with them?

It was no surprise that Naruko didn't leave him alone and even made him go to the ill-fated Hogsmeade with the Quidditch team on Sunday. As he left the dormitory, Imaizumi cast a doomed and almost envious glance at Manami, who had passed out so soundly, resting his head on the knee of Onoda reading a comic book, that Naruko had even decided not to disturb them.

Maybe Imaizumi should have pretended to be asleep too?

He'd honestly give a lot right now for a few hours of quiet reading, and the pre-holiday hustle and bustle that reminded him of itself every day now gave him a constant headache. And why the hell had time flown by so fast? It seemed like only yesterday to Imaizumi that he had arrived at Hogwarts, returning from the summer holidays, but here it was next week, the students would have to leave for the winter holidays. And he couldn't say he'd been busy every minute of his time here since the summer. No, in a way he had a lot on his mind: he was coaching his team, he was thinking up improved exercise routines, he sometimes helped Onoda with some of the organisational things that fell to the prefect, he did his homework, sometimes along with Naruko's homework, and he tutored his younger brothers. Still, there were spare moments when he could rest, and Imaizumi tried desperately to remember what he had spent them all on.

The weather this weekend was quite bearable. A little frosty but almost windless, and there was no snowstorm like it had earlier in the week. The unnecessary walk to Hogsmeade could be endured, and during the journey Imaizumi even began to think that, in principle, he was not against the current situation. Now, for some reason, Kaburagi's usually annoying shrill cries and his loud laughter when he talked about something were even calming, and Naruko was nearby, although that did not exclude the fact that Imaizumi would have preferred it to be just the two of them. Meanwhile, Naruko interfered in the conversation, speaking no quieter than their younger mate, and once again bragged that he would visit the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary during the holidays. Kaburagi was getting mad about it, and Sugimoto was... giving advice on how to behave if you were suddenly left alone with an adult dragon? As if something like that could really happen. Naruko, though, was still listening and stupidly absorbing everything because of his bad habit of equating any danger with entertainment.

When they finally got there, the first thing the guys did was get stuck in Honeydukes, and even Imaizumi decided to get himself something. It was then, while pulling money out of his bag, that he remembered that he had been carrying a small Muggle device he had bought back in the summer, near the Leaky Cauldron in London in it for a few days now. In fact, he'd wanted to give it to Naruko, knowing that the latter was almost fanatical about the things of the non-magical world, but the right moment never came, and the thing didn't work within Hogwarts. But maybe—

The thought came to his mind suddenly, but in order to check his assumption, it was best to wait for darkness, and probably to go to the edge of the village, away from the houses, where there were anyway magic items and possible Anti-Apparition charm. Imaizumi tried to keep that in mind throughout the day as he followed the boys around the few shops in Hogsmeade. The rest of their pocket money, of course, they went to spend at the Three Broomsticks, which was a fairly predictable end to the outing, though not entirely desirable for Imaizumi, because the popular pub was much noisier and stuffier than usual today.

He didn't think he could stand the loud discussions and arguments about school Quidditch and the upcoming World Cup for the rest of the day, but things got a lot easier when Naruko talked him into a mug of Butterbeer. After that, all sounds seemed to muffle, his head felt empty and his body felt light. The indifference was almost physically palpable, and Imaizumi was grateful for Naruko's new idea, but of course he didn't say it out loud.

“I don't think it's possible — she's a beginner and first time in the game!” Kaburagi almost shouted, standing up from his chair and slapping his palms on the table.

The discussion had already returned to the last match in December, and Naruko was back to one of his favourite pastimes, which was to provoke Kaburagi, who was overreacting as usual.

“Don't think you know Quidditch better than I do — I saw she was deliberately delaying catching the Snitch,” Naruko grinned slyly and jabbed a finger at Miki, who was sitting on a nearby chair. “And for a beginner, she's doing pretty well — we have live proof of that.”

“Thank you, Shoukichi, for remembering to remind me of how I lost the Snitch in my first match,” Miki smiled, although her look was clearly warning.

“Well, it was your first!” Naruko chuckled and took another generous sip from his mug. “I won my first one, sure, but you weren't as cool as I was in my second year— Ouch!”

Miki didn't skimp on the slap, which was to be expected, and Imaizumi had a hard time swallowing the chuckle the incident caused. But Naruko was right... at least in one of his statements, actually. Imaizumi had noticed, too, that the Ravenclaw Seeker in the Hufflepuff match had stalled the end of the game and caught the Snitch at exactly the moment she needed to. It required some serious skill, which apparently made many people think it was all a fluke, but Imaizumi wasn't a blind optimist and felt that they were going to have a hard time if they were still going to win the Cup at the end of the season.

As the time approached evening, Miki and her friend were the first to leave, and the rest of their company didn't stay long after them. They had planned to make it in time for the end of dinner at school, and when Sugimoto noticed that Imaizumi was in no hurry to get up, he was surprised.

“Aren't you coming?” he asked.

Naruko quickly finished the rest of the Butterbeer from the bottom of his mug and jumped up from his chair cheerfully, “We are!”

Yanking him back, Imaizumi ignored the questioning look and answered his own version, “Go on without us — we'll come back later.”

Sugimoto shrugged and looked at the boys waiting near the door.

“Make sure you get there before curfew,” he said before he left, and Naruko fidgeted impatiently in his seat.

“What's the matter, Hotshot? I'm hungry, and the Great Hall is having my favourite chicken tonight!”

“I'll pay for your meal here if you're still hungry,” Imaizumi rolled his eyes, noisily placing the money pouch on the table, and Naruko looked at it, pretending to consider the offer. In fact, he was already in agreement and soon quickly raised his hand as the owner's assistant walked past them.

“Hey! Bring us two more Butterbeers and more breadcrumbs!”

“I don't want to drink any more — I don't like it, you know that very well,” Imaizumi said grudgingly, but Naruko only laughed and shoved him in the shoulder.

“Don't be so boring! And wasn't the date your idea?”

“What date?” Imaizumi raised an eyebrow.

“The one that is happening now,” Naruko snickered. “You don't have to be shy — I know you want it so badly!”

“No, I don't!” Imaizumi blushed involuntarily. “I'm delayed for another reason! I just want to wait until it gets dark outside!”

“What's that for? To kiss without being noticed?” Naruko snorted with a chuckle.

Imaizumi glanced tiredly at the door, wishing he could escape.

“I'll explain later, okay? It's kind of a— uh— surprise.”

“I love surprises,” Naruko responded and jumped to his feet again, beckoning the guy with the tray over which his order was hovering without touching the surface.

Imaizumi stared out the window while Naruko paid for the Butterbeer and breadcrumbs with his money, and tried to figure out what time they needed to move out to be sure to get back to school before curfew. He wanted to wait until it was dark enough, otherwise (unless that Muggle thing refused to work) the effect wouldn't be as interesting.

“So,” Naruko said distractedly, and Imaizumi saw a new mug filled to the brim come towards him. Taking his own, Naruko himself suddenly walked around the table and sat down so that he was directly across from Imaizumi. “Another year is coming to an end — can you believe it, Hotshot?”

“Imagine that,” Imaizumi replied a little irritably, and Naruko's lips stretched into another snide grin.

“Do you want to sum it up?”

“What's that for?” Imaizumi asked boredly, watching Naruko take a sip from his mug before wiping the remaining cream from his mouth.

“Because it's been a crazy year! I can't even imagine what's to come!” he laughed. “There have been so many new and unpredictable things — when I remember some moments, they don't fit in my head.”

“Really? I thought you were excited about it,” Imaizumi grinned mockingly and then decided to take at least a couple of sips of his second drink.

“Well,” Naruko said thoughtfully, tossing a crouton in the air. He caught it with his mouth, chewed, and licked his lips. “You know, it's hard to speak definitively about all this. We did some nasty and painful things when we were learning how to make the artefact.”

“That's putting it mildly,” Imaizumi nodded, agreeing involuntarily.

“But still, our efforts finally paid off in April, right? And before that, we managed to win the Quidditch Cup again!” Naruko smiled broadly.

“Yeah. Because we have achieved this opportunity,” Imaizumi added nonchalantly.

“Honestly, I was shocked when I found out that you dragged Teshima into this too!” Naruko laughed again. “You told him our whole plan and he agreed to help!”

“Do you have to shout about it to the whole inn?” Imaizumi propped a hand on his cheek. Naruko gave a quick shake of his head.

“You know,” he said again, this time much quieter and reached forward, “I'm damn proud we made a working artefact. I mean, it's amazing! No-one's ever done anything like it!”

Imaizumi hummed. He didn't think of the artefact in that way — he just didn't have the time, because thinking about it only brought back unpleasant memories, with a lot of pain, arguments with his parents, and unpleasant consequences. It was as if the artefact and the one who wore it had become a sort of personification of everything that Imaizumi had consciously given up. Giving it up despite wanting it with all his heart. He broke his dream all by himself.

“And that thing allowed us to achieve our main goal!” Naruko added enthusiastically. Imaizumi grinned — well said, the 'thing'.

“Your lost brother is with you now. And every second, if you want,” he said, not naming Naruko and Manami's newfound ability to hear each other's thoughts. Imaizumi, to be honest, still couldn't get used to it. Sometimes this even bothered the owners themselves, but attempts to block the mental connection ended with little success.

“Hey, that wasn't intentional!” Naruko was outraged. “I mean— we didn't even realise how it happened! I didn't choose to aim at the collar when we were doing the sorcery; it took my magic itself.”

“It took your magic and gained the ability that keeps us from living in peace,” Imaizumi sighed, taking another sip of his Butterbeer. “How much has he seen already and learnt about your personal life?”

“Manami keeps quiet about all this — it doesn't go beyond our circle.”

“And it shouldn't have reached him either, right?”

“But he promised to help me pass my exams!” Naruko objected.

“Oh, you're so easy to buy,” Imaizumi grinned. “You do realise that's not fair, don't you?”

“Is it fair of my mom to want to kill me every time I get a bad grade?” Naruko turned away resentfully, folding his arms across his chest.

“Who's fault is it if you don't want to spend a little more time studying?” Imaizumi shrugged. “And if I were you, I'd study for next year's exams with my own head on my shoulders, not someone else's. I trust him, of course, but your plan doesn't look credible.”

“My plan is awesome,” Naruko disagreed, laughing. “I'll make the most of my opportunities.”

“Just don't come up with anything else bad with your opportunities,” Imaizumi replied, lowering his gaze and pressing his lips together involuntarily. “Doesn't it bother you at all what Manami said? About the artefact binding us together. He's kind of… drawn to us?”

“Why? I don't see anything to worry about,” Naruko snorted and scooped up some breadcrumbs with his hand. “He's fine as long as we're around, isn't he?”

“I don't know,” Imaizumi said tensely. “And we won't be around him all the time. We'll be away for a long time in the summer. And after school— What then? Will he… like miss us or something?”

“He'd miss me anyway!” Naruko chuckled, crunching a breadcrumb. “It's impossible not to miss Shoukichi Naruko!”

“You have fun,” Imaizumi sighed.

“Why bother?”

“It might have some truly negative consequences. You were right when you said that no one has ever created an artefact like this. So there's no way of knowing what else to expect from it. It's supposed to help Manami, but what if sooner or later it turns against him? And it will no longer be a harmless desire to be with those who created it.”

“Stop this boring stuff,” Naruko moaned after taking another sip. “I fucking hate talking about the future — it always sounds like some kind of shit.”

Without holding back chuckle, Imaizumi shut up and took up his mug. He was in agreement, actually, — even very much so. He hated talking about the future, too. Thoughts about the future. The future in general. Yes, it hadn't come yet and he already hated it.

“We won our first match of the season,” Imaizumi added, continuing Naruko's point about summarising the year.

“And we'll win all the others,” the latter seconded, sharply moving his mug forward to clatter against Imaizumi's. “Win and bring the Cup to Onoda.”

“Let's do it,” Imaizumi nodded and took a more serious sip this time.

Doing so was probably unnecessary because the alcohol, although weak, made him slowly get drunk. His head was pleasantly dizzy, and he wanted to laugh over any nonsense when Naruko started to continue the conversation about Quidditch. Imaizumi didn't want to go anywhere at all now — he just wanted to lie on the table and sleep right there until morning even if it was unacceptable for someone like him to behave in such an inappropriate manner. The degree of indifference grew as if under a spell.

It was good that Naruko still had a voice of conscience, which was actually a novelty because normally the role of the one who kept order was firmly entrenched in Imaizumi's hands — Butterbeer apparently had an incredible ability to turn the world upside down.

“Hey, are you even going home?” Naruko shouted and tugged at his ear as Imaizumi dozed over his finished mug at the last story. It seemed like there was something about—

“Home?” Imaizumi asked, his head almost fell off the hand he was propping it up with.

“To school, I mean!” Naruko barked. “I thought you'd be the first to mention it — I was relying on you, and look!” He jabbed his index finger at the window. “Curfew's in twenty minutes — I asked for the time! We won't make it even if we run all the way!”

“Give a shit,” Imaizumi replied sleepily, covering his mouth with his palm and yawning.

“What?” Naruko asked in a hoarse voice, then suddenly smiled. “Did I hear you just now? You don't care that our House might lose a decent amount of points when we show up at the castle after curfew? Is that really you, or did you get switched when I turned my back?”

“Yeah. It's kind of annoying, you know, chasing the School Cup every year,” Imaizumi agreed, rising lazily from his chair. “We lost it last year. What's stopping us from doing it this time?”

At those words, he picked up his bag, slung it carelessly on his shoulder, and strode off — Naruko, seeing that he wasn't going to hurry, let out what sounded like a half-strangled chuckle. But Imaizumi really didn't care that they were definitely going to be late for curfew. Their best friend is the Head Boy, besides, — he wouldn't take points off if he was the only one who found out. And even if not, it didn't matter anyway — you can't jump over your head, especially if you don't want to jump at all.

It was getting colder outside — it was clear as soon as they stepped outside the pub. The frosty air hit his face, penetrated his lungs through his nose, and made him come to his senses a little, but it was hardly enough to start thinking soberly. The villagers were walking and partying, some of them drunk, and Imaizumi felt like he'd lost his mind when he turned around, grabbed Naruko, who was following him, by the cheeks and kissed him hard.

“Are you crazy, Hotshot?” Naruko exclaimed, jerking back as soon as Imaizumi let go of him. “Are you kidding me, or have you lost your fear? They were looking at us!”

“Fuck it,” Imaizumi replied, walking on, adjusting his scarf as he went. “It's Christmas next week.”

Naruko snorted loudly again and ran after him.

“Look, I should talk you into drinking more often.”

Imaizumi grinned to himself and squeezed his hand on his bag. He needed to get farther away — the road leading to Hogwarts would probably be perfect for trying to... surprise Naruko.

Feeling impatient, Imaizumi even quickened his step, intending to get outside the village faster. Naruko, of course, didn't miss the chance and began to tease him again, saying something about an awakened conscience, but Imaizumi didn't listen and responded noncommittally. He was only thinking about whether he would be able to do what he had planned or not, and when the last houses of Hogsmeade were left behind, he stopped, turned around, and almost got hit in the face by a snowball.

“Oops!” Naruko blinked, shaking the snow off his gloved palms, and laughed. “Why are you turning around so fast?”

“If you throw it again, I'll bury you in a snowdrift,” Imaizumi said irritably and, taking a threatening step toward Naruko, quickly pulled the item he wanted to give him out of his bag and pressed it against his chest.

“Huh? What's that?” Naruko wondered, putting up his palm to intercept the metal handle as Imaizumi moved away.

“A torch.”

“What?” Naruko marvelled even louder, starting to look at it, twirling it around in his hands.

“A torch,” Imaizumi repeated. “It shines, okay? Er— it's supposed to shine... Wait, I forgot the batteries.”

“Batte— what?”

Naruko froze with his mouth hanging open as Imaizumi rummaged through his bag again. Those stupid things! Pulling them out, he took the torch from Naruko, unscrewed a small cap on the back and shoved the batteries inside, remembering to make sure they were facing in different directions.

“What are you doing?” Naruko asked, seemingly not understanding anything.

“Wizards use lamps for this, or use Lumos,” Imaizumi said, screwing the cap back on. “Muggles use electricity or shit like this to create light.”

He finished with the cap, grabbed the torch more comfortably, and pushed the button on the body up with his thumb. The change followed so instantly that he was startled and nearly unclenched his fingers. Holy shit, it worked!

Naruko jumped on the spot and bounced to the side as the bright light from the torch switched on hit the sleeve of his robe. Imaizumi aimed the beam at the snowdrift and felt almost ecstatic as he looked at the resulting snow-white circle.

“How the fuck did it do that?” Naruko exclaimed, and Imaizumi smiled contentedly — the surprise seemed to be a success.

“Batteries, I told you. They give power if they are charged.”

“Oh, wow,” Naruko exhaled delightedly and took the torch carefully from Imaizumi's hand, starting to shine it in all directions. “It's so cool! It illuminates a single point instead of scattering like Lumos!”

“Well, they come in different varieties,” Imaizumi replied. “This one has directional light or something.”

“Where did you get such a cool thing?” Naruko exclaimed happily, twisting around his axis again, looking like a little kid.

“I got it at a Muggle shop. It was cheap.”

“It's amazing stuff, isn't it?”

“Well...” Imaizumi said awkwardly, he honestly didn't think Naruko would be that happy.

“Have you been to the Muggle shop? Alone?” the latter asked, now starting to flick a button, switching the torch on and off.

“Er— no. I met Kinjou when I was in Diagon Alley at the end of August. So I asked him to come with me,” Imaizumi explained. “He helped me pick out something simple and small.”

“Wow! You met Kinjou? Why didn't you say anything? The old man hasn't written to me for a long time — I don't even know what's going on there!”

“He had a holiday, and he keeps playing and wants to join the national team in the future. I don't think you'd hear anything new. And we didn't talk much — he mostly told me about these... Muggle devices.”

“And you—” Naruko froze, hesitant to finish the question, and Imaizumi sighed doomfully.

“I've been thinking about you. I wanted to buy you a birthday present, but I didn't dare to send it. So I'm giving it to you now.”

“Oh, that's so sweet,” Naruko said in a mocking tone, then jumped up to Imaizumi and wrapped his arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. “It's the best present ever, really!”

“Do you think so?” Imaizumi asked, hesitantly hugging back.

“Yep. Can I really keep it?” Naruko asked, raising his head.

“Of course — it's yours. It doesn't work at Hogwarts, but you'll be able to use it at home. Just don't leave the batteries inside.”

“Great, I got it! Thank you, Shunsuke...”

Imaizumi shuddered involuntarily as Naruko kissed him, touching his chin with his lips. It was so hot and exciting that, once again, Imaizumi leaned in and pulled Naruko into the kiss, feeling like he couldn't leave here if he didn't.

“It's like deja vu, isn't it?” Naruko asked after and slowly licked his lower lip as if hypnotising him with his tongue. “Only then it was daytime.”

Imaizumi smiled, remembering how they had once kissed in almost the exact same spot as they left Hogsmeade.

“And you asked me to date,” Naruko added.

Because I love you madly, Imaizumi said to himself and exhaled, watching a cloud of vapour billow out over the red-haired top of the head.

And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that I won't be able to date you for the rest of my life.

“Listen,” Naruko continued, reluctantly unclasping his hands. “Now I want to get you something for Christmas, too.”

“М?” Imaizumi replied in surprise, to which Naruko nodded, motioning for him to continue on his way.

He tucked the switched off torch into his pocket and nudged Imaizumi forward along the road.

“It won't be as cool a gift as yours, of course, but I just feel like I have to do it. It's at school. In our dorm,” Naruko explained. “And um— What are we going to do when someone catches us?”

“We don't go in the front door, we go in through the broom room — I have a key,” Imaizumi replied, starting to move his legs faster — he had frozen almost immediately when Naruko had stopped hugging him.

“What? We're wasting more time this way,” he said indignantly.

“Shut your mouth and walk if you don't want to swallow cold air and wake up with a sore throat tomorrow,” was all Imaizumi said.

Naruko surprisingly obeyed, even if it didn't last long. Fifteen minutes into the journey, he was talking again, of course, and then started playing with the torch again until it flickered and went out as they approached the Hogwarts grounds.

And perhaps entering the castle through the broom room had been a good idea because they didn't meet anyone on the ground floor, and then they were able to get up to Gryffindor Tower without incident. The common room was quiet and dark, as was the rest of the school when they passed the portrait, waking dozing Fat Lady, and only now were they both able to breathe a real sigh of relief.

“Had we been walking for so long? Oh, for fuck's sake!” Naruko exclaimed in a whisper, stopping beside the couch where an open book, forgotten by one of the students, lay.

Imaizumi pulled out his pocket watch to check the time, but it was really late.

“I guess we kissed for a long time.” He shrugged quietly, and Naruko turned around and chuckled softly.

“Stay here,” he asked, walking over to the dresser to light the lamp. “I'll get your present. Just promise not to laugh!”

“I won't,” Imaizumi smiled weakly, pulling the scarf off his neck and unbuttoning his robe.

Naruko hurried up the stairs to the dormitory, and soon his footsteps were silent. Dropping his clothes on the armrest of the couch, Imaizumi sat down beside it, covered his eyes and pressed the back of his head against the soft backrest. Fatigue came over him in a heavy snow avalanche, and only now was it possible to feel how much of a busy day today had been. And a happy one, too. Happy, of course.

After something like that, one could fall into the most restful deep sleep, and Imaizumi was indeed almost asleep before Naruko deigned to return.

“Hey!” he said, causing him to open his eyes.

Imaizumi blinked sleepily, seeing Naruko's hands in front of him, holding a— um— plush toy?

“W-what?” Imaizumi asked stupidly, turning back slightly and raising his head.

Naruko was standing behind the back of the couch, still holding the toy in his outstretched arms in front of Imaizumi, and a faint blush appeared on his cheeks.

“Here,” Naruko ordered insistently, almost shoving this toy in Imaizumi's face, causing him to still have to obey and take it.

It was just an old plush dragon. Red and already quite shabby. It might have once been able to do something interesting, maybe growl, but now of course the spell on it had weakened. Imaizumi looked at the toy in his hands and tried desperately to understand...

“His name is Dino,” Naruko said as he walked around the couch and sat down next to him. “This is my first toy from my childhood that I can remember. I loved it very much, and even when I grew up, I kept taking it with me to Hogwarts. Sometimes I wanted to take it to bed, but I held back.”

“Eh—” Imaizumi said confused, but Naruko interrupted him, turning menacingly.

“Don't you dare tell anyone about this! I'll die of shame if anyone finds out!”

“I won't!” Imaizumi objected. “Why does he have such a strange name? It's a dragon, not a dinosaur.”

“When I was a kid, I thought they were the same thing!” Naruko snorted resentfully.

“I see,” Imaizumi replied with a chuckle and set the toy on his lap. “But since he's your favourite, why are you giving him to me? Wouldn't it be better for... you to keep him?”

“I want you to have him,” Naruko said, looking at the extinguished fireplace. “That's what I've decided.”

“Are you sure?” Imaizumi asked cautiously.

“Yes,” Naruko nodded, turning his head in his direction and giving him a thumbs-up. “Take care of him since he's my favourite, okay?”

Imaizumi pressed his lips together tensely, feeling like he couldn't answer right away. And for some reason, it seemed to him so keenly that he was missing something important... Something Naruko was trying to tell him with his action.

“I'll— try,” Imaizumi forced himself to say, seeing the demanding look in his eyes. The look softened after that phrase, and Naruko smiled.

“In that case... Merry upcoming Christmas, Shunsuke.”

Chapter Text

He had to forget about the peace in his life again as soon as the Christmas holidays were over. But at least, Imaizumi truly had rested during the days he spent at home, while outside the windows either frost was setting in or a snowstorm was raging. His parents were away at work or on work-related business most of the time, and he simply enjoyed the quiet and solitude of being able to sleep late into the morning or when he could read in the home library without the expectation that Naruko or any of the other guys would barge in sooner or later to disrupt the plans again.

The busy and almost frantic pace of the first term of the sixth year had made the winter holidays a real breath of fresh air and helped him to come to his senses, which was a welcome relief. Imaizumi had a gut feeling that he needed his strength for the next few months, and as it turned out later, he had been thinking about it for good reason.

Another journey on the Hogwarts Express was just a warm-up, really. A warm-up for something truly serious and unsettling.

Assuming Naruko and his younger brothers would find his compartment was no problem. Of course, the four of them travelled together, as they had after the summer holidays, and one of the first challenges for Imaizumi was to endure a few hours of three Narukos company. The three, it should have been said, were very excited and energetic Narukos because they were quick to remind him that they had travelled as a family to the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary, and naturally everyone now had many impressions and their own versions of what had happened for the whole trip in general.

Imaizumi was even interested in listening to them at first when Shingo, shouting over his older brother, started talking about how crowded the Muggle airport was and what they had to do to get on board the plane. This basically tolerable moment didn't last long, though, because his head ached after the first two hours, and by the end of the journey Imaizumi wanted to die of overwork.

He was almost happy when he finally managed to leave the stuffy compartment and get out into the fresh winter air. Hogsmeade Station was soothing with its unchanging atmosphere of something very familiar, and when Naruko stood next to Imaizumi with his small bag slung on his shoulder, he was smiling, too, though his smile was more cheeky than relaxed.

“I even managed to miss it,” Naruko drawled in a snide tone before all the guys headed off to the carriages that were to take them straight to the castle. “He hardly waits for us, can you imagine? Looks like someone had a great Christmas holiday.”

Imaizumi grinned silently as he followed the main group of students off the train. Naruko's words brought to mind the fact that Onoda and Manami had stayed at the school all this time, but he didn't want to think about what they were doing, because it was obvious. Obvious and even a little envious. A couple of times, while travelling along the snowy rough road in carriages, Imaizumi thought about it. He wouldn't mind spending at least one such holiday just the two of him and Naruko, either, but fantasising about it was pretty painful, and some part of him really hoped Naruko wasn't doing the same. But a couple of weeks... and just together. It would be like a drawn out long date. They could fight a hundred times in that time. And make up just as many times. They'd do something crazy because if Imaizumi didn't agree, Naruko would start to goad him, and in that case it was impossible to hold back.

And also... they would definitely be happy.

Such thoughts could easily make him go insane. Imaizumi could hardly hold back a smile as he felt the weight of disappointment and inability to fulfil even the smallest of desires, and the further he went, the harder it became to think that the fact that he had given it all up of his own free will was only for the good of others. Because being a saint... or even just a good person is not such an easy thing to do. And even though many people seemed to think that Imaizumi's actions were noble and selfless, it now seemed more and more often that there was not a shred of truth to it.

The truth in fact was rather something disgusting and pathetic.

It was no surprise that already in the hall they were met by Onoda and Manami. Onoda lit up with joy at seeing them, while Manami and Naruko exchanged strange glances between them. Something remained a mystery to Imaizumi again, but he probably felt used to (or resigned to) their non-verbal communication or exchange of mental images.

And everything would be fine, but something seemed to be wrong. Imaizumi hadn't noticed it from the first moment he'd returned, but Onoda... had somehow changed. He was tense and confused at the same time, as if something was bothering him, but Imaizumi didn't dare ask about it, and Naruko was too busy telling everyone about the dragon sanctuary and showing them the photos he'd made, which seemed to have been in the hands of everyone in Gryffindor Tower in just one evening.

What could have happened so seriously in just one short holiday? Imaizumi wondered as it was late at night when things had calmed down and everyone had gone to bed. He was lying on his side as he fell asleep, and on the next bed, Onoda was staring at the ceiling, not even thinking about sleep, and that was not a good sign.

Maybe it's something wrong with Manami again, came a momentary thought, but after that Imaizumi didn't think anymore, because he passed out.

He honestly didn't want to get involved in this, especially when it came to relationships, but things were... oddly simpler. And more complicated at the same time, and not about relationships at all.

He didn't even need to demand answers to his questions — everything soon revealed itself, already on the first day of resumed studies. Manami was tense during the common DADA class and then said that the four of them needed to talk, preferably away from the castle, which made Imaizumi realise quite quickly that his suspicions were confirmed and that the situation was serious. Naruko was also concerned. He tried to get something out of Onoda, but he was stubbornly silent, as if he knew the worst secret in the world. Imaizumi didn't like it, and for some reason he felt that it wouldn't get any easier once he found out.

Nevertheless, there was no choice but to go and find out the truth, and Manami set up a conversation near the shore of the frozen Black Lake, starting in a rather unexpected way. With the question of who had sealed the artefact he was wearing, the artefact that the four of them had made last year.

What Imaizumi learned next should, by all reasonable accounts, have at least surprised him, if not shocked him, but he somehow felt quite at ease. Probably when you get too many surprising things in life, sooner or later you start to get used to them. You start to take them for granted. Well.

Onoda was the one who sealed the artefact. None of the four of them remembered that, which led to one obvious conclusion that seemed reasonable to Imaizumi because the situation was essentially pure madness. To allow a wizard with Obscurus to return to school with the other students and allow the key to the only thing that would contain his destructive power to be around all the time. How do you imagine this to work?

Is this what the Ministry had been thinking about all the while they were waiting for some news? The plan turned out to be a good one — Imaizumi appreciated it, even if, on the other hand, he was unhappy that his memories had been modified without his consent, without warning. And the plan had worked, though it was ultimately not perfect since it had only remained secret for six months.

Now they didn't just have Obscurus. They had an Obscurus that they could free just by wishing it, and that, frankly, was a so-so position to be in. No, Imaizumi certainly trusted Onoda and believed him to be prudent, but who knows.

It was scary to imagine what could happen in the worst-case scenario, but Imaizumi didn't have time to take it in, because Manami suddenly started talking about their new Professor. Mr Ishigaki. It turned out Manami had reason to believe that modifying the memories might not be about the safety of the school at all, but rather about a person who might have been interested in the power of Obscurus.

This time, Imaizumi's head really did almost spin. Manami told that he had the ability to see the past and future, and that through this ability (which was insanely hard to believe, even if Imaizumi admitted that something like this could exist in the wizarding world), he saw the image of a wizard next to Professor Ishigaki. This mysterious and nameless wizard had used Cruciatus, as Manami had said, and he also seemed to be able to cast magic without a wand — great news, that was all they needed.

After that conversation, one thing was certain: Unless Manami was mistaken, Ishigaki was involved with a very dangerous wizard who seemed to have bad intentions. About the other, it was debatable. Even if Ishigaki had (for some inexplicable reason) warned Manami of the danger, Imaizumi didn't know what they themselves should do in such a case. Was it really as they might have guessed? Was Manami really in danger now because of his Obscurus, because some dark wizard wanted to what... recruit him?

Imaizumi wanted to moan at the complexity of it all and the lack of understanding of what they should do about it, and he successfully ignored the moment when Onoda (after Manami had suggested contacting Onoda's father to sort things out) had freaked out and almost got into a fight with Manami. There were some personal problems between the two of them, which was easy to guess now, and after recovering from all the information, Imaizumi suddenly felt a strong and unpleasant sadness as he looked at Onoda, who was sobbing and smearing tears on his cheeks, refusing to explain anything.

And it was only the first day of school in the new term. What were they to expect in the near future if things were already so fucked up?

Imaizumi certainly thought about what he could do, but he was out of ideas, and he somewhat acknowledged Manami's suggestion to go to at least an adult he himself trusted for answers. To top it all off, Onoda's father worked at the Auror Office, which also acted in their favour, but Onoda himself was reluctant to write to him for some reason, and again he didn't voice his reasons.

That could make things even more complicated. They didn't need a rift right now, but fortunately or not, Manami and Onoda's feelings for each other were serious enough that they could work things out between them without spending too much time on grudges.

What exactly had happened, Imaizumi didn't know and hardly had the right to ask, but somehow Manami had managed to convince Onoda to do what he wanted. Send his father a note requesting a meeting. Upon hearing this, Imaizumi felt impatient because he too wanted to shed some light on the situation, and God, how afraid he was that the most undesirable and horrible scenario would be confirmed in the future. What would happen then? Would the wizarding world be in for a new war? And what if some people already knew about it?

Because of these anxious thoughts, Imaizumi couldn't concentrate on anything. He had stopped getting high grades in his studies, and it was a good thing it was still cold for Quidditch practice now, otherwise he would have started failing those too. But right now, doing anything really didn't seem possible. They could all just speculate and wait for Manami and Onoda to talk to Onoda's father. Would he be able to reassure them or, on the contrary, would he confirm all their fears?

When the day of the meeting came, Naruko couldn't go to Hogsmeade. That way they would have known everything at once, but on Friday there had been a horribly ridiculous incident when Naruko had injured his eyes in dueling practice because of one of Kaburagi's reckless but spectacular spells (Imaizumi really hoped the two wouldn't kill each other before graduation). Naruko had to stay in the Hospital Wing on Saturday morning, so Manami and Onoda went alone, while Imaizumi decided not to leave Naruko in the infirmary, knowing that he might take offence.

He'd been sitting by his bedside since the morning and most of the afternoon — during this time Naruko was not allowed to remove the blindfold from his eyes. It was terribly uncomfortable. He had to take him to the bathroom, guide his hand if he was close to swiping a spoon past his plate, and the rest of the time Imaizumi didn't know what to do to keep him occupied. He wasn't a good conversationalist, and even Naruko eventually grew bored of listening to him talk about Quidditch strategies. A couple of hours after lunch, his brothers came by as well, but they weren't allowed to stay long by the Healer, believing that one visitor was more than enough. Imaizumi could barely keep from sighing heavily at that moment.

“Hey, Shingo, wait,” he called out to one of brothers when they were not far from the exit. “If it's not too much trouble, bring the radio from the common room over here. It'll make the time pass faster.”

Shingo nodded, smiling, and hurried the younger one out. Naruko stretched his lips in a mocking grin on the bed. He settled back into a semi-reclined position on the pillow and mechanically reached for the blindfold again — it was getting in his way, Imaizumi realised, but he stopped his hand again, taking it by the wrist.

“You could've sung for me yourself, Hotshot,” Naruko sneered, and Imaizumi rolled his eyes.

“I wasn't planning to look for music. I thought there might be a Quidditch match on.”

“Who would play in this cold,” Naruko snorted, lowering his hand.

“It's not winter everywhere in the world, for your information,” Imaizumi replied grudgingly, glancing up at the tall windows of the infirmary. About the cold weather, at least here, Naruko was right, of course.

Shingo was delayed in fulfilling the request. He didn't return until half an hour later, which seemed like a very long time, and Imaizumi went to the exit to grab the shabby radio.

“Sorry. Had to take it by battle,” Shingo said with a wink, then left again, and Imaizumi turned around to look for active waves.

“There's going to be a Championship this year,” Naruko said casually, stroking the rabbit in his lap that Imaizumi had brought in the morning.

“I know,” Imaizumi replied calmly, continuing his work. His parents had said they'd probably get tickets to the finals, but he didn't want to talk about it now — Naruko wouldn't be happy about it anyway.

“You and I have been listening to the radio like this,” Naruko continued as Imaizumi returned to his seat. “Just the two of us.”

The phrase made his cheeks flame for some reason, and Imaizumi was grateful that Naruko couldn't see him right now.

“Got it,” Imaizumi perked up, finally catching the broadcast. He turned the sound down so that the Healer wouldn't scold him, and listened, trying to make out the names of the players to see what teams were playing. “Look, it's Puddlemere United. They're playing the French. I wonder where they're playing.”

“Beat back those Bludgers, boys, and chuck that Quaffle here!” Naruko grinned, almost in song. “I hear they have a new Keeper now, while the old one is training for England.”

“I'm not betting on England. If they come close to the final, it'll be a miracle,” Imaizumi muttered quietly, setting the radio on the bedside table.

“Hey! I heard that,” Naruko replied resentfully. “This is the national team of the country you were born in, by the way.”

“Just listen to the broadcast,” Imaizumi asked, smiling weakly.

Naruko snorted something unintelligible but obeyed nonetheless, and there was silence between them for a while. It did remind Imaizumi of summer in some ways, of that brief visit when he had dared to come to Naruko via the Floo Network. Back then, too, they had just listened to the Quidditch broadcast in silence. Only they were sitting much closer together, and they were also holding hands. It had been great then if not a little sad.

“Hey, Naruko,” Imaizumi called out quietly, noticing that it was getting a little darker outside the windows. Evening was approaching, and Onoda and Manami would be back from Hogsmeade soon with news.

“What?” Naruko asked, pausing from listening to the broadcast. One would have thought he had even fallen asleep, just like the rabbit in his lap — he had been silent for far too long.

Imaizumi bit his lip involuntarily. He himself didn't know why he opened his mouth. Why he wanted to ask—

“Would you— No. I'm sorry. It's stupid.”

“What are you muttering to yourself?” Naruko asked unhappily. “If you want to declare your love, go ahead, I won't laugh.”

“I wasn't going to declare my love!” Imaizumi replied indignantly, raising his tone, and Naruko smirked.

“That's better. I like your silly emotions.”

“What do you mean silly?” Imaizumi asked irritably, struggling to get his voice back to a more or less acceptable volume.

“I'm kidding, Hotshot,” Naruko smiled again. “Just kidding. You've been a little overloaded lately. Cheer up.”

“Don't act like you don't care that we might all be in danger. The Auror Office has cut back on staff — who's going to protect wizards and Muggles if there's a wizarding war?”

“You're fucking paranoid,” Naruko replied with a chuckle. “We don't know anything yet. And you seriously think Ishigaki is in cahoots with some criminal?”

“Just because you like him doesn't mean he's good. He may only seem that way,” Imaizumi frowned.

“Even so,” Naruko made this assumption clearly through force, “one person can't start a war. He needs allies.”

“How do you know he doesn't have allies?”

“Well, he doesn't have the most important thing,” Naruko smiled, grinning grimly. “He has no Obscurus. And we won't give it to him. Obscurus can destroy anything. A Quidditch pitch. An army of dark wizards. What difference does it make?”

“You—” Imaizumi was taken aback, nearly choking. What was Naruko even saying? What was he talking about?

“Calm down, Hotshot,” Naruko said, losing his smile. “I didn't mean it, I just thought I'd keep the game going.”

“Do you think I was joking when I mentioned the possibility of war?” Imaizumi was almost insulted. “You're right about Obscurus being able to destroy. That's all it can do. And someone might need it for that purpose.”

“We don't know that anyone needs it,” Naruko reminded him. “Why have you made up your mind already? Calm down and at least wait to see what Manami and Sakamichi have to say when they get back.”

Imaizumi fell silent, feeling hurt, though on some level he realised he was overreacting and panicking prematurely. But how much chance did they even have that things would turn out okay? How was he supposed to calculate that probability?

“You wanted to tell me something else, didn't you?” Naruko asked after a couple of minutes. He didn't seem to be listening to the broadcast anymore either.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Imaizumi agreed reluctantly. “But I'd rather not talk about it, really.”

“You better should have declared your love,” Naruko sighed, sliding down the pillow a little. “Like— to hell with it.”

“Manami too?” Imaizumi grinned. “He's your brother.”

“No, not Manami, of course,” Naruko replied. “What did you tell your parents so they wouldn't stop him from going back to school? Promised them you'd be a good boy?”

“Something like that,” Imaizumi agreed quietly.

“Oh fuck,” Naruko said and puckered his lips. “Remind Sakamichi to say thank you.”

“Don't say anything to him,” Imaizumi replied dryly. “You hear me? It was my choice. He's had enough — he's carrying too much on his shoulders as it is.”

“As you wish,” Naruko shrugged. “It's like I envy him. Though his fate is far from enviable. Sometimes I wonder... how he'll get over it...”

“Naruko...” Imaizumi called out quietly, trying to stop him.

“He's been with him since first year,” Naruko said in a shaky voice anyway. “Grew up with him together.”

“Just like I did with you.”

“What?”

“Since first year,” Imaizumi explained, lowering his gaze and feeling like he was about to shiver too. “We did everything together. Side by side. Fighting, pushing each other, trying to outdo each other. All these years. But some things change, even against our will. I don't want to outdo you anymore. To be better at something. I want us to fight for something together.”

Naruko grinned and stroked the sleeping rabbit again.

“Me too, Hotshot. Me too.”

“So...” Imaizumi said. “Don't be so envious.”

Time will come and you'll lose me just like Onoda will lose Manami, Imaizumi thought and immediately mentally scolded himself. Why did that sound so hopeless? Would he really not find the strength to fight again? Could he not dare—

“Who's winning?” a voice asked, and Imaizumi even flinched in surprise.

He turned his head and saw the Healer walking towards them. And he hadn't even heard her footsteps.

“Er—” he said awkwardly, realising he had no idea what the score was now. “I don't know.”

“Puddlemere wins,” Naruko said instead, though there was a second of confusion on the Healer's face.

“Good,” she said. “Now I'll take off the blindfold and take a look at your eyes. Everything should be fine.”

Naruko perked up at that. Imaizumi had to take the rabbit out of the way, and Madam Bland began to carefully unwind the bandage. When it was removed, Naruko blinked funny, apparently getting used to the light, and Imaizumi hoped he wouldn't have to wear the bandage again.

“Is there anything in the way? How do you see?” the Healer asked.

“Mm... kind of normal. It's just a little unpleasant,” Naruko replied thoughtfully, looked at Imaizumi and smiled.

“It's because of the drops,” Madam Bland explained. “If you sleep overnight, the feeling will go away.”

“Thank you very much!” Naruko was pleased. “Can I go to the common room?”

“Yes. Dinner's in a couple of hours, but save your eyes and don't read anything tonight.”

Naruko jumped out of bed vigorously and began to put on his shoes.

“Don't worry, you can't make him take a book in his normal state either,” Imaizumi told the Healer with barely concealed irritation.

Naruko was almost sprinting when he got the chance to leave, but Imaizumi held him back and made him walk at a relaxed pace — they weren't in any hurry anyway. Onoda and Manami would have stopped by the infirmary if they had already returned from Hogsmeade, but they were somehow delayed. Had the conversation taken so long? Or maybe there had been some kind of problem?

It was foolish to guess now, they should just wait, and Imaizumi decided that they just needed time to go to Gryffindor Tower. He was already hungry again, and it wouldn't hurt to feed the rabbit as well.

He and Naruko were not far from the entrance when somewhere behind them they heard hurried footsteps that seemed very familiar. A couple of seconds later, Onoda's voice called out to them, and Imaizumi quickly felt like a taut string. There they were.

“Hey, Sakamichi, I thought you'd been kidnapped by centaurs on the way back!” Naruko laughed, stopping and turning around.

“Sorry for the delay,” Onoda said out of breath, finally reaching them. Manami was with him as well. Pale and with a kind of suppressed smile on his face — not a good thing. “We went straight to the infirmary, but Madam Bland said she'd just let you go and you both left.”

“Yeah!” Naruko responded. “And here we are. How was it?”

“There's a lot to tell,” Manami frowned slightly and looked at the group of Gryffindor first-years passing by, who looked back at him with some apprehension. “If you have time, we'd better go deeper into the corridor.”

“Of course!” Naruko enthused and quickly changed his original course.

Imaizumi was the last to follow, feeling the air around him fill with an invisible electricity. An unpleasant one. He was almost ready to swear that Manami wasn't going to tell them anything good.

They walked away from the entrance to the Gryffindor common room in almost complete silence, and before talking about anything, Manami stood for almost a minute with his head down, as if listening to something. It sent shivers down Imaizumi's spine, but somehow he realised that it was Manami's way of invoking his gift for knowing things he shouldn't know.

“I found him,” Manami said suddenly, then reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a photo.

Imaizumi frowned involuntarily when he saw the people depicted in it. All adult wizards in some sort of office, probably a ministry one, and among them—

Imaizumi felt himself flinch as he faced that gaze. It was strange, somehow abnormal, and troubled far more unpleasant feelings than it should have. Something was wrong here.

“The tallest,” Manami said, pointing to the very man that made Imaizumi's blood run cold. “That's Akira Midousuji. I saw him next to Professor Ishigaki, they're really related. He's working at the Ministry of Magic now.”

“But how did he—” Naruko blinked incomprehensibly.

“Simple,” Imaizumi wrinkled his nose. “His wand is clean of illegal spells because he doesn't need it to cast magic.”

“That sucks. And we can't bring anything against him now, can we?” Naruko asked.

“That's right,” Manami nodded. “He acts very carefully, avoiding trouble with the law. But it's not just him I've learnt about. His father— He was a scary man, conducting magical experiments, and when there were victims, he framed another to stay out of suspicion. And he was interested in Obscurus'.”

“What do you mean?” Naruko blinked again, looking at Manami.

“His son, Akira, doesn't want me on his side. He probably wants to take my power away. All of it. He has no use for me. Just my Obscurus...”

And Manami said the craziest thing. Something that did not fit in the head at all and seemed to be pure nonsense: Midousuji's father had somehow developed a formula with which, apparently, it was possible to 'plant' the extracted Obscurus to another wizard, to make the magic of the Obscurus and the magic of the new host enter into a kind of symbiosis. Insanity and nothing else. Imaizumi couldn't even imagine how it could work, but the more he tried to figure it out, the more a strange sense of panic gripped him. He didn't notice he was starting to shiver until Naruko took his hand, a worried look on his face.

“Hey, are you okay?”

With a shake of his head, Imaizumi wrapped himself more tightly in his unbuttoned robe, and the rabbit in his hand seemed to perk his ears up with concern as well, reaching closer to his owner.

“Nothing good, really,” Manami said, pulling out his wand to use Incendio to burn the photo. “Except for the moment with the modification of memories. It was a Ministry edict for the safety of the school, and if Professor Ishigaki found those memories in my head in the first lesson, then we have a slight advantage. We can't say one hundred per cent that Midousuji will come for me, but if he's really aiming for that, he'll have to find the key to the magic artefact first. Obscurus is useless with the artefact, and it can't be extracted in the required form.”

“So he's looking for the person from your modified memories,” Imaizumi realised, still twitching tensely.

“That's just nightmarish! Professor Ishigaki can't be on the bad side!” Naruko groaned doomily. “I'm terribly disappointed if that's the case.”

“Are you seriously thinking about it at a time like this?” Imaizumi frowned sternly.

“Yes,” Manami replied to Imaizumi's previous words. “But sooner or later he'll still realise that he's been tricked because the person he's looking for just doesn't exist in all likelihood. Then I don't know what will happen. Sakamichi's father said he's keeping an eye on Midousuji, but I shouldn't relax either. I'll have to be on the lookout.”

“Welcome to adulthood,” Imaizumi said dryly, actually realising that his sarcasm was no more appropriate than Naruko's whining, disappointed with his favourite Professor.

* * *

It wasn't that the new information made it easier to breathe out — quite the opposite, but Imaizumi had really hoped it wouldn't get any worse. As it turned out, he had been wrong.

For a whole week he felt strange, anxious, even if he tried to concentrate on his studies again. But as soon as the homework was finished, he began to feel it again...

Something's wrong, his intuition seemed to repeat to him, and more and more vividly Imaizumi began to feel that he was missing something important, that he had forgotten something he shouldn't have.

In early February, he began to sleep badly. He had nightmares that eluded him almost immediately upon waking, and if he tried to remember them, his head began to ache. One Wednesday he even woke up long before breakfast and couldn't get back to sleep, staring dumbly at the dark red canopy of his bed. Almost desperately he tried to figure out what was happening to him, recognising that this was all extremely bad timing right now.

Why had this even started in the first place? Why had it started after Manami had told them about Midousuji? Everything has to have a reason, right?

But even though Imaizumi was sure of his thoughts, he still didn't see any way out, trying to write off his strange panic to the fact that he was, as Naruko had said, really an alarmist. It was just that he was in a situation he wasn't prepared for. There were just still too many unknowns in the new situation. It was just... he didn't want anything else to disrupt his already troubled life.

It was disgusting to admit it — it was easier to deceive himself, but Imaizumi felt like he couldn't do it anymore, it was beyond him. He had to admit to himself that... he was afraid of new problems. That he wanted to avoid them at all costs. That he wanted to be sure of tomorrow.

With the threat in their lives, that had become even more difficult, and it was simply too much to believe in anything good.

That was how weakness showed itself in new colours.

When he arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast, after failing to get back to sleep again, the first thing he did was to unfold the new issue of the Daily Prophet delivered by the owl and glance quickly through the front page. He caught himself looking for notices of assaults or missing persons. He was looking for something bad, it seemed, completely mechanically.

But there was nothing criminal in the paper. Except for a small article interviewing a shopkeeper in Diagon Alley from whom an inept thief had tried to steal an enchanted sugar bowl.

Setting the newspaper aside next to his plate, Imaizumi nibbled on his omelette without appetite, then glanced at the front page again. Was he going crazy?

'...rich pureblood families sometimes find it very difficult to keep their savings,' the reporter told. It was about the high reliability of the Gringotts Wizarding Bank, but Imaizumi skipped the article, even though he used to prefer to start reading the newspaper from the beginning.

He wrinkled his nose because the text brought back unpleasant memories he preferred not to disturb. The rich and purebloods had their own problems with money. And some people could use the most nefarious methods to achieve their goals...

Still taking his breakfast, Imaizumi began to think again. He hadn't noticed that he'd eaten too much, and went to his first class with a heavy stomach, but that was hardly a distraction from the thought process.

I need to go to the library, I need to go to the library, he repeated to himself as he and Naruko arrived at the Potions class. He wasn't in the mood to look up the ingredients or read a chapter of the textbook right now, and Imaizumi had thought it would be better to skip the next class, but he went to Muggle Studies with a clear conscience and impatience, and then, skipping lunch, he finally went to the library to ask for access to the seven-year-old Daily Prophet.

The librarian gave him a slightly surprised look — apparently she was curious as to why the student had chosen such a clear time period — but didn't ask anything and simply offered to follow her.

The newspapers were in a separate section at the very back of the room. The librarian found a stack of bound bundles stacked on the floor and pointed to it.

“Thank you very much,” Imaizumi thanked her dryly, looking down at the impressive height of the stack.

He honestly couldn't remember which dates to look for the information he was searching for. He had to use his memory again to pull at least the time of year out of his recollection.

It was early autumn, Imaizumi muttered to himself and tensely pulled his wand out of his pocket.

He took the August, September, and October issues just in case, walked back out to the tables and started untying the stacks on the free one, realising that he'd probably have to look through at least thirty newspapers.

Not so much, I guess, Imaizumi mentally summarised, sitting down on a chair to pick up the first August issue.

He seemed to be reading much more carefully and thoughtfully than his search required, but it was hard to notice. He got carried away, forgetting about time, and only came to his senses when he finally found the article he wanted in the paper of the tenth of September.

An article... about himself.

Clutching the edges of the issue in his fingers so tightly that the paper crumpled, Imaizumi began to read with bated breath, trying not to miss the slightest detail, and that was just the beginning. He had to go through the rest of the issues as well to find the continuation of the story and its... ending.

By the time he got to the very end, his eyes were hurting and his left temple tingled, but he still couldn't stop, not even to slow down for a minute.

A paper bag was suddenly placed on the table next to him, and a bottle of pumpkin juice clinked — only then did Imaizumi look up from the newspaper. Standing in front of him was Naruko — looking a little dazed, surprised.

“What are you doing with this old thing?” he asked, turning one of the papers towards him and looking at the year of issue. “You weren't there for dinner, and now it's evening. Are you going to starve yourself?”

“Er— no,” Imaizumi replied, reaching into the package to find two thick ham and greens sandwiches inside. It smelled so appetising that he couldn't help himself and took one right away, realising that he was indeed insanely hungry.

“As far as I know, you didn't choose History of Magic,” Naruko said, sitting down on a nearby chair and looking at the titles of the articles. “What the fuck do you need these issues for?”

“They're not that old,” Imaizumi said, chewing a large bite. “I was nine years old at the time.”

“So?” Naruko asked boredly, resting his cheek on his hand. “You're reliving your childhood memories, aren't you?”

“It's not a good memory,” Imaizumi said, taking another bite of his sandwich and drinking pumpkin juice.

“You're hiding something, aren't you?” Naruko said almost mockingly.

“I didn't tell you and Sakamichi about this,” Imaizumi said after a short silence and put the sandwich aside. “I didn't tell anyone, really, because there wasn't much to tell. I don't remember anything.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Naruko frowned, and Imaizumi sighed heavily.

“When I was nine, I was kidnapped.”

“WHAT?” Naruko exclaimed in bewilderment. “Are you kidding me?”

“No,” Imaizumi said dryly, looking at the papers scattered across the table again. “Mom and I were in Diagon Alley. She only turned her back for a minute, I guess. But I really don't remember exactly how it happened. I don't know why. I was old enough, I should have... There are articles in the papers about it, but I didn't learn much from them. The kidnapper was never caught. Aurors never found out who he was.”

“Fucking creepy,” Naruko snorted, leaning back in his chair. “You've had a fun life, I guess.”

“They let me go for nothing,” Imaizumi continued even though he was having a hard time. “After… almost two months. That's what the articles said. But you know what's weird? I don't remember it being that long back then. I thought… it was a couple of days... And I… thought I was kidnapped for ransom, but the perpetrator didn't demand money, you know?”

“What did he demand?” Naruko asked tensely.

“That's the thing, nothing,” Imaizumi shrugged. “It's… very strange.”

“It's not strange — it's fucking weird, Hotshot,” Naruko countered. “Why are you only telling me about this now?”

“Because I haven't thought about it for several years. In my entire time at Hogwarts,” Imaizumi replied. “It was like I didn't want to. Like I was trying to push it out. Maybe… something terrible happened that caused me to have my memories modified for the first time back then? The articles don't mention it.”

“So find out from your parents,” Naruko suggested. “And if you haven't thought about it for so long, what happened now? Why did you come here to dig up the past now?”

“I don't know,” Imaizumi answered honestly. “Something happened. It all started after the holidays, after Manami's stories, our attempts to understand things, and then that creepy guy from the photo. I can't stop thinking that we're in danger.”

“Okay, I get it,” Naruko said, taking a bite of the second sandwich. “You're overthinking it,” he added with a full mouth.

“Really?” Imaizumi grimaced. “I didn't realise.”

“When it's summer — really, talk to your folks about it,” Naruko said. “Or I don't know, you can even call them to visit here now.”

“No, no way,” Imaizumi refused, turning away.

“Then maybe you should tell Sakamichi and Manami about it?”

“Why? They have bigger problems than I do.”

“Bigger?” Naruko grinned mockingly. “I saw them making out in the corridor while you've been withering away. Sometimes I think they're having a good time, no matter how hard it is.”

Imaizumi pressed his lips together, feeling his cheeks flush stupidly and childishly at Naruko's words. Was it really possible to do that?

“You're making life difficult for yourself ahead of time. What are you going to do when the real trouble begins?” Naruko asked, stopping smiling.

“I wish they hadn't begun,” Imaizumi said quietly.

Naruko clucked his tongue, then suddenly took his palm with his own, hot as ever, and intertwined their fingers. Imaizumi couldn't find the strength to look at him, but he squeezed his fingers in return, feeling an almost forgotten but welcome thrill, listening to the words that were so necessary now.

“When they begin, I'll be there to support you.”

Chapter Text

To be honest, Imaizumi didn't want to go and watch the last match of the season at all. He hadn't liked this year's situation back when he first saw the schedule of games in early October, which stated that Slytherin and Ravenclaw would be the last to play each other. But that was the way school Quidditch was. The order of matches was chosen anew every time, randomly or maybe not so randomly, no one knew, but the schedule always went from the Headmaster to the Heads of Houses, and then from the Heads to the team captains. So, in October, Imaizumi had learnt that they were to play Ravenclaw first, opening the season. Then in March against Slytherin. Then in April against Hufflepuff. And all that would be fine, but in previous years Gryffindor, perhaps by sheer will of luck, had managed to be a participant in the very last game, no matter who they fought. Three years in a row, even their last opponent had turned out to be Slytherin, but this time was different.

It came out completely different and at first even caused a slight sense of panic because Imaizumi realised that he wasn't prepared for such a state of affairs at all. And even if school Quidditch meant and was set up in such a way that every team had a chance to win the Cup no matter what order they played in, enough experienced players knew and realised that things were far from that straightforward.

The first inconvenience was that the schedule could not be changed during the season. Exceptions were made rarely and usually only when one of the teams had a valid reason for not participating in a scheduled match. In such a case, a substitution would be made — another team would come out to play instead of that team, and the order would be reconsidered, but it was reckless and almost pointless to count on such a thing because it was really rare.

Another inconvenience was that the points scored for the games played a decisive role, and it was not at all necessary to win all the matches to stay in the race for the final lead. If the Quidditch World Cup were held in this way, there would be many dissatisfied people among the participants and spectators, but fortunately this system only worked in school Quidditch because the number of teams was too limited — it would have been pointless to play elimination because then the season would have been over in three games.

Instead, it was more fairly decided to have six games per school year, so that each team would have a chance to play everyone else.

When the last match was over, the results were summarised. The team with the most points was the winner of the Cup, and that result couldn't always depend on how the last game ended — whether those who got the Cup had won, whether they had participated in that last game at all. School Quidditch was such a thing... a bit confusing, Imaizumi admitted. It was too hard to make predictions, and every time when the final match started, it was impossible to predict how it would end, but some guesses, he thought, could be made, even if there were no clear leaders in points among the teams. It was enough to have information — to know the strengths of the teams, their styles of play, to think what strategy they could use, the weather conditions could not be written off either. And sometimes, after thinking about it, you could come to surprising conclusions.

Even before the first match of the season, Imaizumi had written a letter to Teshima. Of course, he tried to keep his panic at bay, calmly recounting the results of the tryouts and attaching a copy of the schedule to a sheet of paper, but his own phrase — 'We're not playing in the finals' — made him shiver and swallow the lump in his throat. Teshima should have realised at once what was going on. Should've calculated everything, laid out in his head. It was a lame state of affairs because the two smartest Houses would clash in the finals. None of them would rashly rush into battle. Each of them would try to win using brains rather than brute force — Imaizumi didn't even need to see all the members of the two teams to know that. That was the whole problem. How many points would they, the Gryffindors, need to score in their games for them to win the Cup under this unfortunate situation?

Teshima's answer was simple, 'score as many as you can.' The more the better. That was easy for him to say when Imaizumi lost a valuable Seeker with whom he could always count on for an extra 150 points. With Onoda, they might have been able to stall for time by scoring points with the Quaffle, but the one the team had at the most important position right now was only a rookie. Who was apparently terribly unlucky that his first Quidditch season had been so difficult. They were all unlucky, to be honest. Imaizumi hadn't expected to face such difficulties right away during his captaincy either. If he had the opportunity to go back in time, he would never have accepted the position. He would have given it to anyone to avoid the burden of responsibility and worry.

The idea of moving Naruko to the Chaser position had been a success. Thanks to it, their team had had a surprising number of successful attacks in the first match and had outscored their rivals, Ravenclaw, even with their Seeker catching the Snitch. It was a surprise to Imaizumi to see Miyahara among her House's Quidditch team, but for their own new Seeker, Miki, this was the best option. A girl and also a newbie. Their battle ended in Miyahara's favour, which Imaizumi tried not to take as a disappointment, because he hadn't expected Miki to play the most brilliantly in her first match and their team won 240-200 without a Snitch.

From that outcome, he began to think of the next plan — and he needed the best plan to win the Quidditch Cup. The first item was observation and data collection. He attended the next two matches to learn about his opponents through their play — what the Hufflepuff team was capable of, how the ambitious Slytherins had improved, and what the clever Ravenclaws were going to do next.

In their game, Slytherin defeated Hufflepuff with a score of 290-50. The game was fast for such a score due to the excellent work of the Slytherin Chasers and the Beater Yuuto. Yuuto had been bloody dangerous last year as well, but now he was even better and was probably the biggest problem for any opposing team. Some sort of tactic was needed against him, and Imaizumi had yet to figure out how to deal with this Quidditch monster.

It got worse when the match between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff took place next. It ended with the Ravenclaw team losing 470-450, but Miyahara did it again — she caught the Snitch at the very end, but unlike the first time, she knew she was going to make her team admit defeat. And such a move was... done on purpose. It didn't take Imaizumi long to realise it, but after this game, the Ravenclaw team's strategy was clear as day — they had lost two matches, but they were still going to fight for the Cup with the points they had managed to gain, and they had gained a lot. Imaizumi would never have chosen this path — to accept defeat every time, but the Ravenclaws apparently swallowed their pride, or maybe they didn't have it to begin with. They were built differently anyway, and Imaizumi, even trying to understand their morality, seemed to be left with nothing, and this could not, of course, be encouraging.

During the winter, training stopped and it was possible to forget about Quidditch for a while, but the captains hardly had that luxury. Imaizumi couldn't know about the others, of course, but he himself often returned to Quidditch in his thoughts, trying to surmise how the three remaining games would go and how his team would need to proceed in order to make their way to the Cup.

The game against Slytherin coming up in March was the most stressful of all. Imaizumi had told Miki back in the autumn to keep an eye on the Seekers, and especially the Slytherin Seeker, during the Slytherin vs. Hufflepuff match. She needed to memorise their game, to assess their strengths so that she could fight them for victory in the future, and Miki had convinced him that she didn't need any help with that and that she could handle her task on her own. Imaizumi trusted her, recognising that they desperately needed the Snitch as well in the battle against Slytherin because Yuuto wouldn't let them score the Quaffle in the hoops all the time.

Due to the difficult situation, Imaizumi made training more difficult when he resumed it in late February, and the first few times Naruko was regularly sent to the infirmary because he was used to deflecting Bludgers rather than dodging them, but Imaizumi understood he must grant no one any slack, because Yuuto wouldn't spare either of them when they were in the midst of battle.

And just when the situation seemed to have gained some much needed hope now, the unpredictable happened.

Unpredictable because Manami took the field with the Slytherin team. Manami at the Seeker position. To say that Imaizumi was surprised was to say nothing. He was in complete shock even if he tried to hide all emotions behind a mask. The thing that had happened... it was confusing all the cards.

No, replacements during the season were not forbidden. It happened — one of the team members could get sick or injured. He was replaced if there was a substitution and the players went out to play with a changed lineup, but Imaizumi really couldn't predict that. No one could.

Nevertheless, he tried to pull himself together. He couldn't afford to lose a match just because of one substitution on the opponent's side, and hoped Miki would think of something, though could she? Manami was too difficult an opponent — he'd never lost to anyone but Onoda, and did anyone else even have a chance of winning a bout with him?

Trying not to think about it too much, Imaizumi devoted all his attention to his case, but the game ended... just horribly. They lost to Slytherin with a score of 310-280 and two injuries. Miki didn't catch the Snitch — she was hit by a Bludger at Yuuto's mercy. Naruko had a broken arm — also at Yuuto's mercy, and Imaizumi already felt at that moment — felt for the first time — that they might actually fail this year. It was their first match loss in a long time, and it was too painful a blow.

Imaizumi no longer knew if winning the last game could help them. He stopped writing to Teshima even though he'd reported all the results to him before — he simply couldn't tell him that the team had lost. His own cowardice made his mood sink even lower, and the recurring nightmares were only contributing to it. Imaizumi really didn't have the time for it right now. He needed a good night's sleep to study and continue training, but now he was only tired more often and made more mistakes.

He began to partially remember his nightmares in early April. For some reason, he kept dreaming about an incident that had happened in his house last year. The way he had argued with his mother after creating the magical artefact, how he had snapped and accidentally unleashed magic. Sometimes in these dreams his mother screamed and sometimes she called him a monster. But what was even stranger and more frightening than that, Imaizumi began to hear another voice as well. Alien but as if familiar. Someone's voice from the distant past. A voice that suggested danger. It was saying, 'You're not trying hard enough, Shunsuke.' 'Don't disappoint me, I want to see more.'

Imaizumi had no idea what any of this meant. He didn't want to figure it out, or dig through his damaged memories. Not now, but the nightmares wouldn't leave him alone. It seemed like a miracle that he was able to get on the pitch against Hufflepuff and play his role properly. They even won (even, God) with a score of 400-350, and Imaizumi probably played so mechanically for the first time. It was as if it was mindless at all. His team had scored 920 points in all the games, and many of the participants felt hopeful that they would be able to take the Cup in such a scenario, but Imaizumi had already stopped counting on it. He believed in something else entirely — that the Slytherins would do everything they could to overtake them and the Ravenclaw team. They really could with their powers. Even without Manami, though the latter was going to play next year. Imaizumi had learnt that from Naruko, and Naruko in turn had learnt that from Onoda. Next year was the last year for the four of them, and Imaizumi was ready to start thinking that he'd lose on his second chance too because they couldn't win against Manami, but Onoda said he'd play too. He really made the decision to play, and from it all Imaizumi for a moment but gained a lost confidence that everything would work out. Even if not this year, but in the seventh and final year for sure. Because with Onoda, it couldn't be otherwise. Onoda was the light that would save everyone. And their team too.

But right now, the results of the current season were still to be learnt. That's why Imaizumi was sitting in a noisy stand, among others just as noisy. Some were cheering for Ravenclaw. Someone was cheering for Slytherin. Everyone was in a great gambling mood, and only Imaizumi was mentally preparing himself for an outcome that would sideline his team. And was there any point in making excuses?

Were they just unlucky that they had already played all their matches? Were they unlucky because the Slytherin team decided to put Manami on the field in March? Could they really have won the Cup without Onoda?

Thinking about all of this was getting tiresome. Imaizumi just wanted to accept his loss, and that was made much easier when he realised that both Seekers were biding their time. Of course, they wanted to let their Chasers earn as many points as possible, and after that would the Seekers rush in pursuit of the Snitch, and only a fool wouldn't realise that the Cup would go to one of the teams that was currently on the field. How did Naruko... even have the strength to believe that they still had any chance? It would be a miracle if one of the Seekers made a mistake and caught the Snitch before both teams overtook them, the Gryffindors, in points. No, that definitely wouldn't happen. Not when the Quidditch Cup was on the line.

Because of this, the game promised to be a long one, and soon the sky darkened. A thundercloud had been brought in from somewhere, and it was apparently not long before it was going to rain. Imaizumi wasn't particularly worried about it — he didn't think the weather would hinder the teams that were training to win. But because of the downpour, the captains took a time-out, and time dragged on again, even though he wanted it to be over. You can't make up for the lost time, can you? So why wait?

Naruko was beginning to realise it too. Slowly but surely, and Imaizumi felt strangely relieved for some reason. Maybe he wouldn't be such a terrible captain if everyone realised on their own that they weren't going to get the Cup this year. God, what a pathetic way to console himself.

By the time the Seekers began their serious battle for the Snitch in an effort to catch it, the thunderstorm had intensified. Imaizumi even had the horrible thought of the game being interrupted or postponed, and he was so not willing to wait any longer.

But it didn't need to be. Because the game finally ended with a result that dumbfounded everyone. Even Imaizumi, probably, because it wasn't the outcome he was expecting. He was expecting a Slytherin victory. And the Slytherin team did win the match with a score of 400-370, but lost the battle for the Cup because Ravenclaw still outclassed them in total points. Slytherin was only twenty points short... Oh shit.

The announcer, amazed as much as everyone else, was loudly commenting on the results, and Imaizumi could feel himself starting to go deaf. All the voices were merging together, falling silent, and being replaced by a nasty unnatural ringing. That was it. It was definitely over now. Ravenclaw had first place, Slytherin — second, and they—

As the Cup award ceremony began, Manami jumped out of his seat and ran off. He had been sitting in the back with Onoda the entire game, and now he quickly left the stands, and Imaizumi felt the exact same urge. He wanted to run. Far away and without looking back. To never again perceive everything that had happened. To never hear anything about Quidditch ever again.

Without even looking in the direction of Naruko, or Onoda, or anyone else, he got up from the bench and actually followed Manami. While everyone watched the ceremony, Imaizumi made his way to the stairs and then hurried down, even though his legs were terribly weak and almost refused to move. He hurried without knowing why, feeling like a coward again. He only managed to slow down and stop after the very last staircase, near the entrance. Imaizumi pressed his bent hand against the wooden beam and pressed his forehead against it, breathing heavily. A tear rolled down his cheek, then another. He bit his lip painfully, trying to hold back, but the urge to wail hadn't been this strong in a long time.

And hell, he'd known it was going to be like this. Knew it, probably from the beginning. Then why did it feel so lousy now?

He still couldn't come to his senses. Even when someone's palm rested on his shoulder, Imaizumi still shuddered, swallowing back tears.

“Stop it,” Naruko's voice came from behind him. “I'm serious. I know what you're doing, but there's no need to blame yourself for all the trouble. There was nothing you could've done.”

Sobbing, Imaizumi tried to wipe the tears from his face with his sleeve, then lowered his head low.

“I had to,” he said with difficulty. “Teshima trusted me, and I didn't fulfil his expectations. Everything was against me. From the beginning. He should never have given this position to me in the first place.”

“What are you talking about?” Naruko was outraged. “You were a great captain. Without your ideas, we wouldn't have won a single game this season!”

“But I couldn't think of anything when the Slytherins released Manami. Or with that fucking schedule,” Imaizumi reminded him and clenched his fists with force. “It's all so— so stupid, God. Do we have to play under this stupid system?”

“We don't have a choice?” Naruko asked carefully and quietly.

Grinning bitterly, Imaizumi turned to him nonetheless.

“Except the choice to send everything to hell.”

“You don't really mean that, do you?” Naruko replied with a slight smirk, although it was completely drenched in pain.

“Maybe I do?” Imaizumi asked. “I have one last year left. What can I fix?”

“Everything,” Naruko shrugged. “Or nothing. It depends on you. Sakamichi and I will be with you, in case you remembered. But without your passes, I can't pull it off. I'm still a lousy Chaser, you know that.”

“Without me, you definitely are,” Imaizumi agreed involuntarily.

“Yeah. Quidditch can be a weird thing, but we've been through it before. We'll get through this, no question about it. I'm going to win next year, what about you?” Naruko asked, smiling warmly.

Imaizumi lowered his gaze, feeling like smiling back.

I wish I had your strength, Naruko, he almost said, but he could already hear voices approaching on the stairs above. It was the boys who were getting ready to head back to school. And they should have done the same.

“Will you do one last assignment for me for this year?” Imaizumi asked, and Naruko nodded in response. “Tell everyone in the core team that I want to talk to them. In the common room—” he paused and pulled out his watch to check the time. “Seven o'clock.”

“Got it!” Naruko smiled wryly, threw the hood of his robe over his head and walked towards the exit to the street, pulling Imaizumi by the elbow. “For now, we'll have to hurry up so we don't spend too much time drying off when we get to the castle.”

Imaizumi wanted to reply that it was useless and they would get wet anyway, but didn't say anything, just keeping up with Naruko's hurried stride. It wasn't long before Onoda caught up with them as well. Though he too was silent with his head down, trying to keep up, even so it was easier with him around. Imaizumi felt whole again rather than broken into pieces, and grinned to himself, admitting that without Onoda they were almost nothing. Certainly not a team willing to challenge anyone for the Cup. It was a bit of a shame, but... one had to be able to face the truth even if it wasn't the most pleasant?

Either way, there was something good about the situation. About all of it. If Manami hadn't come out to play in March, he might not have decided to come back permanently. If he hadn't made up his mind, Onoda wouldn't have come back, and now they had a chance to at least play with their best lineup next year.

Besides, it was over now. They could breathe and forget about Quidditch again for a few months, and with Onoda, no need to come up with elaborate strategies, because he didn't just have a talent for the game — he had a talent for leading his team to victory.

Imaizumi realised that this was the realisation he had been missing, but now he could promise himself and others that he would fight again. That he would try to be a proper captain. The kind of captain Gryffindor needed.

Of course, by the time they got to the castle, they were soaking wet. Some of the guys behind them had umbrellas with them, and Imaizumi didn't even bother to get his wand out and put the Impervius Charm on his clothes. It was like... didn't care, was it?

It wasn't until he was in Gryffindor Tower that he took care of his appearance. He hung his robe on the headboard, showered, changed, and began drying his hair with a spell, occasionally glancing at his watch. There was no one in the sixth year's dormitory except Onoda, who, having also changed, was silently feeding Sleepy. Naruko had left almost immediately after arriving, and now was probably the perfect time to speak up.

“I'm having a meeting for the team. In the common room at seven. You can come too if you want.”

Onoda turned around in surprise and blinked.

“And you… aren't offended?”

“What,” Imaizumi looked up. “What do you mean? Offended by you?”

“Well...” Onoda was confused, “I refused to play this year. I didn't do anything to help. I abandoned you, and the team lost in the end...”

“No,” Imaizumi objected sharply. “No. What are you talking about? It's fine, you did the right thing... if that's what you needed to do. You shouldn't always have to take the fall for the Quidditch team.”

But Onoda pressed his lips together dismally and crumpled the fabric of the blanket near his hip in his fist.

“I'm sorry, Shunsuke,” he said. “And thanks for the invitation, but I guess I don't want to come.”

“I understand,” Imaizumi smiled weakly. “You're right — you don't have to worry about that.”

“I'm really sorry,” Onoda said louder, getting up from his seat.

Imaizumi almost had time to answer him, but the door opened, letting Sugimoto and his friend inside. They talked, Sugimoto talking emotionally about something, returning completely dry but with an umbrella in his hand, which was apparently enchanted and therefore already dry as well. Imaizumi didn't bother to listen to what he was saying and just turned away, looking at his watch again. There were still twenty minutes left before his appointed time, and he still wasn't sure he knew what to say to his team. But he felt he had to do it. To try.

Naruko never came back, though Imaizumi had expected to go down to the common room with him (it would have been easier that way), but he would have to go alone. Sugimoto left the room without telling him, too early, and Imaizumi waited until seven o'clock, listening to the quiet rustling of the parchments Onoda was poring over on the table.

“I'll go to dinner,” the latter announced with a stilted smile, finding his notebook and slipping it into the pocket of his fresh robe. “Um— good luck, Shunsuke.”

Imaizumi only nodded in response, giving Onoda a look and thinking it was time for him to go as well. To say a few words to the team and let everyone go to dinner — it had been a long game after all, and the guys must be starving.

Imaizumi didn't feel hungry himself — the nerves must have taken away his appetite, but he hoped it hadn't spread to the others as much. He'd be confused if he saw only droopy, disappointed faces in front of him.

Fortunately (if it was appropriate to put it that way, of course), most of the guys looked more or less fine when he approached them. They had gathered in a small group of six near the fireplace and were waiting for him while the rest of the Gryffindor students walked past, heading off to dinner. Yeah, they wouldn't be having a party in the common room tonight.

Miki smiled approvingly when Imaizumi caught her eye for a second. Naruko was also trying to look cheerful, though his brother, Shingo, stood with his head down beside him, probably struggling to hold back tears. It was understandable — he was a newbie and a kid who had been disappointed in his first Quidditch season. Imaizumi probably felt the most guilty towards him, and he was glad that the other guys kept their cool. Kaburagi wasn't smiling, of course, and stood with a focused face, but it was for the best that at least he wasn't yelling or outraged. Danchiku was calm but didn't look up either; and only Sugimoto seemed as if their Quidditch defeat had bypassed him altogether, but of course that was only a mask hiding, in fact, the same disappointment as everyone else.

“Thank you for coming,” Imaizumi began (forced himself to begin), deciding that there was no point in wasting time. “It was my last request as captain this year. Quidditch season is officially over, and there will naturally be no more practice until September. Devote your free time to studying, preparing for your exams, and then go on your summer holidays with a clear conscience. Each of you deserves a good holiday.”

“Hey, captain,” Naruko raised his right hand in the air, “isn't a clear conscience a bit of a serious edict? What if I'm not sure I have the strength to study diligently? Kabu — I guess not, either.”

“Hey, I'm fine!” the offended Kaburagi replied sharply, to which Miki, Danchiku and Sugimoto laughed restrainedly.

“I believe you'll do your best,” Imaizumi smiled weakly, looking at Naruko. “Both of you do. Besides, I'm always available to answer questions about studying, as you know. Any of you can contact me.”

“Thank you,” Miki responded with a smile.

“Thank you, Shunsuke,” Sugimoto seconded.

The phrase of thanks was repeated by everyone, and Imaizumi felt strange and awkward. They didn't have to thank him. Not in this situation. Not when he had failed to do his job.

“And about the results,” he said, still lowering his head. “This season has been a difficult one for us, but of course you know that yourself, too... And you… fought beautifully. You're a great team, maybe even deserving of a better captain than me. But I am happy that you have travelled this path with me, and so... it's me who must thank you all. Thank you for this year,” he said, lowering his head even more. “And I'm sorry.”

He fell silent, waiting for some sort of reaction and not knowing if he should say anything else. He probably should have asked them to fight with him next year as well, but it was so overwhelmingly difficult to speak again...

“It's fine,” Miki's voice suddenly said from very close by, and her small palm squeezed Imaizumi's shoulder. “You did a great job. And I'm glad I got to play with you, too. I think everyone's glad. Right, guys?”

She turned to the others, and everyone nodded almost simultaneously.

“Thank you,” they began to say again. Naruko still held the sleeve of his robe up to his eyes for a couple of seconds, and then showed a thumbs-up.

“We promise not to fail next year!”

He followed Miki, stepped towards Imaizumi and hugged him, and in the next moment the other guys did the same. It caused even more awkwardness, but with that Imaizumi felt really happy. Finally calmed down.

“Is everything alright?” he asked Miki when his mates finally let him go and he allowed everyone to go to dinner.

Miki stopped after taking a couple of steps towards the exit of the common room and turned to him with a new smile.

“If you mean next year, sure,” she nodded vigorously. “Sakamichi is a much better player at the Seeker position than I am, and I think it's a very good thing — that he's going to be back. It seems... so right, doesn't it?”

Imaizumi lowered his gaze again, trying not to agree with her words so obviously as to not be too rude. Miki was playing great for her first year, and she would definitely have the opportunity to grow as a Seeker if she stayed a member of the core team and took the field during official games, but... Onoda could certainly take the position back the next year because he was the best Seeker in the school, and Imaizumi admitted that he wouldn't stand in the way of that, because... yeah, he still wanted to win the damn Cup. And there was only one year left to do it.

Despite the result, the Gryffindor table was quite lively when Imaizumi was one of the last to arrive in the Great Hall. The guys were chatting with each other, albeit not as noisy as usual, but it was still better than the mood of Slytherin. They were all quiet as mice there, and Imaizumi could only guess how they felt — they were only twenty points short of catching up with Ravenclaw. Not by much at all. And yet their team had won every game this year, which was commendable, but apparently not enough not to feel such disappointment.

Thinking about Quidditch could be endless, of course, but Imaizumi forced himself to get busy eating, and the feast even gave him a bit of an appetite. He really wanted to switch to something else for a while at least, to try and make sense of his dreams or his past, but he definitely shouldn’t forget about the existence of the real world in the present time.

He might have been able to do something about it when he noticed a huge cloud of chocolate pudding growing over the Slytherin table, but of course he was too late, just confused because Manami suddenly rose from his seat and with his wand dramatically sent the whole chocolate mass straight into the unsuspecting Gryffindors with a very courteous warning—

“Look out!”

The only thing Imaizumi had time to do was stick his hand in his robe pocket and try to grab the hilt of his wand. The pudding, apparently enlarged by the spell, collapsed right onto the Gryffindor table, hitting the students, knocking over dishes and other food with a clatter. Imaizumi unconsciously squeezed his eyes shut, feeling drops of something hit his face, the plate slide across the countertop and fall onto his lap.

Naruko was the first to come to his senses after what had happened and did the equally absurd and stupid thing — he grabbed the buns and jumped onto the bench to counter attack. This was where it all started.

The Gryffindors went completely nuts. Almost everyone rushed to take part in the food fight, but Imaizumi wanted only one thing — to put up an invisible shield, hide under it, or run away at once.

Squinting again, he still tried to pull out his wand and cast a spell, but a greasy chicken leg flew into his hand as if on purpose, knocking the wand out of his fingers. The wand flew to the floor somewhere; Imaizumi bent down trying to find it, but it had rolled under the table for some reason. He had to climb under the table to get it, and there was Onoda, who was hiding, sitting with his knees drawn up and his pudding-stained hood pulled over his head.

Reaching for his wand, Imaizumi gripped the hilt tightly, trying to figure out what he should do next, but somehow the most obvious and also equally stupid thought that came into his head was to sit here and keep his head down until one of the Professors stopped this chaos. What the hell were they even doing in there?

The table suddenly shook — it was something heavy that had fallen on it, but Imaizumi didn't really want to know what it was. The students was yelling, their voices merging into one unintelligible rumble, and Imaizumi slowly began to get angry. No, what the fuck, really? How was it even possible to turn the feast into this?

Pissed off completely, he still crawled out from under the table with his wand at the ready and, before their Head burst into the hall and used the Freezing Spell on the students, even managed to lift all the remaining snacks from the table into the air and send them towards the Slytherin table.

After that, a very harsh reprimand awaited everyone, not surprisingly at all. Professor had probably never been so angry before, and the guys realised pretty quickly that they should all go to their common rooms and get the hell out of here.

Imaizumi felt absolutely terrible as he climbed the stairs, continuously casting one cleansing spell after another on himself. Of his other comrades, not all of them succeeded in this, and many didn't seem to care at all because they were laughing, loudly discussing what had happened, and Naruko was certainly having fun too. He was walking somewhere ahead of him, telling Kabu and Danchiku about how he had managed to hit the captain of the Slytherin team in the face with an apple pie.

“It wasn't for nothing that I spent a whole year learning to play the Chaser position!” he said and laughed harder than before.

Imaizumi couldn't help the faint smile that came out of it and decided that he was probably ready to turn a blind eye to the commotion that had ruined his dinner and rest.

He was already thinking that nothing more unplanned would happen today, and after a shower he settled down on his bed, going to read something easy, but Naruko, with a towel over his wet head, suddenly jumped up on his bed and shouted to Onoda, “Listen! I mean no! Wait!” he corrected himself at once and stared at the floor with a frown that made Imaizumi instantly realise what it meant.

It was simple — Naruko was going through Manami's head again, listening to his thoughts or something.

“Oh,” he exhaled almost anxiously after a few seconds, and Onoda was worried.

“What? Is something wrong?”

“Well— how can I tell you—” Naruko hesitated, then grinned wryly, and, taking advantage of the fact that there was no one else in the dorm except the three of them, said, “They made him go clean up the Great Hall. They took his wand, too.”

“But it's a nightmare in there!” Onoda groaned. “He won't be able to cope there even by morning without magic!”

“Who said he had to be alone?” Naruko laughed and got out of bed, throwing the towel off his head. “Let's go to the Head and volunteer to help too!”

“Are you serious?” Imaizumi wrinkled his nose, not believing his ears.

“Of course!” Naruko nodded. “He did it for those who were upset about the Quidditch results. My personal mood went through the roof! We just have to help him out after this!”

“Yeah, I'll go too!” Onoda agreed readily.

“Oh dear,” Imaizumi exhaled doomedly, putting the book aside. He was tired and wanted to just rest for the rest of the evening, but apparently it wasn't meant to be. “I'm in.”

Onoda and Naruko smiled in sync at his words, and Imaizumi felt as if he had signed his own sentence. Although that was true, if we consider that the punishment he did not deserve was a sentence.

But it was too late and foolish to retreat. He had to go with his friends to the Head's office and tell her of his proposal. She was surprised, not understanding how they knew about it, but she supported their eagerness to help the delinquent student and allowed them to go back down to the Great Hall.

In addition to Manami, Yuuto was also there (apparently an assistant), and Imaizumi was nervous at first that this would end up being a bad thing, but they worked well together, oddly enough, even though they still spent a lot of time cleaning up.

By the time they were done, it was late at night, judging by the ceiling of the Great Hall — Imaizumi was in pain all over and he wanted to sleep badly. The climb up to Gryffindor Tower after that turned out to be a terrible ordeal, and, finding himself back in the dormitory where their neighbours had long since been asleep behind the lowered curtains, Imaizumi finally went to brush his teeth so that he could then immediately collapse into bed, preferably before lunch.

When he returned to the dormitory after his bath fully ready for bed, he saw that Onoda had already passed out on his bed without even undressing, and Naruko might well have done the same, but he was sitting up for some reason looking out the ajar window. There was an owl by the window, and Imaizumi was about to ask whom the message was to, but he recognised from the plumage that the bird belonged to Teshima. Oh, shit.

He had to walk over and untie the envelope from its paw.

“And he... can we say, just in time like never before?” Imaizumi muttered quietly to himself, and Naruko wondered,

“Who's the letter from?”

“From Teshima,” Imaizumi replied dryly, walking over to the desk.

He wanted to put off reading it until tomorrow because it was too late now, but something made him open the envelope and see that the long sheet was more scribbled than usual. That alerted him.

Pulling back a chair to sit at the desk, Imaizumi lit the lamp and, ignoring his fatigue, began to read.

Hello again, it seems that corresponding with me has bored you, but I thought I'd write anyway since the year is coming to a close, well... you know yourself.

How did the Quidditch season end? Tell me all about it, if you don't mind. If... you'd even want to write to me again after what you've read now, of course.

I didn't want to tell you anything, to be honest. I'd dragged it out for too long and I'd hoped I'd be able to forget, but I couldn't. My conscience is nagging at me because of what I did, more specifically because I didn't tell you anything, I didn't trust you back like you did.

I know, I know, about everything in order because you are probably just confused now, but I guess I don't have the guts to confess without unnecessary digressions.

I want to talk about an incident that happened a year ago. I think you remember very well how you came to me with a request that made my hair stand on end. You asked me to help reschedule the Quidditch finals and told me that you were going to run away from school to Sangaku Manami to make a magical artefact with him, ugh... I still shudder to think of it. I couldn't refuse you though I should have done so on all reasonable grounds.

I was... perhaps too enchanted by your openness, and I agreed. I honoured your request and thought it would be all right. I trusted you, believing you wouldn't let things get too bad, but the closer the day of your mission got, the less confidence I had in you. I knew this guy's power was immense and terribly dangerous, and I ended up just being gripped by fear. Fear for you. For you and Onoda and Naruko. I couldn't stop thinking: What if I got any of you hurt? Because I knew and let you take that desperate risk.

I was really confused at the time. I didn't know what to do or how to act. I knew I shouldn't betray you, but on the other hand, I felt I couldn't turn a blind eye to the fact that something might happen to you.

I don't know if you'll forgive me for this, but I guess I made a mistake. I gave in to my weakness. I didn't sleep that night. I just couldn't sleep, and when I checked your dorm and made sure you were gone, I talked myself out of it for a long time, but in the end I gave in. I went to the Head and told her everything. Told her where you'd gone.

That's why you were found so quickly. Because of me. And I'm sorry I couldn't help myself.

Forgive me for that if you can.

Junta Teshima

With a wince, Imaizumi broke his gaze from the letter and met the surprised gaze of Naruko, who had been standing nearby, leaning on the tabletop.

“Why do you look like you've eaten a toad?” Naruko asked. “What is it?”

“Just read it,” Imaizumi replied, handing over the letter, and Naruko, giving him another strange look, took the parchment in his fingers.

At first he skimmed the lines too hastily, but then he widened his eyes and re-read it more carefully, then opened his mouth to wail indignantly, but Imaizumi covered it with his palm.

“Everyone's asleep, you idiot.”

Grudgingly, Naruko pushed Imaizumi's hand away from his face and whispered loudly,

“And we thought we'd been ratted out by the little Shinkai!”

“Yep. We thought so,” Imaizumi agreed boredly, reluctantly thinking back to last year. He now knew another detail of that ill-fated night they had flown to create the artefact, but he didn't care so much now. Teshima was right, for that matter. If he hadn't informed the adults and they hadn't found them in time to provide help, who knows, maybe things would have ended much worse... Either way the plan and idea had been reckless, and they'd all paid for it.

“That's news to me,” Naruko sighed, seeming to calm down a little. “He really was in no hurry to tell us. So? Are you angry?”

“No,” Imaizumi answered. “And that was a year ago. What difference does it make now who's at fault? We're all to blame, if you think about it.”

“But we—” Naruko objected and then stopped talking. He bit his lip, as if it hurt him to think about what he was thinking there, and Imaizumi could guess his thoughts.

Naruko thought that maybe things would have worked out better if the adults hadn't come too quickly then. But that didn't make sense. Neither he, nor Imaizumi, nor Onoda could simply physically climb onto brooms and fly back to Hogwarts.

So why even consider what would have happened if Teshima hadn't said anything to anyone?

Apparently Naruko eventually did mentally agree with that though because he didn't bring it up again and asked another thing, “What would you say to him?”

Imaizumi would have said he didn't want to answer at all, because it was embarrassing and hurtful, but apparently there was no choice. He could perhaps find the strength for some sort of answer.

So, taking a blank parchment from the drawer, he dipped his quill into the inkwell and brought it up to the sheet to write…

Third place.

We lost.

Chapter Text

It was the sixth summer holidays. The last summer holidays that were a break from studying at Hogwarts. There would be no more of those, just as there would be no more of the lingering anticipation of returning...

Imaizumi hadn't thought about it in early July. Hadn't thought about it at the end of the month, but the moment he and Naruko and Onoda had planned a shopping trip to Diagon Alley, the realisation had come in a sudden and heavy wave.

This was it, yes. The really real last summer holidays, after which time would inexorably and indifferently begin to approach the very stage of adulthood that Imaizumi couldn't imagine without a shudder. He would have to do what he had been prepared for all these years. He would have to fulfil his duty, which was hardly called a duty, to his parents.

He didn't feel he had a duty, to be honest. And yet, at the end of the day, there was a job waiting for him at the Ministry of Magic. And then there was marriage. Oh, right, of course, how could he forget about that? Was it even possible to forget about that?

And all just so he could be left alone, allowed to live a peaceful and trouble-free life. Imaizumi was already doubting that too, in fact. How could one be sure of a peaceful future when they knew of the existence of someone who intended to? gain the most terrifying power in this world?

Things got even more complicated when Onoda said he'd learned from his father that Midousuji had disappeared, and after that, Ishigaki had resigned from his position as well. And to make sure that the worst expectations were fulfilled, now all it took was... one confirmation of some sort? Anything. One would indeed be enough. And Imaizumi was waiting for it. Waited almost impatiently because as silly as it sounded, he wanted the trouble to happen sooner if it was bound to happen. Even if he dreaded the thought of what would happen next. He allowed for the thought of Midousuji coming for the Obscurus. He accepted the idea that he might get what he wanted. And then what? Would the wizarding world be mired in another war?

That seemed the most obvious option, and now Imaizumi was only curbing himself because Onoda's father knew everything... but was in no hurry to involve other people in the matter. Why, because he was sure he had the situation under control? Or was there some other reason? When Imaizumi tried to think and figure things out alone, it didn't lead to any definite conclusions due to the lack of information. He realised that there was a lot he just didn't know, just as apparently neither did Onoda or Manami, but since they were in the middle of all this shit, didn't they deserve a proper explanation that would let them see the whole picture?

On the other hand, Onoda's father couldn't be said to be inactive. He had been monitoring the situation for months, and then he had created a hideout for Manami, protected by Fidelius Charm to keep him hidden. Imaizumi and Naruko had no idea where exactly this place was, which only made things more tense.

Hiding seemed like a prudent decision, but here all three of them knew full well that Manami wouldn't hide forever. Primarily because of Quidditch. To play on his school team, it looked like he might even go crazy, but in the opposite case — if he didn't return to school in September — something even worse than one person's desire to play Quidditch at the cost of everything could happen. Imaizumi had surmised that too, in fact. The villains were unlikely to prefer playing fair — they could most likely easily resort to blackmail, for example, by seizing someone close to their target in order to lure them out... Anything could be thought of when you wanted to achieve something and didn't care about morality or humanity. And their threat lacked morals for sure if he was really going to take someone else's Obscurus, while realising that he would inevitably kill the host that way.

But thinking about Midousuji, his possible actions in the future, and comparing it all to his appearance, which he had managed to memorise from the photo in the winter, Imaizumi felt uneasy and anxiously again and again. It was as if there was something he had actually missed, even though he thought he had left that feeling behind.

His relationship with his parents was becoming like it had been before, although it was also clear that it would never be exactly like it had been in the past. At their rare dinners together, Imaizumi said almost nothing when his father and mother began their usual conversations, which were most often about politics, world news, work, or other influential families. They thoughtfully didn't remind him of the future, didn't press him, and the smiles his mother gave him in just a month and a half were twice as many as in the several holidays that had passed before.

On one hand that was encouraging, but on the other, Imaizumi was increasingly beginning to think that they were simply giving him a breath of fresh air, intending to then take away his ability to breathe altogether. It was quite possible that it was such a ploy — a bit cruel, selfish. His parents were the kind of people who were used to getting their way. It would be strange to be surprised that they were even willing to put on masks or sacrifice small things for a larger goal. And they seemed to be just about to do everything, to use any manipulation to make their son a worthy representative of their family.

Do they have a backup plan in case of an emergency? Imaizumi mentally wondered during another such dinner.

Do they have a plan in case... if a wizarding war breaks out?

It was even funny that he was thinking about it again. He had become so attached to the thought that he could not calm down, and yes, he knew full well that wars didn't start out of the blue. Even if a war did start, it might be a few more years before it happened. Maybe he'd have time to get married before then. And maybe not just that.

His parents, if a threat loomed, would certainly not abandon the Ministry — not even cowardice would allow them to denigrate their pride — and Imaizumi, thinking about it, once again imagined what would happen as if it were some sort of entertaining game. Except that this game made him shiver, which he didn't notice until someone spoke up.

“Something wrong, Shunsuke? You don't look well,” came his mother's concerned voice, and it was only then that Imaizumi realised that he had been sitting motionless over his nearly untouched dinner for several minutes.

“Oh, I—” he snapped out of his trance and saw the slight confusion on his parents' faces. “It's okay. Just thinking.”

“If there's a problem—” his father began quietly.

Hell yeah, a bunch of problems, a big fucking bunch, Imaizumi thought to himself, clenching his teeth tightly.

“It's not worth your attention. I'm just thinking about Quidditch,” he lied quickly, just to get them to leave him alone. “I need a good strategy for next year — I'm considering different options for the scheduling situation and players—”

“Being team captain is no trifling matter,” his father said, grinning weakly. “But it would be surprising if you didn't take the position — after all, you're our son.”

“That's good, but you shouldn't spend more time on this than on your studies, Shunsuke,” Mom intervened, and there was excitement in her voice again. “You're in your final year, and at the end of it you'll have serious exams that will determine your future career. Our family is wealthy, but you should not forget to maintain your status in wizarding society—”

She stopped abruptly, as if she had said too much, and nervously pressed a napkin to her lips.

She's been holding back a long time, Imaizumi thought but didn't say anything out loud.

“Maybe watching the Championship Final will give you some clues,” Mom continued more calmly and picked up the fork she'd set aside earlier. “I don't know much about wizarding sports, you know.”

“I'm grateful for the opportunity,” Imaizumi nodded idly.

He was really glad that he would be able to see the final with his own eyes because he had never seen world-class Quidditch before — only British teams playing. It would be very different at the Championships, of course. This was also clear from the emotional letter from Onoda, who had been given a ticket to one of the matches by Makishima. At the very end of August he, Imaizumi, would now be able to attend such a momentous event.

If only he could do it with Naruko. Even if he resented the English team's failure to qualify for the semi-finals, he wouldn't mind seeing how it ended, but his parents would never agree to spend money on a ticket for someone like a commoner, and they certainly wouldn't agree to accompany him with their son.

“...And if you're worried about anything, you can always tell us — we'll do our best to help,” Mom said after a short silence. “Your behaviour over the last few months—” she added but stopped again. “Well... okay. Finish your dinner or you won't have the energy for Quidditch, right?”

Imaizumi lowered his head and resumed picking at his plate while a couple of house-elves arranged the dessert on the long table. He remembered that he hadn't talked to his parents about the past, about what had happened to him in the past, though time was running out, and if he didn't do something about it, he'd just leave for school before he could find out anything. And it was worth finding out, since it had poisoned his life to some degree. He had to figure it all out, or at least try to, so he wouldn't have to worry about too much in the new school year.

Would they even be allowed to finish school in peace?

Imaizumi didn't want to start thinking about it too obviously again, but the paranoid inside him seemed to be waking up again, and this time reason suggested that the feelings might very well be right. Would Midousuji wait another full year to make his move? Would they be ready for it?

One thing that was cheering amidst this incomprehensible situation was that there would be a scheduled meeting in Diagon Alley as early as tomorrow. Imaizumi would be able to see Naruko and Onoda, and maybe then it would work out to feel better? It would definitely have to happen — those two were becoming just the living embodiment of strength, Imaizumi himself becoming stronger and more confident around them. Naruko was bound to cheer him up even if they did find a new reason to fight. Onoda would probably share some encouraging or not so encouraging news. Imaizumi was willing to accept anything from them, really, even if his relationship with both of them was only getting more complicated as time went on. And Naruko was the hardest to deal with.

If he think about everything he had done and continued to do, Imaizumi was somewhat of a traitor.

He was betraying Naruko. He was betraying his feelings for Naruko by denying them, by finding a reason to deny them. Will this truth ever come out? And did Imaizumi have the right to remain close to Naruko?

And even though the answer to the last question seemed obvious, Imaizumi was still doing his best to ignore it. He was willing to cling to their fragile relationship until the very end, even if he had long since stopped understanding what was between them. Were they dating or had Naruko tacitly nullified that arrangement? Had his feelings grown weaker after the new problems piled up, or were they still just as strong? What was worse was that they couldn't even talk about it. Naruko wouldn't start, and Imaizumi simply lacked the courage again. And he again had no idea what to expect at the end of it all.

When he went back to his room after dinner, he planned to sort out his homework for the summer. He still had two Potions essays to write and a Transfiguration paper to prepare, and for the first time he was leaving his homework to the very end.

Taking the necessary textbooks out of the bookcase, he sat down at his desk and really did work on his essay for a while, but closer to bedtime he did stop, thinking again that he really had better talk to his parents. Or at least to his mom. When else would there be a good time to do that?

Yes, the courage to do so was clearly lacking — Imaizumi wanted to find out the truth and was afraid of it at the same time — but still he pulled himself together and called out to one of the house-elves.

“Does the master want something?” the house-elf who appeared with a clap of Apparition said courteously and bowed low.

“Could you... tell my mother to come and see me?” Imaizumi asked uncertainly, feeling awkward (he always felt this way when he had to make a request to house-elves).

“Will do,” the house-elf replied readily, then disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.

Imaizumi turned back to his essay with a frown, tapped the edge of the parchment with the dried tip of his quill, and set it aside. It looked like he was definitely not going to be able to concentrate on his studies anymore today — so the problem needed an immediate solution?

It was already foolish to doubt it. Imaizumi got up from his chair, opened the window to let some air into the bedroom, and looked out at the darkening sky, as if expecting to see an owl with a letter. Naruko, for example, could write him something in his spirit.

Realising what he was thinking, Imaizumi grinned involuntarily. He thought back to Naruko even at a time like this, when he might soon be learning something very important and long troubling?

Well, he was incorrigible, apparently.

When there was finally a muffled knock on the door, the sky was still empty. Imaizumi covered the window a bit and responded with permission to enter. His mother looked a little tired as she walked leisurely into the bedroom, tightening the waistband of her long silk dressing gown as she went.

“Sorry to disturb you,” Imaizumi said, thinking too late that his mom must have been about to go to bed.

“You can come to me anytime, Shunsuke. Especially if something's wrong,” she said, stopping by the bed and adjusting the bedspread.

“Nothing's wrong,” Imaizumi replied quickly, sitting down on the edge of the desk and resting his hands on it. “What I want to ask about happened in the past. A relatively distant past.”

“М?” Mom said in surprise after looking at him. “In the past?”

“When I was nine,” Imaizumi said quietly, and before he could lower his gaze, he saw a flicker of concern in his mother's eyes. “You probably remember how I was kidnapped, don't you?”

“Oh,” she faltered. “You never talked about it. And your father and I tried not to remind you of it so explicitly... You were small, Shunsuke...”

“But still old enough to remember everything, right?” Imaizumi pointed out, already feeling that he had started this conversation for nothing. No, he really didn't want to know anything. He knew that something far worse than what he could imagine now had happened then. So was he brave enough to go into the details?

“That's true,” Mom agreed, and her voice became depressed. “But somehow you didn't remember anything. Nothing at all.”

“For some reason?” Imaizumi interjected. “Are you saying you don't know the reason? Someone erased my memories. Was it the kidnapper or you?”

“Probably neither.” Mom shook her head sadly. “You asked such strange questions. You asked about the ransom, even though there was no ransom demand. And you thought it was only two days. Sometimes I thought you did it yourself. You didn't erase the memories, you fixed them. Fixed them so they wouldn't hurt you.”

His heart hammered harder, and a lump immediately rose in his throat. Imaizumi felt sick at hearing that, and he turned away towards the window to avoid looking at his mother.

“I'm sorry, Shunsuke,” she added quietly. “I realise you'd like to know more, but to this day we still don't know the cause of the accident. It didn't make sense if you were just kidnapped and then just released.”

“There still has to be some sense to it,” Imaizumi struggled to answer.

“The best Obliviators in the Ministry were brought in to try to investigate the case,” Mom said. “I knew them personally, and they could restore any modified memory, but yours— It never worked on you, no matter how hard they tried. That's why they told me it wasn't just someone else's interference, it was yours because you were trying to protect yourself. Protect your psyche from something terrible.”

Protect my psyche from something terrible? Imaizumi muttered to himself and wrinkled his nose. From what? What had happened during the kidnapping?

“I was nine,” he said again. “Do you seriously think I could fix my memory without even knowing how to do it? It's not just some kind of accidental magic where objects fly into the air or water suddenly freezes.”

“I know,” Mom replied. “Apparently it's a special case, but you've had an amazing ability to control magic since you were a child. Don't you remember that? When you were six, one summer day you froze the grass and trees around you, and then you said you were just hot. When you were seven, you made a bunch of flowers grow right out of a teapot just to cheer me up a little after a hard day's work.”

“I don't remember,” Imaizumi grinned unhappily and looked at his mother. “Did I really do that?”

“And quite consciously,” she nodded. “You've hardly ever encountered the phenomenon of accidental magic. You were just doing magic at will. You could do really amazing things. After the kidnapping, you stopped. Your father and I were worried that something had happened to your powers, but you were doing great in your first year at Hogwarts.”

Shuddering involuntarily, Imaizumi turned away again.

I did really amazing things? he mentally repeated his mom's words. It seems like his abilities were originally superior to any other, and then he... stopped doing magic? After he was kidnapped? And actually, Imaizumi knew (especially now) enough about Obscurials to send a nasty chill down his spine.

But no, it certainly couldn't be related, he quickly stopped himself, though the unpleasant sensation still wouldn't let go. He might not have shown any magical ability for a couple of years before school, but then, it didn't cost him anything to cast his first spell, which immediately worked properly. There was nothing wrong with his magic. There shouldn't be any doubts, but... why did they arise after all?

Deciding that it was his life situation to blame, and the fact that he had a real Obscurial around him, Imaizumi tried to calm himself down and then looked at his mother again, who was now quite upset.

“You didn't mean to remind me, but you still did it quite often,” he said with a weak smile. “Every time you patronised me more than the circumstances demanded.”

“I thought I had lost you, Shunsuke,” Mom replied depressed. “You can't imagine how scared and hurt I was. How hard it was for me to let you go to Hogwarts. To let you go anywhere at all.”

“I understand, I'm sorry,” Imaizumi said guiltily.

Mom sighed noisily, seemingly trying to pull herself together, and asked after a short silence, “And why are you bringing it up now? Did something happen?”

“Not that—” Imaizumi had to lie again. “It's just that during term time I happened to remember, and I got curious. I thought I was missing something, and then I found confirmation of it when I looked for articles about the incident in old newspapers.”

“That's how it is,” Mom responded. “Well, I guess it's not surprising. You would have come back to it sooner or later anyway — you've always been a very inquisitive and curious child. I'm sorry I can't give you the answers you're looking for. Perhaps you could try to remember, though I wouldn't want you to. I don't want you to suffer. Maybe it's best to put it behind you. It's been so many years...”

“M,” Imaizumi said ambiguously, lowering his head. “Yeah, it might not be the best idea to try to get to the truth now.”

Mom didn't say anything in response to that. She just suddenly moved closer and hugged him, cradling his head against her shoulder.

“It's okay now,” she said, running her hand through his hair. “You've grown up, and I'm trying to believe that you can take care of yourself.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Imaizumi grinned involuntarily.

Pulling back, his mother held her palm on his elbow for a moment, then let go.

“It's nothing. You're going shopping in Diagon Alley tomorrow, aren't you? Try to have a good time there.”

“Huh? Have you been switched?” Imaizumi asked, and his mother frowned but quickly regained her former expression.

“I want to try to accept that you're different. And your friends too. Maybe it's not as bad as I thought it was before.”

“Definitely not bad,” Imaizumi agreed, and Mom left the room after wishing him a good night, closing the door quietly behind her.

Talking to her left mixed feelings. Imaizumi's heart warmed, though the anxiety about the past didn't disappear, only grew stronger. And he was lying when he said he remembered completely by accident. No, it wasn't — it was because of... Midousuji. Because of a man who was interested in Obscurus and wanted to get one for himself. But Manami only acquired it two years ago, and the very first one had been lost. What was Midousuji doing in between those two events?

Imaizumi quickly realised that these musings could easily lead him to a terrible assumption, and to avoid thinking about it, he took a cool shower and then got under the blanket immediately. It was better to set his mind on something else right now because tomorrow he would finally see Naruko.

* * *

He had to get used to crowded busy places almost every time. While Imaizumi was on summer holidays, he rarely had to be in crowds, and he preferred to enjoy the solitude and silence. But the days when he arranged to meet Onoda or Naruko — or both of them — in Diagon Alley to go shopping always promised to be eventful and certainly not quiet.

This time, Imaizumi wasn't expecting anything different. He thought it would go in their usual spirit, and certainly hadn't yet sensed any catch when he found himself in the Leaky Cauldron via the Floo Network.

After passing the wizard-filled hall (all the tables were occupied, and there weren't even enough seats), Imaizumi walked out into the empty backyard and checked the money in his bag before opening the passage in the brick wall.

When he was sure everything was in order, he pulled out his wand to tap the correct bricks in front of him and, feeling excited, took a deep breath.

It was mostly because of Naruko, or maybe just because of him alone. It was only now that Imaizumi was finally realising how much he had missed him all this time, and because of that, fantasies of their meeting began to appear in his head. And not realistic ones, because Naruko certainly wouldn't throw himself at him in public, though Imaizumi would give a lot for such a lively display of affection.

Thinking about it, he practically fell out of reality as he made his way down the street through the crowd to the Madam Malkin's. Robes for All Occasions designated as this year's meeting place. Imaizumi had expected to be the first to arrive because he had left too early, but Onoda, as it turned out, had shattered his assumption and was already standing near the porch, frowning as he stared at his phone.

“Something isn't working again?” Imaizumi smiled as he came closer, and Onoda finally noticed him.

“It's worse this time,” he replied grudgingly and smiled happily, quickly looking Imaizumi over from head to toe. “Hi Shunsuke, it's good to see you.”

“Likewise,” Imaizumi replied, turning around for a couple of seconds to unconsciously search the crowd of people for a bright red head. “How's it going? Everything quiet so far?” he asked, glancing at Onoda again.

“After the Quidditch Championships quite,” Onoda nodded with a smile, causing a slight discouragement.

“After the Championships?” Imaizumi asked. “What happened at the Championship?”

“Nothing much!” Onoda exclaimed, obviously too loud for 'nothing much'. “Just a lot of impressions and everything! I've never seen a game like this before! And the stadium is just crazy with its size!”

“Yeah, you already told all that in your letter,” Imaizumi smiled again, trying to make his voice as soothing as possible. “How's Manami? Didn't go to get his books, I see?”

“Yeah,” Onoda confirmed, tucking his phone into his pocket. “He decided to stay home just in case.”

“Prudent,” Imaizumi nodded. “But will he still go to school?”

“No one seems to be able to talk him out of it,” Onoda replied in a somewhat hopeless tone, shrugging his shoulders.

“Have you told your father about it?”

“He knows. But Sangaku is an adult now, and no one can force him to do anything.”

“And what, no one even has a plan to keep him safe?” Imaizumi asked a little discouraged.

Looking around, Onoda made sure they were definitely not being overheard, and replied, “You know, Shunsuke, it's not just about Quidditch. Manami is afraid that someone might get hurt because of him. That Midousuji will try to find him through his loved ones. I understand that, but there's another problem. What happens if he gets his way? It's possible that many more people could get hurt, right?”

“Are you talking about war?” Imaizumi asked tensely and quietly.

“I don't know,” Onoda lowered his gaze. “Midousuji's motives seem vague to me, but Manami told me something else. He spoke to Professor Ishigaki shortly before he left.”

“What?” Imaizumi was taken aback, feeling the hairs on his arms stand on end at this information.

“I'm sorry,” Onoda apologised anxiously, raising his head again. “I didn't dare to write about it in letters, but Ishigaki seems to have confirmed all our hunches — he said that Midousuji would come after his own sooner or later anyway.”

“And you're only talking about this now...” still feeling shocked, Imaizumi said with difficulty.

“I know I should have told you right away,” Onoda said. “But Manami told me about it on holiday, and I was afraid to write about it in a letter, so I thought it would be better to explain it in person. They... had some sort of rift. That's why Ishigaki left the school. He's not going to help Midousuji anymore. But he won't do anything against him, either.”

“That simplifies things to a degree,” Imaizumi replied, starting to come to his senses. “Or not...”

“But that's not all,” Onoda continued. “Manami added something else. He doesn't know how to feel about it, but if Ishigaki is telling the truth, then Midousuji has no plans to start a war.”

“What?” Imaizumi asked again, wincing involuntarily. “But he needs the Obscurus for some reason.”

“Perhaps he thinks—” Onoda said, biting his lip. “If he successfully makes this power his own, his abilities will be so enormous that no one will risk going up against him.”

“But there's no specifics,” Imaizumi replied tensely, to which Onoda nodded.

“That's the point. Can you believe he's so after Obscurus power only to just have it? The true reason still seems to be unknown.”

Imaizumi frowned involuntarily — he didn't like all of this at all, the feeling of a huge gap in the whole story was almost physically pressing on his brain, and—

But before he could think hard or answer Onoda, something bright flashed in the periphery of his vision. From the direction he had come from, Imaizumi was suddenly pounced upon, with such force that he could barely stand on his feet. Oh, shit.

“Hey!” Naruko shouted, holding Imaizumi tightly and pressing his cheek against his shoulder. “What's with the droopy faces you guys have? You don't want to go to school?”

Naruko chuckled loudly and merrily, letting go of Imaizumi and clapping confused Onoda on the shoulder.

Imaizumi's mind went blank after what had happened, only a few seconds, but he could feel Naruko, his strong arms, his pleasant pressure... God, what the—

“You're late,” Imaizumi replied glumly, trying to put on a mask of nonchalance, but Naruko only smiled even wider and more contentedly, and then his younger brothers appeared on either side of him.

“Maman let me watch them today and let us go alone. Even trusted me with the money, can you imagine, ha!”

“Oh,” Onoda smiled, regaining his composure. “Looks like we have a lot to do today.”

“Yeah,” Naruko said, placing his fists on his hips. “We're graduates, so we all need our dress robes, right?”

“Don't remind me,” Onoda laughed awkwardly.

“Not me. My parents will hire a tailor over winter break,” Imaizumi refused, to which Naruko waved his hand dismissively.

“Shin and I still need to buy a couple for school.”

“And I'm sure it's because someone just doesn't know how to take care of their clothes, not because they're growing up,” Imaizumi pointed out, not knowing why.

Naruko could have flared up at that and said something nasty or snide in response, but he surprisingly did nothing of the sort, just smirked ambiguously, and then pushed his brothers towards the front of the shop.

Imaizumi and Onoda followed, though one of them didn't exactly need new robes — Imaizumi just had to keep them company, and on the one hand, it was good that Naruko had come later. Onoda had managed to tell Imaizumi important information, and now Imaizumi was trying to figure out a way to convey everything he had heard to Naruko.

Besides them, there was a rather sluggish family in the shop, and their daughter was overly meticulous about the fitting of the robe, constantly lecturing the shop owner on how to do her job. It could all be a drag, so Imaizumi decided to take advantage of the case, grabbed Naruko by the elbow, and pulled him towards the washroom.

The washroom here was uncomfortably cramped for two people. Smaller room contained a sink, a toilet and a bin — hardly enough room to turn around. Imaizumi only somehow oddly turned a blind eye to the inconvenience and quickly cast Muffliato after locking the door.

“Found a fucking place,” Naruko broke out unhappily, but he barely took a step back as he bumped his back.

“I don't know when we'll be able to talk anytime soon,” Imaizumi replied glumly, tucking his wand back into his robe pocket. “And it's best not to mention such things in letters. If the owl suddenly falls into the wrong hands—”

“I get it, I get it!” Naruko looked at Imaizumi from under his fringes, his arms folded across his chest. “What's wrong?”

“Manami,” Imaizumi said dryly. “He could have told us everything before we went home, but he decided to drag it out. Maybe he doesn't need us as allies that much.”

“So, let's get to the point, shall we?” Naruko asked, wincing and raising his palm.

Gathering his thoughts, Imaizumi tried to recount Onoda's words as accurately as possible, and as Naruko listened, the emotions on his face changed from surprise to incomprehension. Thankfully, he didn't interrupt, for which Imaizumi was immensely grateful, otherwise he simply wouldn't have had the restraint not to raise his voice.

“Why didn't he say so right away?” Naruko asked, blinking when Imaizumi finished.

“How the hell would I know? You've been listening to his thoughts for a year, not me. I can never figure out what he's even thinking.”

Blinking again, Naruko lowered his gaze, pressed his fingers to his chin thoughtfully, and muttered something to himself, causing Imaizumi to roll his eyes.

“Well, I can think of one thing,” Naruko said at last. “Maybe he has some kind of plan?”

“A plan?” Imaizumi raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“Well, yeah,” Naruko shrugged. “He's got something in mind. And it looks like it's something we're not supposed to know about for some reason. Okay, whatever, I'll just try to talk to him when we get back to school.”

“Suit yourself,” Imaizumi gave up too quickly and turned towards the door, nearly hitting Naruko with his shoulder.

Almost touching the latch to open the door and walk out, Imaizumi suddenly changed his mind and lowered his hand. Perhaps this really was the only chance for them to talk before they parted until the start of term. Was it worth missing this chance for nothing?

“Hey, Naruko,” Imaizumi started hesitantly, turning back around to face the interested gaze. “Do you still… like me?”

Naruko raised his eyebrows in surprise and stared at Imaizumi for a few seconds, but when he opened his mouth to answer, they were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door, causing both of them to flinch.

“How long can you stay in there? You're not alone in here!” came an unpleasant female voice.

Imaizumi unhappily clucked his tongue, still opening the door, and stepped outside first. The girl, the same one the salesman had recently served, blinked in surprise, raising her head, but he ignored her completely as he walked past, just as he ignored her indignant exclamation when she saw that there were two guys in the bathroom.

“I need to get some air. I'll wait for you on the porch,” Imaizumi said to Onoda, who was watching the shop owner put a large baggy robe on Shingo.

Onoda only had time to nod in response before Imaizumi rushed outside, but the fresh air didn't make him feel any better. He remembered his awkward question, remembered Naruko's reaction, and wanted to immediately sink into the ground because why— It would be better if he kept quiet, God. What was he trying to accomplish with all of this, anyway?

With no answer, Imaizumi waited on the porch until the boys were done and left the shop with large paper bags.

“These dress robes look so awkward,” Onoda complained, turning to Naruko, and the latter just laughed in response to those words, letting him know that it was okay.

Maybe he would forget the ridiculousness that had happened in the bathroom. God, Imaizumi felt like a complete idiot now, deciding to ask such a thing in such an inappropriate place.

And it was good that Naruko was behaving as usual — Imaizumi had no idea what he would have done otherwise, but everything seemed to have turned out okay. The mood within the company was good, even great. Together they all set off to do the rest of their shopping and on the way, of course, they stopped by Quality Quidditch Supplies to look at the new items and buy the first personal broom for Naruko's youngest brother.

So far, nothing had gone wrong, except the queues in the shops were annoying, but the waiting time flew by quickly because the conversations didn't stop for a minute, and Shingo attacked Onoda directly with questions about the Quidditch Championships. Imaizumi, listening, tried to figure out when they would be free and what they could do after shopping. They could sit in an ice cream parlour, or they could go to a joke shop, or—

They'd left the bookstore for the very end because textbooks were always heavy and Naruko was already rolling a large, densely packed suitcase across the ground, trying to fit his stuff and his brothers' stuff in it, too.

The bookstore, of course, was also crowded, and a queue had gathered near the counter. Imaizumi had stepped away from the others briefly to pick out some more literature, and didn't notice when he reached the farthest shelves on the ground floor.

Not all the books there were arranged on the shelve — there were also piles and battered boxes of other books on the floor, and Imaizumi wouldn't have paid attention to them if he had not thought he heard a momentary sound from that direction. Turning around, he looked at the boxes and at first he didn't notice anything unusual, but a little later his gaze caught on a locked hatch in the floor that was barely visible. One of the heavy boxes was almost completely blocking it — perhaps there was an entrance to some basement area of the shop, Imaizumi shouldn't have cared either way. Basements were often home to critters of some kind — it could be the most common rats.

With a wince of disgust, Imaizumi went back to his book selection and had already found a curious one when Onoda's voice suddenly called out to him, almost startling him. Why was he so nervous?

“We lost you. Looking for something interesting?” Onoda asked, approaching with a large bag slung over his shoulder.

“Ah, yes,” Imaizumi agreed and again glanced involuntarily at the hatch in the floor. He could have sworn something was rumbling in there again.

“I've already bought everything I need,” Onoda said. “I had to use the Shrinking Charm, but it didn't make me feel any better,” he added, adjusting the strap of his bag with an effort.

“Sakamichi...” Imaizumi said quietly, keeping his gaze on the hatch.

There was a muffled noise again, and then... the lid suddenly lifted up as far as the metal eyes held in place by the padlock would allow, and then dropped back down with a clatter, as if something from below had pushed it open. Something... strong. This was not a good thing.

“Shunsuke?” Onoda answered fearfully. “W-what is it?”

The incoherent and animal-like growling that came from under the floor finally forced Imaizumi to think and act. They had to get out of here. And as soon as possible.

“Shit!” Imaizumi cursed, quickly grabbing his wand.

The first thing he did was to point it at the lock of the emergency exit door, which was quite near here, and ordered, “Alohomora!” The lock opened and fell to the floor, jingling on impact. Imaizumi pushed the door open to the outside, grabbed trembling Onoda by the elbow (because the hatch was already trying to open again), and steered him towards the exit. But before he could pop out next, Imaizumi swung his wand again, difficulty forcing the heavy shelves to move. He needed to block the passage to the other part of the shop so the creature from under the floor wouldn't get to the others. And if that didn't work?

But there was no time to think anymore. Onoda yelled his name from behind him, this time in a voice full of terror, and Imaizumi only had time to see the broken hatch lock fly off as the lid opened.

He nearly fell as he rushed down the steps and found himself on the other side of the street, where, damn it, there were people too. Turning around as fast as he could, Imaizumi pushed Onoda behind his back and at the very last second, he raised his wand again to put the Shield Charm around them.

What burst out of the basement slammed straight into the shield with a horrible roar, and the disgusting smell of earth and rot immediately hit his nose. Imaizumi only now realised what was in front of him, and it made not only his hands tremble, but his entire body.

A dead man.

A dead man who had come back to life, crawled out of the grave.

His flesh was decayed gray, revealing his bones, his eye sockets empty, his clothes torn and dirty.

And he wasn't alone. A whole bunch of similarly reanimated corpses were coming out of the basement hatch, and Imaizumi knew what they were called. Inferi. The dead who had been brought back to life through magic by a wizard or several wizards.

“Not one step away from me!” Imaizumi shrieked, turning around for a second. He noticed Onoda fiddling with his watch in a panic with tears in his eyes, trying to do something about the time setting button.

There was no time to ask about it. Another dead people hit the shield and the magic weakened, causing Imaizumi himself to panic more, simply not knowing what to do now. The other inferi — they kept climbing out of the hatch — rushed further down the street, and it wasn't long before the first screams of wizards could be heard, who were going about their business and just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Another blow. The Shield Charm dissipated, Imaizumi already thought that they were finished, when suddenly he heard a familiar voice not far away from him.

“Incarcerous!”

It was Naruko. He had used a spell that caused the dead man to become entangled in ropes, causing him to move back and then fall. God, what was he doing here? Why didn't he run?

“Stupefy! Petrificus Totalus!” he began to shout one spell after another, sending them at the dead.

There was terror in his eyes and indescribable emotion on his face, but he didn't stop, attacking and attacking, saving them.

There was panic somewhere behind him, someone was shouting spells, trying to defend themselves, and Imaizumi suddenly realised that he had to do something too, to help in some way. But before he could even get over his shock and pull himself together, one of the dead men still managed to get close to Naruko and had already grabbed his wrist.

“Stop,” Imaizumi uttered desperately and barely audibly, raising his wand, but now he was so pitifully slow.

“Stupefy!” someone else intervened, someone apparently an adult judging by the voice.

The reanimated dead man flew aside from Naruko, freeing him, and Imaizumi only now, as he looked at the man who had appeared next to him, realised why his voice sounded familiar. Onoda's father?

He didn't hesitate for a second. In just an instant, at the command of his wand, a couple of dead people who had fallen to the ground caught fire, and then the emergency entrance to the bookstore suddenly exploded with a deafening bang.

Imaizumi belatedly pressed his palms to his ears. Dizzy, he squeezed his eyes shut and heard nothing at all for a while, until the deafening silence was replaced by an unpleasant, nauseating ringing.

Taking a few steps back, and then another, Imaizumi tried to catch a glimpse of Naruko or Onoda, but someone suddenly shoved him, picked him up, and hurriedly led him somewhere behind him.

“Don't just stand here! Get out of here!” they shouted in his ear, but Imaizumi broke free.

He's not running anywhere! Not—

People were scurrying about, and he could hear the sound of spells, explosions and screams. It was still a little ringing in his ears, and Imaizumi, almost without realising what he was doing, stepped through the first door he could find and somehow found himself back inside the bookstore. The place was empty now, but there were books and things thrown around everywhere. The dead people had also made their way through the barrier of racks he'd made — Imaizumi realised this when he heard the noise and growling approaching. He wasn't even given a break.

He tried to run back outside, but he tripped over something on the way, fell to his knees, and picked up his wand again with a trembling hand.

“P-protego,” he begged helplessly, feeling the magic flowing under his skin.

I'm definitely, definitely going to be locked up at home, he thought in despair, though the thought was incredibly ridiculous right now.

His head was bowed, as if trying to shrink into a single point, and he almost didn't hear another voice that had appeared, but the growls and roars of the creatures were silenced for a moment, and then a heavy palm was placed on his shoulder. Imaizumi flinched in horror, realising that the shield was no longer working, and raised his head, immediately facing the concerned gaze of the unfamiliar man.

“It's alright, kid!” he said confidently. “I'm an Auror, I'll protect you!”

“Naruko,” Imaizumi shook his head and saw the inferi burning, twitching in the flames.

“Naruko?” the man asked. “Is that a relative of yours or a friend? I'm going to Apparate you to a safe place now! I promise he'll get help!”

“No!” Imaizumi opposed.

Without listening to anything else, he jumped to his feet and rushed out of the shop and into the street, but there... something changed. Imaizumi darted to the right and then to the left, not knowing where to run or where to look. He noticed that there were far fewer people, and no more walking dead — those that did get in the way were charred remains, and the smell of them was so foul that Imaizumi could barely contain his nausea.

He didn't know how long it was before he did find what he was looking for. Another Auror he encountered shouted something at him — Imaizumi didn't even listen, because it didn't even matter now. Not now, when he finally spotted the familiar red hair up ahead. Naruko was sitting with his back to him, for some reason right on the ground near the towering potions shop building, and there were some strangers around him.

Still not realising anything, Imaizumi ran to him, stumbling and nearly falling at the very end, and then froze with horror when he finally saw what was wrong. It was Shingo. He was seemingly unconscious, and Naruko held him in his lap while the adults standing nearby discussed something in fear.

“All the Aurors are outside Gringotts right now!” one of the men shouted. “The same thing that happened at the bookstore happened there!”

“I don't care, go and find someone! The boy needs to go to the hospital right now!” a woman responded, and then Imaizumi couldn't hear any more. He stopped hearing, stopped perceiving anything other than what was now in front of his eyes.

He sank to his knees on weakened legs, and Naruko still looked up at him with crying eyes.

“W-what?” Imaizumi said barely audibly. “Why?”

“Someone's spell hit him! I don't know!” Naruko cried out, and Imaizumi was even more frightened when he saw blood in Shingo's hair.

“Naruko...” Imaizumi called out, trying to calm him down a little, though he needed to calm down first. “The Healers will help him... Naruko...”

“Shut up!” Naruko shook his head, dropping tears again. “I'm going to kill him! I'll find whoever did this and I'll kill him!”

I know who did it, Imaizumi said to himself, biting his lip painfully. He understood everything even without proof, he could feel it and wondered with mute desperate questions:

What will happen now? God, what will happen now, and why did this nightmare come so suddenly?

Imaizumi reached out to touch Naruko's palm, which was clutching Shingo's shoulder, but he stopped and cursed helplessly, feeling weaker than ever and unable to do anything. Because he couldn't do anything. Nothing at all when he was needed.