The festivities surrounding the castle had been ramped up recently; more so in this year than the past few years Agrimony had been there. Were it any other holiday, he'd find himself hiding away from most of the students and the festivities, but Halloween seemed to carry it's own sort of festive quality that he found a bit Charming. Even so, Agrimony had had quite enough of everything and took advantage of people going to sleep and storing up their energy. The minute he'd heard the light snores from his dorm mates was when he scooted out of bed, shrugging on his thicker robe to exit the common room. Shadows enveloping him as he walked through the dungeons, Agrimony appreciated the gradual exposure to the lamplights lining the hallways. Eventually they faded as he crossed the threshold of the castle and stepped out onto the grounds.

Cold air nipped at his skin and ears, to which his response was to pull his hood over his head even further. As he did so, a noise behind him caught his attention, though he only quickened his pace, heading for the even deeper shadows that seeped out of the Black Forest like a gash. The noise behind him got a bit louder; hastened even. Frowning, the Slytherin made haste and eventually leapt into the shadows. His cloak made little sound as he slipped behind an obliging tree.

A stick cracked through the silence of the air followed by a pause. If he quieted his own breathing, Agrimony could hear the person approaching. Their footsteps were not the lightest, apparently. And yet even without having caught a glimpse of his pursuer, he felt he knew who it was. Even so, out of an abundance of caution, he slipped his wand out of his pocket. A small blade with a silver handle was clutched in his other hand.

Now, something told him, and he watched the figure pass him. Slipping behind the intruder, Agrimony brought the blade around to rest on the figure's throat, the end of his wand digging into the back of their head. "Don't move."

---

Autumn had always been Basil’s favorite season. Ever since he could remember, the brisk crispness of the season and the coziness of curling up with a cup of tea while he watched the leaves change had been a dear comfort to the boy. (Atticus used to tease him that he was born an old man, with a cup of tea and a book in his hands, but Mama had always frowned at them and commented how ridiculously uncomfortable that would have been. He didn’t know why, per say, but he supposed being born with a book attached to one would be rather strange…)  With autumn came many splendid things however, like apple flavored drinks and pumpkin pasties! Pumpkin pasties were his favorite. Too though came less pleasant things like All Hallows Eve, and being scared out of one’s wits. Basil was not keen on fear, or pranks. In fact, he generally avoided both as much as possible.

The feast this year was splendid as always. Basil had eaten his weight in pumpkin pasties and other nonsense that he usually abstained from. Then, setting off to the library to wait out the rest of the evening away from those in his house or others that liked to take the spirit of things too far, Basil tucked a thick tomb under his arm and waddled off. Time passed quickly curled up in front of the fire reading about Samhein. (He might not enjoy the spooky traditions, but reading up and informing oneself on them was another thing entirely.) It was nearly midnight before the Ravenclaw realized and he blinked the reading haze from his eyes, in confusion. Why had the librarian not shoo’d him off to bed yet? Surely they had realized the hour?

Shutting the book, Basil stretched a bit and decided he might as well creep out while he could. There was no sense in getting detention, again, for something silly. Not that… last time he hadn’t deserved it. Even if Macnair had tried to save him from it.

Basil’s cheeks heated at the thought of that day and landing on top of Agrimony Macnair in their tumble. He didn’t know why but the reminder made him feel antsy and warm under the collar. Recently Basil had noticed he was much more… aware of Macnair’s presence than before. Where once they were veritable strangers from two different houses in a rather large school, now they seemed to run into one another at every turn. Basil couldn’t say he was displeased with the development, really. He was starting to find he actually rather liked Macnair’s company. The Slytherin was… quiet. Peaceful to sit with even, and intelligent. There was just something about the way his brain worked that fascinated the Ravenclaw.

It was with these thoughts that Basil made his way from the library back towards Ravenclaw Tower. He was surprised then when a shadow seemed to appear from nowhere and slip out of the castle a bit of a ways away. Before he could round the corner and mind his own business, as students out of bed were prefect problems not his, a ray of moonlight illuminated the hooded face and Basil started. Speak of the bloody devil…

For a moment, Basil hesitated. Really, it was none of his business what Macnair was up to at this time of night. He ought to mind his own business and steal off to his dorm before getting caught out of bed himself! But then, what was it they said about curiosity and cats? Basil made up his mind before he could think better of it and made to follow Macnair out onto the grounds. He could recall the other, get them both safely back to bed, right?

As he stole cautiously behind the figure, Basil was surprised at the stealth with which the Slytherin moved. Even more surprised was he at the direction. A frown creased the brunette's brow as he debated hissing into the darkness after the other. He’d just about made up his mind to do it when all of a sudden, Macnair vanished. Basil slowed, already too uncomfortably close to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. His pulse was racing as he crept forward and then a stick snapped under his foot.

Instantly, Basil felt something launch upon him and he stilled, hands coming out in front of himself in surrender, book still clutched firmly. A wand poked into his head making the brunette grimace even as that familiar voice curled into his ear. Basil frowned. “Agrimony,” he stressed the unfamiliar syllables with a chiding whisper into the relative silence around them. (They tasted foreign on his tongue.) “It’s me, Foxwood.”

---

---

If the book in the person's hand didn't give Agrimony cause for confusion, it certainly was hearing his name on foreign lips. There weren't a lot of people in Hogwarts that called him by his first name, and even when they did, they never had an effect on him like this. His spine straightened and he felt himself freeze — it wasn't something he was used to, and only served to force the scowl on his face deeper. "Foxwood?" Of course it was Foxwood.

No matter what he did, he always happened to run into the older boy on campus; it perplexed him seeing as most people went out of their way to avoid Agrimony at whatever cost — anyone paired with him in class had always jumped out of their seat to scurry away, and yet Foxwood seemed to have the opposite instinct. Whether that was due to Foxwood genuinely liking him or due to a lack of self-preservation (highly unlikely the bloke was a Ravenclaw), Agrimony had to admit, it intrigued him.

But nevermind his confusion, that could wait. Was that a bloody book in Foxwood's hand? Who brought a book with them to the Forbidden Forest? So bewildered by this inconsequential object in Foxwood's hand, Agrimony almost forgot to lower his wand. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?" He heard himself say before stepping back, withdrawing his knife and wand at the same time.

---

Basil could feel his heart pounding in his eardrums as the wand to his head left a sharp impression. He’d never known Macnair to be so quick to draw, but it was a mental note he filed away for further examination later. For now, his breath came out in shallow little rasps, waiting for the other to withdraw and address him like a gentleman. His surname on the other’s tongue didn’t help the flutter of doxy wings in his unsettled stomach, even as Agrimony finally did pull back.

Basil let out a soft breath and lowered his hands, turning to face the younger Slytherin. He was met with a visage he was… quite familiar with by now, as they slowly, awkwardly bumbled their way towards friendship (he hoped.) Basil didn’t make and retain many friends, at least not easily, and he was proud to count Macnair as one of them these days. He found Macnair pleasant what with his comfortable quietness, and refusal to demand much of anything from Basil in the first place. It was an easy acquaintance he found himself drawn to. At the blonde’s sharp question however, Basil only flinched.

“Er— I saw you leave the castle and I…” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, grey eyes darting towards the ground. A soft blush touched Basil’s features as he contemplated finishing that sentence. I wondered where you were going, I wanted to warn you about being out late, I wanted to spend time with you— Deciding against it, he dropped his hand back to his side. “I dunno! What are you doing out of bed anyway?” Cornered, the response was a bit defensive even as Basil continued to feel warm under the collar. He wasn’t the one in the wrong here in the first place! Though… now he supposed they both were.

---

---

He slipped both his knife and his wand into his cloak as Foxwood fumbled for his answer, eventually bringing his gaze to rest on the other boy, eyebrow quirked. He knew Foxwood was searching for an answer, and he had a feeling Foxwood knew it too. And yet Agrimony watched him curiously, wondering what his excuse would be. Maybe it was just the fact that last time they'd been together he had found it rather funny to see the Ravenclaw squirm under pressure — weren't they supposed to be intelligent, smart and all that? — and so he did nothing to lift his interrogating expression from Foxwood's pale features.

Even through the thick density of the night he could tell — perhaps not see, but tell — that Foxwood was blushing. A smile quirked at the corner of his lips.

Then immediately dropped. He hadn't been expecting that insipid of an answer. Before he knew what he was doing, he let out a bark of a laugh. "Why don't you find out for yourself?" He challenged, his grin cutting an even wider path across his features. "That's why you came out here, wasn't it?" Before he got an answer, he pivoted and donned his cloak's hood again.

---

At the laugh that escaped Macnair’s vocals, Basil felt himself flush again. He wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment or pride, perhaps a mix of both. He’d never heard Macnair laugh before, much less inspire him to do it. Basil wasn’t thrilled that he was being laughed at, he supposed, but it was still nice to hear it. With a small huff the Ravenclaw narrowed grey hues. He could sense a challenge when he was issued one and the tone Macnair took with him then was certainly meant as such.

Basil knew better than to fall for it.

He did anyway.

Trailing after the Slytherin as Macnair ventured deeper into the forest, Basil drew his own wand and grumbled to himself. If he lost Ravenclaw house points for this he was going to be terribly annoyed. They had a decent chance at the cup this year and guess who was on their tail. Slytherin. Jogging to catch up, Basil grabbed onto Agrimony’s cloak and tugged the hood down with a smug grin of his own. “What are you hiding from your own shadow?” he teased. “Come on. What are you up to Macnair? I’m sure it can’t be any good and I’d like to know if I have to prepare any more healing spells for you before the fact this time.” Grey hues glittered with mischief. Basil knew better than to encourage this type of thing but... something about the Slytherin brought out a side to him that was more than just safe all the time.

---

---

Agrimony wasn't used to people touching him - touching his things. Even with brothers, he had always been hesitant to share. Living in an upper class household, there was hardly ever reason for sharing their things. So when Foxwood relieved him of his just donned hood, Agrimony — without skipping a step, for he'd taken this path before — swiveled to glare at him before reaching to pull it back on. "A Ravenclaw as smart as you like you ought to know why, shouldn't you?" He shot back, fingers itching to unsheathe his knife again if Foxwood ended up committing to nettling him the entire trip.

Blending into the shadows was the answer, and he wasn't about to reveal why he was here at any point. Truth of the matter was that he didn't entirely trust Foxwood yet; was nothing against the Ravenclaw, but it took more than merely healing some cuts on his person to make Agrimony stop thinking of all the ways to escape.

"Besides, what if I refuse to answer?"

---

Basil was mostly prepared for the irritation he knew his teasing would insight in the Slytherin. He knew Macnair to some degree by now and it didn’t stop him. So, when the other inevitably did round on him, annoyed, Basil only snickered. “Let me guess, trying to slink along?” he continued in the same teasing lilt as before. “I hate to break it to you but my tromping along beside you essentially does away with that reality.” Ravenclaw indeed. It was so like a Slytherin to think of only themself, Basil thought fondly.

As the other refused to answer, the brunette let out a soft sigh. “I can’t force you to trust me Agrimony,” he said gently. “But I wish you would.” Basil could understand the other’s hesitance he supposed. He, himself, was not one to trust easily or openly. But they’d had a few moments before. Surely that meant something, didn’t it? At least in so much as the Slytherin could trust him not to bail out on a whim. He’d protected Macnair twice now, once from undue blame and once from himself. “At least tell me if I should be worried about you,” he conceded. “I’d hate for anything to happen that might be… avoidable.”

---

---

Slink along; just because he was in Slytherin didn’t mean he embodied the characteristics of the house mascot. Foxwood certainly didn’t embody many qualities of an eagle: loud, flapping around. He shot a relatively irritated scowl at Foxwood before listening to his cajoling. It grated his nerves, Foxwood wasn’t his mother, nor were they at all remotely good friends, yet the Ravenclaw had seemed to latch onto Agrimony as if he were a lost duckling.

“I’m wearing a cloak because there are worse things in the Forbidden Forest than shadows, Foxwood.” He turned, reaching out and tweaking his nose. “I would have thought you of all people understood that.”

Without another word, he continued on, picking his way across what seemed like a very random path. After a few seconds, he checked to see that the Ravenclaw was at least still following him before offering his explanation: “It seems like that Ravenclaw curiosity of yours will get the better of you. I’m going to fetch some acromantula venom.”

---

Basil was not prepared for the moment Macnair turned around and grabbed him by the nose. It didn’t hurt, per say, but it surprised him more than the Ravenclaw was willing to admit. Every time he was this close to Macnair he felt something in his stomach twist but the feeling was so fleeting that by the time he bothered to let himself think about it, dissect it, it was gone. So was the same case here as the Slytherin quipped at him and made to keep going. Basil frowned.

Rubbing his nose, brow still pinched a bit, he didn’t respond to the comment about shadows. Basil very well knew that this was not the place he wanted to be, but he also felt a pang of guilt at just leaving Macnair behind. So, grumpy, he muttered back: “That didn’t answer my question.”

Eventually the other spoke again. Basil was hot on his heels, determined not to be left behind but knowing it was likely useless to try and convince the Slytherin out of whatever had gotten into his head. It wasn’t until Macnair mentioned an acromantula that Basil paused in his tracks as if frozen. “Agrimony, no!“ His voice was a lot deeper, more forceful than Basil had expected. “You can’t just waltz into an acromantula colony! It doesn’t matter what precautions you may have brought, you won’t survive it.” Standing firm, Basil was determined not to take a step further. There was no bloody way he was going to support this, or go along with the Slytherin’s ludicrous scheme!

“I know I followed you of my own volition, but please don’t be… hardheaded about this.” He knew Macnair would be, so it was an empty plea. Exasperated already, Basil’s voice softened. “Let’s just head back to the castle. We’re in enough trouble as it is if we get caught this late.”

---

---

He didn’t need to see Foxwood’s reaction, but he was sorely tempted to turn around and take a peek at the likely horrified expression on the Ravenclaw’s face. Merlin, if he wanted to ever be amused again, apparently all it took was a Ravenclaw in the Forbidden Forest. After waiting a few seconds, admittedly just to make him squirm, Agrimony turned back to Foxwood, his lips pressed in a thin line. “Foxwood. How gullible are you — and how dumb do you think I am?” He asked acidly. He wasn’t a Gryffindor, nor was he searching for any type of glory via an idiotic act.

The cajoling tone he heard in Foxwood’s voice was beginning to set his teeth on edge again, and he sent up a prayer that he wouldn’t get injured for Foxwood to fuss over him again. Agrimony had to admire the fact that he dug his heels so far in; and additionally took note of how quickly Foxwood had believed him. “I need bat wings and dittany.” Which should certainly be easier than taking down a godforsaken acromantula. He exhaled a huff of annoyance before stalking back to the Ravenclaw, quickly slipping behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder and pushing. “It’s not that much further away, just keep your knickers on and help me get the bats or turn tail and go back to the dorms. Your choice.”

---

It took a moment for Basil to realize what Macnair was saying. Gullible? Dumb? Oh… he’d been teasing. How rude! Basil’s frown deepened and this time his arms crossed over his chest, irritated. “That’s not funny, Macnair!” He growled. “I wouldn’t put it past you to think you’re clever enough to brave an acromantula colony all on your own!” Mostly because a part of Basil believed the bastard could do it, but he’d never admit that aloud. It wasn’t worth the risk.

Bat wings and dittany, well that sounded a lot more reasonable! (Not that Basil wanted to give in being annoyed so quickly.) Resisting the push a bit, even as he took a few steps forward, the Ravenclaw huffed. “Bats,” he grumbled again. “What the hell do you need bat wings and dittany for? Can’t you wait until the next Hogsmeade trip and buy them at the apothecary like a normal person?” Despite the grouched protest, he resumed a normal pace beside Macnair.

“What is it with you and trouble?” Basil asked after a pause, irritation simmering but curiosity still provoking the potentially cruel question. “Why is it we’re almost always risking a detention when I stumble upon you?” The last was more mused to himself rhetorically than posed to Macnair, but Basil still wondered. He did seem to get into more brushes with this Slytherin than any of his other… er- friends. And it wasn’t just because he was a Slytherin either! He and Nee got into trouble occasionally, but they didn’t boast nearly the track record that Basil had with Agrimony…

---

---

He might not have actually been intending for it to be a joke, but Foxwood’s outrage nearly made him laugh. Though he considered it a compliment that someone thought that he might actually confront an acromantula colony by himself; it wasn’t as if he hadn’t entertained the thought of it, but it had never been worth the risk to his person. He wouldn’t put it past a Gryffindor though, especially if it were to brag over breakfast.

“I’ll take that as an insult, I’m not a Gryffindor obsessed with the idea of being ‘great’ and ‘daring’.” After walking another 10 meters, Agrimony squinted down at the base of a tree and spotted the tell tale sign of the very herb he was looking for. He bent down and plucked a few bushels. “Hogsmeade’s apothecary has horrible quality dittany.” He said by way of explanation before handing the dittany to Foxwood. “What is it with you and questions?” He volleyed back before crouching again. “Weren’t you the one just going on an on about trust?”

Glancing at his pocketwatch in the light of the moon, Agrimony looked to the forested sky. “Almost time…” he murmured to himself before picking some more dittany and stuffing it in his pockets.

---

Basil was nonplussed at the notion of Gyffindors or thier ‘daring.’ He didn’t care what bumbling morons did in thier free time, he cared about this moron and his excuses about poor quality dittany. (Though, upon later reflection, he’d realize that perhaps Macnair had a point.) For now, crossing his arms over his chest again as they walked, Basil stared at the ground in his annoyance. They paused not 10 meters distance away and he found himself handed some bushels of the stuff which the Ravenclaw stared at skeptically. It wasn’t like the potions master could tell they’d stolen this from the Forbidden Forest, right?

Tucking it into his pocket, Basil huffed at Macnair’s volly about trust. “You’d have to actually give me something to go off of in order for me to trust you,” he muttered. Trust was learned after all, not given freely. Especially in the somewhat reserved Ravenclaw’s case. He turned to let his grey gaze follow Macnair’s green one upwards through the foliage to the night sky beyond. From this vantage point there were more stars than Basil had ever observed merely over the castle grounds, even this late in the evening. He released his anguish with a soft breath.

Almost time. Time for the bats to come out, he was sure. Curling his fingers around the book he still held onto, Basil shifted. He became suddenly aware of how quiet the forest was around them. Questions prickled at the corners of his mind but, given Macnair’s last retort, he decided to keep them to himself.

---

---

He’d struck a nerve. The darkness was just dim enough that Agrimony was sure his smile would go undetected. Besides, his grin could be attributed to the bats, in any case. The silence settling over the forest was a familiar one. It lay like a blanket until all that was left was their own breath, billowing out in soft clouds in front of them. And then Agrimony heard it: the slight rustling of wings - then the chittering of the creatures.

But before he could enact his plan to catch one of them, they suddenly dispersed and he saw an object flying straight for Foxwood’s head. “Foxwood, move dammit!” He snapped, and for a split second he was content to let the bat hit the Ravenclaw. Then something got the better of him and he lunged for the other boy, knocking him down. Something - likely something he’d given Foxwood — Merlin was he still holding onto that book?! — made contact with his ribs and he winced, unsure if the crack he just heard was a branch snapping or something much worse.

---

Basil was still mulling over this whole bizarre situation as he stared up at the stars. Why had he followed Macnair out here? Why was he still standing by the Slytherin when it was obvious the other had no need or want of him? Was it better to just amble back to the castle on his own now and hope he could sneak back into Ravenclaw Tower before he was caught?

The bats startled before Basil even realized.

He heard Macnair’s warning before he registered the words. The sight of a zillion creatures taking flight overtop of them seemed to shock him in place and Basil didn’t even think to duck as one of them veered off, straight at him. It was lucky then that Macnair had quick reflexes.

Before Basil could process what had happened, he landed with a painful thud on the ground. The book he’d been holding was crushed bruisingly into his ribs with the heavy weight of something - or someone - overtop. Basil blinked his eyes open to register Macnair had shoved him over as the rush of bats hurled briefly overtop of them. Then, the sound of wings began to fade and Basil dug the book out from the place it was pinched in between himself and Macnair. A bad idea, in retrospect.

As the book was tossed gently to the side and Basil lay his head back, winded and slightly out of breath, he couldn’t help but register the feel of Macnair pressed into him. Grey hues searched the Slytherin’s blue ones for… he wasn’t sure what. Realizing belatedly that he should say something however, Basil cleared his throat. “Ah— thanks,” he said quietly.

---

---