February 11, 1893 — Hogwarts Corridors

Spring term had been absolute bollocks so far. In wake of the chaos from New Years Eve, Basil had been actively avoiding… well everyone that mattered in his life including (and most especially) Gus Lissington. He… he didn’t know where they stood anymore and frankly, he was too afraid to ask. Victoire… well, he wasn’t quite sure there either if the pit in the base of his stomach was any indication. And Anthony? By god, he hadn’t gone near his cousin (or his brother) since he’d woken up hungover from the amortentia and immediately stolen back to Hogwarts in the dead of mornings first light. He hadn’t even said goodbye to his mother, a feat that was telling in and of itself!

On this mid-afternoon in February, as he waltzed wearily from his classroom towards a new haunt on the grounds he’d made a home of, nose buried deep in a pile of essays he ought to grade soon, Basil paid hardly any mind to the ongoings in the Great Hall. He knew there was something afoot with the potions students but he wasn’t quite bothered to plug into what. It was for this reason he was startled to see a familiar face round the corner and nearly throw him for a loop. (If something in his chest fluttered nervously at the sight, that was nobody’s business at all!) “Agrimony Macnair?” Basil heard himself greet, incredulously. What the hell are you doing here? Nearly followed.

Instead, Basil felt the hint of a smile play across his face: a look that had not graced him in months now. Standing up just a bit taller than before, and trying not to think too hard about the last time he’d seen Macnair (or anything they might have gotten up to as children and made his cheeks pinken), he tucked the stack of essays under his arm and closed the small space between them, hand outstretched for a greeting. “What brings you to these hallowed halls?”

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Agrimony Macnair & muse song

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Fuck, this was a complete waste of his time. Why Agrimony thought that he might run into something amusing whilst judging this competition was beyond him. It looked like it was a waste of time and energy. Regardless, he was eager to get home and away from the mundanity of castle life. It was amusing for him when he was a student himself, but now the potions was rudimentary at best. No Slytherin had even made it in the NEWTS Potions competition either; if he cared more about the education he’d do something about it, but as it was, Agrimony was looking forward to leaving the castle as soon as he could.

And yet….after the competition, he stepped outside into the courtyard to smoke a cigarette, leaning against the cold stone of the pillars and take some time to reminisce. There was no around at least, to catch him indulging in a bit of nostalgia. Not that he was at all missing the school, but there was no doubting that times were more simple.

Speaking of which; the hairs on the back of his neck had suddenly stood up and he looked around. When he didn’t find anyone, he sighed, extinguishing his cigarette with a flick of his fingers before tucking it behind his ear. An explanation for the odd sensation came in the form of a familiar (but slightly different) voice once he rounded the corner. Caught lost in his own thoughts, Agrimony looked up, his eyes immediately finding the speaker. “Foxwood.” He supposed it was only a matter of time before he ran into his former….friend? Sure, why not.

“In the flesh.” He looked at Foxwood with some level of scrutiny. Though he could see glimpses of the nervous goody Ravenclaw that had followed him into the Forbidden Forest, Foxwood certainly seemed to carry himself with a lot more confidence now. Though Agrimony’s keen eye caught that he looked as if he’d lost some sleep in the past few days. After a pause: “Did you never leave?”

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   Basil Foxwood

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At the sound of that familiar voice ringing in his ears for the first time since… Basil didn’t even know when, the same shimmering feeling from before tweaked his gut. Agrimony bloody Macnair. Of all the loops fate could have tossed in his direction at this point in time, here was one Basil couldn’t have anticipated even with a divination globe. (Not that he was very good at it to begin with, nonsense magic.) He extended his hand to Macnair who accepted it, even as a dumb look crossed Basil’s face.

A flash of something seemed to skitter down the Transfiguration professor’s arm at the contact and Basil pulled back his hand quickly as if burnt. He knew better now after such a dreadfully enlightening last year what… all of this insinuated. He couldn’t tell if Macnair had any such lingering impressions, but the whole prospect of it it flustered him. Whatever they might have once had remained… unresolved and festering, deep in his gut. One sided surely, to make matters worse. He knew it was dangerous to be obvious about it but… Basil wasn’t sure he’d ever quite gotten over Macnair. Even now, desperately trying not to be so in love with Lissington, he wasn’t sure he ever would be. Confusing, terrible sentiments, the lot of them.

Basil brushed these thoughts aside in favor of focusing on the real, tangible man and moment before him. (One he was determined not to seem ridiculous in front of.) Tossing back a half-crooked grin at the other’s quip, he laughed. “That last detention from Thompson really stuck,” he teased. “I’ve spent hours cleaning chalkboards and tidying classrooms. What year is it again?”

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Agrimony Macnair & muse song

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Agrimony briefly turned his gaze skyward; whether in an eye-roll, or perplexity he would never know. With Foxwood, he always seemed on the verge of being a goody-two shoes, but only because he felt inclined towards it. Going back to Hogwarts after graduation seemed outrageously unsurprising, however at the same time Agrimony always thought he was going to do something else. Perhaps something more. Not that he thought much about Foxwood.

“I’m surprised you don’t have more chalk on your coat, in that case.” He commented, his eyes flicking back down to the cuffs of Foxwood’s sleeves. Realizing he hadn’t answered Foxwood’s previous question he gestured towards the Great Hall. “I was volunteered to judge the potions contest. I had the NEWTs students.”

Judging hadn’t been the worst in the world, but he’d hardly come across any student who he’d deem inspirational — the Hufflepuff girl seemed quite adept at the skill, but her family would likely commit her to the whims of society instead of allowing her to pursue something that would actually be useful to her. Unfortunate, but predictable. “It’s a Saturday, what are you doing still at the castle?”

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Basil couldn’t help the lopsided little smile that graced his features at Macnair’s responding quip. This was familiar territory. Even though he hadn’t seen the Slytherin in… lord knew how long, it still felt easy. Familiar. And Basil needed easy after the past few months he’d had. He studied Macnair’s face looking for some semblance of returned affection, even superficially, but was unsurprised to find none there. Agrimony had never been the particularly expressive type.

Nodding at the man’s response as to his reasons for being in the castle, Basil feigned interest. “Anyone promising stand out?” he ventured to ask. While potions and transfiguration were polar disciplines, he could imagine the students that showed promise in academia at large might stand out across a number of areas. Perhaps he would recognize a name from his own NEWT course.

As the former Slytherin asked after his ongoings, Basil felt a sheepishness overtake his features. He had been skipping most of his weekends free for favor of staying within the confines of this sanctuary. He couldn’t bear to risk seeing his family, or worse Victoire even in passing. But it wasn’t like Macnair knew any of that… As far as the other was concerned he had every reason for being here other than hiding from his social reality. Basil shrugged noncommittally. “I’ve some things to grade and a draft to review for my next submission to Transfiguration Today,” he replied, offhandedly. “And you? Any big plans for the remainder of your afternoon?” Inquisitive minds wanted to know.

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Agrimony Macnair & muse song

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Pondering the first question, Agrimony took his time to answer, pulling a drag on his cigarette and exhaling a cloud of smoke before shrugging. “A few, though I’ll be damned if I remember their names —” a beat —  “The winner was a Hufflepuff girl.” And that was all he really cared to say on the subject. Frankly he was more interested in finding out what Foxwood had been up to; though soon after he’d heard his answer, Agrimony smirked. Far be it from him - an inventor - to criticize someone for staying their course and persevering (from what he’d heard Foxwood was the Head of House, though for some reason Agrimony decided to let Foxwood bring that up), behind the polished robes and the fact that he’d grown taller, Agrimony could still see the Ravenclaw student who’d followed him into the Forbidden Forest, clutching his book as if his life depended upon it.

“What is this, your 600th time writing for them?” Agrimony briefly flickered through his memory to bring up the last two articles he’d read. “I’m surprised they haven’t made you chief editor yet.” Taking another puff, he looked down at the cigarette in his hand. A flame popped into existence on the end of it, growing slightly bigger as it started to consume the rest of it. Soon, Agrimony had a small flickering ball of fire cupped in his hand. “I figured I might go down to Hogsmeade to catch a bite to eat before I headed back to the shop.” He surveyed Basil over the flames in his hand.

Without warning, he gently lobbed the little fire towards the wizard. “Catch.”

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   Basil Foxwood

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Basil couldn’t help but watch as Macnair pulled the cigarette to his lips, took a drag, and then exhaled slowly. It stirred a memory in him, the way the other moved, one he hesitated to dwell upon. The former Ravenclaw quickly averted grey hues to keep from blushing; this was no time for such idle nonsense! He nodded instead, wondering which of the Hufflepuffs had won.

As Macnair teased him however, Basil felt some of his sheepishness fall away. He smirked in playful cockiness and tugged down his waistcoat showily. “Perhaps one day,” he vollied back. Then, not one to miss a detail, Basil turned a full-fledged grin onto his companion. “Have you been following my progress, Macnair? I’m flattered,” he teased. “I didn’t peg you for having a particular interest in Transfiguration.” The tease was empty, not much of anything behind it but bluster. Still, it was curious that Agrimony Macnair had enough time in his schedule to bother picking up a copy of Transfiguration Today, much less know that Basil himself was an avid contributor. Perhaps they’d been friends after all, this whole time, despite the distance.

The other put out his cigarette then and Basil nodded again as to his assertion for a bite in Hogsmeade. He was about to comment that he hoped Macnair had a good time and that they should catch up again soon when the other tossed a bloody flame ball at him! Unprepared, Basil caught it on instinct and hissed as the fire touched his palm. He dropped it almost immediately and it fizzled before it hit the ground. Grey hues turned back to Macnair, a frown pinched between his brows. “I see you’ve picked up no manners since I last saw you,” he grumbled reaching forward to flick Macnair playfully in the nose. Retribution, if he was quick enough.

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Agrimony Macnair & muse song

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“You’ll have to clear some of those papers on your desk before that happens, I imagine.” He returned, crossing his arms and surveying the man before him. Foxwood’s teasing saw something root in his chest and flutter uncomfortably, so he decided to focus on the nervous energy that Foxwood seemed to be exuding and he smirked. “And if you don’t know how far my interest in Transfiguration reaches, then you clearly haven’t been paying attention enough, have you?” He’d picked up the magazine from time to time; it was available at every news stand in magical London, and once he’d seen Foxwood’s name appear more than a few times as a feature, he’d deigned to pick it up and see if he had anything interesting to say.

Clearly he did, since they kept asking him back to guest write for them.

Watching as the fireball caught Foxwood unawares, Agrimony smirked again, chortling. Perhaps the man wasn’t as good at magic as he was writing about it. Not about to poke fun at him even further, Agrimony opened his mouth to respond when his eye caught Foxwood’s hand reaching towards him. A flicker of something shot through Agrimony, and before he knew it, his hand had come up to seize him by the wrist before Foxwood’s finger could make contact with his skin. His mouth pinched in a straight line, staring at him, his eyebrow raised.

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   Basil Foxwood

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Basil had to admit he was surprised Agrimony had an interest in Transfiguration. Or, perhaps it was moreso that he’d never noticed it before. Was he so distracted a friend person that he couldn’t see what was right under his nose? (These days it really seemed like it!) The brunette blushed a touch despite himself. Well, at least now he had someone else to bounce ideas off of. Macnair was brilliant, in his own chaotic way.

The little fireball incident that followed distracted Basil from his embarrassment, and by the end of it he was back to teasing as he attempted to flick the former Slytherin in the nose. He should have known he’d never get away with it though. Macnair was faster than a snake bite, catching his hand on its way into the blonde’s face, and Basil laughed. A surge of something warm and familiar bubbled in his chest at the icy look the other threw him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed Macnair over the years. Oddities and all.

Rather than shake him off as he should have, Basil continued his finger flick from this short distance away from Agrimony’s nose. He pulled a face when it fell short and then dropped his hand altogether. “One of these days I’ll teach you a real lesson,” he threatened playfully. An entirely empty threat, as far as Basil was concerned. He didn’t mind Macnair’s antics. He never really had.

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Agrimony Macnair & muse song

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It was with some surprise (though he shouldn’t have been, really) that Agrimony received the flick in the nose with a small start. There was no actual skin contact, and yet he’d reacted as if there was. His scowl deepened slightly, as he eyed Foxwood’s wiggling finger in front of him and contemplated how inappropriate it would be if he inched forward and bit him.

Thoroughly unsettled by that fleeing thought, he let Foxwood’s hand drop, letting his own hand fall to his side and stuff into his pocket. “I’m sure you will, Foxwood.” He returned, a ghost of a smile ticking up at the corner of his mouth. He fished out another cigarette before lighting it with a small flame at the tip of his finger. He inhaled once more, then let the smoke curl gradually from his lips. He didn’t doubt Foxwood’s threat, at least not truly.

One way or another that big brain of his was going to get the better of Agrimony, and he knew he’d likely not see it coming. Foxwood had a way of surprising him in the oddest ways. “You hungry?” He suddenly asked, releasing the rest of the smoke from his mouth.

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   Basil Foxwood

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Macnair’s small start stretched a broad grin across Basil’s face, so self-satisfied he almost looked smug. (Almost.) Basil half expected the former Slytherin to bite him or react more strongly, a thought that didn’t cross his mind with as much alarm as it likely should have. When Macnair didn’t, Basil lowered his hand and huffed a little laugh, light and almost tinkly like his baby cousin’s. (There wasn’t much Basil had in common with Poppy but their amused laugh, for how rare Basil bothered to share his, had the same distinctly honest, silver bell hint to it.) Macnair’s responding smile to his quip was well worth it though.

Basil hated how even still, all these years later, that fleeting look could make his brain catch as if stalled. He knew better now… unfortunately, what that meant, and distinctly shoved the thought aside. He had more than enough to contend with these days. There was no reason whatever to add poor Agrimony into the mix. Grey hues traced the whirl of smoke that the other breathed even still, and Basil had to force himself to look away.

Startled, almost, at the sudden question- Basil responded in the affirmative before he could think twice. (Because surely if he had, he would have realized he was not, in fact, hungry and had much to do this afternoon in the castle.) As it was, he gave a half-hearted little shrug instead and said “I could use a break,” as if breaks were something he did. “Have anything specific in mind?”

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Agrimony Macnair & muse song

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Agrimony’s brows ticked up in mild surprise. It was an impulse to invite him for a meal, but he hadn’t actually expected the man to say yes. The next question Agrimony had to answer was where in the world they would both go. Hogsmeade was…alright, and arguably the closest, but nothing there really seemed to suit his fancy. It then occurred to him that he didn’t entirely know what Basil’s food preferences were; and immediately after that thought crossed his mind, he wondered why in Merlin’s name it had. And even moreso, why he bloody cared. That just made him even more sour.

“Anywhere but Hogsmeade,” he said with a shrug as he stood up and stretched out a crick in his neck. “I’m sick of the Three Broomsticks.”

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Basil wasn’t sure what he’d expected Agrimony to say, still startled by his own willingness to go along in the first place, but the other’s nonchalant shrug seemed to settle something uneasy in the Ravenclaw’s mind. This had always been their way, hadn’t it? Macnair with some scheme and Basil just happy to be in his presence. The familiarity of it made him want to reminisce a bit longer.

“Sure,” Basil replied, switching his stack of papers to the other hand. “If you’re in no particular rush, I should likely drop these off.” He gestured vaguely to the essays in hand and made a noncommittal motion with his head for Macnair to follow him. “It’s been ages since I’ve been to London,” the brunette continued thoughtfully. “Do you have any favorite haunts there?” Basil wasn’t ready to admit the relief he’d felt at Macnair’s suggestion they avoid the Three Broomsticks. Too public. In fact— all of Hogsmeade was off limits at this stage with his hiding and such. So, London it was. The less magical, the better.

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Agrimony Macnair & muse song

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