April 15, 1892 -DADA Office

It had been a full day so far, even if he had risen early to get a jump start on it. One filled with lessons and grading and teaching, and now on top of them, open office hours where students tended to drop by to beg him to teach them “the good stuff.” Whatever that meant. All the spells he taught he would consider “the good stuff.” Gus was getting better at smiling at them and turning down their requests - he certainly wasn’t going to wind up in Headmaster Black’s office explaining why the students were running around casting curses they had no business knowing.

He had been surprised when one of those students had been Miss Dashwood; a seventh year, Gus wouldn’t have been dumbfounded if she had dropped the class after her OWLs and suspected she had continued on because her friends had. It was a common thread he’d seen, and even he would be lying if he were to say he hadn’t done the same thing. Transfiguration still confused him and he avoided using it at all cost, which seemed to bode well for him so far. (Plus now he had Basil to do that for him, knowing that he could offer the other a confused smile that would probably entice him enough to help him.) Gus wouldn’t have passed NEWT Transfiguration with Basil’s help, and he could only hope one of her friends was kind enough to tutor her.

The grading seemed to be never ending, as if someone had enchanted his desk to restack parchment after parchment each night, so when Ms. Dashwood had appeared at his door asking to be tutored, Gus had been happy to oblige. A memory spell meant to wipe away recent negative feelings, memories, or occurrences, although the young professor had had the NEWT students read about it, unkeen of the idea of them practicing it on each other. It appeared the young lady was interested in performing it, although a few others had come to him earlier in the day. (It did help, he had offered some extra credit for anyone who came to him with such a request, and maybe some house points if anyone could successfully hit him. Students:0, Gus: 2.)

Memory spells were tricky and difficult to fix, but Gus wasn’t afraid of any student being powerful enough to shatter his protection charm. Miss Dashwood had proved his thought process correctly. Gus threw a quick look at the open door behind him to ensure no one else was waiting before he turned back to her with a wide grin across his face. “Try it again, Ms. Dashwood. You need to use your whole hand when you make the spiral and not just your wrist.” He fixed the young woman across from him with a patient gaze, waiting to see how she would respond. His own wand was in his hand, at ready. He didn’t need it, not for these kind defensive spells at least, but there was something comforting to him about having it in his hand.

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Poppy Dashwood

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Poppy didn’t like asking for help. In fact, often she was too proud to admit she even needed it. Stubborn, and determined to do things all on her own, the Ravenclaw was hard pressed to find something she was poor at. Defense Against the Art Arts however seemed to give her a run for her money. It wasn’t the theory, really, that she didn’t understand. The academic part of it she quite excelled at, it was the practical. Poppy excelled in potions and charms, practically. (Particularly potions.) Defensive spells, especially those of a higher difficulty where just so aggressive and she had a hard time putting her emotions behind them enough to actually mean to do damage. (Perhaps that was why June was so gifted… Poppy hummed in her amusement at this thought.) That said, she had continued with the subject because - even though society might not dictate it important for young ladies to know how to perform advanced magic - Poppy wanted to be the most prepared she could be upon graduation.

Being a debutante was not her dream. In fact, Poppy wasn’t sure she’d enjoy it at all frankly. But she knew she would try, and she knew she’d excel at it because she had to. Her family had suffered enough scandal at her step-brother’s hands and she was the next in line, the rightful sibling, to inherit the remediation of such damage. And she’d done a splendid job so far, at least in the public eye. (Privately, well…) But, being in that public eye was daunting, especially given Poppy’s inherent hellionist tendencies. A shiver ran up and down her spine at the thought and Poppy felt her skin crawl. It was something she was going to have to find a way to set aside sooner or later. She had to, for her family and for her own sake. But extending her tenure at Hogwarts had provided her a small respite from coming to terms with that. It was why she had opted to continue, and why she had shown up today with determination to the DADA office hours. She had to master this subject if it in any way could afford her future protections, assuming she ever needed. Poppy was determined to live her life the way she was expected to; she would do anything to achieve such an aim. But it was always best to be prepared. Besides, Professor Lissington had offered a few extra bonus points to any student who could best him at the spell and Poppy never backed down from a challenge.

Holding her wand firmly in hand, the brunette wiggled her fingers as she prepared to go again. Her teeth were clenched in frustration and she forced herself to take a deep breath. Then, with a little more gumption than the last time, and remembering to actually move her whole hand - not just her wrist - she cast the spell directly at Professor Lissintgon. “Exmemoriam!” A shot of little little gold sparks erupted from her wand in tandem with the spell and Poppy hesitated at the last second, (was that supposed to happen?!) moving her wand tip just slightly.

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Gus Lissington & maybe this is more accurate?

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© Fox

Gus watched the young woman in front of him expectantly; he watched her face twist into frustration before she calmed herself down, and watched as she took his instruction in stride to shoot the spell directly at him. In hindsight it probably wasn’t the best idea but it was the easiest way for him to look at their form, incantation as well as how the spell looked when it shot from the wand. It helped too that this particular memory charm was temporary, lasting only as long as the amount of emotion they’d put into it. People tended to be shocked at how well he was at curses and hexes given his disposition, although he would argue that while the spells were considered dark arts they didn’t need negative emotions behind them to be successful. Any emotion was enough to properly cast the spells. (Other times he’d grin and say it was the only way he knew how to expel his negative emotions.)

Gold sparks shot out of the wand which made the young professor squint. That wasn’t right. Gus flicked his wand to cast Protego, and an invisible wall flickering in front of him. While a very effective spell, the problem tended to be sometimes it was [i]too[i] effective when it came to simpler hexes, and rather than absorbing them it reflected them. It didn’t help that he flicked his own wand upward to dispel the shield, not realizing that his spell hadn’t absorbed hers but rather ricocheted it toward the ceiling; it wasn’t until he saw the gold sparks from the corner of his eye that he cast Protego once more, but rather than sending the spell straight back to Miss Dashwood Gus reflected it out the door and into the hallway.

His luck of course had never been anything grand and he could hear the spell take hold of someone, which made him wince. Memory charms were hard to reverse and he wasn’t sure how much damage the incorrect spell would do to a person. His eyes wide, he watched the Ravenclaw in front of him before he offered her a slight smile and nod of the head. “Please stay here for a moment.” And without a response Gus stepped out the door toward the individual halfway slumped to the floor.

Professor Foxwood, naturally. Gus knelt down in front of him, relieved to see he was still breathing, before he cursed quietly under his breath. “Ms. Dashwood,” He called from the hallway, “Thank you for coming, but I’m afraid I’ll have to cut the lesson short. He’ll be fine, I promise. Very well done.” A lie, a truth, he didn’t quite know, but he wasn’t going to start panicking with her still nearby.

Students: 1, Gus: 2, Basil: 0

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Poppy Dashwood

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Poppy watched as her spell was deflected and ricocheted around the room. It bounced back at Professor Lissington and she brought a hand to her mouth in alarm. “Oh dear!” She exclaimed, also wincing as it bounced out into the hallway. She tittered a little bit, frantic as Professor Lissington excused himself from the room.

Well, she had really done a number with this one. That spell had some emotion behind it, which was unusual for the Ravenclaw. Poppy was usually calm and collected, especially while performing in front of her professors, but this time she’d been so focused on getting it right that she might have overdone it a touch. As his voice floated back into the classroom, Poppy took it as an invitation to investigate and rushed out into the hallway. When she saw her cousin slumped there, a bit awkwardly on the floor, Poppy gasped.

“Basil!” She exclaimed, dropping to his side and practically tossing her wand aside. “Ohhh, Professor I’m so terribly sorry!” She continued, unsure of who she was exactly assessing. Then, forgetting entirely that Basil was her superior and not just her family, Poppy touched his face gently and held it. He looked pale, but at least his cheek was not too warm and he was coming to. Poppy retracted her hand in relief and turned to her left. The look on Professor Lissington’s face was enough to make her blush in embarrassment again, and she quickly folded her hands together. How wretchedly she had botched this one!

“Does he need to go to the hospital wing?” She asked, earnestly. Beside them, Basil blinked a little bit and Poppy eyed him nervously as she collected her wand and stood. She could go, right now and fetch the nurse! Just say the word…

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Gus Lissington & maybe this is more accurate?

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© Fox

Ms. Dashwood rushed out into the hallway and knelt before Basil before he could utter a single word. If it were appropriate he would have placed his hand against her back in solace, but instead Gus shifted to awkwardly wrap an arm around Basil in case he needed help standing. “Ms. Dashwood,” Gus tried again as he flicked his gaze toward her, “mistakes happen and I promise you, if anyone will take the blame it will be me. I know it’s hard not to fret, but your cousin is resilient and will come out of this unscathed.” Or so he hoped. At least the other professor seemed to be coming to, as he started to blink. It was enough to make the young woman stand.

“Thank you, but the nurse will be unnecessary.” Blue hues shifted from the woman to Basil, where he smiled almost fondly. He shifted to cup his hand around his cheek but thought better of it, choosing instead to brush hair back from his face, where at least examined his head for any outward burns or cuts, thankful he found none. He’d gotten a haircut recently, he noted, although the information wouldn’t do him good. Gus tore his gaze from Basil as he turned his attention back toward her. “I’ve got it from here. Good job again, Ms. Dashwood.” Gus offered her a smile before he chuckled quietly. “I’ll be sure to send him your way once he’s back on his feet.”

Soon, he hoped. Turning his attention back toward Basil, Gus dropped his hand back to his side. “Hey there Basil,” he cooed softly, “You feeling okay?” It’s temporary, he reminded himself. How much could Ms. Dashwood truly botched up a spell?

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Poppy Dashwood, Basil Foxwood

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Basil was on his way to the owlery. After learning of his brother’s rather ridiculous predicament, he’d decided to spend the evening doing some research into the transfiguration properties of hair and color. (Not a subject he ever thought he’d need to investigate, mind you.) He knew it would be a few days until he could see Atticus and properly fix the situation himself, so - after a good laugh - Basil had decided to take pity on his sibling and write out a few potential solutions his research that evening had bore.

He was just passing the Defense Against the Art Darks classroom, with some chagrin and hoping to slip by undetected, when something came bursting out of the room. Basil barely had time to register that it was a spell before it hit him square in the face, allowing no room for him to duck. Astounded, quite literally, the man felt himself trip back into the wall and slide down a touch before everything blurred out of focus.

* * *

Some indeterminate amount of time later, Basil could hear voices in the oblivion above his head. He recognized one of the two, but not the other. The one he didn’t recognize was female, and seemed to be asking something about a nurse? Basil’s eyes blinked open at a soft touch on his cheek, but his vision and mind were blurry. He didn’t recognize the form that came into view, or really forms plural, but one of them was at least more familiar than the other.

“What happened?” He asked groggily. Then, feeling rather rude, but concerned nonetheless that something had - indeed -  happened, Basil turned his attention to the girl. “Who are you?” He asked her. She had brown hair and Ravenclaw robes, so she must have been in his house but Basil could not place her for the life of him. Dashwood?

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Gus Lissington

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Poppy eyed her cousin with all the concern and remorse in the world. She heard Professor Lissington address her, and she tried to believe him. Would Basil, in fact, come out of this unscathed? She certainly hoped so! He shifted then, looking around blearily and she almost dropped back to his side to hold his hand. Yes, they were not so terribly close even as cousins. Yes, she was in fact much, much closer with his brother Atticus. But at the end of the day, Basil was still family and Poppy could feel the guilt begin to stir in her gut. Then, he spoke and something inside of her seemed to melt away.

Who are you?

Water clouded her eyes as Poppy looked down into the familiar face. Oh Merlin, she’d erased herself from his mind! Who knew what else she’d catapulted out of there! Poppy clenched her small fist by her side. She forced herself to nod at Professor Lissington and remove herself from the situation. She would only get in the way, and this was her fault after all. With one last, miserable glance back over her shoulder, Poppy made her way down the hall. She hoped she didn’t run into anyone she knew. All she wanted was to cry into her pillow.

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Gus Lissington

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© Fox

Inwardly Gus winced as Basil turned toward Ms. Dashwood to ask who she was; as upsetting as it was he wasn’t surprised - she was casting a memory charm that negated negative thoughts, so perhaps the family had a fight recently that his mind had forced him to forget about. Still, it wasn’t good that he was asking who his cousin was, as Basil should have some happy memories of her. Hopefully his reassurance that he’d be fine would be enough for Ms. Dashwood to not blame herself for the predicament that Gus had placed them in - he’d owl her later, as before he could open his mouth to say something again she was already halfway down the hallway.

Instead Gus turned his attention back toward Basil; he worried his bottom lip with his teeth. He wanted to cup his face in his hands and tell him everything was going to be alright but this hallway was pretty well traveled - Gus had learned his lesson and didn’t want to be caught in a situation that he couldn't easily talk his way out of. He finally found his voice as he brushed his hair back from his head again. “It was Ms. Dashwood’s spell but my reflection of it. I… how are you feeling?” Did he remember Gus? Hopefully it wasn’t full amnesia, although that might be better for both of them.

“Let’s go into the classroom, Professor Foxwood. I need to take a look at your head.” Standing, Gus offered his hand for him to take. He could better assess what the damage was without being stuck in the hallway, although he wasn't sure what he could actually do. Hogwarts had eyes and ears everywhere, after all.

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Basil Foxwood

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Basil blinked again, wearily. His head was positively pounding but he wasn’t sure if that young lady was going to be alright. He looked after her, half wondering if he should say something else. It wasn’t polite, after all, to make a young woman look like that. His father would be annoyed, and mama? Well, he didn’t even want to think about that. Basil raised a hand to his forehead and the very action of it made him groan in pain. Well, this was certainly uncomfortable.

Beside him, that familiar voice chittered on about a spell and finally, Basil focused his attention on the man. Red hair and bright blue eyes looked at him with concern and Basil scrunched his brow. “Lissing?” He demanded. “Is that really you, behind all those wrinkles?” A bubbly laugh, lighter than was usual for Basil these days, stuttered up from the man’s throat. He sat up on his own and ran a hand through his neatly placed hair, mussing it like he used to.

“I feel quite fine,” he replied. “A little wobbly in the head, but not any more or less than usual.” Then, throwing Lissington a lopsided, easy smile, Basil leaned forward conspiratoriously. “I know it must be some mistake, but I do rather like this version of you.” Grey eyes raked up and down the older, unfamiliar version of Gus Lissington standing before him. “Handsome, mature. Refined, in all the best ways.” Basil laughed again, and accepted the man’s hand.

“My head is fine,” he insisted, ignoring Lissing’s tease of the term ‘Professor Foxwood.’ It must have been his own spell that backfired, however odd that seemed. Even if he couldn’t remember just what they’d been doing prior, he was sure whatever this little mixup was that had changed Gus into an old man and taken him for a spin would wear off soon enough. Though, Basil hoped sooner rather than later. He did suddenly remember the Transfiguration essay for Professor Bart still waiting back in the common room for him…

Following the other into the empty Defense Against the Dark Arts office, Basil frowned a little. “Mmm, I don’t know if we should be in here, Gus.” He said, quietly. Reaching for the other’s hand, he gave it a small tug. “It’s one thing to go sneaking around the trophy room, but quite another to get caught in Professor —’s office.”

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Gus Lissington

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Gus blinked. He wasn’t normally someone who was at a loss for words, finding he had more words to say when he was nervous, but seeing Basil acting like that was not something he had expected in a thousand lifetimes. The other reassured him he was fine before he was grinning and commenting on how old Gus looked - he moved to correct him, twenty eight was not old and he certainly wasn’t wrinkly, but by the time he found the words to reply Basil had moved on to talk to more talk about himself. His face flushed at the statement. “Ah, uh. Thanks? I think you’re pretty cute too.” He mumbled in response, his ears starting to burn. He nervously rubbed the back of his hand. What in the world…?

Then he took his hand and Gus sucked in a deep breath. He forgot how much he missed this. Holding Basil’s hand had always been his favorite and he’d follow the man anywhere he asked as long as he could continue to do so. He kept insisting he was fine but something in his gut told Gus he wasn’t. He didn’t respond to him, instead forcing out an awkward laugh. Giving his hand a slight squeeze, the professor merely tossed him a lopsided grin as he pulled him into his office, where he shut and locked the door behind them. It was becoming a regular occurrence whenever Basil entered the room and he was thankful that there weren’t any portraits nearby to keep a closer watch on the door.

The trophy room? They hadn’t snuck around in any capacity in a decade and even then they’d been careful of where they’d gone. Well, more like Basil had been careful while Gus tried to tempt him into a make out session in any nook and cranny he possibly could. It wasn't his fault the Foxwood boy was a good kisser! The memory made him laugh quietly and he shrugged. “Good thing it’s my office then. Professor Lissington. Don’t you remember?” Gus finally breathed out as he flicked his gaze to look at him.

Leaning against the desk, Gus watched Basil for a moment. Something was definitely wrong with him although he couldn’t pinpoint what. Had he lost his memories? Had he forgotten all the negative memories he had of Gus and the next happiest one he had was from ten years ago? He frowned and flicked his wand to ensure the windows were covered as well, just in case. He didn’t trust this version of Basil.

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Basil Foxwood

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   Basil Foxwood

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If Basil found it a little odd that Gus blushed at his compliment, he didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he laughed quietly at how shy Lissing was being. He wasn’t used to that from the red head, but he supposed it might be a side-effect of feeling uncomfortable in a different body. Basil knew if he’d accidentally charmed himself into looking like an older version and someone came onto him - he would be slightly self-conscious too.

Basil knew he wasn’t the most handsome seventeen year old out there. He was awkward, gangly, and his hair was always just a bit mussed enough to be disheveled. In light of all these things, he had an open enough looking face, he’d been told. Trustworthy, for whatever that meant? But Gus on the other hand… well, Augustus Lissington was certainly something to look at. He was athletically built and had all the right lines, especially in this new form. Basil couldn’t help himself as he grinned a little stupidly. If this was what he had to look forward to when Gus grew up, well… that was a very nice thought.

Basil frowned a little then as Gus locked the door to the office and drew the blinds. He raised an eyebrow, skeptically, and eyed the Hufflepuff. “Gus, I’m serious,” he warned. Then, laughing at the other’s claim that this was his office, he stepped closer. “This is not the time to play professor!” He hissed, even as he wrapped his arms around Gus’s torso.

It was so natural, this feeling of closeness between them. So comfortable. Basil couldn’t help sneaking in just close enough to give the other a peck on his be-freckled nose as the somewhat familiar scent of him registered. Gus Lissington smelled like sweat, cedar wood and something just spicy enough Basil couldn’t put his finger on it. He also had a distinguished, ruffled look about him that was new with this older facade. Grinning, the Ravenclaw leaned in closer again. “Though you do look like one,” he said, just close enough to ghost over the other’s lips.

“How about, I transfigure you into a mouse and we go find our spot before someone finds us in here?” He whispered, teasingly. “This new form of yours is definitely going to attract attention around the school and I need some time alone with it before I, Professor Foxwood, deem it acceptable.”

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Gus Lissington

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“You’re always serious Basil,” Gus mumbled quietly, although then his eyes shot open at a couple things. First and foremost Basil hadn’t called him Gus in over a decade. If a smile broke out across his lips because he loved hearing his name come from his lips well, that was no one’s business but his own. Second, he hadn't been this playful since they’d been in Hogwarts, and while he adored the man with every fiber of his being, it was nice to see him let loose. To see him actually happy instead of that strange line that had been dancing for months. But he didn’t - couldn’t - expect him to stay like that and it was unfair for Gus to expect it. “I’m not pretending! You’ve been here for yea-” He protested again, although made no move to push Basil off as he wrapped his arms around him.

For what it was worth he missed hugging him. Hell, he missed hugging everyone. Gus had always been a touchy person, flinging his arms around everyone and anyone who would allow it, although he’d gotten better at controlling it as he’d gotten older. It became weird after a certain age. A chaste kiss was pressed against his nose and he leaned away from Basil and held his breath. This wasn’t fair. He knew he was still in love with Basil Foxwood and he’d give anything for this to be real, but it wasn’t. Then his lips were close to his and it took everything in him to not bend down and kiss him stupid. He had to remind himself this wasn’t his Basil, not here and now, even if mentally he seemed to be.

Even if he’d give everything past, present and future to hold Basil in his arms one more time.

Then another sentence came out of his mouth and Gus found himself blushing again. He uncurled Basil’s arms from his waist and sidestepped around the desk to put some distance between them. “I.. ah. Basil. This isn’t funny anymore. We haven’t done this in years. You… you were hit in the head with a spell, Foxwood. And I don’t know how to fix you. Not that anything is wrong with you! You’re perfect and I still lov-” Gus shook his head. His expression softened. “You’re perfect, Basil Foxwood.”

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Basil Foxwood

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Basil frowned pointedly as Gus disentangled them and sidestepped around the desk. It was glaringly obvious Gus was trying to get away from him, and he didn’t like the feeling prickling in the pit of stomach at the thought. Basil didn’t know what his life looked like without Gus Lissington. It was so strange how, in a little less than a year, the other had become such a massively huge part of his life. Even the thought of that changing, in any way, scared Basil enough that he took a sobering step back and tried to piece together what Gus was saying.

“I’m not trying to be funny,” he said quietly. “And I’m not the one who’s been hit with a spell, Gus! You look like you’re at least thirty in that body!” He frowned a little. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable; I won’t try and kiss you anymore until you’re back to normal. That…” he scratched the back of his head, awkwardly, blushing. “That probably wasn’t fair of me.” He looked back up into perfectly blue eyes and stepped closer again, this time resting just a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“I think you’re perfect too, even like this,” he said gently, offering the other a small smile. He squeezed Gus’s shoulder encouragingly.

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Gus Lissington

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At least thirty? He still had a year and some change before he hit his thirties and Basil was telling him he looked at least thirty? Gus frowned as he glanced down at himself. He’d wager he was a lot fitter than most people their age given his former profession and he certainly didn't feel like thirty, let alone look that old! “I’m not bloody thirty,” Gus grumbled under his breath, although the other’s movement caught his gaze as he scratched the back of his head. It was endearing.

“No, you didn’t make me uncomfortable. God, Basil. I’m bloody crazy about you. I’d kiss you stupid every day if you let me, and there’s nothing more that I want in life than to spend it with you. Even if society says I’m not allowed to, I still want it.” Gus said, reaching out to cup his hands against Basil’s cheeks. And he would want it for the rest of his life - a stupid, unattainable want. He knew not to say he was in love - that was a lesson he’d learned the hard way and the words still stung. What do you mean you love me? It’s not biologically possible!

Gus leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together with a smile against his lips as the other returned the sentiment of being perfect. If only he knew he wasn’t. He’d made a mistake that had shattered this version of Basil. This moment wouldn’t last but it didn’t mean he could soak it in, right? What harm would it do to pretend for just a moment that things had gone entirely right rather than entirely wrong.

"You really think I look thirty?" Gus mumbled, although his was grin was wide

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Basil Foxwood

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Basil laughed as Gus grumbled about the age. He supposed thirty was a bit of a stretch. He hadn’t really thought through the statement much as he’d blurted it out, more of a spur of the moment kind of thing? If he actually sat back and looked at him, Gus was probably somewhere in his late twenties. Or mid. He looked awfully young for having so many smile lines and freckles though compared to what Basil was used to now. Perhaps it was the youthful spirit he’d never quite loose.

“Either way,” he grinned. “You’re still the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.”

As the other reached for his face, Basil instinctively brought his hands up to rest on Gus’. He smiled then, sadly, maybe even a little wistfully. They’d never really talked about the future much, and yes… it was probably a little bit weird to do so here and now? But he supposed it was natural considering they were literally being confronted with it, visually. “I’m glad,” was all he managed to say, choking back any stray emotions that could ruin this sweet moment. He ought to have clarified. He ought to have said more. But deep down, somewhere Basil wasn’t sure was familiar to him anymore, he felt Gus’ words resonate. He’d have to save them and unpack it at a later date.

Gus pressed their foreheads together then and Basil grinned, a small laugh bubbling up from him as the other mentioned age again. “Alright already!” He exclaimed. “You’re not thirty, you’re a blushing seventeen just like me!” Then, with the laugh still on his lips, Basil threw his former promise out the window and leaned in to kiss Gus. His Gus.

The moment was as unremarkable as any non-first kiss could be, and as satisfying. There was no magic broken, no memory returned suddenly from the action. Instead, Basil felt a warmth pool in his belly and work its way down as he pressed needily into his redhead. He adored everything about kissing Gus; from the way it filled him with understanding, to the feeling of… well… whatever it was, love? no. growing inside of him. He tugged Gus impossibly closer, and hummed contently into the kiss breaking it only to laugh as he remembered they were still in Professor —’s bloody office!

“Gus,” he breathed out, a little raspily. “We have to get out of here before we’re found! I can’t loose Ravenclaw any house points this close to the cup!”

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Gus Lissington

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The fact that Basil thought he was handsome made him grin - even if they weren’t together, it was still nice to have reassurance that Basil wasn’t completely repulsed by him. (It didn’t matter if he wasn’t in the right mind or that it was seventeen year old Basil confirming to him that his boyfriend was cute.) Then he felt the warmth of the other’s hands against his own and Gus sighed softly. He missed this and he was going to miss this when the Ravenclaw finally got his thoughts put back together. Gus didn’t want to keep him like this forever.

Basil answered quietly and Gus could only manage a sad smile, saying nothing more of the matter. If only he knew he wasn’t glad. It still felt good to get the words off his chest and into the open, although he wondered if Basil would pack this entire encounter away in a dark box he never revisited. Part of him hoped so. He’d said a lot of stuff he’d been considering saying for a while, but not even in his wildest dreams was he actually crazy enough to speak them aloud.

Then Basil was laughing and Gus was grinning, although before he could say anything Basil was kissing him. It was chaste and sweet and just like he remembered; Basil still tasted like tea leaves and pumpkin. It was hard to deny it and even if Basil wasn’t aware of what he was doing a decade too late, it wasn’t as if they’d never kissed before. So Gus wrapped his arms around his neck and allowed himself to be tugged closer, and things just clicked into place. His heart hummed happily. This was where he was meant to be in life, right here, next to Basil, even if life and society would never allow it. Love was so fickle and so cruel but love could also be kind and never ending if one looked in all the right places. 

It was over much too quickly and Gus could only chuckle as he took a small step back from him. “You’re in last place anyway,” he responded with a slight grin as he reached out to take his hand. All or nothing, right? “You want to see my room?” A loaded question - of course he would. Then he could lock him away and figure out how to fix him without others raising an eyebrow at how odd he was acting.

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Basil Foxwood

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