This was one of the times he wished he could apparate on Hogwarts ground because Gus was hearing things he knew he shouldn’t be. Instead of going in one ear and out the other they embedded themself into his brain like a virus and swarmed his thoughts; his eyes were blown wide from revelations but instead of looking at Valenduris for confirmation or disgust, the Hufflepuff lowered his gaze toward the blades of grass grazing his shoes – he wondered just how hard he’d have to stomp for the ground to swallow him whole. Whether or not they had done anything wasn’t his business although from the venom they were spitting it was clear to the redhead that something had transpired. Gus swallowed the questions forming on his tongue – getting in the middle of that seemed like a daft idea. If Valenduris was willing to punch his friend (former friend?), he wasn’t willing to put himself in the crossfire to see what he’d do to him. Still, he most decidedly did not want to know all the secrets these two had, even though he’d already promised himself he’d take them to his grave.
It’s what any decent person would do, right?
The words flying between them, harsh and cruel, were meant to maim, and Gus took a slight step back toward the tree as he wanted nothing to do with it. (His day was much better when he was enjoying the sunshine on this strangely warm day and these two frost monsters were making it difficult to soak it up before winter wrapped him in cold and misery.) His eyes followed Iago as he unwrapped the scarf from his neck and Gus frowned at him as he watched the ball of fabric tossed to the ground as if it didn’t matter. A noise of discontent came from his throat, because he’d always think Iago was sweet (when he wanted to be at least, but the Slytherin had never shown him a side to say otherwise.)
The idea of Vince thinking he was anything else was heart shattering; he wasn’t a monster or a pet, or anything that deserved to be treated less than someone else. Gus wished that everyone else could see it, too. He was smart and hid the best jokes under a layer of snark that never failed to make him laugh. In fact if a genie granted Gus a single wish, he’d only need one: to force Vincent to stand in front of a mirror until he saw him the way the Hufflepuff did. Vincent Iago was nearly perfection wrapped in a person, and quite frankly there wasn’t a single thing he would change about him. (Minus the times where he had to leave, because Gus was a cuddler.) There wasn’t a moment he didn’t want to spend next to him and if Valenduris was daft enough to toss that away, well, he was a bigger asshole than Gus originally pegged him for.
He opened his mouth to say as such, only to watch as Valenduris surged forward and shattered Iago’s nose, worry etching across his face as the blood pooled from his nose and he knocked his head harshly against the tree. Gus turned toward the other kid then, not quite sure what he was going to say but Iago reacted faster than him to send the blonde tumbling away, flat on his back. He winced as his body collided with the ground with enough force that he was worried he’d cracked his head open. Still, Gus scurried forward to collect the scarf from the ground and wrapped it atop the Slytherin one he still wore.
Then he tossed a look over toward the Gryffindor. “Oh, Valenduris, I’m sorry. I’ll come back to make sure you’re not… dead? I promise.” But worry had poured into his chest and consumed him, leaving him with little else than wanting to make sure Iago was okay; the desire to wrap him up and shield him from the cruelty of the word was overwhelming, even if he knew Vince didn’t want it. He gave Valenduris a slight wave of goodbye even though he clearly didn’t see it and took off in a jog after the Slytherin.
Just to watch Professor Thompson come storming out of the castle toward Iago; he looked angry enough Gus swore that smoke was pooling from his ears. His lips were pressed together and he kept his eyes straight rather than point an accusatory stare at any of them, but all it took was a single look at the one with blood pooling from his face, the one that looked guilty, and the one on the ground further behind them to know the student who’d found him was correct that something was brewing outside. His feet paused on the ground as he appraised them before he huffed a sigh and pulled out of his wand.
“Your hands, Mr. Iago.” The professor stepped forward to cast episkey on his nose. Gus’ face twisted in sympathy as the bones in his nose mended – he hated it when the nurse used that spell on him. It always made his skin boiling hot then frigid, and well, he’d rather deal with a broken bone than feeling like he was going to freeze to death.
Professor Thompson cleared his throat.” Let me guess Mr. Lissington, wrong place, wrong time?” The Hufflepuff gave him a sheepish smile and shrugged because that had always been the case for him. “Mr. Iago, another fight?” It was posed as a question although it was meant more of a statement – the Slytherin always seemed to be getting into some kind of group. (Plus it was near impossible to not have heard the mandrake rumors floating around, and well, the herbology professor was looking to find reasons to give him more than just detention for the brutality of the crime.)
He shook his head as he motioned for the boys to follow him back to where Valenduris was. The professor stepped forward to evaluate him. “Unless someone wants to tell me what happened, detention for the three of you for the foreseeable future.” Of course they were all getting detention anyway, but the punishment had to fit the crime. Gus shot Iago a look with a frown; it wasn’t his story to tell and it wasn’t as if he wanted to start out by saying he was snogging him when everything went to thell.
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