“Finito incantatem! Ginny, you should
have given me some kind of warning!” Mrs. Weasley said as she pointed around
the room with her wand, trying to end all the charms and spells around their
living room. Her knitting needles fell back on the armchair, motionless, at the
same time several cups and plates returned to their places in the cupboard.
of warning could I have given you?” Ginny asked, as she grabbed the capes and
pointy hats in the hanger to put them away somewhere upstairs. “I just met him
you invite him, though?” Ron asked, coming down from the attic, where he had
been making sure the ghoul had enough things to entertain itself and be quiet
during the tea. “Is Dad’s love for muggles rubbing on you?”
“I was just
trying to be nice,” Ginny cringed, only know realizing the predicament she had
put her family at. “I didn’t really think he would accept!”
it’s great!” Mr. Weasley said, as he strategically hid all the moving
pictures behind books, vases and ornaments. “What did you say he did again?”
writer of some kind,” Ginny said, throwing the capes and the hats at Ron for
him to take upstairs. “I don’t know…”
Marvelous!” said Mr. Weasley, with his eyes glimmering. “If he’s a writer, he
must know how to explain and describe all sort of things.”
Arthur, you’re not interrogating the muggle,” Mrs. Weasley said, with her
cauldron in hand, looking around as she decided where to put it.
him the muggle,” Ginny said. “His
name is Harry, alright?”
muggle have black hair and wears glasses?” Ron asked from upstairs.
After a bad game, the Foxes had come to have routine. They’d gotten too cocky after beating the Ravens, so when they lost a game after that, it always hit them harder than it had before Neil’s arrival. Andrew had started closing the goal like he actually enjoyed playing the game, Kevin could play with both his hands now, the new players helped them out a lot, so why weren’t they winning?
Disappointed and tired, all they wanted to do was change out of their sweaty gear and go to sleep. Andrew’s arms felt overworked, Neil’s feet throbbing after he played a full game running back and forth. The showers anyone had were short and silent, with no post-game chatter as there usually was. Neil still hadn’t become comfortable changing with the others, and was last to leave the showers, sweatpants and an orange t-shirt sticking to his half-assed attempt at drying himself, alongside his black wristbands to cover his scars.
“It makes me wonder how I tolerate you when you step out of a shower like that.” Andrew was the only one remaining in the room, rubbing a towel through his hair, only looking up at Neil for a second as he walked towards his locker.
“Like what? Dressed?” He threw his dirty jersey and pants into the almost-full basket of to-be-washed clothes, putting his bandana and non-washable gear back into his locker.
“Half dried. It’s disgusting.”
“I’ll dry.” Neil leaned against the lockers and watched as Andrew towel dried his hair, only stopping to tell Neil to stop staring. When he was finished, he shoved the towel into his bag, to be cleaned back at the dorms, and shook his head like a dog before styling it with his fingers. He was wearing black sweatpants, tied with his usual wristbands and black Nike runners. It was then that Neil noticed what looked off about him, and it brought a smirk to his lips. “Are you wearing my shirt?”
Andrew looked down at the t-shirt and shrugged his shoulders. It wasn’t something any of the other foxes would notice, but Neil knew it was his because he’d had it before he came to PSU. It was a plain, short-sleeved black t-shirt, with the sleeves slightly rolled up, but the distinction between that and any other t-shirt, was the small white logo on the left breast. It wasn’t a brand, but was an embroidered signature of some old Exy player from when the league first began. He’d found it in a thrift store back when he stopped off in Ireland on his way to America, and it was nothing memorable, but he recognized it in a second.
“Don’t get too full of yourself, Josten, it was the first shirt I picked up. Your style is still atrocious.” He looked down at the embroidery before rolling his eyes again at Neil who was smiling over at him. “I will change if you keep looking at me like that.”
“Tell me you don’t like it.” Neil pushed himself up off the lockers, and Andrew joined him in the middle of the room.
“It’s the only bearable item of clothing you seem to own. Yes or no?” Neil mumbled out a yes through a cheeky smile, and was met with Andrew’s lips on his own for only a second before Neil pulled back and rested his forehead against Andrew’s.
“It’s a little big on you, though.” He was tired, and his blue eyes flickered as he searched through Andrew’s hazel ones up so close.
“Big means comfortable. You are not as tall as you think, you know that?” Andrew stopped the conversation there by kissing him again, and though Neil probably wouldn’t admit it, he kind of hoped Andrew would “accidentally” wear his clothes more often.