Chapter Text
*******
Draco Malfoy read down his list of Potions grade averages for the month of January. He blinked three times, double checked the numbers, double checked the date, and triple checked the names.
It was undeniable: Thorin Durin’s grades were falling. For a long minute, he wondered why. He thought about what could have changed for the boy in such a short amount of time.
The answer felt like a slap in the face. He must have made a grave mistake by contacting Thror.
He noticed that Bilbo Baggins’ grades had decreased slightly as well, but nothing like Thorin Durin’s. The pair had gone from the top of the class to the middle; for Thorin, however, it was the bottom of the middle.
Draco felt wholly responsible and horribly guilty, but what else could he have done?
He had been so worried about Baggins being a bad influence that he hadn’t stopped to consider the consequences of contacting Thror. Draco had just assumed that Thorin’s good grades would continue. But that did not seem to be the case.
From what he had seen in class, Thorin just… didn’t care anymore. He barely paid attention and didn’t take notes. He didn’t do much of anything besides make his potions with Baggins and pour over unrelated books, occasionally writing something on spare parchment.
Draco quickly opened his bottom desk drawer and pulled out his grade book for Alchemy. He flipped it open to the current month and looked through Durin’s scores. Many zeros for homework and half grades for classwork stared back at him. His Alchemy scores were abysmal, especially his tests. Clearly, he wasn’t learning the material.
Draco had passed by the Alchemy class’s studying spot in the library a few times, but Thorin Durin had been nowhere to be found. Oddly, neither had Baggins. Draco had a sneaking suspicion that the reason everyone’s alchemy grades were slipping was because Baggins tended to lead those little study groups
Draco rubbed his face and put away the evidence of his mistake. There was no way to fix it now. He would just have to hope that Thorin Durin began caring about his grades again soon, or else the boy would have to face the wrath of Thror come summer.
*******
Thorin paced three times by the entrance to the Room of Requirement, thinking very hard about needing a safe place to practice magic. When he finished the third round, a door appeared. He was nervous to find out what lay within.
The Room of Requirement was a room of mirrors when Thorin entered it. The walls were completely covered in them, tarnished here and there as though they had seen spellfire before. Multiple dummies with targets on them, a way to help students pinpoint their aim, were set up around the room. A few of them were on tracks that he assumed meant they could move.
He wondered if this was the room that Dumbledore’s Army had practiced in years ago. He felt overwhelmed with the enormity of what he was doing when he realized that it probably was.
He examined the mirrors as he waited for the others to arrive. He threw a few non-lethal spells at them, testing their resilience. They absorbed the impact, leaving tarnished mirror in their wake. Satisfied, he walked over to the standing mirror in the corner that was separate from the walls. In the corner of the mirror was a small, moving photograph of a young man in Hufflepuff colors. Thorin realized that he was looking at someone from his textbooks: Triwizard Tournament participant Cedric Diggory, whose death had signaled the renewal of the Second Wizarding War.
This really was where Dumbledore’s Army had practiced. The realization gave him a rush, and he looked around the room in awe. He was standing where Harry Potter himself once stood. Hermione Granger. Ron Weasely. Ginny Potter. Luna Lovegood. Neville Longbottom. All people who had found their way into history. There had been a complete list of the DA in one of his textbooks, but he hadn’t memorized it. He felt honored to teach where his hero once taught, and for a similar reason. The Third Wizarding War was coming.
He was shaken out of his reverie by his friends arriving. They came to stand in a semi circle around Thorin, all looking around at the room in surprise.
Thorin began to speak when half of them looked at him. Bilbo gave him an encouraging nod.
“This is where the DA practiced,” he said with a smile. “There’s a picture of Cedric Diggory in that mirror.”
The others rushed to see it. They chattered excitedly amongst themselves. Thorin hung back and thought about which curse would be best to teach first. Once the others were done, they turned to him, and he began to speak.
“You already know some offensive spells, like reducto. I will be honest with you: what I am about to teach you is considered dark magic. Aurors learn many of the same spells, but they are allowed to because of their positions. Some of these are NEWT level and above, by Hogwarts standards. I will not be teaching blood magic.”
“Why not?” Nori asked, curious. “If it’s useful…” he trailed off. Bofur nodded his head in agreement.
Ori shook her head at her brother. “Blood magic is the most dangerous sort of magic. It’s easy for it to backfire, and it takes a lot of power to complete. And, well, blood.”
Dwalin nodded, confirming what his girlfriend had said. “It’s true. We only learned a little bit, and most of that was theory. Thorin learned a lot on his own.” He turned to Thorin. “Didn’t you nick some of the books from Durmstrang’s library?”
Thorin gave him a small grin. “You know I did. Fuck them.”
Nori gave him a thumbs up. “Fuck the system! I like it!”
Bilbo and Ori shared an amused look at Nori’s enthusiasm, but didn’t say anything.
Thorin continued. “The first thing I’m going to teach is a killing spell, known as the Chest-Crushing Curse. It will cave in the chest of your opponent, suffocating them and shattering the ribs so they can’t use any magic - unless it’s wordless and very quick, but that’s highly unlikely.”
Bofur whistled lowly. “Getting right to the point then, mate?”
Thorin regarded him seriously. “There’s a price on Bilbo’s head. That means that trained killers will be after him. They will not spare anyone that they consider in their way. Also, going by what happened at Hogsmeade, the third war is about to begin. We have to be ready.”
Bofur nodded. The room grew somber as everyone realized how serious things had become.
Thorin then walked across from the practice dummy nearest them and raised his wand to it.
“Inverte verani ares!” He said with heart, drawing a white star in the air with his wand tip before shoving it forward toward his target. The white star then flew into the dummy, sending it reeling backwards and cracking its chest, but it did not move from its position.
He then turned back to his friends. “The wand movement should be a perfect star, if possible. The better the star, the stronger the curse.”
“Bloody hell. Never thought I’d see the day I learned curses,” Bofur admitted. “That looks nasty.”
“It is,” Dwalin answered. “Saved our lives, though.”
Thorin thought back to saving Professor Tonks during the Battle of Hogsmeade, but didn’t say anything about it.
“Take your positions around the room. For safety’s sake, put at least one dummy between you and the next person. Dwalin and I will help you with your wand movements and pronunciations as needed.”
Everyone nodded, and the practice began.
*******
When he wasn’t teaching his friends offensive magic, Thorin spent most of his time silversmithing.
He had brought plenty of supplies with him to Hogwarts, along with all of his tools. They used so much space that they took up over half of his magically expanded trunk. It was worth it, though.
When he had initially come to Hogwarts, he had chosen a long forgotten classroom deep in the dungeous for his work. It was in that secluded room where he found some sense of peace, now that so much had seemed to go to shit. Bilbo often accompanied him, sitting in an armchair they had confiscated with a textbook, or simply watching Thorin work.
Ring after ring he made, finding solace in the repetitive motions and heated metals. He loved that the only mask he was required to wear was one to protect his face, and not an actual expression. He also made some necklaces, though he wasn’t quite as good at chain making as he would have preferred. Still, he made them, along with twisted pendants and wire wrapped semi-precious stones that were polished to perfection. He spent hours laboring protective charms on every piece, knowing that these charms could be the difference between life and death for his boyfriend and friends.
He enjoyed the solitude, but even more so the quiet companionship that Bilbo brought. It was nice to not be judged or stared at for once. The whispers surrounding him had only seemed to grow in size since he had fought at the Hogsmeade battle. There had been black in his aura. That little piece of information spread like wildfire. Black meant power, but many still mistakenly believed it to mean darkness. Even though he had nearly died fighting for his classmates’ lives, gossip continued to follow him.
It was also here where he could ignore the memories of Thror ripping into his mind and body, burning them away with a blowtorch held to reddening metal. He could forget the way that some people looked at him now - worried, disgusted - by polishing a completed ring setting for hours, until the silver shone like the stars Thorin and Bilbo had truly met under. He forgot that he would eventually have to face the end of term by carefully setting emeralds or sapphires into beautifully complete ring settings.
He could easily pretend that nothing existed beyond the work in the front of him. And he liked that.
He found himself spending more and more time in that room at night than any other in Hogwarts. He ignored his hunger and worked through dinner most days, sometimes lunch as well, despite Bilbo’s urging. He also ignored most of his homework in favor of silversmithing, in favor of doing something that would make a difference in the real world.
*******
During the first week of February, Professor Tonks decided to go ahead and have the talk with Thorin that she had spoken to Balin about. She had had enough of the whole situation and it was clear that it was not going to resolve itself on its own. She was tired of seeing Bilbo and Thorin unfocused on classwork. Both of their grades were not doing as well as they could have been, and she was determined to get down to the bottom of it. They had too much potential as future aurors to not be focusing on their work.
As the students packed up for the day, she came up to Thorin’s table.
“Mister Durin? Please stay. I need to talk to you.”
Thorin did not respond in any way, though he remained seated once he finished packing his bag.
Bilbo looked at him, concerned. “I’ll see you at lunch.”
Thorin nodded to him, then the Ravenclaw followed the other students on their way out.
Once they were alone, Professor Tonks shut the door behind them.
“Do you want to talk about why your grades are falling?” She asked, walking over to the desk in front of him. She took a chair and casually sat on it backwards. The stance went well with her unprofessional, spiky bubblegum pink hair. “Come on Thorin,” she pried. “You can talk to me. What we say doesn’t leave this classroom.”
He shook his head. He had been careful before and Thror had still found out. The more he thought about it, though, it seemed extremely unlikely that Professor Tonks would have been the one to rat him out. Most likely it had been Professor Malfoy, he realized suddenly.
“I don’t know what to say,” Thorin said honestly.
“Alright. Well, I have heard that after Hogwarts you plan to become an auror. Is that true?”
“Yes.” He nodded.
“You do realize they only accept the best of the best, right? Dropping your grades hurts no one but yourself.”
Thorin leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. That was something he hadn’t considered. He had been focusing so hard on silversmithing and teaching his friends that he hadn’t thought to care about his grades.
“I see,” he said. “I didn’t think that far ahead.”
“It’s not too late,” she replied kindly. “It’s only been a month. You can still finish the year with an Outstanding if you try hard enough.”
He nodded. “I will try, but... I cannot promise it.”
“At least you’ll try,” she said with a small smile. “Now, let’s talk about why they’re failing to begin with, and why you can’t promise that they will go up. What happened?”
Thorin’s expression crumpled without his permission as he was assaulted with memories. Thror standing over him, breaching his mind. Roughly rifling through precious memories: Bilbo’s smile, the glowing flowers in the greenhouse behind him. The way his curls had been going in all sorts of directions in the library. The sound of his laugh when Thorin made a joke in Potions. The feel of his hair and lips. His pink cheeks and bright smiles in the snow.
“I don’t have a choice,” Thorin managed, desperately trying to get a grip on himself as he felt extremely emotional all of a sudden. It was so hard to hide from Professor Tonks. He thought very highly of her and she was youthful in many ways, including her appearance, despite her age. Being a metamorphmagus had its perks. It made her more relatable, even if her true age was older.
“You always have a choice,” she said gently.
He shook his head. “No, I don’t. I have things to do.”
“Sirius wouldn’t agree with you. He didn’t have a choice either, but he chose anyway. He would never have let anything stand between him and what he wanted. And I know you want to be an auror.”
Thorin’s brow furrowed. “It isn’t - it isn’t about me. Sirius didn’t have to worry about someone else. This is - it’s about him. He isn’t safe.”
Professor Tonks frowned. “What do you mean, he isn’t safe? Bilbo?”
Thorin nodded.
Understanding dawned on Professor Tonks’ face.
“Someone threatened him. Thror?”
Thorin didn’t reply, but he didn’t have to. He just stared at the desk, silent.
“Thorin,” she said gently, “Bilbo is a gifted wizard. He can take care of himself.”
He decided to trust her. Pain was clear as day on his face as he looked her in the eye.
“Thror put a price on Bilbo’s head, because of - because we’re together. We aren’t very public about it, but we are.” Thorin twisted the silver ring on his finger nervously. “He said he’d kill him for defiling our family name. He’s -“ Thorin looked away and clenched his jaw. “He’s done it before.”.
Professor Tonks’s eyes widened. “Killed a student?”
Thorin shook his head then looked at her imploringly. “A situation like this, but not me. Not a student. Someone was killed.”
Professor Tonks shifted gears. “So why are your grades falling? Is it just the fear of what could happen?”
“I’m teaching them,” Thorin said seriously, once again deciding to trust her. “I’m teaching them how to really fight, not the watered down version that Hogwarts teaches. No offense.”
Professor Tonks was surprised. “None taken. Teaching who?”
“My friends. We have to be ready.”
Tonks thought for a moment before saying: “Listen to me closely, Thorin. In these walls, you are safe. You cannot allow fear to rule your life.”
Thorin shook his head, his face showing that he clearly disagreed. “We have to leave here at the end of the year. Hogwarts is safe for us now, but we won’t always be here. I only have until the summer to teach them what I know.”
She frowned. “That’s true, but listen to me. If Sirius had given up on everything due to the death threats he was given - and there were many, I assure you - he would not be your hero today. He fought for his life and his freedom. He never gave up. And he wouldn’t want you to throw away your future for anything. You need to find a balance.”
Thorin looked pensive. “Do you really think so?”
She smiled understandingly and reached across the table to squeeze his forearm for a moment. “I know so. Sirius was lighthearted, but steel. He wouldn’t be moved from the path he chose, no matter the consequences. He always found a way around the rules. Take control of your future, Thorin.”
Thorin gazed at her, slack jawed, as her words set in. Take control of your future, he thought. Take control of your future. A slow smile crept across his face, but then he sighed.
“I don’t know how.”
“Are you always teaching them in your spare time?” Professor Tonks asked.
“No. I silversmith a lot, creating protective pieces. They have saved our lives once already.”
She nodded slowly, remembering what Remus had told her. “May give you a piece of advice?”
He nodded.
“Find a balance between your future and your present. Lay off the silversmithing and focus on your studies. I’m sure you’ve made enough pieces to keep them safe until summer.”
He nodded and stood. They pushed their chairs in, and then he was shaking her hand. “Thank you, Professor.” He said, meaning it.
She patted the tall young man on the shoulder. “Anytime. Sometimes we all just need a little help. Life can seem pretty impossible sometimes, but I promise you, it isn’t.”
He nodded again as he slung his bag over his shoulder. He then made his way out of the classroom and to lunch.
.
*******
Thorin couldn’t find Bilbo after lunch. It worried him, seeing as he and Ori had only left a handful of moments ahead of him. It seemed as though Ravenclaw had simply vanished into thin air. Luckily for Thorin, he knew that they both had Defence Against the Dark Arts.
He came into the classroom feeling nervous, hoping that Bilbo was already there. Alongside his worry, Professor Tonk’s voice echoed in his head, reminding him to take control of his future. He wondered how he would get all of his schoolwork done when he was making study plans weekly.
But she had definitely been right. A day would come when Thorin wouldn’t be under his grandfather’s control. If that day came around and Thorin had destroyed his chance at being an auror, what was the point of it all? He had to create a future he could look forward to, and for Thorin, that meant creating a future with Bilbo and with a career that he loved.
The knowledge that Bilbo was going to be in his future was sweet. Heady, intoxicating.
That feeling quickly shifted into jealousy and anger when he saw what was right in front of his face.
Bilbo sat in his usual seat, but there was a pretty black haired Ravenclaw girl perched on the corner of his table. She giggled at something Bilbo had said, then twirled some of his shoulder length dirty blond hair around her fingers. He pushed her hand away and said something that Thorin couldn’t quite make out.
Thorin burned. Bilbo was his.
He looked over to his desk and saw Dwalin and Ori looking at him, gauging his reaction to the scene in front of him. He also saw the wary looks some of his classmates were giving him. Somehow, he still wasn’t used to having his loyalties questioned with simple stares.
Let them stare, he thought. Then he moved forward to Bilbo.
“I need my seat,” Thorin said firmly, interrupting the conversation. He glared at the girl, who gave him a dirty look. Bilbo looked at Thorin with obvious relief.
“What for? I’m having a conversation,” the girl replied, annoyed.
“Because I said so. It’s my seat.” Thorin said firmly.
“Class hasn’t even started yet.”
“You’re in my way.”
She jumped down from her perch and glared at him, pointing an accusatory finger and raising her voice. “You shouldn’t even be allowed to sit beside him. He’s got a gold aura. A pure aura. Yours is nasty with dark magic.”
“Are you stupid?” Bilbo asked her angrily, raising his voice as well. “Black means power and strength. And that’s not what gold means. Silver means purity, not gold. His aura is silver too, so you’re completely wrong.”
She sneered. “Maybe for some, but not for someone like him.”
Ignoring the bitch for the moment being, Thorin turned to Bilbo. “What does red mean?”
“Passion and danger,” Bilbo replied. “Danger toward your foes, to be more specific. In some circles, it means power too.”
“See? He’s dangerous,” Camilla said triumphantly.
“No shit, that’s why he was able to beat those wannabe Death Eaters.”
“Please. They let him win.”
“Bullshit,” Bilbo said, standing up and clenching his fists. “They tried to kill us. How about you listen to the people who were actually there? There’s plenty of students to ask.”
“They were too busy defending themselves to really pay attention to him. It’s all lies! You’re one of them, Durmstrang. We all know that you know the dark arts.”
Just as Thorin opened his mouth to reply, Professor Lupin’s voice cut in.
“Miss Lightwood, I was there.” Camilla turned around in surprise to see her Professor standing with his arms crossed. “Thorin fought for his life and protected your classmates. Black in an aura is rare, but it only represents power and strength, as Mister Baggins just informed you. If I catch you harassing Thorin again, I’m giving you detention. Bullying will not be tolerated in this school.”
She puffed up and pointed at Thorin. “He knows the dark arts! His family was in He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s pocket! He’s practically a terrorist and you are all defending him!” She looked around the room for validation, only finding it in a handful of students. The rest looked at her with varying degrees of anger and disbelief.
“He saved my life,” A Ravenclaw boy said, standing angrily. “He deflected a hex and killed the man who sent it! I don’t care how he did it, what matters is that I’m alive! Shut the fuck up! You’re the liar here!”
“Language,” Professor Lupin warned.
“Sorry Professor, but I’m tired of hearing this bull- this lie! He’s a good guy. It isn’t fair that he’s being judged when he helped save us! If it wasn’t for you, Professor Tonks, Baggins and Durin, we’d all be dead or worse!”
You could have heard a quill drop in the silence that followed.
“You’re right,” Professor Lupin agreed quietly. “You would be. And that is precisely why this course exists; so that you may learn how to defend yourselves from the enemy, whoever they are.”
“He’s right here!” Camilla insisted. “He’s a bloody Death Eater and no one cares!”
“You’re wrong.” Professor Lupin said firmly. “Detention. See me after class.”
Camilla shook her head angrily and took her seat, wisely shutting up.
Professor Lupin then walked up to the blackboard and began pacing back and forth slowly as he spoke..
“Today, we will be discussing and practicing the Patronus Charm. Can anyone tell me what that is used for?”
Thorin got to his seat just as Ori answered, “To repel dementors, sir.”
“Correct! And how does one get the Patronus Charm to work?”
Rickon Bletchley raised his hand. “You have to think of the happiest memory you have and hold onto that feeling when you cast it.”
“Brilliant, thank you, Mister Bletchley. Now, we do not have a dementor to practice on for obvious reasons-“ there were snickers at that, “-but we can still practice the charm. I promise you all, it is much easier to cast without the influence of dementors. Can anyone tell me why?”
Nori raised his hand and Lupin nodded to him. “Because they suck all the happiness out of you.”
“More or less, yes. They also inspire feelings of fear and dread, which can make it harder to focus on your chosen memory. Now, I want you all to take a few minutes to find your happiest memory. Once you’ve got it, focus on it. Let the feeling fill you up until there’s nothing else in your mind.”
A few minutes passed as the students did just that. Thorin had a hard time choosing a memory. He finally settled on some of the few sacred memories he still had of his mother. He thought about her golden hair, how sweet she had been giving him cookies and ruffling his hair. How wonderful it felt to have his hair brushed gently, to be tucked in. To be safe. It had been so long that he couldn’t even remember her face, but the emotion was there nonetheless.
“Now, does everyone have their memories? Good! I want you to stand at your desks and - not pointing your wand at your fellow student, please, Mister Bowling - say after me: expecto patronum!”
Everyone said it but nothing happened.
“That’s to be expected,” Professor Lupin reassured the class. “This is a very difficult charm. Here, let me demonstrate. Expecto patronum!”
A silver wolf burst out the end of his wand, coming to rest in front of him. It loped down the middle aisle and everyone admired it. It looped back around to Professor Lupin before disappearing.
“Now, I don’t expect any of you to get a corporeal Patronus today, but it is very possible that many of you will produce one. Remember to hold your memory in your mind as strongly as possible, focusing on its happiness.”
And with that, the class was off.
Within minutes, most had managed to create a fog out of the end of their wands. Most of the way through class time, however, that number had increased to everyone... except for Thorin.
Dwalin nudged him with his shoulder. “Performance anxiety?” He joked.
Thorin glared at him. “I don’t know why it isn’t working.”
Professor Lupin came up, having noticed Thorin’s lack of a Patronus. “Well, what are you thinking of, if I may ask?”
Thorin hesitated. Dwalin got the hint and went over to Ori’s desk. Bilbo was already over there, Ori having asked for his help a few minutes before. The three of them practiced together with Nori. Bilbo’s Patronus was a rabbit, Thorin noticed with amusement. Ori’s was a songbird, and Dwalin’s, a bear. Nori hadn’t seemed to produce a corporeal one yet.
“My mother, sir. What I can remember of her, anyway.”
“What is the memory?”
“Kind of a collection of memories. Her giving me cookies, brushing my hair, feeling safe…” he trailed off.
Professor Lupin pointed at him for a second. “There’s your issue right there. You’re looking at safety and contentment, not happiness. They are very similar, but not the same. Can you remember a time when you felt as though you would burst from happiness? When everything in the world was perfect, and all that mattered was that one moment?”
Thorin blanked for a moment. Unbidden, he recalled dancing with Bilbo at Halloween and how much fun it had been.
“I do, but it’s a little fuzzy.”
“Hmm,” Professor Lupin said. “Well, try to think of how you felt at that moment.”
Thorin tried. Then, he remembered Bilbo in the greenhouse. The moment he said “okay,” agreeing to date Thorin. How his heart had swelled with happiness, and everything had been right in the world. He allowed that moment to fill his mind, the emotions washing over him
“Expecto patronum,” He cast quietly.
A great eagle burst out the end of his wand. It flew around Bilbo as if knowing its inspiration. The Ravenclaw was surprised to see the emblem of his house, and his eyes followed it as it came back over to Thorin. He grinned widely when he realized whose Patronus it was.
“There you go!” Professor Lupin said proudly. He clapped Thorin on the shoulder, accidentally breaking his concentration, and the eagle faded out of existence. “You got it! See if you can do it again.”
Despite his many efforts, Thorin couldn’t get in the right mindset. All he could produce was fog at best.
“You’ll get it,” Professor Lupin reassured him. “This is a very difficult charm.”
“It doesn’t look difficult,” Thorin said, looking around at his classmates. A little over half of them had corporeal patronuses running around the classroom.
“It’s harder than it looks, I promise you.” Professor Lupin then checked his watch and walked to the front of the class.
“Alright everyone, that’s all we have time for today! Please pack up your things, class is dismissed!”
Thorin slung his bag over his shoulder when Dwalin asked, “Was that eagle yours?”
He nodded. Dwalin picked up his own bag and the two left class together, Bilbo and Ori close behind them.
“Bit obvious, don’t you think?” Dwalin continued with a wink.
Thorin gave him a half smile and rolled his eyes. “I can’t help it.”
“Ugh, you two are disgustingly cute. Never thought I’d see the day you were like this.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Thorin asked.
“Not at all,” Dwalin replied as they turned onto the Great Staircase. “But anyone who saw that Patronus and puts two and two together will get four.”
Thorin sighed. Leave it to his magic to expose him. He lowered his voice.
“Should we even hide it anymore? Grandfa-” he cut himself off. “Thror already knows.”
Dwalin shook his head. “I don’t think so. You do you, Thorin.”
******
They arrived at Potions with plenty of time to spare. Thorin swiftly took out his quill, ink pot, and parchment. He wrote a note to Bilbo and slid it over to him.
Do you want to keep pretending to be friends? It doesn’t matter if we hide or not anymore.
Bilbo read the note a couple times, his heartbeat increasing. Without sparing another moment he wrote his response.
No. I’m proud to be yours.
Thorin grinned at the response.
Professor Malfoy began class moments later, so Thorin hastily put away the note, not feeling like being publicly embarrassed. Professor Malfoy had already read one note out loud, and most certainly would not hesitate to read this one out loud as well.
As he droned on about the importance of mixing unicorn blood and basilisk venom evenly, Thorin thought about how to balance his personal life and schoolwork. He played with the silver protective ring that he wore on his middle finger.
*******
Thorin met Bilbo at their oak tree by the lake once all of their classes had finished.
“I need to talk to you,” Thorin said seriously.
Bilbo, sitting down and leaning against the tree, continued to read his book. “What about?” He asked distractedly.
“Professor Malfoy, I think it was, snitched to Thror,” Thorin said plainly.
That got Bilbo’s attention and his gaze snapped up. “What?”
Thorin sat down across from him, so the lake was at his back.
“I forgot to tell you before, but he sent him a letter saying that we were breaking school rules together. That’s why Thror asked me if I was breaking any school rules after our Quidditch match, when you first met him.”
Bilbo glared, though not at Thorin. “That slithering bastard,” Bilbo said angrily. “He caused you so much pain and for what! No good reason!”
Thorin nodded. “Essentially.”
“What a bastard,” Bilbo said, seething. “He nearly got you killed!”
“Yeah. What’s your book about?” Thorin asked, changing the subject. He didn’t feel like remembering bad memories at that moment.
“Oh. Um.” He showed Thorin the cover. “Charms homework. I have to read a couple chapters before class tomorrow.”
“Nice. Do you have any time for me?”
“Always,” Bilbo said with a grin.
Bilbo re-adjusted, moving so that Thorin’s back was to the tree. The Slytherin leaned against it and opened his heavy winter robe as Bilbo sat between his spread legs. The Ravenclaw leaned against his chest, using his shoulder as a pillow. Thorin put his arms and robe around Bilbo, giving him warmth. Bilbo laced their fingers together, so they were keeping the robe closed together.
They talked until the sky was a beautiful canvass of reds and oranges. Then they were quiet for a while, just relaxing and watching the sun set.
Eventually, Thorin spoke quietly, breaking the comfortable silence and nosing Bilbo’s hair.
“Do I need to worry about Camilla? She was touching you today.”
“She asked me to spend Valentine’s Day with her,” Bilbo said honestly. “I’m sorry I made you jealous. I didn’t mean to. I just didn’t want to be rude to her, but I should have. She’s a bitch. I can’t believe she said that - that shit about you.”
“She wants you,” Thorin reminded him. “Of course she would try to discredit me. She probably saw it as a way to get more time with you, since we spend all our time together.”
“Probably.”
Thorin’s grip on Bilbo’s fingers tightened.
“Are you… going to spend Valentines with her?”
Bilbo twisted around to look at him in disbelief. “Bloody hell, Thorin, have you lost your mind? I can’t believe you’re actually even asking me that. No, I’m going to spend it with you. Why would I ever hang out with her?”
Thorin pecked him on the lips, and the Ravenclaw turned back around to face the lake, laying his head on Thorin’s shoulder.
“I don’t know why I’d think that. I guess it’s hard for me to believe that this is happening. That you choose me, even though it means there’s people out to kill you.”
“I’ll always choose you, Thorin,” Bilbo said quietly. “Even though we’ve had to hide what we have, and will probably have to fight for it one day, I’d rather be with you than anyone else.”
Thorin leaned his forehead against Bilbo’s hair. ”I’m sorry that your life is in danger because of me. I never thought my fear would come true.”
Bilbo disagreed. “No. My life is in danger because Thror is a douchebag. None of this is your fault.”
“I’ll protect your life with my own,” Thorin promised. “So long as I breathe, I won’t let you die.”
“I know,” Bilbo said, head on his shoulder. “I’d die for you too, you know. They’ll never take either of us alive.”
It was a serious admission. In that moment, he wondered if Bilbo truly felt the same deep connection that he felt.
“We don’t have to hide our relationship anymore,” Thorin reminded him, changing gears to lighter topics. “We can go public. I’ve hated keeping you hidden away like some mistress. You deserve to be shown off.”
Unseen, Bilbo grinned at the compliment. “Thank you. Are you sure you want to go public, though? Getting you through school with the least amount of drama possible seems better. We have to get Outstandings if we want to be aurors.”
“Ah, yeah,” Thorin said, thinking about his talk with Professor Tonks. “Why would being with you cause drama?” He questioned. “If anything, dealing with others being interested in us would cause more drama. Besides...” he trailed off for a moment. “Are you sure you want to be seen as mine? You hear what they’re saying. That I’m a dark wizard, that it’s in my aura.”
“Bollocks,” Bilbo instantly replied. “The only thing dark about you is your hair. I’d be thrilled to be yours in public.” Something about the way he said the very first part had made Bilbo take notice. “How are your grades doing?” He asked, fully relaxing and leaning heavier against Thorin.
“Not well,” Thorin admitted. “I gave up on most of my classwork because I needed to work on our lesson plans, but Professor Tonks pointed out what you just said, so, I’m going to get them back up.”
Bilbo let out a low whistle. “You’ve been smithing too much, haven’t you?”
“Yeah. I’ve made a lot of pieces the past month or so.”
“I can believe it.” Bilbo had a sudden, random thought. “Let me take you to muggle London this summer,” he said.
“Okay. But only if I get to take you to the family beach house in Italy. Balin owns it, so we should be good.”
Bilbo just looked at the lake in shock.
“I’m - I’m sorry? Did you say, beach house in Italy?”
“Yes.”
“How is that in any way equal to muggle London?”
Thorin shrugged. “Just something I want to do with you. We can invite Ori and the guys, too. It’s got plenty of room.”
“Well. Alrighty then. Deal.”
They watched the sun go down for a while longer. When it touched the horizon, they got up and made their way back to the castle. Just as they reached the courtyard, Bilbo had a sudden thought that was too good to resist. Looking around and seeing no one, he pushed Thorin against the stone wall.
“I have a question for you, Mister Durin." Bilbo breathed into Thorin's ear.
Thorin immediately went on high alert from the sensuality of the moment. “You can ask me anything.”
Bilbo’s next words were said just as seductively. “Are we going to let that Malfoy snitch get away with this?”
Thorin felt a mischievous grin creep over his face. “No.”
Bilbo kissed him slowly, sweetly, and then they headed to the Great Hall. It was dinner time, so really they should have been with their respective houses, but Thorin didn’t give a single shit about that anymore. There, they joined Ori, and Thorin waved over Dwalin from the Slytherin table. Nori was practically on his heels. Bofur joined not long after, having seen the rest of the group together.
“What’s going on?” Bofur asked as he slid into the bench beside Nori.
“Something juicy, I’m sure,” Nori said, waggling his eyebrows.
“Yep,” Bilbo replied as he loaded up his plate.
“Sooo?” Ori asked.
“Want to cause some trouble?” Thorin asked, leaning forward conspiratorially.
The gel haired Slytherin grinned and took a sip of his drink. Ori just sighed, while Bofur looked interested. Dwalin focused on filling his plate, but Thorin knew he was listening closely.
“What are you thinking?” Nori asked. “Trouble is a specialty of mine.”
*******
The next morning, Draco Malfoy walked into his Potions classroom fifteen minutes before he was due to start. It was second years that morning, so nothing too difficult.
He began the usual task of lighting candles. It quickly became apparent to him, however, that someone had been in his classroom. With every new candle lit, his mounting horror grew. By the time he was done and the room was filled with light, he stared slack jawed at the room.
Toilet paper was everywhere.
It was on the floor. Across the desks. Hanging from the ceiling. It even managed to wrap around multiple desks, making their use impossible. His podium was completely mummified as well, and it was draped across his blackboard, smudging his lesson plans.
With a great sigh and many muttered curses, he began taking it down. There was a giggle of laughter as the first students arrived.
“Well don’t just stand there,” Draco said, evidently annoyed. “Help me clean up this mess.”
By the time sixth year Potions rolled around the next day, Draco could make a pretty educated guess as to who the culprits were. Durin and Baggins were sitting together, thick as thieves, and the Ríson twins were talking to them excitedly. All of them were a little too excited.
He also had no intentions of punishing them, or even accusing them, no matter how much his pride demanded it. He knew he had deserved it. He only hoped that Thorin refusing Thror’s wishes wouldn’t end too terribly. So long as Thorin’s grades went up, Draco was happy to turn a blind eye.
*******