Archive of Our Own ^beta

Christmas Day
Six years before

Nothing could have prepared EJ for the grandeur of the decorations that decked the Great Hall as he stepped inside: the stone walls had vanished and had been replaced by what looked like pure ice. Under the light of real fairies that flew around the hall, the whole room glistened in white and light blue. It was a magical atmosphere: EJ had known since the beginning of his new job with the Department of Magical Games and Sports that the Yule Ball and its decorations would be like nothing he'd ever seen before, but still he could have never imagined this splendor.

It was a shame that all that beauty was wasted on him. With every step he took inside the Great Hall, the pang that EJ felt in his chest, right where he knew his heart was, grew more and more painful.

“Well, das ist wunderschön!”

Greta’s hold on his arm was strong, and her pretty blue eyes widened as she marveled at the room. EJ couldn’t even look at her.

“Yes,” he heard his voice reply automatically, poised and detached, “It’s quite extraordinary.”

The room was already full of an incredible crowd of wizards and witches: besides Hogwarts students (those old enough to participate), there were the teachers, all dressed in elegant gowns, and delegations of Ministry officials from all over Europe; the Triwizard Tournament was the talk of the season, and normally EJ would have been all too eager to mingle with as many people as possible, creating connections, extending a network. Normally, he would have his arm wrapped around Ricky’s waist, trying not to laugh at an inappropriate joke he would undoubtedly make about the weird shape of a Belgian warlock’s hat. Instead…

“Aren’t those your parents?” Greta asked, pointing towards the left corner of the room. Sure enough, deep in conversation with the French Minister of Magic, EJ recognized the figure of the two people he owed his current misery to.

Oh, really? Ricky had another opinion on who you owe your misery to, though.

“Yes,” EJ tugged Greta in the opposite direction and settled behind a crowd of excitable fifth-years, one of whom he recognized as a Slytherin. “Let’s steer clear from them, alright?”

Greta addressed him with an amused stare, and for once EJ didn’t feel the need to look away immediately. She was very pretty: blonde hair neatly styled in an elegant knot at the base of her head, intelligent blue eyes and the posture of a princess. He could clearly see why his father had appointed her as his date for the Yule Ball.

What he still had a hard time figuring out was, how he’d possibly agreed to this idea.

“Ricky… say something please?” EJ pleaded. The cold wind blew snowflakes in his face, but he only cared about Ricky, standing in front of him in the middle of Hogsmeade High Street.

“What do you want me to say?” Ricky sighed, plunging his hands in the pockets of his coat. His shoulders sagged, and he avoided EJ’s eyes. He was disappointed.

“It’s just for the night of the Yule Ball,” EJ tried, a hint of desperation in his voice. “If I go with this Greta girl, my father will leave us alone…”

“Oh, right.” Ricky’s smile was bitter. “This is exactly what leaving us alone looks like, my bad.”

Each word fell heavy, and EJ found it hard to speak past the guilt that was raveling his throat.

“I’m sorry, I really am. But ever since he found about you, he’s been… you know how he’s been…”

“Do I? Because you’re not telling me much about it, EJ.” Ricky finally looked at him. It was true, EJ had to admit it: in the three months since the Hogwarts school year had started, EJ had begun keeping to himself more and more the worst parts of his days. And since his father had found out about Ricky and threatened to end EJ’s career at the Ministry if he went public with their relationship, well... It would be an understatement to say that EJ had tried to avoid the subject as much as possible. But when the Yule Ball was announced and it became apparent that EJ would have to participate as a member of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, it became impossible to ignore the hippogriff in the room.

“I… I only get to see you one weekend a month, I don’t want to waste time fighting.” EJ knew it was a weak excuse, but it wasn’t a lie.

“Good, yeah.” Rick’s jaw was clenched. “So instead, you decide to tell me that we can’t go to the Yule Ball together because your father thinks it’ll be a political scandal. And I’m supposed to be cool with it.”

“That’s not what…” 

“You know what I really don’t understand?” Ricky started pacing up and down, clearly unable to hold his composure. “You’ve always said you didn’t care about what your parents think, that you wanted to do your own thing. And you always have, haven’t you? You’ve kept them out of your life in school. You didn’t follow the career they wanted for you. But me? Why am I different?”

Ricky was livid.

“You know I have no other choice!” EJ tried to get closer to him, but Ricky stepped back.

“That’s bullshit, EJ. I told you I was fine with waiting, with hiding from your parents, with not telling your colleagues. But it’s always been clear that it was our choice. Mine and yours. And if you want to keep doing this, to go to the Yule Ball with this German girl your father thinks is politically strategic, fine. Do what you think is best. But don’t fucking tell me you have no other choice, EJ. I’m the other choice. And you’re not choosing me .”

“Look!” Greta squeezed his arm, and EJ almost wrenched it from her grasp. He took a deep breath: it wasn’t her fault if he was a coward. He looked in the direction she was pointing, toward the entrance of the Great Hall: the massive doors had opened wide, and the orchestra had begun playing a soft melody to accompany the entrance of the champions and their escorts. Headmaster Flitwick led the party, proudly dressed in midnight blue velvet.

“That’s my brother!” Greta murmured excitedly, as the Durmstrang champion strode in accompanied by a pretty girl EJ didn’t recognize. He was tall and imposing, blond like his sister; he surpassed the Beauxbatons champion by a full head. The French guy looked handsome and charming, like a prince: on his arm Nini was radiant, for once at ease in the spotlight, and EJ couldn’t help but grin at the sight. But then the Hogwarts champion came into sight, and EJ felt sick to his stomach.

Gina was beautiful and intimidating, proudly wearing the Slytherin colors on her dress: an excited murmur traveled through the crowd, welcoming the home champion who had already made a name for herself. EJ had been beyond proud when her name had been called to represent the school: not only she was his friend, but she was also a Slytherin and the best chance the school had at securing the title.

But he couldn’t stop the acid taste that filled his mouth as she walked in arm in arm with Ricky, elegant enough for once. This time it was his turn to squeeze Greta’s arm: EJ looked on as Ricky barely lifted his eyes from the ground, giving Gina a small smile when they took their positions in the middle of the floor to initiate the dances. Ricky was miserable, and it was all EJ’s fault.

“Are we going to dance?” Greta asked, tugging EJ forward.

Dance? He didn’t even know if he could stand on his two feet without tripping.

“No,” he replied automatically, taking a step back. The music had started, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at Ricky dancing with Gina.

It should have been him. But he was too much of a coward, and now he’d lost his chance.

“Why not?” Greta looked at him, bewildered. Her pale blue gown matched the exact shade of her eyes, and he wondered if it was the result of clever spellwork. Ricky would probably know about it.

“I can’t dance.” He lied. “Sorry. I’ll get you a drink.”

He left her on the edge of the dance floor before she could say anything else and he made his way through the crowd, towards the drinks table. He was careful to avoid the corner where he knew his parents stood and poured himself a glass of Gillywater, which he downed in one go. It tasted as disgusting as he felt.

EJ retreated to a bench in the back, grateful for the crowd of excited students that at least for a while would hide him from everyone else. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself. How pathetic would it be if he broke apart, a young Ministry official, alone with a glass in the middle of the Yule Ball? One way or another, he would have caused a scandal. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, he would always disappoint someone.

Why am I different?

Ricky’s voice kept echoing in his head, faltering over and over at the end of the sentence. And every time, it was like EJ was breaking too, piece by piece, each why, why, why cracking the layers he’d built around himself, around his relationship.

Of course, Ricky was different. Ricky was everything: EJ could challenge his parents on every ground because it was his career, his life on the line. But risking Ricky? Ricky’s career? Ricky’s dreams? Ricky, being taken away from him?

EJ knew he couldn’t risk losing that.

And yet, you’re losing him anyway. Looks like you can’t win.

Resisting the urge to throw his empty glass against the wall, EJ pinched the bridge of his nose. He needed to get back on his feet and act like a fucking adult: Ricky was right, after all. Going to the Ball with Greta had been his choice. The least he could do was own up to it.

“There you are! I was starting to think you’d fled the room entirely.”

EJ’s head shot up: Ashlyn had just emerged from the crowd of students and had planted herself in front of him with her hand on her hips. It took him several seconds to find the words to speak to her.

“Hey Ash,” he finally said, taking in her carefully styled hair and the light green dress, “You look very pretty.”

“Thanks,” she beamed, brushing a curl behind her shoulders. “You look like a guilty idiot.”

EJ bit the inside of his cheek. Trust Ashlyn to tell him exactly what he needed to hear.

“I was going for handsome and brooding, actually.”

“Right. May I suggest trying the head-out-of-your-ass-and-go-get-your-boyfriend look instead?”

Ashlyn raised both eyebrows expectantly and EJ looked around for an escape route.

“Don’t you have something better to do?” He asked, “Where did you ditch Big Red?”

“He’s dancing with your date, actually,” Ashlyn informed him.

“Right. I should get back to her.”

“She’s not very fond of you at the moment,” Ashlyn sighed, extending one hand for EJ to grasp and stand up. “Apparently, it’s not the first time she’s being used as cover up for a scandalous gay affair.”

EJ froze just as Ashlyn began to pull him across the crowd, towards the dancefloor.

“What? She knows?”

“Apparently. Come on, spin me around a little.” Ashlyn smiled, tugging EJ forward until they mingled with the dancers, and begun swaying in time with the music.

“Ash, I can’t.” EJ panicked, clasping his hand around her cousin and leading her tentatively into a waltz. He caught a glimpse of Ricky and Gina, not too far away: she was laughing, pointing at her feet, and Ricky had an unmistakable look of guilt on his face.

Salazar, how he wanted to kiss him.

The music picked up a tempo, and the crowd begun spinning faster. Ashlyn and EJ moved among the students and teachers, Ministry people and foreign dignitaries.

“It’s your choice to make, EJ,” Ashlyn followed his lead in the dance, but refused to be taken away from the centre of the floor. “It will be alright, I promise.”

Seb and Carlos twirled around them, locked so tight it was impossible to tell whose hands where who’s; the Beauxbatons champion had just thrown Nini into the air like a ballerina, and even Miss Jenn was dancing with a stiff Professor Mazzara, who looked like he’d rather be plucking antennas from a bunch of poisonous snails.

EJ caught a glimpse of the four houses hourglasses, still visible at the end of the Hall: Slytherin was winning, courtesy of Gina and her excellent placement in the First Task.

What kind of Slytherin would accept being pushed around like this?

EJ shook his head, following the quick beat of the orchestra.

It wasn’t a matter of Slytherin pride, or a strategic career move. It wasn’t about making his parents happy or going against their will.

It was about Ricky, and the choice EJ had to make.

As the music came to a final crescendo, EJ looked above Ashlyn’s shoulder, past a couple of fifth years and straight into Ricky’s eyes among the crowd.

The choice was Ricky. It would always be Ricky.

(In retrospect, he could have chosen a less dramatic way to give his parents a non-verbal fuck you than ripping Ricky from Gina’s arms the moment the song ended; but it had been worth it for the way Ricky had smiled against his lips, and the feel of his arms wrapped around him right under the French Minister’s nose. Given the choice, EJ wouldn’t change a thing.)

Thanksgiving Day
Five years before 

The smell of garbage hit Ricky’s nose as soon as his feet touched the ground of the dimly lit alley, the familiar tug of a well-done Apparition unsettling his stomach just barely. Big black plastic sacks were rotting away on both sides against the walls, and a stray black cat hissed furiously at him; it bolted away in a second, terrified by a second sudden Apparition.

EJ exhibited his best disgusted frown, smoothing his shirt down.

“Charming,” he commented, taking a look around. “The MACUSA surely knows how to keep a back road inhospitable for Muggles.”

Ricky bit back a smile.

“I’m pretty sure it’s Muggles who keep it like this, you know.” he said, carefully stepping over what looked like a puddle of vomit. EJ looked at it for a good five seconds, then he took out his wand and vanished it without a word.

He emerged first into the main road, but stumbled back immediately: three teenagers with hoodies and skateboards were racing each other down the sidewalk, and it was only thanks to EJ’s old Quidditch reflexes that he managed to jump out of the way before they all crashed into him.

“Seriously?” He hissed, glaring at Ricky as if it was his fault that skateboards existed in America, “There’s more of you?”

Despite the nerves that were starting to pool at the bottom of his stomach, Ricky laughed.

“I told you skateboards are pretty popular among Muggles,” he said, “And just wait till I manage to make my hoverboard work…”

“Salazar on a broomstick,” EJ raised his eyes to the sky in prayer, “I knew you’d be a menace, working for Weasley…”

“I’m planning on leading the R&D team within this time next year,” Ricky stage-whispered, taking EJ’s hand and starting to lead him down the street. EJ feigned distress, but his pretense crumbled when he stopped to kiss him in front of a closed ice cream shop. Ricky knew that EJ was proud of his ambition.

“I didn’t think it would be this cold,” EJ commented, swinging Ricky’s hand in his like they were a couple of children on the playground.

The sky was grey, and a cold wind bit their cheeks and noses: around them on the street, people raised the collars of their jackets and hid their hands in their pockets, hurrying along to finish the last purchases of the day.

“Chicago in November?” Ricky shook his head, “We’re lucky it’s not snowing.”

EJ looked around with cautious interest, with the same look he had whenever he visited the Muggle world. Ricky still hadn’t forgotten his first encounter with automatic checkouts in Tesco when they’d gone shopping for his dad’s groceries.

“When’s the last time you came here?” EJ asked.

Ricky focused on the warmth of EJ’s palm against his, the shape of his hand and the familiar rhythm of his step beside him.

“I’m not sure,” he said, thinking back. “Christmas, second year?”

They’d flown in to see his grandparents, but all Ricky remembered was hiding in the snowy garden, as far away as possible from his parents’ shouting match in the kitchen. His grandma had been shocked to find his clothes perfectly dry even after he’d sat in the snow for almost an hour.

This would be the first time he saw his mother in three years. It hadn’t been easy, deciding to go but then EJ had managed to take a few days off at the Ministry, George Weasley had asked him to make contact with a Goblin about some new kind of exploding powder while he was in the Midwest, and even Mike had strongly suggested that this would be a perfect time to go see his mom.

So, Ricky had bought the tickets for an Intercontinental Portkey, EJ had handled all the necessary bureaucracy, and they’d packed a three-days suitcase that was currently being stored in Ricky’s pocket, thanks to a perfectly legal Extension Charm. The hardest part had been explaining to EJ that the Muggle holiday they were going to celebrate did not require him saying “thank you” to every random stranger he encountered on the street.

They turned right and walked past a house with a horrible collection of garden gnomes; suddenly, Ricky came to a halt.

“Whoa,” EJ hadn’t expected it, and stumbled back. “What’s… are you okay?”

Ricky gulped, trying to talk past the knot that had formed in his throat. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t think, and he most certainly couldn’t reach the red brick house at the end of the road, where his mother, the mother who had left him, was waiting with a turkey roast and a shiny new boyfriend to introduce him to.

“Ricky, hey,” EJ’s voice sounded soft, as if coming from a dream; Ricky focused on the grounding weight of his hands on his shoulders, and the bright green of his eyes. “Deep breaths, babe, come on.”

Ricky tried his best to mimic him, taking one tentative breath in and then another one, and another one until he felt a little steadier on his feet. Then he crashed into EJ’s arms, burying his nose in the soft wool of his still pristine Slytherin scarf.

“I don’t want to see her,” he confessed in a small voice, “We can pretend we never got here. I’ll tell her there was bad weather and the Portkeys didn’t work, she has no clue about how magic works.”

EJ’s arms wrapped around him, safe and warm.

“Are you sure?” He murmured, pressing a kiss against his temple. “We’ve come all this way.”

“It’s just… it’s been so long, and our relationship is so broken.” Ricky shuddered and EJ’s arms tightened around him. “What if it’s too late to fix it?”

EJ grazed his thumb along the line of Ricky’s jaw, prompting him to look up at him.

“I don’t think it’s too late,” he said, in the calm tone that always made Ricky feel like everything could find its place in the world, even when nothing made sense. “She’s been writing non-stop. She wants to make things right with you. I’m sure three days won’t be enough but… I think that when we leave on Saturday, you’ll be happier than you are now. It’s a process, right? It takes time.”

“You sure?” Ricky muttered.

“Of course, I am,” EJ’s smile was blinding, “Or I wouldn’t have pushed you to come here, would I?”

“Right.” Ricky closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against EJ’s shoulders, searching for his long-lost nerve and at the same time trying to hold on to this hug for as long as he could.

“You know…” EJ gently caressed the base of his neck, “I’m going to deny it if you ever tell anyone I said this, but I think… I think there’s only one way we can do this.”

“Which is?” Ricky looked at him, curious. EJ pursed his lips.

“The Gryffindor way. No thoughts, just action. Head-first.”

Funny, clever, amazing EJ.

Ricky burst into laughter and started walking again, tugging EJ forward.

“I’m definitely going to tell Ellie you said that.” He informed him. EJ grumbled a dozen insults in protest, but his grasp on Ricky’s hand didn’t falter, and this time, neither did Ricky.

Saint Patrick’s Day
Four years before

“Babe! Babe I’m home!”

EJ raised his eyes from the copy of the Morning Prophet he’d gotten delivered from London, just in time to see Ricky stumble through the door of the apartment the Ministry had rented for them in Boston.

Ricky bore all the signs of the night he’d spent out: his hair was tousled and sticking in weird directions, eyes bloodshot, a lopsided smile and the unmistakable reek of alcohol. The Muggle kind.

“I can see that.” EJ said, setting the paper aside and getting mentally ready to deal with a drunk Ricky. “You look spectacular.”

Ricky’s laugh had more hiccups than would be considered acceptable, and he threw himself down on the couch next to EJ. Or at least, he tried to do so: he missed the couch the first time, landing flat on the carpet. He propped himself up on one elbow, his bright smile unfazed.

“Hey beautiful.”

EJ pressed his lips together to avoid laughing in his face.

“Hey, you.” EJ slid down, so he was sitting on the carpet beside Ricky and slid a hand through his hair, pushing the curls away from his forehead. “Where did you leave Gina?”

“I’m here,” said Gina’s cavernous voice from the door. She was in a total-black attire and looked like she’d stared Death in the eyes. “I’m going to use your bathroom.”

And without another word she disappeared, the door slamming behind her.

“Lightweight,” Ricky chuckled. “All that Auror training and… and… and she thought she could outdrink me.”

“Well, who outdrunk you?” EJ asked.

“No one!” Ricky threw his arms out in celebration and lost his balance, so EJ kept him upright. Good thing he’d asked Nini to raid Saint Mungo’s stash of sobering potions before this trip. A joint diplomatic mission with a squad of Aurors in Boston that coincided with Saint Patrick’s Day and which Ricky had insisted to crash? EJ had known from the start that this would be the outcome. All in all, he was happy he didn’t need to recover Ricky from the depths of Boston Harbor.

“No one?”

“NO ONE!” Ricky hollered victorious, “An Irish guy at the pub came up to me and he said, he said that lady in black, and I thought he meant Gina, that lady thinks you can’t drink more ale than I can, and I agree. And you know what I said, EJ? You know what I said?” Ricky had a spirited look.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing! I took a pint, and I drank it! Like a wizard!”

After that, Ricky burped loudly, and EJ couldn’t hold his laughter anymore.

When did this man become the main source of happiness in my life?

“Well done, love,” he mocked him, “You really showed him.”

“Yes.” Ricky nodded; his head abandoned on EJ’s shoulder. “And wait ’til I show you.”

EJ glanced quickly at the bathroom door, behind which Gina might as well have died, so quiet it was.

“Babe, Gina’s here.” EJ said quickly, before Ricky could do something stupid like… “Ricky, stop unzipping your hoodie, babe, let’s get you some water okay?”

“No,” Ricky purred, his fingers slipping as the zip remained caught at the end. He began flailing his arms around to get out of it without finishing to unzip it, and EJ tried to shush him before he could do something really stupid. No matter how drunk she was, if Gina caught them like this, she would have never let them live it down.

“Ricky, seriously…” EJ looked around for his wand, wondering if the alcohol in Ricky’s blood would react badly to a Petrificus spell. Under him on the carpet, Ricky had begun wrestling with his t-shirt, and he was already naked around the waist. When he finally managed to take it off completely, he addressed EJ with an attempt at a seductive smile that looked more like he was recovering from a Stunning spell, but that wasn’t what caught EJ’s attention.

“What the…?” He breathed out, eyes zeroing in on Ricky’s left shoulder.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s… it’s… what is it?”

It was a rhetorical question: EJ hadn’t become the youngest fifth level Ministry Official in the International Magical Cooperation Department without being able to recognize a magical tattoo when he saw one. And Ricky’s was kind of impossible to miss, given how it spread over his bicep. It made him look like a drunken pirate.

“It’s you, babe.” Ricky gently prodded the tattoo with a finger, and it curled and moved around it, “I got it for you.”

That was clear enough too. EJ’s patronus was an octopus, exactly like the one that Ricky had inked all over his skin. Its tentacles floated around, disappearing behind Ricky’s shoulder and extending over his chest.

“I… I don’t really know what to say.”

EJ looked at Ricky smiling lovingly at his tattoo - who knew Boston would have magical tattoo parlors open this late at night? - and his stomach churned uncomfortably. Ricky was going to regret this when he woke up, he was sure of it. They’d been together for almost four years, and he was still so careful with taking big steps in their relationship: EJ kept a toothbrush and half of Ricky’s wardrobe at his place, but still hadn’t asked him to move in. Because he knew how that would probably mean sending Ricky running for the hills, like every big relationship step did. And this? Getting a magical tattoo of EJ’s patronus? This would freak him out in the morning.

“You should get one too,” Ricky said, when EJ traced the shape of his tattoo. “Not a big one like mine ‘cause you’re a serious guy. But a little hedgehog. For me.”

EJ’s heart was beating five miles a minute.

Maybe this is how he really feels, though. And the beer just helped him release a bit of his usual anxiety.

“I’ll think about it.” EJ took Ricky’s hand and gently kissed his fingers. A shiver ran through him, and the tattoo-octopus curled its tentacles in response. “Ricky… are you sure about this?”

Ricky blinked, his eyes suddenly clearer and more focused. He looked like he’d just swallowed a vial of that sobering up potion that was waiting for him in the kitchen.

“Yeah, of course,” he spoke softly, sounding more like himself. “Because I’m sure about you.”

EJ smiled, and let Ricky pull him down on the carpet to kiss him, deep and slow. Despite the cold of the end-of-winter night in Boston, Ricky’s skin was warm under him. In the back of his mind, he still knew that Gina could come out and find them in this compromising position at any given moment, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Because Ricky was sure about him, and EJ hadn’t realized how bad he’d needed to hear him say it, until the words had come out of his mouth.

Along with a giant tattoo of the literal material representation of EJ’s soul permanently inked on Ricky’s skin.

That was a nice reminder, too.

Easter
Three years before

Ricky’s steps echoed along the corridor of the thirteenth floor of the tall glass building that hosted one of Muggle New York’s most renowned hotels. It had become quite famous because of its anomaly, that became apparent to whoever used the elevator: the buttons were 28 in total, but there was one number missing between 12 and 14. As far as Muggles knew, the thirteenth floor didn’t exist. It had been accepted as a funny peculiarity: the ghost floor, they called it. What Muggles didn’t know was that, just like everything else about the Wizarding World, the thirteenth floor existed, and it was hidden in plain sight.

As Ricky walked up to his room, he couldn’t help but feel like he was a ghost himself. The past few weeks, he’d done nothing but throw himself into his work. He was close to discovering a new method to prevent magic from being detected by the ever-evolving technologies that Muggles had developed all over the world and in the US especially. He had never been more proud of his work, and he was itching to tell EJ everything about it. The last time he’d seen EJ though, more than two weeks earlier, the only thing he’d wanted to tell him would have probably sounded more like an Unforgivable Curse. He hadn’t spoken to him since, and for all Ricky knew, EJ must be busy moving all of his stuff out of the cozy London flat Ricky had learned to feel at home in, and into the new countryside villa he’d sprung up on him like he should have been happy about it.

Ricky clenched his fist in his pocket. He still couldn’t believe EJ would do that to him.

It wasn’t like Ricky hadn’t expected EJ to ask him to move in together when he did, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t been toying with the idea himself for a while. He had given EJ the answer he’d rehearsed under the shower, and during his lunch breaks at the Wizardtech R&D Division of Weasley Wizard Wheezes: it was a good idea, he just needed a little more time to wrap his head around it.

What Ricky hadn’t expected was to find EJ in the middle of the living room, handing him a small box that contained a symbolic silver key (wizards didn’t really need those when Sealing Spells existed) to a country house he’d gone and bought for the two of them and Ellie - bought, for Godric’s sake - and smiling like he’d gotten him the surprise he’d always secretly wanted.

Apparently EJ hadn’t been expecting the fight that broke out immediately.

“I don’t understand why it is okay for you to get a tattoo of my patronus all over your arm but then moving in together is a tragedy?” EJ shouted, his frustration obvious in the thin line of his lips.

“It’s not about that, it’s - you bought a HOUSE!” Ricky protested. EJ didn’t get to be frustrated at him, when all he’d done was being sincere and open from the beginning about this moving in affair. He didn’t get to walk all over his feelings and then act like it was Ricky’s fault if he didn’t like the surprise house he’d never agreed to buying.

“But what is the problem with that?”

Ricky loved EJ, he did. But he also knew that love was hardly enough, when you peeled away the passionate gestures and the first years of fairytale romance.

“The problem is that I told you I needed TIME, and you didn’t fucking LISTEN!”

His parents had loved each other, and that hadn’t been enough. Ricky saw himself, not much taller than the sofa he had hidden behind to create a physical divide between him and EJ, watching his parents fight in the middle of another living room, a lifetime away. He felt sick to the stomach.

“Okay, you need time, I get that...”

“No, you don’t!”

“You know what, it’s true.” EJ’s jaw was set tightly, his tone controlled and cold like this was just another one of his Ministry meetings he was struggling to get the upper hand in. “I don’t get it. We’ve been together for five years now, you sleep at my place a minimum of four times a week, I know that moving in together is a big deal, but why do you act like I’m fucking putting you in prison?”

“You just can’t stand it when things are not done exactly your way, can you?” Ricky growled, and he didn’t care if he was being a little unfair. He was furious at EJ, for revealing this weakness in their relationship. Furious at himself because, despite his best efforts, he was going to do the one thing he’d sworn to himself he would never fall prey to. He was going to become just like his parents.

“Hey. Let’s take a break for a second, alright?” There was hurt in EJ’s eyes, and Ricky hated that he’d caused it, and hated that he knew EJ had deserved it. As EJ circled the couch to get closer to him, he took a step back. “We can calm down, and talk about this tomorrow, or...”

“Yeah. It’s a good idea.” Ricky cut him off. “I... I have to go, anyway.”

EJ’s eyes widened in confusion, and this time, Ricky felt a pinprick of guilt to his stomach. This was a conversation he’d actively been avoiding for weeks, and he knew it was on him.

“Go where?”

“There’s a thing, a congress about magic and technology I have to go to for the weekend. In New York.” Ricky explained, without looking his boyfriend in the eyes. He’d known about it since Christmas, and he didn’t really know why he still hadn’t told EJ about it. Maybe it was because EJ’s career had taken such an important turn now that he was working directly in the Minister’s office, and Ricky had often felt like his own work was child’s play compared to EJ’s. Maybe it was because, even though he loved EJ, and in the bottom of his heart he knew he wanted to move in with him, he would never stop needing to keep an exit route for himself.

“In New York?” EJ blankly repeated.

“Yeah. I’m leaving on Friday.”

“And - and when were you going to tell me?”

Ricky was, after all, his mother’s son. When things got difficult, when things got real, he would run away to the other side of the ocean.

“It’s just for the weekend, it’s not a big deal”

“Oh, it’s not - fine then. Have fun in New York.”

“I’m going for work. Not for fun.” The ice in EJ’s voice made Ricky look at him again, only to spare him an equally cold goodbye. He checked his pocket to make sure he still had his wand with him, and without glancing in EJ’s direction he made a beeline for the door, slamming it so forcefully it rattled on its hinges.

It was early March, but the air outside was cold enough that Ricky’s tears froze on his cheeks moments after they touched his skin.

In New York, Ricky hastily wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. He was supposed to spend just one weekend in the Big Apple, but when some American warlocks had offered him to visit one of their labs and consult on some of the most advanced projects, after Weasley had given him the green light he’d simply… stayed. He hadn’t responded to Nini’s flock of distressed owls, or to Gina’s fireplace calls, at seven pm every Tuesday and Friday. He hadn’t needed to ignore EJ’s messages because there simply hadn’t been any.

Ricky turned the last corner in the maze of corridors that made up the secret thirteenth floor of the hotel, eager to get to his room.

There was only one person whose letters he hadn’t ignored, because he may well be going through a personal crisis like he’d never seen before, but he wasn’t completely heartless. And that person was, extremely unexpectedly, standing in front of his hotel room.

Ricky’s heart had been through a lot recently, but now he was positive that the shock would send him into cardiac arrest.

“Ellie?” He exhaled, trying to make sense of the scene before his eyes. Sure enough, still in her school uniform and in desperate need of a shower but mostly unscathed, Ellie Caswell was leaning against door 1378. She even gave him a small, mischievous smile.

“Hi.”

Hi? What did she mean, hi? She was supposed to be in Scotland, more than five thousand kilometers from New York; she was supposed to be in school, for Godric, Salazar, and all the Hogwarts’s founders’ sake!

“What - what are you doing here?” Was all he managed to say, scanning her up and down. She looked the same as ever, short for her fourteen years of age, her blonde hair messily gathered in a braid that fell over her shoulder.

“Got lost on the way to the Quidditch Pitch.” Ellie shrugged, her green eyes alight with the satisfaction that came with a well-executed shenanigan. Quidditch? She hadn’t flown all the way over the Atlantic Ocean, had she?

Ricky unlocked the door to the room, trying to keep his head clear. He was the adult in this situation, and he needed to assess damage.

“What - does anyone know you’re here?”

“No, I guess not.”

“Ellie!”

Ellie looked unbothered as she flopped down on the small couch in the living room area, the skirt of her uniform spreading in a perfect circle around her. But Ricky knew her well enough to recognize the distressed fidgeting of her fingers as they fiddled with the buttons of her Gryffindor cardigan. And then there was the obvious fact that she had just crossed international borders, probably illegally, to come see him. It wasn’t hard to guess why.

“Look, I was just worried for you, okay? I thought you had to stay in New York for two days and it’s been what, two weeks? Why are you not coming back?” Ellie admitted, looking Ricky straight in the face. It was painful to look at her and see the exact shape and color of EJ’s eyes; Ellie was so similar to her brother, and so different at the same time. One thing they both had in common was the way they’d carved a place into Ricky’s heart, week after week for the past five years.  They held a spot that had only been getting bigger, and more important every day. They were his family.

“It’s just work, Ellie. I will get back when I’m done, I promise.” Ricky spoke softly, shuffling out of his jacket and sitting down next to her on the couch. Ellie turned to face him, face first, in perfect Gryffindor fashion.

Ricky was suddenly reminded of a September night of four years before, when she was terrified she’d lose her brother’s love because she’d been sorted into Gryffindor.

“I know you and EJ are fighting.” She told him, eyes wide. Her voice trembled just barely.

“Yeah.” Ricky nodded. He knew what it felt like, when people he cared about were at odds with each other and wouldn’t admit it to him, in the naive conviction that by lying to him, he would somehow be protected from their pain. Instead, he was hurt twice; he didn’t want to do the same to Ellie.

“I just - I just wanted to see you. And I know it’s totally not my business, but I don’t want you two to break up.” She twisted her hands together, looking terribly small on the couch of the hotel room. It occurred to him now that three days before he’d missed the Easter Hogsmeade visit that he and EJ would always go to, to see her for the holidays. She must have been really scared by the idea of the two of them breaking up, if it had prompted her to flee Hogwarts just so she could come talk to him on another continent.

A powerful wave of affection washed over him, for Ellie, and all the ways he saw himself in her.

“Ellie, come here.” He slung an arm over her shoulders, prompting her to look up at him. “Listen to me. Even if - even if EJ and I were to break up, that wouldn’t mean I’d stop caring about you. I love you, whatever happens between me and your brother. Never doubt that, okay?”

Even saying it was painful. He didn’t want to break up with EJ, he never had. He didn’t know who should reach out first - he’d been stalling, and so had EJ. They had a lot to talk about, but deep-down Ricky knew one fundamental truth: they were family, and they would always find their way back to each other. And if they struggled… apparently, they had someone else to count on, ready to bring them back together.

“Okay.” Ellie was fighting very, very hard to hide from him the tears that had sprung in her eyes, and Ricky let her tuck her face in his shoulder until she could confidently pretend she hadn’t been sniffling all over his hoodie. He rubbed her back to comfort her, steadying himself to ask another very pressing question.

“How did you even get here?”

“Uhm.” Ellie’s smile was a mixture of pride and guilt, and Ricky was a little scared to proceed in the conversation.

“How?”

“Went to Hogsmeade.” Ellie sighed, holding up her fingers like she was counting the phases of her mastermind plan. “Flooed to London from the Hog’s Head. Took an Intercontinental Portkey that cost me like, thirty galleons... and I arrived here in New York. Then I just took the subway to here.” She shrugged, like it was no big deal. Ricky had always been on the side of reckless troublemakers, having been (and still being) one himself, but for once he was speechless.

“I’m - you’re a minor.” He pointed out, almost desperately. “You need a permit to cross international borders, signed by a parent or guardian.”

“… yeah.”

“Ellie, what did you do?” Ricky was this close from hiding his face behind his hands. He could already picture EJ’s face being drained of all color once he’d learn about all of this. The image was so familiar it hurt.

“I can’t tell if you’re mad or just very curious.” Ellie scratched behind her ear, attempting a complicit smile which Ricky shot down with a glare.

“Both. Tell me.”

“You know those pens you were testing, like QuickQuotes Quills that remember their owner so they can predict what they want to write?” Ellie looked sheepishly at Ricky, and suddenly the truth began to dawn on him.

“…yes.”

“Well, apparently, they remember a lot about their owners. If someone were to sign a document with one of those for example, and the pen was asked to reproduce the signature... if no one else touches the pen directly, it’s like EJ signed... I mean, the person…” Ellie babbled, gesturing nervously without meeting his eyes. She was acutely aware of the fact that this loophole she’d found was going to land her in such deep trouble she’d need a breathing spell not to drown under it. She was also clearly very proud of herself.

“I…” Ricky was definitely out of words.

“I think you’re impressed.” Ellie smiled hopefully.

“I think I’m going to have to work on these pens first thing tomorrow.” Ricky quickly replied. He was extremely impressed, but the last thing her ego needed was to know about it. She was still a Caswell, through and through. “How long have you been using this trick exactly?”

“Is there any chance that this could remain between us? Like, since you love me so much?” She batted her eyes at him, plastering a look of innocence on her face. Ricky tried his best not to laugh. There was one thing left to do now.

“Nice try. I’m going to call EJ, now. He’ll be crazy worried.”

He wasn’t looking forward to it, especially knowing that he would have to explain to him how Ellie had broken about twenty different laws in the span of twenty-four hours. But there was a part of him that was secretly glad he had such a perfect excuse to contact him, without either of them having to sacrifice their pride because of it. And as Ellie averted her eyes, trying to school her face into an expression of misery and regret, he realized that that must have been her plan all along.

He fished his modified muggle phone from the depths of his bag, turning it on for the first time.

Forty-five missed calls from EJ. Twenty had been made in the past ten hours or so, probably from the moment Hogwarts had notified him that Ellie was missing. But he’d also tried calling him every day since he’d left for New York. EJ hated being ignored: it was a miracle he hadn’t come knocking on his door after the third unanswered call, really.

Or maybe…

Or maybe Ricky’s silence had been speaking volumes, and EJ had learned to listen.

Ricky’s heart hammered against his chest as he pressed the call button beside EJ’s name on his very short list of contacts. If EJ was ready to listen, he could be ready to talk.

The rest, they would figure out together.  And for now, it was enough.

Halloween
Two years before

Ellie Caswell had learned a very important lesson during her years as Hogwarts’s resident troublemaker: if she needed to do something that was… not quite legal, so to speak, the best time to act was very early in the morning or during a feast. Those were usually the times when the castle would be empty, leaving her free to do whatever she needed to do without fear of meeting a prefect.

She checked behind the corner of the fifth-floor corridor, just to make sure that the way was clear. Alicia Coleman, a sixth year from Hufflepuff, had informed her about a stash of rare Aztec artifacts that Professor Vector had ordered from the Yucatán peninsula for N.E.W.T. level Arithmancy students, and she desperately wanted to get a peek. She hadn’t told anyone yet, and she planned on keeping her mouth shut until after she’d received her O.W.L. results in the summer, but she had made up her mind about her future after Hogwarts: she wanted to become a Cursebreaker and dig ancient magical artifacts out of potentially dangerous and never-before-seen magical sites around the world. So naturally, she was going to sneak into Professor Vector’s office and see for herself these Aztec relics Coleman had bragged about.

She was about to cross the corridor and sneak into the secret passage behind the Dancing Troll’s tapestry, when said tapestry moved to the side. Two figures came out of it, trying to keep quiet and looking around; Ellie retreated into the shadows, her heart thumping loudly.

What. The. Fuck.

“I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” Ricky whispered, glancing around the corridor. “Who are you and what did you do with EJ Caswell?”

EJ was wearing a dark traveling coat and slid his hand in Ricky’s to pull him towards the other end of the corridor.

“I have an excellent memory,” he said with a seraphic smile. “You showed me this exact secret passage when we were in school, remember?”

They disappeared behind the corner and Ellie followed them without thinking, making sure to stay hidden. Dozens of questions were running through her brain, making her forget all about the Aztecs. It couldn’t be a good sign if her brother, the Minister’s personal assistant, was breaking into Hogwarts without telling her about it, right? Had he brought Ricky along because of his encyclopedic knowledge of the castle’s secret passages? But Ricky seemed as clueless as she was…

Ellie saw EJ’s cloak disappear behind a corner and she was about to follow him, when something caught her sleeve, and she was held back. Ellie turned with a swift motion, wand already in her hand and ready to fire a Stunning Spell at her unknown aggressor.

“Cooper?” She hissed, when she recognized him. “The hell are you doing?”

Oliver Cooper fixed the Slytherin prefect badge on his uniform, his dark hair looking messier than usual.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he spat back, straightening his shoulders to emphasize the considerable number of inches that made him taller than her. “The Halloween feast not up to your standards?”

Ellie forced a taunting smile on her lips. Why did the universe hate her so much that every time her sneaking around school became of vital importance, Oliver would always find a way to interfere? She took one hateful glance at his prefect badge, the absence of it heavy on her own chest. She’d known she would never get it, not after her little trip to New York had almost gotten her expelled last spring; she didn’t even really want it, because she was much more inclined to breaking the rules rather than enforcing them. But she knew all too well the kind of prestige that came with being a prefect, especially in the eyes of someone like her brother. She wouldn’t have minded it.

“I wasn’t hungry,” she said, making a show of batting her eyelashes. “In fact, I was going up to my room. Wouldn’t want to keep you from your prefect duties, though.”

Oliver gave her an unimpressed look.

“You are my prefect duty, Caswell. The last time I caught you where you weren’t supposed to be, you ended up running to another continent and giving half the school a heart attack.” He pointed out. Ellie stared at him, knowing that they were both remembering how Oliver had found her in a state of semi-panic while she was trying to reach one of the secret passages that led to Hogsmeade, and how he’d eventually let her go when she’d told him what she was doing. Ellie had never really understood why Oliver seemed to care so much about her family, but she suspected it had something to do with his unwavering admiration for one of Slytherin’s most remarkable alumni. Maybe she could use it again to land herself out of trouble. The longer she stalled here, the harder it would be to find out what Ricky and EJ were up to.

“Listen, Oliver,” Ellie lowered her voice, and maybe it was just her impression, but his eyes appeared to soften when she called out his name. “My brother’s here. I don’t know what he’s doing, I don’t think anyone else knows, and I’m worried. You know who my brother works for, don’t you?”

Oliver studied her in silence for several seconds, his expression unreadable.

“What do you want to do?” He finally asked.

“Just see what he’s up to. Find out if there’s something going on.” Ellie said earnestly, looking him straight into his eyes. Finally, Oliver gave a curt nod.

“Okay.” He agreed; Ellie couldn’t believe her luck. “Let’s go then.”

“What?”

“I said, let’s go,” Oliver gave her a smile that made Ellie’s stomach twist uncomfortably. It was probably just the urge of cursing it off of his face. “There is no way I’m letting you out of my sight, El. Either I come with you, or Gryffindor loses thirty points.”

Ellie bit her tongue to avoid telling him where he could shove those thirty points. There were more pressing matters to attend to.

“Fine,” she hissed, marching down the corridor without waiting for him. “I hope you can keep up.”

Oliver followed her to the portrait of a fifteenth century wizard, who appeared to be busy cleaning a series of potion flasks.

“Good evening, Fergus,” she greeted him. “You haven’t seen two people around here in the past five minutes, have you?”

The ancient alchemist flashed her a smile, his canvas eyes glinting in the dim light of the torches.

“I might have,” he replied. “Why do you want to know?”

“You know, the usual,” Ellie sighed. “Uncovering secrets, not minding my business, finding interesting gossip you can use at the poker table of the portrait of the friars in the fourth-floor corridor…”

“That’s my girl,” Fergus the Alchemist grinned, setting down his spotless flasks. “They climbed the stairs. The curly one mentioned a special room, I believe?”

Ellie knew exactly what room Ricky was talking about.

“Thanks, Fergus!” She exclaimed, dashing towards a passage that led directly to the seventh floor. Oliver’s steps echoed after hers.

“What was that?” He panted. “Are you - are you friends with all of the portraits now?”

“Not all of them,” Ellie skipped two steps at a time of the narrow spiral staircase. “Just the ones that are useful.”

Oliver was stunned into silence, and Ellie proceeded until they found themselves in front of the empty passage where the door of the Room of Requirement would appear. She glanced at Oliver: was she really going to show him, the nosiest Slytherin prefect in the school, one of Hogwarts’s best allies to troublemakers? Well, she didn’t have much of a choice.

“What now?” Oliver cocked an eyebrow at her and Ellie was overcome for a second with the desire to impress him.

“Now you watch.” She said, starting to pace back and forth in front of the wall.

I need to see where Ricky and EJ went without them seeing me. I need to see where Ricky and EJ went without them seeing me. I need to see where Ricky and EJ went without them seeing me.

Oliver’s gasp told Ellie that it’d worked: she turned towards the wall, where a small door had appeared.

“How…”

“No time to explain now, let’s go.”

Ellie opened the door by just a few millimeters, assessing the situation. She heard EJ’s voice like it was coming from down below, so she slid through the door. Oliver and she had ended up on a tall balcony that ran around a big circular room; EJ and Ricky were standing in the middle, at least one floor below. Ellie crouched down behind the stone railing, listening intently.

“… tell me what’s going on?” Ricky was asking.

“I thought you would have guessed.” EJ’s voice was weirdly strained.

“El, I think this is private.” Oliver spoke quickly, tapping nervously on her shoulder.

“Shut up.” Ellie replied. She knew it was private, alright? But she wasn’t going to take any chances. If something was going on with Ricky and EJ, she wanted to be the first to know.

“I know I messed up last time.” EJ was saying to Ricky, “I know I was impatient, and you needed time and I didn’t understand that, so I nearly broke us. That’s why I want to do it different this time.”

“EJ…” Ricky’s words were caught in his throat, and it was only thanks to Oliver slapping a hand over Ellie’s mouth that she didn’t shout out in surprise.

EJ had bent down on one knee.

“I love you, Ricky,” EJ said, his voice shaking. “You’ve been my family, and Ellie’s family, for the past six years and I can’t even remember who I was before you. All I know is that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

EJ held out his hand, showing his wrist to Ricky. Ellie couldn’t really see past the veil of tears in her eyes, but whatever it was that EJ had shown him, it made Ricky’s voice crack.

“A hedgehog?” He said. “You got the hedgehog?”

“It’s smaller than yours,” EJ smiled. “But it’s there. It will always be there.”

“EJ…”

“Ricky Bowen,” EJ’s voice was shaking too, “If someone had told me, the first time you brought me to this room, that I’d be standing here almost seven years later asking you to marry me, I would have probably checked for a Confundus spell in action. But we’re here now, and I’m asking. Not next month, not even this year. When you’re ready. If you’re ready. What do you think?”

Ellie’s heart was racing in her chest, and even Oliver was waiting with his mouth hanging open for Ricky’s answer. Ricky who, as was expected, had tears running down his cheeks.

“I think you’re an idiot and a bit of a control freak,” he said, sniffling. “And I love you so much.”

Ellie wiped her eyes on her cardigan, looking away as the two fiancés threw their arms around each other. She hadn’t seen it coming, at all. She thought back to Easter, the blinding fear she’d felt when she thought they were about to break up, that she would lose her family to a rash decision about a country house like she’d lost her parents to some highly paid jobs for a foreign Ministry.

Happiness and relief didn’t quite depict the way she was feeling now.

“Come on,” Oliver’s voice whispered in her ear and he gently helped her to her feet, guiding her towards the door. Once they were back in the corridor, he summoned a silver handkerchief out of thin air and handed it to her without a word.

“That was quite unexpected, wasn’t it?” He said cheerfully, giving her the time to compose herself. “For me at least. I have to say, your brother has style.”

Ellie dabbed her eyes and vanished the handkerchief with a flick of her wand.

“What is it with you and my brother?” She asked, but there was no trace of her usual bite in her tone. She was too happy to fight with Oliver Cooper.

“He’s a legend among Slytherins,” Oliver shrugged, and didn’t look her in the eyes when he added, “And… He seems like a cool brother. Like he cares a lot about you.”

Ellie studied his defensive stance. Because he’d just witnessed EJ proposing to Ricky and had been nothing but graceful about it, Ellie decided not to ask him about any siblings of his own. She didn’t know much about the subject, but Oliver never talked about his Muggle family, and that couldn’t be a good sign.

“He does,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Thanks for not ratting me out, Oliver.”

“Again,” he smiled.

“Again.” Ellie conceded. “I hate saying this, but… I guess I owe you.”

Oliver hid his hands in his pockets, flashing her an amused look.

“Just promise me you’re not going to try to escape to America again.”

“Not without inviting you, you mean?” Ellie smiled back, and for a moment she was startled at her own words - was she flirting with Oliver? He barked out a laughter, and she felt her stomach churn uncomfortably again.

“Sure,” he said, starting to walk away. “I guess I’m your partner in crime, now.”

Ellie watched him disappear behind the corner, the words to a snarky reply caught in her throat. It was still early enough that she could sneak back into the Great Hall and perhaps enjoy the terrifying ghost show Flitwick had organized especially for the Halloween feast; or she could get back to the Arithmancy classroom and check out the Aztec artifacts she’d come for.

Instead, she sat on the floor, waiting for the door to reappear. If her brother had decided to propose on Halloween night of all nights, without telling her about it, well. She would teach him a scary lesson he wouldn’t forget.

(And then she would hug him and Ricky so hard they’d need a Banishing spell to get rid of her. Those sneaky smartasses.)

Valentine’s Day
Ten months before

“You know, I never thought we’d actually manage to do this,” EJ flicked his wand to send the floating lights all around the table they’d dragged out in the backyard, a couple of clever spells from Ricky making sure it was warm enough to eat outside even in the middle of February.

“I know, right?” Ricky joined him outside, a small flock of cutlery, plates and glasses following him to the table, where they placed themselves down in perfect order. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

EJ’s arms circled Ricky’s waist, pulling him close enough to steal a kiss. The sun had set hours before, and the night sky above their cottage in the middle of the Dorset countryside was dotted with an abundance of stars. It was an unusually clear night, and the view was nothing short of spectacular.

“That’s because we’re successful people,” EJ said, without a hint of modesty. “How does it feel, being in charge of the first independent branch of Wizardtech?”

“Stressful,” Ricky closed his eyes for a moment, his head still ringing with the hundreds of tasks he still had to organize for tomorrow’s work. “Not everyone is a workaholic like you, Mr. Youngest Vice-Minister.”

Ricky enjoyed watching EJ’s face light up like a Lumos spell every time he was addressed with his new work title. He was beyond proud of what EJ had accomplished in such a short time, and his main concerns were making sure he wouldn’t burn out before he’d reached thirty, and that he’d keep his ego in check. So far, the only real downside to their respective successful careers had been the drastic reduction to the time they got to spend together. They would usually get home, often way past dinnertime, heat up whatever leftover they could find in the fridge and then go straight to bed, often too tired to do anything other than gossip about their workday for a little while.

In the back of his mind, Ricky knew that EJ was still waiting for a proper answer to the question he’d popped in the Room of Requirement of all places, a little over a year before; but it was easy to set it aside, and tell himself that now it wouldn’t be a good time anyway, what with all the work they had. Ricky was stalling once again, and he wasn’t sure why.

“So,” EJ kissed him lightly on the lips, pulling him from his thoughts, “Do you need any help with dinner?”

Ricky gave him a sideways look.

“I mean,” he replied carefully, “Not if you actually want to eat…”

“Very funny,” EJ scoffed. “I got better, even your father said so the last time we went to dinner.”

“It would be hard to get any worse, though.” Ricky smirked, sneaking out of EJ’s grasp before his boyfriend could physically retaliate against him. “Just sit down, okay? I’m basically finished.”

He retreated into the kitchen, checking on the sauce he’d instructed the pan to cook. EJ was many things, but he wasn’t a cook. Ricky had had no problem taking it upon himself to prepare their Valentine’s dinner. They’d never particularly liked that holiday, but it wasn’t like they could afford to be picky with their quality time, these days.

What Ricky really wanted was a vacation. A long one, just the two of them, maybe away to a secluded island in the Caribbean Sea…  Ricky almost burned himself when he realized that what he was picturing sounded a lot like a honeymoon.

“Fuck,” he muttered, when the faint smell of a burnt sauce hit his nose. He quickly went over the stove to check on the damage, eyeing EJ’s silhouette against the window. An instant warmth spread inside his belly. It was quiet moments like this, when he could really appreciate EJ by himself, that he remembered how far they’d come, and how incredible it was that they’d overcome all the obstacles. It hadn’t always been easy, but in the end, they’d always been together.

Ricky was glad they could have this evening to celebrate that, under the glow of the stars.

“Coming!” He called out to EJ, flicking his wand towards the pot on the stove to make it fly towards the table on its own. “Don’t touch it, it’s still…”

Ricky’s words died in his throat. The fireplace in the middle of their living room had given out a few green sparks, and before he could fully comprehend what was happening, a full blazing green fire lacerated the darkness.

“What the fuck?” Ricky muttered, standing in the middle of his living room. There was only one other house that had a direct link to their personal fireplace, and using that connection without asking permission first was basically like knocking down their door and barging in. If Gina or Nini were using the Floo Network this late on Valentine’s day of all days, it could only mean trouble was underway.

“What’s going on?” EJ stormed back inside, wand already out. A body emerged from the flames and tumbled on their carpet, but Gina was back up on her feet before either of them could help her up.

“Gina?” Ricky whispered. She wasn’t wearing her Auror uniform, but the stony look in her eyes made it clear that she wasn’t coming in with good news. She glanced for a moment at the table outside, set and ready for a dinner that it would never see.

“I’m sorry to intrude like this,” she said in a clipped, pragmatic tone. “There’s been an accident.”

It was the kind of news Ricky dreaded every night before he went to bed, the kind of thought he could never really shake. Even before Gina explained what happened, he already felt the ground disappear beneath his feet.

“What happened?” EJ, ever the cold-blooded politician, wrapped an arm around Ricky.

“It’s Seb,” Gina explained. “He was bitten by a venomous specimen that hadn’t been treated correctly. They’ve taken him to Saint Mungo but… it’s not looking good.”

Ricky felt like throwing up. Seb was one of the best herbologists he knew, and in the years he’d spent working at his family’s Apothecary, he’d never had a problem, even when working with the most exotic plants. Ricky knew it well, because he’d often consulted him for new substances to experiment with at Weasley Wizard Wheezes, before he specialized in the tech branch.

“What’s Nini’s take?” EJ asked, tightening his hold against Ricky.

“She doesn’t know much,” Gina shook her head defiantly, “When Carlos told her the name of the plant, she went all white in the face and flooed to Saint Mungo’s immediately, but they won’t let her in ‘cause he’s already being treated.”

“Okay,” EJ squeezed Ricky’s arm. “Let’s go, then.”

Ricky had always liked Saint Mungo’s more than any Muggle hospital he’d ever visited, because its dark wooden walls had always had a comforting sense to them. Now that he was packed into a small waiting room with all of his friends and half of Seb’s siblings, the only thing he felt was suffocation.

Nini came in and out, hair messily gathered in a ponytail as she ran all around the hospital to find at least one of her colleagues that would let her in. Gina and EJ were trying to calm Carlos down, but with scarce results: Seb’s parents and his older brother had been allowed in his room, given how severe his conditions were. They wouldn’t let Carlos through, though. A Healer in a lime coat stood by the door like a guard, apparently insensitive to any pleading. All of Nini’s knowledge of the hospital’s procedures and EJ’s political influence had served nothing to sway her from the simple protocol that only family members were allowed. And it didn’t matter that Carlos had been Seb’s boyfriend since their fourth year at Hogwarts: legally, he wasn’t family. Which meant he couldn’t hold his boyfriend’s hand as Seb battled an exotic venom for his life, just down the corridor.

“I’m gonna fucking sue them,” Carlos growled, sobbing in his chair. “They can’t, they can’t, I have to see him!”

Ricky watched from a corner, Big Red silent beside him. He’d never felt more powerless. He couldn’t help anyone: not Seb, who was perfectly fine the last time he’d seen him and now may not ever come out of that room again; not Carlos, whose pain Ricky couldn’t even begin to imagine.

“I’m stepping outside for a second.” He muttered to Big Red, slipping out of the room and in the corridor by himself. Ricky leaned back against the wooden panels of the walls, angling his neck towards the ceiling as if he could will his tears back. That was the only thing he could do: cry his eyes out. And it wasn’t useful to anyone.

Desperate to find a distraction to focus on, Ricky started counting all the torches on the walls, that spread a dim greenish light all over the corridor. A clock between torch nine and ten told him that it was midnight, meaning that they’d been there for over four hours already. It wasn’t Valentine’s Day anymore.

He didn’t know how long had passed when he heard the door of the room creaking open, and EJ slipped outside beside him. He looked as distressed and tired as he imagined himself to appear right now; still, just the sight of him made Ricky feel a little better.

“News?” Ricky heard his voice say without his command. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. EJ nodded slowly, a small, tentative smile on his lips.

“He’ll make it.” He whispered, almost not believing his own words. “Nini managed to get in and she just told us… it was close, but he’ll be fine.”

Ricky didn’t know who had hugged who first, but for once his tears weren’t the only ones falling.

“What a night, eh?” Ricky croaked when they’d both calmed down and EJ had conjured a couple of handkerchiefs for the both of them. He felt like he’d just dismounted a very fast carousel.

“Most unforgettable Valentine, that’s for sure.” EJ joked, sniffling, and Ricky laughed.

“It got quiet though - did they finally let Carlos in?”

“Yeah, Seb’s mum had to beg that monster of a Healer, but she finally allowed him in.” EJ’s face contorted in a mask of disgust. “And they said he’ll probably make a full recovery but won’t be out of here anytime soon.”

The thought of what almost happened ran in a shiver down Ricky’s spine, and out of instinct he hugged EJ closer, burying his nose in the crook of his neck. His smell was familiar and comforting.

“Shit. That’s - that’s terrifying, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. But he’ll be fine.” EJ hugged him closer, pressing his lips on Ricky’s forehead. They stood in silence for a minute, holding each other like Carlos and Seb couldn’t do now, and Ricky wondered if they were thinking the same thing.

“I know, but what if… I mean, we were just having dinner, and we thought Seb was fine, we thought everyone was fine, but then he wasn’t and… and what if he’d…?” Ricky knew he wasn’t making much sense, but he didn’t know how else to express the panic, the unpredictability, the innate danger of life. Of loving someone, when you knew you could lose them at any given moment, and it was completely out of anyone’s control.

“He’ll be fine, Ricky.” EJ cupped his face into his hands, looking him in the eyes. “Seb will be perfectly fine, don’t torture yourself over something that didn’t and isn’t going to happen.”

“But it could.” Ricky protested, “And what if Seb… And Carlos couldn’t even be there for him.”

“I know, that’s…”

“I don’t want that to be us.” Ricky looked back into EJ’s eyes, his voice finally steady. “Like, ever. I was trying to comfort Carlos and I kept thinking, what if it was you instead of Seb and I couldn’t even see you? What if you were hurting there and maybe Ellie had to go all by herself and I had to stay back like I meant nothing just because we don’t have a piece of paper that says we’re a family?”

EJ stared back, and Ricky realized he was holding his breath.

“Ricky, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I don’t want to wait anymore.” Ricky grasped EJ’s hands: there was never a good time, and this was probably the worst of them all. But he’d just witnessed that time was volatile, and theirs could be cut short any moment. He refused to waste another second. “Godric, I can’t believe I’ve been waiting so long. I want to get married, EJ.”

The anxiety he’d felt every time he’d thought about saying this had disappeared, replaced by a single certainty. A certainty that looked like EJ and had been standing by his side for the past seven years.

“Ricky, wait.” EJ’s eyes were wide “Hey, just tell me… Are you sure?”

“‘Course I am.” Ricky bit his bottom lip, caught by a sudden fear. “Why? You… you haven’t changed your mind, have you?”

EJ’s eyes were still red and a little blotchy when he shook his head to reassure him.

“I’ve made up my mind three years ago, Ricky. But are you sure you’ve thought this through? Are you sure you’re not just saying this because you got scared for what happened tonight and you’re not ready for this?”

Ricky was aware that this kind of public displays were out of place in a hospital, especially since they were so close to the place where one of their best friends had almost died. But he knew Seb, and he knew he’d be happy to know that there was a little more love in the world. So, he kissed EJ, trying to make him see what he couldn’t express with words. They emerged breathless, a little incredulous.

“I am a hundred percent sure.” Ricky said. “I think I’ve known this for a while and I was just, you know how I am, I was just scared of saying it, scared of making the change. But I am so sure that I love you, and that the idea of someone keeping me from you is too intolerable to even think about. If that doesn’t mean that I want to marry you then I don’t know what does.”

EJ grinned, wiping Ricky’s tears away from his cheek.

“I love you too. And I can’t wait to get married.”

Ricky kissed him again, for good measure.

“Whenever you want is fine with me.” He said breezily. “Tomorrow, even, we can just get Ellie out for the day and… what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

EJ’s look was between outraged and murderous.

“Are you out of your mind?” He exclaimed. “We’re not getting married tomorrow!”

“Why not? I thought you wanted this done as soon as possible.”

“I do.” EJ sighed, looking to Ricky as if he was a not particularly bright five years old “But I’ve waited almost two years - we’re doing this right.”

Ricky chuckled: he should have expected it.

“Okay then. So, do you have a date in mind or…?”

EJ hugged him closer, looking at him with something that Ricky could only describe as adoration before kissing him again.

“Actually - yes. I do.”

New Year’s Eve
Today

The glow of the sunset tinged the snow in a warm orange color, and all the guests appeared like black silhouettes against the blaze of the fading light. From their vantage point over the hill that looked down on the backyard of their countryside house, EJ and Ricky broke apart from the first kiss they’d managed to exchange since the ceremony had ended.

They had been swept away by guests, hugging friends and family, dancing with pretty much everyone they knew. Even Mr. and Mrs. Caswell had greeted Ricky without the usual hint of distaste, when they’d approached the newlyweds (although EJ suspected that their unusual kindness had something to do with the presence of a delegation of high-ranking Ministry officials, and his parents’ obsession with networking).

“We did it, eh?” EJ instinctively fixed the knot on Ricky’s tie that had begun to come undone, then pulled him forward for another kiss.

“Who would have thought?” Ricky laughed.

From the top of the hill, they looked down at their wedding party. Their whole world had merged into their backyard: EJ’s Ministry officials and Ricky’s colleagues from WWW; EJ’s parents from France and Ricky’s mom from Chicago; Ricky’s dad, who was dancing with Miss Jenn. Seb and Carlos were trying to teach Ashlyn and Big Red how to waltz, and Gina and Nini were sharing a private laugh over two cups of elfic wine, in the secluded world they had been building for themselves for years, without anyone noticing. Ellie was dancing with Oliver Cooper, the newest addition to their weird extended family, and the sight earned EJ’s nod of approval.

“I knew it was going to happen.” He whispered in Ricky’s ear, holding his husband close. “I like that guy.”

“I don’t think anything has happened yet,” Ricky pointed out, “They’re just dancing.”

The two of them watched down on the crowd in silence, enjoying those moments of privacy before someone would inevitably come and call for them.

“Isn’t it a bit crazy to think that all of these people are here for us?” Ricky marveled. “Look. My father has just made a toast with the Minister of Magic. It’s so surreal.”

“It’s just life, I think.” EJ laughed. “Sometimes I think about us, together, and… that’s a bit surreal, too.”

“We were all but inevitable.” Ricky pointed out. Their wedding vows had made it clear: both of them knew the work to get there had been hard. Neither of them was afraid of the challenges they were walking into, together.

“Yeah. It’s been quite a journey, hasn’t it? But I’d do it all again, if it means ending up here.” EJ’s fingers slipped into Ricky’s, and the last rays of sunlight reflected on the identical gold bands that circled their fingers. Ricky held on tightly, guiding him down the snowy hill back to the party.

“Ending?” He said, glancing up towards the glimmer of the first stars. “I think we’ve only just begun.”