Chapter Text
Barty always loved the smell of old books and ink that greeted him every time he walked into the antique shop in Diagon Alley. He was obsessed with the way the smells from the cafe next door seemed to waft through the walls and wrap the small shop in warm bread and espresso cups, and he found an odd comfort in the strangely assorted keys that always managed to find their way into his possession.
This one particular day, the wind was biting at his ears and nose more harshly than normal and he was glad to hear the tinkling of the bells hung on the door as it swung closed behind him. The shop’s resident, a scruffy little cat that the owner always claimed wasn’t hers, came to greet him, purring as it rubbed against his legs, hoping for a scratch or two. Or five. Minutes, that is, not scratches.
After their designated greeting time, Barty wandered through the shop, both not really looking at anything and observing everything at the same time. Most of it was the same, after all, since new donations didn’t come in too often. Most people tended to throw away their heirlooms to some big charity company rather than caring to give them to places that will ensure others will take actually good care of them.
“Hey Barty! Been looking for you dear.” He turned at the voice, a charming smile already on his face.
“Afternoon Miss Pomfrey! The wind is total madness and the bus was late today, sorry for the delay.”
“No no, none of that sorry bullshit.” Miss Pomfrey came out from the back, a very colorful curtain separating the store from the small office she had. To do paperwork and taxes in, Barty had always assumed. “Just wondered if you’d been up too late again last night and fell right into bed the moment you stepped foot in your dorm.”
Barty laughed, a light sound that she seemed to enjoy hearing. “And miss our weekly meeting? I don’t think so.”
“Well you’re in luck this week.” Miss Pomfrey smiled, laugh lines around her eyes crinkling with the familiar expression. “Some poor chap died and his family donated his entire collection.”
“Of?”
“Keys.”
Miss Pomfrey laughed when she saw his face absolutely light up and he clapped his hands excitedly. Barty had quite the collection of keys, you see, and had bought nearly every single one Pomfrey had ever sold since opening her little shop almost three years ago.
If anyone had asked Barty what his obsession with keys was–and a few people had–he would tell them that he liked to try and use them to open locked doors just because he could. He really just liked the look of them though, not that he’d tell anyone that. It sounded stupid.
Half an hour later, Barty’s messenger bag was filled with an assortment of antique keys as he waved goodbye to Miss Pomfrey and left the shop. Content, he began his walk home, humming as he went.
A buzz from his phone and a quick scan of his messages had him sprinting down the street. Shit, shit, shit. He’d forgotten about the extra rugby practice tonight. Barty couldn’t afford to be late, he was already close to probation from the team if he couldn’t get his attendance under control.
It wasn’t his fault really. He didn't have any time to visit his mom other than on Tuesdays and Fridays, and if that meant he was a bit late to practice, so be it. It’s not like his father was visiting her anyway. Someone had to. And besides, his mom was amazing. She always looked so happy when he showed up to see her.
“Sorry I’m late Coach!” Barty yelled across the field, running into the locker room to get changed. Since the whole team was on the pitch, he didn't expect to see anyone in there, least of all their star player.
“Hey Barty!” James Potter, the captain himself, was sitting on the bench in the locker room.
“James, what are you doing in here?”
“Waiting for you.” He stretched his arms up, the edge of his stupidly perfect abs showing where his jersey rode up. “Regulus was worried but since Coach is thinking of promoting him to co-captain, I told him to go ahead and I’d wait up.” James shrugged with a grin. “Besides, it’s not like I’m gonna get demoted or anything.”
“You’re so full of yourself.” Barty stripped off his shirt and rummaged around in his bag for his jersey. I know I put it in here. “And before you say it, because I can hear your idiotic thoughts, no, I am not full of you too.”
James laughed. “You know me too well baby.” Barty rolled his eyes but smiled. He knew all about being full of James. “Anyways, I figured you could use a bit of a heads-up. Coach is on a rampage today. All drills and conditioning.” Barty groaned as he changed his pants, purposely flashing James just because he could.
“Thanks for the warning babycakes.” Barty turned to face James, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Let's go out then.”
“I’m going out with Regulus, Barty, I can’t go out with you.”
“Go out to practice, you idiot.” James grinned and held the door open for Barty, who slapped his ass as he passed. Walking towards the pitch together, Barty sighed at the sight of the team on the ground in a line doing pushups.
It was going to be hell.