Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I could bring you, you know. Only if you want me to, of course.

The words of his…of the man that had shown up at his hospital bed and claimed to be his father still echoed in Henry’s mind as he got off the train in God knows where Czechia.

You want to ship me of to some brooding school where I am out of the way and you don’t have to deal with me.

Henry had not said that. He had just gotten onto the train in King’s Cross and hoped that all his connections worked out.

Radzig had given him a cautious wave, but Henry had pretended not to see him.

Radzig was not his father, not matter what he claimed, his parents were dead, and all he had left of them was the cross he hid under the blue shirt, that was far too thin for the weather.

Grey clouds hung heavy in the afternoon sky as he stepped outside the small train station and a strong wind ruffled his brown hair, cutting into his skin like knives.

Radzig had wanted to buy him new clothes, but he had refused, only picking up the necessities when Theresa came to visit a week after he had gotten out of the hospital. With his own money.

They walked around London with no plan for a couple of hours ending in some park with some sandwiches and drinks form Sainsbury's. Meal deals were the best.

“Are you sure that you want to go?”

“It is not like I have a choice. He is my father after all. Apparently.”

“You could stay with me and my uncle. We have space.”

Theresa had gotten discharged a lot earlier than Henry had been and promptly moved to Liverpool to live with her uncle, who, by all her accounts, was an alright guy.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“But why not?”

There were a couple of teenagers his age loitering about, kicking a football about as if waiting for something.

“Are you going to the Academy?” Henry asked a boy with brown hair, that had just passed the ball to another guy.

“You bet we are. You’re new?”

Henry nodded.

“Thought so, we don’t get many new guys your age. Olda.” The guy with the football, Olda, offered him a hand and Henry shock it.

“Henry. What are the new guys usually like?”

“Fourteen and annoying,” Olda sighed.

“I am definitely not fourteen.”

Olda chuckled at that. “You would be a very buff fourteen-year-old. Do you want to play?”

One of Olda’s friends had passed him the ball again and he kicked it in Henry’s direction.

“Sure.” Henry dropped his backpack onto the pile of others under the street light and kicked the ball to another person in the circle, like he used to with Fritz, Matthew and Matthias before…

Henry missed the ball and it hit the wall behind him.

“You are no goalie, but you could join the team,” Olda perked up and caught the ball before it could roll onto the street. “Maybe then we will finally win.”

“You keep saying that like we are a hopeless case. We got to the finals like three times in the last four years.” Another friend of Olda’s chimed in.

“But we never won,” Olda winded, “And I’d like to do that at least once.”

“I am usually better,” Henry took the ball and passed along again. “I usually don’t go on 15-hour train rides, so…”

“15!? Where did you come from?” Olda asked, almost losing the ball himself.

“Skalitz…London,” he corrected himself, “I came from London.”

“England? What are you doing here then?”, Olda asked with justified curiosity, “And why didn’t you fly?”

“My mum is from around here. She moved to England. And I have never flown somewhere and was not going to start now.”

Navigating an airport sounded daunting and Henry would rather fight with the train system than be in a metal box however high in the air.

“Your Czech is good for not growing up here.” Olda passed him the ball.

“We spoke it at home a lot,” Henry explained and could feel his stomach rumbling. “By the way…Do you know if there will be dinner when we get there?”

“Yes, there will be,” Olda sighed as if he couldn’t wait himself. “You must be quite hungry after 15 hours travel.”

“I could eat a horse.”

The bus drive was another hour, which Henry spent asleep leaning against the cold window of the bus, while the other boys were chattering around him.

Suchdol Academy for boys was off in the mountains somewhere, where thick forests with beech and tall spruces and old oaks ran supreme and you were lucky to have reception, as Olda had told him, which Henry was glad about in some way, when it meant an excuse not to reply to Radzig’s “Have you arrived safely?”, but not when it came to his message to Theresa not going through, which he had sent off when he had gotten onto the bus.

The old castle was already in view when a pothole shook Henry out of his sleep.

On the right-hand side of the road was a thick forest that seemed to come back around to the castle except for the lake where the river hit the moat.

In front of the gate house, where two roads crossed, was an open field on which some boys were already playing football. Apparently, there was no better thing to do here.

Olda was off as soon as he got out of the bus, running over to meet the guys in the field, one of which – an older looking blond boy – padded him on the back with such force that he almost fell over, which another, dark-haired boy, that carried himself with a certain authority, scoffed at.

Over the gate was the crest of the school carved into the stone. Three black oak leaves on a yellow field. Underneath hung the banner: Audaces fortuna iuvat.

“Henry Smith!”

A couple of the boys winced at the scream and turned their heads. Great. Now everyone was going to know who he was.

An older looking bald man with a dark beard came walking towards him with a mission.

“Here comes the Captain,” one of the boys whispered, but before Henry could ask what the other meant by that, the surprisingly buff looking old man signalled Henry to follow him and turned back towards the castle so fast that Henry had to run to keep up with him.

“I am Bernard Oleshna, but for you it is Captain Bernard. I am the head teacher and I will show you to your room.”

Slow down old man, Henry thought but didn’t say, as there was probably a high chance the man was just going to throw him into the moat that surrounded the castle at all sides if he stepped out of line or was not fast enough, as Captain Bernard looked like he would rather be anywhere else then showing Henry to his room, which…didn’t they have other teachers for that?

“Here we go.”

They were in the western tower, that overlooked the woods and the lake. The afternoon light was hitting the old, wooden floorboards, the white wall and the about half dozens of moving cartons that were stacked on one side of the room.

The room was about as big as his living room at home had been, two beds, one under the window and the other against the wall, with two desks and two closets on the right-hand side of the door Captain Bernard was still standing in and then another, less medieval looking door that hopefully led to a bathroom. Henry needed to shower.

“Dinner is at seven. If you need to wash something, the machines are in the basement.” The Captain gave him a brochure. “Since you and your roommate are both new here, I am sure you will help each other get around.”

What kind of logic was that?

Henry did not say anything and threw his backpack onto the bed next to the bathroom that was not surrounded by boxes.

“Radzig said you had nothing you wanted to send ahead.”

The way the Captain said his…father’s name sounded a bit too familiar, Henry thought and could feel curious eyes of the older man on him as he opened one of the closets, that contained a school uniform.

White shirts with the black and yellow school logo on the breast pocket, black slacks, black tie and vest, a black blazer with yellow strips at the wrists and collar, a black cardigan and pullover with the same stripes, a sweater vest with the reverse and a black and yellow scarf.

“You know Radzig?” Henry did not turn to face the headteacher and flipped the sleeve of the white button-down over in his hand.

“He went to school here too. This was his room.”

Henry froze for a second, before he let go of the sleeve that had gotten all crumpled up in his fist and closed the closet again. The click of the lock deafening. “No. I had nothing to send ahead.”

Of course, Radzig sent him to a place where he could keep an eye on him, so he would know that he did not bring shame to his name or whatever.

“If you say so, boy,” the Captain sighed and turned to leave. “Don’t forget: Dinner at seven.”

The heavy door fell closed behind him, the key he had used to open it now heavy in Henry’s hand, adding to the meagre list of things he possessed.

It was hard to send things ahead when everything you ever owned had been destroyed, ripped from you together with the life you had known and be changed forever.

The only thing that was really his was the cross around his neck and that had been a gift. First from his pa to his mum and then to him. The cold silver was all that was left of his family and it weighed a tone around Henry’s neck.

I need air, Henry thought and opened one of the of the windows leading out to the lake.

His room was a corner room. The desk that was probably his – looking at its location at the foot of the empty bed – had a window that led towards the woods, while the corner window over the other bed and desk – the one that was caged in by boxes – led over the lake.

It was nice.

The lake laid still before him. A deer drinking from the water lifted its head before dashing off into the woods as a dog came to the shore. With its brown and white spots, it was quite well hidden in the woods, but Henry could still make the animal out as it drank from the lake.

Was it a stray? No. That couldn’t be it. Not this far out. Must be the groundskeeper’s dog.

He watched on as the dog disappeared into the woods again and soaked up the smelled of damp soil and fading sunlight and prayed that his roommate would be civil, before the big clock in the other tower reminded him of the time and he followed the flood of other boys to the dining room.

Henry ended up next to a pair of roommates, who seemed more like brothers than friends in the way they were teasing each other.

On of them, Michael, constantly tried to practice his Italian which no one at the table understood and his roommate, George, was rather interested what kind of music Henry liked and if he played any instruments.

“I am rather…musically impaired.” He would not call his…singing – if you could call it singing – when he and his friends got sloshed, good, and in music class he could not tell a note from the other.

“Ach.” George dismissed his words like Henry had just told him there was no more pudding for dinner. “You just haven’t found the right instrument yet.”

“Trying to recruit someone for that band of yours again?” Olda had appeared behind Henry, who really was not in the mood for whatever this was turning into.

This seemed to be an ongoing affair, judging by the look on Michael and George’s faces, when Olda sat down next to Henry. A mixture of annoyance and disappointment.

“You know this guy, Henry?” Michael asked turning his nose up, as if Olda had disrespected his granny the last time they met and was not worth even looking at.

“Oh yes. He is going to join the team, so he is too busy for your little club of two, sorry,” Olda replied for Henry, who was too tired to deal with this shit. He was not about to be a pawn in their little dispute.

“Good night, gentleman. I have been awake for over twenty-four hours and I need to shower.” Henry did not even wait for the others to shake off their confusion at his sudden departure and say their goodbyes, before he got up and left.

Rich people were weird…but he was probably going to join the football team rather than the band, that would at least keep his mind off things.

Either his roommate had still not arrived when he came back to his room or he was at dinner himself, but the boxes still seemed unmoved and Henry half hoped that they would just sit there for the whole year never to be opened.

He was not particularly keen on sharing a room with a stranger.

Henry grabbed a one of the towels the school had provided him with and his wash kit and went to the bathroom, a small, windowless room, with a shower-tub-combo and a heater next to the sink.

The water pressure was surprisingly good and the water surprisingly warm for a building this old, but if the tuition is God knows what high, then at least the plumbing had to be good.

When Henry got out of the bathroom the sun had fully set and he had to turn on the lamp on his night stand to see anything. He reached for is phone first – the messages to Theresa had still not gotten though – and then for his mum’s cross, which he had left on the night stand.

The sleeping quarters had gone quiet since Henry stepped into the shower. Everyone seemed tired from move-in day and therefore no one dared to be loud, which Henry was glad for. He just wanted to sleep. Breakfast was at eight tomorrow morning and it was past ten already.

Henry rubbed his brown hair, that surels looked like a mess but he did not care, dry one last time, and was about to fall into his bed, when he heard keys at the door and froze.

Who…?

The heavy door swung open, revealing a blond guy that walked in like he owned the place and had never worked a day in his life for it. He was a bit taller than Henry and quite lean. Despite his atrocious, golden shirt, the guy looked at least like he could hold his own in a fight or at least run away fast enough to not get caught.

Without a word to Henry, who still stood frozen next to his bed, the blond walked over to the other one and fell into it.

Henry could smell something on the blond as he walked past him, but was not quite…Was that alcohol?

Please don’t say this prick is my roommate, Henry thought and watched the other take of his sunglasses that looked more expensive than all the clothes that Radzig wanted to buy for him and that he had refused combined.

„You are my roommate, I take.“ Blondie gave him a once over, not even bothering to sit up properly, blue eyes lingering on the silver cross around his neck for a second too long, before reaching Henry’s face. „What a way to greet a Lord.”

A Lord? What in the seven hells is this?

His roommate fell back into his bed.” Put some clothes on, would you?“

Your shirt is so far unbuttoned I can practically see your bellybutton, you…Henry bit back an insult and pulled one of the shirts over his head he had brought on his “spree” with Theresa.

„Lord?“ he asked and straightened out the light blue fabric, before turning to the Blondie again. „I only see a brat.“

Who wore gold anyway? A golden shirt, really? Silk too, if Henry had to guess – Theresa would know – and judging from the smell that came from his roommate’s side of the room it was covered in booze. Who let this guy in here?

„Brat?“ The blond practically shot up and gave Henry another once over, as if he was searching for something.

„You can’t come up with something better…,” There was a glint in those blue eyes, that Henry did not like at all.”…British boy?“

„How…?“

The blond laid back on the bed, closed his eyes and crossed his arms behind his head, as if he wanted to sleep in jeans and his fancy shirt.

„Tag. Bottom right corner of your shirt“, was all he had to say for an explanation and Henry ripped the M&S tag from the bottom of the shirt, which he had apparently forgotten, and when he looked up the bastard in the other bed was already sleeping soundly, shoes and all.

Please let this be a mistake, Henry prayed, I don’t want to live with a guy for a year that sleeps in booze-soaked silk shirts.

Obviously, no one came running in, to apologise for the drunkard that had wandered in and to drag the blond back out and Henry was just done with whatever this was and went to bed too. He could deal with this tomorrow. Maybe he could change roommates with someone. Olda seemed pleasant and he could listen to his football induced rants no problem.

Chapter Text

The sound that woke Henry was so grating that he thought for a second his ears would explode. The disorienting sound of a phone alarm had Henry almost falling out of his bed and questioning his reality.

He had woken up in a couple of unfamiliar rooms over the last couple months. First the hospital with the beeping machines that made sure he wouldn’t die too. Then his other hospital room, with the flowers on the windowsill Theresa had left there before she was discharged. Then his room in Radzig’s London house, that was still as empty as it had been when he moved in. And now his dorm room which he shared with the blond prick that was not woken up by his own phone alarm and just kept on snoring. Loudly.

With a groan Henry drew his pillow over his head and pressed it over his ears, but that did nothing. He took a deep breath, cursed the blond three times in his mind and then threw his pillow blindly at his roommate, hitting him in the face and finally waking him up.

„What the…Oh, for fuck’s sake!“ Blondie reached for his phone and turned the alarm off, no, it was not an alarm, it was a phone call.

Henry did not care what it had been as long as it was turned off. He fell face first into his mattress and tried to go back to sleep. Getting up seemed like too much of a chore right now.

„Yes, I have not run away yet, Uncle Hanush. No, I cannot guarantee that I will not try at the first opportunity. A good morning to you too.” With a scoff, his roommate turned off his phone and fell back into his bed, the blank mattress shifting beneath him.

For a second it was quiet, but then the bell tower made itself know again.

Ding

Ding

Ding

Ding

Ding

Ding

Ding

Seven am. Breakfast would be in an hour. No use trying to go back to sleep now.

Begrudgingly, Henry sat up and reached for his phone. His messages to Theresa had still not gotten through. Was there not a single bit of reception in this whole school? He would have to ask Olda about it. Or Michael and George. That would probably be better. He was not on the mood to talk about football just yet. Or his roommate, because his phone seemed to be working just fine

With a groan, he sat up and went into the bathroom, while the blond had seemingly fallen asleep again.

While brushing his teeth, his brain finally woke up enough to realise I don’t even know the fucker’s name that is sleeping in the same room as me.

When he finished up in the bathroom and stepped back into the room, his roommate had proceeded to cling to his pillow like it was his favourite plushy and had made no effort to get up. He looked kind of cute with his light hair fanned out over the old mattress, if you ignored the smell and the atrocious fashion choices.

“You really are dead to the world, aren’t you?” Henry sighed and decided to let him sleep a bit longer, while he got dressed.

He opted for just one of the button-downs with the black tie over the slacks, because he could not be bothered with anything more elaborate. Was he going to get dress-coded on the first day for not tucking his shirt in? Maybe. Did he care? Not particularly. What was the worst they could do? Give him detention so he would be stuck here? He was stuck here anyway.

At seven thirty, after walking around the whole room multiple times to get a signal, Henry decided it was finally time to wake the sleeping beauty that was snoring like he was taking down the whole forest.

“Hey…you.” Henry poked the blond in the side, but he just turned over.

“Jitka,” the blond groaned and buried his face in Henry’s pillow, which Henry had already given up  on getting back. “Leave me be. I want to sleep.”

“Hey man.” Henry took the pillow that rested at the end of the blond’s bed and the pillowcase and threw it on his bed, because at this point the blond might as well keep his. “I don’t know who Jitka is but breakfast is in half an hour and…”

“Breakfast!?” As if stung by a bee, the blond shot up in his bed, suddenly alert, and almost gave Henry  a heart attack.

“Yeah, breakfast, so get in the bathroom and get dressed, before the other boys eat everything before we get there. I am Henry, by the way.” He offered the blond a hand, who was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Hans Capon, Lord of Pirkstein, Heir to Rattay.”

Henry held back a chuckle as they shook hands. “So, you really are a Lord?”

“You bet I am,” Hans insisted.

What had Henry expected? The tuition to this place was probably more than he could have earned in a whole year working his odd jobs all around Skalitz. Of course, Lords and what not were here.

“Was a bit hard to believe when you stumbled into my room drunk last night and called me a peasant or maybe that was in character for a Lord, I would not know.”

“I was not drunk,” Hans insisted again and crossed his arms in front of his – thanks to his three-quarters unbuttoned shirt – partially exposed chest.

“Well, you still smell like you are,” Henry shrugged and went back to his bed to look at the time. “You have twenty-five minutes.”

“Oh, fuck.” Hans scrambled to one of the boxes and ripped it open, only to go on to the next when he did not find what he needed. It took him ten minutes to find what looked like a toiletry bag, and to open the bathroom door.

“Really? No windows? You would think the tuition would pay for better accommodation.”

Henry could not complain. He thought the room was pretty nice, all things considered.

“Just think of the ventilation. Probably mildew beneath those tiles.”

“Eighteen minutes,” was all Henry said, already feeling quite hungry.

“For Christ’s sake!” Hans groaned, frustrated, and finally got over himself. He did not have time for a shower, but at least he did not smell like a distillery anymore when he entered Henry’s field of vision again. His hair was perfectly styled and he was wearing the yellow sweater west without a tie and his sunglasses sitting in the loose collar, as if he expected the sun to appear in the hazy morning sky any second. Summed up: Hans looked very punchable.

They made their way to the dining room without incident and still got some pancakes from Bozhena, the kind, old lady that somehow managed to cook for all of the teenage boys that attended Suchdol Academy.

Henry found Olda again and walked over to him, with Hans trailing behind him, who also seemed a bit lost. The dining room was a bit much, to be fair. It was loud with all the boys catching up with old friends and surprisingly, the tapestries on the walls  did not do a lot to swallow the sound.

“Hey there, Henry.” Olda scooted a bit to the side so there was more space for Henry and Hans. “And…”

“Hans Capon.” Hans shook Olda’s hand, before he sat down next to Henry.

“Olda Semine.”

There wasn’t really any space left on the bench, but they managed with knees bumping together and Henry was too busy with his breakfast to care if Olda or Hans elbowed him in the side a couple of times or not.

Everything was fine until Hans spoke up: “Could you keep your hands to yourself, you peasant? I am still quite tired and would like to have my breakfast in peace.”

Peasant.

That word again.

Henry swallowed his pancakes and turned to look Hans in the face, elbowing him in the process, which was maybe on purpose. “Why would you be drinking on the day we are supposed to move in? Maybe if you weren’t hungover, you would not be so pissy?”

Hans only scoffed as Henry took a demonstrative bite of his pancakes. “Listen here. First of all: I was not drunk. Second of all: This might be the nicest place you ever lived, but some of us don’t want to be in the middle of fucking nowhere, so excuse me if I do not want to be here and listen to you inhale your breakfast like a…”

“I go to this school too, you know,” Henry cut him off. His parents would not have been able to afford to send Henry here, but that did not give Hans the permission to disrespect his mother’s house like that.

Their house had been way nicer than this old castle. This was probably home to Hans. As a Lord he would probably have grown up in castles like this, but still: Henry did not give a rat’s arse about who Hans was. He was a bloke like any other, even if his parents had blue blood.

“You are no better than me.” Henry was about to go back to his fantastic pancakes – he had to complement Bozhena on them sometime – when Hans spoke up again.

“You wear a Marks and Spencer shirt. I wear designer. This school uniform is probably the nicest thing your parents can afford.”

Now he had really done it.

Henry smashed his roommate’s face in his porridge and for a second everything was silent. Olda and his friends were deathly quiet as they watched Hans wipe the oats out of his eyes and his now ruined hair. In the next second everyone was screaming and Henry’s back hit the floor.

Hans had lunged at him, but Henry was not going to go down without a fight. He pulled Hans on top of him, ready to make his perfect face acquainted with his fists, when Hans was suddenly behind him with his arm around his neck.

Headlock.

Fuck.

Henry buried his fingernails in Hans arm and pulled but he didn’t budge.

There was screaming, some booing, some cheering and over it all the voice of Captain Bernard urging everyone to “shut up”.

Henry stopped trying to pry Hans arm away and opted for the next best thing: throwing his head back. He heard Hans letting out a deafening scream right next to his ear and something warm drop onto his neck as his roommate’s grip on his arm lessened, but Henry could not revel in his victory for long as someone grabbed Hans and him by the back of their necks and pulled them back onto their feet.

“What do you think you are doing?”

“It is the first day,” Captain Bernard said, disappointment and – mostly – annoyance written so clearly on his face that for a second, it made Henry forget about the throbbing pain where his head had hit the stone floor.

His idiot of a roommate and he were sitting in the Captain’s office in front of a headmaster that looked like he was just about to murder them for disturbing his breakfast.

“Godwin has not even spoken the first sermon and we already have a brawl.”

Hans was holding a tissue to his bleeding nose, that was not broken, as the Captain had assured him while Hans kept screaming on about how Henry had ruined his face, as the headteacher dragged them by the ears back to his office away from the other boys. There was blood on his sweater vest and on Henry’s shirt too, it wasn’t blue though, so Hans could come down from his high horse. He wasn’t special.

“Don’t make me regret taking both of you in. Transfers don’t happen a lot here and I thought putting you together would make it easier for you but NO, we needed to have a brawl on the first day.”

“Well.” Hans voice was slightly muffled form the blood and porridge-soaked tissue but there was a glint in his blue eyes that reminded Henry of a fox that just found a way into a rabbit hole. “If we are too much of a hassle you can just send me awa…”

“You are staying,” Captain Bernard cut Hans off, who fell back into his chair with an annoyed huff.

“Both of you.” The Captain shot Henry a glare, who just lifted his free hand that was not holding the ice pack Bozhena had given him for his head as if to say: I did not do anything.

“I promised your guardians that much.” Seemingly tired of them already Bernard turned away and rubbed his eyes.

For Henry it was clear who he was talking about – Radzig – but Hans…was it that uncle of his that had called earlier? Please tell me those two don’t know each other. That would be an actual nightmare.

“Listen, boys. I know you had a long journey to get here and are probably not accustomed to all of this yet so I will go easy on you if…” The Captain lifted one finger. “Only if you apologise to each other.”

The two boys turned to face each other. There was still porridge in Hans’ hair. The tissue was almost all red already and Henry was about to open his mouth to apologies when he remembered what Hans had said. 

You wear a Marks and Spencer shirt. I wear designer. This school uniform is probably the nicest thing your parents can afford.

All intention to apologise disappeared and Henry just wanted to punch Hans again. And break his nose this time around.

Hans did not say anything either, so with a disappointed, but not at all surprised sounding sigh Bernard told them: “Detention, it is then. You will help Godwin clean up after biology class for all of next week. And now go, wash and change. You have thirty minutes before the activities continue.”

Olda let Henry use his room, because Hans got to theirs first.

“Thanks, man.” Henry popped his collar and tried to remember how to tie a tie.

“Don’t mention it.” Olda looked down at his wristwatch. “We have ten minutes left before the sermon starts.”

“I thought we had classes”, Henry replied, confused, still struggling with the tie that was not doing what he wanted it to do.

Olda just chuckled and leaned his head back against the door frame he was leaning against, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Usually yes, but since it is the first day, church is first. With Father Godwin.”

Godwin…the guy they were supposed to help with clean up after Biology?

“You have a priest in the school body?” Henry asked surprised, let the tie be, even if it was a bit crooked, and put on the blazer Olda had lent him to cover where he had tried to wash Hans’ blood out of the fabric.

“Well…kind of. I will tell you on the way.” Olda pushed off the door frame and signalled Henry to follow him back to the dining hall, where the younger students were already sitting in the neat rows that the chairs had been arranged in since Henry had last seen it.

“Godwin was a priest until he got kicked out for…” Olda seemed to search for the right words.

“Whoreing and boozing, that is what our good father got kicked out for.” A guy with brown hair and an even more crooked tie than Henry had appeared behind them, putting an arm around both of their shoulders.

“Kubyenka,” Olda laughed, while Henry was still reeling with the fact that one of their teachers was an excommunicated priest. What in the world? His mum would not have liked that at all. Not that he cared, but…How did this guy end up in a posh school? As a teacher of biology, no less?

“Where have you been? I did not see you yesterday.”

“Me and the devil were in the woods.” The browned haired guy, Kubyenka, that looked about a year older than them, made a dismissive hand gesture. “I will explain it another time.”

“Are we allowed to go into the woods?” Henry asked. “And who do you mean by ‘the devil’?”

“Ay.” Kubyenka padded Henry’s back. “So many questions my young friend, tell me: what did the bloke do for you to beat him up on the first day?”

“He was being a brat.”

Kubyenka laughed. “There are always a lot of those around but they will learn to behave at the latest after we hung their underwear out of the windows.”

“Did you do that to someone?” Henry asked and Olda blushed.

“They did it to you?” Henry asked surprised as Kubyenka’s smile widened.

Olda pushed the older boy away, in the direction of a guy with a manbun – the one who had almost knocked Olda to the ground with a shoulder pat yesterday – and two boys, one of which had lush dark hair that looked like out of a commercial. “I needed to get dragged from my high horse and now hurry.”

A man with grey hair and in a priest-robe came in and all the older students settled into their places in the back of the room.

Henry landed between Olda and the other dark-haired boy, who had a scar across his right eye. Henry recognised him as the other guy he had seen Olda with the day before. He looked about Kubyenka’s age but a lot more…capable.

He would not trust Kubyenka with anything – with him sneaking into the woods, talking about the devil and not answering any of his questions – but this guy carried himself with authority. Or maybe it was the way his black vest extenuated his shoulders.

He nodded first at Olda and then at Henry before he gave them each a bible and snatched a pen out of the blond’s hands, who had been flipping through his bible as if he was looking for a page he liked. He only rolled his eyes at the guy with the scar and then turned to the other dark-haired guy, that was wrapped up in a cozy looking cardigan, to whisper something into his ear, that made the dark-haired boy hold back a chuckle.

Chapter Text

Turned out the guy with the scar was called Jan Zizka and he was the captain of the football team that came together on the field in front of the school on Saturday morning as the sun rose to look at the “fresh meat for this year”, to quote Kubyenka.

“You can just call him Zizka,” Adder, the blond, had told Henry with his Polish accent so thick that Henry  only caught half of it.

“Jan we only use when he is in trouble,” Janosh added and brushed one of his dark curls behind his ear.

“Which he never is,” Ranyek sighed and crossed his arms in front of his in yellow and black clad chest. “At least not with the teachers.”

The other boys let out a chuckle as if they knew more than Henry, which they probably did. He may have spent most of his free time at Olda and Ranyek’s place but he was still not part of the team, so their secrets would stay theirs until he called one of their black and yellow tricots his own, which Olda and Theresa had no doubt in.

Henry had finally been able to call her, after climbing the bell tower Wednesday afternoon after classes as per Ranyek’s instruction.

“How is the school?” Theresa had asked him, after she had listened to him apologise for not calling earlier and then complain about the shitty reception.

“It is ok,” he had replied with a sigh as the wind ruffled his hair and he wrapped himself tighter in his cardigan. “There are some nice people here.”

“So, there are some not so nice people?”

“Don’t get me started.”

Hans was standing on the other side of the pitch, blond hair perfect even so early in the morning.

“He showers with the door open, at least he draws the curtains closed, but he screamed at me when I closed the door, when he did it the first time.”

“And his reasoning…?” Theresa had asked.

“He thinks there is mildew in there, because it doesn’t have ventilation. It has ventilation. The switch for it is right next to the light.”

“Mm, strange.”

“Ok! Everyone!” Zizka waved all the eager fourteen-year-olds, that had woken up at six am, over to the goal where a tall, lanky redhead stood, putting on his gloves.

Hynek, also known as the Devil, at least that was what his teammates and his enemies called him. According to Olda, they called him that because no ball came past him, but Henry was willing to believe that this guy had started more than one fire in his life. He just had a hunch.

Some of the younger kids seemed a bit afraid of the goalie, which Henry did not fault them for. First, they had to wake up early and then they had to go up against this Slenderman-esque motherfucker? This had to be some kind of brutal screening process, because none of the guys that were on the actual team looked like they were of actual use at this time of day, except for Olda, who would wake up at any time for football, Zizka, who looked like he woke up every day at six naturally, Hynek, who looked like he had never gone to bed, and Adder, who looked like he was already three espressos deep.

Hans and Henry were definitely the oldest of the applicants, which gave them a natural advantage. Henry and Hans led the field when they were running around the school and the lake, with them racing to the finish line in the end and Hans – unfortunately – winning in his sprint.

Henry had picked up jogging after he had gotten out of the hospital. It kept him busy, out of the house and helped with his recovery, at least that was what he told Radzig. It was mostly the second reason that kept him waking up at seven am each day, just before Radzig woke up to leave for work, to avoid having breakfast with him.

When Henry reached the finish line, Hans was already chatting with Kubyenka, who was one of the stickers with Olda. Hans was smiling and seemingly not at all out of breath, while Henry could still feel the dull pain where his ribs had been broken just a couple of months ago.

He and Hans did not talk much. They ignored each other for the most part. With Henry being at Olda and Ranyek’s most of the time, and Hans going to bed early, they did not have the opportunity to talk which was seemingly fine with both of them, but if Hans joined the team too…

After all the other boys had finally shown up at the finish line and everyone had caught their breath, it was drills next. They went up against Adder and Bohuta, a quiet guy with light brown hair, who were both defenders, a position where Henry saw himself more than any other. Striker: he did not want the attention; midfielder: he was not one for game making; and they already had a goalie, who was currently catching every ball Kubyenka and Olda short at him.

Looking at the younger boys in comparison to himself…Henry was not worried about getting on the team at all, looking at the other players he could even make the starting eleven with a bit of luck, which unfortunately meant that Hans would be there too. The blond was good, even if Henry hated to admit it. He was fast and always had an eye on the ball in the practice games, while Henry sometimes got confused when they were in the thick of things.

“I will talk to those who got in on Monday” Zizka announced as the bells rang eleven and everyone was dead on their feet, they had been at it for four hours. “If I don’t talk to you then you did not make it, but that doesn’t mean you can’t join us on Sundays, when we mostly play for fun, or try again next year. Now go shower, the lot of you! You stink!”

Henry let out an exhausted chuckle and grabbed Olda’s hand, who pulled him onto his feet again from where he had been lying on the grass to catch his breath.

“Do you think I’ll make it?” Henry asked and wiped the sweat of his brow with the bottom of his shirt.

“If you don’t collapse in front of Zizka, you should be fine.”

They walked past Adder, who was lying face first on the ground and seemed to have finally crashed after drinking too much coffee. Janosh was poking him with one of the flags they used for corners. “Come on, my sweet Adder.”

No reaction.

“I will make you breakfast if you get up now and shower.”

“Only if I get a kiss too,” Adder murmured exhausted into the wet grass which send Janosh into a fit of laughter.

“Always. Now get up, you dog.” Janosh poked him again, this time harder and Adder finally sat up, his face covered in dirt which had Janosh almost keeling over from laughter, which Adder soon joined and got a chuckle out of Henry and Olda too.

“Are these two always like this?” Henry asked and started to collect the cones they had used for drills. He did not need to do it but maybe if he spent more time out here, Hans would be gone by the time he came back to the room.

“This is nothing,” Olda sighed. “Makes one feel terribly single, doesn’t it?”

“They are dating?” Henry asked. He did not know if he was supposed to be surprised or not. He looked back at Janosh and Adder, who were now helping Zizka and Hynek with taking the goals down.

They certainty acted like they were familiar with each other, but that could also just be them  being long-time friends and roommates, if he had overheard that correctly before.

“God, no,” Olda laughed. “They chase every skirt they see when we are away on games.”

Henry just nodded and went back to work. One did not necessarily exclude the other , even if that would not be his kind of thing. Open relationships.

However, looking at Adder and Janosh again, they looked like friends. Close, but nothing more. Henry would not flip his partner off for letting a pole drop on his foot, but his friends? A hundred percent.

“You don’t have to help us, you know.” It was Ranyek that had appeared behind them. The dark-haired boy took the cones from Henry and padded his shoulder. “You are not on the team yet, so enjoy not having to clean up.”

“But I…”

“No,” Ranyek insisted. “Are you not hungry like the rest of us? We all skipped breakfast to be here.”

“Do you do this every week or was this just a special occasion?” Henry really wanted to avoid meeting Hans. He was not in the mood for a fight today, so he wanted to draw this out as long as possible. Even if that meant having lunch a bit later, but Bozhena surely had some in reserve for the team. She always gave them extras after all, in exchange for a flirt or a compliment for her cooking.

“Well…not this badly,” Olda admitted, “but this year we’ll have to pull through. We have been getting to the finals year after year and we have not won once.”

“And we lost a lot of good people who left school last year. And this year Zizka, Adder, the Devil and such are going to graduate,” Ranyek added. “This is the year it needs to happen or it will not happen at all.”

“And now that we have Henry here that will be no problem at all.” Bohuta took the cones from Olda and Ranyek in return. “With Adder and him replacing my brother, no one will get through our defence lines.”

“So, he made it?” Olda asked.

“And your blond friend too – we need someone to compete with Bartosch – but it is not official yet, so keep quiet about it.”

Henry could feel a weight being lifted of his shoulders. He could not wait to tell his paren…Theresa about it. Every sense of joy left his body again, being snuffed out like a candle in a storm. The rushing of the stream that feed the moat was suddenly all he could hear and…

“Henry?” Olda touched his shoulder and he snapped out of it. “You good, man?”

“Yeah,” he lied and put on an exhausted and most of all fake smile. “I’m just dying of hunger. Probably did not drink enough water too.”

“Jesus Christ be praised. What are you still doing here then?” Olda asked. “I was joking about you collapsing. We need you, man. We can’t go up against Trosky with a fourteen-year-old in the defence line.”

“You say it like it’s war”, Henry joked, but the smile quickly disappeared from his face when he saw everyone’s faces. They were determined and not joking in the slightest. “Are they that bad?”

“I can still feel where one of their brutes broke my arm last year,” Ranyek said, reaching for his upper arm.

“Ay, and don’t forget the concussion Adder had after that French guy tackled him to the ground,” Olda added. “That skinny bastard was surprisingly strong.”

“It’s worse than war,” Bohuta said with a completely serious face. “It is football.”

Henry had nothing to say to that. Maybe there was a deep-rooted rivalry going on that went back hundreds of years, but people getting their arms broken in football was new to him.

However, he decided to ask Olda about that later as he saw Hans’ golden hair walk past the gate from the sleeping quarter to the dining room.

“Well, I’ll ll get going then. See you in a bit?”

“Yeah.” Olda took a look around. Everything was already neatly stored away.

“Don’t collapse of hunger on the way!” Ranyek yelled after Henry.

“I will try my best!” he screamed back as he jogged across the drawbridge and up to his thankfully empty room.

He needed to get out of his cold, wet clothes. He needed to eat. He needed to warm up. Hans had left the windows open and so he could hear the stream rushing outside louder than normal.

Henry threw his shirt into the hamper at the foot of his bed and pulled the bathroom door shut behind him, shutting out the steady rising water that he knew was not there and the sound of rushing water. There was thunder rolling in his ears but the sky had been clear when he left Olda and the others on the field.

Henry took the rest of his clothes off and stepped under the hot water stream that burned on his skin, but at least it wasn’t cold, at least it made him forget about all things that happened in Skalitz.

Henry was late for lunch when he finally made it out of his room. Freshly showered and in one of the school cardigans, he made his way towards Bozhena, who gave him a big bowl of goulash. He then found Olda and the rest of the team at one of the tables, sitting away from the other students. Hans was nowhere to be seen so Henry sat down next to Janosh, who had waived him over and promptly pulled out a measuring tape.

“What are you…”

The Slovak took the measurements of Henry’s shoulders, the length of his arms and his torso and circumference of his neck, dictating it all to Adder, who did not look like he was dying anymore.

“You’ll see.” Zizka waved Janosh’s strange behaviour off like it was a normal occurrence and Henry went back to eating. Maybe they needed it for his jersey or something.

He listened to Zizka and Olda talk strategy for a bit until he heard a dog barking and looked out one of the tall, church-like windows, that must have been added sometime in the last hundred years, judging by the ones looking out over the moat onto one of the fields, that swayed with late summer flowers and tall grass.

The dog he had seen on the first day was drinking from the moat.

“Whose dog is that?” Henry asked and Janosh and Adder turned their heads in the direction he was pointing. Zizka and Olda kept on debating if a fake nine would work.

“That pup is still here?” Adder asked surprised. “I would have though the Captain would have shot him by now, for leaving that pile of shit on his doorstep end of last year.”

“Some first years put that there,” Janosh replied and took a bite of his sausage. “Everyone knows that. I think Bozhena was feeding him throughout the summer. He looks like he gained a couple pounds since he showed up.”

“So, he doesn’t belong to anybody, is what you are saying?” Henry asked, watching the dog chase a butterfly into the fields and disappear.

 “He just showed up at the end of last year.” Janosh shrugged. “Maybe his owner left him alone out here or he ran way. He is not wild, though. I have seen some of the other boys feed and pet him.”

“Ay. He’s just like you then,” Adder replied, which got a confused look out of Henry and Janosh.

“As long as we give you food, you remain as well behaved as a dog.” Adder’s stupid smile did not waver when Janosh kicked him under the table and Henry decided to change the topic.

“Olda kept going on about those finals in Prague, is this like an all-year competition between schools or how does that work?”

“It is a two-week tournament,” Zizka chimed in, voice ever so calm. “Right before our spring holidays.”

“So basically, we have three weeks off instead of one,” Olda explained. “Yes, Godwin gives us all the material we’re missing, but you can catch up with that in two days. They really just want us to win.”

“Just like our dear Bozhena,” Kubyenka sighed and set down with a full tray. “She always gives us extras so we’ll grow tall and strong and kick Trosky’s ass. Her words not mine.”

“Where is the Devil?” Zizka asked and looked around. “I wanted to talk to him.”

“The dry devil you mean,” Adder sighed and laid his head flat on the table. “God, I miss our beginning-of-the-year rager.”

“And we will still have that next week,” Zizka assured him and padded him on the back. “If Kubyenka and Hynek can remember where they hid the booze at the end of last year.”

“Are you going to call Katherine?” Janosh waggled with his eyebrows, but Zizka did not look at him.

“Everything will be fine,” Zizka promised. “Don’t tell me you did not bring stuff along. You always do.”

“Yeah, we did,” Kubyenka admitted. “But not enough for the whole team.”

“What happened to the stuff you hid from last year?” Henry asked.

“Can’t find it anymore.” Kubyenka shrugged. “We’ve looked in all our usual spots but nothing so far. We were pretty sloshed when he hid it, so that’s that.”

“So maybe in a couple of years new students are going to find your beers in the woods?” Henry asked and could not hold back a smile at the thought.

“Don’t say it too loud or it will happen exactly that way,” Kubyenka warned him and the other boys chuckled at that.

Chapter Text

Father Godwin – or just Godwin, as the students called him – was an interesting guy. He told Henry all about what he had gotten up to in his youth, from drunk sermons to sleeping with the daughter of the benefactor of his church, and other things a student should never know about his teacher, but that were still kind of funny, while Henry and Hans threw out dead frogs and the like, before washing the knives the students had used afterwards.

They spent the whole week doing that, all the while not speaking a word to one another.

“Hal, I think you are exaggerating. He can’t be this bad.” The bells were ringing in his hears and he climbed down the stairs a bit, which did not do a lot.

“I am telling you, this guy wants to drive me insane,” he insisted. “I think he leaves the bathroom door open on purpose now. Same with the windows. It is going to be fucking freezing in there when winter comes if he keeps that up.”

“How is football doing?” Theresa asked, clearly done with the Topic “Hans Capon” which ended up being the topic of a lot of their conversations.

“Good.” The bells had finally stopped. He had about half an hour before it was dinner time, after which the football team was throwing a rager for all the guys that were over sixteen. He was kind of exited for it, honestly.

He saw it as a celebration of sorts that he made it through the first week of actual school. All it had shown him was that his dyslexia had not just disappeared into thin air, like he had hoped it would by simply switching the language, and that reading Czech and speaking Czech were two different things, especially if you had not read it in a while. Sure, Radzig gave him some books but… he had never had the intention to read those, now he wished he had.

Changing from British history being taught by a teacher that looked like a mouse, to Czech history taught by a guy that got kicked out of the church and spoke Latin well only when he was drunk, were very different things and as fun as it was and as much as he did not like Radzig, he did not want to fail so spectacularly.

Of course, Hans had no issues, even keeping up with him in English, which was the one subject he had thought he had an advantage in.

But Henry had to remind himself: this was only the first week and his speaking had already improved a lot. He would just eat textbooks until Halloween and then he would be fine.

It was kind of comforting, being surrounded by the language he only ever really spoke with his parents day in and day out, but in the end…

The bells rang again. Shit. He was going to be late.

“I have to go, Theresa. Dinner.”

“I can hear that,” she laughed. “Have fun, Hal. You can do this. I believe in you.”

“You too. Bye Theresa.”

“Bye Henry.” And with that Henry was rushing down the steps towards where the rest of the team that was sitting at their usual table.

“There he is. Our lost boy,” Adder said so loud that Hans next to him winced but not loud enough to be heard in the unusually loud dining room. The whole school had been buzzing with something today. Henry had asked Olda about it at breakfast, but his friend had just smiled and kept his mouth shut.

“Welcome Henry. With this-” Janosh revealed a cardigan like it was the national flag- “you are officially a member of the team.”

With a bit of confusion, Henry accepted the cardigan. It was a nice, black cardigan with some yellow leaves on the arms and over the heart and it had…It had the same label as his other school cloth sown in? Henry had never seen any of the other students wear a cardigan like this.

“Don’t leave Janosh hanging,” Zizka boomed, “Try it on.”

Why… The measurements!

“You made this?” Henry asked, pulled his sweater off over his head and smoothed down the shirt he wore underneath, before trying the cardigan on. It fit perfectly. Slightly oversized, cozy, with long enough sleeves that he could pull them over his hands.

“He did not sleep all week,” Adder informed Henry, who was about to tackle Janosh to the ground with the hug of his life. He did not even know what to say. His gratitude was not something that was able to be put into words.

“Thank you. I… I don’t even know… Thank you.”

All the sweaters his mum had knitted for him had been lost in the storm flood. Henry could cry of happiness right now, but he was not about to do that in front of his new friends. Who had an emotional breakdown over a fucking cardigan?

To distract himself from all the feelings that were crashing down on him, he looked for what the other newcomers had gotten. He saw a sweater, a pair of mittens, a couple hats, and then there was Hans, who was sitting across from him with a black scarf with yellow leaves on it wrapped around his neck. It looked so cosy that Henry hoped Hans would stop complaining about being cold all the time, when he was the one leaving the windows open in the first place, now that he had it.

Hans noticed Henry looking at him and just raised a brow before he turned to Janosh himself. “You did some fine work there. Where did you learn it?”

 “And where did you get the school labels?” Henry added. “Is this Captain approved?”

“God, no,” Janosh laughed. “Godwin, we might get to do it, but the Captain? Never. You can thank my sweet Adder for being able to wear my wonderful creations.”

Henry and Hans looked over to Adder, who was wearing a sweater vest that was half black and half yellow that Henry had seen him wear before. Thinking of it, a lot of the guys on the football team wore stuff he had never seen on any of the other guys. He had asked Ranyek about it, who had given a vague answer about teachers approving stuff, but that was probably on purpose to not ruin the surprise.

“Well, what was I supposed to do when in the first year my wonderful roommate started knitting all these amazing things out of boredom and I was not able to wear any of them? Not break into the captain’s office and steal a bunch of labels?”

“You crazy bastard.” Hans gave Adder a high five, just as Bozhena rang the bell that told them that they could get in line to get food.

“So, where did you learn?” Hans asked again, after they had taken their trays and gotten in line with the rest of the team.

“Bozhena taught me,” Janosh explain, “We were talking about sausages. My father owns some restaurants, and I mentioned that I was a bit bored here with no reception. What was I meant to do after I was done with schoolwork and training? Read a book? I was already reading so much for school, I did not want that to carry over into my free time. So, she taught me how to knit and here we are.”

Henry had wrapped his cardigan tightly around himself. He wanted to fuse with the soft fabric. Janosh had really done an excellent job.

“How did you make all of them so fast?” he asked as they reached Bozhena, whose eyes lit up, when she saw Henry and Hans wearing their respective gifts.

“Oh, I had some stuff prepared. Shawls, mittens, those are easy to make, but I noticed that your cardigan did not sit right with your wider shoulders, so I started the day we met you in the church.”

“You knew then that I was going to get into the football team?”

“You were sitting with Olda. That boy will get anyone he can get his hands on into the football team. Ask Ranyek. He did not plan to be in the football team when he got here but now, he is one of our best middle field players.”

“He can be quite convincing,” Henry admitted and returned back to the table and sat down next to Matthew, another middle field player with dark hair and a broken nose.

“Is everyone exited for tonight?” the boy with the dark eyes asked and rubbed his hands.

“I would be a lot more exited if Kubyenka and the devil had found our booze,” Adder chimed in from his place next to Hans.

“They still haven’t?” Henry asked. Kubyenka and the devil sank deeper into their seats.

“Listen, at least we did not eat flowers, got high off of it and fell into a ditch we had to pull him out of,” Kubyenka tried to change the topic.

“Why am I catching strays?” Ranyek asked.

“Wait, you did what?” Hans looked at Ranyek like he had grown a second head.

“It only happened once,” Ranyek insisted and then pointed at Matthew. “And he convinced me.”

“You poisoned him on purpose?” Henry asked his bench neighbour, who just lifted his hands like he did nothing wrong in his life ever, which Henry knew was a lie.

“If the little one is dumb enough to believe me and if I could bring this conversation back to where it started before Kubyenka tried to distract everyone: these two idiots lost our booze.”

“We did not lose it,” the devil snapped. “We are just… currently not aware of where it is.”

“So, you lost it”, Matthew insisted.

“We did not-” Kubyenka started but Zizka cut him off.

“I have to give this one to my roommate. You lost it, which is a shame. That was good beer.”

“Wine too,” Janosh sighed.

“And my babunia’s Sliwowica,” Adder added with a longing look in his eyes. “She blinded a man with that once.”

“We are going to find it,” Hynek insisted and hit the table with his fist, making the younger boys jump. “I swear it and if I have to dig up the entire forest. We are going to find my beer.”

“Keep saying that, dry Devil.” Matthew ducked under the table to avoid the carrot that the redhead had thrown at him. Zizka called him to order, ending the conversation.

“What exactly are we waiting for?” Henry asked.

They were sitting in the woods not far from the lake, but far enough that they would not be seen from the school.

“Just wait another five minutes”, Kubyenka waved him off while he and Matthew were keenly look out for something.

“And where is Zizka?”

“Shut up, Henry.” Hans and Olda joined Matthew and Kubyenka in the bushes, both – for some reason – really eager.

How did Hans know what was going on? Henry was better friends with Olda. Why did he tell Hans and not him?

“There they come,” Ranyek whispered and pulled Henry into the bushes too, even though Henry could not see anyone.

“What are we...?” Henry followed the direction his teammates were looking in and found what Henry had tried to ignore. The lake. A group of first years, led by Zizka and Captain Bernard, were coming from the gate towards the far side of lake where the stream led into it.

“What are they doing?” Henry whispered and took a sip of his beer.

“Did you not hear them in the corridors today?” Hans asked annoyed. “Are you a deaf peasant?”

“With the way you’re snoring I will be soon,” Henry replied, not even sparing the lordling a glance when he gasped indignantly.

But Henry did not care for that when the next thing he heard was a scream. He was so startled by what unfolded in front of him, he almost dropped his beer bottle.

The younger students were jumping into the lake, that must have been freezing at this time of day – or more precisely, this time of night. Fully clothed too.

“Is this some sort of hazing ritual?” he asked and could feel the cold waves lapping at his feet. Before they were able to climb up his knees, he wrapped his new cardigan tighter around himself and emptied the beer bottle, that he was clinging to so hard it would probably break if he wasn’t careful.

They were fine. They were doing this themselves. There were people there. No one was going to drown, Henry kept telling himself. The Captain and Zizka would not let that happen. No one was going to die tonight.

“Obviously,” Hans scoffed and Kubyenka slapped him on the back of the head.

Ok, maybe he was going to kill Hans.

“Be quiet and glad you got around it,” Kubyenka whispered.

They watched as the students went from looking like frozen blocks to dunking each other underwater and laughing. Henry could see the other students watching them from their windows inside the school and screaming stuff at them that the wind carried away. Henry put his empty bottle aside to fetch a new one. He emptied it just as fast.

“We are going to get along just fine,” Adder said, putting an arm around Henry’s shoulder. He took his now also empty bottle from Henry and gave him another. They clinked their bottles together and drank, while the throbbing phantom pain slowly crept back into Henry’s chest.

He made it through the party.

After the kids had been gathered up again by the Captain and Zizka, who returned with more booze shortly after midnight, they went deeper into the woods. They reached a clearing where they lit a bonfire, that burned Henry’s eyes but also kept the water at bay, that was waiting for him just outside of the fire light. Other than that it was a pretty fine party. Not enough booze, though, which they kept reminding Hynek and Kubyenka of until they wanted to walk off into the woods to search for that “God-damn liquor” again. But Zizka would not let them.

“I would rather not man a fucking rescue mission…again.” The last word was directed at Ranyek, who was dangling upside down from a log.

“I don’t…,” he tried to defend himself.

“The flowers,” Matthew started.

“The tree you climbed last year. Drunk,” Olda added.

“When you jumped into the lake naked,” Janosh chimed in from where his head lied on Adder’s lap.

“Unprovoked,” Hynek added, who truly looked like a devil in this light. His tall, spindly shadow was pitch black in comparison to his burning red hair and the blue eyes sparking with laughter.

Henry did not do any of those things. No climbing trees and definitely not jumping into the lake. He mostly watched his friends and sang along with the songs Adder and Janosh were screaming so loudly, they were probably heard all the way back at the school and no one understood what they were saying.

And he watched Hans, whose golden hair burned as bright as the marigold that grew all around them in the light of the fire. He was golden and shining and laughing and Henry hated him.

His roommate seemed to be having a great time talking to Olda and Kubyenka, the other strikers on the team. What Hans was really good at was being where you did not want him to be. He was fast with or without the ball and always seemed to know where to go.

Henry had him overheard saying he had played back at his old schools too. “Schools” as in plural, so he had probably been playing for a long time, while Henry had only played on the field behind the old mill during breaks or when they were bored. They had not had a team. Their school had not had enough money for that and the renovations they had done a couple years ago had been expensive. It was all for nothing now, anyway.

Hans knew what he was doing on the pitch. That was why Zizka put him as the nine. Henry was just good enough to stop people from getting to the goal.

“You’re not giving yourself enough credit,” Theresa had told him a couple of days ago as she had called him on her bus ride. She had needed a distraction from the test she had to write for nursing school. “You’ve always been good at football.”

Maybe he had been, but if Henry was good then Hans was great. Like with everything else, Hans was just better, without even trying. Sometimes it seemed like had eaten a history book when he was talking to Godwin and he spoke Latin too, that bastard.

When Hans noticed him looking, he flipped him off and Henry went back to looking in the fire that made the cross around his neck burn.

Henry reached for the silver. His pa had made it for his mum at a ren-fair they had gone to when he was five. The edges weren’t clean and the metal dented in some places, but it was a piece of home. His mum had passed it on to him for his last birthday, when he had had an exam coming up and had been worried about failing, which – again – seemed so stupid looking back.

Now the cross rested on his chest over the ribs Theresa had maybe broken when she had tried to get the water out of his lungs – the doctors had not been too sure. He could still feel the pain there, as the cold night found the cracks in his armour.

Around three am they called it quits. All the beers were drunk and they had training in the afternoon.

When Henry and Hans got back to their room, he locked himself in the bathroom again.

“If you throw up, clean up after yourself!” Hans screamed through the door, but did not try to get in. “I don’t want to be held accountable for you choking on your own vomit.”

“In your dreams,” Henry replied but his voice was too weak to reach through the wooden door.

Everything was quiet in here. Shut off from the outside world. He could not hear Hans or the rush of the lake or the guys in the room next to theirs. It was just the quiet humming of the light and his own rapped breathing.

Everything was fine. He did not have to go into the cold water ever again. He was fine. 

Chapter Text

On Monday morning Henry found a marigold in the pocket of the trousers he had worn on the weekend. A vague memory returned to him of picking one up as they left. But, by now, the yellow leaves were all crumpled up and the flower had died while it had lied forgotten with the trousers, thrown over his chair.

He had wanted to preserve some of the plant life, before it would die in the fast-approaching autumn, but this flower was of no use anymore. Henry threw the petals out of the window Hans had left open on his way to breakfast.

He watched as the wind took hold of the golden petals and whisked them away just as the bell rang. Time for church.

Every Monday after breakfast Father Godwin held a sermon. In Latin, which Henry did not speak. The last couple times he had dozed off in the back with Adder, but unfortunately that was impossible this time.

He had forgotten his notes for maths in his room and had rushed to get them, only to be distracted by the marigold he found when reaching for his keys and now, he was late. When Henry finally reached the dining hall, his usual seat in the back had been taken up and Father Godwin was already flipping through his weathered bible, that looked like it had been through more than just seminary school. Was that duct tape?

“Hey, Henry,” somebody whisper-yelled. He looked around in surprise, only to find Michael and George waving at him, pointing to the empty seat next to them.

“Jesus Christ be praised.” Henry made it to the seat just in time, before Father Godwin started to speak. “Thanks, guys.”

“No problem,” George whispered back as Godwin announced the first song. They flipped to the respective pages in their books, where Henry discovered that he had gotten one of Adder’s “art projects”. He quickly closed the book before anyone could see the drawings and proceeded to pretend to sing along. Maybe he would have more luck with the next song.

There was no music underlining the songs today, unlike the last couple of times, which was strange. Usually, Professor Ignatius would sit near the front with his little keyboard, but the old man with the curly white hair, that made him look like a sheep, was nowhere to be seen today.

Hadn’t Olda said something about being glad to not have to go through music lessons at breakfast? What did they have instead again? Archery with the Captain? Maybe. Apparently, that was what they always did when one of the teachers was sick and it was not raining. Or sword fighting, which – at least to Henry – sounded a lot more fun than bows and arrows. Who was he? Robin Hood?

“I am telling you. It is in his office,” Michael whispered next to him.

“We don’t know that. Last time I saw them, they were in the music room,” George insisted.

What were they on about?

“We could look at both places,” Michael suggested.

“The Captain is not going to let us into either one,” Georg sighed. “And God knows when Ignatius will be back. It could be weeks.”

“Or days,” Michael tried to cheer his friend up and added something in Italian, that was as nonsensical to Henry as the speech Godwin had gone into. The latter, sadly, did not sound like it would end anytime soon.

“What are you looking for?” Henry asked. He leaned over to the two musicians, who looked over to him like they had completely forgotten that he was there. Thanks, guys.

“The strings on my guitar are done for,” Michael explained and kicked the red guitar case at his feet. “And I forgot to bring replacements.”

“Which is usually not that big of a problem,” George explained and sank back into his seat with a sigh. “We thought we could just ask Professor Ignatius for some today but he is sick.”

“And the strings are either in his office or the music room,” Michael continued and fell back into his seat as well, crossing his arms in front of his chest in frustration. “But the doors are locked and Professor Ignatius was the only one with a key, so no practising for us until he comes back, unless the Captain breaks the door open. And St. Wenceslas Day is next week.”

“I know my way around a lock,” Henry admitted and both the other boys shot up in their seats.

“Really?” Michael asked a bit too loud, which earned him an angry “Shhh” from one of the younger boys behind them.

“Yeah.” In year nine, Bianca had had a rusty bike lock that always got stuck and Henry had learnt to pick it to impress her. It had turned out to be a useful skill later, too. When Fritz’s father had locked their game console away. “I reckon I could get you into the rooms with a bit of time to get the strings.”

“Henry.” He could see Michael holding back a laugh of pure joy. “You would really do that for us? Our hero.”

“Shhh, there is a song on you idiots.”

The three boys winced and quickly flipped through the pages to find the song that the other boys were singing. Thankfully, this page had been speared by Adder’s…adornments.

“We need to do it later today, when nobody is watching,” George explained as they walked out of the dining room to maths class. “So we don’t get in trouble for breaking in.”

“The corridor with the office should be empty by nine,” Michael chimed in.

At least they were not planning a heist during church anymore, Henry thought.

“So, at nine at the bell tower?” Henry asked. The teachers offices were not far from there and he could call Theresa before they went. It would be a good excuse if anyone were to find him up there.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” George agreed, just as someone put an arm around Henry’s shoulder.

“What sounds like a plan?” Olda asked, who was lucky Henry had not punched him in the face for sneaking up on him like that. How was this guy so quiet?

“Nothing,” the three of them said in unions.

“Whatever,” Olda sighed and pulled Henry to their usually place by the window, where Ranyek was already sitting next to Hans. “Come on. We have equations to conquer after this-”

“After what, Olda?” Godwin had appeared behind them, still in his priest robes. Olda swallowed whatever he had originally wanted to say.

“After this truly magnificent sermon,” he tried to save it, but Godwin just padded his shoulder and made his way past them to the blackboard.

“Work on your lying skills, my boy. My grandmother would have been able to figure you out and she has been dead for 60 years.”

Hans and Ranyek could barely conceal their laughter when Henry and Olda sat down in front of them.

“Oh, shut up you two,” Olda hissed at them which only seemed to make their smiles wider. “At least there is no music class after this.”

“You only hate it that much because you are a shit singer,” Ranyek teased him and Olda threw a pencil at him just as the bell rang.

Henry found another marigold leaf in his pocket, as he and Ranyek waited for the other boys to carry the targets into the field. It was a nice day out. Not too cold and not too hot, so they were able to leave their sweaters and ties behind in the classroom and roll up their sleeves, while crickets were chirping in the grass.

“Very good, men!” The Captain patted their shoulders after he had put the bags he had been carrying down next to the target that they had carried out of the shed.

“Come on, boys! Faster!” he urged the ones who had not made it that far yet on. “We haven’t all day!”

It was fun seeing Hans and the others struggle with the weight of the target, while Henry and Ranyek were able to relax in the grass.

“Do you still prefer this to music class now?” Hans asked out of breath as he and Olda placed their target a couple metres from Ranyek and Henry’s.

“Everything is better than listening to Bach,” Olda replied and took a deep breath, leaning against the target for support.

“You just haven’t found the good songs yet,” Hans replied and pushed his hair out of his face that, like a charm, fell perfectly back into shape.

“And that would be which?” Olda asked, but the Captain had other ideas.

“Get your bows and your arrows. No one shoots until I say they can. Got it?”

“Yes, Captain,” they all replied in union and got in line to get their weapons.

“Have you ever shot with a bow before?” Ranyek asked as they walked back to the others, who had gathered about 30 metres from their respective targets.

“No,” Henry admitted. “Is that a problem? I thought you just draw it back and let it fly.”

“No. Not a problem,” Ranyek chuckled and threw Henry a thick leather band, similar to the one he was wearing around his forearm. “I can teach you.”

“You shoot?” Henry asked surprised and put the leather bracelet on.

“Aye. I have a bow at home,” Ranyek explained. “Won it from my uncles, playing dice when I was nine. The only time I have ever won something and it is one of my most prized possessions, which I can’t take with me unfortunately because the students are not allowed to have weapons.”

“Well, then show me how the grandmaster does it.” Henry stepped back with a bow at which Ranyek only rolled his eyes but still took his position and drew the arrow back, shooting at the Captain’s command and hitting the bull’s eye, just like Hans.

“Wow.” Olda seemed genuinely impressed at Hans’ shot, who effortlessly walked over to the target like the other boys and pulled the arrow back out.

“Me and my uncle always go bow hunting around the Christmas time,” Hans explained, like it was the most common thing to do.

“Do you think I’ll get in trouble if I shoot Capon in the arse?” Henry asked, when it was his turn, and aimed his arrow at the target. “Only in theory of course.”

Ranyek’s wide smile was back. “If you hit – which is a big if – Zizka, Olda and the Captain will chase you around the school and hang you from the battlements for costing them the win in Prague because you shot a promising player. But if it helps you aim better, feel free to imagine it. I imagine my first-grade maths teacher. What a witch that one was.”

Henry chuckled. He took a deep breath, drew the bowstring back and let go of the arrow. It hit the target. He and Ranyek broke out into shameless laugher, the others only watching in confusion.

“Hans would be walking funny, that is for sure,” Ranyek managed to get out after calming down a bit. It only sent them into a further laughing fit, that was only broken by the Captain passing them by with a judging glare.

In the end it turned into a competition between Hans and Ranyek about who was the better shot, and with Olda being Ranyek’s roommate, and Henry not counting any of Hans’ hits, their friend won by a landslide.

“They are biased,” Hans proclaimed when Henry crowned Ranyek the winner with the flower crown he and Olda had made while watching the other two shoot. “It is rigged.”

“You just can’t admit defeat,” Henry sighed and patted the grass off his legs, before going over to Hans and taking his bow from him. “Now start carrying back your target, unless you want to be last again.”

Hans just huffed at him and turned around on his heel.

After “music class” it was time for history, then lunch, then biology and then they were finally free for the day.

“Are you coming over again?” Olda asked, as Henry collected his books.

Hans was already gone, probably to go shower, after Ranyek spilled a sample of something on him during a demonstration.

“If it won’t bothering you.” Henry threw his bag over his shoulder and left the classroom with Olda and Ranyek. “I can go somewhere else if you want some peace.”

“It is fine.” Ranyek waved his concerns off. “All you do is read your little books, but it is just…”

Unsure, Ranyek looked over to his roommate, who picked it up from there. “Why don’t you do it in your room? We don’t want to throw you out. We love the company but… what is going on between you and Hans? Why do you hate each other?”

“Because he’s a brat and I can’t stand him,” Henry said simply. “First, he shows up drunk to our room, which – fine – I can get over that. Then, he calls me a peasant, not nice but – again – you can recover from that. Then, he insults my parents and acts like he’s better than me? No. That is where I draw the line.”

“Yeah, we saw what it looks like when you draw a line,” Olda replied. “His face met the porridge, but… surely, you can talk it out. You are roommates after all, are you not?”

“We don’t really talk,” Henry admitted. He had no desire to “talk it out” with Hans. He could disappear into the woods for all Henry cared.

“You just glare daggers at each other until one keels over,” Ranyek sighed as they walked up the stone steps to their floor. The two were one below Hans and Henry. “But you are a team.”

“We are on a team together,” Henry corrected them. “He plays offence, I play defence. We don’t have anything to do with each other.”

“Except for when you run each other on the grounds at practice,” Olda sighed.

He was kind of right, Henry had to admit. During drills, it was always a silent race between him and Hans.

Who could run laps faster? Hans.

Who could hold a pull-up longer? Henry.

Could Hans get past Henry’s defence or would he bounce off him like a drop of water? Still to be definitively decided.

“Can we not talk about him?” Henry sighed, slightly annoyed. “You are hanging out with me, not him. And it’s not going to affect the team or whatever you are worried about. We just don’t get along.”

“I am a peasant after all,” Henry added with his best Hans impression. His nose so high up in the air he practically had his head tilted back all the way. “And he is the noble Lord of Rattay.”

That got a low chuckle out of his friends as they entered their room, which had a similar layout to his own room. But while in his the walls lay barren, here every free wall space seemed to be covered in football posters. That Olda did not have the matching bedsheets to them, was always a surprise to Henry.

The two had a carpet they had allegedly brought from home, but Henry was pretty sure they had gotten it from one of the many attics, since it had a similar red and orange flower pattern to the one, he had seen in Father Godwin’s office when he had asked him about more books about the local flora.

It was not that he wanted to poison Hans – contrary to Ranyek’s believes, who had apparently grown suspicious of anything his friends offered him to eat with too wide smiles on their face after the flower incident with Matthew – it was just really interesting what you could do with herbs, nothing more, nothing less. His pa would have called it mummery, his mum home remedies.

They spend the rest of the afternoon in Olda and Ranyek’s room doing homework and reading and playing card games, before they joined the team for dinner again.

“There he is,” Adder proclaimed when he saw Ranyek walk in.

“Our…,” he turned to Hans in confusion. “What did you say again?”

“Schützenkönig,” Hans sighed, which was…German if Henry had to guess. What languages didn’t this guy speak? Which direction are you trying to say this in? Positive or negative?

Czech, English, Latin, German apparently. In the end, Henry had finally found someone Michael could practice his Italian with, not that he would ever tell Hans about that.

“Yeah…” Adder just nodded before truing back to Ranyek. “Whatever he said. Good job, man.”

“You are acting like I won an actual competition.” Ranyek brushed Adder’s arm off and accepted one of the trays Janosh was giving out.

“If it was up to your talent with a bow, we would have no problem defeating Trosky,” Zizka sighed. All the others turn to him like he had just said the worst curse word imaginable.

“What brings those fuckers to your mind?” Dry Devil, as everybody had – much to his annoyance started calling him – clamped his tray under his arm and cracked his knuckles.

“They have invited us-” everybody’s attention was suddenly on Zizka. Without exception, everybody in the hall seemed to be listening to him- “to a friendship game the weekend before the autumn holidays. We drive there Friday and come back Sunday.”

“In one piece, hopefully.” Ranyek reached for his upper arm again. “This time I will get Erik, I swear.”

“Why do we hate these guys that much?” Hans asked, voicing what Henry had been thinking since Trosky had first come up, after the usual chatter of the dining room ? and the team had returned to their table with full plates, thanks to Bozhena.

“Our schools used to be partner schools,” Zizka explained. “A lot of events together and stuff, long before our time, but then they got a new head teacher and trainer, Otto von Bergow, and he cut those ties that had been there since the schools’ inceptions and no one knew why.”

“And that’s why we hate them?” Henry asked. “Because one guy…”

“Von Bergow thinks he is better than us,” Bohuta chimed in. “When in reality, they are just a bunch of brutes that got kicked out of every other school and don’t care about the rules.”

There was a faint scar running down the side of Bohuta’s face, as if someone had punched him in the face.

With an uneasy feeling in his stomach, Henry turned to his soup and hoped that his little adventure with Michael and George would distract him from the findings of the evening. 

Chapter Text

The bells were already ringing when Henry reached the stairs to the bell tower.

Dong.

Dong.

It was half nine already.

The team had held him up a bit, when he had risen. He had tried making all kinds of excuses why he had to go until Janosh, who so passionately had been talking to him about sausages, seemed to have gotten the hint.

“Go on. Call your girlfriend. We won’t hold you up.”

Girlfriend? Theresa was not…well she could have been once, but not anymore. “How…?”

“Oh, come on,” Janosh had waved him off. “Whose company would you choose ours over, but of someone who is very dear to you. So, go. Don’t keep them waiting.”

Henry had gotten up, slightly uneasy.

Girlfriend.

He should have corrected them, but he had already been late.

“Can you believe it, Jitka?”

Henry stopped in his tracks. There was someone already on the bell tower. Someone whose voice he knew all too well unfortunately, thanks to his not being able to shut up.

“That whole thing was rigged to the high heavens.”

Hans was sitting with his back to the stairs in one of the windows, his shoulder leaned against the stone frame, his hair golden in the sundown and windswept.

Hans was complaining but he sounded happy. Like Henry had never heard him.

“I am telling you, Jitka,” Hans laughed. “They did not even count half my shots.”

Jitka…Hadn’t Hans called him that, when he had tried to wake him up on the first day? A friend from home? A girlfriend? Henry did not care. All he wanted was for Hans to leave, so he could call Theresa.

The floorboards creaked under him and Hans shot around to face him. For a second everything seemed to stand still in which Hans face morphed from bright and curious to annoyed.

“It is just my annoying roommate,” Hans sighed and went back to his phone. His voice had lost all lightness, all juvenile carelessness and just sounded annoyed and tired now, as if Henry were a dark cloud blocking out the sun.

“Sorry, babe, looks like the peasantry wants to talk to their girlfriends, too. Talk to you later, okay? Bye.” And with that Hans hung up and was almost past Henry when the words finally slipped out of him.

“You don’t have to…” Henry bit his tongue before he could say more.

You don’t have to go.

But Hans had to. Henry did not want him to listen in on him and Theresa as much as Hans probably did not want Henry to listen in on him and his friend. He did not like the guy, but he had not deliberately tried to invade his privacy.

“Like you would let me,” Hans replied and kept walking down into the darkness of the corridor, while Henry remained frozen at the top of the stairs, where the dying sunlight ran supreme.

Henry wanted to say something, but it got all tangled up and stuck in his throat, and then his phone rang. “Radzig” lit up his display when he turned it over.

The word stared back at him, as Hans was completely swallowed by the shadows.

Radzig.

Henry had not replied to any of the messages his father had sent him over the last couple of weeks.

How are you?

Is everything going all right?

Do you need anything? I can send you the books you left, if you want.

Bernard told me you joined the soccer team. I did that too.

Not a lot of things to do there otherwise, right?

How are you doing, Henry?

There was water in the bottom of the bell tower.

“Henry.” The voice of the man that was apparently his father rang out from the phone in his shaky hand. “Finally.”

He did not sound accusatory, like he had expected Henry to pick up the phone on the first call and was annoyed with Henry for not answering his texts. More relieved that Henry had picked up at all.

“I was getting worried you had lost your phone. How are you?”

Couldn’t he ask the Captain that? He had already told him that Henry had made the team and, after all, they were friends or something.

Henry did not want to talk to the businessman.

“Good.”

Silence.

Radzig was waiting for more, Henry knew it. Just anything he would give him, but Henry did not owe him anything. Radzig was not his father. Martin was and had been all his life and now Martin the mechanic was dead.

“That is nice to hear. How are you getting on with the other boys? Annoying roommates?”

“You have no idea,” Henry sighed just as the bells rang again.

Dong.

Dong.

Dong.

Eight forty-five.

“I told Theresa I would call her, so…” Take a hint, old man. I don’t want to talk to you.

“Yeah. Do that. I don’t want to hold you up. Tell her I said hi and…” Henry hung up.

Theresa liked Radzig. More than Henry did.

He is trying his best.

If he had been trying his best he would have been there.

Henry was not going to tell her anything. As far as Theresa was concerned this call had never happened, Henry thought and dialled the number he had had memorised since being in the hospital with no new phone yet.

“Hey. I’m meeting up with some friends in a second but it wanted to ask how your test went.”

“Hi, Hal. It went great,” Theresa exclaimed excitedly and Henry’s heart felt lighter just at the sound of her voice. “What are you getting up to with your friends?”

“Stealing guitar strings from a professor that looks like a sheep,” he admitted, his tone completely serious.

“Sometimes I don’t know when you’re joking, Hal,” Theresa laughed. Henry loved making her laugh.

“But it’s true. We planned it during church this morning.”

Theresa keeled over at the other end of the line, she was laughing so hard, and Henry could not help but smile.

“You are being serious,” Theresa managed to get out after she had caught her breath again.

“Completely. My friend’s guitar strings snapped and he has no replacement and the teacher with the keys to the music room is sick so we are breaking in, or they won’t be able practice in the near future.”

“That would honestly suck,” Theresa agreed. “Just don’t get caught.”

“I never get caught,” Henry replied and heard footsteps coming up to the bell tower. “I think my friends are coming. I’ll call you soon and tell you how our little operation went, okay?”

“Alright. Just be careful, yeah?”

“Always,” he chuckled and could swear she was smiling too. “Bye Theresa.”

“Bye Hal.”

“Henry?” Michael whispered. “Is that you?”

Henry looked down to see Michael and George hiding in the shadows as if a security guard was going to discover them any second.

“Yeah,” Henry replied with a normal voice and reached in his pocket, where he found another marigold leaf next to the wire he had taken out of the shed. How many had he stuff into his pockets while he was drunk?

“Let’s go.” Henry was already past the other two when they finally sprang into action and followed him down the stairs.

“Where to?” Now that they were back in the hallway, Henry also lowered his voice. There wasn’t really any security other than at the drawbridge to keep them in the castle, which was effective, and Godwin wandering though the sleeping quarters at ten pm telling everyone to be quiet, which was less effective.

“That way.” George pointed down the right side of the corridor.

Professor Ignatius’s office was in the back corner of the building, a bit further away from the Captain’s office. The latter still had a light on, but was thankfully easy to dodge.

“Why is he still up?” Henry whispered as he got the wire out and took a closer look at the lock. It was a pretty simple one, just as he had expected. Similar to the doors in the sleeping quarters, which he had inspected once just to be safe. In case Hans locked him out, which had not happened so far, but you never knew.

“Probably fell asleep at the desk again,” Michael replied. “I heard him complain about back pain to Bozhena once and she scolded him for it.”

“I would’ve paid money to see that.” With a barely audible click, the lock gave way and Henry caught the door just in time before it fully opened. “We’re in.”

“You are incredible,” Michael whispered and followed Henry and George into the dark office, closing the door behind himself. “Where did you last see them?”

“In his desk.” George turned on the desk lamp which admitted a soft yellow and was just light enough to aid in their search.

“I-” Michael stopped himself and pulled out what looked like piece of cardboard. “Only the packaging? Seriously?”

They had been turning the professor’s desk and drawers inside out for the past fifteen minutes and had put everything back into its place afterwards to not arouse suspicion – even if Henry thought the old professor would not notice anything out of order – and now this?

“It can’t be.” George went over to Michael and started rummaging through the drawer himself only to emerge empty-handed too.

“To the music room then?” Henry asked, just as the door slipped open and Henry found himself face-to-face with his roommate, who looked at him like had grown a second head.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” all four asked at the same time in variant levels from disbelief – Hans – to panic – Michael.

“Are you mental? Breaking into a teacher’s office?”

Henry pulled Hans into the room and closed the door, so no one could hear. “Be quiet, would you, you bloody idiot? Do you want us to get caught?”

“Idiot? You are the guys that broke into a teacher’s office!” Hans hissed back and threw his blazer over his shoulder so he could put his hands on his hips and lean forward a bit, so he was on Henry’s eye level. “And for what?”

“Guitar strings,” Michael contributed, but quickly shut up after Hans and Henry shot daggers in his direction before focusing on each other again.

“What are you even doing here?” Henry hissed.

“I forgot my blazer on the bell tower and what do I see when I come back? Light from under the door of a professor that is ill,” Hans replied which was… actually a good reason to be here. But that was beside the point.

“And you decided to check it out? Do you have no self-preservation skills?”

Hans looked about ready to spit a snobby remark in his face, when he suddenly shot up like a hare pricking up its ears. “Do you hear that?”

“Oh, what is it now, Capon?” He just wanted to annoy Henry, didn’t he?

“Shut it,” Hans commanded and Henry found himself obeying against his better judgement.

All four boys listened and three of them turned pale when they realised that the noise Hans had heard were footsteps coming down the corridor. Fuck.

Henry and Hans sprung to the door to hold it closed, while Michael turned off the light. There was a bolt on the door but that would be too loud to close now.

Please walk past us, Henry prayed to whoever was listening, please. I don’t want to be stuck in detention with Hans again. I just got out. I can’t do it again. His being my roommate is already punishment enough. Please just let them pass. Theresa is never going to let this down if I can sneak into her house but not into a fucking office without getting caught.

The steps continued, never speeding up or slowing down, as they moved past them. Jesus Christ be praised. Now they only had to get back to where they came from without noticing the boys.

Both Henry and Hans had an ear pressed against the wood of the door, facing away from each other, listening to the footsteps, that… had something strange about them. They were heavy and slow with no sense of urgency. Just someone shuffling down the corridor in complete silence except for…was that snoring?

Henry tried to push Hans away from the door, so he could take a look, which – understandably – was met with resistance from Hans and worried looks from George and Michael. But in the end, Henry managed to push the stupid blond to the side and opened the door just wide enough so he could look though the crack and what Henry saw almost got a chuckle out of him.

He waved over Michael and George, who looked horrified, and even pissy Hans followed, so the four piled into the doorway and looked on as Captain Bernard walked up and down the corridor like a soldier on guard duty.

All of them held back a laugh as the Captain took a sharp turn, his head falling onto his shoulders from the force of it.

There was a certain route the Captain kept walking again and again and again, and as soon as they had figured that out it was pretty easy to escape, down the nearest stairs. They had no time to lock the door, but nothing was out of place, so hopefully, Professor Ignatius would think he had just forgotten to lock it.

“The music room is that way,” Michael pointed down the dark corridor when Hans held him back.

“You really want to look for those dammed strings now? You- We almost got caught just now.”

“And whose fault was that,” Henry hissed which Hans immediately wanted to protest, but Henry was having none of it. “We will go to the music room and get these bloody strings before midnight, so I won’t be a grumpy grandpa tomorrow. So shut it and come with us. Eight eyes can see more than six.”

He did not wait for Hans to follow as he went in the direction Michael had pointed at, but he heard no complaints and three pairs of feet following him. Michael and George eventually took the lead and Hans and Henry following them.

“No comment on me being able to pick a lock?” Henry asked as the door to the music room swung open and looked up at Hans, who had been holding the flashlight for him while Michael and George stayed on lookout.

Henry was half-expecting some crap about him being a low-class criminal, but Hans surprised him.

“Hate to admit, it is a pretty handy skill,” Hans sighed. “I would have stolen way more of Hanush’s booze if I could do that.”

While George and Michael went into the room to – hopefully – find the strings, Henry and Hans stayed on lookout at either ends of the corridor – as far away from each other as possible – just in case the Captain changed his route or Godwin decided to check on the other parts of the building too.

It was eerily quiet. With the door to the music room closed, the only thing Henry could hear was the floorboards creaking every so often, when Hans shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and the wind howling outside the windows. 

The moon was hidden behind some clouds, leaving corridor pretty dark, so Henry only heard the door of the music room creak open, before he saw Michael coming towards him, grinning like a mad man, a box in hand.

“You have them?”

“You bet your arse I have. I knew they would be here.”

“Did you now?” George reappeared out of the darkness with Hans at his side.

“Well, of course,” Michael insisted. “You were the one that insisted that they were in the office.”

“You got it all wrong,” George insisted. “I was the one-”

“Can you debate that in your room?” Hans whispered. “I would like to not get caught on the way back and I want to sleep.”

“For once, we agree, Capon,” Henry murmured under his breath and checked around all the corners before he signalled the others to follow him back to the sleeping quarters. For that, he did not need directions. Not even in the dark.

Finally, back in their room, Henry fell onto his bed with a low grown. That little adventure had been fun. He could not wait to tell Theresa and the team about it. They would all find it quite amusing that the Captain walked around like a captain even in his sleep.

“Are you just going to fall asleep like this?” Hans asked. Henry did not need to look at his roommate to know that he was judging him.

“You fell asleep in booze-soaked clothes on the first day. All you could have said about what I wear to bed – something I would not have cared about either way – became a waste of oxygen, the moment I woke up and you still looked like a drunkard.”

“I was not drunk,” Hans insisted again as the sound of him lifting up his blanket and sliding into bed reached Henry’s ears.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Henry yawned and did not even bother to hide it.

“Fuck you,” Hans sighed and then fell quiet, his breaths evening out, the sound of his shifting around slowly subduing.

Henry waited another twenty minutes after he was sure his roommate was asleep until he took his slacks off, which were indeed not ideal to sleep in, but left the sweater on.

He shook the last couple of marigold leaves out of his pocket and then threw them in the vague direction of his chair, before he fell back onto his warm and inviting pillows.

It had been a good day, if he ignored Radzig calling him. He made jokes about shooting Hans, successfully broke into a teacher’s office and got away with what his friends needed and a good story, that would surely fuel the rumour mill.

Captain Bernard, the sleepwalker.

Henry could already hear the stories Olda and Ranyek would spin out of that.

Chapter Text

The closer autumn break, and therefore the game against Trosky, came, the more time Henry spent in the woods. The whole team was on edge, each training getting more and more tense, until it wasn’t just him and Hans that snapped at each other from time to time and against that, the woods were quiet.

The leaves where changing and Henry ran around collecting flowers and plants to press and hang up in his room. So far it was just plaster on one side with Hans’ history notes that gave him a headache every time he looked at them, as Hans’ handwriting was a mixture of almost at a thirty degree angle laying swirls and simple, almost typewriter-like letters that not only changed word to word but sometimes in the middle of a word. Even his handwriting was pretentious.

After the events of the Great String Hunt, as George and Michael had started calling it in the weeks since, Hans started talking to the two musicians more. To no one’s surprise, he was a great singer too and Professor Ignatius urged him to take the lead with Michael and George in music class, while Henry was stuck with the triangle, and then had the audacity to refuse.

I will take the drum kit, thank you.

And of course he was good at that too.

Did he do nothing all day when he was at home, just sitting in his room reading and practising, only to go out at night and get hammered like he did here?

When Hans wasn’t at practice or hanging out with Henry’s friends, though you could suppose they were Hans’ friends too, the blond seemed to be hanging over a book more often than Henry had expected, but what was there else to do when the only two computers in this building belonged to the Captain, one of which was permanently attached to the printer that had to be older then Henry himself.

If he started knitting like Janosh, they could start a small business and make millions.

With Hans always in their room, Michael and George always practising and not studying, and Olda always grinding his teeth to the point where even Ranyek could not bear it anymore, Henry preferred disappearing into the woods for a couple of hours each weekend, only to return with herbs in his pockets and dirt on the bottom of his trousers.

In the woods you could not hear the sparsely used road or the school or the river as long as Henry stuck to the western part, that had plenty of fallen-over logs, still warm form the morning sun – even in the afternoon – to sit on and read, and enough interesting plants to make for a sizeable collection between the pages of Henry’s English books.

Sometimes Henry heard a distant bark, but he never saw the brown and white stray that ran across the front lawn when the school lay asleep. Not even when he brought some snacks for him, which Henry started to leave in a hollowed-out tree stump and were always gone when he returned the day or week after. It could be other animals, but Henry liked to believe that it was the dog. The other boys had taken to calling it Mutt after a serious debate had broken out at dinner between the younger boys, who the dog allowed to get closer than the older ones, on what kind of dog it was.

It was on a warmer day that Henry went to check on the tree stump again and place a piece of chicken there, which he had stolen from the dining room. Just as he put it down, he heard voices.

“I swear it was somewhere around here.”

“Last time you said it was near the river.”

“You don’t have any better ideas either.”

“Because I blacked out that night after you dared me to drink Adder’s grandma’s Sliwowica.”

When Henry looked up, he found Kubyenka and Hynek searching though the undergrowth, leaves already sticking in their hair.

“You’ve still not given up?” Henry asked and the other two shot around to face him, visibly relieved when they realised it was not one of the teachers but Henry who had caught them looking for the alcohol they had hidden in the woods at the end of last year. “I thought you stopped looking weeks ago.”

“We did,” Kubyenka admitted. “But Katherine is currently too busy to swing by for a visit so…”

“Damm Zizka and his plans,” the Dry Devil scoffed. “What could spying on Trosky bring us?”

Katherine? Spying? What?

“Who is spying on Trosky?” Henry asked confused, but the older boys just waved him off.

“You’re going to learn about it when it becomes important. If it becomes important.” The dry Devil pushed his red curls back that had grown at a rapid speed since the beginning of the school year. “Ever.”

“Anyway.” Kubyenka turned to Henry. “Do you want to help us?”

Wandering through these idyllic woods, with sunbeams piercing the leaves and the smell of autumn in the soft wind or listening to these two idiots shift blame around? What a hard decision.

“I have to collect some plants for one of my projects,” Henry lied. “But good luck, you two. And stay away from the poisonous plants.”

“We are not that stupid,” Kubyenka replied, earning him a doubtful look from Hynek, but before it could escalate into a fight, Henry turned away and disappeared deeper into the woods. He had seen a couple of blue sailors the last time he was here and hoped they had not been taken by the colder temperatures yet.

The place was not far from the clearing with the fire pit, where they had gotten drunk that second weekend, where the marigolds, of which Henry had a couple of in his collection by now, had already begun to die.

The clearing of blue sailors was especially interesting to him, because in addition to the usual blue it bore a couple of pink mutations that would be great to have in his collection if he actually had to write a paper for biology this year.

However, when Henry reached the edge of the clearing, there was someone already there.

Shit.

Hans Capon was standing in the middle of the blue flowers, his hair golden in the autumn sun and a camera in his hand. There was a bee sitting on one of the flowers. Yellow body bright against the soft blue petals. A striking image for sure.

Hans lifted his camera again and took another picture, while Henry stayed frozen in the shadow of the trees where the sun did not reach.

It was strange, looking at his roommate like this, when he was not aware that somebody was watching him. He seemed relaxed, not the graceful air to all his movements like he was a performer on a stage. No.

His shoulders were relaxed, his face deep in thought as he changed something on the settings of the camera. It reminded Henry of the moments when he had just woken up on the weekends and Hans was reading a book on his bed, blanket wrapped around him and with a posture much like a shrimp. He looked content there, in his own world, but as soon as he noticed Henry being awake his posture became fixed, and he was lounging on the bed as if he were a prince.

Henry preferred the other version, the human version.

The wind picked up and pushed dark clouds in front of the sun and Hans looked up, as if the wind had told him that Henry was there. As soon as he glimpsed Henry his back straightened and his expression went from intrigued and focused to arrogant boredom, like he could not care less about what he was doing at the moment because he had already perfected it.

“What are you doing? Avoid me all day long and now follow me into the woods?” Hans scoffed and lowered his camera.

“I just want to take a cutting and then I am gone,” Henry promised. “I was not following you.”

“No plans of murdering me then?” Hans asked, pretending to look disappointed. “Burying me where Kubyenka and the Devil hid their booze so no one will ever find me?”

“At this point I honestly think they just drank it all and forgot about it,” Henry replied, not even entertaining Hans' first question.

“That is a very likely possibility,” Hans agreed and then made an extravagant hand gesture that encompassed the whole clearing. “Do your worst so I can keep going. I don’t want to lose all the light, because you can’t pick the right flower.”

“I’m not picky.”

Like you, Henry thought and cut off a blue and a pink flower with the scissors he had stolen from the music room.

Hans could stand in front of his closet for up to thirty minutes sometimes, just staring at the clothes. Henry usually just took whatever was washed and made himself halfway presentable, since no one really cared what you wore as long as it was school approved or had the fitting labels sewn into it.

“Look, already done.” He waved the flowers in the air, but Hans just turned away from him in annoyance and changed something on the settings again, as if Henry had caused the problem somehow. It only made him want to annoy Hans more, so he did not leave.

“Anything else you need?” Hans asked when Henry had not moved an inch.

“No,” Henry answered and still did not move. He was just going to mess with Hans a little bit and maybe, he was a bit curious. He had been there when Hans had unpacked the camera but had never seen Hans with it before. Unfortunately, he did have to witness this guy reorganise the books under his desk fifty-five million times, only to leave them in a mess again as soon as he pulled one out of the stack. But there had been no camera to be seen.

Maybe his uncle had sent it to him afterwards, because he had forgotten it. Henry could actually see that, with how Hans still “forgot” to close the bathroom door every fucking time. It was not out of the realm of possibility that he had simply forgotten something at home. Especially considering the condition he had arrived in.

“What are you taking pictures for?” Henry took a step into the flowers and sunlight, closer to Hans, who looked up from his camera.

“Why do you care?” Hans sighed and started polishing the lens of his camera with the sleeve of his shirt. He did not sound accusatory. It was not a “Why do you care now all of the sudden?”. It was a “Why do you bother with me?”.

It was such a tonal shift from Hans’ usual voice that Henry was a bit shocked. Where was the Lordling that they should all worship on their knees? Where was the arrogance? The confidence? The performance?

“Maybe I want to get to know the guy I am living with a bit better,” Henry offered.

“I don’t know anything about you besides your being a prick and not wanting to be here.” He said it to lighten the mood. It was what he would usually say. He would insult Hans, Hans would insult him and then they would go back to whatever task was at hand.

That, he knew what to do with. For that, there was a plan, but not for Hans being…not a total idiot.

“You got that right,” Hans sighed and then turned to Henry, letting his camera be. “Why are you taking cuttings?”

A bit surprised at how genuine Hans sounded – like he actually cared – it took Henry a second to respond, but by then Hans’ walls were already back up and he cut Henry off. Before he could even bring a word out.

“Rhetorical question, peasant.”

And suddenly, Henry was indeed thinking about killing Hans and burying him with the Devil’s booze. For one second, he had really thought Hans would open up, but no. He was just being a prick again.

“Because I like taking pictures, maybe,” Hans referred back to Henry’s earlier question, like that would erase all that had been said afterwards.

“Alright.” Henry was done with Hans for the day. He put the scissors into his pocket and watched as Hans returned to his camera again. “See you later then.”

Hans did not answer and just stood there, fidgeting with his camera, as Henry turned and began walking away as dark clouds came piling in above them, which Henry tried desperately to ignore.

Hynek and Kubyenka were already gone when Henry went back over to the western side of the woods, so he went to his favourite tree and climbed onto one of the lower branches. From there, he could overlook a group of ferns that was home to a couple of bunnies. The little ones always waited quite a while to appear after Henry had climbed the tree, probably in fear of him being a predator. But after about thirty minutes of doing his history reading, the first pair of long ears appeared in the weeds. And then another and then another.

In the end, it was five of them that were hopping around the old oak tree Henry was sitting in. He had been watching them for a while, when they all suddenly shot up, alerted by a noise Henry seemingly had not heard.

The nose of the biggest one, a light brown fluff ball, twitched before she alerted everyone with a loud tap of her paws and they all disappeared again, as if they had never been there in the first place.

Confused, Henry looked around but he could not see anything. The forest lay still, except for the rustling of the leaves. Then he saw it. The ferns were moving, as if an animal was walking through, just short enough to not be seen. Could it be…

The dog! Mutt!

Henry jumped out down from the tree just as the dog emerged out of the ferns. It really was a mutt. White with brown spots and floppy ears.

The dog circled him curiously one, two times, before he sat down in front of Henry, looking up at him as if expecting something.

“You want food, don’t you?” Henry asked and the dog barked and turned around on his haunches once before sitting back down again.

“You can do tricks too?” Henry asked and reached into the pocket of his blazer, where he still had some of the sandwiches he had made at lunch left. “Then I have no other choice, I fear.”

He gave the dog all the bacon that he had and then carefully reached for the dog, who now seemed all too eager to get some pets.

“You are a good dog, aren’t you?” Henry asked and scratched Mutt’s neck, in the spot where their neighbour’s dog had always liked it.

“You are spoiling him,” his mum would tell him ,when he went on walks with the old terrier and gave him snacks afterwards.

“I am just doing what Ms Roberts wants,” he would reply and keep playing with the dog out in the street until the streetlights turned on.

“You are the best boy.” Mutt barked in agreement, jumped at him and pushed him to the ground to lick Henry’s face, which made him laugh like he had not laughed in a long time.

Henry let himself fall back into the ferns and looked up into the sky, but there was no sunshine anymore. More and more dark clouds rolled in and hung ominously in the sky like anvils that were going to fall down and break his legs, and Henry felt like someone had reached into his chest and closed a fist around his heart.

A storm was coming, and it was not just a simple autumn storm.

Lightning shot across the sky like a silver snake appearing out of nowhere to kill its prey with one bite, and then the following thunder broke the sky in two and released the cold floods upon him.

We will be safe. With the new embankments there is nothing to worry about.

Henry pushed Mutt off and sat up.

Rain was beginning to fall.

Heavily.

Each drop like a nail piercing his skin.

Cold and harsh and unforgiving.

Every drop hitting the fallen leaves was like a gunshot – deafening – and the thunder went right into his bones, finding where his ribs had fused together again and breaking his ribcage open once more, so that his heart lay bleeding in his hands.

Henry ran, but he could never escape.

The rain seeped into his clothes and somehow, he made it to the castle even, but even there he was not safe. Water was rushing down the stairs as he ran past the other boys. Someone said something to him, but Henry was not sure what. He was deaf, the only thing he could hear was the rain against the windows and the rushing water that tried to wash him down the stairs into the darkness.

The water in the corridor was already up to his knees and Henry knew it wasn’t there. Rationally speaking, it wasn’t possible. They were too high up. It would all flow down and out of the castle, but it was still there. Ice-cold lapping against his skin.

He did not even make it to the bathroom.

Henry just collapsed in his bed and pulled the covers over his head in an attempt to hide from the water, from the noise, from the world.

Faintly he heard the bell tower ring. Was it dinner time? But he did not move. He could not move, otherwise he would drown too.

All he could do was hide like a coward.

Do you hear the birds?

What birds?

Exactly. They are all gone. Strange, is it not?

He should have known then. He should have known better.

The rain was unforgiving, the storm ruthless and both ripped the fragile facade Henry had built to pieces, like he was but a sheet of paper in their grip.

Chapter Text

5 months prior:

“Henry.” His mum gently shook him awake. “Wake up. It’s time for school.”

With a groan Henry rolled onto his side. He wanted to keep sleeping. He had been out late with the others again. Now that the nights were warm, it was too tempting. Too many possibilities. So many things they wanted to do this summer.

With no mercy, his mum turned on the overhead light, blinding him and waking him up for good this time, if he wanted it or not.

“Mum,” he groaned and pressed his palms to his eyes until he saw the darkness dance. “Why? It’s Monday.”

“Exactly,” she sang and left the room again. “So, get ready or you will not have time for breakfast before school.”

At that, Henry was out of bed in an instant and he could hear his mum laughing in the other room. “I knew that would work. You are just like your father.”

“Hey!” His pa stuck his head out of the bathroom door. “I heard that.”

Henry chuckled and picked up his school uniform from the floor where he had thrown it Friday afternoon and held it into the air. The shirt was fine, despite it looking a bit wrinkled, but Henry could not find his tie anywhere.

He had dug though half his room when his mum came in. Rain was hammering against the windows like the world was going to end and Henry was already dreading the walk to school.

“Have you seen my tie?” he asked as he was digging through his sock drawer. At least no one would fault him if his uniform was not up to pass. With this weather everyone was doomed to look a bit windblown.

“This the one you mean?” As if she had pulled the green piece of fabric out of thin air, it appeared in her hand.

“Are you a wizard, mum?” Henry asked and caught the tie she had thrown at him before leaving his room again chuckling.

“I am a mother, that is the closest thing to a wizard you will ever see. And now hurry up, your tea is getting cold. You too, Martin,” she added as she walked past the bathroom and his father emerged, beard freshly trimmed for his appointment at the bank today.

“I am coming, dear. Have you seen my…”

“Your button-down is on the bed!” his mum replied form the kitchen.

And, as his father walked past him, he murmured under his breath, “Your mother really is a wizard.”

His tea and honey toast were waiting for him when he came into the kitchen and his pa was already putting on his shoes.

“There is no need to be nervous,” his mother assured him and patted Henry’s head as he walked by. “You want to expand the business with the loan and it is going great. They have no reason to refuse you.”

“But with these people, you never know,” his pa replied and straightened his collar.

“You’re gonna do great, pa,” Henry chimed in and took a look out of the window. “Just be careful with the weather. It looks like hell out there.”

It looked like it did four years ago, and Henry did not like that. It had taken forever to deal with the water damage from the last flooding.

“We will be safe,” his father assured him and fixed his tie one last time. “With the new embankments, there is nothing to worry about.”

Skalitz was an old mining town, through which a river ran right into the sea and lay pretty low, but the last couple of years had been fine even without the embankments they built last year. His father was right. The embankments would protect them.

“I will see you guys at dinner, alright?” Martin kissed his wife on the cheek and ruffled Henry’s hair, who drew his head away.

“I just brushed it,” he complained and tried to fix his hair in his reflection on the microwave door. His parents just smiled at his reaction and as Henry stepped out onto the street ten minutes later, all the work he had put in was for nothing again.

“Great,” he sighed and pulled his hood deeper into his face. Bothering with an umbrella now would just drive his blood pressure up.

“What wonderful weather, don’t you think?” Theresa appeared behind him, her brown raincoat even bigger than his. She had her long, dark hair braided into two braids and she was already wearing the summer skirt of the school uniform.

“Yeah, bloody wonderful. How are you not freezing to death?”

“Tights,” she simply replied and took a hold of his sleeve, tugging him along towards the main street. “I am at least going to look cute if I drown.”

“So, you don’t like the look of this either?” Henry asked and followed her down the street.

His friends thought it was strange in the beginning that he was still friends with Theresa even after they broke up, which Henry in turn found strange. He was still friends with Bianca too. Just because they had not worked out romantically did not mean that he did not like them as people anymore. It had taken a while for him and Bianca to get along again in the beginning, but with Theresa, it was different. Their break up had been mutual since…well, both of them had wanted to explore a bit more, with what or better whom they were into.

“Do you hear the birds?” Theresa asked and Henry listened but over the rain it was hard to make out anything other than the cars driving by.

“What birds?” Henry replied and avoided a puddle that had already formed into a small lake in the middle of the pavement.

“Exactly.” Theresa looked up at the trees. “They are all gone. Strange, is it not?”

“We’re going to be fine.” Henry remembered his pa’s words from before. “We have the new embankments. All that is going to happen with this wind is maybe a tree or two falling over.”

“I hope you’re right,” Theresa sighed and jumped over another puddle. “I could not take another flood. The last one was bad enough.”

“Can we not talk about it?” Henry asked. “Everything is going to be fine.”

When they reached the school, they were greeted by already fogged up windows and shoes squeaking on the damp tiles.

“It really looks like the world is ending, doesn’t it?” Fritz, who had appeared behind them, said which got him a slap on the arm from Matthew.

“Don’t say that,” the brown-haired boy warned him. “Otherwise, it’s only going to get worse.”

“Worse?” Fritz asked and gestured towards the schoolyard that looked like it had been turned into a swimming pool. “It already is a bloody nightmare.”

They watched as another student got dropped off and ran through the rain, his arm hidden under his jacket.

“I swear to God.” Matthias took his jacket off and shook the water out of his hair, before lifting the cast that had thankfully not gotten wet. “If this weather doesn’t stop when the school day ends, I am sleeping in the school. I am not walking through that again.”

“Maybe if you’d have paid attention while riding your bike, you would not have the cast at all.” Johanka, who had seemingly arrived earlier since her clothes were already dry, stuck her head out of their classroom and waved them over. “Class is starting soon, what are you waiting for?”

“Nothing.” Matthias was already scrambling to follow the brown-haired girl, while the others took their time and changed knowing looks.

“Do you think they will ever get it together?” Fritz sighed and stretched, his shoulders giving of a concerning crack.

“Probably not,” Henry and Matthew said in unison and Theresa rolled her eyes, and nudged Henry with her elbow.

“We figured it out eventually.”

“Yeah,” Matthew laughed. “After a year and then you broke up again. Another one of those and group will break apart as well. And I don’t want to choose sides.”

“You really don’t have faith in any of us, do you?” Fritz replied.

“It is just…it’s going to be strange again if they break up,” Matthew tried to explain himself.

“And it’s not strange now?” Henry asked as they stepped into the classroom, where Bianca and Johanka were currently debating if they should call Bianca’s mother after class to pick them up, while Matthias was trying to get a word in.

“I’m just saying, she was the one who offered it. I don’t think she will mind doing a little detour.” When Bianca saw Henry, she gave him a smile before she turned back to their friend as he sat down in front of her, next to Matthew.

“But I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You are not. It is not that big of a deal really.”

The debate was put on pause when the teacher came in and was not picked up again until lunch break, when the rain had still not stopped.

“How are you guys getting home?” Bianca asked, after staring at the field that had turned into a marsh behind the school.

“Walking,” Theresa and Henry sighed.

“It’s not that far,” Henry assured her. “Your mum’s car is already full.”

Over the lunch break Bianca had convinced one friend after another to let her mum drive them home. Even Matthew and Fritz had agreed, who would leave their bikes behind, but everything was better than biking though this storm.

Henry just hoped his dad had gotten safe from the bank to his mechanic shop. The bank was right by the pier and the shop next to the river, but he should be fine. The investor that built the embankment had made such a big deal about them being secure that they had to be worth something.

After the break it was back to school and in the afternoon, it was goodbye again.

“Let’s hope this thing still stands tomorrow,” Matthew said and knocked against his wooden table as he stood up, his stuff already packed to leave with Bianca and the rest. “Last time it sure didn’t.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Bianca scolded him. “We had to commute to Rovna for a whole year while they rebuilt the school. I don’t want to do that again. Not when we just passed O-levels.”

“Just?” Johanka asked. “That was a year ago and some of us barely passed.”

“But we did pass.” Fritz put his hands on his hips and held his head up high.

“We did pass,” Matthias repeated.

“Barely,” Matthew sighed. “And I am not looking forward to A-levels.”

“We’ll be fine,” Henry tried to cheer his friend up. “See you guys tomorrow, yeah?”

“Don’t get washed away,” Fritz joked, earning him a slap on the back of the head from Bianca.

“You shut it. My mum is here,” she said and pushed the others, who all said their hurried goodbyes, before she turned to Theresa and Henry again. “Be safe, you two.”

“Always,” Theresa smiled and put an arm around Henry’s shoulder. “And if something goes wrong, I have my favourite mechanic with me.”

“You know I don’t want to do that,” Henry sighed but could not hide his smile.

“Yeah,” Theresa admitted. “But you would be bloody good at it.”

“Also, I don’t see us having car problems when we walk back home.”

Theresa rolled her eyes before she turned to Bianca. “We did the right thing, breaking up with this loser.”

“Yeah, we did,” Bianca agreed and did not even try to hide her amusement over Henry’s annoyance, when the horn of a car could be heard.

“Oh shit.” She threw on her jacket and hugged Theresa goodbye. “I have to go. Bye, guys.”

“Bye, Bianca,” they replied and watched her run through the rain.

It was the last thing Henry really remembered. Everything after he and Theresa had left the school was a blur of cold water hitting them in the face and a sudden shift in the air, before everything turned cold and black.

The embankment had slid away and the sudden rush of water had overtaken them. Henry had hit his head, that was at least what the doctors told him, and he had gone under.

Theresa had dragged him back out and resuscitated him, breaking his ribs in the process, and then managed to get him, half delirious, so far up the side of the valley that the water did not reach him, which he doctors thought was a feat. She kept him awake until the rescuers found them sitting in a tree long after sunset. Henry had read that in an article too. There was a photo of them being ushered from the boat to the ambulance. It was still raining in the picture, but Henry could still make out his face. He was awake and walking and talking but he could not remember any of what had been said or what he had done or what had happened.

The doctors blamed it on his head trauma, for which they kept him in the hospital for a good long while, along with his psych-evaluations.

Over the course of twenty-four hours, all of Skalitz had been flooded. Everyone had told themselves that everything would be fine, thanks of that stupid embankment, that – as it turned out – had not been done properly to save the generous investor some money.

What was supposed to be their shield turned into a death trap, because everyone had been told that evacuation was not necessary.

The material of the embankment had not been able to withhold the amassing water that had come down from the hills, in from the sea, and down from the skies too. It had just broken away, releasing the water it had been holding back onto the people of Skalitz, who had still been thinking they were safe.

It was a disaster. The project that had been a test for the rest of the region had failed and Henry could not remember any of it.

He just remembered the water filling his lungs. The cold as it bit into his skin and made its home in his chest forever. How his body screamed at him to just sleep, that he would be just fine after a little nap, when he knew he would have probably never waken up again. And Theresa begging him to stay awake just a little longer.

They were the only ones.

The only ones that survived.

A couple other people had been pulled out of the waters by rescuers but most of them had not even made it to the hospital. It had been too far away and, due to the flooding and the continued rain, no field hospital could be placed there without endangering the staff.

At some point, Henry stopped reading the articles. Nothing would bring back what he had lost. There was no amount of knowledge he could collect that would allow him to turn back time.

He had lost everything and then suddenly there was a man claiming to be his father and he had the documents to prove it.

Radzig Kobyla was – as far as Henry had known from the two times he remembered meeting him when he was younger – an old friend of his mother. They had moved to the UK around the same time and stayed in contact, even after she met his pa.

Apparently, that was not the truth and he had been living a lie this whole time. Martin was not his father, he had not even met his mother until Henry had been about three and his mother and Radzig had broken up, since the pressures from their families and being young parents had done a number on them.

Henry had not wanted to hear any of it, when Radzig had first shown up. It had taken Theresa reading the documents about Martin formally adopting him and a copy of his birth certificate that showed Radzig Kobyla as his father, for him to believe it.

“We wanted to tell you when you were older,” Radzig had tried to explain, but Henry had just stared at the orange flowers Theresa had left for him on the windowsill. Marigolds.

“I don’t care.” His voice was dead. “You are not my father and I don’t want to know what happened between you and my mum and my pa. My parents are dead and you are alive.”

“He seems nice,” Theresa had told him, when she picked him up from Radzig’s house in some posh area of London Henry did not care to remember the name of.

“You don’t know him,” Henry had replied, leading her towards the bus stop he had always passed on his morning runs, before all the oh-so-important businessmen had gone to work in their fancy cars.

“You don’t know him either,” Theresa had said. “Maybe if you give him-”

“He’s my legal guardian,” Henry had cut her off, “Nothing more. Nothing less. He is responsible for me and I don’t die on his watch, that is the deal. Now, can we stop talking about him?”

Theresa had looked at him, worry written in her eyes as the bus pulled up.

“Please.”

The bus had come to a halt next to them and the sound of the door opening had seemed to waken her out of her rigidity.

“Alright,” she had sighed and gotten on the bus before Henry, paying for both of their tickets, could say anything.

Henry wished he could call her now, as the rain hammered against the windows of his room and the water reached up to his neck, but he could not move. Going to the belltower was out of the question. It would have meant leaving the bed, and he was so cold and weak, unable to do anything, so he just pretended to be asleep.

Hans must have come back at some point, but it was not like they talked in the evenings – or ever – so he didn’t notice that Henry was drowning in the bed next to him.

Chapter Text

On a grey Friday morning the bus that had originally brought them to the school waited outside the main gate again, but this time it was just the members of the football team and Father Godwin, who was apparently the supervisor for all away games, that gathered in front of it.

Henry had stuffed all his not-school-clothes and a shirt into his backpack and had wrapped himself in the cardigan Janosh had knitted for him to ward off the cold. He could wear the sports jacket Zizka had given him when he got his tricot and pants, but he preferred the cardigan for the bus ride. He was probably going to spend the whole weekend in that jacket so he would rather not wear it now.

“Everybody ready?” Zizka asked.

“Yes!!” Adder and the Devil screamed so loud that Henry feared he was going to go deaf in one ear.

Godwin cleared his throat and drew the attention of all the boys onto him. “Alright, boys, remember as always…”

“Don’t tell the Captain you got drunk,” Janosh offered.

“Or was it ‘don’t look for me after ten pm’?” Kubyenka chimed in, which surely had to be a joke.

“Yes, to all of that,” Godwin agreed to Henry’s surprise. “But the most important thing, that I am only going to say once, no fucking fighting and I don’t care if those Trosky bastards start it again. Kick their arses on the field, not in the car park and show them that we are better than them in every way, got it?”

“Yes, Father,” all the boys said in unison and Godwin chuckled.

“Great. Now, let’s get into the bus.” Godwin waved them all over to the bus that had certainly seen better days. Silver front already dented and scratched in some places. “I think we have a companion for the journey.”

At that, Henry saw Zizka perk up and Janosh and Adder chuckle, as their captain was the first at the door.

When Henry asked them what Godwin meant, they both just smiled.

“Seems like our spy is back,” Hynek whispered as he walked past Janosh.

“Do you think he will get it together this time?” Janosh asked and the Devil and Adder just shook their heads, smiling.

“Never. That man is blind, but that makes it more entertaining for us,” Adder said as he followed Hynek and Janosh into the bus with Henry right behind them, who was followed by Olda, Ranyek and Hans.

“What are they talking about?” Henry asked Olda, who just pointed to the back of the bus, having the same smug smile on his face as the other boys.

There was a girl in the back of the bus. She was wearing a white top and a blue shirt, that looked wide enough to fit Zizka, over blue jeans, red lipstick and big silver hoop-earrings. She looked like that sort of girl that would never talk to you, but you desperately wanted to talk to. Soft looking, light brown hair framed her face, her blue eyes were as bright as the summer sky and silver rings glistened on her fingers that looked like they were crafted for playing cards.

When she noticed him staring, she just gave him a smile and turned back to Zizka, who had written something down and showed it to her. The older boy’s eyes never leaving the paper, as her gaze lingered on his face for a second before it went back to the notebook.

“Can you keep moving?” Hans asked from behind Ranyek and Henry snapped back to reality. Shit. He had been staring.

Henry sat down in the next row, right before Janosh, who had already gotten his knitting needles out and Adder, who was tying his hair, that looked freshly cut, back.

To his surprise neither Olda nor Ranyek sat down next to him, which left Hans with no other choice but to take the seat next to him, as the rest of the team had already taken up the rest of the seats.

Henry just gave him a nod and pulled his book out, set on ignoring his roommate for the whole two hours of the bus ride.

“Everybody seatbelts on. We are leaving,” Godwin announced, “I don’t want you to get busted up before we reach Trosky.”

“And there they are going to beat us to a pulp,” Janosh sighed as he counted the rows on his new scarf.

“Not if I get them first.” Adder cracked his knuckles and stretched his legs onto the corridor as the engine of the bus came to life.

“We are going to do no such thing,” Zizka insisted and closed his notebook. “We don’t need it anyway. Thanks to Katherine.”

“Our favourite spy,” Hynek mocked and the girl, Katherine, flicked his ear.

“Always glad to help,” she smiled as Hynek held his ear and muttered a cursed under his breath.

A spy? Katherine? Had Hynek and Kubyenka not talked about her?

“What do we need a spy for?” Hans asked and looked Katherine up and down, who did the same to him.

As most of them were, Hans was also not wearing his school uniform and thankfully also not that god-awful golden silk shirt, that Henry was pretty sure Hans had ruined in the wash. No. Hans was wearing a leather jacket that looked as old as Godwin, jeans and a white shirt, the top buttons of which seemed to have disappeared, revealing pale collarbones.

Henry instinctively reached for his cross. Please do not start a fight on the bus, he prayed, not while I sit next to you at least.

“You need a spy to know that Trosky got a couple of transfers this year,” Katherine smiled, voice as sharp as knives and Henry held back a chuckle as Hans could not help but look at least a little intrigued at what Katherine had to say, as she turned back towards the team.

“They have Black Bartosch now.”

“I thought he was in Prague?” Kubyenka asked from his place in the corner next to Hynek, who was listening intently.

“From what I could gather, Von Bergow is paying his parents good money,” Katherine explained and leaned over to Zizka. Her shoulder brushed his as she looked at what he was writing down. “He really wants to win again this year.”

“He is scared of us?” Olda asked and sat up a bit straighter. “That would be a nice change.”

“Oh, sweety, if it only were like that,” Katherine sighed. “Istvan Toth graduated last year so he is missing the brains of the operation. His dog is still there, but that is not enough to win. That is why he brought Bartosch over.”

“Who is this Bartosch guy?” Hans asked as Henry opened his book to find his page again. He was not very interested in whatever it was they had to say about Trosky. His job was to keep everyone from the goal and maybe, if he would not get involved with the whole feud, then they would leave him alone.

Would he maybe handle them a bit rougher after Olda told him the story about how, three years ago, three of the Trosky guys jumped Bohuta in the car park after a game? One hundred percent. Was he going out of his way to attack them? No. He would get a penalty for that, but if they ran into him… That would not be his fault.

Henry did not need to know who he was going up against, so he deemed this conversation unimportant. Something the other defenders seemed to disagree with. Even Adder tapped him on the shoulder when he saw Henry reading.

“He is a striker,” Zizka explained. “Scouts have been looking at him since he was 15 and allegedly, he has already signed with one of the big football clubs but wants to finish his education first.”

“We played him before,” Olda continued. “When he still went to the Academy in Prague. And he is an alright guy, he just takes the game very serious. But if he is playing for Trosky now…”

If Olda said someone was serious about football they had to be a bloody fanatic.

Worried, the brown-haired boy looked over to the Devil, who caught Olda’s gaze for a second before raising an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t worry, boys,” Janosh tried to cheer them up. “We got this. And if everything goes to shit, we still have time to adapt till the spring tournament. And to remind you…” He gave all his friends a stern look. “This is a friendship game.”

“It is never a friendship game with Trosky,” Kubyenka scoffed. “This scum needs to be put into the stocks, for what they did last year. They broke Ranyek’s arm and they broke Matthew’s nose when he tried to defend him and ruined his model carrier.”

For the last comment he got the finger from Matthew which lightened the mood a bit, despite the grim implications.

“I would say ‘please don’t beat anyone up over football’, but I would smack those guys too,” Katherine sighed, before she continued, “he and Erik clash a lot, when it comes to who calls the shots.”

“The team was going to take a hit when Istvan left no matter what and now Von Bergow called an outsider to basically replace him,” Zizka said, more to himself than to any of them.

“They are in disarray,” Hynek concluded, a devilish smile tugging on the corner of his mouth.

“They are weak,” Kubyenka agreed, the same smile appearing on his lips.

“That means we have a chance.” Olda’s smile came back, which made him look not as threatening as the Devil and Kubyenka but was still worrying in its own way. Like a puppy suddenly turning into a barking and biting demon.

“It is not time for revenge yet, guys,” Zizka reminded them, but the glint in his blue eyes was unmistakable as he leaned forward and added, “but we can poke the bear a little bit. Sow the seeds of chaos and mistrust.”

From then on, Zizka, Olda and Dry Devil turned to talking strategy with Katherine sometimes chiming in with observations and videos of practice games Trosky had played. Where she had those from Henry, did not even want to ask.

Most of the team tuned out of that conversation pretty fast since that was all going to be explained to them later anyway. Henry went back to his book and Hans began looking around in his backpack until he pulled his camera out.

It usually sat in the top shelf of his closet together with his fancy clothes and – since the day in the forest with the blue sailors, which he had found dead in his pockets the morning after a sleepless night thanks to the storm outside – Henry had seen Hans walk around with it a lot more, taking pictures of the forest and the castle.

“That is a nice camera.” Adder poked his head trough the seats and watched as Hans turned on the apparatus. “Where did you get it?”

“I know, right?” Hans looked down at the camera. A proud expression of his face, like this camera was his perfect, little child. “My uncle got it for me for my birthday this year.”

Henry’s head snapped up. Birthday? But…Hans got that camera like a month ago. Did he…No. Hans would make it everybody’s problem if it had been his birthday. That arrogant prick would not let his birthday pass without mentioning it at least twenty times. There was no way they missed his birthday. It must have been that he forgot it at home and his uncle sent it to him. Yeah. That was much more likely. Yeah.

“Had an epiphany about your plants, peasant?” Hans asked when he noticed Henry sudden shift in posture, and Henry suddenly wished they did miss his birthday.

“Yeah, actually.” Henry flipped to the right page and showed Hans a picture of daffodils. “These are named after a guy that was so in love with himself that he died because he could not look away from his own reflection, Narcissus. But if you consume them, they just make you throw up, just like I feel when I have to listen to you talking.”

Adder just drew his head slowly back to not catch a stray, since Hans was looking at Henry like he could not quite believe what he had just heard.

“Ex-fucking-cuse you?”

Henry could see Adder elbowing Janosh, who looked up from his knitting and reached for Zizka as soon as he saw what was going on, but Henry did not care.

“You heard me right.” Henry did not budge. He was so done with Hans and his whole Lord-thing. Who cared about such titles anyway nowadays?

“Olda.” Hans did not even turn around when he addressed their friend, who awakened out of his frozen horror and cleared his throat.

“Yes?” he asked and looked nervously between Henry and Hans as if they were going to smash each other’s heads in any second. He had been there the second day at breakfast. Olda had seen how quickly these two could erupt.

“Change seats with me.” Hans’ eyes were still not leaving Henry’s, as if he would admit defeat if he looked away. “Now.”

“Not a request,” he added when Olda did not move immediately. What an entitled…

“Yeah sure.” Olda stood, making Henry lose the thought as Hans got up and finally broke eye contact to change seats.

It seemed like everyone around them let out a sigh of relief as soon as they were not sitting next to each other anymore, and they went back to ignoring each other again.

Olda was a great divider between them, since he was mostly chatting with Zizka the whole time, not leaving any air for them to hurl insults at each other.

At some point Henry could feel someone from behind him looking at him and turned around. It was Katherine who looked him up and down before her gaze flickered to Hans for a split second, who was currently going through the photos he had taken with Ranyek, before she leaned over to whisper something in Zizka’s ear, who listened to her intently.

There was something going on between these two. Everyone could see that, apart from them, if Henry had interpreted the comments of his teammates from earlier correctly, and so Henry looked away. Whatever they were talking about was probably not his business. 

He focused on his book for the rest of the ride. An encyclopaedia of plants that Godwin had given him and that turned out to be quite interesting. So interesting, in fact, that he did not look up from the book again until the bus came to a hold.

The midday sun hid behind the clouds and could only be seen as a bright disk in the sky as they stepped out of the bus into the shadow of two towers, that sat on rock formations and one could probably see if their nose was not buried in a book.

A group of boys accompanied by an older man in a red suit waited for them at the massive gate that led to the even taller castle walls.

“Godwin,” the older man greeted their teacher. “Good to see you again. I hope the journey was pleasant?”

There were two boys standing right next to what probably was Von Bergow.

One was built like a brick wall, with light hair and brown eyes that seemed to follow every step they took and under whose gaze Ranyek flinched. That had to be Erik. “Istvan’s dog” as Henry had overheard the others calling him.

The other was a much leaner build, with dark hair and dark brown eyes like polished wood and seemed a bit older than the other boy, who looked about Henry’s age. The dark-haired boy gave Zizka a nod and Henry a wink, after he had noticed him staring and had given him a short look over.

He was handsome, Henry had to admit.

“Otto,” Godwin sighed. “Always a pleasure to be here and I would love to have a chat, but I would like the boys to settle in so they can start with the training before it gets dark. We don’t want to hold them up from getting to know each other with our talks.”

“Of course not,” Von Bergow agreed and stepped aside to free the way for Godwin and the boys. “You are in your usual rooms.”

“Great.” Godwin turned around to them and motioned them to follow him into the castle, of which the gates swung open like the dark mouth of a gigantic beast. “Let’s drop off you bags and then on we go to the field.”

That was something Henry had not thought about. The rooming situation. He just prayed that he would not be stuck with Hans again and followed Godwin into the castle.

“If it is not my favourite Midfielder.” The dark-hair youth had followed them through the gate and put an arm around Ranyek’s shoulders, who almost jumped out of his skin before he realised who it was.

“Bartosch, you madman. Don’t scare me like that.”

“You know me, always in for a good surprise,” Bartosch smiled, before he turned serious again. “But really, how is your arm? Erik did a number on you last year.”

“And you still joined them,” Olda chimed in form Henry’s other side.

“It was a good opportunity,” the older boy shrugged. “Plus you guys never go as hard with anyone else as you do with Trosky. Maybe I wanted to be under your full assault for once. But as I see you have some new faces this year too.”

Bartosch let go of Ranyek and offered Henry his hand which he gladly shook. Strong hands.

“Henry,” he introduced himself.

“Bartosch, but you probably knew that already.” With another wink the dark-hair youth let go of his hand and Henry kind of whished he didn’t. He was so warm and this castle so…cold. There was not the chatter in the corridors that Henry was used to from Suchdol and the lack of sunlight was not doing the gloomy castle any good either.

Godwin had led them into a side building in the shadow of one of the towers, that looked more like a hostel than a school, with an open plan kitchen and dining room on the ground floor, where they piled their bags onto the couch. The room distribution, they could do later.

“You came up now and then,” Henry admitted and the ghost of a smile scurried across his face.

“Only good things I hope,” Bartosch sighed.

“The best,” Henry assured him.

This time Bartosch smiled, but hid it again as fast it had appeared, but Henry could still see it in his eyes. ”I have to get back to my team, but see you guys in a bit, yeah?”

Henry knew Bartosch had meant it for all of them, but the way he had been looking at Henry made him feel like his words were just for him.

“Where else would we go?” the Dry Devil asked and some of the boys laughed, among them Bartosch himself, before he waved at them and left the building again.

Maybe Henry did care who they were going up against.

“I am Hans by the way,” Hans yelled after the striker, but he was already too far gone to hear Hans.

“Didn’t even asked for my name,” Hans murmured under his breath and suddenly Bartosch seemed even more like someone Henry would get along with very well.

Chapter Text

Henry hit the ground. Hard.

“Watch where you are going!”

“Fuck you, Erik!” Janosh yelled after the blond, who went on running his round around the castle like nothing happened.

“He really is a bitch,” Janosh sighed and offered Henry a hand, helping him up. “You good?”

“Everything fine,” Henry replied after a quick check and dusted his black training shorts off, under which he wore leggings because he was not about to freeze here. “Just need a shower and then I am good.”

“Great.” Janosh nodded in the direction of the gate. “Let’s go then. One more round and we are done.”

“I can’t wait,” Henry sighed and adjusted to Janosh’s leisurely tempo while Hans was running for his life with Erik on his heel. Like a hare and a hound, the two chased each other around the castle. The whole training Erik seemed to have it out for Hans. He had run him over so many times “on accident” like he just did with Henry that even Henry had some pity for Hans, who for once had done nothing to deserve this. At least as far as Henry knew.

“Looks like I owe Hans all the snacks I bought as compensation,” Janosh sighed and watched as Hans practically sprinted across the field that lay at the foot of one of the towers, that was lit by a floodlight system and turned the cold autumn evening into a pale, soulless day.

“Why’s that?”, Henry asked. He wanted some snacks too.

“He is distracting the worst from us,” Janosh explained and nodded towards Erik, who had just passed Bartosch, Olda and Ranyek, who were talking about something. Probably football.

The dark-haired striker was very pleasant to talk to. Unlike the other boys he did not want to run the Suchdol team into the ground and seemed kind of relieved to have somebody other to talk to than guys like Erik, who seemed to hate Henry just on the basis of existing.

“Other topic but…You really like the cardigan that I gave you, right?”

Confused Henry turned towards Janosh, who awaited his answer eagerly. “Yes. Why do you ask?”

“Just…in theory.” Janosh kept purposefully avoiding Henry gaze until elbowed him in the ribs.

“Out with it,” Henry laughed.

“What colour do you like in your sweaters?” Janosh asked and Henry’s heart skipped a beat.

“Blue.” The answer fell out of his mouth before he could think about it. “But why? If I am allowed to ask.”

“Well, you did not hear it from me, but…” Janosh lend a bit closer to Henry after looking around, like was about to tell him the passcode to the Captain’s safe. “…I am maybe working on the Christmas presents already.”

“You are insane,” Henry replied and Janosh just laughed, like it was no big deal.

“Only slightly and if you are thinking of what to give me, don’t bother. My gift is the look on all of you guys’ faces when you unpack your stuff. And putting Zizka in silly hats,” Janosh admitted, “But that is a service to mankind so…”

“Speaking of Zizka.” Henry cleared his throat. “What is going on between him and Katherine?”

“Oh boy.” Janosh let out a big sigh just as Adder appeared next to them, like Janosh had summoned him out of thin air.

“What are we talking about?” the blond asked.

“Hello, my sweet Adder,” Janosh greeted him like he always did and Adder replied with something that Henry did not understand, but made Janosh laugh so it was probably not safe for work.

Henry had given up on trying to understand what the situation between these two was. But it certainly was a situation.

“Your Henry just asked me about your favourite not-couple,” Janosh sighed after he had caught his breath again, which made Adder almost roll his eyes out of his head.

“Did you see them today?” Adder asked like he could not believe his own words. “Kurwa. I’ve never seen someone so hopeless. They are practically married.”

“Somone might say that about us,” Janosh chuckled.

“I would do it, but you keep saying no,” Adder played along and they both grinned. At least Henry thought he was just playing along. He really had no idea what was going on here when it came to any of this.

“Zizka and Katherine. Context,” he demanded and Janosh and Adder seemed to finally remember that he was there. Olda was right. They did make you feel terribly single.

“Right, so…” Janosh began. “Do you want the long or the short version?”

“The necessary version,” Henry replied. If Janosh got into talking they could be at this for hours, and he was not in the mood for that.

“The short version then, ok, so it all began…”

Now it was Henry’s turn to roll his eyes and Adder failed to hold back his laugh, if he even tried at all.

“I am kidding. I am kidding,” Janosh assured him and then stared again. “Katherine’s uncle delivers the food and whatever we need to the castle.”

“And?” How was that supposed to help him understand what was going on between the two.

“Let him finish,” Adder chimed in. “It is hard for him to form sentences sometimes.”

“Oh, fuck you.” Janosh shoved Adder off the path.

“You know you love me,” Adder sang as he stumbled back onto the path.

“Unfortunately, you big headed idiot, now let me finish my story,” Janosh sighed and turned back to Henry. “Her uncle also drives the bus and one day he was driving us to a game and Katherine had nothing better to do so she joined him. She saw a grumpy boy her age with a scar and was like ‘let me talk to this guy’ and, children, this is how our captain met his spy.”

“That doesn’t explain what is going on though.” Ok, that was how they met but what use was that information to Henry.

“That was three years ago, she has been spying for him since,” Janosh started to list off. “They went on multiple dates, but never call it that, personal space for them is just not a thing, as far as it goes for our respectful boy Zizka, and they are still not together. “

“Sounds frustrating,” Henry agreed. Kind of sounded like him and Theresa before they started dating.

“It is also very entertaining,” Adder added and Henry half expected Janosh to kick him off the path again.

“It is,” the boy with the luscious dark hair agreed. “But I would like my slow burn to burst into flames at some point.”

Henry chuckled at that expression and looked ahead again. They were almost at the gates again. Bartosch, Olda and Ranyek were still in front of them, the latter of which were debating something, while Bartosch was looking back at Henry, Adder and Janosh, who were talking about the logistics behind setting someone on fire.

Bartosch caught Henry’s gaze for a second and Henry could have sworn the older smiled at him, before he turned away again.

“So that is you type then?” Adder asked, which got him a “hush” from Janosh.

“What do you…”

“He means nothing,”,Janosh assured him and gave Adder a stern look, before smiling at Henry again.

Henry was about to ask what they were up to now, but they had just passed the gates and the changing rooms came in view. A shower sounded good right now and some of Janosh’s sausages, Henry had seen them in the cooler bag the other had brought.

“You go ahead,” Janosh assured him. “Adder and I need to stretch.”

“Why do we need to…?”

“Because we are old and now come,” Janosh shut Adder up and dragged him over to where Zizka was currently talking with Kubyenka.

Hans and Hynek were already in the changing room when Henry got there, but the Devil was just about to leave.

“Don’t kill each other,” he warned Henry, while the shower was already running in one of the stalls. “I want to win tomorrow.”

“We are not that bad,” Henry replied, but Hynek was already out the door, which he closed behind himself. Why was everyone so weird today? Henry decided to ignore it and went to shower.

One point he had to give to Trosky. Their equipment was great. They had lights for the field and permanently installed goals and not only a guest house for visiting teams but also separate locker rooms. If the people were nicer, it would be a great school, but unfortunately, they were not.

When Henry got out of the shower Hans was just doing his hair, which, to his roommate’s fairness, never took him that long, so he was just about to leave when Henry pulled his fresh t-shirt over his head.

Henry got his mother’s cross out of his bag, closed the clasped around his neck and – when he turned back around again – was met still with Hans, who stood in front of the closed door and was staring at the doorknob like the thing had just insulted his grandmother.

“Did it shock you or something?” Henry asked and fixed the placement of the cross on the chain.

“It is not moving,” Hans said, eyes never leaving the metal like he could melt it with his gaze alone, before he went to rattling it again this time a bit more…almost desperate.

“This is not funny guys.” Frustrated, Hans let go of the doorknob and pushed his hand though his hair nervously before he pressed his ear against the door. “Guys, I can hear, you know?”

Henry stepped next to Hans and pressed his ear on the door too, facing away from Hans, like they did back in Professor Ignatius’ office.

Thinking back to that night Henry cursed himself for not bringing his lockpick. That would have come in handy now, but no. He had to leave it behind in his pencil case in Suchdol, because why would you need a lockpick at a football game?

“This is an intervention,” Olda proclaimed from beyond the door and Henry was about to smash the door in with his own head. A what now?

“We don’t need an intervention.” Hans said what Henry was thinking and hammered against the door. “I need to get out of here and have dinner. Let me out, you idiots. Now!”

“You can’t even sit next to each other for half an hour on the bus without fighting,” Zizka disagreed.

“That was his fault,” Henry and Hans said in unison and shot around to face each other.

“That was your fault,” they said again in unison.

“Can you guys just not?” Janosh asked. “We just want all on the team to get along. Ask each other questions or something, fix whatever it is that made you end up like this or at least agree not to scream at each other. Then we will let you out.”

With a scoff Hans sat down on one of the benches that lined the white tiled room, crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked up at the bared window above him. Only to realise that there was no coming though there either and closed his eyes, like he just wanted to forget that Henry was in here with him.

Henry wanted to smack him or the door, but probably Hans, that one was easier to give in than the door, but that approach was not going to get them out of this locker room.

Ask each other questions or something

Questions. Right. Henry could do that.

“Alright,” Henry sighed and sat down on the bench across from Hans. “Why were you late on the first day and why were you drunk?”

“I was not drunk,” Hans insisted again, pulled one of his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around it. “Not anymore at least.”

“Then what was going on?” Henry kept pushing. If questions were going to get them out of here, then so be it.

With a sigh, Hans leaned his head back against the cold tile and closed his eyes. The warm light from the lamps that lit up the castle flowed through the barred window above them and over his face like a waterfall.

“If you couldn’t tell…“ Hans began, “I did not want to come here. I don’t want to be here. My uncle had already sent my stuff ahead and I just thought…well what if I miss the train, what if I go out for „a couple of drinks“ and I just don’t come back. I got pretty drunk, stayed out all night until my uncle’s lackeys found me and dragged me to the train station. I never hated King’s Cross more.“

Wait. King’s Cross? That meant…They would have been on the same train if Hans had not missed his train. Hans was from London? So that was why his English was so good.

“My uncle was there to send me off,” Hans continued and opened his eyes again, his head now resting on his knee. “…and so I had to survive a fifteen hour train ride, in my going-out clothes that someone had spilled booze over, with the hangover of my life and no entertainment since my phone was dead - deliberately because I did not want my uncle to find me - and the guy he sent with me to make sure I did not run off was not very cooperative. I may have thrown up on him once…or twice. He deserved it though. So, no. I was not drunk when I came here. I was dead to the world and did not want to be here. Still don’t want to.”

That was…an explanation. No excuses, just an explanation and Henry believed Hans. There was no performance to him now. No showing of. Hans just looked down.

Henry could see his tired blue eyes dart over to the door that was too thick for the others to hear any of the stuff he was saying. There was no audience to entertain. There was just Henry.

Hans was still a brat, but now Henry at least understood why he had been so pissy at breakfast and that he still did not want to be here was probably partly Henry’s fault, who did not make his life easier, but Hans was still a brat.

“And why…”, Henry began his next question, but Hans cut him off.

“Na!” He sat straight again. Blue eyes focused on Henry. “You had your turn with a question, now it is mine. Olda told me your mother was from around here, but apparently you came from London, so…Where are you really from?”

Henry had not talked about Skalitz in a long time. Not since the last appointment with the therapist the hospital had provided him and he just made sure Henry did not try to kill himself, which would have been a waste.

He could feel the water rising, hear it fill the tiled room like a giant bathtub, but Henry swallowed his fear and looked back up at Hans, focused on the gold in his hair that remined him of marigolds, of warm afternoons in the woods. He could do this. He just wanted to get out of this room. It smelled like Matthew’s sport socks in here.

“My mother and Radzig are from around here,“ he explained. “She moved to England when she was younger and met my father there.”

“Who is Radzig?”

The words fell out of Henry’s mouth before he could stop himself. “The businessman that sent me here and got my mother pregnant with me, which I didn’t know until a couple months ago.”

It was a strange feeling telling someone that Martin was not his father. It was the first time he had said it. Theresa overheard Radzig and then came to Henry with questions he did not even want to know the answers for.

Hans was the first person he told Radzig was his father, who did not know it beforehand, like the Captain.

Hans’ lips formed a silent “oh” and the blond looked away and Henry was glad that he did not have any more questions. He did not want to talk about his father. Not with Hans. Not with anyone. Especially not with Hans.

“That was two for you. Why do you keep the bathroom door open when you are in there?” It bothered him to no end, but maybe Hans had a good explanation for that too and Henry had been angry with him for months for no good reason.

“Really?” Hans scoffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked up to the window again, through which the cold night air came into the room. It smelled like cut grass and old stone.

Hans was nervous, Henry realised. There was something in the eyes of the blond that was…there was something scared in them. Like a caged bird that came face to face with a cat.

“You already had two questions,” he simply said and stayed patient. If the question made Hans nervous then there had to be something behind his behaviour. Something Henry wanted to find out.

“But that?” Hans asked and Henry nodded. “I only do that to annoy you.”

“I don’t believe you,” Henry replied. Hans had his secrets and Henry had his, but Henry had just told him something no one else knew about him, so it was only fair if Hans spilled some secrets too.

“Ask another question,” Hans demanded but Henry just shook his head.

“You are just making it more and more interesting, if you keep denying my question and you want to get out of here too, right?”

“Fine.” Hans gave in with a sigh, when Henry showed no sign of backing down. “Since I am…you know… a Lord…”

Henry wanted to roll his eyes – yes, he knew that since Hans would not stop calling him a peasant – but held himself back, as Hans was finally opening up.

“…People think they will get a ransom for me.” Hans said it so casually, that it made a cold shiver run down Henry’s spine, like being kidnapped was a totally normal occurrence in Hans life.

“When I was…what? five? Three? Something around there.” Hans thought about it for a moment while Henry just looked at him in shock. “Must have been before five since my mother was still living with us. A group of people kidnapped me. They shot my nanny and dragged me into a dark van and knocked me out. When I came to, I was in some windowless basement, where I could not tell what time of day it was or how much time passed.”

“The police got me out of there eventually,” Hans assured him. “Apparently, I was in there for three days.”

“Can you believe it?” Hans let out a tired chuckle and leaned his head against the cold tiles with an exhausted sigh, while Henry felt even more horrible for asking. “I could not tell you how long I was down there for the life of me. I was too busy being scared shitless to count the seconds.”

Their bathroom. It had no windows. No indication of what time of day it was as soon as you closed the door, and while that was somewhat comforting for Henry, who just need to shut out the world at times, it was probably hell for Hans.

“Last question, Henry.” Hans sounded tired. They never agreed on a set number of questions but he would not want to keep talking either, if he had just presented his childhood trauma on a silver platter for his roommate whom he did not even get on with.

“Do you hate me? Because the way you call me peasant surely makes me feel like you do.”

Hans snapped back to Henry from the ceiling where his eyes had wandered during his account and he almost looked like he wanted to laugh out loud, like his question was ridiculous, but instead his smile was a challenge.

“I tolerate you. Peasant.”

This time Henry smiled at the word. It had no bite. It sounded more like when he called his friends bastards, which was ironic in retrospect because he was one.

“Have you guys made up yet!?” Adder’s scream from outside the door shook Henry and Hans out of the little world they had stepped into, where secrets could be shared and the sound of crickets in the evening air was enough to drown out the world.

Henry was the one first at the door. He needed to get out of here. “Yes, we have, now let us out. It smells like your socks in here.”

Boisterous laughter rang through the door and the jingling of keys as Hans stepped next to him. “I am sorry for what I said about your parents.”

Henry’s blood ran cold and the cross around his neck was suddenly too heavy for his neck again. “I don’t forgive you.”

Henry did not need to look at him to know that there was a sad smile on Hans face. He could hear it.

“Fair. I would not forgive me either.”

And then the door opened and Henry and Hans were free.

Chapter Text

Henry took a deep breath and the cool night air filled his lungs, revitalising him. The cold was not as unbearable now that he had showered hot and was wearing fresh clothes.

Hans walked past him and gave him a short nod, before he disappeared in the direction of the guest house. They had shared too many secrets, had talked about their past too much. They needed a bit of room, but tomorrow they would be back to normal again. No. A better normal maybe. With less hostility.

I would not forgive me either.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” somebody cursed behind Henry and when he turned to find out who was still out here after dark, he found Bartosch still kicking a ball around. He had changed from the red and black sports kit into wide jeans and an oversized black hoodie. His hair was still wet from the shower, and he looked somewhat cozy.

“Still practising I see.”

Bartosch’s head shot up as Henry approached him and his eyes lit up. “Henry. Yes. It never stops but…”

The dark-haired striker looked around and waved Henry closer. “I am mostly avoiding Erik. He is in a mood today.”

“I could see that. He looked about read to kill Hans,” Henry agreed and tugged on his sports jacket to ward off the cold.

“He is fast, I have to give him that,” Bartosch admitted and picked up the ball, dusting it of before tugging it under his arm and pushing the hair out of his dark eyes. “But he is no match for me.”

“Very humble of you to say,” Henry joked.

“I know,” Bartosch agree, but his smile betrayed his act. “I am modesty incarnate, but maybe you can knock me down a peg.”

To Henry’s surprise he offered him the ball. “A little practice game? I saw you play. You are quite good and I want to know who I am up against tomorrow since you play defence, right?”

Henry could almost hear Olda cursing him out for even considering.

He is the enemy, Henry.

He plays for Trosky.

But Bartosch was not like the other players. He was just here because Von Bergow paid him money and from what Katherine had said and what Henry had seen, the other players were not too fond of him. To them he was an outsider, a bit like Henry.

“I do.” Henry took the ball, dropped it to the cobblestone and rolled back his sleeves. “Though I am no match for you.”

“You watched me train?” During training they had mostly gone up against their own teammates, keeping the actual clash for tomorrow’s game, which meant that Henry went up against Hans, Olda and Kubyenka on one side of the field while Bartosch stayed on the other side, with his defenders who were not very kind to him, with elbows to the ribs seeming a constant, but he still outplayed them every time.

“Hard not to,” Henry admitted and passed Bartosch the ball.

For the next couple minutes Henry tried to take the ball from Bartosch again, who kept running circles around him like it was nothing. But it was all in good fun. Henry did not put too much effort into it since he was quite tried and Bartosch just seemed to be playing around. Every move effortless due to years of practice.

A couple times Henry managed to snatch the ball from the striker but it was never for long.

“You are good,” Bartosch admitted after a while, let Henry keep the ball and fell back against the wall of the courtyard.

“Not in comparison to you,” Henry replied and flicked the ball up only to catch it and give it back to Bartosch, who put it into his backpack.

“Still…” The dark-haired boy reached up to pick a blade of grass off Henry’s cardigan his fingers brushing Henry’s neck so briefly that it could just have been accidental. Henry hoped it wasn’t an accident.

 Bartosch was talented, charming and quite handsome. His hands were warm and strong would probably feel great in Henry’s hair.

“You can certainly hold your own.” Much to Henry’s dismay Bartosch took a step back, as if to gauge his response to the touch. “So, what is the verdict?”

For a second Henry was confused, but then he remembered. Right. Hans.

“You are definitely better than him,” Henry assured the striker, who seemed quite pleased with himself.

“Another thing.” Overcome with a bit of nervousness, Henry averted his gaze and cleared his throat. “Why do they call you Black Bartosch? I heard Olda and the others call you that, but like…is it because of your hair or…”

A smile crept onto Bartosch’s lips: “It is because I am – apparently – the “black sheep” in my family. All my siblings are academics and I am…well…a footballer.”

“You are good at it though.” Henry felt a bit stupid for repeating himself again and again, but it was true. No way Bartosch’s parents saw him as the black sheep for that.

“I know. And it is not like I am bad at school, it is just…this is more fun than studying, you know?” Henry did know. Christmas time meant exam time and even though they were not there yet, he could already feel the dread rising in his chest.

“But enough of me,” Bartsch said and leaned his head against the courtyard wall, his eyes lingering on Henry’s face. “What about you? Care to spill some secrets over some drinks? I have some good schnaps in my room.”

“You have your own room?” Henry asked surprised, not at all deterred by Bartosch’s directness, rather the opposite.

“Yeah.” Bartosch held back a laugh. “I do, so…”

Henry knew what Bartosch was getting at. At least he hoped he did and he was up for it but…he wanted this to be a nice experience for both of them and at the moment Henry was tired, hungry and his emotions all over the place.

Bartosch had been a good distraction from Hans and it had been fun playing with him, but Henry was just done for the day.

“I am about ready to collapse and we both want to be in shape for the game tomorrow, so…” He could see Bartosch’s smile flicker for just a second and disappointment shining though.

No. Fuck. I am not rejecting you, Henry panicked. “I think I will take you up on that tomorrow evening.”

And with a wink he added: “We can drink to Suchdol’s victory.”

“Don’t make me laugh.” Suddenly Bartosch’s genuine smile was back and he seemed much more relaxed. “We are going to win.”

“Maybe,” Henry replied and could notice Bartosch’s gaze flicker down to his lips and caught himself doing just the same, but he was tired. The running really took him out and he just wanted to eat some of the food Janosh brought.

“We just have to find out tomorrow.” Henry took a step back, his back leaving the cold wall and it was suddenly like a spell had lifted. Suddenly he was aware that they were standing in the courtyard where everyone could see them talking.

“Yeah, we will.” Bartosch seemed to come back to his senses too, because he took a step back, picked up his bag and turned towards the dorms. “Night, Henry.”

“Night.”

The living room already smelled like food when Henry stepped into the guest house. Most of the boys were thrown about the couches, that looked like Von Bergow had picked them off the street, hanging on their phones or reading and Godwin was no-where to be seen.

He passed Ranyek and Matthew, who were playing cards and for a second Henry thought he saw Matthew draw a card out of his sleeve but the dark-haired boy with the broken nose just winked at him and he keep walking.

Next to the fireplace Zizka and Olda were making war plans moving around phones and pencil cases…were that beer bottles (?) to simulate a football game, while Hans was lying on a sofa next to them, seemingly asleep with his golden hair gleaming in the firelight.

Janosh was standing in the kitchen, extractor hoods on full blast, three pots boiling and something sizzling in a pan, while he was instructing Bohuta on cutting vegetables, while the rest of the team bothered him.

“When will it be finished?” Hynek asked like a spoiled child. He had his head on top of Janosh’s luscious hair that the Slovak had tied back for cooking.

“When you stop asking,” Janosh replied and hit Kubyenka’s hand with a spoon when he reached for some of the pasta that was drying in the sink.

“Kurva,” Kubyenka cursed, while Adder just snatched a handful of pasta without Janosh even batting an eye and shoved it into his mouth giggling before sticking his tongue out at Kubyenka.

“The only good thing about Trosky is that they had a kitchen I can use and you guys keep hogging my attention,” he complained but still did not shake the dry Devil off, who still clung to his back, following him around like a giant, spindly cat.

Henry decided there were enough cooks in the kitchen and circled back around to Zizka and Olda to fall onto the couch next to the one Hans was laying on.

“Tired?” Zizka asked as Henry wrapped his cardigan around himself like a blanket.

“Very,” he sighed and closed his eyes. “Wake me up when dinner is ready or if they burn down the kitchen, whatever happens first.”

“Alright, sleepyhead,” Olda chuckled and Henry heard another beer bottle being moved.

A lot had happened in the last hour so it took a while for his thoughts to stop racing.

People think they will get a ransom for me.

That made it sound like they would not get a ransom for Hans, but people like Hans family probably did not negotiate with kidnappers. They just send the police in and get their precious heir out of there before anything could happen to him.

When I was…what? five? Three? Something around there.

Fuck that was young. At that age the worst thing that had happened to him was scrape his knee. 

Henry turned onto his side and opened his eyes just wide enough that he could catch a glimpse of Hans. He looked peacefully asleep. Like a baby. Like nothing had happened.

Must have been before five since my mother was still living with us.

So, she wasn’t anymore. What happened there?

Henry’s gaze followed the elegant curve of Hans nose to his golden lashes glistening in the fire light.

Hans never mentioned his mother. She never called. Did Hans look more like his mother or like his father? Or like his uncle, Hanush, who seemed to be the only one getting through and seemed to have a direct line to God since he managed to call Hans in their room, where Henry had as much reception as he would have in the Mariana Trench.

They shot my nanny and dragged me into a dark van and knocked me out.

Hans had been three or five! And he was not telling the story like he had heard someone else tell it. Hans told it like he remembered it.

I could not tell you how long I was down there for the life of me.

The tired chuckle still haunted Henry. It was the sound of resignation. Like Hans knew he would never get rid of those memories and he probably wouldn’t just like Henry would never forget the cold water against his skin that drowned all that was dear to him. Everyone that he loved except for Theresa, who seemed so far away now.

 I was too busy being scared shitless to count the seconds.

That bathroom really must be…No, Henry cut his own thoughts of, turned onto his back and closed his eyes. Please, sleep. NOW.

He could not look at Hans anymore.

He wanted to sleep.

He needed to sleep.

I tolerate you. Peasant.

Henry turned over and shoved his face into the couch cushions to muffle his frustrated groan. He had not refused – more like postponed – a drink with Bartosch only to think about Hans now.

Sleep please, he begged.

Henry began to list of all the plants that he knew to calm his racing brain. He did not want to think about Hans now or about Bartosch for that matter. Just get some sleep, eat a bit, sleep again and then play the game and have fun, that was all he wanted to do now.

And just as the crackling of the fire and the low mumbling of the common room was about to lull him to sleep a sound like a car crashing into the building drew Henry out of the arms of sleep again, that just began to close around him.

Immediately Henry searched for the culprit and found Kubyenka smiling like a madman, holding the lids of two pots in hand and standing in the middle of the kitchen.

“I am going to kill you,” Hans pronounced every word like he meant it and he would have sounded threatening his half his hair was not pressed flat to the side of his head.

“Many have told me that already,” Kubyenka replied, “But not one has succeeded yet.”

“Oh, leave them alone, would you?” Janosh chimed in from the kitchen, “Can somebody set the table? Dinner will be ready in a second.”

Henry had never been awake so fast, almost falling over in the process.

“You really are only motivated by food,” Hans said, astonished, from where he was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes on the couch.

“Like a puppy,” he yawned and blinked a couple of times.

Yesterday he would have seen it as a taunt, just because it was simply something Hans had said, but today…he just choked it up to Hans’ tired brain.

“I am a bit big for a puppy, don’t you think?” Henry replied and offered Hans a hand, which he examined like it was a foreign object.

“Come on. The faster we eat dinner, the faster we can go to bed,” Henry explained.

“Now we are talking.” Hans took his hand and let himself be pulled into a standing position before he followed Henry to the kitchen, where they accepted cutlery and plates from Bohuta, who seemed glad for some help, while Adder and Hynek were still running circles around Janosh, who did not seem deterred at all.

Dinner was incredible, which everyone told Janosh about fifteen thousand times.

“Ah, you flatter me,” Janosh said and waved the complements away. “You should see what I can make in my actual kitchen at home.”

“Your dad’s restaurants are going to be in good hands, yeah, yeah,” Zizka sighed as Henry thought the evening was about to draw to a close and stood up.

“Now that everyone has eaten something and we have dealt with the…issues in the team morale.” Zizka cleared his throat and avoided looking at Hans and Henry, who knew exactly that he was talking about them.

They had not been that bad. Sure, they would make training harder by trying to compete with each other, but that was a good thing, right? Zizka wanted them to be better, so Henry and Hans pushing each other and the rest of the team to the limit was…not the worst thing.

“Trosky will fall tomorrow. I believe in us. Their leadership is divided and we have trained hard for this. One good man does not win a game, a good team does, so clean up, get some sleep and then we are going to kick their asses tomorrow. Audaces fortuna iuvat.”

The boys replied with cheers.

Fortune favours the bold. Their school motto. A bit cheesy if you asked Henry, but appropriate.

Soon everyone got up and piled their plates next to the sink where they would be dealt with tomorrow – or left for Trosky if the comment Matthew muttered under his breath was anything to go by – and then picked up their bags from where they had thrown them earlier.

First thing Henry did as he followed Olda up the stairs was check his messages.

He had a “good luck for the game tomorrow” from Theresa and Henry thought about calling her and telling her about the Hans-situation and Bartosch, which…She would be happy for him about the latter and more interested in the former.

He just pisses me of.

Why though?

He had given her the same answer that he always gave Olda and Ranyek: That he was just a rich prick, which he still was, but…now he had a bit of pity for him too. No. Pity did not feel like the right word. He hated that word. Henry understood Hans better now. At least he thought he did, but maybe he would be a total dick again tomorrow.

Maybe it had all been a lie.

No.

Henry did not believe that. He did not want to believe it.

Apparently, I was in there for three days. Can you believe it?

Hans had opened up a tiny bit in the forest – on his maybe birthday – and then closed up again so fast that Henry had gotten whiplash, but today…

He had told Hans about Radzig and felt like he had ripped open a wound that would not close and Hans told him such horrible things so casually like they were just a regular part of his life that he lived with. How many times did someone need to get kidnapped to get this relaxed about it? And how young had he been?

I can think about that tomorrow otherwise I won’t sleep at all, Henry thought and tried to banish the thoughts as he, Olda, Ranyek and Hans dropped of their bags in the four-bed room they were going to share and piled into the hall bathroom to brush their teeth.

In the morning Godwin had magically re-appeared and was wearing the biggest sunglasses Henry had ever seen, despite it being a relatively gloomy day and them still being inside.

The ex-priest was sitting at the dining table and just accepted a cup of coffee from Adder as Henry stepped into the room that already smelled like toast, porridge and coffee.

A sunbeam had made its way through the grey morning sky and shined just long enough onto Henry’s face to wake him up only to then disappear again, like it had never existed.

The common room was still mostly empty, with only Janosh, Adder, Olda and Godwin hanging around.

“Good morning, Henry,” Olda greeted him, already looking criminally productive with a book in-between himself and his plate of omelette. How much food had Janosh brought?

Henry got his answer when he opened the refrigerator door and saw a stack of Tupperware pushed to the side next to a bunch of food that looked fresh out of the grocery store.

“They stock up the fridge for us when we show up, because they don’t want to pay their cooks extra to cook for us,” Janosh explained and offered Henry a bowel of porridge, which he gladly accepted.

With a coffee from Adder and his own book he sat down next to Olda and looked at the book the other was so intently reading. It was a strategy book. What had he expected?

In the span of the next thirty minutes the rest of the team showed up. Some looking like they had just rolled out of bed – Hynek in his cookie monster pyjamas – others ready to start the day – Zizka – but most of them in an in-between state like Hans, who was wearing his kit under his sports jacket already but was drinking his coffee like his life depended on it.

He seemed utterly normal. Like nothing had changed. Like he had not spilled a secret to Henry that he did not think any of the other guys at the table knew.

“And you tell me you don’t believe in tea.” Henry shook his head in disbelief as he saw Hans chug his coffee.

“What are a bit of leaves in hot water going to do?”

“What are a bit of ground beans in hot water going to do?” Henry replied and was glad that they were back to normal again. No. A better normal. Hans had not given him a reason to dunk his head in the porridge bowl again.

Yet.

Chapter Text

Their strategy was simple. Clinging to Bartosch in the back – especially Henry, which was a detail that Henry had a couple of questions about and – and Hans distracting Erik in the front while the rest of the team – mostly Olda – did their thing.

“And why do you have to throw me to the hounds?” Hans had asked after Zizka had unfolded his spectacular plan in front of them during breakfast.

“Because he seemingly has something against you for some reason,” Zizka started.

Henry could think of a couple of reasons: being an arrogant lordling, overall annoying. But he had gotten the feeling that that was not the problem here and that maybe he had only wanted to see Hans that way. The blond got on great with Henry’s other friends and maybe the whole school year could have gone differently if they had started on a better foot, but right now that was not the point.

The problem that Hans caused for their enemy was that he was wherever you did not want him to be, and he would let you know that you were only eating his dust.

“And if you piss him off, he will be distracted,” Zizka had continued. “Therefore Olda and Kubyenka have that hound off their back.”

And Zizka was correct.

The count was 2:1 and they had just started the second half. One goal each scored by Olda, Kubyenka and Bartosch, who at this point seemed more exited than annoyed about the state of things.

“Man-to-man marking?” Bartosch asked as his eyes never left the ball, that Hans had just passed to Kubyenka. “Really?”

“Maybe I just want to spend more time with you,” Henry replied and kept jogging next to Bartosch. His shoulder hurt, from where one of the other strikers had run into him on purpose and knocked him to the ground, not that the ref had seen that. No. Von Bergow paid him too much money for that. 

It really was a shame that Suchdol did not have the facilities to host games. Henry would have paid good money to see Father Godwin try his hand at that, but seeing him standing on the sidelines like a coach watching his team play and screaming instructions at them that they only sometimes ignored was fun too.

Bartosch gave him a sceptical look. “You don’t like me that much.”

“You don’t know that,” Henry replied with a smile. “Maybe I want to get to know you better to decide if I like you enough to cling to you like a bear.”

At that Bartosch’s cheeks turned a dusty pink and suddenly Henry got why they put him with Bartosch. And there he thought he had been subtle. Oh well. Or maybe it was that Zizka noticed that Bartosch liked him. They had known each other for longer after all. Or maybe it was just the cold wind, that refused to part the – since they had reached Trosky – ever presented grey clouds, that just hung there with no threat of rain.

“They sent you to distract me, didn’t they?” Bartosch seemed to be reading his mind, but Henry was not about to give up their plan, or at least the part that he listened to.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Henry replied just as Olda lost the ball and suddenly Erik was running past them, which…he was not a 9 like Hans. He should be passing the ball to someone, when Adder and Bohuta jumped in to stop him, but no. Erik would seemingly rather lose than give up anything to Bartosch, who despite Henry’s efforts had escaped him.

Adder snagged the ball from him, who passed to Henry, who sent it flying back to the front where Olda passed it to Hans, who out dribbled the defence and scored another goal.

3:1.

“Good assist, Olda!” Zizka congratulated them. “Nice goal, Hans. Keep going like that and this will be a breeze!”

Erik seemed everything but exited for them, grinding his teeth while Olda and Hans gave each other a high-five.

“You guys are good,” Bartosch admitted, when Henry caught up to him again. “A bit too good for my taste.”

“Told you we would be celebrating Suchdol’s victory,” Henry replied and shrugged, just as one of the players with a bit of brain passed the ball to Bartosch, who shook Henry off in seconds. He really was that much better than all of them.

If it had not been for Erik and his ego trips, this game would have looked completely different, but the way it was now it was quite easy. Mind you, a lot of running and swearing and bruises and sweating, despite the fidget temperatures, were involved.

But by minute 72 they were still in the lead with 3:2, thanks to Erik blocking Henry and Adder while the other striker did the assist for Bartosch in a rare moment of teamwork. The number of times the Devil had to save it because Henry could not stick to the dark-haired striker was a bit embarrassing, but Henry kept telling himself that this was his – not even really official – first game. It was friendship game even if the bruises, that all of them had from Erik or one of the other fighting for the ball with a bit too much enthusiasm, would tell you otherwise. It was ok if he messed up, but he still did not want to.

With fifteen minutes left on the clock Henry did not see the game going Trosky’s way again, which Hans had the brilliant idea to tell Erik to his face.

“Seems like you can’t even win against us when you buy yourself a player,” Henry heard Hans taunt the much larger Erik. “As soon as your boyfriend leaves you are a lost puppy that…”

Henry did not hear the punch. He just heard Hans voice cutting out and something hitting the ground and then the screams, and the next thing he knew Adder and Bohuta were already running past him and Bartosch, who were frozen for a second.

Hans had been knocked to the floor and Erik was standing over him, his knuckles bloody, and was ready to kick Hans, when Adder and Bohuta, who were the only ones on the pitch not frozen in shock, grabbed him by the arms and dragged him away from Hans, who sat up looking worse for wear but at least conscious.

As if Hans sitting up had broken the spell over them, the field and Godwin erupted into screams. Henry had never seen an old man cuss someone out like Godwin did with the ref. Everything from him being blind for not seeing the continued aggression the Trosky team had been showed his boys, to the ref’s mother being an ugly sheep, to words that were so unholy that Henry did not even dare think them reached his ears as he ran across the field, leaving Bartosch behind to assist his teammates, who were building a wall between Hans and the rest of the Trosky team.

“How many fingers?” Zizka was crouching down next to Hans, who was holding his head and looking quite disoriented, like his ears were ringing. Henry knew the feeling.

“Three, you ignoramus.” Hans knocked Zizka’s hand out of the way and tried to stand up. “I am fine.”

Both Zizka and Henry pushed him back down. There was blood running down the side of his face. Hans might not have realised it yet but it was, and Henry was not about to point that out to him and make him panic.

“You are not fine, boy,” Zizka insisted and turned towards Henry. “Bring him to the infirmary. Musa is probably already running to find you. Go.”

“Who is running to find me?” Hans asked, totally oblivious to the fact that he was bleeding.

Henry helped the blond to his feet and carefully put Hans’ arm over his shoulder so he could help him walk.

“I swear to God, if you say there is a tea for that, I will punch you harder than Erik just did me,” Hans threatened which did not have much bite but gave Henry hope that – if Hans could still tease him about his hobbies – he was probably just fine.

“I am more concerned about you getting patched up than drinking tea,” Henry replied and picked up the tempo as much as he dared as the shouting behind them got louder. “Just kind of mad somebody got to punch you before I did.”

Hans scoffed at Henry’s honesty awful joke and half-heartedly tried to shove him away, but not with much success. They just stepped foot through the main gate when a man in an all-blue nurse’s coat came to meet them.

“They really did it again, these little demons,” the man, that looked so done already, sighed and laid Hans’ other arm over his shoulder and led him and Henry to what looked like a nurse’s office.

“Musa of Mali” stood on the plaque outside the heavy, wooden door that Musa pushed open, before placing Hans on a chair and getting a flashlight out to shine it in his eyes, before reaching for disinfectant and bandages and placing them on the desk next to the five already empty coffee cups.

“You don’t have a concussion,” the man informed Hans, who just seemed content sitting there, wincing a bit when Musa wiped the blood away and sprayed alcohol on the wound. “But you are probably going to get a scar from this.”

“Great,” Hans sighed. “That’s it for my career as a model then.”

A scar would probably only make Hans look more dangerous and daring, Henry thought, but instead he said: “Well, at least it’s a good conversation starter.”

Hans just gave him a deadpan look while Musa let out a dry chuckle and secured the plaster on Hans’s temple, before he turned to Henry. “You good, kid?”

“Yeah,” Henry waved it off, “Bruised, tired, but better than this guy.”

Hans scoffed and accepted the towel Musa offered him to wipe the blood of his neck. “You seem oddly chill about this whole thing.”

“Once you get used to these brats beating each other up, the getting in fights with other kids is sort of to be expected,” the nurse sighed and leaned back in his office chair. “I am Musa by the way.”

“I am Hans and that guy over there is Henry,” Hans introduced them wiped the rest of the blood away and folded the towel into a neat, bloodied square.

“Nice to meet you. Am I allowed to ask what got you that or…”

“Insulted Erik,” Hans answered quickly a smile tugging on the corner of his mouth, like he was proud of himself.

“That will usually do it,” Musa nodded and reached for one of the coffee cups, just as Zizka came through the door looking so pissed of a dark storm cloud might as well have been floating over his head.

“We are leaving,” he proclaimed. “Now.”

There was no room for debate or even questions. Olda had packed their stuff and gave it to them when they reached the bus, in which the rest of the team was already sitting in complete silence. Bohuta held a tissue to his bloody nose and the Devil looked like a cat had tried to scratch his face off. What happened in the twenty or so minutes they were gone?

“Don’t,” Olda warned him and just nodded to the two empty seats on the other side of the aisle across from him and Ranyek. “Just don’t.”

As soon as they sat down the engine started and even before their seatbelts were on, they were already on the road away from the castle that became smaller and smaller behind them.

A part of Henry felt bad for not saying a proper goodbye to Bartosch, but with the mood right now being so grim, he doubted that that would not have ended in a confrontation too.

It was quiet for the first hour of the ride back, which Henry and Hans spent trying to catch their friends’ eyes to somehow get them to talk about what happened, even if it was pretty clear.

A fight had broken out.

But was it really that bad, that they had to leave immediately? No matter if they lost or won the game, they were supposed to come back on Sunday so they would have the afternoon to “make friends”. Henry had more planned on making out but that was not going to happen anymore. Theresa would so roast him for not jumping on that opportunity as soon as it presented itself.

“So…” Zizka broke the silence and everyone turned to face him.

“Hans.” Henry could feel his roommate sitting up a bit straighter next to him. “How are you doing?”

“I feel like shit,” Hans admitted and then – in a much more theatrical manner – he added: “And that bastard running my model carrier, can you believe it? Just like they did with our Matthew.”

The first held back their chuckles.

Hans was doing it again. His head must probably still hurt since Musa did not give him anything, because Zizka showed up, and he was already making jokes about it.

Hans grabbed his own face and looked up to the ceiling of the bus like he was talking to God directly. “I was told it would leave a scar on my perfect face.”

This time around no-one was holding back their laugher and the shackles of gloom, that held them all in place had been shattered. By Hans, who seemed pretty pleased with himself.

From then on, the drive became a much more pleasant experience. With the other boys not being frozen in a brooding silence – now chattering like usual – Henry dared to take his book out of his bag, that Olda really just had thrown everything into, and took a glance at his phone.

Theresa’s “How did the game go?” was answered with a “We were about to win when the other guys decided to use fists instead of actually playing the game.” Which got her to call him almost immediately.

“Are you ok? What happened?”

Henry could see Hans ears perk up in curiosity, so he switched his phone to the other ear and turned towards the window, before he answered: “I am fine. Just a couple bruises. I wasn’t there for most of it.”

“So, I don’t have to drive down there and stitch you back together?” She was teasing but Henry could hear the relief in her voice.

“No, you don’t,” Henry assured her, “I did not even get the worst of it, but we got away pretty much unscathed. A bloody nose, some scratches and a laceration.”

“What brought that on?” Theresa asked and Henry could hear people speaking in the background. She was probably out in the city and he had worried her with his message. “Usually only the fans look like that in the end. Not the players.”

Seems like you can’t even win against us when you buy yourself a player.

There was no denying that. Bartosch was good, but if the team around him could not deal with him he was as useless as any of them alone.

As soon as your boyfriend leaves you are a lost puppy that…

That had been a little bit below the belt but still was not justification for what Erik had done.

Istvan’s dog.

Everyone seemed to know that there was or had been something going on between these two. Hans was just pointing out the obvious, that the team was lost without his brain and that Von Bergow’s attempt to fill the void with Bartosch had not worked at all. The team would have probably done a better job if Von Bergow had not brought in another player at all and let it just naturally play out. A power struggle was not the best thing to have in a team.

With Suchdol it was clear who held the reins. Zizka was the captain and there was no doubt about that. You followed his orders and if you didn’t like them, you called him an idiot and followed them anyway, except for when you actually had a better idea. Olda would probably be the next judging with how Zizka involved him with everything and Henry could not imagine anyone among the others in his class that suited the position better.

“Some taunts were thrown around that the other team could not handle,” Henry sighed.

“Why am I not surprised?” Theresa replied. “What did you say?”

“I said nothing,” Henry immediately defended himself but then heard her chuckle on the other end of the line. “Quit pulling my leg, tell me what you are up to instead.”

“Just running a couple of errands while I have the time, before I go to my session.” Theresa’s uncle had gotten her a therapist as soon as she got to Liverpool, something Radzig had tried to, but Henry just kept missing his appointments and when confronted just told Radzig to quit acting like he cared, when he had not in the last 17 years.

“Then I won’t keep you any longer. I will call you after, ok?” Henry really wanted to tell her about Bartosch, even if she was going to make fun of him.

“I will quote you on that.” Henry could hear her smile though the phone. She was doing good. Way better than he was. “Bye, Henry.”

“Bye, Theresa.” And with that he hung up.

They were met with confusion from the other students and a pissed looking Captain when they stepped out of the bus.

“We did not start the fighting,” Hynek said and crossed his arms in front of his chest defensively. “Erik punched Hans first.”

“And what did he do to get punched?” the Captain asked.

“Taunt him a bit,” Kubyenka jumped to Hans’ defence too. “Nothing you couldn’t handle.”

“And what happed after Hans got punched for something that was apparently so miniscule?”

“Bohuta and Adder held Erik back, while Henry brought Hans to the infirmary.” Zizka pushed towards the front of the group until he was standing between the captain and his team. “Erik headbutted Bohuta and Hynek jumped in to help him until Trosky came to their senses and pulled Erik away for good.”

“They are not lying, my friend,” Godwin who had finally found his way towards the front insisted. “I thought that this was a getting to hostile, so I decided to leave early.”

“Well, if it is like that…” For a second Henry could hear everyone take a sigh of relief before the Captain continued speaking and smashed all their relief to bits. “Then it is only half a week of detention for everyone.”

Chapter Text

“We have had enough!” Hynek and Kubyenka proclaimed on Monday morning.

“If one of you calls me Dry Devil again, I am going to hang you from the flagpole by your underwear.” The Dry Devil put his coffee cup down on the table with such force that Henry’s honey toast shook. “We are going to find that booze today and be done with it.”

Their detention was pushed towards the end of their school week, when the holiday was over, and so the team had gathered at their table like every morning, only a bit later since it was Independence Day.

The Saturday and Sunday had been a bit weird since news had spread almost as soon as they all walked into the school, still in their football kits, sweaty and looking defeated.

As they all split up on the way to their rooms to shower, some of the other boys stopped and asked what was going on, why were they back already, but none of them really wanted to answer. They all just wanted to shower and eat something.

While Godwin checked on Hans’ bandage again, Henry had gone to their room and showered, scrubbing his skin until it had turned pink and he could not feel the cold sticking to him anymore. He had been changing into his sweatpants/pyjama pants and a school sweater when Hans had come in.

“What did Godwin say?” Henry had asked and pulled his mother’s cross out of his collar so it could rest on the black sweater, creating a barrier between his skin and the still cold silver.

“Same as Musa,” Hans had sighed and peeled himself out of his jacket. “I will be fine. Just a little scar. Nothing too dramatic.”

“That’s good to hear. Did he give you some meds?” It had felt a bit strange talking to Hans and not trying to rile him up in the process, but it was probably better for the team if they got on, and school would probably be a lot more fun if he was not arguing with his roommate every chance he got and with the weather getting colder, Henry could not keep running into the woods.

With a silent nod Hans had disappeared into the bathroom, pulling the door only half closed but this time Henry did not scream at him for it.

“And what makes you think that you can find what you have been looking for all year now?” Olda asked. “Did you remember anything?”

“No.” The Devil lived up to his name with the murderous glare he shot Olda. “We are going to find it because you all will help us look for it.”

That got a round of complaints from the other team members.

“You lost it.”

“Why do we have to look for it?”

“Are you sure you did not just drink it yourselves?”

“Guys,” Zizka spoke up and everyone suddenly fell silent. “Think about it this way. If we find the booze, we can drink the booze and what better way to celebrate our victory.”

“It wasn’t really-” Olda started but one look from Zizka made him shut up too.

“Everybody, fuel up, get your jackets and then we will find this godforsaken liquor,” Hynek said, sat back down to eat his breakfast and added a bit quieter: “Then this Dry Devil business will stop too.”

“I don’t think you will ever get rid of that nickname,” Henry told him honestly.

“I know, but I just want it off my conscience, man,” the Devil replied and tied his hair back, to dive into his porridge headfirst.

It was a clear day. They had left the dreary weather behind in Trosky and only had to deal with the cold that came with an autumn morning now, and Henry could deal with that, as long as it did not suddenly start raining and he stayed away from the stream for the most part.

I could bring Mutt. The thought alone lightened his mood.

Since the first day where the stray let Henry pet him, he had continued to bring him food, and it had gotten to the point where Mutt waited for him at the tree stump on weekends. Maybe he would be around there today too.

Sure. Mutt could probably not sniff out where Hynek and Kubyenka hid the booze but…he would be a fine companion for the search, maybe lighten everybody’s mood a bit, because who did not like a cute dog tagging along?

“Are you sure he doesn’t bite?” Hans asked and eyed Mutt sceptically, who barked at the blond excitedly as the football team gathered at the treeline, before jumping at Henry who just threw him a sausage.

“He hasn’t bitten me yet,” Henry replied and watched Mutt making the rounds getting pats from the other boys and another sausage from Janosh.

“But he likes you,” Hans replied and gave Mutt a careful pat on the head before the dog barked at him again and Hans drew his hand back as if Mutt had snapped at him.

“Are you afraid of dogs too?” Henry asked and called Mutt over with a whistle to sit at his side, which Mutt followed and made Hans visibly relax.

“No,” Hans insisted and wrapped his arms around himself, drawing his jacket tighter. It was the same leather jacket Henry had seen him wear to the trip to Trosky. Most of the boys were wearing their thicker jackets now, not just the school blazers, but not Henry. He had not bought a jacket when he had gone out with Theresa, and the one Radzig had brought for him he had left behind. Currently his sports jacket and a sweater were enough, but for how long?

Hans looked quite cozy wrapped in the scarf Janosh had knitted for him, his cheeks a bit rosy from the cold and his eyes the same shade of blue as the clear morning sky.

“I am just not sure about this one,” Hans added. “Or when he was washed the last time.”

“It is a wild dog, Hans,” Olda sighed and put a hand on the blonde’s shoulder. “He can do whatever he desires.”

“Well, I would like him to stay away from me until he has been washed.” Hans stayed persistent. “What if he has a parasite or something?”

Henry was pretty certain Mutt was fine but made sure to stand between Hans and the dog, just in case the blond really was afraid of dogs. Or germs, but Henry doubted that. Hans would not have slept in a booze soaked shirt if he was, would he?

“He will grow on you,” Ranyek replied and then turned to Mutt with the biggest smile on his face. “Won’t you, Mutt? Won’t you be the best boy ever?”

Before Hans could protest the Dry Devil climbed onto a log and clapped once to get everyone’s attention.

“We will be conducting a grid search,” he explained. “We will go section by section, walking in a straight line, looking at everything until we find we find what we are looking for.”

“Which includes…” Kubyenka pulled out a piece of paper and began reading what sounded like the grocery list of an alcoholic. “Six crates of beer, Adder’s babunia’s Sliwowica – which will make you go blind – Vodka and Schnaps.”

“I have every amount listed on here so-” Kubyenka turned towards the fourteen- and fifteen-year-olds on the team- “if any of you steal something I will know.”

“Oh, come on,” the boys complained. “You were probably drinking at our age too.”

“Yeah, we did a lot of shit when we were young,” Zizka chimed in from where he was leaning against a tree. “That doesn’t mean you will do it too. Good luck next year, buddy.”

“Where do we start?” Hans asked over the groans of the younger boys and tugged a golden strand behind his ear.

“We know it is not on the eastern side, since we never go there,” Kubyenka explained and pulled out a map.

Looks like Olda helped them with planning, Henry thought and got closer to see what his friend was explaining, Mutt never leaving his side.

“We go from the northern part beyond the field along the western side until we reach the river,” the Dry Devil explained, following the route with his long, spindly fingers. “And before anyone asks- yes, we have looked everywhere in the river, and no, it is not in the moat.”

“So that is what you were doing all those nights when you came back wet,” Bohuta said like a lightbulb had just gone off in his head.

“What else did you think we were doing?” the Devil replied. “Going for a midnight swim?”

“To his defence,” Ranyek chimed in. “That kind of was what you were doing.”

“And they had a good reason for it,” Matthew added and put a hand on Ranyek’s shoulder, who let out a groan.

“Are you ever going to let that down?”

“Nope,” Matthew admitted, not even trying to not look smug.

“Quit chatting and get to it.” Kubyenka rolled up his map, stuffed into what looked like an old military coat and hurried them all to the northern end of the football field.

“Don’t forget,” Zizka warned them, “don’t get too close to the poisonous plants.”

“Do we look like we know what those look like?” Adder replied, who was somehow walking around in shorts and a hoodie and not freezing.

“Hynek for sure doesn’t,” Zizka sighed and put his – honestly ridiculous looking – bobble hat on, that made Janosh’s eyes shine.

“You are wearing the hat I made you.”

“Of course I am,” Zizka replied. “Now get to work.”

“If this turns out to be for nothing,” Hans whispered to Henry, “then at least it was worth just to see Zizka in that hat.”

Henry held back a chuckle. It was certainly a sight he thought he would never see. Zizka had almost something of a bunny with his red bobble hat or better a reindeer.

“He looks like Rudolf,” Henry whispered to Hans, who looked like he was about to cry, from holding his laughter back. Instead of laughing at their captain, who would certainly not appreciate that, Hans just boxed Henry in the shoulder that wasn’t already hurting.

“I hate you.” It had no real bite.

“No, you don’t,” Henry replied, head held high. “You tolerate me.”

“We will see for how long.”

“On further…”

“Quit chatting!” Hynek cut Henry of and pointed at Mutt. “Put that dog of yours to use.”

“But he is not a police dog,” Henry replied and leaned down to Mutt. “He is just a good boy.”

Hynek rolled his eyes so hard it looked like they would fall out of his head. “Just get on with it!”

“So, you are one hundred percent certain that you did not just drink it?” Henry asked. It was already three pm and Hynek and Kubyenka had not allowed a lunch break. They had searched most of the northern woods and were nearing the area Henry had seen them search the day he had met Hans in the woods.

“Yes, goddammit,” Hynek insisted. “We are not that stupid.”

“Didn’t you black out?” Ranyek asked and sat down on a log.

“That is not the point,” Hynek replied. “I at least made it back to the school, unlike other people.”

Confused, Hans and Henry followed Hynek’s gaze to Janosh, who had sat down next to Olda and Ranyek on the log, that looked a bit too moist for Henry to consider sitting down too.

“Oh, come on, let me take a break in peace,” Janosh complained when he saw the Devil looking at him. “That happened one time.”

“That you did not make it out of the woods?” Hans asked, avoiding leaning against a tree and the moss on its north side.

“That I thought it was a good idea to sleep in a leaf tent when I couldn’t find my way back,” Janosh corrected him.

“It was pretty impressive,” Adder admitted. “I walked past you three times while looking for you in the morning when you had not come back.”

“But in the end, you found me, my swee-”

“Yes, my sweet Adder. Bla, bla, bla,” Kubyenka cut Janosh off, “Can we get back to searching?”

“If we keep running around the woods with no indicators on where it is, we will never find it,” Henry replied. “We can turn the forest over and then it will be somewhere completely different, because you in your drunken stupor thought no one is going to look there. We need indicators, some clues, a breadcrumb, anything.”

Henry just wanted to get this over with before they reached the river, which he could not hear yet, but he was certain that they would reach it before finding anything if they just kept walking through the woods, heads down in the weeds.

“Henry is right,” Zizka agreed and fixed his hat which still made Henry almost chuckle anytime he caught a glimpse of it in the corner of his eye. “What do you guys all remember?”

“Well…most of us were already gone when you guys took the booze into the woods, right?” Olda asked into the round and the majority nodded. The younger ones – after they had been informed that there would be no reward at the end of this for them – had quit the search in favour of a warm tea in front of the fireplace, watching the leaves fall from inside the castle and enjoying the holiday, which Henry did not blame them for. He would rather be doing that to and continuing his book but instead he was here, helping look for liquor that was not even his.

“I remember you guys disappearing in the direction of the river,” Matthew chimed in.

Please not, Henry thought, please not the river.

“But you said you searched all of that already, right?” Hans jumped in.

“We did,” Kubyenka agreed, pushed his hair out of his face and frowned deep in thought. “I remember us being at the bonfire and the next thing I knew, I was waking up with a headache and that fucking rash on my arm.”

At that Henry perked up. “Rash? What rash?”

“Red,” Hynek offered, “itched like hell. I had it too, all over my arms. Godwin told us it was probably form a plant or something.”

“Did he say what plant?” Henry pressed on and Zizka seemed to catch onto his idea, because his eyes widened, before he buried his face in his hands with a frustrated sigh.

“Poison ivy. Why…” And then Kubyenka seemed to get it too. His eyes widened in recognition and he hit his forehead with the flat of his hand. “You are a genius, Henry.”

“What is going on?” Olda asked, but the others seemed equally confused.

“I would not say I am a genius,” Henry insisted. “More…observant.”

“What-” Ranyek started, but this time Zizka cut him off.

“What have we been saying this whole time?” he asked and Bohuta was quick to answer.

“Stay away from the poison- Oh!”

“What!?” Ranyek asked while the other all slowly seemed to catch onto Henry’s idea.

“What is the one place you would know someone would not voluntarily search for something in the woods?” Hans, who had caught on as soon as Henry had asked about the rash, asked, only to give the answer himself. “A place covered in poisonous plants.”

“There is a hollowed-out tree covered in ivy one hundred metres into the woods form the fire pit,” Henry informed the others and the next thing they knew, they were running.

After a hurried dinner they all practically ran to their rooms, confusing the rest of the school that was used to the team sticking around a bit longer than the usual crowed to talk and mess around, but not this time.

“Put on warm clothes,” Zizka reminded them as they all split up to go to their rooms. “I don’t want anybody getting sick, we have another game before Christmas and you will be left behind.”

Kuttenberg, another all-boys school, that they were actually on good terms with, at least that was what Henry gathered from the reaction at dinner, when Zizka announced the game that was supposed to take place right before winter break, after they were done with all their exams.

Maybe Henry would learn more about them later that evening, but first he needed to find an outfit he was not going to freeze in. He was just about to pull one pullover over another when Hans spoke up from his side of the room.

“I can’t look at this.”

Confused, Henry lowered his arms and watched as his roommate went over to his closet and pulled out a long, brown, wool coat with a red lining, before offering Henry his leather jacket.

“What are you…” Henry asked – still confused – and accepted the jacket that Hans pressed against his chest, his fingers grazing the cross that dangled from Henry’s neck.

“That won’t look good on me. What kind of roommate would I be if I let you freeze,” Hans explained. “I don’t want to see you shiver all evening.”

Henry held back an eyeroll. Everything was always “I” “I” “I” with Hans, but it was a nice leather jacket, that would keep him warm while they sat around the campfire and enjoyed their hard-earned beer.

And maybe – just maybe – the alcohol would loosen Hans’ tongue and he would tell Henry more. About what happened to him. Why everything needed to be for a crowd with him, even when it was just the two of them and Henry did not care if Hans’ posture was that of a ballerina or if he looked like a shrimp.

“I want it back after,” Hans added and let himself fall onto his bed. “It is not a gift, but a loan for our hero.”

At the last word Henry really rolled his eyes this time. Kubyenka and the Dry Devil had started calling him that after the booze had really been in that ivy covered tree he had always avoided to not get a rash, like those to idiots had apparently done when they hid the booze.

“I am just doing the best I can,” Henry replied and put the leather jacket on. It fit, not in the effortlessly cool way that Hans could wear it, since Henry’s shoulders where a bit wider, but it still fit.

“Quit being humble,” Hans said after taking a look at his watch and standing up, before putting his coat on that looked long enough to sweep the floor. “We are going to be late.”

Chapter Text

The campfire was already burning when they made it to the clearing where all the marigolds had stood just a couple of weeks prior.

Adder and Matthew already had beers in hand that looked mostly empty and were jumping around the fire while Zizka and Janosh sipped at their beers in moderation, just shaking their heads at the other two.

“Here we go.” Ranyek appeared, seemingly out of nowhere and offered them two bottles which they gladly took, before he went over to Olda, who was currently throwing more wood into the fire, which send sparks flying into the already darkening sky.

“Our hero has arrived,” the brown-haired boy joked as they clinked their bottles together.

“Our hero Henry,” Hans agreed taking a sip before he added: “That sounds like a good chorus. I should write that down for Michael and George.”

Hans began searching the pockets of his coat, before going for his – currently Henry’s – leather jacket, but Henry knocked his hands away. “No, you won’t. They will make it into a song and I don’t want to hear that.”

“So, you admit that they are bad,” Olda cheered in a way that Henry suspected that he was already on his second or third beverage. How much had they drunk while Henry and Hans were still getting ready?

“They are not bad,” Henry defended his friends. “I just…don’t want to get praised for something so unimportant.”

“Oh, you helping us find our stash was something for the history books,” the Dry Devil chimed in from behind them and put an arm around Henry, making an elaborate gesture with the beer bottle in his other hand. “One for the history books. The great hero Henry saved his teammates from dehydration and humiliation.”

“Did he though?” Hans asked, raising an eyebrow and barely containing his smile. “Dry Devil.”

“Do you want to find out how my fists taste?” Hynek asked in return and Hans bit his lip to contain his smile.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Hans let out, like a breath he had been holding for way too long, before ducking under Hynek’s hand, who had tried to swat his ear. “Not fast enough.”

“That’s enough,” Henry insisted, pushing Hynek back over to Zizka and Kubyenka, his gaze for a second catching on Adder and Janosh, the latter with his leg thrown over the other’s lap, and who were talking to each other in hushed voices.

“You already got beaten up once in this last week and I am not carrying you back to the school again,” Henry warned him.

“You say that like it happens all the time.” Hans rolled his eyes. “And you were not carrying me. And I am not that heavy.”

“You were like a sack of potatoes hanging onto me,” Henry replied and was only exaggerating a bit. In the moment he was too busy with bringing Hans to safety but in retrospect…Was that how Theresa had felt, dragging him up the hill in the rain? Had her mind been too occupied with getting them out of there to be scared? To worry that Henry would maybe not make it?

He had not worried about Capon, but that was maybe because it was Capon.

Everything had happened so fast. One minute he was talking – flirting – with Bartosch, the next Hans was lying in the grass, blood in his golden hair.

The firelight eerily reminded Henry of that moment. The red of the flames catching in Hans’ hair, making it seem more orange than gold.

The blond had already emptied his first bottle in order to “catch up.”

“Come on, Henry,” Hans whined, when Henry pointed out that the evening would not be long if he kept drinking like that. “Don’t be a buzzkill.”

Getting Hans drunk to get behind his secrets was going to be much easier than Henry had expected.

Henry wanted to know, he was starved to know why…Why Hans acted like it was no big deal that he got kidnapped. Why he always had to put up not a mask but a performance.

This Hans, drinking with Olda and Ranyek, was still Hans just…the way he carried himself like a dancer on a stage, when he knew people were watching him and he had time to think about it.

During practice Henry could see Hans’ curtain fall from afar. He was running, he was shouting, he was too busy to care what others thought and the arrogance would fall away to the desire to be better.

No, not like this.

Olda is free, you idiot.

But before Henry could pry for secrets, the captain’s speech began.

“Men, as you know we have a game against Kuttenberg in about two months,” he announced again for everyone that had been too busy at dinner to hear him the first time, which got cheers from some of the boys, that Zizka promptly ignored. “You know what that means?”

“Going out afterwards!” Janosh answered, clearly poking fun at Zizka.

“Girls,” Adder added with a wink.

“Not being stuck in a fucking castle for once,” Olda tried to tame the replies a bit, with no luck as the Devil was next.

“Climbing the belltower drunk.”

“Training,” Zizka sighed and looked like he was regretting his life choices. “It means training; we start the day after tomorrow so you idiots have the time to sleep off your hangover and then we are right back at it.”

“But we just got back from Trosky,” Matthew complained. “Give us a break, Zizka. We have tests coming up, you know?”

“We are in the same class. You are my roommate; we have the same tests coming up. Don’t complain like you actually care about school.”

“You got me,” Matthew admitted with an almost proud smile, put an arm around Zizka’s shoulders and pushed another bottle of beer into his hands. “But let loose, captain. You say training starts the day after tomorrow? Then relax a bit. We practically won against Trosky. We are going great.”

“Because they don’t work as a team,” even Ranyek joined in, taking a sip of his beer before continuing. “In Kuttenberg they can actually stand each other.”

“I don’t want to hear any of this. For tonight, everything related to the tournament is banned,” Hynek decided and lifted his beer bottle into the air like a torch. “Tonight, we celebrate.”

“Henry.

Our hero Henry.

The fellow who helps his fellow man.

Henry, reliable Henry.

He gets the job done the best he can.”

Turns out they did not need George or Michael to make a song about him. His teammates could do that all on their own, which should not have surprised him, except that even Olda was singing with them.

“I hate you,” Henry told Hans as his roommate left the circle of chanting teenagers around the fire pit to plop down onto the log next to Henry, while the shadows of their teammates danced in the trees like demons. To any outsider they would have looked like a cult.

“Then give me my jacket back,” Hans grinned.

“No,” Henry replied and wrapped himself tighter in the jacket, that was actually quite comfortable. “It is mine now.”

“That is news to me.” Hans pretended to be offended, but in the end just laughed. He was already quite drunk since he had drunk a lot more than Henry and even dared to try some of Adder’s babunia’s Sliwowica, but he seemed to be holding his weight quite well.

“At least it fits me properly,” Henry argued.

“But it looks better on me,” Hans replied. “I am more of a warm tone. You need…like black or dark brown.”

“Is the colour analysis included in the room service, or do I need to pay extra?”

“Since you are a first-time customer, you get this one for free.”

Henry hid his smile behind his bottle and took another sip, before shaking his head and decided to continue the bit – even if it was stupid – just to see where Hans would take this. “A bit of a shit business model, isn’t it? You generally only need one colour matching in your life.”

“But we offer additional services too. Like a personal stylist.” Now Hans just sounded like he was introducing an actual hotel he went to, even if his smile was not only apparent in his voice but also on his face.

“Sorry, too poor to afford that,” Henry cut the bit short before Hans could come up with “additional services” of other varieties and took another sip of his beer – for courage – before coming to the question he though would naturally lead Hans to telling him a bit more about his home life. “What are your plans for the Christmas holidays? I take it you will go visit your uncle and go bow hunting again.”

“Depends,” Hans sighed and fell back onto the log, his head now resting a hand’s width from Henry’s leg on the thick, green moss that seemed almost black in the firelight and against the gold of Hans hair, that framed his face like a halo.

“On what?” Henry asked and leaned back on his hands, after emptying his bottle.

“Where Hanus wants to drag me to this year,” Hans replied and began listing them off. “Is it the estate in Rattay? The London House? The Paris House? The Jagdhaus im Schwarzwald? The Salzburg House? The…”

“Your family sure has a lot of property,” Henry sighed and stood up.

“Where are you going?” Hans looked up at him with pleading, blue eyes as if he were a hamster begging Henry not to abandon him. Oh god no, Hans was a clingy drunk.

“You want some more?” Henry asked and lifted his empty bottle, which seemed to relieve Hans.

“Yes, please.”

“Coming right up, my liege.”

“Thank you, my loyal peasant.”

Henry just shook his head and got a couple more bottles, opening two on the log, before giving one to Hans, who still lay on the moss, his coat a barrier between him and the cold, and sitting down next to him again.

“Wouldn’t I be a knight?” Henry asked.

“No.” Hans shook his head. “A knight doesn’t bring his charge beer.”

“But I thought I was the hero,” Henry replied, watching Janosh throw more wood into the fire.

The light did not reach further than the trees that surrounded them. Just a small island of light in absolute darkness that was the same to all sides except the sky, where a light sprinkling of stars made their way through the clouds and lit up the darkness of space.

“I have found the treasure and defeated the mighty poisonous ivy, for which your lordship proclaimed me a hero.”

“Still not enough,” Hans insisted, stuck his tongue out at Henry and took a sip of his beer, before resting his head on the log again, his hair now brushing against Henry’s leg. “What will you do for Christmas?”

Seemed like Henry was not the only one with questions here.

“I have not thought about it much,” Henry lied. He wanted to go spend Christmas with Theresa in Liverpool, but for that he would have to ask Radzig for money and Theresa had to agree, but Henry was not too worried about the latter. They had not seen each other face to face in months at this point and he missed her terribly. He wanted to listen to her talk about her school and see the smile on her face. He wanted to tell her about Mutt and the football team and just see that she was alright. The former was more the problem.

Technically Henry had the money. He inherited all what was left of his parents’ money, which, first of all, wasn’t much, second of all, most of which had been tied down in the house and the shop, and thirdly…It wasn’t really his money. It was his parents’ money. Just because they were not here to spend it did not mean he could use it.

Maybe Radzig would get him back to London and then he could go from there. That wasn’t too unattainable. He had nowhere to spend his pocket money so he could spare some for a trip to Theresa and maybe he could buy a gift for her when they went to Kuttenberg. He did not want to just pick up something on the way to her. He wanted it to be something special.

But that all kind of hinged on Radzig paying for his trip back to London, which would probably mean that he wanted something in exchange. His father was a businessman after all, which had been made apparent when his lawyers somehow got the insurance company to pay up when they did not want to.

They had argued that flooding had been removed from the list of things the shop and the house were insured for, which was true. After the first flooding it had been taken out, but the embankment being build had changed things. The clause was supposed to be re-entered into the policies at the end of the year.

Which in non-lawyer speak meant: the embankment made flooding unlikely, therefore they could be insured against it again and the insurance would get more money again.

Henry, at some point, had given up on understanding what the fuck was going on, but the plan was to get the insurance to pay up and for them to sue the investor that built the embankment. He wondered if Radzig was still onto that or if he had given up too.

“But I am probably going to spend it with a friend, if everything works out for me. So, it would be me, her and her uncle this year. And for you?” Perfect segue to bring this back to Hans. “Just you, your uncle and the butler?”

“Probably,” Hans agreed and sat up to get a new bottle where Henry had placed them next to the log. Hans was drinking at an almost concerning speed. Henry was not even halfway finished with his, which was why he declined when Hans offered him a new bottle.

“Just me-” Hans opened his beer with a golden lighter he had pulled out of his pocket, that looked way too expensive to open such cheap beer with it “-my uncle, and whatever friend he invites along. So, maybe…”

Hans put his lighter away and clicked his bottle against Henry’s, before taking a sip. “Maybe I will spend Christmas with a friend too.”

So there really was just Hans and his uncle.

“What are you two talking about?” Janosh asked, plopped himself down on the log and laid his head in Henry’s lap.

And – by a rare stroke of luck or genius – they both replied: “Business ventures.”

For a second Henry and Hans just stared at the other, before giving each other a high five, smiling like they just won the lottery.

“Fine,” Janosh sighed, closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around himself as he wanted to fall asleep with his head in Henry’s lap. “Keep your secrets.”

“And what are you doing?” Hans asked and flicked against Janosh’s ear, which made the older boy open his eyes again.

“Can I not spend time with my two favourite newcomers?” Janosh replied and held his ear, looking like an innocent lamb.

“We are the only newcomers,” Henry said and looked around to find Adder chatting with Matthew and Kubyenka, not even sparing them a glance. Usually, these two were inseparable. What happened? Had they fought? No. Henry would have seen that. They had been at the fire this whole time, hadn’t they? Henry had been a bit distracted by Hans, but they could not have been talking for that long.

The chanting of “Our hero Henry” had thankfully stopped some time ago, but everyone was still engaging in conversation as usual.

“A handsome boy, that is what you are,” Janosh replied, ruffled Henry’s hair and giggled. Giggled. Like a little girl. Anything that came out of Janosh’s mouth now was automatically not taken seriously. 

“But he needs a haircut, don’t you think?” Suddenly Hans was leaning against him, his chest pressing into Henry’s side and his hand tugging at Henry hair, that really had grown a bit unkempt since the last time he cut it, which had been maybe in April.

“Uh.” Janosh’s brown eyes lit up and the older boy sat up so fast that he almost headbutted Henry and Hans, who let go of Henry’s hair, but still stayed glued to his side, in the process. “Adder can cut it. He has been doing my and his hair for years.”

Henry just nodded, trying to look not too distracted, while Janosh waved Adder over, who just so happened to look over to them in that moment and began talking to him about something – probably hair – but Henry was not paying attention.

He felt like a furnace. His heart felt like it was pumping pure fire though his chest and all cold had disappeared from his body. The fire made his face burn and he felt about ready to burst into flames as Olda threw another armful of logs onto the fire.

Hans rested his head on Henry’s shoulder with a sigh that told Henry that he was tired. So, he was a tired and clingy drunk. This was just getting better.

“You are warm,” Hans murmured, sounding already half asleep, and leaned his whole bodyweight against Henry, whose face burnt from the new heat springing up from the fresh logs.

“I knew you two would get along.” Adder’s voice made Henry’s head snap away from the fire.

“What a little intervention can do,” Janosh agreed and smiled, seemingly very proud of himself.

“Next time just don’t lock me in a basement with barred windows,” Hans murmured, sounding quite drowsy.

If they tried that again, Henry was going to break down the door. Or pick the lock. Whatever would be faster.

“Come on.” Henry stood up and pulled Hans, who looked a bit unsteady on his feet, to his feet too. “Let’s get you back into our room before you get any ideas.”

Hans did not complain when Henry pulled him away from the fire after saying a quick goodbye to Janosh and Adder and past a quite determined looking Ranyek, who was eyeing a tree. Henry did not want to be there for that debacle.

Chapter Text

“You look like a minstrel.”

It had been four weeks since the Trosky game, detention had been served, training was back on, Adder had just cut Henry’s hair the evening before and had – surprisingly – done a rather good job.

“I will take that as a compliment,” Henry replied to Hans’ comment and pushed a hand through his hair, that was still quite long compared to how Henry had worn it all his life, but at least it looked cleaner now and it stayed out of his face for the most part.

“You should,” Olda agreed as he stepped in to help Ranyek lift the crossbeam onto the side beams Hans and Henry were holding straight to complete the frame of the goal.

It was a cold but dry morning. Everything was crisp, the frozen grass crunching beneath their feet as they carried the frame of the other goal out of the shed and their breaths danced around them in white clouds.

“Please tell me that the Kuttenberg game is not outside,” Henry said and helped Ranyek twist the heavier bottom part of the frame together, before he helped Olda and Hans put one of the side beams onto an upright position. “I am already freezing.”

It was a sharp, biting cold, that made its way through his jacket, the jersey and the thermal clothing the school thankfully provided for the team too, without which they all would probably be icicles right now.

“They have an indoor pitch,” Olda assured him and heaved the crossbeam into position with Hans’ help, almost slipping on the frozen grass in the process.

“Next time the others can do this and we lay out the field,” Hans complained and jumped up, holding onto the crossbeam and making it snap into place by pulling it down with his weight, before letting go of it again. The beam was probably freezing cold against his fingers, whose coldness he had already been complaining about the last couple of sessions.

“Can you draw a straight line and make sure it is even on every side by eye alone?” Ranyek asked and threw the net over to Olda, who was standing at the other side beam, so they could both hang it at the same time.

“I don’t know if I could do it straight but how hard can it be?” Hans asked, “The fourteen-year-olds can do it.”

The blond vaguely pointed in the direction of the younger players that were laying out the pitch with measuring-tape, flashlights and the patience of saints, while Zizka overlooked them, nervously glancing at his watch from time to time.

The captain was wearing one of Janosh’s hats again, this time one that was a bit less ridiculous but still red. He had been the first one out on the field, only closely followed by Olda and – to their dismay – Ranyek, Hans and Henry too, since their friend had dragged them to breakfast as early as possible.

The promise of sunrise was just coming over the tops of the trees as Henry and Hans walked past the younger players, who were using their flashlight beams to lay the little cones they used to mark the playing field in a straight line down the side, over to the half-finished goal to hang the net and there was still nothing to be seen of Kubyenka or the Devil.

Janosh and Adder had since shown up looking in dire need of a coffee, but at least they were here, unlike their goalie, who would be rather handy if they wanted to train free kicks today.

Janosh and Adder…they were still acting a bit strange. And not in their normal “they are literally attached by the hip” strange. No. In fact nothing major had changed, they were still attached by the hip. It was just…there seemed to be a certain…uncertainty in their actions now, a split-second delay before Adder put his hand around Janosh’s shoulder and Janosh laughing louder at Adder’s jokes, like he had to prove something, or maybe Henry was just seeing things. Nobody else seemed to notice it, or if they did, they did not show it.

“You got any idea where the Devil is?” Henry asked and threw the net over to Hans who caught it with ease. “I didn’t see him at breakfast.”

“That is because Olda dragged us there as soon as Bozhena put your beloved pancakes in the pan,” Hans replied and tied first the upper and then the lower corner into their places.

Their relationship had improved quite a bit since the Trosky game, which Henry attributed mostly to them not throwing insults at each other as soon as the opportunity presented itself, and the cold.

Henry could not hang around in the woods anymore and did not want to disturb Olda and Ranyek with studying so he had started to spend more time in their room, hanging up the plants that were ready and decorating his walls with their studies, taping the dried flowers to paper sheets and writing everything down next to them that he could remember. Even the stories of how they got their names or that were told about them, which made the room feel much less like just Hans’ room that he also slept in.

Sometimes, when he came out of the shower or back from dinner, he caught Hans reading them. At first the blond had just retreated back to his side of the room to keep working on the paper he was procrastinating or to read his book, but after a week of that Hans just started asking questions.

What does this plant do?

What is written here? I can’t quite decipher it.

It was quite fun. And while Henry talked about his plants, Hans provided some insight into his history notes that lined the walls.

Everything we will do has already been done before in a way.

So, we can do nothing new?

No, I would not say that. I can take a picture of a flower, but if there are 1000 of pictures of that exact flower out here, mine will still be unique.

“But usually, he would be here by now,” Henry said and stood up after tying the corners on his side into place. “And don’t tell me he froze on the spot as soon as he set foot out the door. It is not that cold. You are just sensitive.”

“Sensitive? I am just taller, that is why the blood flow to my extremities stops earlier than yours,” Hans replied just as Kubyenka came running from the castle.

“You are not that much taller,” Henry scoffed and pretended not to listen in on Zizka and Kubyenka, who were talking just a couple of metres from them.

“What do you mean he got detention?” Zizka asked. “For what? We just got out of it!”

They had spent the latter half of the week after Trosky cleaning out the attics, where some of them had maybe acquired some new furniture. Hans and Henry had gotten hold of a blue and gold rug that – in addition to their notes on the walls – now made their room look much less like a stock photo and more like a home. No warm coats to steal though.

“He made a ruckus in the hallways right under the Captain’s quarters and woke him up,” Kubyenka explained. “So he gave him detention for disturbing the peace.”

Henry looked over to Hans who did not seem at all surprised, same as Zizka, who let out a deep sigh and rubbed his eyes like a tired father who had just seen his children dump out a bucket of flour onto the floor.

“And there was no persuading him?” Zizka asked but Kubyenka just shook his head.

“He sent him to Godwin to look through the bibles and choir books students have drawn into.” The brown-haired boy looked over at Adder. “To sort them out and probably use them as firewood.”

“Great,” Zizka sighed and looked over to Hans and Henry, who went back to pretending to work on the goal, as if they had not been listening in on their conversation.

“You two.” Their captain waved them over and Hans and Henry stood up, a bit unsure of where this was going to go.

“Yes, you two. Get over here.” At that demand the two boys let the goal be and walked over to the other two.

“You are good with Godwin, right?” Zizka asked and Henry just shrugged. Was he good with Godwin? They talked about plants and the old priest gave him some of his books from time to time. Same for Hans, but with him it was history and they spoke in Latin sometimes, which…was about the most pretentious shit Henry had ever heard.

“You could say that,” Hans said eventually, still sounding a bit unsure, but Zizka did not care.

“Great, then go and tell him we need the Devil for training. He can get to the bible sorting or whatever tomorrow when we are not running drills, but not today.”

“That is one way to get out of the cold,” Hans shrugged and looked over at Henry.

“Sure,” Henry agreed. “Can’t guarantee that he is going to let the Devil go though. He is probably pissed at him too if the captain woke him up, because of him.”

“Just try it, ok?” Zizka sighed. How this had not yet given him grey hairs was a riddle to Henry. “We will run laps in the meantime and if you have to throw Adder under the bus as the one who was drawing in the books, do it. I don’t care. He won’t stop even if he gets a punishment for it.”

“I heard that!” Adder screamed from the other side of the pitch, but Zizka just ignored him, pushing Henry and Hans in the direction of the castle.

“Go.”

“Where are they going, exactly?” Olda asked as he ran up to the four of them.

“Getting the devil out of detention. Hopefully. And now…” Zizka turned towards the rest of the team, who had been mucking about, doing nothing while some of the younger players where still busy with laying out the pitch that now lay in the cold morning light.

“Everybody that is not helping is running laps to warm up.” Which none of them looked too pleased about, but they were all too tired to argue against.

“That’s what they get for not helping,” Olda said loud enough that the group of disgruntled teenagers walking past him could hear him and joined them with Kubyenka, who still seemed worried.

“We are not going to throw Adder under the bus, right?” Hans asked as they made their way back to the castle.

“Absolutely not,” Henry replied. “But we need a plan.”

“We do,” Hans agreed. “Otherwise Godwin is just going to say, put another bloke in the goal, which honestly…maybe we would score more then.”

“Very funny, Hans. And leave the Devil hanging? No way.” They had reached the main gate, where some of the other students were also passing through to get to the dining hall. Wait…Henry stopped right in the gateway from which you could see the dining room doors.

Hans ran almost into him, avoiding him just in time and followed Henry’s gaze only to roll his eyes. “You can’t tell me you are hungry again.”

“Do you think Godwin would let the Devil go and get out scot-free, even in the eyes of the Captain, if he had to help someone?” Henry asked and ignored Hans’ comment.

“You are not throwing me in the moat to cause a scene,” Hans replied and Henry blood ran cold.

“I would never do that,” he insisted, voice as serious as the Captain’s which made Hans teasing smile fall.

“I didn’t mean…I…What has you so serious now?”

The moat lay still, but it was deep and dark with no bottom in sight.

“Anyway. What is your plan?”

Hans’ voice snapped Henry back into reality. He ripped his eyes away from the water and back to his roommate, who was looking at him with a bit of worry in his eyes.

Was it his blood rushing in his ears or the water?

“Henry?” Hans reached for his shoulder, but Henry stepped away.

Get it together, Henry. You are not going to lose it at the mention of water. You were fine thirty seconds ago. Come on!

“Sorry, I’m still a bit tired.” Henry cleared his throat. Was his voice calm? It sounded calm in his head. Please. Please don’t think I am weird. “Do you think Bozhena would help us?”

“Probably,” Hans answered slowly and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “But with what and why?”

“Maybe she could ask Godwin for help with something, just as we show up for the Devil to be released at least for a time,” Henry suggested. “She always says we should come to her when we need anything and she wants us – the football team – to win at all times so…”

“Well, we will just have to ask her, won’t we?” Hans sighed and nodded towards the dining room. “After you.”

Turns out they did not even need to convince her.

“We need help,” Henry said and was about to explain, when she shut him up with one lifted finger.

“Whatever it is, my boy, I will be glad to help,” the elderly woman in the apron replied, who seemed to be an angel in disguise. “What do you need me to do?”

“Is there anything you need help with that you can’t do alone??” Hans jumped in. “Like moving something heavy or anything of that sort?”

“I could use help moving some stuff around in the freezer,” she admitted. “But why do you want do know that? Shouldn’t you be training by now?”

“Yes, we should,” Hans agreed. “But there is one slight problem. Our goalie has detention with Godwin right now, but if our good Father were to be called away for something that he could not refuse, like helping a wonderful young lady like you…”

“You don’t have to flatter me,” Bozhena laughed. “I already agreed to help you, didn’t I? So, what is your plan exactly? When do I show up?”

“So…” Now it was his turn to speak again. Back to the important objective that was not sweet-talking old ladies. “I was thinking – you wander in first, asking Godwin for help and when you have him on the line, we conveniently come in to ask if Hynek can come to the training if he does his chores later.”

“So, he is just postponing his punishment, you get help, Godwin won’t get any trouble from the Captain and we get our goalie,” Hans explained. “Everybody wins.”

“That sounds like a good plan indeed,” Bozhena agreed, disappeared into the kitchen for a second and then returned shortly after. “The stove is off; the boys have enough food left so they won’t starve while I am gone. Shall we get this show on the road?”

“I just hope this works,” Henry whispered and watched from behind the corner as Bozhena knocked at Father Godwin’s door.

“Have faith in Bozhena. I believe in her,” Hans whispered back and drew Henry around the corner by the back of his jacket just as the door opened so Godwin wouldn’t see them.

“Me too, just…” Henry peeked around the corner again. Bozhena was talking to Godwin, who looked as tired as Henry had felt when Olda had first knocked on their door this morning. The Devil was in the background surrounded by bibles which…yeah – Henry had to admit – was a funny image and he wished he had not left his phone behind in their room.

“I think we can go,” he whispered just as Bozhena smiled at Godwin, who…was the Priest turning red? Bozhena was really not having any issues convincing Godwin.

“Father,” Hans called, as they pretended to sprint around the corner and came to a hold in front of the two, leaning against the walls to look like they had just run all the way from the football field.

“We…” Hans took a deep breath and stood up a bit unsteady. He was really good at acting, Henry had to admit that. “We wanted to ask if Hynek can maybe join us for training.”

“He has-” Godwin started, but then looked at Bozhena, at Hynek and then back at Hans and Henry, who were still “catching” their breath, while the Devil looked as confused as Godwin until his face lit up like a lightbulb.

“Yeah, we know,” Henry agreed, doing his best to sell his part as well as Hans done it. “But he can always do it tomorrow, can’t he? Please.”

“We wanted to practice free kicks today,” Hynek chimed in, putting on his most innocent kitten act, that somehow worked even though he was taller than all of them. “And I love letting all the younger kids look stupid when they try to get past me.”

Godwin almost chuckled at that but saved it with a cough.

“I can’t-” Godwin stated again, but this time it was Hynek that cut him off.

“But didn’t you just promise to help Bozhena?”

“Yes, I did, but…”

“So, you want to keep an eye on me and help her at the same time,” the Devil concluded, “Am I supposed to help her too, because that was not what the Captain said.”

“He can just come back tomorrow, can’t he?” Bozhena asked and batted her eyelashes. “I have been pushing this off for so long, I want to get it done today, before I have to go shopping for the week. I need the room.”

“Fine,” Godwin agreed and Henry could have screamed with joy.

“But you will be here tomorrow morning at ten to help me, understood?” He added, turning back to Hynek.

“Got it, Father.”

Godwin shot the dry Devil a warning look.

“Sorry,” Hynek corrected himself. “Understood, Father Godwin.”

And with that they had freed the Devil out of the hands of the priest.

Chapter Text

“Maybe it was a bad idea to get you to make up,” Olda thought aloud, as Henry, Hans and Hynek returned to the field.

“Why?” Henry asked and took off his jacket and started warming up. The rest of the team was still running laps. Olda seemed to be the first to have returned to the pitch as the others were still far off in the distance.

“You lied to a priest to get the Devil out of detention.”

“The Dry Devil,” Hans corrected with a chuckle.

“I will let it slide this one time,” the Devil warned him but could not hide his smile himself. “I owe you. As good as Adder is at drawing, I did not want to sort through all those pages today.”

“You will still have to do it tomorrow though,” Henry reminded him and went over to stretching.

“Still,” the Devil insisted. “If you need something, anything, just ask. I can probably get it for you.”

“Do I even want to ask?” Henry said, which made Hynek laugh just as Zizka and Matthew reached them.

“You got the Devil. Great,” Zizka said and took as swig of his water bottle, before giving it to Matthew who seemingly had forgotten his again. “Warm up and then we can start.”

Training went smoothly after that except for a slight mishap, where Zizka was hit in the face with a football. The fifteen-year-old that had hit their captain looked about ready to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness, but Hynek just patted his shoulder while Olda and Bohuta helped Zizka up, who seemed relatively fine.

“Fate has been coming for that eye since he was four and running around with scissors and so far, he has survived everything.”

And the Devil was right. At lunchtime Zizka was already sitting with them again, holding an ice pack to his head and looking as good as new.

“Can I borrow your jacket again?” Henry asked when they got back to their room after lunch. He wanted to go to the belltower to call Theresa and tell her about his week, that no, he and Hans were not trying to kill each other again and maybe ask her if he could come over for Christmas. He had put it off for so long that it was already almost December and exam season had already started which was evident by the notes that covered even Hans’ corner window.

 “Calling your girlfriend again?” Hans teased but gave him his jacket. “One day you have to introduce me formally. I am sure she has heard all kinds of stories about me.”

“That you are annoying mostly,” Henry replied and tugged on the jacket, before Hans could think better of it. The teasing was all in good fun and Hans knew that, but Henry did not want to risk it. He really wanted to talk to Theresa today. Over the course of the morning, clouds had begun to roll in, which made him feel quite uneasy and he hoped that a chat with Theresa would be just the thing to get his mind off things again.

“You just don’t want me to steal her away,” Hans brushed him off. “With my good looks and my charming demeanour I can seduce anyone I want.”

Henry snorted amused. Theresa would wipe the floor with Hans if he tried his “I am a Lord”-number on her, which would be quite fun to see. “In your dreams, Capon.”

“Alright. Alright,” Hans chuckled, clearly not taking Henry’s comments to seriously, and reached for his notes. “I will be at Ranyek’s for the afternoon. Math is giving him problems. Probabilities is just not getting into his brain. Are you going to join us later?”

“Don’t think so,” Henry replied and zipped up Hans’ jacket, before wrapping himself in his scarf. “I have still some homework to do for English and then I need to revise for biology on Tuesday.”

“As if you have to revise for biology, Mister Herbalist over here.” Henry rolled his eyes at his roommate’s comment but still waved him goodbye before making his way to the belltower.

As he climbed the steps to the top of the tower where the wind was his only companion, Henry reached into the pockets to dig his phone out again, but his fingers found a cool piece of metal and before he knew it, Hans’ golden lighter lay in his hand.

Henry had seen Hans us it before, notedly to burn his notes in the woods after he had finished one of their more hated exams, but he had never held it himself. The zippo was quite heavy and had a coat of arms engraved in it, that was held up by vines which filled the blank space between the coat of arms on both sides of the lighter. The crest itself showed what was either crossed arrows or the siege ladders Godwin had showed them a couple of weeks ago in history class. It was old but looked freshly polished and quite expensive.

Henry let the metal disappear into the pocket of the jacket again and pulled his phone out, before he could drop or scratch Hans’ belongings, and he was about to dial Theresa’s number, when he thought better of it. He wanted to ask her if he could come over for Christmas, would it not be better if he knew he could even make it to her, before he gave her false hope?

The phone felt heavy in his hand as he went to his contacts. There were only two, Theresa and Radzig. His father had tried to call him a couple of times since the last time they spoke, but he had either not been able to reach Henry or he had declined the call. It had never been Henry that had tried to call him.

“There is a first time for everything,” Henry sighed and pressed call. It only rang one time before Radzig accepted the call like he had been waiting this whole time.

“Henry, I am so glad to hear from you. How are you doing? How is school?” Radzig sounded so genuinely concerned and at the same time ecstatic to hear from Henry that for a second he almost felt bad for not calling before. But it was not like Radzig had acknowledged him in the last fourteen years of his life.

“Exam season has started, but otherwise I am doing good,” he answered dryly. “I only really called to ask a question. It’s about the Christmas break.”

Henry could hear Radzig quietly gasp for air like he had hoped not to hear that.

“If you want to stay at school, I completely…”

“I want to visit Theresa,” Henry cut him off. He could not bear how defeated Radzig sounded. Like he had given up on the idea of Henry staying with him long before Henry even called but had still held out hope, that Henry had now so thoroughly crushed. “Over Christmas on to New Year’s. I just need you to get me to London and I will figure it out from there. I don’t need anything else from you.”

“She could visit us in London. It is wonderful during Christmas time.”

“She can’t.” Henry did not know that. “She has some events for school in-between years.” Henry did not know that either. “It is easier for her if I visit her there. She wants to show me around anyway. Like I did with her in the summer in London.” If you could call going shopping and sitting in the park showing around.

“Could I at least convince you to stay in London, if only for a night?” Radzig asked. “I assume you don’t want to travel from Suchdol all the way to Liverpool in one continuous trip.”

That would mean he would arrive in Liverpool right on Christmas Eve, but at least he would be refreshed. Radzig was not wrong about the trip being a bit too long to do in one go and Henry hated him a bit for that.

“I can do that,” Henry agreed reluctantly.

“Great.” His father sounded like he was beaming on the other end of the line. “I will take care of everything.”

“Thank you.” The words found their way out of his mouth before he could stop them. Henry added a hurried “goodbye”, hung up before his father could say anything in return, fell back against the window frame he was sitting in and let his eyes wander outside the castle walls.

The clouds had drawn thicker around the castle, hanging in the sky like big, billowing cotton balls, but not darker. It was almost like sitting in a cloud up here. A group of three students – that looked suspiciously like Janosh, Zika and the Devil – were wandering down the street as if they were going to meet someone at the bridge where the river ran beneath the road. Maybe Katherine with intel on Kuttenberg. Who knew?

Henry rubbed his eyes and went back to his phone. Theresa.

She let it ring a couple of times more – she had probably left it lying somewhere again – but when she picked up and her bright “What stories of the Devil have you brought me this time, Hal?” reached his ears, all dread about having spoken with Radzig and the clouds around him disappeared.

“He got himself into detention for causing a ruckus and me and Hans had to swindle a Priest to get him out,” he replied, not even trying to hide the smile in his voice.

“That sounds just like him,” Theresa said like she had known the Devil her whole life. “Really, one day you have to introduce me to all of your school friends. They all sound so terribly charming.”

“That is certainly one way of putting it,” Henry smiled, “How is it going? With school and such?”

“Good,” Theresa sighed. “Can’t complain. How did your exam on religion go?”

“Hans burnt his notes afterwards in the woods,” Henry replied without even batting an eye.

“Jesus. Or…well, not Jesus.”

He could not help but chuckle at that reply, before he cleared his throat and went back to what he really wanted to talk about. “I had a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Can I spend Christmas at your place?” he asked fast before he could choke on the words.

“Of course you can,” Theresa relied almost instantly, sounding overjoyed at the thought alone and lifted what felt like tons off Henry’s chest. “I was just thinking how the hell am I going to send your present to you? Do you even get the post man at your school?”

“I assume so.” Henry had sometimes seen letters and packages laying in front of some dorms but he himself had never received anything. “But it is really not a problem? Don’t you want to ask your uncle first?”

“If he has anything against it, then he can fight me on that. You are coming over for Christmas, that is not a point of debate. Speaking of my devil…” There were some sounds in the background like a door opening and keys jangling. “I think he is back from work. I have to talk to him about something. But I will hear from you. Next week at the latest, alright?”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Henry agreed with a smile on his lips. “Bye, Theresa. See you at Christmas.”

“Bye, Hal. I can’t wait.” And with that she hung up, her smile almost tangible.

With a much lighter step Henry went back to his room, threw Hans’ jacket over the back of his chair again and went to work on his essay, which he got done faster than expected and after finishing that Henry went on to revising.

He was just talking through what made a fungus a fungus when he heard the quiet taps of rain against his windows. It was just a light drizzle, nothing above a mist, he told himself and went back to work. Nothing to worry about.

Henry felt like a stone the waves had hollowed out.

Not all storms were equally bad. He could survive a light drizzle, the wind pushing them around on the pitch, the sound of a thunderclap in the distance. He would flinch, he would be irritated and the water would stand in every room he walked into but he would survive and if he was lucky, he could just sleep though them.

So far, Fortuna had been on his side. No surprising thunderstorms during a class, with winds threatening to break through the glass and drag him out into the storm or let the rain in to drown him where he sat in his chair.

None of that.

The sudden storms that came out of nowhere and disappeared just as fast…those ones left him disoriented like he had hit his head all over again, but as it turned out that were not the worst ones.

It was the slow ones. The ones that built up from a soft mist against the windows to a seemingly world ending tide that made it impossible to see that there would be light at the end of it all. The ones no one expected to turn bad.

Henry did not know for how long he had been reading the same line over and over and over again. He did not understand it. He had written it himself and he had read it a hundred times over at this point, but there was no understanding it. Not when the water was up to his chest and the wind was trying to break through the windows and drag him into the darkness of the lake where there was only coldness and the embrace of death.

Not even the blanket he had wrapped himself in could keep Henry warm. The paper in his hand was shacking but he kept reading. The words blurred together under the water, but the paper did not fall apart, because there was no water there, but Henry could still feel it lapping against his neck and so he sat there. Shivering but otherwise unmoving, reading but not understanding, drowning and dying but still breathing.

“Are fungi really that interesting?”

Hans’ voice was somehow muffled, like he was under water. No. Henry was underwater. HE was drowning and Hans could not even see the tides that filled Henry’s lungs. HE was dying while Hans was chatting away.

“You missed dinner, but I – as the wonderful roommate that I am – brought you some…Henry?”

The water was in his ears, in his lungs, in his veins. Washing the warmth right out of him until he was nothing but a shell. A hollowed-out, cold stone. Dead and unmoving.

“Henry? Did you fall asleep while sitting?”

The rain was hammering against the windows, trying to break in.  

“You’re scaring me, man. You good?”

There was a hand on his shoulder. Warm and alive and so careful and Henry wanted to brush it off. He felt like he would drain out all of the warmth, all of the life and like he was going to burst into flames at the same time, but he wanted the warmth, he wanted to feel alive.

Hans was saying something, but Henry did not hear him. The sound of rushing water had taken over everything again and he was a prisoner in his own mind.

The paper disappeared from his hands, but it had not disintegrated in the water. It now lay neatly stacked on his desk with the rest. The weight of the blanket that had done nothing to soothe him in any way was replaced by another, warmer, heavier one, and warm arms wrapped around his middle, taking one of his hands and placing it on his own chest that was rapidly moving up and down.

“Breathe with me. Can you do that, Henry?”

The words were so far away but still so close, like the had been spoken right into his ear. Henry could feel a slow heartbeat at his back a chest steadily falling and rising and tried to match it like Hans had asked. 

Slowly: In and out. In and out. In and out. In and out.

Henry could feel his own heart erratically hammering in his chest where his hand was over his heart. A dying rabbit in comparison to Hans’ heart that was steadily beating at his back. A firm wall between Henry and the storm as the water level began to drop, slowly but steadily. The pressure disappeared from his chest and he could breathe normally again, matching Hans.

In and out.

In and out.

In and out.

He could breathe. He was fine.

The coldness disappeared too, making way for the soothing warmth of another body as it radiated from Hans’ chest and his arms around Henry’s middle making Henry feel alive again.

When the rigid cold left his body completely, he fell back against Hans’ chest and into his embrace. He wanted to bury himself there, where it was warm and safe and the water could not reach him.

The tiredness hit Henry like a brick, his eyes falling shut almost immediately. Vaguely he could hear Hans saying something and brushing a strand of hair out of Henry’s face but he was out like a light before he could recognise what had been said.

Chapter Text

Hans was still there when Henry woke up.

At first Henry felt a bit disorientated. Why was he still wearing his cardigan and why was he wrapped so tightly in his blanket as if someone had tucked him in?

The next thing Henry noticed was the sound of rain still tapping against the window but it was gentle, not like it was trying to break the glass, and the rising anxiety over the rain almost subsided, when he realised that he was not alone. Someone was in bed with him.

Hans was lying beside him, not touching him anymore – which was a feat, considering how small the bed was – his back facing his own side of the room and the windows like he was shielding Henry and his hands lying between them on the bed like he had at some point in the night reached for Henry and then thought better of it. He was still in his uniform, only his tie lying on his bed like he had just vaguely thrown it in its direction. His shirt was crumpled and his hair that fell into his face seemed almost translucent in the golden light of Henry’s bedside lamp.

Henry caught himself reaching out to brush Hans’ hair out of his eyes, so he could see him better but withdrew back into his side of the bed, to not wake him.

Sakra.

How was he supposed to explain this away?

“I am just stressed about biology.” That is a bad lie. I am great at biology.

“My whole town was destroyed by floods.” I can’t tell him the truth; he will just pity me and I don’t want that.

Just as Henry was trying to come up with a more convincing explanation Hans stirred in his sleep and Henry closed his eyes again, pretending to be asleep. He could feel Hans shift on the mattress before he stood up and walked away. Seconds later Henry could hear the tap running and the humming of Hans’ electric toothbrush and Henry sunk back into the mattress. He had a bit more time before Hans would ask questions. First came his morning routine.

By the time Hans was done Henry had fallen asleep again.

“Henry.” Hans gently shook him. “Henry, if you don’t wake up now you are going to miss two meals in a row.”

As if on command Henry’s stomach growled and he opened his eyes. He indeed felt quite hungry.

“There we go.” Hans padded his shoulder and stood up straight again. “I knew I would get you with that.”

There was the usual teasing edge to his voice but something else beneath it. Like he was only pretending, reading from a script. Like he did not know how to approach Henry after what had happened.

“Very funny,” Henry replied and got up, his sight turning black for a second but finding his footing again in an instant, but Hans had already reached for him. Holding him up by his arm.

“Give me ten minutes, ok?” Henry freed his arm out of Hans’ grip, walked over to the bathroom and closed the door behind him, before Hans could ask any questions or even so much as let out a peep.

The bathroom was quiet. No sound of rain, no roommate, no questions to avoid, just quiet. 

Henry did not even dare to look in the mirror before taking a quick rinse, that turned him into a lobster and only wiped the fogged-up mirror clean after he had brushed his teeth.

The dark circles under his eyes were not helping the fact that he looked like death. Not only tired but deathly pale, his hair – still wet – clinging to his neck.

Henry turned away from the mirror and rubbed his hair dry before taking a step back into the real world and put on fresh clothes while Hans sat on his bed pretending to read, but his eyes were not moving. His roommate was staring at one point of the page so intently that Henry almost though he was trying to set it aflame just with his thoughts.

“I’m ready,” Henry announced and Hans finally looked up. He looked tired too, not as bad as Henry but still… like he had stayed awake all night worrying and Henry could feel a knife twisting in his chest.

He had made Hans worry when there was nothing to be concerned about, Henry was just being dramatic and Hans should never have seen him like that. For next time he needed to hide it better, since there was probably going to be a next time.

“Just in time,” Hans said and closed his book before standing up. “I was about to starve to death.”

They were fine. Everything was normal. They were just fine.

They were just about to reach the dining hall, when Hans broke the charged silence between them. “You don’t have to tell me anything. Not even the truth.”

The whole time Henry had tried to make the words come out but couldn’t.

Henry felt like he owed it to Hans. The blond had told him about the kidnapping and the basement and Henry could not even simply tell him that he was just terrified of storms. He did not need to name a reason, just the symptom had to be enough. Any sort of explanation, he felt like Hans at least deserved that, but the words just would not leave his mouth, they got all jumbled up on his tongue or got stuck in his throat or burned in his chest right under the skin where the silver cross lay against his skin.

“I want to,” he finally got out, just as they entered the dining hall.

“But I just can’t…” he lost the words again but Hans seemed to understand anyway. His fingers bushing against the inside of Henry’s forearm as they sat down with the others, backs facing the window, knees pressed together.

“You look like shit,” Hynek greeted them and Henry did not know if he wanted to cry or laugh.

“Did you fight again?” Janosh asked, his conversation with Adder and his pancakes forgotten.

“Are you still eating those?” Henry asked and pointed at the pancakes, which Janosh pushed towards him, while Adder got up, murmuring something about coffee and Olda offered Hans the rest of his omelette.

“A bird broke into our room during the storm,” Hans lied past his by now probably cold omelette. “Tried to get it out the whole night, but it kept panicking and flying away from the window. Kept us awake for a good while.”

It was almost concerning how fast Hans had come up with his lie and how casually he told it too. If Henry had not known for certain that Hans was lying out of his noble arse, he would have believed him.

“It is a good thing then that open training is cancelled for the day, with you two looking like that,” Zizka sighed just as Adder came back with two steaming mugs of coffee, for which Henry could kiss him.

Everybody watched them gobble down their food mildly concerned while the wind pressed the faint rain against the tall windows in waves, that slowly corroded Henry’s calm demeanor like a stone.

He just wanted to go back to their room and lock himself in the bathroom where the noise could not reach him. And that was exactly what he did once Hans and him got back to their room.

He spent the morning doing his assignments in the warm glow of the lamp over the sink, with his back leaned up against the space heater and ignoring every thunder that made its way through the slit between the door and the floor.

I am safe in here, Henry told himself, it can’t reach me here. I will see Theresa in a couple of weeks. We will go explore and have a great time. I am fine. I am not going to die. This is going to pass and Christmas will be great.

At around one o’clock there was a knock at the door. It could only be Hans but Henry still was hesitant to call him in. “Yes?”

Hans opened the door just wide enough for him to stand in the gap and shield Henry from whatever view might await him when he looked out the windows. “It is lunch time and you are not skipping another meal.”

There was still the faint trickle of rain against the windows but no thunder, no lighting sending bright flashes to illuminate the small space, that Hans did not dare to step foot in.

“I’m coming.”

Henry gathered all his stuff and threw it onto his bed before following Hans out of their room down the already bustling corridor on the way the ran into Ranyek and Olda, who was complaining about his assignments.

“I swear we did this exact same thing last year.” Olda argued as Henry and Hans pushed through the other students waiting to be let in. “Godwin is just recycling assignments.”

“Shouldn’t you know what to write then?” Hans asked. Their friends shot around, not having noticed them before.

“No, he wouldn’t. Because he failed that assignment last year too,” Ranyek replied, dodging Olda’s punch and slipping away just as the doors to the dining room opened.

“That little-” Olda bit his tongue to not curse as a group of younger boys walked past him before diving after Ranyek. “Wait till I catch you.”

“At least these two are in a good mood,” Hans sighed and pushed past some other boys to get trays for him and Henry.

“Yeah. I just hope they don’t kill each other,” Henry replied and only winced lightly when one of the boys dropped his metal tray that sounded an awful lot like the thunder rattling around in his brain.

“It’s the storm.”

Turns out Henry did not even have to tell Hans what was wrong with him. He figured it all out on his own.

Henry did not reply and just nodded, avoiding Hans’s gaze, that clung to him like he was a limping puppy, in the process. He half awaited his roommate to tease him. Only little children were afraid of thunderstorms and they were not little children anymore.

However, nothing came. They just walked up to Bozhena like always, got their lunch and sat back down at their table where Matthew and Bohuta were already sitting.

“Got that bird out of your room?” Bohuta asked.

“He was gone when we came back, that fucker.” Hans sat his tray down heavier than he had to and the dishes rattled. “Kept us awake all night just to disappear when we were not there. Classic.”

Henry did not say anything and just dug into his food. He was dying of hunger, the dinner that he had skipped yesterday and the half of the breakfast this morning were just not cutting it.

The rest joined them shortly after with Ranyek having survived Olda hunting him down even if his hair looked a bit all over the place.

“I checked the weather forecast this morning,” Zizka announced, “Looks like it this weather will be sticking with us for a bit longer. Till Wednesday at least.”

Henry swallowed his food that suddenly sat in his stomach like a brick. Please don’t send me out to train there. I will die and I can’t explain why I can’t go.

Hans knee brushed his under the table. Was it to reassure him that his friend was there or just by accident, Henry did not know, but it sent a jolt of warmth through him and he did not move away.

“So we will be not training since I don’t want any of you to get sick but we will be running rounds in the school every afternoon after classes end, so you at least don’t lose all we worked so hard for, but as soon as the weather clears up, we are back out there.”

Zizka might as well have announced that he had the school cancel all their exams. Relief washed over Henry and the water around his feet drew back. He was fine. He was not going to drown. He was fine.

“Give me a second.” By the time they returned to their room the wind had picked up and was howling so loud around their tower that you could not even hear the bells.

While Hans was digging though his closet, Henry was already eyeing the bathroom door. He had done all his assignments, he could get his book and read a bit more before dinner, get a blanket and cosy up in the bathtub.

“Haha!” Hans exclaimed triumphant and held something into the air, before getting up and making his way back to Henry to present him with…headphones?

“Noise cancelling,” Hans explained. “They help me when you snore.”

“I don’t snore,” Henry replied defensively, mostly out of instinct. He had no idea if he snored.

“No, you don’t,” his roommate admitted, but still put the headphones onto his head and everything turned quiet. It was like a switch had been flipped. Everything was just…quiet. No rain, no wind, no distant thunder. Quiet.

Hans was beaming at him like he had ambitions to replace the sun, with his golden hair he looked the part too and Henry…he could not put into words how thankful he really was. As long as he did not look at the windows, he could stay in his bed now or even at his desk. He did not have to sit on the hard tiles in the bathroom for the next coming days.

“How did you know what to do?” Henry asked and took off the headphones, which had once been white but were now covered in black and golden stars.

“Well, you seemed to be reacting to the noise most of the time, so-” Hans began but Henry shook his head.

“Not that. Well…that too, but I meant yesterday, when I…” Was having a panic attack over the bloody weather. “When you…” hugged me and calmed me down, as if you had been doing this for years.

“I had those too,” Hans admitted and then corrected himself. “Have those too, not as often anymore. But when I was a child, it was bad, thought every stranger was going to kidnap me and lock me into a room where no-one would find me this time around.” 

The worst thing about it all was Hans’ smile while he told Henry this, like he was just telling him how he cut his hair once when he was a child and looked stupid. Like it was a funny story and not big deal. Like everybody had a fear of getting kidnapped and locked away forever.

“My uncle showed me some breathing techniques, that helped,” Hans went on further, “I usually need an anchor point that tells me that I am not locked in a dungeon. I usually look at the nature around me, but I don’t think that would help in your case.”

“Is that why you take the nature pictures?” Henry asked and Hans eyes widened a bit in surprise. “To calm down?”

“Yes,” Hans answered a bit starstruck. “I do.”

Henry remembered that day in the forest Hans had seemed so calm until Henry arrived. Like he felt at home there. Safe. And Henry had ruined it.

There were so many other questions still running wild in Henry’s mind.

Was it really your birthday?

What happened to your parents?

But it had been too many secrets in one day for his taste.

“There is not a lot of it in the city and I can’t stand the parks anyway. Everything is so perfect, yet they try to tame nature. Not like here.” Hans made a vague gesture in the direction of the forest, but drew his hand back, remembering the rain. “Here, everything is wild. Did you see those pink sailors? That wouldn’t happen in any of those parks.”

“So, you do like my flowers?” Henry asked, poking Hans’ chest with his finger accusingly.

“I listen to you ramble on about them all the time,” Hans replied defensibly. “I just don’t believe in your little herbalism stuff.”

“Say that again, when you are lying on the ground poisoned, because you ate some berries you thought looked ok.” They were teasing. Because that was what they did. This was normal. They were fine.

“Well, I would not be the one tasting them,” Hans defended himself and crossed his arms in front of his chest like he had just “um actually”-ed Henry, but his smile was as poorly hidden as Zizka’s red hat in the forests. “I have people for that. I am a Lord after all.”

“Sounds like you need a bodyguard,” Henry joked and held back a chuckle. Hans probably had bodyguards. His uncle probably employed a whole army to keep him safe and Hans still managed to get away to party though the night in clubs he was definitely not supposed to be at.

“Why?” Hans tilted his head to the side, smiling, his eyes gleaming. “Are you offering?”

“You would make me go insane,” Henry replied. Following Hans around all day and not because they had all the same classes sounded like a nightmare. He would probably have Henry carrying his bags when he went shopping.

Hans snorted but tried to keep a straight face as he replied: “Maybe, but maybe I need a brave and loyal knight to save me.”

At the last part he winked at him and they held their serious face for about three seconds, before they both cracked and started laughing so hard, that Henry forgot that the wind was still howling and the rain was still there.

The afternoon went on just fine. With the headphones Henry could sit in his bed reading, all bundled up in his blanket and the cardigan Janosh had knitted for him and no water appeared at his feet.

It was truly a miracle.

Or maybe it was just Hans’ knee brushing his when he shifted his weight. His roommate was sitting on his bed next to him, bent over a notepad talking about something that Henry could not hear and noting down some things, while Henry read and was just glad that he was not alone.

It was already dark outside when Hans head suddenly shot up, like he was hearing something and then signalled Henry to take the headphones of.

“It is time for dinner,” Hans explained. “Do you want me to get you something or…”

“No.” The rain had stayed at a constant, but slow drizzle, almost like white noise. “I think I can survive dinner, just…”

Henry bit his tongue and Hans tiled his head in curiosity. “Just what?”

Despite feeling embarrassed about he was going to say next, Henry took a deep breath and got the words out. “Could you sleep in my bed again? Tonight? I just…I feel…”

“It is alright,” Hans assured him, padded his shoulder and gave him a smile, when the words still would not come out. “How could I refuse going to bed with such a handsome fellow like you?”

Henry boxed him in the shoulder and Hans just laughed, which was a relief. “Come on. Time for dinner.”

Chapter Text

Monday was… an experience and Hans stayed by his side for almost all of it.

The castle was damp – more so than usual – coldness seemingly always sticking to Henry no matter how many layers he wore, rain hammering against the windows with such force that Henry really believed that the water already reaching up his ankles in biology, where they had a last round of revision before the test tomorrow, was real, that the old windows had let it in and that the school was going to be shut down for water damages. He did not even want to look at the moat or how full it probably was.

However, there was a certain – previously annoying – blond that was always sitting between Henry and the windows, changing up the usual sitting arrangements, confusing Olda and Ranyek, but they did not say anything, at least not to their faces. However Henry could just feel them looking between Hans and him, but they did not comment on them either, not until the Devil pointed it out at lunch.

“Since when are you two attached at the hip?” the Devil asked past his sandwich.

“You guys wanted us to become friends,” Hans replied, not even looking up from his pasta. “So don’t complain that we are now.”

“Guess we are just not used to you two not being at each other’s throats,” Kubyenka chimed in, which got him an elbow in the ribs from Janosh.

“What they mean is that it is nice to see you two getting along,” Janosh tried to word it a bit nicer.

Henry did not care what the others said, he was not in the mood for talking anyway. Water was pooling at his ankles as the rain hammered against the windows.

He just needed to make it through a couple more lessons and training and then he could go and hide in his room and seek out the blessed silence of Hans’ headphones.

“Damn. This weather is really pissing me off,” Olda sighed and watched as the rain kept coming at them, while Henry desperately tried not to think about it. The water was still up to his ankles and it had been since he had gotten out of the bathroom this morning.

“It is ruining our training schedule.”

“You and your football,” Hans sighed. “Is Kuttenberg that good or are they just thugs again?”

“The Kuttenberg are everything but thugs,” Zizka chimed in from the other end of the table. “They are quite good actually and play fair.”

“At least on the pitch,” Olda commented and crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking offended.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hans asked and kept piling more meat onto his sandwich, that he could not possibly try to shove in his mouth all at once.

“John the second of Lichtenstein…” Olda began and Hynek dropped his head onto the table and groaned in frustration.

“We do not need to hear about your so-called nemesis again,” the Devil sighed, which seemed to further spur on Olda who seemed…even more passionate than usual.

“He is not my nemesis,” his friend claimed and turned his nose up at the mere suggestion. “That would imply that he is at the same level as me.”

“Well, he did become captain of his team when he was sixteen,” Kubyenka provided, which got him a glare from both Hynek and Olda, for different reasons.

“Don’t spur him on,” the Devil said at the same time as Olda’s “That is only because his family sponsored the school” reached Henry’s ears, who did not particularly care for the ins and outs of the politics of the private-boy-school-football-league, but it was a good distraction.

“Lichtenstein is a menace,” Olda added. “He seems to know every play before we make it. I think somebody in our school is spying for him.”

“Like Katherine does for us?” Hans asked, which got him another murderous glare from Olda. He dropped the other half of his bread, which he was currently smothering in mustard, like Olda had just threatened him with a gun, earning him a chuckle out of the other boys, before going back to work on his sandwich.

“That is different,” Olda insisted. “He…I don’t know how he does it. It is almost like he can hear us talking in the changing room before the game and trust me, we have turned that changing room over three times and checked the vents too. He is not in the walls either and still…”

“Yes, he knows our play somehow, but we are not the most creative bunch out there,” Ranyek countered,. “And we have beaten him in the tournaments every time so far, so calm down.”

Olda shot his roommate a look that Henry could almost hear.

We will talk about this later.

But Ranyek seemed undeterred, by the vague threat that his roommate had not even voiced.

“Anyway.”

Olda turned back to Hans, who had completed his ridiculous ninety-percent-meat sandwich and was currently stuffing one wrapped in napkins into his pocket for some reason, and only winked at Henry when he noticed him starring. Whatever that meant.

“Lichtenstein is the reason you will stay put during the practice game.”

“What do you mean, stay put?” Hans asked, looking as confused as Henry felt. Hans’ whole point was that he was fast and fucking annoying when he wanted to be.

“He means play as a normal midfielder,” Zizka explained.

“We don’t want him to know about you yet so he can’t prepare,” Olda added. “No running around all the time or branching out to confuse the defence. Stay back a bit more.”

“But…” Hans wanted to argue, but Hynek just shook his head and patted him on the shoulder.

“It is better for everyone’s sanity if you just do what he says. And hey, think about it this way, if you stop running around like a damn hare, you will have far more energy left to explore the city after the training and games are done.”

“We get to go into the city?” Hans asked, which made even Henry perk up, who was still trying to figure out what the hell Hans wanted to do with that sandwich.

“You bet we do.” Ranyek leaned over the table and beamed excitedly. “Godwin takes us for dinner when we win, and as long as we are back before midnight on the other days, we don’t get in trouble if we go out on our own either. Great, right?”

“That sounds grand,” Hans agreed and gave Ranyek a high-five. “We get to interact with other specimens of the human race for once. I can’t remember the last time I saw a girl that wasn’t Katherine.”

Henry rolled his eyes at Hans’ comment – of course, he just wanted to meet girls – but maybe Henry could go buy something for Theresa when he was there, while the other guys went off to do whatever.

The clocktower made itself known over the rain and the boys started to collect their stuff, before going back to class, Olda hurrying them along past a couple of the younger boys that were standing by a window in the corridor.

“Can you see him?” one of the boys asked his friend, who basically had his face pressed against the glass.

“I cannot even see the moat in this weather,” the other replied, just as Olda urged Henry to walk faster.

“We are going to be late. Come on, guys.”

What were they talking about? What or who could be out there that…

MUTT.

Henry stopped in the middle of the corridor with Ranyek almost walking into him.

“You good?” Ranyek asked just as Hans noticed that Henry had stopped.

“Yeah,” Henry replied, even though he was not.

Mutt was still out there in this weather, probably drenched by now and cold and…

No.

Henry shook his head and started walking again. He needed to keep it together. Just two more hours and the running and then he would be done and could drown again or – preferably – sit in his room wrapped in a blanked and study, while Hans was writing his ununitable notes next to him.

Mutt was going to be fine, Henry told himself as he tried to pay attention in class, but ended up just doodling in the margins. The animals had known before them to get away. Mutt was going to be no different. He was a smart dog and always picked up the tricks Henry taught him, even if it needed copious amounts of snacks to get him there.

“Art class is tomorrow,” Hans whispered into Henry’s ear, who was practically laying on the table as he was “taking notes”.

“I need to practice,” Henry replied just as quietly as Professor Ignatius kept on talking about how inflation was calculated and could feel Hans holding back a chuckle beside him, which made Henry feel a bit lighter. At least he could make someone laugh, even if it wasn’t Theresa.

By the end of the class his notepad was covered in marigolds and blue sailors and he was about to throw it away, when Hans snatched the already crumpled up paper from him, flattening it onto the next table and trying to get the creases out.

“Why did you do that?” Hans asked. “It looked nice.”

“It’s just studies,” Henry replied with a shrug as he watched Hans carefully fold the paper. “And not good ones.”

“Well, if you don’t like it, I will keep it,” Hans replied and put the folded-up paper into his bag, before grabbing Henry by the arm and dragging him to the next class, the last for the day and also Hans’ favourite: History.

While Godwin went on and on about…something, Henry tried not to think about Mutt and started writing a cheat sheet for biology just from memory, which turned out to be a success. The rain fell into a soft “tap, tap” against the windows, a stark difference from the earlier assault and before he knew it, class was already over.

“If you don’t pass bio tomorrow then I will eat a broomstick,” Olda proclaimed as he read through the cheat sheet on their way up to their rooms.

“Did you devour the textbook?” Ranyek asked and snatched the paper from his roommate.

Henry just shrugged. “I just think it’s interesting.”

“You think everything about plants is interesting,” Hans argued and stretched his arms over his head, letting out a yawn like he had not slept all night, which Henry knew wasn’t true, because he had woken up to a sleeping Hans in his bed just a hand width away from him, but not touching at all. “I could use a nap.”

“You can do that after we do the run,” Olda replied. They had reached the floor which housed his and Ranyek’s room. “We meet in 10 minutes.”

“Yeah…no.” Hans yawned again. “I am not running around the school. I am taking a nap.”

“I will talk to him,” Henry assured an Olda that seemed ready to give Hans a lecture, but Ranyek just pushed him in the direction of their room.

“You said it yourself. We meet in less than ten minutes, so get dressed.” The dark-haired boy nodded at Henry, who did the same and followed Hans up to their room.

He and Ranyek really needed a raise for dealing with their respective roommates, Henry thought, but then all the times Olda had – allegedly – held Ranyek back from doing something stupid while drunk and Hans helping him all day came to mind, so maybe they were not owed compensation after all.

“So, you are really not coming?” Henry asked and looked over at Hans who was sitting on his bed, leaning over his biology notes.

“Not all of us know their stuff by heart and I can’t have you beat me, can I?” Hans replied. He was still wearing his blazer that had the sandwich in its pocket, which Henry hoped he would not forget in there. That would be a waste of a perfectly good, slightly crushed sandwich.

“If you say so.” Hans had never missed a training. Not in all the time Henry knew him, but maybe he just needed some space for once, after Henry practically trailing after him for the last two days like a lost puppy or maybe it was just that he really wanted to beat Henry in biology, which was not going to happen. “See you later, yeah?”

“Bye, Henry,” Hans murmured past the pen cap he was holding between his teeth while scribbling something onto his notes.

“He is really not coming?” Olda asked, sounding rather disappointed than murderous, which was a relief. They were running single file behind Zizka through the now mostly empty corridors, since almost everyone had gone back to their rooms to study or nap before dinner.

“I don’t see him anywhere here, do you?” Henry replied. “Because if so, you need to get your eyes checked.”

“Glad to have you back,” Ranyek smiled and padded Olda’s shoulder, who stuck out his tongue at Henry. “You have been quiet all day.”

“I did not sleep well,” Henry deflected in a hopefully unsuspicious? tone. He had slept…not great but not bad either. With Hans as a wall between him and the rest of the world and the headphones he had at least managed to not drown in his bed.

“Yes. Hans keeps saying that,” Olda sighed. “If there is something going on between you two, just tell me so I don’t open any doors before checking first.”

“What are you getting at?” Henry asked rather confused.

open any…

Why would Olda…

“Told you so.” Ranyek started walking backwards and extended a hand to Olda, who was running behind Henry. “Pay up.”

“I don’t have money on me right now. What do you think? That I just walk around with cash? Stairs.” The last one came as a warning, just as Ranyek was about to fall down the stairs. Thankfully, he managed not to cause a domino effect that would have taken out half the team.

After four rounds through the school and some stretching, they all split up again to go to their rooms and shower, before dinner.

Maybe if I hurry up, I can go through my notes one more time, Henry thought as he ran up the stairs and opened the door to their room only to find Hans completely drenched. For a second Henry thought he was just imagining Hans looking like he went for a swim with his clothes on, which would be a death sentence in this weather, but when Hans rubbed his golden hair dry with a towel, he knew this was real.

“What the fuck did you do?”

“Hello to you too, Henry,” Hans replied like he was not currently dripping onto the floor. “Care to close the door?”

Henry closed the door and turned back to his roommate, who had started to struggle out of his sweater, which was not only wet but soaked, just like the shirt beneath it, but before Hans could fully get out of the first item of clothing, Henry turned away. He was not going to look at Hans changing. That would be weird.

His gaze landed on the bathroom door instead, which was closed, which was strange because Henry had not closed it when he left. There was a wet trail too, leading from the door to the bathroom like someone had cleaned the floor with a wet towel or something and then Henry heard a noise from inside the bathroom.

“What is in the bathroom?” When Henry turned back to his roommate, Hans had put on dry clothes, a thick, red hoody and sweatpants.

“A meth lab,” Hans replied in full seriousness.

“You are not smart enough to cook meth,” Henry said and dodged the wet clothes Hans threw at him.

“We will see how that chemistry test turned out.”

Henry just ignored him and went for the bathroom door, opening it just in time, before Hans could hold him back. What was he hiding in the bath-

“Mutt!” The dog was sitting in the bathtub, happily wagging his tail and wrapped in towels, while more damp towels hung from the curtain rail.

Hans covered Henry’s mouth with a hand. “Keep quiet, will you? I don’t want to get caught.”

Henry just pushed him away and ran to the dog that greeted him with a lick across the face and the most adorable face, almost looking like a seal with his ears tugged under his towel.

“I tried to wash…it, but it wouldn’t comply,” Hans explained, staying back at the door and not making a step towards Henry and the dog. “Covered me and the whole room in water.”

“So that is what the sandwich was for then?” Henry asked and rubbed Mutt’s head with the towel, which the dog seemed to enjoy. “To smuggle the best boy ever into the house.”

And out of the rain, but Henry did not say that.

“I thought he would cheer you up,” Hans admitted and Henry was considering if a kiss would be too much to say thank you.

“He was out there in the rain all day,” Hans added purposefully looking at the ceiling, so he did not have to look at Henry and could pretend that he did not care at all. “And you would have been all mopey if he got sick and I don’t want to deal with that, now do I?”

“I could hug you right now,” Henry admitted, much to his own surprise. He had only hugged Theresa since his parents died. No one else and Hans… he hated his guts not a couple of weeks ago.

“It is not that much of a-” Hans stared but Henry had already gotten up and hugged his annoying roommate. Hans smelled faintly like his expensive perfume, but under the layer of that and wet dog, Henry could smell his lavender soap.

“Thanks.”

Hans hands were a bit clammy against Henry’s back where he held onto his still slightly sweaty gym-shirt. Right. He was still wearing that. He needed to shower and change and then get ready for dinner, but Henry held on just a bit longer, before letting Hans go. “I have to shower.”

“Yeah, you do,” Hans agreed and cleared his throat, his smile only wavering for a second, before he waved at Mutt, who jumped out of the bathtub and shook all his towels off before following Hans. “Come on, Mutt. I still have some of my sandwich left.”

When Henry got out of the bathroom, he joined Hans and Mutt, who were sitting on Hans’ bed, for the dog to rest his head in Henry’s lap and read a bit more, before they went to steal a bunch of chicken from the dinner table and went back up to their room again to feed Mutt.

The whole excitement of it had Henry so distracted that he did not notice the thunder that rolled in halfway through the night, while Mutt slept peacefully between him and Hans. The three of them just barely fitting into the bed, now with Henry’s knee brushing against Hans’ leg.

Chapter Text

“We are finally free!” Ranyek exclaimed with joy as the boys walked out of their last class on the nineteenth of December.

“Don’t forget our exams in January,” Hans reminded him, fixing the strap of his messenger bag, but Ranyek and Olda just waved him off.

“I am not going to care about that anymore this year.” Olda just shook his head at his roommate’s comment but had his own remark to make, beaming with excitement already.

“Who cares about exams?”

“I do,” Hans and Henry replied in unison but were brushed off too.

“Rhetorical question, guys. I thought you were supposed to be smart. We are going to Kuttenberg tomorrow, you idiots. That is way more important.”

Hans shot Henry a glance that said “I could argue with that” but Olda seemed so genuine that they did not bother. They had gotten good at that. Talking without speaking, even if it was mostly to judge the living hell out of their friends.

“Everything packed already I assume?” Henry asked and nodded in the direction of the dorms to get his friends to move out of the way. The hallways were busy, with students running about, wanting to get a last bit of advice for the exams in a couple of weeks before the holidays began in two days.

The corridors had been covered in evergreen branches, that the students had gone to gather one afternoon in the beginning of December, when their breaths were already stark white against the midday sun, only to warm up with a hot chocolate from Bozhena while they cut the branches into suitable decorations and made ornaments from straw that Henry could still find on the floor of the dining room two weeks later.

Mutt had started sleeping in the dining room, between the fireplace and the captain’s chair, who had grown quite fond of the pup, just like the rest of the student faculty body, with Godwin throwing the dog his scraps every so often. But Henry was still Mutt’s favourite, always sitting with him and the team, who he joined for training sometimes. Chasing them across the field when they did not want to run and wearing the yellow and black shawl Janosh had made for the dog.

“Our mascot needs a uniform, don’t you think?” the dark-haired boy had said as he wrapped the Mutt, who was way too busy licking his face, in his new attire.

“Everything packed and ready to go,” Olda agreed and brought Henry back into the present.

“Does he have the clothes for tomorrow laid out already?” Henry asked as they went up the stairs to their rooms.

“You bet he has,” Ranyek sighed. “He keeps talking about strategies in his sleep too.”

“Now you are exaggerating,” Olda defended himself. “And how would you know that anyway? You can’t even hear yourself think over your own snoring.”

“Girls, don’t fight,” Hans said and Henry swallowed a laugh at Olda’s and Ranyek’s scandalised faces. “You will get a break from each other very soon, so relax. The good times are almost here.”

“You are just excited to meet girls.” Olda crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You don’t care about the game.”

“I do. I do, my friend,” Hans insisted. “That is why I need to get to my room and pack so everything goes smoothly tomorrow, no?”

They were supposed to be away for three days. They would leave on the twentieth, come back on the twenty-second and would then leave with all the other boys on the twenty-third – if they did not have to leave early that was – but with how the others on the team spoke of the Kuttenberg boys that was probably not going to be the case.

After a quick goodbye the boys split ways and Hans and Henry climbed the last set of stairs to get to their room, where Hans dragged out his suitcase from under his bed and began to pack.

They would all travel pretty lightly for their trip to Kuttenberg, since they were going to spend most of their time in their jerseys again, training and maybe actually making friends this time, so Henry’s lack of proper everyday clothes would not be too apparent. Looking back now Henry had no idea how he survived all summer with such little clothing but then he remembered that the only times he left his bed was to go for morning runs, the bathroom and food and it became clear again.

In the sports bag, with the school logo on it, he had his football kit, his sport shoes and a fresh shirt. Hans was going to lend him his leather jacket again and with that and the thermal the school provided for them, for training in winter, he was good to go.

In the backpack that he had come here with were his other, normal shirts and trousers. He was kind of banking on Janosh finishing his sweater before they had to leave so he would have another thing to wear under his cardigan on the train ride.

“Do you know where you are going for Christmas yet?” Henry asked and plopped down on his bed. Good thing about not owning a lot of stuff, you were fast at packing it all.

“London for the holidays and France for New Year’s,” Hans explained, holding up two shirts that looked pretty much the same to Henry. “You are going to London too, right?”

“Yeah,” Henry sighed and wanted to sink into his pillows. The dinner with Radzig was coming closer and he still did not know how to feel about it. Biologically speaking, Radzig was his father, but he had never done anything for Henry, had he? If he had, Henry could not remember. He just kept him from ending up in the foster care system where he would be stranded for a year before getting out since he was already seventeen by the time everything had happened and no one wanted to adopt a seventeen-year-old.

“You reckon we will be on the same train then?” Hans asked and turned to Henry holding two blue button downs, one a bright sapphire, the other a pale blue. “Which one?”

“Light,” Henry sighed and sat up. “Probably.”

A couple of months ago he would have thought spending fifteen hours with Hans would be torture, but maybe it was not too bad being alone for all that time.

“Nice.” Hans reached for his phone, a snippet of the drawing Henry had wanted to throw away – marigolds and blue sailors – in the back of his phone case. Hans had told him that it would be a waste throwing it away and Henry tried not to think too hard about it. “Then I will have some company at least.”

“Is your uncle not sending someone to travel with you?” Henry asked. “A bodyguard to keep you safe, or something?”

“Oh, he is. It’s just- they don’t talk. At all,” Hans sighed, turned his phone off again and threw it onto his bed. “Dinner time. Let’s go before the bells shoo us down again.”

On the way down they ran into Janosh and Adder, who were back to being mostly normal. Henry still did not know what had been up with them that couple of weeks after the autumn holidays, but as long as everything was back to normal now, he was not going to pry.

“Exited for tomorrow?” Janosh asked as they got in line to get their food.

“I am excited to be back in civilisation,” Hans replied and got himself a piece of bread, before accepting a bowl of soup from Bozhena, which was almost overflowing. “You might get to look on my beautiful face every day, but I could deal with some new people.”

“Are we not handsome enough for you, Lord Capon?” Adder asked, playing the offended whose feelings Hans had just hurt, but his smile was poorly hidden as he accepted his soup as the last of the group before they turned back to their table.

“No,” Hans admitted after a thinking it over again, “just not my type.”

“And what would that be?” Janosh teased “Blond hair and blue eyes like yourself? Anything below a countess is surely beneath your standards.”

Henry was fully focused on not spilling his soup, but that did not mean that he could not lay in on teasing his friend. “Standards? Hans doesn’t have standards. Look at him. He is so bad at flirting he has to be satisfied with what he gets.”

Henry actually thought that Hans was quite nice to look at, but what was a bit of teasing?

“You are just saying that, because you have not seen me flirt before,” Hans was fast to deflect the allegations. “The ladies love me.”

“And how many of those stick around for the second date?” Janosh asked, one eyebrow raised sceptically.

“Who needs a second date, when I know that they are not what I am looking for?” Hans replied, which was honestly fair. Why drag someone along when you knew this was not going to work out? That was just unnecessary.

“And how would you know that if you only go onto one date?” Janosh countered. “Look at you and Henry. You hated each other and now you are almost attached at the hip. Relationships take time to form.”

“We are not attached at the hip,” Hans and Henry defended themselves in unison and shot the other a warning look before their gaze snapped back to Janosh and Adder. “We are not.”

“If you say so,” Adder shrugged and whispered something to Janosh in Polish that had the other hold back laughter.

The dinner was a short one, since Zizka wanted them rested and ready tomorrow morning for their trip to Kuttenberg.

“I want all of you at the gate by eight, alright?”

“Yes, Captain,” the boys replied, some – the Devil, Kubyenka and Matthew – mockingly echoing Zizka’s serious tone, at which Zizka only sighed and rubbed his eyes, mumbling a “I am too old for this”, before sending them off.

“Did you check the weather forecast?” Hans asked as he was still debating on what clothes to take with him to Kuttenberg after they got back to their room.

“It is supposed to snow,” Henry murmured past his toothbrush and went on brushing his teeth, trying not to think about what that could mean for him. He had not experienced snow since before… He had no idea how he was going to react, but it was probably not going to be an issue. Snow wasn’t loud and drowning in it seemed rather impossible, when he would mostly be running around an indoor pitch for the next two days. He would be fine. At least he hoped so. Back in England the roofs were already white, if the picture Theresa had sent him was anything to go by.

“Do you think you are going to be ok?” Hans had stopped rifling through his closet and Henry could just feel his roommate looking at him – worried – like he was a bird with a broken wing Hans had dragged in from the storm, but Henry did not need his pity.

Henry gave himself time to finish brushing his teeth and washed his face, before setting foot back into their room, Hans eyes not leaving him once during all of it.

“I will be fine,” Henry assured him. Every carefully spoken word a promise to himself. He had already put too much on Hans with slipping up in front of him, he did not need the rest of his friends to worry about him too. He needed to get himself in check and be able to deal with the storms on his own. The last thing he wanted to do was make Hans feel like Henry needed him to stay stable. “There is no rain after all.”

Hans just nodded, even when Henry knew he did not believe him one bit and turned back to his closet, quietly going over it again.

Even weeks after the storm Henry had still not mustered up the courage to tell Hans why he reacted to storms the way he did. One word would probably be enough for Hans to figure it out.

Skalitz.

It had been in the British media for a bit and then again when Henry got discharged. If Hans had been in England at that time, he would know, but Henry wasn’t sure if he wanted him to know. He felt like he owed it to Hans in some way, but then it was his business and he would not bother others with it. But… would sharing it help or only drag Hans down with him too?

“Well, I will be packing my headphones just in case I want to sleep on the bus, so if you need them just tell me. I don’t mind you using them.” Seemingly finally satisfied with the contents of his backpack for tomorrow, Hans closed the zipper with a sigh, only to re-open it five seconds later.

“Remember that Zizka told us to go to bed early,” Henry reminded his roommate and turned the lamp on his nightstand off, before wrapping himself in his blanket.

“I bet you he is still packing too. He just pretends to be well organised. He is just human too and I heard…”

“Good night, Hans,” Henry cut his roommate off and turned towards the wall. Just a couple more days and then he was going to see Theresa again.

“Good night, Henry.”

The morning wind cut into Henry’s cheeks as the boys waited for Katherine’s uncle to show up with the bus.

“God, it is cold out here,” Hans voiced what they were all thinking, never stopping his pacing around Henry, Ranyek and Olda, slowly driving Henry mad. The blond was just going round and round and round with no end in sight.

The yellow scarf Janosh had knitted him was wrapped around his neck and so thick that it reached Hans’ nose, which was red from the cold wind. His hands were buried in the pockets of his long coat, flapping behind him like an angry bat.

“Can you stop? For two seconds?” Olda asked who seemed to be just as done with Hans’ constant walking round and round and round, making seemingly smaller circles each time like a shepherd dog trying to round up sheep.

Henry could see Hans already starting another complaint, and just wrapped his arms around him from behind, so that the blond could neither move his arms nor keep going in general. Yes, Hans was taller than him by a bit, but Henry was stronger.

“So,” Henry sighed. “No walking in circles anymore. You will just slip on a piece of ice and fall if you keep doing that.”

“Or I will push him,” Ranyek offered, who looked like he had woken up two seconds ago. “That is always an option.”

“Let go of me, Henry,” Hans demanded but Henry did not budge, even as Hans tried to wiggle his way out of his grip like a worm.

“Nope,” Henry replied simply. At the beginning it had just been to keep Hans from rounding them like they were sheep, but now – against his constant complains about the cold – he was quite warm, and he was not the only one freezing.

“You are insufferable,” Hans complained and decided that it was a good idea to lean all his weight against Henry, who almost fell over at the sudden shift, but managed to keep his balance and now hook his chin over Hans’ shoulder.

“And you like it, so shut it.”

“At least you are warm,” Hans sighed and turned his gaze from Henry to Ranyek, while Olda had gone off to talk with Zizka already done with their bullshit. “What is up with you this morning? You look like not even Adder’s espresso could wake you up.”

As it turned out Adder had an espresso machine in his and Janosh’s dorm, which was impressive if you asked Henry.

“I was too excited to sleep,” Ranyek yawned and shook his head as if that could get rid of the tiredness, which it obviously did not. The brown-haired boy still looked like a groundhog.

Hans tried to elbow Henry in the side with moderate success.

“What?” Henry lifted his head from Hans’ shoulder. His roommate still smelled like lavender soap and thankfully none of the expensive perfume.

“Either you let go of me or you turn me in Zizka’s direction.”

“If that is your wish, my liege.” Not ready to let the bit die just yet, Henry took a step to the side, turning Hans around in the process, who preceded to yell in Zizka’s direction.

“Zizka! Get your girlfriend on the phone and tell her to kick her uncle’s arse so he gets here before Ranyek falls asleep standing up!”

For a second you could have heard a pin drop and then the boys all turned to Zizka, who was frozen in place, ears slowly turning red of embarrassment or fury, Henry could not tell, but you bet he let go of Hans like he was a hot potato. He was not going to get caught in the captain’s crossfire, oh no.

“She is not my girlfriend, you fucker,” Zizka replied which broke the tension in the air and made everybody hold back a laugh except for Hans, who managed to smile while Zizka shot daggers at him.

“Oh, is she not?” Kubyenka chimed in on teasing Zizka, putting an arm around his shoulder, which he immediately retracted upon Zizka turning his pricing blue eyes on him.

“The bus is coming.” Godwin’s announcement saved the school from a murder investigation but also all of the boys from getting frozen to the ground as they all got in line to get on the bus and found their seats without any incidents.

“What did you summon the wrath of the captain for?” Henry whispered to Hans just as Godwin closed the doors and just low enough that Katherine, sitting next to Zizka a couple rows behind them, looking really good in her blue turtleneck, could not hear him.

“To remind him that he needs to get his shit together,” Hans replied and leaned back with a sigh. “I have a bet going with the Devil that Zizka will ask her on a date while we are in Kuttenberg since she is staying there with a friend while we are there, and I am not losing.”

“You are making deals with the Devil?” Henry asked, playing the shocked Puritan, but Hans just punched him in the shoulder which did nothing to wipe the smile off Henry’s face.

“Quit grinning and help me. If I win, we can share the booze he promised me.”

“Why did you not start with that?”

“Unbelievable,” Hans sighed, his head falling back onto Henry’s shoulder as he rolled his eyes that glistened like dark sapphires in the slowly emerging morning sun.

Chapter Text

There was a tall tower looming over the bustling market stalls. Its dark spire was so high up that birds circled it, which the tourists took note of.

“Is that a falcon?” a woman, with a big sun hat that seemed utterly misplaced on the cold, winter day, asked and pointed up at the birds – none of which were falcons – as they drove past.

Henry was rather interested in the clock halfway up the tower, with its green clockface and the golden sun as a dial. It was 11:50. Almost lunchtime.

“When will we be there?” Hynek asked for approximately the ten thousandth time, getting hit with Katherine’s magazine over the head for it. “Ow.”

“Quit asking. You know how far it is.” Katherine unrolled her paper, went back to reading and Henry could not help but be impressed. Katherine seemed to be fearless when it came to the Devil, not buying into any of his shenanigans and would rather “spy in Rome than be anywhere near him” which she could not have meant too seriously, since she was just sitting a row behind him next to Zizka, who had woken up from his place against the window at the exchange.

“What time is it?” The captain asked, stretching and hiding a yawn behind his hand.

“Almost twelve,” Hans informed him. “Does Janosh have to cook for us here too, or do we get to explore the city to get lunch?”

“Unfortunately, they do not have a kitchen for me to use here,” Janosh sighed and shook Adder awake, who had fallen asleep on his shoulder and had looked quite cosy. “So, it is either whatever they serve us or whatever we find in town.”

Hans seemed elated at the idea, face gleaming which joy as they made their way out of the bus and towards the school that according to the plank on the wall next to the entrance used to be something called the Italian court, where an older man and a boy around their age, both dressed in sky blue, awaited them, looking much more happy to see them that the Trosky reception committee had been.

“Olda,” the boy with the brown hair greeted Olda, who let out a huff, but still shook his hand.

“Liechtenstein.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me John, you fool.” Liechtenstein’s – or John’s – smile never wavered during the exchange and Henry was not sure if they hated each other or were very good friends.

“Father Godwin,” the man with the grey hair and the brown eyes greeted Godwin with a hug, that told Henry that they had known each other for a long time. “Finally, someone that can keep up with me.”

“I think you are overestimating yourself, my dear Kunzlin, when you think you can keep up with me,” Godwin replied and the older man laughed.

Were they talking about drinking?

“We will simply have to see, don’t we? John?” The man who had to be the headmaster turned towards Liechtenstein, who had been going through and greeting all of the players. “Bring the boys to their rooms, would you?”

“Of course, Lord Ruthard.” John bowed his head in the direction of the older man and then turned back towards the Suchdol boys, a wide smile on his face. “Follow me, gentlemen. The faster you get to your rooms the faster you will be free of your luggage and get to explore our wonderful city.”

Hans seemed to be excited about the latter point as he joined John at the head of the group, while Henry stayed back with Janosh and Adder, who were – even though Janosh had not brought his cooking stuff this time – struggling with their luggage.

“I had to bring snacks, did I not?” Janosh asked as Henry almost fell over, not expecting the weight of Janosh’s bag.

“Did you bring rocks?” Henry replied. “And are you not supposed to buy snacks when you are in town and not bring your own?”

“My Nagymama is going to give me a ton for Christmas anyway to share with all of you guys. So be grateful.” Janosh just waved of Henry’s questions. “And I need to make space for then.”

“That’s why I brought my liquor,” Adder grinned and shook his bag, in which multiple bottles clinked together and Henry let out a sigh. He needed to get out of here before these two got any ideas.

“Henry!” As if Hans had somehow received Henry’s distress signal, the blond stuck his head out of the window above them. “Hurry up! There is a city to explore!”

Henry had half expected Hans to ditch him as soon as they got to the city. To find the nearest café, pretend to write his god-awful poetry to look artsy and impress girls, but… he wanted to explore the city… with Henry?

Better than getting roped into whatever Janosh and Adder were certainly going to get up to soon.

“I am coming. I am coming. Mr. Impatient.” With an apology on his lips Henry turned to Adder and Janosh but they just pushed him in the direction of the stairs.

“Go. We don’t want to keep our lordship waiting.” Janosh snuck two chocolate bars into Henry’s pocket. “Not when he is screaming around like an angry canary.”

“I heard that.”

“You were supposed to,” Janosh shot back and then made a bow. “My lord.”

Hans just rolled his eyes while Adder and Janosh snickered. “Come on, Henry, or do I have to get you?”

“Can we get lunch wherever you want to take me so bad?” Henry asked as he made his way up the stairs and was met with a beaming Hans in the corridor, who led them to the room they would be sharing, just the two of them this time around, but it was a much smaller room, too.

“I will buy you a feast if you just hurry up right now.”

What had gotten into Hans? Had he eaten a swarm of bumblebees and that was why he could not sit still?

Henry threw his backpack onto his bed and turned back to Hans. “Ready to depart, your lordship. Where are we going exactly?”

“Buying you a Christmas present, of course,” Hans said like it was the most normal thing in the world and Henry felt his blood run cold. Hans wanted to buy him… He did not have anything for Hans. Oh god, he was such a bad roommate. They had never talked about gifts before. The only people Henry knew were getting him something were Janosh, who said that he did not want anything in return and whom Henry actually believed, and Theresa, who Henry had intended to buy something for while they were here anyway.

“You don’t have to…”

“Oh, I know,” Hans cut him off. “But first of all I want to and second of all I want to rack up a bill that will make Hanush groan when he looks at his credit card, so be a good roommate and help me out here, would you?”

It was a statement Henry would have believed at the beginning of the year, now he saw it for what it was: an excuse. A way for Hans to make it seem like he did not care and for Henry to not feel guilty about accepting Hans’ money.

“What were you thinking?” Henry sighed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. If it was some high-end department store then he would not even know what to buy and…

“John said there is a charity shop in an alley just off the fountain, but it closes at three so if we want to get lunch before it closes, we should hurry up.”

Hans Capon knew what a charity shop was?!

Henry should have expected it. He had been wearing Hans’ leather jacket for a while now and that thing was not exactly new but… Henry had just expected he got it sourced or inherited it or something.

Hans hurried them out of the school and pulled out his phone, typing around a bit before turning to Henry. “Is it not fantastic to have reception anywhere you go?”

“No belltower for us today,” Henry agreed and followed Hans past the church and onto what the tourist guide they passed on the way called “Wine Street”, which was a bunch of restaurants with only a couple of tables out front, since it was freezing.

At a food stall Henry picked up two pretzels for them, ignoring Hans yelling at him to hurry up and followed the blond down the street, who looked right in his element in the sea of people, moving like he was born for crowds.

As he caught up with Hans, he saw a couple of girls following his roommate with their eyes as they sipped their coffees, wrapped in thick blankets outside one of the restaurants, and he could not fault them. Hans looked quite striking, with his long brown coat making him look even taller and his golden hair slightly tousled from the wind. With the pops of colour from the red lining of the coat and the yellow scarf he looked like he belonged on a magazine cover and not next to Henry, who passed Hans the pretzel, finally making the blond look up from his phone, with which he was trying to navigate.

“Here, food. So now stop running.” Hans’ expression went from confusion to a bright smile that made Henry almost forget that it was a cold, grey day and not a spring morning.

“Thanks.”

They sat at the fountain, which had no water in it this time of year, and as they were eating their pretzels, something kept nagging at Henry.

“You don’t have to buy me clothes, you know? I am not a charity case. I have money.”

“Would you ever spend that on yourself?” Hans replied, not a hint of hesitation and turned around so he could sit cross-legged on the ledge of the fountain and look directly at Henry, who suddenly felt a bit nervous under the intense gaze of his roommate.

“I don’t need…”

“Oh, you do need,” Hans cut him off and tugged on the sleeve of the jacket Henry was wearing, Hans’ jacket, that still had the lighter in the pocket.

“Let me guess. Radzig sends you money and you don’t want anything to do with it, correct?”

How…

“I notice way more things than you realise, Henry.” Hans waved him off before he could even ask his question. “Like – for example, something that is not related to you – Janosh and Adder have been acting weird for a while and not in a ‘we had a fight’ kind of way weird.”

You did not notice when I was drowning in my bed the day we met in the woods, but Hans had still done his best to ignore him back then, so Henry did not really blame him. He would not have accepted any help from the rich prick Henry thought Hans was back then anyway.

“These two have been weird from the start to be fair,” Henry tried to lead the conversation away from himself, with no success.

“True. True. But back to you, my charming knight.” Hans really needed to stop saying shit like that. And a wink too! What was Henry? Some girl he wanted to take out and never talk to again? Surely not.

“You are freezing most of the time. You at least need a proper jacket or you will not survive your trip up North and my room will be painfully empty.”

“More room for your clothes,” Henry commented under his breath, which got him a punch in the shoulder by Hans.

“Not funny. Ranyek and I would be stuck listening to Olda for the rest of eternity.”

“Like I can do much to stop him.”

“Sometimes shared sorrow is a third of the sorrow, but anyway.”

Henry sighed. He was really not getting out of this one, was he?

“I can’t have my roommate walking around freezing all the time.” Hans stood up and put his hands on his hips. “That will reflect on my image as a good lord.”

“What image?”

This time Hans would have probably knocked him into the water if there had been any, so he just sufficed with grabbing Henry by the sleeve and dragging him towards the alley, where the shop apparently was. “You are an ungrateful little shit sometimes, you know that?”

“So I have been told.”

“I will find a fountain to dunk you in,” Hans threatened. “I swear to god.”

The charity shop was nice. Clothes cramped in every corner, low music coming from some hidden speaker in-between the shelves, old wood floors that had seen so many shoes that it looked almost polished again.

“So…” Hans pulled out his phone. “You need. A jacket, a sweater, trousers – because you are not going to walk around with your only pair of actual trousers all winter – maybe some shirts too and while we are at it, a new bag to replace your backpack. I can’t look at that thing without fearing the seams will explode if I look too hard.”

“It is not that bad,” Henry replied defensibly and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You stuff it with so many books I am surprise the handles have not just ripped off.”

Hans was not completely wrong. His backpack had seen better days, but so far Henry had been able to fix all the damage he had done by overfilling this thing’s capacity with a little help from Bozhena, on the other hand however…If Hans insisted on buying him clothes for Christmas, then he could spend a couple more bucks on a bag that would fit all of it. It was not like he would miss it.

“Alright,” Henry gave in, which made Hans face light up.

“Perfect.” Hans turned around to where the jackets were. “First order of business is a jacket, because I want mine back.”

Henry could not help but feel a little bit offended at that. He had gotten quite used to the old, brown leather. The weight of the golden lighter familiar in his pocket.

“How did you get into thrifting?” Henry asked and started flipping through the ranks. It was mostly in the prize range where he would have bought stuff for himself, when his parents were still there to give him an allowance, which made him feel slightly better about Hans paying for it.

“One of my friend’s friend – she is actually from around here I think… maybe… can’t remember – she dragged us through Manchester because she wanted to go to this one store and it was…” Hans stopped himself, before he continued again. “Not the best weather conditions.”

It was raining.

Hans avoided saying the word after he had figured out that the storms were bothering Henry and Henry did not know how to feel about it.

It had stormed a couple of times since then, not as bad as they had been but not the worst either. He had managed just fine with the headphones, Mutt sleeping in his bed and a couple of missed classes, which Hans brought him the notes for. After the first time, Hans did not sleep in his bed anymore. Mutt was enough to keep the water from filling his lungs and Henry… He did not want to rely on Hans. He – in fact – did not want to have to rely on anyone. When everyone could disappear at a second’s notice.

The first storm, after the three days Hans had spent basically glued to Henry’s side making sure he was alright, Hans had… not directly offered again, but…

Olda is going to hate that training is inside again if it keeps going like that all night.

Henry had just nodded and wished Hans good night before putting his headphones on and going to sleep. Alone.

Sure. He and Hans were somewhat friends now, but… It was still Hans they were talking about.

The blond was still rambling on when he pulled a black leather jacket out of the mix of browns.

“What do we think about this one?” He asked and held the jacket up to Henry.

“That is a very nice jacket.” A brunette with blue eyes had appeared, from behind one of the shelves. She was quite pretty, even if she didn’t hold a candle to Theresa, at least when it came to Henry.

Hans perked up immediately, turning around and smiling at the girl, whose name had to be Karolina, judging by the badge on her grey sweater, which she wore over a brown palette skirt and grey tights.

“It is, indeed, now Henry just needs to try it on, so we can move on to the next thing on the list. Sweaters.” Hans pressed the jacket into Henry’s hands and then walked over to Karolina. “You see, my friend Henry, he lost his suitcase on the way here and now we need to find him a new wardrobe before he becomes an ice statue, because he thought he did not need a jacket for the journey. And now look at him. Walking around in mine like it belongs to him.”

“It is very nice of you, lending him your jacket,” Karolina replied and offered to take the brown leatherjacket off of Henry while he tried on the black one, but he just hung it over one of the chairs standing around.

Nice

Henry wanted to laugh. Hans was lying out of his arse and this girl was believing all of it. She had no reason not to trust Hans to be fair, but…that was so typical of Hans again. Making himself look good. At least he had not mentioned that he was paying for Henry’s stuff, too.

Henry found a mirror and took a look at himself. The jacket actually fit him very well and had big pockets too. Wider fit actually suiting his stature way better than Hans’ jacket, which may look fashionably oversized on the lordling that had never worked a day in his life, but not on Henry, who had spent his holidays and weekends helping his father out at the shop and had a much sturdier build, compared to Hans’ lean statue.

“This one is good.” Henry took the jacket off again and took the basket that Karolina offered to him with a smile, that he half heartedly returned.

“Great.” Hans turned to face Karolina again. “My dear Karo, where can we find the sweaters?”

Karolina or Karo – how Hans had taken to call her – lead them through the entire shop, Hans’ attention mostly focused on her, except for when he was showing Henry something he had picked out for him, while chatting with Karolina. She had pretty good taste, Henry had to admit.

On the way to the register, with closing time already nearing, Henry spotted a necklace. It was a violet, made from metal, not much bigger than a coin. Theresa would love that one, but Henry wasn’t going to let Hans pay for Theresa’s present.

“Want to put your new jacket on right away?” Hans asked, as Karolina was still scanning the rest of the items. Henry had picked up a sweater, another pair of jeans, a button down, two shirts and a big messenger-bag that would be able to hold all of his new clothes and his old ones, at least for the trip back to Suchdol, where he would repack.

“Sure.” Henry shrugged and gave Hans his jacket back, before putting on the new one. It was a bit heavier, but Henry liked that. It made him feel a bit more grounded.

“Don’t forget your wallet, Henry,” Hans said and pulled his own wallet out of the pocket of the jacket Henry had just been wearing and handed it to him like it was Henry’s. “You have already lost enough of your shit on this trip, haven’t you?”

Henry rolled his eyes, to keep up the ruse, and gave Karolina the money he owed her, before saying goodbye and leaving the shop.

“You did not have to do that.” When they reached the fountain, Henry gave Hans his wallet back, who just stuffed it into his pocket and waved him of.

“Don’t mention it.”

Chapter Text

“And then – don’t laugh, Henry – that guy Erik punched me in the face. Can you believe it?” Hans put his spoon down on the table, shaking the glasses slightly. “I even got a scar from it.”

“That is Erik, alright,” John sighed, pushing his hand through his slightly longer, brown hair, before looking over to his friend, Sam, who the young Lord Lichtenstein had introduced Henry and Hans to, when they met in the corridor in front of the dining hall on the way to dinner.

After they had returned from their little shopping trip, they had gone up to their room for Henry to drop of his new stuff and change into one of the new shirts right away. It was a faded blue and had the logo of a mechanic shop on it, that was probably out of business by now, but it reminded Henry of his dad’s shop, so he had picked it up anyway.

“Remember when he and Istvan went after you last year?” John asked and took a sip from his cup.

“How could I forget.” Sam rubbed his eyes and let out a tired chuckle, before lowering his hand again. “I intercepted one too many plays and suddenly I am a threat.”

“You are a threat,” Henry replied. “According to Olda at least.”

He vaguely remembered Olda talking about Samuel at one point during the bus ride, but he had been too absorbed in his book to listen Olda bitch about Lichtenstein again, who Henry now – after seeing them interact during dinner – assumed that he actually had great respect for and actually liked, but Olda would never admit that.

John was equally invested in this whole football thing – with his first question to Hans and Henry being what positions they played – and with Sam seemingly the Ranyek to his Olda, who listed to him yap, even if Sam seemed a bit more attentive then Ranyek, who was mostly just kind of someone for Olda to talk at while he formulated his thoughts, and did not need or want real feedback from.

“I will take that as a compliment, I guess,” Sam replied and went back to his sandwich.

The dining room in the Kuttenberg academy was quite cosy, more so than the one in Suchdol, with lower ceilings and more fireplaces and candelabras with real candles, which seemed like a fire hazard to Henry.

The Suchdol boys were sprinkled all around the room talking with the Kuttenberg boys like they were old friends. This was probably what the tourneys and games were actually for. Making friends and connections, not beating each other to a pulp.

Sometimes Henry wondered how Bartosch was doing, all alone with no allies in Trosky, but Henry would find out about that in a couple of weeks when they played the spring tournament, would he not?

“While we are on the topic of football…” Hans’ voice brought Henry back into the present. “Where is your field? The guys said that it is inside but I have seen no gymnasium anywhere.”

Sam and John shared a glance and smirked, before John spoke up again. “That is because it is not above ground.”

What did they…

“Kuttenberg has a pretty… let’s say lively underworld,” Sam explained. “And with all the old buildings everywhere, our headmaster did not want to plant a new building right of the school, so the old cellars got an update.”

“Pretty cool, right?” John asked smiling, “I feel like an explorer anytime I go down there.”

Henry could feel Hans freezing up next to him for a second, but his interested smile never wavered, not even as his knuckles turned white around the bench, where he was gripping it next to Henry’s hand, who did not know what to do.

“Your gym is in a cellar?” Henry asked carefully, sending a side glance to Hans, who was currently checking something on his phone. Or at least pretending to do that. He was on the weather app from what Henry could make out.

“They broke the floor to another level below, so it is technically two cellars,” John informed him. “And don’t worry about ventilation, we got a good system for that. It is quite spacious down there actually, had to install some stuff on the ceiling to keep the echo from going crazy.”

Henry moved his hand towards Hans’ under the table to… He did not really know what to do. Just… something. Hans had been there for him when the storm hit and Henry could at least help him with… whatever was going on in his mind right now.

However, the second Henry’s fingers brushed Hans’ hand, the blond shoot up in his seat and pressed his phone to his ear.

“Yes? Jitka?” Hans climbed over the bench and mouthed a “sorry” to the other three, who all had almost gotten a heart attack from his sudden move. “No, I don’t know when the dinner is starting. Yes, the silver one would look great on you, but don’t you want to keep that for New Year’s?”

There was that name again.

Jitka.

Hans never really talked about his friends from back home, but judging from the way he had been talking to Karolina today, Jitka was definitely not his girlfriend or Hans was a shitty boyfriend, which Henry did not want to believe for Jitka’s sake.

“Right, right,” Hans sighed and pushed his hair out of his face. “Give me a second, yeah?”

The lordling turned towards Henry, John and Sam who had been staring at him, a bit confused. “Sorry, guys, this is important. See you later?”

The three of them just nodded, still confused, before Hans turned back to his phone and practically ran out of the hall.

Had he texted Jitka to call him to get out of here? Because that was an actual call, not just Hans faking it. Henry had seen the caller ID on his display, before Hans had jumped up like the brush of Henry’s finger had burned him.

“Who was that?” Sam asked, fixing his necklace so the closure was in the back again.

“One of his friends from home,” Henry explained, something just clicking into place in his brain. “I think they are spending Christmas together.”

“Do you think he is coming back for his sandwich?” John asked, pointing towards the barely touched bread.

“I have no idea,” Henry was still focused on the door Hans had disappeared through.

Should I go after him, just to check if he is ok?

Hans was probably fine. He was talking to a friend and it was not like John had opened a trapdoor and dropped them in a tiny, windowless cellar.

Henry just had to believe that Hans was fine, because he could not suddenly jump up too, that would be suspicious.

“I should probably just pack it up for him, otherwise our lordship is going to get all hangry again and no-one wants to see that,” Henry commented and laid out one of the napkins on the table to wrap Hans’ sandwich in it.

“Nobles getting cranky?” Sam chuckled before looking a John. “Where have I seen that before?”

“I am not that bad,” John insisted, which Sam decided to comment on by taking a sip from his cup. “Oh, come on.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Sam replied and put his cup back down and took a bite from his sandwich before adding. “Not my fault that you feel offended by a totally innocent comment.”

Henry decided that he liked Sam. He seemed much more grounded than most of the other boys and was giving John as much shit as Henry was giving Hans.

“I am not cranky.” John crossed his arms in front of his chest, as if that would make him look anything less cranky. He was still wearing his blue button down and cravat with the golden pin, in contrast to Sam, who was wearing normal clothing just like Henry, a green hoodie, and looked much less like he had a stick up his arse.

Henry watched the two banter for a bit longer, before he deemed it inconspicuous to get up too.

“Are you going to bed, too?” John asked, scandalised, and looked down at his watch. “It just turned nine.”

“No, I’m not,” Henry replied and lifted Hans’ sandwich. “I’m gonna look for his lordship so he gets his dinner. He can as well chat and eat his bloody dinner.”

“Good, because I am not done with you Suchdol boys yet.” John winked at Henry at which Sam just rolled his eyes and waved Henry goodbye.

“Ignore him,” Sam sighed, “he is trying to be mysterious.”

Henry did not wait for John’s response to that and just left the dining hall and took a quick look at the courtyard, where a couple of students were hanging out, some smoking, some just talking, but no golden hair to be seen.

Where had Hans gone?

They did not know many places around here.

With no better idea, Henry went back to their room, hoping to find Hans there and maybe…yeah? What would he do when he found him?

Maybe just give him his sandwich and the chocolate bar Janosh had given to him. Chocolate was always a good call.

When Henry reached their room, after only getting lost once, he found Hans sitting on the floor between their beds, texting someone. Relief washed over Henry as he saw his roommate bathed in moonlight.

“I got your sandwich.”

Hans looked up from his phone, a golden strand falling into his eyes, that he not even bothered to push back, making him look a bit dishevelled, but the smile at seeing Henry was genuine.

“My saviour. I am starving over here.”

Henry gave him the rest of his dinner and sat down across from Hans.

“You…” Henry watched Hans dig into his sandwich and swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. How had Hans done it with him? He had been much more of a mess than Hans was right now. “You were gone pretty fast there. You good?”

You good???!! Really Henry? Can’t come up with anything better?

“Yeah. Yeah. Just…” Hans swallowed his bite and avoided Henry’s gaze. “Had to arrange some things with…”

“Jitka, right,” Henry sighed and leaned back against his bedframe, looking up at the ceiling. “She is one of your friends from home.”

“One of my oldest friends,” Hans agreed and then corrected himself. “My oldest friend. Lady Jitka of Kunstadt. Her uncle is friends with my uncle so on and so on. Honestly, I think they put us together, hoping we would fall in love.”

Hans let out a dry chuckle. “Jokes on them, because if we had never met, they would probably have way less headaches.”

Hoping we would fall in love

So, she was not his girlfriend.

That is not important right now, Henry, he scolded himself. This is about if Hans is ok or not, not if he…

“But really now, are you…”

“Yes. Henry,” Hans cut him off. “I am ok. I talked Olda into letting me sit out tomorrow’s game, since I was supposed to take it easy anyway and I am spending tomorrow with Karo. She gave me her number and I am not about to leave the girl hanging. I was just texting her. Do you know when the game starts?”

Right.

Karo

Of course, Hans would rather go after a girl he would never see again, then talk about his feelings.

“At ten.” The charity shop opened at eight. Enough time for Henry to get the necklace for Theresa and get ready for the game. Now he maybe had to dodge Hans on the way back, going on his little date.

Henry watched Hans type and his face almost immediately lighting up with delight when he got a text back. “Looks like I have a date, folks.”

Henry was about to say something when somebody knocked on their door, making them both look up.

“Yes?” Henry asked and went to open the door, only to be met with Janosh.

“Ready to party, gentlemen?” Janosh was leading the doorframe, his shirt half unbuttoned revealing golden chains and dark chest hair, hair tussled, already looking a bit drunk.

“Party?” Hans asked, shooting up like a deer again.

“Oh yes, yes. John arranged it after we…” Janosh was seemingly looking for the right words, swinging his bottle around, the contents of which looked suspiciously clear. “…approached him with a proposition. And he got us one of the cellars. The ones the teachers don’t know about or choose to ignore. One of those.”

“Well, have fun then, boys. I am beat.” Hans yawned and flopped down on his bed. “Got up way too early today and taking Henry shopping was exhausting.”

“I bet flirting with Karo was exhausting,” Henry murmured under his breath, low enough for Hans not to hear, but Janosh’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“See you tomorrow, then,” he said, loud enough for Hans to hear, grabbed his jacket and closed the door behind himself, not waiting to hear Hans tell him goodbye.

“New jacket?” Janosh asked as Henry tugged on the jacket with no lighter in its pockets.

“New shirt too. Got it today. Vintage.” Henry did a little spin, which got a chuckle out of Janosh, who put an arm around Henry’s shoulders and offered Henry the bottle, who took it without a word or even questioning its contents, before taking a big swing. It burned as it went down his throat, but he did not wince as he passed the bottle back to Janosh, who took an equally big swing.

Seemed like Henry was not the only one in an unexplainable mood tonight.

The cellar room was quite big, with high ceilings and benches along the walls, where a lot of boys were already sitting or standing, some smoking, even down here, a lot easier to get those when you lived in a city and not in the middle of nowhere.

“And they really won’t come looking for us down here?” Henry asked as he watched Janosh drain the rest of their bottle. He already felt quite buzzed, a warm feeling spreading in his chest. A familiar one. The one he could place as the alcohol spreading through his body, making everything seem a bit slower, like he was walking through molasses, and much lighter at the same time, like nothing really mattered and it really did not. There was no schoolwork to take care of and he would see Theresa in a couple days. Yeah, there was that dinner with Radzig, but fuck that.

Fuck him.

And fuck Hans.

“Want to get wasted?” Janosh asked, like he had read Henry’s mind and offered him a beer.

“Can you read minds?” Henry replied, deciding not to worry if the teachers caught them any longer and took the bottle.

“It is more a pot calling the kettle black,” Janosh sighed, his eyes lingering on Adder, who was talking to one of the Kuttenberg boys, before they returned to Henry.

The other boy had dark flowing locks, light eyes and a knowing smile on the older boy’s lips as he stole Adder’s beer from him to take a sip, at which the blond only smiled back.

Oh…

OH!

Henry shot around to Janosh, who had already turned away from the pair and moved towards one of the corners, where Henry spotted Zizka, Kubyenka and… was that Katherine sitting next to Zizka?

“Henry.” John appeared behind him and the crowd moved again, obstructing his view. “Is Hans still on the phone or why is he not here? I assumed…”

“He was tired and wants to be in best shape for his date tomorrow.” Henry gave up looking for Janosh and turned to whisper to John, just as Sam appeared out of the crowed too. “He is skipping the game for it, but don’t tell Olda. I don’t think he told him the truth to get out of the game.”

“My lips are sealed,” John promised, turning to Sam as the other boy touched his hip to get his attention is a rather… familiar manner, like he was about to pull John close with a hand around his waist, but thought better of it. “Yes, dear?”

“Someone got a hold the playlist again,” Sam informed him just as “Last Christmas” started playing.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” John cursed and disappeared into the crowd to presumably find the culprit.

“I see you already got acquainted with the bar,” Sam said and clinked his bottle together with Henry’s.

“Aye,” Henry agreed turning back to the honestly impressive assortment of drinks. “How do you get this all down here?”

The stairwell Janosh and he had come down was rather cramped, just enough space for the two of them standing next to each other.

“The tunnels go quite far,” Sam replied with an innocent tone and pulled his necklace out of his hoodie where – next to a David star lay an old looking key. “And the key’s easily lost.”

The music shifted again and suddenly they were blessed by “Smooth Criminal” mixing with the voices and the boys burst out laughing.

It was already late into the night, when Henry stumbled back to his room, alerted by John and Sam also going to bed since they were at least somewhat responsible. Henry had thought about staying a bit longer. Maybe getting another beer, but then Theresa’s face flashed in front of his eyes and then he remembered that he at least had to go to bed at a reasonable time if he wanted to pick up the necklace for her.

Hans is probably already getting his beauty sleep.

The thought made him stop in his tracks. On one hand he wanted to barge in and wake him, make him stay up a bit longer and send him on his date with dark moons under his eyes. On the other… Hans did not deserve that. He had let Henry sleep for as long as was possible during the storm, so Henry was not going to wake him up now.

A cold breeze came down the corridor and drew Henry’s attention to the open door that led into the courtyard and…who was standing there smoking?

Henry had never seen Janosh smoke.

“What are you doing up here?” Henry asked and took a step out into the night. The cold air not as biting as he had feared it would be but still somewhat clearing his head. Pushing the soft mist aside that had built a layer between him and the world, making everything feel like it could not hurt him at all.

“It became too stuffy down there,” Janosh replied and took a drag of his cigarette. “And you? Going back to your lordling?”

“I am going to bed,” Henry sighed. “He just happens to be there, too.”

Janosh chuckled and blew blue smoke into the cloudy sky, but there was no joy in his voice.

“What happened?” Henry asked. His mouth running away with him. “With you and Adder?”

Like a puppet, whose strings had been cut, Janosh sank back against the door frame and Henry half expected him not to answer at all, before he suddenly spoke up. His voice cold and raw. “You know what they say- never kiss your best friend.”

Chapter Text

It was supposed to be a joke. Doesn’t feel like one now.

Henry could still hear Janosh’s sad chuckle as he walked back to the charity shop the next morning. Head slightly hurting, but the memory of Janosh smoking in the courtyard was eerily clear compared to everything else that happened last night.

When he woke up, Hans was already awake, fidgeting around with his camera, which he put aside pretty fast as he saw Henry stir from his sleep.

“Seems like I missed a great party,” Hans had joked and given Henry some aspirin, which made up for the uncountable number of instances where Hans had been the one giving Henry the headache.

Janosh was nowhere to be seen at breakfast and Henry had no time to waste so he quickly avoided Olda and Ranyek in the corridor, who would probably rope him into a conversation he had no time for, got his jacket and his wallet and went back to the charity shop.

Thankfully the necklace was still there so Henry picked up the violet and went to the counter, where who was sitting? Right. Karolina.

Her brown hair was tamed in a messy updo and she was wearing a similar outfit to the day before, but a dark red sweater this time and a grey skirt over grey and black harlequin patterned tights.

“Oh. Henry.” Surprised, she put her phone down and greeted him with a genuine smile, that Henry for some reason had a hard time returning. “Back so soon.”

“Yeah,” he replied and gave her the necklace. “Saw that one yesterday but then forgot about it before paying, and when I remembered it was already too late.”

“Is it a Christmas present?” Karolina asked, intrigued, and scanned the label.

“Yes,” Henry agreed, keeping his reply purposefully short. He had not time for small talk.

“Do you want me to wrap it, then?” Karolina offered, startling Henry a bit. “It doesn’t cost anything and I am sure she would appreciate it.”

“Yeah, that would be nice,” Henry got out past the lump in his throat. How…

“Don’t look so surprised,” Karolina chuckled and grabbed a little velvet pouch from under the counter and then some wrapping paper. “Who would a boy buy a necklace for, if not his girlfriend.”

Theresa was not his girlfriend. Not anymore anyway. They were just friends. A girl that was his friend. Same as Henry was just her friend that happened to be a boy. Nothing about it. But he still did not correct Karolin, before he gave her the money and put the now expertly wrapped gift into his pocket, where Hans’ lighter used to be.

The town was already bustling with people, vendors having come out and celling Christmas themed snacks and ornaments wherever you looked and Henry was just about to try finding a short cut through the alleyways when he felt something cold land on his cheek and melt, turning into a quiet tear he had never cried as it ran down his face.

“Look. Mama. Look.” A little girl next to Henry was jumping up and down excitedly and pointed at the sky while tugging at her mother’s sleeve. “It’s snowing.”

For a second everything stopped.

Henry had always loved snow as a kid and even as he got older. It meant a hot chocolate right after he got home from school and snowball fights in the schoolyard with his friends. But now…

Please, he thought and took one last breath before looking up. Please don’t take this from me too.

White flakes floated down from light clouds like down feathers from Frau Holle’s pillows, carefully caressing his cheek as if to soothe him and then the world awoke again from the slumber in which Henry’s fear had banned it away. It came back with all its noise and life and now water at his feet and Henry felt like a chain had just splintered. He was free. Free of his fear of having to lose another thing he loved. He was not going to drown in snow and it was a dry sort of cold that made your skin burn, but did not slowly creep into your bones.

Henry was free and so he laughed with just as much glee as the little girl beside him, the cross around his neck suddenly lighter too.

“No, you don’t understand.”

Henry heard Hans’ voice before he ever reached the main gate. His roommate sounded worried and Henry wondered what had caused his distress now. Was his hair not perfect for his date?

“I just need to find him and talk to him, ok? Has nobody seen him?”

“Calm down, little lordling.” That was Hynek, who waved at Henry when he saw him step into the courtyard. “There he is. All in one piece.”

Hans shot around, worry written all over his face and snowflakes in his hair.

“Sakra. Henry. Don’t disappear like that,” Hans scolded him and walked over to Henry, only to add a bit quieter so the other boys did not hear him. “Are you alright with the…”

“I just went to pick a gift up for a friend,” Henry explained and looked up into the white sky, snow coming down stronger now. “The snow was a nice surprise.”

At his words, all the tension seemed to leave Hans’ body and Henry almost expected him to fall over, so sudden was the shift from high strung to deeply relaxed.

“I always liked the snow,” Henry added as he caught a snowflake in his palm and watched it melt.

“I am glad,” Hans replied. The honest relief front and centre in his voice.

Had Hans been searching for Henry since it started snowing? Worrying that he had crawled into some dark corner to hide out the storm?

“I am fine. Really,” Henry insisted and put an arm around Hans’ shoulder. “And now let’s get back to our room. I have to get ready for a game and you have to get ready for a date.”

“Right.” Hans smiled, still a bit unsure. “Let’s go then, before Olda lights a fire under our arses to make us hurry up.”

While Henry changed into his kit, Hans was sitting on his bed, tapping against the back of his phone. “So where did you go?”

“Buying a Christmas present for a friend,” Henry replied and pulled his hoodie over his head and threw it into his new bag, before taking his cross off and putting on his tricot.

“Which friend? You never mention anyone from back home.”

Because they are all dead.

“Well…” Hans added only for his eyes to suddenly light up with a realisation. He stopped playing around with his phone and scooted forward on his bed. “Except for you girlfriend. Uh. What did you buy for her? Can I see?”

“Theresa isn’t my girlfriend,” Henry insisted and fixed his hair in his reflection in the window, before turning back to Hans, who looked like he did not believe any word that had just come out of Henry’s mouth.

“I solemnly swear that I will not tell the others,” Hans promised. “Just tell me about her.”

“There is nothing to tell,” Henry replied.

Nothing for you to know at least, Henry added but never spoke the words.

Theresa was incredible, determined, kind, extremely forward even if you did not want her to be and the most genuine person Henry had ever met. And she was all that Henry had left of his old life. A life that Hans was not a part of and never would be.

“We used to date and now we are friends. I am going to visit her for Christmas, because…you know…Radzig.”

“So, you want to win her back, got it.” Hans nodded like Olda had just explained a football strategy to him, when he was just talking bullshit.

“I don’t…” Henry bit his tongue. Hans was not going to believe him anyway, so what use was there in denying.

“Don’t you have a date to get ready for?” Henry asked instead and picked up his old backpack, which now only held his water bottle and his football shoes, which he had gotten with his tricot.

“Do I not look presentable?” Hans asked and leaned back against his pillows, presenting his look to Henry.

He looked quite studious with a wine-red turtleneck, that would match perfectly with Karolina’s sweater – not that Henry would tell Hans that – and his dark brown slacks that matched his long coat. His golden hair was artfully effortless and the golden rings on his fingers, not too eye catching, excelling the look of young lord that cared for his peasants quite well and did not directly scream of effort but was not just random things thrown on.

“Why would you care?” Henry responded. “You won’t see her again after this anyway or is she going to get you to change your ways?”

“Maybe she will,” Hans replied and winked at Henry, who suddenly felt like he would see his hurried breakfast again sooner than he had wanted. “Maybe she won’t. You never know. That is the fun of the game.”

Love is not a game, Henry wanted to say, but he had no time to argue with Hans. He could already hear Olda and the other boys come down the corridor.

“Just don’t break her heart, ok?” Henry said and tugged his sports jacket on. “She is a nice girl.”

“I had no intention of doing that,” Hans replied, just as someone knocked on their door.

“Come on, boys.” It was Adder, with his voice cheery as usual, when Henry had that undeniable wish to punch him in the face for kissing Janosh then claiming afterwards that it meant nothing to him and it had been only a joke between friends.

“Let’s kick Kuttenberg’s arse!”

“You are in high demand, my dear knight,” Hans joked, got up and poked him in the ribs playfully as he passed him.

The gym was quite spacious. Warm lights dangling from the high ceiling that disappeared in pure darkness and dark stone walls that met the darkness in the high corners. Hans would not like it here, but the Kuttenberg boys were gathered in high numbers. The bleachers, that were pushed up against the far wall were packed with people in Kuttenberg-blue and…

“Hello boys!” Katherine was sitting in the front row, wearing a jersey, waving at them, some of the other boys shooting her curious looks, that she either did not notice or purposefully ignored.

It was a familiar looking jersey.

“I was wondering where you disappeared to last night,” Matthew muttered under his breath, earning a kick into the back of the knee from Zizka that made him trip, while the other boys chuckled and the captain turned red.

“Shut up, will you?” Zizka hissed and went to threats immediately, as soon as the other boys’ smiles just got wider. “Do you want to run an extra lap today?”

“No, Captain,” they all replied in unison and dropped their smiles.

“Then go,” Zizka sighed and rubbed his eyes, “one lap around the gym.”

“What are you waiting for?” Zizka added, as they did not move the first time around, only for them to scatter at his words.

“Looks like Hans will be winning his bet,” Ranyek whispered to Henry and Olda.

“And with no efforts of our own,” Olda agreed, his smile getting bigger with every word. “Which means we get a share of the Devil’s money, without doing anything.”

“Never bet Katherine against the Devil,” Ranyek replied. “It is like she knows when he gets involved and does anything in her power to mess with him.”

“Never bet against Katherine in general.” Janosh had appeared next to them, his dark hair held back with a yellow bandana and looking surprisingly awake. Maybe he had just drank too much coffee and was going to crash after the game Adder-style. “It is like she can smell it.”

They finished their lap and continued their warmup, while the Kuttenberg boys were doing the same on the other side of the pitch. It was a much warmer atmosphere then it had been at Trosky, where even the warmup seemed to be a race. Where everyone was taking their time and when a ball made its way over the wrong side, it was really an accident and not an active attack.

Fifteen minutes before the game was supposed to start, Godwin showed up. Coffee cup and sandwich in hand and looking like he had just gotten up, but they still all gathered when he waved them over to their bench.

“You know the drill, boys,” Godwin said.

“If we win, we will get dinner on the Captain’s dime,” all the boys replied in unison and Henry wondered if Godwin had really stolen Captain Bernard’s credit card.

“But only if you win,” the old priest insisted. “Otherwise the Captain is going to get mad at me if I still take you boys out for dinner.”

After what was probably supposed an encouraging speech, they went back to their bench to drink a bit of water and rest, before the game properly began.

When they heard the sound of a phone taking a picture behind him, he turned around and lowered his bottle. It was Katherine taking pictures on her phone like a proud American soccer mom.

“I can’t rob Hans of these sights, can I?” she replied at Henry’s confusion, which must have reflected on his face.

“You are taking pictures for Hans?”

You have Hans’ number? Henry did not say but wanted to.

“I am sending him updates like he requested, before he left for his date,” Katherine explained and then showed her phone to Henry. On the screen, a picture of two cups of hot chocolate. “And I get updates in return.”

“But why?” Henry asked confused and pushed her phone away, not wanting to look at it anymore. “What do you care for Hans’ date?”

At that Katherine just shrugged and put her phone away. “I don’t, but it is funny. Every time he wants to get a glimpse of what is going on with you guys, he has to send me a picture. It won’t take long before he gets annoyed or his date…What was her name?”

“Karolina,” Henry supplied.

“Right. Karo. Yes. We will see how long it will take for her to get annoyed.”

“So, you are sabotaging him?” Henry asked and Katherine rolled her eyes with a sigh.

“If he is looking at his phone during a date, then he is not interested enough to go on a date,” she replied as if stating the obvious.

“Who is on a date?” Ranyek asked and came up to the two.

“Hans,” Henry replied. “Did he not talk about it at breakfast?”

Henry had expected Hans to brag. Talking to a girl once and going out with her on the next day? Henry liked to become friends first before taking someone out, just to figure out what type of person they were, so he did not discover on the date that he did not actually like them.

“He was too busy asking where you had disappeared to,” Ranyek shrugged just as a whistle announced the beginning of the game.

The game against Trosky was no comparison to this.

There were no insults thrown around, no people getting punched in the face, no Hans driving Erik up the wall, no Bartosch to cling to, to keep him from scoring. In that regard it was much more relaxed, but otherwise…

Henry did not think he had ever run so much in his life. Ever.

Their teamwork was immaculate. The ball never staying with one person long and always bouncing around the field, which made it hard to follow even for Zizka and with Hans being replaced by one of the younger boys on such short notice, they were a bit off their game, but after the first thirty minutes or so – and Olda’s first goal – they got into their rhythm again, meaning what might have looked like absolute chaos to some, but made perfect sense to them.

After another failed attempt of John at the goal, that the Devil sent to the front with one kick that brought the ball dangerously close to one of the ceiling lights, the boy in Kuttenberg blue did not even bother to run back to at least try to assist. Kubyenka caught the ball and forwarded it to Olda, who – with only a couple of seconds remaining before half time – scored the second goal just as the buzzer went off.

2:1

They had taken the lead in the last second.

“How?” John asked no-one in particular. Maybe he was talking to God with how he was looking at the ceiling in defeat.

“Well, you see, we got the Devil on our side,” Henry replied and John shoved him but could not hide his smile behind a scoff.

“And a dry one at that,” Adder added, which got him a “I heard that” from Hynek, which the blond just laughed at.

“That sounds like a story.” Sam had come over to give John his water bottle, which the other boy accepted gladly.

Sam was a defender just like Henry, same as John was a striker just like Hans, so the two friends spent about as much time during the game together as Henry and Hans did, which was none.

“That we are not going to tell,” the Devil warned Adder, who looked about ready to spill, and nodded in the direction of the bench.

Henry said goodbye to John and Sam for now and followed the rest of the team over to where Katherine was debating with Godwin, no respect for his “authority” whatsoever, but she was not one of his students and even if she had been, Henry doubted that she would have cared.

“I am just asking you what the budget is, old man,” Katherine was just saying as Henry picked up his water bottle. “Are you taking us to McDonald’s or do I need to rent suits for these idiots? Because we need to make a reservation ahead of time.”

“The budget needs to be small enough that the Captain won’t get mad at me when I give him the bill”, Godwin replied.

“So, sitting in the park it is,” Katherine sighed and was about to go back to her phone when Zizka chimed in.

Their captain had just watched the exchange from where he rested his head on the fence separating the bleachers from the field. “We went to a restaurant at the corner where the Czech Street meets the Meat Market last time. We can just go there again, as long as Matthew doesn’t order fancy steak again and doubles the bill.”

“I love men with a working brain,” Katherine replied and kissed him on the cheek, before looking up the restaurant, while Zizka turned a deep shade of red and the other boys made kissing noises.

Chapter Text

“Next time, we will get you,” John announced and let Henry help him up from the fake grass, where he had sat down after the buzzer went off for the last time.

3:2

At the end it had been a race. Zizka scoring their third goal just five minutes before the timer went off.

“Sure, you will,” Henry replied, knowing full well that Kuttenberg’s defence would have no chance against Hans, Olda and Kubyenka combined. Yeah, sure they had gotten used to Olda and Kubyenka, but Hans was different. He was everywhere where you did not want him to be, and Henry could speak on that, because he had to deal with him in training all the time.

“Maybe we just let you win, to make you underestimate us for the tournament,” John said, at which Henry could only scoff.

“As if Olda has underestimated anyone ever. And you weren’t that bad. If the Devil wasn’t as prolific of a goalie you would have won.”

“Our Hero Henry,” Hynek sighed and put one arm each around the younger boys. “Since when are you so prow to flattery?”

“Don’t ask,” Henry sighed at John’s questioning look and shrugged the sweaty Devil off, only to shout over to the bench, “When is our dinner reservation Godwin?!”

“In three hours, you filthy bastards!” the priest shouted back. “So get cleaned up otherwise I am going to leave you behind and Katherine and I go alone.”

“Aw, Godwin.” Katherine patted the older man’s shoulder while the boys chuckled, but her next comment made them all laugh out loud. “You know the reservation runs under my name, don’t you?”

“Were you trying to turn yourself into a lobster?” Were the words Hans greeted Henry with when he stepped out of their bathroom accompanied by a cloud of mist.

“They get the water even hotter then back in Suchdol,” Henry explained, let his towel, with which he had been drying his hair, fall around his neck and walked over to his bed where his t-shirt was lying, forgotten.

“I can see that,” Hans scoffed with no real bite behind it as he watched Henry put on his shirt and tug it into his pants, before putting on a hoodie on top of it and putting his cross back on, that now lay cold against his warm skin.

“How did the game go?”

When Henry turned back around, Hans had turned back to his phone.

“Did you forget to check Katherine’s updates?” Henry asked in return and added with a smirk on his face, “Or were you too busy for that?”

Hans threw a pillow at him that Henry caught with no effort. It was a rather weak throw anyway. “For people making out we have Zizka and Katherine. The Devil still needs to pay up by the way.”

Henry threw the pillow back at Hans, who caught it and hugged it like it was a teddy bear. “I know we won 3:2. Katherine send me a video of Zizka scoring the last goal with her cheering in the background. I think I turned deaf for a second there. But I want to know what it was like. Anyone that can compete with me?”

“No one can compete with your annoying arse,” Henry replied and Hans lifted the pillow as if to threaten him, but Henry knew it was an empty one, by the smile tugging on the corner of Hans’ mouth.

With a sigh Henry let himself fall next to Hans on the bed, who made space for him.

“It was a tough one,” Henry started as Hans listened intently. “Their teamwork was much better than ours was, but in the end, we still made it. Next time it will be better, with you back and annoying the shit out of them.”

Hans rolled his eyes, but his smile was ever so evident.

“How did your date go?” Henry asked in return and rubbed the cuff of his sleeve between his fingers, while not looking at Hans at all.

“Good. I guess,” Hans sighed and sank back against the wall, not looking at Henry either.

“Are you going to keep talking to her?” Henry asked shooting Hans a quick look before returning to the sleeve of his hoodie.

Hans looked tired. Not exhausted, but tired. Not in the way that he had not slept, as far as Henry knew he had at least done that, but more in the…like he was emotionally exhausted and Henry got it. In a couple of days, it would be Christmas. It would be the first Christmas without his parents and Hans probably had a bunch of snooty family members to deal with during the holidays and no-one liked those.

“I don’t think so,” Hans replied and Henry felt suddenly a bit lighter, even if he did not know why. “She is nice, but not what I am looking for at the moment, you know?”

“Not rich enough to bring home to the family?” Henry joked at which Hans only looked at him. His expression completely unreadable to Henry for once.

“Do you think I care about that?”

No, Henry thought, I don’t think that anymore, but he did not say that. “What better way to annoy Aunt May than by bringing a working-class girl for Christmas dinner?”

“Right,” Hans sighed and got up, his knee bumping into Henry’s almost painfully hard as he did so.

“I think we should get going now.” Hans was not looking at him, but rather at his watch. “Olda texted me that we are meeting at four forty-five to make sure that everyone arrives on time and we don’t miss our reservation.”

“I am calling it now, Adder is going to be late,” Henry prophesied and got up too, to put on his jacket that still held Theresa’s Christmas present.

“Janosh is going to make him arrive on time,” Hans countered and tugged on his coat, before walking out the door Henry was holding open for him. “He always does that.”

When they got to the front gate Janosh was already there chatting with Katherine, but Adder was nowhere to be seen.

“I give him fifteen Minutes, before the Devil gets fed up with waiting for him and finds him asleep in his room only to scare the living shit out of him, by waking him up with a scream,” Henry proclaimed as they walked closer to the other boys.

“That is…a highly specific scenario,” Hans replied and give Henry a suspicious look. “When did I miss that?”

“The week after Halloween,” Henry explained. “Did you not hear him complain to it about to Kubyenka? The Devil was laughing at him the whole time.”

“I must have missed that. What a shame,” Hans sighed and Henry nudged him in the side.

“Maybe you can see the repeat.”

Hans let out a low chuckle as Henry tripped over one of the cobblestones. “Maybe I will, but I would rather have him show up in time. I am starving.”

“Has Henry infected you with his unquenchable hunger?” Olda asked as they came to a hold next to their friends. “I knew all your time together would make you even more alike. At least Henry has not turned into a party boy.”

“Well, at least he was at the party last night, while Hans was…where exactly?”

Hans rolled his eyes at Ranyek’s comment. “Henry is far from being a party boy. He is not doing enough drugs and sneaking into clubs that he should not be in as a fifteen-year-old. I only did one of those things by the way, so I do not – I repeat – do not qualify either.”

“You arrived in a golden silk shirt smelling like a bar,” Olda scoffed. “And you are not a party boy?”

“I love giving my uncle headaches, that is all,” Hans replied, grinning.

“I also love not freezing,” the blond added, re-wrapped his scarf around his neck and buried his hands in his pockets as his breath danced around his face in a white cloud, before looking around. Most of the other boys had arrived, except for…

“If this peasant doesn’t arrive soon, we won’t have to wait for the Devil to get impatient. I will simply walk into his room and open up the window and let all the cold in that is currently eating away at my ears.”

“Ooh, our lordling is bringing out the heavy artillery,” Ranyek joked, but looked like he was freezing too.

Henry was rather cosy in his multiple layers as he had thought ahead and planned for the wait in the snowy courtyard, that looked quite magical with the sick layer of snow that had fallen during their game.

He just hoped that no one would get the idea to start a snowball fight, because he was about ready to crash and was not in the mood to get a handful of snow right in the face.

“Oh, look who is here.” Hynek’s voice made the four friends turn around and who was it, but Adder. Looking slightly groggy like he had just stumbled out of bed. His blond hair was pressed to one side of his head and his clothes were quite wrinkled.

“My phone woke me up,” Adder yawned and put on his jacket, which did not help his shivering, which Henry could not help but think was deserved.

“I put a couple of alarms in,” Janosh explained. “I was not going to bother with trying to wake you myself this time.”

Adder looked slightly hurt, like a kitten that had just gotten his favourite toy taken away, when Godwin spoke up. “Is everyone here?”

“Yes,” Zizka confirmed after counting them through. “With Adder we are complete.”

“Great,” Godwin proclaimed. “Now- no expensive steaks and no booze. If you want that, buy it with your own money. Some of you are old enough.”

They did not end up buying booze, but who needed that when you had Olda, who – with complementary photos and videos from Katherine – re-explained the whole game you had just played to Hans, who wanted to be everywhere but there.

“I don’t need ever play explain Olda,” Hans finally snapped, when the sever brought their drinks to the table – mostly water and lemonade and red wine for Godwin. The blond crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned back against the wall behind him, that was decorated with old butcher posters that showed of which cut came from which part of the cow and old advertisements. “We won. That is all that matters.”

The team, Katherine and Godwin sat in the backroom of the restaurant, that used to be part of the slaughterhouse. You could still see the drain in the middle of the room and the white tile lining the walls and floor, but somehow the owners had turned it into quite the nice restaurant. With golden light fixtures and the old advertising posters on the walls spending warm light and big windows that opened into a small backyard that was probably very beautiful in the summertime but was currently filled knee-high with snow.

“Well, do you want to talk about your date then?” Katherine asked, curiosity sparkling in her blue eyes. She and Janosh sat across from each other with Zizka between them who sat at the end of the table. Janosh had squeezed onto the bench next to Hans and Henry, who sat across from Olda and Ranyek.

“After you ditched the game for it you can at least tell us some details,” the Devil agreed and put his menu down next to Ranyek, who snatched it up, since the server was already approaching and he had still not picked his food.

“Exactly,” Kubyenka backed his roommate up.

Hans rolled his eyes with a sigh but told them anyway. “We went for a hot chocolate and talked. That is all that we did. Satisfied?”

“Boring,” Kubyenka groaned and pretend to fall asleep on Henry’s shoulder, who shrugged him off with a smile.

“What are you guys doing for the holidays?” Hans tied to change the topic and Henry could not fault him. Their friends were great but could be a bit to honest at times.

“Going back to the family,” Zizka sighed, “like all of us I assume.”

Like all of you, Henry thought but still nodded like all the other boys. In a sense he was going back to family. He was going back to Theresa. His best friend. That had to count. Right?

“Yeah, yeah.” Hans waved him off, his arm bumping into Henry’s as he did so. “We all have to do that, but I was more talking about the fun stuff. Trips. Adventures. Visiting old friends.”

“I am going to Liverpool,” Henry chimed in. “To visit friends I have not seen in a while.”

“You have to go to the Beatles museum,” Hans told him. “If you look carefully, you can find my signature on the wall. Bottom…right corner. I think. It has been a couple of years. I went to school there for a year.”

“London, Edinburgh, Hamburg, now Liverpool- where did you not go to school?” Janosh asked and sipped on his lemonade.

“It is hard to stay at a school when you don’t like anyone there.” Hans was smiling, but Henry did not quite believe him.

She is one of your friends from home.

One of my oldest friends. My oldest friend.

Jitka.

Maybe he only had Jitka, like Henry only really had Theresa.

“But now I have all you idiots, who don’t try to crawl up my arse to get favours.”

“Our pleasure, kid,” Hynek replied and the boys laughed.

This time it was a real laugh. Golden and warm just like the light filling the room on autumn mornings, like Hans’ hair in the rare winter sun. It sent a heavy warmth all through Henry’s body. Beginning where Hans’ arm brushed against his and ending right in his chest.

Maybe Hans didn’t only have Jitka and maybe Henry didn’t only have Theresa.

The bus ride back to the academy after saying goodbye to Sam and John – or in Olda’s case proclaiming that their next match is not going to go any better for the Kuttenberg boys – was a quiet one.

They were not too tired, since the dinner had not lasted too long and everyone was kind of exhausted anyway. After calling it a night earlier than usual, they had actually gotten a decent amount of sleep, so it was not exhaustion that keep them quiet.

Everyone was kind of occupied with themselves.

Ranyek was listening to music next to Olda, who was not reading about football for a change, but one of Hans’ history books instead, since he had run out of reading material and Hans for some reason was carrying a book about the Hussite Wars around with him.

Janosh and Adder were sitting together this time after the dinner yesterday, where Janosh had spent most of his time with Zizka and Katherine, who were sitting in the row behind the two, and Adder had been confined to the other end of the table where he sat between Matthew and Bohuta and shot Janosh a glance every so often, who did not even acknowledge him the whole evening, but they seemed to have made up by now, as they watched something on Adder’s phone together.

“Have I mentioned that I hate trains?” Hans asked and Henry turned to face his roommate, who was currently trying to reserve his seats in a way, that he could sit next to Henry for their whole journey to London tomorrow.

“It is better than flying,” Henry replied and Hans rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I know. I am more talking about the interface of some of these apps. DB can fuck off,” Hans cursed the German train system before checking Henry’s seat and coach number again and going back in to reserve his seat. “They are going to mess everything up anyway with their bloody delays.”

On his travel to Suchdol it had not been that bad but according to Hans the “DB Gods” had never been kind to him.

“Don’t say it out loud, or you going to provoke them,” Henry joked. Hans only sighed and sank deeper into his set, while Henry chuckled at himself.

“You are the one provoking them,” Hans replied only making Henry’s smile wider, which the blond chose to ignore and went back to planning their seating arrangements, for which Henry had given his roommate his phone, just in case there was no seat left next to Henry but next to Hans.

“We are going to be fine,” Henry assured his friend and turned down the volume of his headphones a bit, before giving Hans his phone back. “Look at it this way- in case we get stranded, you don’t have to spend as much time with your relatives.”

Maybe if they got stranded, Henry could avoid the dinner with Radzig.

It was lunch time when they reached the academy, which had been covered in snow in the time they were gone. The white powder lay in a thick layer on the roofs that seemed to bend under the weight.

The other boys were already flooding the dining room when they found themselves back on castle grounds and Henry thought about simply taking his bag with him to lunch.

Hans seemed to have read his thoughts because he offered Henry a hand, at which the brown-haired boy looked confused. What did Hans want now?

“Give me your bag and get something to eat before you stomach starts growling like a bear again.”

“The lordling lowers himself to carry his knight’s belongings?” Henry joked but gave Hans his bag, who shouldered it and stuck out his tongue at him.

“Just save me something before these locusts eat everything, would you?”

“Sure thing, my lord.”

Hans shook his head and turned to leave with the other boys but did not even try to hide his smile.

“Henry!” It was Michael who has spotted him all alone in the hall and came right over to him. “How did the game go?”

“Since when do you care about football?” Henry asked, just as George spotted them too and waved them over to join them in the line.

“Since Olda is going to be pissed at losing,” Michael replied, as they made their way past all the other boys. “And that is always so funny to see. Like an angry hamster.”

“Then I have bad news for you.”

“Oh, come on. You won again?”

Chapter Text

By the time Hans and Henry got back to their room, it was surprisingly warm. Had they forgotten to turn the heating off when they left?

“I turned the heating up when I came up here before,” Hans explained as he watched Henry go over and check the heater. “You don’t like it when it is cold.”

“Nobody likes to freeze,” Henry countered and turned his bag over so all his newly acquired clothes fell onto the bed.

“That is a method of packing I have not seen before,” Hans commented and let himself fall onto his bed, that dangerously creaked beneath him and was probably older than the both of them combined.

“Careful there, my lord. We don’t want you to get hurt before the journey, do we?”

Hans just rolled his eyes at the comment and hugged his pillow close to his chest as he watched Henry refold all his clothes, that he really only stuffed in there in the morning, and carefully place them back in his new bag, together with the other stuff he wanted to bring. Lastly, he pulled out the necklace he bought for Theresa to check that he had not accidentally broken it.

“Is that the present you bought for your girlfriend?” Hans head shot up like a bunny’s when it detected danger.

“What do you…” He had told Hans that he had picked up a gift for a friend, but not for a g…

“Karo told me you went back to the shop to pick something up. I get why you did not want me to pay for it. Would have been a bit weird, but you could have told me, given me the money and I could have picked it up when I went to get Karo. Then you wouldn’t have to walk outside in that weather.”

“It was nice weather,” Henry cut Hans rambling off and put the necklace back in the pocket of his jacket, so Hans did not see it.

Karo.

Henry did not want Hans’ help. Not with this. He did not want his roommate to pick up a present for Theresa when he went out to pick up a girl he was basically just using as an excuse to not have to play the game in the catacombs.

“I like the snow.” Henry got up, grabbed his wash kit and went to the bathroom. “I need to take a shower. I will have no time for it tomorrow.”

The door fell closed behind him and Henry locked it for good measure, before he took a step back from the dark wood that cut him off from the outside world, from a world where time passed and was not stagnant like in this room that looked always the same no matter what season, not matter what time of day. Always warm, golden light, reflecting of the tiles, always smelling slightly damp.

Henry knew what Hans was getting at.

You didn’t know how you were going to react to the snow.

That was why Hans went looking for him. That was why he was so worried when Henry was nowhere to be found.

But he was fine. Snow did not trigger him, like rain did. He was fine.

Henry turned on the shower and took of his clothes while he waited for the water to turn hot.

Am I going to look any different to Theresa when she sees me again? Henry wondered when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror that slowly started to fog up.

He was working out a lot more than he used to and subsequently eating a lot more too, thanks to Olda always being on their arses about that.

We are not here to look shredded; we are here to eat – thanks to Bozhena – good food and kick Trosky’s ass at the tournament and for that we need muscles and to build those we need fuel, so fuck a meal plan and just eat.

Henry definitely looked different. His hair was longer for one.

And Henry definitely felt different too. The Henry Theresa had known back in Skalitz had drowned. That Henry had parents. The Henry he was now only had a biological father he did not want and that was all he had when it came to family.

The only real thing that was left of the old Henry was the cross around his neck and Theresa, but she surely had changed too in the time they had been apart.

Henry had noticed it in their phone calls. She was still Theresa. Always with a plan, always onto the next thing, the next task, the next person to help, but…it was still different.

Would it be strange seeing each other again? Would she still like this version of Henry? Who played football with guys that would never even set foot in Skalitz.

Theresa does not care for that, a small voice in his mind told him.

Henry turned away from the mirror and held a hand beneath the stream of now hot water, stepped into the tub and drew the curtain close.

No. Theresa doesn’t care about that, he thought, she never did.

The next morning at breakfast the whole room was buzzing with excitement. Some boys were already saying goodbye to one another or were frantically searching for one of their friends, before their parents took them away, while Mutt was jumping between them wondering what all the fuss was about and getting snacks left and right.

There was a constant coming and going on the field in front of the school: parents, students, the bus, which had brought some students to the train station already.

“Thank god our train to Prague leaves at eleven,” Olda yawned as they watched a couple of boys run past them on their way to their table, which already looked quite empty.

Ranyek’s parents had already picked him up earlier, same for Kubyenka, and Bohuta, who had been picked up by his brother, and a bunch of the younger boys had taken an earlier train together.

Adder was still asleep according to Janosh, who would travel to Prague with Olda, Henry and Hans, before they would split off to go their separate ways.

“But what if he misses his train?” Hans argued as they sat down, but Janosh just waved him off.

“His parents are driving here to pick him up, but they are late too, so I would assume that is where he got it from,” Janosh explained, before he added, “Don’t inhale your pancakes, Henry.”

“What?” Henry’s voice was muffled by the pancake he had shoved into his mouth and Hans just pushed a glass of orange juice in his direction with a shake of his head.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” the blond scolded him, but Henry just drank his orange juice and ignored his comment, at which Hans just sighed and petted Mutt who had come up to them.

“At least you listen to me, don’t you?” Hans asked the dog and scratched Mutt behind the ears, who nuzzled his face against Hans’ hand.

The train station parking lot was strangely empty when they got out of the bus. Just an almost empty grey square with white lines on the ground and dirty snow piling high on the edges.

“We are not playing football in this weather,” Hans warned Olda as he dragged his suitcase out of the bus and up the stairs to the entrance of the train station, split and slush grinding under his boots.

“I did not plan on it,” Olda defended himself and quickly stuffed the mini football he had been playing around with the whole drive back in bag. “I don’t want to slip and break my neck.”

“That would be truly unfortunate,” Janosh sighed and looked up at the clouds, thick and a dirty white.

“Don’t sound too enthusiastic,” Olda replied and heaved his suitcase up the steps, but Janosh did not seem to be bothered about his comment and just watched the sky as the bus drove past them again, back to the school to pick up the next group of boys, whose parents either lived too far away or could not be bothered to pick them up.

“Looks like it is going to snow soon,” the oldest of the group said and opened the door to the entrance hall, where more people were gathered. “Let’s just hope that the weather is not going to prolong the journey.”

“It is not going to. I refuse to believe it,” Hans replied and followed Janosh while Henry held open the door for him and Olda.

“You are deluding yourself into thinking a fifteen-hour train ride won’t have any hick-ups?” Olda asked as they made their way towards the board that showed the trains that were coming through.

“It is called manifesting, I think, and Henry started it,” Hans replied.

“Just because I stopped you from throwing good pancakes into the fire as a sacrifice…” Henry started but Hans cut him off.

“Oh look, our train is arriving in ten minutes. Better get to the platform.”

It was a stupid divergent, but unfortunately, he was correct.

Henry helped his roommate carry his suitcase to the platform, because of course the lift was not working and Hans had the heaviest suitcase out of all of them.

“What do you have in there?” Henry asked as the train came into the station. “Stones?”

“I am going to push you onto the tracks,” Hans replied dryly, while Janosh and Olda held back a laugh at Henry’s comment.

The loud screeching noise of the train as it came to a hold silenced any further bickering and the boys got on the train with some other people, but no one got off. And just as the first snowflakes started to fall, they found a compartment just to themselves.

“Is he still not awake?” Olda asked and shoved his suitcase into the overhead compartment with Henry’s help, before he sat down next to Janosh to glance at the older boy’s phone.

“That or his parents are keeping him occupied,” Janosh sighed and put his phone away. By the time they had to leave the dining hall for the bus, there was still no trace of Adder, therefore they had not been able to say goodbye or wish him a Happy Christmas.

Janosh had fully believed that Adder would wake up before they left, because even he was so used to waking up at seven that he could not sleep much longer than ten, but apparently he had been wrong and the last time he would see his roommate this year was him drooling on his pillow when Janosh dragged his suitcase into the entrance hall, where all the other suitcases were being collected.

“He will call eventually,” Hans tried to cheer Janosh up, who just sighed, crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned his head against the window.

Olda, Hans and Henry shared a knowing look.

Everyone in the team had noticed that things were strange between Janosh and Adder, but Henry doubted that anybody else knew what had gone down between them.

You know what they say- never kiss your best friend.

If others knew…the Devil would surely would have said something to Adder, Henry thought and turned his cross between his fingers. Surely.

It was supposed to be a joke.

Henry doubted that even Kubyenka could laugh about that.

Doesn’t feel like one now.

If Zizka knew he would just lock them in a room together until they talked about it, like he did with Hans and Henry, even if the situations were not remotely comparable.

“Janosh…” Olda began, but Henry shot him a warning look. “What is up with you and Adder?”

“Can we not talk about it?” Janosh sighed and watched the frozen fields pass by. He sounded so defeated that Olda and Hans were taken it back for a second.

Instead of pushing further, for “the teams sake and we have to work together” and what not, Olda wrapped an arm around Janosh, who just melted against his shoulder like a puddle of misery.

“Do you want us to beat him up?” Olda asked and carefully pushed a black curly behind Janosh’s ear who let out a half-chuckle half-sob.

“I don’t hate him that much,” Janosh replied and declined the tissue Hans offered him with a weak shake of his head.

“We could totally do it though,” Olda said and Janosh’s chuckle sounded a bit less sad.

“I appreciate it.”

Henry watched his friend press his palms against his eyes and draw in a deep breath to calm himself down, before sitting up straight again and shrugging off Olda, who drew back carefully.

“Just ignore me. I am being dramatic.” Janosh tied his hair back with shaky hands. “It is Christmas. Let’s talk about something else. Does anyone have a card game? I would kill for a good round of cards right now.”

“I have one,” Olda said immediately, shot up and began digging though his bag.

Henry watched him only to not have to look at Hans, whose gaze had never left him, since Olda had brought up Adder and Janosh had shut down any and all questions about him.

“Here we go.” Olda threw Janosh the pack of cards, who took them out of the carton and started shuffling and giving them out.

Eventually Henry could not ignore Hans’ stare anymore and caught his eyes that were sharp.

“You know something,” they seemed to be saying. “And you are not telling me.”

“Later,” Henry tried to say back without words and Hans turned to the game, having seemingly understood.

“You know something.”

They were making their way through the sea of people that had taking over the Prague train station.

They had bid the other boys goodbye at the platform and were now on the way to the one their train would leave from. Janosh had looked a little better, even if Adder had still not reached out to any of them and Olda’s usual cheerfulness was a bit dampened by whole thing, but he was still Olda at the end of the day.

“Don’t forget to do the exercises that I wrote down for you!” was the last thing he had yelled after them, as they had gotten onto the lift.

“I do, but I don’t think it is my place to tell,” Henry replied and dodged a guy carrying one backpack on his back and another on his front.

“Fair,” Hans admitted and hurried along. “But I won’t tell anyone. Pinky promise.”

Henry shot him a sceptical look and checked on the switch board where their train would leave from.

The train to “Berlin Südkreuz” was leaving from platform three. Henry grabbed Hans’ wrist and dragged him in the right direction, holding onto him, so he would not lose the blond in the chaos. His blood was rushing hot under Henry’s fingers.

“I swear,” Hans assured him and did not complain about Henry dragging him along. “I just want to know why we are beating Adder up next time we see him.”

“We are not beating him up,” Henry insisted, even if he wanted to after seeing Janosh being so miserable.

“I want to know why we are icing him out them.” They had reached the lift and Henry let go of Hans’ wrist to help him with his suitcase, already missing the warmth of his skin beneath his fingertips. It was a really cold day.

“You really promise not to tell anyone?” Henry insisted as they got off the lift and walked down the platform to find their carriage.

“I swear on my camera.” Hans put one hand on his heart and held the other in the air, before he took a hold of his suitcase again.

Hans loved his camera.

“Ok,” Henry gave in just as they reached their carriage. “But first we find out seats and put your suitcase away.”

“Aye, aye, Capitan,” Hans replied and heaved his suitcase into the train with Henry’s help.

“Are you sure that there are no stones in there?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“So…” Hans took of his scarf and hanged it to his coat on the hook that was on the side of the seat in front of him, before he turned to Henry, who had also shrugged of his jacket and was just astonished that Hans had let him sit down before bringing the topic up again.

“What the fuck happened there, that Janosh looks like a kicked puppy and you are making such a big secret out of it?”

“They kissed,” Henry said simply and watched as Hans’ eyes became wide. “At the bonfire after we came back from Trosky. I think. Janosh told me at the party. I don’t think he remembers that he did, so keep your mouth shut.”

“I will. I will,” Hans assured him but his eyes had turned distant, like he was deep in thought.

“Apparently it was supposed to be a joke,” Henry explained further. Maybe Hans could help him fix this, because he – for sure – had no idea how to do it.

“But it didn’t feel like one, I assume,” Hans murmured, before he snapped back into reality and turned to Henry, who nodded.

“That is what Janosh said – I don’t know all the details – but at the party Adder was very openly flirting with a guy that…”

“…looked like Janosh?”

“Kind of.”

“Oh, fuck off. What a coward.”

That was not the reaction Henry had expected. Hans seemed…really pissed for some reason.

“If Janosh doesn’t kill him, I will,” Hans proclaimed, crossed his arms in front of his chest and sank deep into his seat while staring at the seat in front of him like it was a battle map.

“I don’t think he did it on purpose,” Henry tried to save Adder’s arse from the wrath of the angry blond.

“If he liked him, then he should just tell him and not play games. That is only going to hurt both of them more,” Hans sighed and turned to Henry. “Looks like we have to save these idiots from themselves.”