Summary: Fifth year wasn't all about OWLs. With the explosive excitement of the Triwizard Tournament, the awe-inspiring invasion of the foreign students, and the upcoming Yule Ball, even for Ravenclaws study had become almost secondarily important.
Yuuri was far from removed from such fascination. Even he couldn't deny that the foreign students interested him - and maybe one student just a little more than the others.
Rating: T
Tags: Yuuri Katsuki/Viktor Nikiforov, Harry Potter Crossover, Canon Era, Fifth Year, Crushes, Pining, Language Barrier, Misunderstanding, References to Past Bullying, Shyness, Dancing, Ice Skating
Zephyr To Mороz
Chapter 1: A Cold
The cold chased Yuuri as he stumbled through the heavy front doors of Hogwarts castle and into the Entrance Hall. Winter was rapidly encroaching, and the nipping teeth of frost and snow that had enveloped the grounds strained its utmost to cling to his shoulders, to tear at his scarf from his neck and wrap frozen fingers around his boots in a mournful attempt to keep him in its chilling embrace. Yuuri would almost have been inclined to let it –
But it was cold. Almost too cold, and despite his fondness for the frozen depths of winter, it was blessedly satisfying to be free of its grasp. Yuuri shivered into his overcoat, leaning heavily upon the closed double doors for a moment before straightening. Warmth had never been to his taste, but the mellow heat thrumming from the stonewalls, as though radiating from the torches illuminating the hall itself, was more than a little appreciated.
Except that, outside, the wind continued to howl. To some, perhaps it would have been a wail of frustration, an indignant demand for entry through the thick wooden doors of the castle. To Yuuri, however, it sounded nothing short of mournful.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled into his scarf, "but it's already way too dark for me to be outside any longer."
The wind raked insubstantial fingers down the door at his back. Pleading and demanding sounded very similar to the untrained ear.
"Maybe tomorrow," Yuuri said, half turning to glance towards the door as though seeing through it. "I'll come out again maybe tomorrow."
Some people thought he was strange. Many people, for that matter, and not only for the fact that he went outside and lost himself wandering the grounds in the depths of winter as though he didn't feel the cold. He did, of course, but any discomfort was of secondary importance when compared to the blissful feeling of the wind caressing his cheeks, the ice flooding his lungs with every breath, and the weightlessness that accompanied being buffeted by that very wind and nearly lifting him off his feet.
Many people thought Yuuri was strange – but at least their consideration was only for his wandering. He'd learnt long ago that 'talking to the wind' was far from considered an acceptable habit. Even if the wind did sometimes reply.
Sighing, Yuuri straightened from his slump and, scrubbing his gloved hands together, left the mournful wind and started towards the open doors of the Great Hall. The sounds of dinner and conversation, merrymaking and explosions of jovial arguments, echoed from within alongside the rich scent of spices and closely packed bodies.
It was late. Later than Yuuri had realised, even, distracted as he'd been. It was only when he'd opened his eyes after a particularly long bound of mindless, blind walking that he'd even realised night had fallen.
The Great Hall was thickly crowded when Yuuri stepped inside. All four tables were crammed with platters, groaning beneath heavy dishes that steamed in vaporous fumes as though they'd just been pulled from the oven. The benches were all but sagging beneath their diners, and the head table was dotted with most of the professors in watchful attendance.
Ducking his head, Yuuri slipped down the central aisle. No one seemed to notice him, which was a blessing. Not that anything untoward was likely to happen should he be noticed, but Yuuri had long ago learnt that, for people such as himself that were considered 'a little strange', it was better to avoid being noticed. Ravenclaw had its fair share of quirky housemates, but outside of Ravenclaw Tower and its common room, students were usually far less accepting of such strangeness.
Though Yuuri hadn't really been bullied in years, it was always best to prepare for the worst and avoid where possible.
Unfortunately for him, there were certain members of the student body who seemed to sense his presence as one would a magnet drawn to a lodestone. And like just such a magnet, such attention was upon him barely seconds after he'd entered the Great Hall.
"Yuuri! Where have you been? I didn't see you –"
Yuuko's words abruptly silenced as she crashed into him. Yuuri reeled and almost tumbled to the floor. Though a slight girl, Yuuko more than made up for her diminutive size with sheer enthusiasm. Mostly through her voice, for that matter; Yuuko had been born with an impressively dextrous tongue that was made no less impressive for the fact that her voice remained almost incessantly hushed.
Yuuri's breath was knocked out of him for the force of her collision. Why Yuuko felt the need to crush him in an embrace every time they were separated for more than a few hours at a time he would never understand, but he despite his stumble, he appreciated it. Friends – true friends that withstood distance, time, and the segregation of houses – were invaluable. Every piece of them.
Or almost every piece.
"Yuuko, I can't breathe," Yuuri managed, attempting to extricate himself from her graso. He nearly tripped into a boy at the Hufflepuff table beside him in his attempt and spared the younger student an apologetic smile that was all but ignored.
Yuuko ignored his protests too, seeming to squeeze him only tighter. "You're frozen, Yuuri," she said, reprimand sharpening her words.
"I'm fine," he replied.
"No, no, you're far too cold. Haven't you ever heard of a Warming Charm?"
Of course Yuuri had, but he'd never been partial to using them. It wasn't that he disliked being warm but the refreshing starkness of the cold was… Well, nothing really beat that.
Twisting so that he faced her instead of simply being the subject of her hug, Yuuri struggled to pry Yuuko off of him. "I'm fine. It's not that cold."
Yuuko pursed her lips slightly, regarding him shrewdly. "You were outside, weren't you?"
"Is that even a question?"
Her lips pursed further. "It's practically a blizzard outside, Yuuri."
"It's not –"
"And it's night time."
"It wasn't when I first went –"
"And you should have been studying. With me." Yuuko's pursed lips had descended into a full pout. "How am I supposed to pass my Charms OWLs if my tutor keeps abandoning me to freeze himself in the snow?"
Dropping his chin, Yuuri ceded to Yuuko's chiding despite the urge to smile that welled within him. Though she might complain, Yuuko was far from struggling with her Charms work. Yuuri wasn't so oblivious of his situation that he didn't know at least half of the reason for her committed company. It went beyond the mere fact that Yuuko was the kind of person that rained adoration upon her friends.
"You don't need to mother me, you know," Yuuri said. "I'm sure when okaa-san asked us to keep an eye out for one another she didn't mean –"
"Oh, she meant it," Yuuko interrupted him again, finally releasing Yuuri from her hold. "She really, truly did. And since Mari doesn't seem to care that you're heading towards frostbite the way you're going, I've got to step up my game."
Yuuri allowed his smile to spread. Yuuko was exaggerating, and she likely knew it. Not only about the frostbite – something that had only nearly happened the once and that Yuuri was more than aware enough to avoid these days – but about his mother's persistence. Yuuri's mother was about as mellow as they came; if anyone was accepting of Yuuri's quirks – or 'responsible' for them, as some tried to blame – it was her.
Leaving the truth lie, however, Yuuri only shrugged. He spared a glance around himself, if only to be sure that their exchange was passing relatively unnoticed, before replying. "Mari doesn't not care. She just has her plate full."
Yuuko harrumphed. "Still."
"She's a prefect."
"Still."
"And not even of my own house, so –"
"Still, Yuuri, that's no excuse. And besides," and Yuuko tipped her nose into the air, "if your onee-san isn't going to tell you to stop acting like a fool and Minako's too busy to notice then someone has to."
Without another word, Yuuko grabbed Yuuri's hand spun on her heel. She had no qualms about proceeding to drag Yuuri along the Hufflepuff table, back the way he'd come, to skirt around the other side. Yuuri couldn't really protest; many though Yuuko was a subdued kind of person, rarely one to scold or demand, but those people likely didn't speak a lick of Japanese. It hadn't escaped Yuuri's notice that whenever Yuuko chided him, it was always in Japanese. It probably helped that they were two of only a handful of Japanese-speaking students in the entire school.
"You know, I should probably make an appearance at the Ravenclaw table before sitting with you," Yuuri pointed out rationally.
"Don't be ridiculous," Yuuko said, abandoning English once more. Turning towards Yuuri, she herded him towards the narrow stretch of bench at the Hufflepuff table. "Everyone knows you sit with us as much as your own house."
"That's not a very good show of house loyalty," he muttered.
"On the contrary, I think it's a very good show," Yuuko said, flashing him a smile as her indignation visibly faded.
"To the wrong house, though."
"Or the right house."
"Yuuko, please let's not have this discussion again –"
"I will always believe that you should have been sorted into Hufflepuff, Yuuri," Yuuko said, raising her voice over his protests. "Always. I mean, everyone in your family was a Hufflepuff, and it doesn't matter if you're wonderful at Charms, you should have been sorted with us so…"
Yuuri bit back a sigh as Yuuko continued with her familiar tirade. Or what was a tirade to his ears and few others; with her quiet voice and deliberate abandonment of English, she likely seemed to be merely chatting amiably to him. Yuuko was deceptive like that.
Instead, Yuuri seated himself where he'd been directed. He spared a glance towards the hulk of a boy at his side before reaching for the nearest bowl of baked potatoes. "Hi, Takashi."
Takashi, Yuuko's boyfriend and once Yuuri-hater until he'd realised that Yuuri would never see Yuuko in a romantic light, smiled through a mouthful of his own dinner. "Hi, Yuuri," he said, his word barely intelligible. "You're late."
Yuuri shrugged. "Not on purpose. I just lost track of time."
Takashi made a firm effort to swallow his mouthful before continuing. "That's not really surprising for you."
"Not really."
"You should set an alarm or something on your wand. Like me. I always have an alarm for when dinner's set –"
"Are you both intentionally ignoring me?" Yuuko asked, wriggling into the non-existent space between Yuuri and Takashi.
"Of course not," Yuuri said at the same time Takashi grinned and admitted, "Maybe just a little bit."
Yuuko scowled, an expression that held about as much heat as the mellow warmth of Hufflepuff's Basement. Or so Yuuri had heard; he'd been bequeathed with more than his fair share of tales of the Basement throughout his childhood and then more rigorously in his teenage years when it was discovered that he would never set foot inside its walls. Apparently Hufflepuff had a rule for that.
"Traitors," Yuuko muttered. "The both of you."
For all of her disgruntlement, however, she subsided quickly enough. In bare moments, she was chattering at a rapid pace once more, past her scolding of Yuuri and Takashi both for different reasons and onto more practical matters.
Yuuri picked at his dinner as he listened. He didn't bother sparing a glance for the rest of the Hufflepuff table. None of them would care that he, in his blue and bronze tie and Ravenclaw status, was like a black sheep amongst the their white. Any horror for his presence had long ago faded alongside the rest of the bullying for his 'strange ways'. It helped that his older sister Mari was a prefect of Hufflepuff; whether for fear or respect, most of the House seemed to consider it more to their benefit to simply allow Yuuri amongst them on frequent occasion.
The Great Hall was a sea of noise and warmth, of good-humour, curiosity, and the world-weariness of students at the end of their day facing the prospect of further tutelage the following morning. The school year itself was more than on its way to winding down, standing on verge of the holidays, even, and the flavour of Christmas was drifting into the air. Already, evidence of the expected décor was gradually assembling itself throughout the Great Hall and beyond. It was always a gradual process, Yuuri had discovered over his five years in attendance. Gradual, yet somehow sudden, too, for the appearance of wreaths and snow would be absent one day and then in excess the next.
Glancing around the room, Yuuri noticed that, since lunchtime, another Christmas tree had been added to the Great Hall, making three in total. There would be more, he knew, just as he knew the number of Christmas pixies flitting around them, the density of artfully shaped snowflakes falling from the sky, the twinkle of fairy lights and the boxes – some as big as small beds – placed haphazardly throughout the hall would similarly increase. And that was to say nothing of the icicles that seemed to grow like living entities from every balustrade throughout the castle.
They weren't cold, those icicles, but Yuuri liked the effect. Anything that reminded him of winter was favourable in his opinion.
He'd oftentimes wondered if the degree of decoration continued to mount up until Christmas Day itself. Like many of the students of Hogwarts, Yuuri had never stayed over the break before, always returning home for the holiday and so never witnessing it for himself. That was one thing, he supposed; one benefit to that year that he hadn't undertaken before. Yuuri wasn't entirely decided as to whether he would be remaining at Hogwarts for the Christmas holiday as many of the students had abruptly decided to, but…
"Sprout has organised another dance lesson for everyone, did you know?" Yuuko said, breaking into his thoughts.
A glance towards her found that she was looking to him as much as to Takashi. Yuuri blinked at her for a moment before dropping his attention to his plate. He chased a pea for a moment, feeling Yuuko's expectant regard; she'd likely given up on Takashi agreeing to accompany her to dance lessons after the first dozen times.
"O…kay," Yuuri said slowly.
"Okay?" Yuuko mimicked just as slowly. "So you'll come with me?"
"Ravenclaw has their own practice lessons, Yuuko. I think I'm supposed to attend those ones."
Yuuko flapped a hand at him. "You don't need to go to them. You can already dance."
"Then why would I need to come to yours?"
"For my sake, of course."
Yuuri regarded her sidelong. "You can dance too, though. I'm not so forgetful that I can't remember who took dancing lessons with me as a kid."
Yuuko grinned. "Precisely. So you can come and help out everyone else who needs to practice their dancing."
"Yuuko's taken to teaching everyone else who wants to learn," Takashi said, leaning around her to offer Yuuri an indulgent smile. That indulgence was all for Yuuko, Yuuri had no doubt. "She's a natural-born teacher."
"I'm not that good," Yuuko said, though her delight for the compliment was more than apparent in her own widely spreading smile.
"You really are," Takashi said, leaning into her to plant a kiss on her cheek. "Everyone thinks so."
"Not everyone, surely."
"Just about everyone. It's no secret that Sprout's organised the lessons around your schedule."
Yuuko giggled before proceeding to describe to Takashi just what she had planned for the upcoming lesson. For the moment, at least, Yuuri was safe from her demands.
He propped an elbow on the table, idly chasing another pea around his plate with less interest than he watched the Great Hall around him. Some of the professors were departing, and a horde of first years seemed to have chosen that moment to rise from the Gryffindor table and take their leave. But the hall itself was still packed, and far more packed than it usually was at such an hour. The reason for that lay in the peppering of foreign students at the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables.
The Beauxbatons students.
The Durmstrang students.
The light blue of the Beauxbatons silken uniforms, even shrouded in heavy cloaks to stave of the chill that they reputedly felt for the 'horrible difference in temperature to the Pyrenees' that was their Academy's locale, stood out like glowing swans amidst ducklings. Yuuri hadn't had much to do with the Beauxbatons students, despite the fact that they seemed to have taken to the Ravenclaws well enough. He'd never spent all that much time at the Ravenclaw table, anyway.
As similarly prominent – or even more so – were the Durmstrang students far across the hall at the Slytherin table. They stood out vibrantly in their blood-red robes, not muffled in the slightest by the woolly capes that they'd worn so dashingly upon arrival at Hogwarts weeks before. In contrast to the Beauxbatons students, those of Durmstrang seemed to find the Scottish winter almost mild by comparison to their own climes.
Yuuri had even less to do with them. He could only admire from afar – which he happened to spent quite a bit of time doing.
Since the announcement of the Triwizard Tournament, Hogwarts had been tipped on its head, and that was even before the other two schools had arrived on the grounds. Yuuri had been excited, because who wouldn't be for something so new and wondrous? But that excitement had faded almost immediately with both his discovery that, as a fifth year, he would be unable to participate, but that the Tournament itself was far from as heroically exciting as the stories and pining words of his fellow students believed it to be.
If anything, Yuuri thought it all sounded a little scary. Scary, but more than that, irrelevant. What was the point of participating in such a tournament and risking life and limb? For the fortune? For the fame? Yuuri's family wasn't particularly wealthy, but they were far from destitute. What need did he have of fortune? And fame was hardly something he considered appealing; limelight had never been an objective of his. To do his best, certainly, and to be recognised for excellent performance even more so, but fame? Heroic fame?
Yuuri wasn't a hero, and he certainly wasn't brave. Unlike the rest of his fellow fifth year Ravenclaws, he hadn't spent nights sighing aloud in the dormitory about how wonderful it would have been to participate in the tournament. When the champions were selected – and selected in a somewhat unorthodox and unexpected manner at that – there was little any other student could do by way of involvement.
Yuuri almost felt sorry for Cedric Diggory being selected. For Harry Potter, too, even if most of the school still thought he was something of a cheating bastard who'd somehow slithered his way into the competition. Yuuri didn't really care. He'd never had all that much to do with Harry Potter, nor any other underclassman for that matter.
But that holiday… For the first time in weeks, the tournament and its proceedings was taking a turn for the holistic involvement of school and students. Yuuri still wasn't sure how he felt about that, even if the majority of his classmates – Yuuko included – seemed to think the Yule Ball was utterly wonderful.
"… that many don't know their left from their right foot, but we can fix that. Right, Yuuri?"
Yuuri dragged his gaze from listless staring at the Slytherin table towards Yuuko once more. "Hm?"
She'd shunted her plate aside and propped her elbows on the table, chin dropping into her raised hands. She blinked at him with wide, guileless eyes, and Yuuri knew immediately what would follow. Just as he knew that there was no way he would really be able to deny her anything.
"Please," Yuuko asked, and though there was a slight whine to her words, her hopefulness and plea was genuine. Yuuko might be persistent at times, but her heart was always in the right place. She was a kind person beneath all of her candour. "I could really use your help with the lessons. I can't give demonstrations nearly so well without an actual dancing partner, and Takashi won't do."
"Hey," Takashi objected, though without any heat. He wasn't an appalling dancer, but he had neither the skill nor the inclination to pursue it with any sincerity. For Yuuko, he might bend his neck, but it would be reluctantly.
"Please?" Yuuko repeated, not even sparing Takashi a glance. "Sprout would be ever-so grateful."
Yuuri bit his lip. He would be blatantly lying if he said he didn't enjoy dancing, even when his formal lessons had been finished for the year, but… "Are you sure Sprout even wants me there?" he asked.
Yuuko abruptly beamed. She must have known at that moment that she'd already won. "Of course!"
"And the other Hufflepuffs?"
"You're practically a Hufflepuff, Yuuri."
Yuuri gnawed at his lip, gaze dropping to his plate. "Except for the fact that I'm not. Ravenclaw might think I'm traitorous for teaching Hufflepuffs instead of them."
"It's not really a competition, is it?" Takashi asked distractedly. He seemed far more interested in ladling up a clean bowl with steaming pudding.
"It's not at all!" Yuuko said. She sounded horrified for the thought. "Why, maybe we could even have a group of students from all houses come along, do you think?"
"All houses?" Yuuri asked. He frowned. "That could be messy."
"There's nothing wrong with –"
"Having Gryffindors and Slytherins in the same room might be a little difficult," he pointed out.
Yuuko stuttered to a momentary stop, and then she was frowning too. Only for it to clear a moment later. "Alright, then. How about just Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws? That would make your housemates happy, don't you think, Yuuri?"
"Just Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws?" Yuuri echoed.
The hint of a smile touched Yuuko's lips. "And a certain Gryffindor, if you must."
"Phichit wouldn't ever forgive me if I didn't ask him along," Yuuri said, nodding solemnly.
"Why, I'll never know," Yuuko said with a shake of her head. "He's perfectly adept at dancing himself."
"Maybe that's why?" Yuuri suggested. "He'd likely take it as an insult that we didn't ask him to join us."
Yuuko giggled. "Probably."
Dinner finished with Yuuko's rapid departure, hastening to the head table before she'd even half finished her own pudding. She appeared intent upon waylaying Sprout, and Sprout seemed only too accepting of that fact.
Far too accepting, for that. Professor Sprout was the ultimate Hufflepuff.
"Well, I should probably go with her," Takashi said, scooping a final bite of pudding into his mouth before rising. He wasn't alone; several other Hufflepuffs were similarly finishing their meals, though evidently making for the doors rather than an overly enthusiastic girlfriend. "Thanks for this, Yuuri."
"Why are you thanking me?" Yuuri asked, rising alongside him. "It's Yuuko I'm helping."
Takashi shrugged. "Yuuko being happy makes me happy," he said simply, and to Takashi, it likely was that simple. He doted upon Yuuko as few other people Yuuri knew seemed capable of doing for their partners.
Yuuri spared him a parting wave, a 'regretful' decline at his offer to accompany him to the head table, before starting from the Great Hall as well. He shrugged off his scarf as he did so, pausing outside the door to tuck it inside his pocket alongside his gloves. The mellow warmth of the room was too stifling for indoors.
It was because of his momentary pause that Yuuri found himself attacked by a wayward Gryffindor.
The weight of a colliding body crashing into his back nearly took him from his feet. Why such collisions seemed to happen to him so often was a mystery; first Yuuko and now this? Not that Yuuri begrudged it, but he was sorely questioning his balancing skills in that he'd nearly fallen on his face twice in the space of barely an hour.
"Yuuri!" was all but bellowed into his ear. "What was Yuuko talking to Sprout about? She looked very excited. Is it exciting? Do you know? Can you tell me?"
Straightening as the weight lifted from his shoulders – though it was immediately replaced by an arm slung loosely around them instead – Yuuri turned with a smile towards his second closest friend. "I'm sure she'd be more than happy to regale you with what's going on if you asked her, Phichit."
Phichit grinned. He was a vibrant person, always happy, always smiling, and despite the darkness of his eyes they always seemed to glow brightly with good humour. That humour was infectious; it was one of the reasons Yuuri had been so drawn to him in the first place. Few enough people at their dancing school were quite so enthusiastic as Yuuko, Phichit, and Yuuri himself in the first days of their childhood exploration. That they three had been sorted into three different houses had done little to distance them or dwindle their friendship – especially when summer resurfaced and found them at the studio once more.
A cluster of Gryffindors had paused a handful of steps from where Yuuri and Phichit stood and, when Yuuri tipped his head to them in acknowledgement, Phichit spared a moment to bid them farewell. "I'll follow you up in a bit," he said, and his Gryffindor friends shrugged and nodded their understanding. For whatever reason, despite interhouse competitiveness, Yuuri and his friends had never been cause of disapproval.
Phichit turned to Yuuri a moment later. "So, are you going to tell me?"
"About Yuuko?" Yuuri asked, glancing sidelong as a trio of Durmstrang students spilled from the Great Hall. He followed their passage as they crossed the Entrance Hall to the exiting double doors and, in a blast of chilling air, disappeared outside. It was a testament to just how hardy the Scandinavian students were that none of the three so much as flinched as the abusive blast.
"Oh, I'm assuming she was talking to her about dancing lessons or something," Phichit said, and as Yuuri glanced back towards him in surprise, his grin widened. "She's been on cloud nine about the Yule Ball since it was announced, hasn't she?"
Yuuri felt his own smile widen. It was true, after all. "Sprout's asked her to help with some of the lessons."
"Sprout asked her, or she asked Sprout?"
"Probably a bit of both."
Phichit laughed. It was a belly laugh, his whole body shaking with it. "Typical Yuuko," he said. "But that wasn't what I was talking about, actually."
Yuuri raised an eyebrow to him questioningly. "What are you talking about, then?"
Phichit paused before replying, edging them further from the doors into the Great Hall. Apparently, some unspoken call for departure had been sounded, for first exited a bundle of Ravenclaws, then Slytherins, then a lone Hufflepuff and another Ravenclaw. Phichit continued when the sounds of the Ravenclaws overloud debating had faded. "I mean, you were out really late tonight."
Yuuri frowned. He was certainly wearing the reprimands that night. "It wasn't that late."
"It was after dark."
"Dark happens earlier at the moment. That's not saying all that much."
"Still, it was definitely later than usual." Phichit raised his eyebrows pointedly. "Did you lose yourself to the snow again?"
Yuuri shrugged, if a little self-deprecatingly. Phichit was one of the few people who truly knew why he loved his winter wandering. Or part of the reason, anyway. Even so, it was just a little embarrassing to be faced with the fond exasperation of his friends.
"Maybe just a little," he muttered.
Phichit chuckled. "Typical."
"Hey."
'"I'm not saying it's a bad thing – unless you get your fingers frozen off, that is. Although," he paused, raising the hand not still looped around Yuuri's neck to his own chin, "it could be a sight to see you trying to hold your wand."
"You're a sadist," Yuuri said, and Phichit laughed. Yuuri joined him a moment later. They both knew his words to be the absolute opposite of reality. Few people were as genuinely and consistently bright and kind as Phichit was.
"I only do what I'm told, actually," Phichit continued a moment later. "Yuuko asked me –"
"She didn't," Yuuri said with a sigh.
Phichit's grin spread widely once more. "She did. Honestly, I sometimes think she considers herself more your big sister than Mari is."
Yuuri nodded resignedly. He knew the truth of that only too well. "You don't have to keep an eye out for me, you know. I'm more than capable of taking care of myself."
"Except for that one time –"
"We don't need to bring up that 'one time'," Yuuri hastened to override him. Phichit laughed again, but blessedly didn't continue. Certain stories of accidental wanderings and near abductions were better left unsaid, in Yuuri's opinion. "Really, it's fine. I just lost track of time."
Phichit jostled him slightly in his one-armed hug. "Off with the fairies?"
"Merlin, no," Yuuri said with a shudder that wasn't entirely feigned. "I'm never going to accidentally do that again."
"How are the winter winds doing, then? Any new gossip they can give me?"
Yuuri plucked idly at Phichit's fingers where they hung over his shoulder. "There's no need to make fun of me, you know."
"I'm not making fun of you," Phichit said. "I never do."
"Except for that one time –"
"That was once!" Phichit interrupted. This time, when he jostled Yuuri, it was to drag him into a squeezing one-armed embrace more tightly. "I said I wouldn't tease you again after that first time, didn't I?"
"Phichit –"
"Didn't I?"
"You don't have to –"
"Didn't I?"
Sighing – or struggling to sigh through Phichit's excessive embrace – Yuuri nodded. It was true that most of the bullying had faded into obscurity in the past few years, but 'teasing' was still something of a sensitive topic. Especially in Ravenclaw; genuine scepticism was often masked by such 'teasing'.
But not from Phichit. Or Yuuko. Or Takashi, or the few other people at Hogwarts that Yuuri truly felt comfortable in the company of. The touch of warmth – not a discomforting warmth but something pure and wonderful that welled within him – was more than enough to stave off any melancholy for that modified bullying. Phichit wouldn't tease him. Not really. Not since he'd discovered that Yuuri's conversations with the wind was less imaginary and more simply magical.
"Yeah, I know," Yuuri said quietly, and Phichit finally stopped his demanding jostles.
"Don't you forget it," he said just as quietly.
"I won't."
"Ever."
"Yeah, yeah."
Phichit nodded and finally dropped his arm from Yuuri's shoulders. "Okay. Well, now that's sorted – are you heading up to Ravenclaw Tower?"
Yuuri caught his lip between his teeth and hummed neutrally. Then he shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I'll probably just go down to the library to do our Potions homework."
"Do you want some company?"
Raising an eyebrow, Yuuri fought the urge to smirk. "You actually want to do homework?"
Phichit poked his shoulder. "Hey, I'm not a slacker. I just –"
"Really don't like Potions?" Yuuri supplied.
Phichit grunted. "Well, you can't really blame me. No Gryffindor really does. Snape doesn't like any of us."
Yuuri nodded sympathetically. How anyone could dislike someone like Phichit was a mystery to him, but it was common knowledge that Snape disliked Gryffindors. All Gryffindors, with no exception. It was an injustice seen and acknowledged yet for whatever reason overlooked by the staff body.
"Do you need some help?" Yuuri offered.
"You're not that great at Potions," Phichit said with a regretful sigh.
"I know, but neither are you."
"So two half-decent brains –"
"- should make for a whole one?" Yuuri finished. They shared a smile. "That could work. But weren't you going back up to Gryffindor Tower with your friends?"
Phichit shrugged as, turning towards the eastern corridor, he started for the library. Yuuri followed after him, hitching his all-but-forgotten book bag more comfortably onto his shoulder. "They won't mind. Especially if they can copy my Potions homework."
"They probably shouldn't copy you," Yuuri said slowly. "That's not going to help them in our OWLs."
"Yuuri," Phichit said, glancing towards him with his eyebrows rising pointedly once more. "Just because Ravenclaws put unnecessary emphasis upon completing homework independently –"
"That's only for fifth years and up," Yuuri said.
"- doesn't mean that every other house has to," Phichit continued over him without slowing. "And besides, what're the odds that an in-depth study of the properties of Wandering Shrub roots is going to be in our exams?"
"They could be…"
Phichit laughed. Not in a teasing manner – for he likely meant and intended to stand by his prior words – but with true amusement. Such was Phichit's way. "You're hilarious."
"Thank you," Yuuri said with a slight roll of his eyes. "And you'll thank me if you're prepared for when the time comes."
"Undoubtedly," Phichit said with a sharp nod and utter sincerity. "But it's nearly the holidays, and there's Christmas and the Yule Ball coming up, so in my opinion, it can take a back seat for a while."
Taking a turn and beginning the climb towards the third floor and library beyond, Yuuri clicked his tongue in exasperation for his forgetfulness. "I meant to ask you, by the way. From Yuuko."
"About the dancing lessons?" Phichit asked, glancing over his shoulder.
Yuuri nodded. "She asked if you wanted to come. It'll just be Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, I think. And you, if you wanted to."
"So I'll be the lone lion in the bit of badgers and crows?" Phichit asked, turning to trot backwards up the stairs. He nodded to a portrait as they shook their head at him and muttered something about 'silliness that'll have him tripping over his own feet'. Phichit either didn't hear the words or didn't care that they were spoken at all.
"Ravens, actually," Yuuri corrected. "And yes, if you want to. But only if you want to."
"And have the chance to take some embarrassing pictures of people tripping over their own feet?" Phichit grinned widely. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."
How he managed to admit his inclination towards such things without seeming entirely cruel, Yuuri doubted he would ever understand. Phichit was glued to his camera most of the time, and it was a surprise that he didn't have his polaroid in hand even at that moment – though Yuuri would be stunned if it wasn't even then tucked in his bag. Phichit even helped his Gryffindor underclassman – Creevey, Yuuri thought his name was – though while Phichit snapped and crafted works of photographic art, Creevey seemed instead simply intent upon capturing in photograph every passing minute he happened across. Much of those with Harry Potter in them too, if gossip was to be believed. In general, Yuuri did believe it when it came from Phichit.
"You'll be helping with the teaching, though," Yuuri said. "If you come, you have to at least help a little bit."
"Is that desperation I hear in your voice?" Phichit said, flashing his toothy grin.
Yuuri pulled a face. "I'm not a good teacher."
"So?"
"Everyone knows that."
"And?"
"Even Yuuko knows that."
Phichit paused at the top of the stairwell to allow Yuuri to draw alongside him. "Yeah, but you can dance. That's the most important part. Besides, it's exciting, isn't it? Gets your blood pumped for the Yule Ball?"
Yuuri shrugged nonchalantly. The Yule Ball… while exciting in its novelty and the possibility of actually dancing outside of the half-hearted attempts at cohesive club events throughout the school year, the ball itself wasn't all that enticing. Especially not if…
"Have you asked anyone yet?" Yuuri asked.
Phichit drew his gaze sidelong thoughtfully. "No. Or at least not yet. I was thinking of asking one of the Beauxbatons girls who seemed keen enough when I spoke to her yesterday – Madamoiselle Crisp-something-or-other, I think her name was – but I haven't really had the chance to, yet. You?"
Yuuri dropped his gaze to his shoes as they approached the double doors of the library. They weren't quite the distraction from upon Phichit's question, but it was better than thinking on it too deeply. "I don't really know why everyone's so excited about this Ball," he muttered.
Phichit hummed with a curious lilt. "Yuuri? Is there someone you're going to ask?"
Yuuri chewed on his lip. It was that or risk blurting out all of his worries and longings. His fears, even. That he did want to ask someone in particular, but that the someone he desperately wished to would definitely turn him down, so there was no way he could possibly attempt it.
He shook his head. "No. I'm not asking anyone."
Phichit was silent for a moment, and Yuuri wondered what expression he wore; he couldn't bring himself to glance towards his friend to discern it. When Phichit spoke, it was in a quiet, contemplative tone. "Well, that's a shame. I'm sure there'd be a whole heap of people who'd go with you if you gave them the chance."
Yuuri wasn't so sure about that, but he didn't object. He didn't need Phichit's pity. Instead, he simply followed as Phichit led the way into the cavernous library, sweet-talking Madam Pince as they passed her desk, and filed between towering columns of shelving riddled with as much dust as heavy tomes and parchment scrolls.
How could Yuuri admit that there was someone he wanted to ask? That the reason he spent his nights outside increasingly late in the past weeks wasn't solely because of his conversations with the wind? That it was a sight other than solely winter that had him peering around the forest edge and skirting the Black late long hours into the night?
Yuuri didn't say anything, even if he was under no allusions that his fascination with the Durmstrang students went far from unnoticed. Yuuri had an incessant crush – and he had no idea what to do about it.
A/N: What did you think of the first chapter? Please let me know with a review! I'm pathetically desperate for validation, so any word or two is so massively appreciated. Thank you for reading!