A/N: Edgar Cloggs is a real ghost referred to as the Quidditch Pitch ghost on HP wikia. His age is not specified. Andrew Warren, however, is not an actual character. I hope you enjoy this!
Written for The Quidditch League Competition.
Round 10: Chaser 2 - Edgar Cloggs (ghost)
Prompts: 1. (word) sinking, 3. (quote) Real, or not real?", 7. (word) tree
Astronomy Assignment #4: Write about someone who had an opportunity, but missed it and regretted it.
Word Count: 2,866
Disclaimer: Nope. Never Have, Never Will.
Real
Edgar Cloggs floats aimlessly far away from his usual haunt, the Quidditch Pitch, feeling nostalgic. Along his walk, he sees a two students in their Sixth Year whispering to each other beneath a tree until their voices begin to escalate violently. Abruptly, the girl snaps and punches the boy straight on the nose. The boy curses, his face twisted in pain from the punch or possibly because the girl is stalking away. He knows this boy and the girl. He's the Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team, Draco Malfoy, and she's Hermione Granger, the Brightest Witch of her Year.
He knows exactly what happened, too. How could he not when it's so painfully obvious? It reminds him of something from so long ago that shouldn't be relevant now. But that tree is so familiar.
"Young man, lover spats are no good," he calls out, drifting towards the now sulking boy.
Draco stares suspiciously at the ghost before muttering an 'I know.' It's not the first time he's conversed with the Slytherin boy who probably only knows him as the Quidditch Pitch ghost as most students do.
"Then, shouldn't you try to reconcile with the lovely lady?" Draco stares blankly at the ground and grunts. Edgar can't believe how stubborn Draco's being. "Well?"
"It's not that simple!" It takes Edgar by surprise when Draco's steel burning eyes now glare daggers right through him. But as quickly as the sudden burst of anger comes, it leaves with a sigh, as if it was never there to begin with. "You wouldn't understand."
The boy sounds so resigned that Edgar has to help him. Maybe because he's beginning to see eerily similarities between himself and Draco, and he refuses to let mistakes happen twice. "Try me, lad."
Draco says nothing for several beats, and Edgar thinks that maybe the boy will not speak at all until Draco clears his throat. "I'm a Pureblood, and she's . . . a muggleborn. My family will never let us be together. There's a War coming and there will be a time to take sides. She'll run off to save the world with Harry, and I'll be stuck on the Dark Lord's side. I can't go against my parents, not yet. I know my faults, and she deserves better. I'm weak."
Ping.
The memories Edgar tries to forget every day resurface like a stone thrown into water, rippling all the way to the shore of his mind. It's inevitable the way he wants to drown into his memories and live there, but Draco. Draco Malfoy needs his help.
"Blood." Edgar scoffs, shaking his head at such ridiculousness. "Blood is nothing, child. It's difficult now, but, as you said, there's a War that will abolish that. You have to stand on the correct side."
There is a pause before Draco trembles and breathes out, "How? I'm too weak."
"Nonsense. I don't want someone else to suffer the same mistakes and regrets I did. You are not weak, Draco. You're scared." Edgar smiles softly, his eyes fixated on the tree behind Draco. "Just like I was so many years ago."
"What do you mean?" Draco glances at the tree and back to the ghost. "Just like you?"
"Let me tell you a story." Edgar smile sadly, pressing a hand on the tree where someone has carved their initials, and lets himself fall down memory lane.
"My situation was not like yours. There wasn't an issue about our blood status. I being a half-blood and my partner being a muggleborn didn't have that problem. You see, there all kinds of love in this world, and I fell in love with a man." He gauges Draco's reaction and proceeds when the Slytherin boy looks intrigued instead of disgusted. If only the world was so accepting back then, maybe he would've been stronger. "I met him in first year before we were sorted. He was strange. Instead of being nervous like the rest of us, he approached me and proclaimed himself my best friend."
.oOo.
Edgar Cloggs stands awkwardly amongst the hoard of First Years all waiting to get sorted. Everybody looks pale as they stare at the strange hat sitting on the stool. It's like their entire fate depends on that hat.
"What house are you going to?" Edgar turns to meet a boy a few inches taller than himself with bright blue eyes and blonde hair. He's on the round side with his cheeks puffing out as he grins, and his hair combed down with gel. "I didn't even know magic existed!"
"My mother was a Gryffindor and my father was a Hufflepuff. I'm not sure." He looks back at the boy who furrows his brows in brief thought then grins back at him. Edgar hesitantly returns his smile. "Either is nice."
"Do you have any friends?" the boy asks, stepping closer into his personal space. His blue eyes sparkle, and he decides blue is a pretty color. His own brown eyes don't sparkle; they're just like dirt.
"No, not yet." Is it him or does the strange boy look happy at his answer? What kind of boy smiles at no friends?
"I can be your best friend! I don't know nobody either. It's perfect!"
"I'm Edgar Cloggs." Edgar grins, amused at the blue-eyed boy. This is fun. "Well, how are you going to be my friend if I don't even know your name?"
"Oops. I'm Andrew Warren!" There are two patches of red on his chubby cheeks. Edgar can't help the laugh that escapes him. The two boys laugh and, just like that, they become best friends.
It's even worth the Professor scolding them for being too loud while others are sorted.
"Well, after the first meeting, we build a strong friendship. We were never really seen without each other. It helped that both of us were in the same house. That's how years of friendship went by. I don't remember when I noticed that perhaps we weren't normal friends." Of course he remembers. "We were in fifth year when the others told us we were too close than regular friends. I'm afraid I didn't take it too well myself."
.oOo.
"What did you do?"
Edgar ruefully smiles. "I threw myself into Quidditch."
.oOo.
"Oi, Cloggs!" Edgar frowns, reluctantly turning around to face Alexander Cresa from Slytherin. He isn't the biggest fan of Slytherin, not while being Gryffindor himself. Especially because today there's a match between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and he's a Chaser on the Quidditch team. "Where's your girlfriend, Andrew? I don't see him anywhere!"
It's not the first time Alexander throws those accusations at him. It's ridiculous really. "Knock it off, Cresa. It's not like that. We're best friends, that's all."
"Liar." It takes Edgar by surprise when the other boy slithers into his personal face, smirking as he gets uncomfortable. That damn snake. "I see the way you look at him. The way he looks at you. It's sickening, that's what. Will he be cheering for you today? Cheering on his gay little lover? So, tell me, how good is he at head? He seems like he'll be good with those pink lips of his."
It's a ruse. That's what he has to remind himself since he wants to smash Alexander's nose into his brain. Andrew is just his best friend, really. Of course, they're always together. It's not weird for friends to be so close.
"Or maybe I'll just test how good he is myself."
He snaps. He doesn't know how quickly he moves, but once he knows it, Alexander is against a wall, and he has a wand to this throat. It makes him furious to hear such vile words come out of his mouth. "Andrew will never go for a prick like you. He's an amazing person, and you're trash. Never talk like that ever again, or I will hurt you."
"Calm down, calm down! Don't worry, I know how devout and precious he is to you."
He narrows his eyes and lets the Slytherin go. Alexander sighs in relief, and he grins as he punches the other boy in the face. Edgar hears him yelp and curse, but he walks away heading towards the Pitch. It's ridiculous that he's still angry.
"Ed!" The voice of his best friend makes him stop in his tracks. He feels himself grin in response almost at once when the blonde Gryffindor bounces to his side decked out in red and yellow paint. It's natural how easily Andrew throws an arm around him, and how he leans into his taller friend, letting his head rest against his best friend's shoulder. He never grew taller than Andrew. "You better win! I've made bets with the Ravenclaws, and I'd like to collect my money."
"You're awful." He's teasing him. Andrew never fails to share his sharings with him when they go into Hogsmeade. "Making money off my hard work."
"Well, why else would I be friends with you?" Andre laughs loudly, and, somehow, he catches himself looking at his friend's lips. Alexander's comment comes to his mind, and it's almost silly how quickly he moves away from Andrew's touch. He sees Andrew's confusion, but shakes it off with a weak smile, and practically sprints towards the Pitch. "Hey, wait, what's wrong?"
He doesn't answer him and focuses on the game. It's by a large gap that Gryffindor wins. They dominate as Edgar flies after the quaffle and rallies up his teammate to demolish the Slytherin team. There's no greater satisfaction as he scores a goal from the Slytherin Keeper, Alexander Cresa. Still, he might've won against Slytherin, but it doesn't stop him from avoiding Andrew.
It's small stuff at first. He realizes that whenever they're together, it's unusual how much they touch each other in such a short period. When they're relaxing in the common room, Edgar sits on the couch with a book in his hand, and Andrew lays his head on his lap. They sit like that for hours with Andrew running commentary on his day and gossip he's heard, and he listens and chips in. Or how when they pass each other in the hallways they brush hands or either one of them initiates a hug.
That's the first thing he stops.
He distances himself from Andrew, and he doesn't remember how much time he's spent on the Quidditch Pitch. He rarely sees Andrew now, and there's an ache in his heart. What's worse is how Andrew wants to help him. He doesn't know what happened, but he always attempts to talk to him. Edgar simply brushes it off with an excuse about Quidditch or class.
Edgar can't stop thinking about how pink his lips are, how soft his blond hair is, and how handsome Andrew is.
.oOo.
Edgar pauses in his story and sighs. "If he didn't approach me first, then we wouldn't have been together. At least for a while. He was kind and generous. It was absolutely natural how right we fit together. When you have that, Draco, don't let it go. You fight for it because sometimes you don't get to go back and redo your past."
.oOo.
"Edgar! Wait, please talk to me." He sees how red and puffy Andrew's eyes are, and he grabs the boy's arm and pulls him into their dorm room. Of course, Andrew is surprised because he didn't expect Edgar to actually listen to him.
"What's wrong?" Edgar's hands are all over Andrew's face, and he's actually cupping his face. His face blushes, and he lets go. "Sorry. Are you alright?"
Andrew grins, grabbing Edgar and interlacing their hands, he makes them walk over to his bed. "I thought you were angry with me. I don't know what's been going on, but I miss you. I didn't realize how much of a presence you were in my life." Edgar's breath hitches when Andrew leans in painstakingly slow and presses a light kiss on his lips. "I think I love you."
Edgar sees how hopeful Andrew is and how sparkly his blue eyes have become. Relief flows through him, and he pulls Andrew in for another kiss. When they separate, they're grinning and out of breath. "I love you as well."
.oOo.
"What went wrong?" Draco whispers, asking with caution.
"It was my fault. He wanted our relationship to be public, and I was scared. I let myself get swayed by society. I didn't want to admit I was different. Beautiful Andrew Warren knew that he didn't want to be someone's secret. I was foolish."
He traces the carved heat on the tree with his index finger.
"I was so foolish."
.oOo.
Andrew is red and tears slide down his cheeks. His hands are balled into fists, and his voice is hoarse from screaming. "What do you want from me? You want this to be a fling, is that is? I didn't know you were such a coward."
"We're two men!" Edgar strains his voice, unable to fathom the idea of anyone accepting them. "Two. Men. Our relationship has no future."
"I love you! Is that not enough? Is my love not enough to satisfy you?" Andrew is a mess and so is Edgar. "Are everybody's opinion much more important than our happiness? We can be together. We'll figure it out, love."
"No, you're wrong." Edgar is stupidly stubborn. "We won't be able to get jobs. They'll hurl insults at us. That's not a life you deserve! You should find a nice woman and marry her. You'll be much happier like that."
Andre's eyes flash dangerous, and he grabs Edgar by his shirt. "You think I'll be happy like that? You think I can go against what I am?"
"I'm saying it for you." he responds weakly.
His lover scoffs, letting go of his shirt. "You're doing this for yourself. You don't want t get hurt! Edgar, stop being such a coward!" There's an uncomfortable silence, and he doesn't speak because he knows it's true. "Fine. I see. I hope you're happy with whatever life you choose."
And Andrew walks away from his life.
After that sorrowful day, they don't talk to each other if it's not necessary. Edgar loses himself in Quidditch and it works. His house wins the Quidditch cup. He's no longer a Chaser, but a Keeper. The Appleby Arrows have contacted him for a spot on their team once school finishes. It's heartbreaking, but Andrew and Edgar leave Hogwarts without making up.
That's not to say he doesn't get news from old classmates every once in awhile. When going rigorous training for the team, words gets to his ears. He hears that Andrew is with another man and that they're living happily together. He regrets every day after they broke up. What was Edgar so afraid of? The condemnation they were going to get? It doesn't matter anymore, not when he's let the love of his life go.
Three years after Hogwarts is when he dies. It's an accident. He's going by muggle means with his team towards another training session when a large bus crashes into them. Most of his teammates survives, but he doesn't. At the end of his life, at age 22, he regrets his idiotic decisions when he was 17. He let something precious and irreplaceable go. Life is so short and there's no point of overthinking. He should've known that.
He chooses to stay in the land of the living.
.oOo.
"I lost him, of course. I never saw him again after graduation. When I came back as a ghost, I chose not to seek him. He was happy last I heard, and I didn't want to ruin anything. I had my chance, and I let it slip from my fingers." Edgar places a hand on Draco's shoulder, even if he can't quite touch him, he knows Draco receives the gesture. "Don't let your chance go. You don't know if you'll get another one."
"But how do I go against everything?" Draco whispers, looking like a lost and terrified at the thought of it.
"Draco, what will you come to regret? In two years, in ten years, how do you want to end up? I missed my chance, but it's not too late for you. Don't worry. You'll find the strength you need in her. Don't let others dictate your life. Seek your happiness."
Edgar grins as his words reach Draco's heart, and he runs off shouting thanks. His face is determined, and Edgar knows that this will not be another woeful story.
"Was our relationship worth mentioning? Or was it another past relationship for him?" he whispers, hand on his heart. His memories are nothing more than happy memories. He loved Andrew, but their relationship wasn't meant to be. "Real, or not real?" Even though, their relationship was brief, it was very real to him. Still is.
The sun is still in the sky, and he relaxes beneath the tree. He stays at Hogwarts because that's where his memories of Andrew are most vivid. This is where he is his most happy. Underneath their tree with the initials E & A carved into the trunk, he's sinking into his memories once more.