Rivalry

by Whymsical

Can Slytherin Prefect Arthur Kirkland handle it when Hogwarts receives some unexpected visitors? Pottertalia FrUK.

A/N: This was a birthday fic for a friend of mine, but I hope you all enjoy some Pottertalia~

---

To say Arthur Kirkland was surprised to find an extra bunk above his bed would be an understatement. After checking to make sure no one had heard his (very dignified) scream, the Slytherin prefect set about cautiously examining the new bed. His first thought was that it was a trick or prank, but when the bed failed to explode, catch fire, zap him, or do anything really, he started to doubt that theory. The bed seemed to be just that- a normal bed, that just happened to appear above Arthur's own.

He tired to magic it away, but no spells he chanted worked. Eventually he had to stop so he wouldn't be late for breakfast and his classes. At the table he heard rumours about a few other people who had woken up in the same predicament- either two or three from each house. The other Slytherin, from what Arthur could see, was a serious seventh year girl.

"Good morning everyone!" The Headmaster had risen and was standing behind his ornate podium. "I assume that some of you are confused by the sudden...additions to your sleeping quarters." He waited for murmurs of assent before continuing. "Those of you with the extra bunks please report to the Transfiguration classroom after final lessons and it will be explained to you. Have a pleasant day."

Arthur scowled. Well that explained nothing. Moodily he finished his scones and swept from the room, snapping at some second years who were poking one of the paintings along the way.

He was tense and impatient in all of his classes that day- his thoughts kept wandering back to the extra bed and he wanted to find out what was going on with it. Once his final class let out he stalked toward the Transfiguration room, being the last one there because he came from the other side of the school.

When he entered, a few of the students from other houses gave him looks or moved away, but Arthur didn't pay them any attention. He was used to such reactions. He took a seat off to the side and waited.

The professor entered a few minutes later. "Thank you for coming. I'm sure you're all dying of curiosity, so I'll get right to the point. As some of you know, we have a sister school in France: the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. This year we have initiated a trial Study Abroad program with them. It's similar to an exchange program in the muggle world, but you would stay there normally. Now, the Beauxbatons students have volunteered to come here first, and we, the staff, have chosen you to be the hosts."

She had to pause for a moment here when chatter filled the room. Arthur stayed silent, relieved that at least it wasn't all some big prank. But Beauxbatons... Arthur didn't particularly like the French so he wasn't quite so sure how this would work out. But he had been chosen as part of a select few out of the whole school, so he was determined not to screw it up.

Finally, the room quieted down and the professor was able to speak again. "The Beauxbatons students will be arriving tomorrow evening, so please report here after dinner to receive your assigned students. Any questions?"

A Ravenclaw girl raised her hand. "How will they be assigned, gender-wise?"

"Boy to boy, girl to girl."

"How long will they stay?" The question came from one of the Gryffindor boys.

"One semester." The professor glanced around the room. "They will accompany you and be a part of all your classes. We have paired you up according to schedules they wouldn't mind following." A few hands lowered. "Is that all? Very good. You are dismissed."

Arthur was the last to leave. The arriving French students stayed in the back of his mind for the rest of the evening, when he was doing homework or reading. By dinner the news had spread and everyone was talking about it. A few younger Slytherins even approached Arthur to congratulate him about it. He accepted their congratulations gracefully, but with his usual distance.

The following evening, there was practically a hero's sendoff when the group of hosts made their way to the Transfiguration room again. The French students were already there, waiting, ten in all. Their chaperone and the Transfiguration professor were there as well. When the Hogwarts students all entered, the professor stood and approached them.

"We're not going to waste any time because our guests are probably tired from their journey, so once we give out the assignments, you may go straight up to your dormitories."

Arthur was the fourth person to get assigned. He barely heard the name 'Francis Bonnefoy' before one of the French students was standing up and walking over. The student was a bit taller than Arthur, with blond hair down to nearly his shoulders, blue eyes, and a hint of stubble on his chin.

"Bonjour. I am Francis." he said with a soft smile, extending his hand in greeting.

Arthur shook it lightly. "Arthur Kirkland. A pleasure. Let's get going, shall we?"

Francis nodded. He went over to get all of his luggage, Arthur following along to help him. They took one suitcase each, and the English boy led him down to the Slytherin common room and then his room.

"You'll be sleeping on the top bunk." Arthur motioned to it. "Would you like some help unpacking?"

"Non, merci." When Arthur stared at him uncomprehendingly, he chuckled. "No, thank you."

Arthur shrugged and strode over to his desk to work on some homework. "Oh, and half of the closet is for your clothes."

"Merci." Francis strode over to it and started unpacking. "You have this room to yourself, usually?" he asked, making conversation as he worked.

"Yes. I'm a sixth year and a prefect, so I don't have to share with anyone. The prefects also have their own bathroom, which you will be able to use. I'll show you where it is later."

"Sounds good." Francis pulled a stack of books, a whole bunch of clothes, numerous accessories- hats and scarves, mostly- a supply of French foods and treats, and a couple of cooking instruments, which he all hid away either in the closet or on the bed.

"What's all that for?" Arthur asked, having turned to watch him with wide eyes. "And how the bloody hell did it all fit?"

Francis smiled. "For the cooking. Et my suitcases are charmed. They are larger on the inside." he said with a wink.

"Those aren't allowed here. If you want food, you'll have to go to the kitchens."

Francis pursed his lips. "Come now Arthur, it won't harm anyone. I'll let you try some food and even use them yourself, if you won't break them."

"I wouldn't break them!" Arthur snapped.

"Bon!" Francis said happily. "Then it is settled!"

Arthur's mouth opened and closed a few times, and he reddened when he realized what situation he had gotten himself into. "If anyone finds out about this, it's going on your head."

Francis chuckled. "Will you show me the bathroom now? I would like to wash after my journey." He gathered up the necessary things.

"Sure." Arthur scowled slightly at all the fancy items- expensive soaps and hair products, a fluffy towel, silk pajamas. He cast a glance at his own slightly ragged towel but decided against it; he could bathe later. He picked up his Potions book instead and led the way to the prefect's bathroom.

Francis's eyes lit up in appreciation when he saw the bath. He immediately went over to the edge and started fiddling with the various faucets until he had made himself a rose-scented bubble bath. "C'est incroyable!"

Meanwhile, Arthur had gone with his textbook and settled down by the sinks, his back to Francis to give him some privacy. Potions was his weakest subject so he spent almost every spare moment reading the textbook in hopes that he'd get better. He hadn't improved yet, but he kept his hopes up.

"What is that?"

He jumped as a shadow fell over him and looked up to see Francis standing next to him, dripping water onto the floor. At least he had a towel around his waist. His head was tilted to the side out of curiosity and his blue eyes were bright.

Arthur showed it to him.

"Ahh, Potions. I enjoy Potions, it is similar to cooking."

"Oh, err, I suppose it is." That might explain it- Arthur would never admit it, but he couldn't cook at all. "Are you done?"

"Non, I need another few minutes. Are you not bathing?"

"I don't have my things with me, so I'll just come back later."

Francis nodded and went back into the bathtub while Arthur stuck his nose into the textbook. The French student was done about ten minutes later. On the way back to their dormitory, Arthur explained to him how to get into the bathroom and Slytherin common room so he would be able to move around a bit on his own if he wanted to. Francis graciously thanked him and immediately went to sleep when they got back.

The next day, there seemed to always be at least a small crowd of people around Francis, talking to him and asking questions. He was flattered by the attention and he easily talked back to the Hogwarts students, but he noticed that no one was talking to Arthur. Even though the crowd was around the two of them (he was sitting next to Arthur in all of the classes) they mostly ignored the Slytherin. Sure, Francis had seen him snapping harshly at the younger students caught doing something wrong, but wasn't that his job as a prefect? The French boy was confused about it, so after classes he questioned Arthur.

"Why is it that people do not talk to you?" he asked when they were on their way to the library.

Arthur paused for a moment on the steps, but quickly recovered. He shrugged. "I'm not very social, and I'm a Slytherin."

"What does being a Slytherin have to do with anything?"

"There's a centuries- old rivalry between the houses, especially Slytherin and Gryffindor. And Slytherin is known as being the Dark House."

"House rivalry? That is très stupide. You should all be united as a school." Francis shook his head, muttering under his breath for a few moments. "Are you sure it is not your eyebrows that are scaring the students away?"

"Excuse me? Of course not, my eyebrows are perfectly fine!" Arthur's hands rose to cover them in defense.

"They look cursed." Francis said flatly.

Arthur turned red. "So- So does your hair!" he shot back.

"My hair?" Francis examined himself briefly in a pane of glass. "There is nothing wrong with my hair."

Arthur huffed and continued onward, a chuckling Francis following behind. He left after a few minutes though, leaving Arthur alone in the library. The English wizard was conflicted. Francis had been nice enough so far, but he was French. And he'd insulted his eyebrows, which were perfectly fine. He shook his head and focused on his work.

---

"Are you planning on spending the night here, sourcils?"

Arthur jumped in his seat. It was hours later, and he hadn't noticed Francis approaching. "Don't do that! And no, I was just about to finish. What time is it?"

"Some of the other students are saying it's time for the eating."

"Time for the eating?" Arthur snorted. Francis had a pretty good handle on English, but there were still some phrases or words he had trouble with. "You mean supper?"

"Oui. Are you coming?"

"One moment, let me pack up." Arthur had occasionally missed meals because of studying, and once he'd collapsed because he hadn't eaten in a week. That had been last year before the O.W.L.s, but they still occasionally checked up on his eating habits.

Francis waited patiently while Arthur gathered up his things. They walked down to the Great Hall together. The French students had integrated pretty well that day, and they were laughing and eating as if they had always been there. Arthur wanted to sit more off to the side, but Francis steered him more towards the middle of the table.

The Frenchman wrinkled his nose when he saw the food. "This is ahh...interesting cuisine."

Arthur sniffed and shot him a glare. "Don't knock it until you try it." He loaded his plate with some of his favourites and dug in.

Francis lightly poked at the dishes before scooping a small amount of food onto his plate. He hesitated before taking a bite, but after he started he politely finished the meal. "It was...interesting."

"I'm sure." Arthur snorted and chuckled, rising. "Are you coming or no?"

"Oui." Francis bade the surrounding students good night and followed Arthur, running for a moment to catch up with him. "So are you sure it is not your eyebrows? They are quite ahh...distracting."

"I'm positive." Arthur growled.

"Hmm...they look like petit caterpillars."

Arthur reddened. "They do not, leave them alone!"

Francis chuckled. "Very well. We will go clean ourselves now, yes?"

"Yes." Arthur nodded. He took his shower things along with him this time, and they took turns bathing while the other looked away. Arthur felt himself relaxing in the water, though the feeling faded away once they left the bathroom.

"This day was good." Francis commented.

"Was it? Glad you enjoyed it." Arthur replied, turning away for a moment to speak the current password for the common room. "How is the bed?"

"Ahh...more hard than the one at home, but there are no problems." Francis said, glancing at him occasionally with a calculating look in his eyes.

If Arthur noticed the glances, he didn't mention anything as he bade Francis good night and retired to his bed. He heard some rummaging from the Frenchman, but he turned so he was facing the wall and drifted off. During the night he half woke, hearing creaking coming from up above him, but he merely rolled over and muttered to Francis to hush before falling back into a deeper slumber.

The next morning Francis was up first, already dressed and seated on the desk chair by the time Arthur woke. "Bonjour!" he said cheerfully as Arthur rose. "How did you sleep...ah?" He frowned slightly when Arthur first turned toward him, but he quickly covered it up.

"Wot?" Arthur gave him a suspicious glare, which only deepened when Francis started smiling and shaking in muffled silent laughter.

"Non, non, it is nothing."

Arthur 'tch'ed in annoyance and stalked over to the mirror hanging on the inner door of his dresser. He stopped and stared when he saw himself. There, right above his eyes and in place of his eyebrows, were two fuzzy golden caterpillars. Living, breathing caterpillars. As Arthur watched, they opened their eyes and yawned, blinking awake. And, as Arthur's mood plummeted, they turned from golden to black.

"Francis Bonnefoy, what the bloody hell have you done?!"

---

Francis got a chance to explain himself once Arthur calmed down and stopped trying to kill him with one of the French student's pots. "Non! Non, arrête, Arthur!" He was on the bed, fending Arthur off with his pillow.

"Get down here, frog!" Arthur was trying to climb the ladder. He stopped and retreated, however, when one of his eyebrows squeaked after getting hit. "You hurt him!" he accused, glaring again. Even though he may not have wanted them, the caterpillars were attached to him, and his protective instincts reared their head. He lightly touched the caterpillar and sighed when it squeaked again.

Francis snorted and chuckled at him. "Arthur-"

"No!" Arthur flung the pot at him, and Francis had to duck to avoid getting whacked with it. "Explain yourself!"

"I was trying-" Francis stopped when Arthur's glare deepened even more. He had to further muffle his laughter because the caterpillars were trying to look fierce as well, scowling and attempting to growl/roar silently. "C'est adorable..." he murmured.

"What was that?"

"I merely wanted to get rid of the curse on them!"

"They weren't cursed, you utter tosser!"

"I didn't know- they look cursed!"

"You-" Arthur suddenly smiled and murmured something under his breath. There was a poof of smoke around Francis's head. "And now your hair looks cursed!"

"Non!" Francis grabbed a nearby mirror. His hair now poofed out in all directions, creating a halo around his head when he leaned into the sunlight streaming through one of the windows. "That was deliberate on your part!"

Arthur crossed his arms smugly, smirking. "You started it, so don't complain."

"Oh you are on, rosbif!"

"Fine!"

"Bon!" Francis huffed and hopped down from the bed, leaving the room before Arthur could do anything else to him.

Arthur sniffed and moved to the closet to get his robes, turning all of Francis's clothes an alarming shade of pink along the way. Once he was dressed he stood in front of the mirror, examining the caterpillars more closely. They were quite cute, really. They were both male, and their fuzz kept switching between black and gold. Arthur raised an eyebrow (caterpillar) in surprise. So they showed his mood as well? Either way, he couldn't very well walk around with caterpillars on his face. Since he didn't know what spell Francis had used he couldn't undo it, so he shook some of his hair over them to hide them.

Then they started eating his hair.

"Oi, stop that." Arthur muttered and pushed his hair back, poking at the caterpillar on the left. It squeaked in response. He sighed and turned away, heading for the Great Hall.

His annoyance returned when he saw that Francis had managed to get his hair back to normal. He glowered as he sat down next to him, and Francis bit his lip to lessen his smile.

"They must be hungry, mon ami." he whispered.

"Bugger off." Arthur snapped, though he surreptitiously took a piece of lettuce and raised it up so the caterpillars could feed. It was gone in seconds.

Thankfully, none of the other students noticed the change. Some of the professors did notice, but most of them didn't say a word about it. Most.

"Kirkland, stay after a few minutes, would you?" the Transfiguration professor called at the end of that period.

"Yes, Professor." Arthur shot a dirty look at Francis, who had stayed behind after the other students filed out and settled in the back corner. "What is it?"

"What in heavens happened to your eyebrows, Kirkland? Why are they flickering?"

"They've been...err...turned into mood changing caterpillars, Professor."

"Pardon? By whom?"

"The utter twat in the corner." Arthur said, loud enough that Francis would hear.

"They looked cursed!" Francis called back.

"Language, Kirkland. You haven't been able to turn them back?"

"No, ma'am. I've tried, but I don't know what spell he used."

The professor 'tch'ed. "You're one of my best students, I expected you'd know." She turned to Francis. "Bonnefoy, is it? Come up here."

"It's probably some strange froggy curse." Arthur muttered, the caterpillars shifting from black to gold to red.

"Bonjour, madame." Francis said as he strolled over, a warm smile on his face. "Et caterpillar-brows."

"Yes, hello. I am interested in what you did to Kirkland here."

Francis shrugged. "I was under the ahh...impression that they were cursed. The spell is a bit of a backfire and irreversible-" He ignored Arthur's shocked gasp. "But the effects will only last a week."

"What spell was it?" Arthur stepped forward threateningly.

Francis stepped back. "It is a French spell. It has no name- c'est très nouveau."

"Really now?" The professor looked impressed. "Kirkland, you're dismissed. Watch out for those caterpillars- they're living, breathing animals that can die. Bonnefoy, stay for a moment longer, I'd like to discuss that spell with you."

Arthur nodded to her, shot a death glare at Francis, and swept from the room. He didn't say a word to the French wizard when he joined the Herbology class. He did look up when a bundle of greens was dropped onto the tabletop in front of him, however.

"For your caterpillars." Francis murmured. "Take care of them, et something wonderful will happen."

Arthur scoffed, but pocketed the bundle. The rest of their classes held no more words exchanged between either of them. The English boy headed straight for the library afterward to do homework so he didn't see how Francis reacted to the clothes, but it was a small loss. As he worked, the caterpillars gradually changed into blue and green, though they shot back to black once he reached his Potions work.

After an hour of struggling with it he finally gave up, exhausted. It was past dinner, but Arthur just went right up to his room. He ignored Francis, who was reading one of his books on top of his bed, and flung himself onto his own mattress.

Francis blinked and peered over the edge of the railing. "Ça va?"

"I can't understand your stupid language, idiot." Came the muffled reply.

The French boy chuckled. "Are you always this angry, mon ami?"

"I'm not your 'ami', whatever that is, and I'd appreciate it if you would kindly leave me the hell alone."

Francis frowned but did as asked, moving back to his previous position. There wasn't too much contact between the two of them for the next few days, though they attempted to be at least civil towards each other in the presence of teachers or adults. Behind the scenes though it was a different story, and the number of times itching powder or hair curses or clothing pranks occurred was soon lost count of.

The next time they really spoke was after a girl approached Francis and asked him out. He gently refused her. "Ahh... Désolé, but I am not interested in mademoiselles." he said with a soft smile. The girl looked slightly disappointed, but she nodded and left.

"You're into boys?" Arthur asked.

"Oui." Francis said brightly. "Is that a problem?"

"N-No, of course not." His caterpillars turned purple for a brief moment.

Francis noticed. "Oh? Arthur, are you interested in the boys as well?" Arthur stayed silent, but Francis only had to look a bit higher on his face to find his answer. "...I see."

"You see? You see what? I didn't answer you!"

"You do not have to, cher." Francis said, trying to muffle his snickers.

Arthur huffed at him but froze when he saw his reflection in a window. The caterpillars were a bright swirling rainbow, and they looked very smug, if Arthur did say so himself.

"Francis you bastard!" he yelled, whirling on the taller student with his fists raised.

"Non!" Francis backed away from him, still chuckling. "Non, Arthur, arrête!" Arthur did manage to land a few hits on his arms and sides, but they didn't hurt and he was able to catch both of Arthur's wrists. He held them tightly and then pinned the English boy to the nearest wall.

Arthur froze when he realized what position they were in. "Let me go, idiot, before someone sees!"

"Then stop trying to hit me." Francis said patiently.

"I-! Fine, I'll stop." Arthur muttered. He stopped moving and glared up at him.

"Bon." Francis released him and stepped away.

Arthur quickly hit him in the stomach and walked away. "Hah, frog." he called over his shoulder.

Francis winced, not expecting it, and he doubled over for a brief moment. As he straightened he murmured a spell under his breath. There was a shimmer of sparks that came out of Arthur's bag, but it went unnoticed.

Until the next class when they had to take out their textbooks to read. Arthur yelped when he opened his book. He promptly slammed it shut and whacked Francis in the arm with it.

"Arthur-!"

"French! You turned my books into bloody French!"

"I have noticed you enjoy hitting me..." Francis commented, holding his arm. "Would you not like to change that to the hitting of on me?"

"What?" Arthur took a moment to make sense of Francis's skewed English grammar. "No! Now change them back!"

"Kirkland!" The Potions professor strode over to them, not looking pleased. "What is going on here?" Every word was accented, and his tone was precise and politely pissed off.

"He made my textbooks French, Professor." Arthur muttered, showing him. "I'm kindly requesting that he turn them back."

"Kindly?" Francis snorted. "Non, that is not the case."

"You-"

The professor interrupted them by taking a long, deep breath. "Bonnefoy, change Kirkland's book back. He's nearly failing as it is, he doesn't need help." he said, and then walked off.

"Arthur?" Francis asked gently. "Is that true?"

Arthur's cheeks burned with embarrassment. He shoved his book at him. "Just change the blasted thing back."

"I can maybe help..."

"No! I don't need your help. Just change it back!"

Francis raised his hands submissively and uttered a spell. The book shimmered as it reverted back to its original form, and then the glow faded. Arthur took it back and then proceeded to ignore him for the rest of class. At the end he had created what seemed like radioactive sludge that was an acidic green colour. It was nothing like the delicate lavender the potion was supposed to be. Francis was alarmed, to say the least, but Arthur looked confident (or at least indifferent) as he bottled a sample to take up.

As soon as the bell sounded Arthur got up and vanished. He left the classroom and made his way to the Owlry, needing to get away. He had sought solitude there before, so there was a little alcove he had converted into a makeshift nest of pillows and blankets for himself. The general lack of other people and the cooing of owls helped him relax. He didn't want anyone knowing about his struggles in Potions- especially Francis, who excelled at the class.

He stayed there for two hours before dragging himself out to do homework. He skipped dinner again, wanting to finish all of his work so he could go to his other special place.

The Forbidden Forest.

Yes, students were banned from going there unless for detention and yes Arthur was a prefect, but there were special creatures there he visited. In his second year, he'd found an injured baby unicorn during one of his night detentions. He'd healed it and ended up visiting every few weeks. He had seen the other unicorns and knew the numbers of the herd, and they allowed him to touch them.

By now he knew the forest like the back of his hand- the best paths, which spots to avoid, how to act around certain creatures. He moved easily through the darkness, shrouded by his Invisibility Cloak- a gift from one of his brothers. He shed it once he reached the clearing where the unicorns resided. There were three there that night- the male Arthur had saved those four years ago and two females. One of them seemed to be pregnant, and close to giving birth.

Arthur's eyes lit up when he saw them, and they nickered softly to him, the male coming right up to nose against him. The English wizard smiled and stroked the equine's neck, feeling his anger dissipate. The unicorns never failed to make him feel so much better.

The male raised his head and sniffed around Arthur's eyebrows. The caterpillars squeaked when they felt his nose, and Arthur chuckled.

"They've been cursed, boy. By a frog." Arthur explained. He moved over to a fallen tree and sat on the ground, leaning against it.

The pregnant mare came over and lay down next to him, resting her head on his lap. Still smiling softly, Arthur started to stroke her neck and stomach, and if he held a hand there long enough, he could feel the baby kicking.

As the night wore on a few more unicorns came and went, but the pregnant female didn't move until finally hours later, when Arthur had to gently push her off when it was time for him to go back to the castle. He slipped back in without any problems, and while Francis stirred, he didn't wake up.

The next morning the Potions professor sought him out at breakfast and gave him a warning- the exams for the end of the unit were coming up, and if he didn't pass that, then he would fail. Any sort of happiness Arthur had had went out the window. He gritted his teeth and nodded, not noticing the concerned glances Francis shot his way. He was distracted from his gloomy mood, however, when the caterpillars fell off his face and into his lap.

"...What?" Arthur blinked.

"Ahh." Francis leaned over and smiled. "The curse is finished. Your eyebrows are back."

Arthur reached up and felt that indeed his real eyebrows were back. Smiling slightly, he scooped up the caterpillars and examined them. They were still alive and exactly the same, except not attached to his face. They were half black and half gold, the colours having frozen the moment they had fallen off.

"Why...?" he asked.

"This curse creates beauty." Francis told him softly. "In a few moments they will turn into beau butterflies and fly away."

Even as he was saying this, the caterpillars started shimmering and glowing softly. When the light faded they were gone, replaced by two large, beautiful black and gold butterflies perched on Arthur's hand. They fluttered their wings for a moment and then flew off, the gold parts shimmering brilliantly in the sun.

"Creative, non?" Francis asked.

"...I suppose, but don't do it again." Arthur snapped, rising from the table.

That day seemed to have it in for him. In Transfiguration, they were put in pairs to practice the Lapifors spell, and Arthur ended up with Francis. Arthur nodded politely to him as he moved his chair a bit closer to him, but he paused when he saw the smile on the French boy's face.

"Bonjour." Francis said, immediately followed by, "Lapifors!"

Arthur went up in a poof of smoke. When it cleared, Arthur found himself perched on the desk in rabbit form. Everything seemed huge to him, and he let out a squeak as he was suddenly grabbed and picked up. Francis's hands were warm and enveloped almost his entire body.

At first Arthur was too shocked to do anything, but after a few seconds he got pissed off and started struggling, trying to scratch and bite him. His heartbeat sped up when the grip around him tightened, but it was only to keep him still.

"Arthur..." Francis cooed, lifting him firmly but gently up to his face. "Tu es adorable, mon petit ami."

Arthur growled and hissed weakly at him. Francis just laughed and lowered him to his lap, starting to stroke him. Arthur at first lay stiffly there, but after a few long moments he inwardly relaxed. On the outside, there was no change.

Francis continued to gently stroke him, wanting him to relax and loosen up. "Come on, Arthur." he said as he ran his hands over the velvety fur. "It's all right, the spell can be removed. Enjoy it."

But Arthur still didn't respond. Francis gave a few more strokes and then stopped, lifting his hand away sadly. There was silence for a few moments, but then a low growling filled the air. The French wizard blinked, looking down at Arthur in surprise. He hesitantly started stroking him again, and the growling stopped. After a few moments, he stopped again. This time, apart from the growling, Arthur turned around in Francis's lap and shoved his nose against Francis's fingers, nuzzling them.

"Ahh, so you like that, hmm?" Francis asked, smiling.

Arthur let out a small huff and closed his eyes, growling more until Francis resumed his motion. The professor walked by and praised Francis on his spellcasting skills but Arthur ignored her, only focused on the absolutely heavenly feeling of getting petted.

Francis eventually had to stop in order to turn him back. When that happened Arthur growled and squeaked again, but Francis merely smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of his head before placing him back down on his chair and uttering the reversal spell.

The human Arthur reappeared with in another poof of smoke. "What are you smiling for?" he snapped, seeing the look on Francis's face.

"Hmm? No reason. So you enjoyed that, oui?"

"No. We do not speak of it, do you understand?"

"Mais Arthur, if you enjoyed it-"

"Not. A. Word."

Francis chuckled but nodded. "Very well, petit lapin."

"Don't call me that!" Arthur's cheeks reddened.

Francis shook his head, still smiling. He dropped the issue though, and for the rest of the lesson they did what they were supposed to- turning objects into real rabbits. Personally, the French boy thought none of the other rabbits looked as cute as Arthur had, but for his own safety he didn't voice his opinion.

The whole time Arthur was avoiding looking at the other blond. He was mortified how much he had enjoyed the petting. A small part of him wanted to still be a rabbit and feel that. He shook his head and focused on his spells.

Although neither of them probably intended it, that incident marked a shift in their relationship. Francis stared being slightly less obnoxious, while Arthur found himself attempting to be less snappy toward him. The English boy no longer sought the quiet recluse of the library and instead did his work in the common room, occasionally even taking walks with Francis around the grounds, settling down under a tree to practice spells.

"You know it surprises me how pleasant you can be." Francis remarked on one such day, teasing light in his eyes. He was stretched out on the grass in the shade of a tree by the lake, Arthur propped up against the bark next to him. "I was wondering about that."

"Wanker." Arthur replied, tossing a clump of grass at him.

Francis sputtered for a moment as a few stalks fluttered across his face. "Désolé, the moment is gone." he said wistfully, though he was smiling.

Arthur snorted. "Here, you look ridiculous." he said, reaching out to brush the grass from his face and hair. His fingertips lingered for a second longer than was necessary on Francis's cheek and then withdrew to return to his lap.

"Merci." Francis hummed softly.

"You know it surprises me that you can be less...froggy when you put your mind to it." Arthur said a few moments later, echoing Francis's words. "I was wondering about that."

Francis chuckled. "I am happy to see you are getting used to the French."

"I am not!" Arthur looked affronted at the very thought. "But...I suppose I tolerate you."

"Just me?" Francis raised an eyebrow. "That is such an honour."

"Oh belt up." Arthur looked up at the sky and closed his textbook, standing. He brushed the grass from his robes and offered a hand to the other. "It's getting late. Let's go, shall we?"

Francis took it and pulled himself to his feet, giving Arthur's hand a little squeeze before letting go.

Arthur coughed and set off, Francis beside him. They had to walk near the lake to get back to the castle, on a path running right along the edge. Arthur always felt a little nervous, but he took a deep, calming breath and walked on. It was all right, he was fine, nothing had ever-

There was pressure on his back as he was pushed and sent tumbling into the water. As he fell he caught sight of a cloaked figure with the tip of a red and gold scarf protruding from the hood, and Francis's surprised face. Then he hit the water and his body went into shock. He struggled and thrashed around for a moment, but then his vision went black and he stopped.

Francis blinked when this happened, reacting too slowly to catch the figure currently dashing away or stop Arthur from falling in. After a moment he moved over to the edge of the path and knelt down, ready to help Arthur back up. The English boy would be wet and mad, but he would surface in a moment and...

He frowned as the moments dragged on and the surface of the water remained unbroken. Where was Arthur? Unless... He bolted upright and cast aside his robes before diving in.

The water was murky and he couldn't see very well, so he closed his eyes and relied on touch, reaching out and probing the water with his hands. He instinctively drew back when he brushed against something, but then realized it was Arthur's arm and grasped it. The rest of Arthur's- unmoving, he realized with a jolt- body followed and he carefully scooped the other boy into his arms before swimming for the surface.

He lay Arthur on the path on his back and started pumping the water from his lungs, turning him briefly onto his side so the liquid could escape. After a few moments he was sure most of the water was gone, but Arthur still wasn't breathing. Struggling to keep his calm, he brushed Arthur's hair away from his face with shaking hands. He uttered a quick prayer before pressing his lips against Arthur's, transferring his air to him.

For a few seconds- though it felt like eternity to the French boy- there was no response, but then he felt Arthur's lips start to move weakly against his own, almost as if in a kiss. The next second Arthur turned his face away and curled slightly in on himself, coughing up the rest of the water.

"Oh mon Dieu, Arthur, merci, merci." Francis helped him sit up and hugged him when he quieted down. "Merci..." He continued mumbling in French, stroking Arthur's back the whole time.

"Fran- Francis?" Arthur asked hoarsely, shivering and moving a bit closer to him.

"I thought you were going to die." Francis murmured, pulling back to look at him with slightly watery eyes. He noticed the shivering and wrapped Arthur up in his robe. "Here."

Arthur blinked and looked at him. The other boy was wearing his underclothes, a white dress shirt and black pants. "Thank you..." he said, wrapping himself more snugly in the robes.

"Of course, Arthur." Francis ran his hands over him to make sure he was all right. "Come on, you should get out of the outside. Can you stand?"

"I think so." Arthur struggled to his feet, staggering to the side.

Francis was immediately next to him, supporting him, "Non, n-non, don't strain yourself. I will help." With his arm securely around Arthur's waist, he set off toward the castle once more, this time staying on the far side of the path.

He was expecting Arthur to be blushing and sputtering and trying to move away, but the other boy just walked along quietly. Francis was concerned, and he lightly rubbed circles into his side to try and calm him down. Arthur started and looked up at him, eyes wide.

"It's all right, cher. You're out of the water, there is nothing to worry about." Francis told him, giving him a soft smile.

Arthur nodded, becoming slightly more collected. They received a few stares when they entered, but Francis waved off anyone who tried to approach them. He wanted to take Arthur to the infirmary, but the Slytherin refused, instead pulling them off in the direction of the common room. Francis sighed but allowed him to do so, taking charge when they got there.

"Sit." he said, pointing to the bed. "Et take off those wet clothing." He moved to their wardrobe and sorted through Arthur's clothes to find something warm.

"What?" Arthur curled deeper into Francis's robe.

Francis sighed. "I will not do anything, but you will get sick if you sit there looking like a drowned cat." There was silence behind him, and he turned around to see Arthur shaking a bit again. "Je suis désolé, Arthur. I'm sorry, I didn't think. But come, take that off."

"...You should change too." Arthur eventually said, pulling the robes off and tossing them to the floor with a wet splat.

Francis passed him a blanket and then a few moments later a robe for him to put on. "Oui, oui, I will." He rummaged around his own side until he found something suitable for himself. He magically hung up a blanket from the ceiling to give them both privacy to change.

Arthur changed quickly and then curled up in Francis's robes again. He sat on the edge of the bed, completely swathed by the fabric with only his face peeking out. "...Thank you."

"Hmm?" Francis peeked around the edge of the blanket and laughed softly when he saw him. "Oh, tu es très mignon. But what are you thanking me for?"

"Saving me."

Francis came out from behind the blanket and sat down next to him. "Don't be stupide, why would I not?"

Arthur shrugged lightly. "I thought you disliked me because of the pranks."

Francis laughed and slung an arm over Arthur's shoulders, mussing up the part of his hair that was poking out. "Of course not. If I disliked you, then why did we go on walks and do work together? Why would I save you, if I hated you?"

Arthur was silent.

"You know I didn't really want to take part in all those silly pranks, rosbif." Francis said softly.

"You started it!"

"As I said before, I thought you had been cursed before." Francis defended. "Arthur, I came with the intent to make friends with my roommate." He rested his chin on top of Arthur's head. "I am wondering if it is not too late for that?"

"...I suppose we can try...frog." Arthur eventually muttered, but he pressed a bit closer to him.

Francis chuckled and nodded, pulling away. "Ahh. I think it is time for supper now. Allons-y." He held out an arm.

Arthur took it, allowing Francis to pull him up and out of his miniature robe-nest. He let go as soon as he was up and led the way to the Great Hall. So Francis wanted to be friends, and had all along. He realized, a bit guiltily, that it was mainly his fault that they had gotten off to such a rocky start. He stole a peek at him, but Francis was looking around at the paintings on the wall.

There was a group of Gryffindors off to the side that gave the two of them a nasty look, but Arthur didn't notice them. Francis did and shot them a glare, moving closer to the English boy along the way.

"I'm still not understanding why anyone would push you in." he murmured.

Arthur sighed. "In their minds, they need no reason other than the fact I am a Slytherin."

"Is that the House rivalry you told me about before?"

"Yes." Arthur was surprised he remembered.

"That's ridiculous!" Francis hissed, sending the Gryffindors another glare. "You could have died, c'est pas amusant-

"English, Francis." Arthur gently put his hand on Francis's arm to stop his ranting. "And there's nothing you can do about it, so don't bother yourself."

"But it's not funny- this- this would never have happened at Beauxbatons." he sniffed.

"Francis, please. Not now." Arthur took his seat and took some food for himself, gesturing for Francis to do the same.

Francis huffed but did so, though he still muttered to himself in French. Arthur periodically glanced at him and chuckled, and he nudged Francis's foot under the table with his own to get him to loosen up. The French boy looked at him and nudged him back, but did seem to relax. He certainly quieted.

After they ate Francis did manage to drag him to the infirmary so the nurse could look at him. Much to the French boy's delight and Arthur's annoyance, she announced him in minor shock and ordered him to rest the next day, which meant no classes. She also excused Francis so he could keep an eye on him and make sure he actually rested.

"You don't have to look so smug about it, frog-face." Arthur muttered as they descended to the common room.

"I am not smug, I am just happy that you will rest." Francis replied. "Ahh, and we get to sleep longer tomorrow." He sighed happily.

Arthur grumbled to himself, and then grumbled some more when he saw the pile of wet robes on the floor of their room. He hung them up and then changed, crawling under the covers with a huff.

Francis chuckled and sat down on the edge of the mattress, pulling his hair out of its ponytail. "How do you feel?"

"Fine. For the last time, I feel perfectly fine."

"Désolé, I am just worried."

"You can stop worrying now." Arthur said, his voice muffled by his covers. "It's over now, and done with."

"You could have died, Arthur-" Francis cut off and sighed. He reached across to gently ruffle Arthur's hair before slipping off the bed and standing. "Bonne nuit."

Arthur sniffed but didn't reply, and he turned onto his side so his back was facing the room. He hoped it was clear that he didn't want to speak about it anymore.

Francis shook his head and changed as well, climbing up to his bed with a book. He read for about an hour before peeking down to check on him. Arthur was fast asleep, and unmoving. He flicked off the light and turned onto his side, closing his eyes and falling asleep as well.

He was woken about forty-five minutes later by muffled sniffling coming from below.

"...Arthur?" Francis asked sleepily, flicking his light on and peering over the edge of the mattress.

The English boy was tossing and turning, a frown on his face and sobs coming from between his clenched teeth.

"Arthur?!" Francis stumbled down the ladder and rushed to his side.

Arthur woke with a start, his face pale. "F-Francis...?" he looked around shakily. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"Oui, but it is no problem. What's wrong?" He sat down on the edge of Arthur's bed again and lightly touched his forehead.

"Nothing. Just a nightmare." Arthur muttered, averting his gaze. "Go back to sleep."

"What was the nightmare about?" Francis pulled Arthur into his arms and gently rubbed his back.

"...Water." Arthur eventually admitted, his voice muffled by Francis's shirt. "Water and drowning."

"Oh, Arthur..." Francis let go of him, but that was only so he could slide into bed with him. He curled protectively around the smaller boy, wrapping his arms around Arthur and pulling him close once more, at the same time tangling their legs together.

"Wh- Francis?" Arthur twisted around so that they were facing each other.

"Shh." Francis hushed him and stroked his hair. "It's all right now, go back to sleep."

Arthur paled again and moved closer to him. "Th- The water-"

"Cannot harm you." Francis said gently. "I will be here, I won't let anything happen to you. I promise." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Arthur's forehead.

Arthur froze and then squirmed a bit in his grip. "Wh-What are you doing, frog? You're too damn affectionate for your own good." Someone might take that the wrong way.

"It is called comforting, no? Or was that cuddling...? One of those." Francis smiled at him in the low light. He could barely make out Arthur reddening in response. "Quoi? Why are you blushing?"

"Because- cuddling!" Arthur whispered. "That's- either you're playing a very elaborate joke, or you are truly clueless about English."

Francis frowned. "Joke? Like prank? I thought we agreed no more pranks. Why do you think this cuddling is a prank?"

"Be- Because of what it is!"

"Et what is it? Can you show me?"

"Show you?!" Arthur's cheeks were flaming, but there was something else, something half-hidden in the depths of his eyes.

Francis took notice of it. "Oui. If you can."

Arthur blinked and then slowly moved closer to him. He wrapped his arms around Francis in return and moved one hand up to run it through the French boy's hair before letting it lie against the back of his head. He rested his head in the crook between Francis's neck and shoulder, and tangled their legs closer together. Finally, he nuzzled close to him.

Francis was pleasantly surprised, and he eagerly returned the sentiment. He pulled Arthur even closer to him and nuzzled to him as well, his nose ghosting gently across the English boy's neck.

"Wh-What are you doing?!" Arthur pulled away. "Francis- it's for couples!"

"Quoi?" Francis loosened his hold a bit, but didn't let go of him completely. "I like this."

"Cuddling is for couples!" Arthur hissed.

"Does it have to be?"

"What?" Arthur's jaw went slack and he blinked uncomprehendingly at him.

"Cuddling. Why can it not be done between friends?" Francis asked simply.

Arthur was silent for a moment. "Friends generally just don't."

"Ahh, but it can be?" When Arthur didn't answer, he pulled him closer again and stroked his hair. "Go back to sleep, Arthur. You need it, et we can sleep in tomorrow!"

Arthur huffed softly but relaxed against the other boy, closing his eyes. "...You really are too affectionate. Are all frogs like that?"

Francis snorted. "Sleep, Arthur."

The English boy eventually did fall asleep, and Francis followed soon after. But he was woken up again in the middle of the night by Arthur's trembling and his tightening grip on Francis's shirt. He looked down sadly at the sleeping blond and curled around him even more, placing Arthur's head on his own chest. He stroked the messy blond hair and murmured soft reassurances in both French and English.

After a few minutes of this Arthur quieted, and Francis smiled. The smile grew when he felt Arthur's fingers tangle deeper into his shirt. The French boy leaned down to press a soft kiss to his forehead and then drifted off once more. It was quiet for the rest of the night.

The next morning he was woken by Arthur shifting around underneath him. He let out a soft sigh and sleepily nuzzled closer to him. "Mmm...bonjour."

"G-Get off me, Frenchy." Arthur muttered.

Francis blinked in surprise and pulled back to look at him. Arthur was blushing horribly and averting his eyes, fidgeting the entire time. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, very well, now please get off."

"You had no problem with it last night."

"That was last night. While I thank you for your...comfort, it is time for you to get off."

Francis let out a sigh and moved away from him, though he didn't leave the bed. As he untangled their legs he allowed his foot to slide up Arthur's leg a bit, and was satisfied to see him flush more.

When Arthur had a clear shot out of the bed, he started to get up. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be late-"

"Oh, non." Francis quickly stopped him by grabbing his wrist. "You heard the nurse, you must rest tonight and today. Meaning no classes."

Arthur cursed and groaned. "Well at least let me go down to eat."

"No need." Francis tugged him back down with a smile. "I will cook for you, remember? I have those magic pots."

"Those." Arthur scowled at their mention.

Francis laughed. "Come on, rosbif. It will be good, I assure you."

"...Just this once." Arthur eventually conceded.

"Bon." Francis smiled and pushed him onto his back as he magically summoned the pots and ingredients.

He mixed the ingredients for a fresh fluffy omelet with cheese, bacon, peppers, and mushrooms, not failing to notice Arthur's eyes on him. So Francis exaggerated his motions, showing off his muscles and body. Arthur turned faintly red again, but curiously didn't look away.

"Voilà." Francis announced a few minutes later, placing the plate on the sheets in front of him.

"Thank you..." Arthur poked at it cautiously before taking a bite. "It's good-" He paused upon seeing the pots disappear. "Where's your portion?"

"I am not hungry." Francis smiled at him. "But merci."

"Nonsense." Arthur muttered, cutting the omelet in half. He stabbed a piece onto his fork and held it out to him.

"What?" Francis stared amusedly at the fork.

"...Breakfast's important." Arthur insisted, moving the fork closer.

Francis's eyes shone happily as he accepted the offering. "Merci." he repeated.

Arthur nodded. He alternately ate half himself and held out a bit to Francis, and together they cleaned out the plate. "You know..." he said as he handed him the plate. "You're really not too bad, for being French."

Francis paused, and then smile. "Merci. Et you are not bad for being English." The plate zoomed off and the French boy leaned in a bit closer to him, lips slightly parted and eyes flickering. Then he hesitated and leaned back again.

Arthur had paused when he did that, a small amount of hope fluttering in his stomach- but it quickly dimmed when Francis pulled back, and Arthur acted like it had never been there. "...Well I'm not staying here all day doing nothing." he muttered.

"You are not going to class either." Francis replied flatly.

"Well then, what do you propose we do?"

"I don't know." Francis sighed. "I suppose if you absolutely must, you can do some of the homework- but do not strain yourself."

"Don't worry, Mother." Arthur told him sarcastically, but immediately got up and went over to his bag.

Francis snorted. "I do not wish to be your mother, Arthur."

"Then what?" Arthur asked absently.

"Do you really wish to know?" Francis murmured softly.

"What? Did you say..." Arthur turned around and faltered slightly when he saw Francis looking at him intently. "...Francis?"

Francis blinked and the intensity vanished. "Hmm? Non...nothing." He got up and grabbed his own books, settling down on the free end of the desk.

Arthur gave him a strange look but then sat down opposite him. They worked in silence for the next two hours, with Arthur occasionally glancing out the window. He could see a sliver of the lake and he shuddered, looking out past it and to the forest. He had the perfect opportunity to go see his unicorns in daylight, but Francis...

"Arthur?" Francis asked, looking over at him when Arthur spaced out for the third time. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, I just...yeah." Arthur's attention snapped back to the scroll before him.

"Al-" Francis stopped short and regarded him. "Non, there is something."

Arthur hesitated. "There's someplace I'd like to go..."

"Where?"

"The Forest- don't give me that look, I've gone there plenty of times before!"

"But I thought you were a prefect?"

"...Shut up." Arthur flushed a bit. "But anyway, I usually can only go at night, but now..." He glanced out again.

"Why do you go there?"

"To visit the unicorns."

"Unicorns?" Francis chuckled. "Arthur-"

"Don't you even bloody go there. Unicorns exist, and I am not to old to see them."

Francis put his hands up in the surrender position, thought here was still a smirk on his face. "I am merely saying, I have never seen-"

"Well it's not my fault there aren't any unicorns in France. You're probably all too secretly perverted for them to thrive."

"Oh, because England is so much more pure." Francis rolled his eyes. "Et how do you propose we sneak out?"

"Invisibility Cloak." Arthur retrieved it from his spot under his pillow, but then stopped. "Wait. You want to come as well?"

"Of course. I'd like to see a unicorn."

"...Just don's scare them off."

Francis smiled. "I will do my best not to." he said, raising an eyebrow.

Arthur covered them both with the cloak and pulled it tight around their bodies. In order to be fully covered they had to be very close, neither of them minding that very much. But they didn't mention anything out loud. The English boy was extremely careful while getting out of the common room and castle, waiting until someone was using the doors before going through them. Once they were outside they picked up the pace and made a beeline fore the edge of the forest, giving the lake a wide berth.

Even in the daylight, the forest was dark. There was some light, but not much filtered through the trees. It was silent, except for the odd noises in the distance. Francis didn't like it very much, and he kept extremely close to Arthur.

"Don't worry, you're safe with me." Arthur reassured him.

"Ahh...what kind of creatures reside here?"

"Other than the unicorns there are centaurs, thestrals, giant spiders-"

"Giant spiders?!"

"Yes..." Arthur glanced at him. "What, are you afraid?"

"Oui." Francis muttered, shuddering.

"It's all right." Arthur told him softly. "We won't go near them. The unicorns tend to stay away from that part of the forest as well."

"They are smart."

Arthur chuckled and patted him. "You won't even see them." he promised.

He led them deeper and deeper into the forest, until they were walking in almost compete darkness. The noises around them lessened in volume but grew in number, but Arthur ignored them and marched on. The Invisibility Cloak was slung around Arthur's shoulders- it was no longer needed, as there was no one around to see them. Because of the effects of the cloak, the English wizard's body occasionally shimmered out of view, and Francis kept a firm grip in his hand the whole time.

At first Arthur was surprised, but he didn't let go. After about half an hour, they came to the clearing where the unicorns resided. Arthur was pleased to see two of the white creatures there.

"Mon Dieu..." Francis whispered, stopping and staring in awe.

"I know." Arthur said, smiling and moving forward.

The unicorns turned to look at them, and Arthur recognized the male and one of the females from his previous visit. The male was standing over the female, and there was a golden blob between the female's forelegs. Arthur's eyes widened as he stepped closer.

"You gave birth..." he murmured.

"Quoi?" Francis asked, coming up behind him.

"She was pregnant before- see that bit of gold? That's her baby." Arthur said lowly.

The mare nickered to them and stood up. The golden baby also staggered to its feet, promptly collapsing back onto the ground. The mare nudged it and it tried again, this time taking a step before its legs buckles and it fell again.

"Non-!" Francis lunged forward, as if to catch it, but was stopped by Arthur's hand on his arm.

"No, don't interfere. This is natural; he has to learn to stand on his own." Arthur said softly.

The little colt's ears swiveled forward and he focused on them. He stood up once more and this time stayed standing, walking towards them on shaky legs. But after a few steps he picked up confidence and speed, ending up trotting the last few feet. Arthur had frozen while Francis knelt and watched in awe. The colt walked right up to him and nuzzled to his hand.

"Bonjour." Francis whispered, very lightly stroking the baby unicorn's neck.

Arthur snapped out of his daze and watched the two of them in wonder. Unicorns were attracted by purity, the babies even more so. "Francis..." he murmured, feeling strange emotions whirling around in his stomach.

Francis glanced up at him and smiled. "Look at him, Arthur. Isn't he très mignon?"

"Yeah." By this time Arthur had learned some very basic French- or at least the words Francis used frequently. "But- But how? Why?" He moved closer slowly, and the colt sniffed at his outstretched hand, butting against it lightly. The English boy knelt down next to him and they looked down on the colt together.

Faint hoofbeats sounded out in front of them as the male and female approached the two humans to stand in front of them. The male was hovering above Arthur, while the mare was right next to Francis.

"Ahh...Arthur?" Francis glanced nervously at the pale white legs not a foot from his face.

"Don't worry, they won't do anything unless you threaten the baby." Arthur assured him, giving his arm a light squeeze.

Francis shot him a quick smile in return.

Arthur looked up and briefly stroked the male's neck. "This isn't your baby, is it boy? You're a bit too young." The unicorn snorted softly and shook his head, and Arthur smiled. "Hah, they put you on guard duty, didn't they?"

The male lowered his head and nuzzled Arthur's cheek before nudging him roughly, unbalancing him and sending him into Francis. The French boy lost his balance as well and tippled over, Arthur landing slightly on top of him. The male unicorn snorted at them and stepped away.

Francis's arms went around Arthur, holding the other boy close. "A-Arthur, mon Dieu..." He took a moment to catch his breath and then smiled softly up at him. "Bonjour."

Arthur blushed and tried to pull away, but the arms around him didn't let up. "D-Don't start Frenching me now, let me go!" He struggled a bit but then froze when his hips rubbed against Francis's.

"Mmm, non." Francis gently rubbed back, and ever so slightly brought their faces closer together.

"F-Francis?" Arthur questioned, his breath catching.

"I like you, Arthur." Francis murmured. "Very much."

The unicorns whinnied and stepped away from them, though more to give them some privacy than because of any impurity. The female nudged the colt up and led him away to suckle.

"W-What?" Arthur stared down at him.

"Oui." Francis gave him a hesitant smile. "You asked what I would like to be...et I would like to be more than friends." He leaned up and pressed a very light, very brief kiss to Arthur's lips.

Arthur didn't respond.

"A-Arthur?" Francis pulled back and looked at him with faint concern.

The green eyes blinked. "I-I have to get used to this..." Arthur murmured, slowly edging away. "I'm not sure how to feel about..."

Francis let him go. "I understand. Désolé, Arthur."

Arthur nodded and stood, gathering the cloak around his shoulders. "Come on." he said, gesturing for Francis to get under it with him.

"We are going back now?" Nevertheless, he got up.

"Yes. I have some work to do still." Arthur said softly. He stepped close to Francis again so they would be hidden, but not quite as close as before.

They made it back without incident and Arthur immediately buried himself under a pile of books and scrolls. Francis glanced at him with slight sadness in his eyes, but he didn't say anything. He instead busied himself with reading, though he did sneak occasional glances at the English boy. He blinked in surprise and smiled softly when he saw Arthur peeking at him as well once, but nothing was said.

It was slowly killing him inside the longer the silence stretched on. He had thought that Arthur would have said something by now about what had happened in the forest, even more so when he had caught the smaller wizard's glance. But there was nothing. All that day, they barely spoke. It was like any soft of friendship they had finally managed to build up had broken and they'd reverted to what they were like before. But Francis tried to stay as optimistic as possible; the silence couldn't go on forever.

---

Arthur received a nasty shock the next day in Potions. The exam had been moved up, and the Potions master still forced him to take it. The Slytherin had shot Francis a dark glare but then busied himself with the ingredients.

The potion they were making was a complex but quickly-brewed one. Francis had made it once or twice before back in France, so he had no problems with it. Arthur on the other hand, had some trouble figuring it out. The French boy hesitated, and then started making another potion in a small cauldron on the side.

It was a Mimicking Potion, invented in France a few years ago by a few students who wanted to pass their exams with minimal work. It was made with the potion that was desired to be mimicked, and then someone only had to pour a few drops into their own for their work to become like the original. Francis used his own potion and later, when Arthur was off digging after some final ingredient, added a few drops to Arthur's cauldron when no one was looking. The final ingredient Arthur would add would change the final potion a little bit, but it would still be correct. Francis was sure that at no point the potion should have been the deep blood red Arthur's was before the addition.

Arthur was slightly surprised, but incredibly pleased when he found the potion turned out rather correct after he gave it the final stir.

"Hmm. So you are slightly competent at this after all." the professor remarked as he passed.

"Of course I am." Arthur muttered once he was out of earshot. He scooped some up into his bottle and brought it up nose high in the air and chest puffed out.

Francis chuckled as he watched, having brought up his own a few moments before. "So it wasn't so bad, hmm?"

"No thanks to you- stop smirking!"

"Désolé, désolé." Francis regarded him seriously, though internally he was smiling and pleased.

Arthur looked at him for a moment more and then reddened, turning away to clean up and quickly leave once the bell rang. Francis watched him go sadly, his heart falling once more. But he shook his head and continued on his way as well, ignoring the looks the other students were giving him. It seemed everyone noticed whenever the two of them had another argument. Not that either of them tried to hide the fact that they were keeping their distance. Arthur more than Francis.

That night Arthur had nightmares again. Francis woke in the middle of the night to his panicked panting. He leaned over the edge and frowned when he saw him. The English blond was curled in on himself, fingers tightly gripping the sheets and sweat on his brow.

"Arthur?" Francis hesitated to go down to him because of what was going on between them, but a soft whimper sent him over the edge of the mattress and to his side. "Arthur, I am here, no worries." he murmured, sliding into the lower bed and gathering Arthur up into his arms.

"Fran...Francis..." Arthur woke and blinked hazily up at him, his arms moving to cling to Francis's shirt. "What- What are you doing?"

"You were having another nightmare." Francis brushed the damp hair from his forehead.

Arthur nodded and hesitated, and then curled closer to him. "Water- there was water- so much..." He shivered.

"Shh, shh, don't think about it." Francis tucked Arthur's body more under his own and rested his chin in his messy hair. "Try to go back to sleep now, cher."

"The water...it might come back-"

"I will keep it away, Arthur, but you must sleep." Francis told him gently.

Arthur was silent for a long time, and Francis thought he had gone back to sleep until he spoke. "...You really do like me, don't you?" He sounded more awake now, and he moved away so they were facing each other.

"Oui. Why would I lie?"

"I dunno. I guess I just...couldn't believe it."

"Do you believe it now?"

"More so."

"Arthur...may I kiss you?" Francis whispered.

The English boy stayed silent for a moment and then gave an almost imperceptible nod, one that Francis more sensed and felt than saw. Green eyes fluttered closed.

Francis smiled softly and shifted closer to he was lightly straddling Arthur, their bodies pressed flush together. He bent down and breathed on Arthur's lips for a moment before brushing against them with his own. He was pleasantly surprised to find Arthur pushing back against him so in response he deepened the kiss, his arms going around the smaller boy's neck. He pulled back not long after.

"What, can't hold out for any longer?" Arthur whispered breathlessly to him.

"Mmm, from the sound of it you would not be able to take much more yourself." Francis replied in a similar tone. "But non, I stopped because you should try to sleep now." He rolled off and curled around him again, intertwining their legs together.

Arthur looked as if he were about to protest, but in the end only nodded. He leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to Francis's cheek before closing his eyes and nodding off.

Francis smiled again and waited until he was sure Arthur was sleeping peacefully before relaxing and falling asleep himself.

---

The other teachers also seemed to be giving out exams at this time, something that had Arthur stressed out. Francis didn't understand why; other than Potions, the English wizard excelled at every subject. He tried to help out where he could, studying with him (usually with Arthur ending up on his lap) and helping him relax.

"Cher, stop stressing yourself, you will do fine." he murmured each night before an exam, pressing a kiss to his hairline.

"Thank you." Arthur would murmur back, leaning into him a bit more.

And when all the exams were over, Arthur had to admit Francis had been right. "That wasn't so bad, I suppose."

Francis smiled, hiding his inner frustrations. He knew the material, but the English grammar still sometimes threw him off, so if he didn't do well that would most likely be the cause. "I told you, cher."

Arthur huffed at him, and then became strangely nervous. "So you heard about the ball they're throwing..."

The school didn't usually throw parties or balls other than the Halloween or Christmas feast in the Great Hall, but they had made an exception because of the French guests. Plus, they felt that everyone could use a bit of a break, especially after so many exams. It was to be held that Friday evening and everyone could come and, if they wanted to, bring a date.

"Oui, what about it?" Francis had a vague idea of where this was going.

"W-Would you like to go with me?" Arthur asked, fidgeting.

Francis placed his hands on Arthur's shoulders to calm him down. "I thought that to be expected." he murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I would love to go with you."

"Expected? I don't know whether I should be offended or pleased." Arthur muttered, hugging him.

"Pleased." Francis said with a chuckle.

"Hmph. Do you even have dress robes?"

"Of course. Would you like to see them?"

"No, save it for the ball."

Francis tilted his head down. "More pleasure for you when you finally see them, hmm? And take it off after..." he whispered into Arthur's ear.

Arthur stiffened and blushed. "Y-You-!" He sputtered for a while and finally whacked him. "Don't assume I have a thing for formal wear just because I'm English!"

"Then you don't?"

"That's not the point." Arthur muttered, but he glanced at the closet.

"That is my question."

"Fine, I do!"

Francis chuckled. "That is nothing to be ashamed of." he said kindly. His eyes lighted on a stack of towels and he smiled again. "Arthur?"

"What?"

"Are you in the mood for a bath?"

"What?" Arthur repeated, staring at him.

"Come on, cher." Francis coaxed. "That bathtub there is much longer than for only one person. Et you need to relax after the examens. It will be fun."

"...Oh, all right. I don't see the harm in that." Arthur finally conceded.

Francis smiled brilliantly and kissed his cheek. "Bon." He stood and gathered up Arthur's things and his own before holding out a hand to him. "Allons-y."

"You know I still can't understand French." Arthur muttered, but took it with a small smile and allowed Francis to pull him away.

"I think that is not quite as true as you would like it to be."

Arthur huffed at him. He let go of the French boy's hand when they got out to the common room and hallway, not used to showing affection in public. If Francis had something to say on the matter, he didn't voice his words. The bathroom was empty when they got into it, and Arthur locked the door while Francis moved over to the various taps lining the pool-sized bathtub.

"Would you like bubbles, cher?" he asked, his hand hovering over one of the handles.

Arthur glanced over his shoulder at him and raised an eyebrow. "You're making a bubble bath?"

"Oui!" Francis said happily. "There's nothing more relaxing than a bubble bath with your amour."

Arthur blushed and sputtered for a moment. "I-I suppose." He slipped off his robes and then started unbuttoning the shirt he had on underneath. "Oi, look away!"

Francis chuckled and looked out the window as he filled the bathtub to the brim with water and bubbles and rose scent. He glanced back about five minutes later to find Arthur sitting wrapped up in a towel at the edge of the tub, staring at the surface of the water. He immediately rose and walked over to him, sitting down next to him and slinging an arm across his shoulders. "Arthur?" he asked quietly, resting his cheek against the other boy's neck.

"S-Sorry, I just...forgot how big this place was." He shrugged faintly.

"Ahh. Do not worry cher, I won't let anything happen to you." Francis stood and stripped before slipping into the water. He swam a step or two and then stood up, the water reaching up to his chest. "See? And it gets even more shallow over there."

Arthur watched him for a moment and then dipped his head in a brief nod. "Catch me." he said, stepping in.

Francis quickly moved forward to steady him. His arms went around Arthur's shoulders and he gently caressed the skin as he tugged him away from the edge. The bubbles parted around them, and Francis searched for a spot for them to sit. Eventually he found some grooves on the side that were perfect. He slipped into one of them and placed Arthur on his lap.

Arthur blushed as his butt brushed against Francis's crotch, but Francis didn't say anything so neither did he. He settled down and leaned back against his chest so he could nuzzle against his small scruff of a beard.

"Mmm?" Francis leaned down to nuzzle him back. "Are you getting relaxed?"

"Admittedly yes." Arthur murmured. He scooped up a handful of bubbles and sniffed it. "Roses?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Why not?" Francis blew them out of his cupped hand and reached out to a nearby faucet for some body wash. He poured the scented liquid onto the back of Arthur's shoulders- the English boy shivering as the wet slipped across his skin- and started gently rubbing it into him. He felt Arthur sigh and lean more against him so in response he pressed down a little bit harder.

"I-I don't know." Arthur felt his limbs melt and felt as if he could drift away were Francis not holding onto him. "Mmm, yes, keep doing that."

Francis's hands slipped under the water to move along his sides and down to his hips. "My, aren't we demanding." he murmured, looping down to brush against his treasure trail and then back up to his ribs.

Arthur squirmed and let out a low moan. "Francis- Francis, no. Not here. Not now."

"All right." Francis nuzzled to him again and slipped out from under him. He took more body wash and lifted one of Arthur's legs out of the water so he could wash it. Arthur had to grab onto the ledge to keep his balance and Francis made sure to go carefully, kissing his lower thigh when he rinsed it off.

"Y-You- Don't tempt me!" Arthur went red, wriggling in his place more. "I swear I've never seen bathing made so...so sexual!"

"Ahh, so you are tempted?"

"That's not what I meant!"

Francis chuckled and quickly took care of the other leg, making less of a fuss over it. He reached for more body wash to clean himself, but Arthur stopped him.

"Allow me."

And Arthur proceeded to tease him horribly, somehow managing to hit all of his sensitive spots with feather-light touches. Francis itched to respond and would have had he not seen the teasing glint in Arthur's eye. After that he resolved not to move or make a sound but it was so damned hard because Arthur's hands felt so good, and eventually he couldn't hold back a tiny moan.

"Oh?" Arthur asked, looking the image of innocence. "Are you tempted?"

Francis shot him a soft glare. "Tais-toi. You are a petit bâtard, Arthur, you know that?"

Arthur responded by delicately brushing against the curve of his hips.

"A-Ahh..." Francis pinned him to the edge of the bathtub and crashed their lips together, his mouth moving hungrily against Arthur's. The little wave formed by him surging forward lapped against them a few moments later, wetting their shoulders and parts of their necks.

Arthur's arms went around Francis's shoulders and he pressed back eagerly, his tongue brushing against the French boy's lips before retreating back. He warded off the tongue trying to invade his mouth before pulling away completely. "Francis..." he gasped out.

"Yes?" Francis settled Arthur onto his lap again.

"Are we done here? The water is getting cold." Arthur huddled more to him and brushed a patch of bubbles from his shoulder.

"Thinking of the warm, cozy bed, are we?" Francis smiled and guided him over to where their towels were, helping him out before climbing out himself.

"...Maybe." Arthur immediately covered himself and tossed a towel to the other boy.

Francis caught it and laughed, wrapping it around his waist. He used a smaller one to dry off and then put his clothes on. When he straightened he saw Arthur on the other side of the pool, watching with satisfaction as the water level dropped. The big golden plug was in his hands. "Ready?" he called out.

Arthur glanced at him and nodded, dropping the plug and walking to him. "Let's go, someone else might want to use this." He unlocked the door and slipped out, his hand firmly wrapped around Francis's.

"Would you like to sleep alone tonight?" Francis asked softly when they were back in the room. He took their towels and hung them up before turning back to Arthur.

The Slytherin was already under the covers. "No. Get in here."

Francis raised an eyebrow at the command but nevertheless approached.

"The nightmares might come back." Arthur explained stiffly.

"Mhm, of course." Francis smirked as he slid in next to him and put his arms around him.

"Shut up." Arthur muttered into his shirt.

"Bonne nuit, amour." Francis kissed his forehead and settled down, relaxing against the pillows.

"Good night, frog..." Seconds later, he was asleep.

Thankfully that night they both slept soundly. Francis stayed up later just to make sure, and the next morning he woke first. For a few minutes he just looked down at his sleeping companion, and then gently shook him. "Arthur? Wake yourself."

Arthur stirred, blinking and yawning. "Good morning."

"Good morning, cher." Francis gave him a smile. "How did you sleep?"

"No nightmares." Arthur replied. "Thank you."

"Of course. Come now, breakfast is waiting." He slid out of bed and dressed, then leaning against the door as Arthur staggered about, dressing and moaning at his unruly hair. "Arthur, I do not think your glare will scare it into laying flat."

Arthur looked away from the mirror and threw his brush down with a huff and another scowl, this time in Francis's direction. "One day..." he muttered.

"That day is obviously not today, sourcils. Come on, or we will be late."

The Great Hall was buzzing with chatter and students rushing around trying to get dates for the dance. A few people looked over at Francis but he took Arthur's hand into his own and they backed off. Since the dance was in two days the professors didn't really assign homework, nor did they do much in class, but there was a committee for decoration and other preparations that everyone was encouraged to join.

"Look, Arthur, there's an option of helping them cook!" Francis said excitedly, looking over the list of activities. "I think I will go do it."

"If you want."

Francis glanced at him. "Are you going to do anything?"

"I might. Or I'll go to the library and read."

Francis nodded and signed up when the opportunity presented itself. He went off to the kitchens soon after, leaving Arthur alone.

True to his word Arthur went to the library and his classes- Francis was excused because he was helping- and he didn't see the French boy until dinner. Francis was smiling and there was a spot of flour on the side of his cheek, but Arthur waited until they were alone to gently clean it off.

"Oh. Merci." Francis said as Arthur pulled away with the napkin.

"No problem." Arthur murmured, leaning in to quickly kiss and lick the spot.

"Arthur?" Francis smirked at him. "Oh, is that how it is?" He dipped down to press kisses to Arthur's neck, smirking more broadly as Arthur squirmed underneath him.

The English boy finally managed to scoot away from him, moving to the other side to the bed. He let out a moan of despair as Francis followed, and he placed his foot on the other boy's shoulder in an attempt to stop him. "Francis, what's gotten into you?"

"Nothing. I am just happy." Francis took hold of Arthur's leg and kissed up the calf and thigh, cursing the fabric surrounding it but not being able to do anything about it. He didn't want to push any boundaries and undress Arthur yet.

"You- You have a very affectionate way of expressing that." Arthur briefly closed his eyes and hooked his other leg around Francis's waist.

"Je suis français." Francis murmured, moving up and lowering the leg he had in his hands so he was resting comfortably on top of Arthur with the smaller boy's legs around his middle.

They kissed and cuddled in that position before finally getting ready for bed, Arthur falling asleep with Francis stroking his hair. The next day passed in the same fashion, except Francis left right after dinner and didn't get back until much later.

"Where were you?" Arthur was already changed and under the covers, and he looked as if he had just been about to fall asleep.

"Speaking with the Headmaster."

"Why?"

"Technical matters. Do not concern yourself." Having changed, Francis slipped in next to him, not even bothering to ask anymore. He knew what the answer would be.

"Oh, all right." Arthur curled into him and closed his eyes. "Did you resolve it, at least?"

"Oui, I believe I did." Francis said with a smile. "Bonne nuit."

---

"Frog, have you seen my bowtie?" Arthur called through the blanket curtain. He had insisted on it being hung so they wouldn't see each other until they were both fully dressed.

"Why do you insist on naming me that?"

"Just because you're my boyfriend doesn't change the fact that you are one." Arthur told him matter-of-factly. "The bowtie?"

The curtain rustled and Francis stuck his head around it. "Boyfriend?" He received a faceful of cloth as Arthur flung a spare robe at him.

"Don't bloody look!" Arthur chided. "And yes, boyfriend, what else?"

Francis withdrew. "I wasn't sure if you would want to apply the term but oui. Boyfriend. Amour."

Oh bloody hell, Arthur could hear his smile and happiness. "Yes, yes. The bowtie, please, love."

The green and silver bowtie sailed over the blanket and Arthur caught it and put it on. It was the final thing he needed to do, so he examined himself in the mirror for the remainder of the time.

"Are you done, Arthur?" Francis called a few minutes later.

"Yes." He pulled the curtain down and stared.

Francis's dress robes were black and fitted on top, flaring out a bit on the bottom. They were short, too, the top being more like a tunic and reaching down to his mid-thighs. There were periwinkle-blue accents all over, and he was wearing black pants.

By comparison, Arthur felt almost underdressed. His robes looked like normal ones, long and black. The only difference was that they looked a bit more formal on top and had green and silver accents. Arthur self-consciously straightened it and turned away. "You look nice." he murmured. "Let's go."

"Hey, you look nice too." Francis caught his arm and turned him back around. He ran his eyes up and down Arthur's body appreciatively. "Very nice." he said, straightening the bowtie and then kissing him.

"Mmm, thank you." Arthur said as he pulled away, his confidence boosted a little bit by Francis's words. "But we really should go, before we're late."

Francis nodded and linked arms with him as they waked down. They joined the crowd of people heading in the direction of the Great Hall, which had been converted into a ballroom. There were tables for groups and tables for pairs scattered around the outside of the room, while the middle was cleared for a dance floor. Since the two of them were actually pretty early, they managed to snag one of the tables for two, little reservation cards with their names on them appearing when they sat down.

"It is dîner first, right?" Francis asked.

"Yes. I assume they'll serve it before the dancing starts."

Francis nodded again and settled down to wait, reaching across the table to take hold of Arthur's hand. The English boy started and raised an eyebrow curiously, but Francis just smiled and gave it a soft squeeze. Within the next fifteen minutes everyone who was attending had filled in. The food was a mixture of French and English cuisine, something that Francis appreciated just a bit more than Arthur.

"Come on, cher, don't tell me you didn't enjoy it at all." Francis coaxed. After all, he'd helped with ideas and the preparations.

Arthur gave him a look and sighed when Francis only smiled and nodded at him. "Oh fine, I suppose it wasn't too bad."

Francis's smile widened and then he turned towards the stage as a band started playing. There were some slower songs at first, and the French boy stood up when he recognized the tune. "Would you like to dance?" he asked, extending an arm out to Arthur.

"Dance?" Arthur looked at him and blinked.

"Oui." Francis took hold of his hand and tugged him up, pleased when Arthur didn't resist too much. He led them to the dance floor and took up position, one hand in Arthur's and the other on the other boy's hip.

If Arthur was dissatisfied by his lack of leading, he didn't protest other than to wriggle slightly. But then he settled and allowed Francis to lead, and they started moving gracefully across the floor. Arthur could dance- as in he knew the basic steps and routine- but Francis was a natural. He moved fluidly and made the whole dance seem easy.

"You lead well." Arthur had to admit.

"Merci." Francis smiled. "I would rather no one else was following except you."

Arthur blushed and then let out a soft squeak as he was suddenly dipped. He gave Francis a soft glare when he got his breath back, but it melted from his face when he was kissed.

"Mmm, you know when I was speaking with the Headmaster?"

"Yes...?" Arthur looked up curiously.

"I have gotten him et my Headmistress to agree to my transfer here for next year et next semester."

Arthur stared at him.

Francis laughed and leaned down to kiss his cheek. "I knew you would be worrying et stressing and besides, I don't have a problem with staying and completing my schooling here. My grades are good, and the professors expressed they were okay with it."

"Really?" Arthur smiled hopefully.

"Oui. So there is no worrying about the next year."

"You'd do that?" Arthur asked in a low voice. "For- for me?"

The song changed and Francis slowed, placing both hands on Arthur's shoulders so they were rocking in place. He chuckled a bit. "Who else would save you from this bland English cooking?"

"Oi." Arthur lightly pinched him. "I've lived off that cooking for all of my life."

Francis heaved an exaggerated tragic sigh. "I know. I am hoping it is not too late for you, mon ami."

"Git." Arthur whacked him, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Mhm." Francis smiled teasingly at him and stepped a bit closer to him, resting his chin on his hair. "Je t'aime..." he murmured as they continued to sway beneath the twinkling lights of the enchanted ceiling.

---

A/N: Ending's a bit lame and cheesy, but I couldn't think of a better way to end it so there it is.

And of course Arthur goes to the unicorns, they're very important too- they show that their love is pure, uncorrupted especially from Francis's end (coughcough)

Hope ya liked it.