The Potterverse belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Free! does not belong to me. Neither does High Speed!

Prelude

.

Among the places Haruka didn't want to be in that moment was Diagon Alley.

He had been delighted the first time he saw it, of course– its many shops, the countless magical items one could buy with enough money, the excitement attached to the children's ecstatic cries; even though Haruka wasn't fond of crowded, loud places, he had actually enjoyed that first glimpse of the wizarding world grabbing Makoto's arm to not get lost among so many people.

Almost eight years later, Haruka found himself willing to do anything to have the warmth he had once felt within his chest back. Diagon Alley had become a silent, cold place, where the few people that dared go outside walked fast and with a guarded, almost fearful expression on their faces. The few children he saw looked around wide-eyed, holding onto their parents' hands with sweaty fingers.

It wasn't fair. They shouldn't see the wizarding world at its worst.

Haruka walked quickly too, but for a entirely different reason. He was late, and even though that didn't usually bother him, Seijuurou's complaints about his supposed bad manners and Nao's disapproving looks surely did. Maybe he had been staring at that new broom for too long.

Not that he minded. Haruka knew flying wouldn't help him forget about everything –about the war, about the Order, about him–, but he could ignore it, at least. He liked the familiar feeling of his old broom, but it was too slow now. Haruka wanted speed– wanted the feeling of the wind on his face, wanted breathing fresh, clean air; but what he wanted the most was to fly so fast he wouldn't see anything when he looked back.

If only it were that easy.

Haruka almost ran the last few meters until he reached Knocturn Alley, where he could Disapparate. Everyone knew many Death Eaters were hiding there, but the Ministry had too many connections with pure-blood families to cast Anti-Disapparition Jinxes yet.

He was glad there was nobody to see him when he stopped in front of Borgin and Burkes; he didn't want to get into unnecessary trouble. He closed his eyes, turned around the spot and Apparated some streets away from the Order's headquarters.

Finding out the meeting had been delayed for some hours due to Seijuurou's work was a pleasant surprise. Haruka sat down next to Makoto, refusing to meet his friend's gaze as he mumbled a greeting loud enough for Makoto to hear him. He then proceeded to ignore Kisumi. Which, as he should have learnt after seven years sharing most classes with him, never offended Kisumi enough to stop testing his patience.

Haruka didn't really know why Kisumi and Makoto had joined the Order. They both came from ancient pure-blood families, and it wasn't likely that Voldemort's minions would come after them. He thought Kisumi wanted to play hero, but why Makoto (easily frightened, almost coward Makoto) wanted to fight too was a mystery.

Haruka himself didn't want to be there. Having muggle parents made him an obvious target for Death Eaters, and if it were for him he would've come back to his little muggle town long ago. But...

But Makoto. Haruka didn't want to leave him alone when he put himself continuously in danger; he didn't want to lose him. The murder of his grandmother had been painful enough.

And, well.

Rin too.

Mudblood.

Haruka tensed at the insult. The voice was only in his head, but he had heard it before, and he didn't need anyone to know. He didn't care, anyway. He was what he was, and people saying it didn't offend him. What bothered him wasn't the word.

It was the person who had said it.

.

Rin came home late. Again.

He didn't spend much time with his family those days; but when his mother made him promise he'd visit her and Gou he didn't have much of an option. But even less likely was for him to do what he really wanted at that point, so he didn't finish his work until late at night.

There were no lights on; Rin would have been surprised otherwise. He tiptoed his way into his mother's house, not even breathing in fear of waking her or Gou up. He couldn't stand seeing them right now, couldn't force them to meet his eyes. He had the feeling they would know what he had done, what he couldn't help but doing now.

Rin knew his mother would be angry the next morning. She thought her son spent his days after graduation partying, and Rin didn't have the heart to tell her that he actually spent his days watching his friends torture and kill muggles (like her).

"You're so late."

Rin, already with his hand around his bedroom's door handle, stiffened at his sister's sleepy, bothered voice. He didn't know if he was imagining it, but Gou sounded accusatory. As if she knew everything Rin couldn't say.

He didn't dare turn to her; he felt she would find out if he did.

"Sorry."

"Where were you?"

Rin huffed. "With my friends."

Gou inhaled sharply.

"Your friends? Do you mean Haru––"

"I said friends." Rin couldn't help but raise his voice a little. "Haru and the others aren't– Not that– not him. He's not my friend, he's nothing," he concluded, not knowing why he was trying so hard to explain his point. He didn't need to convince anyone. He knew the people he once considered friends didn't care about him anymore, and that should be enough… right? "Are you happy now?"

"No." Gou's tone was surprisingly sharp. "You're being stupid and don't want to see that those friends of yours probably work for You-Know-Who."

I know, Rin wanted to yell. I know better than you think.

"Stop acting like Mum. I know what I'm doing."

"Of course you do; you're always right, aren't you?" Gou snapped, retreating into her bedroom and closing the door behind her.

Rin didn't sleep for the rest of the night. It wasn't a foreign feeling –sleep was something he had been getting less and less used to for the last year–, but he was usually careful not to let memories haunt him; lately he even had started to take Sleeping Draught to enjoy black, empty nights.

He hadn't brought any with him, though, which was the reason Rin spent hours staring at the ceiling, trying to breathe despite the thoughts pressing against his chest, the air that seemed thick with so many regrets he didn't allow himself to think about under the sun. Words whispered behind his back, loud enough for him to hear; judging glares burning holes in his chest; friends, new friends…

Haruka…

You're annoying.

Rin sat up abruptly, desperately gasping to get air as he shook his head. He didn't need those people anymore, he didn't want anything from them; even if he wasn't entirely happy with his life, it was what he'd chosen and it didn't matter to them.

Rin didn't matter.

But there had been a moment, in the middle of a heated argument in an empty restroom, when Haruka's usual indifferent expression had turned into something different, when Rin had let himself believe he was at least a bit important.

Author's note: Someone [glares at Elena] made me think about the Free! characters in the Potterverse. So this story happened.

It would be nice if you took two minutes to leave a comment, by the way. Favourites/Follows are boring and don't really mean anything.