Written for Hogwarts' Religious Education Assignment: Task 8: Totems - Write about someone's first time producing a Patronus.
Also for the Auction Challenge: (character) Edgar Bones, the Writing Club - Character Appreciation: (character) Edgar Bones, Shannon's Showcase: Finland - Word: Light, Sexuality: LGBT representation, Book Club: Tala: (plot point) teaching someone something, (word) safe, (action) smiling, Lyric Alley: And you told me I should concentrate, National Photography Month: Lifestyle Photography - Write about a 'slice of life'.
Word count: 1006
eternity in an hour
The thing is, Edgar is a good student. He's good at Charms, and he's good at Defense — he's even good at Potions, but with the way Slughorn always plays favorites that's nothing too surprising, because the man like Edgar's connections enough to go easy on him and give him tips — but still, for some reason, this spell stumps him.
He growls and slashes his wand downward again. "Expecto Patronum!"
Predictably, all that happens is a measly trail of silvery mist falling down from his wand, dispersing before it even hits the ground.
A low chuckle, clearly muffled by a hand, echoes behind him, and Edgar whirls around with a scowl.
"I hate you," he says, faced with his boyfriend's smiling face.
Fabian laughs. "No, you love me."
Edgar smiles back because, yes he does — but still, it's a little hard to remember that when Fabian is laughing at him.
He glares. "No, I don't," he lies. "Besides, you're my boyfriend. You're supposed to support me, not — not mock me."
Fabian's eyes soften and he slides down from the table he'd been sitting on.
Not for the first time since they came here, Edgar mentally thanks his lucky stars for leading them to this empty, abandoned classroom.
It's so much easier to practice spells here than in the Hufflepuff Common Room or, Merlin forbid, the Gryffindor one — Edgar tried it once and nothing, nothing, will make him try again — and there is nobody to judge them for perching on the furniture, which is something Fabian can never seem to resist.
(He tried it once in the Library and almost got kicked out for it, but while their teachers have mostly gotten used to Fabian's odd sitting habits, they usually drew the line at sitting somewhere other than the chair.)
"I'm not mocking you," Fabian replies, stepping closer and closer until he's standing right next to Edgar's still half-raised wand arm. "But I do think you're being a little ridiculous. You're trying to learn the Patronus Charm, Edgar. That's not even on the curriculum."
Edgar feels himself pout. "But you can do it. And it'll be extra-credit for our NEWTs."
Fabian shrugs. "You still don't have to do this. Plenty of people can't cast a Patronus, you know."
Edgar simply stares at him. He doesn't say it, but they both know what the other is thinking about.
The war. The one no one really wants to name that, that no one wants to admit exists, and yet it is still there. Fabian and Edgar are graduating at the end of the year, in less than six months, and Edgar already knows that they'll be fighting in it.
Any small advantage could prove life-saving then, can help keep them safe, which is why Edgar simply has to master this spell.
Fabian sighs and puts a hand on Edgar's arm, pushing it down gently. "Fine, fine. I'll help you." He takes a step back. "Show me how you cast it again? Please?"
The focused air Fabian takes when he gets into teaching mode is terribly attractive, but Edgar tears his eyes away and focuses back on his spell.
A happy memory, he knows, is what fuels the spell, and so he lets that memory come to the forefront of his mind, holding it tightly as he speaks the incantation again.
But just like earlier, all he gets is a small spattering of glittering light that dies down too quickly to be any good.
"Oh," Fabian says. "I see."
"I'm glad one of us does, because I have no idea what I'm doing wrong," Edgar replies, hissing the last part through his teeth as he crosses his arms. He arches an eyebrow at Fabian. "So, what is it? What am I doing wrong?"
"Your technique is perfect," Fabian replies, before chagrin crosses over his face. "But… What memory are you using?"
Edgar's throat locks up. "What memory are you using?" he shoots back before he can think better of it.
(Because if he had, he'd remember that Fabian has no shame and no chill, and even less care for norms or propriety.)
"I think about you," Fabian replies. He says like it's an evidence, like of course his happiest memories involve Edgar, and Edgar… Edgar never knows how to handle this kind of honesty.
Anything he could say to that feels inappropriate, so Edgar stays silent.
He had been thinking about his family as he cast the spell. About last summer, when Edmund and Amelia had teamed up to try to dunk him into the pond, and how that had ended in a free for all water fight.
But…
I think about you. Fabian's words echo in his mind, curling around his thoughts, and Edgar thinks about another summer.
Not one that he's lived through — not yet anyway — but one that he might, one day.
He thinks about his family still, about his siblings, but this time, he pictures someone else too, standing by his side, red hair ruffled slightly by a soft breeze.
His heart feels two sizes too big for his chest, but when he raises his wand and casts the spell, this time he doesn't get only sparks.
Instead, a large cloud of silvery mists pools out of his wand, and it coalesces into something small, with four legs and a tail and a head, and his Patronus is definitely corporeal.
It is also definitely a badger, and Edgar knows Fabian is about to lose it before he even hears the laughter.
"Congrats, Edgar," Fabian manages through his chuckles, and Edgar would glare, he really would, but he's still riding the high of managing to produce a proper Patronus for the first time. "You did it."
"Thanks," he says instead, knocking their shoulders together gently. "I couldn't have done it without you."
Fabian's face softens, and impossibly, Edgar feels like his heart is still swelling in his chest.
He can't wait to make that future he dreamed about come true.