A/N - Another fic courtesy of the prompts over at first_order. It's a problem, I know. But it's quite a lot of fun. Any rate, my prompts this time were Gideon Prewett and You forgot to listen. So read, review, enjoy, and other such awesome things. Also, I'm aware the years might be wrong for a couple of things, but I claim poetic license lol.
Footsteps thundered somewhere overhead, pounding down the wooden steps with careless abandon. Gideon Prewett pressed himself further into the shadows within the closet, watching through the crack in the door as his pursuers halted in the hallway.
"Maybe he went outside?"
"I dunno, I guess he could have."
"Did anybody check downstairs?"
The investigation of downstairs seemed to be a matter of some issue as the duo in the hall argued ferociously for a moment about whose responsibility that had been. With a great, long-suffering sigh, the footsteps bounded off the floorboards once more, descending down into the house below. Slowly, smirking to himself, Gideon pushed the door to the closet open a little further, tapping his wand against the hinges to prevent the tell-tale squeak that would give him away. Chattering voices echoed up from the kitchen, a rush of orders and plans and words that tumbled over each other, impossible to hear clearly. Watching the stairs as he backed away, Gideon slowly reached behind him, feeling for the handle of the door he knew ought to be there. Cold metal met his fingertips as a door opened and slammed shut somewhere below. Smirking again, feeling quite satisfied now, Gideon turned his back to the stairs and tapped his wand to the lock. Magic rushed through the air and the latch lifted with a click, and Gideon entered the room without a sound.
The place had been closed up for quite some time, smelling stiff and old and unused, lacking the warmth that inhabited the rest of the house. That was just as well, Gideon supposed, tucking his wand into his pocket and crossing the room in a few easy strides. Two beds rested against opposite walls, a large window stretched between them. Books and papers littered the floor, and a faded Quidditch players flew in steady circles from a charmed poster. The prize, however, lay in the bureau on the far side of the room, if Gideon recalled correctly. He ignored the thick layer of dust coating the top of the bureau, instead tugging at the top drawer which seemed to be refusing to budge. Exasperated and suddenly aware that he was sweating, Gideon tugged his wand free once more, fingers fumbling twice as he murmured a few incantations over the stubborn piece of furniture. With no further physical effort required, the drawer sprung open in a cloud of dust and parchment, and Gideon smiled to himself as he dug through the papers and retrieved what he had come for. A battered gold watch, lined with dust and lack of use, still attached to a thin gold chain. And still, Gideon noted proudly, ticking quite dutifully, each passing second thrumming like a heartbeat in his palm.
He tucked the item carefully into the pocket of his cloak, shutting and resealing the drawer as he did. Unfortunately, before he had a chance to turn around, something heavy hit him behind the knees, sending him tumbling to the floor. His wand skittered away out of reach, and then there was someone situated on his back, pining him to the ground. Gideon swore even as the face of his nine year old nephew descended into view.
"We found you!" Bill Weasley declared proudly, handsome face spread into a wide grin.
"I suppose you did," Gideon laughed, rolling and catching the someone on his back by surprise. He had lifted Charlie upside down before the six year old even had time to let out a startled yelp.
"I said to look here!" Charlie insisted, crossing his arms and pouting even as the blood ran to his face. "I helped!"
"Of course you did," Gideon agreed, setting Charlie upright on the floor in case of further protest. Bill had turned his attention to the messy room, eyes wide and thoughtful.
"How did you get in here? Mum and Dad said we aren't supposed to play in this room."
"Well, I think your mum wouldn't mind if I visited my old room, would she?" Gideon asked cheerily, some part of him hoping Molly really would not mind that he had managed to break yet another household rule. Bill and Charlie, however, seemed quite impressed at the discovery that the room had once belonged to Uncle Gideon despite the current messy state.
"Was it really your room?" Charlie prodded at a book with his foot, attention on the dragon that swirled and flew across the cover.
"For awhile, mine and Uncle Fabian's. But we live in our flat in London now, remember," Gideon grasped both his nephews by the shoulder and steered them gently towards the door.
"Your special house, next to all the nice Muggles," Bill supplied cheerily. "And we can't do any magic there, because it's secret."
"Yes, that's it exactly," Gideon deposited the boys in the hallway and shut the door behind him, tapping the lock with his wand once more. If he was lucky, dust would refill the tracks he had left, and Molly would never know anyone had been in the room at all.
"You're a good hider Uncle Gideon," Charlie said firmly. "We almost couldn't find you."
"Why thank you. How did you find me then?" Gideon grinned and pushed the closet door closed with one hand.
"You forgot to listen, of course," Bill seemed to think this was the most obvious thing in the world, and Gideon was inclined to agree. "We came back up the stairs and I even had to shush Charlie but you didn't hear us."
Gideon laughed at this, picturing his nephews creeping up on him, tiptoes and whispers and wide eyes.
"I'll pay better attention next time," he promised.
"Good," Charlie's mouth settled into a firm line, an oddly serious look on a six year old boy. "Cause I don't want the bad people to get you."
"What bad people?" Gideon frowned now, stooping down to eye level with the boys. Charlie stared down at the floor, face reddening and mumbling softly. Bill's eyes shifted from his brother to his uncle before he spoke.
"All those bad people that Mum and Dad talk about. The ones who make the good people go away."
"We don't want you to go away Uncle Gideon!" Charlie wailed suddenly, eyes huge and watery as tears threatened. Gideon grabbed the boy in a tight hug, lifting him off the floor in a smooth, easy motion.
"It's alright Charlie, it's alright. I'm not going to go away. I won't let the bad people get me."
"You won't forget to listen for them?" Charlie sniffled, wiping at his nose.
"I won't forget," Gideon smiled gently and set his nephew, then hugged Bill, who was bravely working to pretend he was not crying at all. "There now, cheer up you two. Hide and seek's meant to be fun."
Both boys laughed at this, but the sound was hollow and entirely different from the tumbling, childish laughter that had echoed down the stairs not long ago. Gideon ran a hand through his hair and sighed.
"Why don't we see if your Mum's got any cookies lying around?" he suggested. Bill and Charlie both seemed to brighten considerably at this prospect, racing around him and down the stairs.
"Come on Uncle Gideon," Bill waved from halfway down the steps, eager and smiling once more.
"I'm coming," Gideon said, working up a smile and laugh sheerly for the benefit of his nephew. The war had come too close to home if little boys were worried their uncles would disappear forever. Gideon reckoned he ought to have a talk with Molly after dinner, once Fabian was there to back him up. For now, he was content to wander down the stairs and into the kitchen, allowing the clean, soapy scent to wash over him. There was indeed a pile of cookies on the table, and Bill and Charlie had maneuvered a chair into place in order to reach their prize. Gideon watched from the doorframe, smiling and listening as the brothers chattered and laughed and argued in the way that children do. Sunlight shimmered in through the windows and voices carried from the garden, and Gideon wished he could promise his nephews for certain that the bad people would never succeed in taking him away.