Part 2 of Hogwarts!AU. I've barely gotten anywhere with this series yet and I'm already piling on angst. Great.
Cross-posted from AO3. Not beta'd.
Enjoy!
It'd been a long time since Thorin was in this good of a mood. He was almost skipping through the corridors of Hogwarts on this fine Saturday morning. The spring in his step was accompanied by the happiest smile imaginable on his usually stern face.
Things had been going well since that night in his office two weeks ago, when he'd accidentally kissed Bilbo. They spent almost every free moment together since then, even if they were both just grading homework or exams and just enjoying each other's silent company. Now, today, they'd planned a lunch date in Hogsmeade while the weather was still decent enough to enjoy the outdoors a bit.
Absolutely nothing could damper Thorin's good spirits, not today.
"Uncle!" two joint voices cried from behind him.
Thorin turned around to see his nephews barreling towards him from the other end of the corridor. The already-present smile on his face grew even wider. Seeing his nephews always brought him great joy.
"Hello, my favourite Gryffindors," he greeted as they caught up with him, practically attacking him with hugs. "How are you?"
"Great!" Fíli said, letting go of his uncle after a few moments of hugging. "We haven't even gotten detention yet this term, right, Kíli?"
The brunet brother nodded frantically. "We've been good this year!"
Thorin chuckled and ruffled both of their hair, much to their chagrin. They batted his hands away. "Well, we're only a month in. Things could change. Troublemakers like you two can't keep out of mischief for too long."
Trouble just waiting to happen, he'd said to Bilbo. And the Herbology professor was a Gryffindor, just like Fíli and Kíli. Lord, what was Thorin getting himself into?
"What are you all smiley about?" Fíli asked, poking the Hufflepuff's arm. "You're not usually this…cheery."
Kíli nodded in agreement, eyeing Thorin critically. "And you're dressed awfully nice…do you have a date or something?"
The Ancient Runes professor reddened at the comment, refusing to look either of his nephews in the eye. "Something like that…" he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. He was still embarrassed about the whole thing—he was Thorin Oakenshield. He didn't date. Ever. But Fíli and Kíli were family, and he should trust them with this information. Though he didn't want his personal life being the talk of the school by any means, he knew he could tell them.
"Is it with Professor Boggins?" Kíli asked, beating him to the punch.
"It's Professor Baggins, Kíli," Fíli corrected his younger brother.
Thorin stared at them, wide-eyed. "How did you—"
"C'mon, Uncle. You've been pining after him for, what, two years?" Fíli said. "Don't think we didn't notice."
Kíli giggled. "Yeah. You stare at him all moony-eyed every time he's in the room. And you smile a lot around him. It's cute."
Thorin was dumbstruck. Merlin's beard, his nephews were much more perceptive than he gave them credit for. They were definitely their mother's sons—Dís was clever and crafty, and seemed to pass that on to Fíli and Kíli. And despite her placement in Ravenclaw all those years ago, she still had a mischievous streak a mile wide that her sons also seemed to inherit.
Changing the subject entirely for the sake of his dignity, Thorin said, "So…what are you two up to today? Since you both already know what I'm…doing."
"Dwalin said he'd let us come see the boggart in his office!" Kíli exclaimed, an excited smile lighting up his face.
"You should come with us!" Fíli said, his grin just as luminous as his younger brother's.
Thorin considered his options. He wasn't supposed to meet up with Bilbo for another hour or so, but he'd been hoping to drop by his office a little early. Then again, he rarely got to see his nephews now that school was back in session, their being busy with their studies and being kids and his being busy with his job.
"All right, but only for a little while," he agreed, much to his nephews' delight. It was just a boggart, nothing too exciting or time-consuming, but whatever made Fíli and Kíli happy made him happy as well.
"Well, come on!" the two Gryffindors said in unison. They each took one of Thorin's hands and dragged him down the corridor to visit their esteemed Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
"Well, well, if it isn't Professor Oakenshield himself!" Dwalin said in lieu of a proper greeting, clapping his best friend on the back. "I thought you had a lunch date with that Baggins fellow?"
Thorin found himself blushing for the second time in the span of about ten minutes. Fíli and Kíli snickered at their uncle, but quickly scampered behind Dwalin for protection when Thorin sent them a heated glare.
Clearing his throat, Thorin said, "So, you said you have a boggart to show them?"
Dwalin hummed in affirmation, ushering the three of them over to his rattling cupboard at the back of his office. "Been tryn'a get rid of this bastard for a week now. I figure I could use 'im for class, as some hands-on practice for the kids."
"Can we practice on it now?" Fíli begged, eyes wide and pleading. Kíli looked much the same.
When Dwalin looked to him for permission, Thorin gave a nod. "I've no issue with it." He then turned to his nephews. "You remember the spell, right?"
"Riddikulus!" Kíli said proudly as he pulled out his wand. Fíli did the same.
"Good," Dwalin complimented. He undid the latch on the cupboard door and looked to the blonde brother. "Ready, lad?"
Fíli nodded, the smile previously on his face replaced with a more serious, concentrated look. Thorin stood off to the side a bit, Kíli standing right next to him eagerly.
Dwalin opened the cupboard door and out stepped a mirror image of Kíli, an angry snarl twisting his facial features. The creature came forward and pointed an accusing finger at Fíli.
"How could you, Fíli?!" an exact mimicry of Kíli's voice said, upset and hurt. "I can't believe you! You're the worst brother ever!"
Fíli stood frozen, holding his wand out at the boggart. The doppelganger continued to yell at the young wizard, calling him a failure, demeaning him.
"I hate you!" the Kíli imposter cried.
"Remember the spell, Fíli," Dwalin instructed calmly.
"B-but…" Fíli stuttered, tightening his grip on his wand. His arm shook. The boggart stood there, waiting, tears falling from its eyes as it glared death at Fíli.
"It's not me, Fíli!" Kíli said from their uncle's side. "I would never say those things to you!"
Taking in a deep breath, Fíli swished his wand and cried out, "Riddikulus!" The boggart began to change its behavior; it still retained Kíli's appearance, but was now tripping all over its feet and falling flat on his face. Kíli's laughter from behind him seemed to brighten Fíli up, for he started laughing too at the boggart's antics.
While the fake Kíli was falling all over himself, Dwalin asked the real Kíli, "You wanna try, lad?"
Kíli shook his head. "I'm okay. Why don't you try, Uncle?"
The tattooed professor smirked at his best friend. "Yeah, why don'tcha give it a shot, Thorin? Show the youngsters how it's done?"
Shrugging, Thorin fished his wand out. It couldn't hurt; he already knew what his deepest fear was, and knew exactly how to combat it. Fíli moved next to his brother as Thorin stepped forward, wand at the ready.
The boggart picked up on his fear immediately, morphing from a clumsy Kíli into a giant wall of flames. He could almost feel the heat coming from the falsified fire, but he knew in the back of his head that it wasn't real. He raised his wand, the spell right on the tip of his tongue.
"Thorin…"
He froze. The colour drained from his face. He knew that voice, knew it all too well.
"Thorin…please…help me…"
A small, charred hand reached out from the flames. A face then emerged—a round, soot-covered face framed by singed auburn curls.
His grip on his wand was nearly tight enough to shatter it. Thorin swallowed hard, his heart having leapt into his throat. This…this had never happened before. Fire had always been his ultimate fear, since he was a child, so why was—
"Thorin…!" Bilbo called to him from inside the flames.
"Riddikulus!" he choked out, watching the flames diminish in size until they were nothing more than a projection on the screen of a muggle television, safely contained in a fireplace and burning warmly, benignly.
He felt three pairs of eyes on him, raising the hair on the back of his neck. He slowly lowered his wand arm, his breath hitched in his throat where his heart had been previously. His head spun, and he felt like he'd ingested some puking pasties and was about to be sick.
"Uncle…are you alright?" Kíli asked quietly from behind him.
"I'm fine…." he muttered, sucking in a deep breath through his nose. "I have to go."
Without paying any mind to his friend or his nephews, Thorin was out of that office as fast as his shaking legs would carry him.
"You seem down today," Bilbo noted over lunch, gently nudging Thorin with his shoulder. "Is something the matter?"
"No. Everything's fine," Thorin said, even though they weren't. Not at all.
Even though Bilbo was sitting right next to him, smiling and laughing, partaking in the butterbeer that was a Three Broomsticks specialty, Thorin could not get the image of his boggart out of his head. It was imprinted in his memory, constantly nagging him in the back of his mind, reminding him of his utmost fear. He couldn't look at Bilbo's face without seeing the flames eating away at his hair, his flesh. When Bilbo took Thorin's hand in his, Thorin just kept imagining the burned appendage reaching out for him in desperation, a broken voice begging him to save Bilbo.
He shivered. Setting his fork down, he slid his plate of half-eaten food away. His stomach churned; he couldn't handle another bite.
Thorin heard the scraping of chair legs against the wooden floor as Bilbo sidled closer to him, pressing his smaller frame against Thorin's side. Warmth flooded through him—not the warmth of an untamable fire, but a quiet, safe warmth that seemed to radiate off Bilbo in spades.
"You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to," the Gryffindor said, squeezing Thorin's hand. "But I want you to know that you can tell me anything, okay?"
Another kind of warmth blossomed in Thorin's chest. A warmth he wasn't quite sure how to identify. He let a small smile tug at his lips and laid his head atop Bilbo's. "Thank you."
The rest of their lunch went by in silence, but it wasn't awkward or stilted. It was almost comforting, in a way, having Bilbo's solid, supportive presence next to him. Thoughts of the events of earlier that day kept creeping up on him, and Thorin imagined they would for a while yet, but they were easier to dispel knowing that Bilbo was very much alive and not in harm's way.
A thought crossed his mind that maybe, just maybe, he cared more for this unassuming Herbology professor than he realized.
Thorin's boggart was pretty easy for me to figure out, but I still don't know what Bilbo's would be. Any suggestions? :)
Until next time,
Chibi