Chapter 3

"Ah, so good of you to join us, Mr. Perlman."

Elio just gave an unidentifiable sound when everybody watched him enter the classroom and fell into the seat right next to Marzia.

"Where have you been?", she hissed. "You missed the best part!"

"The best part, huh? Can't imagine what that must have been. Did he strip or something?"

"No, idiot! Look!"

Elio craned his neck to see a sculpture of marble stand on the teacher's desk. It was made of impossible intertwined round forms that were moving in a mesmerizing slow tempo and as he listened closely, Elio could hear a low hum emanating from marble moving against marble.

"Isn't that the Phidias Knot?"

"Do you really expect me to remember the name of that thing? Isn't it amazing, though?"

Elio stared at the sculpture. "It's beautiful. How did he get it?"

"It's not the original, he conjured a copy."

"What? You mean, this isn't the-"

"I am sorry to interrupt your little chat" Oliver called over to them "but would you please direct your attention back at Patricia? If you already decide to show up late to my class, at least show some respect for your classmates, Perlman."

Elio felt his cheeks redden, but he fell silent. While Patricia kept explaining something about magical art works, Elio watched in wonder, as the sculpture moved in itself. A knot of marble with no beginning or end, continuously shifting its form and position like a thick snake. He had only seen a photograph of it once and even though it had been a moving one, it was nothing to experiencing it in person. How could someone just conjure up a small wonder like that? Suddenly Elio regretted his decision to come late to class. What he would have given to see this kind of magic.

Elio was so captivated by the moving art work that he did not even notice how time flew. Oliver had to flip his fingers in front of his face to break him out of it.

"What's gotten into you, Perlman? Don't tell me you're also falling asleep now in my classes."

Elio looked around to find everyone gone.

"No", he mumbled and raised his head from where it had rested on his arms on the table. "I just…can I…" He got up and walked over to the marble statute. "Can I touch it?"

Oliver followed him with a surprised frown. "Sure, go ahead."

Carefully, Elio lowered his fingers to the sculpture. It was like touching a slowly moving grinder or a marble column while walking around it. He could feel all the tiny irregularities in the surface.

"How did you do it?"

"It's a simple reproduction spell. I basically just copied the original", Oliver explained and watched, as Elio let his fingertips wander over the moving surfaces.

"It's beautiful."

Oliver cleared his throat. "Phidias was a great artist."

Elio looked up and remembered where he was and with whom. "Yeah…yeah of course. He was."

He stepped back. For a few seconds Oliver looked at him, probably waiting for him to leave. But when Elio didn't, he just pointed his wand at the sculpture and mumbled a spell. Elio watched how the marble came to a halt and then crumbled to a normal apple. Elio took it in his hand and tossed it into the air. Because he could not stop his own curiosity, he took a bite and chuckled when it tasted just like any other apple.

"Unbelievable."

Oliver grinned, but somehow the smile did not quite reach his eyes. "Don't you have any other classes now?"

Elio wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and shrugged. "Yeah"

"Go on then. Or are you making it a habit of coming late?"

Elio snorted. "It's just potions."

"Well…" Oliver looked at him expectantly. "Later, then."

Elio rolled his eyes, but when Oliver only kept staring, he put the half-eaten apple down on the desk and left without another word.


Art history became better, once Elio stopped being angry at Oliver's casual teaching style. Now that he knew that Oliver was not as incompetent as he had initially thought, he stopped acting like an asshole. But that didn't mean he treated Oliver with more respect than needed. Although he did show up on time now, he made it a habit of sitting in the last row and interrupting the discussions by throwing in some random comments whenever he felt like it. Oliver in turn seemed to enjoy their regular arguments during class, at least he never told Elio off because of his manners and even encouraged him, by asking for his opinion now and then.

"Nah, nothing to add, Professor." Elio would say then and he would grin smug, because he knew Oliver had to do his best not to roll his eyes at him.

"Your essays are perfect, right on point. I don't understand why you don't apply the same precision and motivation on a regular basis in class", Oliver sighed one afternoon, when he had called Elio back, before he could leave with the others.

"Well, it's the essays and exams that count, right?" Elio replied.

Oliver looked up from the paper he was about to hand to him and cocked an eyebrow. "So does that mean you don't enjoy my classes?"

Elio scratched his chin, trying his best to not smirk down at him. "They're alright."

"Alright?" Oliver repeated in disbelief. "Alright?"

"Yeah."

Oliver shook his head and pushed the paper into his hands. "Out with you."

Elio grinned and chased after the others.


In his first month at Hogwarts it took Elio quite some time to figure out that bad weather meant something different up here than in Italy. Bad weather meant you could not see more than five feet because the rain was pouring down so hard. Everything below that was deemed acceptable. When he finally adjusted to the different climate, he took up one of his former habits: getting up early and reading outside. In Italy it had been an amazing experience every morning. He would watch the sun come up and as soon as the light was bright enough he could start reading. Here, he was lucky if he found a dry spot under one of the trees by the lake.

This morning for a change, it was unusual good weather. The air was warm and some rays of orange sunlight broke through the grey sky of clouds. He had only just ignited his cigarette and turned the first page, when he saw someone running down the beach. Elio took a deep drag and while the smoke filled his lungs, he watched the figure come closer. It was a man on his morning run. And by the imposing height of his form it could only be one person. Elio exhaled slowly.

"Mornin' Perlman", Oliver said, when he came to a halt in front of him. He was wearing only a shirt and short, very short, pants that gave view on his long legs.

"Morning, Professor", Elio replied and took another drag.

He expected some kind of comment on his smoking or at least an interested question on why he was up so early or what he was reading. But instead he only got one word.

"Later."

And he was off again.

Elio blew the smoke into the air and grinned.

God, how he hated that man.


"What do you mean, you're not coming?" Murray asked.

Elio shrugged. "I don't feel like it."

"But it's Hogsmeade! Come on, mate! Everyone's going!"

Elio rolled his eyes at the other boy. "So?"

"So?! It's the happening! We're all gonna go to the three Broomsticks and get completely wasted!"

Elio closed the book he had been reading in until Murray had started pestering him. On second thought, going out did sound good. In the past few days Murray had been all caught up in Quidditch and the girls had been losing their heads over one of the Ravenclaw boys, which meant he had spent a lot of time in the music room with his guitar. Not that he would have complained about being on his own, but he liked socializing just as much and going to a pub and drinking together meant having a good time. He was always up for a good time.

"Alright"

And so, a few hours later, he found himself in a very crowded pub. Hunched between Marzia and Murray and cheering on Amanda and Clayton in their drinking game.

"Come on, Amanda!" He yelled and slammed his hand down on the table. "You can take him!"

Marzia was laughing so hard next to him that she had to hold onto his arm to not double over, while Murray was already ordering the next round. When it was Elio's turn to take on Murray in downing the shots as fast as possible, he made a big show of slipping out of his sweatshirt. Left in just his tank top, he earned quite some whistles from the girls. But he wasn't even half through the shots, when he noticed the cheering had ceased and the others' attention was on someone else.

"Look, it's Oliver!" Marzia said and pointed to the other side of the pub, where indeed the tall blond teacher had entered the room and was making his way over to them.

"I see, you're enjoying yourselves."

Oliver grinned, when he stopped at their table. Elio swallowed down the rest of the whiskey in his mouth and leaned back in his seat, suddenly feeling more sober than he should after three shots of fire whiskey.

It was like physics. Once Oliver entered a room, he was the magnet of all attention, without exception.

Elio watched, as Amanda invited the teacher to sit with them and started a conversation that soon ended in everyone shouting incoherently at each other. Oliver was laughing and from across the table he grinned at Elio. Elio smiled back, if only briefly. Maybe it was because of the alcohol, but suddenly he felt strangely disconnected from his usual don't-care-don't-mind attire. And so he just watched as everyone fought over Oliver's attention and the blonde did his best to answer all the questions.

"It's really not that difficult. Back in the day we used to play it all the time. Here, I'll show you."

Oliver rearranged the empty whiskey glasses and aimed his wand at them. One after one, they turned on their head.

"But what's even the point of it?"

"What's the point of any drinking game, Murray? You drink the shot, then turn the glass with magic and then go on to the next. Do try it out, if you think it's that easy. Because, believe me, after five shots of fire whiskey that gets quite hard."

Murray was not one to turn down a challenge and so a new round of drinking games began. However, after Murray let the second glass explode, they all thought it best to take a safer position before he moved on to the next. And so Elio found himself standing next to Oliver as he watched his friend slowly turn red while trying to turn the third glass with magic. The others were cheering him on and doing a great job of annoying the hell out of every other guest in the pub.

Although Elio was staring straight ahead, he could feel Oliver's eyes on him.

"You're awfully quiet, Perlman. You alright?"

Elio shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah."

"Ah, come on. It's just a game, have some fun!"

Oliver softly patted his shoulder. Elio didn't know whether it was the alcohol or the feeling of the older man's warm hand on his skin, but at the direct skin contact he suddenly felt so hot that he quickly slipped from Oliver's touch.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You alright?" Oliver asked and before Elio could stop him, he once again had his hands on Elio's shoulders. Elio felt his breath hitch, when Oliver buried his knuckles deep in his muscles and started to slowly massage him. "God, you are tense."

Elio did his best to protest. He didn't want to be touched that way. He didn't want to, because…because…for some reason that his alcohol-fogged mind could not fully grasp, he liked it. And that was just absolute bullshit. Why on earth would he like it? Maybe because Oliver's hands felt so perfect on his skin. So warm and big and strong that Elio could feel the touch vibrating through his whole body, leaving a hot tingling in his guts and making his toes curl. For a moment, Elio could do nothing else but just stand there, with parted lips and wide eyes, and feel unbelievable good and horrified to the bones at the same time.

One second longer, Elio thought, one second longer and I will collapse against him. I will just fall against his chest and touch him back. And I will look like a fucking idiot. Elio broke free and tumbled a few steps forward, but Oliver pulled him back.

"Hey, hey! Come on, relax."

"I am relaxed", Elio pressed from between clenched teeth. He could already feel goose bumps form all over his arms and he would rather die than have the American find out what kind of effect he had on him.

"No, no, no." Oliver gripped him harder than before to keep him from slipping away again. "You are tense like a bow."

"Oliver!" Murray called. "Look, I've done it!"

"Yeah, gimme a second! Marzia! Come on over here, feel this!" Elio's lips curled in anger, when Oliver pulled Marzia's hands to his skin. "See how tense he is?"

"Oliver!" Murray called again and the teacher patted Elio's other shoulder before stepping around him and with a "later" he left the two standing there and joined the others at the table.

"You really are tense." Elio heard Marzia say behind him, but he ignored her. His gaze was glued to Oliver's back. Why would he do this to him? What was it even that he had done to him? Why was he reacting so strange?

Elio felt sick. He felt so sick that for a moment he feared he would vomit all over his shoes, but the feeling ceased just as quick as it had come and he was left with nothing but a taste of bile in his mouth. In exchange the air suddenly felt so hot and humid in the pub that he could no longer breathe.

"I'm going outside", Elio growled and shrugged Marzia's small hands off him.

"Should I-"

"No."

He grabbed his sweater and stormed off. The air outside was cool and clear and Elio took it in with deep breaths, hoping it would flush the odd feeling right out of his body.

It didn't.

With a pained sigh, Elio fell against the outside wall of the pub. What was going on with him? How could a simple touch like that make him react so strongly?

Absentmindedly he rubbed his shoulder and he remembered vividly how it had felt just minutes ago when Oliver had done that. It had felt amazing. Like nothing else he had every experienced before. If he just closed his eyes, he could imagine him again. Standing right behind him. The warmth of his body against his back, so close that he made the hairs in his neck stand up with electric excitement.

But not close enough. How he wished he had come closer.

Elio exhaled with shaky lips. What was wrong with him? How could he crave more of something so…wrong? Because it was wrong, wasn't it? Craving the touch of a teacher of all people…

Elio stared at the cloudy sky above and shook his head. As nagging as the thought was, it was not nearly as strong as his sudden hunger for more. The hot imprint on his shoulder was already fading under the cold air, but the tingling in his guts stayed. Maybe it would pass too? But what if he didn't want it to pass?

What if he wanted to feel it again?