A/N: 3rd year now, Fred and George, Divination, Time Turner Frenzy, Quiddtich against Raven, Amorentia

September 1988

Raven doesn't think she's ever met anyone as fun as Fred and George Weasley before. Hank disagrees because the twins had given him a potion that had exploded and turned him blue, but Hank has tons of issues with pranks so his opinion on this is invalid.

The twins like to run around the school wreaking chaos in their wake, but the first time they had met her, they had goggled at her and then said simultaneously, "Wicked."

"You're a metamorphagus!"

"We thought Percy was joking!"

"Well, not joking since Percy never jokes—"

"—just severely mistaken. We had put a charm on his new glasses before he left, so—"

"—we thought it could have been that. But you're real!"

"Do you think you can help us with these potions we want to make? They're supposed to—"

"—turn someone's hair pink, but we keep hitting fuchsia instead."

She laughs as the twins look at her expectantly, "That sounds great, but I'm really not the person for experimental potions. Do you want to talk to my brother instead?"

And this is how Fred and George meet Charles, and Erik gains a new headache.

Charles is all too happy to assist the Weasley twins in their experimental joke devices ("A potion that when consumed turns a person's hair pink? Well, I suppose that a variation of the Beautification Potion with perhaps some demigauss hair would…."), and the Weasley twins are delighted to have gained an advisor and sponsor ("We like you! We'll call you—" "—Professor X! Like your owl!"). Erik is less amused, especially after the twins managed to charm his robes pink and fuchsia ("It was practice! We are now—" "—One step closer to turning hair pink! See you Magneto!"), and Raven knows she has met a pair of kindred spirits.

"That was awesome!" she grinned and clapped her hands as the twins told her how Erik had fumed and the fire pokers sharpened themselves and began to hang around menacingly, "You have to get that potion done and then use it on Erik! Charles will make sure Erik doesn't kill you, and I'll take the pictures!"

The twins happily agree, and the next few weeks are filled with explosions, Snape yelling at them, Charles expounding on the importance of "scientific method" and "hypotheses," and all the metal fixtures around the school gaining spikes as Erik's scowl grows more and more pronounced, and Raven is never prouder to be part of Gryffindor House.

November 1988

Normally, Tony barely pays attention to the Quidditch match in favor of admiring the lovely ladies who flocked to the games (Pepper unfortunately didn't come to any game besides Slytherin-Hufflepuff, which everyone went to since it had the Wolverine vs. Erik epic Beater showdown, but that was okay since if Pepper was here he wouldn't be able to devote the proper amount of attention to the other ladies), but today Raven was playing against Erik, and even Charles was paying attention.

"Oh!" Charles exclaimed, clutching Tony's arm as a bludger narrowly hurtled past Raven, "Erik, keep that other Beater in line! That could have hit her!"

"That's kind of the point Charles," Tony pointed out dragging his arm away, "Check out that girl with the snake hat, she's kind of cute—"

"Raven, don't make such dangerous spins!" Charles yelled, grabbing onto Tony's arm again as Raven executed a series of spiral spins to avoid the Slytherin Chasers and then threw the Quaffle only for it to be knocked off course by a Bludger sent by Erik, "Erik, don't aim your bludgers that close to Raven!"

"It's not like they can do anything else Charles," Darwin said diplomatically, having come to the Ravenclaw stands where he said there was less murderous intent all around, "How about you cheer for them instead?"

Charles gave Darwin a miserable look, "But who do I cheer for?"

"Both maybe?" Darwin suggests as Raven scores Gryffindor's first 10 points and the Gryffindor stands erupts in cheers, "Ravenclaws aren't likely to lynch you for cheering for either?"

"But if I cheer for Slytherin, Raven will pout at me and convince the twins to try putting Chocolate Frogs in my bed," Charles said worriedly, "And if I cheer for Gryffindor, Erik will send even more Bludgers at people."

"And I keep telling you that that's his job, but you won't listen," Tony complained, trying to jerk his arm away but Charles clutched on even tighter when Erik swerved past an incoming Bludger, "Let go Charles, I want to go talk to—"

A Bludger hurtles toward the Ravenclaw stands and only narrowly misses hitting Tony in the head, and Erik is swinging his bat around nonchalantly as Madam Hooch screams at the Slytherin team about his foul. Charles has a distinctly pinched expression on his face that Tony associates with him arguing with Erik through their mind-soul bond, but he is not taking any more chances so he quickly scoots as far away from Charles as possible.

"I am so commentating the games from now on," he yells at a puzzled looking Charles, "The girls will fall in love with my dry wit, and I'm less likely to be murdered by your jealous boyfriend!"

"You have no dry wit, and Erik is simply my best friend," Charles replies in a slightly irritated tone as the Slytherin stand jeers when the Gryffindor Chaser fails to make the bonus shot.

"Whatever you say, but Pepper needs me to stay alive so I think I'll just sit over here," Tony yells back as he sidles up to a pretty brunette Ravenclaw fifth year (some people said that all Ravenclaws, besides being smart were also beautiful, and Tony was inclined to agree, which was why obviously the Sorting Hat had made the right decision, no matter how much Pepper wondered out loud otherwise) and said, "Hi, you must be magical, because I have fallen under your spell."

The older girl gives him a decidedly unimpressed look, but Tony keeps talking to her. Persistence is key in picking up girls.

December 1988

Charles absolutely loves being able to take five new classes (he did manage to convince Professor Burbage to give him more advanced material after basically giving a lecture to the class about Muggle sciences and the underlying relationship it has to magic, he actually got to see a kappa and a niffler in Care of Magical Creatures, and Arithmancy relates to genetics so well that he almost forgets to eat when he does Arithmancy homework. Of course, some of the classes are not quite as exciting, with Divination seeming to be somewhat of a dud and he had to ask Erik for help so many times with memorizing words for Ancient Runes), but keeping up with the intricacies of using a Time-Turner (it's truly an honor, but making sure that he didn't cross paths with himself at any given time had grown so complicated that he had created a chart that mapped his course throughout the day) was quite tiring, especially when it was close to Christmas Break and all the professors had decided to jam in one last cascade of homework.

"Is there only one of you now, or are there multiple ones of you running around, and I should come back later?" Erik asked, standing at his table in the library.

Charles squinted over his Arithmancy textbook at the clock, "I think we're fine; Care of Magical Creatures just ended, so I'm done with all my classes for the day."

"Good," Erik replied, sitting down and getting out his Ancient Runes chart, "It's confusing having so many of you running around; every time I turn around it seems like you pop up."

Charles snorts, massaging his temple, "I still don't see why I can't use it for extra studying time," he complains, setting aside his textbook, "I am taking more classes after all."

"That I told you was a bad idea, but would you listen to me?" Erik idly asked, "Anything that involves time travel gets much too complicated in the end."

Charles groans as he looks at Erik's chart, "I'm never going to be able to memorize all of that, and we have a test in two days! Two days! And Professor Snape wants a four foot long essay on elixirs that I have barely started, and my tortoise still looks oddly ceramic and—"

"When was the last time you slept, Charles?" Erik interrupted, giving Charles a sharp look that took in his tousled curls, rumpled uniform, crooked tie, and ink smudges on his hands and face, "Or the last time you ate for that matter?"

"Hm? I'm sure it was recently," Charles fretted as he drew out his Ancient Runes textbook, "Do you think that Professor Flitwick is likely to make us write any more essays? Because if so I need to—"

Erik pointed his wand at all of Charles' study material, and the books and notes carefully stacked themselves, zoomed away, and settled on top of the highest bookshelf in the library. Charles gave an irritated sigh, "Was that really necessary, my friend?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"This is like you during finals all over again, except worse because there's more classes and the year isn't even done yet," Erik snapped, pulling Charles up by the arm, "You need to eat and then go to bed. Now."

Charles began to protest, "Erik, I haven't even finished memorizing—"

"Is all your homework for tomorrow done?" Erik asked, neatly draping Charles' blue and white scarf around his neck and tying it securely.

"Well, yes but there's still so much that has to be done—"

"And you'll be able to finish it up much better when you're not hyped up on tea and Pepper-Up potions. Besides, I bet you can't even aim a spell properly right now, and if you tried to get the homework down without a wand at this moment, I think you would topple over and break your neck," Erik replied ruthlessly, marching Charles out of the library.

I can walk myself you know, Charles projected sulkily, fully aware that he sounded like a petulant child.

I know you can, but given your amount of sleep deprivation I'm worrying that you're going to somehow walk yourself off the Astronomy Tower, Erik projected back, turning Charles toward Ravenclaw Tower.

I'd never go up there outside of class, you know that. Didn't you want me to eat something first? Charles yawned (there had been perhaps a bit more tea and Pepper-Up Potions than was strictly healthy, and he had sort of lost count of how many he had taken when factoring in all the time travel he had been doing).

"What is the one rule that can never be broken?" the eagle knocker asked as they approached.

"Death," Erik replied, and then pushed Charles through the door, I'll be back with food; you try to actually get some sleep.

The question this time is so morbid, Charles muzzily projected back as he walked to his dorm room, you don't have to do that Erik, don't you also need to study?

You forget that I'm much better at Ancient Runes than you, Erik said dryly (like a warm summer breeze), and I have less classes. Sleep; I'll get you some food, you can rest some more, do the rest of your homework after that, and then you can go to Honeydukes and buy ridiculous amounts of candy for Raven and your minions.

The Weasley twins are not my minions, Charles protested, slipping under the covers of his bed, and I have to buy something for Raven after all the Bludgers you sent after her.

After her Quaffle, Erik corrected, you give me headaches if I send it after her. And we've been over this; it's my job as a Beater to beat Bludgers at different players.

I'm fairly sure that the job was formally defined as beating back Bludgers from your own players, and that still doesn't explain your ridiculousness with Tony, Charles murmured, clutching his pillow.

I told you that was an accident; my hand slipped, Erik replied, but not without a hint of smugnessamusementmine.

Doubtful, I've never seen you 'accidentally' hit a bludger anywhere, Charles shot back and then asked hopefully, You couldn't bring me up a nice hot cup of tea with milk, could you?

No caffeine until you've actually slept, Erik said adamantly, I'll get you some warm milk if you like, and sometime over Christmas Break we are going to talk about the ridiculousness of you taking enough classes to warrant time travel.

Mm, warm milk sounds nice, Charles sleepily replies, feeling his eyelids grow heavily.

Good night Charles, Erik says fondly (a warm pat on the head), Sweet dreams.

February 1989

Darwin quite likes Hogsmeade. The Three Broomsticks serves excellent Butterbeer, Honeydukes is like heaven, Zonko's has tons of fun things (that he knows the Weasley twins will somehow get a hold of and cause chaos with unfortunately), and Dervish and Bangs is interesting.

It would be quite nice though if Tony would stop pestering Pepper to go to the Shrieking Shack or Madam Puddifoot's with him.

"Come on Pepper, it'll be fun!"

"No, Stark."

"But it has excellent tea! Doesn't it Charles?"

"Hm?" Charles said, turning around with a stack of cauldron cakes, exploding bonbons, fizzing whizzbees, jelly slugs, sugar quills, and cockroach clusters in his arms, "I wouldn't know; I've never been there."

Tony gaped at Charles, "You've never been to Madam Puddifoot's?" he asked incredulously, "I thought you would have tried every single tea place!"

Charles shrugged, dropping a few packages, "It seemed rather…kitsch," he said distastefully, "I do not imagine the tea would taste very good."

"You are not being a good wingman," Tony complained as Erik helped Charles pick up the packages.

"Why are you buying cockroach clusters?" Erik asked, eyeing the brown package dubiously.

"Raven and the twins insisted," Charles sighed, dumping all of it on the counter, "They heard about them and begged me for them."

"They're going to be sneaking it into our food for the next month, aren't they?" Darwin asked gloomily (the Hufflepuff-Slytherin match was coming up, and Raven and the twins, along with perhaps Oliver Wood, were obsessed enough with the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup to probably try sticking things in Slytherin food in a roundabout attempt to help Gryffindor).

"They try that, and I'll be forcing them to eat these things until they puke," Erik growled as Charles rolled his eyes and paid.

"Why don't you let me taste-test everything for you Pepper?" Tony piped up, "I could feed you all your food—"

"I'd rather starve, Stark."

And then Darwin has to run damage control (again but he's kind of used to it, hanging around with Pepper, who is cool and all but Tony Stark had a tendency to bring out the crazy in anyone, and Erik, who is brilliant but there's a reason that half the school is in terrified awe of him), distracting Pepper from attempting to Jelly-Legs Jinx Tony into the remaining February snow by suggesting building snow men in front of the Shrieking Shack.

The snow-men are, well, inventive to say the least (Tony's is a robot shooting lasers, Pepper's is a ghost that floats around and occasionally kicks Tony's robot in the head), and Erik and Charles didn't even finish making snowmen before they turned the whole outing into a snowball fight.

(A week and several disgusting cockroach clusters later, Tony is commentating a Quidditch match for the first time, and proclaims his love to Pepper several times throughout the game. It takes Darwin, Charles, Hank, Raven, and a well-timed Bludger from Erik at Tony to restrain her from hexing him to kingdom come.

She still manages to hit him with a Bat-Bogey Hex followed by a Tarantellagra the next day though. It's rather unpleasant, with snot dripping all over the place, Filch is furious, and Darwin thinks this is the first time Pepper has ever gotten detention.)

May 1989

Erik doesn't think there is any subject more useless than Divination at this point. He had tried being patient, gritting his teeth through Trelawney's prattling mumbo-jumbo (she had predicted the first day that he was the one who was going to die this year, and she would have relished giving more dire predictions except she had been cowed into stammering silence by his glare), squinting at tea leaves (Charles had insisted upon "practicing" later on, which had just led to him being hyped up on caffeine, practically bouncing off the walls, and going ErikEriklookatthatisn'? in his head for the entire day), and peering into crystal balls, but he had absolutely had it.

"There is nothing here, and this is ridiculous," he hissed at Charles, shoving the crystal ball away from his face.

"You never know Erik, you might be able to see something," Charles replied, still intently staring into his crystal ball.

"You were the one who read all those books saying Divination is pure bunk," Erik muttered, considering levitating the crystal ball and throwing it against the wall.

"Don't you dare throw it; you already nearly give Professor Trelawney hysterics every time you look at her already, and she was nice enough to lend us these," Charles said quickly, giving Erik an accusing look while casting a sticking charm to the crystal ball.

"If she would do something besides predict ways that I'm going to horribly die and actually teach, perhaps that wouldn't happen," Erik replied, grimly staring at the crystal ball again, "After this year, I am dropping this subject, and you should as well."

Charles sighs, slumping back in his chair (and Erik really does not like how Charles' mind pulses with tiredtiredtired), "Perhaps I should," he admits, stretching, "I thought that Divination could perhaps have some sort of technique involved in it because it can't be entirely bunk when the Ministry has a whole department on prophecies, but perhaps people who are not born seers are truly incapable of seeing into the future. Of course, that brings up the question of how centaurs are able to divine the future and if they are all born seers—"

"The better question is how we are not going to fail the Divination final," Erik interrupts, pulling out a piece of parchment, "So far I think our best bet is to write down as many horrible things that can happen to us as possible, look up the symbols that go with it, and then convince Trelawney that that's what we see during the test."

"Erik, that's cheating," Charles scolds lightly, drawing out the Divination textbook.

"I don't see how so; we'll actually be memorizing the symbols, and if Divination cannot actually be used without being born with the ability, there's no point in testing us to see if we can see things that we can't see," Erik replied, scribbling on his parchment, "Do you think being savaged by a shark is too much?"

"We barely go to the beach, and sharks generally don't attack humans," Charles huffed out a laugh, "Yes, it's too much."

"What about being blown up by the twins or getting stuck in a Muggle prison?" Erik suggests, flipping through the Divination textbook, "I can also mention seeing a Grim stalking my path." (It wouldn't be too far from the truth anyway).

Never say that, Charles intones suddenly, looking Erik in the eyes, You are going to live to a ripe old age with me.

(Charles isn't always consciously in Erik's mind; he knows that his friend does keep tabs on him (a long slender thread tied between the two of them), but Charles generally just flits in and out like he has done since they were children, seeing some thoughts (and memories, the ones that Erik doesn't bother to shield anyway) but mostly happy to just be there (Erik thinks that this is because Charles' magic just needs to be able to peer into other people's minds, but Charles claims that Erik's mind feels like home, which Erik scoffs at because only Charles would think that a fortress "feels like home"), and with the punishing work-load of twelve different classes, Charles has been even less likely to catch an individual stray thought, preferring to curl up in Erik's mind to rest. But Erik only took Divination in a desperate attempt to be able to one day find Shaw, and he knows that his frustration bleeds over as acid that Charles gingerly steps around, but Charles in the end, will not ignore anything that could end with his death.)

I am going to pass Divination, drop this moronic class, learn more spells, hunt down Shaw, and kill him, he carefully replies, still writing horrible fates down, Whether or not I come out alive from that is—

If you say it's immaterial, irrelevant, insignificant, unimportant, meaningless, or any other synonym thereof, I swear I will hex you and then I'll punch you in the face, Charles glared, eyes like ice.

"Fine, what would you like me to say Charles?" Erik asked silkily, "That I'm going to stay with you at your mansion like a good little boy, like a good pet and never do anything dangerous?"

"That's ridiculous Erik, and you know it," Charles bites out, hurt feelings lashing around Erik's mind (like the slap of cold water in the face).

He already feels bad, but he still presses on (because this is their core conflict, the one thing that he refuses to give up despite Charles' disappointment, the desire that makes his magic sing and blaze, and the one thing that Charles will probably never be able to understand), "But you would like it if I never even tried to get revenge."

"I would," Charles admits quietly, "I would prefer you safe. But I won't stop you when you're ready."

"And who gets to decide that then, you?" Erik asks dangerously (voicing the question that he has been wondering about ever since they started their training lessons and Charles had picked out the spells) clutching his quill so hard that he's surprised it doesn't snap.

"No," Charles snaps angrily (bees buzzing wildly), "You'll only be able to come back alive if you're better than all those Aurors they sent after him that came back dead, so I guess whoever is in charge of you in the Auror Office will decide that."

"You've already decided that I'm going to be an Auror?" Erik demanded, torn between feeling pleased that Charles was so sure he could be one and irritated at Charles' presumption.

"Would you rather be a Hit Wizard?" Charles snaps, "You don't take orders or authority very well, considering how many points Slytherin loses every time you open your mouth in class. Besides, Aurors do investigative work while Hit Wizards are just called in for dangerous criminals and since you're the one who wants to investigate, to the point that you took Divination and you keep a chart in your trunk about Shaw—"

"How do you know about that?" Erik cuts in (he had buried that chart made of newspaper clippings and photos at the bottom of his trunk and had shielded most thoughts about it the same way he did most of his thoughts involving Shaw)

Charles snorts, "Erik, I know everything about you. Besides, why else are random articles and pictures cut out of your Daily Prophet?"

(It's disconcerting really, to think that someone would know everything about him, but he's sure Charles is exaggerating. He has never let Charles walk some of the darker corridors of his mind, making sure that they are gated, locked, shut, and barred from entry, but on the other hand, Charles has woken him up from his screaming nightmares before and is well-aware of his plans, so perhaps he is fooling himself with that belief. However, who would ever want him to stay so badly if they knew everything about him?)

"Alright," he says finally, "So you'll 'let' me go if I become an Auror?"

"If you become an Auror who is better than all those Aurors they sent after Shaw before," Charles replies, stressing the last few words (and echoing them in his mind), "I won't be forced to try to immobilize or follow you."

(And if there is one thing that Erik never wants, the nightmare that can still wake him up screaming, the fear that he keeps carefully buried, is Charles somehow getting into Shaw's hands. He can imagine all too vividly how very fascinating Herr Dokter would find his friend who is so gifted at Legilimency, and he swears that that will never happen.)

"Then I'll be sure to become an Auror then," Erik quietly says, trying to project conciliatory feelings (the reassuring weight of a metal watch which is met by Charles' familiar soft touch because all their arguments generally end something like this), "Which means I have to at least pass my exams, which unfortunately include Divination. The twins or Muggle prison?"

"The twins are unfortunately more likely," Charles smiles (as he steps through his mind and leans against the walls, happy that they are no longer arguing), "They mean well of course but—"

"Don't you start, you encourage them," Erik muttered, scribbling away, "And I still have no idea where Raven hid the photographs."

"Indeed, and I so wanted to see them again. You looked lovely with pink hair," Charles said innocently, eyes dancing with mirth.

"Oh, I was nothing compared to your hair that time you broke Raven's doll," Erik shoots back, "Remind me, how many different colors did you turn it, trying to make it go back to normal?"

"I was nine, and I didn't have a wand yet, and you didn't help the way you were about to suffocate from laughing," Charles laughingly protests, "Wait, are you seriously going to tell Professor Trelawney that you see yourself getting blown up by the twins?"

"Perhaps they'll be caught in the explosion as well," Erik muses, staring at his parchment, "You should tell her that you see yourself getting crippled somehow, and then stare at her with your big blue eyes until she feels sorry for you and caves."

"That generally only works with you Erik," Raven comments, plopping down in a chair at their table, "What's this I hear about the twins blowing you up?"

"Fake dire predictions," Charles explains as Erik continues to flip through his Divination textbook, "Erik thinks that if he predicts enough horrible things happening to himself, he'll pass his Divination final."

Raven tilts her head, "Sounds like a solid plan. So, how much are you guys willing to pay me for pictures of Erik with pink hair? I feel like I should try auctioning it off between the two of you."

(Charles wins unfortunately, beating Erik's bid of, "Daily Quidditch training for the entire summer and the promise of no bodily harm" with "a new Nimbus 1700 bought with my money made from Beautification Potions, and honestly Raven what's wrong with the refurbished Nimbus 1500?" He tries to steal the photos away from Charles, only to find that he had placed a permanent sticking charm on them to his planner. He takes some heart in the fact that at least his photo-self has the good sense to hide and refuse to be seen without a lot of gentle coaxing from Charles.)

June 1989

The Weasley twins had claimed that very weak love potions would sell like Cauldron Cakes ("Seriously, girls will fall over themselves to—" "—hand you money if you could make those!"), and Charles has always wanted to try a variation of Amortentia, so he had happily agreed to see what he could do.

Then finals had happened, and he had nearly died (he absolutely agreed with Erik now; he had to drop some subjects, or he really was probably going to die of sleep deprivation if that was even possible. Divination had to go; it was just terrible, and if Erik was dropping it, he wouldn't even have anyone to complain to about it. He was probably going to have to drop Ancient Runes as well because even though spell invention sounded enthralling, he knows he barely passed the final and that was after all the charmed flashcards), but now that that hell was over, he thought he could try his hand at it.

Hank helped him add in half an Ashwinder egg, "Are you sure this isn't going to explode?" he asked nervously.

"Of course not; we only added half an egg, and it was frozen," Charles said confidently, stirring and making a few notes in his Potions textbook, "Hand me the rose thorns, peppermint, and powdered moonstone and…and some Flobberworm Mucus to balance it all out."

"People are supposed to drink this, right?" Hank asked disgustedly, but still obediently handed the ingredients over to Charles.

"Flobberworm Mucus is perfectly healthy!" Charles reassures Hank, adding in the ingredients, "This is to make sure it won't last more than an hour. I've hypothesized that there is an inverse relationship between the amount of Flobberworm Mucus in a love potion and the duration of its effect."

"Have you actually ever brewed a love potion before?" Hank asked curiously, avidly watching as the potion bubbled and developed a mother-of-pearl sheen.

"No, but I still think this should work," Charles replied, his eyes darting between the wavy steam of the potion and the illustrations in the textbook, "Amorentia has spiraling steam, but we don't want anything as strong as that, so this might be what we're looking for. Go on Hank, take a sniff. What do you smell?"

"I-isn't that a rather personal question?" Hank stuttered, pushing up his glasses and flushing.

"I suppose so yes, but how else are we going to be able to know if we succeeded or not? We can't just feed it to someone; that would be highly unethical," Charles said virtuously, quill poised to take notes.

"Like that would stop the twins," Hank muttered before taking a sniff, "I smell the potions storehouse, ink, and…and something flowery. Kind of like perfume."

"Any specific perfume?" Charles asked, frantically taking notes, "Pepper's? One of your classmates? Raven's perhaps?"

Hank turned red enough that Charles worried that he was about to spout steam from his head, "N-no! No! Just perfume!"

"Alright, alright," Charles said, amused, stirring the potion some more, "Although, you do realize Hank that if you do wish to go out with my little sister, I will be forced to give you the overprotective big brother speech even though I like you? And most likely Erik will have to as well?"

Hank paled, "It's not like that! I think."

"Raven is quite fond of you, you know," Charles continued earnestly, "She always looks for you during Quidditch matches, and she is ever so happy when she sees you—"

"What do you smell, Charles?" Hank frantically interrupted, once again as red as the Gryffindor common room.

"Me?" Charles asked surprised, temporarily derailed, "Well, let's see. I think I smell the library, a kind of musty old book smell, tea, lemon, and a…vaguely metallic, vaguely musk-like scent. It seems familiar, but—no, I can't seem to place it," he mused, writing down more notes.

Hank peered closely at Charles, "Maybe it's—"

"Why are you two brewing a love potion like giggling first year girls, Mr. Xavier, Mr. McCoy?" Professor Snape coldly asked, suddenly swooping into the dungeons.

Charles gave Professor Snape a winning smile (one that usually had served him well anyway) while Hank cowered behind him, "We were experimenting on the relationship between the duration of a love potion and the amount of Flobberworm mucus, professor! If our calculations are correct, this love potion should last no more than an hour and provide perhaps an intense infatuation—"

"You may take your infantile experimentation elsewhere," Professor Snape snapped, summoning a box of flasks, "I have work to complete."

Charles considers arguing to stay (Professor Snape is the Potions Master after all, and they could learn so much from him), but Professor Snape's glare has already sent Hank frantically stoppering their potion into the flasks, and Ravenclaw is so close to the House Cup that he will be murdered if he loses them points now, so he sighs and follows suit.

They're halfway up the stairs and arguing about how safe it would be to levitate the whole box to the Gryffindor common room to give to the twins (Charles thinks they should carry it there in case of crowds while Hank is maintaining that giving the twins access to love potions is the most terrible idea ever), when Erik catches up with them.

"You're brewing love potions Charles?" he asks incredulously, quickly walking over to help them.

"It's an experiment," he replies haughtily, leaning back as Erik moves forward to heft up the box, "It was actually quite informative—"

And he suddenly knows why that metallic-y musky scent had seemed so familiar as Erik brushes against him to take up the box. It's the smell that he had curled up with in Erik's bed, the smell that he associates with comfort and laughter, the smell of his best friend, and evidently the smell that represents "while different to each person, reminds each person of the things they find the most attractive, even if the person themselves don't acknowledge their fondness for the object of their affection." (And he knows he's freaking out when he starts reciting his Potions textbook in his mind, but this is kind of a big deal and he's quite entitled to freak out right now if he wants to—)

"Charles are you alright?" Erik asks in a slightly amused tone, cutting into his thoughts, "You've been staring off into space with a panicked expression for a while now. Did you forget to add some crucial ingredient, and this box is going to explode any minute now?"

"No, no, I just-I left something in my dorm room," Charles replies distractedly, backing away, "You two go and give that to the Weasley twins, and I'll-I'll join you in a bit."

He runs off (and he mentally apologizes to Hank who has this irrational fear of Erik and Erik who doesn't enter the Gryffindor common room if he can help it since he is Slytherin's ace Beater), and tucks himself into a corner of the library (the most comforting place he can think of outside of Erik's bed, which suddenly makes a lot more sense).

He has to think this through. Amorentia puts off smells that attract a person, for him it smelled like Erik; ergo he is attracted to Erik. But he couldn't be, could he? Erik was his best friend, almost like his brother, and shouldn't it be like the thought of dating Raven? (She had suggested this idea once to him and Erik, in hopes that she could make Hank jealous, but both of them had shuddered and refused. They had then to ply Raven with sweets and compliments to get her out of her sulk, assuring her that if she wasn't like a sister to them, they would go out with her in a heartbeat, they swear, blue form and all, but since she was like their little sister, it would feel too vaguely incestuous and creepy.)

And yet, the thought of going out with Erik didn't feel the same way. It made a warm feeling settle in the pit of his stomach, his cheeks start to flush, and his heart start erratically beating—

And now he sounded like one of those bosom heaving heroines in some of the trashy novels Raven kept borrowing off of that Slytherin second year Angel (and the novels he knew were Pepper's guilty pleasure). This was ridiculous and not helping.

He ran his hands through his hair and pinched the bridge of his nose. Okay, here were the facts as far as he knew them. He had been unconsciously attracted to Erik, and now he was conscious of it. Erik, as far as he knew, had absolutely no thoughts about such relationships beyond the fact that they were distractions to his purpose (but there were many things that Erik counted as distractions to his purpose that Charles had convinced him to do, and this could be the same—)

No. He couldn't risk it; Erik was his best friend. If he told Erik, and Erik did not feel the same way, or worse, if Erik was disgusted—

It didn't bear to think of. Erik's friendship was the most important thing after all, wasn't it? So he could just act normal, just act the same, just remain Erik's best friend. That would be easy enough to do wouldn't it? He could do that, couldn't he?

"Why are you in the library?" Tony asked, popping up from behind the bookshelf.

"Why aren't you following Pepper around?" Charles asked irritably, neatly diverting Tony's attention to his favorite topic.

"She's helping Erik block the twins from spraying love potions all over Hogwarts," Tony complained, sprawling in the chair next to Charles, "I ask her for help with Potions homework and she says no, but if Erik needs help, off she goes. You don't think the two of them are going out, do you?"

"First of all," Charles bit out, ignoring the queasy, rolling sensation in his stomach (Pepper had a lovely example of a mutation in the MC1R protein, and was one of the few people who Erik respected, and why wouldn't Erik want to date her?), "You ask Pepper for homework help by saying, 'Ready to make some magic together?' Secondly, I think we would notice if Erik started going out with anyone."

Tony held up his hands in mock-surrender, "Sorry, sorry. Touchy today aren't you? Did you and darling Erik have a fight? Did he leave you for Pepper? If he did, don't worry, I'll steal her back with my latest robot and you can comfort Erik with your body."

"Shut up Tony," Charles replied, standing up as he heard the screams of fear and skittering sound that always accompanied Erik on a rampage with his spiders, "I better go handle this."

(He manages to sternly lecture the twins into a state of contrition where they promise to not spike any more drinks with love potions (there had been a slightly mind-scarring incident with Mr. Filch and Madam Pince that he was never going to think about ever again) and agree to carefully research the potions over the summer. Pepper finally takes the Tarantellega curse off of them at this point, and Charles pushes and pleads with Erik until he agrees to not attempt to disembowel the twins with his spiders for turning his robes into a clingy, short, sparkly, blue dress during the chase.

The fact that he is uncomfortably attracted to Erik in a dress is a terrible, terrible state of affairs, and as Erik stomps around changing his clothes, he feels his mouth go a little dry.

He is so screwed. )

A/N: Erik in a dress is a reference to that deleted scene at the strip club, and the whole uncomfortably attracted thing comes from one of the many interviews (it was the fun full cast one? Where Fassbender talked about constipated jazz hands?) Not sure if that really worked out…