Christmas break came and went with little fanfare.
Rose's gift, a finely made pair of clippers for her broom, was thoughtful, but Rey couldn't help but be reminded of how inferior her broom was in comparison to Ben Solo's Silencer. Finn's practice quaffle and Poe's equipment bag only further hammered home the realization that no matter how much care and practice went into her flying, those with enough money to buy the right broom would always be a step ahead. Rey halfheartedly trimmed the edges of her ramshackle broom before sending a hastily written thank you to her friends that she'd owl to them the next morning.
The rest of break was a blur of pouring over Ben's books, going for a few flights out on the quidditch pitch whenever the snow let up, and visiting Chewbacca for a bit of tea every few days. Of the small handful of students who stayed behind during break, Rey had no real relationship with them beyond giving a quick nod of recognition and a perfunctory "Happy Christmas." Rey did play a quick game of gobstones with an underclass Gryffindor, a first year named Vi Moraldi, but by the time January first had rolled around, she was desperate for companionship with people her own age.
As Rey predicted, Rose seemed to have forgotten entirely about her fake boyfriend. The night of their return, Rey was relieved that they spent more time playing with Finn's new Wizard's Chess set than talking about any possible romantic endeavors.
"You're trash at this, you know," Finn muttered as his bishop smashed Rey's knight within three minutes. "You know that most people think before they move, right? Strategize?"
"Rey's got the power of instincts," Poe argued as he elbowed Finn. He'd appointed himself 'referee' at the beginning of the round, though he'd so-far spent most of his time trying to sneak Rey's pawns back onto the board when Finn wasn't looking. Finn rolled his eyes, once again shoving Poe's wandering fingers away from the game board. "There's a reason why she's my star offensive chaser."
"Rey's got the power of the most annoying guardian angel in the world," he responded shoving Poe into Rose with a laugh. "If you so badly want to get your arse trounced again, you're up next, Dameron."
"Quaking in my boots."
Grinning in triumph, Finn stared Poe straight in the face as his knight swung it's sword at Rey's king and sent it toppling to the ground. "Rey made it to eight minutes. Can you beat that, Dameron?"
"Next year, I'm getting you a chessboard where you can just play against yourself," Rey said as she shook her head and gathered her school bag and broom. "Might be the only way to give you a challenge."
"Rey, are you really headed out to fly?" Rose said with a sigh. "It's our first night back! Can't you pretend not to be obsessed for at least twenty-four hours? We haven't even gotten into the proper girly gossip!"
"Thank Merlin," Finn muttered. "If I have to hear one more time about your theory about how D'Arcy and Tyce are in a secret relationship, I'm going to tear my hair out."
"I saw them snogging!"
"They're professors!" Finn argued. "Professors don't snog!"
"You know, you're right," Rose considered. "They don't snog. They fu-"
"Well on that note, you all have a lovely evening discussing the love-lives of our teachers," Rey said as she finally extricated herself from the conversation. For once, one of Rose's many theories held some truth to it. In all actuality, the herbology professor and the flying professor had not seemed so secretive during Christmas break where they had no qualms about holding hands in the Great Hall. It was rather sweet seeing them a bit more casual with one another during the holidays, but Rey could only imagine the gossip that would erupt if the whole school was there. "If you'd excuse me, I've got some business to attend in the library."
"Library?" Poe questioned as he pointed to her broom.
"Er. Library first. Then flying. I've got charms to finish. Extra credit," Rey said, stumbling through the lie.
"What extra-"
"Bye!" she shouted as the portrait door swung open, mentally cursing herself. At this rate, Rey would surely blow her cover by February. She could only imagine Ben's look of disdain for her complete lack of subterfuge.
o-o-o
It sickened Ben to think that Armitage Hux was the closest thing to a friend that he had. A terrible friend, of course, but at least someone with a decent enough house to crash at and a tremendous love for gloating about Ben's familial disasters that it seemed unlikely that he would turn him away. It had taken exactly three days into Winter Break and seven circular arguments before Ben had marched out of his mother's house, broom clenched as he inexplicably found himself flying two villages over to Armitage's house.
'House' was selling it short, of course. The Hux's estate was massive, and Ben often wondered if it was designed just big enough so that Mrs. Hux would lose sight of Armitage and promptly forget his existence. For all of Armitage's pure-blood pride, there was no arguing one thing: Armitage was nothing more than a bastard that was a permanent blemish on the Hux family reputation. Ben supposed that Brendol Hux could have left the boy with his mistress, his former secretary at the Ministry of Magic, but one look at Armitage's identically pinched face and bright red hair would signify the truth to the outside world in an instant. No matter how hard the boy tried to live up to his name, it earned him no more than a passive grunt from his father and a sneer from his so-called "step-mother." Ben supposed that this was the one reason why he withstood Armitage and all of pompousness. He understood what it felt like to not be to live up to expectations. He felt a shared sense of pity for the boy.
By the end of Christmas break, however, that pity had all but disapparated. There were only so many snide comments and passive-aggressive remarks that Ben could take before snapping. On more than one occasion, one of them had thrown a punch or two, resulting in a couple of badly bruised ribs and one broken nose which Armitage had sneakily fixed with magic and a hastily mumbled "sorry."
"Did you see Mitaka on the train? I don't even know why they bothered to send him back after break," Hux complained as he set to unpacking his suitcase. "Boy's no better than a Squib."
"Okay."
"And somebody must've bought Bazine Netal a new push-up bra, because her tits look amazing."
"Huh."
"Speaking of tits, if Zorii Bliss would stop acting like a troll all the time… Gryffindor or not, I'd have a go with that one."
"You done yet?"
Hux glared. "Oh, excuse me. Didn't realize you were so busy talking to your millions of other friends. Tell me, Solo, are you short on time? Got a big ice cream social to catch?"
"I have places to be," Ben answered with what he hoped was a noncommittal shrug. The less Hux knew of his extracurriculars, the better. He'd rather not know what Armitage thought of Rey or her tits.
"Hot date with your Quidditch broom?" he sneered.
"Hot date with your mum."
Chucking a heavy copy of "Hogwarts, A History," at Ben's head, Hux hissed a nasty cuss word and brandished his middle finger. Laughing, Ben mimicked the action before slamming the door and heading down the stairs.
He had company to attend to, after all.
o-o-o
Rey was already there as he entered the library, book spread open as she poured through the pages. Her lips moved slightly as she read, Ben noted. He slid into the seat opposite her, and she jumped as he broke her concentration.
"I see you didn't bother to get a new broom for Christmas," Ben said with a nod in the direction of Rey's Cleansweep. He was never one to waste time with 'hellos'. Better to cut straight to the chase.
"Some people have to buy their own brooms, not just get them as gifts from their rich mommies and daddies," Rey said, rolling her eyes.
"Ouch. My poor heart," he responded dryly. In actuality, Ben had refused to allow his mother to buy his broom for him, and he wouldn't let his father touch his broomstick with a ten-foot pole. Rey didn't need to know that, of course. If being in Slytherin had taught him one thing, it was that when it came to either being empathetic or being feared, it was best to choose the latter. He'd rather not hash out the details of his work-obsessed mother and estranged father with a near-stranger, no matter how pampered she might assume he was.
"And what heart is that again?" she said, her face lighting up. He couldn't help but grin back. He'd forgotten how much he enjoyed their verbal sparring. Arguing with Hux could never compare.
"Oh, I've got plenty. One of a hippogriff. The other of a first-year Hufflepuff. One pickled and ripe for consumption, just as we speak."
"Gross!" she laughed.
"Why'd you bring that shabby thing in here, anyway? Planning to fly laps around the restricted section?"
"Sloth grip roll," Rey said plainly, pulling out Ben's text and thrusting it under his nose. "It says in the book to turn your knuckles in but keep the thumb loose, which doesn't make sense. How does that even make a grip? I'm literally just holding on by my fingertips like I'm some bloody chameleon? I'd rather not fall on my arse, thank you very much."
"There's a diagram," Ben said as he opened the book and pointed to the drawing. "Do I have to teach you how to read, too, Niima?"
"Do I have to teach you manners, Solo?"
"Do I have to-"
"Shh!" the librarian, Madam Motto, hissed from her front desk. Ben rolled his eyes at the irony. Once Motto got going, she usually ended up far louder than the students as she frantically tried to shoo them out of her domain. He'd once seen her cast a silencing charm on a fifth year student that lasted nearly three says before it wore off.
"Motto's going to have a heart attack if you don't shut up," Rey whispered.
"Motto looks like she's always about to heart attack. That's just her face."
Rey snorted as she pulled the book back towards her. "Either way, getting kicked out of here isn't going to help clarify this damn, stupid move. You've done this one before. I saw it last year in the game against Ravenclaw."
"Flattered you paid attention," Ben said. He was, truly. "It's really not too complicated. Becomes second-nature once you get used to it, especially when you think about how it's just a desperate attempt to avoid being knocked in the head by a bludger."
"And it works?"
"Well," Ben started, thinking back to the first few times he attempted the move. He recalled several sprained wrists and a few bruised shoulders. "Mostly. Really, it's just a matter of-"
"Shit!"
Suddenly, Ben's center of gravity gave way as the Gryffindor girl shoved him bodily beneath the table with a strength that belied her slight form. Ben hissed as he struggled in her grasp, head hitting sharply against the table. If he ended up with another concussion…
"Hey, Peanut! We're heading down for dinner in ten minutes. You in?"
Of course. Peanut.
"Still working!" Ben heard her say. He shuffled a bit, trying to knock her hand off of his head. Did she really need to keep gripping him like that? "Not done!"
"Really?" Finn continued. "Don't overwork yourself, Rey. It's just extra credit."
"Can't talk! Need to finish charms!" she shouted clear across the room. Ben could practically hear the steam coming out of Motto's ears. By this point, they probably had ten minutes before both of them would be chucked out of the library on their asses.
"Lower your voice!" Ben hissed as he tugged downwards on her pant leg.
"Would you please stop moving," Rey whispered through gritted teeth.
Yeah. Not bloody likely. With a satisfied grin, Ben placed his palm on Rey's quad, creeping it ever upward. Her body tensed as his palm passed over her kneecap, still not stopping. She barely held in her screech as a swift kick connected with his shoulder. Worth it.
"Are you alright?"
"Fine, Finn! I just need privacy to get this done, okay?"
Ben heard him grumble, clearly suspicious as he exited the library. Finally free from Rey's grasp, Ben straightened out, his back sore from stooping beneath the table. "I don't think I've seen anyone so bad at keeping a secret," he told her.
"I didn't see you helping at all," said Rey as she pointed an accusing finger. "Did you really have to scuffle around like some creep down there?"
Ben couldn't help smirking. "I've been called worse."
"Unsurprising," Rey said, the annoyance still evident on her face as she slid his books back over to him. "We're done here."
Ben nodded. "Next round of flying is tomorrow night. Don't be late this time or I'm making you run laps around the pitch and scrub the quidditch hoops until they're spotless. No magic."
"I'd rather not have to subject myself to an hour of flying with some stupid, Slytherin pervert," she argued, wacking him in the arm.
"If I had a heart in my chest, I'd be wounded," Ben responded. "Let's do the math, shall we? In about a month and a half, we'll both have our next matches. Me against Ravenclaw and you Gryffs against Hufflepuff. That means we've got about six more meetings before then. Six more chances to improve that so-called flying. Six more sessions and you can't even wrap your head around a fucking sloth grip?" He scoffed and leaned back in his chair. "You're lucky this Slytherin pervert is giving you the time of day, let alone his expertise on the art of Quidditch."
"'Expertise' is a stretch."
"Expertise is what you'll be getting," he said matter-of-fact. "I know what I'm doing, Niima. You're going to have to trust me on this one. Otherwise, you might as well just hand the win over to Hufflepuff."
"We usually do well against Hufflepuff," Rey argued. "Last year's match was over in seventeen minutes."
"Usually," Ben agreed. "But it's a brand new team this year, Niima, and they are a well-oiled machine. Even Slytherin's keeping an eye on them. Rule number one in quidditch: never underestimate your opponent."
She sighed, clearly conceding defeat. "Fine. Proceed in teaching me, oh great one."
"Tomorrow we'll run drills to figure out the best way to compensate for those laggy turns you're taking on this poor excuse of a broom," Ben said as he grabbed Rey's Cleansweep and eyed it disdainfully. She scowled, but didn't argue.
"And this," he said as he reached over, grabbing one of Rey's hands. Carefully, he placed her fingers over the handle of the broom, his hands cupping hers as he perfected the placement. "This is how you position your hands for a sloth grip roll. Keep it flexible. Hold too tight and you're in danger of breaking your wrist if the bludger still hits."
He gripped her fingers softly, easing them so that her thumb loosened a bit more. The grin on her face as he slid his hands over hers was so wide that it seemed to brighten the room, and he was suddenly struck by the way the corners of her eyes crinkled in response. As he let go, Ben could swear he felt his fingertips tingling.
Oh, no.