Chapter 3: We Open At The Close
''Do you want to retire for the night?'' Albus asked conspiratorially, his eyes twinkling madly, as they sat in the common room after the New Year's Eve Feast.
Nerya was startled at first by the sudden question, but after she searched his face for a moment, she only narrowed her eyes at him playfully.
''And let you have all the fun without me?''
Albus chuckled slyly. ''Be back in a jiffy.'' And in the blink of an eye he darted out of his armchair.
''Oy!'' Nerya grabbed his hand in playful protestation. The mantra 'have control over the situation' had yet to stop buzzing in her head.
Albus ignored the goosebumps spreading on his skin and turned to her in innocent inquiry. Nerya let go off his hand with a blush and concentrated on his face. She tried to say something, but seemed to change her mind. ''Ehm… nothing. See you in a… jiffy.'' Her last word was rendered almost incomprehensible by her effort not to laugh.
''Jiffy is an excellent word!'' His face was a perfect depiction of a toddler that had just learned the truth about Santa Claus. He chose not to ask why she was hesitant, after all the times he had asked her and she hadn't seemed willing to answer. But also he didn't want to give her a chance to change her mind, because 'we couldn't have any such hiccup tonight, now could we?'
''You are the only person I know who can pull off a word like jiffy.'' Her face was a mixture of wonder and bewilderment.
Albus gaped for a second, swallowing his flow of counter-arguments that was the usual next stage of such conversations in general. Oh, the times Elphias had tried to explain to him that no normal young person who respected themselves would ever seriously say jiffy.
''Albus, you ok?'' she asked with a mixture of seriousness and amusement.
He shook his head. ''Yeah, fine, it's just- usually I…'' he stammered as a smile crept into his face. He collected himself and raised a finger at her. ''Never mind. Hold tight and wait for the jiffy to pass.'' before he finished his sentence he was already at the door.
More than two months had gone by and Nerya's ability to understand him still took him by surprise. Even in something so small, the use of a word. The need to explain himself simply didn't exist around Nerya. Every time, the novelty of relief and wonder washed over him, only for the familiar uneasiness, which Albus was very adamant in not thinking about, to overshadow it. He just knew that when he managed to get some answers for Nerya's mystery, all would become clear. And that's exactly what he told himself while ascending the stairs to his dorm.
Nerya settled in her armchair and waited for the more-than-usually energetic and suspiciously excited Albus to return; she suspected that she had just consented to a round of questions that she would have to answer untruthfully. Again.
The uneasiness that always followed her indulgings in him chewed on her brain; and it had increased in intensity these past few days. Her reckless nature was probably getting the better of her. Well, she didn't actually believe she was reckless; it was a word her mother constantly associated with her.
Every time, she thought she shouldn't allow herself to be lured in and almost every time she was swept away immediately afterwards. Now, with the Christmas break and the scarcity of other students and obligations, it had gotten even worse.
'Or even better…' she trailed away dreamily and then mentally slapped herself.
The more the days of the holidays had passed, the more she had kept spending a rapidly increasing amount of time with Albus. And it passed both so quickly and thrillingly slowly, that most days she thought it was still midday, but then glanced around and realised that the sun was already setting. So far, she had managed to keep it light and mostly avoid the inconvenient topics, by steering the conversation to more philosophical subjects, which had the additional perk of causing lengthy debates, keeping them busy for a couple of hours at least; both she and Albus had a weakness for them, after all.
She knew she shouldn't go after his company, nor say yes every time he proposed something; but one, they had so much fun together, and two, she could always say no next time, right?
Study together? Why not. A game of chess? Sure. A walk on the grounds? Absolutely. She had yet to find a next time to say no to.
So the loop was set. She tried to bring herself to decline, she gave in, she enjoyed herself immensely and felt uneasy –no, guilty was probably a better word- afterwards, only to start all over again. No matter how much scolding and mental abuse she bestowed upon herself, it didn't change the fact that those last few days had been the best time she had in what seemed like forever. Additionally, she couldn't remember the last time she only had a single matter troubling her mind, annoying her, or displeasing her in any way. With Albus, everything was perfect; her only immediate uneasiness was this… guilt.
While she watched the flames dance on the fireplace, a bee started buzzing in her mind: was she feeling guilty because she was indulging in Albus, and in this way providing proof of what her mother claimed to be her recklessness? Or was this about something else entirely? Something that didn't involve her mother and her own so-called recklessness at all? Why would she feel guilty about something that she didn't think she was being in the first place? What if that something was only relevant to the here and now? What if it concerned Albus? What if she was tired of untruthfulness?
Before she could muse further on this path, she was interrupted by a gentle tap on her shoulder. Before she knew it she was following Albus out the portrait hole and into the corridors. 'Well, my dear Mother,' she thought mischievously, 'if I am reckless then surely I'm entitled to yell a nice 'sod off!' to the consequences and then proceed to enjoying the guilt-free ride, am I not?' So she mirrored Albus' smile and continued their chatting.
Like that, the first hours of the New Year found them sitting on the pair of little steps of the astronomy classroom1, gazing in the night, side by side but keeping a respectable, shall we say, distance.
When a bottle of mead came out of Albus' pocket, Nerya merely raised a brow. But upon seeing Albus' too innocent expression -'even prefects can have a break on New Year's Eve'- she couldn't hold on her façade any longer.
''How on mid- earth did you manage to get this?'' She couldn't help but chuckle and also repeat her 'sod off!', this time to the mental scolding about keeping middle earth out of this.
''Not only Slytherins can be cunning and resourceful, in this midearth, that is.'' After his shoulder received a playful punch from Nerya, he placed a self – refilling charm on the bottle.
So they chatted and laughed, about various topics, topics Albus generally described as mundane. But, he sighed internally, no topic was mundane when discussed with Nerya. Everything was so easy and challenging at the same time, as it was from the first. But now they were alone in the middle of the night, in a purely social interaction, with no time limit and –hopefully- no interruptions.
Nerya proved to be a more seasoned drinker than him, though, because he was straining to keep up and he was feeling a bit dizzy already. When she filled his glass for the I-should-have-counted time and he playfully reproached her for her un-drunkenness, she only replied, shrugging dismissively, ''I don't get drunk easily.'' Albus' dizziness didn't prevent him from noticing the startled glimmer that for a fraction of a second had passed through her eyes.
After a couple more drinks and an in-depth analysis with many colourful and descriptive examples about what exactly the term 'reasonably intoxicated' entailed (''NO! it hasn't gotten to properly slurring yet, one simply misses some difficult consonants!'' ), Albus wouldn't restrain himself any longer. The time had come to make the most of these extremely allowing circumstances, which were an occasion unprecedented till now. Nerya wasn't nearly as light-headed as he would have liked, but nevertheless he took advantage of a pause between topics and made the leap.
''So, what do you usually do on New Year's Eve back home?'' his tone conversational, his polite-interest face put on, and he hoped his eyes didn't betray the ferocious need to get some answers at last.
Albus wouldn't have noticed her smiling expression almost invisibly falter, if he hadn't seen her body tensing. She slowly glanced at him and then quickly looked away again. 'I did take her by surprise,' he tried to keep victory away from his face, 'that's good; mead does indeed bring friends close and strangers closer.'
Ignorant of what was passing from Albus' head, a very sober Nerya (from alcohol at least) moistened her lips and hummed, as if she was thinking about how to begin (all she could think however was fuckfuckfuck); but Albus could see her eyes fluttering about in something like… panic?
His brows furrowed slightly, as he counted his breaths and put all mental effort into unfogging his mind. He should really focus more on his Occlumency, it comes in handy in situations like this.
'Why panic?' he thought, incredulous. Nerya had been guarded when such questions arose, that much was true, but she had always had the words ready till now. He could only see her profile, and he was in a daze, so he dismissed the panic thing and focused on her hesitation. At least that was obvious.
She inhaled as if in a collect-your-thoughts way while she slowly turned her face towards him, but instead of saying something, she settled her gaze on him, her hand supporting her chin; time seemed to slow down, or it was Albus' mind that had started to work in the speed of light.
Her eyes were conveying something he had never before seen them do. It was like they were calculating, he thought, as he felt his heartbeat rise under the intensity of her gaze. But he wasn't disconcerted by that. The warm feeling in his stomach intensified.
Nerya was measuring him, trying to decide how much she could say! That was breath-takingly new. Tonight he had only dared to hope for breadcrumbs, slippings of her tongue, and now she was contemplating just giving him the entire loaf!
But, how come? Alcohol might have made her more unguarded but she was still in control of herself, and nothing so crude could urge her to suddenly talk. And about a matter, no less, that she had managed to keep so very private, that everyone didn't even suspect that she wasn't as open as she seemed; well, everyone except him, but he had been scrutinizing her every day from the beginning.
No, alcohol wouldn't have stopped Nerya from continuing in the same reserved manner she had until now; and it is possible that she had almost chosen that way, Albus supposed in the blink of an eye. She had pretended to think, possibly trying to buy some time to gather her mind and, maybe answer in her usual way?
But instead she had chosen to turn towards him with her eyes, beautiful and pensive. Why?
Even though his string of thought was far from tidy and eloquent, consisting of half words and overlapping surmises, normally Albus would still have inflated like a peacock at the efficiency his intoxicated mind had shown within a few seconds. Alas, his attention was stolen away, his eyes widened in realisation; had Nerya come to trust him? He thought his heart would burst. He was getting one step nearer to the answer of this delicious puzzle.
But then, all mental activity died out immediately. Albus saw something else emerge from the depths of those brilliant eyes; it lessened Nerya's glow and creased her face. And that did disconcert him a great deal.
She was fearful of something.
Words spontaneously erupted from his lips.
''You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to or are uncomfortable with.''
His voice sounded like a bit more than a whisper and his eyes were tender but firm. A flicker of something – could it be surprise? – passed from Nerya's face as she softened slightly and then turned her gaze away again.
Albus was grateful she couldn't see his face, because he was sure that surprise and a bit of panic were peeping through his expression as well.
'Did I just spontaneously sabotage my own goal? And felt relief doing it?' If his tie and top button weren't undone, he would have reached up to undo them. 'Dear me, for the love of Godric Gryffindor and all the courageous chaps in the land, what is this thing I'm feeling?' He discreetly downed the rest of his drink in one gulp.
These thoughts were interrupted by Nerya's voice, gentle but sure, so he pushed them away.
''For my people, the last day of our year is called Mettare. We celebrate more or less like you do, I suppose, with music and dancing, food and drink.''
Albus remained silent and a bit wide-eyed as Nerya turned to look into his eyes. He listened to what she was willing to share, things not far away from what other people do. About laughter and stories and tears, misunderstandings, friends and family. How Mettare was the last day of the year and Yestare was the first. The names didn't seem very Russian to him, but he wasn't an expert in everything. And above all else, he just couldn't doubt or double check, because he was too busy listening attentively, watchful for that fearful look again, ready to turn the conversation to something else if he saw it. But the look wouldn't come.
Some time passed and they had fallen into an easy story telling; the warmth in Albus' stomach had become pulses of contentment running down his torso as he laughed with her tales of practical jokes, awkward flirting and improvisations of teasing songs. He couldn't guess why she wouldn't want to share something as common as all this, but all he knew was that Nerya was relaxed again now, still a bit careful, but not as much as before. And she was talking about her home, for Circe's sake! Maybe not completely openly, maybe not for everything, but he couldn't bring himself to care; he was lost in wonder and joy, and at the same time he was feeling guilty but grateful that his perseverance didn't cause any true damage. He took his turn in sharing a few weird personal stories too, something that he had scarcely done before.
'How did I dare to even consider pushing her,' was the thought that passed from Albus' mind while regaling about Aberforth bringing the goats to the Christmas table when he was 5 years old. 'I've barely shared anything of the sort either. Thinking alcohol might loosen her up! As if Nerya could be tricked by something like that. Dear Merlin, I'm a despicable human being. Despicable, ugly and what's worse, idiotic. What worth would her unwilling sharings have? Why am I so obsessed with this?' With some bitterness, which he tried to conceal by looking away for a few moments, he filed those thoughts away for later.
They kept sipping their mead, companionably chatting and laughing, Nerya's pause wasn't forgotten exactly, more like put aside, as they both focused on their relief and enjoyment. Albus had never had so many lengthy conversations with the same person without getting bored or run out of topics. The people he usually talked with, though, didn't share his passion for such conversations, and they weren't able to finish Albus' sentences either. But Nerya could and did, and she seemed to enjoy it when he did it to her as much as he did when receiving it from her. A new level of trust had enfolded them; an omerta they shared cheerfully and fondly, if not somewhat guarded still.
She was now talking about her friends -the people she mainly hung out with, she clarified- and what they were up to before she came here.
''They are nine in number, with me ten. Though I mostly hang out with three of them: Anarion, Tarastan and Ildon'' she explained quietly.
''You have more in common with them, than the rest?'' Albus asked before he sipped his mead.
''Nah, not really. They are just less uptight and proper. Real troublemakers, actually.'' She took a sip from her glass too.
''But you don't join in much, I gather? Or are you something of a counsellor?'' he studied her with a gentle smile.
She grinned widely. ''Indeed, you are correct. Though they hardly ever need me. And I'm- well, I have enough trouble in my life as it is.'' Upon Albus' quizzical look, she explained disapprovingly. ''My family is the proper type. They would prefer it if I chose more suitable people to spend my time with. They disapprove of Tarastan especially. Even if I wanted to participate, I would have stayed away from their pranks, because if my family found out, they would be out for a bit of a scolding.''
''But you refuse to give in?'' Albus noted more than asked.
''Indeed, I do.'' They chuckled. ''If it weren't for Tarastan, I would have no one at all.''
Albus tried to ignore the tightening in his stomach. He looked in his cup and tried to keep his voice cheerful. ''A very special friend, then?''
He heard Nerya exhale. ''Honestly? No.''
Albus dared a glance at her, his stomach still a knot. ''Something more, perhaps?''
Nerya turned to him abruptly, wide-eyed. ''Oh, no. Certainly not. Something less is more like.''
The look of almost horror in her face slowed Albus' heartbeat. The question 'why was your heart beating like frenzy in the first place?' was forcefully pushed away to join all the other things he had stored for later consideration.
''Your face is warning me against asking why not…'' he replied warily, and she smirked slyly. ''But I'll take my chances, anyway.'' he shrugged it off and looked greedily interested.
Nerya let out a laugh. Upon seeing Albus' expecting expression, she sighed thoughtfully. ''He is just very… useful.'' Her nose furrowed a bit; she searched his face, but there was just a small smirk, like he was suspecting what she meant. Nerya bit back her smile, continued drinking in his twinkling eyes. ''We don't really communicate, but he –all three of them- they are… funny and simple, and very complicated at the same time… they had their share of difficulties, but they don't give up… They find strength in the smallest of things…'' she trailed away passionately.
Albus couldn't help the sweet grin that was spreading on his face, as he felt his entire body go numb.
''Once,'' Nerya started fondly, still looking away, ''they had found themselves before our ruler, for some destruction or other of their making, and they were waiting for her judgement…''
But Albus as hard as he tried, couldn't bring himself to pay attention. He barely refrained from shaking his head, in an effort to clear it. His dizziness was far too much to allow that however, and it was fortified by the feelings, so many feelings he didn't know he was capable of experiencing at the same time, rushing out from the very depth of his existence, overflowing him. He was on the point of panic when he finally managed to push to the back of his mind his wonder, awe, fondness and so many other unspeakable things.
Unspeakable things.
His attention was caught by the fact that the pile of things for later consideration had become far too big in the last few hours, hours he had spent simply sitting and chatting. Was that reasonable? No other hang-out had ever produced any such outcome, neither in quantity, nor in intensity. Yes, he was drunk, but alcohol could only unveil what was already there; for those thoughts to come so uninvited at such an inappropriate time and to be so nagging and insistent, they needed to pre-exist. And if they pre-existed, how come he wasn't aware of them? Or maybe he had chosen not to be aware of them?
'Now is not the time,' he urged his mind to clear itself, pushed all the thinking about the thinking he had to do to the back of his brain again. He was about to congratulate himself in how efficient he had become in suppressing things that unnerved him, when-
''Albus?'' Nerya's voice, not so much ringing now, more like tentative, broke his thoughts again – why did he keep getting lost in his mind when there was another mind, a wonderful mind, right here?
Albus hadn't realised there had been a short silence. He heard Nerya calling his name again and felt her hand on his thigh. A shiver trailed his spine and he barely prevented his eyes from fluttering close. He turned to her and found her closer to him than he expected; his breath hitched. Her hair was a bit dishevelled from the humidity and possibly the drinking, but she was calm and bright, as always, and she wore an amused smirk. His heart skipped a beat.
''Would you like to go back to the tower?''
''No, absolutely not!'' he said a bit too hastily. Upon Nerya's raised brow and smirk, he explained ''I'm not tired, just got lost there for a second… I'm sorry I-''
''Oh, come on Albus, no need for that, surely!'' She reproached him, but her eyes were warm and sincere, and amusement was curling her lips. ''But if there is something that is… troubling you?'' she inquired, beaming and with an interested greed in her eyes, one that he knew too well from personal experience.
Albus tried to ignore the shiver that overtook his entire body. So much light and brilliance, again and again. He found himself doubting she existed. He shook his head literally this time.
''Nah, I'm probably just drunk.'' He snorted disdainfully, missing Nerya's amusedly suspicious look. Abruptly, he clapped his hands and continued more energetically. ''What do you think about indulging the criminal 'poems and not jokes in the New Year's crackers', otherwise known as our gracious Headmaster, and read that poem from the Fëa st?''
Nerya just laughed and fished out the poem, mentally noting to herself to discover the reason behind Albus' unusual distraction.
''And I shall enjoy it, if it's all the same with you, by stretching my legs a bit.'' He unfolded his legs and got ready to stand up.
Nerya turned to face him in mock shock. ''So I'll have to read the poem then?''
''You know how I love to hear your voice.''
''No, I didn't actually know that.''
Albus straightened, still sitting on the steps, and shot her a sideways glance. His tongue had slipped; he said the words spontaneously, understanding them just after they were out. Nerya was looking at him playfully. 'Albus, you oaf, will you stop making things awkward? She's just pulling your leg. Now save it, play the game.' Albus narrowed his eyes and tilted his head in mock suspicion, looking straight in those playful violet eyes.
''Oh, shut up, you big fisher of compliments.'' He said dismissively. Nerya only giggled archly.
And with a sigh, Albus tried to rise from the steps where he was seated, to go to the railing to get some air on his face. He also tried to ignore the fact that his tongue usually never slipped or that the twisting in his guts a few minutes ago was a product of jealousy; tried to remember – again - that it was impossible, unreasonable to be attracted to a girl. He didn't really manage to succeed in any of the above though.
Instead, he managed to slip. He was about to land with his back on the steps, when he put his hand beneath him, in an effort to soften his fall. And feeling too dizzy to do anything more, he stayed like that for a couple of seconds, an elbow on the top step and the heels of his stretched legs on the floor of the lower level being the only parts of him touching the ground, while the rest of him was hanging in mid-air.
Nerya yelped and then started giggling, but before she could reach out to help, Albus' heels slipped even further, landing him flat on the steps. Nerya welcomed him with another giggle. Albus suppressed a moan and stayed on his back; he looked up at her, put a mock face of utter control and airiness and exclaimed, ''well I don't suppose any of your friends can do that!''
Nerya gave a humourless chuckle under her breath and helped him sit up. Albus was about to curse again whatever in Circe's name had possessed him tonight, when her voice broke into his mind like fireworks.
''True. No matter their merits, they are nothing like-'' you. She panicked. ''I mean, they often disappoint.''
A silence fell, Nerya grimaced, unhappy with her choice of words. Albus was trying very hard not to think what an unusually utter wanker he had repeatedly proven to be in the last few hours and to make sure that no other ridiculous punchline would come out of his mouth. Brilliant mind and Merlin's bollocks. Where was it now that he needed it the most? But of course, he thought disdainfully, he was always ready to analyse others; facing his own truth was his real difficulty.
Nerya was rapidly tensing more and more. This pause didn't feel like the one before. Why did Albus look like he was constipated? She had to explain that she would never normally say anything so idiotic, she didn't mean that they were disappointing, only that they didn't understand her like he did! After a few moments she stammered uncomfortably.
''It's not like that… I didn't mean… I-''
Albus only then seemed to notice her uneasiness. Startled, he shot out his hand to touch her arm. Nerya stopped mumbling and focused on the sensation of his skin on hers.
''You don't need to explain that, I understand it perfectly well! I feel like that too!'' he exclaimed, his tone would be close to offended, if his eyes weren't warm.
She suddenly slumped. ''Oh.'' her face a mask of bewilderment. ''It's just, that it sounded wrong, one would have thought…'' She searched his face, she couldn't explain the amused fondness that was taking over it. She stayed drinking him in and absently mumbled, ''It's not their fault that I am so strange and difficult to please.''
Albus' eyes were roaming her face, his tone absent as well. ''I find that when two parties seem to not be able to please each other, it's not about failure or fault or strangeness; it's a matter of incompatibility.''
Gratefulness was one thing Albus had never seen in Nerya's face till now. But here it was, plain as day. Albus couldn't even begin to analyse what this expression entailed. He was lost in serene bliss; he had dove into this violet sea, which had laid itself just a breath away from his face. He licked his lips.
Nerya cracked a smile, tried to lighten the mood, unsure if Albus was comfortable with the path they had found themselves in. Her eyes didn't dare to leave his, though.
''So, you misspoke.''
Albus was startled out of his reverence and all he could say was ''I did?''
''You said it's not a matter of strangeness. Doesn't it take two different types of strangenesses for incompatibility to exist?''
And with that it was Nerya's turn to melt, any efforts to appear playful were dissolving into heart-braking elation. Wonder was palpable in the atmosphere. Albus' eyes were ablaze as he was overwhelmed by all the excitement, surprise and a kind of awe that this raven-headed starlight's mind had awoken in him; It wasn't so much about what she had said, he knew those cocky witticisms were a weakness of them both; his surprise was about the fact that what she had said was once again his thoughts precisely; they could indulge in their weakness, together and without fear of a pestering reprimand. 'So that's what it feels like, to have someone who speaks your language', was all he could think.
His mind had stopped working; his heart was the only thing filling his conscience. They were so alike. He abruptly came to the realisation that he had made a fool of himself in his efforts to ignore this fact and how much it affected him. He had tried to hide behind studyings and academical interests, but he didn't have any energy left for that anymore. Moisture glistened in Albus' unblinking eyes.
He wasn't alone in the world.
As he got lost in the wonderful bliss he was feeling for the first time, Nerya wanted to cry and laugh, all at once; she wanted to close the gap between them and kiss those tears, those eyes… those lips.
They tore their eyes from each other; both were lost in their thoughts, none of them sure of what to do next. None of them wanting to presume certainty over the feelings of the other, especially when they were barely grasping their own.
Nerya's mind didn't know where to direct her attention first, as two realisations were finally properly sinking in. Albus was trying to focus on his breathing, slow his heart. Nerya was feeling light-headed, not from the mead, but from so many other things, chemicals in her brain were rocketing to dizzying heights. The cogwheels in Albus' head were turning so very quickly, but the epiphany they provided made him feel their speed as if in slow motion. They both had many internal discussions waiting for them, but each also felt a pull on their stomach, gravitating their soul to the person sitting next to them.
The Gryffindor inside Albus finally woke up after a while. He cleared his throat softly and when Nerya turned her face inquiringly to him, he saw that she was endeavouring to keep her mind focused on the here and now too. Where her thoughts were travelling he couldn't say, but he had already decided to first clear his mind, before attempting to figure out hers.
''I feel I ought to… offer an apology.'' He uttered with a sigh.
Nerya's genuine puzzlement was the most effective way to focus. ''Whatever for?''
Albus was baffled. ''For invading your privacy… n-not just tonight, but… from the first.'' He replied and his genuinely remorseful look only intensified Nerya's bewilderment.
''Albus, you were curious about information that most people share freely anyway. I wouldn't call what you did an invasion to my privacy.'' Her tone was almost reproachful. ''And, if it makes you feel any better, I would have done the same thing if you were the one being secretive about something so plain. And knowing me, it would probably be far more intrusive and insistent.'' She chuckled bitterly.
Albus' lips twitched, before he conceded, ''and I would have been disappointed in you if you hadn't. But-'' he noticed her bright face and her smirk and gave her a look like she was missing something obvious. ''But I tried to take advantage of the situation, to make you say what you obviously for your should-have-been respected reasons didn't want to say!'' he protested like he was trying to explain the full extent of his sin, with a bit of a blush, but his bemusement was spoiled by the curling of his lips.
''And I wouldn't like you half as much if you hadn't!'' She exclaimed and immediately blushed too.
They stayed looking unblinkingly at each other for a moment, before they both snorted in laughter.
Albus just watched her for a second, amused and bewildered. ''You like me because I tend to interrogate you?''
''You were the one that admitted it first!'' she protested between a snort and a giggle.
As silent chuckles were rocking him still, Albus took a deep breath. ''So what have we learned, tonight?''
''Apart from that we are two very creepy individuals who like each other, you mean?'' she retorted with a chuckle.
''I suppose that covers it excellently.'' his laughter faded into a smile as he drank her in, his eyes telling Nerya something that she wouldn't have wanted to know, if she wasn't feeling this way too.
''This conversation was…'' he started with a mixture of wonder, inquiry and relief.
''Completely unnecessary?'' Nerya finished his thought, with a wide grin.
Albus couldn't do anything else than breathlessly stare at her. And Nerya couldn't do anything but the same.
Their moment was invaded by the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs. Nerya stopped as she saw Albus looking towards the door uneasily.
''Better not be found here, then?''
''Yes, better not, yes.'' He extinguished the blue flame that kept them warm, vanished the bottle and glasses. He turned to Nerya to help her up, but she was already up and going to the corner of the room the furthest away from the door. He joined her there quickly and a bit unsteadily. Nerya had taken care of the silencing and the Notice-me-not charm around them, so he just dropped down beside her, back against the wall, and said in a lighter tone,
''At least there is a reason to rejoice in incompatibility.''
''Oh, I was sure you would go for a punchline.'' Nerya teased him with narrowed eyes, smiling in amusement.
The caretaker didn't leave time for Albus to answer, because at that moment he barged in, with his wand lit, probably checking around. The pair snuggled close, trying to stay silent and unnoticeable, just in case. Both grinning like fools, they waited, stealing a few glances at each other. When the caretaker exited the room, they didn't break apart.
''Oh, Albus?'' Nerya sung.
''Yes, dear?''
''Do you by any chance know what is the single good thing that incompatibility provides?'' Nerya asked.
Albus rested his head on the wall, his eyes fixed on her's.
''I think, dear, that if everyone were like us, all languages would be extinct.''
A/N: Let me know what you think!