Wicked
Present Day…
Adam Young was ecstatic. Being chosen as the first Triwizard Tournament Champion since Professor Fell’s time was an honor and privilege that he meant to take seriously.
Right after he was selected, he, along with Brian, Pepper and Wensleydale, had gone to the library to continue their research on the trials faced by previous competitors.
“Dragons? For a first task? That seems… a little extreme, don’t you think?”
Glancing up from his own book, Adam met Wensleydale’s troubled gaze.
“I mean, yeah. But obviously they had protections setup—they’re not barbaric.”
Wensleydale swallowed, glancing down at his book. “Well, they never mentioned any safety precautions… ”
Now, Brian cut in. “Well obviously, who wants to hear about boring old rules when there are bloody dragons!”
Pepper rolled her eyes. “Oh Merlin, grow up Brian. If you haven’t noticed, Wensleydale is reading the Ministry’s Triwizard Tournament Regulations Guide. If anything would have details on the ‘boring’ rules that keep champions safe, it’d be that book.”
Adam frowned, feeling a stir of uneasiness. “So, there’s no mention of security measures? Like… at all?”
“I—erm—” Wensleydale frantically flipped through the pages. “—oh no. I’m afraid not.”
“Of course they don’t take safety seriously.” Pepper added, her voice taking on that passionate inflection that arose whenever she got seriously upset by a topic (a rather frequent occurrence), “I mean, look at the patterns. Even Quidditch! It’s an abnormally dangerous sport, and yet it’s so commonplace. In the muggle world, anything that dangerous would be outright banned!”
“Yeah, well, don’t muggles do extreme sports n’ stuff?” Brian asked. He was the only one out of the group who had not yet learnt to keep his mouth shut when Pepper got into a tizzy.
“Extreme sports are hardly a comparison Brian! I mean it’s such an absurd correlation. For one, extreme sports are usually only practiced by professionals, not students who are going to school for an education! Furthermore, muggles have so much protection in place! They’ve developed all this cool new technology! Stuff that we can’t even do with magic! And the fact that people still look down on them—ugh. It just makes me so angry.”
“Trust me.” Adam mock-whispered to Wensleydale. “We know.”
Pepper huffed. “Fine! If you don’t want to hear about the injustices of the world, I guess I’ll just shut up then.”
Wensleydale winced before interjecting, reasonable as always. “Um. I’m sure what you have to say is really interesting Pepper, but right now we need to focus on keeping Adam safe. Especially if the adults aren’t going to do anything.”
Pepper deflated. “Yeah. Sorry. Got a bit carried away there.”
“So… what’re we gonna do?” Brian asked. “I mean, the Triwizard Tournament is wicked and all, but if Adam’s in danger doing it… ”
“I can’t back out now though.” Adam interrupted. “I can’t let down the school! Plus, I’m contractually obligated to finish the tournament unless I want to pay a fine. And quite honestly, my mum and da don’t have that kind of money.”
“Well then.” Pepper stated firmly. “I guess we’ll just need to figure out our own plan. We’ll find out what the trials are and help you prepare.”
Adam nodded gratefully, finding himself feeling a bit better about the whole situation. “Thank you guys.”
“Eh, don’t sweat it man. You’d do the same for us.” Brian replied. “But, um, I think Professor Fell is trying to get your attention.”
Turning around, Adam noticed the librarian behind his desk, waving over at him exuberantly, attracting far more attention than need be.
“I’d best get going then.”
“Yeah. Guess so. Tell us what it’s about when you're back, yeah?”
“For sure. See you guys.”
“See ya.”
Present Day…
Crowley waited in the Room of Requirements, tapping his cane on the floor impatiently.
Aziraphale had offered to go fetch Adam, after a concerned glance at Crowley’s legs. At first, Crowley had grumbled, but had acquiesced soon after as the throbbing in his hips continued to send shooting pain up his lower back.
If he had not promised to help train the competitors, he’d be in his quarters right now, with a heat pack and potion on stand by. Instead, he was here, preparing to violate the rules of a Ministry sanctioned event.
Fuck Beelzebub and Gabriel. Crowley thought savagely. No amount of money is ever worth risking student lives.
“Crowley? We’re outside. We’d be terribly grateful if you could—”
Crowley swung open the door. “Just knock next time, Fell. And for Merlin’s sake, don’t say my name so freely. We could get in big trouble.”
“Oh yes. Slipped my mind.”
Aziraphale came in, followed by a befuddled looking Adam.
Crowley couldn’t hold himself back. “You idiot. You just had to put your name in the running, didn’t you?”
Adam looked around the room, before proceeding to completely ignore the reprimand. “Where are we?”
“Oh! I can answer that!” Aziraphale began with exuberance. “This is the Come and Go Room! It’s a bit of a secret among the staff. I found it during my seventh year. It takes form based on your needs, you merely need to wish it into being!”
“That’s so cool!” Adam exclaimed.
“Don’t get excited yet.” Crowley interrupted. “You still don’t know why we called you here.”
“Well, I haven’t done anything bad, so I can’t be in trouble, right?”
Crowley raised his eyes to the heavens, as if pleading to a higher power.
“You're not in trouble Adam.” Aziraphale began, undeterred by Crowley’s dramatics. “In fact, it’s quite the opposite. We’re here to, oh, how do I put it… ”
“...we’re here to make sure you don’t die a gruesome and grisly death.” Crowley continued snappishly, ignoring the way both Aziraphale and Adam flinched at his wording. “We’re here to train you, against all common sense.”
“O-oh…”
Aziraphale placed a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder, sending a sharp look Crowley's way.
“What the professor means to say dear, is that we want to help you prepare for the trials. And not just you—all the competitors. The Tournament is a rather dangerous venture, I’m afraid, and we want to make sure you all go in ready to face anything.”
“Really?” Adam asked, glancing doubtfully between his two teachers. “You two?”
Crowley and Aziraphale winced in tandem, remembering the last time they had worked together for a school event. It had ended up with two students strapped to the roof and a caved in wall—Gabriel had been irate. So much so that Crowley had been sure he was about to be fired.
“Yes. Us two.” Crowley replied. “We’re the best people for the job.”
Aziraphale nodded. “Quite so. We both have experience in the Tournament after all.”
At this, Adam’s jaw dropped to the floor as he spun around to his herbology professor.
“You were in the tournament? How did I not know this!?”
Crowley tapped his cane on the ground, face sour. His eyes met Aziraphale’s. “It’s not the most pleasant memory.”
Adam paled as he connected the dots. “Oh—I didn’t realize. Sorry sir.”
Crowley kept eye contact with the librarian until Aziraphale swallowed and glanced away. Then, he turned his attention back to Adam. “Nothing to apologize for. And anyways, we’re here to make sure nothing like this happens to you, or anybody else. That is, so long as you are willing to commit to your training and are able to keep it a complete secret.”
Adam nodded quickly. “Yes, yes, of course!”
“Splendid!” Aziraphale exclaimed, voice still a little tense. “Then, we’ll begin with you before Crowley and I attempt to convince the champions from other schools. How are your shielding charms?”
“I’d say they’re passable sir.”
“Well then.” Crowley murmured, raising his own wand. “Let’s see if you can back up that claim. Stupify!”
Adam flicked his own wand, and a purplish shielding charm absorbed the blast. But once it had taken the hit, Adam let go of the spell, only to be hit by an expelliarmus that Crowley had cast wordlessly and wandlessly.
“Your first lesson.” Crowley began as he caught Adam’s wand. “Never let your guard down.”
Adam blinked, dazed. Then… “Wicked sir!”
Crowley groaned. Aziraphale chuckled.
“There is nothing wicked about it.” Crowley grunted. “You could have been dueling someone to the death. Upkeeping a defense at all times while maintaining malleable spellwork is a skill we are going to have to bake into you, until you can do it like second nature.”
“Will you teach me how to cast silently sir?”
Aziraphale clapped his hands. “Oh, of course! Crowley’s always been partial to wandless magic! He’d known how to do it even before he got to Hogwarts!”
“You knew each other at Hogwarts?” Adam asked. “Were you close?”
Aziraphale paused, flustered. Before he could respond, Crowley cut in.
“No. Never knew the man.”
“Oh okay.” Adam murmured, failing to pick up on the dry bitterness in the words. “So… silent casting. How’d you do it so easily?”
Crowley shrugged, shoulders tight. “Must’ve picked it up somewhere.”
He ignored the knowing look Aziraphale shot his way, no doubt full of pity.
“Anyway… we’ll start with theory today. The core concepts behind wandless casting is channeling. Wands are focused conduits that wizards today have gotten far too used to using. But they’re only crutches to the fundamental power that flows through our veins… ”
Back Then…
“Crowley! Crowley? Are you alright?”
No I’m not bloody alright. Crowley thought savagely. I can’t fucking breathe.
“Oh Crowley.”
Aziraphale lowered himself to his knees next to his partner. Once he had gotten as comfortable as possible on the harsh stone floor, he wrapped his arms around the shuddering form of his boyfriend, only to be shocked away by what was a wandless, wordless stinging charm.
“D-don’t touch me.” Crowley murmured desperately, clutching at his chest.
“You’re having a panic attack, Crowley.” Aziraphale murmured kindly. “I know it seems impossible, but you really need to take a deep breath. That’s it—just so.”
Crowley gasped, coughing slightly as his lungs filled with cold, crisp air. With more prompting from Aziraphale, he made the momentous effort to repeat the attempt until the sweat on his brow had cooled and the panic had uncoiled from his chest.
“Shit.” Crowley murmured, running a weary hand down his face. “Sorry Zira.”
“No need for apologies darling.” Aziraphale replied. “Your reaction was perfectly normal.”
“But the Triwizard Tournament?” Crowley murmured. “I didn’t even put my name in! And they know I can’t afford the cost of backing out.”
“I know dearest. I would pay for it if I could. I’m so sorry.”
Crowley sighed, turning his head and burying it into his partner’s neck.
“Crowley?”
The aforementioned wizard hummed against his partner's skin.
“Since when could you cast spells wandlessly?”
Shit.
Pulling back, Crowley examined his boyfriend. Noting the redness across his arm, Crowley cursed. “Merlin Zira! I didn’t mean for that to happen. You should’ve told me earlier. Fuck.”
Standing up, still feeling rather unsteady, Crowley grabbed his wand and cast a healing spell, feeling his throat tighten with guilt.
All Aziraphale had tried to do was help him, and he’d repaid that kindness with pain.
Shoulda been left on the goddamn streets.
“Oh don’t worry about that my dear. A stinging hex is hardly the worst I’ve gone through. And don’t think I don’t see what you’re trying to do. Don’t deflect dearest. Being able to cast wandlessly is extraordinary. My father still hasn’t mastered it.”
Crowley scowled, turning away. “S not a big deal.”
“It really is my dear. It’s quite impressive, if I do say so myself.”
Crowley felt his face heat. “Ngk.”
“Oh, don’t tell me if that’s what you wish. I was merely curious.” Aziraphale sighed, biting his lip. “I just sometimes feel that… oh. It’s so stupid… ”
“Nothing you feel is stupid angel.”
Aziraphale rubbed his eyes. “I guess I just don’t know much about you. I mean, I know you love your plants like they’re your children. And that you’d murder anybody that even tried to touch your broom. And the way that your nose scrunches whenever I try to get you to eat anything. But you’ve never told me about your life, you know. Your family.”
Crowley felt himself go cold.
“O-oh.”
Aziraphale sighed again, a sad, exhausted sound, and Crowley felt ill at the noise.
“I don’t—erm. I don’t have a family, Zira.” Crowley murmured. “Grew up in an orphanage most’ve my life. Was told my parents didn’t want me. And then, when I was nine, the orphanage couldn’t keep up anymore. Kicked us all out on the streets. Spent the next two years of my life scavenging around to keep alive. ‘S not something I like talking about.”
“Oh lord Crowley.” Aziraphale murmured, placing a supportive kiss on his boyfriend's nose. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
Crowley grunted, fiddling with the sunglasses he had taken off earlier. “It’s in the past now. No big deal. And anyways, living on the streets wasn’t all that bad. Taught me how to control my accidental magic, didn’t it? I was one of the lucky ones, if I’m honest.”
Aziraphale snorted. “And here I thought my father was bad.”
“We don’t need to compare shitty childhoods, Zira.” Crowley murmured. “We got through it. Now we just have to survive this.”
Aziraphale nodded, his eyes meeting Crowley’s. “Yeah. We’ve got to beat this tournament.”
Crowley laughed a little wetly. “Piece of cake, eh? They don’t know what’s coming for them.”
“No.” Aziraphale replied, his eyes flinted with steel. “No, they don’t.”
Taking Crowley’s hand in his own, Aziraphale swore to himself that no matter what happened, he’d try his damndest to protect his partner, no matter the cost.
Unfortunately for them both, Aziraphale did not have the foresight to realize that it was that very pledge that would end up shattering the fragile bond between them.