Green light was everywhere: through the windows, the lamps and even the fireplace. It coated the Slytherin common room whole, including the boy sitting right amidst the gothic disarray that it was.
Of course, the only seventh year who'd be careless enough to sit in the middle of the common room reading at three in the morning was Fyodor. He adored being alone, and despite everyone in the house being somewhat strange, he still found a way to push a lot of his peers away. His issue was coming off as pretentious to almost everyone he met, approaching almost every conversation with boasting about his grades or talking about whatever Russian novel he'd recently taken up as 'light reading'. No one knew whether he was aware of this habit or not, but most assumed so.
This now raises the question: why the hell was he hearing footsteps at the end of the hall?
"Fyodor? Oh, I knew you'd be down here!" The intrudor yelled out, earning an eye roll from the raven.
"Do you ever stop being so obnoxious, Gogol? I nearly mistook your voice for that of a stray creature." His comment reeked of sarcasm. Nikolai was never Fyodor's favourite person; he did nothing with his time other than pull awful pranks, and found that a boy who prioritised his personal space was a perfect target for them. He most likely knew that himself, too - the white haired boy wasn't stupid, as much as it pained Fyodor to admit - but he stuck around anyway.
"You're even crueler when it's late, Dostoy, how will I ever recover from your words?" Nikolai spoke with a sarcastic tone, matching the other's. When he finally got to the lounge area he sat right next to the other on the black leather sofa, leaving only a few inches keeping their thighs from touching. He was still wearing his uniform, as was Fyodor, but the latter still found it strange despite the hypocrisy - Nikolai should've been asleep by now, after all.
Fyodor always wondered what was going through Nikolai's head for him to be so easy-going about pretty much everything. He seemed to want Fyodor's company even through all the rumours and unpleasant experiences that people associated with him, it was curious. Nikolai wasn't the most loved person on campus either - he had a few friends here and there, but his personality was an immediate sign for most people to avoid interacting with him - but it still suprised Fyodor that he belonged to the small group of people that talked to him willingly.
When he didn't get a reply, Nikolai continued into a different topic. "So, I saw you dancing at the Yule Ball earlier." A teasing grin spead onto his face. "I didn't think you were going to, really. I even started a bet about it, which I of course lost." The whole time he spoke, the grin never fell for even a second.
Fyodor found it humilliating that he was seen dancing; even though he knew that telling himself no one had seen him was an idiotic with, he still secretly hoped it was the case. He was one of the three Triwizard Champions after somehow being convinced to put his name in the goblet. The other two were Chuuya Nakahara from Durmstrang and Lucy Maud Montgomery from Beauxbatons, whom he was hoping would've stolen his spotlight the whole night.
The boy was obviously starting to get slightly embarrassed about the subject, Nikolai wondered how much it damaged his pride to dance in front of the whole school. "You made a bet over me?" he replied, his tone slightly colder than before. His eyes were still down on the book, but he'd stopped reading once the ball was mentioned.
Being shameless as can be, Nikolai replied happily. "Yeah! Sigma said because you were going with Dazai he'd convince you to do it, as well as the fact that you're a Triwizard champion and whatnot. I was convinced you had too much pride to even participate in the main dance, if I'm being honest."
The book that'd been in Fyodor's hands for the past hour or so was suddenly slammed shut at the mention of Dazai, then borderline thrown onto the table. The brunette had asked him out multiple times until he couldn't bear to keep denying him anymore, and even though the night was spent well Fyodor suspected that Dazai had his own selfish motives for asking him to go (seeing as he caught the other winking at Nakahara multiple times). He crossed his arms and finally looked up at Nikolai, figuring ignoring him was of no use since there was obviously something else he wanted to say. Dark eyes met lighter ones and the shock that was apparent on Nikolai's face almost made Fyodor laugh, but he only showed the other a light, prideful smirk.
"Don't use me as the subject of your bets, I want nothing to do with it." Fyodor still wasn't quite enthusiastic, but taking his slight frustration out on the book definitely helped make his tone lighter, even if just a bit.
Nikolai quickly got over the shock from the sudden outburst and replied. "Well if the devil himself is asking, I can't deny his wishes." His grin was back, and it made Fyodor painfully nervous for no apparent reason. What was he even thinking - that Nikolai was smirking about some idiotic prank he just came up with? But he couldn't be scared, could he? That's ridiculous. The topic ended up better off ignored than dwelled on. "But, if I may ask," the white haired boy continued. "Are you really prepared for the next stage? It's only a few days from now."
Fyodor's look turned into a slight glare at his questioning. "I've been just fine until now, Gogol, I don't need your worries." he snapped.
His tone was absolutely ignored by Nikolai. Actually, instead of backing off like he was meant to, he got even closer, making it so their legs were pressed together completely. Fyodor would've backed away if it weren't for the fact that he was at the very edge of the sofa. As if the situation couldn't get any worse for him, Nikolai then brought his face closer, too (in enthusiasm, Fyodor assumed, but would he ever stop being so shameless?). "I assume you've figured out what it is, then?"
"Obviously I have, who do you take me for?" The reply only came after Fyodor managed to move his own head away, and his confidence nearly slipped from the suddenness of the actions, but he kept himself together.
"I expected you would, don't think I'm doubting our house's personal genious." Fyodor really had to figure out why he kept getting nervous around the idiot. "I just thought you might want some help with how to beat it."
"I have to say, I highly doubt that you of all people would give me what I need to beat a colony of mermaids."
Nikolai, ignoring his words as usual, reached into his cloak and from it pulled out a jar. It had a bright green plant inside it, and Fyodor immediately recognised it as gillyweed. The thing was practically only known by herbologists - it took him hours of research to even find out it existed, God knows how long it would've taken him to find any. But then how did Nikolai of all people find this much?
The look on Fyodor's face immediately turned into one of shock and confusion, seeing the other wave this jar right in front of him like it was nothing special was baffling. "You- how did you get that?" He practically spat the question out, and it only made Nikolai look even more confident.
"Oh, you know, I was just sneaking around the place and happened to find it!" he shrugged.
"Don't play dumb with me, Gogol, I refuse to believe you found that by yourself. And how did you even know about the challenge?" Fyodor grew more confused by the second.
It took everything in Fyodor not to roll his eyes when Nikolai laughed his disgustingly heart-fluttering laugh. "Slow down with the questions, Dostoy!" He paused to admire how frustrated he was managing to make the other. "I overheard Montgomery talking about how she found out about the challenge herself, and finding the gillyweed was pretty easy from there. Well, if you're good at teleportation, that is."
"You know how to teleport?" Fyodor said in a mocking tone, his face showing the same feeling; he almost found it hard to believe that someone like Nikolai was able to teleport so casually. His expression changed quickly, however, when he realised he still needed to convince Nikolai to give him the plant.
Luckily enough, Nikolai was strange to the point he didn't even care about being looked down on like this. "I've been looking into it for quite a bit now, yes."
With no sign of distrust or hesitation, Nikolai handed Fyodor the jar. The latter looked up at him, slightly confused as to why there wasn't even a catch to this. He didn't doubt that the other would do this for him for no real reason, he just couldn't understand why. Thinking about it made him nervous again, so he put that thought to the side and took the jar anyway after a few seconds.
Nikolai hoped that the other boy would at least reply to this gesture, though he knew he wasn't getting a 'thank you' from Fyodor. He gave up on that thought after the boy just stared and the jar for a few seconds, putting his hands down onto his lap and standing up.
"If you have nothing to say, I'll be heading off again!" Nikolai said, in hopes of making the air less tense than it was.
Fyodor only gave him a hum of acknowledgement as a response, setting the gillyweed down on the table and reaching for his book again. But, before he could even open it, the book was snatched right out of his hands. He looked up at the other with a serious expression, though he was also annoyed at the fact that he wasn't exceptionally bothered to chase after his book, and he'd bother even less with getting up and following him all the way back to the dorm rooms.
Nikolai was smiling at him, holding the book in his hand as he paced to the back of the sofa where Fyodor still sat. "You should really get some sleep, even gills won't get you first place if you're tired." If he was considerate one more time Fyodor swore he'd throw up from emotion, it was humiliating at this point. And then the white haired boy ruffled his hair, and he just laughed again. Fyodor had to take a sharp breath before turning around, about to tell him off, but Nikolai was no longer there.
It wasn't easy to admit that Fyodor was looking everywhere for Nikolai right now. The competition was starting soon and he had way too many questions about what he was about to eat. For starters, he had no idea where the thing came from, and Nikolai wasn't trustworthy in the slightest. It was the only thing he could rely on in this challenge and the amont of trust he had in it wasn't too great. And above that, he didn't even know how long it lasted. There was a good amount of it in the jar, but the only person who knew the properties of these few plants was the boy (and probably also the person he stole it from).
He also assumed that Nikolai wasn't the type of person to skip this contest, especially since he went through the trouble of trying to get Fyodor to win. But he wasn't sat on the benches, he was nowhere to be seen when they took the boats to the platforms and, of course, he wasn't competing in this in any way. If the idiot really stayed in the dorm instead of watching the competition he'd never hear the end of it as long as Fyodor was alive.
The basis of the contest was simple: The three of them had gotten something important stolen from them, and they had to find it and retrieve it within an hour. It sounded too easy, he thought. It all depended on what that 'something' was, but he assumed it was a valuable object of some sort. The issue was that he had no idea what was waiting for him in that lake. He'd figure it out when he saw it, of course, but the description was way too vague for comfort.
The countdown started when the rules had been explained, and when it did he decided that he couldn't fear the gillyweed anymore and ended up swallowing all of it at once (much to his disgust). The countdown ended and the pain kicked in - deep, vast pain, all throughout his body as he felt gills grow onto him. Though it drove him mad, he held it together to dive into the water; his pride didn't allow him to fall into it like a child who didn't know how to swim.
Once he'd dived, though, that was a different story. Pale hands held onto his neck desperately, trying to relieve the uncomfortable feeling, but he didn't have to hold on for long as the sensation faded only a few seconds after he'd gotten inside of the lake. It was still confusing to him, having to breathe through anywhere but his nose, but he knew that he had much more important things to focus on.
He looked around and tried to find a place that seemed worth looking into, ending up going with his instinct and turning left. The lake was impossibly murky, so every turn he made was a mere guess at this point. The more plants came into view the less confident he got in this decision, until he heard singing nearby. There were mermaids behind him, and he knew they were guarding what he needed to find.
Fyodor turned around and swam to where he heard the creatures, determined to get whatever it was and get back up as quickly as possible. But when he got there, it seemed more difficult than anticipated. He was fully expecting to have to bring a small object up - some sentimental piece of jewellery, maybe - but seeing 3 human beings, unconscious and under a spell was beyond his expectations.
Lousia May Alcott, Osamu Dazai, and none other than Nikolai Gogol were lined up at the very bottom of the lake, and he had to take one of them. Between the three moribund looking faces, of course Nikolai's shocked him the most. Why on Earth would he be down here? Alcott was obviously for Montgomery to take, that wasn't hard to figure out, but he'd never seen him interact with Nakahara.
This whole mental dillema could've been avoided if Fyodor was just honest with himself. He wasn't meant to take Dazai, the guy was obviously in a (somewhat complicated) relationship with Chuuya, but taking Nikolai would be admitting that he was more than a nuisance in his life. Seeing how all the others were in relationships, too.. it made him feel weird yet again.
Though reality was screaming at Fyodor to take Nikolai and get back up there, the guy could be stubborn when it came to his image. The last thing he needed was the other teasing him to death about this. Dazai took him to the ball, and that was enough of a reason for him to be important.
He kept swimming after making his decision, but someone else was quicker. Of course Nakahara had to show up.
Chuuya didn't have anything visibly different about him, he must've found a spell that lets him breathe in water without any damage. He sighed and rolled his eyes when he saw Dazai tied to the bottom of the lake - could they make their petty fights any less obvious? However much he seemed to debate against it, though, he quickly waved his wand and untied the other, linking their arms and slowly starting to swim away.
So reality got tired of screaming, and decided to force him to face the truth.
He was now stuck between the two ends of his pride - having to swim back up in defeat, or having Nikolai Gogol regain consciousness in his arms, becoming aware of the fact that he held any sort of significance in Fyodor's life. It was also obvious that Nikolai would eventually find out that he was down there to be saved by him, if he hadn't been told already.
Hogwarts absolutely despised Fyodor, no doubt about it. Chuuya didn't get too far yet, but he was far enough that Fyodor had to make a decision. He couldn't keep being a coward, so he finally managed to (partially) ignore every doubt in his head and swam forward again.
Nikolai looked disturbingly peaceful in the water like this. It was admittedly beautiful how his hair was sprawled out in the water, now that it was down rather than in his usual plait. His eyelashes seemed longer than usual, his lips dry, but that fact being overshadowed by how full they were. He almost seemed like he was the most delicate thing in that lake, it was mesmerising.
Most of all, it was extremely distracting, and Fyodor mentally scolded himself for stopping to notice all of that. He untied Nikolai with a spell and took hold of his arm hesitantly.
He forgot the mermaids were even there. As soon as he hooked their arms together three mermaids finally decided to go after him, in order to make the whole situation more difficult. They were grabbing at everything they could find, missing almost everything but a few pieces of fabric which was torn from Nikolai's robes. Mermaids sung beautifully, but there was little more that Fyodor despised right now than their concerningly raspy yells as they attacked the pair.
He managed to reach his wand just barely, casting immobulus at the trio and sending them floating away. Nikolai's clothes were a mess now, especially compared to the other's black tank top and shorts. Whoever had thought to bring these people down there in their uniform really wanted to make everything way harder.
Swimming back to the platform was the difficult part. He didn't even feel nervous like expected, it was just such a bother to have to carry an entire person to the surface, especially when said person was ridiculously tall and being weighed down by his school clothes. The path back up wasn't hard to find after he'd passed the plants, fish and lurking mermaids at the bottom. Clear water coming back into view very quickly, but the effect of the gillyweed was fading simultaneously.
Clear water turned into cloudy skies in his view. An instinctive gasp left him, and the same happened to the God forsaken idiot - the spell keeping him unconscious broke as soon as his head was out of the water. Fyodor was once again reminded of his regret, and mentally cursed himself for ever entering this tournament as he swam back to the platform (not even helping Nikolai get back).
It couldn't be that cold for Fyodor to completely ignore Nikolai, or at least that's what he convinced himself of. As soon as he'd gotten to the platform he was welcomed with cheers and pats on the back by random teachers, and even some students who'd sworn to never speak to him. It was nice to be recognised, he even gave the crowd a grin as he walked through them all, but all he wanted was a towel and some water after all that distress.
When he'd finally gotten inside he was given the two right away (these people were really prepared) and the poor boy chugged a whole bottle of water before moving to dry himself. He patten himself dry as best as he could, then moved to dry his hair. Delicate hands moved the towel through his hair slowly, his mind slipping back into thoughts of Nikolai.
With Nikolai came embarrassment, of course, but embarrassment turned to nervousness, and the feeling from a few nights before returned. White hair, close contact and an infuriating, bright grin were soon all he could remember - wasn't he supposed to be feeling cold right now?
"Come on, you can't run away from me forever, Fedya."
Oh my God.
Fyodor stood up straight, only allowing himself half a second to gather all his thoughts before turning around. He placed his hand on the table behind him and leaned his full weight on it, then finally looked up. "I'm not running away, Gogol. I'm making sure I don't pass out after being forced to carry you all the way up here." He lied, humiliation seeping back into his mind.
"I wouldn't say you were forced, really. Would you?" Nikolai said matter-of-factly. "I mean it's not anyone's fault that im just so important to you, is it?" Fyodor was starting to wonder whether that stupid grin ever faded from his face (whilst also wondering where that prudent confidence came from).
"I'm not debating you on this." Was the only reply he got. It was funny, though, how such a reply was spoken by a man who was bright red and remarkably defensive.
Nikolai simply laughed at the man in front of him and shrugged. "I guess my services really meant nothing to you, Fedya. You're just horrible!"
"Do you ever take a minute to not be sarcastic?"
"Do you think I should?"
"I think you should leave, thats what I think."
And if the devil himself asks, a man can't deny his wishes.
Through fabled statues and ancient picture frames, the most expected object in the commonroom was still Fyodor Dostoyevski, sitting near a window with a notebook on the table, the only source of light being the one lamp that hung from the wall. He held his usual quill on his left hand, but the thoughts wouldn't leave his mind even through that single source of expression he had.
He didn't like to call it a diary, he'd rather keep it at 'personal notebook' in order to not sound childish. Of course, it was all the same, but nothing could get past his sense of pride.
Fyodor wanted to write about some parts of the tournament - the mermaids, the waters, his victory - but the others weren't as easy to get across. He could only wish for the courage to write about his erratic heartbeat, maybe even his slight denial or the constant feeling in his stomach whilst having to carry a certain someone. The beginning sounded easy at first, until he dwelled on who he had to save from those mermaids and waters.
It got to a point where there was no other excuse - Fyodor was falling for Nikolai, and if he didn't do anything about it he'd end up completely infatuated.
Every tap of his fingers, every scratch and pull at his hair and everything around him just wasn't cooperating, there was no way the boy would get anything written tonight. He slammed the notebook shut (it's a serious habit) and set his quill down, leaning back on the chair and looking up at the ceiling. The shuffling of his robes which were set on the back of his chair was heard as his back touched them. It was cold in the room, but he wasn't one to mind cold weather as much as he should, so he'd always left it on the back of that chair with no care for the fact that it could get stolen.
There was nothing interesting on the roof, not a single thing. Fyodor waited for his thoughts to fill the dark spots in the architcture (even if they'd lead him into another crisis involving feelings and longing), but not one of them stepped forward. He'd overanalysed every last one of them - he was definitely proud, very probably bruised and disgustingly in love. But his blank mind at least allowed him to hear the footsteps not far from where he sat.
Fyodor's head immediately looked forward once more. He had to realise that he'd never go another day without seeing Nikolai.
"You could be a bit less menacing when you approach me, Gogol. Did that thought ever cross your mind?" The usual sass in his voice had started to tone down, worryingly enough.
"It has crossed my mind, but I don't usually dwell on topics that'd bore me, you know? I'd fall asleep if I forced myself to walk around without being 'menacing'." Nikolai replied. His hair flowed down his back as usual, and he still wore the same torn robes from the challenge; he likely didn't own any other ones.
"I would've expected you to have those robes in the bin by now." It was a statement, but not a purposefully cold one, despite how it may have sounded when Fyodor spoke it.
Nikolai walked closer until he was right in front of the table, then rested his hands on it and leaned forward slightly. Having to look up at him was almost enough to give the Russian a crisis on the spot, and this time he was admitting to it.
"Not everyone can afford to throw away some robes over a bit of damage, Fedya dearest." Nikolai replied calmly, the sudden pet name earning a bewildered flushed face from Fyodor.
"... well, if you spare me from ever hearing that name again I might be kind enough to give you my own robes." That was Nikolai's turn to return the bewildered look, though he was way better at hiding how flustered he could get.
"You'd do that? For me?" Genuine confusion could be heard from his voice.
"Don't think you're special, Gogol, I'd rather not have to think about carrying those around and you're the only way I can achieve that." Fyodor was no longer looking up at the man, deciding to look off to the side instead of being caught up in eye contact that was too intimate for his heart.
"Fedya, nothing you say could make me believe I'm unimportant to you after the tournament."
And Fyodor would've ran out, he could've gone back upstairs and pretended to fall asleep way too quickly, but that would've been a pathetic attempt at temporary escapism.
"Do you want the robes or not?" He wasn't quite sure if his attempts at being intimidating were still effective, but a man can hope.
Instead of replying, Nikolai reached forward and grabbed the robes straight from the chair in which Fyodor sat. His hair (which was now draped over his shoulders from him leaning over the table) brushed over Fyodor's face for a moment - he wanted to braid it. His hand also grazed over Fyodor's shoulder when he reached for the robes - he wanted to hold it, kiss it, feel it's touch on his skin like ice on a wound, healing him of imperfection.
"I didn't think this would fit, but, looking at it again... did you mean to buy this a couple of sizes too big?"
"I find that clothes are more comfortable when they aren't completely clinging to me." The conversation felt casual now, it was refreshing. Despite Fyodor's unintentionally cold tone, Nikolai never let the conversation get awkward. It made Fyodor feel somewhat accepted; he wasn't overly aware of the tone he set while he spoke sometimes, so having someone understand his intentions wasn't common.
Nikolai hummed in response, taking his robes off and leaving them carelessly on the floor before starting to put the other's on - Fyodor's mind did not wander. He was being careful with his hair, moving it out of the way after he'd tied the robe over his chest so that it was behind his back again.
"Does it feel any better?" Fyodor asked first.
"Definitely," The other boy sat down next to him at the small, round table and rested his arm on it. "thank you, Fedya."
Fyodor never picked up too much honestly from Nikolai's words. He couldn't be serious about too many things, it was just his personality, but this felt different. It souded honest, he sounded strangely grateful.
He continued speaking before Fyodor could even decide what to do. "I'm not only thanking you for the robes, I'm grateful for you saving me earlier, too."
"But I didn't really have a choice, did I? You shouldn't thank me for what I did for a challenge."
"Would I be wrong to assume that there are a lot of people you wouldn't save, though?" Nikolai's signature grin was starting to form, he was trying to prove a point.
The raven didn't answer right away, whatever he said would have an impact he couldn't overlook. He could deny it, saying he'd do anything for the victory of Hogwarts, he could agree and admit to the fact that he actually valued him somewhat, or...
Fyodor took a deep breath as he held a hesitant hand up and onto Nikolai's neck, ignoring the facade of not caring at all about the other that he'd tried to uphold so desperately. His thumb carressed the skin underneath it carefully; he'd never stop treating that boy like a porcelain doll.
"You never give up on teasing me, it's honestly a pain." Fyodor spoke, looking at Nikolai's lips. "I won't sit and ponder upon what you'd do if I confirmed your suspicions, Gogol." His gaze went up to have their eyes meet, being able to take in all of Nikolai's surprised expression. He broke the eye contact here and there, but such thing was inevitable. "So I'll tell you. There are... very few people I'd put myself through that for. Now what sort of advantage does that give you over me exactly?"
He wasn't even given any time to process anything before feeling soft, tentative lips over his own chapped ones. Fyodor's hand impulsively moved to rest on Nikolai's shoulder while the other was placed on his thigh, and the other boy's impatient hands went to his hair and around his waist - they couldn't deny any sort of feelings after how quickly and frantically that'd happened. The both of them were nervous, yet eager; hair pulling lead to soft groans and thigh grabbing didn't have a much different reaction.
Quick breaths and gazes slipped their way inbetween progressively more confident kisses, and the way their hands moved, explored, couldn't be ignored either. They read eachothers body language, never being too confident but rather waiting for eachother to slowly ease into a quicker pace. Nikolai's hand stopped on Fyodor's thigh as he managed to make himself pull away and took a breath. He looked at all of Fyodor, the nervous feeling finally coming back.
"Would you... count that as an advantage, Fedya?" Nikolai teased, his smirk returning to mask the butterflies he felt.
Fyodor was slower at processing the kiss, but after a few moments he finally returned a slight smile. "It's not an advantage if we both benefit from it, Kolya."
Somehow, being completely infatuated wasn't too bad of a situation to be in.