Chapter Text
That evening found the two at Potions, a class that Slytherin and Gryffindor usually shared. Thoma still could not decide if that was a good or bad thing.
“Ayato,” Thoma hissed, eyes darting frantically to the instructions written on the blackboard before nudging said man by the side. “Did you remember to add in the moonstone?”
Ayato and Thoma usually paired up during Potions, more for the other students’ sake than their own. It was the one Ayato-time that Thoma could, maybe, teensily admit, he did not need. Honestly, Thoma had no idea how Ayato even managed to pass his O.W.L.S to make it to a N.E.W.T level potions class, though he probably just took strange pleasure in messing around during class. There were plenty of… incidents that Thoma had shoved to the furthest corner at the back of his mind. The professors still loved him anyway, though Thoma highly suspected that their Potions professor, Professor Sucrose, was afraid of them. Or maybe just Ayato.
Glancing up from his calm and lofty stirring of the cauldron’s contents (Thoma was keeping track of the number of times he did out of habit), said menace offered Thoma a smile. “Of course I did. I promised to be good today, remember? You can go back to preparing the ginger root.”
Thoma was not convinced, very used to Ayato and the mischief he got up to in Potions. In response to his raised eyebrow, Ayato chuckled. “Really. This will be a good one, I promise.”
Thoma reached a hand out, grasping for the ladle in his haste to stop Ayato’s movements. 50 counter-clockwise stirs. Thoma sighed in relief, glad he had stopped him in time. He did not want to relive a particularly disastrous potions class he had gone through the previous year.
It was only then that he noticed that his hand was wrapped around Ayato’s, a gentle warmth pulsing between their fingers. Ayato’s fingers were slender and smooth, his hands fitting nicely in Thoma’s own slightly larger ones. Upon that realisation, he quickly released his hands and returned his attention down to the chopping board, picking up the knife to continue slicing the ginger root.
Silently praying that the heat he felt around his face was not manifesting. “The recipe said to stir 50 times counter-clockwise. You’ve already reached 50.” He coughed out. The ginger roots had to be sliced to perfection, exactly 1mm thick. Yes.
There was a short pause from Ayato before he spoke, sounding unaffected by the previous events.
“Ah, thank you Thoma. I’m glad I have you to help me. Now, where are my ginger roots?”
They continued preparing the potion in tandem, the two exchanging peaceful conversation, with Thoma occasionally reaching out to swap the wrong ingredient out from Ayato’s hands. He swore Ayato was doing it on purpose, though no one could tell even after all those years.
Plucking the fairy wings from Ayato’s hands and replacing it with dragonfly wings, Thoma decided to continue what he had started in the library that morning before Ayato had fallen asleep.
“Say, Ayato… are you going with anyone to the Yule ball?”
At that, Ayato paused in his examination of the fairy wings. How did he even get those back anyway?
“Sure,” he replied unhesitatingly, eyes twinkling as he looked over. “I will definitely be attending it with someone I have in mind.”
Oh. Okay. Thoma’s heart just fell right to the bottom of his bottomless stomach. If that was even possible. Don’t panic, don’t panic. You can cry in your dorms later, Thoma told himself furiously as he struggled to get over the shock.
“Oh,” Thoma cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well. That’s good. Just curious. Haha.” He might have diced instead of sliced the poor caterpillar he was handling. Was that how his heart was looking at that moment? Plausible, judging by the internal conflict in Thoma’s mind at that moment. Was it Itto? Did Ayato agree to go with him? Or was it someone else Thoma was not aware of, someone who managed to capture Ayato’s attention? They weren’t together all the time, and Ayato did have circles outside of Thoma’s. The caterpillar was not looking good.
Unperturbed by Thoma’s mauling of the caterpillar, Ayato continued, seemingly unaware of the war raging on within Thoma.
“It is a rare opportunity for me to be free on that day. Though I would have to be at the venue earlier to ensure that all the logistics are settled, Headmistress Ei has graciously offered to oversee the event for me.”
Thoma tried his best to listen, he really did. But his mind was still mocking him: Ayato has a date! You were too late! Ayato has a date! You were l-l-laaaate! Thoma was so distracted that he did not catch Ayato dropping the fairy wings into the cauldron. Or stirring the cauldron a few extra times. The world was ending anyways, just let it burn.
Or not.
“Ayato…” Thoma hissed furiously as their cauldron started bubbling suspiciously. The potion, instead of looking a pale blue like it was supposed to, was sporting a crystalline, multi coloured hue. “What did you put in there?”
Ayato proudly stared down at the cauldron, tapping his chin in contemplation as he spoke, “Just as I wanted it to turn out. You will cover me if this goes wrong, right, Thoma?”
A whistling noise sounded from the cauldron. Professor Sucrose, wand already at the ready for whenever she was teaching their class, was rushing down the rows towards them.
Thoma sighed, already resigned to his fate and crafting his apologies to Professor Sucrose. “Don’t I always?”
Ayato waved his hand above the cauldron, usually forgoing his wand when casting trivial spells.
Immediately, the cauldron stopped hissing, the potion settling into a crystal blue right as Professor Sucrose reached their table.
“Ahem!” She sounded out, nervously adjusting her glasses as she inspected the cauldron cautiously, her wand in hand as she anticipated an explosion. “The color of the potion is… actually…” She squinted. “It actually looks close to the expected color of the potion we are making today. Please refrain from making anything explode today, Misters Kamisato and Thoma!”
The whole class breathed a sigh of relief.
“Yes, Professor!” Thoma saluted. When the Professor turned away, Thoma peered into the cauldron. “What did you make this time, Ayato? It actually… doesn’t look that bad.”
Happily, Ayato ladled a portion of the potion into a small bottle. “Didn’t I promise that it’d be a good one today?” He smiled cheekily. “I read something from a book. I wanted to try it out, with a few modifications.” He capped and tucked the bottle into the pocket of his robes. Thoma couldn’t even reprimand him after seeing the satisfied look on his face. It was rare to see Ayato having fun. Most of the time, Thoma just did his best to protect Professor Sucrose and the rest of the class from the aftereffects. He was reasonable, after all. Tomo would disagree and say he was whipped.
Whipped for someone who was already going to the ball with someone else, Thoma sunk into himself, remembering their earlier conversation before the potion disaster right as the bell rang. “Dinner? The house elves told me that they would be serving your favourite pumpkin pie today.” Ayato spoke after they had put away the last of the ingredients.
“Er.. It’s alright! I suddenly remembered that I have to rush a paper for Care of Magical Creatures tomorrow!” Thoma hastily stammered out an excuse, wanting to escape and hide under his blankets for the rest of the day. Ayato frowned. “I can wait for you to be done. Or I can ask the house elves for something to take to your dorms.”
“No need for that!” Thoma nervously chuckled, making a show of gathering his things. “Tomo said he would grab something for me. You should go ahead first, I’ll see you tomorrow!” He rushed off, taking with him his broken heart while leaving behind a confused and slightly hurt Ayato. He felt bad for ditching him like that, but he needed time to process his feelings. And maybe have a good cry like he had planned for.
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“Tomo, aren’t you supposed to take some food up for Thoma?”
“Huh? Why?”