Entry tags:

character: adriana fawcett-edgecombe, character: julien malfoy, character: nigel longbottom, fic, game: the cold war, set2music

[Fic] Bent: Chapter Two
Title: Bent: Chapter Two
Fandom: Potterverse AU
Pairing: I'm not telling (but the title is a clue)
Rating: PG so far
Author's Note: This story is based on characters and situations inspired by the game The Cold War. Many thanks are due to players from that game for answering questions and supplying help with their characters as I worked on this piece.
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor gain anything from, the world of Harry Potter. That belongs to JK Rowling. I just like to write in it, and Nigel, Julien, and Adriana are mine all mine and live in my head.

Chapter 2

Year Two

Make it shine,
lay your whole world on the line
-- Quarterflash

Five years and seven months left before he was able to be rid of Julien. Nigel refused to count down to the point of days (or hours), but after a horrid morning in Potions class, he was most definitely counting something. Julien had somehow managed to upend Nigel's cauldron, drenching his robes in an incipient concoction which did no damage save turning every inch of Nigel's clothing and skin a brilliant royal purple. After two hours in Madam Pomfrey's care he again approximated a sort of peach with shades of fuscia, and he had to rush if he were going to finish his schoolwork so he didn't have to worry about it during the match the next day.

He wasn't in the mood to be interrupted, and certainly wasn't in the mood for the faint giggles and whispers that followed him as he made his way towards the common room with his books. Had news of his latest accident spread so quickly? Oh... he spotted the ghost as soon as he stepped into the room, where she sat calmly in mid-air, surrounded by students. She looked up and smiled, giving a small wave, and he half-heartedly waved back. "Hullo, Luna," he called out, determined to be polite to this ghostly mother by proxy. But seeing her made him look around quickly, because if Luna was at Hogwarts again, that meant that...

"Hullo, Nigel. Didn't think I'd miss out on your first Quidditch match, did you?"

Nigel smiled weakly at his eldest sister. "Hullo, Neah." It mystified him sometimes. Neah was the eldest, and had been about to finish Hogwarts when Nigel was born, and yet, somehow the two of them remained close despite the difference in years. Neah claimed it was because not only were they the bookends of the family, they both belonged in the air. She had given him his first broom when he was seven, the one Ron Weasley had made for her before he died when she was very young. Then she had taught him to fly past his fears, despite them, and to take advantage of the skills he'd been born with.

She hadn't made him like flying, but she'd made sure he could. And out of the entire family, only she and he had any true talent with a broom.

"Are you blushing, or pink?" Neah asked, as blunt as she always was, words softened by a grin. "Come on then, put those books away. I want to talk to you, and here you are buried in schoolwork. Just like a Ravenclaw to be thinking about marks when you ought to be out and warming up for the match tomorrow. Didn't I hear that you're taking on Slytherin?"

Nigel was actually rather glad that Slytherin was to be their first match, since he was still rather up in the air, so to speak, about playing at all. But everyone expected it, and he couldn't resist the chance to show Julien up. Especially since Julien had made Slytherin's team the year before and spent a year lording it over Nigel for not making Ravenclaw's. "First match, yes. Handily, I know all the secrets of their Seeker." It was a boast, yes, but he offered a bit of a grin that hid his nerves, and motioned for Neah to follow along as he made his way back towards the dorms.

It still mystified him a bit that girls could walk into the boys' dorm any time they wanted, but magic clearly kept the boys out of the girls' dorms. But it meant that Neah could walk along while he stashed his books and took a moment to see if he could rub another layer of fuscia off of his exposed skin. He pushed her out when he stripped down to change into clean robes.

"Oi!" he called out as the door opened again. "Give a bloke a bit of peace."

"Don't worry, Longbottom, your sister's in the hallway holding court. Merlin, that shite stained you everywhere, didn't it?"

Julien's sharp laugh had Nigel spinning on his heel, hands fisted at his sides. "You could've let well enough alone, Malfoy," he growled, stalking across the room, pink all the way down to his pants. "Now I've robes to replace, and I'm likely to glow fuscia for the next week. Is there a reason you're such an arse or is it just natural inclination?"

Julien snorted, throwing a blanket at him. "You're too easy, Longbottom. Cover up before you blind me. Maybe I just wanted to make sure no one could miss seeing you in the air; the flying pink elephant."

Nigel caught the blanket, throwing it around himself to hide slender pinked shoulders from view. "Bugger off, Malfoy," he muttered. "I've already got the point that you can't stand me, and I can't think why Wick insists on pairing the two of us off during Potions. Have you been slipping him bribes under the table?"

"I'll never tell," Julien drawled.

And Nigel saw red. He drew back and struck before Julien had a chance to recover, the blanket falling to the floor behind him. Julien crashed backwards, knocking over books before landing on his bed, rubbing at his cheek. Nigel shook his hand; he'd forgotten how much it hurt to strike someone like that. The bruise was already mottling Julien's fair skin when he turned away.

Which was a mistake, as Julien launched himself at Nigel's back, grabbing him and wrestling him to the ground. The two boys rolled across the floor, stray kicks knocking things over with crashes until the door banged open.

"Nigel Longbottom! Julien Malfoy! Stop that this instant!"

It was easy to forget Neah was an adult until she was angry, and then it became inherently obvious that she was one of them. Both boys scrambled to their feet, taking several steps to put space between themselves. Julien crossed his arms, drawing himself up to full height, head tilted as he looked down his nose at Neah. Even at twelve he had already grown taller than her petite height.

"Don't you try to Malfoy-attitude me," Neah tapped him sharply on the nose. "It never worked with Mama Mi and it won't work with me. I changed your nappies, and I won't bloody well let you intimidate me. As for you," she rounded on Nigel. "Fighting? When you've Quidditch tomorrow? Are you mad? Get dressed and stop this nonsense immediately and it'll stay between us and the blokes in the hall who could easily hear you being hooligans. But if I catch you at this again, you can be sure you'll be losing points for both your Houses."

Nigel flushed, adding red to the fuscia of his skin. "Alright, Neah."

Julien sniffed haughtily. "If you'd like to know, your brother landed the first punch." He didn't bother to indicate the thick bruise on his cheek. "But no matter. We'll finish this on the pitch tomorrow, Longbottom."

Nigel groaned as he left, turning to grab clothes and pull them quickly on. "Neah, don't fight my fights for me."

Neah ruffled his hair. "Long as you don't fight them either. I know you and Julien've always had your differences, and I can't blame you for that. But try not to do anything that's going to get you in trouble. Malfoys have a brilliant tendency to sluff trouble off onto other shoulders. Remember the time Rose got in trouble for the damage he did to Dad's rose garden? I mean, it was accidental, and he was terribly young..."

Nigel frowned, remembering it. It was one of those rare moments where Julien's charm had slipped past his parents' defenses, and he and Neah had been bewildered by the acceptance given to the story, even though it was utter fabrication. He sank down onto the bed, idly rubbing at his brow and feeling a bruise there. "I'll do my best, Neah. But on the Pitch all bets are off. Alright?"

Neah grinned, sitting down next to him to tug him into a fond hug. "If competition with Malfoy keeps you on a broom rather than hiding from heights, I'm all for it. You're going to be the best Seeker Ravenclaw's ever seen, if not the best this school has ever seen."

"Except for you?"

She laughed. "Well of course, except for me."

#

"And Malfoy dives for the Snitch as Flint takes the Quaffle, handing it off to Hawthorne who takes it in... saved by Bell! And Longbottom gets in the way as Bell throws it out. What's he thinking? Malfoy's got something in his sights and Longbottom's going in the other direction entirely."

Nigel ignored Edwin Weasley's commentary, hovering as he watched the Snitch. It was out of his reach, with the Slytherin Beaters in the way, and it wasn't near where Julien was either. Ridiculous attempt at the Wronski Feint, poorly enough executed that it couldn't catch NIgel out.

"Move, Longbottom!" Samantha Jones slid by him, close enough that her robes ruffling in the wind brushed his shoulder. "You've a job to do. Don't freeze up and make me regret taking you on."

"Yes, Captain." He rose up, then let the broom drop abruptly, sinking below where the Beaters waited. Leaning down low on his broom he continued to drop, grunting when he felt a Bludger clip his hip. Why did he play this game again? Then Julien sped into his sight and he remembered. To beat Julien.

"Score's now 80 to 10, Slytherin over Ravenclaw. Things are starting to look pretty grim unless Longbottom can manage to spot the golden Snitch. Holy... Merlin! Nigel, you're glowing!"

What? Nigel twisted about, setting himself tumbling on the broom as he tried to catch a glimpse of his own skin somehow. Edwin was right; the fuscia spots on his skin had started glowing, shining in the sunlight like reflections off of gemstones.

"Well, isn't this a new one? Rookie Seeker in his opening match and Longbottom's fumblewanded experimentation has him glowing like the jewel in the Ravenclaw crown. The only question is, is this actually a brilliant plot to dazzle Malfoy's eyes and give Longbottom an edge, or is it just another example of magic gone wrong?" Edwin's announcement met a ripple of laughter through the stands.

A Bludger whizzed by his head and Nigel knew the answer to that; he was now hideously visible, thanks to Julien's prank in Potions the day before, and the Beaters weren't likely to let up. The only advantage he might have was with Malfoy himself, who was lost in laughter for the moment.

Nigel didn't dare say, or gesture, what came to mind. Instead he dodged his own teammates, nodding when Samantha snapped at him to get his head on the Pitch already, and zoomed out past Julien, diving down after the Snitch.

His lead didn't last long, Julien catching up and pacing him. The other boy didn't look at him, but still spoke, an edge of sharp laughter outlining his words. "What in Merlin's name did you do to that potion, Longbottom? I never thought pink was your colour, but turns out it's quite fetching. My father might even agree, although I can't think he'd approve of the sparkling aspect."

Nigel swung sideways, letting his broom sway until he brushed into Julien. Oh ow, he'd forgotten the Bludger hit, and he winced away quickly, even as Julien set space between them.

"Playing dirty?" Julien snickered. "That's not the Ravenclaw way, Longbottom, and can't think your Gryffindor siblings would approve."

"I'm not the one who played dirty, damnit," Nigel swore in a low voice. "You did this to me, Malfoy, and you'll pay for cheating." Oh wait, Snitch! He pulled back on the broom, going upside down and rolling over, Julien close behind as they chased after their quarry.

"Me?" Julien laughed, soft and low, pulling ahead of Nigel so his voice floated back on the wind. "I just bumped you, Longbottom. That potion was all yours. Might be onto something interesting with it, if you can remember what you did. Must be the experimental side of you. Who knew it'd come out like this?"

As the Snitch shifted direction again, both boys pulled back on their brooms, tipping and rolling, dropping several feet and recovering to skim along the ground, robes fluttering behind them. "Ohnoyoudon't," Nigel ground out between his teeth, putting on an extra burst of speed. He felt Julien's foot push off his hip as they jockeyed for space, both reaching out.

Julien's hand closed over the Snitch, Nigel's hand grabbing him. Julien looked over, snarling, snatching his hand back, the Snitch falling away from both of them. As one, the two boys rolled, reaching for the Snitch, elbowing each other as they slid from their brooms and onto the grass. They wrestled, the Snitch trying desperately to escape as they each just barely caught it and then lost it again from well-placed elbows forcing them to let go.

As they finally tumbled to a stop, Julien's hair was loose from its queue, flying around his face as he stood up, pumping his fist in the air, golden Snitch fluttering madly.

"Slytherin has the Snitch and that's the match! Longbottom's first time out has left him with empty hands, but he's showed us new techniques in style and grace."

Nigel came to his knees, one hand out to summon his broom. He sat back against his heels, head bowed, broom across his lap. They'd trusted him to do this, this one thing, and he'd come up empty. He knew no one would be able to forget this game, or how badly he'd made a hash of it.

A hand dropped onto his shoulder as Samantha crouched next to him. "T'salright, Longbottom," she said quietly. "Next time we'll cream them. You did a damned good job keeping up with Malfoy. He's a brill flyer, that one, and you'll just show him that you're his equal if not better, soon enough." She paused, squeezing his shoulder, then asked, "What iswith the pink?"

Nigel made a noise somewhere between a snort and a groan. "Didn't hear about Potions yesterday, did you? Malfoy upended my cauldron."

Samantha laughed as if she couldn't help herself. "Well then, seems you owe him twice over, don't you? Go on in and get yourself fixed up and washed off. Practice tomorrow." Her tone slipped back to all business as she gave him a hand up. "We'll be going over this match in detail and working on the things we missed. Expect bruises."

Nigel idly rubbed his hip. "Already got them, thanks."

#

While Nigel wasn't born to Herbology the way his father, or his sister Heather, were, he still had grown up around the gardens enough to find solace in being surrounded by plants. So late Saturday found him in the greenhouses, having snuck away from well-meaning family and friends to find a bit of time on his own. He had bruises to tend to, and pink skin to recover from sparkling to familiar peach.

Sparkling.

He had vague recall of a book one of the Muggleborn girls had passed around the dormitory, about people who sparkled in the sunlight, and how much the girls had seemed to like the idea. He couldn't quite understand why. Or perhaps those folks hadn't sparkled pink, which to him seemed to be a dual insult.

The irony was, despite the accidents he had occasionally, Nigel was actually at the top of his class. He knew his material dead on, and in fact, was well ahead of some of his classmates. He just... lost control sometimes during class, when he became distracted. But once a spell was memorized, he rarely forgot it, which served him well where minor healing was concerned after the clumsy bumps and bruises he had gained (and his Mum had healed) while growing up since all those spells were fixed in his mind long before he had a wand to practice with.

And he'd learned tricks along the way, like cutting careful slits to open clothes to expose a wound, healing it, then repairing the clothing again. It made life simpler, when one had so many bruises and bumps as he did, and didn't always have privacy for the healing of them. And so, he did just that, doing what he could to ease the ache in his bones from the match, and healing the abrasions on his forearms and cheek from wrestling with Julien.

He had to stop when he realized he couldn't manage to possibly reach the one on the back of his left shoulder on his own, and so leaned back against the RosenKruntz tree, breathing in the heavy scent.

"Nigel?"

He let his eyes flicker open, focusing slowly on the girl crouched before him, hair pale blond braid swinging over her shoulder as she leaned in. Adriana Fawcett-Edgecombe. Of course, if anyone had come looking for him that wasn't family, it would be her.

"Oh!" She pulled back again. "I wanted to make sure you were alright. That was a bit of crash you had there today."

"Controlled fall," he said, which wasn't entirely the truth. "We had the Snitch. The only question was which one of us had it, and that wasn't able to be settled on a broom."

She sighed and twisted about to settle in next to him, leaning back against the tree as well. "You let him get the best of you and brawled on the Pitch. Haven't you any shame?" She sounded more like her mother Marietta at that moment than the easy going Sally, all sharp edges and disappointment in him.

Nigel glared at her. "Did you come here to yell at me or are you here as a friend, Adriana?"

"Friend," she allowed. "I brought those notes we put together night before last. Before Potions class."

"Hm?" He pulled his legs back, sitting up cross-legged and turning to look at her properly. "Er? Did you find something odd about them?"

Adriana nodded. "Actually, yes, I did. I'm not sure exactly what it was supposed to be, but I did find a bit of something that didn't belong there. It almost looks like you were scribbling something else entirely, only it was mixed into our notes so when I copied it out for you after we were done, I included it of course. This could explain why my potion didn't exactly come out as planned, since I worked from the same notes."

Nigel held out his hand, accepting the parchment from her and carefully unrolling the bit where they'd been scribbling back and forth. He and Adriana had started studying together at the beginning of the year, and it had done both their grades good, as they had a tendency to see what the other one didn't. At least, until now. But they'd spent half the evening talking about Quidditch, as Adriana was excited to see him fly and rather upset not to have made the team herself.

Which, Nigel realized, explained everything. A flush underlined the fuscia tracery on his cheeks. "Ah. Well then. I see what happened."

"What?" Adriana came up on her knees, peering at it curiously.

Nigel tapped the paper where there were a pair of diagrams in the midst of the stirring instructions. It looked as if it could be proper, except that he recognized it, and knew that the odd little notation next to them wasn't supposed to refer to the addition of further ingredients (which he did remember adding before things were spilled). "Do you, er... do you recall that I was telling you about the Captain's new plays? This one... er... this..." his finger traced one of the swirls, "would be the Chasers, er..." his voice faded as Adriana started laughing.

"Are you telling me that we included Quidditch plays and oh! Is that a Bludger? I thought it was a Beetle larva! Oh my..." Adriana fell back, arms wrapped around her belly, failing at holding the laughter in. "I think we... we..." she dissolved into another spate of giggles. "Imagine what we'd have done if we did it on purpose!"

Her laughter was infectious, and burbled up, catching Nigel unawares. A moment later found him on his back, laughing as hard as she was. Every time they tried to stop, one of them would start speaking and it would start all over again, until Adriana lay collapsed against him, gasping for breath. "If we stick together, Nigel, we could change the world. Or at least," a gasp of giggles, "turn it sparkly pink."

Stick together. Nigel was suddenly aware, for the first time, that this person half sprawled on him, tangled in his arms. wasn't just Adriana Fawcett-Edgecombe, whom he'd known since they were in diapers. This was... well... a girl. And that thought shocked him, and embarrassed him deeply, and he fought to keep his cheeks from warming. "Er, yes, well, it seems we might." He managed to wrestle them both into sitting up, him leaning back against tree with her resting on his shoulder, wrapped in one of his arms. "So what did your potion do at the end? Or didn't it do much of anything?"

Adriana managed a steadying breath. "I don't know, but I had crystals all over the inside of my cauldron. Mine were sort of a red or purple, so I must have done something differently. Or it came out that way because I finished, rather than spilling the lot of it."

He didn't remind her that it was Malfoy who'd done the spilling; it wasn't worth fighting against the way Malfoy's blood wrote it's own version of history. "We might be onto something, you know. Fabricating gems or some such. Could see if there's a market for it." Had her hair always smelled like apples and strawberries? Why was he noticing her hair? It was tickling his nose, the long silky strands somehow seeming to spread out everywhere.

"We might." Adriana slid back down, lying with her head in his lap, looking up at him. She drew in the air as she started down a path of theory, one which quickly drew Nigel away from his confusion and into the pleasure of exercising his brain. He reached for the parchment, quickly scribbling notes in the margins as they talked through what might just work to create something useful. Gemstones that were easily created by spilling out the potion on a surface, but that faded. That, Nigel agreed completely, was the most important part. In the end, they had ideas, but no thought when they might get to test them. Still, the joy was in the discovery and if it had to wait, then it waited, and they would do it another time.

"We do make a good team," Adriana murmured in the end. "How is it we weren't best mates before Hogwarts, Nigel?"

He glanced at her, startled. "Is that what we are then?"

Her head tilted, giving him a look. "Let's see. We study together constantly, we live in each other's pockets except for when my dorm locks you out, and we can finish each other sentences. If that isn't the definition of best mate, I can't think what is."

He flushed faintly. "Well, best mates it is then."

"I knew you'd come round eventually." Adriana managed to sit up, and brushed a light kiss against his cheek. "Just remember, being best mates means you owe me a birthday present in March. Don't worry, I shall remember yours as well in June."

"July."

"Oh, is that when it is?" she teased him, one eyebrow arched in a comical mimicry of her mother Marietta before she dissolved into laughter. "Never fear, I shan't forget." She stuck her hand out towards him, clasping his firmly when he offered it in return. Her expression turned solemn. "Best friends forever."

Nigel grinned. "Best friends forever."

"Now." Adrianna shoved herself to her feet, reaching out a hand to Nigel. "Let's go see what we can do about de-sparklifying you, yeah?"

#

It was promptly first thing in the morning, just past ten on the very last day in July, when Adriana knocked at the door to Longbottom Cottage. The kitchen full of family visiting for Nigel's birthday didn't bother her, she simply asked where Nigel was, and on learning he had made his way into the gardens cheerily excused herself and went to find her friend.

When he saw her approach he could see clearly that she carried two things; a small package under one arm, and an envelope sealed with a glob of wax clutched tightly in one hand. "Present, or letter?" she asked.

Nigel hesitated. Presents were... well... presents. And as he'd had to ask Neah's help in finding one for Adriana last March, he wondered what she had come up with in turn for him. But the envelope... he could tell by the way she held it that it was the response from Witch Today.

He swallowed hard and said, "You decide."

"Present." Adriana dropped down onto the ground next to him, holding out the brightly wrapped box.

A moment's hesitation and Nigel ripped into the paper, discarding it to one side and revealing a book. He had to turn it over, and laughed to find Quidditch Down Under. Adriana leaned into his shoulder and whispered, "Malfoy will never think to learn Quidditch secrets that aren't British, French, or Bulgarian. Memorize everything."

Laughing he nudged her shoulder with his. "I will. Thank you." But the letter teased at him, the way she'd set it aside as if it didn't really matter. "Letter?" he nudged her.

"Oh, this?" Adriana held it up between two fingertips, just barely managing to move it out of reach when Nigel grabbed for it. "Merlin, you're fast. No wonder you fall over your own feet; you don't move slowly enough to catch your balance between steps."

"Oh, just give me the letter, already. Have you opened it?"

Adriana shook her head. "No, I waited. This was both of ours, so I thought we should open it together."

She held it between them, and together they slit the wax and opened it.

"Dear Madame Harbithrut," Adriana read, giggling over the nom de plume they had crafted. "We were delighted to receive your letter regarding your proposed cosmetic line and we would like to meet with you or your agent!" She squealed in delight, and Nigel winced at the shrill sound of it, taking the letter to finish reading it.

"It sounds like a lovely idea, and from our review of your abstract, the magical principles are sound. Please contact us to set an appointment and bring samples of your product." He grinned at Adriana who grinned back. "Twenty five points to Ravenclaw for brilliance," he said.

"Fifty. We'll need an agent, one who can keep a secret," she said. "My mums are particularly good at secrets, or do you want your mum to know? We can't let them know at Witch Today that we're only just thirteen or they'll never take us seriously."

And just like that, it wasn't just real, it was big. Too big, too much, and Nigel shied away from it. "You go on and take credit for it. Say you were inspired by what I did during Quidditch. I... I don't want to."

"But it's not my idea," Adriana protested. "It's ours."

"I don't care," Nigel insisted. "Just... go on and do it." It would be easier to maintain his balance if folks didn't suddenly start expecting more. Folks expected enough as it was, with excellent marks and doing well at Quidditch (while they hadn't taken the cup, they had made sure Slytherin didn't manage it either, leaving the field open for Gryffindor to slip in with a last minute defeat of Ravenclaw on the Pitch).

"Are you sure?"

He nodded quickly. "I'm quite certain, Adriana. This is all yours. Besides, it makes sense for you to make cosmetics. Think what folks would say if they ever found out I was involved. This isn't the sort of thing for a boy to do. It was bad enough that I sparkled in public."

"You always sparkle, Nigel Longbottom," Adriana said. "Just sometimes folks don't see it. And I promise, if I actually do happen to make any money off of this, I shall spoil you unmercifully. Although I rather suspect it to be a one-season wonder. But won't you feel proud if everyone's sparkling at the Yule Ball next holiday? Just in time for us to attend and see our handiwork."

"I'll be proud," Nigel allowed. "I just don't need to be seen."