Chapter Text
“Bokuto?” Kuroo whispered into the quiet of the library. He was in his pyjamas. Not that anyone would be able to tell by looking at him.
His friend had caught him as Slytherin had left the quidditch pitch after their afternoon practice and told him to meet him in the transfiguration section in the library at midnight, although he’d refused to explain why. Kuroo had been up for it, but he did have to wonder why Bokuto insisted on picking such public spots for late night meetings. There was a much higher chance of being caught in the library. They’d found that out far too many times.
“Kuroo?” He heard hissed back, and continued on to the next row of bookcases to see Bokuto crouching behind a jut in the shelves. He was frowning. “Where are you?”
He chuckled quietly. “Right in front of you.”
Bokuto squinted at the place where Kuroo was standing for a moment, before his eyebrows shot up in awe. “You got the Disillusionment Charm already? We only learnt about them this week!”
He shrugged, ignoring the urge to grin with pride. “OWL’s are this year. Gotta get the practice in."
Bokuto stared at him, wide-eyed. "You're so smart, dude. Can't believe my best friend's such a nerd."
He did grin at that. "You better believe it. What’s up?”
Bokuto grinned, standing up properly. He’d caught up with Kuroo’s growth spurt sometime over the summer after fourth year, and stood less than an inch shorter than him now. “Was wondering about some... extra-curricular study, if you know what I mean.” he whispered, a little louder.
“Ohoho?” Kuroo grinned back, even if Bokuto couldn’t see it. He took a step closer. “A little look at the tonsil tome?”
“Some research in the make-out manual?”
“A case study in canoodling?”
“Gotta get a closer look at your throat, dude, you sounded a little husky in class earlier.”
Kuroo pulled at Bokuto’s robes so their bodies were flush against each other. “Well, you’d better get looking then,” he breathed, and Bokuto’s eyes devoured him as he dragged Kuroo into a kiss, backing him into the bookshelf. He nipped happily at Bokuto's lower lip. It had been a while since they’d done this. There had been a boy back in the city over summer who’d been up for a bit of messing around, but Bokuto knew him so much better; he knew all of Kuroo’s buttons. There was something safe and comforting about Bokuto's mouth. He revelled in that with a quiet moan as Bokuto skimmed a hand just under the hem of his nightshirt, a thumb brushing firmly over his skin.
“This isn’t fair,” Bokuto whined when they broke for air, still completely occupying Kuroo’s vision, “I can’t even see you.”
Kuroo shrugged again, smirking as he pulled Bokuto’s hand up the skin of his side. “That seems like a you kind of problem.”
“Yes,” a third voice drawled, thick and oily from behind Bokuto. Both of them froze in horror. “That certainly does seem like a you kind of problem, Bokuto.”
Professor Snape was staring disdainfully at Bokuto - how he’d managed to sneak up on them like that, Kuroo had no idea. Then his eyes flicked to the space where Kuroo was standing. “Although I wouldn’t be surprised if you thought dry humping a bookshelf was a better way to learn than actually studying, I don’t believe you have the initiative to come to the library by yourself. Revelio. ”
Kuroo felt his disguise drip away like cold paint. He withered under the cool look of his teacher, who didn’t look even faintly surprised at his reappearance.
“Good evening, Kuroo. Each of these books contains the life’s work and study of it’s author, magic of the highest caliber and difficulty. Hundreds of hours of research and writing that neither of you will probably ever understand. Each tome is worth more than either of your lives. Is there a particular reason you felt tonight was the night to deface such priceless artefacts?” He asked, bored and cold.
Bokuto, bless him, actually opened his mouth. “We were doing - research!” He blurted, and Kuroo closed his eyes. Oh no.
“Research.” Snape repeated softly. “Is that right, Kuroo?”
He nodded his head miserably, not opening his eyes. He didn’t want to see the look on his face.
“And what did you need to research at midnight which couldn’t wait until the morning?” The professor asked, not waiting for an answer. “What was it you said, a look at the ‘tonsil tome’?” He sneered. “That will be twenty points from Gryffindor for initiating such a shameful display, and an additional five from each of you for every terrible euphemism I had to listen to.” He flicked his hand at them dismissively. “Bed. Now. Next time, there will be public shaming.”
The two of them walked off, heads hanging as they at least pretended to be ashamed. Kuroo bit his lip, hard. He knew if he looked at Bokuto he’d start laughing. He would never forget as long as he lived, hearing Professor Snape say the words ‘tonsil tome’ out loud.
“Kuroo.” He stopped abruptly, spinning to look. Snape was still staring at him. Those black eyes were impossible to read. “This is not a good start to your reign as prefect. Have a serious think about your behaviour from this point on, or you may find the badge passed to someone who will carry themselves with some respect .” He felt those cold eyes boring into his back as he nodded, swallowing before rolling his shoulders back.
“Yes, sir.”
He knew they were getting off a lot lighter than they should have been - Snape was well-known for his favouritism of Slytherins. It didn’t hurt either that Kuroo’s best subject on his excellent report card was Potions. Twenty house points easily could have been a trip to Dumbledore’s office in the morning or a quidditch ban for anyone else.
But Snape’s words were pretty sobering. He was a prefect. Obviously there was no way he was going to stop sneaking around the castle in the middle of the night, but he couldn’t be seen doing it now either. The Disillusionment Charm wasn’t going to cut it.
He could still see Bokuto shaking with silent laughter out of the corner of his eye. What he needed, was a better way of not getting caught.
*
It was so obvious, he was surprised it took until Transfiguration the next afternoon for the thought to occur.
He was absently tapping at his desk, watching others around the classroom struggle with the complicated spell. He’d vanished his mouse ten minutes ago, but McGonagall refused to let him leave early anymore, not until Daichi had finished next to him as well. Kuroo thought it was cruel and unusual punishment to keep him behind like this, and he did not appreciate the implication that he had used the extra free time to prank the boys’ toilets.
(Mainly because it was true, but that really wasn’t the point. It had been Bokuto’s idea anyway.)
“Are you ok?” Daichi asked, and Kuroo grinned at him, distracted.
“Always, my good man. Why?” He asked. Daichi was staring at his own mouse, a little confused. The rodent was missing its tail, but the rest of it was still scurrying around the desk.
He shrugged, meeting Kuroo’s eyes without backing down. It was one of the best things about Daichi. Kuroo enjoyed intimidating people, his growth spurt and reputation being a massive help when it came to terrorising the first years, but Daichi had always met him head on. “You seem occupied,” he said.
Kuroo ran a tongue over his teeth. “I am.” he said, drumming his fingers on the desk.
Daichi turned back to his goblet. “You want to talk about it?” he asked, prodding his wand at the mouse hopefully.
Kuroo considered the offer. It could be useful to get an outside perspective, but Daichi was probably just doing his usual thing of being everyone’s shoulder and resident advice column. There was a reason he’d picked up the reputation of the Hot Dad™ of their year. Without a doubt, he’d criticise Kuroo’s motivations. Might even turn him in. He was too good for his own good. Freaking Gryffindors.
No, he needed to think outside the box for this - Daichi was pretty straight forward. He probably wouldn’t be a lot of help for this particular problem. McGonagall reached their desk, the last one on her circuit of the classroom. She nodded approvingly at Kuroo’s empty side of the desk, her mouth a flat line that meant she had nothing to comment. He stared at her thoughtfully as she corrected Daichi’s wand grip for the Vanishing Charm. He tilted his head to the side, and the light shifted on the silver frame of her spectacles.
Kuroo frowned. The answer was on the tip of his tongue, itching at him.
“Remember, Mr Sawamura,” she said, moving away as Daichi finally made the rest of his mouse disappear, “Transfiguration can be a cat’s cradle to untangle. One must examine all the strings to find the solution.”
A light dinged in his head. Spectacles. Unseen. McGonagall. Cat.
He stood up abruptly. Daichi stared at him as he began to pack up his books. “Did you solve your problem? Should I be worried?” he asked warily.
Kuroo grinned at him, too wide. Daichi’s eyebrows drew together. “Probably.” he said, feeling kind of manic as he shoved his own books into his bag, rushing out the door.
He had to get to the library. And maybe see if he could gently ask McGonagall a couple of questions about her animagus transformation without arousing too much suspicion.
*
Bokuto stared at him at lunch two weeks later, face scrunched up. Kuroo casually looked down at his bowl to avoid meeting his eyes.
“I don’t get it.” Bokuto asked blankly, looking to Kenma for assistance, “You hate soup.” Kenma didn’t bother to respond.
He shrugged, slurping another spoonful of the mush. He did hate soup. But as he’d found out after mindlessly munching his way through five pieces of toast one morning a couple of weeks ago, it was far too easy to accidentally chew up a mandrake leaf and swallow it with solid food. His current leaf had lasted nine days since the full moon, which was pretty good going. Just twenty one days to go. Three more weeks of soup and porridge. He shuddered at the thought. Sadly no more making out for the moment either, which was a true loss, but Bokuto would cope.
It also meant he had to restrict talking, or the leaf would be really, really obvious, or just straight up fall out. And then Kuroo would either be in a shitload of trouble for attempting this kind of magic unsupervised before his OWL's, or he’d be tutored through it and registered at the end, which was almost definitely worse, considering a large part of why he was doing it was to get out of trouble undetected.
Luckily, not talking was pretty easy when one of your best friends was Kenma; not so luckily, it was pretty goddamn hard when the other was Bokuto.
Akaashi dropped into the seat across from Kenma, looking tired. He smiled at Bokuto, pulling a bowl in front of him. He looked at the tureen still in front of Kuroo, an unspoken question.
Kuroo nodded, and Akaashi gracefully ladled out the minted pea soup. He looked away from the lumpy green mix as it splattered into the bowl. People ate that by choice?
He hated soup.
Bokuto stared off into space. Quiet settled over the end of the table. Kuroo slurped at the mush in his bowl loudly to try and forget about the taste, and Akaashi looked at him with disapproval.
The four of them usually balanced pretty well when Kuroo could chat shit with Bokuto, Akaashi occasionally reigning them in, Kenma occasionally shutting them down completely. That balance was thrown off with Kuroo trying to keep his mouth shut. Bokuto needed someone to bounce off properly, or he’d get uncomfortable with all the quiet. He’d go off on dangerous tangents.
“You reckon you could turn your dick into a chicken wing?” He asked out of nowhere, and Kuroo choked. Tangents like that.
Kenma patted him on the back lightly as he tried to stop laughing, his eyes streaming as he coughed.
“Bo,” he managed, wiping at his eyes, “What the fuck?”
Bokuto looked at him, one eyebrow raised. “Like, what if you’re starving and you’re super hungry? Could you turn your dick into food to keep you going?”
He hummed, both to consider the question and to put off answering for a moment. Had to keep the-
He froze. There was nothing under his tongue. Shit, that meant he’d swallowed it. Again. This was why Bokuto was so dangerous. Now he’d have to wait for the next full moon to start again. He’d never have it completed by Christmas at this rate...
“Why wouldn’t you just conjure food? Why resort to cannibalism?” Akaashi was asking, way too calmly for such a stupid question.
Bokuto shrugged. “I don’t know, I’m just asking if you could.”
Kuroo nodded, far too seriously. “Absolutely, dude, but that’s NEWT level transfiguration. You couldn’t do it.”
He was already planning the best night to sneak back into the potions store as Bokuto stuck his tongue out.
*
Bokuto pushed open the door to the third floor boy’s toilets, and paused.
Kuroo stared back at him, three paces back from the sinks, eyes wide and guilty. Bokuto had the suspicion he’d just interrupted something that was supposed to be private.
“Bro?” He asked, cocking his head to the side. “What’s up?”
Kuroo scratched at the back of his head, and didn’t answer for a second. He looked like he was debating whether or not to tell Bokuto something. “Practising spitting.” he finally said, and Bokuto raised an eyebrow.
“Huh.” That wasn’t what he’d been expecting. Kinda gross, but it did explain the splash marks on the mirror. “Why?”
“Gotta get the accuracy in.” He replied, a smirk beginning to form. “Bet you can’t do better.”
“Oh, that so?” He asked, stepping forward to stand next to him. “Bet you my last dungbomb I can do it from further.”
He lost the dungbomb. And fifteen house points, because he completely forgot within ten seconds of stepping into that bathroom that he was supposed to go back to Divination afterwards. Kuroo had this awesome way of completely snatching his attention. But he gained a pretty awesome afternoon, so it could have been worse. Kissing Kuroo back into the mirrors after he'd been beaten to make up for his loss was a pretty good use of his time too.
He also completely forgot to ask Kuroo why he’d really been spitting at the sink in the first place.
*
“I’m just asking if you’ll keep an eye out while I’m drinking the potion. You don’t even have to do anything.” Kuroo argued. Kenma sighed.
“But why do I have to?” he asked reluctantly. “Potions is your best subject. Why do I need to be there?”
“In case something goes wrong!” Kuroo insisted. He was pretty sure nothing would - he’d followed the instructions meticulously, and Kenma had double-checked his work as he was brewing the blasted thing. After finally managing an uninterrupted month with the leaf in his mouth, an unhealthy amount of suspicion from the teachers from his unusual quiet, suspicion from the other Slytherins as to why he was sneaking out of the dorm before sunrise every morning, Bokuto whining because he never wanted to kiss anymore - the potion was stored in a phial under his bed. Where it had been for three weeks now. Now all he needed was a lightning storm so he could drink it.
And the ceiling of the Great Hall had been filled with streaking arcs of white that December morning.
“What am I supposed to do if it does go wrong?” Kenma replied, “Aren’t the effects supposed to be irreversible?”
Kuroo grinned, unbothered. “You’re smart, I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” He trusted Kenma, and he trusted himself. He'd got it right, he could feel it. "What if I get turned into a half-giraffe? Or a flea? You'll regret not being there to help."
Kenma stared at him. A look that meant he was actually concerned for once. “You don't really think that would happen?"
He frowned thoughtfully. “I doubt I’d be a giraffe. The form is meant to reflect the kind of person you are."
"So a flea is still possible then."
Kuroo chose to ignore him. "Ooh, I wouldn’t mind getting stuck as a panther.” That was a cool idea. Sadly, there was no way to tell for most people what their animagus would be - if Kuroo had managed a corporeal Patronus Charm by now, it might have given some clue. As it was, he was completely in the dark. He hoped it would at least be something respectable. Like a lynx or a wolf maybe. Hopefully not a tapeworm, although it would be funny enough to make it worthwhile.
“I thought the whole point was supposed to be sneaking around the castle, Kuro. A panther seems kind of pointless.”
He nodded, “It would be, but also, consider. How funny would it be to just sneak around as a panther and make people crap themselves?”
Kenma didn’t reply, frowning.
“Hey, hey, hey!” There was a shout behind, and hands landed heavily on his shoulders. He jumped in shock and the top of his head collided with something solid.
Bokuto staggered backwards with a yelp as Kuroo clutched at his scalp. “Fuck’s sake, man!”
“Sorry!” he groused, slumping into the seat next to him, “Wanted to make you jump.”
“SHH!” Madam Pince hissed at the three of them, and Kenma frowned deeper. Bokuto and Kuroo both whispered an apology, before turning back to the table.
“What were you guys talking about?” Bokuto whispered, comically loud in the heavy quiet.
Kuroo’s mind whirled. “Nothing much.” he whispered back, “Wizard chess. Kenma’s top of the club leaderboard.”
Bokuto stared at Kenma, eyes wide and impressed as he gave him a thumbs up. “Nice!”
Kenma looked at Kuroo, unhappy being the centre of attention, and he shrugged with a smile.
It wasn’t that he wanted to keep it a secret from Bokuto. They usually told each other everything. But for this, Bokuto was too loud - he’d give the game away before there was time to finish the process. This required subtlety, patience and care. Besides, he’d want to be able to do it too, and Kuroo knew he wouldn’t have the patience to see it through. He’d just get fed up and frustrated over how long it took.
To be completely honest, he kind of wanted something that was his. Bokuto was the quidditch star, probably going to get scouted before the end of school. Oikawa had made it into the Daily Prophet for creating a new charm at the end of last year. Ushijima had defeated a Death Eater in a duel over summer, for fuck’s sake - he was on the national news. All his friends were already shaping their futures. Meanwhile, he was falling further behind.
Kuroo might have been the Slytherin keeper, he might have been a prefect, he might be one of only two kids in the year dragging himself through all twelve OWL options, but it wasn’t enough . Even if no one else could know, he needed to do this. He’d started on the backfoot - people would always look at him suspiciously after what his father had done as a Death Eater. He needed to show he was more than just another privileged, hateful pureblood.
Plus he was really getting sick of getting caught making out in the library.
He focused back on the Arithmancy chart he’d been bashing his head against for twenty minutes before Kenma had walked in. Bokuto’s presence effectively ended the previous discussion; he may as well get some revision done, or he’d fall behind on his schoolwork. He couldn't afford to.
He got nothing done. All he could focus on was that evening; one way or another, he'd have proved something.