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1
Izuku likes to perch up high. Admittedly, he already did before he started getting to know Aizawa-sensei, or Aizawa-sensei as Shiro even, but he has gotten even more attached to up-high spots in the last few months.
His little window ledge, in particular, is a favourite spot. He can't help it, not when he first met Shiro here, when he has started to plan out his Runes and where they're going to be engraved in the hallway, and he doesn't think Hogwarts herself will mind. No, she always seems to like him, or to at least be neutral, because sometimes a tapestry corner will lift slightly at just the right time for him to dodge somebody he doesn't think he can handle that day, helping him to duck into a little hidden alcove until they're well gone and he's in the clear.
So, yes, he thinks that Hogwarts won't mind him literally carving out his little spot. Because it's secluded and it's high up and it's where he first got to know Aizawa-Sensei as Shiro and it's his.
But it isn't the only place he finds himself gravitating towards. Because he's always liked quiet places, and often up-high places, but now it's beyond a habit. Because Shiro will hop along a parapet, all spread-wide wings and quiet barking caws. It's lovely, and Izuku finds himself enjoying a walk along a wall himself, although he normally chooses lower ones. He likes to go up into the Quidditch stands even when there isn't a game on, to prop his feet up against a railing or another seat, a book in his lap and scarf piled high around his neck so that he can breathe into the thick fabric. It just feels right.
It's much the same for when he finds a little recess in one of the Library walls. Admittedly, he has to boost himself up with his toes upon a shelf to get up to it, but then he tucks himself into the tiny alcove perfectly happily, hidden in amongst the shadows of the dark corner, the legal history books not a common enough interest for other students, or if it is then the old ones in the library aren't deemed good enough, for this aisle to be frequented by anyone, so it's quiet and elevated and safe. He even learns a Cushioning charm on Aizawa-sensei's gentle request, so it's more comfortable! (Honestly it used to feel right to have bruises on his shoulders and spine and knees from sitting against stone, from stumbling over a jinx or his own panic, but now he sees those little not-quite-frowns from the man when he notices dark marks upon Izuku's skin, can see the worry beneath it, and he finds himself wanting to be more careful. To look after himself better, or at least let Aizawa help him where he can't.
It will take time, but for now Izuku is willing to try if it smooths out that furrowed brow. For Aizawa's sake.)
So, even when Aizawa-sensei isn't with him, Izuku studies and thinks and hides in these little perches throughout the skill, looking out over mountains with the air cold and biting, or in little half-hidden corners of the library where he has to squint to read, and he feels like Shiro is perched upon his shoulder, reading along with him. He feels safe.
2
Izuku is drawing runes again. He spends a lot of time doing exactly that, and Shouta certainly doesn't mind. The kid isn't even going into his Third Year just yet, not until the end of this Summer Holiday at least, but his passion for Wards and runes and Arithmancy is honestly pretty damn remarkable and Shouta wouldn't be a particularly good father nor teacher if he didn't take gratification from his kid clearly being so invested in his academics, even if there is one central subject that Izuku focuses on above all else. He's certainly not failing his actual classes for the sake of it, quite the opposite really, so Shouta has no good reason to begrudge it.
Not when Izuku is just so very brilliant.
The kid's intuitive and analytical all in one breath, able to pick things apart to the tiniest detail but also make logical leaps that should defy sense yet they just work, a base-level understanding of magic that is far more advanced than most just-turned-thirteen year olds manage of any subject. It reflects well on his other subjects (Shouta is admittedly very proud of how Izuku came in the top five students for all of his subjects, and was in fact the top student entirely for Charms, Potions and Astronomy, no matter how much he had going on in his personal life nor how much time he was devoting on the side to his passions-) as well, but it undeniably shows up best in how his little snake throws himself into his own projects surrounding runes.
Hence right now, two thirds of the way through his summer holiday, his first extended non-school time spent living with Shouta (and hadn't the first few weeks in particular been a fierce adjustment for them both?), having taken over the sofa and a good portion of the floor and coffee table in front of it with sketches of rune circles and Arithmancy calculations and star alignment charts, lists of enhancement ingredients and so, so many different combinations of runes, different alphabets and characters and configurations. Shouta is vaguely familiar with all of it from when he was a student and taking his OWL in Ancient Runes, but for a thirteen year-old to be studying it independently...
Look, Shouta just thinks that his kid is damn clever, alright? That's the long and short of it, and he finds it impossible to be annoyed by the mess when Izuku is just enjoying learning about something. Or several dozen somethings.
He also thinks it's just kind of cute how the kid, after watching Shouta mark essay upon essay and even write the occasional academic paper or article or miscellaneous letter, has picked up on a certain habit of his: chewing his quill.
It's a bad habit, frankly, one that Shouta had broken, once, for all of six months, before exams had descended again and the mindless study habit had picked up once more. So, yes, he admittedly is still in the habit of hunching in closer and closer to his work, all rounded shoulders and slumped spine, so that he can squint even closer at the parchment that he can already see perfectly well, and when he hunches down, he mindlessly finds that in a pause in his writing he ends up chewing on the end of his quill, occasionally spitting out the little fluffy barbs that sometimes come off. He does it far less now than he did as a child, but he also just can't be fucked with breaking the habit now.
But Izuku does it now too, curling in close to his papers and books, pausing to gnaw at the end of his quill whenever he gets pouty over a sticking point in his research or calculations. The habit is an ironic one when compared to the ink that seems to permanently stain the kid's fingers in lines and blots and flicked droplets, and it's a habit seemingly directly pulled from watching Shouta merely exist, doing his work and going about his daily life.
The thought has Shouta far, far softer than it by any rights should. Yet somehow he can't quite begrudge that, not when it's this damn kid. Honestly.
3
Look, when Shouta took the kid in, he wasn't expecting the kid to adopt a bunch of his mannerisms. And he knows that Izuku wasn't previously in the habit of just curling up in random places and sleeping.
But maybe some combination of finally beginning to feel safe, and of watching Shouta settle in front of the fire or on the sofa or at their little dining table only to promptly fall asleep there, in random positions, although, has rubbed off on the kid, because now Izuku also does something much the same.
The first time Shouta even notices, the kid has curled himself up tightly into the corner of the armchair, and that wouldn't be the slightest bit odd or remarkable if not for the fact that the kid has no book in hand, no parchment homework to review. No, his hands are empty and he simply settles in the armchair before closing his eyes and seemingly settling in. Shouta, for his part, says nothing, and simply continues flicking idly through a book he's read before, a fair while ago, and is considering recommending to a few of his NEWT students. Merlin knows some of them need the extra study. He doesn't want to embarrass the kid over... Over whatever it is he's doing.
It takes longer than it probably should have to click into place; once the kid's head starts to dip and sway, hands going slack, Shouta nearly gets up or calls out gently to wake him, frowning slightly. (Has the kid not been sleeping well? He hadn't woken Shouta up over the weekend except for Friday night, and even then it wasn't a particularly bad incident. The kid's eyebags are no worse than normal either-) But then it clicks: Izuku was intending to nap. Or, at the very least, intending not to do anything whilst sitting there, because he wasn't talking to Shouta, nor was he actively doing something, and Izuku is a kid that's always so damn busy with something or another (frankly, he never takes a break, to the point where it frustrates Shouta even if he'd never explicitly or even implicitly say as much lest the kid be upset by it-).
But Shouta remains carefully quiet as Izuku naps, trying to keep his breathing and page-turning to a steady volume and pace in case a change disturbs the kid's rest, because he's certainly vigilant enough of his surroundings that even something so small might well do so. So the man keeps himself calm and steady, and pretends that the kid's little snuffling breaths aren't incredibly adorable.
It's not like it's the last time he'll get to hear them. After all, that's only the first random nap of many, Izuku curling up in various places, some of them admittedly less advisable than others. (Shouta doesn't lecture the kid about any of them, but he does very carefully ask Izuku not to settle too close to the fire, or to fall asleep on the window ledge that he so likes to sit on, because winging around the castle in his raven form only to see his kid asleep above a fall of hundreds of metres... No, he didn't need that sort of strain on his heart, thank you very much.) But most of them are fine, and it's kind of sweet how the kid just slowly gets more and more comfortable.
The first time he straight-up falls asleep next to Shouta is a fucking blessing, as far as the ever-softer-hearted man is concerned. The kid even sitting beside him on the same piece of furniture, at least when Shouta isn't in his raven form, is a rare event unless he's just woken up from a nightmare or is resurfacing from a panic attack, never seeming to want to encroach upon Shouta's space no matter the reassurances he might be offered. But, finally, he has begun to settle upon the sofa beside the man, still curled up in a corner like he would be in the armchair except he's within Shouta's reach, and seemingly comfortable with that fact.
And, finally, he falls asleep. It's a gradual thing, ever so sweet for all that Shouta only dares to watch out of the corner of his eye, before the kid is slowly slumping more and more to the side.
When he starts to fall abruptly, Shouta catches him as carefully as he can, trying to do it gently, lowering the kid to the sofa cushions as he does so. It has Izuku's mad curls splaying out, the crown of his head pressed lightly to the man's leg, warm, his freckled face soft and slack in repose. Damn, kid's cute. Which, well, Shouta already knew that, but it's still a notable realisation right now. Doubly so when the curls are soft under his callused fingertips, the kid tilting his head, still asleep, slightly into the affection.
Merlin, Shouta is so far gone on this kid.
4
"You're gonna end up looking like me, kid," Shouta comments, idle rather than chiding, and admittedly rather a bit softer than he might ever allow in public. Either way it has the kid jolting slightly, head jerking up from his work to look at Shouta. (The fact that he doesn't actually look all that startled, and certainly not frightened like he would have mere months ago... Well, it has something warm blossoming, all daffodils and amaryllis, in the man's chest, gentle touches along the inside of his ribs.)
"Hm?" Shouta almost snorts at the mostly-distracted hum of acknowledgement that he's gotten, Izuku's eyes already drifting back down to the yet-another new rune arrangement he's got sprawled out on a long scroll of parchment across their floor, even as he gestures up at his own head:
"Your hair. You're making a mess of it like I do, and I certainly don't mind in general," he tacks on, because he certainly doesn't want to press the kid to feel awkward or like Shouta is judging him,
"But it won't do you any good to be tugging at your hair like that."
"Oh." Izuku, in an adorable but perhaps a little bit of a silly way, brings his hand in front of his hair and blinks at it as though it will answer the question of why he's started to run his hand through his hair so much, pushing his wild, just below the shoulder curls back so often,
"Uhm, I guess."
The two of them just sit in silence for a long few minutes, neither of them thinking too much, nor saying anything, simply sitting there together as they wait for it to process, or for one of them to get an idea or solution of some sort.
Something occurs to Shouta, then, so he shifts a little, getting the kid's attention back, and also perhaps because he feels a little bit sheepish, or hesitant at least, but that isn't enough to stop him from
"If you want, I could teach you how to braid it? Like I do when I duel or brew." Izuku's eyes go wide, something like a blush creeping beneath his freckles, constellations over a sunrise, a rather sweet match to the burgeoning edges of a smile,
"That... I like the sound of that, I think?" Shouta shrugs a little, trying to stay casual,
"You don't have to do it all the time or anything, kiddo, or even really at all. But if you know how, or are comfortable with letting me do it for you sometimes, then I think that might be useful for you?"
"Then I would like that," Izuku confirms, soft and hesitant and sweet. Shouta has to resist the urge to ruffle the kid's hair, doubly so after what their conversation has literally just been about.
~~~
Two days later, Izuku is running his hand through his hair once more, scowling at some Transfiguration homework that he has apparently managed to escalate to something in the realm of Fourth or Fifth Year content because he fell down another rabbit hole, or rather an absolute warren, of information that he did not originally need for the essay.
"Hey, kiddo, before you get any further into that or tear any more hair out, would you be okay with me braiding it back for you?" It's a gentle offer, one with no pressure behind it, and it earns him only a brief hesitation, before Izuku is nigh-on beaming at him, scrambling to shove his work to the side and coming over to Shouta, feet shuffling but eyes still oh-so bright.
"Uhm, yes. Please."
"No worries, kid. Sit down for me," he adds on, grabbing one of the sofa cushions to place between his own feet where the kid can settle.
(The fact that Izuku doesn't even flinch or falter to settle, no matter that it's a vulnerable position to be in, his back to the teacher, neck exposed, is beyond a boon to Shouta. A gift, perhaps, in that it is a show of trust and faith and belief beyond what Shouta had even hoped to be offered so soon.)
He moves slowly, explaining what he's doing, as he begins to brush through the kid's hair with a Conjured brush, as carefully as he can, not wanting to pull or tug at any of the curls in case it puts the kid off from letting him faff around with the soft curls at all. And Shouta continues to talk as he moves on to start the fairly loose braid, twisting the hair over itself, incorporating more and more until he gets it all done, still talking all the while. Honestly he's glad that he's a teacher, he definitely wouldn't be able to even talk this much otherwise without losing his voice.
But with how Izuku melts more and more into the braiding, with how he seems ever-more comfortable with Shouta's movements and presence, it's more than worth the rambling he bothers with. (For Izuku, it's more than worth it. Most things would be.)
5
They're not necessarily known most widely for it, but ravens have a wide range of vocalisations, from pseudo-singing to almost-barks, and they are not shy in doing so. They're rowdy, to be frank.
Shouta isn't actually a loud person, not verbally at least. It's one of his only characteristics that, seemingly, do not match his Animagus form. Except for how, maybe, it does, because he has a tendency to hum, to murmur, and maybe, even if he would never admit it, to sing in the shower. (Look, he spent a few years after they all graduated Hogwarts living with Nemuri and Hizashi and Oboro, and they will never let him forget his own so-called caterwauling, how he will hum when he is tidying up, or how he murmurs himself through the process of making a potion or preparing a meal, step by step with all of the little asides and additional notes that are stored somewhere in his head, because they tease him a little about the shower singing but otherwise just nudge each other and smile utterly soft things that Shouta sometimes notices but never calls them out on-)
But today he comes out of his bedroom, having changed out of his teaching robes and slightly smarter clothing in favour of Muggle trackies and a comfortable jumper, walking past the bathroom, shower running, and freezes all of a sudden.
Izuku is singing. He's in the shower, and he's singing, far more quietly than Shouta tends to; it's the first time Shouta has heard him be this loud, regardless. He's a quick, quiet sort of kid. He doesn't sing, isn't obtrusive, tries to hide himself in the shadows and the background and corners, doesn't speak up in class unless specifically asked a question by a professor. Even with Shouta, who he has grown comfortable with, volunteering quiet rambles about various topics or asking questions of the man.
Never before has he sung, however. And the kid's voice isn't perfect by any stretch, but it's sweet and clear and there, one of the songs that Shouta himself defaults to singing, a Muggle thing from their teenage years that Hizashi introduced him to and that Shouta has remained a fan of since.
Izuku is singing in the shower just like Shouta does. Somehow it's enough to have him feeling both sheepish and oddly flattered. Cute, silly kid. Shouta might even refrain from teasing him about it, for the time being, if that will mean that the kid will keep on that very same singing.
It will be worth it to hear his kid so comfortable, so happy.
+1
He didn't even realise that he was doing it, for a while. Not until he watched Izuku do it and suddenly realised that, shit, he can distinctly remember doing that himself, at least a dozen times now.
Look, Shouta isn't soft. Really, he isn't. He would know if he was, and he's logical enough that he wouldn't miss it, obviously. (He, logically, knows that he enjoys little more than Izuku's gentle fingertips grooming through his feathers when he's in his Raven form, or how the kid has begun to lean into his space, or to walk into his home and to see the evidence of the Problem Child who has wriggled his way into Shouta's life everywhere, books on Runes and pieces of spare parchment and occasional trinkets, an askew blanket or a pretty stone or a bookmark set aside.)
Izuku has lots of habits, several of them adopted from Shouta himself, but many of them are just part of Izuku himself. Some of them, admittedly, are not the most positively-derived, from hyper-awareness of his surroundings to the way that he notably falters whenever he is complimented, all a-flush and disbelieving, but several of them are simply little idiosyncrasies of no particular sort at all. And one of them, in particular, is something curious that Shouta has noted before, that has been very briefly mentioned before by other teachers too, but that he hasn't taken much notice of prior to now, not beyond being idly amused by the kid twists little scraps of parchment into shapes, or doodles along the edges of his essays.
But now Shouta's doing it too. Just the other day, he had a long strip of cut-off parchment on his desk, and he had been sat, watching some of his older kids take a mock exam, wanting to pay enough attention to ensure there's no cheating, doubly as as this is a Gryffindor-Slytherin combination class and if any class will have cheating or sabotage it will be this one, doubly so when it's a bunch of fifteen year-olds whose judgement isn't always the best by any stretch. So he isn't willing to lose his attention to marking or prepwork, but equally he doesn't think twice before he's picking up the scrap paper, beginning to twist and fold and manipulate it without over much attention paid to his own movements.
There's no particular intention to it, yet he does glance down at it every so often, and finds himself trying to form a snake of some sort. It's not perfect, in fact it's rather messy and the head is lopsided, nor is there any tongue or eyes, but it sort of has the general shape.
It's honestly a fairly shit approximation of a snake, Shouta knows, but he didn't even really plan to make it so whatever.
(If it also warms his heart, just a little, then the man doesn't pay too much attention to that. Doesn't allow himself to focus on it, right now. Because the thought of Izuku's influence upon him being such an idly lovely thing, such a casually positive sway, is frankly a delightful concept.
Shouta doesn't have that many people he would consider precious to him. He has his grandmother, stubborn as she is, and his three best friends, and to be honest he likes his students and his colleagues fairly well. But Izuku... Izuku is something else entirely and again. The kid is just brilliant in at least a dozen different ways, each of them impossibly more lovely and remarkable and endearing than the last, from his intelligence to his kindness to his creativity, and he has absolutely carved a place into Shouta' home and heart seemingly without even meaning to. Somehow that makes it even sweeter.
And the kid is just... He's everywhere, now. Every stone window ledge is a reminder of perching upon a warm lap in a cool breeze; every portion of roast chicken, Shouta goes to put the skin aside for the kid because it's his favourite part of a Sunday roast; he's in the glimpse of a leather-bound book with spiralling runes embossed upon its cover, or the tip of a bitten Quill.
He's in the dumb little snake paper-figure that Shouta has just made without a coherent thought. The teacher thinks that he might just have to keep it.)
For now though, he has a mock exam to finish watching over, so he opens his desk drawer and tucks the little paper snake away without anything else to it, and turns his full attention back to the room at large, glad that the exam is nearly over, and doubly glad that the only other mocks left are practical ones, for the sake of both his own sanity and that of his students.
But in a few hours he will cast a preservation charm on his little figure, and tucks it in his pocket to place on his bedside table later that same evening.
Izuku has taught him a lot, in a perhaps surprising way. Because the kid has picked up traits and habits and bits and pieces from Shouta, little tangible evidences of their growing relationship, of how they share their home and lives and days now, and it's nothing short of wonderful. Because Izuku is his kid in every way that counts, and he loves said kid, dammit.
Izuku's just a good kid, nothing less, and Shouta is determined to give him the good life that he deserves.