Chapter Text
Eddie Munson relished any opportunity to wreak a little havoc. Sometimes he’d do something small-scale – he’d see an orderly gallery of picture frames and itch until he could set at least one of them askew. Sometimes he was opportunistic – he’d spot an inkwell hovering too close to the edge of Carol Perkins’s desk and fire off a Locomotion charm from across the classroom to tip it over into her lap.
But mostly, Eddie was loud. He loved a performance – craved eyes on him, even if his fellow students at Hogwarts scowled their disapproval more often than they appreciated his antics. He wanted noise, colors, lights, mayhem. Anything to disrupt the doldrums of student life and distract him from the buzzing of his own restless mind. The stuffy rules of the Wizarding school only drove Eddie to plot pranks with greater zeal.
And this was Eddie’s final year at Hogwarts. He’d graduate in a few short months, and he was certain his professors were desperately counting the days when they’d no longer have to look over their shoulders in the corridors lest a jinxed rubber band ball find them and bounce on their heads relentlessly until they stammered a counter-curse.
Yet despite all apprehension and expectation, the first two months of the semester resulted in a relatively quiet Eddie Munson. As diligently as Eddie tended to his artful chaos, he neglected his studies. So if Eddie wanted to pass his courses and actually leave Hogwarts with the rest of his class, he needed to buckle down and complete his assignments.
But tonight was Halloween. Eddie grinned to himself as he ascended dank stone steps and exited the Slytherin common room. He’d lulled his peers into a false sense of security. He’d stocked up on supplies from Zonko’s during the last Hogsmeade weekend. Then Eddie had constructed the most beautiful slime bomb his fellow Slytherin students would ever behold in their lives. Eddie bet whichever unlucky kids made their way to the common room first after that night’s feast would be scrubbing vivid green, acrid-scented sludge from their robes and hair for the rest of the week.
The bomb assembly took longer than expected, Eddie had to admit. He took the grand staircase out of the dungeons at a bit of a run because the Halloween feast was nearly over. And while Eddie thrived in mischief, he had no intention of missing the giant lollipops, pumpkin pasties, apple crumbles, and other treats the school offered on this special occasion on the account of one prank.
Plus, the Great Hall was at its most beautiful on this single night. Bats fluttered in vibrant clusters against the charmed night-sky ceiling. And plump jack o’lanterns with glowing grins levitated eerily above the heads of the entire school. Eddie couldn’t wait to bathe in that ghastly, glorious atmosphere.
Eddie’s mouth watered as he reached the ground floor and was hit with the warm, spicy aroma from the Great Hall. His highly anticipated evening was in sight. If he turned around, he’d behold the cavernous, wonderous feast through the giant doorway of the hall. But instead, Eddie froze.
The elegant, pearled stone wall across from the Great Hall was marred by dripping, scarlet writing. The words were harsh — too bright against the smooth wall.
“The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir beware.”
Eddie blinked. He knew what the words meant individually, but assembled in sentences this order, he was drawing a blank. It was foreboding, to say the least. Threatening enough to suit the spooky nature of the holiday. Especially because that red ink looked startlingly like blood. Eddie couldn’t have written much better in a campaign for Hogwarts’s Dungeons & Dragons club.
The strange message would be horrendous enough to discover alone. But hanging from the nearest torch sconce was a cat. Not just any cat… the foul beast that belonged to the Hogwarts caretaker, Callahan. Callahan and his cat – which had a perfectly normal cat name, but Eddie tended to refer to the weapon as the Demogorgon for the brutal monster she was – prowled the corridors of the school, seeking children with a single toe out of line to punish. Since Eddie nearly always had an entire limb or two out of line if he could help it, he’d run afoul of the wretched cat often. She would yowl and patter away, fetching Callahan who’d gleefully dole out a detention.
But the Demogorgon wasn’t yowling or pattering now. She was strung up to the lantern by her tail, stiff and unmoving. And as much as Eddie disliked the creature, his stomach turned because she looked… dead.
“Merlin, Munson.”
Eddie startled and turned to see Steve Harrington, in all his handsome, Gryffindor Quidditch star glory, blinking up at the Demogorgon with evident discomfort. Then he slid a disapproving glare toward Eddie. “This is low, even for you.”
And Eddie, king of chaos extraordinaire, should have known someone would blame him for this. While he’d been known to vandalize school property now and again, animal cruelty – killing in general, for the record – was not his modus operandi. With his poor record, Eddie would likely be expelled for the death of Callahan’s horrible cat.
Despite his building dread, Eddie found himself meeting Steve’s judgmental sneer with a languid smile. “Cheers, mate.”
Eddie expected Steve to scoff. To flag down a professor and point an accusatory finger straight at Eddie. But Steve did neither of those. His eyes went wide – pretty and round and brown – and then they darted around the deserted corridor.
“It wasn’t you, but… then… then who—?”
Eddie barely had time to wonder how in the hell Steve decided Eddie did not, in fact, murder the cat in front of them before there was a shrill scream followed by a chorus of gasps. Both Eddie and Steve spun around to find what must have been the entire student body crowded just outside the doorway to the Great Hall, all donning horrified expressions. Everyone fell silent for a moment until someone crowed.
“The Freak finally snapped. He’ll go after first years next.”
It was a taunting voice Eddie was familiar with, accompanied by a nickname that plagued him his entire Hogwarts career. He wasn’t surprised Jason Carver, a prick of a prefect in Hufflepuff, couldn’t resist the jab, and his obedient posse of fellow jocks burst out into guffaws.
“Enough,” boomed an authoritative voice. Eddie winced when Professor Hopper, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and deputy headmaster, shoved his way through the throng of kids. He was a tall, broad man, and most of the students only reached his breastbone in height. He fixed both Steve and Eddie with a stern look before ordering, “All students return to your dormitories.”
Well, Eddie missed the Halloween feast after all, he realized dismally. And Hopper was still glaring at him. “Except you two,” Hopper clarified unhappily. “Munson and Harrington, with me.”
Eddie didn’t even object. But no one had time to move before a lanky man with a mustache and spectacles made his way through the bustling students.
“What is the meaning of this?” Callahan demanded in his usual brusque way. Eddie usually relished the moment when a prank victim stumbled into his trap. But this wasn’t Eddie’s doing. And this was no harmless joke. Whatever contempt Eddie held toward the caretaker and his pet, he appreciated that the man loved his cat. And Eddie wanted to hightail it out of the hall before Callahan saw what happened to the Demogorgon.
“Professor Hopper, there are—oh,” Callahan’s stark reprimand collapsed halfway out of his mouth. His lips moved wordlessly for a long moment as he stared up at the cat on the lantern. Then he let out a wail. “Mews! My Mews, what have they done to my beautiful girl?”
Eddie barely restrained himself from snapping his fingers. Mews, that was the dreadful creature’s name. And then Callahan promptly rounded on Eddie. Eddie was not short, but the caretaker loomed as he scowled down his long nose, spittle flying and sticking to his mustache. “You. I warned them, I warned everyone that you’re a bloody monster, Munson. I knew this day would come. I knew it was a matter of time before you’d escalate and hurt someone. Killing an innocent animal like—”
“Not here, Phil,” Hopper interjected firmly.
An inquisitive hum by the door to the Great Hall caught everyone’s attention. The entryway sat mostly empty of students now, which allowed a clear view of Headmaster Kline. The leader of their school shoved his hands into the pockets of his robes and tilted his immaculately coifed blond head as he studied the scene. Then he raised an eyebrow at Eddie.
“Merlin, Munson, this is low, even for you.”
Eddie saw his future disappear with that throwaway comment. The Hogwarts headmaster had deemed him guilty, and now he would be expelled. The dismal career prospects he’d have after graduation would no longer exist. He’d have to return to his uncle’s tiny house with nothing to show for the six years he’d toiled to make sure Eddie got an education. Eddie really fucked up this time. And he didn’t even do this.
“Munson didn’t do this,” Steve piped up. Everyone turned to the Gryffindor who flushed a little at the attention, but he stuck his chin out defiantly.
“Not here,” Hopper repeated with annoyance. “Sam, Scott – get the cat. Munson, Harrington – let’s move.”
The short Transfiguration professor, Owens, fashioned a stepladder out of thin air and gestured for the mild-mannered Charms professor, Clarke, to ascend and fetch Mews from her unfortunate perch. Eddie exchanged a tight look with Steve, and they followed Hopper to the nearest empty classroom, accompanied by a fuming Callahan and several other nosy staff members.
With the door shut, Hopper heaved a sigh. Callahan took the opportunity to snarl, “I want him punished, Hop. He won’t stop unless you really hammer home—”
Hopper held up a hand, and Callahan fell silent. “Scott?” he asked instead.
“She’s not dead, Hop,” Professor Clarke announced. “Petrified. Nothing a draught cannot fix. Max, have you any in your stores?”
“No,” came a gravelly voice. Professor Brenner, the potionsmaster, stood stoically at the back of the room, arms crossed firmly across his chest.
“How soon can you brew it?” Hopper asked.
“That depends on the state of Professor Ismaylov’s Mandrakes,” Brenner responded, and all eyes shifted to a squirrelly-looking man with a sloppy mustache.
Ismaylov, the Herbology professor, shrugged under the attention. “The Mandrakes are young. It may be some months until they are matured enough for a successful restorative draught.”
“Months?!” Callahan wailed.
“Phil, please, look around,” Hopper said placatingly. “We have the best minds in the Wizarding world on this. Your Mews will be revived as soon as possible.”
“And what will we do with him in the meantime?” Callahan snarled, shooting a filthy look toward Eddie.
“Munson didn’t do it, Professor,” Steve cut in before Eddie could open his mouth. Steve was staring the headmaster down fiercely, as if he intended to go to battle over Eddie’s good name. Which was shocking because Eddie didn’t have a name remotely worth defending.
“He wasn’t at the feast!” Callahan argued, which made Eddie scowl. Out of hundreds of students, why was his absence noted?
Hopper sighed wearily at the accusation. “What makes you so sure of Munson’s innocence, Harrington?”
“Because Mr. Callahan is right: he wasn’t at the feast,” Steve said. “He was with me.”
Eddie kept his face carefully blank and avoided looking at Steve while Hopper’s eyes narrowed. Why would Steve fake an alibi for Eddie?
“Right,” he said doubtfully. “And where were you two, exactly, that you skipped one of the most popular holidays celebrated at Hogwarts?”
Steve winced and aimed a heavy look at Eddie that made him finally meet the boy’s gaze. And Eddie regretted it immediately because he learned Steve’s eyes weren’t just brown, they had flecks of green that glimmered in the low lamplight of the classroom.
“Sorry, Eddie, they won’t believe us if I don’t tell them the truth,” Steve said regretfully, and before Eddie could even guess what Steve meant – too hung up on the way his first name sounded rolling off of Steve’s tongue – the boy had squared his shoulders, stuck his chin defiantly up at the headmaster, and declared, “Eddie and I were fooling around in the music classroom downstairs. We lost track of time and missed most – well, I guess all – of the feast.”
Eddie’s mouth fell open, and his thoughts ground to a steep halt. Steve Harrington, Hogwarts’s most desirable bachelor, openly admitting to hooking up with Eddie “The Freak” Munson? An event that did not even occur – Steve just made it up right fucking now?
Was Steve… being cruel? Eddie garnered plenty of negative attention, which led to an assortment of colorful rumors about him. It just so happened that the whispers about his preferences for men were true. Not that Eddie had actually come out to anyone besides Uncle Wayne. But Steve seemed solemn in his declaration, lacking the air of someone rearing up for a joke. In fact, there was something vulnerable in the stiff set of his jaw that Eddie resisted the urge to unpack.
If he wasn’t bullying Eddie, which, to be fair, Steve never bothered to do before, then he was actually risking his own reputation – both by coming out and by settling well below his social station – just to save Eddie’s ass. Without proof that Eddie was as innocent as he claimed.
It took Eddie a moment to realize the entire room was watching him and waiting for his response to this apparent alibi in varying degrees of shock. Eddie swallowed and shrugged as casually as he could manage.
“I didn’t know I’d be coming out to all of my professors tonight, but if my nightmares are going to become reality, it might as well happen on Halloween. Yes, it’s true. Stevie and I were macking in the music room. I’m an innocent man. Well, innocent of this crime anyway.”
He threw in a wink at Steve for good measure, whose cheeks turned an interesting shade of pink.
“Okay, we get the picture,” Hopper said, massaging his temples.
“Surely, you don’t believe them?” Callahan snarled.
“Honestly, Phil, this attack goes beyond the behavior I’d expect from even our most… disruptive students,” Hopper said with a pointed look at Eddie. “Ten points from each of your houses for the, uh, inappropriate conduct. And a week’s worth of detentions. Served separately, of course.”
“A week? That boy needs—”
“Phil, if you’re not going to remain professional about this, I’m kicking you out,” Hopper interrupted the caretaker. “I intend to head the investigation into this matter myself. An attack on the premises is something I take personally as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.”
Eddie’s stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly, and Hopper let out a world-weary sigh.
“Right, okay, you kids are dismissed. Go back to your dormitories and there will be a plate of unexciting, non-festive food waiting for you.”
The idea made Steve’s stomach growl too, and both he and Eddie snorted a laugh.
Hopper rolled his eyes. “Just get out of here already.”
Eddie didn’t need to be told twice. He zipped out the door, not waiting as Steve murmured his thanks to the headmaster. But he didn’t make it far down the corridor before Steve caught up to him.
“Eddie, hang on a minute.” His first name again. It was jarring enough to make Eddie stop and face Steve with a curious tilt to his head.
Steve’s lips were pressed tightly enough together to appear white, and he stood silently, with his arms crossing his chest for long enough that Eddie almost left. Then he blurted out, “I’m sorry for, uh, outing you without your consent. That was super not cool of me, but I wasn’t really thinking beyond coming up with a believable alibi.”
Eddie blinked. Them hooking up was believable? The apology was unexpected as well, and he fumbled for a response. “Uh, people had kind of assumed I was gay already. It’s true, so… it’s fine.”
Steve frowned. “Still you’re supposed to be able to come out on your own terms and all that.”
“Honestly, I’m okay with it,” Eddie said, and it was true. “You saved my ass in there. I just… I don’t know why.”
“Because you didn’t do it,” Steve replied, like it was obvious.
“You don’t know that.”
“I’m pretty sure.”
“But you’re not though.”
“Yes, I am.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Sounds like a you problem.”
“Well, why do you care if I get in trouble anyway?”
“Ugh, it’s not that,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “By all means, get as many detentions as you want. And I won’t complain if you lose house points for Slytherin. But it should be for all the shit you actually do.”
“Like hooking up with you in the music room,” Eddie couldn’t resist pointing out with a raised eyebrow.
“I—” Steve’s eyes went wide, and he flushed prettily again. “It seemed like a better alternative to expulsion for not killing a cat.”
“It is,” Eddie admitted. “Thanks.”
“Yeah, don’t mention it.”
They stood awkwardly in the wake of the strange sincerity before Eddie’s mouth opened of its own accord. “Are you going to tell anyone about that creative cover story of yours?”
Steve frowned again. “I don’t see how it’s anyone’s business.”
Eddie laughed. “Steve. Sweetheart. How long have you been at Hogwarts? Everyone is in everyone’s business. I guarantee you there are a dozen stories about what happened tonight zooming through all four common rooms as we speak.”
“People will believe what they want to believe,” Steve said with a sigh. “That’s what seven years at this school taught me. Trying to control the rumor mill just isn’t worth the effort anymore.”
“Even if your fake coming-out has people thinking you’re not straight?”
Steve hummed in thought. “I don’t think I was faking it.”
Eddie’s jaw dropped. “What? You don’t think?”
“I never thought too much about it before but I guess I’m bi.”
“Is this… are you just realizing it now?”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re… cool with it?”
“Sure, it makes a lot of sense actually.”
Eddie stared at Steve. Eddie was… indirectly Steve Harrington’s bisexual awakening. The thought made something twist satisfyingly low in his belly, something other than hunger from his skipped dinner.
“You’re so weird, Steve Harrington,” Eddie said, still studying the guy.
The words came out more warmly than he intended, and Steve smiled brightly in response. And shit, those were fucking butterflies in Eddie’s stomach. This was not good.
“Well, I’m gonna make my way back to my common room,” Steve said after a while.
Eddie gasped and echoed. “My common room.”
His prank. His beautiful slime bomb. He’d missed it. All that work with no payoff.
“You set up a Halloween prank in your common room, didn’t you?” Steve smirked. “That’s your actual alibi?”
Eddie scowled. “Maybe. And where were you?”
Steve grinned. “In the music room. Fooling around. Just not with you.”
Eddie laughed and then literally had to bite his lip to stop himself from firing back, This time. Flirting with Steve could only be a bad idea. But then Steve’s eyes dropped to where Eddie’s teeth dug into his bottom lip, and Eddie needed to fucking leave before this got out of hand.
“Congratulations then,” Eddie choked out eventually. “Happy Halloween, Harrington. And uh, thanks. Again.”
“You’re welcome,” Steve told him. As Eddie made his way toward the dungeons, he didn’t hear Steve’s steps on the grand staircase for a long moment.
Eddie mumbled the Slytherin common room password, and the stone wall swung open to reveal… chaos. The place reeked of sweaty socks. Green slime clung to the carpets and the sharp corners of the furniture. It was mostly empty. Eddie guessed the students were hiding in their dormitories. But a few prefects huddled together, seething as they surveyed the mess.
“You!” shrieked Heather Holloway, a sixth-year prefect whose brown ponytail was currently clumped with slime. If people kept addressing Eddie in second person like that, he was going to develop a complex. “You did this, you absolute freak!”
“That’s quite an accusation, Heather,” Eddie said. After the Demogorgon Inquisition, Eddie was not in as performative a mood as he usually was. “Do you have any proof I would make such a mess of my own common room?”
“Yes, actually,” Heather replied primly. “The Orkin girl saw you setting the thing before the feast.”
“I doubt that,” Eddie frowned. He’d checked that the coast was clear before putting his plan into motion. But Angela Orkin was a prissy blonde brat who loved sucking up to Heather and the other prefects. The girl probably just fed Heather what she wanted to hear.
“Two weeks detention,” Heather snapped. “If you’re not already expelled for what you did to that cat.”
“I’m still here, unfortunately.”
“Lucky us. Get to cleaning, Freak.”
Eddie thought mournfully of the food waiting for him in his dormitory but he obliged to set up a cleaning charm. With Hopper’s punishment included, he was looking at detentions through most of November. Any more conflict with Heather would likely have him detained until the holidays.
His head ached fiercely by the time he clamored into his room. Billy Hargrove, the prefect of their year, called out his customary jibes in greeting, which Eddie ignored as he zeroed in on the plate of food on his nightstand. Billy got bored thankfully, and left Eddie to his devices. But Eddie’s nearest bedmate, Jonathan Byers, watched Eddie stuff his face with disgust.
While Jonathan wasn’t antagonistic toward Eddie like most others in his house (and the school), they weren’t friends. They begrudgingly accepted each other’s presence as fellow outcasts in a house that valued posh networking. The Byers weren’t purebloods in the slightest. And while the Munsons were an old Wizarding family, they were never wealthy and carried an unsavory reputation. Eddie’s father rotting in Azkaban was proof that there was some fact to the ever-persistent rumors.
But this exclusion was where Eddie and Jonathan’s similarities ended. Jonathan preferred to keep his head down and avoid potential threats – which meant people in general. Eddie would rather cause a scene and headbutt his problems in the nose. He sought the company of fellow misfits, like in the D&D club he ran, where Jonathan was more comfortable on his own.
They respected one another though, so when Eddie gave Jonathan a nod of acknowledgment around a too-large scoop of mashed potatoes, Jonathan returned it.
When Eddie had all but licked his plate (and it was a conscious effort to stop himself from doing so), he lay in bed, frowning up at the ceiling. He thought of Steve Harrington and his hazel-not-just-brown eyes dragging down to Eddie’s mouth. And he decided he should take a break from concocting prank potions because the chemical exposure must have caused him to hallucinate.