Chapter Text
‘We’re engaged,’ proclaims Charles, his French accent slipping through into every word he says, just when Lando opens the door to their compartment. Summer’s over, and he’s never been more eager to be back to school and to his friends, which doesn’t stop him from raising his eyebrows. ‘Did everything properly, rituals and stuff, rings, oaths, and all the things, and we’re getting married once we’re both over eighteen. Say you’re happy for me, Lando, or I’ll kick your ass out.’
The ring on his finger really looks good, must be some family heirloom or something. Purebloods and their long lines, would Lando sigh, if he didn’t have the same things from his mum’s side. Dad is, unfortunately for some idiot purists, a half-blood, and the word makes him laugh. ‘Half-blood, half-mud, that’s where it came from, and now they’re using it as if it has no bad meaning,’ he says all the time. He’s learned to not pay attention to this kind of things. Lando still has to work for it.
‘I’m happy,’ he raises his eyebrows again, ‘but why doesn’t Max wear his? Or you cheated on him and it’s not actually him you’re engaged to?’
Max doesn’t even look his way, just throws a Berty Botts bean at him, looking annoyed, and Lando instantly regrets catching it with his mouth: it’s earwax. Ew. Charles squeaks angrily at the same time.
‘I’ll just let you know you’re lucky my Alex doesn’t hear your stupid allegations,’ he says, voice dripping with indignation. ‘Also, me and Max are just friends. Best friends, but still friends. So fuck you.’
‘Affectionately,’ adds Max, still paying more attention to sorting the Berty Botts in a futile attempt to separate them into groups of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ tastes, but the corner of his mouth twitches, and you don’t even have to squint to see he’s trying hard not to laugh. ‘But yeah. Fuck you, dude.’
Lando sighs dramatically, plopping himself on the seat, then decides to turn his eyes upwards for more theatricity. ‘I’d say something along the lines of no one wanting to fuck me, but it’s not like any of you would get some any time soon. So yeah, fuck every one of us, hopefully not mentally.’
It’s not even that it’s bad. The year is definitely not going to be more stressful than the last one; they’re in their sixth, the OWLs were last year, and the NEWTs aren’t coming until the next school year. Mint, he said when he got his result: nothing lower than Above Expectations. It’s just that they’re teenagers and stuff, and who wouldn’t want some love and affection? But here’s Charles, heart-eyes while writing his fiancée a letter and muttering something under his nose when the train shakes a bit, as if he didn’t last see his ‘beautiful, wonderful Alexandra’ less than five hours ago (on that Lando can swear on his life), and here’s Max, who gets the same heart-eyes when he sees Professor Piquet, always so kind and smiling and (unfortunately for Max) married, and he’s… well, alone. He might have almost anyone, Charles once said, wiggling his eyebrows towards a group of giggling girls, after they had one too many butterbeers, and he was not drunk (getting drunk on butterbeer seems just as easy as getting tired on resting), but more like high on sugar. But the problem is, he doesn’t want just anyone. He wants to click. He wants to feel the butterflies, and the heat, and all those things people talk about. And he’s even kissed people: multiple people, multiple times. But in the end it’s all in vain, and he’s here, and his friends are happy with their fantasies about their futures with women they love, and he’s just Lando.
‘Earth to Lando,’ calls Charles’ voice from next to his ear, startling him. The guys laugh, when he almost jumps. Muppets. ‘Oh, you’re back to us. I was afraid I’d have to bite your ear off or something.’
Charles, thinks Lando, wouldn’t be able to bite anything off anyone, unless provoked. But he doesn’t really want to provoke him. They say that out of these two Max is the dangerous one. Well, Lando still remembers the way that Charles pushed Max off the school broom back in year one just because they had an argument mid-air. He was blazing in fury, and this picture is engraved in Lando’s brain still, as nightmare fuel. So yeah, he knows that this sweet and almost cute boy is a menace that doesn’t stop when causing damage, but he also knows that this fury has never been directed at him. He just hopes it stays the same.
‘Here,’ he finally says, as both Charles and Max look at him, as if expecting something. ‘What did I miss?’
‘Oh, nothing much,’ Charles’ mouth twitches, his attempts to stop himself from smiling just as noticeable as Max’s earlier, but less successful. ‘We were just discussing our extra subjects for this year. Y’know, NEWTs not being far from us and all of that, we might as well just decide on the subjects now. It’s not like they’re adding one or two more while we’re on the train.’
‘I’m taking Alchemy and extra Runes,’ chimes in Max. Of course he’s taking Alchemy, that’s going to double his time in the same room with Professor Piquet, Lando thinks — Charles definitely thinks the same, judging by another twitch of his lips and those faint laughing lines appearing at the corners of his eyes. ‘I know what you’re thinking, and you better not say it out loud. Dean Web actually suggested I take Alchemy, so…’
‘So you have a backing in case anyone asks if you’re doing it for your crush,’ finishes Lando, ducks behind Charles from yet another Berty Botts bean thrown at him. Charles catches this one with his mouth, yells ‘that was raspberry!’, and Lando actually suspects Max likes this muppet much more than him. ‘I’m in Runes with you, and advanced Transfiguration. Prof Sainz said I can try and get my aniform this year, I’m good enough for it. Been good enough in fourth, but he wasn’t so sure it’d be safe. And if I did it in fourth, you bet Cis would try and do it in third.’
‘Your sister is a menace,’ Charles chuckles. ‘I’d keep an eye on her if I were you. Last year, I heard, she set her eye on Hadjar, that Hufflepuff Keeper boy. Who knows, maybe she’s looking for him while you’re here with us?’
Lando pokes him in the ribs with his elbow, making him yelp and mutter something in Italian. Multilingual bugger.
‘I’ll write to your Alexandra that you’re bullying me based on the fact of me being a big brother,’ he threatens. Charles rolls his eyes. Max chuckles in his seat, still opposite the two of them. ‘You still didn’t tell us what you’re choosing.’
‘Advanced Herbology and advanced Potions, but not to the Alchemy level,’ Charles sighs. ‘Family business. Maman says it’s gonna thrive if I’m putting my talents to use, but I still feel like Arthur would be doing a much better job, if they pushed him towards it. I think his talent is bigger than mine, just not as developed.’
‘He probably thinks your talent was bigger even before being developed, so shut up,’ deadpans Max. ‘You’ve got a talent. I’ve got a fight with my family every time they want to talk about my future plans. Can’t wait to be seventeen and just not go home anymore. Pity it’s going to be difficult to find a job to earn my living until I’m outta school.’
‘Well, that’s going to be your way to prove to everyone you’re worthy of being seen as an adult and not just a whimsical kid,’ Charles shrugs, eyes twinkling for just a moment. They don’t and they won’t comment on it. Max’s crush is married and had a baby a shorter while ago: they saw her outside with the little one a couple of times during breaks in spring and early summer, when it was warm enough to go for long walks. Lando can’t stop thinking that this is where these two, best friends since before he appeared, are so damn different, one being happy enough with his love life to walk on air, the other not daring to approach the one he once told them is the love of his life, afraid to do something that would ruin her. And people still keep thinking Max Verstappen is scared of nothing. ‘Anyways, Mr team captain, you do remember we need a new Chaser this year, after Checo graduated?’
‘Don’t remind me of this asshole leaving us in the dust,’ groans Max. ‘I’ll now have to get someone new as soon as possible. Preferably a girl, to make it a girl trio, because I have no fucking idea, how did Checo even manage working with Hannah and Magui — sorry, Lando.’
‘No biggie,’ Lando shakes his head, dismissing it. They had that… something, him and Magui, but by the end of the school year they’ve both decided this is not for them. ‘I’m actually more worried she might want to leave the team. That would make us have to look for two Chasers, not just one. But if there’s a choice, her or me…’
‘Then you fucking stay on the team, or do you think my biggest dream right now is to be looking for a Seeker?’ Max interrupts, not looking happy at all. ‘The only one fit to replace you would be that Lindblad kid, I’ve seen him at the Flying lessons last year, looks airborne, but you’re not worse and you’ve been trained already. He needs time and preparation in order to be able to take your place when we graduate.’
Quidditch captain Max, thinks Lando, is not a worse person than friend-Max. Just with different goals, like winning the Cup year after year. At least he isn’t ready to stomp everyone, no matter the team, into the ground, just to win it. He’s heard there’s been… situations, when captains played dirty against the rival teams and exploited their own, only caring for the victory. Not Max, and that’s one of the reasons they’re all thankful.
And he’d be damned if these words from Max, serving as an acknowledgement of his importance for the team and the House, don’t tickle him in some pleasant way. He wants to be important. He might step back if needed, but there’s something nice about not having to do it. And if this makes him egotistical, sue him, he’ll take it.
‘Leclerc,’ George sticks his head through the door, his green-and-silver tie already on, ‘here you are. We should all be in the prefects’ car in five. Norris, Verstappen, glad you’re not dead yet.’
‘Georgie,’ chirps a soft reproachful voice behind him: that must be Carmen, his girlfriend, the other Slytherin prefect. Not that Lando’s heard her voice a lot, she’s mostly writing, not speaking, but who else would dare call George Russell Georgie? ‘Be nice to people, for Merlin’s sake.’
‘I am nice,’ he retorts instantly, his voice softening a fraction while he’s talking to Carmen. ‘I said I’m glad they’re not dead, didn’t I? Anyways, Leclerc, don’t be late.’
Charles rolls his eyes at the door, already closed, but obliges. Tie, cloak, a hand run through his hair, a nod to the two of them — he’s out in two minutes. Lando exhales slowly, closes his eyes for a second, then reaches for his trunk to grab his copy of «Animagi: how to find your second self»: Max has already stuck his nose into his Runes handbook. It’s going to be a long journey. He doesn’t mind it.