gooseberryhigh | (no subject)

Who: Damon Evercreech & Rory Montague
When: Monday morning, before the Hogwarts students leave
Where: The Lodge
What: Reconciliationish. I meant to tag quidditch on my lunch break. I wrote this instead. So, let's not let it go to waste.
Warnings: Frankly just excessive language. And me writing by myself which always deserves a warning.

Rory Montague does not need to see Damon Evercreech to know that he’s sneaking up behind him. So Rory doesn’t flinch when Dimi steps next to him outside the lodge, hands in his pockets. He doesn’t even glance in Dimi’s direction when the other boy muses, in his sing-song west country accent, “Someone’s been avoidin’ me.”

“You’re an arse,” Rory says without love before Damon’s even finished the thought. He ascends the front stairs, a bag slung over his shoulder. Dimi follows. When Rory finally looks at Damon, the other boy is smiling. Fucking hell.

“Thank you for noticing.” Dimi responds, beaming as though he’s just received a thoughtful compliment. He pushes open the doors to the lodge and lets Rory step in first. “Quite the performance on the pitch, today. You were brilliant. Goyle’s still gobshite, though.”

Rory rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s pretty sure he didn’t want this encounter. But here it is, anyway. May as well deal with it. “Alright,” he stops just past the door and turns to face Damon, glaring. “Tell me. How long did it take you to work up the courage to walk over here and say that to me?”

“Fuck off,” Dimi says with a dismissive wave of his arm. He takes command of their conversation, like he always does, and steers Rory off to the side, away from the door. “I would’ve come sooner but you’ve been watchin’ me like a hawk all weekend. It was awkward.”

“Right. Thought you liked 'em awkward, though.”

Dimi's smile tugs into a lopsided grin. “Again, mate,” after a suitably aggressive pause, he intones, “Fuck off.”

This makes Rory smirk, but the smile is gone just as quickly as it appears, back to stony impatience. Damon Evercreech is certifiably the worst. This observation is immediately reinforced when Dimi laughs at Rory’s momentary lapse in composure. It’s not hard to jab at him after that, “Regretting running away at all?”

“No,” Dimi replies, leading with an unconvincing scoff. Still, if it threw him off, he’s quick to recover. “Have you seen it here? The mountains? The people? Makes Hogwarts Hottest look positively homely. And they have art classes.”

“Oh, art classes.” Rory turns away, mocking the hard 't’ sound of Dimi’s accent as he echoes him. “Of course, that’s worth abandoning your best mates for.”

Dimi snorts, furrowing his brow. “Can’t abandon anythin’ when you’ve had everything taken from you.” He runs his hand over his mouth, staring down at the floor. A near eternity of unpleasant silence passes, neither boy looking at the other, before Dimi coolly asks, “Where’s Erin?”

“With Poke.” Rory replies, not missing a beat. His gaze flicks back to Dimi to gauge his reaction. It’s … not what he expects.

“Cor, that tosser?” Dimi shrugs, disbelieving but not particularly bothered by this information. “What a downgrade.” He sounds like they’re discussing a bad quidditch trade.

Rory shifts, not quite turning back to rejoin the conversation. It’s a bit of a struggle not to elaborate too much. To launch into the over-animated conversations they used to have. “Not what she thought.”

Dimi laughs, a rough snort as he pushes his hair back, “Yeah? Well, she dated you and me, so her judgment can’t be that great.”

The lines of Rory’s face draw tight. He’s trying not to laugh.

Dimi’s smile takes a bit of an earnest turn. It’s not the gigawatt grin he wears when he’s trying to be impressive. “She cut you out, Ro?”

“Needs ‘space.’” He explains. The air quotes are implied.

“Yeah. You should’ve come to Gooseberry. I’m sure they could’ve squeezed you into Azurcrest.” Dimi grins.

Rory doesn’t get the joke, though Dimi seems terribly amused by it. It’s a bit irritating, not getting it. He used to get all of Damon’s jokes. This is awful. Rory hates Damon Evercreech.

Time to change the subject. “You like the Borgin girl.” Rory observes flatly.

“Merlin, stalker. Did you take notes about my day? Want to borrow my camera and get a few candids before you head back? Need a lock of my hair?” A pause, and a click of his tongue, “Yes, very much.”

Rory’s eyes narrow. He stares at Dimi like he’s taking aim at him. Ready to loose an arrow.

“Fuck off, Rory, seriously.” Dimi adds in a tone that implies he does not seriously want Rory to fuck off.

Rory’s expression cracks into a wide grin. “I forgive you.” He blurts.

Dimi takes a step back, disbelieving huff of a laugh escaping him. “You forgive me? Oh, gurt lush. Beautiful, that.”

That was not the reaction Rory had expected, either. It wipes the smile clean off his face. “What?”

“You’re kidding.” Dimi says, knowing that Rory is not, in fact, kidding. “Why would you--when I--Ah, you’re a knob. And I’ve missed you. Shite.”

Rory is quiet in response to this admission. His dark eyes search Damon’s face. Maybe he doesn’t hate Damon. “It’s been rough not having you around, Dimi.”

“Aw,” Dimi sweeps his arms out. “Come here, then, 'ansome.”

After an unsure pause, Rory awkwardly steps into a hug. Dimi wraps his hands around Rory’s back, giving him a solid pat, and then, in one swift movement, reaches his hand down and pulls the back of Rory’s t-shirt up and over his head. “You utter knob,” Dimi declares. “You forgive me? Fuck off, Rory Montague.”

“Prick.” Rory grumbles not unaffectionately as he struggles to right his shirt, again. Dimi takes a step back to avoid the swing he knows is coming for him. Rory swipes uselessly at the air.

“Get yourself back to Hogwarts, Rory. It was good seeing you.” Dimi says, walking away backwards, waving at the boy still wrestling with his clothes.

“You’re a prick.” Rory repeats as he finally reassembles himself. His hair is a mess and he’s scowling openly.

Dimi laughs, turns and walks away. “See you in July, Rory. Tell your mum I can’t wait to see her, again.”