Tᴜᴄᴋᴇʀ. Sixth year Hufflepuff at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I enjoy long walks by the Black Lake, my feline familiar Crow, and sweet maryjane. Photography aficionado and classic rock devotee. I rarely make sense and I've got secrets, just like everyone else.
The Great Hall had been returned to its usual set-up: four long tables with benches running parallel, candles floating overhead, and students scattered around the room, drifting between tables and talking with their friends. To Keller, it was easy to forget that anything had happened in there just a night ago, but try as he might, he wasn’t afforded that luxury. The appearance of Lowell had set him on edge, and even though he didn’t have an appetite, he did push around a piece of toast and sip at a cup of tea, all while frowning so deeply he was sure his face would be permanently etched that way. While he was staring intently at his toast, someone slid onto the bench across from him and Keller glanced up, trying to look normal. “Did you have a good night?” he asked on reflex, his go-to topic with everyone since the Ball had ended and normality had returned, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear anything to the contrary.
Because Keller was not only a seventh year student, but Head Boy, it was hard to stumble upon him entirely alone; he was usually with a classmate, professor, or textbook. Preoccupied, essentially. Tucker hated to bother people in the first place, but as someone who knew the heavy, unwavering weight the Ravenclaw carried on his shoulders no matter the situation, there wasn’t an ideal time to approach him. That moment was as good as any. He was surprised by Keller’s greeting; surely there were other things he wanted to speak about? Well. Maybe want wasn’t the right word. Felt compelled to inquire about, perhaps? Giving a small shrug, Tucker smiled lightly. “S’okay. You?”
"I dunno…would that be considered rude? Like…a slap in the face to our new minister? It’s just a tie, but at the same time…does it mean something in the wizarding world? These are probably questions that won’t get answered…" Cary finished his rambling with a small shrug before he started following Tucker’s lead and loosening his tie. "Hey, I think you could pull off Daniel Craig’s bond. I’m the one who’s better suited for Q."
"I don’t really care," Tucker sighs, already loosening his tie. "I wore it for a couple of hours. That’s enough for me—like, my neck is so sweaty right now, Cary. It’s disgusting. As for wizarding world robes… I mean… you’ve seen them, right? They’re a bit… archaic. Surely my drabby old tie only makes my status as a muggle—no, sorry, half-blood? Whatever. I grew up in the muggle world, so… Ugh. Confusing. Forget it." He pulls it off the long strip of fabric entirely, throwing it onto the table beside them with a laugh. "Hah, what? I don’t even qualify as an extra—hey! Q is a very valuable player. Don’t even.”
"Love you, mate," Paxton mumbled into the kiss, desperately needing Tucker to just… just tilt his head a little more, like before, to be honest. He wouldn’t ask, though. Pax would take what he was given— was more than happy about this— and any more than that would probably fill his heart to bursting, anyway. He was already giddy, overwhelmed by his best friend’s less-than-careful kiss.
He hadn’t really expected Tucker to want to kiss him, after all. Not now. Not when Maeko was in the picture, finally, after all this time. But just having Tucker hold him close like this settled something small and worried deep inside him, something Paxton hadn’t even known was there. He smoothed a hand up Tucker’s chest, holding tightly to his lapel.
Tucker couldn’t breathe—and not just because his mouth was preoccupied. Interesting. He’d never really understood Paxton’s ‘needs’, they differed from Tucker’s own in innumerable ways, but this… he got it. There was something about sharing a kiss with someone who wanted to kiss back; it made skin crawl and insides turn to mush. Kissing him was very different than kissing Maeko—with her, there was a desperate, fiery, intense air about it. A promise for things to come. Pax, though… he made Tucker feel safe and comfortable and a little less alone. It was a perfect way to express their closeness. “Love you, too, you strange little chap.”
"Ah… it makes you more uptight instead of being able to relax, doesn’t it?" She glances at the aurors that Lowell brought with him, and wrinkled her nose. "If I remember correctly, either dress robes or formal attire was required… and there was no mention of a tie anywhere."
“Yes,” he sighs roughly, pulling at the noose around his neck. “It really does. I prefer chill kickbacks—classic rock, some beers, a nice smoky haze in the air. This is not my scene.” As soon as he pulls off the tie, he discards it, letting it fall onto the tabletop beside an unguarded purse. “Whoa. So much better. Like… so much.”
"Dunno," Paxton exhaled, flapping the sleeves of his dress robes in the vain hopes of some kind of ventilation in the hot Great Hall. He was probably dehydrated; the room seemed dizzying in its color and sound. "Maeko’s probably ruined you for everyone else."
Tucker grins toothily, shrugging. “Won’t know if that’s true ‘til I try, ey?” Without hesitation, Tucker leans forward and presses his lips to Paxton’s. The kiss was an impulsive action, but despite that, it was lovely. Not like kissing Maeko, sure, but nothing Tucker did with anyone else compared to when he did that same thing with her, so it was an unfair comparison. Pax was still Pax, though, and there was something special about being permitted to kiss him. Tucker couldn’t help but smile.
"Way too fancy?" she asked, referring to the ball. "I don’t think anyone would mind if you did that. Take your tie off, I mean. They’re probably too busy dancing to notice."
"Too… monitored. I need to let my freak flag fly… can’t really do that here." He considers her words, a small grin coming across his face. "Brilliant. Good point. What is the dress code for this shindig, anyway?”
"I was actually just saying I could do without the suffocating neck piece…" Cary said, looking down at his lopsided tie. "But at least it makes us look a bit like James Bond?"
"I mean, are they required? Can we just… remove them? Leave them on one of the tables and pretend they’re not ours?" Tucker grins cheekily, already loosening the useless piece of fabric. "I’ll never look like Bond, no matter how hard I try, so’s I’m okay with leaving this bloody thing behind."