Chapter Text
It starts with Harry turning seventeen. Or, perhaps it starts when Ogden invents his firewhisky and it ends with Harry turning seventeen. The end of Harry’s easy life that is.
No matter the start, the point is, Harry turns seventeen (nineteen, she’s actually nineteen).
The point is Leo says they should go out for celebratory drinks at the Phoenix.
The point is, Harry spots Caelum on the way and decides the socialisation will do him good (and here lies the evidence of the pre-drinks she’d partaken in with Archie, thinking it a good idea to drag Caelum of all people to the Phoenix).
The point is, the glasses in the Phoenix are charmed against Caelum’s clever vanishing tricks.
All these little points keep adding up and adding up throughout the night, though Harry passes out long before she completes the calculation.
The point is, Harry wakes in her bed, two bodies bracketing her, and an ache unlike any she’s ever felt before (it’s a nice ache, like working out but much more rewarding).
She looks to the left and finds Lionel Hurst’s sleeping face. The right has a head of black hair with the face buried deep into the pillow; she’s reasonably certain it’s Caelum Lestrange. She’s between the two of them and there’s stuff on her that certainly isn’t clothing.
For all that the points have added up and the calculation is complete, it comes back in pieces.
Caelum’s flushed cheeks. Leo’s infectious smile. Bets on who can drink the most. Caelum or Leo telling the other to back off. Harry declaring she won’t be choosing one over the other to silence the argument.
She can’t remember who put forwards the idea of not having to choose (might have been her but she hasn’t meant it like that, like this). It’d sounded perfect at the time.
It explains well enough how she’s ended up sandwiched between the two in her double bed that really isn’t built to accommodate three. That’s not the reason they’re squished together though.
At least she’d had the forethought to head to her apartment instead of home.
Harry lays there, recognising she has two choices here.
She could skip out of bed, disappear before either of her companions awaken and then continue on as if nothing ever happened. It would draw the line upon what they’ve done, would make it explicitly clear this was nothing more than drunken revelry and that they shouldn’t have crossed the boarders of their friendship.
Leo shifts and the hot weight of his head comes to rest on her shoulder, his breath ghosting across her collarbone. Not to be outdone, Caelum grumbles something into the pillow he appears to still be attempting to suffocate himself with. The arm that she’d not really registered across her waist tightens, pulling her ever so slightly towards her fellow potions enthusiast. The slight swell of his biceps against her ribs is as distracting as the hard muscle of Leo’s thigh pressing against her own.
Or, there’s options two, where she can stay in bed, luxuriate in the bodies beside her and make it clear that, for all that ushering in a new era of potioneering is her primary focus... it doesn’t have to be her only focus.
Because she enjoys their company: Leo with his trickster ways and the dedication he has towards his people; Caelum’s potion theories and his snooty attitude that is (at this point in their friendship) nothing more than a facade.
Potions has been the epicentre of her life so far, the driving force that had carried her into Hogwarts’ welcoming arms.
But that won’t last forever.
And now that she’s approaching her final year... perhaps it’s time she starts looking into building something that will exist for Harriett Potter beyond the ruse.
Decided, Harry nestles her head back into the pillow, one hand wiggling down to rest on Caelum’s forearm, the other wrapping around Leo’s biceps. Then, she slips seamlessly back to sleep.
Of course, it’s Caelum that breaks the peace several hours later.
His muffled “fuck,” is spoken softly into the pillow, but is done so with feeling .
Harry just grunts, pulls his arm a little closer (ignores the zing of attraction that races through her as Leo’s leg is looped over one of hers) and grumble for him to go back to sleep.
Just a little while longer.