[Hogwarts Express] the year of the long way home [Caden]

Caden merely moved a bit closer to him at his shrugging. He couldn’t really expect him to understand what it was like from his point of view — after all, he hadn’t even yet met his parents. Perhaps it seemed sad, to an onlooker, but Caden didn’t really feel sad. More just hesitant. Like this news would be a burden, a source of annoyance. Hopefully they’d both be fine with it, but even so, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d always be just slightly disappointed. After all, as their only child, they’d extrapolated a lot of their own hopes and dreams onto him.

He smirked back at him and nodded. “Oh yes, the worst,” he teased, nudging him with his shoulder. “But I think you’re the best kissers,” he observed. “Although in my defense I guess I haven’t done much outside sampling,” he said softly before gently meeting Henry’s lips. His smile was so perfect, those freckled dimples. It was impossible to hate him. It was like hating a puppy.

Caden shook his head with a grin. “Oh my, I don’t think I could handle it,” he said, already imagining the affair. White knuckles holding forks. Off-color jokes causing him to knock over his water glass. A botched cleaning charm shrinking the china and making it all worse. His father thinking him some sort of fool as his mother laughed brightly. He was blushing from the daydream alone — the reality would be his end.

He was smiling as he listened to him talk, though his visage faltered at the remark. “Oh, right,” he said, looking down at the serpent stitched onto his robe. Sometimes he felt pride, like when he was around his father, but other times it was like a scarlet letter. Freak. Villain. Dark Wizard. He met Henry’s gaze. “I feel the need to clarify that I was joking before,” he said with a little half-smirk, his voice a bit thin. “Gryffindors are definitely not the worst.”

He squeezed Henry’s hand a little bit tighter.

“Don’t you dare be kissing anybody else,” said Henry. “Even for science.” He smiled into their brief kiss. Their house differences should never have meant much, but they separated them nonetheless, at meals, in experiences. Even— “Do you think the Slytherin dorms will be fixed by the time we come back?” he asked. “I mean, then we wouldn’t be sharing anymore.” He didn’t want to think about it, could barely even fathom it. Lying in bed alone with Caden under all those floors.

He smiled again, a little more forced, as Caden joked. “Yeah, I’d never dream of it,” he said. Not the least because he wasn’t sure he wanted Caden’s fancy family knowing how country he was. Usually he wasn’t embarrassed of his family, but usually he wasn’t confronted with people so important, who he wanted to not think badly of him so much.

Caden sobered, though, at his words. “I—“ he said, “really, don’t worry about it. It won’t matter, they’ll see how much it doesn’t matter.” Giving Caden an encouraging lopsided smile, he let him squeeze his hand. “I love you, that’s all it is.”

Caden was smirking ear to ear. Maybe it was odd, but there was something very sexy about Henry’s possessiveness over him. Caden didn’t mind it at all. He was his and he wanted to be, always. His smile faltered though when Henry brought up something that had long been on his mind. He nodded grimly. “I’m afraid that we’ll be, you know, separated again,” he said quietly. He’d become so accustomed to sleeping beside the boy that the idea of having to go it alone was troubling, to say the least. He was worried about being back home, even.

He looked to him and smiled back, trying his best. “Let’s just not… think about all that,” he managed. He had to believe that he’d be with him again, when the month was over. The idea of going back without anything being the same was too taxing to bear. Not when he had so much on the precipice before him. Not when he was going to kiss Henry on the platform for everyone to see. He had to believe things would work out, be better. Be happy and good and comfortable.

He squeezed his hand at the reassurance. “It’s a lot,” he said simply, “how much I love you,” he clarified before resting his head on the boy’s shoulder. He didn’t want to do this, being apart, any of that. He just wanted Henry, that was all. He wanted him to be near and to be safe and to be able to kiss him any time he wanted. “One day we’ll be out in the world,” he said with hope, “and there won’t be any houses or separations — just you and me,” he said fondly.

They just had to make it there, and once they did, everything would be perfect.

The thought had seemingly occurred to Caden too. It struck fear into Henry. What if they grew apart? It was proximity that got them together, after all. They’d never have spoken if the Slytherin dorms hadn’t been destroyed. What if the Slytherins had moved in with the Ravenclaws instead? Would Caden be kissing someone else, someone much smarter, more like him?

“Sure,” he said, though he wasn’t sure he could stop thinking about it. That wasn’t how his brain worked; things took ahold of his mind and didn’t let go, creeping in again whenever he tried to beat them back.

Caden returned his head to Henry’s shoulder and Henry sighed. Everything was about to change. This moment, this comforting little moment in this secluded little compartment, was the last they had of how things had been. Once they arrived at King’s Cross there would be families and separations and the world trying to get in between them. He hoped they were tough enough. He hoped they made it far enough to be on their own, the way Caden was describing.

Buildings were starting to appear outside of the windows, the city coming into view in the distance. “We’re almost there,” said Henry. Softly, mournfully.

He was lying upon him as the sounds changed, more urgent, more industrial. Buildings were whirling past and he knew it before Henry spoke. “I know,” he said quietly, as though it were a secret. Perhaps if he was very quiet, very still, he might not have to be away from him after all. He knew he was being ridiculous, selfish. This was insanity, to be safe and free and alive and yet mournful. Perhaps the truth was that, really, Henry wasn’t just Henry. He was a piece of Caden. And for a while, he’d have to leave that piece elsewhere.

No wonder none of this felt right.

The train gently stopped and Caden rose, brushing off his robes and fiddling with his hair. “How do I look?” he wondered nervously as he pulled his sweater vest down, righting all the winkles, checking his buttons and lapels. He wasn’t concerned with vanity in the slightest, but he did want to look his best to calm his parents. He knew how worried they must be, the tales they must have heard. Surely if he’d survived all that, all those horrors, his homosexuality would be a small pill to swallow?

He looked to Henry, plainly, refusing to get weepy or fall to pieces. Not now, not when they were here. He had to put on a brave face. It was showtime. “C’mon,” he said slowly, taking his hand and leading him out of the compartment. His hand was like a vice grip on the other boy's, tight and compressing as they waded through the crowd. And all at once they were on the platform, sunlight streaming in as steam billowed. Families were crying, children running into their parents arms. Caden was realizing it now, in this context. They’d survived a war.

His knees were shaking with each step, his hand still tightly around Henry’s. His knuckles were white, his palm sweaty. He saw them then, a tall and broad shouldered man with dark hair and spectacles, his arm around a woman. She was shorter, petite, her hair pulled back in ponytail that had clearly served to tame the ordinarily wild and unruly locks. Her face was warm, smiling, on the verge of tears. He was more stoic, searching the crowd in his own sense of desperation. They wanted their boy back. They wanted him home.

And as his mother was waving, Caden turned, everything seeming to move in its own time as he met Henry’s handsome, freckled face. He took his other hand, his heart thundering so loudly it dulled the roar of the platform to nothingness. He was holding his gaze, waiting, watching. His knees became steady. His heart began to slow. With Henry, like this, he was a whole piece. Altogether. His anxieties fell away, blowing in the wind like a cloak that had been weighing him down all this time. A smile, surprising and out of place, spread across his lips. “I’m going to kiss you now, Henry,” he announced plainly.

Before anyone could stop him or try to change his mind, the boy was hooking his hands on Henry’s waist and pulling him closer, chest to chest as bold, unyielding lips met Henry’s. He kissed him hard, hands sliding up, cupping his face, resting on his neck. Every motion, every second reminded him that he was alive. He had survived. And he was going to make the most of it. He broke apart finally, laughing in surprise, blinking at Henry.

Suddenly, he wasn’t that worried about the serpentine badge emblazoned on his robe. After that little display, he was quite certain that all the emerald green was melting away to reveal a bright, crimson red. After a beat, he spoke. “D’you think they saw?” he joked to break the tension.

They slowed to a stop with the sound of screeching gears. The sight of all the concerned faces on the platform made Henry want to jump out of the train as quick as he could.

Caden rose more deliberately, smoothing his clothes and his hair. Henry brushed the front locks out of his eyes. “You look great,” he said. “Of course, I think you always do, so you might not want to take it from me.” He smiled fondly. This was it. “How about me?” he said with a laugh, running his hand over his own hair, pretending that it was long enough to ever move. “Don’t want them to think you’ve gone and fallen for a slob.” He was a little serious about it. He wanted the Rothways to think he was good for their boy, worried they’d think he wasn’t.

The hand in his was tight and the control was all Caden’s. Henry willingly let him lead, was pulled out onto the platform. Standing on his tiptoes he searched for his family. His dad, the tallest of them. In the chaos though he couldn’t find him, not as he was pulled through the mass of sorrowful joy. Not before Caden turned to face him and stare him down.

“Er, okay,” said Henry. “You know, you don’t have to say so—“

His body was jerked forwards then and he still managed to be caught by surprise even with the declaration of intent. Caden’s lips met his with an unexpected fervor, solid and warm, a deeper kiss than he’d ever intended to show his family.

The other boy pulled back, laughing. Henry couldn’t tell if it was nervous laughter, or relieved. "I think everybody saw,” he mumbled, a little embarrassed. He wasn’t sure if that was true, people seemed to be passing them without a second glance, but it sure felt like everybody had seen. He wondered if his family was in that crowd, looking on. He wondered which one was Caden’s. Probably the ones looking at them, wide-eyed.

"Come on,” he said, summoning that Gryffindor spirit and taking Caden’s hand again. “Let’s go meet them.”