eιgнтeen

The outside of the house stared smugly at Callum as one of its occupants blatantly ignored him. The ivy crawling up the walls seemed to have become denser since the last time he had seen them, and he kept his eyes fixated on the tiny red and yellow flowers that grew on pots hanging from the windows. A bird sat perched on one of the trailing ivy.

The past few months had been rather uncomfortable for Callum, for Aiden completely ignored him in school and pretended like he was invisible. It seemed like an astonishing feat to him, as they shared the same classes and sat no greater than a few feet away from each other, but Aiden somehow managed to accomplish it. But it wasn't like Callum was making an effort in trying to talk to him either; he had no idea what to say to him.

But now the Christmas break had started, and Harry had written to say that he would be visiting today. Callum didn't want to feel awkward in front of Harry, and thought it would be best to talk to Aiden and simplify matters between them.

He was considering whether to ring the bell once again or just leave, when the door opened, revealing Aiden, who looked unusually grumpy. He pursed his lips together and prayed that this would go well.

"Hi," said Aiden, showing no emotion whatsoever on his face, nor expressing it on his voice. Callum rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, racking his brain in an attempt to remember what he had planned to say to him.

"Aiden," he began after inhaling a deep breath. "I – uh – just want to say I don't feel ashamed of you. I have nothing against your stuttering. The reason I showed no interest in you is I always saw you as a friend – and – well –" he turned his head and looked away bashfully. "– I already have a boyfriend."

The word came out hardly audible. It sounded strange on his lips – novel, unknown and entirely sweet. He and Harry have never spoken about the stage of their relationship, but he thought it was safe to say that they were no longer simply friends.

Aiden's reaction wasn't quite what he had expected. His eyes widened momentarily before a look of comprehension took over his features. "Oh. You – why didn't you te–tell me?"

He looked at him surprise, meeting his hazel eyes that held no resent as he had expected to see. "It's not something you would go and tell everyone about, is it?"

"No, I suppose not." He paused. "I'm sorry for the outbu–burst. I was just angered because I thought you didn't want to hang out with me."

Callum pressed his lips and said, with a shake of his head, "There's no need to apologise."

"Who is he, by the way?" asked Aiden. "I never see you hanging out with anyone."

"He's not from our school," Callum shrugged. "He lives in the neighbourhood, though." Not wanting to be questioned any further, unsure of how much of Little Whinging was told that Harry went to a school for incurably criminal boys, he turned to head home. Harry would be arriving now, anyway. "See you later, then?"

Aiden nodded and smiled. "See you later."

He hurried home, and once he had locked the door and gone to the fireplace, he saw the floor near it was sprinkled with emerald green powders that glistened softly in the light. Just then, he heard a few happy barks from Four from upstairs, and realised that Harry was probably in his room right now.

He, indeed, found Harry there, lying on the bed and trying to solve the Rubik's cube he had been playing for the half hour before heading to Aiden's. Harry didn't notice him; not until he climbed onto the bed and took the cube from him. "Do you even know how to solve this?" he asked as he began to solve the cube. Harry raised himself on his elbows and kept his frowning eyes fixed on his hands as he spoke.

"No, but I was trying. Where were you?"

Callum laughed. "You can't just try to solve a cube. You need to have the steps memorised. And I was at a friend's house."

"Really?" His frown deepened, and he once again lay back on the bed. "I always thought you needed to use your brain to solve it."

"Far from it really."

In a few minutes, the Rubik's cube was aligned, and Callum proudly presented it to Harry, who snorted. He moved to take the cube from him when Callum noticed the small paper bag that rested beneath his arm.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Oh, I forgot." He took the bag out and handed it over to him. "This is for you. Mrs Weasley made it."

Surprised, Callum received it and tore open the package. It was soft, and once the two layers of paper were removed, there came out a knitted jumper, mauve in colour, that felt warm and comfortable under his hand. He unfolded it and saw a large C printed on the front in a dark blue. Touched as well as taken aback, he stared for a moment at Harry before finally opening his mouth.

"Thanks. This is – she only met me once. Why would she bother –"

"She gave me a jumper in my first year," spoke Harry, "when she didn't know me well enough, except that I was Ron's friend." He paused, and a frown appeared on his face. "Though, I'm not sure if you'd be able to wear it in front of your parents."

But Callum had already taken off his own jumper to wear the knitted one. It fit perfectly, and provided just enough warmth to be comfortable as well. He felt genuinely happy, but less for the jumper, than for the fact that someone he met only once had taken the time to knit it for him. "I'll just pretend that I bought it myself." He looked up from the jumper and grinned at Harry, who was wearing his own Molly Weasley jumper. "Oh look, we match."

He lay down on his stomach, beside Harry, who had again busied himself in trying to solve the Rubik's cube, rather fruitlessly, as Callum reminded him, though he refused to memorise any steps, claiming stubbornly that it was possible to do it by sheer brain power. Callum, with a sigh, extracted a marker from the table, and after pushing back the sleeve of his jumper, began to draw on Harry's arm. He protested only halfheartedly.

Suddenly, a loud cry echoed through the room, startling Callum. He looked, wide eyed, at Harry, and saw him clutching his nose. "What happened?"

"Your Rubik's cube fell on my face." A pause. "Don't laugh."

Pressing his lips to repress his laughter, he reached toward him and placed several small kisses on his nose and cheeks. Harry groaned in annoyance and tried to push him away.

"There," said Callum once he was done kissing him. "Does it feel better now?"

"Much."

As the deep green colour of Harry's eyes stared back at him, Callum suddenly found his smile fading. He pulled away and turned, so that they both faced the ceiling. "What's the –" he began uncertainly. Harry gazed at him with a worried look, but he avoided his eyes. "– I mean – what's the future? For us? For our relationship, I mean? Can it work out, do you think?"

"Why not?" Harry questioned in a soft voice. "Are you worried because we're both boys? These kinds of relationships are getting accepted, you know? Even in my year, there are two boys who I'm quite certain have something going on between them –"

"No, that's not what I meant," Callum interrupted him, shaking his head. "I mean, yes, that also raises concern, but that wasn't exactly what I was talking about."

Harry turned to lie on his side, and reached his hand out to turn his face toward him. "If you say it's because you are a squib, I'll never let you draw on my hand again."

Despite himself, Callum laughed. "Really? That's the best threat you can come up with?"

But Harry looked serious, and he refused to laugh. He sighed and turned to face him. "I don't really know. Sometimes I feel resentful towards you. Sometimes I want to be with you because you tell me all these amazing things I love hearing about. And then, we don't even get to see each other that much. I just – don't feel so sure sometimes that it could work out."

"When I graduate from Hogwarts, we can catch up," suggested Harry, reaching his hand out to stroke his hair. Callum suddenly blushed. All those months staying away from Harry had caused his inhibitions to return, and he couldn't smile at him without feeling shy and awkward. "We can meet everyday. As for the squib part, I don't see why it can't work out. A lot of muggles and wizards have relationship too."

"But muggles and squibs are not the same, are they?" Callum's voice rose, and he pushed Harry's hand away before rising to a sitting position. He felt frustrated. He just couldn't make Harry understand that he wasn't a muggle. "Muggles don't know about the wizarding world until their partners choose to tell them. But squibs do. They know, they fantasise, they hide their desires. Until they meet a wizard who tells them how amazing the world is and the fantasies turn into a lost dream that will never come true. And you probably won't understand Harry, but it's not easy for me."

Harry was sitting beside him, but he couldn't see his face, for he kept his head low. Finally, Harry put a hand on his shoulders and pulled him towards him, saying in a soft voice, "I'm sorry, Callum. But is there anything I can do about this?"

He turned and wrapped his arms around his waist, his head rested on his shoulder. "No. There's nothing."

"If you want to, we could go somewhere?" Harry suggested, somewhat uncertainly. "Not in a wizarding place, like last time. But somewhere muggle. Or maybe we could just walk around? Get your mind off all things magic."

Callum tilted his head up and gave what he hoped was a mischievous smile. "Are you asking me on a date, Harry?"

He was glad that he had decided to look up, for Harry's suddenly magenta face was something he wouldn't want to miss out on. "Maybe," he sputtered. Callum chuckled and placed a kiss on the side of his neck.

"I would love to go out with you."