Chapter Text
Never in his wildest dreams would Evan have thought that he’d be hanging out with Gryffindors on a regular basis. Let alone becoming close friends with one of the most stereotypical Gryffindors since the founder himself.
Admittedly, at the start of term–despite James assuring him otherwise– he’d assumed that the two of them would drift apart, preoccupied with their own friend groups. When James had approached after potions a couple weeks ago, he’d been under the impression that he could incorporate him into his group. If the way he’d looked when Slughorn had essentially put him on display in front of their entire class had been any indication, they all at the very least had a shared disdain for their potions professor. It could have been the start of a beautiful friendship.
Then, Barty had to go and run his mouth.
It shouldn’t have been as much of a surprise as it was that Barty had gone off on James the way that he had. He’d just assumed that his word would be enough to convince his friends that they’d been wrong about James Potter, that the James that they’d built up in their minds was a product of bitterness and resentment. Of course it could never be that easy. Barty has always had a quick temper; it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d reacted explosively to a perceived slight. Usually, however, Evan isn’t on this side of it. Usually he’s the one to talk Barty down from whatever tizzy he’s worked himself into along with Regulus and the girls. They’ll commiserate and laugh and compete to come up with the most ridiculous and unnecessary revenge schemes. This time it’s like there’s a fracture that threatens to turn into a chasm and they’re standing on opposite sides. Regulus, Pandora, and Dorcas exist somewhere in the middle, in danger of being swallowed whole if Evan can’t mend the break.
He’s not even entirely sure if it’s his to fix. Part of him feels like Barty needs to get over whatever petty rivalry he’s got going on and just spend some time with James. Then he’d see that there’s no competition and, in fact, they can all be one big group of friends. That’s wishful thinking.
A fantasy.
The day after the potions incident, Barty had found him at breakfast. It had been the most awkward interactions the two of them had had, maybe ever. It had taken Barty a solid thirty seconds before he said anything. When he finally did, what came out was a stilted apology. While not entirely insincere, Barty had looked uncomfortable throughout the whole thing, like it was painful to push the words out.
Evan had accepted it, he’d told Barty he’d already been forgiven. And that was true. Is true. He’d hidden away from his housemates after he’d all but stormed out of the dungeons. His stomach had all but turned itself inside out and his heart was pounding away in his ears. His throat was dry and blocked by something cold and unyielding. It wasn’t until he’d been tugged to a stop in some unused corridor a floor or two up from the dungeons that he’d realized what he’d done. Barty’s claims about James were entirely untrue, made up so they wouldn’t feel so bad for not being graced with his warmth. Even then he’d felt the vicious jealousy every time he saw James and his friends make a mockery of the school rulebook. There, with James James gently taking his bag from him, guiding him down so he could sit against the wall, he realized that he’d made a choice and abandoned his friends. The fear that he felt at the prospect of returning to his father’s house had made him selfish.
“Hey- hey,” James’s voice was just barely audible under the blood rushing in his head. “You’re not selfish for wanting a home that doesn’t cause you pain.”
And isn’t that novel. In the days succeeding that afternoon, he’d turned those words around in his head over and over again. He’d laid awake in his bed with the curtains drawn tightly, mulling over what should have been obvious. And perhaps it was to anyone looking in from outside. In the dark, by himself, he decided that James was right. Wanting did not make him selfish.
Acting on it did.
***
Following that revelation, Evan had tried to pull away from James; he’d thought he could assuage his guilt if he could prove to his friends –and to himself– that he hadn’t chosen one over the other. Maybe he could show them that they could all choose a different path; he could try to do for them what James had done for him. Of course nothing could ever be so easy.
Barty –and to an extent– Regulus were both acting odd around him. Like they expected rogue Gryffindors to jump out at them from around every corner or suit of armor. Regulus at least had the decency to be subtle about it, but it’s hard to miss his wandering eyes.
Now, he’s avoiding everyone. A month and a half into term, and Evan has become a recluse. Sure, it’s depressing and he misses the easy camaraderie he’d had with Barty and Regulus and the sense of brotherhood h. started to build with James, but it’s easier. And perhaps it’s what he deserves.
He’s making a failed attempt at his transfiguration essay in what he thought was an unknown alcove when he’s finally confronted about his self-inflicted isolation.
“How do you think he knows where he is?”
“I don’t know, but at this point I’ll take whatever lead we’re given. Someone has to knock some sense into him. I can’t stand this disappearing act he’s doing, no one else reads muggle literature and I’m desperate to hear his thoughts.”
Evan shuts his book, sighing as he waits for Pandora and Dorcas to come around the corner into his hideaway. If it were anyone else, he’d maybe care about how pathetic he probably looks, surrounded by the entire contents of his school bag, dark circles under his eyes and hair that has not been cared for to its usual standard. Perhaps he’s too drained to care regardless of who found him like this, but Dorcas and Pandora have proven to be nonjudgmental to his episodes of self loathing and destruction. This might be his worst yet, but he knows there won’t be any false pity or condescension.
Pandora makes her appearance first, practically skipping before hoisting herself up to join Evan on his ledge. She doesn’t say anything which he’s grateful for as she starts gathering his things into neat piles so there’s room for all three of them. It’s one of the things he admires the most about her. Her innate instinct to perfectly understand what’s needed in any given moment. Most people think she lives with her head in the clouds, they throw around the word ‘changeling’ as if that’s not mostly a myth even in the wizarding world. Never once has she reacted to their whispering; only staring with eyes that look like they know too much. Evan loves her like a sister. She’s even said, once, that in another life they were twins and that’s why they get on so well in this one.
Dorcas is only trailing Pandora by a pace or two and makes short work of taking her place that’s been cleared for her. She passes an assessing gaze over Evan, taking in the full scene before her. Evan meets her gentle eyes silently giving her very little to work with, though he knows she sees right through the mask he’s tried to put on. Dorcas has never once coddled anyone. She’s rather frank in her approach to most things, she won’t lie unnecessarily but she’s not cruel. Dorcas doesn’t have a single harsh bone in her body and will always be there to support her friends when they need it. Her strength may be the kind that’s soft, but only a fool would take her grace for weakness.
If he’d gotten to choose which of his friends found him like this, he thinks he’d have definitely chosen these two.
“I think the castle likes you,” Pandora says after a moment. “Most people aren’t as good at finding its secrets.”
“Most people just aren’t observant enough to know where to look,” Evan shoots back. Though she might have a point, he does seem to have an unusually easy time traversing the halls of Hogwarts. He’s never once been left stranded by the staircases and when he’s running late,he tends to stumble upon the perfect short cut.
Pandora hums in acknowledgment, running her hand along the stone wall, tracing the ridges and cracks in a just barely indiscernible pattern. “It makes you rather difficult to find. I think Dorcas and I were sent in circles before it allowed us to find you. And we’d even been told where to look.”
“If we’d been looking for anyone else I think I’d have given up the third time the stairs brought us back to the loo.” Evan can’t help but laugh, Dorcas has been in a feud with the stairs since second year. She glares at him, but she can’t quite keep from cracking a smile. Everything feels so normal for the first time all year, like he’s taking his first full breath in weeks and it’s allowing a surge of emotion past the dam he’s so carefully built. Dorcas reaches across to take his hand, providing an unwavering pressure, Pandora moves so she’s pressed firmly against his side. Evan can’t help but lean into the support.
“Barty’s being an idiot. He’s getting all worked up over things that aren’t his business and he’s making it your problem.” Dorcas’s words are direct and they press almost uncomfortably on his sore emotions, like rolling out a sore muscle after a tough quidditch practice.
“He’s scared of you.” Pandora sounds like she’s been given this information by the air itself, and for all Evan knows, she has. Usually, he takes her words as they are and accepts them as truth, or a portion of the truth that has yet to be solidified. This is the first time his knee jerk reaction is adamant denial. “You don’t believe me now.”
“There’s just no way that Barty could ever be scared of me.” The thought of Barty being scared of anyone is quite simply ridiculous, let alone Evan.
“Honestly, I see it. It’s kinda like when you have a crush on someone and you’re so aware of yourself around them. He’s not necessarily scared of you, but of your potential disapproval.” Dorcas has never made less sense in her life. If he didn’t know them so well, he’d be concerned they were polyjuiced.
Evan shakes his head “Are you sure you two haven’t been confunded? Barty isn’t scared of me and he most definitely does not have a crush on me-”
“I never said he has a crush on you, just that he’s acting like he does-”
“Regardless! He just can’t get over that I’m friends with James now, which quite frankly is perfectly reasonable because if the tables were turned I’m sure I’d be losing it too!” He’s not sure why he’s so resistant to their input, normally he’d at least humor their perspective. This whole situation feels like it’s spinning out of control. Barty and Regulus don’t even know that he’s been all but adopted by the Potters and as more time passes the thought of telling them becomes all the more daunting. All of a sudden he’s filled with restless energy. He needs to move, to get out of this conversation. The comfort that Dorcas and Pandora brought with them, their oasis of normalcy, has dried up. With all the grace of a caffeinated Cornish Pixie, he starts gathering his things and shoving them into his bag. It takes several tries to make his books fit, his hands are shaking too badly and his vision is tunneling slightly.
“Wait, I was kidding- mostly.” Dorcas is a shockingly bad liar. “You don’t need to leave, we’re sorry for intruding.” If he doesn’t get out of here right now, he’s afraid he’ll vibrate out of his skin.
“Evan, you need to breathe. Slow down, It’s really not that bad.” It’s a testament to how really quite terrible it is that Pandora sounds so anxious and unsure. He can tell they’re both trying for damage control, and he appreciates the effort, truly, but it’s all too much all at once.
He runs.