Work Text:
“Dark wizards feel exhilarated when performing curses, can you believe that?” Ratio exclaimed next to him, astounded. Aventurine had given himself permission to invite the Ravenclaw over to Slytherin’s dormitories – as he often did ever since he started attending this school. At first it earned him a few side eyes and even deducted points, but everyone quickly learned that there’s no separating the two of them and, what’s worse, no making Aventurine abide by the rules. In those few years Ratio and Aventurine knew each other, they got close enough to comfortably enjoy merely existing in each other’s presence. Just like how now the Slytherin was leisurely casting random spells into the ceiling while the Ravenclaw read his new book on the bed next to him. “Rather than Azkaban, they need to be sent to a mental asylum, don’t you think?”
Aventurine didn’t entirely know why, but Ratio’s words sounded somewhat funny to him.
“Well, I wasn’t exhilarated when I killed him,” he replied without much thinking, and went back to minding his business.
Something felt off, though. For some reason the silence between them didn't feel comfortable anymore, as if some invisible force inverted the time and turned them into mere strangers again. Aventurine was confused. Did he do something wrong? He cast a careful glance at Ratio.
The Ravenclaw was studying him with something akin to fear in his eyes.
“...Killed him?”
Shit.
“Obliv -” Aventurine started calmly to undo the damage he’d caused, but before he could fully pronounce the spell, Ratio pounced on him, pinning his wand hand to the mattress and covering his mouth shut.
“Obliviate? You know the charm?!” he inquired as Aventurine was trying to wriggle himself out of the Ravenclaw’s grip. It was Aventurine’s turn to be scared.
Because no matter what, he couldn’t let Ratio see that side of him.
The liar. The fraud. The murderer.
But the Ravenclaw looked as if he’d already realised. Aventurine couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes anymore.
“How many times have you cast obliviate on me?”
Aventurine froze.
One hundred thirty-seven was the answer. But he wouldn’t dare to say it out loud.
Quickly. He had to find a way to get out of here. Now.
The first time he had used that spell on Ratio, he panicked. He’d said something about having experience in duels and had no idea how to cover it up, but couldn’t let his only friend suspect anything.
The second time, Ratio had asked him about the tattoo on his neck. Aventurine couldn’t possibly admit it was a commodity code.
After the third time, it had only gone downhill. Aventurine used the charm every time he’d let something slip, and since they got close, that happened more and more often. At this point casting obliviate became as easy as breathing to him. Partially, that might have been the reason why they’d got so close – Aventurine felt at ease, knowing that if he said or did something wrong, he could just erase Ratio’s memories. He was doing that at least once a week by now.
What still stayed with him was the faint fear that one day his friend would start questioning the gaps in his memories. Aventurine wouldn’t know how to explain that to him either. He was also aware that overusing obliviate on a person could have detrimental consequences to their psyche. He didn’t want to ruin such a beautiful mind.
But it was better that way, or so Aventurine convinced himself. Certainly better than truly revealing himself to Ratio.
What was he even supposed to tell him? ‘No, I didn’t actually transfer here from Ilvermorny. I’ve never even set foot in North America. It’s all just a lie created by the Ministry to cover up for the fact that there’s an illegal slave market right under their noses and they’re not doing anything to get rid of it. By the way, I’m here only because I managed to kill my old master before he killed me, and with the curses he taught me himself, how cool is that?’
Aventurine was a lot of things, but he wasn’t naive. He knew Ratio would never even look at him again if he found out.
There was a sudden shift on top of him. Aventurine blinked. He was so lost in thought he didn’t register when his breathing grew so rapid, his free hand started tugging desperately at Ratio’s right arm and his vision became blurry.
But Ratio must’ve noticed, because his expression softened.
And he let go of Aventurine.
The Slytherin was so caught off guard, he didn’t do anything at first. How could he be so foolish as to let go of a murderer…?
“Please just talk to me,” Ratio said quietly, snapping Aventurine out of his awe. “Let me understand you.”
Aventurine opened his mouth. Then closed it. Opened it again, but no words left him this time either.
This wasn’t real. How could Ratio not be mad at him after all he’d just learnt? How was he able to just sit and look at him patiently, and with so much… love, and not fear or disgust?
Maybe he really just wanted to understand? Aventurine would tell him about everything. About all the lives he took unjustly and the one he took rightfully. He could describe to him just how painful cruciatus actually was. He would tell him all about how awful, cruel and heartless the people at the Ministry of Magic truly were, how they made a boy who was just fighting for his life feel like such a burden. And it would break whatever was left of his fragile heart, but he would cry about how he was slowly forgetting what his family even looked like and he’d never get the chance to see them again, because they were all long gone.
And Ratio would be there through all of Aventurine’s story, perhaps even the entire evening, until someone came to kick him out. He would sit there and look at him the same way he did now, and he would listen, and he would understand.
He would even understand why Aventurine toyed with his memories for the past two years.
The Slytherin shuddered at the thought. He would have to be truly foolish to think that Ratio would grace him with such inexhaustible forgiveness.
He looked at his friend, the one who always wore well-maintained robes, bought a new book every week and passed his O.W.L.s with straight Os, and knew that he simply couldn’t understand.
So he raised his hand and cast the spell.
Ratio blinked a few times, took a glance at his book and looked back at Aventurine, awaiting his answer.
“Yeah, totally,” he replied, feigning boredom. The Ravenclaw just nodded and went back to his reading.
Aventurine swallowed with effort. If it was for the best then why did it feel so wrong?
“I need to go to the bathroom,” he excused himself and stumbled across the room. Ratio wasn’t even looking at him, but Aventurine still hid his hands in front of himself so the Ravenclaw wouldn’t see how much they were trembling.
After he closed the door, Aventurine let himself slide down to the ground, with the cold stone wall as his only support. He wanted to cry, but he didn’t think he deserved to. After all, he was the bad guy here, wasn’t he?
Instead, he chuckled bitterly. He wasn’t exhilarated when he killed his master, or any of his fellow slaves for that matter; only relieved that he would get to see another day. But he still deserved to be sent to that mental asylum way more than any dark wizard Ratio read about. At least if he was locked up there, he wouldn’t have a chance to hurt his friends like that.
Another chuckle. As if they were friends. Ratio hardly knew him at all.
They really were mere strangers.