ғιғтeen
The fireplace remained suspiciously quiet as Callum sat in front of it and scrutinised it carefully.
Harry had written and said that he would be arriving by Floo and Callum was determined to see exactly how and from where he would appear. He refused to blink as he stared intently at the pile of old logs and splinters.
A distant whoosh was heard, and suddenly the fireplace erupted into a burst of emerald flames, which soon disappeared to reveal Harry, covered in dust. He gave a short jerk upon seeing Callum at such close proximity. He moved out of the fireplace before looking at him in annoyance. "Hi," he said shortly.
Callum suddenly began to feel awkward as the memory of their kiss played around in his mind, and he averted his gaze, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Harry smirk. "Funny, you're normally so talkative in your letters."
He scowled and ignored him. "Do you want to go for a walk?" he asked, and Harry nodded. He reached out his hand to grab his. "Four kept whining after you left last week," he said and dragged Harry out of the room to find Four, who was probably hiding under some furniture and wallowing in misery at Harry's absence. "He kept looking for you all the time."
"Hm," Harry hummed, sounding rather nonchalant, "at least someone misses me at Little Whinging."
Callum tilted his head back to look at his face, wanting to say something, but not knowing what. He was taking Harry to the room where he kept his pets, but Four suddenly appeared from another direction and bounded toward them, letting out a series of happy barks. He let go of Harry's hand to allow him to pick the dog up, rolling his eyes as Four left several licks on Harry's face, something he had never done to Callum himself.
"Why didn't you come by Floo before?" he asked as they walked down Magnolia Crescent, Four attached to a leash the other end of which was wrapped in Harry's hand. The streets were quite deserted, Callum noticed with much relief, for he wasn't sure he would have felt comfortable walking with Harry in the midst of a crowd of people, judgemental looks piercing their backs. Harry didn't seem to be too bothered however.
"Mrs Weasley thought it would be rude to do so in a muggle home," he replied. "Especially considering how Mr Weasley nearly destroyed the Dursley's fireplace once. But then that was electric."
"What are the Weasleys like?" he moved so that he faced Harry, walking backwards. Four looked amazed at this feat and tried to do the same himself, but only managed to tangle himself on the leash.
"They are great," Harry answered, rather fondly. "They treat me like their own son."
"They have seven children, you said?"
"Yes, but only two of them are in school currently." He frowned, as though remembering something. He hesitated. "What's your – Thomson is the name given by your foster parents, right?"
"Yeah," he nodded slowly.
"Do you remember what your actual name was?" Harry asked cautiously.
"I do."
"What was it?"
Callum knew why Harry was asking this. He had mentioned, once, something about having a younger brother, and if his parents hadn't left the country out of shame of producing a squib, it was likely that his brother was still attending Hogwarts. Callum hadn't really considered this possibility before, but now a sudden nervousness had taken over him at the idea. It was very likely that Harry knew his brother. He swallowed.
"I'd rather not say." And he moved to get into step beside Harry once again, not having the desire to see the pitiful look that had formed on his face.
"Your brother –"
"Is more than likely ashamed of me," he interrupted, sharply, bringing Harry to stop talking. He sighed, and closed his eyes, rubbing the back of his hand over his forehead.
"You don't know that."
"My parents left me in an orphanage when he was four," he said, not sounding angry anymore. Instead, an unexpected tiredness has taken over his tone. "He obviously remembered me so they couldn't pretend I didn't exist. They probably preached to him what a disgrace I was to the family and how I didn't deserve to associate with him." Harry opened his mouth to protest but Callum stopped. "Please Harry, leave it be. I don't want you to get tangled in my mess."
They stayed silent until they finally reached the park, the dry ground rippling in places with the heat. Four began to leap and pull on the lash, demanding to be let go. Harry looked at Callum, who gave him a nod and he released his hold on the dog. Callum walked over and climbed up to stand on the swing, holding the chains with both hands to keep himself steady while he swung it slowly. Harry played with Four.
"I state," Callum looked down as Harry came and stood in front of him a few minutes later, a faint smirk on his lips "that Callum is upset."
He snorted loudly. "I state that Callum is fine now." Harry smiled, and after he moved aside, raised himself to stand beside him. None spoke, and simply watched Four eating and spitting out grass in a never ending cycle of foolishness. "Harry?" he asked quietly a while later. "Does this feel wrong to you?"
A tiny frown found its way to Harry's face, and he turned to face Callum. He did the same too, so that they were facing each other, backs leaned uncomfortably against the chains that held the swing, and hands curved awkwardly behind their backs to hold on to the support. Their feet touched. "Does what feel wrong to me?"
Callum bit down on his lip, refusing to meet his eyes. "This. Us. Kissing."
"We kissed only once."
"Yes," he sighed tiredly. "But we are both boys and –" his voice trailed away, leaving a very obvious and pressing question hanging in the air. He continued to stare at their feet. From the distance, he heard Four's excited barks; presumably he had caught something he had been chasing for quite a while now.
He felt a hand come to hold the side of his face, pushing his head up. He finally looked at Harry, noticing, for the first time, the warm green colour of his eyes through his slightly blurred glasses, which sat skewed on his nose. He noticed too, his thin eyebrows which were partially covered by his hair, a mess as usual, and simultaneously, both their hands let go of the chains behind them and came up to encompass each other. Callum's fingers went to Harry's hair, pushing it out of his face.
It was Harry who took the initiative this time. If Callum had felt uncertain about kissing him, least of all in a public place, naked to the eyes of passing pedestrians, he didn't feel it anymore. Their eyes fluttered shut, and both were so engrossed in what they were doing, that they completely neglected the fact that they were standing on a swing.
Four, who had somehow found the idea of standing on a swing very fascinating, decided to do the same too. He leapt to his feet and attempted to stand between the two pairs of legs that took up most of the surface, and had to scramble to find a place for himself. The swing swung sideways at his weight, and the two boys who were completely unbalanced and unsupported with their hands tangled with each other, ended up falling to the ground, making contact with a loud thud and a series of groans. Callum, who had put most of his weight on Harry, found himself sprawled on the ground, a sharp pain shooting through his arm from where he had fallen on his elbow. Harry was on his knees, trying to help him up while simultaneously keeping himself from laughing.
It was only when Callum was on his feet did he realise what he had done. As Harry tried to steady him, he pushed him away, eyes widening in horrific realisation. "Oh," he muttered, closing his eyes and pressing his palms over them. "Oh, what have I done? I shouldn't have kissed you. Someone could have seen us."
Harry was silent. He gathered up Four's leash and began to lead him out of the park. Callum stood still for a moment before following him.
"No one saw us, Callum, don't fret," said Harry, face unusually impassive.
"But what if someone had come?" he asked, taking a few large steps to come beside Harry, who was walking fast. "Someone could have come. Your cousin already suspects –"
"Dudley?" Harry whipped his head around, voice sharp. "What do you mean he suspects? Did he tell you something?"
"I – I came across him one time," Callum said hesitantly. "He called me a – uh – faggot."
When Harry didn't reply, he looked up to gaze at him. A deep frown had formed on his face, and Callum was suddenly overcome by the urge to place his hands on his cheeks. He shoved his hands inside his pockets and looked away.
"But he couldn't have," said Harry confusedly. "We never – he didn't see us anytime, did he?"
"No, no," Callum shook his head. "He said that sometime during last Christmas break. Even before we – well – you know."
Harry stared down, the worried look still plastered on his face. Suddenly his head wheeled around to face Callum. "Wait, he called you a faggot?" He sounded furious.
Despite himself, Callum laughed. "Yes, Harry, that's what I said." Harry remained still for a moment, before swiftly turning on his heels, more than likely to head to Privet Drive. Callum hastily grabbed him by the shoulders to restrain him. "Relax, Harry. It's unlikely he'll say any such thing again, seeing how I had scared him off."
Harry stilled at this, looking at him with confusion. He shrugged his hands off his shoulders and peered at him in a scrutinising frown. "You scared him off?"
"He didn't expect me to know about wizards," he explained with a chuckle, "so that did half the job. But then I said I was a squib, and he practically ran for the hills. He didn't even wait for me to explain what a squib was."
The concern washed off from Harry's face, and was replaced with a smile. "I'm glad he didn't punch you."
Callum laughed before placing his arm over his shoulders to lead him home. "Me too."
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