Twinkle Twinkle

Toby didn't bother to answer Frank's question, instead pretending that bandaging the other teen's arm needed all of his attention. Toby's large hands were careful, just now realizing that he may have been holding onto his housemate just a little too tight before. Toby often had that problem, being a little rougher than he should with others. It was good that he had something to devote his attention to now, as the werewolf had no idea what he would say. Why, indeed.

Perhaps it had been Toby's instincts of caring for the injured kicking in, for the boy refused to call it mother-henning even in his own head. Perhaps it had been that look in his housemates eyes, the look that made Toby feel as though the other boy was so much younger than himself even though they were in the same year. Perhaps it had been because Toby would never forgive himself if infection set into the wound after he had been the reason Frank had removed his old bandage in the first place. Or maybe, maybe it was because Toby was painfully attracted to the dormmate he barely knew. In truth, all of these played their part, if the last more significantly so than the others then no one but Toby himself was to know.

"Yah, good day for a jog through the forest," Toby agreed, completely forgetting that the saner students stayed away from the woods due to it being forbidden, and for good reason. Wound neatly bandaged with just enough compression to help prevent further bleeding and hopefully lessen pain, Toby shifted so he was no longer hovering over the other Gryffindor.

"This is good," the blond said upon looking at the picture, words slipping out without a thought like most things Toby spoke, "I could never get the stars the right space apart, whenever I had to map these things." It was almost, dare he think it, cute that Frank was sitting in the Astronomy tower late at night, drawing constellations in his pajamas.

It grated on Frank’s churlish Gryffindor temper that the other teenager did not venture to provide him with an answer that many would so readily give the Longbottom boy with a quip in regards to them feeling sorry for how ‘stupid’ he was. Frank bristled at the thought that Toby might feel the same and it made him fuss and pull a bit, complaining in an undertone that Toby was hurting him when, really, they both knew he wasn’t. It was shame more than anything else. It was always shame. There was something unique about Toby Cooper. Everyone with half a brain knew that. Frank couldn’t confess he knew what he was. He couldn’t even say he really cared in the sense that it would change the innocuous, even non-existent, opinion he had of the other Gryffindor. This did though. This moment of tenderness, whether Frank realised it or not, changed everything.

“I’m too scared to go in there,” Frank admitted shyly, thinking about his own route that did stray near the forest but he wasn’t brave enough to go in. Too many stories told by his Uncle Ron about spiders had left him feeling like that he was possibly better off staying away from the forest. In all honesty, Frank’s first thought was wonderment-based. He couldn’t believe Toby was brave enough to go into the forest all on his own. He never would have himself, as he told the boy. It was only as an afterthought that he considered that there really was a rule against going into the Forbidden Forest – the forbidden did rather give it away. He didn’t stay anything, though, and studiously kept his silence. Nimble fingers or not, there had to be something dangerous about Toby if he could go in there and not be accosted.

“Thank you,” Frank murmured when the blonde was finished. He brought his hand to the fresh bandage and rubbed at it absent-mindedly before looking over at his work in Toby’s hand. He felt a stab of pride surge through him as he was appraised but immediately he coloured up and looked away, shrugging bashfully. “It’s okay,” he replied with an airy sense of satisfaction, the flush in his cheeks wholly indicative of his gladness with Toby’s compliments. He looked up again and opened his mouth, snapping it shut awkwardly, his hands flexing in his lap. “With, um … with that it’s about timings. Sort of. I mean, well …”

Frank lifted his book up and smoothed out some fresh parchment before grabbing for his instrument and his pencil. He placed the instrument to measure down on the page and he made two points before lifting the line away. Then slowly he began to illustrate what he meant, looking up to check the stars nearest to them before plotting them out based on his mid points. Then, after labelling them, Frank turned the page around and smiled shyly at Toby. “See?” he mumbled. “That’s the, um … that’s the idea. What’s your favourite subject?”

"Fair enough," Toby said with a shrug, well aware that the Dark Forest would seem more than a little intimidating to those who hadn't spent years living in one, "I almost got my ankle bitten off a few weeks ago by fanged geranium, almost didn't notice the damn thing." Toby had no idea why he was willingly sharing this particular piece of information, considering that it wasn't exactly something he was proud of.  Toby was pretty decent at herbology, mostly due to his skill at recognizing plants. It would have been terribly embarrassing if the flower had gotten him.

"No problem," the werewolf stated, aiming for nonchalant and probably missing by a good half kilometer. It felt good being able to help someone, to help Frank. No matter how much Toby would deny it, he was a people pleaser through and through. He liked to be liked, and loved to be needed. Bandaging the wound of a cute boy, well, Toby could almost pretend that... No, he wouldn't go down that road. That road was dangerous and Frank almost certainly wouldn't be at all interested. He'd keep everything to himself. For as long as he could, anyway.

The elder Gryffindor watched as his dormmate turned back to his paper, demonstrating how best to draw accurate constellations. A small smile curled upon the corners of Toby's mouth at the look of concentration that had appeared on Frank's face. "That's kind of brilliant," Toby admitted upon examining the page, glancing up at the sky only to find perfect likeness there. If only the blond had been shown this before his exam last year.

"I dropped Astronomy after the OWL's," Toby confided, completely forgetting that Frank probably knew this as they would have been in the same class. Then, remembering that his fellow Gryffindor had asked a question that Toby had yet to answer, the boy responded with, "Charms." He'd always been good at charms, healing charms, cheering charms, charms to change the colour of one's eyebrows, it didn't matter. Though, that hardly should have been a surprising, considering that his mother was such an expert in the subject that she'd taught the subject. "My mum was, uh, was the Charms Professor. You?" Toby added, desperately trying not to think about the fact that she taught at the school no longer. Amelia had abandoned him, running away with his sister to escape the Marriage Law. That was understandable, at least, but then for his mother to stay away once the law was repealed, even after his sister had come home? Toby wasn't gonna lie, that hurt.

Fanged Germaniums were growing in the greenhouses – and to think, Frank had only been giving them fertiliser the other day. Perhaps it was the Flesh Eating Slug problem that they were having at the moment. Frank nibbled on his lower lip, turning it around between his teeth. He released it all of a sudden before leaning towards to look at Toby’s ankle. He couldn’t see anything, mind you, but he felt as if he gleaned something by checking that his ankle was, in fact, still there. Swallowing headily, Frank made the decision not to go down to the forest any time soon. The infant Geraniums were nippy. He’d lost a finger once that had to be regurgitated and put back on but nothing quite like an ankle. Part of Frank felt that was the point when his father began to lose confidence in him.

“I liked your mum,” Frank voiced with a hopeful smile as the conversation changed. “She was really helpful,” he picked absently at his trousers and looked up once more. “I … um. What is she doing now? It’s okay if I’m not meant to ask. I’d tell you the same but since my parents sold the pub, I don’t really know what they do anymore. Dad’s … oh, well … he’s a motivational speaker but my mum’s she … I dunno.” Frank shrugged, bringing his legs up to her chest. “I really only … I mean, I’m only good at Quidditch, really. The rest I’m just sort of … I mean, I like Astronomy I suppose. And Herbology.” He smiled awkwardly, a quick flash upwards of his lips.

“Can I ask you something?” Frank asked hesitantly, lowering his legs again. “You … last year … you weren’t here. Where were you? I mean, it really is okay if you don’t want to tell me – I mean, who am I, right? – but I was just wondering. You’re a nice guy, I wouldn’t like to think anything happened to you. But anyrate, is it better now?” Swallowing again, Frank coloured up. “Actually ignore me. Too personal.” His lips quirked upwards again. He crossed his arms awkwardly.

“Are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend?” He finished on a high.

"Yeah," Toby said softly, "she's good at that." His mum had been very skilled at helping people, ensuring that everyone understood and those who didn't got the attention they needed. She'd always been that way, when she was around. That was probably a little harsh, the teenager supposed, but he was allowed to be a little bitter. His mum had left him, after only having her back for a bit over a year. She hadn't even sent word herself, instead allowing Hallie to relay the message to a heartbroken Toby who had been doing everything in his power not to show his elder sibling how upset the news had made him.

"She left, the whole Marriage Law fiasco, you know? My dad died when I was young, and mum wasn't really all that fond of getting remarried to someone she hadn't met. But I guess she liked it overseas, 'cause she stayed even after the law got taken back," Toby confided. This wasn't the type of thing he'd normally say to someone he didn't know all that well, but Frank had told him about his parents. Quid Quo Pro, or whatever.

"You sure seem pretty good at Astronomy," Toby stated, raising his eyebrows ever so lightly, "and I've seen you play Quidditch. You're more than good. One of the best on the team, I'd say. Wouldn't have pegged you for a beater, but I would not wanna be on a team opposing you." Suddenly loosing steam, Toby continued to speak a little more hesitantly. "I think I know what you mean, a bit, I'm good with charms and healing stuff, other than that," Toby voice turned wry, "anything involving brute strength."

The werewolf smiled grimly, fully aware of how awkward this was about to get. Toby was a little surprised it had taken his dormmates this long. Then again, it wasn't all that suspicious when he disappeared on nights of the full moon. Toby disappeared a lot, after dark, so his housemates probably just noticed his empty bed and though nothing of it. Handy, that.

"No, that's alright, suppose you have something of a right to know," the teenager said, "it was the half-breed rules that sent me packing." Taking a few more steps away from Frank, Toby turned his body a little, as though ready to head towards the staircase.

Twisting his head back just a little, Toby allowed himself a small smile, "course I'm going, it's Hogsmeade," there was a short pause, "you seem like a pretty first-rate bloke too, you know."

“What? Not completely, surely?” But his words were not indicative of return. Toby was resolute, it seemed. His mother had gone. She’d left him. She’d not come home, either. Frank’s stomach turned at the mere thought of it. He didn’t want to imagine Toby alone all summer. “What did you do for Christmas?” He spluttered, voicing his train of thought as horror set into him. He was probably all alone. Frank wanted to seize out and hug him. The Gryffindor was like his mother like that and, really, he knew that it wasn’t something he should be doing. Yet, as though his body was moving of its own accord, he did it anyway.

Before Frank could really stop himself he’d gotten to his feet and thrown his arms around Toby and was hugging him tightly. Only, when he actually realised what he’d done – was doing – he stole away and flushed deeply. He reached up and scratched awkwardly behind his ear as he tried to work out why he’d been so bold. He stuttered out an awkward apology, muttering that it wasn’t something that was probably best for him to do. He flushed brightly. This wasn’t quite what he’d imagined doing. “Sorry,” he added, again.

Frank’s lips twitched when Toby mentioned his skills and he nodded pointing out that, “I’m not … I’m alright at Quidditch. You’re too kind I’m just … y’know … nothing special.” He swallowed. “You’ll have to teach me some of that healing stuff. I mean, only if you want. If you have time. But it’d be nice. Helpful too, I guess,” he gestured to his arm which he rubbed at absent-mindedly. He took a deep breath and puffed out the air again, smiling shyly as he peeked at Toby out from beneath his lashes.

“I hated those rules,” Frank griped, his mouth curling down as his irritation flared. “I mean, for God’s sake it’s not even for a reason like … I mean, there could never be any good reason but just because you’re … I mean … differences are good and should be celebrated not hidden from or rejected it’s absurd!” Frank coloured up again, realising he’d, essentially, gone off on one. “Merlin, I’m sorry. But, um. I’m really glad you’re back. Hogwarts is home, isn’t it?”

“Well, you see …” Frank hedged. “There’s a plan to play some football on the common and … I mean, I’m … I’m captain of one side so I need … well, I need players. I have a few … nearly done now but I was wondering if you’d like to help and maybe come to Hogsmeade with me and play? If you’re not … if you don’t have any other plans, that is,” Frank finished all in a rush.

"That was fine," Toby reassured with a smile. The hug had been totally fine. More than fine, really, as far as Toby was concerned. His only complaint was that it had been so short. Toby had barely had time to register that he was being hugged, and wrap his arms around his housemate in return, before the other boy was pulling away. Then again, perhaps it wasn't a bad thing that the hug hadn't lasted all that long. It really wouldn't do for Toby to get too much more attached than he already was.

"I, uh, spent some of Christmas with some friends, a bit with my sister," the Gryffindor admitted, making a point not to mention the rather large part of the day where he'd been completely alone. He wasn't exactly sure what had made him show up upon the steps of Jack Dyllan's home. After the months he'd stayed with her, she'd told him we was welcome at any time, and he had taken her up on that by popping in for dinner more than once. Still, Christmas had felt like he was crossing some sort of boundary, so he hadn't stayed long.

"Nothing special?" the boy pressed, "You're messing, right? I recon you could go pro one day, if you wanted." Toby may have never played a game of Quidditch in his life, something completely due to the fact he couldn't fly and not out of any lack of interest, but he knew a good player when he saw one. His father had been in love with the game, and taught him well.

"Of course I can teach you healing stuff. Would be happy to. Really, I'm surprised the teachers don't teach us more. It's a basic life skill," Toby stated. It was all a little ridiculous to him. Professors would spend days demonstrating how to best turn a lamp into a turtle, but couldn't set aside a single hour to teach the fundamentals of healing. It was beyond him, it really was.

"Thank you," the werewolf praised, putting as much emotion behind the words as he possibly could. Frank hadn't run away screaming, hadn't so much as scowled or shuddered. Frank didn't even seem to care at all that Toby turned into something that was more likely to tear him limb from limb once a month than have a friendly chat. "I'm gonna hug you, now," the teenager said impulsively, before sweeping the younger wizard into an embrace just as tight as the one he'd received. It didn't last long, just long enough to Toby to recognize that he was completely and utterly screwed, before he broke the hug and stepped away from the other Gryffindor.

"It's been a while since I've played a good game of footie, sounds like a blast," Toby smiled, accepting the invitation with the deep-set knowledge that this night was certainly some kind of turning point for the werewolf. Of what, he would just have to find out.