be not afraid of greatness

“Actually it was Haggis… covered in cockroach clusters. Sorry about that.”

He stared at him. “It was...” Dylan waved it off. “Nope, nevermind.” He pulled a face and went to get water. “Remind me not to let her cater the wedding.”

“Honestly, I can’t let you go through with this.” 

“What - not let your wife feed me? I don’t see the problem.” Dylan stopped, realizing who his wife was, and looked at his former professor. “Oh, God. What was this, like fried nargles or something? She wouldn’t do that, would she.”

Nikolai buried his face in his hands before looking at the other boy. “I had orders,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done them. I should’ve said no, or not even went to Diagon Alley that night. I hurt people. I hurt Aria and then Lottie found out. I could’ve hurt you.”

Dylan let out a breath and let his head drop back, staring at the white wall of the hospital room. “You wouldn’t have,” he said, after a moment of silence passed between them. “I know you, Nik. You wouldn’t have hurt me.”

“Look I’m concussed too you butt,” she replied. “Anything that comes from my mouth is probably going to sound stupid.

“And that would be different than any other day....how?”

“I tried to say something nice and this is what happens? I’ll go back to not trying then.”

“I’m glad you weren’t the first person I saw when I woke up. I would have thought I’d died and gone to hell.” He stopped and looked at him, before saying, dryly. “God, I actually did die, didn’t I? You just tried to say something nice to me, I’m here. Hell froze over.”

Nikolai snorted, “I’m not calling you either of those things,” he said. He was silent for a moment, wondering how to reply to Dylan. He bit down on his bottom lip, “This was the worst New Years ever.”

Dylan smirked, tilting his head to look at him. “Why? Could’ve made me feel better, baby, and now you’re denying me of that.”

“Pal was too awful. And I was not calling you bro,” Nikolai laughed. He frowned thinking of Lottie’s words. Even though he didn’t do anything, he was still with people who did that to Dylan and Nova. Nikolai felt sick. He laughed a weak laugh. “They just want to make sure you’re all good.”

Nikolai sat down in the chair next to Dylan, “I didn’t get hurt.”

“His royal highness or baby would have sufficed,” he said, tilting his head to the side with a smirk. The smile on his face disappeared again at Nik’s answer. He let a moment pass between them, before saying, “That’s not what I asked you.”

Finally being discharged after a days rest, Xavier stepped forwards in the canteen queue, Dylan beside him. “How is Nova?” Xavier questioned, knowing from the past how must this effected her. He himself had been caught up in a duel, managing to get a minor scrape across his eye. The only reason he was in hospital was to make sure it wasn’t going to effect his eyesight. “Luckily enough everything still works,” he added, motioning to the damage.

@hisroyal-hotness

Dylan shrugged at his question. “She was pretty shaken up. Understandable given what she’s gone through,” he sighed and looked at him. “But that’s good, though. Could have lost your eye or something,” he smirked. “At least this cut on my head won’t scar, I asked seven times.”

Nikolai felt as though there was a dark cloud following him around, making everything dull and muted around him. He walked through St. Mungo’s, trying not to think about the other night and how terrible everything was. Visiting Dylan was a good distraction from that. He leaned against the doorway to his room, knocking gently. “Heard you got banged up, buddy,” he said with a smile before walking in. “Hi.”

@hisroyal-hotness

“Buddy?” He glanced up at him as he walked in, a half-smirk on his face. “Eh, I’ve had way worse. Ri’s sister got the most of it. For some reason they insist I stay in here for tests to make sure I didn’t get any spell damage? I didn’t get hit with anything.” Dylan tossed his phone aside. “The protocol is ridiculous.”

Royce frowned as Pickles walked past him into the room, following him with a pout. “That’s not how we rehearsed it.” He grumbled, scratching the goat on the head as he passed, before untying the balloon and moving it to the side of Dylan’s bed. “You say that like it’s hard.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes before sitting on the edge of his bed. “On your little bundle of joy. Sharp shooting, tiger.” He smirked, winking at him.

“I’m concussed. Of course it’s hard. I...” Dylan set his jaw at the next thing he said, giving him a look. “You fucking dick.” He huffed and glared at him. “Why am I always the pregnant one? Why can’t Orion be the pregnant one ever? I don’t get why I always have to be the one that got knocked up. I don’t...-” Dylan trailed off when Pickles trotted up to the bed, and he gave a look. “Okay, once again I ask - how the fuck did you get a goat into the hospital?”

Royce checked the note he’d jotted down earlier when he’d called the hospital, looking for where they had Dylan. He tugged lightly on the leash looped loosely around his arm, batting the balloon away from him as Pickles shuffled forward. He reached the room in question, signaling to the goat to stay still and peeking his head around the corner. “Pssst.” He whispered when he noticed Dylan was awake.

@hisroyal-hotness

Whatever potions they’d given him had run their course by the time he heard footsteps nearing his room. Dylan knitted his eyebrows together and stared at the door in confusion because he could have sworn he heard what sounded like hooves coming down the hall. “What the...” He stopped when he saw Royce appear, Pickles behind him. “Okay, I know I’m not still this drugged up - how the actual fuck did you get a goat into the hospital.” Dylan gave Royce a look when he saw the balloon. “Congratulations on what?”

It all happened so quick, the death eater, Dylan casting the curse, the shelves and the wall, then she was on the floor. She let out a slight groan in pain, rolling from her back to her side to face Dylan. She nodded slightly. When he apparated them to St. Mungo’s, the sheer feeling of apparating was too much. She ran to the nearest bin and emptied the contents of her stomach. She brought her hand up to the side of her head, feeling a slight touch of blood, now she understood, the pounding in her head. There was pain in her wrist from where she must have fell. She looked over to Dylan. “Are you alright?”

Dylan honestly wasn’t sure if he could apparate them or not, so when he was met with the blinding white lights of one of the waiting rooms, he let out a sigh of relief. He barely registered what Nova was saying, blood on his own hand, but he wasn’t sure if it was from her or him. “I think so...”

Gianna paused in her work, glaring at him. “Were you here for something other than to make my life more difficult?”

“I literally just walked in here and you jumped down my throat, so no.”

Nova felt a small sense of relief when they were in the seemingly vacant shop, but her hands were still shaking. She let out a shaky breath, her throat constricting just at the mere thought of everything. All she could think of was being stuck in that damn room in the dark. Calm down. Calm down! She pressed the palms for her hands to her eyes trailing them up through her hair, tears running down her face, her wand still secure in her hand. “Dammit,” she swore, that rare for her. It shouldn’t be this hard. Nova focused her eyes on Dylan when he spoke. “When will I be?” she replied.

She took another breath. That’s when she heard the noise, it came from the corner the room. Nova turned quickly, her slight sense of relief that was ever there when they entered the building disappeared the minute she saw the death eater stepping from the shadows, wand raised.

He sighed and moved his arm around her. “You will be soon. With what you went through, no one should expect you to be now, Nov.” Dylan opened his mouth to say something else, but stopped when he heard a noise coming from behind them. He instinctively moved his arm in front of Nova, pushing her behind him as he reached for his wand. Dylan had barely raised it when the light reflected off of the Death Eater’s mask, a curse falling from his lip. He grabbed Nova and for the second time, fell back as what sounded like various shelves and parts of the wall fell around them. “Nova,” Dylan winced when a pain coursed through him as he moved over to her. “Nova,” he said again, hearing footsteps near them. He cast a spell in the general direction. “I’m gonna try and apparate us, okay?”

Daisy furrowed her eyebrows and scratched at the back of her head. “I mean, you’re right, the whole thing doesn’t make any sense. And this is supposed to be like, some sort of loyalty measure, right?” She pursed her lips, “Do you think he’s just expecting you to fail?”

Daisy huffed, “That’s tempting. Who knows if they have ties to any actual Death Eaters. I mean, what f they’re just a bunch of kids who want to rebel against something and are just being fueled by the Crimson Allies.” She frowned. “Except Zabini. I think he’s actually evil. If he’s not a Death Eater now, I think he will be one soon.” She raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, shok apparent on her face. “You spoke to one? And he tried to use the attack by the Allies as fuel for your decision? Amazing…” She shook her head, “We don’t know, but if they’re not doing anything, why would they be so secretive? Why would they ask you to get a list of our members? I mean, it seems like we’re the enemy to them, and we have no ties to the Crimson Allies or to Harry, aside from Al and them.” She frowned, bringing her hands up to rub at her temples. “Bloody hell, I need a drink.”

“Him and Krum,” Dylan said. “At Durmstrang, he was involved in some pretty fucked up stuff. And Zabini is definitely no angel, I just question how much of this is actually tied to actual Death Eaters.” He nodded as he got up and started to the kitchen. “I can fix that. I swear, if someone who didn’t know us came over, they’d think we were alcoholics.” He got her a drink, taking one for himself. “I dunno, maybe they have a point.” Dylan leaned against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest “It’s gotten nowhere. After I was attacked, the whole thing was swept under the rug because of my last name, and don’t me it wasn’t why, Dais. I know it was. Like all the pure-blood houses that were vandalized. Nothing came of it because the houses belonged to families who had some ties to Dark Arts in the war. Anything could happen to someone with the name Parkinson, or Lestrange, or Nott, or whoever and nothing will come of it. And sorry, but what’s Al’s Dad actually doing but giving no comment for everything shot at him?”