#kingslius

When Pandora died, Xenophilius didn’t react in the way that people thought he would. When describing him, it was impossible to leave out how eccentric he was, and it bled through to his emotions. By no means was he overly emotional, but he certainly didn’t subscribe to the idea that men needed to be made of stone. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t help but doing th epolar opposite at the funeral. In all honesty, he wasn’t entirely sure what to feel. He’d loved this woman with all of his heart. She didn’t care that he sang to his plants or if he danced barefoot in the garden on the weekends, and she never batted an eyelid when he kept troll spit in the fridge beside the milk. She was his and he was absolutely hers, and then one day, she was gone. That was the only day he’d ever worn all black. He’d tried to smile for Luna’s sake, but he couldn’t keep it up. He didn’t quite remember when he took himself away from everyone celebrating Pandora’s life in the living room, but before he knew it, the sun was coming up and he’d been sat in the garden, crosslegged behind a rosebush the entire time. Kingsley’s sudden presence almost made him flinch in surprise. He’d have loved to return the soft smile, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead he found himself just staring up at the man, stoic as he had been the entire day. The last thing Kingsley wanted was to give him ‘that look’. It wasn’t fair. Most people hated sympathy and the puppy dog eyes wouldn’t help anyone, so instead he took a seat beside the other man and pulled in a deep breath. Xeno made a mental note to remember the usual scene. The stunning shades of deep blue that seemed to swirl over the fabric of Kingsley’s waistcoat didn’t seem right being so close to the ground, and yet…

“That was a beautiful service, Xen.”

“Thank you, Kingsley.”

A moment of silence passed and then he spoke again.

“It’s peaceful out here.”

“I come here when the Wrackspurt’s start buzzing around.”

“Am I interrupting?”

“Hm? Oh, no. I think you might have frightened it away.”

It’d be a lie if Kingsley were to say that he understood absolutely everything Xenophilius ever said, but understand them or not, he certainly enjoyed them. The corners of his mouth turned up in a way that he hoped wasn’t too patronising, and with a soft grunt he pressed the palm of one hand into the grass to push himself back up to his feet. 

“Come on. You should get some rest.”

“But Luna -“

“Is asleep. Tucked in safe and sound.”

“Oh…well the house is -“

“Clean and tidy. Kettle charmed to stay hot.”

“Kingsley…”

There it was. Those fabled emotions that Xenophilius was known for. Over the years, the two hadn’t exactly been the best of friends, but things change. When The Order was formed, it seemed as though the children that’d all gone to school together had stopped existing and had been replaced with adults. If adulthood was having to bury the people you loved, Xeno wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. Begrudgingly, he gracefully eased himself up to his feet. Soles pressing into the soft grass as he guided himself up without the use of his hands. 

“Since the kettle is already ready, would you like some tea?”

Kingsley had learnt from experience to never agree to a cup of tea offered to him by Xenophilius Lovegood, but in this case, he’d politely nod and follow the man inside. It was Luna who first realised that the two had been spending more and more time together. She’d bought her dinner plate over to the kitchen, pausing to look over at Kingsley who was in the midst of preparing desert.

“I think it’s nice that you make daddy happy.”

For a moment, the man hadn’t been entirely sure what to say and when he’d lifted his eyes to find Xenophilius for some sort of help, the man was nowhere to be seen. He was good at that. Just slipping away without anyone noticing. It really was a talent. An infuriating talent. 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“No, I’m not I just…did he…say something?”

“He didn’t have to. Everything smells yellow when you’re around. That’s his favourite colour. He’s happy. With you.”

Almost as if he were summoned, the sound of Xeno’s bare feet sounded in the room. Half of the long wavy blonde locks pulled up into a bun at the top of his head, held in place by his wand. In one swift motion, he’d pulled the length of wood out of his hair, letting his hair fall about his shoulders, and charmed the record player to fill the space with an upbeat vinyl. Before Kingsley had a moment to gauge what was happening, Luna had skipped across the room and the two were dancing around each other. It really was a sight to see. Luna would bow, Xeno would curtsey and crouch low enough for her to be able to twirl him. It was hardly graceful, but Kingsley couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

“Come and dance with us!”

“Kingsley does not dance, sweetheart.”

“Now, hold on. I can dance.”

“You absolutely can not.”

“I can, thank you very much.”

That was an absolute lie, and the second the words came out of his mouth, he knew it’d been a mistake. That being said, if there was anything that Kingsley was not, it was a man who went back on his word. So he forced aside the sensation of his stomach falling into his polished boots and stepped forward to try and mimic what he thought seemed like an appropriate way to dance. Needless to say, it was hardly his best work. Luna was giggling into her hands, and Xeno swayed his hips watching in the hopes that Kingsley might eventually find the rhythm. No such luck.

“You look like you have had a run-in with a Heliopath.”

“Well I thought I was doing quite well. Luna?”

In turn Luna snorted out another laugh, head dipping forward and sending a few strands of her pale blonde hair into her eyes. Xeno set the wand down, stepping in closely and bringing his hands up to rest on Kingsley’s waist. When the next song started, he felt tender hands guide his hips to the beat of the music. His eyes instinctively lowered to the grip, but when he lifted them again, he was caught by the bright eyes lingering on his own.

“Like this?”

“Much better. Is it not, Luna?”