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Bows and Wands

Summary:

Alastor Moody had no idea what he was letting himself in for when he adopted his two young nephews. Follow Clint from arriving in England until he graduates Hogwarts, mostly unscathed.

Notes:

Originally written on Fanfiction.net, reposted and rewritten here.

Chapter 1: Prologue

Chapter Text

27th June 1973- Barney: 12, Clint: 9

 

Alastor Moody was many things; an Auror, an old-blood, a duellist of considerable skill, scion of House Moody, etc. He was not qualified for this. But here he was, with his two nephews. Mentally he removed 'brother' from his list of qualification and added 'guardian'. It was his own fault. He'd agreed to be the lads' godfather back when they were born. Of course, he hadn't expected to actually need to look after them.

*

This was why he was waiting at the airport, watching the arrivals board. He and the rest of the Moody family had decided it would be too hard on the boys to make them Apparate across the Atlantic Ocean. Phil, Edith's Muggle-born schoolfriend, had offered to organise flights for them. Hence why Alastor was stuck here, watching a board. The flight from Iowa was landing. Then he saw them. Barney was the oldest he remembered, all long limbs and hair as red as a Weasley. Clint was clinging to his hand. He looked like Alastor's younger brothers had at that age, with messy sandy hair.

"Hello lads. I don't know if you'd remember me-"

"You're Uncle Alastor." said Barney. "You came over when Clint was born."

Alastor nodded. "That's me. Come on, I'll take you home."

The drive back was mostly silent. After all, what did you say to a boy who'd seen his mother murdered? He did bring up transferring to Hogwarts, to spare Barney being an ocean away from his brother. Barney had little enough to say, only that he'd miss being in Wampus. Clint asked if there was food at the house.

Alastor wished he'd thought to tidy before picking the boys up. His papers on his latest case were sprawled across the kitchen table while the breakfast pots were still in the sink.

"I ah- sorry for the mess."

Barney shrugged, putting the suitcase by the stairs.

"I don't mind."

Clint had disappeared into the living room. His voice came floating out.

"Your mirror's broken."

"It's a Foe-Glass," explained Alastor, "lets me keep an eye on my enemies. The closer they are, the clearer they are. I'm only in trouble if I see the whites of their eyes."

Clint reappeared from the living room, holding a Sneakoscope. Once Alastor had finished explaining what that did, he offered to show them their rooms. There was the big one at the front, overlooking the street and the smallest one next to the bathroom. Unsurprisingly, both boys wanted the big room. Alastor volunteered to move from his room, the one furthest from the stairs, into the smallest room. The argument over the bigger room lasted over lunch, going to the local park, dinner, and chasing a tabby cat down the street. Apparently whoever caught it would gain the big room. The cat escaped by hiding under a car.

"I should get the room." insisted Clint as they arrived at their driveway. "I need room to grow."

"Moron." muttered Barney.

"I heard that!"

Alastor lifted his hand. Both boys flinched as one. Alastor lowered his hand slowly. No sudden movements.

"Why don't we flip a coin to decide?"

Clint nodded. "Can I flip it?"

"I'll flip, I'm neutral."

So Alastor did, as Clint called for tails. Alastor revealed the dragon snarling on the coin and Clint scowled. Barney punched the air triumphantly before ruffling Clint's hair. Clint batted his hand away, scowl deepening. Eager to prevent the Second Wizarding War from starting in the driveway, Alastor herded them inside and pushed them into the living room while he moved their bags.

"Where's your broom Barney?"

"Don't have one, Dad didn't agree with me flying."

Once the clothes from the suitcase were divided between the boys' rooms, Alastor lugged their backpacks upstairs and left the rest for them to unpack. Downstairs, over hot chocolate, he convinced the boys to talk about decorating ideas.

 

Chapter 2: Barney's Sorting

Chapter Text

1st September 1973- Barney: 13 Clint: 9

 

Ever since Barney had first gone to Ilvermony, he’d woken up with a sense of dread at the prospect of going to school. He enjoyed the learning itself and he definitely enjoyed being away from home. But he’d always had guilt nagging at him at the thought of leaving Clint with their father.

Today was different. Excitement and nerves warred in his stomach, leaving very little room for guilt. Clint would be safe, surrounded by Moody family members and some of the less unsavoury Bartons. Not that there were many left. And Clint’s nightmares were finally starting to ease off once it had sunk in that their father was imprisoned. It was Barney who still dreamed about their mother.

They Apparated to King’s Cross, in time to meet Uncle Douglas and their cousins at one of the cafes. Two of their cousins anyway. The others had either graduated or disappeared to a different part of the station. Jason was pale. Barney dropped into the empty chair next to Jem.

“You’ve got a fan.” observed Barney.

Jem grinned. Krista, his six-year-old sister, was sat on his lap trying to play with him. Her choice of game appeared to be driving toy cars over various areas of her brother’s body.

“I don’t play with toys any more though.”

 “Did you ever?” replied Barney before liberating Jem.

He produced his toy dragon, a birthday present from another cousin, and encouraged Krista to try and catch it. It was too nimble for him though, performing acrobatic feats Barney was sure real dragons couldn’t do. It did occasionally land on Barney’s shoulder. Krista would then bring her hand down, hoping speed would help her. It didn’t. The dragon would launch off Barney’s shoulder and Krista’s hand would come ringing down on Barney. Jem seemed it find it highly amusing.

“Alright Jason?”

“Jem won’t tell me what the Sorting really is. He says you have to fight a dragon.”

Jem looked delighted by the panic in their younger cousin’s voice. Barney grimaced. He had to be Sorted too, even though he was going to be a third year. Hopefully it would be as simple as Ilvermony, standing in a circle with the House symbol lighting up. Clint took Krista off Barney and sat on a different table with her. Uncle Alastor sat with the pair of them. Uncle Douglas seemed unconcerned by his daughter’s removal to a different table and stayed with his son and nephews. When Uncle Douglas had finished his coffee, they headed to Platform 9 3/4. It was busier than Barney had expected, and louder.

“Now, remember lad,” said Uncle Alastor, “don’t start fights.”

“I won’t.”

“But if you do get in a fight, win.” added Uncle Douglas.

Barney saluted. “Yessir.”

Uncle Douglas laughed and ruffled his hair. Clint wrapped his arms around Barney, almost squeezing the breath out of him.

“Write me every week.”

“I will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Barton boys stick together.”

It was something their grandfather and uncle said often. Clint managed a smile. It looked easier than when they’d lived in America. Uncle Douglas held his fist out. Barney bumped fists with him.

“Keep an eye on the lads, will you?”

“Sure.”

The other two also said their goodbyes. Clint gave them both a hug and Krista began to cry. Barney decided to beat a hasty retreat, helping Jason put his trunk in one compartment before Jem urged him sit with him and meet his friends. Barney returned for one last hug from Clint before the train whistle blew.

“Go on lad.” said Uncle Alastor. “Have a good time.”

“Win the fights.” counselled Uncle Douglas.

“Write me every week!”

With that, Barney clambered onto the train and found Jem. Only his cousin had company. Two boys and a blonde girl were in the carriage.

“Barney, this is Gabriel Novak, Karla Sofen, and Akihiro Howlett. This is my cousin, Barney.”

“Another cousin?” said Karla, sounding despairing.

Jem shrugged. He’d propped his feet up on the seat but lifted them when Barney scowled. He promptly put them back on Barney’s lap.

“What Houses are you in?”

“Slytherin.” said Akihiro and Gabriel.

Karla was in Ravenclaw and Barney already knew Jem was in Hufflepuff. It was apparently a common House for Moodys. Karla asked about Barney’s immediate family which was just Clint. Gabriel had a brother the same age as did Akihiro. Jem kicked Barney at the same time as the door pushed open. Aaron, another cousin the year below Barney, grinned in. He, like Jem and Jason, bore an uncanny resemblance to Clint and therefore their great-grandfather. Another boy lingered behind him.

“Hey cuz. Heard you were on the train. How’d you like it so far?”

Barney shrugged. “Not bad. Hey, Jem won’t tell me what the Sorting is.”

Aaron laughed. “You just put a-”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Cross.”

Jem had his wand out, probably to cast a Silencing Charm. Hopefully to cast a Silencing Charm. As it was uncertain, and Jem was prone to violence, Aaron lifted his hands, shrugged at Barney to say, ‘sorry dude’ and left. The lingering boy followed.

“Nobody told me.” said Jem flatly. “Nobody’s telling you.”

Barney laughed. “Petty.”

Jem looked ridiculously proud of this assessment. The conversation between the other three drifted to their respective summers.

“I mean, we went to Spain.” said Gabriel. “So on the one hand, amazing. On the other, hot. So hot.”

Karla laughed. “You ungrateful shit. I went to Wales. It rained the entire time.”

Akihiro mentioned visiting his mother’s family. Then Karla turned to Barney.

“What about you Barney? What did you do?”

Barney couldn’t think of a good lie and he also didn’t want to tell the truth. I saw my mom brutally murdered by my dad. Lovely weather though. Jem however, saved him by talking about the surprise birthday party they’d thrown for Barney and the shopping in Diagon Alley with their grandmother.

*

They eventually arrived at Hogwarts late in the evening. The others made their way to the carriages while Barney trudged to the boats. He didn’t particularly wanted to row but as it was ‘custom’ they had to. Barney spotted Jason and waved. Jason came over, volunteering to share his boat with two other first-years. He didn’t try and introduce them.

“Hey,” said Jason when they were halfway across the lake, “Heck taught me a Muggle nursery rhyme. Wanna hear it?”

“Do we have a choice?” sneered one of the first-years.

Jason ignored him. “Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily, I will make you scream.”

“That’s as creepy as Heck.” replied Barney irritably.

He repeated it enough that Barney began to consider pushing Jason out of the boat. But that would be morally wrong. Probably. Only if he died.

“It’s ‘life is but a dream’ idiot.” said the girl.

They started bickering over the right ending and Barney wondered if he could just swim to the shore. He managed to restrain himself from pushing his cousin out and from jumping out himself until they finally arrived. A stern witch, dressed all in black greeted them at the door. Barney had never been so glad to see a stern teacher in his life, it was probably the only thing that shut Jason up.

“I am Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor House. Follow me please.”

Barney hung back before trundling along behind the first-years. He felt like a giant among all the first-years. A big awkward one with the wrong accent and the wrong surname. McGonagall pushed open the door to the Great Hall. Barney had expected a process similar to Ilvermony, where you stood on a disk and were chosen by the House statues. Instead Hogwarts had a hat. A singing hat.

“I’m in hell.” muttered Barney.

One of the first-years stared up at him.

*

Gadreel turned to watch the first-years enter. Aaron twisted as well. The two of them were sat at the Hufflepuff table. Gadreel had chosen his seat deliberately so he couldn’t see Lucifer sneering at him.

“There he is. My cousin.”

Jem rolled his eyes at him. Barney would have been easy to spot even without Aaron pointing them out. Barney’s hair was red enough for a Weasley and he stood at least a head above the tallest first-years.

“Oh, that’s another cousin.”

McGonagall got out her list and began to go through the names.

“Abbey, Fred!”

A small boy sat on the stool. The Hat shouted for Slytherin. Gadreel always felt a little bitter about not being Sorted into Slytherin. His mother had been furious, his two oldest brothers mocking. Gabriel had patted him on the shoulder and moved on. Hufflepuff was the worst as far as his family was concerned. Fairness was an outdated practice.

“Come on, come on.” muttered Jem.

Prigusivac, another cousin of Aaron’s though one he avoided like the plague, was practically falling off his seat to get a better look.

“Barton, Barney!”

A whisper ran through the Hall at the name ‘Barton’. It had been the same when Regulus Black had been sorted. The Bartons were almost as notorious as the Lestranges these days, especially after Harold’s attack in the summer. Barney walked over to the stool with the Hat and dropped onto it. The stool was clearly too small for him. The Hat fell silent. It took three minutes for it to open its brim and shout:

“SLYTHERIN!”

The green-and-silver table erupted into cheers at the same time as Aaron and Jem groaned aloud.

“I wanted him in Hufflepuff.” whined Aaron.

“He’s in with Heck now.” said Jem irritably. “Fucking creep.”

Barney took the Hat off and moved down towards the Slytherin table. He flopped down next to Snape and Gabriel. He waved over to Aaron who waved back. A few more first-years were sorted and then it was the cousin’s turn.

“Moody, Jason!”

Akihiro walked with much more swagger than Barney had. The Hat was barely on his head before it was screaming for Hufflepuff. The table erupted again and Jem leaned over to ruffle his hair.

*

“This is clearly the best House then.” said Barney as he sat down.

Akihiro snorted. “Modest.”

Barney grinned. He’d never really believed in modesty. A boy opposite Barney sneered.

“Do you even know what Slytherin House looks for in its students?”

Barney shrugged. “Cunning, ambition, whatever else the Hat sang about.”

He glanced over to where Aaron was looking forlorn next to his friend. He waved and Aaron perked up, waving back. The friend, Gad something, looked away.

“Who are you waving to?” asked the boy on Barney’s right.

“Cousin.”

He asked for the other boy’s name. He introduced himself as Snape, the sneering boy as Mulciber and another boy as Wilkes.

“Lucifer Novak.” said the blond boy from opposite Akihiro. “I didn’t realise there were any school-age Bartons.”

“Yeah, well. Here I am.”

Barney only knew one uncle and his grandparents from the Barton side. His mom had refused to take him to meet anyone else. They’d visited the Barton family farm in… somewhere in England, twice. Lucifer turned back to.

“If I’d known you were on the train, I would have come to introduce myself.”

Gabriel seemed to bristle. “I talked to him.”

“Yes but Gadreel probably did too and everyone knows he’s the halfwit of the family. We must have made a terrible impression.”

You’re making one right now. Barney didn’t say anything, instead giving him the same smile his father used to give the Aurors when they came knocking.

“Who is your father?” asked Snape.

“Harold Barton, right?” said Mulciber. “He came over to our house once.”

“What was it like?” asked Lucifer. “Being in the same house as a wizard that dedicated?”

Chick called from down the table, “Leave him alone Lucy. He’s new.”

For once, Barney was grateful to Chick. Mulciber scowled.

*

Once the Sorting was done and the food eaten, Barney followed Gabriel out of the Hall and towards the Slytherin common room.

“The password changes once a fortnight. The prefects will leave it on the noticeboard though. If you forget, you wait outside until someone lets you in.”

Barney was more curious about the common room though. The Slytherin one was longer but narrower with green lighting instead of the soft blue Barney had been used to in Wampus.

“Is that the lake?” asked Barney.

Gabriel glanced over. “Yes, sometimes we see the giant squid. Or the merfolk.”

“Cool.”

Barney’s family, according to Uncle Kenneth, had learned magic from the merfolk. According to Uncle Douglas, they had merfolk blood in them instead but that seemed like a biological impossibility. The swishing water was relaxing though and the low-backed chairs were comfortable. Barney was about to sit down when Mulciber came back with a friend.

“This is Avery. Avery, this is Barney Barton.”

Avery’s eyes widened. “Son of Harold Barton? What’s he like? Did he teach you any curses?”

Barney gritted his teeth. He would not start a fight on his first night here. Anyway, it wasn’t Harold who’d been teaching him about curses. He’d spent enough time around Chick and Jem to pick up a few of their tricks.

“Guy’s in Azkaban. Does it matter?” said Akihiro.

Barney had just discovered a new best friend. Lucifer stepped forward.

“I want to know more about him.”

“Got a crush on him?”

Barney had years of experience in seeing punches coming for him. He had a few less in dodging them. But he did manage to duck and slam his own fist into Lucifer’s stomach. It wasn’t a perfect hit, he’d forgotten most of Will’s advice, but he did remember not to tuck his thumb in. As Lucifer staggered back, Chick got him in a headlock.

“Fuck with my cousin again, and I’ll kill you.”

He said it very calmly, the same way Barney asked what radio station they were listening to. Chick then let Lucifer go and the two of them headed off to their dorm as if nothing had happened. Gabriel called Barney over, asking questions about the difference between Ilvermony and Hogwarts. Barney went to the sofa, but kept his hand on his wand. Avery and Mulciber had also looked a little pissed off.

Chapter 3: Ordinary Life

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

23rd September 1973- Barney: 13, Clint: 9

 

Clint was bored. He was always bored in school but today was worse than usual. Barney was away, it was raining, Uncle Alastor had been working away that week, and it was a Friday. The weekend was right around the corner, just behind Spanish class.

“Have you got ants in your pants?” Bobbi whispered.

As two of the clever kids, they sat next to each other in every class. Luckily, Clint liked Bobbi. Unluckily, the teachers always told them off for talking. Such as now.

“Barbara, is there something you want to share with the rest of the class?”

“No miss.”

“Good.”

Bobbi pulled a face as soon as the teacher’s back was turned.

*

The school bell rang and Clint charged outside with Bobbi and his other classmates. He sucked in a lungful of clean air- well, he lived in Manchester so really he sucked in a lungful of air- and scanned the playground for someone he was related to. As every Moody was an Auror, except for Grandma Carina and Aunt Miriam, their work schedules were changeable. Clint had been in afterschool club at least five times so far and school had only been open for two weeks. He couldn’t see any relatives immediately but Bobbi did drag him over to meet her mom.

“This is Clint.”

“Hello Clint. It’s lovely to meet you. Bobbi talks about you all the time.”

Bobbi’s Mom had a nice smile and one of those professional Muggle outfits Uncle Alastor had had to wear once for a case. He called it a ‘snoot’ or something.

“Nice to meet you ma’am.”

“Where’s your mum?”

“She died. I live with my uncle.”

Bobbi’s Mom made a sympathetic face.

“Mum, can Clint come to tea at ours?” asked Bobbi hopefully.

“We’d have to ask his uncle.”

There was a shout and Will came jogging across the playground. A few of the parents turned to watch him. He was wearing a snoot too, so he must have been working. He clapped a hand on Clint’s shoulder.

“Hey kiddo.”

“Will, can I go to Bobbi’s for tea?”

Will was already shaking his head before Clint finished his question.

“Sorry. I’m dropping you off with Uncle Alastor. You know what he’s like.”

Clint resisted the urge to pout because that was Krista did. So instead he sighed. Heavily. Will looked guilty though, which was more than Uncle Alastor would be.

“You can ask him if you can go some other time, if Bobbi’s mum doesn’t mind.”

Bobbi’s Mom confirmed that she wouldn’t mind and that Clint was welcome any time. Will thanked her, grabbed Clint’s hand and walked them out of view of the general public. Then he Apparated the pair of them down to the Ministry in London.

*

“Deep breaths.” said Will, not sounding remotely fazed by the fact that Clint was on his knees in the middle of the Ministry atrium.

“You could warn me.”

“I could.” agreed Will. “I will. Next time.”

Clint glared up at him, spotting the tiny smirk. Will was the nice cousin, usually, the one who sneaked Clint extra biscuits after meals at their great-grandfather’s and the one who taught Barney how to throw a punch. Springing a surprise Apparition on someone was more Hansel’s thing, especially when he’d discovered Barney vomited every time he Apparated.

“How’s the stomach?”

“Wobbly.”

Will laughed and held his hand out. Clint grudgingly took it. He was nine, not six like Krista, but the Ministry was big and it was full of people. Will guided him over to the elevator before Clint could get a proper look at the shouting man underneath the fountain.

“In.” said Will firmly.

One of the witches inside the elevator had a cardboard box that appeared to have smoke coming out of it. Smoke. Clint was tempted to ask what was in there but Will gave him a stern look. Then a small man got into the elevator and spotted Will.

“There you are, Ethan’s been going mad. Where have you been?”

“Family matter.” said Will.

“Fam-!” began the man before he glanced down at Clint.

Clint resembled his mother which meant that he also resembled a good portion of the Moody family, Will included. To the point where one old woman in Manchester had thought Hansel was Clint’s brother, not Barney, which had been more than a little awkward.

“You brought him here?!” hissed the man, trying to be subtle. “Ethan’s going to-”

Clint scowled up at him. He wasn’t that far away. Will’s face had shuttered down like it did when someone asked about work.

“Ethan can deal with it, Benji. I’m dropping my cousin off with my uncle and then I’ll come back to the office and tell Ethan why everything he’s planned is wrong.”

Clint giggled at that, despite himself. He knew Will was smart, the smartest in the family according to his granddad. Benji sputtered and Will shared another small smirk with Clint. They got off the elevator and trundled down a corridor. Clint had never actually been in the Auror offices before. They weren’t proper offices, just cubicles. Some cubicles were bigger than others, those were shared by teams according to Will. Benji headed to their cubicle and Will steered Clint down to a row of chairs outside an actual office. The nameplaque on the office said ‘Rufus Scrimgeour, Head of the Auror Department’.

“Just wait here, Uncle Alastor will be out soon.” promised Will.

Then he left, leaving Clint stuck on one of the hard wooden chairs. There was another kid sat there, around the same age as Clint. She had red hair, though hers was darker than Barney’s, and she was very pale.

“Hi.” said Clint, because there was a person sat there and he was bored.

The girl glared at him and went back to her book. Oh, she was probably annoyed Clint had interrupted her reading. Barney always pretended to cuff him with the book if Clint interrupted Barney’s reading. Then Gretel had actually hit him with her book when he’d done it to her. Clint contemplated the best way to ask Uncle Alastor to let him have tea at Bobbi’s when the girl looked back up at him.

“Privyet.”

 Clint wondered if that was her name. Possibly. Probably. She had a thick accent, like the ones the villains have on the old TV Hansel and Chick had scrounged up from somewhere. It hadn’t come with an instruction manual, as far as Clint could tell, so Jem and Barney had had to try and figure out how to actually make it work. They’d fused the lights three times before Uncle Douglas and Grandma had come to find out what was going on. Then Chick had tried to push Heck into the TV and Gretel had banned Chick from the room. Kenny produced the instruction manual after he’d drawn on it.

Anyway, the point was her accent was cool. Clint pointed to himself.

“Clint.”

Privyet smiled at him. Clint returned it. She patted the seat next to her, so Clint grabbed his reading folder and came to sit next to her. Her book was written in something that wasn’t English. That was when it occurred to Clint that Privyet might not actually speak English. So Clint dug his school reading book (The Railway Children, ugh) out of his bag and held it out to her. Privyet opened it and looked through, pointing at the pictures. Clint would have done the same with her book, but she didn’t have any pictures in hers.

Once they’d exhausted any and all ‘point at pictures’ games, Clint got to his feet. Privyet looked disappointed so he stuck his hand out.

“Come on, I’ll show you around.”

Privyet just stared at him so he wiggled his hand at her. She glanced over at the office door and frowned. Clint put a finger to his lips. She grinned at that, grabbed his hand, and followed him down the corridor. Clint managed to remember which floor the fountain was on and took her over. Privyet seemed to like the fountain, though she looked vaguely horrified by the wand polishing service.

*

Alastor desperately wanted a drink. Half an hour of arguing with Ivan Romanov was enough to drive anyone to drink.

“Well, I think this was a productive meeting.” said Romanov as they walked out.

Alastor wasn’t really paying attention though. There was a Clint-shaped gap in the air where he was supposed to be. He could have gone with Will but that was highly doubtful. Will’s team leader wasn’t the sort of man to let a child stay in a meeting.

“Where is my daughter?” asked Romanov. “Natalia!”

Alastor headed over to Will’s cubicle to ask if he knew where Clint was. The response he got was a blank look followed by blind panic. Alastor’s stomach dropped. Will came hurrying out behind him and joined in the search with his team. Romanov was yelling at anyone who’d listen what would happen if his daughter wasn’t found. Alastor was not yelling because he was completely calm. The fact that there was a pit gnawing in his stomach meant nothing.

An hour later…

Alastor was starting to panic. A little. Clint was nowhere on the second floor. He was not in the Department for the Regulation of Magical Creatures which had been Alastor’s next guess. Phil had joined in the search now, along with Bobby Singer and John Winchester. Romanov had stopped shouting and had just gone pale.

“Where else would he go?” asked Bobby, able to perfectly reasonable.

Will volunteered an answer. “He likes that centaur statue in the atrium. Maybe he went down there?”

Alastor grunted. Will had apologised three times already. When they arrived in the atrium after an awkward ride in the lift, Alastor spotted Clint perched on the rim of the fountain.

“Clint Barton!” rumbled Alastor as he pushed his way through the crowds.

“Natalia Alianovna Romanova!” thundered Romanov.

Alastor hadn’t even noticed the giggling redheaded girl. Clint was beaming as if he’d earned fifty House points.

“Where the hell did you go?!” snapped Will.

Clint shrugged. “Round the Ministry. This is Privyet. She doesn’t speak English, I don’t think.”

Romanov was being given a much sullener account of the afternoon’s excitement.

“I said to wait for Uncle Alastor! You scared us! We’ve been looking for you for an hour. An hour, Clinton.”

Clint spat, “Don’t call me that!”

Will looked like he had a cutting response ready. Alastor interrupted, foreseeing the inevitable end of such an argument, and guided Clint back to his cubicle and sent Will back to his team. John and Bobby, relieved the kids had been found, went back to their own cases while Romanov continued to argue with Natalia in the middle of the corridor.

“Clint, when one of us tells you to stay somewhere, you have to do that. Otherwise we worry.”

Clint swung his legs back and forth. He opened and closed his mouth a few times. Thankfully, Alastor had had a quiet talk with Barney before the latter had left for Hogwarts. ‘Clint can’t always figure out what he wants to say. So you gotta help him sometimes.’

“OK, let’s take a step back.” said Alastor. “Do you understand why Will and I were so worried?”

Clint shook his head. Alastor glanced at the photo of Lestrange that was sneering down at him.

“The thing is, we have dangerous jobs. And we make enemies. The thought of one of them snatching you is… it’s terrifying kid. When you disappeared, all I could think about was what if one of them had you.”

“I didn’t think you got scared of anything.” mumbled Clint.

“Well I do. You disappearing is pretty scary.” Clint half-smiled at that so Alastor counted it as a small victory. “Why didn’t you stay where Will left you?”

There was a long pause. Alastor didn’t interrupt.

“’Cause it’s boring! I’m always bored and I’m always stuck waiting and at least in the summer I had the others to talk to and play with even when you were out working and now all I’ve got is after-school club or occasionally getting picked up by someone and then all they do is work. And it’s not fair, just ‘cause I can’t go to Hogwarts yet!”

Alastor leaned back. It was true that in the holidays, Clint could hang out with his older cousins and be safe there. But in termtime it clearly wasn’t going to work. Not if Clint was this frustrated two weeks in. And now he was eying Alastor warily as if he’d just realised that he’d been yelling.

“Alright kid.” said Alastor, making sure not to raise his hands or voice. “We’ll figure something out.”

“Can I go to Bobbi’s for tea next week? Her mom said I could if you said I could.”

Alastor laughed. “I don’t see why not. I’ll talk to her next week.”

Clint’s smile could have lit up a room.

*

“Uncle Alastor, Uncle Alastor, Barney’s written, there’s a letter from Barney!” was the enthusiastic wake-up call Alastor received on Saturday.

“What does it say?”

Clint was jumping up and down in the doorway to Alastor’s room, waving the letter above his head. He then bounced onto Alastor’s bed, completely heedless of the fact that he’d jumped on Alastor while doing so.

“Read it, read it!”

Alastor was going to lock the sugar bowl up.

Hey Clint and Uncle Alastor,

I got on the Quidditch team!! I only tried out because Jem dared me to. I’m a Chaser and Akihiro is a Beater. Jem tried out for Beater but they said to try next year so he’s really pissed angry about that. Nathan, that’s the Slytherin Captain, said my broom’s really good so thanks again Uncle.

Classes are fine, I guess. There’s a couple of pricks not very nice people here but I haven’t started any fights, like you said. Chick broke Mulciber’s nose for me. He says ‘hi’. I think. I don’t know, he had his mouth full at the time.

There’s not much else to say, I guess. How’s home? Hey Clint, did you manage to get the ball out of the chimney?

Lots of love, Barney

Alastor rubbed his forehead.

“Why is there a ball in the chimney?”

“Hansel dared me. It’s not there anymore, anyway.”

“Thank Merlin for that.”

“It’s in the toilet.”

“Well shit.”

Notes:

Clint and Barney's cousins are characters Jeremy Renner has played in other films like Hansel and Gretel, the Bourne Legacy, the Town, Love Comes to the Executioner, etc.

Feel free to leave a kudos or comment!

Chapter 4: The Attack

Notes:

There is a mention of child abuse and violence against children. Skip from "look what I found!" and continue reading at "Shit, move!". Also skip from the second "Greyback, find them!" to "Your ace..." It's as non-descriptive as I could make it. See end notes for more details.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

12th October 1973: Barney- 13 Clint- 9

 

Alastor was leaning against the car park wall when Clint came out of school. He was chattering to a friend he’d made, Bobbi something. Alastor lifted a hand and Clint happily skipped over.

“How was school?”

“I got full marks on a test! Full marks Uncle Alastor!”

“Well done! I’m proud of you.”

Clint told him, in detail, about every answer he’d written and every conversation he’d had. They were walking along the street next to the park when Alastor heard the popping.

“Uncle!” shouted Clint.

Alastor looked up to see six Death Eaters, wearing their masks and cloaks.

“Avada Ked-“

Alastor flicked his wand out of his pocket and cut the Death Eater off mid-word.

“Run Clint!”

He pushed him and Clint, for once in his life, did as he was told. With Clint out of the way, Alastor began to duel. Whoever they were, they were good. At least two could cast non-verbal skills. Three times Alastor had to throw himself to the side when a green light appeared. The others were still good, casting curses and hexes almost quicker than Alastor could cope with.

“Confringo!” shouted one, probably a Lestrange.

Alastor rolled to the closest Death Eater, ignoring whatever had been blown up. He snapped their knee. The Death Eater screeched and stumbled. Alastor used the opportunity to pull whoever it was in front of him as a shield. When he looked up though, one of the Death Eaters was looking towards the park. He took the opportunity to cast the Expulso Curse, sending the distracted Death Eater flying into a brick wall. Something hit one of Probably-Lestrange, who staggered.

“Petrificus Totalus.” muttered Alastor.

The Body-Bind did its job, removing another Death Eater. One of the unharmed Death Eaters swore, and flicked their wrist. The green light hit their comrade, making them hang limp in Alastor’s arms. Probably-Lestrange brought the previously bound Death Eater to their feet. Swearer cast a spell at Alastor. There was a flash of white light and then burning pain in Alastor’s left eye. He dropped the dead Death Eater, staggering back. He put a hand over his eye and flicked out a curse before they could attack. The previously bound Death Eater fell dead. The one Alastor had sent into a wall had disappeared. He took the opportunity to weigh up his odds. Swearer, Probably-Lestrange, Silent, and the one that had been sent into a wall. At least three Death Eaters, one woozy, one possibly wounded, two unharmed, against a definitely wounded Alastor. He was about to Apparate away when he remembered.

Clint.

The nine-year-old wouldn’t stand a chance against one, let alone four. The two sides considered each other and Alastor considered blowing all five of them up. One of them stumbled forwards, yelping.

“Greyback, find them!” asked Probably-Lestrange.

Merlin’s balls, Greyback. That made the decision even easier for Alastor. He’d take his time with Clint. If he found him. He still couldn’t see a damn thing out of his left eye and he was probably going to pass out any minute. A voice called back.

“Look what I found!”

Greyback was trotting back, carrying a small boy by the scruff of his neck. Alastor went cold. Blood fanned down the side of Clint’s face.

“Reckon we’ll keep this one, Moody. Have him join the family.”

The silent unharmed Death Eater twirled their wand lazily.

“Better idea. Crucio.”

It turned out hearing Clint scream was much more painful than his eye. Alastor fired a Killing Curse at the Death Eater casting the curse. They crumpled to the ground. Then Alastor went soaring through the air, landing on the street a few metres down. White flashed across his vision. Groaning, he stumbled back to his feet. Breathing was difficult. Greyback was still there. Fury and Shacklebolt were there, wands out and duelling with Greyback and Swearer. Probably-Lestrange was already on the ground. Clint had disappeared, hopefully back to whatever hidey-hole he’d been in before Greyback had grabbed him. Alastor cast a curse at Swearer.

“Shit, move!”

Swearer and Greyback Disapparated before Alastor could think to Stun either of them.

“What the hell happened to you?” asked Shacklebolt.

“Clint.” said Alastor.

He stumbled over to the bodies. One was noticeably smaller than the others. Breathing suddenly became a distant thought. He tried to kneel but stumbled and almost fell flat on his face. His eye was throbbing, his ribs were probably broken.

“Clint.”

Clint looked over at him with a bloody knife and a long scratch down the side of his face. He was breathing heavily, probably an after-effect of the Cruciatus Curse. His smile dropped and his eyes widened as he looked at Alastor’s face. Merlin, he probably blamed Alastor for the attack.

“How badly are you hurt?” asked Alastor.

Clint’s answer was lost to him as the world turned black.

*

Barney was messing around with his friends when Professor Slughorn came to find him.

“Barney, Professor Dumbledore wants to see you.”

Barney glanced over at Jem who shrugged. Slughorn let him into Dumbledore’s office and then positioned himself by the door. Dumbledore was sat behind his desk, looking serene as ever. The phoenix eyed him beadily.

“Whatever it was you think I’ve done sir, I didn’t.”

Dumbledore smiled. “Oh I’m quite sure you’ve done nothing wrong. Have a seat Mr Barton.”

Barney lowered himself into the chair opposite Dumbledore’s. Dumbledore handed him a letter, still serene. Not in trouble then. Barney flicked the letter open suspiciously. As he read it, the words began to blur together.

Alastor Moody… attacked… St Mungo’s… unstable…

“My brother?” asked Barney. “This doesn’t mention my brother. Why isn’t he mentioned? Sir.”

Some small part of Barney thought Dumbledore was going to say ‘Because he’s fine and staying at a friend’s’. The sensible part knew he wasn’t.

“I’m afraid your brother is also in St Mungo’s.”

“Wait, Clint’s in hospital? Why? He wasn’t even there.”

Dumbledore sighed. “He was. I’m told he and your uncle were on their way back from school. Clint was attacked with a Cruciatus Curse.”

“What? Can I see them sir? I mean, he’s my brother. And Alastor’s my uncle.”

Dumbledore smiled and gestured to the phoenix.

“Hold Fawkes, he will take you to St Mungo’s.”

Barney sceptically grabbed the phoenix.

*

Clint was in the spare room at his grandma’s when he heard Barney’s voice. Footsteps thumped up the stairs and a shock of red hair popped round the door. The worry on Barney’s face melted into a warm smile the moment he saw Clint.

“Hey Clint-bro.”

He closed the door behind him and came to sit on the bed. It was wide enough that Clint’s feet didn’t touch the floor even when he sat on the edge. Barney leaned all the way back against the wall, pulling Clint with him.

“Ow.”

“Sorry. Wanna talk about it?”

“Thought Grandma would have told you.”

“I didn’t ask what happened.” said Barney gently. “I asked if you wanted to talk about it. Heard some stuff about a knife.”

Clint’s hand went to his face.

“Clint. Talk to me.”

“We were walking back from school-”

After Uncle Alastor had told him to run, he’d taken off into the hedges lining the pavement. From there, he had the park at his back and it was almost impossible to see someone hiding in those hedges, especially at dusk. He found a small gap in the hedge where he could see the lights flash across. Uncle Alastor was holding his own but he almost got hit by one of the green lights.

“Confringo!”

There was an explosion and fire sprang up from a car further down the street. As Uncle Alastor moved closer to one of the masked people, the biggest was about to cast a curse. Clint fumbled on the ground, grabbed a rock and lobbed it through one of the gaps in the hedge. It hit the masked person on the back of the head-

“You threw a rock at a Death Eater.” said Barney. “Not just any Death Eater, the biggest one there.”

Clint wasn’t sure if he was pleased or annoyed. He shifted slightly and winced.

“Well, I don’t have a wand. And I didn’t know it was a Death Eater.”

“Fuck. Go on.”

“That’s a bad word.”

“Clint.”

Two of the Death Eaters turned to look towards him. Uncle Alastor cast something and the Death Eater Clint had hit went flying backwards. Clint found himself wincing as he watched the man collide with a brick wall. He threw another rock at one of the people looking towards the park. It caught them in the shoulder instead of the head but they still spun. One Death Eater snapped to attention and fell, still in the same pose. White light streaked towards Uncle Alastor and he took a few steps back. Clint gasped before remembering himself and biting his lip tightly.

“Greyback, find them!”

A second later, a hand tightened round Clint’s arm and he was hauled out of the hedge. He kicked whoever was holding him. From the grunt, it sounded like he got them in the stomach. The hand tightened round his arm and a claw or a knife traced its way down the side of his face.

“Well, aren’t you a surprise?”

The voice was deep and raspy. A hand grabbed him by the back of his neck, letting go of his arm. Clint could feel blood oozing down his face.

“Look what I found! Reckon we’ll keep this one, Moody. Have him join the family.”

Clint looked over to Uncle Alastor. He couldn’t see him properly in the fading light but he looked like he had blood on his face too. One of the Death Eaters twirled their wand.

“Better idea. Crucio.”

Clint broke off at that point. He didn’t want to talk about the next bit. Clint had thought getting his face bounced off a brick wall had hurt. This had been like a thousand hot knives burning him, setting his insides on fire. He’d screamed until his throat was sore, and then screamed some more. The pain hadn’t quite faded, more like it had gone from a cut to a bruise. But it had been a hell of a bruise. Then he’d been dropped on the ground.

He hadn’t realised he was shaking until he felt Barney tugging him against his chest like he was a teddy bear. Part of Clint wanted to complain, he wasn’t a baby, but the far larger part of him was very glad his big brother was back. Barney didn’t push him to carry on but Clint did anyway, skipping the hot knives stabbing him a thousand times part.

Every part of him ached but Clint was determined to lift at least his head. Every part of him felt like it had been kicked the length of a Quidditch pitch and back again. He spotted the knife on the ground, probably the same one that had been used to cut his face. He grabbed it and looked up at the Death Eaters stood on either side of him. The biggest, Greyback, had moved further away but there was one right there. Clint managed to grab the handle of the knife in shaking hands and bring it into the man’s leg. The man screamed. Lights flashed over Clint’s head and the man tumbled to the ground. Clint pulled the knife back out and threw it away. The man turned his head and reached to grab for Clint. A jet of red light had hit him and he’d tumbled backwards.

Clint wasn’t sure how much time had passed but he ached. The blood had stopped oozing down his face. He tried to sit up but his arms wouldn’t hold him up properly. He did manage a strange half-roll that left his upper body facing the sky. Uncle Alastor’s face loomed over him. Clint began to smile until he realised exactly what was wrong with his uncle’s face. One of his eyes was missing.

“Your face…”

That was when Uncle Alastor hit the ground on top of the man Clint stabbed.  

“The other Aurors took me to St Mungo’s. I haven’t been back that long. I’m fine though.”

“We don’t lie to each other.” said Barney, still quiet.

One hand was tracing circles on Clint’s arm, the same way he used to when they were hiding in the loft.

“I was so scared, when that man- Greyback- grabbed me, I wet myself. And now, I’m scared that when I go to sleep, I’ll see it again.”

“Everybody gets scared Clint. That’s just being alive.”

“You’re never scared.”

There was a long pause. When Barney finally did speak again, all emotion had left his voice. 

“When we hid from Dad, I was scared. I wanted to cry but if I did, he’d find us. He still scares me. I dream about him, you know. Sometimes I wake up and forget that we live with Uncle Alastor, and I think he’s gonna come back and break my hands again.”

Clint twisted his head up. Barney was staring at the wall opposite the bed. He’d never seemed scared, ever. Even when he was crying. Digesting this new information, Clint leaned back down and tugged Barney’s arm higher up. The warmth helped with the pain.

“How do you get the dreams to stop?”

“You wake up.”

Clint slowly rolled over, wrapping one arm around Barney as if he was the teddy bear now. Barney didn’t seem to mind, just shifted Clint’s elbow from where it was digging into his stomach.

“If I get a bad dream, will you wake me up?”

“Yes.” replied Barney.

So Clint let himself fall asleep, with Barney rubbing circles into his back and singing an old song their mother used to sing after bad dreams.

Notes:

Clint is grabbed by Fenrir Greyback and is cut on his face. An unnamed Death Eater uses the Cruciatus Curse on him for a few seconds. Alastor kills the Death Eater. Clint briefly describes it in his thoughts and its effects on him to Barney.

Chapter 5: Family Gatherings

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

13th October 1973: Barney- 13, Clint- 9

 

There was nothing like a family gathering to make Barney think he was the only one out of his entire family with half a brain.

“We should enrol him in archery.” said Old Man Moody, Barney’s great-grandfather.

“Perhaps a duelling club as well.” offered Grampa Conall.

Barney resisted the urge to scream.

“Or help.” said Adrianna. “He’s nine.”

“The voice of reason.” said Will, pointing at her. “Barney’s right. He’s a kid. Maybe we shouldn’t get the weapon wall out just yet.”

They were seated around Grandma Carina’s dining table. Not everyone was there, most of the kids except Barney, Clint, and Krista, were at Hogwarts while some of the adults were at work. And Uncle Alastor was in St Mungo’s. Barney wasn’t allowed to see him yet apparently, they needed to wait another week. Old Man Moody had the head seat, naturally. There was an empty chair for Uncle Alastor. Everyone seemed to have their own seat. Barney was at the bottom of the table.

“The boy needs to be able to defend himself better than throwing a few rocks. Though, it was very imaginative. He could be a good Auror.” mused the patriarch.

Barney finally spoke up. “Can we wait ‘til he graduates to decide his career?”

He regretted it when every single person turned to look at him. Will was trying not to laugh, the traitor. Uncle Kenneth, Old Man Moody’s other son, scowled.

“Why is there a child here?”

“I’m Clint’s representative.” said Barney.

Will, sat next to Barney and hidden from the older generations’ eyes, mouthed ‘Good thinking’. The adults turned back to face Old Man Moody. There was a scream from upstairs. Barney didn’t bother to excuse himself and rushed upstairs. Clint was awake when he got to his room.

“Hey kid.”

Clint did his best to pretend he hadn’t been crying. Instead, he hopped off the bed.

“I’m fine.”

“Hungry?”

“Yeah. Can I have sausages?”

“I have no idea.” replied Barney honestly. “I haven’t looked in the cupboards.”

The two of them went back downstairs, Clint still clad in his pyjamas. Barney wasn’t going to even try and get him to change. Barney ushered Clint to the kitchen. Will and Old Man Moody came in while Barney was rooting through the cupboards and complaining about the very wizard-orientated selection.

“Do they even have real food? Look at this. ‘Dervish’s Hippogriff Cereal’. Can’t we just have Coco Pops?”

“Don’t they have Dervish in America?” asked Will, hopping onto a stool.

“It’s empty anyway.” said Barney.

“Mom always bought from No-Maj shops.” said Clint. “She said it was cheaper. Really, nothing?”

“Do you want a pickle and a burger bun?”

“Not really.”

“Then there’s nothing.”

Old Man Moody, who so far had just been stood there watching, finally interrupted.

“I’ll take you out for breakfast Clint, when you’re dressed. And we can talk about some after-school classes for you. I’m sure you find it very boring, just you and your uncle in the house.”

“I go over to Bobbi’s a lot.”

*

One week later…

Barney lingered outside the hospital room. Old Man Moody was taking Clint to school for his first proper day back. His teachers had been given a No-Maj acceptable version, claiming that his uncle was an important figure in the police force and his great-grandfather was an important politician.

“Mr Barton?” asked a Healer. “Your uncle’s ready for you.”

Barney thanked her as he slipped into the room. Uncle Alastor looked worse than he’d expected. One of his eyes was completely bandaged up and he seemed… smaller, lying in the bed.

“Hey.” said Barney.

The unbandaged eye fluttered open. Uncle Alastor looked vaguely confused as he looked around. Barney moved to the other side of the bed. The confusion cleared and Uncle Alastor’s face creased into a smile.

“Barney. Is Clint OK?”

Barney grabbed a chair and sat down.

“He’s still scared. He keeps screaming in his sleep and coming in to sleep with me. The Old Man’s signed him up for martial arts and archery. So, I guess that’s his Halloween costume sorted forever.”

Uncle Alastor laughed then groaned as he lifted a hand to his face.

“Merlin, don’t make me laugh.”

“Sorry. I have to go back to Hogwarts today, anyway. Adrianna’s Apparating me there when I leave.”

Uncle Alastor nodded. His unbandaged eye was trying to close.

“You’re tired. I’ll be back at Christmas.”

“I won’t still be here.”

Barney didn’t bother pointing out that Uncle Alastor’s eye had been ripped out which probably warranted a longer hospital stay. He left, meeting Adrianna outside. She held her hand out.

“Ready to go?”

“Not really.”

Adrianna smiled and they Apparated outside the Three Broomsticks. Barney bent over and vomited. He hated Apparition.

“You still vomit?”

“Yes.”

Adrianna laughed, ruffling his hair. When Barney straightened up, he took his suitcase, promised to say hello to his cousins on her behalf, and headed off to Hogwarts. He got back during morning classes so he was able to unpack, grab his school bag and head to Transfiguration.

*

The class went silent when Barney walked in. Even Professor McGonagall faltered for a moment.

“Ah, Mr Barton. Take a seat next to Mr Black.”

Barney scanned the room. There were no Blacks in Slytherin in his year so it had to be one of the Gryffindors. He had no idea which one. Then a boy in the middle of the class lifted his hand. Barney made his way down the classroom. He recognised him up close as one of the pack of four that bullied other kids. Nothing as bad as Chick, or even Mulciber and Avery, but still a jackass. The class whispered as he sat down.

“Now, back to our work. Can anybody tell me the difference between an Animagus and a werewolf?”

“Where’s Moony when you need him?” whispered a fat blond Gryffindor boy.

“Shut up Peter.” muttered the other boy.

Barney dug his work out of his bag and put it on the table. Gabriel’s voice drifted over, answering the question. The whispering continued but stopped whenever Professor McGonagall looked in a whisperer’s direction. Peter turned around in his seat.

“Did you see the attack?”

“How could I?” asked Barney. “I was in Hogwarts.”

“Mr Pettigrew, is there something you would like to share with the class?”

“No Professor!”

Barney didn’t know people could actually squeak. The rest of class passed the same way as most Transfiguration classes, meaning Akihiro almost killed the poor bird he was Transfiguring and Gabriel succeeded effortlessly.

*

“Come on,” said Gabriel once class had ended. “Let’s go.”

Barney finished packing up and headed out with them. He’d barely set a foot outside the door when someone launched themselves at him, wrapping him in a hug.  He staggered backwards, saved by Akihiro and Gabriel catching him. The hugger drew back, revealing themselves to be Gretel, one of the older cousins and Adrianna’s daughter.

“There you are. How’s Clint? And Uncle Alastor? Come with us, tell us everything.”

“Can I get lunch first?” asked Barney.

His breakfast was still outside the Three Broomsticks. Unless Adrianna vanished it.

“Your mom says hi.”

“Hansel’s already gone to get you some food. Come on.”

She didn’t exactly give Barney a choice, grabbing him by the arm and hoicking him off towards an empty classroom. Aaron and Heck were already there, studiously ignoring each other. Gretel dropped Barney’s arm, letting him sink into a chair. Aaron grinned at him. Barney returned it while trying to rub his arm without letting Gretel see. She really didn’t need the ego boost. Jem came then, with slightly singed hair.

“You’re back!” he exclaimed, hugging Barney.

“Why is everyone acting like I’m the one that got attacked?” asked Barney.

He still hugged Jem back though. Jem let him go, flopping into the chair next to Barney and propping his feet up on the table. Gretel rolled her eyes. She was perched on a table as if that was somehow better.

“We’re concerned about Clint. And you’ve been gone a week. That only happens when it’s really serious. And you’re Jem’s only friend.”

“That’s not true! He’s my best friend, not my only friend.”

“Thanks Jem.”

“Touching.” said Chick from the doorway. “Heckie, Heckie, Heck. What are you doing here?”

“They’re my family too, idiot.” replied Heck.

Chick smiled nastily as he chose a seat as far away from Heck as possible. Aaron began to look a little uncomfortable at being between the pair of them. Barney didn’t blame him. Jem called arguments between the Prigusivac brothers ‘Creepy vs Creepier’.

“I’m here.” said Hansel, carrying a paper bag in one hand and Jason in the other.

“Put the first year down.” said Barney.

“Here’s lunch.” said Hansel, dropping the bag on the desk. “Got it for you, Jem, Jay, and Aaron. I would get something for Heck but I don’t think they serve bugs here.”

“Hansel.”

Hansel rolled his eyes and dropped Jason. The younger boy rubbed the back of his neck while scowling up at his cousin.

“Ass.”

“I heard that. Anyway, Barney, tell us how Clint is. And Uncle Alastor.”

Barney gave them the same report he’d given Uncle Alastor about Clint and then informed that Uncle Alastor had lost an eye. Hansel winced in sympathy, Gretel let out a string of colourful swear words, Jason tried not to look shocked.

“Well, that explains the note I got from the Old Man.” said Hansel, mimicking Jem and propping his feet up on a table.

“You never told me you got a note.”

“Why didn’t I get a note?”

Hansel rolled his eyes again. Barney was beginning to wonder if he had some sort of tic.

“I don’t have to tell you everything Gret. You didn’t get a note because you’re a fucking psychopath.”

“Doesn’t explain why I wouldn’t get a note.” muttered Chick.

“Old Man doesn’t like anyone thinking you’re related.” said Jem through a mouthful of sandwich.

“That’s disgusting.” said Aaron.

Barney asked what the note was. It turned out even family gatherings with his generation made him feel like the only sane man. Hansel reluctantly stopped glaring at Chick.

“Because he wants me and Gretel to teach you how to fight and duel. In the Room of Requirement. Even Heck. Sadly.”

Heck glared. It was a lot less powerful than Hansel and Chick’s glares. Hansel was already planning when to fit in the lessons around their actual Hogwarts classes.

“How did you get our timetables?” asked Jason.

“Not important. Here’s when we can have lessons.”

“Don’t you have homework? For your NEWTS?” asked Jem.

Hansel shrugged. “I’ll pass the ones I need to pass.”

Notes:

Feel free to leave a review!!

Chapter 6: Halloween

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

31st October 1973: Barney- 13, Clint- 9

 

“Stay still,” warned Will, “or you won’t be able to go.”

Clint froze in place. He didn’t think Will would really stop him from going treat-or-tricking but he wasn’t taking any risks. Everyone was watching him but trying to pretend that they weren’t. Except Will and Uncle Alastor.

“Do you like my costume?”

Will nodded. “It’s fantastic. What is it?”

“Green Arrow! Do you like the hat?”

“Definitely.”

With that, they left the house. Barney had convinced the Old Man and Grampa Conall to let him stay in Uncle Alastor’s house with Will as a temporary guardian. Clint wasn’t supposed to know but he’d heard the yelling from downstairs. Uncle Alastor was still in the hospital, recovering.

“What’s Bobbi dressed as?”

“Wonder Woman. She’s Green Arrow’s friend and they kick ass together!”

Will looked down at him with a raised eyebrow. It was creepily similar to the look Barney got whenever Clint said a bad word, but without the smirk.

“I mean, they beat the bad guys.”

“That’s better.”

When they reached Bobbi’s, it had pumpkins and fake spiderwebs strung across the gate and up the path. It looked excellent, despite Will’s muttering. Clint headed up the path, dodging the pumpkin, and knocked.

“Look Will, there’s a bat in that pumpkin!”

“Oh yeah.”

Bobbi’s mom opened the door. Bobbi was right behind her in the Wonder Woman costume. They’d bought them together with Bobbi’s mom and Aunt Adrianna.

“Oh you look wonderful!” said Bobbi’s mom. “Bobbi, are you ready?”

“Yep.”

“Off you go.”

With that the three of them set off. Will wasn’t wearing a Halloween costume, despite Clint’s begging. He’d heard from Uncle Douglas that three Howlers had been sent by Jem and Hansel, also begging Will to wear a Halloween costume. One had gone off in a meeting with the department head.

“It’s trick or treat, remember.” said Bobbi. “Not treat or trick.”

Clint nodded. Bobbi was the only one carrying a basket, as Clint had a bow. They knocked on one door and an old lady answered.

“Trick or treat!”

The old lady laughed, complimented their costumes and gave them each a candy bar. A whole candy bar, not the tiny little ones Bobbi’s mom was handing out. One house told them to ‘fuck off, fucking brats!’. Will had stuck his hand in his pocket. Clint thought he might be grabbing his wand.

“Come on kids, let’s find a nicer house.”

One door was answered by a middle-aged lady.

“Trick or treat!”

“Let’s have a trick then.”

Clint paused, dumbfounded. He had no idea what to do for a trick. Will had banned him from using magic in front of Muggles. Bobbi stepped up though, palm upturned.

“I can do this!”

Blue flame danced above her palm. The lady clapped and gave them half her candy supply. Bobbi put the flames away, skipping away. Clint frowned up at Will.

“Was that magic?”

“Yeah I think so kid.” said Will, sounding very resigned.

Will caught up to Bobbi, leaving Clint to follow a few steps behind.

“Can you show me that again, later?”

Bobbi pulled a face. “Mum told me not to show anyone.”

“It’s OK, I can do tricks too.”

They were halfway down the street by this point, towards the house with the huge bushes. They were a nightmare to get a football out of and Clint had dozens of scratches after playing out. Bobbi was in front, telling Will about the other magic tricks she could do. A dark figure leaped out from behind the bush, roaring as he did. He had a mask on, hiding his face. Clint stumbled backwards, knocking into someone.   

“Will!”

Someone scooped him up and bounced him. That was when Clint started screaming.

“Will! It’s him! It’s Greyback! Will!!”

Will was already there, grabbing him off his attacker. Clint buried his head into Will’s neck. It was too late though, Bobbi had seen him crying. He was going to throw up.

“Clint, look. Clint, it’s OK. Look, they’re just teenagers. They’re no worse than Aaron.”

Clint turned his head reluctantly, still holding on tightly to Will. The one who’d jumped out wasn’t as big as he’d thought, only about the same size as Hansel and not as broad. And he was blond. Not Greyback. Greyback wasn’t here. The one who’d picked him up was holding the bow out, chewing his lip.

“Sorry kid. We didn’t mean to scare you that much.”

“Pussy.” muttered the other one.

Will put Clint down and whirled on the other one.

“Hey arsehole, maybe think before you pull some stupid stunt like this and ruin a kid’s night.”

The other one glared over. “Dude, don’t be a dick. We’re sorry kids. Here, to say sorry.”

He dropped two five pound notes in Bobbi’s basket, grabbed his friend by the arm and they took off. Will turned back to Clint. He crouched down so he was on Clint’s eye-level.

“Hey kid, deep breaths OK? He isn’t here. You’re safe. He’s far away.”

Clint nodded slowly. Then threw up all over Will’s shoes. He didn’t complain though, instead just grabbing their hands and walking them home. Bobbi didn’t complain either and she didn’t call Clint a baby for crying. Bobbi’s mum looked surprised when she opened the door.

“I didn’t expect you back so early.”

“Are you two going to divide the chocolate, or does Bobbi get it all?”

“Come on Clint,” said Bobbi, “you can have the Milky Way if you want.”

Clint sat at the table opposite her and tried not to listen to Will’s explanation. He caught parts of it, about being surprised and thinking his attackers had come back. Thankfully, Will did not tell her about the crying. Or vomiting. Or screaming.

“Here.” said Bobbi, passing him the other big candy bar.

“I’ve already got one.”

“Have another one. I don’t really like Twix.”

Clint looked up at her. She was biting her lip, not saying anything to him like everybody else. Tiptoeing around him as if he was going to start screaming again.

“Bet you think I’m a scaredy-cat.”

Bobbi shook her head. “I think you’re really brave. I’d be too scared to go outside.”

Clint leaned in. “Sometimes I am. I get tummy aches but my grandma doesn’t believe me so I have to go in anyway.”

“Well, if you get tummy aches in school, I’ll make that blue fire. But it has to be a secret. Mum said I can’t ever show anyone.”

Clint smiled. “If you don’t tell anyone I cried, I’ll show you another secret.”

Bobbi grinned. “OK.”

“Clint.” called Bobbi’s mom. “Would you still like to stay over tonight or do you want to go home?”

“Can I go home?”

Will ruffled his hair and scooped him up. The chocolate and money were put in a paper bag and they headed home.

*

When they reached Uncle Alastor’s house, Will put Clint down on the front step. His shoes were going to stink for a week.

“Stay there until I say ‘film’, OK?”

Clint nodded and sat down. Will did a quick sweep of the house, called to Clint and then locked the door. And double and triple locked it when he saw Clint watching with wide eyes. He’d stopped looking so pale though, so Will was counting it as a win. He’d never been in charge when Clint had panicked but he had woken him up from nightmares before.

“Do you want to make hot chocolate and watch a film?”

“Can we have burnt marshmallows?”

Will frowned. “I mean, we can make them unburned.”

“Barney says they’re supposed to be burned.”

Barney had also managed to set an egg on fire at one point. Will wasn’t entirely sure Barney should be allowed near a kitchen, ever.

“That’s because Barney can’t cook worth a damn. Er… worth a… OK, let’s pretend you didn’t hear the d-word and we can watch two films.”

Clint giggled and went to get the fluffy blanket. He reappeared silently in the kitchen, scaring the fuck out of Will when he turned round to get the marshmallows.

“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Will’s bed was really Barney’s bed since the older boy was at Hogwarts.

“Yeah sure. As long as you don’t hog all the blankets.”

“No promises.”

Once the hot chocolate was made, Will brought it into the living room.

“What film are we watching?”

“Robin Hood, please.”

Will got the video and pushed it into the video player. Then he wriggled under the blanket and let Clint sprawl all over him. He didn’t sing along to the songs though, proof that he still wasn’t feeling himself. His cousin fell asleep thirty minutes in, leaving Will to watch a film about an animated fox by himself while trying not to sing along to the songs. At 23. The things I do for this family.

When the film had finished, Will carried Clint up to bed and gently put him down in Will’s bed. Will didn’t get in, instead sitting in the incredibly uncomfortable desk chair Barney seemed to adore and started on his paperwork from the latest Dark wizard capture.

*

Barney was nervous when he turned up at the room on the seventh floor. Jem was with him. Hansel was leaning next to a tapestry of trolls doing ballet.

“There you are. Come on.”

A pair of doors materialised out of the wall. They were tall, stretching all the way up to the ceiling and solid-looking. Barney doubted even a Blasting Curse could get through them.

“What the f-?”

“Room of Requirement. Come and Go Room. That place we use to train.” said Hansel, opening one of them. “It gives us whatever training equipment we need.”

Barney and Jem followed him in and were greeted with a gym. It had weights in one corner, a sparring mat in another, punching bags, and other equipment Barney couldn’t even name.

“Get on the treadmills. We’re going to work on conditioning to start with, build up your strength and speed.”

“Wait,” said Jem, “I thought we were going to learn magical self-defence. Curses, hexes, jinxes. Not running fast.”

Hansel rolled his eyes. “Gretel can teach you that. I teach you how to kick ass without your wand. Any idea why you might want to do that?”

“No trace.” said Barney. “It doesn’t break the underage Trace, and Priori Incantatem won’t work.”

“Nice answer.”

“Why do we even have to do this?” asked Jem. “Just because Clint’s started doing martial arts-”

Barney turned his head. “Who’s doing what now?”

“Did Grandfather not tell you? Yeah, he got Clint started at archery and martial arts. My dad told me in a letter.”

“Son of a bitch.”

*

When they finally hobbled out of the Room of Requirement, Barney seriously thought he was going to throw up. Jem didn’t look much better.

“What’s the word for murdering your cousin?”

“Wind sprints?” suggested Barney.

Hansel was irritatingly cheerful as he strode past them.

“See you on Thursday boys.”

“We have a day off.” said Jem.

“I have Quidditch practice on Wednesdays.”

“Sucks to be you.”

Barney glared at him and stumbled down to the Slytherin showers. Gabriel and Akihiro were waiting for him in their dorm room.

“How did the super-secret training go?”

“I didn’t know someone could sweat so much.”

“Well, that’s disgusting.”

Barney collapsed face-first onto his bed, completely ignoring the rest of his questions. Talking was far more effort than necessary. Sleep was a much better idea.

Notes:

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Chapter 7: Underhill

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

20th December: Barney- 13, Clint: 9

 

Clint was woken up by someone shaking his knee. He looked out of the window blearily. Night had fallen by now and there were no street lights but he could just about make out hills of varying heights, covered in dark masses. Clint was going to assume they were trees.

“Where are we?”

“About five minutes out.” replied Barney.

Uncle Alastor was still too frail to Apparate long distances so the three of them had to drive four hundred miles. Clint had fallen asleep about an hour in.

“I thought we were gonna stop for gas.”

“We did.” said Uncle Alastor. “You slept the whole way through.”

“I propped you up in the café at the service station and drew a moustache and glasses on your face.” said Barney cheerfully. “You still didn’t wake up.”

“Barney!”

“What? It’s not like I drew a dick on your forehead.”

“Barney!”

“No seriously, Uncle Alastor wouldn’t let me.”

Clint pawed at his face, trying to find a difference. The car swung round a corner, headlights shining on a sign that read ‘Underhill’. They bounced down a dirt track that was more holes than dirt, before slowing to a stop. The headlights illuminated the front of a stone house. A hill loomed behind it.

“We’re here.”

Uncle Alastor got out of the car, followed by Barney. Clint would have followed but Barney shut the door and leaned on it. Clint banged on the window and scowled up at his brother. Barney grinned back.

“Let me out!”

“Barney!” called Uncle Alastor.

Barney probably rolled his eyes but he did move off the door. Clint scrambled out and straightened up. He swung his backpack onto his shoulder. Barney helped Uncle Alastor with the bags. They’d brought presents for the entire Moody family so there were several. Clint hopped onto the front step and reached up for the door knocker. It was carved in the shape of a ram’s head. He had to stand on his tiptoes to do it, but he did manage to bring the knocker crashing down twice.

“Do you think they heard?”

“I think they heard in America.” replied Barney as he arrived at the step. “Take a bag.”

Clint reluctantly took two bags. As Barney still had four and a suitcase, it seemed only right. The door opened and Gretel emerged, scowl firmly in place.

 “Are you trying to knock the bloody- oh you’re here! Come in, we’ve been waiting ages. Even Hansel’s here.”

The trio trooped in behind Gretel. The entrance room was dark, with one ball of light hanging from the ceiling. The coat rack was already filled with coats but somehow Clint found a spare hook for his hoodie.

“Is it enchanted?” asked Barney.

“Yeah.” said Gretel. “You can always find a hook on it.”

“Where’s the bathroom?” asked Clint. “They didn’t wake me up for the bathroom break. And is there pen on my face?”

Gretel laughed. “They’re monsters. No, there’s no pen. I’ll show you the bathroom.”

Clint followed Gretel, mouthing ‘monster’ at Barney over his shoulder. Barney stuck his tongue out in response. They went past a wooden staircase and Gretel pointed to a door.

“In there. When you’re done, turn left.”

When Clint re-emerged, Gretel had gone. He also couldn’t hear Barney or Uncle Alastor further to the right. So he turned left and headed down the corridor, passing another couple of doors before coming to one at the end of the hall. It was made of dark wood, like the rest of the furnishings, and was surprisingly heavy when Clint pushed it open. The room inside was larger than he’d expected, stretching back into the hill itself. There were a few windows towards where Clint was stood. There was a huge stone chimney breast in the centre of the back wall, with an alcove on either side. There were bookshelves lining one side of the room. Several sofas and chairs had been arranged around the chimney breast and fireplace. Krista was playing on the rug in front of the fireplace. Thankfully, somebody had put a grate up against.

“Hey kiddo!” called a voice from one alcove.

The alcoves were shadowier, the light from the candles and the fire not quite reaching them. Clint was beginning to miss electricity. Still, only one person called Clint ‘kiddo’.

“Will!”

His cousin got up from his chair and came over to hug him. Then the welcomes poured in. Grampa Conall and Grandma Carina hugged him, various uncles said hello and Aunt Miriam, who was a little terrifying, offered him some vodka. He declined. Jem waved over from where he was sat at a table with Chick and Heck before lost the arm wrestling match against Chick. Barney was sat with Aaron, leaning over to read something.

“Clint, Clint, Clint, Clint, Clint! You’re here! Hey Clint!”

Kenny was practically bouncing around him, like an overeager puppy. Albeit a twelve-year-old puppy that was almost as strong as Gretel.

“I’m here! When did you get here?”

“I don’t know. Come sit with me!”

“Why don’t you both come sit with me?” asked Will.

The pair of them trotted over to the left alcove. This one had a pair of armchairs and a small bookshelf somehow crammed into it. Kenny climbed into one chair with his book and Clint climbed onto Will’s knee. It was just because there wasn’t a third chair, not because he wanted to sit on Will’s knee. Babies like Krista sat on people’s knees because they wanted to.

“Did you get homework for over the holidays?” asked Will.

Clint nodded glumly. Holiday homework should have been made illegal years ago. Logically, he knew Hansel and Gretel had even more homework than him, since they were doing their NEWTs this year. But he still didn’t want homework.

*

Two hours or so later, Grandma Carina stood up.

“Bedtime, I think for you Clint. Krista went an hour ago.”

“But I haven’t had tea.” said Clint, scandalised. “And it’s only nine o’clock.”

“I’ll have Kinney bring you some sandwiches. And nine o’clock should be your bedtime. Now off you go.”

Barney looked up from whatever he and Jem were doing.

“I’m pretty tired, I’ll come up with you.”

Clint sighed and trundled after his brother and grandmother. They headed up the staircase, stairs squeaking with every step the brothers took. Grandma Carina swept up the stairs and turned left, leading them deeper into the hill. The corridors were lined with portraits of previous Moodys, each one with autumn leaves behind them.

“Who are these?” asked Barney as he stopped to look at one.

They all had plaques underneath them. One woman, who had the same hair and nose as Gretel, had one proclaiming her to be ‘Lily Moody, First of her Name’. She had a bow in her hands and a curved knife tucked into her belt.

“She’s cool.” decided Clint. “She’s using a longbow though. Grandma, did I tell you I brought my bow?”

“No dear, you didn’t. These are former heads of our House, Barney. They were rulers of this land centuries ago. Lady Lily built Underhill. It was much smaller then. Harder for Muggles to find.”

Clint looked at as many portraits as he could. Most of them looked a little like him, with the same dirty blond hair and blue-grey eyes. A few looked more like Heck and Gretel with black hair and brown eyes. There were none with ginger hair or light blue eyes like Barney though.

“This is your room.” said Grandma Carina. “And Barney, this is yours. Right across from each other. I’ll send sandwiches up.”

Clint went into his room. His suitcase had been unpacked, the clothes folded away neatly. The bow case however, lay untouched on the chest at the bottom of his bed. His double bed. Which was clearly far better than his single in Manchester. After a bit of rooting through the drawers and wardrobe, he found his favourite pyjamas. He pulled them on and hurried across to Barney’s room, wincing at the cold floor on his feet. He didn’t bother knocking on Barney’s door, meaning he got an eyeful of Barney’s lower half.

“Ew!”

“Dude!” yelped Barney. “Close the door!”

Clint turned, closed the door and screwed his eyes shut. After a few seconds of rustling, Barney tapped his shoulder.

“You can turn ‘round now. Seriously though, you gotta start knocking.”

“We never knock at home.”

“That’s ‘cos it’s only us and Uncle Alastor. Here there’s others.”

Clint hopped onto Barney’s bed, also a double, and looked around. It was almost the mirror of Clint’s room, except Clint’s room was a dark red and Barney’s was brown. They both had stone fireplaces though, which Clint already knew he wasn’t going to be allowed to use. Barney hopped onto the bed next to him.

“Whaddya think of Underhill?” he asked, sprawling out.

“It’s dark. I don’t like it.”

Barney laughed. He reached an arm over to Clint, slowly enough for him to notice, before hoicking him downwards. Clint shrieked as Barney started tickling him.

“Ass!”

A loud crack stopped them mid-wrestle. They untangled themselves and sat up. A small house-elf was stood in front of them, bearing a silver tray with sandwiches.

“Masters Barney and Clint?”

Her voice was thin but very clear. She put the sandwiches down on the bedside table and detailed which ones had which filling.

“Are you Kinney?” asked Barney.

“I am, Master Barney.”

“Thanks for the sandwiches.” said Clint. “Could you light my fire in my room? I’m not allowed. I’ll show you which room it is.”

Kinney giggled. “I know which room it is, Master Clint. I’ll have it done.”

“Thanks ma’am.” said Clint.

Kinney disappeared with another loud crack. Clint then climbed over Barney to get to the sandwiches. Barney grumbled about asking and let out a particularly loud ‘oof’ when Clint elbowed him in the stomach. Accidentally of course. Mostly. Sort of. It was entirely deliberate. They wolfed down the sandwiches.

“Night.” said Clint, hopping off the bed and heading to the door.

“Night kid. Hey, if you get cold you can come in here.”

Clint nodded. “Thanks Barney.”

Barney nodded. They both knew there was no chance Clint would get cold with a fire in his room. But neither of them ever really said the word ‘nightmares’ out loud. Clint didn’t really know why but that was what the family did.

*

21st December 1973: Barney- 13, Clint- 9

 

Clint padded downstairs fully dressed and hungry. Barney had already been gone when Clint woke up. He did bump into Chick though.

“Hey Chick. Do you know where I can get breakfast?”

Chick gave him a grin. It was a little too manic for Clint’s tastes.

“Come on, it’s this way.”

Chick led him off along the corridor. Clint was pretty sure this wasn’t the way to the ground floor, especially when they stopped at stairs that were going up.

“I thought the kitchen was on the first floor.”

“We’re on the first floor.”

“The ground floor.” corrected Clint. “Look, Chick, I think I’m just gonna go downstairs and have a look around. Or I might ask Kinney.”

Chick whirled on him then. “No, let’s go upstairs. That’s where breakfast is. Come on man, don’t you want to see the roof?”

“Clint!” someone shouted.

Clint turned to see Gretel hurrying down the corridor. She came to a stop in front of them.

“Why don’t you come with me and I’ll show you where the kitchen and dining room are.”

Gretel grabbed Clint’s head and dragged him in the other direction. She pointed out her room, Uncle Alastor’s and Will’s. Chick’s was at the opposite end of the mansion, meaning he had to pass the Old Man’s room to get to it.

“Do me a favour, don’t be anywhere alone with Chick. Come on.”

Clint didn’t question the order, instead trotting along after her. The kitchen was through one of the doors he’d passed last night. It had a door leading to the outside of the house and large windows, allowing the morning sun to shine through.

“Hey kid.” said Barney from his seat at the kitchen table.

He had a pair of boots on that almost certainly didn’t belong to him and a hoodie that did. Jem was sat next to him, tugging a set of wellies on. Clint grinned over as Grandma Carina began cooking him a full breakfast. Hansel was there, cleaning a shotgun. Krista was sat next to Grandma Carina.

“Hey kiddo. You gonna watch me train your brother later?”

Barney and Jem groaned at the same time.

“Come on Hansel, it’s Christmas.” said Jem. “You’re the worst.”

“You’ll thank me when you beat the crap out of Mulciber. Clint, get some boots on. Will’s giving you a guided tour of the estate.”

Will himself appeared a few minutes later, while Clint was midway through his breakfast.

“It’s terrifying how fast you eat.” said Will cheerfully.

Clint gave him a broad grin, mouth still full. Will asked after everyone else’s whereabouts. Jason and Kenny had gone to the nearby village for supplies with Uncle Kenneth and Max. Aaron was still asleep. Uncle Douglas had gone out the night before and still wasn’t back. Adrianna and Max were coming around the estate with them, and William, Will’s father and possibly the least imaginative of the entire family, was still down in London working. Miriam was drinking in her room, Heck was being creepy somewhere.

When Clint had finished his breakfast, he found a pair of boots that fit him and followed the older cousins out. In the daylight, it was much more obvious that the house continued into the hill itself. It was also much more obvious that Underhill was in a valley. Clint could see the lake had frozen over. Will, Hansel and Gretel took him, Barney, and Jem over to a white-washed barn nearby. Gretel

“Here we go. Jem, go with Gretel.” ordered Will. “Hans, take Barney. Clint, you’re with me.”

“For what?” asked Barney.

Gretel answered by dragging the barn door open. Inside was a collection of brooms, including Barney’s prized Silver Arrow and Jem’s less prized Moontrimmer. There was even a broom sized for nine-year-olds, which Clint eagerly hopped on. The grounds were even bigger than Clint had expected, though it was a little difficult to see some of it since Will insisted on flying right next to him. Barney, usually slightly overprotective, was convincing Hansel to race him.

“Come on. Just to the treeline and back. Loser pays the other a Galleon.”

“Done.” said Hansel.

“Do either of you even have a Galleon?” asked Will.

Hansel and Barney were already racing away. Will didn’t bother waiting for them. Instead, he led Clint away from the lake and back near the house. There was a collection of white-washed buildings nestled on the other side of the hill that had the house built into it. The village was to the east, five miles away Uncle Max said. And then there was the barn itself and a small flat field that had Quidditch hoops on it.

“That’s where they used to keep animals, but the Old Man sold them when he inherited.”

Clint frowned. “I wouldn’t have sold them.”

“Well, there’s wild ones. There’s a centaur herd about ten miles west of here but we don’t really interact with them. And there’s the deer and the non-magical creatures.”

“Can we try and find the deer?”

Will laughed. “Yeah. Maybe not on a broom though. Oh, they’re coming back.”

Clint turned to see Barney nudging ever so slightly ahead of Hansel. The two of them appeared to be bearing down on Will and Clint, instead of Gretel and Jem. Barney managed to reach them first, braking so hard, he almost fell off.

“Victory!” he laughed, lifting both his hands in the air.

Hansel scowled at him. “Fine, fine. I’ll pay you after Christmas.”

“Why?!”

“He doesn’t have any money.” said Gretel.

“What happened to the money the Old Man gave you on your seventeenth?”

“Spent it.”

Will looked like he was about to fall off his broom.

“Hansel, he gave you five hundred Galleons. How the fuck did you spend it all?”

“See the bike I got?”

“The Old Man’s going to kill you.” said Jem, eyes widening.

Barney held his hand up. “You got a grand when you turned seventeen?”

“It’s the Old Man’s tradition. You get five hundred when you turn seventeen. It’s about two and half grand in English Muggle money.”

Barney’s eyes had widened now. Clint could practically see him planning what he would buy. As for Clint, he’d probably buy a hawk. Or a dog. The rest of the tour was over pretty soon, since the fields had been left empty since the Old Man had inherited. There was a gym in one of the buildings but Hansel promised Barney and Jem they’d get to see it later. Both of them groaned.

“Hey, can we play Quidditch down there?” asked Barney.

Clint was more interested in setting up an archery range in one of the empty buildings but he could ask the Old Man over lunch. They headed over to the Quidditch pitch, which was so small it only had one hoop on each side. Hansel peeled off from the rest of the group, returning five minutes later with Jason, Aaron as well as a box with the balls in and Uncle Max to act as referee. Gretel and Hansel were made team captains. Hansel picked Barney, Aaron and Jem. Gretel picked Will and Jason and was stuck with Clint.

“So, no Seekers?” said Gretel. “Just a Keeper, two Chasers and a Beater?”

“Remember, we’re only playing until one.” said Uncle Max. “Aunt Carina wants us back for lunch then.”

There was a chorus of agreement before they started trying to divide the teams. Hansel refused to allow Jem or Aaron to play as Beater claiming that as he was on the Hufflepuff team as a Beater he was better, leaving them to argue over Keeper and second Chaser. In the end, they had to flip a coin. Aaron ended up as Keeper and Jem as second Chaser. There hadn’t been any question about what position Barney would play. Gretel was also a Chaser on the Hufflepuff team. Will had played Seeker but volunteered to play Chaser. Jason wanted to be Keeper.

“That means the baby has to be the Beater though.” said Jason.

He was only two years older than Clint but those two years made a difference when one of you was at Hogwarts. Clint scowled at him. Barney threw him a bat from the box.

“Batter up, kid.”

Clint snatched the bat out of the air and went over to his small broom. They weren’t using real Quidditch balls, instead using a rugby ball for a Quaffle and a football for a Bludger, both enchanted to act exactly like their magical counterparts. When Clint asked why, he was told it was easier to explain the Bludger landing in someone’s hedge if it was a football.

“Ready?” said Uncle Max. “Go!”

He launched the rugby ball into the air. Jem got the Quaffle/rugby ball first and hared off towards the goal. Jason caught it, sending it over to Will. Hansel smacked the Bludger/football into Jason’s stomach. Clint managed to get over to it though and hit it as hard away as far as he could. Will passed the ball to Gretel and she threw it through the hoop.

“One point to Gretel.” called Uncle Max.

Clint whooped. Then Barney got the Quaffle. He avoided Gretel and Will with equal ease and completely ignored Jem’s calls to ‘Pass it for fuck’s sake!’. He threw the Quaffle into the air and then smacked it into the hoop like it was a valleyball or whatever they were called.

“Fucker!” shouted Hansel. “I call dibs on him forever!”

Barney laughed. Clint narrowed his eyes. At first he had to focus on just getting the Bludger away from his teammates. He wasn’t great, meaning Jason got hit an awful lot. Gretel got hit twice but she was much better at avoiding the Bludger. After an hour or so of playing though, Clint was managing to aim the Bludger at the other team. Most of the time, especially when it was Barney or Hansel, they avoided the hit but he was still getting better. Hansel’s team had worked out that while Barney was rubbish at getting the ball off the other players, he was brilliant once he had it. Clint managed to deflect the Bludger away from Jason and then, as it careened towards him, smacked at his brother with all his might. He had hoped to hit Barney in the stomach or chest. He got him in the face. Barney dropped the Quaffle, understandably so, and clapped a hand to his nose.

“Time out!” shouted Uncle Max. “Barney, are you alright?”

Barney took his hand away from his nose. It was bleeding very heavily and one eye was starting to swell shut. Clint didn’t know if he should feel proud or ashamed. Barney gave him a bloody smile.

“That was an awesome hit.”

“The baby did that?!” said Hansel in disbelief. “Fuck that, I call dibs on both Barton boys forever.”

Gretel smacked the back of his head and Stunned the Bludger. They guided Barney down to the ground. Uncle Max fixed his nose and eye, before checking his watch.

“Well, it’s half-twelve now so pack up. Don’t groan at me, Hans. You’ve been playing for two hours and by the time we all get back up in the air, it’ll be one o’clock. Let’s go.”

Hansel ruffled Barney and Clint’s hair as they packed up.

“They should call you Trickshot,” he said to Barney, “for some of those stunts. You’re alright, for a thirteen-year-old.”

“What he means,” interjected Gretel, “is that you’re amazing. And every time you aren’t playing against him, he’ll be cheering madly for you. Probably chanting ‘Trickshot’.”

Barney blushed, his face matching his hair. Clint would have pointed it out but he didn’t fancy being tickled. As they trudged across the yard from the barn to the kitchen, Will bumped Clint’s shoulder.

“You fly pretty well too. Must be a Barton boy thing.”

Clint bit his lip to stop a stupidly big grin breaking out. Barney grinned over his shoulder at him.

Notes:

Hope you enjoyed it! As always, feel free to leave a review!

Chapter 8: Christmas

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

24th December 1973: Barney- 13, Clint-9

 

Clint took a deep breath as he drew his bowstring back. He was in one of the former barns, that he had converted into an archery range with Will, Hansel, and Barney. He was currently being supervised by Gretel who had an insanely cool crossbow.

“Lift your elbow, you’ll get more power.”

“Like this?”

“That’s it.”

Clint let the arrow fly and lowered his bow. He had hit the target, but landed on the blue ring.

“Dammit! I got a bullseye twice back home.”

“Beginner’s luck?” suggested Gretel. Upon seeing Clint’s face, she sighed and came over. “Don’t lower your bow until you hear the arrow connect to the target. Here, stand like this. No, back straighter. Yeah, exactly. Feet level. OK, when you release, only move your fingers. Move when I tell you to.”

Clint did as he was told. The arrow thunked into the target and when he was allowed to lower his bow, he could see it in the red. Not quite a bullseye, but still an improvement.

“Nice one. Want to go see how your brother’s getting on?”

“Definitely.”

Clint packed up his bow carefully and pulled his arrows out of the target. They headed out. A bird called somewhere high above. Clint could just about pick out its silhouette against the sun.

“What’s that?”

“An Irish phoenix. People used to think they only cried when someone was about to die. But apparently it’s before a storm.”

“What’s it doing in Scotland if it’s Irish?”

Gretel laughed. “Sometimes they come over here. That one’s been flying around Underhill since I was a kid. Mind the black ice.”

Most of the snow and ice between the four barns had been melted, either by spells or feet, leaving slush and the occasional patch of ice that had been smoothed by multiple feet and was now twice as slippery. Clint picked his way around it, trying not to be too jealous of the way Gretel flicked her wand and the snow and ice in front of her disappeared. He wanted a wand desperately but he had a bow, and that was just as cool. Even Jem said so.

From the outside, the training barn and Clint’s archery range looked identical. Both were whitewashed stone, with heavy oak doors. Inside however, they were completely different. Clint had three targets set up and nothing else. Except a tractor that nobody had ever moved. The training barn had a sparring ring, punching bags, and weights set up. Hansel was currently throwing Jem around the sparring ring while Barney worked on the weights. He didn’t stop when he saw Clint, but did manage a brief grin.

“Why is no-one spotting Barney?” asked Gretel.

Hansel looked over, effortlessly blocking a wild kick from Jem.

“He’s fine. Look see, he’s using the right weight set.”

Barney grunted. Clint assumed that was the extent of his conversation skills at the moment. Hansel turned his attention back to Jem. He’d closed in and was aiming a jab for Hansel’s stomach. Hansel caught his wrist and twisted it. Jem ended up kneeling on the floor, swearing up a storm.

“Hey.” scolded Hansel. “Clint’s here. Be nice.”

“Whatever.” replied Jem. “Let me go.”

“Forfeit.”

“Fuck off.”

“Nope.”

Clint ignored them and made his way over to Barney. He’d moved on from the weights and was now doing push-ups.

“It’s Christmas Eve.” he muttered when Clint sat down. “You’d think he’d be nicer.”

“He’s never nice.” replied Clint, equally quietly.

Barney let out a breathless laugh before rolling over and starting on sit-ups. Jem reluctantly forfeited the match and clambered out of the ring to stretch.

“Barney, start your cooldown stretches.” ordered Hansel.

Barney scrambled to his feet and began stretching. Clint was glad he wasn’t ten yet. The Old Man had said he had to start training when he was ten. Which was only in a few weeks. But Will was going to train him, so that balanced it out. When the cooldown stretches were finished, they headed back to the house. Much to Clint’s annoyance, he wasn’t allowed to fly now that snowstorms were an ever-present risk even though Barney was. Yes, Barney was three and a half years older and yes, he was a better flier, and yes, he only ever flew with an adult, but dammit that was not the point! They clomped into the kitchen, getting snow everywhere. Kinney was at the sink, washing dishes.

“Hey Kinney.” said Barney.

Clint blew on his hands to warm them up. It wasn’t very effective. They split up once inside the house, Gretel going to study, Jem and Barney to play pool in the games room they’d discovered, Clint going to watch and Hansel going to do whatever it was Hansel did when he wasn’t training. It definitely wasn’t studying.

*

25th December 1973: Barney- 13, Clint- 9

Barney woke up to a nine-year-old landing on his stomach.

“Come on! Come on! Let’s go!”

Barney groaned as he pushed Clint off him.

“Can you at least get dressed fir- oh you are dressed. Can you wait five seconds and let me get dressed?”

Clint sighed. “Fiiiiiiiiine.”

Clint’s idea of letting Barney get dressed involved throwing clothes at him, urging him to hurry up. Unsurprisingly, this did not help in the slightest. Barney finally finished dressing and then followed Clint out of his room. His younger brother was bouncing up and down, even as they went down the stairs which seemed like an accident waiting to happen. When they got to the living room, Barney laughed. The night before, it had been the same dark room it had been when they arrived, albeit with a ridiculously large pine tree that Uncle Douglas, Uncle Alastor, and Uncle Max had cut down. Now it had fairy lights strung along it, tinsel draped over every available surface and the presents took up half the room.

“Pretty!” exclaimed Krista as she charged in.

“Kris, wait!” said Uncle Douglas, scooping her up.

Jem was right behind his father and sister, eyes wide. The room was beginning to fill up. Clint took a seat as close to the presents as he could manage. Barney sprawled in one of the armchairs, Jem perching on it. Uncle Max and Adrianna drifted in a few minutes later, tailed by Jason. Since Jason’s dad had died years ago, he lived with Max, Adrianna and the twins. Barney was just glad he’d had a few days away from Hansel’s training in Manchester.

“Presents!” exclaimed Kenny, dragging Aaron in by the wrist.

Aaron managed to free himself from his twin and slunk into an armchair near Barney.

“He’s been driving me mad.”

“Clint tried to help me dress to get down quicker.”

Jem laughed. “See, Krista just hassles Dad. I don’t have to do anything.”

“Go fuck yourself.” replied Aaron.

Every adult in the room called, “Language!”

Uncle Alastor came down, with his mad eye. It still unnerved Barney sometimes to look at. And to know that Uncle Alastor could now literally see out of the back of his head. The Old Man was the last to arrive, an hour after everybody else. Clint and Kenny had taken it upon themselves to arrange the presents into separate piles for everybody. The Old Man lowered himself into the armchair Jason hastily vacated.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s open some presents!”

Clint, Kenny, and Krista let out an ungodly cheer and began to pass the presents to their intended recipients. There were a few confusing moments, given that technically there were two Williams and two Kenneths, even though two used Kenny and Will. Clint took over that side for Kenny.

“Hey Uncle William, this one’s for you!”

“This is my handwriting.”

“Why in the name of Merlin would you put ‘To William, love Dad’? It’s like you want to confuse us.” said Clint, sounding beyond exasperated.

Barney received his presents and started opening them. Most of them were normal, Honeydukes sweets and money from the older family members, a miniature replica of a Silver Arrow from Uncle Alastor, a pack of Frog Spawn Soap from Jem, a book on the history of execution from Heck, etc. Clint presented his present almost shyly. As shy was not an emotion Barney knew Clint could feel, he was instantly curious. When he opened the packaging, it was a silver chain with a silver ram’s head dangling from the end.

“I love it, kid. Thank you.”

Clint tried to seem unbothered but the effect was spoiled by the huge grin. Barney slipped it over his head, grinning down at it. It even had green eyes.

“Green for Slytherin.” said Clint, still grinning.

Then Barney opened Chick’s present. It was a knife, with a blade that curved upwards and an emerald in the hilt.

“Thanks.” said Barney, unsure what to do with it.

“Tell me you didn’t give a thirteen-year-old a sharp knife.” said Uncle Kenneth.

“No, it’s real.” said Chick. “It’s from my collection.”

Well, Barney was never going to the Prigusivac house ever. Miriam waved her hands.

“He’s so thoughtful, giving from his own things.”

Barney met Clint’s wide-eyed stare. He returned it with one of his own. Jem whispered ‘what the fuck’ quite clearly but the adults were too busy being unnerved by Chick to notice. Clint moved to open his own presents. He was just as pleased with his haul, including the Dungbombs Jem had gotten him, the book on birds of prey from Will, the lighter in the shape of a gun from Chick, and the book on jinxes and hexes from Uncle Alastor. Barney had bought him a stuffed hawk from one of the Muggle shops in London, Ham-something or other.

“Thanks!” said Clint, flinging himself at Barney for a hug.

Barney returned it, ruffling his hair. After the presents were opened, thankfully with only two more weapons being given as gifts and those to adults, they trailed into the dining room. The table was almost groaning under the weight of the food Kinney had prepared. Barney grabbed a seat in the middle of the table, Jem sitting on one side and Clint on the other. Will sat opposite Clint and Uncle Alastor opposite Barney. For a brief time, silence descended on Underhill as everyone began to eat.

*

Barney groaned as he lowered himself onto the sofa. He’d eaten far too much already but then Jem had dared him to see how many mince pies he could fit in his mouth. Clint had bet on three and Will on five so obviously Barney had had to prove them wrong and fit seven in. His jaw still hurt. Jem was resting his head on Barney’s stomach, his legs hanging over the arm. Clint was sprawled across Will and Uncle Alastor.

“My stomach.” mumbled Barney.

Jem grunted. Grandma Carina was wandering around, holding a plate of mince pies.

“If she brings that over here, I may throw up.” said Jem.

“If you do, aim at Clint. Little fucker said I could only fit three.”

“I know there’s some kind of joke there. I just need Hansel to help me out.”

“I think Hansel’s getting drunk in the village.”

After dinner, Hansel, Gretel, Uncle Douglas, and Aunt Miriam had headed off to the village. Since it was three-quarters of a mile away, Barney had concerns about how they would be getting home. And he was fairly sure the legal drinking age for Muggles was eighteen in Scotland. Will and Clint had found the bird of prey book and were now going through it together.

“Lucky Hansel.”

“He’s with Aunt Miriam.” Barney pointed out.

Jem waved a hand in a lazy gesture that could mean either ‘you have an excellent point’ or ‘I don’t care, I just want out of the house’. Barney was choosing to take it as the former. They stayed where they were for most of the night, moving only to go to the bathroom or to make forays into the kitchen. Kinney had given up trying to stop them getting the leftovers.

“Clint, Clint, Clint, Clint, Clint.” said Jem.

“What?!”

“Go get me a turkey sandwich.”

“Stick it up your arse.”

Barney let out a burst of laughter, as did Uncle Alastor. Jem looked mildly stunned, as if someone had hit him with a frying pan. Will appeared to be trying to look offended but was failing miserably.

“Clinton! Where are you learning that sort of language?!”

Grandma Carina was less impressed. Clint shrugged.

“Bobbi’s older brother or Hansel. I forgot which.”

“And who is this Bobby? He doesn’t seem like a good influence.”

Will grinned. “It’s OK Aunt Carina. He’d have learned it from Hansel anyway.”

Uncle Alastor laughed. “Leave it Mother. Bobbi’s a good girl.”

Clint was eventually bribed into getting Jem and Barney a sandwich. Kenny followed him so Aaron put an order in. As did Jason.

“We have a house-elf!” exclaimed Clint. “Ask Kinney!”

“S’more fun to ask you.” drawled Jem.

Clint scowled at him before stomping into the kitchen with all the indignation a nine-year-old could muster. Kenny mimicked him perfectly. Barney had almost forgotten the exchange and settled back into dozing in front of the fire when he got smacked in the face with cold turkey.

“Hey!”

Jem complained as Barney’s jerk upwards dislodged his head. Clint and Kenny were wearing identical grins as they pelted various cousins with cold food.

“I didn’t do anything!” protested Uncle Alastor as a Brussel sprout smacked into the side of his head.

Barney shoved Jem off him and ran towards Clint and Kenny. Kenny squealed and shot off. Clint was made of sturdier stuff however and lobbed stuffing at his older brother. Then he ran off. By this point, everyone under the age of 25 was joining in, even Will. Uncle Alastor had levered himself off the sofa to hunt down Kenny and Clint. After an hour of charging round the house, asking Kinney for ammunition when necessary, Barney managed to tackle Clint to the ground. Jason had grabbed Kenny. Aaron then shoved Jason over.

“Run Kenny, run!”

So Kenny took off. Clint elbowed Barney in the ribs and followed. Aaron joined in and they crashed off.

“Traitor!” shouted Jem, laughing.

“Gotta stick with your twin!” replied Aaron, voice drifting down the corridor.

Something warm and heavy landed on Barney. Barney crashed to the ground and rolled over to find Clint had waited above one of the doors and allowed himself to fall.

“Ass!”

Their fun was cut short when the Old Man saw the mess.

“WHAT IN MERLIN’S NAME HAPPENED HERE?!?”

And that was how Barney, Jem, Aaron, Jason, Clint, and Will spent the last few hours of Christmas cleaning the living room. Uncle Alastor was exempt because he was known as a sensible adult so when he told the Old Man he hadn’t been a perpetrator, merely a victim, the Old Man had believed him completely. Kenny was exempt because he did anything Clint or Aaron suggested. While they weren’t the worst role models to have, Barney figured there were probably better ones. Will was scolded and told ‘I expected better from you’ which didn’t seem to have much of an effect on him.

Notes:

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Chapter 9: Clint's Birthday

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

9th January 1974: Barney- 13, Clint- 10

 

Clint didn’t want to go to school. Alastor was aware of this because Clint had spent the entirety of breakfast complaining. Highlights had included ‘It’s my birthday for Merlin’s sake’, ‘we won’t even learn anything today, it’s only the second day back’, and the best one ‘Mom didn’t make me go to school on my birthday’. This was because Barney and Clint had been homeschooled. Alastor hadn’t bothered pointing this out, instead patiently nodding along. When Clint had cleared his plate, Alastor had told him to get his uniform on.

“This isn’t fair. It’s my birthday.”

“I’ve heard.” replied Alastor.

Clint’s scowl managed to deepen on the fifteen-minute walk to school. They took the long way around now, avoiding the road by the park. By the time they’d gotten to the school grounds, Clint’s glare was foul enough to rival a Basilisk. As they entered the playground, a small blonde child launched herself at Clint at full speed, hugging him enthusiastically.

“Clint! Happy birthday! Happy birthday!”

“Thanks!” replied Clint, all traces of his scowl vanished.

Susan, Bobbi’s mother, came over, smiling.

“We decided to give you your present at the meal, Clint.”

“You didn’t have to get me a present, Mrs Morse but thanks.”

Susan smiled as the school bell rang and Clint and Bobbi charged away. All of Clint’s presents were to be opened at the meal later. Alastor may not have been a Seer, but he knew the outcome of Clint opening presents right before having to leave them.

“Let me check I’ve got this right. After school, you’re taking those two back to yours to get changed. And then Will’s picking me up and we’re going to this Roadhouse?”

Alastor nodded. “A few other family members should be there. Cousins of mine, my younger brother Douglas and his daughter, my father and uncle, my grandfather.”

“Your grandfather?” asked Susan.

The playground was probably not the best place to tell her that wizards aged slower than Muggles, often living twice as long. Instead, Alastor settled for:

“He’s ninety. Tell him he looks younger and you’ll be his favourite person.”

Susan laughed and Alastor smiled. She knew about magic, an incident involving levitating bins, Bobbi, schoolyard bullies, and an incredibly clumsy explanation from Clint had seen to that. That was when the Improper Use of Magic Office had gotten themselves involved. Alastor had convinced the Old Man to pull a few strings and let Alastor explain the magical world to them. Bobbi had clear signs of magic, after all, so they would have had to go through the explanation in a year anyway.

“Well, I’m looking forward to seeing this Roadhouse. I’m not sure how we’re getting there though.”

“Apparition. Will will explain.”

Will was adored by Bobbi and Susan alike though Alastor suspected it was for very different reasons.

*

Bobbi was in awe of Clint’s house. It was the first time she’d ever been allowed inside and now she understood why. There were fridge magnets that moved by themselves, a dark mirror with shadowy figures that Clint scowled at, a torch-looking thing that Clint said knew when you were lying, and a host of other things.

“Come on, I’ll show you my room. Uncle, where did you put Bobbi’s clothes?”

“Your room.” replied Alastor, busy with the security alarm.

Clint led the way up the stairs. Bobbi paused, staring at the moving photos. There were a couple of a teenaged Alastor with both his eyes, with two younger boys and a girl.

“That’s my Uncles Jaime and Douglas. And that’s my mom. I think Uncle Alastor was fifteen when they took that.”

All four of them were on grass with a large tree in the background. Uncle Alastor and the second oldest boy, Jaime, were messing each other’s hair up. Clint really did look like his mum. Bobbi dragged her gaze away from the laughing siblings and followed Clint up to his room. It was a small room, smaller than Bobbi’s, with a guitar leaning against the wall. There was a Green Arrow poster plastered to the wall and a few moving photos of Clint with Will, or Barney, or Alastor. There was a damaged one in a frame, of a younger lady wearing a white dress and beaming up at a man. The man’s face had been burned off.

“Who’s she?”

“My mom. On her wedding day.”

“Can’t you fix it? Isn’t there a spell?”

Clint scowled. “I don’t want to fix it.”

Bobbi decided to drop that topic quickly. Clint never mentioned his dad. Bobbi thought maybe he was dead. She knew Clint’s mum was. The bed was made and Bobbi’s clothes were on top of it. A case was resting across the chest at the foot of Clint’s bed.

“That’s my bow. Do you want to see it?”

Bobbi did. The bow was black and curved at the end. Clint called it a recurve bow.

“Next time you’re over, I’ll show you how to use it. I’ll let you get changed.”

Clint ducked out. Bobbi changed quickly, practically dancing as she bundled her school uniform up. Her mum would tell her off for crumpling the jumper but she didn’t really care. When she was done, she waited for Clint to get changed. He came out wearing a black hoodie, jeans, and a purple T-shirt. To be fair, that was what Clint wore whenever he didn’t have to wear his school uniform. Oh, and the Green Arrow costume for Halloween and fancy-dress parties.

“We’re ready.” bellowed Clint as he thumped down the stairs.

Bobbi was quieter as she followed. They waited in the living room while Alastor found his wallet and changed. There were more photos above the fireplace, of Clint’s mom on her wedding day with a man who looked like Alastor. There was a baby picture of Barney, still with the bright red hair, and a few other baby photos.

“That’s Jason. He’s Uncle Jaime’s son but he lives with my grandma and granddad now.”

“What happened to your Uncle Jaime?” asked Bobbi curiously.

“He died.” replied Clint. “The guys who attacked us got him.”

“Oh.”

There was a photo of Jaime when he was younger, leaning against Alastor. There was a photo of Barney, three boys, and a girl. They were laughing wildly and one boy, the one that looked like Clint, was trying to get a piggyback off Barney.

“That’s Barney’s friends at Hogwarts. That’s Jem, my cousin. He’s Uncle Douglas’ oldest. Krista’s his little sister. That one’s Akihiro, that’s Karla, and that’s Gabriel.”

“Do I have to remember all this?”

“Nah.” replied Clint. “Will remembers it for me. He can remember for you too.”

“That’s nice.”

Alastor reappeared. He explained Apparating to her, held her hand and Clint’s and then they were gone. It was the most horrible feeling Bobbi had ever, like she was being squeezed through a tube. When she landed, she staggered and tried very hard not to be sick. Clint was taking a few deep breaths.

“I hate it too. Barney vomits every time. It’s hilarious.”

“Clint.” said Alastor.

“Well it is.”

“I’m glad you find your brother’s suffering so entertaining.”

“Uncle Douglas says you laughed ‘til you cried when Uncle Jaime vomited over himself in front of a girl he liked.”

Alastor paused, as if considering. Then he shrugged.

“Wait until Barney does something stupid in front of a girl he likes.” said Alastor.

Clint grinned. “Barney does plenty of stupid things.”

Bobbi turned to look at their surroundings. The Roadhouse was by a busy roundabout but there were very few cars pulling into the car park. There were very few cars in the car park, full stop. It looked like an American-style diner with ‘Harvelle’s Roadhouse’ written above the door in bright lights.

“Come on.”

Alastor led the way across the car park, Bobbi and Clint close behind. The walls were lined with booths and there were normal tables further in. There was a snooker table in the right-hand corner and a bar taking up the back wall.

“That’s our table.” said Alastor, nodding to one of the booths.

There were a couple of people already sat in the booth. There were two women, one older lady with grey hair, one elegant woman about Alastor’s age, and four men of varying ages. One was very old, another was grandfather-aged and two were around Alastor’s age. Bobbi recognised the youngest as Clint’s Uncle Douglas from the photos.

“They brought Krista?” asked Clint, looking at a small girl.

“Yes, they brought Krista. Your Uncle Douglas couldn’t leave her at home by herself.”

“Bet he would.” muttered Clint before saying, slightly louder, “Krista’s Jem’s sister.”

Krista was small and dark-haired, unlike Clint. One of the younger men and waved. Bobbi followed Clint as he was embraced by the various relatives.

“Introduce us to your friend.” rumbled the oldest man.

“This is Bobbi, she’s the best. Her mom’s coming down too, with Will. This is Aunt Adrianna and Uncle Max, they’re Hansel and Gretel’s parents, and this is Uncle Douglas, he’s Jem and Krista’s dad, that’s Krista but she’s a baby. And you know my grandma and granddad. And that’s the Old Man. My great-grandfather.”

“Call me Mr Moody.” said the Old Man.

“But that’s what she calls Grampa.”

“Call me Conall.” said Clint’s granddad, winking at her.

Bobbi grinned. They rearranged themselves in the booth so Clint was in the middle, Max on his left and Bobbi on his right, leaving room for Will and Bobbi’s mum. A few minutes later, Will arrived with Susan. Susan gave a brightly wrapped parcel to Clint who thanked her again. Will dropped into the seat next to Bobbi, reaching across her to ruffle Clint’s hair. Clint batted him away easily.

“Happy birthday bird boy.” said Will, giving him another present.

“Thanks Will!”

A blonde lady came over, carrying a stack of menus. She passed them around, introduced herself as Ellen, and told them that if they needed anything, to give her a shout.

“How is the new apartment?” asked the Old Man.

“Blew up.” replied Will glumly. “Turns out my neighbour was trying to hatch Ashwinders.”

“Where are you living now?” asked Adrianna.

“Staying at Ethan’s. Hunt’s. My boss.”

Alastor snorted. “Stay at ours. The house is up for sale anyway.”

“It’s what now?” said Clint from behind the menu. “And can I have a burger?”

“Yes. We’ve talked about this Clint. Yesterday in fact. When I said we wouldn’t move far so you could still go to school with Bobbi.”

“Good.”

Douglas called Ellen over for them to order. Once that was done, the conversation split again. Will was telling the Old Man, Conall and Alastor about his work, Douglas was focussed on stopping Krista from running off, and Adrianna and Max were asking Clint and Bobbi about their schoolwork.

“I like maths.” said Bobbi. “But Clint says Hogwarts is really different.”

Adrianna and Max both widened their eyes at the same time, giving Clint cautious looks. Clint looked momentarily embarrassed.

“Well, Uncle Alastor told me I could tell her. Bobbi’s magic too.”

Their faces cleared and Adrianna leaned forwards.

“What magic have you done?”

Bobbi held her hand out and concentrated as hard as she could. Blue flames sprang to life in her palm, warm but not too hot.

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” said Adrianna. “That’s Cold Fire. You can keep them in a jar, you know. Very useful when it gets cold.”

Bobbi stared down at the flames. It didn’t seem quite possible but then again, this was magic. Anything could happen with magic. Max began telling her about Hogwarts. Adrianna had gone to a different magic school, one in Scandinavia called Durmstrang. Bobbi and Clint leaned forward to listen to Max, eyes going wide. The burgers arrived and they began to eat.

“These are the best burgers ever.” said Bobbi.

Will laughed. “I think we need the American’s vote on that. What do you think Clint?”

Clint swallowed his mouthful of burger.

“It’s amazing.”

“Good shout?”

“Good shout.” confirmed Clint around another mouthful of burger.

When they’d all finished eating, Ellen came out, carrying a birthday cake with candles. Bobbi gleefully joined in singing ‘Happy Birthday’ as Clint turned red. The cake itself had a bright orange bird on it. Adrianna called it a phoenix. The phoenix actually flew as well, from the cake to the candles. It didn’t even melt in the candles, just caught fire and continued to fly.

“Remind me to put that out before it burns the Roadhouse down.” said Ellen.

“Whoa.” said Bobbi.

“Make a wish.” ordered Krista.

Clint closed his eyes as he blew the ten candles out. Krista led a round of applause. Clint opened his presents then, while they were eating cake. He laughed delightedly at the Manchester City scarf Bobbi had gotten him. Bobbi then had to explain football to the Old Man and how Manchester City was the best team ever. While she was explaining this, Clint opened the present from Will. It was another hoodie. Clint did not need another hoodie in Bobbi’s opinion but at least it wasn’t black or grey. It was a nice blue, the same as Alastor’s mad eye.

“Thanks Will!”

When they’d finished the cake, the entire group left the restaurant. Alastor was telling Adrianna about a viewing he and Clint had in a week for a new house. The Old Man was questioning Will about the ‘incident’ at his flat.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Grandfather. The flat’s gone. And so’s most of my stuff. I lost my favourite suit.”

“It’d be cool if Will moved in with us.” said Clint. “You could come round to mine instead of me having to come round to yours all the time.”

Bobbi smiled over at him. “That would be pretty cool.”

Notes:

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Chapter 10: Babysitting

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

31st June 1974: Barney- 13, Clint- 10

 

Barney was in hell. He had to be. Uncle Alastor had made him babysit. Manchester’s magical side was nowhere near as big as London’s so Barney had had to improvise. Which amounted to ‘take the kids to the park and buy them ice-cream’. The plan had been updated to include ‘stop Clint from angering a goose and stop Bobbi going for a swim in the boating lake’. And then Will had arrived and bribed him to babysit a small Russian girl as well.

“Who is she?”

“Natasha. Her dad’s a pri- important man in the Russian ministry.”

“Great. Does she speak English?”

“I have little English.”

“There you go!” said Will triumphantly before disappearing.

“Will! Dammit. Do you want an ice-cream?”

“Ice-cream?”

Barney pointed to the counter with the different types of ice-cream. Natasha’s face lit up and Barney reluctantly dug his money out. Natasha picked her flavours and came skipping back to the table. Clint reappeared, ordered his own ice-cream and greeted Natasha. It was like watching a puppy meeting a friend it had met once before. Bobbi was a little more reserved but was still polite. When Natasha had finished her ice-cream, the three of them went to play football on the path by the lake. Barney was so glad there was a fence by the lake.

“Can we go on the boating lake? Please Barney?” asked Bobbi when the three of them trotted back to his table.

“Please?” asked Natasha.

“No. Maybe tomorrow.”

Clint chewed his lip. “If you take us all on the boating lake, I won’t tell Uncle or Will about the magazine under your bed.”

Barney choked on his hot chocolate. “Hey, who wants to go on the boating lake?!”

There was a chorus of cheers and a snort of laughter from the elderly couple sat nearby. Barney spoke to the rental guy and had a brief discussion about how he could totally be trusted with three kids. It was fine. They found a boat big enough to fit them all, and the cricket bat and ball Bobbi’s mother had provided them. Barney was concerned about having to play cricket. Mainly because he had no idea what cricket was. Bobbi promised to teach the Barton brothers but since Mrs Morse had looked very sceptical, Barney wasn’t holding out much hope.

“This is fun.” decided Bobbi.

She wasn’t rowing. Barney was. It was not fun. Clint was telling Natasha that that goose was the one with a vendetta against him. Except she didn’t know what vendetta meant. Neither did Clint, he’d just overheard Hansel complaining about Slughorn having a vendetta and liked the word. Barney was considering it a miracle he’d used the word correctly.

“Can I go?” asked Natasha, gesturing to the oars.

Barney agreed. Since she was sat furthest away from the oars, it led to a precarious moment when she climbed over Clint and Bobbi. Barney was half-expecting someone to end up in the lake. Probably him. It would be fitting. The goose would probably mistake him for Clint and attack. Barney came out of these thoughts when he realised Natasha, Clint, and Bobbi had gone quiet and were staring at a point on the lake. Barney turned his head to follow their sight line and swore. The oar was drifting away, precariously near a swan.

“Motherfucker.” said Natasha. “I like this word.”

“Of course you do.” replied Barney. “You can say it to your father and start another war.”

Speaking of war, Barney was surprised he’d been allowed to look after three kids unsupervised. He decided it said something about his combat skills. He’d been allowed to progress up to sparring with Hansel. Not with Gretel, he was nowhere near that level of skill.

“We’re stuck.” said Clint.

“I hadn’t noticed.” replied Barney.

“There’s always the cricket bat.”

Bobbi was holding the bright pink cricket bat out, as if Barney hadn’t noticed it. Sarcasm didn’t always work on ten-year-olds. Or Russians.

“Why not?” asked Barney, grabbing the bat.

It was a lot more difficult with a cricket bat, mainly because it was smaller and Barney was deeply concerned he might drop that. They made slow progress back to the miniature dock, with Clint giving constant updates of the goose’s position.

“They all look the same, how can you possibly tell which goose it is?”

“It gives off an air of menace.”

That was a phrase Uncle Douglas had used to describe Chick. And Hansel. And Jem. And even Aaron, which was stretching it a bit since he was only going into third-year this September. Barney was going into fourth-year and still hadn’t been told he had an air of menace. Which peeved him slightly if he was being honest.

“That’s bullshit.”

“You did not hear that from me.” said Barney.

“Motherfucker.” contributed Natasha.

“Merlin.”

“Benny said it.”

Benny was her eighteen-year-old brother, built like a brick wall and currently the coolest Muggle Barney knew. Mostly because of the muscles. They were getting nearer the dock. The rental guy was squinting over at them, clearly trying to work out if his eyes were playing up or if the oar had been transformed into a pink plastic cricket bat. When Barney got to the dock, he urged the kids out first and then scrambled out.

“Er… the oar’s by the island. One of the kids dropped it.”

The rental guy sighed. “You said you could look after them.”

“Well, we didn’t drown.”

“Or get killed by a goose.” said Clint cheerfully.

Barney urged his brother away before the vein in the rental guy’s forehead actually burst.

“Can we play cricket now?” asked Bobbi hopefully.

“Remind me how we do that.”

The rules, when explained by a ten-year-old, were fairly simple. Hit the ball with the bat. Catch the ball with your hands and try not to swear because it turned out Natasha could hit that thing really hard. Clint and Bobbi were on one team, and Barney and Natasha were on the other. As they had no real way of keeping score, the victorious team was a hotly contested debate throughout the game. Clint managed to hit the ball into a tree, looking extremely pleased with himself as Barney considered how the fuck he was going to climb it. The solution was clearly to delegate.

“Clint, you’re up bird-boy. You’re better at climbing.”

Clint clambered up the tree. There was an outraged squawk followed by a thump.

“Aw ball, no.”

“Clint?”

“Hang on. Aw bird, no.”

Clint?”

A few seconds later, Clint slithered back down the tree, clutching the ball. He had twigs in his hair, bird shit on his hand, and his shirt was torn in three different places.

“Do you want me to get rid of the bird stuff?” asked Barney, doing his best to stop himself laughing.

Those magazines were a powerful threat.

“I know we call you bird-boy but seriously?”

“Shush you.” said Clint.

Barney Vanished the bird shit and took the ball back. The next ball hit Barney in his own balls, which led to a long list of swearing. Bobbi was very apologetic and offered to buy him ice-cream when she had some pocket money. Natasha picked up on almost all of the words, which was going to make a fantastic impression on her father.

*

 

 

After the cricket game, Barney guided them back to the café. The rental guy was glaring at them. If he squinted, Barney was pretty sure he could see the oar on the little island in the lake. Clint collapsed in a chair. Bobbi and Natasha sat on either side of him. Barney ordered more ice-cream and came and sat opposite Clint.

“When do you go back to Russia?”

Natasha frowned. “I think on three days?”

“You can hang out with us!” said Clint.

Barney suddenly saw his next three days filled with cricket. The kids, when they’d eaten their ice-cream, ran out to play football. Clint reappeared to beg Barney to join in and play goalkeeper. Barney, because he was an idiot, did. Goal was a pair of trees that Barney had to linger in. It was every child for themselves and Barney was no expert in Muggle sports but he was pretty sure you weren’t allowed to shove your opponent over. Clint kicked the ball into Barney’s twice, out of sheer spite it felt like. Bobbi was winning, mostly because she always looked like she was aiming for Barney’s groin which made him flinch. He felt this was reasonable. Then Clint hit him there for the third fucking time.

“You little shit.” yelped Barney.

He leaned against the tree, taking several deep breaths. Holy shit, how did his mom go through childbirth twice? This was hell and only lasted a few minutes. Clint’s birth had taken five hours. Five hours of this. When Barney had recovered enough to walk, he threw himself after Clint with a vengeance. He planned to dangle him upside down for at least a minute. Possibly tie him to a tree with his shoelaces. Uncle Alastor and Will returned just as Barney was dangling Clint over his shoulder. He was holding him by the ankles and Clint’s head was somewhere around Barney’s hips. They were both laughing and Natasha and Bobbi were both demanding a turn.

“I leave you alone for one day.” said Uncle Alastor’s voice, sounding more amused than anything.

“Hey Uncle Al.” said Clint. “What did we have for breakfast this morning?”

“I had porridge. You told me it looked like sick.”

“It’s him.”

It had become a habit, to ask each other defining questions. Barney had been lectured on Polyjuice Potion by Uncle William at least three times and Clint had been told by Chick. Barney put his little brother down, avoiding dropping him on the head. Uncle Alastor took one look at their torn clothes and shook his head. Barney could practically hear the ‘I’m not even going to ask’ crossing his mind, even if he wasn’t a Legilimens. Will just looked vaguely resigned. Uncle Alastor spoke to Natasha in Russian. Will held his hand out to her and she grabbed it.

“Goodbye motherfuckers.”

Will and Uncle Alastor looked at Barney in disbelief. Barney managed a weak smile. Will and Natasha Disapparated. They dropped Bobbi at home and began to walk back to the house.

“Nice hat, Uncle.” said Barney.

Uncle Alastor grinned. “Well, it doesn’t scare the Muggles.”

He was currently hiding his mad eye with a bowler hat and was dressed in a suit. He must have been dealing with Muggles today.

“Did you have a good day?” asked Clint.

“Romanov’s an arsehole.” growled Uncle Alastor. “But he’s important.”

“Natasha’s cool.” decided Clint.

Notes:

Hey, sorry this chapter took me so long to add!! It's been exam week at uni :/ Don't forget to review!! :D

Chapter 11: Ice-Cream

Chapter Text

10th July 1974- Barney: 13, Clint: 10

 

Today was a good day, in Clint’s opinion. Sure, Bobbi was back in Manchester and Natasha was in Russia but Clint was in Florean Fortescue’s Ice-Cream Parlour with Barney and Jem. And Will would be finishing work earlier than usual and was taking them for a meal as an early celebration for Barney’s birthday.

“Do you think I could beat Black in a fight?” asked Jem.

Barney asked which Black. From what Clint had overheard from the adults, Jem got into a lot of fights at Hogwarts, despite Barney’s continued attempts to restrain him.

“The Gryffindor. Paddy, or whatever Potter calls him.”

“Padfoot I think.” replied Barney. “Hey, is that Gabe?”

Clint followed Barney’s gaze. He’d met Gabriel once at King’s Cross last year. Jem leaned across the table, ignoring Barney’s protests and banged on the window. Gabriel waved when he saw them and dragged the two boys he was with into the shop.

“Shift up kid.” said Jem.

“Don’t call me kid.” replied Clint automatically, even as he wriggled up to the window.

Barney rolled his eyes. He did that a lot around more than one Moody. Gabriel stopped at the counter while the youngest boy and the middle one came over. The middle one looked vaguely familiar, dark-haired, pale and roughly the same age as Barney.

“Hey, you’re Aaron’s mate right?” said Jem.

“Yes. I’m Gadreel.”

Ohhhh. That explained it. Aaron only had three friends, and since one of them was his own twin it didn’t really count. The other was Mary or Marta or something. Both boys were wearing robes, while Gabriel was wearing jeans and a shirt with a very loud pattern. None of the Moodys wore robes, except when the Auror members had official hearings to attend.

“Hey guys.” said Gabriel, reappearing bearing three ice-creams.

“Any of those for your brothers?” asked Barney.

Gabriel scoffed. “No.”

“Mercy Lewis.” said Clint.

Barney and Jem laughed. Gabriel ordered Gadreel to get ice-creams for himself and his younger brother.

“Barney, gimme twenty Knuts. Please.” said Clint.

“Why?”

“I want another ice-cream.”

“One the size of twenty Knuts?! No!”

“Why not?!”

“Because.”

Clint pouted. Barney stared him dead in the eye for all of five seconds before passing him two Sickles.

“Get me and Jem one each as well. No walnuts for Jem.”

Clint grinned and slithered out of the booth. He headed to the counter to the sound of Jem arguing with Gabriel about something. Once his orders arrived, he was faced with an interesting dilemma. How to carry three ice-creams in two hands.

“Do you want some help?” asked Gadreel from behind him.

Clint jumped. “Don’t sneak up on people!”

“I apologise.”

“Yeah, I’d like a hand.”

Gadreel gave the younger brother his own ice-cream and sent him back to the table. Clint handed him Barney’s ice-cream and the pair of them went back to the table. Clint handed Jem’s over to him.

“You moved. Why did you move?”

“Gabriel wanted the window.” said Barney. “Jem kept leaning over me to talk to Gabriel.”

“Oh.”

The youngest brother, who still hadn’t introduced himself, was also next to the window. Clint carefully clambered into his seat, passed Jem his ice-cream and started attacking his own. Gadreel mumbled something as he thrust Barney’s ice-cream at him.

“Thanks.” replied Barney. “Clint, don’t think I didn’t see you pocket the change.”

“Ass.” replied Clint, reluctantly returning it.

Barney smirked at him. Gabriel and Jem were talking about pranks Gabriel had pulled and fights Jem had been in. Clint turned to the younger brother.

“What’s your name?”

“Castiel Novak.”

With that, he went back to staring at the table. Clint scowled at him before turning to look at Gadreel.

“Are you in Hufflepuff with Aaron?”

“I am.” said Gadreel. “We have the same dorm.”

“Is he a good dorm sharer? Uncle Kenneth is always telling him off for being messy.”

Gadreel laughed. “The house-elves tidy up after us. But he is pretty messy.”

Clint could believe that. “Have you met Kenny?”

“I have. He was showing me his rock collection.”

Jem snorted. “Right. Did you have fun pretending to actually be interested?”

“I didn’t have to pretend.”

Jem raised an eyebrow. It was rare anyone stood up to Jem when he started snapping. Barney looked between the two, his own eyebrows up around his hairline.

“Bullshit.”

“Unlike you, Kenny’s actually interesting.”

Silence fell on the table. At least until Clint said, “Holy shit”. Jem’s hand flexed but before anything could start, Barney had dropped a hand onto Jem’s arm.

“Don’t.”

Jem rolled his eyes. Clint turned to Gadreel, wide-eyed. Gadreel had relaxed fractionally but he kept glancing at Barney. Clint couldn’t understand why. If anyone was going to start a fight, it was going to be Jem, not Barney. The door to the ice-cream parlour chimed open.

“Are you going up to Underhill this summer?” asked Gabriel.

“Yeah.” said Jem. “A whole fortnight of doing nothing.”

“Nothing for you.” replied Barney. “I’ve got Quidditch drills. You’re gonna help me, right Clint?”

“Depends. Can I throw a ball at your head?”

“No.”

“I’m gonna do it anyway.”

“I know but I had to try.”

A new person joined them at the table. It was Will, in robes. It took Clint a moment to recognise him. His face was drawn and he sat down next to Barney silently, without even a ‘hello’.

“Did you have a hearing today?” asked Barney.

“No. We… found Benjy Fenwick. Or part of him anyway.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

Will didn’t seem to hear him. He was staring at the leftovers of Gadreel’s ice-cream.

“I had to tell his boyfriend.”

“Fuck.” said Jem. “You need like eight drinks.”

Will managed a laugh. Sort of. ‘Laugh’ was generous. Barney looked helpless so Clint reached over to pat Will on the head.

“Thanks Hawk. I have to go and tell his mother now.”

“Why can’t the boyfriend?” asked Gabriel.

Will said, “We don’t want to cause unnecessary grief and stress in this difficult time,” with the air of someone quoting something he’d heard a thousand times and didn’t fully agree with. “Be careful out there kids.”

With that, he pushed himself up from the table and left. Jem sighed.

“Fucking war. Fucking Death Eaters.”

The mood had been killed and they clearly weren’t going for a meal later. Barney’s hand had gone to his hip, just briefly. Clint knew he had a knife there, mostly because he was there when Uncle Alastor made him wear it.

“We’ll get a meal.” said Barney, flashing an empty grin at Clint. “I found an American diner in the Muggle part in June. You and me kiddo, real burgers, milkshakes.”

“Done.” said Clint, mimicking Barney’s smile.

Chapter 12: Diagon Alley

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

24th July 1975- Barney: 15, Clint: 11

 

The owl carrying Barney and Clint’s Hogwarts letters arrived halfway through breakfast. Well, Alastor, Will, and Clint were halfway through breakfast. Barney had been awake for three hours and was outside in the back garden. When they’d moved into the house, they had set up a Quidditch hoop, which had started life as a Muggle basketball net. The Quaffle was a basketball and occasionally Clint volunteered to act as Beater, mostly so he could throw cricket balls at his brother and not get into trouble.

“The owl’s here.” said Alastor.

Will reluctantly left his breakfast and went to let it in. While he had the window open, he shouted for Barney. Barney, predictably, ignored him. He tended to get that way when he was practising. Will shook his head, shooed the owl away, and ducked back into the kitchen. He tossed the letters to Alastor. Clint, cheeks bulging with uneaten food, reached to grab for his letter. Alastor, with the ease of several years’ practice, lifted the letter above his head.

“You’ll get grease stains on it.”

Clint said… something. It was difficult to tell with the sheer amount of food in his mouth.

“Close your mouth when you eat.” scolded Will. “You can read it when you’ve finished eating.”

Clint’s chewing became frantic. Will and Alastor exchanged entertained looks. Will headed outside to snatch Barney’s attention. Clint, having drained his glass of juice in one long swallow, eagerly grabbed his letter. He opened it and began to read it aloud. Thankfully, the Muggle telephone rang before he got past ‘Headmaster Albus’. Alastor went to get it.

“Moody residence.”

That was apparently how Muggles answered the phone, according to Susan Morse.

“Alastor, there is an owl in our kitchen.”

“Ah, Bobbi’s Hogwarts letter is here then.”

Before Susan said anything, there was a chorus of wordless yelling from Alastor’s kitchen. He waited for a moment but no words emerged. With a roll of his eyes, he cast a soundproofing charm with a flick of his hand.

“Sorry about that, one of the boys is murdering the other.”

“I’m shocked.” replied Susan. “Why is Bobbi’s letter attached to an owl?”

“Owl mail.”

Susan seemed to take a deep breath. “Alastor, I know you think that’s helpful but it isn’t. What is owl mail?”

“Wizards send letters attached to owls.”

“I suppose pigeons went out of fashion. Just, come and calm the damn thing down, will you? It’s defecated all over the sofa. And the letter itself makes no sense.”

“I’ll be over immediately.”

“Stop the fratricide first.” replied Susan, a touch of her usual good humour returning.

Alastor laughed and hung up. As he removed the charm, the yelling hit him in full force, only slightly diminished. The kitchen was chaos. Barney was dancing around in circles, Clint hanging off him like an overgrown monkey. Will was as useless as ever, laughing so hard he was in tears.

“Would somebody like to tell me exactly what is going on?”

“I’m Quidditch Captain!” said Barney.

His grin was ear-to-ear. Alastor congratulated him, making a note to buy Barney a new broom when they went to Diagon Alley.

“Get dressed, I’m going round to Bobbi’s to deal with the owl. Then we’ll go to Diagon Alley.”

*

Clint was practically bouncing when Uncle Alastor finally returned. Bobbi and Mrs Morse were with him and even Ben, Bobbi’s older brother.

“Hey Ben.” said Barney, the tips of his ears turning red.

“Hi. Wanted to see this magic stuff for myself, you know?”

Bobbi hugged Clint. Then Will took Barney, Clint and Bobbi’s hands while Uncle Alastor got Mrs Morse and Ben. They Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron. While Barney was vomiting, Will explained to Mrs Morse and Ben what had just happened and how they could convert their Muggle money into magical money.

“Come on, I’ll take you to Gringotts, the bank.”

“There’s only one bank?” asked Ben.

His question went unanswered as Uncle Alastor tapped the central brick. The bricks fell away, revealing Diagon Alley to the Muggles. It had stopped amazing Clint ages ago but Bobbi had never been before.

“Wow.” said Bobbi. “It’s amazing.”

It was also packed. There were a few nervous people, wearing Muggle clothing, but most were wizards with their robes. Will took Ben and Mrs Morse to the bank, leaving Barney, Bobbi, and Clint clustered around Uncle Alastor. He had his normal eye on the lists they’d made and his mad eye darting around the crowd. When Will returned with the other two, he was promptly sent off to the apothecary. Ben tagged along with him upon hearing the magical kids had to have robes.

“Which shop is the best for that?” asked Mrs Morse.

She had a tight grip on Bobbi and Clint’s hands while Barney loped ahead.

“Madam Malkin’s.”

The outside of Madam Malkin’s shop had posters of three Death Eaters pinned up on it; Fenrir Greyback, Azazel Helson, and Laufey Jotun. Clint shivered as he went past. There were two boys already inside Madam Malkin’s. One with short dark hair and another smaller skinny one with floppy blond hair.

“Hey.” said the brunet. “I’m Bucky. This is Steve.”

Steve lifted a hand. Clint genuinely feared he might fall over.

“Clint. This is Bobbi and Barney.”

Barney was seen to first out of their group. Steve plucked at his robe. The spindly woman next to him had to be his mother. They had the same fine blond hair, the same concerned look, and both looked like they needed a couple of Kinney’s meals. The woman who looked like Bucky was reading a Muggle newspaper.

“So, are you just starting too?” asked Bobbi.

Steve nodded. “Do you think it’ll be a problem that we’re norm- Muggles?”

“Muggle-born.” corrected Barney, muffled through the robe being pulled over his head. “Dyer’s Twelve, I can put a robe on!”

Bobbi ignored the last part. “Clint says it doesn’t. I’m a Muggle-born too.”

“There’s lots of Muggle-borns.” said Clint. “It doesn’t make a difference to anyone with a lick of sense.”

He didn’t mention Death Eaters.

“What about people without a lick of sense?” asked Bucky.

Clint shrugged. “Jinx ‘em.”

“Clint.”

“Fine. Get Jem to jinx ‘em.”

Uncle Alastor rolled his mad eye and went back to discussing prices with Madam Malkin.

“Have you converted your pounds?” asked Bobbi. “We did it at that big white building, Gringatts.”

“Gott. Gringotts.”

“Shut up Clint.”

Bucky and Steve looked at each other. It was the same kind of look Clint and Barney used to share when someone asked where their bruises came from. It was the sort of look you had when an uncomfortable topic had been brought up and you really wanted it to go away.

“Do you know about the Houses?” asked Clint. “Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and… what’s that other one Uncle? Slimy, Slithery…”

“When I get out of this robe,” threatened Barney, “I’m gonna shove a Bludger’s bat right up your-”

“Barney!” rumbled Uncle Alastor. “That is enough. And Clint, stop winding him up.”

Barney scowled, his ears turning red. Clint mimicked the scowl.

“The other House is called Slytherin.” said Clint. “That’s the one my brother’s in.”

“Oh.” said Steve, looking far more relieved. “What’s the difference?”

Clint told them the basics of what he knew, corrected by Barney. Steve perked up at the mention of bravery.

“Can anyone get in? Even if you’re not strong?”

“Steve, no.” said Bucky. “C’mon, I can’t keep hauling your skinny arse out of fights.”

“I’ll help.” volunteered Clint. At a stern look from Uncle Alastor, he corrected it to, “My cousin will help.”

“Jem?” asked Bobbi.

“Who else?”

“Aaron?” suggested Clint. “Jason doesn’t like fighting. He’s boring.”

“Sensible.” said Uncle Alastor.

Clint heaved a sigh. Bobbi was next to be fitted, with Barney coming over to say hi to Bucky and Steve properly.

“If anyone gives you sh… a hard time, tell Clint. He’ll tell me and I’ll deal with it. Especially if they come from Slytherin.”

Steve and Bucky were finished and their robes were paid for while Clint was being fitted. When he emerged from the mass of black fabric, they’d both gone. Will and Ben had returned, carrying two cauldrons and apothecary supplies.

“There are beetle eyes in this bag.” said Ben, sounding pained.

“I’ll take Clint and Bobbi to get a wand.” said Uncle Alastor. “Will, Barney, put those in the rooms.”

Mrs Morse and Ben came with Uncle Alastor, Clint, and Bobbi. Bobbi had grabbed Clint’s hand so they didn’t get separated. They came into Ollivander’s shop. Clint had never been in before and he wasn’t sure he wanted to come back. Ollivander had pale silver eyes that never seemed to blink. Bobbi tightened her grip on his hand.

“Ah Mr Moody. I wondered when I would be seeing your youngest nephew. I was sorry to hear about your sister. Ah, Edith. Ash and unicorn hair, quite pliant. If I had known what Harold would do with the wand I sold to him… blackthorn and-”

Uncle Alastor’s voice was rough. “I know what his damn wand is made of. Get on with it.”

Clint felt his jaw tighten. His dad’s wand had been given to his great-aunt on that side, a mad old woman who still owned a townhouse in Oxford somewhere and believed his dad had done ‘what he should’. All his dad’s possessions had been given to her, even the things that had been his mom’s once.

“Yes of course. And this is your niece? No, surely she’s too young.”

“My friend.” said Clint. “Bobbi.”

Ollivander handed a wand over to Clint, rambling on about its properties. Holly and phoenix feather and Clint took out three shelves when he flicked his wand. Ollivander hummed and grabbed another.

“Silver lime and dragon heartstring. Suited to those skilled in the art of Legilimency.”

Clint set fire to the till. He apologised for it, but that wand was very quickly removed. They went through five more wands before Ollivander handed him one that sent warmth down his body.

“Dogwood and unicorn hair. Capable of great mischief. I recommend you watch this one, Mr Moody.”

Uncle Alastor paid and tugged Clint backwards. The first wand Bobbi picked up sent sparks out of the tip. Clint thought she’d have to try at least one more but apparently that was it.

“Red oak and phoenix feather. Seven Galleons.”

“I’ll pay.” said Uncle Alastor.

Before Mrs Morse could protest, Uncle Alastor had paid and whisked them out of the shop. Bobbi was admiring her wand.

“The letter says they can take a toad?” said Ben. “Why would they take a toad?”

“Can I have a cat, Mum?”

“Not with a dog in the house.”

“The cat could stay with us in the holidays!” said Clint.

Uncle Alastor rolled his eyes but agreed to house the cat. If Clint treated it as his. Barney and Will met up with them mid-argument.

“Can I have a cat?” asked Barney innocently, widening his blue eyes.

Will rolled his own. “Great. Two cats.”

The group went into Flourish and Botts, list of books ready. Barney volunteered to help Bobbi and Clint, if the adults wanted a coffee. They agreed and left quickly.

“I know what you’re doing.” said Clint smugly.

“I’m helping you find books.”

“No, you’re buttering up Uncle Al.”

“Uncle Al?” said Barney, sounding amused. “Is that a thing now? You’re going the wrong way.”

“Am not.” said Clint as he turned around.

Barney rolled his eyes and herded them to the Transfiguration section. While Bobbi was hunting down A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration and Barney was looking for Teacups to Toadstools: A Complete Guide, Clint walked into someone. As in literally bounced off them. In his defence, he’d been looking for the book he and Bobbi needed. When he stumbled back, he found himself looking up at a blond-haired, snooty-faced boy about the same age as Barney.

“Sorry! It was an accident, I swear.”

The boy’s annoyance melted and he smiled.

“You look like Chick. Are you his brother? Hick? Heck?”

“I’m Barney’s brother. Heck looks like his dad.”

Barney arrived then, three books in hand.

“Clint, who are- oh. Hi Lucifer.”

Lucifer gave Barney a cold smile. It looked cold anyway. Barney dumped the books in Clint’s arms then folded his own. He’d gone tense.

“I had no idea your brother was starting Hogwarts this year. Ah, and is this your sister?”

Bobbi had appeared. Clint took a step closer to her. Lucifer reminded him of Chick, with that strange smile that didn’t reached their eyes.

“Clint’s friend. Is Gabe around?”

“No, just me and Castiel.”

Clint had met Castiel two weeks earlier in Fortescue’s. He was still wearing robes and looked deeply annoyed with the world. Clint would hate to have to wear robes 24/7. Lucifer was in a Muggle suit.

“What’s he wearing?” hissed Bobbi.

“Robes. You’ve seen the Old Man wearing robes.”

“He’s like ninety, I thought he was a bit batty.”

The hushed conversation evidently wasn’t as hushed as either of them would have liked as Barney looked despairing and Lucifer had raised an eyebrow.

“Are you a…”

“Muggleborn.” said Barney sharply.

Lucifer’s smile was still empty and cold.

“I see. Come along Castiel.”

Castiel’s eyes had widened. Barney steered Bobbi and Clint through the shop, picking up the rest of the books they needed. Barney was still tense, his jaw tight. If it wasn’t for the mullet, he’d look an awful lot like their dad. Clint never said that though.

*

Once the books were bought and the adults found, they went to the Magical Menagerie. Bobbi and Barney immediately went to coo over the cats with Ben and Susan. Will went to look at the fire crabs. Uncle Alastor sort of lingered at the till, scaring the poor witch behind it. Clint went to the back, where the birds were. And there he found it. The most beautiful creature in the world.

It was a bird. Well, bird was pushing it. It was a small ball of grey fluff, with long yellow feet the size of its body, a pair of black eyes, and a razor sharp yellow beak. Clint was in love. It looked so pathetically lonely, crouched in the mass of twigs. Clint hurriedly rushed over to Uncle Alastor and tugged him back.

“Please can I have it? Please? Please? I’ll never ask for anything ever again until I’m seventeen.”

This was all delivered in a very low voice so he didn’t scare the baby bird.

“It’s ten Galleons.” said Uncle Alastor. “And I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Please?”

“Fine. You can have the ugly bird.”

“He’s adorable.”

Uncle Alastor fetched the witch on the till who reluctantly said the bird wasn’t for sale. Clint could feel his heart breaking. As in being cracked into two.

“But it says ten Galleons!”

“He’s been reserved for Abraxas Malfoy.”

“I’ll pay twenty Galleons.” said Uncle Alastor firmly.

“I’m sure Mr Malfoy can wait.”

With that, Clint had a baby sparrowhawk. He’d also corralled Barney into returning to Flourish and Botts with him so he could buy a falconry book. Barney had a grey tom that he named Trick and Bobbi had a ginger kitten that she called Huntress. Clint, after a long debate, named his hawk Ronin.

*

Alastor leaned against the kitchen door and watched his youngest nephew chatter excitedly to the grey fluffball. While chopping raw chicken very finely. Alastor refused to get a blender specifically for chicken for a bird.

“That just seems cannibalistic.” said Barney from his spot on the kitchen island.

Not sat at the island on one of the available stools. No. Sat on the island. That Alastor had cleaned that morning.

“Well I can’t go and buy a blackbird, can I?” argued Clint.

Barney, stumped by this eleven-year-old logic, shrugged and went back to cuddling his kitten. Which was also sat on the kitchen island. The fluffball was also on the kitchen side. Alastor was creating a new rule.

“No pets on the kitchen surfaces. Or the table. Move them. Now.”

Barney jumped off and sauntered into the living room. The kitten was now on his shoulder, clinging on for dear life. Clint complained more but relented and moved the fluff onto the chair, still talking to it.

“Merlin, I’m going to regret this.”

Notes:

Whoo!!! I finally published another chapter!!

Chapter 13: Hogwarts Express

Notes:

Thank you all for your lovely comments!!! I'm glad you guys are enjoying this!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

1st September 1975: Clint- 11, Barney- 15

 

Clint was still feeling nervous about Hogwarts. Sure, it sounded great but it was a long way from Manchester and Uncle Alastor. He didn’t tell anybody though, instead triple-checking that he’d packed everything, that his bow case was secure and his targets were rolled up at the bottom of his trunk. Ronin went in a makeshift sling since he wasn’t old enough to go in a cage. Barney had suggested that but Clint had smacked him.

“Are we ready?” asked Uncle Alastor, heading off the fratricide.

The three of them, and the Morses, had come down to London the day before and stayed at the Leaky Cauldron. Apparently, Barney didn’t want to throw up on the first day back. Wuss. They got three taxis to King’s Cross. Uncle Alastor led the way to the wall between Platforms 9 and 10.

“We have to run at a brick wall?” asked Bobbi.

“I’ll go first.” said Barney with that superior air only an older sibling could pull off.

He rushed to the wall and skidded through. Ben swore. Clint filed the word away for later use and followed his brother. Bobbi came through a minute later, followed by Ben and Mrs Morse and Uncle Alastor. The platform was full and in the space of about three minutes, Aaron and Uncle Kenneth had appeared.

“Alastor! Good to see you!”

Bobbi nudged him. “Who’s he?”

“Grampa Conall’s brother. Old Man’s other son.” muttered Barney.

Aaron gave Clint and Bobbi a wide smile.

“Come on, we’ll get your trunks on the train.”

Barney grumbled but grabbed Clint’s case.

“Can we help?” asked Bobbi.

“No.” ordered Barney. “Grab Jem if you see him.”

Since Uncle Douglas had never been early for anything in his life, including dropping his son off at the platform, Clint didn’t bother keeping an eye out. Chick came over, Heck flanking him and their mom, Aunt Miriam, crying again.

“If anyone gives you any problems for being a Mudblood, tell me and I’ll slit their throats.”

“Thank you, Chick.” said Uncle Kenneth, looking mildly irritated.

Chick made comments like that if the food was late at a restaurant so it had stopped bothering Clint. Bobbi on the other hand, looked terrified.

“They’ll tell me.” snapped Barney.

“Barney’s Quidditch captain this year.” said Uncle Alastor.

Uncle Alastor was boasting. Clint knew this because he had the same faint smile Clint’s mom used to have when she boasted about Barney getting into the Quidditch team at twelve or Clint’s high score on his math test.

“Well done.” said Uncle Kenneth, beaming. “You clearly take after your Uncle Jaime.”

As if on cue, Jason appeared with Grandma.

“Who takes after Dad?”

“Barney’s Slytherin Quidditch captain.” bragged Clint.

Jason grinned. “That’s brilliant! Dad was the Slytherin Quidditch captain. Where do you play?”

“Chaser.”

“Dad was Seeker. Really good. We’ve got trophies at home.”

“You’ll have to show me at Christmas.”

Jason’s smile widened. From what Clint knew, he spent next to no time at all around other Moodys, not even the two in his House.

“Get on the train.” ordered Uncle Kenneth.

Jason hugged their grandma and then disappeared into the crowd. Barney hugged Uncle Alastor as did Clint.

“Bye Uncle!” shouted Clint as he followed Barney to the train.

Barney showed them to the carriage where he’d stored their trunks and Huntress and then left. Clint settled himself onto a seat and dug out his carton of Ronin’s food from his backpack.

“What are you even feeding him?”

“Chicken. Yes, I know it’s cannibalitic.”

“What?”

“I dunno, Barney said it.”

*

Dean bit his lip as he glanced in a compartment. This one, like the last six he’d looked in, was full of older students. He’d been kicked out of an empty carriage by some Slytherin students. One of them spotted Dean and came out.

“First-year?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll show you a first-year compartment.”

He pointed Dean to the end of the carriage, even carrying his trunk for him while Dean carried his cat carrier. The boy pushed the compartment door open, storing the trunk in the luggage rack. Dean put the cat carrier down on the seat, next to another.

“He’s a first-year.”

With that, the older boy left, leaving Dean stood there looking at two other eleven-year-olds. The girl had long blonde hair, tied up in a ponytail. The boy looked a lot like the boy that had helped Dean, with spiky dark blond hair and blue-grey eyes. Both of them were wearing jeans, so Dean felt a little less out of place.

“I’m Bobbi Morse.” said the girl, smiling. “He’s Clint Barton.”

“Dean Winchester.”

Clint sat up a little more, careful to not dislodge the bundle he had against his chest.

“Like John Winchester?”

“He’s my dad.”

“He works with my uncle and cousin. In the Auror department.”

Bobbi laughed. “And your other uncle. And your other uncle. And your uncle.”

“Think you missed an uncle.” replied Clint, half-grinning. Seeing Dean’s confusion, he said, “Most of my mom’s side work in the Auror department. Alastor Moody?”

“Oh, Dad’s mentioned him a couple of times.”

Dad had called him ‘that paranoid fucker’ but Dean saw no reason to share that. As the train began to pull out of the station, a pair of dark-haired boys and a redheaded girl joined them. They introduced themselves as Frank Castle, Benny Lafitte, and Charlie Bradbury.

“How do they decide what House we go into?” asked Bobbi.

Clint shrugged. “How the hell should I know?”

“Because you’re a pure-blood?”

“Yeah, neither of my parents told me jack. Barney said something about wearing a hat. And the others won’t tell me anything.”

“You’re a pure-blood?” asked Charlie. “Your mum and dad are both magic?”

Clint ducked his head to fuss at whatever was in the sling. Dean’s curiosity got the better of him and he had to ask what was in there. Clint very gently slid his hand into the sling and pulled out the ugliest bird Dean had ever seen.

“What the hell is that?” asked Benny.

“What’s its name?” asked Frank.

“Ronin. He’s a sparrowhawk.” said Clint. “I adopted him from the Menagerie in Diagon Alley.”

“Had they sold out of cats?” asked Benny, eying the ‘bird’ with a hint of fear.

Clint rolled his eyes. Bobbi reached over to swat at Benny.

“Can you pass me the feed?”

“Come on, we just made new friends and you want to scare them off?”

“Shut up Birdie.” replied Clint lightly.

Bobbi rolled her eyes at Dean and clambered onto the seat. She pulled out a Tupperware box full of… raw meat. The smell was disgusting.

“Why?” asked Benny.

“It needs food!” argued Frank.

Clint pulled out the food and began to feed the… bird. It was a messy and disgusting process and even Clint had his nose wrinkled. Bobbi had delicately covered her nose and mouth. When it was done, Clint wiped his hands clean on a towel before shoving it into a plastic bag.

“I hate watching you do that.” said Bobbi.

“Yeah, I know.”

The train ride passed quietly from then, although Dean, Benny, and Frank bought half the trolley when it came through. Charlie and Dean started playing Exploding Snap. Dean had never played before but Charlie had bought a deck in Diagon Alley.

*

The sun had almost set when a group of older students came to their carriage. One of them knocked and stuck his head round the door. He was broad-shouldered, already wearing his robes with a badge pinned onto them. There were three boys and a girl behind him, but only the short boy with the lollipop was paying attention to them.

“Hey chickenbutt. We’re coming up to Hogwarts, get changed. And give me the damn bird.”

“Wait, what?”

“You have to row across the lake to get to the school as a first-year.”

“Will you look after him?”

The boy closed his eyes. “I’ll get Kinney to do it. She can come into Hogwarts.”

“Alright.”

Clint gently handed the bird over to the redhead. The older boy cradled it and put the sling on. He ruffled Clint’s hair and left. Bobbi absently sorted Clint’s hair out. The girls changed first while the boys waited outside and then swapped. As they got off, Clint flashed Dean a grin. The boats could only fit four at a time so Clint, Bobbi, Benny, and Frank climbed into one while Dean got in with Charlie and a black-haired boy called Castiel and a brunette girl called Laura.

The journey across the lake was pretty tame, considering that no-one in Dean’s boat had ever rowed before. Dean could have sworn he saw something move beneath the water. When they reached the shore, they were greeted by a stern-faced witch. She looked disappointed with them already.

“I am Professor McGonagall, teacher of Transfiguration and Head of Gryffindor House. Come along for the Sorting.”

Clint dropped back to walk next to Dean.

“What is this test?” asked a small blond boy.

“Can’t be anything bad if Chick passed it.” muttered Clint.

Bobbi snickered, earning her a glare from McGonagall.

“This way please.”

Dean followed the other first-years into the hall.

“Whoa.”

It was huge, with floating candles below a ceiling that reflected the sky. There were four long tables, each with a long flag over them. Dean spotted the boy that had been into their carriage. He was slipping onto the green-and-silver table from a side door. He accepted a few fist bumps and grinned at something a boy opposite him said.

“Wait, there’s a hat on that stool.” said Charlie. “Was your brother being serious Clint?”

Clint ran a hand through his hair. “You have got to be kidding.”  

Notes:

I was going to add the Sorting into this chapter but it was getting a bit too long so that's next chapter.
Let me know what you think!!

Chapter 14: Clint's Sorting

Chapter Text

1st September 1975- Clint: 11, Barney: 15

 

Gadreel watched the queue intently. He could pick out Castiel, talking softly to a redhead girl. Aaron was sat next to him, craning his neck to see his younger cousin. Jem was leaning forwards too, taking an uncharacteristic amount of interest. Gadreel could see Barney slipping in from a small side door next to the Slytherin table. He sat between Akihiro and Gabriel. Gadreel looked away quickly before he could be caught staring.

“There he is!” hissed Aaron.

Jason was also watching, further down the table where the first-years would sit. The first name called was Bruce Banner, a small mousy boy wearing glasses too big for him. The Hat shouted for Ravenclaw. The blue-and-bronze table cheered and Banner went to join them.

“He has to be next, right?” said Jem. “Banner, Barton.”

“You’re so impatient.”

“Barnes, James!”

A dark-haired boy walked forwards, dropping onto the chair. The Hat stayed quiet for a very long time.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The boy headed over to their table. Jem had dropped his head to the table.

“Why? Fucking Sortings.”

Aaron caught Gadreel’s eye and rolled his own at his cousin’s dramatics. Gadreel felt his mouth twitch upwards, but he stopped himself from laughing. Then it was Clint’s turn.

“Barton, Clinton!”

There were a few whispers at the surname but most of them were quiet. The Hufflepuff table said next to nothing, fully aware they were sat next to three Moodys, two of them temperamental. Gadreel guessed most of the Slytherins would be quiet too, especially near Chick or Barney. The boy was a few inches taller than he had been when Gadreel met him in the ice-cream parlour. He lowered himself onto the stool, looking over to the Slytherin table.

*

Clint put the hat on his head and waited. He wasn’t sure how it worked but he certainly hadn’t expected a voice to whisper inside his head.

“Ah… a Barton. And so soon. Now, where to put you? Slytherin, like your father? You’re certainly ambitious enough. Resourceful too.”

I’m nothing like my father thought Clint resentfully. If I’m Slytherin, I’m Slytherin like my brother.

“Loyalty. And determined to work until you get what you want. Hmm, yes. I know just where to put you. HUFFLEPUFF!”

Clint took the Hat off and got to his feet. He glanced at the Slytherin table on his way to Hufflepuff. Barney had slumped down, looking fed-up. Clint didn’t blame him. He’d wanted to be in the same House as Barney since Barney had gone to Ilvermony.

“Welcome to the best House!” called Jem.

Aaron grinned at him and Clint returned it. He sat near Jason, not close enough to look nervous but close enough to send despairing looks should the need arise. The next girl was already on the stool.

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

The girl bounced off her chair and headed over to the table. She gave Clint a shy smile as she sat down. Clint returned it. The Sorting dragged on. Frank got into Hufflepuff, sitting next to Clint and bumping his shoulder. Benny went to Slytherin and Charlie to Ravenclaw. Then it came to Bobbi.

“Morse, Barbara!”

Clint sat forward, fingers crossed. Bobbi sauntered forwards as if it was just her in the room. She sat down, put the hat on and waited. And waited. And waited. Eventually, the hat opened the rip in its brim.

“RAVENCLAW!”

Clint sighed. Bobbi took the hat off and headed to that table. She sat next to Benny, behind Clint, facing his back. He barely noticed when the next boy joined Hufflepuff, sitting next to the first girl. He was lost in trying to work out how much time he would get with Bobbi when he heard a surprising name.

“Romanoff, Natasha!”

*

Barney was disappointed when Clint didn’t join Slytherin. In truth, he hadn’t been sure Clint had even remotely enough self-preservation for Slytherin. He knew he was loyal enough for Hufflepuff. Then Barney hoped Bobbi would join Slytherin. She had more about her, and was cunning enough to avoid any punishment for whatever the hell the pair of them had done in their final year of primary school. Nobody had been able to get any straight answers out of them but somehow all the bins had ended up on the school roof and the gates wouldn’t open for teachers’ cars.

“Morse, Barbara!”

“Isn’t that the girl I saw you with in Flourish and Botts?” asked Lucifer.

“Little young for you, isn’t she Moody?” sneered Mulciber. “Unless that’s how you like them.”

“That’s just you.” replied Akihiro. “Since everyone else says no to you.”

“Aki, not now.” replied Barney.

“RAVENCLAW!”

Oh for fuck’s sake. Barney had been about to complain, especially with the way Clint’s shoulders slumped, but then he saw Natasha. Which wasn’t right. She was supposed to be starting at Durmstrang. Unless she was severely lost. Which was possible. A scrawny blond kid got Sorted into Slytherin but Barney paid him no attention.

“Romanoff, Natasha!”

Clint’s head snapped up. Barney watched, craning his neck to keep track of her small form. She sat on the stool, chin high. Almost as soon as the Hat touched her head, it screamed out her House.

“SLYTHERIN!”

Barney cheered with the rest of his House. Natasha walked over to the Slytherin table. Barney held his hand out for a high-five as she walked by.

“At least one of you got into the right House.”

She laughed at that, the same as when Barney got hit in the balls during cricket. Barney let her go and she went to sit with the other first-years. There were only three left to be Sorted now.

“Stark, Anthony!”

That got Slytherin excited. Son of Howard Stark, noted Slytherin, and Maria Black, a family that had almost no non-Slytherins. Anthony seemed fully aware of the attention, strutting like a peacock to the stool and Hat. He donned it with a flourish that made most people laugh. Barney had expected the Hat to do a similar thing as with Natasha, declaring Slytherin the minute the cloth touched her head. But no. It took six minutes, Gabriel timed, for the Hat to decide.

“RAVENCLAW!”

There was a loud murmur from the Slytherins and a louder cheer from the Ravenclaws. Stark sat down next to the first kid that had been Sorted. Samuel Wilson was much easier to Sort, going into Hufflepuff almost immediately. Then there came the kid Barney had seen in Clint’s carriage.

“Winchester, Dean!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The boy headed over and Barney felt his jaw tighten. Potter and Black were welcoming him with slaps on the back and cheers. Dumbledore gave his usual speech about adversity and unity and then the food appeared.

“Finally!” said Gabriel as he began to pile his plate.

Gabriel should have been three times the size he was in Barney’s opinion. When the eating had slowed down to a reasonable pace, the talk turned to families like it did every year.

“Hey, didn’t my little brother meet you in the robe shop?”

The scrawny kid nodded. “Yes. I’m Steve Rogers.”

The kid’s plate was piled pretty high and Barney had spotted some of it going into his pockets. He didn’t judge, he’d been tempted to do the same at Ilvermony. He’d have a word with him, tell him he didn’t have to go hungry here. Unless the kid planned to send some home. That was a thought that hadn’t occurred to Barney.

“Natasha Romanoff.”

“That’s a nice accent.” drawled Benny Lafitte, another first-year.

“Russian. My father sent me here to better my English.”

That was a lie, Barney would bet his Arrow on it. Natasha glanced at him before turning her attention back to Steve.

“I’m Pepper.”

“I’m going to try out for the Quidditch team this year.” said Regulus from further down the table.

“What position?” asked Barney.

Regulus grinned. “Seeker.”

From there, Barney got involved in a conversation involving Quidditch. The Montrose Magpies had beaten Gabriel’s Puddlemere United and Barney planned to hold it over his head for eternity.

Chapter 15: First Week

Chapter Text

2nd September 1975- Clint: 11, Barney: 15

 

Clint was midway through breakfast when Professor Sprout handed him his timetable.

“Thanks Professor.”

She smiled at him, passed Frank his timetable, and carried on down the Hall.

“What’ve we got first?” asked Frank.

Clint glanced down. “Double Potions with H Slughorn.”

Frank pulled a face. They finished eating and headed down to the dungeons. Several Slytherins were already there, including Natasha. She was talking to a blond boy and redhaired girl so Clint didn’t interrupt. He did lean on the wall next to Benny.

“Hey brother.” said Benny with an easy smile.

“What’s Slughorn like?” asked Frank. “He’s your head of House, right?”

“We didn’t talk to him. He just gave us timetables.”

A fat, bald man came hurrying down the dungeon’s corridors.

“So sorry I’m late. Come in, come in!”

Clint grabbed a seat on the same table as Benny and Frank. Natasha was sat next to the blond Slytherin boy she’d been talking to, and Sam Wilson, Castiel, and Laura Bishop.

“I am Professor Slughorn, your Potions teacher for this year. Now, I see some familiar names on this register.” He swept the classroom with a beady eye, landing first on Castiel. “Now, you must be Castiel Novak. How is your brother Michael?”

“He’s very well, thank you sir.” replied Castiel. “He’s just started working for the Minister for Magic as his junior assistant.”

“Very good! He was always a clever lad. And you must be Natalia Romanova, daughter of Ivan, no?”

“That is correct, sir. I did not know you knew my father.”

Slughorn laughed half-heartedly at that.

“Well, official functions and the like. And I know many people who work alongside your father.”

Then he looked at Clint.

“Ah, you must be Barney Barton’s beloved brother!”

“Yessir. Clint, sir.”

“One of my best students, your brother. He’ll go far, I have no doubt. And how is your great-grandfather? I received word from Kenneth that his health was less than ideal.”

“The Old Man’s fine. Sir. Just a cold. It went away within a week.”

“Ah, good. And the rest of your family? How are they? Young William as I recall had a particular aptitude for Potions.”

“Still working as an Auror, sir. Like most of them.”

He wanted to bring up his father, just to wipe the smug look off Slughorn’s face. But that would backfire on Barney too. Slughorn smiled and turned back to the class.

“Today, we shall start working on a simple potion. The Cure for Boils. Whoever creates the best potion will win… this large bag of pick and mix sweets from Honeydukes.”

Murmurs burst out. Benny whistled under his breath. Frank nudged Clint.

“What’s a Honeydukes?”

“Sweetshop in the village near here.” replied Clint. “Really nice sweets.”

“Legendary sweets.” corrected Benny, eyes fixed on the bag.

Clint shared a glance with Frank. They dug out their Magical Drafts and Potions followed by their apothecary kits. Benny got to work right away, crushing snake fangs. Clint tried to crush the fangs, he honestly did, but one sort of flew out and across the room.

“Shit.” hissed Clint.

Frank was trying, and failing, not to snicker.

“You hit Castiel in the head.”

Clint glanced over to see Castiel glaring at him, along with the rest of his table. Natasha looked unimpressed. Clint managed a weak smile. Benny sighed, loudly.

“Here, take one of mine. Go slower too. It’s not a race.”

Clint got to work again, going slower. He did eventually crush the snake fangs needed and added them to his cauldron. He heated the cauldron for a few seconds, removing it and leaving it to brew. He glanced at the clock and started writing the notes Slughorn had left on the board.

*

“By now, if you have brewed your potions correctly pink smoke should be rising.” said Slughorn.

Natasha glanced down at hers. Pink smoke was rising, but a little darker than it should be. Castiel’s was pink as was Laura’s. Steve’s was red but he squinted at it, as if that would somehow lighten the shade of the smoke. Sam sniffed.

“Where’s that smell coming from?”

The smell was awful and overpoweringly strong. Natasha spotted the source of it immediately. Clint was stood in front of a melted cauldron, staring at it in disbelief.

“Ah, what we have here,” said Slughorn, “is what happens when you add porcupine quills without taking the cauldron off the heat. Proof that one should always read the instructions!”

“It didn’t say that.” muttered Clint.

He said it quietly, but the classroom was quiet now the fires had been turned off and all students were paying attention. Slughorn bristled.

“I believe, Barton, it says there ‘remove cauldron from heat before adding quill of porcupine’. Do try and read things through.”

Clint flushed and his face grew sullen. Natasha glanced down at the writing. It was small and cramped. No wonder he’d missed a step. Frankly, only missing the one step was something he should be proud of, in Natasha’s opinion. She and Bobbi knew all about Clint’s difficulty with reading. Barney had done something with his books. She’d ask him about it at dinner. Slughorn had finished making his rounds while Natasha was lost in her thoughts.

“The winner of the Honeydukes bag is… Natasha Romanoff! Congratulations!”

The class clapped and Natasha took the bag with a smile. At dinner, Natasha loitered at the entrance from the greenhouses until she saw Clint and his friends. Clint’s smile widened when he saw Natasha.

“Hey, I’ll catch you up.”

Castle and Win-something shrugged and kept walking. Clint came over to her.

“Hey. I didn’t know you were waiting for me. We had Herbology, had to clean my hands.”

He wiggled his fingers at her, proving that they were indeed clean. Natasha rolled her eyes at him, but she did it with fondness.

“I wanted to talk about Potions.”

Clint’s face shuttered. “I don’t.”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Bobbi and I have told you this a hundred times.”

“It’s different in front of a class. Everyone laughed in primary school when I had to read out, they’ll laugh here.”

“What’s the spell Hansel did on your schoolbooks, to make them easier to read?”

Clint smiled. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you’re the pretty one. Bobbi and I are the clever ones.”

“If you say so.”

Natasha dug in her bag from Slughorn and held out a handful of tiny black sweets.

“Pepper Imps?”

Clint popped three in his mouth, lifted his head upwards, and breathed out. Natasha laughed as the tongue of flame shot over their heads.

“Thanks Nat.”

He kissed her cheek and wandered into the Great Hall. Natasha put the bag back into her schoolbag and headed in.

*

Clint barely had time to write to Hansel over the next couple of days. He shared Herbology with the Gryffindors. Frank was at his side, eying the plant in front of them warily. He’d been attacked by the Venomous Tentacula on the first day and was deeply suspicious of the greenhouses. Next to them was Dean and a tall boy with blond hair and bright blue eyes.

“Does anyone know what this plant is?” asked Professor Sprout.

Castiel lifted his hand. “It’s wolfsbane, Professor.”

“Correct. Five points to Hufflepuff. Now, anyone who can tell why this plant is called wolfsbane will earn twenty House points.”

Clint lifted his hand.

“Yes Mr Barton.”

“Muggles used to rub it on arrows when they hunted wolves.”

“Well done Mr Barton.” said Professor Sprout, looking pleased. “Twenty points to Hufflepuff.”

When she’d given them their instructions, repot the wolfsbane plants they had in front of them, the blond Gryffindor turned to Clint.

“How did you know that?”

“My family still uses it.”

“Mine too! Thor Odinson of the Asgard family.”

“Clint Barton.”

Thor gave him a broad smile. They got to work repotting. Dean took some of Frank’s off him because Mercy Lewis, he took forever. Frank scowled at the plants the whole time. When they’d trooped inside to wash their hands, Frank and Clint bid Dean and Thor goodbye. The Hufflepuffs went to Defence Against the Dark Arts and the Gryffindors trudged to History of Magic.

*

Flying was the class Bobbi was most looking forward to. She had been up to Underhill with Clint once and Adrianna had let her fly an old broom.

“I bet you’ve never even seen a real racing broom, have you Mudblood?” sneered Rosier, a deeply unpleasant Slytherin.

Bobbi told herself to ignore them. Rhodey, another Ravenclaw, glared at them.

“Don’t be disgusting.” said Tony.

“Nah, she hasn’t though, have you?” asked Rosier. “Mudbloods like you shouldn’t have been allowed into Hogwarts.”

“Does a Moontrimmer count?” replied Bobbi.

She had, briefly. Jem had let her sit on the back of his broom while Clint sat on the back of Barney’s Silver Arrow. Rosier paused, clearly surprised she knew a make of broom. Bobbi flicked her hair and turned to walk with Rhodey and Tony. They got to the courtyard, where the other Slytherins were already waiting. The Gryffindors were there too, both Houses glaring at each other. Benny jogged over, Dean in tow.

“Hey Bobbi. Looking forward to flying?”

“Definitely. I’ve flown once before but I wasn’t in control.”

“Who was?”

“Clint’s cousin.”

Clint had a ridiculous number of cousins. Bobbi had given up trying to work out how everyone was interconnected. To make matters worse, he referred to the oldest ones as ‘Aunt’ or ‘Uncle’. As she was about to ask the others if they’d ever flown, something jumped on her back.

“Clint Barton!” she shouted, turning to give him a shove.

“How did you know it was me?!”

“I wonder.” muttered Natasha.

She smiled at Bobbi before going to stand with Rogers. Bobbi rolled her eyes at Clint. Before Bobbi could say anything, their flying instructor arrived. She was a short woman with grey hair and yellow eyes, rather like Ronin’s.

“Well, stand by a broom!”

Bobbi hurried to a broom. Clint picked the one on her left and Benny the one on her right.

“Now hold your hand out and say up!”

Bobbi gave the broom a sceptical look. Clint was already doing it.

“Say it confidently.” advised Benny. “Like this. Up!”

With that, the broom jumped into his hand. Bobbi took a deep breath and held her hand out.

“Up!”

The broom lifted itself off the ground, then flopped back down. On the fourth attempt, the broom finally jumped into her hand. Clint grinned at her.

“Nice one!”

“Now, put your leg over the broom, like this.”

Bobbi did so, glancing at how Benny had his hands. She copied him, adjusting her grip. Their flight instructor, who had introduced herself as Madam Hooch, walked down the line, correcting them. When she approved, she gave the order for them to kick off. Bobbi hovered a few feet above the ground and beamed over at Clint.

“Now, try flying slightly higher.”

They practiced flying around the courtyard in small circles for an hour before Madam Hooch told them the lesson was over.

Chapter 16: Quidditch Match

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

20th October 1975- Clint: 11, Barney: 15

 

Gadreel sat down at the highest point in the Quidditch stands. He was bundled into a jumper and gloves. It had been a warm autumn so far, unusually so for Scotland, but now the cold was making itself known. With a vengeance.

“Can we sit with you?” asked a voice.

Gadreel turned to see a mini-Aaron stood in front of him, accompanied by a blonde girl and a pair of brunet boys. He’d met Clint once or twice at the station and in the common room when Aaron tried to convince him or Jason to do his homework for him.

“Of course. First Quidditch match?”

Clint nodded and sat down. He was wearing a Hufflepuff jumper that was too big for him, so he had pulled the front down over his hands.

“This is Bobbi, Frank, and Benny.”

All three chorused their hellos. Gadreel knew Frank from the common rooms as well, but only as ‘Aaron’s cousin’s friend’.

“Where are Dean and Thor?” asked Frank.

“Supporting Gryffindor.” said Clint, his lip curling.

“How dare they support their own House?” asked Bobbi, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

Clint ignored the sarcasm completely. Frank and Bobbi asked questions about Quidditch, including which team Clint and Benny supported. Gadreel was unsurprised to hear that Clint supported Montrose Magpies. Aaron did too, his wall in the dorm had a huge poster of the current team. Gadreel was fairly sure Aaron had cried when Fabius Watkins, Magpies captain and Chaser, had died.

“What about you? What team do you support?” asked Bobbi.

“Ballycastle Bats.” replied Gadreel.

It was his small rebellion in a family of Portree supporters. It was practically insignificant but Gadreel still felt smug when Portree lost to the Bats. The game was about to begin. Gadreel could see Aaron and Jem, both swinging their Beater’s bats lazily. Jason was double-checking his chest guard. Luke Cage, the captain, was shaking hands with the Gryffindor captain, Danny Rand.

“Come on Badgers!” shouted Clint.

Bobbi elbowed him for yelling. Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the players kicked off the dirt. Rand got the Quaffle first and sped towards Jason. Jem or Aaron, it was hard to tell them apart from a distance, sent a Bludger towards Rand. Rand rolled his broom, going upside down. He resurfaced and hurled it at the hoop. Jason caught it and threw it back to Cage.

“YES JASON!” bellowed Clint.

As the game carried on, the Bludger going back towards the Gryffindor Keeper, Gadreel noticed Bobbi shivering.

“Are you cold?”

“Freezing. I didn’t realise how cold it was.”

Gadreel pulled his jumper off and handed it to her.

“Here, you can wear mine. I’m not that cold.”

Bobbi gave him a look of undying gratitude and hurriedly dragged it on. Gadreel was left in a thin shirt and a pair of gloves. It was another small rebellion, wearing the Muggle clothes Aaron got him. This T-shirt was dark green and Gadreel’s current favourite. He could feel the goosebumps starting to appear.

“Do you want your jumper back?”

“No, it’s alright.”

 Bobbi looked pleased and snuggled even further in. It was far too big for her, much like Clint’s jumper. He’d probably been given it by Aaron or Jem. As Gadreel turned his attention back to the game, a heavy bulk settled down next to him. Gadreel turned and was met with a pair of blue eyes. Beautiful blue eyes, the kind that you could stare into for hours. Like Gadreel was currently doing. He blinked and pulled back. The beautiful blue eyes were attached to an equally beautiful freckled face and ginger hair kept short.

“Oh shit.”

“Ugly fucker, ain’t he?” asked Clint.

“What, no I didn’t- I mean- I did- You startled me.”

Great, now Gadreel’s face felt like it was on fire. Barney just laughed, like Gadreel hadn’t just sworn in front of his precious brother.

“I heard that, Clint.”

“Hansel says it.”

“All the more reason not to say it.”

Gadreel heard Clint’s loud sigh. The three first-years returned to watching the match, as did Barney. It gave Gadreel the chance to take a few deep breaths and sneak a few glances at Barney. Merlin, it was hard enough having a crush on a popular Quidditch player, it was hell on Earth when he sat next to you. Especially when he was wearing a Hufflepuff scarf under his leather jacket. Gadreel felt himself starting to shiver.

“100-30 to Hufflepuff!”

“YOU CAN DO IT JASON!”

“Mercy Lewis.” muttered Barney. “He must be part-banshee.”

Gadreel laughed. Then he clapped his hand over his mouth. Barney looked pleased though, grinning over at Gadreel. Then his expression sobered.

“Hey, are you cold?”

“No.”

“You’re shivering.”

“I do that. It’s a… muscle exercise.”

Barney’s eyebrows were climbing to his hairline. Gadreel turned back to the match. The next thing he knew, something was being draped around his shoulders. Gadreel glanced over at Barney, now jacketless.

“Zip it up, it’ll help keep the heat in.”

“But you’ll be cold.”

Barney laughed. “I run hot.”

Gadreel slipped his arms into the jacket and pulled it close. It was a little big, since Barney had filled out even more over the summer. The jacket smelled of broom wax, heather, and the aftershave Barney used. It was a good smell. Clint let out a horrific shriek as Jason saved a goal.

“Is he like this at home?”

“You have no idea.” replied Barney. “The minute I learn the Silencing Charm, I’m using it on him.”

Gadreel laughed again. Barney turned his attention back to the game. He was much quieter than his brother while watching, only speaking when Gryffindor scored. Then he swore. Clint yelled at everything.

“GET HIM IN THE BALLS JEM!”

“Going a little far there, kid.” said Barney.

He was smiling despite it. He’d relaxed throughout the game, leaning partly against Gadreel. Gadreel was trying very hard not to lean in as well.

“He hexed me!”

“He what?”

“He did that Knee-Reversal Hex on me.”

Bobbi chimed in, “We were on the stairs. Clint fell down them.”

“Bobbi!” hissed Clint.

Barney said nothing but he sat up straight, taking his warmth off Gadreel. He was tense now, jaw tight and hands laced.

“Don’t do nothin’ stupid Barney.” said Clint, his accent thickening.

“I’m never stupid.” replied Barney icily. “Excuse me.”

With that he left. Gadreel glanced at Clint. Clint ran a hand over his head.

“Thanks for that Birdie.”

“He was going to find out eventually.”

“Yeah I know.”

The game finished twenty minutes later, when McKinnon caught the Snitch. Gryffindor won 250-160.

*

Clint was heading to the Great Hall after Herbology when he heard the shouting. Curiosity won out in the end and he headed to the source. He skidded to a stop, causing Thor to smash into his back.

“Why have you stopped?”

Clint watched in wordless horror as the Gryffindor Black slammed Jem against the wall. Jem snarled, bringing his head forward and connecting with Black’s face. Black stumbled back. He swung a wild punch towards Jem, who blocked it and drove his knee into Black’s private area.

“Sirius!” somebody shouted.

Black’s friend, Potty or Potter or something, shoved past Clint and grabbed at Jem. Jem elbowed him and lunged for Black again. The other two Gryffindors, Lupin and Pettigrew, hung back, mouths open. Just as Clint thought it couldn’t get worse, Jem scrapping with two Gryffindors, someone else joined in. It took Clint a minute to distinguish which cousin it was and then he wished he hadn’t. Chick. Chick who used hexes the same way Jem used his fists. Recklessly and frequently.

He slammed into Potter, throwing him to the floor. The two of them began wrestling, Chick raining blows down on Potter’s face.

“James!”

“Hey!” shouted Jem, hauling Black back by his shirt.

He drove a fist into Black’s kidney, and then kicked the back of his knee. Clint found himself wincing in sympathy. Even if it was Black. Potter had briefly gotten the better of Chick evidently. He was now on his feet, nose definitely broken and blood decorating his face. His broken glasses were on the floor.

Chick lunged at him again. He grabbed Potter’s head, hit it against the wall, and brought it down on his knee again and again. Potter’s fists hit Chick a few times but to no great effect. Jem and Black were still scrapping. Chick did some move too quick for Clint to catch and then Potter was on his knees, Chick’s forearm across his neck. Potter’s hands scrabbled at Chick. Clint felt Thor get ready to intervene.

“ENOUGH!” thundered a voice.

The crowd was already parting to let someone through. Relief washed over Clint as he recognised Barney. Chick didn’t loosen his arm but Jem and Black did stop. There didn’t seem to be a clear winner. Black had two black eyes, and from the way he was holding himself, Clint would guess at a few broken ribs. Chick had obviously kicked the crap out of Potter.

“Let him go.” said Barney, voice quieter. “Now.”

Jem stepped away from Black, swiping at the blood on his face. He had a few bruises and his arm looked broken. Barney turned steel eyes on Chick.

“Let. Him. Go. I won’t repeat myself.”

There was a long pause where Clint though Chick might continue until Potter passed out. But then, he stepped away, laughing.

“No respect for anyone those two. We did the firsties a favour.”

Barney’s eyes flickered to Black and then to Clint. His face didn’t change but Clint could see it. He was pleased. Jem spat at Black’s feet.

“Go to the hospital wing.” ordered Barney. “Now.”

Jem limped away, followed by Chick. Black helped Potter up and, with Pettigrew, they headed the same way. Barney came over to Clint, ruffling his hair.

“You alright, kid?”

“I’m fine. What was that about?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re pleased.”

“Black’s an asshole.” replied Barney.

Lupin squared his shoulders. “I should dock points.”

“Then dock points from the shitheads that hex first-years.”

Barney’s tone was still cold. He grinned at Clint before loping off the way Jem and Chick had gone. Clint shook his head. He knew he shouldn’t have let Barney find out. Thor wrapped an arm around his shoulders as they headed to the Great Hall.

“Your cousins, they are always like this?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“It’s good, to have family that loves you so much.”

Notes:

Hahahaha, I thought this fic would only be like 20 chapters. I was wrong. Very wrong. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this and let me know!

Chapter 17: Fight Fight Fight

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

27th November 1975- Clint: 11, Barney: 15

 

Clint lowered his bow with a smirk. He and Barney were practising at the back of Hagrid’s hut. With Hagrid’s permission, they’d set up a mini archery range there where Clint could practise with his recurve bow and Barney with a crossbow. Fang was there, huddled against Bluebell Flames Clint had created. Every one of his arrows was either in the gold or the ring just outside.

“Don’t get cocky.” said Barney. “Come on, pack up.”

Once they’d packed up, they headed back to the castle. They split up in the courtyard, Barney going to join his friends in the courtyard and Clint going to find his own inside the castle. He found Bobbi outside the Great Hall, her arms folded as she glared at Rumlow and Rosier.

“Get out of my way assholes.”

“Nah,” said Rosier, “don’t think we will.”

Rumlow grinned nastily. “We don’t want to eat with your kind of people, see?”

“People’s putting it strongly.”

Clint came up to Bobbi’s side.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m trying to get into the damn Hall but they won’t move.”

“It’s bad enough we have to share classes with your kind.” sneered Rosier.

“What do you mean by ‘your kind’?” asked Clint, hand closing into a fist.

Rumlow answered, “Mudbloods.”

So Clint punched him.

*

In hindsight, Clint really should have checked Bobbi didn’t mind him punching someone for her. Clint’s first punch had the element of surprise and Rumlow staggered to the side. Rosier shouted and moved towards him. Bobbi already had her wand out. She cast the Jelly-Legs Jinx and Rosier stumbled to the side. He still managed to get his wand out as Rumlow came surging back with a punch to Clint’s gut. Clint grunted but brought his knee up into Rumlow’s privates.

“Diffindo!”

Hot pain sliced across Clint’s side in thin lines. Rumlow punched him in the chest, catching the edge of one of the lines. Clint howled and slammed his head into Rumlow’s face. Rumlow staggered back, holding his face. Clint took the opportunity to copy Aaron’s punching bag technique, keeping his thumb on the outside of his fists and slamming his fists into Rumlow’s ribs again and again. Rumlow managed to shove him back and a heavy hand landed on the back of his neck.

“What is the meaning of this?!”

Clint looked up to see Professor McGonagall glaring down at him.

“My office, all of you. Now.”

Clint looked over to see Bobbi had Rosier in a headlock. She let him go and stepped away, scowling. She had a bloody nose and her hair was falling out of its ponytail. They endured the walk in silence, finally stopping in her office. McGonagall sat down at her desk, looking between the four of them.

“Would someone care to explain what is going on? Miss Morse, this behaviour is not what I expected of you.”

Bobbi didn’t even look at Clint as she started talking.

“I was trying to go into the Great Hall but Rumlow and Rosier wouldn’t let me. They said they didn’t want to eat in the same room as me.”

“And where did Mr Barton come into it?”

“They called her a mudblood, Professor!” said Clint.

“So Clint punched Rumlow.” finished Bobbi.

McGonagall gave Clint a detention and took ten points from Hufflepuff before sending them both to the hospital wing for Madam Pomfrey to check them.

“Sorry Bobbi.” said Clint as they waited for Madam Pomfrey. “I should have let you handle it.”

“Yeah, you should have.” agreed Bobbi. “But thanks for being on my side.”

“Next time I’ll only punch them if you give me the signal.”

“The signal?”

“Yeah. Like a wink or something.”

“Or something like saying ‘hey Clint, punch them’?”

“That would work.”

Bobbi smiled. They sat in silence as she tried to unstick her hair from the dried blood on her face. Madam Pomfrey eventually came over, ready to assess them. Clint had to lift his shirt where Rosier had hit him with the Severing Charm and honestly, how did he even know that? Madam Pomfrey healed them instantly

“They shouldn’t scar but you seem to have plenty of those already.”

Clint flushed, his kneejerk reaction to his scars being pointed out. In America it had usually led to some form of concerned questioning by a teacher and yelling at home. Madam Pomfrey moved on to Bobbi, cleaning the cut on her face and washing the blood off. The two of them left as Rosier and Rumlow came in.

“Assholes.” muttered Clint when they’d gone.

“Too right.” said Bobbi. “Come on. Let’s eat.”

Clint followed her. They hung out together in the library afterwards, trying not to get caught talking by Madam Pince. It felt like it had been years since just the two of them had spent time together. At Hogwarts, they were always with Frank, Thor, Dean, and Benny, and over summer Barney had been with them every day and Natasha almost every day.

“Remember that time you threw pudding at Charles Crawford because he made fun of your pigtails?” asked Clint.

“Yes!” laughed Bobbi. “Oh, my mum tried so hard to be mad with me.”

They did eventually get kicked out by Madam Pince and had to finally go to their own common rooms.

“See you tomorrow.” said Bobbi. “Oh, will you check my Charms homework at lunch?”

“Yeah, of course. See you tomorrow.”

Bobbi disappeared up the stairs towards Ravenclaw Tower and Clint went to the Hufflepuff common room. When he got there, he discovered Barney lurking outside.

“What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you. Heard you got in a fight.”

“They deserved it. They called Bobbi the M-word.”

Barney whistled. “Fuck Rosier. And Rumlow.”

“You knew?”

“They came into the common room whining. McGonagall docked them fifty points each and they have three detentions.”

“She docked me ten. And I have a detention next Friday.”

Barney groaned. “You mean next Friday when you were supposed to come to that stupid party with me?”

Clint felt his face fall. He’d been looking forward to the Snail Club party with Barney. Mostly for the free food. And also because Barney was going to wear a suit and horrify the stuffy old wizards. Which Clint always approved of.

“Maybe she’ll let me change it?”

“There is no way in hell McGonagall is going to change that detention. I’ll find someone else to come with me and make fun of all the shitty pastries.”

“What about that Miles guy in Ravenclaw? You fancy him.”

Barney’s face flushed bright red.

“Shut up Clint.”

“Dyer’s Twelve, you really do fancy him!! I was joking!”

Barney squirmed under his younger brother’s enthusiasm.

“You should be more interested in the fact that Rumlow had three cracked ribs and Rosier had a broken nose.”

“Bobbi broke Rosier’s nose?!”

Bobbi did that? Holy shit. I love her.”

Clint grinned. “I know, right? I’m fine anyway, thanks for asking.”

“Tell Bobbi if she has a problem with the Slytherins, I’ll talk to them for her.”

“Or Chick.”

Barney laughed. “Maybe not. I don’t want them cut into tiny pieces. Anyway, I’m going to go.”

“And ask Ash Miles out?”

“No.”

Barney pushed himself off the wall and began walking away. Clint cupped his hands round his mouth.

“I know you stare at his ass!”

Barney stuck his middle finger up as he disappeared from sight. Clint laughed and ducked into the common room.

Notes:

So this took way longer than it should have done to write...
In my defence I did just move halfway across the world and I've been settling into my new job. Hopefully I'll be able to write on Saturdays and post on Sundays. Hopefully. Don't quote me on that.

Don't forget to leave a review or kudos!

Chapter 18: Staying at Friends'

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

21st December 1975- Clint: 11, Barney: 15

 

Barney rolled his shoulders as he walked up the path to the Novaks’ house. Well, he used the term ‘house’ loosely. It was more like a manor, right down to the sweeping gravel path and perfectly manicured lawn. Jem and Aaron, loping next to him, looked like they were here to rob the place. Though, Barney probably didn’t look much better. All of them were in Muggle clothes, Jem in a leather jacket, Aaron in a hoodie, Barney in a check shirt. They would probably be the only ones in Muggle clothes, from what Gabriel said about the Novaks.

“Couldn’t Dad have Apparated us in a little closer?” complained Jem.

“I think they have wards.” replied Barney.

“Yeah but you could have thrown up on the grass.”

“Right. What a great way to introduce myself to one of my best friend’s parents. Vomiting on their lawn.”

“I think this goes past a lawn. It’s like grounds or some shit.”

Barney laughed. The manor had polished stone pillars flanking the front steps. The door itself had a knocker in the shape of a pair of wings. Aaron reached out and rapped the knocker once. Jem rolled his eyes.

“They’ll never hear that.”

As Jem reached for the knocker, Barney said, “Don’t…”

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

“Slam it.” finished Barney with a sigh. “Well, they definitely know we’re here now.”

Jem rolled his eyes. “Isn’t that the whole point? We can’t stay over if they don’t know we’re here.”

The door creaked open, a stern-faced woman answering. Her mouth was a thin line, her hair dragged back in a clip and she had robes on. In short, she was exactly the opposite of every Moody woman. Which was probably a good thing when it came to Aunt Miriam.

“Hello? I’m Barney Barton, this is Jem and Aaron Moody. We’re friends of Gabriel and Gadreel. We’re expected?”

The woman smiled. “Of course, come on in. I’m Naomi Novak, Gabriel’s mother.”

Barney shuffled in, wiping his feet four times on the mat. Just in case. Aaron copied him. The hall had a painting of the manor, with the trees swaying slightly in a silent breeze.

“I’ll call the boys and they can show you to your rooms before dinner.”

Naomi swept up the stairs, leaving the three boys awkwardly hovering. Aaron checked his watch.

“Little late for diner isn’t it? It’s like six o’clock.”

“Southerners.” replied Jem. “They say dinner instead of tea.”

“That’s just weird.”

Barney, as an American, had no stake in the dinner-tea debate and was more interested in the décor. There were little gold details on most of the furniture, even the umbrella stand. Somehow it came off as elegant instead of tacky. Gabriel appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Moodys!” he called, racing down.

He high-fived Barney and Jem and ignored Aaron almost completely. Aaron didn’t seem to mind, craning his neck to peer up the stairs.

“Come on, I’ll show you your rooms.”

“Where’s Gad?” asked Aaron.

“On his way.” said Gabriel, already heading up the stairs. “He’ll show you to yours.”

They were made of smooth marble and Barney already had visions of Aaron or Jem slipping down them. Gabriel turned right at the top of the stairs and walked even further. The portraits on the walls sneered down at them. Gabriel stopped at a pair of rooms.

“OK, these are yours. There’s a bathroom in there, connected to both of them. So…”

Barney unpacked in a few minutes since all he had was a backpack. Trick had been left in Manchester but was coming up to Underhill with Uncle Alastor and Clint. Who was also bringing the damn bird. Even Jem was done in fifteen. They followed Gabriel back to the top of the stairs.

“Hungry?” asked Gabriel as Jem’s stomach growled.

“Fucking starving.”

“Mother doesn’t like swearing.” said a voice by Barney’s elbow.

Barney jumped, startled by the sudden voice. Looking down, the speaker was Castiel, Gabriel’s youngest brother.

“What Mother doesn’t know won’t hurt her, Castiel.” said Gabriel sternly.

Castiel looked unconvinced but said nothing else. Barney followed the Novaks, raising his eyebrows at Jem. Jem pulled a face. By the time they got down there, Aaron had disappeared. Barney deeply hoped he’d gone with Gadreel and not to fuck with something expensive and irreplaceable.

“Please, sit down.” said Gabriel as he walked into the dining room.

Barney glanced at Jem. The dining room was austere and dark, all the furniture made of dark wood. There was a fireplace behind the head of the table’s seat.

“Should we sit anywhere in particular?” asked Barney.

The Moodys only had designated seats when they were being formal, at Christmas and New Year’s Day dinner or actual meetings.

“Sit anywhere. Except the ends of the table.”

“Gabriel.” said Naomi’s voice. “Is that any way to instruct a guest? Bernard will think we’re being rude.”

“Oh, no ma’am I don’t- do not think that at all.” said Barney. “And honestly, you can call me Barney.”

“Nonsense. Bernard is the name your parents gave you.”

‘You little shit’ was the more common name he’d been given but Barney saw no reason to point that out. It was annoying that she knew his name was Bernard but as long as she didn’t call him Charles, everything was fine. Seeing Jem addressed as James though, Barney couldn’t wait.

“Sit down in age order, that’s how we do it in this household.”

Naomi sat at the end of the table furthest from the fireplace.

“Castiel, go and fetch your father.”

“Yes Mother.”

Castiel trotted off, leaving Jem to smugly take the seat at the top of the table. He was a whole five months older than Barney, something that never failed to irritate Barney and delight Jem. Aaron and Gadreel eventually appeared, both of them smiling. Gadreel’s smile disappeared when he saw Barney and Jem. That was fair enough. If Barney had to share a common room with Jem, he probably wouldn’t be thrilled.

“Don’t just stand there, Gadreel. Sit down. My eldest sons aren’t here tonight, unfortunately.”

Aaron flopped into the seat next to Barney with all of his usual grace. Which was none.

“Oh, where’s Lucifer?” asked Barney.

“You know Lucifer?” asked Castiel, who’d reappeared without his father.

“He’s in my House. And he’s my cousin’s friend. That’s Chick.” said Barney, adding the last part for Naomi.

“Ah yes, I believe they’re both coming here the day after tomorrow.” replied Naomi.

Aaron whined, “Chick’s gonna be here? Ow!”

The ‘Ow!’ was because Barney kicked him under the table. Hard. In the shins. Aaron sent him a resentful glare. Naomi looked confused but instead turned to Castiel, demanding to know where his father was. Apparently in his study and about to come out.

“I can’t believe you believed that. Honestly Castiel.”

Naomi rose to her feet, determinedly heading in the direction Castiel had gone. Barney waited until he was sure she was gone before speaking.

“She’s not going to call me Bernard all weekend, is she?”

Gabriel gave him a deeply sympathetic look.

“Sorry.”

Barney refrained from swearing but considering the fact that even Gadreel laughed, he was pretty sure his face said it all. Naomi returned with a shabby-looking man with a messy beard and dark wavy hair. That was clearly where Castiel had got it from. Barney rose to his feet, copied a split-second later by Aaron and, after a nudge, by Jem.

“Nice to meet you sir.”

“Oh please. Call me Chuck.”

Charles.” said Naomi.

“Darling, Aaron seems to be practically Gadreel’s brother. I feel Chuck is allowable. And it seems unfair to force the other two lads to call me Charles.”

“And you hate the name.” said Gabriel, smiling.

Chuck smiled. “And there is that.”

Naomi huffed out an impatient sigh. Barney was beginning to think she got impatient a lot. They sat down and three house-elves began trotting food out.

“Michael and Luci not coming?” asked Chuck.

Barney only half-heard him, watching in vague amazement as the house-elves brought out a mountain of mashed potatoes, plates with beef on, and half a farm’s worth of vegetables.

“They’re both coming tomorrow.” replied Naomi. “I told you this.”

Chuck shrugged, already beginning to pile food on his plate. Barney had never met Michael, he’d left Hogwarts the year before Barney had joined. The silence at the table grew, leaving Barney awkwardly avoiding eye contact with Gadreel.

*

Once the awkward dinner was over and the house-elves were clearing the plates away, Gabriel spoke.

“I’ll show you to the billiard room.”

As Barney followed Gabriel, he heard Jem mutter, “The fuck’s a billiard?”

The answer turned out to be pool but for posh people. Aaron, living with his seventy-year-old pure-blood grandfather, had never even seen a pool table before. Jem had but only in the Muggle movies his dad liked to watch. Gabriel, on hearing all of this, looked to Barney.

“You’ve played pool, right? You’re American, you must have done.”

“It’s been a while.”

There had been a youth centre or a community club or something where Barney grew up. It had a TV, a pool table, and a bar to buy Cokes and crisps. Barney had started sneaking in when he was eleven. His dad had found him when he was twelve. Barney had stopped going after that.

“I thought your family didn’t like Muggle shit.” said Jem. “That’s why you’re always wearing robes.”

“Mother doesn’t come in this room.” said Gabriel. “So we can have whatever we want in here.”

That was obvious. Aside from the pool table, there was also table-soccer, a dartboard pinned to the door, and a pinball machine.

“Did you rob an arcade?” asked Aaron.

“Father likes Muggle things. His friend got them for him.” said Castiel from somewhere around Barney’s elbow.

“Why don’t you go read a book, Cassie?” asked Gabriel. “We’re playing pool.”

Castiel scowled. “Mother wants me to stay with you. To… network.”

“She realises we’re a dumbass, a jock, and a thug, right?” asked Barney. “It’s not who I’d choose to network with.”

“Which one am I?” asked Aaron.

“That question answers itself.” said Gadreel.

 Aaron promptly punched Gadreel in the arm. While they were wrestling, Gabriel was talking Jem through the finer points of pool.

“Hey Cassie,” said Barney, “teach me how to use this table soccer thing, yeah?”

“Alright.”

Jem called over from the pool table, “What’s Clint doing this weekend?”

“Honestly, I try not to think about Clint’s doing.”

*

Clint was going to buy his bodyweight in fudge. He, Bobbi, and Natasha were at the German Christmas markets with Will and Ben. Bobbi, an expert on the Christmas markets, had promptly dragged them away from the largest market.

“You don’t want to go there.”

“I really do.” replied Will. “I just saw the hotdogs they sell.”

“German sausages.” corrected Ben. “They get annoyed when you call them hotdogs.”

“Come on.”

Bobbi led them around the market and into a little side street. The side street opened into a square as well, with stalls that smelled divine and a fudge stand that seemed a mile long. There was also a bar with tables next to a bronze statue. Clint could feel his jaw dropping.

“Nat, get a bag.” said Clint. “We’re having a party tonight.”

Natasha grabbed a striped bag and the three of them began filling it. There were dozens of flavours, some Clint hadn’t even thought of, like rum and raisin. Baileys! Orange! The Muggle world was a marvel. Once they’d filled the bag to bursting, they approached the seller. The man gave them a smile. His apron matched the bags.

“Sure you’ve got enough there?”

“We think so.” said Natasha solemnly.

The man weighed the fudge and gave them the price. Clint dug through his pockets, finally landing on the wallet Jason had given him for his last birthday. He proudly presented the ten-pound note to the seller. The man took it and gave them back a miniscule amount of change. Bobbi then dragged them over to the pancake stand.

“Wait, where did Will go?” asked Clint.

“Over there somewhere. Do you want Nutella? I’m getting Nutella.”

“If he can’t find me, he’ll get Uncle Alastor.”

“Oh Merlin.” said Natasha. “Quick, find him.”

Clint considered climbing up the statue towards the back of the square but he had a feeling that would get him into even more trouble. Instead he slipped out of the crowd and found Ben and Will by the fudge stand.

“Keep up!” he shouted, before disappearing back into the throng.

They caught up to the trio just as Natasha was ordering a strawberry pancake.

“That’ll be £3.50, please.” said the woman taking the money.

Natasha attempted to hand over coins Clint didn’t recognise. The woman’s mouth narrowed.

“Are those kroner?” asked Bobbi.

“Yes.”

“You can’t use kroner in England, did your dad give you that?”

“Yes.”

Ben intervened. “She’s new to England, just got her papers to come over. This is the most expensive thing she’s even eaten.”

The woman relaxed a little at that.

“Oh, the poor dear. She can have that one for free.”

Natasha opened her mouth, probably to protest, but Ben dragged her and Bobbi away before she could say anything. Clint ordered his own pancake, as did Will, and they caught up with them in the bar. Ben had ordered two pints, one for himself and one for Will.

“Alright, how much fudge did you buy?” asked Will.

Clint presented the bag.

“Merlin.”

“Jesus. They’re staying at yours, right?”

Will looked deeply reluctant but agreed. They started eating their pancakes.

“You can’t use kroner here.”

“But Papa said it can be used in any decent country.”

“Not quite.” replied Ben. “Just… don’t use it.”

“But then I haven’t got any money.”

“I’ll pay for you.” said Clint.

Natasha smiled. Once they’d eaten the pancakes, it was onto the other markets. Clint began to hunt down something for Uncle Alastor. He was the worst person to buy for, since if it couldn’t detect Dark magic, he wasn’t interested. He didn’t even watch Quidditch.

“What about this?” asked Natasha.

“It’s a walking stick.”

“Really, I thought it was a dog.” she replied, deadpan.

Clint stuck his tongue out at her. Bobbi was investigating the jewellery stall opposite for something for her mom.

“He’s got a fake leg now, doesn’t he? He could use the walking stick to lean on.”

“You’re a genius, I’ll never doubt you again.” replied Clint.

He immediately dived into the collection of walking sticks, looking for the right one. He eventually found it, made of dark wood with an owl’s head carved into the top.

“Perfect.”

Once they’d explored thoroughly explored all five markets, Will took them into a side street and Apparated home. Clint shuddered when they landed. He wasn’t a fan of the sensation but unlike some people (Barney), he was perfectly capable of landing without emptying his stomach. Ben bid them goodbye and headed off. Once inside with the various security charms and devices disabled, Will set them up with a video and disappeared to the kitchen to work.

“Hey, I can fit three pieces of fudge in my mouth.” said Natasha.

“Bet you can’t fit four.” said Bobbi.

“I can fit five.” she replied, reaching for the bag.

From the kitchen, Clint heard Will groan loudly.

Notes:

Oh wow this took so long to write, I am so sorry. Turns out it's hard to write seasonal stuff when it isn't the season. Anyway, enjoy, leave kudos or a review! :D

Chapter 19: Mary MacDonald

Notes:

It was only filler, how did it end up like this? It was only filler, it was only filler.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

16th January 1976: Clint- 12, Barney- 15

 

“So you could visit mine at Easter?” asked Frank.

“Yeah. I mean, I’d have to ask Uncle Alastor and the Old Man would probably want to do a background check or something, but I don’t think Uncle Alastor would have a problem.” replied Clint.

He, Benny, and Frank were currently heading towards the library to deal with the mountain of homework the professors had set them. Clint was already trying to work out how to get Benny to do his History of Magic essay for him.

“Who’s the Old Man?” asked Benny.

“My great-granddad.”

“Why not just call him Granddad?”

“That’s my dad’s dad. Gramps is my mom’s dad.”

“Your family is so confusing.” replied Frank.

He was an only child of only children, with no cousins at all. Clint couldn’t imagine how quiet his house must be during the holidays.

“Oh, you could come to Underhill in the second week. It’s great, we can swim in the lake and fly, and there’s this forest you can explore.”

“Easter isn’t for another-”

Benny’s protest was interrupted by a scream. The three boys took off in the direction of the scream, heading down a rarely-used corridor. There were two boys huddled around the smaller figure of a Gryffindor girl Clint didn’t know.

“Hey!” shouted Frank.

The boys turned and Clint felt his stomach turn to ice. He vaguely recognised the shorter boy from Quidditch matches, Mullet or something. The other boy was Chick. He currently had blood on his right hand. Clint looked to the girl. She was older than him, maybe third or fourth year. Blood had mingled with her blonde hair from an injury he couldn’t see. She was holding her head in both hands and sobbing.

“Leave her alone, Chick, come on.” said Clint in his nicest tone of voice.

Yelling at Chick never had an effect. He still killed cats that wandered across the farm and the village dogs, despite the Old Man’s constant warnings.

“She’s a soft target Chick, what are you proving here?” he asked.

“She’s a fucking Mudblood.” spat Mullet.

Maybe if he hadn’t been there, Clint would have been able to talk Chick down. Maybe if Clint had been on his own, Mullet would have attacked him and Chick would have felt honour-bound to defend his family. Maybe. Instead Frank balled his fists up.

“Fuck you!”

Benny went to the crying girl. He gently pulled her hand down from her face. Clint still couldn’t what had caused the bleeding.

“I think you should go to the hospital wing. That’s a lot of blood.”

“We’re not done with her.” snapped Chick.

Benny held the girl’s hand as he began to urge her away. Frank stood between Mullet and her. Chick stormed over, wand sliding into his hand. Clint caught his arm.

“Chick, don-”

Clint was cut off when Chick grabbed his arm and slammed his head into the stone wall. The world turned black in front of his eyes. He managed to blink it back to see Frank tackle Mullet to the ground. Clearly whatever skill he had at curses did not translate to Muggle fighting. He fell on his back as Frank punched his face. Repeatedly. Chick was still heading towards the girl and Benny. So Clint pulled his own wand.

“Tarantallegra!”

He thought he shouted but only a whisper came out. The jinx hit Chick, slowing him down as his legs thrashed uncontrollably. It only slowed him for a second, if that, as Chick then flicked his wand, stilling his legs. He changed direction, heading towards Clint with murder on his face. He stopped suddenly, tilting his head like a bird dog. Then he ran in the direction Clint, Frank, and Benny had come from.

A hand touched Clint’s shoulder making him jump and point his wand up towards the person. Gadreel lifted his hands, looking alarmed. Jason and Aaron were next to him. Clint lowered his wand and apologised. He was still whispering.

“Sorry.”

That was better. Gadreel glanced at Aaron who frowned back. Jason went to help the Gryffindor girl. Aaron hauled Frank off Mullet and gestured wildly. They began to make their very slow way to the hospital wing, excluding Mullet who they left bleeding on the ground. Gadreel stayed next to Clint. He probably had bruises forming from the whole being slammed into a wall thing. When they got to the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey gasped. The girl was whisked away first, taken to behind closed curtains. Aaron, without asking, picked Clint up and dropped him on a hospital bed.

“’M fine Aaron.”

In response, Aaron rolled his eyes. Clint scowled at him. His head hurt like hell, that much was true, and he did feel like being sick. But he would resist. Throwing up wouldn’t help his case. At some point, Gadreel disappeared. Jason came over as Aaron went to talk to Frank and Benny.

“Hey. You feeling OK?”

Clint blinked at him. Jason opened his mouth to repeat the question.

“Yeah! I’m good.”

“Your ear’s bleeding.”

Clint lifted his hand to his ear. He could feel the heat before he actually made contact with the skin. He hissed as he did so, pain radiating from where he touched. When he looked at his fingers, there was blood on them.

“Oh. My head hurts.”

“I bet.” replied Jason.

Clint leaned his head forwards, balancing it on Jason’s chest. There was a slight pause before Jason’s hand came up to pat his back. It was a little too tentative, too unsure. Which was fair enough because Jason had never had to deal with an injured Clint before. Apart from the occasional bruise from walking into a tree at Underhill. Clint lifted his head, about to ask if he could go find Barney, when the hospital doors burst open. Everything still sounded like it was underwater, but even Clint heard the bang they made. Barney came flying through, hair sticking out in all directions, still in his Quidditch gear.

“Clint!”

He ran over, Jason stepping aside. Clint barely even noticed Gadreel slipping back in and quietly closing the doors. Barney caught the uninjured side of Clint’s head, expertly tilting his head back so he could get a better look at the injury.

“Hey chickenbutt.”

“Your hand’s sweaty.”

“I was at Quidditch, we’re gonna clean some of this blood off, OK? Get a better look at what’s going on.”

Barney was speaking slower than usual but Clint was grateful. Thinking was hard.

“I feel sick.”

Barney said something over his shoulder. A bowl appeared moments later. Clint took it, balancing it on his lap. Arguing with Barney was pointless, he just pulled the big brother card. He did let go of Clint’s head eventually, when Madam Pomfrey came over. The two of them talked too quickly and quietly for Clint to follow.

“Clint, show Madam Pomfrey your ear.”

Clint obediently tilted his head. Someone started cleaning the blood off his ear, making him suck in a breath. Barney caught his head with one hand.

“Easy. What’s tougher than a Barton boy?”

Clint blinked.

“Two Barton boys.”

“That’s right. Deep breaths.”

“Hurts.”

“I know. We’re being as gentle as we can. Stay still for me.”

So Clint did. His ear had stopped throbbing but a headache was now forming on the left side of his head. Barney tapped the middle of Clint’s forehead, catching his attention effortlessly.

“Hey.”

“Listen. You have a concussion, OK?”

“OK.”

“Madam Pomfrey’s gonna give you a potion and you’re going to drink it all.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Don’t care.”

Clint reluctantly drank the too-sweet potion, grimacing as it left a film on his tongue and teeth. Barney pulled a face in sympathy. He felt lopsided, as if his ear had actually been cut off instead of just hurt. He wanted to inform Barney of this fact but his tongue felt too heavy.

Then he was resting his entire upper body in Barney’s sweaty hands. Clint wasn’t sure of how he’d ended up there but it had happened. His head was resting against Barney’s chest. One of Barney’s arms went under his legs, deftly lifting him onto the hospital bed.

“Don’t wanna stay here.”

“Clint.”

“Fiiiiiiiiine. How’s the girl?”

Barney ruffled Clint’s hair, avoiding touching the side of his head that ached.

“She’s gonna be OK. A little bruised and cut up, but OK.”

“That’s good.”

Clint then fell asleep.

*

When he woke up, he was in a hospital bed with Ronin sat on his pillow. Dean, Thor, and Bobbi were there, peering anxiously down at him.

“Hey.” said Clint through a mouth full of cotton wool. “Was I supposed to fall asleep?”

Bobbi shook her head. When she spoke, it was slow and clear and she didn’t mind repeating herself until Clint understood.

“You were supposed to stay awake. It’s the next day. Madam Pomfrey wanted to see how bad your concussion is.”

“Oh.”

“Barney had to be dragged to class by Jem.” supplied Thor.

His voice wasn’t as booming as usual. Clint couldn’t tell if he was being quiet because of their surroundings or if his hearing really was that fucked up.

“We don’t know.” said Dean. “Your brother won’t tell us anything.”

Whoa, Dean was a Legilimens. When did that happen? A mind-reader… a telepath! That’s what Muggles called them.

“You’re talking out loud.” said Bobbi, crushing Clint’s dream of forming a superhero team. “I’m not crushing anything, you’ve had painkillers.”

Madam Pomfrey appeared, ushering his friends out and leaving Clint at the mercy of a woman who frequently gave him disgusting potions.

“If you avoided injury more, I would not have to give them to you.”

Another Leglimens??

“Your concussion is worse than I thought.”

Well, that was rude.

“It’s my medical opinion.”

Madam Pomfrey did a variety of tests that seemed to involve waving her hand around his ear and telling him when to turn his head.

*

Clint was reading the Green Arrow Frank had lent him when Barney reappeared by his bed. He’d since come down off the painkiller high, leaving a dull throbbing pain in the side of his head. Barney sat on the right side, the side that wasn’t currently underwater and in pain.

“Hey buddy. How’s it going?”

“I got my head slammed into a wall.”

“Well yeah. Apart from that.”

“My mouth still tastes weird from the potion.”

“So stop getting your head slammed into a wall. Uncle Alastor’s coming up.”

“Why?! I wasn’t that badly injured!”

Most people would lift their hands in a calming gesture here. Barney was not an idiot. He leaned back, keeping his hands low, and smiling slightly.

“OK, OK, take it easy there buddy. I’ll explain when Uncle Alastor gets here, OK? No need to stress.”

They waited in comfortable silence, Clint still reading Green Arrow, Barney working on an essay. From the scowl on his face, it wasn’t going well.

“Charms?”

“Shut up.”

“Do you want help?”

“Yes.”

Barney dropped the essay in Clint’s lap, continuing to scowl as Clint made a few corrections. He didn’t rewrite the entire essay, just strengthened Barney’s original argument. Honestly, it was like he hadn’t even read the book.

“You know, you could show off your brain to other people. Instead of acting like a dumbass who goofs off in class.”

“I like pretending to be dumb. People don’t think I’m a threat.”

Barney’s face twisted. “You know I got yelled at by Xavier when you enchanted paper planes in his class?”

Clint grinned. “That was pretty funny.”

Clint.”

Clint just continued to grin. Barney gave up eventually and reclaimed his essay. He copied it out, adding in Clint’s suggestions. Uncle Alastor showed up not long afterwards, stomping through the hospital wing. He greeted Madam Pomfrey with a head nod. Then they started talking, while on Clint’s left side. Clint looked to Barney.

“Madam Pomfrey says Chick’s hit damaged your left eardrum. There’s a solid chance you won’t hear out of that ear again. She says you’re not fully deaf in that ear though, only like 60%.”

“Oh, is that all?” asked Clint, feeling sick. “But you can’t be an Auror if you’re deaf.”

A gnarled hand landed on Clint’s shoulder. Uncle Alastor looked apologetic.

“You think hearing is what the Auror department looks for? We want people who can think, who can assess a situation, neutralise a threat.”

“Yeah.” said Barney. “They still keep Uncle Alastor around and he’s lost an eye.”

“He got a better one.”

“So we’ll get you a hearing aid.”

“Can it be purple?”

Uncle Alastor smiled. “I suppose it can be.”

Notes:

Yeah so that happened. Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments that have been left so far!! I'm glad you're enjoying this!

Chapter 20: Hogsmeade

Chapter Text

17th January 1976- Clint: 12, Barney: 15

 

Gadreel was attempting to convince Aaron not to buy a fourth Chocolate Frog in the attempt to get a Nicholas Flamel card when Gabriel and Jem came over. Predictably, Gabriel’s hands were full of sweets.

“How do you eat that much sugar?”

“Don’t judge baby brother.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Gabriel opened his mouth to continue being an ass as Akihiro stalked over. He was scowling but Aaron had learned he was always scowling. Just like Jem always looked angry.

“Any sign of Chick?” asked Aaron, mostly to stop Gabriel.

“None. Didn’t come to the common room yesterday. Lucifer says he didn’t sleep in his bed. Must think Barney’s going to set me or Jem on him.”

“I mean, he is.” said Gabriel. “We all know that. He set Jem on Black, remember?”

Jem’s face twisted into something unpleasant. Gabriel paid for his sweets and they headed outside as a group. Barney was backed against the wall of Honeydukes by a Ravenclaw boy. The boy was an inch or so taller than Barney, resting one arm by Barney’s head.

“Is Miles giving Barney shit?” asked Jem. “I’ll kill him.

Gabriel caught his friend’s arm. “I think Barney will kill you if you interrupt.”

Aaron’s initial thought that Barney was being threatened was clearly wrong on a second look. Barney was relaxed, his grin visible even from that far away. Miles said something and Barney ducked his head, running a hand through his hair.

“Merlin’s balls, is he flirting?” asked Jem.

“Does Barney know how to flirt?”

“Looks like it.”

Aaron snuck a look at Gadreel. His face was a mixture of hurt and resignation. He had never told Aaron about how he felt about Barney but Aaron was not a complete idiot. He’d seen the longing looks and the flushed cheeks. Miles tucked a strand of Barney’s hair behind his ear. Then he jerked his head in their direction. Barney followed his gaze. He said something to Miles who laughed and wandered away. Barney watched him go for a moment before ambling over to them.

“Were you flirting?” asked Jem, still sounding incredulous.

“Some people want to flirt with me.” replied Barney, oddly defensive. “Ash happens to be one of them.

“Ooh, Ash.” teased Akihiro. “First name terms now, are we?”

“Shut up.”

“I don’t like mullets.” said Aaron.

“Ash has a mullet.”

“Yeah and it looks stupid.”

It was the most ridiculous mullet Aaron had ever seen, the back going down past his shoulders. Barney just shrugged, dumb smile still on his face.

“Whatever.”

“He your date to the Slug Club?” asked Jem.

“Yeah.”

“I wanted to go.”

“Sorry, you’re not my type.”

“Bite me.”

“Still not my type.”

Gadreel said, “Oh fuck.”

As the strongest thing Gadreel usually said was ‘Merlin’, this stunned them all into silence. Aaron followed his best friend’s gaze, landing squarely on Chick and Lucifer at the end of the street.

“Jem, don’t do anything stupid.” said Gabriel immediately.

Jem was already baring his teeth. Chick swaggered up the street, Lucifer right behind him. He stopped a few metres away from them, still in the middle of the street. Hogwarts students were slowing down. Aaron could see Mulciber and Avery further down, as well as Sirius Black and Potter.

“Been lookin’ for you.” called Barney. “Somebody slammed my little brother’s head into a wall. You know anything about that?”

Chick shrugged. “Kid got in my way. C’mon, he should know better. Some random girl ahead of his own cousin?”

“Are you going to set Jem on him?” asked Lucifer nastily. “In the same way you set him on Black?

“You’re a chickenshit.” said Chick. “Just like your old man.”

Jem took a step forward but Barney caught his arm.

“Relax, Chick’s all talk. He can only beat up little kids.”

Chick flicked out a knife. Logically, Aaron knew he carried one. Hell, Aaron carried one outside of Hogwarts. But the ease with which Chick produced it… he was going to stab Barney. Barney shrugged off his jacket and passed it to Gadreel.

“You need a knife against an unarmed guy? Come on Chick, prove your balls haven’t shrivelled up completely.”

 ‘Unarmed’ was not really a word that could apply to Barney. His muscles were starting to get more and more defined and he was very capable of lifting Clint up. Aaron could feel the tension draw tight, even tighter when Chick laughed and threw his knife at Barney’s face. Barney caught it, flinging it into the wooden wall of Honeydukes.

“Come on you little fucker.” said Barney.

Chick charged. Aaron hastily pulled Gadreel out of the way. Gabriel skidded backwards, looking horrified. Chick took the first blow, delivering a powerful roundhouse kick into Barney’s hip. Barney staggered but recovered, blocking the next kick and sending Chick off balance. Then he moved close, delivering a series of punches into Chick’s stomach and ribs. He ducked the wild haymaker from Chick but couldn’t get out of the way of the uppercut. Aaron could feel his own jaw ache in sympathy.

“Merlin.” breathed Gadreel.

As Barney shook off the blow, Chick slammed a fist into his back. Kidney punches hurt like hell in Aaron’s experience. Barney stumbled, twisted, grabbed Chick’s clothes and dragged him round. He threw him then, slamming into the wooden wall that had previously had Akihiro leaning against it. Aaron had no idea where he’d gone but he didn’t dare take his eyes off the fight. The two cousins struggled, feet slipping in the snow. Somehow, Chick got Barney against the wall, slamming his own head into Barney’s. Blood spurted from Barney’s nose. Then Chick pulled another knife.

“Is he going to stab him?” asked Gabriel.

The answer was yes, the knife gliding between Barney’s ribs. A non-lethal place, thankfully, but not ideal. Chick then pushed himself away and began to head over to Lucifer.

“Chickenshit!” shouted Barney.

Chick turned. A throwing knife shot through the air, landing in the meat of Chick’s shoulder. Chick howled. Barney spat to the side then looked back up at Chick. His smile was bloodied and more than a little terrifying.

“I’m not done with you.”

He then shoved himself off the wall, bodyslamming into Chick. He pulled the knife from Chick’s shoulder and threw it to the ground. Then Barney slammed his fist into the bloody wound. Aaron swore, partly out of sympathy even for Chick and also out of sheer terror. Chick screamed but retaliated by punching Barney’s throat. Barney gagged but recovered admirably, swinging his fist directly for Chick’s head. Before it could connect, there was a jet of light and both boys were hurled backwards, away from each other. Thankfully, Barney stopped before he hit the wall. Black raced forwards, catching Barney when he tried to get up and go back to fighting. Lucifer and Akihiro were working together to hold Chick back.

“Let go of me!” snarled Chick. “I’ll kill you, I’ll kill your brother!”

“I’d like to see you try.” replied Barney.

His chest was heaving but he still sounded calm. Despite the knife sticking out of his ribcage. Aaron turned to see who had broken up the fight. Evans still had her wand out. But a far more frightening figure was there. McGonagall.

“Bring them inside, immediately.”

*

Gadreel looked down at the coat in his hands. It was Barney’s leather jacket, handed to him before the fight. Chick and Barney had both been dragged into the Three Broomsticks by McGonagall and Flitwick. Chick had lunged for Barney and Barney had gone for him too.

“Well.” said Lucifer. “That wasn’t how I expected today to go.”

Gadreel picked up Barney’s knife, the one that had been lodged in Chick’s shoulder. Blood coated the blade. He gingerly cleaned it with the Scouring Charm and slipped it into Barney’s jacket. Then he headed inside. Aaron was already inside, having pocketed the knife that got thrown into the wall at the start of the fight. Chick was currently in the common room, shirtless. The knife wound was being bandaged. His ribs were bruised and there was blood on his forehead, probably from where he’d headbutted Barney. Aaron was nowhere in sight. McGonagall gave Gadreel a stern look.

“I wanted to give Barney his jacket.”

“Upstairs.”

Chick was swearing viciously as Madam Rosmerta bandaged the stab wound.

“Madam Pomfrey will be here soon.”

Gadreel slipped up the stairs, knocking on a few doors. He finally found the right one when Aaron’s voice called “come in”. He entered. Barney was lying on the bed, Flitwick busily working on Barney’s own stab wound. Gadreel, foolishly, hadn’t expected Barney to be shirtless. Blood coated his mouth and his teeth were bloodstained. A dull bruise was forming along his jaw and along his ribs.

“I’ve got your jacket.”

Barney gave him a bloody smile. Gadreel could feel himself flushing. Fighting was not a good thing to find attractive, he reminded himself. He held the jacket in front of him, just in case. Flitwick shook his head. Aaron lingered by the window.

“Well, I’ve sped up the healing process but it will still hurt for at least a fortnight I’d say.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

“Don’t thank me young man, you are in an incredible amount of trouble. Come downstairs when you’re able.”

Barney waited for the professor to leave before letting out a long pained groan. Gadreel couldn’t tear his eyes away from Barney’s torso. Not just because of the bruises or the bandages but because of the long scar that ran the length of Barney’s chest, narrowly missing his pec. It was a deep ugly scar, still puckered and raised.

“Oh shit. Dumbledore’s here.” said Aaron, who was peering out of the window.

“Figures.”

“Fuck me, so’s the Old Man. And Aunt Miriam.”

“Wonderful. Go delay them.”

Aaron left immediately. Gadreel hovered, unsure of what to do. Barney pushed himself into a proper sitting position, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He groaned as he did so.

“Careful…”

Gadreel trailed off, fully aware of how ridiculous his next words would sound.

“Or I’ll hurt myself?” said Barney, half-smiling. “Aw fuck, my jaw.”

“Is it broken?”

“No. Just hurts like hell.”

Aaron reappeared in the doorway.

“Uncle Alastor’s on his way.”

“Where’s Jem?”

“Don’t know.”

“Find him.”

Aaron raced away again. Gadreel carefully put the jacket on the back of a chair and went over to the sink to fill up a bowl with water. He grabbed a towel too, guessing Madam Rosmerta wouldn’t mind too much. Or if she did, that the Old Man would sort it out. He headed back over to the bed, about to just offer the bowl and towel to Barney. Instead, Barney tilted his head up. Gadreel swallowed, very aware of how he’d done a similar thing to Ash Miles earlier. He dragged a chair over and wet the towel.

“Be gentle?” asked Barney with a smile.

“You should have thought of that before you got in a fight.”

Barney laughed then groaned. Gadreel set to work, apologising when Barney winced. Barney waved it off and Gadreel fell silent. When he was done, only the bruises remained. There was also a bruise forming on Barney’s throat.

“Does talking hurt?”

“A little. If Chick listened to Hansel it’d be worse.”

Barney glared at his shredded and bloodstained shirt but reluctantly pulled it on anyway. Gadreel had to help him out when he couldn’t lift his arms over his head. He also helped Barney shuffle down the stairs. The room was positively icy. Aaron and Jem were still nowhere to be seen. Chick was sat down still with a blonde lady fussing and cooing over him. Gadreel guessed she was Chick’s mother. Alastor Moody was stood there, arms folded. McGonagall and Flitwick were there too, probably as witnesses. It was the Old Man who was radiating anger though. He wasn’t a particularly tall man, most of the Moodys weren’t, and his hair was white but damn, he was still terrifying. He didn’t look particularly like Clint either, looking closer to Alastor. He was wearing formal robes, like Dumbledore, though his were dark blue not purple.

“You may go, boy.” said the Old Man.

“He has a name.” growled Barney.

“I didn’t give you permission to speak. This is a family matter, you may leave.”

Gadreel helped Barney to a chair.

“I’ll just get Barney’s coat for him.”

Once he’d done that, he left. And quickly.

*

Barney ached. Every inch of him ached. His ribs were the worst, especially the stab wound. It was radiating pain every time he breathed in or out. The back of his skull throbbed from where Chick’s headbutt had knocked it into the wall. He dragged his jacket round him, relieved that he could feel his throwing knife in his pocket. He’d have to thank Gadreel later.

“What exactly were you thinking, brawling in the middle of the street?” said the Old Man, icy cold. “You are one of the scions of House Moody, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. At fifteen, you should act like it.”

Barney didn’t know what a scion was. His back ached too from where Chick had kidney punched him.

“Chick beat some girl up. Cut her and was going to do other things. And he’s the reason Clint’s deaf in one ear.”

“My Chicky would never hurt his own family. Your brother must have attacked him.”

“Did you miss the bit where he attacked a thirteen-year-old girl?” replied Barney.

Ugh, his hip. That was going to make sitting on a broom uncomfortable. Although, by the time the stab wound healed and he was alright to play Quidditch again, the bruise would probably have faded.

“And you retaliated? She’s just some girl.”

“Francis!” said McGonagall, sounding shocked.

It was the first time Barney had ever heard anyone use the Old Man’s name.

“She didn’t deserve to be attacked.” replied Barney. “And Chick hit me first.”

Madam Rosmerta nodded. “I saw it kick off from the window. The blond lad kicked him in the hip.”

Barney waved a relatively pain-free arm in her direction. Uncle Alastor’s face was impassive. The Old Man started to rant again. Barney tuned most of it out but he did hear ‘disgrace to the family name’, ‘pair of animals’, and ‘just like their fathers’. That last one made him snap his head up. Ow.

“What did you say?”

“I said the pair of you are like your fathers.”

“My dad’s the best!” snapped Chick.

Uncle Alastor said, “Which is why he’s being hunted for murder.”

“Yeah! Best dad I ever had.”

“I’m nothing like my father.” said Barney tightly.

Laughter and screams echoed in Barney’s ears. He clenched his jaw, willing the memories down and telling himself the pain in his scar was a phantom. Not real, not real, not real, not real, not real.

“We must discuss Chick having knives at Hogwarts.” said Dumbledore.

Everyone left the pub at that, even though Chick had to be helped by his mother. She was still hysterical. Madam Rosmerta disappeared into the back room, leaving Uncle Alastor and Barney alone.

“Are you mad at me?” asked Barney.

“No. You did the right thing.”

Barney managed a smile. Fuck, one of his teeth was loose. It was a front one too. He wiggled it with his tongue and it completely detached itself. He spat it onto the table. Uncle Alastor chuckled.

“I don’t think Rosmerta will appreciate that.”

Barney grunted. Uncle Alastor leaned in conspiratorially.

“The name change came through. You should be appearing as Barney Moody now.”

“Good. So you’re not mad I had a throwing knife?”

Uncle Alastor shook his head. “Wait until you see your 16th birthday present.”

Barney laughed. “I think that’s a good thing. Ow, Merlin’s balls.”

“Go get some rest. You need it. And don’t forget to drink healing potions.”

“Yeah I will. See you Pops.”

Chapter 21: Valentine's Day

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

14th February 1976- Clint: 12, Barney: 15

 

“Listen, listen.” said Dean. “Valentine’s Day is bullshit.”

Benny laughed. “Have you always been so romantic?”

Clint leaned his head against Bobbi’s knees, grinning. They were on a set of stairs in the Entrance Hall, out of the way enough that they wouldn’t be disturbed by people going to and from the Great Hall but they could still see the Entrance Hall itself. And be seen, since they were waiting for Thor and Frank. Thor had a history of just… wandering past despite being shouted and waved at.

“No, listen, none of these couples are still gonna be together in a month. I bet.”

Clint tilted his head so he could meet Bobbi’s eyes and rolled his own. She grinned, combing her fingers through his hair.

“It’s not Dean’s fault nobody wants to send him a card.”

“Did you send a card?” asked Benny.

“No.” lied Bobbi.

Clint was there when she sent it. But in the interests of a) not betraying his best friend and b) not being murdered in his bed, he said nothing. Frank had also sent a card to someone but he had refused to say who.

“Thor!” shouted Dean. “THOR!”

Predictably, Thor walked straight past the staircase and into the Great Hall. Clint sighed. He would volunteer to get up and get him but Bobbi’s knee was super comfy. He saw Jason walking down with some of his friends and called over to him.

“Jay! Jay! Can you get Thor for me?”

Jason gave him an unimpressed look. “I’m not an owl.”

“I dunno, you’ve got massive eyes.” replied Clint. “Come on, please?”

“Don’t insult people who are bigger than you.”

“Then I wouldn’t insult any of you. Come on.”

“I don’t even know which one Thor is.”

“The big blond Gryffindor one. Please Jason? You’ll be my favourite cousin.”

“We both know that’s Will.”

“Second favourite cousin.”

“Fine! Fine, I’ll go and get your dumb friend.”

“Thank you!!”

Jason disappeared into the Hall, shaking his head as he said something to his friends. Benny leaned against the wall and popped an Ice Mouse into his mouth.

“Anyone want one?”

“Me please.” said Bobbi.

“Me.” said Dean.

“Didn’t your mum teach you any manners?”

“She died when I was four. No.”

Clint scuffled his feet. Dean had never mentioned his mom before so Clint had thought she was probably dead. But still. Four.

“I am here!” boomed Thor, arriving at the bottom of the stairs. “What are those?”

“Ice Mice. They make your teeth squeak. Wanna try one?”

“Yes!”

Thor then swallowed it whole, much to Benny’s chagrin. As he was explaining the correct way to eat Ice Mice, Frank arrived. He looked dejected, head hanging down. He collapsed wordlessly onto the bottom stair below Dean. Thor, who had taken a position below Clint, reached out to pat his shoulder.

“She did not take the card well?”

“No. She did not. Apparently she hates Valentine’s Day too.”

“I’m sorry dude.” said Clint.

Frank shrugged. “There’s always next year, I guess.”

Natasha and her friends, Rogers and Barnes, came out of the Great Hall. Natasha saw him and changed direction. The boys followed her, stopping a few feet away. Natasha deftly climbed around Frank, Dean, and Thor, to kiss Clint on the cheek.

“Thanks for the card.”

“Did you like it?”

Clint had convinced Gabriel to buy one on his Hogsmeade visit. Jem had been serving detention for breaking a suit of armour and Barney was currently avoiding walking long distances. Which included Hogsmeade. Most of his bruises had faded, leaving only the stab wound and the damage to his jaw to heal. And he now had a fake tooth.

“Yes. It’s lovely. Where did you get the Russian from?”

“Dictionary. Did I get it right?”

“Almost.”

Clint grinned as Natasha kissed his cheek again and left. Barnes scowled at him as the three of them headed off to do… something. Clint didn’t see much of Natasha at Hogwarts. Bobbi tugged strands of his hair.

“Ow?”

“I’m trying to braid it.”

“It’s too short.” replied Clint. “Ow!”

Bobbi sighed, as if Clint had deliberately cut his hair to deprive her of hair-braiding opportunities.

“Do mine!” said Thor.

Clint reluctantly swapped places with Thor, resting his head on the side of Benny’s thigh and his back against the wall. It was still reasonably comfortable.

*

Clint’s arms ached as he made his way back from archery practice. He’d also had some of Hagrid’s rock cakes. As long as you gnawed in the right place, they were really tasty. He entered the Entrance Hall, ready to head down to the kitchens and grab some toast when Bobbi appeared.

“Hey- oof!”

She flung her arms round him and kissed his cheek.

“Thanks for the card. It made that idiot Lockhart furious.”

“I’m always happy to help piss off Lockhart.”

“See you!” said Bobbi as she darted off with another Ravenclaw.

Clint grinned after her before making his way to the kitchen. Barney was already in there, talking to one of the house-elves. He laughed at whatever she said and eagerly accepted a cake.

“Hey. I thought you’d be on a date.”

Barney twisted, knife handle appearing in his palm before vanishing up his sleeve. Clint ignored it and came and sat next to him. One of the house-elves arrived with a plate of toast.

“You’re the best Frennic.” said Clint sincerely.

Frennic’s ears wiggled as he bustled off, muttering to himself about students being too kind.

“So, date?”

“I went on a date. I think.”

“You think?”

“Me and Ash hung out in the library, just us.”

“And Madam Pince.”

“You’re being a shithead.”

“Sorry.”

“Anyway. So it was just us at the table. And he sat next to me. Which he didn’t have to do. We were at a table for four. And we were studying and his leg kept bumping mine. And then he walked back to my common room. And then I told Akihiro who said I should have kissed him and then we went to eat, I saw him, kissed him, panicked and now I’m here eating my feelings.”

Clint’s silence was not because he disapproved of Ash Miles with his brother. Clint’s silence was because this was a lot of information to take in in thirty seconds. And at twelve, he didn’t have a great deal of experience with dating. Barney was tapping the table with his thumb, apparently unaware he was doing it.

“Maybe you should talk to Ash about it. He’s a cool guy.”

“You want me to talk to him?” said Barney incredulously.

“Fine, stay here and eat cake.”

“Eat your toast.”

“How’s your stab wound?”

“It’s fine. It’s almost healed. Madam Pomfrey says I can get back on my broom on Monday.”

Clint chewed his toast pensively. He’d known, from the minute Barney had charged into the hospital wing, he’d known Chick was going to get attacked.

“Why didn’t you get Jem to beat Chick up? Why did you do it?”

“Because he hurt you.”

“Black hurt me. You got Jem on it that time.”

Barney took a swig of his drink.

“Let it go.”

“But-”

“Clint. Let this one go.”

Clint, toast finished, got up from the table. He hugged his brother before making his way to the door.

“Good luck with Ash.”

As Clint was heading back to the Hufflepuff common room, he spotted Ash waiting outside. Ash pushed himself off the wall when he saw Clint.

“Hi.”

“Where’s Barney?”

“Kitchens.”

Notes:

Not as happy with this chapter but I rewrote it four times so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Let me know what you think!

Chapter 22: Anniversary

Chapter Text

18th June 1976- Clint: 12, Barney: 15

 

If anyone asked, Barney was not sulking. The fact that he was holed up in his room, slumped against his wall and glaring at the ceiling meant nothing. He was fussing Trick. Nobody sulked when they were playing with a cat. There was a knock at his door.

“Go away.”

OK, maybe he was sulking. The door was locked anyway. Until the person on the other side muttered under their breath and the lock sprang open. Usually Will respected his sulkiness and Uncle Alastor was having a super-important Order meeting that Clint wasn’t supposed to know about.

“Hey.”

Jason was stood in the doorway. On the list of cousins Barney had thought might turn up, Jason was not one of them. Jem, sure. Hansel or Gretel to try and cheer him up.

“What are you doing here?” asked Barney, too surprised to care about sounding rude.

He liked Jason but the two of them weren’t close. They were in different houses at Hogwarts, different years, and Jason never got in any fights for Barney to break up. Jason came in, closing the door and locking it. He sat on the floor next to Barney, instead of the perfectly good bed or desk chair.

“I know what day it is.” he said quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Hard to forget the day your granddad breaks down crying in the living room.”

“Oh.”

Jason stretched a hand out. Trick sniffed it cautiously before rubbing his cheek against him. Jason smiled.

“My dad died a week earlier. I mean, the anniversary is a week earlier. He died six years earlier.”

Barney watched Jason fuss Trick. He had a couple of callouses, like Barney, from gripping a broom. He was a good Keeper, one of the few that Barney actually found a challenge.

“You never talk about him. Your dad.”

“Gramps and Gran cry, Uncle Alastor isn’t exactly chatty. And you never talk about your mum.”

“Tell me about your dad.”

Jason smiled suddenly. Barney had never noticed how little he smiled. He was always the quiet one, the one not getting in a fight, the one not doing anything wrong.

“He was amazing. My mum was a Muggle you know. Dumped me and dad when she found out about magic. He had to obliterate her.”

“He what?!”

“Obliviate!” said Jason, laughing. “Obliviate. Sorry, that probably hits too close to home. Anyway, my dad was the best. He came to every school thing I had. Sports day, when I came last, he took me out for ice-cream. It was maybe, three, four months later, he sent me to the shops to buy some milk. I came back and the Dark Mark was over the house.”

“Was he…”

“Not quite.” replied Jason. “Not quite. Bleeding out on our doorstep. A dead Death Eater on the garden path. I had to step over them to get to him. Dropped the milk when I saw the mark.”

Barney whistled low under his breath. The whole house seemed to have stilled as Jason talked, even though Barney knew Will and Uncle Alastor were downstairs. Even Trick had gone still, looking up with huge green eyes.

“I went running over to him. And he smiled. Tried to tell me I’d be OK. Can you believe that? Bleeding out, dying, and he tells me I’ll be OK. Like I’m the one dying.”

“He sounds like a helluva guy.” said Barney. “I wish I’d met him.”

Jason smiled again, swiping away a tear. He seemed remarkably calm but he’d had nine years to recover. Barney searched for something else to say.

“My mom always baked a cake when I came home from Ilvermony. Always. Christmas, Easter, summer. Any flavour I wanted. So it was always strawberry.”

“Yuck.”

Barney grinned. “Clint said the same but he always tried to sneak an extra piece. She loved jazz too. You know that fifties music? She loved that. Always had it on when Dad was in a good mood. He hated it usually. It was playing the night she died.”

“Did you really see the whole thing?”

“I caused the whole thing. I went downstairs. For a drink or something, I don’t even remember. Her and Dad were dancing in the kitchen. I didn’t even want to interrupt, they looked so happy. But I must have made a noise or something because they stopped.”

He closed his eyes, thinking back. His mom never looked that happy, not after Clint was born. She always looked pinched and unhappy. Dad had been laughing, face lit up. He’d spun her, given her a kiss. Barney’s parents never kissed. Not in front of them.

“I came in, said I didn’t mean to interrupt, they could keep dancing if they wanted. They were good. And Dad stepped away from Mom and told her he needed her help. And mine too. That it was for a good cause.”

Barney felt his mouth twist as he spat the last two words out. He knew exactly what his father’s ‘good cause’ had been now.

 “I remember Dad getting a knife and coming at me. I moved and he got me here,” Barney gestured to the long puckered scar on his forearm, “and I punched him. First time I ever hit him back. Mom caught his arm. He let me go. She was screaming, he was yelling. Then he stabbed her. And then he stabbed her again. And again. Seven times.”

“What the fuck?” said Jason.

“Yeah. That’s what I said. I don’t know why he started stabbing me. Fists were always good enough for him. Then he just… took off. Disappeared. I think the Aurors think he’s somewhere in Senegal.”

“Maybe the sun will burn him to death.”

Barney smiled. “That… I like that idea.”

*

Clint swore as he tripped over a tree root. This had seemed like an excellent idea, right up until he had actually gone into the park. Bobbi was with him, carrying the flowers.

“So, your mum really doesn’t have a grave?”

“No. Goddammit, how many trees does this park have?!”

“It’s the largest public park in Europe, quite a few.”

“I mean, she does have a grave.” said Clint. “She’s got an actual grave with like a headstone and everything back in Waverly. But we’re not there anymore. And she’s got the marker in the Moody cemetery up in Underhill. But we’re not there right now. I just… I don’t want her to feel lonely. Nobody visits her grave. And I don’t know if anyone visits the marker.”

Bobbi stayed quiet until they got to the spot Clint had been looking for. It was a small pool, cut off from the view of most of the public by trees leaning down between it and the boating lake. Clint had found it by accident, when he and Will had gotten lost during the Christmas holidays. It was the sort of place that would make Clint’s mom sigh and say ‘It’s pretty enough to make you believe in magic’.

“Wasn’t she a witch?” asked Bobbi when Clint told her this.

“I asked her that once. She said she meant a different kind of magic.”

Clint stepped off the path and onto the soil. There was a small rock that he’d propped up, serving as a headstone. He knelt down, ignoring the mud that seeped into his jeans. Bobbi gave him the flowers and withdrew.

“Hey Mom. It’s me, Clint. I hope you can hear me. I miss you. Barney misses you too, I know he does. Uncle Alastor says hi. He takes out that photo of you, him, Uncle Jaime and Uncle Douglas that you had in the living room when he thinks I’m not looking. I think you’d’ve liked coming back to England.”

He traced the lines of the stone with one hand, thinking of something else to say. But there wasn’t anything, not really.

“I miss you Mom. I’ll come see you at Underhill the next time I’m up there.

Chapter 23: Summer Ball

Chapter Text

2nd August 1976- Clint: 12, Barney: 16

 

Gabriel sprawled on the couch as he admired the room. The Ministry had outdone themselves with the Summer Ball. It was held in Diagon Alley, in one of the event halls the Ministry had kept from the glory days of the 17th and 18th centuries. The room had light in the form of candles hanging from elaborate chandeliers or in candelabras. Couches decorated the sides of the room, next to coffee tables. Perfect for guests to lounge while they waited to dance. There was even a dance floor though it would be for traditional dances, the waltz and such.

“I fucking hate this shit.” said Akihiro by way of greeting.

“Nice to see you too.”

“After this, we chuck the robes and go get pissed at that Muggle pub.”

“The Railway and Naturalist? That place is a dive!”

Akihiro sent him a sly grin that said ‘exactly’. He settled on the sofa next to Gabriel. Akihiro had a knack of lounging on furniture. Gabriel preferred to sprawl. They were both in dress robes, Gabriel because he didn’t own formal Muggle clothes, and Akihiro because he had lost a bet with one of his sisters.

“Who are you here with? Laura?”

“You’d like that.” said Akihiro with no heat. “She’s away. I’m with Dad.”

“No siblings?”

“He’s showing me how security works.”

“Huh.” said Gabriel. “Finding a career?”

“I get to hit people.”

Gabriel laughed. “Jem should work with you.”

“Barney wouldn’t let him.” replied Akihiro. “Prefers to pick who he sets him on.”

“Aki.” said Gabriel as an attempt to scold him.

Predictably, Akihiro ignored him. The two of them settled into a comfortable silence as they watched the crowds. Gabriel caught sight of Michael gladhanding Cornelius Fudge and Barty Crouch. Lucifer was in a corner with Lucius Malfoy, looking unbearably smug. Gabriel sometimes wondered if Lucifer knew where Chick was. Castiel was huddled in the darkest corner, reading. Gabriel contemplated rescuing him but that involved getting up. Gadreel was nowhere to be seen. His father was chatting to the Minister for Magic.

“There’s an announcer here.” said Akihiro. “To announce people who come in. It’s insane.”

“Don’t they do that in Japan?”

“I don’t get to go to the fancy parties.” replied Akihiro tightly.

Gabriel didn’t ask. Akihiro didn’t talk about his mother’s side, even less than Jem mentioned his. He caught sight of Rosier, Mulciber and the Averys. Gabriel caught sight of red hair. His first thought was a Weasley but they weren’t prestigious enough to get an invite to something like this. The head turned and disappeared into the mass. Then the crier, some irrelevant intern who was not being paid enough to do such a menial job, called out again.

“Presenting Francis Moody of House Moody, his heir Alastor Moody, Hansel Moody, Gretel Moody, James Moody, Barney Moody and companion Karla Sofen!”

“Wait, did he say Barney Moody?” asked Gabriel.

“Did he say Karla?”

Then the Moody family appeared at the top of the stairs. Gabriel felt his jaw drop. The Old Man looked as imposing as ever, with severe black robes and his silver ram-headed cane. Alastor looked terrifying, eye flashing across the room. Gretel stood arm-in-arm with her brother, both of them in matching dress robes. Karla was arm-in-arm with Jem and Barney. Both boys were in Muggle suits, matching Karla’s Muggle dress. Barney was standing tall, looking for all the world like a prince surveying his court as he looked down at the room. Jem looked particularly vicious, a sneer on his mouth. Karla was as gorgeous as ever, in a dark green Muggle dress. When the Moodys reached the bottom of the staircase, they split. Barney and Karla, still arm-in-arm, came over to Gabriel and Akihiro, Jem shadowing them as if a bodyguard. Or a guard dog. Barney seemed to fit in effortlessly, flashing a casual smile to Fabian Prewett, disdainfully eyeing Abraxas Malfoy, and calling a good-natured comment to Michael.

“Has he been practicing?” asked Gabriel. “He isn’t like this at the Slug Club.”

“He only goes to the Slug Club so Miles will blow him.” replied Akihiro. “Why did he bring Karla?”

Gabriel was spared from responding to either of those sentences by the arrival of their friends. Barney held his hand out subtly to stop Jem from sitting as Karla stole the seat between Gabriel and Akihiro. Gabriel shifted up slightly so one of the boys could sit if they chose to. Neither of them did.

“Is that Firewhisky?” asked Gabriel to Jem. “They served you Firewhisky?”

Jem offered him some. Gabriel refused. His father was somewhere as was his mother. Any hint of something stronger than Butterbeer would stop him from going out tonight.

“We’re out tonight.” said Akihiro. “Are you coming like that?”

The question was directed at Karla, who looked slightly hurt.

“No, I was going to change into casual clothes.”

“Akihiro,” said Barney quietly, “you’re in danger of being a dickhead.”

His American accent was stronger than usual. It was a surprise to hear it so strong.

“When did you become a Moody?” asked Gabriel, eager to change the subject.

“Deed came through yesterday. I’ll get a bollocking off Uncle Mack when the news reaches him. He might be here tonight.”

It was always entertaining to hear Barney say phrases like that. Gabriel assumed Mack was Magnus Barton, current head of House Barton. It was possible the red head Gabriel saw earlier belonged to him.

“I’ve got Aging Potion.” said Akihiro. “And ID.”

“Where are we going?” asked Jem.

“Railway and Naturalist.”

Barney laughed. “Well, we’ll definitely be the best-looking people in there.”

Not to mention the richest. While Akihiro’s dad was not a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight or in possession of a seat on the Wizengamot, he was still well-connected and well-funded. Akihiro had money to throw around. Jem’s money was controlled by his father, true, but Douglas Moody was noticeably uncaring about his son and tended to throw money at him in the hopes it would fix him. This approach was yet to work. Karla was the only one that was poor by wizarding standards. And possibly Muggle standards. Gabriel hadn’t inquired. Barney seemed to come into money frequently, though Gabriel wasn’t sure how, since Alastor Moody didn’t have any of his own. And then there was Gabriel himself.

“Michael wants you.” said Jem.

“Who doesn’t?” replied Barney. “I’ll be back.”

With that, he ventured back into the crowd. He finished his drink as he was skirting the dance floor. Gabriel watched as he carelessly left his glass on a waiter’s tray, not even looking at him. It struck Gabriel as an un-Barneylike thing to do. This was the boy that thanked house elves.

“You do look good.” said Akihiro. “I should have said that. I meant you’d look too good to go out.”

“You phrased it horribly.” replied Karla coolly. “Rephrase the question.”

Jem laughed out loud. Gabriel smiled despite himself. Barney had reached Michael and shaken his hand. He chatted to Michael and the people with him, none of whom Gabriel recognised.

“You look good tonight. In your suits. More wizards should wear suits.” said Gabriel.

Karla agreed with him. Akihiro offered to wear a suit to the next Slug Club. Karla gently pointed out that he never got near the Slug Club.

“You could invite me. As your date. I’d be your personal waiter.”

Karla laughed. “I think Barney’s playing that role tonight.”

“How did you decide who was going to be your ‘companion’?” asked Gabriel. “Two handsome boys, not sure how I’d pick.”

“Barney asked me. Jem didn’t.”

Jem shrugged. Akihiro had let his arm drift around Karla’s shoulders. She didn’t seem to mind, leaning in.

“Why did you want to come?” asked Akihiro. “I didn’t think this would be your kind of thing.”

“Every girl likes to feel like a princess sometimes. And I came with a very handsome prince.”

*

Barney reappeared an hour later. Akihiro had wandered off to find food, Jem stealing his seat. Akihiro had since returned, irritably announcing that there was no food. Gabriel was on his third Butterbeer, working hard to achieve a slight buzz.

“Michael talks for hours.” complained Barney as he came up the stairs to the sofa. “He wanted to know my opinion on the dragon rehabilitation discussion. I wasn’t even aware there was a dragon rehabilitation discussion.”

A waiter appeared with five drinks effortlessly balanced on a tray. Gabriel recognised a Hippogriff, his favourite drink of the month, two Firewhiskies and what looked like a Muggle beer. The waiter handed the Hippogriff to Gabriel, the Firewhiskies to Jem and Akihiro and the beer to Karla. Barney himself had a Butterbeer in hand. The waiter vanished back into the crowd.

“Dyer’s Twelve, I hate this shit.”

“Really?” asked Jem with more acid in his voice than necessary. “You seem to be having a good time.”

“I have to network.” replied Barney tightly. “Some of us have to plan for life after Hogwarts.”

It seemed a tad unnecessary to start planning two years before leaving. Gabriel’s plan was to spend his trust fund.

*

“What do you mean, you adopted a dog?” asked Barney.

Jem looked up. Barney was on his mobile, a weird Muggle device he’d bought while out with Hansel and Gretel. Jem hadn’t been invited, something that rankled a little. They were currently waiting outside an alley while Karla, Akihiro, and Gabriel finished getting changed.

“Chickenbutt. Yes, I know I’m a third of your impulse control. Weren’t Bobbi or Will with you?”

Jem glanced over his shoulder when he felt someone coming out of the alley. Karla had changed into jeans. Jem let his eyes flick up and down her.

“My eyes are up here.” said Karla without any bite.

“Oops.”

Karla rolled her eyes and leaned against the railing that stopped drunk people falling into the road. They were about two minutes from the Nats, in the darker part of the street. They’d finally been freed from the Summer Ball, taken a sip of the Aging potion, and then Apparated into an alley. Barney, predictably, had vomited before heading into the street and calling Clint.

“Does Pops know about this? Why would it be my responsibility to call him?”

“What’s going on?” asked Gabriel as he came out.

He’d dressed in a button-down shirt and jeans too. Akihiro was in a leather jacket.

“Where did those clothes come from?” asked Barney as he ended the call.

“My bag.” said Karla. “Undetectable Extension Charm.”

“Nice.” replied Jem.

“Who was on the phone?” asked Gabriel as they walked to the pub.

Barney rolled his eyes. “My brother has adopted a dog.”

“From a shelter? That’s sweet.”

“No, no. He found a dog on the street, gave it pizza, and it followed him home. So we now have a dog.”

Gabriel asked, “Where was Will?”

“Giving him pizza.” replied Barney.

Jem laughed. They arrived at the pub and slipped in. Barney flicked his ID, a fake driver’s licence at the bartender before he led the way to a table at the back. Gabriel stopped at the bar to get the first round. Karla hung back with him to help carry the drinks.

“I’m glad that’s over for a few months.” said Barney.

Akihiro made a noise of agreement. “Do you think Karla would say yes if I asked her out?”

“Depends how you ask her out.”

“Explain.”

As Barney went through dating advice, Jem went to the toilet. He wasn’t interested in dating. When he returned, Gabriel and Karla had the drinks ready. Jem grabbed his beer and downed half of it in one swig. Barney had taken his tie off and undone his top button. He had one arm slung along the back of the booth.

Jem hated him when he looked like this. At the ball he looked so much more unattainable, like a pure-blood prince, too polished and family-friendly. Here he looked dangerous, a smirk on his face as he held the eyes of a nervous-looking boy across the bar. He looked like everything Jem tried not to think of late at night.

“My round.” said Barney, sliding out from the table.

On his way there, he stopped at a table to speak with two girls. He flashed them both a sunny smile before he left to go to the bar. Both girls turned to watch him go. Barney returned, eventually, distributing the glasses.

“You’re in a weird mood tonight.” said Gabriel.

“Blame the beer.” replied Barney.

He was only on his second Muggle beer. But Barney rarely drank more than two Butterbeers. Gabriel went to flirt with the girls Barney had been talking to. Barney threw himself down next to Jem.

They spent the next two hours in the pub, relaxing and talking. Barney invited all three friends up to Underhill for the last two weeks of summer. The Old Man would be away, leaving Conall in charge, Jem and Barney’s grandfather. He was much more willing to make contact with the outside world. Barney’s phone exploded into noise. Barney answered it mid-sentence, covering his other ear.

“What? Yeah. No. Out. What? What? Yeah. I’m on my way.”

He stood up, draining his drink. He snagged his suit jacket off the back of his chair.

“I have to go. I’ll see you at Underhill.”

With that he was gone, leaving the pub a little dimmer and Jem very annoyed.

Chapter 24: Detention

Chapter Text

8th September 1976: Clint- 12, Barney- 16

 

“What are you doing here?” asked Clint as Laura and Castiel walked into the room.

“We have detention.” said Castiel.

Clint and Winchester looked at each other. Barnes was sat there too, examining his knuckles moodily.

“What happened to your hand?” asked Laura.

Barnes replied, “Fight.”

“In your defence,” said Winchester, “Rogers started it.”

“Yeah and you joined in.” retorted Clint. “I was supposed to go two weeks with no detention to make up for the dog.”

“What dog?” asked Winchester.

“I adopted a dog. Barney and Pops were away.”

“I didn’t see him when I stayed at yours.”

“Yeah, his owners took him back.”

McGonagall’s arrival ended the conversation about Clint’s dog. Filch was next to her, smiling. That worried Laura. Nothing good ever came of Filch smiling.

“For your detentions you will be assisting Hagrid tonight, in the Forbidden Forest.”

“Are we allowed in there?” asked Laura. “Isn’t it forbidden?”

McGonagall glared at her, making Laura feel about two inches high. She spotted Clint and Barnes trying not to laugh out of the corner of her eye. The five students reluctantly followed Filch down to Hagrid’s hut. Filch spent the whole time telling them they were likely to die in the Forest. Hagrid was outside, crossbow in hand and two sacks at his feet.

“Better look out.” sneered Filch. “There’s dark things in that forest.”

He slunk away, leaving them to look up at Hagrid.

“Are we really going into the Forest?” asked Castiel. “I thought it was forbidden for good reason.”

“You’ll be with me.” said Hagrid confidently. “We’re going to collect some ingredients for Professor Slughorn. Valuable in Potions and not too far in. Right, light your wands and follow me. Stick close too, Forest’s been restless of late. Clint, get that bow.”

Clint grimaced and disappeared around the back of Hagrid’s hut. He reappeared with a quiver slung over his back and a bow almost as tall as him in his hand.

“Ready.”

The other four lit their wands. They formed a loose V as they entered the trees, Hagrid leading, Clint at the back. Laura kept her wand held high, scanning for roots and other things that could trip her up. Barnes had already tripped once. The Forest had an oppressive air. Laura kept expecting to find it difficult to breathe. Twenty minutes in, they came to a fork in the path.

“Here we go!” said Hagrid cheerfully. “Knotgrass down there, aconite down there. Who’s picked them before?”

“I have.” said Castiel. “Aconite with my father.”

“Right then. Castiel, you can take Clint and Laura down to the aconite. Dean, Bucky, you come with me.”

Laura wasn’t sure she wanted another twelve-year-old as protection. She’d prefer the giant with a crossbow, personally. Clint trailed Castiel and Laura. Castiel was the one to spot the plant. Laura and Castiel filled the bag, while Clint just stood there.

“Help would be appreciated.” said Castiel. “Nothing is going to hurt us.”

Clint scowled. “Then why did Hagrid tell me to bring the bow?”

A cry echoed across the Forest, cutting off Castiel’s retort. This was followed by a shriek from the direction of the others.

“What was that?” asked Laura.

“First one was an Irish phoenix.” said Clint. “Aug- augur -”

“Augurey.” corrected Castiel. “They predict death, according to folklore.”

“Death?!”

“Yeah that. There’s one up at Underhill. Cries when it rains, not for death. So the fuckers never shut up at Christmas. The shriek was Dean. He doesn’t like the Forest.”

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever agreed with Winchester.” said Laura.

Clint let out a sudden laugh. “Probably the first time I have. An…”

“Augurey.”

“Isn’t anything to be scared of. They’re pretty shy. Didn’t know they lived here.”

Laura relaxed slightly and went back to plucking leaves off the stem, like Castiel showed her. She still felt like they were being watched.

“Don’t suppose that sack’s nearly full?” asked Clint.

“Nearly.” said Castiel.

There was a high-pitched scream, too high to be human from the others. Clint nocked an arrow but didn’t pull his string back. He was a lot more alert though, eyes flickering across the undergrowth. Laura was glad they didn’t have to leave the path. The Forest was scary enough when you had a clear way out. Clint pulled the string back suddenly, the arrow flying into the shadows. There was another scream that went on too long to be human. Then it ended suddenly.

“What was that?”

“Did you hit it?”

“I don’t know.” replied Clint, jaw tight.

Hagrid, Winchester, and Barnes arrived moments later. Winchester was pale underneath his freckles and Barnes was clutching the sack tightly.

“Time to go.” said Hagrid. “Don’t want you to be out after curfew and gettin’ another detention.”

Clint had another arrow resting on the string. Castiel hastily tied the sack shut and they followed Hagrid. Winchester ended up walking next to Laura. She was probably as pale as he was.

“Did you see what it was?”

“No. Hagrid shouted though.”

Laura caught Winchester’s hand, mostly to reassure herself. Winchester squeezed her hand.

“We’ll be fine.” he said quietly.

“It’s twenty minutes back to the grounds.”

“We’ve got Clint.”

Clint didn’t seem to hear them. The rest of the walk went in silence, Winchester and Laura holding hands all the way. Laura took a deep breath when they finally reached Hagrid’s hut. She’d never been so happy to see the little hut in her life. Hagrid took the sacks off Castiel and Barnes. Clint disappeared around the corner and reappeared without his bow or arrows. Colour was beginning to return to Winchester’s face.

“Right, off you go. Goodnight.”

“Night Hagrid.”

The five of them headed back to the castle in a close group. They reached the Entrance Hall and hovered by the main stairs. The entrance doors opened again and the older Barton walked in. Or Moody, Laura supposed since his Quidditch robes had Moody stitched to the back now.

“Barney? Where the hell have you been?”

“Could ask you the same question.”

“Detention in the Forest. Your turn.”

Moody winced, pulling a face in sympathy. “You remember the Summer Ball I had to go to? The one where you got a bloody dog?”

“Lucky is a great dog.”

“Also not yours. Anyway, I got chatting to Sam Russell!”

Silence followed this pronouncement. Moody looked bewildered.

“Sam Russell!”

“Who?”

“Dyer’s Twelve. The Scottish coach.”

“For what team?”

“SCOTLAND!”

Clint still looked confused. “A Quidditch team?”

“The Scottish national Quidditch team, how are you my brother? He invited me for a tryout, that’s where I’ve just been.”

“And??” asked Clint.

Laura had a good idea. Moody’s mouth was twitching.

“And I got in. I’m on the team.”

Clint let out a whoop of joy and hurled himself into Moody’s arms. Moody caught him, easily lifting him for a hug. The two of them had identical joyful grins. Moody stopped swinging Clint about, dropping him to the floor but still hugging him.

“Congratulations Barney, if anyone could do it you can.” said Castiel.

“Thanks Cassie.” said Moody, reaching over to ruffle his hair.

This surprised Laura on two fronts. One, Castiel hated being called ‘Cassie’ and two, he wasn’t a great fan of physical contact.

“You hate being called Cassie.”

“You do?” asked Moody, surprise obvious. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you knew.” said Castiel. “You are Gabriel’s friend. I thought you were being obnoxious and when I realised you simply didn’t know, it was too late.”

“I’ll stop, promise.”

Castiel hugged Moody, a quick precise thing that lasted all of two seconds.

“I really am pleased for you.”

“Thanks. So am I.”

Winchester also congratulated Moody, his face no longer pale. Moody couldn’t seem to stop grinning.

“Wait, how does that work with Slytherin Quidditch? And homework and Han- other stuff?” asked Clint.

“I’ll move the Slytherin practice to the days I’m not with Scotland. Homework I can do in my free periods. And the other stuff… that’s just gonna have to take a back seat.”

“The Old Man’s gonna kill you.”

“The Old Man can kiss my ass.” replied Moody. “Listen, you’d better get your asses to the common rooms. Or get a second detention.”

They split up then, exchanging awkward goodbyes. Barnes and Winchester headed up the stairs to their common room, while Moody accompanied the Hufflepuffs part way. Then he split off, after ruffling Clint’s hair, and headed down to the dungeons.

“Who’s the Old Man?” asked Laura.

“What is Hansel doing with you?” asked Castiel.

“He’s my great-grandfather. Head of the family, grumpy old git. I think he went to school with Dumbledore.”

He didn’t answer Castiel’s question. Laura was sure he must have heard it, he had the purple aids in his ears after all. They headed into the common room which was still full. Clint immediately made his way over to Frank Castle, settling down on the floor next to his chair. The two of them began an animated but quiet discussion. Laura and Castiel found a corner of the common room to sit in.

“Remind me never to go into the Forest again.” said Laura.

Chapter 25: Player of the Match

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

7th November 1976: Clint- 12, Barney- 16

 

Clint skittered into the empty classroom, hurling himself into a seat next to Jason.

“Am I late? Did I miss it?”

“It hasn’t started yet.” said Aaron. “How could you miss an entire match?”

Clint shrugged. “Slughorn kept me in detention for ages.”

They were crowded around a table, a radio in the middle. Aaron had cast a charm to produce small subtitles for Clint to read. Barney’s first match for Scotland. Clint was both incredibly excited and incredibly nervous with a dash of pride added in to make him a jittery mess all day. Bobbi came in seconds later, shoving Clint to the side so she could sit down. It was a tight fit, with all the cousins there, even Heck, Gadreel, Barney’s friends, and Clint’s.

“Hey. When does it start?”

“Five minutes.” said Jason. “They’re warming up now.”

Just as the teams lined up opposite each to sing the national anthems, the door opened. Clint didn’t notice at first, too distracted by the subtitles. Then voices filtered in through his hearing aids and he looked up. Natasha was stood there with Rogers and Barnes.

“We came to listen to Barney’s match.” said Natasha.

“Hurry up.” snapped Jem.

Bobbi promptly shoved Clint into Jason, making enough room for Natasha to sit down next to her.

“Ow.” said Clint, even though it hadn’t hurt.

Rogers and Barnes sank into chairs too. Clint listened, transfixed, as the Quaffle was flung into the air.

“Who are we playing?” asked Barnes.

“Belgravia.” said Clint.

“Bulgaria.” corrected Bobbi.

Clint felt himself flush a little. He must have misread Barney’s lips. The match continued, with neither Seeker showing any signs of getting near the Snitch.

“It’s a wild shot there from Moody, unlikely to- IT’S IN! SCOTLAND TAKE THE LEAD!”

“WHOO!”

“YES!”

“That’s my boy!”

The table erupted into cheers, even Rogers and Barnes. Clint high-fived Bobbi and Natasha.

“In his first game, Moody has put himself on the scoreboard. That’ll give his doubters something to think about.”

“Like you weren’t one of them.” snarled Jem.

Bobbi shushed him as the game started again. The game continued. Bulgaria managed to pull ahead again, much to Clint’s disgust. Barney was put back on the field, having originally been switched out for one of the more experienced players.

“And it’s Moody with the Quaffle, lovely little roll there to keep the Bulgarian Chaser at bay. Couldn’t quite see which number it was, there he goes, towards the net, arms up, little feint there, and it’s through the middle hoop!! Don’t think the Keeper quite knew which way to go there. That’s a goal for Scotland, scored by number 21 Barney Moody, assisted by number 89 Eric McLaughlin.”

Jason and Clint let out identical whoops of excitement. Rogers and Barnes high-fived Natasha and Bobbi.

“No wonder Slytherin always win.” said Barnes. “I didn’t know how good he was.”

“I did.” boasted Clint.

Bobbi smacked him upside the head.

“And the teams are facing off again for the Quaffle launch. It’s off, it’s Dwyer with the Quaffle, cross-pitch pass to McLaughlin, McLaughlin to Dwyer, Dwyer to Moody, Moody getting pressured by the Bulgarians here, Bludger on its way, this could be nasty. What a dodge there from Moody! It’s- IT’S IN! BARNEY MOODY GETS THE QUAFFLE IN! That’s two goals in three minutes from the 16 year-old player and a hattrick for his first game. What a shot!”

“Attaboy!” said Jason.

“We need to let off some fireworks or something when he gets back.” said Aaron.

They listened, or read in Clint’s case, to the rest of the match intently. Barney didn’t manage to score again but the Scottish Seeker grabbed the Snitch, ensuring Scotland’s win.

“And now for the players of the match. For the visiting Scotland, it’s the youngest player to ever score a hattrick in his first game, it’s no surprise… number 21 Barney Moody!”

Clint grabbed Natasha and pulled her up for a celebratory dance. Natasha for once didn’t complain even slightly, whirling round the room with him. Then she dragged Rogers up while Clint danced with Thor. Even Jem was dancing with Bobbi. They were too busy celebrating to hear the Bulgarian player of the match, but they didn’t care. Clint grabbed Jem. Heck didn’t dance but he was clapping.

“Can you get fireworks?”

“Fuck yeah. Tomorrow night, we’ll set some off by the lake.”

“I’ll bring the food.” said Clint. “Steve, Bucky, are you coming?”

“Absolutely.” said Steve. “Right Buck?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

Clint let out another whoop. He didn’t even bother trying to do his homework that night, too busy retelling the goals to Frank, despite the fact that Frank had been there. Frank didn’t seem to mind, excitedly joining in to rephrase things Clint had said. It took a very long time to fall asleep that night.

*

The next day, Clint was too excited to eat breakfast. It was Sunday, which meant Barney was coming back any moment. Jem and Akihiro had slunk off somewhere to get fireworks but had returned before breakfast.

“Did you get them?” asked Clint, deliberately keeping it vague.

“Yeah. Ready and waiting. Even know a good spot.”

Clint fought back his grin. Then the doors to the Great Hall opened and Barney walked in. He still had his kit bag in one hand and his broom in the other. Clint scrambled off the bench, shoving a first-year out of the way, and hurled himself at his brother. Barney dropped his kit bag and gently moved his broom to the side, catching Clint effortlessly.

“Did you listen to the match?” he asked.

“HATTRICK!” yelled Clint in response.

Barney threw his head back with laughter. Then Jem was there, so Clint dropped to the ground, still with his arms wrapped around Barney. Barney kept one arm around him as he gave Jem a one-armed hug, then Aaron, then Jason, then Bobbi.

“We’ve got a party planned.” muttered Jem. “Tonight. Eight o’clock. Be there.”

“I will, I will. Wait, be where?”

“Akihiro’ll take you.”

“That’s not mysterious and cryptic at all.” said Barney.

Once the hugs were done, Clint reluctantly untangled himself from Barney. Barney, still looking like he didn’t quite believe it, went to sit down at the Slytherin table, accepting most of the backslaps and handshakes. He hugged Natasha when she congratulated him, and Heck to annoy him. Akihiro ruffled his hair, Gabriel high-fived him. Karla blew him a kiss from the Ravenclaw table. Half of Slytherin was cheering. Clint didn’t blame them. He was very tempted to join in. McGonagall rose to her feet, calling for silence.

“Congratulations Mr Moody, on a well-played game. I believe twenty House points per goal are an acceptable reward. And fifty for your position of player of the match.”

The entire silver and green table erupted into cheering and yelling at that point. Despite being halfway across the Great Hall, Clint could see the faint blush on Barney’s face.

“How many points is that?” asked Clint.

“A hundred and ten.” replied Sam.

“Fuck me.” said Clint.

*

The rest of the day was spent getting the site ready for the party. It was along the lakefront, hidden from view by a small mound of grass that dropped off sharply to reveal the small beach. A few rocks, that Clint suspected had been strategically placed by former Hogwarts students, made it difficult to see past from the outside. Jem and Akihiro were transferring the fireworks, Gadreel, Frank, and Jason were moving the food via house-elf. It was all ready. Karla had even created a campfire out of Bluebell Flames.

Everything was ready. All they needed now was Barney. Clint was the one sent to fetch him. He grabbed Benny and the two of them headed to the common room.

“Why couldn’t I stay by the lake?”

“Because you need to go in to get Barney. And Natasha and Steve. Thor already got Bucky.”

When they arrived at the common room, Clint took his hearing aids out while Benny whispered the password. He put them back in and waited for Benny to reappear. He did a few minutes later, Barney in tow.

“Hey kid.” said Barney cheerfully. “Where´s the party?”

“This way.”

The three of them make their way to the Entrance Hall and then out. Barney raised his eyebrows.

“It’s November. Gonna get pretty cold pretty soon.”

“We thought of that.” said Clint.

He didn’t say duh but he hoped it was evident in his tone. From the look Barney gave him, it was. Benny, used to the bickering, led the way to the party spot. Clint felt his mouth drop open. The others had been hard at work since Clint and Benny left. There was a string of lights across the rocks and a banner that read ‘MVP: #21 B. MOODY’ complete with a drawing of Barney in his Scotland Quidditch gear. Barney laughed.

“Guys, this is insane. You didn’t have to do this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” said Aaron.

Akihiro turned on the stereo he found from somewhere and Barney went with the flow. Clint found Natasha and sat next to her, at the side of the rocks. He leaned in, resting against her.

“Don’t look now,” said Clint, “but I think Jason’s about to dance.”

“Merlin.”

“I think he’s making Heck dance.”

“I’m definitely not looking.”

*

Barney laughed as he handed Karla to Gabriel. The two of them started dancing together while Barney escaped to the food. He took a swig of his Butterbeer, waving over to Clint. Clint, who was currently possibly having a rock-climbing competition with Thor. Dean was egging them both on, along with Steve.

“Having fun?” asked Aaron as he stopped to collect food of his own.

“This is crazy. Thanks. For setting this up.”

Aaron grinned. “Perks of being everybody’s favourite cousin.”

Barney waved the compliment off. Aaron grabbed three burgers and headed over to Jason. He promptly crammed two of them in his mouth. At the same time. Barney was both impressed and horrified.

“Man of the hour and you’re hanging out by yourself?” asked Jem.

“Hey man, I’m having fun.” said Barney. “I’ve been dancing.”

“So I saw.”

“Thanks. For this.”

“Wait til we set the fireworks off.”

“What?” said Barney. “You have fireworks? We’re going to get detention.”

Jem shrugged. “We’re already gonna break curfew.”

That was an excellent point. One Barney couldn’t find it in himself to care about. He was player of the match, he’d scored a hattrick, his friends and family were here for a party. Fuck curfew. Fuck the essay he was supposed to be doing. He took a swig of his drink as Jem headed over to encourage or mock Clint on the rock climb. Heck had even deigned to talk, chatting to one of Clint’s friends… Frank Barney thought. It was difficult to tell, with the shadows from the fire and the lights. Gadreel came over, scanning the table of food.

“Hey.” said Barney. “I can’t believe they managed to scam this much food from the house-elves.”

“Just had to ask nicely.” replied Gadreel.

At least, that was what Barney thought he said. Gadreel mumbled a lot. Barney accepted the answer, now that he thought about it. The house-elves were always happy to give food to students.

“No Ash?” asked Clint as he appeared from… somewhere.

“I thought you were rock-climbing.”

“Thor won.” replied Clint. “Seriously though, did we forget to invite Ash?”

“Ash and I broke up.” replied Barney. Maybe if he said it quick enough, it wouldn’t hurt. “With the studying, homework, extra Quidditch practice, not actually being here at weekends, Ash decided that I didn’t have enough time for him.”

Which was probably true. Barney didn’t blame Ash for his decision. It wasn’t like Barney had much free time any more. At least his friends were OK with spending time in the library. Most of his free periods were dedicated to doing homework, after class for Quidditch either with Slytherin on Mondays and Wednesdays and the Scottish team on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. And then he had games most weekends.

“Firework time!” shouted Akihiro.

“This is going to go horribly wrong.” said Barney.

Gadreel laughed. “Who do you think will lose a finger?”

“Jem.” said Barney immediately. “Too reckless.”

Gadreel laughed again, shaking his head. The two of them turned to watch. They were impressive fireworks, every colour imaginable bursting across the sky. A blue one and a yellow one seemed to chase each other, twisting round together. It was beautiful. Barney could feel his mouth hanging open.

“It’s like the Fourth of July.” said Clint in awe. “Where did they find these things?”

“Ask no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.” said Akihiro from somewhere behind them.

“Liar!” Barney called back.

Akihiro lied constantly, it was part of who he was. It didn’t bother Barney, why would it? He’d lied for years when he lived in America. He tipped his head back to watch the fireworks, face aching from his grin. Eventually, the fireworks died out, and they began to leave. The lights were wrapped in the banner and flung at Dean. He spluttered out a few protests but did agree to take them. The food was gone, demolished by several hungry teenagers. The only other things left to clear up were the blankets which were taken by Clint. He had a strange need for blankets. As many as possibly, piled as high as possible. They snuck back to the Entrance Hall in one big group, pleased the door was still open. And then froze as they saw Professor Slughorn stood in the middle of the hallway.

“Now you should all be in bed.”

“It’s my fault sir.” said Akihiro. “I wanted Barney to have a few hours to relax, since he’s been working so hard. He shouldn’t get detention for it.”

Slughorn actually smiled. “I can’t blame you for wanting to relax. But this will be the last time it happens when you have classes the next day. Now off to bed, all of you.”

There was a long stream of ‘thanks Professor’ from the group as they split up. Barney gave Bobbi and Clint a quick hug before guiding the Slytherins off. Karla took responsibility for Bobbi, and Aaron for the Hufflepuffs. Which made sense because Jem was the last person you’d want in charge of children. Dean, Thor, and Barnes headed up to the Gryffindor Tower.

“Did you have a good night?” asked Steve.

“I did, thanks. Did you?”

“Yeah, your brother’s pretty cool.”

“Sometimes.”

Notes:

What's this, two updates in the same month?? Incredible. Let me know what you thought!

Chapter 26: The Last Happy Summer

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

25th July 1977: Clint- 13, Barney- 17

 

Clint stretched in the booth as he glanced at his watch. Barney had a final team meeting before he could join Clint and their friends and finally, finally, go up to Underhill. Clint was already daydreaming about jumping into the lake. Jem had already gone up with Uncle Kenneth’s side of the family, except Will. Clint was the one stuck waiting for Barney so they could drive. Mostly because Barney would never get an Apparition licence. Will was driving them up in his car.

“Will we all fit?” asked Frank.

“It’s got a charm on it.” said Bobbi. “I’ve been in it before.”

It was Frank’s first visit to Underhill, as well as Benny’s. Natasha was with them, along with Dean, Thor, and obviously Bobbi. Jem had taken Akihiro, Karla, and Gabriel up with him. Gadreel, Aaron’s quiet friend, was coming with them. All they needed now was Barney.

“Hey Will, can I have a look at your paper?”

Will handed over the Daily Prophet, ordering another cup of coffee. Clint flicked to the arrests page, scanning the list of names. There weren’t so many this time and none of them were Greyback or Duquesne, the man who had cast the Cruciatus Curse on him. Four years ago. It seemed hard to believe. Clint still woke sweating from nightmares sometimes.

“Hey, sorry I’m late.” said Barney as he jogged into the coffee shop. “Coach wouldn’t stop talking.”

Will threw down some money and ushered them out of the shop. Barney called shotgun and climbed into the front. At Will’s suggestion, Gadreel joined him.

“This is like a limo!” said Frank.

The back of the car elongated to fit them all in, Clint crawling to the very back. Trick was in there too, Barney’s overly-friendly cat. Ronin had gone up with Jem. He ended up next to Thor and Dean.

“How come you didn’t head to Norway this summer?” asked Dean.

“I wanted to come to Underhill. Clint always says great things about it.”

“Screw Disney World, this is the happiest place on Earth.” said Clint.

“It’s gonna be full this year.” Barney called back. “Old Man finally let everyone invite more than one friend.”

“Why didn’t you bring any friends, Will?” asked Bobbi.

“Cos he doesn’t have any.” said Clint, grinning.

Will didn’t even need to be facing Clint for Clint to feel the eyeroll directed at him.

“Would you like to walk to Scotland?”

“Nope.”

“Zip it.”

Barney fiddled with the cassette player and rock music began to blare out. Despite half the car complaining, the rock music stayed on. Mostly because Will threatened to make them walk if they didn’t shut up. It was a very effective threat.

*

Benny felt himself nudged awake. He blinked his eyes, surprised to see it was dark outside. Barney’s face was looming over him, much too close in Benny’s opinion.

“Holy shit!” gasped Benny.

Barney’s eyes crinkled as he tried not to laugh. He apologised, urged Benny out of the car, and began to wake the others. Benny turned to face the house. It was huge, made of grey stone with actual turrets. It seemed to go into the hill itself. There were several people gathered on the steps outside. Benny recognised Clint’s Uncle Alastor, as well as Jem and Heck from Hogwarts. He still wasn’t sure which was Jason and which was Aaron and now there was a carbon copy of Aaron/Jason. Even though most of the Moodys looked similar, these two were identical. There was an older boy and girl, in between Will and Jem’s ages. Frank dragged himself out of the car, followed by Clint.

“Hansel!” he shrieked, hurling himself towards the older boy.

“Hawk!” yelled the boy, catching Clint and lifting him into his arms.

He was even taller than Barney, who was hardly a goblin.

“Gadreel!” shouted Carbon Copy.

His voice was thicker than Aaron or Jason’s and his skin was paler. Gadreel waved and came jogging over, wrapping his arms around Carbon Copy. Aaron/Jason joined the hug. Bobbi and Natasha were hugged by the girl. Benny was beginning to feel a little unsure of his place.

“Benny, Dean, Frank, Thor, come and meet Hansel!”

Hansel gave them all hugs and ruffled their hair. He was built like a brick wall, complete with a long leather duster that Benny fell in love with almost instantly. Clint was midway through introducing them to his uncles and aunts when Carbon Copy called for him and hugged him.

“Kenny! This is Kenny! He’s Aaron’s twin.”

Benny was about to ask why he’d never seen Kenny at Hogwarts when Kenny gave them a shy smile.

“Clint, I got a rock for you. Look, it shines.”

“Hey thanks bro. That’s so cool.”

Clint reached up to ruffle Kenny’s hair. Benny was then swept away to be introduced to uncles and aunts whose names he forgot almost immediately. To be fair, there were a lot of them. He knew the friends though, from seeing them around Hogwarts for the past two years. The only two he didn’t know were Hansel and Gretel’s friends, a blonde girl called Mina, and a black-haired boy, Ben.

*

Clint broke the surface of the lake, spluttering. He glared over at Dean, stood on the pier with his arms wrapped around his stomach laughing. He swam over, no easy task in a T-shirt and trainers, and held his hand out.

“At least help me out of the water Winchester.”

“Hell no.” said Dean. “I take that hand, I end up in the water. I’m not stupid, Barton.”

Then Dean toppled forward into the water. Clint turned his head from the splash, glancing back to check his friend was alright. At the sight of a very disgruntled Dean, Clint turned back to the pier. Kenny was leaning over, offering his hand to Clint. Once Clint was on dry land, Kenny reached out his hand to Dean. Dean took it and was promptly hefted up next to Clint.

“Thanks Kenny.” said Clint.

They headed back down the pier and onto the shore. Will, allegedly the one in charge since everyone else was in London or on assignment, was reading in the shade as far away from the others as he could get while still being within earshot. Hansel and Gretel and their friends had gone to the village for a drink. Barney was forcing his friends to do drills with him. Jason, Heck, and Jason’s friends had summer homework, since their OWLs started next year. Clint headed over to where his friends were with Dean. Kenny followed, sitting next to them. Of course, that meant Aaron and Gadreel had to come over.

“But what if I fail all of them?”

Aaron seemed to be asking Gadreel. They’d taken their OWLs this year and Aaron had not stopped panicking about them.

“You’ll just have to do fifth year again.”

“That’s not comforting Gad!”

“It’s not supposed to be.”

“Shut up about your OWLs.” said Clint.

A burst of laughter from towards the house drew Clint’s attention. He turned his head to see his brother and his friends coming back from the makeshift Quidditch pitch. Barney saw him and a shit-eating grin crossed his face.

“Shit, who brought the drowned rat home?”

Clint peeled himself out of his shirt, balling it up.

“Clint, don’t you dare throw tha- Hey!”

The T-shirt hit Barney square in the face. Barney dragged it off, looking incredibly indignant. Then he started running after Clint. Since he had a healthy self-preservation instinct, Clint took off. He was vaguely aware of Will yelling something, as he hurtled into the shade of the woods. He hurdled a fallen log, dodging to the side as Barney appeared behind him. Barney turned too sharply, crashing into the side of a tree trunk. He was laughing as he did it, Clint too.

“I’m gonna throw you back in that lake!”

“Only if you catch me!” Clint called over his shoulder.

“I’m quicker than you!”

“Lies!”

Clint could hear his brother getting closer but he had to stop, resting his hand against a tree trunk as he laughed. The next minute Barney circled round to the front of Clint. Clint immediately backflipped, leaving a small gap between himself and his brother. Then he dashed to the left. Barney shouted and gave chase. Clint eventually stumbled back onto the lakeshore to see most of his friends were beginning to take their outer clothes off, revealing their swimwear. Then a pair of arms wrapped around him and hefted him into the air. Clint laughed, incapable of feeling fear at Underhill.

“Barney!”

“Told you I’d get you!”

Barney then strode onto the pier, oblivious to Clint’s struggles. He held him over the water and dropped him in. Clint swore as he broke the surface for a second time. Barney was placating Kenny.

“Come on, I’m your cousin, you can’t attack me.”

“Fine.” sighed Kenny.

He pulled Clint out of the water effortlessly and dropped him onto the pier. Clint took his shoes off, emptying them of lake water while glaring at Barney. Barney just ruffled his hair and headed back to the shore. Clint followed, kicking his shoes to the side by his T-shirt. Barney pulled his own shirt off, tossing it away.

“Are you allowed to swim now?” asked Clint. “I mean with the tattoo.”

“Yeah the guy said I’d be fine to swim from last week.”

“Race you to the lake?” asked Benny.

“I’m gonna win.”

Clint took off, racing alongside Thor and Benny. Clint drew ahead, throwing himself into the water and rising back up to splash Benny. Frank and Thor came next. Thor was lethal in a waterfight, creating huge waves that smacked Clint in the face.

*

Gadreel laughed as Benny and Frank tagteamed Aaron, catching him in two waves of water.

“Don’t laugh! Help me!”

Gadreel waded over, lifting Frank off him. Frank wriggled himself free by kicking Gadreel in the ribs. As Gadreel staggered back, something under the water weaved between his legs, knocking him off balance and sending him falling into the water. He resurfaced as Barney appeared next to him, still mostly dry. Barney gave him a broad grin, apparently unaware of the effect that had on Gadreel. While Gadreel’s brain was still unfreezing, Barney caught his arm and spun him round, pressing Gadreel’s back to his chest. A huge wave of water smacked Gadreel in the face, making him gasp. Karla complained that she barely touched Barney before a scuffle between Akihiro and Gabriel caught her attention.

“Sorry.” said Barney next to Gadreel’s ear, voice not sounding sorry in the slightest, “I needed a human shield.”

“What about Aaron?”

“Too short. And Jem’s too violent.”

“Just hold a child up.” suggested Gadreel.

Barney’s laugh vibrated in his chest as he rested his chin on Gadreel’s shoulder. One hand was still holding Gadreel’s arm. The other was gripping his hip.

“Maybe I just wanted to be close to you.”

Gadreel was suddenly very glad the water was waist-deep. He twisted, freeing himself from Barney’s grip and flicking water into his face. Barney blinked slowly, wiping the water off his face. He locked eyes with Gadreel.

“It’s on.”

Gadreel hurled himself backwards, nearly crushing Natasha. Barney followed, absently throwing Natasha to the side. She didn’t seem bothered, if her delighted squeal was anything to go by. Gadreel lifted his hands.

“Truce?”

“Hell no. I trusted you.”

“You literally just used me as a human shield.”

Barney shrugged. “You’re already wet.”

“So are you now.”

Then there was a bellow of “Aguamenti!” from Gadreel’s left. The ensuing wave of water knocked both Barney and Gadreel off their feet. Gadreel spluttered as he resurfaced, meeting Jem’s triumphant grin. Barney came back up, glaring over at Jem.

“Truce.” said Barney.

The two of them surged towards Jem, spraying water at him. Jem let out an undignified squawk as Barney crashed into him. Gadreel laughed, turning to his next target.

*

Barney finished towelling himself off and shrugged a T-shirt on. Jem and Akihiro were waiting outside for him. Clint was nowhere in sight, probably already with Bobbi and the others.

“Hey. Where are Gabe and Karla?”

“Already downstairs.” said Jem. “Wanted to talk to you.”

“Shoot.”

They began to make their way to the dining room. Jem was quiet, making Barney wonder if he was ever going to bring up whatever was on his mind. His jaw was clenched and he kept turning his hands into fists.

“So you and Gadreel.” said Akihiro.

“Don’t you mean Aaron and Gadreel?”

“Aaron wasn’t the one holding him.”

“Human shield.”

Jem scowled at him. Barney got the feeling Jem didn’t actually believe him. He didn’t particularly care though. They got to the dining room to find Kinney had been forced to bring out an extra table. The adults, excluding Will, Hansel, and Gretel, had gone to eat in another room.

“Why are you in here?” asked Barney. “You hate eating with us.”

Hansel said, “Apparently we count as kids. Since we’re your generation.”

“That explains why you’ve got a face like a slapped arse.” retorted Jem, going to sit with Karla.

Hansel rolled his eyes, not sensing anything off with Jem. This was fair enough, give Jem’s usual disposition. Barney flopped into a seat next to Natasha.

“How’s my favourite redhead?”

“You only know one redhead.” replied Natasha, deadpan.

“Not true. There’s Evans in Gryffindor, the Prewetts, the Weasleys. And you’re still my favourite. I’d say you’re my favourite Slytherin too but Akihiro might stab me.”

“I would.” confirmed Akihiro.

Natasha rolled her eyes but Barney could tell she was hiding a smile. She dug into her food, a roast Kinney had provided. Barney followed suit, thoroughly enjoying the food. Clint was sat on her other side, talking earnestly to Kenny about… rocks or something.

“So what did you choose for your electives?” asked Barney.

“Ancient Runes and Arthimancy.”

“I did Ancient Runes. You need any help, let me know. Not you Clint.”

“Dickhead.”

“Chickenbutt.”

Natasha elbowed them both at the same time. Barney grunted, going back to his food. When he’d finished, he excused himself for a smoke. Since the Old Man hated the smell of cigarettes and Grandma Carina hated the sight of cigarette butts, Barney was forced to the outside of the house, to smoke by one of the side pillars on the porch.

He leaned against the pillar, lighting up. Akihiro had gone to get his own cigarettes. Apparently, Barney’s supermarket ones weren’t good enough. Snob. There was a rustle from near the door.

“Aki? You get them already?”

“It’s just me.” said Gadreel, emerging from the shadows. “I needed some fresh air, didn’t know you were out here.”

Barney laughed. “Not sure how fresh it’ll be with me smoking.”

Gadreel came to lean on the pillar opposite Barney. He’d been in the kitchen while Gabriel and Karla had been teasing Barney over his fan mail.

“I just needed a break. Gabriel can be a bit… much.”

“Yeah, especially when he brings up the damn fan mail.”

“Do you get a lot?”

“Some. It gets a bit… explicit. One woman, Mrs Hanson, she keeps telling me what she wants me to do to her. She’s like fifty. I’m tempted to make a public statement saying I prefer guys my own age.”

“Oh?” asked Gadreel. “What kind of guys?”

“Cute. Funny. Shy is a bonus. What about you? You got a preference for guys or girls?”

“Guys.” mumbled Gadreel, looking at the floor.

“Yeah? Got a lover hiding in the background?”

“No, I’m single. Very single.”

Gadreel met his eyes then. Barney felt himself smiling.

“Good to know.”

There was a long pause where they looked at each other. Barney was about to… he wasn’t sure but was going to do something. Then Clint clattered out onto the porch.

“Aw, Trick, no.”

“What do you mean, Trick no?” asked Barney, jolted back to life.

“Well…”

“Clint did you let my bloody cat out?”

“Maybe.”

Fuck. Barney stubbed his cigarette out and headed further onto the driveway in search of his cat. He lit his wand as Akihiro drew next to him, wand also lit.

“So… you like cute, kind, shy guys? Ash was none of those.”

“Were you eavesdropping? Hey, Ash was cute.”

“Of course. He really wasn’t. He had a mullet.”

“I have a mullet.”

Akihiro gave him a flat look. Barney ignored the silent judgment. He’d cut his hair in his own damn time, not because his brother and friends nagged him into it.

“You know, that kid could sue you.”

“I don’t want to know. Trick!”

“I told him I was single and free for a shag, officer, and he said ‘good to know’.”

“Your American accent is awful. And he did not say that. Can you see Trick?”

“He might as well have done. I think he’s under the car.”

“Bloody Clint.”

Barney dropped to his stomach, ignoring the way the gravel dug into his belly, and coaxed Trick out from under the car. It took ten minutes, several pieces of tuna and Akihiro’s unhelpful commentary.

Notes:

Can you believe I finally added another chapter? Come and talk to me about it at crisis-response-specialist on tumblr

Chapter 27: Worst Idea Ever?

Chapter Text

15th September 1977- Clint: 13, Barney: 17

 

“Don’t be shy Morse, I can’t wait forever for our date!” called Lockhart as he trotted past.

Bobbi gritted her teeth, hoping Clint had his hearing aids out. No such luck. The blond boy had perked up the way he often did when he sensed an opportunity to wind her up.

“You’re going on a date with Lockhart?”

“No! He just got it in his head that I like him. Can you imagine?”

Clint screwed his face up. “Yeah but it makes me want to vomit.”

Bobbi shoved him. Clint laughed and steadied himself against the wall. The two of them were going to the library to study. Well, for Bobbi to study and for Clint to see if he could rearrange books without Madam Pince noticing and throwing him out. Again.

“Imagine how it makes me feel. Ugh, I wish there was a way to get him to leave me alone.”

“Maybe if you had a boyfriend, he’d back off.”

“Yes but I don’t have a boyfriend Clint, that’s a key problem here.”

Clint rolled his eyes and returned the shove.

“I’ll be your boyfriend.”

Bobbi bit her lip. Clint was great, obviously, and he was slowly losing the air of a puppy that hadn’t quite grown into its limbs yet. But… he was Clint. He was cute and smiley and always willing to punch Rumlow for her but he was like a brother. Bobbi felt exasperated when he did something stupid, not fond.

“Clint, you’re a really great guy but I… you’re… we’re…”

“Oh Merlin no!” yelped Clint, with more alarm than Bobbi thought was warranted. “No, no, no, no.”

“I get the point. But you’re the one who suggested it.”

“I said fake!”

“You did not!”

He paused. “Oh. I meant to. I’ll be your fake boyfriend. Lockhart might back off then. And if he doesn’t, I could always…”

“Why is punching people so often a solution for you?”

“Jem’s a bad influence. Anyway, I was going to suggest hexing, not punching.”

“Liar.”

Clint gave her a goofy grin. The two of them pushed the door to the library open. Benny and Thor were already there, having bagged a seat. Clint swung into a seat next to Benny and Bobbi sat next to Thor. Bobbi chewed the end of her quill before deciding to agree to Clint’s idea. It might get Lockhart to back off and frankly, that was all she wanted.

“Clint, I’ll do it.”

“Cool. So what do you do with a girlfriend Thor?”  

“Why aren’t you asking me?” asked Benny.

“Because you’ve never had a girlfriend.” replied Bobbi. “Thor has one in Norway, right?”

Thor nodded. “Sif. She is…”

“Amazing, wonderful, incredible, we know. Just answer my question.”

“Hold her hand, tell her you love her, tell her she has eyes you could drown in…”

“Please don’t tell me I have eyes you could drown in.”

Clint grimaced. “Not my thing. Barney might, I caught a letter he was sending to Ash once.”

“Is that the time he banned you from playing with Trick?”

“And hid my arrows.”

Benny interrupted the conversation. “Why do you want to know what to do with a girlfriend? You don’t have one.”

“I do now.” said Clint triumphantly. “Bobbi.”

He then pointed at Bobbi, in case at some point over the last three years Thor and Benny had forgotten her name. Seeing the stunned looks on their faces and knowing Clint would never think to explain, Bobbi explained about Lockhart’s bizarre belief that she wanted to date him despite having already told him she would rather die.

“Well, I could have been your fake boyfriend.” said Benny.

“Yeah but Clint suggested it.” replied Bobbi.

“Congratulations friends on your romantic coupling!” boomed Thor, flinging his arm over Bobbi’s shoulders.

“SHHHHHH!” hissed Madam Pince from somewhere.

“Please don’t get us throw out until I’ve checked my Arithmancy homework with yours.”

Thor laughed, handing his work over. Clint produced a piece of scrap parchment from his bag and enticed Benny into a game of Noughts and Crosses. Bobbi felt something nudge her arm. It was another piece of scrap parchment, with Clint’s messy writing on it.

So do we hold hands?

Yes Clint, we hold hands. We go to Hogsmeade together. You let me study with Thor.

Sorry!

Bobbi turned back to her studying. They moved onto Transfiguration. A flash of red caught Bobbi’s eye. She glanced over at the door to see Barney coming through. His backpack was slung over one shoulder and for once, he appeared to be alone. He waved when he saw her, a bright grin that turned half-exasperated at the sight of Clint’s game with Benny. Bobbi shrugged. Barney bit back a laugh and headed to a table. Bobbi turned back to her notes, correcting Thor on his diagram for Felifors.

*

It was nice, having a girlfriend. It would have been even nicer if it was a girl Clint fancied instead of someone like a sister. But hey, you couldn’t have everything. Holding hands, going to Hogsmeade together, it was good. Clint kind of wanted to know what kissing was like but not with Bobbi. He was still trying to figure out who he could ask.

Probably not Natasha, since she’d just come up to him with a face like thunder and hauled him into an alcove.

“You asshole.”

There were tears in her eyes and her voice sounded dangerously close to cracking. Clint was fully prepared to find the dickhead that made her cry. Then his brain caught up with the first word she’d said.

“Me? What did I do?!”

“You started going out with Bobbi and didn’t tell me! I thought we were best friends!”

“Oh. We’re not really dating. It’s just to make Lockhart stop being so… Lockhart. Honest. I’d tell you if we were really dating. When I get a crush on someone, I’m gonna be asking you for so much advice. You’re gonna get so sick of it you’re gonna push me out Will’s car.”

Natasha smiled then. Clint grinned back at her, lifting a hand to swipe her tears.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were fake dating.”

“Well, it wasn’t as important. It’s really only so Lockhart shuts up. I give it like another week.”

Benny appeared then, from whichever class the two Slytherins had been in. He joined them in the alcove. Clint filled him in on the conversation. He didn’t mention the tears.  

“Nah, Lockhart says you don’t any chemistry cos you haven’t kissed.”

“We have to kiss?”

“Definitely tell Bobbi about that first.”

“Tell Bobbi what?” asked Bobbi.

Was it a class Ravenclaw and Slytherin shared? Was Clint supposed to be in a Hufflepuff-Gryffindor class? Bobbi squished her way into the alcove too, pushing Clint right against the wall and forcing him into a weird half-squat to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling.

“There’s a whole corridor out there.” Clint pointed out. “Where people can stand up straight.”

Natasha just gave him a smug look while Benny ignored him. He was busy explaining to Bobbi what Lockhart had said. Bobbi looked at Clint.

“Well, we’ll kiss at some point. I’ll figure it out.”

“Do you want to practise first?” asked Benny.

Bobbi glanced at Clint. “Yeah.”

She leaned in, pressing her lips against Clint’s. It was kinda weird, just lips against lips, but Clint figured he was probably doing something wrong. He’d have to ask Barney. Bobbi drew back, grinning.

“We can do that in front of Lockhart next time.”

And then she was gone, leaving Benny with a weird look on his face. He looked sick. Clint wondered if he’d looked that bad when kissing Bobbi. Natasha rubbed Benny’s arm soothingly.

“Nice try cowboy.”

“Didn’t work though. It did the opposite of working.”

“Give me time. I’ll see if I can do anything.”

“Thanks.”

“Wait, what’s going on? What am I missing?”

“Class, Mr Barton.” said Professor McGonagall’s voice. “All your Transfiguration class to be exact. Do you have an explanation?”

“Aw, class, no.”

Natasha and Benny disappeared immediately, the traitors. McGonagall docked him sixty points and stuck him with a detention. Clint leaned his head against the wall and groaned. Still, he’d had his first kiss. That was pretty cool.

Chapter 28: When the Augurey Cried

Notes:

I'm back!

Chapter Text

22nd December 1977: Clint- 13, Barney- 17

 

“What does Barney think about this ridiculous plan?” asked Gretel.

Clint shrugged and spoke round the sausage rolls in his mouth. Gretel wrinkled her nose in disgust as Hansel laughed.

“Come on kid, we talked about this.” said Will. “Chew, swallow, then speak. In that order.”

Clint swallowed, wincing as too much food went down at once. Really, it was Kinney’s fault for making such good food. And also Aaron’s for daring him to eat three at once. Will thumped him on the back.

“Threw his hands up in the air, said if I want to make my life more difficult than I need, that’s up to me. And not to come crying to me if it doesn’t work. It’s fine, we’ll break up over Christmas.”

“Does Bobbi know that?” asked Jason.

“It was Bobbi’s idea.”

“Good to know one of you has brains.” said Gretel.

“Hey!”

They were at Underhill, gathered around the fireplace in the lounge. Well, some of them were. The adults were holding their own conversations in the drawing room, Krista and Jem were sulking in corners, Barney was away at Quidditch practice with Scotland, and Aaron was helping Kenny decorate his room. The Christmas tree lights were twinkling away and Clint was burrowed deep in a new sweater his grandma had given him. The augurey that lived out in the woods was crying.

“Is it working at least?” asked Gretel with an air of resignation. “That Lockhart kid has backed off?”

“Oh yeah!” said Clint. “Now he just sighs and whines about lost love. Like Bobbi would ever date him.”

“She’s dating you.” Hansel pointed out. “You, Clint Barton, the walking disaster.”

“Hey!”

Will, the traitor, pointed out, “You walked into the doorframe on the way in here. Twice. And tripped over the step coming in.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I don’t see why.” said Hansel. “Jason’s the closest relative to you on the family tree. Your mum and his dad were siblings. It’s our granddad and your granddad that were brothers.”

“I know how the family tree works.” retorted Clint.

And he did. Mostly. Jason ignored this minor derailment in the conversation.

“Clint would be a perfectly good boyfriend. He’s funny, popular, clever when he wants to be, he’ll make the Quidditch team next year.”

“You’re my new favourite cousin.” said Clint solemnly. “You can have a sausage roll.”

Jason inclined his head as he accepted the honour. Everyone thought Jason was the dull one, but that was unfair in Clint’s opinion. Jason was the third best, after Barney and Will. Second-best, now that Will had turned traitor. The augurey screeched.

“I wish that bird would stop.” said Jason. “It’s been like that all day.”

“Must be one hell of a storm coming.” said Clint.

“I’m going to batten down the barns.” announced Hansel, getting to his feet. “Don’t want them flooding.”

Gretel followed her twin, citing that he needed her help. That got her shoved which in turn meant she punched Hansel. Clint called for Kinney. The tiny house-elf appeared, smiling. Even for a house-elf, Kinney was small, barely coming up to Clint’s hip. She was wearing a Christmas-themed tea towel as she often did at Christmastime. This particular one had reindeer on.

“Nice towel.” said Clint, completely sincerely. “Can I have a hot chocolate?”

“Of course, Master Clint!” squeaked Kinney. “With burned marshmallows?”

“You know me so well.”

Kinney flushed at the compliment and Apparated back to the kitchen. Clint wasn’t sure if she did Apparate or if there was a special term for house-elf magic. She reappeared a few minutes later, steaming mug in hand. Clint thanked her and settled even deeper into his chair. Jason reluctantly got to his feet.

“I guess I should go study.”

“I’ll come and check on your work later.” promised Will.

Jason trudged off, leaving Clint and Will alone in front of the fire. Well, Ronin was there too, perched on a stool. He was banned from the family owlery on account of a minor incident with William Senior’s tawny owl.

“When are you back to work?” asked Clint.

“Christmas Eve.” replied Will, rolling his eyes. “We won Christmas Day off but it means we have to work Christmas Eve and Boxing Day.”

“Well that sucks. What do you mean? You won it off?”

Apparently, there was a lottery every year to determine which teams had to come in and which didn’t. Uncle Alastor got most Christmases off since he was so senior in the department. Uncle Douglas was usually unlucky but not seeing his children on Christmas Day never seemed to bother him much. Max and Adrianna, Hansel and Gretel’s parents, were luckier but they were working on New Year’s Eve and Day this year. The augurey let out a cry.

“But I need you to cover for me tonight. Say I’ve been called into work for an emergency.”

Clint leaned forwards in his chair, sensing scandal. “You’re the good one, you never need cover. Tell me why.”

“Will you do it?”

“Obviously. But tell me why.”

Will groaned. “It’s embarrassing.”

“That’s what I was hoping for, come on, tell me! Please?”

He mumbled something too low for Clint’s hearing aid to pick up. Clint silently pointed to them. Will flushed.

“Sorry, I forgot about them. I just… I have…”

“I still can’t hear you. I’m not a bat.”

“A date!” Will blurted out. “I have a date!”

He hastily looked around the lounge, as if to make sure nobody else was in there. Ronin clicked his beak. One of the cats, Clint was fairly sure it was Grandma’s, stretched. There was nobody else.

“Who with? Why didn’t you want to tell me? Ooh, are they really ugly?”

“Clint!” snapped Will. He took a deep breath. “They’re not ugly, why would I go out with someone I’m not attracted to? I just work with him. And you know what the Old Man’s like about upholding family honour.”

“What’s the big deal if you work together?”

“He’s my boss.”

“Oh. Shit.”

For once, Will didn’t even correct him about his language, a sign he was really trying to stay on Clint’s good side. They settled into a comfortable silence, Clint sipping his hot chocolate and wondering how he could get Will to repay the favour.

“Are you nervous?” asked Clint.

“Yeah.” confessed Will. “Really, really nervous. He’s smart and funny and confident and what if he gets bored with me?”

“I’ll kill him.” declared Clint. On seeing Will’s worried expression, he relented. “I won’t really. But you’re smart and funny and confident and obviously good-looking. Ethan should be honoured you even agreed to look in his direction.”

Will’s worry faded, replaced by a smile. It was one of Clint’s favourites, warm and fond, the kind he never got as a kid.

“Thanks. How are you going to cope with this breakup with Bobbi?”

“Oh, that’s gonna be easy.” said Clint confidently. “We’ll just say we decided we were better as friends. Benny gave us the line. I think he thinks the idea was stupid.”

“The idea was stupid.” Will reminded him. “Sounds like Benny is really keen for you to break up. Well, fake break up.”

Clint shrugged. “Yeah, he always thought it was dumb. And it worked, so it wasn’t. Uncle Douglas always says it’s not dumb if it works.”

“Uncle Douglas got a concussion from trying to get the TV remote out of your chimney in the old house.”

“That’s… irrelevant.”

“He chopped one of his fingers off trying to slice carrots and didn’t notice.”

“That… wait that’s how he lost his finger? He told me it was in a fight with Death Eaters!”

“Nope. Carrots. It was a very bloody Easter. I think I was six.”

Clint gaped. He had to tell Barney about this. Immediately. Well, when Barney got back from practice. And before he started revising for his NEWTs. It might relax him, he’d been looking awfully stressed lately. Clint was about to ask Will for any ideas on how to destress him when there was a loud bang and a scream. Bangs and explosions were common sounds in a house full of wizards, as were screams, given the violent tendencies of Clint’s generation. But Krista screaming was very unusual. Since she was four years younger than Clint, himself younger than everyone else in his generation, nobody roughhoused with her.

“What the hell?” asked Will, already pulling his wand.

Clint pulled his own, just in case. He wasn’t allowed to carry a knife yet, he had to wait ‘til he turned fourteen. But when that day came, he’d be carrying the one Chick gave Barney back in ’73. They left the lounge, passing the corridor to the drawing room. Uncle Kenneth was already coming out, Uncle Douglas behind him. Clint wished he had his full hearing. Krista appeared at the top of the corridor, in front of the door.

“There’s bad people outside!” she shouted.

The door blew open, an explosion that made Clint stumble back, shielding his face. Hansel’s body was thrown through, Chick stood in the doorway, flanked by masked Death Eaters.

“Miss me?”

Chapter 29: The Storm Breaks

Notes:

This chapter involves violence against children and a child's death. If this triggers you, skip ahead to the next chapter where it will be described as blandly as possible.

Chapter Text

22nd December 1977- Clint: 13, Barney: 17

 

“Miss me?”

Will realised three things at once. One, Hansel’s chest was rising and falling. Two, Clint and Krista were still exposed to Chick and his new friends. Three, Chick was already halfway through casting the Killing Curse. Directed at Clint. Will dragged Clint behind him, ignoring his squawk of protest. The green light hit the wall where Clint’s head had been, scorching the wood. One of the Death Eaters lifted their wand. Green light flew and Krista fell.

“KRISTA!” screamed Uncle Douglas.

His fireball nearly hit Hansel. Grandpa Kenneth was more pragmatic, casting a Smoke Charm between the Death Eaters and them. Will pulled Clint away.

“Get to the vault!”

“I can help!” argued Clint.

“I need you to look after Kenny.” lied Will.

It was true, he did want Kenny protected. But he wanted Clint safe. Clint glared at him, not fooled for a second. The other Moodys were gathering now, drawn by the curses. Uncle Douglas’ face was red. Aaron and Kenny had yet to appear, Jem neither. Will took a shaky breath. The Old Man began to issue orders.

“Group up, don’t let these bastard outnumber you.”

“We’re already outnumbered.” said Will’s dad. “They brought twenty!”

The Old Man grunted. The door, hastily barricaded by Clint’s grandfather and grandmother, juddered.

“Clint, go up the back stairs.” ordered Uncle Alastor. “Find Jem, Aaron and Kenny.”

Jason had scrambled into the room, accompanied by Kinney. The door burst open and fire roared through. Will flung himself to the side, unwilling to risk Fiendfyre. The Old Man and Uncle Alastor shouted at the same time, words Will couldn’t hear over the roar of the fire. It did dim, fading into nothing. The Carrow siblings came through, only to face a barrage of spells. The wizards fell into separate duels. Out of the corner of his eye, Will could see Uncle Alastor taking on three masked Death Eaters while Uncle Conall, Clint’s grandfather, duelled Chick and a red-haired woman.

“Expulso!” shouted a Death Eater.

Will flicked his wand, Shield Charm appearing in front of him. The Death Eater’s mask had fallen in the chaos, revealing a Lestrange and Samhain. Will had been tracking Samhain for weeks. Part of him wanted to laugh hysterically. Underhill was supposed to be safe. He flicked his wrist again, Samhain hurtling backwards to crash into the wall. A bolt of fire came from his left, striking towards Lestrange. Aaron moved up into Will’s eyeline.

“Reducto!”

Will avoided Samhain’s next shot, even as Aaron’s Reductor Curse burned Lestrange. Samhain looked concussed, eyes unfocused and steps slightly uneven. Good, let them suffer. They had come to Will’s home, they were threatening his family. They had killed Krista. The fight carried on, tense and quick. Will struck out with the Severing Charm. His wand sliced through the air and an identical wound formed on Samhain’s throat. He lifted one hand to his throat, opened his mouth, and fell to his knees. Blood began to pour from the wound and Samhain fell still soon after. Lestrange on the other hand, was still standing. Lucifer, one of Chick’s psychotic friends, had joined now. He cast a Killing Curse in Aaron’s direction, which was struck out of the air by another spell. Will only knew one wizard with that kind of aim. Clint. Neither Will nor Aaron were stupid enough to turn to see where the spell came from. Lestrange was. As he turned his head, an arrow burst through his head. Will was too busy fending Lucifer off to see if it was Gretel.

“Fuck me.” breathed Aaron as Lucifer ducked behind a wall to hide from the barrage of spells.

Will wholeheartedly agreed. He looked around the room, desperate for some indication of how his family was. He was just in time to see Uncle Alastor cast a Blasting Curse, blowing the three Death Eaters apart. It was a bloody yet satisfying sight. Uncle Douglas was on the floor, Chick stood over him. The Old Man was still stood, bleeding from a collection of stab wounds. Uncle Alastor seemed relatively intact, or as intact as Uncle Alastor ever got. Green jets of light were filling the air, from both sides. Will finally risked a glance up at Clint. Sure enough, he was half-hanging over the bannister, wand in one hand, knife in the other. But what really worried Will was the fact that Kenny was stood right behind him. Kenny was a Squib, and one that had suffered a brain injury as a baby. He’d be slaughtered if he came anywhere near here.

“Aaron, get Jason and get Kenny to safety.”

“Jason’s dead.” said Jem in a surprisingly detached voice.

Will turned. Jem seemed unscathed, physically. He hadn’t seemed to notice his father’s dead body. 

“Rosier. Killed him.”

“The two of you, get them to safety.”

“Retreat!” called the Old Man.

The smaller group of Moodys backed up. The Old Man caught Will’s arm.

“Get them to the woods. Get lost there. Apparate out of here.”

“Yessir.”

The Old Man nodded, calling for his sons, Uncle Conall and Grandpa Kenneth, to help him fight. Will began to hustle the younger ones away, exchanging a solemn nod with Gretel. She’d been brought up to be the general of the Moody family, the fighter. Will had been brought up as the heir. They moved through the house, practically dragging a terrified Kenny. A silky voice cut through the air.

“Did you really think Chick wouldn’t explain exactly how to get around this damn house of yours?”

Lucifer stood at the top of the staircase. Flanked by Ramiel, Dagon, Lilith, Azazel, Buck Chisholm, Scarlotti, Crabbe, and both Carrows. Will wondered if he should be flattered they thought he and Gretel were so dangerous. Jem struck first, the Expulso Curse hitting Chisholm squarely in the chest. He was flung back, slamming into a stone wall with more force than was good for the human body. He slid down the wall and didn’t get back up. Then it was mayhem, curses being flung from either side. Will spotted Clint’s knife sail through the air, landing squarely in Azazel’s thigh. Gretel was holding her own against both Carrows and Scarlotti. Will urged the kids down the corridor.

What happened next seemed to be in slow motion. A Killing Curse streaked through the air, striking Kenny square in the chest. His terrified sob was cut off and he crumpled to the floor. Aaron let out a scream, one of the most terrible things Will had ever heard. Aaron flung himself at the Death Eater who’d cast the curse, Azazel, and the two of them began to fight, Muggle-style. Curses were coming from the other end of the hallway now as the older generation was pushed back.

“Jem, go!”

Jem nodded, dragging Clint off with him. Clint screamed for Will but Will ignored him. Instead he fought. Will’s dad was nowhere to be seen. The Old Man was still bleeding heavily, locked in a duel with Antonin Dolohov, Ramiel, and… Rookwood. Will knew Rookwood. He went for coffee with Rookwood while they moaned about their bosses. Furious, Will cast the Reductor Curse. It missed Rookwood’s head by an inch. Then Will was swept up in duelling Lilith and Dagon. A streak of purple fire caught his eye and the Old Man was slumping against the wall.

“Where’s Clint?” asked Uncle Alastor.

The fighting had shifted from Will’s spot for a moment, allowing him to catch his breath. Will was about to answer when he realised Chick was missing. Shit.

“The vault.” said Will. “Chick knows about the vault!”

Uncle Alastor swore. “Go!”

Aunt Carina swept up beside him, wand out and fierce expression in place. She Stunned Duquense, giving Will enough time to slip past and take off. He skidded to a halt in the doorway of the kitchen. The vault door was behind Chick. Lucifer was there too, apparently having slipped away in the chaos. Jem was duelling both of them but he was hard-pressed. A knife was in Chick’s shoulder, courtesy of Clint no doubt, who was currently cowering by the table. Lucifer cast a spell Will had never seen before, one that caused deep wounds to open across Jem’s torso. Jem screamed his next curse, blasting a hole between Lucifer and Chick. Will glanced over his shoulder to see more coming.

“Clint, run!”

Several Death Eaters were coming now, Dolohov and Rookwood among them. Clint scrambled away, Jem following as Will engaged Chick and Lucifer. Will risked looking over his shoulder to see Jem leaning heavily on Clint as they headed through the lounge, on their way to the door. Will paid for it, a slash across his throat from Dagon. He managed to fend off a few attacks, frantically trying to work out a way to survive. The thought came to him quicker than he’d hoped. There was no way out. The Death Eaters outnumbered him. He could buy a few precious seconds but they would catch up to Clint and Jem, too inexperienced and injured to defend themselves properly. Already Chick and Lucifer had vanished again. He could take a few Death Eaters with him though. He sent a mental apology to Ethan. Looked like he would have to miss their date.

“Confringo.” he said.

The last thing he heard before the flames swallowed him was Clint screaming his name.

*

Someone was screaming. It took two cuffs round the head from Jem for Clint to realise it was him. Will… Will was… the fire… Will could survive that. He had to. Jem was breathing heavily, one hand covering his stomach. The wounds from Lucifer’s spell were deep and he’d already been caught by a Blasting Curse from Rosier. Clint half-carried him out to the porch. The storm the augurey had promised was here, rain bouncing off the gravel.

“Jem, can you Apparate?” asked Clint desperately.

“Not… not… like this. Set me down… somewhere. I need...”

Clint hastily lowered him down, propping him against the side of one of the cars. He’d gone pale.

“How do I help?”

“Pressure… on the… wound. Don’t you listen… in class?”

“Sure, just not to the teachers.”

Jem laughed. Blood came out. Clint rolled Jem’s T-shirt up, pushing his hands down onto the gash. It was deep, scarily deep. Warm blood began to seep through Clint’s fingers, the only warm thing out here. The rain had already soaked through Clint’s sweater, leaving him frozen except for his hands. Jem shakily rested one wrist on Clint’s shoulder, his wand balanced. It would save movement. Clint could feel the rain sliding off his nose. Thunder crackled somewhere behind him. Clint didn’t look. The only thing that mattered was stopping the blood. Then a hand found its way into his hair, dragging him away. Clint drew his knife, the one Chick had got for Barney, reversed his grip and drove it upwards. His attacker let out a grunt, kicking Clint in the back. Clint tumbled onto the gravel, screaming as he felt his attacker snap his wrist. He looked up to see Chick’s furious face.

“Merlin, your mother should have fucking swallowed you!” he shouted.

He pulled a knife of his own, clearly ready to strike down. Clint cast the first spell that came to mind, the Knockback Jinx. Chick tumbled back a few metres. Not far enough. Clint cast Stupefy next but Lucifer was there then, snapping his wand and punching him in the face for it. Clint saw a flash of orange in the background and felt himself smile.

“What the fuck are you smiling about?” demanded Lucifer.

“Do you know what’s tougher than a Barton boy?” asked Clint. “Two Barton boys.”

“What?”

Lucifer was thrown sideways by a Banishing Charm. Clint looked to his left to see his older brother stood there. He towered in the driveway, making even Lucifer seem small. His face was a thundercloud to match the storm they were caught in, anger radiating from him.

“Get the fuck away from my little brother.”

He got his answer when the Freezing Charm hit him. He locked up, eyes angry but also confused. Clint scrambled away, back to Jem. His big cousin was still bleeding but the bleeding had slowed. Clint would have taken this as a good sign if Jem’s lips hadn’t been blue.

“Barney?” he asked.

“Nearly. He’s here, he’s back, everything’s going to be OK.” babbled Clint.

Everything was always OK with Barney there. There was only Lucifer and Chick. Barney could handle them. Barney could handle anything. Clint told Jem this, ignoring how pale he was. He was only cold. He was breathing quickly, sure, but who didn’t sometimes? Jem was going to be OK. Will was OK. He’d be out soon, a little singed, complaining that he was late for his date. Clint sniffled, ignoring the way the rain was getting in his eyes. Jem’s eyes kept closing.

“No no no no no no, Jem you have to stay awake! Please, we’re nearly there.”

Jem forced his eyes open. “Might… have… to nap.”

“No. You’re Jem fucking Moody, you don’t take naps.”

“Lan… language.”

Jem’s breathing was getting quicker. He lifted his wand, firing off a curse Clint couldn’t hear over the thunder.

“Behind…” gasped Jem. “Ex… ex…”

“Expulso!” cried Clint, twisting as he did so.

He didn’t have his wand. He was thirteen. He couldn’t do wandless magic. The Expulso Curse barely made Lucifer stagger. He had a knife in his hand. Clint screamed as it drove into his shoulder. Then his head was slammed into the car and he knew no more.

*

Barney let out a string of the worst curses and hexes he knew when he saw Clint slump to the side. Ramiel, one of Lucifer’s cronies from Hogwarts, made the mistake of getting between Barney and his brother and best friend. Barney drew his knife in his left hand, driving up into Ramiel’s neck. Ramiel laughed, even as Barney pulled the knife away. He carried on, intent on killing Chick and Lucifer. Whoever he reached first. He conjured a Shield Charm as he saw Chick flick his wand. Chick altered the direction of his curse, the Blasting Curse hitting the ground at Barney’s feet and sending him flying backwards into the stone wall of Underhill. Thunder cracked across the sky as Barney slumped against the wall. He couldn’t move his legs, could only watch Lucifer slit Jem’s throat. He could still cast his own curses though. The Banishing Charm sent Lucifer away from Clint. Chick came striding across the gravel, even as other Death Eaters began to spill out of the house. Merlin, how many were there??

“You should never have fought me.” said Chick. “You started this, not me.”

“You thought I was gonna let you deafen my little brother and get away with it?” asked Barney scathingly. “You’re stupider than I thought.”

Chick’s face tightened and he lifted his knife. He drove it between Barney’s ribs. His aim was still shit; he hadn’t even hit the lung. Barney brought his own knife out in a wide arc, slicing into Chick’s face. Chick yelled, stumbling away. Barney cast Confringo at the feet of one of the Death Eaters coming closer, a man with a twisted face. The man stumbled away, swearing. Barney grinned, even though his back felt like it was burning. Lucifer turned to something Barney couldn’t see. The Death Eaters took off running, pursued by people Barney felt like he should recognise.

“Barney?” asked a worried voice.

Barney looked up at Pops and promptly passed out.

Chapter 30: Aftershocks

Chapter Text

23rd December 1977- Clint: 13, Barney: 17

 

Clint woke up in a sterile white room. He’d been in enough hospital rooms to tell when he was back in one. The only splash of colour was Barney’s hair in the bed opposite him. His brother was still asleep, or unconscious, chest rising and falling. Clint took stock of his aches and pains. His head ached, probably from where he’d been slammed into the car. His wrist was a dull throbbing pain now.

“You’re awake.” said a voice to his side.

Clint turned too quickly, swearing as it made his head spin. Pops was sat there, smiling down at him. He didn’t seem too badly hurt, except for a couple of bruises on his face. Clint had had worse falling out of a tree.

“Hey. What’s… what happened? Are you hurt? Is Barney hurt?”

Pops glanced over at Barney. Clint followed his gaze to see him now sat up. Clint scrambled out of the bed, helped by Pops, and onto Barney’s. For once his brother didn’t complain about his weight on his legs.

“You’re OK.” breathed Clint. “I told Jem you would be.”

Barney’s face did something complicated at the mention of Jem. Clint felt his insides curdle. Jem was OK, wasn’t he? Pops’ hand nudged his shoulder. Clint took the BTEs off him and fitted them onto his ears. Background sounds flooded in, voices, laughter, even the occasional bang.

“Jem’s… he didn’t make it.” said Pops.

“No, I told him it would be fine. Will was following us; he’d know what to do. Why didn’t Will fix him?”

“Will didn’t make it either.”

Clint’s mind blanked. Will couldn’t be dead. Will had a date. Will was clever and strong and always had plans. Someone somewhere was sobbing. Will was going to help him get on the Quidditch team next year. Will… A warm hand rested on his back, rubbing circles into it. Clint took a shuddering breath, detachedly realising he was the one sobbing.

“I’m sorry kid.” said Barney.

His voice was thick. Clint shifted his position, curling up against Barney’s chest as he cried. Barney kept rubbing his back, making general soothing sounds. It wasn’t fair that Will and Jem were dead and Chick and creepy Heck got to keep living.

“Who else didn’t come out?” asked Barney.

He was a solid warmth in a suddenly crazy world. Clint was going to throw up. He couldn’t get the sight of Will looking back at him as the fire swirled out of his head.

“It’s easier to say who did.” rumbled Pops. “Aaron did. He got a concussion, couple of broken ribs when he fought Azazel. Dolohov hit him with some kind of curse that’s laid him out for a while. But he should be alright with potions and time. Gretel’s alright, just a few scrapes and bruises. And Hansel’s in a coma, some spell Muriel unleashed.”

Clint waited for Pops to continue listing. He hadn’t said Jason, or Kenny, or even Heck.

“Is that it?” he asked, when Pops stayed quiet.

Pops bowed his head and nodded. Clint felt a new wave of sobs tear at his chest. Barney held him tighter. Pops rested his hand on Clint’s head but it didn’t stop Clint from feeling so empty. He’d known Krista was down, he’d seen her die when Samhain cast a curse at her. But… that was almost the entire family.

“Even Grandpa?”

Grandpa Conall was one of the best Aurors in the department, Clint knew that. The only one better was Pops and that Ethan Will was supposed to be dating. A date Will would never get to go on because he’d been too busy trying to protect Clint. If Clint had been better, smarter, stronger, quicker, then Will would still be alive. And he knew healing magic, he could have saved Jem.

“Everyone. We… the lawyers have been talking. Since the Old Man died first, Will became the head of the house for a few minutes.”

“Good for him.” said Barney woodenly.

“That means Will’s will takes precedent over anything the Old Man wrote.” said Pops, ignoring Barney. “Will left his position to you, Barney. The personal things, those can be dealt with later. But you’re the head of House Moody now.”

Barney stopped rubbing Clint’s back, sitting completely upright. Clint grunted and toppled sideways. He stuck a hand out to stop himself from hitting Barney’s leg headfirst. And then froze. He could Barney demanding answers, demanding a solution, pointing out that he wasn’t ready. It had faded to background chatter. Clint’s hand was flat to the sheets. It should have been over Barney’s right leg, Barney bitching about how heavy he was. Barney’s leg was missing. Half of his brother’s leg was just… gone.

“Barney… where’s your leg?” Clint asked.

He didn’t care that he’d interrupted Pops’ explanations. Barney made a noise, pushing Clint to the side. Clint slithered off the bed, staring in fascinated horror. Barney’s face matched his own. He stretched out a hand, trying to pat at the sheets as if his leg just had a Disillusionment Charm on it. It didn’t. It was missing.

“What happened to my leg? Why can’t I feel anything?” asked Barney.

His voice was trembling. He punched his thigh, the one attached to his left shin.

“Why can’t I feel anything?!” he demanded.

He punched his thigh again and again until Pops grabbed his arm and physically restrained him.

“Barney! Enough!”

Barney stopped, tears starting to slip down his face. Clint couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen him cry. Not even at their mother’s funeral.

“Clint, why don’t you go and see if you can find Aaron?” asked Pops.

“No!” thundered Barney. “He stays here.”

So Clint did, settling into a chair on Barney’s right side. He was useless, his wand broken in the fight, no knives, certainly no bow, but Barney needed him for once instead of the other way round. A healer finally came in, babbling away too quickly for Clint to understand. As she spoke, Pops signed the words to Clint.

“Your legs were severely damaged by a Blasting Curse. We were unable to save your lower right leg but with luck, time, and an awful lot of hard work, you should regain use of your left leg.”

 Barney had his eyes closed. Clint slipped his hand into Barney’s, squeezing lightly. Barney squeezed back even tighter. The healer gave them potions and left. Pops went to organise Aaron and Hansel being moved to their room. Instead, Clint and Barney were moved to theirs. Aaron looked pale and stiff when they came in but otherwise unharmed. It was only when Clint went for a hug that he saw how dead-eyed he was. There was no emotion in his eyes, greyer than Clint’s.

“Kenny’s dead.” he said hollowly.

“I know.” replied Barney. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not. You’re just glad it’s Kenny and not Clint.”

There was a long pause, in which Clint tried to figure out how he could make it better. From the guilt on Barney’s face to the horror on Pops’, it didn’t seem like he could. The worst part was the complete lack of emotion on Aaron’s. He hadn’t even said the words angrily. He was a shell of the Aaron Clint knew. Hansel’s chest was rising and falling but there was nothing on his face to indicate he’d heard.

“How long will he be in a coma?” asked Clint.

“They don’t know.” answered Gretel as she came in the door. “He didn’t take his medicine at the right time and it sent him into this state. Just another thing we’ll kill Chick for.”

“Nobody is killing anybody.” said Barney tightly.

“You can’t be serious.” retorted Gretel. “He decimated our family. He killed his own brother. He deafened yours, helped kill the Old Man, brought enemies into our home, stabbed and paralysed you, and you want us to let him go?!”

“I want him to die in agony. But look around, Gretel. Who is this ‘we’ that’s going to kill Chick? Hansel’s in a coma, Clint’s a child, I can’t fucking walk. So who’s gonna take him and all his buddies on? Huh? You? A barely trained Auror? Backed up by what exactly? Aaron? He’s fifteen years old. You’re asking for another slaughter.”

Gretel glared at him for a very long minute. Then she stalked over to Hansel’s bedside and sat down. The tension stayed for a long time, even after she’d left.

*

A week after Clint came to in the first room, they got non-Moody visitors. Hansel’s girlfriend, Mina, came to visit when she finished her shift in another part of St Mungo’s. She’d close the curtains and the three conscious Moodys would do their best to pretend they didn’t hear the muffled crying. Karla and Akihiro came to visit Barney, even Ash. Clint could see them struggling to keep their eyes on Barney’s face instead of his stump.

“Clint!” called a voice.

Clint glanced towards the door, breaking into a grin when he saw Bobbi and Natasha come rushing through. They had wrapped presents in their arms. These were dumped on Clint’s legs as both girls wrapped him in a hug. Clint managed to sling an arm around each of them. Merlin he’d missed them. Eventually they detangled themselves. Bobbi set to fixing Clint’s hair, and by fixing Clint meant ruining, and Natasha divided the presents into neat piles.

“We were going to give you these when we saw you on your birthday.” explained Natasha. “But we got bored.”

“And it is technically after Christmas.” added Bobbi. “How is your hair so soft?”

“I wash it in the tears of Ravenclaws. Ow!”

Bobbi flicked him in the side of his head. Natasha rolled her eyes at him. Clint decided not to argue and instead opened his presents. Natasha had gotten him a sack of Tiger Bites, a divine treat they only sold in Russia and that Clint adored. They were orange-flavoured dough, wrapped around caramel. Natasha hated them. Bobbi had gotten him a new hoodie, soft grey. Clint loved it. The girls made their rounds, leaving the still-wrapped presents by Hansel’s bed, and gave Fizzing Whizbees and Treacle Toffee to Aaron. Barney, they presented with a new broom maintenance kit. He thanked them both, pulling them in for hugs. They glanced down at his leg.

“Does it hurt?” asked Natasha.

“No.” replied Barney.

They chatted a bit longer, Barney asking about the electives they’d taken this year. Bobbi chatted about the Care of Magical Creatures class she and Clint shared as well as the Arithmancy class she and Natasha were in. Natasha shared Ancient Runes with Clint. Bobbi’s mom, Mrs Morse, came in along with Ben, her older brother. They made small-talk, Mrs Morse leaving them the Daily Prophet paper before she kissed both Barton boys on their foreheads and left. Barney picked up the Prophet and let out a long blistering string of cursing usually only used by Hansel when he was drunk.

“What does it say?” asked Aaron, finally showing some interest in something.

Barney, when he’d finished swearing, said, “I don’t think you want to know. That Skeeter bitch wrote it.”

“Tell us.” said Clint. “Tell us. Tell us.”

Aaron joined in, the two of them monotonously chanting until Barney held his hands up in surrender.

“Fine! Worse than a pack of parrots you two. The headline is: ‘Moody Massacre; House Extinct???’. There’s three question marks. Three.”

“Oh well there’s no way it can get any worse.” said Clint.

Aaron gave him a look. It was a look that said, ‘Have You Always Been This Stupid And How Have I Not Noticed?’. It was one Clint was very familiar with.

“I’m being positive.”

“Don’t, it’s a terrible look on you.”

Clint stuck his tongue out before the two turned back to Barney. Barney had a look of resignation on his face, as if he’d just remembered these two were part of the House he was now expected to lead.

On the afternoon of the 22nd December, the members of House Moody were brutally attacked at their ancestral home of Moody Manor.”

“It’s called Underhill, what the fuck?” said Aaron.

“Does anybody call it Moody Manor?”

“Are you going to shut up? Readers may remember Prigusivac’s unceremonious expulsion from Hogwarts in 1976 on account of attempting to murder his cousin, Bernard ‘Barney’ Moody. Prigusivac disappeared for almost two years before resurfacing to disrupt the peace.”

“That’s an interesting way of saying, attempting to murder everyone else.” muttered Clint.

“I am reading. Accompanied by at least twelve Death Eaters, they stormed the house. A fierce battle followed, the marks of which can still be seen on the manor today. A total of nine Moodys were Aurors with three others having retired from the position. The rest were under the age of seventeen. Fourteen Moodys were killed in action, defending themselves against the Death Eaters. They are as follows:

Do you want me to actually read these?”

Aaron nodded eagerly. “Nobody told me anything. The Healers wouldn’t let Pops or Gretel tell me. I only know about K… K… because I was there. They’re worried it will stress me out or something.”

Barney shrugged. “Francis Moody- Ex-Auror, head of House, aged 94.

Conall Moody- Auror, eldest son of Francis, aged 77, and his wife Carina Moody nee Black, aged 75.

Kenneth Moody Sr- Ex-Auror, youngest son of Francis, aged 74.

Douglas Moody- Auror, youngest son of Conall, aged 40.

Max Moody- Auror, eldest son of Kenneth Sr, aged 54, and his wife Adrianna Moody nee Humbolt, aged 55.

William Moody Sr- Auror, second son of Kenneth Sr, aged 49.

Miriam Prigusivac nee Moody- Unemployed, youngest living child of Kenneth, aged 47.”

“Wait, Aunt Miriam died?” said Aaron. “Did Chick kill his own mom?”

“Nobody’s sure.” explained Clint. “Stray Killing Curse. Could have come from anybody.”

Barney continued reading.

“Jason Moody- Hogwarts student, only child of Jaime Moody, aged 14.

J… Jem Moody- Hogwarts student, eldest child of Douglas, aged 17.

Krista Moody- Youngest child of Douglas, aged 10.”

“They killed Krista?” asked Aaron. “What? She was a kid. She wasn’t even at Hogwarts. She was going next year. Why would they kill her?”

“Death Eater got her the minute they walked through the door.” said Clint. “I saw it. Blam, like it was nothing.”

Barney waited until Aaron had finished swearing to continue.

William Moody Jr- Auror, only child of William Sr, aged 24.

Heck Prigusivac- Hogwarts student, youngest child of Miriam Prigusivac, aged 16.”

“Lucifer or Chick did him, I think.” said Aaron. “That’s what Jay said.”

Clint felt bad for calling Heck ‘creepy’ now. It wasn’t his fault he liked executions and was pale and wore so much black. Maybe he’d just been shy. Maybe Clint should have talked to him more.

Kenneth Moody Jr- Oldest child of Katherine Cross nee Moody, aged 16.

However, readers will be pleased to know that the Moody family did not give up without a fight. Estimates place Death Eater casualties at ten. The Ministry of Magic has stated that no charges will be brought against the Moody family for acting in self-defence. The masterminds behind the plan are believed to be Chick Prigusivac, Lucifer Novak, and Antonin Dolohov. Several Moodys count Novaks as their friends. Whether this will stay the same or if the Moodys will be unable to forgive the family that has caused them so much suffering is yet to be seen. Current head of house Bernard Moody has been unavailable for comment. Well, that’s because I’m in a hospital bed you…”

“Witch?” suggested Clint.

“Yes. It goes on about who the Death Eaters are and Chick and Lucifer are wanted for multiple counts of murder, terrorism, and breaking and entering.”

Barney set the newspaper on fire. Clint didn’t blame him. Aaron had gone pale. Clint was shaken and he’d known the names that were going to be read out. It still hurt, hearing them referred to so impersonally. Will wasn’t just ‘William Moody Jr, aged 24’, he was Clint’s cousin and older brother rolled into one. He was the one Clint went to when he wanted help with homework or Ronin or girls. He’d had a date, one he was excited and nervous for. Kenny was kind and caring and never wanted to hurt anything, even ants. He’d excitedly shown Clint the newest gem in his collection, a blue one that reminded him of Bobbi’s eyes. Even the Old Man was more than an ex-Auror, more than the Head of House Moody. He was Clint’s great-grandfather, the man who’d welcomed Clint into the family at Barney’s 13th birthday party, the one they’d had a month after arriving in England. He was the one who taught Clint all the Moody family history.

And now they were gone, thanks to Chick. Bodies on the floor, soon to be rotting in the ground. It was enough to make Clint’s stomach physically ache and his heart squeeze until he thought his chest would crack open with it. If he made his way into Barney’s hospital bed that night, Hansel wouldn’t know and Aaron would tell no tales.

Chapter 31: Funerals

Chapter Text

2nd January 1978- Clint: 13, Barney: 17

 

The day of the Moody funerals dawned cold and cloudy. It seemed unfair to Gadreel, that Kenny would never get to cloudgaze again. He glanced at Gabriel. They were driving up a narrow winding road, somewhere in the Scottish Highlands. The car was Gabriel’s, a rash purchase when he’d come into his trust fund.

“We might not even be welcome at the funeral.” said Castiel from the back.

Gadreel wanted to reassure his brother. Yes, Lucifer had been present but the three brothers in the car hadn’t. He wasn’t sure it would work. Moodys could be vicious creatures. The suitcases slid against the back seats as Gabriel took a sharp turn.

“Shut up Castiel.” said Gabriel tightly. “They’re burying Jem. I’m going to be there.”

It highlighted how bad-tempered Gabriel was feeling that he didn’t call Castiel ‘Cassie’. Gadreel was tempted to turn the radio on but Aaron had told him once you couldn’t always get radio up in the Highlands. Something to do with signals. He’d felt sick, reading through the article in the paper. Up until that point, Gadreel hadn’t even known there was a problem. Aaron hadn’t written to him for a week but he’d been at Underhill. At Christmas Aaron’s letters didn’t always come twice weekly. He was surrounded by cousins and chaos. Gadreel had scanned the names three times, searching for Aaron Moody but found nothing. He’d been starting to relax when he’d seen Kenneth Moody Jr. It was odd, in all the time of knowing Kenny, Gadreel had never realised his full name was Kenneth.

“We’re here.” said Gabriel, an hour later.

Gadreel stumbled out of the car, relieved to stretch his legs. The funeral was taking place at the Moody graveyard. Aaron had once joked it was the only Moody residence that was ever quiet. Gadreel had never been before. The cemetery was ringed by a high spiked fence, the entrance a marble arch with a carved ram’s head in the centre. Witches and wizards were making their way up the stone path, all clad in black. Gadreel tugged down the sleeves of his leather jacket. His mother had found most of his Muggle clothing. Castiel pressed his shoulder against Gadreel’s. Gabriel locked the car and came round. He squared his shoulders and the three brothers walked up the path.

*

Gadreel spotted the flash of red first. The walk up the path, flanked by gravestones of previous Moodys, had been sombre and awkward. Especially when people recognised them and gave them scathing looks. The flash of red soon resolved into Barney’s cropped hair, flanked by Aaron and Clint. Gretel stood on Clint’s other side, Alastor on Aaron’s. The five Moodys, where was Hansel, were under a wooden archway which appeared to lead to the waiting graves. They were shaking hands with the people passing by, uttering hollow gratitude for their presence. Clint saw them first. He tugged Barney’s sleeve, a habit Castiel had grown out of at six, and jerked his head. Aaron, now that Gadreel was closer, appeared to be leaning heavily on Alastor.

“Gad.” breathed Aaron.

Gadreel meant to say I’m so sorry or I can’t believe Kenny’s gone or something along those lines. A comfort maybe, something that encompassed the grief he was feeling. Instead what came out was,

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Aaron blinked. Castiel was staring at the ground. Barney and Gabriel were speaking in quiet urgent voices. Gretel and Alastor were looking anywhere else. Clint was staring right at them.

“What?” asked Aaron.

“I found out through the paper.” said Gadreel. “About Kenny and your granddad and Jason. I thought maybe you were dead too and they just hadn’t announced it.”

“I did write.” Aaron replied. “I wrote loads of letters. You didn’t reply.”

This should have thrown Gadreel for a loop. Instead it made altogether too much sense. When given the choice between ‘best friend in the world not writing to tell him about the massacre of his family’ and ‘crazier than previously thought mother preventing said letter getting to him’ there was no contest.

“My mother, she must have destroyed it.” At Aaron’s confused look, Gadreel elaborated, “she thinks L… it was right.”

Aaron’s face darkened. “Bitch. What did you do?”

Gadreel felt a tendril of warmth curl around his heart. Most people would have assumed Gadreel, the quiet one, the not-brainy one, the one that was standout for not being standout, would have simply ducked his head and pretended to agree with his mother. Aaron was not most people. He knew Gadreel.

“I told her she was crazy. And then she found my Muggle clothes.”

“She kicked you out?”

Barney’s question was directed at Gabriel but cut through Aaron and Gadreel’s conversation anyway. Gadreel turned to hear Gabriel awkwardly confirm it. When questioned on why Castiel was with them, Gabriel simply said he wasn’t leaving any more brothers for Naomi to poison.

“Where will you live?” asked Aaron.

“Gabriel found a flat in Portsmouth.” said Gadreel. “It’s connected to the Floo Network so I can come up to Manchester to visit you.”

He took it as a given that Aaron would be moving in with Alastor and the brothers. He was correct. According to Aaron, he would be taking Clint’s old room while Clint took the loft. Gadreel didn’t point out that Will’s room wasn’t being used. He was quiet, not stupid. Then Aaron levered himself upright, swearing softly as he held his stomach.

“Curse.” he said in response to Gadreel’s questioning look. “Dolohov hit me with purple fire or something. It’s what did for the Old Man.”

Clint shadowed Barney the whole way to the graves, once it became clear no more people were coming. Gadreel stuck next to Aaron, lending him a supporting arm. Gabriel joined Karla and Akihiro while Gretel sat with a girl Gadreel vaguely recognised from last summer. The other four Moodys sat at the front.

“Where’s Hansel?” asked Gadreel quietly.

“Coma.” replied Aaron. “Tell you the rest later.”

And so the funeral began.

*

The funeral was, like most funerals, a slow and sad event. Unlike most funerals, there were fifteen coffins to be lowered. Fifteen lives to be remembered and honoured, even if some of them hadn’t really started. Gadreel listened as Dumbledore gave a speech about the Old Man and the importance of unity. Barney, as the new Head of House, had to throw the first handful of dirt onto each coffin. Alastor, Gretel, Aaron, and Clint followed in that order. Seniority or something. Then the rest of the funeralgoers had to throw a handful onto the coffins of those they were closest to. Aaron’s grandfather had always been pleased to let Gadreel stay, calling him an extra grandson. Gadreel swiped at his eyes when he threw some onto Kenny’s.

Most of the attendees left shortly afterwards. The ones that didn’t came back to Underhill. Kinney, the aged house-elf Gadreel had assumed died, was there in a black tea towel.

“She was sent to get help.” said Aaron. “This lot turned up too late to do anything useful. Not her fault. They call themselves the Order of the Phoenix, can you believe?”

Gadreel could not. It felt wrong to be in Underhill without Kenny, without Jason. It seemed quieter somehow, despite having the same number of people or more in the house. There was no outraged shouting, no loud laughter. Clint and his friends had disappeared into the billiard room or whatever it was called. Gadreel and Aaron slunk into a corner. The Moodys waved down from photos. Gadreel was even in some of them.

“I had so many good memories of this place.” said Aaron. “I don’t get how Barney’s so together. But I guess Clint’s alive.”

Barney did seem to be coping remarkably well. He was chatting to some of the… Order, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Fabian or Gideon Prewett, nodding at something they said. He was using a pair of crutches to support himself, one trouser leg neatly tied up. Both he and Clint were in suits, in honour of their Muggle-loving family.

“I just feel so empty. Like… I’m not even sad. I didn’t cry at the funeral. What kind of monster doesn’t cry at his family’s funeral?”

“It’s grief.” said Gadreel, feeling very unequipped for this conversation. “Your brain can’t process all the grief at once so it shuts down. It’ll hit you in a day or a week or a month or a year.”

“So I have a meltdown to look forward to?”

“If you melt down, I’ll be right there with you.” promised Gadreel.

It wasn’t much of a promise, given the circumstances, but Aaron seemed pleased. He told Gadreel how Barney was in charge of all the finances now, despite being seventeen and having used the Old Man as his Quidditch agent. He also had the unenviable task of sorting through the deceased Moodys’ possessions and sending them to their new owners or dividing them up himself. Aaron paused at the end of this, looking slightly wild-eyed.

“Do you want a drink?”

“Yeah.”

Gadreel wandered off to find one. He’d been to Underhill before, still vaguely knew his way around. He could see the scorch marks in the kitchen and understood with sudden clarity why Aaron had been avoiding going for refreshments.

*

Akihiro was bored. It was terrible to be bored at funerals, he was fully aware of that. But he was bored. Barney was having to gladhand all the adults, the heads of houses, while Gabriel was trying to shrink into the furniture for once.

“Dad, where’s Barney?” he asked, when he realised he hadn’t seen the other boy for too long.

“Talking to Dumbledore.” replied Logan.

“Both Dumbledores are right there.”

Logan shrugged, turning back to Bobby Singer. Akihiro stalked away. Gabriel’s youngest brother was sat on a chair by himself and had no idea where Barney was. Aaron, interestingly, was also on his own.

“Where’s your little shadow?” asked Akihiro.

Aaron looked up, startled. It was a bad day for any Moody if they could be caught out. The younger boy ran his hand through his hair.

“I don’t know.”

“Then what good are you?”

“Fuck off.”

Some bite came back into Aaron’s voice at that. Akihiro snorted and walked off. Clint had been in the billiards room most of the funeral, holed up with his friends. He waved half-heartedly at Akihiro when he entered the room. John Winchester gave him a suspicious look, the prick.

“Where’s your brother?”

“Smoking.”

It made sense that Clint would know where his brother was. Akihiro had a theory that both brothers had some sort of mental connection that allowed them to know each other’s location at all times. He’d brought it up to Barney once who’d pointed out that that was insane. Akihiro padded outside, sucking in a lungful of cold air. He didn’t have his jacket on, despite his low tolerance for the cold. Barney had better appreciate this.

“We’re not like that.” said Gadreel’s voice from behind a column. “Me and Aaron are just friends. I’m not… I don’t have anyone.”

What the fuck.

“Good to know.” drawled Barney, sounding entertained.

Akihiro considered going back inside but Barney was already asking who was there. Akihiro rounded the column. Gadreel turned red and headed back inside, mumbling about Aaron. Akihiro watched him go before turning back to Barney. His friend’s face was drawn tight, dark circles under his eyes. He was leaning against the column, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

“That poor kid.”

“What do you mean?”

Barney dropped the cigarette, grinding it out with his heel. The Old Man used to have a rule about no smoking on the porch, sending the smokers out in the rain. Still, Akihiro mused, there wasn’t much he could do about it now. And it was Barney’s house now. If he wanted to smoke in Underhill, nobody could stop him.

“He’s been after your dick for years. And he does not hide it. At all. He’s worse than Gabriel for fawning over someone. And here you are, not giving him anything.”

“Gadreel is not interested in me. He’s my cousin’s best friend, for Merlin’s sake.”

Akihiro was currently nursing a crush on Scott Summers, one of his dad’s friends, so he didn’t see the link in logic there.

“It’s emotional neglect. Kid should take you to court. ‘I blatantly told him I was single and free for a shag and he said good to know’. I’d love to see that headline.”

Barney gave him an irritable look. It was a watered-down version of Jem’s, less powerful since Barney was rarely inclined to back his irritation up with fists. Akihiro had stopped being bothered by Jem’s glares two months after they met. It was sad, in a way, to think he’d never see them again.

“You could tell him to-”

“I swear, if the next words out of your mouth are crass, I’m going to knock you over.”

Never mind that Barney was using a porch column to support himself, or that his hand kept twitching down towards his stump. Akihiro decided not to point that out. Barney still knew several curses.

“Fine. Ignore your wingman.”

“Jem’s my-”

All the fight went out of him. He rested his head against the pillar, staring up towards the sky. Akihiro came to stand next to him, just in case Barney’s good leg gave out.

“Do you think I’m a bad person for laughing? Now, I mean. They’re not even cold. I hope they’re not cold.”

A dozen cutting comments came to mind. Akihiro chose none of them. Barney was his friend after all, even if he was an asshole at times and wouldn’t let Akihiro copy his homework.

“I think that if anyone deserves a break, it’s you. You’ve inherited a fucking estate you weren’t prepared for, you’ve had to bury your best friend and almost all your family, you’ve lost your leg, there’s the international match-”

“Not helping.”

Akihiro clapped Barney on the shoulder.

“Kiss the fucker sometime.”

He handed over the pain relief potion he’d liberated from the apothecary. Barney took a swig, the lines in his face softening.

*

Thor felt numb. The funeral had been as horrible as he’d expected, with the small saving grace that he hadn’t cried. They were in the billiard room, mostly alone except for Dean’s younger brothers Sam and Adam, and sometimes people checking in on them. He hadn’t known the other Moodys well, having only been to Underhill once, but he’d liked them. And he’d liked Will. Will had sent Thor Chocolate Frogs to congratulate him for getting on the Quidditch team.

“What’s going to happen?” asked Frank, when Dean’s dad left the room.

Sam had gone to talk to Novak, Castiel, while Adam was drawing in a corner. Clint glanced up from the pool table. Natasha, Bobbi and Benny were playing darts while Frank and Dean were watching Clint beat Thor at pool. Clint squinted down at the table, hitting the white ball. Thor watched in dismay as two more balls were pocketed. Thor had put one away the whole game. Clint was down to the black one.

“Aaron’s going to come live with us. Barney’s going to pretend Underhill doesn’t exist.”

Clint’s eyes were puffy and he had cried the whole way through the funeral. He’d also desperately tried to hide it, so Thor had slipped him tissues throughout.

“I meant about Chick.” clarified Frank. “What’s going to happen?”

“Nothing. For now. Then one day I’m going to find him and I’m going to kill him.”

A dark look came onto Clint’s face, one that made him look eerily like Jem in the middle of a fight. Any sensible person would probably have been afraid of Clint then. Thor was afraid for him.

Chapter 32: Quidditch Tryouts

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

15th January 1978: Clint- 14, Barney- 17

 

Aaron was shaving in his dorm bathroom when he saw Clint appear in the doorway. While it wasn’t against the rules for students to go in the dorms of other years, it wasn’t common. Aaron didn’t think Clint had come up here before.

“Hey.” said Clint.

“Hey.” replied Aaron warily.

He felt bad about blaming Clint for living instead of Kenny. The logical part of his brain knew there was nothing Clint could have done, knew that Clint was blaming himself too. The other part of his brain screamed that it wasn’t fair. Clint had his uncle, Barney, his closest friends. Aaron had a comatose Hansel, Gretel who spent more time with an unconscious Hansel than she ever had with Aaron, and Chick. Well, and Gadreel.

“I wanted to ask you a question.”

“OK. Is it about shaving?”

“What? No, I know how to shave.”

“Do you even need to shave?”

“Shut up. It’s about Jem.”

Aaron stopped teasing. He turned to look at his little cousin, not so little now. Clint was practically chewing a hole in his lip. Since it was a Saturday, he was wearing jeans and a hoodie. His left hand was playing with the drawstring of his hoodie.

“What about Jem?”

“Do you think he’d be mad if I tried for the Beater position?”

Ah. Barney wasn’t the only Moody on a Quidditch team. Before… the Event, Aaron and Jem had been the Hufflepuff Beaters while Jason had played Keeper.

“No, I don’t think he’d be angry. I think he’d like that. You hitting the crap out of Gryffindor players.”

Clint smiled nervously. “I probably won’t even get on the team but I wanted to try and then I was worried about if Jem would mind and… I’m babbling.”

“Just a bit. Why didn’t you ask Barney?”

Clint’s face did something complicated. He didn’t actually answer Aaron’s question, just thanking him and sauntering off. Aaron came into his dorm room. Gadreel was lying on his bed, reading through one of the Muggle magazines Aaron had got him for Christmas.

“You heard that?”

“Neither of you are very quiet.”

“It was weird, right?”

“No more than you usually are.”

“Fuck you. Wait, what time is it?”

“Half ten, you’re going to be late.”

Aaron swore, diving back into the bathroom. Gadreel, the fucker, laughed.

*

Bobbi bit her lip as she looked at the field. There weren’t too many people trying out, seven for Beater and four for Keeper. There were more spectators though, as well as the rest of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. Clint was bouncing on the balls of his feet. Bobbi waved to him. Their captain, Hale, was talking. Bobbi was too far away to make out the words.

“I hope he gets on.” said Bobbi.

“I’m sure he will. Every Moody’s good at Quidditch.” said Benny.

He’d volunteered to come and watch the tryouts with her. Dean was probably still asleep, Frank and Thor were running late. They arrived just as Hale finished speaking Bobbi leaned forward to watch.

“How’s he doing?” boomed a voice in her ear.

Bobbi shrieked, turning round to smack Thor on the arm.

“Dammit Thor, we’ve talked about this.”

“Sorry.”

He did not look remotely apologetic. Frank clambered down to sit next to Bobbi, squishing her into Benny. Thor sat in front of them, on the bench below. They watched as the Keepers began to try out.

“Is that Castiel Novak?” asked Bobbi.

“Think so.” replied Benny.

“Yeah, that’s him.” confirmed Frank.

Bobbi, having no interest in the Keepers, began braiding Thor’s hair. Thor let out a contented sigh. Benny bit into the toast Frank had brought.

“It’s cold.”

“You can always go and get your own.”

Benny didn’t have an answer to that. By the time the Keeper try-out was done, Thor was sporting a messy fishtail braid.

“Does it suit me?” he asked absently.

“It’s still messy.” reported Bobbi sadly.

She’d been practising a fishtail braid on Thor for a week now and it was still a disaster. She undid it and began again. The Beaters were lining up now, Clint among them.

“Who got made Keeper?” asked Dean as he finally appeared.

“Novak.”

“Gadreel?”

“Castiel. I don’t think Gadreel tried out.”

“Huh.”

Bobbi knew Castiel in a vague way. They sat next to each other in Arithmancy but didn’t really talk since Bobbi had Thor and Castiel had Natasha. They’d smiled at each other when Bobbi came looking for Natasha but that was the total of their interaction. She knew Gadreel much better, from trips to Underhill. Clint was in the air now, hitting the Bludger towards Hale.

“Ow.” protested Thor.

Bobbi startled at feeling hands on her own. Benny was gently unwinding her death grip on Thor’s hair.

“Sorry Thor!”

Thor waved it off with his natural good humour but he did shift a little closer to Frank. Bobbi returned her focus to the tryout. Clint seemed to be doing well, as far as she could tell. He hit the Bludger away from Lahey and towards Hale, which the other hopefuls were also doing so it looked deliberate. Bobbi ignored the conversation from the boys, too focussed on watching Clint. He landed, huddled with the other prospective Beaters. Hale spoke, still too low for Bobbi to hear. But Aaron was coming over to ruffle Clint’s hair and high-five so it looked good. The others left as Clint came over to Thor, Frank, Bobbi, Benny, and Dean.

“Well?” asked Bobbi.

Clint grinned. “I’m on the team.”

Frank and Dean whooped as Benny hugged him. Thor hugged him next, Bobbi darting in before Frank could.

“I’m so proud of you.” she said.

“Aw shucks.” said Clint, turning red.

Bobbi dropped a kiss on the side of his head. Clint went to get changed and showered, promising to meet the others at the library. Natasha was there, with Castiel, Rogers, Barnes, and Wilson. Castiel had a paper crown on his head. Bobbi went straight over.

“Clint got on the team.”

Natasha smiled. “Of course he did.”

Bobbi laughed, was shushed by Madam Pince, and went to sit with the boys. Clint came in twenty minutes later, hair still damp. He was going to get a cold soon, wandering around with wet hair in a Scottish winter. As he sat down next to Dean, a sweet came sailing through the air and landed on their table. Bobbi glanced over her shoulder to smile at Natasha. Natasha returned it. By the time Bobbi turned back round, Clint had the sweet shoved in his mouth.

“You’re disgusting.”

“I’m adorable.”

*

Clint flopped onto the chair next to Barney, reminding himself not to freak out. The others had left to get dinner but Clint had spotted his brother and told them he’d catch up. Besides, he wasn’t hungry.

“Hey Barn.”

“Hmm? Oh, hey Clint.”

Barney had been using his name a lot more, since the will reading. Clint appreciated it. There were three different books spread out around Barney and four notebooks. He was currently writing an essay on the best way to feed a chimera.

“Did you hear the news?”

“What news?”

“They held Hufflepuff Quidditch trials today.” said Clint, attempting to gauge his brother’s mood.

Barney was harder to read now, more closed off and cold. Clint was trying not to hold it against him, knowing that becoming head of a family couldn’t be the easiest thing in the world. He was succeeding, mostly.

“Oh. Who got on?”

“Castiel’s the new Keeper. And I’m the new Beater.”

“Congratulations. You’ll be great.”

“I’m totally gonna aim for your head.” said Clint, aiming for their old banter.

A ghost of a smile touched Barney’s mouth.

“Aim, not hit. Get outta here chickenbutt, let me study.”

Clint ruffled Barney’s hair for once, fleeing Barney’s retaliating swipe.

Notes:

Hey guys, I wanted to say thank you to everyone that's given kudos, left a comment or bookmarked this fic! I know my update schedule is... non-existent so thanks for your patience with that too! I'm just letting you guys know that there will be no update at all in August, because I'll be on holiday for 3 weeks before I move halfway across the world again! (And I mean that literally, Chile to England) and then in the final week, it's my birthday! So have a great August and I should be back in September with another update!

Chapter 33: London to Manchester

Notes:

I'm back! Hope you guys had a great summer and enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Text

20th April 1978: Clint- 14, Barney- 17

 

Clint was attempting to bribe Benny into doing his Transfiguration homework when Barney wheeled himself over.

“Hey Clint.”

“Hey. Did you see the game?” asked Clint.

Benny, clearly relieved that he was no longer being poked with a quill, shuffled away. Barney positioned himself at the end of the table. It was strewn with books and parchment, since they were all studying. Or in Thor’s case, doodling in the corner of his essay.

“I did. You were good, Potter had to go get his head looked at.”

Clint beamed. Barney managed a half-smile. Frank and Bobbi reappeared, each with books in hand. Bobbi put hers down, ruffled Barney’s hair, and started scolding Benny for neglecting his homework.

“I tell him that, he ignores me.” moaned Clint, directing it to Barney. “Birdie tells him and he’s on it like McGonagall’s after him.”

Barney laughed then. “I think she’s got an advantage. Anyway, Gabriel, Gadreel, and Castiel are staying with us for the Easter holidays. That OK?”

“Will the house be ready?”

“I fucking hope so.”

“Language.” called Bobbi.

Madam Pince hissed at them. Clint hated that noise, it always felt weird through his hearing aids. Barney tugged Bobbi’s ponytail as he wheeled himself away.

“Enjoy studying.”

“Good luck tomorrow.” Dean whisper-shouted.

“SHHHH!”

Barney lifted a hand to indicate he’d heard and then disappeared through the doors. Clint went back to chewing the end of his quill.

“What’s tomorrow?” asked Frank.

“Scotland versus Norway.” answered Thor. “We will be listening to it.”

“Scotland’s gonna win.” said Clint firmly. “We’ve got Barney.”

Thor scowled. Before the study session could dissolve into a whispered Quidditch debate, Benny got them back on topic by asking about Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration.

*

Castiel settled into a carriage with his friends, eager to get the holidays done with.

“So,” asked Tony, “what’s everyone doing for the holidays?”

Laura said, “Me and Kate are going to stay with our grandparents in Devon.”

Rhodey laughed. “I’ll be with you, dumbass.”

“Well, I know that. Cas, what about you? You’re looking even angrier than usual.”

“I have to stay with-”

He was interrupted by the carriage door opening. Sam, Bucky, Steve, and Natasha came in. Sam promptly dropped into the seat next to Bruce, Bucky squishing next to Rhodey, and Steve slinking into a seat next to Castiel. Natasha sat next to the wall, propping her feet up on Steve’s lap.

“What are we talking about?” asked Sam.

Steve was already digging his sketchbook and pencil out. Bruce informed them of the conversation topic and then shared that his own plans were simply to revise and write to them.

“What were you saying, Cas?” asked Bucky.

“I have to stay with the Moodys. Our landlord in Portsmouth won’t rent to us because Mother has disowned us.”

“I hadn’t realised she’d gone so far. I’m sorry Cas.” said Rhodey.

“Thank you. Since Gabriel and Gadreel are so close to Barney and Aaron, we’re staying with them until we have a place of our own. I’m not looking forward to it. Two weeks with Barton.”

“Clint’s a good guy.” said Natasha.

Her voice was quiet but firm and her eyes, when they locked on Castiel, were piercing. He’d forgotten how close she and Barton were, since they rarely interacted in Hogwarts.

“Barney’s nice.” added Steve. “He’s always checking up on me in the common room. And giving me sweets. I think he thinks I don’t eat enough.”

“It’s not unreasonable.” said Bucky.

“Jerk.”

“Punk.”

Natasha ignored the bickering. “They’ll make you feel welcome. They always do.”

Castiel wondered, not for the first time, why Natasha was so intensely loyal to Barton. Or Clint, he supposed. It would be awkward to live with someone and constantly refer to them by surname.

*

When they disembarked the train, Barney was waiting for them. He was already changed into jeans and a check shirt. He smiled when he saw them.

“Hey Cassie. Got your trunk?”

Castiel nodded, used to his teasing. Tony tensed.

“Hey, there’s no need to be an asshole.”

“Excuse me?” said Barney, tone turning cold.

“You know he hates being called Cassie, call him Cas if two syllables is too long.”

Barney turned to Castiel. “Really? It’s been four years, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you knew. You’re Gabriel’s friend, it was a logical thought process.”

“Huh. Sorry Cas. Grab your trunk, follow me. Nice hair, Nat.”

Natasha gave the small smile that was the equivalent of her beaming. Castiel and Natasha both dragged their trunks over to the small collection of Moodys. Clint and Bobbi weren’t there yet. Aaron was, along with Gadreel and Gabriel.

“Where’s your father?” asked Mr Moody to Natasha.

“He said he couldn’t come.”

Mr Moody muttered under his breath. “Right, you can stay at ours tonight.”

Natasha smiled again. “Thank you.”

Mr Moody waved his hand. He was still deeply intimidating, with his terrifying eye and the deep scars carved through his face. Barney had a cat basket on his lap.

“Have you got everything, Castiel?” asked Gadreel.

“Yes.”

A few moments later, Clint appeared, His hair was a mess. Bobbi was next to him. They both had trunks, though Clint also had a hawk in a cage. They loaded the trunks and broomsticks onto a baggage trolley and Aaron and Clint began to push.

“Can’t we just levitate them?” asked Castiel.

“Yes because that’ll look very natural to Muggles.” snapped Clint. “Fucking floating cases.”

Castiel blinked, taken aback by the venom in his voice. Natasha cuffed the back of his head, scolding him in Russian. The two of them argued for a moment before Clint turned back and apologised. Castiel accepted it stiffly. They made their way through King’s Cross, Castiel getting odd looks from some of the Muggles. He was still in his robes, just without his Hogwarts cloak. The car they arrive at was called a Capri according to Clint, in a gleaming silver. Mr Moody opened the boot and Aaron, Clint, and Gadreel began to load the cases. Natasha and Bobbi both went to the front of the car with Barney.

“You could help.” said Aaron to Gabriel.

“I prefer to watch.”

“Bet you do.” he muttered.

Natasha reappeared with an empty wheelchair. Clint expertly folded it and balanced it on top of the cases while Mr Moody returned the baggage trolley. The boot slammed shut and they began to climb inside. Castiel was unsurprised to discover the car was bigger on the inside. There were three rows of seats, two at the front, with Barney in one and the driver’s seat. Then Gabriel, Aaron and Gadreel scrambled into the very back row, right in front of the cases. Castiel settled against the window while Natasha sat next to him, followed by Bobbi then Clint.

“Will we drive to Manchester?” enquired Castiel.

“Yeah, or Barney throws up.” said Clint. “Can’t handle Apparition. He’s a delicate flower.”

“Shut up Clint.” said Barney fondly.

Castiel couldn’t remember the last time he’d been told to shut up in a fond manner. Mr Moody returned, settling himself into the driver’s seat. They peeled out of the car park and in the direction of a ‘motorway’ which Bobbi described as a very large road where you could drive very fast. Castiel was quite looking forward to it.

“Pops, you know if you get pulled over for speeding again, you can’t Confund the cop.” said Barney.

“Sure he can.” retorted Clint. “Pops knows the Confundus Charm.”

“I won’t get pulled over.” replied Mr Moody.

*

“I cannot believe Castiel gets carsick.” said Clint as he got out of the car.

Bobbi poked him in the ribs as she squirmed out.

“Help me get my trunk.”

Clint obeyed, opening the boot and swearing. Three calls of ‘language!’ came from inside the car. He was pretty sure one of them was Natasha.

“Give him a break, he’s never been in a car before.”

“I’m not having a go,” replied Clint, “it’s just funny. We’ll have to drive Barney down at the end of the holidays and Apparate Cas. And buy him some bloody jeans.”

Bobbi laughed. She waved to the car’s other occupants as she lugged her bag up to her front door and knocked on. Ben opened it, giving her a hug. He waved to Clint who waved back as he closed the boot. He wriggled back into the car, still sat right against Natasha. Pops turned the engine back on.

“Only five minutes left, Castiel.” said Pops. “Wind your window down.”

Castiel did just that. He’d been almost silent for most of the journey, starting to feel sick around Oxford. Clint didn’t blame him. Being carsick was a horrible thing, especially if you weren’t used to it. Clint had thrown up in Bobbi’s mom’s car when he’d first got in it and they’d only been driving for ten minutes. He shared this with Castiel who managed a pallid smile.

“We’re here.” announced Pops. “Everybody out.”

Chapter 34: Living with Moodys

Chapter Text

30th April 1977: Clint- 14, Barney- 17

 

The Moody household was loud. Castiel had sort of expected it, from the way Natasha and Gabriel had talked about staying with them. But still. In the Novak household, messages were sent via house-elf, or the person in question was tracked down and spoken to in an inside voice. In the Moody household, conversations like the one currently happening were completely normal.

“WHERE’S MY HOODIE?” called Aaron from upstairs.

“I THINK CLINT HAD IT LAST!” replied Mr Moody.

“DID NOT! CHECK YOUR WARDROBE!”

“GEE THANKS, WHY DIDN’T I THINK OF THAT?!”

“COS YOU’RE A MORON!”

At which point Gadreel, of all people, yelled from the living room, “I threw it in the wash, it was filthy!”

“THANKS GAD!”

“CAN WE KEEP HIM?”

“AT LEAST SOMEBODY CLEANS UP AROUND HERE!”

Silence descended, allowing Castiel to refocus on his book. Twenty minutes in, this concentration was shattered by Barney’s voice.

“WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY MEDS?!”

“KITCHEN CABINET!”

“CHECKED THEM!”

“OH SHIT,” shouted Gabriel, “I THINK I MOVED THEM TO THE TOP CUPBOARD!”

“COME GET THEM DOWN!”

Castiel closed his book and his eyes. How Gadreel, shyer than Castiel and quieter, could stand this constant noise was beyond him. He could understand Gabriel fitting in perfectly but the fondness that crept into Gadreel’s voice when describing summers at Underhill bewildered Castiel. There was a knock at the living room door, followed by Clint sticking his head round.

“Hey Cas. I’m heading out, wanna come with?”

Yes.”

Castiel got to his feet, ready to head out. Clint raised his eyebrows.

“You can’t go out like that. Every Muggle that sees you will freak. You can borrow my clothes til we get you some Muggle ones.”

Castiel was almost two inches taller than Clint. The ‘jeans’ finished above his ankle, despite Clint’s tugging at them. The shirt fit perfectly, since Clint tended to wear them long. He pulled a purple hoodie on, throwing a grey one to Castiel. He alerted Mr Moody to the fact that they were leaving and the two of them set out. They walked in silence for the most part, Castiel occasionally asking about some odd Muggle custom, such as putting letters in a box.

They got to a children’s park after a few minutes, complete with swings, slides, and roundabouts. There were no children there. Clint said they hadn’t finished yet.

“Local schools are all Catholic so they stay in for another two days.”

“I see.” said Castiel, not seeing at all.

Clint sat on one of the swings, pushing himself back and forth gently. Castiel mimicked him, unsure what to do with such a quiet Clint.

“You must be so bored.” said Clint after the silence began to stretch out.

Castiel blinked. He’d actually been enjoying the break in the noise.

“I mean, we’re not normally this quiet. It’s just… first holiday after the… the…”

“Funerals?” offered Castiel. “Wait, this is quiet?”

Clint laughed then, his head thrown back. When he stopped, he turned to Castiel, eyes dancing.

“Oh man, Underhill in the summer? With all of us there? So loud man. Hansel’s got that dumb bike and the Old Man yells at everyone and Jason’s complaining about having to practice against Barney and Jem’s swearing and blowing-” Clint trailed off, chewing his lip. “Sorry. I talk about them like they’re here and then it hits me all over again. Pretty dumb huh?”

“My dad’s disappeared.” said Castiel. At Clint’s questioning look, he elaborated, “I keep waking up, thinking that I’ll go downstairs and see if he needs a cup of tea. Or something happens at Hogwarts, like when I made Keeper, I wanted to write to him. And then I remember.”

“Did you like your dad?”

“Of course.” said Castiel. “He’s my dad. Don’t you like yours?”

Then Castiel remembered what Clint’s dad had done. Clint pulled a face.

“Then I’m sorry about your dad. Maybe he’ll come back.”

Castiel let out a sad laugh. People disappeared every day now, and they very rarely came back. If they did, they usually weren’t breathing.

“Have you looked at Kettleburn’s homework yet? He wants us to sketch a Grindylow. Where the hell does he think I’m going to find a Grindylow?” asked Clint.

“There’s a good depiction in our textbook.”

“I was gonna ask Aaron if I could use him as a reference.”

“Aren’t they green?”

“And ugly fuckers.”

“Aaron looks like you.”

“Ouch Cas, ouch.”

Castiel rolled his eyes at Clint’s mock-pout. Eventually, they got to their feet and made their way back to the Moody house.

“You know, if you wanna read and it’s too noisy at ours, just come out here. Or I can show you the park. Or the café. The café’s good, they have bacon sandwiches.”

“I’d appreciate that.” said Castiel.

Clint slung an arm around his shoulders as the two turned onto Clint’s street. Castiel smiled to himself. OK, maybe he could see why Gadreel and Gabriel liked this place so much.

Chapter 35: The Letter

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

7th May 1977- Clint: 14, Barney: 17

 

Steve was heading back to the Slytherin common room arm-in-arm with Natasha when he spotted Barton leaning against the wall at the foot of the stairs. The Slytherin common room was further down. His hawk was perched on his shoulder. His hair had grown over the Easter holidays, hanging down to his jaw now.

“Nat.” he said when he saw them. “I was waitin’ for you.”

“Is there a problem?”

Barton handed her an envelope. His face was unusually serious, no hint of laughter in his eyes. To be fair, he’d been looking serious for the last few months. Natasha opened the envelope and pulled a letter out. She began to read, eyes skimming over the words.

“I got the letter today.” said Barton, his accent thickening as he spoke. “I brought it straight here. I didn’t want you to find out tomorrow in front of people. But I didn’t think you’d be with Steve.”

Natasha folded the letter and tucked it back inside. Her eyes were tight but her tone was even when she spoke.

“When?”

“Today. Midnight. There was paperwork and then Pops had to write me and then Ronin had to fly up here. He wrote me as soon as he could. And I gave it to you soon as I could.”

“When will it become public knowledge?”

“Tomorrow. The a-” Barton’s eyes cut to Steve. “Today’s stuff’ll be announced in the Prophet tomorrow. The other stuff in about three weeks.”

“I’ll see you in the common room Steve.” said Natasha, a clear dismissal.

Steve said his goodbyes and walked down the corridor. He glanced over his shoulder to see Barton gathering Natasha into a hug.

*

Steve didn’t buy the Daily Prophet but he didn’t have to. It was all over the Great Hall by the time Steve had sat down. Rumlow practically threw the paper at him. The headline screamed:

ROMANOVS ARRESTED

The photo underneath was Mr Romanov shouting and gesturing at the photographers while Mrs Romanova, a woman who looked eerily like Natasha, stood to the side, head held high. Steve skimmed the article.

Poisons and Death Eater artifacts… Trophies from murdered families… Priori Incantatem revealed… used in the Moody Massacre… daughter’s involvement unknown…

“Shit.” said Steve, looking for Natasha.

He saw Barton leaving the Hall instead. Steve left the Hall a few minutes later himself, Sam and Castiel on his heels with Bucky.

“We need to find her.” said Steve.

Sam said, “We’ll never find her if she doesn’t want us to.”

“No, but I bet someone can.”

*

Clint headed over to Hagrid’s hut. He wasn’t surprised to see a small form sat on the back step, staring at the pumpkin patch.

“I can see why you like it here.” said Natasha as he got close.

Clint hummed and sat down next to her. He handed over the toast he’d snagged from the Great Hall.

“Is it all over?”

“Pretty much.”

“I want to read the article.”

“It’s not nice.”

“I don’t care.”

“It says some stuff about you.”

“I. Don’t. Care.”

Clint silently handed it over and waited. There was the occasional Russian curse, coupled with Natasha gripping the paper so tightly it almost ripped. Then she got to a bad part, probably the part where they wondered how involved she was with her parents’ activities. And set the paper on fire.

“Fuck!” yelped Clint as he scrambled away.

Natasha extinguished it calmly, as if she hadn’t almost set Clint’s eyebrows on fire. Her face was still eerily calm.

“Aw, paper no.”

“You wanted to read the Prophet?”

“I like the comics.”

Natasha smiled. “Of course you only look at the pictures.”

Clint grinned back at her. Then she looked down at the page and sobered again.

“I don’t… Mother wasn’t involved in what happened. To your family.”

Oh. Clint hadn’t read the article, just been told what it said by Aaron. And Aaron had left that part out.

“She was home with me. All day. I promise.”

“I believe you.”

He didn’t ask where her father had been.

“It doesn’t say when the trial is.”

“Three weeks. Because your dad used to work for the Ministry, he gets a trial.”

Clint had listened to his uncles and Will rant for hours about Mr Crouch and his habit of throwing people in Azkaban without trials. He’d been at the Ministry once for an all out slanging match between Uncle Douglas and Mr Crouch over someone.

“What am I going to do if they get arrested?”

“Live with us.” said Clint. “Duh.”

Natasha hit him then hugged him.

“Wouldn’t Alastor mind?”

“You’re like his niece, one that doesn’t wreck his house or throw tennis balls in the toilet.”

“What?”

“Hansel was babysitting.”

“Ah. Well that explains it all. How is he?”

Clint shrugged. “Same as ever. Just lies there. Gretel stills visits him every day. I’d run out of things to say. And Mina goes too, on her breaks.”

Natasha leaned against him. Clint dropped a kiss into her hair.

“Wanna stay here all day?”

“Fuck yes.” she said.

“Language.” replied Clint absentmindedly.

He got to his feet, headed over to dig his bow out of its case and set up the targets. He slung the quiver on his hip.

“Wanna watch me shoot?” he asked.

“Always.”

Clint nocked his first arrow, drew a deep breath and loosed. It sank into the bullseye, as always.

“Does it get boring? Having perfect aim?”

“Nah. I change my goals all the time. I’m working on doing a Robin Hood now. You know, where you split an arrow with another arrow?”

“Sounds tricky.”

“It is. Keeps me calm though.”

So they sat there for the rest of the day, with lunch provided by an understanding Hagrid.

Notes:

Hope you're still enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it!
I'm thinking of writing a side series of all the moments that had to get cut for pacing or because the tone didn't match this work or the story took a different direction, if you're interested. Let me know what parts and people you're curious about!

Chapter 36: Movie Night

Chapter Text

12th July 1977- Clint: 14, Barney: 18

 

It was one of those rare summer nights where the whole world seems to be quiet. These nights were rare for most people and a thousand times rarer when a Moody or Barton was around. Gabriel and Barney were out with friends to celebrate Barney’s birthday, Gadreel and Aaron were upstairs, doing who knew what in their room. Pops was working away, on a stakeout to find a Lestrange. Which left Clint with Thor, Benny, Bobbi, and a movie. Dean was with his family, visiting family down in Cornwall while Frank was at a cousin’s wedding in Wales.

Clint was sprawled on the sofa next to Bobbi, head in her lap. Thor had taken a whole sofa to himself and his popcorn bowl, leaving Benny on the other side of Bobbi.

“I had no idea you’d starred in films, Clint.” said Thor.

“What?” asked Clint.

“There! You have fine taste in clothes, I must admit.”

Clint followed Thor’s gaze to the singing fox on screen.

“Oh you bastard!” he said, laughing.

Thor kept his face admirably straight for all of five seconds before he began to laugh.

“An archer who can sing! Surely you understand my confusion!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Thor.” said Bobbi. “Clint’s clothes aren’t nearly as nice as Robin’s.”

“Ouch, Birdie, ouch.”

Bobbi ruffled his hair, smiling down at him. Clint narrowed his eyes.

“Traitors all of you.”

“I didn’t say anything!” protested Benny.

“You laughed!”

“Well, she’s got a point brother.”

Clint scowled at him, sniffing loudly and pointedly. The movie finished and Clint got up to put another on. He Jason, and Will had built up an extensive collection over the years, aided by Bobbi and her brother Ben.

“Birdie, want anything in particular?”

“Oh, put Lady and the Tramp on!”

Clint laughed. He’d known she say that. He put it on, ignoring Thor’s demands to be told the plot.

“Just watch the movie dude!”

Benny laughed. They watched the movie, Thor filling up with tears when he thought Tramp had died.

“Are all Muggle films so heartbreaking?”

“It’s Disney.” said Bobbi as if that explained everything.

To her, it probably did. Clint rested his head back on Bobbi’s lap as Thor eagerly tried to work out the videoplayer.

“Don’t break it.” he warned. “Hansel bought that.”

“I won’t break it.” replied Thor confidently. “I broke the tape.”

“Merlin’s balls.” said Clint.

Thor turned, videotape intact in his hands.

“You really are a bastard. I’m telling everyone, this friendly jock act, it’s all fake.” said Clint, struggling to contain his grin. “You’re a bastard.”

“I wouldn’t be your friend if I wasn’t.”

“Is this gang up on Clint night?”

“That’s every night.” said Benny.

“Fuck off Benny.”

There was a crash from the kitchen. Clint sat bolt upright. Nobody else was in. He pulled a throwing knife from under the sofa.

“Was that there the whole time?!” demanded Benny.

Clint flipped the knife in his hand, ready to throw. Thor drew his wand, as did the other two. Clint led the way, pushing the door open silently. Nothing in the Moody house creaked. Gave away your position. There was muttering coming from the kitchen. If they were assassins, or burglars, they weren’t very good ones.

“Wait a minute, is that…?”

Clint pushed the kitchen door open, cutting Bobbi off. Barney was sat on the counter, a bottle in his hand. He was wearing a shirt, unbuttoned at the top, and dark jeans. His prosthetic was lying on the floor directly beneath him. Probably what caused the crash.

“What the fuck?” asked Clint.

“Hey kid.”

“Where’s Gabriel?”

“How did you get on the counter?” asked Thor.

Barney’s face twisted unpleasantly.

“My arms still work.”

“You’re burning your food.” said Benny.

“Oh, fuck, am I?”

“Jesus.” muttered Benny as he went to fix Barney’s…

Clint had no idea what Barney had been attempting to cook. Although, Barney’s cooking was always like that. He was pretty sure his brother was drunk though.

“Are you drunk or high?” asked Clint.

Barney squinted at him. He seemed to be wobbling, despite being sat on the counter.

“What the hell was this supposed to be?”

“Pancakes.”

“Are you sure?” asked Benny.

“Oh fuck you Frank.”

“That’s Benny.”

“Are you sure?”

Clint ignored Barney’s question. He reached out to take the bottle off Barney but Barney snatched it away.

“What’s in there?”

“Meds.”

“It isn’t time for your medicine yet.” said Clint. “I don’t recognise that bottle. Where’s Gabriel?”

Barney shrugged. “Out. With Karla. I got tired. Guess what I have to do tomorrow?”

“Sober up?” muttered Bobbi.

“I’m not drunk. I have to go to Underhill. As I have finally reached the age of eighteen and come of age in the Muggle world, it is my duty to process the possessions I have inherited and to help ascertain what belongs to who.”

For the last sentence, Barney put on a snobbish voice, somewhat spoiled by the fact that he couldn’t mimic an English accent properly and that he was slurring. Thor leaned into Clint.

“What?”

Benny’s hearing was a lot better than Clint’s.

“Tell you later.”

Barney glared at Benny.

“Guys, go watch the movie, I’ll come in in a sec.”

Bobbi gave him a wordless look. Clint gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. She rolled her eyes at him but herded Thor and Benny out. Clint scrambled up onto the countertop next to Barney.

“Did you have a good night out?”

“No. Yeah. I don’t know.”

“What did you do?”

“Went to Aki’s. His dad’s out. Working as a bouncer in some Muggle club. Just a few of us. Me, Aki, Karla, Gabe. I got tired, so I came home.”

“Left your own party early? Not the kinda thing you do.”

Barney ran a hand down his face. “It’s been a long week. I just got back to practice, remember?”

“How’s practice going?”

“Fine. My reflexes are fine, my speed’s fine. We just need to get a broom that won’t hurt my leg but that the refs think is legal.”

“The refs don’t know shit.” said Clint.

“Well, no shit. But they’re worried I might have packed a fucking Muggle motor engine under the seat. Fucking idiots.”

Clint laughed at the thought. He got down and turned back to Barney.

“Dude, I think maybe you should go to bed.”

Barney blinked at him, long and slow. “Yeah. Yeah I should. Can…”

He mumbled something then, something Clint’s hearing aid couldn’t pick up.

“Repeat that? Or sign it?”

Barney lifted his hands. His signing was slow, almost like he was still slurring.

“Help me get down.”

“Oh.”

Clint immediately stepped up and held his hands out. Barney put the bottle on the side and reached out. He slithered down gracelessly. Clint spun him and helped him get into the chair. Barney reached for the medicine bottle. His hand fell just short. Clint stretched over to get it and passed it over. Barney grunted his thanks and slipped it into his pocket.

“Want a hand getting to your room?”

“I’m not completely helpless.” snapped Barney.

Clint held his hands up in silent apology. Barney shook his head.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry.”

Clint watched Barney wheel himself away and went back into the living room. His good mood had evaporated. They’d kept the movie paused for him. Bobbi and Benny were curled up on a different sofa to before and Thor was sprawled on the sofa Clint had been on. Clint collapsed next to him.

“Are you alright?” asked Benny in a quiet voice.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine. He’s just… he’s real low. But he’s stopped avoiding me.”

“Why was he avoiding you? I thought you guys were close.”

Clint stared at the paused video. Fire was covering the screen. It seemed like if Clint listened, he could hear the fire crackling.

“There was the will reading. After the funeral. You were with Gadreel and them, right?”

There were murmurs of agreement.

“Yeah, after the reading, me and Barney argued. And he called me Jem.”

There was a sharp intake of breath around the room. Clint rested his head against the sofa back. It had been one of their worst fights ever, over something stupid Clint couldn’t even remember. And then Barney had shouted ‘Shut up Jem!’. He’d gone pale and stumbled away before Clint could even react. Thor pulled Clint over so Clint’s head was resting on Thor’s chest.

“Oh Clint.” murmured Bobbi.

“Yeah, that was pretty shit.”

“You should tell us these things.” said Thor. “We’re your friends.”

Clint laughed hollowly. “Moodys don’t tell anyone anything. Did you know there’s a vault in Underhill? That’s where Barney’s gonna have to go tomorrow. Old Man never told us. Apparently there’s a shit ton of Muggle weapons down there.”

“Brother, your family is bat-shit crazy.”

“Yeah.” sighed Clint. “Can we finish the movie?”

They watched the movie and watched one more before the four of them headed to Clint’s room. They technically had a guest room but since it was Will’s old room, nobody ever used it. Clint was in Barney’s old one now, since stairs were so difficult for him. It was a hell of a lot bigger but Trick did keep wandering in to wake Clint at 5am for food.

“Your room is incredible.” said Thor.

Clint had redecorated after Barney had moved downstairs. This involved painting the walls purple, enlisting Aaron and Gadreel for help (mostly Gadreel), hanging up a dartboard that currently had a throwing knife in the centre, a roost for Ronin, and moving his broom, bow, and Beater’s bat into the room. Clint also now had a huge bed. He was pretty sure it counted as a queen-sized bed. The four of them changed, Bobbi in the bathroom, before collapsing onto Clint’s bed. Thor ended up at the centre of the pile, mostly because he was the warmest and somehow also the softest. For once, Clint slipped off to sleep almost immediately.

Chapter 37: Getting Lucky

Chapter Text

13th July 1977- Clint: 14, Barney: 18

 

Clint rolled out of bed with a thump. He grumbled to himself as he staggered to his feet. Thor had taken up the entire bed at some point in the night. Bobbi was squashed against the wall, her head turned at a funny angle. Benny was nowhere to be seen. Probably in the bathroom. Clint slipped his hearing aids in and opened the window. Ronin swooped out and vanished in the direction of the park. Clint grabbed the Muggle camera Frank had given him and snapped a photo of his friends before going downstairs.

“Mornin’ Benny.”

“Mornin’. I think your brother melted the pan.”

“What?” asked Clint.

Benny tilted the frying pan at him. It looked like it had bubbled in the middle. Clint rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, Barney doesn’t cook much.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Wait, are you cooking?”

“Pancakes. Proper pancakes, not the weird ones Barney was making.”

“They’re American pancakes, the best kind of pancakes. Not the thin things you guys have.”

“I’m going to brain you with the pan if you don’t move.”

Clint shuffled out of the way, pulling himself onto the counter. Benny muttered something that sounded insulting but went back to his business.

“I think we have chocolate spread here, ow cupboard no.”

Clint rubbed the side of his head where the cabinet door had banged into his head. Benny looked despairing but also not surprised. Thor came downstairs as Clint was tucking into his first pancake, lured by the smell of food.

“You my friend are a wonderful cook.”

“Relax, I’ll make you a pancake.”

“Can I have four?”

Benny muttered again but agreed. Bobbi emerged a few minutes later. It was incredible how Bobbi got terrible bedhead and yet Thor never did. Bobbi did not appreciate this comparison when Clint said it aloud and flicked his nose.

“Hey!”

Eventually the noise produced by four fourteen-year-olds in a kitchen lured the remaining inhabitants of the house out. Castiel and Natasha were both staying over at Bucky’s, but Aaron and Gabriel both began asking for pancakes. Gabriel to combat his hangover, Aaron because he was a bottomless pit.

“Where’s Gadreel?” asked Bobbi.

“Went with Barney.” replied Aaron shortly. “Thanks Ben.”

“Benny.”

“Yeah whatever.”

Clint asked, “What time did you get in last night?”

Gabriel made vague noises and almost managed a hand gesture before he thunked his head back on the kitchen table.

“How much did you drink?” asked Bobbi.

Clint flicked the coffee pot on. When he’d done, he poured himself a cup and passed one over to Gabriel via Thor. Gabriel made another noise.

“Come on.” said Clint. “Let’s get outta here.”

*

When the four were dressed, they set out to Manchester centre. The first port of call was, as always, the comic book store. Bobbi was looking for anything involving Catwoman, while Clint wanted a Green Arrow comic. Thor didn’t care much for comics and was too busy admiring the replicas of weapons on the wall. Benny stuck with Bobbi. Clint tracked down the newest Green Arrow and brought it up to the counter.

“Hey, kid. How you doing?” asked the clerk.

“I’m good.”

“Haven’t seen that brother of yours for a while. Will, right?”

The name hit Clint like his dad’s punches to the gut. Only more painful. He looked up at the clerk and plastered on his brightest smile. It didn’t feel very bright.

“Will won’t be coming round anymore.”

The clerk’s face fell. He’d probably managed to guess what had happened.

“Alright kid. Here’s a bag for your comic.”

“I haven’t paid yet.”

The clerk waved his hand. “You’ve been coming here for like four years. It’s a loyalty rewards thing. We’ve just started it.”

“Oh. Cool!”

Clint wandered over to Thor who was currently in the process of trying to measure himself against a replica sword from… Lord of the Rings possibly.

“I’m two and a half Narsils tall.” Thor informed him.

Clint had no idea how to respond to this information. He was saved from having to work it out by Bobbi and Benny arriving, Bobbi also with a free comic book.

“That rewards thing is pretty cool huh?” asked Clint.

“Definitely! I wonder why they’ve suddenly started doing that.”

They wandered out, debating on where to eat. Bobbi was favouring the food markets on Market Street while Clint was lobbying for something from the Arndale. Benny sided with Bobbi and Thor with Clint. Bobbi won. They split up at the markets, Thor going for a burrito, Benny going for the slow-cooked burger, Bobbi for paella and Clint for pizza. They were heading to their next target, the bookshop for Bobbi, when Clint spotted something in an alley.

“Hang on a sec.”

He passed his bag over to Benny and headed over. Huddled up behind the trash cans was a dog. A man was stood nearby smoking. The dog looked miserable, ribs sticking out against its skin and the collar too tight against its neck.  

“Hey buddy.” said Clint softly, holding his hand out.

The dog sniffed it and licked his fingers. Clint offered the pizza to him.

“You like pizza?”

“No.” said the man.

“Course he does. Every dog likes pizza. Huh big guy?”

The dog appeared to agree, wolfing the pizza down.

“Leave dog alone.” growled the man. “My dog.”

“He’s starving.” said Clint angrily. “Look at him! If you can’t look after him you shouldn’t have him!”

The man shoved himself off the wall he’d been leaning on. He dropped the cigarette and ground it under his heel.

“Fuck off boy.”

“No.”

Clint was vaguely aware of his friends stood behind him. The man swung a fist at him. Clint went to duck but before he did, the dog leapt at the man. He sank his teeth into the man’s arm. The man shouted, hitting the dog in the ribs. The dog let go, dropping to the ground. Clint smashed his own fist into the man’s stomach and Thor, the tallest of them, slammed his head into the man’s face. There was a satisfying crunch of bone and the man stumbled back, holding his nose. Clint gathered the dog in his arms and they headed back into the safety of the main street. Bobbi’s jaw dropped.

“Is that a dog?” asked Benny.

“No, it’s a Hippogriff.” replied Clint. “Anyway, we need to find a vet.”

They tracked down a vet by sending Thor, the friendliest of them, to ask random people where a vet’s was. This was less than successful but they did finally discover a vet’s. Benny held the door for Clint as he rushed to the vet. The receptionist looked startled at the appearance of four teens and a battered dog.

“Lady, how do we fix this dog?” asked Clint.

“I’ll call Mr Walker immediately.”

Clint hurried through the clinic and rested the dog on the table.

“You gotta help him.”

The vet, an older man, blinked and sprang into action. Clint was instructed to keep the dog distracted as Mr Walker cut the collar off the dog.

“What’s his name?” asked Clint.

“Arrow.”

Clint groaned. He could practically hear the jokes now. Mr Walker finished cleaning the dog’s cuts and scratches.

“He needs good food and regular checkups. Will you be taking him to a shelter?”

“No. I need to make a phone call though.”

Clint turned to leave but the dog whined. Mr Walker chuckled. They lowered the dog back onto the ground and slowly made their way back into the main room. Mr Walker instructed his receptionist to allow Clint behind the desk to make a phone call. He dialled his home and waited patiently for someone to pick up.

“What?” snapped Aaron.

“Nice to hear from you too. Is Pops’ car there?”

Aaron sounded deeply suspicious as he answered.

“Yes. Why?”

“Can you come pick us up?”

“No.”

“Aaron! Come on, Pops isn’t due back ‘til Thursday!”

“You got into town yourselves, come back yourselves.”

Clint, sensing the resolve in his cousin’s tone, played his trump card.

“Barney’ll flip if he finds out.”

There was a long pause. It was then Clint remembered where exactly Barney was and felt extremely guilty. The last thing Barney needed after spending a day at Underhill was to come home to a surprise dog.

“Wait, never mind-” he started saying.

“Yeah, I’ll come pick you up.” said Aaron. “What’s the address?”

Clint gave it and reminded him to drive. The dog was probably too weak to Apparate. After he hung up, Mr Walker gave them permission to stay in the vet surgery until Aaron arrived. Clint sat on the floor and the dog rested his head on Clint’s legs with a sigh.

“Good dog.” said Clint.

*

Aaron groaned as he pulled up on some street. He hated driving the minivan. It was clunky and slow and turning was a nightmare. He’d already been sworn at six times. He parked the van and looked around. Yeah, there was the vet surgery and there was Bobbi and… shit was it Frank? Benny? Dean? Not-Thor. Bobbi waved to Aaron, Not-Thor looked over his shoulder and called something into the surgery. Thor appeared, holding the door for Clint. Clint came out, carrying something in his arms…

“Oh fuck.”

That was a dog. It was practically skin and bone, but it was definitely a dog. Where the fuck did he get a dog from? Clint appeared at the car and Not-Thor tried to open the door.

“It’s locked.” said Bobbi.

“I’m not opening it ‘til you send that mutt back to where it came from.”

“He’s coming with us. Barney won’t mind.”

Aaron doubted that. If it went for Trick, there’d be hell to pay. Thor was currently stood in front of the van and Not-Thor behind it. Hell, he couldn’t even drive off. Reluctantly, Aaron unlocked the van and let them in. Clint gently put the dog on the seats.

“You have to explain this.” said Aaron irritably.

Bobbi smiled at him as she hopped into the front seat. Thor sat next to Clint and Not-Thor squeezed into the seat behind Bobbi.

“What’s its name anyway?”

“Lucky.”

Chapter 38: Moving House

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

14th July 1977- Clint: 14, Barney: 18

 

Alastor limped his way up the drive. Will’s car was there, repaired and dropped off by the Muggle garage. Barney had been up at Underhill for two days, no doubt a draining time. He’d sent the goblin-made items back to the goblins. It would have made the Old Man turn in his grave but Barney didn’t seem to care.  Alastor pushed the door open and stopped in his tracks. Aaron was stood on the stairs, glaring down at a dog. A thin, heavily-stitched up dog that definitely hadn’t been there when Alastor left the house two days ago.

“Get it away!”

“He’s not doing any harm!” retorted Clint.

The dog was attempting to bark. It was also wagging its entire body. Barney was sat in his wheelchair, crying with laughter. Gadreel was leaning against the wall, desperately trying not to laugh. Natasha and Castiel were stood to the side, looking almost as confused as Alastor felt. Gabriel was nowhere to be seen, probably still sleeping off a hangover.

“Hey Pops!” said Clint cheerfully.

“What is going on?” asked Alastor.

The dog turned at the sound of Alastor’s voice. He came limping over to Alastor and licked his hand. One of its eyes was stitched up.

“Clint got a dog yesterday.” said Aaron in a tone of voice that said exactly what he thought of that.

“Yes, I can see that.”

“We can keep him, can’t we?” asked Clint.

Alastor opened his mouth to say no, absolutely not. But Barney was still sobbing with laughter, and it had been so long since Barney had laughed. Clint was beaming like a madman and even Aaron had a hint of a smile on his face.

“Yes, we can keep the damn dog.”

“His name’s Lucky.” said Barney.

*

1st August 1977

 

“And they definitely won’t suddenly cancel the lease?” asked Castiel.

“No, they won’t.” replied Gabriel. “They’re Muggle.”

Barney watched the two of them bickering and glanced over at Gadreel. Gadreel looked very tempted to throw something at both his brothers. Gabriel had managed to secure a flat in Cardiff for the three of them and they were moving today. They were Apparating over so Barney was driving down to see them the day after. Aaron was Apparating with them to help with the unpacking.

“Barney!” called Clint. “Barney, is this any good?”

Barney said his goodbyes to the Novak brothers and rolled through to the back garden. Clint was practising his swing.

“Is this any good? I thought I could do a tennis serve sort of thing. Watch, watch.”

“Did you say bye to the Novaks?”

“Huh? Yeah, Cas didn’t mind. He’s a Keeper, he gets I have to practice. Anyway, watch this.”

Lucky was lying by the back door, tail thumping whenever someone went anywhere near him. He even liked Trick. Clint hefted the Bludger (really a football filled with sand) and smacked it into the air and then towards the target pinned to the back fence. It went right through the fence and into the neighbour’s garden.

“It’ll definitely do some damage.” said Barney. “And hey, headshot.”

“I won’t aim at their heads in a match, it’s easier to move your head out of the way than your chest.”

“You’re terrifying. Quick, get the ball.”

Clint dropped the bat and wriggled his way through the hole. It came sailing back over and thumped into the grass in front of Barney’s feet. He reappeared a few moments later.

“It would have been so much easier to bring the ball through. You could’ve hit me.”

“Only if I wanted to hit you.” replied Clint. “Can I fix the fence?”

“You can try but if the Ministry yells at us, I had no idea you did it.”

Clint pulled his wand out. He still missed his old dogwood and unicorn hair one but the new blackthorn one did just as well.

“Reparo!”

It mostly fixed itself but there were still a few chunks missing. Barney bit back his smile at Clint’s disappointed look and finished it up.

“Come on, before you trash the fence again.”

“But I’m working on my swing!”

“I’ll buy you a bacon sandwich from the café.”

“Deal.”

“Go get Natasha.”

*

“What do you think?” asked Castiel.

“Is it supposed to be lopsided?” replied Gadreel.

“Piss off, you’re lopsided.” retorted Aaron.

It was definitely the bookshelf. Aaron had volunteered to build it with Castiel. Gadreel didn’t point out that it was still lopsided. They were three hours into unpacking at the new flat. There had been a fraught few minutes over who got which bedroom. Since Gabriel was paying the rent, he got the master bedroom, and Gadreel had used older brother rights to get the double room. Aaron helped Castiel drag the bookcase into his new room.

“Remind me why you didn’t use magic?” asked Gabriel.

He’d used magic to organise everything in his room exactly where he wanted it. Gadreel had been given kitchen duties, as the only one that liked cooking, Castiel the balcony, since he wanted to try and start a small garden on there. And Gabriel got the bathroom since he spent the most time in there.

“Clint says it’s much more entertaining to build things the Muggle way.” replied Castiel. “We built a boat together the Muggle way.”

“What?” said Gadreel. “Where?”

“Don’t tell us.” said Aaron. “I don’t want to be an accessory.”

Gadreel laughed. Castiel rolled his eyes and shoved the bookcase into the corner under his window. The room was cramped with the three of them in there and a half-built bed. Gadreel retired to his own room and finished organising his things. With magic. His bookshelf was neat and even, his trunk for Hogwarts stashed under his bed. He glanced down at the photo he’d framed. It was during the summer at Underhill, during a water fight. Somebody, Jason probably, had got their camera and shouted for Kenny to smile. Kenny had dragged Gadreel into the photo, who’d protested the whole way. Anyone untrained in Moodys would have thought it was Aaron.

“Hey Gad, do you want me to build a spice rack?!”

“No!” replied Gadreel.

The smile was the only real difference between Kenny and Aaron, along with a small scar on Aaron’s palm from slicing it open on barbed wire. Well, and Kenny was in a cold grave in Scotland.

“Cas, help me build a spice rack!”

Gadreel put the photo back down, leaving Kenny planting a slobbery kiss on Gadreel’s cheek. He hurried back out to see Castiel holding a hammer while stood by the breakfast bar. It was a sight that struck horror into Gadreel.

“Accio hammer!”

The hammer flew into Gadreel’s hand and he hurriedly put it in the toolbox. He could only assume the toolbox was Aaron’s.

“We don’t need a handmade spice rack. We can buy a spice rack.”

“Well, that’s your birthday present solved.” said Aaron.

Gadreel shoved him out of the tiny kitchen and began organising the cutlery and plates and dishes the Moodys had been kind enough to provide them. None of them were matching. Castiel hovered in the living room which was only separated by the marble top breakfast bar. Once Gadreel had organised the kitchen to his heart’s content, Gabriel appeared to inform the bathroom was done. Aaron was showing Castiel how to hammer a nail into a wall to hang photo frames up. Gadreel took that opportunity to go to buy food. Anything to avoid that noise.

*

In the weeks leading up to Gadreel and Castiel’s return to Hogwarts, Gadreel received several letters from Aaron and Clint detailing the latest havoc Clint had wreaked on the neighbour’s fence and the new and inventive swear word combinations Barney came up to describe the board members of the Moody holdings. He was having business meetings on top of business meetings apparently, stuck in London for days at a time.

“Children!” called Gabriel as he swept through the door. “We have a guest.”

Gadreel padded out of his room. Castiel was sat on the big sofa, a horrendously tacky brown leather thing that creaked every time you breathed in or out, wrestling with one of his Charms papers.

“Hello Barney.” said Castiel.

Gadreel wanted to strangle his brother. He was wearing an old T-shirt that had been Aaron’s and as a result was slightly too tight, and baggy sweatpants. He’d switched over to mostly Muggle clothes, partly because they were comfier and it wound his mother up to see him wearing them in Diagon Alley. It was a petty spiteful reason but Gadreel felt entitled to be petty and spiteful.

“Hello.” said Gadreel in what he deeply hoped was a normal voice.

“Hey.” said Barney in reply.

He looked exhausted, deep dark bags forming under his eyes, and his mouth turned down at the corners. He wheeled himself in and transferred onto the smaller sofa.

“What’s the essay?”

“The laws of Summoning Charms.”

“I see. Enjoy.”

Gabriel went to change, but not before requesting Gadreel start cooking dinner. Gadreel fought back the urge to flip him off and went to the kitchen.

“Barney, are you hungry?”

“I’m alright, I’ll grab some food when I get back home.”

“You can’t fly back to Manchester tonight.” said Castiel. “It’s a four hour flight. You won’t get back ‘til midnight.”

“And,” added Gabriel in a muffled voice, “you have to see a board member in Portsmouth tomorrow. You might as well stay over.”

Gadreel did not drop the pan full of boiling water. It was a near thing but he controlled himself and put the pan on the stove. He dumped the pasta in and set the sauce to simmer before coming to sit by Castiel. Gabriel got there first however and sprawled across it. Gadreel desperately wanted to glare at him but refrained. He perched on the edge of the small sofa, horribly aware of how close Barney was to him. Castiel finished up his essay and went to send an owl to Laura. Gadreel went back to check on the pasta while the two older boys talked about business meetings and the latest scrape Akihiro had got into.

“Is the food ready?”

“Leave him alone Gabe.” said Barney, sounding amused. “Or cook for yourself.”

“What a terrible idea.”

The breakfast bar only had two stools. Castiel sat up there, too concerned about staining his clothes with the pasta sauce. Gadreel sat back down next to Barney before he gave himself time to doubt. He passed a bowl over and blew on his hands. Barney stuffed a spoonful into his mouth and groaned.

“Merlin’s balls, you’re a good cook.”

Gadreel ducked his head under the praise. The rest of the meal was eaten in silence. It could have felt painfully awkward but instead it felt a lot like home.

Notes:

I'm still here! Finals are a hellishly stressful thing so who knows when the next update will be? Not me! I might be able to be moderately more productive on this after May, when the exams and coursework are done.
Hope you guys are staying safe and staying home!

Chapter 39: Travelling Home For Christmas

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

19th December 1977: Clint- 14, Barney- 18

 

Bucky entered the train carriage to find Natasha and Steve sat at a table in the corner of the carriage. It was pretty much empty except for those two. Steve already had his sketchbook out while Natasha had a book. Bucky threw himself into a seat and rested his head against the headrest.

“Hey Buck. What’s got into you?”

Natasha snickered. “More like who hasn’t. Castle still hasn’t asked him out.”

“Shut up Nat!”

Bucky could feel his face turning red. He’d seen Castle earlier bickering with Dean and nearly tripped over his own feet. The guy didn’t even seem to know he existed. Sam, Laura, and Castiel arrived and forced Bucky to shuffle up next to Natasha. Sam flopped down next to Steve and stretched his legs out so he kicked Bucky.

“Whoops.”

“Fuck you Wilson.”

“I know you love me really Barnes.”

“Guys.” pleaded Steve. “One trip.”

Bucky and Sam rolled their eyes at each other. Steve was always trying to make them get along. It wasn’t like they disliked each other, it was just more fun to wind each other up. They had that kind of friendship. A new voice, still carrying an American accent drifted through.

“What do you mean everywhere’s full up? See Frank, this is why we don’t stop to wish the teachers a Happy Christmas.”

“It was Professor Sprout!”

“Kissass.”

There were scuffling sounds and loud laughter. Barton’s head popped up over the seat divider.

“Hey.”

His hand reached down to Natasha’s hair.

“Touch my hair, I’ll throw you off the train.”

Barton immediately redirected his hand to wave at Castiel.

“Wasn’t gonna.”

“Liar.”

Barton just laughed.

“Hey Clint,” said Thor, “we have Detonating Snap. It’s way more explosive.”

Barton’s face lit up but he bit his lip as he glanced at Steve.

“Should we go down the other end of the carriage? Will it disturb your drawing?”

Steve smiled. “No, it’s fine. I can draw pretty much anywhere.”

“Hey, am I gonna be staring at your ass all journey Hawk?” asked Dean.

“It’s a perfectly good ass!” said Barton indignantly, twisting his head round.

“I’m not sure which is worse.” said Morse calmly. “His face or his ass.”

“Why are the girls in my life so cruel?” asked Barton.

Natasha pushed his face back. “Swap seats with me, I want to talk to Bobbi.”

Barton frowned suspiciously. “Is this about the shower? Cos that wasn’t funny!”

“No, but your scream was.”

Natasha wriggled out, Bucky and Laura standing up to let her. Barton just pulled himself over the dividing seat and flopped into the corner seat. Bucky sat down with him. Castle came round, looking deeply put out.

“She kicked me out.”

“She does that. At least when we reach King’s Cross she’ll stop. I live with her.”

“I heard that!”

Barton sighed. Laura shifted over to let Castle sit next to Bucky. Bucky sent her a silent glare. Laura gave him a delighted smile as she sat back down.

“What’s everyone doing for Christmas?” asked Sam.

“No idea.” said Castiel.

“You’re coming over to ours.” replied Barton. “Well, Gabe and Gad are so I figured you were too.”

Castiel smiled. “Oh, excellent. Will Lucky be there?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna buy him the biggest bone ever.”

“I love Lucky.” sighed Castle. “He’s Clint’s dog, cutest thing ever. Look.”

He dug a photo out of his pocket and handed it to Bucky. The dog was a thin thing, missing an eye, and repeatedly licking Castle’s face. Castle in the photo was giggling away and trying and failing to push the dog off.

“Can I meet your dog?” asked Steve.

“Stevie, you’re allergic.”

“I’ll bring my inhaler.”

Allergies.” repeated Bucky.

Steve ignored him. Barton glanced at Castiel.

“In the Easter holidays you guys could come over. Just not round Christmas. It’s too short notice.”

It was also, Bucky remembered, the first Christmas after his family’s deaths. He felt a sudden pang of sympathy for Barton. Sam changed the conversation to Quidditch which perked Barton up. His brother had been signed to the Montrose Magpies and had been making a name for himself. Being Muggle, Bucky didn’t get to keep up to date with much Quidditch but even he knew Moody was a beast.

“Yeah, he got picked for Scotland too.”

“Any chance of him joining Appleby?” asked Sam.

“Nah, Aaron would kill him if he left Magpies. So would I.”

Sam groaned. The conversation flowed easily then, punctuated by the occasional explosion, and swearing from the table behind them.

*

Bucky hopped off the train and looked round for his mother. He shouldered aside a seventh year that almost walked right into Steve and the two of them ducked to the side to shelter against the wall. Barton and Dean went with them. Natasha and Bobbi joined Barton soon after, with Castiel. The others said their goodbyes and disappeared. Dean scrubbed a hand through his hair.

“Dad said he was gonna pick us up.”

“Go grab Sammy.” said Barton. “If I see your dad, I’ll holler him.”

Dean vanished into the crowd.

“Sammy?” asked Natasha.

“His younger brother. Is that… AARON!”

Bucky winced. Novak appeared, towing along a grumpy Moody. Aaron, presumably. To be honest, Bucky got the older Moodys mixed up, especially the three that had been in Hufflepuff. There was only one now but Bucky had never quite worked up the nerve to ask Natasha which one had survived.

“I’m here, I’m here.”

“Where’s Pops?”

“How the fuck should I know?”

Barton rolled his eyes and stood on his tiptoes. Dean reappeared, a floppy-haired first-year behind him.

“Dean, I’m fine.”

“You shouldn’t have wandered off like that Sammy.”

“God Dean, give the kid a break.” said Bobbi. “Like you weren’t twice as bad.”

Dean scowled at her. They lingered awkwardly as the platform began to clear. A grizzled man with a terrifying artificial eye came limping over.

“There you are. Castiel, Gadreel, are you Apparating back to Cardiff?”

“I haven’t passed my Apparition test yet.” replied Novak.

The grizzled man nodded. “Right, you can come with us. Dean, Sam, your dad’s working a case and Bobby’s got ill. It’s not serious but you can stay with us until he stops vomiting.”

“You have such a way with words.” said Bobbi.

Bucky shuffled his feet and wondered where his mum was. If she hadn’t managed to get time off work, she usually sent an owl to him.

“Who are they? New strays?”

“Pops.” groaned Clint. “They’re Natasha’s friends.”

“Is that your mum Bucky?” asked Castiel.

It was, with Becca behind her. Bucky bid goodbye to them all and headed off. Castle smiled at him.

“Have a good Christmas Bucky.”

“Yeah. You too.”

Despite Steve’s teasing later, Bucky did not turn bright red or stammer. He glanced over his shoulder as they were leaving. Natasha waved to him as she began to follow the grizzled man.

Notes:

Hello! I am alive as is Bows and Wands. I was going to post the other week but we lost my uncle and I had a heap of deadlines so fic had to take a backseat.

Chapter 40: The First Quiet Christmas

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

22nd December 1977: Clint- 14, Barney- 18

 

Bobbi dug her hands deeper into her pockets. There was no snow but the wind was brutally cold and frankly, her gloves were not thick enough. Clint was similarly bundled up, with gloves, scarf, hat, and hoodie underneath his jacket. He’d pulled his scarf up over his face to cover his nose after Natasha had teased him about how pink it had gone. Natasha, being Russian, was wearing a worryingly thin coat and completely unaffected.

“Gimme the stick!” said Clint.

Well, that was what Bobbi thought he said. The scarf did make it difficult to tell. He was currently wrestling Lucky for a stick. Why he hadn’t brought a ball was a mystery. Natasha shuffled over to Bobbi, two cups of hot chocolate in her hands.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Clint had a whole pot of coffee this morning.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

They sipped their hot chocolate and watched as Clint and Lucky hit a patch of ice. Well, Lucky hit a patch of ice and went skidding down the path. Clint may have just tripped over his own feet. Either way, he hit the ground face-first.

“Well, that’s going to bruise.” commented Natasha.

“He’ll be delighted it’s purple.”

“He’s such a dork.”

“Who’s a dork?” asked Clint as he came over.

He had a dozen tiny cuts on his head, along with a gash on his nose, the side of his head and his chin. He also had gravel in the cuts.

“You.” said Bobbi. “You need plasters.”

“Thanks girls.”

“Clint.” said Natasha. “Please tell me you made sure Lucky couldn’t get through to the swans.”

There was a very slight pause before Clint beamed.

“Of course! Ow.”

“Please go find plasters.”

There was an ungodly cacophony of honks and barking.

“You let Lucky get through to the swans.” said Natasha.

“I think it’s geese.”

“Clinton.”

With that, Clint took off to wrestle his dog back under control and away from the geese. Once he’d moved out of earshot, Natasha spoke.

“Can I ask you a favour?”

“Of course!”

Natasha stared down at the plastic cup in her hands for a moment.

“Can Lucky and I come to yours tomorrow? It’s the anniversary.”

“Oh.”

She hadn’t realised it had come so close. She still remembered getting the letter, written in a surprisingly neat hand by Alastor, informing her in very clinical tones that Clint and Barney had been injured and would she come to St Mungo’s at the earliest opportunity.

“Are they doing something for it?”

“Aaron is going to wake up, eat, take Sleeping Draught and sleep until Christmas Eve. Alastor is working. Clint is shutting himself in the attic and fooling with his guitar. I don’t know what Barney plans to do. I know they wouldn’t mind me staying. But…”

“But?” asked Bobbi.

There were tears in the corner of Natasha’s eyes. Bobbi reached out and squeezed her hand.

“But I’d feel terrible. My father was involved in the attack. I can’t stay there at this time. I will go back on Christmas Day.”

“Yes of course you can.”

Clint reappeared with Lucky on the leash. The dog appeared none the worse for wear after trying to make friends with the geese, mercifully. Natasha informed him she would be at Bobbi’s for the next couple of days and would return on Christmas Day. Clint didn’t seem confused. The three of them walked home, Bobbi and Natasha mostly carrying the conversation. Clint joined in occasionally but stayed uncharacteristically quiet.

“See you tomorrow.” said Natasha, kissing Bobbi’s cheek at her front door.

“Bye Birdie.”

*

Natasha slipped downstairs, taking care not to wake Clint. The whole house had lost its liveliness as the day crept nearer. She poked her head into the kitchen to find Barney already awake and slumped at the kitchen table.

“Mornin’.” he mumbled.

He looked a mess. His hair looked like he’d run his hand through it several times, there were deep bags under his eyes and a smattering of odd bruises on his neck.

“Good morning.”

There was a coffee cup by his side, a jar of sweetener tablets, and a half-eaten sandwich.

“I’m going to Bobbi’s for a few nights. I should be back by the time the Novaks arrive.”

Barney blinked slowly before waving her off. Natasha put it down to an inability to function in the morning, like his brother, and called for Lucky.

“Where are you going?”

“To Bobbi’s.” repeated Natasha. “I’ll be back by the time the Novaks arrive.”

Barney nodded before returning to staring at his coffee. Natasha left, locking the door behind her.

*

It was Clint who came in the kitchen next. Barney mumbled a half greeting to him. Clint replied but Barney wasn’t entirely sure what he said. Merlin, was it too early to go back to sleep? Clint clattered with the coffee pot, making an ungodly amount of noise. Barney checked his watch to see if the other two would be awake. The time evaded him.

“Bernard.”

“Huh?”

Clint was stood by the table, arms crossed.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“No.”

Clint rolled his eyes dramatically and his hand shot out. It landed on the sweetener jar and Clint turned to add it to his coffee.

“No!” shouted Barney, trying to lurch up from the table.

He was forced to sit back down to steady himself as a jolt of pain launched itself up his leg. Clint held his hands up.

“OK, you can keep the sweetener. Merlin, scuse me for trying to sweeten my coffee.”

“You have sugar.”

Clint threw the sweetener jar back. Barney’s hands were too slow and the jar was too high to catch without standing up. It sailed past, smacking against the wall and then bouncing onto the floor. The lid, not tightened properly, fell off and skittered under the fridge. Tablets sprayed across the floor, tiny and easy to crush underfoot. Clint got there first, while Barney was still trying to grab his cane. He was having fittings for a prosthetic but it wouldn’t be ready until late January at the earliest.

“Clint, give it here.”

Clint looked up from the floor, frowning. Barney hobbled forward. His brother passed him the jar with some tablets still in it.

“I’ll clean this up.”

“I… It’s mine, I’ll do it.”

“No, it’s OK Barn. I missed the throw. You go have a nap.”

“Yeah. Yeah, OK.”

Barney stumbled his way out of the kitchen and across the hall to his room. Had his head been clearer, he would’ve remembered that Clint only ever missed on purpose.

*

Clint had never been so glad to see Gabriel Novak in his life. So far Christmas morning had been quiet, waiting until the Novaks arrived to open their presents. Before, they’d had to wait for the Old Man to make his way downstairs. No point waiting for someone who would never arrive again. Aaron had finally appeared from his room, face set in a scowl.

“We sorted the presents into piles.” said Clint. “That one’s yours Cas, that’s yours Gabe, and that’s yours Gad.”

Clint settled down in front of his own presents. Lucky came and collapsed against him, tongue out and tail wagging. Clint scratched his chest absentmindedly as he waited for the others to sit down. Castiel was handing Barney his presents. Barney had lowered himself onto the sofa, his face grey. Clint had decided to put it down to tiredness.

“Can we please open them now?” asked Clint. “If it’s food, it’ll have gone off by now.”

Gadreel laughed from where he was sat next to Barney, until Clint nailed him in the head with a present. They started opening them then. He’d bought a Muggle book on bees for Castiel, since the other boy had been so fascinated by them over summer. Gabriel, he gave Dungbombs. Aaron and Pops got chocolate, while Natasha got a spy book she’d admired in Flourish and Blotts. Gadreel and Barney had been hard to buy for. Clint had eventually settled for a dartboard and darts for Barney and a hoodie for Gadreel.

“Open yours Clint.” said Barney.

There was an enormous amount of chocolate from various people, Frank had gotten him a Green Arrow action figure, Benny had procured a Montrose Magpies poster, Dean had sent him a silver ring with a ram’s head engraved on it, Thor had sent a book on Scandinavian myths, while Castiel had bought him a purple hoodie.

“Oh Cas, you little shit.”

“Language.” said Pops and Barney.

It didn’t sound the same coming from just two mouths instead of about ten, all highly indignant. Gadreel had bought him new arrows, because clearly Gadreel was the best. Barney’s present was a heavy silver chain with a silver hawk’s head pendant with blue gems for its eyes.

“Whoa.”

Obviously he put it on immediately, along with Dean’s ring. They lazed around in the living room, picking at each other’s chocolates and watching terrible Muggle TV. Pops eventually announced that dinner was ready and they piled into the kitchen. There wasn’t really enough room around the table for all of them, even with the table extended. There definitely weren’t enough chairs, which is how Clint ended up perched on a garden chair that had seen better days while Castiel hunched over on a wobbly stool.

“Pass me the spuds.” said Aaron.

Clint passed the bowl over. Barney had been banned from the kitchen while the dinner was being made so it tasted lovely. Pops, Gadreel and Gabriel were drinking wine like refined adults while Barney drank juice. Clint’s request for coffee had been denied and as a result, he’d been given milk.

“I’m old enough to drink coffee!”

“But none of us want to deal with you on a caffeine high.” said Castiel.

Clint pointed his fork at him. “I used to like you.”

Castiel smiled at him. They ate and drank until they were full and then Pops produced a Yule log, still in the shop packet. It wasn’t like Grandma Carina’s, who’d taken pride in making every aspect of it by hand, even the frosting on top.

“That was incredible Mr Moody.” said Castiel.

Pops almost blushed amid his insistence that Castiel call him Alastor. They drifted back into the living room, where they read, or watched the TV, or stared at the ceiling in a food coma. Eventually, toward 10pm onwards, the conversation turned to sleeping arrangements. While it was technically a four-bedroom house, nobody slept in Will’s room. Natasha and Clint shared, Aaron stayed in what had been Barney’s room, and they’d converted what had been the dining room into a ground-floor bedroom for Barney. Aaron and Clint had started off sharing when Aaron had first come in. But the resulting arguments had resulted in it being much safer for Natasha to stay in the attic.

“Well, Cas can stay in our room.” said Clint.

“I’m not sharing a bed with him.” replied Natasha immediately.

Clint would have rolled his eyes but it took far too much effort.

“We have a sleeping bag. I’ll take that, Cas can take the bed.”

“I don’t want to throw you out of your bed.”

“It’s cool, it’s really comfy.”

There was an argument about where Gadreel and Gabriel were going to sleep. The final decision was that Gadreel and Aaron would share a bed while Gabriel slept in the other one in Aaron’s room. Nobody dared suggest somebody shared with Pops and nobody really wanted to share with Barney, since he woke up at some ungodly hour like 8am. Once the debate was settled, Natasha went to change and sleep. Clint and Castiel followed her up half an hour later, when they deemed it safe. Clint snuggled into the sleeping bag as Castiel turned out the light.

“Good night.” said Natasha.

“Merry Christmas.” said Clint.

“Thank you for inviting us.” said Castiel.

Clint still wished he could have shown Will his ring and necklace, and Pops’ face when Castiel complimented his food but he supposed it was a pretty good Christmas, all things considered.

Notes:

I'm back! Real life has been a lovely combination of medication withdrawal, job-hunting, pandemic, finishing finals, dealing with family illnesses. But! I am back!

Series this work belongs to: