Before lunchtime.


He dropped to the floor with a huff and stretched his feet out towards the bedroom fireplace. It had been a cold, drizzly spring morning of walking in the woods with papa. His father walked for the sake of walking, telling stories about the oldest trees or great mossy boulders or the little cave by the lake. The dogs had gone with them, bounding ahead and circling back if papa whistled.

Feliks loved it. Even if it had left him soaked and sore, necessitating a hot bath in the middle of the morning.

Now, dry and warm, he felt like he could idle comfortably in his room before lunch. They were all going out to eat - in London. And it really was all of them. Aunt Nathaira and Uncle Cam arrived last night, and great grandpa had already been here when Feliks came in from Hogwarts. A few cousins and his other uncles would be coming to stay tonight.

Papa said people would begin trickling into the manor every day until the wedding. Although it was a big manor, soon, much as it had been during Christmas, the whole place would be buzzing with Spectres.

Until then he could enjoy being at home in peace. Feliks took out a large sketchbook from his backpack, which was leaning against the armchair by the mantle. His bedroom was big - it had been his great grandmother's parlour before, and was on the first floor.

On the other end of the room was a four poster bed stripped of its curtains. Little vine plants grew along the posts instead, stemming from a couple of pots hiding behind the trunk at the edge of the bed. Herbology homework. Feliks had grown up sharing rooms most of his life, so he kept his space neatly. Only a few books and rolls of paper strewn across his desk by the window, and some clothes hanging off the back of the chair.

He flipped open the sketchbook to what looked like a colourfully drawn map of the estate ground, and took out a green colour pencil. A knock came at the door. Feliks started scribbling in the new spots he found today.

"Come in!" he called out without looking up, expecting Papa to check in on him before lunch. "We are not leaving yet, are we?"

The house was filling with people. Noise, voices, presences. One could never quite be alone, but somehow, when one wanted to be, one still could be in the numerous rooms. It was gone eleven months since it had officially become home to a lanky, dark-haired German wizard, and nearly eight since it had become home to the rapidly-growing, sometimes equally-as-lanky and dark-haired Feliks. Balfour's son.

The elves had been busy preparing the other rooms for the new arrivals due that evening. This time next Saturday they would be right in the thick of it, getting married in front of family and friends. There was a nervous buzz of anticipation occupying Johann from the moment he woke to when he finally got to sleep. A good kind of nervous, an excited kind.

While Balfour had taken Feliks and the dogs out for a long, drizzly walk, Johann had caught up with things. Things included time with Knox, Carr, and nearly one-year-old baby Cam, who unlike the other babies Johann encountered in his life of late, remained steadfastly silent from the curse. She made tiny hand gestures from her parents arms, and though it was a simple conversation, Johann was forever thrilled to practise a new language.

Johann had dressed early for lunch, anticipating Balfour would want a decent soak in a bath, so had leaned over the soap-suds gingerly to kiss his fiancé before negotiating the hallways in the direction of Felik's room.

He knocked politely, and heard a query.
"No, not quite yet," he replied cordially to Feliks, "but you are ready, aren't you?" He stepped into the room, dressed somewhat smartly in a suit, akin to one he might wear for work, but with a little more colour. He hadn't slipped on his shoes yet, so his feet crossed the floor in stripy socks.

Feliks in contrast wore sandy colours and blue jeans which suited his pale complexion well. It took Johann a moment to spot him on the floor, legs out before him, an oversized book propped on them.

"I'm not interrupting, am I?" He asked, somewhat rhetorically as adults often did, as he sank down on the end of the neatly made bed, twisting to face Feliks by the fire.

"Did you have a good walk with B-Papa?" It was still not quite habit to refer to Balfour by this other name, only because Feliks had been at school two terms now and home only sporadically therefore.

It was Johann! A smile lit up his face and he shifted slightly so that he was better facing the older wizard, sketchbook open on his lap.

"Yes!" Feliks answered brightly, turning the book around to hold up the sketch to Johann. "Papa showed me the cave near the lake," he pointed at the filled-in circle he was using to represent it on the map, "and some other places too. He said he wants us to go swimming in the summer."

Oh, he was dying for the summer. Hogwarts was wonderful - as was being shown around the Forest[1] by Uncle Sylvain - but Feliks wanted to explore the estate grounds in genuinely warm weather. It never got very warm where he grew up. The idea of bounding around so freely was an ecstatic one.

Imagine! And with Ivoire and Sangre and all his favourite humans too.

"And papa told me we can even travel?" he lowered the sketchbook, hopeful eyes on Johann's face. "My friends at school travel too, they go to Europe with their mamas and papas."

There were so many places he wanted to see, places he had only seen in books or, more recently, in magazines. Johann and papa were going to North America together while Feliks was at Hogwarts for his last term, and he was relieved to learn that their honeymoon didn't mean there wasn't time for them to travel in the summer also.

1.	22nd March - Under Giant Trees

A smile broke out on Johann's face at the sight of the sketchmap. Plans for summer already underway. Feliks always brought such energy to any conversation, whether it was his wish to share things - with so much being new to him - or his curiosity.

".. we can even travel? My friends at school travel too..." Johann nodded, agreeing at the possibility. "... with their mamas and papas."

"Of course. Me and Papa won't have all the fun. We'll be glad to have you home, or with us in any case." The smile renewed. "There was something I wanted to ask you, actually, Feliks." He tilted his head slightly, a strangely nervous anticipation in his stomach growing.

"Like you mentioned, your school friends have their 'mamas and papas'," Johann had his Mutti and Vati until he was perhaps eight years old when his father had insisted on the slightly more formal Mutter and Vater.

"And when your papa and I marry next week, we'll be husbands," That phrase always brought colour to his cheeks, "and I'll be a Spectre too. Balfour will always be your papa, and I will never replace your mama," good grief, what a thought.

This wasn't quite coming out as he'd rehearsed it in the mirror...! 

"But, I wondered if you would like me to also become your parent? Another father if you like." His gaze didn't leave the young wizard's face. "You can decide what you'd wish to call me, of course." Johann raised his shoulders in a shrug, and then lifted his hands from the knot they'd tied themself in on his lap, gesturing towards the boy.

"What I mean is, Feliks, is that I would like to adopt you, officially, I mean, as my son... is that something you would like, too?"

Feliks was very confused at first, sat on the rug and listening to Johann attentively.

            "Balfour will always be your papa, and I will never replace your mama...."

That did not make him any less confused - a wrinkle formed between his eyebrows. Replace his mama? What was there to replace? His mother had been a ghost all his life and now, knowing she was dead, she was simply more of a ghost. Although Feliks had many questions he wished he could ask, he never wished for her presence.

And then things got more confusing. Another father? Wasn't Johann already kind of his father?

            "What I mean is, Feliks, is that I would like to adopt you, officially," the wizard continued, "I mean, as my son... is that something you would like, too?"

Oh.

The sketchbook fell to the floor and he was on his feet in a flash, hugging Johann enthusiastically. "Yes!" he exclaimed before stepping back, suddenly shy. "I mean, yes, please," his mouth was stretched wide into a grin and his dark curls seemed bouncier than usual. "I would like that very much."

He had wondered if, after the wedding, what to call Johann. But this was even better than anything he imagined - it hadn't occurred to him that Johann could officially become his parent too.

"I can call you father?" Feliks stepped back, perching on the arm of the small armchair by the fireplace. "Does Oma know?"

His friends and housemates sometimes referred to their fathers as dad but Feliks couldn't bring himself to use that word yet; it was so casual, rolling of their tongues like an afterthought.

Despite Johann's unintended fumbling of the explanation, Feliks got the gist almost immediately. He was there all of a sudden, sweeping his short arms around the wizard's upper body and squeezing tight.

"I can call you father?"
"You can call me whatever you prefer," the end of an eyebrow lifted, "as long as it's not rude..."

He hadn't expected such eager acceptance, but he hadn't anticipated great resistance either. Perhaps just awkwardness, or a request to think on it. But Feliks had a unique way to bounce from one strange thing to the next in his life and eagerly consume it, as growing boys did with food.

"Does Oma know?"
"She... she knows I intended to ask you." Johann explained, recalling his mother's continued excitement at anything to do with Feliks being in any sense her first grandchild. "But she obviously doesn't know your answer." He gave a little shrug, tone a clear suggestion that Feliks was welcome to share the news.

"Feliks," he reached out a pale, long-fingered hand in anchor, "thank you. I know it's not always straightforward for you since you arrived, but I'm always glad you're here. And I will be as proud to call you my son as I will be to call Balfour my husband."

There was a strange tension, not a bad sort, just a new sort. He broke it with a nod and gentle smile.

He was thrilled - Feliks didn't really know what to do with his joy, these intense bursts of happiness that had been so rare when he was growing up in Siberia. At present he tried to sit still, grinning.

Being at home in Edinburgh meant so much to him. He relished every moment, even when papa and Johann were being silly and flirting. Feliks rolled his eyes a lot but he didn't hate that about them. Their love was a reminder that he was was accepted as a part of this family. And the love was everywhere, really. In cousins and uncles and aunts.

Even in the walls, tapestries, photographs. Feliks felt like love must be magic. It could transform places as well as people.

            "And I will be as proud to call you my son as I will be to call Balfour my husband."

He felt very grown up, shaking Johann's hand in understanding. Almost conspiratorial - because they were both born strangers to this great house and its people, and were now becoming a part of it.

"Thank you." Feliks let go, grin tempered into a happy smile. "I... I'm very pleased to be able to call you father. Um. Sometimes I think papa does not realise how... different it is here for me. But you understand."

A flutter of something anxious dawned on him all of a sudden and he looked at Johann properly. "I am sorry if I make you and papa worry."

Feliks had lied to Balfour about the medallion in his mystery package, to explosive[1] consequences, and he still felt guilty about it. Especially now that he was home and everyone was being so nice to him.

1.	17th March - The Only Other Sound

"... how different it is here for me. But you understand."

"Mm." Johann replied, understanding exactly how that felt. It wasn't that they were strangers to it all, just had both grown up in very different places to great Scottish estate and a house full of relatives. Different for sure.

"I am sorry if I make you and Papa worry." Feliks offered in a rather sober tone. Johann couldn't help but look him up and down to read for something more behind that, a suggestion of a prevailing guilty conscience. He tilted his head ever so slightly to the left, blue eyes narrowing.

"I believe that comes with being a parent, and being a son," he suggested after a momentary consideration. "But talking more never hurts." Hypocrite.

His expression softened from scrutiny to affection once more. "We are all just looking out for you, but same goes both ways. We are sorry if we make you worry." Balfour was still regularly in reach of lethal dragons, for goodness sake.

             "....are sorry if we make you worry."

Hands busy securing a paisley ascot tie around his neck, Balfour leaned against the door frame of his son's room and smiled warmly at the sight of the two dark-haired wizards. Johann always looked good in a suit. And Feliks was neatly dressed, wearing a sweater vest that Bal recognised as his own from around that age.

Family. The word had transformed in meaning in the past year, growing vaster to include these two at the forefront.

"Ready for some food?" he asked, hands going from tie to inside his pockets. "Seanair's downstairs with Knox, Cam owled to say he'll meet us at the restaurant."

Balfour didn't want to intrude on the subject of conversation prior to his appearance - he knew what it had been about, and felt deeply curious about Feliks' response, but wanted to affect as much casualness as he could. It was, after all, perfectly natural. The boy's contained smile told him everything that could possibly be said anyway.

           "I could eat a Hippogriff!" Feliks hopped to his feet, tossing his sketchbook on to the armchair.

"Don't say that around the Hippogriffs." Balfour laughed as he stepped aside to let his son pass. His gaze shifted to Johann - a hand held out, head tipped to the side.

The moment was brought to a conclusion by their impending departure. Balfour had appeared at the door to the room, dressed for lunch. He nonchalantly listed off the family waiting for them downstairs, but Johann's attention was on his handsome appearance, naturally.

Feliks was ready in an instant, stomach ruling him like every young boy. Johann's rumbled quietly at the suggestion of lunch approaching, so like boy like man. Father? Hm.

"I could eat a hippogriff!"
"Don't say that around the hippogriffs."

"Are they coming to lunch too?" Johann asked, getting to his feet, clasping his fiancé's hand automatically, beaming. He leaned in to place a kiss on Balfour's lips, in response to the tilt of his future husband's head. In that moment of fresh cologne, humour and expectant lunch guests, everything was perfect.


End