Archive of Our Own

Midas, my Niffler, was hanging upside down and attached to Mia Nottingham’s hand. I scrambled out of my seat and took Midas back into my arms. He hummed and curled into the safety of my left arm, like a baby, and promptly fell asleep.

“Oi, Boonsri, your little rat got into my jewelry box again.” Her hand on her hip. This was the seventh time today. Ever since Mia and I moved into the dorm, Midas had been insatiable.

“Sorry,” I apologised. I pried out the sapphire ring from Midas’s claw and clicked my tongue at him, handing Mia her expensive looking accessory back.

Mia waved her hand, “I can’t stay mad at you Boonsri, just try to not let it happen again.”

I nodded politely, sitting back down. Mia sat back down across from me, as we waited for the sorting ceremony to begin. Mia kept me realistic, because she said I had the horrible habit of being too optimistic. That I assumed everyone was just as straightforward and direct as I was. I liked to explain it as I was giving everyone a hefty serving of something called; the benefit of the doubt.

As soon as I settled in and started taking a bite of the chicken stew, Midas crawled out from my arms. The loss of warmth was the first sign. The second was that everyone at the Hufflepuff table started making short noises and yelps as Midas scurried down the length of the table.

My heart sank down immediately.

Mia raised an eyebrow at me. Clare Waldorf, our other housemate, scoffed at me. She held up her nails and shook her head at me.

I’d been trying to build my friendship with Clare and now she thought I was impossible. Great.

I threw my head back and groaned.

Dumbledore was already loudly announcing new first year names, and the Sorting Hat got to work placing kids into their houses. Professors seemed enthralled by the sorting process, and everyone else did too.

So I figured it wouldn’t be anything too bad if I just- you know- got on my knees under the table and started crawling to find Midas.

I got to the end of the Hufflepuff table, only bumping into a few people’s shoes. I tried holding my nose, but it couldn’t relieve the smell of teenage foot stink. The things I did for Midas.

I saw Midas scurry over to the long table adjacent to Hufflepuff, Slytherin. I put my forehead flat down on the cold stone of the floor, trying not to groan again. A simple whimper sufficed when I realised I was toeing the line of something that could potentially be very embarrassing.

“Midas,” I hissed.

The Niffler ignored me.

Of course he did.

I watched from beneath the Hufflepuff table as he darted between polished black shoes and dark green robes. Nobody at the Slytherin table noticed him yet. Unfortunately, I noticed exactly what he was heading toward.

Silver.

Lots and lots of silver.

The prefect badges alone were enough to make Midas lose all common sense.

“No, no, no, no–” I whisper-yelled.

A first-year squeaked as Midas shot between his feet. The boy jerked his legs up onto the bench.

Several older Slytherins started a verbal tussle. One of them frowned. Another pointed.

“Is that a mole?”

“It has a duck bill.”

“It has Pucey’s bracelet.”

My eyes widened.

My Niffler was, in fact, dragging a silver bracelet nearly half his body length back to me from underneath the table. A thwarted robbery gone haywire now that Midas had been caught. I should’ve stopped watching those Westerns over the summer when Mum brought Midas home from the reservation. I couldn’t help it- Dad loved his classic muggle movies, being a muggle himself.

I crawled out from under the table just as three Slytherins stood up. One of the boys picked Midas up, took the bracelet back, and then set Midas down on the table. Midas tried to stay still, like people wouldn’t be able to see him if he paused all movements. Instead, Midas was stepping in a jar of blueberry compote.

“Sorry!” I blurted. “Sorry, that's mine.”

The entire section of table went quiet.

At the staff table, Professor McGonagall was busy watching the Sorting. Dumbledore was smiling at something the Sorting Hat had apparently said. Nobody important was paying attention.

A tall Slytherin boy spoke, “Your what?”

“My Niffler.” I explained.

He smirked, holding the bracelet with one finger- it dangled almost precariously, “Your Niffler stole my bracelet.”

“Yes.”

“You sound very calm about that.”

“It happens a lot. Unfortunately.” I stutter out a laugh.

The boy stared at me. He had ordinary brown hair and ordinary features, which was honestly annoying because somehow he still looked unfairly attractive. I was trying not to swoon as I glanced at him. His hair had its own Gringotts account, for sure.

Midas chose that exact moment to climb up my robes, perch on my shoulder, and proudly present me with a second stolen item.

A silver pocket watch.

I closed my eyes.

“That's not mine either,” I muttered.

The Slytherin made a strangled noise, resisting laughter as he covered his mouth and moved his head to the side.

Around us, several students were beginning to laugh.

“Miss Boon-shree.”

I knew that voice.

I turned slowly.

Professor Snape stood at the end of the table, robes billowing dramatically despite the complete lack of wind. He was like a big-winged bat. I imagined him hanging upside down in his office, grading papers by using one long sharp fingernail dipped in charcoal powder.

His dark eyes dropped to Midas.

Midas immediately stuffed the pocket watch into his pouch.

“Good evening, Professor,” I said weakly.

“Explain.”

“It's a Niffler.”

“I am aware of what it is.”

“He’s diagnosed with being a kleptomaniac?”

Snape's expression somehow became even less impressed.

Beside me, a few Slytherins snorted with laughter. But the boy, who I was assuming was Pucey- swatted a few of his classmates and shushed them. He was trying to redirect the focus to the sorting ceremony. I spotted the Prefect’s badge shining on his chest.

Midas hummed happily and reached toward the silver clasp on Snape's sleeve.

I caught his paw just in time.

The Sorting Hat called another name.

The entire Great Hall remained focused on the ceremony.

Meanwhile, I was standing in front of the Head of Slytherin holding a criminal Niffler and a growing collection of stolen jewellery.

“I don’t think anyone anticipated dealing with a thieving pet at the beginning of their seventh year at Hogwarts.” I mustered, trying to yield to Snape’s scowl.

“Five points from Hufflepuff.”

My head snapped up.

Professor Snape stared down his nose at me, “For allowing a magical creature to disrupt the Sorting Ceremony.”

“But–”

“Ten points.”

I immediately shut my mouth.

Behind me, several Slytherins appeared delighted. Mia, traitor that she was, had apparently noticed the situation and was laughing so hard she had her face buried in her arms at the Hufflepuff table.

“Midas didn't mean to–”

“Fifteen points.”

“Sorry, Professor.”

Snape held out a pale hand.

“The stolen items.”

I reached into Midas’s pouch despite him trying to hold my hand away. I stare down the rodent and manage to grab the watch out, even if I did have to feel around blind. I obediently deposited the pocket watch into Snape’s palm after I had found it and pulled it out of Midas’s now watchless pouch.

Midas hissed.

“Don't start,” I muttered.

My Niffler crossed his tiny arms and made an indignant chittering noise.

To my horror, Pucey let out a laugh.

Not a smooth, lithe chuckle. Not a reserved, smug smirk.

He laughed. Several of the Slytherins around him looked equally as shocked as I felt. One of them actually stared at him before turning to look at me.

My eyes had been drawn over to the Pucey boy.

Pucey noticed.

Our eyes met.

Heat scampered up my neck.

I was used to people finding Midas funny. I wasn’t used to them finding me funny without making me feel like the joke.

A moment later I realised the warmth wasn't entirely stemming from embarrassment. Midas had wedged himself into the hood of my robes and was happily nuzzling against the back of my neck.

At least one of us seemed to be doing perfectly okay in this situation.

Meanwhile I’d just lost my House fifteen points and put us into a debt I would definitely need to start working to repay. I could already tell Mia was going to force me to start studying more and start raising my hand more often in Care of Magical Creatures, because I did typically get those ones right.

I briefly considered transferring to Beauxbatons.

***

Three days after the Sorting Ceremony and slight disaster with Midas, I was summoned to Professor Snape's office. Which should’ve been normal, but I wasn’t taking Potions this year. I’d be focusing more on Care of Magical Creatures, focusing my NEWTS on my future career.

The basement dungeon was terribly drafty, causing Midas to tug on my school shirt enough that I pulled out a loose elastic wrap and wound it around my body so Midas could snuggle into my torso and I could keep my hands free at the same time. Technically, it was a baby carrier. To me, Midas was still a baby though.

I stood in front of his desk trying not to fidget while Professor Snape stared at me over steepled fingers.

"Miss Boon-shree,” he started.

I sighed, "It’s Boonsri."

Snape blinked.

"It's pronounced Boon-see."

"It is not spelled that way."

“Regardless, that’s how it’s said,” I paused, adding, “Professor, sir.”

There was a pause.

A very long pause.

"Noted."

Judging by his expression, it absolutely was not noted. Much like anything else having to do with me. Beside me stood Adrian Pucey, perfect posture in a prefect sort of way. He was miserable.

"As Mr. Pucey is a Prefect," Snape continued, "he will be responsible for documenting any future incidents involving your Niffler. You go to him if something happens, or he will seek you out if he even believes that there could be a Niffler related issue."

Pucey's head turned toward Snape so quickly I thought he might have injured himself.

"I will?"

"Congratulations."

"Professor–" I tried to interject.

"Meeting adjourned.” Snape said. Promptly turning around in his office chair and focusing on a cauldron that looked like it had seen much better days.

Neither of us had volunteered for this arrangement. But Snape handcrafted it so dastardly well.

I accepted it quickly, turning to face Adrian with my hand held out for him to shake. Adrian spied it for a second, then shook my hand using only his pointer finger and thumb to move my palm up and down.

Together we stepped out of the Potions classroom and I sighed a long exhale of relief. Adrian raised an eyebrow at me before walking down the hallway to his common room.

Without turning back to me, he says, “Your Niffler is a meddling menace of mayhem Boonsri.”

At least he says my last name right. I thought the phrase ‘meddling menace of mayhem’ was rather humorous, so I said it five times repeatedly, increasing in speed as I scurried back to my common room as well.

Midas was rustling around in the baby carrier. I stuck my finger in the carrier, going to tickle him but Midas produced a shiny silver pin. Engraved with a curly, formal, Roman styled capital ‘P’ on the front. I nicked it from Midas and pointed a stern finger at him. Midas spun around in the carrier and hid himself.

He could be clever in avoiding any sort of reprimand that I would try to give him. But it was my ultimate aim to train Midas to be used for Curse-Breaking adventures. So, in all truthfulness, I didn’t mind that Midas was brilliant at stealing. I just wish the thieving would occur after I instructed him to do so.

I groaned, turning on my heel to find Adrian.

The young man had already made himself scarce.

I’d have to go right into the lair of Slytherin.

I was staring at the arching concrete snake that prevented me from being able to enter. I’d already thrown out some common passwords that I assumed might have been used for their house. Fang, as an example for one of them.

I was entirely lost, until a girl, about third or fourth year, sauntered up to the entryway. She had honey-brown hair and deep amber eyes.

“Can I help you with something?” she asked.

I put a hand in my hair and nodded, “I’m trying to enter your common room.”

She folded her arms in front of her body, “Why?”

I showed her the pin, “I need to get this back to Adrian Pucey. My- erm- my pet stole it.”

Her face brightened like a shiny galleon.

“Well, you’re looking right at his more darling, more beautiful, more intelligent younger sister. Adella Pucey, pleasure’s all mine.”

I’d forgotten that we had two Puceys at Hogwarts. I blame it on not interacting much with underclassmen unless they had gotten lost on the shifting staircases. And now that I was thinking about it, I’d helped her out a few times as well. Hoping that that left some sort of fond memory for Adella regarding me and my request to just pop into her common room.

I handed it to her, but she curled my fingers into my hand.

“I’d rather you give it to him yourself…”

“Boonsri.”

“Boonsri,” she smiled.

She whispered the password near the face of the snake, and it slithered up into the ceiling, revealing a cold passageway exposing the green and silver common room of Slytherin House. The first thing that stuck out to me was the coziness. Lots of soft, fuzzy blankets. It contrasted with my preconceived notions.

I didn’t know what I was expecting at first. But it was like a normal common room. In fact, it closely resembled the Hufflepuff commonroom, just with a filter overtop. And the silver accents everywhere. Not to mention the silky-looking curtains that had been gathered to one side, allowing for a good view into the Black Lake. I considered putting my hand on the cushions, dark green velvet looking particularly nice to touch.

Adrian was curled up on a sofa, surrounded by blankets, reading a book without a title on it. Embossed on the cover was a bronze foil outline of a Niffler. He was fairly far into the literature. The sidetable had his quill and a parchment- he’d been taking notes about what he was reading.

Adella hit her hand against the wall, stirring attention from everyone in the common room. I gave my best ‘first-impression-do-your-best-smile-Boonsri’ expression and made my shoulders straighter.

Adrian swiftly stuck a bookmark in his book, tucking it under the blankets as he stood up and tried to brush away the blanket fuzz off his slacks.

I held my hand out, “...Here."

He took his Prefect badge back, pinning it neatly on his chest right above his heart. In the low lighting of the common room, it didn’t shine as much as it had in the Great Hall.

"Apologies, truly,” I laughed a little. I put a hand in my carrier and rubbed Midas’s tummy.

Adrian’s eyes narrow, leaning forward to get a glimpse of the inside portion of the pouch that I was wearing over my school uniform, "Your pet?"

"My pet." I confirmed, gleefully.

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

I winced.

"You hate me, don't you?" I grimaced, retreating by stepping back slightly. I was used to hearing things like that from Clare specifically, especially when Midas did something naughty. I wondered if Adrian would be similar.

His head snapped up. He seemed appalled at the thought.

"What?"

"You always look annoyed when you see me."

He did always seem annoyed. With an underlying hint of amusement, in a way that made me seem like an event at the circus, or like I did my own stand-up comedy.

He folded his arms over his body, exactly like how Adella had earlier. Confirming to me that they really were blood-related. He grazes his badge lightly before resting his hand back on his bicep.

"I look annoyed because your Niffler keeps stealing my belongings."

I gave an awkward shrug, blending it with an attempt to inspire friendship to sprout between Adrian and I by shyly highlighting how endearing I could be.

“If I considered you annoying would I be spending my precious spare time reading about-” He shifted his eyes to the spot where he had been sitting.

I followed immediately.

The sofa.

The blanket.

The book he'd shoved underneath it.

Embossed into the dark cover was the unmistakable outline of a Niffler.

I looked at the book, with its navy blue cover peeking out under the blanket.

Then I went back to making eye contact with Adrian.

He’d been studying about Nifflers, even before Snape assigned him to manage my Niffler related crimes. He wasn’t very good at keeping secrets. Or hiding things. I mean, who hides their guilty pleasure under a blanket where everyone could find it. I realised I’d been hiding chocolate inside the couch cushions back at Hufflepuff house. I’d accidentally stained a few robes from the chocolate melting.

“Nevermind. You are annoying. I’ll see you at breakfast-” he froze. Then, “I’ll- I’ll see you when your pest causes another problem.”

I gave him a big smile.

Adella decides now is the time to speak up, “He’s checked out three books from the library. About Nifflers. Did you know that? Curious, isn’t it?”

“Adella.” Adrian threatens.

Adella puts a finger to her lips, “Technically four if we count the latest monthly magazine on Magical Creatures and Where to Find Them.”

“ADELLA!” Adrian groans, reaching over to shove Adella into the wall. She ducks and runs over to the couch, stealing the book. Adrian trails her, chasing her in between tables, chess sets, and couches.

I’d always wanted a sibling to tease. Midas did a good enough job at playing around that I didn’t feel as bad about not having siblings. But sometimes, when you saw a brother and sister messing around, it tugged melancholically at your heart strings.

I waved cheerfully at Adrian.

"Thank you for researching Nifflers."

Adrian stopped chasing his sister, mid-stride. He’d been shocked back into remembering he was supposed to be precise about his social standing and appearance.

Adella nearly ran into a table from laughing, as she almost bent over the table.

Several Slytherins made noises that sounded suspiciously like wolf whistles.

I frowned.

"Why is everyone reacting like that?"

Nobody answered me. Midas tried to respond to me by letting out a sleepy titter and rolling into a ball before stretching his limbs back out and kicking me in the ribs.

I took that as my sign to leave.

***

Mia Nottingham was as much as my friend as she was Clare Waldorf’s friend. That’s what I had to keep telling myself. Even when Clare Waldorf appraised me up and down with a disgusted expression on her features.

“I love how, uniquely, you dress Boonsri.” Clare said, holding up a lacy blouse in front of her in the mirror.

I sat cross legged on my bed.

Mia was in the bathroom showering.

Our fourth girl, Esme, was already out with her boyfriend.

So I was left alone with Clare staring me down while I shined my loafers. I scrubbed the leather with a black polish back and forth, the bristles occasionally hitting my wrist from where I had inserted my hand into the shoe for support.

Clare never wore loafers. She always wore branded ballet flats, or fancy Mary Jane style pumps.

I was optimistic, but not ignorant to the fact that Clare Waldorf did not like me. I didn’t know exactly why that was, but I did know it started sometime during the first week of this year.

Before that, she'd been alright. Not quite friendly or warm. But she’d been more tolerable. She’d been pleasant. The exact definition of the word.

Then one day she'd started looking at me as if I'd personally invented mud and tracked it across her favourite carpet. Which, I did occasionally, but I always made sure to do a cleaning spell afterwards. No reason to hold a grudge against me.

It could be quite isolating when Mia and Clare talked about things, but didn’t make an effort to include me. I felt like I could contribute to the conversations they had. Clare insisted that I would miss the joke or misinterpret their assessment of one of our peers. It was something that made me feel lonely, even when there were so many people around.

I buffed my loafer until I could practically see my reflection in it.

Clare turned slightly in front of the mirror, examining the blouse from every angle. It was red and frilly. It made her pale skin look even more like porcelain.

"Are you going to the Hogsmeade trip next weekend?" she asked.

I thought. I needed to buy more pet food for Midas, since he’d started digging into my candy supply and I couldn’t have that happening again, it gave him a horrible stomach ache.

"Probably."

"With anyone?"

I looked up from my shoe, "Why would I need to go with anyone?"

Clare stared at me.

Then she looked away. A strange expression crossed her face, "Oh. Right."

I waited, but nothing else followed the comment.

"Right what?" I asked.

"Nothing."

I opened my mouth to press further when Mia emerged from the bathroom, steam billowing around her like she'd just survived a tropical rainforest.

Her dark hair was wrapped in a towel. Some water droplets fell onto her freshly moisturized onyx-coloured skin.

"Why does it feel tense here?" she asked.

"Clare asked if I was going to Hogsmeade." I answered.

"And?"

"And apparently I answered incorrectly."

"I didn't say that." Clare cut in, putting the blouse back into the wardrobe.

I scoffed, "You implied it."

"I did not."

"You absolutely did."

Mia pointed at both of us, "No."

We stopped arguing enough for Mia to continue with, "Whatever weird argument this is, save it until I've dried my hair."

Mia disappeared back toward her side of the dormitory. She had at least ten bottles of curl cream and other hair products waiting for her on the vanity.

Clare sighed dramatically.

I resumed polishing my shoe.

For several minutes, the only sounds were the scrape of my brush and the rustling of hangers.

Then Midas poked his head out from my blankets. His little nose twitched. Every survival instinct I possessed activated.

Midas halted.

His eyes widened innocently. Which meant something innocent was not going to occur in the slightest.

"Don't."

Midas slowly withdrew beneath the blankets.

I narrowed my eyes.

The blanket lump moved suspiciously.

"Midas."

The lump froze.

"Midas." I said again, more menacingly.

A tiny metallic clink.

I dropped the shoe onto the floor with a thud.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake."

I lunged across the bed.

Midas shot out from underneath the blankets like a furry cannonball.

Something silver dangled from his mouth.

"MIDAS!"

My Niffler sprinted. He was treating our common room like a playground. Over my bed, Mia’s bed, straight onto Clare’s. To which she promptly screamed and yelled out an expletive I would prefer not repeat again.

Before any of us could think more clearly about it, we were all screaming out for Midas. He launched himself off of Clare’s pillow and landed on the center rug of our room.

Something flew out of his mouth.

The object spun through the air.

Clink.

There, on the floorboards, sat a silver ring.

A very familiar silver ring.

Clare's face went white.

My stomach dropped.

Because I recognised it too.

I'd seen Adrian Pucey wearing it at breakfast. Every single day for the last week. Every day since I’d started noticing Adrian Pucy. Every day since I started to think that maybe he and I were friends. I’d been trying to co-op a friendship from him. My results didn’t seem too resounding. At least, not yet.

Midas sat proudly beside the ring with his chest puffed out, awaiting me to praise him. In any other circumstance I might have.

"Midas," I whispered, going to scoop him up and coddle him.

He chirped.

"Tell me that isn't Adrian Pucey's ring," Clare grumbled.

Midas chirped again. That was a confirmation if I’d ever heard one before.

Mia collapsed onto her bed laughing.

Clare was horrified.

I now needed to approach Adrian.

Over the past month, I’d been returning all sorts of objects back to Adrian. Because Midas kept stealing, specifically from Adrian.

Tie clips. Watches. Engraved cufflinks. And on multiple occasions, that silver Prefect Badge that was going to be the end of me if Midas kept trying to tuck it into his hoard that he kept in a simple blue box with bows on it that I kept under my bed.

Whenever I went to grab a toffee or lolly, that pin would be sitting right on top of everything, usually with other items like loose coins or necklaces and chains, sometimes it would just be the pin.

I was starting to suspect my Niffler had developed a personal vendetta against Adrian.

I’d started being able to approach Adrian without asking to sit down next to him. Which was strange. Midas revelled in those moments of my flickering confidence. I didn’t want to annoy Adrian by bringing up the fact I had a conniving pet every single day. Adrian did a good job at not shafting me for it. He was considerably warm about it.

I checked the Slytherin common room first, ran into Adella who directed me to the Quidditch pitch.

Adrian hadn’t played Quidditch for the past two years, swapping for a Prefect approach to the rest of his school time. He’d been popular within Hufflepuff house for his clean plays and his rejection of anything that could be considered foul-able. Opting to let skill show through instead of underhandedness.

At the Quidditch pitch I ran into Lee Jordan practicing commentating. No sign of Adrian.

“‘Ello Lee!”

“Boonsri! How’re you?” He asked, voice booming through the speakers, he flushed then set the microphone down.

I explained that I was looking for Adrian. Lee sent me to the library, mentioning that he had seen Adrian holed up there the day prior.

I found Adrian Pucey sitting, intently focused on a paper, scanning it while comparing it to a thick book he had on the desk as well. The library was empty, but then again, most people aren’t spending their Friday morning free period in the library. Just Adrian. And now me too.

I quietly took up the space beside him.

“No.”

I gaped at him.

“If this is about another one of my possessions, I don’t want to know,” he explained.

Slowly, I reached out and slid the ring over to Adrian. He put his hand over mine, still pushing the ring over. His hand was warm.

He closed his eyes.

And I almost felt bad.

"You know," he said eventually, "there are roughly eight hundred students in this castle."

I knew that. Except, I wasn’t sure, because sometimes there could be quiet times like this, and I’d expect for someone to walk in. But, no one did. If there were eight hundred students, then what were the odds of seven hundred ninety eight just not walking into the library while Adrian and I occupied it.

Adrian’s continued speech brings me back, "Yet your Niffler exclusively targets me.”

"Mhm." I pout my lips, tapping my chin.

"I think he's doing it deliberately."

His eyes narrowed, removing his hand from mine lightly and grabbing the ring, sliding it back onto his pointer finger.

I gave an assumption, something clear-cut that made sense, "Midas likes shiny things."

"Then explain why he stole my essay."

I tried to suspend my disbelief. I had not been expecting that.

Midas was walking in circles around my feet, poking at the metal embellishments on my loafers.

"...What?"

Adrian reached into his bag and produced a roll of parchment. The corner had unmistakable bite marks, like Midas had spent a good amount of time nibbling on- The Selective Hoarding Habits of Domestic Nifflers by Adrian Pucey. For a second I stared. Then I laughed so hard I nearly fell out of my chair.

The expression on Adrian's face only made it worse.

“Why did Midas steal your homework?” I chuckled, taking the paper from Adrian. There were little paw prints crawling from the bottom to the top of the sheet. I could see that Adrian had cited some of his personal experiences with Midas as evidence for his argument in the essay.

"If I knew why, I wouldn't be having this conversation."

I laughed even harder. He reached over and tucked the tag of my button up back behind my neck where it belonged. I reached back and scratched my neck with the plastic tag back on my skin. Adrian made a noise of understanding, then he whispered a quick removal spell, took the tag off, and tucked it into his pocket. Quick and effective. And utterly kind.

I leaned my head down and thanked him sheepishly.

And for the first time since we'd met, Adrian smiled.

Unfortunately, that somehow made him even prettier.

I didn’t understand why one boy was allowed to have all the nice features. With all of them compressed into Adrian Pucey like Frankenstein’s monster of pining worthy attractiveness.

Because when people look pretty. My brain spasms and I say the first thing that manages to come to find.

“Your eyes look like cognac.” I leaned back into my chair, watching Adrian’s eyes swirl. I gush all my thoughts about him, directly to him, “Copper-like. They’re this magnificent bronze-y colour.”

Adrian’s smile doesn’t fade, if anything it gets enhanced, “And how do you know what cognac looks like Boonsri?”

“Mia likes things that make adults behave strangely,” I winced, realising I’d shared something I probably shouldn’t have. Nobody liked it when people spilled private things, I recovered by continuing despite the cringe I was carrying, “I need to make sure she stays safe, so I’ll tag along. There's a lot of snakes at Hogwarts you know.”

Adrian’s mouth opens a fraction, and I recognise he’s deciding exactly what he wanted to ask about, until he finally lands on asking, “Snakes, like me?”

“Obviously not you.” I roll my eyes.

“So, I’m trustworthy then?”

He was very direct, honest with his questioning. I realised that Adrian and I were similar in that way. A question like that might have been seen as overbearing, but to Adrian- it was the exact thing to ask to get to the point of the matter.

I blink a few times, “I wouldn't be here if you weren't.”

This seems to make Adrian freeze.

He glanced at me for a moment.

He eventually settles into the comfort of my statement and moves his hand from the table, settling it on my thigh. I wondered if he did this with all his friends. Although, Pucey didn’t seem like a touchy or affectionate person in this sort of way. He does a double take, checking if my reaction was negative or not. I gave him a quirk of my lips, just one corner of my mouth tugging up.

I considered that my bid for friendship with him had finally stuck the landing.

Midas from underneath us hissed.

Midas tries to crawl up his leg, but Adrian begrudgingly picks Midas up by the scruff. Forcing Midas to face him head on. Adrian was having a face-off with my Niffler.

“Quit it,” Adrian says once, stern, but not unkind. Just… in an assertive tone. My throat goes dry, and I have to lick the inside of my mouth to return it to normal.

Midas isn't amused and blows raspberries at Adrian. I laugh and grab Midas, tickling his stomach before letting him curl up in the nook of my arm, once again acting like a baby.

Adrian shifted the hand on my thigh to the chair, pulling my seat close to him, so that our chairs were flush together. He looks at me expectantly. I slide closer to him. Adrian fails at hiding another smile. He managed to ask for permission without asking.

Only once he registered my comfort, did he return his hand to the inner side of my thigh. His thumb swished back and forth on the top of my leg.

“Are you always this comfortable with people?” he inquired.

I mused, “I don’t know if I have an answer for that.”

He accepts it as a complete answer regardless.

His other hand went back to flicking through the book he was reading. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure or not, but I was sure I saw Adrian closing his eyes tightly. It also seemed like his breathing had sped up. His hand kept twitching, but he kept it on my leg.

“Adrian?”

He hums.

“What are you doing?” I ask, “Are you okay?”

“Reading.”

He didn’t answer the second part. I left well enough alone.

I sit back in the chair, trying to settle in. I scratch Midas’s head and caress his fur.

We stayed like that until the free period was up.

Adrian walks me to Care of Magical Creatures, saying that his Herbology class was next door anyway.

I couldn’t argue with that logic.

I blabber about Arithmancy’s upcoming examination, which we had together, until Adrian drops me to class. Then, uncharacteristically, Adrian leans in and rubs Midas’s head.

“Little bugger,” he says to himself before going to his own class.

***

The strangest thing happened sometime in November. We started having more conversations that weren't about stolen property.

Adrian had approached me as I was training Midas for a treasure-hunting challenge.

Adrian’s sister Adella kept looking over at Adrian and I until one of her friends tugged her into the Transfiguration classroom. The corridor with the Transfiguration classroom led out to an empty field. I had Mia babysit Midas one afternoon and I buried one of my metal barrel pens in the dirt. The muggle kind that my dad gave to me without knowing I wasn’t allowed to use it.

Arithmancy had just been let out, and I wanted to run the task with Midas before dinner.

"How was your Arithmancy exam?" he asked.

I had Midas hooked up to a leash, with a harness wrapping around his body. I was letting Midas sniff another one of the metal pens to get familiar with it before releasing him to the large expanse of land.

I itched the back of my hand, still holding to the lease.

“It was good.”

I’d scored an O.

Adrian nods, once, slowly.

"You looked worried before it."

That caught me off guard. Most people didn't notice things like that. I was less so worried about the exam, and more worried about running the drill with Midas after the fact. I wanted Midas to be able to do this. In January, there was an open spot at Gringott’s for a new Curse-Breaker Niffler.

My mum had found Midas abandoned by his family because the mother had sensed Midas could get sick easily and rejected him from the pack. Like with the stomach aches, or if Midas didn’t sleep enough, he started sneezing a lot. Normally Nifflers kept tip-top shape and didn’t need a lot of babying. But Midas did.

The chances of Midas making it into the Niffler Training Program were low. But not impossible. I felt like Midas had a lot of talent, and I was just trying to make it bloom.

"How was yours?" I asked.

"Fine."

If somebody said ‘fine’ about an examination. They were likely and almost definitely not fine with the outcome.

“Adrian?”

"Fine means I forgot one question and have spent six hours thinking about it."

I chuckled, kicking a piece of dirt. Midas was still running his paws over the pen, memorising the scent and feel of it.

"You're insane."

He grinned, "Probably."

It was the first conversation we'd had that had absolutely nothing to do with Midas. I liked the light-hearted nature. It felt nice. Safe.

Until Adrian jumped ship and asked, “Why do you let Clare treat you like that?”

I chewed my bottom lip, kneeling down. I unlock Midas’s harness, ruffling the fur at his neck as he runs off to find the treasure I had hid in the field. Adrian gasps, but I shake my head, letting him know it was all okay. I tuck the pen into my pocket before standing and facing Adrian.

“Like what?”

“She’s constantly putting you down. Like today in Arithmancy, she took your essay from you, compared the scores out loud and said you had to have cheated.”

Adrian was giving a sour expression. Thinking of what Clare had done was making him eat a bowl of raw limes, having to swallow and digest it uncomfortably.

“She’s just joking,” I laugh, biting the inside of my mouth.

“Why do you let her get away with it?” Adrian pressed.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, “I believe people mean well because the alternative is admitting some people choose not to include me. Or because they want to be mean for the sake of it ruffling my feathers.”

"Boonsri, there's a difference between giving someone the benefit of the doubt and volunteering to be their target."

I’m left wordless. Responseless.

Adrian had apparently noticed more than I anticipated. My mind flooded with memories of Adrian watching on as Clare would toy with my hair, give back-handed compliments, or taunt me in Arithmancy. He saw it all.

“I don’t want you to keep assuming everyone means well. A lot of people don’t. Seriously-”

I hold a hand up, “Adrian. Extending grace and second chances doesn’t make me weak.”

“I’m not saying that. I’m saying that you need to accept the reality of some harsh truths.”

“I know that Clare doesn’t like me.”

Adrian’s entire body turns static.

I continue, “I just don’t know what else to do about it.”

“You let me take care of it.” Adrian puts a hand to his chest.

“I don’t want you to fix it for me Adrian.”

We stand in silence.

“I know you don’t need me to fix it,” Adrian pauses, “But it bothers me when you're treated badly. I actually loathe it. It’s been on my nerves since September.”

I blinked.

"Since September?"

Adrian immediately regretted every word he'd just spoken, "That's the part you're focusing on?"

"That's nearly three months." I calculate.

"Boonsri."

"You really kept track?"

"No." Adrian rubbed both hands over his face. "The point is that Clare is awful to you."

"She's not awful all the time." I manage.

"Astonishing deflection there love."

I ignore the ‘love’ comment and barrel ahead, "She's nice to Mia."

"Boonsri," he says firmly.

"And she's polite to Professor Sprout."

"That isn't helping your case."

"And she lent me a quill once."

"You've reduced your evidence of Clare having humanity to stationery." Adrian made a strangled noise and looked skyward as if appealing directly to the heavens for patience, "You understand that someone being polite to a professor doesn't make them inherently kind like you are?"

"Professor Sprout is lovely."

I fold my arms, wondering if Midas would be coming back soon. I look at my watch, if Midas wanted to pass the time-bound limit, he only had another few minutes left.

I turned my attention back to Adrian who looked like he was suffering, “And the quill really was beautiful."

"Stop bringing up the quill."

"It had silver detailing."

Adrian groaned.

I grin at him, "I like silver."

"No. Midas likes silver."

"I also like silver."

He snorts, "You and Midas share a concerning number of traits."

"That's why we're friends."

Adrian shakes his head.

"You're his mother."

Midas, having been quiet about his return from the search starts to scratch at my shoes. Sticking out from the top of his pouch is a silver barrelled metal pen. I bend down and pet his head, kissing his head repeatedly. His little hands and feet were coated in dirt, but I was too proud to worry about it.

I could submit Midas for testing in January. And maybe I could also secure a position for myself as Niffler Support at Gringott’s Bank.

“He’s rather cute, no?” I offer, lifting Midas up with my two hands right in front of Adrian Pucey’s face. Midas seemed happy to see Adrian, reaching out to him.

Adrian makes a sour expression, using one hand to push my arm down. He pressed his fingers into his eyes. Finally, Adrian relaxed and scratched under Midas’s chin. Midas trills gleefully.

"If someone spoke to Adella the way Clare speaks to you, I'd have words about it." The humour slipped out of his voice, "If someone treated one of my friends that way, I'd have words about it. So why shouldn't I care when it happens to you?"

I stared at him. He’d presented a rhetorical question for me to self-reflect on. To have me analyse how Adrian felt about having to care for me. It was all very multi-dimensional. The convolution only hit when I saw that Adrian was annoyed with himself.

Which was strange.

Because he hadn't said anything annoying.

He'd said something kind.

In fact, it was one of the kindest things anybody had said to me all year.

"You really hate Clare." I announce. Midas nods his head rapidly, agreeing with the statement. I put my hand over Midas’s face and click my tongue at him. I could not have my Niffler vying badnaturedly against my roommate.

Adrian barked out a rough laugh, "That cannot possibly be your takeaway from this."

"It's a little bit of my takeaway."

I understood that it hurt Adrian when I got hurt by someone else. I also understood that Adrian had bonded with Midas. And that Midas usually doesn’t like anyone who doesn’t smell like me. Adrian had won one of the biggest battles he could. But he didn’t look victorious.

He looked forlorn.

And he was looking at me like I was worth all the treasure in the hoard Midas had built up underneath my bed.

Somehow, somewhere between returning stolen jewellery and apologising for theft-related incidents, Adrian Pucey had become one of my favourite people. I wasn’t entirely sure when it happened. But this entire conversion did seem to reinforce what I did know about him.

When Adrian cared about something, he cared all the way. He didn’t do halfies with his attention. And he was willing to step in to make me comfortable.

Adrian Pucey wanted to be a hero, my hero.

***

Mia caught a bad cold. Leaving me to fend for myself against Clare.

“Really, Boonsri? Your little toy has to come to class with us?” Clare made a face of disgust at Midas curled up politely in my lap.

I braced myself for impact.

“If I don’t then Midas gets homesick for me.”

“You actually believe that?” Clare said.

I nodded.

“Whatever. You can sit here with the rodent. I’m going to sit by Cedric.”

I had come down to Arithmancy with Clare and we sat in our usual spot. She did not want anything to do with Midas. Or me. Probably more so with me than with Midas.

Clare rolled her purse over her shoulder as she walked away and sat next to Cassius.

Midas wriggled.

Clare had to bring her silver studded purse to class today.

Midas escaped before I could grab onto any of his limbs.

Professor Vector was trying to explain how the number seven could determine who our future spouse was if we aligned it to the stars just right.

“Wait! Midas!”

I ducked immediately. I somehow always found myself crawling on the floor looking for my pet. Sometimes I wonder if it had been worth the trouble to bring him this year- then I remembered that Midas was still only a year old, he was just a baby. And I saw his potential as infinite, despite limiting circumstances.

The seating situation in Professor Vector’s classroom was long height staggered rows. I was at one end, and Clare had just moved to the very end of the same row. What helped to prevent me from devastation was that Professor Vector had floor length table cloths, I was pretty sure that her and Professor Trelawney brought them in bulk at the same store. The pattern of blue velvet with painted stars and celestial constellations was identical between the classrooms.

I started my journey down the isle, doing my best to avoid everyone. Some boys had their feet all the way stretched out to the desk, so I had to crawl over their shins. Not fun. Not fun at all.

I eventually spotted a pair of shoes I recognized, so I tugged on the pant leg of Adrian. He scooted his chair back, face barely scrunched. I popped my head up slightly between his knees, putting my hands on his thighs.

Cassius Warrington and Lee Jordan were on either side of Adrian, but both of them were doing a terrible job of pretending to not be asleep. Neither Cassius or Lee caught that I was very much in Adrian’s personal bubble.

“Hi, Adrian, I have a tiny teensy little problem.”

Adrian swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He closed his eyes tightly, then went back to looking at me.

“What is it?”

“I think Midas is going after Clare’s purse.”

He mutters, grumbling to himself about situational awareness and needing to relax.

The thought that Midas could somehow break or rip into Clare’s bag was shaking my resolve. I tried to get closer to Adrian, lifting myself up to put me about eye level with his stomach to beg for his help. Although I wasn’t sure what exactly Adrian would be able to offer. I just felt better when Adrian was around.

“Adrian, please.” I whimpered.

He put one of his hands over my face and pushed me down so I was sitting flat on my arse under the table.

I’d figured Adrian was going to leave me to figure it out alone. Until he slid under the table. It was more difficult for him to fit, considering the length of his limbs.

“I cannot fathom why you are doing Clare any favours,” he fussed, “I want advanced payment.”

“I have like five galleons at best on me right now Pucey.”

Adrian shakes his head, using one of his hands to grab me by the jaw. I felt my stomach erupt with butterflies, and suddenly my hands holding me up on the floor felt very weak.

He tilted my head and leaned in.

He kissed me.

I wondered if the straitlaced kiss would be enough for this ‘advanced payment’ he had gone on about. Until he parts for a second to catch his breath, then upon seeing me in shock with now lightly puffy lips, he uses his free hand to fix the knot at my tie. I realise it isn’t about payment at all.

This is Adrian confessing.

I open and close my mouth without saying anything.

“I wish I was cleverer,” he remarks, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

I started stuttering. My pulse felt like it was going two hundred kilometers an hour. And my line of sight had turned into tunnel vision for Adrian’s lips. And his cupid’s bow.

He shakes his head and leans in again- still holding me by the jaw. His hold had gotten a little looser, but he was still trying to hold me in place.

It’s less innocent the second time he kisses me. More languid and dominating. I’m not sure if I should be kissing back or not. But I do. This was a kind of chaos I quite enjoyed. Not the kind where I get roped in because of Midas, but the kind that comes because of me. Adrian said that he was falling in love with me. Because of me.

I couldn’t tell how much time passed. But eventually Adrian gets his fill.

“Let’s go catch your little bastard Boonsri,” his voice is wrecked around the edges.

I wonder if telling him my lip gloss is all over his mouth is a good move or not. I decide against it when he tugs on my ankle to remind me what the point of getting under the table was.

Secure Midas against the forces of nature that are compelling him to pick off every little diamond on Clare’s pretty purse.

***

Clare was giving me the silent treatment.

I knew that much.

And even with Mia walking in between Clare and I, the ice was still blowing my direction. I shivered, and not because it was January.

Midas was at Gringott’s with my Mum going through a week of trials. Everyday Mum sent a new letter detailing how well Midas had performed. I was still holding out hope.

But even holding onto hope couldn’t neatly resolve whatever was going on between Clare and I.

We pass Adella, and another Hufflepuff in her year. I wave enthusiastically to Adella.

The Hufflepuff reluctantly allows herself to be pulled into a conversation between Adella and I. Mia and Clare waited close by to finish walking to dinner.

I noticed Clare wasn’t looking at me.

Which was impressive, considering we were standing about three feet apart.

Mia glanced between us, clearly trying to pretend she wasn’t observing the most uncomfortable silence in Hogwarts history. I gave Adella a final wave when the conversation ended, and she disappeared down the corridor with her friend. Who ended up opening up to me slightly. I had told her about my own failings at Defense Against the Dark Arts and gave some words of encouragement.

Adella nudged the other girl, proud and assuming I was out of hearing range, “See? Boonsri knows what’s up! We’ll just study harder.”

The two fourth years looped their arms and continued down the hall.

I turned back.

Clare was still staring at the stone floor.

“Clare?” I tilted my head, “Are you still doing the silent treatment?”

Her mouth tightened, “I am not giving you the silent treatment.”

“You haven’t spoken to me since Tuesday.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m giving you the silent treatment.”

I considered this, “Is there another term for intentionally not speaking to someone because you’re upset with them?”

Clare’s eyes flickered up.

“You make everything sound simple.”

I gave a lopsided grin.

“That wasn’t my intention.”

“I know.”

The answer came too quickly.

Mia looked between us. Told us not to wait up, and that she’d meet us at the dinner table. She said she’d save us cinnamon rolls before Cedric Diggory ate all of them. She did not wait for either of us to respond.

I watched her leave, then looked back at Clare. I swallowed hard. Finally spitting my thoughts out into the open.

“Did I do something?”

Her expression shifted. Her bouncy curled hair shifted when she shook her head.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Clare paused though. She continued in a quieter tone of voice, “Actually, no.”

I waited while Clare folded her arms.

“You make it very difficult to be angry with you.”

That was not what I anticipated, feeling my eyes going wide.

“I’m sorry?”

She sighed, “See, that. You immediately apologise.”

“Is that bad?”

“No.” She looked away from me. “That’s the problem.”

I frowned at the ground, digging my foot into the stone, scuffing up my shoes. I needed to reapply lacquer anyway.

“I don’t understand.”

“I know you don’t.” Clare swallowed. “When I first met you, I thought you were pretending.”

I moved my head up, staring at her, “Pretending?”

“To be…” She gestured vaguely. “Like that. All nice.”

The corridor suddenly felt much quieter. I didn’t interrupt at all. Clare seemed to hate that.

“I thought nobody was actually like that. Not all the time. Not when nobody is watching.”

Her fingers picked at the edge of her sleeve, “And then you kept doing it.”

I tilted my head.

“I kept doing what?”

“Being kind.”

The answer was almost annoyed, but I could tell Clare was doing her best not to get mad. She was looking to resolve this. Even if she was still approaching it like kindness was an inconvenience.

“You would help people who didn’t deserve it. You’d give people excuses when they were obviously being awful. You’d smile when people laughed at you.” Her face tightened. “And I hated it.”

My stomach dropped slightly.

Clare shakily exhaled, “Not because you were doing anything wrong. Because it made me feel like I was the only person who noticed how unfair things were.”

Clare looked uncomfortable.

“I don’t like feeling like the bad person.”

The honesty caught me off guard.

I replied, “I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

She gave a humourless laugh. I could see wetness building up in the corners of her eyes.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“People are usually complicated.”

“That is such a Boonsri answer.”

I smiled slightly, “Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment. But you keep giving people room to be better.” The words came out quieter than the others. “And sometimes I didn’t want to be better.”

That made me pause.

“Sometimes it was easier to decide someone deserved it than admit I was being cruel.” She swallowed and her voice started cracking. “I knew you weren’t doing anything wrong. That’s the part I hate the most.”

“I know.” I said. Because I couldn’t understand her perfectly, but I did know how to synthesize what she was saying and put it into something I was willing to practice empathy for. Even if I had been on the receiving end of her bullying for five months.

Clare’s expression softened by a fraction.

“That’s the other thing.”

“What?”

“You actually do listen.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I said the only thing that felt true in the moment, “You really did hurt my feelings.”

“I know.”

“No, I mean…” I looked down at my hands. “I don’t think you meant to hurt me every time. But you did. And sometimes I thought maybe I was imagining it.”

Her jaw tightened.

“You didn’t imagine anything. I knew exactly what I was doing. I knew when I took your essay and announced your grade. I knew when I made comments about your clothes. I knew when I made jokes and waited to see if you’d laugh along.”

Clare looked like she regretted saying it. That was worse. But somehow, it was also better. Because it was honest.

Clare wiped her eyes, “I’m not asking you to forgive me.”

“You aren’t?”

“No.” She looked almost embarrassed. “I don’t think I’ve earned that.”

I studied her face.

The girl who had made me feel small was standing in front of me looking smaller than I had ever seen her.

“I don’t hate you, Clare.” I grabbed her hand. When she looked down at our hands, I swung them back and forth slightly. I continued, with all the softness I would offer anyone who seemed sad, “That doesn’t mean I wasn’t hurt.”

We stood there.

Not as friends or enemies. But a loose third thing. It was settling before our eyes. Neither of us were mind-readers. And I’ll be the first to admit that it takes a lot of courage to confess something. Especially when you realise you can’t control the way the other person will react.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” Clare admitted.

I thought about Adrian. About how he always wanted to solve things immediately. About how sometimes people weren’t problems to solve. They were people.

I chuckle, letting go of her hand, “You could start by not making it worse.”

Her lips twitched, “That’s a ridiculously low bar.”

“I’m starting small.”

For the first time in weeks, Clare almost smiled.

She looked toward the Great Hall.

“Dinner?”

I nodded my head to the entry door, “That’s your attempt at reconciliation?”

“No.”

She started walking.

“It’s my attempt at not standing in a hallway having an emotional conversation with you forever.”

I followed.

Quietly, Clare continued, “Also… your Niffler thing. I don’t actually hate him. He’s annoying and that’s different. He’s also kind of adorable. If I pretend I’m blind.”

“Everyone warms up to him eventually.”

Clare stopped walking and she rolled her eyes at me. And somehow, that was the closest thing to normal we’d been in months.

***

The letter arrived on a Thursday morning.

Which was inconvenient.

Because Thursdays were already difficult.

Midas usually spent Thursdays attempting to reorganize my belongings according to whatever logic existed inside his tiny Niffler brain. This often meant moving my quills, socks, and hair ribbons into a pile underneath my bed. Apparently, my things were more valuable when they were impossible to find.

So when Professor Sprout handed me a letter from my mother, I immediately felt the familiar twist in my stomach.

Adrian noticed.

Of course he did.

He was sitting beside me at the Hufflepuff table, halfway through a cup of tea, and the instant my fingers tightened around the envelope, his eyes moved toward me. He’d started taking his tea with me and Midas once Midas got back from his trial run.

“You’re holding that like it offended you.” Adrian remarks, holding the teacup to his mouth.

I looked down at the parchment.

“It might contain bad news.”

Adrian glanced at the letter, “It’s paper, love, what harm can it do?”

“Paper can be very judgmental.”

His mouth twitched. I wasn’t sure if it was a smile or if he was trying not to laugh. With Adrian, it was sometimes difficult to tell.

He reached toward the envelope, “Do you want me to read it?”

A few months ago, Adrian would have taken the problem from my hands and solved it himself. But now, Adrian got really good at waiting until I asked for help.

I nodded.

He opened the letter carefully with the back end of his silver tea spoon, which he set down on the bench after getting the letter opened.

His eyes scanned across the page.

Then stopped.

I leaned over to Adrian, using my hand to tug his shoulder down more so I could read too.

Adrian looked at me. For once, he seemed to be searching for the right words.

“Is he okay?” I asked, bottom lip quivering.

A small smile appeared on Adrian’s face.

“He’s more than okay. He passed. Midas passed.”

I moved my hand to the back of Adrian’s neck and started playing with the short hairs on his nape.

“Gringotts approved him for Curse-Breaker training.”

The entire world seemed to become quieter. Despite it being breakfast time at Hogwarts.

Midas, who had been sitting beside my plate, immediately started making excited little chirping noises. And then he started wiggling around in a circle, like he was dancing.

“You passed,” I whispered.

Midas climbed onto my robes. He grabbed my sleeve and started tugging.

“I knew you could.”

Adrian watched us.

“What?” I asked, tilting my head back in Adrian’s direction. My hand hadn’t left his hair at all, so it couldn’t have been from lack of touch.

He shook his head.

“You’re doing the face where you’re thinking something and not saying it.”

He looked away.

“I just think you were right about him.”

My free fingers brushed over Midas’s fur.

“I wasn’t sure.”

Adrian raised an eyebrow at me, and he reached over to scratch under Midas’s jaw, “You spent months insisting he could do this.”

“I was hoping.”

His expression softened.

I saw that there was another page in the envelope that Adrian had left on the bench between him and I. One I hadn’t noticed. I dropped my hands from my boys and unfolded the paper.

Adrian leaned closer, “What does it say?”

“They wrote about his behavior.”

Adrian’s pulse jumped, and I could hear it.

I kept reading, “They said he’s unusual.”

Adrian frowned but didn’t seem too sad, “That doesn’t sound bad.”

I knew what it felt like to be called unusual. Sometimes people meant it kindly, like when Adrian said it. Sometimes they didn’t.

Midas had always been unusual. Runt of the litter. But he was a fighter. I knew that regardless of his outcome, or what anyone thought he was worth, he still had intrinsic value that no one could take away from him.

Maybe that was true for everyone. Maybe people weren’t valuable because of what they could do for others. Maybe they were valuable because they existed. Because there were things only they could bring into the world.

It took many Nifflers to build something worthwhile. Maybe people were the same.

I continued with my scanning of the letter, “They said he doesn’t seem motivated by treasure.”

Adrian looked confused.

“What does that mean?”

The next line explained everything, so I just read it aloud.

“‘Midas consistently attempted to return collected objects to a specific individual.’”

The words caught in my throat.

I peeked through the paper at Midas.

The little creature was currently attempting to remove a spoon from Adrian’s side.

Slowly.

Carefully.

Like he believed he was invisible.

Adrian noticed, changed to a strict voice, “Midas.”

Our Niffler froze.

Adrian pointed at him, “No.”

Midas blinked innocently. Then tried to make his eyes go wide and childlike.

I started crying. Adrian immediately looked alarmed, putting a hand on my back and rubbing.

“What happened?”

I shook my head, “He wasn’t stealing. Midas collects things that matter.”

All along Midas wasn’t stealing.

I thought about the hoard under my bed.

The prefect badge. (Adrian had asked for a back-up and started wearing that one instead, letting Midas finally keep the first one. Adrian said it didn’t bother him because the old one had a scratch.)

The Pucey Family ring. (Adrian said he’d been planning to give that to me eventually anyway, I still wasn’t sure what significance that had.)

The pen my father gave me.

The little things.

The things connected to people.

“He doesn’t want treasure. Midas wants memories of people.”

Adrian went quiet, because Adrian understood.

“He collects things from people. Because he loves them.” Adrian was walking through it out loud, Midas seemed very proud that we understood him now, “And Boonsri, that’s a lot like you. You hold out for people, you collect their best parts.”

He was right.

Mia.

My mother.

Professor Sprout.

Clare.

Him.

I collected every moment that proved people cared. Because sometimes I wasn’t sure. But I wanted to hope for the best.

“You’re very annoying.”

His mouth curved.

“So, I’ve heard.”

I took a long while to study Adrian’s face. At the boy who had noticed Clare before I admitted it. The boy who read books about Nifflers. The boy who told me he loved me before I was brave enough to say anything at all.

“Okay. I think I know for sure now.” I said.

Adrian’s expression shifted. Not shock or surprise. More like relief. Adrian Pucey was very good at pretending he didn’t need reassurance. He just wasn’t very good at it.

“I love you,” I said.

Adrian stared at me. Maybe I had said it wrong? Maybe I needed to put it into more eloquent wording for him?

“Good.”

I blinked.

“Good?”

“I’ve been waiting since December. It’s February now, so forgive me if I was getting a little anxious about the whole thing.”

“I’ve been letting you kiss me though?”

“Not the same as you saying it back. Saying I love you is different.”

“Whatever you say Adrian.”

“Can you say it again?” Adrian asked.

“I love you,” I reached to his face and squished his cheek. The dimples showed up exactly like they had been for a while now.

Adrian grabbed the back of my neck and was pulling me in, until our Niffler chirped from his spot perched at the dining table.

Adrian closed his eyes tightly, “Not right now. Please Midas.”

Midas gave a glare of offense in Adrian’s direction.

I picked him up and he curled into my arms.

Adrian rubbed Midas’s stomach, then scratched his back when Midas rolled around.

“You’re supposed to be learning bud. This letter told us you’re capable of changing patterns. Like interrupting. You should work on that next.”

I bumped Adrian gently with my shoulder, “He’s trying.”

I’m pretty sure that counts as enough.

For me? It definitely was.

***

THREE YEARS LATER

Mrs. Pucey had been following me around the house for twenty minutes.

I suspected this was her way of bonding.

It was also slightly terrifying.

I’d been staying over on my days off from work. I was Assistant to the Supervisor of Gringotts’ Niffler program, which meant I spent my days with fifteen Nifflers running amok.

Adrian really liked that I chose to stay over when I could. Even if he was also busy working as a Curse-Breaker at Gringott’s.

He’d taken Midas all over the world, including several interesting tombs in Saudi Arabia and some niche Jungle Temples in Laos. And Adrian always brought Midas back to me, safe and sound. He also brought a lot of money and things. But that doesn’t matter as much.

However, Adrian’s mum was trailing me around. A lot. She had developed a horrible stalking habit revolving around me.

And now she was giving me a monologue about her son. Her son who was also my fiance.

"He thinks about the consequences." Mrs. Pucey started.

I had to set down my book, looking her in the eyes again.

"Mhm." I hummed.

She paused.

"Except when it comes to you."

I stared.

"What?"

Adella, who was sitting in the library with us, smiled.

"If Adrian ever decided he wanted something..."

Mrs. Pucey looked toward the door where Midas was waiting.

"He would plan the entire thing. And then execute it. I assume you are similar to him in that way."

I felt my ears burning up.

“Ma’am- uh- Mrs. Pucey-”

“Mum, Boonsri isn’t going to try and baby-trap Adrian. If anything, Adrian’s been trying to knock her up to lock her into this family before she realises what a git Adrian can be. My bedroom is next to theirs.” Adella shuddered.

I practically melted into the floor. My face felt like it had caught fire, and my ears were taking the worst of it.

Mrs. Pucey frowns at Adella.

Adella corrects herself, slightly, “I meant, if anything, Adrian has been trying to convince her she’s legally obligated to stay in this family because he’s annoying enough to require supervision.” She smirks, “My room is still next to theirs.”

Mrs. Pucey shakes her head, “I think we’ve embarrassed you enough darling, please excuse us for our less than polite behavior.”

“It’s nothing at all. Truly. I mean, that wouldn’t be the first time Adrian’s held me by the face and kissed me.”

Adella’s jaw drops. Mrs. Pucey looks scandalised.

I blink rapidly, “Uh, that is what you were referring to right? You saw Adrian and I in the greenhouse?”

Mrs. Pucey leans back into her chair, fanning herself with a magical gardening booklet. Adella is giving a devilish grin. She was just missing the pitchfork and horned tail.

Okay, so they definitely did not already know about the greenhouse. That’s why I thought Mrs. Pucey had been after me all day. I was wrong though. His mum was just clingy.

She turns around and cups her mouth, “Oh darling Adrian! Where are you? I have some questions for you?!”

Adrian passed by the library, hair wet from a shower. He was wearing a loose cotton shirt, damp at the shoulders, and had a towel over his head. When he sees me, he stops and enters.

He ignored Adella and immediately kissed me on the forehead, then put his hands on my shoulders, “What did I miss?”

Mrs. Pucey and Adella started getting after him at the exact same time. I leaned my back into Adrian, I could feel his laughter in his chest.

At least Adrian was enjoying this.

I looked over to Midas.

His arms were full of Mrs. Pucey’s special earrings.