Welcome Home, Birthday Boy pv Nikolai finished

Due to the persistent fear born from his white seeker he hadn't even considered the ambush that lay waiting for him in the comfort of his dormitory. Hans and he had come miles since their previous year but it hadn't even occurred to Nikolai that he would know about his birthday. It wasn't like Nik ever celebrated, if anything he was more recluse than ever when it came around each year.

That was exactly the kind of friend Hans was though, he didn't give in half measures and so the surprise was no one's incompetence but his own. The issue that had always plagued him was that Nikolai was wracked with enough nerves to crumble even the most confident of individual and so racing back to his door the thought hadn't even occurred to him. They were nerves that most people might have called anxiety but Volkov's weren't allowed to suffer such weaknesses and thus as always when his hand shut the door on the world he fought to breathe through the panic.

Nikolai had just enough time to pull his heavy head off of the door to notice he was not alone in their dormitory. Strange to think that less than a year ago Hans' presence would be little more than an inconvenience and now all but a look from those melting eyes soothed his entire heart. Maybe a little too much if he was being truthful but reality wasn't that simple. Painting on the face he had mastered from childhood he smiled at the boy who never failed to surprise. To say that the hike was an opportunity would be to claim that one was ever able to argue with the brazen Hans and anyone that knew him knew well enough arguing was a fool's errand.

Somehow the boy who had only truly become a friend and quickly family months ago knew him more than he did himself. With his mind a chaotic storm of anxious energy he felt the breathe of fresh air would be exactly the medicine required. Mask fading into a true smile of sincerity as his nickname taunted him he grabbed a sweater from his desk and caught the brunettes eye leading him away. Taken back to a moment not long ago where they lay drowned from rain across from one another hands over his own heart he stopped breathing. In his head it felt like a lifetime but in reality it was mere seconds.

Shaking off the memory that held a permanent footing in his mind he laughed reaching for his record player with a quizzical look on his face and asked, "Are you going to tell me why I need this or is that against the rules?" Despite his questioning Nikolai didn't wait a second to follow the boys lead and walked towards the door. Surprises brought anxiety but the confidence Hans projected was overwhelmingly catching and in his presence he always found himself emboldened.

As they exited the room together he turned back with a menacing quirk of his eyebrow and doing his best to look down on the boy who was clearly taller and larger than him said, "Oh and it is my birthday I think you'll find it's 'Your Royal Highness, Eisprinz'. Don't feel you have to bow but it is customary." Hans may have created and dawned the joke on the blonde but he would be damned if he didn't use it to his own advantage when the moments presented themself.

Watching with a curious eye on the bag Hans had packed he couldn't decipher what he had brought but couldn't help but blush slightly at the mundanity of his plan. Hiking on foot despite Hans' proclivity for flying made the moment more special, like the journey was just as much a part of the gift as whatever he was so clearly hiding in his bag. Heart fluttering against Nikolai's deepest wills he begged himself not to get too excited, the last thing he needed was more memories that replayed behind shut eyelids.

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

‘Oh Nikolai,' Hans chided as if his peer was merely a small, clueless child asking why the sky was blue, but his voice was void of condescension as he returned the jubilant laugh, 'Do you understand the meaning of a surprise?'

Cunning of Nikolai - though Hans had not expected anything less from the smooth-tongued fox - to have turned to jest around to his advantage. Rolling his eyes in defeat, Hans accepted the new title with a teasing laugh. He then bowed in obvious mockery, a hand extended to assist the haughty little princeling as he said, 'Alright, your royal highness, your carriage is waiting.' When they stepped outside, he added, 'Maybe I should carry you if you find this ground too filthy to tread upon,' just for good measure. As they exited the dormitories to the rolling fields of Durmstrang, Hans' gaze flickered to a summit across a crowd of students at leisure, marking their distant destination. Returning his attention to Nikolai with a smile as if they owned the world, he playfully prodded the boy in the shoulder and said, not bothering to conceal a snigger, 'You make for such an endearing brat, you know that?'

Having grown up in a city as bustling as Germany's capital, one might think, Hans, accustomed to such a hectic lifestyle, would find a school nestled in God-knows-where-Scandinavia more than a retreat. Yet after two years, the Institute was no less than what he grew up with, very much still the social cliques and popularity games. Such an existence was tireless, yet no one had been fearless enough to raise the discussion against it. Thankfully though, the surrounding area of never-ending undisturbed scenery had proven itself to be an idyllic environment and source for relaxation.

This particular solace was one he often derived from flying, that sole, persevering dream of Muggles, to seek freedom from the restraining ground. With the autumn breeze tousling his hair and stinging his eyes, with nothing but the wind whistling in his ears, the horizon in his sight, and the whole world below him, his own thoughts came forward on an unfiltered torrent of clarity. In the ever-unfolding skies, there were no nagging parents, no gossiping classmates, where even his own insistence of upholding a guise of careless pleasure faded into the blearing background. Being in nature, feeling so alone and somehow so small, whether in the skies or earth, never ceased to cleanse his mind.

Such an experience was one he was ready to share. So while his peers might have been confounded seeing Hans prefer jagged rocks over cushioned mattresses, it was exactly the price of liberty away from suffocation. A hike might have been no broom ride, but considering his manoeuvring skills, it was best not for him to take on passengers. …And? He would admit an activity as mundane jostled some long-awaiting memories from his pre-Durmstrang childhood, days he could not fathom why he still wanted anything to do with. When he found himself on the receiving end of the question, all his unsuspecting mind could reply to with was, obnoxiously simply, “why not?”

Right. His nostalgia could piss him off another day. As students petered out into small clusters and lone figures, the castle, formidable as it always was, left behind them, Hans started the conversation with a devilish wink, 'So, how was your day, your most royal highness? Didn't get beaten up in the Dark Arts I hope.' After all, the future of their play pretend kingdom couldn't go around in defeat, now could he?

@Matthew Campbell as Nikolai Vol’ka

"The meaning I am perfectly capable of understanding, its the necessity I take issue with." A bright smile lighting his face, Nikolai gently shoulder barged the taller boy jovially. Really, despite the fuss he couldn't express how much lighter he felt in the knowledge that people wanted to spend time with him and celebrate his life. A life that very much could have remained lost in the shadow forever but now bustled with possibility and brightened because of individuals such as Jenssen. That light filtered into laughter as he watched Hans' viciously mocking bow and, playing on the bit, took the offered hand and stepped out into the halls after seriously considering pushing him over for his crimes.

Eyebrow quirking in taunt he couldn't resist the pull of smirk his lips took with Hans next words, "So you find me endearing, well this is a birthday to remember. I've never heard you so emotional." There was a peacefulness to their laughter. How little time had passed since they were ghosts to each other and now as the expanse of the beautiful Scandinavian scenery expanded in every direction around them Nikolai couldn't help but revel in it. It was his first birthday without his family but in a far truer way it was his first birthday with a real family. Wandering under the glittering sunlight that filtered through the trees the world took on a dreamlike quality and despite the steep terrain his legs never tired. Nothing about this moment could prove tiresome.

In that great expanse with the students of Durmstrang left in their dust there was a quiet energy that even when broken by the roguish conversation of his brother still remained. Out in the wilderness there was nothing but themselves and the silence of the world. Likely a good thing given the dangerous nature of the surrounding grounds of Durmstrang but given the fearless nature of the duo they wouldn't worry for that regardless. Receiving the devilish wink he considered what to tell Hans, would he bring up the issues he was having surrounding the subject, would Hans even understand? From their growing friendship one thing had become abundantly clear Hans wanted magic more than anything, its value to him surpassed everything else, certainly surpassed their friendship. Or so Nik assumed at least.

His families past wasn't something he wished to divulge into in great depths but still it weighed on him like an impossible burden. Reluctantly he had informed Valentin who was now hell bent on protecting him and so it seemed unwise to place that pressure on his young dormmate. It was a burden he had to bear alone. Sometimes the thought was nothing more than a buzz in his head but other times it consumed his every second and rattled against his mind unwaveringly. Would my life be better without magic? Today, however, was not a time for such thoughts and so burying it down he rolled his eyes as an initial response to the question before continuing letting snarky humour flavour his tone.

"Unfortunately I continue to excel 'above and beyond, a true prodigy'" he said, the sullen expression creeping onto his face until he shifted to mock their Dark Arts professor. "I might have left my family but it seems some gifts of genetics are hereditary whether you want them or not. Do you ever wonder what your life would be like if you were born to another family?" The question had caught even Nikolai off guard who had lost himself to the train of thought but he watched Hans anyways to witness the boys reaction. Family was a subject they, and by they he entirely meant Hans, tended to avoid talking about so before time allowed an awkward tension to fill the crisp autumn air he quickly followed up with a forced nonchalance saying, "Sorry I'm rambling ignore me, how was your day?"

Quirking his head he watched as Hans climbed with a clear sense of skill at the activity. Of the two the younger Durm was clearly superior in athletics that paired alongside his taller stature gave him an advantage in both the social and athletic circles of the school. Hans had always been popular since their first day while Nikolai hid, blossoming on the side lines as a wallflower. The attention never made him jealous, there was a great many benefits to remaining invisible but the ease in which Hans navigated the world and his confidence had often been envied by the blonde. With time they had learned far more about each other though and now he saw the façade his brother wore around those people. Little moments had happened in their friendship where he showed the truth behind the bravado and this was shaping up to be one of them.

Jogging slightly to catch up with his longer strides Nik's electric eyes sparkled in the sunlight as he spoke, "Hey Hansel have you done this before? You seem like a natural, is this where you and Gretel found the witch? Or was it with Astrid" A mischievous grin played on his face as he nimbly got out of dodge for whatever aggression Hans was sure to throw his way. Nikolai may have not be attracted to girls but he certainly wasn't blind to them and he was almost certain his roommate had fallen to the charm of the particularly sweet seeker.

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

Returning Nikolai's eye roll as he replied in his signature snarky fashion, Hans didn't have the time to retaliate as his following question caught them both by surprise. Yes, by all means yes, for his parents had often felt more like a hurdle or obstacle rather than pillars of support. They were frustrations he had kept between himself and his grandpa, for he had never thought anyone would be as understanding of how deeply it irked him. He had been evading most talk of family for a simple, straightforward enough reason: it brought him no enjoyment nor meaning, and he would be better off spending his breath somewhere else.

‘Sorry I'm rambling ignore me, how was your day?’

‘No don't change the subject you coward,’ Hans chided in mock chastising, but his mind was elsewhere in that moment. Part of him wondered if he should have followed in Nikolai’s U-turn around the topic, but another yearned to talk about it after years of steering the conversation away from familial talk. His brother hadn’t been rambling, but they might as well should break the tension surrounding the issue once and for all. ‘Yes. Sometimes I think about the opportunities I would have had if my mother followed in the path my grandfather had laid out for her.’ Hans scowled and continued, ‘Or just being privileged in general, you know? Generational wealth and all that, like the little heirs this school is full of.’ Already living comfortably enough, he would not complain, but the notion was satisfying to contemplate. ‘And,’ he considered, ‘If I was born without magic into a Muggle family, would I be happy? Mundanity is something I cannot stand but then again I would have never known more.’ He paused and swallowed, with a final addition of what he felt necessary, ‘But I am grateful for the family I have, both by biological and chosen.’ Hans wondered what prompted Nikolai to ask such a question in a so out of the blue manner, but he had to keep his thoughts to himself for the boy had an infinite supply of tricks up his sleeve.

Cheeks reddening at Nikolai’s jab, he said through the laughter, ‘Oh get lost already!’ He aimed a hit towards the obnoxious little princeling - who just so happened to be nimble too and managed to evade it. ‘I’ll hazard a guess that you’re that old hag eating up children, Nikolai,’ he continued, trying not to miss the beat in their game of teases. Pausing in search of words as he allowed his jesting smile to fade into a bittersweet one, he started, ‘No, I just…’ If Hans had been responding to anyone else, he would have trailed off and offered them a lie from the language of pretend he was so fluent in, but not to Nikolai when it felt like something to undermine their brotherhood. He paused, scanning the horizon line as if searching for the familiar mountain rises of Berlin. Hans cleared his throat and clarified, ‘You explore when your parents work odd hours and care more about paperwork than they do their kids. I just happened to have done it a lot with my old friends.’ Those were such careless days, when the things he valued had not been as grand. He knew how big the world was, but had been young enough to believe he was bigger.

Wiling away in nostalgia wasn’t a pastime Hans particularly enjoyed, so now came his turn to change the subject. ‘Anyway, my day. I’ve been feeling excited, after all, your terrible taste could always use some new introduction to media. You've ever listened to those indie folksongs from the 2010s?’

@Matthew Campbell as Nikolai Vol'ka

The higher the climb the more the views took Nikolai's breath away. There was something about the reward of a climb that always took away every ounce of strain and discomfort the actual climb brought. Up here nothing felt impossible and the world both felt infinitesimally small and immeasurably large. It meant more than words could express to do this with his brother and clearly Hans was feeling similarly as for the first time in their friendship a topic consistently avoided by the athlete had broken, in an act of trust that would not go unforgotten for even a moment. Nikolai felt it was sweet that this deep into their friendship Hans still retained the audacity to believe he could open up so greatly and then simply move on especially after calling him out for trying to change the subject himself.

Grabbing the brunette by the arm he yanked him tightly into a hug that despite knowing was likely to leave him with a gut punch would be all the most worth it. All around them the world seemed to slow as warmth radiated from the two of them blocking out the harsh chill of the air Nikolai lingered a second before speaking. Watching as a pair of snow buntings playfully danced around the air with one another before perching on a still snow touched branch he felt every breath between them until their rhythms aligned to beat as one. "Thank you for sharing that with me. I know you hate sentimentality but I'm grateful for you too!" It would have been all but too easy to play on the bait Hans had left calling him a hag but Nikolai of all people knew the difficulty family could conjure and in sharing his past Hans allowed a glimpse at his story. For despite a persons present being the only thing worthy of judgement, their past told the journey of how they made it their. A journey Nikolai wanted to know every step of.

Gently unfurling his fingers from Hans arms he allowed the boy to do whatever he needed in order to shake off the emotional baggage. Having only hugged a handful of times and usually in situations with a great deal more tears, at least on Nikolai's end, this one felt different. The ice prince knew he was playing a dangerous game as he softly quelled the fluttering in his heart biting down on his inner lip. Negating any remaining tension he smirked incredulously, "Now please tell me what the hell is an indie and why are they singing folksongs in the year 2010? And as for my terrible taste I'll give you that, after all, of the hundreds of choices in Durmstrang I chose you... you of all people as my brother. Utterly ridiculous of me, whatever will my parents think!"

By this point jokes about his ex-family had become all too familiar to his mouth and while it should have brought him pain it truly couldn't. Not only did they have absolutely zero right to make him feel bad but in just a year they had become second place to the most magnificent family he could have ever wished upon. A pair of brothers that had imbued him with second life. Hastily picking up the pace attempting to manoeuvre out of whatever Hans reaction was he let out a raucous laugh, a testament to the abundance of joy his brother had brought to his life and the love shared between them.

Melting into the embrace that had caught him by surprise, Hans tightly clasped his arms around Nikolai as if there was nothing more in the world. With Nikolai’s heartbeats against his chest, the snow-topped scenery shimmered and evanesced around them, leaving their steady intertwined rhythm. What would not come with the bitter aftertaste Nikolai had excepted, only watching the boy as the moment was captured in silence. If only said silence was enough to quiet how his words rallied Hans’ heart. Nikolai was not wrong to think he hated sentimentality, merely wrong to believe he was not above his so-called hatred. In fact, all his life amongst the people he hesitated to label as friends, he had only asked for one person who would stop and listen that he could be sentimental with. Now blessed with his brother, he could not possibly think of anyone more suited to open his heart to. Allowing Nikolai to gently pull away from him, the brunet thought the time to be barely enough but his response was a mere smile back.

That moment it would have been all too easy for him to reply with a joke of the similar nature to fill the chirping backdrop of birds. Perhaps he used to have his qualms against brining the conversation into waters too deep, but always staying within the shallow end of the pool had never been a fate he was willing to accept. Now invigorated enough to dive headfirst into the murky depths, he was more eager than ever, for what awaited him was no ghastly demise but new exploration. Hearing what he had already known reinforced still made his heart gush, even if it came adorned with a jest. His taste being bad or not he could not care, but Nikolai’s words were correct nonetheless. Out of the hundreds of choices at Durmstrang, the duo had chosen each other. They could both opt to gloss over a fact so magical with their sass and jabs, but his was a friendship like none other before and one he had always yearned for. So with a smile playing at his lips he replied with complete earnestness, “Well if you say so, Nikolai. But I think I have proven my tastes no less than perfect by choosing you, you little devil.”

Anyway… there they were. Nearing a ridge overlooking the fjords westward, he gave the blond a wink and explained, “Indie is slang for independent, probably not by a big artist or something. I wasn’t really expecting you to understand it, it’s pop culture after all, and I have learnt you have zero exposure to that.” Eyes gleaming as he turned away from the Institute and towards the breathtaking view, the setting sun shines just above the Scandinavian river, the valley below sitting illuminated in a red gold shine; he felt as if he owned the world. Pointing to a rock enveloped by the light, he gesticulated dramatically, “My prince, please may I present: your Highness’ Throne. And before we get to the main event, this tradition is absolutely mandatory.” Setting his bag onto the ground, he retrieved the cupcake and unwrapped it to find that it was miraculously still in tact (thanks, magic). Pulling out a lighter from his pocket - yes, they were doing this the traditional way because incendios were overrated, he sunk the candle into the cake’s icing and lit it. Singing the all too familiar tune: “С днём рождения тебя,

С днём рождения тебя,

С днём рождения,
милый Николай, 

С днём рождения тебя!¹

“Blow out the candle and make a wish, Nikolai.”

1: (Russian translation of the birthday song)

@Matthew Campbell as Nikolai Vol'ka

There was something so sweet about Hans reaction that spoke so highly of how far they had come it was hard to not blush, yet Nikolai hoped it would be hidden by the labouring climb. Sometimes in moments such as these Nikolai wondered how he had been able to foster such devoted profound connections when his old family had found it so easy to abandon him. There was still plenty of self doubt in the young Russian but with every notion that these chosen few had wanted him he felt a rush of warmth overcome him. Sufferingly he fought the urge to grab the other boy into yet another hug but he didn't wish to push his luck at least not yet.

Pointedly glaring at his very own half blood professor he scathed, "Well perhaps if my non-magi pop culture teacher focused less on early morning pranks and more on exposing his student to culture I would be further along!" In truth Nikolai was indebted with just how much Hans had taught him of the wider world in their short friendship, he had delivered him into a whole new perspective that Nikolai used to only access in literature. Climbing the last few steps they found themselves side by side watching as the burning golden hues blanketed gently over the fjords and beyond.

Following Hans' finger he laid eyes upon the rock where the suns delicate touch illuminated the precipice in glowing grace. Undoubtedly this trip had been worth every harsh incline and every heavy breath. From the company, to the conversation, to the scenery every aspect had been nothing short of perfection. Returning his eyes to his expedition leader he found him pulling a cupcake out of his bag and placing a candle atop lit the cake with a lighter. Despite the efficiency of magic there was something even more special about doing it all without. Every second had been planned with meticulous attention to detail and Nikolai's heart was full of nothing but the purest of love when he was finally asked to make a wish.

If Hans' singing had been the gift then it was the best he had ever received. How many birthdays the young Russian had spent entirely alone, how many years he never received a birthday cake, he must have heard the song a million times in his life but never once directed towards himself. Fresh starts meant firsts shared with the best family he could have asked for and despite how the rest of the world seemingly wished for attention on anniversaries there was something far more intimate in sharing it alone. Nikolai was quite sure there wasn't another soul he would rather share such a moment with.

Now staring into Hans eyes and following round to take in the magnitude of beauty that surrounded them Nik pondered over his wish. Surely for most boys his age there were many things he could ask for, but as silly as it sounded with how little he had Nikolai was nothing but content. Then again perhaps that was the entire point. Closing his eyes slowly he took in a deep crisp mountain breath and releasing it he watched as the flame flickered out in a whisp of smoke fading off in the brisk wind towards the sunset. Taking along with it his wish, a wish for a lifetime of memories like this one. "Done! Split it with me?" he said, gesturing towards the confectionary.

However Hans decided to proceed his fellow brother would then point towards the dedicated throne and with a beaming smile he let his tone take on the familiar taunt, "Now I suppose we should get to my throne before we miss the sunset. Really a prince such as myself should request a piggyback but I don't think you could handle it."Smirking with the jest he elbowed Hans in the shoulder gently. If his wish came true he would be the luckiest boy in the world, for he was quite sure memories like this would live in his heart forever.

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen | Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros

You don't love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear. -- Oscar Wilde

Eyes still kept keenly on the boy before him, inevitably though briefly he wondered what Nikolai had wished for, for it seemed to Hans that he had all the world could offer. Youth, opportunity, and the damn perfection of the whole hike - God they had it all. If he could wish for anything it would just be to freeze this moment in time and relive it on a loop. Not wanting to jinx the wish though, he batted the thoughts away, simply grinning at Nikolai and nodding his agreement. Splitting the cake in half with his hands, Hans bit down on his half. Although magic must have done the best to spice it up, it would be far too much of exaggeration to say it tasted good, but he had long known how petty it was to dwell over such material things. How could he focus on things so trivial when he had been shown all the colours of life in just the last few months? Cliché as he felt it may be - though cliché in the sweetest, most comforting Christmas film way - it was this new memory shared between them that was the true crème de la crème.

Smirking as Nikolai returned to their familiar teasing, Hans responded with a sarcastic sweep of a bow. “Not exactly a piggyback ride but your wish is my command,” he said grandly, making a show out of it as he lifted the elder boy less than a bare foot above the ground and plopped him down gently, yes very gently, onto the Eisprinz’s throne.

“You know,” Hans started devoid of the previous taunting, suddenly and wistfully as his hands strummed at a phantom instrument, “I would like to play the guitar someday.” Another dream out of the many Valentin had described, another dream constrained by restrictions so seemingly petty - and choice it seemed, sacrifices would be made. Taking a deep breath, more, as he would convince himself, to steady his respiration for the whistling to come rather than to forget the thoughts crossing his mind uninvited, he continued, “But here we go with the original song because no way I’m doing this a cappella.” The record now snugly fit into the hold (or whatever it was called), he reached over and pressed play on the device. Pursing his lips and trying to follow along, his skills failed him as then resulted laughter at his own inability to keep himself from straying off tune. The second try heeded with more success but soon vocals began that was the end of his “talent” very much hidden for a reason.

“Alabama, Arkansas,
I do love my ma and pa,
Not the way that I do love you.”

Pausing to shoot a smile towards the birthday boy as he finished the first verse, his fingers tapped along as the rhythm came to him word by word. While he had never been to Alabama nor Arkansas - nor care much for the silent “s” for that matter, the lyrics had always resonated with him in much deeper ways than what would be gleaned from some music analysis seminar. Just then Hans wanted to give Nikolai a thorough “class” on a subject miles apart from pop culture, but the tempo, impatient as it was, refused to wait for his tardy hesitancy.

“-me oh my,
You’re the apple of my eye,
Boy, I’ve never loved one like you.

Man oh man you’re my best friend,
I scream it to the nothingness,
There ain’t nothing that I need.”

With the stretch of quite frankly, nothingness extending out in front of them for as far as they eye could see, no other words could have better illustrated the moment. The fjord facing away from the confines of Durmstrang, all the talk and chatter of the Institute washed away except for the chirping of stray snow birds. Looking out into the distance with a wistful gaze not particularly landing on anything, Hans felt an odd, indescribable whimsy settle over him. A shot of deja vu with a strong nostalgia, delivered with the ever pressing question of: where had you been all those twelve years before I met you? With Nikolai everything seemed so undisturbed and at peace, and Hans could have been content with him as his whole world. How easy it was to forget all that had troubled him over the summer. How easy it was to let go of every burden with only one breath of mountain air. How easy it was to melt into this existence with nothing but each other’s delightful company.

“Well hot and heavy pumpkin pie,
Chocolate candy Jesus Christ,
Ain’t nothing please me more than you.

Oh, home, let me come home
Home is wherever I'm with you
Oh, home, let me come home
Home is wherever I'm with you
Take me home
Mother, I'm coming home.”

In for a penny, in for a pound, as the newly reborn Nikolai had said months ago. If he had been in for a pound then, Hans should have been something of a billionaire by now. Five months was a short time to have come so far from their cold beginnings, but five months was gladly enough for him to drop the things he once thought important and follow in his righteous footsteps. So virtuous - say for his taunting of course, for that he was getting no compliments - despite how his upbringing seemed to shun the very notion of goodness, surely any path this proclaimed prince went down would be the most just, and surely Hans would follow him in a heartbeat. After all, darkness would have failed to claim anyone when there existed a light so bright it was blinding. Despite how the following lyrics would perfectly correspond to his musings like a fist in a glove, he would be greeted with only irony merely a month later.

“I’ll follow you through the park,
Through the jungle through the dark
Boy I’ve never loved one like you.

Moats and boats and waterfalls,
Alleyways and payphone calls,
I’ve been everywhere with you.”

Well... payphone calls are still a completely new concept Nikolai needed to be introduced to, but the truth shone clear as day: they were bound, even if it meant to ends of the damn world.

And with that came his two favourite verses: “We laugh until we think we’ll die,
Barefoot on a summer’s night,
Nothing new is sweeter than with you.

And in the streets we run a-free,
Like it’s only you and me,
Geez you’re something to see.”

So there was a greatness he was destined to inherit, that overconfident boy whose reply to Valentin had been so intent on swallowing the sun whole. Naïve, rushing into the trouble he thought his salvation with his damned hero complex, all he had every yearned for was an escape from the mundane and the final, well-deserved renown. Brave to a point of recklessness, scarcely disguised by a a masquerade of goodnatured nonchalance: he was proud to know valour was in his blood, and come some day valour would be his. The hero has a thousand faces, and he had known one of them was surely his.

And after all that faux time, faux dedication, faux love, could he simply say so off-handedly that could not give a shit about all that effort spent anymore? Freedom was a word Hans used too easily, and freedom he had defined as this escape away from his parents and his humdrum routine. Durmstrang, with all its shine and grandeur, had originally merely been as a means to a world he had never known but was desperate to acquaint himself with. He was too blinded by the shine of opportunity to realise then that a wave of a stick would not be the solution to his problems, for this perceived paradise had just been as suffocating as his sour life pre-Institute, just another environment for him to adapt into, just another standard for him to fix himself upon. Did whatever deity who designed this sick society deserve praise for creating a prison he didn’t even know he was in? Only a fool would have called all his ambition freedom.

There was a reason the lyrics only spoke of such quotidian occurrences: laughing, summer nights, running down the streets. This was enough, so much more than enough. Why be merely a hero when one could be a friend? What good were they anyway, if they only exist to break hearts and die martyrs? Perhaps it had taken Hans too long for him to realise Nikolai was all he ever wished for, but then again how could he when he had met no one like him before? Wherever the gap in his heart lied, it was not yearning for the flick of a wand but company, for that meant so much more than mastering the skills he could have obsessed over. Every laugh shared was a miracle beyond what the Bible held, every tear shed was as much a blessing as it was pain. It was bewildering at first how he, the high flying Icarus, was settling for the exact mundanities he had so desperately yearned to shed, but he would grow to understand himself. Learning to be content with the here and now, favoured with love, was the greatest hurdle of them all, and like any hurdle it had been overcome.

“Oh, home, let me come home
Home is wherever I'm with you
Oh, home, let me come home
Home is wherever I'm with you
Take me home
Mother, I'm coming home.”

Turning to Nikolai with a beaming smile, broad and open as the flowing waters below, the duo singers began to talk, he wondered what story he would be telling come a few years. Would it be the blur of lights from the Mistletoe Spin with its garish decor still unparalleled compared to Nikolai’s sass and honesty? Or would it be the pelting rain of the moments afterwards with the tears, the laughter, the prideful declarations of love. Such earnest defining moments; someone should start a TV show titled “How I Met your Uncle Nik” to document it all. Regarding those sky blue eyes that reflected the distant sun, no one else would have been a more perfect audience member and that went beyond his naturally attentive nature. Above there always seeming to be a silent understanding between Hans and Nikolai, the truth was they had only been speaking a language made only for each other to understand.

“Home, let me come home,
Home is wherever I’m with you,
Home, let me come home,
Home is when I’m alone with you.”

Then, out of place and wholly uninvited, he realised what time must have attempted to erase. It had came to him in a split second as the song slowed towards the end. When, where, why, how, were blurred, but who clung on to his memories. It was Christoph and Erica, the twins he could only now claim to have once been friends with, who introduced him to the song, years before, and for much of those years it had been forgotten. There was something eyeopening in how the memories had come and gone. And ultimately, what would be staying among the ever-churning ocean of time? Friendship, brotherhood, love was not a thing so easily understood. But then again, friendship, brotherhood, love was still things he would gladly pour his soul into experiencing. So why focus on the past when the present seemed so unbelievably perfect, Hans chastised himself. Oh God, everything was so unbelievably perfect.

“Home, let me come home,
Home is wherever I’m with you.
Oh home, yes I am home,
Home is when I’m alone with you.

Alabama Arkansas,
I do love my ma and pa,
Moats and boats and waterfalls,
Alleyways and payphone calls.

Home is when I’m alone with you.”

At home, it had been reinforced so many times within the song, but this was the first for Hans to realise he had words to describe what drew him into this love. It was no longer and had never been the definition of a location but more so an indescribable warmness. Feeling so comfortable in his skin, being able to show himself rather than some poorly rendered, colour drained version of himself. Away from the hustle of Durmstrang, enveloped in nature and more so his brother’s company, he had no one to be but himself, crowing with such ecstasy. His smile was constantly on show for everyone, but his tears was what no peer but Nikolai had seen. He had provided Hans with everything he ever wanted, and there was nothing more to ask for when such a magical word commanded its presence. At home, so he could share any joy or delight. At home, so he could let go of any burden or trouble. At home, loved. Home - the word he could have said a billion more times and still would not have it lose its meaning.

“Home is when I’m alone with you.”

Finishing the song as he repeated the final line once more, Hans drew out the syllables with eyes cast straight into Nikolai’s. Tone blissful and tinted with pride after strumming the last note on his phantom guitar, Hans said, “Well, that was fun, wasn't it? I think I deserve some applause.” Pausing expectantly, he continued with earnestness welling in his voice, “I hope this one is the best yet but may it be a toast to many more.” Slinging a hand over Nikolai’s shoulder, Hans drew the newly thirteen year old close to his side. Head nestled in the crook of Nikolai’s neck, it was as if he had finally found the puzzle piece lost to time, and there they sat basking under the red gold sunlight.

“Happy thirteenth birthday, Nikolai. I love you.”

@Matthew Campbell as Nikolai Vol'ka, props to you for reading through all my rambling

To say that the cake was stale was potentially a grievous insult to the entire baking community and certainly no house elf within a thousand mile radius would have allowed such quality but to say that the cake was perfect was entirely accurate. More and more as Nikolai spent time with Hans and lived the simple purities of life he found that very little mattered more than the warm sensation that flooded through his chest and stomach fluttering like butterflies adrift on a gentle summer wind. It was the physical manifestation of comfort and peace which although were new to the boy had become all too common in the last few months and he couldn't have been happier for it.

The hike had already been such a tremendous day but it seemed that his best friend Hans would not be satisfied until he had blown every other potential competitor out the water. It was as if a best day was not an acceptable measure in the Germans mind, no today had to reach new heights in not just a literal sense but metaphorically. Today was a dedication that despite the pain of Nikolai's past this was the kind of experiences he deserved and boy was his roomie nailing it. If he was honest it was nothing like he had ever felt, like for once he alone mattered in the world.

A uproarious laugher that erupted from the boy as he was picked up by his compatriot echoed down the mountain side scattering birds from trees and filling the air with the lightest essence of bliss. It was no secret that Hans worked out most in the sports teams trained rigorously but his eyes still bulged slightly watching the ease in which he carefully placed him down. Like he was something precious, like he mattered. Unlike every other year Nikolai really wondered if this year he did. In fact he was almost certain of it when the boy shared with him a dream so openly it startled him. Not long ago they barely shared space and now his mind catalogued every one of his dormmates interests, passions and hopes to put them to use another day.

Eyes adamantly focused on his friend as he strummed into the air like some kind of ghostly musician he couldn't help but wear the fullest smile he possessed. Up here with the backdrop of nature's grace and one of his closest companions, his brother, he truly couldn't be happier. At least that would be what the poor naive boy thought before a record was procured and placed delicately under the spindle so gently as not to scratch. "no way I’m doing this a cappella.” The words were so baffling for a moment Nikolai wondered if the boy had naturally switched to German and lost him in conversation. Surely thee Hans Jenssen, mr popular incarnate, mr can't make a literary analysis to save his life, mr athlete was not about to sing to him properly. Happy birthday was one thing but this was an entirely different level and those darn flutters couldn't help but travel to his heart.

Every word, though granted some of them were completely lost on the ex pureblood, was like liquid light. They spilled from the boys lips with such a rhythmic soothing quality he wondered how long the boy had kept such a secret. Hans Jenssen was many things and potentially most notably, he was always full of surprises. His brother's talents never ceased to dazzle him and this would be no difference only this time it wasn't simply the skill he possessed that kept Nikolai rapt in every syllable. For beyond the words themselves it was the story he was so masterfully painting with them that truly absorbed his attention gravitating it solely on Hans. Home had become such a complicated word and on days like today when he had heard nothing from them the song resolved the burden. Before today Nikolai had been abandoned shunned from his home, a physical place. Yet now, it became far more clear of the truth. Home wasn't a building, it wasn't a place at all, it was a feeling and in those chocolate brown eyes he melted away into it.

Hans handsome face was made complete with a smile that grew with each verse and his voice blended perfectly with the recorded duo though they paled in comparison to his version. The emotion he laced in each line held Nikolai in that trance until the song ended and his friend added one last final time while silence resettled around them the record fading out. While the words faded from his tongue the stare held between them was endless and spoke a million words while saying nothing at all. Each moment like this solidified a bond in them that seemed completely unbreakable and somehow he knew it was, there wasn't anything in the world that could break them now.

Not a fraction of a second passed between the ask for an applause and Nikolai's hands meeting in rapturous thunder booming out to the world screaming with them of his pride and blessing to have bore witness. He could hardly resist when his mind begged to scream out, "That ladies and gentleman and... mountains was my best friend. Hans Jenssen selling tickets now." While the comment was a jest it was as earnest as the ones received in return. Settling in as Hans rested his head on him and held him close they sat as golden red hues bathed them in dimming sunlight. Felt themselves be renewed under its soft glow. The moment was catalogued like few others as one of the times Nikolai Volka truly felt loved. Not superficially but completely, all-encompassing, unconditional love and it made his heart soar high above.

Resting his own head atop the others he spoke quietly as if afraid that someone would hear him despite them being entirely alone. Yet the meaning would be understood by the younger boy, these words weren't meant for anyone but him, not even the world was owed them. "If every birthday was like this my wish really would come true. Love you too Hans, from now and forever, that's a promise." Backlit by the radiance of sunset Nikolai hoped more than he ever had that of all his wishes and promises that this one would come true.

@Archer Duncan as Hans Jenssen