Before this weekend, Aleks had already wandered here on the day of arrival in London, searching for the Ricci-Armani house. The young Slytherin had noticed that the pavements in Hampstead were much wider than in the rest of London, as if every surface had been stamped with a premium luxury label. Even the asphalt and cobblestones felt less heated under his shoes, though Aleks wasn’t sure if that was just his childish imagination. Aside from this new experience, of course, he wasn’t in West London just for this mission! His mom was visiting an old Serbian friend and thought the trip could be perfectly combined with a visit to Diagon Alley. Since Hampstead was located in the West End of central London, the journey from Diagon Alley to this place was a distance Aleks had labeled nothing but a small “oops-wrong-turn” on a map. Never before had he been this happy about the long leash his mum kept him on. They weren’t exactly close, but the trust rested on the shoulders of a bishop in a church called 'He’ll manage!' What was a little bus ride to West London anyway? With relaxed ease, Aleks strode purposefully over the perfect paving stones of Hampstead. A dark paper bag dangled in his hand, swinging back and forth with every step like a cheerful tune about strolls in rich neighborhoods—the kind Aleks usually never saw in person. Yet a confident expression rested in his bluish-green eyes, settling on his face as if he belonged. The Slytherin briefly surveyed the familiar hip-high wall topped with black metal bars of a Victorian fence. The pointed tips gleamed a warning to trespassers and pigeons alike: no entry without disinfected feathers or an invitation at the gate! “Aiden.” His gaze fixed comfortably on the other student. They’d come together because Aleks had run into him by chance a few days earlier in London. He had explicitly asked him for emotional support delivering a gift. The item shifted around comfortably inside the bag. A grateful warmth tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks again for coming along. This will really only take five minutes. I’ll toss it in, and then we’ll leave.” The sun’s heat clung to Aleks’s skin even without direct rays. They were softened by the luxurious trees lining the road. The oaks stood along both sides like security guards declaring sunlight the enemy of the English Crown. When all at once, Aleks stopped. Without bothering to wait for questions, he turned toward the wall and its fence. “We’re here,” he announced, marking the end of their walk. Aleks leaned forward, swung the bag, and tossed it over the fence. He indeed had picked the word toss deliberately. During its flight, the bag glittered in the beams of light filtering through the branches. No time was wasted. Even before the bag touched the perfectly manicured lawn, Aleks lifted a leg and boosted himself up onto the stone wall. His hands closed around the warmed metal bars of the spear-tipped fence, heat pressing between the boy‘s fingers and palms. In the background, the bag landed. It toppled over and the contents—various small sample bags of different spiced Dorito chips—threatened to spill out. Aleks had brought them especially for snack-hungry Gabriele Ricci-Armani. Who knew what his parents were feeding him here beneath all these wealthy trees? Melancholically, he had pictured the thin, pretty boy sitting around, being served nothing but gold-coated broccoli and lasagna made of gemstones. At least that would explain the aggressive craving for snacks. Worry had taken over his mind, and now here he was, personally delivering surprise snacks! His head turned to peek at his friend. Only the toes held the twelve-year-old balanced on the wall, pressed against the fence like a pathetic Serbian Spiderman. He lifted the right leg toward Aiden. His foot rolled in a beckoning gesture, as if his calm friend was now the sidekick to his budding criminal career. Maybe tossing the gift—and then breaking into a private garden—was more literally tossing than he had wanted Aiden to suspect. “Hurry up, come here—I need your shoulder and your head. You’ve got to help me over before someone sees that bag and calls the cops!” Urgency crept into his voice, though he kept it quiet. Aleks wasn’t entirely comfortable breaking into a classmate’s private garden, but with the bag lying there on the million-dollar lawn, it was too late to back out. His heart jumped with every second, euphorically pressing the gas pedal. Not even the fence’s heat bothered him anymore, nor the many brown strands landing across his eyes.

Interaction: @Aiden Sinclair ──────────── Speech: #84319f 10/7/2025 Blablala-Whale-Song-Singing-Dominance-Asserting

This was discussed with Aiden. No god-modding here.

Aleks was not the kind of person you could make detailed plans with. Too often, his time was caught between his mother’s impulsive decisions, necessary appearances at government offices, and his own mood and energy-swings. Perhaps that was the reason he hadn’t shared anything more precise about this specific plan with Aiden. The risk that his friend from the Slytherin House might refuse to help had felt too significant to the boy. He reasoned it would be foolish to provoke that outcome when he could, in his usual manner, simply share the bare essentials: the place, the time, and a vague idea. So there he stood now, balanced atop the stone wall. Of all places, a shaft of light had settled on his head, warming his crown as if even the devil himself considered this plan ill-advised. It felt as though he had ascended from the underworld solely to place a heated claw upon Aleks’s skull in warning. The Slytherin narrowed his eyes slightly and peered down at his friend. Aiden rolled his eyes. To Aleks, it looked almost like a glimmer of hope, because the beautiful boy could just as easily have decided to walk away. Instead, he remarked, “You know there’s an easy way this could have been avoided,” and stared back. Their gazes met halfway. Aleks’s expression tightened faintly. A pleading expression settled into his features, brows lowered over the blue-green gaze. Who was he supposed to rely on, if not Aiden? In the thin ledger Aleks kept on other people, Aiden was unequivocally his best friend. It wouldn’t have surprised him in the least if the other boy, by sheer coincidence, knew much more about him than his own mother. Even if that knowledge only came from stray conversations before bed or mishaps in class, it was still more personal contact than Aleks had ever managed with anyone else for more than week. His friend kicked the air, appearing contemplative in the face of Aleks’s plea—or at least, this was how Aleks chose to interpret the gesture. Silently, he counted to ten. With every passing second, he wiggled his foot in another coaxing little motion and let his lower lip slide into a pout, until eventually his friend stepped closer. Aleks’s eyebrows lifted, and a small grin followed. Relief loosened his shoulders. As Aiden approached, a flicker of sunlight caught his face for the span of a single blink. The green eyes glinted like jeweled beetles, having an affair with emeralds. A hint of a small sigh slipped from Aleks’s lips. Less from relief, and more from that familiar thought that haunted him at the stupidest times: Of course people liked Aiden! The color of his eyes looked like the green shimmer of the northern lights, kept right beneath tangles of dark curls. Who wouldn‘t want to stare at a natural miracle? Anyway, Aleks forced his attention back to his mission. Later would be a better time to sort out his thoughts and pack them away with all the useless imaginings—together with the ‚what if‘ questions about exams and whatever the future might hold for the Serbian boy. The kind of thoughts that were never worth dwelling on, similar to absurd daydreams. Carefully, Aleks set his foot on Aiden’s shoulder. His toes curled nervously inside his shoe, anxious not to hurt his friend. The second foot followed, with a wary glance at the dark hair below. Somehow, he managed to climb up—whether Aiden steadied him with his hands or Aleks did, by sheer determination and a foot on Aiden‘s head. He couldn’t quite tell, because his gaze wandered and fixed on the steel bars of the fence. The Victorian shapes pressed into his stomach as he hauled himself up. Like a fat and clumsy cat, he wedged a knee between the pointed finials, right onto a horizontal bar. Being up there, suddenly the height appeared much larger than it had from below. Aleks hunched his shoulders. The air tasted as though summer itself had used up all his oxygen and refused to grand him a credit. With a mental shove against his own weight, he hurled and hanged himself over two sharp spikes. For once, regret set in. “Ouch,” he quietly growled. One of the points dug into his belly. “Almost… wait…” he muttered to his own body, announcing he would soon free it from this predicament. Aleks braced himself, then swung both legs over the rest of the fence. It was almost perfect, but somewhere between the swing, the drop, and the letting go part, something caught him. It twisted Aleks halfway around and sent him tumbling not forward as he’d intended, but backward to the luxurious lawn. A tearing, ripping sound had scraped into his ear. Something tugged at the waistband of his trousers, and for one surreal instant, one leg seemed far less affected by gravity—until it, too, came crashing along the rest of his body in freefall. The shoulder hit the ground first. Thankfully the grass was softer than the cheap plastic ones. Hips and legs followed, along with his head and arms. The dull thud, unsurprisingly, had not been part of the plan. Originally he wanted to jump the fence and land on his feet. When Aleks opened his eyes to assess the situation, his head throbbed. Breath escaped sharply through his nose, and his lungs protested the momentary stop. Aleks’s gaze landed first on the culprit behind this inelegant landing: a long tear in his trousers, split from his thigh all the way down to his knee! With a bewildered look, he scrambled to his feet. His heart was pounding so loudly he couldn’t tell whether the other Slytherin was saying anything at all—he was far too caught up in his own thoughts and bewildered assessment. It was, however, easy enough to put two and two together and snap out of it within a second or two. The spikes of the fence must have caught in the fabric and, during the fall, sabotaged his plan for a clean, super heroic landing. Now that Aleks was back on his feet, the full extent of it became clearer. Summer air wrapped itself not only around his thigh but also along the shin of his other leg. The rest of the jeans hung from him like rags, offending him by the sight alone. “…whatever,” he remarked calmly, and without further hesitation decided to rid himself of them altogether. Jeans can be replaced, and who was he to mourn a justified sacrifice? He was wearing black boxer shorts anyway—passable enough for a pair of summer shorts (even with two pockets)—and who was around to see him like this, besides Aiden? With a thoughtful expression, Aleks slipped out of the ruined garment. Only now did the actual sounds around him start to filter back into his head. His friend‘s voice reached him, carrying a calm humor as he remarked that they wouldn’t appreciate any of this more just because Aleks was half-naked! The thought made Aleks smile faintly, a chuckle caught in his throat. The freckles lifted across his cheeks and squinted his eyes. He rolled up what was left of the discarded trousers in his hand and glanced over at Aiden. The sun almost blinded him. What followed next, was completely unexpected. The modern Adonis added to his own remark, a grin curling his lips: “But I do.” What? That had to be a joke! …?… The world stretched out before him as if time itself had frozen. Aleks‘ mouth refused to let go of that soft smile, and his friend's green eyes suddenly looked far too green, far too deep and far too intense in the familiar face. Within seconds, he had to force himself back to his senses—it was obviously just a joke, just catching him off guard from the serious other Slytherin! “…oh, shut up,” he muttered, his voice rough, followed by a laugh that was, admittedly, a little too awkward. The remark shouldn’t have shaken him like this—it was absurd. A flustered expression threatened to slip onto his features. Trying to move on, like a basketball, Aleks lobbed the rolled-up trousers over the fence, aiming purposefully for Aiden’s head. In case he would not dodge, Aleks hoped it could cover those green eyes. He swallowed. The heat rising to his nape. “Here, hold the evidence!”, he called.

Interaction: @Aiden Sinclair ──────────── Speech: #84319f 10/7/2025 Blablala-Whale-Song-Singing-Dominance-Asserting

His friend and partner in crime hadn’t dodged the evidence. Like a tattered flag, it came sailing over the fence and landed perfectly peaceful in Aiden’s hand. To avoid seeing whatever reaction followed in the depths of green eyes, Aleks swiftly turned around. The boy quickly bent slightly forward. He picked up the black bag and, like a shepherd tending his flock, ushered the tiny Dorito sample-bags inside. One after another, they rolled into the dark depths. Their bright colors disappearing into shadow, escaping the sun into the plastic. Afterward, Aleks straightened up and rolled his shoulders in an attempt to disentangle his thoughts from Aiden’s gaze! To his mind, there was sense in dwelling on his best friend‘s eyes. Calling upon fate itself, the gremlin shaped tyran must hate Aleks. Thus the chance seemed far too high, any ideas could lead to losing the other Slytherin‘s trust. There was one thing Aleks knew he could bear much more difficult than his mother‘s annoyed eyes—it was losing Aiden. Washing images off his mind, Aleks took a deep breath and then started across the manicured lawn. With each step toward the front porch, he tried to reclaim his usual confidence. If only the ground didn‘t feel this unnaturally soft beneath the worn soles of his shoes. Like even the dirt in this place was determined to remind him that every square inch of this place cost more than his entire childhood bedroom. Combined with his glorious piggy bank Mr.Coin-Coffin. The bare, freckled knees and flustered state did nothing to ease the feelings either..! With his ears still prickling—now in addition flushed thanks to Aiden—the thought of being misplaced sank its teeth into him. Like a dog, the topic of money growled and threatened to devour him whole. Not the cute dachshund kind but the big guard dogs who bark too loud to walk passed some fences. It slowed his steps with every breath, until his mouth felt uncomfortably dry and the porch too pretty to step on. Standing there, he suddenly wished Aiden had climbed over the fence with him,. Despite the lingering embarassment he‘d rather have him close. Yet, Aleks heart bristled at the thought of letting problems from home reach their hand so far into his actual life to block his vision of a succesful mission! Aleks exhaled sharply. Warm summer air fled his nose, carrying with it a portion of those unbearable feelings. What could a perfectly painted house of marble and wood really do to him, anyway? Rapunzel had lived in an enchanting tower—and look how that turned out for her: miserable. A more critical look settled over the blue eyes that just moments before had seemed adrift into the mentally dark alleys he rather not visit. Aleks took in the objects scattered about, the handsome windows, the spotless glass. Something blinking—like a trapped red glowing worm—hung in one corner, whatever that was. Plants adorned the garden, climbing up near the walls, and a handle that could not be opened from the outside nestled flush against the door. Even the stupid iron was impeccable polished. The uneasy feeling shifted at the sight. The image of Gabriele living in some Rapunzel tower seized his imagination, hand in hand with the gremlin-tyrant called :Fate. The Tower and the deity of injustice giggled right into the Slytherin‘s face, huming and singing as they dance in circles about judgemental adults and their stupid ideas of value. Gabriele must be starving in there! Now propelled by a hint of sweet resentment, Aleks took the final steps onto the concrete path and up to the house’s porch. Let the pale stone get dirty, for all he cared. The boy kept the black plastic bag clutched firmly in his fingers until, after a few more seconds, he reached the door. There, he hung the bag like a gift from the some Serbian Santa Claus, garbage shaped. It almost wanted slip from the handle‘s flat base, but Aleks pressed it firmly against the edge until it held—more or less until Gabriele could find it. At first glance, it probably looked like a trash bag the family had forgotten to carry out to the bins. Did they even have such things in houses like this? Maybe they forced house elves to eat their garbage? It wouldn‘t suprise him. The question furrowed his young brow. Once more and briefly, he studied the swollen belly of his offering. Inside were enough Chip packs to keep Gabriele alive for at least two weeks, along with a small card explaining he hoped he wouldn’t starve before they met again. Even as he was still stoking his private little flame of disdain toward the family, an ominous thought crept into his mind: They could open the door any second!? Gabriele wouldn’t have bothered him at all—but the parents were another story! They would surely look down on him, hand the bag over to some house-elf for disposal, and then corner him with questions. He could already picture them interviewing him coldly, giving him conditions wrapped in polite contempt. If he failed to meet them, they’d probably forbid Gabriele from ever saying hello to him again, then starve the petite boy to death and not invite Aleks to the funeral! Away. He just needed to be away—quickly, before they come outside. Then all is fine, once he‘s beside Aiden—in unjudgemental safety! Aleks spun around and began retreating at a pace twice as fast as he’d approached. The fear that they might open the door right now and catch him in nothing but boxers, old shoes and Sweater, sprinting across their absurdly expensive lawn was enough to drain all the flush from his ears! In its place, a pale cast crept over his lips. He actually looked genuinely rattled for once. By the time he reached the fence minutes and Aiden minutes later, the heat had spread in a clammy- summerly layer across his bare legs. “Okay, now we just need to get the hell away from here,” he announced, casting a quick, hunted look around. Of all things his gaze fell on a nearby area with umbrella and a sunbathing bench. In his state of childish panic for an unrealistic fear, the umbrella looked awfully inviting. Like a gentlemen whose shoulder was ready to be stomped on! Aleks muttered something in Serbian that suspiciously sounded like perfect and stalked along the fence to the spot that seemed closest to fulfilling his escape fantasies! It took him only two seconds—just to their left. There, he planted his foot on the wall exactly as before and heaved himself up against the iron bars. The metal felt even hotter now, though he couldn’t be sure if it actually was. Maybe it was his growing discomfort making everything worse and the victorian ornaments the branding iron of the devil? Frustration bubbled under his skin as he forced his eyes to keep off of Aiden. The whole situation was already pathetic enough without letting it show on his face how badly he’d failed to think this through. The Boy braced one foot against the edge of the folded patio umbrella. It gave him just enough purchase to lever his hips back up onto the victorian spikes. “Don’t tear, don’t tear, please…” he muttered, squeezing his eyes in desperation. After the fiasco with his pants, the very last thing he needed was to lose his boxers, too! Aleks did his best not to let the points of the iron press into the fabric at all, carefully balancing to keep his weight off the cotton. Too busy handling himself his ears turned numb. Then something cracked. A metallic creak scraped under his foot and gave away! Aleks threw his head back, instinctively shifting his weight forward onto his shoulders to catch a peek at the disaster about to happen. The umbrella had slipped free of its stand and was now tipping in slow motion to the side. “Oh sh—” he started to swear, eyes widening. As he felt how the new angle sucked the control right out of his body like a vampire with a PhD in physics. Suddenly ,his balance gone. Aleks pitched forward over the fence—back to the safer side— or at least where Aiden was. In freefall he caught a last glimpse of the umbrella following suit like a choregraphic sync jump to dive into shame. It clatterered down in a metallic crash, right into a vase. Who the hell has a vase in the Garden?!

Interaction: @Aiden Sinclair ──────────── Speech: #84319f 10/7/2025 Blablala-Whale-Song-Singing-Dominance-Asserting

Accompanied by the sharp crash of a shattering vase, the fall played out like a movie tragedy. As the heavy thud of the umbrella hit the ground beside him, Aleks mentally braced himself for his skull to soon crash on the pavement. With no control left, his body twisted mid-air. the torso was pitching forward, aiming to land first. He squeezed his blue eyes shut. The sun's heat flashed down on him uncomfortably, as if casting a spotlight over his failure and inviting the entire United Kingdom to watch. Just before he mentally readied for death, the Slytherin let out a squeaking sound—something between a gasp and the yelp of a scared cat. But what he landed on wasn’t hard ground. It wasn’t the sun-baked roughness of concrete or the scratch of old pavement. Instead, st was surprisingly soft. Bouncy even like a comfortable matress. Of course, his first instinct was that some adult must have seen them, him in particular, and decided to save the Serbian Spiderman with a well-timed spell! But this wishful fantasy quickly dissolved when Aleks registered the sound of a very human grunt beneath him. Mattresses didn’t make noises like that. As objects they at most could imitate a fart and creak. With Aleks‘ head resting against something soft his arms were curled between himself and the unexpected warmth. His legs were tangled in chaotic disarray with someone else’s when the freckled Slytherin pushed himself upright. Mentally, Aleks didn’t have to jump through any hurdles to read the situation. He found himself sitting directly on Aiden’s stomach—using his best friend as a human (comfortable) seat—and blinked down in startled realization. His head still swayed slightly from the fall, but the seriousness of the moment settled fast. Aiden was lying beneath him, as warm as ever in his familiar heat, but his eyes were staring blankly up at the sky like a sedated dog about to be neutered! The blood drained from Aleks’ face, exposing the faint freckles which usually hid across his upper lip. Panic flared, catching in his lungs and accelerating his breath. “Aiden?! Are you alive?” the blue eyed boy asked, though he wasn’t entirely sure hi sfriend could even hear him with that glazed stare! His best friend croaked in a tone Aleks could only interpret as strained: "If you're trying to kill me... I think you might have succeeded." Normally, a comment like that would’ve made him laugh, but Aiden looked anything but fine. Aleks leaned forward, shifting part of his weight off the boy’s body and placed his hands firmly on either side of his friend’s defined cheeks. With clear worry etched into Aleks‘ features, he brushed the long strands of hair away from his allies‘ face and carefully tilted his head left, then right, trying to get a better look at the back of it. He didn’t see any blood. Or at least not enough to qualify as a proper head wound, the kind that might turn the cobbled luxury street into a crime scene or a red renovation project. Aleks wasn’t the type to handle someone with velvet gloves—especially not someone he knew could survive on their own. With no serious injuries in sight, the color returned to his lips, masking the freckles that had peeked out for a moment or two. A small grin crept back in on his features. “You’re not dying,” Aleks reiterated. “Just a little bump. Thanks for the body sacrifice. That was the spirit~..” The Slytherin let out a soft chuckle from deep in his throat, brushing Aiden’s soft hair back behind each ear before giving him a playful pat on the left cheek. He hoped it‘d pump some life force back into his head. “Come on, let’s go before someone actually calls the cops.” With that announcement, Aleks finally rolled off Aiden’s body. The rough asphalt scraped against his bare knees harder than he’d admit, making him double as much glad Aiden had absorbed the worst of the fall. Aleks pushed himself swiftly to his feet, took a deep breath, and reached down to pull his best friend back up.

Interaction: @Aiden Sinclair ──────────── Speech: #84319f 10/7/2025 Blablala-Whale-Song-Singing-Dominance-Asserting

Once Aiden was finally back on his feet, Aleks studied his face. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it or if his friend had actually taken on the color of a marshmallow—pale like that squishy texture and yet exactly the kind of thing one was oddly glad to find in a snack drawer! Still, it was worrying to look at… Concern furrowed Aleks’s brow—until an arm suddenly slipped around his shoulders. “Wait”, Aiden said. He could feel the weight as his friend leaned into his body. The green-eyed boy reminded him, all at once, of a crumbling sandcastle, and Aleks reacted on instinct—protective and without missing a single beat to overthinking. He slid one arm under Aiden’s and wrapped it around his back, placing his hand gently along the far side of his friend‘s ribcage. The freckled boy could feel Aiden’s breathing rise and fall beneath his palm, the ribs stretching slightly under the pressure, with the warmth of his tanned skin radiating through the shirt. For once, Aleks didn’t mind the additional warmth, despite the sun having tormented him for hours with its oppressive heat. “Shh, it’s okay, we’ll wait. No one’s coming anyway,” Aleks hushed, a small smile hidden in his voice. Realistically, the entire British artillery could come stomping around the corner and he’d still hold Aiden upright, stay calm, and swear the world was whole and safe. He would wait with him for hours if needed. Somehow, Aleks knew he would figure it out, as he always did. His friend leaned in closer. Aleks could feel the soft hair brushing against his jaw and neck, where the disheveled boy rested his forehead in the crook of it. One stray curl seemed to have wandered just near enough to graze his chin. Heat crept into Aleks’s cheeks, a faint flush blooming across the freckles like the quiet onset of a fever. Not because he was embarrassed—why would he be ? It was just Aiden! But, unfortunately, because he had to admit—he liked the closeness. Lost in thought, Aleks lifted his free other hand and brushed the stray curl back to join the rest of its soft siblings at the neck. His fingers combed gently through the hair, tracing lightly along the back of Aiden‘s head. Aleks had no idea how much time passed while they stood there. Probably just a minute before his friend stirred. He lowered his arm. With more serious eyes than usual, the Slytherin observed the color of Aiden‘s lips. Still not their usual tint..., he thought. But Aiden decided, “Okay, let’s get the fuck out of here”, and who was Aleks to say no to that decision? The cheeky, headstrong grin unfurled back across his face, sweeping away the last trace of flushed skin. As if the solemn calm and seriousness had never existed, it was chased off and back into the place where it liked to cuddle up with adult problems. Somewhere deep between heart, head and the Serbian nickname Saša. “As fast as we can manage!” he added, snatching up the pants Aiden must’ve dropped and setting off at a brisk pace next to his friend. It didn’t surprise him that the pants caused trouble once he got to the place he and his mother stayed in London at. Sure, she could fix them with magic in a second, but the reason they’d torn bothered her—even without knowing the full story. His thoughts stayed with Aiden the whole night, looping back to the feeling of soft hair lingering between his fingers. At least it was a welcome distraction from the endless flood of Serbian scolding: “Saša, you’re going to drive me insane,” and her lovingly exasperated, “I love you so much, but you really don’t make it easy for me to do that. You have to be easier, at least try for once!” What was he supposed to say or defend himself with? He just hoped Aiden didn’t feel the same. Closed

Interaction: @Aiden Sinclair ──────────── Speech: #84319f 10/7/2025 Blablala-Whale-Song-Singing-Dominance-Asserting