Witches | Bench Trio Hogwarts AU

4 | Caelum

Tommy disliked Ranboo. He tried to make that very clear to him, too. The first time he met Ranboo, Tubbo had introduced him by saying he was Tommy's replacement. It was obviously a joke, but it without a doubt played a role in his dislike for the boy.

He had no clue what had just happened, but Tommy knew he didn't have a reason to care. If Ranboo was upset with him, the feeling was mutual.

But the look in the boys eyes, the way it made his stomach drop-

...

No. 

He was just nervous about losing his best friend to some dumb Ravenclaw. Thats all.

Not that that was going to happen. If it ever really came down to it, Tubbo would choose him. Obviously. They'd known each other way longer.

Tommy was snapped out of his thoughts when he arrived At the entrance to the great hall. He stopped for a moment, a pang of anxiety rushing through him for a split second before he continued through the arched wooden doorway and into the massive expanse.

Four long tables were lined up in a row, filled with hundreds of young witches and covered with mountains of different types of food. Lined against the back of the room was a fifth table, raised slightly above the rest. At it was sat the staff; the majority where tucking into their food the same as any student - but some would stare down at the kids instead, carefully analysing everything they saw.

Or at the very least, that was what professor blade was doing.

Sunlight poured in from the replica-sky ceiling, flooding the room with its vibrance as both students and teachers sat with their peers and faculty, talking and laughing together.

Tommy sat down at the end of the Gryffindor table, pushing what he had previously been thinking about out of his mind as he awkwardly tried to join in a conversation with a group of rowdy fourth years.

'Uh- hey... guys...'

***

Of all the classes the school could have put the first years on directly after lunch, flying seemed like the worst option. But here they were, in the massive green field, surrounded by mammoth, brightly coloured stands on all sides, mud and rain drenching everyones cloaks. 

Tommy was by far the best quidditch player in the class, made very obvious by the fact that he was the only person in their year who played for a house team.

'Alright, everybody split down the middle. Either side of my hand is its own team.'

Ranboo trudged in the opposite direction of Tommy and Tubbo, his shoes suctioning slightly in the mud, pondering how the lesson hadn't been called off as a flash lighting hit the forest nearby.

Their teacher, Professor Watson, muttered numbers to himself as he gestured towards each student, counting the teams.

'Eleven and Thirteen. Tommy, could you please switch sides.'

Ranboo watched nervously as Tommy slowly walked towards his team. 

Something was off with the boy. The way he carried himself, so slowly, so precise. The unreadability in the way he conducted himself drove Ranboo's overthinking mind insane - he couldn't tell if Tommy was furious, devastated, or perfectly fine.

After taking his place on the other side of their team, Tommy looked up at Ranboo, tearing into his soul with the same blank expression.

He must've been staring.

Shit.

'Amongst yourselves, split into groups of six and decide which one will go first.'

Ranboo turned in to face his team of eleven other players. The grouping was always pretty predictable. The better, or at the very least louder players - most often of the Gryffindor house - would put themselves together in the first team, leaving the less impressive, quieter kids together in the second.

It wasn't a very good strategy, but it was a consistent one. And Ranboo, being one of the worser players in the year, would typically be benched until the second game.

'Team one's me, Gray, you twats-'

He had expected that all. What he hadn't expected, however, was for one of the loud, quidditch-prodigy Gryffindors to place him in the first team.

'-And Ranboo.'

Least of all did he expect said loud, quidditch-prodigy Gryffindor to be, of all people, Tommy.

'Wait wh-'

'-Do you even know my name?'

It was the mop haired kid - the one that had saved him in transfig. He was one of the three who fell under Tommy's category of 'you twats'.

Tommy, paused, scrunching his eyebrows in confusion. He appeared to be racking his brain for a piece information that wasn't there.

'Um...'

The boy stared up at him, a spark of rage flickering in his eyes. Tommy just smirked.

'Yeah, whatever, salmon kid. You can play next game, if you really want.'

A couple of kids snickered - a tribute to their painfully lacking sense of humour.

The Slytherin's fingers curled into tight fists by his sides, his stance deathly still. He was still staring at Tommy, looking fully prepared to punch him in the face. The whole team had gone silent, anticipating what was about to happen.

'Uh- Isn't- isn't it- ... Boffy?'

Sometimes Ranboo wished he was better at talking.

The kid nodded slowly, his eyes still locked on Tommy's.

'Yeah, sorry about this, Tommy's just been a bit of a prick lately. It's okay, I can assure you - it's nothing out of the ordinary.'

And sometimes Ranboo wished he was better at shutting the fuck up.

***

Tommy was a very impulsive person.

It was so sudden, he didn't even realise what he was doing. That is, at least, until he saw Ranboo falling back into the mud, struggling to recover his wits as blood dripped from his nose.

The rest of the class had gathered around to watch the scene play out.

Boffy was shouting at him, but he couldn't make out the words. Nor could he discern those of his Professor, not through the bucketing rain. 

Lightning stuck in the distance, quickly followed by a sound loud enough to shatter glass, leaving a violent ringing in his ears. Everything was so loud, he couldn't hear a thing.

His eyes met Tubbo's. confused, terrified, and angry.

The boys lips moved slightly, as if to produce a whisper;

'... Tommy?'