His | (Hers 0.25) ✔

02| Hoppipolla

0 2 

H o p p i p o l l a 

(v.) jumping into puddles.

  ●●●  

That's the thing about pain, 

it demands to be felt.

  – John Green, The Fault in Our Stars 

   ●●●   

Aaron was talking too much again.

"And then Dumbledore gave Gryffindor like an extra fifty points just before the results were announced and even Neville Longbottom – remember him Damien? The kid who messed up in the beginning – he even got points for just being brave and it was so exciting – but really surprising at the same time – but it was so fun and Harry was so happy –"

Damien couldn't even understand half of what Aaron was blabbering about, but with the sparkle in his eyes and the magic on his lips, Damien didn't have the heart to tell Aaron to shut up this time.

The younger boy was rereading Harry Potter, and Aaron thought it was appropriate to tell Damien the whole story for the fourth time.

"Who's your faourite?" Damien was now lying on his back, his feet propped up against the headboard of his bed. He knew that his father would absolutely detest his current position, but Damien knew he was probably in a meeting right now.

Aaron became quiet, his eyebrows furrowed. "I think Neville," he said, a small smile on his lips, "Neville is my favourite."

"Really?" Damien said, quirking an eyebrow at his younger brother. "I thought you were going to say Harry,"

Aaron just shrugged. "I can understand Neville more than Harry,"

Damien didn't tell Aaron that he stayed up all night reading that book to find out why.

●●●

Neville Longbottom became Damien's favourite character too.

Even though Aaron transitioned from Neville to Ron to Fred to Blaise to Lupin, Damien always stuck to Neville. There was just something about Neville that Damien was so attached to, and though he had no idea why, it just felt right.

He never told Aaron that he read all seven books in four days and he never told Aaron that he stayed up until five in the morning just to finish watching the movies.

He never told Aaron that he fell in love with the characters that were folded in between pages and kissed with ink; sown with imperfections and relatable in every way, Damien didn't have the heart to tell Aaron that he loved those books probably as much as he did.

Maybe it was because reading was only Aaron's thing, that it was a hobby that belonged only to Aaron. Damien didn't want to pry in it, and he never found the courage to tell Aaron that he secretly had a Gryffindor scarf tucked in the bottom of his closest.

Aaron's spoon was clinging against his cereal bowl. "Do you think we can see James again?" he asked Damien quietly, chewing on his soggy cereal.

"Yeah sure," Damien replied, shrugging. "I don't see why not."

The spoon was trembling in Aaron's fingers. "You think father will get mad?"

Damien gritted his teeth. "Father isn't here Aaron, they're away for the weekend,"