Chosen~ Snowbaz

Always Come Home

AU Where Simon leaves Watford like the Mage wants him to at the beginning of Carry On~

***

Baz

I throw my bag on my bed and lie down on the floor. It's a little strange, I know, but whenever I get back here after the summer I have to do this—just bask in the homeyness of it. Snow'll be back in our room soon, and I want as much time as possible before we're set at each other's throats again.  

Snow isn't back by dinner. 

I make my way down to the dining hall, glancing around for him, but he's nowhere to be found— nor is anyone else, for that matter, which is strange, since I know I saw people milling around in the courtyard earlier. 

Heads turn as I throw open the dining hall doors. 

This wasn't how I had planned to make an entrance, but oh well. Wellbelove stands up abruptly, lips pursed and brow furrowed, and I ignore her. 

Dev moves his chair over to make room for me. "You're late," he informs me, but he acts as though it's only by a few minutes. 

"Gentlemen," I say, loudly enough for the room to hear, "What have I missed?" and then, more quietly, "And where the fuck is Snow?" 

Niall looks at me in surprise. "Didn't you hear? He left at the beginning of the year. Fellow was here for a day and then disappeared."

"No, you thumping idiot, I did not hear." Niall's a good bloke, if a little thick sometimes. "Seeing as I've been, you know, missing," my voice is barely above a whisper now—I don't want people to know this "for a month and a half." 

"Oh." He says. "Right." 

Dev and I glance at each other and roll our eyes. 

I know it's for the best that Snow is gone—the farther out of my sight, the safer he is—but that doesn't change the pang that erupts in my heart as I see the sour cherry scones on our table. I remember how he would always sneak them up to our room to eat whilst doing homework, and a sad smile flits across my face before I can stop it. Thankfully, none of the boys at the table notice, and I don't think anyone else does either. 

Blimey, am I going soft? 

Conversation is dull, like always, only now I don't have the incentive of staring at Simon bloody Snow all night to get me through it. I'm asked a few questions (none of them about where I've been, thank goodness,) but I don't answer, electing to stare at the wall instead. 

It's almost in a trance that I enter my room—I suppose it's still our room; Snow isn't dead yet, I don't think—that evening. It's dark, and I don't have the energy to move my things, so I flop down on Simon's bed and bury my face in his pillow.

It's not like I have to worry about him finding me. 

Not anymore, now that he's gone. 

It's not until sunlight stings my face through a gap in the curtains that I realize I've fallen asleep. Sitting up abruptly, I catch sight of the clock on the clock on the wall and swear. 

Five minutes until class. 

It's not like I've never had to go without breakfast before, but I had been hoping to begin the day on a full stomach. I need to know where Simon is. 

Snow, I remind myself. Snow, not Simon. 

I need to know where Snow is. 

I'm beginning to remind myself of him, the way he was in fifth year. I could barely get away from him that year, what with him following me around constantly. That was the first time I had realized, the first time I had hoped...