Seventh Year (A SnowBaz fanfic)

Plagued by the same Nightmare (kind of)

Summary: The first two weeks of school are always hard. It's a constant reminder of the loss of the two Lady's of Magick and Simon and Baz just aren't in the mood this year... or any year.

This is a short chapter (SoRrY). I had no idea how this chapter was going to turn out. I started it so many times and none of them seemed right. I like this one the best. Everything will be in full swing after this! Simon's POV is pretty short. I tried new formating b/c i wanted to do indents in my paragrfs >:) Please exuse my typos :)  

xo - IfSnowazWereReal <3

Simon

          I think I'm happy that I'm not the most powerful magician anymore. I am still the Chosen One. I wish I wasn't. I think people have forgotten about the Chosen One and started focusing more on Basilton Grimm-Pitch, because he's the most powerful magician in our realm now. But he has magic one can dream of, not like how mine used to be. Way too overpowering. Flowing out of me when I would have a temper tantrum as a baby. I guess I'm happy to not have all the spotlight. I still am in the spotlight of course. Mages are still curious if the rest of my power will come back. But it's been 9 years since I was getting my powers back, little by little, and I don't think it'll come back. It hasn't been for six years. I don't think it'll start again now.

          Anyways, everyone pays more attention to Baz now; he's from the richest magical family, he smart as fuck, he plays football like a professional, like he should be on Liverpool's team, he's a perfect git, he's technically the Mage's enemy; the Old families. Did I mention he's perfect ad ruthless and a fucking prat.

          He's a complete wanker around me. I knew he would be when I first came to Watford. I knew he was "the enemy" and that I wasn't supposed to be his friend, but part of me wanted to be. Part of me knew it was wrong to hate someone for doing nothing against the magickal law. Part of me wanted to get along with him and not be his enemy. But, of course, that never happened. The day I met Baz, he was glaring at me and he called me an idiot. Such an arse. After that, I knew I wasn't going to be able to mend the cracks in our relationship. Except there aren't cracks. There are fucking ravines, no, not ravines, a canyon, like in America. Our relationship has canyons, and holes and fires. We dug those holes on day one, and he started those fires on day two -- always fire with Baz -- and we started making those canyons on day three. Our hatred towards each other just kept growing and growing, over all these years, especially when we were fifteen. But this year, I just want to ignore him. Living with him is painful enough, and it's not like I'm going to be getting a new roommate. I've got one year left after this, I managed cuts and bruises for six years, so what's a few more?

Baz

          Simon Snow Sailsbury is a fool and is a waste of my time. Although he hasn't been much of a pain in my arse this year, he still is annoyingly fit and I can't do anything to change my gay ass. Oh, how I have tried, and failed to my disappointment. Snow has mostly been ignoring me the past few weeks, and I'm grateful for this. It's one fewer person invading my space. People are constantly asking me questions and getting me to talk about my power, then there is aunt Fiona still trying to figure out how to take the Mage's son out of our way (though most of her plan have been to take the Mage down) (which I am more grateful for -- he's an absolute fuck-up), my father has been pushing me to study more this year and I'm just not up for all this popularity. I wonder if Snow would be getting a paparazzi if he was Most Powerful instead of me. Stupid Snow. Stupid curls. Stupid moles and freckles. Stupid power. Stupid feelings.

          August is always the hardest month of the year for everybody. People are always talking about the two Lady's of Magick tragically dieing, one by vampires and one by a werewolf, both caused by the fucking headmaster. Everywhere I turn someone is talking about my dead mother, or Snow's dead mother, or vampires or werewolves. I want to punch every person who talks about our mums. Simon has been an absolute wreck all week. He was bummed out at the back to school picnic out in the Great Lawn, I know because I was watching... His eyes didn't practically pop out of his head when cook Prichard brought out the roast beef on our first day of classes. I heard that Wellbelove broke up with him two days ago. I walked in and he was crying on his bed. I walked right out once he saw me. It was nearly killing me to not start a fight with him to restore some of his equilibrium this morning. It's never been this bad; usually Bunce or Ebb the goatherd would pull him out of his trance, but I guess it wasn't working this time.

          It broke my heart to see him mourning over his mother's death, and it completely shattered to see him crying over Wellbelove breaking up with him. I can't imagine how he was acting on the twelfth of August. I know what happened that night. Everybody knows. Lucy Sailsbury died of a werewolf attack, and Simon experienced it all. Experienced... he was scratched. He could have died that day if his mother wasn't there to save him. Five year old Simon Snow Sailsbury, watching his mother die, scratched by a werewolf. Only a few people know of his scar. I'm one of them. I'm sure the Coven knows and Ebb as well, and Bunce maybe. My family is probably aware, but it's never something we discuss. I know he gets potions to prevent it from happening but we're all just waiting for the day he becomes one of them. No potion can prevent that from happening. It's been 12 years since the claw pierced his skin to manifest a werewolf adaptation in his blood. He will become a werewolf eventually. Or were-mage. Fuck. A magickal werewolf. What a nightmare. How can I be in love with a nightmare?

          I climb the steps of the tower, knowing Snow will be there. Probably in the shower. I almost fall into our room, that's how tired I am. Snow is slumped in front of his wardrobe with only his dark grey trousers. He startles when I stumble in, grabbing a pair of pajamas. I know he won't sleep in the pajama shirt; he never does, unless it's too cold, even with the window shut. I throw my school bag down and instantly regret it so I pick it back up and set it on my desk chair. I hear Simon snort. I turn to him, glaring.

         "What Snow?" I snarl at him. I'm so done with this day. I just need a hot shower and some rest.

          "Nothing. You just look like you stepped in shite." He's trying not to grin, I can see it and it makes me wobbly. I spin away from him.

          "I think you're mistaken for yourself." I start unpacking my bag, bringing my books and notes out to be reviewed.

          "Fuck you, Baz." He's starting to lose his temper, but I can tell his heart's not in it. I turn back to him and lean against my desk, this is too much turning. I'm getting dizzy.

          "No, Snow, fuck you." Is all I manage to say. It's weak, but I'm tired. He huffs and walks into the bathroom, lightly slamming the door. Nice to know he's fed up a bit.

          When he comes out, his hair is damp and his face is flushed. His pajama pants are on, exposing his slouched shoulders, and his chest, covered in freckles and scattered with moles. His abs are soft looking and I trail my eyes down.... Fuck. I turn away from him, my cheeks warming. I grab my own pajamas and head into the bathroom, turning on the shower to hot. I shower at night, he showers in the morning. We've got the dance worked out. After six years of living together we've learned how to best avoid the other while in the room at the same time.

          I walk out into our room, feeling a warm gust of wind from the window. Snow is in his bed, lying flat on his back. He's not asleep. He won't be for a while. I won't be either. Plagued by the same nightmare (kind of). I know why he'll be up late because I'll be up for the same reason. Fucking Mage.