epilogue ➺ ducks on a trip

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「 DUCKS ON A TRIP 」

THEO TOOK A SMALL SIP of his tea and immediately spat it out.

He cursed himself. The tea wasn't that bad. But after having drunk Blaise's tea for months, he has developed in him a certain standard for beverages that could never be met no matter how much he tried. So went the tea down the drain.

Theo has never had to cook at home - Fowley has done everything herself. Their first few weeks at their new flat were spent with Blaise teaching him to cook. He was proud of how quickly he has learned and he was proud of the perfect sunny side ups he could now make. But when it came to tea or coffee, Theo was happy to leave the duty to Blaise.

He placed the teacup back in the cupboard and extracted a jar of biscuits. Theo has learned that nightmares were very energy consuming - he always woke with a parched throat and an aching stomach after a nightmare. He had to resort to just water to satisfy his thirst for now but Blaise has filled up the shelves with various snacks for him in case he found himself hungry in the middle of the night - which had turned out to be more frequent than he would have liked.

Munching on a biscuit, Theo went to stand by the window, waiting for the sun to rise. For once, he had succeeded in not waking Blaise from his sleep. Last night was relatively mild - he was being haunted by the ghostly face of Alecto Carrow which appeared everywhere he went. It would have been terrifying for Theo once upon a time, but after having seen Daphne's cold, lifeless face multiple times in his sleep, he would welcome that of Alecto Carrow any day.

Theo had just finished a biscuit when colour began to seep into the indigo sky. The kitchen didn't face the East so he was unable to see the sun, but he enjoyed watching it nonetheless. When the lights finally settled in the sky and cast a warm glow into the kitchen, he heard footsteps behind him. A second later, a pair of skinny arms snaked around his waist.

"How long have you been awake?" Blaise mumbled into his neck.

"Half an hour." It was a lie. Theo has been in the kitchen for two hours at least. He nuzzled up against Blaise. "Will you make me some tea?" he asked before Blaise could try to argue with him.

Blaise nodded and laid a kettle of water on the stove. Theo brought out a pan to fry eggs. Thus ensued a few minutes of a delicious sizzling sound and the popping of the water in the kettle. "You've packed our bags, haven't you?" Theo asked.

"Yes, but you can check to see if I've missed anything."

"That's okay. I trust you."

It was the day of their trip. After Corben had gone back to Hogwarts and they returned from the memorial, Theo and Blaise sat down to confirm that they really were going on a trip and to decide where to go. They'd tried not to overthink it. The destination wasn't what was important. Their primary purpose, at least to Theo, was to give Blaise a change of scenery and to get him away from all things familiar. They decided on Brazil.

Their next step was to pay a visit to the Ministry and get permission for a portkey. They had to sign a lot of papers and a few hours later, it was done. On the 28th of September - today - at precisely ten in the morning, the empty wine bottle in their cupboard would activate into a portkey and when touched, would take them directly to the Brazilian Ministry of Magic where they would have to sign even more papers.

Signing documents aside, Theo was quite looking forward to the trip. He didn't particularly care about what they would see there and what places they would visit. He did borrow a tourism guideline magazine from one of their muggle neighbours which had opened their eyes to the vast world of tourism. The magazine instructed them to do things they had never imagined doing, such as purchasing weather-appropriate attire and shoes suitable for walking or climbing steep slopes. Had Theo not had the idea to talk to his neighbour about the upcoming trip, they would have gone straight to Brazil with voluminous jackets and jumpers, and shoes they've been wearing for five years.

laconic • t.nott ✓Where stories live. Discover now