From the Ashes

Who: Mikey and Spencer
Where: Mikey's room
When: (Backdated to) Saturday night
What: :(

The drink(s) with William at Hogsmeade had been good, especially as they'd made an unspoken, conscious decision to stay on cheerier topics of conversation (which had, okay, involved a somewhat intense theoretical discussion about the nature of sentient plants and their strengths in certain divination spells, but at least it wasn't about people dying). He'd made a conscious decision to go to dinner, despite still being a little bit tipsy, and surrounding himself with good conversation and the laughter of the students had been good, too.

It was perfectly alright, he told himself, to go back to the greenhouses that night a little later than usual, sitting up in the staffroom and half-listening to a 'friendly' argument over the Scrabble game, wandering the halls to keep an eye out for kids breaking curfew, even if that wasn't exactly one of his responsibilities. He sent a few wayward Slytherins back to the dungeons with the promise of siccing Gabe on them if they didn't go to bed right now, and, finally running out of excuses, let himself quietly out of the castle to walk through the cold air back to his greenhouse.

He made it maybe halfway across the lawn before he realised he was shaking from much more than the cold, and before he could think properly about what he was doing or whether it was creepy or inappropriate or just lame as fuck, he turned back to the castle and walked quickly back inside and through the corridors, a fast, stumbling pace. He took the stairs two at a time, swearing under his breath when one set moved and sent him on an unexpected detour, until he was finally standing outside Mikey Way's door.

There was light shining from under the door. Spencer drew in a breath and knocked.