what doesn't kill you mutates and tries again | theo

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Everything's crashing
but it's fantastic

September 14, 2028
Theodore Marcus Flint

Ozzy liked escaping to the Quidditch pitch, even if the season hadn’t started for the students. The anticipation weighed on all of them. As he ignored the open Charms book in his lap, he scanned from goal post to goal post, like he was looking at the pitch for the first time. Practices would begin the following month, and the trick was to avoid detention on those very important days. It wasn’t that Ozzy purposefully sought out detention, it just happened. At least, that’s what he told his sisters. They still knew people around the school who would whisper his progress now and then to one or the other, especially since Charlie worked nearby in Hogsmeade.

Soon, he told himself. Inside his textbook, Ozzy instead re-read a graphic novel that was far more interesting than fifth-year charms. For the life of him, he could not make his brain focus during class or on the homework. Besides, it wasn’t due until Monday, and it was only Thursday, after all. Plenty of time to figure it out later. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a familiar figure. One that he hadn’t seen all day. ”Didn’t I tell you yesterday there’s a height limit to get in here now?” Ozzy slammed his textbook closed and stuffed it into his bag. Standing up, he brushed off any grass that might have stuck to his school trousers. ”Where have you been all day?” Once upon a time, Theodore Nott stood a head taller than Ozzy, but as they’d quickly discovered, that had changed as the boys neared the same height.

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[Theodore Marcus Flint]

a fine young galahad.

IT WAS COLD AS FUCKING BALLS AND THEO cursed every single rock in Ozzy's brain that demanded he orbit the Quidditch grounds rain, hail or snow. He lugged the burlap sack over one shoulder, ambling across the pitch like some kind of homeless wretch. Ozzy wasn't particularly hard to find, but he was a finnicky lad at times. An odd spot visible from a great distance, often in his Quidditch colours, and sitting with... what looked like a textbook in his lap. Theo despaired.

"Awright, give the 'Elbow' and inch, it'll take a mile." Theo shouted back with a stretched grin. His face was flushed from the cold, September air and his shoes were dull with dirt from the grass. He looked as if he had been up to something, which naturally he had. Ozzy was a good lad, if single-minded, but he sure let that couple inches he'd shot up over summer weight heavy on their friendship and Theo made sure he paid for it in kind. 

Closing the space between them, Theo didn't answer and instead, swung the burlap sack from around his shoulder and sent it swinging with great force into Ozzy's unguarded crotch. It snapped hard against him and landed in a heap on the ground, revealing inside the very obvious collection of Quidditch gear in a very particular shade of blue and yellow. Theo played Quidditch because it meant he could hang about on a broom twice a week, hitting things and dodging balls for fun. He picked on the Ravenclaw team because Ozzy was his mate, and Tilly was hot enough and talented enough that it warranted a tentative protection. That left the Claws to their mercy.

"We've got Quidditch gear to deface, my friend." He grinned maniacally, bending down to lift up a tester helmet he'd played around with in the empty locker room while he'd been on his secret mission. Across the front of it, Theo had managed to charm a very crude illustration of a lion with an eagle in its maw with the words 'riddle me this, bitch' dancing on a scroll right around the helmets circumference. "It's a prototype, of course." 

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Everything's crashing
but it's fantastic

September 14, 2028
Theodore Marcus Flint

Ozzy frowned, rolling his eyes as well. ”Shut up.” He still remembered the shock and awe at finding out his initials spelled out a word. And when Ozzy asked his mother about the matter, she had merely said that was his name when they adopted him. Why couldn’t they have just named him after a day of the week like his sister? Or some ordinary name like ‘John Smith’? No, Ozzy’s initials spelled out fucking ELBOW, and Theo hadn’t let him live it down since his second year.

As he approached his longtime friend, Ozzy was unprepared for the bag of junk Theo carried to swing and hit him…well, in his junk. Without hesitation, Ozzy keeled over onto his knees as all the air escaped his lungs, clutching his middle as he fought the sudden nausea. ”Sonofa—“ It wasn’t like Ozzy didn’t conveniently find a globe to send flying into Theo’s lap during Charm’s practice every chance he got. Merlin, this was a battle that would never end. After his heart rate settled, Ozzy remained kneeling as his eyes scanned the gear on the ground.

”You’re an annoying git, you know that?” The gear was clearly blue—Ravenclaw. Theo would have never gone for Gryffindor’s gear, as Ozzy would have left Slytherin’s alone. Ozzy might have suggested Hufflepuff, but there wasn’t anyone he was particularly close to in Ravenclaw. ”Nice.” Ozzy nodded approvingly at the helmet Theo held proudly. ”We have to get a snake and badger in there, too, or they’ll blame my team for it.” He pointed out. Ozzy wanted to avoid detention, or his sister would never get him in to meet those Quidditch Stars at Witch TV.

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[Theodore Marcus Flint]

a fine young galahad.

THEO BARKED A SATISFIED LAUGH AS OZZY collapsed onto his knees from the force of the bag. His expression flushing immediately as he cursed. He didn't feel a shred of sympathy, no more than an involuntary twinge of empathy at the pain he likely felt. "Look who's taller now, eh?" Theo crowed smugly, edging out of reach as Ozzy inspected the gear from his position on the ground, and Theo held up his first attempt.

He made no comment about how annoying he was, because it was a given at this point. Plus, he'd come bearing gifts. It gave him leeway to cause a little bit of damage, far as he was concerned. He waited impatiently for Ozzy's approval. It was the sort of ploy that Theo needed Ozzy at his back for. The kind that definitely warranted punishment, but that Sammy wouldn't necessarily risk in fear of his 'Smother'. Theo did not tell Sammy this, because he did in fact like him enough to want to keep his mate. Instead, he brought his artwork to Ozzy, and vibrated with restless energy as he anticipated the go-ahead.

"I know..." He nodded with that stretched smirk on his face, more than a little pleased that Ozzy approved. He turned the helmet, and hummed as he considered Ozzy's amendment. It was a bit on the nose, he supposed, but they did have a game coming up together. It was sort of like an intimidation tactic, as well as sickeningly funny. "Fine," He sighed, dropping the helmet back onto the pile to rifle around in his pockets loosely. "But, I can't draw a badger, so-" He tossed Ozzy a charmed self-inking quill with a thick nib for drawing. Twirling his own around in his fingers expectantly, as he bent to snatch up a chest plate.

"Do you think it'll be obvious it was us if I draw a pair of wonky tits on this?" He asked mischievously, pressing the chest plate to his front and dancing from foot to foot with two hands pressed over the pectorals. He didn't really care if Ozzy said it would be obvious, he was definitely drawing a pair of tits on the chest plate. He snickered, dropping down onto the ground and beginning to diligently do just that, tongue caught between his teeth in concentration.

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Everything's crashing
but it's fantastic

September 14, 2028
Theodore Marcus Flint

Ozzy shot his best mate a glare. It was a low blow in so many ways, but nothing he wouldn’t recover from, especially with the gifts Theo brought, which were a new plan for some mischief. Suddenly, the motivation to behave to meet his Quidditch heroes flew to another corner of his mind to be remembered in the most inopportune times. Obviously, Ozzy knew that pranking the other teams was wrong but it was also harmless fun. Nobody ended up physically injured or maimed or anything like that. Plus under the surface, Ozzy was glad he wasn’t the target.

Catching the quill, Ozzy beamed. A familiar tool of the trade, and one so simple as well. He picked up one of the clean blue helmets and focused on visualizing how best to display the destruction of the house’s eagle. But Theo caught his attention again, pressing the chest plate to his body and asking about drawing tits. Ozzy laughed. ”Just don’t make them too realistic.” That was his only advice. Aside from the team consisting mainly of boys, the girls hardly had a decent rack to share amongst themselves. And the Quidditch uniforms did nothing to flatter the poor girls.

Ozzy began drawing on the side of the helmet but immediately stopped as another idea popped into his head. Dropping the helmet with the half-finished drawing, he dug through the pile of gear for what he was looking for. Somewhere near the bottom, the team’s jerseys lay crumpled in a heap. Finally, he found the jersey belonging to one of the beaters. ”They won’t see this on their jerseys right away…” Ozzy giggled to himself as he sprawled the clothing flat on the ground and began to draw while on his hands and knees. ’Bludgers aren’t the only thing I beat.’ The jokes on a beater handling their bat were endless and would never stop as long as Quidditch existed.

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[Theodore Marcus Flint]

a fine young galahad.

THE CHEST PLATE WAS COLD AGAINST THEO'S front as he displayed it with a boyish glee. Ozzy was as buzzed as he was, and they were quick to work as Theo collapsed onto the grass and brandished his quill. "As if you know what a real pair of tits look like, Elbow." Theo ribbed him, tongue in cheek as he cast him a taunting expression before he made a very ridiculous 'w' on the front of the hard, woven leather of the plate. He lifted his head minutely, to examine Ozzy's work from across the burlap sack. He appeared hard at work, the quill gripped tight in his fingers. A curtain of shaggy brown hair obscuring his concentrating face. Theo added the nipples and admired it from afar momentarily, snickering quietly to himself before he went in to add a few final touches.

As Ozzy moved on, Theo leaned up on his knees to watch as he rifled around and pulled a beater's jersey out of the pile. He hopped up and down on his knees in glee, anticipating something good and filthy as he watched Ozzy work from where he was braced on the grass. Both giggling together like a couple of girls, but neither self-aware enough to be embarrassed about it as Ozzy added the final letters and held up his masterpiece. "Draw a dick next to it!" Theo exclaimed, holding his belly as he laughed, before he held up a hand for a victory high-five.

"You know," He sat back on the ground, retrieving his wand from the inside of his robes and twirling it with a troublesome grin on his face. "I've been doing some charms work, and I found a very interesting trigger spell..." Theo tapped the end of his wand against the jersey, muttering the Latin incantation and watching as the ink bled away from the fabric until it was spotless once more. Then, quickly as it had vanished, Theo spoke the counter spell and the words slowly faded back into stark existence.

Theo quirked his brows and grinned at Ozzy. "We can slip a good word to Munster, get him to announce the spell mid-match..." Theo shrugged his shoulders callously. "How quickly do you think they'll forfeit the match when Captain looks down and sees a great big pair of tits on his chest plate?" It was a wicked tactic, one that would surely result in serious punishment if they were ever caught. Which meant they had to be sure they wouldn't be caught. 

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Everything's crashing
but it's fantastic

September 14, 2028
Theodore Marcus Flint

The energy was always contagious in situations like this. Ozzy was on board with Theo’s plan faster than a niffler on a galleon. ”Your sister was happy to show me hers.” Ozzy teased in return. This was, of course, untrue, as if either of Theo’s older sisters would give Ozzy the time of day. He was just another one of their little brother’s stupid friends. He supposed it was how Monday or Charlie might view any of his friends at school. The silence never lasted long between the pair, despite their intense focus on the task at hand. If only Ozzy could focus this intently on his assignments, but his grades were decent enough.

Nobody expected Ozzy to be at the top of his class, after all. He looked up, meeting Theo’s eyes before following his instruction. Naturally, Ozzy made sure the dick was not too large as to imply anything about this particular beater. ”Sometimes I amaze myself.” Ozzy added proudly after returning Theo’s high-five. But he still had to finish drawing the badger on the other helmet, so he went for that before his friend spoke again. The words disappeared from the jersey, only to reappear with a simple charm. Ozzy looked amazed.

”Dude, that’s genius!” If there was ever any doubt Ozzy was LA born and bred, it was when his brain forgot he wasn’t there. Ozzy already found himself in a fit of giggles at the mental image. ”I mean—someone will have to tell him eventually, right? Would it work for everything?” Some charms had a limited range, and the Quidditch Pitch was not a small area. But targeting the Captain was a worthy goal. ”Its too bad we can’t easily get a banner to appear on the tail end of his broomstick saying ‘I like Grannys’ or something…” At least Ozzy didn’t know off the top of his head how to accomplish that without too much trouble. Drawing obscenities on the gear seemed a lot easier.

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[Theodore Marcus Flint]

a fine young galahad.

PERHAPS IF THEO WAS A BIT OLDER OR WISER he might have had the decency to pretend to be offended for his older sisters' virtue. Instead, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that the best person to fight the twins' battles were, in fact, the twins. So, Theo snorted instead and lifted his head to throw Ozzy a taunting stare as he opened his mouth, "Did you mean your sister?" He asked, blinking innocently as he pointed his quill at his friend casually. "I mean, it's alright if you're not really related, right?" Theo snickered at his own joke as he lowered his head, perfecting his crude drawing with his tongue between his teeth.

Hands meeting over the burlap sack, they were more than a little obvious about their childish glee. Practising his carefully crafted charm to optimise the revelation of their prank, Theo was more than a little proud of himself. There were a lot of classes he mucked up in, but Charms and Defence were two he attempted to take at least a little seriously. Mostly because they were actually useful, especially when it came to messing with his competition.

"We'll have to practice, but I suppose if we got Sammy and Scottie to help we could combine the force of the spell." He said thoughtfully, looking at the pile of gear and trying to picture the pitch in his mind's eye. It was all very technical-like. "Worst case, it'll really mess them up if their Captain cries on the pitch." Theo's eyes glinted with a teasing glee as he pictured it. Barking a belly laugh as Ozzy suggested his own addendum. "We can always draw it on the back of his gear." Theo offered, the suggestion too good to pass up. "'I love grannies, and the grannies love me'" Theo quoted, running his finger across the back of the woven brace. 

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Everything's crashing
but it's fantastic

September 14, 2028
Theodore Marcus Flint

Ozzy’s expression shifted quickly as Theo turned his statement around on him. ”Dude, no.” He shook his head in disgust. It didn’t matter they had different birth parents. It wasn’t any less a ridiculous suggestion. ”You’re fucking weird, that’s still my sister dude.” Never in a million billion years would Ozzy ever look at Charlie or Monday that way. Just no. On the other hand, Theo's sisters were nice to look at, and twins, no less. Sammy and Scottie also had twin older sisters. Though Ozzy didn’t mention them. He’d once seen Sammy punch a kid in the face for calling his mom a MILF.

Theo’s revelation made this prank all the better. ”This is awesome. They can’t get mad at us for using that charm, you know.” Ozzy began as he thought of what the scene might look like. ”Think about it. We’re just a couple of bright fifth years—looking to take the knowledge from the classroom to the field and expand our capabilities by thinking outside the box!” Isn’t that what their professors more or less pushed them to do? Not just memorize the pages of endless textbook content but absorb it and all that. Already, he formulated perfectly good responses when Monday asked him about getting in trouble again. Assuming they were caught.

His friend was correct, however, and they would need more wands for a spell of that magnitude. At this point, Ozzy was almost finished with the badger eating the eagle. All one could see was the wings sticking out the sides of the badger’s mouth and its talons. ”Hmm…what about like shrinking his cape at some point, and he has ‘JUICY’ written on his ass?” For about five minutes, the old trend of the juicy tracksuits reappeared, and of course, his mother had jumped on that bandwagon. But thankfully, it had faded. Still, it was fresh in Ozzy’s mind as he hadn’t been that young then. ”We could save that for the next time we duel in Defense Against the Dark Arts.” In preparation for their OWLs, Professor Zabini brought them to the practice dueling rings, and the groups took turns while the class watched. It was the perfect place—expect they’d get whatever punishment Professor Zabini threw at them.

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[Theodore Marcus Flint]

a fine young galahad.

THE SPEED OF OZZY'S SMUG SATISFACTION TO complete horror sent Theo into a fit of laughter. He threw his head back, cackling into the open air before rocking back around, cackles petering off to snickers as he shook his head at Ozzy's disgust. "It's too easy," He said into his handiwork, entirely too pleased with himself as Ozzy smarted from his spot across from him. Both eventually falling back into their careful pieces of artwork.

Nodding his head, Theo agreed enthusiastically with Ozzy's deduction. "Exactly!" He exclaimed, pointing his wand at him to emphasis his agreement as he cast an eye at their pile of good work. The smell of ink and leather filling his nostrils. "We're keen learners," He wiggled his brows, a little too excited to see how the whole matter unfolded. Considering how Sammy and Scottie could be convinced, Scottie would be easier, but Sammy tended to be a little more cautious when they could possibly be caught and punished.

"J-Juicy?!" Theo spluttered, bending over the piece of armour he was currently working on and opening his mouth in gleeful surprise. "That's genius!" He hadn't a clue about the muggle significance, laughing at the sheer silliness of it without needing much clarification. "Juicy..." He muttered to himself, shaking his head as he finished a lovely hairy belly button on this particular chest plate before he added it back to the pile. "Oh- perfect! But... maybe after we finish with this." He nodded to their pile of Ravenclaw armour and the scheme ahead. "Wouldn't want them connecting the dots too quickly." He stretched out his legs and took a break to stare at the cloud cover above their heads. "I do love a mind game, though." He sighed wistfully.

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