Love, Harry • h.potter ✓

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ғιғтeen

The fireplace remained suspiciously quiet as Callum sat in front of it and scrutinised it carefully.

Harry had written and said that he would be arriving by Floo and Callum was determined to see exactly how and from where he would appear. He refused to blink as he stared intently at the pile of old logs and splinters.

A distant whoosh was heard, and suddenly the fireplace erupted into a burst of emerald flames, which soon disappeared to reveal Harry, covered in dust. He gave a short jerk upon seeing Callum at such close proximity. He moved out of the fireplace before looking at him in annoyance. "Hi," he said shortly.

Callum suddenly began to feel awkward as the memory of their kiss played around in his mind, and he averted his gaze, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Harry smirk. "Funny, you're normally so talkative in your letters."

He scowled and ignored him. "Do you want to go for a walk?" he asked, and Harry nodded. He reached out his hand to grab his. "Four kept whining after you left last week," he said and dragged Harry out of the room to find Four, who was probably hiding under some furniture and wallowing in misery at Harry's absence. "He kept looking for you all the time."

"Hm," Harry hummed, sounding rather nonchalant, "at least someone misses me at Little Whinging."

Callum tilted his head back to look at his face, wanting to say something, but not knowing what. He was taking Harry to the room where he kept his pets, but Four suddenly appeared from another direction and bounded toward them, letting out a series of happy barks. He let go of Harry's hand to allow him to pick the dog up, rolling his eyes as Four left several licks on Harry's face, something he had never done to Callum himself.

"Why didn't you come by Floo before?" he asked as they walked down Magnolia Crescent, Four attached to a leash the other end of which was wrapped in Harry's hand. The streets were quite deserted, Callum noticed with much relief, for he wasn't sure he would have felt comfortable walking with Harry in the midst of a crowd of people, judgemental looks piercing their backs. Harry didn't seem to be too bothered however.

"Mrs Weasley thought it would be rude to do so in a muggle home," he replied. "Especially considering how Mr Weasley nearly destroyed the Dursley's fireplace once. But then that was electric."

"What are the Weasleys like?" he moved so that he faced Harry, walking backwards. Four looked amazed at this feat and tried to do the same himself, but only managed to tangle himself on the leash.

"They are great," Harry answered, rather fondly. "They treat me like their own son."

"They have seven children, you said?"

"Yes, but only two of them are in school currently." He frowned, as though remembering something. He hesitated. "What's your – Thomson is the name given by your foster parents, right?"

"Yeah," he nodded slowly.

"Do you remember what your actual name was?" Harry asked cautiously.

"I do."

"What was it?"

Callum knew why Harry was asking this. He had mentioned, once, something about having a younger brother, and if his parents hadn't left the country out of shame of producing a squib, it was likely that his brother was still attending Hogwarts. Callum hadn't really considered this possibility before, but now a sudden nervousness had taken over him at the idea. It was very likely that Harry knew his brother. He swallowed.

"I'd rather not say." And he moved to get into step beside Harry once again, not having the desire to see the pitiful look that had formed on his face.