#legit this is not proofread and also exists without true plot leadup

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various yule ball shenanigans (trr hogwarts au)

drabble about yule ball drama and dumb idiots who can’t communicate for the trr hogwarts au. in a perfect world, there would be some prior context for how this all came about, but an au drabble is an au drabble and i need to stop obsessing over making it into a full fledged fic lmao.... hope this tides u guys over until i finally post my mawell fic aslkdfj im a rat sorry lov u all!!

They’re sitting in the common room when it happens. It starts innocuously enough, Drake practicing his levitation spells for Charms (still failing) while Maxwell watches and provides exactly zero helpful input. Riley has only just entered, nose pink from the cold, unwinding a scarf from around her neck.

“Hey Riley,” Maxwell calls as she passes by the both of them, heading towards her room. “We’re meeting up tomorrow afternoon for extra bludger practice with the alternates. Just confirmed it with the Captain.”

“I can’t tomorrow,” she says, breezing past in an unusually casual way.

“Hold up.” Maxwell makes a face at her. “What do you mean, you can’t? You don’t have other plans. I would know.”

She pauses, turning around to look at him in annoyance. “You don’t know everything about me. And as a matter of fact, I do have plans. I’m going shopping with Hana for a Yule Ball dress.”

“You’re going to the Yule Ball?” Maxwell raises his eyebrows. “I thought you were protesting.”

“I was,” Riley seems to savor answering, looking him square in the face while she does. “But then Liam asked me.”

Drake drops his spell immediately, the tea falling along with it, but Riley merely raises a hand and deftly redirects the mug to a nearby side table. Maxwell, meanwhile, is outright staring. 

“Liam?” He says, flabbergasted. “Drake’s Liam?”

Riley bristles. “He’s not anybody’s Liam, he’s just himself. And he asked me, so I said yes.”

“Why?” 

“Because I wanted to.” She frowns, folding her arms across her chest. “I don’t see either of you asking me, anyway.”

“When did he ask you?” Drake says, too taken aback to even bother with Maxwell’s line of questioning. “Today?”

“It was a few days ago, actually.” Riley is clearly trying to act casual about the whole thing, fiddling absently with her wand, yet the furtive glances she keeps sneaking at the two of them are anything but. 

“A few days?” Maxwell repeats. “You never said anything!”

“I’m saying it now, aren’t I?”

“But... why did he ask you?”

Her eyes flash. “Is it so hard to believe I’m likable?”

“That’s not what I meant—“

“I’m going to bed,” Drake says, standing abruptly. He doesn’t meet Riley’s eyes, only sweeps up his things from the table and moves briskly towards the sleeping quarters. He can feel their eyes boring into him as he leaves, but it’s better than having to spend one more second in that room wondering how on earth he could’ve been such an idiot. 

Riley. Of course it would be Riley. Spunky, intelligent, athletic Riley, with her long dark hair and ever-present laughter. Why else would Liam spend so much time with them, go to their matches, stay for holiday? He’d probably asked Hana to introduce them in the first place. 

Drake tosses his bag on the ground next to his bed, sitting down on the mattress with a sigh. He stares across the way for a moment, eyes unfocused, before falling back onto the comforter. 

He can’t even be mad. She’s his best friend. 

Maxwell finds him like this not too soon after, barging into their room in that unceremonious way he always does, instantly taking up space. “Can you believe that?” He says, as though they’re merely continuing a conversation from seconds ago. “And she’s not even lying. I checked.”

“Why are you upset?” Drake rolls onto his side, watching as Maxwell splays on top of his own bed across the way. “It’s not like this affects you.”

“I’m not upset,” Maxwell counters, frowning up at the ceiling. “I’m... it’s on your behalf. I’m upset for you.”

“I don’t need your manifested pity, but thanks.”

“How do you have any friends, Drake? Seriously.”

Drake lifts his head up to frown in Maxwell’s direction. “Aren’t you supposed to be cheering me up or something?”

“No, I came in here because I’m upset.” Maxwell pauses, seemingly realizing what he’s said a moment too late. “Upset for you. You made me upset.”

“Sure.” Drake falls back down against his pillow, closing his eyes. 

“It’s just so weird that she didn’t tell us,” Maxwell continues, seemingly oblivious to Drake’s disinterest. “I mean, that’s big news, right? You’d expect her to tell us, wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think she likes Liam?” Maxwell sits up at this realization, looking over at Drake with wide eyes. “What if she’s going with him in like, a romantic sense?”

“Christ, Maxwell, I don’t know.”

Maxwell bites his lip, looking out into the distance, suddenly pensive. “I just don’t get it. I don’t get why she wouldn’t tell me. We tell each other everything.”

He goes quiet, still staring at nothing in particular, brow furrowed. The silence stretches on long enough for Drake to actually hazard a glance over in his direction. As much as he loves moments of solitude, they’re few and far between where Maxwell is concerned. 

“You okay?”

Maxwell looks down at his hands, twisted together in his lap. “I don’t understand girls.”

---

At Quidditch practice the next morning, Riley sidles up to Drake before their huddle, resting a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice as gentle as a whisper, and equally as soft. “I don’t know why I didn’t say anything to you, I just…”

He focuses intently on his broom, not quite ready to meet her eyes. “You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But it feels like I did, you know?” She frowns, looking down at her hands. “I owe you more than to act like that.”

Drake shakes his head. “You don’t owe me anything. You’re my friend.”

“I owe it to you because I’m your friend,” she insists, “It was shitty of me, okay? It was.”

He isn’t quite sure what to say, so he just nods.

She sighs, running her fingers through her hair, somehow leaving it even messier than before. “If it makes any difference, I don’t feel that way about him. I’m not that much of an asshole, I promise.”

“I know,” Drake says, “but... maybe he feels that way about you.”

“It would be stupid of him. He doesn’t even know me, not really.”

Drake shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “He doesn’t know me either.”

Riley turns to look at him, jaw set in determination. “Well, he should. Because I know you, and I think he would be lucky to have that privilege.”

He shoots her a small smile. “Thanks, Brooks.”

“I’m serious. You and Max are some of the only people who’ve never judged me for where I come from, not for a second. Maybe you don’t think that’s a big deal, but when you’ve never had a family and then you get the chance to go to this incredible place filled with actual magic, only to be called ‘mudblood’ by half a dozen assholes before you’re even off the train…” She sighs. “It means a lot, okay? It means everything.”

“Riley—”

“Look, I’d never jeopardize our friendship for anything. I’ll tell Liam I can’t go.”

“No, don’t do that. It’s okay, really.” 

He can tell by the way she looks at him that she doesn’t believe him, which is fair, because he doesn’t believe himself either. “You’re sure?”

The Captain interrupts before he can answer, perhaps a saving grace in itself. “Brooks, Walker — if you’re quite finished?”