A giggle. A thump. A grimace. Then silence. That was what any student passing by Hanover House heard on one autumn afternoon, when the leaves had just changed color, and the weather was chilly enough for everyone to be cooped up inside. Everyone, of course, except the younger Bancroft child and her new boyfriend.
“I don’t think they saw us.” Laura giggled, sitting up on her forearms and straddling the hunter by the waist.
Dwight flushed a bright crimson color, and made a move to get up before he was pushed back down by a thin pair of arms.
“Laura,” he began once he had regained his ability to speak, “Get off of me. Someone is going to see. Your brother is going to see.”
Laura rolled her eyes.
“I’m not afraid of him.”
“Well, speak for yourself. You’re not the one that’s going to need medical attention once he finds out.” Dwight wriggled out of Laura’s grasp and sat cross legged on the grass so that he was still hidden by the shrubbery. Laura did the same, placing her elbow on one of her knees and her head in the palm of her hand.
“I don’t understand why we can’t just tell him,” she sighed dramatically, “He’s going to find out sooner or later. Hanover House is known for secrets, after all.”
“I know,” Dwight snapped, and then looked apologetic. “I know. I just,” he let out a deep gust of air, that was made visible in the chilly weather. “You don’t come here often, and I’m scared.”
Laura lifted her head from where it was placed in her palm, and raised an eyebrow.
The hunter bit his lip.
“That I’ll say something stupid to make you hate me, and then your brother will go all White Queen on me,” he took a deep breath, “And then you’ll go back to London forever and never talk to me again.” He looked up at Laura for the first time, eyes vulnerable, before turning his attentions to a particularly long strand of grass.
The blonde frowned, lips slightly parted. She really didn’t know what to say, so she settled for reaching out and entwining her fingers in the hunter’s.
“You are absolutely, certifiably, insane.”
Dwight looked like he had been slapped in the face, he opened his mouth to say something, before Laura interrupted him.
“Do you really think I’d ‘go back to London and never talk to you again’ over something you said?” She shook her head, “Honestly, it’s like you don’t know me at all. And as for Justin, he will just have to deal with the fact that I’m not a little girl anymore. I can handle myself, and I know that you would never do anything bad enough warrant the old Justin to make a return.” She smiled, and gave Dwight’s hand a reassuring squeeze.
He returned the gesture, and flashed a half smile at the blonde. He opened his mouth for the second time that day, and was again interrupted yet again by a new voice from the other side of the bush.
“Let’s hope not.”
The two gasped, shuffling to stand up from the grass once they saw, none other than the Hanover Prefect himself looming over the shrubbery.
“Did you two honestly think you could keep it a secret for this long?” He asked, rolling his eyes. He rested his gaze on Dwight, who swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat. This was it. “Alright, let’s get the big brother talk out of the way.”
Dwight clenched his jaw, suddenly very aware of the short distance between him and Laura.
“You’re a good guy, Dwight, and as long as Laura’s happy, I’m happy.” he admitted, “But if you do anything to make her unhappy,” he stared pointedly at the Windsor, “We’ll have to have a discussion.”
“Justin!” Laura groaned, rolling her eyes and grabbing Dwight’s hand. Dwight jumped, looking down at their entwined fingers like they were on fire. He flashed Laura a look and she laughed.
“Are you done?” She asked, turning back to Justin, who nodded,never taking his eyes off of the bewildered boy.
“Good,” she decided, pulling Dwight toward the other side of the campus. When they were far away enough so that Justin could no longer see them. She turned to her white faced boyfriend and grinned, putting both hands on her hips. “That wasn’t so bad, now, was it?”
“Sweet Castiel,” groaned the hunter, running a hand through his hair, “You will be the death of me, Laura Bancroft.”