Chapter Text
three years ago
“Wingardium leviosa!” The students gasped when the feather sitting in front of their professor suddenly floated in the air.
“This spell is a fairly beginner one,” Flitwick began, once he had returned the feather to its original place, sitting on his desk. “but it can be a bit difficult at first. I’d like you all to try it right now. Remember, swish and flick, and make sure you put the right emphasis.”
The class erupted into repetitions of “Wingardium leviosa" punctuated with frustrated groans and the occasional growl of anger.
Izuku stared at his feather, analyzing the way Flitwick had held the wand, the way he had said the words, emphasis on the 'gar’ and the ‘o’, “swish and flick" he had said, but flick how? In which direction? Upwards? Was it more of an outward motion or a-
“Midoriya-chan, that’s scary, stop that.” Izuku jolted out of his analysis to turn wide eyes on Tsuyu sitting next to him.
“O-oh! I-I’m so sorry!” He clamped his mouth shut to prevent any further muttering and just decided to go for it.
“Wingardium leviosa.” Swishing and flicking, he applied the effects of his analysis to the spell. The feather wobbled for a second on his desk before it levitated, hovering in the air in front of Izuku’s wide eyes.
Flitwick spotted his success before he could do anything about it. “Absolutely brilliant! Everyone, do take a look at Mr. Midoriya’s feather. You could stand to take a few pointers from him.”
The boy in question blushed at the praise and at the eyes that turned to look at him in both jealousy and awe. “I-it's nothing.”
Wanting to get away from the gazes, Izuku releases the hold he has on the feather with his wand and watches as it settles back again on the table.
“Psst… hey… Midoriya, right?”
His head snaps up and to the right, where the voice came from. There's a boy next to him with golden eyes and a messy head of red hair and Izuku remembers that this guy had greeted him with a friendly smile when he had first sat down at the beginning of class, but they hadn't actually exchanged anything other than that.
“Um… yes. How- how can I help you?”
He gestured sheepishly to his feather, still lying motionless on the desk. “D'ya think you could help me with this? I can't seem to get it right at all.”
“O-oh, uh, sure! I hope you're okay with me though, I'm not a very good teacher…” Izuku trailed off, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, anxiety clouding his mind about what if he couldn't teach well, this guy's grade in this class would depend on him, oh my god what if he failed because Izuku was such a terrible teacher-
“Hey, hey, it's alright. You'll be okay.” Said guy placed a gentle hand on him, startling him out of his worries. The worried look on the other's face sent an embarrassed crimson flooding his face at the realization that he'd probably been muttering again.
“If I mess this class up, it'll be because of my inability to get this spell right and not the effect of your teaching at all. Don't worry!” He gave a thumbs up, and it was then that Izuku noticed the telltale green of the Slytherin house lining the other's robe.
Izuku found himself eyeing the other curiously, some of his anxiety dissipating in favor of analyzing his companion.
While Izuku knew better than to make stereotypes, he seemed to be too nice to be a Slytherin. He had long associated a sort of jaded aloofness with those of the Slytherin house and this guy seemed to have none of that.
However, as viridian irises met citrine, Izuku realized: Slytherin's best quality is, after all, their ambition and cunning minds.
The look dancing in the other's golden eyes, while friendly, held a glint of mischief that Izuku had no doubt the other could exploit quite easily if he so wished.
“Hello? Midoriya?” The boy he had been currently staring at waved his hand in front of his eyes once again snapping Izuku out of whatever stupor he had found himself in. Also once again, Izuku flushed bright red.
“I'm so sorry!” He apologized profusely until the Slytherin chuckled and put up his hands to halt the “sorry”s.
Still feeling bad, Izuku immediately jumped into helping the other guy with the feather, gradually getting more comfortable thanks to the kind and patient way the guy handled his less-than-excellent instructions.
The both of them grinned happily when the other male finally got his feather to lift into the air and he immediately slung his arm around Izuku, squeezing in a half-hug.
“Thank you so much! You're my new best friend, but don't tell Ryou that.” His "new best friend" smiled at him with a wink, causing Izuku's face to flush for the third time in one class period. A new record, even for him.
“I-it’s not a big deal, really. It was your skills that finally got that feather to float.” Izuku started only to have the other tut and shake his head.
“Nah, without you, I’d have been stuck here all class. So, thank you. I’m Yukihira Souma, by the way,” he said in belated greeting, sticking his hand out, one Izuku took a bit gingerly but he shook it firmly nonetheless.
A proper handshake was only polite after all.
“Midoriya Izuku.”
present
“Izuku, sorry I'm late.” Souma bursts through the door of the Room of Requirement where Izuku sat, homework already spread out in front of him.
He looks up at his Slytherin friend and smiles. “It’s alright. I just got here.”
“Liar.” Souma narrows his eyes playfully and Izuku only laughs.
“You got me. But it really is okay.”
Souma nods once and collapses into the chair next to the other. “Practice ran longer than usual because Bakugou and Kaminari started fighting again.”
Izuku blushes at the name of his crush but despite himself, he laughs, not surprised in the slightest.
Ever since that fateful day three years ago, Izuku and Souma had begun quite an odd, but close friendship. It had started when Izuku had offered to help him with his spells and charms. Souma had offered to help Izuku with whatever he needed, but just Souma hanging out with him was good enough.
He did sometimes wonder why Souma, who is the Seeker of their Tournament Team (which in turn made him quite popular) bothered to hang out with a nerd like him ㅡ all books and homework and hardly any social life ㅡ but he didn't complain.
Souma was kind and accommodating and not at all arrogant in the slightest.
Well actually, that wasn't quite right. He was as confident as he was reckless, but he was never an asshole.
It was this quality that initially led to Izuku crushing on the other but after one experimental night between them, followed by a month or so of what they now jokingly refer to as “the trial run”, they decided being friends suited them much better.
Besides, now Souma is close friends with Izuku's current crush just as Izuku is also quite acquainted with the boy Souma had been pining after for a while now.
So they were good friends as well as homework buddies and the designated person to rant to about their love interests. It was an interesting arrangement, but Izuku treasured Souma as a dear friend.
Also, despite the fact that he did have quite a few other friends (all people who quite preferred the seclusion of books and the library to anything else) Souma was, oddly enough, the only person who knew about the secret Izuku had had to hide for the three years since he'd arrived at Hogwarts.
Granted, he had found out about it accidentally during the very same incident that pushed them together as something more than just friends.
Izuku sat on his bed, staring at Souma from under his eyelashes, breath quickening, heart pounding. Part of it was the fact that it was way past lights out and Souma should have been back in his own house’s dorms by now, but the other part was, well, Souma himself.
Souma and his crimson hair, framing his ruggedly handsome face; Souma and his golden eyes, both a source of comfort as well as the current bane of Izuku’s existence; Souma and his beautiful personality and even more beautiful smile.
Now, Souma may be a little oblivious, but he isn't dumb. He’s starting to realize, however belatedly, the meaning behind the looks Izuku’s been giving him when he thinks Souma isn’t watching; the meaning of Izuku’s soft, breathy laugh and crimson flush anytime Souma threw an arm around him.
And in all honesty, it wasn’t like he could fault Izuku at all. He wasn’t completely in the clear for any less-than-friendly thoughts about his good friend.
Izuku, though he’d be hard-pressed to actually see it for himself, was, for lack of a better word, incredibly pretty. Big, doe eyes the color of a deep emerald, charming messy head of green locks that would not stay down no matter how hard he tried (and which are, in fact, as soft as they look).
But the clincher was his wonderfully big heart, never failing to lend a helping hand to anyone, even when they didn’t deserve it, and the feisty personality the other hid, giving anyone who tried him the message that no matter how kind Izuku may be, he is no pushover.
The only thing was, Souma didn’t really know if they would be compatible as a couple. And he didn’t think Izuku was sure of that either.
Still, the way Izuku was looking at him now, in addition to the tense atmosphere between them, not at all a bad sort of tension mind you, a part of Souma whispers that they’d never know.
They’d never know till they tried. Isn’t that what people told you when they thought you shouldn’t give up on anything ㅡ or in this case, anyone ㅡ before trying at least once?
It was this little voice, pressing and insistent that, when Izuku shifted closer, knees bumping with Souma’s, biting his bottom lip as though he can’t physically say the words but is doing everything he can to convey to Souma what he feels nonetheless, brought Souma to pull the smaller even closer and admire the pretty scarlet that spreads over freckles like constellations before he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to lips that he may or may not have dreamt about a few times.
It wasn’t much longer after that until Izuku was kissing him back, deepening their liplock. It was when they pulled away, the need to breathe becoming too insistent, however, that gave Souma quite a bit of surprise. He didn’t mean to stare, but it was incredibly difficult not to.
The olive irises he had come to be so familiar with were now ice blue, like the tops of a snowy mountain rather than a deep forest, and his hair had become a silver-white, pale and startling and oh so beautiful.
Izuku’s eyes had been closed for a while after that, but when Souma didn’t say anything, he gingerly opened his eyes, only to find the redhead gaping at him. He wondered, for one horrible, horrible second, that Souma was horrified to have kissed him, but when Souma shakily raised a hand to vaguely gesture to his hair, he began to have a sinking suspicion it was something much bigger.
“Y-your… h-h-hair… and- and eyes…” Izuku had never (read: never) heard Souma stutter and then, it dawned on him, the realization hitting him hard and fast and he was completely unprepared.
Izuku wasn’t able to say anything for a while, fear clenching his heart tightly, replacing the tingling affection that had just been sitting there a mere few minutes earlier. Finally, despite the fact that his vocal chords felt as if they were pinched tight, he managed to choke out, “What color?”
“S-silver. Your hair is- it’s silver. And… wow, your eyes are- blue.”
Despite Souma confirming exactly what he feared had happened, a part of Izuku breathed in relief. It could have been much worse - his face could have morphed into some sort of animal. What with the intense emotions he had had that led to him losing control like this, it could have been a hell of a lot worse.
Still, the explanation was so much harder than he anticipated it’d be when he thought about having to tell people in the future.
“You probably already know it, but I’m a… metamorphmagus. I- I don’t even really know how I acquired the ability but when my emotions get a little out of hand, it slips up.”
Souma nodded dully, still a little dumbstruck. “But- then why are you hiding it? It’s not like it’s a bad thing, in fact, it’s really fucking cool.”
Izuku smiled wryly. “That’s exactly why I hide it. I’m not someone who necessarily likes people staring at me all the time.”
They had talked more about it after (as well as their new relationship status) and thankfully, Souma understood him and had had no problem keeping it a secret for Izuku and often, covered for him when he wasn't yet the greatest at control.
Izuku had gotten much better at metamorphing since then, though it was not so much learning the ability as it was learning how to better control his emotions.
Souma is still a huge help, however. And it's also rather comforting ㅡ to know he doesn't have to struggle with hiding his secret all by himself.
“You slip at all today?” Souma asks after a while of them working on their homework silently. Izuku prefers for them to meet in the Room of Requirement because he's not really too keen on Souma's many fangirls (and boys) dogging him for hanging out with their idol.
Souma insists it's no issue, he's proud to have Izuku as his friend and show people the reason why he’s actually doing well in charms, but Souma's also not the one who'd have to deal with his sometimes crazed fans.
Izuku hums thoughtfully, trying to sift through his memories of today. “No, thank gods. Although, I may have been close to doing so when I bumped into Bakugou accidentally.”
Souma sits up in his chair, looking at his friend with barely contained amusement. “You what?”
Izuku groans, covering his face with his hands. “I was in a hurry to get to class and I rounded the corner too fast and ran smack into Bakugou. He had to steady me so-” Izuku cut off abruptly as heat flooded to his face, remembering his worst fuck up yet.
Souma gapes at him. “He held you?”
The groan he gets in return is confirmation enough.
Souma stifles his laugh and makes a noise of sympathy. “God damn Izuku. What did he say?”
“Told me to ‘watch where you're going, dipshit’ with the sexiest scowl I've ever seen.” His voice is muffled because Izuku still hasn't removed his hands from in front of his face.
Souma did laugh then, both because he was all too familiar with his teammate’s language and mood, and because Izuku was so smitten for his asshole of a friend it was kind of funny.
Of course, if Katsuki was an actual piece of shit, Souma wouldn't let him anywhere near Izuku.
But after quite some time spent with his fiery friend, Souma has learned that beneath the prickly exterior and semi-permanent scowl is a softer-than-he'll-admit heart and very very odd way of caring.
“And then?”
“Then I said that I was so sorry and… ran away.”
“You ran away?!”
Izuku drops his hands to look his friend in the eyes, his own harried and anxious. “I didn't know what to do! This is Bakugou Katsuki we're talking about. Plus you know as well as I do how absolutely shit I am at flirting.”
Souma disagrees immediately. “Bullshit. You are not shit at flirting; quite the opposite actually. You're too natural at it.”
It's Izuku's turn to gape. “Wh-what do you m-mean?”
Souma rolls his eyes good-naturedly. He was used to Izuku not understanding just how actually good-looking he was, but sometimes, he was a little bit too clueless.
“I mean exactly what I said. You're much better at using those charms of yours than you think. I bet you even Bakugou wouldn't stand a chance if you really flipped it on.”
The crimson returns to the smaller boy's face and he plops his head in his arms that are resting on the desk. “Except for the fact that I can't properly say one sentence around him without stuttering terribly.”
Now that, Souma does agree with.
“Besides,” Izuku continues in a slightly more melancholy tone. “Bakugou probably- scratch that, definitely, has the pick of essentially anyone he wants. There's no way in hell he'd give me the time of day.”
Souma scoots closer and wraps an arm around the smaller with no hesitation, the other immediately burying his face into Souma's side.
“Izuku?”
“Hm?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Izuku draws his head up to glare but his retort is stuck in his throat at the soft smile Souma is giving him.
“You really need to realize that you're so much more of a catch than you think.” Souma presses a kiss to unruly forest green hair ㅡ an action that before, would have sent a flurry of butterflies in Izuku's stomach, now provides a blooming sense of comfort.
Izuku cuddles close to him, homework forgotten, and they don't say anything else as most friends don't always need to, simply sitting, gaining energy just by being with each other.
Izuku walks down the corridors to the mess hall, one ear tuned to Ochako’s and Tsuyu’s conversation next to him.
As the trio round the corner, Izuku sees another trio walking in their direction that has him choking and dipping his head low to burn holes in the ground.
Yukihira Souma and Kirishima Eijirou with their unmistakable red hair ㅡ one a little brighter of a hue, the other a deeper crimson ㅡ and friendly yet confident grins flank Bakugou Katsuki, ash blond hair and scowl set on his handsome face the starkest contrast to the two on either side of him.
It isn't that hard to spot them, really, considering the fact that the students lingering in the hallway immediately part to let them through, and there's a gaggle of girls trailing behind the trio, eyes glimmering with infatuation and something else that Izuku swears is malicious as they hold countless bottles in their hand, filled with what are no doubt love potions of some sort.
The guys are a little more subdued, but the blatant gazes of admiration and maybe a little bit of jealousy are unmistakable.
Izuku keeps his eyes on the ground and hopes against hope that his hair isn't so unruly, so unmistakable. He doesn't look up, not even for Souma, especially not for Souma.
The last thing he wants is for attention to be drawn to him if Souma decided to greet him; especially since his friend happens to be surrounded by rabid fangirls and is right next to the source of both Izuku's nightmares and daydreams, Bakugou Katsuki.
He holds his breath unconsciously, heart pounding as they get closer and closer and closer and oh thank fuck they're almost passing-
“Izuku!”