Voltron Hogwarts AU
Part 3/?
(A (sort of) Lance-narrated Shallura fic in multiple parts)
(Now with a prequel)
The sky was clear, its bright blue accented by the autumn colors that lined the street and crunched underfoot. A slight breeze heralded the new school year, it’s novelty only just beginning to wear, calling the young witches and wizards to enjoy the season before the bone-chilling wind of winter replaced it’s gentle coolness. All in all, a perfect weekend for Hogsmeade.
Hunk, Pidge, and Lance met up first, impatiently talking World Cup stats until Keith surfaced from the Slytherin dungeon. The group followed the mass exodus from the Castle, everyone in high spirits as a month’s worth of pent-up energy (Quidditch season having yet to start) was collectively expelled.
The enchanting power of Hogsmeade’s main street never got old. Everyone’s attention was quickly pulled in different directions; including Lance, whose gaze was caught by a familiar pair slipping through the crowd. Even badge-less and out of their usual black robes, Lance could spot Allura’s shining mane from a mile away. She and Shiro were walking oddly close to each other, making a beeline toward a storefront covered in bows and painted a sickeningly sweet pink.
“What the hell-” Lance muttered, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to squint. “Guys! Guys!” he called, gesturing to his friends. They stopped a few feet ahead of him, but didn’t bother retracing their steps. “Do you see this?” Lance pointed across the street, his eyes bulging as the full weight of his realization dawned on him, “Do you see where they’re going?”
“Who?” Pidge called, scanning the other side of the street.
“Shiro and Allura,” Lance hissed, furiously beckoning to them.
Hunk strolled over to Lance’s side. “So? What’s wrong?”
Lance’s mouth hung open, “They’re going to Madam Puddifoot’s!”
The tingling of bell wafted across the street, and the pair were gone. Hunk snorted. “They’re going where?”
“Madam Puddifoot’s!” Lance cried, throwing up his hands.
A smirk curled over Keith’s face. “Madam who?”
“-Puddifoot!” Lance huffed at the chores of giggles that rose from his friends, coupled with Pidge’s pleas for him to never say that again. “Keith, how can you not care about this? He’s your brother!”
Keith shrugged, “I don’t care what he does- and I don’t even see them.” He started to turn away, gesturing over his shoulder, “C’mon Lance, don’t you want to get to Spintwitches’ to see the new Nimbus?”
“Oo, let’s go!” Hunk clapped a hand on Lance’s shoulder before moving down the street, “Shay’s birthday is next week, I want to get her some new Beater’s gloves-”
“-Blowing all your money on Shay, huh, Hunk?”
“-Shut up-”
Lance stood still for a second, staring at the tea shop sign as his friend’s voices got further away.
“Hey, wait up-!”
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“Good luck out there, Pidge,” Lance smiled, holding a hand out to his fellow Seeker.
“You too,” Pidge adjusted her glasses, slapping her hand against Lance’s and giving it a quick squeeze, “See you on the pitch!”
The two parted ways at the pitch entrance, Lance making his way toward the Gryffindor locker room.
First match of the semi-finals. Time to get his head in the game.
Forget the Charms essay that was already two days late; forget that he and Keith weren’t speaking to each other for who even remembers what reason; forget that he almost lost his arm in disapparation practice the other night. This was what he was good at; although, maybe if he showed up to Charms as early as he showed up to matches his grades would be better.
Lance shook his head as he pushed through the door marked Gryffindor, chiding himself. Upon entering, he was met with two wide-eye stares.
Shiro and Allura were sitting on the center bench, practically in each other’s laps. Lance swore he saw hands unclasping, a palm zoom away from a lap. If their position wasn’t incriminated enough, both of the captain’s faces were red and guilty as hell.
Before Lance could even muster a word, Allura produced a piece of parchment from out of nowhere. “-Ahem, hello, Lance-” Allura flashed a smile, a little too wide to be natural, “Shiro and I were just going over our offensive tactics for the match-”
Shiro nodded, his eyes shifting between Allura and Lance, “Yep, talking strategy-” he cleared his throat “-You know those Ravenclaws, and their…” He and Allura shared a panicked glance.
Lance raised a brow, “-Defense?” He surveyed their emphatic nods with narrowed eyes. Why did he feel like the suspicious parent? Wasn’t that their job?
Before he could say anything else, the other Gryffindor Chasers walked in, immediately pulling Shiro into their conversation.
— “I can’t believe you don’t believe me!” Lance stabbed at his sausage, huffing at the damp lock of hair that kept falling into his face.
“It’s not that we don’t believe you…” Pidge propped her chin in her hand, still exhausted from the match, “But I mean, Shiro and Allura? If anyone’s going to actually be going over Quidditch tactics, it’s them.”
“Yeah, I don’t know, man,” Hunk added, anxiously eyeing Lance’s punctured lunch, “Trust me, I’ve been waiting for it to happen, but-”
Keith reached over to grab a plum cake from the newly refreshed tray. “I don’t know about Allura, but I live with Shiro and I didn’t notice anything off this summer.”
A laugh rang out from the other side of the Great Hall, where Shiro, Matt, and Allura were sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table. The younger counterparts all turned, each one trying to calculate from their place at the Hufflepuff table just how close the pair in question were sitting. Matt saw them and stretched out his arm in a sweeping wave, disturbing some stray post owls as he called, “Hey Pidge! Great flying today- you’ll get ‘em next time!”
Lance slumped against the table with a sigh. Keith frowned, setting down his dessert. “Hey, you never know,” he smiled mischievously, nudging Lance’s elbow, “Maybe it’s all a cover for Shiro and Matt.” The image was enough to get a laugh out of Lance, who decided it was best to change the subject.
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Winter had finally set in at Hogwarts. An evil month, really; besides Christmas, nothing good happened in winter. Sure, the Castle was beautiful, frosted in a fresh layer of snow, but Lance was freezing. Walking through the cloister hallway, he swore he could feel his bone marrow turning to ice. (No exaggeration.)
He huffed— Literally, because he forgot gloves and his warm breath was the only thing saving his poor fingers. Metaphorically, because Keith had borrowed his scarf and it turned out he looked really good in red; so now, there he was, scarf-less and inexplicably angry. His train of thought wandered off in that direction, and he nearly smacked into the towering figure of Headmaster Alfor as they both rounded a corner. “-Ah! Sorry, Headmaster, my bad,” Lance grimaced.
The bemused expression on Alfor’s face smoothed into a smile as he chuckled, “Not to worry! I won’t take any points from Gryffindor- unless it happens again.” With a wink he swept away, leaving Lance to wonder where Allura got the stick that was usually up her ass. Speaking of which-
Lance dodged back behind the wall. She was leaning against a pillar, arms folded and lips pulled into a frown. Peeking out, Lance could see Shiro’s profile as he sat on the low courtyard wall, dragging a hand down his face.
Shiro grumbled something. Allura glanced around, responding in a low voice. “-Of course he likes you…”
Lance raised a brow. Those two had been friends since they were like…eleven. Childhood friendships didn’t come with Dad Drama- something was up.
Why was he the only one seeing these things?
Allura put her hand on Shiro’s shoulder. There was a prolonged gaze. This was getting too personal.
Lance retreated down the hall, for once glad that the snow was there to muffle the sound of his footsteps.
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Finally, spring had freed the grounds from its wintertime prison. A fragrant breeze stirred the air, enticingly rippling the surface of the Great Lake. The gang wound their way back to the Castle after a fun afternoon spent stretched out on its banks, snacking on stolen food from the Great Hall and discovering that (apparently) Keith had a deeper relationship with the Giant Squid than anyone had supposed.
They picked up Matt as a straggler on his way back from the Quidditch pitch, and he was regaling them all with his own wild Giant Squid stories (all false, according to Pidge) as they stepped through the Fat Lady’s doorway. Evidently everyone else had also been drawn outdoors, and the couches and cushions of the common room sat deserted except-
“Oh. My. God.”
Who else was leaning against the wall but Head Boy and Head Girl, Co-Captain and Co-Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, Mr. and Mrs. Professionalism and Responsibility, Star Student and the Headmaster’s Daughter. Allura’s back was to the wall, Shiro’s hand claiming the space above her shoulder; her hands were on his chin, in his hair, on his chest; in the weeks to come Lance would swear he saw tongue.
Matt looked like he had been hit by a bus. Pidge and Keith looked like they were going to barf. Hunk looked like a proud grandmother.
A hundred words came to Lance’s mind- irresponsible, bad example, gross, sneaky, reckless- but all that came out was, “Ha!”
As if they were struck by lightening, Shiro and Allura leaped away from each other. Their faces turned a violent shade of crimson, their eyes trying to look at everybody and nobody at the same time. A mix of sputtering “I- we weren’t- you-” joined Lance’s triumphant cackling. Finally, Shiro let out a resigned, “Fuck.”
Matt staggered over to the couch, hand over his heart like a woman in need of her smelling salts. “Please tell me you guys ate some bad Nettleroot and this is some weird drug-fueled hallucinogenic thing?”
Allura glanced at Shiro, wringing her hands. After a second she forced out the words, “No, it’s- it’s been going on for awhile.”
Matt shut his eyes. “How long?”
Shiro swallowed. “…Nine-ish months.”
“Takashi. Shirogane.” Matt lurched forward, his eyes wide. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“We’re so sorry, Matt!” Allura grabbed Shiro’s hand, a move that only seemed to cause Matt physical pain. “It just happened over the summer, and we didn’t know if it would work out-”
“-And we didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and we’re both captains, and then I got Head Boy-”
An upheld hand cut off Shiro. “Tell me exactly when. And where.”
Shiro sighed. “The first time we were in London, in July.” He and Allura glanced at each other, unable to keep from smiling. “That night with the firewhiskey, at your aunt’s…you passed out-”
“Did you two…in my aunt’s home- while I was in the room!?”
“No!” They cried emphatically, Allura adding, “Good Lord!”
Matt slumped back against the couch, waving his hand dismissively. “Well, I’ve seen this coming for years. I still can’t believe you hid this from me, but- you have my blessing.”
Allura’s face dropped into an incredulous glare, a retort on the tip of her tongue, but Shiro cut in with a pointed look at his girlfriend, “Thank you, Matt.”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Lance stepped in, arms crossed indignantly, “I think we all need to take a minute and acknowledge the fact that I told you, and you, and you! I was right all along!” A victorious finger was jabbed into the faces of Pidge, Hunk, and Keith successively.
Keith smacked away the hand. “Put it in a Howler.”
“Maybe I will, Keith, maybe I will!” Lance turned on his heel, striding toward the portrait opening as if his next task was announcing the News to all of Hogwarts. “And give me back my scarf!”
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