Enjolras isn’t surprised.
Well, maybe a tiny bit.
But seriously, his entire family are Ravenclaw, how would they feel about the first Gryffindor?
Would they disown him?
Nah, he could deal on his own anyway...but was he going to have to?
Grantaire isn’t surprised.
Actually, he is pretty surprised.
He had been convinced he was a Hufflepuff (how else could he explain his general easygoing-ness?) but maybe Gryffindor wouldn’t be too bad.
“Hello, and welcome to your first class. My name is Professor McGonagall, and I’ll be your Transfiguration teacher for your time here at Hogwarts. Please take a seat anywhere and get your parchment and quills ready.”
Enjolras looks around worriedly, trying to spot a seat next somebody who looks at least a tiny bit friendly (they do take this class with Slytherin after all, can’t be too careful).
Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a mop of curly hair near the window in the middle of the room, but he is already sitting next to someone.
He turns, aware that he is one of the last to sit down before seeing a friendly looking boy who already looked at ease within the classroom.
“Um, hi...can I sit here?”
The boy smiles up at him.
“Sure! I’m Courfeyrac, I saw you yesterday, we’re in the same dorm, right?”
“My name’s Enjolras, and yeah, I think so...aren’t all the Gryffindor first-year boys in the same dorm?”
The boy stops, cocks his head on one side and laughs.
“...maybe. No, wait, I’m sure there’s too many for one dorm? Yeah, I was counting the boys earlier – don’t laugh at me-”
But the warning comes too late, and Enjolras laughs with him, and gestures to him to continue...a friend already?
Meanwhile, Grantaire was the first to drop into a seat – any one, he wasn’t fussed, and he was pretty sure the Gryffindors would stick together for the first couple terms.
Another first-year (a girl, that’s weird) pulled out the chair beside him.
He turns in his seat.
She laughs, loudly and confidently, and he half-smiles, looking at her properly.
“No, idiot, I’m Eponine Thenardier. And if you even consider making fun of my name just remember that I’m probably twice as tough as you and could take you any day, magic or not.”
“I...do I look like I merit threatening? Should I be flattered? I’m Grantaire. I think it’s nice to meet you.”
They grin at each other one more time before facing the front as Professor McGonagall calls for attention.
Courfeyrac introduces Enjolras to his other best friend, Combeferre, who he met on the train on the way down. Enjolras puts out a hand without thinking about it before blushing, remembering that yep, most eleven year olds don’t really shake hands, well done genius, but Combeferre looks like he’s having exactly the same predicament and Enjolras just has this feeling like, I could see myself being friends with these guys.
Grantaire nearly has a heart attack when Eponine seizes his hand after class and drags him to the front of the class.
“Ep...what? Where are you taking me what are you doing Eponine for the love of Merlin...”
He hardly gets the words out before she’s stopped and looked at the boys standing there. She turns to Grantaire and gestures to the boys.
“Grantaire, these are Joly, Jean Prouvaire and Bahorel, aren’t they lovely?”
Grantaire looks confused and stares from boy to boy.
“Um. I’m sure they are. Hi, I’m Grantaire, it’s nice to meet you...?”
They laugh and one thumps him on the back, probably a little harder than he intended. Grantaire falls forward, only to be caught by the first one – Joly? – who pulls him up instantly and warns him against touching the floor when he doesn’t know what’s been on it, to which Grantaire nods sagely and tells him that he’ll try to avoid tripping over as much as he can.
It’s the end of their first day (already, how the hell did that go so quickly?) and Enjolras for one is definitely ready for bed. He waits in the common room for Courfeyrac and Combeferre, avoiding the other first year boys in the corner (he’s not sure he wants to meet everyone all at once, it’s overwhelming enough already) and smiles in relief when he sees them make a beeline for him.
“Enj! Ready to sleep?”
Enjolras frowns at the nickname, but brightens up at the thought of sleep, finally.
“Definitely. I’ll race you up, Courf!”
“Hey, what about me?”
Combeferre looks offended at first, but Enjolras can see the smile threatening the edge of his lips and rolls his eyes before taking off after Courfeyrac.
Grantaire, Joly, Jehan (“if you even think about calling me ‘Jean’, Grantaire, I swear...”), Eponine and Bahorel are in the corner, discussing Potions and the other houses when he hears a light-hearted voice call out to another.
“Enj! Ready to sleep?”
His head snaps round and he stares at the boy who answered, listening surreptitiously to their conversation (it’s not hard, they were practically yelling) and he watches the blond take off after the other. He turns back to his friends and cuts into the conversation.
“Guys, did you see that boy over there?”
Eponine looks around and shrugs, but Bahorel nods and smiles.
“Wait, the blond or the other one?”
“The blond. I didn’t catch his name earlier.”
“Oh, he’s Enjolras. I think he’s friends with Courfeyrac and Combeferre already.”
Grantaire stares at Bahorel for a while, until his friend (friend!) goes red and looks away.
“What? So I pay attention to our classmates.”
Grantaire laughs and shakes his head.
“So, what were we talking about?”
Half an hour later, they depart for bed, Eponine leaving them at the foot of the staircase (with a kiss on the cheek, and Jehan turns so red Grantaire’s pretty sure his head could fall off at any moment)
He doesn’t stop thinking about Enjolras.
It’s fifth year, and Enjolras looks around at his friendship group. True, it hasn’t changed, exactly, more...swelled. There was Courfeyrac, and Combeferre, loyal as always, and a few new additions, including Bossuet, whom Combeferre had seen alone one day and hauled him along, claiming that nobody should be alone, this is Hogwarts!
“How long have we been friends now?”
Enjolras barks the question, and all other conversations dwindle off, which is what tends to happen when Enjolras speaks.
“All of us?”
It’s Courf, of course, Courfeyrac who has always been there. Enjolras nods at him before breaking off to stare round the other boys.
“Um, well, you and Courf and Combeferre sort of dragged me down halfway through first year...” Bossuet grins good-naturedly.
Marius looks up from his book, for once vaguely aware of his surroundings.
“Second year, after you forced me to actually speak to you in Charms.”
Enjolras frowns as Courfeyrac giggles in a very unmanly way, Marius flushing and hiding behind his novel again.
“Do I count in this question, Enj?”
Cosette swoops in from nowhere, kissing Enjolras and Courfeyrac on the cheek as she passes (they were nearest, whatever) and sits down between them, tipping Marius’ book up and grinning at him while he steadily becomes more red and fumbles in his bag for a quill pointlessly.
“Yes, you count as being part of this group by now, I should think.”
“In that case, about halfway through third year. May I ask why, o mighty leader?”
Once again, Enjolras scowls at their terms of address. Mighty leader indeed.
“I don’t know, I was just thinking about it...you know, I still don’t talk to many of the other fifth years?”
This comment is met with various exclamations.
“You mean, you’ve never talked to Jehan? But he’s just the sweetest...”
“Does that include the girls? Do you not talk to Eponine, at least?”
“But Joly is the funniest person – well, sort of accidentally funny, but still...”
“Well, I don’t speak to them much. Just thought you should know.”
They stare at him for a while, then each other. Courfeyrac has that eerie smile forming that generally means he’s got an idea, and Enjolras groans internally.
“Let’s go find them!”
It’s sixth year by now. Enjolras isn’t stupid. He understands that complaining about the curriculum to Courfeyrac probably won’t do a lot, so he decides to organise a protest group, claiming that it should contain languages, such as French (well, Beauxbatons was in France so why shouldn’t we learn it?) and Italian at least.
Within a couple of months, he has pressganged his friends into attending his weekly meetings, although as of yet they don’t have a name.
By sixth year, Enjolras knows to talk to other members of his year and has become quite friendly with some of them, and many show up to his meetings to agree and debate the cause.
It’s one such night tonight. Enjolras stands at the front of the Room of Requirement (which for some reason takes the form of a small cafe when he wants a meeting) and looks out to all the faces in there. Everyone is familiar to him; right at the front are Courfeyrac and Combeferre, his partners in crime; slightly further back are Bossuet, Marius, Cosette and Bahorel; behind them at a small table in the corner are Joly, Jehan, Eponine and Grantaire. Enjolras frowns slightly before beginning his impassioned speech.
Grantaire isn’t sure why he goes really.
No, that’s a lie. Let’s start again.
Grantaire knows perfectly well why he goes, but he’s still not sure it’s a good idea.
He can’t explain his motivation to anyone, not even Eponine, with whom he shares all his secrets, but he’s pretty sure most of them have guessed.
While he’s not actually convinced about the whole languages thing (what’s wrong with German anyway?) he has never missed a meeting.
He knows that his main reason should be the cause, because that’s why everyone’s there, right?
But how can he possibly focus on the cause when Enjolras stands at the front, looking like that?
Enjolras can’t work him out.
He’s now pretty much friends with all of Les Amis D’ABC (the name came shortly after they stuck posters to all the walls they could find that were real and stable, which were written mostly in French and had the alphabet written all around the edge) but he sees Grantaire skulking at the back of every meeting, only ever offering his opinion to counteract Enjolras’ own.
However, everytime he looks up from his notes, his eyes are drawn to Grantaire’s curls, and when he looks directly at him, Grantaire’s eyes are constantly fixed on Enjolras’ own. He doesn’t know what to make of it.
So after the next meeting, he corners Grantaire.
“Do you have a problem with me?”
Grantaire looks trapped and confused, but his eyes never leave Enjolras’.
“I...no? Have I done something to offend you?”
Enjolras stops and thinks. Well, technically no, but the constant staring is disconcerting and frankly he just wants to know what’s going on.
“I was wondering why everytime I look up you’re staring at me.”
“I...everyone’s staring at you, Enjolras, you’re the one talking.”
Enjolras looks down as if to collect his thoughts, but suddenly snaps his head up, bringing their faces closer together.
“It’s not the same, Grantaire. Everybody else is listening to what I’m saying, but you...you just seem to look more at me than the ideas.”
Enjolras watches him swallow in fascination, although he’s not sure why he’s so interested in Grantaire’s throat.
“I’m sorry if I did something wrong, Enj-”
“You see? This is what I mean, you’re always denying it and I don’t know what you mean or what you’re thinking and it’s c-”
Enjolras is cut off by Grantaire’s mouth.
He’s not quite sure what made him do it...all he knows is that Enjolras wouldn’t stop talking so he just used the quickest method to stop him.
He’d never expected this to be his reaction.
Enjolras is still for a few seconds, taking everything in, before his reflexes take over and he leans into Grantaire, returning the kiss with equal fervour. Grantaire pulls back for an instant, eyes moving rapidly over Enjolras’ face, but he swoops back in quickly enough so that Enjolras doesn’t really know what happened but he doesn’t care anymore and all he can feel is Grantaire and he thinks wow, I could stay like this forever but then Grantaire pulls back for real and Enjolras follows him a couple of inches before realising what he’s doing and snapping back.
Grantaire has never heard Enjolras quite so inarticulate but he smiles, because it’s adorable. Also wow is good, right?
“Um. Maybe that’s why I stare at you a lot?”
Enjolras just chuckles quietly before grabbing Grantaire’s tie and pulling him back in.
Eponine is sent to find them after the rest of Les Amis have been waiting for twenty minutes but she doesn’t interrupt them, just tiptoes back to the others and tells them that she thinks they’ll be a while and they needn’t wait.
Cosette hangs a little behind to wait for Eponine and sees the massive grin on her face.
Eponine just nods and keeps walking, even though Cosette has stopped in disbelief.
“Are you coming?! We’ll be late for dinner!”
Cosette shakes herself and runs back to catch up with Eponine.
“Five galleons Enjolras initiated it!”
“No way! You’re on, but don’t think you’re going to win this one!”