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Adrian Pucey arrived at the large cottage fifteen minutes early, noting that Luna had updated and extended her family’s estate. Standing beside him was his long-time friend and business partner, Marcus Flint. They’d coordinated to show up to this festival of sorts together since both were confused and intrigued by their invitation.
They knew Luna in their peripheries, but they had probably only spoken directly to her a handful of times this year. Running in the same circles can definitely constitute an invitation to a party in their culture, but the invitation had been more… friendly than that.
It had read:
You are lovingly invited to The Rook on the eve of Beltane, promptly at 7 in the evening. Magick herself has chosen you to attend, and you’ll divine the reason for that upon your engagement in the night’s festivities. Please respond back with your intention to come and whether or not you are willing to consent to a potion upon arrival and anything else Beltane might offer you. Engagement in certain activities is not required but encouraged, and bedding will be provided upon the need of it.
Both wizards had known exactly what she meant about “certain activities,” they’d grown up Purebloods and told the stories of Beltane. Hell, both of their families had used Beltane in order to try and conceive them at the same damn party, which is what made them such good friends, being so close in age.
Were they intrigued? Yes. Were they also both hoping to land a willing bird? Hell yes.
They had no idea who might be invited to this, but they didn’t much care, having heard it talked about for the last week around the Ministry and among their friends. Adrian knew Draco and company would be here, and while he wasn’t much interested in anyone from his house in the ferret’s year, he wasn’t going to knock whatever Beltane had in store for him.
But he’d taken a contraception potion just in case.
He wanted to get laid, not have a child out of wedlock.
Walking up to the door, Adrian waited while Marcus knocked. Luna greeted them in all her glory. Literally. The dress she was wearing was a see-through, floaty material that did little to leave anything to the imagination. Flower-covered bra and underwear hid the important bits — or maybe both items were just made out of flowers? Adrian didn’t know and he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask for a closer look.
“Adrian! Marcus!” Luna exclaimed. “I’m so happy both of you made it.”
Coming from anyone else, Adrian would’ve assumed they were just being nice, but he thought Luna might genuinely mean it.
“Please hang your robes over here, and this is where you will find the welcome potion,” Luna guided them inside and around her foyer. “Whenever you are ready, drink only one in a single gulp — much like a shot. Then feel free to adjust and join the rest of us out back. You aren’t the only ones who arrived early. I hope Beltane brings you both many blessings tonight.”
Luna touched both of their arms, unable to reach their shoulders at her short stature versus their looming figures. While Marcus was hulking, as wide as he was tall, Adrian was a more refined shape. Tall, but with sharp edges and only a handful to make up his muscles. He didn’t dislike himself, but he couldn’t help but notice that women tended to gravitate toward Marcus, who had more muscles than he knew what to do with.
Robes secured inside the expanded closet, Marcus and Adrian made their way over to the little table full of glowing green potions. They reminded him a little bit of absinthe, but he was sure that’s not what she was feeding them.
A raised eyebrow met another raised eyebrow, and they both picked up a vial to examine it.
“In one go, she said?” Marcus asked, sniffing the drink lightly.
“Yep,” Adrian confirmed, making the drink circle the glass.
“Here’s to Beltane,” Marcus toasted, holding his up.
Adrian clinked their vials together, “Here’s to Beltane.”
The flavour that coated his mouth and throat wasn’t one that made him cringe, but the way it suddenly sat in his stomach like a fire being stoked to life was far from pleasant. Thankfully, it only lasted a moment before creating a cooling sensation that started from his chest and bloomed outwards. It was like being punched in the sternum with peppermint.
His eyes glazed over for half a second and then everything looked normal, almost clearer than before. Except when he turned to look at Marcus.
There was a green, smoke-like mask hovering just over Marcus’s eyes and nose. Only… was it Marcus? Logically, his brain knew Marcus had been the only one in the room standing next to him, but when Adrian looked at him, it was like his identity was just there on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be confirmed.
“Marcus?” Adrian asked, and Marcus finally looked at him, reeling backwards a step.
“Adrian?” Marcus responded. “That’s you, right?”
“Yes, we were the only ones in the room, right?”
“Yes,” he confirmed.
Suddenly, the mask lifted, the disconnect between seeing and recognition finally linked once again.
“Okay, that was weird,” Adrian mused aloud.
Marcus nodded, “Very. I think we had to confirm who we were for the other so the effects of the potion could be negated.”
“Will it be like that for everyone we see tonight?” Adrian asked.
“Most likely,” Marcus shrugged, “Unless we confirm it. And maybe Luna neglected to include herself.”
“So… That means, unless we know who we are talking with, we could end up having sex with someone that we have no clue who they are, and they have no clue who we are?”
Marcus’ eyes lit up, probably much the same as his own were right now.
“That makes things… So much easier,” Marcus breathed.
Both of them had remained neutral in the war, and while it made being accepted by society again much simpler, it still didn’t earn them any favours. The Light still distrusted you until you physically admitted one way or the other your beliefs on blood prejudice. And even if you said you never believed it, they had all sorts of questions about your parents.
The newly non-followers of Voldemort envied you. They hated that the neutral families were able to save themselves from the suffering they endured—are still enduring as they try to gain back society’s favour. Adrian didn’t begrudge his fellow Hogwarts alumni this, even he had to admit, he scrapped by nearly unscathed.
Nearly.
Marcus and Adrian had returned to Hogwarts the day of the battle, getting a tip from one of the students still there. They’d done everything they could to help the Light win, but a rogue spell had landed Adrian in the hospital for weeks afterwards.
He still didn’t know which side it had come from and if it was actually meant for him or not. No one even knew it had happened until he told them, except Marcus.
Rewards and recognition were reserved for those who had been openly fighting all along.
“Let’s go see,” Adrian said, walking quickly to the door Luna had left through.
Their senses were immediately assaulted by the revelry Luna had set up in her backyard. There was a large tent covering a massive area that could only be explained by magic. The center pole held dozens of ribbons waiting to be wrapped around the center. Flowers floated, hung from the tent’s ceiling, and adorned every single table. Just on the edge of the tent, Adrian could see beds separated by clothing lines spreading out from the tent like a web. Each line had a sheet creating little cubbies for what he could only assume were arduous couples later in the evening.
Knowingly Luna and the rest of the magic she’d already used to make this tent stay up, each section probably did, in fact, feel like its own room.
Fairy lights hovered throughout, the only glittering light source Luna was using. It lit everything with a yellowish glow that just gave everything an even more ethereal presence.
Looking around, Adrian couldn’t tell who any of the guests were. He knew he knew them, their hair, their body type, their clothing choices, but names and faces sat on the tip of his tongue, no closer to giving him any of the answers he wanted.
“Make a wager?” Marcus mumbled beside him, taking everything in.
“What’re your terms?” Adrian could never resist a bet.
“I bet you the equivalent of two tickets to the next four Quidditch games, any teams of your choosing, that I recognize and confirm more identities this even than you do,” Marcus side-eyed Adrian with a smirk.
Another thing he couldn’t resist. Quidditch.