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itsapapisongo · 3 years

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NOLI TIMERE | Q. KUN

Cast: Hufflepuff!Kun and Slytherin!Gender Neutral Reader ft. Yuta, Doyoung, Ten, Jungwoo, Hendery, Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, and Chenle

Genres: Dramedy | Fluff | Fantasy

Tropes: Acquaintances to Friends | Hogwarts AU | Non-Idol AU | Slice of Life

Content Warning: Language throughout and a scene depicting a character experiencing a panic attack.

Word Count: 13.3k

Summary: Having friends in common, you and Kun have crossed paths over the years. In your sixth year, what once was an acquaintanceship slowly blooms into a friendship. And what better way to strengthen the bond than by dealing with a boggart and helping out a trio of would-be troublemakers.

Notes: Though there are references to the books and films, Noli Timere takes place in a continuity of its own. Cards on the table: this story is a messy mess and it's sort of all over the place; I started writing with a single scene in mind—confronting a boggart—and filled the gaps as I wrote around that.

Part of @danishmiilk's of witchcraft and wizardry collab

ON THE THIRD floor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in an unused classroom, something was stirring in the dark.

It stirred, unseen and unheard, until making itself comfortable within a writing desk. It found that, yes, this was comfortable, but not comfortable enough to make this its home.

And thus it stirred once more until it found an empty cabinet in a corner of the classroom. It settled there, content with its new home, glad to have found somewhere after being banished and popping back to the ether.

It couldn’t die and it was glad about that.

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THE GREAT HALL was bursting with conversations, laughter, and groggy complaints about waking up too early. Four tables, each the length of the Hall itself, were gradually becoming full as students made their way down or up from the respective common rooms. Breakfast was already served, a diverse menu that seemed never-ending and had been magically cooked with culinary expertise.

When Qian Kun entered the Great Hall, eyes cast downward as he read a leather-bound and worn copy of Magical Creatures: A Field Guide to Magizoology, he was met with a loud commotion. Unsurprisingly, the first thing he saw was Lee Ten entertaining a pair of first and second years with a particularly morbid tale about a gytrash that haunted the Hufflepuff Basement. Only one of them, a lilac-haired girl, seemed rather fascinated by the story.

“Gytrashes, you see, appear when you least expect them,” said Ten, concealing a smirk that was more devious than charming. “So beware of the—”

“What are you doing?” Kun asked, closing Magical Creatures with a dry thump. He glanced around the table and smiled at his juniors. “Don’t believe a word he says, weans.”

“There isn’t a gytrash in the common room, right?” asked one of the youths, a second year with curly hair, trying to look relieved but not quite succeeding.

“Why, I’d never tell any of you a lie.” Ten feigned outrage, a hand gently laid against his green-and-silver tie. He crossed an x on his chest and winked. “Cross my heart. . .”

Kun scoffed. “Sure, sure,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes.

The first and second years stared then seemed to loosen up as they chattered amongst themselves, discussing the probability of encountering a gytrash when they returned to the common room. Ten chuckled and followed Kun further into the Hall, walking past some third and fourth years.

“Every time I look at you, you’ve got a book underneath your arm.” Ten pointed at the book underneath Kun’s arm. “As if you didn’t know enough already.”

Kun dropped into a seat at the Hufflepuff table, opposite Kim Jungwoo.

“Reading is fundamental,” Kim Jungwoo replied, though if he was being sarcastic Ten couldn’t tell.

Jungwoo greeted both of them with a groggy smile. With one hand, he brushed his copper hair off his eyes and took a spoonful of breakfast with the other.

Ten grimaced then shrugged, sitting to Kun’s right. “If you say so,” he said and served himself some toast and juice. “So, darlings, do our paths cross over during this most auspicious day or are we destined to only glimpse at each other from afar?”

“Och,” Kun grumbled, holding back a grin. “Easy there, Billy Shakes. Don’t waste all your verbosity with the likes of us.”

“Yah!” Jungwoo whispered as he leaned forward, close enough for Kun and Ten to hear. “Did you down a shot of firewhiskey this early in the morning?”

“I wish—” Ten frowned, feigning disappointment. “—but no.”

Jungwoo examined what remained of his breakfast—slice of toast, sausage, beans—and grimaced. “Shame, innit?” he said, pouting. “I’d love a shot of firewhiskey.”

Kun half-smiled, his eyes gleaming with endearment. “You don’t drink,” he pointed out, serving himself a plate of scrambled eggs and fried tomatoes.

“Not yet, anyhow,” Jungwoo retorted, rolling his eyes. “One of these days, I hope.”

“Fingers crossed, lad,” Ten mumbled in agreement, his mouth full. “I’ll buy you your first drink. I know a guy in Hogsmeade that can fetch me a bottle of firewhiskey for a fair price.”

Kun nearly choked on a tomato. He slowly turned to Ten and raised an eyebrow, his mouth set into a thin, disapproving line.

“Smuggling now, are we?” he whispered sternly, serving himself a cup of coffee.

Ten chuckled and reached for his juice, mumbling around the rim, “Live a little, Qian.”

“Dangerously, right?” Kun tried to conceal a smile.

“Something like that.”

Ten smirked, but Kun merely shook his head. He wasn’t concealing his smile any longer, as much as he wanted to. Though they were in different houses and came from different environments, their upbringing polar opposites, they got along well and indulged in good banter. They both were clever and model students, but whereas Ten was pragmatic and keen on doing as he pleased, Kun was more by-the-book and cautious in his actions. In many ways, this difference in demeanor complimented their relationship.

Jungwoo, on the other hand, met them halfway. He was a clever chap—studious, affable—but he wasn’t exactly keen on following rules. He’d follow them up to a certain point, but he’d happily ignore them if he thought they were stupid. Which was, for the most part, almost always.

As Ten finished his breakfast and Kun served himself seconds, Jungwoo examined the new timetable with a furrowed brow.

“Who’s the madman who thought having History of Magic in the morning was a good idea?” he asked, rubbing his forehead with a groan. “I swear someone’s taking the piss.”

“It wouldn’t be Binns, though,” Kun blurted out, renewing his reading of Magical Creatures.

Jungwoo raised an eyebrow. “How come?”

Before Kun could reply, Ten answered with a cackle, “He’s a bleeding ghost, that’s why.”

“And ghosts can’t take the pish,” Kun added with a small shrug.

“If you explain the joke it doesn’t—never mind.” Ten stood up and adjusted his tie, giving the Slytherin table a cursory glance. “Well, boys, I’m off. I can see Doyoung looking all pouty. It seems he can’t live without me.”

“Modest as always.” Jungwoo snorted.

Ten winked and drained the rest of his juice. Jungwoo watched him go, chuckling to himself before returning to frown and pout at the piece of parchment before him. The timetable was depressing him.

“I just hope it’s Professor Gorski instead of that boring old ghost,” he whispered, holding his chin with the back of his palm, knuckles against his jaw. He sighed dramatically. “I might as well just skip it, don’t you think?”

Kun shrugged, eyes on his book. “Up to you,” he replied absentmindedly. “I’d skip it.”

“I’ll take that as permission to skip it then.”

“Skip what?” said the familiar voice.

“Morning, Hen.” Jungwoo’s smile was wide and reached his eyes. He pointed an idle hand at Kun and chuckled. “Mr. Qian here is telling me it’s okay to skip History of Magic.”

Huang Hendery blinked and looked between his fellow Hufflepuffs with a furrowed brow, confusion and amusement apparent in his face. “Did I hear that right?” he asked. “Is Mr. Prefect genuinely telling us to avoid taking a class?”

Kun looked up, bewildered, then realized that he had spoken out loud without meaning to. He rolled his eyes and cleared his throat, closing the book again with an exasperated flick of his wrist.

“I said I’d skip it. Not that he should,” he objected with a sigh. “And I’m not—”

“We know you know you’re not a Prefect, but you might as well be,” said Hendery, waving him off as he helped himself to a bacon croissant. “I’m still wondering why you rejected the position.”

“As much as I’d love to have more responsibilities, I’d rather not. Being a student is already an arduous endeavor.”

Jungwoo raised his eyebrows and glared at the timetable.

“You got that right enough,” he grumbled.

“What’s up with him?” Hendery asked through a mouthful of croissant.

Kun looked at Jungwoo then back at Hendery. “History of Magic,” he said plainly.

That was enough of an answer because Hendery nodded knowingly, leaned forward, and reached across the table to gently pat Jungwoo’s wrist. Jungwoo, seemingly distraught, pouted and rested his forehead on Hendery’s hand, who kept eating as though he didn’t mind the gesture.

“What else do you have for today?” asked Hendery, giving the piece of parchment in Jungwoo’s hand a cursory glance.

Jungwoo sighed and read through his timetable. “Potions on my second period. Divination on the fourth and—oh, daebak—Defense Against the Dark Arts after that.”

“Day doesn’t sound that bad.”

“It does seem to get progressively better.” Jungwoo’s pout softened into a half-smile.

“There you go, dear,” said Kun, taking a sip from his coffee. “Aren’t you glad there’s always a silver lining?”

“Sometimes,” Jungwoo and Hendery chorused.

They exchanged a glance and laughed. They were still in the same position—Hendery leaning with his hand extended, Jungwoo resting his forehead against it—and seemed to be okay with that. Kun, who hadn’t noticed, looked up and frowned out of confusion but immediately wrote it off as normal behavior between the two.

“I’m off,” he told them, patting Hendery’s back.

Hendery raised both eyebrows, munching loudly. His hair—bubblegum pink with blond highlights—was parted in the middle and covered half of face. “Off to where?”

A smile spread across Kun’s face. He tapped the spine of his back and nodded towards the Great Hall’s entrance.

“Care of Magical Creatures,” he replied. “See you when I see you.”

Hendery and Jungwoo waved back, still sort of leaning on each other from across the table.

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THOUGH IT HAD rained the previous day, the grounds looked green and fresh. The sky was clear—a nice blue hue with a handful of clouds drifting by—and the grass was springy and damp underfoot as you went down the sloping lawns that led to Rubeus Hagrid’s hut.

The small wooden cabin, which was on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, had been gradually renovated over the years. A puff of greyish-black smoke rose from the chimney and was softly being blown towards the forest by a passing breeze.

As you neared the hut, you spotted two faces ahead of you talking with a Hufflepuff you’d often seen but had never quite made conversation with. Qian Kun—handsome, sheepish smile, big-brained, Mr. Almost-A-Prefect—was smiling and nodding at something Ten was saying whereas Doyoung seemed unfazed, as if he’d rather be somewhere else. It was then that you realized that you and the rest of the Slytherins would be having lessons with the Hufflepuffs.

When you approached them, Kun whispered something to Doyoung, who was now doing his best not to crack a smile. Ten openly cackled, clapping his thighs not before giving Kun’s shoulder a mighty shove. You could only wonder what they were talking about.

“Lads,” you said, standing between Ten and Doyoung.

Doyoung’s nod was subtle. “Alright?”

You nodded back and offered a small smile. Kun smiled back while Ten pulled a face and mockingly stuck out his tongue.

“As alright as one can be,” you replied, nudging Ten’s side with your elbow.

“Cool, cool.” Doyoung stared then looked away, distracted by Hagrid stepping out of the hut. “At least he’s wearing something new.”

Ten fixed his gaze forward and snorted. “Not too shabby, eh?”

Kun’s eyes lingered a second too long on you before he turned to look at your professor, who was waiting for the class at the door of his hut. Rubeus Hagrid was twice the size of a man and three times as wide with a long mane of greying black hair and a thick beard that seemed almost impossible to shave or comb. Though he was in his late eighties, only the lines around his dark eyes seemed to indicate he was no longer in his prime.

Hagrid stood in a moleskin overcoat, but it was a new one—light brown instead of black—and wore it proudly as he glanced at it every so often as if waiting for a compliment.

“Good mornin’, ev’ryone!” he called as his class approached. “How’s ev’ryone doin’ on this fine mornin’?”

There were enthusiastic and groggy greetings, but nothing that Hagrid could respond to without asking for everyone to repeat themselves. You noticed he was beaming by the glint of his dark eyes. You always thought they looked like black beetles.

“Got a real treat fer yeh today!” Hagrid clapped his enormous hands and motioned the class to follow him with a wave. “If everyone’s here, we should get a move on.”

The class followed Hagrid as he strolled off around the edges of the tree. Five minutes or so later, you found yourself staring at a square paddock where a dozen of plump, fluffy-feathered birds were pleasantly chirping.

“I reckon they’re supposed to be cute,” said Doyoung.

You scoffed. “They’re cute.”

Doyoung shook his head, curling his lips. “I beg to differ.”

“What are they, though?” Ten stood on the ball of his feet, unconsciously pulling a face that was a mixture of curiosity and disgust.

“These,” Hagrid answered, pointing a finger at the flightless birds, “are Diricawls.”

Most of the class, you included, awed as they observed the wee birds. They seemed like cuter relatives of the dodo, though there was something about the way they moved and chirped that told you differently. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Kun approaching the paddock cautiously; not like he was hesitating but rather being aware and considerate of the Diricawls’ personal space.

Hagrid clapped, startling some of the students. “Gather ‘round ‘ere,” he called, looking over his class to make sure everyone had joined him around the paddock. “Can any of yeh tell me what these little critters are?”

“Dunno, but they look like dodos,” said a Slytherin girl.

“Eh?” Hagrid chuckled, rubbing his hands together. “Close but no’ quite.”

“They can vanish at will,” said a manly yet gentle voice.

You turned to see Kun leaning forward, waving a hand over the paddock’s fence to catch the attention of four birdlings. He was beaming, his eyes glinting with interest. The birds approached without hesitation and gave little jumps, trying to peck the tip of his fingers.

“They just—poof—disappear and reappear elsewhere,” Kun added with a half-smile, standing straight to face Hagrid. “Sort of like Apparating but on a smaller scale.”

“Very well said, Mr. Qian.” Hagrid gave an enthusiastic nod. “An’ since they pop’n an’ out of place, Muggles confused them fer the dodo bird an’ thought they were extinct.”

“Bunch of dafties,” said a voice from the crowd, chuckling.

Someone cleared their throat behind you and you didn’t have to turn to know that it had been Doyoung. You glanced over your shoulder to see him cross his arms and narrow his eyes at a lanky, greasy-haired Hufflepuff boy.

“Do you get paid for snide comments like that, McDade?” Doyoung’s voice was low, his tone laced with vitriol. He spoke loud enough for McDade to hear but not so much that Hagrid or anyone else but you and Ten could hear. “Or do you wake up and decide to be a prick for free?”

McDade sneered. “Shut it, Kim.”

“How about we act like civilized people and pay attention to Hagrid?” You took a step forward so that you occupied the space between McDade and Doyoung. You were doing your best not to grit your teeth or glare. “It’s that or me stunning the both of youse so that I can have some peace and quiet during the rest of the lesson.”

“Ball’s in your court,” Ten intoned with a mischievous smirk.

“Prick,” said McDade, glaring over his shoulder.

“Cu—” Doyoung began but didn’t finish when you elbowed his side. “What?”

“Everythin’ alrigh’ over there?” Hagrid asked, his brow furrowed.

“Yes, professor,” you answered before anyone could open their mouths and dig a hole deeper than the Black Lake. “Just commenting on how adorable they look.”

Hagrid turned to the paddock. It seemed he was grinning because his beard twitched upward, reaching his eyes. “Aye, they’re adorable alrigh’,” he conceded with a nod. He opened the paddock and stepped in. “Righ’ then, here’s what we’re gonna do. Yeh’ve got ter feed them without havin’ them vanish in front of yeh.”

The class exchanged looks. You chuckled when you heard Ten groan and saw Doyoung pull a face, which was a mixture between exasperation and displeasure. They obviously weren’t keen, but you were.

Something caught your eye as the class began to follow Hagrid. That’s when you saw Kun briefly stop to talk with Changkyun. They were taking off their robes, folding them, and putting them on their school bags, which they left hanging on the paddock’s fence.

“Yah! Kun-ge!”

You flinched as an ash-blond haired bloke—Jinjin, what a surprise—walked past you, waved at Kun, then joined him by the paddock’s entrance. They greeted each other with a smile and a fist-bump as Kun rolled up his sleeves up to his elbows.

Intrigued, you followed behind them and noticed two things. Firstly, there were visible scars on each of Kun’s forearms, some were small scratches and the others were blemishes that had once been deep slashes. And, secondly, they were talking about Quidditch. The way Jinjin motioned he was smacking something away on top of a broom gave it away.

Typical. You found yourself wondering, by the way Jinjin was leaning and squeezing Kun’s bicep, if Jinjin was doing his best to convince Kun to try out for Hufflepuff’s Quidditch team.

“Are you going to get a move on or are you going to stand there, making googly eyes at him?”

“Huh?” You blinked and felt Doyoung’s gaze upon you, bringing forth a sense of embarrassment and annoyance. “Making eyes at who? What are you on about?”

“You just—” Doyoung widened his eyes and titled his head. The droopy stare he had put on conveyed the image of someone being absentminded or easily distracted. One could even say it was a look of blatant infatuation. “—dozed off.”

“I didn’t—”

Doyong raised a hand that hovered inches from your face. Through his fingers, you saw him shake his head and smile that annoying half-smile of his that indicated he was both judging and mocking you. He leaned in and hooked his arm to yours, dragging you towards the paddock as the rest of the class joined Hagrid inside it.

“Do you fancy him?” Doyoung inquired with a raised eyebrow. The question came across not as malicious but curious; you could tell he was genuinely interested in your answer. “To be fair, even I fancy him a bit. He’s quite the looker, y’know?”

Where was the lie? He was right and you knew it. Kun, whom you had seen time and time again from a distance and a handful of others up close, was but an acquaintance to you. Over the course of your past five—now going on six—years at Hogwarts, you’d always felt the desire to befriend him but never had the courage to do so.

And it was strange that you hadn’t. He and Ten were inseparable. Doyoung even had dated, however briefly, Kun’s half-sister, Astrid, and you and her were on good terms.

Kun never failed to be polite and affable. He’d always greet you with a smile and nod. As reserved and shy as he was whenever Ten or Doyoung were absent, he’d make an effort to make small talk. If there was something you appreciated about him was the fact that he always waved whenever you saw each other in the corridor.

Such gestures installed a sense of familiarity, of comfort, whenever you saw him. So, no, you didn’t fancy him as much as you were intrigued by him. Everything he did, he did so passionately. And he was nowhere more passionate than when he was around Hagrid or magical creatures.

“He seems like the type of bloke you’d have a drink with,” you replied and did your best not to roll your eyes when Doyoung snorted mid-chuckle. While he enjoyed himself, you chose to change the subject. “You reckon you can feed a Diricawl without it disappearing on you?”

Doyoung grimaced. “I don’t think I can touch one, let alone feed one,” he retorted. “So I sincerely doubt it.”

“Ah!” It was your turn to poke him. “That’s the spirit, boyo!”

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DOYOUNG WAS RIGHT. He didn’t touch a single Diricawl nor did he manage to feed one. In the end, he gave up and settled with gleefully seeing Ten cringe whenever a Diricawl came close to their little corner of the paddock.

You managed to feed two of them. It took you half the lesson to do so but you got the hang of it. Granted, Kun intervened and lent a helping hand; it had been both kind of him and mesmerizing to witness. He was immensely patient not only with you but with anyone else that called him to help them.

By the end of the lesson, Kun had essentially fed all the Diricawls by proxy. He didn’t seem to mind, especially since most of the class—with the obvious exception of Ten and Doyoung—managed to do what Hagrid had tasked them with for the day’s lesson.

“Yeh’ve done a fine job,” Hagrid announced, clapping his hands so enthusiastically that two or three Diricawls vanished in a puff of feathers. “Some of yeh need to loosen up a bit an’ get in there. Participatin’ in the lesson’s important, yeh know?”

No one responded, though several people nodded and mumbled under their breaths.

“Alrigh’,” said Hagrid, sighing. “That’s enough fer today. Be prepared fer our next lesson. We’ll be discussin’ and handlin’ Mokes.”

You tilted your head, curious. Mokes? It sounded familiar but you couldn’t remember why. You’d have to look them up later. Hagrid waved the class goodbye as he opened the paddock’s gate and kept an eye on the Diricawls, making sure none of them were trudged on or sneaked out by mingling with the crowd.

Looking up, that passionate smile of his present in his face, Kun was saying something to Hagrid. You noticed his sleeves were still rolled up, noticed the veins and the scars and the dirt that smudged his skin. For whatever reason, you couldn’t look away. He always wore long sleeves, even when wearing casual clothing.

A second before you looked away, you and Kun made eye contact. You weren’t surprised to meet his gaze, sure, but you immediately looked away with a hitched groan that remained lodged in your throat. Without looking at Kun, you walked past him and joined the rest of the Slytherins as they filed out of the paddock.

On your way out, you thanked Hagrid for the lesson. Who thanked their teachers for a lesson? Apparently, no one but you. Oh well. C’est la vie, right? Hagrid had chuckled and thanked you, sounding a tad emotional and grateful as he closed the paddock behind himself. That was nice, you thought. To have a teacher that was still passionate not about the subject but imparting it to his students.

“Hey,” you heard Kun call after you and suddenly you didn’t know whether to stop or sprint up the sloping lawns without looking back.

You preferred it if you didn’t turn back.

You turned back.

“Hey,” you repeated with a small nod, sounding sheepish. “Alright?”

Kun was smiling a shy, friendly smile. “Are you in a hurry?”

“No—er—not really.”

“Mind if I walk with you?”

“Er—” you blinked, looked at the class walking up the lawns, then shrugged. “—not really, no.”

He nodded. “Magic,” he exclaimed, shouldering his school bag. “After you, then.”

You walked together in silence for about a minute or two when you decided to just break the ice.

“That was a—uh—that was a nice lesson.”

“It’s not every day that you get to feed and dote on vanishing wee birds, huh?” Kun sniggered, rolling down and smoothing his shirt’s sleeves. “They’re adorable.”

“Funny, too.” You smiled. “I wonder where they go when they vanish.”

“Somewhere nice, I hope.” Kun gave a small nod as he tilted his head in consideration. “I imagine they have a wee kip before—pop—reappearing, but the truth is they don't go that far.”

You agreed with a slight tilt of your head, as if to say fair point. “Sounds nice.”

“Must be nice.”

Silence. Until—

“I wonder how we’ll deal with the Mokes,” said Kun. He sounded truly fascinated. “They’re, y’know, skittish.”

“Oh, yes, skittish.”

Kun chuckled but quickly cleared his throat. He was looking at you, not mockingly or unkindly, but fondly. You didn’t know what to make of that.

“You don’t know what a Moke is, do you?”

“I do. Pfft. Of course—” You paused, blinked, then shook your head. “No. I don’t have a bloody clue what a Moke is.”

“They’re essentially lizards. Not that big or that small.”

“And what’s the catch?” You raised an eyebrow and pointed at a thumb at the paddock that was now behind both of you. “Diricawls essentially Apparate.”

“They shrink,” Kun replied with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “Mokes, that is.”

“They—” You blinked, impressed at and weirded out by the concept of shrinking lizards. If they could shrink at will, then it stood to reason that they could also return to their original size. “Wait, are you telling me that Mokes are choranaptyxic?”

“Bingo, they’re—” Kun paused, looking absolutely gobsmacked. A bright smile spread across his face and reached his eyes, crinkling them. He looked down at his feet then turned to you with a glint of delight in his eyes. “Mokes are chrono—corona—no, nae chance.” He snorted. “I can’t pronounce it.”

You shrugged one shoulder. “Don’t worry. It took me ages to say it right.”

Kun sighed. “It might take me an eternity then.”

“Hopefully not.” You shook your head and gently, but unconsciously patted his shoulder. “I mean if you can feed vanishing dodo birds. . .”

Kun sniggered and whispered, “Magic.”

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YOU THOUGHT FREE periods would be, well, free of responsibility.

How wrong you were. Anything Ten said should never be taken at face value. Who would have thought that within a few weeks of your sixth year starting, you’d be overwhelmed by the vast amount of homework you were being set with?

No one, you supposed. Certainly not you.

Once or twice you thought about simply wandering into the Forbidden Forest in the middle of the night and vanishing without a trace. It was a morbid yet recurring notion that you cringed at. And to think you called Doyoung dramatic.

You constantly took notes during lessons and made frequent visits to the library. It wasn’t necessary, but it helped ease that anxious feeling that overwhelmed you every so often. It made you feel on top of things since most classes, even those you excelled at, were frustrating you. Whereas Potions nauseated you, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Transfiguration left you mentally and physically exhausted. The less you said about Divination and Ancient Runes the better.

As a sixth year, nonverbal spells were expected and routinely practiced in and out of the classroom. It wasn’t unusual to see classmates—in the common room or at mealtimes or free periods—groaning and mumbling expletives under their breaths after each failed attempt at wordless magic.

For about two weeks, the Slytherin Dungeon echoed with the faint mumbling of exasperated classmates while they waved their wands wordlessly and hopelessly expected results. Most of the time, nothing happened. In the rare occasion that they managed to perform magic, the spell either backfired or something else entirely occured.

(Several people—including Doyoung and a second year—had to go to the infirmary due to the effects of spells and charms gone wrong. Doyoung, for example, had somehow managed to conjure freckles all over his face. The second year, Chenle, was the victim of a stray spell; he ended up growing a thick, white beard that reached past his knees.)

Due to the enormous workload and long, often frantic hours of writing essays, memorizing runes, and practicing magic, you had been unable to even consider joining Slytherin’s Quidditch team. It’s not like you were going to actually do it, but it had been in your mind ever since Yuta had suggested—then asked—you several times to go to the tryouts.

But, as Kun usually said, nae chance.

Surprisingly enough, in spite of everyone being far too focused or overwhelmed by homework and their lessons, Kun had found time to mingle with Doyoung and Ten. Which, to your surprise, meant he also “mingled” with you. It began with both of you discussing schoolwork until it transitioned into shared interests, such as discussing magical creatures, counter-charms, and defensive spells.

You even talked about your future. Whereas Kun yearned to be a Magizoologist, you had simpler ambitions and yearned to finish this school year.

It was a Saturday morning when you’d asked Kun to help you with an essay for Professor Tablo’s Charm lesson. Truth was, you didn’t need help and simply wanted to spend some time with him. You were in the library, which was surprisingly full of people for such a sunny day.

“Chin up,” Kun mumbled absentmindedly, skimming through on an old copy of Silentium: A Handbook for Nonverbal Magic. He was reviewing some notes he had written in a notebook.

You nodded with a groan, stretching your hands above your head. You shifted in your chair, feeling your arse numb after an hour and half of sitting. Half an hour more and you’d call it an afternoon. Until then, though, you had to pretend to be studying and not indulging in patter with Kun.

“Chin up, eyes forward.” You drawled, rubbing the bridge of your nose. You heard him chuckle and looked up to meet his gaze. He was looking at you with a glint of endearment in his eyes. “That’s wha—that’s what you said, innit?”

He nodded. “That’s what I said, aye.” He turned to his book, continued scribbling on his notebook. “You’ll get through this.”

“Don’t you mean we’ll get through this?”

“Och, alright, sure.” He nodded and playfully rolled his eyes. “We’ll get through this.”

You winked and gave him a thumbs-up. “That’s the spirit, boyo.”

Kun raised a fist above his head and shook it, the gesture one of agreement and encouragement.

“Hwaiting!” he exclaimed, but shrunk and winced immediately when he noticed he had startled the quartet of girls sitting opposite you and was being glared at by Madam Pince. “Sorry,” he apologized in a small, almost wheezy voice. “Didnae meant to make a ruckus.”

Madam Pince appeared next to them, having approached the table to simply glare at both of you. It was then that you noticed that age hadn’t done her any favors. She looked like an underfed vulture that hadn’t seen better days because it had never had better days.

As you decided to intervene, she humphed and said in a shrill, nasal voice, “And yet here you are making a ruckus.”

Kun offered a sheepish grin. “Aye. My bad.”

“I don’t need to remind both of you that the library is reserved solely for study lessons and not for chatting or mucking about or—” She paused, looking aghast at Kun as he began closing his books and putting them away in his school bag. “Am I boring you?”

You snorted and looked away, hoping that the stern librarian wouldn’t chastise you. If she noticed your outburst, she didn’t show it. Kun, who was doing his best not to laugh, opened his mouth to reply but closed it as soon as a witty remark popped in his head. He briefly frowned and cleared his throat then turned to Madam Pince and gave her a smile so charming that you thought for a second the old hag would melt. The librarian’s lips twitched as Kun stood up and shouldered his school bag.

“No, ma’am, you aren’t. I just prefer to study elsewhere so as to not bother anyone,” he answered and bowed respectfully. He glanced at you through his periphery and gave you a small nod. “Coming with?”

“Er—” You blinked, eyes wide, caught between laughter and embarrassment. “Sure, I’ll come with.”

“Madam Pince.” Kun bowed his head and walked past her. “Always a pleasure.”

“Boy,” she said, unconsciously bowing her head. “Always—er—likewise.”

Both of you walked past her, eyes on the ground. The moment you reached the library’s entrance and stepped into the corridor, both of you started laughing. Kun’s laugh was laced with self-deprecation and you found that rather winsome. He had doubled over and leaned on a column, his shoulder shaking and his laugh echoing in the corridor. Whereas he laughed openly, you clasped a hand on your mouth to cover your amusement; it didn’t make it any easier or helped you not indulge in the moment, it only exacerbated your sniggering.

“Och, she’s terrifying,” said Kun, red in the face. “That—that old—”

“That old what?” you managed to blurt out in between breaths.

“I cannae—” He cleared his throat and shook his head. When he spoke, his accent was audibly less pronounced. “I cannot say it. It’s too mean.”

“What, calling her a hag? It wouldn’t be mean. It would be stating facts.”

He gaped at you then slowly turned towards the library’s entrance. “Hush, now,” he whispered, half-smiling. “She might hear you.”

You snorted. “That would mean she hears like a bloody bat.”

“She might as well.” He sniffed, wiping tears from his tears with the back of his hand. He stretched and adjusted the bag that loosely hung from his shoulder. “Dunno about you but I’m starving.”

“Your treat?”

Kun patted his pockets and wiggled his eyebrows. “I’ve got a few galleons on me.”

“Your treat it is, then.”

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ON THE THIRD floor, in an unused classroom, three third years—a Gryffindor, a Ravenclaw, and a Slytherin—wandered in. They were discussing who was going to open and set off the Rocket Box the Gryffindor had bought off from a fifth year.

The trio was unaware that in the empty cabinet by a corner of the classroom something had been stirred awake by their patter. It didn’t like visitors, especially when it had been resting and minding its own business.

“I bought it!” exclaimed the Griffyindor, Jeno, pulling the Rocket Box off the Ravenclaw’s hand. “Therefore I get to open it and set it off.”

The Ravenclaw, Renjun, scoffed. “Remind me again who gave you half the money to buy it?”

“Good for both of you, but I can’t be arsed,” said the Slytherin, Donghyuck, flicking Jeno’s forehead and taking the box off him. “I just want to see these go off.”

Jeno rubbed his forehead and shot daggers at Donghyuck. Renjun, on the other hand, was rolling his eyes and groaning.

“I know how we can settle this dilemma.” Renjun rolled up his jumper’s sleeves and balled his hand into a fist. “Rock paper scissors.”

“Ugh.” Donghyuck rolled his eyes, tongue in cheek. “Fine.”

Renjun glared. “Oh shut it, you prat.”

“Can we just do this and set off the fireworks?” Jeno lifted his head to groan and stare at the ceiling. He mumbled a string of complaints and expletives before facing the other two. “Hands up.”

“Hands up,” Renjun and Donghyuck chorused.

Rocks.

Paper.

Scissors.

“What a load of—” Jeno complained, though didn’t finish when Renjun glared at him. “Tosh. Load of tosh. I wasn’t going to say anything—er—vulgar.”

“Pity, I would have enjoyed a nice fuck out of you,” said Donghyuck, feigning disappointment not before showing a wicked smirk.

“That doesn’t sound right.”

Donghyuck wiggled his eyebrows. “Maybe to you. Sounds alright to me.”

“Yah!” Renjun smacked Donghyuck’s shoulder. “Let’s settle this already.”

“Hit me again and I’ll hex you—” Donghyuck reached for his wand, but he felt someone holding the hand in his robe’s left pocket. He slowly turned to glare at Jeno and was torn between pushing him off himself or smacking Renjun with his free hand. The Gryffidnor’s grip on his forearm was getting a little tight for his taste. “Let go, you Samoyed-looking prick.”

“Did you just compare me to a dog?”

“So the whole prick thing just—” Renjun motioned something going over his head, baffled. “—doesn’t bother you? Doesn’t even register, eh?”

Donghyuck sniggered. “Daftie.”

“Samoyed?” Jeno blinked, confused. “Do I really look like a—”

A rattling sound startled them. The three of them turned to the cabinet on a dark corner of the classroom. It was old, battered, and brown; someone had scratched their names and several lewd limericks on its surface.

“What—what was that?” Jeno’s face contorted with fear, his eyes almost nonexistent.

“Aren’t Gryffindors supposed to be brave?” Renjun narrowed his eyes, relented from smacking Jeno in the back of the head.

“Apparently not.” Donghyuck raised an eyebrow, eyeing Jeno up and down and shaking his head. “So much for bravery, determination, and chivalry.”

The Gryffindor deflated. “Aren’t any of you going to let me be or are you going to take the piss?”

“Take the piss.” The Slytherin scoffed. “Duh.”

The cabinet rattled once again, followed by the scratching of sharp claws against wood. They could hear a low, ominous lowing akin to that of a beast that was awakening after a long slumber. Renjun and Donghyuck exchanged a look and pulled their wands. Jeno remained a few steps behind, Rocket Box in one hand and his wand in the other.

“Lumos,” Renjun whispered and the tip of his wand lit up.

Donghyuck and Jeno averted their eyes as Renjun shone a bright light across the classroom. Besides an empty desk, the cabinet, a pile of dusty books, and six writing desks, there was nothing else to look at. It didn’t make this place any less unsettling, though. With every step they took, the cabinet rattled. By the time they stood about four steps away from it, the damn thing had stopped moving; the eerie lowing, on the other hand, hadn’t stopped.

Renjun hesitated. “Are we sure this is a good idea?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“We were about to set off fireworks in a classroom.” Donghyuck shrugged. “You tell me.”

Renjun lifted his chin, nodding at the Gryffindor. “Jeno?”

“Is this a terrible idea?” he blinked, then nodded. “Yes, it is.”

“Say no more.” Donghyuck aimed his wand at the cabinet. “Alohomora.”

The cabinet’s lock clicked, its door slowly creaked itself open. For a brief second, they stood there looking at a dark, empty cabinet until they were all pushed back by a rush of hot air. Donghyuck, who had been the closest to the cabinet, landed on top of Renjun. The Ravenclaw collapsed under the weight of his legs, dragging Jeno along with him to the ground.

“Is everyone okay?” Renjun asked mid-groan.

“No—” Jeno began, but found himself speechless.

Crack!

Before him, unfolding like a curtain, was black cloak that didn’t quite touch the ground. It glided slowly, ominously, towards Jeno. He screamed, his eyes wide with fear, but the cloak changed directions the moment Donghyuck stood up; it immediately focused on him. The Slytherin had a fraction of a second to see the cloak twist into itself, like a ball, then—crack!— turn into a large beast with a low-slung body covered in thick reddish-brown hair with five legs, each one ending in a clubfoot.

“QUINTAPED!” Donghyuck yelped at the top of his lungs. He aimed his wand at it, prepared himself to defend himself but he was screaming so loud that he couldn’t hear himself say the incantation. “Stu—Stupef—!”

Donghyuck couldn’t pry his eyes away from the quintaped’s simian-like face as it bore its fangs and tried to bite his right leg. Panicked but not completely petrified by fear, he kicked one of the quintaped’s legs then used another to push himself away from it. In the split second that it took him to put some distance between himself and the beast, he blindly reached out for Jeno or Renjun but found himself empty-handed.

“Jeno—Renjun—where are you?” Donghyuck yelped, his eyes clenched closed. He outstretched his hand, aimed his wand forward, and uttered, “Lumos!”

A ball of white-hot light burned on the tip of his wand. The quintaped, momentarily blinded, turned away from Donghyuck. He heard the beast snarl and squeal until he couldn’t hear it anymore.

The next sound that echoed in the classroom was that of Renjun cursing in Mandarin, followed by a low, almost hollow hiss. Donghyuck opened his eyes to see Renjun helping Jeno off his feet, wand leveled at a lanky, stiff-looking man clad in an indigo tang-suit and trousers. It wasn’t a man, Donghyuck realized, but a living corpse with fangs like those of a vampire. The man’s countenance wasn’t only pallid but in a state of decomposition; it was sort of green, as if mold had bloomed across his flesh.

It was a jiangshi, and it was Renjun’s worst fear. Donghyuck knew because he had teased him with a particular story about how his uncle had encountered one and lived to tell the tale. The whole story was utter bunkum, but this . . . this felt too real.

It was a quintaped a second ago, Donghyuck thought, and now it’s a bloody vampire?

And then it hit him. This thing—this shapeshifting terror—was a boggart.

“Back off, you spooky bastard!” Renjun yelped, his voice quivering. Though his hand was shaking, his resolve was unwavering. “Back off or—er—just—”

“It’s a boggart!” Donghyuck rose to his feet and closed the distance between his friends and the jiangshi. “Don’t stun it!”

“Don’t stun it?” Jeno blurted out, face contorted in confusion and exasperation.

Renjun cackled. “I suppose you’d like us to ask him to stop being a spooky prick!”

“You don’t stun boggarts, you idiot.” Donghyuck pushed Renjun back. He raised his wand above his head, unconsciously taking a dramatic, if impractical pose. “You laugh at them.”

“HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO LAUGH AT THAT!” Renjun exclaimed, his legs turning to jelly.

“Riddi—” Donghyuck began but found the incantation stuck in his throat.

Since he and Jeno were protecting Renjun, essentially creating a barrier between themselves and the boggart-jiangshi, the shapeshifting terror was now focused on two new victims and couldn’t choose on which one to terrify first. The boggart made an inhuman shriek as it twisted into several shapes, never quite settling on something.

When one of them shouted “RUN!”, they sprinted out of the classroom without a second to spare. The last thing they heard as the door closed behind Donghyuck was a hoarse, cold cackle. On the ground, crumpled and forgotten, the Rocket Box lay unopened.

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YOU AND KUN heard the commotion before you almost stumbled upon them.

A pair of third years—a Gryffindor, a Ravenclaw, and a Slytherin—ran out of a classroom, scared out of their wits: pale in the face, holding onto each other, wands tightly gripped in their hands as they looked over their shoulders.

You recognized one of them—dirty-blond, tan skin, handsome if mischievous face—and tugged on Kun’s arm, nodding your head in the third years’ direction. Though Kun frowned and seemed unsure, he immediately broke into a sprint. You followed, impressed not only by how fast he was but how quickly he assessed the situation. His stride was purposeful, like that of a father intervening to keep their children out of harm’s way.

“CLOSE IT—CLOSE IT—DON’T LET IT OUT!” shouted one of them, the Ravenclaw with two-toned hair, waving his hand in the direction of the classroom’s door. “CLOSE IT—”

“I heard you the first twelve times!” the Slytherin, the lad you knew, retorted with a roll of his eyes. He aimed his wand at the door then lowered it, looking shamefaced. “I don’t know the spell to lock the bloody door.”

“Colloportus!” Kun exclaimed, wand out. There was a loud click followed by something slamming on the other side. He looked at the door then at the third years. “Is everyone alright?”

“NO!” the trio answered in unison.

Kun suppressed a chuckle. “Good to know,” he said. “So if you’re alright, I reckon we—” he pointed at himself and you, “—can go on our merry way?”

“No, please, don’t—” the Gryffindor muttered, shaking his head.

The Ravenclaw gave the door a terrified glance over his shoulder. “There’s a bloody jiangshi in that bloody classroom—”

“It’s not a bloody jiangshi!” snapped the Slytherin, doing his best to look brave as he turned to you. “It’s a boggart!”

“Did you banished it?” You asked, infusing your voice with warmth.

The Slytherin scoffed. “Sure, we banished it!” he retorted. “That’s why we ran out there with our heads held high and definitely not screaming our bloody heads off!”

“All three of you saw it?”

You saw the boy turn to Kun and immediately deflate as all traces of fear and exasperation were instead replaced with relief. The Ravenclaw was still shaking. The Gryffindor held his hand and rested his head on the other’s shoulder.

“We did,” said the Slytherin.

“And, lo and behold, here you are.” Kun nodded. “Which means you did something right.”

“We ran!” exclaimed the Gryffindor, his voice laced with embarrassment.

Kun shrugged. “Nothing wrong with that,” he replied, his voice gentle and infused with empathy. “And besides—” he made sure to make eye contact and smile, “—it’s best to face a boggart accompanied than on your own.”

“It confuses them,” you added with a nod.

“Aye.” Kun pointed a finger in your direction, gave a small nod, then clicked his tongue. The third years softened at the gesture, looking less tense and scared. He outstretched his hand, shaking each of the third years’ hands. “I’m Qian Kun.”

You smiled and introduced yourself. The boys nodded then gave the door a cursory, if horrified glance.

“What are your names?”

“Lee Jeno,” said the Gryffindor.

“Huang Renjun,” said the Ravenclaw

“Lee Donghyuk,” said the Slytherin.

Kun beamed at them. “Pleasure to meet you.” He glanced at the door, his eyes narrowed. “Is it still there?”

The third years kept their eyes on Kun as they nodded. You found it amusing how in sync they were.

“Good.”

“Good?” Donghyuck’s face was one of disbelief. “How’s that good?”

“Because you already softened the boggart for us,” you explained, giving Kun a side glance but he wasn’t looking at you. “Right, Kun?”

“Absolutely! Nae danger!” he exclaimed, nodding with crinkled eyes. “We’ll handle it.”

“We can help,” squeaked Jeno.

Renjun narrowed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. “We just ran out of there, our tail between our legs, and you think we’d be of help,” he whispered in a hoarse voice. “Come off it.”

“You want to help?”

“Not really, no,” Donghyuck mumbled, unconsciously. His eyes widened when he realized you were staring at him. He cleared his throat and offered what he thought was a sheepish smile but it was in fact rather impish. “Sorry.”

Kun’s smile didn’t falter as he stood to his full height. “Shall we?” he asked, turning to you, wand at the ready.

“Let’s,” you replied, nodding.

“What can we do?” asked Jeno, his voice varying in pitch.

“What can you do?” Kun raised an eyebrow in consideration. “You could wait for us in the Great Hall.”

Donghyuck made a face. “What for?”

“I recommend getting some chocolate. It’ll calm your nerves.”

“We could—” Jeno began but didn’t finish when Renjun took him and Donghyuck by the wrists and began to pull them away.

“We’ll meet you there,” said the Ravenclaw with a nod.

“Magic!” You heard yourself say and found yourself surprised. Though Kun didn’t face you, you noticed that he was grinning. “I mean—er—yeah, we’ll see you in a bit.”

The trio scurried away. You could hear them bickering amongst themselves until you couldn’t and you were left alone with Kun. There was minimal movement on the corridor, which meant you wouldn’t come across another student or staff member that often.

“Have you ever dealt with a boggart before?” you asked him, aware that the two occasions you had had to confront a boggart it had been under the school’s premises surrounded by fellow classmates and instructed by an adult.

“I have,” he replied in a soft voice, his tone matter-of-fact.

You nodded, pouting with an impressed nod and a tilt of your head.

“Out of school?” you added.

Kun chortled. “Where else?” he glanced at you over your shoulder, beaming. “There are several boggarts in the reservation. One of them hid under Astrid’s bed before she banished it.”

You shuddered, then caught on what he had said.

Did he just say—

“Reservation?”

“Huh?” Kun’s left hand was around the doorknob, halfway through opening the door. He gaped then realized what you meant. “Oh, right. I’ve spent the last three summers at a wildlife reservation for endangered creatures.”

You remembered he had mentioned his mum was a dragonologist and that his da—actually, his stepfather—was a herbologist. No wonder he was so passionate.

“There are dragons, snidgets, phoenixes, occamies, graphorns. . .” Kun trailed off, slowly stepping into the classroom. He faltered and seemed to take a step backwards only to disappear through the dark door frame. “This is downright chilling,” you heard his voice bounce off the classroom’s walls. “Lumos.”

You entered the classroom and saw him standing in the center of the classroom, which looked like something had torn it apart. Desks had been tossed across the room and were pulverized; a desk had been split into two, and a pile of books had seemingly caught fire. The only piece of furniture that remained intact was an old and battered cabinet.

Kun slowly turned to you, feigning uncertainty. “Place looks deserted,” he said loudly, nodding his head towards the cabinet. “It seems those third years were just mucking about and scared themselves.”

You took careful steps towards the cabinet. While Kun walked across and scrutinized the right side of the classroom, you took the left.

“There’s nothing here,” you intoned, chuckling and quickly glancing at Kun. Though you weren’t scared, you were still cautious.

“Seems like—” Kun stopped. He seemed to be glaring at the cabinet as it wobbled violently; its door was half-closed. “There you are!”

The cabinet burst open and a pale, sickly looking figure slithered out. For a moment, you thought it was an Inferius until you realized it was a strange fusion of man and beast. Covered in a thin, black coat, the lanky figure had the face of a man and his body was covered in reddish-brown fur up to its neck; it had four arms, each one ending in a clawed clubfoot.

Kun looked at the confused boggart with a frown, disgusted. “You are by far the mankiest Yeti I’ve ever seen!” he exclaimed.

The boggart turned. Before it could focus on its victim, Kun aimed his wand at the dusty curtains of a nearby window.

“Diffindo!” he exclaimed.

The curtains split diagonally from where they were hung. With a flick of his wrist, you made the curtains float above the boggart until they collapsed over it, completely covering it in a tight, dusty embrace.

“Nice one!” you heard Kun exclaim and chuckled at his enthusiasm.

The boggart heard your amusement and twisted within the curtains, trying to find a way out, trying to find space to shift, until it tore through the curtains’ fabric with ease and zeroed in on you. It took only a second for it to—crack!—transform into the thing you feared most. Standing before you, glaring and looking disheveled, was yourself.

You took two steps backwards, spared Kun a terrified glance, then stumbled on your feet. One second you were standing, the other you were on the ground. You felt your wand slip out of your hand, heard it clatter and roll away. Fear overwhelmed you so much that you couldn’t take your eyes off the ghostly visage before you.

“YOU’RE A DISGRACE!” Boggart-You shouted, tilting its head to the side with a sickening crack. “YOU’RE A DISAPPOINTMENT!”

“I’m—” you began but felt the words die on your throat, your heart thudding faster and faster. “I’m–this isn’t real—you’re not real!”

That seemed to give the boggart pause; it blinked at you then slowly approached, dragging a leg as if it were broken.

“NOT REAL?” it screeched, twisting its neck until—crack!—turning into an equally glaring and disheveled Doyoung with dark shadows under his eyes. This Doyoung stared at you with hatred. “YOU’RE A TERRIBLE FRIEND!”

Doyoung reached out with a bony, rotting hand, then—crack!—turned into Ten.

“A WASTE OF SPACE!”

Crack! Where Ten had been was Professor Tablo, half his face rotting, his usual charismatic demeanor replaced by vitriol.

“A WASTE OF A BRAIN! A LOUSY STUDENT!”

You clenched your eyes shut, feeling your entire body go stiff with dread. You could hear your heart pounding on your chest, louder and louder, as the boggart’s judgement became harsher. Tears began to stream down your face and you couldn’t wipe them away because your hands were trembling so hard as you held yourself in a tight embrace.

The technique usually worked, but this time you felt like it wouldn’t. You heard the boggart get closer, heard it speak in the voice of your family—your mother, your father, as well as that of uncles, aunts, cousins, and your grandparents—until it began to cackle; you heard yourself and wished that the ground beneath you opened and you fell through it.

“HERE!” shouted Kun suddenly, hurrying forward.

Crack!

You didn’t hear yourself any longer. As matter of fact, you didn’t hear anything but Kun’s shallow breathing. You opened your eyes to see what seemed like a black cloak, slowly swirling above him—only, you realized, it wasn’t a cloak. It was a strange incorporeal, fluid-like cloud that whispered in tongues and shrunk and increased its size with every breath Kun gave.

Kun, much like you, was paralyzed; there was a glint of abject terror in his eyes. He gripped his wand tightly but didn’t raise it. When the cloud seemed to approach, he took three steps backwards; he never took his eyes off the boggart. He was about to raise his wand when the boggart—the cloud—struck and violently exploded into a torrent darkness that enveloped the entire classroom.

It lashed out but missed him. For a brief second, you thought Kun was injured—not dead, never dead—but you saw him raise his wand and shout with great effort, “RIDDIKULUS!”

CRACK! The torrent of darkness turned into a balloon the size of a wheel’s car, deflated over your heads, then puffed itself into a cloud of foam. Kun’s desirive cackle echoed across the classroom; it was a triumphant, but unnerving sound.

“Kun,” you whispered, your vision becoming blurry.

You got a glimpse of Kun swaying then falling to his knees, breathing hard and slowly turning to look at you. You wanted to say something, to thank him, but you felt your mouth dry and your body heavy.

A second later, as everything turned black, you passed out.

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“I WONDER WHAT they saw.”

“Their biggest fear, you daftie.”

“Well, yeah, I know that. . .”

“Then why are you asking?”

You heard familiar voices whispering, but couldn’t make sense of them whatsoever. You weren’t sure where you were or what had happened, let alone how you’d got wherever you were. All you knew was that you felt sore, as though someone had embraced you to the point of nearly cracking every bone in your body.

“I thought seeing a boggart was scary—”

“Jeno, would you please shut up?”

Biggest fear . . . scary . . . boggart. Your eyes snapped open. You were lying in the hospital wing. The third years were gathered around your bed. Renjun and Donghyuck remained standing while Jeno was sitting on the edge of the bed. They looked apprehensive then immediately relieved to see you conscious.

“Hey,” said Jeno, offering a small smile. “How are you?”

You blinked at them. Your mind going back to the boggart in the classroom—the loud crack everytime the boggart transformed—that entity that hurled your worst fears at you wearing your face—that cloud that attacked Kun . . .

“How long have I been unconscious?” You asked, sitting up and leaning your back on the bed’s creaky headboard.

“I’d say a few hours,” said Donghyuck.

That isn’t very comforting, you thought.

“What—what happened?”

“We don’t really know,” said Renjun. “We waited for you in the Great Hall but you never arrived. Hyuck told what happened to one of his hyungs and we went back to the classroom . . .”

Donghyuck nodded, looking shaken. “Only to find both of you passed out.”

“Who did you tell?” You asked, hoping it hadn’t been Doyoung or Ten.

“I told Yuta,” Donghyuck’s answer came as a whisper. “He immediately ran up to the third floor.”

“Scared the living shit out of me, you did,” said a new voice.

You turned to the hospital wing’s entrance and saw Yuta coming in, Doyoung and Ten right behind him. They weren’t the only ones that were visiting because they were accompanied by two Hufflepuffs and a Griffyindor.

You raised an eyebrow. “All this for me?”

Yuta shook his head. “All this for the two of you.” He faintly smiled as he pulled a chair and sat down next to you. “I’m assuming you’re feeling better.”

“Not really.”

“Hmmm.” He nodded, as if expecting such an answer. He put his hand on his hoodie’s pocket and pulled out a comically large chocolate bar. “Want some?”

“Sure.”

He broke out a piece, handed it to you, then continued to break the rest of the bar and handed it out to everyone in the room. The third years ate it apprehensively, eyes still on you, whereas Doyoung and Ten devoured it in the blink of an eye.

The Hufflepuffs smiled or waved and the Gryffindor stared, not confident enough to say hi; they, accompanied by Ten, walked over to the bed opposite you. There, still sleeping, was Kun. You were still so groggy and wondering what had happened that you forgot about him. How was that even possible? You shook your head, trying not to overthink or burden yourself with guilt.

Kun’s chest rose and fell softly, his lips pursed in a pout. He looked pale and exhausted, as though someone had cursed him with advanced aging. You felt the impulse to get out of bed, run up to him, and embrace him, but everything hurt and moving wasn’t the best course of action.

“How is he?” you asked loud enough for the Hufflepuffs to hear you.

“He’s fine,” said Ten, looking and sounding relieved. He ran a gentle hand through his friend’s hair. Then, more to himself than anyone else in the room, he mumbled, “He looks like utter shit, though.”

The smallest of the two Hufflpuffs giggled, caught himself, and awkwardly cleared his throat. He had a kind face and pink hair that reminded you of chewing gum. “According to Madma Lina, rest is doing him good,” he added.

“Rest would do anyone good,” said the other Hufflepuff, scoffing. “Bloody sixth year.”

You chortled but stopped, noticing you were choking up. He was okay. Unconscious but okay. That was something. Better than the alternative, you thought.

“He’ll be fine,” said Yuta, glancing at Kun with a small, sad smile. “I know he’ll pull through.”

A wave of emotion overwhelmed you. Though you didn’t want to cry, you found yourself doing so; there was no point in holding back tears. Yuta’s eyes widened as he took your hand, the expression on his face one of immense worry.

“I feel like it’s my fault,” you mumbled. “I hesitated—I could’ve handled it but—”

“Fear is a tricky thing, innit?” Yuta caressed your hand then held it with both of his hands. “We don’t always act as we’d like or expect. It’s okay. Sometimes we’re strong, others not so much.”

“I didn’t even get to say the incarnation.” You closed your eyes, remembering how afraid you’d felt. “I fell and let go of my wand.”

Yuta nodded, understanding. “I’ve been there.”

He had. Back when Yuta was a third year, you were a second year, and he had told you how he felt when he had to confront a boggart in a Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. How he had failed to laugh at the boggart, how terrified he’d felt, how everyone had rallied up around him despite initially laughing at his hesitation.

“Fear is overwhelming,” Professor Ok had said, comforting Yuta, “but fear is as strong, as daunting, as you allow it to be. It’s not easy, but you’re capable of being fearless.”

Yuta had taken those words to heart, lived by them. You hoped you could too.

“What did you see?” Yuta asked, stirring you from your reverie.

“I—” you hesitated, unsure if to admit you had seen yourself—and all of your loved ones—verbalizing the things you thought were true about yourself. “I saw a Lethifold.”

“Really?” Jeno perked up. “So did I!”

“You’re afraid of a flying cloak?” Donghyuck scoffed.

Jeno glared. “You’re afraid of quintapeds.”

Donghyuck punched Jeno’s shoulder, outraged. “That’s just common sense!”

“Did you just—” Jeno looked at his shoulder then back at Donghyuck. He balled up a fist and slowly raised it only to lower it when he felt Yuta narrowing his eyes at them. “Sorry.”

“I think it’s time we leave these two to rest,” said Yuta, standing up and waving a hand towards the door as he wrangled up the third years. “Let’s go, children.”

“I hope you feel better soon,” said Renjun, bowing. He followed Yuta and waited for his friends to catch up.

Donghyuck smiled, bowing hastily. “See you in the common room.”

Jeno glared at him, bowed, then walked behind him; he was still clenching up a fist and muttering threats under his breath. As soon as the third years and Yuta left, Doyoung approached your bed and sat down on the chair Yuta had used.

“You look like utter shit,” he said, as a matter-of-factly.

“YAH!” Ten exclaimed from across the room. He glared for a second, then turned to you and his eyes widened. “I mean—er—he’s out of line, but he isn’t wrong.”

“I wonder what I’d do without you.” You shook your head, feigning a heavy sigh.

Ten shrugged, unconsciously playing with Kun’s hair. “You’d be a mess,” he replied.

You found yourself wanting to hug him. The way he was staring at Kun made your heart melt; he was genuinely worried even if he hadn’t said it aloud. Ten caught himself moping, cleared his throat, and made a joke at his own expense; he left Kun’s side and joined Doyoung. He would never admit it, but he felt like he was robbing Kun’s friends of their time to be there for him.

“You’d be the biggest mess around,” he continued teasing, plumping down on the edge of the bed.

“Correction: I’m already a mess.”

Doyoung and Ten exchanged a glance, nodded, then looked at you.

“No shit,” they chorused.

You chuckled. “We’re all big messy messes.”

They agreed with another nod. There was a pause then the three of you laughed, loudly, free of any burdens or fears.

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DOYOUNG AND TEN stayed with you for about an hour. They left with the Hufflepuffs—Hendery and Jungwoo—and the Gryffindor—a third named Yangyang—and said they would meet you in the common room.

Madam Lina informed you that you’d be on your feet in no time. You were glad to hear that. You weren’t so glad, however, to see that Kun hadn’t woken up. Even when his friends came by and sat by his side, he stirred and turned once or twice, but remained unconscious.

“Is it normal?” you asked Madam Lina.

She glanced at him, then offered a small smile. “It depends on the person and what they’ve faced,” she said, uncorking a bottle of dittany. “Though I don’t think the reason he hasn’t woken up is entirely connected to what you both encountered.”

“So is he—er—faking?” You narrowed your eyes, glancing at Kun suspiciously.

“No.” Madam Lina chuckled. She approached Kun’s bed and drizzled two drops of dittany on a cloth, applying it to his shoulder and collarbone. “I think he’s just knackered and the boggart—whatever it turned into—just drained him.”

“Bloody sixth year,” you grumbled, looking at the ceiling.

“He’ll wake up soon. Don’t—oh, hello.”

“Where—what happ—” You heard Kun whisper in a groggy, husky voice. He cleared his voice and grunted, eyeing the matron with a blank expression. “Alright?”

Madam Lina chuckled. “I’m alright as one can be,” she replied, beaming. “I’d say good morning, but it’s almost evening.”

“Is—”

“I’m alright,” you interjected, smiling.

Kun stirred and sat up so suddenly that Madam Lina gasped and reached out, gently placing her hand on his forearm. He looked less pale now, a bit more like himself, but he still appeared to be fatigued; his green-mint hair was a mess, as though someone had run their fingers through it. He looked unsure, confused, until he met your gaze and a bright smile spread across his face.

“Magic!” he exclaimed, beaming.

“I’m glad you’re well,” you admitted out loud, feeling warm at the thought of Kun being okay.

He half-smiled. “Same here.”

Madam Lina looked between the two of you, relieved. She finished dabbing Kun’s injuries and turned to him.

“You need to rest for a wee bit more, but you’ll be out of here before dinner’s over.” She corked the bottle of dittany with a lazy flick of her wand. “I’ll arrange for you to have dinner here, though. You should enjoy as much silence as possible.”

“Silence sounds good.” Kun groaned as he glanced at the injuries in his shoulder—a crescent moon-shaped first-degree burn—that had now looked several days old. He was looking at his new scars intently, his brow furrowed. “A boggart caused this?”

Madam Lina stared at him intently. “Apparently so,” she conceded.

“Well . . . shit . . .” Kun caressed his collarbone, shocked.

The matron cleared her throat, calling attention to herself. “I’ll be in my office,” she said, waving her wand again to illuminate the hospital wing. “If you need anything—anything at all—let me know.”

“Thanks,” you and Kun said in unison.

You watched her go, waiting for her to enter her office and closed the door behind herself. Silence fell and enveloped both of you. Kun was staring blankly at the foot of your bed, looking lost in thought. When you were about to look away, he met your gaze and stared; he didn’t emote as he seemed to be still stuck in his head.

“What did you see?” you asked, scrutinizing that blank look in his face.

“Nothing but dust underneath your bed,” he mumbled, blinking.

“No, I meant—” you bit your lip, trying not to laugh. “What did you see in the classroom?”

“The boggart?”

You gave a small, if apprehensive nod.

“An obscurus,” he confessed, without a trace of embarrassment or hesitation. His eyes widened and drifted to his bed’s footboard, as if he’d seen one appear above your head. “They’re nasty things.”

“Obscurus?” You frowned. “Those are real?”

“Very,” he said in a tight voice.

It was the first time since you’ve known him that you’ve seen him afraid. You could see in his eyes that he’d been shaken by the event. He avoided eye contact and slumped back on his bed, staring at the ceiling rather despondently.

A parasitic force, an Osbrucus was a dangerous entity. It came to be when a child—always a wizard or witch—repressed their magical abilities; this could occur unconsciously or consciously. Abuse was often a reason for the manifestation of Obscuri.

Your mother had told you about them, recalling an event form her childhood; whenever she mentioned it or was asked about it, she would look pale in the face. You never thought they were real because it seemed like just a tall tale, but after seeing the boggart turn into one, displaying the destructive force of an Obsrucus, you were a skeptic no longer.

“Are you okay?”

“Not really,” he said, smiling ruefully, “but I’ll be fine and dandy after I’ve had a steak pie.”

You nodded. “A steak pie sounds good right about now.”

“It would be smashing, aye,” he agreed, his accent thick. “With a pint of butterbeer.”

“Magic!” you exclaimed, winking at him.

Kun’s smile reached his eyes. His laugh reached your heart.

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YOU ENTERED THE Slytherin Common Room not long after dinner and saw the usual suspects—Doyoung, Ten, Yuta—and Donghyuck gathered around the fireplace. They were talking in hushed tones, when Yuta noticed your arrival, immediately got to his feet, and started clapping. The others followed suit. Donghyuck seemed to be the most enthusiastic of the four.

“How are you holding up?” Yuta asked, sidestepping over the furniture to embrace you in a side-hug. He gently kissed the top of your head. “Ten was worried sick.”

“I wasn’t!” Ten exclaimed, outraged, but you could tell he had been worried sick.

You winked at him. “I know you have a reputation to uphold.”

He stared, winked back, then mouthed his thanks.

“I’m assuming you had something to eat.” Doyoung interjected, hooking his arm with Ten’s.

You nodded, grinning. “Steak pie—”

“Smashing,” said Doyoung, nodding.

“—and butterbeer,” you finished.

While Yuta raised an eyebrow, Doyoung, Ten, and Donghyuck stared, gobsmacked. Doyoung opened his mouth to protest but was interrupted by the third year, who in a whiny tone of voice said, “Butterbeer?”

Donghyuck blinked, jealous. Ten joined him in his indignation.

“Where did you get butterbeer?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

You shrugged, playing coy.

“Alright, then . . .” Ten nodded, tongue in cheek. “Keep your secrets.”

“I shall,” you replied, smirking. “And in order for me to keep my secrets properly, I reckon I need a good night’s sleep.”

“By all means, yes. Rest should do you good.” Yuta clapped, once more wrangling his fellow Slytherins like an experienced father dealing with noisy children. “Off to bed.”

“But—” Donghyuck began, pursing his lips into a thin line.

“But what?”

“I wanna hear what happened.”

Yuta raised an eyebrow. “Not now.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow,” you answered before Yuta could chastise the third year. You raised your pinky finger and offered it to him. “I promise.”

Donghyuck stared, smiled, then interlinked his pinky with yours. “Wicked,” he said.

“Happy?” Yuta titled his head. “Good. Now sod off to bed.”

“Oh . . . alright . . .”

The third year wandered off, accompanied by his seniors. Ten lazily waved goodbye. Doyoung glanced back with narrowed eyes; he was no doubt bitter about missing out on a good pint of butterbeer. That only left Yuta. He hugged you, bid you goodnight, and left for the dormitories. You were going to follow but instead decided to relax on your own. Seeing as there were only a handful of people—no more than six—you sat on one of the dark green button-tufted, leather sofas with a heavy sigh.

You wondered if other students had heard of what had happened. It was best if they didn’t. Some part of you was embarrassed by what had happened. Then there was a part of you that didn’t care what others thought.

“You’re capable of being fearless,” you whispered to yourself and found that these words strengthened your resolve.

Feeling reassured, you stood up and made your way towards the dormitories. As you reached your room, your thoughts wandered towards Kun. You hoped he was doing well.

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“DON’T YOU EVER get tired of reading?”

Kun looked up from his notebook, quill in his hand, and smiled. He was lying in bed, duvet up to his stomach. He looked across the room to see Jinjin waving his hand around, his face red, his jaw set. He’d been practicing nonverbal spells for the past hour and half with little to no success.

“I’m not reading,” Kun replied. “I’m writing.”

“To who?” Jinjin waved his wand at the ground in frustration. He grunted, threw his head back, then looked at Kun. “Is it ‘to who’ or ‘to whom’?”

Kun blinked, looking equally puzzled. “I honestly don’t know,” he replied, then eyed the bed to his immediate left where a figure was currently sleeping. He pointed at his neighbor with his quill. “But I reckon Wonwoo knows.”

Jinjin winced. “I’ll ask him in the morning.”

Kun chortled.

“So—” Jinjin threw his wand on his bed, looking defeated. “—who are you writing to?”

“My mum.” Kun kept scribbling upon the piece of parchment, focused but not entirely ignorant to his surroundings. “Felt the need to let her know that I sort of faced my biggest fear.”

“How come?”

“Dunno. Just felt like doing so.”

“How do you think she’ll take the news?”

“In good spirits, I hope.” Kun sighed, dipped his quill on the ink bottle, and continued to write. “The only silver lining is that it was a boggart and not the real thing.”

“All hail silver linings.” Jinjin approached Kun’s bed, sat by his feet. He stared at his friend worriedly then cleared his throat. “Are you—”

“I’m not. You shouldn’t worry, though.”

Jinjin’s face contorted with indignity and worry. “Don’t worry? Are you serious?”

“Not serious, but fairly somber.” Kun nodded, pouting. “I’ll be fine. I just need time to—” he paused, looking for the right phrase, “—plow through this.”

“Hmm.”

“Och,” he dismissively waved a hand, “nae danger, Jinjin. Some rest should—no, will—do me good.”

“You’ll finish the letter then go to sleep, right?”

Kun nodded, looking up to smile at his friend. “I will.”

“Alright.”

Kun finished the letter to his mum, then started writing on a new piece of parchment.

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SINCE YOU WOKE up early—earlier than usual and what you’d prefer—you decided to make the best of your day. You finished your essay for Professor Tablo, did some reading on Mokes, then headed for the Great Hall.

Sunday mornings were usually quiet, peaceful mornings wherein one could walk the castle without bumping into a lot of people. After all, Sundays were days of staying in: of relaxation, studying, and last minute essays.

When you reached the Great Hall, you saw a handful of people at each of the tables. Half a dozen Gryffyindors were in Quidditch gear, no doubt eating something before heading out for some practice on the pitch. Some Ravenclaws had plumped down and were either reading, writing on long scrolls of parchment, or practicing nonverbal spells; the same applied to the Slytherins and the Hufflepuffs.

There were familiar faces but none that you would share company with. You felt like you wanted some space, some time for yourself. You found a space on the Slytherin table away from fellow classmates and sat down, serving yourself some pumpkin juice. You were about to serve yourself breakfast—bacon or sausages?—when a skinny, orange-haired second year with a plae five-o’-shadow approached you with a tightly-gripped note on his left hand.

“Morning,” you said, looking at him apprehensively.

He extended his hand and waited for you to take the note.

“This is for you,” he blurted out.

“Thanks?”

He shrugged. “Welcome,” he mumbled, then turned on his heel and walked out of the Great Hall.

You raised an eyebrow, snorted, then mumbled, “Oh-kay.”

Looking down at the note, you recognized the writing. It was Kun’s. Something akin to panic took a hold of you. For a second, which felt like forever, you felt your heart skip a beat. Slowly, as if afraid of ruining the parchment, you opened the note.

It read:

To whom it may concern,

Noli Timere. It’s a phrase that my mum taught me. Latin for ‘don’t be afraid.’

I’m aware that it’s easy to say and hard to think we can be fearless when we’re afraid, but the truth is we can be; especially when we’re terrified and think once we give in to this dread we’ll lose ourselves. But, as I’ve learned, that’s when we can be the strongest; that’s when we can gather our courage and stand up to that which scares us.

— Q. Kun

PS; I didn’t mind boggarts before—at best, they’re nuisances; at worst, a pest—but now I definitely loathe them. I think they’re manky, daft pricks.

You smiled bittersweetly at the note, digits caressing the parchment.

“Noli timere,” you whispered, committing the phrase to memory.

KUN WAS SITTING by a towering beech tree on the edge of the Black Lake. He was alone, a book on his lap, overlooking the calm waters of the lake. You weren’t surprised to find him lost in his thoughts, finding it endearing and so characteristic of him.

“Waiting for the Giant Squid to make an appearance?”

Even before he turned, you saw his grin. His mint-green hair was held back by a toothed headband and he wore casual clothing that wouldn’t look out of place in a gym. He closed the book and stood up, meeting you halfway.

“He already did.” Kun glanced at the lake, then raised an eyebrow with a tilt of his head. “Or she. I honestly dunno its gender.”

“What did it do?”

“Sort of passed by, waited for me to give it something—a bacon croissant, if you’re wondering—and then it just disappeared under the lake.”

“Must have been a sight.”

“It was.” Kun nodded, beaming.

You gave the lake the once-over, gathered your courage, then said, “I received your letter.”

“You did?”

“Yes. This kid gave it to me and left without a word.”

“Och.” Kun shook his head, looking disappointed. “Forgive Chenle, he’s—” he paused, pursing his lips, “—rather exuberant some of the time and extremely aloof the rest of it.”

“You sent him but not Donghyuck?”

Kun shrugged, pacing the lake’s bank. You followed.

“Either of them would have read the note. I just—” he shrugged again, “—put a charm on the parchment. If he tried to open it, his hand would be instantly glued to it.”

“So he wouldn’t be able to open his hand—”

“Until the note was delivered, yes.” He looked at you, that glint of endearment ever present in his eyes. “Listen, I—er—dunno how to say this, but—” he grimaced, then cleared his throat. “I wrote the note more for myself than for you as a reminder that I—well, we—can be fearless. It’s more than anything a reminder that I’m—we’re—not alone in being afraid.”

You smiled, felt tears forming in your eyes. “I appreciate that.”

He nodded, looking sheepish. You reached out and pulled him into a hug. At first, he was stiff. He loosened and gave in, hugging you back, when he felt you resting your head on his chest. You remained like this for longer than you should, but it felt right; it felt warm. You didn’t feel alone; you felt supported. You thought that he felt supported too; you hoped so.

He broke the embrace to look at you. “That hug was magic,” he chuckled.

“Best kind of magic.” You agreed. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“I gave mine away so . . . no.”

“What if I buy you breakfast? My treat.”

Kun laughed, throwing his arm around your shoulder.

“Alright,” he said. “Your treat.”

#ficscafe network #hogwarts au #hufflepuff!kun #nct x hogwarts #qian kun #kun #kun fic #kun scenarios #kun imagines #kun x reader #kun x gender-neutral reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct x gender neutral reader #wayv scenario #wayv imagines #wayv fic #wayv x reader

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chipsandwaffles · 3 years

Text

magic, cake, and you

Synopsis: You’re invited to Hogwarts, the most prestigious magic school in the world, and immediately gain zero friends but one rival. Member: Doyoung/Reader Word Count: 19,872 Notes: lol it’s ya boy with a collab fic make sure you read the fic that @taeyongtime wrote as well! this fic has been in the works for like three years I hope you all enjoy! --

-- “Wow…”

You stare up at the castle in the distance, eyes wide in wonder at the beauty and size of it. When you got your letter from Hogwarts telling you of your magic powers and that you were able to attend in your upcoming school year, you just expected another normal building with kids in it. You didn’t expect a large castle across a lake with hundreds of other kids riding in boats with you towards it.

The only word that could describe how it looked was magical, cheesy enough as it was.

Eventually, the boats reach the other side of the lake and everyone clambers out of them. You’re all led up to the castle grounds and into the castle, and even more things astound you as you step inside the Great Hall. The floating candles above you, the night sky that had been magically produced, the long tables where many more students sat. All of it made it hard to keep your jaw off the floor.

“First years, gather around,” Professor McGonagall says. She’s standing in front of the room near another table, who you no doubt is a table for the other professors of the school. Next to her is a chair, and on the chair sits a hat with a weird amount of creases that almost looks like a face.

You wouldn’t be surprised if it talked.

“I will call up your names one by one for you to be sorted into your house. After that, please join your respective table.” The professor unfurls a scroll, picks up the hat, and then begins reading off names. One by one students go up, and, just as you thought, the hat talks, telling them each what house they belong in.

A few names stick out to you, a boy named Kun, who ends up in Ravenclaw, and another Ravenclaw boy named Ten, only because of the ridiculous cheering from girls that no one else really gets.

A third names sticks out, and you watch as the boy named Kim Doyoung walks up to the chair and takes his seat. He looks proud and confident as he sits there, and the hat laughs at him for it.

“Ahh, of course you’d be proud. Just like the rest of your family. Hoping to be in Slytherin… But you have so many traits from Ravenclaw as well… Hmm… What a difficult choice,” the Sorting Hat debates for a moment, but Doyoung never wavers from his proud posture, sure that he’ll be put into Slytherin. “Hufflepuff would be a good choice for you as well, now, wouldn’t that be something to tell your parents… Ahh, but really it isn’t a difficult decision at all, is it?”

The hat quiets for a moment, and ultimately bellows out, “Slytherin!”

Doyoung sighs with relief and you watch as he rushes over to his designated table. You laugh as he holds a hand to his chest, seeing that the whole proud act was just a show in front of everyone. Just like all the other kids, he was just as nervous.

More kids are called up, and then your name is called soon after. You step up to the chair and take a seat as the hat is placed on your head. The hat is silent for a long moment, and you stare out at the crowd in front of you, your breath catching as all eyes are on you.

“I see many things in you, many traits that any of the houses would be happy to have…” The hat says. “But I see what truly lies deep within you… All the traits you’ve yet to grasp…

“This one is Gryffindor!” The hat yells. You hear clapping from your house table, and rush over to it as soon as the hat is taken off of your head. You weren’t at all sure what house you were going to end up in, but this one seemed fine to you as you sit among the other students.

Of course, good things could only happen for so long before they were replaced with bad things.

The sorting ends, and dinner begins. Immediately, everyone starts talking, and you have trouble joining in on their conversations. It seems a lot of the other kids know each other, and you have no idea what they’re talking about when they mention magical things you’ve never heard of.

You were born of two non-magical parents, and all these kids grew up with magic somewhere in their household.

You can’t help but feel absolutely left out.

“Hey, you.” You look up at the voice speaking and see Kim Doyoung, staring at you with a raised eyebrow. You point to yourself and he rolls his eyes. “Yes, you. You’re the one who was reading on the train by yourself, right?” You nod your head at Doyoung, and he smirks. “Then I guess it’s fitting that you’d be my rival, being in Gryffindor and all.”

“Rival? When did we become rivals?” You ask. You notice a lot of the other Gryffindor children staring and you feel unease settle in your stomach at the unwanted attention.

“Right now, when I declared it.”

“…that’s ridiculous! I’m not going to be your rival!”

“You are. Not that it matters, because even if you’re my rival you won’t ever really surpass me.” Doyoung turns on his heel and walks back to the Slytherin table. The other kids at your own keep staring until you look back, and then they all quickly look away, as if they didn’t just all have their eyes on you. You frown and try your best to focus on your food, even though you weren’t hungry anymore.

Dinner eventually ends without you making one single friend, especially after the Doyoung incident, and then you’re led by an older student through amazing hallways with moving stairs and talking paintings. Even the painting in front of your common room talks.

As you enter your new shared bedroom and sit on your bed, you take a deep breath.

Your parents told you to make some friends the first day, but there were plenty of other days to make friends. You could be impressed with all the magic around you first and make friends later. That’d be okay.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” You look up at one of your roommates, not at all sure of what her name was. You nod your head and she raises an eyebrow at you.

“You look really confused. Are you a Muggle-born?” She asks. You nod your head, knowing that word meant you had nonmagical parents. She smirks a little bit, and then steps away. “Make sure you stay away from me then. I don’t want to catch your stupid.”

You frown as she walks out of the room. You weren’t stupid. You absolutely were not stupid. You hop off your bed and follow after her, grabbing at her robes as she stands in the common room with some of the other students.

“What- stop touching me!” She steps away from you and glares. “What do you want?”

“I’m not stupid. Just because I have muggle parents-

“Can you do this then?” She asks, producing her wand and casting a spell. You frown and stay quiet. “Like I said. Stupid. Now get out of my face, loser.”

You glare at her, and, without thinking grab her wand and throw it at the roaring fireplace. It lands in the flames and bursts with magic. The kids all look at you, and she screams.

“How dare you, you stupid-

“Guess you’re stupid now too since you can’t cast spells without your wand!” You yell.

You rush back up to your room and slam the door. There was no doubt you were going to get into trouble, but at least you stood up for yourself. That was something to be proud about.

Right?

After a stern talk from the headmaster, and a switch of rooms, you officially start your life at Hogwarts. The first few days are lonely, considering everyone in the school had apparently heard about you throwing someone’s wand into the fireplace by day two. No one wants to talk to you, so you just take it in stride and keep to yourself as much as possible. You study in the library, come back to your room when everyone is sleeping, and eat alone.

It’s fine, because at least you weren’t friends with some petty bully.

Until your birthday rolls around only a few weeks later, and there’s no one to even talk about it with. You get a letter from your parents, wishing you well with a gift of school supplies and some nice sweaters for when the weather gets colder, and you can’t help but feel sad knowing you won’t get to spend the day with them.

Not to mention that every year you would always make cake with them, and this year you wouldn’t even be able to see them.

It sucked.

Your parents wouldn’t want you to be sad though, so after dinner you go off to find the kitchens. If you couldn’t make a cake with them, you could at least make one by yourself. You deserved at least that.

You wander the halls for a while, entering classrooms and bathrooms and storage rooms as you go along. It takes a while, but you manage to finally spot it near the staircase leading up to the Hufflepuff house. Upon entering, you see small creatures rushing about with trays and plates and bowls and food, clearly still cleaning up after dinner.

None of them seem to take notice of you, and you stop for a moment, not sure what to do. You don’t want to get in their way, but you don’t want to go back on your original plan either.

“What are you doing here?” You look down at one of the creatures, a stern looking one that stares up at you.

“Uh, I… I’m sorry, I just came to make a cake I didn’t know- sorry, I can leave,” you say. The creature shakes its head at you and takes your hand. They lead you over to a small table and gesture for you to sit down. As you do, they ask you again why you’re here.

“I wanted to make a cake… because it’s my birthday and my parents and I would always make a cake together. But…” You sniffle, and wipe at your eyes, not realizing you had started crying.

“You stay here. I’ll be back.” You nod and sit at the table, watching as the creature disappears further into the kitchens. It’s a long time before the creature comes back, but when they do, they stand in front of you and set a plate on the table with a slice of cake on it.

“Happy birthday, young one. I am not your parents, but I hope this suffices.” You start crying again but thank the creature anyways. They walk off after patting your arm, and you wipe at your tears once more, feeling better at the small gesture.

It wasn’t your parents, but it was good enough.

“Y/N.”

You look up at the voice and see Kim Doyoung standing there. After seeing him on the first day, you didn’t stop seeing him. He had been in multiple classes with you and had often been in the library when you were in there. You didn’t talk at all, but he was still there.

And here he was now.

“Doyoung… Hi.”

He nods at you and then walks away. You turn back to your cake, a little confused as to why he was here, but focus on your treat and take a bite. The cake is moist and just the right amount of sweet as it melts in your mouth, and it’s delicious enough that it makes you forget about everything that’s happened the last few weeks at school.

It’s really what you needed, and you make a note to really thank the creature that gave it to you.

“Here.” A cup is placed in front of you next to your plate and you look up to see Doyoung again. He sits down, with a plate of cookies and a cup himself, and you stare at him, even more confused than before.  

“What? Do you not eat cookies and milk?” He asks.  

“I do- but- why are you sharing with me?” You ask. He stares at you before picking up a cookie and shrugging.  

“Saw you talking with that house-elf about your birthday. I thought I'd be nice,” he says. “But if you don't want it- 

“No! I do. Thank you.”  

Doyoung nods and the two of you eat in silence, Doyoung eating cookies faster than you've seen anyone eat cookies and only stopping for a drink of milk. You eat your cake and nibble at a cookie afterwards, feeling content with how your birthday has gone.  

Even having Doyoung with you, who had declared you his rival since day one, was comforting.  

“I heard you threw someone’s wand into a fire on our first day.” You frown and set your cookie down. Of course Doyoung heard about that. Everyone in the school had.  

“She called me stupid. I wasn’t going to let her bully me like that,” you say. Doyoung laughs.  

“No wonder you got sorted into Gryffindor,” he says. 

“What do you mean? Are you insulting me?”  

“No. It just makes sense. You stood up to me and that girl. Only people brave enough to do things like that would be sorted into Gryffindor.” Doyoung says. It grows silent between the two of you once more, Doyoung shoving three more cookies down his throat before you decide that you can't let the silence last any longer. Not when there was a pressing question on your mind.  

“Why did you declare me your rival at our sorting?”  

Doyoung looks at you for a long moment before he shrugs and stands up. He picks up his plate of nearly empty cookies and his cup, and steps away from the table.  

“You seemed like the only one who could actually match up to me. And I clearly made the right choice because no one else seems to be taking school as seriously as you and me,” Doyoung says.

“Somehow that makes me feel a little better,” you say. “Kind of sounds like you just want a friend to enjoy school with.”

Doyoung flushes at your words and turns away from you, shaking his head. “Whatever you want to think, Y/N.” He pauses and looks back at you. “Happy birthday.”

Doyoung begins to walk away, but you call out to him before he can get very far. He looks back at you, and you smile. “Thank you, Doyoung.”

He gives a small smile back before finally walking off. You watch him go and breathe out a quiet sigh of relief, happy that your birthday went far better than you expected.

After your birthday, things start changing between you and Doyoung. While he still seems to want to battle you for the top spot in your grade, he at least does it a little more civilly. He sits next to you in classes, going over the homework together before the professor arrives and ignoring any judgmental stares from the other students. He studies with you in the library, challenging you to read book chapters faster than him. And, while he doesn't eat any meals with you, it still feels like the two of you are friends rather than total rivals.

Days pass at Hogwarts faster and happier with Doyoung by your side, and before you know it it’s already wintertime, and nearing the end of the semester. You smile to yourself one snowy day as you enter the library, seeing Doyoung waiting for you. How could someone who was just your rival and not your friend do that?

“Doyoung!” You reach your usual seat across from Doyoung and sit down, placing your books on the table. He looks up at you from the book he had been pouring over and nods at your arrival. “What are you reading? Anything interesting?”

He shakes his head and closes his book, looking up at you. You see on the front it’s your schoolbook on potions, and you grin.

While every subject you did well at, potions was the one class that you especially excelled at, better than the other students in your grade. Professor Slughorn had been especially impressed, considering many students didn’t understand potions that well their first year when there was so much to remember when it came to the ingredients.

But you remembered every ingredient and could make all the potions you’d learned so far in your sleep. Not to mention that Doyoung, who did so well in his classes as well, wasn’t as amazing at potions like you were. He hadn’t beaten any of your test scores, nor could he answer a question faster than you could.

And him reading over the potions book meant only one thing.

“Are you nervous about the potions midterm? I could help you, you know. I don’t mind!” Doyoung stares at you for a moment before shaking his head again.

“I can manage just fine on my own. I was just studying before you got here.”

“Come on Doyoung. I can help-

“It’s fine!” Doyoung yells. Immediately, the two of you are shushed by the librarian, Madam Pince, and Doyoung looks back down at the book. Silence settles between the two of you for a long moment until you place Doyoung’s charms book in front of him.

“Let’s study charms, okay?”

Doyoung stays silent as he opens his book and continues to stay silent for the rest of your studying together. He and you end up parting on awkward terms as you head back to your respective common rooms, but you’re sure it’d be fine the next time you saw him.

You were wrong. It wasn’t fine the next time you saw Doyoung. Instead of being friendly, he gave you the cold shoulder. When you asked questions, he’d give you half-baked answers. And when together in the library, he and you studied just as quietly as the last time you were there. You wanted to ask Doyoung about it, but you chocked it up to him focusing on studying for midterms.

You just hoped when they were over, your time together would go back to how it was.

Eventually, your potions midterm arrives, and you enter the classroom feeling excited and ready to ace it. You take your usual seat across from Doyoung, and frown when your former roommate from the very first day of school sits next to you, and one of her friends sits next to Doyoung. They had never sat next to you before in potions and seeing the looks on their faces makes unease settle in your stomach.

“Good luck, Y/N,” Doyoung says. You smile at him.

“You too.”

“Good morning, everyone! For today’s class, you will be showing me how well each of you can brew one of the following potions,” Professor Slughorn says as he steps into the room. He points to a chalkboard, where three of the potions you’d learned so far had been written. A little unease disappears at seeing said potions, knowing exactly how to brew each of them.

“Whichever potion you wish, just make sure to tell me when it’s finished, and I will grade you promptly. Now then, begin!” You and your classmates all walk over to a wall of ingredients, and, one by one gather up everything you’ll need for the first part. Once you return to your table, you begin preparing your potion; The Antidote to Common Poisons.

You add each ingredient according to your memory, first crushed up Bezoar, then a couple measures of a few standard herbs that go into any potion. Once they’re in there, you heat it up, wave your wand, and leave it to brew. While you wait, you’re given a written test, one you fly through without much issue, and then are left to wait again.

Doyoung finishes around the same time as you do and you offer your hand to him.

“I’ll turn in your test for you,” you say. He doesn’t complain at your kindness, handing over his test. You take yours and his own up to the professor, and then go over to the wall of ingredients once more to gather what you needed for the second part of the potion.

Nearly two hours later, your potion is ready for more ingredients. You take a pinch from one of the mortars in front of you with crushed-up unicorn horn and sprinkle it over your cauldron. You grab your wand, prepared to stir the potion, only to watch as it begins fizzling before you. You frown and quickly look to the professor, knowing that the reaction it was having wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Um- professor!” Before the professor can even get to you, you hear your cauldron pop as it explodes next to you. You quickly duck under the table, and that unease that had been sitting with you bubbles up just as your potion did.

“Y/N- how much unicorn horn did you add?!” Professor Slughorn yells. You peek above the table, frowning at the hole in your cauldron. You weren’t going to be able to continue now.

“I- just the one pinch-

“Clearly not! I’m very disappointed in you. 10 points from Gryffindor.”

“But professor-!”

“Do you want more points taken away?” He asks. You shake your head and stand up, looking around at your other classmates. You hated when they all had their eyes on you, and it didn’t help when Doyoung was staring at you with such a blank expression.

Why wasn’t he defending you? He had to know you added the right amount of unicorn horn. How could you not when you knew the instructions by heart?

“I’ll have to get this cleaned up. In the meantime, please wait in the hall until class is finished, Y/N. We will talk about what happened afterwards.”

“But-

“Go.”

You hear laughter from some of the other students and rush out of the potions classroom. The door slams behind you and you slump to the floor against a wall, wiping at tears that had started to form. You thought this whole bullying thing had ended after the first day, but apparently not. Apparently you were just destined to not have fun at this school.

“Hey, are you okay?” You look up to see a fellow Gryffindor, a boy with a kind face and worry etched on it.

“I-I’m fine,” you say. He might look friendly, but you weren’t going to fall for it. Not anymore. You wipe at your eyes one more time before turning away from the boy, not wanting to talk to him.

“You say you’re fine, but you’re out here crying,” he says. He moves to sit in front of you, leaning closer than you’d like him to. “Why are you crying? Did something happen in class?”

“Why do you care? You’re probably just going to tell everyone that I was crying. And then everyone else is going to have another excuse to pick on me.”

“Why would I do that?” The boy asks. He leans back and frowns. “Wait, pick on you? Have people been bullying you?”

“…why wouldn’t they? I threw another kid’s wand into the fireplace on my first day,” you reply. “Because I’m stupid because I don’t have magical parents.”

The boy laughs at your words, hearty and long enough that he has tears by the time he’s done. You stare at him, not at all sure as to what he’s laughing at. He grins at you once he’s done and puts a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it.

“You know why you were put in Gryffindor?” You shake your head, not at all sure of the reason anymore. He moves his other hand to your other shoulder and squeezes them both. “Because when everyone wants to put you down, you’re willing to stand back up, stronger and better than they could imagine. Bullying is pathetic and cowardly, but you’re brave enough to stand up to that bullying, and brave enough to not let it get to you. That’s why you’re in Gryffindor. So perk up, okay? You’ll get past this.”

You sniffle, smiling at the boy’s words. He was right. No matter how much all of them wanted to get you down, you would still get right back up, better and stronger than all of them.

“Thanks. That means a lot.”

“You’re welcome uh… Sorry, I didn’t even bother to ask your name. I’m Johnny.” Johnny puts out his hand for you, and you grab it, shaking it.

“Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you then, Y/N,” Johnny says. He stands up and grins down at you. “From here on out, let’s be friends, okay?”

You nod your head, still smiling. “Okay.”

Before you know it, your first year at Hogwarts comes to a close. After being able to retake your potions midterm and passing with flying colors, the holidays came and went, and the second part of the school did as well, this time, happier and more enjoyable. While Doyoung seemed to grow more distant, it didn’t entirely matter because you had many more friends that came from it. Johnny and you had become close, especially because he, just like you, was born of non-magical parents. It made things easier, and even more so when he introduced you to all of the friends he had made his two years at Hogwarts.

It wasn’t fun like hanging out with Doyoung was, but it was fun in its own way, and, really, you couldn’t complain about that.

As you’re heading to the kitchens one last time before you have to head home for the summer, you see Doyoung enter before you. The two of you didn’t talk much anymore, but, maybe this was the time to rekindle that friendship that had been lost.

You enter the kitchens yourself after a moment and see Doyoung already sitting at the table you had sat at so long ago, eating a plate of cookies with a glass of milk. One of the house-elves notices you and asks if you’d like a snack, and, after declining you head over to Doyoung.

“Hey.”

Doyoung looks up from his plate of cookies, surprise written clearly on his face as his eyes meet yours. You smile encouragingly and sit down.

“I saw you come in and figured I’d join you. How have you been? We haven’t really talked since the holidays…”

Doyoung shoves a cookie in his mouth, and then after a drink from his milk, nods. “Yeah… I… had a lot going on after the holidays. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” you say. “We can talk some more over the summer. We can write each other letters too! My friend Johnny is going to visit, so maybe you can visit- uh- only if you want though!”

Doyoung smiles sadly at you before sliding the plate of cookies towards you. “Thanks. I’ll ask my parents about it.”

You frown at Doyoung, knowing that something is clearly wrong, but not wanting to push it. Instead, you take a cookie and begin nibbling on it. Doyoung and you sit in silence together until the plate of cookies is gone and there’s nothing left to keep you together in the kitchens.

You probably weren’t going to see each other for a while so you reach across the table and put your hand on top of Doyoung’s before he can pick up the empty plate.

“Doyoung, thanks for being my first friend at school. It meant a lot to me.”

He stares at you for a long moment, pain clear on his face, but he ends up nodding and smiling anyways.

“Yeah. The same goes for me.” He stands up and takes his empty dishes. “Thanks for being my friend, Y/N.”

You watch Doyoung walk away, and you get up yourself, heading for the exit of the kitchens.

“There you are!” The door to the train car opens and you look up to see Johnny standing there, along with two other boys, Yuta, one of Johnny’s Slytherin friends, and a Ravenclaw named Taeil behind him. You grin and stand up, letting Johnny envelop you in a hug. “It’s only been a few weeks, but I still missed you tons.”

“Me too, Johnny.”

The summer had passed by too quickly with so much going on at home. Your parents and you took a fun vacation together, one you couldn’t shut up about when you wrote to your new-found friends. Your old friends from your neighborhood visited, all asking about the school you went to and enjoying the time you had together. Johnny visited as well, and stayed longer than you expected, and every moment with him was a moment not wasted. Letters had arrived from all your friends, and you all wrote back to each other over and over as the summer went by.

One even came from Doyoung, asking about your summer. None after that, but it still meant a lot that he sent one letter at least.

But now here you were, back on the train heading to Hogwarts, with friends by your side and a happy smile on your face.

You’re sure that nothing could ruin this year.

“Y/N, you can’t study forever. You’re gonna waste away in the library,” Johnny says, his arms stretched over the table. You had been studying for a test coming up in your charms class, but only for a few hours. It wasn’t like you’d been studying for the whole day.

“Studying is very important, Johnny. I know you don’t know much about that.” Johnny laughs and leans back in his chair.

“You’ve gotten a lot of cheek since summer… Yuta’s been rubbing off on you, huh?”

You laugh yourself. “Maybe a little.”

“Yet none of my free spirit attitude has?” Johnny asks. You shrug and continue to read your Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 book, flicking your wand in your hand as you test out the hand motions for each spell. You can feel Johnny’s eyes on you, watching quietly as you practice and read.

But clearly he can’t be patient because he eventually reaches for your book and snatches it off the table.

“Hey!”

“You’ve gone over Incendio so many times that you’d probably be able to set this whole room on fire. Take a break, will you? Come watch our Quidditch practice.”

“I’ve never watched before though. I won’t know what’s going on,” you say. Johnny raises an eyebrow at you.

“Did you not go to any of the games last year?” You shake your head.

“I liked studying more, plus, I heard our house kept losing. Something about that Johnny kid being the worst player…”

“Oh my- now you’re definitely going. That Johnny kid is going to show you just how good he is!” With a loud shush from the librarian, Johnny and you take that as your cue to leave, and head for the Quidditch pitch. You had never actually been out here before, only ever seeing it from windows and hearing about it from students passing by.

It was cool to be on, and even more so when seeing the students flying up in the air on broomsticks. You had thought Quidditch was just another sport wizards came up with that involved a ball, but this really seemed much more fun.

“Johnny!”

One of the Gryffindor kids comes flying down, stopping right in front of you and Johnny with a grin on her face.

“What took you so long? We’ve been waiting a whole hour!” You look at Johnny and punch at his arm, frowning.

“You should’ve just left without me!”

“It’s fine, she’s exaggerating. It’s only been twenty minutes.” He turns to you, rubbing at his arm. “You can go watch in the stands. I promise it’ll be enjoyable.”

He starts walking off, with the girl hopping off her broom to join him, but immediately he turns around and calls to you.

“And no reading, Y/N! Pay attention!” You roll your eyes and head up the stands, taking the stairs up and up until you reach the bleachers at the very top. You take a seat, and look across the way, immediately sighing in relief at seeing other people, ones you did not like, sitting there. This was supposed to be enjoyable, so sitting far from them guaranteed that.

You resist the urge to open a book as you wait, and instead look around the stands, seeing the other students watching the practice. Not only are there Gryffindor students, but there’s also sprinklings of Ravenclaw, and one Hufflepuff student in the same stands as you. No Slytherin, though, that wasn’t much of a surprise, not when Gryffindor and Slytherin were considered rivals.

“Y/N!” You look away from the bleachers and see Johnny on a broom, floating in front of you, and you smile.

“Looking cool, Johnny.”

“I knew you’d think so. If you want, I can take you for a ride later.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be practicing, Johnny?” You look over to your left and see the one Hufflepuff student, yawning as he walks over to Johnny. Johnny and he exchange a handshake, clearly one they’ve made up together, and they look back at you.

“Y/N, this is the Hufflepuff seeker, Taeyong. Taeyong, this is my best friend, Y/N. Teach her the basics, will you?”

“Sure.” Johnny waves and flies off, and Taeyong walks over to you, sitting down and yawning again.

“Tired?” You ask. He shrugs.

“A little. I was in a middle of a nap when Gryffindor’s team came yelling at me to get off the pitch twenty minutes ago.”

“You were taking a nap on the Quidditch pitch? Couldn’t you have just used your bed?” You ask.

“I could’ve but I was running drills in my head and then I laid down to think and then I was too lazy to go to the common room so here we are,” he leans back and yawns once more, closing his eyes as he does.

“…Johnny said you’re a seeker. What is that?” Taeyong’s eyes shoot open and he stares at you, eyebrows raised.

“You don’t know what a seeker is?” You shake your head. “Do you know anything about Quidditch?” You shake your head again. “Okay… Well, it’s a sport with each team having seven players. If you look up there…”

Taeyong points to the Gryffindor team in the air and begins explaining all the basics of Quidditch. How there’s one keeper, Johnny, who kept the other team from scoring. There were three chasers, who scored in the opposing team’s goals. Two beaters, who kept one of the three types of balls away from their teammates and then the seeker, who flew around looking for the golden snitch, an impossibly hard ball to see, especially with all the chaos going on during the game. However, once the seeker caught it, the game would end.

It all seemed simple, but for most of the time that you spent on the bleachers with Taeyong, you yourself looked around to try and find the golden snitch with binoculars that Taeyong had. You barely even gave Johnny a second glance as he kept balls from going into the goals, your mind far too fascinated on the ball that ended the game.

“Oh, there it is!” You point up to one of the bleachers, where it fluttered around a Slytherin boy who stood next to two others, one being Yuta and the other being Doyoung. They both laugh as the other Slytherin boy tries batting it away, and you frown, pulling the binoculars away from your face.

“You okay?”

“…yeah, just… How does Johnny do it?”

“Do what? Fly on a broom?” You shake your head.

“Becomes friends with everyone. I mean, I’m friends with people in other houses but that’s because he introduced me to them. How do I become friends on my own?”

Taeyong leans back once more and shrugs. “I guess use that Gryffindor tenacity like him and just be so friendly that others can’t help but want to be friends with you.” Taeyong takes the binoculars from you, and, looking up at the three Slytherins, asks, “You know him? The one with the glasses?”

You nod. “Kim Doyoung. He was my first friend at Hogwarts, but we haven’t really spoken since last year.”

“Well, if him constantly looking over here is any indication, I think he wants to be better friends with you too.”

You flush at Taeyong’s words and shake your head. He was just teasing you, because there was no way Doyoung could see you from all the way up there. You look back to where the Gryffindor players are and see them do a cheer before they disperse. Johnny heads over to you on his broom, grinning at you.

“Did you watch me out there, Y/N?”

Taeyong and you share a look before laughing.

“Totally did! You did great blocking the goals!” You say, still laughing. Taeyong laughs harder.

“So great! Better than when you’re actually playing!”

“Oh my- you two are the worst. I can’t believe I introduced you two.”

The year continues rolling by, until your birthday comes around and you’re reminded once more that you won’t be celebrating it with your parents. Even though Johnny is so nice and throws you a wonderful birthday party with all of your mutual friends, it still leaves a vague hole in your heart.

Which was probably why you find yourself in front of the kitchens later that day. You smile as you remember the cake the house-elves made you last time and push open the door. Immediately, at the usual table, you see Doyoung sitting there, a plate of cookies and a glass of milk in front of him, along with a slice of cake and a glass of milk across from him. You grin and rush over, sitting down and surprising Doyoung as you do.

“Hey.”

Doyoung smiles. “Hey.”

“Did you-

“No. It was there when I came in. Guess they were waiting for you.” You smile even more and stare at Doyoung.

“And what about you? Were you waiting too?”

“No! I- no way. I came for my usual snack time.” Doyoung’s eyes don’t meet yours, and you know that he’s lying to you. The hole in your heart seems to seal up at all of this, from the cake to Doyoung, and you can’t help but feel happier than before.

“Thanks, Doyoung.”

He’s silent for a long moment until, “yeah. Happy birthday, Y/N.”

Whatever had been on Doyoung’s mind seems to disappear for the rest of the year, as the two of you begin spending time together again. He and you sit next to each other in classes, going over homework again. You study in the library together, or even in empty classrooms just so your other friends can’t disturb the two of you.

All of it is nice and wonderful, and you’re glad to have a friend that’s actually in your year again.

And then the end of the school year approaches, and Doyoung gets distant once more. It’s different this time, as he’s not ignoring you or acting like he doesn’t want to be around you, but rather he clearly has something on his mind, and whenever you ask about it, he changes the subject.

You figure that maybe it’s got something to do with his family, considering when the holidays rolled around, he didn’t really seem thrilled to go home, but you’re not sure.

Not when he won’t talk to you about it.

But as the final days of the school year come and go, you decide you were going to get whatever was bothering him out. You were friends after all, and that meant that friends talked to each other. And, unlike last year, you weren’t willing to let Doyoung go again.

You find yourself at the kitchens once more on the second to last day of school, and, upon opening up the doors find Doyoung sitting there, his usual plate of cookies in front of him. You walk over and sit down across from him, pulling the plate of cookies off the table and sitting them on the space next to you.

“Hey why- oh. Y/N.”

“What’s wrong with you? You’ve had something on your mind for the past two years and refuse to open up about it. Aren’t we friends, Doyoung?”

“We are,” Doyoung says. He quiets for a while, opening his mouth over and over again to speak, but not saying anything when he decides it’s not the right thing.

Over and over he does this until eventually he looks at you, with clear pain in his eyes. “You remember that potion that blew up our first year?” You nod slowly. “It was me. I was the one who sabotaged it.”

“You- you what?!”

“I put the extra unicorn horn in when you turned in our tests. It didn’t have a bad reaction until you put in another pinch,” Doyoung explains. You look at him, already feeling the tears welling up at his words.

“I-I almost failed because of you- I thought we were friends! Why would you do that to me?!” You yell. Doyoung looks away from you.

“Because you were going to get a better grade than me, and I needed to be the one at the top of the class,” he says. You stand up and step away from the table. No wonder Doyoung had something on his mind. It was total guilt from what he’d done.

“I asked you if you needed help-

“You think I wanted help from a mudblood?!”

Silence fills the air between the two of you and you feel the tears roll down your cheeks.

You had thought nothing could go wrong this year, not when you had friends by your side, and especially not when Doyoung and you became friends again.

You couldn’t have been more wrong.

“You act like muggle-borns are the worst people, but you purebloods are the ones that are such bullies and cowards and- and idiots!” You pull out your wand and point it at Doyoung, glaring at him. He pulls out his own wand, pointing it back at you.

“Expelliarmus!” Doyoung’s wand goes flying and clattering to the floor and you sniffle, wiping at your eyes.

“You wanted a rival, Doyoung. Now you’ve got one. I’m going to be so much better at everything than you, and I’ll make sure you never surpass me. I’ll show you and everyone else just how great a muggle-born can be.”

“…Y/N, how many classes are you taking this year?” Johnny asks from across the dinner table. The sorting ceremony had just finished for your third year at Hogwarts, and while everyone around you had been talking and eating, you decided to get another head start on your studies.

It was necessary if you wanted to beat Doyoung in all of your classes.

“Ten. I tried for eleven but Professor McGonagall said that no matter how smart I was, it wasn’t possible.”

“Ten- Y/N, you’re a third year. The max is nine classes, and most finish the year with eight! I mean, I barely finished with eight!” You roll your eyes and look up at Johnny.

“Not to be rude, Johnny, but your talents don’t really lie in using your brain like me. You’re better at brute force.”

“First of all, that was totally rude,” Johnny says, but he laughs anyways. “Second of all, just because you have a brain doesn’t mean you have to burn it out. Give yourself some kind of break.”

“I can’t. I have to be the best,” you say.

“You keep saying that, but you never say why. What happened before the school year started? Did someone say something to you?” Johnny moves his hand to grab yours, and he squeezes it. “You know I’ll deal with them, right?

Your eyes wander past Johnny to the Slytherin table, where you see Doyoung staring right at you. You glare and look back at Johnny. You didn’t need Johnny to deal with Doyoung. You were already doing that.

“No need. I’m already dealing with them,” you say. You pull your hand away and close your book, standing up right after.

“I’ll see you back in the common room. I can’t study with all this noise.”

“What- Y/N! You didn’t even eat-!”

You walk out of the Great Hall, with many eyes on you as you exit. You weren’t supposed to leave until everyone else left, but you had been doing this for three years now. Johnny would tell you the new password later, and in the meantime, you were going to go find a nice corner to sit and study in.

“Y/N!”

Or not.

You keep walking, not wanting to turn around at that voice. You were going to be hearing it for the rest of the year, so at least for today you could be rid of it.

But then you feel your legs wobble beneath you and you fall to the floor, forced to look back at him.

“A Jelly-Legs Jinx? Really?”

“Well, you wouldn’t stop, now would you?” You frown at Doyoung and wave your wand at him, performing the exact same curse. His knees buckle and he falls to the floor in front of you, with a roll of his eyes as he does.

“Really?”

“Yes, really. What do you want?”

“I-“ Doyoung pauses for a long moment, and when he has to think his words over, you quietly mumble the counter curse and feel your legs return to their natural strength. You stand up and Doyoung looks at you, frowning. “Wait!”

“I did wait! You didn’t say anything!”

Doyoung rolls his eyes and waves his wand again, ready to perform the jinx once more, but you’re faster and you quickly knock his wand out of his hand with another Expelliarmus.

“I hate how good at that spell you are,” Doyoung says. You snort at his words, and then quickly bite it down before it turns into more laughter. He was your rival, which meant there was no laughing to be had.

“I’m glad you can admit I’m better. I’m sure it must hurt your pure-blood pride.”

“Oh shut up- I came to apologize not to be ridiculed by you,” Doyoung says. You roll your eyes and wave your wand again at him.

“Rictusempra.”

Doyoung starts slapping at parts of his body, laughing as he does, clearly trying to get the tickling charm to stop but of course it being ineffective. You laugh at him, finding the scene all too funny and hard to keep in. For someone so proud, he looked pretty pathetic right about now.

“Oh- ha-hahaha- Y/N! Come on- ha-haha-haha!”

“Good luck, Doyoung! Bye!”

Before Doyoung can even do anything, you rush off, laughing still as you do.

Encounters between you and Doyoung don’t stop there, and, most of the time, end in duels between the two of you. While they’re mostly harmless, there are more than a few that ended in an Incendio spell setting your robes on fire, and even once burning your hand. Nothing too serious, but it still hurt and you got Doyoung back with a good Flipendo that sent him right into a group of students. It had been a good enough distraction for you to run away and make it back to the Gryffindor Common Room before Doyoung could try anything else.

You’re sure the duels weren’t what Doyoung really wanted, but it was impossible to stop them when Doyoung tried to keep you in the same place long enough for you to listen to whatever crap he wanted to say, and you weren’t willing to listen.

Besides, the dueling was fun, and it kept you up on your spell casting.

That is, of course, until you get in trouble for dueling without permission. Afterall, there was a club for it.

You had been avoiding Doyoung for what felt like the fifth time that week, and came across Johnny walking and talking with the other Gryffindor Quidditch members when you interrupt.

“Johnny! Hide me!” You say, quickly shoving yourself between him and someone else. You grab the back of his robes and walk behind him, doing your best to use his tall stature to hide you. It doesn’t work well though, especially when he asks questions.

“What- what are you doing?” He asks, trying to turn around.

“Hiding! Just let me walk behind you for a minute-

“Y/N!”

You pull on Johnny’s robes, only for him to lose footing and fall back, bringing him with you as you tumble to the ground together. You groan and quickly push him off, getting up to rush off, but not before a spell is thrown at you, making you trip and fall again. You huff and turn around, throwing your own nonverbal spell back at Doyoung. He himself trips, and you quickly get up, pointing your wand at him.

“Y/N- what is going on?” Johnny asks, grabbing at your pant leg beneath you. You shrug down at him and grin.

“Dueling. Why do you ask?”

“Dueling?!”

“Flipendo!” You wave your wand in front of you, easily muttering a Protego under your breath as the spell bounces off your shield spell. Doyoung throws a few more at you, and you start backing up as he comes closer. The other Gryffindor students that had been around you all dodge out of the way of your duel, and Doyoung swiftly moves around them as he walks towards you.

“You know, it’s not nice to back your opponent into a corner, Doyoung.”

“It’s not nice to ignore your opponent either, now is it?”

“Oh, whatever! Stupefy!” Doyoung looks shocked as you fire off the fourth-year spell at him, but it doesn’t shake him up enough as he shouts out his own spell.

“Protego!”

“Come on Doyoung! You're never going to catch me like that,” you taunt. Doyoung’s face hardens and you turn down the hallway, looking back for a moment only to see Doyoung running after you, faster than before.

“You're starting to seriously piss me off!” Doyoung fires another spell at you, you block it, laughing, and then he yells, “Imperio!”

You let out another shield spell, but whatever spell Doyoung’s fired off seems to go right through it and hits you. Your eyes widen for a moment and immediately after your mind goes blank. It feels like a weight is lifted off your shoulders, and any stress you might have been having just disappears into thin air. You watch vaguely as Doyoung stands in front of you, his own eyes wide, as if he was scared of what he just did.

Then, all the feelings that disappeared come back to you in a rush as you hear Professor McGonagall round the corner, yelling at the two of you. You fall to your knees, your head pounding as you try to gather your thoughts, and you feel Doyoung next to you moments later, spouting healing spells at you. It makes the pounding in your head go away eventually, but it's replaced by incessant murmured apologies from Doyoung.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…”

“Both of you- detention before dinner! We will talk about your further punishment later, for dueling outside of dueling club and for- for using an unforgivable curse on another student.” There are a few gasps in the distance, and you can see the other Gryffindor students watching the scene unfold. The professor turns on them and yells once more. “Off to class! Now!”

Everyone scurries away except Johnny who rushes to your side, helping you up. The professor looks you over, patting your head, seemingly to examine you. Once she’s satisfied, she sighs and then looks to Johnny.

“Take her to the infirmary, Mr. Seo. It's better to make sure than be sorry later.”

“Of course, professor.”

“Mr. Kim. Off to class. We will discuss this later.”

“Yes, professor.”

Doyoung rushes off in the opposite direction of you and Johnny, and Johnny begins leading you to the infirmary. As you're walking, you can’t help but think about the unforgivable curse Professor McGonagall mentioned. You had been studying a lot of spells since you and Doyoung started dueling, but you never came across anything called that.

“What's an unforgivable curse?” You ask Johnny. He stops and looks at you.

“What? Even you don't know? Ms. I've-been-stealing-Johnny’s-fourth-year-books-to-learn-spells-to-duel- Kim Doyoung? He was the one bothering you, wasn't he? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We're friends- we were just dueling for fun,” you lie. You're not sure why you do, but even so, Johnny wouldn’t look pleased either way.

“Friends don't use the Imperius Curse on other friends.” He turns to you, putting his hands on your shoulders and squeezing them. “There's three unforgivable curses. The Imperius Curse, the Cruciatus Curse, and the Killing Curse. They’re unforgivable because they do terrible things to their victims, and evil wizards and witches use them for their own enjoyment. It’s dark magic, Y/N. And he- he used one of them on you.”

“That doesn’t mean he's evil. He's just… easy to annoy,” you say.

“Why are you defending him? He tried to use mind control on you!” You push away from Johnny and shrug, crossing your arms.

“I don’t know- we were just dueling. Why are you getting so upset over it?”

“Because-" Johnny stops himself and shakes his head. “Never mind. Let's just get you to the infirmary. You should be resting.”

After getting checked over by Madam Pomfrey in the infirmary and resting there for a few hours, you head off to Professor McGonagall’s classroom to receive your punishment. Doyoung is already sitting inside of the classroom, his arms on the table and his head in his arms. You grin and wave your wand at him, watching as your spell hits his robes and begins making them float.

Doyoung doesn’t even react and continues to stay in his position. Your grin falls and you walk over to the table, crouching in front of it and poking Doyoung.

“Ooo, there’s a ghost messing with your robes…”

Doyoung peeks out from his arms, and you can see his eyes are red and parts of his face blotchy and bloated. He quickly turns away from you, rubbing at his eyes quickly, clearly to wipe away any remaining tears.

“Doyoung, were you crying?”

“No- shut up. Why are you even talking to me?”

“…because I like annoying you,” you say. You move around the table and take a seat in the one next to Doyoung. “Plus, we might be rivals but I can’t let my rival be crying. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. We’re rivals. Not friends,” he says. “Besides. Why would you listen to me now when you wouldn’t listen before?”

“Well-

“Mr. Kim. If you’d come with me.” The two of you look up to see Professor McGonagall, a grim look on her face. You frown, not sure why you guys were getting separate scolding’s. It seemed unnecessary, but, then again, you were already in trouble so there was no real point in arguing with her.

You stay quiet as you watch Doyoung follow the professor into a side room. She closes the door and you’re left alone. Quickly, you rush towards the room and put your ear to the door, trying to listen in. When you don’t hear anything, figuring it has to be enchanted, you return to your seat and amuse yourself by making various things in the room float.

Eventually, Doyoung comes out and takes a seat next to you, mumbling that it was your turn. You walk to the room and it closes behind you, and Professor McGonagall sits there at a desk, writing various things down.

“Sit.”

You do as she says, sitting in one of the chairs opposite the desk, and watch as she writes.

“I cannot express how disappointed I am in you, Ms. Y/N. As one of the top students in the school, you are to set an example, and yet here you are, dueling outside of dueling club- Mr. Kim said this is the twenty-seventh time. Is that right?”

“…I wasn’t really keeping track, but maybe that’s close…” You clasp your hands in your lap, feeling the professor’s disappointment wash over you. This sucked way worse than her being angry and yelling at you.

“Detention. Until the holidays. It only seems fitting.”

“Yes, professor.”

“Along with that, you will have in-school suspension for the week for using spells outside of your grade. Which means no wandering the corridors between classes, or after meals, and no trips to Hogsmeade.”

“Professor-!” She gives you a hard look, and you immediately back down, nodding your head. “Yes, professor.”

“If something like this happens again, I cannot guarantee that I’ll be as lenient. Do you understand?”

You nod your head, and the professor waves at the door. It opens for you, and you quickly exit, mumbling under your breath. “That was lenient?”

You walk back to your seat next to Doyoung and sit, frowning at the piece of paper that’s been placed on the desk. Doyoung has one too but has apparently already started writing. The professor comes out of the side room and sits at her main desk, eyes trained on the two of you.

“One more thing. An essay, explaining everything about dueling you know, considering the two of you seemed to be extremely good at it. I’d like it finished before dinner.”

You frown and take out one of your pens you had always kept in your robes, quickly beginning to write.

Though, the second the professor looks away to do something else, you quickly enchant it to write by itself. While essays came easy to you, they came even easier when you didn’t have to cramp your hand while doing it. Doyoung lets out a sigh as you do so but doesn’t seem to tattle on you.

“Bet I can finish my essay before you,” you mumble to Doyoung.

He doesn’t even look at you as he mumbles out “you’re on” and starts writing faster.

After the whole detention debacle, things go back to how you expected them to go for the rest of the school year. Your in-school suspension is spent mostly in your bedroom, studying and working on ways besides studying that will bother Doyoung. You don’t come up with much, instead, Doyoung and you continue being rivals, quietly, with no other ridiculous stunts like dueling every week. Even in detention together, the two of you don’t speak much, especially since Doyoung sits as far as possible from you. It seemed he was taking this whole rival thing seriously now. In turn, that meant you had to work even harder to not let Doyoung surpass you in any of your classes, which also meant ditching Johnny to study and do homework. He didn’t really like it, the complaints happening every time you had to ditch him for homework. At least it was only one friend you had to deal with doing that, since Yuta and Taeyong were always busy with Quidditch, especially when they were both captains to boot.

Really, it’s an easy rest of the year. Your birthday passes, with you eating cake alone in the kitchens. Christmas passes, with you staying with Johnny for the holidays.

And once the new year starts, you don’t see much of Doyoung anymore, especially when you don’t have detention together. It’s only in classes when you really meet, but it’s not like you really talk much or anything. The two of you really just keep your distance.

Déjà vu hits you one day as you’re wandering the school grounds, realizing that something like this happened the previous two years as well. Granted, you were the one who caused the distance between you and Doyoung this time, but even so, it was still the same.

You frown, suddenly missing the times you and Doyoung were together.

“Y/N!” You turn around to see Johnny geared up with the other Gryffindor Quidditch players walking right towards you, and you put on a smile, not wanting to worry him. “You don’t look busy right now, which means you can come to the game today-

“Oh, no, I actually have to-

“Nuh-uh. No excuses from you today! Let’s go!” Johnny grabs your hand and begins dragging you towards the Quidditch Pitch, ignoring any and all protests from you as you go.

It’s hard to focus during the game, though, especially when Doyoung is the one doing the commentary. You barely even give anyone else a second thought as you stare across the way at him.

Hearing him enjoying the game, and seeing him smile whenever Slytherin gets a point makes your chest contract with a feeling you’re not entirely sure of. All in all, the game sucks, even when Gryffindor triumphs over Slytherin.

And, as the year ends, and your fourth year at Hogwarts comes and goes as well, the feeling doesn’t leave. Beating Doyoung grade wise in your lessons both years didn’t even bring you as much joy as you wanted. Really, it kind of just upsets you further.

Your fifth year at Hogwarts starts with the same terrible feeling in your chest you’ve had since third year, right at the beginning of the school day in your second class. You had decided on taking muggle studies that year, knowing it’d be an easy class that you’d get top grades for, but a frown immediately takes to your face as you see Doyoung sitting at the front. He’s the only Slytherin you can see in the whole class, yellow and blue and red robes making up the rest of the students. He stuck out like a sore thumb and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you made your way to the seat next to him.

“Weird seeing you here, Doyoung,” you say, setting your bag down and taking a seat. Doyoung looks at you and mirrors your frown.

“Why is it weird? Am I not allowed to take this class?”

“Oh, no. You’re allowed. Just didn’t think someone like you could stand the smell of all the un-pure blood in the room.”

“Hey-

“What?” You smirk at him, shrugging. “I’m just speaking the truth. Plus, knowing your family, wouldn’t they disown you for taking a class like this?”

Doyoung rolls his eyes and looks down at his textbook. “How can I beat you at every subject if I don’t take it?”

You snort, happy you could get under his skin. It made the tightness in your chest dissipate just a little bit, the banter between the two of you feeling good and almost friendly. Though, you probably could have been a little friendlier. “I’d love to see you beat me in this class.”

“Watch me,” Doyoung mumbles.

The class starts only moments later, and you feel even better as you watch Doyoung take notes on every single thing while all you did was doodle in one of your notebooks. Everything you were hearing you knew first hand, so notes truly seemed like a waste of time. Plus, your doodles of Doyoung furiously writing things down were far more entertaining anyways.

Doyoung must look over at you at some point, because he huffs and scribbles a few words into your notebook – stop drawing me and pay attention – but you just laugh and ignore him.

The class becomes even more entertaining when you and a few Hufflepuff students have to correct the professor on something, your eyes turning to Doyoung afterwards to see him see him writing down whatever you had said.

If he wasn’t such a jerk about his pureblood status, you’d almost think his interest in muggle studies was cute.

When the class ends, you notice Doyoung quickly shoving things into his bag before pulling a box off the ground you didn’t notice before. He sets it on his desk and looks at you, pointing at it.

“For you. See you later,” he says before rushing off.

“Huh? Doyoung!” You stare after him, confused as ever before looking to the box again. There’s a note attached to it and you pluck it off to read.

Happy late birthday. For the last two years, I mean. And sorry about our last duel third year. Hope you stay warm this winter. -Doyoung

You set the note down and open up the package, irritation building as you see the expensive sweater staring back at you. How could Doyoung gift you something so nice, and apparently for your birthday and as an apology? Who did he think he was?

You weren’t even friends. He was the one that made sure of that. And yet, this felt terribly friendly and nice and you shut the package closed, shoving the note into your bag and standing up. Doyoung was such a jerk. The worst type of jerk.

You rush out of the room, intent on finding him so you could return the package and give him a piece of your mind.

Unfortunately, no matter how many times you end up shoving the package back to Doyoung, he shoves it right back at you and disappears before you can get a word in edgewise. You decide on just handing it off to another Slytherin so they can give it back to him, and find your chance when you end up meeting Doyoung’s sister. She offers to give it back after initially declining, and though you didn’t get a chance to yell at Doyoung, at least you wouldn’t be burdened by his stupid gift.

Or, so you thought, until your birthday rolls around.

You go to the kitchens for your usual cake, and, for the third year in a row, Doyoung isn’t there. Instead, a larger cake sits there on the table, with a note next to it clearly written in Doyoung’s scrawl, and the stupid package gifted to you earlier in the year wide open to let you know just what was in it. You take the note in your hands and frown.

“Happy birthday…” You sit down at the table, folding up the note and stuffing it into one of your pockets. You cut yourself a slice of cake, place it on a smaller plate and jab a fork into it, bringing it to your mouth right after.

You’re not sure if it’s the cake or if it’s you, but it’s bland and boring and you can’t help but feel as lonely as you did in your first year at school.

And then, the feeling you couldn’t describe hits you full force and you realize exactly what it was.

School wasn’t fun if Doyoung wasn’t by your side. Studying together, doing homework together, talking in between classes, hanging out in the library, dueling when you weren’t supposed to, getting in trouble together, being rivals and being friends.

None of it was fun without Doyoung.

So, you stand up, enchant the cake to follow you with a quick wave of your wand, and head for the dungeons.

It doesn't hit you until you’re standing in front of Slytherin’s house that your plan to see Doyoung probably should've been thought through a little better. You had no idea where he was, nor had any way of seeing him if he was in fact in his house. Unless you broke the rules, but that'd probably be unbecoming of a prefect, and you didn't want to get on McGonagall’s bad side again.

You frown and think for a moment about some sort of spell that could help you out, but are interrupted by a voice just a few feet away from you.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” You turn and find yourself face to face with none other than the person you were looking for, Kim Doyoung, with a stupid frown on his face and a bag of cookies in one hand. That traitor.

“I came to see you. And to give you a present.” Doyoung raises an eyebrow but doesn’t get to ask what exactly you were talking about as the cake you had enchanted is hurled right at Doyoung with a flick of your wand. It hits him square in the face, the cake exploding and coloring the walls and floors of the dungeon around Doyoung. You bite your lip as you snort, trying to hold it in, but seeing the ever so serious Doyoung like that is just too much. You burst into laughter, doubling over as Doyoung stands in shock in front of you.

This had been your plan all along, mostly to get back at Doyoung and to also lighten the mood before you had the big talk you wanted to have with him, but you truly didn't think it would be this funny.

“Y/N- what- goddamnit, what is your problem?!” Doyoung finally says. You look up at him through the tears that had started to gather in your eyes, and watch as he wipes cake from his face, tossing it to the ground. “You think this is so funny, huh?”

“Hilarious.”

“Yeah, well, I'll show you how hilarious it is,” Doyoung says. He gathers a glob of cake from his hair and walks toward you, and you can already see where this was going.

“Nuh-uh, don't you dare-

“Oh, but it’s your birthday, Y/N. I think you deserve some cake.” Doyoung has you by the hand before you can get away, and then there's cake being shoved into your face, Doyoung smearing it as much as possible so that it covers every inch of skin. Doyoung laughs as he pulls away, and you wipe the cake from your eyes, grinning back at him.

“I'm glad you’re having fun,” you say.

“You started it.”

You chuckle and look down at your hand, still being held by Doyoung's, and squeeze it. Now that the fun had been had, it was time to talk.

“Why can't we just be like this?” You ask. “We have so much fun together, but then something happens and you pull away or I pull away. Why can’t we just be friends, Doyoung?”

You look up at Doyoung to see him looking down at your hands, and when he looks back at you, he's got this ridiculously sad look on his face.

“Because I was raised to hate people like you and every time something happens I'm reminded that we aren't supposed to be friends and when we are I keep hurting you. I don't want to but it happens anyways-

“We’re young, Doyoung. You're bound to make mistakes.”

“Purposefully sabotaging your potions midterm wasn't a mistake. I did it with zero regrets,” Doyoung says, and he pulls his hand away from yours.

“You realized how crappy you were afterwards though. Otherwise you wouldn’t have told me.”

“What about when we were dueling and I…” Doyoung chokes up for a moment and you know exactly what incident he's talking about.

“Have you used that spell since?”

“God, no. I don't even want to think about it.”

“Then who cares what you did?” You ask and Doyoung gives you a look like you've said the stupidest thing in the world. “Okay, let me rephrase. You've done things that hurt me, but you regret them and that's what matters. I don't care anymore, Doyoung-

“But I do-

“That’s great, but start caring about me some more instead and work harder so that you don't hurt me again! You're the only one that can tell you what to do, Doyoung. So if you don't want to hurt me, then don't.”

“That's so much easier said then done-

“I don't think so. If I don't want to see a friend of mine upset, then why would I do something that I know would make them upset? I- ugh, this is so stupid, Doyoung.”

“Then let's stop talking about it and just forget it happened,” Doyoung says. He takes a step away from you, but you roll your eyes and grab his hand, squeezing it tightly.

“I hate not being friends with you, Doyoung. All the magic and learning in the world doesn't mean anything to me if I can't do it with you. I can have a bunch of other friends, but that doesn’t mean I don't feel so stupidly lonely when I'm sitting in the library with them wishing it was you instead.” You can feel tears pricking at your eyes, and you sniffle as you squeeze at Doyoung's hand, willing him to understand all your feelings.

“When we study together and compete against each other and are just with one another, that's my favorite time being at this school. I was so lonely and missed my normal life and no one wanted to be my friend when I came here. Except you. I miss you, Doyoung,” you say, looking up at him. He's got tears in his eyes too, and he quickly looks away, looking at anything but you.

“Can't you just fricking admit you miss me too and work on all the things you need to work on and be my friend again?”

Doyoung is silent for a long time, and as you blink back your tears, you think maybe he'll just ignore your words. If that's what he truly wanted, then you'd let him go. But you were certain he didn't want that. You were certain he wanted to be friends with you again too, it was just buried behind a bunch of other complex thoughts and emotions.

Doyoung confirms it when you feel him squeezing your hand back.

“There's not a day that goes by where I don't miss you, Y/N,” he says. You smile, feeling tears start to roll down your cheeks. “I always thought of you as my best friend- and learning magic with you was when I was happiest. Being a pure-blood, everyone looks at you differently and like they have to walk on eggshells around you- they just expect you to be someone they fear- but you never did. You always just looked at me with a smile- but- but I hurt you- but even then you still didn’t look at me any different even when I deserved it.”

“Doyoung…”

“I hate the me that hurt you again and again, and the me that listened to the hateful words and practiced all the dark magic my parents wanted me to learn. I don't- ever since that duel, I didn't want anything more to do with it. Seeing you like that-

“I'm okay, Doyoung,” you say, hoping he'll understand it was true. He nods and takes a deep breath.

“I don't deserve another chance, Y/N. But if you’re willing to give me one, then I swear I'll do my best to not screw up again. I won't be the Doyoung I hate, and I'll work hard to be a Doyoung that won't hurt you.”

“Knowing you, I'm sure you won't fail. You never do,” you say, and Doyoung laughs. He squeezes your hand and just laughs, and you can't help but join him. “Let's be friends again.”

Doyoung nods. “Okay.”

As per usual, Doyoung and you fall into a routine together. You walk to classes with each other, you take your meals elsewhere so you can talk about magic and studying together, you huddle down in the library and are often in your own world even when your other friends join you, but you can't bother to care about anyone else because your first friend at this school is your friend again, and even though it's clear there's moments Doyoung hesitates or looks like he wants to run away, he works through it and stays by your side.

You couldn't be happier.

“I don't like him,” Johnny says one day, frowning at you as you sit in the library together. You were waiting for Doyoung to show up and Johnny had tagged along with you only because Quidditch practice had been cancelled due to the weather. He was leaning over the other side of the table, both of his hands on one of yours as they fiddled with your fingers out of boredom. You roll your eyes at your best friend, already having had this conversation three times over by this point.

“He doesn't like you either, if that makes you feel better,” you say. Johnny sits up abruptly, shock on his face.

“Since when? You never told me that!”

“I don't know. Recently he said something.”

“Why not? I'm great! Why wouldn't he like me?” Johnny asks, starting to look upset at the thought that Doyoung didn't like him. You laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

“You don't like him either. Why does it matter?”

“Because- he's your friend- I want your friend to like me!”

You tilt your head in confusion. “I really don't understand you.”

“I-” Johnny pauses, staring at you with a hard, calculating look. It makes you squirm and you have to look away. “Y/N, do you like anyone?”

You blink in even more confusion at the floor, your best friend's question taking you off guard. You'd never really thought about it, too preoccupied with the whole magic learning thing. How could anyone think about romance when there were new spells to learn and new potions to brew every day?

“Y/N, sorry for being late.” You look up from the floor to see Doyoung, looking a little frazzled from clearly rushing from somewhere to the library, and you smile at him, shaking your head because you were just glad to see him show up.

“It's okay. I was waiting for you anyways.”

Doyoung smiles softly at you and takes his usual seat by your side. The two of you begin to crack open your books, but Johnny, forgotten from the other side of the table, clears his throat to interrupt you.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he says. You laugh and shrug.

“I haven't really thought about it.”

“About what?” Doyoung asks.

“Johnny wants to know if I like anyone.” Doyoung nods his head slowly, quiet for a long moment before looking at you.

“You don’t?”

“I just said- wait, do you?” You ask. Doyoung stares at you before quickly looking away, shaking his head. “You're blushing- you do like someone! Who is it?”

“No one- shut up. Let's just study.”

“But now I want to know,” you say, leaning close to Doyoung with a pout on your face. “Come on, I want to know. Don't you want to tell me?”

“No, I want to study.”

“Oh my god!” Johnny slams his hands on the desk as he stands up, and you look at him, confused at the shocked expression on his face. He looks as if he just had the greatest epiphany in the world, but you were still in the library so you immediately shush him.

“What? Don't be so loud, Johnny.”

“You-!” Johnny points at Doyoung, and you look between the two, watching as they stare at each other with harsh glares and you can feel a tension between them growing.

“Johnny, sit down before we get kicked out-

“You can't,” Johnny says. Doyoung snorts and rolls his eyes.

“What are you, my parents? I already know I can’t.”

“Good. You try anything and I'll snap you in half.”

“At least I'd have the guts to try,” Doyoung says. You have no idea what your two friends were talking about, but it didn’t matter as you watched the librarian approach, clearing her throat as she stopped in front of your table.

“Out, Mr. Seo.”

“Huh?” Johnny whips around to face Madam Pince, and you snort under your breath as he jumps away. “Jeez, you just snuck up on me!”

“Because I know how to be quiet in a library, Mr. Seo. Unlike you. Which is why I have told you to leave.”

“But-

“Out.”

Johnny looks back at you, opens his mouth to say something, but ultimately sighs and gathers his things. You watch as Madam Pince leads him out of the library, and once he's out of your sight, you turn back to Doyoung.

“What was that about?”

“Nothing. Let's study,” Doyoung says as he leans forward, beginning to take notes as he reads from his charms book. You frown but do the same, whatever conversation between your friends truly over and done with.

Even though they had ended it, you can’t stop thinking about the conversation from the library. It doesn’t impede your studying or anything luckily, but you do find yourself thinking about it often when you’re around Doyoung. Did he really like someone? And if so, who was it? And why did Johnny seem to know but you didn’t?

You stare at the boy who had been constantly occupying your thoughts from across the Great Hall, trying to see if he interacted with anyone enough that it seemed like he had a crush on them. Rather than seeing anyone though, you just see him consistently being pulled in every single direction by so many different Slytherins, and you wonder how he can even eat properly when all he seemed to be doing was something someone else wanted.

Didn’t Doyoung know how to say no to people?

“Y/N, are you listening to me?” You hear Johnny ask, your giant of a best friend shoving his way into your eyesight as he pushes his face ridiculously close to yours. You frown and back away, scrunching your nose at his proximity.

“No, I wasn’t. Why are you getting so close?”

“I had to get your attention somehow,” Johnny says, leaning close again. You’re about to shove at him but are interrupted when what seems like a baked potato explodes against the side of his head. You’re in shock for only half a second before bursting out in laughter.

“Who-?!” Johnny whips around to look for any sort of culprit, but everyone nearby seems just as shocked as him. Johnny huffs and sits back down, wiping a glob of potato off the side of his face and plucking it onto his clearly finished plate.

“So not funny...” You snort and Johnny glares at you to shut you up, but seeing chunks of potato still in his hair makes you start laughing again. “Y/N!”

“What?” You ask between laughs. Johnny rolls his eyes and stands up, leaving you and a few of your fellow Gryffindors to your laughter.

And then, once your eyes land on him again, you know exactly who the culprit is as you see his hand over his mouth, wand in the other, clearly trying to hold back any laughter while the rest of the Slytherin students around him look utterly confused. The two of you make eye contact and you grin at Doyoung, giving him a thumbs up. He shoots you his own grin, an adorable gummy smile that you don’t really see that often, but given to you now like a secret that only he wanted you to know about.

Your heart flutters in a way it never has before, and you have to look away to stop any and all weird feelings bubbling from your chest.

“Is Doyoung not coming today?” Johnny asks as he sits across from you in the library once again, for once actually studying since the midterms were coming up. You shake your head, furiously writing down a sentence in your notebook before looking up at him.

“I told him I was busy. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something,” you say, setting your pen down. Johnny raises an eyebrow and looks at you.

“About?”

“About...” Your eyes wander around the room for a moment, not sure what words to say in this situation. It seemed awfully stupid to be asking about how it felt to like someone, but Johnny seemed to know better than anyone. “How does it feel when you like someone?”

“What?!” Johnny is immediately shushed by Madam Pince and he gives a slight bow in apology to her before looking back to you. “You like someone?” He whisper-yells. “Since when? Who is it?”

“I never said that- I just asked how it feels- I don’t know if I like anyone-

“You’re asking about it, that means you like someone-

“I don’t- okay, maybe I do- but maybe I don’t and that’s why I’m asking how it feels!” You say, leaning closer so you could whisper even quieter, as if anyone was really going to eavesdrop on your conversation.

Johnny leans close too, staring at you, his eyes flickering back and forth between your own, like he was looking for answers that only you could give. You frown, wanting him to answer you already, and you flick his cheek with your index finger.

“Well?”

Johnny leans back. “Things I would look out for are, like... Heart rate increasing, feeling happy around them, thinking about them often, wanting to be around them- or, you know, butterflies in the stomach because you’re nervous around them. Stuff like that. I would say wanting to kiss them or hold them too, but not everyone feels that...”

You think back to when Doyoung smiled at you so brightly in the Great Hall the other night, your heart fluttering at the sight, and feel a smile coming to your face.

“Oh my god, you like someone,” Johnny says. You whip your head to look at him and shake your head.

“I don’t.”

“You were just smiling to yourself thinking about them- that's what people with crushes do all the time!”

You’re silent for a moment, trying to think of something witty to say, but coming up with nothing. You didn’t have a crush. You especially didn’t have a crush on Doyoung. Just because he made your heart speed up once didn’t mean you liked him. And, it wasn’t like it had happened since. So there was no way you had a crush.

“Can I at least know who it is?” Johnny asks, looking awfully disappointed for some reason. You frown and shake your head.

“No one, because I don’t like anyone. Let’s get back to studying,” you say, picking up your pen again. Johnny sighs but doesn’t say anything more, and you quickly immerse yourself back into your studies.

It isn’t until later, when you’re lying next to Doyoung in astronomy class at the very top of the astronomy tower, that the conversation between you and Johnny comes back to you. It’s not like this class was any different than usual – you laid down, you looked at the stars, you wrote down things the professor talked about when you were sitting in chairs and looking through your telescopes – but for some reason, while lying next to Doyoung, you couldn’t think about anything else but him. The way his hand was touching yours just slightly, the way your shoulders were pressed against each other, the way your eyes would follow the length of his other hand as it pointed out a shooting star in the night sky.

It didn’t help that your heart felt like it was stuttering in your chest, and no matter how much you willed it to just stop, it wouldn’t.

“Y/N, look! There’s another shooting star,” Doyoung whispers to you, his hand tapping yours to get your attention. You look at the sky, scanning the stars until you see what he’s talking about, a stripe of white streak across the dark expanse above you and disappear just as quickly.

“Did you make a wish?” You ask, turning your head to look at Doyoung. Doyoung chuckles and shakes his head as he turns to look at you.

“Nope. I don’t want anything.”

The two of you stare at each other for a long moment, and the stupidest thought you’ve had seems to enter your brain as you lean forward to press your lips against Doyoung’s, finished just as quickly as the shooting star that had just passed over you. You pull away, your heart hammering against your chest as you sit up, and you fidget for only a moment before standing up.

“Professor, I need the bathroom,” you say, not even waiting for an answer as you rush down the astronomy tower, only making it halfway down the stairs before collapsing against them, your breath heavy and your face flushed. You press your hands to your cheeks, shutting your eyes and breathing in and out to try to calm yourself down.

How could you though?

You just kissed Doyoung. In the middle of class. Because maybe you liked him more than a friend and kissing him definitely just solidified that thought.

You liked Doyoung.

You rub your hands against your cheeks quickly in frustration, not at all sure what you were supposed to do with this information.

“Y/N.” You freeze at the voice calling your name and when you don’t answer, Doyoung takes a few more steps down until he’s sitting next to you, closer than you wanted in this moment. You want to move, but you’re sure Doyoung would just follow you, so you stay seated with him, silent, waiting for him to say whatever he wanted to say.

“Did you kiss me because you like me?” He finally asks, quiet and so unsure even though he took forever to say anything. You look at him and find him already looking at you, and you feel your heart stuttering again.

“I...” You can’t really justify making an excuse in this situation, inevitably nodding as you whisper out a quiet ‘yes’ to Doyoung. Doyoung nods as well and looks away, down to his feet, and you’re not at all sure where this was going.

“We have midterms coming up. Then the holidays... Then our O.W.L’s at the end of the school year. Then summer break... Can you...” Doyoung pauses, and now you were even more confused as to where this was going. He looks back to you, earnest and vulnerable, and you wait with baited breath for his next words.

“Can you wait? I mean, for me to answer?”

“Huh?”

“We should focus on our studies and tests this year, but if you’re willing, I want you to wait for my answer. How I feel about you. If you want to know,” Doyoung says. You let out a loud laugh, giving Doyoung a look of pure bafflement. This was certainly not where you expected this to go.

“You want me to wait until next year?” You ask in disbelief.

“What? You can’t?” Doyoung asks, clearly challenging you, and you roll your eyes.

“Of course I can- but just know you sound awfully selfish asking for this-

“I know.”

“And what if I stop liking you by next year- or what if I decide to date someone-

“I’ll still tell you. I want you to know no matter what.”

You open your mouth to say something else, but instead just shake your head. “You’re the worst, Kim Doyoung.”

“Yet you’re the one who likes me,” Doyoung says and you laugh again, shoving at him. “Come on. Let’s go back to class.” He holds out his hand to you after standing up, and you take it, smiling up at him. “By the way...”

“Hm?”

Doyoung places a kiss against your lips before you even realize what’s going on, and your mouth drops open in surprise as he pulls away. “Now we’re even.”

Doyoung doesn’t necessarily pull away from you like he had in the past, but certain actions like sitting close with you in class or hanging out with you in a free period don’t happen anymore, Doyoung telling you that he needed to focus on his studies instead of being distracted by you. Besides shared classes, you barely see him, especially when midterms sneak up on you so fast. Part of you is terribly happy that it seemed like he liked you back, but another part of you was starting to miss him the more you didn’t hang out together.

At least you had Johnny and Taeyong and the rest of your friends to keep you company. And, one day in the library during exam week, you find yourself sitting with Doyoung’s sister and the rest of your friends as you study. You even end up teaching her how a pen works – which is truly baffling, and you think about how Doyoung was also so surprised to see a pen for the first time. It’s cute, but she ends up rushing away after you and Yuta point out some doodles of Taeyong in her notebook, and you turn to said boy of her clear affections.

“Taeyong, when are you going to ask her out?” You say, and Yuta nods in agreement.

“You have all the time in the world since you stopped being prefect-

“Plus,” you interrupt, “she’s been having a hard time because of you! There’s so many rumors about you two and all your fans keep bothering her-

“What?” Taeyong looks shocked, and you nod your head to let him know you were serious.

“Beginning of this year I saw some other students bother her about whatever your relationship is. Make it clear to her and everyone else that you like her already so people will shut up!”

Yuta nods in agreement. “I’m so tired of Jaehyun whining to me about it. He’s probably the worst of the lot since he likes her.”

Taeyong is silent for a long moment before shoving his things into his bag, standing up in a rush and then looking to you. “I’ll talk to her. Any idea where she might’ve went?”

“Nope. But I’ll help you look,” you say, putting your own things away before standing up. Yuta stands up as well, stretching and yawning and both you and Taeyong look to him. He looks back at you, laughs, and shakes his head.

“I’m not helping. I was just going to go get some snacks from the Great Hall. See you guys later,” he says, walking off towards the library entrance.

“Hold up, I’ll come with you, Y/N.” Johnny says, putting his stuff away as quickly as he can. Taeil, the last member of your friend group doesn’t say anything as he stands up as well and puts his things away, your study group clearly done for the day.

You and your friends head towards the library exit as soon as Johnny and Taeil are finished putting their things away, only to be stopped by a commotion in the hallway. Your eyes widen when you see Doyoung’s sister throwing a punch at one of your fellow Gryffindor’s, the girl yelling about expulsion only for Doyoung’s sister to pull out her wand and argue right back at her.

Your eyes wander to Taeyong, hoping he truly understood the issue at hand now, and find him pushing through the crowd that had gathered since the fight started. You watch as Yuta and Taeyong easily dissipate the situation, Yuta taking away the wand in the younger Slytherin’s hand while Taeyong tells the girls off. They rush away, and as head boy, Taeil ushers the other students to follow suit with Johnny’s help, and you ease your way closer, wanting to know if Taeyong was going to solve this issue finally.

Unfortunately, after Taeil hands out some punishment to Doyoung’s sister, you’re dragged away by Johnny before you can even find out whether or not the two were going to resolve their problems.

“Don’t you know what eavesdropping is, Johnny?” You ask when Johnny finally decides to let go of your arm. He laughs and shakes his head.

“Since when did you care so much?”

You shrug. “I care about Taeyong- I want him to be happy. Don’t you want one of your best friends to be happy, Johnny?”

“Of course I do. But I’m sure Taeyong will figure things out for himself,” Johnny says.

“Or things will just get worse from here... Do you know how stubborn Doyoung’s sister is?”

“As stubborn as you, probably. Considering you still won’t tell me who you like-

You open your mouth in shock, pretending to be surprised about something so you could get out of this conversation. No way were you telling Johnny you liked Doyoung. “I just realized- I'm supposed to be meeting McGonagall about my transfiguration midterm-

“You are such a liar-

“Me? Never!” You pull out your wand and quickly mumble a jelly legs jinx under your breath at Johnny, watching as he collapses to the ground with a groan and a shout of your name. “Sorry, gotta go, Johnny!”

Midterms pass, the holidays pass, and the next time you truly talk to Doyoung is after a particularly interesting match between Slytherin and Hufflepuff, where his sister and Taeyong take a harsh dive to the ground after a bludger had hit her square in the head and Taeyong decided to catch her. They’re both rushed to the infirmary, Doyoung following after and you hurrying down from the stands to not only make sure the pair was okay, but to make sure Doyoung was okay.

You find Doyoung outside of the infirmary, pacing back and forth like crazy, wiping at tears that wouldn’t stop flowing. Your heart is heavy looking at him so worried, and you rush to him, standing in his path. He stops and looks up at you, and before you know it, you’re being pulled into his tight embrace as he lets loose even more tears.

“I’m so scared, Y/N- what if she isn’t alright- what if Madam Pomfrey can’t do anything for her-

“Doyoung, shh...” You say, wrapping your arms around him and rubbing one of your hands up and down his back to hopefully calm him somewhat. “Madam Pomfrey knows what she’s doing. And if she couldn’t do anything, I’m sure you and I could come up with a potion to heal your sister or even a spell... We’re not the best for nothing, Doyoung.”

Doyoung sniffles and hugs you tighter, tears spilling into your neck and soaking into your robes. You can’t really be bothered, not when Doyoung definitely needed you.

“It’ll be okay, Doyoung. Your sister will be okay. Taeyong caught her too before she could get hurt even more- she'll be okay.”

Doyoung doesn’t say anything more, just holds you and nods his head and cries.

True to your word, Doyoung’s sister turns out to be just fine, magic definitely saving her from any harsh repercussions after the bludger to the head. At least, that’s what Madam Pomfrey had said, but Doyoung still does his best as a worried brother and looks her over, mumbling any healing spells to get rid of any bruises that she might have received.

You sit down in one of the chairs next to her bed and look up at Doyoung, frowning as he mumbles his tenth healing spell over her head.

“You should give some of those to Taeyong. He saved your sister after all,” you say. Doyoung tears his eyes away to look at the Hufflepuff a few beds away, still knocked out from the fall he took but at least looking better than he did coming in. Doyoung waves his wand once at him as he mutters a spell before taking a seat next to you, closer than you expected.

“Happy?”

“Only one spell to spare?” You tease.

“Shh, I'm tired. Let me rest,” Doyoung says. A moment later he's plopping his head onto your shoulder, and then picking up one of your hands to entwine it with one of his, and you can’t help but shut up as the butterflies in your stomach decide to wake up for the day. It was one of the first interactions you've had with Doyoung in a while, and even though he didn't say anything, his actions spoke louder than any words he could possibly say. You smile and squeeze his hand, hoping you could convey your feelings with such a minor gesture just like Doyoung had done.

“I’ll tell you when she wakes up, okay?”

Doyoung lets out an affirmative hum before nuzzling his head against your neck softly, and for the moment, the infirmary is calm and silent.

The start of your sixth year is normal as usual. You say goodbye to your parents, push yourself through the magic wall to get to Platform 9 and ¾’s, step onto the train after loading your luggage, and start walking to your usual train car where your friends were bound to be sitting.

That is, until you're being pulled into a completely different train car, the door shutting behind you quickly as you turn to face Doyoung. You smile at him and he smiles back, squeezing the hand he had grabbed before pressing a little closer to you. For a moment, all is silent as he leans in, and you can't help but think he was going to kiss you again.

“Nice to see you too, Doyoung,” you say. He nods and ends up pressing his forehead to yours, and you swear your heart starts banging against your chest, looking for a way out. “Fifth year is over… exams are over. Summer break is over… Did you want to tell me your answer now or…?”

“Mm, not yet. But I have something for you…” Doyoung says. Before you can even ask what it is, Johnny is shoving himself into the train car and between the two of you, a goofy grin on his face as he pulls you down into the seat to sit with him. You nearly jinx him for ruining the moment you were having, but hold your tongue as you shoot an apologetic look to Doyoung. The disappointed expression on his face isn't missed by you even though Doyoung tries to hide it by a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head, and you reach out your hand to grab his.

"Sorry...” Doyoung pulls away and reaches the same hand into his robe pocket, and you turn to Johnny who is still all grins.

“I wondered where you went, Y/N. It’s my last year riding the train and I can't just ride it without one of my best friends. I’m going to miss you so much,” Johnny says, pulling you into a hug. It’s crushing but you hug back, patting Johnny’s back and knowing you were going to miss him too.

Even if he was such a big doofus.

When Johnny pulls away, Doyoung clears his throat and the two of you look at him.

“Here,” he says, pulling a sealed letter out of his pocket. “Read this later and let me know your answer, okay?”

“Huh? What is it?” You ask, taking the letter from him. Doyoung smiles and shrugs before taking his leave from the train car. You look down at the letter, wanting so badly to open it now, but not wanting Johnny to see whatever it was. He was too nosy for his own good.

“Are you two dating yet?”

“Huh?” You whip your head towards your best friend, seeing a defeated look on his face. You frown at him and shake your head.

“We aren’t- we don’t-

“I already know, Y/N. I’m your best friend, remember? You don’t even have to tell me.”

“...then why’d you keep asking?”

“To tease you. What kind of friend am I if I don’t tease you about who you like?” Johnny says, laughing and pulling you close again. “I still don’t really like him, but if that’s who you like, and if he makes you happy, then I want you to go for it already.”

Even though Johnny says that, there’s still this weird look in his eyes you can’t quite place. You want to ask about it, but bite your tongue and end up nodding. “He’s supposed to let me know how he feels soon.”

“Good. I hope things work out well.” You nod and smile down at the letter.

“Me too.”

“Taeyong...” You whine loudly next to Taeyong as the two of you sit in the Quidditch stands, and Taeyong chuckles next to you, closing the book he had been reading before turning to you. You look at him with a frown, glad he could hang out with you for once instead of with his girlfriend, but still being upset about an entirely different matter.

“What is it, Y/N?” Taeyong asks. You let out another whine before taking a letter from your pocket – the very same one Doyoung handed to you on the train only a few weeks ago, and give it to Taeyong. He takes it and begins reading, and you whine again, wrapping your arms around one of Taeyong’s and pulling lightly at it.

“Doyoung invited me to the stupid Slug Club Party coming up- he doesn’t know how much I hate the Slug Club. I mean- it's such an elitist club but because the students did one special thing- no offense, Taeyong-”

Taeyong laughs and pulls away from you. “I take full offense- I worked hard on that Pepperup Potion-

“I could brew that potion in my sleep, Taeyong. The professor just knows you’re popular so he invited you in.”

“Wow, you’re really hurting my pride here, Y/N,” Taeyong says.

“Am I wrong though? He does it with every student that’s in the club! Why do you think Doyoung is in the club? He has connections. It’s not because he’s amazing at some subject- because, guess what, I’m one step ahead of him but I’m not in the club!”

“Are you jealous?”

“No!” You yell, sitting back and crossing your arms in a pout. “Maybe at first, I was, but I really think it’s a big waste of time. Professor Slughorn is honestly just kind of creepy. He takes so much interest in the students-!” You pause for a moment, letting out a huff before looking at Taeyong. “I’m sorry, I’m being a jerk about this.”

“A little bit.”

“I just don’t want to go. Especially not with Doyoung. I feel like Slughorn is going to compare us and the two of us already do that enough.”

“Even when he wrote you such a nice letter inviting you?”

“...nice or not, it’s still a dumb club- Oh!” You smile at Taeyong and he immediately shakes his head.

“No.”

“What? You didn’t even hear my question!”

“Whatever it is, my answer is no. I know that smile. It means you’re up to no good.”

You frown and sit back once more. “That’s not at all what that means. I just wanted you to ask me to be your date instead-

“Ha!” Taeyong laughs and you shove at him, knowing how dumb of an idea it was. His girlfriend would probably have a fit if she knew Taeyong invited someone else after probably already inviting her. “Why don’t you just decline Doyoung’s offer then?”

“Lee Taeyong, Doyoung is clearly asking me out. I don’t want to ruin whatever grand plan he has. I’ve been waiting for him for almost a year- he probably really wants me to go,” you say, letting out a sigh of defeat. You knew there was truly no way around this.

“Well, it’s only a few hours. I’m sure it won’t be so bad.”

“Oh, but what if I pretend to be sick?” You ask.

“I’ll tell Doyoung,” Taeyong replies, grinning at you mischievously. “Actually, I’ll make sure he knows just how healthy you are.”

“What if I... just...”

“Y/N, you know you’re not getting out of it.”

Taeyong’s words had never rung truer a week later as you stood in front of the full-length mirror in your bedroom, dressed up for the night so you could attend the stupid Slug Club Party. Your roommates had tried to help you, offering their own share of clothes for you to dress up even fancier if you wanted, but you decided on something simple and comfortable – a pair of black slacks, a frilly, cream-colored blouse with black accents on the edges and hem, and some black flats. One of your roommates had commented that you looked like you were attending a funeral, making you laugh for the moment before remembering what you were actually attending.

You slap your cheeks a little to encourage yourself before heading out with a goodbye and a wave to your roommates. You were supposed to meet Doyoung in front of the Great Hall at around seven, but you purposefully got ready late and made sure to walk as slowly as possible out of the common room and down any flights of stairs to really bide your time. Being a little late wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“It’ll be fun, Y/N...” You mumble to yourself as you reach the bottom of the steps, seeing Doyoung at the end of the hallway in front of the Great Hall doors. He looked handsome even from this distance, and you couldn’t help the smile that made its way to your lips.

“There you are!” Doyoung says, rushing down the hall when he notices you. He comes to stand in front of you, looking even more beautiful than only moments before in a slick, black tux, paired with a green bowtie to let anyone know he was a Slytherin. “What took you so long?”

You shrug. “My roommates kept wanting me to try stuff on.”

“I see...” Doyoung looks you up and down for a moment before smiling and reaching out to take your hand in his. “I like what you picked out. You look nice.”

“Thanks. You look better,” you say, squeezing his hand. Doyoung looks like he wants to retort, but bites back his words as he instead tugs at your hand to lead you to the dungeons, down to the potions classroom where the party was being held. There’re a few people mingling in the hallway, who Doyoung unfortunately has to stop and greet. You offer a short nod at them, the dread that had been eating at you since Doyoung invited you increasing as the seconds ticked by.

You had hated any and all eyes on you since your first year, and stepping into the classroom with Doyoung only brought back that feeling from so many years ago. You think about how you could’ve easily got out of this by using magic or even by drinking a bad potion, but know Doyoung would’ve just been disappointed if you missed it.

“Kim Doyoung, one of my top students- and Y/N, what a surprise!” Professor Slughorn says as he sets his eyes on you. He walks over to you, clapping a hand on the back of Doyoung’s shoulder, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Doyoung, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

Before you know it, Doyoung is being dragged away from you and you’re left alone at the entrance to the party. A feeling sinks to the bottom of your gut, and you have to take a deep breath to calm yourself. Just because Doyoung was being introduced to some other wizard didn’t mean anything. You were just as good as him- better than him, even. This party meant nothing.

You make your way to a corner of the room after grabbing a drink from the food table, doing your best to blend in with the shadows. You didn’t want to interact with anyone, you didn’t want to see anyone, you just wanted to be forgotten in the din of the party.

“You’re going to get a permanent crease in your eyebrows if you keep glaring like that,” a voice says and you look to see Doyoung’s sister, a small smile on her face as she looks at you. You laugh and shake your head before turning to her.

“I’m not glaring. I’m just really invested in this wall.”

“Mmhmm... Didn’t you come with Doyoung? Where is he?”

You shrug. “Somewhere else. Busy mingling. What he always does.”

Doyoung’s sister is quiet for a moment before letting out a quiet click of her tongue and stepping closer to you.

“What?”

“Doyoung has been chasing after you for years, just to be as good at school as you. But aren’t you smarter than him? Why not show everyone just how much better you are?”

“...I don’t need to prove that to everyone. I already know I am.”

“Then why are you sitting over here sulking?”

“I’m not,” you say, though you know she was right. You don’t know how to describe what you were feeling to her, so you turn back to the wall and sigh. “I’m really invested in this wall.”

“You already used that excuse,” she says. You roll your eyes.

“What about you? Where’s Taeyong?”

“Slughorn wanted to introduce him to one of the Quidditch players- don't change the subject. We’re talking about you.”

“There you are.” You and Doyoung’s sister turn to see the culprit of your conversation and feelings, and upon seeing her, Doyoung smiles. “Here with Taeyong, my dear sister?”

“Shut up- I'm not here. I’m- shut up.” Doyoung’s sister rushes off, embarrassment written all over her face, and you laugh as you watch her disappear between the other guests. Doyoung laughs as well before stepping closer to you, and you turn your eyes to him.

“Shouldn’t you be mingling with everyone else?” You ask. Doyoung rolls his eyes.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you. Follow me, will you?” Doyoung holds out his hand for you and you happily take it as long as it got you away from this party.

Doyoung leads you quickly out of the classroom, ignoring any and all calls of his name, and the two of you rush down the nearby corridor to one of the most familiar places in Hogwarts to you: the kitchens. There’re house elves still bustling about surprisingly, preparing food for the next day and still cleaning up from the previous meal, but they’re quickly pushed back to some corner of your mind as you take in the table that Doyoung has clearly prepared for the two of you.

It’s your usual table, of course, but covered in a white tablecloth, with freshly lit candles on top and a plate of cookies fixed in the middle. You laugh as Doyoung ushers you to your seat, and smile at him when he sits across from you.

“Wow. I’ve never had such a grand meal before in my life,” you say, nodding to the cookies. Doyoung snorts.

“It’s honestly just for decoration. I felt like the table was missing something,” Doyoung says.

“It certainly feels homey, at least.”

The two of you are silent, and you decide to take one of the cookies to nibble on, wanting something to do with your hands and mouth. Wasn’t Doyoung going to talk at all? Isn’t that why he dragged you here? Not that you really minded being away from the party, but you also didn’t want to just sit in silence together here.

“Can I be honest about something?” Doyoung ends up saying. You nod your head, and he sighs. “I wasn’t actually going to invite you to the Slug Club Party.” A frown settles on your face and Doyoung quickly shakes his hands in front of him to backtrack. “Not because I didn’t want you coming or anything- because it’s boring and exhausting talking to everyone. I honestly hate parties like that! All that attention makes me want to faze into a wall somewhere and I know you don’t like it either- that's why I wasn’t going to invite you.”

You raise an eyebrow at Doyoung and quickly swallow the bit of cookie in your mouth. “Okay, me I understand but you? Seriously? You interact with everyone so easily- I mean, whenever we aren’t together, you’re talking to someone else-

“Everyone comes to me first. If I could just lay in my bed all day, I would! But I have to live up to what my parents want and our family name so I have to make connections and be the best at everything...”

“Which you aren’t,” you say, smiling at Doyoung. Doyoung snorts and nods his head.

“You’re right. I’m not. I couldn’t beat you at potions without sabotaging you, I couldn’t beat you at muggle studies no matter how hard I tried- you're always one step ahead of me. Except...”

Doyoung moves from his seat across from you to sit next to you, pressing close and wrapping an arm around your waist to bring you impossibly closer. You look at him, willing your heart to calm down a little but finding it ignoring you just as always when you were this close to Doyoung.

“I fell for you first,” Doyoung says. Your eyes widen and you laugh loudly at Doyoung’s words.

“Fell for me first? Are you making this a competition too, Doyoung? Because I confessed first and kissed you first-

“Oh my god, no, no," Doyoung interrupts, laughing as well. “I was just joking-

“Sure, joking- whatever you say.”

“I was- because I know I can joke around you. I know I don’t have to live up to any expectations around you and even though we’re always competing it’s just for fun- that's probably why I like you so much.”

You smile at hearing the words you were waiting for for so long and look to Doyoung, feeling stupidly happy seeing the smile on his own face.

“You’re always making me wait for you, you know that, Kim Doyoung?”

“That’s because I was always listening to what my parents wanted. But if my sister can date someone like Taeyong, then surely I can do what I want as well.” Doyoung moves his face closer to yours and suddenly you’re breathing the same breath as he presses his lips to yours in a short kiss, and somehow the long wait you had to endure is worth it all in that moment.

“Like being friends with someone like me?” Doyoung nods.

“Being friends... or something more,” he says. “Do you still like me, Y/N? Will you go out with me?”

You laugh and press your own kiss to Doyoung’s lips. “I will. Just don’t make me wait like that again. Or invite me to another Slug Club Party. They’re stupid. Why’d you end up inviting me anyways if you weren’t going to in the first place?”

Doyoung is silent for a moment before looking away from you, shrugging. “...maybe it’s payback for the cake you smashed in my face last year.”

“You shoved some in my face too though!” You say incredulously, and Doyoung just laughs.

“Okay, okay- then no more parties. No more waiting. No more cake in each other's faces. We’re even, okay?”

You smile and shake your head. “Sure, sure. We’re even.”

#nct scenarios #doyoung scenarios #kim doyoung scenarios #nct fanfic #doyoung fanfic #sheep writes

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