Thursday, January 5th. 11:17AM. Hogwarts, Headmistress' Office. Park Seonghwa.
Most people probably did not prefer to spend their mornings going through paperwork. Especially if it wasn't even their job and they could be doing something more entertaining instead. Seonghwa didn't mind. In fact, he even enjoyed it in a way. He liked the organizational nature of it. He'd always been the kind of person who liked to live a set schedule. Wake up, have breakfast, go to class. And if he didn't have class because of something beyond his control (like Christmas break for instance), he'd compensate for it with self-study. It was simply more efficient to get things done early. Work first, play later.
That's why he hadn't been too bothered about the note his mother had sent him this morning. He'd already finished his compulsory two hours of studying when it arrived in the common room. It wasn't like he'd had much else to do lately. Helping her with organize her paperwork had just become another point in Seonghwa's daily Christmas break schedule. One that he found himself looking forward to.
Upon entering her office, she'd greeted him with a fresh mug of steaming coffee as well as a tower of files and documents she asked him to sort. He'd wordlessly grabbed a chair, sat down at the desk across from her, and gotten started on his task. He soon fell into a comfortable rhythm of breaking down his pile of paperwork into three new piles: a 'send' pile, an 'important' pile, and an 'archive' pile.
The small wooden clock on the desk between them quietly ticked away as Seonghwa and his mother worked in silence. She disliked being interrupted, so Seonghwa knew better than to start a conversation. He wouldn't know what to say anyway; small talk wasn't exactly his specialty.
Unlike yesterday, the sky outside was gray with snow clouds, thick flakes silently flying past the windows. It didn't look like it was going to stop snowing anytime soon. Good thing Seonghwa wasn't planning on going outside today. This time of year, most parts of the castle were rather chilly, but luckily the fire in the Headmistress' office was alight and provided the room with a pleasant warmth.
The 'archive' pile quickly became the highest of the three piles Seonghwa had established. A majority of the documents consisted of records about updates in lesson structure, important schedules, and a couple of letters from the Ministry of Magic. Some of them even addressed the minister directly. The rest of the documents were folders that contained files about the staff at Hogwarts that needed to be updated every few months before they were put back to the archive.
Seonghwa faltered for a moment when one particular folder fell into his hands. Thick and wrapped in fancy blood-red leather, its cover read Professor David Donovan.
Seonghwa hesitated and stared. Did this folder perhaps hold Professor Donovan's old application form? His resignation letter? Maybe even records of his time as a Hogwarts student and other background information? His fingers itched with curiosity, but he knew that these files were highly confidential. Seonghwa didn't want to break the trust his mother bestowed on him by letting him handle them. Besides, it wasn't right to snoop around other people's business. He'd done that one too many times. He reluctantly put the folder on the 'archive' pile.
He snuck a glance at his mother to make sure she hadn't caught him faltering and took a sip of the coffee she'd made for him. Not too sweet, not too bitter; the smooth flavor was just right.
Seonghwa resumed his task. He found himself fall back into the automation of examining the documents and putting them on the correct file rather easily. His friends would probably deem this type of activity as empty or monotone, but Seonghwa viewed it as something he did well. The only reason his grades were excellent was the fact that he read many of books and diligently practiced magic every day. Not because he was particularly talented.
If he ended up working at the ministry one day, he'd probably be doing this all day. His mother had always wanted that for him, a job at the ministry. But did he want that too? To be honest, he wasn't sure what he wanted to do after he graduated from Hogwarts. He'd never given it much thought. He'd always accepted the plan his mother had in store for him without questioning it. Next time he was free, maybe he'd read a book on career advice.
"How's your break been going?"
Seonghwa startled at the sound of his mother's voice. He'd almost forgotten she was here. Almost. She looked back at him with her usual emotionally neutral expression, waiting for his response.
"Good." His voice came out rough since he hadn't used it all morning. He cleared his throat. "I've been spending time with, uh, Yeosang."
"Kang Yeosang? Jung Wooyoung's friend?"
A spark of old wariness shot through Seonghwa. Was she going to tell him not to associate with him because of what happened with Wooyoung? "Yeah."
She nodded slowly, staring into the fire. Her focus had shifted inward. "He was the only fifth-year to receive an 'Outstanding' for his O.W.L exam in both Potions and Astronomy over the past few years," she said. Then she reconsidered. "Well, besides you, of course. But he's a decent student."
"He's an even better person."
She dragged her eyes away from the fireplace to regard Seonghwa. "I'm sure he is."
An awkward pause followed in which she studied him carefully. Seonghwa shifted in his seat. He remembered his coffee and quickly took another sip.
"Do you... like him?"
Seonghwa almost choked. He set down the mug, coughing. "He has a boyfriend. Kind of."
A mysterious smile appeared on his mother's face. She even let out a quiet chuckle. "I see."
Seonghwa wasn't sure what exactly she'd meant by that, but he returned her smile. Her smile was slightly crooked, much like his own tended to be. Seonghwa resembled his father a lot more than he resembled his mother, but they still shared their raven hair and dark eyes. And their smile.
Her smile lingered even after she'd continued to work. Seonghwa soon followed her example. He was simply glad he and his mother were getting more comfortable around each other. Things hadn't been this good between them since his father had died in a work-related accident. Seonghwa hadn't seen his mother smile like this - much less heard her laugh - since then either. It was like a short glimpse at the good relationship the two of them used to have before the accident.
About twenty minutes had passed before Seonghwa found the next document that caught his attention. It was the copy of an application form for a man named Zachary Abston. He'd applied for the position as the new Divination professor at Hogwarts. Seeing as the document had been signed by Seonghwa's mother, he'd gotten accepted.
"Oh, you finally found a replacement for Professor Donovan," he blurted out before he could stop himself. This time around, he was too curious to not take a closer look. His mother had been searching for a new professor for almost a month. Seonghwa scanned his curriculum vitae. "He worked as the head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes for ten years? Interesting. I wonder what made him change his profession so drastically."
His mother glanced up, eyes wide. "What?"
It was true. Department Head at the Ministry of Magic was a position most witches and wizards could only dream of. Why would anyone throw that away for a teaching position of an insignificant subject at Hogwarts?
Seonghwa held up the document. "That's what it says right here," he said, pointing at it. "Anyway. Which pile should I put this on?" His mother didn't respond. Her complexion had turned almost as white as the snow outside as she looked at Seonghwa. He frowned. "Are you alright? Should I get you some water?"
Sometimes his old ways of behaving like an assistant rather than a son towards her resurfaced. He was already about to get up to look for a glass when his mother leaned forward and ripped Zachary Abston's application out of his hands.
She hectically put the document onto Seonghwa's 'archive' pile before putting another handful of documents on top of it in an attempt to cover it. "I think you've helped enough."
"But I only – "
"Take this to the archive and go study afterwards," she ordered. "I've taken up enough of your time already." The smile from earlier had completely vanished from her features, as if it had never been there in the first place. Her tone had made it clear that right now, she wasn't his mother. She was Headmistress Park, and Seonghwa was just another prefect student.
"Understood," said Seonghwa, back to the old distance and professionalism that used to be a constant between them. "Should I sort them into their appropriate drawers in the archive?" Not that he wanted to spend any more time in there than he absolutely had to. The archive had always creeped him out.
"No, don't bother. I'll have Professor Longbottom do it," she said. "Focus on your studies while you can. I expect nothing but flawless results for your N.E.W.Ts."
"Of course, mother."
Seonghwa got out of his chair and grabbed the 'archive' pile before turning to leave. She remained silent when he reached the door and threw one more look over his shoulder. Her expression was unreadable.
Balancing the tower of documents in his arms as he walked down the stairs outside her office, guilt washed over Seonghwa. It had been foolish of him to begin a casual conversation with her. He'd been out of line. He'd tapped into something that wasn't his business. Maybe he was the only one who'd had the feeling that they were getting more comfortable with each other. He should've just quietly continued working.
He came to a halt as soon as he was out in the hallway, sighing. An unpleasant feeling that he couldn't quite explain spread in his chest. How was he ever going to have a somewhat normal relationship with his mother if she kept shutting him out at the slightest mistake?
Seonghwa let out a yelp of surprise when an unforeseen force nearly knocked him over. A pair of arms wrapped around his neck and he had to work hard not to drop his documents. Someone pressed their body against his back in a tight hug. He'd been ambushed. "Boo!"
He relaxed almost instantly when he heard the familiar melodic laugh come from right behind him. "Yeosang! You scared the living hell out of me!"
"Sorry," Yeosang said and released him. He was holding his stomach with laughter. Seonghwa turned around to face his attacker. "I came by here looking for you and it was just too perfect. Your reaction was priceless!"
Heat rose Seonghwa's cheeks and a smile appeared on his lips. I came by here looking for you. Yeosang had a habit of covering his mouth with his hand when he laughed, but Seonghwa could still see past it. His canine teeth resembled the fangs of a little vampire. It was adorable.
"What's all that?" Yeosang pointed at the pile of documents in Seonghwa's arms.
"Oh, that" said Seonghwa, looking down at it. He'd completely forgotten about it. "Just a bunch of files and such. My mother wants me to take them to the archive."
"We have an archive?"
"Of course. It's near the library on the second floor."
Yeosang huffed in thought. "More than five years at this school and the castle is still full of mysteries."
"It's off limits for regular students. Only certain professors are allowed inside and, well, me sometimes," explained Seonghwa. "You said you were looking for me?"
"Right. I was hoping to invite you to lunch and a hot butterbeer!"
Every reasonable cell inside Seonghwa's body wanted to resist. You can't. You're supposed to go right back to studying after you take these documents to the archive. But a tiny rebellious part of his brain reminded him that he'd already revised Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms and Advanced Rune Translation for two hours this morning. So technically, he'd already gotten a bunch of work done, right? If he got right back to studying first thing tomorrow, surely spending the rest of his day with Yeosang wouldn't hurt. He'd be able to make up for canceling plans with him yesterday.
"I totally understand if you're too busy with your duties, though. I can just – "
"No!" Seonghwa interrupted promptly. "No, I'd love to go with you."
Yeosang beamed. He was captivating. He also has a boyfriend. "Sweet! How much time do you need to do your archive stuff?"
Seonghwa was tempted to drop the pile of documents and leave it in a corner somewhere just to say, I'm ready to go right now if you like. He pushed the unreasonable impulse aside. "Give me ten minutes."
"Deal. You can meet Mingi and I in the Entrance Hall as soon as you're ready."
Seonghwa's heart sank. He'd assumed that it was going to be just him and Yeosang. Then his higher reasoning kicked in and he immediately scolded himself mentally. What was he even thinking? So what if Mingi came along? He'd said it himself no more than thirty minutes ago. Yeosang had a boyfriend. He was with Jongho. Kind of. And Seonghwa had no problem with that. He masked his disappointment by forcing a smile. "Wonderful."
Yeosang returned his smile, oblivious to the little crisis happening in Seonghwa's mind. "See you in a bit!" he said cheerfully and left for the Entrance Hall.
Seonghwa looked after him until he disappeared. Apparently, he'd gotten himself a date with Yeosang and Mingi in no less than ten minutes. He sighed and turned on his heel to head to the archive. Maybe he'd stop by the library to look for a book on how to get a taken man out of one's head.
Thursday, January 5th. 02:12PM. Hogwarts, Fourth Floor. Kim Hongjoong.
Having spent around three days in his deserted dorm room, basking in blissful solitude, Hongjoong decided he wanted a change of scenery. After he'd had breakfast in the Great Hall, he'd mindlessly strolled through the endless corridors the castle had to offer. When he'd reached the fourth floor, an idea finally crossed his mind. He hadn't paid his little friends a visit in a while. They always made good company.
Hongjoong followed the arched corridor almost all the way to the end, past the Study Area and all the classrooms. He took a moment to look left and right before he approached the shabby old bookshelf. He mainly did it out of habit, seeing as the castle was practically empty during Christmas break, and the only person insane enough to even come near the Study Area was Seonghwa. Once he deemed the hallway clear, Hongjoong pushed aside the bookshelf and revealed a wooden door. He choked up a little, thanks to all the dust he'd stirred up in the process. The caretaker seemed to be doing a sloppy job back here. Hongjoong opened the door and entered the room he had grown so accustomed to by now.
The square room was fairly small and cramped with wooden chairs and desks that were covered in another thick layer of dust. One had to squeeze past all the useless furniture to cross it. Countless pots of plants and flowers occupied every available surface. Some plants were tiny and hidden away in the shadows of the broad shelf that covered the left wall whole, others were tall enough to reach up to the low ceiling, branching out gleefully into the light coming through the large window on the opposite side of the door. A million particles of dust floated through the air, proving just how unknown this place was. Hongjoong was the only human who bothered to set foot into this place.
However, as soon as he made his way further into the room to reach the small ledge beneath the window, the room began to buzz with life. Plants that had seemed inanimate before stretched as if they had been asleep, curiously raised their heads to inspect Hongjoong, or hid away behind another plant. But that wasn't all. With every step he took, more and more creatures of all shapes and sizes came crawling out of their hiding spots. A grin spread across Hongjoong's lips.
This was the place he escaped to whenever he was bored, needed to clear his mind or simply wanted to get away from human contact. Nobody wanted anything from him in here. They couldn't even find him. He'd garnered this vast variety of plants and creatures on his occasional trips to the Forbidden Forest. Some of the plants he used as his personal potion ingredients (like his Arnica, Jewelweed, Asphodel, Star Grass, and his Baneberry Bush), others he kept in order to observe their behaviors simply because he found them intriguing (like his beloved Windroots), and another dozen of them he preserved to protect them from extinction (like his Alihotsy). As for the creatures, most of them had been abandoned in the forest or sneaking around the dark corners of the castle, often while injured. One day, Hongjoong had decided to nurture them until they were ready to go back to the Forbidden Forest - all in exchange for their temporary company.
And they soon became the only ones who wouldn't abuse his trust the way the humans around him tended to.
As he passed the last set of desks near the window, one of the Windroots leaned into his path as if to reach out to him. He chuckled and gently pat its head. Satisfied by the gesture, it cleared the way and Hongjoong plopped down in his usual spot on the ledge by the window. As soon as he'd set down his brown leather bag, he spotted a tiny, crimson-colored creature peek at him from between the two stones he'd placed in the far corner of the ledge.
The creature was the timid little fire-salamander Hongjoong had encountered in the forest in summer around two years ago. He was missing a claw and though Hongjoong didn't know how he'd lost it, he figured that it was probably the reason why he still didn't quite trust him. He'd dubbed him Mars. Hongjoong smiled and held out a hand to him.
Mars didn't budge and merely gave him an uncertain glance.
"Care to come closer? I have mealworms for you." Hongjoong held up a small container. Hesitantly, Mars crawled out of his hiding spot, the fiery yellow and orange markings on his skin making it look as if flames encased him. Hongjoong opened the container and Mars leaned into it, greedily eating the mealworms. "There you go."
Once Mars was done eating, he silently climbed into Hongjoong's hand and looked up at him with gratefulness sparkling in his black eyes. Being a fire salamander, Mars felt extremely warm in Hongjoong's palm, almost like an animate magical heat pack.
Hongjoong regarded him with surprise. "You're really starting to warm up to me, huh?"
That's when something else caught Mars' attention and his eyes shot toward the ceiling. Hongjoong followed his gaze. Mars' eyes were fixed on a flying gray creature that resembled a plump platypus. Little flying membranes stretched between her legs on each side of her body helped her glide around in circles about two feet above Hongjoong's head. Hongjoong had called her Diamond, because of the blueish purple shine her fur had whenever she flew.
After cheerfully soaring through the air in another circle, Diamond nosedived straight downward and smoothly landed in Hongjoong's lap. She shook out her fur before glaring at Mars. Intimidated, he scrambled away and disappeared behind the pot of Hongjoong's Deadly Wissac.
"Oh, come on, Diamond. You scared him off," complained Hongjoong. "Do you know how hard it was to gain his trust?" Diamond let out a sulky squeal and curled into a fluffy ball, hiding her face in Hongjoong's robes. She was clingy as ever. Hongjoong shook his head and lured her back out by feeding her some insect larvae he stored in another container.
Once she was satisfied, Hongjoong reached into the chest pocket of his robes and produced a small roll of parchment. It was a letter he'd received from Yunho this morning that he hadn't read right away. He'd just begun to unroll it when he felt a light hug on his sleeve.
Next to him on the ledge, he spotted a tiny bright green Bowtruckle the size of a hand with long sharp fingers and a cracked leaf growing out of his head. He looked up at Hongjoong expectantly, most likely wondering if he had a snack for him too. "In a moment, Honeysuckle," said Hongjoong. "I have to read this."
Joong.
Sorry for writing you another letter about this, but I'm still losing sleep over it. It's literally three in the morning right now.
Should I just tell him? If I tell Mingi that you and I never actually dated and that I never stopped being head over heels for him... I don't know maybe it'll work without making things complicated again. I hate pretending to be friends with him when I write him. I keep wanting to sneak in an 'I miss you,' if not an 'I love you by the way.' It's like I can't think about anything but him these days. Am I going crazy?
The only reason I'm not doing it is what you said a month ago. But I don't know about that anymore, Joong. Are you still positive this is a good idea? I can't stand the thought of him possibly getting tired of this jealousy game and moving on to somebody else... But if you're one hundred percent sure about the plan, I'll do it. I trust you.
See you soon,
Yunho
Hongjoong sighed and let the letter slide back into his pocket. A part of him was slightly bitter that Yunho still doubted his plan even after the countless reassurances Hongjoong had given him.
He had no choice but to finish the plan he'd started. As much as he wanted Yunho and Mingi to end up together eventually, he simply couldn't let that happen yet. He wasn't ready to go back to the miserable state he'd been in before he'd started to rely on Yunho.
Granted, maybe it was a little selfish of him to stall Yunho's relationship with Mingi solely to prioritize his own issues. However, he couldn't quite find it in himself to care right now. In his defense, it wasn't like he was hurting anyone. Just stalling something that was most likely going to happen anyway. And if Mingi fell out of love with Yunho in the meantime, it was his own damn fault. It was his loss, after all.
He'd just keep this little game going for a little bit longer. Only until he was ready to let go.
He let a hand run through Diamond's soft fur while he absent-mindedly watched the baby Devil's Snare he'd stored in a big glass box sitting in the shadows of the shelf to his right. Its tentacle-like appendages moved around restlessly, probably in constant search of something – or someone – to strangle.
An uncomfortable feeling nagged at Hongjoong, but he pushed it aside. He gave Honeysuckle some dried woodlice - he'd been tugging on Hongjoong's sleeve the entire time – and pulled a writing quill from his bag. The fuss caused Diamond to take off and begin to fly around the room again. He scribbled his response on a small piece of parchment he found in the depths of his pocket. He kept it short.
Yunho.
Yes, I'm positive everything will be fine. I promise he won't just fall out of love with you. If love was easy it'd be boring. Stop worrying, I've got everything under control, alright?
Love you,
Joong
He read over the reply one more time before he folded it twice.
"And if it all goes wrong, at least I'll still have you, right, Honeysuckle?" Hongjoong asked. Honeysuckle leaned against the palm of his hand and let out a content purr-like noise before he climbed up his robe and hid in his chest pocket. "You're right. Let's head to the Owlery and send this."
Thursday, January 5th. 02:30PM. Snowshill, Gloucestershire, 24 West End Lane, Wooyoung's bedroom. Choi San.
San loved Wooyoung's house. Not particularly large, it was a cozy and friendly family home that gave off the scent of lavender, a flower that could be found in various plant pots all over the house. Almost every available spot on the delicate purple walls held pictures of Wooyoung and his parents beaming happily or metals Wooyoung had won for athletic extracurriculars in muggle elementary school. Everything about it was so... Wooyoung.
Even his bedroom perfectly reflected his bright personality. His walls were mostly occupied with posters of the Chudley Cannons – Wooyoung's favorite Quidditch team – though he had also made space for one picture he and San had taken late last summer, in which San's picture self kissed Wooyoung's cheek. His shelves were a little cluttered with all kinds of plushies he'd kept from his childhood, unsorted books, and moving pictures of him and Yeosang as children. Here too, the theme was purple – his favorite color. Purple curtains, purple carpet, purple bedsheets. San loved everything about it.
They'd spent a good chunk of the morning sleeping in until around nine o'clock. San would've been fine staying in bed all day, but Wooyoung had insisted they at least eat breakfast. He'd prepared some apple vanilla pancakes for the two of them to enjoy while listening to the radio. San may or may not have coaxed him into dramatically dancing around the dining table with him, as if the dining area was a ballroom. He'd simply been unable to resist.
Around noon, Mr. Jung stepped out of the living room fireplace with a carton of paperwork in his arms. He'd brought his work home today, claiming that the workspace in his department had been too hectic for him to be productive and that he'd taken his paperwork and left in order to at least get something done. He'd quickly disappeared upstairs, which had once again left San and Wooyoung with the rest of the house to themselves.
That's how they'd ended up back in Wooyoung's room, where they sat cross-legged on the bed and played video games. San had really gotten the hang of those. Wooyoung had introduced him to a racing game called Reckless Velocity, in which they played round after round of trying to overtake each other on a racetrack in fancy super cars. Not only was the game fun, but it also gave San an excuse to put his arm around Wooyoung's shoulders and keep him close as they played.
They'd been at it for two hours when Wooyoung threw up his hands and let out a frustrated groan. Demotivated, he leaned back against San's chest. San had won four rounds in a row. "Why do you have to be good at everything?"
San tried and failed to hide a triumphant grin. "Oh, come on," he said and reached out to poke Wooyoung's cheek. "There are plenty of things I'm not good at."
"Yeah? For example?"
"I suck at, uh, History of Magic. And I can't cook to save my life."
"Oh, be quiet." Wooyoung laughed. "I don't know anybody in our year except Yunho who doesn't suck at History of Magic, and I'm sure your cooking isn't that bad."
"That's because you've never tasted it. And I promise you, you never will." San shuddered at the memory of himself attempting to fry an egg for his sister once. He'd never dared to even show his face near the fire department since. A pout formed on Wooyoung's face as San comfortingly grazed his cheek. "Look, why don't we make this game more interesting," he suggested. "How about this. We keep playing this game, but every round, the loser has to take off a piece of clothing."
Wooyoung considered him for a moment, clearly intrigued. It wasn't like they were wearing a whole lot of clothes. San had put on Wooyoung's scarlet red Chudley Cannons hoodie (the one he claimed he would never entrust anyone else with), thick winter socks, and a pair of slim gray sweatpants, while Wooyoung wore a fluffy beige long sleeve, a black beanie, and black sweatpants. But the fewer options in clothes they could take off, the better, right?
"Are you sure?" asked Wooyoung. "I won't go easy on you just because you're new to this."
"Excuse me, have you not seen me win the past four rounds?"
"Beginner's luck only gets you so far."
"It's on, then."
Wooyoung shot him a grin and sat back up. "It's so on."
San's competitiveness boiled in his chest, and he knew Wooyoung felt the same. It didn't take long until the game had started once more, their eyes glued to the screen as they let their virtual cars speed past all sorts of boosts and obstacles, trying to push each other off track. San hadn't put this much effort into something for a long time. Then again, the stakes had never been this high either.
Five minutes later, San had won the first round. "That's no longer beginner's luck, baby. That's pure skill," he teased.
Wooyoung scowled and took off his beanie, throwing it across the room. "Yeah, whatever."
"Really?" San scoffed. "Such a tease."
"You should've specified which piece of clothing."
Their bickering continued into the second round. Both of them leaned toward the screen, extremely focused. This time, Wooyoung emerged as the winner. San pulled off his socks.
When Wooyoung won the third round as well, it was his turn to get cocky. "Where'd your skill go all of a sudden?"
"Are you that eager to see me strip?" San asked, already in the process of taking off Wooyoung's beloved hoodie.
Wooyoung smirked. "Maybe."
"I'll end you."
The fourth round cost Wooyoung his socks, and the fifth round became their tightest match yet. San emerged victorious and watched triumphantly as Wooyoung rid himself of his long sleeve.
"Alright, final round. Whoever loses this one loses their sweatpants," Wooyoung declared.
"Deal."
The final round seemed to go on forever. The two of them kept overtaking each other, taking turns in gaining the lead. San was already about to accept defeat after Wooyoung had held the lead for almost a minute when the unthinkable happened. Only about ten feet away from the goal, Wooyoung hit an obstacle.
"No!" he cried, mashing the buttons of his controller in frustration. There was no saving it. His car spun out of control and allowed San to swiftly speed past him.
"Ha! You lose!" San exclaimed and thrust his fist into the air. Wooyoung collapsed on the bed in defeat. San couldn't hold his laughter. "Do you want me to take them off for you?"
"Shut up, I'll do it myself," grumbled Wooyoung. He pulled on the drawstring of his sweatpants in order to loosen the knot, but the only thing he accomplished was to entangle it. Still basking in his victory, San put aside his controller while Wooyoung struggled with his pants. He turned to watch Wooyoung, ready to assist if he happened to need a hand.
Until now, San hadn't realized he'd been so preoccupied trying to win the game, that he hadn't properly looked at Wooyoung.
Most of the time, he regarded Wooyoung as cute because of the bright smile he liked to wear and his overall cheerful and lively personality. Of course, this wasn't his first time seeing his boyfriend without a shirt. But for some reason, something about this situation felt different. Seeing him lie there, shirtless and biting his lower lip as he struggled to loosen the knot that held up his sweatpants, San was struck by Wooyoung's charms in a completely way. He'd forgotten how sexy Wooyoung could be. He wasn't heavily muscled or anything, but still fairly lean due to his regular Quidditch practices. His brown hair fell into his face just right, his lips looked incredibly soft, and the tiny mole underneath his left eye complimented his complexion perfectly. And... had his skin always looked this inviting? Even though nothing had changed, something about him was just so alluring right now.
And unbelievably, for the first time, it hit San. He had Wooyoung all to himself. He was completely and utterly his. His heart began to race. San was so captivated that he didn't even realize that Wooyoung had finally managed to untie the knot and kicked off his pants.
"Hey..." Wooyoung now looked up at San, his cheeks rosy. He nervously shifted under his stare. "Stop fucking me with your eyes."
It was a comment so out of the blue and vulgar, San would've probably laughed if it hadn't caught him so off guard. Instead, he blushed a little. "Sorry," he heard himself say, still unable to take his eyes off Wooyoung. And before he could stop himself, he hovered over him and kissed him.
Wooyoung startled for a brief moment, though he didn't waste any time melting into the kiss. His hands found their way around San, pulling him closer. To San, this kiss felt like home. It contained the sweetness of passion, a million loving thoughts condensed into a moment.
San didn't stop at his lips. His lips brushed over Wooyoung's neck, his collarbone, and his chest, all the way down to his stomach while he let his fingers graze his inner thigh, leaving him breathless. The quiet gasps that rolled over Wooyoung's lips were like music to San's ears.
They halted for only a moment when San returned to his lips and met his eyes. His hand still rested gently on Wooyoung's thigh.
"What if your parents come in?" San asked in a whisper.
Wooyoung managed a smile. "Don't worry," he said and lost a hand in San's hair, "they always knock."
San gave a nod. That was all he needed to hear.
San wasn't new to this. Quite the contrary, he'd fooled around with a bunch of guys before. And yet, he caught himself feeling somewhat nervous. He wondered if Wooyoung was nervous too. He let a gentle hand run down Wooyoung's side, tracing the outline of his hipbone as he watched him shiver underneath his touch. He looked irresistible.
San never knew when Wooyoung was listening in on his thoughts and when he wasn't, much less how much he heard. But a part of him hoped that he was listening to every single word right now. He wanted to make Wooyoung feel like a prince, like nothing he'd ever felt before in his life. He wanted to show Wooyoung just how much he really loved him.
Wooyoung wore a desperate expression. "Please."
San finally reconnected their lips and pressed him into the soft bedsheets. Wooyoung wrapped his legs around him, locking him in place – not that there was any way he'd leave. Pure ecstasy ran through San's body as he lost himself in that kiss. He let his hand roam Wooyoung's body freely. He wanted to explore every inch of him, claim every last cell of his body as his.
Wooyoung had just begun to mess with the waistband of San's sweatpants when a knock sounded against the door. They immediately jumped apart. Wooyoung's eyes widened with panic, his lips glistening slightly.
He didn't look like he could form proper words right away, so San was the one to call, "Um, what is it?"
Luckily, the door remained unopened. It would've been difficult to find an explanation for this incriminating scene; San sitting on Wooyoung's bed without a shirt and his sweatpants hanging lowly on his hips, and Wooyoung on the other side pressed into his own pillows, all hot and bothered with nothing but his purple boxers on.
"Wooyoung, could you help your mother in the garden?" called Mr. Jung from the other side of the door. "The gnomes are back and they're ruining our hedge."
"S-sure, dad, I'll be out in a minute!"
"Thanks, sweetie. San, you can help too if you're good at throwing gnomes."
"I am, sir."
Mr. Jung chuckled. "Lovely."
The two of them listened as his footsteps moved through the hallway towards his study, a door clicked, and he disappeared.
San finally released the breath he was holding. "Well, that was close."
"Too close."
"Awful timing too."
"Yeah..."
A somewhat awkward silence took over them. Wooyoung scooted closer again and settled down in front of San. He wore an embarrassed smile. He still looked so beautiful, it almost hurt.
San moved a strand of hair behind Wooyoung's ear and tried to suppress his disappointment. He shouldn't have taken so much time. Then again, maybe it was a good thing that he had. He didn't want to imagine what it would've been like if Mr. Jung had interrupted them in a later stage of their... act. Though, that realization didn't change much about how bummed out San was.
His face must've given him away; Wooyoung suddenly burst out laughing. "Are you sulking?"
"Just a little."
Wooyoung cooed and briefly pecked his lips. "Don't be too disappointed. It was still nice while it lasted."
San's features softened. "It was. But next time I won't let you off so easily."
Wooyoung showed a cunning smirk. "I can't wait."
Every part of San wanted to just lock the door, push Wooyoung back down, and let those damn gnomes ruin Wooyoung's mother's hedge, for Merlin's sake. But, in a great show of self-restraint, San put his clothes back on and threw on a jacket. Wooyoung seemed about as reluctant as him, yet he followed his example and the two of them headed downstairs and made their way outside through the back door. San was more than poised to at least throw the gnomes as far as he could to make sure they'd never come back.
Thursday, January 5th. 04:05PM. Hogwarts, Front Courtyard. Park Seonghwa.
Seonghwa wasn't jealous. He simply found it interesting to observe how Yeosang and Mingi had become inseparable seemingly overnight. At least he didn't remember them being this close before. In fact, Seonghwa hadn't even seen Mingi around throughout the entirety of Christmas break and, until Yeosang had mentioned him last night, he'd been under the impression that he was one of the many people who'd gone home over the holidays. He also didn't remember Yeosang being this touchy with anyone besides Wooyoung and, well, Jongho.
And yet, their trip to the Three Broomsticks had solely consisted of Mingi recounting various mischief tales about him and his Slytherin friends while Yeosang followed his every word with great interest, hanging on his every word and even leaning into his side when laughing. Seonghwa had spent most of the time just watching and listening as he'd sipped on his hot butterbeer, only really speaking when asked a question.
He didn't know why the fact that Yeosang had brought Mingi along nagged at him so much. Seonghwa genuinely had nothing against the guy, but the longer he'd watched him joke around and get along so easily with Yeosang, the more irritated his mood had grown. None of Mingi's stories had made Seonghwa laugh. They'd only made him take a mental note of relying to his mother that prefect authority should be strengthened. When they finally left, all Seonghwa could think about on the way back to the castle was that Yeosang never laughed at his jokes like that. Granted, Seonghwa wasn't much of a jokester, but he didn't like the feeling that thought caused in him.
The falling snow showed no signs of stopping even after the three of them reached the snow-covered front courtyard. The footsteps that would've indicated their departure a few hours ago had already been veiled by a new powdery layer of dry and loose snow. It was almost a pity that their return was about to mar the level blanket of glittering whiteness once again.
Yeosang and Mingi didn't seem to mind that at all, however. They happily marched into the courtyard, laughing about another one of Mingi's stories. Something about how he and Yeonjun had enchanted Professor Snippet's underpants - the ones from his drawers, not the ones he was wearing, Seonghwa hoped - to dance on the teacher's desk in front of the whole classroom. Seonghwa found it rather outrageous to humiliate a professor like that.
"Wow," said Yeosang in awe. "I can't believe it snowed this much since we left."
"I know, right?" Mingi reached down to scoop a handful of snow and formed a ball in his hands. Yeosang did the same.
Seonghwa trailed a few feet behind them. He didn't feel like interacting with them.
Yeosang let out a small squeal. "It's so cold!"
"Dude, it's snow." Mingi chuckled. "What did you expect?"
Yeosang looked adorable when he scowled. "Smartass."
"Everyone needs a smartass sarcastic friend." Mingi bowed. "I'm happy to be of service."
"You know what else everyone needs?" Yeosang asked, and a mischievous grin spread across his pretty face. "A snowball to the face!"
He flung the snowball at Mingi so suddenly, the poor guy didn't even have time to dodge. Though Yeosang hadn't managed to hit him in the face because Mingi was considerably taller than him, the snowball shattered at Mingi's shoulder, leaving a trail of white chunks on his robes.
Mingi dramatically clutched his shoulder as though an arrow had pierced him. "How could you?"
Yeosang's contagious laugh rang through the air. "I just couldn't resist, my liege."
"You will regret this!" Mingi gathered another handful of snow, forged a ball and threw it at Yeosang. However, Yeosang was prepared. He giggled and jumped out of the way just in time. So instead, the ball hit Seonghwa right in the chest. Yeosang and Mingi froze and gave him uneasily looks as he wiped the snowball's residue off his prefect badge.
He wasn't sure what overcame him, but before either of them could react, Seonghwa formed a snowball of his own and launched it in Mingi's direction with an unexpected amount of force. Mingi was too surprised to dodge it. The ball hit him right in the side of his neck, causing the snow to trickle into his scarf and possibly his robes as well. Yeosang burst into laughter, and even Seonghwa couldn't hold back a satisfied grin at the way Mingi's eyes widened.
Yeosang pointed at him, wheezing. "That's what you get!"
Mingi laughed along and got some of the snow out of his scarf. "Oh, it's so on!"
And before Seonghwa knew it, a snowball fight had broken out. Countless snowballs flew back and forth between Seonghwa and Mingi. Yeosang spent about a minute trying to decide whether he should join forces with Seonghwa or Mingi. But eventually, seeing as Seonghwa landed a lot more hits than Mingi did, he eventually deemed it fairer to join Mingi. Seonghwa took it as a compliment.
Yeosang was a rather defensive snowball fighter. He was extremely good at dodging attacks, but that also meant that he had less time to form snowballs for his own attacks, despite his decent aim. Mingi on the other hand was faster at producing snowballs than Yeosang was. As a result, his aim was imprecise, though when he did land a hit on Seonghwa, his snowballs had a lot of impact.
Maintaining precise aim while simultaneously trying to dodge incoming attacks from two people proved difficult, but surprisingly, Seonghwa enjoyed himself. One benefit of this fight was that Yeosang had no time to cover up his smile. He was enticing. Seonghwa got to see and hear him laugh the whole time, and this time it wasn't just because of Mingi. The downside was that Seonghwa took a few harsh hits for ineptly staring at him. He decided it was worth it.
Seonghwa had no idea how much time went by while they did this, but the cost of playing one versus two began to lift its ugly head; Seonghwa was losing. Or at least he'd thought so until a snowball hit Yeosang right in the cheek all of a sudden. Stunned, he lost his balance for a moment and stumbled a few steps back.
The weird thing was that it had been a snowball neither Seonghwa nor Mingi had thrown.
Mingi jerked his head in the direction the snowball had come from, just to be hit in the face by a new one. "Hey!" he exclaimed, reasonably disgruntled.
Seonghwa turned towards the castle entrance. Then it clicked.
"Hongjoong?" said Seonghwa, baffled. There he stood, confident and imposing despite his small figure. He wore a yellow scarf with black stripes over his anthracite coat to represent the Hufflepuff House. A couple of snowflakes sat in his cerulean blue locks and his face displayed a complacent, yet charming grin. "What are you doing?"
Hongjoong strode through the snow, past the frozen waterspouts in the middle of the courtyard. "I couldn't just watch you lose any longer, Hwa."
"I was doing fine," Seonghwa replied defensively.
Yeosang and Mingi both eyed Hongjoong with disdain. He simply smirked at them, acting like the tension in the air hadn't increased by ninety percent upon his arrival.
He came to a halt next to Seonghwa and produced a new snowball. "Are we going to fight or what?"
Yeosang looked up at Mingi and the two exchanged grim glances. They came to an unspoken agreement and nodded to each other. Again, Seonghwa couldn't help but wonder why the two understood each other so well.
"Bring it," said Yeosang.
Hongjoong's grin widened. "As you wish, sugar."
As expected, Hongjoong was a game changer. Seonghwa had no choice but to admire his efficiency in both speed and precision. He dodged Yeosang and Mingi's attacks with playful ease and landed almost every hit perfectly. Snowball fighting appeared to be yet another addition to Hongjoong's endless list of talents. It was fascinating, really.
Seonghwa had always had to work hard for his success. Countless hours of study and practice had gotten him the flawless record his mother liked to praise so much, but Hongjoong had never had to do anything of the sort. Not as far as Seonghwa knew, at least. A part of Seonghwa envied him for how effortlessly he succeeded at everything he laid his hands on. Hongjoong was born talented, and that was the very thing that had earned him scholastic success as well as immense popularity. Well, that and his infallible flirtatiousness and attractiveness.
Yeosang and Mingi visibly grew more resolved to win as the fight went on. What had started out as a spontaneous little game between friends had evolved into an unbridled competition. Though, now that Hongjoong had joined in, the battle had shifted to his and Seonghwa's team's favor. Yeosang and Mingi took a lot more hits than they were able to put out, and Hongjoong's grin only widened at the prospect of victory. Seonghwa honestly didn't care too much about winning anymore as his arm began to ache from throwing what felt like a hundred snowballs. He had just begun to wonder if this spiel was ever going to end when he heard Hongjoong let out an uncharacteristic yelp.
In an attempt to dodge one of Mingi's hard-hitting snowballs, Hongjoong slipped on an icy patch beneath the trampled snow bed. Seonghwa instinctively reached out to catch him, but that turned out to be a mistake. Instead of preventing Hongjoong's fall, Seonghwa only accomplished disrupting his own balance. Hongjoong tried to save himself by gripping onto Seonghwa's robes, which resulted in tipping both of them over. The two of them met the floor, Seonghwa landing painfully on top of Hongjoong.
"Ow..." groaned Seonghwa as he propped himself up with his elbows. The rough cobble ground was icy enough to sting Seonghwa's skin. Hongjoong looked as though he'd never seen anything more horrifying than Seonghwa walking this earth. His mouth slightly agape and his eyes wide with terror, he stared up at him, unable to form words. No trace of the cockiness Seonghwa usually experienced from him.
For a moment, the world stopped spinning as they did nothing but stare into each other's eyes. But Seonghwa felt like Hongjoong wasn't just looking into his eyes. He looked beyond them, into the very essence of his soul. It was so weird. The expression on his face said a million things, and Seonghwa found himself unable to interpret even a single one of them.
"Get off me." Hongjoong had finally rediscovered his ability to speak, but Seonghwa hadn't expected such harshness. He even started pushing at Seonghwa's chest.
Seonghwa blinked down at him. "What?"
"Now." The warning tone in his voice left no room for discussion.
"O-Oh, of course." Seonghwa scrambled off him and quickly got to his feet. He dusted off his robes before offering Hongjoong a hand to pull him up as well. Hongjoong slapped it away and got up by himself. Seonghwa retracted his hand and awkwardly cleared his throat.
Yeosang and Mingi double high-fived each other, laughing triumphantly. They were oblivious to whatever had just happened between Hongjoong and Seonghwa. All that mattered to them was that they had won the battle.
"How about that?" Mingi asked with an overweening grin.
Hongjoong was quick to put his confident façade back on, though it didn't slip Seonghwa's attention that he was avoiding everyone's eyes. No, scratch that. He was avoiding Seonghwa's eyes. "You won a snowball fight. Congratulations. Now what?"
Yeosang tapped his chin in thought. "Hm. I say we demand a reward. What do you think, Mingi?"
Mingi's grin widened. "I think that's a great idea."
Hongjoong sighed and rolled his eyes. "If I'd known you guys were going to be so childish about this, I wouldn't have joined in."
"Nobody asked you to, you know," Mingi retorted.
"Just say what you want so we can get this over with, please," Seonghwa impatiently threw in. If was completely honest, he couldn't care less about the punishment. He just wanted to get inside and restore his body temperature at the fireplace in the common room. Preferably with Yeosang.
"Alright, alright," said Yeosang. "Maybe we should just make them hug and let it slide."
Hongjoong threw a quick glance in Seonghwa's direction and crossed his arms. "That's... a stupid punishment. What would you two even gain from it?"
Seonghwa furrowed his brows. Hongjoong was still avoiding his eyes. Why was he acting so strangely? Was he that mad about losing? Seonghwa hadn't thought Hongjoong to be the sore loser type of guy. Then again, he also didn't seem like much of a hugger.
Mingi let out a dramatic gasp. "What is this?" he exclaimed. "Is the great Kim Hongjoong reluctant to throw himself at another man? Never thought I'd see the day. That must be a first."
Yeosang muffled his laughter. Hongjoong narrowed his eyes at them. "I'm just not sure how my boyfriend would feel about that," he sneered and threw Mingi a sly grin. "I'm dating Yunho, remember? Not that you'd know anything about what that's like."
Mingi's grin fell and he clenched his jaw. If looks could kill.
Seonghwa watched this exchange like a ping pong match. "Come on, Hongjoong. It's just a hug, right? I'm sure Yunho wouldn't – "
"Don't act like he's not just going to drop you as soon as he finds someone better," Mingi hissed. "You're not special to him!"
"Shut up!" Hurt flashed in Hongjoong's eyes. He glared at Mingi so intensely that it caught even Seonghwa off guard. He'd never seen him this angry before. "You don't know anything! You don't know how much I mean to him, or how much he means to me! Fuck, you don't even understand him most of the time!"
"What are you even talking about?"
Hongjoong snorted. "You don't even know what he really needs. And even if you did, you could never give it to him. Not the way I can."
A line had been crossed. Mingi reached into his robes and pulled out his wand to point it directly at Hongjoong. His hand was trembling with rage.
Hongjoong did the same. He met Mingi's eyes with an equal amount of contempt.
Remembering that he was a prefect, Seonghwa stepped between them. Using magic against each other on school grounds was strictly prohibited. "Guys, calm down. According to the school regulations - "
"You're an ass, Hongjoong," Yeosang interrupted, shaking his head. His voice had sounded uncharacteristically firm. His tone softened when he turned to Mingi and tried to push down his wand. "Don't let him get to you. He's not worth it." Mingi hesitated. He didn't look at Yeosang and instead continued to glare at Hongjoong, his lips pursed with fury. Yeosang tugged at his arm once more. "Come on, let's just go. Please."
His resolve seemed to weaken and eventually, he lowered his wand. "You're right. I shouldn't waste my energy on someone as pathetic as him."
With that, Mingi let Yeosang pull him toward the castle. Hongjoong glared after them until they disappeared through the heavy doors.
"Hongjoong," Seonghwa spoke up firmly. "I can't believe you pointed your wand at him when you know the rules. You're a prefect! You're supposed to act as a role model in front of the student body, even if they violate the rules first. Actually, especially then."
Hongjoong said nothing. He just stood there, not sparing Seonghwa a single glance. His focus was directed inward.
Seonghwa sighed. Now that he looked at Hongjoong's dejected face, he almost regretted lecturing him. "Are you okay?"
"Of course I'm okay," he said defensively. "You think I'm gonna let a neanderthal like Mingi throw me off?"
Something that looked like a tiny green leaf poked out of Hongjoong's chest pocket, but he immediately pushed it back in. Seonghwa decided not to question it. "You're not fooling anyone. I know you well enough to say that you never get upset like this."
"I'm not upset!"
Seonghwa watched thoughtfully as Hongjoong began to kick at the snow at his feet. "Is your, um, love for Yunho really that serious?"
Hongjoong finally looked at him, eyeing him cautiously as if to test if he was mocking him. Seonghwa had no idea what went on in his head. His expression was as unreadable as it had been when they were lying in the snow together a few minutes ago. "He's important to me, alright?"
Seonghwa nodded. He was inclined to believe him, but something told Seonghwa that there was something off about this "passionate" love story between Hongjoong and Yunho. He had a lot of questions, but Hongjoong's tone had made it clear that the topic was done.
The stinging cold permeating Seonghwa's face and hands made him want nothing more than to head back inside and pay the prefects' bathroom a visit in order to warm up in a nice hot bath instead of the fireplace in the common room, but somehow it didn't feel right to leave Hongjoong alone like this. He may have denied it, but Hongjoong was clearly bothered by what Mingi had said to him.
"Do you wanna build a snowman?" Seonghwa suggested lamely.
Hongjoong let out a hearty laugh. His mood swings were confusing to keep up with to say the least. "You're so weird."
"Is that a yes or a no?"
"It's a hell no. I don't think I can take much more of this frosty weather."
"Oh." Seonghwa reconsidered. "Then how about we warm up by the fireplace in the Great Hall over a round of Wizarding Chess?"
"Why are you trying so hard to hang out with me?"
"I don't know. Because we're friends, aren't we?"
"I'm going inside."
"Wait, one more thing." Hongjoong turned back around to face Seonghwa. "About earlier..." Seonghwa began. "Was the prospect of hugging me really that awful?"
Hongjoong averted his eyes once more. "Yes."
"How dare you?" Seonghwa sulked. He didn't remember having friends to be such a cold experience. "Since when do you dislike me so much?"
Hongjoong shrugged. "It's not that I dislike you it's just... complicated. Don't take it personal."
Seonghwa nodded. Maybe this was Hongjoong's way of hiding how much his altercation with Mingi had affected him. Hongjoong had always been the type of guy to hide his emotions in order to appear tougher than he really was. It was his way of protecting himself. His carefree and untouchable attitude was nothing more than a façade to hide the pain and frustration he held inside. Seonghwa had learned that about him years ago.
Seonghwa considered him for a moment. He usually wasn't the type to hug people. In most cases, it was nothing but an awkward and uncomfortable invasion of personal space. But for some reason, he made a lot of atypically unreasonable choices today. Besides, it just felt like the right thing to do in that moment. Before Hongjoong had time to react, Seonghwa took his hand, pulled him closer, and wrapped his arms around Hongjoong.
"Are you crazy?" Hongjoong mumbled into Seonghwa's chest. He was so tiny in his arms. He didn't put up as much of a fight as Seonghwa had expected him to. "Don't you know that you don't just hug Kim Hongjoong without consent?"
Seonghwa chuckled. "Don't you know that when Park Seonghwa offers a hug, you have to accept it?"
"I've never heard of that rule."
"Well, now you have."
Hongjoong huffed. "Let go of me before I turn into a dragon and eat you."
"You mean a wyvern?" Seonghwa teased. Hongjoong shot him a glare, causing Seonghwa to back off. "Okay, okay."
With that, Hongjoong turned on his heel and hurried towards the castle. Seonghwa stared after him. He really didn't understand Hongjoong sometimes. He mentally added a guidebook on social skills to the list of things he desperately needed to read up on.
Thursday, January 5th. 05:48PM. Snowshill, Gloucestershire, 24 West End Lane, Backyard. Jung Wooyoung.
Darkness crept over the horizon like an indigo carpet as the sun hunted for a chance to rest for the night. Early stars dotted the darkening sky, clearly visible in the freezing air twilight brought with it. Only a few feathery snowflakes fell noiselessly around Wooyoung. He wasn't sure how much time he and San had spent picking gnomes out of his mother's hedge. It felt like the cold had turned their fingers red and sensitive ages ago.
"Was that the last one?" Wooyoung asked, surprised by the exhaustion in his own voice.
San had just flung another gnome into the fields. He examined the hedge once more, rustling up the branches. The movement caused more snow to fall from them, though there were no more gnomes to be seen. "I think so, yeah."
Wooyoung let out a sigh of relief. "Finally."
"Let's sit down for a moment, shall we?"
The two of them returned to the back pouch of the house and settled down at the snow-covered garden table. Despite the cold, it was beautiful out here. Wooyoung had always loved winter and the beauty it offered. The stillness of the frozen air heightening each of his senses, the glittering blankets of snow making the world look like it'd been coated in sugar, and – though Wooyoung had never seen them personally – the colorful Northern Lights dancing across an inky black sky. Well that, and of course all the fun activities one couldn't really do at any other time of the year, like any type of winter sport, building snowmen, making snow angels, and – Wooyoung's personal favorite - snowball fights. He connected countless childhood memories with this backyard. He tried to block out the ones that included Stephan.
Wooyoung rubbed his hands together in an attempt to get rid of the numbness in them. Then he shifted his attention to San, who sat on the opposite side of the table. His eyes were glued to the night sky. Typical. "I found yet another thing you're good at."
San looked at him and laughed. "Come on, you have to cut me some slack. It's not like de-gnoming a garden is a complicated craft." His breath formed little white clouds as he spoke. "Besides, I swear you threw them way harder than I did."
Maybe there was some truth to that. Wooyoung had gotten a lot of practice in the seventeen years he'd lived here. Plus, as one of the Chasers on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team it was a given that he'd have some solid throws. "You're right. I absolutely outdid you."
"You don't have to put it like that. I did some damage," San protested. Then he shimmied out of his coat, rolled up the sleeve of his hoodie, and flexed his arm muscles. "Just look at these guns."
Wooyoung laughed. "Alright, alright, big boy. Put your jacket back on, it's cold."
San obliged. "That sarcastic tone of yours is gonna get you in trouble someday."
"Is that a threat or a promise?"
"Both."
They chuckled. Whenever San laughed, it was like his already beautiful features were set alight. His smile turned his foxlike eyes into small crescents and even summoned dimples on his cheeks. It was sweet, joyous, and pretty. No phenomenon of beauty in the world could even remotely compare. Wooyoung couldn't imagine himself ever growing tired of it.
San rubbed his arms against the cold. "It really is freezing."
"Yeah, I can't wait to get back into bed." Wooyoung grinned. "With you."
San grinned back. He opened his mouth to retort something when a rustling noise caught his attention. It had come from the direction of the hedge. "What was that?"
Seemingly out of nowhere, the streetlamp outside the backyard began to flicker, three, four times until it died out completely. A sudden yet frosty gust of wind whipped through the backyard. It ruffled up Wooyoung's hair and sent a chill down his spine. Even the trees guarding the backyard swayed creepily, rustling in the wind as they casted eerie shadows on the ground. Wooyoung uneasily pulled his cardigan tighter around his body. He didn't like how dark it had become. It hindered his senses.
San's face hardened as his eyes scanned the narrow backyard. In the twilight they had a dangerous glint in them, holding out for any lurking threat. One look into his mind disclosed that he thought they weren't alone.
Once the blast had passed, the night fell dead silent again. Wooyoung's heart pounded loudly in his chest.
San rose to his feet and took Wooyoung's hand. "Let's go back inside."
Wooyoung nodded wordlessly. He let San lead him back to the slide door that would take them to the living room. He threw one last wary look over his shoulder before San opened the door to let Wooyoung enter first. What had just happened? What was this uncomfortable feeling? He couldn't explain the goosebumps all over his skin.
As soon as they'd stepped inside, the weird feeling was chased away by the welcoming warmth of the living room.
Wooyoung's mother sat on the couch, watching an old sitcom. "Oh, are you done?" She checked her digital wristwatch.
They took off their coats tried not to show any concern. San put on a smile. "Yeah, Mrs. Jung. The gnomes should be gone now."
"Thank you again for the help, boys. I couldn't have gotten rid of them by myself," she told them, an apologetic look on her face when she spotted the gnome bites on their arms. She held up a small jar. "Here, have some cookies."
"Thanks, mom," said Wooyoung as he took the cookie jar from her, "We'll have them in the kitchen."
She waved them off with a smile and refocused on her sitcom. Once in the kitchen, Wooyoung pushed himself up to sit on the kitchen isle with the cookie jar in his lap while San stood leaning against the counter opposite him. The cookies were as soft and delicious as they had been on Christmas Eve. They ate them in silence. It was like they'd unanimously decided not to mention whatever had happened in the backyard.
San spoke up first. "I've been thinking about something."
"What is it?"
"Remember what your father said at breakfast yesterday? About ministry officials going missing lately?"
"Yeah..."
"What if the Cleanse people are somehow related to that? Do you think they might still down there somewhere?"
Wooyoung's eyes widened. "What, in the Department of Mysteries?!"
San threw a look in the direction of the living room to make sure Wooyoung's mother wasn't listening. He shrugged. "I don't know. I heard that regular workers aren't allowed to go down there. Ever. It'd be a perfect hiding spot for a questionable cult."
Wooyoung tried to keep his voice down. "But that would be crazy risky! It'd only take one of the authorized workers to spot one of them walking in and out of there and their cover would be blown!"
"If they managed to convert your uncle, who's to say they didn't do the same to other Unspeakables?" Unspeakables were ministry employees who worked in the Department of Mysteries. They were forbidden from discussing their jobs or disclosing any information about their department, hence the name "Unspeakable." Stephan had been one of them, and he'd abused his position to help the New Lord. "They'd completely fall under the ministry's radar. Hiding in plain sight," San explained. "What if you're not the only victim they held hostage down there to take advantage of them in some way."
Wooyoung considered his words. "So you're saying they kidnap ministry workers and then hold them hostage in the Department of Mysteries? Right under the ministry's nose?"
San nodded and took another cookie. "That's my theory. The big question is why."
A moment of silence settled between them as they racked their brains. "Maybe they're doing it to convert them or something," Wooyoung suggested after a while.
"You mean like a brainwashing lab?"
"I don't know, maybe. I wouldn't put it past those freaks."
"Why ministry workers, though? Wouldn't it be much easier to pick random people? They're being way too careless."
"Good point..." And even so, wouldn't it be a lot more subtle to just use the Imperius Curse on their victims instead of kidnapping them? "Making this many people disappear in such a short amount of time attracts attention. Why would they risk being found out by the ministry?"
"There must be a reason why they choose those people specifically. Maybe they need the victims to do a certain task for them. Something a regular person couldn't do."
If that was true, then the situation wasn't so different from the one Wooyoung had been in a month ago. They'd only needed him to read the prophecy for them. However last time, they'd been a lot sneakier about it. Were they getting desperate? Was this a hasty measure to ensure future success? It didn't seem like their style. "Dad said they were all from different departments, though. I don't know that they have any preference for their victims' job specialization."
"Right..." San raked a hand through his hair. "Then why pick ministry workers?" he repeated. He'd said it more to himself than to Wooyoung. His focus had shifted inward. Wooyoung felt the frustration grow in San's mind. Those dark feelings that group always caused in him threatened to lift their ugly heads again, and Wooyoung didn't like it at all. He hopped off the kitchen isle to cup San's face in his hands.
"Maybe it's completely unrelated after all. We don't have a whole lot of clues to go by. Let's not get lost in speculation." San regarded him for a few seconds. The darkness in his mind seemed to melt away a little as he did. He gave a small smile.
"You might be right," he said finally. Wooyoung planted a brief kiss on his lips. "If we used the time turner to gather some information like we did last time..." He faltered at the warning look Wooyoung gave him. "Not right this instant, of course. But later. It could be a good place to start, at least."
"I suppose it is, yes. We could try to do that once we're back in Hogwarts."
San grinned. "Alright."
Wooyoung's phone buzzed in his pocket. San startled at the noise and looked around the kitchen, alarmed. He looked just about ready to pull out his wand and fight.
"Don't worry, it's just my phone," Wooyoung said with a chuckle.
San visibly relaxed as Wooyoung checked the caller ID. "I thought it was a nest of Vampyr Mosps or something."
"It's Jongho." Usually Jongho texted, so the sound of a buzzing phone was a new experience for San. Adorable. Wooyoung told San to hold on and accepted the call. "What's up?"
"Are you safe? Is someone with you? Is everything okay?"
Wooyoung sighed. The response came out almost automatically. "San is with me and I'm perfectly fine. Just like yesterday. And the day before."
"Good," said Jongho, ignoring his sarcasm.
Out of all his friends, Jongho had taken Wooyoung's incident most seriously. He'd gotten severely injured on their way to escape the Department of Mysteries after everyone had unintentionally split up. Luckily, Yeosang had been with him at the time. Jongho wouldn't have gotten away with just a scar on his shoulder if it hadn't been for Yeosang's immediate help. From what Yeosang had told Wooyoung, he probably wouldn't have made it at all. Jongho never spoke of the incident, or at least not about the part where he'd gotten hurt. It had cost him a great chunk of his former carefree and easy spirit. Wooyoung could only imagine how heavily it weighed on his mind.
As soon as Jongho had been released from the Hospital Wing, he'd begun to put most of his energy into protecting Wooyoung. Just like San, he'd become adamant about taking the blame for what had happened. He'd come up with a detailed schedule that made sure either San, Yeosang, or himself were available to escort Wooyoung to his meals, classes, and extracurriculars. Of course, San and Yeosang had agreed to help, but Jongho was by far the most meticulous about sticking to that schedule even weeks after the incident. In Hogwarts, Wooyoung rarely spent even a minute by himself anymore. It was like he'd gotten himself a personal bodyguard. Wooyoung did appreciate it in a way. He did feel a lot safer with his roommate around at all times, especially because he was terrified by the idea of being alone in the dorm room. The downside was just that it had gotten to a point where Jongho had begun to neglect his blooming relationship with Yeosang just to ensure Wooyoung's safety. Wooyoung couldn't help but feel guilty about that consequence.
"Nothing strange or unusual happened?" Jongho questioned when Wooyoung didn't answer right away.
For a moment, Wooyoung remembered the backyard, then he immediately shook the thought out of his head. It had just been a flickering streetlamp and a gust of wind. He was being paranoid for no reason. He and San had worked outside in the cold for a long time, and their exhaustion had played tricks on their brains. That was it. "Nope, everything's normal."
"Good," Jongho repeated.
"You don't need to worry so much."
"Yes, I do. I want to."
Wooyoung sighed. "I wish you'd put this much effort into your relationship with Yeosang."
"Hey."
"I'm just saying. He likes you; you like him. I don't understand why you two are still dancing around each other.
"I have to go."
"No, you don't."
Static noises sounded through the line, clearly fabricated by a plastic bag. Wooyoung suspected it was one of Jongho's beloved bags of nuts. "The connection is extremely unstable right now. I can't hear you at all."
"Jongho."
More 'static.' "Gee, I better hang up. Bye."
They disconnected. Wooyoung shook his head and stared at the screen in disbelief. That must've been Jongho's lamest excuse yet. When Wooyoung let his phone glide back into his pocket, he found San was occupied curiously examining the mixer. Again, it was an adorable sight.
"Wanna head upstairs now? I'd love a cozy cuddle session and a movie," Wooyoung suggested after explaining the device to him.
San put down the mixer. "I thought you'd never ask."
He once again took Wooyoung's hand and the two of them left the kitchen. Wooyoung had been craving his blanket ever since they'd come back inside the house. He didn't want to think about the Cleanse people and whatever they may or may not be scheming. Even if it was only for a few more days, he wanted to pretend everything was fine. No nightmares, no creepy shadows, no twisted kidnapping schemes. Only San and the warmth and safety his arms promised.