Chapter Text
This time, it’s Yoo Joonghyuk who’s in the Room of Requirement, sifting through book after book of offensive spells and dragon counter-charms when the door bangs open and Kim Dokja bolts through, falling bonelessly into a heap on a futon couch that appeared from nowhere.
“Ughhhhhh,” Kim Dokja groans loudly. “Fucking Song Minwoo and his lame-ass cronies. I hope he falls into the lake.”
Yoo Joonghyuk watches in amusement as Kim Dokja rolls over on the couch, heedless of his silent companion. He decides to make his presence known.
“Be the change you want to see in the world, Kim Dokja. Ever heard that?”
Kim Dokja bolts upward, eyes wide and expression blank. When his eyes land on Yoo Joonghyuk on the other side of the room, he relaxes visibly. “Yeah sure,” he says. “It’d be my pleasure to feed that asswipe to the Giant Squid.” With a dramatic sigh, he drops back onto the couch. “Squelch doesn’t deserve that, though. Gotta keep her diet pristine.”
Yoo Joonghyuk squints. “...Squelch?”
Kim Dokja freezes. “Uh, yeah.” Yoo Joonghyuk raises an eyebrow and Kim Dokja looks away, grabbing a book from out of thin air. “She’s helped me out a few times.” Yoo Joonghyuk keeps staring in bewilderment, and Kim Dokja clutches his book to his chest. “I was tossed into the lake last year, so we’ve formed a bond, of sorts.”
Marking his page, Yoo Joonghyuk turns in his seat to face Kim Dokja. “How’d you find her name?”
“Ah, I named her. She said it was okay.” He stares up at the ceiling, contemplative. “She’s actually really nice, as long as you don’t try anything dumb…more of a mother figure than someone who wants to unnecessarily commit violence. Don’t judge a book by its cover.”
Yoo Joonghyuk considers Kim Dokja, whose head is steadily sliding off the couch cushion. “You speak squid?”
“Yoo Joonghyuk,” says Kim Dokja with a look of complete seriousness on his face, sitting up at last when his head had reached a place of no support. “Have you ever heard of the wonderful, all-encompassing language of the body? Hey, don’t look at me like that, I didn’t mean it in a weird way.”
For indeed, Yoo Joonghyuk has his eyes narrowed in Kim Dokja’s direction, trying to shield himself from the bullshit spouting from the latter’s mouth. “I see,” he says plainly.
“It’s not uncommon for animals in the wild to sense aggression solely through body language,” continues Kim Dokja, steadfastly ignoring Yoo Joonghyuk’s non-response. “So why can’t we apply that to humans too? Aren’t we just as animalistic as the next species?”
No, Yoo Joonghyuk was going to say. He thinks there are more than just a few behavioral differences between himself and the Giant Squid, but he keeps his mouth shut because Kim Dokja just keeps going and going.
“And anyway, inter-species communication and cooperation is a thing at Hogwarts, I believe. Hagrid’s got his…friends, Dumbledore’s on great terms with the merpeople, and even McGonagall can speak to cats.”
Yoo Joonghyuk’s gaze jumps away from the little clump of hair that’s standing straight up from Kim Dokja’s head at the declaration. “McGonagall? To cats?”
“She’s an Animagus, isn’t she?” Oh, right. She had Transfigured herself for her classes at the beginning of their third year. “I’ve done some reading; Animagi generally can communicate at a very surface level with the species they turn into.”
“Interesting,” Yoo Joonghyuk muses. “You still haven’t answered my question, though. Are you saying you speak squid because you read squid body language? Or you’re an Animagus who can transform into a squid?”
Kim Dokja laughs nervously and very suspiciously. “I wish. Though maybe a squid wouldn’t be an ideal animal to turn into.” He stares into the distance for a bit before seeming to come back to himself. “Oh wait, I just remembered something. You’re a Parselmouth, aren’t you?”
Yoo Joonghyuk flinches. “Yes.” He hadn’t had a great experience with people finding out in his second year.
“Then you’ll understand,” smiles Kim Dokja. “I’m also like a Parselmouth.”
Yoo Joonghyuk’s apprehension vanishes. “A Parselmouth. For squids.”
Kim Dokja nods solemnly. “Yes. It runs in my bloodline.”
Yoo Joonghyuk is ninety-nine percent sure that Kim Dokja is muggleborn, but that’s not the kind of thing you ask a Slytherin that you sometimes spend time with.
“Sure,” he says instead. “You’ll have to introduce me sometime. To Squelch.”
He gets a dazzling smile in return, and he still kind of wants to punch Kim Dokja for it. Thinking better of it, he settles for returning to his desperate search for anti-dragon countermeasures with vigor. What if he produces a smell so bad that the dragon has to escape the area?
There’s a rustle of pages from Kim Dokja’s side of the room that tells Yoo Joonghyuk that Kim Dokja has also stopped fooling around, for now.
As they work in silence, the Saturday afternoon light fades to the gentle glow of dusk. By the time Yoo Joonghyuk shuts his last book and collapses onto his desk in exhaustion, his back is sore and his eyes absolutely detest him. He doesn’t even realize he’d fallen asleep until he’s nudged awake by something cold on his cheek.
“Hey, Yoo Joonghyuk.”
Yoo Joonghyuk opens bleary eyes to see a gentle smile, radiant on Kim Dokja’s face. “You’re still here?”
“You have eyes. Where else would I be?”
He blinks at him, then at the plates Kim Dokja is holding in his hands. “What are those?”
“Leftovers from the Great Hall. I think we missed dinner.” Kim Dokja sets a plate of cold rolls and treacle tart on Yoo Joonghyuk’s desk. “I couldn’t really find anything else,” he says sheepishly, grabbing a roll and taking a bite. “They’re still fine though, I think.”
Yoo Joonghyuk blankly watches Kim Dokja chew thoughtfully for a bit before snapping back to himself. “Let’s go,” he says, getting up and shrugging on his robes.
“Where?” asks Kim Dokja curiously.
“Kitchens.”
Yoo Joonghyuk feels something warm in his chest when Kim Dokja stuffs the rest of the roll into his mouth and follows Yoo Joonghyuk out of the Room of Requirement without further inquiry.
“I didn’t know we had access to the kitchens,” says Kim Dokja, trailing behind Yoo Joonghyuk as they enter the empty hallway.
“Me neither. Wukong snuck me in a few times last year.”
“Hmm. Do you even need to bulk for Quidditch?”
“No. He said I looked like I hadn’t been eating properly over the summer.” Yoo Joonghyuk takes Kim Dokja’s wrist and gently pulls him over so they’re walking side-by-side. “And he likes my food.”
“You cook?” asks Kim Dokja, falling into step with Yoo Joonghyuk.
“I’m great at it,” he replies smugly. “You’ll see.”
Kim Dokja makes a face and quips back sarcastically, but Yoo Joonghyuk can’t suppress the inexplicable joy from being able to walk alongside Kim Dokja so carefreely.