Chapter Text
Outbursts of accidental magic weren’t uncommon the summer that Miae discovered she was a witch. Cheol’s parents theorized that it was the natural consequence of putting two excitable kids with an excess of magical ability together all summer, with no company aside from each other. Miae theorized that being able to do magic was the best thing that had ever happened to her.
Cheol’s magic would usually be triggered by anger. Anytime the adults had one too many laughs at his and Miae’s expense, they would find themselves mysteriously incapable of speaking for a few hours. Miae, on the other hand, found that her magic overflowed when she was excited. When her Hogwarts letter arrived at Cheol's country home, Miae was so excited that every plate in her vicinity shattered. She was immediately horrified, clapping a hand to her mouth and apologizing profusely.
She ran out of the house before her mother could begin yelling at her, clutching her letter tightly. The adults called after her, but she ran all the way to the little treehouse on the outskirts of Cheol’s property. Running had always been the easiest thing for Miae to do when she was faced with a situation she couldn’t control. She was good at it, and it bought her some time. The wind seemed to carry her along at times, and maybe it really had, with all the excitement and mortification bleeding out of her in the form of magic.
Running wasn’t as effective, though, when someone could run after you just as fast. She had only just climbed into the treehouse when Cheol caught up with her. He climbed up after her, clutching his chest to catch his breath as he reached the top. “Why did you run away?” he asked once he could speak. Miae stared wide-eyed at his red face. “I thought we were gonna open our letters together.”
“I’m so sorry!” Miae burst out. “I didn’t–I didn’t mean to break all your dishes, your parents must be so mad–I’m really, really sorry!”
Cheol rushed forward in the small space, reaching out his hand then dropping it. He looked bewildered by the tears that were now trickling down Miae’s face, the unopened letter in her fist. “Why are you…my mom’s a witch, remember? Stuff breaks all the time, she just fixes it! It’s not a big deal!”
Oh. Right. Miae wailed louder, slipping into a crouch against the old treehouse walls. “I f…for…forgoooot!”
Cheol sighed, long and loud, before kneeling to meet her eyes. He waited for her crying to slow to a hiccup, then waved his own unopened envelope in the air. “Let’s open these and go back, ok?”
Miae felt a little silly then, as she tended to around him. Not exactly embarrassed–just silly. He was younger than her, after all. No matter how mature he tried to act when she was being like this, she would always be older than him, and therefore smarter.
Her tears ebbed, and a few moments later they were easing open their envelopes with shaky hands. Every detail of the thick envelope seemed so beautiful–the red wax seal, the heavy yellow parchment enclosed, the glossy ink curling across the page. They were going to magic school. Together.
The sky suddenly seemed relentlessly blue. A cool breeze cut through the waning summer heat, wove up through the leaves and drifted through the little treehouse. Miae threw her arms around Cheol with a quiet cheer when they arrived at the end of their letters. He pretended to squirm, but she could feel him smiling into her shoulder.
When Miae thought about it, Cheol had grown kind over the course of that summer. Maybe it was the memory of that kindness that she still clung to, even when he had made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t interested in being her friend anymore. It didn’t matter what he said, because they had been friends. No, it was more than that. For a season, they had been each other’s entire worlds.
So it was only much later–deep into the night, when Miae lay staring wide-eyed at her dorm ceiling–that she began to feel guilty. Why had she run away again? She could have easily brought Cheol back into the castle with her. The plastic stars she had stuck to the ceiling glowed faintly in the dark room. She squeezed her eyes shut and rolled over to bury her face in her pillow.
Well, it had already been done. Stunning him had worked, right? Whatever had gone wrong with her jinxes had reversed itself, and the stun would have worn off quickly enough. The only lasting consequence was that she would never be able to face him again, and…well, she could manage that.
Her pillow was too warm. She flipped it around, then kicked her sheets away irritably, again staring up at her glow-in-the-dark stars. Opal the cat, root of all of Miae’s problems, hadn’t returned to the dorm that night; Miae actually couldn’t remember if she had seen her since the fiasco in the common room. Someone–maybe Jiseon–snuffled a little in her sleep. Miae listened to her roommates’ otherwise steady breathing, the faint chirping of crickets, and the occasional whistle of wind past her window, wishing desperately that she could shut her brain off. Cheol was playing the next day…he would be okay, right? It was the first official match of the Quidditch Cup, so of course the turnout would be second only to the final match.
She wondered if she should show up. He would be furious if he spotted her, but they had half their classes together, so she would have to face him at some point anyway. She tugged her sheets back over herself, suddenly aware of the chill that had seeped in with the final dregs of October.
When Miae woke, the sun was already shining through the window, bright and hazy. She had the vague sense that she had woken from an interesting dream, but whatever it was that she had been seeing drifted swiftly out of reach.
The dorm appeared empty other than her. She dragged herself out of bed, changed quickly, and was halfway out the door before she realized that Jiseon had been there the whole time, working silently at her desk. “Jiseon-ah! I didn’t see you,” she called.
Jiseon looked up slightly, looking tense. “Oh, are you heading to breakfast? You should hurry–I already had mine, but the others should still be there.” She turned quickly back to the piles of paper strewn across her desk, her quill hovering over a long scroll.
“‘Kay, I’ll be right back!” Miae shut the door carefully behind her. Jiseon had been growing more and more frazzled with stress every day, and Miae couldn’t blame her. She herself was only avoiding the stress by pretending she didn’t have approximately a full twenty-four hours’ worth of homework backed up…not to mention reviewing for quizzes and midterms and whatnot.
Her parents’ letters these days mentioned the importance of keeping her grades up in just about every other line. Miae almost regretted gifting them that barn owl last year. Her parents didn’t fully understand what she was studying for, but they were convinced that she wasn’t studying hard enough. It was bad enough in their eyes that she wasn’t going to graduate from a decent high school and enter a well-known college…the very least she could do was excel in her magical studies and get a decent, stable job.
Miae didn’t know how to tell her parents that she was far from excelling, and wizarding jobs were even further from stable. Healing was life-threatening, Ministry jobs were either deadly or dead boring, professional Quidditch was…also life-threatening…
She shook herself away from that recurring train of thought, focusing instead on safely descending the many staircases down to the Great Hall. At least Jiseon was focusing. Miae might have to start focusing soon, too.
Jihye and Yunhui were leaving the Hall just as she entered, to Miae’s disappointment. “We were gonna go up and get some work done before the game,” Yunhui said apologetically. “You’re coming to the game, right?”
“Oh–the game–yes. Yeah. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, right?” Miae still hadn’t decided if going to the game was a good idea.
“Your favorites,” teased Jihye. Miae looked at her sideways before pushing into the hall, waving her friends away. Breakfast time was almost over, and the hall was nearly empty. She had never liked eating alone at the vast Gryffindor table, and today was no different; almost as soon as she sat down, she felt a sharp flick to the back of her head.
“Letter for you,” said one of those spiky-haired boys she had never liked. He looked down his nose at her, a little smirk on his face. She grabbed the envelope from where he was dangling it above her head.
“Thanks!” Miae beamed at him, and he stalked away without a word. She couldn’t stand him.
Her attention was quickly diverted by the name written in neat, blocky handwriting on the envelope. Park Jungwook. He was in her divination class…what house was he in again? Miae unfolded the letter curiously.
Miae–
Some of us wanted to organize a study group for Divination OWLs since class seems to be indefinitely cancelled. We’ll be meeting in the library, Dreams section, after the game today. Bring anyone you think will be interested.
Jungwook.
A study group. Miae’s first instinct was to ignore the letter entirely–she worked just fine on her own, and she had done so for as long as she could remember. Still, she read over the note again as she bit into her toast, her brows drawing together. There had been fliers up all over the common room about finding OWL study groups. She was pretty sure all her friends had a group of classmates in one class or another that they studied with before exams. And Jungwook was right…who knew how long Divination classes would be cancelled? Just because Professor Noh was out of commission didn’t mean their exams would be cancelled too.
In the end, it didn’t take her long to make up her mind that, if she survived the game, she would head right to the library afterwards to meet Jungwook and his group. Maybe it would even be fun!
And really, how hard could it be to survive a game she wasn’t even playing in? Miae hid behind her bangs as she climbed up the stands. She thought again–and it felt as if the thought had already crossed her mind many times over–that it wouldn’t hurt to get a haircut. At the moment, however, she was grateful for the little cover her overgrown bangs provided.
She wasn’t ready to face Cheol. Not that she would be facing him, or that he would even be able to see her…but she wasn’t ready. For once, she was glad that she was shorter than all her friends…all two of them, that was. Right before the girls began getting ready for the match, Jiseon had trudged over to the others, rubbing at her eyes.
“Think I’m going to sit this one out and get some work done. Maybe I’ll join you all later?” She didn’t meet their eyes.
Going to quidditch matches (and getting ready before them) had become a bit of a tradition between them since Miae had made it onto the team. Miae couldn’t remember the last time she had gone to watch a game without all three of her friends next to her.
“Are you sure?” she asked, tilting her head in concern. “You should take a break, you’ve been working for hours.”
A distinctly un-Jiseon-like expression passed across her face. “Yeah,” she said shortly. Then she turned away from them and slumped back down at her desk.
The dorm had grown somewhat awkward afterwards. Miae, Yunhui, and Jihye still did their usual pre-quidditch routines. They passed around Jihye’s blue face paint and swiped stripes beneath their eyes, having unanimously decided to support Ravenclaw; Miae dug out some glitter that she had smuggled in from the local Muggle makeup store in her town, and they did their best not to go overboard smearing glitter all over their eyes and cheeks.
All of this they did in hushed voices, so as not to bother their friend. Every now and then, Miae would look back at Jiseon, who was still working with single-minded focus. Jiseon didn’t spare the rest of the girls a second glance. When it came time to leave, none of them mentioned what they were thinking about Jiseon, although Miae couldn’t think about much else.
Anyway. That had brought them all here, with Miae once again worrying about Kim Cheol. She hid further behind her friends. They patted her shoulder sympathetically as they filed into a row of seats, both pushing down identical smirks.
“For the record, I don’t like either of you,” said Miae to the floor of the bleachers.
“Okay,” said Yunhui blankly.
Miae got the strange feeling that her turmoil was becoming as entertaining to her friends as the game itself. She looked everywhere on the field except for Cheol as the blue and yellow players wove around each other, the quaffle shooting between them.
The game was already off to a bad start for Ravenclaw. Miae almost couldn’t keep up with the red ball with how quickly the Hufflepuffs were passing it between each other. Hufflepuff scored three times in quick succession–Ravenclaw hardly even had the chance to regain possession before their opponents stole it back.
If Miae hadn’t already been rooting for Ravenclaw, pity would have made her cheer for them anyway. Forty-five minutes into the game, they scored for the first time. The blue side of the stands exploded, chanting and cheering in a way that was wildly disproportionate to the numbers on the scoreboard.
In the excitement, Miae dropped her careful avoidance of the area of the field that Cheol was occupying. Her eyes drifted over to where he was hovering after finally letting a goal through. He stared right back at her, eyes narrowed. Something in her chest jolted funnily.
“Oh my god,” She whispered, mortified. Quickly, she slid down in her seat, burrowing further behind her bangs.
“Oh, look at Miae,” she heard Jihye say. Yunhui, who had been completely entranced by the game, immediately snorted in laughter.
“You’ve finally noticed, huh?”
“Noticed what?”
“He’s been glaring at you like that this whole time!” crowed Yunhui.
“No way. No he hasn’t.”
“He has,” said Jihye unhelpfully.
“Oh my god .” Miae looked around herself desperately. “What do I do?”
“I think the better question is what did you do to make him look at you like that?” Her friends peered at her gleefully. Her mistake was staying silent for a moment too long. They broke down laughing again, and Miae glared up at the sky helplessly.
“Do either of you have a piece of parchment?” She asked suddenly.
“Why?” asked Yunhui suspiciously, but she pulled out a roll anyway.
“I’m just going to…” Miae pulled out a quill from her bag and began writing on the parchment in large, scrawling letters. She flipped the parchment over and continued writing. Yunhui, reading over her shoulder, gasped with renewed laughter. “Shut up, Yunhui.”
“Yeah, shut up, Yunhui,” said Jihye in between cackles.
The next time Miae caught Cheol looking her way, she held the parchment (enlarged with a quick charm) up high above her head. “I’M SORRY!!!” it read. Miae couldn’t bear to look at his reaction, so she flipped to the other side quickly. “COME GET YOUR SHOE!”
The blue-robed students erupted in cheers again, and Miae pulled her sign down, confused. She glanced at the scoreboard. Ravenclaw had scored. Cheol was still staring at her, frozen.
Miae looked pointedly away, cheering loudly and belatedly for Ravenclaw. Okay…so that goal getting through had probably been partially her fault. Not really, though. It wasn’t her fault Cheol was always so easily distracted.
The game didn’t go on for much longer after that. Ravenclaw scored a few more times, Cheol appearing more disgruntled with each time the quaffle sailed through a hoop. At the end, Honggyu, who must have seen Miae’s sign from his vantage point as the Seeker, caught the snitch quickly and ended the game before Ravenclaw could catch up.
It wasn’t the worst game Miae had ever seen. If she had been able to focus on anything but her own guilt, it might even have been fun. Gryffindors began rising noisily around her, and she was reminded of the promise she had made to herself before the game.
Quickly, she called out, “I’ve gotta go, I’ll see you girls later!” She rose too, determined to squeeze through the stands and get back to the castle.
“Where are you going?” One of them yelled after her.
“Gotta meet someone! I’ll tell you later!”
“Wait, Miae–” Yunhui called, but the rest of her sentence was drowned out by the rest of the students filing out of the bleachers.
The Dreams section of the library was dusty and empty of life aside from one Park Jungwook. “Oh, hey, you made it!” He greeted pleasantly. Everything about his appearance seemed neat, from his shiny, cropped hair to his immaculately maintained uniform. Miae felt suddenly aware of her own face, smeared with blue paint and glitter. Her robes were wrinkled from the bleachers.
“Hi!” she said after a moment. She sat down across from him, scanning the books he had picked out. “Who else is coming?”
“We’ll see, but I invited the whole class.”
“The whole class?” Miae repeated, dismayed.
Jungwook hummed, turning a page in his book before glancing back up at her. “That’s okay with you, right?”
“Oh…yeah, of course.” It was not okay with her at all, but how was she supposed to say that? Her leg bounced restlessly. She didn’t know what she would do if Cheol showed up.
But no–it wasn’t about whether or not Cheol showed up! The study group was for all of them; it was so they could all do well when it came time for exams. Miae straightened up, pulling out her own books and spreading them out in front of her. Jiseon wasn’t the only one who could study hard!
“Have you been keeping up with your dream journal?” Jungwook asked after a while had passed with the two of them poring over their books.
Miae brightened. “Yeah! D’you think we need to?”
“I’m not sure. But we could trade journals and practice interpreting for each other?”
Miae nodded eagerly. Jungwook seemed like he knew what he was doing. She was glad she’d had all those dreams recently to write about–come to think of it, she felt like she had dreamt something important just last night too, but the memory was still comfortably out of reach…
“Miae?” Jungwook was staring at her, a little tilt of a smile on his face.
“Yes! Um, let me get my journal out,” she said quickly.
It took only a look at the most recent page of her journal before Miae decided there was absolutely no way that she was sharing these dreams. Why had she written them down again? Cheol’s name was all over the page…had she really dreamt about him that many times in the past few days?
She slammed the book shut. Her face felt warm. “Um, actually–I think–I think I have to go!” She shot up out of her seat and began shoveling her things back into her bag.
“Oh, there’s no way…Jungwook, are you serious?” called a new voice, nasal and loud. Miae looked up, journal dangling in her hand.
Bae Honggyu. He glared right at her, arms crossed. Cheol trailed behind him, bag slung on one shoulder. He had changed out of his quidditch robes.
Well, of course he had changed out of his quidditch robes. Miae looked away firmly.
Honggyu was still complaining, having walked right up to Jungwook with his face all twisted up. “Why would you invite her? Don’t you know what she did to Cheol?”
“What did I do?” Miae asked, shocked. To the side, Cheol scoffed. “I mean,” she turned to him, “did you seriously tell him ?”
Honggyu puffed up his chest. “Why wouldn’t he tell me? I’m his best friend!”
Cheol rapped lightly on his head. “Stop it.”
Miae inhaled deeply. “Listen, I’m sorry, okay? I’m really, really sorry! I just wanted to talk!”
Honggyu jabbed a finger in her face before Cheol could respond. “Oh, yeah? Did you ‘just want to talk’ today, too, when you were trying to sabotage our keeper?”
Miae’s jaw dropped. “No, I–”
“Stay away from us, you…you Ravenclaw sympathizer!” Honggyu burst out, face red.
Jungwook chose that moment to interject. “Calm down, Honggyu. I invited everyone from our class. Miae’s in our class. It’s not a personal attack.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m not coming if she’s gonna be here every time.”
Miae was beyond shocked at how childish he was acting. “I was leaving anyway,” she muttered. Then she reconsidered. “But I guess I’ll stay if that’s how you’re gonna be!”
“What’s wrong with you?” asked Honggyu seriously.
“What’s wrong with you ?” Miae parroted.
Cheol made an irritated sort of sound. “Enough! We came here to study. Sit down and study.”
Miae did not sit down and study. She didn’t plan to let Cheol anywhere near her divination skills, for one matter. And Honggyu was still glaring at her, for the other.
“I can’t believe you’re pretending to be sorry when you still have Ravenclaw colors all over you,” Honggyu grouched. In the next moment, he was snatching Miae’s journal right out of her hand and dangling it over her head. Miae’s heart dropped.
“Give that back!” she yelled.
“Nuh-uh.” He made a show of opening the journal and flipping through it. Cheol ignored them and sat down across from Jungwook. Panic buzzed in Miae’s bloodstream–it didn’t matter if what she had written down in her dream journal were just her dreams. To Honggyu, they would seem incredibly incriminating.
“I’m serious, give it back.”
“Only if you stop sabotaging our games.”
“You won the game!”
Honggyu paused on a page, falling silent. Miae’s heart thudded in her ears. She’d had enough. She aimed a sharp kick at Honggyu’s shins and leaped up, intending to snatch the journal back. A black blur–Bird the magpie, Miae realized slowly–shot through the space above Miae’s hands with talons outstretched.
Somehow, Bird grabbed the journal first and dropped it safely into Miae’s hands. At least, that’s what she thought happened. She shoved the journal back into her bag through a haze and backed away from the table. “Let’s study together another time, Jungwook,” she said in some semblance of cheerfulness.
Her blood boiled all the way back to her dorm. She hated bullies like Honggyu. And worse, their friends who stood by and let them pick on her. Like Cheol.
October soon drew to a clumsy end. The wind toppled through shedding trees. The tidal wave of responsibilities assigned to the fifth years kept them all, even Miae, neck deep in schoolwork day after day. She didn’t mind it, for once. Anything that kept her from having to face a Hufflepuff was okay with her.
Honggyu and Cheol stayed firm on their refusal to go to Jungwook’s study group if Miae was also there, so Jungwook–who Miae had discovered was an angel–met with Miae one-on-one as often as they both could. Then there was quidditch practice with Nari, who had been growing ever more dictatorial, and separate practices with Johan, and…well, it was safe to say that Miae was absolutely overwhelmed.
One morning, Jihye peeked into Miae’s bed hangings, glowing. “Good morning!” She chirped.
“Morning. Feel like I haven’t seen you in so long, Jihye,” said Miae sleepily.
“You see me everyday,” Jihye laughed. “We live in the same room.”
“Yeah, but…you know. Where have you been?” Jihye flushed inexplicably and shrugged. Miae stared suspiciously at her reddening face.
“Where have you been, Miae?” Yunhui interjected, giving Jihye an easy way out of whatever she was hiding.
Miae furrowed her brows. “I’ve been right here! What do you mean?”
Yunhui frowned in return, shifting her gaze to stare with interest at a point three feet to the right of Miae’s head. “Just seems like I never see you anymore, what with quidditch and all your new friends and all.”
New friends? Miae looked up at Yunhui. The conversation seemed to have tilted out of her control. “I guess we’ve all been really busy,” Miae mumbled. Her gaze landed on Jiseon, who was still firmly in her corner, buried in books.
The silence stretched for a moment too long. Jihye, ever the mediator, gathered Miae’s and Yunhui’s hands up after another moment and brightened. “It’s okay! You guys know Halloween is like…in two days, right?”
Miae nodded, pouting slightly.
“And we’re spending the whole evening together, right?” Jihye continued, a little more forcefully.
Yunhui grinned. “Does Jiseon know we’re spending the whole evening together?” she ribbed.
“Hey, Jiseon, did you know we’re spending the whole evening together?” Miae asked loudly.
Jiseon looked up. “Huh?”
“Halloween. Jihye commands us to spend the whole evening together,” shrugged Yunhui.
Jiseon smiled weakly. “Yeah, alright.”
Yunhui’s shoulders relaxed a little, and she glanced back at Miae with her face clear of the strange twisted expression that she had worn earlier.
Miae smiled. “Halloween!” she said happily, and wriggled out of her covers to dive onto Yunhui’s bed.
“Ugh, get off!”
The world tilted back, if only briefly.