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PROLOGUE

“Firing a regular spell, or a hex,” Minhyun explains, gesturing to the blackboard he has in front of him, “requires the person to focus, take time to be accurate, and then say the incantation. I’ve found a way to shorten, and the spell will focus automatically.

“Let’s say someone is firing at me,” at this point, something fires out of the darkness and rebounds off an invisible dome-like shield around his body, “I say ‘Reperio’ and the shot fires. Watch.”

Minki tucks his feet up above him, watching the proceedings with a cool gaze.

“Reperio!” Minhyun commands, and the shot fires out automatically. He shoves his wand back into the holster and spreads his arms, grinning. “Fashioned after the muggle gun, because Jonghyun says we cannot bring muggle guns into this—”

“But, we can be inspired,” Dongho finishes, leaning against the wall and grinning. “Mind if I try it out on you, Hwang?”

Minhyun nods, summoning his wand again with a flick of his fingers, and Dongho disappears. Aron sighs and constructs an invisible wall for the rest of them to peek through while the two play.

“Mutatio Skullus! Ebublio!”

Minhyun dodges easily and shouts, “Reperio Claudus!” The bright, yellow spark shoots through the air and jerks to a stop before a gap before the wall. Dongho materializes seconds later, the improved Invisibility Charm melting off his shoulders.

“Nice,” Dongho comments, stepping out of the firing range. “it would work fine as a Point Me. What about real damage?”

Minhyun waves his hand, and the spark continues on its journey to hit the pillar behind it. The wood splinters and explodes, and Dongho scurries out of the way with a scowl on his face. Aron banishes the wall and utters a hurried ‘Reparo’, turning to look at Minhyun with an exasperated look in his eyes.

“Minhyun—" he begins, but Jonghyun interrupts him.

“Wandless?” he questions, and Minhyun shrugs, pointing to him with the tapered end of his wand.

“That’s for you to find out,” says he, a little tiredly. “Have to practice though, it takes energy.”

“We’ll start the drills again,” Jonghyun nods once, then walks quickly out of the room. Aron sighs at his leaving back and turns to Minki.

“He’s stressed, isn’t he?” he asks. Minhyun’s smile has faded away to something a little more thoughtful and profound.

“Doesn’t sleep, anymore,” he murmurs, placing his fingers on the edge of the wooden table. “Spends his time trying to help me with the Arithmancy in the spellwork.”

“You’re doing well,” Dongho says comfortingly, reaching a hand out to pat his shoulder, “besides, we still have Aron, he’s coming back for DADA.”

“Bloody NEWT students,” Minki complains, his white hair tousled. Aron runs his fingers through it in fascination, and the boy bats off his fingers with a warning frown. “It’s ridiculous.”

“I lived, so will you,” Aron admonishes gently, pressing the pads of his fingers into Minki’s scalp to soothe him. “Stop being spoilt brats, all of you. We have other things to worry about.”

“How’s the Twenty Eight?” Dongho asks.

“Boring,” Aron snaps, letting go of Minki’s head. “My time is wasted there.”

“Why are you boys aren’t asleep yet?” Minki’s mother demands, clicking down the steps in her black flats and putting both hands on her hips. “Jonghyun is in bed already!”

“That loser didn’t warn us!” Dongho exclaims in betrayal, and Minki’s mother’s bosom swells in outrage.

“To sleep!” she continues scolding, although a half smile is playing on her lips. “Off! We will start again tomorrow-”

Minki pauses before the door, holding his mother’s hand and leading her to bed. She’s getting a limp, he notes in disappointment. His mother tells him to dye his hair back to black, so he nods and kisses her on the cheek before he goes to sleep.

The day they receive their O.W.L. results come faster than they expect. Four letters land on the Choi-Fawley mantle on Saturday morning in the middle of a six a.m. breakfast. Dongho rips his open first, then beams and reveals that he’s got eight O.W.L.s. At that, Minki rolls his eyes languidly and comments that if Dongho got eight, he would get nine. So he gets nine O.W.L.s, as expected. Minhyun gets eight O.W.L.s, while Jonghyun gets ten, along with a congratulatory letter written by Dumbledore. He reads through it before scoffing and passing it around. It reads:

Dear Mr. Kim,

It makes me proud that such a fine pupil from my establishment—a Hufflepuff, and a muggleborn!—has earned such grades. I hope to see you excel in your N.E.W.T.s as well.

Signed,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,

Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft And Wizardry

Minki’s mother lets out a long-suffering sigh and banishes the card, then continues buttering her roll.

“What does yours say, Aron?” she inquires, and Aron shrugs.

“I have to leave earlier to set up my classroom,” he indulges, “and I have to patrol the train.”

“Fair enough,” Dongho mumbles from a mouthful of pound cake.

“Dongho,” Minki scolds, and the boy mutters an apology before stuffing his mouth.

“Today, we’ll be practicing Minhyun’s new spell,” Minki’s father pushes himself upright in his seat. “With the changes in the Magical Cabinet… things are getting rocky. We need to be ready.”

“Yes, sir,” Minhyun answers. Minki’s father rises from his chair and jabs a finger at Jonghyun, and the two of them go out to practice first. Minki’s mother turns to Minhyun with a frown.

“Jonghyun’s all tense,” she accuses. “Did you two fight?”

“No…” Minhyun says, uncertain. “At least, I don’t think so?”

“Jonghyun is just worrying,” Dongho, at long last, provides some useful insight. “Ever since he saw the boggart upstairs by himself again, he’s been a little paranoid.”

“There’s a boggart upstairs?” Minki’s mother shrieks, horrified. Dongho jumps in his seat as if he’s been kicked from under the chair. Minki shoots him an irritated glance, then prods Aron with his elbow.

“It may be a good idea to see what our fears are,” Aron interrupts smoothly. “After all, they are our weaknesses.”

That leads them to the top floor, where Dongho points to a cupboard. It starts rattling the moment they set foot into the room, and Minki’s mother strides across the room to get to it. The four of them line up, one after another, with Minki in front. The last time he did it, he fainted. This time, he says, he wants to defeat it.

“Here we go,” Minki’s mother says, yanking the door open. The boggart lifts itself out of the cupboard, curling like black smoke on the floor and stopping inches away from Minki. He tilts his chin up defiantly, and the pile of smoke almost… smiles, then separate to form five very familiar figures on the floor.

Minki opens his mouth, screaming a little bit. There’s a hand on his shoulder, and then the hand disappears. Strong arms wrap around his waist, and someone whispers to him, “You have to do it, Ren.”

Almost instantly, he remembers another sentence: “I just thought… that you’d make a powerful wizard.”

“Riddikulus!” he howls, tearing himself from the person’s grip and lunging forward blindly. He points his wand, almost jabbing it into the smoke. The boggart disappears to show Dumbledore in Victoria Secret lingerie, and Minki stumbles. There is no energy left in him to laugh. Someone picks him up from the floor easily and sets him to one side of the room to recover, and a chocolate bar is shoved into his hand. He leans against the wall, forcing his eyes open, and tears off the wrapper.

Aron’s fear is the same as Minki’s, but he manages to say the counter curse much quicker than he does. Dongho’s fear is apparently their ghosts—the boggart forms four wispy apparitions that stretch their smoky fingers out to them. Dongho tries to punch the boggart in the face, then yells out, “Riddikulus!”

Minhyun is next, trembling. The smoke splits into five, except Minhyun freezes long enough for them to make out what he’s seeing—it’s him, Minhyun, except with big black wings and black eyes. The boggart is holding Jonghyun around the waist, almost like an embrace, but he has a knife in his other hand pointed at his neck. Around the boggart’s feet are the bodies of Minki, Aron and Dongho, as well as other people he cannot see. As they watch, the boggart slits Jonghyun’s throat.

Minhyun howls in anger at that moment, and Minki briefly registers that his hands are alight with flames again before Minhyun reaches forward to clap his hands around the boggart’s ears. It shouldn’t be possible, yet the sheer power of Minhyun’s rage burns the boggart. The creature howls, in Minhyun’s voice, and ducks back into the cupboard. Minki’s mother slams in shut, chest heaving.

Someone runs up the stairs and slams open the door. It’s Jonghyun, whose face is red from exertion.

“Minhyun,” he begins, and his mate turns to face him. Something changes in Jonghyun’s expression, a feeling of something wrong, before he slumps sideways to the floor.

Minki’s mother makes a distressed noise and runs forward to roll him so his back is to the floor.

“I didn’t—” Minhyun exclaims in fear. “I didn’t do anything. Oh God—”

Minki scampers from his position on the floor over to Jonghyun, doing a basic Diagnosis spell on him.

“Minhyun, he’s okay!” he calls out to his best friend, who has Aron and Dongho trying to calm him down.

“He’s... he’s alive?” Minhyun checks, voice terrified.

“He just went to sleep,” Minki checks the lights above Jonghyun’s body. “It seems that his brain shut down for him to get some rest.”

“I…” Minhyun stutters. “I have to go.” He walks the long way around the room, giving Jonghyun’s body a wide berth, and runs out of the doors. Minki looks to Dongho for an explanation just as they hear the front door slam shut.

“It’s just shock,” Dongho soothes, coming forward to pick Jonghyun up. He seems to have shaken off the fear from the boggart, but Aron calls out to him before he can leave with Jonghyun.

“What are we going to do?” their eldest asks. “Our weaknesses are each other.”

“Hyung,” Dongho says gently, “so are our strengths.”

It is around a week later that they Floo to Diagon Alley to purchase the books for sixth year. Aron has left for Hogwarts with his three trunks and Minki’s mother burst into tears while seeing him off. Minki looked to the side, rubbing at his forehead, and finally Aron hugged them all goodbye before apparating off.

They get their books fairly quickly, dropping by the ice cream parlor for afternoon tea—right until they see Draco ducking into Knockturn Alley.

“Harry,” Jonghyun breathes in recognition, eyes fixed on somewhere behind Dongho’s back, and they all turn to watch Harry—and presumably Ron and Hermione—disappear into thin air.

“James Potter did have an Invisibility Cloak,” Dongho sighs, shaking his head. “Man, the things I could do with one.”

“Do we track them?” Minhyun asks, and looks away when Jonghyun tries to look at him. Minki frowns at the sight.

“Jonghyun and Minhyun go,” he orders, and Minhyun turns to him with a despairing look. “The three of us are not done with our ice cream.”

“Dongho’s done,” Minhyun says flatly. Minki looks at the table and scowls, shoving a Galleon into his best friend’s hand under the table.

“I’m going to buy another one!” Dongho chirps, holding up the Galleon for everyone to see. “Bye!”

Aron shoots him a look of amusement, but he glares back and jerks his chin at the couple who are sitting next to each other, but awkwardly. Minhyun has his arm over the back of Jonghyun’s chair, yet the limb is so tense it’s practically trembling. Minhyun is also leaning slightly away from his mate and his body is turned towards Minki’s. Jonghyun seems to know that something is wrong, for he keeps making failed attempts to grab Minhyun’s hand.

“You’re mad at me,” Jonghyun murmurs, and Minhyun huffs out a sigh.

“I’m not mad at you,” he says, and Jonghyun stops. Minhyun halts in his footsteps a moment later, turning back to look at him.

“That’s the first time you’ve looked at me properly for a week,” Jonghyun scowls. “Do you take me for a fool, Hwang Minhyun?” Minhyun winces and steps forward, reaching out to his mate.

“I’m angry you passed out,” he murmurs, pulling him into a hug. “I’m angry my Boggart is of me killing you.”

“See?” Jonghyun complains, punching at him weakly. Minhyun puts his chin on top of Jonghyun’s head and closes his eyes. “This is what happens when we don’t communicate— Let go of me.” Minhyun’s eyes snap open and he lets go. Jonghyun spins out of his grasp, running down Knockturn Alley. Minhyun curses and runs after him.

His boyfriend stops behind some paper boxes, stooping low. He copies the movement, bending down low. As they watch, Draco comes out of Borgin and Burkes looking very frazzled. After he stomps off, Harry and his friends materialize out of nowhere, chatter quietly between themselves, and then stalk off after their enemy. Jonghyun clucks his tongue and straightens himself, then pauses, looking back at the mouth of the alley.

There are three people striding down, and the biggest one on the right side has an ice cream cup in his hand.

“Took you long enough,” Minhyun growls, and Minki winks, looking down at their intertwined hands.

“I took as long as you two needed,” he announces. “What’s happening?”

“Draco went in, something happened,” Jonghyun says, pointing to the sign that says ‘Borgin and Burkes’. “Minki, open the door and interrogate him. There might be curses and stuff.”

“And stuff,” Dongho mimics, and Jonghyun slaps at his hand. Dongho drops the spoon, and he looks up, an expression of ultimate betrayal on his face. Aron sighs, pinches at his nose bridge, picks the spoon up, does an ‘Evanesco’ and hands the spoon back to Dongho to prevent the upcoming tantrum. Thankfully, Dongho is appeased and goes back to his ice cream with one last glare at Jonghyun.

Meanwhile, Minki and Minhyun are already at the shopfront. Minki touches the doorknob, and the door swings open. Dongho hands his cup over to Jonghyun, then walks up the steps.

“I think only the two of us should go in,” he says, and Aron nods once in acknowledgement, then grabs Jonghyun and Minhyun by the ears and hauls them down the steps.

“We’ll be at home!” their eldest calls, spinning on the spot and Disapparating back home. Minki watches them go with pity—he never liked Side-Along Apparition. Dongho ducks into the shop without hesitation, and he follows behind with a last look at the alley.

Minki removes the hood of his jacket, looking around. The entire room radiates with Dark Magic, the magic so potent it slides beneath his skin and breathes into his ears. Dongho seems to be excited, his hands are trembling.

“How may I help you fine gentlemen?” someone croaks from the counter. It takes all his training to prevent him from flinching when he turns. The man at the cashier has been cursed at with boils all over his face.

“Choi-Fawley Minki, and my associate,” he gestures, “Kang-Selwyn Dongho.”

“Selwyn,” the man breathes, “and Fawley… ooh, you boys are playing naughty, aren’t you?”

“We’ve come to check on Draco Malfoy,” Dongho says authoritatively. “What did he ask from you?”

“Oh, but I can’t reveal my client’s secrets, young—” the man’s sentence ends with a howl as Dongho wandlessly breaks his leg. Minki glances over at his friend in shock, he’s never seen Dongho so Dark; his eyes are nearly a flat black. Minki steps closer and curls his hand around his friend’s, and Dongho jolts. When he looks into his eyes, Dongho seems to have calmed a little, eyes going back to their original caramel brown colour.

“Speak,” Minki pronounces the word precisely.

“He wanted me…” the man’s chest heaves, “to fix a Vanishing Cabinet. Please, that’s all.”

“A Vanishing Cabinet?” Minki casts one of Minhyun’s strongest Shield Charms over himself and Dongho. “Very good. We’ll get going now.”

“Wait!” the man calls out as they step out of the door. Minki closes the door once Dongho is fully out and turns back to look at the awful man. “I have… something for you.”

“Something for me?” Minki inquires, stepping a little more into the man’s line of sight. The cashier grins slowly.

“Something of great power, young sir,” the man purrs. “Something only you can appreciate.”

Minki tilts his head and makes a careful, tentative step towards the counter.

“What is it?”

SIXTH YEAR

The train blares out a final call of warning to the youngsters crowded around their family on the platform, and Jonghyun looks away from the window to inspect the newest arrival to their cabin. A fifth year prefect—Ravenclaw, he supposes—smiles awkwardly and proffers a piece of parchment. Jonghyun stands, reaches out a hand and takes it, unfolding it to read the words: You are invited to Professor Slughorn’s private compartment for an afternoon soiree. He glances up and nods at the prefect, and the boy slips away without a mention of his anxious countenance or the sudden silence his presence inflicts upon the entire cabin. Jonghyun shuts the door and turns back, locking it with a wave of his hand behind his back.

“So,” Minhyun says softly, gazing coldly at the intrusion of the usual five, “you’ve decided to come for us for help.”

Draco Malfoy twists his fingers, and Jonghyun identifies the ring he turns on his thumb as the Malfoy ring.

“And what makes you think we would be inclined to offer you amnesty, Heir Malfoy?” Minki tilts his head dangerously, and the words hang between them. Draco makes a strange choking noise.

“Lord Malfoy,” he mutters under his breath. Aron and Minki share an incredulous look, and Draco straightens his back before declaring strongly: “It’s Lord Malfoy, Heir Choi.”

“Indeed,” Aron inclines his head, “well met, Lord Malfoy. If you don’t mind me asking—”

“My father is dead,” Draco says blankly, lower lip tugged between his teeth, “and instead of him, the Dark Lord resides in my house under my protection.”

Jonghyun moves purposefully between the two rows of hostile boys, taking his seat nearest to the window opposite Aron.

“I see,” he observes calmly, “unfortunately, I am not inclined to take your word for it.”

Draco swallows, then his fingers pull the sleeve up his left forearm. The compartment darkens slightly, and Jonghyun observes Dongho’s sharp recoil as the first mark of black peeks out beneath the white shirt.

“Stop,” Minhyun demands, and Draco freezes.

“No,” Jonghyun overrides, leaning forward so he can see better. “Show me. Look away if you—”

Draco yanks his sleeve up, and Jonghyun studies the Dark Mark with fascination. Beside him, Minhyun’s fists are curled and his boyfriend is pressed backward into the seats as far as he can, as if escaping the very sight of it. Jonghyun casts a wandless revealing spell over the arm, which lights up green but turns into black smoke very quickly. Blinking, he removes the bottle of rubbing alcohol from his bag and uncorks it, pouring it over the wound-like mark. Draco hisses, eyes snapping up to his in betrayal. Jonghyun quirks his lips in response, returning to his seat and slipping the bottle back into his bag. With barely concealed haste, he covers his mark again and looks down in shame.

“Your protection?” Minhyun cuts the silence directly. Draco glances up and sighs tiredly, hand coming up to rub his forehead.

“Malfoy protection,” he corrects, “before he passed, my father…”

“How did he die?” Dongho interrupts, eyes narrowed. Minki raises an eyebrow, but Dongho refuses the chastised look that often comes in similar scenarios, instead looking at Draco like he’s a rogue bludger.

“He was killed by the Dark Lord,” Draco says shortly, breath rushing out of his body and leaving him helplessly slumped against the seats, “and left bottles of his blood behind under a powerful stasis charm.”

“Polyjuice,” Aron snaps his fingers, concentrating. “Hiding in plain sight.” Draco sighs unhappily, and Jonghyun opens his mouth.

“You have patrolling to do,” he tells Aron, who nods in acknowledgement and gets up to leave.

“Wait,” Draco stands too, and five wands are pointed at him at once. Shaken, he raises both hands in defense, speaking quickly, “can you… Can you promise that you won’t tell…”

“Not an oath?” Aron questions with amusement.

“I don’t think I have that much leverage over this discussion—”

“Well-spotted, Malfoy,” Aron’s voice is warm, and the tone of it is all Jonghyun requires to confirm his judgement, “but out of proper decency, I promise you that this remains secret.”

“Thank you,” Draco whispers, his voice rough, lowering himself back into the seat. Aron gives a sharp nod and ruffles their hair before he leaves, closing the door behind him.

“Why us?” Jonghyun questions, and Draco looks up, but not at him.

“Your call for allies isn’t subtle. And… because you will win this war,” he smiles emptily, eyes focused on Minki, “no matter what side you are on. And Slytherins always follow the top of the pack.”

“A wolf metaphor is not something I would expect a snake to use,” Minki comments wryly.

“Well,” Draco says candidly, “at this point, I’ve come to no longer give a fuck about expectations.”

Jonghyun laughs, and Minki joins in after a few seconds of shocked silence.

“You surprise me, Draco Malfoy,” Jonghyun grins, and Minki stands. The both of them swap seats, with Jonghyun now the nearest to the door. Draco’s eyes widen, and Minki gives him a disarming smile. “I call this meeting to order. Let’s make a deal, Draco Lucius Malfoy.”

Draco looks on as Jonghyun conjures a plush armchair to rest in at the head of the compartment, the back resting against the door of the compartment. The lock slides shut with a definitive click that makes Draco sit up straight.

“Well, Lord Malfoy?” Jonghyun says keenly. “Let’s talk.”

“I enjoy the meetings too…” Dongho identifies the voice as Luna’s by the rare, tranquil quality it holds, “it was like having friends.” He frowns and slips into her line of vision, smiling softly when she splits off from her… acquaintances to greet him.

“Hi,” she breathes, eyes alight. He nods back, hand coming to rub the back of his neck. “I looked into the bit of information you passed me over the holidays, and I think you might be right.”

“Explains the nargles,” he says with an insouciant shrug. Luna bounces on her heels, and he snaps his chin in the direction of her other friends. “The DA beginning again?”

“Something like that,” she copies his shrug, sticking her hands in her pockets. While he looks like a common pureblood gangster, Luna looks more the part of an innocent kid. He reaches out with one finger to push her spectacles further up her nose, ruffles her bangs, and leaves to join Jonghyun waiting for him. Luna is staring after him when he looks back, and he gives a tiny, uncertain wave before scuttling away. Jonghyun trails behind him, just reeking of amusement, and he elbows him viciously as they split up to sit at their tables. Dongho watches as Jonghyun settles easily into the crowd of Hufflepuffs, charming them all with his soft eyes and a shy smile.

There has been a shift in the dynamics at the teachers’ table, he notices. Smiling absently at Neville, he registers Horace Slughorn at the table, and Professor Snape’s unusually smug expression.

“How was your summer, mate?” Dean Thomas nudges him, and he grins.

“Well, bruv,” he drawls, “it was very enlightening…”

Their weekly meetings go by without much social trouble—Minki bangs his books down on the table hissing angrily about how Harry “weasled his way into Potions, Minhyun, I just know it” along with the Weasel himself, and “ thank God the Granger girl is competent, every single time Professor Snape calls for pairs I just grab onto her and not let go”. At this point, Jonghyun looks up, with laughter in his eyes, and says: “I know, she told me that much.” Dongho starts chuckling manically as he recounts Harry’s less than ideal start to the Quidditch team auditions, which he himself undoubtedly made his way in. Minhyun reads off a few letters from Fleur, who recounts her dramatic experience at Gringotts and her blossoming friendship with Bill Weasley. Minki calls it “a good choice”, and Jonghyun terms it as “blessedly fortunate” with a blush on his cheeks. Aron watches the four of them grow up, week after week, in the safety of his personal office. Of course, not everything is fun and games. As the sun slips out of sight, Jonghyun leads them in drills, shooting spell after spell in an effort to get them to become as agile as possible. He bests them all, of course, and it’s a sight to see the normally clumsy boy spin elegantly out of the way as Bat-Bogey Hex is flung in his direction.

The mentioned boy also develops a permanently stressed countenance, as well as a blanket of self-torture. His smiles have begun to evaporate faster than water out in strong sunlight, and Minhyun takes determined efforts to make him happy, even turning up at his office in the middle of the night on a non-meeting occasion.

“What do you want, brat?” he rubs his eyes, staring at his friend.

“What does Jonghyun like?” he asks in return, and Aron snarls, shutting the door in his face.

The next morning, Minhyun receives a slip of paper that says ‘ Video games’ as well as a crude drawing. He turns it around and begs for an interpretation of the abstract art, and Lisa Turpin informs him that it’s a Muggle conception called a ‘Nintendo’, and the odd, round symbol is from the game ‘Pokemon’.

“Not that the Nintendo would work here,” she says off-handedly, eyes dropping back to scan her book on Herbology. Minhyun has never managed to hold her attention for more than five minutes, so he counts it as an achievement that she’s still talking to him. “The wards here clash with the electricity in the batteries.”

“Electricity…” he savours the word in his mouth. From his knowledge of Muggle Chemistry, batteries are sort of dry cells, perhaps formed from electrolysis… or something. His lack of knowledge disturbs him. He manages to obtain a contact for a Muggle electronics shop from Colin Creevey, and orders one on Aron’s account.

The pinch he receives from Professor Fawley and the hours spent on building new, ward-accommodating batteries is worth it when he sees the expression of delight on Jonghyun’s face when he’s presented with the toy at their anniversary.

His boyfriend lights up from the inside at the sight, slotting in the game card reverently and screeching when the Nintendo actually lights up. Their romantic dinner (with a lot of help from the house elves, let’s be honest) is quickly forgotten as Jonghyun pays him no mind. Minhyun can’t quite find the capacity in him to be annoyed, watching the beauty of Jonghyun’s smile illuminated by the small white box and ingraining the memory in his brain.

September 13th is a strange day for Hogwarts. The school is leaden down with something, something deep and sad.

Jonghyun later hears Hannah’s sobs all the way from the boys’ dormitory as she packs her things to go home. He clambers off his bed and to the entrance of the Common Room, standing together with his Hufflepuff brothers and sisters as they weave protection spells over Hannah. The girl is broken, entirely, and her entire body shivers with the aftershocks of her breakdown. Jonghyun moves forward to hug her, before letting her go, praying that this time isn’t the last time he’ll see her again.

Their comfortable weekend is disrupted by some idiot who comes trampling into the quiet, cosy Hufflepuff common room, shouting about how Katie Bell has been cursed. The news is startling enough to pull even Jonghyun away from his beloved Nintendo.

“Cursed?” he questions.

“Yeah, by a necklace, apparently,” the girl recounts. “Harry Potter was saying that it had to do with Draco Malfoy, but Malfoy was in detention with Professor McGonagall—”

“Did you say… Malfoy?” he checks, closing the screen of his Nintendo. The girl nods, saying she got her information fresh from “Lavender Brown herself, you know”. He thanks her for her information and sends an owl to the Slytherin dorms. Pressing his temples, he uses his wand to write out a message on the back of his palm.

Meeting, ROR. Now.

He taps his wand on their hands as they come in, and Draco stumbles in, eyes wide and hair in an array. He’s been woken from slumber, evident from his untied shoes and half-done tie. There’s a mark on his face that looks suspiciously like the page of a book.

“You called, boss?” Dongho asks wryly, settling into his bean bag. Jonghyun observes Draco look around at the new furnishings in wonder.

“Draco,” he states, and the blonde looks back at him without starting, which is… startling. He inclines his head towards the mismatch of chairs and bean bags and armchairs in the centre of the room, and Draco settles himself cagily in an armchair. Jonghyun takes the yellow one with pink flowers. “What’s this I hear about Katie Bell?”

Draco pales, if that were even possible, even further.

“You Imperio-ed her,” Minki shakes his head, holding up a wand that is distinctly Draco’s. He’s nicked it. “What would Dumbledore say, Malfoy?”

“Like I give a flying fuck—”

“Draco.”

“It was a package to be delivered to Dumbledore, okay?” Draco says tiredly, throwing his arms up in the air. “Why do I even choose you lot—You’re all so—”

“You know why,” Minhyun’s voice is as cold as ice, and it silences Draco so abruptly even Jonghyun is surprised.

Slughorn’s Christmas party has Aron on patrol duty to ensure that there’s no one hiding below the table and engaging in physical affection. He wrenches two couples slobbering over each other apart and sends them straight to their dormitories without a second thought, keeping an eye out for his friends.

Minhyun and Jonghyun are speaking quietly in a corner, wearing mismatched clothing that looks somehow adorable. He’s pretty sure the wine-coloured robe on Jonghyun belongs to his boyfriend, for the sleeves are a little long and the ends of the expensive cloth drag on the floor. Shaking his head, he directs a transfiguration charm at the article of clothing, grinning to himself when Jonghyun yelps in surprise as the robe fits his leaner frame. Minhyun’s eyes dart about the room, interested, only relaxing when they meet each others’ eyes across the room. They share a quick smile, and Aron moves on.

Harry Potter has invited Luna Lovegood to the party, and while Harry is nowhere to be seen, Luna is in Dongho’s arms. The both of them are dancing to a particular mix of foxtrot and the salsa, and they are a sight to behold as they laugh and skip around the perimeters of the room. Lovegood tilts her head back to laugh even harder, and her golden ringlets spill down her back. Aron gets a split second vision of those curls wrapped up in a purple scarf, the silver ribbon fringe fluttering in the wind as the girl flees a lighted tent. Dongho sees him at that moment, and he plasters a smile on his face before quickly moving on.

Minki’s left early tonight. Slughorn’s Christmas party holds no significance to his list of priorities, and apparently one of the baby serpents tonight have received feedback from their esteemed Head of House. The poor girl was in tears, the last he heard. Aron moves on further, before raised voices draw his attention to the corridor outside the office.

“Argh, take your hands off me, you filthy Squib!” Draco hisses, being dragged mercilessly into the centre of the dance floor, where Slughorn holds court. Filch has an unusually smug expression on his face, and the fingers around Draco’s bicep are white.

“I found him lurking in an upstairs corridor!” Filch announces. “He claims to have been invited to your party!” Aron sighs and fights valiantly against the urge to press his fingers to his eyes. Draco shakes Filch’s hand off him at long last and stares petulantly to the floor.

“Fine, I was gate-crashing,” he snaps, rolling his wrists. Aron notices that it’s a strange habit the boy is accustomed to making when he’s being put on the spot. “Happy?”

“I will,” Snape steps forward in the ensuing, crushing silence, “show him out.”

“Certainly,” Draco sneers insolently. Aron begins to move, standing right at the door just as the pair leave. The boy refuses to even look in his direction, the beginnings of an embarrassed flush beginning to form on his cheeks. Aron won’t be surprised if Potter is trailing behind them. Wherever Draco goes, Harry does. Like a moth drawn to a flame.

YULE BREAK

Dongho tightens his hold on Jonghyun as they make it through the Malfoy gates. Even by touching, he can feel the coolness of the Malfoy wards—assessing, observing, deeming him worthy before it draws back and allows him to enter. Jonghyun is different. His face contorts slightly with pain, before Draco Malfoy appears and touches him and Aron, whisking the eight of them into the ballroom.

“Happy Yule,” Draco says, and opens the door.

Inside, the hall is bustling with festivities. He spots Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass in the corner laughing hysterically, fingers clutched around glass flutes of blood-red liquid. A small boy dressed in gold finery bursts through the crowd, his mother trailing exasperatedly behind him, clutching at her skirts. Dongho seizes the child, whisking him up from the floor.

“What’cha doing there, my man?” Dongho tweaks his nose and the child peers imperiously at him, swiping chocolate across his jacket.

“Michael!” his mother exclaims in outrage. “Never have I been so embarrassed by your crass actions—Oh.”

“Aunt,” he greets cheerfully. The woman flushes and reaches her hands out for the child. Dongho deposits the sulking boy into her waiting arms and tilts his head. “It’s been a long time.”
“Hello, Baekho,” she says sadly. “It has.”

“What are you doing?”

Aron glances up to give his foster mother (of sorts) a nod, then focuses back on the task at hand, piping the cupcake batter into their cases. Minki’s mother snorts as she sees the ingredients laid out on the table, putting two and two together. He quirks a corner of his lips in response, and the woman reaches out a finger to taste the icing as he waves the tray of cupcakes into the oven, wiping his forehead with his palm.

“Is this about dinner?” she teases, licking her pinky clean. “The icing is good, he’ll like it.” Aron flushes slightly, saying: “It’s lavender and earl grey infused buttercream.” Her lips twitch in amusement at his obvious escape from her first question. “I do hope you will continue the line, Aron.”

He grins bashfully, and she holds her cup of water up to him in a toast.

“It’s two in the morning, go to sleep once you’re done,” she commands, and he nods sheepishly. She gives him a fond smile and ruffles his hair, leaning down to press her lips against his forehead. “Young love,” she sighs in reminiscence, then leaves him standing in her kitchen with his lavender and earl grey infused buttercream.

She pretends not to stare at Minki’s reaction to the cupcakes in the morning, instead choosing to peer into the fridge. All eleven remaining cupcakes are done beautifully, with tiny silver pearled sugars and crystallised violets. Snorting, she looks up to where Aron is watching her son eat the culmination of his hard work—Minki looks unimaginably pleased, and Aron mirrors the expression on his face. She hides a laugh when Minki kisses Aron on the cheek and demands for more sugared sweets.

Minki’s mother may have a limp but she’s no sitting duck. Within moments, she has Minki pinned against the wall with nothing but her fists.

“Again,” she directs, wincing as she hears her husband throw their other son into the shared wall between the two rooms. She does hope Minki understands that while Aron is her son, he most certainly isn’t Minki’s brother.

Although he is a brother in some ways… she muses. The bond the five of them share is something inherent, something built and founded around mutual respect and trust. So absorbed in her thoughts is she that she blocks Minki’s attempt of tripping her before realising that it’s a ruse and receiving a sharp left hook.

“Mother!” he exclaims, as she holds a hand to her cheek. It’s sticky with blood, and she lets him mother her, ironically, before tackling him and pinning him stomach down to the ground, laughing at the look of betrayal on his face.

Christmas is a quiet affair, and Minki chatters about his potions, then directs Jonghyun to explain how he’s managed to weave a little bit of airthmacy into his stasis spells, and how he might be able to apply this to more healing spells that he’s creating. Minhyun shakes his head. Only Jonghyun would learn about the magical properties of numbers and use them to predict the future for his healing spells.

“And your beautiful charms, Minhyun?” the patriarch asks, setting his soup spoon down. His bowl disappears instantly, and the invisible house elf casts a cleaning spell on the utensils used.

“I was thinking,” Minhyun says slowly, “about elf magic.”

“What about elf magic?” he sounds interested, at the very least.

“Hogwarts have anti-apparition wards, but the house elves apparate in the caste just fine,” he observes. “It seems, almost, that the elf magic has trumped over the ancient wards of Hogwarts.

“But elf magic and our magic work on…” he glances at his boyfriend, “different wavelengths, so that wouldn’t be fair.”

“Indeed, Minhyun,” Aron praises. “House elves are able to apparate inside Hogwarts because they work for Hogwarts… but I cannot, because house elves tie their magic to the land Hogwarts stands proudly on.”

Beside him, Jonghyun gives a jerk and stares at Aron. They share a long glance and a slow blink, and Minhyun deciphers the exchange as a promise of a later meeting. Not without him, for sure, although for now he praises the elves’ cooking out loud and grins cheekily as he hears a chorus of excited voices coming from the kitchen.

“You think I should tie my magic to Hogwarts?” Jonghyun paces, and Aron twirls the glass of elf wine in his hand. Minhyun gapes at the both of them in a rather unseeming manner.

“No,” he says drily, “you think you should tie your magic to Hogwarts.”

“That’s true,”  Jonghyun admits easily, slumping onto his four poster bed. They’re inside the bedroom Jonghyun’s assigned to (which technically means it’s his, but Jonghyun’s far too kind to accept charity from the Choi-Fawleys)  and Minhyun takes his regular seat at the vanity. He’s not sure why there’s a vanity in a man’s room, but he judges not. “I feel the magic in the walls, the power of the wards. I have to admit, being at Hogwarts makes me feel better.”

“Could be your attachment to the place,” Minhyun holds up a finger to theorise. “You were introduced to magic there, and you’ve stayed there for very long. It’s… common to develop a bond.”

“I should tie my magic to Hogwarts, then,” Jonghyun decides. “It’ll make me stronger.” It’s almost as if the task ahead will be easy.

Aron calls on a house elf named Dobby to take them to the ward stones, and Jonghyun, Minhyun and Aron sit outside the rings of power.

“This be the binding place,” Dobby insists, refusing to touch the stone. “Dobby is a free elf!”

“All I have to do is touch this,” Jonghyun says softly, feeling the sentient magic of Hogwarts brush against his magical core. It feels warm, and ticklish. He lets out an involuntary giggle. Dobby nods, ears flapping against his head. Slowly, he reaches out his palm and presses it flat against one of the stones.

Immediately, his mind is swept away from reality. The sensation of wet soil against his fingertips and the hard, warm surface of the wardstone against his palm ebbs away. For a moment he drifts calmly, then a room fashions himself in the strange version of reality it has entered. He watches as the Great Hall is painstakingly fashioned, and the double doors swing open at the end of the transfiguration.

The woman framed between both doors needs no introduction. Even from one end of the Hall, he can feel the strength of her power.

“Hello, child,” the Lady greets with a motherly smile. He flinches when she crosses the room in an instant, smoothing his hair back with a very corporeal hand. “I know what you’re here for, but first, you need to fix something.”

Jonghyun closes his eyes, casting his mind over every nook and cranny of the castle. Up here, his brain is much clearer, much more effective. He opens his eyes in confusion when he finds nothing out of the ordinary, and then his eyes land on the staff table. Scanning the row, he identifies the Headmaster’s seat, the Deputy Headmistress’s, the Professors....

There’s a black mark on the chair the Defence professor usually takes, and he steps towards it, hand reaching out. The mark hisses at him, almost like a petulant snake, spreading even more viciously like black fault lines across the ingrained wood.

“The DADA curse,” he mutters under his breath, “of course.”

He closes his eyes again and draws upon his magic core, pulling the Light from inside him and funnelling it into the mark. It makes no move, instead the dark magic sours even further. He blinks, withdrawing his energy, and walks forward to seize it. To his surprise, his hands do not pass through the smoke and instead latch upon a spherical object.

It takes him all his strength, but he pulls. He pulls even harder when it refuses to budge, and when he pulls his entire body weight against it, the sphere relaxes its hold onto the chair, fleeing from his grasp. He sits down very suddenly on the floor, aware of his overexerted magical core, even though he hasn’t lifted his wand.

“Well done,” the Lady cheers, reaching out to grasp his shoulder. At her touch, the throbbing in his forehead clears and he manages to stand. Hogwarts seizes him by the shoulders and leans her forehead into his, murmuring a quick spell that lights his vision up gold. “There’s that. Welcome home, son.”

“What—” he mutters. “What… How…”

“You have many questions, and I would like to answer them all,” Hogwarts says cheerily. “But there is a Veela descendant next to you as well as a professor, and both of them are about to go into hysterics. You’ve been with me for nearly an hour in that world.”

“An hour?” he echoes in surprise, eyes wide. He turns back to the teachers’ table and notices something he did not see before— another black mark, slick as oil, on the armchair of the Headmaster’s seat.

“Time is relative here,” she draws his attention back to her and shrugs, a fluid motion that fails to budge the phoenix that lands on her shoulder. “I’ve marked you as a descendant of Hufflepuff… the blood was there, no matter how little.” Her words are beginning to run together, and Jonghyun blinks tiredly. She offers him a manual he promises to inspect thoroughly, then sends him back into his physical body without answering any further questions.

He jerks awake, pulling his hand away from the ward stone. Immediately, Minhyun clutches at his wrist, turning him so he can meet his eyes.

“Okay?” Minhyun questions, and Jonghyun nods weakly before slumping into sleep.

SIXTH YEAR, CONTINUED

The state of Dumbledore’s hand fails to elude him, and Aron speaks to the Headmaster in private after one of their staff meetings.

“Sacrifice, my boy,” Dumbledore holds it up. It’s an ugly, shrivelled thing, and the only ornament that decorates it is a ring of gold, inlaid with a cracked black stone. “May you never know the pain that comes with it.”

At this moment, Severus sweeps into the room unannounced, and probably uninvited too. Aron eyes him with calm detachment—Snape has never treated him with anything more than poorly disguised contempt, and his scare tactics failed to impress anything favourable on him when he was still a young student.

Aron takes his leave quietly, but hesitates just outside the door, just in case. Snape offers him nothing but a sneer and waves his wand to shut the doors.

Draco makes his second mistake in the first days of March, causing pandemonium in Diagon Alley and Hogwarts. Jonghyun catches him lurking outside the Hospital Wing and drags him to a secluded corner to speak with him.

“Really?” he sighs, “poisoned mead?”

Draco shrugs off his hand.

“I’ve had to get creative, okay?” he hisses back, eyes blown with something like desperation and fear. “You lot aren't doing anything.”

“We are supporting you,” Jonghyun touches his shoulder again, “you know?”

“Much help you are,” Draco says bitterly. In the dim light of the castle’s lamps, he looks a little bit like a ghost--or a descendant of the Bloody Baron. “Much help support does.”

“Draco,” Jonghyun looks him in the eye, “your choices are yours to make. It's your life.

“Not your father's, not your mother's. Before anything, you are a Malfoy. The Malfoy family has stood for generations. You choose the way you want to lead yours.”

“It's not that easy.”

“Nothing is easy,” he replies ruefully, dropping his hand. “But then again, we are the choices we make. Draco, we've supported you, for who you are.

“But can you support yourself and your family? Can you step out from your father's shadow?”

Draco hesitates. Their eyes meet, and Jonghyun sees the same look he sees in the mirror every day. Torn, conflicted, afraid--

“I don't know,” Draco murmurs.

“Neither do I,” Jonghyun smiles, stepping away. “But I try my best, Malfoy. I always try.”

It takes a while. But eventually, Narcissa Malfoy disappears, and Draco withdraws from school to mourn. Later, when Jonghyun stops by the Manor for the funeral, he notices that the wards no longer feel unwelcoming. Instead, they are warm and inviting. He looks up at the gallery, seeing Draco observing the proceedings with a cool gaze. Their eyes meet, and Draco gives him a firm nod.

He smiles.

Dongho writes half a dozen letters to his… estranged family, focusing on the women. Women of Sewlyn blood have always risen high above the men. He hopes that these women—these mothers, these wives, these sisters, these daughters—will respond to the Heir of Sewlyn.

Even if it is too late for their marriage counterparts and family members-in-law, Dongho would like to think that they have retained enough of their spine (despite being sold away) to make the most advantageous decision for themselves and their children.

He’s discussed this with his grandfather, after the death of his parents. He knows that there have been mistakes made by the House of Sewlyn. He knows that he must fix it, as the Heir.

Dear Lord Sewlyn, he writes. As Heir, I have decided on our position in the coming war. We will no longer allow for our members to have their decisions made by others. I am calling a full family meeting in May. There, we will discuss the future of our House. Please remember, I only work for the advantage of the Sewlyn family. Love, your grandson.

He watches the owl spiral its way out of the Owlery with his eyes narrowed and lips pursed in thought.

In June, Minki notices a change in Harry’s behaviour. He’s withdrawn into himself even more, shifting subconsciously away from even Hermione and Ron during meals. Mealtime are not so interesting anymore, with Draco no longer here to scream taunts at Harry from across the Great Hall. He’s not sure where Draco is now, but he sure hopes he’s holding up alright.

“Minki,” Zabini says, “Harry’s being weird.”

“He is,” Minki agrees, spearing a potato with his fork and chewing on it thoughtfully. “He’s been given knowledge he can’t handle.”

“Hm,” Zabini comments, eating from his own plate and slapping Crabbe’s hand away when it sneaks towards another plate of roast meat. “Stop it, Vince. You’re going to get even fatter.”

“Don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Crabbe mutters under his breath agitatedly, holding the injured hand to himself. Minki gives him an exasperated look, and the other shuts up immediately. Slytherin’s been treating him well recently, ever since he stabbed Smith’s hand with a knife the last time the idiot tried to touch him. The incident had even gone unnoticed, except for Aron’s quick gaze that sweeps over Minki’s body to make sure that he’s alright before he returns his attention back towards the conversation held at the Head’s table.

Later, Minki tells Dongho what he’s thinking, and his best friend confirms his suspicions. Harry has woken up every night gasping since the start of the week, ever since the Headmaster called him to his office to discuss something that has left the Golden Boy rather obviously shaken.

It is nearly two weeks later when Minki slips himself under a Disillusion charm, as well as the necklace gifted to him in Borgin’s. The necklace’s strange properties are… strange. With the jewel touching his body, he can locate anyone he wishes, as well as remain entirely undetected. He knows this by experimenting, of course. He’s seen Lupin transforming under the full moon with the necklace on, and the werewolf had run away once he lifted the Disillusion charm.

It’s playing with fire, but that’s how Minki is, he supposes. His forte.

Aron wakes up to heavy thundering on his door. Staring blearily into the darkness, he only registers Minki’s wet, shuddering form when his gaze drops to the floor. Gasping, he seizes him around the armpits and hauls him back into his room, kicking the door shut and activating the golden coin. Within moments, Jonghyun is letting himself and Minhyun in, both barely dressed. It takes another minute for Dongho to crash in, topless, through the door.

Aron checks Minki over, hissing when he sees the deep scratches against his skin. His healing magic tells him that they have been caused by the Inferi, which makes no sense . There are no Inferi within Hogwarts. If there were, Jonghyun would know.

Speaking of Jonghyun, the boy drops to his knees and whines softly. Minhyun catches him before he can collapse entirely to the floor.

“What?” Aron demands, drying Minki and setting the unconscious boy before the fire to warm up before incinerating his clothing and giving some of his own for him to wear. “What happened?”

“Hogwarts,” he groans. “Hogwarts is… angry.”

Very quickly, Aron waves a hand and the light in the room turns red, with a chilling wind sweeping through the room. The castle exhales, billowing centuries of dust into the plains outside.

“Why is Hogwarts angry, Jonghyun?” he asks, knowing the answer. Briefly, he recalls Draco’s white face, the clutch of his hands against his forearms, the way the boy child pleaded for him to save him.

“Intruders,” Jonghyun hisses, pushing himself up. “Deatheaters. Coming through the Room of Requirement.”

Years later, when Aron thinks back to this moment, this is what he will remember: Minki’s body hanging limp in his favourite armchair, his wounds knitting themselves together. Dongho’s heaving ribcage as he casts ward after ward on Aron’s room and windows, the magic thickening in the air until pure power weights down on his lungs. Minhyun throwing the door open and firing the Deatheater that runs by with a gust of boiling, terrifying fire. Jonghyun looking up at him, saying: “We have to protect the dorms. I’ll go to Slytherin.”

When he thinks back, he sees the look of identical focus, the look of people with a purpose. And when he looks into a suit of armour, activating it as he goes, he will remember that he has never looked stronger.

He will remember, that it is the start of a revolution.

SLYTHERIN

“Mother Hogwarts,” Jonghyun places a hand on the wall, “help me.” The wall gives at the slightest pressure and he ducks into the tunnel that appears, hastening his footsteps towards the Slytherin dorms. The dungeon is even more imposing at night. He bangs on the door for a good half minute before Zabini lets him in.

“Where’s Minki?” the sixth-year Slytherins demand, holding him at wandpoint. They’ve gathered in a makeshift circle in their lace and silk underclothes.

“Safe, for now,” he gasps out, placing a hand on his heart to catch his breath. “The castle has been infiltrated. Death Eaters.”

“Death Eaters?” Bullstrode says incredulously. “There is no way the Dark Lord would touch us.”

“Not you,” Jonghyun agrees, stepping forward. “But people like Davis?” he chances a look towards the terrified girl. “People like the half-blood second year? The muggleborn first year?

“He will,” he says intently. “Minki is unconscious now, because of Voldemort. Minki is a Pureblood. Voldemort has never given a shit about blood purity. Because, it doesn’t matter.”

Greengrass shifts uneasily, but Nott keeps his eyes fixed on his face, enraptured for some reason.

“Defend your House,” Jonghyun pleads. “Please. If you don’t, the Death Eaters will come in and murder the children in their sleep. They have already began fighting at the Ravenclaw tower. They will reach the Hufflepuff dorms soon, and then some of them will decide, those without Slytherin children, to come here to investigate. To kill. To murder. Please. Defend your House, with me. Or I will die trying.”

There’s a heavy silence in the room. While Jonghyun was making his monologue, he’s drawn quite a crowd of interested children.

“Pansy?” a small boy asks, reaching forward to clutch at her hand. “Mama and Papa…”

Jonghyun looks at Parkinson, watching the conflict dance behind her eyes.

“Mama and Papa are outside, aren’t they?” the boy continues. “They’ll protect us?” The statement ends off more as a question.

“Yes, they will, sweetheart,” Parkinson bends down to pat at his hair. “But they won’t protect our friends. House before blood, Michael. I want you to remember that.” She turns and straightens, stepping towards Jonghyun. He refuses to flinch when she clutches at his shoulder once before stepping out of the dungeons.

As if given a silent command, the sixth years follow her, the sevens close behind. Jonghyun turns to leave too, but Zabini steps out of the shadows, calling the children to go back to their dorms. Nott presses something above the fireplace, and shimmering wards spring into place just outside the doors of every room.

“House secret,” Nott grunts when he sees him watching, “I’ll Obliviate you later.”

RAVENCLAW

“STAY INSIDE!” Minhyun gasps, blocking the entrance to the dorms as a flood of people in black surge down the corridor. Of course, Ravenclaws being Ravenclaws, they refuse to listen to him and peek out of the door in their night robes. Minhyun’s not that decent enough, clothed in a simple shirt and a pair of sleeping shorts, but he’s outside casting spells. He’s protecting his House.

“Shove over, Hwang,” Li huffs, sleeves pushed to her elbows as she wields her wand. Around it, a shimmering blue sword hovers, almost holographic in nature. Minhyun watches with wide eyes as she begins to swing her instrument, slicing away at nearly three intruders at one go.

“You have to teach me that spell,” he calls after her, and she flashes him a quick grin before kicking a disguised man firmly in the balls.

“Defend the House, and then we’ll talk,” she shouts back, spinning further into the chaos, her sword leaving blue mists of smoke in the air as it moves. He checks behind him, and sure enough, some of the older years have ventured out to fight. Minhyun fires another burst of hot air into someone’s face, and runs back to the dorm.

“COVER ME!” he tells Terry, above the noise. His friend tightens his jaw and stands back to back, and Minhyun begins to cast the strongest ward he knows. It’s around 30 seconds in when he hears an explosion from the Slytherin side of the castle, and his heart thunder in his chest before returning to the matter at hand.

Defend the castle, Jonghyun had said. At any cost.

Redoubling his efforts, Minhyun casts ten different wards, grabbing chalk from his emergency bag and drawing runes for good measure. Dropping to the floor, he narrowly misses a disarming spell and gasps when Terry drops to the ground.

“Pass him over!” Lovegood hisses at him, and Minhyun levitates his friend through the door carefully. If he listens closely, he can hear the beginning of several healing spells. Luna takes Terry’s spot to defend him, and he finishes the last of his runes before exhaling deeply, his magic resources lying low.

“One last shot,” Luna pulls him up by the collar of his shirt. “Come on, Minhyun. Let’s go out with a bang. I’ll pull you through the door when this is over.”

“Okay,” he says, words slurring together. Clutching at the nearest stone wall, he prays to whoever is listening and draws the last of his energy to his hands.

“Come back!” Luna is shouting, Accio- ing the remaining Ravenclaws back to the dorm entrance.

“Together!” Minhyun yells, voice failing. “One, two, three—

“Expelliarmus!” a dozen voices cry out together. Minhyun breathes in deeply, waiting just half of a second, and lets go.

HUFFLEPUFF

“Professor?” Abbott questions as he storms into the dorms. “Why did you call all of us down?”

Aron takes a good, hard look at the people gathered around him. Some, he has seen grow from tiny children to developing teenagers. He’s seen them fight, he’s seen them fall in love, and he’s seen them grow to be the people they are today. His throat tightens at the thought of any of them getting hurt, but he soldiers on with his task.

“There are Death Eaters in this castle,” he tells the gathered group of sixth and seventh years. “They have infiltrated Hogwarts, for some reason, and they are moving towards the student dorms very, very quickly. Hufflepuff needs defending. Will you help?”

The answer is, of course, very simple.

Aron wards the dorms as best as he can, then leads his troop of a dozen cold Hufflepuffs into battle, disarming waves of Death Eaters that pour down the stairs. At the corner of his eye, he sees Susan and Hannah working together and bringing down their masked intruders. The sixth year boys are huddled near the doors, shooting off jinxes and hexes at those who come close. Aron smiles slightly, and then he wades into the centre of battle and begins to pick the strongest off.

He comes face to face with Evan Rosier, which makes him stumble back slightly. The man beams at him, exposing all his teeth, and Aron steadies himself, throwing the first offensive spell and ducking as Rosier lunges at him. Aron ducks under something and throws another hex, but Rosier does not falter, continuing to track him as he dances around the room. He prays that the kids are holding off well enough, and then he stops where he started, right in the centre. Huffing, he stuffs his wand behind his ear and raises his hands, levitating the pentagram he’s drawn through the room through pure magic.

Hogwarts, help me, he thinks. The fighting slows as everyone turns to stare at the white, shimmering barrier lifts up into the air, separating the Hufflepuffs from their enemies. With a huff of pure energy, Aron pushes the magic from his body.

Sleep— he’s thinking— sleepsleepsleepsleepsleepsle—

Rosier falls to the ground in an automatic faint, and so do the Death Eaters. With a final push, Aron seals the rune triangle, watching it implode upon itself until the air is clear again.

“Now,” he tells the stunned students, retrieving his wand to transfigure one of his buttons into a Bottomless trunk. “Levitate all of those… assholes into here. We’ll take them as prisoners.”

With a loud cry, the Hufflepuff students begin their work.

GRYFFINDOR

Dongho is greeted at wandpoint when he steps through the door.

“How the hell did you leave the dorms and where is Harry?” Hermione asks, voice low and dangerous. He sighs and steps out of range, still buttoning his shirt. She blushes a bit and looks away, but Ron’s enraged voice cuts in, demanding Harry’s whereabouts.

“Look,” he groans, “that’s not the most important part—”

“What the bloody hell do you mean—”

“—there are Death Eaters in the castle and they are headed this way. And if you want to argue about Harry when the lives of everyone in this dorm are in danger, then be my guest,” he snaps, setting off a firework in the Common Room and watching as the students trickle down the stairs at the noise. “Meanwhile, I’m going to find people that are willing to help.”

He stares Ron down until the taller gives, brandishing his wand.

“Death Eaters outside!” he exclaims, then rushes out of the door. Dongho watches him go, annoyed, then starts to push back the younger years that try to emulate his example. Hermione helps to boss everyone else back into their dorms, locking the doors with some obscure spell Dongho recognises from an old warding book. The remaining seven years trickle out of the dorm, wands ready.

“Let’s go, Granger,” Dongho says, and the both of them make their way towards the door. Outside, the fighting has already begun, with the seventh years fanned out and the sixth years focusing on defending the Fat Lady’s portrait. “We got this.”

LATER

None of them cry at Dumbledore’s funeral.

Harry Potter will tell them about how, just as Professor Snape casts an Avada Kedavra at the Headmaster, someone slight and dressed in a purple cloak disarms the Professor. He will tell them that Snape seizes the wand a second after it slips by his fingers, and that the person laughs before disappearing back into the shadows with a swish of his cloak. There are many holes in his narration, but there is one thing he tells them. He will tell them that the mystery person wore a necklace that hung at his throat, the sparkling obsidian stone there rumbling with power.

When Minki hears this, he pales slightly. Aron casts a look at him and determines the reason why. He had missed most of the battle after all, collapsed in his armchair in his office. The only time they saw Minki was when he had sprinted down to the Great Hall to check on them.

They survived, with minimal scrapes, from the fight. Minhyun’s magical reserves, although his creature inheritance helps him to regain it rather quickly. The professors secure the castle and arrange for the students to return home after the funeral.

The five of them stand at the entrance of Hogwarts, looking at the battle moat and reflecting on the past week of chaos and mayhem.

Perhaps, Jonghyun thinks, it’s time to put the next part of the plan into effect. He voices this, and Minhyun makes agreeing noises, hand coming to rest on his shoulder. Minki nods quietly. Dongho hums and draws all of them in for a team hug.

For a moment, they let themselves just… be. With each other.

Because, Aron thinks ruefully, they can never be sure if they are fully prepared for what’s coming next.