Chapter Text
"Alright Mr. Han, your hand should be good as new by the end of next week. Get lots of rest and do not, under any circumstances get back on that broom until I give the sign off." Madam Pomfrey bustled away, ignoring the groans and protests from the three friends.
"Argh! We're already behind in the season because of me and now I can't play!" Jisung fell backwards onto the bed, disappointed in himself and his bad luck.
"Come on, Jisung! It's only one week, we'll catch up no problem." Changin pulled him back up and heaved him to his feet. "You can't catch the snitch without your hand!"
"There was that one guy..." Felix looked up from the potions homework he was working on and trailed off as he noticed the pair already out the door. He grabbed his scrolls, called a thank you to Madam Pomfrey, and hurried out after his friends.
The Great Hall was almost empty by the time the boys reached it. Jisung preferred it that way, he could think a lot more clearly in the relative quiet, and usually ate a lot later than most of his classmates. He reached a table and collapsed onto a bench, exhausted from the day. Changbin and Felix scooted onto the bench across from him, teasing and bantering with each other as usual. They all piled their plates high and started shoveling food into their faces as if it would disappear before their eyes (and it probably would soon, literally. The house elves at Hogwarts had a schedule to keep).
Supper finished, Felix's eyes were starting to close and his head was lolling against Changbin's shoulder.
"I'll get him back to his dorm," Changbin murmered, smiling fondly at the golden boy. He draped the faintly snoring Felix over his back and carried him out of the Great Hall, in the direction of the Hufflepuff dormitories.
Jisung's whole body felt like lead, so he decided he might as well get to bed too. He dragged himself out of the dining hall and through the corridors of the castle.
As he approached a bend in the corridor, he heard the sound of faraway voices. They were arguing about something, but the words were too faint to make out. Jisung paused and strained to listen, then almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a much closer voice say loudly, "Are you going stand around some more, or will you get on with it?"
Jisung indignantly turned the corner, then stopped in his tracks, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.
It was Minho, the Slytherin seeker, standing only a few centimeters away from the corridor wall, his nose almost touching a painting.
"Er... what are you doing?" Jisung asked nervously. This guy really did seem off his rocker.
Minho sighed and stepped back, gesturing to the painting with his eyebrow raised. "These idiots are standing about like tree stumps when they really want to be fighting a 'glorious battle,'" he said mockingly.
Jisung was about to ask if he really had lost his mind when he heard the smalls sounds of outraged shouting and sputtering coming from the painting.
The piece of artwork was fairly small, about the size of a dinner tray, framed in a weathered, dark brown wood. The painting itself was a bit faded, but he could make out two armies facing each other on a hill, with dark forests curling around the edges.
Jisung realized that the scene was supposed to be a great fight of some sort of historical significance, but right now all the painted warriors were standing or sitting about, looking fairly bored.
"Er... why can't you fight anymore?" Jisung asked. He hadn't actually spent much time conversing with the paintings in the castle, and he felt a bit nervous.
"Our great battle must set your blood afire and fill your head with dreams of victory!" A tiny voice piped up from one of the generals in the painting. "Right now we're... feeling lacklustre"
"You just need some inspiration." Minho snapped his fingers excitedly, "Switch sides!"
A gasp gusted from the painting as all the soldiers collectively jumped up in shock.
"We are loyal to our great nations, we would never switch sides!" The general roared.
"I don't mean fight for the other team," Minho giggled. "Just go to the other side of the hill, and start your battle from new positions."
He turned to Jisung, ignoring the ensuing clamor of tiny voices as the armies start to argue again. "How's the hand, by the way?"
Jisung glanced down at his bandaged limb, testing his fingers carefully. "It'll be fine, I just have to miss the next couple quidditch matches while it heals."
"Hmm," Minho raised an eyebrow. "It would have been more exciting if you had to chop it off."
Jisung's eyes went wide but he recovered quickly, starting to smirk. "You're just mad that we'll still be able to beat you easily in the next match."
"I was looking forward to the unfair advantage," Minho grinned. Suddenly his smile turned evil, and he spun around, back to the painting, whipping a quill from his robes.
"If you blunderheads can't fight properly, I could always find another way to make things interesting." Minho raised his quill and held it close to the sky of the painting, much to the horror of the soldiers. "Did the historical records mention anything about a dragon coming to crash the party?"
"Alright alright!" The other general squeaked. "We'll try the view from the other side of the hill!"
"Come hither, brave warriors!" The first general blustered. "We have new strategy to design!"
Minho stood back and grinned smugly at Jisung. He turned on his heel and sauntered down the hall, leaving Jisung blinking. He wasn't sure if the older boy wanted him to follow but he decided he didn't care. He jogged to catch up.
"Why did it matter whether or not they were fighting?" Jisung asked when he reached Minho's side. "Maybe they needed a break."
"They can do whatever they want. They could've all disbanded and gone on adventures to other paintings," Minho said. "But they've been together for hundreds of years. They wanted to stick together, they just needed some more ideas"
The boys reached a staircase and Jisung realized he had to head in a different direction to Minho. "I'll see you around I guess," he said.
Minho hummed, then headed in the direction of the Slytherin dorms without a second glance.
Jisung shook his head. It was difficult to read that guy. One minute he seemed friendly, and the next he was aloof and distracted. Shrugging, he decided not to hurt his head thinking about it.
But as he finally lay to get some much-needed sleep, Jisung wondered what curious circumstance he would meet the older boy in next.