Chapter Text
This was not how his sixth year was supposed to end. Yoongi was supposed to walk through those double doors to the Great Hall, step up to Seokjin and confess. He was supposed to grab Seokjin’s hand, in front of Namjoon and Byulyi and all the Gryffindors, in front of Seunghoon and Jimin and all the Slytherins, in front of the whole school and profess his feelings. He was supposed to tip his head up, lean in and wait for Seokjin to close the few centimeters of space between them, because he would, of course he would, Yoongi was sure of it. He was supposed to end this year with a boyfriend in the form of one Seokjin Kim, one of Hogwarts’ most talented students and future legendary auror. They were supposed to end up together.
Instead Yoongi found himself apologizing to Seokjin in between dodging spells from the Gryffindor Head Boy, shouting sorry's from across the hall. He found himself crouched underneath the Slytherin table, cursing under his breath, wondering where the fuck he went wrong. The last couple of months went smoothly, pleasantly even, the initial animosity between him and Seokjin having surprisingly blossomed into friendship and maybe something more. No, it was definitely something more, he was sure of it. So the image of a red-faced, rage-filled Seokjin sending him flying from the Gryffindor table all the way to the opposite end of the hall had not crossed his mind at all.
Yoongi ducked, a ball of electricity hitting the brick wall behind him, dark smoke fizzing from the spot where his head had been just seconds before. He was about to yell another apology when-
“Seokjin Kim!” McGonagall's voice was distinct and unmistakable, and right now she sounded as exasperated as Yoongi had ever heard her. He popped his head up to watch as the headmistress strode towards Seokjin, her robes whipping behind her from the speed of her steps. For someone so old, McGonagall was quick to move, Yoongi thought to himself not for the first time.
Seokjin stood straight and stiff, his wand now lowered against his thigh. His breathing was labored, anger bubbling beneath the forced stillness, but his expression had changed to surprise then guilt then ultimately deference as McGonagall stopped in front of him.
“Mr. Kim,” McGonagall began, a little tired in the early evening, “you will explain why you tried to redecorate the Great Hall and possibly ruin your future just days before your graduation, and you will do so in my office, but for now I want you to clean this mess.” She gestured to the upturned tables and benches, to the food strewn across the floor, to the ripped banners and burned walls, as well as the curious (and some frightened) faces of the rest of the student body, all of whom had backed away to the corners of the hall to avoid Seokjin’s wrath.
McGonagall placed a placating hand on Seokjin's shoulder and said something Yoongi couldn't hear from where he was squatting. Seokjin, who was bowing in shame, whipped his head up to face her, eyes bulging a little and cheeks reddening again in a blush. Yoongi saw McGonagall glance his way before speaking again to Seokjin and, and did she just smirk? Seokjin was poised to deny whatever McGonagall had whispered to him but she just rolled her eyes and said, loud enough to carry over the distance between them, “I was young once, too, Mr. Kim. Matters of the heart are difficult to bear at your age, I understand. But I wish you would have taken it out on a more productive activity, like helping Professor Longbottom wrangle those weeds growing at the edge of Hagrid's hut?” She raised an eyebrow at him.
Seokjin bowed his head again. “Yes, professor.”
“In time for your graduation?”
Yoongi could almost feel Seokjin’s sigh of relief the way his shoulders sagged a little, thankful that he wasn’t expelled outright for his foolish behavior. “Yes, professor. I'll do that first thing tomorrow.”
“Good.”
McGonagall turned and addressed the rest of the students. “Mr. Kim here will put everything back to its proper place and none of you are allowed to help him.” She gave a pointed look at Namjoon. “The faster he will do so, the earlier you will be able to get back to your supper. So Mr. Kim,” she said, twisting only slightly to let Seokjin know she was talking to him now, “I suggest you begin immediately.”
And with that, she walked out the hall, presumably to her office where she would be waiting for Seokjin and his explanation. Yoongi exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding before glancing at Seokjin. He had started cleaning up, casting spells to return things back to their places. The food had disappeared, probably the house elves’ work, but everything else had to be done by Seokjin. Namjoon tried to help, discreetly removing the burns off the walls but Seokjin shot him a look and Namjoon promptly placed his wand back inside his robe pocket.
Seokjin finished cleaning up within minutes, while Yoongi stood frozen at his spot near the head of the Slytherin table. Not once had Seokjin met his gaze, focusing instead on fixing the benches and tables and coaxing the younger students back to their seats, reassuring them that no, he wouldn't explode like that anymore, and I'm really sorry if I frightened you, I don't know what came over me. A flash of that famous calculated smile and the first years were back to admiring him, though there was now fear mixed in with the awe that usually came when one was met with Seokjin’s smiles.
Yoongi felt a heavy presence behind him and turned to see Seunghoon frowning at him. “That went well, don't you think?” he scowled, sarcasm dripping from every word. “I told you to wait but nooooo, you just had to do it tonight, you just had to do it your way. You never listen!” Seunghoon huffed before taking his seat at their table, now adorned with their plates as they were before Seokjin's outburst, and continued eating his dinner. Yoongi sighed. He would have asked Seunghoon what he meant exactly but he knew better than to expect sympathy from Seokjin's best friend, even if they were in the same house. He fucked up big time, even if he didn’t know why.
Seokjin had disappeared from the Hall and Yoongi had lost his appetite so he decided to call it a night and head back to their common room. He tried to think of every possible reason why Seokjin went off like that. What had he done that pissed him off so much? Yoongi was wracking his brain as he stumbled out of the Great Hall and as he turned the corner, he bumped into the blond head of hair and broad shoulders that haunted his dreams the past few months.
“Seokjin-”
Seokjin blinked twice. “I need to go to McGonagall’s office.”
Yoongi tried to block his way then. “Please, just tell me why. I don't know what I did to make you hate me.”
A pained looked flashed across Seokjin's face before reverting to a cool façade. “The fact that you refuse to remember…,” he shook his head. “I have to go. McGonagall is waiting for me.”
Seokjin looks at Yoongi one more time before leaving him standing half-hidden in the shadows, confused and sorry and alone.
***
9 months ago
This was not how Yoongi envisioned his sixth year to begin. Sixth year was supposed to be quiet, uneventful. He was supposed to keep away from the school's usual suspects of troublemakers, the way he had for the past five years. He was placed in Slytherin for a reason and causing headaches for their teachers was not it. He was supposed to maintain this image of normalcy – the upstanding, if not a little aloof, Prefect; Slytherin seeker; potions genius – the works. He was supposed to continue keeping the younger students in check with his signature glower, which, conveniently, also kept mostly everyone else from getting too familiar, from finding out things they shouldn't. The only person who didn't buy his shtick was Seunghoon, their Head Boy and perpetual pain in Yoongi’s ass.
Seunghoon was on his back the moment he was sorted into Slytherin six years ago. His excuse was that there were no other Koreans in Slytherin and he was more than glad to finally speak his mother tongue to another native without having to wander to the other houses' tables, which earned him some unsavory looks from the more traditional snakes.
He was up for disappointment, though, because Yoongi could hardly speak the language. Born and raised in London, Yoongi had drawled in what would become his identifying bored voice over the years. Seunghoon, unexpectedly bright and positive for a Slytherin, didn't mind. He took a reluctant Yoongi under his wing and managed to push him into trying out for their Quidditch team, encouraged him to explore his skills in potion making, and convinced the right professors that Yoongi would make an excellent Prefect, yes sir indeed. He wasn't wrong on any of those fronts, but sometimes Yoongi wondered how peaceful his stay in Hogwarts would have been if Seunghoon wasn't keen on forcing Yoongi to socialize with the rest of the world and live up to his goddamn potential.
This was one of those times.
He was in the Room of Requirement, now transformed into a traditional Korean house but decked out with all sorts of modern furniture, including a pool table, a film projector that ran on magic, a mini library in one corner and a fully-equipped kitchen in another. Yoongi stared at the pots and pans and utensils and refrigerator (whaaat???), asking himself why anybody wanted to cook when the house elves were perfectly capable of feeding them all the delicious food they would ever crave, anything from pumpkin pie to roast duck. He shook his head and observed the other people in the room instead. Seunghoon had invited him to a super-secret club that only cool people know about two days ago and Yoongi, despite his aversion to all of Seunghoon’s ideas, especially something as shady as a super-secret club, agreed.
He now found himself with what looked like Hogwarts' entire population of Korean students, a whopping ten of them. He knew Jimin and Hyejin, of course, the fourth years who Yoongi deemed were too goddamned cute to be in Slytherin (alright, fine, Jimin was too cute; Hyejin was a Slytherin through and through). He recognized Jungkook, that cocky little Chaser who was probably the dumbest Ravenclaw he had the misfortune to play against (okay, he wasn't dumb, but Slytherin took the worst beating in his time as Seeker against Ravenclaw when Jungkook joined the team last year and he wasn't about to stroke that little shit's ego any more than he needed to, not even in the privacy of his thoughts), and he knew the two Gryffindors, Namjoon and Byulyi, but only because everyone knew who the Prefects and Head Boys and Girls of each house were. The other three kids were vaguely familiar faces he must have seen in the halls, but Yoongi could hazard a guess what house they all belonged to from the way they smiled too wide and laughed too boisterously and moved too much to be anything else. Hufflepuffs.
Yoongi leaned quietly against the wall on the far side of the room, watching Seunghoon try to flirt with Byulyi and failing. Namjoon was talking animatedly with one of the Hufflepuff kids about this famous rapper in the muggle world that he should absolutely listen to. Hosook, or whatever his name was, listened intently, nodding every now and then, asking questions and laughing and shit, as if what Namjoon was saying was the most fascinating thing he ever heard. Jimin and Hyejin looked like they were getting along splendidly with the other two Hufflepuffs, trying to one-up each other with ridiculous stories from their summer vacations, their energies totally in-sync.
That left Jungkook by himself, sitting cross-legged on one of the mats in the middle of the room, rocking back and forth slightly and worrying his lip. His huge eyes flitted from one group to another, silently pleading for any one of them to include him in their conversations, but nobody was paying him any attention except for Yoongi. Their eyes met and Jungkook sent a tentative smile his way, his rather large two front teeth digging into his bottom lip. And god, Yoongi hated him, but he had to remind himself that Jungkook was just twelve and he probably felt completely out of place without any other Ravenclaw in the room and everyone else was being a jerk for ignoring this kid, and he knew that if it weren’t for Seunghoon he’d probably be just as awkward as Jungkook, so he sighed and plodded over to where the second year was sat.
“How’s your arm?” Yoongi asked, by way of greeting. “Heard you took a pretty nasty bludger in the game against Gryffindor last term?”
Jungkook’s eyes widened even more, if that were possible, taken by surprise at Yoongi’s nonchalance. He must have heard about Yoongi’s not-so-sunny disposition. “I, yeah. Um, Skele-gro the entire summer. Um, couldn’t practice flying at all.”
Christ, this kid was shyer than a mooncalf, and suddenly Yoongi wasn’t sure he had the patience to deal with it.
“I guess um that means you guys have a chance at beating us now?” Jungkook said, sass slipping out from behind the timidity.
Did he just-?
Yoongi smirked. This he could deal with. Arrogance and bravado were common traits among Quidditch players and Yoongi knew how to tread these particular waters. “Don’t get too cocky kid. Just ‘cause we lost to you once doesn’t mean it’s gonna happen again. We’ve seen better. You just took us by surprise, is all.” He elbowed Jungkook good-naturedly, reassuring him that this was just friendly banter. Jungkook smiled for real this time, all teeth and sincerity.
“You haven’t even seen me play yet, Yoongi. Not really.”
God, he was a smug little shit.
They continued talking about Quidditch and the teams they supported (Puddlemere United for Yoongi, Chudley Cannons for Jungkook, like the loser he is, Yoongi thought) and grumbled over that fact that Korean teams, both North and South, still weren’t recognized in the World Cup. Yoongi was giving a three-point speech about why Chudley Cannons was the worst team to support when the doors to the room flew open. He heard Seunghoon cry out something that sounded like “took you long enough!” somewhere from his left but he wasn’t even sure if his ears were still working properly because all his senses zeroed in on the figure in front of him. His throat immediately went dry. How could he fucking forget the most popular student in Hogwarts, Korean or not, the celebrated Gryffindor Head Boy, undefeated dueling champion for the past six years, the fucking bane of Yoongi’s existence ever since he figured out that he liked boys. There on the threshold stood the most beautiful face Yoongi was loath to witness. Seokjin Kim had just entered the Room of Requirement.