Work Text:
Jeongguk is suspicious.
It was subtle, but Taehyung had been flightier than usual lately. The dreamy look gracing his pretty face was odd, but what stood out the most was his constant avoidance. Ever since their embarrassing meeting in the girl’s toilets, Taehyung had become the sun in his life. Always there, always warm, always everything wants, everything he didn’t know he needed. But now he raced off to "write a Charms essay, Gukkie" or "just work on my Potions lab!" all the time. Which, obviously, was not true. Taehyung was incredibly apt at writing his papers during breakfast the morning of and scoring an E. Bullshit flows from his quill like the perfume in the prefect’s bath.
Jeongguk didn’t want to bring it up to him, but his avoidance was scary and hurt, made a familiar anxiety rise in his chest, holding his breathe and tranquility out of reach. It made him feel out of control, like the rumors promised he was.
Maybe Taehyung had discovered a new species of flobberworm again. It wouldn’t be surprising, considering how much time he spent sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest. But if that was the case, he would've been ecstatic, immediately showing off its pigment or breeding patterns with the galaxies sparkling in his eyes. What could possibly warrant such secretive behavior?
Or maybe, maybe Taehyung was spending time with someone else. Someone funny, who didn’t need constant reassurances or validation. A girlfriend? A pretty witch, one who could tell the difference between male and female bowtruckles (Jeongguk was trying, okay? The diagram in his textbook wasn't clear and when Taehyung explains it to him he gets distracted by his face) and gave everyone butterflies like Taehyung did (Jeongguk had thought the fuzzies he gets around him was charm at first, but no, it's just Taehyung). The thought of his hyung finding a replacement pulls at his heart.
He sulks, lonely and emo, like always. The Ravenclaw table is emptier than usual. Someone had secretly set up a console in the Common Room last night, and his housemates were heatedly playing muggle video games. Jeongguk would join them, but he clears the Ocean Temple easy, not to brag, but yeah, he's basically a god. Seokjin was in the kitchens trading treacle tart recipes with the house elves. Jimin is perched at the Slytherin table, but considering who he's eye-fucking, Jeongguk would rather not join him. And he’d rather duel the Giant Squid than listen to his older brother pamper and dote on Park Jimin. It didn’t matter that Yoongi was adopted; his undying love for Park Jimin was gross. Namjoon sits at the Gryffindor table, reading a book - "Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland" - while beating Nearly Headless Nick at Wizard’s Chess.
It’s a Saturday, and usually Jeongguk spends Saturday mornings with Taehyung before heading out for Quidditch practice. But Taehyung was busy with other things so.
He’s poutily eating his breakfast and banana milk when he notices her, sitting three seats down from Namjoon. She stares eerily, twirling her wand nimbly between her fingers.
The warmth of the Great Hall seems to drop to ice as Jeongguk stumbles in his hurry to leave the Great Hall. He’s hastily climbing up the staircase when he spots Kim Taehyung, wrapped in a yellow scarf and stepping out onto the grounds. His hair has lavender undertones, and his skin is glowing ethereally. Lately, Taehyung was experimenting with biodegradable cosmetic potions. He’s unfairly good at it, for someone who ditches block period Potions to play with Fluffy on the third floor. He’s also unfairly good looking in the obnoxiously aesthetical colors, but that’s unsurprising, since Taehyung basically is brightness himself.
Instinctively, Jeongguk reroutes. His Transfiguration paper was due soon, but this was Taehyung, and Jeongguk was going to get to the bottom of his strange behavior. His heart trembled at the thought of Taehyung not wanting him anymore, but this was the only one way to test his hypothesis. He braces himself for the possibility that there's nothing special, that Taehyung just got bored of him.
Jeongguk makes sure to maintain a steady distance between them. Ever since Jimin teased him for following after Taehyung like a baby unicorn, he’s been conscientious in his actions. Conscientious as in now he realizes when he’s doing it and just blushes at his inability to stop. He’ll work on it later.
Taehyung beelines toward the dark underwood of the Forbidden Forest. He treks deeper and deeper. Jeongguk is silent, and careful to replicate where he steps; no one knows how to avoid danger like Kim Taehyung, because he unequivocally is danger himself.
Flowers as black as night line the bushes like the fancy fur lining the Durmstrang uniform. The trees stand with the effortless power of a wizened entity. The ancient pride reminds Jeongguk of Albus Dumbledore, or at least what he imagines he must have been like. Part of him wants to see the forest under the moon, see the shadows twisting into the fabric of the night, but he knows that he’s not a Gryffindor. As beautiful as it would be, in that great and terrible way, he wouldn’t be able to face the night equipped with nothing but his irrational fears. Not alone at least.
“Hurry up, Gukkie!”
At a small clearing, Taehyung stops, then spins around on his heels. He tilts his head to the side, dark hair framing his face, as he bounds up to Jeongguk. An embarrassed blush fills Jeongguk’s cheeks as he wonders how long Taehyung had known that he was following him.
“C’mon, c’mon, I can’t wait to show you. She’s so lovely.” Taehyung gushed.
Jeongguk follows obediently. In the clearing, tucked under a tall, twisting tree, is a tire. It’s black and rusty, with “Ford Anglia” enscripted into the dusty rubber. Taehyung is kneeling over the tire, wearing his Eomma face. The face he melts into when a flobberworm nuzzles his lap, or a fire crab brings him berries to eat. If no one’s around, he’ll whip out his smartphone to take cute pictures while cooing incessantly. Whenever he does this, Jeongguk has to suppress the urge to coo incessantly at Taehyung.
“What is it?” Jeongguk demands, leaning closer.
Inside is a giant spherical object. The glistening shimmer alternated between a cool green and a blood red. Oddly, there was something like feathers, creating the effect of a multifaceted jewel. Jeongguk’s hand unconsciously seeks to rest on ruby emerald surface. A thump resonates through his fingers. Almost like… a heartbeat? Jeongguk flinches, and the egg shifts, almost anxiously. The distressed action reminds Jeongguk of himself, wading through the Great Hall alone. Taehyung starts soothing the egg, holding it in two broad palms. The egg melts into his touch, just like Jeongguk does when Taehyung wraps an arm around his shoulders to protect him from the crowd. The tire must have a heating charm cast on it, but there’s a little bit of smoke rising from the egg. The egg heats up happily under their attention.
Holy shit. Taehyung is mothering a dragon.
Taehyung cares. He cares, and cares, and cares.
He cares about the state of the world, the loneliness of the Wizarding World after the war. He cares about the birds in the Owlery, whether they’re getting a well rounded diet. He cares about whether or not the house elves in the kitchens are working too many shifts a week. He cares about the Thestrals, even though he can’t see them. He cares about his family, friends, peers, strangers he meets at Diagon Alley.
Usually, Jeongguk finds this to be a very admirable and attractive trait. But not when he’s on the other side of Taehyung’s fury because of it. He can’t say he’s never been there before, but it’s never been for such an… odd reason.
“Jeongguk!” Oh man, no nickname. Yikes. “How could you? He had his whole life ahead of him. And you laughed!” Taehyung’s eyes are watering.
Wow. He was actually going to cry.
“Tae, please. It’s not a big deal. So what?”
Taehyung gasps. Jeongguk is torn between exasperation, worry, and adoration. Tears are tracing the lines of Taehyung’s face. He’s on his knees, sniffling while he digs a grave. To bury a fly in. How does he deal with using creature and animal parts in Potions?
“Hyung.” Jeongguk pouts. Taehyung is now grimly lowering the makeshift casket, a transfigured leaf, into the grave while humming a solemn funeral march under his breath. It suits his deep voice. His really deep, really smooth, really nice voice. Jeongguk wants him to go down on him.
So maybe Jeongguk shouldn’t have laughed. But the fly crash landed, head first, onto the ground. It was funny! It was his instinct to laugh. Just like it was Taehyung’s instinct to be sad. Taehyung was just too good and pure.
Out of the corner of Jeongguk’s eye, he sees a flash of color. The sort of burst that explodes from the tip of a wand after a hex or curse. It strikes fear in him, a fear that hurts more than the Stinging hex itself.
“Hahaaa so, hyung, I’m just going to go.” He purposefully plays up his odd behavior to make it seem like he’s leaving Taehyung because of emotional constipation, walking backwards towards the spot where the bright color had come from. The older must believe it, because he just continues carefully whispering a serious eulogy.
He turns the corner. They’re there, in the shadows. It’s ironic, that he stands in the brightness of the hall, while they stand in the darkness of the enclave. They probably consider themselves heroes for this.
It started his second day at Hogwarts. Everyone recognized his family name. The Jeons were instrumental in the war. But unlike the names etched on the statues honoring fallen soldiers on school grounds, they fought in the wrong side of the war. He knew people would take offense. He knows their anger is, while unjustified, not unfounded. They lost loved ones to wizards like his parents. The Choi siblings especially take offense, and were not afraid to show it. True Gryffindors, they probably believed themselves to be. The heroes of their story, and the villain of Jeongguk’s.
He walks past confidently, forcefully bumping his shoulder against him. They sneered the usual comments as he passed by, about father, about his mother, and the things they would do to him. At first, their threats had frightened Jeongguk. But the rumors that spread like Fiendfyre and hexes that stung like bees were easy to deal with.
But just then, the Choi siblings had pointed their wands at Taehyung.
The Quidditch pitch was big and empty. Most of the players were upperclassmen, and were enjoying their Hogsmeade weekend. Especially since this weekend had conveniently fallen on Valentine’s Day. Taehyung had been giggly as he hung off of Hoseok’s arm, his hair fluffy from the wind.
It’a aggravating to think about, and Jeongguk’s fingers tighten on the cool surface of the Golden Snitch. The snitch angrily vibrates in his hand, and he releases it. Immediately, it takes off, flying further and further from him almost mockingly. But he understands. Faced with a freedom as vast and beautiful like that, anyone - or anything, he supposes - would do whatever it takes to hold on to it forever.
He accelerates on his Firebolt. Yoongi had bought it for him at Diagon Alley over the summer. It was sleek and shiny, and Jeongguk may have cried a little when Yoongi wordlessly, but oh-so carefully, handed it to him. The witch behind the counter was watching the Death Eaters’ son warily, the store was, the world was, like always. But in that moment, it didn't matter, because Yoongi was watching him proudly. You’ll get on the team for sure, Guk. Show the world how incredible a Jeon is.
The chill was seeping into his bones.
Yoongi refused to call himself a Jeon. At first, Jeongguk thought it was because he didn't want to associate himself with such a tainted name. He should've known that was stupid. Yoongi and Jeongguk had spent Christmases, Hallow’s Eves and Easters together. The softest moments, the ones blurred with laughter and joy, were as brothers. They were an odd little family, but they were happy. Jeongguk’s Eomma, so beautiful and elegant in her squishy armchair, but with the messiness of a flighty poor girl used to freedom that even years of high class couldn't erase. His father, with impossibly broad shoulders and a stiffness, covered in scars from the war and kisses from his wife. Jeongguk, the shy kid toddling after his older brother with his toy broomstick clutched in two small hands. Yoongi, long fingers itching for a piano as he indulged his baby brother.
No, his hyung was a Min because he was going to show the world what his family’s legacy truly was. Just like Jeongguk was going to do for the Jeon name.
Min Yoongi didn't do things halfway. But it still surprised Jeongguk when Yoongi asked for a secret passage to Hogsmeade. It wasn't like him to ask help, especially for someone who wasn't family. Well. Yoongi probably thought of Jimin as family already. But it was his older brother, so he handed out the information readily. Readily with a splash of gloating, because seeing his oh-so-mature hyung with flushed cheeks and a crush was cute.
The Marauders Map was in the his trunk in his trunk in the Ravenclaw Tower. At the start of the year, before he made friends, he would carry it with him everywhere. It was easier to watch out for them. It didn't always work. Jeongguk was a lot of things, but he wasn't dumb. Openly staring at the parchment was asking for a professor to confisticate it.
Taehyung was probably sitting with Hoseok at Madame Puddifoot’s. The little café was disgustingly cute, and Taehyung’s aesthetic. Jiwoo was probably enchanting snow balls to hit the romantic couples, while Somin flirted with the clerk at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes for free Skiving Snackboxes. Yoongi was probably staring at Park Jimin in awe like always, while Park Jimin stared back in awe. Yeah, they were definitely taking turns staring at each other in awe. Kim Seokjin was probably in the kitchens, lovingly trying to mix Hoseok’s muggle alcohol with firewhiskey. Namjoon was probably surrounded by an adoring crowd of underclassmen, a third trying to score a date, a third needing help with homework, and the last third wanting both. And Jeongguk, Jeongguk was alone and probably thinking too much. His friends were busy.
Wait. Not all of them.
Resolutely, Jeongguk turns his broomstick in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. Loneliness was a potion best brewed in company.
He flies to the clearing, landing easily a few yards from her. Taehyung insists that she’s a girl. He says he can feel it in his heart, that a mother always knows. Somehow, Jeongguk doesn’t doubt it. But Taehyung also insists that she would love Jeongguk, that she was his too. Jeongguk wants so desperately to believe this.
“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”
The egg is in the warm tire. Jeongguk coos in greeting like Taehyung always does, reaching one hand out, to rub at the surface comfortingly. The egg pulses and warms up imperceptibly in response. She was shy to him at first, but when she got used to his company, she blossomed and bloomed. Taehyung insisted she got that characteristic from Jeongguk.
It used to be weird. To talk to an egg. But Taehyung said that the egg needed to be interacted with like a human baby.
“I’m good, just a little. Bothered. But it’s okay.”
Last week, they enchanted the tire to a pretty blue, soft like the sky, to “defy gender stereotypes and give Baby happy thoughts”. Jeongguk strung up a bunch of pretty leaves and flowers, charmed to stay preserved, in a little baby mobile. The end effect makes Jeongguk feeling like he’s reaching into a crib when he carefully lifts the egg out of the tire.
“Yeah, it’s just us today. It’s okay, though,” Jeongguk repeats, failing to convince himself, their baby, and the world.
When he was adopted by his hyungs, Jimin and Taehyung, he slowly started leaving the Marauder's Map behind. Not because he was more safe, but because he felt more safe. It would be his downfall, most definitely, but it was a lovely way to go. They were all-consuming, like home, a delightful and familiar overload to his senses. Usually, Jeongguk doesn’t regret joining their little squad. But times when he’s alone like this, the loneliness feels more consuming, more suffocating, more empty than it had before.
He cradles the egg in his lap. They’re sharing body heat, and it feels so loving. Jeongguk stays in the Forbidden Forest until sunset chases away his muted happiness with fear. He makes his way back to the castle.
Yoongi is four years older than him. Since his first year, every holiday he would come home with stories of how amazing Hogwarts was. How the staircases stretched to eternity and how the sky filled up the Great Hall. How the walls were soaked in magic, how the statues and paintings came alive. A place that could make someone as “Conceal, Don’t Feel” as Yoongi gush.
His parents brightened as they recounted their adventures as students. Even some of the house elves had tales to spin of the magic, which Jeongguk thought was high praise coming from magical creatures. Jeongguk spent three years waiting, waiting, waiting to go to Hogwarts. Logically he knew his time wouldn't be so precious. He knew that it would be hard, to carry his family’s name and avoid Yoongi because he didn't want the world to know that Yoongi was adopted into the Jeons. The Jeons had a tainted reputation in the Wizarding World as one of the most elite families that supported the Dark Side. But he wanted so desperately to go to the place that made even his ever-elegant parents reminisce blithely like children.
Then, at his first day of Hogwarts, he was sorted into Ravenclaw.
Somin and Jiwoo clap his back when he plops down next to them. On the Hogwarts Express, Jeongguk had fled into their carriage in a hurry, trying to avoid his older brother. He promised himself that he wouldn’t allow his peers to learn about Yoongi. His hyung didn’t deserve the treatment he would receive when the school realized he was raised by Death Eaters. Somin and Jiwoo had been sitting with two older boys. They were welcoming to him, and fun, but he thought that that would be the end of their interactions. He assumed he would follow his family to the house swathed in emerald. He assumed that two Gryffindors and two Ravenclaws wouldn’t talk to a Slytherin, especially when they learned his last name, learned what his lineage had done.
No one explicitly stated that he had to be a Slytherin; it was more just assumed he would be. Jeongguk acted in a way that was traditionally Slytherin, and his family was traditionally Slytherin. Their son was ambitious, clever, and determined. But creativity, intelligence and individuality weren’t that different. His parents and hyung would probably be supportive. But Jeongguk just couldn’t be supportive of himself.
The Sorting Hat had sat on his head, silent, while Jeongguk tried not to cry. The eyes of the entire school - an entire school who heard the professor call for “Jeon Jeongguk”, an entire school who broke into scandalized whispers, an entire school who stared in contempt at the Death Eaters’ son - had felt like scorching flames. The Sorting Hat listened to his anxious thoughts, his uncontrollable distress, and somehow concluded his was a mind of wit and ability.
A Ravenclaw was strong of mind, and that was exactly what Jeongguk wasn't. His mind likes to betray him. Likes to plant seeds of doubt that bloom into something that screams like a mandrake. A distressed buzz that suffocates him, the anxiety clawing at his throat. It was uncontrollable.
It was just fear, he reminds himself.
But scared turns to scarred so easily.
A Ravenclaw’s greatest weapon was their mind. What did it say about Jeongguk, that his was so weak and pathetic?
Yoongi tells him that it's okay, it's not him. His hyung is probably craning his neck at the Slytherin table, trying to catch his eye.
The Feast was in full swing. Somin and Jiwoo were transfiguring the napkins into a more delicate and sophisticated wrapping for the food. Jiwoo nonchalantly flicks her wand at the dishes in front of her - the sausages, the pork chops, the mashed potatoes - and they disappear up to the dormitory. Somin does the same for the apple pie, rice pudding and jam doughnuts. Students, Somin said sagely, would pay galleons for this in a few weeks. The professors don’t notice.
Blue paints the Ravenclaw Table. The sapphire reminds him of all things free. The free blue of the sky, the ocean, the galaxy. It reminds him of the last day of his father’s prison sentence, when he went to Azkaban to pick up him up with his mother. The fortress was frightening, but his father was beautiful. When he saw Jeongguk and Eomma, he laughed, and laughed, and laughed, scooping them up in a tight hug. The smile stretching his cheeks looked tight, as though his dimples hadn’t worked out in a long time, but still as genuine and loving as always. Tears streamed down their faces, but for the first time in a long time, they weren’t tears of loneliness and grief. When they used Floo Powder to get back to the manor, Jeongguk had been surprised when Appa headed straight outside, instead of to his library or the kitchens. No, he headed straight to the sky. He tilted his head upwards, the sunlight casting shadows on his gaunt face. The blue sky, he said, felt like freedom.
The blue of Ravenclaw, Jeongguk hopes, will be his freedom too.
“So, Jeongguk, you’re going to the Yule Ball, right?”
Jimin is lying on the ground, sucking on his water bottle. While everyone else looks sweaty and smelly, he looks as impeccable as always, an attractive blush rising in his cheeks and his breath all puffy and cute. At least five people are gawking at him. The first time Jeongguk had seen him, he had done the same too. Park Jimin was just enchanting. And exactly like an enchantment, it wore off, until the captivating beauty relaxed into an affectionate cute. Jeongguk doesn’t know how Jimin remains oblivious to all the attention he garners; he suspects that it’s facade, because there’s always tightness to Jimin’s eyes when someone stares at his ass, or lips, unabashed. He’s petting their resident dance puppy and honorary mascot, Gureum.
“Yeah. I will, probably. Tae promised that he would stay with me.” He hadn’t wanted to go, except for the performance he was going to dance in. He’d much rather join his housemates, Somin and Jiwoo, in the Ravenclaw Common Room playing Overwatch or League, eating food stolen from the Kitchens. But Taehyung had pleaded with his eyes, and promised, pinky-promised, that he wouldn’t be alone. That he would stay with him. A promise from a Hufflepuff was like an Unbreakable Vow, so Jeongguk accepted.
“More like you’ll follow after him,” Jimin teases, his eyes bright. Gureum rubs his head against Jimin’s thigh demandingly, or maybe reprimanding. He seems to require constant cuddles.
Jeongguk, instead of responding, joins Hoseok in dancing a new girl group song. It’s perky, with cutesy hand gestures and aegyo. Aegyo that Jeongguk would never voluntarily participate in, unless it was through dance. Contradictorily, although dancing sounds like the perfect canvas for shyness to bleed all over, performing made him feel free, alive, unencumbered.
Jimin is laughing, the kind of laugh that makes everyone in the room turn to stare at him hungrily. It makes Jeongguk protective, even though he’s the dongsaeng and Park Jimin’s retaliatory hexes are legendary.
“There’s something wild about Gureum… y’know, the Fat Friar has never seen him before,” Hoseok says. He’s breathing heavily as he leans against the large mirror. The Room of Requirement was morphed to look like a dance studio, a typical one with a bar along the side and a bunch of pads. It even provided some practice clothes, expensive and pretty, with patterning that matches their houses. Technically it’s against school rules to dress outside the school uniform, but the magic of the Room was ancient and demanded respect. Or so Matthew, one of Somin and Jiwoo’s friend, insisted. Jeongguk thinks that Matthew just likes the excuse to wear bro tanks. The sunshine yellow patterns etched into Hoseok’s black t-shirt are darkened with sweat.
“He’s cute. I don’t know if he lives in here, though, since he’s not always here,” Jeongguk interjects, running his hands through Gureum’s thick fur.
“I think that he’s not a dog. He looks more like a wolf, don’t you think?” Jimin asks, staring down at Gureum intensely. Gureum is smiling, panting, showing off razor sharp canines. Jimin looks like he’s trying to intimidate him into submission, which is hilarious. He looks like an angry duckling. While he is a secret savage, Jimin looks misleadingly innocent. A true Slytherin, to hide his colors so well.
“That’s cute, Jiminie; he’s clearly not. But Hogwarts attracts some weird things, and he’s one of them. At least he’s not dangerous - unless his cuteness is magic!” Hoseok chuckles, leaning down to give Gureum a full body rub. At this, Jimin looks pale, a little upset and a little sad. He has always been an enigma to Jeongguk: speaking so lovingly about his life with his mother, but clearly shaken from something.
As if summoned by Park Jimin’s distress, Yoongi walks into the room, conveniently right at the end of practice, conveniently at just the right time to walk Jimin back to the Slytherin Tower. Jimin lights up at the sight of him, than visibly subdues himself. They’re immediately locked into each other’s orbit, talking softly about something dumb, probably. Jimin looks energized after a tiring practice and Yoongi looks energized after being tired. They always do this. At the Slytherin table during breakfast, on the grounds during lunch, in the Library during study periods. It’s grossly cute, but also longingly cute, and Jeongguk wishes that he had something special like that.
A soft hand shakes Jeongguk.
"Gukkie, get up!" An angelic voice whispers, oh-so attractively deep. Nice. Jeongguk must be dreaming of him again, of him interlacing their fingers, slowly lifting up the hem of his shirt, tilting up Jeongguk's face and...
"Muffliato! Augmenti!" The splash of water to his face makes Jeongguk splutter. It feels like ice, but perhaps that was a good thing. Cold water was what he needed at the moment.
"Mhrm? Tae?" Taehyung jerks Jeongguk out of bed, shoving robes into his hands and yanking at his arm insistently. The deep snores of his housemates meant that his muffling charm was working. It's 3AM and Jeongguk is not equipped to deal with being coherent this early in the morning. Nor is he equipped to handle Taehyung's handsome face, but that's more of an all-the-time thing.
“C’mon, c’mon, we gotta go fast, I’ll explain when we get there,” Taehyung implores, grabbing Jeongguk’s hand as soon as his robes are fixed. A low buzz strums under his veins, enough that, even though the sun still snoozes with the blanket of darkness wrapped tight, he feels awake.
They stumble down the stairs into the Common Room. Belatedly, it occurs to Jeongguk that his best friend was in Ravenclaw Tower. Whoever thought that a riddle would serve well as security was absurd. Too many times had tired, drunk or confused Ravenclaws been locked out, and clever intruders sneaking in. But then again, Kim Taehyung was a hurricane. Nothing could ever stop him, nor would anything want to. What a charming bastard.
“Hello, Jeongguk-ah,” Somin greets, while Jiwoo just jerks her head in a bro nod, her eyes not leaving the fire. They’re comparing a little jasmine-scented candle to the fireplace.
“Noona, what are you doing up so late?” Jeongguk asks, staring at the fire as well. It flickers in greeting.
“We’re experimenting with charms to use on the fire. A way to make Floo Powder untraceable. It just needs some magic, perhaps if we mix a Bubble-head charm with a Disillusionment Charm…” she trails off.
“Be careful, have fun on your date, Guk, don’t forget your… protection… spells,” Jiwoo teases, right as they exit the Ravenclaw Common Room.
Taehyung giggles as wraps his Invisibility Cloak around them, still moving with his quick gait. Still holding Jeongguk’s hand. Taehyung does this a lot, hold his hand like it’s nothing. Which it isn’t, not to Jeongguk, who has to fight a blush every time. It probably has something to do with Taehyung’s baby siblings. He tries not to think about it too much, because imagining Taehyung holding hands with two cute little kids is too much for his weak heart. Jeongguk has never met them, but Taehyung adoringly describes their antics and brattiness every single day. His Muggle family doesn’t really understand Owl mail but they always send cute pictures.
Taehyung tugs him all the way to the Forbidden Forest. It's night. He tugs off the Invisibility Cloak.
“H-hyung,” Jeongguk stutters. Taehyung hums in acknowledgement as they walk inside. The Forbidden Forest at night. Unconsciously, Jeongguk slows down and holds his hyung’s hand tighter.
Because Taehyung is clever at socializing and making people feel comfortable, he stops and lights the end of his wand. He raises one eyebrow in question, asking Jeongguk if he wants to go back. Wordlessly, because he doesn't want to embarrass Jeongguk.
“Is she okay?” Jeongguk’s fear of the shifting shadows and night sounds quickly chased away by fear for their baby.
They stop right in front of the heating tire-crib.
Sitting inside was a baby dragon.
An actual, hatched baby dragon, curled up and dozing.
Taehyung and Jeongguk’s baby.
She opens her two wide eyes, a soft brown, and mewled at them softly. Simultaneously, her parents (parents! They were parents!) fell to their knees and cooed. Her scales were an opaque green, with little hints of pink, turning a pearly white at her underbelly. She didn’t resemble any of the breeds he knew of. She released a little noise, kind of like a woof, friendly and happy. Taehyung excitedly woofed back. He picked her up slowly, gently, and held her to his chest. She nuzzled into him and released smoke over them. Jeongguk casts a series of heating charms on her shivering form.
She was beautiful.
“Tae,” Jeongguk’s voice comes out hushed, a little whisper into the night, as though he’s scared to wake up the stars.
Soonshimie turns her neck toward Jeongguk, swivelling, staring at him curiously. For a moment, Jeongguk is scared. Scared that she’ll reject him, just like so many others had. Scared that Taehyung’s reassurances that she knew him, that she would recognize his magic, she would love him were wrong.
But then she woofed at Jeongguk. And he woofed back.
“Hyung,” Jeongguk pouts. In his time at Hogwarts, he has learned a lot of things. But the most valuable lesson came from an unlikely source: Park Jimin, on how to break a hyung with aegyo. The formula was a personalized blend of pitched voice, head tilt and doe eyes. If used correctly, it can be extended to use on noonas, parents and professors. It’s at times like these Jeongguk remembers not to fuck with Park Jimin, who most definitely has the power and influence of the Minister of Magic.
“Jeongguk-ah, you have a Charms exam tomorrow,” Namjoon avoids eye contact.
“Joonie-hyung, can’t we take a break? The theory doesn't matter since I'll ace the practical - Professor said we need to impress him, and Taehyung taught me how to cast a corporeal patronus… ” It took a lot of their time, but Taehyung was an excellent teacher. Taehyung had been so shocked to see Jeongguk cast his patronus, a silvery wolf that looked familiar. Like home.
“Jeongguk….”
Jeongguk leans toward his Namjoon. Pushes out his bottom lip, makes his eyes waver like Jimin’s do. As Jimin would say, this is when you go for the kill.
“But, hyung, can I ask you about something?” This was the killer phrase, Jimin would sagely nod. The perfect trap, making you sound sweetly young, but also triggering a parental instinct to protect and inform. Mom Friend Mode activated.
Namjoon predictably softens, looking up from the cursed textbook. Literally cursed textbook, since it would enchants readers who open it at night to talk only in rhymes.
“Umm. Are dragons, safe?” Suddenly the conversation isn’t just to avoid studying the counter charm for hiccups. Jeongguk honestly was worried about Soonshimie, and although it wasn’t his intention to ask Namjoon for his input, he would roll with it.
“Well it depends who you’re referring to, but if you’re talking about your little baby, she’s safe.”
“W-what?” Jeongguk stutters, because, what? Namjoon raises an eyebrow, his dimples indented into his cheeks. Somehow, Jeongguk is no longer on the mischievous side of the conversation, and it’s very confusing. Namjoon reaches one hand absently to flick his cotton candy hair out of his glasses. Taehyung had been practicing his hair dye potions on all of them. He always picks colors that make them handsome.
“You know about Soonshimie?” Jeongguk demands.
“Of course I do. Where do you think Taehyung-ah got the egg?”
“What? Wait. What?”
“I gave Taehyung the egg, Jeongguk-ah. The egg was a gift for Tae’s birthday.”
“But, where did you even find a dragon egg?”
“My mother and I are part of the more, let’s say, the unsavory market.The Black Market, at the Hog’s Head, is our base. We specialize in the humane - but, alas, still illegal - breeding of dragons.”
“HYUNG. You’re a dragon dealer?” The incredulity stems partially from Namjoon’s dorkiness - how could someone so nerdy be a cool dragon dealer? - and partially from Jeongguk’s own stupidity. Namjoon literally was always singed and burnt. And reading about dragons. Sometimes Jeongguk forgets that he’s the Ravenclaw.
“Soonshimie is the first. Part Common Welsh Green, so she won’t grow up to be very big; a very small percentile Chinese Fireball, for intelligence; predominantly Antipodean Opaleye, for kindness; and most importantly, Swedish Short-Snout, for her fire. Dragons have never gotten along with wizards, but my parents are researching how with dragons like Soonshimie, we will be able to live symbiotically! The uses for their fire are pervasive in all magical fields!” Namjoon’s tone bled excitement, but was careful not to disturb the quietness of the Library.
“But why would you give her to Taetae-hyung?”
“Tae is perfect; he’ll raise her carefully, and I can record how his magic - and yours, since you spend time with her too - fluctuate and react with Soonshimie’s. If our hypothesis is correct, your guys’s magic should wield together, almost, so you have a vague empathy, understanding and trust.”
Namjoon is interrupted by the Head Boy, Seokjin, who slams his bag on the desk with the IDGAF attitude of an upperclassman, complaining loudly about Advanced Transfiguration. Soonshimie, now that he thought about it, could communicate with Taehyung and him in an imperceptible way. It wasn’t quite in words, just a hunch, a feeling that she wanted cuddles, or treacle tart, or just attention. Jeongguk wonders if Taehyung feels that empathy, understanding and trust to him.
The Defense Against the Dark Arts class is huddled inside an abandoned Charms classroom. The students are careful maintain a fifteen foot radius from the professor, who leans heavily against the desk at the back of the room. She’s calmly explaining how to cast the counter charm against a boggart. Jeongguk is not sure how she can maintain a steady heartbeat next to that thing.
“Recap: the boggart will take on the form of whatever you most fear. Just remember to say the counter charm while imagining a way that your biggest fear could be made funny; nothing confuses a boggart more. I’ll be here to step in if anything happens,” she explains.
“It’s the bogeyman?” A muggleborn Ravenclaw asks, both inquisitive and nervous. Some of the Gryffindors snicker, coughing out a “pussy!” at him. The professor docks five points from Gryffindor.
“Not quite. It’s easiest to see when you face one for real, so, everyone, get in line,” The professor drones.
The Gryffindors push themselves to the front, eager to prove off their courage and bring honor to their House’s name. Jeongguk is more hesitant. He saw a boggart once, a long time ago in the Manor. It had assumed the form of father’s dead body, lying on the ground, his weeping mother lying over it. Nightmares had wracked his sleep for weeks before Eomma brewed him a potion to keep the fears at bay. It’s not experience he’s eager to relive.Jeongguk wonders what his boggart will be now. He tries to think, his biggest fear, but it's overshadowed by his worry and fear.
“Okay, I’ll release it now. Remember, the incantation is Riddikulus!”
A troll emerges, swinging its bat and shrieking maniacally. A few students gasp and rear backwards in shock. The Gryffindor boy calmly lifts up his wand, and the troll’s bat abruptly turns into an ice cream cone. The boggart switches forms into a rabid werewolf, before the next Gryffindor shrinks it into a small puppy that yips cutely. It turns into a crying woman, who stares at the Gryffindor girl next in line in disappointment, who makes the woman’s face into that of a clown. It turns into a snake who becomes a rope. An octopus which becomes calamari. A swarm of butterflies into origami.
And then, it turns into Min Yoongi.
The class titters behind Jeongguk. He stands frozen.
Yoongi looks like he always does. He’s slouching, his hands stuck into his pockets, a mastery of boyish charm. His blonde hair carelessly sticks up. The green tie wrapped around his neck is loose and undone. But he’s smirking cruelly.
“What’s wrong, Guk-ah?” The nickname that’s normally colored with warm affection sounds bitter and mocking. Yoongi’s semi-corporeal eyes are locked into his own. Jeongguk’s struck by how real he looks. The detail is exact; there’s even an ink smudge on Yoongi’s right cheek, like there so often is when he spends too long with his quill writing music.
“Didn’t know that you were an idiot on top of a disappointment to the family name,” Yoongi drawls. Jeongguk shivers, even though the room is warm. He feels as though a ghost had just passed through him. Kind of cold, kind of scared. The fear is growing, as is the shame and sadness. The class has gone silent behind him.
“A Ravenclaw!” Yoongi scoffs. “A Ravenclaw who can’t even walk into a room alone without having a breakdown, isn’t that right?”
Jeongguk lifts up his right arm, his wand clutched between his fingers. It’s shaking like an erratic metronome. He tries to aim at the boggart.
“Eomma and Appa would be so ashamed. I’m disgusted… aw, are you going to cry, Jeongguk-ah? Just like always.”
Jeongguk can feel the tears building in his eyes.
He’s not going to cry in front of the class, he’s not going to cry, he’s not, not, not.
A hand touches Jeongguk’s shoulder, and he gasps, flinching away. The professor lifts up her wand and flicks it away. The boggart disappears in a wisp of smoke. She then turns toward Jeongguk in concern, asking if he’s okay.
She shoos a few Ravenclaws to go get chocolate and water. The other students are slowly acting alive again, whispering to each other.
Jeongguk can’t do anything but stare in the spot where Yoongi had stood.
Jeongguk regrets his weakness. Well, his weaknesses. They got him into this situation.
The Yule Ball was a breeding grounds for the anxiety that took sadistic pleasure in choking Jeongguk, yet he still came. Taehyung had wheedled and promised that he would stay with Jeongguk for the whole night. Taehyung was a Hufflepuff, through and through; Jeongguk never had to tell him about his distress directly, he just knew. Normally, Taehyung kept his promises, knowing the effects it would have on Jeongguk. But this didn't turn out to be a normal night.
The Great Hall was decked in its finest, just like the students were. It was the first time Jeongguk had mustered up the courage to attend a school dance. The professors had cast magic decorum that reflected Christmas, youth and magic in the perfect mix. Jeongguk thinks it's because the holidays, youth and magic are basically the same thing.
The large entrance has white hanging curtains. It's dotted with bright red poinsettia, like it’s with stained blood. Enchanted mistletoe dangles from the never ending ceiling. Ribbons wrap tightly around the pillars. The music blasts from everywhere, an odd mix of hip hop, pop and classical. The wizards and witches are decked in their finest robes, a dark swash of color that is a fine change from the black uniforms.
The evening was fine, great even, until Taehyung saw Park Jimin crying. At the sight of this, Jeongguk had reassured Taehyung it was okay, that he should go comfort Jimin. It hurt, a little, that Taehyung didn't stop to consider inviting him as well (he was Jimin’s friend, too, right? Or did Jimin secretly not like him? Did they talk about him when he wasn't there? They probably didn't even like him, just pitied the shy boy so desperate for friends - ) but Jeongguk knew he wouldn't be much help to a crying Jimin, anyway.
It wouldn’t have been a big deal, but he was alone, his best friends probably hated him, and Jeongguk couldn’t escape the Great Hall. To get to the ornate doors, he would have to make his way through the thick crowd. And he really couldn’t, not right now, so instead he steps into a small enclave. A few more songs pass. Jeongguk can still hear the excited shrieks and exclamations. He doesn’t have a plan. Just wait until past midnight, the early hours of the morning, then maybe escape. Maybe Taehyung would come back. He probably won’t care enough to, though.
Not even five minutes have passed when Yoongi pops his head in and unceremoniously plops his little butt next to him.
“Where’s Tae?” Yoongi asks. He sounds like he doesn’t care, but Jeongguk knows he’s doing it on purpose, because he knows how Jeongguk doesn’t like to make a big deal of things. He knows that Jeongguk doesn’t want to hear the concern dripping from his question, doesn’t want to feel an inescapable guilt for making Yoongi worry again.
“Jimin was… bad. Bad things, so he left with him,” Jeongguk hiccups. He’s not quite crying, just sad, the bone deep sad that presses at his soul, the kind that feels like drowning.
Part of him thinks that Yoongi will fixate on Jimin, question Jeongguk on where Jimin is and if he’s okay, like the male leads do in dramas when the love interest is hurt. But Yoongi trusts in Taehyung, knows that the younger is smart and will take care of Jimin. Yoongi also loves Jeongguk, too, and knows that Jeongguk needs it more. So instead, he flicks his wand at a torn piece of his dress robes, transfiguring it into a handkerchief, which Jeongguk accepts sniffily.
“You know, hyung always believed that Eomma and Appa loved you more than me,” Yoongi starts, abruptly.
“W-what?” Jeongguk gasps. The gasp echoes in a way that’s so extra. Emotion makes him dramatic.
“I remember when Appa brought me home.”
Jeongguk remembers too. It was the day after Appa’s prison sentence ended. During breakfast, he had announced to the table that he had important business to take care of. Jeongguk remembers giggling, thinking he was talking about taking constipation potions. But then, two hours later, he’d returned with a boy, pale and skinny. The boy was oddly apathetic, and blunt, and it scared Jeongguk, who was used to the kind comfort of his mother and fond strictness of the house elves. Jeongguk had avoided him for weeks, scared, and jealous of the attention Eomma and Appa gave the new boy.
“Hyung, what are you talking about?” It comes out watery.
“You were always special, Jeongguk-ah. Eomma and Appa were careful to take such good care of you, because they knew that the world would be cruel to you when you grew up. It never made me jealous, because I knew that you were special, too.”
Back then, it took awhile for Jeongguk to realize that Yoongi was special too. It took realizing that Yoongi was a person, with a beating heart for him to find his brother. In the middle of his avoidance, he had stumbled into the West Wing of the manor. The more ancient side that used to be inhabited by extended family, Appa had said, the ones that died in the war. The entire Wing was untouched. Whether to preserve their memory, or out of fear of curses, he’s not certain. There was a soft tune coming from the room, far and deep. When he peeked in, he saw that pale and skinny boy, so small next to the upright piano, his fingers stroking the keys. After that, Jeongguk came back everyday, to sit right outside the door and listen. Yoongi, it turned out, knew he had a visitor, and one day, he asked Jeongguk what he wanted to hear him play. Jeongguk said he wanted to hear Yoongi’s favorite song. Yoongi had played Totoro theme. It was so unexpected, so human, that Jeongguk had laughed and sat next to Yoongi on the bench everyday after that.
“I heard about your boggart, Jeongguk-ah.” The embarrassment is heightened by his already sensitive emotional state. Jeongguk keeps his face turned away. The humiliation burns at his cheeks and insides, a scorching shame that so easily gives in into self-loathing. The hatred is encompassing and no matter how hard he tries to shake it off, it feels like a leech sucking into his heart.
“You’re doing what you were meant to be. Jimin-ah and Taehyung, they love you. I love you, and I’m proud of you. You don’t need to be scared of me leaving you,” Yoongi’s voice is softer now. Less cruel. Less like the world.
“But hyung, I’m not meant to… I’m a Ravenclaw, yet my mind betrays me like this all the time. Why would they care about someone like that?”
“Jeonguk-ah, come on. We love you. Your Soonshimie, even she’s accepted you. You don’t need to pretend anymore. And your mind doesn’t betray you, it’s one of your greatest strengths. Don’t let the expectations for the Death Eaters’ son weigh you down.”
Abruptly, Jeongguk remembers that they’re still in a public place. The enclave felt cozy and safe, but there were definitely eyes on them.
“Come on, hyung will walk with you out of here.”
“...but….”
“Guk-ah,” Yoongi warns.
He doesn’t want Yoongi to be seen with him, and half because he doesn’t want to be seen. But Jeongguk yields after a bit of whining. Yoongi leads him out. Jeongguk tries to ignore the stares. The Choi siblings had been expelled a few weeks after the unicorn situation. Something about potion theft and illegal brewing; it was odd, but Jeongguk wasn’t going to look a prize horse in the eye. In the dorm, he felt confident, handsome even in his dress robes. Even more so when he met Taehyung at the bottom of the staircase, and the elder had ogled him before whispering a compliment. But it felt unnecessary now, just another thing bringing unwanted attention.
Yoongi walks him to the Ravenclaw Tower. It makes Jeongguk feel like a little kid getting dropped off, but instead of that being condescending, it’s a welcome change. A comfort to be under the care of his fearless hyung, who will never let anyone hurt him, just like he used to believe. Outside the door, he fluffs Jeongguk’s hair cooly before turning to walk away.
Jeongguk stays up late, into the early hours when the sky isn’t sure if it’s morning or night yet, just in case. But Taehyung doesn’t remember to check on him.
(Doesn’t care enough to check on him.)
Taehyung’s hair was windswept. He’s smiling, a little smile, and breathing heavily. He looks like a beacon in the night. The Astronomy Tower is lovely. It’s nighttime, but almost not; night spoke of calmness and unknowing, sprinkled with flashes of fear and dreams. Instead, Jeongguk felt a restlessness under his skin and an abstract fear looming over his shoulder. The moon above their heads softly lit up the darkness like a candle gently shooing away the shadows. The night was silent, except for the breeze whispering in their ears, whispering at Jeongguk to say something, anything, because this was the right time.
Taehyung waved at Soonshimie as she flew back to the Forbidden Forest, leaning over the edge of the walls precariously. His wave was muted by the serenity that this time always brought him. The only thing brighter than his yellow scarf was his smile.
“Hey, Gukkie.” Taehyung is still smiling at the Forest hundreds of yards away, into which Soonshimie has long since disappeared. “We’re good, right?”
He’s not proud of it, but after the Yule Ball, Jeongguk has been colder to Taehyung.
It’s not his original intention to be a jerk. But he’s just more careful, more aware of how Taehyung has seamlessly integrated into his life, and how painful it would be if - when - he inevitably decides to leave. Jeongguk can tell that his hyung is hurt by the distance, and he is too. But there’s a larger part of him that reminds him that safety protects his heart with indestructible walls.
“We’re good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, hyung.”
“Gukkie, I’m sorry I left you during the Yule Ball. I know it must have been a nightmare for you. I asked Yoongi-hyung to check on you, but I didn’t keep my promise to stay with you. I’m sorry.”
So Yoongi had come because of Taehyung. It makes sense. It makes Jeongguk’s chest hurt even more.
“It’s not your fault.”
The silence stretches. It fills up the space between them, the space between the stars, the space between the galaxies.
Suddenly, inexplicably, Jeongguk is tired. So, so, so tired. For a moment, he thinks of Soonshimie. Her bravery and fierce love is the opposite of what Jeongguk sees himself as. She loves them, and is unabashed to nudge her head to his. Jeongguk agonizes before asking Taehyung to come watch a Quidditch match with him. He thinks of how fearless she is, flying straight into clouds with a reckless abandon. She spears through the darkness like she’s trying to reach the stars. Jeongguk wants to be brave enough to reach the stars, too.
He reaches out, and take Taehyung’s hand in his. Links their fingers together. He can hear Taehyung’s breath hitch. They’re both smiling, a little bit.
“Hyung, can I… can I kiss you?”
The night stills.
“You know, for a Ravenclaw, you can be pretty not smart sometimes, Gukkie,” Taehyung snickers.
Then he barks out a laugh, then he leans closer, and they’re kissing.
And then, Jeongguk finds hope, and there, like a rose blooming next to an iris in a meadow, Jeongguk finds happiness.