Chapter Text
Jungkook
When someone knocked at Jungkook’s door exactly one month before his 13th birthday he thought it was the new videogame he bought online in that Japanese website, so imagine his disappointment when he opened the door to an extremely old woman with weird clothes holding a bulky envelope on her hands.
“May I help you?” He asked the woman. He made sure to pronounce every word correctly or else the woman wouldn’t understand him.
“Are you Jungkook Jeon?” She asked. It took him a few moments to understand she had just spoken his name, albeit wrongly.
“Yes. And who are you?” That’s rude Jungkook, even back home you don’t speak like that.
“I’m Minerva McGonagall, headmistress at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” She replied with a polite smile. Jungkook nodded, barely understanding.
Why did white people have such strange and long names?
“Ah.” It was his reply.
“Are your parents in? I’d like to speak with them.”
“Yes, just a moment. Come in.” He offered and motioned the woman inside. He wrinkled his nose when she didn’t remove her shoes, but he remained silent.
“Mum! Dad!” He called in Korean, “there’s someone at the door wishing to speak with you!”
The woman stood smiling and politely looking around as Jungkook shifted his weight from left to right.
“Yes?” His father asked, his mother closely behind. They were at the garden trying and failing to plant a few of the vegetables they ate back home. Jungkook wondered if he could help them by doing that thing he did, but he figured it was better to keep it to himself as the reason they moved all over the world was because of him in the first place.
“Let me introduce myself,” the old woman—her name was too hard for Jungkook, said in perfect Korean, “I’m Minerva McGonagall and I’m Headmistress at Hogwarts. A school for gifted children like your son.” She said all of that in Korean and the three Jeons looked between each other in astonishment. She spoke Korean with a Seoul accent that not even after years of TV Dramas Jungkook knew how to copy, his Busan accent too strong.
“Your Korean is flawless.” His father pointed the obvious.
“This is no skill to be proud of, you will understand soon enough,” she waved of as white old ladies speaking fluent Korean in the English country side was something ridiculously common. “Mr. and Mrs. Jeon, I’ve come here for your son.” His parents’ eyes shifted to him with a clear warning that they’d be extremely disappointed if he did “weird” stuff in front of others after all the trouble caused back in Korea. “Oh, no! He didn’t anything wrong!” The old woman was quick to say. “As I said, I teach at a school for gifted students. People like Mr. Jungkook here.”
“I’m not gifted” He mumbled.
“Have you never done anything you couldn’t explain? Or had something happen when you were angry or scared? Never thought ‘why weird things kept happening to me’?” She asked, her voice kind, as she understood perfectly all those things and that it was okay. As if there was nothing wrong with him.
His parents tensed beside him.
“Yes.” Jungkook replied. He thought about the day he made that boy’s ball be sent all the way to the roof just because he and his friends didn’t want Jungkook to play with them, or when he made the medicine food his mother cooked disappear because he didn’t want to eat—well, there were countless accidents. Accidents that made his family to be cast out, that made his family pick up their things and move to England because an old man told them that it was the safest place for people like him.
“You are not a freak.” She says, almost reading his mind, “You are a wizard Jungkook. You know how to do magic.”
“What?” He blurted at the same time his father snorted.
“There’s no such thing as magic and Jungkook is just a clumsy boy.”
“No such thing you say?” The grandma says and her eyes flash excitedly, like she’s about to show them something cool. She reaches inside of her pocket—Jungkook didn’t even realize there was a pocket in her dress— and took out a wood stick.
The Jeons looked warily at the object, Jungkook curious, his heart beating fast since the word magic entered the conversation.
The woman waved her stick and suddenly all the lights in the house went out, a collective gasp and the lights returned. Next was the family portrait being levitated and then the coolest thing Jungkook had seen in his almost 13 years of life: the woman’s body shifted until in front of them was a tabby cat, Jungkook could swear he could see the engravings of her glasses on the cat’s face. In a blink, she was back to her human form, the cat gone.
“How?” Jungkook asked, eyes wide.
“Hogwarts.” She explains with a smile. As if that word was the answer to everything Jungkook ever asked about himself.
He figures it probably was. “Hogwarts is a school. The best there is in the world for people like you. We teach young kids like yourself how to properly do magic, how to control your powers and many other things.”
“How did you find him?” His mother asks, there’s a little bit of fear in her voice.
“Every young witch or wizard carry a trace, so we can keep a watch on them while they aren’t of age to attend school. That’s how we know how to send their acceptance letters.”
“There were people after him in Korea. Not nice people. How do we know you are not one of them?” His mother asked, Jungkook figures she has a point, but ever since he saw the woman becoming a cat, the only thing running through his head was: there’s more like him. He can have friends. He can learn.
“The magical community in Korea is really small. Because most of the magical folk were killed during the Japanese occupation, something about different beliefs of where the magic came from.” She shrugged it off, “Most of the Korean magical families left Korea and settled in the UK or in other parts of the world, because the Japanese school of magic doesn’t accept Korean kids. If your family hadn’t moved out, Jungkook’s abilities wouldn’t be discovered and he’d live a life in pain. Not physical pain, but emotionally. Because we are one with our magic, when we don’t use them, our body suffers. It’s very rare for a Korean muggleborn— that’s what we call when one doesn’t have magical parents, to receive education. Whoever told you to move to England knew about Jungkook and wanted him to have the opportunity to study.”
McGonagall explains more, she tells them about Hogwarts, about what he can learn, how many years there is of education. She tells him about the opportunities he can have in the Magical World after graduation.
His mother left the living room Hal an hour in to grab a few biscuits and tea for them.
“So—" his father starts after what feels like hours of explanations and Jungkook holds his breath. He wants to go. He wants to go so badly. “If Jungkook attends this school he will be able to control his— magic? He will meet people like him? Will you be his teacher?”
“Yes. There’s even a group of other Korean students there—" She pauses, a flash of exasperation in her features, “some of them are incredible students, they will be more than willing to help you.” She finishes, looking at Jungkook.
“What do I need to go?” He asks, a hint of desperation in his tone. He’s so tired of feeling like a freak. He just wants to belong somewhere.
The old woman— he needs to learn her name, smiles at him and hands him the bulky envelope, “The Hogwarts letter usually arrive on the day of the wizard’s or witch’s 13th birthday. But because yours is on the same day as the term begins, I came today so you wouldn’t lose the year. In there, there’s a list of school supplies and where to get them, as well as your ticket for the Hogwarts Express. The train leaves at 11am sharp on September 1st.” Jungkook opens the envelope and reads his letter, his eyes water at his name on the back: Jungkook Jeon, first room on the second floor.
His mother is reading the addresses on the piece of paper, “is all of this in London?” She asks.
“Yes.” His future professor replies. “Because it’s your first time and you are Muggles, I can accompany you to Diagon Alley—the place to buy magical supplies.”
“Now?” His mother asks, “we don’t—”
“Please?” Jungkook asks, he thinks if this woman leaves their house without giving him more glimpses of magic, by the end of the day he will think everything was a feverish dream.
“How can we possibly get to London now? It takes a 3hr train—" His father is cut off by McGonagall.
“I have a faster way to get there. I had it arranged earlier on. I hope you don’t mind.”
“What?” Jungkook asks, is it brooms? Do wizards really travel on brooms?
McGonagall moves to their untouched fireplace, since they moved, they didn’t put it to use.
“One of the many ways of transportation in the Wizarding World is through the Floo. In other words, via Fireplaces. With the use of a special powder, you just need step inside the fireplace and say the name of the place you want to go.”
With a click flick of her stick, the grate of the fireplace is removed, and the firebox is enlarged so they can fit inside.
Jungkook loves magic. He can’t wait to be able to do all these stuffs as well. He can’t take his eyes of the witch in front of him, he’s jittery just imagining what there’s more.
“Repeat after me, Diagon Alley.”
“Diagon Alley.” The three of them say.
“There’s no need to be nervous, the fire won't touch you. We will go all together. Do you have anything you need?”
“How do we pay for these things?” His father asks, “I don’t suppose you use normal money?”
“No. But you can exchange money at our bank, the same way you did when you arrived in England.”
“I will get my purse.” His mother mutters and Jungkook scurries to grab the money he has on his piggy.
When they are all ready, they get inside the cramped space of the fireplace, Jungkook is nervous and the grip his mother has on his arm is sure to leave marks.
“Take hold of the powder and on the count of three, say Diagon Alley and drop it to the logs.”
The Jeons nod and his ears are ringing with excitement by the time the words Diagon Alley leave his mouth.
It’s nothing like Jungkook has seen before. His few trips to Hongdae during the weekends are nothing compared to what he’s seeing. There’s weirdly dressed people everywhere, kids running and laughing, bats hanging from stores, crooked and twisted buildings, there are brooms parked in front of all the stores, there’s a three-store purple and orange store at the end of the street with a huge man’s face on it, the man’s arm moves and he removes his hat to show a rabbit inside, there’s a store called Eeylops Owl Emporium with different owls sleeping on the windowsill.
“Welcome to Diagon Alley.” McGonagall says, her voice happy, she’s not looking at the place, but at them. As if there’s nothing more interesting than their expressions.
“It’s—” His mother starts, but her words get stuck. Jungkook understands the feeling. He himself is in a repeat of opening and closing his mouth in awe.
“Yeah.” His father agrees.
“That building at the end of the street is Gringotts. The wizard’s bank. Let’s open an account for Jungkook first, exchange the money and you can go shopping.
They start walking but soon his mother realizes she needs to grab a hold of Jungkook’s sleeve, because he keeps stopping at every window.
Jungkook thinks he can live in this place.
At the bank, his eyes widen even more, because in front of them are small ugly creatures with pointy noses and even pointier ears.
“What are them?” He whispers.
“Goblins. Don’t stare too much, they don’t like it. They are in charge of the money.” He nods and tries to keep his eyes to himself.
He fails. He looks at the building instead.
“Good morning.” McGonagall says, “I’m here with young Mr. Jungkook Jeon, he’d like to open his Gringotts account and exchange muggle money.” She says in English.
The goblin raises from his seat and looks down to him. The thing stares at him.
“Muggleborn?” The goblin asks Jungkook.
The boy nods.
He is shocked at how his parents are not needed for anything, in fact the Goblin doesn’t even acknowledge them. He keeps making questions to Jungkook and Jungkook only. Faster than he thought, he is signing his name and handing the money his parents gave him to the Goblin. Long fingers push a dozen of golden coins and a few others in his direction.
“Seventeen Sickles to a Galleon, twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle. It’s pretty simple.” McGonagall explains.
“And how much in our currency?” Jungkook asks, it probably is high since all of that money only got them coins.
“One Galleon is Five Pounds.” The Goblin replies.
It’s not that bad he thinks. Unless things in the Wizarding World are crazily expensive.
On their walk back to the main entrance, McGonagall points them to the stores they need to go to buy his supplies and they part ways.
It’s not easy walking around Diagon Alley, even more so when you don’t know what half of the stuff even mean.
“This looks interesting,” his mother points to one of the books, “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. What kind of magical creatures might exist?”
He smiles toothily at his mother, his dimples popping out.
Animals! Maybe there are dragons? Like real fire breathing dragons! Are mermaids real as well?
“Mum, maybe those folklore animals are not folklore but just magical animals!” He exclaims, and she pats his hair and nods.
His father has been weirdly quiet during this whole ordeal.
When they enter the bookstore for the books, Jungkook’s eyes widen again, there are so many! The books are stacking themselves or leaving their shelfs and going to the cashier.
“I think it’s better to ask for help.” His father mutters, eyes wide as Jungkook’s.
Asking for help was one of their best decisions so far, because one of the staff simply ‘Summoned’ his books and he watched transfixed as they flew one by one onto her hands.
“This one is a masterpiece!” The girl explains, “it’s Hermione Granger’s all-time favorite!” she says excitedly, as the name Hermione Granger was supposed to mean something to him.
They stack his books on the recently acquired trunk, besides his cauldron, his phials and brass scales. His father is carrying his telescope.
“The only thing left now is your wand.” His mother says and her excitement is doubled in Jungkook’s eyes.
They walk to the store with the sign Ollivander and his parents tell him they are going to wait for him on the ice cream parlor.
“Welcome, welcome” a really, really old man greets him from behind his desk.
“Hi” Jungkook says, suddenly shy and afraid the man will die in front of him and he won’t have his wand. He shakes his head from that awful thought and introduces himself, “I’m Jungkook.”
“Oh yes.” The fossil replies. Jungkook is so damn rude, his mother would be mortified.
“Muggleborn?”
“Yes.”
“Quite rare these days, Koreans Muggleborns”
“That’s what I keep hearing.”
“Quite the massacre those Japanese wizards did. It’s a shame what people do when they don’t understand power.”
“I guess.” he shrugs.
“Japanese samurais have been trying to take over Korea for as long as time exists, there was one in particular that was quite obsessed with Korea, Tokugawa Ieyasu. It was rumored he was a wizard himself and he hired 80 trained ninjas—that’s what they called the wizards in Japan, to help him with his cause.”
“But why Korea?”
“Something about the source of their magic.” Ollivander doesn’t elaborate and Jungkook accepts he will need to find out what that means by himself.
He flicks his wand to a measuring tape and the thing flies to Jungkook’s direction. By itself the tape measures his arm length, his hand, his height, the size of his shoe and his wrist.
Ollivander takes a few notes and hums to himself, after a moment he sighs contently and walks towards one of the aisles and Jungkook waits. When the man returns, he’s carrying a dozen of rectangular boxes.
“Do you need some help?” he asks, seeing the frail man struggling.
“There’s no need dear boy.” Ollivander chuckles, “I brought all the wands I have that are made of Gumiho’s tail—”
“The nine-tailed fox?” Jungkook asks.
“Yes. The creature is so popular that even appeared in Muggle folklore,” he chuckles again, “Magical folks from Asian countries seems to favor wands with a Gumiho’s core. Something about the source of their power—” there he goes again. “Of course, some completely different wand might favor you, but I’ve been selling wands for years my boy and I think one of these may be yours.”
“Mine?”
“The wand chooses the wizard Mr. Jeon. The wand answer to its wizard and its wizard only. You are parts of the same core. So, come one, try one.” He motions, offers him to choose one.
He looks at the wands in front of him, some are longer than others, as some are straighter than others.
He decides to not think much about it, picks the third one and nothing happens. Ollivander sighs, “try another” he urges.
Nothing happens with the next two, until he picks the first on line, a medium-sized wand, dark wood wand. The moment his fingertips touch the wand, he feels his entire body vibrating, as if all the magic inside of him is dancing. He lets out a little laugh, happy beyond anything else and flickers of gold leave the tip of the wands.
“Oh yes, Black Walnut, 12 inches and quite flexible. They are extremely sensitive wands, highly attuned to their owners’ emotions. They are one of the most loyal wands when paired with a sincere owner, excellent for any kind of spell work. I’m certain you will do great with it.”
“Thank you.” He says honestly.
“Don’t thank me boy.” He smiles, “You will find your friends in the ones who carry the same core as you.”
Jungkook nods and after another huge dimpled smile, pays the wandmaker and goes to meet his parents.
He all but skips towards the ice cream parlor, eager to show them his wand.
“Mum! Dad!” He calls and they turn around, “Look!” He waves his wand and his parents chuckle at his eagerness.
“Jungkook.” His father calls once he sat, “I’ve been talking with your mother while waiting for you. I guess with all of this, much of our life makes more sense now, so nothing’s fairer than to tell you what we know.” His father starts, his mother puts a hand on top of her husband’s. “When we first left Busan, you were too young to completely understand, we weren’t simply moving or trying to keep you hidden from shady people. Your magic, now we know what to call it, kept attracting people, we still don’t know how, but a simple walk around the neighborhood would have at least two old people coming over and asking questions about you. You could make flowers grow and small animals heal.” His father says, Jungkook doesn’t remember any of it.
“When the cat the entire village saw getting run over by a car appeared walking and completely fine a few days later, news travelled faster. You were five when the first hooded man appeared. We escaped because somehow you sent a swarm of bees in his direction.”
“That’s why you don’t let me near hives?” He asked.
“Yes. We didn’t understand. We were scared.” His mother says.
“We kept moving, more kept appearing, as soon as your magic manifested in some way, they’d appear. You were almost always inside the house by then. But all it always took was a small thing, as if they could smell it—”
“The dogs could.” His mother says and her entire body shudders. “After a while we realized that first came the dogs, then the hooded men.”
Jungkook runs a finger to the small scar in his cheek, he remembers being attacked by a dog when he was 10. He still doesn’t understand much, he hopes all the books he bought can help him with this whole thing. But a few things are clearer now, how it didn’t matter where they went in Korea, people soon found him, the same weird creepy fellows.
“We had travelled all the way north by the time you were eleven. It was in Seoul when we met the man who told us to come here. He told us that in Korea we wouldn’t be able to stop running, that people would keep coming, that what you were, instilled fear in people. He told us we could find a safe place for you here because those people couldn’t follow you here.”
“Do you think he was a wizard?” He asks.
“He must have been. There’s no other way for him to have known.”
“I can find out who were those people after me. McGonagall said there are a few Koreans like me there. They must have the answers.”
“Just promise me you won’t go looking for trouble.” His father asks. “You have the chance to truly live as yourself now, to stop running, to understand what you are and what you have. Please let it be enough.”
“I promise.” He says and he’s honest, “I never liked running anyways. But flying—” He cracks a smile, “flying seems fucking ace.”
“Swearing in English is still swearing Jungkook.” His mother says sternly.
He doesn’t find in him to be sorry. His mother just sighs while his father gives a slow chuckle.
“Your mother and I decided to gift you a pet, someone to have with you while you are there.”
“Thank you!” He says, “I know this must be a lot for you two too. I’m very thankful for you accepting all of this.”
“We always knew there was something different about you. We spent the past twelve years trying to understand it and keeping you safe. Now we know, there’s no reason for us to keep this from you.”
“Thank you.” He says again.
The pet store was across from the Ice Cream store, the Magical Menagerie was a cramped store, every inch filled with cages of different animals. He saw cats, toads, crabs, rats and many he didn’t recognize.
“Don’t get any ideas.” His father warned. “You can choose a cat. Those you know how to take care of.” He said while eyeing a round pastel pink furry creature that was staring at them with its huge circular eyes.
“Look!” He points to a tabby cat in one of the cages, “This one looks like Headmistress McGonagall!”
The clerk laughed at that and he whipped his head around to the sound.
“I don’t understand Korean but I heard our Esteemed Headmistress name so I figured you have seen her Animagi form.”
“Her what?” He asks in english.
“Animagi. It’s the name of the people who can change into animals. She likes to come to my store in cat form to sneak at me.” He laughs to himself, “Came here to pick a cat?”
Jungkook nods. “Do you have any suggestion?”
The clerk points to the corner where a few Siamese cats are sleeping, “They are one of the most attractive cats, we just received a few more.”
Jungkook looks at the animals, there is a really small one looking at him with its head tilted to the side, it has striking blue eyes and an expression that is almost human.
“Oh! This small thing arrived two days ago but hadn’t show any interest until now. It seems to have liked you.”
Said creature was now walking towards him on the cage and offered a small paw. “Hello tiny thing.” He coos, “Do you want to be mates?” He asks, and the cat offers his paw again.
“I think it’s decided then.” His mother laughs and he opens the cage, the small cat instantly jumps on his chest, cozying itself on his arms when Jungkook holds him.
“It’s 9 Galleons.” The clerk says. “It’s very interesting though, many people showed interest in that cat, but he refused to leave the cage and hissed when I tried to force it. I think you are going to be good friends.”
They leave the store with the cat still on Jungkook’s arm, the cage empty on his other hand, his father is now carrying his trunk and telescope and his mother carrying the bags with his vests.
Yoongi
Laying down on the Kim’s garden was one of Yoongi’s favorite pastimes. It reminded him of home. Give it to the Kim’s to make the back garden of a mansion in the English countryside smell like Daegu.
Every time Taehyung mentioned his family were farmers, he needed to keep himself from snorting.
Taehyung, a farmer. The fanciest boy in the entirety of Hogwarts, a farmer. As if.
Not that he actually talked that much with Taehyung to begin with, but his parents were best friends, neighbors of some sort if Taehyung’s tale of a farm is true.
He misses life in Korea, not that he remembers much of it, having left there when he was five and the Second Wizard War had just finished in the UK, but he supposes it was calmer, with them being the only wizards there – besides the Kims of course.
His parents attended Hogwarts and wanted him to go as well. He didn't have that much of a choice, because Mahoutokoro doesn’t accept Koreans – which is bullshit it you ask Yoongi’s opinion, and the Americans have crazy Secrecy laws and his parents are more like the free kind of style – and boy, Yoongi is grateful for that, because otherwise who would accept Yoongi’s gay wizard ass and be okay with the end of generations of Magical blood?
“Hyung, we don’t grow assholes here, there’s no need to plant your skinny ass on my grass.” Yoongi groans, Taehyung’s voice announcing the end of his peace.
“I will throw a Quaffle in your mouth during one of the games this year and it will teach you to keep your mouth shut.”
“That’s why Slytherin keeps losing games, you are supposed to throw the Quaffle inside the goal. Well, not that you can get past your boyfriend on the goal anyway.”
“Go away.”
“My house Hyung.” Taehyung states the obvious.
“I will be Prefect this year. You just wait Taehyung.” He gets up from his place on the floor, dusts off his clothes and before going inside the Manor messes up Taehyung hair, “annoying brat.” He mutters.
Taehyung barks a laugh behind him and follows him inside.
Their family have this tradition of having brunch together on the day the Hogwarts Letter arrive to share stories about their time at school – when they started school at eleven, not thirteen as it was now.
His father was Prefect on his day along with Narcissa Malfoy, which he likes to keep retelling much to his mother annoyance, because stories say Narcissa was a great beauty on Hogwarts. Yoongi has been dreaming of having the Prefect Pin since his first year.
He can’t wait to be a Prefect with Hobi and patrol together and decide which detention to give to each of their troublemaking housemates. Taking points from Taehyung will be a blessed experience.
Their parents are sat in the waiting room and the Elves are finishing setting the table. There are more seats than usually. “Are we waiting for someone?” He asks his mother, she’s talking with Taehyung’s mum.
“Yes, the Parks are coming today as well.” She says with a smile, as if she’s oblivious with how much Yoongi suffers with Jimin back at school. Yoongi remembers she is in fact oblivious.
“Cool.” He replies and makes the mistake of looking at Taehyung who is smiling that boxed smile of his.
“Did you miss us hyungie?” He asks and Yoongi rolls his eyes.
“I missed Jiminie.” He shrugs, “I just hoped to not have to deal with the two of you before the school term.”
When the Parks arrives, Jimin is all polite smiles and bowing. Taehyung is cackling besides him, finding everything extremely hilarious. Jimin is blond this year, which Yoongi guesses it suits him better than the chocolate hair he had last year. He looks angelic, which is a far cry from reality.
“Hello Hyung.” Jimin greets and blushes, Yoongi smiles at him and pats his golden locks.
“Looking pretty.” He greets and Jimin's blush grow.
“I will tell your boyfriend.” Taehyung sing-songs and Jimin elbows Taehyung’s stomach. Yoongi smirks at Jimin in approval and he receives a matching smirk.
“Have you been practicing this holiday?” He asks Jimin, “We need to catch the snitch fast if we want to win.”
“I’ve been!” He replies, “Taehyung has been practicing with me, throwing golf balls for me to catch.”
“Nice.” He grins.
Their parents are all seated, he has his mother on his left and Jimin on his right, in front of him it’s Mrs. Park.
The conversation is light, their parents say how they prefer the schooling nowadays, because being prefect was too much of a responsibility to bear when you are fifteen, but at seventeen is much better because it teaches you how to be mature when you are of age to use magic outside the school.
Mrs. Park jokes that no seventeen-year-old knows what career they want to follow and giving the students the opportunity to internship in the last two years is much more intelligent than having to decide at sixteen without any previous experience.
“See Taehyung as an example,” Mr. Kim starts and Yoongi is not sure at what exactly Taehyung can be an example, “if it was on our time, at his age he’d have to start his preparations for the O.W.Ls, making study plans and deciding which subjects to keep and which to drop. He has no maturity for such task now.”
Oh yes. Taehyung is the best example for immaturity. You are perfectly right Mr. Kim.
“But our Yoongi—" His mother uses uri Yoongi in Korean and he cringes at the snickering besides him, “at seventeen he’s totally capable of enduring all the hours it is required for the O.W.Ls as well as to decide wisely which internships to take, all of this alongside his duties as the Quidditch captain and Prefect. Imagine all of this on a fifteen-year-old? The amount of pressure on a child!”
Yoongi nods proudly at his mother’s praise and Taehyung fakes pukes besides Jimin, Jimin gives Taehyung’s stomach another encounter with his elbow.
“So, Yoongi, do you already have any idea about what you will choose next year?” Mr. Park asks.
“Not exactly. I talked with Professor Slughorn before the year ended about a career in Potions mastery and I also had a long conversation with Madam Pomfrey about healing, I guess I will choose one of them.”
“Both are very good choices.” Mr. Park nods, “There are many opportunities in both fields.”
“And what about Hoseokie?” His mother asks, “Last year he missed one of his exams because of Quidditch tryouts, is he still trying to become a Quidditch Player?” She asks him, the judgment clear on her tone.
Yoongi tenses at that, the topic of Hobi’s choice of career is one that lately has been bringing tension in their relationship. More so since he recklessly skipped the Transfiguration Exam to tryout at Montrose Magpies and simply couldn’t care less when McGonagall didn’t let him sit for it again after Yoongi’s endless requests to the professor.
“Yes,” he replies, trying to keep his tone light. “He was supposed to come over during the summer, but he wrote something about a summer-long experience on some team.” He says, extremely vague. Hobi had been extremely fishy about it on the letter, didn’t mention the name of the team because it was a one-time-only opportunity, and no one could know— as if Yoongi would tell anyone about it.
“The Quidditch must be playing out for him then, huh?” Mrs. Kim asks.
“I guess.” He replies, shrugging.
Taehyung bless him —not that anyone needs to know, changes the subject so the attention is back at himself.
“I want to study animals.”
“You and every Hufflepuff.” Taehyung’s mother says with a laugh, “it’s that giant portrait of Newt in your common room, giving you ideas.”
“But it’s so cool!” He exclaims and Yoongi smiles at him.
Of all Taehyung’s flaws, his enthusiasm and eccentricity certainly weren’t part of them. The younger boy never failed to surprise him.
That’s probably why no one could hate him no matter how terrible the kid was at school. Because despite his knack for trouble, he was a great student, with great grades and with every single teacher wrapped around his finger.
He did make into the Quidditch team on his first year because he pouted at Hobi until Hobi let him tryout.
Not that Yoongi was much different when it was about Jimin’s pout. And Taehyung is a way better Seeker than Jimin.
Hobi says he uses Jimin on his team to have the players distracted with the boy’s smile and his Veela magic—magic they don’t even know if he has. As story goes, when Jimin’s grandfather left Korea and went to study in Durmstrang he married a Veela, thus making his mother a Half-Veela and him a Quarter-Veela.
Besides the pout, Yoongi doesn’t think the boy has much Veela magic, Hobi can save his opinion to himself and deal with his Seeker, the one who spends more time doing detention than actually playing.
The owls arrive by the time the food is gone. Along with three Hogwarts owls, Yoongi recognizes Hobi’s and a smile appears on his face. At least he wrote.
Their parents are excited, a new year has come. For Yoongi, it’s O.W.Ls year; for Jimin and Taehyung, it’s their second year, they get to explore Hogsmeade.
Yoongi is quick to open his Hogwarts letter, he quickly scans through the list of supplies for this year and gives it to his parents, so they can see as well. When he opens the second parchment the green and silver pin falls to his lap, he beams at it.
There it is. The Prefect Badge.
“Dear Mr. Min.” He reads loudly, his mother gives a little squeal. “We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected to serve as Prefect for Slytherin House. Your school record shows that you have exhibited great academic interest and astonishing ability regarding quick-thinking in stressful situations—”
“Now I deserve a thanks.” Taehyung jokes.
“--And as seen in your ability to lead others in Quidditch make us believe you will continue to be a model for your peers and will take your new responsibilities seriously.” He reads proudly, beside him Jimin is just as excited, “Enclosed please find your Prefects Badge, which should be worn on your school robes at all times. Congratulations!”
The adults cheer and Taehyung wolf-whistles and he smiles to all of them. Jimin reaches the pin on over Yoongi's lap and is quick to pin the badge on his white shirt.
“Nicely done cap.” He says with a small and he grins to the boy.
They are still congratulating him, and he can hear Mr. Kim trying to put some sense into Taehyung’s head but he zones them out in order to read Hobi’s letter. It has been two weeks since he last heard from his boyfriend.
‘Hey Hyung’ he reads. ‘You are probably going to hate me for this, but I figured it was better to write this now instead of telling you on the castle. I didn’t want to feel like lying to you on the ride back. And maybe I’m a coward too’ Yoongi’s brows furrow in confusion at this, ‘I think it’s better for us to follow our different paths now, separately.’ His heart seizes, and his breath gets stuck on his throat. ‘We always had different goals in life and since last year our differences have been growing and becoming a big part of our relationship.’ no no no no ‘We are both stupidly stubborn and I don’t want any of us losing pieces of ourselves just so we can meet in the middle.’ Fuck you Hoseok, ‘I never understood your incessant love for reading and knowledge or your devotion to your family, to every part that makes you, just like you never understood my passion for the skies or for the game. For you has always been just a hobby; for me, the moment I slip my gloves on and have the three goals on my back is when I’m finally free. I’ve always wanted to be free.’ Yoongi knew. He always knew, that’s why he decided to start playing, just so he could see Hobi from the air, see what he always saw and see it up close how beautiful he was when up in a broom. ‘This thing I had this summer, it wasn’t in a League team, no. It was the National League. The British League.’ He gasps, his chest heaving, he just realized he had been holding his breath until now. He vaguely notices Jimin watching him in his peripheral vision, he is scared that if he removes his eyes from the letter he will cry. ‘I aced my tryouts at the Magpies, they wanted me on the spot. That’s why I half assed my exams and I know how much that pissed you off. I’ve been training with them since we came back from Hogwarts. One of their players is in the NT, he introduced me to the coach, he saw me play, I’m in Uganda now, of course I’m not playing, but they wanted to talk to me, to get to know me better, we will probably have finished signing contracts by the time this letter reaches you. I know this is a lot.’ Yoongi snorts, no shit Sherlock. ‘But this is all I ever wanted’ and about what I wanted? ‘I gave up on my Korean nationality to play, this is how sure I am of this decision. I want this feeling for you too. To be so sure of something that by just looking at it you know with every fiber of your being and you can say yeah, this is what I’ve been looking for. And it’s not with me Hyung. We’ve always been better friends than we were boyfriends.’ The lump on his throat gets bigger by each line he reads and since he has to read each at least twice because of his blurred vision, he feels like suffocating. ‘I want us to finish this and have our friendship intact.’ Yoongi snorts at that and it’s like the floods are open, he half cries, half laughs and it hurts so much that he doesn’t care every pair of eyes are on him. ‘I’m finishing Hogwarts at least,’ Yoongi hates how he can hear Hobi’s derisive laugh in this sentence, ‘because I know you would flip if I dropped out and I want to salvage our friendship. Or at least try to. I hope you forgive me Hyung, I really do. I love you, but I guess I don’t love you enough and you don’t deserve someone who doesn’t have you as their first choice. When I think back on our relationship, the best memories I have is of when we were best mates. I’m sorry. I was holding you back and I hate that I was the one to keep you from being your best version. I’m really sorry Hyung.’
He stares at the letter until the words don’t make sense anymore and the letters, the stupid English letters-- he didn’t have the decency to write the letter in Korean, are a jumble of ink.
Hobi broke up with him. Over a letter. In fucking English.
Hobi gave up on Korea, giving Yoongi up was easy.
He wants to punch Hobi’s beautiful face.
A sob escapes his lips and his shoulders shake.
“Hyung.” Jimin calls, Yoongi shakes his hand out of his shoulder and the boy jumps.
“If you excuse me, I will see myself out.” He says, he doesn’t care it’s rude to leave the table before the adults, he doesn’t care about any Korean etiquette right now—Hobi gave all of that up, his mind supplies bitterly, and another sob threatens to escape.
This time he is quick to get up from the chair and out of the room before he can embarrass himself any further.