Chapter Text
“Remind me again why I agreed to this?” Jongdae grumbles, as he fumbles with the cuffs of his rarely-used (and for good reason) dress shirt. He isn’t entirely satisfied with his shirt, much less with the entire situation he’s in right now but complaining isn’t going to help. Him whining right now is just out of habit.
It isn’t going to change the fact that Jongdae’s forced to spend an evening at some gathering where Hogwarts’ supposed elite students are congregating. If Jongdae takes off the spectrespecs clouding Junmyeon’s vision, the gathering is simply just an excuse for the exclusive, overwhelmingly pureblood section of the school to cosy up to or one up each other. Whichever they're in the mood for.
Something Jongdae does NOT want to be part of, thank you very much. And yet-
“Because you’re such a kind and beloved cousin?” Junmyeon tries, his cheeks shining in earnest.
“Try again,” Jongdae deadpans, rolling his eyes at his cousin’s blatant attempt at flattery.
“Because...because…” Junmyeon falters, picking at a loose thread of his ghastly pink knitted sweater vest that somehow manages to accentuate his fair complexion.
Jongdae quirks an eyebrow, daring Junmyeon to pull another bluff. “Because?”
Junmyeon sighs and his shoulders slump along, defeated. “Because Yifan isn’t here to be my usual plus-one and Minseok-hyung never ever wants to be in the same breathing space as Han outside the Quidditch pitch. And I have no better option as a plus-one to this party but you.”
Yifan has been away for weeks on emergency leave. The sixth-year Slytherin had to apparate not to his hometown, but to a hospital, at the bedside of one of his relatives, who had been hit with a particularly nasty hex during his curse-breaking duties at the Gobi Desert. The rest of the Wu clan had to stay on task with breaking the ancient magical incantations at the Mongolian temple. Thus, leaving Yifan to settle the paperwork of his relative’s long term stay at an undisclosed hospital at the border of Northern China.
It has always bewildered Jongdae how much adult responsibility Yifan has been entrusted with by his family, and Yifan has frequently stated how he sees completing his education and collecting his N.E.W.T.s as an unnecessary formality, that he doesn’t need academic qualifications to join his family. (But of course, everyone knows that Yifan is simply hanging on to every excuse to prolong his time with Junmyeon here at Hogwarts. Despite his hardened exterior, Yifan’s devotion towards the fifth-year Hufflepuff was undeniable.)
And on the subject of Minseok, the sixth-year Ravenclaw is dreadful at making small talk. Furthermore, he absolutely hates talking about himself, leaving his mother to be the one trumpeting all of the oldest Kim son's achievements. When it comes to entertaining guests, Minseok usually leaves all the pleasantries to Junmyeon, his younger brother. Which is why he decides not to talk at all, most of the time. Plus, the ever-smarmy Lu Han, Captain of the Gryffindor team, would be there. That is enough of a reason for Minseok not to attend the party. Minseok would have such a horrible time at the party, no questions about it.
Both Junmyeon and Jongdae don’t even consider Jongin, the youngest out of their Kim quartet. Jongin would probably be dressed in his comfortable flannel pyjama set right now, the one with the cheery bear print that Jongdae had given his baby brother for laughs for his 13th birthday.
“Nobody but me, huh?” Jongdae says drily, as he rolls his shoulders, getting accustomed to the starchiness of his dress shirt.
“Nobody, nobody but you,” Junmyeon attempts to lighten the atmosphere with his usual inane sense of humour. And it works; begrudgingly, Jongdae’s lips instinctively pull into a smile.
“Oh please, please, Jongdae! I’m only asking this of you just this once.” Junmyeon resorts to pouting.
Jongdae can only sigh in response. Both of them know that these occasional gatherings are just a means of formality, more than anything. But hasn’t Junmyeon had enough of those that they already attend back home?
The grandfather clock in the Hufflepuff common room strikes eight, signifying that the party’s attendees would start gracing the dedicated empty classroom with their arrival. Jongdae decides that his main objective this evening is to familiarise himself with the hors d'oeuvres.
“Well,” Junmyeon starts, turning to Jongdae with soft eyes and an endearing smile. “That’s our cue to go.”
Flattening the flyaway strands of his freshly-cut fringe, Jongdae gives a little shake of his squared shoulders and nods.
“Let’s go.”
-
"Remind me again why I'm going to the party tonight?" Yixing mutters, as he allows himself to be led - nay, dragged - by Han.
"Because," Han supplies easily, tightening his grip on Yixing's forearm as the pair make their way across the empty courtyard.
A Ravenclaw prefect making their evening rounds stops mid step as he spots the duo, about to question their actions. However, his eyes quickly glimmer in comprehension as he recognises both of them. Instead, he waves them along amiably, probably having seen other party attendees making their way to the event. Han waves happily with his free hand while Yixing acknowledges him with a slight tilt of his head.
Turning back to Han, Yixing raises an expectant eyebrow. "Because…?" He parrots.
"'Because' is enough of a reason, don't you think?" Han shrugs, as if that explains everything.
"No," Yixing mutters flatly.
Yixing sighs. Just because he's born into old money, it doesn't mean that he's comfortable with it. Sure, back in his hometown, he can tolerate visits from noteworthy families on the Zhang estate. But to think he has to attend parties right here in school where the attendees are only interested in networking?
He yelps when Han suddenly jerks on his elbow, forcing him to take a hard right to a well-lit corridor. Yixing almost trips over his leather shoes, his clumsy footwork hastily paddling in step with Han’s confident strides.
Yixing would rather be in his greenhouse, looking through the notes that he's worked over the years to compile. Surrounded by his plants, where nobody would judge him. Where nobody would bother him. It’s tiring to keep up appearances all the time.
"How do I look?" Han prompts, as he coolly runs a hand through his already-mussed up fringe. Yixing wonders how he tolerates the Gryffindor sixth-year on a daily basis. Han has the growing attachment of a sturdy moss.
"You look the same as always." Yixing deigns a response, after a pause. “You look-”
"Of course, I know I'm always handsome," Han shamelessly fills up the blanks, hand back in his hair. Yixing unconsciously mirrors his action, following his cue to smarten himself up. Even if he detests it, he acknowledges it as a necessary evil, to be mindful of his appearance.
“Let’s kill it, Xing!” Han hollers embarrassingly loud, puncturing the stillness of the Friday night.
Though Yixing is hard pressed to agree with Han, the Gryffindor’s effusiveness is simply irresistible. He sighs, and brings a weary hand to adjust his collar. The starchiness of his collar feels strange against his slick neck; he foresees it wilting soon from the damp sweat collecting on his neck. It’s going to be a long night.
“Let’s go.”
-
What first greets Jongdae’s eyes as he and Junmyeon reach the party venue is the crowd of similarly self-important attendees milling about as if they have nowhere better to be on a Friday evening. Cumbersome writing desks and chairs have been cleared away; instead comfortable sofas and armchairs are scattered all over the room. The classroom’s bookshelves have been left unmoved, but various sparkly lines of tinsel have been draped across the shelving units, no doubt done up by the house-elves in the late afternoon.
Professor Chang is the lone adult attendee within the venue, the designated chaperone of the night. He sticks out like a sore thumb, not only due to his age but also due to his good twenty centimetre height difference over a majority of the young attendees. He feigns a neutral countenance as his upturned eyes scan the room, but Jongdae knows that much like himself, the Quidditch teacher would rather be anywhere else but here. He takes a quick sip from his flask, no doubt containing alcohol. A wise choice, Jongdae thinks.
“Jongdae,” Junmyeon calls out, placing a hand on his forearm. “I need to discuss some prefectorial matters with Kyungri.” He motions towards a statuesque girl, with sleek, black hair bracketing her oval-shaped face. “Will you be alright by yourself, just for a bit?”
Mustering a laugh, Jongdae gives Junmyeon’s hand a quick pat and pushes the latter towards the sixth-year Slytherin’s direction. “And I thought I was the one babysitting you tonight! Don’t worry about me, hyung; I’ll be fine on my own.”
Junmyeon’s forehead momentarily creases in worry, but his face relaxes as soon as Jongdae shoots him a reassuring grin, along with a thumbs-up. Junmyeon shuffles away towards Kyungri, and the pair quickly fall into a hushed discussion, most probably discussing duties that Yifan had to reassign due to his absence.
Scanning the increasingly crowded room for a reprieve, Jongdae spots a house-elf holding up a platter of refreshments. Immediately, he pounces at the opening, hurrying towards said house-elf before it disappears amidst the sea of attendees.
“Excuse me,” Jongdae calls out breathlessly once he’s within earshot. “Could I have some of that? Please?”
The house-elf stills immediately and turns around, its beady eyes widening over Jongdae’s polite address. Its large ears droop in deference and its bony arm extends the tray towards Jongdae, who gratefully takes two too many to be considered appropriate.
Jongdae examines the tiny hors d'oeuvres nestled within his palm (which is already smaller than average, mind you) and his eyebrows knit together in light confusion. Looking around swiftly, he figures that nobody’s attention is on him and he proceeds to cram all three hors d'oeuvres into his mouth. He can imagine Junmyeon’s soft murmur of disapproval, almost but then again, it’s not that anyone’s paying attention to him, right?
Wrong. Jongdae is so wrong.
“Hey hey hey! Aren’t you one of Minseok’s baby cousins?” A voice cuts clearly over the restrained chatter of the rest of the party crowd. Jongdae groans internally. That distinctive voice could only belong to one person. Jongdae wishes that like Minseok, he isn’t at the party right now. If only.
Slickly wiping away any crumbs from his mouth, Jongdae turns around and pulls his lips into a cordial smile. He restrains himself from narrowing his eyes as he watches none other than Lu Han, the extroverted scion of the Lu spirits distillery, striding over towards him. Tailing just behind Han is another boy, whose placid expression diverges markedly from Han’s expression full of mirth.
“I was right!” Han says cheerfully, eyes widening in recognition as he takes in Jongdae’s features. “You’re just as tiny as he is!”
Jongdae would normally take offence out of habit, but he’s well-aware of his surroundings and his conversation partner. Instead, he merely nods.
“You must know me, right?” Han declares. “I’m Lu Han, but you can just call me Han. You probably know me because your cousin, Minseok, hates my guts.”
That introduction is certainly a lot to take in. Jongdae can only blink wordlessly, which makes Han chuckle. Han’s companion beside him remains silent, leading Jongdae to wonder if the other (just like himself) had been forced to attend tonight’s gathering. His hair is done up for the occasion, hair slicked back, revealing a high forehead and hooded eyes, surveying Jongdae with rapt attention.
Following Jongdae’s gaze, Han too shifts his attention to his companion. He gives the quiet boy a poke on his pale cheek and tilts his head towards Jongdae.
“Come on, don’t be a statue! Introduce yourself!”
Han’s companion hums after he is addressed, and flashes Jongdae a practiced smile. "Good evening. I’m Zhang Yixing, fifth-year Slytherin. Pleased to meet your acquaintance.”
Next to him, Han not-so-subtly groans, and he gives Yixing a light shove. “ I can’t believe this. Why are you always so uptight, Xing, I swear-”
“I believe Kim Minseok’s cousin hasn’t had a chance to introduce himself,” Yixing interjects so smoothly that it catches the other two boys off guard. “Pardon the interruption from Han-ge. And you are?”
Jongdae gives a little start with the focus being directed back at him. Unconsciously, his fingers fumble with the cuffs of his dress shirt as he too starts to give his self-introduction.
“Um. Yeah. I’m Kim J-Jongdae. I’m a fourth-year Hufflepuff.” He gives an imperceptible shake of his shoulders to calm his nerves. “It’s a um, I mean. It’s nice to meet you too.”
“Pretty.” Yixing says softly, and Jongdae’s head whips up to meet Yixing’s eyes incredulously.
Oh. Okay. Did that, did that just happen? Did he just call Jongdae-
No.
-
Yixing watches as the petite boy across him fumbles with the ends of his slightly oversized dress shirt, the extra pulls of fabric making the boy even smaller than he seemed. The boy’s eyelashes flitted rapidly over high cheekbones as he nervously mumbled his way through his self-introduction. Why was it that Yixing had never met Jongdae before? Certainly, he would have easily taken notice of Jongdae before tonight.
He truly is just so-
“Pretty.” Unbeknownst to Yixing, the last word of his thought escapes his lips.
Silence uncomfortably envelopes the air around the three of them and Yixing is quickly, painfully made aware of the word he let slip.
Really, Yixing, really? He begins frantically berating himself in his head. Of all things to say, you just HAD to call the boy you’ve just met for the first time pretty?
Jongdae blinks, one, twice, his lips parted slightly in disbelief.
Yixing wets his lips with a swift swipe of his tongue. He can practically feel Han beside him shaking with unbridled glee. Once again, Yixing is left wondering why he puts up with Han. (Perhaps he’ll seriously rethink their friendship after tonight’s party. He ought to do better than be friends with someone who gains pleasure over his own misfortune.)
"...Excuse me?" It's Jongdae who speaks first.
"You heard him right," Han interjects quickly before Yixing could reply. Yixing can viscerally hear the Gryffindor’s grin seeping into his tone. Oh, he's definitely enjoying this. "He called you pretty."
Denying at this point would prove to be a futile endeavor. If Yixing has any semblance of dignity left, he might as well profess.
"Y-yes. That's right." Despite the initial stutter, Yixing recovers fast and tacks on a neutral expression. "Pretty."
The creases on Jongdae’s forehead deepen and Yixing wonders if he’s only made the situation worse by professing.
“I can’t believe this,” Han repeats, glee still apparent in his tone. Yixing mentally casts the Silencio charm against him out of spite.
Yixing scrambles to find the words to salvage the situation, in light of both Han, who’s just being insufferable as usual, and Jongdae, who’s looking down at his own shoes, most definitely feeling the most uncomfortable right now.
“Oh, Jongdae! There you are! I’ve been looking all over the classroom for you.” A new voice suddenly joins in the fray and Yixing chants a silent thank you prayer, clinging onto the newcomer’s appearance as a lifesaver.
Kim Junmyeon steps into their now-awkward party of three and he smiles so winsomely, that it immediately breaks the tension cloaking the air around them. He gives Jongdae a rueful smile before turning his attention to both Han and Yixing.
“Well, hello there, Han, Yixing!” Junmyeon greets them easily. “I guess I should thank you for keeping Jongdae company while I had to settle some things.”
Beside Yixing, Han has noticeably mellowed down, ever since Junmyeon had stepped in. Even the boisterous Gryffindor proved to be weak under Junmyeon’s natural charm.
Yixing wonders if Junmyeon is just clueless at reading the situation at hand or if he’s just so adept at defusing it that it seems natural. His musings are answered by the subtle hand that Junmyeon wordlessly reaches behind and wraps around Jongdae’s shoulders.
“I guess we shouldn’t be keeping the both of you here for too long,” Junmyeon says, waving his free hand airily. “The hors d'oeuvres are going to disappear before you even know it! And it won’t be because of magic!”
Yixing manages a polite chuckle at Junmyeon’s joke, while Han remains love-stricken and quiet.
“You’re quite right, Junmyeon.” Yixing decides to speak up on Han’s behalf. “Enjoy the rest of the evening, both of you.”
Junmyeon nudges Jongdae’s shoulder softly. The younger Hufflepuff shifts his weight forward and finally, finally looks up; though, his nervous gaze is anywhere and everywhere but at Yixing.
"U-um, right. Yes, um, it's a pleasure to meet the both of you," Jongdae murmurs.
"I believe the pleasure is all mine, Kim." Yixing tilts his head, willing himself to maintain his cordiality till the very end. Calling Jongdae by his surname would only serve to distance him from Yixing. And honestly, Yixing would prefer to distance himself too from the fiasco that had just unfolded in the span of ten minutes.
The Hufflepuff pair take their leave and Han remains in an almost Veela-like induced haze for a few more seconds. He quickly jerks back to reality when Yixing lets out an unrestrained, disgruntled groan.
“Well, thanks for making me look like an asshole!” Yixing snaps, muttering sharply from the corners of his downturned mouth. “Thanks for not being of any help at all when I embarrassed myself in front of a cute boy.”
Han stills uncharacteristically as he takes in Yixing’s hurried words.
"Uh, I believe it should be 'Thank you, Han-ge, for making me extra memorable to a cute boy.’ So in that case, you're welcome, Yixing." Han shrugs.
"You don’t understand, Han-ge. You made me look like a complete asshole, just interested in his looks! Plus he's a Hufflepuff and I'm a Slytherin; there's no way he didn’t feel like the rumours about Slytherin aren’t justified." Yixing feels that he should really, really reevaluate the purpose of his friendship with Han.
“Oh god, Xing, here you go again with the House stereotypes. Would you give it a rest already?” Han has the cheek to roll his eyes, not at all fazed by Yixing’s outburst.
"Xing, please, I know you.” Han continues, pursing his lips. “Were you ever going to step up and flirt with him? No, you won't. You clearly don’t have the balls to approach him outside of this party.”
Yixing opens his mouth to retort but he remains silent. Han knows him too well, as that is exactly what Yixing is planning to do. He settles for folding his arms, wordlessly, expressing his disagreement with Han.
Han sighs, and cards a hand through his hair. He exhales and his expression turns almost fond. “Yixing, my dear Yixing. Now that you're in the radar of this Jongdae boy, you can't fall off! You've got to work for his attention. You need to win him over."
"Han-ge… This isn’t a game." Yixing pinches his nose bridge in vexation. "I'm not going to be chasing him. There’s no way he’ll ever give me the time of the day after what just happened."
Mirroring Yixing’s posture, Han crosses his arms and shakes his head. “So you’re telling me you’re not going to even try? That you’re just going to keep wallowing away all alone in that greenhouse of yours?”
"Hey." Yixing takes offence at the last sentence. "Kyungsoo comes by sometimes, okay? I'm not alone."
Han sighs again, and this time, Yixing can detect the pure weariness in the other’s voice. "You know what I mean, Yixing. Come on. Didn’t you see the way he could barely look at you? You’ve already gotten his attention, so what’s the harm in giving it a shot?"
It’s Yixing turn to sigh. He studies Han’s face and sees nothing but genuine sincerity in Han’s hopeful eyes. The cons definitely outweighs the pros, but Yixing eventually concedes that Han is right. He’ll never know if he never tries.
Finally, Yixing speaks up, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m going to need your help, Han-ge.”
“I’m going to be with you every step of the way, Xing! Trust me, you won’t regret it!”
Yixing hopes he’s right.