Archive of Our Own

Jingyi gets the epiphany right in the middle of Potions class (which, in hindsight, was possibly the worst time to be having Genius™ thoughts but alas, eureka moments cannot be controlled). 

“How much do you think counts as a ‘dash’ of pearl dust?” Zizhen asks from across the table, his new copy of Advanced Potion-making in one hand and a vial of sparkling white powder in the other. 

“No clue,” Jingyi swipes it from his grasp and tips the entire thing into the cauldron distractedly, “more importantly, don’t you realize that we’re brewing amortentia right now when we should be brewing up some actual love instead?” 

“Don’t bring up love while I’m trying to keep Professor Jiang from deducting points from us,” Zizhen complains as he stirs the concoction in the wrong direction, “you know what that word does to me.”

“We get it, you’re a hopeless romantic. So are all the Lans, you’re not special,” Jingyi teases before pointing the knife he’s using to cut up roses at Sizhui and Jin Ling, sitting across the room.

They reach for the pestle at the same time, their eyes making contact as they both pull back like they had been burned. Jin Ling looks away to hide the flush of red across his cheeks, chin raised as he loudly insists that Sizhui should just crush the moonstone instead. Sizhui is too busy fighting off his own soft blush to notice, kindly handing the tool over to the younger boy.

“I think we’ve put up with that mess for long enough. Let’s just slip a love potion into Sizhui’s drink. Problem solved!” 

“We can’t just drug Sizhui’s pumpkin juice!” Zizhen’s too busy protesting to notice he’s added more than the recommended amount of rose petals and that Jingyi has started mixing the amortentia with a knife

“Don’t you wanna see our two best friends happy?” He leans across the table and smiles imploringly, blade left idle in the pot.

“Okay, I’ll help, but for true love and not because of your bad attempt at puppy dog eyes.” Zizhen relents and turns back to the mixture they’re brewing, “I think if we add this pond slime we’re—” 

He never gets to finish that sentence because the second the goo drips into their concoction, the cauldron simultaneously goes up in flames and erupts, its pungent pink contents spraying Zizhen and Jingyi’s black robes, the surface of their table, and the dungeon walls.

“Fifteen points from Hufflepuff and Gryffindor for Ouyang Zizhen and Lan Jingyi’s inability to follow clear directions,” Jiang Cheng snaps over the groans of their classmates, “Clean that up before you two spend the rest of the week in detention.”

Zizhen grimaces and tries to cast a scouring charm while Jingyi hides his laughter behind his stained textbook. 

Of course, that’s when the cauldron decides to explode. 

(Jingyi swears the reverberating scream most definitely did not come from him.)

⁓*⁓

“So, let me get this straight,” Zizhen says slowly, “You want to attempt to brew the strongest love potion known to wizardkind...after we just blew it up in the middle of class an hour ago.”

“Exactly!” Jingyi nods, cheeks stuffed with chicken pot pie. 

They’re sitting at the Hufflepuff table to avoid Sizhui and Jin Ling’s eavesdropping, Jingyi’s red and gold tie standing out in a sea of yellow and black. The ceiling of the Great Hall mimics the sky outside, cerulean and cloudy, with candles still floating and flickering above them even at noon. Their light glints off the golden plates, ladened with an assortment of food. 

Zizhen steals some chips from Jingyi instead of from the massive bowl in the middle of the table, a small act of revenge for the catastrophe he had got them into. He still smells like burnt flowers and moldy goop and there was probably no time to change before their next lesson.

“You’re missing the big picture! When this works, Sizhui will confess his undying love for Jin Ling, they’ll get together, and ride off into the sunset. Happily ever after or whatever,” Jingyi insists after he swallows his mouthful.

“Do love potions even work on people who are already in love with each other?”

Jingyi only shrugs, “Maybe it’ll just increase their feelings and force them to confess. Come on! It’s worth a shot. If it goes wrong, we can ask A-Qing to brew it for us.”

Zizhen still looks unsure, picking at his lasagna for a moment as he mulls it over.

“I’ll buy you whatever you want from Honeydukes,” Jingyi wheedles, nudging him with his shoulder.

“Deal.”

And that’s how Zizhen finds himself in the girl’s bathroom the next afternoon, robes stuffed with potion ingredients they may have stolen from Professor Jiang’s personal stash. (Where else were we supposed to find Ashwinder eggs, Jingyi argues).

Thankfully, Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom is always empty no matter the time of day. Probably the side effect of a girl getting murdered by a giant snake in one of the cubicles...and having said dead girl haunting the toilets ever since. 

“I’m surprised you want to brew an illegal love potion here of all places,” Zizhen quips as he sets their stolen materials on the cold tile floor, “Aren’t you afraid of ghosts?”

Jingyi looks up from setting up the cauldron and makes a face at him, “I’m scared of ghosts and you think Moaning Myrtle’s pretty. We make quite the pair.” 

“Death doesn’t make anyone less attractive.”

“Just pass me the honeywater,” Jingyi groans as he picks up their potions textbook and flips through the recipe, “What kind of love potion needs bouncing spider juice?”

Zizhen wrinkles his nose, “I wonder what it tastes like. Don’t suppose you wanna give it a try?”

“Is that a challenge?” Jingyi grins as he stirs clockwise three times and pours in the moonstone powder. Immediately, Zizhen shakes his head. 

“I’m not sure I want you professing your unending, all-consuming love for me on the grimy floor of an abandoned girl’s lavatory.” 

Jingyi snorts, “If I ever decide to drop a confession on you, I’ll keep that in mind. Do you think the Shrieking Shack would meet your romantic standards?”

Zizhen elects to ignore him in favor of sprinkling rose petals—the correct amount this time—into the simmering concoction. Things go smoother now that they’re both actually paying attention and Jingyi chatters away about how Professor Lan—Qiren, not Wangji, he specifies—nearly caught him charming a paper clown he drew to dance in mid-air during the lecture. This makes Zizhen laugh, lamenting over not sharing History of Magic with him and Jin Ling.

“I think we’re done!” Jingyi announces as he dramatically wipes nonexistent sweat from his brow, “it’s got that mother-of-pearl sheen and the steam coming off of it is spiralling just like it should. Admit it, I’m the smartest Lan.”

“Of course you are,” Zizhen humors him fondly, more preoccupied with studying their amortentia to argue. He did have his moments, after all. “If we did get it right, it’s supposed to smell like what attracts us.”

Jingyi leans forward excitedly to take a sniff, “I smell...something earthy but clean, if that makes sense? Like the rivers of Gusu, and...the stir-fried vegetables my mom would cook every time I came back home...and that scent after it rains?”

“Petrichor?”

“Yeah that! Oh and something else too, like—” Jingyi pauses suddenly. He can’t quite make out exactly what it is but he knows it’s flowers with a hint of something fresh and a little... sweet? Like roses and mint, or maybe sweet tea and vanilla? He knows this fragrance, gets a whiff of it enough that it’s achingly familiar, but he just can’t put his finger on it.

“Like?” Zizhen prods when he doesn’t continue. Jingyi jerks up and opens his eyes, not even noticing he had closed them in concentration. 

“Nevermind, I can’t figure out what it is. What about you?”

Zizhen searches his face for a second but lets it go, “If you say so. Mine smells like those floral-scented envelopes I always send my letters in, a cup of black tea—the kind from back home that comes in pretty tins—with a little bit of honey, new poetry books, and...something woody and spicy like patchouli and cinnamon.” 

“How are you so good at describing smells?” Jingyi complains, tossing an empty vial over the cauldron at him.

“At least we know it works,” Zizhen starts scooping the glittering liquid with a ladle, “Now, all we have to do is sneak it into Sizhui’s goblet at breakfast and hope nothing goes wrong.”

“You know what they say, in for a penny, in till we’ve drowned!” 

Zizhen stops in the middle of corking the potion, “We both know that’s not how that goes.”

Jingyi just grins and holds out his hand for the bottle, “It has the same energy though.” 

Zizhen takes one look at him and then tucks the amortentia into his robe’s pocket, pretending not to hear his companion’s vehement protests. Sizhui would have been proud, he thinks. 

(Lan Sizhui would most certainly be anything but proud of his two best friends brewing up an imminent disaster but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him).

⁓*⁓

Zizhen’s palms are sweating the next morning and he’s dragged Jingyi to the Great Hall earlier than usual, shoulder pressed firmly against his as they sit side by side at the Ravenclaw table, waiting for Sizhui. Jin Ling somehow gets there before their target does.

“You’re here early,” He mutters into a goblet of orange juice. He’s clearly not a morning person...or a people person for that matter, but the previous statement still stands. “You look like Sizhui’s owl started nesting in your hair.”

Zizhen looks sheepish as he tries to use his plate as a mirror. Jingyi nonchalantly uses the hand that isn’t holding a scone to help comb through and pat down the hair at the back of his head. 

It sends a strange shiver down Zizhen’s spine, which makes absolutely no sense considering it’s not like he and Jingyi have never touched before, but the gesture is almost...sweeter than normal. It’s not the usual soft squeeze of his shoulder or firm pat on his back or excited tug on his wrist. 

Jingyi’s fingertips scratch soothingly against his scalp as he fixes Zizhen’s uncharacteristically messy bedhead and he has to fight against the urge to lean into his touch. A bunch of unwanted thoughts invade Zizhen’s head all at once.

What is going on? Did Zizhen accidentally ingest some of the amortentia? Can the fumes of a love potion cause people to develop feelings for whoever they brew it with? Or worse...does he maybe—

Thankfully, Jingyi’s voice stops that train of thought right in its tracks, “Didn’t sleep well?” He drops his hand and Zizhen almost misses the contact. 

He may have jinxed it though, because next thing he knows, Jingyi’s hand creeps along his side and slips into his robes. Zizhen glances at Jin Ling, who looks as though he’s trying to glare his omelette into submission and has clearly lost interest in their conversation, and then whispers, “What are you doing?”

“Just trust me!” Jingyi grins and slides his hand into his pocket, snatching the vial of amortentia. He quickly pours the potion into his untouched goblet of pumpkin juice and carefully slides it in front of the empty seat beside Jin Ling.

Somehow, he doesn’t even notice. When Zizhen swivels around though, he realizes why. Sizhui has entered the Great Hall, dark hair half pulled into an immaculate top knot and blue and silver tie carefully pressed. He makes his way toward them, all soft smiles and kind eyes, and Jin Ling is most definitely staring. 

(Zizhen thinks it’s cute. Jingyi pretends to gag).

“Good morning,” Sizhui greets them as he takes a seat beside Jin Ling, who immediately puts more space between them than necessary. Zizhen winces because there’s just no way Sizhui doesn’t notice that. He frowns and politely starts to pick his books back up, “Sorry, I can move if you want me to?”

“What? No! I didn’t–” Jin Ling says, both too quickly and too loudly, “That’s not—it’s your table. You can sit wherever you want.” He finally huffs and then goes back to actively avoiding Sizhui’s gaze.

Jingyi gives Zizhen a look that clearly means: ‘Are you kidding me?’ He internally sighs in agreement but decides to break the awkward silence anyway.

“Flapjacks?” Zizhen offers, passing a platter to Sizhui, who looks slightly...disappointed? He feels for him. Jin Ling is probably not the easiest person to have soft, fluffy feelings for.

Beside him, Jingyi is practically vibrating in anticipation, just waiting for Sizhui to finally take a sip of the pumpkin juice in front of him. Zizhen’s tempted to nudge him before he gives their plan away with his lack of subtlety, but thinks better of it.

“I’m surprised you two are here already,” Sizhui says with a look in his eyes that makes both boys nervous. Then he smiles at them a little too sweetly, “Usually, I beat you both to breakfast.”

“He woke up practically the entire Gryffindor Tower this morning, flailing and yelping like an idiot. He tripped over Fairy and then fell into his trunk, as he should,” Jin Ling scoffs, “Spilled his ten pairs of Sonic-themed underwear everywhere.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault your dog is so fat she takes up half the dormitory!”

“Fairy is not fat! You just have the coordination of a two-legged donkey, you—”

Sizhui and Zizhen exchange weary glances across the table and the older boy takes a sip from his goblet before cutting in, “Jin Ling, did you still want to work on the Transfiguration paper together later?”

Zizhen squeezes Jingyi’s arm under the table so hard he swears he loses feeling in his fingertips. They both wait with bated breath, watching Sizhui for any signs of the potion taking effect. 

“What? Did you change your mind about studying with me?” Jin Ling stiffens and crosses his arms defensively, “Because I didn’t need your help anyway! I just thought you might want some company. I was trying to do you a favor!”

Jingyi opens his mouth to argue with Jin Ling—probably about not being rude to Sizhui—when Sizhui tenses. His brown eyes glaze over and his lips quirk up in a dopey smile. Zizhen digs his nails into Jingyi’s sleeve in anticipation. Any minute now, he would look over at Jin Ling and sparks would fly.

...Except Sizhui does not turn to Jin Ling with a starry-eyed, lovestruck expression on his face. 

Instead, with surprising speed, Sizhui takes Jingyi’s hand and leans practically his entire body across the table, not even caring that strawberry jam smears across the front of his robes. He bats his eyelashes in a way that will undoubtedly haunt Jingyi’s nightmares tonight and presses a kiss to his knuckles.

“Lan Jingyi, your lips are like rose petals and your laugh is more beautiful than a skylark’s song,” Sizhui proclaims earnestly. Jingyi stares open-mouthed at him and what feels like the entire Ravenclaw House turns to stare in their direction as Sizhui shoves platters of food and knocks over goblets trying to climb onto the table into Jingyi’s lap, “My heart belongs only to you, my beloved!”

Jingyi tries to will himself to combust on the spot. Zizhen flaps his lips wordlessly like a fish and Jin Ling voices what everyone in the Great Hall is thinking.

“What the fuck?”

Jingyi wonders to himself how much worse the situation would be if he casts a Stupefying spell at his best friend right in front of every professor in the castle. He’s not left much of a choice when Sizhui finally clears the space between them and tries to plant a kiss on his mouth.

He then immediately regrets this decision because Sizhui slumps into him, unconscious and very much still straddling his lap. Jingyi sends Zizhen a panicked look, begging for any kind of help, but he’s frozen in mortification. Jingyi swears he hears A-Qing cackling from the Slytherin table. 

Jin Ling glares accusingly at him, “Did you just try to force Sizhui to fall in love with you?!”

His shouting carries over the chatter of the table, making the Ravenclaws lapse into a nerve-wracking silence. Zizhen studies his own drink, seriously considering whether it was possible to drown himself in his hot chocolate. Jingyi forces out an awkward laugh.

“Would you believe that my hand accidentally slipped?”

(No one does).

⁓*⁓

The only thing stopping Jin Ling from hexing Jingyi on the spot is Sizhui. More specifically, adorable, sleeping Sizhui who is currently nestled in his arms as he carries him bridal style to the hospital wing. His head rests against Jin Ling’s shoulder and god, was he always so warm and...pretty?

Sizhui’s lips are slightly parted and his breath comes out in cute little puffs. Zizhen had rearranged him so that his hands were in his lap, instead of dangling limply, but at some point during their walk, Sizhui had shifted one of them so he could clutch the front of Jin Ling’s robes. It was definitely going to leave creases but he couldn’t bring himself to mind, not when Sizhu looked so peaceful.

When they get to the infirmary, Madam Wen casts a reproachful look at them and shows Jin Ling to one of the empty cots. If anyone asks, he certainly does not want Sizhui to stay curled into him. “What now?”

Wen Qing doesn’t so much as look up from examining Sizhui, mouth drawn into a disapproving frown, “How much of that love potion did you give him?” 

“A vial full of Amortentia,” Zizhen murmurs guiltily. 

Jin Ling whirls on him, “Wait, you were in on this too?! What the fuck, Zizhen! I expected this from Jingyi, but you?”

“It was my idea!” Jingyi quickly comes to his defense, scrambling for a good excuse and coming up empty, “I wanted to see if...um, it was supposed to be for you! As a prank, you know? Zizhen helped me brew it but I didn’t tell him what it was for.”

Jin Ling is ready to start arguing again but Madam Wen hushes all three of them with a sharp stare, “Sizhui’s going to be fine. You probably didn’t make it well enough for it to last long. It’ll wear off on its own and since it was your brilliant idea, you can deal with the consequences.”

“What does that mean?” Jingyi’s expression is uneasy and rightfully so.

“Sizhui can go when he wakes up. He might be...distracted when he’s around you but your amortentia shouldn’t affect his ability to attend class. You’ll have to put up with his advances until the effects fade naturally. Consider it punishment for illegally brewing a love potion and using it on a fellow student.”

The three boys burst into protests but Wen Qing practically threatens them with floating acupuncture needles until they leave. Great, just wonderful.

Jin Ling doesn’t think this day could get any worse. Sizhui is conscious by the time they have Defense Against the Dark Arts together and he makes a beeline for Jingyi—who Jin Ling begrudgingly sits beside but doesn’t speak to—with hearts in his eyes. 

“You haunted my dreams when I was asleep, beautiful,” Sizhui coos as he sits on their desk to get the other Lan’s attention. Jin Ling shoots a glance to the front of the classroom, where Professor Wei had been enchanting a piece of chalk to draw a zombie on the board.

He stops, sees his adoptive son try to press a sloppy kiss to Jingyi’s cheek, and then breaks into peals of laughter, clutching the edge of his desk for stability. Yeah, no. He wasn’t going to be of any help whatsoever.

Jin Ling scowls and kicks Jingyi’s chair. “Find somewhere else to sit!” 

He doesn’t need to be told twice, snatching up his books and scrambling to the other side of the room with a parting, “Good luck with that! Braver than the Aurors!”

Jin Ling irritably wrestles Sizhui into the now-empty seat next to him and directs a Stickfast hex at his shoes to glue them in place. Thankfully, in his love drunk state, Sizhui doesn’t seem to realize he can just ditch his footwear and make a break for Jingyi if he wanted to, so he simply slumps down in defeat.

It’s a small victory...until it isn’t. Today just had to be the day that the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors share multiple classes together and Jin Ling uses an Epoximise spell to glue Sizhui to his chair during the next period. Then, when Sizhui finally catches on to his schemes, Jin Ling is forced to cast a freezing charm on him in the middle of Transfiguration.

By the end of the day, he’s tired, fuming, and honestly miserable. Sizhui hasn’t so much as glanced his way since he drank the love potion, sighing wistfully and staring at Jingyi for three hours straight. His notebook is devoid of any sort of useful information from their lectures. Instead, he has an entire page dedicated to writing Jingyi and his name inside a heart over and over again.

Jin Ling knows if he has to watch Sizhui throw himself at their best friend one more time, he’s going to end up doing something stupid like jump out of Gryffindor Tower or sic Fairy onto Jingyi. So, he escapes out of the castle and takes a walk along the grounds, his husky at his heels. 

They find a nice patch of grass near the Black Lake to sprawl out on and Fairy curls up against his legs as Jin Ling cracks open one of the heavy tomes he brought with him to study. He’s halfway through a chapter about nonverbal spells when he senses someone approaching. 

Sizhui greets him with a slightly embarrassed smile and Jin Ling nearly breathes a sigh of relief when he realizes he’s back to normal. 

“I thought we were going to study together?” His tone is teasing but Jin Ling can tell by his posture that Sizhui’s feeling as awkward as he is, “Or do you not want to keep me company?”

“You seemed busy,” Jin Ling replies sharply, not meeting his gaze. He internally winces at his own retort. Nice one, idiot. Wait to give your jealousy away.

“Not too busy for you,” The sincerity in Sizhui’s voice is so achingly clear and Jin Ling swears he can hear his own heartbeat racing in his ears. How does he say something like that so effortlessly? 

Jin Ling’s brain short-circuits and he doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he chucks his notebook at Sizhui. “You were too distracted by Jingyi’s dumb face to actually pay attention today, so you can copy my notes.”

It’s far from a sweet, reassuring statement that Zizhen would be proud of, but Sizhui beams like Jin Ling had personally gifted him a rabbit. “You took notes for me?”

A traitorous blush spreads across Jin Ling’s cheeks and down his neck. “What? No! They’re for me, I’m just sharing them because you didn’t take any!”

But there’s no use denying it because Jin Ling isn’t even in two of Sizhui’s other periods—Zizhen is—and he undoubtedly must’ve asked him to let Jin Ling copy the lecture outlines that Sizhui missed. Sizhui notices, there’s no way he hasn’t pieced that together, but he just sits down comfortably next to Jin Ling on the grass and pulls out his own study materials.

“Thank you, A-Ling,” He says, eyes warm and bright as he puts a hand on Jin Ling’s shoulder.

Maybe, just maybe, today had ended a little bit better than he expected.

(Somewhere, Jingyi feels the strange urge to give himself and Zizhen a pat on the back).

⁓*⁓

It’s halfway through the third day of Sizhui refusing to study with Zizhen and Jingyi, when the self-proclaimed matchmaker of their group finally brings The Plan up again.

“I’m not saying that one of us could take a Polyjuice potion and ask Sizhui out on Jin Ling’s behalf but...that’s maybe what I’m saying.”

Zizhen’s quill pauses only for a second over the History of Magic essay he’s writing. “As much as I would like to watch you pretend to act like Jin Ling, if that backfires badly, we would lose practically all of our friends.”

“I could live with Jin Ling never talking to me again and Sizhui would forgive us...probably!” 

Zizhen takes out a clean scroll, jotting down the words ‘Zizhen & Jingyi’s Magical Matchmaking Manual’ on the top before crossing out the Polyjuice potion option at the top of the list. Jingyi deflates for all of a nanosecond before perking up again.

“What if we shoved Jin Ling into the Black Lake and had Sizhui come to save him? Nothing screams romantic like a near death situation.”

“No, Jingyi. You can’t push Jin Ling into the Black Lake, even in the name of love.”

Jingyi taps the tip of his wand against his chin and then nods solemnly, “You’re right, it wouldn’t work. He’s a better swimmer than all of us combined...but maybe with a Body Bind curse—”

“Are you sure you’re not just using this as an excuse to torment Jin Ling?”

“I would never!” Jingyi feigns a scandalized expression. “I can’t believe you have such little faith in me!”

“I think,” Zizhen intervenes before they can stray off topic, “I have an idea.”

“Care to share it with the class?” Jingyi has leaned forward in anticipation, Cheshire grin already dancing on his lips. 

“Nope,” Zizhen pops the ‘p’ for added emphasis, “Just trust me and focus on your Quidditch practice. Aren’t you and Jin Ling playing against Ravenclaw next week?” 

“I am focused! Those nerds don’t stand a chance on Friday,” Jingyi crows. Somewhere, the librarian hisses at him to be quiet. In only a marginally softer voice, he says, “What does that have to do with anything anyway?”

There’s a rebellious edge to Zizhen’s smirk, one Jingyi has rarely seen outside of his exchanges with his father. “Like I said, don’t worry about it, young Padawan. Leave this to the Jedi master.”

“Did you just make a Star Wars reference??” His mouth hangs slightly open but Zizhen has packed away his stuff in record time.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have a cunning Slytherin beauty to recruit. See you at dinner!”

Jingyi calls out an objection, despite the glares half the students in the room send him, but Zizhen is gone in a rustle of black robes.

⁓*⁓

The day of the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw match comes around faster than anyone anticipated. The stands are packed with students from every house, painting the Quidditch pitch in scarlet, azure, viridian, and gold. Their roars greet the two teams as they fly out onto the field in formation. 

Sir Jin, Jin Ling’s father, broadcasts the roster and rules to the entire stadium with the use of a Sonorous charm and Jingyi tunes it out, scanning the crowd for a familiar commentator possibly in Hufflepuff colors. He misses the release of the three balls—the shiny Golden Snitch and two menacing black Bludgers—and Jin Zixuan flying up to the middle of the arena.

“The Quaffle goes up!” Zizhen’s amplified announcement snaps Jingyi out of his reverie. The sharp sound of the whistle being blown draws his attention to the last ball, descending from the sky. Jin Ling and one of the Ravenclaw chasers are already poised below to catch it.

“And the game begins!” Another familiar voice chimes in. On the commentator’s bench is A-Qing, her cobalt t-shirt contrasting against Zizhen’s crimson lion hoodie. 

“Jin Ling of Gryffindor has the Quaffle,” Zizhen shouts excitedly, “Look at how his silky hair flutters in the wind. Isn’t he just stunning in action?”

At that remark, Jingyi and Jin Ling nearly crash into each other trying to pass the ball, both caught completely off guard. Somehow, Jingyi manages to keep his hold on the Quaffle. Was this Zizhen’s brilliant plan? To hit on Jin Ling the entire game?

“I definitely know someone who thinks so,” A-Qing’s remark nearly causes Jin Ling to tip off his broom. He recovers somehow, unsteadily flying off to find a better position on the playing field. His ears are bright red and Jingyi swears when he darts past him, he can hear him cursing.

He tries to focus on the game and even through his cackling, he dodges two of the Ravenclaw chasers and makes it to the other team’s hoops. Sizhui is guarding them, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he watches Jingyi’s every move like a hawk. 

“There’s Lan Sizhui, Ravenclaw’s Keeper,” Zizhen says, “He’s a prefect, the son of two Hogwarts professors, and easily one of the brightest and most attractive of the 6th years.”

“It’s no wonder so many students are head over heels for him,” A-Qing adds with a snort, “and we know one of them.”

Jingyi watches with glee as usually unflappable Sizhui turns a soft shade of pink in front of him, his grip on his broom tightening. He takes that opening and rushes forward like a bullet, feinting to one side and then hurling the Quaffle with surprising force at the middle hoop. 

Sizhui falls for the bluff at first, clearly ruffled by Zizhen and A-Qing’s commentating, but his reflexes are nothing to scoff at and he manages to barely block the ball with the tips of his fingers. 

Groans erupt from the Gryffindor supporters but they’re quickly muffled by the sound of the Ravenclaw fans’ enthusiastic cheers. One of the Ravenclaw Chasers gets to the falling Quaffle before Jingyi can take it back but Jin Ling swoops in and steals it as they attempt to pass the ball to one of their teammates.

“And it’s back to Jin Ling,” Zizhen leaps to his feet in excitement, “That interception was so clean! How anyone isn’t in love with him at this point is beyond me.”

Jingyi has to stop in midair, choking back laughter. He completely misses the Quaffle whistling past him when A-Qing broadcasts that, “Someone better get a move on and ask him out while they still have a chance” to the entire student body.

“Hey! Pay attention!” Jin Ling yells at him as the Ravenclaws take possession of the ball again, “How did you not see me pass to you?”

Jingyi barely gets the chance to apologize before he executes a perfect barrel roll on his broom to dodge a bloodthirsty Bludger. Jin Ling is already halfway across the field, hot on the Ravenclaw chaser’s tail, by the time Jingyi is in the clear.

The commentating only gets progressively more suggestive and embarrassing as the game goes on. Zizhen compliments Sizhui’s pretty hands and adds that they’d look even better held in someone else’s. A-Qing accidentally—on purpose?—makes an offhand comment about Jin Ling’s ass that makes Sizhui go diving in the opposite direction of the oncoming Quaffle.

Despite—or maybe because of—the fumbling on both sides, it’s still a really close match. Ravenclaw is up 20 points, the Golden Snitch is nowhere to be seen, and Jingyi thinks his lungs are going to give out before anyone wins, if this keeps up any longer.

Jin Ling, who resembles a tomato at this point, finally snaps when he and Sizhui face off in front of one of the hoops. The Quaffle is tucked under one of his arms while his other hand grips the broom steadily beneath him. He tilts sideways and goes into a spin, trying to confuse Sizhui, when Zizhen’s voice echoes from the stands.

“Aren’t his lips just so soft and kissable? I bet it’s because Sizhui moisturizes.”

The Quaffle slams violently against the side of the hoop, missing the goal by a good couple of inches, and Jin Ling is speeding for the commentator bench, looking absolutely murderous.  He’s sure Zizhen would consider setting their best friends up as a worthy cause to die for but Jingyi murmurs a prayer for Zizhen anyway.

“Would you knock it off?” He bellows. Clearly, Jin Ling has forgotten they’re still in the middle of a game because he’s too busy shouting at Zizhen and A-Qing about ‘respectful Quidditch commentating’ to notice an ominous black iron ball racing towards him.

“Jin Ling, watch out!” Jingyi calls across the pitch and, as if in slow motion, the furious Gryffindor chaser turns right as the Bludger collides with his broom, snapping it in half. 

Screams fill the air as Jin Ling is sent spiralling downwards, still seated on the back end of his broom. Sizhui, forgetting about the ongoing match, abandons his post and darts across the arena. He brings himself into a nosedive, trying to get to Jin Ling before he hits the ground. 

Sir Jin is pulling his wand out, aiming a Slowing charm at his falling son, and Jingyi does the only thing he can think to do. He races toward the Ravenclaw side of the stadium and does what Sizhui can’t.

“Wait...is that Lan Jingyi of Gryffindor, guarding the other team’s goal posts?” A-Qing says over the chaos, “Is this even allowed?”

Jingyi glances over at the commentators, panicked. “I’m doing what I can for my people!”

The last remaining Gryffindor chaser is staring at him, open-mouthed and outraged, as she attempts to weave around the three Ravenclaws circling her, arms extended to take the Quaffle. 

“Hold on!” Zizhen interrupts, jumping to his feet and pointing at the North end of the Quidditch pitch. “Jin Rusong’s caught sight of the Snitch!”

Two red and blue blurs race just above the stadium grounds, feet nearly skimming the grass, as they chase after a tiny golden pinprick. Their shoulders jostle each other and the Ravenclaw seeker tumbles off their broom. Then, Jin Rusong’s outstretched hand closes around something and the crowd breaks into deafening applause.

“And that’s it!” A-Qing huffs defeatedly, “He’s caught the Snitch!” 

“With 220 to 90, Gryffindor wins!” Zizhen fires a stream of red and gold sparks from the tip of his wand. Jingyi joins in the cheers for a whole minute before reality dawns on him and he grimaces, scanning the ground for Sizhui and Jin Ling.

Jin Ling is being transported on a floating stretcher and Sizhui’s expression is drawn into a worried frown, as he and Jin Zixuan exchange words Jingyi can’t hear from this far up. Madam Wen is already waiting for them at the exit, face impassive.

He considers joining them to check on Jin Ling—he did feel kind of bad about the Bludger incident even if he didn’t technically do anything—but when he flies over to where Zizhen and A-Qing are sitting, they both shake their heads in unison.

“We can go visit Jin Ling in the hospital wing later,” Zizhen looks as guilty as Jingyi feels but A-Qing gives him a firm pat on the back.

“This isn’t anyone’s fault. It was just an unfortunate accident and he’ll be fine,” She reassures them resolutely before smirking, “Besides, this will give them some...alone time together.”

Jingyi definitely likes the way A-Qing thinks. Maybe Zizhen was onto something, bringing her into the loop. 

⁓*⁓

For someone whose hand has been broken in at least five different places by a Bludger, Jin Ling still has it in him to vehemently object to being taken to the infirmary.

“This is ridiculous! It doesn’t even hurt. Just cast a bone-mending spell on me and I’ll be fine!”

“Jin Ling,” Sizhui tries to put a placating hand on his good arm but gets interrupted by Sir Jin, who looks like he’s fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

“The only reason it doesn’t hurt is because Madam Wen very graciously used a bandaging charm to ease the pain of having three shattered fingers, among other things.”

Wen Qing takes one glance at Jin Ling’s indignant frown and decides risking Jin Ling’s bones vanishing is better than having to deal with him complaining for the next couple hours. “Brackium Emendo.”

Blue light glows like an aura around Jin Ling’s hand and when he wiggles his fingers successfully, he smirks. “Good as new!”

Before he even gets halfway through his thanks, Wen Qing is already out the door with a simple, “Pay better attention to your surroundings, will you?”

Jin Zixuan gives his son’s shoulder a gentle but firm squeeze, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Good job out there, A-Ling, but try not to worry us next time.”

He turns to Sizhui with a nod, “I’ll leave him to you. I’m sorry about Ravenclaw’s loss today but perhaps, you’ll do better against the Hufflepuffs.”

“It’s all right. I can get him to the castle,” Sizhui says with a polite smile and just like that, Jin Ling and Sizhui are alone in the Gryffindor locker room. 

Jin Ling quickly sits up and gets off the stretcher before Sizhui can even offer to help him. Standing up, he’s only a few inches shorter than Sizhui is and he gives Jin Ling a once-over, checking for any other injuries.

Sir Jin’s Slowing charm coupled with Sizhui catching him before he hit the ground too hard had kept the damage to a minimum. Just the memory of Sizhui’s strong arms wrapping around him and pulling him off his spiralling broom makes Jin Ling blush. 

Okay, maybe don’t think about that when he’s right in front of you.

Sizhui seems to want to give Jin Ling heart failure though, because he reaches out and takes his hand, turning it to inspect the scratches on his palm. There are some matching scrapes on his knees too, from their not-so-graceful landing. 

Jin Ling wonders briefly if being a Lan has given him immunity to harm or bad hair. While his uniform is rumpled and torn, his hand is bleeding, and loose strands are coming out of his ponytail, Sizhui looks windswept in the most unfairly attractive way possible.

He doesn’t get to think too much about it when Sizhui caresses his palm gently and takes out his wand, silently whispering a spell that cleans and heals his cuts. When Sizhui leans down to do the same to his scuffed knees, Jin Ling regains his voice.

“It’s fine! You don’t have to! I can—”

But Sizhui finishes tending to his wounds and neatly brushes himself off as he rises again. He smiles at Jin Ling, doe-like eyes filled with fondness, and Jin Ling barely stammers out an, “Um...thanks?” in reply.

Smooth, a voice in Jin Ling’s head that sounds suspiciously like Jingyi says sarcastically.

“Just don’t scare me like that again,” Sizhui’s tone is light, but Jin Ling can tell he seriously means it. He opens the door for Jin Ling and they head out onto the grounds, the sky already turning burnt orange and deep purple above them. 

“I wasn’t trying to get hit with a Bludger!” He feels the need to defend himself. “It’s not my fault Zizhen and A-Qing were making fun of me the entire game! And my jawline cannot ‘cut through butter’ or whatever that’s supposed to mean!”

Sizhui tries—and fails—to hold back his giggles. “I think that was supposed to be a compliment.”

“And they were flirting with you too!” Jin Ling elects to ignore that, forging on with renewed irritation, “Did you hear Zizhen say your lips were kissable? Who even does that?!”

Sizhui knows he probably shouldn’t tease Jin Ling but the words are out before he can stop himself. “You don’t think so?”

Jin Ling stops dead, blinking once and then twice as if trying to process what exactly Sizhui is trying to say. When it finally clicks in his head, he flushes at least ten different shades of red and his heart nearly beats right out of his chest in sheer panic. 

“I–you...the—that’s not the point!” 

Sizhui takes pity on him and lets him swiftly change the subject.

“With the whole love potion thing last week and whatever strange stuff Zizhen was spouting today, I’m starting to think he’s...into you or something!”

Jin Ling is officially terrible at hiding his emotions and he just knows his pouting and grouching is definitely giving him away. Sizhui can probably smell the jealousy radiating off him from a mile away, but if he does notice, he doesn’t let on. 

“I’m pretty sure that if Zizhen had feelings for me, I would have gotten a love poem via Owl Post by now,” Sizhui gently points out. His gaze drifts to the looming castle in front of them as he says, “Besides, Zizhen’s just a friend to me.” 

That last remark piques Jin Ling’s interest and in a tone he hopes is casual and indifferent, he asks, “What? Is he not your type or something?”

“You could say that, ” Sizhui hums noncommittally. There’s a brief pause as he considers his next words, “I’d like someone...bolder, more daring, someone who secretly loves animals and is fiercely protective and caring about his loved ones, even when he tries to hide it. Someone who always wants to prove himself, even if he’s already strong and smart enough that he doesn’t have to.”

That’s when Jin Ling knows he’s completely hopeless...because Lan Sizhui is probably in love with Jingyi of all people and there’s just no way he can get between those two childhood friends even if he wanted to.

(At the Gryffindors’ victory party, A-Qing holds a cup of Butterbeer in one hand and feels tempted to light something or someone on fire). 

⁓*⁓

By some miracle, Jin Ling isn’t even mad at Zizhen after the entire Quidditch commentating incident. Jingyi whines about how “unjust this is! If it were me, he would’ve Bat Bogey hexed me the second he saw me!” 

Somehow, Jin Ling is even moodier than he was when Sizhui followed Jingyi around like a lovesick puppy the other week and that’s almost record-breaking in itself. Zizhen decides to intervene when he catches the Gryffindor moping on the common room floor, watching the ruined half of his Charms essay burning in the hearth.

“...Do you want to talk about it?” He takes a seat on the fraying scarlet rug beside Jin Ling and offers him a chocoball. Jin Ling unwraps it and promptly shoves the whole thing in his mouth, grumbling morosely. “Whatever it is, I promise I won’t tease you...or laugh.”

Jin Ling doesn’t look convinced but he crosses his arms and scowls resolutely at the flickering flames, not meeting Zizhen’s gaze. “I think Sizhui likes Jingyi.”

Zizhen nearly chokes on the chocolate he’s chewing. Clearing his throat and trying to maintain a solemn expression, he asks, “Did he tell you that?”

“No, but he might as well have!” Jin Ling slumps against the table behind them, grumbling in frustration. “He said he likes someone who’s brave, an animal lover, secretly cares about his loved ones a lot, and is strong and smart but still tries to prove his worth anyway. He’s describing Jingyi.”

It’s lucky that Zizhen’s blessed with nearly as much patience as Sizhui because Jin Ling is hopeless and dense. Sizhui had practically spelled out ‘Jin Ling, I like you’ across his forehead and yet, he was still cluelessly sulking about his unreciprocated feelings for Sizhui. 

Zizhen makes a mental note to remind Jingyi about their matchmaking scheme tomorrow. If he has to watch them dance around each other until Christmas, he’s going to end up with a receding hairline at the ripe age of 16. 

“The love potion made Sizhui go all goo-goo eyes for Jingyi,” He reminds Jin Ling reassuringly, “I did some research about it and apparently, it doesn’t work if the recipient already likes the giver.”

It’s almost adorable how Jin Ling immediately perks up at that. “Really?” 

“Really,” Zizhen nods and offers him another chocoball with a comforting—if not slightly sympathetic—smile, “Now, about that Charms essay you were writing?”

At breakfast the next day, Jingyi beats Zizhen to the punch before he can even pull out their ‘magical matchmaking manual,’ already grinning as he slides into the seat beside him.

“I already have a plan!” He sings smugly, “And since you refused to give me the heads up last time, I’m keeping it a secret!” 

Zizhen looks at him, all big pleading eyes and pouty pink lips, and normally that would work but Jingyi refuses to budge. 

“Don’t even think about it! All you need to know is if you see my Patronus, bring Sizhui to the Whomping Willow as fast as you can.”

This already sounds like a bad idea but judging by the stubborn set to Jingyi’s jaw, Zizhen’s not going to be able to wrestle an explanation out of him, so he lets it slide. 

“Fine but if anything goes wrong, you’re leaving your Firebolt to me.”

“I’ll put it in my will.” Jingyi mock salutes and Zizhen wishes he didn’t find his antics quite so charming.

⁓*⁓

It takes precisely 2 days, 4 hours, and 35 minutes to get Jin Ling to snap, which might be a new record but who really keeps count? (Jingyi does).

He’s spent the past how many hours doing absolutely everything to tick Jin Ling off. He borrows five of his quills and breaks or loses them before he can give them back. He partnered up with him during Potions and spilled an entire jar of Giant Purple Toad warts down his robes. 

At dinner, Jingyi knocked over Jin Ling’s goblet right into Sizhui’s lap. Then, he woke him up at four in the morning by getting Fairy to tear off the curtain on Jin Ling’s four-poster bed. Later, in the middle of Divination, Jingyi loudly declared that Jin Ling was cursed to never find love because of an ominous raven that plagued the bottom of his tea cup. 

One badly aimed Leg-Locker curse during Defense Against the Dark Arts, a mistimed Dungbomb dropping, and an admittedly insensitive remark about why Sizhui wouldn’t want to date him, Jin Ling finally confronts Jingyi after their last period.

“What the hell is your problem recently?” He growls, “Did I accidentally leave a muddy footprint on your Toyohashi Tengu blanket again?” 

Jingyi fights the urge to laugh at how easily Jin Ling has fallen right into his trap and lies through his teeth. “Maybe I’m just sick of listening to you whine like a young mistress.”

It’s been years since Jingyi has used that nickname on Jin Ling, a habit he dropped after they had become friends, and he feels awful for bringing it up again but it’s the only way he knows how to egg Jin Ling on.

“Jingyi, you f—”

“You know what, let’s just settle this,” He cuts him off with a sneer, “Duel at the Whomping Willow…if you’re not a pussy.” 

Jingyi winces internally as the hurt in Jin Ling’s eyes transforms into outright fury, “Like I’d ever lose in a fight against the weakest Gryffindor and the most unlikely Lan.”

Okay, maybe he deserved that.

This might be going a little too far, Jingyi admits, but he’s in too deep to stop now so he follows Jin Ling out onto the grounds and secretly sends a Patronus message to Zizhen when he’s sure he isn’t looking.

If a near death experience worked last time, it’s bound to work again.

Zizhen sees the wispy silver Beagle just as he’s coming down the stairs to the Entrance Hall. It bounds up to him, earning stares from the other students, and then wags its tail. It points its nose to the direction of the double doors leading outside and Zizhen barely manages to nod in response, as he turns and rushes back to where he just split off from Sizhui. 

“Sizhui, we have to get to the Whomping Willow! It’s Jingyi and Jin Ling!” Zizhen calls breathlessly down the corridor, where Sizhui has stopped to talk to one of the other Ravenclaw prefects.

He takes one look at the alarmed expression on Zizhen’s face and hastily excuses himself from the conversation, sprinting down the hall. They take the stairs two at a time and Zizhen opts to tell Sizhui about Jingyi’s Patronus, leaving out the rest of the incriminating details.

When the two finally reach the infamous violent tree, Zizhen realizes exactly why Jingyi refused to let him in on his plan. Standing several feet apart are the two Gryffindors...firing spells at each other. Flashes of gold and blue illuminate the air between them, sparks of light ricocheting off one another. 

Jin Ling aims an Ear-Shrivelling curse at Jingyi, who parries with a Backfiring jinx that the younger boy has to roll sideways to avoid. He’s getting dangerously close to the edge of the Whomping Willow’s range but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Flipendo!” Jin Ling shouts over the creaking of the tree’s massive branches, which have begun to swish ominously. Sizhui thankfully has the reflexes of a Quidditch Keeper and he whips out his wand, casting a Disarming charm at him before Jin Ling’s spell can hit its target.

Jingyi sees this as the perfect opening to shoot a Jelly-Legs jinx right at Jin Ling’s chest, causing him to collapse...just within the Whomping Willow’s range. The tree shudders and with a threatening groan, its branches wave viciously, barely missing Jin Ling’s head.

Zizhen panics and takes Jingyi out of commission with a quiet, “Rictusempra!” This leaves the task of saving Jin Ling, whose legs have become as wobbly as gelatin, to him and Sizhui. 

The Whomping Willow is definitely out for blood, swinging its limbs down with alarming force. Jingyi rolls out of the way, still giggling from the effects of Zizhen’s spell, and nearly gets caught on yet another oncoming branch.

“I’ll distract the tree, you get Jin Ling!” Zizhen says over his shoulder as he runs straight at the willow, jumping over a gnarled bough like he was skipping rope. The lengths he was willing to go to get his best friends together...

Sizhui doesn’t need to be told twice, already dashing to Jin Ling’s side. He’s lying on his belly, supporting his weight on his elbows and dragging himself away from the sprawling roots of the sentient plant.

Sizhui ducks under a twisted branch and crawls the rest away to Jin Ling. He’s just about to reach out and help him up when a particularly broad bough, resembling a wooden club more than a twig at this point, descends on him. 

Before it can squash Sizhui in a pancake, Jin Ling tugs him out of the way with probably more force than necessary and they both go tumbling out of the way. Sizhui instinctively squeezes his eyes shut and braces himself for impact, but his face never meets the ground.

When he opens them, he’s staring down at Jin Ling, who he has caged in his arms. His long, dark hair is spread across the grass and his lips are ever so slightly parted, panting beneath him from the adrenaline. 

Jin Ling realizes the position they’re in and his mouth instantly goes dry. He wants to say something...like tell Sizhui to get off him before they get pummelled by another onslaught of branches, but all rational thought has exited stage left.

Sizhui, notorious for being the voice of reason among his friends, is surprisingly not faring any better. Jin Ling has a light dusting of pink across his sharp cheekbones and his gaze is practically boring into Sizhui, as if waiting for his next move. 

When Jin Ling’s tongue unconsciously darts out to wet his lips, Sizhui’s eyes involuntarily flick down to his mouth. He’s still holding himself up above the Jin Ling but he can practically feel the heat radiating off him, even with the barest hint of contact between them. All Sizhui has to do is lean down a few inches and…

Jin Ling feels a shiver go down his spine as Sizhui visibly swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, and then tilts his head, slowly closing the distance between them. He feels his warm breath fan across his face and Jin Ling’s eyes flutter closed, waiting for the tell-tale press of Sizhui’s lips against his.

Then, Zizhen screams and Jingyi’s forced laughter cuts off sharply, breaking the spell. Sizhui comes to his senses first, jerking up and scrambling off of Jin Ling. He flings himself sideways before Zizhen, caught on one of the thicker boughs of the tree, slams into him.

The branch shakes violently, swinging a horrified Zizhen this way and that. He’s too far up for Sizhui to reach and Jin Ling still hasn’t regained feeling in his legs. Sizhui is just about to pull out his wand when Jingyi, no longer under the influence of the Tickling charm, darts to the weather-beaten trunk.

He feels for the knot in the wood, pressing it just in time. The hefty wooden limb freezes above his head and the rest of the Whomping Willow goes rigid and motionless. The bough Zizhen has been clutching like a life line comes to stop not too far from the ground and he drops unceremoniously onto Jingyi.

The two go down in a clumsy pile of limbs, Jingyi whining in opposition and Zizhen moaning in discomfort. Then, a looming shadow blankets them and they both look up to meet Sizhui’s reproachful frown. 

Crossing his arms and directing his disapproving gaze to all three of his friends, Sizhui says in an eerily calm tone, “Does anyone want to explain why you decided to have a duel in front of a tree that is infamous for taking a student’s eye out?”

If there’s one thing Jingyi and Jin Ling agree on, it’s not disappointing Sizhui even further and they both quickly force out chuckles and come up with flimsy excuses—something about betting on who was the stronger Gryffindor—to cover up their earlier argument. Zizhen stays very quiet and hopes he blends into the grass. 

Sizhui is very much not convinced but a teasing remark of, “You and Jin Ling seemed to be getting along just fine while Zizhen and I nearly got beaten to death by an angry tree” from Jingyi forces him to let it go.

Jingyi pays for that later at dinner, when Sizhui whispers something about how he and Zizhen looked cute on top of each other in his ear while he’s drinking his pumpkin juice. That sends Jingyi into a choking fit and Sizhui smiles serenely as he pats his back, telling himself that Jingyi definitely deserved it.

⁓*⁓

Zizhen waits exactly a week after the Whomping Willow incident to enact his plan and this time, he has a good feeling about it. It’s romantic, harmless, and nearly foolproof—which, considering their track record, is already a considerable improvement. 

Sinking into an overstuffed armchair in the cozy Hufflepuff common room, Zizhen begins to draft the perfect love letter to Sizhui. The basement is quiet and fairly empty around this hour and the sunlight pouring in from the circular windows paints a serene backdrop for him to write in.

After what feels like hours, and more time than he’s ever spent on penning any of his academic essays, Zizhen leans back against the throw pillow with a content sigh, admiring his handiwork. 

He had made sure to compliment Sizhui’s soothing smile, compare his laughter to windchimes, and hint at who the sender was (Jin Ling, of course) all in one eloquently written masterpiece. 

Feeling particularly pleased with himself, Zizhen heads to Gryffindor Tower with a skip in his step. All he has to do now is take one of Jingyi’s red envelopes, the pretty ones he’s seen hiding inside his bedside drawer, and charm a quill to copy down his letter in disguised penmanship.

Everything was going to be perfect!

Zizhen can barely contain his excitement at breakfast the next morning, watching the ceiling of the Great Hall for the owls to come bearing the daily mail. He catches sight of Sizhui’s snowy owl, a speck of white surrounded by a flurry of tawny and pewter feathers. The vermillion envelope he had spritzed with Jin Ling’s cologne—don’t ask how he got that—is tied to its leg.

He’s got a good view of the Ravenclaw table from where he’s sitting and he’s practically at the edge of his seat when Sizhui pulls the letter free, carefully breaking the wax seal. Zizhen’s grin lasts all of five seconds before the red paper comes to life and begins to screech the contents of his love note.

“BELOVED, SIZHUI!” The Howler snarls furiously and Zizhen squeezes his eyes shut, as if he could will the envelope away if he just refused to look at it. “I AM ADMITTEDLY TOO NERVOUS TO APPROACH YOU MYSELF, IN FEAR OF REJECTION, BUT I CANNOT STOP MYSELF FROM AT LEAST LETTING YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL.”

Sizhui slumps down in his seat, shoulders hunched, as if to hide himself from the stares of the other students. 

“I FIND MYSELF LOST IN YOUR WARM BROWN EYES, YOUR REASSURING GAZE NEVER FAILING TO CALM ME DOWN.”

At the Gryffindor table, Jin Ling fixes Jingyi with a condemning glare but he wears a genuine look of shock and confusion. Jingyi shakes his head insistently and Zizhen can see him earnestly whispering something to Jin Ling, mouth forming what he thinks is an alibi.

“IT’S UNFAIR HOW CALM YOU ARE AMIDST CHAOS, HOW BRAVE YOU ARE IN THE FACE OF ADVERSITY, AND HOW GIVING YOU ARE WITHOUT EVER ASKING FOR ANYTHING IN RETURN.”

A-Qing pelts a piece of cereal at the back of Zizhen’s head, causing him to turn around. With both amusement and disapproval dancing in her eyes, she says, “You’re behind this, aren’t you?”

“I AM CONSTANTLY LEFT IN AWE OF YOUR KINDNESS, PATIENCE, AND HUMILITY. I KNOW I AM HARDLY WORTHY OF YOUR TIME OR PRESENCE BUT I AM GRATEFUL FOR EVERY SECOND I AM ABLE TO STAY BY YOUR SIDE.”

Zizhen cringes in response and that’s all the evidence A-Qing needs. She snorts into her goblet and then gestures to poor Sizhui, whose face is half hidden behind one hand. “You’ve really done it now.”

“YOUR SMILE IS AS RADIANT AND BRIGHT AS THE LIGHT OF A FULL MOON AND WHEN YOU SPEAK, YOUR SWEET VOICE CASTS AN UNBREAKABLE SPELL ON ME.”

At that, Jingyi’s form is wracked by giggles, half-muffled by the sleeve of his robe. Some of the other students snicker as well but Jin Ling is quick to come to Sizhui’s defense, slamming a hand down on the table and rising from his seat.

“What do you think you’re looking at?” He casts a menacing scowl at the onlooking crowd. Immediately, silence falls on the Great Hall once more...of course, until the Howler interrupts.

“IT’S IMPOSSIBLE NOT TO FALL FOR YOUR WINDCHIME LAUGH AND GOLDEN HEART! I DON’T EXPECT YOU TO RETURN MY LOVE BUT I CAN ONLY HOPE THAT YOU CONTINUE TO BE SOMEONE I CAN TRULY CALL MY CLOSEST FRIEND.”

Zizhen shamefully buries his face in his arms. How his basically infallible ploy had been ruined to this extent was beyond him. Were Sizhui and Jin Ling just cursed to never be together no matter how hard he and Jingyi try to nudge them in the right direction? 

“I WILL ALWAYS TREASURE THE IRREPLACEABLE MEMORIES YOU HAVE GIFTED ME ALL THESE YEARS. I ONLY DESIRE TO KEEP MAKING YOU SMILE, FOR AS LONG AS YOU’LL ALLOW ME TO STAY BESIDE YOU. WITH LOVE, YOUR LIONHEART.”

The Howler finally shudders and bursts into flames, just as Jin Ling makes it to Sizhui’s table, wand already whipped out to destroy it. Grabbing Sizhui by the elbow and practically hauling him out of his seat, Jin Ling drags him to the door.

Sizhui tries to smile at him, as if to reassure Jin Ling that he’s fine, but it’s wobbly and he can’t quite meet his eyes. His usually perfect posture is marred by hunched shoulders, as if he was trying to make himself smaller, and Jin Ling’s temper flares. 

Seeing the always composed Lan Sizhui uneasy and skittish just felt wrong. No one was allowed to make him feel the need to hide himself in embarrassment, not while Jin Ling has a say in it. 

He pulls Sizhui into the courtyard, only releasing his wrist when they’re out of sight from prying eyes. Jin Ling doesn’t miss the way Sizhui fidgets with his hands and shifts his weight from one foot to the other, tell-tale signs of his agitation. 

“Don’t let it get to you,” Jin Ling asserts, suddenly wishing he could comfort him like Zizhen or ease away the tension like Jingyi. “They’re just jealous they’re not the ones getting love letters from some mysterious admirer...and so what if it was a Howler! Maybe it was just a mistake.”

When Sizhui doesn’t say anything, Jin Ling goes on. “Besides, even if it’s not real, you deserve better than that shitty love letter! You’re great and someone’s bound to be in love with you—not that I think it’s fake! They probably really like you...and if they don’t, I’ll have them puking slugs for a week!” 

Jin Ling knows he’s rambling and he’s halfway through internally cursing his inability to be reassuring when he sees Sizhui crack a small, amused smile. Oh thank Merlin. 

“Do you remember how we became friends?” Sizhui asks, a faraway look in his eyes.

“Of course I do! We were in second year and one of the idiot Gryffindors thought it was funny to switch out your plant during Herbology, so it looked like you had repotted your Mandarke wrong. I defended you and—”

Jin Ling cuts himself off, grimacing when he remembers what happened next. Sizhui continues the story from where he had stopped.

“And he made you throw up slugs. I took you to Madam Wen but she said it would wear off on its own. I stayed with you until it did...and now we’re here.”

“And I’d do it again,” Jin Ling bravely turns to Sizhui so he can see the sincerity in Jin Ling’s golden eyes. “If there’s one thing your secret admirer and I agree on, it–it’s how lucky we are to have you in our lives.”

It takes all of Jin Ling’s will power to admit his feelings out loud, to practically bare his heart to Sizhui, but he deserves to know that someone other than a possibly fake admirer genuinely cares about him.  

For once, it’s Sizhui who breaks eye contact first, ducking his head to hide his bashful smile. It makes all the self-consciousness Jin Ling feels worth it. Heck, if this was what it took to make Sizhui happy, Jin Ling might actually do it more often. 

⁓*⁓

Jingyi has learned at least 3 things from the Lans. 

1. The key to Transfiguration is visualization. 
2. Lan Wangji is a god among men.
3. Find an opening and wait for the perfect moment to strike. 

He’s yet to master the last teaching but after the four consecutive failures in the span of three weeks, biding his time was looking like his best option. 

Also, after Zizhen confessed to writing the love letter on a Howler envelope by accident, Sizhui seemed to be getting suspicious of Jingyi and Zizhen’s strange behavior. It was best to lay low for now.

The first month back at Hogwarts passes without any more tricks or schemes from either of them and even Zizhen seems to think Jingyi has finally given up on trying to get Jin Ling and Sizhui together.

“Maybe it’s not meant to be,” He says glumly as they walk down towards the edge of Forbidden Forest for their Care of Magical Creatures Class.

“You don’t mean that,” Jingyi bumps their shoulders together optimistically, “I just need inspiration! Then, we’ll be back in business.”

“You’re right,” Zizhen sighs wistfully, “if we can’t find love before we graduate, we can at least make sure Jin Ling and Sizhui do.” 

“What do you mean if we can’t find love?” Jingyi feigns an affronted look. “When Jin Ling and Sizhui get together, I’ll find you someone to write love poems for, who will take you on moonlit walks around the castle and teach little birds to sing for you in the morning.”

Zizhen fixes him with an unreadable expression on his face, like he wants to say something but doesn’t know if he should. Jingyi is just about to ask him if he’s already got someone in mind when he sees them.

“Nifflers!” 

Zizhen knows by the sparkle in Jingyi’s eyes that he’s found all the inspiration he needs. He probably should stop him from stealing one of Professor Wen’s magical creatures but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Wen Ning was Sizhui’s uncle after all. As long as nothing bad happened to the little treasure thieves, he’d most likely understand...right?

That’s precisely why Jin Ling wakes up on Sunday morning with his belongings ransacked, barely catching sight of the fluffy rodent-like menace disappearing out of the slightly ajar door.

The Gryffindor dorm room is empty save for him and somehow, he’s the only one with his trunk and bedside drawers in a disarray. Somehow, he just knows Jingyi is behind this and he’s going to make him fix it.

He comes down to breakfast only half-dressed properly and the other three sixth years know better than to point out that his hair has been left down and he’s still wearing his yellow paw print pajama pants.

“A niffler got into my stuff this morning!” Jin Ling huffs as he plonks himself down unceremoniously beside Zizhen. “I swear if you had anything to do with it, Jingyi, I’ll—”

“Why is it that when something bad happens you instantly think it’s my fault?” 

“Because it usually is your fault!”

“We’ll help you track it down,” Sizhui offers without hesitation, “I’m sure there’s a fairly simple way to lure and capture a Niffler. It didn’t take anything important, did it?”

A look of realization dawns on Jin Ling’s face and his expression darken, “Fuck. There’s no way that little rat didn’t take that.”

“That?” Sizhui frowns, eyebrows knitting together in concern. 

Jin Ling hurriedly demolishes the omelette on his plate in lieu of a reply. Jingyi exchanges looks with Zizhen but Sizhui pointedly stuffs a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth before he can press the matter.

The quartet finish their meals in record time and Jin Ling is halfway to the large double doors with Sizhui at his heels, not even waiting to see if Jingyi and Zizhen are behind him. The two lag behind and out of ear shot, whispering furiously at each other.

“We need to make like a banana and split!” Jingyi gestures to Sizhui and Jin Ling’s retreating backs.

“Should we tell them we’re busy? Set up a diversion? Fake an illness?” Zizhen lists possibilities with surprising speed and Jingyi feels a sense of pride well up in his chest, as if this were his influence (and it probably was). 

“I always carry some Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes for emergencies!” Jingyi takes an assortment of colorful candies out of his pockets. Zizhen is admittedly impressed by how prepared he always was to cause trouble.

“We’ll say you’re...not feeling well? Ate bad oatmeal? I don’t know but,” Zizhen says as he plucks the Fainting Fancies from Jingyi’s hand, “you eat this and I’ll pretend to take you to the hospital wing.”

“Why me?” Jingyi sticks out his closed fist. “Rock, paper, scissors, loser faints in front of Sizhui and Jin Ling.”

When Zizhen wins with scissors, he shrugs casually, “Maybe it’s karma for stunning Sizhui after the amortentia incident.”

“Or maybe you just want to hold me in your strong arms that badly,” Jingy winks and normally, Zizhen would’ve laughed or played along but suddenly, he realizes he might’ve fucked up because now, he’s going to have to carry Jingyi.  

Maybe he should’ve thrown the game. Is it even possible to purposely lose rock, paper, scissors?

He doesn’t have the time to dwell on it though, because they finally catch up to Jin Ling and Sizhui in the Entrance Hall. The former is impatiently shifting his weight from one foot to the other while the latter scans the area for signs of a Niffler.

“I was thinking we could start with—” Sizhui starts to say, but Zizhen cuts him off quickly.

“Actually, Jingyi’s feeling a little dizzy,” He lies as he tries to block Jingyi from view, buying him the time to swallow the bad half of the treat. “Maybe I should take him to Madam Wen.”

“He seems fine to me,” Jin Ling scoffs just as Jingyi collapses on the spot. Zizhen manages to catch him before his head can collide with the tiled floor, arms protectively encircling Jingyi’s waist. 

Sizhui blinks in disbelief and appraises Zizhen suspiciously, “Do you want help with Jingyi or…?”

“No!” Zizhen protests too quickly to be convincing, “it’s fine! You and Jin Ling go ahead. Leave Jingyi to me!”

Jin Ling gives Sizhui a look that clearly says, ‘are you seeing this shit?’ but he’s more worried about getting his stuff back to refuse.

“Well...if you say so,” Sizhui doesn’t seem at all fooled by whatever act Zizhen and Jingyi are trying to pull to get out of helping them but that’s a problem for another time, Zizhen tells himself.

“Good luck! Bye!” He smiles as winningly as he can, adjusting Jingyi so he’s holding him bridal style in his arms. Then, he rushes off as fast as he can in the wrong direction, away from the infirmary.

“What are they up to?” Jin Ling scowls, “They’ve been acting weird for weeks.” 

“I don’t know,” Sizhui says warily, “but we can deal with that after we track down that Niffler and retrieve your things.”

“Maybe we should get Fairy. She could hunt down a Niffler from a mile away.”

It’s endearing how proud Jin Ling sounds every time he talks about his dog, Sizhui thinks. All the softness and affection he tries so hard to hide seeps out when it comes to Fairy. 

“Good idea,” Sizhui readily agrees, “I was thinking we could also borrow some leprechaun gold to lure and trap it.”

“You always know what to do,” The sentence makes it past Jin Ling’s lips before he can stop himself. 

“Well, someone has to,” Sizhui teases but his smile is gentle, “I’ll meet you back here? It’ll be faster to split up.”

Jin Ling would rather walk Sizhui up to Gryffindor Tower and take a stroll down to Professor Wen’s hut just to spend more time together but the clock was ticking. He begrudgingly nods and they separate to cover more ground.

When they reconvene and the fool’s gold trap is set at the end of a desolate hallway, Jin Ling and Sizhui take Fairy to patrol the rest of the castle. She has her nose to the ground, following the Niffler’s scent trail, but Jin Ling is getting more and more restless as the hours go by.

“...What is it that you’re worried about losing?” Sizhui asks hesitantly, “I know you didn’t want to talk about it earlier and you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” 

There’s a lengthy pause before Jin Ling decides to answer. “It’s nothing. It’s just...well, it’s my clarity bell. My grandfather gave it to me when I got my Hogwarts letter. Everyone on my mom’s side of the family has one. It’s supposed to help us maintain calm and focus.”

“And it wasn’t anywhere to be found when you woke up?”

“I keep it beside my bed when I go to sleep,” Jin Ling shakes his head and quickens his pace to catch up to Fairy, “and it was missing after the Niffler went digging through my stuff.”

“We’ll find it,” Sizhui reaches out to squeeze his wrist reassuringly. 

As if on cue, Fairy stops in her tracks, barks fervently at Jin Ling, then bounds down the staircase to where they first started. Jin Ling brightens and slides his hand into Sizhui’s, pulling him eagerly towards the castle’s entryway. 

Just as they suspected, Fairy leads them to the net they laid. She growls at the black ball of fur dangling from the ceiling, seeming unbothered as it shoves the fake coins into its fluffy pouch. 

Jin Ling cuts the cord keeping the trap suspended and Sizhui catches the mesh bundle with ease, carefully picking the Niffler up by its hind legs so he can shake the contents of its pouch loose.

A couple of rings, one jade pendant, plenty of golden beads, three expensive watches, and a bunch of other shiny things that Jin Ling doesn’t recognize come tumbling onto the cold marble floor.

Jin Ling pockets what’s his and Sizhui holds out the silver clarity bell, engraved with a nine-petaled lotus, to him. 

“Told you we’d get it back,” He beams and Jin Ling can’t help but smile back a little. 

“Told you Fairy could find that little thief! She’s brilliant—” Jin Ling’s words die in his throat when he catches a glint of silver against the dark tile. He swiftly snatches it up, hiding it behind his back. 

He doesn’t even know why he bought the stupid thing anyway. He saw it during a summer shopping trip on display in one of the store windows. Zizhen had dragged him inside to look at some new robes and he impulsively purchased the comb on the way out.

It was delicately molded into the shape of a feather and Jin Ling remembers hearing his uncle’s voice in his head. A comb is a perfect gift, not too intimate but personal enough so that they’ll think of you when they use it.

Jiang Cheng is the last person Jin Ling should be taking romantic advice from, considering how it took him thirteen years to ask Professor Nie out to dinner, but the feather motif reminded him of their fourth year at Hogwarts and he couldn’t resist. 

Sizhui had gotten a snowy white feather stuck in his hair one afternoon after tending to his owl and Jin Ling had pointed it out. Sizhui reached up to pull it free and then, without warning, leaned in to tuck it into Jin Ling’s ponytail. He had flushed furiously and complained but Sizhui giggled softly and the light had hit his face just right, making his warm brown eyes sparkle. It was like time had slowed and Jin Ling lapsed into silence, dazed by Sizhui’s delighted grin. 

It struck him suddenly that there was little he wouldn’t do to see Sizhui smile like that again...and that was the exact moment that Jin Ling realized that he may or may not have caught feelings for one of his best friends, the stranger he had defended during Herbology two years ago just because he hated the sight of his downcast gaze and small frown.

Jin Ling hadn’t planned on ever actually giving the comb to Sizhui though, at least not until he found a good enough reason to, like his birthday or whatever holiday mandated presents. But, he remembers something his father told him once, that some moments will have his name on it and Jin Ling has to grab them before they slip out of his fingers.

There’s something about this moment, as imperfect and absurd as it was, that called to him. Sizhui has the Niffler cuddled safely in one arm and his free hand is stroking Fairy’s fur to stop her from pouncing on the rodent that just stole Jin Ling’s valuables. 

It’s far from romantic but Sizhui’s spent the past two hours of his free day helping him track a magical creature through a massive castle without even knowing how much the clarity bell means to Jin Ling and the comb suddenly weighs heavily in his sweaty palm. 

So, Jin Ling gathers whatever Gryffindor courage he has left in him and takes his father’s advice, thrusting the comb at Sizhui awkwardly. “I couldn’t have found it without you and—so...take it. As a thank you or as appreciation for your friendship or...because you’re always here when I need you to be and I-I’m glad? And because, I, um, I thought of you, I guess.”

Sizhui stares at him, wide-eyed, but takes the silver hair ornament from his hand. He opens his mouth to say something but the embarrassment hits Jin Ling like a racing broom to the gut. Rapidly turning on his heel, Jin Ling bolts from the corridor, barely remembering to whistle for Fairy to follow.

That was yet another thing he got from his father, he can practically hear his uncle snort.

⁓*⁓

“I’m officially out of ideas!” Jingyi’s voice is muffled by the pillow pressed against his face. He’s sprawled out on the soft mustard rug in the Hufflepuff common room. Zizhen sits beside him, cross-legged at the low coffee table. 

Their ‘magical matching manual’ is lying on the wooden surface, fifteen different options crossed out including one in which the Frog Choir serenades Jin Ling and Sizhui and another involving some of the resident ghosts holding fireworks. 

“Love, thou art more elusive than a summer breeze,” Zizhen laments only half-jokingly. “Maybe Sizhui and Jin Ling will get together naturally, at their own pace. It might not be the right time yet.”

Jingyi sends him a dubious look and shakes his head insistently, “We didn’t come this far to give up now! One more try. Sixth time’s the charm!”

“All right,” Zizhen relents, “I want to see this through too, but we don’t have a plan.”

“A-Qing!” Jingyi sits up quickly and snaps his fingers, “She might know what to do!”

When they somehow manage to catch A-Qing outside the Slytherin dungeon, it turns out that she does actually have a scheme up her sleeve...and a brilliant one at that. 

“Just lock them in a room together and leave them there until they confess,” She deadpans. “It’s a classic move and it’s really simple. Even you two can’t screw it up.”

Jingyi opens his mouth to try and defend himself but thinks better of it. Instead, he grins roguishly in the least Lan-like way possible. “That’s brilliant. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“What about the Astronomy Tower?” Zizhen suggests, starry-eyed. “We can set up some blankets, bring some food, and convince them to sneak up there with us. Then, we ditch them and they can cuddle and stargaze together.” He sighs dreamily, “it’ll be so romantic.”

A-Qing rolls her eyes but Jingyi thinks it’s a little endearing how invested he is in all of this. He makes a mental note to keep an eye out for Zizhen’s potential love interest. Maybe when all of this was over, he could find Zizhen someone who makes him laugh and leaves him cute notes where he least expects them.

For a second, Jingyi wonders if he’d be willing to do that. Hold Zizhen’s hand as they snuck out to explore the castle. Take him to Hogsmeade, find them a quiet little booth at the Three Broomsticks, and pay for his drink. Write sappy love letters every Sunday just to see Zizhen smile.

But, no. That was silly, because it’s not like Jingyi felt that way about Zizhen, his partner in crime, the hopeless romantic of their group, his best friend...right?

“I think the sky is clear and it’s a full moon on Friday night,” Zizhen’s remark tugs Jingyi back to reality, “think we can have everything set up by then?”

“Of course we can!” Jingyi says. “What do you take me for? An amateur?” 

A-Qing’s raised eyebrow tells him that that’s exactly what she thinks, so Jingyi pretends he doesn’t notice.

⁓*⁓

Just as Zizhen promises, the sky is perfect for stargazing. There isn’t a cloud in sight obscuring the inky heavens and if Jingyi could remember anything from his astronomy classes, he might even be able to point out some constellations.

Zizhen looks up from laying down a checkered picnic blanket and fluffing throw pillows, gesturing to one of the stars twinkling above them.

“Polaris is bright tonight,” He comments smoothly, “but it doesn’t sparkle quite like your smile.”

Jingyi knows Zizhen’s kidding. He’s the kind of person who sees latte art and says it reminds him of Jingyi’s eyes with no romantic notions intended. They’re friends, so of course it’s meant to be playful. He’s not actually flirting with Jingyi...so, why did he feel almost disappointed?

“I don’t know, I think the sky’s actually kind of dark,” Jingyi recovers and shrugs nonchalantly. Zizhen raises an eyebrow at him and he continues, “maybe it’s because all the stars are in your eyes.”

Zizhen tilts his head back and laughs. “You stole that line from me!” 

“I borrowed it from the master himself,” Jingyi is just about to playfully throw one of the pillows spread out around them at him when the door creaks open, revealing a confused Jin Ling.

“What’s all this?” He casts a dubious look at the blankets and picnic basket, stuffed with an assortment of snacks Jingyi had gotten from the house elves. 

There are candles enchanted to float near them, providing some more light, and admittedly, the atmosphere is a little more romantic than usual. In Jingyi’s defense, at least he had been able to make it subtler by talking Zizhen out of strewing rose petals and heart-shaped confetti on the floor.

“Since when were you two into astronomy anyway?” Jin Ling goes on when he doesn’t receive an answer, joining them on the picnic blanket and cracking open a bottle of Butterbeer. 

“I heard it was going to be a nice night,” Zizhen fiddles with his fingers, anxiously glancing at the entry for Sizhui’s arrival. “I wanted to fall asleep under the stars together, like that one Halloween in our fourth year.”

At the mention of old memories, Jin Ling relaxes and sinks back into one of the cushions. Even he couldn’t protest when Zizhen was being sentimental. Jingyi tries to keep up a running conversation while they wait for A-Qing to bring Sizhui but Zizhen’s power to soften up Jin Ling is wearing off slowly but surely. Jin Ling is just about to lose interest in staring at the moon when Sizhui appears with A-Qing at his heels.

Once he crosses the threshold, A-Qing smirks and slams the door shut with a, “Good luck with the love birds! You owe me!” Then, there’s the meaningful sound of a lock clicking into place.

“Did she just—” Jin Ling says at the same time that Sizhui asks, “what is going on?”

Jingyi and Zizhen spring to their feet quickly and Jingyi reaches over to grab his broomstick, propped against the stone wall. Zizhen tosses Sizhui a rolled up scroll and moves towards the edge of the tower.

“You know how we’ve been acting weird for a while now?” He explains slowly and Sizhui’s eyebrows furrow as he nods.

“We’ve been trying to set you two up,” Jingyi says bluntly, “but you know how well that went. So, we asked A-Qing for advice and she said we should just lock you two up together until you sort it out.”

“We’re really sorry for putting you both through all of that—”

“Except we’re not because we did mean well.”

“Jingyi!” Zizhen scolds, not firmly enough to be convincing. Neither of them notice Jin Ling’s flaming cheeks or Sizhui’s expression of disbelief. 

“What? I was just being honest. The pining was getting really old. It’s been how many years already?” Jingyi mutters but Zizhen cuts him off with an elbow to the ribs. 

“Anyway,” He interrupts, “that’s our cue to leave you to it. Please just make out in the moonlight already. You two deserve to be happy.”

“And we deserve to be put out of our misery,” Jingyi adds unhelpfully as he clambers onto his broom, adjusting himself so Zizhen can climb on behind him. When Zizhen has his arms firmly wrapped around his middle, Jingyi grins and waves as they fly over the parapet and disappear into the night.

The silence is palpable and the tension hangs like a thick shroud over the remaining two. Jin Ling clutches the corner of a pillow, knuckles white, and Sizhui tucks a strand of hair out of his face nervously.

“So—” He begins at the same time that Jin Ling says, “Um…”

They pause awkwardly, trying to let the other one go first. Jin Ling is looking everywhere but directly at him and Sizhui sits down stiffly, unsure of how to proceed.

“What did Zizhen give you?” Jin Ling eventually asks, glancing at the paper in Sizhui’s hand. He unrolls it and brings it closer to the candle light so he can read the writing better.

“It says, ‘Zizhen and Jingyi’s Magical Matching Manual’ and there are all these checked off and crossed out ideas. Amortentia, attempted. Polyjuice Potion, no. Pushing Jin Ling into the Black Lake, no. It goes on for another twenty points.”

“They were going to push me into the Black Lake?” Jin Ling splutters indignantly, reaching out to snatch the scroll.

“Well, Jingyi did attempt to shove you into the Whomping Willow so I would save you…” 

“I can’t believe they put us through three humiliating situations and two life-threatening scenarios all to get us together!” Jin Ling doesn’t look up from behind the paper but Sizhui can hear how flustered he is under all that disbelief and irritation.

“And none of it worked,” Sizhui tries to keep the disappointment out of his voice and judging by the unreadable expression on Jin Ling’s face, he thankfully must not have given anything away.

Another bout of silence hangs between them and Sizhui thinks back to every moment Jingyi and Zizhen had set up to get them to reveal their feelings. 

Jin Ling copying notes for him after he spent an entire day wandering around like a lovesick puppy. How distracted he was the entire Quidditch match and the way he had sulked for two days after Sizhui told him his ideal type. His eyes fluttering shut when Sizhui tried to lean down and kiss him. The sincerity in his eyes when he told Sizhui how much he meant to him...and the comb. 

The glittering silver comb, fashioned in the shape of a feather, had been lying among Jin Ling’s belongings. It couldn’t have been his because Jin Ling never wore anything other than gold. Had he gotten that specifically for Sizhui and...how long ago? He hadn’t even let Sizhui say anything before he ran off and they hadn’t spoken about the incident since. 

Slowly, all the puzzle pieces clicked into place. Every one of Zizhen, Jingyi, and A-Qing’s schemes. Jin Ling’s blushes and awkward yet achingly sincere gestures. Suddenly, all of the tension between them Sizhui insisted he was just projecting and the stolen looks he swore he imagined pointed to one conclusion and one alone.

“We’re idiots,” He breathes, almost to himself.

“Hey! I’m not—” Jin Ling’s argument dies in his throat when Sizhui closes the distance and finally, finally, finally kisses him.

At first, it’s a stiff, clumsy press of lips and neither of them move for a second. Jin Ling starts to panic, ready to pull away, when Sizhui tilts his head a little to the side and opens his mouth slightly. Jin Ling’s bottom lip catches between Sizhui’s teeth and any remaining rational thought throws itself off the Astronomy Tower as his groan gets muffled against Sizhui’s mouth.

All Jin Ling can think about is wonderful, brilliant, breathtaking Lan Sizhui, whose lips are impossibly soft and whose hair feels like silk between his fingers. He tastes like peppermint tea and smells like spring rain—the same comforting aroma he remembers from the Amortentia they brewed all those weeks ago—and Jin Ling can’t believe he didn’t do this sooner.

When they pull away, flushed and breathless, the moonlight bathes Sizhui in an ethereal silver glow and Jin Ling nearly kisses him again because there’s just no way he’s real. Jin Ling reaches out and intertwines their fingers, half-expecting Sizhui to disappear in a puff of smoke, but all he does is smile and squeeze Jin Ling’s hand.

That’s when Jin Ling notices it.

“You’re wearing the comb,” He says, dumbstruck. Sizhui unconsciously reaches up to touch the gleaming silver ornament in his slightly disheveled top knot. 

“Of course I am. Someone I’ve been in love with for three years gave it to me.” Amusement dances in Sizhui’s eyes and it’s Jin Ling’s turn to close the distance, pressing a kiss to his upturned lips.

“I’ve liked you longer,” Jin Ling points out stubbornly as he drags Sizhui down with him into the nest of sheets and pillows.

“It’s not a competition, A-Ling,” Sizhui reminds him with a chuckle. Before Jin Ling can even try to answer, he’s silenced for the second time by a pair of invitingly warm lips, gentle hands undoing the tie in his hair and cupping his cheek. 

They stay cuddled up with their fingers laced together under the stars and Jin Ling thinks maybe, just maybe, the three humiliating situations and two life-threatening scenarios were worth it. 

When Sizhui falls asleep with an arm around Jin Ling’s waist and his face nuzzled against his neck, Jin Ling finally begrudgingly agrees with Sir William Shakespeare. All’s well that ends well (and perhaps he owed Zizhen and Jingyi after all).