Archive of Our Own

* 7th Year * 

Wooyoung’s parents missed their childhood. When they said they wished they did something, anything different, their words never really sunk in. But now, Wooyoung knew exactly what they meant. Time wasn’t refundable, and Wooyoung hadn’t quite mastered the art of living with no regrets. 

Even with time turners locked up in the Department of Mysteries, Wooyoung would never get his years back at Hogwarts. He would never relive the thrill of Quidditch—specifically with his Gryffindor team, with wind bellowing past his ears and the shouts of students to match. He would never relive the lush feasts and lazy afternoons that came with long hours of study and English weather. Learning easy spells for the first time was a magic in itself, and even that was lost in the wind, unknown spells now few and far between. 

But worst of all, he would never relive his early years with Seonghwa. 

Now he, too, wished he did something, anything different.

* 2nd Year * 

The Gryffindor common room was usually packed at this time—tables strewn with old textbooks and fire muted by chatter in the room. But now, Wooyoung hung upside down on one of the couches, legs hooked over the back. He stared at the fireplace as it simmered in the corner, waiting for Jongho to escape his Charms class. 

It was quiet, almost too quiet. 

It was like the calm after a big Quidditch game, the small reprise from both celebration and schoolwork. It was like the night after a big feast, students falling asleep in quiet dormitories with full bellies and content smiles. 

Except now, Wooyoung had no idea why it was so calm. He itched to go do something. Jongho promised they would jinx the portraits in the hallways after his class, but, as Wooyoung was beginning to realize, Jongho was a no-show.

Wooyoung grumbled under his breath, wondering where the heck all his friends and classmates had gone. All their core classes should be done by now. The common room should be swarmed with familiar faces and bubbly laughter. Wooyoung felt cheated as he glared at the fireplace. 

With a sigh, he swung back up, already regretting allowing himself to hang upside down for so long. He blinked and waited for the rush of blood to stop hammering at his skull. 

His robes were wrinkled to no end, and he left his shirt untucked and rumpled. Still, he didn’t let that deter him from stretching up and making his way out of the common room. 

Jongho’s Charms class was on the third floor of Hogwarts. It was quite a ways from Gryffindor tower, which increased the chances of running into staff or a prefect. He learned from past mistakes that running into them would get him spelled into a more orderly appearance—and after, he’d spend the whole day with a migraine—so he avoided the main corridors and took back stair ways, clutching for dear life at the railings as the staircases moved. Even after a year and a half of moving stairs, he still hadn’t gotten used to it. 

He made his way through the corridors, breathing sighs of relief when his feet hit solid, stationary ground. The portraits snickered at him, and he mentally cursed Jongho for not showing up to help him jinx them. Maybe they could do it later tonight or over the weekend. 

The only sound in the hallways were Wooyoung’s footsteps, padding lightly against the stone floors. Had he forgotten an important event? Wooyoung wouldn’t put it past himself—he had a habit of neglecting the school schedule in favor of his own whims. Jongho usually was the one to remind him of these things. As Wooyoung walked, a slight frown formed on his face. 

But as he forged ahead, the faint chatter of students finally reached his ears, and he breathed a small sigh of relief. It drifted from the first floor, where the Great Hall lay open and inviting. Wooyoung dropped his venture to the Charms hallway in favor of seeing what the hubbub was about. He hoped his uniform wouldn’t look too disheveled among the other students down there, but at the same time, he convinced himself he didn’t really care. 

He finally spotted students as he drew closer, talking among their tight circles of friends, robes boasting the colors of their houses. It was always yellows with the yellows, greens with the greens, and so on. Houses rarely intermingled, and when they did, new rumors would always pop up. At least, that was the impression Wooyoung got from his first year there. Maybe it’d be different as he grew older. 

He ran a quick hand through his hair, trying his best to comb it into a semblance of decency. He thankfully hadn’t run across any professors, but he knew that would change as he grew closer. The students barely cast him a glance, already used to his usual antics. 

The Great Hall was packed, and it seemed like the whole school had shown up, though Wooyoung knew that wasn’t true. It was mostly the underclassmen, all sparkly eyed and brimming with excitement. The school year had just started, and the Hogwarts novelties hadn’t worn off for the newcomers just yet. Honestly, they hadn’t even worn off for Wooyoung yet. He pushed through and tried to find the source of all the excitement. 

It didn’t take too long to discover it. Honestly, he shouldn’t have been surprised at all. In the middle of it all, a familiar head of raven hair stood out. He wore blue trimmed robes, and his eyes were skittish as he looked over the crowd that had gathered. Even from a distance, Wooyoung could see him worrying his bottom lip, cheeks still pudgy in his second year at school. 

Of course it was Seonghwa. Who else could cause all this commotion without garnering the teachers’ attention? Only Seonghwa could get away with something like this.

Only Seonghwa. 

Wooyoung rolled his eyes and searched for another familiar face. Jongho was shorter than most, but stocky and strong. He shouldn’t be too hard to find, and then, Wooyoung would actually have an idea of what’s going on. 

Wooyoung shuffled his way past other students. He assumed Jongho would be there, but he was still annoyed by how Jongho ditched him for whatever Seonghwa had cooked up here. The least Jongho owed was an explanation. 

Jongho was closer to the front of the crowd, staring over at Seonghwa with wide, bright eyes. Wooyoung had to shove several people to get closer, mumbled apologies on his lips. This had better be worth the effort to come all the way down from Gryffindor Tower. 

As Wooyoung sidled up to Jongho, he finally got a good look at what was happening. Seonghwa stood in front of a Slytherin boy, obviously nervous by all the attention he drew. Wooyoung tried not to roll his eyes again—what did Seonghwa expect? As much as Wooyoung hated to admit it, he was a pretty big deal. Here was just another addition to his list of ‘Infuriating Seonghwa Things’ he had to live with.

“You didn’t show up.” Wooyoung’s voice was accusatory as he watched Jongho from the corner of his eye. 

“Something interesting came up.” Jongho nodded ahead. 

Now, people were moving back to give Seonghwa and the Slytherin boy a little more room. The tables that usually adorned the Great Hall were moved away, likely with magic, and the space suddenly felt a lot larger. Now that Wooyoung stood near the front, he could see that there actually weren’t as many people there as he thought. But still, it was a sizable crowd. 

Seonghwa caught his eye for a split second before averting his gaze, and Wooyoung narrowed his eyes. 

“Jongho, what’s going on here?” 

“A duel. Not sure why, but Seonghwa is fighting someone. Can you believe it?” 

“What!?”

  Wooyoung’s eyes bugged out of his head, mouth agape. 

There was no way.  

Jongho gave him an unimpressed look, and Wooyoung groaned. That was it—his day was ruined now. Of all things that could have happened today... 

He glared at the Slytherin boy now facing Seonghwa. There wasn’t anything particularly special about him. But how did he do it? What was Seonghwa’s last straw? Seonghwa didn’t look angry at him, just painfully awkward as usual, so why was he dueling his boy and not him? 

They drew their wands and turned their backs. Even without teachers, Seonghwa followed formal dueling rules. Curiosity replaced Wooyoung’s initial spike of jealousy as he watched. 

The two students began walking away from each other, taking small, careful steps. Seonghwa’s wand shook in his hand. Wooyoung counted that as a small victory. 

Wooyoung didn’t know who to root for as they turned back to face each other. The room was quiet, everyone frozen to see who would throw the first spell. All the while, his thoughts raced, trying to puzzle out what this small Slytherin boy did to push Seonghwa over the edge. 

The boy threw a poorly made ‘Stupefy,’ his body stiff, but eyes determined. On its own, the spell wasn’t very good, but they weren’t supposed to learn it until fourth or fifth year, and Wooyoung was begrudgingly impressed. He would have been even more so if Seonghwa hadn’t blocked it with ease. Once again, Wooyoung shouldn’t be surprised. Seonghwa probably knew a whole slew of defensive spells from his father. 

Seonghwa worked up a Tickling Charm, one of the lesser aggressive spells used in duels (at least, to Wooyoung’s knowledge), and the Slytherin unfortunately didn’t know a counter-curse for it. The duel was short-lived, and the excitement quickly died down. Wooyoung didn’t know what the others were expecting, though he took mental notes to study up on counter-curses for that particular charm. 

Seonghwa left the Slytherin to dissolve in a fit of hysterics on the floor, pained laughter bouncing off the walls. He stalked out of the room, avoiding everyone’s gaze. Wooyoung watched him leave with narrowed eyes. 

Jongho grabbed onto Wooyoung’s shoulder with a slight squeeze. 

“You still want to duel him?” 

“More than anything.” 

* 1st Year * 

The first time he heard of Seonghwa, he was exploring the castle in his first week of school. He knew of Seonghwa’s father already—everyone did, but it was the first time he heard of his son. 

Seonghwa's father had done incredible work for the Ministry of Magic. For years, he had always seen the name ‘Park Daeseong’ sprawled across the front page of The Daily Prophet, and, well, he has always been a curious kid. Daeseong was one of the most renowned aurors, constantly doing dirty work to catch the Wizarding World’s nastiest criminals. That’s how his parents had put it when he first asked about it. 

So yes, Wooyoung knew of Seonghwa’s father, and his excitement for Flying Class only grew when he found out he and Seonghwa would be partners for the year. 

It was a short-lived excitement, quickly replaced with anxiety when he heard Seonghwa’s name whispered in the corridors he lurked past. The school was still a maze to him; the moving staircases felt like death machines when he stepped onto them, and he swore every time he thought he knew where he was, he’d turn the corner and get completely lost again. The first few days of classes were horrible, and he had hoped some quick exploring would help him figure out the intricacies of the castle within few hours. 

That wasn’t working out very well for him. 

But that was also when he first met Jongho, so it wasn’t a complete loss. 

Jongho wore the same red trimmed robes as him, and his hair was dark like Wooyoung’s. He had a cute face, and he stood much shorter. They got along incredibly fast. 

Jongho had that same dazed look in his eyes, and Wooyoung picked him out as another first year, just as lost and confused as he was. They were supposed to ask the prefects for help, but Wooyoung was a ‘do-it-yourself’ kind of kid. He hated asking for help, and banding with another kid wasn’t as bad as admitting to getting lost. 

Except Jongho wasn’t exploring the castle like Wooyoung. No, he was trying to get a glimpse of the famed Park Seonghwa.

“What’s so special about him?” At that point, Wooyoung hadn’t told Jongho about the partner assignments for Flying Class. The scroll showed up at Gryffindor Tower on his second day with information about all of his classes, including details about coursework, flying partners, etc., and the first Flying Class was tomorrow. He hoped Seonghwa wouldn’t be stuck up or scary, but all this talk of him was intimidating to say the least. 

Jongho gave him a strange look. “His dad is like, my hero. I want to be an auror like him when I get out of here.” 

Wooyoung hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. Career plans were so far out there that he hadn’t even considered his options yet, let alone pick one out and work for it. 

“I don’t see what the big deal is.” 

Jongho sighed. “Park Daeseong is a really big deal. Seonghwa must be awesome.” 

That didn’t help with Wooyoung’s apprehension to meet him. 

After wandering around, they found themselves on the ground floor. Wooyoung grinned when they came across a familiar courtyard, finally somewhere he somewhat recognized. 

It was late afternoon then, the sun beating down on them when they stepped out from under the shaded alcoves. Even at the cusp of fall, it was still hot and humid, especially in their dark robes. Wooyoung wondered if there was a cooling charm he could learn to take the brunt of the heat. 

Jongho sat on one of the benches, a look of defeat on his face. They hadn’t come across Seonghwa, but Wooyoung was sure he’d turn up, eventually. After all, they were going to be partners for an entire year starting tomorrow. Wooyoung didn’t know how that was going to work, or what he even needed a partner for in flying lessons. The scroll said it was a new system to encourage cross-house friendships among first years. 

He vaguely remembered seeing Seonghwa at the Sorting Ceremony. His face was blank the entire time, and he didn’t look surprised to get put into Ravenclaw. Wooyoung didn’t have an opinion of him then, but he had a feeling that would change soon. 

And it did, because on the day of his first Flying Class, Seonghwa never showed up. 

Jongho was in the class too, and Wooyoung begged to be partners with him, but the professor wouldn’t allow it, and he was stuck with Madam Hooch as his partner for the day.

Next week, he’d catch quaffles Madam Hooch hurled at him for an hour. 

And the week after that, he’d race against Madam Hooch for an hour. 

And by the end of the month, he was Madam Hooch’s guinea pig for trick demonstrations. 

He had enough, and he was sick of Seonghwa not showing up to class. The professors and staff did nothing to discipline him. He just… kept skipping, and Wooyoung was on the brink of setting the score straight himself. 

He had never talked to Seonghwa before then. It was all curious glances from a distance, slowly morphing into glares as time went on. Jongho’s hero worship thankfully died down when he realized how upset Wooyoung was beginning to get over all of this. What made it worse was how Seonghwa only skipped flight class. Wooyoung didn’t have any other classes with him, but according to other students, Seonghwa was the top student in every other subject. Wooyoung wanted to bust a wall open every time he heard about it. 

It was like Seonghwa was taunting him, and Wooyoung could only take so many hours of Madam Hooch’s freaky yellow hawk eyes peering at him. 

So yeah, he planned a confrontation. 

Seonghwa studied in the library every day after his last class, so it was easy to find him. Wooyoung had pieces of grass stuck in his hair from Madam Hooch’s latest assignment. He had tried to complete it without her help, but the partners were there for a reason, and, well, he didn’t go to the infirmary like he was supposed to. 

Seonghwa had books sprawled across a table, his quill scratching fervently against parchment. The library was quiet that day, as a few classes were still in session, and most students went straight to hang outs and dorms after the school day. Seonghwa didn’t look up when Wooyoung approached him, and he even ignored him when Wooyoung cleared his throat to get his attention. 

That was it. Wooyoung snapped Seonghwa’s book closed and plucked the quill out of his hand, fuming. 

Seonghwa sighed and glanced up at him with an annoyed look. It was the first time Wooyoung ever got a good look at his face. His eyes were big and round, cheeks pudgy and dark hair slicked back like an old cartoon villain. His clothes were neatly pressed, no wrinkles in sight, and that only infuriated Wooyoung more. 

Seonghwa didn’t say anything, and Wooyoung struggled to find the words to confront him as Seonghwa’s eyes skitted across his face silently. 

“You have a lot of explaining to do,” Wooyoung seethed, but the words lacked the bite he hoped to have. 

Seonghwa raised a delicate brow. “I’m sorry?” His voice was incredibly soft, and even a few feet away, Wooyoung smelled a faint waft of peppermint on his breath. 

Wooyoung wrinkled his nose. This was the boy everyone’s been so crazy about? Sure, his dad may be awesome, but Seonghwa definitely wasn’t worthy of Jongho’s adoration. Wooyoung was going to be sick. 

“I said, you have some explaining to do.” Wooyoung hissed the words under his breath to avoid drawing attention to them. Lord knows Seonghwa did that enough just by existing.  

“I’m sorry, who are you?” 

Wooyoung was going to go insane. 

“I’m Jung Wooyoung. Your flying partner.”  

“Oh.” Seonghwa gave a tight-lipped smile. “How’s that going then? Is it fun?” 

Wooyoung was going to strangle this boy. 

“It’d be a lot more fun if you actually showed up.” 

Seonghwa looked away with a grimace. “Ah. Sorry about that.” He stared at Wooyoung, not seeming to process the rage growing on his face. “Can I have my quill back now?” 

Wooyoung almost snapped it in half right then and there. 

“No, you cannot.” 

Seonghwa’s brows furrowed. “I have work to do.” 

What kid spent their free time doing work? 

Now, when Wooyoung ‘planned’ this confrontation, he didn’t actually… plan it. What did he want to do? Threaten Seonghwa to come to class? Take his frustrations out on him? 

Or he could steal his stuff? Or challenge him to a duel? That’ll put Seonghwa in his place, surely. The threatening option didn’t actually seem that bad. 

“I’m keeping this quill until you come to Flying Class.” 

Seonghwa stared at him, and in the back of his mind, Wooyoung knew this argument wasn’t going to go anywhere. Was this even an argument? It seemed way too one-sided for Wooyoung’s liking. 

But Wooyoung wasn’t backing down. He dropped the quill into the pockets of his robes, never breaking his gaze. 

When he realized Wooyoung was being serious, Seonghwa sighed and leaned down, grabbing a bag Wooyoung didn’t see earlier. It was extremely posh, probably from a famous name brand in the Muggle world. Seonghwa grumbled under his breath and pulled another quill from its depths. 

Well, that wouldn’t do. At least Wooyoung got a free quill. 

“Okay then… duel! If I win, you have to come to class.” Wooyoung felt really good about his chances of winning. Even in a month, he had learned a lot, and Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts were his best subjects. He could take on Seonghwa and get out unscathed and with a flying partner. 

“No.” 

“No?” 

Seonghwa shrugged. “I don’t get anything out of it, and I’m not going.” He smiled up at Wooyoung, but averted his gaze under Wooyoung’s glare. “Don’t worry, the class is only required for a year. I’m sure the professor could get you another partner, anyway.” 

Wooyoung was fuming. 

“Do you hear yourself right now? The class is required! Required. What? Did your dad bribe your way out of it?” 

Seonghwa narrowed his eyes, and Wooyoung felt like he touched a nerve.

Good.  

“You know, your father is the only reason people like you. You’re a stuck up turd.”  

Now, that wasn’t as good. Wooyoung thought he was getting somewhere earlier when Seonghwa’s face slowly morphed into anger, but after that poorly thought out line, Seonghwa broke out into a smile again, eyes soft. 

“Have fun in Flying Class.” 

.

After becoming friends with Jongho, Wooyoung had discreetly swapped dorm rooms with another Gryffindor to stay with him. Late night talks were common for them then, and it became one of Wooyoung’s favorite parts of the day. 

Seonghwa was a common topic. Wooyoung would complain endlessly about him, and Jongho would listen and point out flaws in Wooyoung’s logic, like— 

“If he were really trying to murder you, then you’d already be dead.” 

Or-

“Dumbledore wouldn’t except any bribes, even if it came from Park Daeseong.” 

Or- 

“You’re talking like you have a crush on a schoolgirl. It’s not that big of a deal.” 

And lastly, the very simple- 

“You’re mental.” 

And honestly, Wooyoung didn’t mind the betrayal because he knew he was overreacting too. That was, until the next Flying Class/subsequent infirmary visit, and the return of the ever present ‘I hate Seonghwa’ phase. 

The other problem was that Wooyoung actually liked flying. In fact, he liked it very much. Muggle stories always depicted witches as old shriveled women flying on broomsticks with green skin and pointy hats. Wooyoung would gladly become a green-skinned monstrosity if it meant he could fly out of this school and away from Madam Hooch’s constant nagging. 

And he was good at it. He may even have a good chance of joining the Quidditch team in a year or two. 

But he never got to show off much because Seonghwa never showed up. 

The library visits became frequent. Wooyoung was beginning to think Seonghwa had an endless supply of quills in his bag, considering how many Wooyoung had stolen from him. In Wooyoung’s opinion, it was a perfectly good system: if he had to suffer through class on his own, then Seonghwa could cross off one expensive supply off of Wooyoung’s expenses. 

Seonghwa just straight up ignored him now, which was irritating. It took tons of effort to grab his attention, his nose always buried in his books. Wooyoung even brought Jongho one time, and the traitor joined in on ignoring him and somehow got Seonghwa to talk to him for half an hour. Wooyoung had a very long rant planned for that night, and Jongho listened in as he always did with a raised brow and a slight smile. 

And trust him, Wooyoung did the most.  

There were a few rare moments when Wooyoung thought Seonghwa might actually accept a duel challenge, when anger flashed in his eyes and his face turned red. There was that one time Wooyoung called him a Mudblood, and Seonghwa looked really confused and upset over it. 

To be fair, Wooyoung didn’t know what the word meant—he just thought it was another insult he heard in passing in the halls. When Jongho explained it to him that night, Wooyoung almost went down to apologize right then and there. Seonghwa wasn’t even Muggle-born, so that explained the confusion. The next day, Wooyoung didn’t go to bother him in the library. 

But he did return when, in class that week, Madam Hooch had to catch him when he fell off his broom. 

Mortifying. 

Wooyoung wondered what it would be like if it were Seonghwa’s arms that caught him instead of his professor’s. Wooyoung probably would have squashed him like a bug. Now that would have been funny. 

In the end, Seonghwa didn’t attend one flying lesson, and Wooyoung never got his duel. He did, however, get twenty-three brand new quills and a bruised ego for his efforts. 

* 2nd Year * 

So, needless to say, Wooyoung was upset when Seonghwa accepted a duel challenge in the beginning of second year. 

After that, he thought nothing could get worse. But Wooyoung’s life was a circus where he was the clown and the universe was the audience, sitting and laughing at him. 

Wooyoung saw him one week after Seonghwa’s duel. 

Kim Hongjoong hadn’t changed one bit since that summer. The last time Wooyoung saw that face, Hongjoong was painting color across old white shirts spread out across his ratty front yard. Wooyoung never thought he’d ever see him at Hogwarts, laughing with his archrival and sporting robes with blue accents. 

Hongjoong and Seonghwa were across the corridor, not yet aware of his presence, and Wooyoung didn’t know if he wanted it to stay that way or not. 

Hongjoong was a menace, that was for sure. But with Seonghwa? 

How did Hongjoong even get here? Wooyoung didn’t know he had magic. For all he knew, Hongjoong was just his Muggle neighbor with odd habits and funny jokes. 

“Wooyoung!” 

Ah. Well.

“Hongjoong?” 

Wooyoung walked over and plastered on a smile. 

Seonghwa’s cheeks reddened, and he looked away. “You two know each other?” 

“Oh, I’ve known Wooyoung since he was in diapers.” 

Yeah, this was a very, very bad situation. 

Wooyoung’s smile grew wide and almost entirely fake. “Hongjoong, what are you doing here?” 

Hongjoong had a glint in his eyes, and Wooyoung knew his Hogwarts life was about to get a lot more interesting. 

“I didn’t fit in very well at Durmstrang. I transferred.” 

Wooyoung gaped at him. “Is that even possible? And you.. have magic?” 

“Obviously.” 

Wooyoung was going to hide in the kitchen’s cupboards and never come out. 

“Wooyoung, do you know Seonghwa?” Hongjoong asked, oblivious to Wooyoung’s inner turmoil. 

“Unfortunately,” Wooyoung frowned, finally breaking his smile. 

Seonghwa looked away. 

Hongjoong raised a brow and threw an arm around Seonghwa’s shoulder. “This seems like a happy relationship,” he said. “What did Wooyoung do to you? Because I know it’s his fault.” 

Yep, it was time to leave.

Wooyoung turned to march away, but Hongjoong latched onto his sleeve with an evil grin, and Wooyoung knew it was all over. Hongjoong’s sole purpose in life was to humiliate him—in front of his parents, his friends, and now Seonghwa of all people. They used to go to the same Muggle school, and while they became close friends, Hongjoong loved to poke fun at him and find little embarrassing nuggets to latch onto. He was like a nagging older brother, even though they were relatively close to the same age. Wooyoung did not want him hanging around Seonghwa. He itched to throw Hongjoong on a boat himself and ship him back to their hometown. Maybe that would save him the mortification. 

“It’s somewhat my fault,” Seonghwa muttered. “But yeah, mostly him.”

“Just Wooyoung being Wooyoung?” Hongjoong reached up and pinched Wooyoung’s cheek. “I have so many fun Wooyoung stories if you’d like to hear them.” 

It hadn’t even been ten minutes, and Hongjoong was already out to get him. 

But Seonghwa had spent an entire year ignoring Wooyoung’s presence. Surely he wouldn’t-

“Oh, definitely! I’d love to hear them.” 

Wooyoung’s eye twitched. 

Hongjoong lit up, obviously excited to humiliate him for the thousandth time. “Well, have you ever heard of Donald Duck?” 

Oh god.

“Hongjoong-”  

Seonghwa shook his head, a small smile on his lips. 

“Well, imagine an annoying duck in a sailor suit,” Hongjoong said. 

“Annoying?” Wooyoung gaped at him. 

“Sounds about right,” Seonghwa grinned, teeth flashing and eyes scrunched up. “If this is going in the direction I think it is.” 

“I’m bad at Muggle holidays,” Wooyoung groaned. He tried to pull away, but Hongjoong hooked his other arm around his shoulders, caging both him and Seonghwa to his sides. 

“Wizards celebrate Halloween too. You can’t use that excuse.” 

Other students were giving them odd looks as they walked past, some grumbling under their breath as they swerved around them. Wooyoung desperately wanted to take this out of the hallway. 

“So… Wooyoung dressed as a duck for Halloween?” Seonghwa’s smile almost looked pained now. 

“Worse. He showed up at school dressed up a week early. I had a cute duckie Wooyoung to hang out with for a very not-Halloween school day.” 

Seonghwa stared past Hongjoong at Wooyoung, and he had to keep himself from fidgeting under his gaze. Wooyoung could see Seonghwa imagining it, peeling back the robes with his eyes and putting him in that dumb outfit. It was an honest mistake—seven-year-old Wooyoung was so excited to get a new Halloween costume, and parents thought it was too funny to tell him he read the calendar wrong. They didn’t take the trauma into account when they sent him to school that day.  

And Hongjoong thought it was hilarious. 

“A sailor duck, huh?” Seonghwa was trying so hard not to laugh. 

Hongjoong tched. “An annoying one.” 

And then Seonghwa giggled. He giggled. Wooyoung was done with this. 

If Seonghwa and Hongjoong became friends, Wooyoung was done. He’d transfer schools, maybe give Durmstrang a try. He didn’t know how it worked, but he could get through it. He’d take Jongho with him. It’d be fine. 

“Do you have anymore stories?” Seonghwa chirped up. 

It was time to pack his trunk. 

.

Wooyoung met San two days later. 

He had caught his name floating around, and it was easy enough to recognize him, The first time they crossed paths in the corridors, Wooyoung immediately grabbed the back of his robes and hauled him into an empty classroom. They needed to have an important conversation. 

“How d’you do it?” Wooyoung narrowed his eyes at him and crossed his arms. He tried to make himself look intimidating. 

He wasn’t.

“Excuse me? Who are you?” 

“How did you get Seonghwa to duel you?” 

A pause, and then a loud groan. 

“Please don’t remind me of that. I was dying of embarrassment,” San winced and tried to skip past him, but Wooyoung barred his exit. 

“How d’you get him to duel you? What did you do?” 

San stared at him, deadpan. “There are easier ways to get his attention, you know, like being nice.” 

“Please answer the question.” 

San crossed his arms, mirroring Wooyoung’s position with a raised brow. “I asked. I didn’t have to do anything. He was happy to indulge me.” 

Wooyoung gaped at him. “Surely you did something to make him upset.”

San shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you.” 

Huh. So Seonghwa really was messing with him, and him specifically. All San had to do was ask? What shit.  

San slipped out of the room as Wooyoung processed this. Seonghwa would accept a random challenge from a random kid for no reason, and Wooyoung has practically begged him for a duel. 

“What a jerk!” he vented out into the empty room. 

Outside, the portraits laughed.

.

To be fair, there were worse things Seonghwa could have done to him that year, but they shared no classes, and Seonghwa stopped showing up in the library every day. It was Hongjoong’s fault—he and Seonghwa spent their free time laughing in the courtyard now, just sitting and talking. Wooyoung wouldn’t say he was spying, but… 

Well, the betrayal hurt. 

Like sure, those two were sorted into the same house and all, but Hongjoong had been his friend, as Hongjoong put it nicely, since diapers.  

And sitting in the library with Seonghwa was sort of like, his thing. Their thing. 

So yeah, he was a little sour over it, but who could blame him? Hopefully, things would get better soon. He had Jongho, anyway. Jongho was a solid constant—someone Wooyoung could lean on when he needed it. 

Who needed Seonghwa and Hongjoong, anyway? 

* 3rd Year * 

To think a failed Herbology Class would begin his downfall. 

He didn’t like the look on Professor Sprout’s face, and he knew he was in for it the moment she asked him to stay after class. 

Herbology was never his best subject. If it wasn’t required, he would have dropped it long ago. If he had the teachers tied around his finger like Seonghwa did, he would have skipped it just as Seonghwa had with Flying Class their first year. But no, he wasn’t good with Herbology, and he had to live with it. 

However, it seemed like Professor Sprout had enough. 

“Jung Wooyoung, I’m setting you up with a tutor.” 

A tutor. Great. Fine. He could deal with that. 

“You need to pass this class in order to progress to your fourth year. You know that right?”

Yes, he did, actually. Maybe a tutor wasn’t a bad idea after all. 

She gave him a room number and a time tomorrow afternoon to show up. She’d rope someone into tutoring him before then, and his grades would hopefully improve. 

So, being the good student he was, he went to the empty classroom on the fourth floor to learn some stupid Herbology. 

Imagine his surprise when he saw the last person he expected to see, leaning back in a chair and smirking up at him. 

Seonghwa wasn’t in any of Wooyoung’s classes this year, and he didn’t know if that was a blessing or a curse. But this was certainly a curse if he ever saw one. He hadn’t talked to Seonghwa all year, and now Seonghwa was tutoring him? 

Wooyoung gulped. “If I leave right now, will you tell Professor Sprout?” 

“I think your next assessment will tell her for me.” Seonghwa winced and pointed to the empty chair next to him. “Please hurry so I can get this over with.” 

Wooyoung clicked his tongue, but closed the door and walked over. “Someone got talkative over the summer.” He plopped down into the chair and tried to catch Seonghwa’s eye. “Are you finally done ignoring me?”  

Seonghwa had gotten taller this year; they both had, but Seonghwa had a bit of height on him that wasn’t there before. His features were growing more defined too, but his face was still all soft edges and round shapes. Wooyoung hated that he looked kind of cute—maybe even cuter than himself. Wooyoung didn’t understand why that bothered him so much. 

“Professor Sprout said you were having trouble memorizing properties of certain plants?” Seonghwa asked, taking a book out of his bag and a scroll and a quill. Wooyoung couldn’t believe he was going to let Seonghwa teach him. How humiliating. 

“Too many random facts for my brain to function.” 

Seonghwa hummed. “This doesn’t seem like something a bit of studying won’t fix. Do you understand everything? Like the concepts?” 

“Not everyone has a perfect memory. Studying isn’t the solution to everything.” Wooyoung sighed. “Are you going to help or not?” 

“That’s what I’m here for.” 

Wooyoung gestured to the book. “Then get on with it. I thought you wanted to get this over with.” 

The resignation was clear on Seonghwa’s face. He flipped the book open and thumbed through the pages, trying to find the unit they were working through. “Aren’t you good at potions?” he mumbled. 

“Huh?” 

“I heard you’re good with potions,” Seonghwa said. “So I don’t see why Herbology is such a problem for you.” 

Wooyoung raised a brow. “Where did you hear that?” 

Seonghwa didn’t answer the question. Instead, he said, “Potions and Herbology go hand in hand, right? Maybe understanding how they overlap can help you remember things better.” 

“Uhh.. sure.” 

Seonghwa tried his best. He really did, but Wooyoung never had a good attention span. He got maybe half an hour of work in, taking notes on how certain plants affected the properties of potions he was already very familiar with. As much as he hated to admit it, it was helping. Kind of. He wished he was able to come up with this solution without Seonghwa’s help. 

But it only lasted half an hour. 

His mind started drifting, and he found himself staring blankly at Seonghwa’s profile. 

Seonghwa’s nose was slightly hooked. Wooyoung never noticed it before, but he only ever saw Seonghwa from across a library table. Seonghwa’s words faded, and he stopped paying attention to anything he was supposed to be listening to. 

“You look like a bird.” 

Seonghwa broke out of his teaching and stared back. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I said, you look like a bird.” Wooyoung winced. “Oh no, it’s like Madam Hooch all over again, except it’s worse because it’s you.”  

“Do you… not like birds?” 

“Not after you made me suffer through abandonment last year. I have trauma now. Thanks for that.” 

Seonghwa wrinkled his nose. “You’re being dramatic.” 

“You ignored me for two years! Two years.”  

“You can’t blame me! You’re a pain!” 

“It’s a good time for that duel now, huh?” 

Songhwa scoffed. “You’re insane,” he said. “Either that, or obsessed.” 

“You secretly like my company.”

Seonghwa snapped his books closed and shoveled his supplies into his bag. It all happened so fast that Wooyoung didn’t have a chance to react. 

“Good luck with your Herbology work,” Seonghwa huffed. He hooked his bag over his shoulder and walked out, not even sparing a glance back. 

So… tutoring went well. 

.

The problem was, Wooyoung did do significantly better on his next exam, and that was with only half an hour of work. Professor Sprout set up another tutoring session for him, and he couldn’t see an easy way to get out of it. 

There was a patch of Puffapod plants near the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. Seonghwa thought it would be a good idea to give Wooyoung something more hands on or mentally engaging to keep his attention this time.  

Wooyoung didn’t mind—he liked the fresh air, and it was a warmer day after that year’s brittle winter. Plus, more time to annoy Seonghwa was always a win. He was happy to go. 

Seonghwa went straight to business, not allowing Wooyoung to get a single word in before cramming information into his skull. 

Seonghwa looked nice today. Wooyoung wished he’d act nice too, but that was too much to ask. 

“Now, you have to be careful when handling these. You can’t physically touch them, or they’ll be unusable.” 

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know this.” 

“I’m sure these will be on the final exam, though, so it’s good to get more practice handling them.”

“Uh-huh.”

They had been crouching there for the longest time, and Wooyoung’s thighs were burning. The grass itched his ankles, and his eyes kept getting drawn to the vast expanse of trees in front of them. The small plants in front of him were nothing new—Professor Sprout introduced it to them at the beginning of the school year. Seonghwa was wasting his time, but Wooyoung didn’t stop him from rambling on over his words. 

In hindsight, bringing him here probably wasn’t the best idea. He had always wanted to know what the Forbidden Forest was like. Everyone said there were dangerous creatures in there, but he liked exploring and wanted to go in to see for himself. Magic creatures were awesome. Maybe he’ll end up becoming a Magizoologist. There weren’t many people who wanted to risk their lives handling unpredictable creatures, but to Wooyoung it all spelled fun. 

“Hey Seonghwa, have you ever gotten in trouble for breaking school rules?” 

Seonghwa paused, and Wooyoung could see the annoyance already blooming on his face. 

“No, I haven’t. Why are you asking? Do I even want to know?” 

“You skipped an entire class for a year and got away with it,” Wooyoung looked at him thoughtfully, and a sudden grin broke on his face. “Come with me!” 

“What?” 

Wooyoung latched his hand in Seonghwa’s robes, gripping tight. “We’re going exploring, and if we get caught, you can cover for me!” 

“What?”  

Wooyoung hauled them to their feet and marched straight for the trees. Seonghwa struggled for a good few minutes, but he slumped as they crossed into the forest, already resigned to his fate. He was getting the idea that once Wooyoung set his mind on something, it was impossible to sway him. When he was sure Seonghwa would keep following him, Wooyoung let go of his robes. 

Tree limbs hung low to the ground. Everywhere he looked, he saw green, and thin slivers of light drifted down from the canopy above. It would be more intimidating at night, with only the moon to cast a glow onto the forest floor. But now, Wooyoung had half a mind to call it pretty. 

He ignored Seonghwa’s soft protests and kept inching his way forward. He was careful to take note of trees that stood out and patches of flowers that would serve as good landmarks. He wasn’t planning to go too far, but he liked psyching Seonghwa out. 

Behind him, a stray hand tugged lightly at Wooyoung’s sleeve, and Wooyoung rolled his eyes. 

“What? Are you scared?” He turned around and grinned at Seonghwa’s wide eyes. “Shhh, the big, strong Gryffindor will keep you safe,” he cooed. 

But Seonghwa shook his head, and his hand tightened on Wooyoung’s sleeve. “Woo…” His bottom lip trembled. “We shouldn’t be here.” 

...Woo? 

That was new. 

“You’re the one who suggested we study Herbology by the forest.” 

“Not in here. You idiot. You’re going to get us killed.” 

Wooyoung shrugged and pulled away to keep walking. “I don’t see anything particularly dangerous so far. Let’s just explore a little, yeah?” 

He disentangled Seonghwa’s hand from his sleeve, but he felt a slight tug on the back of his robes now as he continued forward. To be fair, it did seem like it was growing darker the further they crept in. But Wooyoung didn’t know what the big deal was. To him, it looked like a regular forest he could find back in his hometown. There didn’t seem to be anything even magical about it. 

“Are we sure we’re in the Forbidden Forest?” Wooyoung paused by an old sagging tree, wrinkling his nose at the rotting wood. “So much for exploring- this is dull.” 

“Good. Let’s go back.” 

“No. I want to see something cool.” 

“Like what? Werewolves? Trolls? Dragons?” Seonghwa scoffed, hand now twisted in the back of Wooyoung’s robes. “You must really have a death wish.” 

“At least I’m dragging you down with me then,” Wooyoung smirked. 

He turned back around to keep moving, but Seonghwa grabbed his upper arm in a vice grip. 

“Wooyoung.” 

“Seriously, what’s gotten into you? I mean, I always knew you were a wuss, but this is getting…” 

Wooyoung trailed off when he got a good look at Seonghwa’s face. It was twisted in a grimace, eyes wide and staring over Wooyoung’s shoulder. 

Heck, did they run into something cool after all? 

He tore away from Seonghwa’s grip and whipped his head back, grinning, only to be met with… nothing?

That was disappointing. But expected. Seonghwa was jumping at ghosts. 

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “C’mon, let’s walk for a few more minutes. Just an afternoon stroll.” 

Seonghwa caught his arm. 

“Lord help me, I am going to spell you into a ferret if you stop me again.” Wooyoung glared over his shoulder. 

“Not if you die first.” 

Wooyoung raised his brows. “Now that’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” 

Seonghwa’s whole body shook, and Wooyoung debated whether to keep messing with him. Was he pushing too far? 

Wooyoung’s arm hurt under Seonghwa’s grip. He may even end up with bruises if Seonghwa didn’t let up. Wooyoung’s lips pressed into a thin line as he took in how stiff Seonghwa had become. 

“Just one more minute. Then we’ll head back,” he said slowly. It was his way of saying ‘okay, yeah, I see how scared you are, and I’m making a compromise.’  

Seonghwa shook his head. Wooyoung pulled back and took a step ahead. “One minute… that’s all, and we’re gone.” 

He went to take another step, but before he could, Seonghwa lurched forward and pulled him back. 

Huh ?!

Seonghwa’s arms were a vice around him, warmth creeping through his robes as he pressed close against him. Peppermint suddenly speared the fresh outdoor air, and Wooyoung’s back burned.  

Seonghwa hooked his chin over Wooyoung’s shoulder, ignoring his soft protests. “We’re going back now.” His voice was a whisper. 

“I’m going to curse your books to bite your fingers,” Wooyoung hissed into the open air. “If you don’t let go of me right now, your study sessions are going to get bloody.” 

“Whatever you say.” Seonghwa took a deep breath. Wooyoung could feel it against his body. “But first, we’re going to take very slow steps back. And then we are out of here. Do you understand?” 

“Not until you start making sense.” 

Somewhere up ahead, a twig snapped. 

Wooyoung grinned and tried to wrestle out of Seonghwa’s grasp, but Seonghwa only held on tighter, stumbling back. 

“Thestral.” 

Wooyoung barely heard it, even with Seonghwa’s mouth so close to his ear. 

“What did you say?” 

“There’s a Thestral right in front of you.” 

Wooyoung shook his head. “A what? Stop lying to me. There’s nothing there.” 

Seonghwa shuffled back, pulling Wooyoung along with him.

Wooyoung allowed it, but he turned a questioning gaze at the side of Seonghwa’s head, ignoring how close their faces were to take in the new glisten in Seonghwa’s eyes. 

“Fine. I’ll leave,” Wooyoung said. “Let go of me.” 

Seonghwa unlatched himself from Wooyoung’s back with a jolt, and he stumbled away. 

They made it out of the forest unscathed, but it was a rather boring trip. Seonghwa left Wooyoung by the edge of the forest, his shoulders hunched and limbs stiff as he walked off. Wooyoung didn’t know if he should.. what? Comfort him? Say sorry? He didn’t have much of a choice considering how fast Seonghwa stalked away from him. 

Seonghwa never told him what a Thestral was, but Wooyoung didn’t care. He had obviously made it up, and for the first time, Wooyoung found a wall he knew he shouldn’t push against. Something about the forest really scared Seonghwa. Wooyoung tried to ignore the guilt that built in his gut at that thought. 

They didn’t have any more tutoring sessions that year, and Wooyoung ended up just passing the class. 

That was good enough for him.

* 4th Year * 

Seventy percent of all Hogwarts alumni would say their fourth year was the best. Not their last year, but the fourth. 

It was a strange little statistic that Wooyoung took to heart, so he hoped his would live up to it too. 

Fourth year was the last period of time before the stress of the future set in. It was the last year before they had to worry about the O.W.L. exams or possible career options. It was their last hint of childhood freedom. 

It also happened to be the year he shared every single class with Seonghwa. After years of nothing, he was stuck seeing Seonghwa’s face for hours on end. 

But the universe seemed to take pity on him because it was also the year he got onto the Quidditch team. 

He loved Quidditch. He didn’t like it, he loved it. 

Practice was the best part of his day. Every day. He was the best beater Gryffindor had ever seen. 

At least, that’s what he told himself. Jongho encouraged it, so the self-praise couldn’t be too detrimental. 

So yeah, that was the good part of his year. 

He wished he could say everything else was just as good. 

But no. 

Halfway through the school year, Professor Snape assigned the big project he always gave to his fourth years. Wooyoung hated it because there were no instructions, only two words to base a large portion of his Potions grade on:

‘Impress me.’  

He had two weeks—two weeks to find a partner and brew a potion to wipe that stoic look off of Snape’s face. 

In the end, he was stuck with Seonghwa. 

Jongho was already paired up with someone (a Slytherin named Yeosang), and he left Wooyoung to the sharks. Pairs were going joining up so quick that Wooyoung had no idea what to do except turn to the only other familiar face in the room. 

It may have been Wooyoung’s fault that they were partners, but at least he could blame Jongho for it instead. 

The problem was agreeing with a potion to work on. 

They were sitting in the corner of the Great Hall, watching the usual bustle of the day. Wooyoung was too tired for his usual antics, so he stayed quiet as Seonghwa brainstormed on one of the scrolls he used for note-taking.  

“Wooyoung, shouldn't you be helping?” 

“I already know which one I want to do. You’re the one who keeps saying no.” 

“God, Wooyoung, we are not brewing Amortentia!” 

Wooyoung huffed. He had purposefully picked the most difficult potion he could think of, and Seonghwa gagged when he brought the idea up. Yeah, it was a difficult potion, but wasn’t that the point? Wooyoung couldn’t understand why Seonghwa wouldn’t let up on this.

 But Seonghwa’s vehement ‘no’ sounded a lot like a ‘perfect’ to Wooyoung. 

“It’s a bad idea,” Seonghwa said. 

“It’s a great idea.” 

What would make Seonghwa budge? There had to be something Wooyoung could use to bribe him with. 

And then— Oh! Yet another brilliant idea from one amazing Jung Wooyoung. 

“I won’t insult you for the entirety of this project if you agree to brew Amortentia.” 

Seonghwa raised a brow. “It’s still a no.” 

“In addition, I will never challenge you to a duel again.” 

“Keep going.” 

“I’ll give back two of your old quills.” 

“You still have those?” 

“Yes.” 

Seonghwa glared at him. “Do you know how much money those took to replace?” 

“Apparently enough for you to keep ignoring me.” 

Seonghwa paused, a crease in his forehead and a purse to his lips. “I have one last requirement in addition to everything else.” 

“Yes?” Wooyoung leaned closer, his fingers already itching to grab some love potion ingredients.

“You have to make an active effort to be nice-” 

“Deal.” 

“To me.”  

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “Come on, let’s go.”

“You’re already failing.” 

“I need a cauldron and a ‘borrowed’ seventh year book, preferably stolen without Professor Snape noticing.” 

Seonghwa glared at him. 

“Hey, if I get caught, I get in heaps of trouble. If you get caught, nothing happens and we get the book, anyway.” 

“Whatever.” 

“You know it’s true.” 

“Whatever you say.” 

Seonghwa left.

.

They used the Room of Requirement to brew the potion. 

No one was supposed to know about the room, Wooyoung thought. He didn’t know about it until Seonghwa dragged him by the corridor and explained how it worked. 

Right now, they needed a room to safely brew the potion without the chance of other students getting their hands on (hopefully) the most powerful love potion in the world. 

This room itself was pretty sick. 

Seonghwa didn’t actually steal an advanced book or grab a cauldron—the room provided both for them, along with nonedible ingredients they would need for the potion. They’d have to procure the rest, but it significantly cut down the work they would have needed to do earlier. 

The problem with potions was that they were boring. It was a lot of waiting around for ingredients to simmer, sometimes for days, even weeks. Looking through the instructions, Wooyoung found that he’d have to spend hours waiting around with Seonghwa, and if either of them slipped up along the way, the potion was as good as ruined. 

Wooyoung got bored easily, but he was a man of his word, and he held back every insult that came to the tip of his tongue. 

Lucky for him, he quickly found there were other ways to get Seonghwa flustered. Other simple, more effective ways he wished he discovered earlier. 

“You look nice today, Hwa.” Wooyoung pinched Seonghwa’s chin as he sat down in front of their cauldron and grinned. 

It started as a joke—Seonghwa wanted him to make an effort to be nice, so he started by being overly nice. Wooyoung thought Seonghwa would see straight through his sarcastic undertones, but no, he blushed.  

And thus, began Wooyoung’s new favorite pastime. 

The potion was going surprisingly well, too. At first glance, it looked like a murky mess of dark globs and random mystery chunks, but really, it was going perfectly well. Wooyoung was surprised to learn that he and Seonghwa actually worked really well together. His internal anger towards the boy gradually lessened by the day, and Wooyoung didn’t know if he liked that or not. 

But he did like to see him flustered. 

“Hey Wooyoung, can you pass me that book?” 

“Give me a kiss first, and then I will.”  

Seonghwa went and got the book himself. Wooyoung pouted at him. 

Another week, more flirtations. The words fell too easily from his lips. The smirks came too easily too. Now, Seonghwa always walked into the room with a smile instead of a scowl. Was this them becoming friends? How stable could a friendship be when it was built solely on bad pick up lines? 

An entire month later, and the potion was almost done. All they had to do was drop one last thing in, and they’d know if they failed or if they screwed up somehow along the way. Wooyoung let Seonghwa do the honors. 

The murky brown didn’t shift when Seonghwa dropped the last ingredient in, and Wooyoung’s stomach plummeted. They didn’t do anything wrong, did they? He triple checked their steps before they even touched the ingredients. They had been so careful.  

But right when his spirits died down, the potion began to clear. Seonghwa’s breath hitched in the silence in the room as it morphed, turning pearly and iridescent right before their eyes. 

“Well… shit!” Wooyoung gasped out, staring at their concoction. “We did it?” 

He didn’t know everything about the potion, but he knew enough to recognize the end product. It was supposed to be incredibly alluring, emitting the scent of whatever attracts the individual. 

And apparently for Wooyoung, it was fresh spring grass and a whiff of peppermint. Perfect. They did it! They actually… they… 

Peppermint. 

Wooyoung's smile slowly faded, and he glanced up. Seonghwa was running a hand through his hair, cheeks flushed red and eyes wide. His mouth was agape, and his nose scrunched up as he took in whatever scent was tailored to him. 

Peppermint. 

Seonghwa whooped in joy, falling onto his back with a laugh. It may have been the first time Wooyoung heard him laugh— really laugh.

They got full points on that potion.

Full. Shitty. Points. 

Wooyoung would never forget the look on Snape’s face when they brought him that vial. It wasn’t much—just a small upturn to the corners of his mouth—but it was enough to fuel Wooyoung’s ego for years.  

After that class, and with strict instructions from Snape, Seonghwa poured the contents of their vial out into the grass outside Hogwarts grounds. Wooyoung saluted the end of their hard work. 

Maybe those alumni statistics held true: this year was nice. Wooyoung really thought his life was looking up for once. For a stressed teen in this day and age, that was a big accomplishment. Maybe that was how he felt: accomplished. 

* 5th Year *

So much for that. 

One word could accurately sum up fifth year: a resounding ‘Fuck.’ 

He was eating breakfast across from Seonghwa when it happened. It was nice. It was calm. It was entirely out of the norm for the two of them, and Wooyoung should have known something would disturb the bubble of peace they built.

Although, he wished it were something less… well… 

The owl post came late that day, and alarm bells should have gone off in Wooyoung’s head when students turned to give their table odd looks (at least, more odd than usual). 

But he didn’t have to think that long. 

Once The Daily Prophet hit their table, Seonghwa lazily grabbed at it, a waffle still in his other hand and butter staining the corners of his mouth. Wooyoung refused to acknowledge how he was essentially just ogling Seonghwa’s lips and pretending that, yes, it was the butter that was bothering him, not anything else. 

Seonghwa set the newspaper back down on the table and left the Great Hall without saying a word. 

… Okay, then. 

Wooyoung watched him go before looking at the headlines in the paper. The parchment crinkled in his hand, and he had to reread it multiple times before it sunk in. 

He got up and followed Seonghwa out of the Great Hall. 

.

Wooyoung found him in the Room of Requirement. It was just a hunch, but it was a good one. 

The interior was different from when they brewed the potion. It was dark and smaller now, with cushions and blankets strewn across the floor and a small fireplace roaring in the corner. 

Seonghwa sat next to it, staring. A few stray tears ran down his face, and even after years of taunting him, Wooyoung thought watching Seonghwa cry may be the worst experience he ever put himself through. 

Wooyoung walked over and sat next to him, not saying anything. With half the stuff that usually came out of his mouth, it was probably for the best. 

He put a hesitant arm around Seonghwa’s shoulders and stared into the fire with him, watching the embers leap and crackle up at him. In his daze, the headlines swam back into his vision. 

‘Park Daeseong Mortally Injured by Azkaban Escapee ’

This words twisted and danced in his vision, and Wooyoung pulled Seonghwa in closer to his side, offering a free shoulder to cry on. 

Seonghwa took the treatment without a fight, a hand twisting in Wooyoung’s clothes. He pressed his face into Wooyoung’s neck, and Wooyoung just… let him. Seonghwa’s body heaved, but he didn’t make any sound, and Wooyoung felt his skin grow damp. 

Wooyoung relaxed back, pulling Seonghwa with him. 

On a whim, he let a hand drift into Seonghwa’s hair and ran his fingers through it, hoping it was somewhat soothing. 

Everything smelled like peppermint. 

“Wooyoung, I.. I can’t lose him.” Seonghwa’s sudden words jolted Wooyoung out of his thoughts, and then everything was too warm, too close, and— 

“Not him too,” Seonghwa whimpered, and Wooyoung pulled him even tighter. “I can’t-”

“You won’t. I promise,” Wooyoung whispered. “You’re going to be okay. Your pa’s going to come through just fine. He’s strong, remember? The strongest auror in the Ministry.” 

Seonghwa shook in his arms, and Wooyoung sighed, trying to relax. Maybe that would help Seonghwa relax too. He rubbed circles into Seonghwa’s back, hoping the touch would give him something to focus on instead of… everything else. 

“Everything’s going to be okay, Hwa. Do you hear me?” 

Seonghwa didn’t respond. 

“It’s like our Amortentia. It may look shitty now, but he’ll pull through it. Just some time and a little magic. He’ll be just fine.” 

Seonghwa sniffed against him, but at least he seemed to be calming down a bit. Small victories. 

“Until then, there’ll always be people to help. There’s Hongjoong, and the staff, and Jongho, and…” Wooyoung trailed off, gazing at the far wall. “Well, I guess there’s me too. Can you believe it?” 

Seonghwa chuckled, and something warm bloomed in Wooyoung’s chest. 

“See? Everything’s going to be just fine.” He pulled away to look Seonghwa in the face. It was tear-stained, and his hair was disheveled, but he was still cute as hell. 

Wooyoung kissed his cheek. It was a small peck, but it was enough for Seonghwa’s eyes to blow wide, mouth slightly agape. 

Wooyoung narrowed his eyes. “I’ll give you more if you stop worrying yourself to death.” 

.

Boggarts. 

In past years, the class was taught earlier in the Hogwarts curriculum, but after a run in with a few nasty fears a decade earlier, the officials shifted the topic to fifth year to make up for a few traumatized teens and angry letters from parents.  

The cabinet shook, its legs clacking against the floor in a low rumble. Wooyoung was suddenly glad Seonghwa would be going first, or anyone else, for that matter. Wooyoung didn’t know what his biggest fear was. He didn’t know what form it would take, and he didn’t have a plan to get rid of the boggart after Seonghwa finished. He was truly fucked, and the entire class was watching. 

Seonghwa was fiddling with his sleeves, and Wooyoung wanted to step forward and wrap his arms around him, to tell him it would be fine. But at the same time, Wooyoung couldn’t help but wonder what the older could be afraid of. Seonghwa was always stoic, strong. What could the perfect student be afraid of when he could overcome anything?

Seonghwa was shaking, and they hadn’t even opened the door yet. Wooyoung frowned over at the professor, hoping he’d notice before letting the boggart out. Seeing Seonghwa now, Wooyoung would gladly go before him, or better yet, Hongjoong or Jongho could. 

Before he could say anything, the door cracked open, and Wooyoung held his breath. Both the cabinet and the classroom went quiet as they all waited with bated breath. Seonghwa was frozen in front of him, shoulders slightly hitched up. Wooyoung placed a hand on one of them, hoping the touch would ground him. 

Wooyoung didn’t know what exactly to expect- maybe a large beast, or a dementor, or maybe something more mundane like snakes or spiders. 

But when the boggart stepped out, he didn’t expect a familiar face looking back at him, dressed in Gryffindor robes and a snarky smile. 

Wooyoung’s brows furrowed, breath hitching in his throat. It was like looking in the mirror, except the boggart’s face twisted in a look of disgust, a cruel laugh on its lips. The world fell away then, as Wooyoung stared back at himself. 

What the fuck? 

Seonghwa held his wand up, his shoulder still tense under Wooyoung’s hand. Wooyoung could almost see the gears turning in his head as he got ready to say the spell. 

But then the boggart spoke. 

“Park Seonghwa, you’re such a fuck up.” 

It was undeniably Wooyoung’s voice, and Seonghwa flinched. Wooyoung’s head spun, a sick feeling growing in his stomach. 

Seonghwa’s greatest fear… was him.  

It giggled, his high-pitched laughter suddenly sounding so.. so mocking.

 “You really thought you had a chance, huh? What an idiot. I’m not like you. There’s no way I’d ever like a f-”

“Riddikulus!”  

Seonghwa said the spell, but nothing happened. His voice shook, and his wand trembled in his hand. 

The boggart laughed even louder, almost doubling over. It was almost maniacal. Was this really how Seonghwa saw him? Wooyoung thought he had grown from… whatever this was. He thought they were friends now. But Seonghwa… he was scared of him. Wooyoung.. he was Seonghwa’s worst fear. 

Wooyoung gently let go of Seonghwa’s shoulder, bringing his hands to his sides and clenching his fists. He took a small step back, the prickle of potential tears in his eyes. 

“Aww, does Hwa want me to kiss his cheeks? To whisper lies in his ears?” The boggart spoke. “God, I still hate you so fucking much.”

“S-Stop it,” Wooyoung whispered, hoping Seonghwa could hear him. “That’s.. It’s not me.”    

Seonghwa glanced over his shoulder, meeting Wooyoung’s stare for a split second. Seonghwa’s eyes were wide, shining in the brightly lit room, and his brows were down-turned, lips slightly parted. He was still shaking. 

“It’s not me,” Wooyoung repeated a little louder. “I…” 

I’m sorry.  

Seonghwa’s face hardened, and he turned back. He took a deep breath, chest heaving, and repeated the spell. 

“Riddikulus!” 

A loud clap reverberated through the room, and the clothes on Seonghwa’s boggart twisted into a sickeningly familiar sailor suit. Wooyoung’s world opened up again as he heard the unfiltered laughter of his classmates drifting past his ears. Seonghwa’s shoulders slumped, and he wouldn’t meet Wooyoung’s eye as he walked away from the line. 

Wooyoung stared ahead, and a perfect Donald Duck costume stared back. 

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. 

.

Wooyoung cornered Seonghwa in one of the hallways, and much like he did to San all those years ago, he grabbed onto Seonghwa’s robes and hauled him into the nearest empty classroom. 

Seonghwa had been avoiding him for two weeks since the boggart, and Wooyoung had enough. It was two weeks full of overthinking and speculation. Two weeks of guilt gnawing on his insides until he bursted. 

Seonghwa stared at him as Wooyoung blocked the doorway, not allowing any potential escape routes. “What is this?” 

Wooyoung took a deep breath. He had this all planned out in his head, but now that he actually trapped Seonghwa in a room with him, it all went out the window. 

“Nothing,” Wooyoung said. “It’s just… I never really said sorry, did I?” 

“Huh?” 

“About being a jerk.” Blunt answers made for a good apology. “I’ve been nothing but awful to you, and it’s taken me so long to turn around and…” 

Seonghwa shrugged, still looking a little uneasy. “You’re fine. I got used to it a long time ago.” 

“But that isn’t right! And… and…” Should he address the elephant of the room? Might as well. “The boggart. I… I don’t know..” 

“Don’t worry. I know that wasn’t you,” Seonghwa smiled a little. “You’re a little different since then, don’t you think?” 

“No, not much.” 

And no, he really didn’t think he changed much. He just… grew older. 

“If you really feel bad, there’s actually a way you can make up for it all, if you want,” Seonghwa said. 

Oh? 

“What can I do for you?” 

“Well, I’m leaving school early,” Seonghwa said. “I’m, uh, taking my N.E.W.T.s next year and graduating.” 

What?!  

Seonghwa was… leaving.  

Oh. 

“I have to take care of my father, you know? They don’t think he’ll ever fully recover, but I… I” 

“I know.” Of course he did. Wooyoung had scoured The Daily Prophet after that day in the Room of Requirement. “That’s great. Are you… going to try to be an auror too?” 

Seonghwa nodded. “But in order to do it, I need to make up a class a failed in first year,” Seonghwa glanced at him with a smile, but wouldn’t hold his gaze. “Next year, I mean. I need to… I’ll need your help.” 

Fucking finally. 

“Only took you five years.” 

Seonghwa smiled. 

* 6th Year *

This was the year of what-ifs and realizations. It was the year the regrets began to set in, burrowing under Wooyoung’s skin and leeching off his misery. 

Wooyoung trailed a hand against the stone walls, fingertips brushing up against the uneven surface. He ignored how dusk painted the sky through the window next to him and instead peered at the blocks of cement in front of him.

… one year. 

Seonghwa would leave in less than a year. Every second was a second wasted, and yet, Wooyoung didn’t want to turn and face what lay over his shoulder, gaze unfocused on the barrier before him. 

A hand weighed heavy on his shoulder, and he suppressed a shudder. A low voice- something about starting a new year and whatnot. The words went through one ear and out the other, and Wooyoung didn’t feel the need of asking what it was. Just hearing his voice was enough. 

It was deeper than the last time Wooyoung heard it. Of course it was. They were still growing, still maturing. Wooyoung wished he could go back in time and pretend he could hide there forever. 

He took a deep breath before tilting his head back, the hand on his shoulder tightening ever so slightly. At the glimpse of silver, he gulped. 

“It’s nice to see you, Seonghwa,” he muttered, letting his arm drop to his side. Wide dark eyes met his, and Wooyoung felt like he had chugged a dose of Amortentia on the spot, straight from fourth year. 

Seonghwa laughed, a bright sound that didn’t match their surroundings. “I never thought I’d ever hear those words from you, yet here we are.” He had dyed his hair over the summer, silver strands falling into his face where a deep black used to be. Wooyoung wasn’t surprised- Seonghwa had always found ways to slip through the cracks of Hogwart’s etiquette rules, and it seemed odd hair colors wasn’t the exception. 

Not for the first time, Wooyoung wondered how far Seonghwa could push before their superiors cracked. There wasn’t much time left to find out. 

Seonghwa pulled away and leaned against the window, blocking the fading light and facing Wooyoung straight on now. He had grown taller as well, and Wooyoung cursed his own lack of growth over the years. 

At Wooyoung’s silence, Seonghwa sighed. “I couldn’t find you at the sorting ceremony last night, and the hallways have been peculiarly quiet today. Did you find something interesting in… the wall?” 

“I was thinking.” 

Wooyoung ignored Seonghwa’s suppressed snort, and a crease formed on Seonghwa’s brow. 

Yes, he knew he was acting out of character. He knew he should be thrilled right now, running and yelling through the corridors with Jongho by his side, but he couldn’t find it in himself. Not right now. 

“I’ve been thinking,” he started, and then stopped, swallowing past a lump in his throat. “I’ve been thinking about the time I’ve spent here. Since the beginning.” 

Seonghwa gave him a faint smile. “Maybe we should leave the thinking to me, yeah?” 

They’d have to leave soon. Hogwarts had an earlier curfew tonight, as classes would start their rounds early tomorrow morning. Seonghwa’s blue trimmed robes already looked pitch black as the sun finally collapsed behind the mountains. The light fixtures on the walls sprung to life on their own, but they would dim soon as curfew approached. They were in an abandoned hallway on one of the top floors. Wooyoung hadn’t cared where his feet took him, just that his destination was somewhere quiet, a place where his memories didn’t overrule his thought. Finding his way back to the Gryffindor common room would be a hassle; he never could get used to the moving staircases. 

“I never took you for the brooding type,” Seonghwa said. 

“Don’t lie to me.” 

Seonghwa answered with a hum. He tilted his head towards the window, looking out to the grounds below. The dim lights of Hogsmeade winked in the distance, the Quidditch pitch rising before it and the edges of the Forbidden Forest visible to the right. He placed a light hand against the diamond hatched glass, and Wooyoung wondered if his thoughts matched his own. 

“Are you ready for another year?” Wooyoung spoke, not sure if he was addressing Seonghwa or himself, maybe even both. 

“As ready as you are.” 

Wooyoung smiled. “Let’s make it a good one.” 

“Like the others haven’t been?” 

Wooyoung didn’t answer. Instead, he nudged Seonghwa to the side and peered through the window himself. 

“Let’s make it a good one,” he repeated, staring out into the world beyond their small arch window. 

.

“You just need to kick off of the ground,” Wooyoung said. He had two brooms in either hand, smiling. “It’ll be completely fine. Do you trust me?” 

“No.” 

“Honestly, that’s fair.” 

They were on the Quidditch pitch after one of Wooyoung’s daily practices. It had mostly cleared out, so it was just the two of them there with the nice, quiet afternoon. Wooyoung’s hair stuck to his face from sweat, and he knew he probably smelt wretched. He wished he had time to shower, or freshen up, but Seonghwa wanted to get started as soon as possible. 

He handed one of the brooms to Seonghwa and smiled. “Watch, I’ll demonstrate really quick.” Wooyoung perched on his own broom and kicked off the ground to hover above them. “See? It’s really not that bad. There a reason why they teach it to first years.”

As it turned out, Seonghwa was deathly afraid of heights. 

Wooyoung took in Seonghwa’s crouched form on the floor and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Over his shoulder, the sun had begun to set. The sky, bathed in vermillion, cast a firm glow over the field. The gold hoops in the air stood tall, taunting them. It had been hours, and they were both still grounded. As the sun dipped under the mountains, Wooyoung’s heart went with it. 

“You don’t have to force yourself,” Wooyoung said. “It’s okay.” 

Seonghwa sighed. “I thought you’ve been egging me on to fly since first year.” 

“First-year-Wooyoung was an idiot, and we both know that.” 

“What about every other year after that?” Seonghwa smirked up at him. “I’m sure you’ve complained at least a hundred times since then about my absence.” 

“What can I say? I’ve been an idiot for a long time.” 

“Is this you insulting yourself?” 

“This is me saying I’ve finally pulled my shit together.” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Yep.” 

Wooyoung struggled to think of a way to force Seonghwa to get in and stay in the air. And then he had a stroke of genius. 

“Give me your broom,” Wooyoung said. He reached an arm out to take it. 

Seonghwa raised a brow. “Are we done for the day?” 

“Not quite, but trust me.” 

Seonghwa shook his head but handed the broom over. Wooyoung grinned. “I had a good idea. Just trust me.” 

“You’ve been saying that a lot, and I don’t know how to feel about it.” 

Wooyoung ignored him and mounted his broom, his back to Seonghwa. “Get on.” 

A pause. “Excuse me?” 

“Get on and hold on tight.” 

“Is that safe?” 

“Trust me.”  

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “It should.”  

For a second, Wooyoung thought Seonghwa would chicken out again, but he jumped when arms circled around his waist. 

“Get it over with,” Seonghwa said. “I want to leave.” 

Something in those words hurt. Did Seonghwa want to leave Hogwarts that badly? If Wooyoung had made his earlier years more pleasant, would Seonghwa have stayed with him? 

He kicked off the ground, and Seonghwa’s grip turned bruising. 

Wooyoung kept relatively low to the ground to start, wanting to ease Seonghwa into flying higher. He didn’t want to startle him, and the last thing he needed was for Seonghwa to fall off the broom in fright. So he kept low until Seonghwa nudged him to go higher. 

Eventually, Seonghwa’s grip loosened, and he hummed appreciatively as the wind whipped back. 

“Not so bad, huh?” Wooyoung asked. “You just needed a little push. That’s all.” 

He flew them in random patterns, circling around the Hogwarts Grounds for fun, trying to get Seonghwa to loosen up even more. It was slow going, but Seonghwa’s warmth on his back and the hands on his torso made it worth it. 

It was probably past curfew then, and Wooyoung picked the Astronomy Tower to land. Teachers rarely checked up there for students, not only was it an easy target, but it was open to the outside elements, making it easy to slip right back into Hogwarts. 

They probably looked crazed climbing off of that broom, with windswept hair and disheveled clothes. Wooyoung didn’t care. Seonghwa was smiling, and he finally got that Flying Class in. Giddy and high off of the adrenaline rush, Wooyoung leaned over and kissed Seonghwa’s forehead, leaning up and knocking their noses together with a laugh. 

Seonghwa froze for a second, but before Wooyoung could pull away, he grabbed the front of Wooyoung’s clothes and leaned in to kiss him. To really kiss him.

It was short and innocent—a small peck—but it was enough for Wooyoung’s brain to go haywire.

.

It was the last time he’d see Seonghwa at Hogwarts before he left for good. 

Wooyoung hugged him tight. Seonghwa wasn’t wearing his robes anymore. They hung from the crook of his elbow, folded and useless. 

“I’m going to miss you,” Wooyoung sniffed. He pulled back slightly but opted to stay in Seonghwa’s arms for just a little while longer. 

“I’ll miss you too.” Seonghwa pressed a small kiss to Wooyoung’s forehead. 

“I never did get that duel, did I?”

“You disallowed yourself from ever challenging me again,” Seonghwa reminded him. His eyes sparkled. “You know, the past six years has felt an awful lot like one, anyway.”

Wooyoung’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, has our duel ever really ended?” 

Even until the end, Seonghwa wouldn’t stop being so… complicated. The confusion must have shown on his face, because Seonghwa started laughing. 

“I’ll see you soon.” 

“Yeah,” Wooyoung paused, watching the sun glint off of Seonghwa’s hair. Soon, Seonghwa would be a king walking through the halls of the Ministry of Magic. Wooyoung knew Seonghwa would become the best auror they’d ever have, far surpassing his father. He wished he could be there to see it in person. 

But.. there were a lot of jobs open in the Ministry. Who knew what could happen? After all, there had been a shortage of Magizoologists lately. They might need a specialist or two. 

“I’ll see you soon.”

Wooyoung liked that. It wasn’t a goodbye, and it wasn’t nothing. It was a promise, and it was one he fully intended to keep.