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There’s a loud crashing sound behind him, and Yunho spins around to find Mingi, crouched on the floor, dirt smudged across his face, his eyes bright with tears and lip trembling, scattered pieces of a broken pot before him.
“I’m sorry,” Mingi says, his voice small, and he barely gets the words out before Yunho is crouching before him, pulling the remaining pieces from his hands, and once he makes sure there are no cuts or other injuries, he holds them in his own, squeezing them reassuringly. Because he knows Mingi hates getting in trouble, and he’s already here in detention, which has to be a little upsetting. And since it’s kind of sort of Yunho’s fault in the first place, and he hates watching his friend upset, he refrains from teasing Mingi over his tendency, despite the fact that they’re seventh years, about to graduate from one of the most famous schools of witchcraft in the world, to forget that they’re wizards, capable of magic, and a broken pot is nothing to cry over.
“It’s okay,” he says calmly, helping Mingi to his feet. “I’ll fix it in a minute, are you okay?”
Mingi nods when he realizes Yunho isn’t mad, and when he lets out his next breath, Yunho notices some of the tension leaving his shoulders. They’re still holding hands, and Yunho brings his other hand up to brush the dirt from Mingi’s cheek.
“C’mon,” he says softly, leading Mingi away from the mess on the floor. “It’s a good time for a break anyways.”
They’ve been at it for hours now, cleaning the greenhouses one by one, and when Yunho collapses on the floor in the corner of the room, he can feel the toll it’s already taken on his body. Mingi sits beside him, and Yunho slumps against him, using his shoulder as a headrest. Mingi leans his head against his, shifting closer.
“We’re almost done,” he says, trying to be positive, and Mingi laughs into his hair.
“We have three greenhouses left,” he reminds him, and Yunho sighs in defeat. His nose is buried in Mingi’s shirt, and he smells like his deodorant with a hint of peppermint, which Yunho has come to associate with their friendship, Hogwarts, and home.
“I don’t want to get up,” he mumbles into his shoulder, because he doesn’t, because Mingi is soft and comfortable and his legs hurt and he’s perfectly fine where he’s at, especially when Mingi wraps an arm around his shoulder, and even though he’s hot and sweaty already, there’s something about Mingi’s warmth that pulls him in closer.
“Cleaning all the greenhouses without magic is a bit harsh.”
Yunho lifts his head to look at him and breaks into a smile. “It was worth the look on her face, wasn’t it?”
Mingi grins, his eyes closing into little crescents, and Yunho thinks it was all worth it even just for this.
“Maybe we do deserve it, she was pretty angry.”
Yunho laughs a bit. Their professor was pretty angry when the earmuffs he’d messed with led to half of the Ravenclaw second years fainting in their mandrake lesson. In hindsight, they probably shouldn't have stuck around to watch the end result, but it was definitely worth the reactions of both his professor and the other students (who were elated at the class disruption). “But you didn’t even have anything to do with it,” he tells him, and Mingi shrugs.
“It was my idea.” He ruffles Yunho’s hair, and Yunho finds himself leaning closer. “And I would never leave you to do this on your own.” Yunho closes his eyes. He loves when Mingi touches his head, and he thinks he could fall asleep right now if he keeps it up. Luckily, Mingi pulls away, pinching his cheek playfully as his hand retreats.
“Do you remember our first prank?” he asks, not wanting the warmth to leave.
Mingi hums, and he knows that’s his go ahead to tell the story, even though they both can remember it like it was yesterday.
“It was honestly Changbin’s fault for bringing a tarantula onto the train in the first place,” Yunho starts, and they both erupt into giggles at the memory.
“We had just met,” Mingi says, “How did we go from basic introductions to setting a tarantula loose in the prefect’s carriage?”
Yunho shrugs. “It seemed like a logical next step.”
“And no one ever caught us either,” Mingi tells him. “We thought we were invincible after that. It was honestly the worst possible thing for our egos.”
Yunho smiles, remembering the way they arrived at Hogwarts for the first time, with nothing but excitement for their upcoming adventures. They way they both came in, alone and afraid, and left that train knowing they could count on each other regardless of what the castle walls had in store for them. The memory of Mingi’s house placement, just a few after his, is so clear to him it might as well have been yesterday. Sharing Hufflepuff meant Yunho never had to be alone, and Mingi and his pranks made Hogwarts quickly feel like his home.
But it isn’t yesterday, and Yunho and Mingi aren’t little eleven year olds anymore with nothing to do but set spiders on the upperclassmen, they’re basically adults with real responsibilities like cleaning the remaining three greenhouses. He tries to wriggle from Mingi’s grasp, “C’mon, we should get going.”
But Mingi whines and latches himself onto Yunho, his chin hooking over his shoulder, arms circling his waist.
“Tell me about our second prank?” he asks, and Yunho has to blink because his wide eyes are right there, so close, and his lips are turned up in a pout and Yunho is suddenly so much warmer, and his breath is shaky when he lets out a quiet agreement. He relaxes back into Mingi’s hold. He could never say no to him anyways. He’s weak for the puppy dog eyes.
“It was two hours later,” he remembers, after he’s calmed down enough to breathe. “You wanted to know how to use hair dyeing magic after seeing the cool Ravenclaw with the red hair.”
“Hongjoong.” Mingi smiles at the memory. “I wanted red hair too, I didn’t even know there were spells to do that kind of thing.”
“I had seen my brother do it, once when I was younger. I remembered the spell.”
“But I didn’t trust you, not without seeing it in action first.” They’re both giggling.
“Poor Seonghwa,” Yunho says through laughter. “How long did it take to get the yellow out?”
“Way too long,” Mingi admits, “but he pulled it off, didn’t he?” Yunho nods honestly. Only Seonghwa. “Why’d you pick him anyway? Not one of the other boys in our year?”
“I didn’t want to freak Felix out, he was too sweet, and new like us,” he says. “Seonghwa seemed nice enough when he introduced himself, I wasn’t scared he’d murder us or anything if things went wrong.”
“Like they did?” Mingi says, and Yunho grins sheepishly. “You were right, anyways, Seonghwa never killed us, but the cool Ravenclaw with the red hair almost did, remember?”
Yunho remembers their first interaction with Hongjoong very clearly, and how easily the boy, despite being half their size, had marched right up to them and told them off in front of the entire Great Hall for picking on his friend. Mingi had almost cried, and Yunho’s memories of the event aren’t too pleasant either. He cringes, and Mingi giggles into his shoulder.
“You were smart to trust Seonghwa, he managed to calm him down pretty easily, told us there were no hard feelings. Even offered to help teach us the real spell, if we really wanted to learn.”
“I think I was too scared to try a transfiguration spell for a year after that, Seonghwa’s help or not,” Yunho admits. He turns to Mingi, and in his soft eyes he sees his eleven-year-old best friend. It had all ended with a hair dyeing session in Myrtle’s bathroom, and Mingi and Yunho left with freshly dyed hair and a new close friend (or two, if you count a reluctant Hongjoong).
Mingi doesn’t look away. “I miss your blue hair,” he says, and Yunho grins.
“I could dye it again.” He reaches a hand out, playing with Mingi’s hair. Mingi leans into his touch, his eyes fluttering shut. “I miss your red hair.”
He opens his eyes, a soft smile on his face. “I miss Seonghwa,” Mingi says, suddenly serious. Yunho feels his sentiment, but he can’t help but giggle at the memories he has of the older boy.
“I miss Hongjoong trying to sneak into the Hufflepuff dormitories,” he says, and Mingi giggles too. “He always thought he was so smooth, but then we’d find them cuddling the next morning in Seonghwa’s bed.”
“He drools too,” Mingi remembers, scrunching up his nose. Yunho smiles fondly.
“I hope they see each other often, now that they’re gone,” he says, a bit wistful, and Mingi nudges his shoulder.
“I’m sure they do, they couldn’t go two nights without each other, don’t you remember?”
Yunho nods, comforted by the thought. “I hope we can see them soon too, I haven’t heard from either of them in so long.”
“Hongjoong sent me a letter last week.” Mingi snorts, and Yunho pulls away to glare.
“He what?”
“He didn’t tell me anything personal,” Mingi defends, “He just wanted to check in a bit, see how his favorite Hufflepuff was doing.”
By now Yunho’s pouting, completely unashamed. Hongjoong never sent him any letters. “How come you never told me?”
“Seonghwa sent you sweets for your birthday last month, and you never shared any with me.”
“It was my birthday!”
“Everyone knows you’re Seonghwa’s favorite, just let me be Hongjoong’s.” Yunho sighs and settles back into Mingi’s shoulder.
“It’s so weird that we’re leaving,” he says, frowning. “Will the younger students miss us, are they going to be waiting for our letters? Or will Hogwarts just forget about us, the minute we’re gone?”
“I’m leaving behind a legacy,” Mingi tells him, and Yunho snorts.
“Oh really?”
“Hogwarts’ very own Cupid,” he says, grinning. Yunho rolls his eyes.
“Not this again.”
“Hey,” Mingi protests, a cute pout on his face. “Do you know how many couples have me to thank for the start of their relationship?”
“Zero.”
Mingi pulls away, frowning. “You’re a traitor.”
“I’m gonna miss Innie,” Yunho changes the subject, thinking of the younger Hufflepuff they’ll be leaving behind.
“Jeongin will definitely be missing me,” Mingi says, and Yunho groans and rolls his eyes again. “He and Hyunjin wouldn’t be together if it weren’t for me. He just adores me.” Yunho swats at his arm, too tired to argue.
“I wonder if we’ll ever hear from either of them ever again.”
“Don’t say that.” Mingi swats him back. “Chan keeps in touch, he sends us candies once a month. Maybe we can be like that for the younger kids.”
Yunho smiles at the idea. “We should. That would be fun.”
“It’s Wooyoung and San we have to worry about.”
Yunho snorts. “After graduation, we’ll never hear from them again. Woo will get all famous, a professional Quidditch player or something, and it’ll be like we never existed.”
“Luckily I have a claim to their relationship.”
“Shut up.”
“Yeosang’s gonna be successful too, I bet,” Mingi says, and Yunho nods seriously.
“I hope we can hear from him, and Jongho too, though I know he’ll still be in school.” Yunho feels a bit sad then, like he’s finally realizing just how much they’ll be leaving behind. “I’ll miss them so much.” Their mood has been light so far, as they’ve been reminiscing over their shared memories, joking about their fellow classmates, but it quickly shifts as they both fall silent for a moment.
“Don’t worry,” Mingi finally says, grabbing Yunho’s hand, “I’ll keep in touch, when we leave.”
Yunho feels his heart fall, and looks down at his lap to their intertwined hands. They’ve been avoiding it, and Yunho knows it, and he knows Mingi knows it too, and so he squeezes his hand tighter and looks down at his lap. “I’ll miss you the most,” he whispers, and he hears Mingi’s breath hitch beside him.
“Hey,” Mingi says, and Yunho lifts his head to meet his gaze. “You won’t have to miss me, okay?”
Yunho can feel tears welling in his eyes, and Mingi reaches a hand up to wipe them away before they fall. He’s not quite sure what exactly they’re waiting for, no longer worried about ruined friendships or the risks of confessing. Yunho knows Mingi well enough by now to know how he feels, to know what to expect when the other sighs and leans closer, impossibly close until they’re breathing the same air and he can feel their noses brushing.
He still gasps when he feels Mingi’s lips on his, soft and hesitant but more than right. Yunho just melts, into his embrace, into the kiss, into Mingi, and he’s not hot, it’s not a burning he feels, but a slow warmth, like he’s sitting by the furnace in the Hufflepuff common room, sharing a blanket with Mingi, tangled together after a day playing in the snow. Warm like the fireplace, thick blankets, and cuddles. Warm like friendship and all of their memories. Warm like home, warm like Mingi.
He pulls away, but just far enough to look into Mingi’s eyes, bright and soft and all things Mingi. The younger boy laughs and kisses his nose.
“You’re not losing me that easily.”