Chapter Text
Mystique Magickes is not a small store, not by any definition. It just wasn’t that big.
Well, Seonghwa supposes, the neighboring stores in Diagon Alley don’t really help his case. On the left, there’s the booming business Woo-San’s Wizarding Wheezes. The joke shop is always loud and rowdy, even near midnight when it finally closes. Seonghwa had been rudely jolted awake countless times before by strange thumps, shrieking laughter, and on one occasion, a hair-raising scream.
But Seonghwa is close friends with the shop owners, Wooyoung and San. The two had been inseparable at Hogwarts to the point where the students collectively referred to them as Woosan; in fact, the mischievous duo had almost exact replications of the legendary Weasley twins’ reputations. Their pranks had gained such infamy that George Weasley himself had taken notice of the two — particularly after the… unforgettable incident with a Conjured dragon that wreaked havoc in the Great Hall and singed off Professor Malfoy’s eyebrows. As Head Boy that year, Seonghwa had to deal with the fallout for days after.
(This included, but was not limited to, an incredibly awkward session of listening to Professor Malfoy furiously rant to him and Headmistress McGonagall for 30 minutes over how the state of his eyebrows would completely alter his face. Privately, Seonghwa thought this was a rather dramatic overreaction, as both Glamours and makeup exist. He suspected the Headmistress did as well, judging from the subtle eyeroll she threw at the professor every five minutes. But since Professor Malfoy was writing Seonghwa’s letter of recommendation to a Potions master, Seonghwa thought it wise to err on the side of caution and stay quiet.)
In fact, George Weasley had been so impressed by the prank that he’d walked right into the Gryffindor common room and approached the two. The rumor mill had it (more specifically, Seonghwa’s Gryffindor friend and insatiable gossip Yunho) that the three had stayed up debating the fine merits of pranks the entire night. George had been so pleasantly surprised that he’d invited the two to a tour of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes.
Adding to the situation, Hugo Weasley, George’s most likely successor, had suddenly married Octavia McLaggen at the ripe young age of nineteen. In retrospect, it wasn’t that much of a surprise, considering they’d been dating well on for four years.
So while Hugo settled down for family life, George Weasley had given Wooyoung and San the joke shop. The elder had brought it up in conversation flippantly, as he treated almost everything in life. Through their stutters and gaping, George was eventually able to pull out an agreement, and a contract was signed the following week.
Seonghwa still remembers the terrific commotion that came with the transfer of ownership. At first, loud whoops and cheering reverberated from the store, which — fine. Seonghwa understands that. It’s bound to be an exciting day for the new owners, Seonghwa thinks quietly to himself. After all, nearly every graduated Hogwarts student of their day knew of the infamous Jung Wooyoung and Choi San who just got the dream job of their lives.
Seonghwa could even tolerate the ear splitting, banshee-shrieking fireworks that resound through the still air minutes later because, well, they aren’t known for being the prankster duo for nothing.
But Seonghwa is entirely unprepared for the deafening roar that echoes down the cobblestone street seconds later.
With it comes a wave of scorching heat and a gust of wind so strong it knocks the breath straight out of Seonghwa’s lungs. It feels as if a gigantic oven just opened and flooded Diagon Alley with almost suffocating heat.
Boisterous laughter shrieks from the joke shop in tandem with another roar.
At this point, Seonghwa is cowering behind his cauldron in fear with only his wand for protection. The Ravenclaw had always preferred calm, methodical potion-brewing over frenzied spellcasting. Plus, it had been a few years since his graduation from Hogwarts (and with that, his last Defense Against the Dark Arts class). His defensive spells are probably so rusty that he fears even a simple protego won’t last against whatever was Conjured in Woo-San’s Wizarding Wheezes.
Sure enough, a rhythmic pounding starts up. Seconds later, Seonghwa thinks he’s been inhaling too many fumes and the toxicity has finally got to his brain.
Because there at his front door, a dragon is peering inside curiously.
A dragon. Oh, Merlin.
A strangled shriek escapes from his lips, quivering in the air.
Then a head with honey-colored strands of fluffy hair pops into the doorframe.
And of course, it’s the infamous Choi San. The first thing Seonghwa notices about him is the attractive, somewhat kittenish curl at the edge of his lips. The second thing he notices is the lovely warm caramel pools of his eyes. It’s a testament to how enraptured Seonghwa is that he doesn’t even realize the right half of San’s robes are singed off until a full ten seconds later.
“Hello! I’m Choi San! I own Woo-San’s Wizarding Wheezes with my partner Jung Wooyoung next door! He couldn’t make it because he’s putting out the fire right now,” he says. At Seonghwa’s alarmed expression, he hurries to add on, “Don’t worry, he has it all under control!” San’s voice matches his face — smooth and rich like honey. It’s rather loud and excited (but Seonghwa supposes that’s unsurprising given his track record at Hogwarts).
“I-I’m Park Seonghwa,” he replies. There’s a noticeable tremble in his voice, although who can blame him, considering there’s a live dragon peering into his store. San “ah”s in greeting. “Ah, you were Head Boy in the year above us, right?”
The dragon huffs out, and Seonghwa is too preoccupied with screaming in terror to answer San’s question. The thought of his precious potions being incinerated by one dragon breath is just too much to bear.
San’s eyes widen. “Oh, are you worried about Mingi here? Don’t worry, he’s harmless,” he coos as he strokes the dragon’s scales. Seonghwa suddenly recalls the most renowned Woosan prank from seventh year (yes, the one involving the dragon and Professor Malfoy’s eyebrows).
His curiosity ultimately overwhelms his fear, and he scrounges up enough courage to ask, “Is that the same dragon that you Conjured in the Great Hall?”
San’s eyes scrunch into tiny slits, and oh no, he’s adorable when he smiles. Seonghwa is mildly horrified because San is one of the most troublesome pranksters in the Wizarding World — there’s no doubt about it, given his occupation — but how could Seonghwa ever harbor ill will to the human equivalent of a mischievous kitten?
“You have a keen eye, Seonghwa-hyung! I can call you that, right? I think we’re pretty close given that you supervised me and Wooyoung in detention for two weeks.” San speaks like a train barreling down a mountainside, and Seonghwa can do nothing besides nod dazedly as the younger jumps from one conversation point to the next.
San continues, “Well, you see, it’s a little complicated. Mingi here is the same dragon that we brought into the Great Hall! Except the only minor thing is, we didn’t Conjure him, he’s actually a real dragon that we raised as a hatchling in the Forbidden Forest. Then, for the prank, we released him from a magically enhanced suitcase in the Great Hall!” As if in agreement, Mingi huffs happily by San’s side, and Seonghwa’s heart almost gives out when the dragon’s breath causes one of his potions bottles to wobble.
“Whoa, Mingi baby, be careful! We don’t want to damage hyung’s potions now, would we?” The dragon, looking properly chastised, snorts sadly in response. San pats his snout gently and croons, “Aww, Mingi, what a good dragon you are! Who’s a good dragon? Yes, you are, baby!” Mingi’s tail thumps excitedly on the ground outside, and Seonghwa can feel the resulting tremors shaking the foundation of his shop.
Seonghwa is sure San’s certifiably insane now - although that was not entirely unexpected either. Taking in Seonghwa’s incredulous expression, San laughs again. It’s a high-pitched giggle, and it reminds him of the melodic fluttering of wind chimes.
True to San’s word, the partner-in-crime Wooyoung drops by about half an hour later. He introduces himself with an equally disarming eye smile that has Seonghwa’s heart melting inside. The two practically radiate sunshine and mischief, and Seonghwa has the odd urge to adopt them both.
So that was how Seonghwa, the righteous, rule-abiding Head Boy of Hogwarts four years ago, was acquainted with the most infamous Gryffindor pranksters of their generation.
With how boisterous Wooyoung and San are, it’s no surprise that Mystique Magickes is sometimes overshadowed by Woo-San's Wizarding Wheezes. As much as Seonghwa loves them, he has to admit that there is a tiny sliver of jealousy lodged deep in his heart for the joke shop’s booming success (oftentimes, literally booming with noise). The storefront is large, draped with the most vivid, eye-catching colors, and displays popular items teenage witches or wizards would die for.
And to the right of Mystique Magickes is Madam Malkin’s, the one and only robe shop in the entire alley. People of all ages flocked to the store - first year students vibrating with excitement for the school year, Muggleborns with eyes wide as saucers, full of wonderment, harried parents dragging their children through the crowded cobblestone path, fourth years who just hit a growth spurt.
In comparison, Mystique Magickes was a small apothecary. Some would say it was squished haphazardly between the two other stores, but Seonghwa preferred thinking of it as “nestled comfortably.” Even if business wasn’t booming, he still received a significant stream of customers.
And it was just enough that the shop generated a moderate amount of profit, while the workload was still manageable for only Seonghwa. (Sue him, but he values his alone time).
So Seonghwa quickly finds a rhythm in his new life of shopkeeping: take stock of inventory, greet customers, entertain Woosan’s antics, place new shipments, work on his potions side projects. His life is mundane in the good sort of way, with just enough social interaction to keep him from shriveling up into a hermit, and just enough repetition in his daily schedules that he doesn’t go insane from the unexpected.
Ah, just perfect.
Of course, that is until Wooyoung ruins it all.
One afternoon, about a year after Woosan had officially been granted ownership of the joke shop, Wooyoung barges into Mystique Magickes with all the fanfare of a blustering tornado. Seonghwa startles violently at the noise, rising from the counter where he was checking his logbooks. “What is it, Wooyoung?”
He braces himself for another catastrophic accident. Last time, San had fallen down the stairs and had to be brought to St. Mungo’s for professional medical attention. The time before that, Wooyoung had somehow set himself on fire, and it was only Seonghwa’s timely aguamenti that stopped him from acquiring serious burns.
What he is wholly unprepared for is Wooyoung producing a meerkat from under his robes.
A meerkat. This is almost more ridiculous than Mingi. At least you’d expect to see a magical creature of some sort in the Wizarding World. So Wooyoung cradling this entirely Muggle animal as if it were his firstborn child was rather unexpected.
“Seonghwa-hyung, would you want to do me a huuuuuuuge favor and take care of this meerkat? His name is Sangie and he’s super well-behaved I promise okay thanks so much for saying yes bye —”
“Hold on Wooyoung,” Seonghwa interrupts his tirade. He can almost feel a migraine building already. “What’s going on?”
“Well…” Wooyoung adopts the puppy-eyed look that he always uses when he’s asking Seonghwa for a favor. He hates it because it’s so goddamn effective. (Wooyoung’s big eyes are just too cute to resist, okay?) “I found this meerkat abandoned on the side of a road in Muggle London and I couldn’t just leave him there! He was about to get run over by a car! So I had to bring him with me! But it’s way too dangerous for Sangie to stay in the joke shop because we have a lot of dangerous materials there, so I brought him here!”
Seonghwa might’ve bought it… if not for the strange sparkle in Wooyoung’s eye that he always has when he’s lying… and also for the multiple gaping holes in the story.
He starts with the obvious first. “Wooyoung, you know my shop isn’t safe either, right? I make potions for a living,” Seonghwa deadpans.
Wooyoung looks like a deer caught in headlights. “Uhhh…” he flounders for a bit before his eyes suddenly light up. “But you make healing potions, which are far less dangerous than our prank stuff!” He looks so proud of himself that Seonghwa doesn’t have the heart to point out the variety of deadly ingredients in his potions.
The shop owner continues, “Why don’t you just take it to animal control or a shelter? I’m sure his owners are looking for him, or at worst, he can be given a new home with someone who actually has the proper materials to care for him.”
“Uhhhh…” Wooyoung flounders for far longer this time, and the meerkat cradled between his palms lets out a little huff. It almost sounds… exasperated? Seonghwa didn’t know animals could pick up on emotions like that, much less the non-magical creatures. And come to think of it, this meerkat was staying far more still than any normal Muggle animal.
Seeds of suspicion are already being planted in his mind. Seonghwa just needs to test his hypothesis, and luckily, Wooyoung is the worst liar out there. “Wooyoung,” Seonghwa begins, “Is that really a meerkat?”
Wooyoung’s eyes snap up frantically. “Of course it is, hyung!” Then, his voice takes on a defensive quality. “What else would Sangie be? Look at him!”
Bingo, Seonghwa thinks victoriously. Getting angry was a classic tell of Wooyoung’s.
It doesn’t escape the elder’s notice that the meerkat had also stiffened up at Seonghwa’s question, as if it understood his words. The combined actions were far too specific for Seonghwa to chalk it all up to mere coincidence. “Alright, Wooyoung. Do you want to keep lying or do you want to tell me the truth?”
In a flash, what was previously a meerkat was now a breathtakingly handsome blonde man. He has an oddly familiar face, yet Seonghwa can’t seem to place exactly where he’s seen him before.
“Sangie, no,” Wooyoung breathes out with a note of horror.
He’s ignored by the meerkat-human, who bows to a gaping Seonghwa and says, “Hello, Park Seonghwa-sshi. I am Kang Yeosang, and I am begging for your assistance.”
To the immense alarm of both Wooyoung and Seonghwa, he proceeds to drop to his knees. The older hurries around his counter to where Yeosang is kneeling and puts his hands gently on his shoulders. “There is no need for you to kneel. Please, Yeosang, we are all equals here. But I believe it’ll be best if you start from the beginning and explain just exactly what in Merlin is going on.”
A cup of tea and a warm blanket later, Yeosang is situated comfortably on one of their armchairs. Wooyoung stands next to him, wearing a hole into the carpet with his pacing. Seonghwa sits opposite the duo in an armchair of his own, toying with his wand. Even though Kang Yeosang is Wooyoung’s friend, Seonghwa can’t bring himself to completely trust him - especially with how involved the Kangs were in Voldemort’s inner circle. In fact, they were one of the most powerful and vocal Pureblood families advocating for Voldemort’s reign of terror. Perhaps the only other family who could hold a candle to their deep pockets and political clout were the Malfoys.
Yet, despite the Second Wizarding War being over for six years, its lasting ramifications still remained. From shrunken workforces due to wartime casualties to ruins of magical buildings scattered across England, it was clear as day that the Wizarding World was still suffering. Perhaps the biggest victory to reconciliations were the punishments of known Death Eaters.
Many were sentenced to Azkaban for their crimes — but notably, not the Kangs. No doubt, Lord Kang leveraged copious amounts of money and political favors to stay out of the prison. The official report was that Lord and Lady Kang were acting under the Imperius Curse, but nearly everyone knew that it was a flimsy excuse.
Although, Seonghwa has to note, Kang Yeosang may be a different story from his family. As he was a mere thirteen years old when the war was at its peak, it was highly unlikely that the boy had ever been involved in Death Eater activities. And when Seonghwa thinks back to his interactions with Yeosang at Hogwarts after the war, he can’t recall much of anything. Even when the elder was Head Boy and Yeosang held Slytherin’s prefect position, the latter seemed to prefer silence and solitude. He was a model student — quiet, studious, polite — not to mention quite a few girls swooning over his good looks and dubbing him as the Slytherin Ice Prince. In short, Seonghwa finds it difficult to suspect him of nefarious deeds.
“Park Seonghwa-sshi,” Yeosang begins haltingly, jarring Seonghwa back into the present. “I’m awfully sorry for this inconvenience, and I’m sure you have many questions for me. First, I’d like to formally apologize for coming into your shop without prior notice, and in such a disruptive manner —”
“What Yeosang means to say,” Wooyoung interrupts impatiently, “is that his family is completely fucked up and he needs an out. That out is you. Yeosang’s already faked his death, so all you need to do is just hide him for a while until we figure out a better solution.”
“Wooyoung!” Yeosang snaps sharply in rebuke.
“What?” Seonghwa says faintly.
“I told you this won’t work,” Yeosang groans, putting his hands in his face and slumping back in the armchair.
Wooyoung pats his head gently as he says, “No, no, Sangie, trust me. I’ll explain. I got this.” Then, he turns back to Seonghwa and continues, “Yeosang recently found out that the Kangs have been involved in illegal trading in the black market.” At Seonghwa’s lack of reaction, he elaborates, “Okay, I get it, most Pureblood families are. But it’s not the typical ‘old family heirloom with some Dark Arts’ thing, it’s actually really repulsive shit. Like endangered animals and all that —”
Yeosang lifts his face out of his hands. His eyes are burning with raw anger, with more emotion than Seonghwa has probably ever seen out of the entirety of Slytherin House in his seven years at Hogwarts. Yeosang hisses, “It was horrifying. There were unicorn horns that they must’ve killed an entire herd to extract, hundreds of centaur pelts, phoenixes trapped in tiny cages and nearly plucked bald for their feathers, mermaid fins, any magical creature you can think of.”
“Yeah,” Wooyoung cuts in, “Yeosang’s actually the one who saved Mingi and gave him to us when he saw his egg about to hatch.”
“M-mingi? The dragon?” Seonghwa whispers, head reeling.
“And that isn’t even the half of it,” Yeosang mutters darkly. “My parents aren’t just meddling in the market, they’re the heads of the operations. They’re literally trafficking and killing these innocent creatures, and for what? For more money? The stuff that our family has been rolling in for centuries? And they came to me, gave me an ultimatum that I had to start working with them soon or else —”
Yeosang breaks off and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. He shudders and takes a deep breath before whispering, “Or else, they’d take Wooyoung and auction him off in the market.”
Seonghwa can’t help but let out a horrified gasp. His eyes flit to Wooyoung, whose disgusted expression and lack of surprise shows that he’s heard the conditions of the ultimatum already.
Yeosang continues, “I couldn’t live with myself if Wooyoung was hurt in any way because of me, but I could never participate in their horrendous trafficking business either, so I faked my death a few days ago and came to Wooyoung.”
Seonghwa is hooked into the story now. He asks, intrigued, “But how did you fake it? How do you know your family fell for it?”
Yeosang’s mouth thins, and Wooyoung grabs his hand in support. After a deep breath, he answers grimly, “When my parents were out for a Ministry function, I wrote a suicide letter and told a house elf to deliver it to my parents. Then, I set off Fiendfyre in my room, transformed into my Animagus form, and safely escaped before the fire grew too large. The wards alert my parents for any high-level Dark magic like this, so I knew that they’d be back soon to investigate and put it out, but not before everything in my room was consumed. That way, they’d have no way of investigating any evidence for my faked death, and they also won’t be able to access my possessions for whatever tracking rituals are up their sleeve.”
Seonghwa eyes him with grudging admiration. The Slytherin’s meticulous plan is fitting of a Ravenclaw — he seems to have covered all the bases. But one last niggling doubt remains.
“How can I trust that what you’ve told me is the truth?” Seonghwa asks.
Immediately, Wooyoung leaps from his seat on Yeosang’s armchair to yell, “I’ll vouch for him, hyung!” At the same time, Yeosang nods and says calmly, “You have a fair point, Seonghwa-sshi. I’m willing to undergo Veritaserum or Legilimency.”
Wooyoung turns a shocked look on his friend. He scoffs, “There’s no need for any of that, Yeosangie!”
“To be honest... I would feel better if Yeosang took Veritaserum,” Seonghwa murmurs. At Wooyoung’s indignant protests, the elder raises a placating hand and adds, “It’s just a precaution, Wooyoung. You cannot fault me for being a little wary, seeing that I’ve barely just met Yeosang, yes?”
Yeosang lays his hand on Wooyoung’s arm and gives him a gentle squeeze. At that, Wooyoung reluctantly relents, opting to stew in mutinous silence as he flops gracelessly into a neighboring chair.
Seonghwa hurries to his back shelf — the one warded against any prying customers and reserved solely for the most dangerous of potions — and grabs a phial of Veritaserum. He administers it to a calm Yeosang, who goes unnervingly still a few seconds after swallowing the potion.
“What is your name?” Seonghwa asks.
“Kang Yeosang,” Yeosang replies mechanically.
“What is your date of birth?”
“June 15th, 1999.”
Seonghwa glances at Wooyoung, and the latter gives a nod of assent. Perfect, the potion is working as normal.
Seonghwa continues his questioning. “Is everything that you told me about your situation true?”
“No.”
Seonghwa’s heart drops, and Wooyoung starts from his chair. “What did you lie about?” Seonghwa queries, fear swirling in his stomach. If it was about the circumstances of his escape, he and Wooyoung would be in deep trouble with the Kangs.
Yeosang answers woodenly, “I did not escape the Fiendfyre unscathed. I received burns on my left abdomen and cheek as I transformed into my Animagus. I am using a Glamour to obscure them as of now.”
Seonghwa's stomach drops; wounds from Cursed spells are typically much harder to heal. Wooyoung gasps, horrified. “Sangie, why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped treat it!”
“I didn’t want you to worry and waste any more resources on me.”
“Oh no, Yeosang, it would never be a waste for you…” Wooyoung trails off. Seonghwa can spot the hurt look on his face from a mile away, and resolves to discuss it later with Wooyoung.
The eldest continues, “Forgive me for confirming this one last thing, but what is your belief on Muggles and Muggleborns?”
Yeosang’s gaze is still oddly blank from the Veritaserum, but the heartfelt passion bleeds through in his voice. “I have not, do not, and never will believe what Voldemort did about Pureblood supremacy. We all live, bleed and die the same as other Muggleborns and Muggles, or even magical creatures. The purity of blood is an arbitrary distinction that has no bearing whatsoever on magical ability. I am sorry, and will always be deeply sorry for the horrific crimes my parents committed under Voldemort’s command on the innocents of the Light Side, and I shall spend a lifetime repenting in whatever way I can.”
Seonghwa’s heart breaks a little for this boy, this brave boy who is willing to stick, ironclad and unmoving, to his morals even when surrounded by depravity, who is selfless in the protection of his friends and gentle with strangers, who found an incredibly strong moral compass despite years and years of Death Eater indoctrination.
“In that case, welcome to Mystique Magickes, Yeosang. We’re happy to have you,” Seognhwa smiles.
As the Veritaserum wears off, the blankness in Yeosang’s eyes is replaced by jubilant astonishment. “R-really?” he gasps. At Seonghwa’s answering nod, an adorably sweet smile breaks out on his face. “Thank you, thank you so much!”
Seonghwa doesn’t think he’s imagining the besotted look on Wooyoung’s face. And oh, isn’t this friendship interesting .
Nonetheless, no one could ever say that Seonghwa is unprofessional, so instead of dwelling on that tidbit of information, he says, “Now, let’s see about getting those burns treated.”
Even one second of a glimpse at Yeosang’s un-Glamoured burns are enough to tell Seonghwa that he’s dealing with something serious. A more detailed investigation yields just what he’d suspected — traces of Dark magic lingering on Yeosang’s skin, preventing the burn from healing.
“You shouldn’t have hidden injuries for that long, particularly ones resulting from Dark magic,” Seonghwa scolds lightly. He pointedly ignores Wooyoung ribbing him for “acting like a forty-year-old mother, seriously, Hwa-hyung,” and retreats to his workshop to draft up ideas for healing potions.”
After hours of feverish scribbling that required Seonghwa to delve back into his Healer roots, he presents a rough draft of a rudimentary potion that could mitigate the most serious aspects of the burns. Wooyoung and Yeosang are now joined by San, who meandered into the shop an hour ago and stayed to keep the two company.
Yeosang skims over the parchment, nodding in agreement, and then says off-handedly, “Why don’t you replace the dragon heartstring with asphodel root? Asphodel has the same healing properties in this instance, perhaps even more potent ones, and it’ll also magnify the effects of the bezoar.”
Seonghwa’s jaw drops in astonishment. “Yeosang, you’re right,” he breathes.
Wooyoung jumps in, “Yeosangie here is a potions genius, hyung. He was top of our year in the subject, hands down, and he’s always wanted to apprentice for a Potions master.”
Yeosang intervenes with a grimace, “No Potions master will take me, what with my name and now that I’m, I don’t know, presumed dead .” The dryness in his voice makes Seonghwa crack a grin.
San jumps in, “What if Seonghwa-hyung takes you in as an apprentice?”
Yeosang’s protest of “I couldn’t possibly inconvenience Seonghwa-sshi like that” overlaps with Seonghwa’s gentle rebuke of “No, Sannie, I’ve always said I don’t need an assistant in the shop.”
Wooyoung, the bastard, cuts in to support his partner-in-crime. “But hyung, you’re always cooped up in here. You work too hard, and every time we see you outside the shop, which is once in a blue moon, you keep fretting over whether customers are waiting and what potions are brewing. Yeosang could help you manage all of that so you can finally go get yourself a boyfriend or something.”
“WOOYOUNG!” Seonghwa yells. He’s mortified. He can’t believe Wooyoung would air all his dirty laundry so flippantly, and in front of a virtual stranger no less. (On second thought, that is exactly something that Wooyoung would do, so maybe Seonghwa just needs to find more loyal friends.)
Seonghwa turns to Yeosang now. “Yeosang, you must understand that I am the farthest thing from a Potions master. I make basic healing salves half the time, and run an apothecary the other half. My skill at brewing any advanced potion past Hogwarts’ fifth-year curriculum is likely extremely rusty,” and oh no, he’s rambling again. Seonghwa supposes that if his less-than-exemplary potions-making abilities hadn’t scared away Kang Yeosang, his habit of running his mouth in the most inappropriate times certainly would do the job.
“All in all,” Seonghwa clears his throat self-consciously, “I’m afraid I will be a very poor mentor to you —”
Before he can even finish his sentence, Yeosang cuts in firmly, “Seonghwa-sshi, you are my only option for anything remotely resembling a Potions master, given that the rest of the world literally believes me to be dead. And even if it was not so, I know of your talent in Potions.”
“M-my talent?” he stutters out.
“Yes, of course. Professor Malfoy would always praise you to the moon and back in nearly every single class, and he never gives praise easily. Plus, all of us knew that you were the student assistant to go to if we wanted the smartest and hottest —” At this, Yeosang breaks off and flushes slightly.
Amidst Seonghwa’s wide-eyed stare, San snickers and says, “I feel like I’m listening to someone declare their undying love in those Muggle k-dramas.”
And that was how, within the span of a year, Seonghwa went from opening an apothecary shop on an unfamiliar street to becoming the best of friends with three unlikely companions.