Archive of Our Own

— 1.

The grounds are beautiful this time of year, still a brilliant green before the leaves fall and the bitter wind sweeps all the color away. Ryujin sprawls on the grass with an open textbook, reading and half-heartedly taking notes while pretending she isn’t just relaxing, soaking up the sun while it’s still warm. 

“Hey, you!” A familiar voice calls from the top of the hill to her right. 

Ryujin perks up from her homework, rolling over and propping her head up with one hand so she can look up the hill. The sun is to her back, which means it shines right onto Jisu so it appears as though she’s glowing while she makes her way down the slope, arms raised to keep her balance. A smile stretches across Ryujin’s face, and she lifts a hand in a wave.

“What’s up?” Ryujin calls, already pushing herself up so she’s sitting as Jisu draws closer. 

Jisu slides down the rest of the incline and hops a few steps before she regains her balance, smiling in spite of the tumble—or maybe because of it—she’s not easily discouraged, but she is easily amused. “I thought I’d find you out here,” she says in answer. “You working?”

“Trying to, at least,” Ryujin admits. “I’m not great at focusing when it’s this nice out, though.”

“I’d be impressed if you were,” Jisu says easily. “I got so distracted watching the clouds the other day I was almost late to Potions!”

Ryujin tries not to laugh—really, she does—but a small chuckle bubbles out of her despite her efforts. “But you did make it in time?”

Jisu claps her hands together. “Of course!” Her smile turns playful. “Nearly broke the sound barrier sprinting there, though.”

More laughter bursts from Ryujin before she can hold it back, and Jisu’s smile turns blinding, like she’s reflecting the full brightness of the sun.

“Anyway…” Jisu twists a curl of hair around her finger while Ryujin’s laughter subsides. “I was wondering if you wanted to study together or something. I’ve got some Charms work that I thought might be cool to do with you.”

“Of course!” Ryujin doesn’t even have to give it a second thought. “What kind of charms are we talking?”

Jisu lets her hair fall back into place with the rest of the bouncy curls she’d gotten from braids the day before. She points to Ryujin’s hair instead. “Advanced color change—I remember you’ve wanted to switch your hair up, right? Well, this’ll only last for a little bit, but it’s a start. You’ll get a couple days if it works out really well, and I can always do it again, if you want!”

Something warm rises in Ryujin’s chest. “Yeah! My parents never let me do it with real dye ‘cuz it’s too permanent and too muggle for magic school, and I’ve never been good enough at charms like that to try doing it myself, especially since they have to be recast so much.”

“That’s where I come in!” Jisu says, sounding genuinely excited. “I’ve been practicing a lot with people’s cats, but I think Sarang got tired of being orange and purple and—well, I did get too excited and accidentally do polka-dots at some point, but that was just once! And I fixed it right away!” 

Ryujin bites her lip to keep from laughing again at the mental image of Yuna’s proud little cat getting a glimpse of a polka-dotted tail. “You won’t give me polka-dots, right?”

Jisu crosses her arms in front of her in a large x and says, “Never.”

A smile spreads across Ryujin’s face. “I’d forgive you even if you did—honestly it’d be pretty funny. I think I could make it work, too.”

Jisu waves a hand through the air. “You could probably pull off anything, but I’ll make sure the charm is perfect. Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

“Anything?” Ryujin asks, quirking a brow. She’d been joking, at least a bit, when she said she could make polka-dots work—just hoping Jisu might giggle a little in that way that makes her nose scrunch up and her whole face bright.

“Of course,” Jisu says with a sure nod. “You’re the prettiest girl in sixth year.” In the sunlight, her skin looks golden, her cheeks rosy.

Ryujin is shocked silent for a second. She’d been expecting Jisu to joke back, but there’s an earnesty to her that makes something flutter in Ryujin’s chest. Surprise? Maybe… confusion? Pride? That must be it—some strange mix of the bunch.

“Ah, such high praise from the prettiest seventh year herself.” Ryujin presses a hand to her chest. “Flattery really will get you anywhere! Let’s get this party started then; spruce me up!”

Jisu’s mouth curls in a small smile, almost shy, like she’s suddenly a little nervous to cast a charm on Ryujin, but her hands are still calm and practiced and certain when she pulls out her wand. “So, what color do you want?”

Ryujin shifts, tucking her legs under herself while she considers. At first she wants to say pink, but it might clash with her robes and she doesn’t care too much about that, but for some reason, she really wants this to turn out perfect for Jisu—not a single thing for her to find wrong with her handiwork. Blue seems like it would be pretty, but Ryujin can’t wear another house’s colors no matter how nice they look. 

While she thinks, her eyes drift across Jisu’s face, down the shining waves of her hair and to the yellow of the tie hanging loosely around her neck. In the sunlight, it’s more golden than ever—nearly matching the stripes on Ryujin’s. It sparks a thought that makes Ryujin grin, finally satisfied. She snaps her fingers together in decided victory.

“How about blond? Not platinum or anything like that, but something warm. Like… honey.” Ryujin nods. Yes—that. That’s what she wants. That’ll be perfect.

“Oh!” Jisu’s face brightens. “I thought you’d go for something crazier, but I think that’ll look so good on you.”

“Crazy can wait for another time,” Ryujin jokes. “Let’s see how this goes first.”

“Are you doubting me now, in the final hour?” Jisu feigns hurt by pressing a hand to her chest like she’s been hit dead-on by a hex.

Ryujin bites back a laugh and does her best to sound serious when she says, “Never in a million years. I have total faith in you and your charms.”

Jisu sighs with a smile on her face. “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not, but it’s good enough for me either way.” She raises her wand, pointing it at Ryujin’s head, and a small thrill rushes up Ryujin’s spine. Jisu waves her wand in a smooth arc through the air, making a small loop as she says the charm in a clear voice: “Colovaria.”

The magic hits Ryujin like a warm breeze, tingling against her scalp. She watches Jisu’s face to see her reaction to the charm taking hold, unworried because she really does trust that Jisu will  succeed, but curious nonetheless. For a moment, Jisu’s face stays stuck in that focused look of hers—lips pursed and brows slightly furrowed as she squints like it’ll improve her vision—but then the fine line creasing her forehead smooths and her face evens out. Jisu’s lips spread into a cherry smile and Ryujin feels herself start to grin as well.

“So it worked?” Ryujin asks.

Jisu kneels on the grass in front of Ryujin and reaches out with her free hand to catch a lock of Ryujin’s hair in her fingers. She twists it lightly and lifts it out for Ryujin to see as well. “Like a charm,” she jokes. Her face is a bit flushed, no doubt from the concentration she’d poured into the spell. She looks decidedly happy with the results of her work. “You look amazing.”

Ryujin forces herself to look away from Jisu’s face and investigate her charmed hair so she can see for herself. Her eyes drift down to Jisu’s outstretched hand, to the lock of her own hair threaded through her fingers. It is indeed no longer a deep brown, but a rich honey-blond instead—spun gold by the autumn sun shining down on them. Ryujin smiles wider. “It’s perfect. As expected, you’re the best when it comes to charms.”

Looking back up to Jisu, Ryujin finds her practically glowing, not just from the sun but also from the praise. It’s clear that she’s worked as hard at mastering this charm as she works on everything else, because dedication is practically her middle name. Ryujin knows that recognition from her isn’t really as important as it might be from a teacher or someone truly proficient in charms, but she just couldn't help the admiration that poured into her voice, and it warms her core to see that Jisu still treats her compliments like they’re as important as anything else. Like her words and her admiration matter.

“I studied and practiced this one extra hard,” Jisu admits. “I wanted to make sure it was perfect.” 

“It shows,” Ryujin assures her. “And clearly it paid off. I’m impressed—you really are so dedicated to getting good marks for this charm!”

Jisu laughs, drawing her hand back and letting Ryujin’s hair slip out of her hold. She shifts her weight onto her heels. “Yeah.” She glances away, running her fingers through the curls at the back of her head as if they need smoothing out. As if she doesn’t already look perfect. “All about those grades.” Another small laugh slips out of her as she looks at Ryujin again. “Speaking of—you still wanna study together for a bit?’

Ryujin blinks. She’d forgotten all about her notes, and the rest of her homework, too. But the answer is easy regardless of the blip in her memory. “Totally.”

“Great!” Jisu smiles as she settles into place beside Ryujin and pulls out what appears to be an essay. 

Ryujin lies down again, getting comfortable as she prepares to dive back into her reading. Her hair is still gold where it hangs down in her line of sight, and though the text hasn’t changed in the slightest, it doesn’t seem quite so daunting as it had before. With Jisu humming quietly to her left, Ryujin lifts her quill and gets to work with her spirits higher than ever.

—  2.

“I’m so excited for this match!” Yuna cheers, a hand raised in a fist like she’s already in the stands and rooting for a play.

Ryujin can’t help sharing her enthusiasm. It’s the first quidditch match of the year, and while that’s already a major event, this one is Hufflepuff versus Ravenclaw, which means her best friends are playing. Ryujin is more than excited to see them in action—both to cheer them on and to assess the competition she’ll face when they match up against Gryffindor. She knows Yuna is bursting with excitement for the same reasons.

“Yeji’s been super fired up all day,” Jisu comments, a bit more calm, but still with a noticeable pep in her step as they all leave the castle together, heading towards the quidditch pitch.

“Chaeryeong too,” Ryujin says. “I thought she was gonna vibrate out of her seat during Transfiguration.” She lowers her voice a bit. “I’m a little worried it was more nerves than anything else, though.”

“Oh, right.” Jisu’s voice is understanding. “Because she’s the seeker now?”

“Yeah—since Jiwoo graduated, she finally got it.”

“I think she’s gonna do great!” Yuna says, ever the optimist. 

“I agree,” Ryujin nods. “Yeji wouldn’t give her the spot if she wasn’t the best one at tryouts, and all summer in her letters she was talking about her practicing with Chaeyeon. It’s just a matter of believing in herself enough now to push through the nerves and play at her best.”

“We’ll have to cheer extra hard, then,” Jisu decides. She knocks her elbow gently into Ryujin’s side. “You’ll get to show off those great pipes of yours.”

Ryujin’s cheeks warm and she glances away sheepishly. Last time she’d watched a game with Jisu, she’d accidentally screamed right in her ear. It had been mortifying and she still feels bad about it even though Jisu doesn’t hold a serious grudge—she just likes poking a bit of friendly fun.

“Good thing I made a killer sign,” Yuna says, shaking the obtrusively yellow poster clutched in her left hand and sprinkling glitter on the grass as they draw closer to the quidditch pitch. They’re arriving early to ensure good seats, but there are small clumps of people already heading that way as well. Soon it’ll turn from a trickle into a stream, and then to a wave of chaos as nearly the whole school tries to stuff themselves into the high stands to watch the first real spectacle of the year. 

“Chaeryeong will be able to see that no matter how far up she flies,” Ryujin remarks dryly.

Yuna knocks a shoulder against hers. “That’s the plan, isn’t it?”

Ryujin lets out a light laugh and glances to her other side to find Jisu with a soft smile on her face. “I’m glad this first game isn’t pitting you all against each other; you’re so cute when you cheer for each other instead.”

“I’m always cute,” Yuna corrects.

Jisu’s smile turns into a full laugh and her nose scrunches and her eyes turn into happy half-moons, and Ryujin forgets to watch her step, and promptly trips. Jisu catches her arms and keeps her steady, pulling her close before letting go. “Don’t get too excited, Ryujin, you’ll hurt yourself.” She’s kind even as she teases.

Ryujin feels warmth rise in her ears, spreading down her neck and brushing her cheeks. “Can’t help it,” she says sheepishly.

“Well I’ll help you, then.” Jisu offers her a warm smile and holds out a hand again.

Ryujin stares at Jisu’s upturned palm and nearly trips again. Her eyes lift back to Jisu’s face in question.

“Hold it, silly,” Jisu laughs. 

To the right, Yuna snickers quietly, conspiratorially, but Ryujin doesn’t hear over the din of voices reaching them from the stands and the surprising sound of her own heartbeat in her ears. She must be more embarrassed than she thought, for her face to be burning and her heart to be pounding like this. Nevertheless, she’s awfully bad at saying no to that sweet look on Jisu’s face, or any of her offers, so Ryujin does the only sensible thing she can and takes Jisu’s hand. 

Jisu wraps her fingers gently around Ryujin’s and squeezes once before turning her eyes forward again, stepping the slightest bit ahead of Ryujin so she can duck through the opening to the stands they’ve finally reached. She pulls Ryujin carefully along after her, and Yuna brings up the rear.

Bright afternoon light streams through the open parts of the stands as they make their way up the steps to the top, and emerge into the full force of the sunshine once more, the familiar field laid out far below them. Something at once calm and giddy courses through Ryujin’s veins at the sight, at the mere feeling of being back here. It’s both familiar and exciting—like returning home for Christmas break without the long train ride.

Jisu leads the way past gaggles of students already gathering to pick out the spots they want before it becomes too crowded to even move. Ryujin sticks close to her—she has to, after all. In no time at all, they’ve made it to their favorite seats; they’re close to the middle, favoring today’s Hufflepuff side just a bit. Jisu plops down and smooths out her robes over her lap with one hand, the other still secure around Ryujin’s.

Ryujin settles down at Jisu’s side, Yuna following and sandwiching Ryujin in the middle. 

“And now we wait!” Yuna says, setting her poster down on the stands next to her and pulling her bag into her lap, rummaging through it for homework to get done while the stands slowly fill and the hour of the game draws closer. 

“Did you bring something to work on?” Ryujin asks Jisu, tilting her head. She keeps expecting Jisu to let go of her hand now that they’re seated, but their clasped hands still rest together on Jisu’s thigh like she has no intention of pulling away. 

Ryujin doesn’t mind that it’s a little confusing. It’s nice to hold hands, and especially with Jisu—her skin is soft and her touch is gentle, and there’s something else, too. Maybe the familiarity that comes with being friends for so many years.

“Yeah,” Jisu sighs, enthusiasm briefly overshadowed by fatigue from a long week of classes which must be harder than ever this year. “I’ve been trying not to think about it.”

A sound of sympathy slips out of Ryujin; she knows the feeling. Her own bag is weighed down by a dull assignment from her dullest class, just waiting for her to dig it out and bite the bullet. “Well if we’re both working, maybe it’ll be easier!” She feels intensely motivated to bring a smile back to Jisu’s face, to bolster her up and see the sag of her shoulders vanish. “We can cheer each other on to get ready for cheering at the game.”

Jisu looks sideways at her and there’s a complicated look on her pretty face. It seems overall positive, though, so Ryujin offers up a hopeful smile and squeezes Jisu’s hand. In a second, Jisu mirrors the smile and returns the squeeze like an echo, like the second half of the beat of a heart.

“Sounds good.” Jisu relaxes her fingers, not quite letting go, but letting Ryujin slip her hand free. 

Ryujin almost forgets to, staying still for a few seconds after the fact, but then she finds she needs both hands to swing her bag around and root through it, and loses the warmth of Jisu’s palm to haul out an ungodly heavy textbook and dump it onto her lap. 

After a moment, Jisu busies herself with her own work as well, and for a while the three of them are relatively silent, intent on making as much progress as possible before the stands fill around them and they have to stow their things away once more. 

With the arrival of so many people, the air of excitement returns to the trio, and as soon as their bags and secured at their feet, Ryujin can practically feel that all their umbrage about needing to do schoolwork on such a lovely day and before such an anticipated event has faded away entirely, replaced by pure enthusiasm. 

By the time the players step out onto the field far below, the stands are packed full and bustling with restless energy. Ryujin stands shoulder to shoulder between Jisu and Yuna, and cheers along with everyone else as the match starts and the stands erupt in shouts and whoops and hollers. 

There’s chaos from the get go: Yeji snatches the quaffle out of the air and is off like a shot towards the Ravenclaw goalposts. The other team’s chasers are right on her tail, trying to box her in, but she’s like a bird in the wind, swooping and dipping and managing to keep just far enough away to carry on. Three quarters of the way across the field, she feints right to throw off a chaser coming at her from above, and passes the ball to a waiting Felix—they’ve clearly been coming up with new strategies. 

The Ravenclaw chasers scatter and reform as Felix bolts ahead. A beater slugs one of the bludgers at him, but he’s quick enough to dodge out of the way. Just as it looks like he’s about to aim for the left-hand hoop, he passes the ball back to Yeji and she shoots it clean through the closets hoop a split second before the Ravenclaw keeper can redirect and block.

Yuna shrieks loud enough to shatter glass and thrusts her sign up in the air, waving it around like a maniac. Ryujin is only half a breath behind her, throat burning and chest overflowing with the thrill of the game, of watching her friends succeed. 

The game carries on, and both teams steal points back and forth as the two seekers flit around in the sky like multicolored specs. Every now and then, Ryujin’s eyes drift away from the main action to find Chaeryeong combing the sky. Though she can’t see her, she knows her eyes are bright and alert, that she’s twitchy and attentive all the way up there, pouring everything into her role. 

A few times, it seems like either Chaeryeong or the Ravenclaw seeker, Park Jisung, have spotted the snitch as they both go shooting off after something impossible for anyone else to see, but they’re either false alarms or fients to trick each other, or they lose track of the shining golden ball before one of them can snatch it up.

One of the times Ryujin is watching the seekers rather than the chasers, her attention is snapped back to the main play by a sharp gasp from Jisu to her left. It’s so loud that Ryujin can hear it even over the clamor of the rest of the spectators. 

“Yeji!”

Ryujin’s eyes jump to Yeji. A split second later she sees why Jisu is crying out in alarm; there’s a bludger hurtling towards Yeji—no, not her broom like someone wanted to knock her off-course, her— and she’s so focused on chasing down the quaffle that she doesn’t seem to have noticed it coming at her from behind yet. Ryujin’s heart leaps into her throat to choke her. It’s a dirty play. Dirtier than the Ravenclaw team usually goes for, but Hufflepuff is leading in points, so maybe they’re getting desperate as the game drags on.

Yuna has stiffened at Ryujin’s other side, her shrieking turning from exuberate to alarmed. As Ryujin watches, bracing herself for the worst, she sees another player streak through the air towards Yeji. At the last second, Yeji swoops into a dive, and one of the Hufflepuff beaters, Na Jaemin, wails the oncoming bludger away from her with a fierce swing. 

The sigh of overwhelming relief that rushes out of Ryujin and her friends is audible, heavy enough to feel. Ryujin’s hands shake as she watches Yeji speed away with what must be newfound determination. Jaemin swings around, bat clutched in one hand, and the next time he hits the bludger, it’s to send it rocketing after the Ravenclaws. 

Jisu cheers loudly to Ryujin’s right, hands clenched in fists, raised up to her shoulder in front of her. “Thank goodness for him! I was so worried, but that was so cool! I get why everyone always says good things about him—he’s great!”

Something hot flares up in Ryujin’s stomach, and her eyes narrow on Jaemin’s form as he flits across the pitch, going after the other bludger. That wasn’t anything special; he just did his job. It’d be more noteworthy if he hadn’t come in with a save since that’s exactly what he’s on the team to do. Why—  

Before Ryujin’s train of thought can continue, another burst of motion catches her attention and derails everything in her mind. High and to the left, towards the Hufflepuff end of the pitch, Chaeryeong is diving like a bullet. A streak of blue just barely behind her says that Jisung is as well. The snitch.

Ryujin rises unconsciously up onto her toes, anticipation flooding through her as her eyes track Chaeryeong’s movement through the air. Down, down, down, and then a sharp turn to the right, racing around the curve of the end of the stands. Jisung is hot on her tail and gaining as she shoots forward, and Ryujin realizes they’re going to fly right past her. 

It’s all so quick that she doesn’t even get a glimpse of the snitch before Chaeryeong and Jisung are right there in front of them. They rocket away just as fast as they’d arrived, in nearly the blink of an eye. Chaeryeong banks sharp to the left and then angles nearly straight up. Between one second and the next, she’s reached out and spun through the air. Then, for the first time in minutes, she slows to a dead stop, arm held up in triumph, hand opening to reveal the tamed fluttering of the golden snitch’s wings.

The stands practically explode. Everyone around Ryujin is shouting and cheering and Ryujin can barely even hear her own exuberate hollers over the din of the crowd. She can feel it raw in her throat though, and all the energy that’s been building up in her as the game stretched on finally fills her to the brim and erupts in a cheer of Chaeryeong’s name and her own arms reaching up to the sky. She chants Yeji’s name next, then it’s just a mess of Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff! as the victorious team swarms into a giant tangled mess of limbs and brooms around Chaeryeong.

As Jisu’s overjoyed voice cheering their friends names hits Ryujin’s ears, she finds herself hoping that this is how Jisu will cheer for her when she plays. When she wins, because Ryujin refuses to lose when her turn comes. That will be much later, though, and for now she has a different win to celebrate, and she throws herself into it wholeheartedly.

It’s such a perfect end to the game that Ryujin forgets for the time being that the afternoon and match had been anything other than overwhelmingly perfect as well. That’s a problem for another time. For now, she just lets herself be swept along with the tide, and enjoys every moment of it. 

— 3.

“Oh boy, I know that look.”

“You know nothing,” Ryujin grumbles. 

Chaeryeong smiles, the picture of innocence. She clasps her hands together as she bounces down the hall beside Ryujin, who, unfortunately, also recognizes the look on her face to mean she’s just waiting to be proven correct.

They’re less than five minutes from the Great Hall—two if Ryujin decides to really book it—when her stomach growls. It is a truly menacing sound that had her convinced as a child that there was a gremlin living inside her. ( “Are you sure you’ve disproven that theory?” Yuna had asked, once, as a first year already too bold for her own good. “It would explain why you get so hangry all the time.” When Ryujin threatened to hex her as payback, it had only made her laugh. “You’re just proving my point!” ) It also makes Chaeryeong giggle happily because it’s exactly the proof she was waiting for.

“Don’t say it.” Ryujin holds up a hand to silence Chaeryeong before she starts celebrating how well she knows her and her many facial expressions and moods. 

Chaeryeong mimes zipping her mouth shut, but that hardly stops the giggling. It’s probably the best Ryujin can hope for, but she still tsks in irritation. Even now, years after Yuna’s brash comment faded to memory, she can still hear her voice clear as day in her head. Hangry little goblin. 

Maybe life would’ve been easier if she’d been sorted into Hufflepuff and could sneak into the kitchens whenever she wanted to feed her pesky stomach and the goblin that may or may not actually reside there. It seems to have worked out pretty well for Chaeryeong, if her sunny smile and the spring in her step (and the enchanted, ever-full bag of snacks she keeps stashed in her robes) is anything to go off of. 

They turn right at a fork in the corridor and Ryujin nearly barrels over a young Ravenclaw with their head stuck in a book who is not walking nearly fast enough for the lunch rush. It takes all of her remaining willpower to keep from snapping at the poor kid, and actually dodge them rather than letting natural selection take over as she tramples them. Hunger and Professor Park’s painfully dull lesson have left her too antsy and irritable to think clearly enough for proper politeness, so she blows past the near-accident without a word, but she can hear Chaeryeong behind her apologize to the kid. 

“Be sure to watch where you’re going,” Chaeryeong reminds the clueless little Ravenclaw, before catching up to Ryujin again. “Should I get you a snack pouch for Christmas this year?” she asks, a teasing lilt to her voice. “Maybe then you won’t get so grumpy before meals.”

The childish part of Ryujin wants to grumble that she is not grumpy, thank you very much, but she knows it would be a lie—a bad one at that. She opts for silence instead, because stoic brooding is probably better than complaining like a child. 

Chaeryeong takes the silence in stride—too used to Ryujin’s moods to be very bothered—and they make it to the Great Hall for lunch without further incident. Ryujin practically dives into her favorite spot at the Gryffindor table because it’s her day to pick their seats, and Chaeryeong slides in next to her with a poorly concealed grin at Ryujin’s enthusiasm. 

“You’d think they’ve been starving you,” Chaeryeong says lightly as she digs right into a bowl of soup.

“And you’d be correct,” Ryujin says around a mouthful of chicken, because she’ll be damned if she stops eating for a second now that she’s got food in front of her, even if it’s to voice her very valid and very correct opinions. “No snacks in class is practically child cruelty. It’s blasphemous.”

“You just have to learn how and what to sneak in,” Chaeryeong tells her like they’ve never had this conversation before. Like Ryujin hasn’t been caught sneaking food in class before and had to spend a sunny afternoon cleaning Professor Park’s supply closet because his ego is so fragile he can’t handle his students being even the slightest bit ‘distracted’ during his ‘riveting’ lessons. Nevermind that her brain functioning drops exponentially as her hunger grows and that’s more distracting than any snack could be. If Ryujin goes down that train of thought she’ll just get frustrated all over again.

So, she hums noncommittally, focusing on the explosion of flavor from the chicken, on the glorious taste of the food she’s finally gotten her hands on. Already she can feel it soothing her frayed nerves, and maybe it’s just placebo, but if it works, it works. The first piece is gone within a minute, and she’s moving onto a second when something catches her eyes across the hall. 

At the over-large doors to the Great Hall, she spots a familiar face, scrunched up in laughter. Jisu’s hair falls in loose, barely-there waves around her shoulders, and even without the matching yellow of her tie and headband, she’s a sunny presence regardless of the distance.

Ryujin perks up at the sight, and belatedly notices Yeji has entered the hall with Jisu as well. Ryujin nudges Chaeryeong and nods her chin in the direction of the new arrivals in her best non-verbal approximation of, “Call them over—my mouth is full.” 

Chaeryeong follows her line of sight to the girls, and if Ryujin were paying attention to her, she’d see a spark of something light up her face. As is, it's just out of the corner of her eye that she catches Chaeryeong lifting an arm and waving. 

Yeji spots them and waves back, an easy smile on her face. Jisu doesn’t notice, though, already making a beeline for the Hufflepuff table. Ryujin swallows down her chicken and opens her mouth to call Jisu over herself, but as her eyes track Jisu’s path and she realizes where Jisu is heading, Ryujin’s mouth snaps shut again. 

Maybe she’ll pass him, her mind supplies. Maybe it’s something else. The hope lasts for a moment, but no—Jisu comes to a stop and plops down right next to Na Jaemin. What the hell? Ryujin stares across the hall as Jisu leans an elbow against the table and tilts her head at Jaemin, mouth moving around words Ryujin can’t make out from a distance.

“Um.” Ryujin can’t tear her eyes away from the Hufflepuff table. “Are they friends or something?”  

Chaeryeong glances across the hall to see what Ryujin is looking at so intently, and shrugs. “Dunno,” she hums in between sipping at her soup. “Maybe Yeji knows.”

Ryujin blinks, and realizes Yeji is in fact heading towards them, successfully summoned by Chaeryeong’s wave. Behind her, Jisu is smiling at something Jaemin has said, running a hand through her hair like does when she’s nervous, or shy. Something flares up in Ryujin’s stomach, hot and uncomfortable. Irritation crawls down her back like a loose bug from the Care of Magical Creatures course. 

What the hell? Ryujin thinks again. It’s not like she hates Jaemin or anything (she barely knows him) and she certainly isn’t in the habit of policing her friends’ friends—this is just confusing. What business could Jisu possibly have with him that would have her leaning in conspiratorially like that? And what could make Jaemin put down his spoon and rest his chin on his hand, and give her his full attention? Ryujin remembers the last quidditch match and her stomach squeezes.

Ryujin’s teeth grind together, and it’s as though the gremlin inside her has grown fangs and claws and a nasty temper. For a second, Ryujin can’t fathom why. Then Jisu raises a goblet of water to her lips and takes a long drink and it clicks into place. Of course. Ryujin is still hungry—starving, honestly. She hasn’t even finished her second piece of chicken. How silly. 

Yeji slides into the spot across from Chaeryeong and pulls Ryujin’s attention back to her own table as she greets them with a cheery hello. Ryujin offers her as best a smile as she can muster before practically inhaling the rest of her chicken. While she scarfs down a totally healthy and rounded lunch, Chaeryeong and Yeji chat around their much more respectable bites of food. They recap all their classes of the day before Ryujin finally figures she’s filled herself up enough to calm the gremlin stomping around in her stomach. She chugs her whole goblet of water and finally leans back to breathe.

“Good chicken?” Yeji asks when she sees that Ryujin has at last pushed aside her plate. 

Ryujin nods. The kitchens always serve the best food, and though today’s was no more special than usual, she’d been hungry enough that even subpar food probably would have been as good as gold to her. She registers, distantly, that Yeji is probably poking a bit of fun at her for not having a more diverse spread, but the thought falls away as her eyes drift back to the Hufflepuff table and she sees that Jisu and Jaemin are still chatting away.

“What’s with them?” Ryujin asks, pointing at the pair. 

Yeji twists around. “Oh, Jisu was saying she had something she wanted to ask him. Not sure what.” When Yeji turns back to face Ryujin again, though, there’s something almost knowing to her face.

“I didn’t even know they talked.” Ryujin must need a more balanced lunch after all, because there’s still a tick of irritation in her brow. She swipes some broccoli and chews it with a little more force than necessary.

“Well you know Jisu—she’s friendly with everyone.” Yeji smiles. “Besides, we all get along in Hufflepuff! Voted nicest house every year!”

Ryujin grumbles something unintelligible around another stump of broccoli. 

“Anyway,” Yeji says, waving a hand amiably, “how were your classes today?”

“Professor Park is busting my balls like always,” Ryujin sighs. To her left, Chaeryeong chokes a bit on a spoonful of soup, half-laughing, half-coughing. Ryujin gives Chaeryeong’s back an apologetic slap to help her clear her throat. 

A wry smile spreads across Yeji’s face. “Well, other than him?”

Ryujin shrugs. Honestly, Professor Park’s class was so long and painful to get through that Ryujin’s already forgotten everything from Transfiguration beforehand. It can’t have been anything great, though, considering the foul mood she hasn’t been able to shake even with lunch. She shoves another bite of broccoli into her mouth so she doesn’t have to give any more of an answer. Yeji seems to catch the drift, and turns her attention back to her own food.

It’s quiet for a minute, Chaeryeong mumbling something about Herbology while she helps herself to a bite of rice from Yeji’s plate. Ryujin’s eyes drift across the hall and land on Jisu’s back once more. She finally seems to be focusing on her food now instead of Jaemin, and some of Ryujin’s ruffled feathers smooth over. As she watches, Jisu tucks a lock of hair over her shoulder to keep her food safe from any potential contamination, and it shines where the sunlight slants through the high windows and brushes gently over her figure. 

Ryujin lets out a breath, and relaxes in her seat, taking a sip of water to wash down her last bite of food. Good, she thinks, finally—that hangry little bastard got its fill and remembered how to chillax. No longer feeling like she might jinx someone at one wrong look, she musters up the strength to be nice and social and really mean it.

She turns to Yeji again. “So, what’ve you got after this?”

— 4.

On a Sunday afternoon, Ryujin finds herself scouring the castle in search of Dallie instead of lounging in the common room with a book, or—heaven help her—even getting ahead on assignments. Her cat has always been an explorer, going on adventures around the halls and discovering nooks and crannies unknown to most students, but it’s been a while since the last time Dallie had shown back up in the common room for food or attention, so Ryujin has taken it upon herself to investigate. 

She passes numerous cats on her way, but none of them are hers, and few of them pay her any mind because she doesn’t have snacks on her and the cats here all have a sixth sense for those sorts of things. The journey takes Ryujin all the way down from Gryffindor tower towards the lower floors, through winding corridors and past countless talkative portraits, none of whom have any helpful information whatsoever but all seem very determined to listen to the sound of their own voice for as long as possible. 

Eventually, Ryujin passes a heavy wooden door, slightly ajar and creaking, and her curiosity pulls her off course for a moment as she lifts a hand to the cold, crooked knob. She nudges the door open and peers inside at an empty room with squat little windows in just the right spots to direct slants of sunlight through the air and into neat squares on the floor. The rather small room seems as though it has been untouched for a while.

It’s not uncommon to happen upon rooms one has never seen before in a castle as vast and complex as Hogwarts, but it still excites Ryujin as much as it had in her first year when she’d gotten distracted and lost more times than she could count. She almost wishes she were out exploring just for the sake of it, rather than to hunt down her stray cat, so she could properly poke around and take her time doing the very thing she suspects Dallie has been doing all week. Who knows what she might find if she went looking for mystery.

Alas, Ryujin sighs, she has a mission that is unrelated to uncovering secret rooms or passages or anything else that might spice up an otherwise quiet afternoon. She’s about to slip back into the hall and carry on, when a rattling in the room catches her attention. At the very back is another door, shaking in its frame. A long, dark carpet lies before it like a shadow born without any source of light. Ryujin stares, weighing her options, but it’s a simple decision, really. Of course she can’t leave without seeing what the fuss is—what kind of Gryffindor would she be then?

So Ryujin picks her way across the room with equal measures of care and purpose, and prods the rattling door with her toe. The shaking cuts off abruptly, then returns with a newfound fervor. Ryujin takes a step back and to the side, and pulls out her wand. She aims it at the knob and whispers, “Alohomora.” 

The door comes ajar on squeaky hinges, no longer rattling, but there is no other discernible change. Ryujin waits with bated breath to see if anything else will happen, but the room falls utterly still and silent. Strange, though that’s pretty par for the course with this place. 

Ryujin takes an experimental step forward, curiosity impossible to abate without action. Another few small steps and she’s crept all the way up to the door. She hooks her toe around the bottom corner of the door and nudges it open a bit more. The hinges squeal, and all at once, something bursts out of the darkness at her. 

An extremely undignified shriek peals out of her as that something makes a swipe at her face and she just barely stumbles back out of the way. A gust of cold air plows into her and a set of wickedly orange disembodied eyes flash in the dark in front of her, and Ryujin loses her balance in her recoil, tripping to the floor, fall cushioned only by the carpet. A shrill, mean laugh echoes through the air as Ryujin’s wand slips from her hand and goes clattering across the floor, out of reach. 

“You little—” Ryujin starts to shout, but before she can scramble to her feet, the rug is yanked out from under her and she goes tumbling, knocking her knees and elbows against the ground before she lands flat on her back, sprawled out and glaring at the ceiling. She doesn’t even get a moment to catch her breath before the end of the carpet is thrown over her and she’s being rolled up like a cinnamon bun. 

Ryujin lets out a slew of nearly every muggle curse she knows and kicks and squirms and wonders if it’s possible to kill something that’s not technically even alive. 

“GOT YOU! GOT YOU! GOT YOU!” Peeves chants, zipping around the room over Ryujin’s head and cackling like a maniac. 

“Screw you! You little—”

“Impedimenta!” A new voice cuts through the air. 

Ryujin watches with no small measure of satisfaction as a flash of light hits Peeves overhead and his taunting flitting back and forth turns snail-slow. His cackling turns irate as his mischief is foiled, but even as his mouth opens wide to make god knows what unpleasant noise to compensate for being hexed, the voice comes again, clear as still water and a calm sort of furious. It’s familiar, though the fury in it less so. 

“Langlock.” 

In an instant, that pesky mouth snaps shut and Peeves is unable to make any sound. 

“Now get out of here unless you want to be hexed into next year!” 

The face Peeves makes is, well, peeved, but he floats away as quickly as he can (not very) and disappears. Ryujin unrolls herself from the rug with what calm and dignity she can salvage after being harassed by the poltergeist. 

“Are you all right? Oh—Ryujin!” Jisu’s voice rises in surprise as Ryujin emerges from the dusty rug cocoon on her hands and knees and sneezes violently. 

Ryujin lets out a sheepish laugh when she looks at her friend. “Hey, Jisu. What’s up?”

Jisu crosses the room in just a few quick strides, kneeling in front of Ryujin and brushing dust and lint off her shoulders and arms. “Are you hurt at all?” Her eyes rake over Ryujin’s face, shining with concern, as she tucks a lock of ruffled hair behind Ryujin’s ear with gentle fingers.

Ryujin shakes her head. She’ll probably bruise a little, but if anything had taken a real hit, it’d been her pride—letting herself get baited and jumped by the school poltergeist like that.

“Well, that’s good,” Jisu says with a sigh, sitting back on her heels and pulling her hands into her lap. “I heard a scream and Peeves—” she grits out his name in frustration “—and came as fast as I could. He’s been terrorizing the first year Hufflepuffs on their way to the common room lately because a few of them still get lost, so I was worried he’d gotten one of them again.”

Heat burns Ryujin’s ears.

“It’s a relief it wasn’t that, though,” Jisu continues. “I mean—not that it’s good that he went after you, but I know you could’ve handled it even without me. Probably would’ve hexed him even worse, right?” She lets out a light laugh and offers a hand to Ryujin.

Ryujin takes it without thought, and Jisu uses the hold to pull them both back to their feet. “I guess,” Ryujin mumbles, still embarrassed that she’s lost her bearings and her wand when Peeves rushed her.

“But I’m glad I came anyway.” Jisu doesn’t let go of Ryujin’s hand. “I’m glad I got to help you, even if you didn’t need it.”

“I needed it a little,” Ryujin admits, eyes on the floor, looking for her wand. She spots it rolled up against the nearest wall. “I’m glad you came, too.” As much as she’s embarrassed, she’s also grateful. And besides, it’s… nice—to have had Jisu jinx Peeves when she couldn’t quite do it herself, nice to have her offer a helping hand to ease some of the burden even though she didn’t need to. It was thoughtful and kind, and Ryujin loves that about Jisu.

Jisu is a good friend. A really good one. 

Ryujin steps around Jisu to retrieve her wand, and feels Jisu’s fingers slip out of hers with a slight twinge of regret.

“What’re you doing down here, by the way?” Jisu asks as Ryujin straightens up again.

“Looking for Dallie. Crazy cat keeps disappearing for ages and making me worry. Always shows up perfectly fine again at some point, but I can’t help it.”

“Cats do seem to be like that.” Jisu smiles, fond of the animals even though she doesn’t have one of her own. “Want some help? Or at least company?”

Ryujin perks up. “Really? You don’t have anything better to do?”

“Better than spending time with you?” Jisu clasps her hands together and shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”

Ryujin notices rather abruptly that her clothes are rumpled and uneven, and busies herself straightening them out. “Well… thanks,” she says down to the hem of her hoodie.

“No problem!” Jisu says. Ryujin can hear the warmth in her voice, and looks up to find a patient look on her face. “Just lead the way.”

“Right. Let’s go then, I guess.” 

Ryujin heads for the door and Jisu falls into step next to her. They walk into the hall and head right, and Jisu loops an arm through Ryujin’s, so their shoulders knock together. Ryujin feels warm all over—because of Jisu’s body heat radiating into her side, of course—and they wander through the winding halls of the castle together just like that, passing the time with idle chatter and comfortable silence in near equal measure. Ryujin forgets to be annoyed that she can’t just accio a living thing to her and be done with it. 

After an hour or two of searching for Dallie together, they decide they’ve given it their best shot and head to dinner together. When, after all that, Ryujin returns to her dorm to find none other than Dallie lazing on one of the common room couches without a care in the world, all she can do is laugh. Maybe searching for the rascal was entirely unnecessary, but the day hardly feels wasted. 

She goes to bed with a smile on her face, Dallie curled up at the end of her bed, and all feels right in the world.

— 5. 

Hogsmeade weekend finally comes in late October. 

For at least two weeks leading up to the first trip, it’s all anyone seems to be able to talk about. Ryujin and Yuna spend more time chatting in the common room at night about their plans than they do working, and it comes up briefly at almost every meal regardless of who Ryujin is with or what table she’s sitting at. Finally, finally, the day itself arrives, and all that talk is put into action. 

The sky is a brilliant, rich blue overhead, sapphire as far as the eye can see. It’s the kind of clear, deep color that only blankets the sky in the autumn, lightly spotted by small puffs of white clouds. Ryujin tilts her head back to admire the sight, tugging the sleeves of her sweater lower to cover her hands, because it may not be cold enough yet for winter gloves, but the air is closer to bitter chill than the sweltering heat of summer, and a little extra warmth doesn’t hurt. 

Every tree is bursting with color—reds and yellows and burnt oranges and golds. Ryujun feels at home under the leaves, and grins as the familiar colors crunch under her boots where a great many of them have also fallen onto the grass and cobblestones. 

“Where does everyone want to go first, again?” Yeji asks their small group as they arrive at the divergence point where they always split off into smaller groups because there’s never a consensus about what to do first.

“Honeydukes!” Chaeryeong cheers. She’s got a bottomless snack bag to fill, after all.

“Me too,” Yuna says, because she’s got a matching sweet tooth, and for all her teasing Ryuijn about her food-related moods, is just as much of a beast when it comes to putting away the feasts the kitchens prepare for them. 

“I wanna hit Zonko’s,” Ryujin chimes in. “For legal reasons I don’t think I can say why in front of a Prefect.”

Yeji laughs and waves a hand to affect nonchalance. “I’ve gotta get a new quill anyway before I forget, so you’re in the clear. Jisu—that just leaves you.”

“I’ll come with you. I’ve already written so many essays that I’m running low on ink.”

Ryujin feels a brief stab of disappointment; she’s the only one going off on her own. She brushes it off quickly, though. Perhaps mischief is better managed alone so there are fewer witnesses. 

“Should we meet back here or just go to the Three Broomsticks?” Yuna asks.

“Let’s meet back here,” Yeji decides. “It’s so nice out; we should enjoy it as much as we can before heading back. Plus the Butterbeer will be better after some fresh air.”

Chaeryeong nods. “Sounds good.”

They split off into two groups, Jisu and Yeij heading one way and Ryujin sticking with Chaeryeong and Yuna because Zonko’s and Honeydukes are practically neighbors. 

“I’ll probably come find you guys before we all meet up,” Ryujin tells them before heading off on her own. 

“Gotta keep the gremlin fed, right?” Yuna teases.

Ryujin rolls her eyes. “Right.”

“See you, then,” Chaeryeong says with a wave before she and Yuna disappear into the candy shop. 

Ryujin doesn’t exactly have a plan for what to get at the joke shop, so she doesn’t rush through looking around. The atmosphere of the shop is chaotic, but she tries to have fun with it, embracing the chaos to mean that she can move without anyone’s attention. There are a great many tricks and trinkets to choose from, but Ryujin is good at narrowing down the list based on budget and ease of use. She may not know exactly what she wants to be packing for, but there’s this persistent niggling at the back of her brain that says she needs to be prepared for something, and she’s decided to listen to it—if only to get it to shut up.

When she finally walks out of Zonko’s, it’s with a small stash of miscellaneous nuisances and a dungbomb she hopes she doesn’t have to use. Maybe if Slytherin plays dirty in their upcoming match she’ll make an exception, but otherwise she plans on keeping it stowed away for vengeance she’ll never need to take. 

It’s a quick walk to Honeydukes, and when Ryujin squeezes through a small crowd of students, she finds Chaeryeong and Yuna bickering over sugar quills.

“—totally get away with it!” 

Chaeryeong is shaking her head at whatever point Yuna has just argued. “I got one confiscated last year. The professors aren’t stupid.”

“Sup,” Ryujin says, butting in to snatch a quill or two for herself. 

Yuna welcomes her by pointing at the candy in her hands and saying, “See! Ryujin’s clearly on my side.”

“I always just shove ‘em in my mouth if they’re in danger of being nabbed. Can’t accio that away from me” Ryujin says.

“I’m sure that goes over swimmingly.” Chaeryeong’s voice is practically dripping sarcasm.

Ryujin shrugs. “Got a laugh once. Extra homework another time. Park almost gave me detention. Depends on the professor, but I think it’s worth it.” With that, Ryujin leaves them to their debate and makes her way through the candy shop, admiring the treats and staring wistfully at everything she knows she’ll get a splitting headache from eating. By the time she’s finally acquired a satisfying little pile of chocolates and sugar, Chaeryeong and Yuna have come to some kind of stalemate and put their differences aside to check out together. Ryujin follows their lead, and soon they’re all heading out to meet up with Jisu and Yeji. 

The other girls are already waiting for them when they arrive, and welcome them back with happy waves. 

“Success?” Yeji asks once they’re within earshot.

Ryujin nods while Yuna throws out a thumbs up. 

“Great!” The five of them form a small circle on the side of the street, and Yeji’s demeanor turns sheepish. “Hey, I know I said we should walk around before heading to the Three Broomsticks, but I think I overestimated my stamina. Or underestimated how much I was gonna start craving Butterbeer the second we got here. You guys okay with just heading over there now and exploring more after?”

“You know who you’re talking to?” Yuna asks, and that’s all the answer anyone needs. 

The Three Broomsticks is warm inside, filled with students and other patrons, but not so packed that there isn’t an open table for the group to claim as their own. The air is a bit hazy, loud with the din of countless voices and chatter, but it’s familiar and cozy. Ryujin and her friends order drinks and a plate of food to share, and fall into easy conversation. 

It’s much like a regular meal at the castle, but the change of setting is fun. No matter how big and exciting Hogwarts is, there’s still a unique charm to the village, and to getting out of school for a day of fun free of professors and ghosts and Peeves. It’s easy to put coursework out of sight and out of mind and just relax, so that’s exactly what they do. 

A few friends from school pass by, drawing greetings and attention, and conversation splinters to allow multiple discussions at the table at once. At some point, Chaeryeong excuses herself to head to the toilets, and not too long after, Jisu does as well. By the time Ryujin is done with her Butterbeer, the food has been cleared off the table as if by locusts, and she’s said hello to enough classmates that she can no longer keep track of them even with both hands counting. She takes stock of the table and realizes that while Chaeryeong has returned and is focused on siphoning the last drops of liquid out of her tankard, Jisu is still absent. 

“Hey,” she says lowly so as not to interrupt Yeji’s conversation with one of the Hufflepuff quidditch players that had come up to their table a minute earlier. “Have you seen Jisu?”

Chaeryeong glances up from her drink and pauses to think. “Pretty sure she went out to get some air?”

“Oh.” Ryujin glances at the door. “I’ll go make sure she’s okay.”

Chaeryeong snorts into her tankard something that sounds suspiciously like, “I bet you will,” and Ryujin chooses to believe she’s misheard. She’s not even sure what that would mean anyway.

“Back in a bit,” she announces to no one in particular, pushing herself to her feet and heading away from the table. She weaves her way over to the door and pulls it open to a facefull of cool wind. Stepping outside and pulling the door shut behind her to preserve the cosy atmosphere within the Three Broomsticks, Ryujin glances around. It’s a bit darker outside than it had been before they all piled into the inn, and there don’t seem to be quite as many people out and about. 

Though there are a good few familiar faces to be seen from the awning of the Three Broomsticks, none of them are Jisu, so Ryujin steps forward and expands her search radius. Jisu probably hasn’t gone far or she would have said something to the group, so she must be somewhere close. For a moment, Ryujin wonders if there’s really a need to go looking for Jisu when she’ll likely be back on her own in a few minutes anyway, but Ryujin had said she was just going to make sure Jisu was all right, hadn’t she? There’s no harm in simply ensuring that Jisu is okay before leaving her to her own devices if she’d come out for some space, some peace and quiet.

Ryujin nods to herself, wandering away from the entrance and wondering which direction she would have walked if she were Jisu. The sun is hanging off to the west, not setting yet, but edging closer to it. Ryujin decides that if she were Jisu, she’d head towards the sunnier side of the street. 

She’s barely put any real distance between herself and the inn when a noise catches her attention off to the right. Ryujin pokes her head down the small side alley to investigate, and promptly freezes. 

Ryujin would like to be able to say that she at least attempts to think through what she does next, but it would be a lie. In truth, she sees Jisu with her back to the wall of the inn, Jaemin practically towering over her with one hand on the wall boxing her in, and Ryujin acts without pausing to think at all. Before she really knows what she’s doing, her wand is in her hand and the jelly-legs jinx is on the tip of her tongue. She’s firing off the spell fast enough that her brain doesn’t have time to catch up until it’s too late.

In the alley, the orange light of the jinx hits Jaemin dead-on without warning, and he collapses in a heap with a strangled sound of confusion. Jisu yelps in surprise as he falls in front of her, crouching quickly to offer him a hand. “Oh my god, are you okay?” she frets while Jaemin tries to right himself with little success.

It hits Ryujin all at once that she’s done something incredibly stupid. 

“What happened?” Jisu is asking as she lifts her head up and looks from side to side, before her eyes land on Ryujin standing there like the obvious culprit, and they go wide, her mouth dropping open. “What…?”

Ryujin realizes she has just set off a dungbomb all over her own life. She stashes her wand again and rushes over to the others as if she can amend this somehow without any further repercussions. A string of quiet curses tumble out of her as she reaches the pair, but when Jisu fixes her with an unreadable look and asks, “Did you just hex Jaemin?” her throat closes and she falls silent. 

Against her will, Ryujin’s eyes dart to Jaemin, who has propped himself up on his elbows because it’s all he can manage, and she finds him staring up at her with a mix of confusion and offence. Ryujin is quick to look away. “I thought he was harassing you,” she says dumbly.

To her surprise—and apparently Jisu’s as well—Jaemin laughs. “Oh, did it really look like that?” He sounds genuinely curious.

“Um.” Ryujin hesitates, because she still can’t quite get a read on Jisu’s face, and it leaves her feeling off-kilter, uncertain. “You had her backed up against a wall, so, yeah.” That is exactly what it had looked like, wasn’t it? But based on Jisu’s reaction to Jaemin crumpling like a sack of stones cut loose—immediate concern and care—that likely wasn’t the case. What, then—  

“Funny,” Jaemin says, with far too much nonchalance for someone with jinxed jelly-legs. “I thought it looked like I was about to kiss her.”

It’s like the world grinds to a halt. Ryujin can’t even see Jaemin on the ground in front of her because all of a sudden she’s back on the quidditch pitch listening to Jisu cheer for Jaemin. She’s back in the Great Hall, watching them talk animatedly over lunch.

Ryujin’s stomach twists into a knot so tight she isn’t certain it’ll even unwind. Her wand hand twitches and she clenches it into a fist. Her mouth opens and nothing comes out. Eyes darting back and forth between Jaemin and Jisu’s faces, unable to focus on either of them, Ryujin feels—for the first time in Jisu’s presence—the overwhelming urge to run away. “Is that—I mean—were you—” she stammers, rooted to the spot despite the desire to run. 

“He was not about to kiss me,” Jisu says firmly. “But he wasn’t harassing me, either.”

Relief floods through Ryujin, but confusion chases after, hot on its heels. She shifts her weight from foot to foot. “Then what—”

Jisu looks sheepish, almost embarrassed. "Just talking." 

Ryujin is pretty sure that people don't just talk like that, but Jisu has never lied to her before, and she doesn't seem to be now, either.

"I'll let you in on a little secret," Jaemin says, unprompted. "If it'll help clear things up." 

Jisu's eyes widen almost imperceptibly and Ryujin realizes she's staring at her. She tears her eyes away and forces herself to look at Jaemin instead. He'd make a funny sight, sprawled on the ground like this, if Ryujin's mind wasn't wholly preoccupied with other, more important things. 

"I’m a taken man—I've got a boyfriend," Jaemin says simply. Ryujin lets out a breath and Jisu's shoulders relax where she sits. "Jisu is cute as a button, but I'm afraid she's just not my type," Jaemin continues. 

In all honesty, Ryujin can't fathom it.

"Actually, if you're out here looking for Jisu, I bet he'll show up to scold me any minute now." For someone who's just been jinxed over a misunderstanding, he seems remarkably calm and amused now. "Say, d'you think I could get him to carry me somewhere nicer? Probably, right? I still can't feel my legs. How long does this thing last, anyway?" 

Ryujin stares at him. This is the longest conversation they have ever had, and every minute of it has confused her more than the last. She can't tell if he's the most chill guy in the world or just utterly mad. "Um. Not very long, I think. It’s just a nuisance jinx." She stares at him a little more, as if he'll spontaneously sprout another head or something equally strange. Jaemin just looks back at her like this is simply another Saturday for him. She wonders what the hell he gets up to when he's not in class or practicing at the quidditch pitch. She's not sure she wants to know.

"Sorry," she remembers to say, very sudden and very belated. "For jinxing you, I mean." 

Jaemin shrugs. "Well, I get it now. You were protecting Jisu, right? Can't exactly hold that against you; it was just a mistake." There's something about the way he says it… something about the glint in his eyes that makes Ryujin feel like she's missing something important. Something vital. Jaemin opens his mouth as if to say something more, maybe elaborate, but before he can, the sound of footsteps on cobblestone catches his attention. 

"There you are. What the…” 

Ryujin turns to find Lee Jeno standing at the end of the alley staring at the lot of them with a mix of apprehension and exasperation. Ryujin recognizes him as the other Hufflepuff beater, but aside from that, she knows nothing about him. 

Jaemin is a different story. “Jeno! Hey,” he grins up at him from the ground seemingly without a care in the world. “It seems that my legs have spontaneously turned to jelly. Would you be so kind as to help me out of here?” 

Jeno stares at Jaemin for a long, long moment. It looks like he’s contemplating every single life choice that has led him to this moment, before he finally lets out a world weary sigh and marches over to where Jaemin is lying on the ground. He scoops Jaemin up into his arms like a sack of bricks, but a very important one. “You’re so lucky I like you,” he says with a shake of his head.

Jaemin just grins brilliantly, slinging an arm around Jeno’s shoulders. Jeno turns like he’s ready to leave, and Ryujin starts. “Wait—Jaemin—are you… gonna report this?" 

Jaemin barely bats an eye. "Report what?" he asks. For a second, he looks Slytherin through and through, sneaky and uncaring of the rules by which students are bound. But when his grin returns, Ryujin figures there's nothing more Hufflepuff than him letting her get away with jinxing him out of just the kindness and understanding of his heart.

Ryujin breathes easier as relief pours over her, and for the first time, she offers Jaemin a tentative smile of her own. "Thanks," she says in a soft voice. "And sorry, again."

"No harm no foul," Jaemin says with a wave as Jeno carries on towards the mouth of the alley. "Catch 'ya later!" 

As they head out of sight, Ryujin hears Jeno ask, "Do I even want to know?" before they vanish entirely. 

Ryujin stands frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do next, unsure of whether she’s processed any of what’s just happened, until Jisu pushes herself to her feet and draws Ryujin’s attention back to her as easy as breathing. With no one else around anymore, no other distractions, Ryujin becomes distinctly aware of the fact that something feels different between her and Jisu. Like something in the air has shifted, and Ryujin isn’t sure what it is or what to do with the change. She doesn’t like the confusion that comes with it. Being with Jisu is always easy, simple. Always nice. The last thing she wants is to lose that.

Scrambling for something to say to fix things, Ryujin tries, “Sorry for interrupting.”

At the same time, Jisu blurts. “It really wasn’t what it looked like.” She goes red as their voices overlap and then silence falls over them again. “Um.” Jisu glances away. “Let’s head back. They’re probably waiting for us.” 

Jisu takes a step towards the entrance of the alley, and Ryujin follows her. She always does. She always wants to. Now is no exception. When Jisu is sure she’s coming, she carries on. Ryujin’s head spins, feels stuffed with cotton and close to bursting. They return to their table, to their friends, and eventually, to the castle.

When Ryujin’s head hits her pillow that night, it’s still a mess. She wonders how long it will take for things to make sense again.

— +1.

Of all times, it comes to Ryujin while she’s flying. 

It’s like this: she’s completely and utterly focused, and for the first time in ages, there’s only one thing on her mind. It’s something she understands as easily as breathing. She’s hovering in front of the Gryffindor goal posts as she watches her team battle against the Slytherins for possession of the quaffle, and everything empties out of her head. It’s a blank slate, a reboot, if you will. 

The Slytherin captain, Lee Donghyuck, snakes through Yuna and Chaeyeon’s formation and snatches the ball out of the air. In the blink of an eye, he’s speeding towards Ryujin, intent on scoring. Ryujin has no intention of letting that happen, though, and neither do her teammates. 

Beomgyu sends a bludger hurtling after Donghyuck with terrifying precision, knocking him off course. Yuna and Chaeyeon race after him to corral him so he doesn’t have free range of the pitch before trying to score. They narrow his path enough that even when he dodges and tries a sneaky little fakeout turn to try and trick Ryujin, she’s still able to figure out which hoop he’s aiming for. 

Ryujin darts forward on her broom right as the quaffle leaves Donghyuck’s hand, and she’s on it in the nick of time, catching it with her whole body and protecting the goal post with a sharp grin of satisfaction. The impact rattles her—Donghyuck has quite the arm—and it’s like it knocks something loose inside of her. As she hurls the quaffle back to Yuna, that something rattles around within the cage of her ribs, cracking open. 

In the distance, she hears the crowd on Gryffindor’s side roar with excitement at the successful block. Yuna flies through the air like the wind, ready for a counter-attack, and Ryujin wonders if her friends are cheering for the both of them. Wonders if Jisu is. If Jisu is cheering for her. 

It hits her with the same force as the quaffle that she wants that—Jisu’s wholehearted cheers—almost as much as she wants to win this match and watch Donghyuck struggle to be civil with Chaeyeon when they shake hands after the fact. 

Ryujin wants Jisu cheering her heart out for her, and not in the way she wants that from Chaeryeong or Yeji or anyone else she knows. It’s startling, packs a real punch, leaves Ryujin winded. She wants to be special to Jisu, wants it to be okay that Jisu is special to her—because she is, Ryujin realizes. She has been for a while, for so long that Ryujin can’t track it back to a specific point.

It’s startling, but… it makes sense. So much sense, in fact, that Ryujin can’t believe she never put two and two together before. All those times something was just a little bit off, all the times she had an inkling that something was going right over her head—this is the missing puzzle piece, the one little thing that makes everything else click into place. 

The epiphany comes and goes in little more than the blink of an eye, just long enough for Yuna to pass the quaffle to Chaeyeon and for her to then score. It’s a move the two unabashedly repurposed for themselves after watching the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw match that had come before, and even from a distance, Ryujin can tell that Chenle, the Slytherin keeper, is none too happy about failing to stop a trick shot that’s already been done before. 

The amplified voice of the commentator must pick up on this, because Ryujin hears them voice her own thoughts as the quaffle is returned to play and the Slytherins are on it with a vengeance. Great, Ryujin thinks, nothing better than a bunch of pissy snakes with something to prove. She’s on her guard for their next attempt to score, but they bring their everything to the play, and the quaffle gets past her despite her best efforts.

Well, she decides, squaring her jaw in determination, a pissy lion can make just as much trouble. She’s got all her usual reasons for wanting to win—and that’s already enough—and now she’s got another, too. More than enough. She’s going to crush this. She’s going to defend the Gryffindor goal posts long enough for Yerim to find and catch the snitch. She and her team are going to have an absolute victory today, and with luck, that will give her more than the necessary courage to act this determined off the pitch as well. 

Like her convictions have given her a boost, Ryujin does exactly as she swears. She catches and knocks away the quaffle an overwhelming majority of the times a Slytherin chaser tries to get it past her, and she buys her team time to rack up more and more points of their own. 

Gryffindor leads, but it’s still a closer match than she would like—Chenle is no shabby keeper, after all—and when Yerim finally shoots off after the snitch a second before Han Jisung, Ryujin’s breath catches. Yerim has the lead, but Jisung is faster. If it comes down to a flat out race, everything might be over for Gryffindor. They need Yerim to get there first, to close her hand around the winning 150 points before Jisung can. Ryujin knows this. Yerim knows this. Most importantly, Beomgyu knows this, and he’s got a bludger at the ready with the Slytherin seeker’s name on it.

From her vantage point at the goal post, Ryujin watches Beomgyu’s bat connect with the bludger and send it hurtling after Jisung, and right at the eleventh hour as it looks like he’s going to pull ahead and get to the snitch before Yerim, the ball thwacks the back of his broom and sends him spinning off course. A second later, Yerim dives at the snitch and manages to snatch it up before it can flit away again. She holds it high, and the quidditch pitch erupts. 

Ryujin shoots off towards Yerim along with the rest of her teammates, and they all practically collide in a dogpile around their seeker, hollering and celebrating and tossing her into the air the second all their feet touch the ground. Ryujin thumps Beomgyu on the back in thanks for his save, and Chaeyeon does as well. She’s beaming at her first win as captain, and Ryujin thinks that even over the din of the entire Gryffindor house screaming victory at the top of their lungs, she can hear Chaeryeong cheering for her sister. With a bit of wishful thinking, she imagines hearing Jisu’s voice rising over the rest as well. 

The team celebrates until they reach the threshold of gloating, and calm down enough to thank the Slytherin team for the match. Just as Ryujin had predicted, Slytherin’s captain has a tight smile on his face as he shakes Chaeyeon’s hand. 

“Celebrate while you can,” Donghyuck says with the confidence of someone who has won the quidditch cup twice already in his time on the team, and knows that he and his players have the skill to get to the finals this year as well, despite this first loss.

Chaeyeon grins. “You know we will.”

The teams bow to each other, and Ryujin gets a good look at her opponents faces. As miffed as they are about losing, most of them already have this look on their faces like they’re already going over every weak point from the match and figuring out how to fix them for the next game. They look every bit as ambitious and calculating and determined as Ryujin expects them to be, and she looks forward to watching the rest of their games to see how they improve throughout the season. 

More than that, though, Ryujin is looking forward to something else. Something a bit more personal. After her team regroups in the changing room to go over the match while they strip out of their dirty gear and get comfortable again, after they make plans to celebrate that night and are released to greet their friends and spectators, Ryujin’s gut simmers with anticipation. 

She and Yuna are ambushed by Yeji and Jisu as soon as they’re out onto the grass, and Chaeryeong is nearby chatting excitedly with Chaeyeon. The rest of the team is swarmed by their own friends, and after a thorough spiel from Yeji about how well they played, Chaeryeong jogs over to join them. 

“I’m so excited to play you guys,” she says breathlessly. 

Yeji nods in fervent agreement. “We’ll see who does the bait and switch better, then.”

Yuna grins from ear to ear. “You’re on!” 

Jisu is surprisingly quiet, watching them prattle on about the sport in fond amusement. Ryujin catches her eye and Jisu’s face is flushed pink enough to match Ryujin’s own when she says, “You were amazing out there!”

“Thanks!” Ryujin beams, giddy from the high of victory and the nerves from what she’s about to do. She takes a deep breath and gathers her courage, because she’s been waiting long enough in her own ignorance—denial—what have you. Regardless of how much time it has taken her to open her eyes and see, this has been sitting right in front of her for long enough that it’d be silly to let it go on unsaid any longer. “Hey… do you think we could go somewhere a bit quieter for a minute?”

Jisu’s back straightens in surprise, and she casts a glance to the other three, still chatting away. “Sure,” she says after a moment. 

Ryujin offers her a hand, and Jisu’s face is sunset pink as she accepts it and lets Ryujin lead her through the sea of students and out to an emptier spot away from the crowd. They come to a stop under the nearest goal posts, and Ryujin lets Jisu’s hand go, but doesn’t move far from her side.

“What’s…” Jisu’s cheek indents like she’s biting the inside. “What’s up?” She lifts the hand Ryujin had just been holding and twists a lock of hair around her finger.

Ryujin takes another deep breath. “I wanted to apologize for hexing Jaemin, back in Hogsmeade. Properly, that is. I know I said sorry to him, but I never said it to you. So—sorry for all that.”

Jisu’s cheeks puff up and she goes beet red. “You don’t have to—I mean we weren’t—” she lets out a heavy breath and curls her hair tighter around her finger. She’s looking at the ground as she blurts out, “He was just trying to show me how to flirt. I… I asked him to help me with it!”

Ryujin’s mouth falls open. That was… not what she expected. She’s not sure what she expected, actually. She’d believed Jisu when she said there was nothing funny happening between them, but she hadn’t been able to figure out what was. This revelation, however, sparks something in her mind. “You… needed help flirting?”

Jisu huffs and meets Ryujin’s eyes again. “Well the girl I like hasn’t really gotten the message from anything else I’ve done, so I was getting desperate. I’m not… I’m not brave enough to just spit it out without some clue of whether she feels the same, so I thought this was my best bet.” She lets out a light laugh. “Didn’t expect Jaemin to also be so bad at flirting, though. But at least he’s really nice—I guess that’s the secret behind everyone liking him, not that he’s suave as hell or anything.”

“You’re really nice,” Ryujin says, more as an instinctive response than anything else. “Everyone likes you.”

Jisu levels Ryujin with a look. “It’s different.” She shakes her head. “I just want her—to like me the same way I like her. Not just as a friend.” They’re silent for a moment, and Jisu shifts her weight. “Was that all you wanted to say?”

“Oh. No.” Ryujin swings her arms at her sides. This is it. Either she finally figured out how to read the signs right in front of her, or she’s about to embarrass herself worse than she had when Peeves got the jump on her, or when she jinxed Jaemin. She really hopes it’s the former, but even if it’s not… the potential reward is worth the risk of being wrong. 

“When I jelly-legsed Jaemin… I wasn’t actually sure he was harassing you. I think I knew there was a chance it was exactly what he said he thought it looked like: that he was about to kiss you.” Ryujin takes a breath. “I didn’t know for sure what it was, but it didn’t matter. I knew I couldn’t take the chance, and… also… I wanted him to get away from you no matter what. I was—I told myself I was just looking out for you, but—I know a part of me was jealous.” 

Jisu blinks up at her, and the look in her widening eyes urges Ryujin on. 

“All the time we’ve spent together, I always knew I liked being around you. I never really thought beyond that because that was enough—just being with you. But… but after seeing you and Jaemin I finally had to think about it and.” Deep breath. “And I realized I didn’t want him to kiss you because I want to kiss you. If I’m that thick-headed girl you were talking about—if you want me to like you differently, not just like a friend—I do. I have, it just took a while for it to click for me.”

Jisu looks dazed and disbelieving as she stares at Ryujin. “I can’t believe I owe Jaemin ten Sickles.”

“Um.” Ryujin’s brows draw in confusion. “That’s not any of the things I was expecting you to say.”

“Oh!” Jisu appears to come to her senses all at once. “Sorry. Jaemin bet me that that jinx was proof you liked me back. Went on and on about how you were either defending my honor or just jealous and either way it was a done deal. I seriously think he might know occlumency. Wait, that’s not important.” She bounces up onto her toes and leans into Ryujin’s space, both hands on Ryujin’s arms. “Yes! I like you, Ryujin. You’re the only thick-headed girl for me.”

Ryujin’s smile stretches so wide it must go from ear to ear. All things considered, this may have been an atrocious confession—on both their parts—but Ryujin can’t help thinking it doesn’t matter when they’ve shown each other how much they care through countless moments before this. When they’ll continue to show each other how much they care through countless moments to come. “Well that sure is a relief,” she laughs lightly.

Jisu giggles a bit, then a bit more when Ryujin offers her arm for Jisu to loop one of her own through. Just before they head back to their friends in the waning crowd so they can all celebrate the win together before dinner and the official Gryffindor party afterwards, Jisu leans in and presses a quick kiss to Ryujin’s cheek. Said cheek as good as bursts into flames at the contact, but Ryujin is reassured by the way Jisu’s whole face flushes as well.

They return to their friends arm in arm, blushing furiously, and Yeji, Chaeryeong, and Yuna welcome them back with enthusiasm but not a drop of surprise. 

Chaeryeong levels them both with a grin that’s just barely shy of a smirk and says, “We’ve been waiting.”

All in all, it’s a perfect night.