Chapter Text
When Park Seonghwa walked down Platform 9 3/4 that September morning, he had a bit of a spring in his step.
He was honored to be starting his fifth year at Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and to have been elected a Prefect. He had worried the privilege would be granted to someone else; that his shenanigans and petty, ugly fights had become his downfall. But once he would put on the school robes, there on his chest, pinned atop the grey sweatshirt, would be the shiny Prefect badge, no one to take it away from him. He couldn’t wait to walk the castle’s corridors, his chest puffed out proudly, and take another step towards his perfectly mapped out future.
The badge felt heavy in his jeans pocket now, though, where he had stored it—its significance and responsibility wasn’t one to take lightly, and Seonghwa didn’t intend to.
He pushed his cart through the masses of fellow wizards and Muggles that filled out the platform. The Hogwarts Express whistled loudly, smoke arising and making its obsidian body appear shadowy and blurred, almost as if it wasn’t really there and just a figment of Seonghwa’s imagination. The sound jolted him out of his trance and he hurried up, dodging children and parents waving their goodbyes, so he could reach the train and board before it was too late.
Usually, his timing was impeccable, but the traffic had been terrible that morning.
The ground beneath his feet rattled alive the moment he pulled his luggage inside, nearly making him crash into the compartment behind him. He checked to make sure he had carried both his luggage and duffle bag with him, and let out a relieved sigh when he found all his belongings with him.
Seonghwa watched Platform 9 3/4 disappear from in front of him, the people that were huddled together outside became a blurred blob the more speed the Hogwarts Express caught. He tried to ignore his own disappointment and sadness at the fact that his parents hadn’t come to see him off, they still struggled to fully wrap their heads around their wizard son, even after all these years. Seonghwa had learned to deal with the rejection, but it never had quite left, hidden in some distant corner of his mind.
With a shake of his head and an apologetic smile at the people inside the compartment he had nearly crashed into, Seonghwa grabbed his belongings and started walking towards one of the connection pieces in between one wagon and another. He texted his friends to ask them what compartment they were seated in. Seconds later a string of messages arrived and he turned around to walk in the opposite direction, towards one of the last wagons.
He glanced through the compartment’s window to make sure it was the right one: it revealed three boys his age.
One of them had a narrow and delicate frame, his fingers carefully wrapped around a book as his gaze was concentrated on the words, completely immersed in the tale he held. He had dyed, dirty blonde hair that was curled and fell messily around his head. His name was Kang Yeosang, the first friend Seonghwa had ever made at Hogwarts. With him sat their mutual Gryffindor friend, Jeong Wooyoung; the three of them were quite known for their shenanigans and pranks, rumors trailing after them like they were the light and trouble was a moth.
Wooyoung had dark brown hair, parted in the middle, his reading glasses perched on his head and a book lying upside down next to his legs. He wore a thick knitted jacket that bulged strangely, as if he was hiding something. Wooyoung was talking to Choi Yeonjun, a classmate of theirs.
Seonghwa opened the compartment door, all three heads whipped in his direction with startlement. Yeosang relaxed the moment he recognized who it was, and Wooyoung stopped trying to (unsuccessfully) hide his Siamese cat—Star—underneath his jacket. They weren’t supposed to carry their pets with them outside of the pet compartment, but Wooyoung was incredibly attached to his furry, four legged companion.
Yeonjun blinked owlishly at Seonghwa, then he grinned. “There he is, our new Captain!”
Seonghwa grinned, a bit abashed. When he had received Hogwarts’s letter granting him the honor of becoming a Prefect, he hadn’t expected the attached document revealing he had been elected Captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team as well. He bowed his head slightly as he entered the compartment. Yeosang scooted aside to let Seonghwa sit down, cradling his book as he moved so he didn’t lose the page he was on. He gave Seonghwa a warm and welcoming smile.
“I’m glad I never tried out for Quidditch,” Wooyoung commented offhandedly. “I’d feel so bad right now, having to compete against my friends and knowing that I would absolutely crush them like little cockroaches,” he added with a dramatic and heavy sigh, shaking his head in lament.
“You’re a lousy flyer,” Yeonjun told him off with a snort, “and you keep getting scared whenever we try to practice with you and a Bludger comes your way!”
“Shh.” Wooyoung leaned forward to press a finger against Yeonjun’s lips, shaking his head in a dismissive way. “Stop trying to defend yourself. I get it.”
Yeonjun shot Yeosang and Seonghwa a pleading look, silently asking them for help, but neither bothered. He rolled his eyes, slapping away Wooyoung’s hand, who gasped dramatically. Yeosang promptly returned to his lecture, ignoring his friends’s shenanigans, but he had a gentle smile playing on his lips, clearly comfortable in their presence and enjoying their banter.
“It was nice seeing you guys, but I’ll be on my way. I heard Hwanwoong’s dad developed a new wizarding game,” Yeonjun excused himself. “I’ll see you all at the Welcoming Feast!” With that he left their compartment
Seonghwa himself felt terribly tired after the morning’s excitement and stress of getting to the platform on time. “I’m going to shut my eyes,” he said, yawning loudly, and moved to secure his luggage and duffel bag. “Please don’t burn down the train.” He gave Wooyoung a meaningful glance, the Gryffindor just raised his hands in mock defeat.
Seonghwa plugged in his earphones and searched for his traveling playlist, then he leaned back against the red cushions of the Hogwarts Express and pressed play, relaxing completely. He watched the scenery outside change and shift until his eyelids felt too heavy, letting them fall close.
A dreamless sleep came and went like the tides of the sea.
“Shh, you’ll wake him up, you ass,” a voice mumbled scoldingly. Going by the slight lisp, it had to be Wooyoung—plus, the guilt yet obvious thrill for havoc was another dead giveaway. “I can’t believe he still thinks you’re the sweet little angel out of the two of us,” he continued, disappointment noticeable. Then he giggled way too loudly, a bit contradictory to his previous statement. “Shit, he’s waking up!”
Wooyoung’s panicked voice came from Seonghwa’s immediate personal bubble so he cracked open one eye, staring up at Yeosang’s face, way too close and with guilt written all over his smooth features. Wooyoung was now on the opposite bench, a way too pleased grin crossing his face.
“What—” Seonghwa began, stirring awake. His earphones must have fallen out at some point as they lay scattered on his chest, and he was clutching his phone tightly. He sat up straight, pushing Yeosang away softly. He glared at Wooyoung, waiting for him to spill, but of course the Gryffindor kept his mouth shut, portraying a perfect image of innocence.
So he glanced back at Yeosang, who crumbled not even a second later. “I’m sorry!” he cried, staring at Seonghwa’s face, somewhere above his eyes.
“What did you guys do?” Seonghwa asked, unlocking his phone to open the front view camera so he could take a look at himself. “You-You dyed my eyebrows?” he asked, mildly affronted, and stared at Wooyoung, knowing it must’ve been his plan.
“In my defence,” Wooyoung started, pushing Star off of his lap. She hissed at him and immediately jumped up to sit on Yeosang’s lap. “This wasn’t really my idea. I said that I really wanted to try out this magical hair dye that supposedly has immediate results...” he clarified, moving his hand in the direction of Seonghwa’s now sunflower yellow eyebrows. “Apparently it dyes your hair in the color of your soul. I just didn’t know it would actually work or that the color of your soul is apparently the color of—”
“Hufflepuff colored eyebrows?” A voice supplied from the compartment’s door. The words were drawled out with arrogance and amusement. “I must say, Park, I’m surprised it took you this long to realize which one the superior house is. Are you not one of the, oh, so smart Ravenclaws ?”
Seonghwa didn’t need to turn around to know who it was, he just knew by the annoying lilt of the voice. It was one he would hardly ever forget, simply because it had been the source of taunting and numerous spells thrown at him throughout his previous four years at Hogwarts. Of course, Seonghwa always made sure the owner of that vexing voice received the same amount of insults and spells, if not double, thrown back.
Seonghwa smiled, sickly sweet, pushing a loose strand of black hair away from his face, and then turned around so he could look at the intruder.
Kim Hongjoong leaned coolly against the side of the compartment’s frame, dressed in his Muggle clothes—a pair of dark blue jeans, cuffed, with a white shirt tucked into them, and a gray plaid button up, which was way too big on him, falling off his shoulders like a coat. Closing around his feet were his signature black combat boots. Seonghwa did notice with surprise that his once dark brown hair was dyed a shrill red, and his mullet was gone. It made the Hufflepuff look a lot more intimidating and confident.
Flanking his right side was Song Mingi, his best friend and fellow Hufflepuff, tall in contrast to Hongjoong, with his black hair pushed away from his face; a mildly unbothered expression as he eyed the Ravenclaws and Gryffindor.
Hongjoong smirked, noticing Seonghwa’s surprise and silent stare. “What?” he asked, shifting his weight. “Don’t tell me you’re actually—”
“I am not,” Seonghwa interrupted him decidedly, not even wanting to hear whatever horrible and deluded theory he had come up with. “I just didn’t know we had sentient Ketchup bags visiting Hogwarts this year.”
Yeosang let out a loud laugh, which was unusual as he mostly kept quiet and was rather reserved. He was giggling now, though, and reached out his hand to high five Seonghwa. Wooyoung snorted, a minuscule frown appearing, but it vanished quickly and he eyed the intruders with despair. Hongjoong frowned, standing up straight, and shot Seonghwa an annoyed glance. Mingi’s eyes flickered over to a still laughing Yeosang, quieter now, and then returned to watch Hongjoong as he spoke.
“I don’t know what nonsense you’re blabbering about,” Hongjoong hissed, clearly flustered that they made a joke about him—one he didn’t necessarily understand. “But just know that I’m going to crush you this year, Park. You didn’t win the Quidditch cup last year and you certainly won’t this one!”
Mingi eyed Seonghwa, expectantly awaiting his answer; to their surprise it was Yeosang that spoke up. “You might have won the cup last year, but don’t forget you lost against us,” he reminded the Hufflepuffs, his voice holding a slight tremble and he had his eyes glued to the book he had been reading.
Seonghwa noticed that his cheeks were growing red so he moved his hand to pat Yeosang’s knee in an appreciative and comforting way.
Hongjoong scoffed.
“I came by to tell you that I’m a Prefect this year, so whatever pranks and shenanigans you might think about doing, I’ll make sure you regret them!” Hongjoong threatened them, puffing out his chest.
“Tough luck, genius,” Wooyoung said, bored. “Our boy Seonghwa is a Prefect himself. Try again once you’re Head Boy.”
Hongjoong opened his mouth to throw some remark at them, but he was brusquely pushed aside by a boy about his height, except with a much broader built. He let out an offended yelp, rubbing his arm as he glared at the newcomer. Seonghwa grinned, pleased. With a roll of his eyes, Hongjoong stomped away angrily, muttering to himself. Mingi followed suit, but he did shoot them all a vicious glare.
“Good riddance!” Wooyoung yelled after them. “Perfect timing, Jongho.”
“Thanks, I try.” Jongho grinned, taking the seat next to Wooyoung, and reached out to take Star out of Yeosang’s lap so he could shower her with love and kisses. “What the fuck happened to your eyebrows?” he asked then, addressing Seonghwa.
Choi Jongho was a year younger than them, Beater of the Slytherin Quidditch Team. His silky, black hair was shorter than it had been the previous year, and instead of wearing it like the typical coconut haircut many boys their age fancied, he had it parted in the middle. His once bare ears were adorned with piercings—much like Hongjoong’s had been—and his eyes were rimmed with black eyeliner. Unsurprisingly, he was dressed in all black.
“Wooyoung happened,” Yeosang answered. “Do you even have to ask?” The aforementioned boy scoffed but didn’t tell him off.
Seonghwa smiled, ignoring the eyebrow debacle for now. “I see the emo playlists I sent you this summer have influenced you.”
Jongho smiled, looking down at his outfit. “What can I say, those boys in tight black clothing and eyeliner speak some truth.”
“Yeah, we all go through that realization at some point in life,” Yeosang agreed, pointedly pulling out a loose thread of his ripped, black jeans.
“Hey, so, I know we were just clowning Hongjoong; but what did it mean?” Wooyoung asked. “That word... Ketchum?”
“Ketchup,” Seonghwa corrected him.
Yeosang started laughing again, but took pity upon Wooyoung, who was pouting, and began explaining Muggle culture to him, with some interjections from Jongho.
Seonghwa looked out of the window, the late afternoon darkness falling around them, and he spotted Hogwarts, taking form as various lights dotting the shadow that rose in the distance, all together making up the castle.
He let out a content sigh, he was home once again.
~*~
The Hogsmeade Station always smelled of rain around this time of the year, and of course the saltiness from the Black Lake nearby.
That particular September 1st a harsh wind was blowing over the surface of the lake, and Seonghwa was glad he was not one of the first years that would have to ride on the small boats to reach Hogwarts. Away from the station, where the path to the castle began, stood the carriages with the invisible thestrals, undoubtedly impactful and scary in the night’s shadows. He often wondered what it would be like to see something that most people simply couldn’t.
Seonghwa shook his head, straightened his robes, his Prefect badge shining on his chest—or he hoped it was shining, after all he had polished it several times—and marched over to the carriages to stand beside his fellow fifth year Ravenclaw Prefect, Jang Yeeun.
“Hello,” she greeted him, appreciatively eyeing his badge. “I knew you had the material of a Prefect. Despite your, ah, feud with the Hufflepuffs,” she said delicately, but did shoot him a mischievous grin.
“Thank you.” He nodded, looking over the mass of students moving around them and getting on the carriages. The first years were called to the boats by Hogwarts’s Groundskeeper, Professor Kim Namjoon. In the distance Seonghwa spotted Yeosang and Wooyoung waiting for him, chatting animatedly with fellow students. “I’m glad to see that your dream of becoming a Prefect came true,” he told Yeeun sincerely.
Both of them were hardworking and ambitious Ravenclaws, fixated on the Head Boy and Head Girl position. Wooyoung often joked that Seonghwa could’ve easily been sorted into Slytherin with his great aspirations.
Yeeun smiled, looking away shyly. “I see your eyebrow accident got fixed,” she mentioned, her index finger pointing in the direction of his eyebrow.
He scrunched up his nose, letting out an embarrassed laugh. “How did you know about that?”
Yeeun jerked her head at a carriage a short distance from them. “Your dearest friend over there,” she pointed a Hongjoong, who was staring at them with his eyebrows furrowed in disapproval, “proclaimed the mishap throughout the entire train, saying you were switching colors.”
Seonghwa snorted. “Hah! He wishes!”
Hongjoong was still staring at them, holding his chin high, as though he was something better than them. Seonghwa rolled his eyes and looked away. He had chosen to fulfill his Prefect duty, he wasn’t going to let Hongjoong disturb that. It wasn’t Seonghwa’s problem if Hongjoong was neglecting his own duties as Prefect, hanging out with his friends instead and, most likely, talking smack about Seonghwa.
“How was your summer?” he asked Yeeun then and listened as she launched into a long story about her scorching days spent together with dragons and her girlfriend.
Once the crowd had thinned out, thankfully no major incidents going down—Seonghwa had only scolded some second year Gryffindor for not wearing his robes adequately—he bid his goodbye to Yeeun and walked to one of the last carriages, where his friends were reunited, a second year boy standing with them. Kang Taehyun, Yeosang’s younger brother and a fellow Ravenclaw.
“All right, now that our Prefect is here, let’s go,” Wooyoung hissed, ushering the Ravenclaws inside the carriage urgently. It was no secret that Wooyoung was able to see thestrals, and it was no secret either that he despised these creatures, terrified and disgusted on equal parts.
In his second year, when they had made them travel with the thestrals-drawn carriages for the first time, Wooyoung’s scream had echoed through the entire Hogsmeade Station—perhaps even had haunted the streets of the nearby small town. He had been rushed to the Hospital Wing immediately, as he had been shaking and crying violently. Madame Eunji had watched him until she’d deemed him stable enough to join the Start-of-Term Feast.
“What’s wrong?” Taehyun asked, nervously glancing between the now moving carriage and Wooyoung’s unusual quiet and sombre demeanor.
“What do you think makes these carriages move, Tae?” Yeosang asked his younger brother, his voice quiet and patient.
“Magic?”
Yeosang smiled affectionately. “Not quite. You’ll learn about them more if you do take Care of Magical Creatures next year, but these carriages are pulled by thestrals. Only those witnessing the death of someone else can see them. They’re the price you pay for seeing death in the magical world,” he explained in a gentle voice, leaning forward so he could smooth down Taehyun’s fringe. He made a good older brother, it was a shame he didn’t quite believe so himself. “Wooyoung had the misfortune of going through that.”
“Oh...” Taehyun looked up at Wooyoung, the question already forming on the tip of his tongue, ready to be asked, but Yeosang shook his head gently. Taehyun pouted, but he kept quiet.
Seonghwa smiled at the Kang brothers before he turned his attention towards Wooyoung, who sat rigid in his seat, an image of perfect calmness, but beneath this lie of his he was like a stormy sea. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it once used to be, but seeing the thestrals was an annual reminder of the tragedy that was his childhood and family.
“Wooyoung,” he called out, his friend blinked, surprised, and turned his head to look at him.
“Where’s Jongho?” he asked; with the Gryffindor it was usually the best to divert the attention away from his pain and sorrows.
Wooyoung shrugged. “He said he wanted to ride with his Slytherin fellows. Felix apparently has some riveting stories to tell of his summer.”
“A shame. I thought we could discuss our next D&D campaign.”
“We can do that tomorrow. After all, classes don’t start until the 3rd,” Yeosang told him.
“I guess you’re right.” Seonghwa leaned back into his seat, still looking at Wooyoung with worry, but the Gryffindor gave him a trembling yet reassuring smile. “We lucked out this year, huh?”
“Next year, too,” Wooyoung agreed. “I doubt they would make us have one day of classes and then, bam! Weekend.”
“We’re going to be sixth years then, don’t be too optimistic,” Yeosang muttered.
Wooyoung’s eyes widened as he took in his friend’s words. “Time sure flies. I still remember getting sorted.”
Yeosang grimaced at that.
Seonghwa thought back to his first year.
He came from a Muggle family, so the whole experience had been more than thrilling and exciting, it had been utterly terrifying. Seonghwa had thrown up during his first train ride. A trembling and shy eleven year old Yeosang had handed him a Chocolate Frog as a friendship offering; said frog had jumped out of its box and into the train’s hallway. Until then, the whole wizardry ordeal had still seemed so surreal to Seonghwa, but that damned frog had turned on the switch in his brain that it had been, in fact, all real. Magic was real. Thankfully, Yeosang had helped him get to the toilet before he could’ve thrown up into their compartment.
The group fell into animated and loud chatter, the wind settling down at some point, when they put distance between themselves and the Great Lake, and the Forbidden Forest rose to their left. Even if Seonghwa had found himself in there several times—even once at night time for a particular nasty detention in his third year—he still feared it. It was too big and too unknown, there were too many corners someone (or something) could hide in. Worst of all, whenever he stared at it he felt as though someone was staring back.
Seonghwa shuddered and pointedly looked the opposite direction, where a wide field opened up, in the distance the lake spread out like a dark abyss, and if he had nocturnal sight he would probably see the Quidditch pitch. He couldn’t wait to fly again. He never thought he’d be one for flying, considering he grew up a Muggle, but he absolutely loved it. Seonghwa was an avid jogger and the spark he felt whenever he ran boundlessly, with the wind swirling past him and the burning in his legs, reminded him a lot of flying—it was freeing.
~*~
When the Ravenclaws and their Gryffindor crossed the castle’s huge entrance door to enter the Great Hall, most students had already reunited in the grand room, sitting at their respective tables, Seonghwa found himself relax completely, his shoulders sagging, and a lazy smile bloomed on his face.
“I’ll see you guys later,” Wooyoung told them and bounced off to the right to sit with the Gryffindors.
The Ravenclaws walked over to their own table near the Gryffindor one, searching for empty spots to sit down at. Taehyun walked off to sit with his second year friends, leaving Yeosang and Seonghwa to sit at the edge of the table, by the front of the room where the castle’s staff was seated at. Seonghwa didn’t exactly enjoy that, it felt too much as though they were under the professors’s radar.
(No secretly hexing Hongjoong and turning his food stale, he thought, a bit dejectedly.)
The Great Hall’s door opened again and in came the head of their house, Professor Yoo Yeojoo, accompanying the sea of first years. She sent her Ravenclaw students a warm smile and acknowledging nod. She could be strict, but she was kind and fair too.
Seonghwa let his eyes roam around the room. From where he sat, his back towards the Gryffindor table, he could see the Slytherin and Hufflepuff tables clearly, the latter by the far end, a quiet and excited chatter coming from the brimming masses of students. Jongho sat together with his Slytherin friend, Lee Felix, who had bright pink hair this time around, but it could be a matter of seconds before he were to change it again.
Unwillingly, Seonghwa’s eyes drifted towards the Hufflepuff table, searching as he listened to Professor Yoo call out the first student to be sorted. The kid sat down on the stool, nervously tucking on the Sorting Hat, and seconds later the word Hufflepuff sounded loudly in the Great Hall. Seonghwa observed how a blur of black and yellow warmly greeted their new house mate, excited and welcoming. Amidst them, Hongjoong stood out like a sore thumb with his bright red hair. Seonghwa watched him reach out his hand to pat the new Hufflepuff on her shoulder, a blinding smile on his face. His white teeth sparkled just like the Prefect badge on his chest.
Hongjoong sat down again, pulling down Mingi with him—who was cheering on the scared first year in an overtly excited manner—and their eyes met for a second. Seonghwa’s brain was too sluggish to look away immediately and so Hongjoong caught him staring, raising his eyebrows in taunt question. Seonghwa was about to sneer at him, when Mingi made a rather brusque and offensive movement with his hand, followed by some strange and dumb facial expressions. Hongjoong’s high pitched laughter carried over to the Ravenclaw table. He was slapping Mingi’s shoulder, saying something to him.
“Ugh,” Yeosang muttered, a displeased scowl on his lips. “They’re really not clever.” He had his arm propped up on the table, his face lying in the palm of his hand as he tiredly stared at the Hufflepuffs. His fluffy, dark blond hair fell over his eyes. Seonghwa moved his hand to remove it away from his face. “Thanks.”
“I can’t wait to beat their asses out on the Quidditch pitch,” Seonghwa muttered, looking away from the Hufflepuff table with a grimace painting his face now. He looked back at the Slytherin table, where Jongho was already staring at him, mouthing something. “What’s he trying to say?” he asked and nodded his chin at their friend.
Yeosang looked away from the Hufflepuff table, too, and squinted his eyes at Jongho. “I’ll. Break. Their. Uh...” Laughter bubbled out of him. “ I’ll break their kneecaps .”
Seonghwa gave Jongho a thumbs up, nodding in approval.
“You’re a Prefect, you shouldn’t encourage his violent tendencies,” Yeosang pointed out. Seonghwa shot him a look, pinching his sides. Yeosang squirmed away, a yelp escaping him, and glared reproachfully at Seonghwa.
“Jongho’s allowed to break kneecaps if they’re Hongjoong’s,” he said, sending Jongho finger hearts now, the Slytherin pretended he was dodging the hearts. “Or Mingi’s,” he added as an afterthought.
Yeosang hummed in agreement.
“Ravenclaw!” Professor Yoo called out then, the first Ravenclaw being sorted.
It was a small boy with short, black hair, rich brown eyes, and dark skin. He smiled proudly and hesitantly as he reached the Ravenclaw table. They welcomed him warmly, hugging him and pinching his cheeks as they cooed.
“He looks promising,” someone commented from Seonghwa’s left. It was Seo Changbin, one of their Quidditch Beaters. “Too bad we have to wait until he’s in his second year.”
Seonghwa shrugged. “Our team was pretty strong last year. If it weren’t for two of our best players falling sick...”
Changbin rolled his eyes, “Sorry for literally dying.”
“Don’t be dramatic,” Yeosang told him with a snort.
“Are you going to try out this year again?” Seonghwa inquired, as team Captain it was his duty to win the Quidditch Cup that year, their last (and his only) win had been during his third year.
“Of course, Captain!” Changbin saluted him, then laughed embarrassed at himself.
“I think I’ll try out this year too,” Yeosang spoke up shyly. He used to play in his second and third year, but the past year he hadn’t applied for the tryouts, after the incidents during that summer the pressure and attention had gotten to him, making him unnecessarily anxious.
Seonghwa was glad to hear he had changed his mind.
“Really?”
“Yes. I’ve missed playing Quidditch, and the team.”
“Everyone will be excited to hear this!” Seonghwa promised him with an encouraging smile.
After all first years were sorted, their Headmistress—Min Yoonji—stood up to hold the yearly speech. Seonghwa tuned it out, this was his fifth year, consecutively, hearing it—even if there were slight alterations to it, essentially it was always the same. When she was done the tables magically filled up with food and the Great Hall fell into moderate silence, as everyone dug in, eating at their heart’s content.
Seonghwa had missed Hogwarts’s food, not that his parents’s cooking was bad or that he couldn’t cook himself, but there was just something magical (no pun intended) about the food at the castle. Perhaps it was the feeling of being truly home and belonging somewhere that added more to the taste, or perhaps it was just that he absolutely adored Hogwarts and everything within and about it.
Whatever it was, by the end of the dinner he had a stuffed belly.
Once the Welcoming Feast came to an end, the big room filled with wonderful scents still, and the excited and content chatter of the students bounced off the stone walls, Seonghwa let out a pleased sigh. He leaned forward to rest his head on the palm of his hand, his eyelids drooping dangerously.
“Come on,” Yeosang muttered, getting up. Seonghwa followed suit, stretching out. There was nothing more he desired to do than fall into the soft blankets of his bed.
“I am so fucking tired,” he complained, the idea of walking up all the stairs to the fifth floor suddenly felt like a world journey.
“I have to speak with Professor Im about some tutoring classes,” Yeosang said, ducking out of the Great Hall with a wave at Seonghwa. “I’ll see you in the Ravenclaw Tower!” Seonghwa frowned, wondering why on earth Yeosang needed tutoring when he was one of the brightest students in their year. “Don’t forget you’re a Prefect and hold the duty to lead the first years to the Ravenclaw Tower,” Yeosang reminded him, speaking over his shoulder, with concern. If it weren’t for his anxiety he’d be the one to wear the Prefect badge, without doubt.
“Ugh, shut up!” Seonghwa shot back weakly, but he was already searching for Yeeun and the other Prefects to fulfill his duties.
Yeosang grinned and stalked away towards the door where the professors’s offices lay.
He had been right, though, and when Seonghwa directed the young Ravenclaws through the castle’s labyrinthine corridors and staircases, he wished he had eaten considerably less. Luckily, each house had six Prefects, which meant it wasn’t the end of the world if Seonghwa was slacking off that night. He lazily helped Yeeun guide a few lost first years towards the staircase that lead to the Ravenclaw Tower.
“Oh, gosh! It’s a ghost!” a girl suddenly screamed, terrified, and pointed her finger at a translucent figure approaching them slowly.
The ghost was floating a few inches over the floor and, although they were fairly distinguishable, they weren’t exactly corporeal. The floating wasn’t usually a thing, this particular ghost just loved to be dramatic. It was a boy, a year older than Seonghwa, with black hair parted in the middle. His eyes held an empty expression, showing more white than his brown irises. His lips were parted, the corners of his mouth twitching as he was holding back loud laughter.
Compared to the other ghosts in Hogwarts, this one wasn’t as translucent, he looked more human—which was a mystery he never seemed ready to answer.
“Choi San!” Seonghwa scolded him. “Don’t scare the first years!”
San finally broke out of his ‘scary ghost’ character, his laughter high pitched and loud. His eyes crinkled and he bent forward so he could slap his knees. San used to be a Hogwarts student, during the 90s. He was now one of the more notorious Slytherin house ghosts, and heartthrob of many students. He was charming, passionate, funny, and incredibly handsome. With slender cat like eyes, full of mirth and empathy; with full and rich lips, tinted a dark red...
Seonghwa could understand the numerous crushes, but alas, Choi San was a ghost.
“Don’t be so boring, Seonghwa,” San complained, rolling his eyes. “Don’t tell me that shiny badge is making you a goody two shoes!” San put a hand on his mouth, in mock shock. It was ironic, considering San had been Prefect before his death.
“San, it’s nice to see you around,” Yeeun interjected politely, “but it’s late and I’m afraid these first years need to rest—us Prefects included.” She pointed at herself and Seonghwa, smiling pointedly at the ghost.
“Of course, right you are, Miss Jang.” San nodded, dropping his teasing act, and waved his hand at them as they kept moving. “Ah, Seonghwa, wait!” he called out.
Seonghwa gave Yeeun a questioning look.
“Eh, we’re nearly there anyway,” she said with a resigned sigh. “Go speak with your friend.”
San still stood where he had interrupted them, and he waited for the mass of Ravenclaws to be fully gone before he addressed the Prefect.
“I’m sure Jongho would’ve told you himself, but you know how he is,” San began talking and eyed the numerous staircases. The castle grew tall, far and wide, around them. Now that the first years were gone, it was eerily quiet in the corridor—only the whispering of certain paintings were to be heard. “He doesn’t like to ask for help, or bother you guys too much. Thinks he is a nuisance.” He shook his head as if sad about the fact that Jongho didn’t open up to them.
“What is it, San?” Seonghwa asked, growing a bit impatient. Perhaps San did have all the time in the world, but Seonghwa didn’t, and right now all he wanted to do was to fall into his soft and rather welcoming bed.
“He’s been having nightmares,” San disclosed.
Seonghwa frowned. “Don’t we all have nightmares from time to time?”
The ghost glanced at him, face unreadable. “That might be true, but these nightmares are different.”
“How so?”
“They just are. And I know that over summer they only have gotten worse.”
“He never mentioned any of this in the letters we exchanged,” Seonghwa muttered, feeling a bit hurt that his younger friend hadn’t trusted him fully. “What should we do?”
San shrugged. “I’m not sure. For now, I’ll keep an eye on him, I just thought you should know... I’m a ghost, what I can and can’t do is pretty limited.”
“Thank you for telling me, San.”
Seonghwa really did appreciate it, he was just a bit concerned how best to bring it up to Jongho without revealing that San had gone behind the Slytherin’s back. Maybe he’ll come to me, Seonghwa thought hopeful. Or maybe San’s just overreacting.
“I’ll be going then,” the ghost said, inclining his head. “Sleep well, Seonghwa.”
“Good night, San,” he quipped and walked past the ghost, through the big arch, behind which the staircase to the Ravenclaw Tower lay.
“You know I don’t sleep!” the ghost called out; and without looking back, Seonghwa knew San was rolling his eyes.