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The Hufflepuff common room glows a faded mustard color in the afternoon sun. Jeno sits on one of the high circular window sills like a cat in the solar rays. He remembers herding Mark into helping him climb up for the first time in his first year and the crash of the broken flower pot that resulted from it. Now with his longer legs, he can easily reach the ledge by himself, and the prefects have stopped replacing the plants after the fifth broken vase.
It’s a shame that Donghyuck was put in Gryffindor, Jeno ponders, because he would definitely come up here to lounge with him. Unlike Mark who scuttled off after he had hoisted Jeno up and left him stranded. He sighs and rolls onto his back, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the sun.
Back then the window sill had been an adventure, a place he wasn’t meant to be, somewhere to go for fun. Now it’s used for the days that Jeno feels like throwing himself into the giant squid’s arms. Days like today, for example. Remembering the absolute shit show of his potion session, Jeno lets out a groan that’s muffled into his arm. The sound of a book closing echoes through the almost empty room.
“Jeno, that’s the fifteenth time you’ve groaned since I’ve been here. Is there something you’d like to talk about?”
Jeno peeks out from his arm to glance over at Taeyong, tucked into one of the fluffiest armchairs by the fireplace with a textbook balancing on his knees. Cauldron Connoisseurs: Potions for the Advanced it reads. Jeno groans again, louder this time, and rolls away from the older boy. “No,” he bites out, “just let me wither away and die up here. It’s what I deserve.”
“It can’t be that bad.” Jeno hears the book thump onto the large oak table by the chair and footsteps pad across to him. He thinks of a way to get across how truly horrendous his situation is to his friend.
“Do you remember when we found the secret passage behind the statue of Greta the Great last year?”
“...Yes.”
“And do you remember that when we came out at the end we saw Mark and Donghyuck shoving their tongues into each other’s throats?”
They both shudder. “…Yes.”
“It’s worse than that.” The silence stretches out from behind him. Jeno rolls back over to see Taeyong biting his lower lip in a grimace. The older boy’s blonde hair shines in the light.
“Okay, that’s pretty bad.”
“Exactly. So let me die up here in peace, will you? Just tell the first years I’m a new House ghost or something.”
“I mean, alright if you don’t wanna tell me what happened-”
A BANG! rings through the common room, followed closely by a string of muttered curses and the sound of ceramic breaking, causing Jeno and Taeyong to jerk towards the entrance direction. “Donghyuck!” Mark’s voice calls from the direction of the staircase.
“Sorry, sorry! I’ll pay for that!” Donghyuck’s sheepish reply comes moments before the Gryffindor breaks into the opening, taking gulps of air in before he spots the two Hufflepuffs by the window.
“With what money?” Mark enters behind his boyfriend, blue hair mussed up like he chased Donghyuck all the way here. Which, knowing them, he probably did. Donghyuck is already taking long strides towards Jeno, arms outstretched in a hug motion and lips in a pout.
“Worry about that later, babe. We’ve got a Jeno to comfort.” Donghyuck reaches below the edge of Jeno’s window fortress to stand beside a confused Taeyong. “Thanks for taking care of him Taeyong, but we’ve got it from here.”
“Thank... you..? To be quite honest, I don’t even know what I’ve been taking care of him for.” Taeyong's eyebrows are scrunched at the bright smile on Donghyuck’s face and the pinched expression Mark wears behind him.
“ You don’t know? ” At those words, Jeno’s body convulses and he jerks down to slap his palms anywhere he can reach on his Gryffindor friend, but it’s useless. The black-haired boy is too far and Jeno has yanked his body too fast and now he’s speeding towards a rusted orange bean bag conveniently placed below the window’s edge.
Jeno lands with an OOF as Donghyuck continues, ignoring his best friend’s crumpled form on the floor in front of them. “The whole castle is talking about how Jeno Lee is in looooove --”
Jeno pulls his face from the cushion to shout, “Donghyuck, please dear Merlin, don’t!”
No one hears him apparently, and no one cares that he’s flailing out of the beanbag to tackle Donghyuck before he can say “--with Jaemin Na.”
Jeno’s body connects with Donghyuck’s a moment too late, and the words fall out before the both of them roll over ancient wood flooring and only stop when they hit the sofa. Jeno finds himself on his back with a very heavy Donghyuck on his torso, staring into Mark’s apologetic face when he hears a throat clear from across the room.
“You’re right Jeno. That is worse.”
*
The day, as Jeno recounts to Taeyong after Donghyuck had rolled off of him, started absolutely normal; almost too normal. Which is why he should’ve immediately known it would all go to shit.
He woke up late for breakfast, threw on his tie, and ran down the corridors to snatch a plate of bacon before it all vanished. On the way, he had run by Renjun and Doyoung, matching blue ties snug against their necks, in a heated debate over the ethics of pygmy puff shows, and Kunhang and Dejun, not long after, sticking up Quidditch try-out flyers for Gryffindor. Jeno had just rounded the doorway to the Great Hall when he felt a familiar cold chill sweep over him from the direction of the Slytherin table.
Contrary to popular belief Jeno doesn’t have any issues with Slytherins as a whole. Yangyang, a Slytherin in his year, is actually one of his good friends he’s made through classes and not just from his House or Donghyuck. Sure, was he a bit iffy on the other boy when they were partnered together for Charms? Yeah, but that was only because Yangyang is notoriously awful at the subject.
Chenle also isn’t too bad, when he’s not connected at the hip to his viper of a best friend, Jaemin Na. Jaemin, commonly known as the cold chill of evil that plagues Jeno consistently, is his sworn enemy. Jeno’s friends claim that the hatred is one-sided, that the Slytherin boy wouldn’t care less about Jeno if he wasn’t the one continuing their bitter feud all these years, but he knows better. Jeno knows the stinging words Jaemin can spit more than anyone else in the castle.
*
Jeno thought the boat ride to the castle was peaceful; at least as peaceful as it can be with the pent up energy of the boy on his right-Donghyuck, he had learned- leaning over the edge the entire way, or with the complete silence from the boy on his left, Jaemin.
Jaemin, 11-year-old Jeno thought, was one of the prettiest people he had ever seen. Prettier than the honey-suckle that grew outside his house, prettier than the sparklers he ignited with his first show of magic, prettier than the girl that kissed his cheek last summer, prettier than anything.
“What House do you think you’ll get?” Jeno asked, hands fidgeting with nerves, eager to make friends. He didn’t know much about the Houses, just what Donghyuck had sporadically told him on the train ride to their new home. Jaemin tore his eyes from the horizon to look at Jeno with blank indifference, “Slytherin. Everyone in my family has been a Slytherin since before the war.”
Jeno nodded, forcing his smile to cover up how confused he was at the mention of a war he had no idea about. His stomach churned with the impression that Jaemin was offended that he had even thought to ask. “Oh. Then I hope I get Slytherin too and we can be friends!”
Jaemin’s eyes flashed for a moment in the lantern’s light and he quickly placed his gaze back onto the castle’s shore they docked against before he stood up. His robes were a bit too long and his face a bit too hard to be 11 years old, “I hope to Merlin you’re not.”
And then he was gone. Stepping into the sea of anxious first years swarming around. Donghyuck stayed with him, pointing out different items floating along the ceilings, oblivious to the hurt and rejection Jeno was feeling. As a muggle-born, he had no prior experience with magic, and if this is what the wizarding world was like , Jeno thought, then I don't want it .
Time passed quickly inside the Great Hall as they called the names to be sorted. Kids came and went through the hats appraisal and with it came cheers from students that Jeno had tuned out. Then his name was called from the scroll, and the silence that followed was consuming. He cataloged the echo of his footsteps on the stone, and the look of detachment on Jaemin’s face as he spotted the other boy watching him ascend the stairs.
“What do we have here?” A decrepit voice slithered into Jeno’s skull as the hat was placed on his head and he felt himself flinch at the unseen intrusion, “Ah I see. You have a great deal of loyalty in you, a need to prove yourself, and an immense amount of stubbornness. Interesting indeed, Mr. Lee, I think I know right where to place you.”
“What does that mean?” Jeno felt himself ask aloud, a few students up front giggling at his innocence.
“It means, child, that you belong in.. HUFFLEPUFF!”
The talking hat was removed from his head, leaving him to re-adjust to the hundreds of candle lights and students cheering for him, most of which came from the table adorned with yellow and black-- his new home. Jeno felt eyes on him, even as the next name was called, but when he turned back to the crowd of other First years he saw no one lookig his way. Even so, the invisible gaze burned into his skin as he found a seat by a boy with bright eyes and a brighter smile - “Hi, I’m Mark!” . At some point Jeno heard Jaemin’s name called.
The hat fell atop the other boys head, covering his carefully blank face, and laid there only long enough to breathe in before shouting a head rattling, “SLYTHERIN!”
Jeno watched as Jaemin calmly walked towards the table of silver and emerald with a tense but postured frame. He felt himself continue the night in slow motion, even as the table displayed more food than he’d ever know what to do with. Jeno thought about his first hour in the wizarding world. The pretty boy in his boat had turned out to be a massive prick, and it shouldn't have bothered him so much, he only knew the kid for a solid ten minutes. Yet, something about the way his eyes flashed and his face hardened before belittling Jeno had stuck with him; it broke his heart a little.
He thought about it while he ate dinner that night, and the first week of classes, when he’d catch glimpses of Jaemin with another First year boy that had also been sorted into Slytherin, and he thought about it until the day came that he spoke to Jaemin again a month later.
“Hi Jaemin.” Jeno’s gloved hands twisted themselves in his lap as the other boy approached their Herbology assigned desk. Jaemin sat down, ignoring Jeno’s greeting, and busied himself with pulling out his copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. Jeno frowned at the blatant disregard, but tried to push past it, embracing all that he had learned living amongst Hufflepuffs.
“Are you excited to plant the dittany? I heard that when the seeds we plant sprout, that Madame Lucy will use it to treat patients! I think that’s pretty cool don’t y--”
“Merlin do you ever shut up?” Jaemin questioned, throwing Jeno into a stunned silence. They stared at one another, before the Slytherin broke away first to roughly flip the pages in his book. The class continued chattering around them unaware of the tension rising between the two boys. Jeno clenched his jaw to keep it from wobbling at the hateful question. He wanted to think that the other boy’s attitude had simply been a bad day, a one-time thing, but it was becoming clear this sense of entitlement and snobbery was something ingrained in the Slytherin.
“ Maybe I’d shut up if my desk partner wasn’t such an assho--”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” Jaemin’s face faded into an angry shade of pink.
“Or what? You’ll ignore me again? Tell me to shut up? News flash , the world doesn’t revolve around you .” Jeno’s voice crescendoed as he felt himself getting angrier and angrier at the unjustified rudeness Jaemin had given him anytime they’re near each other. It was tiring, it was humiliating, and it was the only thing that Jeno could think about in this entire stupid castle.
“BOYS,” A voice from the greenhouse doorway yelled. The two of them jumped and looked to find their Professor staring disapprovingly at them, “If you two are done I think it best that you be separated for the remainder of the year. Mr. Lee move your things to join Mr. Xiao. Ms. Jung could you sit with Mr. Na from now on? Thank you dear.”
Professor Kang waited until they’d begrudgingly moved their things to speak again, walking to the front of the class. “I’ll have to place you both in detention for tonight, as well. Maybe that will teach you two how to behave civilly in the same room. No more interruptions, do I make myself clear?”
Jeno’s stomach ached at the realization of getting his first detention. He had promised his mother that he would be good, kind, and avoid trouble like the plague, yet here he was arguing and disrupting class all over some boy. He nods, “Yes Professor.”
The ache in his stomach hardened into a deep pain at the thought of sharing his detention with Jaemin Na. He ruined Jeno’s first night here, he’d continued to ruin his thoughts, and now he’d ruined his promise to his mother.
‘ Well if he wants to ruin me, then I can ruin him right back. ’ Jeno thought to himself in the humid greenhouse. He dared to glance back at Jaemin’s bitter, yet unconcerned face, and resoluted himself to his goal. Jeno felt something change in the air, a sharp tang in his bones, and willed himself to focus on the lecture. Patience isn’t something Jeno has ever had much of, but for Jaemin, he was in this for the long haul.
*
The feeling festered and grew into a bitter distaste for the Slytherin over the years. As time passed it became apparent that the two should never be allowed near each other without a mutual friend or two to watch them unless they wanted another explosion or visit to the infirmary on their hands, but it wasn’t always Jeno’s fault honestly .
Like in their second year when Jaemin had most definitely been the one to leave a fucking Chocolate Frog on his transfiguration desk; a dessert that he notoriously despised because there was no way he was eating a frog much less one that was basically alive. A fact that Donghyuck made sure to laugh at him for and had Mark smiling politely behind his hand.
Or in their fourth year when Jeno joined the Quidditch team as a Chaser, Jaemin just had to join the school’s newspaper as the sports reporter, making sure to always flash the blinding camera light into his face spitefully. No matter how many times Renjun tried to tell him he was just doing his job - “ You’d be mad at him too if he never took any pictures of you playing!” - he knew it was just to screw up his plays.
Which brings him to this morning, standing at the entrance of the Great Hall, fighting the urge to shove a cinnamon roll into Jaemin Na’s stupid face.
“Hey- Jeno!” Yangyang calls from the end of the Slytherin table closest to the doorway. He’s waving his arm sporadically like Jeno wouldn’t be able to hear his ear-splitting yell from thirty feet away. Chenle is smiling at him way too bright this early in the morning while buttering a bagel and elbowing Jaemin who stares at him like someone had slipped a puking pastry onto his plate. Jeno’s eye twitches minutely. Prick .
“Jenoooo, I have a quick question!” Yangyang shouts again , earning a few wary heads turning between Jeno and Jaemin. Gathering his willpower, Jeno starts toward the Slytherin trio knowing nothing good was going to happen. He places a well-practiced lopsided smile on his face as he approaches them.
“Hey Yang! Chenle, how’s it going? Slytherin team just as shit as last year?” He smirks playfully at the smiley boy, purposefully not greeting the steely black-haired boy next to him.
“You wish, Lee. We’re gonna have you weeping to your mothers this season.” Chenle retorts before sweeping a piece of peach colored hair off his face and biting into his bagel. Jeno snorts.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re both the next Oliver Woods,” Yangyang interrupts, “Anyway that’s not what we called you over for. Jeno Lee, my best friend, the greatest Charms partner anyone could ask for, best looking guy around - no, Chenle we don’t care how hot you think you are - you’re acing Potions, right?”
“...Yeees?”
“Great! Jaemin here,” a hand gestures to the boy across the table, “is absolute balls at it.”
“Thank you for the boost in confidence Yangyang,” Jaemin grumbles for the first time since Jeno had walked up.
“Shut up. You suck ass; just accept it.”
Jeno smirks, enjoying the way Jaemin is being humbled before his very eyes. He brings a hand up to run it through his hair before replying back, “I don't know I mean I have a lot of other assignments and then there’s Quid--”
“Listen Jeno, I wouldn’t ask unless it was absolutely dire, but he has to pass the potions exam coming up or he can’t stay on the newspaper staff and we, unfortunately, need him-”
“Um. Hello?”
“-and I happen to know you’re a killer class partner! Remember when you kept me from flooding the Charms classroom? Or the time I melted the table? Or the time I almost blinded Professor Kim? Or—”
Jeno sighs, “Yang if I agree, will you let me go eat my bacon in peace?”
“Absolutely.” Yangyang smiles brightly in a way that Jeno knows is full of evil intent. There’s no way that he didn’t go on a tangent about his numerous Charms fuck ups that Jeno has worked so hard to forget without knowing it would wear him down into agreeing. Slytherin to the core, that one.
“Fine. Fine, yeah, I’ll help him with potions.” Yangyang whoops and Chenle pumps his fist while gulping down orange juice at a frankly inhuman pace. Jaemin stays silent.
“If,” Jeno cuts in, “Jaemin asks me for help himself.”
Chenle chokes on the juice and pulp splatters across Yangyang’s plate of toast, but the blonde boy is too busy whipping his head to Jaemin to notice. “Ask him.”
“What? No!”
“Jaemin I swear to Salazar Slytherin himself if we lose out on the Quidditch Cup issue because you’re too stuck up your ass ove--”
“OKAY,” Jaemin shouts, shooting Yangyang a glare that sends nearby students curling away. He turns his steely eyes to Jeno, who stands smugly with his hands clasped in front of him, a perfect picture of nonchalance, “Jeno Lee will you help me with my potions exam?”
“I’m sorry? I didn’t quite catch that.” Jeno leans forward and cups his ear, far too dramatic for the situation. He heard him perfectly fine.
“ You know what I said you little-”
“Merlin above, can you two keep your sexual tension away from my breakfast? It’s infesting my bagels.” Chenle speaks over whatever polite term Jaemin was about to throw at him.
Yangyang nods, tired. “Jeno just, please help him with the potion, and Jaemin pull the stick out of your ass. Quite frankly, you’re both being little dickwipes.”
Jeno has the decency to look embarrassed at the call-out. Jaemin simply sniffs and looks down at his eggs before addressing Jeno again. Neither of them enjoy making Yangyang of all people angry enough to snap.
“Right then. Will you help me with my potion or not, Lee?”
Jeno shuffles under the heavy gazes of Yangyang and Chenle and the defeated tone of Jaemin’s voice. He didn’t know the guy could sound so.. tired. He also really doesn’t want to be the reason the paper can’t release their Quidditch Cup edition. That’s the main reason he agrees. Definitely.
“Yes, your majesty, I’ll help you. When’s your free period?”
“After lunch.” There’s a twinge of what Jeno would call relief in the other boy's voice.
“Okay good me too. Meet me in the practice potions room then. Don’t be late.”
He doesn’t wait around to hear if the black-haired boy replies. Grabbing a few pieces of bacon off the Slytherin table he sets off down the aisle to his first period. The last thing Jeno hears as he exits is the shout of a certain blonde snake.
“Ugh, why is there fucking pulp on my toast?”
*
“So you tutored him with potions once, and that means you’re in love with him?” Taeyong asks. He’s moved back to the old chair while Jeno has been recounting his horrifying day; Donghyuck and Mark have tucked themselves around each other in the giant bean bag that Jeno's face planted in earlier.
“Not exactly…” He winces at the memory.
*
Jeno hates potions. Which makes no sense at all, because he’s making top marks in the class. He even got an O for the subject on his O.W.L.S last year. And yet, he hates it. It could be the time-consuming, detail-oriented nature of the practice or the way Professor Choi drolls on and on before even getting to the assignments. Either way, it doesn’t matter in the end because somehow Jeno is still amazing at potions.
He thinks about how his life ended up like this, tutoring some guy he hates on a subject he also hates. The practice room is full of random tables and cauldrons of various sizes, all being used by witches and wizards desperately hoping to improve by exam time. Thankfully Mark is here too, working at a nearby desk with another Slytherin friend, Yuta. Jeno stretches his legs under the table and checks the time again. 1:27 and still no Jaemin.
“You know, you could come sit with us instead of pouting at that little bowl.” Yuta remarks as he hands Mark various ingredients for his draught of peace.
“It’s called a mortar.” Mark’s tongue pokes out from the side of his mouth. Yuta rolls his eyes.
“Dude, you sure you’re not a Ravenclaw?” The Slytherin asks as he props his feet up on an empty chair, “I know what the little bowl— mortar is. I just like getting under Jeno’s skin.”
Jeno scoffs. “I’m not leaving this seat just for Jaemin to put like.. a tack on it or something.”
“As if I’d ever attempt something that brainless,” a clipped voice speaks from behind him, “I’d more likely change the frame into rubber while you’re not looking.”
Jeno spins his head to Jaemin, school bag slung over his shoulder and face impassive as ever, before turning back to the table. Jaemin sits next to him and pulls his potions book out.
“Y’know I think I specifically remember telling you not to be late, Na.”
“Well unlike some people I don’t like to run through the halls like an idiot; wouldn’t want to do something moronic like run into a statue.”
“Ooh ouch. Almost got me there,” Jeno winces back, placing a hand over his heart in faux pain, “One, I’m not an idiot, and two, that’s only happened like twice.”
Jaemin levels him with a stare, “..okay maybe three times.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Lee. Can we just get on with this? I don’t want to be here anymore than you do; hate making these stupid potions.”
“Then why are you taking Choi’s advanced potions class?”
“I hate potions,” Jaemin’s words are clipped, “but I love excelling, and the line between love and hate is irritatingly thin.”
Jeno bites his cheek, keeping his eye from twitching at the other’s snooty tone, and nods. “Fine. What potion are you doing for the exam? I’ll get the stuff from the closet.”
Jaemin is flipping through his book, eyes flicking from page to page until he stops at one tinged pink with hearts written on the edges. Jeno knows exactly what potion it is without even looking at the title.
“ You’re trying to make Amortentia? ” He exclaims before he can think to lower his volume. The classroom falls noticeably quieter at the announcement. Mark even stops stirring his sludge; Yuta nudges him to continue but keeps his eyes on the commotion at Jeno’s table. Jaemin bristles, uncomfortable with the attention from other students and the judgment in Jeno’s voice.
“Would you keep your voice down,” Jaemin hisses at the brunette, “ Yes I’m making Amortentia; is that a problem for you?”
“Yes, actually, it is. I can’t be an accomplice in a crime just because no one wants to make little viper babies with you!”
Jaemin huffs a mirthless laugh and returns to his book. The potion itself isn’t hard, necessarily, just very demanding with its need for exact measurements. One wrong stir or an extra teaspoon of moonstone and it could boil over into a potion meant for all-consuming obsession.
“Trust me, that’s not the problem.”
“Then what is? Because I don’t remember Choi ever assigning the rest of us a fucking love potion !” Jeno’s arms flail at the end of his sentence and he can practically feel Jaemin rolling his eyes at the dramatics.
“He didn’t, you twit. I asked him what I could do to boost my grade up an extra letter and he said if I could manage to brew Amortentia for the exam he’d drop one of my lower scores as well.” He sighs and sets his hands on the edge of the table, bringing his shoulders up around his jaw, “I know you don’t understand, but I need this grade.”
Jeno pauses, listening to the undertone of desperation in the black-haired boy's words. It’s as close to a plea as he’ll ever get from the other and it makes his back straighten. And Jeno does understand, really, because despite being great at potions and fairly good at charms, he’s absolute shit at Astronomy.
“Alright,” Jeno relents, “luckily for you I’ve made this before- as a prank- but if you’re lying and this blows up in our faces I’m blaming you for all of it.”
“It is such a wonder how you weren’t put in Gryffindor with all that chivalry.”
“Fuck off, and heat the cauldron water to a boil before I get back.” Jeno spins on his heels, rushing his way to the ingredients closet in the back. The inside is far larger than it should be given the floor plan of the castle but, y’know, magic. Tracing a finger along the shelves he grabs the ashwinder eggs, rose thorns, and powdered moonstone.
Jeno pauses on the last ingredients. He could use rose petals but they could be temperamental with the thorns and he’s always preferred the translucent sheen that mother of pearl dust gives his potions. He grabs the bottle of shimmering powder and the honey next to it and leaves the closet back to Jaemin.
The black-haired boy is scrunched over his textbook when Jeno returns, finger tracing under each line as he reads along. “Being two inches from the page isn’t gonna make you understand it any better, y’know.”
Jaemin leans back and narrows his eyes at Jeno’s amused aura. His nimble hands reach out to take the fragile bottles from his crowded arms and he’s quick to place them in organized rows.
“Maybe not, but being cautious isn’t a bad thing,” Jaemin spits out, “ You could learn a thing or two from having some preparation.”
“Cautious shmautious; I’ve made it this far just fine thank you.” Jeno claps his hands together, “Did you heat the cauldron like I told you?”
“Obviously.” The water pops in agreement.
“Don’t bite my head off Na, just trying to be cautious ,” Jeno smirks to himself as Jaemin rolls his eyes. He scoots back onto his chair while the other gets into place in front of the bubbling cauldron.
“Now, you’re gonna take the powdered moonstone and scoop seven teaspoons exactly. No more and no less. Got it?” The Slytherin nods at his words and begins scooping at a careful pace. Jeno can't help but watch as he bites his lip in concentration. The streams of afternoon light have peaked over onto their side of the room and fall over Jaemin’s coal-colored hair, giving it a vague purple undertone.
“What now?” Jaemin asks, looking over at him. Jeno hopes he didn’t catch him staring. Not that he was. He would never. Ever.
“Now you crack eight ashwinder egg into that, make certain none of the shell gets in. Then, take the rose thorns and add sixteen while you stir clockwise twenty-five times.”
Jaemin huffs as he pulls out the needed ingredients, “This seems like a lot of work just to avoid asking someone out the old-fashioned way.”
Jeno hmms in agreement before he can think not to. Jaemin peaks from the corner of his eye with the hint of a smile. “Yeah well, I’m not the one that came up with it. You’d have to talk to Evelyn De Morgan about that.”
“I think I will,” Jaemin adds the rose thorns and stirs, “She couldn’t have made it any easier to coerce someone’s feelings?”
Jeno pauses, “You think that’s all this potion does?”
“Yes? Unless there’s an elusive Amortentia course I’m unaware of.”
“Nah it’s just, well— hold on that’s twenty-five stirs. Now take the honey and add one drop. We let that simmer for two minutes,” Jaemin follows his words and Jeno hands him a shimmering vial, “then add in seven scoops of mother of pearl dust and stir counterclockwise twenty-two times and boom- you’re done.”
Jaemin’s hand stops halfway to the bottle and his eyes narrow in suspicious confusion. “The book says to add rose petals, not mother of pearl dust.”
“Na, the book doesn’t know everything. Add the dust.”
“No.”
Jeno’s mouth drops, “ No? ”
“No.” Jaemin nods, mouth set into an unhappy line. “The book says rose petals, so I’m going to get the rose petals and you can try to sabotage some other poor soul’s potion, but not mine . ”
“Um what ? I’m here during my own free time helping you. Why would I try to ruin your potion, huh?” Jeno is borderline shouting but he can’t find any reason to care. He should’ve known the prick wouldn’t have made anything easy or nice.
Jaemin whirls to him from where he had been facing the closet before. His face is white, save for the angry red taking over his cheeks and neck. His hands are clenched at his sides and if Jeno didn’t know better he would’ve thought the Slytherin was going to hit him.
Jeno can’t hold his eyes and decides to take matters into his own fucking hands. He’s dropped five scoops of the mother of pearl dust in when a dainty hand grips his wrist deceptively hard and yanks him back. “Stop it!”
“I’m not screwing it up, Na! What is with your fucking delusion that I’m trying to fuck you over!”
“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe the same reason Yangyang had to break you down to help at all! You. Hate. Me.”
The silence is heavy and then-- laughter. “ I hate you? HA! Good one. As if you’re not the one fucking with me every goddamn year.”
Jaemin’s brow scrunches down and in a low voice he asks, “What the ever-loving hell are you talking about, Jeno Lee?”
“Ahem,” a voice cuts in from behind them, “Sorry to interrupt this beautiful climax of feelings but I think, and correct me if I’m wrong, that your love potion is about to explode.”
“ SHUT. UP. ” The Hufflepuff and Slytherin shout together.
Yuta puts his hands up in surrender as he lowers his body behind his table, “Yeah yeah fuck me am I right? Mark get your ass behind that damn chair; just thought I’d let you guys know you’re about to get covered in—“
The sound of a temperamental potion isn’t one the students of Hogwarts are stranger to. Nearly every day there’s a spill, burn, or in Jisung’s case, eyebrows that needed to be re-grown. Popping, hissing liquid isn’t unusual in the castle, but that doesn’t mean Jeno ever wanted to be on the receiving end of it.
Jeno’s only warning, disregarding Yuta, is the smell of ozone and the whistle like a tea kettle before he’s suddenly drenched in pink shimmering goop. He thinks he hears Mark shriek behind him, like the explosion had made some loud ass bang when it erupted- which to be fair, it probably had. But Jeno’s senses are filled with one thing. Jaemin .
Said boy is trembling in front of him, mouth open in shock and possibly leftover rage. The rosey liquid does nothing to tarnish his good looks, if anything he somehow looks better with his bangs wet and skin sparkling with iridescent pearl flakes. Jeno has bigger problems at hand, though, and it’s such an ‘oh shit’ moment that it shocks his spine straight. The potion is in his mouth, the thick honey flavor coats his tongue, and from the sheen on Jaemin’s lips, it’s in his too.
“Jaemin. I don’t want to alarm you, but I think we may have swallowed a bit of the potion..” Jeno cringes at the strain in his voice. He’s nervous for whatever Jaemin might do to him in retaliation for something that’s not even completely his fault. However Jaemin doesn’t reply; just stands there staring at Jeno while his bangs drip helplessly onto the stone floor.
“Jaemin? Are you okay? You don’t, like, feel a rash coming on? Or maybe a heavy sme—“
“I don’t feel anything, you moron, except indescribable rage.”
Jeno cringes and tries again, “I get that but I don’t thin—“
“No you don’t think, do you!” Jaemin’s voice is loud and biting, hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“This was supposed to be a simple potion session and you’ve managed to not only completely ruin my potion, but also my uniform, my book bag, and now, somehow, it smells like a fucking flower garden in here! ”
Jeno freezes after Jaemin is done yelling at him, cold realization creeping down his bones like ice on a vine. It doesn’t smell like a garden, at least not to him. All Jeno can seem to smell when he breathes is the scent of the ocean’s sea salt with a warm undercurrent of vanilla running through it. Yuta coughs from his hiding spot behind them.
“Could you repeat that last part for us?” Jaemin turns his hard gaze to the older Slytherin, and Jeno is suddenly grateful he can’t see the blood currently rushing out of his body.
“I said it smells like a fucking flower garden in here. I’d ask if you were stupid as well, but you probably can’t smell it because Jeno’s moronic ally revised potion didn’t get on you.” Malice drips from his words and if Jeno knows Yuta, and he does, it does nothing but egg him on.
Jeno hears Mark squeak in an attempt to hold Yuta back from spilling what they’ve already picked up on, but it’s useless.
“You know I think that’s exactly why I can’t smell this so called garden,” Yuta drawls, smirk lacing his words, “Don’t you think Jeno? I mean, you’re covered in potion so you smell the flowers too, right? Or do you?”
Jeno clenches his eyes, praying to whatever higher being there is that if he’s still and quiet long enough they’ll leave him alone and Jaemin will never figure out why he’s smelling a garden and Jeno will never have to explain why he’s not.
“I’m done playing whatever game you're trying at, Yuki—“
“It’s Yuta.”
“I truly do not care. I’m wet, sticky, and I can’t get this fucking minty rose smell out of my mouth, and you’re all being absolutly no help at all.”
“Yuta don’t.” Mark’s voice rings out slightly panicked.
“Fair enough, but you know,” Jeno hears book bags being picked up from the pair’s table, “Don’t you think that smells oddly similar to the perfume Jeno’s been wearing for the last couple years? Now what’s it called again? Ohh right,” he snaps his fingers, “ Mint Garden.”
Jeno thinks that all the people who have compared fear to the feeling of floating away haven’t actually reached the level of pure dread he’s at. His stomach twists in on itself at Yuta’s words and his feet seem to have melted into the stone floor. Merlin why did he think this could have ever gone okay.
Granted, he didn’t come into this tutor session thinking he was going to have his big fat crush on Jaemin get thrown out into the open. He didn’t even know he had a big fat crush to speak of. Except now that he thinks about it, all the years spent needling the Slytherin into giving Jeno his stony gaze; the hours spent mulling over how cocky, snobby, pretty Jaemin was…. maybe Jeno really is the moron here.
Maybe he was stupid for not putting it together, or maybe he was stupid for wasting all this time, or maybe he was the genius for saving himself the hurt of a relationship doomed to fail. Either way he wasn’t going to find out now in this dingy potions room with smell of sea salt overpowering everything.
“Jeno. What do you smell?” Jaemin’s quiet voice is deafening as it breaks the silence left looming over them after Yuta and Mark scurry out.
Jeno peaks an eye open at the Slytherin’s carefully blank face and says nothing. His knees lock and his face cramp from the fist he’s clenched them into.
“You don’t smell the mint, do you.”
“Of course I do. It’s my cologne.”
A pause, and then— “Liar.”
“Excuse me?” Jeno’s eyes blink open fully as Jaemin’s stare narrows on him, like he can see through Jeno’s very bones if he concentrates hard enough.
“I think,” Jaemin pops his index finger with his thumb, a nervous tic Jeno has noticed over the years, “that you’re lying. You smell something different. Yuta is an ass, but he doesn’t say things for no reason. Now tell me the truth; or are you scared to admit you’re lying?”
He is scared and he is lying, but he’d rather give the Whomping Willow a bear hug before admitting that. So Jeno Lee, the courageous and loyal Hufflepuff that he is, decides there’s only one thing to do.
“That’s actually really funny- oh my god what’s that? ” Jeno points to a random corner, hoping to distract Jaemin for a moment to make his escape.
It doesn’t work, as Jaemin isn’t a moron or a 3 year old, but Jeno still manages to swipe his bag and barrels out of the room at a speed that could be considered inhumane. He’s halfway down the hall by the time Jaemin makes it to the classroom doorway, leaving a trail of pearlescent liquid on the stone behind him.
“ Jeno, GET BACK HERE ."
*
“So let me get this straight,” Taeyong presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose, “you agreed to tutor Jaemin, the guy you’ve claimed to be mortal enemies with since day one, managed to blow up the potion, have your big stupid crush- that you didn’t even know about- get exposed, even though everyone with eyes knew you two were working through some serious UST, and when Jaemin started confronting you about it you sprinted all the way here to mope in the window.”
“What’s UST?” Mark asks.
“Unresolved Sexual Tension, babe, we talked about this.”
“Oh yeaaah, that weird foreplay thing they do.”
“I’m sorry? There’s no foreplay.” Jeno speaks from where his hand is being cocooned by his arms on the floor.
“No foreplay? Well that’s disappointing. No wonder Jaemin never said anything about his crush on you.” Jeno swats at Donghyuck’s ankle.
“He doesn’t have a crush on me!”
“The Peppermint Daisy up his nose says otherwise.” Donghyuck nudges Jeno with his foot and retracts it before he can get a good hit in.
“It’s Mint Garden, asshole.”
“Is no one concerned that Jeno is avoiding his problems by sitting in a window?” Taeyong questions from his chair. The afternoon light has fallen into a subtle moonlight filtering through the glass. Mark had started a fire sometime in the middle of Jeno’s retelling and the flames let out a soft crackle every so often.
Donghyuck snorts, “No.”
“Not really,” Mark adds in as he pokes at the knee his boyfriend has jammed into his ribs, “you should’ve seen him last year when Jaemin went with Dejun to the Yule Ball.”
“What do you mean, ‘ seen him ’? I was perfectly fine!”
“Yeah, if by fine you mean “accidentally” punching Dejun in the face during the Gryffindor match before the ball.” Mark laughs. Jeno huffs into the floor. There had been a Quidditch match last year, the day before the ball, against Gryffindor. A match where Jeno may or may not have slammed his fist into the chaser’s eye not on purpose.
“I didn’t hit him because he was going with Jaemin; I didn’t even do it on purpose!”
“Then why did you laugh when he showed up in his fancy robes and a black eye?” Mark asks, a knowing glint in his own eyes that Jeno doesn’t like very much. The guy seems a little air-headed most days, but Jeno knows he’s more observant than he lets on.
“I’m sorry you weren’t born with a sense of humor, Mark, but I was and I know for a fact Donghyuck thought his robes matching his eye was funny too.”
“Yeah,” Mark admits. Taeyong shoots Donghyuck a glare when he hears the younger boy snickering at the memory, “but Donghyuck didn’t stop laughing when Jaemin coddled him about it. You did.”
“Because I knew he’d make it out like I did it on purpose!” Jeno yells. He looks up from his arms as he gets his feet under him and glares at the three boys sitting around him with their interrogation. He didn't hit Dejun on purpose, he didn’t . The quaffle was too close and he was full of too much adrenaline.
“J--”
“And Dejun is my friend. I didn’t want him around the little viper!” Jeno waves his hands
“Ok Jen--”
“And maybe he should’ve been looking at me instead! Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? That maybe I would’ve liked it if Jaemin Na, the hardass from Slytherin, had went with me to the Yule Ball instead of the hunky beefcake from Gryffindor? That I want to know why he always looks so mad at everything? That I want to know how to fix it? That I’ve spent years being angry that he won’t let anyone- won’t let me- fix it?” Jeno comes to stop. His chest is heaving with air he didn’t take in during his rant. It’s silent in the common room.
Taeyong is the first to break the tender silence, “Jeno, it’s okay.”
He releases a shuddering breath, eyes wide and brain full of static. His nails dig into the skin of his palm as he replays what he just unconsciously revealed to everyone.
Did he mean all of that? Jeno lived his life by simple truths. The sky is blue, Quidditch is the best sport ever invented, and that he hated Jaemin. That’s how things went, it’s what he knew. He didn’t like Jaemin as much as Jaemin didn’t like him, and yet he couldn’t seem to shake the familiar voice in the back of his head.
‘The line between love and hate is irritatingly thin.’
“Oh fuck.. I think I like Jaemin.” Jeno looks up it’s into the understanding eyes of his friends.
*
“You’ve had a lot of dumb ideas, but I think this one takes the cake.” Johnny says from across the Gryffindor table. The morning light filters over his face making the amusement in his eyes more evident. Jeno scoffs into his eggs.
“I don’t see you coming up with anything better.”
“You’re joking. Jae, he’s joking right?”
“I really don’t think he is, unfortunately.” Jaehyun smooths his red and gold tie down and shares a side glance with Johnny’s distraught face. Jeno rolls his eyes and runs a hand through his newly dyed brown hair. The color isn’t much different from his natural black nor is it very eye-catching, but that’s exactly what he’s going for. Different enough to make someone pass over him, but not flashy enough to draw their gaze in the first place.
“Jeno you think dying your hair and sitting at the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tables for the foreseeable future to avoid Jaemin is a better plan that when I suggested actually talking to him and being honest?”
“Bingo! Y’know maybe the hat should've sorted you into Ravenclaw.”
The two boys stare at each other for a beat, ignoring the bustle of the Great Hall around them and the munch of toast from Jaehyun.
“You should be glad Taeyong kindly asked me not to bully you today; just so, so glad.” Johnny breaks the silence.
“‘Asked’? Is that what they call it now?” Jeno smirks at his own joke, and reaches for his glass of juice.
Johnny’s eyes narrow and fall somewhere over Jeno’s shoulder, “Oh hey Jaemin.”
Jeno jerks, panic injected into his bloodstream, and watches as the juice he intended for his mouth now runs down the front of his boring gray sweater. Johnny lets out a loud bark of laughter and Jaehyun even snorts at his newly damp apparel.
“He’s nowhere behind me, is he.”
Jaehyun shakes his head, evil smile etched onto his gentle face, dimples on full display.
“ Not funny, Johnny.”
“Oh I really beg to differ.”
*
The plan to avoid Jaemin actually works quite well for about a week. Hufflepuffs and Slytherins don’t share too many classes, and the ones they do share aren’t ones that both of them take anyway. There’s only been a few times that Jeno has had to dive behind statues or duck into alcoves because of the Slytherin walking down the same hallway. Thankfully his friends agree to cover for him too, giving excuses anytime Yangyang, Chenle, or Jaemin himself come around asking for him.
(“Honestly, I’m starting to get a little nervous lying to Yangyang. Last time I told him you were waxing your crystal ball and his eye started twitching. I’m being so serious, Jeno, it twitched!”
“Mark you can’t wax a crystal ball.”
“Well how was I supposed to know that?”)
He knew it wouldn’t last forever; what with the game between Slytherin and Hufflepuff coming up and the way Chenle had finally spotted his brunette head sitting amongst the blue and bronze population the day before, he just didn’t think it would end like this.
Truly, if Jeno had to visit the Slytherin common room ever again, it would be too soon. The stone is dark and mossy, and the room smells of an indoor swimming pool. The floor to ceiling windows showcase the murky water in the Great Lake and allow a view of the creatures that live within. Jeno can appreciate the novelty of it, but he still prefers his beanbags and comfy windows.
“What did you do to Jaemin?” Yangyang questions him, hands curled into his shirt.
Jeno, who had been walking down the corridor to the rarely used third floor bathroom, had been kidnapped by his two friends and pulled into a dark corner of the Slytherin common room under the spiral staircase where they tortured innocent Hufflepuff boys. That’s what Chenle had told him, at least.
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about!” Jeno throws his hands up to prove his honesty.
“Likely story, Lee. We send him off to practice a potion and next thing we hear he’s confessed his love for you, and then comes back all sullen and angry all week. Do you know how bad this is? What if he can’t get his head together and finish his article for the paper? What then, Jeno? WHAT THEN ?” Yangyang shakes Jeno with every question he asks.
“Easy, kitten. He’s going to have brain damage before he can give us any answers.” Chenle pops in, lazily twirling his wand between his fingers. Yangyang releases Jeno from his clutches and wipes down the nail indents in his shirt. “You’re right, you’re right. My bad.”
Chenle nods at them, “But really, what happened.”
It’s phrased as a demand and not a question, and somehow that’s scarier than the relentless throwdown Yangyang was putting him through before.
Jeno’s brain scrambles to come up with an honest answer that makes even a lick of sense. How does he tell his mortal enemies best friends that he just uncovered a six year long crush on said mortal enemy and accidentally outed it to the whole castle.
“I think I’ve been really dumb for a really long time.” He ends up saying, shoulders sagging with the weight of the week. Jeno is tired and confused and really doesn’t want to do any of this but he has to. He and Jaemin deserve to finally be honest with each other.
Chenle snorts, “I could’ve told you that years ago.”
“Rude.”
“True though,” Chenle flicks his bangs, “you and Jaemin need to get your shit sorted out. We’ve all seen this coming since Second year when he called you a ‘bloated toad carcass’ and you stared at him like the sun came out of his ass.”
“I‘ve never in my life looked at him like that.” Yangyang and Chenle share a conspiratory look and sigh. Yangyang places his hands on Jeno’s shoulders again, this time much more gentle.
“You did and you do, Jeno. Get over it already. You think Jaemin is the epitome of a snobby, uncaring Pure Blood asshole and he thinks you’re a dim witted Hufflepuff that takes everything for granted. You’re both wrong and I’m tired of watching two people strain so hard to not care about each other for no good reason.”
Yangyang’s words ring through the empty common room as Jeno tries to process what he’s learned in the rapid fire rant the Slytherin threw at him.‘Jaemin thinks you’re a dim witted Hufflepuff that takes everything for granted’ ‘You’re both wrong’ ‘-two people strain so hard to not care about each other-’
“That’s enough.”
Light steps carry down the stairs above them as Jaemin’s silhouette comes into view being Chenle and Yangyang. Jeno freezes at the sight of the black haired boy’s bloodshot eyes and pink nose.
“Have you been crying?” He asks before he can keep his mouth shut. Jaemin looks at him for a long moment, neutral and distant like Jeno is familiar with, before stepping off the last stair.
“Can you two go meddle somewhere else please.” He requests as he walks towards the arching windowsill looking into the eerie lake. A couple of iridescent, pearl sheened fish swim by, circling each other in some sort of odd dance. Chenle and Yangyang waste no time scuttling up the stairs and leaving Jeno to face whatever Jaemin has to say to him.
“You can’t like me.” Jaemin’s voice is louder than it should be in the echoing room. Jeno’s eyebrows shoot up.
“It’s a little late for that.”
“I mean it Jeno,” Jaemin turns to partially face him, “you can’t like me, and I can’t like you. That’s how this has to be.”
“How what has to be? What is this? Explain it to me, because I’m getting tired of being left in the dark about everything. I just spent six years convincing myself I hated you because you blew me off when I was eleven, and that everything you did after that was some plot to piss me off day after day,” Jeno rants as he walks to stand at the window next to Jaemin, “and what about you, huh? You spent those years doing what? Thinking I’m a lowlife mugglebo—“
“ No ,” Jaemin turns and Jeno can see the ripples of the water along his pale skin, “it was never about your blood or your family or anything near that, and the next time you accuse me of th-that bullshit you’ll find yourself missing a tongue.”
The room is quiet, save for the distant dripping sound that has plagued Jeno since he was dragged in. Jaemin rests his hands in fists on the stone and keeps his eyes locked onto Jeno’s mouth parted in surprise. When Jaemin speaks again it’s at a whisper, like the words burn his throat to say.
“It’s not your family, Jeno; it’s mine.”
“I’m gonna need more than a vague family fued to understand what the fuck is going through your mind, Jaemin.” Jaemin sighs and turns back to look out at the water.
“My parents are Purebloods. Old money, Old rules.”
“Okay?”
“Meaning, I can’t.. love, date, or marry a man. I have a family name to carry on.” It’s spoken robotically. Jeno gets the mental picture of a small Jaemin being sat down over and over again to have that ideaology drilled into him. Gentle hands, wide eyes, and a heavy burden on tiny shoulders.
Jeno’s chest collapses. The air drops and the stone walls feel compressive as he takes in what he’s heard. Jaemin’s been living the same lie as him; the one where they convince themselves they don’t care about the other, where they threw away their feelings to hold onto the one string of anger holding them together. Jeno had accepted the hatred, but Jaemin was simply playing a charade.
“You made me hate you so you didn’t have to care about me, because you live with a bunch of homophobic wizards.
“I- no- let me explain. I was rude to you in the boat on purpose, yes, it was my first night at Hogwarts and I had already broken my parents first rule ‘ don’t get distracted’ because of the boy in my boat with big brown eyes who wouldn’t stop asking so many questions.”
“I resent that.” Jeno interrupts. Jaemin’s mouth twitches up.
“So I was mean when I knew you just wanted a friend, but you stared too long and you were so warm and open and kind and I knew being around me would ruin everything warm and kind in you. So I closed it off for the both of us. I shut you out and everyday after that I let you think what you assumed of me,” He takes in a breath, ”My parents don’t care about me being gay, they only care about me carrying on the family tree. It isn’t really about bigotry, it’s about what I was born to do.”
“You don’t get to make choices for me.”
Jaemin jerks his head to Jeno, “What?”
Jeno stares at the eyelashes framing Jaemin’s wide eyes, his gaze full of hot iron.
“You don’t get to decide what I need. Not now, and especially not at eleven . I know we have different families and I’ll never understand what it’s like to have to carry on a Pureblood name, but you’ll never understand what it’s like to come into a whole new life and see real magic in the eyes of the pretty boy in your boat, and then get your feelings slammed into nothing.”
Jeno clenches his fist at the tears threatening to spill down Jaemin’s cheeks. He doesn’t want him to cry he just needs them to finally be honest with each other.
“I thought I wanted to fix whatever made you angry at the world, but I can’t fix that. No one can do that but you, and there’s nothing about you that needs to be fixed. You’re Jaemin Na, you’re a Slytherin that takes advanced potions even though you suck, and you like photography, and you hate when your friends mess up your hair, and you secretly really enjoy Quidditch- I’ve seen you cheering in the stands- and you’re loyal to a frustrating level. I know all of this because even when you pushed me away I watched you, I was noticed you, because I like you, you absolute idiot. I like the good parts of you and the not so good parts, like thinking I needed protection from you and your weird-ass Slytherin baby factory family! We can figure something out, Jaemin, and we can do that later, I just need you to focus on us right now.”
“So you.. still like me?” Jaemin’s voice cracks at the question. The tendrils of anger leave Jeno and in its place stand a buzzing warmth in his skin and a numbness in his feet as he stares at Jaemin and digests everything that’s happening to him. He’s spent years holding onto hate and bitter resentment for a boy he thought he knew everything about. The fight is gone from his bones when Jaemin’s eyes sparkle with tears and his cheeks are pink with surprise. There are no more words he could say that would clear up this mess they’ve made, so actions will have to do.
Jeno reaches Jaemin in a few long strides to place the pad on his hand along his cheek, fingers grazing the nape of Jaemin’s neck. Jeno’s thumb runs along his cheekbone and he looks around to catalog the curvature of the other boy’s lips and the delicate lashes that frame his heartbreaking eyes.
“Well you know what they say,” Jeno whispers, leaning down, “the line between love and hate is irritatingly thin.” And then Jeno Lee is kissing Jaemin Na.
*
The first thing Jeno notices is that Jaemin’s lips taste like honey. The kiss itself is gentle; just the soft molding of their lips, a swipe of tongue against Jaemin’s mouth which opens easily, and Jeno’s hands at the base of his jaw angling his head. Jaemin twists his hands into the fabric of Jeno’s sweater, not letting him move out of arm's reach.
“I like you too, if that wasn’t obvious.” Jaemin says breathlessly after they’ve broken apart. Jeno grins lopsided and raises an eyebrow.
“I'm feeling like you’re only saying that because I just gave you the best kiss of your life.”
“Oh is that what you were doing? I thought you were giving me a dental exam with your tongue.” Jaemin replies, like he isn’t still looking at Jeno’s mouth to go again.
“Oh shut up.”
“Make me.” Jaemin’s eyes sparkle when he really smiles, the kind of smile that looks like it hurts, and Jeno wonders how long he could’ve had this view if he had just pulled his head out of his ass. He leans down, eager to fulfill Jaemin’s demand, when there’s a scuffle at the top of the stairs.
“Nope nuh uh not again. I let you two canoodle once, but Jaemin has to be up early to interview the frog choir and I fully intend on erasing the last five minutes from my memory before bed, thank you!” Yangyang’s voice rings out shrilly.
“Shhhh let them have their moment Yang; it’s cute. Plus, how long have we been trying to make this happen, hm?” Chenle questions as he leans on the railing.
“I’d rather marry a hippogriff than ever see that again.”
“And you probably will since no one else wants to take one for the team.”
“Now what the fu—“
Jaemin rolls his eyes, “I think it’s too late to back out now.”
Jeno looks from the two Slytherins bickering above them to Jaemin’s pink cheeks. Relief washes over him at the realization that Jaemin isn’t pushing him away at the intrusion of his friends. They have a lot to talk about, to work through, but for now they only need each other in watery glow of the dark common room.
“Are you kidding? I’m friends with Donghyuck and Mark, this is nothing. Besides,” He murmurs, pecking the other boys lips quickly before Yangyang could complain, “I’ve always been in this for the long haul.”