Chapter Text
The police told them she died in a car accident.
Mum's car was crossing the intersection in the middle of the night, and another car driven by a drunk man– running at the highest speed crashed right into her, killing all occupants in both vehicles instantly. There was no foul play, they said, no ill intention. It was nothing more than a tragic accident.
Except for the fact that Mum would rather take a taxi than drive alone in the middle of the night.
Except for the fact that Mum’s body did not have even the slightest scar from the accident, nor did the drunk driver and his wife.
Hoseok was a week short of his fourth birthday, Jiwoo was seven years old. He couldn’t remember much from earlier that year, except Mum had grown dark circles around her eyes since Christmas, and her smile—the only thing he could remember of her—had dissipated and turned into frowns of worry and fear.
Mum had befriended a woman called Emmeline Vance. She was a tall, white woman with sharp, gray eyes that seemed to soften whenever they landed on Hoseok and Jiwoo. Just like with his mother, Hoseok didn’t remember much of Aunt Emmy other than the fact that she liked to bring him the oddest sweet treats, and that she and Mum always made sure that they’d meet each other at least twice a year to catch up, she’d say. Both of them had been the best of friends when they went to school in Scotland.
Until one day, a month before Hoseok’s birthday, he saw Mum crying as she sat at the bottom of the stairs, Appa comforting her, she was sobbing into his shoulders.
They broke away the moment they realized their youngest son was watching. Hoseok remembered the hesitance in Appa’s eyes; he shared a long, silent conversation with Mum before she finally composed herself, giving Hoseok a smile he had etched into every corner of his brain. Only this time, her smile did not reach her eyes.
“Something has happened to Aunt Emmy, darling,” Mum said, taking Hoseok’s chubby hands and putting him on her lap. “She…” Mum’s voice trembled, and Dad’s hands immediately gripped her shoulders. “She has gone to heaven.”
Hoseok frowned, and then he thought of their dog that they had buried last summer. He was very old, older than Hoseok and Jiwoo. Sometimes his sister joked that he was their grandad. “Heaven? Just like Mickey?”
Mum choked out a laugh at Hoseok’s question, then she nodded, letting out another sob as she pressed kisses upon his head.
"Don’t cry, Mummy," Hoseok said gently, patting her cheeks with his small palms. "You can eat all my sweets I saved from Aunt Emmy if you want."
"Oh, my darling," Mum wept into his hair, tightening her arms around him. "You are my sun, do you know that, Hoseok?" Her hands cradled his face, and Hoseok didn’t really know what she meant, but he reckoned he needed to be a good boy and agreed to whatever she said that day, so he nodded.
"You made my days brighter when they are shrouded by the darkest clouds, baby," she said, and it was the last words he could remember from her.
Hoseok could not recall the day she had left home. He had woken up one day, with Mum gone, and Appa looking ever so forlorn and lost. He told him that she had to go to Aunt Emmy’s house to sort out her will. He didn’t think it was out of the ordinary until Appa doubled the locks in their house. Until Appa drove Jiwoo to school on his own instead of letting her take the bus. Since Mum’s departure, Appa never left Hoseok and Jiwoo out of his sight. Gone was the carefree, humorous Bomseok Jung everyone had come to know; he had turned into a paranoid man, acting as if he was seconds away from being hunted. Hoseok and Jiwoo were confined to their house; playdates with the neighborhood kids had become impossible.
Then the police came with their news. Then Appa and Jiwoo wouldn’t stop crying even after Hoseok’s birthday came and passed. Then the laughter that had filled the nooks and crannies of their house died along with Mum too.
Hoseok had cried. Of course, he had. He loved his father and sister very much, but Mum was Mum . She was the reason why every morning Appa, Jiwoo, and Hoseok were running down the stairs with giggles and songs humming from their lips, all three in sync preparing the table as she cooked their breakfast. Mum was the reason why schools and work never seemed that much of a burden because she was always there at home waiting for them.
Hoseok didn’t really understand what Mum meant when she called him her sun because, to him, she was the sun. She was his sun, as well as Jiwoo’s and Appa’s. Mum was the one who made everything a little bit better. Hoseok was terrified of hurricanes and thunder, but Mum’s soothing words had always felt like a promise that the sun would show up the day after and make everything better.
For the next year, it felt as if all the sunlight had been sucked away from their house. Everything just felt so gloomy and grim. Appa had stopped being silly, Jiwoo was no longer the chatterbox Mum used to call her; she only spoke when spoken to. Hoseok had stopped bringing the drawings he did in school home, stopped reciting the dance routines he learned at school in front of his father. Appa’s forced smile felt worse than Mum’s nonexistent beams.
Until one day, a couple of months after Hoseok’s birthday, two young men dressed in long robes came knocking on their door. The men were tall, so tall that even Appa had to look up when they talked to him. The one with a pale white face, blue eyes, and red hair introduced himself as Ron Weasley; his partner was called Dean Thomas, dark-skinned, with short hair and the most handsome face Hoseok had ever seen. Hoseok thought he should belong in the commercials he’d seen on the telly.
Appa had assumed that they were some salesmen trying to sell the new oven toaster that had been making the local housewives mad, but when Appa told them he was not interested in buying another oven toaster, the red-headed man, Mr. Weasley, stared at Appa in confusion and asked what an oven toaster was.
Mr. Thomas hid his laugh with a cough, giving Mr. Weasley a pointed look as he politely asked Appa’s permission to sit on the couch, which Appa reluctantly gave.
“We are here to give you this,” said Mr. Weasley gently, pulling out a wooden box with a small carving of a badger on the surface, painted in gold and black. “It is given by the ministry to honor Mrs. Mari Jung.”
Hoseok felt his heart jolt at the mention of his mother’s name, Jiwoo stiffened beside him, while Appa’s frown reached his head.
“The Ministry?” Appa asked, “Ministry of what exactly? My wife was a stay-at-home mother, she never worked for the government.”
Mr. Weasley turned his head towards Mr. Thomas, they shared a long confused look before Mr. Weasley glanced back at Appa. “Forgive me, Mr. Jung,” he started, leaning forward, “Do you know which school your wife went to when she was in her teens?”
“She went to school in Scotland,” Appa answered, “I think she went to some fancy boarding school-”
“Has she ever told you what it was called?”
“The school?” Appa asked, shaking his head, “No… I suppose maybe she had? But I couldn’t recall, I’m sorry–” he went still on his seat, gesturing at the box, “I don’t understand all this, how do you even know my wife?”
“We don’t know your wife, Sir,” Mr. Thomas said regretfully, “But we’re here under the order by the Ministry to give the families of the victims of the wars closure and to honor the fallen-”
“ What ?”
It was Jiwoo who gasped, she’s gawking at the men before turning to Appa, “What are they talking about, Appa?”
Appa shot up to his feet, “Get out,” he hissed at the men, “Do you think this is funny?” he glared at them, there’s a tremble in his voice that Hoseok had come to familiarize himself with since Mum had died. “Have we not suffered enough? And now you want to make fun out of our grief?!”
Mr. Weasley remained seated and composed, but his striking blue eyes are now trained onto Appa. “Your wife’s name was Mari Yoon,” he began, “she graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the year of 1988, her house was Hufflepuff, she was a prefect and a member of the school’s choir-”
Appa yanked the man by the collar of his shirt, growling, “What the fuck are you talking about, you bastard-”
Hoseok saw Mr. Weasley pull out a stick from his pocket, his friend following suit, only he aimed it at Appa, and the most peculiar thing happened when Mr. Weasley swung his hand and the lights from the chandelier above them suddenly went on. Breathes were all wrenched from Appa, Jiwoo and Hoseok’s throats, snapping their heads towards the chandelier whose switch was left untended meters away from where everyone was located.
Mr. Weasley waved the stick in his hand again and now the pillows were floating. Hoseok felt Jiwoo’s palm around his wrist, pulling him closer to her as she took a couple of steps back away from their strange guests.
“Appa!” she cried, mortified at the sight of floating objects surrounding them, “What are they doing?!”
“I think your wife has kept a very important part of her life away from you and your children, Mr. Jung,” Mr. Thomas said, his voice soft even though he still looked alarmed. “And for the sake of your children,” he shifted his eyes towards Jiwoo and Hoseok, smiling at them reassuringly. “We have to tell you everything you need to know about Mari,”
“Can you promise us to be civil, Sir?” Mr. Weasley swung the stick inside his hand again and with that all the flying objects landed safely at where they were supposed to be, Hoseok still couldn’t breathe properly.
Appa visibly gulped, letting go of the tall man before extending his arm towards Jiwoo, signaling her to sit next to him, his hand across them like a shield.
Silence hung in the air, Appa seemed to have lost for words, the strange men took it as a promise agreed.
Hoseok thought that he was in a dream as he listened to men speak. They had called themselves wizards, the sticks in their hands as wands. Apparently they were Aurors, kind of like the police in the wizarding world and they had been tasked by the Minister of Magic to trace down all the fallen wizards and witches who died during the war.
They had called Mum a victim. They said that Mum was a muggle-born, a witch who came from non-magic parents. The war happened because a dark wizard wanted to rid the wizarding world of people like Mum—people whose blood wasn’t pure, whose blood was tainted, people who were not supposed to have magic.
Then they called Mum a hero.
They said that Mum had been on the run the moment she found out her best friend had died protecting her identity from being discovered by the Ministry, which used to be under the control of that dark wizard. He had used the registry of muggle-borns from Mum’s school, Hogwarts, to track them down one by one and kill them. Aunt Emmy had died for Mum, and Mum had run to protect her own children and husband from being discovered by the dark wizard’s followers, called the Death Eaters.
There was no car accident.
The drunk driver, who was accused of crashing Mum– and his wife, were fellow muggle-borns who were also on the run. Mum had organized a group of muggle-born witches and wizards and formed a plan to escape to Mongolia. But along the way, they were discovered and had to disperse. Mum had used herself as bait to distract the Death Eaters from following the other group, which consisted mainly of teenagers and young children.
They caught her. (Later, Appa would tell Hoseok that Mum had been tortured for information about the whereabouts of the other children, but she would not waver.) And then they killed her.
"Without her," Mr. Weasley said, opening the box with a tap from his wand, "a generation of Muggleborns would've been murdered."
A plaque rose from the box; it hovered above the table, and Hoseok heard Jiwoo let out a strangled cry. There was a portrait of a girl with dark, wavy hair, draped in a school uniform with yellow and black ties. On her breast pocket was the same logo Hoseok had seen carved into the box. The girl moved in the portrait; she gave a radiant grin and then twirled, laughing when she landed on her feet, waving and smiling so wide it felt as if Hoseok was staring right into the sun.
Appa let out a sob. "Mari…" he whispered, his finger tracing the plaque in front of his face. "Oh, my Mari…"
Below Mum’s portrait, engraved on the plaque: Mari Jung, née Yoon. 1965-1998. A wife, mother, and protector.
"Your mother was not a victim of an accident," Mr. Thomas told Hoseok and Jiwoo. "She was a victim of the vilest cruelty and evil, but she was also a hero, and you deserve to know who she really was, even the part that she had shielded from you."
"But why would she hide this from us?" Appa asked, his voice low, almost like a whisper. "Why didn’t she...?"
"I didn’t know my father," Mr. Thomas admitted, his voice deep as it resonated through the living room. "I thought I was a muggle-born too; my mum is non-magic and so is my stepfather. I did not grow up in this world. I was on the run too when the war happened. Later, I found out that my father was a wizard and he had died fighting the Death Eaters. I thought he had left to abandon us, but he left to protect us. He knew that any slight connection to us would put a target on our heads." Then he shifted his gaze towards Appa. "I don’t know your wife, Mr. Jung, but from how she died, I can perfectly assume she made this decision purely for the safety of her husband and children. I know it must have been so painful for her to hide a part of herself from all of you. I hope you won’t resent her for it."
-
Everything has changed since then.
It was as if…. As if the sun had been returned to their home.
Appa no longer spent his days silently mourning, he had soaked up every information he could find about Mum’s life as a witch, holding onto them tight. Hoseok knew that the lingering gaze that would be kept a little too long on Mum’s moving portrait meant that Appa would sometimes wonder why Mum hid such an important part of her life from her own husband and children.
But then Appa’s eyes would fall onto the words written underneath her portrait. A wife, mother and protector. Hoseok saw how Appa would murmur those words over and over again, like a chant, as if he was trying to remind himself that those were the exact answers behind her secrets.
Hoseok assumed that the chant had worked because Appa’s smiles had finally reached his eyes. When he laughed, he shook with his body and Hoseok knew that he was genuinely laughing. Appa was finally happy simply because he was, not because he wanted his children to think he was.
Jiwoo, like Hoseok, had clung onto Mum’s life as a witch like the sunflowers clinging to the sunlight. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Thomas had told them that they too would be going to Mum’s magic school once September comes when they turn eleven!
Appa had apprehensions, of course, but the tall Aurors reassured him that the war was over and that it was perfectly safe for children of Jiwoo and Hoseok’s blood heritage to come.
Mr. Thomas helped gather all the information he could find from Mum’s years in Hogwarts. On that year’s Christmas, the Jungs had been given an album, it was all filled with moving portraits of where Mum was. There was one when Mum was beaming as she showed off her prefect badge to the camera, of Mum dancing with Aunt Emmy and some boy at a school ball, Mum leading the Hogwarts choir…
“I received that portrait from Professor Flitwick,” Mr. Thomas said, “He said that she was very bright because she excelled at Charms– that’s a subject he teaches, you will learn it too once you enroll–and also because she was bright, you know she was…” the older man scrunched his face, probably wracking his brain to find the right words for the children.
“Like the sun?” Hoseok eagerly asked, his eyes gleaming, “Because Mum was bright like the sun to me,”
Mr. Thomas laughed, “Yes, that’s what Flitwick said,” he ruffled Hoseok’s hair fondly, ”she was always so happy, kind, and friendly. He said that your mother was elected as the choir captain because everyone adored her, sometimes she would randomly dance in the middle of a choir practice to give people a laugh.”
“Yeah, that’s Mum,” Jiwoo giggled, grinning from ear to ear. “Hoseok would sometimes do it too whenever Appa is brooding, he could move his arms like a robot. You know what a robot is, don’t you Mr. Thomas? It’s super hilarious!” Then she nudged at her little brother, urging him proudly “Come on, Seokki, show him!”
Hoseok felt his cheeks warm up, but peered over at Mr. Thomas, who looked at him expectantly, “Oh! Can I see it?”
“Yeah!”, Hoseok nodded and got on his feet, “Ready?”
-
The two years between Jiwoo’s enrollment and his own was an awful period of waiting for Hoseok. He both anticipated and dreaded every letter Jiwoo sent home, he couldn’t wait to hear all the details and adventures from her year in Hogwarts and well, Hoseok really could not wait. When she told him she got sorted into Ravenclaw, he wanted to be there and get sorted with her. When she became a reserve seeker for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team he wanted to join her, never mind the fact that the thought of flying above the air with no protection whatsoever made his feet jittered in fear! Everything Jiwoo did in Hogwarts, Hoseok wanted to do it! The past two years were almost agonizing, it felt as if he was waiting for decades. There was nothing that Hoseok wanted more than to be part of the world that had raised his mother.
Finally, the day came. And today, Hoseok got on the train early. Appa always taught him about the importance of punctuality, but this had nothing to do with any of it. Hoseok was so eager, so excited, so impatient to board the ride that he practically dragged Jiwoo to a compartment.
“You know I can’t stay here, right?” Jiwoo huffed as she plopped down on the red leather seat.
“What?” Hoseok frowned, “Why?”
“Well because my friends are waiting for me in the next car,” replied Jiwoo reasonably, glancing at the large window to wave at Appa, signaling Hoseok to do the same. “Besides, you need to make friends, and the best way to do it is to get stuck inside a compartment for hours with your fellow first years”
Hoseok grimaced in response, turning to the window, and gave Appa his best, widest smile. Appa was patting the corner of his eyes with a handkerchief. Soojung, Hoseok’s stepmother, had her hand on his chest, trying to soothe her husband’s tears. They had met each other a couple of months before Jiwoo went to Hogwarts, Soojung was Appa’s classmate back in Junior High School, and they reunited when she was working for the South Korean Embassy in the UK. Jiwoo and Hoseok had been very welcoming towards her, after all, Soojung was very kind and made Appa very happy, though they were a little worried that she wouldn’t understand and be accepting of their… condition.
But all of those had been wiped out when Jiwoo’s letter arrived and Soojung revealed that her nephew in Gwangju enrolled in the Korean Institution of Magic. Just like Hoseok’s Mum, he was a Muggleborn too. To be quite honest, Hoseok was more surprised that there were wizards and witches in other countries too, while Jiwoo was simply happy that Appa wouldn’t be left alone for five years when both she and Hoseok were at Hogwarts.
The train blew its whistle and the pair of siblings craned their heads out of the window, bidding the last goodbyes to their father and stepmother. Once they could no longer see them, Jiwoo got up from her seat, gathering her things. She stared at Hoseok pointedly.
“I will smack you upside down if you ever remind me of saying this,” said Jiwoo, “But you are a great kid, Seokkie, you are very kind and friendly. I know you will make loads of friends, don’t be afraid to be yourself, okay?”
Hoseok pouted, giving her his best puppy eyes, but Jiwoo would not budge. She replied to him with a chuckle and a pat on his head, “I’ll see you at the sorting ceremony, Seokkie” and with that Jiwoo left his compartment to find her friends.
Not even a minute of Hoseok trying to sink into his surroundings, reeling into the fact that he finally got to be here, on the train to Hogwarts, to the place that still often felt unreal, the compartment was slammed open– a girl with short dark hair peered inside.
“Oh, I was hoping this one would be empty,” the girl groaned dramatically as if it was Hoseok’s fault for being here earlier. “Mind if I sit here?” she asked, entering the compartment before Hoseok could even answer.
“Er, sure”
“Thank you” The girl huffed, sitting on Jiwoo’s previous spot. She spent a good minute staring at him before she extended her hand, “I’m Raina,”
Hoseok cleared his throat and shook her hand gingerly, he cringed when he realized that his hands had been sweating, but Raina seemed to not be bothered by it. “I’m Hoseok”
The girl nodded, smiling politely. “Well, Hoseok,” she said, rummaging for something in her bag before pulling them out one by one. Candies after candies and snacks were taken from the bag that looked too tiny to be able to carry all of the items. Hoseok blinked, while the girl kept moving out the contents from the tiny bag nonchalantly. “Do you want some chocolate frogs?”
“How’d you do that…” Hoseok marveled, his eyes wide as saucers, “That bag is tiny, it can’t possibly fit all those!” he said, pointing to the pile of sweets on Raina’s lap.
“The inside is charmed with an extension spell,” she answered matter-of-factly, then her eyebrows furrowed, “Wait, are you a muggle-born? Are you not used to magical objects?”
Hoseok leaned back to his seat, “I suppose I am?” he said, unsure, “My mum was a muggle-born, and my dad is a muggle, so that makes me a muggle-”
“Oh, no, silly,” Raina giggled, waving her hand. “That means you’re a half-blood! Your dad is a muggle and your mum was-”
She stopped her sentence, “Oh,” she said, cheeks turning red, “I’m sorry, Hoseok, I didn’t mean-”
“It’s okay,” Hoseok said hurriedly, “It’s been so long and I’m no longer sad or anything you know,”
Raina nodded, clearing her throat, “Yeah, urm, as I was saying, if your dad is a muggle and your mum was a muggle-born that makes you a half-blood, not a muggle-born since one of your parents was a witch,” then worry flashed across her eyes, “N-not that it matters, of course! Nobody cares about blood status these days. Not that they ever should,”
Hoseok hummed, forcing himself to smile. There’s a pang inside his chest that wanted to let her know that he knew what she was referring to, but if he did then he would be going to a place that he did not ever want to visit again. Hogwarts was about getting to know Mum’s world, it was about becoming closer to her, to the Mum who had been full of life and laughter. It should not be about anything else.
“Can I have some of your chocolate frogs?” he finally asked, smiling earnestly when Raina handed him one, “I hope I get the Ron Weasley card,” he grinned, carefully opening the package, “I’ve met him, you know-”
“Really!” Raina exclaimed, almost jumping from her seat.
Hoseok paused, the frog dangling in front of his lips, “At Diagon Alley,” he quickly said, which was not technically a lie, Jiwoo took Appa and him to the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes when they were shopping for Hoseok’s school supplies this year. “He helped showed Appa– that’s my dad– around, he was really funny and nice, gave my sister and me free stuff each,”
“You’re so lucky,” Rania moaned petulantly, “It’s almost impossible to meet them so casually inside their shops, my mum said they’re very busy businessmen who always travel around,”
“I guess I am lucky,” Hoseok smiled, taking a bite of chocolate. Choosing to disclose the fact that Mr. Weasley had kept in touch with his family since he bore the news of his mum’s death seven years ago.
-
Jiwoo did not lie when she told Hoseok that he would have no trouble making friends. He and Rania were practically attached at the hips, getting sorted into the same house meant that Hoseok had been guaranteed a long-time friend through his Hogwarts years. Rania was eager to know everything about the muggle world even to the weirdest and most bizarre questions that Hoseok himself had never thought about, he was happy to oblige though– because in return she’d answer every question he had about Hogwarts.
Even his brief conversation with Namjoon at the train was enough to last them a friendship despite them not sharing the same dormitories. Classes he shared with Gryffindors were the best because Hoseok got to sit next to Namjoon, who was probably the smartest kid in their year. Everything came so easy for Namjoon, he excelled in every subject there was. Well, except for the flying lessons, those were the only times when Namjoon was bested by someone else, a Ravenclaw named Yoongi.
Honestly, Hoseok did not know how he and Yoongi managed to be friends. The thing was, Hoseok knew that he was very friendly. He knew that it was easy for him to make friends, even those he considered his acquaintances would call him their mates,not that Hoseok would never correct them, of course, he liked knowing that people felt comfortable with him to consider friendship.
Yoongi, though, did not seem to care about him at all. Hoseok tried to make small talk with him and only replied with curt answers, and well, he did not want to annoy the boy any further than he probably had so Hoseok chose to keep his distance. For a couple of weeks, Hoseok was pretty sure that Yoongi did not like him for even a bit.
Did it bother him? Of course, it did. Hoseok did not just come to Hogwarts to learn about magic, he came here to make friends! To live in the world that his mother used to belong to, and that definitely included blending in with as many as magical folks there were. Hoseok was very determined to befriend at least one person from each house, and if Seokjin– someone that everyone found intimidating due to him being a Slytherin and a veela– had asked for Hoseok to sit with him every time their houses shared a class, there was something that he had done to offend Yoongi somehow.
Hoseok confronted him on their way back from Transfiguration class, he even apologized to Yoongi for whatever it was that he’d done that made him dislike him, but he was only met with a roll of his eyes.
Yoongi did not even bother to stop and listen to him. Hoseok returned to his dorm with a pang on his chest that lasted until supper.
-
Hoseok tried very hard not to let the entire debacle surrounding Yoongi bother him. It wasn’t easy seeing that he was on greeting terms with the rest of the Ravenclaw students but one person. He even skipped past Malcolm’s seat at History class because the other boy was sitting next to Yoongi, which caused Malcolm to think he had done something wrong to offend Hoseok because they always said hi to each other before the classes started.
The only thing that managed to take his focus off Yoongi was himself struggling in Charms, which was in a way, a worse problem to have than being disliked by some random kid whom Hoseok barely ever interacted with. This was the subject that his Mum excelled the most, even old Professor Flitwick recognized Hoseok from his first day! The utter embarrassment that he felt when he struggled in the same class that his mother was remembered so fondly due to her exceptional skills, Professor Flitwick must have been wondering if Hoseok was truly her son or not.
“You should not be so hard on yourself, Hobi,” Seokjin calmly said, his hand wrapped around Hoseok’s wrist, whose wand was inches away from hitting Mum’s box. Angry hot tears were pooling in Hoseok’s eyes, no matter how hard he tried to concentrate and utter the spell correctly, the box wouldn’t open with the sound of music.
“I’ve been practicing for the past week every day before sleep,” Hoseok heaved, leaning back against the cold marbled wall of the empty hallway, “Everyone but me managed to do it today, I keep struggling with every subject we have-”
“Don’t beat yourself up too much,” Seokjin told him gently, patting his shoulder, his dulcet voice echoing through the corridor. “We’re barely a month into our school year, and you did not grow up in a magical household, maybe you just need more time to adjust to magic.”
“Namjoon did not grow up surrounded by magic too,” Hoseok sniffled to his sleeves, using them to wipe his angry, pathetic tears, “yet everything comes easy to him, maybe I am just stupid,” he huffed indignantly.
“You are not,” Seokjin jibed in with his infamous glare, this was the first time Hoseok was the receiving end of it, “Don’t call yourself that,” the veela added, softer this time, “Look, we are still learning, it is perfectly okay to struggle and take time to master a spell-”
“ OI, KIM!”
The sound of a girl yelling Seokjin’s name reverberated through the hall, making both boys jolt in surprise, “We are late for History of Magic class!” she shouted from behind the tapestry, only half of her body showing, “Come run or Binns will take points from our house!”
Seokjin looked at Hoseok apologetically as he gathered all his books and wand from the floor, “I’ll sit with you at supper, alright?” he said, getting up before sprinting towards his housemate, staring at him pointedly, “Don’t be so hard on yourself, take some break since you have free period, Hobi!”
Hoseok could only wave weakly at his friend before the silence of the hall crawled onto his ears and taunted him with the lack of melodies in the room. He knew that Seokjin got a point, but being here in Hogwarts, in a place that his mother used to be, learning a subject that his mother used to thrive in and not being able to follow her footsteps just felt so, so painful. Would Mum be disappointed if he did not excel here like she did?
Something, ugly and horrifying filled his chest. What if she was looking over him from heaven and embarrassed by his nonexistent skills in Charms?
“It will never work if you cast the spell while angry”
A deep, low voice echoed through the other end of the hall, making Hoseok sit up straight, scrambling to fetch his wand that he’d thrown away after another fit of frustration, he could feel his cheeks go in flame, he thought this corridor was deserted.
“Music is shooting,” Yoongi said as he walked towards Hoseok, “it is supposed to calm you, to make you feel at peace when you hear it or when you play it, anger and music don’t go well together,”
“Why are you helping me?” Hoseok asked, peering up at the boy who was now standing in front of him, Mum’s music box lying on the floor in between them, “I thought you didn’t like me,” he mumbled.
“I don’t not like you,” Yoongi answered defensively, “You’re just-” he sighed, “You’re just so… friendly,”
Hoseok furrowed his eyebrow, staring up at the other boy in disbelief, “You said that as if it is a bad thing,”
“It is if you don’t mean it”
“What?” Hoseok gaped, feeling the blood rushing through his ears, “That’s– that is so mean!” Yoongi didn’t even know him, he didn’t even try to get to know him and he already accused him of being…being fake?!
“I’m sorry alright?” the Ravenclaw said hurriedly, his face turning red as he shifted on his feet awkwardly, “I shouldn’t have thought that you were…” brows meeting as he cringed, “ look, if the veela wants to be friends with you when all he does is glare at other people, there is must something genuine in you-”
“This doesn’t sound like an apology at all-”
“-I’m sorry if I judged you wrong,”
“I don’t think I want to,” Hoseok retorted, a little too blunt for his own liking.
Yoongi winced, pulling at his collar, “I’m sorry,” he repeated, sounding a lot more dejected than before. “I really am sorry, alright? It’s just– I don’t enjoy being here, you know? And you just look so happy and excited every time I see you and I think it makes everything even more frustrating for me because I really don’t think Hogwarts and magic are for me even though my entire family is of magic and I think I don’t want to be angry at myself so I chose to be angry at you instead.”
“That is very mean,” Hoseok blurted out.
Yoongi turned even redder, “I know,” he muttered under his breath, plopping onto the floor until they were facing one other.
“And kind of selfish”
The boy cringed, “I know”
“But you’re also eleven, so…”
Yoongi peered up hopefully at him, “So…”
Hoseok shrugged, not seeing any point in holding a grudge towards Yoongi. “Apology accepted, I guess”
“Thank you,” Yoongi said, smiling in relief, but Hoseok found it hard to return the smile with the way Mum’s box and his wand seemed to be glaring at him.
Yoongi trained his eyes on him for a little too long than Hoseok would have liked, he bit his lips and glowered at the wooden box across him. Mouth curling and hand gripping his wand tight, ready to utter the spell for a hundredth time today-
“You can’t do it while angry,” Yoongi reminded him again, “You play the melodies in your head when you cast the spell, you have to do it when you’re calm,”
“Are you helping me?”
“Yes?” Yoongi said, “Do you want me to?”
“Are you doing this because you feel guilty?”
“No- well,” Yoongi rubbed the back of his head, grimacing, “Yes”
Hoseok squinted, “Can you even do the spell?”
Yoongi nodded.
“Prove it”
Yoongi rolled his eyes, shaking his head, but he quickly pulled out a golden old pocket watch from his robe when Hoseok replied to him with a glare, dangling it with his left hand, while his right clenched around his wand. Yoongi stared at Hoseok pointedly, before closing his eyes, and suddenly he looked almost… serene, like someone whose mind was a world away, his wand tapping the object three times as he uttered the incantation, “ Cantante vocem mamea”
A gentle tune echoed through the hall as the watch rose in the air, flying around as if it was dancing with its string. Hoseok’s breath hitched in his throat.
“There,” Yoongi beamed, chest protruding with pride.
“So I have to hum a tune in my head?”
“Yes,” Yoongi nodded, grabbing the watch with his hand, tapping it again three times before slipping it back into his robes, “Otherwise the melodies won’t come alive, that’s why you cannot be angry when you do it,”
Hoseok pursed his lips, eyes still glued onto the box. The problem, he realized, wasn’t only about his current frustration but also the fact that Hoseok didn’t know which tune he should play inside his head. The melodies that Yoongi’s enchanted sounded like those classical music the ballet students at his former school used to dance to, and well, Hoseok found it so boring. He didn’t have any tune like Yoongi that he remembered and liked.
“I don’t remember any melodies like yours,” he confessed, pouting, sagging back to the wall.
“I think it can be about any song,” Yoongi said, “You just have to repeat what you can remember”
Hoseok closed his eyes, trying to reminisce about every dance class he was in, but all he crossed his mind were the moves, not the music. A whimper escaped from his lips, his hands clenching around the wand. This should not be so hard, right?
“Relax,” Yoongi reminded, “You have to be calm when you do this,”
“I’m trying,” Hoseok whined, inhaling deeply, loosening his grip. He had probably heard thousands of songs in his eleven years of life, from the songs inside the grocery stores, the bus, the shopping centers, the songs in his dance classes! But why did none of them stick inside his head now? He always sang along with Jiwoo whenever Appa told them to go to the market to buy, or at times when they went on a road trip to Yorkshire with Soojung, or when Mum would take him to dance in front of the television and sing to…
Something when alive inside Hoseok’s chest, drumming through his ears, oh how he remembered how Mum used to perch him on top of her shoulders, singing this song so loud and how Appa would tease her that she sounded off from the beat, Jiwoo being carried on his back. It was the last summer they spent together and the lemon trees were blooming in the little garden Mum had grown from their small rooftop.
Hoseok took another, shuddering deep breath, and released it softly under his breath, the melody audible only to him, I wonder how, I wonder why, yesterday, you told me 'bout the blue, blue sky, and all that I can see is just a yellow lemon tree…
“That’s good, Hoseok,” Yoongi said encouragingly, “Focus on the melodies,”
I'm turnin' my head up and down, I'm turnin', turnin', turnin', turnin', turnin' around and all that I can see is just a yellow lemon tree… It was like the television had been turned on inside his brain, Hoseok could feel his feet began to tap into the beat, his left fingers drumming against his knees, Mum really could not sing… but somehow the four of them would always dance to her singing, her silliness was always so contagious…
Hoseok tapped the box three times, “Cantante vocem mamea”
The box lay still for the longest three seconds in Hoseok life until the lip began to shake, and the song… Mum’s song hummed from inside, the tune got louder as the box opened itself and just like it did when Hoseok first learned what actually with his mother, he saw her portrait flew until it hovered above the floor, Mum’s face just inches away from Hoseok’s eyes, her movement synchronizing with the beat, it seemed as if she was dancing to it, beaming to her son who could only know her from the tales of others.
A sob escaped from his chest, and suddenly it became so much harder to breathe. Hoseok heaved as tears spilled from his eyes, blurring his vision.
“Oh I know this song!” Yoongi hummed, “I can play it with my piano, too bad they don’t allow first years to join the choir, I would love to play the instruments…”
Someone let out a gasp, but all grasp that Hoseok had of his surroundings had disappeared, he did not who had done it-
“Hoseok?” his sleeves were tugged, “Hey, are you alright?”
Hoseok blinked, more tears fell across his cheeks. He did not realize his hands were shaking until Yoongi held them firm in his palms.
“You’ve done it,” he said gently, giving Hoseok’s hand a squeeze, “See?” he wriggled his shoulders, “The box is playing the music! I know this song, it’s the Lemon Tree, isn’t it?” Yoongi swung Hoseok’s arm, “Eomma and I dance to it all the time, it's the only muggle song she likes-”
Hoseok wrenched his hand from Yoongi, burrowing his head towards the walls until his back was turned towards the other boy. He didn't know what had come over him, but he couldn’t stop his body from shaking, his eyes from crying, he had never been like this, not since…
“ Oh,” he heard Yoongi mutter after a lengthy confusing pause, followed by a swishing sound from his wand, and then the music stopped abruptly and the sound of the box’s lid closing bounced off the corridor. Silence engulfed them, “You’re alright… inhaling from your mouth,” Yoongi advised, crawling until he sat next to Hoseok, his hand awkwardly patting his back. “Let it out gently…. it’s fine if you want to cry though…”
Hoseok followed Yoongi’s instruction until his shuddering breaths subdued into small hiccups, wiping his tear-stained face with the edge of his robes, grateful that he had no more class after this. It was embarrassing enough that Yoongi saw him cry, Hoseok didn’t know what he’d do if the entire school had to witness it.
“I’m sorry,” He squeaked apologetically, refusing to meet Yoongi’s eyes, “Sorry”
“Don’t apologize,” the other boy said, still staring at Hoseok intently. “It’s… she’s your mother, isn’t she?”
Hoseok nodded, snivelling.
“You look like her,” Yoongi commented honestly, “She’s…urm,” he cleared his throat, “She was very pretty,”
“Yeah,” Hoseok choked out, glancing at the other, giving him a weak smile, “She was,”
Another silence hung over them, but it was not deafening like before. Yoongi seemed lost in his thoughts while Hoseok tried to calm himself down as the minutes passed.
“She used to…” Hoseok began, his throat felt less constricting than before, “She used to call me her sun,”
Yoongi turned his head, gazing at him once more.
“She said she loved how I am always so cheerful, that I always knew how to make her smile, my sister told me that Mum always reminded her that making friends is just as important as having good grades and that if we can be friendly towards others there is no reason that we shouldn’t,” he mumbled, he wouldn’t think that Yoongi was listening to him had it been not from the way the other boy shifted his body until he was completely facing Hoseok.
“I am so sorry, Hoseok,” Yoongi said earnestly, he sounded almost broken as if he was ashamed.
“You don’t need to apologize again,” Hoseok looked up, “I told you, I accept your apology”
“I still shouldn’t have judged you so harshly-”
“You talk like an old chap, Yoongi,” Hoseok cut him off, the corner of his lips curled, “You’re eleven,”
Yoongi looked equally abashed and mortified at the insult, but then his eyes softened, coughing dramatically. “Well the thing about age, dearest child,” he put his hand underneath his chin, stroking an imaginary long beard which earned another giggle from Hoseok, “you will gain more wisdom the older you get.”
Hoseok let out almost an inhumane snort that got Yoongi to bark out a laugh in response, his eyes disappearing as he smiled. Hoseok felt something warm spread through his chest, it felt a lot lighter than before, too, laughed, following Yoongi’s cackle until they both forgot what they were laughing about in the first place.
-
Two weeks later, when Professor Flitwick lined the students up in the classroom for the final practice, Hoseok managed to make the box sing on his first try. He had rehearsed this spell nine times with Yoongi since that day he began to help Hoseok in the empty hallway. He had stopped crying on the third and could do it easily by his eighth.
The melodies echoed through the classroom, causing the muggle-borns to perk up their ears in recognition, their shoulders swaying into the tunes as Hoseok waited for Flitwick’s inspection. He couldn’t help but sigh in relief when he was the Charms professor nodded in satisfaction at his performance, beckoning the Slytherin behind him to come forward and take her turn.
As Hoseok made his way to his seat he was met by the sight of Seokjin smiling brilliantly, nudging him by the shoulders. “How come you’ve gotten so good?”
“Yoongi’s been teaching me,” Hoseok answered, plopping down to the chair next to Seokjin, “We share the same free periods”
“Wait,” Seokjin stared at him skeptically, “I thought you said he disliked you,”
Hoseok shrugged, “It was all just a misunderstanding,”
“So you two are friends now?”
“I think so,” Hoseok hummed, tidying up his desk, “I mean, you wouldn’t waste your time helping someone you don’t consider a friend, right?”
Seokjin gave him a long, thoughtful look. Sometimes Raina still gushed about how Hoseok managed to sit still like a normal person whenever Seokjin laid his eyes on him.
“I wouldn’t know, Hobi,” the veela said solemnly, a ghost of a smile appearing on his comely face, “You’re the only person I’d consider as my friend,”
“There’s a lot of nice people here, you know,” Hoseok said, “I know Raina can be a bit overwhelming but she’s really nice, and Malcolm too, and Nam-”
“Just because people are kind to you doesn’t mean that they will be to me,” Seokjin mumbled, his fingers playing with his uniform’s sleeves. “Besides,” he huffed, forcing himself a grin, “Maman told me it’s safer to keep my friendship close and small, you can never be too careful,”
Hoseok nodded, he did not exactly share the same thoughts with Seokjin, but he supposed that everything would be different for a veela. It did feel kind of nice though, to know that someone trusted him with their friendship. Hoseok would never take it for granted, Seokjin had been nothing but kind to him.
The class ended in a blink and soon Professor Flitwick ushered all the students out of the room. Seokjin bid his goodbyes quickly, telling Hoseok that he’d forgotten his Potions book back in the dorm. Hoseok was about to be dragged by Raina to the Green House for Herbology when Professor Flitwick beckoned him to his desk.
“You did well today, Mr. Jung” he praised, “I know your mother would be so proud of you,”
Hoseok held his breath, his hands clutching onto Mum’s box tightly onto his chest, “You think so, Sir?”
“Of course,” Flitwick said, “But you must know this, Mr. Jung,” he added pointedly, “Your mother was a favorite student of mine not because she was simply brilliant, but because she worked hard. Mari Yoon was the most diligent student of her year, always so humble and the first one to lend a helping hand to any of her friends in need. She was the most Hufflepuff since Helga herself, so there is no need to push yourself so hard, son. Hard work and determination are a thousand times better than any talent.”
Hoseok felt something caught in his throat, “I don’t understand, Sir”
Flitwick tilted his head to the side, smiling kindly at him.
“It is completely alright to struggle or even to fail, what matters is that we won’t let it be our last fight.”