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Chapter Text

Minnie hates Valentine’s Day. 

For starters, it’s a made-up commercial holiday, invented to boost chocolate sales and make single people miserable. Even for couples, it’s basically a trap: just another opportunity to forget your girlfriend’s favorite flower or buy the wrong candy. 

It’s also a prefect’s nightmare, marked by blatant abuses of magic masquerading as confessions. In a single morning, Minnie’s confiscated a bakery’s worth of suspicious-looking treats, put out two literal fires, and given out more detention than the rest of the year combined. 

But mostly, Minnie hates Valentine’s Day because no one in all of goddamn Hogwarts gets as many Valentines as Cho Miyeon. 

She should be used to it by now; Miyeon’s always been a minor campus celebrity. The only daughter of famous muggle actors, she was well-known among the muggle-born students long before she stepped foot on Hogwarts’ grounds. But even to the purest of pure-bloods (like one Nicha Yontararak, of Thai wizarding royalty), Miyeon’s hard to miss.

They met in first-year potions, where, thanks to an alphabetized seating chart, Minnie found herself sharing a desk with the clumsiest witch she’d ever met. Miyeon was a danger to both of them, dropping flasks and spilling acid and accidentally brewing actual, flaming poison on a regular basis. She was an absolute, bumbling idiot and utterly rubbish at potions. 

She was also terribly charming, and really, Minnie never stood a chance. 

Minnie comes from a world of status, where people care more about her bloodline and connections than, say, who her favorite musicians are. But that’s what Miyeon asked her, while they were cleaning up their station after a particularly disastrous class.

(“Uh,” Minnie pauses her scrubbing, brow furrowed. She’s really only ever heard classical music. “Maybe Chopin?”

“Hm, don’t know them,” the Hufflepuff muses. “What about Girls’ Generation?”

Minnie frowns, shaking her head slowly. “I don’t… Is that a band?”

“Seriously?” Miyeon gasps and shoves her with soapy fingers, like Minnie isn’t the fifth most important person in Thailand. "Everyone knows Girls’ Generation! I’ll show you sometime.”)

Unlike Minnie’s housemates, Miyeon didn’t care—didn’t even know to care, the silly muggle—who Minnie was, or what she could gain from her. She was refreshingly transparent, open and obvious in a way Minnie didn’t know people could be. She spoke in this easy, uncalculated way, words pouring out without regard for how they might land, and she wore that beaming smile like an accessory.

She won Minnie over effortlessly. With each passing disaster, Minnie’s eye-rolling at Miyeon’s potions antics grew less irritated, more fond. When Miyeon would laugh sheepishly at her own inability to follow a simple recipe, Minnie found herself chuckling along. Steadily, annoyance gave way to resignation, then to affection.

Their first year passed like that: Miyeon shaving years off Minnie’s lifespan with a winsome smile, and Minnie quietly falling in love with her all the same.

Naturally, Minnie kept that part to herself. She knew she wouldn’t meet another Miyeon, knew how lucky she was to stumble across her at all. She couldn’t risk losing the only person who made her laugh, loud from her chest, who yelled at her like she wasn’t heiress to one of the last-surviving magical dynasties, who liked her without needing a reason—couldn’t risk losing her only friend. 

It was easy: given the choice between having Miyeon in her life, even if only platonically, and potentially not, she’d choose Miyeon every time. 

But it was also hard, because Miyeon chose her too. Unlike Minnie, Miyeon was popular in her own right. Well-liked for all the right reasons, she could’ve been friends with anyone. But for some reason, she picked Minnie, attached herself to the Slytherin’s side, and wreaked havoc inside Minnie’s brain like it was her job.

At first, it was nearly impossible for Minnie to hold it in, to bite back the words perpetually on the tip of her tongue. In the library, by the lake, after Minnie’s quidditch matches, up in the astronomy tower, everywhere she turned, Minnie would catch Miyeon’s sparkling gaze and nearly lose herself. It was slow torture, death by a thousand cuts, all at Miyeon’s delicate hands. 

As the years trickled by, though, it became second nature. Minnie grew accustomed to keeping her distance (emotionally, of course, since Miyeon is clingy in every sense of the word), to taking Miyeon to Hogsmeade and pretending she didn’t wish they were dates, to the everyday heartbreak of being Miyeon’s best friend.

Which is all just to say, Minnie really should be used to it—to Miyeon and her irrepressible charm, to sharing a crush with half the student body, to holding back—by now. 

But she still hates Valentine’s Day. She hates watching Miyeon field tacky confessions, hates the love letters she’s asked to deliver, hates that random students think they have the right to bombard her with their affections (hates that they can all do, so casually and carelessly, what Minnie can’t seem to).

So by lunchtime, Minnie’s in a foul mood. Beside her, Miyeon chatters happily about her parents and some muggle awards show, but Minnie barely hears her. Head down, she inhales forkfuls of salad, trying to get out of the Great Hall as quickly as possible. 

“Yah, are you even listening to me?” Miyeon whines, shoving Minnie’s shoulder. 

The Thai girl scowls, emerging from her salad bowl. “Yeah yeah, someone named Oscar decides who the best—”

Minnie stops short, stomach dropping. She jabs a finger at the half-eaten brownie in the Hufflepuff’s hand. “Cho Miyeon, where did you get that?”

Miyeon stares at it quizzically. “This? Your friend Yuqi gave it to me.”

“Who is… Song Yuqi? From Ravenclaw?” Minnie’s brow furrows. “I’m not friends with that pipsqueak.”

“Sure you are. I see you together in the halls all the time.”

“That’s because I’m taking her to detention!” Minnie groans, feeling a headache coming on. “She’s like, the bane of my existence.”

Miyeon gives her a perplexed frown. “But… she said it was from you?”

“Wha— from me?" Minnie points to herself, astonished. “When have I ever made you brownies?”

“Well, never, which is why I thought it was special—”

“And even if I did—which I definitely didn’t—why would I have Song Yuqi give them to you?”

“I thought you were friends!” The tips of Miyeon’s ears have gone a defensive pink. “And, I don’t know, it’s Valentine’s Day…”

“That’s the problem, Miyeon-ah.” Minnie buries her face in her hands, trying to calm down. “Don’t you think there could be some kind of love potion in there?”

Miyeon shakes her head slowly. “But it tastes normal, and I feel totally fine—”

“It takes time to kick in, and stop eating that!” Minnie slaps the brownie out of the Hufflepuff’s hands before she can take another bite. 

“But—”

“And Amortentia doesn’t taste like anything; we learned this.”

“You know I’m no good at potions, Min.” Miyeon hangs her head sadly, bottom lip trembling. “I’m sorry.” 

Minnie feels instantly bad. It’s not Miyeon’s fault someone might be so desperate for her attention that they’d drug her into loving them. It’s not Miyeon’s responsibility to look behind every corner, to doubt every smile and check for monsters under the bed. 

It’s Minnie’s. Miyeon’s always been like this, warm and trusting. And Minnie’s always been there, in the shadow cast by Miyeon’s halo, warding away the ill-intentioned with manicured claws and hooded glares.

“Hey, look, it’s okay.” Minnie takes Miyeon’s wrist, squeezing gently. “I should’ve been paying more attention, too.” 

Miyeon pouts and mumbles something that sounds an awful lot like, “I always say you should pay more attention to me.”

Minnie bites back a retort—she’ll let Miyeon have this one—simply rolling her eyes as she tugs the other girl to her feet. “Okay, sure. Now we should probably get out of here, just in case.” 

Miyeon nods and follows dutifully as Minnie leads them out of the Great Hall. They wind their way toward the dungeons in silence, Miyeon keeping hold of Minnie’s robe sleeve like she’s afraid she’ll lose her. 

While they walk, Minnie’s mind races, wondering what Yuqi’s up to, or if someone put her up to it. It’d be a cruel prank, but Yuqi isn’t dumb enough to blindly pass along enchanted goods… Right? And strangest of all, why would she say they were from Minnie?

Headache blossoming into a full-blown migraine, Minnie adds get to the bottom of this to her mental to-do list. For now, her priority is taking care of Miyeon. (And isn’t it always?)

When they reach the Slytherin quarters, Minnie sits Miyeon down on her bed and makes her promise not to move until she gets back. Miyeon burrows obediently into green and silver sheets, looking small and chastised. Minnie drops a comforting hand to her head, fingers carding through brown hair, before slipping out the door. 

She nearly runs through the halls, making it to the Ravenclaw common room in record time. Today’s riddle is mercifully easy, and in another stroke of luck, Minnie finds who she’s looking for the second she steps inside.

“Miyeon needs you to take over her Head Girl stuff for a bit.”

Cha Eunwoo looks up from the textbook in his lap, regarding her through his glasses. If he’s surprised to see Minnie, out of breath and demanding in his common room, he doesn’t show it. “Okay.”

That was easy. “Um, great, thanks.” Something else occurs to her. “And can you tell Song Yuqi to come find me, whenever you see her?”

The Head Boy simply nods, a clear dismissal, and Minnie turns to leave. She isn’t sure if Miyeon’s racked up enough good faith with Eunwoo that he’s willing to help without question, or if he’s just smart enough to deduce what’s happened. 

Then his voice comes, quiet but firm, across the empty common room: “Take care of her, Minnie.”

And oh, it’s both. It’s Miyeon, favored by everyone (even the Whomping Willow, somehow), and it’s Eunwoo, the sharpest wizard in their year.

And maybe it’s also Minnie, hopelessly fond and more transparent than she’d like. “I always do.”

Then she’s hustling back to the dungeons, trying to recall last year’s lesson on love potions. They typically only last a day or so, she remembers, maybe longer if brewed well. Once the potion takes effect, it should be pretty obvious who sent it, and Minnie can kill them with her bare hands punish them accordingly.

Minnie finds Miyeon where she left her, tucked into the Thai girl's bed. She closes the door behind her, padding across the room. “Feel anything?”

Miyeon blinks sleepily and shakes her head. “I don’t think so.” She sits up against the headboard, patting the empty space beside her.

Minnie grabs her charms book and settles onto the bed, letting Miyeon tuck herself into her side. “Okay, let me know if you start to feel different.”

Minnie tries to study—NEWTs are coming up, and she’s on-track to become an auror—but she can’t seem to focus. There’s her concern for Miyeon, which has Minnie casting sideways glances, checking on the other girl every few minutes. There’s the mystery of the brownies and the literal witch-hunt Minnie’s about to launch over them. 

And then there’s Miyeon, a distraction unto herself. 

She shifts restlessly while the Slytherin reads, her perfume, woody and rich, washing over Minnie with each movement. (Distracting.) 

Her head slips from Minnie’s shoulder into the crook of her neck, nose bumping delicately against the taller girl’s pulse point. (Distracting.) 

She sighs and snakes an arm around Minnie’s waist, pulling herself impossibly closer (very distracting), before finally coming to a rest, steady breaths fanning across Minnie’s collarbones. She smells like the forest, like smoky air, and her skin is warm against Minnie’s stomach, and she fills every corner of Minnie’s brain like the morning fog that rolls across the Black Lake.

(And maybe Minnie will never get used to Miyeon.)

“Minnie-yah?”

Minnie starts, glancing down to find Miyeon watching her with wide, shining eyes. She thought Miyeon had fallen asleep. “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Minnie sighs, patting Miyeon’s head in acknowledgment. It’s a phrase the other girl throws around often, easily, and Minnie tries not to mean it too much every time she says it back. “Uh huh, you too.”

“No.” Miyeon sits up suddenly, face dangerously close to Minnie’s. She stares the Slytherin down, eyes dilated and determined. “I love you, Minnie.”

Minnie blinks back, stomach pooling with dread. She really hates Valentine’s Day.

Chapter Text

There’s an old Thai expression hanging on the wall of Minnie’s family home: when the water rises, hurry to get some. The cautious daughter of a powerful legacy, Minnie heard it often as a child. “Take what’s yours,” her parents would urge, “before it slips away.”

But Minnie could never seem to get the timing right. How would she know, she wondered, when the water had risen? She was always too late, finally gathering her courage, only to find that the tide had already receded, leaving her standing alone on an empty shore. 

“I love you, Minnie.”

Minnie springs from the bed, blood running cold. 

She stares wide-eyed at Miyeon, who frowns at the sudden distance between them. “Come back here.”

“Um, no, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Minnie stutters, holding up her charms book like a shield. She wracks her brain, sifting through years of potions lessons. How is this even possible?  

“Stop being like that and come back to bed, Minnie-yah,” Miyeon implores, reaching for the Slytherin. The words skitter across Minnie’s already-frayed nerves like water droplets on a hot pan.

She can’t leave Miyeon alone in this condition, but they can’t stay here either. Not with Miyeon wrapped up in Minnie’s sheets, staring at her with those eyes, telling her to come back to bed—

“We need to go,” Minnie announces. She spins on her heel and heads for the door, trying to put some space between herself and the lovesick Hufflepuff.

Miyeon catches up to her in the Slytherin common room, immediately latching onto the taller girl’s arm. “You can’t just run off like that,” she huffs, giving Minnie’s shoulder a little punch. “What if I got lost down here?”

“You’ve been here, like, a thousand times." They pass the noticeboard, plastered with various winter goings-on. In the center, a piece of enchanted parchment displays this month’s password, along with the ever-present warning: Slytherins only. “Illegally, mind you.”

Miyeon squeezes Minnie’s arm through her robes. “Well, someone has to keep you warm in this gloomy, creepy dungeon.”

Minnie tugs Miyeon up the stairs, fighting a blush. She needs to resolve this situation quickly, before she does something impulsive and ill-advised, like confess her stupid feelings. 

When love potions wear off, the infatuation fades, but the memories stay. And the last thing Minnie wants is for Miyeon to come to her senses, the same person she was yesterday, only now burdened by the unwelcome knowledge of her best friend’s years-long crush on her.

“Minnie?” 

She whirls around at the sound of her name. Rounding the corner is Seo Soojin, one of the sixth year Slytherin prefects. Soojin is calm and mature, dependable in a crisis.

“God, am I glad to see you," Minnie breathes out, relieved. "Can you watch Miyeon for a second?”

“Can I watch…” Soojin repeats slowly, gaze skating over to Miyeon, who grips Minnie’s arm possessively.

“It’s a long story, but I have to find Song Yuqi—”

“Say less,” Soojin interjects, holding up a hand. “I just threw that brat in detention for the second time today.” She pinches her nose in irritation, reaching for Miyeon with the other hand. “Whatever it is, I’m sure she did it.”

“You’re the best, Soojin-ah,” Minnie sighs gratefully, attempting to extricate herself from Miyeon’s grasp. 

Except the Hufflepuff clings on stubbornly, surprisingly strong for someone who makes Minnie carry her textbooks half the time. She shoots Soojin a suspicious glare before turning her attention back to Minnie, brown eyes wide and insistent. “I thought I was the best.”

“It’s a turn of phrase, Miyeon,” Minnie sighs, finally freeing herself from the girl’s iron grip. “Can you hang out with Soojin for a little? I’ll be right back.”

Miyeon folds her arms and juts out her bottom lip, the picture of insolence. “Not until you say it.”

Minnie blinks back at her. “Say what?”

And, swear to god, Miyeon actually stomps her foot, like a child on the verge of a tantrum. “Say that I’m the best.”

“Wha— Are you serious?” Minnie groans, embarrassed for both of them that Soojin is witnessing all this.

Miyeon nods petulantly. Minnie gives Soojin a incredulous look, but the sixth year only chuckles, gesturing at the defiant Hufflepuff. “Just say it, Minnie.”

She can’t believe this is happening. But they’re both staring at her expectantly, waiting, so Minnie coughs and grumbles out a rushed, “Fine, you’re the best, Miyeon-ah.”

Miyeon lights up, darting forward to land a kiss on Minnie’s cheek—it happens too fast for her to dodge, leaves her tingling—before allowing herself to be led back down the stairs by Soojin. 

Minnie watches them go, briefly stunned. Shaking her head, she calls after them, “You know, she’s technically not allowed—”

“You have to be kidding, Minnie,” Soojin drawls without looking back. Next to her, Miyeon taps in the common room password, smiling brightly when the door materializes. Fair point. 

Minnie turns and heads toward the Detention Chamber, stalking through the halls. Time to confront one soon-to-be-dead (or worse, expelled) Ravenclaw. 

She finds the fifth year in the back of the classroom, feet propped up on a desk and wand balanced on one finger. Yuqi brightens when she sees Minnie. “What brings you to my humble—”

“What the hell did you do to Miyeon, you little gremlin?” Minnie growls, slapping the blonde’s feet off the desk.

Yuqi feigns innocence, batting her eyelashes. “What ever are you talking about?”

“Don’t mess with me today, Song,” Minnie threatens, dragging the younger girl into a standing position by the collar of her robes. There’s a collective gasp behind her, from all the other Valentine’s Day miscreants. Minnie ignores them in favor of giving Yuqi a good shake. “You gave Miyeon something, and now she’s in love with me, and if you don’t fix this, I will end your bloodline right here.”

She’s satisfied by the way Yuqi’s throat bobs nervously. The Ravenclaw glances around at their audience, no doubt full of fellow delinquents she calls friends, before surrendering. “Okay, okay, let me go, and we’ll talk.”

Minnie releases her, and Yuqi straightens out her robes indignantly before sitting back down. Minnie pulls up a chair next to the girl and wordlessly conjures a cone of silence around them. “Speak.”

“So Miyeon’s in love with you, you say?” Yuqi opens, folding her hands on the desk in front of her. “How interesting.”

“Yeah, interesting.” Minnie’s brow furrows dangerously. “And, by all accounts, impossible.”

“Not for me. I’m a bit of a potions genius, y’know,” Yuqi responds cheekily, looking unfathomably smug. Minnie contemplates several unforgivable curses—maybe she’d be forgiven, in light of the circumstances—before settling on a vehement glare.

“It’s a new kind of love potion, one that, um, makes you fall in love with the first person you see?” Yuqi continues haltingly, sensing the older girl’s increasingly murderous aura. “It’s a harmless prank, really, just for shits and giggles.”

“Notice how I’m not laughing,” Minnie deadpans. Another thought occurs to her. “And it’s not harmless either. What if it wasn’t me?”

Yuqi has the nerve to roll her eyes, a smirk returning to her lips. “I knew it’d be you—you’re obsessed with her.”

Minnie chokes a little, sputtering, “No, I’m not!”

“You haven’t even asked me for an antidote,” the younger girl points out, cocking an eyebrow.

“That’s what I came here for, you idiot.”

“Oh.” Yuqi frowns. “Well, there isn’t one. It’ll have to wear off.”

Minnie thinks about grabbing the Ravenclaw again, possibly by the throat this time. She grits her teeth. “How long will that take?”

“A few hours.” Yuqi counts on her fingers, apparently doing some quick calculations. “Maybe a day? No more than a couple days, I’d say.”

“What the— Which is it?”

Yuqi shrugs, holding her hands up. “See, I’ve never made this one before, so I don’t really know.”

Minnie narrows her eyes at the blonde. “Oh, the detention I’m about to give you… You’ll never see the light of day again, Song Yuqi, mark my words.”

The fifth year barks out a laugh, leaning back in her seat and giving Minnie an appraising stare. “Just enjoy it until it wears off, Yontararak. It’s not dangerous or anything, and it won’t kill you to live a little.”

Minnie doesn’t like the way Yuqi’s looking at her, like she knows something Minnie doesn’t. But she can’t hex the girl into next week (not with all these witnesses, anyway), so she dispels the cone of silence around them and stands to leave, done with this useless conversation.

Not without one parting shot, though: “I found your bunny plushie, by the way, the one you can’t sleep without. You can have it back when this is all over.”

Yuqi gasps, leaping out of her seat. “You give Mr. Fuzzle back right now!” About twenty heads swivel to gawk at them, and the fifth year flushes bright red. “I mean, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Minnie smirks vindictively as she walks out of the classroom.

The potion does not wear off that day. Or the next. And despite Yuqi’s assertion that it won’t kill her to live a little, every moment Minnie spends with Miyeon acting like she loves her feels a bit like dying.

When Minnie gets back to the Slytherin common room, Miyeon springs from the couch and practically leaps into her arms, mumbling about how much she missed Minnie into her neck. She won't let go, whining outrageously when the taller girl tries to pry her off.

Despite this clearly abnormal behavior, when Minnie explains the situation—and why Song Yuqi will be cleaning the prefects’ bathroom for the foreseeable future—to Soojin, the younger girl seems surprised.

(“Is she not always like this?”

“Like this?” Minnie gestures disbelievingly at the girl virtually burrowing a hole in her side.

Soojin shrugs, smile bemused. “I literally didn’t even notice a difference.”)

After their brief separation, Miyeon is clingier than ever. She sneaks her hand into Minnie’s, threading their fingers together. As they walk through the halls, she presses close as she can to the taller girl, nearly tripping them both. 

Back in her room, Minnie attempts to recap her conversation with Yuqi, but Miyeon seems more interested in the way Minnie’s mouth moves, staring adoringly at the Slytherin’s lips, than in the words she’s saying.

Flustered, Minnie gives up and moves to her desk to study. Miyeon follows, a cheerful moth to an agitated flame. She casts about briefly for another seat and, not finding one, drops herself right into Minnie’s lap with a satisfied hum.

Minnie takes a deep breath, exhaling through her nose. She tries to keep her voice steady—tries to maintain her increasingly tenuous hold on her sanity—as she begs Miyeon to get off her.

It’s no use; the Hufflepuff wraps her arms around Minnie’s shoulders in defiance, burying her face petulantly in the taller girl’s neck. 

(And Soojin’s right: Miyeon’s always kind of like this. It’s taken Minnie years to adjust, to recalibrate herself to the other girl’s constant displays of affection. She’s built up a tolerance by now, she likes to think.

But Miyeon in her lap, nose running along the underside of her jaw, is about ten bridges too far.)

Minnie stands abruptly, heat blossoming in her chest. The sudden motion dislodges Miyeon, who yelps and clutches onto the taller girl’s shoulders. Ignoring Miyeon's protests, Minnie all but carries the girl across her room, depositing her in the bed. 

Except as she pulls away, a hand shoots out to grab her wrist, trapping her in place. Miyeon stares up at her with furrowed brows and the tiniest quiver in her bottom lip. There's a wild, desperate gleam in her eyes, one Minnie’s never seen before. 

“Please don’t leave again.”

It’s only then, with Miyeon looking all devastated and fragile below her, that Minnie remembers something else from class: love potions work by creating a temporary addiction, an insatiable need. Like any other addiction, prolonged deprivation means withdrawal. And withdrawal means pain.

Minnie caves. She lets herself be pulled down into bed, lets Miyeon lift her arm and wriggle underneath it—lets the girl open her up like a treasure chest, stealing the last pieces of her sanity. 

(Par for the course, she figures. Miyeon already owns every other piece of her.)

“I’m not going anywhere,” Minnie soothes, feeling the Hufflepuff relax against her.

Things get a little easier after that. Reassured by Minnie’s continued presence, Miyeon calms down some. She stops tensing every time Minnie shifts, and her eyes lose that anxious edge. Eventually, the compliments she’s been murmuring into Minnie’s ear all afternoon dwindle enough for them to have something resembling a conversation.

Minnie talks about anything, trying to distract them both. She complains about her professors, recounts stories from quidditch practice, nags Miyeon for getting them into this mess. They’re about to graduate, she reminds the Hufflepuff, and Minnie can’t always be around to clean up after her.

And honestly, Minnie does worry sometimes about Miyeon post-Hogwarts. In part, it’s because Minnie’s been watching out for Miyeon since they were kids; she doesn’t really trust the accident-prone girl to take care of herself.

But mostly, she worries that Miyeon won’t stay, that she’ll return to the muggle world after graduation—that Minnie won’t see her again. Magic isn’t exactly the girl's strong suit, to be frank. And Miyeon likes to sing, could be a celebrity with that face. She could leave the wizarding world behind, walk out of Minnie’s life and never look back, if she wanted to. 

They haven’t talked about it, and now definitely isn’t the time to bring it up, so Minnie pivots to stories about Thailand, prefect gossip, all the normal things they do talk about. 

And it’s not quite comfortable: being this close to Miyeon always makes Minnie’s palms sweat, makes her pulse race. But it’s tolerable, and as the evening wears on, Minnie starts to think she might survive this ordeal after all.

Until night comes, that is, and it becomes clear that Miyeon has no plans of leaving Minnie’s bed.

In all their years at Hogwarts, Miyeon has never slept over in Minnie’s room. Not for lack of trying, certainly; Minnie’s kicked a sleepy, stubborn Miyeon out of her bed just after nightfall more times than she cares to count. 

But it’s a line in the sand for Minnie, the only one she won’t let Miyeon cross (the rest have long since been obliterated, trampled blithely underfoot by the Hufflepuff). Even though she’s given Miyeon everything else—every trip to Hogsmeade and lazy afternoon, all her secret spots on campus, every spare moment and passing thought—this seemed different, like something Minnie couldn’t come back from.

At least now she knows, she was right.

Because she can’t come back from this: from Miyeon looking absolutely tiny in Minnie’s fluffiest pajamas; from the sight of yellow and black winter robes, hanging next to hers by the door; from Miyeon, barefaced and breathtaking, illuminated only by the sliver of moonlight peeking through the curtains.

Minnie’s heart stutters. Miyeon’s body is warm against hers, electric at every point of contact. That last line dissolves, and this time, Minnie can’t tell if it was Miyeon, carelessly dashing across like she’s done so many times before, or if it was Minnie, stumbling headlong over her own perimeter.

Or maybe it was just the rising tide, surging over the backshore, washing the sand smooth.

In the half-darkness, Miyeon leans up to drop a kiss on Minnie’s cheek, feather-light. “Sleep well, Minnie-yah.”

And somehow—even though Minnie almost never gets a good night’s sleep, plagued by an endless carousel of restless thoughts, and currently, her every nerve ending is alight, flashing Miyeon’s name—Minnie does, falling asleep almost instantly to the steady rhythm of Miyeon’s breathing, of her own heartbeat.

Minnie wakes up in stages. In the first few, hazy seconds between dream and reality, she registers a familiar warmth, a comfortable stillness. Suspended on that threshold, she instinctively pulls the body wrapped around hers closer.

It shifts, makes a soft, contented sound, and Minnie’s eyes flutter open to land on Miyeon’s sleeping face, centimeters from her own. Not quite herself yet, Minnie allows her gaze to linger. The plane of Miyeon’s brow, the line of her nose, the slight part in her lips—Minnie traces delicate features with her eyes, committing this moment, this Miyeon to memory. 

No matter how many times Minnie sees her, how often she disputes the point, Miyeon is undeniably pretty. It’s a fact in the world, geometrically provable. She’s hit-you-over-the-head pretty, the kind that’s obvious, that demands attention. Miyeon knows it, too, wields her beauty more effectively than she’s ever used a wand.

But there’s something about her like this, with her jaw slack and hair falling messily over her face, something unintentional and raw and just so Miyeon. Because she’s picture-perfect, pristine, the campus princess—but she’s also not that at all, not to Minnie.

To Minnie, Miyeon is a walking catastrophe, more beast than beauty. She’s the girl who laughs too loudly at her own jokes and punches Minnie’s shoulder, far harder than necessary, when she’s offended. She’s unfunny and ungraceful, she loses things constantly, she can’t fly a broom or transfigure a mouse to save her life, and she’s got a temper like a raging bull. 

And Minnie’s so in love with her she can barely breathe.

Miyeon stirs then, blinking sleepily. Minnie tenses, wondering if the potion has worn off, as Miyeon slowly focuses on her. Brown eyes widen slightly, flashing with recognition. Minnie starts to pull away, mouth forming an apology.

But Miyeon only wriggles closer, limbs tangling with Minnie’s under the covers. She nestles her head into the crook of Minnie’s neck, voice coming out muffled and sleep-scratchy when she mumbles a good morning, did you sleep well? into the taller girl’s collarbone.

(And there’s really no coming back from this.)

It takes them a while to get moving, slow to separate from each other, like strands of pulled taffy. Miyeon is extra affectionate, peppering kisses across Minnie’s cheeks, forehead, anywhere the Thai girl will let her.

It could be a symptom of overnight withdrawal, making Miyeon needy and fond, or a byproduct of the coziness of warm sheets and dawning light. Or maybe she’s always like this in the mornings—maybe this is what it’d be like to wake up to Miyeon every day.

It’s a dangerous thought, and it’s what finally propels Minnie out of bed. Just enjoy it until it wears off. Caught up in a future she can’t have, Minnie curses Yuqi with every fiber of her being.

Miyeon rises with her, following Minnie through the halls and up to the Great Hall for breakfast. They eat side by side, Miyeon eagerly shelling hardboiled eggs and placing them on Minnie’s plate.

Minnie chews distractedly, wincing at the occasional crunch of eggshell fragments between her teeth. It’s a Saturday, so she doesn’t have to worry about abandoning Miyeon for class, but she does have a quidditch match.

Miyeon is a staunch attendee of Minnie’s matches, having long since appropriated a couple of the Slytherin’s scarves to wear in support. But given the great resistance she expressed yesterday at the notion of being separated, Minnie’s a little worried about breaking the news to the human barnacle currently peeling tangerines next to her.

But then Miyeon, with some effort, conjures a plastic bag and sweeps the roughly-peeled tangerines inside. She presents it to Minnie, smile bright. “For your match today.”

And Minnie has to stop herself from kissing Miyeon right there at the table, in front of the entire school.

She settles for accepting the bag with an embarrassed cough, trying to ignore the squeeze in her chest at the way Miyeon’s eyes sparkle in the morning sunlight. 

(The tangerines are horrendously peeled, more white than orange, and there’s more than a few pieces of rind still stuck to some of them. 

Minnie eats them all at halftime, spitting out chunks of peel and chewing through the pith with a dorky grin plastered on her face.)

Slytherin wins by a landslide. Minnie knew they would; Ravenclaw hasn’t been able to replace their star seeker, who graduated last year, and even he couldn’t outfly Minnie. 

She comes alive on the quidditch pitch. It’s there, with the wind roaring in her ears, that Minnie gets closest to understanding that old saying her parents like. It’s skill and instict, well-timed bursts of action. And up in the air, Minnie’s timing is impeccable.

As players zip around below her, Minnie waits, high above the field. Then, when she spies that flash of gold—when the water rises—she flies. 

Once the whistle’s been blown and Minnie touches down, the snitch clutched in her fist, Miyeon storms the pitch. Green and silver scarf fluttering behind her, she hurtles across the field and tackles Minnie into a hug, nearly bowling her over. 

And it’s nothing new, and Minnie is sweaty and dirty and so, so tired. But Miyeon holds her tight, murmurs I’m so proud of you, Minnie-yah into her neck, and damn if Minnie doesn’t feel like a fucking celebrity. 

They celebrate their win in the Slytherin common room. Jaehyun, one of their chasers, has smuggled in some leftover firewhisky from the holidays, and Minnie partakes looks the other way when he pours some out for the older players. (They all pretend Miyeon’s allowed to be there, so it’s a bit of quid pro quo anyway.)

The bottle goes quickly, in non-negligible part due to Minnie, who gets swept up in the festivities. Brave with lingering adrenaline from the match and the burn of firewhisky, Minnie lets Miyeon cling to her, lets her own hand fall to the girl’s waist, lets the Hufflepuff press warm lips against her cheek every now and then. 

It won’t kill you to live a little. Minnie wonders if this is what Yuqi meant.

“Good form out there, captain,” a voice calls, and Minnie looks up to see Slytherin’s keeper, Ten, approaching them from across the common room. 

Ten is a great teammate and a better friend. Minnie’s known him since they were kids, playing little league quidditch back in Thailand. He’s a piece of home at Hogwarts, a grounding presence—

He sizes them up, flashing Minnie a smirk. “And congrats on finally confessing to Miyeon.”

—and an absolute moron. 

Suddenly sober, Minnie freezes. She wants to know if Miyeon heard (she must have; she’s right there), but she’s afraid to look over, afraid to remove her arm from Miyeon’s waist, afraid to react in any way lest she give herself up so obviously. 

Instead, she stares daggers at Ten, hoping he bursts into flames or spontaneously implodes or transfigures into the snake he is. Anything to distract from the suffocating tension that follows her indirect confession, hanging in the air like smoke.

Ten frowns, gaze drifting between Minnie’s deadly expression and her hand at Miyeon’s hip. “But aren’t you…”

Minnie’s scowl intensifies, shutting him up. He chuckles nervously, backing away a little. “Ah, I guess not?”

Minnie’s eye twitches in response. Withering under her glare, Ten gulps and literally disapparates, abruptly ejecting himself from the conversation. Minnie silently hopes he splinches himself.

Once he’s gone, Minnie’s eyes skitter sideways to Miyeon. She finds the Hufflepuff staring back at her, a tiny furrow in her brow, and Minnie’s stomach drops. 

This is definitely not how this was supposed to go.

Against her better judgment, Minnie still thinks about confessing to Miyeon sometimes (she can’t help it; it’s all she can do not to actually go through with it). She’s come close over the years, always pulling herself back at the last second, waiting on the timing.

Looking at Miyeon now, Minnie’s vision tunnels. Is this it? 

She takes a deep breath, stares straight into Miyeon’s eyes, and—

“Minnie, I think I’m drunk.”

“Huh?” Minnie blinks dumbfoundedly at her. Pulling away to grasp the other girl by the shoulders, she takes in Miyeon’s rosy cheeks and glassy eyes. “What? When did you even…”

Miyeon shakes her head and slips between Minnie’s arms, burying her face in the taller girl’s neck. “The firewhisky,” she mumbles, nosing at Minnie’s collarbone. “Can we go to bed?”

Minnie holds her for a second, bewildered. Miyeon isn’t usually a lightweight (not like Minnie), and they’ve been together all night. But she shows no signs of having heard Ten, looking more sleepy than anything. 

After studying her for a beat longer, Minnie relaxes, dropping a hand to Miyeon’s head. “Yeah, let’s get you to sleep.”

Later, in bed with Miyeon curled up beside her, Minnie replays that moment in her head. It coalesces with countless others, a supercut of all the times Minnie’s feelings surged like the tide, then retreated from the shore. 

The timing was never right, she thinks. There’s a science to this, or an art. And though Minnie doesn’t quite get it yet, she’d like to think that when it comes to this—when it comes to Miyeon—she’ll know the moment when she sees it.

(But maybe she already missed it. Maybe she’s waiting in vain, a fool on the sand, for a tidal wave that’s come and gone.)

“Go to sleep, Minnie-yah.”

Minnie startles, eyes blinking open in the darkness. She frowns at the girl tucked into her side. “You go to sleep.”

“Can’t.” Miyeon shifts against her, letting out a faint sigh. “You’re thinking too loud.”

Minnie chuckles quietly and gives the other girl’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Sorry, should I stop thinking?”

“Think less,” Miyeon murmurs, small hand fisting the front of Minnie’s shirt. Then, as an afterthought: “Unless it’s about me.”

You’re all I think about, dummy. It’s another moment for the montage, another time Minnie catches her heart right before it leaps out of her mouth. 

“I think I can do that,” she says instead, as if she could possibly do anything else. 

Minnie is starting to concede that Yuqi might actually be a genius. A crazy one, undoubtedly, who needs to be locked away from the rest of society, but a genius nonetheless. 

Because love potions are supposed to last a day at most, but four days go by, and Miyeon still doesn’t get better. 

Sunday morning, Minnie decides that she needs to return to a semi-normal routine, even if that means dragging Miyeon along with her. They sit in the library together, Minnie trying to study and Miyeon trying to distract her. They’re both partially successful.

Sunday evening, Miyeon comes to spectate Minnie’s quidditch practice. Ten makes it halfway through an apology for the previous night, then spots the Hufflepuff in the stands, small and shivering in the bitter cold, and announces to the team that captain finally got her girl. Later, Minnie maintains to Miyeon that everyone on the team flying laps except her is a normal part of practice.

Monday afternoon, Minnie walks out of charms class to find Miyeon waiting for her. Amid all the students milling about in the hallway, Miyeon leans up to press a kiss to Minnie’s cheek, millimeters from the corner of her mouth, and offers to carry her books. Flustered, Minnie wordlessly snatches Miyeon’s books out of her hands and strides away.

(Minnie can’t come back from this—)

Monday night, Miyeon reachs across the dinner table for a bread roll, and Minnie moves her glass aside before she can knock it over, like she always does (the laundry elves should thank Minnie for the amount of effort she’s saved them over the years). But this time, Miyeon freezes. She glances down at the cup, then up at Minnie with unusual intensity, like she’s seeing her for the first time, and says I really love you, Minnie.

It’s the thousandth time, probably the hundredth just in the past few days. But it catches Minnie between the ribs like a bludger, punching the air from her lungs. And for once, Minnie can’t say it back, not even casually, because nothing about the way she feels about Miyeon is casual.

(—because she’s so far gone, there’s nothing to come back to.)

Tuesday morning, Minnie wakes up in Miyeon’s arms and forgets, for a second, that none of this is real. She groans at the daylight searing through her eyelids, yanking the covers over her head and pulling the other girl in tighter. The bed is warm, and Miyeon is warm, and her lips on Minnie’s collarbone are warm, and all Minnie can think about is staying here with Miyeon.

(—because all she ever thinks about is Miyeon.)

Tuesday evening, Miyeon tells Minnie while they’re climbing the stairs to the astronomy tower that she forgot her pocket telescope. Minnie doesn’t even think before handing over her own. Either of them could easily summon Miyeon’s telescope with a flick of a wand, and they both know that, but the way Miyeon’s eyes shine at the gesture makes Minnie want to give her everything.

(—because Miyeon owns every last goddamn piece of her.)

It happens Tuesday night, after class. They stay late to clean up the astronomy tower, Minnie’s punishment for forgetting her telescope. Miyeon dusts the ancient armillary sphere rotating in the center of the room, chattering mindlessly about something muggle-related. 

It reminds Minnie of how they met, scrubbing cauldrons all those years ago. She couldn’t have known, then, how the fumbling, incompetent witch jeopardizing her potions grade would take up residence in her heart, how she'd break down walls and put up art and fill every corner with herself. 

(—because Minnie is helplessly, hopelessly in love with Miyeon, has been since before she knew what love was, will be until the sun swallows the earth.)

It must remind Miyeon of that too, because she stops dusting, falling silent, and crosses the room to where Minnie leans out the window. She doesn’t say anything, simply rests her palms against the stone frame and looks out into the darkness with Minnie.

It’s a beautiful night. The sky is inky black and cloudless, good for astronomy. The moon hangs in a low crescent, a cheshire cat smile duplicated in the glassy lake, and everything is blanketed in a wintry stillness. 

Minnie wishes she could stay here, in this moment. She doesn’t want to graduate, doesn’t want to know what comes next. She doesn’t want the potion to wear off, can’t go back to how things were. 

If she could freeze time—the two of them, here, now—just like this, that would be nice, she thinks.

Minnie turns to tell Miyeon… something, she's not sure what. Maybe it was important. I love you. I miss you. I’m sorry.

But then Miyeon is right there, centimeters away, and Minnie loses the words. It was definitely important. But Miyeon smiles at her anyway, like she knows what Minnie was about to say.

And maybe she does.

Minnie’s heart pushes against her ribcage, reaching for Miyeon. She’s impossibly pretty, always but especially now, cheeks pink from the cold, stars in her eyes.

There’s nothing Minnie wouldn’t give her, nothing she could stop Miyeon from taking. 

Minnie holds her breath as Miyeon leans in, eyes fluttering shut. It’s like the moon drawing near, stirring the tide. A sea change.

When the water rises—

Blood roars in Minnie’s ears. Miyeon is too close, and she’s too far gone, and there’s a tsunami cresting in her chest, racing toward the shore.

—hurry to get some.

Minnie closes the gap.