Chapter Text
☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾
The waters of the East shimmered under the radiant solar glow, announcing one last warm August day in all its glory. Heavily loaded, Wooyoung trudged through the suffocating streets of Ilsan with a gigantic bouquet of flowers firmly pressed against his chest, while his other hand gripped a large suitcase. Attached to the luggage was a cage, housing his feline companion. The cat, sprawled lazily inside, seemed even more lethargic than usual, lulled by the relentless heatwave. This odd setup earned the young man many curious glances, which he ignored as he made his way to his destination.
Dressed to catch any breath of fresh air, his clothing revealed a tanned complexion that the summer sun had further darkened. Dark, long, wavy strands framed his sharp face, occasionally falling over his eyes as he walked. A lonely mole highlighted his left eye, adding a touch of mystery to his dark gaze. His expression, usually open and animated, now wore a closed-off veil, though it did little to dissuade the glances from some passersby.
As he approached the cemetery, a wave of unease washed over him, darkening his chest like a passing storm cloud. The contrast between the serene weather above and the heaviness in his heart was stark. Even after all these years, this traditional visit still tangled his body in knots.
"Wait for me quietly, Onyx," he whispered to the cat.
After a final glance at his sleeping pet, Wooyoung left his belongings by the entrance of the gloomy place. He made his way through the rows of tombstones, the crunch of gravel beneath his shoes breaking the silence. His steps were slow, as if he feared disturbing the souls slumbering a few meters below. Eventually, Wooyoung stopped before the gravestone he sought.
A tight smile tugged at his thin lips, betraying the tears he had yet to shed. The young man knelt, placing carefully the skillfully arranged bouquet of red flowers he had bought just a few minutes earlier. The first time he had come here with Heechul, his tutor and guardian until he reached his eighteenth birthday, he had been told that she particularly liked this color. According to the professor, it perfectly symbolized the strong-willed personality of the late witch.
A spirit Wooyoung seemed to inherit.
"Hi, Mom," he murmered, barely louder than a breath.
Wooyoung was not one for silence. He was the sort who couldn't go fifteen minutes without speaking, much to the dismay of his teachers. His incessant chatter had earned him countless detentions, particularly from his housemistress, who would give him a weary look whenever he started talking. His friends quite tolerated it, though some more than others.
But in this moment, before his mother’s grave, Wooyoung was rendered mute. His tongue felt heavy, as if it had been cut out. Yet his mind buzzed with stories, questions, and confessions that he longed to share.
"I was looking forward to seeing you. Sorry I didn't come sooner... my summer was busy," he began, his fingers idly twisting the hem of his green shirt.
In fact, he company of his best friend, Yeosang, made those two months far from school responsibilities much better. The two boys went to the beach every day, mostly to swim. But they also simply walked, looking for ice cream or enjoying the coolness of the night long after dusk. Those moments, combining constellations and sounds of the sea, were undoubtedly the most memorable.
"I wish we could've gone together," he said, the weight of the unspoken words pressing on him. "You must be lonely over there, aren't you?"
Goo Hara had died in a devastating fire, and the investigations have long since stopped. In fact, they never happened, as her family have shown no interest in searching what happened to her. They have even firmly refused to take in Wooyoung, who have miraculously survived at the age of two. This was how he ended up in Ilsan's Catholic orphanage, where he spent a rather dull childhood.
As for his father, there was nothing. Wooyoung had no idea who he was, where he was, or whether he was even alive. It had tortured his mind for years, until he realized that if his father had cared, he would have come looking for him long ago. The realization had been bitter, but it had freed him from the endless torment of wondering.
"But you know, even though my summer was great, I'm really happy to be going back to Hogwarts. I’ve got an apartment now, but it’s not home. There's nowhere else I feel truly at home. It's like they're the family I've always wanted to find."
And his friends were the best meaning of this word he could wish to find. He missed them all so much. Often, he found himself missing his mother too, even though he could barely remember anything about her. The only memory he had of her was a small framed picture of the two of them, taken a few days after his birth. A snapshot that showed no sign of his father’s presence—an absence later explained by Heechul, who revealed that Wooyoung’s father had disappeared long before his birth. The man’s betrayal sickened him, and Wooyoung had no desire to learn anything further about him.
"This family would be even better if you were here," he whispered, his throat tightening.
.°❀•✿•❀°.
3:57 PM.
A glance at the platform boards sent a jolt of alarm through Wooyoung, causing him to collide with another hurried traveler. A few meters ahead, Yeosang came to a stop upon hearing his best friend apologize profusely. He sighed before even turning around, already knowing what had happened. Typical Wooyoung.
It was also typical of him to arrive more than twenty minutes late. The older boy hoped that, for once, they would manage to reach the platform calmly, but apparently, this fourth year was no exception. However, Yeosang couldn't hold it against Wooyoung. Not today, at least. His visits to the cemetery were rare and heavy with emotion, so Yeosang understood that he needed time to gather himself.
After hurriedly helping the middle-aged man retrieve his scattered luggage, Wooyoung grabbed his own and dashed off at full speed toward his older friend. He could hear Onyx rustling nervously in his cage, but both the cat and he would soon be able to relax since the hidden gate was just ahead of...
"Where are you going?!" yelled the blonde, as his friend was about to crash headfirst into the wrong stone column. "It's the one just after!"
A quick glance behind him made the younger boy realize that, indeed, he was just about to smash his nose into the column. Out of breath, he caught up with Yeosang again and headed straight for the hidden gate – the right one this time – not forgetting to check around to make sure no Muggle was watching them.
In no time, the two wizards were on the platform, still panting from their race against time. Less than a minute before departure, the sounds of farewell and cheerful goodbyes echoed across the platform. Parents waved, some teary-eyed, while younger students pressed their faces to the train windows, sending off one last kiss. The shrill whistle of the Hogwarts Express filled the air, signaling its imminent departure.
Amidst the chaos, the duo spotted by chance two male figures, standing out due to their already donned wizarding robes. The prefects from their respective houses seemed to be waiting for them, as they immediately noticed the latest comers and waved them over.
"I thought we'd never see you arrive!" Chan called, relief washing over his face. "Give us your suitcases, we'll help."
In no time, they were all aboard, after having to keep the doors open with a quick wand flick and nearly stumbling from the vehicle's sudden departure. Clipboard in hand, Jungkook could finally check their names off on the list, which had been desperately incomplete until now.
"We've got everyone from Ilsan!" he cheered, satisfied.
"I think Yeonjun and Changbin are three or four compartments away, they were also worried about you two."
"Let's go then! Thanks a lot, hyungs," Wooyoung bowed politely.
"And congratulations on your appointment, Jungkook hyung!" Yeosang called out to his Ravenclaw friend.
While Chan was embarking on his second year as Gryffindor Prefect, his colleague Jungkook was just stepping into the role. Both were in their sixth year, and Wooyoung could hardly bear to think about the immense workload they’d face—balancing their academic responsibilities with their duties as prefects. Becoming a prefect was the last thing on Wooyoung’s mind for the following year, and, honestly, no other Gryffindor would ever be up to the task of succeeding Chan.
The two wizards made their way down the bustling train corridor, lugging their heavy bags while scanning the compartments for their friends. It didn’t take long. Wooyoung swore Changbin’s voice could be heard from the other end of the train.
"WOOYOUNGIIIIE!!!" he shouted, leaping from his seat to fling himself at the maknae. Wooyoung braced himself, barely managing to catch his friend without crashing to the floor.
"He was sure you missed the train," Yeonjun chuckled, giving Yeosang a warm hug.
"Crazy how you underestimate us."
"Actually," Changbin interjected, still clinging to Wooyoung’s neck, "it's Wooyoung I underestimate."
Taken aback by such remarks, the latter tried to free himself from his friend's strong arms, leading to some sort of wrestling move on the vacant seat. Yeonjun and Yeosang simply watched, overwhelmed by the spontaneous chaos but not at all surprised.
From the moment he had arrived at Hogwarts, Wooyoung had effortlessly made friends with his classmates and housemates. But it was Yeosang, the shy Ravenclaw, who had caught his attention during a shared flying lesson. Yeosang had injured himself in a clumsy accident, and Wooyoung had been the one to accompany him to the infirmary. What began as a simple act of kindness soon turned into a deep, unspoken bond. While the other Ravenclaws had been indifferent to him, Wooyoung took Yeosang under his wing, sitting next to him in classes, inviting him to meals, and sharing long hours in the library. Their friendship blossomed until they were inseparable.
"I have to admit, knowing Yeosang stayed at your place for a few days reassured me," Yeonjun teased. "It's a good way to make sure you survive yourself."
"You're exaggerating," Wooyoung groaned, his hair still a tangled mess from his playful scuffle with Changbin.
"He's not wrong. Without me, you'd have a broken nose right now," Yeosang added with a grin. "Without me, you’d probably have a broken nose right now."
The look on Wooyoung's face conveyed pure bitterness from betrayal, and Yeosang couldn't help but laugh, feeling proud of his move. Meanwhile, Changbin’s mind raced as he tried to figure out how on earth such a thing had happened, throwing out increasingly absurd guesses. Wooyoung didn’t bother to dignify any of them with a response. Instead, he turned his attention to Onyx, reaching into his bag to free the cat from his cage. At least Onyx never mocked him.
However, it only took a few gentle pats on the head, meant to style his messy hair, to lighten Wooyoung mood, and the tension melted away, returning him to his usual cheerful self.
Every visit to his mother’s grave left Wooyoung with a gnawing void in his heart. The reality of her absence hit him with a depth that had only intensified over the years, leaving a shadow where the warmth of her presence should have been. The ache never grew easier to bear. In fact, as he got older, Wooyoung found himself regretting more and more the moments he could never have with her—the questions he would never have the answers to, the memories he would never get to make.
Yet, even amidst that void, there were moments of unexpected fullness. Moments like now—sitting among his friends, his true family, who filled the empty spaces with their laughter, their kindness, and their unwavering support. Wooyoung knew he would never trade this harmonious connection for anything. Not for all the answers about his past, not for the love he had lost. The family he had found in Yeosang, Changbin, and Yeonjun was the only one he truly needed.
And that made all the difference in the world.