Chapter Text
“Are you really bringing a self-stirring cauldron? Really, Hyuck?”
Renjun greeted the two, stowing his bags in their usual train compartment. They were the first ones to arrive at the station this time. Jeno let out an exasperated sigh, greeting Renjun with a small pat before nudging him toward Haechan’s general direction—his way of saying you tell him without actually having to.
Renjun rolled his eyes, eyeing the enchanted cauldron Haechan was adjusting in his lap. “It’s barely big enough to brew tea. What exactly are you planning to do with that?”
“Experiments,” Haechan said vaguely, twirling his wand between his fingers. “You never know when you’ll need portable potion-making.”
Jeno sighed. “You’re going to get detention before we even reach Hogwarts.”
“Not if I don’t get caught.”
Before Renjun could argue, their conversation was cut short by the sound of Jaemin arriving at their usual compartment, lazily grinning at his friends.
Chenle’s and Jisung’s faces popped up behind the compartment door. The two had shown up together, having spent half their summer holidays in China, much to Jaemin’s annoyance. Something about Chenle sending him a letter that just said don’t miss me too much in the middle of July and never responding again.
“You’re alive,” Jaemin deadpanned, arms crossed as he stared at Chenle, who only grinned wider at the sight of him.
“I am! And thriving,” Chenle chirped, clearly unfazed. “Did you miss me?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
Jisung, standing slightly behind, only sighed at the all-too-familiar exchange. “I should’ve sat somewhere else.”
“Too late,” Jaemin said, already pulling the younger boy into the compartment where the others had settled.
Jeno and Renjun had already taken the seats near the window, leaving Chenle and Jisung to fill in the rest. Haechan, still inspecting his cauldron, looked up briefly to acknowledge their arrival before tucking it away under his seat.
Jaemin, never one to waste an opportunity, immediately dropped into the seat beside Renjun. “Miss me?”
“No.”
“Liar,” Jaemin echoed Chenle’s words from earlier, nudging Renjun’s knee with his own.
Renjun ignored him in favor of flipping through his book, though the way his ears tinted pink didn’t escape Jaemin’s notice.
The train ride continued with the usual chaos. Jeno tried to stop Haechan from sneaking chocolate frogs into Jisung’s robe pockets (a losing battle, really). Chenle managed to trade an entire stack of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans for a self-writing quill from a first-year who had no idea what they were getting into. Renjun spent most of the ride with his nose in his book, trying—and failing—not to react when Jaemin leaned in too close, pointing at random sentences just to get a response.
***
Familiar.
Like how it always was for the past six years.
At first, it was just Jaemin.
Annoyed, arms crossed, very much sulking in the corner of a compartment that his older brother and his friends had deemed too grown up for him. Which was ridiculous, considering Jaemin was eleven now, a whole first-year at Hogwarts, and his brother had been promising for years that they’d ride the train together.
Instead, he got kicked out, told to go find some first-year friends like a lost puppy. So now he sat there, staring out the window, contemplating the very dramatic idea of sitting alone the whole ride just to prove a point.
Then came Haechan.
Wide-eyed, bright-faced, practically radiating curiosity as he slid open the door and stuck his head in. "This seat taken?"
Jaemin glanced at the six empty seats beside him. "Obviously."
Haechan stepped in anyway. "Cool. My friends and I are sitting here, okay?"
Jaemin blinked. "Your what—?"
Before he could get another word in, Haechan had already claimed the seat across from him, setting down his trunk like it was his compartment in the first place.
Jaemin narrowed his eyes. This kid’s got nerve.
Not long after, the so-called friends showed up.
First was Jeno, whom Haechan had apparently met at the trolley while debating over chocolate frogs. Jeno was quiet at first, polite but observant, holding two chocolate frogs and very obviously wondering if he’d made a mistake following Haechan. But then Haechan started talking (and never stopped), and Jeno eventually relaxed, smiling when he told them about how his dad was a wizard but his mum was a Muggle.
"That means you grew up knowing about magic, right?" Jaemin asked, watching as Jeno unwrapped one of the chocolates.
"Yeah, but I wasn’t allowed a wand or anything," Jeno said. "Mum said I had to wait until Hogwarts."
"Same here," Haechan chimed in. "Mum’s a witch, Dad’s a Muggle. Very boring household. No levitating furniture, no self-washing dishes. Sometimes I think she’s doing it on purpose."
"Because she probably is," another voice joined, and Jaemin looked up to see a new boy at the door.
Renjun.
Jeno waved him over, so Jaemin assumed this must be the actual friend Haechan had been referring to earlier. Renjun sat next to Jeno, setting his book on his lap and nodding at them in greeting.
"Renjun’s mum and my mum know each other," Jeno explained. "We grew up together."
Jaemin hummed, eyeing Renjun with interest. "Muggleborn?"
Renjun nodded. "Yeah. First in my family to go to Hogwarts."
Jaemin thought that was cool. He was a pureblood, but his parents never cared much about that, so neither did he. It was just interesting, hearing about someone experiencing the magical world for the first time.
"Have you been to Diagon Alley yet?" Jaemin asked, curious.
Renjun smiled, a little sheepish. "Yeah. It was overwhelming, but in a good way. I almost cried at the bookstore."
That earned an approving nod from Jaemin. He liked that answer.
The conversation quickly turned to Hogwarts itself—what subjects they were most excited for, which house they thought they’d be in.
"My family’s mostly Slytherin," Jaemin said with a shrug. "So I guess I’ll probably end up there."
Haechan hummed. "I dunno about me. I want Gryffindor, but Mum says I might be a Ravenclaw because I ask too many questions."
"You do ask a lot of questions," Jeno muttered.
"Yeah, but that just means I’m curious," Haechan argued. "I’ll bet you end up in Hufflepuff."
"Why?"
"Because you seem nice."
Jeno stared. "That’s it?"
"Yeah. That’s the vibe you give off."
Jeno didn’t look convinced, but Jaemin thought it was funny.
Renjun, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke. "I think I might be a Ravenclaw. I mean, I like learning, and I read a lot, so it makes sense."
Jaemin smirked. "Nerd."
Renjun rolled his eyes, but Jeno snorted, and Haechan burst into laughter, and suddenly it wasn’t so bad anymore.
Jaemin had been annoyed at first—kicked out of his brother’s group, abandoned in a train compartment like some lost cause. But now, sitting here with these guys, talking about Hogwarts, magic, and everything in between, he figured maybe his brother had done him a favor after all.
***
For snot-nosed first-years, they sure were self-aware.
Jaemin remembered the Sorting Ceremony like it was yesterday—the way he had confidently taken his place at the Slytherin table, only to immediately wave his green-lined robe toward the others across the hall. Haechan, in Gryffindor, had grinned and thrown a dramatic salute. Jeno, in Hufflepuff, had given a small nod, ever the composed one even at eleven. And Renjun, in Ravenclaw, had just rolled his eyes before subtly raising a hand in acknowledgment.
Who would’ve thought that would be the start of whatever this is?
It had been an unspoken agreement after that: different houses, same friendship. They sat together at mealtimes when they could, met up after classes, and claimed the same train compartment every year on the Hogwarts Express. Despite their house differences, the four of them just fit.
Then came Chenle.
He arrived a year later, a first-year clinging to Haechan like a lost chick despite his family being closer to Jaemin’s. “You’re supposed to be following me,” Jaemin had pointed out, half-joking.
“Yeah, but Hyuck’s funnier,” Chenle had replied with a grin, completely unbothered.
Jaemin had considered hexing him. He didn’t, of course—mainly because, after just a few days, it was impossible to not like Chenle. He was a walking storm of chaos, fearless in the way only a first-year could be, and somehow, that energy fit right in with them.
Jisung was the last to join.
Quiet, awkward, and a little overwhelmed by everything, he had been brought into the fold by Renjun, of all people. “He’s my Housemate,” Renjun had explained when he first introduced him. “And he’s normal, which is more than I can say for the rest of you.”
Jaemin had taken one look at the nervous first-year and grinned. “Give it time.”
And sure enough, it had just been a matter of time before Jisung had found himself in the middle of their usual antics—whether he liked it or not.
Now, years later, it was hard to imagine their group without him. Without any of them.