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The Great Hall buzzed with its usual Saturday noise, students chatting, books spread open alongside plates, owls occasionally swooping down with late mail.
Taeui was nibbling on toast, scribbling homework, and half-listening to Ilay’s voice reading over a Defense text beside him. All was calm.
Until Jeremy Wexley, a Slytherin seventh-year with too much hair gel and too little self-preservation, strutted up.
“Well, well,” Jeremy drawled, arms crossed, tone smug.
“Didn’t think the rumors were true. You’re actually letting him leash you, Riegrow?”
The entire table stilled. A spoon clinked to the floor. Even an owl paused mid-flight.
Ilay turned his head, slowly. That calm, cold violence behind his eyes was already blooming.
Taeui, without even looking up from his parchment, said flatly, “Don’t.”
Ilay’s hand had already twitched toward his wand.
Taeui stood up.
“I said don’t, Ilay,” Taeui repeated, loud enough now to turn heads. He met Ilay’s gaze.
“I’m handling this.”
That alone made several first-years gasp. Taeui Jeong, handling Ilay Riegrow’s temper?
Jeremy laughed, oblivious.
“Aw, what, you got him whipped now, Jeong? What kind of spell did you use—”
WHAM.
Taeui’s textbook slammed shut.
He walked up to Jeremy and looked up at him with the most infuriatingly sweet smile imaginable.
“Jeremy, you really wanna do this?” Taeui asked cheerfully.
“In front of professors, witnesses, and Ilay Riegrow, the same guy who turned a Bludger into shrapnel because someone sat in his seat?”
Jeremy blinked.
“I mean, do you want your nose where your knee should be? Or your teeth somewhere in your oatmeal?”
Jeremy looked uncertain now. Taeui kept smiling.
“Because I won’t stop him next time,” Taeui added softly.
“I’ll just say thank you. For the peace and quiet.”
Ilay, still seated, smirked. His fingers drummed lazily on the table. A predator is satisfied.
Jeremy mumbled something incoherent and quickly backed off.
The hall was quiet for three seconds.
Then Professor Chang-in, arms crossed, sipping tea with theatrical amusement—called out from the faculty table:
“Well, I’d say that confirms it.”
Professor Kyle didn’t even look up from his paper.
“They’re together. It’s not news anymore.”
Professor McGonagall adjusted her spectacles and muttered, “Frankly, I’m just glad Mr. Riegrow hasn’t hexed anyone all week. That boy’s a walking incident report.”
The students burst into quiet laughter. Ilay stood then, stepped behind Taeui, and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
Not possessive this time. Proud.
Taeui sat back down like nothing happened. Bit into his toast again.
Ilay leaned down, whispered just loud enough for him to hear,
“You’re terrifying when you’re mine.”
Taeui choked on the toast and elbowed him in the ribs.
Late Afternoon, Courtyard Sunlight
Ilay sat on one of the old stone benches, arms crossed, coat neatly folded beside him. His expression was unreadable until Taeui plopped down beside him with a loud sigh and a thunk of books.
“Hi,” Taeui chirped, bumping his shoulder against Ilay’s.
Ilay looked at him. The tightness in his jaw softened just a little.
“You’re late,” he muttered.
“You’re early,” Taeui countered, sticking out his tongue.
Then: “Did you glare at anyone while waiting?”
Ilay didn’t answer. Taeui stared.
“…Ilay.”
“I only looked,” Ilay said.
“With murder?”
“They walked too close.”
Taeui sighed, reached up, and casually tucked a lock of hair behind Ilay’s ear.
“You don’t have to murder people who breathe near me, you know.”
“I do,” Ilay said simply.
“No, you don’t. You can just trust me.” Taeui leaned against his shoulder now, voice gentler.
“I’m right here.”
Ilay’s whole body went still at the contact. Then his arm slowly circled around Taeui’s waist, pulling him close.
Not possessive this time. Protective.
“…Only for you,” he said quietly.
Common Room Couch, Late at Night
Ilay was curled up like a lazy cat, legs stretched out, and Taeui half-sprawled on top of him. His hands were in Taeui’s hoodie; he always had to be touching him somehow, but instead of groping, he was just... resting there.
Taeui looked up from the magazine he was flipping through.
“You didn’t hex Xinlu today.”
“He avoided you today,” Ilay replied with a straight face.
Taeui rolled his eyes and reached up to poke Ilay’s cheek.
“You didn’t even try to scare that fourth year who asked me for a quill.”
Ilay smirked. “Because you smiled at me after.”
Taeui blinked, lips parting a little.
“…You noticed that?”
Ilay looked down at him, fingers threading into Taeui’s hair now.
“I notice everything you do.”
Taeui’s cheeks went warm. He shoved the magazine against Ilay’s chest.
“Gross.”
Ilay caught his wrist, pulled it close, and pressed a kiss against his knuckles.
Great Hall, Breakfast
A first-year accidentally bumped into Taeui’s side, jolting his juice and nearly knocking over his toast.
Ilay stood up instantly.
Taeui, without even looking up, reached back and tugged Ilay’s sleeve.
“Sit.”
Ilay hesitated. Sat.
The first year trembled away.
Taeui calmly handed Ilay his tea.
“Good boy.”
Ilay stared at him, suspiciously pleased.
Courtyard, Late Afternoon
It started small. Just whispers.
“That psycho’s walking around again.”
“You mean Crazy Rick?”
“I heard he cursed his own cousin to the hospital. Wonder what spell he’d use on a boytoy…”
The laughter was low, biting. Taeui walked past the stone archway, paused, and turned around. Slow. Calm. Like he was just remembering something.
The group of older students barely noticed him approach.
“Hey,” Taeui said cheerfully, hands behind his back, voice breezy.
“Did I hear Ilay’s name?”
They turned, a little startled. Taeui smiled. Radiant as always.
One of them snorted.
“Yeah, we were just wondering how someone like you ended up with a nutcase like him.”
“Must be some kind of hostage situation.”
Another laughed.
“Or blackmail. Or he's just into freaks.”
Taeui tilted his head.
“Oh. I see.”
He took one step closer.
The air shifted.
Without touching his wand, Taeui raised a hand and flicked his fingers.
One of the boys collapsed, unconscious. Another let out a scream as his feet vanished from under him, slamming onto the cobblestones like a rag doll. The third tried to pull his wand, but it was already melting in his hand.
Taeui stood there, bathed in afternoon light, expression unreadable.
“I’m the only one who gets to call him crazy,” he said softly.
“And I do it with love.”
The last boy standing staggered back, terrified.
Taeui smiled again.
“Next time you speak about Ilay Riegrow, you'd better put respect on his name, or learn to cast spells from the floor.”
Another flick.
Silence.
Three boys, unconscious. One running.
Taeui dusted his hands and turned around, just in time to see a few students watching from the corridor.
Wide-eyed. Shocked.
One whispered, “That… was Taeui?”
“No way. He’s Hufflepuff’s puppy.”
“He smiles at teapots.”
Taeui just hummed to himself as he walked away.
Later, in the Library
Jaeui didn’t look up from his book as Taeui dropped into the chair beside him.
“…You really didn’t have to melt his wand,” Jaeui murmured.
Taeui leaned back with a sigh.
“He was rude.”
Jaeui finally looked at him, unimpressed.
“You could’ve reported them.”
“I could’ve,” Taeui said with a shrug, “but Ilay would’ve murdered them. I just... saved lives.”
Jaeui pinched the bridge of his nose.
“You’re impossible.”
Taeui grinned, pulling out a licorice wand.
“And cute.”
In Slytherin Common Room
Ilay heard the story by nightfall.
He didn’t smile.
But he did hum.
A low, satisfied sound.
Hogwarts Staff Room, Next Morning
The news hit like a Dungbomb.
Three upperclassmen—stretchered off the courtyard. Wands snapped, egos bruised, memories fuzzy. All unconscious. No signs of curses left behind. No wands used. No traceable magic.
Only one witness: “It was Jeong Taeui.”
The staff room, usually buzzing with morning chatter, was dead silent.
Professor McGonagall blinked behind her glasses.
“Jeong… Taeui?”
“Hufflepuff Jeong Taeui?” Professor Sprout repeated, blinking as though someone had misread a label on a plant.
“Darling boy. Very polite. Loves flobberworms.”
Snape scoffed.
“Impossible. That boy once tripped on a rug and apologized to the rug.”
Filius Flitwick tapped the report again.
“The eyewitness insists. Describes Taeui flicking his fingers and casting wandless magic. Advanced spellwork. Possibly non-verbal.”
“Jeong Taeui is the one who walks through doors,” muttered Vector.
“I once watched him say sorry to a staircase.”
The staff looked toward the corner of the room where Professor Jeong Chang-in was slowly sipping tea with the most exhausted look imaginable.
“Chang-in,” said McGonagall carefully, “do you happen to know what your nephew’s been studying?”
Chang-in didn’t even look up.
“He’s been reading Aramaic spell theory for fun.”
A pause.
“He’s also translated a restricted dueling codex. For light reading.”
A longer pause.
“...He’s the only one I’ve ever met who used a Disillusionment Charm on a bee to test sensory redirection.”
Everyone stared.
Snape’s eyes narrowed.
“So you’re telling us—”
“I’ve been telling you for years,” Chang-in cut in, flatly, “that boy is dangerous when provoked. Just because he smiles like a fool and pretends to be a Hufflepuff cliché doesn’t mean he doesn’t have teeth.”
“Then why pretend?” asked Flitwick, curious.
“Because it’s easier to be underestimated,” Chang-in said, finishing his tea with finality.
“And because he only shows that side when it’s worth it.”
There was another long silence.
Then McGonagall gave a faint smile.
“So… this was about Ilay?”
“Of course it was,” Chang-in and Snape said at the same time.
Later That Week
Taeui passed by a group of professors in the hall. They all greeted him just a bit more carefully.
“Good morning, dear,” Professor Sprout chirped, eyes slightly wide.
“Ah, Mr. Jeong,” said Flitwick, “excellent weather today! Not... cursing anyone, I hope?”
Taeui blinked.
“What?”
“Nothing! Nothing at all!”
He tilted his head, confused, and walked off.
Behind him, Chang-in sighed and muttered, “God help us if he ever really gets angry.”
Hidden Moments of Taeui’s Unseen Wrath
The Blackmail Letter – Burned Before It Reached Anyone
Some Slytherin fourth-year thought it was clever to dig into Ilay’s file, rumors of what happened at Durmstrang, half-truths stitched into blackmail. They planned to slip the letter under the library noticeboard.
It never got there.
That night, Taeui appeared at Slytherin's door. No one knew how he got in.
The student didn’t return to classes for a week. When he did, he looked like he’d seen a Banshee in his soup. Refused to look at Ilay. Flinched at the sight of Hufflepuffs.
“I burned the letter,” Taeui had said quietly before leaving, “but I can rewrite it… about you. Don't try again.”
The Whispered Gossip About Jaeui – Silenced
Jaeui had scored top marks again, but that came with whispers: favoritism, cheating, family connections. Jeong Taeui was just the sweet twin, so of course, Jaeui must be the favored one.
Until one night, every student who gossiped found their notes gone.
Their homework was reversed. Their potion vials are broken.
At the bottom of every cauldron was a note:
“If you can't match Jaeui, don't drag him down. Next time, your beds will vanish too.”
– J.T.
Taeui returned to the Hufflepuff common room and continued braiding daisy chains like nothing had happened.
A Hidden Duel – Taeui vs. A Prefect
A pompous prefect from Ravenclaw once said in passing: “I bet Ilay Riegrow only dates Jeong Taeui because no one else would have him.”
A few days later, that prefect requested a private duel to “settle some personal grievances.”
No one knew who it was against.
He never told anyone what happened. But he walked with a limp for a month, and avoided the Hufflepuff table like it was cursed.
Jaeui found Taeui the next day, sleeves rolled up, practicing Charms. He gave him a long look.
“…Should I ask?”
Taeui smiled brightly.
“Nope!”
The Hidden Test Answers
Ilay had gotten surprisingly high marks on a Defense test. Whispers flew: he must’ve cheated, no way Crazy Rick would waste time studying.
They didn’t know Taeui had spent every night the week before subtly tutoring Ilay between kisses, fights, and limbs tangled in sheets.
When the rumors spread too far, Taeui sent a quiet message to the gossip:
A challenge.
One-on-one duels. Against Ilay. In front of the professors.
They refused. Naturally.
And the rumors stopped.
Professor Chang-in Finds Out
Chang-in cornered Taeui in the corridor one day.
“You’ve been busy.”
Taeui blinked.
“Hm?”
“Don’t ‘hm’ me. Do you want me to intervene?”
Taeui’s eyes sharpened for a flash, dangerously intelligent, calculating beneath his playful mask.
“No. I can handle it. They’re mine.”
“‘They’ being?”
“My brother. My… Ilay.”
(A pause.)
“My mess to protect.”
Chang-in exhaled.
“You’re scarier than both of them put together.”
Taeui grinned.
“I know.”
It was nearly curfew.
Ilay had been looking for Taeui. Hufflepuff claimed he hadn’t returned after dinner, and Ilay, being Ilay, didn’t like not knowing where his partner was.
He found him just outside the Owlery.
Hidden in the shadows, Taeui stood with a Gryffindor sixth-year pressed against the cold stone wall. The older student looked terrified, back hunched, wand trembling in hand. Taeui’s wand wasn’t even out.
Ilay stayed quiet.
“Say it again,” Taeui’s voice was low, dangerous.
“Say that Ilay Riegrow doesn’t deserve to be here.”
“I—I didn’t mean it like that—”
“Oh, you didn’t?” Taeui took a step closer, and the air grew tight.
“Then you didn’t mean it when you said my lover belongs in Azkaban? You didn’t mean it when you said Jaeui’s only brilliant because of nepotism?”
The student stuttered.
Taeui raised a hand, fingers crackling faintly with raw magic, wandless magic, and Ilay saw it. The slight glow. The restraint.
Taeui was angry, and it was controlled. Lethal, but elegant.
“You can’t even protect your thoughts from slipping out of your mouth,” Taeui murmured.
“I suggest you protect your tongue better… or I’ll remove it next time.”
The boy whimpered.
Ilay didn’t move.
Then Taeui smiled, sweet, deadly.
“Run along.”
The student bolted.
Ilay stepped forward slowly, clapping once, softly.
Taeui froze. Turned. A flicker of panic in his eyes. Then resignation.
“You’re not supposed to see that,” he muttered.
Ilay tilted his head.
“You’ve been scaring people in my name, haven’t you?”
“No,” Taeui said flatly.
“In mine.”
Silence stretched. Then Ilay crossed the space between them, grabbed Taeui by the chin gently, and stared into his eyes.
“I knew you weren’t as soft as everyone thinks.” His voice dropped.
“But watching it? Watching you like that… Taeui, you’re stunning.”
Taeui blinked.
“You’re not mad?”
Ilay smiled, slow and wicked.
"Mad? No. Turned on? Terrifyingly.”
Taeui groaned.
“You’re so messed up.”
Ilay leaned in, breath brushing his cheek.
“So are you.”
Then, like nothing had happened, Taeui linked arms with him.
“Wanna go back to the dorms before Professor Chang-in senses my emotional instability?”
Ilay snorted.
“Lead the way, sunshine.”