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The "Sixth-Floor Study Club" was a product of Riku’s creation. As a 6th-year Ravenclaw, Riku viewed the upcoming N.E.W.T.s in the following year as something that would terrorise him all year if he did not start preparing in advance. The most logical solution was obviously a cross-year, inter-house study group. 

His first "recruit" was his boyfriend, Yushi. Yushi who was a 6th-year Slytherin had seen the value immediately. Riku’s structured schedules combined with Yushi's own materials were a good combination. Match made in heaven, if uou must. 

Their headquarters became the territory of the other 6th-year Slytherin, Sion. 

Sion was not invited, per se. He was always at a fixed spot of the library which was the secluded window-side table all the way in the back and Yushi, who shared a mutual respect (and a fierce rivalry) with Sion in Potions, was the first to sit at his table (with permission, obviously). Riku followed and Sion tolerated them. Yushi wasn't an idiot, and Riku’s colour-coded revision timetables were annoyingly brilliant. 

Riku’s logical expansion included the 5th years. He'd identified those who would benefit most from N.E.W.T.-level proximity: Sakuya, a Gryffindor whose bravery in Charms was, unfortunately, not matched by his theory, and Ryo, a Hufflepuff who was so earnest and hard-working he was in constant danger of burning out. Yushi insisted on looking out for them. 

And with Ryo and Sakuya, came Jaehee. 

Jaehee, Ryo's fellow Hufflepuff, hadn't been on Riku’s spreadsheet of recruits. He had simply materialized out of thin air one rainy Tuesday with a tin of handmade tarts and a smile so bright it was almost illogical. He hadn't asked to join (which Sion disapproved of). He had simply sat, offered everyone a tart, and appointed himself "Head of Group Morale." 

Within a month, he was the group's universally beloved member who baked tasty snacks to up their energy level and Sion, from the very first moment he laid eyes on the boy who was bigger and stronger than him (only physically), found him to be a critical flaw in Riku's perfect recruitment system. 

A cold November rain hammered at the high library windows, but all it did was make the smell of old books and floor polish feel like a shield for Sion who was completely lost in his work, his world shrunk to his desk along with the constant scratches of his quill over the parchment. He was in the process of finally untangling the thermal-inversion properties of Moonstone to the point where his hand started to cramp, but he didn't care. 

In another world, he felt like Megamind. 

Surrounding him, Sakuya and Ryo were softly muttering to each other and at the far end of the table, Yushi and Riku were reading together. It was peaceful. 

Then, the hinges of the library door creaked. 

Sion's shoulders instantly locked up to his ears. He didn't even have to look up. The loud happy whisper that followed the person’s entrance ended up shattering the quiet Sion was savouring just a moment ago and it ended up making his quill stop, leaving a tiny blob of ink on his notes. 

"Hi, guys! Sorry I'm late! Professor Sprout kept us after—" 

Sion didn't bother looking up, he heard the rustle of a bag, the thud of books on thet able, and then came the smell of cinnamon, sugar, and an overpowering woody scent. 

"Jaehee!" Ryo exclaimed, his face bright with relief. "About time," Sakuya grinned. "Did you bring it?" 

"Of course!" Jaehee announced, as if presenting a Nobel Prize. He bustled around the table, a paper bag crinkling. "Sakuya, Ryo, I saved you some pumpkin pasties from dinner! Riku-kun, Yushi-kun I got the last two Cauldron Cakes!" 

Jaehee, his good deeds distributed, finally arrived at Sion's end of the table. Sion was still writing, his hand not stopping, pointedly ignoring him. 

"Sion-hyung!" Jaehee’s voice was too loud and way too close for Sion’s liking. He leaned in and his large frame blocked the light from the window. Sion could feel the body heat radiating off him. "You're working so hard! You're always the most focused. It's amazing!" 

"A stunning analysis, Jaehee," Sion said, his voice bored. "It’s a shame your O.W.L.s won't be graded on your ability to state the blindingly obvious. You’d be top of your class." 

Sion's quill stopped. The scratching silence was deafening to him. Okay, he might have messed up. 

"Ah—I mean... I brought you one as well!" Jaehee said, with a hesitant smile. He pulled a pastry from the bag. It was a sticky, icing-drenched bun which had jam oozing from a gash in its side. With a big move, Jaehee set it... right on top of Sion's open reference textbook. 

Sion slowly, very slowly, looked up from his parchment. He didn't look at the bun, which was already leaving a greasy stain on a 14th-century text. He looked directly at Jaehee, his eyes so cold it put Elsa from another world to shame. 

"Jaehee," Sion’s voice was quiet and borderline dangerous. "Do you truly believe I have nothing better to do than clean jam off a diagram of a bezoar?" 

Jaehee's smile faltered, his face immediately flooding with wide-eyed panic. "Oh! Oh, Merlin's beard, hyung! I'm so sorry! I didn't even think! I just—" 

"Clearly," Sion cut him off. He vanished the bun with a short flick of his wand and cast a Scourgify on his book, his lips a thin line. 

Jaehee looked crushed and tears welled up in his wounded eyes. 

"Hey, back off, hyung!" Sakuya snapped. "He was just trying to be nice! It was an accident!" 

"It's okay, Saku-chan," Jaehee said, his voice small. He beamed at his defender. "Hyung is right! It was stupid of me." 

Riku looked up, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Sion, that really wasn’t necessary." 

Ryo, the other Hufflepuff, just looked miserable. "It's okay, Jaehee," he muttered, patting his friend's arm. "He's just stressed." 

Sion watched, his jaw tight. He was surrounded by idiots. A Gryffindor asking for a fight, a Hufflepuff trying to comfort someone, and a Ravenclaw trying to be judgemental of his completely valid reaction. 

He glanced at Yushi. His fellow Slytherin was watching the entire exchange, his head still on Riku's shoulder, a knowing and an amused smirk was playing on his lips. Yushi saw it. He saw the mess happen in front of him and he was enjoying it. 

That, somehow, was the most infuriating part of all. 

Jaehee, with his performance complete, slid into the seat between his two youngest defenders. He glanced back at Sion, his expression one of innocence. "I'll be quieter, hyung! I promise!" 

Sion just dipped his quill back in his ink, the sharp click of the nib against the glass the only sign of his fury. 

The next few weeks fell into a miserable routine. The N.E.W.T.s loomed, the weather grew colder, and Jaehee, somehow, grew nicer. His campaign of thoughtful gestures was relentless, and Sion’s patience wore thinner with every act of "kindness." 

Sion was in the Restricted Section, having finally secured a pass from Slughorn for an advanced Potions text. He was running his finger down the spines, searching for A-87, when a large shadow fell over him. 

"Whatcha lookin' for, hyung?" 

Sion flinched, nearly dropping his pass. Jaehee was beaming at him, holding a stack of his own books. 

"Merlin's beard, Jaehee, do you need to be this loud in the Restricted Section?" Sion hissed, his voice a low vibration of fury. "And I don't need help. I am literate." 

"Oh, right! Sorry!" Jaehee said, his voice dropping to a whisper that was somehow louder than his normal voice. "I just... I saw you from the main stacks and you looked a bit lost! Sometimes these numbers are tricky. I'll just... I'll let you get back to it. Sorry for bothering you!" 

He gave a small, awkward bow and practically ran from the aisle, his boots scuffing loudly on the stone floor. Madam Pince glared at Sion over her spectacles before vanishing back into the shelves. 

Sion exhaled slowly through his nose, grinding his teeth. 

He never understood why Jaehee would just beam and be completely unfazed by the numerous rejections Sion would hand him over on a silver plate and turn his 1000-watt "sweetness" on someone else.  

Why? 

Sion would always just sit there, quill gripped so tight his knuckles were white, and he would try to make sense of the nonsense of it all. 

Hypothesis 1: He's an idiot. Counter-argument: He wasn't. His O.W.L. prep was thorough. His Transfiguration theory was correct. 

 Hypothesis 2: He's just loud and clumsy. Counter-argument: Sakuya was louder, and Ryo was clumsier. Sion found them tiresome, but not like this. This was different. 

 Hypothesis 3: He's... what? 

That was the problem. There was no Hypothesis 3. 

It was just Jaehee. It was the smell of cinnamon and sugar that clung to him, invading Sion's space. It was the way he was always smiling but his huge grin felt like a lie to Sion. No one could be that happy and that kind all the time. It was a flaw and it felt wrong. 

Sion was a Slytherin. He prized efficiency, subtlety, and control. Jaehee was a walking, talking explosion of emotional, inefficient, uncontrolled... everything. 

He couldn't stand him. And he couldn't, for the life of him, figure out why the "sweetest" kid in the school made him want to hex a wall. It was a puzzle with no solution and god forbid, he tried finding out the answer. 

The group was packing up for the night. The annual Slytherin vs. Gryffindor match was the next day, and the students were practically buzzing with nervous energy. 

"You're all coming to the match, right?" Sakuya asked, practically bouncing as he stuffed his Gryffindor scarf into his bag. 

"Obviously," said Riku, "I've already pictured Yushi’s dives for the entire match and I’ve also imagined him holding the trophy a million times." 

Yushi rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "Just admit you like watching me." 

Jaehee turned his bright smile on the group's other Slytherin. "Are you going to be in the stands, Sion-hyung? We could all sit together! I'll bring snacks!" 

Sion paused, his bag half-zipped. He looked at Jaehee's hopeful and earnest face. He felt the urge to destroy that smile when he thought about two hours of forced cheering, Sakuya's yelling, and Jaehee's sticky-fingered snack-passing. 

"I would rather," Sion said, his voice flat, "set my own robes on fire." 

Ryo winced. Sakuya looked offended on Jaehee's behalf. Riku just sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, as if dealing with a child. 

Jaehee's smile didn't break, but it certainly became smaller. He just nodded, his puppy-dog tail visibly drooping. "Oh. Okay. Well... good luck studying, then!" 

As the group walked away, Sion could hear Yushi's low, appreciative chuckle. "Damn," Yushi muttered to Riku, "you've got to admit, that was rather a tame line." 

Riku just shushed him, putting an arm around Jaehee's shoulders. "Don't worry about him, Jaehee-yah. He's just having mood swings." 

Jaehee leaned into the friendly hug, but his eyes darted back to where Sion stood, alone in the aisle. The "hurt" look was no longer there, but a sick and twisted smirk took its place. 

Sion shivered at the sight of it.  

“What the hell?” 

The next day came, and the group had reconvened in the library where Sakuya was already loudly dissecting the match, "Did you see that Bludger hit? He nearly took his head off!"  

"As long as no one really got hurt, right?" Ryo chimed in.  

"It was a good and a clean game." Riku, naturally, was already in his own world, muttering about why the new brooms were aerodynamically flawed.  

Across from them all, Yushi was insufferable. He hadn't said a word. He was just leaning back in his chair, polishing his tiny gleaming Seeker's medal with a smug smile that said Slytherin won better than any words could. 

Sion, in short, was in hell. He had his textbook open, but the noise barely let him get past two lines of a paragraph without him rereading it at least three times. 

The door burst open, and Jaehee entered carrying a steaming tin.  

"I did it!" he announced, his face glowing. "Fresh-baked cookies for everyone!" 

The room erupted. This was Jaehee's time to shine. He placed the tin in the center of the table and lifted the lid and god, did it smell amazing. 

"Okay, okay!" he laughed, fending off Sakuya's grabby hands. "I made everyone's favorites. Sakuya, double chocolate, extra-large. Ryo, oatmeal-raisin, just how you like. Riku and  Yushi, I made those snickerdoodles with the hint of cinnamon you both liked last time..." 

He handed out the cookies like the perfect Hufflepuff, until only one person was left. 

He approached Sion's corner, and Sion still hadn't looked up. He was the walking personification of a physical "do not disturb" sign with the way his shoulders were high and tight and his jaw clenched. 

"Sion-hyung?" Jaehee said, his voice softer. "I made yours, too." 

Sion’s quill continued to move. 

"I know you don't like things too sweet," Jaehee continued, his voice earnest, "so I made you these simple sugar biscuits. They're supposed to be Snidgets... but they came out a little plain..." 

Sion looked up to see what Jaehee was giving him and saw raw dough that barely resembled a cookie. 

"No," Sion stood up slowly. He picked up the raw cookie. It was cold and sticky. "You are too sweet, Jaehee. How can I ever thank you?" 

Jaehee’s smile started growing slowly till Sion dropped the cookie into Jaehee’s open palm. Splat. 

"Eat it." 

The room gasped. 

"Eat. It." Sion snarled, stepping closer, his eyes wild. "If it's made with so much love and care, you eat it. Show me how good it is." 

Jaehee stared at him. Sion saw the crazed look in Jaehee's eyes. The excitement of being commanded. 

"I..." Jaehee stammered, looking at Riku for help. "I can't... I don’t think I can..." 

"Exactly," Sion spat. "You treat me like garbage, and you expect me to wag my tail for you? You're a manipulative little parasite." 

"Sion!" Riku shouted, standing up. "That was mean. Apologize." 

Sion tore his eyes away from Jaehee’s face and looked at Riku, irritated. "For what? Stating a fact?" 

"That was a low-blow, man, what is wrong with you?" Sakuya snapped. "He’s literally the human embodiment of a golden retriever; how can you hate him?" 

Sion didn’t even blink. He looked over Sakuya’s shoulder, locking eyes with Jaehee.  

"A golden retriever? Please," Sion scoffed. "Retrievers are bred to serve. This isn't a pet, Sakuya. It’s a mutt who doesn’t know manners." 

He took a step closer to Jaehee, his eyes dark. 

"He thinks if he jumps on me enough, I'll submit. He thinks he can put his paws on me and I’ll be okay with it." Sion curled his lip in a sneer. "Someone needs to put a choke chain on him and pull it tight until he remembers he's the one who belongs on his knees." 

Oh god. 

Ryo, clearly startled by Sion’s response, “Sion—” 

Jaehee shouldered his bag. He looked at Ryo, and his face crumpled—now the tears came, but Sion didn’t like the fact that he said something so mean which made Jaehee cry. Yes, he’s a sick person who wanted Jaehee to cry but he did not mean for it to happen this way.  

"It's okay, Hyung’s right." He was choking up. "I think I should go." 

He turned and fled the room. 

"Jaehee, wait!" Ryo and Sakuya scrambled up, both of them running after him, their chairs clattering against the floor. 

Sion was left in the suddenly quiet room with Riku and Yushi. 

"You know, Sion," Riku said, his voice flat as he began packing his own things. "For someone who values logic and sense, you are incredibly stupid when it comes to people. I have nothing to say to you." He motioned to his boyfriend. "Come on, Yushi." 

Yushi, however, hadn't moved. He was watching Sion with a strange curiosity. He looked at the door Jaehee had fled through, then back at Sion. 

"You really did it this time, didn't you?" Yushi murmured. 

"He's disruptive," Sion bit out, though his voice lacked its usual conviction. 

"He's not," Yushi corrected, his voice losing its playfulness for once. "And I think you just broke him. That's not smart, Sion. That's just sloppy. If you wanted to break him, you should’ve just played by his rules." 

Yushi shook his head and followed his boyfriend out of the room. 

Sion was left alone in the quiet study room, surrounded by the smell of cookies he hadn't even wanted. He didn’t get the feeling of victory like he wanted. 

The silence in the study room was an ugly thing.  

The group continued to meet up but there was less of talking and more of quiet and awkward silence that lasted for hours together which Sion didn’t understand because sure, they were mad at him, but they didn’t have to force themselves to come every day. 

Yushi, almost like he read Sion’s mind, asked quietly, “Do you think he will come today?” 

Sakuya responded with a shrug. 

For three days after the incident, Jaehee was gone.  

On the fourth day, Jaehee returned. 

He entered quietly, his usual bounce gone. He looked smaller. He went straight to Riku. 

"Riku-kun," he said, his voice just loud enough for the table to hear. "Sorry for not showing up but I needed some time. It was immature of me, so I'll just be quieter." 

It was a wonderful performance, Sion mentally gave Jaehee a standing ovation. Riku's entire expression softened. "Jaehee, you have nothing to apologize for. You're allowed to have feelings." 

Sakuya and Ryo immediately pulled Jaehee into a group hug. "We missed you, hyung!" Sakuya said, glaring daggers over Jaehee's shoulder at Sion. 

Then, Jaehee did the last thing Sion expected. He approached Sion's end of the table. 

"Sion-hyung," Jaehee said, his voice soft. "I'm sorry I was a distraction. I'll be better. I won't bother you again." 

Sion just stared. It was absolutely fucked up, if Sion could curse out loud. By apologising in front of everyone, Jaehee had cemented Sion's role as the villain and Jaehee’s as the gracious victim who was willing to give their so-called friendship another try. 

The next day, Jaehee was back in "Snack Coordinator" mode, but hie was a lot more mellow now. He passed out snacks quietly without talking about how long it took him to bake them or what ingredients he used to come up with the goodies. He used to get Sion his favourite ones until that day. 

He tapped Sion's elbow. "Hyung," he whispered, as if not to disturb him. "I wanted to make it up to you. I went to Honeydukes and I got this for you, please let me make it up to you?" 

He held out a small, elegant-looking bar. "Dark Chocolate with Chili. I think Yushi-kun said this was your favourite?" 

Sion froze. He loathed dark chocolate. He despised spicy food. His favourite was simple, standard, milk-chocolate Honeydukes. A fact he'd explicitly stated during a group discussion on O.W.L. study snacks. A fact everyone, including Jaehee, knew. 

"I hate dark chocolate, though? Yushi isn’t always right, you know," Sion replied. 

Jaehee's face sported a reaction that Sion felt satisfied looking at. "Oh," he whispered, "Oh, no. I must have misheard. Yushi-hyung, did I...?" 

Yushi, who had been watching the entire exchange over his book, just shrugged. “It was probably my mistake,” a tiny, evil smirk playing on his lips. 

"I'm so sorry," Jaehee said, pulling the bar back, looking utterly mortified. "I'm so stupid. I'll just throw it away." 

"No, wait," Ryo said, his Hufflepuff heart breaking. "It was a nice thought, Jaehee." He looked at Sion with open disappointment. "Sion, he's trying. You don't have to be a jerk about it." 

"He's right," Riku added, not looking up from his notes. "Positive intentions were there, Sion. Just accept the offering and move on. Don't make it complicated." 

Sion was trapped. He was, once again, the ungrateful friend. "Fine," he bit out, snatching the bar from Jaehee's hand and shoving it in his bag, where it would remain until he could melt it in the dungeon's fireplace. 

Jaehee gave him a small and a satisfied smile that made Sion get goosebumps. 

Two days later, Sion was deep in the Arithmancy stacks. He was finally making progress on a complex N.E.W.T. equation. 

A chair scraped the floor nearby. Of course, it had to be Jaehee. 

He didn't say a word. He just sat, opened his book, and began to study. Sion was suspicious, but the silence was... acceptable but he had spoken too soon. 

A tiny and breathy humming. It was a simple and a repetitive tune from a song that they’d learned in their first year, one Sion particularly loathed. It wasn't loud. It was like a mosquito-like whine near his ear, quiet enough to be deniable and loud enough to make the numbers on his parchment swim. 

Sion's quill stopped. Hmm-hmm-hmm, dee-doo, hmm-hmm-hmm... He waited. It stopped. He put his quill back to the parchment. Hmm-hmm-hmm, dee-doo... 

"Could you stop?" Sion hissed, his voice a vibration of pure fury. 

Jaehee jumped, his eyes wide and mortified. "Oh, my gosh, hyung! I didn't even notice I was doing it! Was I being loud? I'm so sorry! This stupid song just gets stuck in my head. I'll be quiet. I'm so sorry." 

He hunched over his book, sheepish and rueful. 

Ryo gave Sion a "c'mon, man" look. "He was just humming, Sion. We're all allowed to breathe." 

And just like that, Sion's concentration was gone with the wind along with the thought process that he had while trying to solve his equation. He looked at Jaehee, who was now studying with such intensity tjat could fool anybody, but it didn’t fool Sion who noticed that Jaehee hadn’t moved past the acknowledgment page of the textbook. He really looked completely innocent. 

The final act of "kindness" was the one that broke him. 

Sion had been working for three straight hours on his Potions mastery charts. They were a complex, multi-page series of cross-referenced ingredients, moon phases, and brewing times. He had them laid out perfectly across the table and formed a map of his N.E.W.T. project. He stood up to get a reference book from a shelf not ten feet away. 

He was gone for less than a minute. 

When he returned to the table, he saw that Jaehee was in his spot. 

"Hi, hyung!" Jaehee whispered, beaming. "I saw all your papers were all over the place! I was so worried one would fall off the table, or that Sakuya would spill ink on them. So, I tidied them for you!" 

Jaehee gestured to his work proudly. Sion's charts—his meticulous, three-hour project—were no longer in a map. Instead, they were in a neat and single perfectly aligned stack. 

Sion's face went white. The blood drained from his face. 

"You... what?" 

"I just stacked them! To keep them safe!" Jaehee's smile began to falter, sensing the change in the air. "Oh my god, did I mess up? I didn't... I just wanted to help!" 

Sion was shaking. Three hours of work was now a jumbled and a useless mess. It is now neatly piled up together, for god’s sake! He couldn't speak. He just stared at the stack, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. 

"Sion?" Jaehee said, his voice now full of worry. "Hyung? Are you okay? You look really white right now." 

“Jaehee, you—” 

"He was just cleaning up, Sion!" Sakuya interrupted from his chair, seeing the look on Sion's face and knowing damn well that whatever Sion had to say would ruin everyone’s day. "Merlin, he didn't know your crazy system!" 

"Sion," Riku chimed in, his voice clipped with impatience. "It was a simple mistake." 

Don't cause a scene. It was a simple mistake. He was just trying to help. 

Sion looked at Jaehee. Jaehee was looking back, his eyes wide, his lip trembling, the perfect picture of an innocent Hufflepuff who had just tried to do a nice thing. 

And Sion finally understood. He wasn't being bullied. This wasn't bullying. Bullying was supposed to be loud and emotional. Bullying was an antagonist shoving you in a corridor. Bullying was clumsy. 

This was art. 

 He was being hunted. And he was the only one who could see the wolf. 

It sounded so dramatic that it almost made him laugh but it made him miserable knowing there’s no way out of this situation if he didn’t back off and let Jaehee go. Just like Yushi said, he had to play by Jaehee’s rules. 

A hunter learns its prey. Jaehee had studied Sion; he knew Sion's triggers: a hatred of noise, a need for personal space, a distaste of sticky surfaces, and, above all, a physical revulsion to uncertainty. 

A clumsy person would have spilled ink on the charts. That would have been an obvious offense. But Jaehee had tidied them. He had performed an act of "kindness" that was, in its effect, more destructive than a pot of ink ever could be but it was disguised as "help." 

A hunter isolates its prey. With every nice gesture, Jaehee had masterfully cut Sion off from the group. He had used his Hufflepuff shield, and Sion's own Slytherin reputation to turn everyone against him. Riku now viewed Sion’s outbursts as stupid, Sakuya and Ryo saw him as a bully. And Yushi just saw him as a fool who'd lost a cleverly thought-out game. 

It was a thousand tiny annoyances. Each one, on its own, was nothing. He'd sound like a paranoid lunatic if he complained. "He gave me the wrong candy." "He was humming." But all of them, one after another, day after day, were winding him tighter and tighter, until he felt like a spring coiling, just waiting to snap. 

And he had. He had snapped about the cookies. He had provided the exact reaction Jaehee had been baiting him for. 

Sion looked at the boy in front of him, the so-called victim who was trembling for his audience, but he was the only one who could see the wolf. 

He saw the calculative and brilliant mind behind those eyes. He saw the predator that had identified him as the only one in the group who wouldn't be fooled by the act, other than Yushi who only cared about his boyfriend. And he saw Jaehee had decided to do something about him. Not by force, obviously.  

This whole time, Sion had been fighting for his sanity. 

The anger drained away, Sion was tired of the mind games. 

He had been playing checkers but Jaehee had truly been playing mind chess. 

All right, Sion thought, his eyes locking on Jaehee's, a silent promise passing between them that no one else in the room could feel. The game is on. 

Sion took a slow and a calming breath. He did not yell. He did not cause a scene. 

He simply picked up the stack of his papers and turned to Jaehee. 

"You're right, Sakuya," Sion said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "It was my mistake. I shouldn't have left them out." 

Jaehee, who was watching him, his facade faltered in confusion at the lack of an explosion. 

"Thank you, Jaehee," Sion said, his voice like chipped ice. "That was incredibly thoughtful of you to help me." 

He turned, and walked out of the room, leaving the group in silence. 

The cold war had been waging for a week and Sion was, to be frank, very exhausted. 

He still hasn't exploded and it’s taking everything in him not to. His realization—that Jaehee was genuinely crazy and a Slytherin at heart—had armed him. But it had also drained him. He'd met every kindness with a polite "thank you" that offered no benefit of doubt. He’d accepted the wrong-flavored snacks with a dead-eyed "how considerate" and tidied his own workspace that left no room for "help." 

The rest of the group, blind to the storm brewing in front of them, was just relieved the tension was gone. 

But the performance was wearing on them both. 

It was late, raining again, the sound pattering against the high library windows. The study room was empty, save for the two of them. The rest of the group—Riku, Yushi, Sakuya, and Ryo—had cleared out an hour ago. 

Sion was packing his bag, his movements sluggish with fatigue. He was just zipping the final pocket when Jaehee’s voice, quiet and no longer nice cut through the silence. 

"You're not any fun like this, hyung." 

Sion stopped, his hand on the zipper. He slowly turned. 

Jaehee was standing by the table, his arms crossed. The happy Jaehee was gone. Now, he looked tired and frustrated. 

"Fun?" Sion's voice was flat. "Is that what this was? A game?" 

"It was," Jaehee admitted. "Do you have any idea how boring it is, being the sweet one? They don't even see me. I mean sure, they’re wonderful friends and they help me with everything, but they think I’m nice and that I can never hurt a fly. In fact, they really do see me as a dog." 

He took a step closer, his pupils dilating and dark. This was a side of Jaehee’s that no one has ever seen. 

"But not you. You looked through it all. You hated me. It was the most honest thing anyone has ever given me to play with." Jaehee let out a breathless laugh. "I didn't just want to annoy you, hyung. I wanted to see you break. I wanted to be the reason you lost that precious control. And you did. You looked so crazy over a stupid fucking cookie. It was beautiful." 

Sion stared. This was obsession. 

"You're sick," Sion whispered, but he didn't move away. 

"And you liked it, like a freak," Jaehee countered, his voice dropping to a filthy whisper. "You liked being the only one smart enough to catch me in my act until you stopped because you understood what I was trying to do. You became boring. You took my toy away, hyung." Jaehee pouted at Sion. 

"You quite literally had it out for me," Sion stated.  

"No, I didn’t, I just prodded you," Jaehee corrected. "I wanted to see what you'd do. And you did exactly what I thought you would. You got angry. You looked crazy. You proved I was the 'victim'." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It was perfect." 

Sion watched him, it all made sense now.  

"So, what now?" Sion asked. "You go back to being the puppy everybody loves?" 

Jaehee let out a small huff of a laugh. "God, no. I'm so tired. I’ll become normal soon." He paused, taking a moment to make a decision. "One last try. Just to be sure." 

He dug into his pocket. He held out his hand. 

In his palm sat a bright-yellow Lemon Drop. The one candy in the entire world Sion had always hated. It was the most blatant insult to anyone on earth, offered to him as a final test. 

It seemed like the world held its breath, waiting for either one to make a move. The rain outside seemed to muffle the outside, leaving the two of them in silence. The Lemon Drop sat in Jaehee's palm like a tiny yellow sun. 

Sion’s mind was a mess. He had been so sure of his anger, so certain of his delusions that were confirmed as reality. But this felt like a confession so fucked up that only the both of them understood. Jaehee hadn’t been trying to drive him away; he had been trying to draw him in, using the only language he knew Sion would pay attention to: annoyance. 

Sion looked from the candy to Jaehee’s eyes. He saw the hunger there for a reaction. Jaehee wanted him to spit it out. He wanted Sion to snap. 

Sion wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of a snap. He was going to give him something worse. 

Slowly and deliberately, Sion reached out. 

His fingers brushed against Jaehee’s palm as he picked up the Lemon Drop, lingering over the pulse point in his wrist which was hammering against the skin. 

Sion didn't break eye contact. He unwrapped the cellophane. 

Jaehee’s breath caught in his throat. He watched, mesmerized, as Sion brought the candy to his lips. Teasing Jaehee, he pressed it against his bottom lip, before sliding it onto his tongue. It tasted like every moment of humiliation Jaehee had put him through. 

Sion didn't flinch, at least he tried not to. He sucked on it, his cheeks hollowing slightly, eyes locked on Jaehee. He swallowed the sour saliva and forced himself to endure it, to consume the insult. 

Sion heard the comically loud gulp of Jaehee’s when he saw him looking at his now moist lips. Sion’s jaw tightened and he just stood there, letting the flavour flood his senses. Then, underneath the aggressive citrus, a syrupy sweetness began to emerge. 

Bitter, then sweet. An insult that was secretly an offering. 

Sion finally broke his gaze, turning to pack the last of his scrolls into his bag. He worked quickly, the small clicks of the Lemon Drop against his teeth the only sound he made. 

Jaehee was speechless. He had expected everything but that. He had expected Sion to storm out. He had even, on some level, expected a hex. He had never, in any scenario he’d run in his head, imagined acceptance. 

Sion finally zipped his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He turned back to Jaehee, who was still standing there, looking utterly and wonderfully thrown off his game. 

"Puppy," Sion said mockingly, the sour tang of the candy sharpening his words. "You have my attention." 

He took a step closer, and for the first time, Jaehee was the one who felt the instinct to step back. 

"Now what?" Sion asked. "You wanted a reaction, right? Daeyoung-ah?" Sion asked, his voice low, roughened by the sour candy. 

He reached out and grabbed Jaehee by the tie, yanking him down until their faces were inches apart. The smell of cinnamon was overwhelming. 

"You spent months fucking around with me," Sion hissed. "But you forgot one thing. You will bear the consequences." 

He let go of the tie with a shove. Jaehee stumbled back, gasping. 

"You have my attention now," Sion said, his lip curling into a sneer. "And I'm not going to be nice about it." 

"Good," Jaehee breathed out, his voice shaking. 

Sion walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the handle. He glanced back. Jaehee looked ruined, flushed and utterly desperate. A sick man. 

"And Jaehee?" 

"Yeah?" Jaehee’s voice cracked. 

"Stop acting like a Hufflepuff around me from now on. It’s pathetic," Sion spat. Then, his eyes raked over Jaehee's form, lingering on the way Jaehee was leaning against the table for support. "Be a good puppy and wait for me tomorrow. Don't make me come find you." 

He walked out, slamming the door.  

Jaehee stood alone in the silence. Almost immediately, his knees gave out. He slumped against the table, his breath coming in short gasps. His heart was hammering against his ribs. 

He brought a hand up to his mouth, pressing his knuckles against his lips where he could almost taste the ghost of the lemon drop. 

A shiver racked his spine, traveling all the way down to the heavy and aching pressure in his groin. He looked down, letting out a hysterical laugh. He was hard. painfully, embarrassingly hard. 

"Fuck," Jaehee groaned, tilting his head back against the wood. He was the one desperate to be bitten. 

Sion stormed into the dorms, throwing his bag onto his bed with enough force to knock a pillow off. He was flushed, his skin prickling, his blood boiling with a mix of rage and something darker. 

Yushi didn't even look up from his books. "Did you run? You're sweating." 

"Shut up," Sion snapped, tearing off his tie. 

"Oh," Yushi smirked, finally turning to look at him. He scanned Sion's flushed face and the wild look in his eyes. "So, the dog finally bit back?" 

Sion froze, shirt half-unbuttoned. "You knew." 

"I knew he was bored, and I knew you were repressed," Yushi shrugged, looking entirely too amused. "I figured if I let him torment you, you'd eventually either kill him or..." Yushi gestured vaguely at Sion's dishevelled state. "...this." 

"He's sick," Sion muttered, pacing the room. "He's manipulative, obsessive, and completely unhinged." 

"And yet," Yushi pointed out, "you're not writing a report to the headmaster. You're pacing around the room trying to hide a boner." 

Sion grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. "He thinks he won. He thinks he has it under control." 

"And?" 

Sion stopped pacing. He touched his tongue to the roof of his mouth, where the sour taste of lemon still lingered. A twisted satisfaction settled in his chest. 

"And," Sion whispered, "I'm going to make him regret doing this." 

Yushi smiled, turning back to his books. "Finally. just put a silencing charm on the door next time you bring him here. I don't want to hear him beg.” 

The weeks that followed were a masterclass in gaslighting. To the naked eye—specifically the oblivious eyes of Riku, Sakuya, and Ryo—the study club had entered a golden age of peace. Sion wasn't snapping anymore. Jaehee wasn't running out in tears. 

They sat together now. Close. Too close. 

It was a constant game of chicken, a silent battle for dominance played out in whispers that sounded like praise but hit like punches to the gut which Jaehee enjoyed a bit too much. 

And Yushi, watching from the sidelines (if Sion ever wanted help), was the only one enjoying the show with a bag of popcorn (metaphorically speaking). 

The room was quiet, save for Riku lecturing Sakuya on the importance of wand flexibility. Jaehee was sitting next to Sion. Not just near him but against him. He spread his legs wide so that his thigh pressed against Sion’s smaller one. It was supposed to be a claim but Sion was no bitch to accept it. 

Sion didn't move his leg away. Instead, hidden by the long tablecloth, Sion’s foot moved. He brought the hard heel of his dragon-hide boot down, grinding it directly into the arch of Jaehee’s foot. 

Jaehee’s breath hitched, a sharp intake of air that sounded like a gasp. His quill jerked, ruining his sentence. 

"You okay, Jaehee?" Ryo asked, looking up from his essay. 

Jaehee’s knuckles were white as he gripped the table, a flush rising up his neck. He looked at Sion. Sion didn't look back; he just pressed his heel down harder, a silent command to move. 

Jaehee didn't move. In fact, he leaned in closer, his shoulder bumping Sion’s, forcing the Slytherin to brace himself to keep his writing steady. He smiled at Ryo, his voice tight and strained. 

"I'm fine, Ryo. Just... got a cramp. Sion-hyung is helping me stretch." 

Sion’s lip curled. He removed his foot, but only to slide his hand under the table. He gripped Jaehee’s thigh hard. His fingers dug into the muscle, nails forming crescent like shapes under the trousers, squeezing with bruising force. 

"Posture, Jaehee," Sion murmured, his voice ice-cold but loud enough for the group. "Sit up straight so that you can think straight." 

"Sorry, Hyung," Jaehee whispered, turning his head so his breath was hot against Sion’s neck. "Discipline me later?" 

Sion’s hand tightened until he felt Jaehee’s leg tremble. 

"Sion's right," Riku nodded approvingly, not looking up from his notes. "Ergonomics are vital for brain function." 

Across the table, Yushi choked on his pumpkin juice, covering his mouth to hide a laugh. 

Riku had no idea what was going on and that’s what made him endearing. 

The group had colonized a corner of the Ravenclaw table. Jaehee had a bright red and crisp apple. He wasn't eating it. He was slicing it with a small silver knife. 

"Here, Hyung," Jaehee said, his voice dripping with that sickening fake sweetness. He held out a slice. "Vitamin C. You look pale." 

Sion looked at the slice. Then at Jaehee’s taunting eyes. It was a test. Be a good boy and eat. 

Sion didn't take the slice with his hand. 

He leaned forward and locked eyes with Jaehee, and opened his mouth. He bit the apple slice directly from Jaehee’s fingers, but he didn't stop at the fruit. His teeth scraped deliberately against the pads of Jaehee’s fingers, hard enough for him to feel it and soft enough to be obscene for the both of them. 

He pulled back and chewed slowly, swallowing while holding Jaehee’s gaze. 

Jaehee sat frozen, his hand still in the air. His pupils were blown wide. He stared at his own wet fingers, then at Sion’s mouth. 

"Gross, guys," Sakuya laughed, shoving a sandwich into his mouth. "Use a fork, you savages." 

Sion licked his lip, catching a drop of juice. "It's a little sour," he said to Jaehee, his voice low. "Pick a better one next time." 

Jaehee dropped the knife. His hands were shaking too much to hold it. Under the table, his knee knocked frantically against Sion’s. Yushi, sitting opposite them, simply formed a silent 'gag' motion with his finger and throat to Sion, though he was clearly amused. 

Potions class was where the lines really blurred. 

They were partners and Jaehee was chopping Valerian roots like a toddler which pissed Sion off. It was uneven, messy, and the juices were running everywhere. He knew Sion’s obsession with perfection, and he was laying down the trap. 

"You're butchering it," Sion snapped, watching the mess accumulate. 

"I can't help it," Jaehee sighed, looking helpless. "My hands are just too big for this little knife. Maybe you should show me?" 

Sion moved behind Jaehee. 

He pressed his chest against Jaehee’s back, effectively caging him against the workbench. He reached around, his smaller hands covering Jaehee’s large ones on the knife handle. To the class, it looked like instruction but in reality, Sion was digging his chin into Jaehee’s shoulder, and his body was a heavy weight. He guided Jaehee’s hands with aggressive, jerky movements. 

"You are incompetent," Sion whispered into Jaehee’s ear, the words unheard to Slughorn but deafening to Jaehee. "You're useless. You can't even hold a knife without making a mess." 

Jaehee leaned back into the touch, his head lolling slightly to the side to give Sion better access to his neck. "Then control me, hyung. Make me do it right." 

Sion, disgusted, twisted the knife forcing Jaehee’s wrist to bend at a painful angle. "Focus," he hissed. "Or I'll chop your fingers off next." 

"Promise?" Jaehee breathed. 

"Excellent stance, boys!" Slughorn boomed as he walked past. "Wonderful peer tutoring, Sion!" 

Sion pulled away abruptly, leaving Jaehee gripping the edge of the table, flushed and panting as if he’d just run a mile. 

None of them brought it up to each other. 

The study session ended late, and the corridor back to the dungeons was empty. Sakuya and Ryo had run ahead to the kitchens, Riku was walking Yushi back, and Sion and Jaehee were trailing behind. 

The moment they turned a corner into a dark alcove, Jaehee grabbed Sion’s wrist and slammed him back against the stone wall. Hard. 

"You were staring at my hands the entire time in Potions," Jaehee accused, his voice rough. "You pervert." 

Sion didn't flinch. He grabbed a handful of Jaehee’s hair and yanked his head back, exposing his throat. "And you were acting stupid just to get me to touch you. You're pathetic." 

"Did it work?" Jaehee challenged, pressing his hips into Sion’s, making the state of his poor and painful boner undeniably clear. 

Sion sneered, but his other hand came up to grip Jaehee’s waist, digging in. "Go back to your dorm, Daeyoung-ah." 

"Make me." 

Sion let go of his waist and reached into his pocket and pulled out the wrapper of a Lemon Drop; he kept them now, like trophies. He shoved the crinkled paper into Jaehee’s mouth, gagging him effectively. 

"Chew on that," Sion whispered. "And don't come find me until you've cooled off." 

He shoved Jaehee away and walked off down the corridor, adjusting his robes. 

Yushi was waiting for him by the dungeon entrance. He looked at Sion rubbing his red wrists—which he hadn't had five minutes ago—and the dishevelled collar of his shirt. 

"I hope you know what you’re doing," Yushi noted casually. 

"I'm managing a pest," Sion sighed, though his voice was breathless. 

"Right," Yushi drawled. "Just remember, Sion. If you keep feeding the stray, it's going to follow you home. And I'm not cleaning up the mess for you." 

Sion touched his wrist, wincing at the sting. "He wouldn't dare." 

Yushi laughed humorouslessly. "He's a Hufflepuff who realized he likes pain. He'll dare to do anything." 

“We’ll see.” 

Yushi was half-right. 

Jaehee did like the pain. When Sion twisted his wrist in Potions, or shoved that wrapper into his mouth in the corridor, it didn't hurt him a bit, rather he felt grounded in a very fucked up sense. It made him feel real. 

But Yushi was wrong about the dynamic. He thought Jaehee was just a masochist following a sadist. 

He was wrong. 

That night in the corridor, when the wrapper was crumpled on his tongue, Jaehee stayed there against the cold stone wall watching Sion walk away. He replayed the moment in his head, but not the part where Sion won. 

He replayed the split second before. 

He remembered grabbing Sion and slamming him back. And what stuck with him was how easy it was. 

Sion hadn't braced himself. He had stumbled and hit the wall with a hollow thud that betrayed just how light he really was. 

Jaehee looked at his own hand, flexing the fingers. He remembered the feel of Sion’s wrist under his grip. It was thin and delicate.  

He was trembling, Jaehee realized, the thought hitting him like a truck. He acts like a god, but that’s all he is. A good actor. 

The "scary Slytherin" was a bluff. 

Sion was mean because he had to be. He was aggressive because if he wasn't, people would realize that physically, he was probably one of the easiest target in the school. 

A twisted sense of excitement curled in Jaehee’s gut. Jaehee didn’t care about getting a reaction out of Sion anymore, he’s more curious as to what would happen if he pushed Sion beyond his limits.  

If Sion was just pretending to be the master... what would happen if Jaehee stopped pretending to be the dog? 

He didn't need to be careful anymore. He didn't need to worry about Sion hurting him, because he realized Sion couldn't hurt him—not really. Not unless Jaehee let him. 

Jaehee pushed himself off the wall, spitting the wrapper onto the floor. He was going to push, and push, and push, until he finds the exact point where Sion’s bark turns into a whimper. 

And over the next three days, the three realizations (or the insights that he gathered by keeping an eye on him) hit him, confirming everything he suspected. 

• Sion is physically breakable. 

Between classes, the Grand Staircase was its usual mess—shifting steps, people yelling over each other, robes everywhere. Sion stuck close to the railing, trying to read a scroll as he walked, clearly assuming the crowd would make way for him the way they usually did. 

Except they didn’t. 

A fourth-year Gryffindor turned too quickly, his overloaded backpack swinging out like a door. It slammed into Sion’s shoulder, hard enough to knock him off balance. His foot slipped on the stone, and the next thing he knew, he was falling backward over the staircase. 

There was an awful drop in his stomach— 

Then a hand grabbed the back of his robes. 

Just one clean pull. 

Jaehee, who had been walking behind him, hauled him forward with an ease that showed how physically fit and reflexive Jaehee was as a person. 

Sion collided with him, both hands flying to Jaehee’s arms to keep himself upright. His heart was racing while his breath caught in his throat. Jaehee’s arm was around his waist, steady, grounding him while the staircase kept groaning and the crowds kept streaming past. 

For a second, neither of them said anything. 

Jaehee’s grip loosened, but he didn’t step back yet. His brows were drawn together slightly, not in annoyance—just taking in the feel of Sion’s weight. Or lack of it. 

He hadn’t expected him to be that light. Sion always carried himself like he took up more room than he did, but in Jaehee’s hands he felt small. Not fragile, exactly, but unexpectedly easy to hold. 

He’s so small, Jaehee thought, the realization hitting him like a drug. I’m terrified of him? Why? I could snap his wrist with two fingers. I could lift him off the ground and he wouldn't be able to stop me. 

Sion regained his balance and shoved Jaehee away violently, smoothing his robes with trembling hands. 

"Watch where you're going, you lumbering oaf!" Sion hissed, his face pale, eyes wide with the adrenaline of the near-fall. "You nearly crushed me." 

His face was still a bit too pale to make the insult convincing. 

Jaehee didn’t apologize. He usually would’ve; he was good at that sort of sheepish, “sorry-hyung” act. But now, he just flexed the hand that had grabbed Sion, and he looked at Sion’s thin neck. 

He glanced down at Sion, his expression unreadable. 

“You should be more careful,” he said quietly. Not teasing or scolding but honest. “It wouldn’t take much to knock you over.” 

Sion bristled at that, shoulders going stiff, but he didn’t have a comeback ready. Not one that made sense, anyway. 

The staircase shifted again, jerking slightly. Sion grabbed the railing this time. 

Jaehee noticed. 

The corner of his mouth twitched, just barely. 

• Sion cares too much about his reputation. 

It was peak dinner hour, and the Great Hall was utter chaos. Plates clattered, someone was laughing way too loudly at the Ravenclaw table, and the first-years were arguing over who stole whose treacle tart. Professors watched from the High Table with that tired, end-of-the-day stare adults get when they’ve given up pretending to be in control. 

Sion sat at the far end of the Slytherin bench, a little removed from everyone else, just enough to not draw attention. He had a glass of pumpkin juice in one hand and a textbook propped open against a jug, turning pages with the kind of absentminded focus that suggested he’d rather be anywhere else. 

Hell, third-wheeling Yushi and Riku sounded more pleasing to him. 

He looked composed, as always. From a distance, it might’ve looked like he was trying to project some untouchable aura but from up close, it was clear he was just used to being on his own. 

Jaehee was walking down the aisle between the tables. He should have kept walking. 

Instead, as he passed behind Sion, he stopped. 

The noise of the hall provided cover. No one was looking at them. 

Jaehee let his hand drop. He didn't poke Sion or tap his shoulder. He slid his fingers into the short and neatly trimmed hair at the nape of Sion’s neck. 

It was an intimate touch. He dragged his nails lightly against the sensitive scalp, then trailed his fingertips down the exposed skin of Sion’s neck, stopping just under the collar. 

Sion choked. 

He slammed his goblet down, pumpkin juice sloshing onto the table. He spun around on the bench, his wand halfway out of his sleeve before he even fully turned. His eyes were blazing with murder. 

"Touch me again," Sion hissed, his voice trembling with fury, "and you lose the hand." 

Jaehee didn't flinch. He didn't step back. He stood his ground, looming over the seated Slytherin. 

"Or what?" Jaehee whispered, a smile playing on his lips. 

"I will hex you into a stain on the floor," Sion threatened. 

"Here?" Jaehee glanced pointedly up at the High Table, where Professor Snape was glaring at the room. "In front of your Head of House? In front of the entire school? You'd cause a scene, hyung? You?" 

Sion froze. 

Jaehee saw the calculation happen in real-time. Sion hated being a spectacle. He hated looking out of control. To hex a Hufflepuff in the middle of dinner for a "friendly pat on the back" would make Sion look unhinged. It would break his perfect mask. 

Sion’s hand tightened on his wand, knuckles white, but he didn't draw it. He couldn't. 

He’s really bluffing, Jaehee realized. He cares more about his image than his safety. As long as I keep it quiet... as long as I don't give him a public reason... I can do whatever I want. 

"That's what I thought," Jaehee murmured. 

He reached out and fixed Sion’s collar, brushing his knuckles against Sion’s throat one last time. Sion sat there, rigid and fuming, but he took it. He let it happen. 

• Sion wants whatever Jaehee is ready to give him...? 

This was the final key; the one that turned Jaehee from a boy who was testing boundaries into a predator entering the cage. 

They were in the stacks, searching for a Reference book on Ghouls. The aisle was narrow, dusty, and dim. 

Jaehee was crowding Sion again. It had become a habit. When he reached for a book on the high shelf, he leaned in too far, his chest brushing Sion’s back, his arm coming down on either side like he was boxing him in. 

“You’re suffocating me,” Sion muttered, books hugged to his chest. His tone was irritated, but his shoulders didn’t jerk away. He didn’t elbow Jaehee off him. He just stayed pinned there, breath catching slightly. 

Jaehee paused, not reaching for the book anymore, just staying where he was.  

“You seem tense, hyung,” he said quietly near Sion’s ear. “Want me to move?” 

Sion turned his head. They were nose-to-nose and the air between them was hot. 

“I want you to die,” Sion said. But it came out soft, sounding more like a reflexive line delivered without intention. His voice was unsteady. 

Jaehee finally looked at him properly. 

He noticed the way Sion’s breath hitched too fast and shallow. The faint pink rising under his collar. The way he wouldn’t quite meet Jaehee’s eyes but when he did, his pupils were wide and unfocused. 

And there were the glances. The brief and compulsive flick down to Jaehee’s mouth. Back up. Down again. 

Sion’s hand, resting on the shelf near Jaehee’s hip, wasn't pushing him away. It was gripping the wood like as if he was bracing for impact that would never come. 

He wasn't waiting for Jaehee to leave. He was waiting for Jaehee to do something. 

Oh, Jaehee thought, the realization hitting him so hard he almost laughed out loud. He’s not scared. He’s just pretending to be. 

The good boy act finally died in that aisle. He’s never making an appearance again. 

Jaehee pulled back slowly, giving Sion the space he hadn't asked for. Sion looked confused, almost disappointed, before he composed his face into a scowl. 

"See you later, hyung," Jaehee said, his voice light. 

He walked out of the library with a plan.  

He knew Sion was alone during third period. He knew where the empty classrooms were. And now, he knew that Sion wouldn't fight back, not really. 

He walked like someone who had just been handed permission he didn’t realize he was searching for.  

Just a boy who’d finally understood he didn’t have to keep pretending. 

The castle was quiet, the heavy, drowsy silence of mid-afternoon settling over the stone corridors. 

Sion had taken over an unused classroom on the third floor. It was a small, dusty room filled with old desks pushed to the side and the smell of chalk and dry rot. It was perfect. No people or noise. Just him and a botched Transfiguration essay he needed to fix before McGonagall flayed him alive. 

He was deep in thought, quill scratching furiously, when the door clicked shut. 

Sion didn't look up. He assumed it was Yushi coming to complain about Riku, or maybe Sakuya looking for a place to nap. 

"Yushi, if you're here to whine, I'm charging by the minute," Sion muttered, crossing out a line of ink. "And close the door properly, there's a draft." 

"Not Yushi." 

The voice was not Yushi’s. 

Sion froze. His quill hovered over the parchment. 

He turned around in his chair. Jaehee was standing by the door. Jaehee was leaning against the wood, arms crossed, watching Sion with an unreadable expression. He looked massive in the small room. 

"I'm working," Sion said, turning back to his essay, though the muscles in his shoulders pulled tight. "Go annoy Sakuya or something." 

"No." 

Footsteps came closer to him. Thud. Thud. Thud. 

Sion spun his chair around, his patience snapping. "Jaehee, I said—" 

He cut himself off. 

Jaehee was right there. He was standing inside Sion’s personal bubble, invading the air he breathed. 

Sion stood up instinctively to gain some height, trying to stand his ground but it was a mistake. Standing up just put him directly in Jaehee’s shadow. He took a step back, and his lower back hit the edge of the desk. 

Trapped, again. 

"What is wrong with you?" Sion snapped, trying to summon his usual tone, but his voice sounded so feeble in the room. "Back up." 

"You're always ordering me around," Jaehee murmured. He didn't back up. He took another half-step forward. 

He placed his hands on the desk on either side of Sion’s waist. Thump. Thump. 

Jaehee leaned down, his face level with Sion’s. The size difference was obvious. Up close, Jaehee was a wall of broad shoulders and Sion felt suddenly small and narrow. 

"Move," Sion warned, his hand twitching toward his pocket for his wand. 

Jaehee moved faster. He didn't flinch. He reached out and grabbed Sion’s wrist—iron-tight, careful enough to not hurt him—and pinned it to the desk behind Sion’s back. 

"Stop squirming," Jaehee said calmly. 

Sion gasped, the breath knocked out of him by the sheer audacity. "Let go of me." 

"Or what?" Jaehee challenged. His eyes were dancing with a terrifying amusement. 

He stepped in. 

He stepped right between Sion’s legs, forcing Sion to spread his knees to accommodate Jaehee’s size. Jaehee pressed his thigh firmly between Sion’s legs, pinning him against the wood. One wrong move and he’d be feeling up Sion’s crotch with his thigh. 

The weight was overwhelming. Sion couldn't move his legs or his arm. He was completely immobilized by Jaehee’s body and he didn’t bother trying to push Jaehee away with his free arm because he knew it would be a hopeless attempt. 

"Look at you," Jaehee whispered, staring down at Sion. "You act so big. You talk so big. But you're the complete opposite." 

Jaehee leaned his full weight forward. Sion felt the air leave his lungs. He felt small. He felt engulfed. 

"I could crush you right now," Jaehee murmured. His free hand came up and rested heavily on Sion’s throat, right over the pulse point. "I could snap you in half, hyung. And you couldn't do a thing about it." 

Sion stared up at him, face burning. He should be furious. He should be terrified. 

But the fear was getting tangled up with something else. 

The feeling of being overpowered, of being completely at the mercy of the "puppy," sent a sick and a confusing jolt of heat straight to his stomach. His body betrayed him. Instead of fighting, his muscles went soft. His back arched slightly into the pressure of Jaehee’s thigh. 

"Get off," Sion choked out, but it sounded weak. It sounded like a plea. 

Jaehee’s eyes darkened. He felt the reaction. He felt the way Sion’s pulse hammered against his thumb—fast, erratic, and mostly aroused. 

He smirked. 

"I let you win," Jaehee whispered against Sion’s ear, his hot breath sending shivers down Sion’s spine. "I let you lead because I like watching you pretend you're the master. But don't forget which one of us is the wolf." 

Jaehee didn't kiss him. He opened his mouth and bit down on Sion’s earlobe, hard. 

Sion let out a gasp, his legs giving out completely. If he hadn't been pinned against the desk, he would have slid to the floor. 

Jaehee pulled back. He released Sion’s wrist. 

He stepped back, the loss of his heat leaving Sion cold and trembling against the desk. 

Jaehee fixed his own tie, looking perfectly calm, while Sion stood there flushed and  confusingly hard. 

It was like they swapped souls. 

"Finish your essay, hyung," Jaehee said, his voice light and cheerful again, though his eyes told another story. "I'll see you after finals." 

He walked out, leaving the door slightly ajar. 

Sion slumped against the desk, sliding down until he hit the floor. He touched his ear where Jaehee had bitten him. His hand was shaking. He felt furious. He felt violated. 

That, Sion thought, wiping his earlobe aggressively, was a mistake. And he is going to pay for it. 

The tension didn't break; it festered. It grew like black mold in the corners of their interactions, invisible to the casual observer but toxic to anyone who breathed it in. 

Since the incident in the empty classroom—where Jaehee had pinned Sion to a desk and proven exactly how easily he could crush him—Sion had been vibrating with a defensive rage. He needed to rebalance the scales. He needed to remind the wolf why it wore a collar. 

The group decided, with Sakuya's persuasion, to celebrate the end of the year with a "secret" party in the Room of Requirement. It was loud, chaotic, and filled with the smell of contraband Firewhiskey that Yushi had overpaid for. 

Riku was tipsy, sitting on Yushi’s lap, lecturing a very confused Sakuya about labour laws. Ryo was asleep on a beanbag, and Yushi was sitting on a high-backed chair, looking like a king observing his court, nursing a drink. 

And Sion was trying his best to ignore the massive and warm weight pressing against his legs. 

Jaehee. 

Jaehee wasn't sitting on a chair like a civilized human being. He was sitting cross-legged on the rug, right at Sion’s feet. To the others, it looked normal and friendly but to Sion, it was mockery. It was the predator pretending to be a pet, basking in the memory of the classroom. 

"You're in my way," Sion murmured, kicking Jaehee’s shoulder lightly with the toe of his boot. 

Jaehee didn't move. He leaned back, resting the back of his head against Sion’s knee. The contact was electric. 

"I'm comfortable, hyung," Jaehee hummed, eyes closed, throat exposed. "Your knee is fucking bony, though." 

"Move," Sion warned, his hand twitching with the urge to grab Jaehee’s hair and yank. "Or I'll kick you for real." 

"Do it," Jaehee whispered, tilting his head back to look at Sion upside down. His eyes were glassy, dark with the memory of the desk. "Kick me. See if I move. We both know what you’re capable of." 

It was a challenge. A reference to Sion’s physical weakness. 

Sakuya walked by, holding two butterbeers. "Aww, look at Jaehee! He’s basically napping on you, Sion. He really likes and trusts you now!" 

Sion stared at Sakuya, then down at the boy at his feet who was smiling wide at him now. 

"Trust," Sion repeated flatly. "Right." 

Jaehee smirked. Then, hidden by the angle of the sofa, he reached back. His hand slid up Sion’s calf, past the boot, and squeezed the back of Sion’s knee. Then, his fingers trailed higher, ghosting over the sensitive skin of the inner thigh. 

It was the same grip he’d used in the classroom. 

Sion stiffened, spilling a drop of Firewhiskey on his hand. 

Jaehee scratched lightly, his nails dragging against the fabric of Sion's trousers, inching dangerously close to his groin. 

"Stop," Sion hissed, barely moving his lips, afraid others would overhear. 

"Make me," Jaehee mouthed back. "Or are you scared I'll pin you—”  

Sion didn't hesitate. He deliberately tipped his glass. 

Ice-cold Firewhiskey poured down, splashing directly onto Jaehee’s face, soaking his hair, his shirt, and stinging his eyes. 

Jaehee gasped, scrambling forward on his hands and knees, sputtering. The music stopped. The room went silent. 

"Sion!" Riku shouted, horrified. 

"He was overheating," Sion said calmly, standing up and brushing a speck of lint from his robes. "I cooled him down." 

Jaehee was on the floor, coughing, alcohol dripping from his nose and chin. He looked pathetic. Wet. Ruined. 

And when he looked up at Sion through his soaked bangs, he looked absolutely euphoric. 

"I’ll clean him up," Sion said coldly. "He smells like shit." 

He turned and walked toward the bathroom attached to the Room, not looking back. He counted the seconds. 

One. Two. Three. 

The bathroom door opened and closed. The lock clicked. 

Sion didn't turn around immediately. He stood in front of the large mirror, gripping the edges of the porcelain sink. He watched Jaehee in the reflection. 

Jaehee stood with his back to the door, chest heaving. He was a masterpiece of ruin. The Firewhiskey had soaked his white shirt, making it translucent, clinging to his chest and stomach like a second skin. His hair was plastered to his forehead, dripping amber liquid onto the pristine tiled floor. 

He smelled of cheap alcohol and cinnamon. 

"You look disgusting," Sion lied to the mirror, his voice devoid of emotion. 

"Lies. And you did this," Jaehee rasped, wiping a drip from his chin. His eyes were red-rimmed from the alcohol sting. "You wanted to mark me because I scared you." 

Sion turned slowly. He walked toward Jaehee, his steps measured. He stopped inches away, close enough to feel the heat radiating off Jaehee’s soaked body. 

"I scared you?" Sion asked softly. "You think because you managed to corner me in an empty room, you have power? You have nothing." 

"I felt you," Jaehee challenged, stepping into Sion's space, using his height again. "In the classroom. You went fucking soft. You liked being pinned. You were hard." 

Sion’s hand shot out, grabbing Jaehee by the throat. He didn't squeeze to choke; he squeezed hard against the windpipe, using his body weight to shove Jaehee backward. 

Jaehee stumbled, letting Sion walk him backward until his hips hit the hard edge of the marble counter. 

"You think you know me," Sion whispered, leaning in, his nose brushing Jaehee’s cheek. "You think just because I let you sit at my table, you can climb into my lap?" 

He tightened his grip. Jaehee gasped, his hands coming up to grip Sion’s wrist to anchor himself. 

"You're sticky," Sion murmured, his face twisting in distaste. "And you smell vile." 

Sion reached behind him and twisted the tap. The ice-cold water roared to life. 

"Wash it off." 

Jaehee hesitated, glancing at the rushing water, then back at Sion. "Help me." 

It was a dare. A beg. 

Sion sneered. He grabbed the back of Jaehee’s neck, his fingers tangling violently in the wet hair. He shoved Jaehee’s head down. 

Jaehee didn't fight. He went limp, surrendering to the force, letting Sion slam his face toward the basin. The cold water hit his head and neck, shocking his system. He sputtered, instinct kicking in as he tried to pull back, but Sion held him there. 

Sion leaned his weight onto Jaehee’s shoulders, pinning him. He watched the water run over Jaehee’s face, washing away the whiskey, turning clear water into a dilute amber swirl in the drain. He watched Jaehee’s biceps flex under the wet sleeves as he gripped the sink, submitting to Sion's control. 

Sion held him for three seconds too long. Long enough to erase the memory of the classroom and long enough for the submission to be set in stone. 

Then, he yanked Jaehee up. 

Jaehee came up gasping and shaking uncontrollably. Water streamed from his nose and chin, soaking the front of his shirt even more. He looked wrecked. 

"Better?" Sion asked, his voice low and mocking. 

Jaehee coughed, wiping his eyes, leaning against the sink for support. He looked at Sion in the mirror, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. He should have been angry or be fucking terrified. Instead, a slow smile broke across his face. 

"Cold," Jaehee wheezed. 

"That's the point," Sion said, reaching out to turn off the tap. The silence that rushed back into the room was heavy, thick with tension. 

Sion grabbed a rough paper towel and balled it up. He began to dry Jaehee’s face, gently but with a rough cadence. He patted at Jaehee’s cheeks, his forehead, dragging the rough paper over the sensitive skin behind his neck. 

"Look at you," Sion murmured, tossing the wet paper onto the floor. "Shivering and soaked to the bone. Pathetic." 

"I'm yours," Jaehee whispered, the words trembling out of him. 

Sion froze. 

“What?” 

Jaehee reached out, his hand grabbing Sion’s belt. 

"Do it again," Jaehee begged, his voice cracking, stepping forward, pressing his freezing and wet body against Sion’s warm one. The difference in their body temperatures sent a shock through them both. "Put me back under the tap. Drown me. I don't care. Just don't stop touching me." 

"You have a death wish," Sion hissed, grabbing Jaehee’s wrists to stop him from undoing the belt, pinning them against the wet counter. 

"I do not care," Jaehee said, staring intensely into Sion's eyes. "You think I care about dignity like you? I care about this. I care about your hand on my neck. I care that you're looking at me like you want to eat me alive." 

Sion stared at him. The boy was insane. He was a masochist. He was a monster of Sion’s own making. 

And god, he was beautiful. 

"You think you’re worthy enough to be eaten?" Sion growled. 

He released Jaehee’s wrists and grabbed his face with both hands, squishing his cheeks, forcing his mouth open into a pout. 

"Then do better." 

Sion slammed his mouth onto Jaehee’s. 

Sion bit down on Jaehee’s bottom lip hard enough to break the skin, tasting the metallic tang of blood and the lingering flavour of Firewhisky. Jaehee made a noise like a whimpering dog in the back of his throat and instantly melted. 

Jaehee’s arms wrapped around Sion’s neck, clinging, pulling him closer, grinding his hips forward. He tasted like everything Sion hated. 

Sion groaned, the sound vibrating in his chest. He grabbed Jaehee’s waist, digging his fingers in, trying to find grip on the soaked fabric. He walked Jaehee backward until they hit the stall door with a loud thud. 

"Mine," Sion muttered against Jaehee’s wet neck, biting the sensitive spot there. "My dog. My mess." 

"Yours," Jaehee gasped, tilting his head back to bare his throat, surrendering everything. "Yours, hyung. Break me. Please." 

Sion’s hand slid up, grabbing Jaehee’s hair in his fist and pulled his face down. "Shut up," Sion breathed, kissing him again, harder, deeper, trying to consume all the air from Jaehee’s lungs. "Shut up and take it." 

(If Yushi noticed a Slytherin robe that belonged to his roommate in Jaehee’s bag the next day, he decided it was none of his business.) 

The weeks following the bathroom incident were quiet after the storm. To the outside world, nothing had changed. To Sion and Jaehee, everything had changed. 

They weren't dating. Dating implied flowers and Hogsmeade trips and holding hands. What they were doing was territory management. They were learning to exist in the same space without drawing blood, or rather, only drawing it when they both wanted to. It was a rough sort of tenderness, like pressing on a fresh bruise to feel the ache. 

The first sign of the "new normal" was the robe. 

Sion sat at the Slytherin table for breakfast, nursing a black coffee and a headache. He was missing his outer robe. He knew exactly where it was, but he refused to acknowledge it to Yushi, who was eyeing him with suspicion. 

Across the Great Hall, at the Hufflepuff table, Jaehee walked in. 

He wasn't wearing his own yellow-trimmed robes. He was wearing a robe that was slightly too short in the sleeves and tight across the shoulders. A robe with a green serpent crest on the chest. 

The entire Hall seemed to miss it, lost in their morning chatter. But Sion and Yushi saw it. 

Jaehee caught Sion’s eye across the room. He didn't wave or shoot his fake, sunny smile. He just ran his hand down the lapel of the stolen robe, bringing the fabric up to his nose for a split second to inhale the scent—Sion’s scent. 

Then, he sat down and started buttering toast like he wasn't wearing someone else’s robe. 

Sion gripped his coffee mug tight. It was a public claim. I'm wearing your skin. 

Later, in the corridor between classes, Jaehee brushed past him. 

"It's tight in the shoulders," Jaehee whispered, not stopping, his voice teasing. 

"Stretch it," Sion murmured back, not looking up from his book, "and I'll strangle you with it." 

"Promise?" 

“You sick fuck.” 

The Sixth-Floor Study Club had resumed, though the air was heavier now. 

Jaehee refused to sit in a chair. He sat on the floor, cross-legged on the rug, right at Sion’s feet, claiming the space like a guard dog, just like what he did during the party but now he meant it wholeheartedly. 

Sion was trying to write an essay on Gillyweed, but Jaehee leaned back, resting his head against Sion’s calf. The heat of him soaked through Sion's trousers, distracting and irritating. 

"You have a big head," Sion muttered, his quill scratching violently against the parchment. "It's heavy." 

"It's full of thoughts about you," Jaehee hummed, closing his eyes and tilting his chin up. 

Sion’s left hand dropped down. He didn't pat Jaehee. He tangled his fingers into Jaehee’s hair and tugged—sharp enough to snap Jaehee’s head back slightly, exposing the line of his throat to the room. 

"Then empty it," Sion whispered, his voice a low threat. "You're breathing and talking too loud." 

"Sorry, hyung." 

Sion didn't let go. He kept his grip tight in the hair, using it to anchor Jaehee’s head in place against his leg. Then, his thumb started to stroke the sensitive skin behind Jaehee’s ear. It was gentle, rhythmic and calming. 

Jaehee’s shoulders dropped, his breathing evened out, and he practically purred under the touch, effectively paralyzed by the grip on his scalp. 

Riku looked up from his book, adjusting his glasses and smiling benevolently. "It’s good to see you two getting along. Physical contact releases oxytocin, you know." 

Sion yanked Jaehee’s hair hard. Jaehee let out a small, wrecked noise that sounded suspiciously like a moan. 

"We're managing," Sion said flatly. 

Jaehee wasn't sleeping well. He would pace the Hufflepuff dorms until 3 AM suffering from insomnia that Sion wasn’t aware of. 

Eventually, he started sneaking into the dungeons. 

The first time, Sion had hexed him. The third time, he’d locked the door. The tenth time, he’d just sighed and moved over. 

It was 2 AM. Rain lashed the window of the Slytherin dorm. 

"I can't turn my brain off," Jaehee whispered into the darkness. He was lying on top of Sion’s covers, fully clothed, staring at the canopy. "It's too loud." 

Sion was trying to read by wand-light. "That's because your skull is empty. It echoes." 

"Help me." 

Sion marked his page and set the book down.  

He reached out and placed his hand over Jaehee’s eyes. 

"Shut up," Sion ordered. 

He pressed down. Not enough to hurt, but enough to be a heavy weight. He blocked out all the light. Then, he moved his other arm, wrapping it around Jaehee’s neck in a loose chokehold, pulling Jaehee’s back flush against his chest. 

It was distinguishable from a wrestling hold. 

"Don't move," Sion breathed against Jaehee’s ear. "If you move, I tighten the grip." 

"Okay," Jaehee exhaled, his body instantly going boneless. 

The sensory deprivation—the hand over his eyes, the arm compressing his windpipe just slightly—was the switch. The pressure grounded him. He needed the weight to feel safe. He needed to feel conquered to feel calm. 

Sion held him there, feeling the slow, heavy thud of Jaehee’s heart against his arm. He didn't let go, even when his arm started to cramp. He kept Jaehee in the dark, in the chokehold, until the breathing deepened into sleep. 

"Needy mutt," Sion whispered into the hair, pressing a kiss to the back of Jaehee's head before blowing out the light. 

They were walking to Hogsmeade. Jaehee was walking too fast, talking too loud, and he was all over the place. He looked ready to start a fight just to feel something hitting him. 

Sion stopped walking. 

"Jaehee." 

Jaehee stopped, turning around, bouncing on his heels. "What? Hurry up, hyung, I want—" 

Sion didn't speak. He just reached out and grabbed the end of Jaehee’s long Hufflepuff scarf and yanked. 

Jaehee stumbled forward, choked mid-sentence. Sion reeled him in, wrapping the scarf around his fist until their faces were inches apart. 

"You are jumping off the walls," Sion said quietly. "Stop it." 

"I'm cold," Jaehee lied, eyes wide and dilated. 

"You're annoying." Sion tightened the scarf, pulling Jaehee’s head down until he had to bend. 

People were walking by. They saw a Slytherin manhandling a Hufflepuff and they looked away, uncomfortable. 

Sion used his free hand to fix Jaehee’s collar, buttoning it all the way to the top, trapping the scarf against his neck. He smoothed the fabric down with a heavy, flat palm against Jaehee’s chest, feeling the racing heart. 

"Calm down," Sion ordered. "Or I'm dragging you back to the castle and locking you in a broom cupboard." 

Jaehee’s eyes fluttered shut. He took a deep, shaky breath, inhaling Sion’s scent. The wild energy drained out of him and was replaced by that familiar submission. 

"Okay," Jaehee whispered. "Okay, hyung." 

Sion held him there for a moment longer, staring at the pulse jumping in Jaehee’s throat. 

"Good boy." 

Sion let go of the scarf, turned, and kept walking. 

Jaehee stood there for a second, touching his throat where the scarf was now tight and secure. He smiled and trotted after him, perfectly matched to Sion’s pace. 

Then came Valentine’s Day. The Great Hall was a nightmare of pink confetti, giggling first-years, and the smell of chocolate. 

Jaehee, naturally, was drowning in it. He was sitting at the Hufflepuff table, surrounded by a mountain of chocolates and cards from admirers who had bought into the "Golden Retriever" persona hook, line, and sinker. He was smiling that blinding fake smile, thanking a 4th-year girl for a box of squeaking sugar mice. 

Sion was watching from the Slytherin table. He wasn't eating. He was slicing a sausage while staring holes into the back of Jaehee’s head. 

Jaehee felt it and he stiffened, glanced over his shoulder, and met Sion’s eyes. 

Sion didn't blink. He just pointed his knife at the door. Get out. 

Jaehee excused himself immediately, leaving the mountain of gifts behind. He met Sion in the empty trophy room five minutes later. 

"You're enjoying it," Sion accused, backing Jaehee up against a display case of 'Special Services to the School.' 

"I'm just being polite, hyung," Jaehee said, his voice soft. "They bought me gifts. It would be rude to refuse." 

"Well, stop being polite when I’m here," Sion said, stepping into his space. "Standing there wagging your tail for anyone who gives you a treat. Have you no standards, Daeyoung-ah?" 

"My standards are high," Jaehee murmured, looking down at Sion’s mouth. "That's why I'm here." 

Sion grabbed Jaehee’s jaw and leaned in. "You smell like everything but me." 

"Fix it." 

Sion pulled out his wand. "Scourgify." 

He cast the cleaning charm directly on Jaehee’s mouth. It tasted like soap and stinging static. Jaehee sputtered, coughing, wiping his lips frantically. 

"Gross, hyung!" 

"Better than the garbage you were eating," Sion said calmly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a dark chocolate truffle. Not the usual Lemon Drops that has become a tradition of truce between them. An actual treat. 

He held it up. 

"Open." 

Jaehee opened his mouth instantly. Sion placed the chocolate on his tongue, his fingers lingering against Jaehee’s wet lips. 

"If I catch you eating anyone else's food," Sion whispered, "I'll sew your mouth shut." 

Jaehee swallowed the chocolate whole, eyes wide. “Understood." 

The rivalry between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had turned nasty on the Quidditch pitch. 

Jaehee was playing Beater. He was a menace on the field—a smiling blur of violence who apologized as he knocked people off their brooms. He was wild, unchecked, and terrifyingly efficient. 

Every time he hit a Bludger, he looked up at the stands. Specifically, at the spot where Sion was sitting, wrapped in a green scarf, looking miserable. 

After the match (Hufflepuff won, barely), Sion waited by the players' tunnel in the shadows. 

Jaehee came out looking muddy, sweaty and hair plastered to his forehead. His nose was bleeding slightly from a collision. He looked feral, buzzing with adrenaline. 

He saw Sion and stopped. A bloody grin spread across his face. 

"Did you see?" Jaehee panted, wiping blood from his lip. "I almost took Riku’s head off." 

"You shouldn’t say that! I’m glad you missed this time but otherwise, it would’ve been a disappointment," Sion criticized, stepping out of the shadows. 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He grabbed Jaehee’s chin, holding him still with a loose grip. 

He wiped the blood and mud from Jaehee’s face. He scrubbed hard—rough, aggressive strokes that made Jaehee wince and try to pull away. 

"Ow, hyung." 

"Stand still. You look like a savage." 

"Did I do good?" Jaehee asked, his eyes searching Sion’s, desperate for the praise that he so badly wanted. 

Sion looked at the bruise forming on Jaehee’s cheek. He pressed his thumb into it. Jaehee hissed but leaned into the pain. 

"You were good," Sion said softly. "But you're messy." 

"Clean me up?" Jaehee whispered. 

Sion dropped the dirty handkerchief on the ground. He grabbed the front of Jaehee’s Quidditch robes and yanked him down for a kiss that tasted of iron and sweat. It was short and hard. 

"Showers," Sion ordered, pulling back abruptly. "Ten minutes. If you're late, I'm leaving." 

"I'll be there in five," Jaehee promised, already scrambling toward the locker room like his life depended on it. 

It was late that same night. Sion was in his dorm room reading. There was a knock on the door—three heavy, impatient thuds. 

It couldn’t be Yushi as he was with Riku which left Sion with one option. 

Sion opened it to find Jaehee looking frustrated, holding a Transfiguration text, wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt that was too tight. 

"I don't get it," Jaehee said, pushing past Sion into the room without an invitation. "Vanishing spells. The theory is stupid." 

"The theory is sound," Sion said, closing the door and leaning against it. "You're just too sentimental to vanish things properly. You keep trying to hold onto them." 

"Teach me, then." Jaehee sat on the edge of Sion’s bed and looked up, waiting. 

Sion walked over. He didn't sit next to him. He stood between Jaehee’s spread knees, looming over him. 

"Wand," Sion commanded. 

Jaehee handed it over. 

"The wrist movement isn't a wave," Sion said, grabbing Jaehee’s wrist with his free hand. "It's a snap. Like breaking a bone." 

He manipulated Jaehee’s arm, his grip tight. Jaehee wasn't looking at his wand. He was looking at Sion’s throat, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. 

"Focus, Daeyoung-ah." 

"I am." 

"On the spell." 

"No." 

Jaehee dropped his arm. He wrapped his arms around Sion’s waist, burying his face in Sion’s stomach. He squeezed, tight enough to knock the wind out of the smaller boy. 

"I'm tired, hyung," Jaehee mumbled into the fabric of Sion’s shirt. "My brain won't shut up. Make it quiet." 

Sion sighed. This is what he got for owning the wolf. He rested his hand on the back of Jaehee’s neck, his fingers drawing circles. 

"You are a leech," Sion whispered. 

"Your leech," Jaehee corrected. 

Sion dragged him backward onto the bed. "Shut up. If you're not going to study, you're going to sleep. I refuse to fail N.E.W.T.s because you're needy." 

They lay there for an hour. Sion reading, one hand absentmindedly twisting into Jaehee’s hair, occasionally tugging when Jaehee moved too much. Jaehee lay dead-weight on Sion’s chest, drooling slightly on his shirt, finally, peacefully asleep under the weight of Sion's hand. 

It was graduation day. The Great Hall was awash in house colors, cheering families, and the sentimental sobbing of Hufflepuffs. 

Yushi stood by the entrance, adjusting his cap, watching the crowd. 

"They're going to kill each other before they hit thirty," Riku commented, standing next to him, looking worried. 

Yushi followed Riku’s gaze. 

Sion and Jaehee were standing near the archway. They weren't hugging or holding hands. They looked like they were in the middle of a heated conversation. 

Sion was fixing Jaehee’s robes. He was smoothing the collar down with a force that looked aggressive, his hands lingering on Jaehee’s throat. He was saying something possibly mean, his face stoic. 

Jaehee wasn't listening to the lecture. He was staring down at Sion with that familiar terrifying devotion. He reached out and seemingly "fixed" a lock of Sion’s hair, his large hand engulfing the back of Sion’s skull in a grip that was pure possession. 

Sion didn't pull away. He leaned back into the hand, just a fraction of an inch, before swatting Jaehee’s chest with a scroll. 

"No," Yushi corrected, watching Sion grab Jaehee’s tie to pull him through the crowd like a dog on a leash. "They're going to be just fine. Sion needs something to break, and Jaehee needs someone to hold the pieces." 

Jaehee said something that made Sion scowl, and then, right there in front of the Headmistress and the Minister of Magic, Jaehee leaned down and bit Sion on the neck. 

Sion didn't hex him. He just grabbed Jaehee’s ear and twisted. 

Yushi sighed, turning away. "Come on, Riku. Let's go before they start making a scene. Again."