Archive of Our Own ^beta

It’s a weekend and the Defense Against the Dark Arts room was supposed to be empty. But on a particular Saturday afternoon, when Hansol went up to the tower, it wasn’t. He found the room open, door ajar. He thought Professor Jung was there on overtime but instead, he saw a student in familiar scarlet-and-gold robes. The room seemed like it was purposely arranged solely for him. The desks were all pushed to the side and a large trunk was set in the middle. The Gryffindor student stood in front of it, his wand out. Curious, Hansol remained by the door.

“Alohomora,” the boy muttered. Locks clicked, the trunk opening with a loud thunk. An undulated mass emerged in a snap, its cloud-like appearance lasting only for a split second. It immediately transformed itself into a cluster of pink small papers cranes—or what Hansol first assumed were cranes. It looked like a rough lump of peach and red until it bursted into a swarm of flying creatures: butterflies. Hansol looked in awe as they hovered above the student, covering almost the whole of the room’s high ceiling. It was beautiful, he thought.

Apparently, he was the only one appreciating it.

“R-Ridd...Riddikulus,” the student muttered. With shaky fingers, he wasn’t sure where he should point his wand at. There was a tiny spark from the tip but nothing happened. At that point, Hansol finally understood what this was for. The student was practicing the Boggart-Banishing Charm.

A butterfly landed on the student’s hand so he immediately pulled his arm back. Another touched his shoulder, his head, the side of his robes. Soon, in staggered yelps and screams, he stepped backwards, almost tumbling as he swatted the winged creatures away. He tried to cast “Riddikulus” twice but he was stuttering too much. On the third try, his wand fell off his grip.

He stumbled, his back hitting the edge of a desk. There was a grunt, loud enough for Hansol to know that it was painful. It wasn’t long before the student was desperately screaming, crouched against the desk and arms over his head. He was hopeless and Hansol decided he should step in.

“Yuta!”

Hansol was all set for the rescue but someone entered before he could jump in. Professor Jung appeared, running towards the student as he pulled his wand out. With the professor standing between the student and the swarm, the boggart gathered itself, butterflies disappearing in groups as they were sucked into a swift black mass, reshaping in a split second into a werewolf. It was daunting and huge, towering over the professor by a couple of feet that even Hansol got goosebumps in a sudden wave of fear. Yet the professor remained firm. With a swish, he spoke, “Riddikulus!” In a snap, the werewolf wobbled backwards before turning into a pup, feet wrapped in lacy rainbow socks, head topped with a party hat.

There was another flick and the pup was thrown inside the trunk, closing it shut. If Hansol didn’t know it was a boggart he’d feel really bad. But he realized his pity was rather misplaced as he should be worrying about this boy named “Yuta” who was still trembling, curled to the side.

“Are you okay?” Hansol said, crouching next to him. Yuta nodded but his face was still hidden on both knees pulled close to his head.

Professor Jung gave Yuta a minute of scolding (something about why Yuta had tackled a boggart without his presence) before running towards his office, coming back later with a glass of water. He also handed him a piece of chocolate. Yuta took both silently with shaky hands. When he calmed down, Hansol was somehow relieved.

“You better rest,” Professor Jung said. “We’ll continue tomorrow.”

Yuta nodded. With apologetic eyes, he bowed at the professor and gave Hansol an equally sorry but also embarrassed look. “You...you probably thought it was funny,” he said, his face flushed.

“No! No. I didn’t,” Hansol said, fervently shaking his head. “Are you sure you’re okay? I could bring you back to the common room if—”

“I-it’s fine!” Yuta exclaimed, his eyes wide. “I can manage. Thanks Professor. I’m sorry again.”

Jung gave him a nod and Yuta, still rosy in the cheeks, darted off the room. Hansol stood there silently, a tinge of curiosity brewing in his chest.




“So, what’s keeping our dear Seeker deep in his thoughts?” Youngho plopped on the couch next to Hansol who had been sitting on the armchair for almost an hour now. There’s a book on the coffee table, “Cram It!: How to Soar on Your O.W.L.s,” which seemed untouched. It even looked newly bought.

“Hey, Youngho,” Hansol began. “Do you by any chance know somebody named Nakamoto Yuta?”

Youngho hummed and nodded. “Yes. Well, we’re not close but I’ve talked to him once. Fifth year. Great at Charms, bad at Defense. Why?”

Great at Charms, bad at Defense. Hansol nodded to himself, too. “Nothing much.”

Then it was quiet, except for the fire that spat sparks and cracked in the silence. A satisfied smile began to creep on Hansol’s face. Professor Jung had told him about Yuta. The fifth year Gryffindor personally requested for extra review classes for O.W.L.s because he performed badly at Defense. The fact that Youngho knew about this must mean Yuta was notoriously horrible at it. Strangely, Hansol had not heard of him. It wasn’t that surprising of course given how many Gryffindor students there were but Hansol thought it was weird to find somebody almost unfamiliar. But it didn’t matter much now. He knew the name, the year level, and his bestest buddy knew Yuta, too. To say that Hansol was excited would be an understatement.

Youngho tilted his head, and he started leaning towards Hansol, the latter pulling himself away. “What...what are you doing?”

“Hansol,” Youngho said. There was a knowing smile, one Hansol was all too familiar with. He was busted. “You’re interested in him.”

Hansol blinked. There was no point in denying now. Youngho always had quick discerning skills and more often than not, his gut feelings were accurate.

“He’s cute. That’s all,” Hansol said, trying his best not to blush but his cheeks seemed to be failing him. Just as Youngho was about to begin his teasing, the door opened and a whole bunch of fifth years came in—including Yuta.

The common room was loud and crowded again but Hansol’s vision tunnelled right at Yuta. He stood up, grabbing the O.W.L.s book on the table, and ran after the fifth year. Yuta didn’t seem to have noticed the two on the couch as he—with a couple of friends—headed straight for the staircase to the dorms. He stopped immediately when Hansol called him.

“Hey,” Hansol said. “Uh, it’s Hansol. Last Saturday, at the North Tower.”

Yuta blinked and he looked confused either because Hansol was talking to him or Hansol introduced himself as the guy from the North Tower when basically the whole Gryffindor house knew him as their Quidditch team’s Seeker.

“Everyone knows you,” Yuta said. It was supposed to be sarcastic but it sounded closer to a mixture of of-course-if-that-wasn’t-obvious-yet and why-are-you-talking-to-me-please-stop. Hansol thought it was cute.

“Uhm, look,” Hansol handed Yuta the book. “Professor Jung told me about the...uh, review thing. So as an apology for interrupting and for, uh, watching you practice without your consent, here’s a peace offering? Hope it’ll help you with...you know, your stuff.”

Yuta stared at him for a moment then to the book and then back at Hansol. There was apparent hesitation and a tinge of awkward atmosphere. Saying no would be rude but getting the book would feel a bit too much. He contemplated for a second and decided the latter was the better choice. Besides, he knew he would have to make use of all forms of help at this point. “Ah, sure. Didn’t take offence actually but…uhm, thanks,” Yuta said, forcing a smile.

“Great. So, uh...see you around?” Hansol smiled back. He thought he saw Yuta look away.

“Yeah.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

Yuta ran up the stairs and into the dormitories. As soon as he disappeared, Hansol went back to Youngho and gushed at him. “Did you see that? Did you see that?” He asked, toning his voice down because they now shared the common room with other students.

“Smooth,” Youngho patted Hansol on the shoulder. “He looked intimidated, though.”

Hansol stopped. “I’m not intimidating. I’m adorable.”




Three days passed without any sight of Yuta. It was strange, Hansol thought, because they were Gryffindors and they were supposed to see each other a lot more often than how he would bump into the Slytherin Quidditch Team twice every day. He hated it.

“I thought you like Taeyong?” Youngho asked as they changed from their Quidditch robes to regular uniforms. “You said he was nice.”

“Yes he’s nice,” Hansol said. “But remember Jaehyun? His Ravenclaw boyfriend? He turned my ears into eagle wings!”

At that, Youngho bursted into a long, obnoxious laughter. He remembered it, mimicking how Hansol panicked when he got jinxed on accidentally. Hansol threw a towel at him.

“And they keep on snogging in the hallways! Can’t they like get a room? I’m pretty sure there are lots of secret ones! It’s Hogwarts, come on!” Hansol followed up, totally unaware of his raised voice. “Won’t be surprised if Taeyong rode him more than his broomstick.”

“You’re so salty.” Youngho teased, wiping the happy tears on his eyes. “You haven’t seen your Yuta until now I suppose?”

Hansol felt a jump in his stomach at your Yuta and he ended up half-snorting half-chuckling. “He’s not mine. And to answer your question, yes I still haven’t seen him for three days straight.” He accentuated on the last three words.

“And you think that’s annoying?”

“I think that’s annoying.”

Youngho shook his head. “He probably thinks you’re a creep for waiting for him at the common room.” Then he carried on mimicking Hansol when he handed Yuta the book.

“I love how supportive you are,” Hansol threw a towel at him again. But Youngho’s words made him wonder if Yuta was weirded out after he gave him the O.W.L.s book. What if he was offended? What if he actually subscribed to Quidditch player stereotypes—that Hansol was a haughty, annoying, big-headed jock? What if Yuta, to begin with, didn’t really like Hansol? He dropped to a bench and whined for a bit.

“Why don’t you check Professor Jung’s room again so you could appease yourself” Youngho suggested but he only got a defeated sigh. “You look horrible when you whine.”

Hansol had been checking the North Tower for days, wishing he’d get to see Yuta again practicing for his Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons. He was, so far, never lucky. By the time he’d arrive, the doors were already closed so he assumed he had been coming late or there was no scheduled practice session. He could give today a shot again, he wondered, but he felt too tired from their practice game that going up the North Tower would mean torture for his legs. Also, tomorrow’s their game against Hufflepuff. He really needed to rest. He just wished Yuta would watch the game.

“I’m not horrible. I’m adorable.”




The weather was perfect, clear but not too sunny. The clouds were thick enough to cover the sun so that it was cooler than expected. The Pitch was jampacked, as usual, with the deafening cheers too loud that Jongdae’s commentary was almost hardly audible. The day was, therefore, great. Except that the game wasn’t.

The Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff match had been on for almost an hour now and Hansol still had no luck finding the Snitch. It wasn’t also helping that their keeper and team captain Chanyeol was already injured when a bludger caught him early in the match. He was bloody on his forehead which effectively shut his right eye and would fail blocking some Quaffle shots. They were already behind by 40 points and Hansol was more than pressured to end it. He was trying his best, he swore, but finding and catching the Snitch were always easier said than done.

“Duck!” Youngho exclaimed as he charged towards Hansol. Hansol did and then there was a loud, scary swoosh right above his head—a bludger almost hit him in the face. Youngho swung his bat, hitting the bludger as he aimed it against a Hufflepuff Chaser. Then there was a faint crack followed by a player in yellow robes plummeting to the ground. A loud cheer erupted from the Gryffindor crowd.

“Thanks!” Hansol yelled and Youngho gave him a thumbs up. They couldn’t afford another injured player. “Find the Snitch! Chanyeol can’t keep up!”

“I’m trying my best!”

Hansol began scouring the whole Pitch again but more carefully. The Hufflepuff Seeker seemed to be having a hard time looking for the Snitch, too, but he knew he should get ahead of him. He started from the ground then gradually upwards. As soon as he reached the stands where the audience sat, he saw a small speck of gold, one right in front of the Gryffindor crowd. His heart raced, and so did his broomstick. He finally saw the Snitch.

He could hear the crowd scream at him, several students pointing at where the Snitch was. He charged towards it, only to halt in a very abrupt manner when he saw a familiar face at the front row. Three days Hansol missed seeing him and now right on the bleachers, he was there, Gryffindor colors painted on his cheeks, holding a scarlet flag: Yuta Nakamoto.

“Hey!” Hansol said and Yuta caught it. He locked eyes with Hansol, face shifting from amazement to confusion. His friends looked at them in wonder, too, making the moment appear as if time had stopped on them.

Hansol suddenly felt warm and fuzzy on the inside. He must be looking stupidly overly dramatic right now but he didn’t care. He stared at Yuta with a smile. For a moment he thought the Snitch could wait until he was almost knocked off his broomstick.

Something hit the end of his broomstick. A Hufflepuff Beater got to aim a bludger at him. He would have gotten worried of the damage on his broomstick (it was a Firebolt Supreme to begin with) but there was no time for it; he was plunging down it wouldn’t be too long before he would hit the ground with broken bones.

Hansol let his instinct do its job. He twisted his body so he could get back to position, luckily managing to pull back, the broomstick’s bristles brushing against the ground. There was a roar from the crowd as he flew back up, scanning the Gryffindor bleachers only to find Yuta already gone from where he was earlier.

He couldn’t afford spending time for disappointment when the Hufflepuff Seeker was already flying after the Snitch. Hansol sped up that he bumped onto his opponent as soon as he caught up. It was tough and rough; the bludgers seemed to be focused on them, away from the chasers and beaters, but Hansol was too resolved to end the game. He stretched his hand out, the Hufflepuff Seeker now trailing behind him after a bludger almost knocked him off. A few meters later, the Snitch was in his hand. Jongdae screamed—just as any biased commentator would do—and announced the end of the game. Gryffindor won.




The team, of course, celebrated. Just one more game left—against Ravenclaw—and the House Cup would be back to the Gryffindors. The common room was too packed that Hansol gave up on his desperate attempts to spot any Yuta Nakamoto.

Hansol went out as soon as the euphoria died down. And he thought he found more than a breath of fresh air—which he initially actually sought for—when he saw Yuta seated on one of the benches along the hallway. He was alone, not counting the other few Gryffindors who looked more than bored to wait for the party to end. Yuta didn’t seem like he was part of the group.

“Hey,” Hansol greeted, prompting Yuta to almost drop the book he was reading. It was the O.W.L. guidebook and seeing it used made Hansol feel giddy.

“Hi!” Yuta responded a little too gleefully. It probably was the shock seeing Hansol again.

“Busy?”

Yuta shook his head. “Not really. Take a seat?” He tapped the empty side to his right which Hansol took albeit keeping a distance. He felt too conscious of his sweaty Quidditch uniform. He hadn’t changed clothes since the game ended.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” Hansol began. Three days and a half. That was quite a long waiting time but it shouldn't matter now, he thought.

“Acads, spent most of my time in the library. Congratulations by the way,” Yuta said, closing the book and smiling at the older Gryffindor. “Heard you almost fell.”

“Yeah, bloody bludgers.” Hansol could only agree. Then he remembered Yuta disappearing mid-game and he fought against himself if he should ask.

“Didn’t see but I’m glad you’re okay,” Yuta spoke before Hansol could even continue. He sighed heavily, tapping the book as he looked at it in the most defeated eyes Hansol had ever seen. “Thanks for the book. It’s really helpful. I can cast Diminuendo properly now.”

Hansol smiled. “That’s great! You...don’t seem glad about it, though. Anything wrong?”

There was hesitation when Yuta parted his lips to speak, only to swallow words almost ready to spill. He sighed and said it anyway. “During the game I was told that Professor Jung came back so I went to him.”

“Oh! That’s why you left the pitch. I thought you were avoiding me on purpose,” Hansol said before he could think through it. Yuta looked at him, a bit surprised and confused. “N-nothing. I just noticed you disappeared.”

There was silence for a moment before Hansol decided to break it before it got too awkward. “So you had practice earlier?”

Yuta nodded. “Sort of. It was the last, unfortunately. Professor Jung is taking a leave.” His eyes grew wide, realizing it was news, one that he shouldn’t have told anybody yet. “I mean, don’t tell this to anyone. I’m pretty sure it’ll be announced soon but let’s keep it a secret.”

“I’m good at keeping secrets,” Hansol reassured.

Yuta chuckled although it was more of a dull reaction than amusement. He carried on, telling the rest of the story. Professor Jung was part of an Auror squad and that the Ministry had summoned him for an operation.

“Does...does that mean you won’t have anybody to review Defense with now?” Hansol was quick to realize. When Yuta nodded, Hansol didn’t bother asking for more details about Professor Jung. Yuta probably just knew the basics and Hansol couldn’t care less honestly. Besides his brain was thinking a bit too fast he had to take a few seconds to breathe and calm his head down.

“Your book was helpful though I think it’s enough—”

“When is Professor Jung leaving?” Hansol asked, not even minding that he interrupted Yuta mid-sentence.

“Next week, Tuesday. Why?”

“You see,” Hansol paused, looking at Yuta in the eye as if searching for any sign of interest. “Not that I’m boasting about it but I’m pretty good at Defense. Professor Jung could attest to that, I swear. I got an ‘Outstanding’ last year by the way.”

Suddenly, Yuta’s face brightened. Hansol smiled as he talked, picking up the signal and carrying on with the suggestion. “So maybe we can ask Professor Jung to like, uhm, I don’t know. Let me tutor you?”

Yuta was smiling at him but not a single word came out of his mouth. He looked rather amazed and Hansol wasn’t sure if it was because he gave the most brilliant idea in the world or he was contemplating if he should give in to it or not. It was, in the first place, a suggestion. Hansol would be broken if he’d say no but it wasn’t like he was going to forcefully take Yuta under his wings.

“Uhm...what do you think?” Hansol was so anxious. He remained silent, patiently waiting for any form of affirmative response from the other.

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” Yuta nodded. “I’m totally bad at it so you might want to be patient.” A tinge of pink crept his cheeks as he bowed his head, embarrassed of the confession. Not that Hansol wasn’t aware of it but he found it a little too adorable for his liking.

“I’ll talk to him later,” Hansol said. He wished he didn’t sound excited but then again, honestly, he didn’t care.




“Dude, you’re such a flirt,” Youngho shook his head, lips pulled to a grin. They were at the Great Hall, two of the few to grab their breakfast early. The lower years won’t be coming until an hour later so it was still quite safe to talk about it.

“I’m not,” Hansol denied although his voice faltered, earning a snort from his best friend. “I was just being helpful. I want him to pass O.W.L.s”

“And get into his pants. I can read between the lines,” Youngho said like it was the more important fact. Hansol could have taken offence but a part of him would not deny that so he opted not saying anything instead.

“Shut up.” Hansol said as he poured milk on his Pixie Puffs. “Anyway, Professor Jung said yes so you might not see me much during free time.”

Youngho suddenly stopped munching on fried sausages. “I’ll miss you,” he whined, pouting and batting his eyes.

“As if,” Hansol rolled his eyes. “Now that you’re dating somebody.”

“Aw, is my Hansollie jealous?” Youngho’s voice was high-pitched and squeaky.

“You’re fucking gross. I have my Yuta.”

“Yeah. That’s the fighting spirit,” Youngho chuckled. “Ten’s nice though.”

Hansol nodded. “Well, he looks like he makes good company. Happy for you.”

Youngho didn’t say anything, lips curled to what Hansol could only say was a nasty smile. He grabbed a slice of loaf, folded it in half, took a sausage and slid it in between the poor bread in the lewdest, most obscene way. “Also, that nice,” Youngho said, biting on the sandwich he just made.

Hansol felt offended not for himself but for the bread. “Didn’t you just start dating two days ago?”

Youngho wiggled his brows. “That doesn’t mean we never met before.”

Hansol rolled his eyes and emptied his glass of milk. “I don’t need to hear this.”




“So,” Yuta sighed. He was nervous his wand shook as he pointed it at the trunk. It’s his first session with Hansol and he felt so embarrassed and nerve-wracked at the same time. He had done this a few times but it’s been weeks since he practiced the Boggart-Banishing Charm and he only had one successful attempt. Also, he couldn’t help feeling anxious and conscious when this time, it was Hansol watching him.

“Just give it a try,” Hansol said. He had his wand at the locks. Whispering “Alohomora,” the trunk flipped open and the all-too familiar pink ball of fluff shot up. It was the same scene as weeks ago.

Butterflies filled the room and Yuta froze before they could even hover above him. There was a feeble attempt to say the incantation but it was too weak. Hansol intervened, walking calmly in front of Yuta, between him and the boggart. The amortal shape-shifter changed into a butchered human body but Hansol wasn’t affected. He muttered the charm and the body became an inflatable human balloon with a horrible yellow-green wig. A second later, the boggart returned to its cloud-like state, swirling back into the trunk. Hansol closed it.

“Sorry,” Yuta muttered. “See? I’m hopeless.”

“No, you’re not,” Hansol said. “You said you had progress with other spells. That’s not hopeless to me. You just need more practice.”

Yuta nodded. “I guess so.”

“One more?” Hansol asked and Yuta. This time Hansol stood beside Yuta. The trunk was unlocked and the boggart released. It was almost a replay of the earlier attempt.

Yuta fidgeted as he focused his eyes and wand at the forming butterflies. Fear almost overran him but he struggled against it. He stepped back. Then his left hand, his free hand, jerked and pulled the closest thing to it: Hansol’s arm. It was reflex, a rather subconscious action, and Hansol froze. Yuta kept his grip tight, seemingly either too focused or too afraid to notice.

“Riddikulus!”

Hansol thought it sounded weak, or probably it was the rush of blood in his head that his hearing was temporarily impaired, he wasn’t entirely sure. But when the butterflies became small beach balls with small wings, like fancy versions of the Golden Snitch, Hansol cared little now about the fingers wrapped around his wrist. Yuta flicked his wand and the boggart was thrown into the trunk. He tapped the wand again, closing the trunk.

“I did it!” Yuta exclaimed with a genuinely happy and proud face. “You saw that?”

“Yes! That was…uhm, amazing,” Hansol said. Then for a few seconds, they both stared at each other, eyes slowly pulled down to their hands. It wasn’t long before Yuta finally noticed his grasp. With a gasp, he immediately let go of Hansol’s wrist.

“I’m...sorry!” Yuta stuttered, red in the face. Hansol was, too, but he was quick to gather himself up and calm his confused emotions down.

“No, it’s okay. It’s fine. If that’s necessary to banish a boggart, by all means, I guess?” Again, Hansol spoke before thinking through what to say. Yuta only laughed although he was still clearly embarrassed. Hansol needed a segue so he could stop the impending awkward air to come.

“Just kidding. Maybe two more and we can move on to the next?” He asked. He moved to the side, quite a distance from Yuta this time. He didn’t want to do it but he had to. “I mean, well, I’d offer you my hand again but you can’t do that during O.W.L.s.”

Hansol tried to not sound as disappointed as he actually felt like but he made sense—he had to make sense. Yuta, the obedient student he was, understood. Surprisingly, the next two attempts were better. The first boggart, still a clump of butterflies, was turned into a balloon that wheezed noisily back into the trunk. The second attempt turned it into beach balls again. Yuta was definitely improving and the two of them were satisfied with the start of the first training day.

As agreed, the two moved on to the next jinxes and curses, or at least a review of what Yuta was supposed to know by now. Just when they thought things were turning out great, Hansol would realize that when Yuta said he sucked at Defense big time, he meant it big time. He couldn’t disarm a dummy wizard without disarming himself first. Flowers would burst out of the tip of his wand when he was supposed to do the Reductor Curse (how he’d do that was beyond Hansol’s comprehension). He could cast a basic Shield Charm though to Hansol’s delight but it was too weak to be even called defensive. Yet, despite how slow Yuta’s progress was, one thing for sure, Hansol was a very patient tutor.

“Stop saying sorry,” Hansol warned when for the third time, Yuta failed to cast a proper Disarming Charm and had repeatedly apologized for doing so. “Let me see one more time.”

Yuta took his position. Brows furrowed, apparent mixture of frustration and determination in his eyes, he yelled. “Expelliarmus!” Twirling his wand, a pink jet of light streamed out of it. He successfully hit the dummy on its chest, causing it to fall but the wand remained in its grasp.

“Better than the first tries!” Hansol exclaimed. “But you’re twisting it a bit too much.”

Without any warning, Hansol reached for Yuta’s hand that held the wand, and guided it to the proper movement. “One, two. Two twirls, then you pull it up.”

Yuta hand followed but he was hardly actively doing anything. He simply let Hansol move his hand. Hansol’s voice was soothing and distracting. The proximity of their bodies—and their faces—was not helping him either. Wondering if he had unintentionally charmed the room temperature to spike, Yuta breathed out, feeling warm all of a sudden.

Yuta was sure he only saw this on televisions back in the Muggle world but he never thought it could happen to him in real life. If he turned his face to his right, his lips would just be an inch away from Hansol’s and it triggered a surge of butterflies in his stomach.

“Did...did you get…” Hansol trailed off, voice drowning to silence. It was him who turned to his left so that the first thing he sees was his reflection on Yuta’s eyes.

Yuta panicked. He stepped back, exclaiming “Yes! Of course!” before pointing his wand at the dummy. Without any instruction, he took an offensive position and yelled. “Expelliarmus!” It was a dark red jet of light hitting the dummy’s arm. Its fake wand propelled out of its grip, hitting one of the empty potions glass and breaking it in an instant. They both flinched as the bottle shattered into pieces.

“Oh shit, sorry!” Yuta had his hand over his mouth. And so did Hansol. They were silent for a second then the next thing they knew, they were laughing.

“That was a good shot. But maybe...we should get a break first?” Hansol asked, chuckling as he grabbed the broom and swept the broken glasses. Yuta agreed, nodding silently, his whole face still flushed. He sat on one of the benches on the edge, grabbing his water jug and half-emptying it in a single drink.

Hansol smiled to himself as he continued to clean up the tiny mess. Holding Yuta’s hands and almost kissing him were definitely not part of his expectations for a one-on-one tutoring. But if every practice session would be like this, he would never say no to doing this everyday. And while seeing Yuta work his way in his Defense, it would be awesome to see their seemingly mutual feelings progress as well. He wasn’t dense anyway. He could feel it positively. Yuta liked him, too.




Things changed for Hansol and Yuta since their first practice session, or at least the frequency of their meeting at the common room. They would bump into each other at least twice a day, exchanging smiley hi’s and hello's, or short conversations at times. It wasn’t a surprise anymore that the idea of meeting Yuta everyday had become Hansol’s mood maker. Sometimes, he would even purposely eat breakfast late just so he could catch the fifth years and not-so-secretly steal glances from the other side of the table.

“I miss our breakfast dates,” Youngho said, pushing his lips out to a horrible pout that Hansol cringed really hard. They were at the school grounds, sitting on a bench, a few minutes early for their Quidditch practice game.

“You’re really gross, stop,” Hansol slapped him on the back. “And please, I’m pretty sure you like me out of your morning company. More time with your Slytherin boyfriend.”

“How dare you accuse your best friend of such things?” Youngho’s voice waved. He was being overly dramatic.

Hansol noticed a group of Gryffindor fifth years walking towards their direction, probably just to pass by, and he grew excited. As expected, Yuta was among them.

“Hey,” Hansol greeted, waving at him. “See you later!”

Yuta waved back, parting from his friends for a while and trotting towards Hansol. “Yes! By the way, I just need to finish some extra parchments for History. I might be late by fifteen to thirty.”

Hansol nodded. “Sure. No problem.”

“Cool. See you then!” Yuta waved again as he caught up with his peers now entering the Entrance Hall.

Hansol would almost fall off his seat when Youngho nudged him on the side too hard, lips curled to an all too familiar menacing grin. Hansol hit him on the thigh but Youngho would not stop poking him with his elbow.

“So,” Youngho began. Hansol was pretty sure of the kind of question that was to come. “Did you guys like...you know, already hit a homerun?”

“Homerun?” Hansol wished he would always had with him a Muggle dictionary because Youngho kept on using words Hansol hardly understood.

Youngho raised his brows. “Not sure how you call it here but,” he continued. Hansol was right. Then suddenly, Youngho began doing a short, quick series of lewd sounds while hilariously (but still obscenely) thrusting his hips. Hansol could only laugh in disbelief. “What the hell? I’m not like you! I don’t get into some hanky-panky before dating!”

“Look at you. You’re blushing,” Youngho pinched him on the side, one that was both tickling and painful. Hansol flinched.

“Okay, so there was this time that we almost kissed,” Hansol confessed. “And he held my hand. But that was an accident. And it was weeks ago.”

Youngho shook his head and began patting him on the back. “Step up the game, bro. Step up the game.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Youngho only shrugged. He stood up and grabbed his broomstick. “Chanyeol’s here. Let’s go.”

Hansol remained for a few seconds, his hand aimlessly searching for his own broomstick. He got himself wondering, actually. He and Yuta had been meeting for days—weeks actually—but he never had mustered the courage to confess, to actually tell the fifth year what he felt for him. But then again, Yuta had his priorities and Hansol presented himself to help him, not to draw him away from his more important goals. While Yuta might be responding in a rather positive and receptive manner to his subtle advances, Hansol still did not want to cross the line. Perhaps after O.W.L.s? Or maybe before the term would end? He couln’t decide. He sighed although it came out like a disgruntled groan.




There was only a week left before O.W.L.s and Yuta was more than grateful to Hansol for being the most patient tutor Hogwarts could possibly ever have. There were a number of more broken objects but it shouldn’t matter (at least until Professor Jung comes back). The more important thing right now was that Hansol proved to Yuta that his almost indestructible ineptitude in Defense was in fact not shatterproof at all.

On their last practice session, they went through all Defense spells that could possibly come out on this year’s O.W.L.s. As expected, and to Hansol’s delight, Yuta would do well in everything. They dueled at one point, Yuta successfully shielding himself thrice and disarming Hansol three minutes into the match. The more amazing thing was Hansol got to make Yuta conjure his Patronus, one that came to him easier than banishing a boggart which Hansol found strange and funny at the same time.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking but,” Hansol began the conversation when they took a break, munching on cauldron cakes Yuta brought to celebrate their last practice session. “What did you think of when you cast your Patronus Charm?”

“Secret,” Yuta said in a teasing and playful tone, chuckling as he broke a piece of a cake and threw it in his mouth. “But it’s something happy.”

Hansol shrugged. “Of course it has to be happy. It’s probably me.”

Yuta swallowed what he was eating and looked at Hansol with a raised brow, mouth half-open. “Excuse me, Mister Seeker?”

“Not me then?”

Yuta shook his head a little too much than necessary. “Definitely not.”

“I’m hurt.” Hansol pouted, his way of hiding actual disappointment in a feigned expression of dismay.

Yuta didn’t say anything. Instead, he stood up, poked Hansol’s still puffed cheek and laughed, running away from him and into the center of the room. Out of the blue, he began stretching and cracking knuckles. “Alright, ready for the boggart!” He exclaimed confidently.

Hansol blinked for a moment and then he started laughing. Yuta laughed back albeit whining why Hansol thought it was funny. Well, it wasn’t funny per se but it definitely was fun seeing Yuta in a lot more positive and self-confident state. He simply just couldn’t feel any prouder. Hansol jumped from his seat, pulled the familiar old, dark trunk. It shook as it got dragged on the floor. The boggart’s awake.

“Alright, go.” Hansol pulled the locks and the boggart shot up in the air.

The boggart quickly became a ball of pink fluff, transitioning into a swarm of butterflies just like it normally would. Except that, this time, it didn’t. The pink ball turned back into grey, melting onto the floor and taking an unrecognizable human-like form. Yuta stepped back, rolling his wand in his hand, eyes wide in surprise and confusion. Hansol also pulled his wand out; he was just as unsure as Yuta was. It could still be a boggart, but then who knew, it could be something else, too.

The dark-silver smoke settled and it twisted really quick, like how one would look like when somebody Disapparated. Yuta blinked, fingers tightly wrapped around his wand. The next thing he knew, there were two Hansol’s in front of him.

Hansol—the real Hansol—stood behind the new Hansol. Yuta could tell because the new one looked dangerous, eyes dark and heavy, face pale. The real one, on the other hand, had worry and confusion washed over his face.

“No,” Yuta muttered. His voice shook. “No. Not now.”

The new Hansol grinned. His lips parted slowly and three words spilled from it. Loud. Clear. “I hate you.”

Yuta tried to remain firm but his lips were trembling just as his hand was. He could not even point his wand right at the new Hansol. “R-Riddikulus! Riddikulus!”

Nothing happened. The new Hansol laughed. The sound felt like ice drawn slowly on every part of Yuta’s skin.

“I hate people like you.” He spoke again, just as chilling as his laughter. “You’re terrible. So terrible. Do you really think you can pass the O.W.L.s?”

“Shut up! Expelliarmus!”

Red light shot out of Yuta’s wand but the spell passed right through the new Hansol’s chest, doing nothing to him. Instead, the spell hit one of the windows, shattering glass into pieces.

“I hate you. Weak. Stupid. Dumb. I will never like you.”

“Stop!”

“I will never—”

“I said stop!” There was another stream of red light. It hit one of the tables, burning the surface.

“—ever—”

For every one step back Yuta did, the new Hansol would make a step forward. Yuta knew he—no, it—was a boggart but he could not understand why it took this form. His chest felt like boulders were crushing it. He thought the air had gone too cold, painful and suffocating, but it wasn’t it. It was the mixture of anger and sadness that felt like hands wrapped around his throat. He couldn’t feel his body; he was going numb.

“Help…” Yuta mumbled, a desperate cry.

“—love you back.”

Yuta’s legs were shaking so badly he could fall on his knees. But before he could even collapse, Hansol, the real one, stood between him and the boggart. The other Hansol, suddenly gone, dissolved to a swirl and shifted its form to a dead body—Yuta’s body—bloodied, horribly mutilated. Yuta was unsure what to feel seeing a vivid image of himself in such condition but he was too tired to care. Hansol meanwhile struggled, a wave of shock hitting him hard as he stepped back. But he held his wand tighter, pointing it at the body. Then he opened his mouth.

“Riddikulus!” The boggart turned to a mannequin of unequal body proportions. It wore bad makeup, an excessive amount of blush-on on its cheeks, rainbow eye shadows, and purple hair that grew only on one side of its head. It indeed looked ridiculous.

Hansol swirled his wand and the boggart got pushed onto the open trunk. It swirled again, turning into grey mist as the trunk’s lid fell down, locking the boggart inside.

“Hey,” Hansol said. He turned around, holding Yuta on the shoulders.

“No, that’s...that’s… Fuck, sorry.” Yuta stuttered as he tried to budge away from Hansol’s grasp, his eyes brimming with tears. Soon he was crying.

Hansol wrapped Yuta in his arms before he could even run. “No. Don’t go. Please,” he whispered. His hug grew tighter even if Yuta tried to push him away. It wasn’t long before he grew tired, giving in to what could be the only place of comfort for him right now. Hansol caressed the back of Yuta’s head. Despite his own confusion, he tried to understand Yuta’s position—the embarrassment of suddenly being thrown into a roller coaster of disastrous emotions, drowned in real pain caused by something that wasn’t, in the first place, real. But then again he might be wrong. Boggarts never lie. It was real. It was real fear.

The whole ordeal was sudden, totally unexpected. It placed Yuta in the most uncomfortable revelation while at the same time attacked at the very core of his anxiety. It was a situation that couldn’t be stopped even if it meant shattering the person wholly. Yet, Hansol couldn’t help but feel guilty. In the midst of the overwhelming worry and pain, a part of him, that tiny but powerful ego, felt excited of what was to happen. It was the confirmation he had been wanting to see, wanting to hear: Yuta liked him. Yuta had fallen for him.

Hansol hushed Yuta as he kept on spewing words, mostly apologies, and it pained Hansol more. There was nothing to apologize for. He did nothing wrong. And Hansol didn’t know what to do now.

Or probably he did.

“I’m really sorry,” Yuta said in between staggered breaths. “Let me go. Please just—”

“Sorry,” Hansol muttered. “I can’t. I really can’t.”

Suddenly, Hansol held Yuta’s face, looking at him straight in the eyes. It was rather intense, almost threatening, and for a moment Yuta wondered if Hansol was angry. But there was no time to ponder on it because a second later, Hansol leaned to kiss him on the lips. Yuta could only swallow the gasp caught in his throat, failing to escape his mouth.

The shock was there for a moment, reverberating in every part of him, but it frittered away as he melted into the kiss, chaste and warm. Yuta gave in, responding to the soft touch of Hansol’s lips on his. He tasted with his tongue and Yuta opened his mouth a bit, letting out a soft, low moan.

At that point, Hansol backed away as if he got burned. “I’m sorry. Oh god, that was wrong. I’m really sorry.”

Yuta stood there in silence, watching Hansol as he turned around, a hand on his forehead. He was still in a state of confusion to properly comprehend what just happened.

“I...okay, sorry.” Hansol spoke nervously, turning his back on Yuta. “I shouldn’t have... I didn't—”

He made a frustrated groan and turned to face Yuta again. “Listen. No need to be sorry. You don’t need to be ashamed. So please, please. Stop saying sorry.”

Hansol took a deep breath. “It was a boggart,” he continued. “It wasn’t me. That boggart would never be me. You know I wouldn’t say those things. I wouldn’t even think of saying those things. In fact...in fact I’d say the opposite.”

“What…”

“I like you Yuta.” Pause. “No, I think I love you. I love you okay? I know this isn’t the most appropriate time to say this but...really. I love you.”

Yuta remained speechless. His wide eyes suggested that he still wasn’t grasping things but there was no indication that Hansol was going to stop. The words just continuously flowed out of his mouth.

“I don’t care if you sucked at Defense. Well...wait, I probably do but that shouldn’t matter now because I saw you change. You became better, you became stronger. And I’m really happy that I was a huge part of how...how you gained your confidence back. You were shy and reserved and I thought that was adorable but when I saw a strong, confident Yuta, I...I realized I’ve fallen in love with him more.”

“I don’t understand.” Yuta had stopped crying. He sniffed, wiping his wet face with the sleeves of his robes.

“What I mean to say is,” Hansol heaved a sigh, pausing for a second as he gathered his thoughts. “Don’t be sorry for becoming a better wizard. And don’t be sorry for liking me. Because I like it when you’re strong. And I like you. I really do.”

There was a short and soft chuckle escaping Yuta’s sealed lips. Then he was smiling. “You’re giving me butterflies.”

Hansol smiled back, his tense shoulders relaxing now. “Just because you no longer fear them.”

Without warning, Yuta grabbed Hansol’s arm and yanked him closer. Then he pressed his lips onto the older, kissing him for the second time. It’s a long, less reserved one as Yuta let Hansol push his tongue in his mouth, continuing what was interrupted by a wordy, dramatic confession. When they broke, they were both red in their faces, lips wet and swollen.

“You know what,” Hansol began, his arms now around Yuta’s waist. “Youngho said you were great at Charms, bad at Defense.”

“Uh, am I supposed to feel good about that?” Yuta asked.

“I just realized it’s true,” Hansol said. “You got me charmed. And today, I got past your defenses.”

Yuta blushed, playfully punching Hansol in the chest. “Not the whole of my defenses. Yet.”

Hansol snickered, lips pulled to a sly grin. “I’m in no hurry. I’ll wait until you’d take it down for me.”




The Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw game was the longest of the year. It didn’t come as a surprise. If the Ravenclaw won, then they’d get the Quidditch Cup; if not, then it’d go to the Gryffindors. So everyone knew it was a tough match. It ended two hours and thirty-seven minutes later, when the score was almost tied—Gryffindor, 140 to Ravenclaw, 160—and finally, Hansol caught the Snitch.

The common room was on a rage, a joyous euphoric one. Everyone celebrated, and the whole lounge was jampacked. Students whose faces were painted scarlet and gold surrounded the members of the team. Food and pastries topped tables on one side, pumpkin juice on the other. And of course Hansol was at the center of it all, the hero, saving—and ending—the game to get the most wanted sports cup.

But what set this celebration different, or at least better, for Hansol was that he didn’t have to frustratingly look for the person who just gave him the great daily boost for the things he should do. He was right there, standing at one corner, watching him with a smile, sometimes laughing as he watched everyone go wild, eyes curling to wonderful crescents Hansol had always adored.

Hansol met Yuta at the dorms which was almost empty sans the very few students who were already deep in their slumber. They sat by the large window of the tower, sharing a plate of pastries and a glass of pumpkin juice. There was a fireworks display earlier and they decided to see it from the tower instead of the grounds. Hansol thought it would be the closest to a romantic date they could have in Hogwarts.

“You can’t stop smiling. Enjoyed the celebrity life, I guess?” Yuta asked, picking the raisin toppings off a muffin.

“I’ve always been a celebrity.” Hansol answered with a smug grin. Then he made annoying, kissy faces. Yuta was in a great mood so he gave in, leaning forward to give Hansol a peck on the lips.

That was cheesy. Terribly cheesy he could hear Youngho yelling at him even if he wasn’t even around (he probably was with his Slytherin boyfriend doing their own kind of ‘celebration’). But tonight was his night and he could be just as sappy as he could possibly be. Besides, spending even a simple moment with his most favorite person would always be the best part of this victory party.

“Hey, Yuta,” Hansol began as they silently eat on a slice of cake. Yuta hummed in response.

“Do you know how it feels to catch a Snitch?”

Yuta looked at him, half-curious half-weirded out. “Uh, no. Haven’t even touched any Snitch.”

“Well,” Hansol took the glass of pumpkin juice and took a sip on it. “When a Seeker catches the Snitch, it’s overwhelming. It feels great. And it’s not simply because you won the game. There’s something….magical about the Snitch. Like you want to keep it, or you never want to let go of it.”

Yuta nodded. “Sounds...cool.”

“And you know what,” Hansol continued. “I think you’re my Snitch. Because you’re great and I want to keep you and I don’t want to let you go.”

Yuta looked at him with a blank face. Then he groaned, rubbed his forehead, and shivered. “Enough,” he said, grabbing the pumpkin juice from Hansol’s hand and putting it behind him. “That’s enough sugar for tonight. You’re no longer having any of it.”

“You’re blushing!”

“I’m not,” Yuta bit his lip, trying to stop the urge to smile. He was failing. “And stop being gross.”

“I’m not gross. I’m adorable!”