Chapter Text
Life at Hogwarts will never be boring, Minho was certain of that.
As a pureblood, his education had been strict: private tutors along with his parents as a child, long and exhaustive courses about the etiquette and formalities of elite, wealthy wizarding society. He had been exposed to magic at an early age thanks to his mother who wanted him to know basic theory despite not being able to cast spells yet.
The great Lee family only had one heir, one child, so his parents made sure to give him a tight circle early on within the rightful pureblood families they had connections with. That was how Seo Changbin and Hwang Hyunjin came into his life.
Slightly younger than him, the two boys had been wary of Minho at first. Not because of his family name or about his long, curious stares, but because of his accidental magic. Sometimes, he could feel it brimming right under his skin, like it couldn’t be contained and eagerly awaited to be used. Of course, as a child, his emotions were strong. One little push and another tea room would end up either blown up, with debris scattered across his mother’s beautiful garden, or a prey to the flames.
Knowing that, he couldn’t blame Changbin and Hyunjin for not wanting to play with him when he was moody or annoyed after a particularly dreadful dancing lesson. Just like any relationship, they had simply needed time to get to know each other.
They grew up and became inseparable.
Hyunjin being the youngest of their trio, plus seeing the elegant beauty he slowly became over the years, with his long black hair and his charming features, both Minho and Changbin had grown protective of him.
Changbin had been a noisy child, whining for attention and crying every time he fell during their time playing outside. They often remembered candid moments when he would still ask for a kiss to soothe his pain. All grown up, a simple episkey did it.
Now, looking at them two bickering while on their way to platform nine and three quarters in order to take the train that would lead him to his fifth year at Hogwarts, Minho couldn’t help but reminisce. When he had received his first letter from the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Changbin and Hyunjin had cried heavy tears at the prospect of only seeing him during christmas and easter breaks. He had gotten on the train with wet shoulders, and their parents had pulled them away from him while giving apologetic glances around for the ruckus their children caused.
He received letters from them almost every two days, which warmed his heart since their friendship had come to mean a lot to him.
The next year, Minho was there to applaud when Changbin joined him at the Gryffindor table, both wearing the bracelets Hyunjin had made for them before they had to leave him behind.
One more year, and Hyunjin joined them in the red and gold house as well. To say they were overjoyed would be an understatement.
They spent late evenings talking, sneaking into each others’ dorm rooms, telling each other funny stories from their day since they weren’t in the same years.
“I made more friends.” Hyunjin told them one evening when they were sitting in the common room, right in front of the fireplace. “Another Gryffindor, a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin.”
Changbin had choked on his hot chocolate while Minho glanced up from their platter of wizard’s chess with an arched eyebrow.
“A snake?!” The second oldest exclaimed once he somewhat managed to compose himself. “Hyunjin, you can’t be serious! They bring nothing but trouble! They are so self-centered and their disgusting ideology is nothing but madness-”
He tuned their conversation out, knowing all too well where it was headed.
Minho, Changbin and Hyunjin had been raised against blood purity. His parents, in particular, had been very adamant that he never judged someone based on their background. Both ravenclaws, they had witnessed the intelligence and wit both half-bloods and muggleborns had that some purebloods lacked because everything had been handed to them on silver platters. They had made it their mission to raise their only child with a critical mind, and the option to make his own first opinion before blindly trusting someone's judgement.
“Changbin-ah.” Minho cut through the other’s rant. “Let him explain first. We’ll see from there.”
Hyunjin, relieved that they hadn’t pointedly rejected the prospect of making a friend in Slytherin, quickly spoke up.
“He is really nice, Hyungs, I swear! He didn’t know where the potion classroom was and you know how Professor Snape is when a student comes in late.” Minho and Changbin grimaced, both having had run-ins with the stern Professor. “So, naturally I offered him to walk with me and Felix, the Hufflepuff, and he said other Slytherins had refused to help him.”
That had made him pause, holding a fallen pawn, while Changbin had frowned.
“What do you mean they didn’t help him? Every older student is ready to help the younger ones.” At least, they had thought so at that time.
But Hyunjin had shaken his head.
“He is a half-blood, Hyungs. Meaning they ignore him or treat him like he doesn’t belong with them.”
In a way, it wasn’t surprising coming from the one house that mainly was composed of blood purity preachers. Still, it didn’t settle well with him that they would leave one of their own behind just like that.
The two olders had glanced at each other, silently agreeing, before they had asked to meet those new friends. The blinding smile they had received had marked the start of their new friend group.
“-hyung! Minho-hyung! Are you listening to me?”
Minho blinked a few times, his mind brought back to the present where a frowning Felix was waving a hand in front of his face. The Hufflepuff had taken a liking to them right upon their first meeting. Now two years later, he still liked to hold their elbows while walking.
Lee Felix, whose family name made the older Gryffindor immediately take him under his wing, was a sweetheart. Muggleborn but very intuitive with magic, he had easily found a place with them.
“He is weirder than usual today…” Han Jisung, a fellow Gryffindor and a half-blood, commented beside the Hufflepuff.
“You are weird yourself with your stupid obsession over chocolate frog cards.” Hyunjin sneered before more bickering ensued.
Hyunjin and Jisung had had a rocky start. Both Gryffindors had a lot of pride and liked to tease, though once one was vexed he retaliated harder, which led to a snowball effect. Every. Single. Time.
“Calm down, you two. No need to fight over something this insignificant.” Kim Seungmin, their only Slytherin, huffed from where he was reading in the compartment’s corner opposite of Minho.
He shook his head and tilted it toward Felix, who was still waiting for his attention.
“Yes, Felix? What is it?”
“I heard the Triwizard Tournament would take place at Hogwarts this year! Could you tell me more about it? I have only heard of it from other students while waiting for departure.” The muggleborn asked, curiosity shining in his round eyes.
Glancing at Changbin and Hyunjin, Minho thought about what to reveal. On one hand, the tournament was advertised as entertainment and a way for three schools to strengthen bonds while having one of their students each competing for a cup.
On the other hand, the truth was that those trials were lethal and the whole event was simply a dangerous ordeal put in place by adults who would never put themselves in those situations.
“I will not lie to you.” That was one of Minho’s peculiarities, he hated lying. “That tournament is very dangerous. Entering it means possibly losing your life trying to survive tasks that have the only purpose of threatening children to entertain adults. Unfortunately, at our young ages, the promise of eternal glory is far too tempting. And for the less fortunate, one thousand galleons is a great prize when the school supply lists get longer year to year.”
The more he talked, the less Felix smiled. He felt a little guilty, but illusions were only sweet lies.
“Has anyone… died during one before?” The Hufflepuff asked quietly, visibly afraid of the answer.
It was Changbin who answered, nodding with a grim expression.
“Several times, which was why it got discontinued. Why they decided to bring it back, I will never understand…”
“Probably because the relations between schools lessened.” Seungmin said, glancing up from the potion book he was reading. “However, I heard they decided to add an age restriction this time. Fifth year and up, right?”
Minho nodded, remembering how his Hogwarts letter had mentioned it. And how pale his parents had gotten at the news.
“Yes, my parents were glad to hear I wouldn’t be able to participate, not that I would have anyway.” Hyunjin scoffed. “Who knows what they planned for the tasks.”
Many scenarios were possible, but nothing would prepare them for the reality of the Tournament. When Minho looked up, he noticed Jisung, Felix and Seungmin looking at him. He simply arched an eyebrow, asking a silent question.
“Are you going to participate, Hyung?” Jisung asked, curious. “You are in the age range.”
Flashes of his mother begging him not to put his name in the Goblet Of Fire while his father stood there, tears welling up in his eyes at the possibility of losing his only son, invaded his mind. Minho hadn’t even considered it.
However, upon seeing how devastated his parents had been, he had easily made a decision.
“No, I won’t. Both because I don’t see the appeal of it, and above all, I don’t want to worry my parents.”
They all nodded, and even Seungmin relaxed after hearing his words. They weren’t exactly close, but no one could deny they cared about each other.
“Good. After hearing what you said, I don’t think I would be able to watch you go through those tasks.” Felix mumbled before he found another topic to change the subject. “So, what are the two other schools?”
“Durmstrang and Beauxbaton.” Seungmin supplied, going back to his book.
“In more extensive words.” Changbin said while pointedly looking at the Slytherin, who shrugged. “Durmstrang is located in Scandinavia and reputed for its courses on dark magic. Apparently, the discipline there is very strict because they form fighters. On the contrary, Beauxbatons is renowned for their high-ranking education and their elegance. The Academy is located in France, and their talent mostly lies in enchantments. I have heard many of their students were Veela descendants as well.”
“We have to thank them for the moving portraits. They learn such arts and frankly speaking, if Minho-hyung and Changbin-hyung weren’t set on going to Hogwarts, I would have begged them to go there instead.” Hyunjin said, thinking every word.
It made Minho’s heart ache with guilt. He knew the younger had a true passion for arts. Him and Changbin had promised they would accompany Hyunjin to France, once his years at Hogwarts were done, to follow a specialization there. They refused to leave him alone in another country.
“However, underestimating Beauxbatons’ students is a mistake.” Seungmin said from his corner. “They count on that and before you know it, they are several steps ahead.”
Minho nodded, none of the three schools were less competent than the others, but Durmstrang was the main menace. Dark magic was forbidden in the other two.
He looked out the window when the train’s horn interrupted their discussion. Hogwarts was coming into view, it was time for them to change into their robes.
It was their second year all changing together, backs turned to each other, and it was less awkward than during the previous year. Minho huffed fondly when he noticed Felix struggling with his yellow and black tie despite the many times they had tried to teach him simple ways to do it. Changbin always patiently talked him through it, amused and soft spoken.
Soon enough, four red robes, one yellow and one green stood in the compartment. Minho slipped his wand into his robe’s pocket and smiled upon seeing the rest of the group mirroring his gesture.
Out of the group, three wands had dragon heartstrings as their core, and three had unicorn hair.
Seungmin’s wand was made of dogwood, rendering it quirky and mischievous. They have been known to perform outstanding spells under great pressure. Dragon heartstrings core, which added power to enchantments. However, those wands often refused non-verbal magic.
Felix’s wand was made of english oak, which preferred owners who felt a strong affinity with nature magic, the creatures and plants that are vital for the wizardkind. It hadn’t been a surprise to learn that his wand core was unicorn hair. It was said Merlin’s wand had been made of the same wood.
Jisung’s wand was made of hawthorn, both suited to healing magic and also adept at curses. That peculiar wood seems more at home with an owner of complicated nature. However, with unicorn hair as its core, it helped temper the most negative thoughts. The wand will send pulses if touched during those times, showing support to their owner.
Hyunjin’s wand was made of hazel, known to reflect their owner’s emotional state. It absorbs inner turmoil and changes it into a destructive explosion. Seeing as the wand core was a unicorn hair, upon the Gryffindor’s death, the wand will die by his side, remaining loyal to him only.
Changbin’s wand was made of ebony, highly suited to combative magic. It is the happiest in the hands of those who are courageous and unapologetically themselves. With dragon heartstrings as its core, it made a perfect wand for duellists. Ebony wands were found both in Auror ranks, and among the dark wizards.
Looking down at his own wand, Minho let his fingers trail down the intricate designs resembling unknown runes. Cypress, destined for wizards who would die a heroic death. The wands find their soulmates among the brave, the bold and the self-sacrificing. Just like Changbin, dragon heartstrings had made his wand suited for intense duels.
Mister Ollivander’s words still echoed through his mind like he had found his wand just the day before.
“Cypress wands are for those who are unafraid to confront the shadows in their own and others’ natures, Mister Lee.” The wandmaker always had words that rang deep.
Feeling the Hogwart’s express coming to a stop at Hogsmeade’s station, he carefully grabbed his Gryffindor trunk and followed behind Hyunjin. Carriages were waiting for them since the boats were only for the first years.
After a slight moment of hesitation, and to both Minho and Seungmin’s pleasure, the rest of the group dragged them into one carriage. It was cramped, making Jisung, Felix and Changbin laugh at their awkward positions.
“Whose elbow is digging into my side?” Hyunjin grumbled, trying to get it away.
“It’s mine, sorry.” Felix chuckled, an apologetic smile on his lips.
The journey to the castle was chaotic, but Minho figured it made great memories for him to reminisce. Or perhaps, he could even use it as fuel to create a patronus. He learned it in his third year and it had taken him days before he managed to get a corporeal one. A cat, which he had been more than happy to see.
Upon arriving before Hogwart’s entrance, they left their trunks in the carriage, knowing they would find them in their dorm rooms after dinner. They chatted all the way to the Great Hall, then waved when Felix and Seungmin had to go to their House’s tables. Minho always made sure to keep an eye on them from the Gryffindor table.
First, the first years’ sorting. Nostalgia hit him right in the face, just like it did every single year. He remembered being alone, sitting on the stool with the sorting hat talking in his mind, his thoughts focused on his two friends who weren’t there. He knew no one in the crowd, and right there, he decided Changbin and Hyunjin would never know how that felt.
Naturally, The sorting hat chose Gryffindor for him. Not Hufflepuff. For the simple reason that Minho wouldn’t hesitate to throw himself into danger for them. Brave, fierce and determined.
He applauded for every child, no matter the house they were sorted in. Changbin, Hyunjin and Jisung followed suit, taking example on him even for Slytherin. They had a friend in that house now. One right couldn’t erase hundreds of wrongs, but Minho only cared about that one right.
When the last first year hopped down the stool to join the Ravenclaw table, Dumbledore stood up. Their Headmaster often did the same speech, but not this year.
“As you all should know, Hogwarts has the great honor to hold an ancient event after over two hundred years of discontinuation. However, to avoid an unfortunate situation, the Ministry of Magic decided to add an age restriction. Only the students starting from fifth to seventh year will be allowed to participate in the tournament.”
Exclamations erupted through the room, which made Minho shake his head at how brainwashed those kids had been.
With a gesture of his wand, Dumbledore activated the Goblet Of Fire, which had been encased in an intricate case that melted away with magic. A blue flame burned in its center. The principle was quite simple: one had to write their name on a piece of parchment, then they had to throw it into the fire to validate their candidacy into the lethal tournament.
Turning back to them, Hogwart’s Headmaster clapped once to draw their attention.
“Now, dear students, I would like you to warmly welcome the two schools which, for several centuries, have been competing against ours. Please welcome the refined and elegant students from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic!”
The large and heavy doors of the Great Hall slowly opened, letting in girls dressed in fine blue silk uniforms. It was obvious they heavily relied on their beauty, seeing as the enchantments they used were meant to embellish their appearance more. Sparkling purple butterflies filled the room along with floral scents and that peculiar sensation Minho had during summer evenings.
They indeed were of great beauty, but there was a quote: just like in nature, the prettiest things are often the most poisonous.
Their Headmistress was quite tall, which made Changbin speculate about her possibly having giant blood in her family tree. It could be plausible.
“Thank you for this stunning display of magic, very beautiful!” Dumbledore said at the attention of the French students. “Madame Maxime, what a pleasure to have you back in the castle.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Albus. It has indeed been a while.” The French Headmistress smiled.
They then stood side by side to welcome Durmstrang while the Beauxbaton girls sat where they found places at the four Houses’ tables.
The Scandinavian school's entrance was a mix of acrobatic figures, followed with intricate illusions and the complicated art of using the element of fire, known as the most capricious. A silent respect fell on the room as they gave a strong first impression. Minho could sense how heavy the air around them felt, and it was obvious they were indeed well trained.
Karkaroff, known for a rather dark past, confidently walked up to the two who were patiently waiting to welcome him. The three talked before Dumbledore announced they would have only a few days to put their names in the goblet. He also added the age restriction ring made out of smoke.
That evening, lying in the comfortable red and gold bed, Minho thought about the tournament. He still had no intention to join. He just couldn’t help wondering about who would.
That was how he found himself sitting on one of the tables scattered around the Great Hall during his empty period, observing the students who dropped pieces of parchment in the blue fire. Changbin and Seungmin were with him.
“Another Durmstrang student… I suppose their Headmaster made them train harder to prepare them.” The other Gryffindor huffed, his eyes narrowing on the tall man who dropped a neatly folded paper while another anxiously waited for him.
However, something drew his attention away from them. Murmurs had suddenly started, and when he sat up to see what was happening, a blond head was breaking through the crowd. Minho could recognize him anywhere.
Bahng Chan.
The Slytherin’s dark eyes were focused on the Goblet Of Fire, holding a folded piece of parchment between his pointer finger and middle finger. His walk exuded confidence, and upon watching more closely, the Gryffindor could see his jaws were clenched.
Bahng Chan was a year above Minho, known as Hogwart’s prodigy. The Slytherin was skilled in every class, top of the school, and handsome. But that wasn’t all there was to him, Minho would snap his wand if he happened to be mistaken about that.
There was something in his dark eyes, some kind of melancholy, and the want to be understood instead of being treated like a public figure. Minho’s eyes always seemed to find him in a room, in a crowd, but those dark eyes never once found his. Fearing his curiosity was misplaced, or simply too weird, the Gryffindor had tried to refrain from seeking out the Slytherin again.
And for two years, he succeeded in that task. Despite the whisper he would hear about him in the corridors, Minho avoided glancing in his direction.
Right now, however, his eyes were glued to Bahng Chan.
Minho took in how his green robes swished behind him as he stepped into the circle of smoke. He followed the hand and watched as the square of parchment turned into ashes. A slight pang of dread erupted in his chest. For some reason, the idea of being forced to watch the Slytherin fight for his life made him feel worse than uncomfortable. They had never spoken to each other, and yet…
The Gryffindor lifted his eyes, deciding to take one last glance before he would try to ignore Bahng Chan’s existence once again.
But Chan was already looking at him. His features, sculpted and handsome, were illuminated by the blue light of the fire.
Those enigmatic eyes that revealed more than he would know, gazed into Minho’s. It lasted only a few seconds before the Slytherin turned, disappearing through the crowd and out the door.
What was that? What was that supposed to mean?
A frown overtook his features and quickly, his blood burned through his veins. Those eyes. They had seemed to grimace at him, accusing him of having an easy life without the need to compete into a dangerous tournament for a few galleons.
For some reason, that didn’t sit right with him.
For some reason, he felt the need to prove him wrong.
Then, the faces of his parents popped into his mind, and he could feel a headache growing within his forehead.
“So, Bahng Chan is taking part in the tournament.” Seungmin hummed. “If he gets chosen, he will win without a doubt.”
“Really?” Changbin asked, turning to the Slytherin. “What makes you say that?”
The younger turned to look at the students who were dropping their names in the fire.
“He is very talented, no matter the subject. He is a true mystery, a loner who sits at the top of the Slytherin house. Even Professor Snape seems to appreciate him.”
“Probably because he is good at potions…” Minho mumbled.
Despite being a Gryffindor, the dark Professor had acknowledged his talent at potions and even advised him to read a few potioneers’ journals to gain more knowledge.
“Well, it’s getting a little boring here. Let’s move?” Changbin asked, looking at the other two.
Seungmin shrugged and got up, so Minho instinctively followed.
Throughout the rest of the day and until he was lying in his bed, his mind was at war. Both sides of his brain exposed pros and cons to each other.
If he were to participate in the tournament, he could show his worth and expose his talents, prove to himself that no matter the trials, he could survive them. If he won, he could give the galleons to Jisung, Felix and Seungmin, who needed them more than he did. Furthermore, and he would never really admit that to himself, if he was the one competing, Bahng Chan’s eyes would be set on him.
This time, he wouldn’t be the one watching.
However, on the other side of the same coin, death was a possibility, heroic or not. Injuries were a high possibility, there was zero chance he would get out of the Triwizard Tournament unscattered. His friends and his parents would worry about him, Minho could already feel their distress.
With a sigh, he quietly parted the closed curtains surrounding his bed. He needed fresh air.
Minho often walked around the castle after curfew, it was a good way to empty or to soothe his never-ending chain of thoughts. Plus, there was something comforting about how quiet the castle was when everyone was asleep, like he didn’t have to entertain expectations anymore. When no one was around, he was simply Minho.
His feet led him in front of two heavy doors. He sucked in a deep breath before he slowly pushed one open enough to slip inside the Great Hall. The magical sky was tranquil, showing the milky way and the floating candles had dimmed. Further away, next to the Headmaster stand, the Goblet Of Fire was projecting its blue light around, staining the floor, the tables, and his clothes when he stood in front of it.
Slowly, his right hand reached into his pocket to grab the piece of parchment he had ripped from an old essay to hurriedly write his name on it during one of the times he thought entering the tournament would be a good idea. He spent the day thinking yes then no, yes, no, and the same all over again.
In the end, to put an end to his torment, he lifted his scribbled name up.
The chances to be picked were minimal. It wouldn’t be him, so why did he have to make it such a big deal?
His fingers hesitated only a second before they let go. His heart sank while the parchment burned, sealing his fate. He stood there for a few minutes, stress and guilt rising into his throat at the fact that he had just betrayed his parents.
What was done was done. No going back was possible.
Minho didn’t sleep for the rest of the night, too harassed by what ifs.
Casting a tempus, he decided to go take an early breakfast. Changbin, Hyunjin and Jisung wouldn’t be up for at least an hour anyway.
He yawned when he sat at the Gryffindor table, noticing a few students scattered across the three other long tables. A voice interrupted his inner debate about whether he should pick pancakes or scrambled eggs, making him lift his head.
“May I sit with you?” Minho blinked at the slight accent.
“Sure, welcome to Hogwarts.” He said, offering a hand.
The other shook it with a smile, his Durmstrang uniform clashing against his features. The student had black hair, handsome features which changed from soft to intimidating depending on whether or not he was smiling, and he held himself with confidence.
“My name is Choi Soobin.” He said.
“Lee Minho, nice to meet you.”
“Are you ready for the champions reveal?” Soobin asked, grabbing a few pieces of bacon.
Minho sighed, shrugging.
“To be honest, all of Hogwarts is betting on one student.”
“Oh really? Who?” The Durmstrang student asked, curious.
“Bahng Chan.” Minho hummed, feeling the name on his tongue. “It’s the blond Slytherin, there.”
Minho was trying to discreetly point at him, but as if he had sensed it, the Slytherin looked up.
The Gryffindor quickly folded his finger and cleared his throat, looking away first.
“Anyway, have you put your name in the Goblet?” Minho asked to divert the conversation.
Soobin nodded.
“Indeed I have. All of us did, really, so we are most eager to see who will be chosen.”
“Good thing they are doing this in the morning, then!” Minho said, trying to sound enthusiastic.
Slowly, the Great Hall filled up, and his friends joined them. Yeonjun, Soobin’s boyfriend as Minho will learn, joined their group as well. Endless chatter filled the room quickly, simply to try and forget the nerves twisting in their stomachs.
When Dumbledore stood up, when they heard the sound of his chair drag against the floor, silence fell. Deafening.
Two officials from the Ministry were there since the chosen champions would be tied to the tournament through a magical contract, and they were still minors.
“The awaited moment has finally arrived. Three names, chosen by the Goblet, will set those students in the history of the Triwizard Tournament.” Dumbledore announced while trailing a hand on the cup before he stepped away.
The blue flame flickered, then turned a scarlet red before it spat a slightly burned piece of parchment. It floated lazily into the air until Dumbledore caught it.
Minho could feel it, the burning absence of air in his lungs, the intense beating of his heart while his hands felt cold. Everyone had stopped breathing, awaiting the first name.
“From Beauxbatons, Jeon Soyeon!”
The French students broke into cheers, to which Hogwarts’ and Durmstrang’s students joined.
Jeon Soeyon, with her long black hair and sharp beauty, smiled while she stood up. Her walk was full of confidence as she gently took her paper from Dumbledore to slip through the teacher’s reserved door on the right side of their table.
The cheers and applause settled down, now awaiting the second name. Soon enough, the flame turned red again, spitting another fuming piece of parchment. Minho watched, transfixed, as his Headmaster caught it.
“From Durmstrang, Choi Soobin!”
The Gryffindor turned, applauding his new acquaintance while he stood up. Every single Durmstrang student was slamming their hands on the tables, creating a loud cacophony. It only settled down when Soobin slipped into the small hidden door.
Now, this was the moment of truth.
Minho felt cold when the flames turned red. He felt like his heart was about to jump out of his chest when the piece of paper was spat. It slowly came down, agonizingly so.
Dumbledore grabbed it, lifted his head and then pronounced the words that settled his fate once more.
“From Hogwarts, Lee Minho!”
Frozen inside. Buzzing in his ears.
Despite the applause, despite the fake confidence he slipped in place while he stood up, thanks to his pureblood education, his eyes found them. Felix, at the Hufflepuff table, looking pale and utterly terrified. Jisung, sitting to his left, tears of surprise and worry slowly welling up in his eyes. Hyunjin, opposite of him, his hands shaking while his eyes begged for him to say it was a mistake. Changbin, sitting to his right, looking up at him with a crestfallen expression.
When he turned to step over the bench he had been sitting on, he found Seungmin’s eyes. The younger, who was usually so stoic, was pale and frowning in worry. A little to his left, another pair of eyes captivated him.
Bahng Chan was staring at him.
Minho clenched his jaws and felt his mask slip for one second. Whatever the Slytherin saw on his face, it seemed to surprise him. Interest was burning in his eyes, adorning them of a new light.
All because of him. All because Minho wanted his attention.
With his head high and anger brimming beneath his skin, he walked to Dumbledore, who squeezed his shoulder in a gesture that would have been reassuring in other circumstances.
Just because of his curiosity, because he had failed to push a stupid crush away, he found himself in a situation he could have easily avoided.
Now holding the still fuming piece of parchment harboring his name, Minho made his way to that small door himself. Once closed, silence welcomed him.
Berating himself wouldn’t help, getting lost in his head would only render his death certain.
No logic, no explanation would make his decision less foolish than it was.
After all, it was well-known Gryffindors were foolish and reckless. He simply had to make sure he wouldn’t die in this tournament. Simply...