The sun cascades its rays upon the huge, eight-story high building, illuminating even the most concealed corners of the castle. Only a few clouds can be spotted in the vast expanse of blue, like accidental white on a canvas. A light breeze blows through the vivid green leaves, creating a rustling noise, mixed with a chirping choir of birds.

All in all, it is a perfect day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and both students and teachers couldn’t have asked for anything better.

Even though they are locked in a classroom.

On every other day, Kyungsoo would be ecstatic about potion class—his favourite class—but today he finds himself staring out of the window longingly. His gaze drifts back to his notes, if they could even be called that way. He rubs his forehead as he tries to decipher the messy, scribbly symbols, and after multiple failed attempts he decides he needs a break and excuses himself to the restroom.

He leaves the classroom hastily and begins his wander through the halls. They’re unsurprisingly empty; most students are toiling in the cramped classrooms, sweat trickling down their necks, others are taking a rest on the grass, allowing the golden sunrays to glow upon their skin. Kyungsoo sighs, how he wishes he were one of them.

He reaches the toilets in an instant, and finds it completely deserted. He walks over to the mirror, surface reflecting his scarlet face. He cringes inwardly at his appearance. Quickly taking a step away from the sinks and closer to the toilets, he presses his cool hands against his flushed cheeks in an attempt to cool himself down.

Just when he’s about to empty his bladder, an array of fishy noises reaches his ears, and he narrows his eyes. The Ravenclaw finishes his business as fast as possible, zipping the zipper up rather clumsily. Pressing his ear against the door, he searches for more sounds, but is left empty-handed. He opens the door, but instantly regrets doing so when a horrible smell wafts through his nostrils.

Kyungsoo involuntarily gags, hand lifting to protect his nose. He didn’t have difficulties at all discovering the source of the smell; a small, brown ball laid in all its putrid glory on the dirty bathroom tiles. Kyungsoo gags again, and wanting to escape immediately he runs towards the door.

Locked.

Worry washes over him like a wave, though it was quick to disappear again. He simply fishes his magic wand out of his pocket. Mumbling, “Alohomora”, he aims his wand at the lock, and before long the doorknob twitches. Kyungsoo grins and reaches out for the knob, stuffing his wand back into its respective place, only to notice that, crap, it still won’t budge.

Heaving a sigh of frustration, he struts towards the window where he proceeds to call for his broomstick, which comes flying off at him in less than a minute.

The Ravenclaw opens the frame hurriedly, unsure whether he’s able to spend another second mucking about the restroom. His nose has suffered damage, that’s for certain.

Kyungsoo flings himself onto his awaiting broomstick and without bothering to close the window he sets off. Shortly, he reaches the entrance and the moment his feet come in contact with the stone ground, he jumps off the stick and rushes back inside the building, lugging his broomstick along.

“I’m sorry I was gone too long!” He blurts out after jerking the door to the classroom open. His breathing is ragged, and he’s gulping and panting for oxygen.

Professor Kim not so more as glances at him before nodding his head, indicating he’s allowed to take a seat. As the Ravenclaw does so, whispers fill the previously tranquil room, and a couple of students raise their hands to cover the lower part of their faces. A few giggle, others eye him with disgust. (“He must’ve unleashed the brown bear!”) Kyungsoo can feel his face heating up even more, more than a tad embarrassed.

One snort—too overdone, may he add—draws his attention, though. He averts his eyes from his feet to look up at a snickering Gryffindor at the back of the class. Meeting his gaze, the student raises a brow as well as a hand, and waves. A faint, but familiar dusty brown colour is smeared out across his hand. Kyungsoo’s lips part slightly and he sits down with a flushed face; not from embarrassment but fury.

He should’ve known it was Kim Jongin who toyed with Dungbombs.

*

Despite being sorted into Gryffindor, everything about Kim Jongin screamed Slytherin.

Encountering the boy for the first time, Kyungsoo was awestruck.

Perfection. The epitome of perfection.

Dark coffee coloured locks were held in place with a minimal amount of gel, complementing his golden tanned skin. It resembled that of smooth caramel; not one blemish visible. His deep, dark eyes were framed by thick lashes, fluttering every time he blinked. His eyes had roamed over the crowd, and somehow paused when they landed on Kyungsoo.  The latter had blushed feverishly, but too captivated to turn away he let his gaze stay put, examining the details of the stranger’s face and lingering on his plump, pink lips. The other had noticed his stare, and a little lopsided smirk played on his lips. Kyungsoo had almost melted on the spot.

On the surface Jongin was a real Gryffindor. Brave, determined, courageous. Other Gryffindors admired him, looked up to him—hell, he even had a small horde of fangirls and boys! Often too ashamed to admit it, Kyungsoo denied he was a part of them, though secretly cherishing a picture of Jongin close to his heart.

They were only a couple of months into the year when Jongin’s true self began to reveal.

To say Kyungsoo was disappointed would be an understatement.

He was the victim of the former’s continuous pranks. Day after day he had to suffer from the boisterous laughter of students aimed at him, a smug face in the mass always staring intensely at him.

There had only been one time he’d cried, yet the big, fat tears streaming down his face weren’t the result of one of Jongin’s escapades, but ones of crushed hopes. He was left broken-hearted, but all the more curious as to why the Gryffindor had singled him out when he could’ve chosen out of hundreds of others.

*

The teacher clasps his hands together, dimmed twinkle sparkling in his eyes, “Class,” He begins, “Today we’re going out to collect some ingredients for our upcoming project.”

A few groans escape the pupils’ throats, earning a glare from Professor Kim.

“Now, now, it’s not all that bad,” He shushes, scrutinising the class sternly. “Leave all your belongings here—yes, Sehun, your Chocolate Frog Collection stays here as well. Now, chop-chop! We do not have all day time!”

Professor Kim makes frantic movements with his hands as he shoos the reluctant students out of the cramped room, rolling his eyes when he notices a particular Gryffindor caressing his card collection before hopping away, sending off one last (overly redundant) longing glance.

They are guided to the border between Hogwarts terrain and the much frightened forest. A small group of girls clutch onto each other for dear life, fear written on their faces. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes at them; he’ll never understand females and their complicated minds.

“Okay, class!” Professor Kim exclaims, “I want you to look for formatogoria! It’s a rare plant, therefore I’ll grant twenty points to whomever finds it.”

This seems to brighten up the mood as well as create some fuss, but the professor merely grins and takes a step to the side, allowing the students to begin their search. He catches Kyungsoo’s eye in the process and shoots him an encouraging smile. The latter hurriedly crouches down next to Sehun and busies his hands with the soil, his eyes with the quest for the plant.

Digging his hands through the black earth, he soils himself with the dark mixture of organic remains and clay. He doesn’t mind dirtying himself, though, not at all. Back when he was still an ordinary teenager living between ordinary muggles he used to spit his way through the garden all day. Appreciating every flower and plant of its existence, getting rid of vicious weed—it was exhaustive, but all worth it in the end.

Unconsciously, a smile tugs on the corners of his lips. A drop of sweat trails its way down his temple. He lifts an earth-covered hand to wipe it away, unknowingly leaving a dark smudge behind.

“What’s so funny?” Jongdae, the Slytherin’s prefect, notorious for his intelligence, asks. Kyungsoo shakes his head, grinning softly to himself, “Nothing.” The former raises a brow, but drops the subject as soon as it came up and goes back to work.

Just then he notices a striking blue colour in the corners of his eyes. His breath hitches in his throat, did he find it? He slowly moves towards the plant, and as he inches closer he states that, yes, it is formatogoria. He tries to fight back a smile that’s about to take over his face, but poorly fails to do so. Extending his hand, he reaches for the plant, its cobalt petals beaming at him.

“Professor! I found it!” A familiar obnoxious (but oh so attractive) voice screams, swatting the Ravenclaw’s hands away. The smaller falls on his , squeaking. When he looks up through his bangs, which he blows out of his face simultaneously, he’s met with Kim Jongin’s broad smirk. He wants to wipe it off so badly, but a part of him tells him to stay put. And so he does, eyeing the scene of Professor Kim patting the younger’s back with exasperation, though never moving an inch. He finds himself ogling at Jongin’s broad smile and without realising all of his indignation vanishes in a split second. The latter’s eyes crinkle slightly, and Kyungsoo just wants to pinch his cheeks and coo over how cute—

Wait, what?

“Twenty points to Gryffindor!”

No, scratch everything. Kyungsoo could strangle Jongin at the moment.

*

Defeated, the others slump into the restroom to wash themselves up. Loud cheers from the Gryffindors echo behind them through the large hallways, and, honestly, Kyungsoo doesn’t understand their fuss—twenty points is close to nothing. Perhaps he’s simply jealous, he was the first one discovering the plant after all. Realising he’s gritting his teeth, he rakes a hand through his hair and tells himself to “stop being so bloody dramatic”.

Ice cold water hits his hands all at once, sending a shiver down his spine. Noticing it was almost close to impossible to get rid of the black smudges, he grabs the soap, only to drop a string of small beads right onto his uniform. Kyungsoo watches with wide eyes as the sticky substance trickles down his uniform. Cursing under his breath he reaches for his wand, but somehow it’s not in his back pocket, where it’s supposed to be. Slipping another curse over his lips, he lets his hand roam all over his body, to no avail.

“Looking for something?”

A husky voice behind Kyungsoo startles him. He cranes his neck to look at the owner, eyes narrowing when he comprehends it’s Jongin, though readily dilating as he spots a rather familiar wand dangling right next to Jongin’s face.

“What in the world are you doing with my wand? No, wait, I don’t even care. Just—Give me my wand back,” Kyungsoo snarls, settling his hands on his hips.

Jongin smirks, “What’s the magic word?”

“What the hell, Jongin. We’re wizards, there’s more than one preposterous ‘magic word’. Cut the crap.”

“Hmm, feisty, huh?” Jongin’s smirk widens. His, yes his, possessed by him, Do Kyungsoo, wand now floats above the latter’s head. The other extends an arm, and the wand lands in his hand, slender fingers clutching the wood tightly. Something snaps inside of Kyungsoo, and before he knows it, he cries, “Give it back to me!”. Without much thinking, he practically flings himself onto Jongin, flushing their bodies as he raises one hand to reach for his wand, other resting on