D) All of the above.

The person who finishes an exam first is either really confident or has completely given up. Similarly, the answer “All of the above” is chosen by two kinds of people. (1) You are absolutely sure that all of the previous choices answer the question. (2) You’ve never seen these words as long as you’ve lived and hope for gravity’s sake that they are all correct. Sometimes, you even waver between the two. In that case, you feel twice as miserable—absolutely uncertain and questionably sure.

I.O.I’s Doyeon x Yoojung, featuring Somi & Sohye and OCs

Doyeon heaves her trunk onto the luggage rack above, right next to Yoojung’s. On the other side of the compartment, Somi lobs Sohye’s belongings over her head with minimal finesse.

“Why do you have so much stuff? We literally wear three outfits the entire year, we’re sharing books, and you don’t even own a pet,” Somi huffs, tossing a third bag over the rack guard.

“You never know what will happen. You have to be prepared for everything,” Sohye reasons, her eyebrows rising automatically whenever she gets worked up.

“We’re witches! We can magic nearly anything we need! And if we can’t, it probably means we deserve the detention anyway!” Somi collapses onto the seat.

Yoojung tries to hide her airy giggles behind the owl in her lap. The two are forever bicker buddies and never fail to put on a show for anyone in the vicinity.

“We’ve barely left the station and you’re at each other’s throats. Sit down, you’re taking up too much space!” Doyeon shoves Sohye into her seat before she can insult Somi.

Doyeon picks up the owl cage and places it snugly between the trunks. With a final sigh, she plops next to her best friend, mentally exhausted. For dramatic effect, she slides sideways until her head rests on Yoojung’s shoulder, her long limbs splayed everywhere. Dumb and Dumber don’t care as they continue arguing. Doyeon doesn’t bother interrupting, they’ll get tired eventually.

Doyeon opens her eyes when she feels the owl’s talons rest lightly on her thigh. The golden name tag clasped to his foot glints in the sunlight. Jinyoung. After their first few months at Hogwarts, Doyeon and Yoojung went home for the Christmas holidays and had a joint family celebration. Doyeon felt it was only right to give Jinyoung a present too. So she prepared an engraved name tag and a shiny silver ball, for sentimental reasons she’s sure the bird understood. Owls were quite smart, magically associated ones even more so.

Allowing him to nibble her finger, she welcomes the wave of nostalgia. Doyeon thinks of how much has changed over the past three years. Yoojung’s parents invested so much time into helping her family adjust to magic. And when it was time to send off the children, Yoojung took responsibility for her without question. She assimilated quickly enough. It was strangely exhilarating to feel one with the crowd, that crowd being completely different from the rest of the country. They were average outliers.

Every student in her year worried about their own magical mishaps, laughed at each other’s accidents, and offered support for each other’s concerns. Doyeon was happy where she was, with what she was doing. And when she wasn’t, Yoojung would pop out of nowhere, silent as ever.

Yoojung. The epitome of the phrase “actions speak louder than words.”

Doyeon has never heard her talk. Sometimes she would yelp in surprise or laugh out loud. But Yoojung has never spoken above a whisper, and even that was rare. Professors were thoroughly amazed. She was determined not to speak in class. She was so determined, that she was the only first-year to cast nonverbal spells in Charms. Much to her chagrin, students of all years flocked to her for advice. Doyeon lifted her up by the waist and carried her out of the room whenever this happened. But she still wanted to hear the shorter girl’s voice. By the end of their second year, Doyeon thought she would put it on her bucket list.

Then there’s the other half that Yoojung lived up to. From their first week, she made sure Doyeon was understanding everything. They would spend hours in the library adjusting Doyeon’s wand waving and proofreading essays measured by length and not by pages. When they felt suffocated, they would sneak out to the Quidditch pitch and fly around leisurely until dusk. Words couldn’t carry in the wind. At times like those, they treasured the silence.

There were two things Yoojung always did that Doyeon loved.

One made Doyeon feel better. Doyeon was still as tall and lanky as ever. She could see clearly over the crowds in the corridors and sometimes blocked the students sitting behind her. (She has since learned to choose a seat at the back of the room.) Whenever Doyeon was in the mood to whine, she’d ask Yoojung if she really was such a burdensome Treebeard. (She also takes credit for forcing her friend through a movie marathon about the turmoil of Middle Earth.) In that case, Yoojung would pull her into an empty classroom, stand on a chair, kiss the top of her head, and whisper a resolute “No” as she cradled it.

The second thing made Yoojung feel better. Doyeon had plenty of practice reading Yoojung. It wasn’t like they made a secret language. They were just incredibly in sync. People always thought since Yoojung never spoke, she didn’t want to listen to anyone either. For the most part, they left her alone for fear of bothering her. And while everyone enjoys some peace and quiet, it can be quite deafening in excess. Doyeon held the title of Yoojung’s Personal Chatterbox. So when they weren’t being crowded but there was a crowd, Yoojung led Doyeon to the top of the Astronomy Tower. They would dangle their feet off the balcony and Yoojung would tap Doyeon’s knee, as if pressing a play button. Doyeon would talk about anything and everything under the sun, Yoojung hanging on her every word.

Doyeon breaks out of her reverie and looks out the window. The sky outside is a smear of red and orange. Then the prefects come knocking on compartment doors. Everyone stands up and stretches, cracking their stiff joints. Doyeon pulls Yoojung’s robes out of the trunk above before searching for her own. Somi does the same and drapes Sohye’s robes over her like a tent.

“Fourth year, bring it on bitc—” Sohye slaps the back of Somi’s head with her loose sleeve.

~|~|~|~

Doyeon’s first three years at Hogwarts were fantastic. She passed her classes with flying colors. She hasn’t been in trouble once, though Filch insisted she kicked Mrs. Norris. She fled the scene when Sohye barreled down the corridor with Somi’s hat on fire, the taller girl shooting sparks at her rear end. Doyeon’s friends were actually quite useful once in a blue moon. On top of that, her parents were always eager to hear how she was doing. She knows they have heard the stories the thirty previous times, but they still look at her like she’s the most precious thing on earth.

Now Doyeon wonders if she was a fool to believe it would last. As soon as term starts, she thinks the students have bathed in puberty serum 2.0 over the summer. Their whispers are louder, their stares more judgmental. People notice things, insignificant things. But the more they take notice, the more significance they impose on it. Doyeon doesn’t like how this feels. She doesn’t like how familiar this feels.

It was incredible feeling the same as everyone who was different. At Hogwarts, she was perfectly average. But Muggle or magical, Doyeon figures people will want to deviate eventually. They just happen to want it at the same moment. The average is shifting, increasing, surging forward. This time, she wants to keep up with the crowd. She will try to be different, just like everyone else.

The best way to be individualistic is to be true to yourself. Doyeon doesn’t quite know what that means, but acting on instinct seems to be a good place to start. Instinct—an automatic response, no processing involved, innate. Also known as a gut feeling and phrases of the like. It supposedly expresses your true nature. It seems like a lot of waiting around for the right moment, in her opinion. So it also doesn’t seem too different from what she did before joining the wizarding world.

~|~|~|~

“Let’s be productive this year!”

“I always do my homework, unlike someone.”

“For the last time, it wasn’t my fault. Somi charmed my essay to fly straight into the lake. Anyway, I meant let’s get more involved!”

“We live at school, how much more involved can we get?”

Ignoring the morning sass, Sohye drags Doyeon to the message board in the common room. When they approach a flyer on the left, the plain white background bleeds into a pastel radiation before their eyes. The borders bloom into lightly scented flowers.

Herbaceous Flirtatious - Masters of charm with flourishing flora. Doyeon recognizes one of the boys who signed their name on the registration sheet. The last time he asked a girl out for Valentine’s Day, his bouquet had tangled its retractable, thorny vines in her hair. Jieqiong wasn’t too happy about that.

“Hey, there’s a book club,” Doyeon points out.

“Pages with Peeves. Want revenge on that blasted poltergeist? See how many books you can throw at Peeves without getting caught by Filch. Don’t have any? Not to worry, we’ve got piles of copies of Hogwarts: A History. Prizes will be raffled off at each meeting, held bi-weekly,” Sohye reads. The registration list is full, some names are even written in the margins at odd angles. They share a look and scoot over in sync to the next set of club advertisements.

Brew a Bang - Prank your pals, dazzle your date, or make money off Muggles, whatever works. The president is admittedly a talented potioneer-in-the-making. He also has a penchant for pyrotechnics. Rumor is he’s negotiating a specialty branch for Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes once he leaves Hogwarts. If it doesn’t work out, he’s supposedly going to sell “liquid fireworks in a bottle” to Muggles.

“Duel… Dancing…?” Sohye squints to read the crossed out words.

“Just no,” says Doyeon, quoting the scribbles next to the club name. “B with school spirit yet?” She sighs. 

Sohye clicks her tongue. “Remind me never to speak to you before noon,” she mutters.

A soft chuckle escapes Doyeon’s throat and Sohye cracks a smile, knowing her friend is only teasing. She moves over to read the other posts about Creature Care and a petition to put a mural on the castle wall.

“How does Magical Munchies sound? None of us can cook and Somi won’t teach me after I almost impaled—“

A girl nearby looks around, then at Sohye and points at herself, confused.

“Oh! Sorry, I thought you were someone else,” Sohye says.

The girl nods and walks around her to sit by the fireplace. Backtracking, Sohye finds Doyeon staring at a notice in the middle of the message board.

“I didn’t take you to be the athletic type,” she comments. “Why the sudden interest?”

“Doesn’t everyone like Quidditch?” Doyeon wonders out loud, more to herself than to Sohye.

“Watching it is alright. Never felt like playing,” Sohye shrugs.

Doyeon recalls spending the day with Yoojung two summers ago. Though half-blood, the shorter girl spent more of her time playing Exploding Snap or flying around. Muggle games seemed mundane in comparison. Doyeon figured they should break their streak of couch potato-ing and decided to teach her how to play basketball. Doyeon was often chosen by the boys at her old school during P.E., since she was tall and they were competitive. This didn’t win her much favor from the girls though.

They flew to an isolated park shielded from the town by a hill. It was safe, but it was just too far for any kid to bother coming by. They set their brooms behind a bush and Doyeon took her position in the middle of the court. After Doyeon blocked another of Yoojung’s shots, and made a slam dunk herself, Yoojung decided it was no longer fun. It took another five minutes of convincing and a bet for ice cream to get one last game started. Doyeon expected Yoojung to intercept her shot by jumping. Instead, Yoojung dove for her feet. Doyeon toppled over with her limbs sprawled out on the ground. She heard the basketball bounce and come to a halt at the edge of the grass. Standing up and dusting herself off, she turned to retrieve the ball, but it was gone.

An unfamiliar, unladylike guffaw filled the air. Looking up, she saw Yoojung on her broom, spinning the basketball on her finger. With a teasing grin, Yoojung tipped the ball into the basket with a swish. A “Foul!” was on the tip of Doyeon’s tongue. But seeing how happy Yoojung was, she laughed along and bowed deeply in defeat. She went to get her broom and they flew back towards town for a cold treat.

Sohye’s voice shakes Doyeon out of her memories. “Which position are you thinking of?”

Doyeon hums in thought before taking a spare quill and signing the Hufflepuff team tryout list.

Doyeon Kim, fourth-year - Chaser

The next week, Doyeon dresses in sweats and walks down to the pitch. Her friends sit in the stands to cheer her on. Donning her Gryffindor team robes for convenience, Somi screeches her support loud enough for both Yoojung and herself. Sohye tries to keep the girl from embarrassing them too much. Yoojung ignores them and just pumps her fist in the air when Doyeon looks over.

“Morning, everyone! I’m Kelsivalla Lockthorn, Captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team. But just Kelsi is fine. We’ll be holding preliminary tryouts for each position separately, judged by former team members. This will test your basic skills. The final round will put you in a full game setting to see how well you work together, and with other players and distractions on the field. Great turnout this year, I hope everyone puts in their best effort. Let’s begin!”

Doyeon joins the students crowding around Kelsi and Tobias, the remaining Chasers from last year’s line-up. The students are sent out in small groups for flying and evasion evaluations. Most of them pass. Tobias compliments Doyeon on her speed and control, despite using a battered school broom. Next they practice in pairs tossing copies of the Quaffle to each other, then they move on to scoring goals. Tobias circles behind the hoops while Kelsi watches from behind the students. They eliminate anyone who makes less than seven out of ten shots. Doyeon succeeds with eight goals, but Kelsi notes her last one had hit the rim of the hoop and barely tipped through. On a windy day, she would’ve missed completely. She congratulates Doyeon anyway.

While the other groups finish up their tryouts, Doyeon sneaks up to the stands.

“You look pretty comfortable in the air, Kim,” Somi nudges her side. “Can’t wait to wipe the grass with your face when Hufflepuff loses.”

They burst out in laughter and Doyeon feels thankful. Somi’s cockiness translates to “I know you’re gonna make the cut.” Yoojung looks up at her with bright, curious eyes.

“They complimented me, I hope I’m set for the position,” she replies. “I’ve got more than an ice cream cone riding on it this time.” Yoojung silently chuckles into Doyeon’s side, the vibrations calming her nerves.

“You better get back down there. Looks like they’re preparing for the final evaluations,” Sohye says. They all give Doyeon an encouraging high five before she shuffles down to the pitch.

The crowd has dwindled down significantly. Combined with the team members from last year, there are six Chasers, four Beaters, and two Keepers and Seekers each. Kelsi excludes herself to observe the players in action. She divides everyone into two teams to face off in a mock match. Tobias mounts his broom next to Doyeon, wishing her luck. On Kelsi’s signal, everyone kicks off into the air and the balls are released.

Tobias lunges for the Quaffle, but an opposing Chaser reaches it first. Him and his teammates zoom towards the other end of the pitch, Doyeon’s team following close behind. The other Chaser on her team, Alekvius, devises a strategy to get the ball in their possession. Tobias rounds off the opposing team’s path on the right while Alek dives straight down from above. The center Chaser drops the Quaffle out of shock and veers left to avoid Alek. Doyeon soars underneath and catches the Quaffle. Heading straight up for the goals, she fakes a throw to the left hoop and aims for the right while the Keeper is distracted. Kelsi awards the goal to Team A and makes some notes on her clipboard. Tobias and Alek pat Doyeon on the back as they fly into position.

On the whistle, the opposing Keeper throws the Quaffle to her team. A Chaser catches it and takes off down the pitch. His teammate motions that she’s open, so he takes the chance to pass it. Alek shoots up above it with alarming speed, scaring her off. Instead of catching it, he spikes it back down towards Tobias. Doyeon is already halfway back towards the goal hoops when he reaches her. He smoothly drops the ball into her open palm and crosses over her broom with his arm held out to appear like he still has the ball. The other Chasers fall for it and follow him to the stands on the left. Doyeon keeps the ball in front of her and swoops around to the right, hoping to get close enough to the rear of the hoops, but still have the room to shoot it through the front. The Keeper notices her however and shouts out a warning. She backtracks down the pitch, but by coincidence the two competing Seekers dive in front of her chasing after the Snitch. She pulls back on her broom hard, flipping over backwards. The Quaffle tips out of her grasp and an opposing Chaser catches it. By the time she rights herself, Kelsi’s whistle sounds from her team’s hoops. She makes her way over to the other players with a huff.

Four rounds later, Team B is in the lead. Doyeon feels sweat trickling down her neck under the high sun. Kelsi declares that tryouts will end at noon if the Snitch isn’t caught by then. She flies around to make sure it isn’t trapped in the stands while the teams take a break to discuss tactics. Team A agrees that Tobias is straightforward, he hides nothing and competes head-on. Also having been on the team, everyone trying out knows how he plays. His skills aren’t to be trifled with however. Alek seems to specialize in dives, so he takes the offensive approach. Doyeon is fast, agile, and quiet. She’s great at lying low and sneaking up to gain possession. She’s lethal, but doesn’t show it. They clue in the Beaters, who formulate a plan to protect a chosen “target Chaser” without giving away the Quaffle’s position or their team’s patterns. The Seeker chimes in with his search route to keep out of everyone’s way until he sees the Snitch. When everyone is satisfied, Kelsi reinitiates the game.

The round starts off in the middle of the pitch and ends much like the beginning of the final tryouts. Team A scores another goal and the Quaffle is put back into play. Everyone flocks to the goalposts at the other end when Alek regains possession. He, Tobias, and Doyeon keep the ball moving between them in an effort to tire out the other team as they move down the pitch. When they get close to the goalposts, Tobias hands it off to Doyeon and fends off a nearby Chaser. Alek surges forward, faking a throw to the right hoop and the Keeper follows. Doyeon ascends and aims for the center hoop when a Team B Beater swerves into her path by accident. She avoids colliding with him by flying straight up and risks dropping the Quaffle. She reaches for it but grabs the Beater’s bat instead. Opponent or not, everyone has a job to do in the game. She winds up her arm to throw it back to him.

“Behind you!” He shouts.

Doyeon turns around and swings her arm around in defense. Her hand shakes from the force of the bat making contact. The Bludger flies into the far Chaser’s direction. She corkscrews through the air and loses her grip. The Quaffle falls into Alek’s path. He circles around and hastily shoots it into the right goalpost, scoring their team a point.

“Are you alright?” The Beater asks, flying up to her.

“Y-yeah. Thanks. Here,” she says shakily.

She hands the bat back. He’s hesitant to leave, but after a few deep breaths, she assures him she’s fine. He relays his relief that she isn’t injured and goes to meet his team. The new round starts, but Doyeon hasn’t moved from her spot.

Kelsi hovers near her. “Kim, you sure you can still play?”

Doyeon nods her head. She tightens her grip on the handle, but Kelsi’s voice stops her.

“That was one hell of a swing. You’re great as a Chaser, but wow! You should be a Beater. That’s a great arm you’ve got,” she marvels.

For the first time since morning, Doyeon doesn’t see a captain’s judgement in her eyes. She doesn’t hear constructive criticism in her voice. There’s just plain amazement. Something stirs inside her stomach, but it’s not exactly pleasant.

“Doyeon!”

She doesn’t have time to dwell on it when Tobias streaks up the pitch. He tosses the Quaffle to her and tries to lose the Team B Chaser on his tail. Without hesitation, she turns on the spot and creates a torrent of wind around herself, not to move faster but to propel the ball further. The Keeper lunges sideways and misses, the Quaffle passing through the center hoop easily. Just after the Keeper releases the Quaffle, a Seeker shouts from ten feet above the pitch that he’s caught the Snitch. The Beaters take off to retrieve the Bludgers and everyone gathers around Kelsi at the center of the pitch.

“Excellent job, everyone! This would have made a spectacular practice during the season. Unfortunately, not everyone made the cut. But I can see you gave it your all out there, and I couldn’t have asked for a better turnout this year. I’ll post the new team in the common room next week. Please check it and mark down the practice schedule. Let’s clean up and head off to lunch. There should still be some food for the next half-hour.”

Kelsi leads everyone in an applause and walks over to the old musty chest to store the balls inside. The other students walk around the pitch to pick up discarded brooms and water bottles.

Yoojung, Sohye, and Somi are waiting at the base of the stands. Doyeon begins walking towards them, but someone grabs her arm.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?”

Doyeon follows Kelsi off to the side to straighten up the brooms leaning against the wall.

“I know you tried out for Chaser today. You were great during all stages of the tryouts. Your team had a pretty even distribution of goals too. That shows great teamwork and that you recognize each other’s strengths.”

Doyeon feels the tension in the air. “But…?”

“But,” Kelsi sighs, “I stand by what I said. I really think you should be a Beater instead. Now, ‘what’s one accidental hit compared to a whole morning’s worth of scoring goals?’ you ask. I don’t mean to sound pompous or anything, but I’m Captain for a reason. I see potential. With one hit, I can see you have more strength and control in your arm than even Kovic, and he’s been on the team for five years.”

Doyeon doesn’t respond.

“Let me be clear. The whole team from last year understands that a great player can come from anywhere. We’re willing to give up our place for someone who can do better than us, that includes me. If I find someone who can lead the team better than I, the Captain position is theirs. If they can be a better Chaser, they can have both positions and I won’t have any regrets. I can take out Kovic and put you in as Beater for this year’s line-up. You’ll make the Quidditch team. On the other hand, we don’t really need you as Chaser.”

“Oh my Hippogriff’s feathers, she’s talking to the Captain,” Sohye squeaks.

Somi gasps. “You think she made it? What if it’s all hush-hush and Doyeon’s kicking out a veteran player?” She speculates.

Standing between the two and unable to contain her excitement, Yoojung forcefully shakes their arms by the wrists when she sees the Captain speaking animatedly. They can’t gauge Doyeon’s reaction since her back is turned. The Captain walks off the pitch. Doyeon turns around and they meet her halfway. Yoojung immediately latches on to Doyeon’s arm and furrows her eyebrows impatiently.

“Pretty good,” Doyeon says with an exhausted smile. “I’ll find out if I made it next week. Was it boring watching me?” Yoojung shakes her head.

“That was awesome!” Somi and Sohye exclaim in unison.

Sohye beats Somi to it, smugly demanding treacle fudge for speaking at the same time. Somi grunts her consent and turns to Doyeon.

“So, I’ll be seeing you on the pitch this season.”

“But I don’t know if—”

“That wasn’t a question,” Somi says firmly, her eyes blazing with confidence. Doyeon squeezes out a laugh, too tired to argue her uncertainty.

“What did the Captain say? She didn’t talk to anyone else privately,” Sohye says, edging closer as if gossiping.

“I…” Doyeon begins. Is it really her place to refuse the Captain’s offer?

“Be honest with me, I won’t force you to do anything. However, my priority is the team. I’m gathering the best seven people to represent Hufflepuff this year, and I need to know if you’ll be one of them.” Kelsi’s voice is authoritative, but not condescending.

Doyeon goes with her gut. “I want to be a Chaser. That’s what I signed up for, that’s what I want to do as part of the team.” She feels relieved, but far weaker after hearing those words leave .

Kelsi nods, respecting her decision, and congratulates her on tryouts.

Her friends look at her expectantly.

“She said I flew well and I have a great arm,” Doyeon answers.

Somi doesn’t bother holding back an obnoxious whoop and Sohye pinches Doyeon’s biceps teasingly.

“Doyeon! You coming to lunch?” Tobias and Alek are waiting by the entrance to the stadium.

Doyeon, Sohye, and Yoojung wish Somi luck during her tryouts. They promise to stop by to show their support. Somi leaves to pick up her broom and starts on some warm-up laps. Doyeon introduces her friends to her Quidditch acquaintances and they all head to the castle to eat.

“We need to drag Yoojung to the library some time. That lesson was impossible,” Doyeon complains, stuffing a round button into her bag for practice later.

“At least yours worked. Mine shot away from me,” Sohye whines.

“Maybe we should use a bit more finesse in class.” Doyeon rubs the two red, circular imprints on her forehead. “Ugh, what’s our homework again? My memory is failing.”

“An eleven-inch essay on the Summoning Charm, contrasting the unnecessary precision in wand movement required for its execution and the degree of specificity of the target in mind,” Sohye recites as they descend the stairs to the basement.

Doyeon taps her wand on the barrel lid, exposing a door. They crawl through the entrance and into the common room. Sohye nods her head towards a small group of students huddled around the message board. Doyeon squeezes her way to the front and reads the Quidditch Team notice.

Kelsivalla Lockthorn, seventh-year - Captain, Chaser

Tobias Ruffario, sixth-year - Chaser

Alekvius Surge, fifth-year - Chaser

Doyeon Kim, fourth-year - Reserve Chaser

Only the Beaters don’t have a reserve member. Doyeon knows Kelsi did it on purpose, but it’s nothing malicious. She also knows life doesn’t go exactly as you plan it. It’s still disappointing though. Being honest with herself, she’s not a huge Quidditch fan. The desire to play was never very strong, though tryouts were a fun deviation from routine. But being on the team gives you a title. People recognize you. They praise you when you win, they comfort you when you lose, they support you year-round and they don’t even know you, not really.

Doyeon isn’t looking for popularity. She couldn't care less about people fawning over the ground she walks, about girls being envious, about guys staring at her with starstruck eyes. But something inherently follows attention. That is something Doyeon desperately wants. She can’t put her finger on it, she just goes with her gut.

Her instinct told her to sign up for tryouts. Her instinct told her to grab that bat mid-air and swing at the Bludger before it crushed her nose. Her instinct told her to decline Kelsi’s offer and stick to being a Chaser, a mediocre one compared to the other finalists. At least, that’s what she thought.

Really, how important was it to define herself as some teenage magical athlete? The voice inside her head is already so faint. When she chooses to listen to it, someone stamps it out. Is she willing to stick to what the voice said or ignore it in favor of what she wants? She doesn’t even know what that is. Doyeon reverts to a very familiar thought—nothing seems worth it. Do nothing, you stay on the sidelines. Try, you get pushed back there.

Frustrated, she rubs the spot where the buttons embedded themselves. It just makes her head hurt more. She wriggles back out of the crowd and leads the way to the girls’ dormitories. Sohye congratulates her with a confused tone, not sure if it’s rude or not. Doyeon doesn’t mind, because she’s just as confused about whether to be happy or not.

~|~|~|~

Doyeon started out with base-level knowledge like most of her year. As they progressed, Yoojung tended to excel in Herbology and Charms, subjects that were straightforward. Doyeon’s specialities were in Potions and Transfiguration, classes that took a bit of teasing apart to understand. She liked being particularly adept at something. She felt useful. But now, she wonders if it’s more trouble than it’s worth.

Doyeon and Yoojung have Potions on Friday afternoons. Naturally, they pair up at a table. This lesson focuses on the Wit-Sharpening Potion. After a short introduction, the class moves around to set up their workstations and collect materials from the store cupboards. The two girls begin their prep work in silent concentration.

Halfway through the period, Doyeon meticulously stirs her potion in a counter-clockwise motion. Every third one, she drags the ladle across the diameter of the cauldron. She then prods at the fire underneath until it turns blue. A balled up piece of parchment lands among her ingredients. She looks around and sees Yoojung waving her over frantically. Leaving her potion to simmer, Doyeon shuffles over to the other side of the table. Before she can ask what’s wrong, Professor Slughorn sidles up to them.

“Hmm, your potion should be a bright red by now, Miss Choi,” he says, scooping up a ladleful and letting it pour back into the cauldron. On contact, the liquid bubbles violently. “Oh my, extremely volatile!” He gestures for the two to step back until the vapor clears. 

He opens his mouth to give some advice, but shouting from the other side of the room distracts him. Sohye’s cauldron has frozen over and Somi’s solution is to magically thaw it.

“Now, now! There’s no need to panic. Miss Jeon, please don’t—”

Somi aims poorly when her wand slips from her hand and she ends up igniting the leftover ingredients littering their workspace. Professor Slughorn excuses himself before rushing over to help.

Yoojung looks up at Doyeon with a helpless expression.

“Come on,” she laughs. “Let’s see what we can do.”

She cracks her knuckles and walks over to the ingredients lined up neatly on the table. Yoojung follows, paying close attention.

“First, let’s lower the heat.”

Doyeon prods at the fire and it turns from blue to red. The brown contents of the cauldron begin fading to a light purple.

“The armadillo bile was probably burning at the bottom. Hopefully the liquid stays a liquid now.”

Yoojung cautiously lifts up the ladle, the solution no longer hissing and steaming when it breaks the surface. She stirs it around to dissolve all of the bile settled at the bottom.

“Did you add the scarab beetles yet?” Yoojung nods.

“Your potion looks really thin and watery. Are you sure you ground them enough? It has to be a fine powder to dissolve properly.”

Yoojung’s eyes widen and travel to the cutting board.

“You chopped them,” Doyeon concludes and Yoojung nods again.

Doyeon thinks for a moment before reaching over to her spare materials for a round opaque bottle.

“Let’s add some Flobberworm mucus to thicken it. Your potion won’t be as strong, but it’ll do what it’s supposed to.”

She tips the contents into the cauldron while Yoojung stirs the solution twice, turning it orange.

“Wait a couple minutes and see if it turns red. If it doesn’t, try grinding up another beetle and adding a pinch,” Doyeon says, glancing to the side to check if Yoojung understood.

The shorter girl hugs her by the waist and looks up thankfully. Doyeon chuckles and ruffles Yoojung’s hair. As she walks back to check on her solution, she notices a Gryffindor boy staring at her from two tables away. She raises her eyebrow questioningly. He turns back to his textbook, unconcerned that he had been caught.

When Professor Slughorn calls for the last five minutes, Doyeon and Yoojung bottle up a sample of their potions. The liquid in Doyeon’s cauldron is thick and smooth, and has an almost reflective sheen to it. Yoojung’s is a bit duller, but it retains the same shade of glowing sunset orange. They label the phials and place them on the teacher’s desk to be graded. As they walk back to clean up their workstations, someone taps Doyeon on the shoulder.

“Hey, the name’s Strider. Nick Strider.”

Doyeon hears the theme song of a certain national spy playing from the depths of her memories.

“Doyeon,” she says, shaking his giant hand hesitantly.

“I couldn’t help but overhear you fixing her potion,” the boy says, like he’s reading from a script. He points at Yoojung, who tries to act oblivious.

“Uh, yeah,” Doyeon says awkwardly. He doesn’t respond. “What about it?” She prompts.

“You’ve got skill,” he states and doesn’t elaborate.

“Thanks…”

Doyeon’s eyes flicker to the flask in his hand, a goopy tar-like substance bubbling inside. She wants to tell him it’s probably not the best idea to stopper it.

“Did you need something?” She asks slowly, trying to be polite.

“Uh, well, the O.W.L.s are coming up and I could use some help in Potions.”

He scratches his head, waving his flask in the air unnecessarily. The dark liquid sloshes around and a large bubble forms inside. Doyeon suppresses the urge to reply “obviously.”

“O.W.L.s are at the end of term… of Fifth Year…” She trails off. He doesn’t seem to have understood and just stares back at her. “It’s October. And we’re fourth-years,” she clarifies. Realization dawns across his face and Doyeon feels a bit relieved at this.

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to be extra prepared,” he says, trying to save face. “And getting help from a Ravenclaw can only be a good thing! I’ll even pay you.” He yanks out five Galleons from his pocket and some random Sickles clatter on the floor.

Doyeon pauses at his words. “You know this is a double period with Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, right?”

“Oh,” he says dumbly. “But you’re pretty smart in this class. Shouldn’t you be in Ravenclaw?”

“I— That— They aren’t the only ones—” Doyeon struggles to get any words out.

People put way too much stock in stereotypes. She sighs heavily, trying to collect her thoughts. Before she can speak, Yoojung steps over and points at Doyeon’s neck. The boy finally sees the yellow striped tie.

His expectant grin drops immediately. “Huh…” He drawls.

“Never mind then,” he shrugs casually.

He turns around and puts his still-bubbling tar solution on Professor Slughorn’s desk.

Confused at his sudden aloofness, Doyeon begins clearing away her materials. She knocks over a few packets of dried herbs and they slide under the table in front. Yoojung moves to help, but Doyeon waves her off since there’s a spill on her side of the table that needs to be cleaned. Doyeon skirts around to the other side and crawls onto the floor. She reaches for the far packet when Nick’s shoes stop a few feet in front of her.

“Hey, want to check out Zonko’s this weekend? I heard they have a new product as a Halloween special, Charmed Whisper Cards. It’d be so funny to prank some Slytherin first-years, them being in the dungeons and all,” says Nick.

“Zonko’s? I thought you wouldn’t have any more allowance. Weren’t you going to pay that girl to help you not get T’s on everything?” His friend laughs.

“Shut up,” Nick replies, half embarrassed. “Besides, if—”

Doyeon nearly bangs her head on the underside of the table when she hears a cauldron clang against stone, something shattering on the floor, and Somi apologizing profusely.

“—not worth it,” she catches the end of the conversation.

A strange taste fills Doyeon’s mouth. Her lips curve downward at the realization. Bitterness, followed by something acidic that makes her want to gag. Titles, labels, categories. They aren’t everything. But what does that matter when she’s the only one who thinks so? She’s bitter that someone else gets to define her. And disgusted that she wants to demand to tutor that narrow-minded boy, that she feels the need to validate herself to someone like him.

Yoojung lightly kicks her rear, telling her to get moving. She clears her mind, collects the packets of dried herbs, and crawls out from under the table.

~|~|~|~

Transfiguration is crowded. Professor McGonagall was adamant about teaching every level of the course on top of her duties as Headmistress. So students from all four houses are crammed into one class. Today they are turning hedgehogs into pincushions. Soon the room fills with murmurings of incantations.

Doyeon has a short staring contest with the small hedgehog sitting on her desk. It scrunches up its nose in curiosity. Doyeon does the same in concentration. When she raises her wand, the hedgehog rolls backward and grasps its feet, its spines protruding menacingly.

The figure in the book about the wand movement is something like a lowercase alpha symbol. She positions her wand in the air and makes a diagonal slash down to the left. Her arm loops around up and to the right, finishing with a downward jab in the direction of the animal. The body morphs into a soft cushion with just two pins sticking out. The hedgehog is only partially transfigured, the edges of the pincushion still lined with spines and two feet dangling in the air. She repeats the wand movement and says the reverse incantation to start from square one.

Doyeon sighs and looks around the room. Everyone else is struggling to transfigure their animals. They fail to change something they are given into something they want. But they try. They try to get rid of the hedgehog-ness and make the professor see only the portion of pincushion, the praiseworthy part. They boast to their friends about how different it looks. Their friends snicker at how much of it looks the same as before. Doyeon thinks it’s a bit cruel the way they force a subject’s constitution to change. If one only sees the pincushion, does the hedgehog cease to exist? Is there some remnant of the hedgehog deep within the pincushion? Is it only possible to see the hedgehog again when it’s convenient for those on the outside, those beside itself, those with power? 

She clears and refocuses. Since when did she have philosophical musings about her classwork?

Doyeon observes the other students. The girl in front of her is frantically muttering the incantation while stiffly waving her wand in the air. She curses when nothing happens. Looking up, she catches Professor McGonagall’s eyes and the teacher walks over to assist. This time, the spell seems to have knocked the hedgehog unconscious, still looking like itself.

“Focus is key, as you well know. You cannot just wish for your subject to go from living to inanimate. This kind of magic requires specificity. You must consider the subject in its entirety. Especially for living things, what more humans. While greatly simplified, one does not lose their minds nor emotions while transfigured. Your skill will determine how well your preserve that inner state. Fail to do so, and there may be dire consequences,” says the professor.

The girl stares at her lap, ashamed of herself. The professor says she needs to practice more before leaving to help other students. The girl squirms in her seat, visibly uncomfortable at hearing those foreign words.

Doyeon shifts her gaze to the direction of agitated squeaking. Nick from Potions sits diagonally to the right of the girl. Doyeon sees him poking the underside of his hedgehog, irritation evident on its tiny face. It’s a temperamental one. It launches forward and chips off a piece of his wand tip with its teeth. Nick jabs at his hedgehog and clicks his tongue before turning around in his seat.

“Heather, you’re in Ravenclaw, right? You think maybe—”

“Shut it. For the last time, I’m not wasting a second on you. Can’t you see my hedgehog is still a hedgehog? Are you trying to rub salt in my wounds? Obviously I can’t help you if I can’t even get through this myself, you idiot. How could you be so insensitive? Took one too many Bludgers to the head? Knocked out your reasoning? Or were you always like that?” She snarls.

Doyeon’s eyes widen at the explosive reply. Did the girl even breath? Heather decidedly ignores his presence from then on and attempts to transfigure her hedgehog again. Nick screws up his face trying to decipher the flurry of words that spewed out of . Giving up, he faces forward and begins prodding at his poor hedgehog again.

Realizing she eavesdropped, Doyeon turns her head to the left. Down at the other end of her row, she sees Sohye biting her lip in frustration. With every attempt, she changes which syllables of the incantation she emphasizes. Doyeon also wants to tell her she’s only doing half of the wand movement, but she can’t shout over the noise without distracting everyone else. Looking past her, she sees Somi struggling to aim her spell properly. Her wand arm wavers in the air while her free hand tries to capture the hedgehog running around her desk.

Immediately to her left, Doyeon looks at Yoojung making consistent, strong wand motions. Like hers, Yoojung’s hedgehog only transfigures halfway. The girl doesn’t give up. She changes it back to its initial form and attempts the spell again. This is one of the rare times when Doyeon sees her lips moving subtly. Yoojung whispers the incantation since she can’t focus enough to do it nonverbally.

As she watches, Doyeon notices a slight disturbance in the air. It happens just as Yoojung moves her arm straight down to point at the hedgehog. It almost looks like the haze of excessive heat rising from pavement during the summer. It flows out of the wand tip and floats towards the hedgehog’s belly—towards the center of the object where one has the best aim.

It’s too concentrated, she thinks. Entirety. Consider the subject in its entirety.

Despite Transfiguration being a more exact and scientific branch of magic, Doyeon finds a little editing here and there makes her spell casting much more efficient and accurate. She faces her hedgehog, still curled into a ball, spines upright in defense. She slashes the air purposefully and recites the incantation. Instead of cutting off her movement at the end, she adds a small rounding off to the left. She carefully observes the transparent haze. Most of it is directed at the center of the hedgehog’s body, but the tail of it follows her wand, set on a trajectory that curls around the animal. The underbelly morphs into a soft cushion, the spines directly positioned on the backside turning into pins. Then the feet and hands of the hedgehog transform into the corners of the pincushion. There’s no hedgehog-ness to be seen, she thinks dully.

“Excellent work as always, Miss Kim,” says Professor McGonagall over Yoojung’s desk. Doyeon remembers that she should be proud of this. She is not a hedgehog. “Five points to Hufflepuff.”

The professor looks down at Yoojung’s partial transfiguration attempt. She fails to turn it back into a full animal under the teacher’s hawklike gaze.

“Miss Choi, I have noticed your ability to perform the past few transfigurations has been inconsistent. I acknowledge your effort, but the coursework will only increase in complexity and difficulty. I will assign a fourteen-inch essay to those who fail to complete today’s lesson,” she warns, but there is concern in her voice.

Yoojung nods in understanding.

“Well then, let’s see your progress.”

Yoojung takes a deep breath and positions her wand arm upright. Mid-incantation, a shriek echoes from the other side of the room. Sohye springs up into the aisle and looks down at her chair.

“Ugh, seriously?! This isn’t the time for pranks!” She growls.

Somi reaches over and scoops up the hedgehog, clasping it tightly with both hands.

“I swear I didn’t do it on purpose! My hedgehog keeps trying to escape!” She yells, feeling offended.

“Then barricade it on your desk!” Sohye barks back.

“Miss Jeon and Miss Kim!” Professor McGonagall says sternly.

Everyone turns to the left to watch, while some students “ooh” obnoxiously. Somi and Sohye are quick to defend themselves until the professor shushes and scolds them in front of the class.

In all of the commotion, Doyeon mutters under her breath and strains to minimize her arm movement, eyes fixed on Yoojung’s hedgehog. Just as she finishes off the last air , Professor McGonagall turns around to address Yoojung. She catches the last few spines lengthening into pins.

She clears calmly, but is visibly agitated. “Well done, Miss Choi. I am pleased to see your effort has come to fruition. Take five points for Gryffindor. Keep up the good work.”

Turning sharply on her heels, she says, “And you two!” Somi and Sohye stop their hushed bickering and look up with a hint of fear in their eyes. “Detention with me. Friday evening, eight o’clock.”

“Yes, Professor,” they say through gritted teeth.

When Professor McGonagall walks to the front of the class, they resume making distorted faces at each other. Doyeon leans over to make a snide remark about their friends, but Yoojung isn’t paying attention to her. Following her gaze, Doyeon sees the girl sitting in front of her staring between the two of them. Then she turns to glare at Doyeon.

“I’m sorry?” Doyeon tries, not in the mood to fight with a stranger.

Heather just huffs and crosses her arms.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but could you tell me what I—”

She cuts Doyeon off, speaking rapidly with a spiteful tone.

“Doyeon Kim, the Transfiguration prodigy. Book-smart, performance-pruned, and good at everything in between. Not a single word of criticism from professors. Oh, no. They praise the ‘dear Muggleborn with potential.’ You probably weren’t even aware of all the genius innovations wizards and witches brainstormed in their youth when you set foot within these walls. Who knew a nobody like you would rise in the ranks of wizarding academics? You hurt my pride quite a bit, you know. I used to be at the top of this class, and then you come along—“

“Hey, I’m just trying to—” Doyeon interjects.

“—and steal my spotlight. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be a seventh-generation Ravenclaw and not even make it to O.W.L.s with top marks to show for it? What more, if I can’t even recover my initial standing by the time N.E.W.T.s are administered? I’d be the laughing stock of my family! My father and his father, and his father, and his father spent their lives researching the art of Transfiguration and I plan to follow the same path. They expect things from me. I didn’t work my arse off—”

“Look, I’m sorry you feel that way, but—” Doyeon tries again.

“—to be pushed aside by the likes of you. What kind of a model student are you anyway? Your friends over there are blundering idiots who like to be a thorn in everyone’s side, all the time. The horror of being associated with people like them, I can’t imagine it. Yet you seem to be doing just fine. While I’m over here tearing through books day and night just to keep up with you, you spend your days playing babysitter for them and bodyguard for a mute.” Heather glares at Yoojung and clicks her tongue.

“Hey!” Doyeon lurches forward in her seat. “Watch it! That’s none of your business—”

“But it turns out Little Miss Perfect has some dirty tricks up her sleeve, too,” the girl snaps, ignoring Doyeon. “I saw what you did and don’t you dare deny it. Like everyone else, your bestie doesn’t have the skill to transfigure a hedgehog. But of course you don’t share some helpful tips with the rest of us common folk. No, you have to be a little cheat and do it for her! How do you not mind her earning house points for something you did? What happened to valuing ‘hard work’ and ‘justice,’ or whatever the bloody old hat says about Hufflepuffs? If you’re going to be so dishonorable to get your way and help your buddy, you should just be a damn Slytherin. I’d at least feel better about myself if it was obvious and predictable that you’d act in such a manner. Tch, honestly. People these days…” Heather rolls her eyes dramatically.

Doyeon is burning with rage. Her teeth are clenched so hard, she feels a headache spreading from her temple. Her right hand is balled into a fist. The nails of her left hand dig deep into the skin of her forearm to restrain herself from lashing out. Violence inside a classroom, especially in the presence of a teacher, isn’t taken very lightly.

Heather just scoffs at Doyeon’s silence and packs up her books to leave the classroom. Doyeon abruptly stands up, the legs of her chair scraping against the floor. She moves to latch onto the girl’s shoulder and yank her back to yell at her face, but someone holds her still.

Yoojung looks up at her with a blank expression and shakes her head once. Doyeon is still boiling inside. She wants to protest. She wants to let that girl know, very clearly, that she can’t just walk away after insulting Doyeon and her friends so easily.

Yoojung instead squeezes her hand and leads her towards Somi and Sohye’s desks. The two have reconciled seeing as they’ll be suffering together come Friday night. The two talk animatedly about the upcoming Hogsmeade trip, promising to treat the group to a round of Butterbeers. After serving a detention with McGonagall, they’ll need something to lift their spirits. They figured a warm beverage would cheer them up from the biting cold outside too.

Still thoroughly livid, Doyeon turns to argue her burning desire to give that girl a piece of her mind. But her anger is doused when she sees Yoojung’s eyes glistening at the corners. The shorter girl closes her eyes, trying to drain the tears away. Doyeon’s mind empties and she wraps her arms around Yoojung’s neck from behind.

“It’s not your fault,” she whispers. “What she said was nonsense.”

Doyeon feels the need to convince herself, to prove she’s not lying to Yoojung. I’m not…

Not what? Not what she thinks? A prodigy? A cheating prodigy? A cheating prodigy who should be in Slytherin? No, it could be seen as being dependable, or— Her thoughts are rapidly piling up, burying and consuming each other. She doesn’t know whether she should feel disgusted that she just tricked a teacher, or proud that it actually worked.

Yoojung peeks up at Doyeon with a knowing expression. She brings her hands up and covers Doyeon’s ears. Don’t listen. The already muffled voices of lingering students get cut off, but it’s louder than ever inside her head.

~|~|~|~

One warm afternoon in March, Doyeon rushes out of Defense Against the Dark Arts, crumpling her notes into a heap and shoving them in her bag. She screeches to a halt by a window on a turret staircase. The Herbology class has just let out as well. Students wipe their dirty hands on their robes as they exit the greenhouses, some looking thoroughly ruffled. Her class heads down the stairs to the dormitories for a break before dinner. She makes a hard right in the Entrance Hall and squeezes past the incoming crowd of students. Once outside the oak doors, she walks down the path and across the grounds. She approaches her Head of House harvesting Boom Berries in the gardens.

"Hello Professor Sprout," Doyeon greets. 

"Oh, hello dear," the professor says genially. "Yoojung is—" 

"Inside, as always," they say in unison, their laughs echoing. 

"I'll be there in a moment, just going to get the rest of these. Why don't you help her in the meantime?" She adjusts her patched hat to shade her face from the harsh sunlight. 

Doyeon nods and heads inside the nearest greenhouse. Yoojung looks up and beams at her best friend. Pushing a bottle into Doyeon's hands, she gestures towards the potted Mandrakes. Doyeon sprays the plants in a great sweeping motion. The stems shake a bit when the Mandrakes squeal, but they soon die down and grow still. Yoojung begins plucking the leaves without retaliation from the herbaceous babies. She continues down the rows with Doyeon spraying along the way. When they collect enough to fill a small sack, Professor Sprout walks into the greenhouse with two baskets. 

"Could one of you please bring these to Madam Pomfrey? She requested them for some students injured in a duel. Honestly, where do they learn such dangerous curses?” 

Yoojung moves forward without hesitation, holding her arms out.

"Thank you, dear," the professor smiles.

She heads to another section of the greenhouse with the small sack they filled, muttering about teenage recklessness with motherly concern. 

"Come back soon. If we finish early, we can have some free time before dinner,” Doyeon says.

Yoojung nods enthusiastically and leaves for the castle. Doyeon follows the professor to the back. They spread the Mandrake leaves evenly under the unfiltered ceiling windows. Professor Sprout takes a tin can of powder and sprinkles a bit everywhere. Doyeon takes some in her palm to help with the other two tables.

“This looks like the horn or spine powder I use in Potions,” Doyeon says, inspecting it.

“Oh, it’s something much more magical,” the professor whispers conspiratorially. Doyeon looks up expectantly.

“Fresh coffee grounds,” she giggles, patting Doyeon lightly on the shoulder. “Really though, the aromatics help keep the magical properties potent. Drying out the leaves preserves them, but their power diminishes greatly," the professor explains.

Doyeon laughs and makes a mental note to get some in Hogsmeade because it smells wonderful while overpowering the odor of dragon dung fertilizer. That, and a certain Choi has spontaneous cravings for good coffee.

Half an hour passes as Doyeon trims the yellow malnourished vines off some hanging potted plants. Professor Sprout walks back into the greenhouse to check on her progress.

“It’s almost dinner, you two. How about we call it a day?” The professor looks around confused. “Yoojung isn’t back yet?”

Doyeon shakes her head. Looking at her watch, she realizes how long the shorter girl had been gone. Professor Sprout mirrors her worried expression.

“Perhaps Madam Pomfrey held her back to help juice the berries. Go look for her, I’ll clean up here,” she suggests.

Doyeon thanks her, slinging her bag over her shoulder and picking up Yoojung’s on the way out. At the foot of the castle’s stone steps, Doyeon sees long shadows on the ground off to the right. One of them suddenly shrinks back, the other shadow towering over it. She sees a thin line emerging from the second shadow’s torso. A wand. Dropping the bags, she runs around the corner of the castle, wand drawn from her sleeve.

Her eyes immediately flicker to the figure crouching against the wall. Yoojung is shaking her head furiously, her hands held up in defense and her wand ten feet away on the grass. They catch each other’s eye before Doyeon turns away to look at the other person. A tall, handsome boy stares back at her with wide eyes, wand pointed at Yoojung.

“What’s going on here?” Doyeon demands.

She points her own wand at the boy’s throat without hesitation, sidestepping until she’s between him and Yoojung. She ignores the tugging on the back of her robes. She expects the boy to shout at her, to tell her off and swear at her for butting in where she isn’t wanted. But when he opens his mouth, she’s surprised to hear a soft whimper.

“P-please, don’t-t interfere.”

He looks poised and pompous, but his eyes are fearful. Doyeon can see his muscles straining to keep his wand arm from shaking.

“Why are you attacking an innocent student?” she asks calmly, but still alert. “She hasn’t done anything to you, and you don’t exactly look like you’re willing to hurt her.”

“Of course I don’t want to!” Surprised at the volume of his voice, he jerks his head around to check behind him. “I d-don’t want to be m-mean. I don’t w-want to play up s-superiority. B-but I don’t want t-to be an outcast-t.”

“And how is that any of her business?” Doyeon asks with an edge to her tone.

“Y-you don’t und-d-derstand-d,” he stutters. “If-f I don’t d-do this-s, they’ll g-get to m-me!”

“What are you going on about?”

Doyeon is slightly worried for the boy now. He sounds like he’ll pass out any second from anxiety. From afar though, his appearance exudes confidence. She wonders just what kind of trouble he’s in to put on such an act.

“Let’s just calm down. We can talk—” Gruff voices interrupt her and she sees the boy stiffen.

“I t-told you…” he whispers through clenched teeth.

Before Doyeon can question him, two burly Slytherin sixth-years stroll across the grass, each smacking the boy’s shoulders in fake camaraderie.

“What do we have here? Catch something for us, Xerxes? About time, minions have quotas to fill,” the one on the right sneers, his voice deep and condescending.

The one on the left smacks the back of his friend’s head. “They were his first. Come on kid, what’s takin’ ya so long to deal wit’ ‘em? Get on wit’ it,” he says with a nasally tone. The corner of his mouth pulls back to reveal a shining gold canine filed with precision.

Xerxes doesn’t move. His housemates grow impatient and frown at each other.

“What, too wimpy to jinx ‘em?”

“Need a demonstration?” One of them pulls out their wand and points it at him.

“I like to play with my prey.”

Xerxes doesn’t stutter. His voice is as stoic as his expression. Wasn’t this the kid pleading for her understanding just a minute ago? Doyeon stares at him appalled, but his eyes are focused on a point past her ear.

The other boys’ faces split into giant grins. “That’s a good boy, the obedient get rewarded,” they taunt. They step back, watching the three hungrily.

For a split second, Xerxes meets her gaze.  Doyeon looks back at the boy with disbelief.

She shakes her head slowly. Don’t—

I’m sorry.

“Stupefy!” He shouts clearly and a solid jet of red sparks flares from the tip of his wand.

They’re standing so close to each other, there’s no time to cast a defensive barrier. Doyeon’s legs start to give out when Yoojung just glimpses two other jets of red and blue light coming from behind Xerxes. The force of someone’s Knockback Jinx sends Doyeon flying off her feet. She slams into Yoojung, crushing her against the castle brick wall. Yoojung struggles under the weight of Doyeon’s limp body. When she’s almost free, a large figure looms over them.

“Tha’s what ya get, noble Gryffindor wannabe,” the sixth-year spits. Smirking up at Yoojung, he continues to address Doyeon. “If Pipsqueak here had half as much brainless bravery as ya, maybe you’d be sittin’ pretty at dinner ‘stead of lyin’ here. How did the ratty ol’ hat screw up wit’ ya two?” He laughs.

He pats Doyeon’s cheek mockingly. Legs still stuck under the taller girl, Yoojung leans forward and slaps his hand away. He angrily shoves her back into the wall twice as hard, an unnatural thud resonating from her head. He glares at her, flashing his golden canine, then stomps off and disappears around the corner.

“Hey Runt, good luck dragging her up to the hospital wing!” The other sixth-year cackles obnoxiously.

He clamps a large hand onto Xerxes’ shoulder and drags him away. When she pivots her head in their direction, she sees two people blur into one giant mass heading towards the front doors.

“What’s with your face? Don’t tell me you feel sorry for them,” she faintly hears someone snort in disgust.

Something lands on Doyeon’s unconscious body. Yoojung lifts her arm with difficulty to swat it away, but warm, soft feathers ghost over her skin. Squinting, she sees a small golden plate reflecting the fading sunlight. She slumps against the brick wall and her vision goes black.