A/N: Exam week coming up soon, slow updateeeesss, stresssssssss, where is this story goiinnnggggg
will post on LJ tomorrow because knackered ;;

Part V: Devious Hufflepuffs

--

Sehun is used to waking up feeling like utter , but this particular morning, he feels as if he’s been repeatedly kicked in unimaginable places, possibly strangled a couple of times, and… he’s not quite sure if he has all five fingers on each hand.

Did he wrestle with the giant squid last night, or something?

“Mornin’, sunshine,” a too-cheerful voice greets. Sehun blearily blinks his eyes open to see an annoyingly perky-looking Jongin beaming at him from his bedside.

“ you,” Sehun croaks.

Jongin just continues beaming.

5…

4…

3…

2…

“Bloody !” Sehun shoots up into a sitting position. (1, Jongin finishes counting with a satisfied nod. He’s still got it.) “WhereamIwhatthehappenedand… stopsmilingwhyareyousmilinglikethatMerlinyou’regivingmechills—”

“You’re lucky I’ve mastered the art of speaking Sehunese.” Jongin stretches luxuriously as Sehun tries not to show how much pain he’s in. Everything hurts. Jongin lists off three fingers. “Infirmary, Huang Zitao, and you.”

“… What are you on.”

“I’m answering your questions, dip. Get with the program.”

Sehun makes a face. “What? I don’t remem… ber…”

Oh.

Oh.

“Oh.”

Jongin pats his shoulder (Ow). “Yup.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, you’re getting it.”

“Tao…”

“Uh-huh.”

“Fight…”

“Keep going.”

“Bloody .”

“You got it. O for outstanding, Oh Sehun.” (Jongin is such a prick sometimes.)

(A prick that can conveniently speak fluent Sehunese, but a prick nonetheless.)

Sehun falls back on the mattress with a loud groan as it all comes rushing back.

--

Flashback

--

“It didn’t work.”

“And whose fault would that be?” Sehun asks in irritation. “I ing told you, it’s blue and then green, you useless piece of—”

Tao slams his quill down. “I dare you to continue. I dare you.”

Sehun weighs his options and opts for keeping his cool… For now.

“… Tao,” he says in the calmest way possible, like he’s talking to a 1^st year. “This isn’t even a negotiation. It says right. Here. The potion has to turn green before it turns blue.”

“Turquoise. Turquoise. Not blue. Not green. Turquoise.”

Sehun holds up a hand. “Who’s the potions expert here?”

Tao scoffs. “Not—”

“Who?”

“I don’t—”

“Who?!”

Both boys freeze as a hand slams down on each of their shoulders. “I believe that would be me,” Professor Snape drawls. “Is there a problem here?”

“No, professor,” they say immediately. Snape’s hands tighten painfully before he moves on, robes billowing out behind him. They watch as the greasy-haired man goes to pester poor Kim Junmyeon, the Hufflepuff prefect who never does anything wrong, but is apparently an incapable eyesore in the hateful eyes of Severus Snape.

Sehun turns back to their report, frowning as he tries to figure out where they could have went wrong. Sehun doesn’t recall ever making a mistake in Potions. It’s his best subject.

He’s interrupted when, suddenly, Tao leans in, a little too close for comfort.

And just as suddenly, Sehun feels a tense coil of anger erupt inside him, and his mouth starts moving on its own.

“Get out of my face.”

Tao jerks back. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“I did. I was just giving you a chance to take it back.”

“… Are you calling me a ?”

“Are you calling me fat?”

(In the row behind, Kim Jongdae and Kim Minseok snicker into their palms, unbeknownst to either of the angry Slytherins.)

Sehun whips out his wand with a nasty sneer. “Pandas are fat. Didn’t you know?”

When Tao’s stormy expression becomes a natural disaster, things start going downhill, fast.

--

End Flashback

--

“I can’t believe I… I called him fat, Jongin,” Sehun gasps at the ceiling. “I don’t know what came over me… It was like—”

“You weren’t in control of yourself?” Jongin asks knowingly. He’s languidly at a bright red er. (Sehun doesn’t want to know where that came from.)

“Yeah, how did you… know...” Sehun narrows his eyes and sits up again, holding a hand to his aching side. “Kim mothering Jongin. I swear on Salazaar Slytherin’s rotting corpse—bless his soul—if you had anything to do with this, I’ll—”

Jongin holds up his hands, a placating gesture, before plucking the candy out of his mouth with a loud, wet, smacking sound. “Mate, that corpse rotted away eons ago. You’re supposed to swear on something alive.”

Sehun isn’t amused and he communicates this with a loud sound at the back of his throat (Sehunese for “Get to the point before I Vanish your , -wipe”. Or something along those lines. It sounds similar to a dying hippogriff and, occasionally, Kris Wu, when he’s ‘singing’ in the shower.)

“Okay, okay, it wasn’t me. That kind of joke isn’t even my style.” Jongin grins, pointing his er at Sehun. The latter leans away in disgust. “But I do know who did it.”

Sehun sighs explosively. “It was Jongdae, wasn’t it?”

“Nope—wait. Yes. How did you.”

“And Minseok.” It’s not even a question.

“Oh my God, this isn’t even fun anymore,” Jongin whinges. “I was going to make you work for it!”

Sehun shrugs. He isn’t surprised, really. Kim Jongdae is well-known for his pranking, and it’s no secret that his best mate, Kim Minseok, would very much fancy seeing Oh Sehun fall off the Astronomy Tower. They’ve got a bit of a quarrel over a certain blonde Gryffindor.

He wiggles his fingers. Good, all 10 are still functioning and intact. He nearly cries in relief.

“Uh…” Jongin starts tentatively. Sehun looks up. “Aren’t you… I don’t know… angry? I mean… they messed with your potion…”

Shoulders? Both present. Knees? Still bending. Sehun is feeling better by the moment, and his smile makes Jongin shrink back in terror.

“Oh, no,” he hums, popping his neck side to side. “Oh Sehun doesn’t get angry.”

He grins as his hair shifts to a vibrant blood red.

“He gets even.”

--

They start an abrupt staring contest.

“…”

“…”

“Please don’t talk in 3^rd person ever again.”

“… Agreed.”

They quickly shake hands and pretend it never happened.

--

“What do you mean he came to see me?” Sehun gasps, clutching at his chest dramatically.

Yixing blinks dreamily confused eyes. “He came. In here, to the Infirmary. To look at you.”

Sehun tries, terribly hard, to be patient—he’s talking to Zhang Yixing, for Merlin’s sake. “When did he come?” he presses.

“Hm…”

“Yes?”

“Hmm…”

“… Yes?”

“Hmmm…”

“Yixing, please.” Sehun reaches out to shake the Hufflepuff out of his stupor.

“Huh? What?”

“Focus. Lu Han. When did he come?”

“… I don’t know.”

Sehun quietly lies down and wonders for the nth time why he’s mates with Zhang Yixing when he dies a little on the inside at every conversation they have. He doesn’t think he has much inside left to die at this point.

--

Madame Pomfrey convinces (read: uses a combination of verbal threats and a temporary Petrificus Totalus spell) Sehun to stay overnight at the Infirmary, much to his dismay. There’s no wonder that the Slytherin falls into a fitful sleep on the lumpy bed that night, and wakes up in a mood.

“Ugh. I hate everything.”

“Good morning to you, too.”

That voice.

Sehun sits up abruptly, unaware of his rainbow-coloured bed hair. “Nghaioejrewaff.” (Sehunese, for “Lu Han, you’re an angel and I love you.”)

“Oh, don’t sit up so quickly! You had to regrow a lot of bones!” Lu Han frets, reaching out to push Sehun back onto the pillows. “Does it still hurt? I brought you some breakfast, but I’m not sure if you've any appetite for hotcakes, are you okay? My poor baby,” he whimpers with watery eyes. Sehun can only open and close his mouth stupidly for a few moments.

Truthfully, he’s perfectly fine. He’s had his bones re-grown more times than his great-grandfather has been bitten by a Chizpurfle (Merlin knows how that man survived past his thirties), and he’s only a little sore on his back. But that’s mostly the fault of the horrid mattress.

But when Lu Han squeaks, “Oh my God, you must be in so much pain. Should I get Madame Pomfrey? I’ll go get her—” with his hands fumbling around in the air helplessly, Sehun finds himself grabbing the other’s wrists with lightning fast reflexes and words spilling out of his mouth before he can filter them.

“No, no, don’t get her. Just…” He fakes a wince as he sits up again, inwardly smirking in victory as Lu Han buys it completely, and even adds a cough for further dramatic effect. “Please stay with me.”

Lu Han’s wide, glassy eyes take in his dishevelled and, apparently incredibly injured state, and relents. “I’ll stay. I’ll stay, so don’t move around!”

Sehun settles back against the headboard, unable to hide his huge grin. “Thanks, hyung. I’ve been so bored. Could you tell me stories?”

As Lu Han eagerly launches into a tale about Park Chanyeol and his deceased pet Fire Crab, Sehun thanks his Slytherin genes for making him such a great actor. He takes this rare opportunity to sneakily lace his fingers with the babbling Gryffindor, and admire the way his eyes sparkle as he talks, as well as his perfect pink lips as they form rapid words.

Perfect.

Sehun wants this boy next to him; preferably forever.

“Hyung, you have a really nice voice. Can you tell me another one?”

--

It’s a few hours later when Lu Han gets up from his seat with a stretch and Sehun panics.

Don’t leave.

He acts on impulse.

“Ah,” he says in monotone, rolling himself off bed and sprawling onto the floor. It’s actually quite painful and Sehun is not completely lying when he announces, “I am in so much pain. Everywhere. Pain.”

He pauses, squeezing an eye open to gauge Lu Han’s reaction, and the blonde is standing at the doorway with his mouth agape.

“Ow, it hurts, I think I fractured my… my… appendix.”

Nice going, Oh Sehun. Appendix. Really?

It’s so absurd that he nearly chokes on his spit when Lu Han actually scrambles to his side to help him up. Merlin, his Gryffindor is either too gullible or entirely naïve.

“Oh my God, Sehun! Are you okay?”

No, his back screams.

Yes, his inner Slytherin sighs in contentment. As long as you keep on touching me.

--

TBC