Meet Cha Hakyeon, sass extraordinaire, and the prefect for the house of Hufflepuff. The role model student, well-loved by teachers and peers alike, was one for peace and order. He absolutely abhorred tardiness, and would not tolerate the breaking of school rules, trivial or large. Well, you may also know him for his witty and often mean replies, which he will never hesitate to use in any time or any situation. "Well, were you born on the road? Because you pretty much look like an accident."

Move over to the Gryffindor house, and in the ranks of the Year Sevens, there is the Quidditch Captain Kim Wonshik, or the name he prefers to be referred to as, Ravi. The complete contrast to Hakyeon, Ravi was the epitome of a bad student, living for the thrill of truancy and sport. He didn't seem to give a flying fadoodle about classes, much less the uniform standard, and on the rare occasion that he attended his required courses, he always turned up in crinkled robes and a loose tie. 

Coincidentally, Hakyeon and Ravi are deskmates, and they pretty much get on each other's nerves throughout the lessons they share, the longest being the two-hour period of Muggle Studies. "Move over, man," Ravi spits at the shorter male, who retorts, "the last time I checked, you weren't a sumo wrestler who needed a 50-mile radius all around you," More glares, more eye-rolling, and the professor steps into class, forcing them to look away from each other with a huff. "Kim Wonshik!" The professor calls out in a stern voice, and Ravi flinches at his real name being called. "Yes, sir," he stands, muttering under his breath. "Twenty points from Gryffindor! Unruly uniform, truancy from the last three sessions, and work owed from aeons ago!" The boy squints and his lips. See, this is why I hate coming to class. "Cha Hakyeon! I want you to supervise Kim Wonshik, and it shall be your task to help him pass his Level Seven N.E.W.T.  (Nasty Exhausting Wizarding Test)." Ravi glances over at his deskmate, who looks completely and utterly horrified, and almost laughs at the pale tinge that has crept across his cheeks. "Am I understood?" The professor bangs his palms heavily on the wooden table, and Hakyeon gulps, mustering a quick "Yes, Sir," before both of them are told to sit down. Hakyeon can't believe his bad luck, and if he had an option between tutoring Ravi and stabbing himself with a fork, he would have chosen the latter. "Listen here, Kim Wonshik," he says in a threatening voice, "We're going to do this, and in my way, or else," Ravi smirks, answering in a hushed tone, "Yeah, yeah, whatever." 

The lesson progresses, and the professor drones on about various assignments before finally getting the students to open their books. Today's topic is on Muggle faith, and Ravi finds it boring, really, so he shuts off the explaining voice and resorts to flipping through the textbook, written by Professor Charity Burbage. "Be careful in what you wish for, because it may just come true." He reads softly, and an eyebrow, because he doesn't believe in such mumbo-jumbo, and everything written in that chapter seems dubious. And then he feels a sharp elbow dig into his ribs. "Ow!" He hisses at Hakyeon, who is staring fiercely at him. "We're on page 63, you idiot, don't you ever listen in class?" The Hufflepuff prefect returns his exclamation with malice, and Ravi is annoyed. He flips his fringe away from his eyes, and gives Hakyeon a large smile. "Frick you," he says, nicely. 

The professor teaches them how to pray in a Muggle fashion, and the class is filled with pupils clasping their hands together, eyes closed, wishing in silence. Hakyeon peeks at Ravi, and realises that the male isn't doing it, merely looking around the classroom with a lazy glance, and he whispers harshly, "Prayers should come from the heart, Kim Wonshik," Ravi sighs, rolling his eyes, and brings his palms together, crossing his fingers in a tight lock. He begins to pray, fervently even, because he needs this wish to come true desperately. I really, really hope Hakyeon's scaredy-cat will encounter some shady things alone late at night and end up in the infirmary for three weeks from the trauma, from the bottom of my heart. Goddamnit, just get rid of him, anything to get him out of my hair.

They spend evenings over the next month quarreling and getting little progress in revising the textbooks, including seven sessions when Hakyeon had yelled so loudly professors had to peek into the library, four times when Hakyeon had walked out, and once when Hakyeon had thrown Ravi's Muggle Studies textbook off the balcony, which Ravi had to "Accio!" back up into his hands. "Do you get this?" Hakyeon asks, his patience wearing thin. "Okay, so the Industrial Revolution was headed by Bill Clinton and-" The Gryffindor wizard is abruptly cut off by Hakyeon, who slumps on the table with a resigned "I give up", not speaking for the longest time. "Woah, woah?" Ravi prods at the male, "Are you dead?" "Pretty much," comes the mumbled reply, and Ravi feels almost apologetic. "Aight, I get it. I'll revise all this tonight, okay? You can give me a test tomorrow. I'll try not to disappoint you." He tries a little smile at the exhausted Hufflepuff boy, who sits up, grinning, "This card always works with you, Wonshik. See you tomorrow!" Watching the male gather his books and dash out of the library, it takes a while for what he had just said to sink into Ravi. "Hey, hey, hey, wait, did that guy just cast an Imperius Curse on me?" 

Ravi hates disappointing anyone who assigns him a task (with the exception of attending class and wearing his uniform properly), but he takes his promise to Hakyeon seriously, and stays in his dorm for the entire evening, reading through the whole textbook and memorizing the dry facts. Sanghyuk, his roommate, could not be more surprised, and almost faints when he sees Ravi at the desk, screaming about Armageddon. It takes a few wrapped caramels to effectively shut the younger boy up, leaving him to study in peace. Ravi burns the midnight oil to get his work done, and takes the worksheet from Hakyeon the next day, full of confidence. Hakyeon times him as he works at the questions, and flips through "Tales of Beedle the Bard". Ravi looks up from his assignment, and stares at Hakyeon. The Hufflepuff boy is sitting next to the window, the sunlight streaming in through the stained glass, and falling on him. The light is refracted, casting a halo-like spectrum of rainbow colours over him, and he chews on his lip as he tries to concentrate on an engaging paragraph. Hair falling a little over his forehead, his eyes glinting with interest. His nose is sharp, and his mouth is moving silently, reading the words to himself. Mysteriously beautiful, Ravi thinks, what a distraction. He half-smiles, almost like a fool, before snapping out of it, shaking his head hard, and going back to his task at hand.

To Hakyeon's immense surprise, Ravi ends up scoring a high 75 on the paper he had given the boy. "Excellent job, Wonshik," he says, shocked, but he doesn't miss Ravi's glowing eyes and genuinely happy expression, thus he adds, "I've always believed that you could do it." Ravi grins, and looks down at his palms. Growing up without parents or a caregiver to encourage him whenever he met with obstacles along the line, it was hard for him as a child, and up to a point, he had completely stopped caring, stopped trying desperately to please teachers or authorities just for a nice sentence or two. He feels a warmth spreading in him at Hakyeon's sentence, because no one had ever affirmed him like this, like he was valuable and irreplaceable. It feels wonderful. After a long while, he says in his gruff voice, "Thank you, for supporting me," and then in a tiny ant's voice that Hakyeon barely manages to catch, "also your voice sounds really nice when you call me Wonshik," Hakyeon laughs, and bumps Wonshik's arm lightly. "Wonshik, Wonshik? Wonshik!" He calls, "You'll shine, perhaps even more than me, what a handful," And Wonshik thinks that he no longer hates Hakyeon. 

Exactly one month after the professor had told him to tutor Wonshik, Hakyeon begins to feel something weird around the boy from Gryffindor. Burning cheeks, a racing heart, irregular breathing and embarrassment plagues him when he talks to Wonshik, and he feels like he has ants in his pants. "Ugh," Hakyeon throws his pencil down, collapsing on his books. Wonshik raises an eyebrow, lets his hand fall on the male's back, and it comfortingly. "Do you want to get something to eat? Or drink? You look exhausted." Hakyeon sighs dramatically, not looking up. "You know what, I wasn't expecting a response anyway," Wonshik continues, grabbing onto the other male's thin wrist and tugging. A few moments later and they're walking down the hallway towards the Gryffindor dormitory. Thankfully, Sanghyuk is out, and Wonshik lets Hakyeon lie down on his bed while he digs around for crackers and sets the kettle for a hot drink. "Are you having a fever?" Wonshik slides his hand across the Hufflepuff boy's forehead, feeling the skin go hot under his cool fingertips. Hakyeon whines, low and soft, and Wonshik feels embarrassed all of a sudden. He's never had this problem with Hakyeon before, but seeing the other lying down with his shirt half ed, flushed and making small noises is affecting him in ways he should not be listing. I need to calm my libido, geez, he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, and leans down to arrange his bolster next to Hakyeon, but he shifts, no, both of them do, and he's hovering tantalizingly over the shorter male. Hakyeon's onyx eyes are darting around in embarrassment, not focusing, and he pauses in this position, watching the movement of the muscles in Hakyeon's jaw, fascinated by the scene before him. And then Hakyeon had said impatiently, "Are you going to kiss me or not," before hooking both arms around Wonshik's neck and guiding him down. Hakyeon's lips are soft, like the skin of a baby, and he moves his chapped, rough ones against the velvet smoothness timidly. His heart swells, fleeting starlike bursts of light illuminating everything. It's blissful, like he's never imagined before. Deprived of love, lacking in affection, he tasted it all on Hakyeon, and he angles his head, deepening the kiss. When they break apart, short of breath and grinning like fools, Wonshik thinks his life is complete.

The annual Quidditch match arrived, and Hakyeon was annoyed beyond reason. They had lost, again. Hufflepuff was no master in the game of Quidditch, but they had at least fared well in the previous years against Ravenclaw. The darned ballot had to place them against Slytherin this year, and everyone had prepared to lose even before the Quidditch Cup had started. He sighed and looked down at his feet, unable to stomach more of the horrible defeat as one of the defenders from his house and his year was almost knocked off the broom by a particularly vicious attack from Leo, Slytherin's Quidditch gem. The crowd erupted as the ball landed in Slytherin hands, and Hakyeon thinks neither Helga Hufflepuff nor Professor Pomona Sprout would have been particularly impressed. He could care less for the acclaimed opponents as they walked out of the field, concentrating instead on the glum faces of his house. The little shrimp of a Year 5, or Lee Jaehwan, was jumping up and down in his row, and Hakyeon was getting a migraine. Thankfully, some equally grouchy professor had told the younger boy off and some order had been restored. He was a step away from going down there and giving Ken a piece of his mind, thank you very much, for disrupting public serenity and disloyalty to one's own house.

Wonshik scoffs as Jung Leo strolls off the field to the sound of endless cheering and screaming. He didn't understand what the Slytherin male possessed that made him so desirable, for he knew a deeper, darker secret about Leo. One that caused him to hate the latter's guts. One that no one knew, because Jung Leo had so cleverly covered it up with various achievements in the student body. He glances over at the Hufflepuff seats, and sees Hakyeon, whose jaw is set in stank face mode. He forgets about the abhorred Slytherin boy, laughing instead at the horrid face his boyfriend is making no doubt at the winning team, who had won over Hufflepuff. He thinks this is why he had fallen for Hakyeon, and grins when the pouting male catches his eye. He already feels heaps better.

So this is how it's like to really, really experience love.

"Hey, you alright?" Hakyeon bumps his shoulder slightly on a rather pale looking Jaehwan; the younger male looked like he was going to empty the contents of his stomach onto the floor anytime soon. "No," Jaehwan whimpers, and although he was known for his pranks, Hakyeon was beginning to worry, the grey tinge had spread across his face and he was sweating. "I think I ate too many pieces of coconut ice," groans the smaller boy, "my stomach hurts." Hakyeon can't resist the chance to sass him, "Geez, you're such a model nutritionist," but he volunteers to help cover Jaehwan in his lantern oil duties for that night, for he had a hard mouth but a soft heart, and besides, Jaehwan was like a little brother he never had. Hakyeon doted on the younger male a lot, even though he may not have voiced it out. When it was time to set off with a lighted candle in a holder firmly gripped in his left hand and a small jar of oil in the other, Hakyeon remembers why he had been so reluctant to take up this duty for the past 7 years in Hogwarts, instead choosing to do the tedious administrative work.  

The dark corridors were decidedly scary, and although Hakyeon was quite the scaredy-cat, it wasn't the average horrifying. Even Dumbledore had once said that Hogwarts was ancient, filled with thousands of years of magic unpredictable even to the most esteemed wizards or witches. Shadows bounced eerily on the cream walls bathed in blackness whenever Hakyeon approached, the candlelight flickering weakly, and the male does not know what he will do if it decides to extinguish on him. He checks the oil level in the first lantern with trembling hands, and almost spills a little when he tries to refill the liquid. This is okay, Hakyeon, he tells himself, you are a grown man and you shouldn't even be scared of the dark, psh. He forges on, and almost screams when he thinks one of the portraits is moving, the fat old lady's eyes following him as he passes her. "I'm going to have a heart attack," he whispers to himself, pausing at the end of the deserted locker hallway to calm his frazzled nerves. Be careful in what you wish for, because it may just come true.Two months after that lesson in Muggle Studies about faith, Wonshik's wish comes true. Hakyeon lets out a shrill shriek when grayish mist begins to curl around him, and he feels a sudden numbness in his joints, before all his pain receptors are all simultaneously activated. He tries to shout for help, to struggle, but he is paralyzed. No sound comes out of his mouth. The agony increases twofold, and he is frozen, suspended, unable to react. His limbs contort unnaturally, flashes of hurt bolt through his veins and reach deep into his skin. He is terrified, this has to be some sort of powerful dark magic, and he desperately tries to recall something from his lessons in Defence Against the Dark Arts, but it's pointless, for he can't even reach for his wand. Hakyeon can see dark shapes forming from the sides of his eyes, hooded figures of immense height standing in a perfectly organized circle, their faces hidden from view, and his mind flies to Voldemort. A rebellion?He forces his mind away from the pain, and focuses on ways to get help from this infiltration. The cloaked figure hisses at him, and he knows he has to look away. He is clueless, body wracked with sudden jabs of agony, and the tall presence bellows what seems to be "Stay away from my son" over and over again. The sentence repeats itself too loud for comfort, pounding in his eardrums, and he imagines this is what the Cruciatus curse would feel like, because he cannot bear it, not much longer. He could embrace physical pain, but not at this degree, and his mouth is frozen in a perpetual silent scream. After what seems like an eternity, the mist begins to rise and the shady communion disperses, leaving behind the sound of terrible cackling as Hakyeon crashes to the ground, writhing from the aftermath, the jar of oil lying broken on the floor, the candle long extinguished. I must get back, he tells himself, and struggles to stand up, flopping like a fish on dry land. He has no strength in his legs.

Once he could muster the energy, he bolted back to the hall, ringing the large bell with as much force as he could, calling out the entire school from their sleep. The professors wake up groggily to the pale male who is mumbling about dark shapes and flashes of pain, a "second Voldemort", an apparent cloaked apparition bellowing what seemed to be a loud line of "Stay away from my son" repeatedly, with shaking legs and in a half demented state. The students are frenzied, paranoid of the rise of a second Dark Lord, but Jung Taekwoon knows better. All this was the doing of his father, and the target was supposed to be a certain Year 5 Hufflepuff by the name of Lee Jaehwan, but Hakyeon had bore the brunt of the punishment. Wonshik, usually a heavy sleeper, is abruptly thrown awake by Sanghyuk, and he rushes out of the Gryffindor dormitory at the mere mention of Hakyeon's name. He is alarmed when he hears passing students mention that Hakyeon is severely hurt and in trauma, and he stands in wide-eyed worry when he sees the older male, all, the colour drained from his face, with purplish-black marks mottling the skin all over his arms, legs and torso. Hakyeon can't calm down, not even when offered a cup of hot tea nor when pacified by the professors. He paces the large podium, murmuring to himself, and Wonshik bolts up when he notices the older boy dangerously and deliriously close to the edge. "Woah, woah, Hakyeon! Watch it!" He yells, grabbing Hakyeon's wrist and tugging, but to his utter surprise, the Hufflepuff boy growls lowly, "Let go of me," 

"Woah, Hakyeon, I'm sorry, no can do," he tries softly, and he was completely thrown off guard. He had never seen such a side to Hakyeon before, it was as if a feral and almost uncontrollable beast had occupied the shell of his body. Wonshik doesn't know how to react as he pulls Hakyeon in, watching the professors huddle together discussing on about what it could have possibly been, and what the attack meant. "I said, let me go!" Hakyeon threatens in a voice that does not even seem like his, layered with malice, and when Wonshik refuses, he had tried to throttle the younger male. Wonshik knew this wasn't Hakyeon, this wasn't the boy he had fallen in love with, this wasn't the sassy prefect of the Hufflepuff house. It had to be some sort of a curse that had been casted, and Hakyeon was terrifyingly possessed, being eaten from the inside out by a beast that was still unknown, lurking in the deep depths of his soul. The older male looks so frazzled, so disturbed, and Wonshik wraps his arms around Hakyeon, whispering "Shh, shh, it's me, Wonshik. I won't let them get to you, believe me," but the demons are trapped in Hakyeon's mind, and he won't stop struggling to get free in large, frantic motions. It takes the Headmaster's powerful "Immobulus!" to stop the inner turmoil in Hakyeon, and a swig of Calming Draught to send him to sleep with the soft touch of Wonshik's lips on his.

Wonshik carries Hakyeon to the infirmary, and lies him gently on one of the beds with the white sheets, waiting impatiently for Madam Poppy Pomfrey, the matron and nurse, to arrive. Normally, the fierce disciplinarian of a woman was one a rule-breaker like Wonshik would avoid at all costs, but he had to hear about Hakyeon's condition, and how to treat it. Anything, he thinks, he would give anything for the old Hakyeon to be returned to him. To have the days they had shared back. Madam Pomfrey came to Hakyeon's bedside a few moments later, looking immaculate even at this unearthly hour, her silvery hair still tied up in a neat bun. She glanced up and down at Wonshik's unruly robes and loose tie, made a distasteful face, but decided not to comment, and went on to look at the affected boy. "Hmmm," she frowns, and Wonshik leans in, holding his breath at the reveal of Hakyeon's diagnosis. "It seems like someone had prayed for this condition to be inflicted on him from at time frame of about two months ago, and this boy will be here for at least three weeks, after which, his life or death is directly dependent on whether the person who made the prayer is willing to go back to the his origins and confront unimaginable fears." Wonshik freezes, and remembers what he had said in the Muggle Studies class on faith four months ago.

I really, really hope Hakyeon's scaredy-cat will encounter some shady things alone late at night and end up in the infirmary for three weeks from the trauma, from the bottom of my heart. Goddamnit, just get rid of him, anything to get him out of my hair.

So that was what Professor Charity Burbage had meant when she had warned her students to be careful of what they prayed for in the textbook, words that Wonshik had carelessly skimmed across, but it had come true. 

Madam Poppy Pomfrey had guessed, and Wonshik knew, from the knowing look she had given him, one eyebrow cocked unsurprisingly. Before she left, she had instructed him to keep Hakyeon warm, providing him with a hot water towel with which he was supposed to wipe any sweat off the older boy's torso, and had whispered, "It's up to you, boy, and remember, those obstacles will seem insurmountable," She waved her wand lightly over Hakyeon and said a small "Episkey" which eradicated his wounds, and returned to her quarters, leaving the sleeping boy with Wonshik in the dim lights of the infirmary. 

Wonshik does research late into the night, going away for short periods of time to get books, before returning to Hakyeon's bedside and caring for the older male. He learns about the charms needed to battle with his own memories, memorises spells, and realises that he would have to use the large court house in Hogwarts. Past recounts and experiences with this form of time travel are no less enticing or encouraging: descriptions range from temporary insanity to visions of strange beasts, and most importantly, the sirens. The scenes and flashbacks will be invisible to others except for the wizard immersed in the process, and enchantment by the sirens is seen as a suicide attempt, which cannot be prevented unless the wizard himself snaps out of it. An object, similar to a horcrux, only much weaker, would have to be destroyed, in order to heal the afflicted. The wizard, from start to finish, will recall traumatizing events from his past, and look into his worst fears. He looks over at the serene figure on the bed, and crosses his fingers that Hakyeon can be saved. He yawns over the thick encyclopedias, sipping hot tea slowly, and flips the page.

Later in the day, Taekwoon finds a sleeping Wonshik curled up next to Hakyeon, and gently shakes him awake. Wonshik sits up with bleary eyes, murmuring a soft "Madam Pomfrey?", but his eyes ice over and his mouth sets into a thin line once he had ascertained the identity of the boy in front of him. "What do you want?" He scoffs unkindly, and Taekwoon bears it all, because he knows that he owes Wonshik way too much for the sins of his father. Taekwoon clears his throat, and looks straight at the other male, because he does not carry good news this time round, either. "The cloaked figure that Hakyeon had encountered was not Voldemort," he prods at Wonshik, who is frowning, with clenched fists at his sides, "It was my father." Wonshik narrows his eyes, trying his best to contain his quaking anger, inhaling and exhaling heavily, whispering in a deathly threatening tone, "Your family finds a hobby in toying with the things I love, don't they? From my parents, to Hakyeon, you despicable Slytherins just take as you wish," Taekwoon sighs, and attempts to pat the younger boy comfortingly, but Wonshik flinches at the touch, and shrugs the hand off with a glare. "The only way you can alleviate Hakyeon's symptoms is to destroy the pearl that you will find, I heard from Madam Pomfrey, on your quest into the past," This piece of advice angers Wonshik, and he growls, grabbing a fistful of Taekwoon's shirt, "Why should I trust you, you conniving ? You have reduced my life to ruins ever since I have been a crawling tot, how do I know you are not lying to me at this very instant?" Taekwoon looks away, unable to meet the blazing gaze of the Gryffindor boy. "Because I love Jaehwan like you love Hakyeon, and I know how it feels. I'm sorry," Wonshik releases his grip after a while, and spits out a harsh "Leave", because he feels like he is going to faint, both from the gravity of the situation and the overwhelming new information. All he knows, in his messy brain, is that he has to save Hakyeon, at all costs.

It had been two weeks since Hakyeon had slipped into unconsciousness, and Wonshik practises the necessary spells everyday, familiarizing himself with the Time Turner. He learns new charms, for both defence and attack, but Hakyeon doesn't wake up, not even when Wonshik breaks down at his bedside after hours of experimenting in time travel and talking to the sleeping boy. There are times he feels like giving up and collapsing, but he can't, when Hakyeon is frozen in a perpetual deep slumber, and Wonshik can't see his smile nor his sparkling eyes. He keeps going, getting help from the professors, who all reel in shock when they hear of what he plans to do. Finally, it is Dr Park, his Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, who determines that Wonshik is ready to face up to the challenge, and delivers him to the doorstep of hell. "Are you sure?" He asks the young boy, who is clearly nervous, in a deep, rumbling, worried voice. Wonshik is trembling, but he replies a "yes" in a steely tone. The door to the Hogwarts court house locks behind him as he uses the Time Turner and surrenders himself to the swirling mess of colours, flinging himself to another dimension.

The black around him begins to dissipate, and he sees something wholly familiar. The neat, trimmed garden, and the tiny cottage house that had filled the first steps of his life with wonder and fun. His old house, one that he had lived in a good twelve years ago, a time when his parents had still been alive, when he had truly been happy, without any worries. Wonshik steps into the house tentatively. The memories are fresh, almost as if they had occurred just a minute before. The colours are vivid, surreal, and he thinks this may not be an illusion at all. He desperately wishes to believe it wasn't, but he thinks of his mission at hand, the pale boy whose life he had almost single-handedly ruined, and forges on. He thinks he knows what he will have to face, the ghosts of his past had been haunting him for years on end, and just when he thought he was able to put all of it behind him, he had been brought up by the fates to confront it once again. The dusty floor scrapes against the bottom of his sneakers, and he feels like he is walking on needles, wary and on his toes. You can do this, Wonshik, he tells himself, remember Hakyeon, remember that you love him, all you need to do is destroy the pearl. He recalls the words of Madam Poppy Pomfrey the day Hakyeon was admitted into the infirmary, on how he would have to look into his past, and withstand his worst fears coming to life right before his eyes. He grips his wand tightly, shuffling in, and he drifts. The old scenes unfold before him like a movie, and it leaves him reeling with a sick feeling in his gut. He recognizes the living room, the carpet strewn with toys he had played with when he was a child. He passes it, walks through the kitchen, and instantaneously notices the hole in the Shield Charm. It had been painfully obvious, why had his parents not discovered the breach in security? He holds his breath, and he is starting to feel a pain in his chest. He wonders if he can survive the entire ordeal a second time, what's more, as a bystander, unable to do anything to help. His legs had a mind of their own, and before he could process, he realises that he is already in front of the nursery. His nursery, his old room as a little kid. The memories wash onto him like a giant wave, suffocating and unpleasant. He doesn't want to enter, he wants to return back to Hogwarts immediately, but he needs to. Hakyeon lives in the present, and these are the terrible remnants of his part that he must erase and learn to cope with. The scales of importance had long since tipped over in favour of the Hufflepuff male. With a giant, shuddering intake of air, Wonshik pushes the wooden door open.

It was seemingly tranquil, just as Wonshik had remembered from years ago. There is a magical filter lingering in the air, calm and soothing, and the room is bathed in light, with gentle floating particles dancing around, suspended in beautiful patterns. He walks in, and shuts the door behind him. This is it, his fate is sealed, he would either make it or break it. His destiny was tied to Hakyeon's by a thin string, and he had the scissors in his hand. A mist clouds his vision, but when he blinks, three figures appear. He is immobilized when he realises that the young boy in his mother's arms is in fact, himself, sleeping soundly, without a care in the world. His father is pacing around the room anxiously, whispering to his mother, "The Shield Charm has been activated. Our home should be unplottable by now, and Jung can't come after us. We are safe," However, it sounded more like he was trying to pacify himself instead, his voice was shaking and unstable, dubious and wracked with anxiety. "You did right, exposing his corruption," his mother spoke soothingly, trying to calm her husband down. Wonshik knew, in a matter of minutes, a Basilisk would appear by the orders of Taekwoon's father, taking both the lives of his parents in the matter of minutes, and turning him into an orphan for the rest of his life. Tension hung heavily in the air, and he watched as his mother sang a lullaby, softly, hauntingly, to the child in her arms. The last song. 

He was far too lost in the reminiscence that he did not hear the gentle hissing that came from the far right of the room, the sign of the arrival of an uninvited guest. "Of many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam the land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size, and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who is fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death." Wonshik recalls this excerpt from the book Most Macabre Monstrosities, but nothing prepares him for the creature that crashes through the walls, tearing the layers of plaster and cement as if it were a child ripping a piece of paper. It was a fifty feet long coil of horror, dark green in colour, hissing dangerously, its venom spouting in the form of white effervescence at the corner of its mouth, its fangs gleaming under the glow. He watches as the creature writhes around, its tail slamming into his crib, reducing it to irreparable pieces, and his father whips out his wand, pointing it at the creature, yelling a loud string of Antonin Dolohov's curse, hoping to cause severe damage to the basilisk, shielding his wife and child behind his back, but he had forgotten the most vital part of the beast. Its skin is armored like that of a dragon's, and deflects spells cast upon it. The creature barely flinches, instead leaning in menacingly, instantly killing off his father, who in a moment of folly, had looked into its yellow eyes. Wonshik looks on in terror as his father's eyes glaze over and he slumps onto the ground, no longer breathing. The basilisk turns its attention away from the dead man, and focuses on his mother, who is looking down and refusing to meet its eyes. She does not attempt to defend herself, instead shuffling to what seems like a small chute at the end of the room, moving slowly in case the creature should choose to attack. Once she had sensed that it was relaxing slightly, she ran to the compartment, hastily opening the catch. Placing the sleeping young boy in, she locked it quickly, turning to face the beast. It looked laidback, lazy even, opening its huge mouth for a yawn, displaying its range of sharp teeth and what seemed like a cauldronful of venom. Wonshik watches as his mother yells a "Avada Kedavra!", the green light bouncing off the serpent, who hissed, annoyed, almost as if someone had given it a slight pinch, and it slid closer to her. Closer, and closer yet, until they were barely a centimeter apart. His mother was fighting hard to not look up, no matter how petrified she could have been, to not gaze into the deadly eyes of the snake. And then the basilisk had bared its teeth, opening its mouth in preparation of swallowing the woman for a snack, when Wonshik snapped.

"Don't!" He screams, moving forward, his hand around his wand trembling as he ran forward in front of his mother, blocking her from the serpent. There has to be something wrong, he notices, when his mother begins to flicker like a faulty pixel, and the serpent's mouth is a swirl of colours instead of the defined silver fangs he had witnessed earlier on. He leans forward, slicing a cut into the bottom of the opponent's mouth, but it creates a jagged, blurry line. He turns to face his mother, who is smiling, but it is not her. Her grin is so wide it is almost painful, creepy and eerie, and when she opens to speak, the voice that comes out is not hers, layered in tiers, almost as if three people were talking at the same time. "Wonshik, my dear baby...." He staggers backwards in confusion. What was happening? The images are wavering, and he sees what was really behind the illusion. Dozens and dozens of sirens, their rotting mouths and decomposing bodies twisting into one large unclear image, flickering between the scene of his mother and the basilisk back to their unearthly communion. They were singing, tunes of sweet melody and disillusionment, and Wonshik was drawn to the sound, forgetting that once he went close to the monsters, he would be devoured and that would be the end of him. The songs made him remember of a better time, a time before he had lost his parents, moments he had spent with Hakyeon, happy instances of his life, and he took step after step, closer to the paradise-like images, closer to his death.

Back in the Hogwarts infirmary, Hakyeon was dreaming. He felt exhausted, and he wandered around a island he had absolutely no mental map of, stumbling over roots and feet crunching on dry leaves. The canopy covered the sky entirely, and no sunlight filtered through the leaves. He passed tree after tree, bush after bush, trembling at the moving shadows, the dark forms of the unknown slithering in the murky growth. After blundering for what seemed like a few hours, he reached a beach. It was out in the open, but he realised that it wasn't the trees that blocked the sunlight. There had been no light at all. The overcast sky hung ominously over the span of sand, the black waters crashing loudly against the greyish shore. Everything had a veil over it, heavy and oppressive. He tried to walk forward, but his feet were held down by invisible cannonballs, and they felt like lead. Then, from the corners of his eyes, he saw Acromantula, one of the most horrifying and grotesque beasts, crawling in gradually. He is thankful for the fact that he cannot advance, for it meant coming into contact with the vile creatures, which he had no wish in doing so. His attention flickered back to the stretch right before him, and he gasped upon spying the familiar back view of Wonshik, tall and thin. Hakyeon tried yelling his name, warning the boy about the approaching spiders, telling him to run away for his most feared opponent was a mere metre from him, but Wonshik didn't respond, standing still like a mannequin, facing the dark waters. Hakyeon began to lose hope, but at that juncture, Wonshik turned around. Expecting to see his defined jaw and deep eyes, Hakyeon shrieked in mortal terror at the mutant that had taken Wonshik's place. The figure did not have the whites in its eyes, and where Wonshik's mouth, where the lips Hakyeon has kissed so many times should have been, there was only a giant, bloody crevice, filled with sharp, glinting teeth, like that of a shark. It smiles. "Wonshik!" Hakyeon screams, jerking up in bed, waking up from a long slumber.

"Wonshik!" It's Hakyeon's voice, piercing through the layers of delusion, and he feels like he is swimming, drowning in the pool of reality and fantasy all mixed into one.   Hakyeon's face emerges in his brain, smiling, pouting, snickering, bold, beautiful, and sassy. A cord tugs him back. He snaps backward, opening his eyes. He had been millimeters away from the jaw of a single siren, and the others had jostled forward in anticipation. He could smell the decomposition on them, the bits of rotting flesh from their various other victims emitting a foul smell. He stumbled backwards, pushing himself away from the monstrosities, sliding on the floor. The sirens grow mad at the loss of their prey, and grey fog begins to rise. Their sweet songs turn into ear-piercing noises, high-pitched calls of anger, and Wonshik knows the worst is yet to come. 

"He what?" Hakyeon asks disbelievingly, looking accusingly at Madam Pomfrey, "and you let him go? How dangerous that must be! What if he sees some apocalypse and ends up blowing up the entire Hogwarts?" The boy is practically screeching, throwing on his robes frantically, searching around for his wand, and Madam Pomfrey makes a sound of disapproval, clicking her tongue. "You barely woke up, Hakyeon, you need rest. Besides, no one can help him in this," But Hakyeon is already out the door, racing down the steps to the court house, his heart ricocheting wildly against his ribcage. The dream had to be some sort of an omen. He had seen Acromantula, one of Wonshik's worst horrors, and he feared for the other male's safety. Pressing one ear against the door, he can hear a faint shuffling, almost akin to that of hairy giant spider feet scratching on the tiles, and he starts to panic. Wonshik is in there, and it was a battle only he could fight, while Hakyeon watched on. Hakyeon slumps down on the other side of the locked door, crosses his fingers, and hopes for the best.

First come the giant spiders, his most feared enemy, and he coils into a fetal position on the ground, too scared to move, too frightened to cast a spell. He can almost feel their hairy legs all over him, their huge eyes turning 360 degrees in peripheral vision, crawling all around him, ready to strangle him in a vice-like grip. He closes his eyes, and focuses on Hakyeon, imagining his voice singing soft songs, whispering in his ear, for he was the last string of hope tying Wonshik to his sanity. Time passes, and he can no longer hear the shuffling of the giant arachnids. He dares himself to peek, and to his immense relief, the beasts are gone, leaving him lying alone on the grainy floor. Wonshik pushes himself up with his palms, his wand so tightly held in his hand that a mark had been imprinted into the soft flesh. What was next? He already feels like he has lost himself in the depths of his mind. I can't, he tells himself, I need to do this. Temporary insanity, eternal trauma, the words fly across in his brain, and he forces himself to zoom in on the white pearl that has appeared in the centre of the room. Shaking his head wildly, he wishes to get rid of the dizziness, the heavy weight in his head. He is beginning to forget how Hakyeon looks like, but that did not prove to be a problem, for the next vision was of the other male. Smoke figurines appear in front of Wonshik, and as the dust begins to settle, he sees Hakyeon, good-looking as ever, in a black button down suit and silvery hair that is the colour of stardust. His pupils are no longer their warm brown, instead a sickly yellow, like those of a starved wolf. Hakyeon is smiling, but it isn't his usual, carefree expression. This one is forced, calculated, a smirk, and Wonshik sees movement in the smoke next to the Hufflepuff boy. It curls, contorts and turns into a shirtless male silhouette, pale and perfectly-sculpted. The flickering, unclear face slowly sharpens in his vision, and he in a breath. It's Lee Hongbin from Ravenclaw, the only one the picky Hakyeon had ever claimed to have had a crush on, and Wonshik understands, because the Hongbin standing in front of him has a killer crooked smile on his face, large eyes, handsome features, and a toned yet skinny upper body, the dreams of any girl or guy. He thinks he knows what is coming next, taking experience from his Gryffindor senior Ron Weasley, who saw Hermione kissing Harry, but Wonshik doesn't think he can stomach Hakyeon's mocking face as he leans down to place his lips on Hongbin's. The words resound in his eardrums and he's one step away from breaking down. "Useless waste of space. Parentless, and always my last choice," Hakyeon hisses, sliding his hands across Hongbin's torso, arms snaking round his waist. "I have never loved you, Kim Wonshik," the figure taunts, circling Hongbin, who is exuding a glow, absolutely perfect, such a contrast to the Gryffindor wizard who is half-crouching, desperately trying to avert his eyes. And then Hakyeon kisses Hongbin, passionately, the two people twining closely through the fog, and Wonshik feels broken, exhausted, like he has no reason to carry on. The emotional pain pierced through him like a sword, fatally and accurately. Wasn't this what he was the most scared of in the end? That Hakyeon, the beautiful Hakyeon, would leave him for someone else better, and he would be the only one left, alone as always. 

"Tsk, are you deaf? Do you need me to remind you again? That I love you?"

"Shut up or I'm going to have to kiss you."

"Hey, hey! Kim Wonshik! Don't you dare give up on yourself. Think about me who has been by your side. I have been, and I will always be."

That was not Hakyeon. The blurry person conjured by the goddamned pearl was not Hakyeon. How dare that inanimate object project Hakyeon, his Hakyeon who exuded charm even when asleep, as such a menacing beast? Wonshik was filled with explainable rage at the source of his misery and the root of Hakyeon's possession, and brandishing his wand, he charged at the glow, the shining Hongbin, hitting a spell directly at the fog figure's heart, destroying the perfect Lee Hongbin with a single "Confringo!" An orange, fire-like light burst out of his wand, and the sheer impact sent him flying backwards. The pearl exploded into dancing flames, and the smoke people disappeared. The scenes flickered past his eyes like a damaged television as the broken fragments of the pearl melted in the fire, and soon, he was left lying on the floor of the Hogwarts court house, panting heavily, unshed tears in his eyes. He can't move, his legs like jelly after the entire ordeal. He tries to regulate his breathing, and lets the tears slide out of his eyes. It's over, entirely over. He had survived, and Hakyeon would be returned to him. Kim Wonshik curls up, and cries.

Silence rings on the other side, and Hakyeon takes it as a cue that the mission is over. Hakyeon fiddles with the lock on the court house door, trying to pick it, but he gives up on rattling the metal and instead chooses the easy way out, using the unlocking charm to push it open. The rusty lock gives way almost instantaneously, and he bolts in. "Wonshik?" He whispers in a hushed tone, looking worriedly at the male lying on the ground, unmoving, and he almost, almost thinks that-

"Hey." The boy sits up, rubbing at his eyes, that are really, really red, both from exhaustion and crying. Hakyeon practically invites the rush of air that enters his lungs, having held his breath before, and surges forward with no words, embracing Wonshik. "I had this horrible dream that you turned into a shark," he starts, "I mean you are one, but it was still horrifying anyway. I'm glad you survived." Wonshik laughs, albeit shakily, and wraps his arms around the thin male, whispering, "You've been out like a light for weeks now, but you're gonna be fine, aight? I succeeded in the mission." Hakyeon doesn't reply, merely nestles deeper into the hug, burying his face in the taller boy's neck. After a few moments of tranquil silence, Hakyeon screams an unintelligible string of "why didn't you tell me" "how could you do this" "you worried me to death", and turns around, huffing and puffing, almost yelling all over again when he spots the damage Wonshik has created with a single blast. "Scourgify! Scourgify! Scourgify!" He can't seem to stop saying, watching the pieces of cement lift themselves off the ground and plaster back into walls or pillars, while Wonshik looks on lovingly, despite the ember of annoyance that had risen in his throat. His Hakyeon, he thought, and decides to go for something more connective, closer to his heart. Mine.

Hakyeon lets Wonshik get sufficient rest, and due to the Gryffindor wizard literally becoming a dead log when asleep, it's a good six days before they get to meet each other late at night, under the blanket of stars. They cuddle under Wonshik's huge robe, sticking close together for warmth, when Hakyeon brings up the pearl. "Wonshik, what did you imagi- no, see when you were destroying the pearl? Was it terrifying?" Hakyeon's tone is hesitant, filled with pauses here and there. "Yes, it was really scary," Wonshik replies almost immediately, "but it was all worth it." "Listen to me," the Hufflepuff boy interjects, "don't ever risk your life for me ever again. It isn't a wise choice," Wonshik chooses to ignore that sentence, because he knows whether or not Hakyeon had said it, he would have chosen the same path over and over again if time were to turn back. "I saw you," he whispers, softly, and Hakyeon is alarmed. "Me? Am I really that frightening?" He pouts, and Wonshik chuckles. Then Wonshik puts his arm around Hakyeon, and says gently, "I love you, a lot and a lot," The shorter male grins, "Me too. And now that you've said that, you have to go with me. Only me." "Only you," Wonshik answers in all seriousness, and Hakyeon's face burns. "Okay, now stop before you make me say anything even more mushy than that," he whines, displaying a sassy face that makes Wonshik lean down and kiss him. There are no words after that.

Hogwarts breaks for Christmas. The students and professors return home for the holiday season. On the 25th of December, Wonshik gets owl mail, and it doesn't take a genius to see that the grumpy animal has a Hufflepuff badge attached to its outer feathers. 

Dear Wonshik,

Merry Christmas! I don't say this very often, but I love you. You know how they say the Gryffindors are the bravest? Well, they're right. You're my warrior, and thank you for everything you've done. You're the best thing that has happened to me. 

Hakyeon

Kim Wonshik smiles, tucks the letter into his left robe, close to his heart, and hunts for a postcard.

The End

Word Count; 8473