“Come on, mate, we’re gonna be late for class!”

A shove to the shoulder made Junho roll on his back. He would have hit his head if it weren’t for somebody - probably the same guy who had woken him up - grabbing him by his robes to pull him away from the fireplace.

“Bloody hell, Harry!” The voice sounded much closer now, but Junho didn’t understand why he was being yelled at when his name was not-- “How much did you blokes drink last night? This is getting out of hand. Hermione will not be pleased...”

Junho forced himself to open his eyes and focus despite the pounding in his head. The voice was still talking, and it belonged to a ginger-haired boy that looked familiar, but he couldn’t pinpoint from where yet. “Who are you?” he moved back and did hit his head this time, wincing in pain as he tried to recognize his surroundings. 

There was so much red. The large sofa and the two matching armchairs to his right were a deep crimson that matched the lighter shade of the walls, covered with richly framed paintings of-- moving pictures? He found himself gaping as his hazy brain started connecting things, and the red hair--

He was looking at Junho with something akin to suspicion in his eye, though he also looked a little worried. His voice carried more of the latter. “Are you okay, Harry?”

“Why are you calling me Harry?” Junho asked, as calmly as he could. He wanted to laugh but he also wanted to run around and find a broom and fly, because if he was in Harry Potter dreamland--

“What else would I call you? Potter? The Chosen One? The Boy-Who-Lived?”

“Wait, wait--” Junho felt his lips tug up, but apparently that was the wrong reaction because Ron looked mildly offended. Ron. Ronald Weasley. “Ron?” he tried, mustering up his best I’m-hangover-can’t-think-properly face. Junho didn’t have much experience exhibiting one, but he had seen it enough on his friends’ faces to pull one of his own. And his head did feel like he had drunk a lot the previous night. 

The ginger-haired, freckled boy nodded, looking at him as if he were stupid. Maybe he was as befuddled by his - Harry’s - behaviour as Junho felt about whatever was going on. “Yeah?”

“Um. My name is Junho,” he said, and felt his ears go red.

Ron scoffed. “Harry, you’ve never liked being called by your father’s name, but ever since you and those--”

“My father?”

“For Merlin’s sake, you didn’t hit your head that hard! Or did you just come back? What didyou blokes do last night?”

What indeed? Was he dreaming, or was he high? Junho wanted to snort at both notions. This felt too real for either, but he really didn’t remember anything. Maybe the preparations for their comeback had finally made him go crazy and it was all in his head, so for now he decided to just play along. “So, I wasn’t with you and... Hermione... last night?”

Ron flushed. He coughed, recovering faster than Junho expected. “You were with the Puffy Gang.”

“Puffy... gang...” Junho bit his lower lip. Ron didn’t seem to like whatever this group represented or maybe who was in it, so he had better not laugh. He wondered if that was how they called themselves, or if it was a sign of resentment on Ron’s part. Junho had no doubt it could be the real name if Minjun had anything to do with it, though. He wouldn’t listen to anyone telling him that Puffy did not stand for a Bro Expression if he decided otherwise. 

“Look, I’ve already had breakfast, so you just need to-- Hermione, thank Merlin you’re up!” Ron turned a little too eagerly to the girl that just came into the room, her once bushy hair tamed into neat waves that fell to her shoulders. Junho’s hands went to his own hair by reflex, and he found the locks to be as messy and curly as one would expect of Harry Potter. 

“I’ve been up for an hour already, Ron,” Hermione said matter-of-factly, looking pointedly at the door through which she just walked. “I waited for you at the Great Hall, but since you took too long, I had breakfast with Ginny--” she stopped abruptly, and cleared . Junho guessed the tension in the air had something to do with Ginny and Harry, and he wondered if he was supposed to be sad, confused, angry, or if he could just settle for what he hoped was an unreadable look. “You look terrible, Harry,” she said, almost fondly, but there was some reproach in her voice that became more clear as she spoke. “Herbology starts in ten minutes,” Junho felt something in his hair and barely caught sight of Hermione pocketing her wand before she nodded in approval at what he supposed was a Flattening Spell. It tingled slightly. “You better hurry, wash up, and get something to eat while Ron and I deal with Professor Sprout.”

Junho wondered if she was always this patronizing, but not for long. At least his memories of the Harry Potter movies seemed to help. Ron shrugged as if to say they’d talk later, apparently reassured now that Hermione had checked up on their best friend – kind of. Junho was a little relieved when they left, but that also did not last a minute. 

He was alone in the Gryffindor Common Room. He was... Harry Potter? 

He laughed out loud. 

Then he stopped. Frowned. Almost panicked.

What was he going to do now?


~*~


Junho thought the icy cold water would wake him up, but of course it couldn’t be that easy. He was still - here. In... Hogwarts? Or else. The mirror told him a number of things that sustained what he had come across so far. There was a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead, and it only turned red when he tried to rub it off. He could feel the dip in his skin; it was real. Magically real, he thought, and then laughed at himself, ignoring the edge of despair in the sound that echoed in the immense, tiled bathroom. He hoped there would be no surprising visitors here; no ghosts, and then he found himself wondering which movie this was, that is, if there was any real logic behind what was happening. 

He was wearing Hogwarts robes, his scarf and tie both striped in crimson and gold, the Gryffindor colors. There was a wand in his pocket, he could feel it, but he both dreaded and longed to touch it. If he really was Harry Potter - he wanted to laugh again, but there was a tiny bubble at the back of his throat that threatened to explode, so he held it back. If hewas Harry Potter, he could do magic.

“Magic,” he whispered, shaking his head in puzzlement, and then disbelief. 

If he could indeed use magic, he could make wonders, or cause a disaster. 

“But how did I end up here?” he wondered aloud, drying his face. He tried to recall the last thing he did before going to bed--

His head started pounding again. It was not just the hangover; a searing pain shot through him, so intense he felt dizzy and had to hold onto the sink not to fall. He gasped, knowing he should keep his face relaxed but it was almost impossible to bear it-- He’d need a Soothing Potion--

It stopped just as suddenly as it had started. Junho braced himself, the relief almost bringing him to his knees as well. He blinked repeatedly, only letting go of the sink when he felt he could stand up without swaying. 

He stared at the mirror, at the scar that marked his otherwise familiar face. Pale skin, the once round cheekbones that had thinned but still stood out when he laughed, sharp jaw and full lips he had always been proud of. Smiling eyes, the fame which didn’t always reflect what was in them as much as the shape they made. Small eyes. He looked and found the stealth in them. He nodded, raking his fingers through the blond curls which Hermione had settled with a nonverbal spell that he would have to learn if he were to go through this for another day. It was just morning, but Junho felt the bubble dissolving into something pleasantly cool that tug at his insides. 

He was excited, and this, whatever it was, could be good. 


~*~


The Great Hall was almost empty by the time he got there, not so assured anymore. He had got lost in the corridors of the castle, been mislead by some of the moving stairs. He had panicked, blessed and damned the seemingly empty corridors as all students were supposed to be in class right now. Crossing his arms in front of his chest in frustration didn’t help, or at least it shouldn’t, but that was how he found out he had the Marauder’s Map in one of his pockets. At first, he feared the paper might be ripped to pieces or burst into flames if he dared touch it, but he soon recalled the words and made the ink come to life despite his shaking hands. He was amazed it had worked at all, as amazed by the fact that he was holding Harry Potter’s wand and doing magic with it, and chanting words to do with mischief, and then his name appeared on the parchment and he smiled giddily at it. 

Well, it was not his real name, but - Harry Junho Potter didn’t sound so bad. At least that’s what he hoped the J. stood for, if that was what Ron meant earlier.

Now, he had to take a deep breath and fight the will to gape at the food that seemed to go on forever as piles on the long tables that occupied most of the room. Then he realized he didn’t know where to sit, which table belonged to which House - was he even allowed to sit and have breakfast or was it too late?

“Herbology class, man!” Someone took him by the arm and tried to lead him away from a tray of what looked like vanilla scones before Junho could even decide that’s what he wanted to eat first. 

Junho turned around and stood speechless at the sight of a nineteen-year-old Wooyoung, or at least that’s how old he looked then, as if cut out of Junho’s debut memories. He was wearing a black and yellow tie, so he was in... Hufflepuff? 

“Wooyoung...?” he tried, hoping the other’s approach meant more than just a nagging classmate fetching him. 

“Yeah? You okay, Junho ya?” he was smiling, half assessing half teasing, and Junho recalled something else Ron had said. 

“I guess... I’m still under the influence...” he concealed the questioning tone in his voice, or tried to. Wooyoung snorted, though he also flushed, leaving Junho to wonder what thatwas about. 

“Come on,” Wooyoung threw an arm around his shoulders, and Junho let himself be guided, ignoring the protests of his empty stomach. He had gone a whole day with just a lollipop when he was dieting for concerts, he could eat later. “You had two shots of Firewhiskey and passed out! We had to drag you to the Gryffindor Tower. Well, Jay used a weightless charm, but the Fat Lady wasn’t too pleased when you couldn’t remember the password. Somehow Chansung got it, though.” 

Wooyoung turned to face him, because Junho had stopped dead in his tracks at hearing Jay’s name - Jaebum, and Wooyoung talking about him like he used to, with fondness and admiration and respect for the hyung that had once been their leader. It was too much for Junho to take at once, reality or not. 

“What... what happened last night?” he asked, to Wooyoung but also to nobody in particular, for he was trying and failing at recalling what had been going on before - before he got here? Could he remember the Firewhiskey, Jay, Chansung, if he couldn’t remember what should come easier to him than what was just a fantasy world?

Wooyoung’s cheeks had turned red again, and Junho frowned even as his heart warmed at the sight of this younger, different, world unchanged, Wooyoung. All that blushing was uncanny though, unless something specific had happened. Even in the earlier days, Wooyoung was not so easily embarrassed. Actually, to Junho he had sometimes seemed more spontaneously wild and less self-conscious than he did now. 

“Do you remember anything?” Wooyoung asked, looking at his eyes now, almost worried yet a little... skeptical. When Junho just shook his head, he sighed, but took him by the arm and kept leading them out of the castle.

“OhmygoditsFREEZING!” Junho exclaimed as soon as the cutting air hit his face, hugging his arms even as he felt something warm cover his head and then his hands. He looked down to see gloves, and he suspected what he felt over his hair was a woolen beanie. The extra warmth came from a spell, but all things were Wooyoung’s doing.

Wooyoung, who was rolling his eyes at Junho. “You always forget to put on those, but at least it got me to perfect this Conjuring Charm.” He paused, and smiled suddenly. “Remember that time I tried it and the hat got all tangled up in your hair?”

Junho nodded even though he had no idea what that was about. He could imagine it, somehow, and that worked at making him smile back at Wooyoung. “Thanks, mate.”

Wooyoung snorted once more. 

“What is it?” Junho asked, genuinely curious.

“‘Mate.’ That’s how Weasley calls you.”

“And... that’s funny because... you and I are part of the Puffy Gang...?” 

Wooyoung gave him that assessing look again. Then he shook his head, and mumbled, almost to himself, “I guess Jay put something in that Firewhiskey... you’re acting weird, and I... again...”

“What’s that, Woodongie?” Junho ventured, cocking his head as if to peek at him from below. Wooyoung shoved him away like Junho expected him to, an amused smile breaking easily between them. “Did you do something dirty last night? And again? Ohhh you’re blushing!” 

“Shut up, you prick,” but Wooyoung still sounded amused. If Junho had more of Minjun in him, he might have pulled at his cheeks then. He didn’t think this version of Wooyoung would appreciate that any better, though. “You know what this is about.”

Junho stopped - they were lucky the layer of snow that covered the ground was thin and didn’t make it unbearably cold to just stand there. However, they were still too far from the greenhouse where he supposed the class would take place, that is, if the lesson were still going on by the time he got there. What concerned him more right now was how abashed Wooyoung looked. “I really...” he paused, but there was nothing else he could think of except what he was going to say. “I really don’t know what this is about, Wooyoung.”

The other looked ready to dismiss his words as a bait - for it could have been one, Junho wouldn’t deny he would have faked ignorance just to get at Wooyoung if he did know what had happened and just wanted to a little, but it was not the case. Wooyoung must have believed that, the look in Junho’s eyes as honest as he could make it. 

“I had too much Firewhiskey,” Wooyoung said, as if that were his defense, and Junho nodded to show he was listening. “Jay let you have more than usual because we thought you would get crazy too, but you just fell asleep again,” he sounded slightly exasperated, and Junho refrained from asking if two shots were more than he usually had or if Wooyoung had been mistaken when he first mentioned this. “Anyway, as usual, after that we continued drinking and I tried another of those... changing charms... and this time Chansung asked for a schoolgirl uniform, and I didn’t really want to, but--”

“Chansung--” Junho interrupted himself, more willing to hear the rest of the story than he was to scream at Wooyoung to stop so he could roar at the absurdity of what he was hearing.

“But I was drunk, okay, I had like ten or twelve of those damn shots, I don’t know how many bottles Jay brought this time, and then I-- danced and Jay pretended to be Voldemort wearing pink pajamas but he was fighting Chansung because they both wanted the school girl--”

“Which was you,” Junho had to chime in, and Wooyoung just ignored him, rushing on.

“And Chansung won because he always wins, I guess Jay lets him because he knows, he, Chansung I mean, and...”

“...and the Knight in Charming Armor kisses the Beautiful Princess after saving her from the Evil Queen?”

Wooyoung glared at him. “I hate when you use Muggle references to guess things, so I have to think about them and then it’s too late to deny it.”

Junho’s jaw dropped. He didn’t try to avoid it this time.

Wooyoung seemed about to ask what that was about, but then he shut his mouth and flushed once more. 

“So... you and Chansung...”

“Shut up, okay.”

“And it was not the first time...”

“I said, shut up.”

Junho did, but only because he did not want to risk going too far with Wooyoung, lest he lose the one friend he knew he could rely on right now. 


~*~


The Herbology class included students from all Houses, but not all of them were there, considering this was the second year where classes were divided according to what they had chosen for their N.E.W.T. exams. Junho didn’t remember what the acronym stood for but he dismissed it, focusing on the other information his group of friends gave him unknowingly. The so-called Puffy Gang, as he realized, was led by Jay, who was in Slytherin House, and included Wooyoung and Chansung, both Hufflepuffs, and Junho as the Gryffindor representative. He wondered where the Old Boy Team fit in this picture, and if they would show up at all, or at least be mentioned.

The four of them, or rather, the other three were discussing what sounded like a plan to rob one of the plants on which they were working in class. Junho had to try and not sound too alarmed by the idea when he asked, softly, “What do you need it for?”

“Dude, are you even paying attention?” Jay - twenty-year-old looking, baby-faced, strong-built Jay - slapped at the back of Junho’s head in a way that brought too many memories for it to hurt, although he hadn’t hit hard at all. It was a bro thing. An old thing. Junho felt numb instead. 

“Let him be, hyung,” said Chansung, and Junho had to keep repressing the will to laugh at his bun whenever he looked at the maknae. He was so young, his smile so refreshing, all big eyes and big nose and big limbs, Junho ended up smiling, missing him, missing all of them. “I’ll explain it to him again later, after Potions.”

“We’ll need to be extra careful there,” said Wooyoung, as he prepared a pot with special earth where Chomping Cabbage would be planted. Junho had jokingly asked if that could be used to make kimchi, but only Chansung chuckled at him then. 

“Are we also getting something from the Potions lab?” he asked, getting a warning look from Jay and a sigh from Wooyoung.

“This is Chomping Cabbage, Junho ya. You do remember what it does, right?” 

Junho hesitated, but shook his head. As frustrating as it was, it seemed better to have the others explain things to him as much as they seemed obvious or as if it were the thousandth time, than to remain in oblivion. Jay only got impatient when Junho forgot to keep a low voice as they discussed things. Wooyoung’s initial complaint was no news to Junho, as long as the other eventually explained things to him, and Chansung was the most calm, unfazed by what could be considered a temporary memory loss on Junho’s part. 

The youngest one told him, then, that the Chomping Cabbage was used to chomp on other food, and was thus used in Potions when you needed to mince ingredients a certain way or use the mixed spit that the Chomping Cabbage would produce after ejecting the remains. Since they needed a grown one for the Secret Potion they would make - again, not in class, Junho - they would have to get one from Professor Sprout’s garden. The problem was keeping a Chomping Cabbage hidden in Potions class, for the cut plant started salivating and smelling when not fed. Most students wouldn’t notice but an experienced Master such as Professor Slughorn might not miss it. Despite all that clarification, Chansung refused to tell him what they needed the plant for until after their morning classes were over, maybe for fear that they might be overheard, or that Jay would smack them. 


~*~


Nichkhun was in Ravenclaw. The discovery did not surprise Junho, though he had to wonder if the Sorting Hat had also offered another possibility to the Thai. He could picture him in other Houses, just as he could himself and the remaining members of “the gang.” Nichkhun was also Head Boy, and contrary to the Golden Trio he had already completed his Seventh Year for he had not left the school during the war. He was one of the Dumbledore’s Army members who had helped protect students against Death Eaters, and he had fought during the Battle of Hogwarts. It was his second consecutive year as Head Boy, and most students didn’t mind or even appreciated that. There had not been time for him to become a stranger to anyone after he graduated because he soon came back to work as a Potions apprentice

Chansung gave all those details to Junho more spontaneously than before, so maybe he had not been expected to know all that. In fact, while Chansung helped Jay select ingredients, their hyung advised Junho to be extra careful around Nichkhun, because he had the keen eyes that Slughorn sometimes lacked. For all his experience, youth and wit could still be more advantageous at sensing schemes. There seemed to be something else there, but Junho was not so familiar with Jay, not anymore, not yet, to get what it was.

The Chomping Cabbage had been shrunk and was hidden in one of Junho’s pockets, and he could feel the smell, which was rather unpleasant. They had been grouped in trios, and the only criteria the Professor had imposed was to have one student from each House, as the Potion they would learn required different skills. Junho did not think he would be useful at all, but he also recalled that Harry himself was terrible at Potions, so that prevented what could have been a panic attack in case he caused a disaster. Not that there wouldn’t be one, anyway, if somebody discovered that he had a stolen plant with him.

“Breathe, Nuneo,” Chansung said, without looking up at him. He was checking their list of ingredients while Jay used his wand to cut seven spider legs into perfectly equal pieces. 

“It stinks,” Junho mumbled. 

Jay made a farting noise so loud some students laughed, while others turned to glare at them for the interruption. “Oh come on, we’re all just sorting ingredients,” he said, which only served to turn their Professor’s attention to them.

Chansung froze for a second, and Junho looked at them in distress, only to feel a kick at his shin that told him to act natural. He had to bite back a curse instead, and his ears were betraying him. 

“Are you quite alright, Mr. Potter?” Slughorn approached their table with a stern expression that he fixed on Jay even as he talked to Junho. He only turned to the latter after two or three seconds in which Jay smiled apologetically, hard to fool anyone. 

“Excuse me, Professor, but I think he’s not very well.” It was Hermione, who came to Junho’s side and put a hand on his arm. “He didn’t have breakfast and I think he just...” She trailed off, and Junho was mortified at what she was implying.

Professor Slughorn wrinkled his nose at him, but tried to cover it up by turning to their cauldron, which was still unheated, something that did call for a reprimand. “Mr. Potter, I think you might need to see Madam Pomfrey.”

“But... I...”

Hermione squeezed his arm with urgency, so Junho shut up immediately and nodded, letting her drag him out of the classroom. He could feel the others’ eyes on them, Ron and Jay and Wooyoung and Nichkhun, but Hermione kept a steady pace until they were away from the dungeons. Then she turned a corner, cast what Junho supposed was a Private Charm, and frowned at him.

“What are you boys up to?” Junho opened his mouth, but she raised her hand before he could speak. “You’re a terrible liar, Harry, so don’t even try.” She paused, looked at him, but then a sigh escaped her as if she had been holding it back for a long time. “Harry, I know it’s been really hard on you, and I understand you’re trying to catch up on the little time you’ve still got before becoming an adult... but does it have to be like this? All the parties, and the pranks, and risk getting detention for things you don’t even know?” She exhibited the shrunk Chomping Cabbage, and Junho’s eyes must have turned to sauces then, for her somewhat annoyed sigh didn’t conceal how proud she felt at being able to get that from him unnoticed. 

Junho suspected her silence meant he should say something, but he was at a loss. He stood there awkwardly, and scratched at his nose, where Harry’s glasses would have rested. “Where are my glasses?” he heard himself saying out loud. Hermione looked torn between scolding him for evading the subject and asking him what the hell was going on. In the end, she settled for a patient smile.

“I thought you were wearing lenses?”

Junho almost denied it, but then it would only be one more thing to explain, so he just nodded. “So... are you giving that back to me?” he looked at Hermione’s right fist, where he hoped the green vegetable still was. She let out a heavy breath before opening it up and letting him have it. “Thanks, ‘Mione,” he said, smiling brightly at her. She seemed momentarily surprised, but eased back into a small grin of her own, though she frowned once more.

“Just try to stay out of trouble, okay?”

Junho shrugged. “Trouble always finds me.”

Hermione tried not to, but she still giggled. “Oh, Harry. Just-- Listen, you know you can count on me, right?” He nodded, and it wasn’t forced. “Good. If you need anything, I’ll be here, okay? Ron, too. We miss you, y’know.”

Junho wondered if it was possible to miss somebody while living in the same house as them - even if it was a Hogwarts House. His guts told him he knew the answer to that, but when he tried to remember, his head started spinning.

“Harry!”


~*~


“I don’t understand why you’re wasting time on him.”

“Shut up, man. You jelly?”

“You shut up.”

“Ha, ha. You know, man, if you two just talked...”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Yeah, yeah, just as there’s no reason for you to be so worked up that I’m still spending time with him ‘cause you’re too much of a chicken to step up. Am I right?”

Step, step, step. Pause. Turning heels. Step, step, step. Pause. Sigh. “He doesn’t remember.”

“I told you, you won’t know until you talk to him.”

“He doesn’t. He would have talked to me if he knew. He would.”

“What if he’s just afraid of talking to you, as much as you are of talking to him?”

“I’m not. Stop making that face, you look like a stupid clown.”

“‘s not me you should be appreciating. You know what? I think you oughta try at least... to expose that, y’know. That. Y’know. Just to see what happens.”

Sigh. Step. Breathe. Sigh. “It’s... it’s ugly, Jay.”

“Ain’t see you covering up your face no matter how ugly ‘tis.”

“Tsk. I’ll just... Tell me if he gets any worse, okay?”

“Look at you, worried sick because Wonder Boy here got a little airheaded.”

“Shut up.”

Silence. 


~*~


The first thing Junho saw when he came to was a scone, the smell of which had probably helped him wake up. He smiled and reached for it, humming as he bit into the creamy stuffing and the expected vanilla flavor filled his mouth. 

“Good to see you’re up, Mr. Potter.” 

He almost spat all over the sheets as he looked to the owner of that stern voice and, sure enough, Minerva McGonagall, the Professor turned Headmistress, was standing a few meters away from him. It seemed she had been talking to Nurse Pomfrey, but the latter nodded at him with a smile before withdrawing. The Headmistress walked to his bed and looked at the scone in his hands, not smiling but with a glint in her eyes that told him he could and should keep eating. Junho feared he would choke while trying to swallow through that first bite that he had already had, but he managed to do it, and then took another, smaller bite, aware of Professor McGonagall’s eyes fixed on him. After he had eaten half of it, she nodded, as if appeased.

“Food is important, Mr. Potter. One finds it difficult to concentrate in class on an empty stomach.”

Junho swallowed hard, and nodded meekly. He felt more chastised than if it were his own mother talking to him. 

“However, this morning must have been confusing for you.” She arched an eyebrow, as if he would challenge her statement. Junho was simply terrified at the idea that she might know he was not the actual Harry Potter, all thoughts of drunken nights with Hufflepuffs and Slytherins gone from his mind. How could he explain who he was in a believable way, when he barely understood what was going on himself? “I suppose you still remember how to use a Pensieve?”

Junho made sure he was absolutely certain of what that was, and only then acquiesced. The Headmistress’s gaze lingered on him for a second before she nodded, too. 

“If you ever need it, Mr. Potter, don’t hesitate.”

She looked at him, a near smile on her lips before she turned, leaving him dumbfounded, way more confused than when he had first woken up that day. He did not have much time to recover from that or mull over her words, though, for the infirmary was soon filled with the gang, and Ron and Hermione, and Neville and Ginny, who came hand in hand, the latter fierce while the former tried not to look too nervous while still putting on a brave front. Junho smiled at them both; that story was definitely not his own, so he did not feel uncomfortable at all, or guilty, or anything else he might have if he were actually in Harry’s shoes, instead of just-- Well, in his place. He was still in his own body, thank you very much.

“It’s a pity you’ll miss History of Magic,” Jay shook his head, a fake, grave look on his features. Junho rolled his eyes, and he thought he caught Hermione concealing a laugh, while Ron actually grinned. 

“He sure is in a much more comfy place to sleep,” Wooyoung added, and then handed another scone to Junho, along with a glass of pumpkin juice. 

“Do you want us to bring you anything from lunch?” Chansung asked, and Junho shook his head, indicating what was his third or fourth scone already. “I’m talking about real food, Nuneo.”

“Hey, you bet he’s enjoying this!” said Wooyoung, who had gone to the kitchens just to get the scones for which he had seen his friend drooling that morning.

“I am,” Junho said, smiling at Wooyoung before turning to Chansung. “But I’d still like you to bring me something, Channie.”

Chansung shook his head teasingly at Wooyoung, who just grimaced in turn. 

“Now kiss,” said Jay, cackling even as Wooyoung turned to hit furiously at him. 


~*~


Junho didn’t think he needed to stay so long in the hospital wing, but he couldn’t argue with Madam Pomfrey, who threatened to give him a Sleeping Draught if he tried to get out of bed before she discharged him. The evening was well on by the time that happened, and he wondered where he should go first. He did not know the password for the Gryffindor Tower, though he also wouldn’t have much to do there, unless Ron or Hermione were around. Not that talking to them would be easy, considering he didn’t really knowwhat had happened to make him apparently distant from them. He assumed it had something to do with Ginny and their obvious breakup, but that had happened before he - came to this - this - fantasy world, he decided. He could keep calling it that and it wouldn’t make a difference whether he was dreaming, going crazy or something else. He was still intent on playing along until he got tired of this, and his curiosity still had the better of him right now. 

He chose the Great Hall to see if dinner was already served. He had to check the Marauder’s Map to make sure he wouldn’t get lost this time, and even then he feared walking around with that precious roll of parchment in his hands where anyone could see. The war was over, but being Harry Potter in Hogwarts had never seemed like a completely safe situation. 

The doors to the Great Hall were open but his appearance still caused heads to turn and a momentary, heavy silence took place as Junho walked in, map already tucked in one of his pockets. He tried not to bow or seem too flustered; people were staring because they thought he was their Savior, not because they could see he was a usurper, however accidental. At least he hoped they couldn’t. 

As he approached the Gryffindor table and sat down next to Ron and across from Hermione, the students went back to their meals, and Junho released his breath, deflating for a second. 

“You better, mate?” Ron was munching on a piece of sausage, on a plate of what Junho later found out was called Toad in the Hole, when Hermione offered him some. 

Junho grinned at his ginger-haired companion. “Yeah. Thanks for asking.”

Ron mumbled something Junho could not quite catch because he had just stuffed his mouth with another bite, so Junho turned to Hermione. She was trying not to send her boyfriend a disgusted look, it seemed, but her face broke into a smile and she nodded at Junho. 

“I’m happy you’re okay, and that you came to sit with us, Harry.”

Junho could have asked what she meant, but it was either obvious or something in which he really did not want to meddle, so he just nodded and smiled at her, turning his attention to the other dishes spread between them, and all around. He found out there was Dragon Tartare, some kind of chicken salad, sandwiches and fruit for the ones who did not want to eat much. He was hungry, though, so he set for a serving of Panino Pescadore, made with seafood. He ate it slowly and savored each bite, thinking he would gladly give up on dessert until Ron said something about a Treacle Tart that sounded too good to pass. 

He was pleasantly satisfied and looking for familiar faces when he heard what seemed like Jay’s indignant voice coming from the Slytherin table. Junho spotted him easily, arguing with a much taller guy that wore the same silver and green scarf as he did. There was also an all green badge that caught Junho’s eye when the guy turned, as if knowing somebody was looking at him. 

The teasing smile accompanied by a dimpled left cheek and piercing eyes made Junho start. “Taec,” he mumbled. He wanted to go there and talk to him, but once Jay noticed where Junho was looking, he got even more agitated, whereas Taecyeon remained calm, looking back and down at the older one as if amused by his display. “Is that...” He shook his head and looked at Hermione and Ron. “Do you guys know what’s going on?”

Ron followed his gaze and made a face, swallowing a piece of tart as if it had suddenly turned sour. “I thought we had moved on from Malfoy, mate.”

“Malfoy...” He paused, looked back at Taecyeon and then at Hermione. “Malfoy?”

“I know you’ve been calling him by his first name, Harry,” she said, as if that were a fact she had had to accept no matter how much she disliked it. “But don’t expect us to do the same, please.”

“Did you see what the bloody git’s wearing? So much for your courtesy,” said Ron, who had finally stopped eating to better observe the Slytherin table. 

Junho frowned. He tried to get a better look at the badge, but before Taecyeon turned to look at him again, his memory of the movies got him. “Potter Stinks,” he said, not sure what to make of that, but apparently his weak reaction was the wrong one. 

“You’re not angry? Not even a little?”

Junho shook his head at Ron, not as a denial, but because he was confused and he needed to think. If Taecyeon was a Malfoy, that meant they were... enemies? Or had things changed in this world? The badge said Taecyeon despised him, or at least liked to make fun of him. The latter would be no news in real life, either, but Taecyeon probably wouldn’t go that far. Except...

Junho was getting dizzy again, and he hated that. He forced himself to stay in the present. He needed to find out why Jay was so angry. The offensive message might be enough, but if both Jay and Taecyeon were in the same House, maybe they were friends. Junho got up, ignoring Hermione’s pleading look, and went as calmly as he could to the Slytherin table.

“Jay,” he called softly from behind his friend, his gaze locked on Taecyeon’s, whose smile had turned pleased yet derisive, surely a Malfoy fit. 

“Oh ,” the oldest yet shortest of them turned to look at Junho, his face going through so many changes at once that Junho’s interest was almost diverted to him instead. “Let me handle this, man. He’ll take that off in a beat.”

Junho shook his head once, and hoped Jay understood that was not what bothered him. Not really. “Taec,” he said, voice low but steady; making it clear the name was not foreign to his lips. 

Taecyeon seemed taken aback by what was certainly an unexpected way of dealing with his provocation, but quickly recovered, sneering at him. “Came to make some Slytherins fall for your scent, Potter?”

A group of students who were sitting close-by sniggered, while others just watched, waiting for what would have usually been Harry’s temper rising until he snapped. They had that in common, Junho knew he would have risen to the bait way too easily, but this situation was different. The more befuddling it seemed, the more he wanted to understand it, and to do so he needed to keep his feelings at bay.

“I just want to talk to a friend,” Junho said, looking at Taecyeon, whose eyes widened for a second. Then Junho turned to Jay, and he hid his smile at knowing he had gotten Taecyeon’s attention when the other had hoped to catch his. “Have you eaten well, hyung?” 

Jay frowned at him as if he had forgotten the meaning of that respectful word, but maybe they simply did not use formalities in the gang. It was a simple mistake, though, and fainting made up for enough panic attacks that Junho remained stable, no longer worrying so much about those things. “Yup, I’m done. You wanna talk?”

Junho nodded. Jay glanced at Taecyeon and they shared a look that Junho did not understand then, but it seemed to say, “later.” 


~*~

Ron did not need to wake him up this time. Junho had barely slept, replaying his conversation with Jay over and over again. He had also both hoped and feared that, if he fell asleep, he might not wake up in this fantasy world anymore, and thus the mystery would remain unsolved. 

The mystery being his relationship with Taecyeon Malfoy.

“He needs some sense beaten into his thick skull,” Jay had said at first, still angry for reasons that escaped Junho. “This is not the way to solve things. If he wants you to do something, he should make you want to do it.”

Junho had asked what that was, but Jay had no idea, or at least that was his claim. He sounded really frustrated, because Taecyeon refused to tell him what it was, and Jay was sure the other would be even more difficult with Junho. 

“Did we... were we friends before?”

Jay had shrugged, uncertain. “It seemed you were starting to get along. Like, you sometimes went flying together, even if it was to compete with each other. You were the one who invited him first, and boy do I remember his face that day,” Jay laughed, looking distractedly at the walls as they made their way from the Great Hall to the Hufflepuff Basement, where they would meet Chansung and Wooyoung, who had to give something to Jay that Junho suspected was related to the Chomping Cabbage. “But yeah, something happened, and then you two stopped talking. Or at least you acted like he didn’t exist, which was much worse than during the war...” his voiced turned soft before he trailed off, but then he smiled again and looked at Junho. “I remember there was a year when you got kind of obsessed with him.”

Junho did not deny or ask about that, he just supposed it would be something similar to what happened in the actual Harry Potter story. This Eighth Year had many elements from that, though some things were obviously different, and he wondered if that was his imagination at work or if this was how things would be had the books and movies included this period. “So, I just... I shut him out?”

“You should know this better than anyone,” Jay had muttered, but at Junho’s hopeless look his brows furrowed. “Sorry, man, I know you’re trying to understand things. But, y’know, since you’re actually asking about this...” 

And then Jay told him that Taecyeon had been in the hospital to check up on him, and if he realized the mistake he had made at the Great Hall, he might actually do something right the next day. All the riddles and missing information drove Junho mad, but every time he tried to connect this to the real world to see if it would make more sense, a threatening pain surged at the back of his eyes. 

He heard movement downstairs and decided to quit sleep altogether in order to get ready for another day. He didn’t know if there were classes or if it was the weekend, he had forgotten to check that with the others before going to bed.

“What day is it today?” he asked a group of what were second or third year students who looked way too excited to be up that early. 

“Saturdaaaay!”

“Hogsmeade trip!”

“Chocolate Frogs!”

“Butterbeer!”

It sounded like they had the day fully planned, and they kept rushing up and down the stairs to get things while Junho still tried to make his way to the bathroom. Then he remembered, he needed to change before going out, since the bathroom was not in the Common Room. He was still in his pajamas, and even inside the castle it was too cold. He went back, and met Ron on his way in, as the other was leaving. 

“You’re not ready yet?”

Junho felt a sudden but unsurprising exhaustion. “We don’t- have classes today, right?”

Ron grinned at him even as he shook his head as if amazed at what probably sounded like Junho being dumb. “Mate, you gotta ask for some Potion to improve your memory. Maybe we’ll find you something in Diagon Alley - you do remember we’re going to Hogsmeade, right? To get you another pet?”

“But... Hedwig...”

Ron sighed, squeezing his right shoulder briefly. “You’ve got to let her go, mate. If you want, we can get another owl, but what if you tried something else?”

Junho was still trying to remember what had happened to Hedwig when Ron started to talk about the advantages of having a pet rat, except when they turned out to be runaway murderers. 

“What if I got a cat?” Junho asked, and had to repress a laugh at the face Ron made just then.

“Not if it’s another one like Crookshanks,” and he shuddered, looking around as if Hermione’s cat were spying on them. 

“I heard that, Ron,” came Hermione’s voice, but she smiled as she joined them behind the large sofa that stood in front of the fireplace. “Honestly, what are we gonna do with you, Harry?” she said, but it sounded like just a friendly tease instead of a scold, so Junho smiled back at her. 

“I’ll see you at breakfast in... twenty minutes?” he ventured, and rushed back to the boys’ dorm room. This time he made sure to put on all the necessary warm clothes and accessories before heading out.


~*~


Junho did a lot of gaping and looking or sounding stupid there, but he didn’t care. Not so much. How could he, when he had been to the real, real Three Broomsticks, Honeydukes, Dominic Maestro’s, Zonko’s, Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes... Later, he wouldn’t be able to say for sure what had happened, but at the time it felt like many Christmas wishes coming to life on a single day, leaving him breathless time and again. He felt a lot like he did when 2PM first debuted, but it was also entirely different. He wanted to look and touch and try everything, but he couldn’t, so he had to settle for a little bit of everything, which was already awesome.

He found Jay and Wooyoung when they were leaving Dogweed and Deathcap, and Junho didn’t have to ask if this had to do with whatever plan they were concocting, judging by the smug look on Jay’s face. Chansung met them halfway as they headed for The Three Broomsticks to have lunch together, a heavy-looking bag from Tomes and Scrolls hanging on his right arm. It comforted Junho, somehow, that his friends behaved mostly like he was used to, though it also amazed him, that magic or no magic they were all still kids at heart. 

He got to taste Butterbeer, which was kind of a disappointment, but not so bad, especially when they all shared some of the sweets they got from Honeydukes. Junho was supposed to meet Ron and Hermione at a pet shop whose name he kept forgetting, but Chansung led him there, saying it was on the way to The Magic Neep, where he would get the final ingredient for the Potion they were supposed to finish that evening. Junho couldn’t deny he was looking forward to that, though he also dreaded what kind of prank was coming out of it.

The pet shop was overwhelming. So many magical creatures, though these were all apparently tamed, but still impressive. Beautiful owls, grumpy looking cats that made him miss Ggomaengi, snakes that almost terrified him but were also fascinating to look at, pups that would turn into fierce beasts when protecting their masters... Junho stopped in front of an albino peacock and only shut his mouth when his jaw hurt from all the drooling. The creature was bewitching. He longed to touch its translucent feathers that looked like melting snow under the sun, but the bird didn’t seem to be of the kind that would let just anyone come near it. Still, it stood on top of a cage instead of inside it, its long tail almost curling down the cage, hanging a few inches above the floor. Junho wondered what it looked like when it stood and spread that tail. It would probably look like a giant paper fan, but blinding in its magnificence.

“That bird costs more than your money can buy, Potter,” came a voice from his right, and Junho blinked at the sight of Taecyeon. Despite the taunting words, it didn’t sound like he wanted to antagonize him. “I know, because my father sold it himself.”

Junho bit his lip to refrain from laughing as he imagined Taecyeon saying, “My father will hear about this!” Taecyeon’s gaze was fixed on him instead of on the bird, though, so Junho forced himself to stop drooling on the peacock again. He was going to ask if the bird had lived in Malfoy Manor, but that seemed obvious, and then he wanted to laugh again at the thought of Taecyeon being all pompous and pampered in a mansion. “I’m sorry,” he said, because the Slytherin - yet another amusing fact - had stiffened at the no longer concealable amusement in Junho’s eyes, which had turned to half-moons. “I was just... trying to imagine you playing with pets.”

That was close enough to the truth that Taecyeon relaxed. “Are you looking for a pet?” He asked, his face so open and inviting that Junho had to take a moment to recover himself - the buzz had come back and there seemed to be something pressing at his skull. 

“Yes...” he mumbled, and then coughed when he realized how weak his voice had sounded. “Yes, Ron and Hermione are gonna help me with that, but I kind of want... a cat...”

Taecyeon glanced at the peacock before looking back at him, the left corner of his mouth curved up. His dimple was as charming as ever. “Are you sure?”

Junho rolled his eyes. “It would be kind of troublesome to take care of a peacock, right? And I do like cats. They’re nice companions, but they’re independent and so smart, you don’t need to worry about them so much.”

His little speech had Taecyeon’s eyebrows raising a little, but he also nodded, in acceptance or something else, Junho didn’t know. “It seems you’ve already made a choice.”

“Yeah...” Junho trailed off, and one too many seconds went by before he realized they were both just staring at each other, no words or clear thoughts forming in his mind. It should be weird, but it wasn’t, for the buzz grew with intensity and Junho was under the impression he knew how to connect some things now. He wasn’t supposed to depend on the real world here, but if it could help him find out what had happened between him and Taecyeon, he was willing to take the risk. “Do you want to go flying?”

Taecyeon looked confused, and Junho realized a little late that his question had completely deviated from what they had been discussing. His ears turned red so fast he couldn’t fault Taecyeon’s nearly mocking smile as he waited for Junho to elaborate.

“I mean... later. When we return from Hogsmeade. I know it’s cold, but...” He almost fidgeted, and then he looked down at his hands, which he had unconsciously clasped together, fingers playing and displaying too much nervousness. When he looked up again, it seemed Taecyeon had taken a step closer, but Junho didn’t hear or see it, so he was not sure. 

“Yeah, I’d like to go flying with you.” His eyes went from Junho’s to his lips for the briefest of seconds, so fast he might have just imagined it. Junho’s mouth felt dry and he at it, and then he was absolutely certain of the way Taecyeon’s gaze followed that. 

“Harry?”

He should wonder that he was so used to it now, the name made him turn as if it was his own. Hermione was looking from him to Taecyeon, wonderment of her own crossing her features before she settled her eyes on Junho. It looked like she would have questions to ask later, but Junho didn’t want to talk about this with anyone. He had never done that before, he doubted he could manage to do so with Hermione, even if from her perspective they were best friends here.

When he looked from her to where Taecyeon had stood, he was no longer there. Junho sighed, but then their meeting to come made him smile again.


~*~


The Quidditch pitch was empty. Good, thought Junho, for he didn’t want anyone to interrupt them this time. Taecyeon still hadn’t arrived, but he trusted he would come, and that gave him time to try this out lest he made a fool of himself in front of the other.

He didn’t know if Harry had another broom, but he found the Firebolt and thought that would be dangerous enough in case he failed. Junho took a deep breath, made sure he memorized how to cast a Cushioning Charm from the book he had checked and the instructions Wooyoung gave him, and then he let the broom stand in the air, waist high. That it floated there didn’t impress him so much anymore, but when it didn’t give in to his weight once he sat on it felt real enough that he had to close his eyes and hold tight onto the shaft before he pushed himself off the ground.

He couldn’t describe the sound that came out of his throat but he was also breathless, even though he was just five or six inches in the air. He laughed, loud and merry, and then tried to get higher. 

Harry was great at flying, and that must have been why it came so easy to him, that he was soon meters and meters up in the air, enjoying every second of the thrill. He stopped going up to go forward, and that was something else entirely. He went too fast at first and screamed, afraid he would fall, but his hold was strong and he gasped when he stopped abruptly, his breath airy and cackling. He tried again and again until the movements became smoother and then he was almost lying on the broom as he went all around the pitch, the air whipping hard at his face. His skin would hurt but that was for later, when he was not exhilarated at the fact that he was flying. It was like all the acrobatics he had not been able to do since hurting his shoulder, it was like trying that again and not falling, not hurting himself, even though he knew at some point he might fall, he might make the injury worse, but the ever-growing excitement was so much worth it. 

He heard a voice from below, and stopped, looking down to see the small shape of Taecyeon, his hands on his face as he screamed again. Junho recalled there was some spell to make your voice loud and clear, but he didn’t know what that was, so he couldn’t mock Taecyeon for forgetting that, either. He just came down on the broom instead, and that was also another thrill, to stop and not have to rest his feet on the ground, just sitting on the broom next to Taecyeon, who was also sitting on his own. 

“It seems you’re having fun,” Taecyeon said, his smile growing as he took in the other’s face. 

Junho could only imagine how he looked, hair completely disheveled, face glowing, cheeks flushed as joy took over his features to the point where he couldn’t stop grinning. “I’m glad you came,” he stated, and then took off again, hoping Taecyeon would follow.

He did.

Junho whooped as they went higher and higher, chasing each other around the limits of field. Then Taecyeon turned suddenly, and dove, turning tricks that Junho had to stop to watch. He gasped once or twice when it looked like the other might fall, but Taecyeon always turned and went up again, spiraling into the air until Junho wondered how dizzy the other would be, since he felt so himself just from watching. 

“Are you just gonna stand there?” Taecyeon shouted from above, standing higher in the air than Junho, who went to his side, a little lost for words right then. “Come on, Potter, show me what you’ve got!” He flashed him a toothy grin before sweeping past, a blur of black, silver and green in the wind. 

Junho took a deep breath, his head light as he decided to try. He flew until he was going vertically up, the pressure growing as he got faster, and then he turned and spiraled diagonally down, drawing half a circle before flying ahead, cutting sharply in a turn as he dove, stopping so close to the ground he screamed, half fear and half delight that he had done that, but then he had to stop and gasp and breathe. Inhaling almost hurt, he was shaking, overwhelmed, still grinning. It was a faint, fleeting grin, but it kept returning, fueled back as Taecyeon looked at him with a mixture of pride and awe, or so it seemed.

Junho smiled openly at him, and noticed how that made Taecyeon’s expression change slightly. Although he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what took over his face, Junho had an idea it was not much different from his own. He hoped it wasn’t. 

“I fell,” he said as they got off their brooms, and Taecyeon stopped, both of them standing in the pitch, feet on the ground, though Junho still felt like he was high, not really here nor there. He was guessing at things here, but it was the only theory he had, and if it was wrong he preferred to find out sooner than later. “I fell, and you broke your arm trying to catch me.”

Taecyeon was silent, his jaw set. “You hit your head,” he whispered, voice so light Junho took a step closer to him so he wouldn’t miss his next words. That was not the sole reason, though. “It took you days to recover... My arm was fixed with Skele-Gro, but for some reason it didn’t...” He trailed off, frowned, and Junho knew, he had a certainty deep in his gut that made him touch Taecyeon’s left arm and then hold it when it looked like Taecyeon might try to move away. 

“I gave you a scar,” Junho said, but he might have given him more than one.

“Why didn’t you talk about this before?” Taecyeon asked, after what felt like an eternity.

“Why didn’t you?” Junho echoed, but there was no accusation in his voice. 

“Do you remember what we were doing before you fell off your broom?”

Junho swallowed. “I... I think I do.”

Taecyeon snorted. Then he leaned in, and Junho wanted to do it even before the other asked. “Show me.”


~*~


“Ta-da!” Jay exhibited the flask of what looked like perfume but glowed from orange to crimson and then purple before becoming fuchsia, its permanent color. 

“So... what does it do?” Junho had to ask, no matter how many frustrated sighs that got him. 

Chansung put an arm around his shoulders. “Do you remember last Christmas?”

Junho looked at Wooyoung, who crossed his arms against his chest, fighting the flush that still crept up his cheeks. “Yeah, what about it?”

“Jay used Polyjuice Potion to pass as our Prefect so he could get into the Hufflepuff dorms without getting caught, but...” Chansung laughed at the memory, and Jay joined him. “After we drank all that Firewhiskey, things got out of hand, and of course, people reporting that Minjun did things he could not remember eventually led him to discover what had happened.”

“Minjun...” Junho was surprised at finally hearing something about him, his interest piquing. “The Hufflepuff Prefect?”

Chansung nodded. “He managed to give Jay a week of detention right after we came back from Christmas Holidays, so Jay spent that time coming up with something to get back at him.”

“Isn’t... his birthday coming up?” Junho asked, dreading the answer.

“This week. And this will be his present.” Jay put the vial of the Potion they had prepared in Junho’s hands, and the colors shone and changed until becoming that glaring shade of pink again. “A very special kind of hair dye.”

“Merlin...” Junho mumbled, and Jay winked.


~*~


“Mr. Potter.” McGonagall nodded at Junho when he entered her office, looking as if she had been waiting for him. “How can I help you?”

Junho felt small under her bespectacled, scrutinizing gaze. There was no reason for him to drag this any longer, though part of him already regretted that he would need to bring this adventure to a close, in case this worked. “I’d like to see the Pensieve, Ma’am.”

She looked faintly pleased at the politeness in his words and voice, if not a little surprised, but her features soon returned to their habitual sternness. She led him past the walls covered with books, and they paused in front of a narrow, tall cabinet made of crystal and gold, full of glassy tubes. Junho recognized that as the Memory Cabinet, only because the scenes with the Pensieve were among his favorites. 

“Shouldn’t I... focus on the memory I want and take it out myself?”

McGonagall stared at him. “You did that already, years ago.” She paused, looking at the cabinet. “They’re here, waiting for you. That’s why you can’t remember.”

Junho’s lips parted, but he didn’t know what to say. He shut his mouth and swallowed, thinking. “There’s more than one memory?”

“There are two. You wanted to take more, but you can’t get rid of all the memories of a person, unless that person Obliviates you.”

Junho nodded. Like Hermione had to do with her parents, he almost said, but he felt it would be inappropriate. Hermione had done that to protect them, while he was sure the only one he had tried to protect was himself. 

The Headmistress opened the cabinet, took two vials out, locked the cabinet, and then placed the collected memories in Junho’s hands. She squeezed them lightly before letting go. “Go on, boy.”


~*~


Junho’s head was pounding. Opening his eyes proved to be painful, so he closed them, but not too hard, for that also hurt. 

“,” he rolled on his belly and pulled what he hoped was a pillow over his head, but then he found out there was no weight. It was just an empty pillowcase, and he whined and grumbled as he forced himself to sit through the searing ache in his head. “, what the hell--”

He stopped as he saw all the feathers spread on the floor. There were also empty wine and beer bottles, some of them knocked over, beer cans, half gone whiskey glasses, soda, a bucket of melted ice with an upside-down bottle of champagne in it... And many, many ripped pillows, some of them reduced to shreds, one or two with just the beginning of an explosion of feathers coming out. 

Had they finished recording 2PM’s new music video? Was this the morning after their crazy party? Where was everyone? He tried to move his head around and look at the part of the room that he knew continued behind him, but winced as the pain shot through him again. 

“You’re awake!”

His eyes widened and he turned to look at Taecyeon so fast he almost passed out. He wished he had, because maybe then he would wake up back in Harry Potter--

“Oh my god,” he brought his hands to his temples but then covered his eyes, and closed them, and stood very still for a long time as the memories he had seen brought him a new kind of pain. Those were real memories; those were moments he had blocked of his own free will. Maybe the first one not so much, because he had been drunk and Taecyeon had refused to tell him what had taken place until that horrible, horrible night when he suggested yet another game where Junho could find out the truth if he beat Taecyeon. They had never arm-wrestled again after that.

“Oh my god,” he repeated, weakly. He heard Taecyeon coming closer, and Junho let him only because that would make him an easier target for the rage he was feeling. “YOU ING,” Junho pushed him and Taecyeon fell on his , wincing but laughing, and it drove Junho mad. “STUPID,” he continued, kicking at Taecyeon’s legs. “!” He might have kicked that very if Taecyeon hadn’t sat up first.

“Junho, what--”

“HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO ME!” He got up and paced, kicking at everything that stood in his way, glad the place was a mess already so nobody would complain about a few extra glass shards and alcohol stains. The outrage far surpassed the pain from the hangover; he would go so far as to say that it almost numbed him. Great. He didn’t want to feel anything but the fury boiling in his veins. “You could have just told me what it was, but no, you had to have some fun with it! It was just a frigging kiss, you idiot, I don’t even know why I ever wanted to do anything with you, Christ, if I knew--” He shook, and he had to brace himself on the couch, and then he sat down, feathers rising and falling next to him. 

Taecyeon sat on the couch, too, one seat away from Junho, who covered his eyes once more and willed his breath to return to normal. “Took you one crazy night to remember another, huh?”

“ you!”

At least he didn’t laugh, or Junho might have had to hit him again, and this time he would aim where it really hurt. “Those games were fun, though.”

“Oh my-- Are you dumb? I broke your arm. I BROKE YOUR ARM. Do you know how awful I felt? Do you have any idea how terrible it was to look at you, to see that scar, and be reminded all the time that I did that to you?”

Taecyeon was very calm, and that only made Junho angrier, though his eyes burnt and he had to cover his face again. He was furious at himself for realizing he still cared, it still hurt so much, and Taecyeon didn’t deserve any of that, he didn’t have the right to exert such power over Junho’s feelings. “It wasn’t your fault,” Taecyeon said, like he had so many times before, years ago, when Junho kept trying to find a way to make up for something neither of them had ever seen coming. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled, suddenly empty, losing the strength or the will to hold onto his wrath. 

“You must have really wanted to forget it,” Taecyeon said, and Junho refused to look at him, to ask what he meant. “I mean, you were not that drunk when you kissed me all those years ago, but something made you block it. I didn’t know if you really wanted to remember, so that’s why I came up with those-- I’m sorry, Junho, I wouldn’t have proposed that if I knew what was going to happen. But it just did. And after that you never brought it up again. The kiss, I mean. You never asked about it.”

“Why are you so stupid,” he whispered, resigned. “Damn, my head’s gonna explode.” He tried to roll on his side and cover his eyes with his forearm, but that didn’t help at all, and the position was too uncomfortable.

“Here--” Taecyeon extended an arm towards him, and in his hand there was a tablet of painkillers, three of them already gone. “Minjun gave me this. He said you’d probably need it.”

Junho eyed the medicine skeptically, but ended up accepting it. He downed two pills with a glass of water - he sniffed at the bottle and the glass he found before using them - and slumped down on the couch again. They were silent for a long time, but Junho was thankful for that, as it seemed to help him feel better. 

“Did everybody else go home?”

“I’m not sure if they went home,” Taecyeon said, and Junho would have rolled his eyes if it were not for the lingering, despite lessening headache, “but yeah, they’re gone. Jinyoung-nim said he’ll send people to clean everything later.”

Junho nodded absently. He let the silence stretch before speaking again. “I had the weirdest dream.”

Taecyeon looked sideways at him. He was sitting comfortably on the couch, his head resting on it, his lower body sliding down in a way that was likely to give him spine problems if done too often. He didn’t ask, but Junho knew he was waiting for him to speak.

“We were flying,” he said, instead of all the things he could have. “You and I. Doing the craziest, most dangerous things, so high...” He sighed. “It was awesome.” His voice sounded heavy with the memory, and to Junho it still felt real. 

“We could go skydiving one of these days.”

Junho tried not to, but he ended up laughing. “Yeah. I bet you’d try to get out of it at the last minute.”

“And go where? I’d be on the plane with you. I’m sure you’d kick me off first if I got cold feet.”

He nodded. “I would.”

“Well, since our maknae went bungee jumping, we can’t just let him beat our asses like that, right?”

“Tell that to Minjun. He won’t mind keeping his safe even if it means losing to Chansung.”

Taecyeon chuckled softly. Junho noticed the pain was almost gone when the sound didn’t annoy him. In fact, he could almost enjoy the moment, except things shouldn’t be that easy.

“I’m sorry,” Taecyeon said, catching him off guard. “You’re right, I was an . I almost...” He paused, and didn’t speak for a long time. “I don’t regret that first night, you know.”

Junho checked a sigh, shaking his head. “Kinda late for you to say that.”

Taecyeon turned to stare at him. Junho wanted to look away, but decided to bear it. Taecyeon should see what was in his eyes, even if he might not deserve it. “Really?” His voice sounded so small, Junho had to swallow some of his own bitterness, because – he had been waiting for this. He didn’t want to, he had ignored it for the longest time, but there it was. Moreover, Taecyeon’s face was devoid of masks, and Junho saw him – the young boy he had fallen for, the boy that had caught him, and the man that hoped to be able to catch him again, broken arm or not.

Junho stared at him, and made up his mind. “Will you fly with me?”

Taecyeon smiled. “I promise I won’t give up.”

“I’ll kick you so hard if you let me down.”

“You have my permission.”

~*~