Pairing(s); xiuchen

Rating/Notes; PG??? idek dude

 

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"Kim Jongdae.”

Jongdae swivels around in his chair, Professor Longbottom’s sentence drifting away upon the rapping of knuckles on the wooden door. The Chinese chomping cabbage in the professor’s out-stretched hand slowly starts towards Longbottom’s shirt collar.

“Ooooooh,” Chanyeol hisses into his ear, cackling, Jongdae’s eyes landing on Professor McGonagall sweeping into the greenhouse.

“Mind taking a walk with me, Mr Kim?”

Whispers break out amongst the mix of Slytherins and Ravenclaws, but a smile fights its way to Jongdae’s lips, curving them prettily.

“Of course not, Professor.” Jongdae chirps, eyes glimmering as though he knew he wasn’t really going to be told off for staging Kris Wu’s murder. Half-way to the door, with the head mistress already out the door, Jongdae abruptly turns around, swiftly immobilising the chomping cabbage a moment before it attacked Professor Longbottom’s shirt, the professor letting out a faint squeak of surprise.

McGonagall turns around, pursing her lips when Jongdae’s no where to be seen for a minute before he exits the classroom, grinning. She crosses her arms, peering over her tiny gold spectacles. “What were you doing, Kim?”

“Simply saving Professor Longbottom’s shirt, Professor,” Jongdae sweetly smiles.

“Look Jongdae,” McGonagall says upon walking a good distance away from the greenhouse, away from any students listening in on their conversation—Jongdae’s been sent down to the head mistress’ office one too many times. By this point, he probably wouldn’t even get into trouble calling her ‘Minerva’, if he wanted to—moreover, McGonagall was quite well acquainted with Jongdae’s parents too, and liked frequenting Kim Jong Mum’s café. “I never made the limits clear for your little pranks, but I don’t want you overstepping the line this Halloween.”

Jongdae’s lips quirk up, glancing at her. “So I haven’t overstepped this line yet?”

McGonagall sighs. She knows Jongdae. The boy is hard to put a leash on, and even harder to keep the leash on, but she knows she’s earnt a degree of respect amongst all the students, Jongdae included—and that will be the limit to his mischief-making, because despite everything, Jongdae definitely acknowledges her as not just the head mistress, but also a mentor by this point.

“No, as long as you don’t harm others, or inconvenience others,” she ends up saying. “What you did with Wu was, quite frankly, unacceptable behaviour, however. You did not consider the inconvenience and discomfort it caused him.”

“Please, Professor,” Jongdae chuckles. “He wasn’t even up there for that long. It only started a few mere minutes before lunch, which is when he was found, I presume? Ah, I must stop by your office. I need to collect the ‘blood’ I used.”

The professor pauses mid-stride for a moment, frowning at him. “What exactly did you use to create that blood?”

Jongdae grins mysteriously. “Nothing… organic, I promise you.”

McGonagall doesn’t say anything for a good few minutes before she stops her strides for a moment. “Mr Kim there is one thing you must tell me.”

Jongdae raises his brows, stopping beside her, lips curved up.

“How exactly did you make that rope?”

 

---

 

The Ravenclaw boy laughed. Minseok narrowed his eyes, judging him.

He has a weird thing with his laugh—like the corners of his lips curved up in a cat-ish way, and his laugh bubbles right out of his throat. It reminded him a bit of a bird.

But nevertheless, Minseok found nothing majorly wrong with Kim Jongdae—he seemed like any average cheerful, bright Hogwarts boy; on top of that, he’s really nice too. Minseok smiles slightly at the memories of the two of them laughing in the kitchens or of Kris hanging upside down—Jongdae’s fun, Jongdae’s sweet, and Jongdae’s a good person.

He really doesn’t get why Joonmyeon talks about him like that, like he uses the killing curse twice a day or something.

Minseok watches him charm the roasted chicken on the Gryffindor table to tap his brother, Kim Jongin, on the shoulder behind his back.

He really doesn’t seem that bad.

In fact, Minseok finds his antics rather funny. That, and his smile was pretty nice.

In exception to those times when Kim Jongdae gets his tall Slytherin friend in trouble by charming food to fly from Chanyeol’s direction across the Great Hall at dinner, the professors giving Chanyeol detention instead of Jongdae—Minseok really thought he was fine. Just the food wasting was not cool.

Kim Jongdae. Minseok kept his eyes on him from the Hufflepuff table at dinner after a few days following the headless Kris incident, fruitlessly trying to catch a reason as to why Joonmyeon treated him with such disdain—Kim Jongdae usually does fun stuff at dinner.

Minseok couldn’t lie—most of the pranks Jongdae pulls, Minseok finds himself enjoying the show. He preferred watching from a distance instead of being involved. Another point to Jongdae—another reason to why Minseok thinks he’s perfectly fine.

Yes, Minseok thinks, swapping Lee Jinki’s pumpkin juice for…. What is it…. Hiccupping solution or something?

Minseok watched, almost in anticipation, as Kim Jongdae leaned back, face showing an unsuspicious nonchalance after giving his dorm mate the same amount of surprisingly well-disguised hiccupping solution as his juice.

The boy sitting infront of Kim Jongdae, Do Kyungsoo, had eyed him warily after just taking a look at the contents of Jinki’s goblet, and it seems like he’s advised him not to drink it.

Minseok pouts. Kill-joy.

 

Just any ordinary night, with Minseok slinking as usual down the hallway, heading for none other than the kitchens…

And when he subconsciously lets his eyes dance across the ceiling, he sort of does a double take, facial features contorted into an expression of the most pure ‘what the ’.

For some crazy- person had managed to string a hammock between two chandeliers right next to the ceiling and appears to be absent-mindedly, contently, reading.

And even more, hasn’t yet noticed Minseok gaping up at him.

And what is one meant to do when faced with a hammock four metres in the air in the middle of the corridor? Shuffle closer, to take a better look.

And Minseok finally understands where ‘curiosity kills the cat’ comes from—for Kim Jongdae long had levicorpus jinxes set along the floor half a metre radius from directly under his hammock.

He finally takes his eyes off his book as Minseok comes hoisting up eye level to him, voice irritably chirpy for someone suspending another boy by their ankles right under the ceiling with a chandelier dangerously close to their face.

“Oh hey there baozi!”

Minseok gasps with the height, twice the height he was used to and clumsily flails a bit with his robes. Looking down/up at the carpet was just met by crazy spinning, so Minseok tries to at least train his eyes on his captor, not wanting to puke four metres off the ground.

Jongdae simply smirks, eyes trained on him, mechanically putting his book away as if it only served as a passing of boredom and time whilst waiting for him.

Minseok didn’t know that was indeed the truth.

“J-Jongdae?” Minseok pales, horribly reminded of the height he was precariously hanging from with the crazy nausea that feels on a whole degree worse than usual.

“Hey you remembered my name without thinking this time!” Jongdae grinned, looking pretty elated, raising a hand for a high five.

Minseok’s eyes only spell out confusion being impossible to figure out directions upside-down, also with his hands secured around his waist, busying themselves holding his clothes from slipping into his face.

“Maybe not then.” Jongdae drops his hand before moving on, just as airily as ever. “You know, you’d think after multiple times being hung upside-down you’d get used to it but apparently not. I mean, I wouldn’t know since it’s never happened to me but just based off logical assumptions.”

“It’s higher than normal!!” Minseok squeaked. Any higher and he’d be shrieking, but then again, upside-down, it was pretty damn hard controlling your voice, so he thinks he did pretty well. “Why’re you all the way up here anyway?!”

Jongdae shrugs. “I like it up in the air.”

Minseok gapes at him like he deemed him crazy enough to need to be submitted into St Mungos. “Aren’t you gonna get caught by a teacher??”

“Nah, only Filch patrols the corridors and he doesn’t ever check the kitchens for some reason. I think he thinks no students know where the kitchens are.” He stated matter-of-factly.

“Oh.” Minseok realises he’s finally received a belated explanation to his successes for the past 6 years.

The corner of Jongdae’s feline-like lips curve into a rather arrogant smirk. “So did you come because you were hungry or did you just want to see me?”

Minseok gapes at him in disbelief. “I was hungry!!”

Kim Jongdae laughs. “Are you sure?”

“I w-was hungry!!” he could feel the blood teasingly dripping to his head, face reddening… not blushing, not blushing, not blushing—

Jongdae leans out to poke a cheek, enough to exterminate about all thoughts that once lived a happy life in Minseok’s head. “But you’re red~” Minseok never knew he’d live to hear Kim Jongdae whine.

Minseok frowned at first him, then his fingers. “I AM NOT—“

“You look like you want to bite my finger off.” Kim Jongdae, however, only looked amused.

Minseok recoils the best he could hanging off a rope, which isn’t a great deal, but anything to get away from poking. “I don’t like poking.”

“Hmm, then how about…” Jongdae leans out again, this time to bring his finger to his cheek again, but brush it lightly along his face and down his neck in a single line. “…this?”

Minseok just stares at him wide-eyed, completely taken aback and utterly weirded out.

Jongdae smiles, though upside-down it looked a whole lot more evil than it actually was. “I could stare at your reactions all day.”

Minseok just looks even more scandalised.

“Jongdae, it’s midnight. Why do you even have this thing with strolling around the castle at midnight anyway??”

“Exercise—simple. Don’t want to end up like you.”

Minseok’s jaw hangs open.

“I’M NOT FAT!!”

“Well since you’re hungry and I’m bored, want something to eat in return for doing something for me?”

Minseok only dared to blink at him, still upset over being insensitively called fat, not brave enough for this round of dares.

He hated how he wanted to snap at Jongdae for automatically assuming that he was always hungry, but he was therefore correct… because he really was always hungry.

Jongdae seemed to have taken a custard bun from seemingly nowhere and tosses it at him.

Minseok ridiculously crazily flails, robes granted their wish and falling over his head but still managing to catch the food from all those years of Quidditch. (also has a policy of never wasting food) Minseok hurriedly holds his robes in place again, observing the bun from one hand; he only notices Jongdae’s amusement, yet Jongdae subtly eyeing his robes went unnoticed.

“What is this?” Minseok pipes up, holding the bun out, at his own eyelevel.

“A custard bun.”

Minseok dead-panned for a moment. “I know, but why? Why’re you giving this to me?”

Jongdae shrugs. “Because I thought you’d fancy something to eat since I don’t plan on letting you down anytime soon.”

Minseok lets a strangled cry escape his lips. “Whyyyy??!”

And as casual as one can get, Kim Jongdae says, “I like you when you’re upside down. I dunno, there’s this certain charm to it.”

Minseok gapes at him like he couldn’t believe what he was saying. That, and the fact that Jongdae was talking about him as if regarding a painting. ‘it’d look nice if it hung upside down…’

“So you going to eat that or what?”

Minseok focuses his eyes on it, then eats it with immeasurable difficulty.

He misses the mischievous glint of Jongdae’s eyes in his direction.

Minseok takes note of how his hair felt weird, heavier, but reckons its most likely just because of it flopping down because of hanging upside down.

A grin twitches the corners of Jongdae’s mouth, threatening to break out and wash over his face.

It actually felt like he was being pulled by the scalp to the ground, and Minseok clutches his hair in disbelief, but freezes upon realising something WAS indeed growing out of his ing head.

Jongdae just can’t take it anymore. His lips crack into a grin.

Minseok was only staring at him wide-eyed, fingers feeling over the ing sprout that’d popped out of his head.

“’Apple flavoured’ custard bun.” Jongdae states, sounding pretty proud, much to Minseok’s horror.

“W-what…?” Minseok breathes, feeling unbelievably faint.

Jongdae leans over, and points to the growing sprout on the poor boy’s head, where a small apple is now blooming. “Apple flavoured.”

Minseok looks up/down the stalk, and jaw hangs open.

“…….”

Jongdae was contentedly swaying in his hammock, watching the show like it was an amusing comedy play.

“What the … what the ING , Jongdae??!”

“Mu—I mean, I developed them and I needed someone to test it out on.”

Minseok just gaped at him incredulously. “You… You…”

“Uhh, experimental line of prank foods.”

“How do I get this thing off??!”

“I haven’t worked that bit out yet.”

Minseok froze for a few moments. “WHAT??”

Jongdae throws his head back, laughing, letting his voice box stick out even more painfully evidently. He reaches over, and picks off the now ripe apples. “I was kidding, it should fall off by itself in a few hours.”

Minseok whimpers, hands feeling all over the stupid sprout sticking like an odd broom twig out of his head. “It probably looks syupid!!”

“Actually you look kind of cute. But it might be better to stay upside-down until it shrivels. The apples keep growing back every few minutes.” Jongdae takes a bite out of the one he’s just picked.

It was an open invitation for Minseok to start eating them too, for they were beginning to drop down to the floor.

“So how was your day baozi?”

“Good until a mini apple tree decided to grow on my head.” He mumbles miserably.

“Hey an apple tree growing out of your head has its perks. For example,” Jongdae then picks the current ripe apple off. “Nibbles.”

Minseok sighs. “I guess. At least it’s food.” It’s food, and Minseok loves food.

“AND you get it by eating food. The endless joys.”

“Can you let me down now?” Minseok whines. “I’m feeling sick.”

Jongdae considers it for a bit. “It’s a bit boring just letting you down though.”

“….what?”

“Well I did you a favour by giving you ALL those apples, don’t you think you should do something in return?”

“I never asked for it.” Minseok mutters to himself, not expecting to be heard, but never put it past Kim Jongdae.

“But you’re thankful, and that’s what counts.”

“I never said I was!” Minseok protests hotly.

“But imagine what would have happened if I didn’t give it to you!” Jongdae’s dramatic fake voice was hideous. “Why,” he stage-gasped. “you’d be absolutely starving right now!”

Minseok stares at him judgementally, biting back the protest of but you called me fat….

Jongdae cheerily grins back at him. “So, any ideas?”

“What?”

“On repaying the mountainous debt you owe me.”

“What??”

Jongdae flashes him yet another bright grin.

“You know, give a little get a little, an eye for an eye, quid quo pro. Whichever you prefer.”

“……so…..?” Minseok knew he shouldn’t. Like, look where eating Jongdae’s food got him. It actually hits him how much he’s risking whenever he meets Jongdae.

And like that, he realises just how ing scary Jongdae is.

Kim Jongdae is way too dangerous to be normal.

“You do something for me, and then I’ll let you down.”

“What…. Do you want?”

Jongdae shrugs, going with the nonchalant look that’s getting increasingly difficult to pull off. “Surprise me.”

“Oh I don’t know!” Minseok huffs, exasperated. “I’d do your homework, but you’re a Ravenclaw.”

“And that’s boring.”

“Exactly, so I don’t know!”

“Hmmmmm….” Kim Jongdae ponders, with a very wary Kim Minseok eyeing him.

“Try being cute.”

 “…..what?”

“Do aegyo for me, baozi.”

He sighed. It was one thing to be called cute; it was another being made to act cute.

“What do you want?”

But nevertheless, it’s not so bad, is it?

“Whatever you’d reckon would get you down.”

Minseok supresses the urge to roll his eyes and puffs his cheeks out. “Is this enough?”

Jongdae sits stock still for a few moments, desperately pushing down the grin that pulled at his lips. “Mmm, seems a little lacking…”

Minseok bites back a groan and pouts, in that deliberate puppy-eyes way. “Pleeeeaaase, Jongdae?”

If Jongdae thought Minseok’s voice had a natural hint of a whine in it, this was ridiculous.

And really, no one should be able to blame Jongdae for letting a smile slip on his face. “Please what…?”

“Let me down?” Minseok bats his long eyelashes, whining a bit more with a frowny-pout.

Jongdae’s smile stretches even wider, and gently lowers him down.

Despite Minseok’s happy, victorious grinning, he sinks down on the floor once he reaches it.

Jongdae simply waves his wand, the hammock lowering itself in Minseok’s wake.

The boy with the wildly swinging apple tree rolls around on the floor, groaning a bit. “Oooohh, solid ground.”

Jongdae would never admit it—but he finds him adorable, just watching him roll around with the apple sprout swinging on his head. But don’t tell anyone, it’d ruin his prankster image.

So instead, he decides to say, “Careful, you might drop the apple on your head.”

A hand goes up to catch the sprout, and consequently pluck off the very much ripened apple with ease. “Do you want it?”

“Nah you have it.”

“I feel sick though.” Minseok pouted. “I don’t think I should eat until breakfast.”

“You’re welcome.”

Minseok grimaces at him, rolling to sit up, and jerks back, Jongdae having poked him on the cheek as he sat up.

His brows furrow, staring Jongdae down. “Don’t poke me.”

Jongdae really didn’t seem like the listening type, for he pinches both cheeks, pulling. “Woah they’re really soft and stretchy…”

“Mmph—Don’t--!!!!”

Jongdae giggles, bubbles of his laughter erupting form his throat. “Oh my gosh I could do this all day.”

“Don’t….!!! Not the cheeks!!!!”

He squishes his cheeks beneath his palms, making him look a bit like a pufferfish… but infinitely cuter. “Man you’re so cute.”

Minseok belts out a string of muffled shrieks of protest in response.

“Why don’t you like cheeks anyway?” Jongdae asks once he’s finally let him go.

Minseok grimaces, painfully rubbing his reddening cheeks. “Everyone does it.”

“Would you rather be touched somewhere else then?”

Minseok stops, and takes his time to simply blink at Jongdae. “….what?”

A cheeky grin curves itself upon Jongdae’s thin lips. “You know, not your cheeks.”

Minseok really wants the multitude of dirty images/thoughts to stop invading his brain—Jongdae is one ed up person. “I…don’t mind other places too much…”

To say Minseok regretted it was rather an understatement when Kim Jongdae leans in, hand hovering just barely above his inner thigh. “Oh really?”

Minseok squeaks unbelievably loudly and jolts his leg away, ears burning. “KIM JONGDAE!!”

Said boy smirked. “What’s wrong baozi? What are you thinking?”

“DON’T TOUCH ME THERE!”

Jongdae his head to the side just the slightest in undeniably mock confusion. “Touch you where?”

“Inappropriate places.” Minseok mumbles.

Jongdae simply laughs at how innocent he’s being. And just to poke around for his reaction, Jongdae curves his eyebrows up, eyes glinting under the candles lighting the hallway. “You mean your ?”

Minseok’s face could most simply be described as a morph between visible shock and near-combustion, almost repulsive.

Jongdae inches his hand closer to his leg again.

It was swiftly swatted away with a force Minseok’s been building from smacking bludgers with his bats.

Jongdae pauses for a minute, grinning, before promptly pouncing forwards and onto him, tickling him.

Minseok squeaks, and topples over backwards, laughing. “No—no, no stop!!!”

Jongdae laughs along, and continues tickling him, managing to scramble to climb on top of him, gripping Minseok’s waist between his knees in the process.

Meanwhile, Minseok’s intent had fully been focused on stopping Jongdae’s evil hands, thrashing around, much too vulnerable to tickles to notice how Jongdae had moved.

He completely leans over him, grinning playfully, only pausing briefly to let Minseok breathe.

And only then does he realise their position.

Jongdae himself was hovering over him, not yet realising what made Minseok roughly shove him away, wide-eyed, with a loud, scandalised gasp. Poor Jongdae falls back on his uncoordinated and confused.

Minseok, however, was a different story. He stared at him, wide eyed, before getting quickly to his feet.

And the supposed ‘genius’ here was still unaware of the position he had unconsciously gotten them into.

“Uhhm… still don’t want me to touch your cheeks instead?”

“…….not cheeks either. And no thighs. Where’s my wand?” Minseok hurriedly pockets his wand from where it lay a few meters away and turns to leave. “I’m gonna go back…”

Jongdae stands up too, watching as the sprout on his head slowly begins to shed its leaves, and picks off the last apple.

“Okay—have fun with your apple head, I’ll always be happy to slip you another if you like.”

The way Jongdae was grinning struck the suspicion so strongly in his heart it had Minseok worried he was really going to ‘slip him another’ without his knowledge.

Minseok eyes him, both warningly and judgementally, before hurriedly walks off.

Jongdae watches him leave—tucking his fingers into his pocket and strolling off himself only after tucking the hammock away into some random loose brick amongst the many gaps in the wall only Kim Jongdae would ever remember.

 

---

 

Jongdae totters around, flicking his wand, all the candles vanishing down the hallway, the corridor leading to the dungeons even more ominously dark without light.

Jongdae whistles, as if he can see perfectly well infront of him—no one knows, maybe he can. Or maybe he’s memorised the entire school absolutely perfectly, because he even knows to step over a small uneven brick on the floor that many students forget about even if there was light.

With the entire hallway, Jongdae begins casting his spells.

McGonagall was, naturally, curious how he managed to half-vanish something without the Weasley’s Headless Hat, or without using Demiguise fur, which is used for invisibility cloaks—the creatures are increasingly endangered, with more and more people seeking them for the invisibility powers of their coats. So the fact that Jongdae managed to create a spell for it was what the professors were confused about.

This spell, now, comes in perfectly handy.

Two statues comes floating after him, Jongdae placing one near the middle of the corridor, and another at the edge, and somehow he could see in the dark well enough to be able to cast the spells on one of the two statues—one of a sleeping dragon with its lips pulled back to show off it’s rows of pointed teeth, and the other is a large carcass of some sort, Jongdae placing a few stray bones around it and further down the corridor for people to trip over.

Jongdae pets the sleeping dragon statue on the nose fondly. It took him surprisingly little time to craft it, because he wanted to make the bones perfect even though no one’s going to actually see it in the dark, but he was very well and truly happy with it. They were both large, very, very large, life-size to be quite honest, and very real-looking, and even more real-feeling.

Jongdae reaches into the inside pocket of his blue robes, pulling out a little glass bottle.

This is the one time you’ll see him fumble in the entire process, clumsily trying to uncap it and find the nozzle of the spray, before semi-accurately aiming it towards the carcass.

An absolutely foul smell springs into the air, smelling perfectly of rotting meat, mixed in with dung; Jongdae quickly caps the little perfume bottle after practically spraying all its contents, tucking it back into his pocket, and pulls out a little pebble from the same pocket. A quick few words muttered, and the stone dissolves into a horde of flies, buzzing into the air.

Now, with the spells on, Jongdae casts the spell on himself, and walks as casually as one possibly could, back out of the Potions corridor, completely invisible.

He has an invisibility cloak—an ‘entering-school’ gift from his dear parents—but this is more convenient. It works pretty much the same way, people can still feel him, but he doesn’t have to worry about being exposed if his cloak slips off his shoulders.

He stands in the shadows of the corridor that turns into the Potions corridor, and waits.

 

The chattering of fourth years echo up the staircase, yellow and green mixing together hideously.

Good, no Kim Jong Two or Kim Jong Three to ruin his fun and turn him in.

However, he does see pretty little Sehunnie… Chanyeol’s crush… with Hufflepuff Zitao walking next to him, the pair engaging in a very heated discussion about Quidditch.

“Did you see what move Sooyoung did during last match with us?” Zitao was saying to Sehun, who frowns contemplatively. “I didn’t see it, but Minseok hyung was involved, and I think Ravenclaw’s pulling some weird —AH HOLY !”

The rest of the class turn to stare at Zitao, who had leapt back, collided into Sehun, both of them stumbling back into a bunch of other Slytherins who huff at them. Zitao’s clutching his arm, eyes wide and popping off his face, face gone pale in terror.

“Zitao? What happened?” Sehun was saying, holding him by the shoulders in genuine concern, brows furrowed, peering at where Zitao’s holding his arm.

“Something grabbed me!!”

“What?” Sehun glances around, frowning. “Nothing’s there?”

Zitao shudders, glancing around with wide eyes. “I felt fingers grab me though…”

Sehun smiles reassuringly, grip around Zitao’s shoulders tightening. “I’m sure you imagined it, you’re too paranoid for your own good,” he chuckles. “Come on, Professor McMillan’s gonna kill us if we’re late.”

They turn into the Potions corridor before halting, just like everyone else, at the mouth of the hallway.

They watch as a Slytherin, grumbling, takes out his wand to light the candles, to no avail—the candles were all removed, and yet still, the darkness felt… unnatural.

The joint class moves forward collectively, yet the further down the corridor they go, the more the pale hairs on Sehun’s arm stand rigidly upright. Where even is the classroom? Where’s Professor McMillan?? Wh—

Sehun stumbles, saved from landing splat on his face if it wasn’t for Zitao’s terrified hold on his arm. He quietly curses the one brick that juts out under his breath—Chanyeol hyung’s told him stories about tripping over that little brick one too many times—but then Sehun hears the swearing of another Hufflepuff a few steps ahead, and the stumbling of footsteps, and something rolling against the stone floor.

Suddenly something buzzes, really close to Sehun’s ear. He flinches away, and only then does he register the background noise of a droning buzzing coming from all around them.

“Why’re there so many flies??” Sehun hisses, feeling Zitao’s movements as he swats them away too.

Sehun takes another step forwards, and the tip of his boots clank against something cylindrical. Sehun pulls out his wand, muttering a quiet ‘lumos’, but to no avail with this ominously pressing blackness. So he does the only thing he can think of—bend down and feel around it.

His long fingers close around it, and come away sticky. The ends are curved, and the sudden stink hits him hard.

Bones.

Sehun drops the bone so quickly he can feel Zitao jump next to him, and can hear the startled movements of his classmates as it clatters loudly when it hits the stone floor—but then Sehun loses his balance, tips forwards, and his hands land on something very, very scaly.

He can feel each individual dry scale under his fingertips, and his trembling hands move downwards a little, and feel smooth, very very sharp claws…

Sehun screams, startling every body else, leaping away so quickly he stumbles over his long emerald robes and landing on his , before scrambling up and grabbing at air to find Zitao.

“DRAGON!”

 

 

 

“Now, this is just getting ridiculous,” Professor McGonagall was huffing, striding up to the class huddled at the entrance of the hallway. “There can not be a dragon in Hogwarts.”

“It was there, Sehunnie felt it’s claws!” Zitao was wailing, tears down his face.

“Nonsense,” the professor snaps, with her lips pursed and peering down her nose into the darkness. Turns out Professor McMillan was called into creating wolfsbane potions for the ministry with an unexpected werewolf attack.

“Lumos,” she says determinately, only for the light at the end of her wand to flicker and fade, like the flame of a candle dying out. She huffs, and casts her patronus, the leaping feline form lighting up the corridor—and something huge and gleaming white shone for a moment under the brief lighting, but it was enough to catch the professor’s eyes, who marches into the darkness after her cat.

Sehun is sure it’s imagined this time when a Slytherin girl jumps a foot into the air, screaming about a hand on her neck. But then comes Professor McGonagall’s gasp, and everyone turns to look.

They catch sight of the huge, gleaming carcass of a giant animal, bones littered everywhere, and spot McGonagall still swatting flies, but no dragon in sight.

Until the head mistress takes a step, and bumps into something very solid, and very invisible.

 

---

 

“Felicia please,” Jongdae begs.

Felicia hisses shrilly at him, warning him to come any closer with her sharp beak and narrowed eyes.

Jongdae pouts. Everyone else had nice, reasonably loveable pets. Minseok told him about his cute female snowy named Halophyle, and she loves him so much she brings him mice, and even though Minseok complained, Jongdae would give anything to swap owls, even just for a day. Minseok told him about Joonmyeon’s female barn owl Duffy as well, since their owls are best friends too, and Jongdae’s pout deepens, watching his own devil of an owl glare at him through the bars of her cage.

Even Kyungsoo’s Hoot, a male Canadian long-eared owl, is surprisingly sweet despite his owner’s nasty attitude towards everything.

Why did he have to get the brutally bad-tempered, most dangerous owl ever known to wizards and witches? The amount of times Felicia has attacked him just from trying to tie a letter on her leg is horrendous.

“Look, I know Chen’s a better name, but you can’t ing blame me for that,” Jongdae whinges, inwardly cursing his mum to eat one of her own prank foods. “Why do you hate me,” he cries, prodding a scrap of roast beef towards her. “Please???”

Felicia eyes him. Then eyes the meat. Then him.

Then she lunges, and Jongdae shrieks, barely avoiding getting his entire hand sliced off.

“OW MOTHERING SON OF A YOU PIECE OF ,” Jongdae bellows.

Jongdae grasps his wrist, desperately trying to heal himself with the limited first aid spells he remembers with his left hand, his right hand spurting blood at a seemingly unhealthy rate.

“Episkey, episkey,” Jongdae hisses, but the blood flow didn’t look like it’d be stopping anytime soon. “—Vulnera Sanentur???? you Felicia,” Jongdae whimpers, glaring at his owl, feeling the skin start to grow back a little. “….Does this mean you’ll help me?”

 

 

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A/N: Is this long? I tried to make it short, and have more events packed into the chapter, cos I have many more ideas for Jongdae's halloween adventures, but I feel like this got too long so I ended it there. But it'll pick up with the next part lol sorry Halloween is dragging out so long ;___;

anyway. there's more coming. Soon. maybe tomorrow, who knows. I hope you liked this and sorry it's so random? idk this idea seemed so perfect to me when i thought of it but now I look back at it and it seems so meh

anyway. more to come, the closer we get to halloween :3 please leave feedback, esp if you've got any ideas for me! Who do you want to see more of? what do you think about jongdae hahah, talk to us about anything <3

~bunny