Jonghyun was in a place he had not been in before.

That statement sounds strange and probably not that surprising, as people move around all the time. However, he was in a place that he had not been in merely seconds ago and he was not entirely sure how that had happened.

Jonghyun had been lounging around in his apartment all morning. He had woken up late, meandered around a little, prepared some breakfast (depressingly healthy as he had a TV schedule the following day and so had to look his best) and had basically done nothing productive at all. He had gone to bed the previous night with intentions to wake up early and get some composing done on a new piece he was working on, but that had not happened.

Honestly, he did not mind it all that much. He had had a busy few weeks, so a morning to himself was a nice change of pace.

What was not a nice change was suddenly being in a place that he did not recognise and not knowing how he had gotten there.

Ok, so he did know how, in theory. However, that did not mean he understood it . The large vortex that had suddenly appeared out of thin air, swirling and sparkling in rainbow colours - which he would have called beautiful if they had not been utterly terrifying - was likely the cause of his displacement. The fact that he had felt himself be physically moved upon contact with the colours, his body squeezing through what felt like a small tube, stretching and warping in ways that should not be humanely possible, was also a good sign that said vortex was the cause of this. Finally, the fact that three people, teenagers, were currently staring at him, speaking in English, he was pretty sure it was English, and gesticulating wildly, was yet another sign.

Jonghyun’s mind processed all this information subconsciously, as the event had happened so quickly and he was freaking out so thoroughly that his conscious mind was not capable of focusing on anything at all.

Later, after this mess was sorted out, he could analyse this information, but for now, he was not calm. Not calm at all.

Staring blankly at the room around him, Jonghyun was unable to ascertain many details about it bar that it was tiny and that the three figures were currently deep in discussion about him – as indicated by their frantic words and the fingers still being pointed in his direction. He processed this as an animal would, categorising dangers and determining the best escape route; there was a single door, located behind the three figures. He was not tall enough or strong enough to get past all three of them at once, despite them appearing younger than him and not visibly physically fit.

There was no way out. He was trapped. He didn’t know how he had gotten here and now he couldn’t leave.

Shaking his head to clear the strange static that had overtaken it, Jonghyun tried to focus. He soon regretted his actions as the movement resulted in a sharp pain spearing behind his eyes and his efforts to clear his head only made his thoughts more frantic and therefore more painful. Wincing, he clutched his head, waiting for the pain to fade, unaware that his movement had drawn the attention of the three people in the room.

When the pain cleared, he looked up and yelped in shock. Scrambling backwards, using his hands and feet to push himself across the floor, he cried out again as his back impacted with something hard and cold. His left hand was planted directly in a suspicious wet patch and something strange-shaped was digging into his hip, but he did not care. He had to get away. He couldn’t be here. She was looking at him. Her eyes were so big and pale. They were looking at him.

In front of him, the girl who had crouched down also let out a cry of shock at his sudden movements. In crouching down, she had brought her face close to his, uncomfortably so, due to the cramped confines of the room, and he had not realised she was there. Opening your eyes to the looming face of a foreign girl was sure to startle anyone and Jonghyun had already been in an incredibly tense state to begin with.

The girl spoke, saying something in English. Her tone was non-aggressive but Jonghyun didn’t recognise a single word she said. His English was bad at the best of times and right now, it was basically non-existent. The singer just stared blankly ahead, not moving, not blinking, barely breathing. He hoped that if he ignored this, it would fade away. He would wake up and this strange situation would not be happening. He was just in his bed, or on his sofa. He had fallen asleep and this was an incredibly vivid dream. He would go to his TV show taping tomorrow and speak of his strange dream. How foreigners were staring at him. How he was in a strange place. How they were staring at him. Why wouldn’t they stop staring?

The girl looked concerned at his lack of reply and turned to say something to the other two in the room, two males. The taller male said something dismissively and looked ready to turn away and leave but was smacked on the back of the head by the other, who looked just as concerned as the female. Jonghyun flinched back at the violent act. His rational mind may have taken it as the friendly admonishment that it really was, but in his current state, all he saw was violence. Pain. Things to hurt and harm and cause suffering. He breathed shallowly, his breaths quick and laboured. He hadn’t blinked in over a minute, not wanting to look away. Just in case.

The shorter male also crouched down, the movement startling Jonghyun and causing him to try to back up further. It took a little scrambling but he managed to find a space to the side of the cold material behind him. Wedging himself into the small space between the hard thing and the wall, Jonghyun tried to shrink down even smaller. It felt comforting, to have a hard, protective surface on either side, protecting him, at least minimally.

The girl spoke again, her tone soft and clearly aiming to be soothing. Jonghyun shook his head, still not understanding her words.

The three people turned to have a discussion then, looking serious and worried. Glances were often shot in Jonghyun’s direction as he tried his best to become invisible in the corner. If he could shrink down small enough, maybe they would forget that he was here. Maybe they would leave him alone.

At length, they appeared to come to some sort of accord and the tallest boy vanished out the room to somewhere unknown. The door made a slight creak as it opened and closed and strange wet banging sounds started from somewhere to his left. The room they were in seemed to be in another, larger room. There was still no way to escape. No way out. He was trapped.

Jonghyun looked up at the remaining two in confusion and fear. The girl was speaking again, her words washing over him like gibberish. Oh! He recognised that one. But it was useless to him with no context. His mind was too frazzled to focus. If he was in a comfortable situation he may have been able to work out her meaning from that single word. He knew it. He did. But right now, it was nothing more than useless sounds.

The remaining boy seemed to realise before the girl that her words weren’t getting through to the singer. He gestured the girl to back away, an action she did reluctantly, and moved forward himself. They were both still very close. The room was very small and they could barely move around each other. He spoke softly, words that were clearly not meant to be understood but were spoken merely to show his lack of bad intentions, and raised his hands in peace. Jonghyun acknowledged his movements and efforts and inclined his head slightly, hoping the man got the message. He was unwilling to fully look away from the two, even through a shallow bow, who knew what they would do, but he was not going to alienate them either. The man, boy, clearly wanted to gain his trust. Jonghyun wasn’t sure he was willing to give it.

The man spoke again. A question this time, his intonation raising at the end of his statement. Jonghyun didn’t understand.

The man repeated the same words slower, pointing to himself and saying different words.

Jonghyun cocked his head. He tried to push himself further back. The girl seemed a little frustrated that his words weren’t being understood. He didn’t want to make her angry.

Ah! A name. He knew that word, now he understood the context of the question. Name. That was the English word the girl had said before. The one he recognised.

The man pointed to himself again, repeating what he had said before. His name? It must be. Harry.

Jonghyun inclined his head a little once more, still not looking away. The man smiled. Pointing at his female companion he said another word. Another name? Longer this time. Something Jonghyun wasn’t sure he could pronounce.

Seeing his confusion, the girl pointed to herself and said a name, similar to before, but shorter this time. A nickname perhaps. He couldn’t say this one either, but he could remember it, probably. ‘Mione.

Jonghyun considered doing the same thing, saying his name. Then the other male came back, clattering loudly through the door, a small bag in his hands. Jonghyun flinched back once more, flattening himself against the wall as best he could. ‘Mione sighed as he did so, looking concerned.

As the two teens had introduced themselves, the scared man had come a little out of his corner, moving forward ever so slightly. Now he was right back to hiding. The third male’s boisterous entrance ruining all progress.

She turned to the returning male and said something. The man shrugged, pulling the door of the small room closed behind him and taking an object out of the bag. Jonghyun audibly yelped as he tossed it to the woman, who caught it deftly.

Pointing to the newcomer, the male, Harry, spoke one syllable. Another name? The returning man nodded, pointing to himself and saying the same. Yes, a name. Ron.

Harry, ‘Mione, Ron. Names. Their names. They were clearly foreign. English. Of course, since that was the language they were speaking. Or American maybe? Australian?

Ron turned to the male and asked something, clearly about Jonghyun. Harry nodded and said something in return.

Both men stopped talking when Jonghyun let out another yelp of fear. ‘Mione had approached and once again he hadn’t noticed, too distracted by the two males. She was crouched right in front of him now, blocking his escape further. Probably not intentionally. But maybe. Maybe they were only playing nice. Lulling him into a false sense of security. That was a thing that happened. Stockholm Syndrome started like that… maybe. Jonghyun didn’t know. He never really studied those things. Music was all he knew. Music and how to present himself on TV.

She, ‘Mione, held out the bottle, indicating he should drink from it.

Jonghyun breathed harshly and rapidly, shaking his head frantically and trying to back up once more. This was how it started. He’d drink. He’d get dizzy. Some sort of date drug would course through his system. He would lose his inhibitions. His memory. He would wake up dead in a ditch. Or he wouldn’t wake up, because he was dead. He was going to die.

He shook his head frantically, looking desperately for a way out. The wall above him did not reach the ceiling. Maybe he could jump and scramble over. Make a break for it. He could run out into the larger room around their room, into the building. The building of unknown size. The building in an unknown location. He would never make it out. He couldn’t possibly make it over the wall before the three teens in the room stopped him, grabbed his feet and pulled him back. It would make it worse, they would just kill him sooner. He would be too much trouble if he fought. Should he just drink? Do what they wanted, go along with it? Would they be forgiving if he did? Would they not kill him?

The girl sighed in understanding and unstoppered the bottle, taking a drink herself, making it clear to the singer that she was actually drinking the clear liquid. She seemed to enjoy it, too. Her expression cleared a little and she let out a little sigh of enjoyment. Maybe it tasted good. Maybe she was pretending. Making him feel safe. But if she could drink so much, maybe he would be ok. They wouldn’t hurt one of their own deliberately, just to trick him, would they?

Jonghyun continued to shake his head, beginning to feel a little dizzy and disoriented. The girl smiled gently, offering the bottle once more. He was thirsty. A sip couldn’t be too bad, could it? The girl had drunk far more. His mouth was parched. He hadn’t realised before but his tongue was like sandpaper, rough and coarse, and swallowing was almost painful. He could just wet his mouth? Surely.

Reaching out with shaking hands, Jonghyun grasped the vessel. He had to use his left hand to stabilise as his right was too unsteady to hold the bottle alone. Bringing it to his face, he sniffed it gingerly, as if he could tell what it was from scent. He looked up with wide eyes as all he smelled was something sweet, like honey or caramel. It smelled like those drinks the fried chicken shop used to provide with his order, something honey flavoured and carbonated. He and Onew used to order the sinful treat whenever dance practice was particularly brutal. They weren’t meant to but they did it anyway. Diets be damned. It was their little secret. He would kill to be doing that right now, eating chicken with his friends. Kill… bad choice of words.

Kill.

The three foreigners were all watching him, smiling gently and encouragingly. Jonghyun drank, allowing the cool liquid to slow over his sandpaper-like tongue. He took only a sip, enough to coat his mouth but barely enough to swallow anything. The girl encouraged him to take a little more, her intentions clear even if her words were not.

Jonghyun shook his head, not trusting her. She sighed and took the bottle from him, taking another long drink herself. Jonghyun observed as the liquid level in the vessel dropped from three quarters full to just over half. She smiled once more, offering the bottle back to him, her movements relaxed and calming.

The singer took it carefully once more and sniffed it again. The scent remained unchanged. Raising it to his lips he took one more mouthful, enough for one swallow and enough to soothe his dry and scratchy throat.

The second he swallowed he felt a wave of calm and serenity wash over him. The feeling was unexpected and terrifying, but he was just too relaxed to react. The bottle in his hand almost fell, the effort of holding it no longer seeming worth it in his mind. The girl, apparently expecting his strong reaction, grabbed it before it could. Her hand brushed his as she did so and he marvelled at how soft her skin felt. She must moisturise. It was a nice feeling.

Looking up at her, he blinked owlishly, his mind somehow both more and less focussed than it had been before. Previously his thoughts had been a mad rush, jumbled and tumbling over each other, none coming to the fore and all twisting together. Nothing was clear because no thought was fully conceptualised, a new thought formed before the previous could be completed. They rushed through his mind like a waterfall, violent and emotional and terrifying.

Now. Now his thoughts were like a gentle stream. They came one by one, slow and calm. What had seemed scary before now seemed like nothing at all. There was no need to worry, everything was peaceful. He may not be in a place he recognised, but that was ok. He was fine. Nothing was hurting him and he had no reason to fret.

The male, the one who had not left and come back to the small room, Harry, spoke once more. He pointed to each member of the trio in turn and repeated the same names he had said before, Harry, ‘Mione, Ron. Jonghyun would have told him that he understood that already, that he already knew, but it felt unnecessary to do so. He just looked at them, saying nothing, unmoving. Reacting seemed like too much effort.

One thing did seem necessary however. Pointing to himself, the singer said his own name. He vaguely enjoyed the look of confusion that crossed the foreigners’ faces at the foreign syllables, they clearly could not identify its origin. The tall male, Ron, tried to say it, quietly under his breath. He mangled it. The sounds were all wrong. The vowels too anglicised. The consonants too prominent. Jonghyun just watched, observing.

In fact, now that his thoughts were calm, Jonghyun could understand a little more of the English they were speaking. Not much. His English skill did not suddenly improve with this strange, completely not worrying, calm feeling. But he knew a little.

The girl was muttering to herself, listing countries. Perhaps trying to identify where he was from?

Jonghyun waved slowly to get her attention. When she looked up he pointed to himself once more and said as clear as possible “Korea.”

He knew that word. Both from school and from SHINee’s many tours. It was in the very genre of music that his life revolved around. Korea. Kpop.

The girl repeated the word once. Then twice. Sounding more excited the second time. She then reached into the pocket of her dress; the boys were wearing the same thing but who was Jonghyun to comment on the fashion choices of foreigners. They were ugly pieces, in his opinion. Though he was sure it was something that Kibum would consider chic. Maybe with the addition of some accessories and some combat boots, the look could be modernised. Made cool.

The singer cocked his head to one side, observing as the girl, as ‘Mione, pulled out a long stick of wood. It was smooth and polished, clearly hand crafted and possessing an ornate looking handle. But it was still a stick.

She pointed the stick at herself, looking serious, and muttered some words. She then repeated the process with her two companions. The bright light that left the tip of it should have been concerning. The fact that the people who were hit with it didn’t seem to react in any way seemed odd to him. However, Jonghyun was just curious, not scared. It was strange, unusual. It was a stick. How did it do that? He did not understand.

When she turned the stick towards Jonghyun, the singer was vaguely aware that he should be worried or at least a little concerned, but he felt none of that. Even when a beam of pale blue light flew from the tip, he didn’t feel anything but calm. The sensation of the light hitting him was a little strange. It was hot and cold all at once, the feeling tingling through to his extremities in a vaguely pleasing way. Then it faded and he felt no different to before.

“Jonghyun.” The girl said, as if testing out the name. The singer nodded at her efforts, the pronunciation was close enough to be acceptable and he knew foreigners often had issues with his name. SHINee’s many trips abroad proved that. “Do you want to stand up?”

That was strange, the girl seemed to have learned Korean very fast. Her pronunciation was very good and her accents placed her as having learned the language around the Seoul area. However, why had she not used the language before? She did not know where he was from, maybe that was why.

Jonghyun nodded in response to her question, the floor was getting uncomfortable and his legs were starting to cramp. Honestly, he wasn’t sure why he was still down here. This wasn’t a normal position to be in. However, standing up did seem like a lot of effort and why should be bother wasting that energy when it was perfectly acceptable to remain down here on the floor?

“Yeah mate,” the taller boy said, Ron. He too spoke very good Korean. It was unusual for foreigners to speak the language in any form, especially to this level. He wondered where they had learned it, “You’re kinda shoved up next to a toilet.”

Jonghyun looked to his right and yes, the boy was correct, he was indeed crammed between the wall of a toilet cubicle and the porcelain object itself. It explained why his right side was so cold and why the wall did not seem to reach the ceiling.

Jonghyun pushed himself to a couching position, before fluidly pulling himself to his feet with the aid of the shorter boy’s outstretched hand. He idly noticed that he was a little taller than Harry, though the red headed one had a good few inches on him. Looking around, he noticed the closed toilet lid and took a seat. Why stand when you could sit?

“Thank you.” He said, noticing that he was not speaking in Korean as he had expected to. That was unusual. Despite having the ability to say the simple phrase in English - it was a common enough loan word in Korea, even his mother knew that one – he had not actually made the conscious decision to use it. Very strange.

“Let’s get out of this small space,” ‘Mione said, gesturing for the four to leave the cubicle. It was a large cubicle, to fit all four of them and the toilet, but it was not the most comfortable of spaces.

The four did as suggested and they entered into a large room. A public bathroom of some sort, with many stalls to the left of the main entrance and a large ornate section of taps and sinks on the opposite side. There was a wailing sound coming from the pipes, and a steady drip drip drip sound as they leaked, forming large puddles on the floor. The three teenagers didn't look worried about the sound so Jonghyun decided it was safe to ignore it for the time being.

Jonghyun cocked his head in interest as the girl shot another beam of light out of her wand, yellow this time, and turned a couple of sheets of fancy looking paper she had found in her satchel – which she had left outside the bathroom stall - into a set of four chairs. That was new. He had never seen something like that before.

“We should sit.” She said, “We have some things to talk about.”

The Korean was once again perfect but Jonghyun found himself thinking. This girl had created chairs from paper. She had also done something to him that made his words English – at least that was his working theory. So, perhaps she had made her own words Korean. It would make sense… as much sense as this day was making so far, at least.

Jonghyun nodded and did as she asked, settling down comfortably. The chair was soft, he noticed idly, though the texture of the fabric was a little coarse.

“Do you want some more?” Harry asked, offering Jonghyun a new bottle of liquid. He spoke Korean as well? Interesting. Maybe he was right about that light.

The bottle looked much the same as before, but the singer was not that trusting, even if he did feel very relaxed.

“You first.”

“Of course,” Harry agreed easily, taking a swig. The level of liquid in the bottle dropped markedly and the boy smiled gently as he lowered the glass vessel from his lips.

Jonghyun nodded and accepted the bottle once more. Placing it to his mouth, he took a longer drink than before, this time expecting the strange reaction he had to the liquid. Whatever it was, it wasn’t a bad feeling. In fact, he would even say he enjoyed it.

He let his hand fall to his side, the bottle now empty and he looked at the assembled group in askance.

“That stuff is powerful on muggles.” The redhead commented, the statement clearly meant for his friends and not Jonghyun. Jonghyun didn’t understand the final word and chose to ignore it. The others seemed to understand, however.

“Calming draughts are mellowed by our magic, so they aren’t as effective on wizards.” The girl replied idly. She crossed one leg over the other, adjusting her skirt neatly.

Magic. Well that made a strange amount of sense. The English-Korean thing, the chairs, how he got here. Magic.

“So you’re magicians?” Jonghyun inquired, smiling serenely.

“Wizards.” Harry commented.

“Witch.” Chimed in 'Mione.

“Magicians.” Repeated Jonghyun slowly. Not because he didn’t hear them or didn’t believe them. Speaking faster just seemed unnecessary.

“We need to get you home.” Harry commented.

“First.” Thought Jonghyun aloud, holding up one finger to illustrate his statement. “How did I get here?” The group looked ready to answer but Jonghyun spoke again first, holding up a second finger. He was now holding up two fingers, the index fingers on each hand. “Second. Where is here?” Again the group looked ready to answer but he spoke again. “Third!” Looking at his fingers he idly realised that he didn’t have another index finger. “Third.” He repeated, putting down his left hand and holding up three fingers on his right, “Who are you?”

“Ah,” Harry said, at length. “You being here is my mistake.”

“It’s not entirely your fault, Harry!” ‘Mione protested. “I didn’t coach you properly.”

Harry chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Jonghyun merely cocked his head, waiting for him to elaborate.

“We were trying a summoning ritual.” He started. Jonghyun didn’t know what those were but he could make an educated guess. “To summon an animal.”

Jonghyun wasn’t an animal. Well, he supposed, he probably was. Technically. Humans were mammals and mammals were animals after all. However, as a human, he didn’t like being referred to as such. It just seemed like an insult.

“The spell actually said ‘non-magical being’.” ‘Mione mused. “We just assumed that meant animal. That was our mistake.”

“Yeah,” Ron chimed in loudly. “We got a muggle instead.”

The more he heard that word, the more it seemed like an insult. However, he didn’t know the exact definition and he couldn’t be bothered to ask so he wasn’t certain. He was also too blissed out to bother getting angry right now. It wasn’t worth the effort.

“We are in…” The smaller male, Harry trailed off as if unsure what to say. “You are in our school. We’re in Scotland.”

“Scotland?” Jonghyun asked. His geography wasn’t good. He didn’t really know many places except for the obvious ones, although he was pretty good at naming South East Asian countries. Geography was never covered in great deal at school and he never really payed much attention in class anyway.

“Great Britain.” Harry said, drawing more blank looks from the singer.

“The United Kingdom?” 'Mione questioned. She sounded shocked that he didn’t know this and Jonghyun would have been offended by her judgement if he could bring himself to feel anything but calm feelings.

“Next to England…” Ron said, looking about as confused as Jonghyun likely did.

“Ahh, England.” Jonghyun said, nodding. He understood now. “The UK.”

“Yes,” 'Mione agreed, looking bemused still. “The UK.”

“We’re students.” Harry said, finally answering Jonghyun’s third question. “This is a school for magic.”

Jonghyun made a noise of understanding. “Interesting.”

He leaned back in his chair and looked around the bathroom. It felt a little different now he realised he was in a school for magicians. It didn’t look any different from a normal bathroom in any other school he had been to, however. Ok, so it was a little more fancy and ornate but that could be attributed to them being in the UK. He had heard that England was fancy and he had seen some of Kibum’s pictures from London. Some parts of that city were really old and classy looking. Exactly Kibum’s style.

Also the odd noises from the pipes made more sense when you considered the age of the room. Old buildings had old pipes, after all. Although those wails had sounded distinctly human. However, if the students with him were not worried, then Jonghyun was also not worried.

Can we ask some questions now? We need to get you home.” 'Mione asked.

“How?” Jonghyun questioned, not looking at the students and continuing to study the bathroom. The light fittings were really very interesting. They looked almost like miniature chandeliers. It was ostentatious and completely unnecessary for a school, but he kind of appreciated the aesthetic.

Harry and Ron both looked confused about the question, as if they had not even considered the answer. Considering they hadn’t expected Jonghyun to appear, he supposed they hadn’t. It did however beg the question of what they had planned to do with whatever animal they would have ended up summoning had the ritual worked as they intended.

“Magic might be an option.” ‘Mione answered, rolling her eyes at her clueless friends. “Or the muggle way.”

“The muggle way?”

“Aeroplanes, cars, trains.” 'Mione elaborated at the Korean man’s question.

“Aero-what now?” Ron asked, looking confused.

Harry huffed and answered briefly, “Muggle air transportation. Like an indoors broomstick.”

Ron nodded like he had understood the explanation, but still looked incredibly confused. Jonghyun just ignored the whole side conversation between the two males, focusing instead on the only girl, who had just asked him a series of questions and had pulled out paper and a feather(?) to take notes.

“Full name? Where do you live? Will anyone notice you are gone?”

“Kim Jonghyun.” Jonghyun began before realising that the girl was English. Scottish? English? Names were different here, “Jonghyun Kim. I live in Seoul.”

“The capital of South Korea.” ‘Mione murmured for the benefit of the two boys who looked confused.

“No one will notice until about midnight when I need to be at the radio station.”

“Midnight.” The girl muttered, pulling out her stick once more. Waving it and muttering a word, a glowing set of numbers appeared in the air.

Jonghyun watched in interest. It had been about eleven am when he was whisked away from his apartment and he assumed that approximately an hour had passed since he arrived in this place. That meant that there was roughly an eight hour time difference between Korea and the UK, as the glowing numbers displayed 8:14pm.

The girl muttered another series of words and a new time was displayed in the air. This one said 12:14pm. Korean time.

“That gives us less than twelve hours to get you home.” The girl lamented. “We need to research.”

Ron groaned, flinging an arm over his face dramatically. “Ugh, why?”

Jonghyun found his complaints interesting. It wasn’t like the singer asked to be here. Really, the least the tall boy could do was make a small effort to fix his own mistakes. He just came across as lazy. Jonghyun wasn’t well acquainted with many lazy people. The entertainment industry tended to be full of motivated and driven people. Sure, some couldn’t handle the pressure and some were not the nicest people in the world, but few could be described as lazy.

“Because it is our fault that Jonghyun is here and we have to get him home!” ‘Mione ranted.

Exactly, Jonghyun thought. Fix this.

The next few hours were just the same series of events repeated over and over. ‘Mione would pull out a book or two that she thought looked promising, initially books she had on hand in her bag – which seemed to hold a lot more than the size would indicate it could. She would pass one to Harry and would then keep the rest for herself. Ron was deemed useless for book research and was sent on a trip to the library, many trips actually, to find any more books that looked promising, based off a list that ‘Mione handed him, jotted down off the top of her head.

The only thing that broke up the monotony for Jonghyun, who was not allowed to take part in the research, was occasionally being offered another of those sweet honey drinks. Honestly, the time went by quite quickly in his relaxed and blissful state. He was perfectly content to just sit back, relax and let the others do the work.

At between ten and ten thirty ‘Mione groaned in frustration, running one hand through her hair in annoyance. The girl’s hair had gotten gradually more knotted and voluminous as the time went on. When she was studying she would twirl the end of the strands in her fingers getting it terribly knotted. When a book turned out to be a dud, she would discard it to one side and run both hands through her hair subconsciously, fluffing it out. The result was a tangled nest of curls that stood out a good distance from her scalp. It amused Jonghyun.

“This is useless and it’s almost curfew.” The girl complained. “Ron, will you go and get McGonagall?”

“McGonagall?!” the redhead exclaimed, alarmed. “Won’t we get in trouble?”

McGonagall must be a teacher, Jonghyun mused, freshly relaxed from another of those delightful drinks.

“We didn’t technically do anything wrong. Monumentally stupid, but not wrong. We won’t get expelled.” The girl said, looking embarrassed. She didn’t look happy about having to resort to this, though Jonghyun wasn’t quite sure why.

“Oh, as long as we won’t get expelled.” The redhead complained as he stood up to do as he was asked.

Jonghyun observed, interested but detached, as the remaining two students cleaned up their mess. There were books scattered all across the floor, the chairs and a new table that ‘Mione had conjured at some point in their studies. Jonghyun hadn’t noticed when that happened, he hadn’t been paying attention. However, at one point, when he had tuned back into what the students were doing, they had acquired the piece of furniture.

It didn’t take long for the redhead to return with another person in tow. In the time he had been gone, the room had been cleared and the students were now shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, having abandoned their seats for some reason Jonghyun couldn’t fathom. He was perfectly comfortable in his chair and he had no intention of moving.

The woman was exactly like all those scary school teachers Jonghyun had seen in British school movies. She was tall, thin and severe. Her face seemed to be set into a permanent disapproving expression and her hair was pulled tight into a neat bun. She was also wearing one of those strange dresses, he noticed; though hers was a different design to the other three. Maybe it was a school uniform for teachers and students.

His initial judgement of her being strict seemed to falter a little as she entered the room. She clearly liked these students as she sent them a small smile before her expression returned to being stern.

“What happened here?” The woman demanded, looking straight at Jonghyun, though clearly not addressing him.

Harry began to explain something that Jonghyun didn’t understand. Apparently the three had really simplified their explanation of what they were trying to do with their ritual when explaining it to the singer, and he could see why. Even with the magic spell on him, he could only understand about fifty percent of the words being said.

The woman seemed to understand, however. She also didn’t seem to judge them too much for it as she nodded along. There were a few moments where she looked a little disappointed or disapproving, but she never looked like she was angry at the trio.

“So we need to return you home, Mr…” She faltered, unsure of his name.

“Jonghyun Kim,” ‘Mione supplied.

“Thank you Miss Granger,” that must be ‘Mione’s surname, Jonghyun mused. “We need to return you home Mr. Kim.” The woman continued, looking at the singer. She had a strange look on her face and had done since she entered the room and had seen him. Her gaze kept flicking up to his hair, too. Perhaps it was because she was a school teacher. The singer had never had a school or a teacher that had approved of radical hair colours. Perhaps his candy pink hair was too outlandish for her.

“With magic?” Jonghyun asked, a little vacantly.

“How much potion has he had?” The teacher asked ‘Mione, ignoring Jonghyun once more. Being ignored might have rankled a little on any other day, but today Jonghyun just didn’t care.

“Four… No five vials in the last four hours.” ‘Mione, Miss Granger, answered.

“No more, he will need one for the journey home and we don’t want him to overdose.” The woman ordered. “The effects shouldn’t fully wear off until tomorrow morning anyway.”

The girl nodded in agreement.

“Magic will not get you home, Mr. Kim.” The woman said, focusing on Jonghyun once more. “You will have to go by plane.”

‘Mione gasped, “But he will be noticed missing before he arrives home!”

Jonghyun looked at the teacher to see if she had a response to that. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to deal with the fallout that would occur from him vanishing for a night and missing his radio show, especially as he had a TV show taping the following day.

The woman merely shrugged, making Jonghyun frown very slightly. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t even annoyed. However, he wasn’t happy about the situation as such.

“I’m afraid it is unavoidable. A teacher will have to accompany him home and make sure he is reacclimatised with his environment-“

“Does that mean you’re gonna memory-“ Ron was cut off with a muffled sound of confusion as 'Mione her hand over his mouth. Apparently the girl did not want Jonghyun to be aware of what was to happen to him. Shrugging lightly, he couldn’t bring himself to care, he just wanted to get home.

“I will accompany him. You three, head to your dorms.” The woman ordered, looking properly annoyed. Previously her annoyance had been tinged with fondness, but at the red head’s apparently thoughtless words, she had lost that completely and now she just appeared irritated.

“What? Now?” ‘Mione asked, flinching a little as she realised what she said to a teacher. Apparently this girl was some sort of goodie-two-shoes with people in authority positions.

“Let’s go, Hermione.” Harry said. Hermione? Was that the girl’s full name. That was a mouthful. Jonghyun probably couldn’t say that. Although he supposed that was fair as they could barely say his name. “We can ask what happened tomorrow.”

“Quite right Mr. Potter.” McGonagall agreed. “Now, dorms, all of you. Before I actually decide to take points for your stupidity.”

The trio left with a chorus of “Yes, Professor.” And Jonghyun was left alone with the scary lady.

“Now, Mr. Kim. Let’s head to the airport.” With those words the Professor created a small paper plane from nothing and wrote something quickly using one of those feathers, before sending it on its way. A message perhaps. She also did some magic that placed a perfect Korean passport in her outstretched palm. “This is yours.”

Jonghyun stood up and took the book from the woman’s outstretched hand. Flicking through the pages, he stopped on the identity page and realised that she was right; this was his. He idly wondered how she had gotten it as he followed her out the room and into an equally as ornate and slightly more impressive hallway. After all, no matter how ornate a bathroom was, it was still a bathroom, and a communal one at that.

The whole school looked like the places he saw on TV. The ones they used for old English shows and movies. It looked like a castle not a school.

The two moved rapidly through the corridors, down two flights of stairs and past many, many paintings and statues. Jonghyun was interested to see that the pictures moved. That didn’t seem normal somehow but perhaps it was for this school.

Finally they emerged into the outside world through a pair of the largest doors Jonghyun had seen in his life. They were the height of three people stood on top of each other and as wide as two lying at full stretch. The wood was inches thick and reinforced with steel bars. The handles were two large rings that looked too heavy for the teacher to lift. Which was possibly true as the woman didn’t even try and instead waved her own stick at the doors, causing them to open with a creak.

“Follow me.” She barked, striding ahead and expecting the singer to follow.

He did just that. Why would he not? There was no real reason not to follow her and she said they were going to the airport, so he was going to go home.

They walked for around five minutes along a gravel pathway. Jonghyun quickly realised that his clothing had not changed from when he was longing at home and his house slippers were not well equipped for shielding his feet from the rough stones below. His thin T-shirt and sweat pants were also not ideal for the cold weather. It was winter and his apartment was far warmer than the outside temperature in either Korea or the UK.

The teacher seemed to realise this fact, thankfully and, without warning, she turned and shot a beam of light at the singer. His ratty house clothes were transformed into a warm, but slightly outdated, pair of slacks and a thick shirt. They were not too unfashionable but they were definitely the style that was popular a good five years ago, minimum.

“Ok,” The woman announced, as the two reached a large set of iron gates, “hold my wrists please.”

Jonghyun raised his eyebrows but did as she asked, and was almost sick on the floor – when he could feel it again. The world had vanished in a swirl of colour and he had felt that sensation of being squeezed through a small tube once more. It was truly unpleasant and not something he wished to experience again. His travelling companion seemed unruffled, and the multitude of other people around them seemed unaffected by their arrival.

Magicians.

“Come.” The woman ordered, striding ahead once more. “This is the main transport hub for international wizard travel. It’s underneath Heathrow airport. We need to get into the muggle side.”

Muggle must mean not-magicians. It was the only definition that made sense.

Jonghyun made to walk forward but was stopped by the woman’s arm.

“Drink this first. You might need it.” That said, she held out another vial of the sweet beverage. Jonghyun was a little worried that the amount of sugar that must be in these things was destroying his diet, but he didn’t mind all that much. One day of deviance wouldn’t be too much of an issue.

This drink smelt stronger somehow, the caramel notes were deeper and richer. He looked up at the teacher in askance.

“Double dose.” She said briskly, “Let’s go.”

She didn’t even wait for him to answer before striding off. Jonghyun quickly gulped down the drink and followed at a sedate pace. Walking faster didn’t feel necessary. As long as the woman was still in his sight, he was fine.

McGonagall seemed to realise this, as she turned around and barked, “Walk faster. We have a flight to catch.”

“Did you book?” Jonghyun asked, as he sped up his pace, just a little.

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

Jonghyun nodded. He supposed it was a little stupid. She was a magician. She probably didn’t need to book.

This was proven to be true when, upon approaching the airline desk - the first one the teacher saw displaying Seoul as its destination - the woman serving them just wordlessly handed them their boarding passes after a cursory glance at their passports. The glazed look in her eyes indicated magic, but Jonghyun didn’t notice any magic being performed – not that he knew what to look for as such. ‘Mione had waved her stick and there had been light. But maybe magic didn’t need waves and actions and lights. Maybe older magicians were better at it, ‘Mione was a student after all. Maybe this teacher only needed to think and magic happened.

Jonghyun wished he had magic. How cool would that be?

He mused that thought for a while. He would be a great magician, he decided, as he sat down in his seat. He would work really hard to hone his skills and be the best magician the world had ever seen.

He could picture it. Jonghyun, a great magician. He would be able to create things from nothing – fireworks bursting from his wand and spark surrounding him. He would attend a magic school, animals would flock to him as he spoke their language. He could speak to Roo, he could learn what she liked and disliked past meat and belly scratches and the park. He would turn into a dog, his body changing form as he fall onto all fours and his tongue lolled from his mouth. He would yip in excitement and turn in a tight circle, his own tail whipping him in the face. A little leap would take all four of his feet off the floor as his friends watched with amusement.

They would be magic too, of course. Kibum would never let Jonghyun be magic without being magic himself. That would be ridiculous. Kibum would be a master at changing things into a different form, making them better fit his image of perfection. Onew would be good at the basic stuff, the essentials. He would be able to clean and cook like a pro and he would be understated but technically perfect. Minho and Taemin would be competitive and fiery and destructive. They would be all flashy lights and creating fire because they could.

They would all be incredible.

“Sir,” the flight attendant said, a little sharply, “please buckle your seatbelt.”

Jonghyun hadn’t even realised that he and the teacher had gotten on the plane. He must have zoned out through the whole security check and immigration procedure. Apparently, they had no issues at all going through the process. He presumed magic had been involved in some way. After all, no trip to the airport was ever smooth, no matter how meticulously planned. Also, somehow, the fact that he wasn’t registered as having left Korea, yet here he was flying back, should have been an issue, but it appeared it wasn’t.

Magic was impressive.

And Jonghyun was sleepy.

And then they were landing. The singer woke slowly, groggily looking out the window to dreary Incheon weather. The grey of the airport buildings was only highlighted by the grey of the sky and the grey of the falling rain.

Well this was a depressing scene to arrive back home to.

The singer was startled when an item of clothing was stuffed into his arms. It was a large sweatshirt of some kind, with an oversized hood to cover his face.

“Put it on.” The teacher instructed before standing from her seat as the seatbelt light was turned off.

Jonghyun nodded and did as he was told. He was a little worried now. He was famous, it made getting places difficult at the best of times. The airport was definitely one of the worst places for a celebrity to pass through; fans were always on the lookout. This could be interesting.

Getting off the plane and through immigration to baggage claim – not that they had any baggage – was simple enough. Yet another glazed looking airport staff member was left in their wake, but they made it through unquestioned. Customs was much the same, though magic was not required this time as they had nothing to declare – apparently, the teacher had filled out the customs form with all of Jonghyun’s information. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know how she had gotten that.

The other side of customs was a little more interesting. A group of teenage girls was loitering near one of the arrivals gates, for reasons unknown. They had noticed him immediately and had all pulled out their phones, apparently looking something up and exchanging comments, all punctuated by many glances at the nervous celebrity. However, they soon lost interest when they did not seem to recognise his features.

Jonghyun looked over at the woman with him. She appeared to have her stick up her sleeve and, if he was not mistaken, the tip was aimed directly at him. Weird.

That reminded him. It was now the morning, eight am in fact. He had missed his radio show and the search parties were sure to be out for him. He was sure his manager would not be too worried as of yet, he would not be sending out the police and freaking out, but he would be mad. The manager was not a man who took shirking responsibilities lightly and Jonghyun missing a show was sure to draw negative attention to him, his group and the company; even if a suitable excuse was made.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair under the hood and winced. It was so greasy. Apparently being stolen from his home, taken to the UK, and flying back to Korea was not good for the scalp. It felt revolting, and he was sure his face was just as greasy. He wasn’t even going to consider that further, he didn’t want to know what he looked like.

Shaking his head, he followed after the severe woman, who had continued to stride ahead. She appeared to know where she was going, though he himself had no idea what their destination was. He knew the airport of course, having been here many times, but she wasn’t heading to any of the obvious transport options. Perhaps she was heading to another of those weird underground wizard transport places.

He was right.

This one was a little different. It looked more modern than the British one and was, obviously, full of Koreans, all speaking Korean. He had missed Korean. Even with the magic making him hear and speak English, it still came out a little strange, like there was something off about it. Natural Korean was so much nicer.

He looked around the room. They seemed to be heading to an area labelled Local Transportation – Seoul. There were other labels, such as Regional Transportation, split into various provinces, International Transfer – SE Asia, International – Long Distance and Magical Zones – Korea and International.

Walking into the room, Jonghyun looked around in awe. In the centre was a large three dimensional map of Seoul. It looked like those computer simulations or holograms that showed up in movies, but way more realistic. He could even see little people and cars moving through the streets.

He moved closer, looking at the most obvious landmark, the Lotte World Tower. Peering closely at the tall structure he could see little tiny people clustered on the top floors, staring down at the city below. At the base of the tower, the Lotte World theme park could be seen with hundreds of tiny little people zooming around on tiny little rollercoasters.

He looked up at the teacher and was about to comment but her sharp look told him to shut it. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t a magician. Perhaps it was because the woman was tired and didn’t seem to have slept at all on the journey over. Perhaps she was just mad at this whole situation. Whatever it was that caused her mood, it made him shut his mouth and move away from the map.

The woman huffed and steered him towards a screen. “Where do you live?”

Jonghyun looked up at her and asked for clarification, “Like my address?”

“Of course your address. Say it aloud.”

Jonghyun was confused as to what that would achieve but he complied, saying his address in the Korean style, city first. He followed this with the region of the city he lived in and stuttered as the map appeared to zoom in on the area. Looking around the room, no one but he and McGonagall seemed to notice the change in the map. In fact, they were all apparently doing the same thing he was.

“They can’t see this.” McGonagall commented, sounding impatient. “Continue.”

Jonghyun nodded, and said the name of his street, the apartment building and his floor and room number. The map zoomed in even further until Jonghyun was staring at his front door. He could even see the little black stain near the base of the door where he would kick it open when his arms were full. He stared at it, a little freaked out at the lack of privacy this displayed. People couldn’t see inside could they?

“No one can see in unless you give permission.” The teacher answered his unanswered question.

He turned to look at her, not sure how she had known what he was going to ask. However, he supposed she had been a teacher for a long time, considering her age and demeanour, so she was likely good at predicting what questions people would ask. Students could be dim sometimes; he remembered that from his own school days.

“You need to say ‘inside’.”

Jonghyun wasn’t sure he wanted this woman to see the inside of his apartment. Now he was in Seoul he could probably make his way home perfectly fine on his own. It had been a few years since he had used any form of public transport but he could probably work it out. Probably.

The teacher sighed at his hesitance and pulled out another vial of the drink. “Thirsty?”

“Not really.” Jonghyun answered.

“It’s been a long flight and you slept the whole way. You’re probably dehydrated.”

Jonghyun considered her words. That was a good point. It wasn’t good for him to get dehydrated. His skin tended to suffer and, being an idol, he really needed his skin to look flawless at all times.

Taking the bottle, he unstoppered it – these cork stoppers were really very strange, he hadn’t considered that any other time he had taken a drink from these people, he had been too distracted. However corks on a non-alcoholic beverage – any beverage really, nowadays – was strange. Shrugging, he took a quick swig and swallowed it down.

Immediately, all feelings of concern he had vanished. Handing the partially empty bottle back to the teacher, he turned back to the image of his front door.

“Inside.”

And there was his living room, complete with an antsy looking Roo. He felt McGonagall grab his arm and his body being forced into unnatural tube-like shapes once more and then his puppy was gambolling around his ankles, yipping and jumping. The poor thing hadn’t been for a walk in almost twenty four hours. She was right to be excited. He was just happy he had set up the laundry room as a place for her to relieve herself. He would not have enjoyed returning to an apartment that smelled like a garbage heap.

“This is your home?” The teacher asked, though she sounded sure of the answer already. It seemed almost like a question borne from politeness not because she doubted her abilities to get him home.

“It is.” Jonghyun agreed.

“Well, it’s been a long day. You must be tired.”

He was tired. He hadn’t realised it before but the edges of his vision were getting a little blurred and his thoughts were going slowly. Though their lack of pace may also be due to just how relaxed he felt right now.

“I am tired.” He agreed once more.

“Why don’t you go lie down and I’ll head back home.” The teacher said, looking ready to do just that. Jonghyun was once again reminded that this woman had not had any sleep. She had been dragged out by a group of her students who made a silly mistake and had then spent hours upon hours fixing said mistake.

“I will do that.” Jonghyun said, nodding slowly. “Come on, Roo.”

That said, he headed through the apartment to his bedroom, falling onto the covers and laying his face on his pillow comfortably. He sighed in contentment, this was nice. He needed this.

He heard footsteps in the room with him. Rolling over he saw McGonagall and he smiled lazily. He opened his mouth to speak, to wish her well on her journey and to thank her for her efforts but he didn’t actually manage to do so.

She had pulled out her stick. It was different to ‘Mione’s he noticed. Longer. Thinner. Hers was a lighter wood with a swirl of deeper colour through the entire length. It was a nice looking stick.

Oh.

Look.

There was light. She had also spoken.

So it wasn’t something a magician grew out of. They did all use words and colourful lights to do their magic. Or maybe only some of it, since he was certain magic had been used in the airport and he just hadn’t seen it.

Interesting.

Oh, it was coming towards him. In a flash of blue-green light.

…

…

..

.

.

.

…

…

Jonghyun rolled over, stretching languidly. He was looking forward to his day off work. He had his radio show later that night and a TV interview the next day, but for the day, he was free to do nothing. Sure, he had all these grand plans to clean and cook and do productive things, but honestly, he wasn’t really going to do any of them.

Standing up, he shuffled Roo off his feet. It was unusual for the dog to sleep on his bed; she preferred her own dog bed by the door. Something must have worried her in the night. Ruffling her ears he shrugged it off and moved into the kitchen to prepare a light breakfast.

Looking down at himself he was confused to see that he was already dressed. He must have been exhausted last night to fall asleep in his clothes. Strange, he didn’t remember. A sign of how tired he really was, he guessed.

He opened the fridge to grab the milk only to be interrupted by a harsh knocking on his door.

He looked up in shock. Whoever it was sounded angry, livid in fact. The knocks were harsh and played a staccato beat on the material of his door. It was unusual for one to knock actually. His apartment had a bell, an intercom and a camera system.

Pressing the button for said system, Jonghyun was greeted with an image of his manager, looking almost purple with rage. Gulping, unsure what he had done, the singer rushed to the door, pulling it open.

“What can I do for you?”

The man let out a wordless growl of anger and prodded the singer in the chest with one finger. Jonghyun backed up, followed the whole way by his manager and the offending finger.

“Do you have any idea what day it is?” The man said, punctuating each word with a harsh prod.

Jonghyun faltered, confused by the question. “The twenty forth?”

“Yes, the twenty-“ The manager stopped talking, his finger stopping its motions. “The what?”

“The twenty forth?”

“No.” The man said, sounding confused now, as well as angry. “It’s the twenty sixth. You didn’t show up for your radio show on the twenty forth or the TV taping on the twenty fifth.”

Jonghyun looked at the man in shock. No, that wasn’t right. He was sure of the date. He had been at a photoshoot the previous day – the twenty third – and today was blissfully empty until he was required to go to his radio show. “But…”

“Where is your phone?” The man demanded, holding out one hand.

Jonghyun fumbled for a minute, his mind not sure what was going on. This didn’t make any sense. Finally succeeding in extracting his phone from his pocket, Jonghyun pressed the on button. The screen illuminated as normal, showing his lock screen – and the date - before fading into a strange kaleidoscope of colours and ripples before blinking off and not switching back on, no matter how many times he pressed the on switch.

He looked up at the manager in worry and handed over the now bricked device. It was apparently the twenty sixth. His phone was broken. He didn’t know what had happened.

The man looked at the object as if it was something repulsive and threw it angrily to one side.

“Ok, so your phone broke somehow. But why didn’t you answer the door?!”

“I don’t understand.” Jonghyun said, looking around his apartment, like somehow the familiar space would provide him with the answers he was seeking.

“It’s the twenty forth today. I went to the photoshoot yesterday. Came home. Went straight to bed.”

“So you’re saying you slept for forty eight hours and didn’t even hear me at the door?” his manager said slowly, enunciating the key points as if to highlight how ridiculous the statement sounded.

Jonghyun knew it sounded ridiculous. He did. But he had no other explanation to give. He would not have believed he could do such a thing either, not before today. However, here he was and he had no other explanation to give.

The manager sighed and straightened his rumpled shirt in annoyance. “I had hoped not to do this. I had hoped you would be honest with me. Sit down, now.”

He sounded serious. He sounded very serious. Jonghyun was actually a little scared now.

What followed was a long and arduous question session. Where was he? What was he doing? Why did he skip work? Did he know how utterly irresponsible he was?

The lecture lasted almost two hours and, by the end, Jonghyun was emotionally drained. He really didn’t understand this situation at all. He had no explanations. He was as confused and frustrated as his manager was. However, he couldn’t say that because the man just didn’t understand. He had not been there; he did not feel the way that Jonghyun did.

“You’re lucky,” the man concluded, “that you and the group have been so trustworthy in the past. I was able to give a reason for your absence and also rearrange the TV taping to this afternoon. Go get ready. Now!”

Jonghyun scrambled to do so, not willing to anger the man even more. It wasn’t worth it.

---

“What did you do?” Kibum questioned, the second Jonghyun walked into the dressing room SHINee were getting ready for their show in.

The only people there were the SHINee members themselves. They were even earlier than the hair and make-up people, as their manager had decided they must make a good impression given Jonghyun’s little misdemeanours from the previous two days.

Jonghyun slunk into the room with his head low, the other four members tracking his progress.

“What’d you do t’ make us come early?” Taemin asked around a mouthful of peanuts that had been provided in a small bowl in the room.

Jonghyun pouted and dropped down on one of the small couches in the room and shrugged. “’m not sure.” He mumbled. “went to bed and somehow slept for forty eight hours.”

“You what?” Kibum laughed. “You legit right now? I thought it would actually be something cool but... wow. This is Jinki levels of old man.”

“’s not my fault.” Jonghyun pleaded. “I don’t remember any of it.”

“Well you were asleep.” Minho commented from the corner.

“Yes, thanks for that insight.” Kibum said, rolling his eyes. “Well, ignoring Jjong and his idiocy, should we make use of this extra time and go through the script?”

“I suppose.” Jinki agreed, pulling out his copy of said document.

Jonghyun was happy to see the conversation move on from himself and did the same, ignoring the judgmental and annoyed looks the other members occasionally shot him.

Scanning the script quickly, he suddenly had a thought. “Hey Kibum?” Kibum grunted in acknowledgement and Jonghyun continued, “Have you ever considered robes as a fashion item? Like magician style, Gandalf robes. I think you could pull off a modern version.”

“Where the hell did that come from?” Kibum asked, looking completely gob smacked.

Jonghyun shrugged, “Dunno, just something I thought of just then.”

“Weirdo.” Kibum muttered, turning back to his script. “So here, we’re meant to play a random game?”