Seulgi likes to help out Hagrid on her spare time. His hut, though a bit unorganized, is cozy and warm, never too hot nor too cold and it’s the best place to go at any time. She’s known Hagrid since her first year (she’s in her fourth year now), and having grown considerably since then, she finds that the Hufflepuff Common Room and, really, the castle as a whole has become a bit too crowded and a bit too overbearing. Too many boys, to be exact, and jealousy from the girls.

It’s not like she wants the attention. It’s not fair. Just because her hair grew out a bit and she lost a bit of baby fat and gained some height. She doesn’t understand. She’s not even pretty. Just . . . not ugly. But despite her personal feelings, the feelings of the other students are clearly different from her’s. So, Hagrid’s place is where she goes.

A week prior, Hagrid had sent her an owl, asking her to take care of his pumpkins while he does some work for Dumbledore. To say the least, Seulgi had accepted and she had been spending most of her time in the hut.

Hagrid’s pumpkins are enormous and Seulgi barely beats the height of the smallest pumpkin there. It’s like a forest of the round, orange fruits, and embarrassingly, Seulgi finds them a bit intimidating, though it helps that her favorite color is orange. It’s not hard work. She simply sprays a bit of Slug Repellent here and there every day and makes sure there’s nothing wrong with them before going back inside to study or read. It’s become a sort of routine and Seulgi finds pleasure in it.

Today turns out to be something else altogether.

She trudges out to the back with a bottle of slug repellent (it’s rather big and she has to hold it with two hands) and begins spraying it over the pumpkins, making sure to gently shoo away any butterflies or any other animal that might be around before doing so. But then, as she makes her way to the furthest part of the garden, she trips over what she believes to be a root in the process and goes crashing to the ground. Thankfully, the ground is soft from the dirt that she makes sure to turn over and keep healthy for the pumpkins, and it’s more like falling on pillows than hard ground.

She’s still a bit disoriented though and it takes her a second to get herself back together. She looks behind her in hopes of seeing what she’d tripped over and catches sight of a broom. And not just any broom, a Firebolt. But it’s also right then when she spots something far more shocking than a broom. Hair. Pale, purple hair and not just a single strand but a full head of it. Seulgi shrieks in horror and scrambles backwards, scrabbling for her wand in her pocket.

Seulgi’s not too bright when it comes to human interaction, but she does rather well in her studies. So, she shouts the first charm that comes to mind.

“H-Homenum Revelio!”

It’s a spell that reveals the presence of another person, and Seulgi sees it, a marker that shines brightly just below the mass of purple hair. It’s then that Seulgi realizes that whoever this is is probably under an Invisibility Cloak. With her wand stretched out, Seulgi warily begins to crawl forward, inching up until she manages to grasp towards the marker. She feels silky cloth beneath her fingers and so, without hesitation, she grabs a hold and yanks.

What Seulgi’s greeted by is the beautiful, dirt-smudged face of the Gryffindor Quidditch captain and Head Girl of Hogwarts - Irene Bae. Irene is renowned throughout the school, famous for her looks (there’re rumours that her mother is a Veela, though it’s never been denied nor confirmed) and for her seeming perfection in everything she takes up - studies, Quidditch, dating. She’s also known as a heartbreaker of both girls and boys.

She’s the type that Seulgi resolutely avoids. She rarely sees her, anyway. She’s three years older and famous at that. Seulgi’s just a nobody.

When Seulgi finally recovers from the shock of seeing Irene, her eyes quickly scan the girl’s body. She’s wearing her school robes with her badges pinned to her chest, but the robes are torn near her legs and Seulgi, with increasing horror, sees a dark patch of what looks to be blood. She’s still breathing though and Seulgi keeps her head somehow, quickly standing up and bundling the Invisibility Cloak under one arm and picking up the broom.

“Wingardium Leviosa.”

Irene’s body gently levitates into the air and Seulgi manages to get her inside that way. She has Irene lie down on the couch right next to the fire and scurries towards the blood soaked end of the girl’s robes. She carefully peels back the fabric and winces at the sight. There’s a long and deep gash in her right leg, beginning from her ankle and nearly reaching her knee.

Seulgi worries her bottom lip. She knows a few healing spells but she doesn’t want to do anything rash. Getting her up to Madam Pomfrey’s would be the best bet if any, but for some reason, she’s hesitant to do so. Irene would no doubt get in trouble for whatever she’d done to end up in Hagrid’s backyard unconscious, and Seulgi was sure she wouldn’t be thanked for that.

“Petrificus Totalus!”

Seulgi’s arms and legs abruptly snap together and she falls face forward onto her chest, only her eyes retaining its ability to move and they frantically dart around in fear. She hears a hiss of pain and the tell-tale rustling of robes. Then, a hand closes around her shoulder and she’s being rolled onto her back, coming face-to-face with Irene.

The seventh year’s expression is one of confusion, brows furrowed and lips stretched into a straight line, then a brief look of recognition flashes across her face.

“You’re that fourth year, Seulgi Kang, aren’t you? What are you doing here?”

Seulgi wants to respond, but she can only blink at Irene who only then seems to realize her dilemma.

“Oh, right.”

She mutters the counter curse under her breath and Seulgi sinks into the rug that had mildly cushioned her, her muscles and joints sighing in relief. A moment later she collects herself and sits up, taking a better look at the now conscious Irene. She catches the way her eyes jerk away from her when she does so, but she only tilts her head.

The silence is overbearing and only the crackling of the fire gives her any relief from it.

“Sorry,” Irene grunts, “About . . . cursing you.”

“Oh, uhm, it’s okay,” Seulgi says shyly.

Irene looks surprised at her answer, eyes darting to meet hers briefly then jumping away once more.

“I was flying at night. I got too close to the trees and fell.”

Seulgi looks at Irene again, wondering what’s going through her head.

“Just thought you at least deserved an explanation.”

The seventh year rubs the back of her neck in a sheepish way and Seulgi finds herself enamoured at the boyishness the undoubtedly beautiful girl possesses. Her uninjured leg in propped up and her arm is resting on it, and she sits in a sort of way that that reminds Seulgi of an arrogant teenage boy. Her way of talking is also short and surly, but where it would be unattractive on a guy, it’s sort of endearing on her.

“Oh, well, thank you.”

Seulgi knows her way of communicating is often taken as rude and unapproachable. But it’s only because she lacks the talent for stringing words together and making them sound pretty like others do. She’s too self conscious and a bit too awkward for that and she’d much rather bury her nose in a book or play with animals (though she’s grateful that Hagrid had decided to take the large dog with him no matter how lovable he is).

“You don’t talk much, do you.”

“Oh no, I’m not so good at it,” she admits.

Seulgi looks down and fiddles with her fingers, and when she looks up she thinks she sees a blush painting porcelain cheeks, though Irene turns her head too quickly for her to be sure. The older girl clears .

“You know . . . I thought you’d be different. I mean, the way the kids talk about you, I thought you’d be . . . well, something else. You’re pretty popular, you know. Though I reckon you knew that, huh.”

Seulgi feels a blush of shame creep up onto her cheeks. “No, I’m really not. I just like to keep to myself.”

“Well, I guess that explains why I haven’t seen you around much.”

The corner of Irene’s lips quirk up just enough for Seulgi to register as a smile, before she’s suddenly pointing her wand at her injured leg.

“Vulnera Sanentur.”

She repeats this thrice, the open wound magically mending itself in front of her very eyes before it disappears.

Then, “Tergeo.”

And the blood is gone, leaving Irene’s skin smooth and clear.

“Thanks for finding me and bringing me in here. Oh, and for not fetching the professors. I appreciate it.”

Seulgi only nods, unsure of what to say at this point. But then, Irene’s suddenly turning and Seulgi’s suddenly trapped between her legs and her chin is being tilted up and Irene’s face is suddenly an inch apart from hers. She feels like she’s about to have a heart attack.

“You’re cute.”

After that encounter, Seulgi finds herself being trailed by none other than Irene Bae herself. Rumors fly through the air and through walls like the ghosts in the castle and Seulgi can barely handle it all. Irene somehow manages to figure out her schedule and waits for her outside of every class, sits with her in the Great Hall at the Hufflepuff table like she belongs there, and even walks her to her dorm room every night without fail. And the whole time, Seulgi’s just a shy, awkward, blubbering mess, keeping her head down and avoiding both curious and hostile stares.

At least Irene’s presence keeps the boys away from her.

It takes three weeks and an upcoming Hogsmeade visit for Irene to officially ask her out. They’re on their way to the dorms. Irene’s as intense as Seulgi is meek and she finds herself pinned behind a wall with a speed that has her reeling. It’s dramatic and thrilling and sort of romantic and it has Seulgi blushing fifty shades of red.

“Uhm, I was wondering if you’d like to go to, well, Hogsmeade with me? I mean, I really like you and you’re really different and I just want to - .”

Seulgi can’t keep back the giggle that had been forming since Irene’s initiation of the position they’re in and when she looks back up, she’s mesmerized by the way Irene’s looking at her. Irene’s smaller than her, sure, but she’s also stronger and more capable and that makes up for the physical size. And her eyes, her eyes are nothing to joke about. They’re sharp and intense and absolutely breathtaking and it’s then that Seulgi feels the butterflies that everyone talks about, the ones Seulgi had always brushed off as mere stories and nothing close to reality.

“Yes.”

The first date is filled with fumbling and sweet, yet awkward glances. They’re dancing around each other and Seulgi’s never felt so high in her life. It’s when she shivers in the cool, wintry air that Irene takes a hold of her hand with all the nonchalance that Seulgi’s sure she’d only just managed to conjure up. It’s loveable an