The first snow of winter arrives just over a week before Christmas.

It falls heavily but gently, appearing in the sky at around half four in the morning. Chanyeol looks up from his book to watch it float down through his bedroom window. It casts shadows through the moonlight, small patches of dark grey dancing over everything in sight. He doesn't know when it started, but there is already a decent sized pile of snow building up on his windowsill. It must have been a while at least. He was too engrossed in his book to notice, it seems.

With a sigh, he closes his book and rests it on his bedside table. Settling more comfortably against his pillows, he watches it drift down in silence, enjoying the stillness of the night and the sense of calmness that snow always brings along with it.

Everything is quiet, besides the ticking of the clock and the rustling of blankets nearby. Chanyeol hasn't felt this relaxed in a while, not since… well, not since he left for the Christmas Holidays anyway. The events of the past few weeks seem to filter out of his mind in time with the falling snow, almost like he's being washed clean. Eventually his toes start to feel a little numb, a little cold. He breaks from his reverie to rummage at the foot of his bed for the pair of socks he kicked off earlier that evening, slipping them onto his feet before nestling back into his pillows.

On the floor, wrapped in layers upon layers of thick, woolly blankets, Baekhyun shifts. He and Jongdae have been sleeping on Chanyeol’s bedroom floor for a week or so, keeping Chanyeol company while his mum and sister are at work. He pauses his snoring to mumble something to himself and roll over, burrowing into Jongdae's side before resuming his slumber. Jongdae smacks his lips in response, flicking out a hand as if to swat the other away. It's a futile endeavour, as Baekhyun has already made himself comfortable in the curve of his friend's shoulder. Jongdae grumbles lazily, resting his hand on the blanketed mound of Baekhyun's hip. It’s cute, Chanyeol thinks, that even in sleep those two will find a reason to bicker with each other. He’ll have to tease them about it when they eventually wake up.

It’ll be a long time before that happens, though. Fighting back a yawn, Chanyeol smiles softly and looks away to stare at the ceiling.

It's somewhat twisted in a way, that after all that has happened, Chanyeol cannot sleep. Hasn't slept, at least for more than a couple hours at a time, since he woke up in the Hospital Wing just over a month ago. It just doesn’t come naturally to him anymore. He spends most nights reading or playing video games with his headphones in, ignoring the way his eyes throb with exhaustion from being open for so long. He knows all the light is bad for him, and the migraines he gets are unbearably painful, but there’s not much he can do about it besides chug painkillers and find something else to do to distract him. It’s hard to sleep when your body so adamantly rejects it.

It was different at Hogwarts, when he had people to talk to, and schoolwork to catch up on. Not sleeping was the least of his worries when there was so much he had missed in the month he was sick. He was in the Hospital Wing for a further two weeks after he woke up, and every second of that time was taken up with one activity or another. There was simply no time for sleep, and for those two weeks, Chanyeol was content. Physically drained, and a bit sore, but content.

But now he’s home, away from the chaos and the noise, with no studying to do and no essays to write. All he has are his books and his games and the loud whirring of a brain that doesn’t know how to shut down anymore. Just his luck to be dealt such a hand in a game that he didn’t know he was even playing until it was too late.

At least he has his best friends to keep him company. Even if they are currently dead to the world and snoring so loudly it’s making the cogs in his alarm clock rattle.

Byun Baekhyun and Kim Jongdae. Chanyeol rolls over to look at them, clutching his duvet to his chest. The sight of them bundled up on his bedroom floor, curled around each other messily like puppies in a basket, makes him wonder what he did in a past life deserve having such wonderful people at his side. They’ve done so much for him in the time that they’ve known each other, but this takes the cake. There are no words to describe how much he loves them, how much he treasures them and their happiness and everything in between, and how thankful he is that they feel the same in return. What would he be without his two best friends?

‘Dead,’ his brain supplies vacantly. Without their efforts to discover the truth, Chanyeol would be six feet under by now. His head hurts just thinking about it.

They risked so much for him on their quest to discover the truth behind his mysterious illness. If his situation (and it did, it a lot) it’s nothing compared to what his friends had to go through. They spent a month watching him waste away into nothingness; if Chanyeol had to do the same for one of them, he is sure he would have gone mad. Almost dying is bad enough, but watching someone you care about die is… well, Chanyeol doesn’t want to think about it. The looks he gets from Jongdae and Baekhyun when they think he isn’t watching - disbelief, like they’re living in a dream, and just a touch of fear, afraid that Chanyeol will fade into smoke at any second - is enough for him to know what it was like.

He can remember the day they told him about his illness like it was yesterday. They approached him during a free period when they knew the Hospital Wing would be more or less empty, and spent the next hour retelling the events that had occurred during that long, long month.

For a while, Chanyeol didn't believe them. Shim Jaewon… Chanyeol barely knew him. He was in the year above, a Gryffindor, and his dad was a famous beater, but other than that there was nothing else about him that made him stand out. His mind was blank when Baekhyun and Jongdae mentioned his name, whispered it to him in the quiet of the Hospital Wing like the words were cursed. This boy, this stranger, had poisoned him with a forbidden sleeping potion and left him for dead, just to get onto the quidditch team? There's no way someone would do that to a person. It was ridiculous, complete and utter madness. They had to be lying.

"We're not," Jongdae muttered gloomily. "We wish we were. Ask Junmyeon or Minseok, or even Jongin. They'll all tell you the same thing."

It's a harrowing thought, that someone would do something so wicked to someone they barely know. Baekhyun and Jongdae did their best to reassure him that it was the act of a madman, a kid driven to extremes by jealousy. But Chanyeol couldn't help but wonder… is he really that bad? Is he really so terrible at quidditch that someone would kill him for it? Is he the reason Gryffindor has been losing? Has he been letting everyone down all this time?

"Don't be an idiot," said Baekhyun, ignoring the disapproving look Jongdae was giving him. "Luhan wouldn't have let you on if you were bad. And even if you were, that doesn’t make what he did okay. You are amazing, Yeol, at everything you do. You didn’t deserve any of this. Don’t let that bastard convince you otherwise."

He’s thankful that they waited a week or so before telling him. Back then, Chanyeol was weak, too weak to hold himself up properly for more than a few minutes. He struggled with eating solid foods and could only stomach water and plain soups else he would throw it all back up minutes later. Miss Luna asked the school's Potions Master to brew a solution to soothe his stomach and help quicken the pace of his recovery, but it only did so much to ease the pain. It wasn't until the first week was over that he was deemed healthy enough to be left on his own unmonitored, the second for him to be allowed to leave his bed and wander around. His friends were with him every step of the way, visiting whenever they could, bringing with them smiles and laughter and a sense of comfort that Chanyeol constantly craved long after they had to leave.

His gratitude doesn’t stop there. Minseok and Luhan, Jongin, Junmyeon, Yixing, even Kris, they all helped put him together when he was so far beyond broken. All of them went through hell to help him and Chanyeol has no idea how to translate to them the extent of his gratitude. If he has to spend the rest of his life repaying them for their kindness then he will. He would do anything for them, just as they have done everything for him.

Even though he knows that they’re lying to him.

There are some things that don’t quite add up about their story of what happened. There are topics of conversations that people go quiet about when he enters the room, words whispered to each other behind his back. He noticed it when he was bedridden and it’s even more obvious now that Baekhyun and Jongdae are with him every second of the day. There’s something they’re hiding from him, a secret he isn’t allowed to know. He isn’t sure what it is yet, but he thinks it has something to do with how he was cured. After all, he was poisoned by something not even St Mungo’s could remedy, and yet here he is, safe and sound and suffering from sleep-deprivation headaches. There has to be a reason, right? For him to be okay despite being left for dead.

Whenever he asks, all he gets are blank stares and hollow answers. Some say Miss Luna and the St Mungo’s healers must have found a cure in the end, and others merely shrug their shoulders and suggest that the effects wore off and he woke up all by himself. Some don’t even bother answering, choosing instead to change the subject of conversation, or even find an excuse to leave entirely. A part of Chanyeol tells him that he shouldn’t be too hung up on how he was cured, that he should be happy with the way things are and leave it at that. But that’s not very fair, in his eyes. He deserves to know what happened to him, and the fact that he knows everyone is lying to him makes him want to question them even more.

One day he’ll have an answer. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but some day. For now, though, he has little to do but trust in his friends and wait. They can’t keep the truth from him forever.

The clock on the wall ticks on to five o'clock. Chanyeol yawns, bringing a hand up to smother the sound before slipping it back under the covers. He can feel a migraine creeping up on him, tugging at his eyes and temples like a screaming child eager for his attention. He ignores it in favour of fiddling with the sleeve of his jumper, biting his lips as his eyes follow the snowy shadows that dance across his bedroom walls and floor.

The headache is persistent, eating away at him slowly as it pulsates against his skull. There are painkillers in a box on the other side of the room near his computer, but he would have to climb over his friends to get to it. He doesn’t want to risk waking them up, not when they stayed up as late as they could to keep Chanyeol and his insomnia company.

Sitting up and shuffling on his bottom to face the window, he leans his head against the wall and sighs. There are only a couple more hours to go until his mum wakes up and he can go downstairs. He thinks he can wait that long, at least.

Not that he has much of a choice.

The snow starts to fall a bit heavier. Chanyeol’s stomach rumbles noisily, gurling like a swirling drain. He lifts a hand to rub his tummy, frowning at how flat and deflated he feels. He’s only managed to gain back some of the weight he lost while asleep in the few weeks that have passed, but it’s a startling improvement from how he was when he woke up. It’ll be a long time before he returns to his old weight and fitness, he knows that, but he’s proud of how far he’s come thus far. He might not be able to eat very much at a time, but being awake for so long makes him super hungry, and he does his best to snack on small things whenever he can to keep his energy up. Maybe now, with his growling tummy, is another one of those times.

It’s been a good few hours since he last ate, now that he thinks about it. He and his friends had ordered pizza and chewed on it lazily while binge watching some random muggle show about time travel Jongdae suggested they’d all like (Baekhyun, as always, was completely immersed in the whole experience, despite pausing every few minutes to ask increasingly stupid questions about how televisions work, which neither Jongdae or Chanyeol could sufficiently explain) and there is still some left over downstairs, wrapped up in tinfoil in the depths of fridge. If he’s quiet enough he could sneak downstairs and grab himself a slice. A couple bites could tide him over until breakfast, when he can have some actual food to fill him up properly.

It’s a split second decision that has him swinging his legs around to hang them off the edge of his bed. Flicking off the covers, he shoves his feet into his slippers and stands up, shivering as a wave of cold bristles across his skin. Baekhyun and Jongdae are blocking his way to the door, so he goes the long way, tiptoeing around the edge of the room as he tries his hardest not to bump into anything. His stomach gurgles loudly and he holds his stomach in a poor attempt to quieten it down, slowly but steadily making his way around.

He thinks he’s done it when he gets within metres of the door. He relaxes, confident that his friends are undisturbed, sleeping soundly. Reaching out a hand, he goes to grab the door handle, but in his brief lapse of concentration his slippered foot catches on something and he is sent crashing down. The bang of his arm colliding hard with the wood echoes throughout the house, and Chanyeol freezes on the spot. He hasn’t even left his room yet and his plan has already been thwarted. Go figure.

What did he trip on? Looking down, Chanyeol squints in the dark. It looks like a belt, or perhaps a bag strap, long and thin and brown. Bending down to hook it off his foot, Chanyeol discovers it’s the latter; in fact it’s his own school bag, and its contents are now scattered all over the floor around his feet. He must have dumped it next to the door when he came home, and not moved it since. It’s what he gets for being a lazy sod while his friends are round, he supposes.

Thankfully, no one wakes up. Not even Baekhyun or Jongdae, who are mere metres away, still grumbling to each other sleepily. Chanyeol waits for the house to settle again before bending down to scoop up his belongings and shove them back into his bag, doing it as quickly and as quietly as he can so he can continue his mission of getting a snack. It was only a small trip so nothing went too far, and he’s got everything pretty much packed away before he spies something he doesn’t recognise.

It’s a long brown rectangle, about twice the size and thickness as one of his sister’s makeup palettes. For a second that’s what he thinks it is, confused as to how his sister’s makeup ended up in his room when she hasn’t lived at home for almost a year now. But when he picks it up and brings it closer to his face for a better look, he realises that it’s something else, something hard wrapped in neat, brown paper, held together by a length of string.

It’s one of his birthday presents.

Chanyeol’s birthday came two days after he was allowed to leave the Hospital Wing. He was still a bit weak, a wobbly on his legs, a bit sensitive, so his friends didn’t plan anything too big and excitable. It was just him and them, all packed together in the Gryffindor Common Room in front of the fireplace, and there were so many presents that Chanyeol had no idea what to do with them all.

They really spoiled him that day, gifting him everything from a broom polishing kit (from Luhan, unsurprisingly) to a huge book on the many wonderful magical beasts within Asia (from his mum and sister), to even a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans the size of his leg (from Baekhyun, of course, who incidentally ate most of the box himself). They had decorated the room with crimson and gold bunting and little balls of light that floated in the air above them like fireflies, and Chanyeol had sipped on his warm butterbeer feeling like the luckiest kid in the world. It was a wonderful day, and Chanyeol’s tummy feels warm and fuzzy just thinking about it.

There were a couple of faces he didn’t know very well. A couple of Jongin’s friends, Slytherins, called Sehun and Zitao. He’d seen them with Jongin many times, and recognised Sehun as the seeker for the Slytherin quidditch team, but never actually spoken to them. Initially hesitant, he warmed to them immediately after they gifted him a thick, hand knitted woollen scarf and matching gloves. Soon they were chatting amicably, and they blended in with the group as if they had been a part of it for years.

It was these two boys who gave Chanyeol the strange present.

They cornered him when he was on his way back from the bathroom, coaxing him away from the group and over to the far end of the Common Room to ask if they could talk to him in private. Chanyeol agreed, albeit hesitantly, and led them back up into his dorm room, closing the door behind him. It was there that they presented him with the little brown parcel, tied up neatly with string, and told him that it was a gift from someone who couldn’t be there that night.

“Who is it?” he asked curiously. Everyone who was invited was downstairs, even those from other houses who shouldn’t be in the Gryffindor Common Room at all. Chanyeol couldn’t think of anyone that was missing. Perhaps Miss Luna, or one of his professors?

Sehun and Zitao refused to answer. “We can’t tell you,” the latter said as he shook his head, looking sheepish. “But they know you very well. They wanted to be here tonight but aren’t able to. That’s all we can really say.”

“I’m very thankful,” Chanyeol replied, more confused than anything, “but I don’t understand? Why couldn’t they be here?”

“It’s a long story,” Sehun replied. He looked a bit sad. “We don’t know much more than you do, unfortunately. Maybe if you open it, it might help you figure some stuff out.”

“But do it when there’s no one else around,” added Zitao, fixing him with a stern gaze and pointed finger. “They said you have to open it alone. They were really strict on that actually. No one else can see it besides you.”

Chanyeol was about to ask why he had to be alone, but then Minseok had yelled at them from the bottom of the stairs about cake, and the two boys sprinted out of the room as fast as they could. Confused and a little annoyed, Chanyeol dropped the little package into his school bag and went back downstairs to join his friends, soon forgetting that the present even existed.

It must have been there ever since.

“What are you doing?”

At the sound of a voice, Chanyeol startles, almost dropping the present in his hands. He hides it behind his back and spins around in the direction of the voice, squinting as he tries to figure out where it came from. The sight of movement has him dragging his eyes down to the floor, and the racing of his heart relaxes when he sees the top of Jongdae’s head poking out from the mass of blankets on the floor, sleepy eyes blinking at him in the dark.

“Oh,” Chanyeol says dumbly, gulping like a fish as he tries to come up with an excuse. “I’m just going to the toilet. Must have bumped into something. Sorry for waking you up.”

“S’okay,” Jongdae mumbles dopily. He lets out a yawn and smacks his lips before snuggling back down into the blankets. “Have fun. Send me a postcard.”

Baekhyun, who had been shoved aside as Jongdae sat up, returns to wrapping his arms and legs around his friend’s entire body. Chanyeol waits for them to settle, standing like an idiot next to the door as snoring once again fills the room like a steam train, before quietly opening his bedroom door and slipping out into the hallway, closing it behind him with a soft creak.

It’s funny how houses always look scarier at night. The nooks and crannies that you used to hide in as a child playing hide and seek suddenly become black spots and haunted corners, just big enough for a demon or axe murderer to crouch in comfortably, unnoticed. Chanyeol tiptoes down the hallway, hairs on the back of his neck prickling nervously as his imagination runs wild. Instead of leading downstairs, the stairs now disappear into a pitch black abyss, and Chanyeol bypasses them completely in favour of the bathroom, which sits just a little further down the hallway.

He dashes inside and flicks the switch to turn the light on, closing the door behind him. The sudden bright light blinds him a little and he almost drops the present again, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjust. Sighing in relief that he made it there without being eaten alive by ghouls, Chanyeol takes a seat on the toilet and lets his heart calm down a little before turning the present over in his hands, inspecting it with his fingers. His desire for food has long since been quelled; now he’s hungry to know what’s beneath the crisp, brown paper, curious as to its sender and their reasons for not giving it to him in person.

The paper is slightly crumpled at the edges, probably from having been stuck at the bottom of his bag for weeks. Chanyeol picks at one particularly squashed corner, tearing a tiny hole into it that he widens with a finger. He runs the same one along the edge to tear open one of the shorter sides, and he tips the package sideways to let whatever it is inside slip out. It lands on his lap, and Chanyeol drops the paper to the floor as he picks it up gently, heart pounding once again.

It’s a muggle children’s book. Judging by the faded cover, colours dull and milky, and the curling edges of the binding and crooked spine, it’s an old one too. Chanyeol knows the stories, has read them as a kid many times, and he reads the title out loud, nostalgia swirling at the tip of his tongue as old memories come back to him.

“Grimms’ Fairy Tales, by Jakob and Wilhelm Grimm.”

He had a copy of this once. It was his mum’s favourite book when she was a kid and she handed it down to Yoora, who then passed it onto Chanyeol himself. It was never one of his favourites - he much preferred the stories his dad told him of Babbitty Rabbitty and the warlock who refused to fall in love, mainly because they were all so silly and made him laugh - but he still enjoyed it enough to have read it about a hundred times before he turned ten. He remembers lending it to a friend one day, alongside a few of his other old muggle books, but his memory stops there. He hasn’t seen the book in his house since, even when his mum made him help clear the attic of his and Yoora’s old toys a couple years ago.

Is this…? No, there’s no way. Chanyeol gently folds back the cover, and there in a child’s messy scrawl are the words ‘Property of Lee Young-mi’, his mum’s name. He gasps quietly, bringing the book up to hold it against his chest. This is his book, the one he had as a kid and gave away all those years ago. No wonder it’s so fragile, creaking under his fingers as the spine strains from overuse.

But who did he give it to? And why did they choose now to return it? Chanyeol wracks his brain, thinking hard despite the pain throbbing at his temples. It can’t have been Baekhyun or Jongdae, else he would have seen it in the dorm; what would they want with a muggle book anyway, when one avoids books like the plague if he can help it and the other is a muggleborn himself? He can’t have returned it to Yoora either, as she would have just left it in the house. Chanyeol didn’t have many friends growing up until he started Hogwarts, and he’s confident that his memory of the book stops before then. So who would he have been so close to so as to give them his mum’s favourite childhood book? There is no one, except, maybe, perhaps…

There’s a lump. He can feel the way the book bulges slightly, as if something has been shoved between the pages. Lowering the book back to his lap, Chanyeol carefully opens it to find a small slip of folded paper pressed between the centrefold. He takes it out slowly, and inside is a dried tulip, bright red and flowering beautifully against the white paper. It reminds him of the flowers that bloomed beside his sickbed, the ones that now sit on his dining room table, as fresh as the day he first saw them. He picks it up as gently as he can, careful not to crush the delicate petals between his fingers, and underneath it, traced against the paper with a steady hand, are the words ‘Happy Birthday,’ written in swirling black ink.

Chanyeol knows that handwriting. He’s seen it grow from barely legible scrawl to perfect calligraphy, letters round and even and everything Chanyeol’s isn’t. He recognises it immediately, and he traces his fingers over the words, heart slamming against his ribs like a beating drum, so loud he feels like he might drown in the sound.

“Kyungsoo?”

Suddenly there is fire. It’s white hot and electric, and it courses through Chanyeol’s veins as if he’s been struck by lightning, burning him from the inside out. He reels, tipping forwards as a wave of dizziness and nausea takes over him. His brain feels like it’s bouncing around in his skull like a pinball. It takes all the energy and strength he has to hold himself up as the pain in his body subsides and images start to flash across his eyes, snapshots of his life so bright that for a second he’s afraid he’ll go blind.

He sees figures and shapes distorted by shadows. The tips of his fingers and toes tingle with static magic as memories long-forgotten come back to him in waves, washing away the fire in his veins. He sees bright green, a garden filled with a kaleidoscope of colours, and two shapeless forms running in circles. The vision shifts, and then he’s in a room filled with hundreds of these spectres, all of them facing him as a deep booming voice calls out a name written in red and gold, so different from the emerald glow that clings to one particular shadow just a few metres away. He has no time to focus on the sadness that filters through him as suddenly he’s pulled away and thrown into a classroom, watching this same shadow stand before him with a light so brilliant it leaves him acid green with envy.

He sees so many things, feels so much that he can barely breathe. His mouth is open but no sound comes out, or at least no sound that can be heard over the tsunami going on inside his head. He sees the same ghost over and over again, emerald and silver, reds and yellows and blues and crystalline whites, colours he couldn’t even dream of. The pounding of his heart feels like a countdown, each beat a new memory that brings him closer to the end. What is this magic, this power that surges through him? He’s never experienced anything like it. He feels like he’s both flying and falling, drifting through space and time like the madman from Jongdae’s tv show. There are voices all around him, some old, some new. It’s all too much for him to bear. He feels himself slipping away, drifting deeper into the visions and the soothing sound of a familiar voice saying his name, breathing it into his mouth like a prayer.

Just as he thinks that he might just die, everything stops. A deafening quiet slams into him so hard it makes his ears ring. A warmth settles around him and the floor feels solid beneath his feet. Blinking in the light, Chanyeol realises that he’s stood in the Hospital Wing. The whole room is empty, not a single person in sight. There aren’t even any beds, just a wide open space, like the room has yet to be moved into. A sound comes from behind him, and turns around to see a single bed at the far end of the room, shielded by a curtain. He walks towards it, afraid of what he might see.

When he pushes back the curtain, he is greeted by the sight of four boys. He recognises Baekhyun and Jongdae immediately, the former stood at the head of a hospital bed while the latter stands closer to the entrance, so close that Chanyeol almost bumps into him. Although he can tell that it’s them, their bodies are enveloped in mist and shadows, the same as the spectres he saw in his other visions. The other two boys however are crystal clear. Chanyeol sees himself in the bed, a skeleton with grey skin and ratty hair down to his chin, but surprisingly that’s not the part that has his hands shaking as he approaches the scene before him.

Kyungsoo is sat beside his sleeping form, nestled in the curve of his crooked waist. He looks terrified, wide eyes fixed on the sleeping boy like he’s seeing a ghost for the very first time. Chanyeol hasn’t seen the other boy this close in almost a year. There’s such a deep, melancholic sadness to his expression that it springs tears to Chanyeol’s eyes. He lets them fall, too focussed on the way Kyungsoo trails his eyes up his body, wincing at the sight of his protruding ribs and stone cold skin.

Are you ready? a voice says. It sounds like Jongdae, but the shadow version of him doesn’t have a mouth or face to speak. The voice sounds like it’s coming from all around them, filtering through the air like smoke. Chanyeol watches through his tears as Kyungsoo forces on a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“No,” he says quietly. “The last time we spoke to each other I told him I hated him.”

Remember, you don’t have to be here when he wakes up, the voice of Baekhyun echoes in his ears.

“If he wakes up. I know. Thank you.”

Time slows down as Kyungsoo takes the sleeping Chanyeol’s hand in his own. The ghosts of Baekhyun and Jongdae disappear, and so does the Hospital Wing, leaving them floating in nothingness. Chanyeol barely notices that he’s standing on empty air, not when Kyungsoo is looking at his frail, broken body with such tenderness and pain. He leans down, and when he takes Chanyeol’s head in his hands, cradling him like he’s the most special thing in the whole universe, the world bursts, unravelling at the seams.

The last thing he sees before he explodes into a million shards of crystalline glass is the gentle press of Kyungsoo’s lips against his own, burning through his mind, his body, his soul, as the pitch blackness swallows him whole.

~

When he comes to, Chanyeol finds himself on the floor of the bathroom. He startles awake with a gasp, lungs in so much air that he chokes on his own breathlessness. He surges forwards, arms wrapping instinctively around his stomach as he hacks up cough after cough, eyes leaking tears all over his cheeks, wetness soaking into his pyjama top.

What the just happened to him? As his breathing starts to slow down, throat sore and brittle from the attack, he clings to the sink and leans on the toilet to haul himself up onto his feet. His knees wobble dangerously, vision spinning. Closing his eyes, he fights through the nausea bubbling in his stomach, breathing through his nose until the horrid sensation fades away. Never in his life has he experienced something like that before. He lifts a hand to his chest to feel his beating heart, a reminder that he is in fact alive and not stuck in some horrific, trauma-inducing acid trip of nightmare.

Gripping onto the sink, he stumbles around to stare at himself in the mirror. His hair is a mess, pulled in all directions like a birds nest, and his eyes hang low with deep purple bruises, evidence of his longs nights and restless days. He looks like , if he’s being honest with himself. Turning on the tap, he gathers a handful of cold water and splashes it onto his face, rubbing his eyes with his fists as he struggles to make sense of everything that just happened.

What he saw...was it even real? The Hospital Wing, his bed and the figures that surrounded it? Kyungsoo...is this the truth that he’s been missing all this time? Even though it’s the first time he’s ever witnessed such a scene, something about it was so familiar, a moment of deja vu so real he could almost reach out and touch it.

Lifting a hand, he brushes a finger over his lips. Kyungsoo had kissed him. He’s certain that was the last thing he saw before the vision faded away. Kyungsoo was kissing him, full on the mouth, hands around his cheeks and lips almost devastatingly soft. It was almost dreamlike, the way he held Chanyeol like he was everything. Was this his mind playing tricks on him, exhuming old affections that he had long since forgotten? Or was this something else entirely?

There’s no doubt about it: Kyungsoo was the one who woke him from his cursed sleep. Baekhyun and Jongdae must have somehow encouraged the Slytherin to kiss him, breaking the effects of the potion that had so nearly taken his life. Chanyeol is certain of it. The potion must still be inside him, nudging him in the right direction. There’s no other explanation for the sudden, uncontrollable visions, triggered at the thought of the other boy’s name. The tips of his fingers start to tingle. Never did he consider the possibility that the poison used to ruin his life would also be the one trying to help fix it.

Something’s bothering him, though. Chanyeol watches his brow furrow in his reflection. Why Kyungsoo? And why a kiss? Their history is rocky, consumed by jealousy and pain. They were happy once, but that was a long time ago. It’s been almost a year since they last spoke to each other, and that’s a memory Chanyeol would very much like to forget. Why has fate decided to pull them together again? What is Kyungsoo to Chanyeol, to have the former burdened with such an insurmountable task?

Gathering another handful of water, Chanyeol splashes his face again and screws his eyes shut. He thinks back to all the whispers he overheard while he was in the Hospital Wing, the conversations cut short when they realised he was listening. There must be something there to give him a clue as to why Kyungsoo was the one to break his curse. He wrings his brain dry, fighting through his exhaustion to come up with something, anything, that will give him the answer he’s looking for.

Snow. The only thing that’s coming up is the word ‘snow’. It cropped up a lot while he was bedridden, especially when they thought he was resting and unable to hear them. What has snow got to do with anything? He was sick during the months of October and November, a bit too early in the season for snowfall; the first snow started literally hours ago. What is it about snow that connects Kyungsoo to the events that have turned Chanyeol’s life upside down?

He takes a step back, pushing himself up from the sink. His foot collided with something and he slips, wobbling precariously on his legs. Looking down, he sees that he’s stepped on his mum’s book. It must have fallen to the floor when he did, pages wide open and crooked from his misstep.

Bending down, he picks it up, straightening the pages. A tingling in his fingers has him freezing as he stares at the object in his hands. He doesn’t know what urges him to skim through the rest of the book (perhaps the potion really is guiding him, coaxing him along with gentle persuasion and static magic) but he finds himself turning every single page hurriedly like he’s running out of time. He’s there for minutes, scanning his eyes across every word and sentence, searching for meaning in each and every letter.

He stops somewhere near the middle of the book. Two words beam up at him from the surface of the page. With a gasp, he drops the book into the sink, stumbling backwards as his whole world come crashing down around him.

Snow White. Schneewittchen. The story of a poisoned innocent stuck in an enchanted sleep, doomed to remain like that forever unless they be woken by true love’s kiss.

This is the truth he’s been seeking all this time. If Chanyeol’s suspicions are correct, his sickness could only be broken by true love’s kiss. And seeing as it was Kyungsoo that kissed him...Kyungsoo must be his true love. That’s why only he could break the effects of the potion. No wonder everyone was keeping it a secret; the realisation has his stomach twisting in knots, curling in and around itself. He tears at his hair, a hysterical laugh slipping from between his lips. Kyungsoo is his true love. There’s no doubt about it. It’s been right in front of him all this time.

He has to see him.

He moves before he even registers that he has. Spinning around, he bounds out of the bathroom and runs down the hallway, skipping down the stairs as fast as his legs will take him. The sun has just started to break on the horizon, but it’s still pitch black. Chanyeol feels his way along the wall to find a light switch, flicking it on to illuminate the downstairs hallway before immediately dashing over to the shoe rack, slipping on his thick winter boots.

He has no idea why he’s doing this. The clock on the wall say it’s just a few minutes past half five, way too early to turn up at someone’s house uninvited, especially if that person hasn’t spoken to you in almost a whole year. But Chanyeol needs to talk to Kyungsoo. He has to explain himself, to figure out what happened between them and try to find a way to fix it. Now that he knows the truth, nothing in his life will ever be the same. At this moment, there is nothing else he wants more than to see the boy responsible for saving his life, even if he knows there’s a chance Kyungsoo won’t want anything to do with him. Just seeing him, Chanyeol thinks, will be more than enough.

His coat hangs on a peg beside the front door. He pulls it on, digging deep into his pockets for the gloves he was given by Sehun and Zitao for his birthday when he catches sight of the snow tumbling down outside through his sitting room window. His hat and scarf sit in a crumpled pile on the floor, having fallen as he grabbed his coat; he pulls them on, wrapping the long scarf around his neck as many times as he can. He hasn’t been outside very much since he came home - hasn’t been outside at all since he got sick, he reminds himself grimly - and he isn’t sure how well he will fair against the elements. He finds himself pausing, stumbling over his thoughts as he questions whether this is a good idea after all.

No, he tells himself sternly. He’s made his decision and he’s going to stick with it, even if it means freezing to death in the process. His true love is out there, just on the other side of the village. The only thing stopping them from meeting is Chanyeol’s own hesitance. He refuses to let himself falter at the final hurdle, not when he’s so close to the finish line.

Taking one final deep breath, Chanyeol unlocks the front door and steps outside, praying that his decision hasn’t been made in vain.

~

Kyungsoo’s house is ten minutes away from Chanyeol’s own. However, as Chanyeol starts to walk, pushing his way through the thick blanket of snow that continues to fall heavily around him, he soon realises that it’s probably going to take him a lot longer to get there. If he remembers correctly, the quickest route involves trekking through a large field, followed by a steady climb up a hill that never fails to make him short of breath. With his weakened body and the inches-deep snow against him, it will probably take him half an hour at least. Pulling his scarf over his nose, Chanyeol marches forward, eager to reach his destination as soon as possible.

The house in question is one of the most beautiful buildings in the whole village. It used to belong to a wealthy muggle, but a fire some years before Chanyeol was born meant that it had been abandoned long before the Do’s moved in just over a decade ago. It’s massive, three stories of grey brick and stone, adorned by emerald ivy and sweet smelling wisteria that blooms in shades of lilac and violet during the summer. In the winter it stands like a snow covered beacon, icicles hanging from the drainpipes and holly sprouting along the bushes that line the front door. It sits on a hill at the edge of the village, surrounded by a thick patch of forest that separates the area from a larger town towards the north.

By the time he spies the tip of the roof peeping above the trees in the distance, Chanyeol can no longer feel his toes. The parts of his face that aren’t hidden beneath the warmth of his scarf are nipped red and raw, and snow clings to his eyelashes, fogging his vision slightly. He’s glad he didn’t put his glasses on this morning, as they would surely be fogged up from all his huffing and puffing, especially after climbing that hill. He can count on both hands the amount of times he almost slipped over. Kyungsoo had better be home today, else he will surely keel over and die from all the energy it took to reach him.

As he approaches the front gate, Chanyeol starts to doubt himself. What if Kyungsoo isn’t home today? What if he’s spending the holidays at someone else’s house this year? What if he doesn’t even live here anymore? He finds himself pausing with his hand on the gate, hesitant to move any further. It just goes to show how much Chanyeol has removed himself from Kyungsoo’s life, pushed the distance between them to the point that he isn’t sure where he even lives anymore. It takes a whole lot of internal reassurance to force himself through the gate, stepping onto the driveway as his stomach churns with uncertainty.

He heads towards the back of the house. The polite thing to do would be to knock on the front door, but that nervous voice in his head keeps reminding him that he hasn’t seen or interacted with Kyungsoo’s family since they were eleven years old. For all he knows, Kyungsoo could have told them everything about what has happened between them. What if his mother opens the door, or heaven forbid, his older brother? That’s a situation he wants to avoid at all costs. Squeezing through a gap in the bushes, Chanyeol makes his way through the sprawling back garden, counting the windows of the second floor before he finds himself standing below what he believes to be Kyungsoo’s bedroom window.

Feeling the crunch of gravel under his feet, Chanyeol bends down to brush away the snow and grab a handful of the little jagged stones, rolling them around in his palm. Double checking that he has the right window (if he remembers correctly, Kyungsoo’s bedroom is the second room on the right side of the second floor, thus the leftmost window from Chanyeol’s view of the back of the house), he takes a piece of gravel in his fingers and throws it as hard as he can towards the glass. It bounces off the wall just a few inches away from where he was aiming. Chanyeol picks up another stone and tries again, this time hitting the glass just off the edge of the frame.

He pauses for a moment. Nothing happens. No one comes up to the window. Frowning, Chanyeol throws another stone, followed by another. There is no movement behind the glass, no rustling of the curtains. The lack of reaction only makes him try harder, and his arm starts to ache as he pelts even more pieces of gravel at the window, eager for something to happen.

He’s on his last stone, arm above his head as he readies himself for the final throw, when the curtains behind the window suddenly open, halting Chanyeol in his tracks. He drops the gravel, breath freezing in his lungs as finally, after so long of waiting, the window slides upwards and a round head sticks out, scowling down at the ground from above.

“Seungsoo, what the do you think you’re-”

His sentence never finishes. Kyungsoo’s scowl fades immediately, shifting from annoyance to utter shock as he takes in the sight of Chanyeol stood alone in his back garden. His mouth drops open and his eyes widen so much that Chanyeol can see the whites from all the way down on the ground. He looks like he’s still in his pyjamas, and his short hair is ruffled on one side. He must have been asleep when Chanyeol arrived. No wonder it took so long for him to respond.

Time seems to stop. A bomb could drop at that very second and neither of them would notice. The snow seems to hover in the air as Chanyeol takes a step back, entirely overwhelmed at the sight of the other boy above him. He’d forgotten how handsome Kyungsoo is, with his round cheeks and angled jaw, round glasses perched on the edge of his nose. In the light of the barely-rising sun, his skin looks golden, sunkissed and smooth. Even with all this distance between them, Chanyeol can’t help but feel breathless, unable to look away. His stomach writhes like it’s full of eels as he lifts his hand and gives a small wave, heart pounding like a drum in his chest.

“Hi,” he croaks.

Almost immediately after the word leaves his mouth, Kyungsoo slams his window shut.

Oh. Okay. If he’s being entirely honest with himself, Chanyeol had expected that. After the he’s pulled across the years, it’s no wonder Kyungsoo doesn’t want anything to do with him. It doesn’t stop his insides from shrivelling up like a crushed spider, however. Dropping his hand, Chanyeol sighs pitifully and kicks the snow around his feet, scattering the gravel hidden beneath. It really was a dumb idea coming here, he berates himself in his head.

He stands in the garden for a few minutes, unsure of what to do with himself. He’s just started to make his way back towards the front of the house when a creaking sound has him stopping in his tracks. He turns around in time to see Kyungsoo close his back door of his house behind him, bundled up in a black coat and scarf, barely visible in the darkness of the early morning. Chanyeol’s palms start to sweat nervously as he approaches.

When Kyungsoo comes to a stop in front of him, Chanyeol swears his heart stops working. The plan he had constructed on his long walk here goes completely out the window as his mind goes blank. Kyungsoo is just an arms length away, the closest he’s been since he tutored him last year, and there’s nothing Chanyeol can do or say to drown out the thousands of thoughts running through his head. His mouth is dry and his knees feel like they’re made of jelly. It’s now or never. He needs to say something before it’s too late.

“Hi,” he chokes out.

Arching an eyebrow, Kyungsoo stares up at him with a frown. “What are you doing here?” he asks shortly, and oh, his voice is so deep from having just woken up that it sends a buzz of electricity shooting down Chanyeol’s spine. He shrugs his shoulders in an attempt to hide his shiver, shuffling on his feet awkwardly.

“I want to talk to you. It’s important.”

The other boy doesn’t respond immediately. His brow drops and he blinks up at the taller boy for a second, but other than that there is no sign that he’s considering Chanyeol’s plea. His face is blank behind his glasses, unreadable. Chanyeol grows restless, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth as the quiet stretches on.

Finally, Kyungsoo sighs, sounding defeated, like he’s lost a battle with himself in his head. “Okay,” he says, and Chanyeol finally relaxes, smiling his thanks. It would have been so easy to tell him to eat and get lost, but he didn’t, and for that he is eternally grateful. He takes a step towards the house before a hand is shoved into his chest, making him falter.

“Not here,” the Slytherin says cautiously. Looking back at the house, Kyungsoo lowers his hand, taking a step back. Chanyeol watches him curiously as he turns around and starts walking towards the bottom of the garden, briefing a glance over his shoulder to encourage him to follow. Chanyeol does, dragging his numb feet through the snow as they make their way through the maze of flowerbeds and shrubbery, all smothered in a brilliant bright white.

Perhaps it’s the dark, or the fact that he was a child the last time ventured this deep into Kyungsoo’s back garden, but Chanyeol has no idea where they’re going. Kyungsoo’s garden is the size of a public park, full of twists and turns and odd little statues that seem to move when you look away, and Chanyeol cannot for the life of him recall which part of it they’re in. He glances back at the house every now and then, growing steadily more worried as it shrinks in the distance. Where on earth is Kyungsoo taking him?

It’s only when they reach the edge of the garden, shadowed by the giant trees of the forest that loom over them, that Chanyeol finally realises where they are.

Nestled on the branch of a great oak tree sits a treehouse. The treehouse, the one they built together with the help of Kyungsoo’s dad when they were kids. Gasping, Chanyeol skips ahead, letting out an excited laugh as he approaches the crooked structure.

“No way!” he laughs, grinning at the flood of good memories that come back to him. “This is still here?” He reaches out a hand to touch the aging wood. It seems to tingle under his gloved fingertips, creaking slightly, like it recognises him. It must be enchanted for it to have lasted this long against the elements, especially the long, harsh winters England has been having recently. "Can we go inside?"

When he gets no reply, he turns around to see Kyungsoo staring at him. The sudden attention seems to startle him, and he nods his head stiffly, looking at everything but Chanyeol himself. His cheeks are red, from the cold or embarrassment, Chanyeol isn’t sure. Pulling his hand back, Chanyeol brushes down the snow that has gathered on his hat and gingerly climbs up the ladder, careful not to slip on the frost that has laced its way across the steps and railings.

The inside has changed a lot since the last time Chanyeol was there. It’s bigger - again, enchanted - and his head only just misses the ceiling as he pushes open the door and pulls himself inside, shivering at the sudden temperature change as warmth surrounds him. When he was a kid, the walls were covered in movie posters and stickers, chocolate frog cards and anything else the two boys thought were cool to collect at the time. That’s all gone now, replaced with neatly organised bookshelves and Slytherin banners, held up with well placed sticking charms no doubt. A sofa has been pushed against the far wall between two side tables, worn in one particular spot on the side closest to the window, and in the opposite corner is a little kitchenette, complete with a kettle and jars containing tea, sugar, and chocolate biscuits. Besides the door are a couple of coat pegs, and Chanyeol shrugs his coat and scarf off to hang them up, tucking his hat and gloves in his coat pockets before moving out of the way of the door in time for Kyungsoo to climb up inside behind him.

“You’ve upgraded,” he says, bending down to unlace his boots. Kyungsoo doesn’t answer as he closes the door and hangs up his own coat, forgoing removing his shoes completely to walk over to the kitchenette and turn the kettle on. Chanyeol uses the moment of distraction to look around, eyes searching for anything that may have stayed the same in his childhood hideout.

The rug on the floor is still the same, only a little worn down and fraying at the corners, and the blanket that they used to snuggle under as they read the latest muggle comic has been folded over the back of the sofa. There’s also the stain on the ceiling from when Kyungsoo ‘borrowed’ his mother’s potion kit to brew a cure for Chanyeol’s cold, only to have the whole thing explode and cover everything in sticky grey goo. The memory has him biting the inside of his cheek, smothering a laugh that would surely gain him no favours.

The sound of a throat being cleared pulls Chanyeol from his reverie. He turns around to see Kyungsoo holding out a steaming mug of tea towards him. Smiling his thanks, Chanyeol steps forwards to take it, letting the steam heat up his chilled face before taking a sip. He hums in satisfaction, slurping another mouthful of the sweet liquid before putting his mug down on one of the side tables. “That’s just what I needed. Thank you.”

Kyungsoo shrugs his shoulders. “No problem.” He turns back to the kitchenette to grab his own drink, leaning back against the counter.

The awkwardness that had briefly dissipated fizzes back quickly. It’s almost suffocating, and Chanyeol feels another migraine coming on, pressure pulsating behind his eyes. He notices the way Kyungsoo nibbles on his bottom lip, the plumpness turning pink as he works at it nervously. Chanyeol thinks of something to say, anything to break the silence that floats around them like smoke.

"How’s your holiday been so far?"

It’s a terrible way to start the conversation. Kyungsoo blinks at him over his tea. "Fine,” he says. “How’s yours?"

"Good. Not much has happened, really. I’ve had Baekhyun and Jongdae round to keep me company, but I’m still not quite up to shape yet so there’s not been much for us to do."

He doesn’t miss the way Kyungsoo flinches. "You shouldn't be out here in this weather,” he frowns from behind his mug. “You could get sick."

Chanyeol lets out a little chuckle. "You sound like mum,” he says fondly, picking up his mug again to help heat up his hands. “She's been on me like a hawk, won't let me do anything by myself. Baek and Dae are the same. I swear this is the first time I've been outside since September. I had to fight my way out the house just to get here."

"They’re right to be worried. You should be spending time with your family."

It’s funny, Chanyeol thinks, that even though he’s showed up unannounced, dragged the boy away from his family and invaded his personal space, Kyungsoo still takes the time to care. “Probably,” he smiles, perhaps a little too fondly for his own good. “I’d much rather be here instead, though.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Kyungsoo sighs, turning his back to put him as he puts his mug on the counter. He sounds tired, looks tired. Chanyeol doesn’t push his luck, and the awkward silence returns, stretching on for what seems like an eternity.

"What do you want, Chanyeol?" Kyungsoo says finally.

If he’s being honest with himself, Chanyeol doesn’t know what he wants. He wants the truth and he wants forgiveness, but overall, he thinks he just wants Kyungsoo to look at him. Hesitantly, he steps towards the other boy, coming up behind him. His hands shake worriedly as he takes one of Kyungsoo’s in his own, half expecting him to shove him off and throw him out of the treehouse in one fell swoop. But Kyungsoo doesn’t do that; he leans into the touch, a quiet sigh filtering from his lips as Chanyeol gently coaxes him around to face him.

Kyungsoo’s hand is soft. It shouldn’t be, when there are potion burns and scars faded across his palm and knuckles, all the way up past his wrists, marring the surface of his skin. But as Chanyeol rubs his fingers across it, he feels nothing but smoothness, the complete opposite of Chanyeol’s own, which are bony and chapped, calloused from years of guitar and quidditch. He tries not to focus on how their palms slot together so nicely as he leads the other away from the counter, pulling him over to the sofa.

There’s a reluctance to the way Kyungsoo sits down, but he does so anyway. Chanyeol is thankful, plopping himself down next to him and rearranging himself so that he’s facing the other boy as much as he can without slipping off. Their knees bump into each other uncomfortably, but it’ll have to do. This isn’t a conversation Chanyeol thinks he can have standing up, that’s for sure.

Letting go of Kyungsoo’s hand, Chanyeol steals himself, pausing to think. This is his one chance to get everything off his chest, to take down the walls he’s built around himself. One wrong move and he might as well have never woken up. He tries not to let the pressure of Kyungsoo’s burning gaze get to him as he clears his throat and takes a deep breath.

"I want to say I'm sorry."

It’s clearly not what the other had been expecting. Kyungsoo’s furrowed brow smoothes out and his mouth drops open a little, surprised. "What?” he asks, disbelief evident in his tone. He looks confused if anything. The fact that this is his reaction is telling. Chanyeol rearranges himself on the sofa, knees wobbling anxiously.

"I'm sorry. For everything. For everything I did and everything I said. It wasn't fair for me to treat you that way, to ignore you the way I did."

It’s something he should have years ago. While it was only today that he fully realised how important the other boy is in his life, he knows that everything he’s about to say has been a long time coming. There’s no time like the present, but as he thinks carefully of his next words, Chanyeol fears that it may be too late.

"I was jealous of you,” he admits finally. “You're so intelligent and talented, but still so thoughtful and kind. Everyone who meets you falls head over heels. When we were kids, you were my rich friend that did everything right, and I was always getting into trouble and ruining everything. Mum and Yoora were always talking about you. It sounds so dumb, but it got to the point that I was afraid they preferred you over me. I started to turn my back to you, even before we left for school. It just sort of escalated from there.”

Kyungsoo’s family moved to the their village when they were five years old. As the only wizarding families in the area, it was only a matter of time before they found themselves at each other’s sides. The muggle children didn’t understand the things they talked about, were scared of strange and unexplainable things they could do. They had no choice but to stick together. As they got older, and Kyungsoo displayed more talents and grew so much more handsome, Chanyeol had no one else to turn to, not even his mum and sister, when these feelings of prepubescent inadequacy started to spread like vines around his ankles, tying him down.

“When I started Hogwarts, and I met Baekhyun and Jongdae, people who were as much of a mess as I was, I felt like I actually belonged somewhere, you know? I wasn’t the only rough-around-the-edges kid in town. It was a fresh start for me, and I was terrified of ruining it. I never introduced them to you because I was so worried they would choose you over me. I was so obsessed with fitting in and finding a place that I completely forgot that I already had one."

The expression on Kyungsoo’s face is one he can’t place. His head is tilted, eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights, but one that is staring down its fate rather than running away. Curiosity mingles with the trepidation in his eyes. Chanyeol has never been able to read Kyungsoo confidently, especially now, when it counts more than ever. His brain scrambles to interpret, but his thoughts are cut short by the gentle touch of fingertips pressing lightly against his thigh.

"You were…jealous of me?"

His touch seems to burn. Chanyeol nods his head shamefully. "I'm not proud of it,” he says, looking down to pick at his fingernails. “Every time you got complimented in class, I got so annoyed. I took all your achievements personally, because I rarely got any myself. Me doing badly wasn't because I spent all my time fannying about in class, or because the topic was too hard for me, it was because you were getting all the attention. Perfect Kyungsoo being perfect again.” He scoffs bitterly, words sour on his tongue even as he says it. “Merlin, I can't believe how childish that is. You deserved so much more respect than that. You still do."

He can remember the vinegar that boiled in his chest whenever Kyungsoo did well enough to garner praise. He’s competitive by nature, aggressively so in some cases, but nothing riled him up more than the sight of the professors’ beaming faces upon discovering Kyungsoo’s beautifully crafted potions or expertly written essays. Jealousy is the only word for it, bitter and green, like the banners that glare at him on the walls of the treehouse. It was worse in potions, where the Slytherin excelled, knocking every other student in their year out of the park, and Chanyeol failed pitifully. He was too proud to admit that he was impressed, too envious to focus on developing his own skills. He did nothing but sit and scowl, building walls that kept him in as much as they kept Kyungsoo out.

It was manageable when Jongdae and Baekhyun were with him, likewise struggling to create anything of worth during those long, long lessons. But then the incident in fifth year happened, the explosion and the two-metre long neck, and all those feelings of inadequacy bubbled over, burning through him like acid through the bottom of a pewter cauldron.

"You know, I never even told my friends you were tutoring me.” He closes his eyes, pausing to breathe through his shame. “I was so embarrassed, so mortified that the person I despised was going to be teaching me that I just told everyone I was having lessons with the professor. Can you believe that? They wouldn't care at all, but I didn't say anything. I was just so...angry. And I took that anger out on you, because I was too stupid and insecure and spineless to accept that you were just trying to help me.”

Chanyeol was horrible, really, really horrible, during those tutoring sessions. It’s not that he was mean, said nasty things to poke at the places he knew Kyungsoo was weakest, or was aggressive in any way. He just didn’t try. He didn’t want to try, didn’t want to improve in any way, as that meant that Kyungsoo would succeed in his position as tutor. The afternoon he left the professor’s office with an after-hours tutoring slip scrunched up in his hand, he made it his mission to see Kyungsoo fail at something for once. It didn’t matter that his O.W.L was on the line, or that the dark spots under Kyungsoo’s eyes grew deeper after every session. He was determined to have the upper hand. Whatever it took.

“I let you down,” he says, more to himself than to the boy beside him. “All because I was too prideful to realise what I was doing to you. To us."

The worst thing about it all was that Chanyeol was doomed for failure. There’s a reason they became friends in the first place, all those years ago. Kyungsoo is everlastingly patient. He’s cunning and ambitious, cutthroat when necessary, but also kind, empathetic, and undoubtedly long-suffering. As kids they balanced each other out, the half-blood with a muggle mum and the pure-blood who everyone feared, big hands to fight away bullies and small ones to put plasters over the cuts and grazes he gathered in the process.

During those short hours together, Kyungsoo countered Chanyeol’s protests at every turn, pushed and pulled and pushed again, played Chanyeol like a fiddle with steady hands and delicate reassurance that one day he would understand. It might take a while, but he will be able to do well if he just tries. It didn’t take long for Chanyeol to find himself at crossroads, torn between making Kyungsoo’s life miserable and the realisation that he was actually doing well under his tutelage, crafting potions left and right and excelling in places he never thought he could.

In just a couple months, his thoughts about Kyungsoo had changed. Friendship was starting to blossom again for the first time since they were eleven. But like most things in his life that seem to be going okay, Chanyeol had to go and ruin it with one irredeemable mistake.

"You did so much for me, and I just tossed it away. I didn't realise how important you are to me until it was too late. That day, in the potions room… I was so angry at myself. I made you hate me. I pushed you to the point where you couldn't stand to be anywhere near me. It's the biggest mistake I've ever made."

The memory of that night - the hypnotising scents of petrichor, clean cotton, and ginger, swirling around him like a thick fog, clouding his mind of consequence; the sound of Kyungsoo’s tear filled mouth spitting his name like a curse; the feeling of his trembling heart as he stormed out of the potions classroom, away from what would be their very last session together - has Chanyeol’s words catching in his throat. He didn’t realise how much pain he had caused in having all this hatred inside of him, both to Kyungsoo and himself. How much of his life has he wasted because he was too selfish to admit that he was in the wrong? A tightness prickles at his throat, bringing tears to his eyes that he wipes away hurriedly with the back of his hand.

"But I guess what I'm most sorry for is the fact I lied to you. I promised that we would always be best friends, no matter what. And I broke that promise. So I'm sorry. I hope you never forgive me for that."

Silence fills the treehouse, broken only by Chanyeol’s sniffling. Winter birds whistle outside and the snow keeps falling, and Chanyeol feels like he’s falling with it, waiting with his eyes glued shut for Kyungsoo to take his bared heart and tear it into a million pieces right in front of him. Not that he deserves any less. He probably deserves more. The Slytherin could throw him out into the perishing cold with nothing but the clothes on his back and Chanyeol wouldn’t bat an eye. The knowledge that the person he loves hates him would be more than enough to pay back the years of torment he unknowingly caused.

Oh Merlin. Chanyeol is in love with Kyungsoo. He really does deserve to be thrown out into the snow.

A hand reaches out and curls around his own. Squeezing it gently, Chanyeol unscrews his face and looks up for the first time in minutes. Kyungsoo’s gaze is unreadable, as always, but there’s a tenderness there in the deep brown of his eyes and the gentle slope of his cupids bow that has Chanyeol’s heart stuttering in his chest. He loses himself for a moment, stumbling over the trainwreck of thoughts in his head as Kyungsoo holds his hand and fixes him with a questioning stare, lips pressed into a thin line.

"Why now?” the Slytherin asks. “Why are you saying these things now?"

It takes a second for him to respond. "A brush with death sort of puts things into perspective, I guess. Being bedridden has left me with a lot of time to think about things.” He squeezes his hand, and miraculously, Kyungsoo squeezes back. “These years at school have been the happiest of my life. But they would have been twice as happy if you were in them too."

He doesn’t know when it started, but when tears start to drip down his cheeks, pooling under his chin and staining his sweater, Kyungsoo reacts almost instantly, pulling him towards him. Chanyeol wraps his arms around him, soaking in warmth, and a hand rubs his back slowly as he clings to Kyungsoo’s pyjama shirt. It takes a whole lot of self control for Chanyeol not to collapse entirely. He shudders in Kyungsoo’s embrace, burying his head into his shoulder as his own guilt tears him into a thousand pieces.

“I know what you did, Soo,” Chanyeol whispers to him. “To save me. It must have been really hard for you, but you did it anyway. Even after everything I put you through. You’re the bravest person I know. I don’t know if I can thank you enough.”

The hands in his sweater tighten. “I couldn’t just let you die.” Chanyeol doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he just holds on tighter, squeezing the fabric between his fingers even harder.

They sit like that for a while. It doesn’t take long for the tears to subside, but neither of them make any effort to move. The snow has died down a little, has thinned out in the time that has passed, and Chanyeol watches it fall through a nearby window, ignoring the way his heart flutters at the feeling of Kyungsoo pressed so closely to him, tiny and firm.

Eventually, Kyungsoo moves away. A wave of cold is left in his wake, and Chanyeol does his best to hide his disappointment, wiping his eyes. Kyungsoo brushes him sweater down, and, to Chanyeol’s complete and utter surprise, starts to laugh.

“I can’t believe that you were jealous of me,” he chuckles, heaving a tired sigh. “And here I was, all this time, operating under the impression that I was only bitter one between the two of us.”

His words catch Chanyeol of guard. "What?" he stutters, unsure if he heard him correctly. “Why?”

Smile fading, Kyungsoo fixes him with an arched brow. "You're funny, and handsome, and people like you. You’re charming and charismatic. You get along with everyone.” He sighs again, somewhat melancholic. “You have great friends who love and care for you. I never really had that. I envied you so much because of it.”

Chanyeol has no idea how to react. It seems to be a thing now, for the Slytherin to leave him at a loss for words. “What about Sehun? And Jongin, and Zitao?” he says, struggling to remember how to speak.

“They were just like everyone else at first. They’d heard the stories of my grandpa and were too afraid to go near me.” He pauses, nibbling on his bottom lip. “In second year, I got beat up by some older kids and ended up in detention because they said I started it. Sehun was there, and that’s how we became friends. Now that I think about it, if it wasn’t for those kids I probably wouldn’t have any friends at all.”

A weight drops in Chanyeol’s stomach. "You were bullied?" he asks, mouth going dry.

Kyungsoo shrugs his shoulders. "Not really,” he replies, but his body is stiff, tense like a spring that’s struggling to keep itself flat. “They left in third year so it wasn't so bad."

If there’s another reason for Chanyeol to hate himself, to despise the person he was back then, this would be it. "I’m so sorry, Soo,” he stutters, voice cracking in his throat. “I should have been there for you, I should have made sure you were safe."

He receives a smile in reply, but it’s weak and half-hearted. "You wouldn't have been able to do anything," Kyungsoo says shortly. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

"That's not the point. It doesn’t matter if I could have done something or not. I should have been there."

"Well it's a bit late for that now, isn't it."

Chanyeol slams his mouth shut. He didn’t mean to upset the other boy. He just feels so guilty, so angry at himself for letting things go this far. He instinctively leans back, giving the other space.

There’s a brief pause. "Sorry,” Kyungsoo mumbles. “I shouldn't have snapped. It's not your fault."

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I do. I have lots to be sorry for.” He coughs lightly to clear his throat, nibbling on his bottom lip as he stares at his lap. “I did and said things to you I regret as well. I'm sorry for not trying harder to keep you around. I should have fought to be your friend, but I didn't. And I'm sorry for lying as well. Back then, I told you that I hated you. It wasn't true. It's quite the opposite actually.”

He lets out a nervous laugh, lifting a hand to run it through his hair. “Although you probably already know that, seeing as you're...you know...”

"I know.”

It’s the first time they’ve acknowledged what they are. Kyungsoo’s cheeks turn rosey, lips pink from biting on them so much. His hair is ruffled slightly, and he’s beautiful. So, so beautiful. Chanyeol can’t believe he let all this go. In a perfect world, he would close the distance between them and kiss the frown from Kyungsoo’s face, hold him in his arms and whisper into him all the things he know he cannot say. Is this an after-effect of the potion, this desire that leaves him feeling breathless? Or has he always felt this way? He doesn’t know, and he sits still, forcing down the urge to take Kyungsoo’s hand again, fearing that if he does, he will never be able to let go.

"I can’t forgive you,” Kyungsoo sighs, voice just above a whisper. “Not just yet. You really hurt me, Chanyeol. You made me feel things I never want to feel ever again. As much as I want to forget that it all happened, I can’t.”

“I understand,” Chanyeol says, even though it hurts. “I’m so sorry.”

“But…” There’s a pause, and Chanyeol can almost hear his heart as it starts to pound against his chest. “I’m willing to try. I can’t forget what happened then, but I also can’t ignore what’s happening now. Especially since you’re my...well, you know. It’ll be hard, I mean, to leave things as they are.”

A hippogriff could burst through the door right now and perform the entirety of Celestina Warbeck’s greatest hits with nothing but a kazoo and Chanyeol would barely even notice. He can’t believe that this is happening, that despite everything, Kyungsoo is willing to try. He’s willing to give Chanyeol a second chance, to let him redeem himself. Chanyeol can barely breathe as he takes in the sight of the boy beside him, struggling to hold back a smile as he thanks whatever higher beings there are out there for the opportunity to show Kyungsoo that this is a decision he will not regret.

Kyungsoo wants to try. He doesn’t forgive him, but he wants to try. It’s far more than he could ever ask for, perhaps even far more than he deserves, and he loves Kyungsoo so, so much, so much that he might just vomit all over his shoes if he doesn’t say something.

"I was thinking,” he stutters, “that maybe, if you want, we could start over? Takes things slow and see how it goes. We don't have to jump into anything, I don't expect that from you at all. But I just… I miss you. So, so much. I want to be your friend again. And just being your friend, for me, is enough to last me a lifetime."

There’s no logic or reason to his actions when he leans forward, taking Kyungsoo’s hands in his own for the third time that morning. Unbelievably, the other boy lets him, squeezing his fingers in a silent but comforting reply. For a moment Chanyeol believes that he’s still asleep, stuck in a dream that simply cannot be true.

His heart seems to skip a beat as Kyungsoo looks up at him, eyes wide and glistening as his lips stretch into the most beautiful smile he has ever seen.

"Okay,” Kyungsoo says, and he’s brighter than the moon and stars combined. “I’d like that."

They spend the rest of the morning like that, side by side in the tree house they built together, just the two of them. Kyungsoo makes them more tea, the first pair having gone stone cold during their long conversation, and they curl up under the old blanket and talk about anything and everything that comes to their minds. They’re far too big to fit under it anymore, but neither of them mind. It’s nice, familiar, and while there’s still tension, still an awkwardness that leaks through the cracks like a draught whenever someone says something that hits too close to home, they do their best to fight through it, to reel themselves in and start again.

Eventually, of course, they do have to leave. The sound of Kyungsoo’s brother shouting his name in the distance urges them back out into the snow, teeth chattering and toes turning numb in the chilling cold. Enough time has passed that Chanyeol’s mum and his two friends should be awake by now too, no doubt scrambling around the house, wondering where he is. They can stand to wait a little longer, Chanyeol thinks, smiling as Kyungsoo leads the way down the garden paths. They walk together in silence, their gloved hands brushing against each other, and the rising sun shines down on them through the trees and bushes, illuminating everything in a soft yellow glow.

Suddenly, just as the ground changes from grass to gravel, Kyungsoo stops, freezing mid step like a statue. Chanyeol, too busy watching a robin hop around on a nearby bush, crashes into him, stumbling over his feet as he attempts to stop himself from falling over on the slippery ice.

“Why did you stop?” he asks as Kyungsoo turns around. There’s snowflakes stuck to his nose and eyelashes, and Chanyeol wants to brush them off for him. He doesn’t get the chance to, however, as Kyungsoo steps forward, pushes himself up onto his tiptoes, and, before he has any time to react, pulls Chanyeol down to meet him.

It catches him by surprise, the kiss. Chanyeol takes a moment to realise what’s happening before he practically melts, sighing against Kyungsoo’s lips like he’s breathing for the first time in his life. Kyungsoo responds in kind, folding himself against the other like he belongs there, has always belonged there. They move together, wrapping their arms around each other instinctively, and the rest of the world fades away until they’re all that’s left, soft and wet and euphoric as the snow falls down around them.

Kyungsoo tastes like toothpaste, mild and minty. His lips are cold, but his mouth is warm, and Chanyeol leans into it, lifting his gloved hands to wrap them around Kyungsoo’s neck and pull him closer. A moan slips out from between them, but Chanyeol doesn’t know who it belongs to. All he knows is that he’s trembling - whether from the cold, nerves, or something else entirely, he isn’t sure - and the only thing stopping him from disintegrating on the spot is the feeling of Kyungsoo’s arms wrapped around his waist, steadying his racing heart.

They part with a quiet gasp. Kyungsoo drops from his tiptoes and Chanyeol goes with him, leaning their foreheads together. “I thought we were taking it slow?” he smiles, biting back a laugh as the blush on Kyungsoo’s cheeks spreads all the way up to the tips of his ears.

“We are,” he replies, voice soft like summer rain. “But let’s just have this. Just for us. Just for now.”

It’ll be a long time before things go back to the way they were. It could take months, years even. Maybe they’ll never go back. They’re taking so many chances, risking so much for an end that may never be reached. But nothing else matters, not as long as they try. And that, at least for them, if enough to last them a lifetime.

They meet each other halfway. For those few moments, Chanyeol lets himself forget, lets himself feel small in Kyungsoo’s embrace for just a few moments longer. For once in his life, everything is good. Chanyeol is almost certain that this is all a dream.

He hopes that this is one he will never wake up from.

guys....it's officially over... i can't believe we're finally here TT

it's been over a year since i first posted this story and it's been a rocky ride since day one. the reason this particular chapter has taken so long to get out is because well...i'm just really at managing my time lmao. I got a job and started my third year of uni and everything sort of happened at once. but it's done now, and i can finally focus on other projects that have been dying for my attention for months now ><

some of you will be happy to know i'm already planning a sequel! however it's in a very very rough draft phase and probably won't be uploaded for a long while. it may never get uploaded at all as i'm ready to put this au to bed for a bit to clear my head tbh, but we'll have to see. if demand is high enough i'm sure i'll get my together and post smth soon lol

this chapter went through like 25 different drafts, it really has been a rough ride. please tell me what you think!! i hope the end has met your expectations and i hope to see you all soon. thank you so much for all the lovely comments and feedback you've been giving me, it really means a lot to see something i've worked so hard on receive lots of love from you guys <3

as always, feel free to come yell at me on tumblr or in the comments if you have any questions or simply just want to scream about stuff, i always reply and i'm always up for a chat!