The flapping of the owls’ wings was louder than Minho remembered. It echoed across the Great Hall and was greeted by the muffled, yet excited, sounds of students from every table. Minho, however, paid the owls no mind. Instead, he yawned around the rim of his pumpkin juice, frowning when a little of the warmly spiced juice dribbled down his chin. He wiped it away with the back of his hand and yawned again as he spread strawberry jam over his toast. 

A flutter of wings and charcoal feathers landed before him. He glanced across the table to see what Travis got from his parents. The charcoal owl let out a faint hoot and Minho blinked when he recognized the sound.

Geum-nan?

Sure enough, there she sat, staring expectantly at Minho with her wide, golden eyes. He sat frozen, waiting for her to move. Was…was she just an apparition?
“Dude…” Minho bit off a piece of his toast and leaned a little closer to Gilbert. “Is that your owl?” 

He blinked and Geum-nan blinked in reply before she flapped her wings. “I…I think so.” He dropped his toast on his plate and wiped his fingers off on his sweater before he patted her head. “Thank you, Geum-nan,” he told her in quiet Korean before she flew away, leaving a letter behind.

“Who’s it from?” Travis asked around his mouth full of food. 

Minho picked up the letter and flipped it over to find his mom’s familiar penmanship. “My parents.” A smile stretched across his face as he stood abruptly and looked across the hall to the Slytherin table. “Save me a spot in class, okay?”

“Sure thing!” 

Seemingly half of the student body was finished with their breakfast and already on their way to their next class. Minho dodged and weaved through them all as he hurried to Kibum’s table. Once there, Minho plopped down beside him, slightly breathless from his efforts. 

“Morning!” Kibum said, smirking when Minho leaned back against the edge of the table. “Tired already?” 

“Shut up. No.” He waved the unopened letter between them, sighing heavily as he caught his breath. “It's from my parents.” 

The fork in Kibum’s hand clattered against his plate as he turned to inspect the letter for himself. “Why haven’t you opened it yet?”

“I don’t know. Wanted to show you first, I guess.” 

Kibum let out an amused huff and smacked his arm lightly. “Well, open it, Choi.”

Slowly, Minho tore open the letter. After a full school year of no contact whatsoever, he found himself hesitant to see what they would have to say. His breath hitched as he slipped the letter out of the envelope. Would they wish him good luck for the upcoming school year? Did his dad find more things to say about Quidditch? Kibum pressed his shoulder against Minho’s, leaning in to read the letter as Minho opened it.

Minho, 

Your father and I have given it some more thought, and we have decided that you can try out for Quidditch. If you get accepted then that’s good. If you don’t, then you have your answer on the subject. Since you know more about the game, please use your best judgment as you consider trying out. 

We trust that you had a safe trip to school. Hopefully, you’ll have another successful year. Be sure to keep up on your studies, and don’t waste too much time on Quidditch. School is more important than sports. 

Make sure to write us when you can, and we will do the same. 

Love, 

Mom and Dad and Minseok ^^

“I can’t believe it...” 

Kibum scoffed quietly as he leaned away, turning back to his plate. “Me neither.”

Grinning, Minho turned to him. “I can try out! I...they...I wasn’t expecting this.” Kibum nodded, pushing a chunk of scrambled egg around in the syrup on his plate. “Will you come with me? To the tryouts, I mean.” He blinked and set his fork down. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just...I -- “

“Of course.” 

“ -- really, oh...” His voice trailed off as he glanced over at Kibum and found him smiling. “Thanks.” 

“Do you know when the tryout starts?” 

Minho shrugged as he slipped his parents’ letter back into the envelope. “Tanner mentioned something about it this morning, but I wasn’t listening. I’ll find out.”

Kibum’s laugh was cut short by the bell. The remaining students in the Hall scrambled to finish their breakfast before they left for their first class. After one last bite of toast, Kibum shoved his plate away and followed Minho back over to the Hufflepuff table. “What’s your first class?”

“Transfiguration.” He was about to ask which was Kibum’s first class, but based on the way his expression lit up, he had his answer. The bell rang a second time and Minho snatched his backpack. He hooked one strap over his shoulder before he pushed Kibum ahead of him as he started to run. “We’ve got to hurry. You know how Crowell feels about students being late.” 

“, you’re right.” Kibum darted out ahead of him, but Minho caught up to him by the door when he stopped. His hands squeezed his sides as he stooped over slightly. 

“Already out of breath?” 

“Shut up, I’m not athletic like you.” He took a deep breath, chuckling a little as he let it out. “Which classroom this time?” Minho fished his schedule out of his robe pocket and handed it to Kibum. “Thank Merlin, it’s Class 1.”

They stepped into the mass of students congregating outside of the Great Hall and meandered their way through the crowd. It dissipated as they made their way down the corridor to Class 1 and Kibum stopped at the open door, gesturing for Minho to enter first.

"Why, thank you," Minho said, bowing.

Kibum laughed and pushed him into the classroom, following him to one of the empty desks. 

* * * * * * * * * *

“How much time do we have until dinner?” 

Kibum leaned against the wall and shook his head. “Dunno. You wanna work on homework together?”

Minho hummed. “I guess.”

“I mean, we could always start after dinner, but -- “ 

“Minho!” Kibum stopped and peered over Minho’s shoulder as he turned to see who called him. It was only Marvin. “Aren’t you gonna try out?”

“Yeah...when does it start?”

“Right now!” Marvin nodded toward the door, prompting Minho and Kibum to follow him. “Remember? Tanner said he drew the short straw this morning.” 

“Oh, right.” Martin took the steps two at a time, while Minho hung back with Kibum. “You’re sure you want to come with me? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I know you probably have other -- “ 

“Hey,” Kibum said with a laugh. “Don’t worry about it. If I wanted to be doing something else, I would be. I -- “ want to hang out with you, his brain supplied. He was cut off when Marvin popped back into view at the doorway of the stairwell. 

“Come on, we don’t want to be late!” 

Minho turned to Kibum, his expression sort of pained. Clearly, he was torn between walking with Kibum and hurrying to the pitch. Smiling, Kibum patted his back. “Go on, I’ll be down there soon.” With a single nod, Minho followed Marvin, their heavy footfalls echoing in the corridor as they ran.

A cool summer breeze rustled through the heather adorning the lawn. The sun shone behind puffy clouds, lining the edges in gold. Petrichor still perfumed the air from the morning rain. Kibum side-stepped several mud puddles as he made his way to the Quidditch pitch. 

Marvin and Minho were already in the Hufflepuff hallway below the stands -- probably getting changed into their gear -- and Kibum started up the steps to his and Minho’s favorite spot in the bleachers. 

Minho and Marvin were standing together on the pitch, and Minho helped Marvin tie the straps of his glove. Their long yellow robes billowed in the breeze, showing the black underside when the wind tossed the robe tails this way and that. It didn’t take long for Minho to notice him, and when he did he shielded his eyes with one hand and waved with the other.

Smiling, Kibum returned the wave. 

His attention shifted then to the captain. He must have said something? Kibum couldn’t hear a word that was being said. Soon, the older students ran to their places on the pitch, dropping the brooms mid-air before mounting them. Minho, Marvin, and several of the others huddled around the captain. He gave them an instruction, and they ran out of Kibum’s view.

Kibum huffed, leaning forward in his seat before he slipped out of it entirely and stepped down the bleachers to stand at the banister. When he looked down, he spotted Minho and the others mounting their brooms as well. 

A second later, they took off.

The flock of hopeful Quidditch players peaked over the stands by the time they reached the goal posts. They turned, following the curve of the pitch along the far side of the stadium. Kibum leaned over the edge, watching them fly around the goal posts on the other side. His eyes widened and he took a couple of steps back as they zoomed past him. 

The turbulence of their flight buffeted him, and he smiled when he heard Minho’s shouted: “Hello, Bummie!”

Kibum waved, but it was too late because Minho was taking another turn around the pitch. And then another, and another. Five laps they took, while the experienced players kept busy in the middle, keeping the Quaffle aloft between them by using their head, hands, or feet. Minho and the others joined them once they finished their laps.

He stepped back up to the banister and saw the captain walking across the lawn, dragging a trunk behind him. Kibum’s curious gaze darted between Minho and the trunk and paused on the trunk when the captain crouched to open it. He motioned for the others to come closer and he passed off the bats to the Beaters.

Minho and the other hopefuls hovered close to the captain as he held something up between them -- the Golden Snitch, probably. Kibum’s brow furrowed. Minho must be upset. He had been talking about being a Chaser since he started to consider playing Quidditch himself. 

Well, hopefully, he wouldn’t be too disappointed. Becoming a Seeker might be fun, too, after all. 

His grip tightened around the banister as they took to the air again, and he held his breath as the captain caught the Quaffle. “Here we go,” he muttered, searching for Minho in the flock of fluttering yellow robes. There he was, the highest in the sky. “Good luck, Minho...”

The Quaffle was thrown, and the game began. 

All at once, the players became a flurry of yellow, and Kibum struggled to focus on the actual play, so he directed his attention back to Minho. He sat still atop his broom, occasionally glancing around the pitch before he turned his focus back to the play. 

Kibum couldn’t make out Minho’s expression, but he had watched enough Quidditch games to know what it must be like. He started to smile, but it faltered when he caught a glimmer of gold in his peripheral vision. The Snitch! Once he had turned to look at it, the Snitch had vanished completely. Kibum sighed and slumped against the banister.

Wait...did Minho’s entrance to the team depend on him catching the Snitch?

“Oh god...” 

He found Minho again, just as he was dodging a Bludger. Kibum clutched his sweater and let out a sigh when he successfully evaded it. The play moved away from him, and he turned to follow it before he...Wait...did he see the Snitch? He must have because he leaned forward, guiding his broom to the opposite goal posts. The other hopefuls caught on and started after him.

Kibum cupped his hands around his mouth. “Go, Minho! Go!”

Minho zipped into a dive, the tails of his robes whipping behind him as he chased the Snitch. He stretched his arm out ahead of him as he followed it around the pitch. Kibum leaned over the banister again as he flew below the stands. 

The shimmering Snitch was just out of his reach, and he edged forward. Kibum’s entire body tensed as the Snitch slipped out of his grasp, darting behind Minho and up into the air again. Minho followed it, flying right in front Kibum. The wind from Minho's flight and the other hopefuls on his tail whipped around him, causing him to stagger and fall back onto the front bleacher.

He stretched as far as he could, and Kibum’s fingers twitched as Minho’s hand closed around the Snitch. Kibum jumped out of his seat and let out a loud whoop! Minho immediately turned to him, grinning broadly, and waved the hand with the Snitch at him. He gave Minho two enthusiastic thumbs up before Minho flew away and back to the pitch. 

Grinning, Kibum ran to the stairwell and down to the Hufflepuff hallway. He folded his hands behind his back as he waiting for Minho and the others to appear. It took several minutes, but when they did, Minho ran to meet him and pulled him into a suffocating hug. 

Kibum patted his back slowly when Minho sniffed. “You made it on the team, right?” Minho nodded into his shoulder, sniffing again. Kibum squeezed him a little tighter. “See? I knew you could do it.” His response was too muffled for Kibum to make out, so he leaned away, smirking. “You’re way too sweaty for us to keep hugging.”

Minho laughed softly, his gaze dropping to the ground between them. “I’ll go get changed.” He started to walk back to the locker room before he turned back to Kibum. “Wait for me?”

“Of course.” 

* * * * * * * * * *

The sound of Minho clearing his throat reverberated down the empty hallway. A warm glow emanated from inside their study closet as Kibum lit the candles that they used all last year. Minho clasped his hands behind his back, stepping up on his tiptoes before falling back on his heels.

“Okay, ready,” Kibum said without coming out. 

Minho ducked inside and closed the door behind him. He glanced around at their shadows dancing and mingling in the flickered light. “Are you sure you don’t want to study?” 

Kibum slumped against the wall and crossed his legs beneath him. “Yeah.” He yawned, stretching his arms out before him. “Besides, we left our stuff downstairs, so...”

“That’s true.” 

“I...well, I was thinking that we could hang for a little bit. Just the two of us.” 

“It has been a while, huh?” 

Kibum nodded. “So, was your summer as fun as you thought it would be?”

“I guess. Minseok and I played a lot of football. And I got to be with Mom a lot, too.” Whenever Dad took Minseok with him to practice, Mom always seemed to have errands to run and she took him with her. Maybe next year he could go with his dad and brother to football practice. “What about you? Did you have fun with Jjong?”

“Oh, tons!” He giggled as he leaned forward and launched into a story. Apparently, when they were de-gnoming Jjong's mother’s garden, one of the gnomes latched onto Jonghyun’s hand and would not let go. Minho understood the story up to the part in the story where Kibum ran for the hose, but after that, he was laughing too hard to continue. 

Minho couldn’t help but laugh himself. “He seems really fun.”

“He is.” There was a smile in Kibum’s voice, and Minho glanced over at him. “I wish you had gotten to know him a little better.” 

“Maybe this next summer?” Kibum’s eyebrows rose. “Like, what if we...” his voice trailed off as his brow furrowed. He wanted to see if they could spend time together in summer.  Compared to the mere fifteen minutes they got to see each other last month, even a day would be more than enough time. But, what if Kibum didn’t want that? He didn’t want him to feel obligated, but -- 

“What if we...what?” 

-- but what did it hurt? Kibum was his friend...he probably wouldn’t mind, right? “What if we tried to hang out for a week together?”

“Like a week at your house and a week at mine? That sounds awesome!” Kibum shot to his feet, searching the shelves of the closet. He threw his head back with a sigh. “We really cleaned up in here. I’ll write to Grandma about this tomorrow.”

“So soon?” 

“Sure! Why not! We gotta plan this as soon as possible.” Minho watched Kibum as he returned to his spot on the floor. “I missed you this summer. A lot."

Minho let out a relieved sigh with a smile. “I really missed you, too.”