“Shh, shh!” Kibum hit Minho’s shoulder as the wrapping of the chocolate frog crinkled in his hands. “Do you want her to he – “ Minho slid his hands into the desk as Professor Crowell walked around the desks, her eyebrow quirking as she passed them. 

Minho offered her his most innocent smile and pulled his wand out of the desk. “What are we supposed to be doing, again?” he whispered through clenched teeth. 

“Turn the bird,” Kibum pointed at the chickadee watching them at the front of their desk, its beady eyes blinking as it cocked its head. “Into a goblet.”

“Huh.” Rustling erupted from the desk again and Kibum glared at Minho. “Don’t worry, I’ll share.”

Kibum clicked his tongue, watching Crowell as she returned to the front of the classroom. “Hurry, at least.”

“Got it!” The rustling stopped and Minho fumbled around in the desk for a second. “Oh…no…”

“Wha – “ Kibum’s question was cut short by the tickling sensation of frog feet hopping too and from his thigh. It landed on the floor and hopped away down the aisle.

“Crap,” they both said, Minho looking up at the professor while Kibum kept his eye on the frog. “What should we do?” Minho whispered as he tugged at Kibum’s sleeve.

“I’ll distract her,” Kibum said after a minute, glancing over at Minho. “It’s over there, behind Analecia.” He gestured furtively four desks over to the Slytherin girl who was glaring at the bird that refused to transfigure. He gave Minho a quick shove and he fell off their bench, crouching behind their desk as Kibum raised his hand. “Professor?”

Minho somersaulted like the spies did in the movies he and Minseok watched with Dad, bumping his head against the leg of the desk behind him. He rubbed the slight bump on his head and glanced up at Chelsea, who was giving him a very amused look. He raised his finger to his lips and she nodded. The click of Crowell’s heels approached and he ducked behind Chelsea’s chair, peering around the other side of her desk to catch a glimpse of the frog.

“What is it, Mr. Kim.” Professor Crowell sounded less than amused, though, not that Minho could blame her.

He crept to the other side of the desk and glanced down the aisle to find that Crowell’s back was turned to him. Perfect. Kibum looked over his shoulder, shaking his head slightly as Minho crawled across the room to Analecia’s desk. The chocolate frog watched him defiantly before it hopped between Analecia’s feet. Minho huffed and reached for it as Analecia crossed her legs, and the frog launched itself down the aisle.

“How can you not understand. It is a simple concept,” Crowel said as Minho scurried after the frog. Several of his fellow students giggled in his wake. “Tap the bird three times, point the wand directly at the bird, and say Vera Verto.”

“No, I get that.” The frog bounded to the aisle where Professor Crowell stood and Minho froze, his arm stretched out to grab it. “Don’t you think it’s cruel to the animal, though? What must the bird be thinking?”

Crowell sighed, and so did Minho when the frog hopped a meter closer to her. He crept back and followed it, hiding behind the next disk. “Get over here,” he mouthed, pointing to the ground by his knees. He was fully aware that the frog would not understand him, but this was for his own peace of mind. When he stabbed at the ground again, he watched in despair as the frog hopped once again, this time landing on Professor Crowell’s black robe.

It looked back at Minho, taunting him with its unblinking, chocolate eyes.

“If it makes you feel better, Mr. Kim, I will personally transfigure this bird back to its original state once you’ve performed the spell.”

Minho squinted and lunged forward, grabbing the frog before it could hop away again. Crowell turned and Minho rolled behind Chelsea’s desk and pressed himself against the back of her bench. Several sighs of relief sounded around the room. There was a single clap from Callum at the front of the class, who had been doing absolutely nothing to conceal that he had been watching Minho capture the frog.

“That would make me feel better, yes,” Kibum said, his voiced strained and a little louder than normal.

When Minho heard Crowell walk away, Minho crawled back to his seat, the melting chocolate frog held tightly in his fist. He sidled up next to Kibum before Professor Crowell returned to her desk and showed him the head of the frog peeking out. “Still want to split it?”

“Ew, no. It’s been on the floor.”

“Then what’d I go through all that trouble for?”

Kibum snorted and Minho punched his arm lightly, both composing themselves when Professor Crowell cleared . “Five points will be taken from both Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Mr. Kim and Mr. Choi? Please see me after class.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they both said.

Minho slumping in his seat, pouting as Crowell turned to help one of the students at the front of the class. “I thought I was being stealthy.” Kibum gave him the most incredulous look before he clapped his hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking with almost silent laughter. “What…”

When Crowell looked out over the class again, Kibum coughed to cover his laugh. He leaned over and whispered, “Okay, but maybe next time don’t hum your own danger music.”

The remaining hour of class dragged by then, and only half of the class were able to turn the bird into the goblet. True to her word, Crowell stopped by their desk after Kibum transfigured the chickadee. She changed it back into its original form with the most sarcastic flick of her wand that Minho thought he would ever see.

When the bell rang, they both stayed in their seats until the other students left the classroom. They watched as Professor Crowell sifted through the many sheets of parchment at her desk, waiting for her to call them up.

“Did I tell you to sit at your desk after class or to come see me?” she asked without looking up. The bench screeched against the floor as Minho and Kibum stood and clambered up to her desk. Minho clasped his hands behind his back as he waited for her to speak again. At length, she set her parchment down and looked up at them.

Minho’s eyes widened slightly when a short giggle from Kibum burst the silence. Kibum’s face flushed a bright pink as he tried to hold back another laugh. “Disrupting the class while I’m lecturing is no laughing matter, Mr. Kim.”

He sniffed in an attempt to compose himself. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You will be given detention in addition to your loss of house points. Mr. Kim, you will be under the charge of Professor Sprout after your classes, and Mr. Choi – “ Minho stood a little straighter at the sound of his name, “ – you will be under the charge of Professor O’Neely after your classes today.” Minho’s face heated to the tips of his ears,  and he spared a quick glance to see if Kibum noticed. A short pause and neither boy moved. Crowell closed her eyes and sighed. “You may go – no running in my classroom, please.”

They both slowed to a walk and Minho grabbed his backpack as they walked past their desk. “We’re gonna be late to our next class,” Kibum said under his breath as they hurried – without running – to the door. Once there, they split up, both running in opposite directions.

“See you in History!” Minho yelled over his shoulder, but he was too far away to hear if Kibum responded.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sunlight streamed through the ceiling, casting a soft green glow over the many plants covering the greenhouse. Professor Sprout told Kibum after his Herbology lesson that he should come back to Greenhouse 5 after he had changed into clothes that he would not mind getting dirty. At the time, she had seemed amused, which made Kibum relax, if only a little.

Maybe his first detention wouldn’t be so bad? Hopefully, Minho’s wouldn’t be either.

The door closed behind him, rattling the glass all around him. The mandrakes rustled in their clay pots and the Venomous Tentacula stood at attention, their many pods turning to face Kibum. His eyes widened as he stared at them, cowering in the doorway. If Professor Sprout had told them once, she had told them a thousand times to not even think about going near the Tentacula.

“Kibum, is that you?”

His eyes darted from the Tentacula to, well, no one? “Professor?”

“Yes, come downstairs.” His brow furrowed, and he took a step further into the room. There was a downstairs to the greenhouse? He pressed his back against the far wall, flinching when a leaf brushed against his neck. Kibum crept along the wall and stared unblinkingly at the Tentacula as the pods followed his progress across the greenhouse.

Once he reached the other side of the greenhouse, Kibum saw an open trapdoor in the floor. He detached himself from the wall and shook off a stray dried-up vine as he stepped up to the edge. A shadow moved within, and Kibum ducked to peer inside.

Sprout moved past the entrance and pushed back the brim of her mossy green witch’s hat as she looked up at Kibum. “Come on in, Kibum.”

Kibum crawled through the entrance and down the ladder, dropping down onto the hardwood floor. A small smile stretched across his face as he glanced around.

Round, stained glass windows with little blue and yellow flowers adorned the walls, letting in dusty streams of sunlight. Bookshelves were carved into the walls, with various herbs or plants or vines acting as bookends. A plush, mustard-yellow couch sat between two of the bookshelves. Over it was a beautiful display of roots – assumedly from the vines above – twisted and turned to form a picture, though, what it was, Kibum was not sure. He stepped closer to it, and the candles hovering around the couch moved to make way for him.

“Go ahead and take a seat,” came the professor’s voice from one of the tunnels leading off the main room. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Kibum sank back into the couch, picking up and hugging the navy blue cushion. He fiddled with the gold fringe, braiding the strands as he tried to peek further down the tunnels. A warm glow permeated each separate tunnel entrance and low voices emitted from the one closest to him. When they stopped, a shadow passed over the tunnel and Professor Sprout emerged, smiling.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Kibum.”

He shrugged and hugged the pillow a little tighter. “It’s okay.” He paused, smirking a little. “This is detention, so…”

Sprout laughed. “That is true.” She dusted off the front of her grass and dirt-stained dress, her eyebrows raising when she looked back at him. “Ready?”

“Yes, Professor.”

She started down the far tunnel, and Kibum tossed the pillow back to the couch before he followed her. There was a round sky-blue door at the end of the tunnel, and Kibum stepped from patch of sunlight to patch of sunlight as he kept on her heels. The door swung open with a flick of her wrist to reveal the gardens along the side of the castle outside the kitchen.

“Usually, during the summer I’m able to keep up with the tending of the gardens for the kitchen. But the mandrakes, “ she shook her head, sighing, “they reached adolescence early and ate up the majority of my time.” She nodded to the overgrown gardens and smiled down at Kibum. “So, that’s what we’re doing today.”

“Okay.”

He hunkered down next to her and pinched at the base of a weed by one of the potato plants, pulling it out. They worked quietly, Sprout humming a tune as they moved through the potatoes and halfway into the peas. Kibum looked up when a chuckle faltered her song. “A chocolate frog,” she mumbled under her breath before she went back to humming.

Kibum bit back a smile and continued to weed.

After about an hour, Kibum wiped away the sweat from his forehead and looked back on their progress. They had only made it through one strip of vegetables and they still had nine to go. Sighing, he pushed back his hair as he stood, stretching. Sprout grimaced as she stood, and she brushed her dirt-caked fingers off on her skirt as they moved to the next patch of vegetables.

“Did….did my grandma ever get in detention?”

Sprout’s brow furrowed as she squinted at him through the tomato plants. “What was her name?”

“Uh, Park, no, Bae Sunhi.”

Her expression instantly brightened. “Sunhi is your grandmother? That makes perfect sense. Ah, she’s a dear friend of mine.”

Kibum grinned and stopped pulling weeds for a moment. “What was she like during school?”

“Oh, she was sweet. My…Rolanda and I befriended her almost instantly. She was very hard-working and a great study partner. I would not have passed Charms had it not been for her.” Sprout sat back on her heels, looking off into the distance, a smile wrinkling her weathered cheeks as her eyes landed on the Whomping Willow. “She and I actually enchanted a knot to calm the Willow.”

“Really?”

Professor Sprout nodded. “It was such a nice place to study or have a picnic if the weather allowed.” Kibum stared at the Willow as it swayed in the warm breeze, blinking and refocusing on her when she turned back around. “You asked about detention.”

His face flushed and he went back to picking at a particularly stubborn dandelion root. “She probably didn’t, huh…”

She chuckled and brushed the pile of weeds off her dress. “Several times. Between you and I, it should have been a couple more times.”

“Seriously?”

As they continued to work, she regaled him with stories about the trouble she and Grandma and even Headmaster McGonagall would get into when they were in school together. She spoke of nights spent raiding the kitchen for snacks and of the day that they started excavating a secret passage between the Hufflepuff and Slytherin houses – their friends Velma and Kathrine were creating one on the other side. They had to leave unfinished when they got caught by the Slytherin Head Girl, at the time.

By the sixth plot of vegetables, Professor Sprout seemed to run out of stories. So, Kibum asked if she had been teaching when Park Kimee and Kim Bumji, his mother and father, had been in school. Most of the stories, he had already heard from his father before he died, but it pleasantly passed the time while they worked. The one about him accidentally turning the water of the prefects’ bath into a violet dye was almost funnier from a teacher’s point of view.

The sun dipped below the tips of the trees of the Forbidden Forest by the time he pulled the last weed. He scrubbed his hands on his pant legs, smearing the dirt into the fabric. “Your detention is finished, now,” Professor Sprout said as she stood. “Go ahead and get washed up before you head to the Great Hall.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, bowing slightly before he started back toward the castle.

All in all, that wasn’t too bad for his first detention. Kibum chuckled as he pushed open the door to the boy’s bathroom on the first floor. Judging by his family history, it probably wouldn’t be his last detention, either.

* * * * * * * * * *

Low voices of the students leaving the library echoed down the corridor, and Minho pulled his robe up when it started to slip off his shoulder. Gulping, he peeked inside the crack of the door of Classroom 104. Was the professor even in there? The door creaked as Minho pushed on it, trying to find Professor O’Neely in the depths of the classroom.

Sunlight streamed through the windows and glinted off the surfaces of the desks. The dragon skeleton curled around the rafters overhead, its mouth hanging open in a silent roar. Instruments ticked and whirred at the front of the classroom, but the sound of chalk on the blackboard distracted him.

Professor O’Neely stood with his back to the door, not turning around as Minho pushed the door open and stepped inside. He pushed the sleeve of his dress shirt over his elbow when it dragged through his freshly-written cursive. Minho fiddled with the hem of his sleeve as he stared at the back of Professor O’Neely’s head. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach when the professor turned around to get a parchment from his discarded robe.

Minho blushed to the roots of his hair when Professor O’Neely looked up at him.

“Oh, hello!” Minho blinked and tried to say hello in return, but O’Neely’s bright Irish accent distracted him. “I was wondering when you would show up.”

“Yeah, um,” his voice cracked, and Minho thought he lost a year of his life in that single moment. “Potions ran a little late.”

“Oh, that’s all right,“ O’Neely said, gesturing for Minho to join him at the front of the classroom. “Do you like tea?” Minho nodded. “Well, come on, I’ll put some on before we get started.”

“What are we doing?” Minho asked as he hurried to follow him up the stairs to his office.

O’Neely looked down at him, a wry grin brightening his blue eyes. “There was a bit of a chizpurfle infestation in here that I didn’t know about until last week.” He sighed and opened the door for Minho to enter first. “I was able to get it taken care of, but now I need to clean and rearrange the bookshelves in my office.”

To say Professor O’Neely’s office was messy would be an understatement. Books were hung out to dry on strings that were strung across the office. Something dripped deep inside the room, and a bundle of gnawed-on wands sat on his desk. O’Neely ducked under one of the strings as he made his way to the stove. He glanced over his shoulder, chuckling when he saw that Minho still stood in the doorway.

“You can come in and relax. Tea won’t take long to make.”

“O…kay.”

Minho sunk into the plush armchair and stared wide-eyed at the back of O’Neely’s head as he busied himself with the kettle. He averted his eyes when the professor turned his head slightly. “How is your year going so far?”

“Good.” O’Neely nodded and Minho let out a deep breath. “I’m really happy that I didn’t forget stuff that I thought I would over the summer like I thought I was gonna forget a lot of the spells but when Professor Flitwick did his review last week I remembered most of mine. Which made me happy.” Oh god, stop talking. “But I said that already.”

Professor O’Neely chuckled. “That’s good. I remember feeling that way when I came back after the summer. I’m Muggle-born, too.”

“Really?”

Smiling, he sat down behind his desk and nodded again. “I know I only have one class with you, but I think you’re doing really well here.” Minho’s face heated and was probably glowing florescent red, but he found himself not caring. “I heard from Professor Sprout that you’re on the Quidditch team?”

He stared blankly at Professor O’Neely, blinking only when he got up to take the kettle off the heat. Did he…did O’Neely actually want to get to know him? Why…why did that make him so nervous? He hemmed and hawed until O’Neely turned around briefly.

“Honey?”

“W-what?”

Professor O’Neely sniffed, seemingly amused. “In your tea?”

If the floor could just swallow him up that would probably be the best thing that ever happened to him. “Uh…” O’Neely turned around to pour the tea and Minho covered his face with his hands for a second to compose himself. “No, thank you,” he said after a moment.

“All right.” He set the steaming mug of tea on the desk in front of Minho and stirred some honey into his own before he returned to his seat. “This shouldn’t take long. The books are still drying out from the potion, but some of the instruments need to be polished and all the surfaces in this room need to be wiped down.” O’Neely took a sip of his tea, squinting as he swallowed it. “We should be done before dinner.”

Minho reached out to take his mug, rotating it in his hands before he set it back down on the desk. “Okay.” Should he answer his question about Quidditch, or had it been too long? He was probably just being polite, but…

“Yes, I am gonna play Quidditch!” Minho said at the same time as Professor O’Neely said, “Let’s get started, then. Oh?” Minho stared at the steam curling off the surface of his tea. “Which position?”

“Seeker, for now.”

O’Neely smiled. “I started out as a Seeker, too.”

“Really?” He nodded as Minho scooted up to the edge of his chair. “I’m really excited for our first game, but I’m nervous too because I don’t think I’ll be very good at it but I know I’m just starting out and, like, I really wanted to be a Chaser but Tanner said that I’m too small right now but maybe later on but I don’t know if I’ll be good enough to keep playing. I hope so because it reminds me of football and I really liked playing football back in Korea – ”

Why was he still talking? The words would not stop coming. Why hadn’t Professor O’Neely stopped him yet?

“ – but it’s really fun and I’m having fun so far and I’m really happy that I got permission to play it even though I probably won’t be – “ O’Neely cleared his throat and Minho’s eyes widened. He reached out for his tea and took a short sip. It was at the perfect temperature to drink now, so he took a long drink.

“I’m sure you’ll do great. Quidditch is really fun to play, once you get the hang of it.” He sat back in his chair, opening one of his drawers and digging through it.

“S-sorry…”

O’Neely looked up from his drawer as he pulled out a rag, his brow furrowing. “For what?”

“Talk-talking so much.”

“Oh,” Professor O’Neely passed him a rag and Minho crumpled it in his fist. “I don’t mind in the slightest. I was just going to say that we should talk while we work. This is detention, after all,” he said with the tiniest wink. Minho’s eyes widened as he stared straight ahead as O’Neely left his chair. Was his face red? Probably redder than the home jerseys of Manchester United. “Which class is your favorite?” O’Neely asked, his voice bringing Minho back to the present.

Minho stood and stooped a little to avoid bumping his head into the dangling books. He made his way over to Professor O’Neely, who was wiping a shelf clean. “Herbology, probably, but I like your class a lot, too!”

“Really?” He sounded like he was smiling, or at least amused, but Minho was focused on wiping a lower shelf free of any of the potion’s residue. “I’m happy to hear that.”

“I saw a bow…bowt – “

“Bowtruckle?”

“ – yes, bowt…truckle last year!”

“Where at?”

“Kibum and I – he’s my best friend – were cutting through the greenhouses to get back inside before it rained, I think, and I saw something moving on one of the apple trees and I thought it might be a praying mantis but then I showed it to Kibum and he was like ‘No, that’s a bowtruckle!’ and so we stared at it for like five minutes until the bell rang. I wanted to poke it with a stick but Kibum smacked it out of my hand before I could.”

O’Neely chuckled. “That’s good.”

“It probably wouldn’t have liked that.”

“Not at all, in fact.” He held out his arm, flipping it so his forearm faced Minho. He pointed to a thin, jagged scar and laughed when Minho’s eyebrows rose. “I got that in my fifth year.” O’Neely turned back to the shelves and dropped the rag on a different shelf. “Me and some of my buddies were sneaking in the Forbidden Forest just because we wanted to see what it was like and happened upon a branch of bowtruckles. They’re vicious little things when they feel threatened.”

“Oh,” Minho said…intelligently.

O’Neely passed him a glass sphere with a gold ring around it. Gray mist billowed inside when Minho touched it. “Go ahead and polish this.” He looked down at the dried droplets of the shimmery pink potion. “What’s your family like?”

As they cleaned, Minho told O’Neely all about his family and his home and his friends back in Korea. Just when he thought he was talking too much and irritating Professor O’Neely, he would ask Minho another question that kept him going. Before he knew it, the last book was placed back on the shelf and O’Neely was taking the rag from Minho’s hand and leading him to the door.

“Dinner probably started already, you can go ahead.”

“Yes, sir,” Minho wiped his hands off on his pants and hurried through the doorway when O’Neely opened it.

“Good luck on your first game, Minho! I’m sure you’ll be fantastic.” Minho stuttered out something that he hoped sounded like thank you and bowed slightly to hide his growing blush. “Now, go on, before your dinner gets cold.”

Minho bowed again before he turned and hurried out of the classroom. Once he was out the door, he ran toward the Great Hall.

* * * * * * * * * *

By the time Minho arrived at dinner, Kibum was almost finished with his. He made his way to his seat and found Kibum across the room. Standing up on his tiptoes, he pointed up, and Kibum nodded before he went back to finishing his dinner. Several other students were on their way back to their dorms and Kibum joined them, hurrying up the stairs to the seventh floor. 

Kibum was breathless by the time he reached it, and he braced himself against the wall as he staggered over to the troll ballerina tapestry. 

Now to wait, though not for long.

Not even ten minutes later, Minho came bounding up the stairs, his breathing heavy by the time he reached Kibum. “Sorry I took so long,” he paused to burp, “but I ate as fast as I could.”

The door started to etch itself in the wall as Minho helped to pull Kibum to his feet. Kibum opened the door and lit a couple of the candles before Minho came in behind him. “So, was your detention too bad?” Kibum asked once they were sitting with their backs against the wall.

Minho ducked his head and fiddled with the hem of his robe. “It-it went...okay?” He cleared his threat. “What about you?”

“It was actually really fun! I learned a lot about my Grandma when she was here.”

“That’s cool!” Kibum sat back as Minho leaned across him to grab Grandma’s latest package. He brought it over to his lap and giggled.

“What?”

He pulled out a chocolate frog and held it up. “Wanna share?”

Kibum snorted. “Sure.”

The packaging crinkled loudly in the closet as Minho ripped it open. He discarded the plastic and passed Kibum the box once he had gotten the frog out. Kibum fished out the card and sighed. It was just Dumbledore. He crumpled it up and tossed it back into the box on Minho’s lap. 

“This is the worst part,” Minho said, cringing as he snapped the frog in half. Shuddering, he held his hands out to Kibum. “Head or ?” Kibum grabbed the half with the head and bit off its leg. “Next time we should pick something less crinkly to snack on during class.”

“Or maybe just not eat during class.” 

Minho a bit of melted chocolate off his thumb. “Or...just not in Crowell’s class.”

Kibum nodded, smirking as he popped the head of the frog into his mouth. “Agreed.”