When a day starts off bad, it’s sort of hard to recover from.

Minho slept through breakfast as well as the first fifteen minutes of Transfiguration. When he woke to an empty dorm room, he glanced over at Seb’s alarm clock. 8:45 

“Oh, crap!” He scrambled out of bed, bleary-eyed and panicked, and rushed over to the dresser to change into his uniform. In his hurry, it took him a while to find his things, and his hands trembled as he pulled on his socks.

Of course he would sleep in today…

He knew why he woke up late; he couldn’t fall asleep last night. Not until after 4:17 – which was the last time he glanced over at Seb’s clock. Nerves for the Quidditch game later this afternoon as well as for his Charms test kept him awake. In an attempt to make himself fall asleep, he tried counting the stars above his bunk.

It didn’t work.

Grabbing his heavy backpack, Minho slung it over his shoulder and ran out the door. The common room was painfully quiet as he shuffled across the hardwood floor on his socked feet. Once his shoes were on, he was out the door and on his way to the ground floor.

The door to Classroom 1 was propped open, so Minho sat down beside the doorway. He leaned back against the wall as he listened to Professor Crowell continue her lesson from yesterday on the theory of transfiguring living creatures to inanimate objects. He dug through his backpack and, after a moment, he sighed heavily. Last night, he had forgotten to exchange his afternoon-class books for his morning-class textbooks.

At least Kibum was in there right now, taking good notes to share with him, as usual.

Minho hugged his backpack and rested his chin on the top, waiting as patiently as he could for Transfiguration to finish. He jumped to his feet when the bell rang and he stepped away from the doorway, leaning forward to watch for Kibum. The students flooded out of the classroom, most smiling or greeting Minho as they passed by. When Kibum appeared, he found Minho instantly and surged through the other students to reach him.

“Are you okay? Where were you?”

“I over-slept.”

Kibum’s brow furrowed when the second bell rang and he glanced over at the Slytherins making their way up to Charms. “I’ll see you after lunch before the game, okay?” Minho nodded and Kibum ran off, catching up to Analecia before she started to climb the stairs.

Once Kibum was out of sight, Minho trudged back downstairs. It was Friday, which unfortunately meant that there was no Defense Against the Dark Arts class. He followed some of the other Hufflepuffs as they returned to the common room, and he quickly exchanged the books in his backpack before he went back upstairs and headed outside.

Birds were singing and chirping as Minho meandered through the greenhouses. The sky was bright, blue, and clear – not a cloud in sight. Good news for the game later this afternoon. He plopped his backpack in the dirt by Greenhouse 3 and crossed his legs as he sat.

There was a nice, cool breeze sweeping through the gardens, tousling Minho’s hair. He leaned back against one of the walls as he started to pull weeds, making a little pile beside his knee. As time passed, other students – Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors alike – soon started to cluster in the garden as they waited for their Herbology lesson.

Three pairs of shoes appeared on the cobblestone path in Minho’s line of sight, and he sighed as they sat down.

“Hey, buddy,” Damien said, a hint of a smile in his voice. “What’s up?” Minho just shrugged without looking up. Maybe Damien would go away if he didn’t respond. He clapped his hand on Minho’s shoulder. “Good luck on the game today. Ravenclaw is a good team.”

Minho glanced up, looking from Nick to Jared and finally to Damien. “Thanks.”

“One thing,” Jared said, his head cocking to the side. “You are aware that, as the Seeker, you’re supposed to catch the Snitch, right?”

“Like, that’s your one job,” Nick said, adding a couple of tiny weeds to Minho’s growing pile.

Taking a deep breath, Minho looked back down at the dirt. “I know.”

The three Gryffindors let out relieved chuckles, Damien patting Minho’s shoulder again. “I wasn’t sure if you understood because like, you haven’t caught one yet, so – “

Minho scooted away, out of Damien’s reach. “No, I know.”

“Okay, good.”

They talked amongst themselves then, their chatter getting louder when a couple of Gryffindor girls sat on either side of them. Minho heaved a heavy sigh and looked around for his dormmates. By the time he spotted them – Travis was trying to climb one of the apple trees while Marvin and Gilbert were pulling him off – Professor Sprout opened the door to Greenhouse 3.

“Come on inside, everyone!”

Minho brushed off the seat of his pants and the dirt off his robe as he hurried inside after the others. Everyone was going to their usual spots, but Minho stopped in his tracks when he found Chelsea in his seat. He usually sat by Amber, Chelsea’s best friend, so it made sense that she would want that spot.

She gave him an apologetic look and he smiled and shook his head. His smile fell, however, when he saw that the only open spot left around the table was between Nick and Damien.

Reluctantly, he hooked his backpack over the back of his chair and sat down.

“Take out your book, and turn to page 420.” There were a couple of giggles far down the table, but they were silenced when Sprout looked up. “We’re revisiting the Venomous Tentacula today and discussing how it can be easily disarmed.” Minho looked up from his textbook when he found the page, making eye contact with Professor Sprout. “Minho, if you would start the reading.” His chair creaked as he stood. “From the third paragraph, please.”

He found his place with a trembling finger. “The…the Tentacula is known for its a…appen…a – ”

“Appendage,” Sprout said, and Minho nodded, flinching when Damien snickered quietly beside him.

“ – appendage-like vines that are used to ensnare their prey.” He cringed at his lisp, willing it to disappear for until at least he was finished with this passage. “The thorns that cover the vines are filled with a…le…lethal venom that even the slightest prick can prove fatal within minutes, if not properly tended to.”

He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his nerves before he continued. “Beware of coming too close to the Tentacula. Even if you don’t come close enough for the vines to latch onto you, the Tenacula is able to spray its venom from its shoots – “

“Thooths,” Nick whispered, and Damien snorted.

“Quiet,” Sprout said, her voice stern. Minho’s heart settled into his churning stomach when she said, “Continue, please, Minho.”

“ – from its…shoots…with a varying range. The, uh, the largest known Tentacula plant was three meters tall and had a five-meter reach with its longest vine. It was able to spray venom up to ten meters from its mouth.”

His bottom lip trembled as he tried to blink away the tears blurring the passage. They were just teasing him, he shouldn’t be affected by it. Kibum all the time, after all, but it never made him feel bad about himself.

Minho tried to swallow away the knot in his throat. “Uh, when, uh, defending yourself from the Tentacula, e…especially if one has la…latched onto you, the best approach is to use the, um, the Severing Charm to dis…lodge it from your person.”

He paused, looking up at Sprout to see if she wanted him to stop yet or not. Of course not. “If one has latched onto you, stay completely still and say ‘Diffindo!’ The vine should fall away from the plant and un…unravel itself from you so you can make your escape.”

“Thank you, Minho. Elizabeth, if you’d pick up where Minho left off?”

Sighing, Minho returned to his seat, his eyes closing when Damien leaned forward to talk to Nick as Liz started to read. “You know what’d be helpful?” he whispered, and Nick hummed in question. “If Hogwarts had some sort of speech therapy.” Minho gulped, his gaze fixed on the illustration of the Venomous Tentacula. “I’ve heard its helpful to some people.”

“True.”

His parents had considered taking him to a speech therapist, specifically for his lisp, back in Korea. In the end, they decided it wasn’t worth the money, because it was sort of cute sometimes, according to his mother.

The rest of the lesson went by without Minho’s participation, or attention. Instead, he stared blankly at the page, turning it whenever he heard the others start to flip through their books. Herbology ended not soon enough, and Minho was out the door before anyone could stop him.

There was no History class today, because of the game after lunch, so everyone was on their way to the early lunch period. The indistinct chatter in the halls grated against his already frayed nerves, so Minho ducked into the stairwell and hurried back to his dorm room. Hopefully, he could find even the slightest bit of peace before the game.

* * * * * * * * * *

In the Great Hall, Minho was nowhere to be seen. Even when the Quidditch team got up to go down to the pitch, Kibum couldn’t find Minho amongst them.

“Hey, have you guys seen Minho?” Kibum asked, looking across the table at Aaron and Analecia.

“Nope.”

“Anyways,” Callum said, clearing his throat, “like I was saying, that’s why I think the Ministry is connected to the Illuminati.”

“Interesting,” Aaron said, humming in thought. Analecia scoffed, and Kibum grabbed the other half of his sandwich, eating it slowly while he watched for any sort of sign of Minho on the other side of the Great Hall.

Once he was finished with his lunch, most of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were already on their way down to the game. He wiped this mouth free of crumbs with his sleeve and stood, heading to the door without waiting for the others to join him.

Once he reached the arena, he stopped by the Hufflepuff hallways, listening for the telltale music. It was faint, but there. They must be getting ready to go out to the pitch. Kibum jogged over to the stairwell leading up to the stands and took the steps two at a time, finding his and Minho’s usual spot free. Callum and Aaron joined him as the teams took to the field.

“Ready for this?” Aaron asked, his voice quiet against the loud cheering of the Hufflepuffs beside them.

“No.”

Hufflepuff had not won once this year. During the game against Slytherin, Christine, the Seeker, had found and caught the Snitch within the first minute of the game. Neither team had been able to even score. Minho refused to talk about Quidditch now, and he tended to flinch whenever someone brought it up around him. Kibum kept trying to tell him that their losing streak wasn’t his fault, but...

Just this morning after their Charms lesson, Kibum overheard a couple of the Ravenclaws saying that they had basically already won the game already since they were playing against Hufflepuff and their weak Seeker. Analecia had to physically drag him away from them before he did something he would regret.

Well, maybe not regret, but something he would get detention for.

Kibum was out of his seat when the players from both teams took to the air -- one hand cupped around his mouth as he cheered and the other waving at Minho. He couldn’t be sure, because of the distance, but it looked like Minho didn’t even glance his way. He stepped around his fellow students as he made his way to the banister.

“Go go, Choi Minho!” he yelled, both in English and then in Korean. Minho looked his way then, and Kibum waved, his smile falling when he didn’t return it.

Once the whistle blew, the game began.

One of the Ravenclaw Chasers caught straight away, but Kibum turned his attention away from the play and to Minho, who sat perched high above everyone else. Kibum held his hand up, shielding his eyes from the sun. His breath caught when Minho started to freefall -- or so it seemed -- but he was only getting out of the way of the Hufflepuff Beaters.

When the play moved away from him, he shot back up into the sky, this time flying around, no doubt scanning every centimeter for a flash of gold.

“You’ve got this, Choi,” he said under his breath.

Minho’s head twitched to look his way, and he started to dive toward the shared Hufflepuff and Slytherin stands. Kibum’s eyes widened when he came to an abrupt stop several meters away. He rubbed his eyes with one hand and shook his head, looking back out toward the pitch. Did he think he saw the Snitch? Kibum leaned over the banister and saw a golden streamer caught on one of the beams, the wind tossing it back and forth.

“Go, go, Choi Minho!” Kibum cheered, grinning when Minho glanced his way. He offered Kibum a small smile before returning his attention to the game.

A rousing cry erupted from the other side of the pitch, and Kibum looked up at the announcer’s stand when it was declared that Ravenclaw took the lead. He looked back up at Minho, who squared his shoulders. Kibum tensed as he darted away, swooping around the pitch to the opposite goal posts.

He stopped mid-flight when the Ravenclaw Seeker started to dive, and he followed her into the middle of the play. There it was, the slightest glimmer of gold flitting about the other players. Minho was closer to the Snitch than she was, maybe this would be it? Maybe he’d catch it? Maybe --

No...

It all happened so fast.

Minho was secure on his broom and then Kibum blinked. When he opened his eyes, Minho was falling to the grass below. Kibum’s breath caught and he froze as Madam Hooch ran out onto the field, her wand extended, slowing Minho’s fall.

The play stopped, and who Kibum assumed to be the Hufflepuff captain bolted over to catch him and lay him gently on the ground.

“I have to get down there...” Kibum turned to leave, but he was pressed in by the other students curious to see what happened. “Move!” He yelled, startling the group of girls behind him. “I have to go!”

Kibum pushed his way through the crowd and ran down the steps and to the Hufflepuff tunnel. His footsteps were loud in the empty hallway, and he stopped at the door, watching the mass of players on the pitch. Was he even allowed to go out there?

He stepped out of the way of two of the Hufflepuff players who were heading for the locker room. “Is he okay?” Kibum asked, his voice strained, as they ducked inside. They both reappeared, one of them carrying a small chest. “What happened?” The one with the chest ran back outside, ignoring Kibum, and the other stopped beside him.

“Quaffle...hit his head...” she said between breaths, patting Kibum’s back. “He’ll be...okay...don’t worry.”

Tears started welling up in Kibum’s eyes. “Can I see him?”

She took a deep breath. “Stay here. We’re gonna bring him in here to wait for Madam Pomfrey, okay?”

“O-o-okay.”

She patted his back again before she darted off toward the castle. Kibum sniffed and turned around to watch the slow progression of the Hufflepuff players across the pitch. He sniffed again, rubbing the tears from his eyes, and fidgeted with the sleeve of his robe while he waited. After what seemed like an eternity, they reached the hall and Kibum moved out of their way.

Minho was slumped against the captain of the team, who was guiding him and the rest of the team to the locker room. “Good, Kibum, you’re here,” he said as he passed. “Follow me.” Kibum trailed after the team, darting around them to stand at the captain’s side.

He had been placed on one of the many benches, his head leaning up against the wall. His eyes were half-closed, and he stared blankly at people in front of him. Kibum sat beside him on the bench, his arm instinctively wrapping around Minho’s waist to hold him steady. There was a bruise already purpling on his left temple. The captain said something, but Kibum hadn’t been focusing on him at all. He looked up when the captain tapped his shoulder.

“Can you watch over him for a minute? Make sure he doesn’t fall asleep or -- yes?” The captain turned when his name was called by someone -- Kibum wasn’t sure nor did he care who it was -- at the door.

“You’re okay, Min...You’re gonna be okay, alright?”

“Al...right,” he said, his whisper slightly slurred.

Kibum’s bottom lip trembled as he rubbed Minho’s side. “You were doing really good out there today.” Minho huffed and Kibum looked up, expecting a change in expression. Nope, still blank. “I know you won’t believe me but it’s true. You -- “

His thought was cut off by the appearance of Madam Pomfrey as she bustled into the locker room. Kibum sat as still as possible as she bent over Minho, inspecting his temple. The entire team crowded around behind her until she turned, the steel in her eyes chilling the blood in Kibum’s veins. They backed off then, and she held open Minho’s eyes one by one as she held her lit wand before them.

“Looks like a simple concussion,” she said after she finished her many little tests. “Tanner, if you’d help me get him back to the infirmary, I’d appreciate it." The captain nodded and moved to help Minho up off the bench. “Everyone else, stay here. We don’t want to overstimulate him.” The rest of the team stayed behind while Tanner and Minho followed Madam Pomfrey out of the locker room.  

Kibum watched the door long after they disappeared from the doorway, his stomach churning. The team changed out of their uniforms and cleaned the locker room up after themselves. Once they were finished, they crowded by the door and looked back at Kibum, who still had not moved. The girl from earlier nodded to the others, sending them on their way, and moved back into the room.

She took a seat on the bench opposite of Kibum. “So, you’re the Kibum, huh?”

“The?”

“Minho talks about you a lot.” Kibum took a deep breath in an attempt to stem the oncoming tears. “He’s gonna be okay, you know? Pomfrey knows what the she’s doing, I wouldn’t worry too much, hon.” He nodded slowly, and she gave him a small smile. “I know saying that doesn’t really help you right now, but it’s true.”

“Okay,” he said, his voice watery.

“I’ve gotten hurt a bunch like that during practice and games, and she’s always fixed me right up. “

“Really?”

“Absolutely.” She glanced at the door before looking back at Kibum. “Wanna head back? We’ll be able to hear if he’s doing better soon.” Kibum gulped and shot off the bench. He had to hold himself back from running across the lawn.

The rest of the day both dragged on and flew by. He didn’t get word about Minho’s condition until Herbology, when Tanner came in to tell him that Minho was fine and that he could see him at dinner. Kibum had been distracting himself with extremely diligent note-taking until that moment, but after that, he couldn’t concentrate on a word anyone was saying. He just wanted to leave.

When dinner finally came, Minho was, once again, nowhere to be found. Unlike lunch, however, Kibum didn’t wait until the end of the meal to find out where he was. He was up and out of his seat, hurrying to the other end of the Great Hall to where Tanner was sitting. When he said he didn’t know where Minho was, Kibum ran to the infirmary, finding it empty, except for Madam Pomfrey, who was remaking a bed. She said that Minho was fine and that she had sent him on his way about an hour ago.

Kibum ran all the up the six flights of steps to the seventh floor, the study closet door appearing even though Minho wasn’t with him. He opened it, frowning. Dark and empty.

Where was Minho?

He took a couple of deep breaths before he ran back down the stairs to the basement, sliding to a stop in front of the Hufflepuff barrels. “Is he in there?” he asked when Gilbert came through the entrance. Gilbert just shook his head and Kibum frowned, looking down the hall.

Where the hell was Minho?

It hit him as he started trudging back to Slytherin. He couldn’t...not the Quidditch pitch...he would know better than that, right?

Groaning, Kibum went back up the stairs and crept down the darkened hallway, sneaking out of the castle. The sun was setting now, dusk was upon them, setting the sky ablaze with brilliant oranges and pinks. Ordinarily, he might have stopped to admire the sunset, but at the moment, he just really didn’t care.

As he walked down the hall, he heard faint sort-of grunts coming from the pitch. All his worry and stress that had been accumulating within him all day now manifested in a burst of anger. Kibum’s hands balled tightly at his sides as he stepped through the doorway, looking up to find Minho tossing walnuts for himself to catch.  It took a moment for him to notice Kibum, and when he did, his shoulders fell for a second before he tossed another golden walnut.

Once he caught it, he slowly flew down to where Kibum was. He offered Kibum a sheepish smile once he landed, and he pocketed the walnuts in his robe. “Hey, how ar -- hey!”

Kibum had snatched the broom out of Minho’s hand and held it out of his reach as he stumbled forward. “I can’t believe you...”

“Give it back!”

“No!”

* * * * * * * * * *

“Open up.”

Minho blinked slowly, cringing at the pale sunlight. His head throbbed, and he squinted up at Madam Pomfrey. Between her fingers, she held a thin strip of something green. “What...what i...s that?”

“Aereveli leaf. It’ll help with your headache.”

“Oh.” Minho slowly opened his mouth, and Pomfrey lifted his tongue with a gloved finger and placed the leaf underneath. It had...a sort of citrus and minty taste to it. It was faint, but there.

“You got a concussion during the game. You’ll have a bad headache for a few days, but it should go away in about a week or so.” Minho barely nodded before he froze, pain spiking from his neck to his temple. “You’re going to need to take it easy for the next few days. No Quidditch.” He whined. “No. Quidditch. Until I say so, alright?”

“Okay.”

“I also want you to come see me again before you go to bed tonight, as well as in the morning to see how you’re doing.”

A chill ran over him, tingling up his spine and into his neck and spreading into his head. It, thankfully, soothed the pain. Tentatively, Minho opened his eyes, surprised to find that the sunlight no longer hurt his eyes. Wait...he blinked and widened his eyes before he let them go back to normal. Was one of his eyelids drooping? Minho reached up to hold his left eyelid open.

“That’s a common side effect of concussions. It’s possible that your eyelid will return to normal, but it might not.”

“Oh.”

“Is he okay?” Both Minho and Madam Pomfrey looked over to the door to find Jennie Davies, one of Ravenclaw’s Chasers, standing just inside the infirmary. Pomfrey waved her inside and she came up to the foot of Minho’s bed, her hands wringing together before her. “I’m so sorry, Minho. I didn’t mean to hit your head, I just didn’t see you coming, I’m really sorry.”

He shook his head slowly, offering her a small smile. “It’s okay.” It was his fault, really. He shouldn’t have dove into the play. Why was he so stupid? He was too focused on the Snitch, he didn’t even notice his surroundings. “Who won?”

Jennie blinked, glancing over at Madam Pomfrey, who was rummaging around in one of her the cabinets, before returning her attention to Minho. “Uh, Hufflepuff forfeited.” His heart sank and he sighed. “We don’t, um, really consider it a win though, if that makes you feel better.” Minho tried to smile but he wasn’t sure if he pulled it off. Probably not.

Pomfrey returned with a little red velvet bag, and Jennie started to back away. “I’m glad you’re doing okay now. See you later, Minho!” He waved as she walked away.

“There are a couple extra leaves in here, in case the pain returns and you can’t get here soon enough.” She passed him the bag, and he shook it a little. “You’re free to go now, Minho, but don’t forget to come back in before you go to bed.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He slipped out of bed, leaning against the bedpost when a flurry of stars blew across his vision. Once they cleared, he shuffled out of the infirmary and into the hall.

What time was it? Minho traipsed to the courtyard below the clock tower, his hand tracing the wall as he walked.

There was a chill in the air when he stepped outside, and Minho shivered as he walked outside. He cupped his hand over his eyes as he looked up, trying to decipher the placement of the hands of the clock. Like usual, he had no idea what they said. Turning, Minho looked up at the sun, guessing that it was about time for dinner.

Was he hungry? Minho rubbed his stomach. He hadn’t eaten anything today if he remembered right, so he probably needed to. But, he still wasn’t hungry. Besides, he didn’t really want to show his face in the Great Hall quite yet.

He meandered through the courtyard, stopping at one of the banisters overlooking the lawn, and his gaze settled on the Quidditch pitch.

It really wasn’t a hard concept. Catch the Snitch...just, catch it...why couldn’t he do that? Had he not practiced enough? Was there really any point to him continuing if he was going to keep making his team lose?

Minho pulled himself over the banister and slowly dropped down on the other side, squinting when the bright flashes of lights returned behind his eyes. Once they cleared, he started toward the pitch. He slipped into the locker room and grabbed his practice walnuts before he went out to grab his broom from the cupboard.

It was slow going at first, practicing. He had trouble focusing on the walnuts; he kept dropping them. Eventually, though, by the time the sun started to set, Minho found his stride. He lost it, however, when he noticed Kibum standing in the doorway of the Hufflepuff corridor.

“Crap.”

He looked angry, or upset, rather. Minho threw one last walnut and zoomed away, catching it. Looking back, he found Kibum among the shadows and made toward him, his flight sort of unsteady. He leaned on his broom when he was safely on the ground, and he smiled at Kibum as he stuffed the walnuts into his robe pocket.

“Hey, how ar -- “ Kibum grabbed the broom out of Minho’s hand. “Hey!”

He just shook his head, holding it behind him when Minho reached for it. “I can’t believe you...”

“Give it back!”

“No!”

Minho huffed, crossing his arms when Kibum raised his chin. “I have to practice.”

“No, you got hurt. You need to rest.”

“Kibummie -- “

“Don’t...” Kibum closed his eyes, sighing. “Why are you out here?”

“I told you, I have to practice...so...so I can get good.”

Kibum tossed the broom aside, Minho making a sort of choked sound when it hit the ground. He sat, crossing his arms over his knees before he looked up at Minho. “Why do you beat yourself up so much?”

Blinking, Minho averted his eyes. “I...I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Minho, I have literally seen you hit yourself. Several times.” His jaw twitched and his fists clenched at his side. “You didn’t do that today, did you?” Minho shook his head. “Good.” He shifted his feet and froze when his head started to throb again. His hand shook as he dug into his pocket for the bag of aereveli leaves, pulling one out and placing it under his tongue.

Kibum patted the grass beside him and took a deep breath as Minho sat down. “What’s really going on?”

He shrugged, shaking his head. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.” Kibum looked over at him, waiting for him to respond.

Minho propped his elbows on his knees and held his face in his hands, audibly wincing when his finger dug into his bruised temple. He took a deep breath, waiting for the aereveli leaf to take effect. Kibum started rubbing his back as the chill returned, eradicating his headache somewhat.

“It -- “ he started to say, his voice cracking a little. How should he put this? “I -- “ his voice morphed into a pained groan when as his head continued to throb.

“Hey, hey,” Kibum said, and Minho could hear him shifting beside him. “Lay down for a minute and rest.” Minho opened one eye when he heard a patting sound to see Kibum’s legs stretched out before him and his hand patting his lap. Slowly, Minho turned and laid down, his head resting on Kibum’s thigh. He started carding his fingers through Minho’s hair, applying the slightest bit of pressure to his scalp.

It felt...really nice, actually.

“My dad used to do this for my mom when she would get migraines,” Kibum said as his fingers spread over the crown of his head. “I hope it helps.”

“I think it might be already.”

“Mm.”

Minho listened to the chirps of the crickets while he sorted through his thoughts. Everything within him hated to lose, and yet, he kept losing. Again and again and again. What would his father even say, if he could see him now? “I told you so”? “You were never meant for this”? “Minseok would be better suited for this”?

He sighed heavily, and Kibum stopped his ministrations for a second. “What’s wrong?” he asked once he started massaging again.

“What’s the point of playing a game if you’re just gonna lose?”

“Hmm...for the enjoyment? The exercise? The thrill of the game?”

Minho tipped his head back slightly, looking up at a smirking Kibum. “I said that.” He did say that to Kibum a little over a year ago, almost word for word, when they were walking back to the castle after a Quidditch game. Kibum had asked why someone would even want to play Quidditch, and Minho had laughed.

“You did.” Minho looked back at the sky, watching the stars twinkle into their places in the darkening sky. “Someone has to be the loser, Choi, and sometimes that person has to be you. It absolutely , but that’ll make the win all the sweeter.”

“I’ve made us lose every game so far though. I’m just not good enough.”

“Did Tanner say that?”

Minho sighed. “No.”

“Your teammates?”

“They’re probably all thinking it.”

Kibum scoffed. “If they are, then they’re wrong.” He ruffled Minho’s hair lightly. “You ready to go back to the infirmary?”

“She said I didn’t have to come back until morning." Wait, no...he was supposed to come see her before bed. How did he forget that?

“She also probably said no to Quidditch.” Oh...right. When Minho didn’t respond right away, Kibum stopped rubbing his head. “Come on, let’s get you up.”

Stars flooded his vision once again as he sat up, his stomach churning something fierce. He stopped midway to sitting straight up, and Kibum’s hand pressed against his back as he stood, holding him steady until he could help Minho off the ground. Kibum pulled his arm over his shoulders, holding onto his wrist.

“You okay to start walking?”

Minho could feel himself swaying a little, as well as Kibum’s grip tightening on his wrist. Once the white sparks disappeared from his vision, he stepped forward and Kibum followed. Their progress back to the castle was slow -- night had completely set in by the time they stepped inside. When they got to the infirmary, Minho expected Kibum to drop him off on one of the beds and go.

Instead, he pulled back the covers for him and helped him sit on the bed. “Stay here for a minute, okay?” Kibum left his side and went over to the closed door of the apartment within the infirmary, his staccato knocks loud in the quiet room. “Is it alright if Minho and I stay here tonight?” he asked when the door swung open to reveal Madam Pomfrey.

“Did something happen?”

“Well, he was practicing Quidditch,” Minho winced when Pomfrey gasped, but Kibum continued. “And that won’t happen again until you say it’s okay, I guarantee you. But, he’s still got a bit of a headache, and I’m worried about him.”

“Is that why you want to stay as well?”

“Yes, ma’am, for my own peace of mind.”

Neither said anything for a moment, and Minho wanted to turn around to see what was happening, but he also didn’t trust his stomach. “Take these,” Pomfrey said, and Minho perked up. “I’ll be just in here if something happens, so please come get me if he vomits or has a seizure.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The door clicked closed and soon Kibum was back in front of him with an armful of striped pajamas. “Do you want me to help with your boots?”

Minho looked down at himself, somewhat surprised to find himself still in his Quidditch uniform. But then again, why wouldn’t he be? “Sure.” He could manage the rest, probably, but he didn’t think he would have been able to take off his boots.

Kibum dropped the pajamas beside Minho and knelt before him, working on unlacing the boots. Minho had ed his robe by the time Kibum finished. It took some effort and Kibum’s help to get him the rest of the way out of his uniform and into the pajamas, but soon he was tucked in bed and Kibum was changing himself. Minho closed his eyes, to give Kibum a little bit of privacy while he changed, and opened them again when he thought he heard him slipping into bed.

“Are you okay?” Kibum asked when Minho met his eyes.

What did he ever do to deserve Kibum? He was always so kind and gentle and supportive. He never made him feel like he was stupid or that he didn’t belong here. Whenever Kibum was around, he could almost feel his soul become at peace, because there was no pretense with him.

He was just his best friend...just Kibum.

He wanted to thank him for everything he had done for him, both today and since the moment they met on the train to school, but the words escaped him now. Kibum’s brow scrunched in concern when Minho started to speak and then didn’t.

“Minho?”

“Yeah,” he said, and Kibum relaxed. “I’ll be fine.”

* * * * * * * * * *

A twig cracked beneath Kibum’s foot and he stopped, glancing around at the menacing shadows. The Forbidden Forest was dark, even for midday. It might have just been his imagination, but earlier he definitely heard a growl somewhere deep in the forest. He listened for one now, but there was only the distant sound of snapping jaws…or mandibles…he had not forgotten the warning about there being giant spiders in these woods.

Shuddering, Kibum hugged himself, looking back in the direction he came. “Minho?” he said in a whispered yell, hoping that his voice would carry through the forest. 

“Yeah?”

“Where are you?” 

“Back here!” For some reason, Minho sounded exasperated. “How are you running so fast in this wind?”

“Wind?” Kibum muttered to himself. There was no wind; the forest was eerily still. Tentatively, he started trudging back to where he thought he had heard Minho’s voice. He found him quickly, bracing himself against a tree while his hair and robes whipped wildly about, as though he were caught in a terrible gust of wind.

Their eyes met, and Minho’s widened. “You don’t feel it?” he yelled, his voice echoing through the forest. Kibum shook his head, and Minho tried to push himself up off the tree, only to get slammed back against it. He gulped, looking back at Kibum. “Something’s wrong…”

Kibum awoke to the sound of a squeaky mattress. Fredrick was probably moving in his sleep again. He opened his eyes, confusion furrowing his brow. The infirmary…

He sat up, looking across the way to see Minho convulsing in his bed. Instantly he bolted out of bed and to Minho’s side, his hands hovering over his arms. One of Minho’s eyes was partially open, but he could only see the white of his eye. Before he could even decide if he should hold him down or not, Minho stilled, his head sinking into his pillow.

“Minho?” he whispered past the lump in his throat.

Drool dripped down his chin, soaking into his pillow. His breathing faltered and his left eye twitched as his body seized up. Was it happening again? He needed to get Madam Pomfrey…wake her up…have her help Minho because she would know what to do. 

But, Kibum couldn’t move, couldn’t leave him alone. Not like this.

The mattress started squeaking again as Minho convulsed once more, his teeth gnashing as his head whipped back and forth and his arms and shoulder and legs repeatedly twitched. Before he could make himself run for Madam Pomfrey, she was there, stepping between Minho and Kibum. 

She was still in her nightgown, and her hair was out of its usual bun, a wavy silver cascade down her back. At any other time, he would have thought it odd to see her like this, instead of her normal nurse’s uniform. But, at the moment he was just relieved. 

He staggered back to his bed and sat on the edge, watching her through tear-pricked eyes as she sat Minho up once he stopped convulsing. She rested Minho’s head on her shoulder. “Kibum.” The sound of her stern voice in the infirmary was jarring. He wiped the tears from his eyes as he rushed to her. “Get me one of the buckets from the shelf behind the partition.” 

Kibum bolted over to the ivory curtain and grabbed one of the small tin buckets. He hurried to pass it to her, just in time, too, because Minho started dry heaving. Gulping, Kibum tried to block out the sound, but he eventually had to leave the infirmary so he did not vomit himself. 

He didn’t go far. The sound of retching was still faint, but not as bad as it would be if he were still in the room. Kibum sank to the ground, hugging his knees to his chest as he waited. 

Tears sprang to his eyes, and he let them fall. He felt so…helpless. He had when Minho fell off his broom, and he had for the rest of the day, up until he finally saw him again. But now, he was hit with a fresh wave of helplessness. His sniffles were loud in the empty corridor, and he glanced around at the darkness, freezing when he saw several curious ghosts shimmering in the distance.

“Kibum,” Madam Pomfrey’s voice broke him of his trance. “He’s okay now, you ca – “

He was already on his feet and running back to the infirmary. Minho gave him a tired smile and relief flooded through him. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice quiet.

“Yeah, I’m just tired.” 

“Go ahead and sit on his bed, Kibum, “ Pomfrey said as she passed behind him on her way to her room. “We’re all staying up for a little bit.”

Kibum went around to the right side of his bed and sat beside him when Minho carefully scooted over. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Minho started to nod but thought better of it. “Yeah. She said I had a seizure, but I don’t remember it.”

“Two.”

“Hmm?”

“You had two.”

Minho sank back into his pillow with a wince. His body must be aching now, after all that. “That’s probably why I’m so tired, huh.” Kibum nodded, and Madam Pomfrey came back into the infirmary, a stack of cards in her hand.

“Have either of you ever played Go Fish?” she asked as she sat down on Minho’s bed as well. Kibum shook his head as Minho hummed in affirmation. “It’s pretty straight-forward. You’re supposed to collect one of the same card from each suit.” She shuffled them one, twice on her knee before she dealt seven cards to each of them. 

It was a pretty simple game, Kibum found himself getting the hang of it by the end of their second game. Minho struggled at first, too. He seemed confused by the game, despite saying that he had played it before. Pomfrey talked them both through it, her voice gentler than Kibum ever remembered it being.

Midway through their fifth hand, Minho slumped against Kibum, his head resting on his shoulder. Kibum hid his cards immediately, then glanced down at him. “Are you okay?”

“I…just really tired.”

“What did he say?” Pomfrey asked, the concern in her voice tearing Kibum’s attention away from Minho for a moment.

“That he’s really tired.” Oh…Kibum blinked, looking between Minho and Madam Pomfrey. Had he not been speaking English since his injury? No, he had…maybe a word or two, but he hadn’t since his seizure. “Can he not speak English anymore?”

Pomfrey’s brows rose in surprise, and she shook her head. “No, don’t worry! It’s fairly common for someone to revert back to their original language after a head injury. I’m sure he’ll be alright. It’ll just take some time and patience.”

“I can help him.”

She gave Kibum a small smile. “I’m sure you can.” Minho nestled his head on Kibum’s shoulder, and they both watched him for a moment. “Let’s get him laying down again. That’ll be better for his head.” 

Kibum supported his head as Pomfrey lowered him onto the bed, and then he fussed with the blanket while she went to go grab a rocking chair and her yarn. He pushed Minho’s hair off his forehead, his heart clenching as he inspected the garish violet bruise stretching from his temple and down his cheek.

“You can go ahead and go to sleep again, Kibum. I’ll watch over him.”

Reluctantly, Kibum left Minho’s side and trudged back to his bed. Once he slipped back under the covers, he arranged himself so that he could still see Minho whenever she would rock forward in her chair. All was silent for several moments, other than the creak of the rocking chair, the clacking of the knitting needles, and Minho’s steady breathing. 

Kibum’s own eyes grew heavy, but he fought to stay awake. He had to. What if Minho needed him again? 

The night stretched on, and Kibum roused himself when he dozed off for a few seconds. He glanced over at the windows lining the far wall and noticed the dark blue of night starting to lighten. It was probably five in the morning. He looked back at Minho, who hadn’t so much as moved since they laid him down to sleep. 

His eyes slid shut as he remembered that it was Saturday, which meant that there were no classes today. They could both rest to their hearts’ content. The thought relieved him and he smiled, finally letting sleep take him.