“Are you even listening?”

Minho poked his head over the top of the counter, his eyebrows raising at Kibum’s exasperated look. “Yeah.” Not really. “I’m just trying to find the scraper.” He had let the dough for the pumpkin pasties chill for a little too long and it was stuck to the bowl now. 

Kibum let out a long sigh when Minho ducked back behind the counter to search through the cupboards again. He shuffled through the notecards, judging by the rasp of paper, and cleared his throat. “What are the three different numbers you can calculate just from your name?”

“Uh…” Minho closed one cabinet and opened another, moving a huge pot out of his way. “Destiny, heart, and social.”

“Which one is thought to be the most accurate?”

“Destiny.”

Minho stood then, closing the cupboard door with his foot as Kibum switched cards. “How many different number charts can be used for calculations?”

“Three, that we know of,” Minho said as he walked over to the pitcher full of wooden utensils, searching until he found a plain spoon. That would have to do.

“What are they?”

“Chinese, Agrippan, and Chaldean.”  

“What’s another name for the Agrippan chart?”

His brow scrunched as he pried the dough from the bowl. “Did I write that down?”

Kibum nodded. “In parenthesis.” 

The dough came loose with a pop and a cloud of flour poofed around it and onto both of them. Minho turned his head to cough a laugh when Kibum sputtered and smeared flour across his cheek with the back of his hand. “I don’t remember.” 

“Pyth -- “

“Oh! Pythagorean!” Kibum’s mouth snapped closed, and he put that notecard in the back. 

Exam days always seemed to stretch on for forever. Tomorrow was their last day of them for this year, which is why he decided to make these pasties tonight so they could have them tomorrow in celebration of being done. They had made it through all the core subjects already, and he wasn’t sure about Kibum, but he was feeling pretty confident in his exams so far. When they first started making their notecards for this year, they decided to save their elective exams for last. 

They had already studied for Divination with some of the others in the library, and once the pasties were in the oven, it would be his turn to quiz Kibum on Muggle Studies. 

Minho rubbed his hand over the rolled out dough, feeling for any spots that were thicker than the rest. He grabbed the rolling pin when he felt a spot, and lightly pressed down on it as he smoothed it out.

“So, according to this, what’s my life path number?”

He squinted as he ran his hand over the dough again, mentally calculating Kibum’s birthdate. “Seven.”

“What does that mean?”

“Uh...I can’t remember all of the descriptions.” He grabbed his bowl and knife and started to make cutouts in the dough. “But I think it means that, like, you’re always searching for meaning in life or something like that.”

“What about yours?”

“I’m a five,” he said, pressing his hand to his chest and leaving a floured handprint on his t-shirt. “And apparently that means I always have to be ready for change.” 

Kibum glanced down at the flour handprint before he gave Minho the tiniest smile and went back to the notecards. He searched Kibum’s face for a moment before going back to cutting out more circles. 

It had only been three weeks since they got the news about Grandma’s cancer, and by Saturday they would be on their way home. Kibum had been struggling to maintain his usual happy mood around the other students, since no one but he, Minho, and the professors were aware of what happened. He let his guard down around Minho though, which was not only hard to watch but also a relief to see. 

Pretending to be okay when you are not is a heavy burden to bear, and Minho could only hope that he was doing enough to ease that burden for Kibum. 

He pulled the dough between the cutouts away and lightly balled them before he set them aside. “You think eight will be enough? Or should I roll out this?” 

“When have I ever said no to more pumpkin pasties?” Kibum asked drolly and Minho smiled as he dusted more flour on top of the counter. “What’s my destiny number again?”

“Eight,” Minho said immediately as he started rolling out the dough. “It means you’re super ambitious and loyal and hard-working…”

“Sounds like you’re reading off the list of Slytherin traits.” 

“Well,” he shrugged as he set aside the rolling pin and felt the dough again. “That’s the description for eight and you’re in Slytherin, so I don’t know what else to tell you.” He offered Kibum a smile that wasn’t returned. “I’m a four,” he said as he started cutting out more rounds. “And that means that I’m dependable and practical but have a tendency to be stubborn.” Kibum barely smiled at that, and Minho grinned back.

“Did you like this class?” Kibum asked when Minho made his way back to the icebox to get the pumpkin filling he made earlier. 

“Yeah, it was okay. But it was a bit overwhelming to take two different divination classes.”

“I guess that makes sense.” 

Minho glanced up from scooping some of the pumpkin filling when Kibum set the cards aside. “Was that all of them?”  Kibum nodded and leaned his crossed arms across the counter, resting his chin atop them. 

He wasn’t quite sure what to say -- unsurprisingly. But, Kibum didn’t seem to want to talk. The silence between them wasn’t what he would call comfortable, but it was better than making Kibum talk when he wasn’t up for it. Minho knew...he knew all of the thoughts behind Kibum’s downcast eyes. He had heard most of them, probably, in those first few days after they got the news, and he could easily guess the rest. He had spoken his peace already; the only thing left to do was to dread his return home. 

A part of Minho’s heart broke when Kibum asked if he could come to visit him in Manchester over the summer -- as a reprieve from, well, everything. They both teared up when Minho told him that he was going to Korea and he probably wouldn’t be able to visit at all this summer. Minho promised that he would call as soon as he could when he got back to fill him in on everything that happened while he was abroad. 

Minho finished crimping the edges and clapped the excess flour off of his hands before he brushed the tops and sides with egg wash. He scanned the counter for… “Hey, can you pass me that knife?” Kibum sat up, blinking as he looked to the side at the paring knife beside him. He slid it across the counter and into the flour, murmuring sorry. “It’s okay.” He made two quick incisions, just like Grandma showed him, on the top before he transferred all twelve to a pan. “Can you set the timer for eighteen minutes?” Minho asked as he made his way to the oven.

“Yeah.”

When he closed the oven door, he turned to find that Kibum was standing where he had been and was cleaning up his mess. “You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to!” 

“It’s fine. Besides, it’s your turn to ask me questions.” He nodded to the notecards on the other side of the counter and started scraping at the bits of flour and dough that were caked on the counter with the back of the blade. 

Minho got himself situated and shuffled through the notecards. “You still liking Professor Chanin?”

“She’s pretty fun and good at her job. And, you know, interested in the subject she’s teaching. I actually like the class now.”

“That’s good.” The corner of Kibum’s mouth barely twitched upward and he glanced down at the notecards. “So, what event caused the original rift between the wizarding community and Muggles?”

“The witch hunts that started in the 14th century went until the 18th century.” Minho nodded and started to ask the next question on the card, but Kibum cut him off. “In 1689, the International Statute of Secrecy was made and relationships with Muggles were stopped.”

Minho nodded slowly. “How did they cut off their relationships with Muggles when the ISoS was enacted?”

“Either with the Forgetfulness Charm or Potion.”

“Good!” He switched the notecard, scanning Kibum’s messily scrawled handwriting. “How did the rift between the two communities change the Muggles’ society?” 

Kibum’s brow furrowed as he brought the leftover flour into a pile before him. “They had to innovate for themselves and invent new ways of doing things.” 

“Like what sort of things?”

“Electricity, technology -- like the different kinds of vehicles -- science...stuff like that.”

Minho gave him a thumbs up. “Hey, so, do you think the split was good?”

Kibum hummed in thought, drawing a spiral in the pile of flour. He rubbed the flour off of his finger. “I think it was...beneficial for everyone. From what I understand, the wizards back then were sort of overpowering, and just with the, like, power imbalance between the two societies I’m not surprised the Muggles rose up and tried to take care of the problem. 

“Although, Chanin said that the ‘witches’ that died in the fires were Muggle women accused of being witches. The real witches were able to freeze the flames and escape. She said that the witches who escaped the fires were the ones who drew up the initial International Statute of Secrecy in an effort to stop the killing of innocent Muggle women.

“Plus,” he pushed the flour into a pile again. “The Muggles seemed to really thrive as a society after the wizards withdrew themselves and went into hiding.” He glanced over at Minho, meeting his eyes for a few seconds before he looked back down at the counter. “What do you think?”

“I agree. I think it’s for the best. People have a hard enough time understanding differences amongst themselves without adding magical powers to the mix.” Kibum simply nodded and Minho cleared his throat as he straightened the cards on the counter. “Who is credited for inventing electricity?”

“Benjamin Franklin.”

“Who came up with the science behind electricity and magnetism?” 

Kibum looked taken aback, and Minho was about to supply the answer when he shook his head. “Give me a second, I know this. Uh...Sir Thomas Browne?”

Minho looked down at the third question on the card, shaking his head. “No, but he wrote some books based on the other guy’s findings.” Kibum squinted at him. “Want a hint?” He nodded. “He shares a name with one of my dorm mates.” 

He looked away, his eyes flicking back and forth as he thought. “Gilbert!” Minho nodded as he put the card in the back of the stack. “William Gilbert.” 

“Yup!”

The timer chirped and Kibum silenced it as Minho grabbed a towel on his way to the oven. He was at Minho’s side when he set the pan down on the closest counter. “I wish we didn’t have to wait for them to cool.”

“I mean,” Minho pushed the pan a little closer to Kibum. “If you want to burn your hands and mouth then go right ahead.” 

Kibum nudged his side with his elbow before he made his way back to the far counter. He continued to clean up Minho's mess as Minho asked him questions off the cards, but he seemed a bit distracted by the scent of the pumpkin pasties wafting over to them. 

Once the counter and floor were cleaned of any flour and the bowls were washed, dried, and put away, Kibum snatched the notecards out of Minho's hand as he was asking another question. Minho froze, his mouth hanging open with the half-asked question, and Kibum stuffed the notecards into his back pocket.

“I’m tired.” Minho's gaze flicked to the pan of pasties. “And, yeah, I want some of those, too.”

Minho followed him across the kitchen and took one off the pan after Kibum did. “Just one, though. The rest are for tomorrow and then the trip home.”

Kibum stopped chewing and lowered his hand to rest on the counter, his gaze dropping to the pastie in his hand when Minho looked at him. “Is it...bad that I don't want to go?”

“I don't think so.”

“Like, I...I don't...I don't even want to see her...I'm too…” scared, Minho filled in for him when Kibum left his thought unfinished. He sighed, glancing down at his own half-eaten pastie. Maybe it wasn't the best decision to make these. “I just need to stop being selfish. Is that even the right word? Whatever. It doesn't matter.”

“You're not being selfish, Bummie. What you're feeling is normal, I think.” Kibum nodded, his bottom lip quivering as he took another bite. “We both should try to get some rest, huh?” 

“I suppose,” Kibum said around his mouthful.

Minho wrapped the pan with the Segetenvis charm and set it high on the rack so it wouldn't be in the house elves’ way tomorrow and Kibum was waiting for him by the open door, brushing the flour off the front of his t-shirt. The wall closed behind them, the painting settling into place by the time they emerged from the hallway. 

“Are you gonna sit with me again?”

Minho looked over at him, his heart aching at the silent plea in his eyes. It had become a habit since the day Kibum had gotten the letter -- Minho joining him at the Slytherin table for breakfast. He never explained why, but then, he didn't have to. It was because he wanted the moral support in case another letter with more news arrived. 

His gaze flicked to the streak of flour dusting Kibum's cheek, and he smiled. “Of course,” he said as he reached out and brushed the flour away with his thumb. “Want me to walk with you back to Slytherin?”

“No, I'll be okay.”

Minho dropped his hand and sighed when Kibum walked away. He didn't turn toward the Hufflepuff barrels until Kibum round the corner and waved good night.

* * * * * * * * * *

The room beneath the Divination classroom was tightly packed as they waited for the ladder to drop to let them inside. Trelawney declared at the beginning of the week that she did not follow the same trend that the other professors did that let them take their exam whenever they wanted during the week. She divined that the best order of exams would be by age order, started from the seventh years and going down to the third years. 

Kibum opened his eyes when he felt something press between his shoulder blades. He turned to see a dark mess of hair and smiled as he turned back around. Minho was tired -- something he admitted when he showed up for breakfast this morning. He stayed up until almost three studying for Arithmancy, because he had to have one of the charts memorized...or something.  Honestly, Kibum wasn’t sure what he was talking about since he wasn’t speaking in complete, strung-together sentences, but he got the gist. 

He leaned his head back, resting it on Minho’s for a second before he lifted it again. “Sorry,” Minho mumbled against his back before he straightened and came up to stand by Kibum’s side. 

“I don’t mind.” Minho smiled before everyone’s attention turned toward the ceiling as the trapdoor opened. It bathed the room and the ladder that tumbled down amongst them in a maroon light.

The girls in the room, who were already standing apart from the boys, either leaned against the walls or crossed their arms as they waited for the boys to hurry up the ladder. 

Kibum patted Minho’s , urging him forward to follow the others up to the classroom. He’d be the last one of the boys up; he usually was. Actually, he could probably count on one hand the number of times that he wasn’t the last boy up the ladder during this school year. It didn’t take long for the rest of the boys to climb it, as they had had much practice over the past couple of months. 

Once he was safely up the stairs, he scanned the dimly light, incense-foggy room for Minho. He found him in their usual spot at the far end of the room by the shelves of teacups. Kibum yawned, the comforting warmth of the classroom already making him sleepy. He glanced over at Trelawney’s chair, finding her sitting there -- cross-legged and meditating, it looked like -- a steaming cup of tea before her. 

He let out a long sigh as he weaved through the other boys on his way to where Minho was sitting. 

Minho patted the overstuffed ottoman beside him as Kibum drew nearer, and Kibum tucked one leg under him as he sat down. “Ready?” 

Kibum shrugged, shaking his head. “I guess. You already know I’m not very good at this.”

“It’s okay, it’s just Divination. No one takes it too seriously.” 

“Yeah.” Minho pursed his lips and looked like he was about to say something when he got distracted by Trelawney standing up to address them. 

“I shall adjourn to my office now,” she said, her voice breathy and hard to hear over the crackling fire and the low whistle of the teapot hanging above it. “And I will call you one by one to perform your exam. When you are finished divining, you will be permitted to leave the classroom. Millicent Bernstard, please, follow me.” Slowly, he rose from his seat, his hands wringing before him as he shuffled past the others and trailed after her. The door snapped closed behind him, and a hush fell over the classroom. 

“Are we allowed to talk?” Seb whispered behind them. 

No one dared answer. 

The exam didn’t seem to take long. Probably only five minutes at the most. Which, was both a relief and worrisome. Kibum folded his hands in his lap, holding them together tightly as the door to Trelawney’s office opened. “Analecia Clavel?” He glanced back at his friend as she let out a heavy sigh and started for the office. 

Kibum jumped when Minho flicked his thigh. His brow furrowed as he looked over at him. Minho just pointed at his eye, then made a V with his fingers and pointed away from him. I spy..? Blue, Minho mouthed, and Kibum looked around the room, pointing at the nearest blue thing he saw, which was a teacup. Minho shook his head. 

It took several more tries, but eventually, Kibum pointed at the bottle of incense that sat on the hearth and Minho nodded with a smile before he pointed at Kibum. My turn? He simply nodded again, and Kibum turned to look around the room for something else. There were a bunch of dried-up roses in a vase beside Trelawney’s vacant chair. They were red, like most of the other things in this room. Kibum looked away from them before he turned back around so that Minho wouldn’t catch on too quickly.

Red.

Minho scrunched up his nose in response and Kibum snorted. He covered his mouth with his hand and looked back at the quiet classroom. All eyes were on him now. Great. He punched Minho lightly in the arm when his shoulders started shaking with near silent laughter. Both froze when the office door opened again. “Choi Minho.” 

“Good luck,” Kibum whispered as Minho stood. Minho flashed him a bright smile, and Kibum held his breath until the office door snapped shut behind him. 

Whatever was going on in there, she seemed to be taking her sweet time with Minho. Or maybe it was just Kibum’s own imagination. When Minho eventually did emerge, he was no longer smiling. In fact, he ducked his head, avoiding everyone’s curious gazes as he hurried to the trapdoor. 

His fingers tapped incessantly and unconsciously against his thigh as he waited. Several other students were called up before Kibum was. He had to pry himself off of the ottoman by the time his name was called, and he trudged across the room to her office. 

Professor Trelawney was sitting behind a table that held a crystal ball in the center of it. Oh, . “Please take a seat, Mr. Kim.” He moved aside as the door closed and sat across from her, his eyes trailing down to the clear crystal ball. “Now, what you need to do is simple. Take a deep breath, my child -- “ he tried not to roll his eyes as he obeyed “ -- and clear your mind. Drain your thoughts to nothingness. ‘Til all is silent and waiting to see what the crystal desires to share with you.” 

Kibum took another deep breath, closing his eyes as he did. Maybe he could bull his way through this. But, the odds of passing after that were probably slim. Slowly, he leaned forward toward the ball and opened his eyes. A cloud of gray mist erupted inside, and Kibum propped his elbow up as he waited for it to clear.

It didn’t. Time to bull.

He started to speak but paused. “Is there supposed to be water inside the ball?”

Trelawney closed her eyes and leaned her head back. “What is it that you see? Tell me.” 

“Uh, it looks like rain on a window.” The clouds rolled inside, the gray underbelly darkening. “It looks like there will be a storm soon.” He flinched as lightning crackled soundlessly inside. “Yup, definitely a storm coming.”

“What kind of storm do you think it is, my son?”

“Uh...thunder?”

“No, no...will it be a physical or emotional storm?” Kibum bit his lip, shrinking back in his seat. He gulped as he looked back at the storm brewing inside the crystal.  “I see.” She opened her eyes, staring at him with her glasses-magnified gaze. “I wish you well, my child, and I hope peace finds you soon.” Trelawney gestured for him to stand, the door opening of its own accord. “As the crystal demands, speak of this to no one.” 

Kibum nodded, jumping when she called for Damien Brent. He moved from the doorway, keeping his eyes trained on the floor as he made his way to the trap door. As he peeked through the hole, he spotted Minho sitting against the wall with some of the others who were waiting for their friends. Kibum stepped down onto the first rung and started to climb down. 

Minho came around to his side as he made it to the ground. “Did you pass?”

“Maybe? She didn’t say.”

“Were you able to see something?”

Kibum squinted at him before he started for the stairs, Minho right on his heels. “She said the crystal demands that we don’t talk about it.”

“She said that to me, too,” Minho threw his head back with a sigh and a laugh. “I thought it was just because of what I saw.” Despite his burning curiosity, Kibum knew better than to ask. “Do you think O’Neely was lying about the Hogsmeade visit after finals?”

“Why would he lie to us?” Minho shrugged as they walked down the hallway toward the tower with the moving staircases. “I don’t know if I want to go. You can, if you want,” he added when Minho gasped. “I don’t have any money.”

They braced themselves on the banister when the staircase shifted beneath them. “I’ll buy! I still have a little leftover Christmas money.” 

“You don’t ha -- “

“But I want to, so there.” He hopped off the staircase when it came to a stop. “Come on, we don’t have much time.” 

They hurried -- as fast as the staircases would allow them -- to the third floor, where Kibum walked Minho to his Arithmancy classroom. He wished him good luck before he made his way back to the stairs and took the steps two at a time until he reached the ground floor. He jogged to catch up to Analecia, who was almost to the Muggle Studies classroom at the end of the hall. Kibum followed her inside, and they sat at their usual desk.

Professor Chanin was already inside, looking over some scrolls at her desk. When Kibum and Analecia sat down, she put down her quill and looked up. “Are we all here? Good.” She stood and walked around the desk, sticking her hands in the pockets of her royal blue pantsuit as she leaned against the edge of her desk. “So, this exam will be slightly different than the ones that we’ll be doing in the future. I’ve only been teaching you since March, and I’m impressed by your progress in the curriculum, but we’re still far behind where we should be.

“Not that that is your fault in the slightest, of course. I’m very proud of you all.” Her gaze flicked to Kibum for a second, her deep brown eyes twinkling. “But, I did have to get a bit creative for this exam, and my thought was that you write an essay -- just a scroll’s length, nothing too long -- on the benefits and detriments of the rift between Muggles and wizards. Specifically for the Muggles. 

“They won’t necessarily be graded, but rather they’ll give me a good idea of everyone’s current state of mind considering the subject. As of right now, you all are getting an Exceeds Expectations on your report cards. So, don’t stress too much. Just...write out your thoughts, not what you think I want to hear.” She turned to sit back down, and scrolls and quills appeared before them. “You may begin.”

Kibum unraveled his and scribbled his name across the top. It was lucky that he and Minho had discussed this last night, so his opinion was still somewhat fresh in his mind. He made quick work of the scroll then reread it to check for spelling errors. Once the ink dried, he let the scroll roll back up before he got up to give it to Professor Chanin. He blinked in surprise as he walked through a wall of air, similar to the one Flitwick would use during his exams. He took another step forward and popped his ears.

“Thank you, Mr. Kim,” she said as she took the scroll from him. “I’m looking forward to teaching you next year.”

“I’m looking forward to it, too. It’s...nice to be excited about this class again.”

She eyed him, a smile quickly brightening her expression. “I’m happy to hear that. I hope you have a good summer.”

Kibum hoped his countenance didn’t fall too much as he nodded. “You too, Professor.” 

He turned and hurried out of the classroom when Damien stepped through the wall of air to hand in his essay, heaving a sigh of relief. He made it; he finished third year. Unscathed? No, but he made it. Sighing again, Kibum made his way downstairs to Slytherin so he could get a headstart on packing for the journey home tomorrow.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Good luck!” 

“You, too!” Minho called out as Kibum jogged back toward the staircase. He watched him until his head dipped below the stairs then hurried inside. 

Priyasha was the only one there so far, and Minho smiled at her as he took his seat at his desk. He glanced about the room, his stomach churning when he saw all the alphabet charts were now blurred. Did he have them memorized? The only one he could sort of remember right now was the Agrippan chart. He tapped his thumb against his leg, an irregular rhythm. “,” he muttered under his breath, his chest tightening as he tried to fill his lungs with short, uneven breaths.

It wouldn’t do to panic right now. 

He could do this; he understood the material. Minho closed his eyes, making a point to breathe deeply. As he exhaled slowly, he centered himself in his seat, forcing himself to calm. 

He could do this. 

When he opened his eyes, he felt better, if only marginally. Professor Vector was in the classroom now, bustling about as she tidied up the shelves behind her desk. It was probably the same for Hogwarts professors as it was for Muggle teachers on the last day of school. His teachers back in Korea were always very excited for the school year to be over. 

What sort of things did Hogwarts professors do during summer vacation? Did they stay in the castle? Travel? He snorted quietly when he pictured Professor Crowell lounging on the beach, reading, probably, in her long burgundy velvet robes. Or O’Neely and Flitwick -- the tallest and the shortest professors -- teaming up to play beach volleyball together. O’Neely would be really good at that...he seemed like he would be the athletic type…

In his mind’s eye, O’Neely just threw the ball up in the air, his t-shirt riding up a bit when he jumped and connected with the volleyball and served it successfully over the net. Minho gulped as the vision slowed when O’Neely’s feet touched the ground again and he grinned, his smile as dazzling as the summer sun.  

“Everyone here?” Vector asked, snapping Minho out of his reverie. He blinked rapidly, slightly shaking his head, and glanced over at the previously empty desks. All the girls were here now. “I hope you have the Agrippan chart memorized because that’s all you need today.” Minho let out a quiet relieved sigh. It was all coming back to him. The Agrippan chart was the most simple to remember, and the one they had worked with the most so far. 

He could do this.

“We’ve been working with your names for all of our calculations, so what I want you to do for this exam is to take the name of your sibling or friend or parent and calculate each of the numbers we’ve discussed, as well as write what the meaning for each number.” 

.

There were four different numbers to calculate, and each of them had nine different meanings. Whatever. He would do his absolute best, but not get too upset with himself if he messed up a meaning or two. Well, he’d try not to.

“Even though it shouldn’t take you too long, go ahead and take your time. And make sure to show your work as well as double check it. I know it’s just simple addition, but mistakes can still be made.” She snapped her fingers, and a sheet of parchment and a quill and ink bottle appeared on every desk. “Begin.”

The first thing Minho wrote -- even before his own name -- was the Agrippan chart on the top of the page. Then he got started, for a moment, he debated between Minseok and Kibum, but Minseok’s numbers were so close to his own that it felt like he’d be cheating if he did that. So, he wrote out K I M  K I  B U M beneath his name and started his calculations.

He added up his birth date -- 2 + 3 + 9 + 1 + 9 + 9 + 1 -- and reduced it down to seven, which was his life path number. Below it, he wrote Curious and skeptical, always searching to find meaning in his life. Minho couldn’t remember the rest of the description, so that would have to do.

For his destiny number, he added up the values of his name -- 2 + 9 + 4 + 2 + 9 + 2 + 3 + 4 -- and reduced it down to eight, which he already knew. How had he worded it last night when Kibum asked what it meant? He brushed the feather end of the quill across his chin until he remembered. Ambitious, loyal to those he’s closest to, and very hard working, he wrote below his calculations.

The heart number was just adding up the vowels -- 9 + 9 + 3 -- which he reduced down to three. Minho smiled to himself as he started writing the description. This one was the easiest because their heart number was the same. Very energetic and can be quite artistic. Funny, too. Easy going, for the most part, and often considered to be lucky.

Like the heart number, the social number was only the consonants -- 2 + 4 + 2 + 2 + 4 -- which he reduced down to five. Another number they shared, except that five was Minho’s life path number. Adaptable, willing to change or take risks. Likes to live life adventurously.

He exhaled slowly, scanning the chart he made first to see if he had messed it up before he went back to check his work. When everything seemed to be in order, he stood and handed in his exam and quill. Only Chloe and Camila remained, and he gave Camila a thumbs-up and a grin when she looked up at him as he left the classroom. 

Done with third year already...it was sort of hard to believe. Four years until graduation, and then what? What would he do? “Stop,” he muttered to himself, lightly smacking his cheek. Four years was plenty of time to figure out what he wanted to do after school. 

He meandered down the stairs, taking his time on his way back to Hufflepuff. It was so quiet, with most everyone taking exams or studying, it was sort of surreal. He passed a trio of ghosts chatting amongst themselves, and he averted his eyes so they wouldn’t try to interact with him. Some of the paintings greeted him, but most minded their own business. 

There were only a couple of students milling about the Hufflepuff common room. Minho walked around them as he made his way back to his dorm room. He locked the door with a spell before he changed out of his uniform and into a pair of jeans, sneakers, and a Lebron James t-shirt. When would Kibum be done with his exam? He hummed thoughtfully as he folded up his robe and uniform and set them in his drawer in the dresser. 

It wouldn’t hurt to go check. Besides, he knew the Slytherin password, now, so he could let himself in. Minho pocketed his wand and the two Galleons and five Sickles he had left, so he’d be ready to go to Hogsmeade whenever Kibum was. He checked his pockets twice, just to make sure he had his money and wand before he headed back outside Hufflepuff. 

“Smaragdus!” he said when he was standing before Slytherin, tapping the snake symbol on the brick. He stepped back as the wall disassembled itself to let him inside, then walked in as casually as possible. It still felt awkward to just...come in, especially without Kibum beside him. And even more so when the Slytherin students stopped what they were doing in the common room to watch him walk through and to the dorms. Like they were doing right then. Minho stuffed his hands in his pockets, the change inside clinking together, as he did his best to avoid their eyes. 

He made his way down the hall to the third year boys dorm, knocking lightly. “Bummie?”

The door creaked open to reveal a confused Kibum, his robe hanging halfway off. “You’re finished?”

“No, I’m still taking the exam. I just wanted to have a break in the middle.”

Kibum blinked, rolling his eyes at Minho’s sarcasm. “And I’m supposed to feel honored that you decided to visit me during your break?”

“I’d prefer it, yes.” Minho grinned as he walked past him and into the room, plopping down on Kibum’s bed. “How’d you do?”

“Not bad, I think. We’ll see. You?”

“Same. You gonna be ready to head out, soon?” 

Kibum scoffed. “Yeah, yeah. Give me a minute to change and we can go.” 

He changed quickly into an oversized pale yellow t-shirt that had a short word written in kanji -- “It means ‘Miracle’,” Kibum said when Minho asked -- and a pair of jeans that Minho had let him borrow over the course of the year -- “You can keep those by the way.” “You sure?” “No, I’m just kidding I want them back this instant.” -- and sneakers over one of the pairs of socks Minho had gotten him for Christmas. They were the ones that had looked like a summer’s day, with the clouds moving through the sky across the knit.

“Ready?” Kibum asked as he grabbed his wand out of his robe that lay crumpled up beside Minho.

“Yup.”

They grabbed a couple of sandwiches from the Great Hall before the headed down the road to Hogsmeade. A few other people had the same idea as them, but they were too far ahead for Minho and Kibum to catch up with them. Not that they wanted to, of course.

The sun was at its zenith in the cloudless sky as they walked along. The Black Lake glittered in the sunlight, even though the outcropping of trees blocked his view. He crumbled up his napkin and shoved it in his pocket when he finished eating. As excited as he was about going back to Korea, Minho still didn’t want to leave Hogwarts. And, he knew that Kibum didn’t want to go home either. 

What would it be like if they just stayed here over the summer? There were some students that did, so he knew it was a possibility. They’d probably help around the castle, and get to explore places that they wouldn’t be able to see during the school year. Or go swimming in the Black Lake, if it wasn’t too cold. He glanced back at the lake, and he could almost see himself and Kibum splashing around between the trees.

“What’s wrong?” Kibum asked. Minho blinked and the vision was gone. 

“Nothing, why?”

“You just sighed, that’s all.” 

“Oh.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, jingling his change together until Kibum smack his arm. “Hey.” He laughed. “What was that for?”

“You’re being annoying.” 

He was about to make a joke but then he looked over at Kibum, his heart sinking at the faraway look in his eye. “So,” he said, drawing out the word. “When is Jonghyun supposed to get back?”

“Uh, three weeks from tomorrow.” 

Minho counted the days on his fingers. “Oh, so the day we head out?” 

“Yeah. No actual plans have been made yet, but...we should still have fun, no matter what.” 

“Of course.” It was hard not to have fun with Jonghyun around. For his part, he was relieved that Jonghyun would be there for Kibum this summer. 

Beside him, Kibum gulped. “Are...are you sure I’m not a bad person? For not wanting to see her?”

Minho glanced at the people before and behind them before he took Kibum’s hand. “Absolutely.”

“Then why do I feel like a bad person?” 

He squeezed Kibum’s hand. “I don’t know, Bummie.” He didn’t know what to say to help Kibum feel better -- he never did, really. They walked a couple more paces, their joined hands swinging between them before Minho let go and slung his arm over Kibum’s shoulders. Kibum seemed to relax into his side, and Minho patted his arm as they continued on. 

They visited all of Kibum’s favorite shops, just looking, not actually shopping. At Gladrags, they split up when Minho suggested that they pick out the weirdest outfit they could find for each other and then try it on. Minho took a deep breath before he strutted out of the changing room in a pair of baggy fuschia shag-carpet-looking pants, a shimmery lime-green button up shirt, a vest made from who knows how many animal skins, and a weirdly twisted violet wizards hat. He posed as he walked out as if there were cameras and he was on a runway, and Kibum was almost crying laughing as he latched onto Minho’s shoulder for support.

“, I wish I had brought my camera,” he said, wiping the tears from his eyes as they both looked in the mirror. 

The outfit Minho picked for Kibum was not as terrifying as the one Kibum chose for him. It was a red and orange plaid suit with a blue and pink leopard print tuxedo shirt underneath. Sure, the colors and combination of patterns were outrageous and it was a little baggy on him since it was for an adult man, but somehow, Kibum was pulling it off. Effortlessly. 

“Yeah, me too.” 

Soon, they were changed into their normal clothes and they left Gladrags empty-handed, despite Kibum’s insistence that Minho should buy the fuschia pants for himself. At Honeydukes, Minho bought a blood lollipop for Minseok and a box of Fudge Flies for Jonghyun, with the promise that they’d both write with what their reactions were. They perused other shops for a while but ended up going to Three Broomsticks to share a butterbeer before they headed back for the castle. 

Kibum took a quick sip and squinted as he the foam from his upper lip. “I always forget how sweet that is.” He pushed it over to Minho's side of the table, and he up some of the marshmallowy froth before he tipped it back to take a drink. 

“I can almost feel cavities forming.” He wiped his mouth off on his sleeve. Kibum looked around at the boisterous crowd of students and Hogsmeade residents, his expression a little brighter than it had been in weeks. Minho smiled before he took another drink. 

“We should head back soon, huh…”

“I suppose.” Kibum took the frosted mug back. “We've still got a while before we have to pack. We can stay a bit longer.”

“Okay.” Dimples barely indented his cheeks, and Minho couldn't help but let out a little sigh of relief. Whatever happened this summer, he knew that Kibum would be okay. Candlelight twinkled in his eyes, and Minho lowered his gaze to the mug between them. “What?” Kibum asked, a slight laugh dancing in his voice. 

Minho shook his head and covered his smile with the mug as he took another drink. “I was just picturing Minseok's reaction to the lollipop.” A lie. Well, more like a fib.

Kibum chuckled. “Yeah, I can't wait to see Jjong's.”

He'd be okay. They both would have fun this summer. Minho just knew...he'd be counting down the days until school started again. 

An ache clenched his heart, and he took another drink of the butterbeer in the hopes that he could drive it away.

* * * * *

A/N: So, I know we’ve seen Minho’s (and occasionally Kibum’s) obvious crush on Professor O'Neely a couple of times, but I just want to make something very clear. There will not be any sort of inappropriate teacher/student relationship, because that’s gross. O'Neely is 1) definitely not a e, 2) very straight, and 3) very happily married. Students having crushes on or admiration for their teacher is a very normal thing. He’s a kind mentor for him, and it’s only natural that Minho would look up to him…Also, he’s coming to terms with the fact that he is a gay child/teenager, which is a lot to process lol

Here's the recipe for pumpkin pasties! Let me know if you tried it! ^^