The cheering from the stadiums was so loud that it almost drowned out the sound of All-Star playing at the end of the bench. Minho bobbed his head along to the song as he tied on his padded leather greaves. The team was quiet today, more than likely anxious for the new season to start off well. Minho was, at least. He patted the leather covering of his greaves, making sure the straps were secure before he moved to put on the other one. 

It would be his first game as a Beater, not the Seeker. Meg had been working with him quite a lot during the past few weeks, making sure he was ready to go. “Protect your teammates and distract the opposition,” she kept telling him over and over. Protect and distract, protect and distract. It was like a mantra in his head now. When he wasn’t honing his newfound skills as a Beater during practice, he was working with Sam to make sure she was ready to go. He glanced over at her now, his gaze slipping to her shaking hands as she put on her gloves. 

All-Star ended, and everyone’s attention snapped to Meg where she was helping Melissa into her gear. Cameron switched off the cassette player when Meg cleared . “Are we ready?” While the rest of the team answered with affirmative hums or nods, Minho’s eyes went back to Sam, who gave no indication of hearing the question. “All right, let’s go, kids!” 

“Hey, you can’t call us kids,” Claire said, scoffing as she stood. “Most of us are seventh years, like you.”

“And as the oldest of you all, that makes you my children,” Meg said, laughing when Melissa smacked the back of her head on the way out of the locker room.

Minho stood to follow the others out to the pitch, but when Sam didn’t move from her place on the bench, he stood still. “You doing okay?”

“Y-yeah.” 

He glanced beyond her to the open door before he sat down next to her. “It’s okay to be nervous, you know. I am. The others probably are, too.”

She met his gaze with wide eyes. “Really?” 

His brow furrowed as he nodded, then he smiled. “It’s scary being up there on the broom in front of everyone. It’d be weird not to be nervous.” She let out a quiet chuckle at that. “And, don’t worry. Even if you don’t happen to catch the Snitch today, the team won’t hold it against you. It took me forever to catch it during a game, and they didn’t hate me because of it.” 

She nodded slowly, squeezing her hands into fists a couple of times. “Okay. Thanks, Minho.” 

He followed her out to the pitch, directing her to fetch her broomstick from the cupboard before they ran across the field to join the others in their stretches. Meg and Jeffery were talking with Madam Hooch in the center of the pitch, and once the whistle was blown, everyone scrambled with the broomsticks to meet her, huddling together.

“So, they’ve got two second years and a fresh sixth year, so we’ve got a bit of an advantage.”

“Who’s their Seeker?” 

“Brent, still…” 

Minho’s -- as well as the rest in the huddle -- eyes slid to Sam for a second. “He’s got a couple of years on you, but don’t worry,” he said quietly. “Just remember to stay focused.”

She nodded, and Minho glanced across the huddle at Meg, who gave him a faint smile. “Just remember, kids, we’re here to have fun!”

“Are you just calling us kids because you’re eighteen now and the rest of us aren’t?”

“Shut the up and respect your elders.” She stuck her hand in the middle of the huddle, everyone placing theirs on top. “Badgers on three...One...two...Badgers!” 

The huddle broke, and everyone hurried to their places, Minho directing Sam to her spot before he went to stand beside Meg in his new position. Everyone turned their backs so Hooch could make sure they were in the right places, and when Minho turned around, he locked eyes with Damien, who happened to be staring at him incredulously. Minho looked away, mounting his broom when Hooch blew the whistle and then soaring up into the air when she blew it again. 

He flew right up to the line separating Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, on the left side of the pitch while Meg took the right. A steady wind buffeted him, and he struggled to stay still while Hooch released the Snitch. “Hey!” he heard Damien call from the Gryffindor side, but he didn’t bother to look up. “Did you get tired of so bad that you had to ask a girl to take your place?”  

Minho let out a heavy sigh at the snickering of the Gryffindors, and looked up to find Marc, their lead Chaser watching him. He gave him a thumbs up with a slight tilt of his head, and Minho nodded, returning the gesture.  

“Let's go, Minho! Let's go!” Kibum yelled somewhere behind him. When he started the cheer again, this time joined by his dorm mates, Minho couldn't help but smile. He spared Damien a quick glance before Hooch tossed the Quaffle into the air.

Marc caught it, and Minho slipped the bat out of its leather sheath on his back when Hooch released the Bludgers a second later. Meg tapped her bat against her broomstick once, then twice after that, and team spurred into action. 

When he automatically started to search for a tiny hint of gold in the air, he squeezed his eyes shut before he looked back to the play. “Don’t focus on the Snitch...don’t,” he muttered to himself, his voice lost in the wind as he flew across the field to the other side. He found one of the Bludgers as it hurtled toward Claire, who was waiting for Marc to pass the Quaffle to her. Minho adjusted his grip on his bat as he dropped below the play and hurried to her rescue, cracking the Bludger away from them as the Quaffle flew over his head. 

“Thanks,” she said quickly as she whisked herself away and toward the goalposts. 

He twirled the bat around in his hand, scanning the pitch before he noticed the Bludger making its return to him. His eyes darted back to the play, looking for the right direction to hit it in… Damien was right on the tip of Sam’s broom, chasing after her as she followed the tiny flash of gold. Meg was closer but preoccupied with a scuffle between Cameron and two of Gryffindor’s Chasers. 

Minho tapped his thumb against the hilt of the bat as he raised it, calculating the necessary trajectory to throw Damien off course by a hit to his twigs -- which wasn’t technically a foul since he wasn’t aiming for the actual stick. He swung the bat with a grunt and watched as the Bludger zoomed through the air, just barely missing the tip of Damien’s twigs. Minho his teeth and shifted his attention back to the Bludger as he flew back toward him. 

He soared up to meet it so he could try again, only to hear: “Samantha Wiggins has caught the Snitch! Hufflepuff wins!” 

What…

For a second, the crowd went almost completely silent. It was broken when Meg let out a holler that prompted the rest the Hufflepuffs in the air and in the stands to follow.

Minho stared at where Sam had tumbled on the ground and was now scrambling to her feet, holding out the Snitch for Madam Hooch to take. He blinked once, twice before he glanced back at the Bludger hurtling toward him. In one swift move, he smacked it down with his bat, watching as it stuck in the grass below him. Inhaling deeply, he slid his bat back into its sheath. 

As much as he wanted to fly down and congratulate Sam for her speed at catching the Snitch -- neither Gryffindor nor Hufflepuff had scored before she did -- he couldn’t seem to make himself move. 

All the others did, of course, all rallying around her in their excitement. 

Minho gulped, and let himself drop to the ground, hopping off his broom before he landed. Why the was he upset by this? Hufflepuff won! The first game of the season, they won! He should be ecstatic like the others, but… He pried the Bludger out of the ground, holding it firmly in one arm as it struggled to free itself. Once he reached the kit at the center of the pitch, he forced the Bludger back into it, locking it in place. His grip around his broomstick tightened as he moved to join the others, giving them the happiest smile he could muster at the moment. 

He wasn’t entirely sure it was convincing.

“I’ve got a really good feeling about this year!” Meg said as she gave Sam a third hug. “Hold on, guys, I’m gonna go ask Hooch if we can celebrate at Hogsmeade.” 

She darted away from the group and over to where Hooch was collecting the rest of the balls. “Great job out there, today, Minho!” Claire said, drawing his attention away from Meg. The others echoed her, Marc patting him on the back with a wide grin. 

“Thanks,” he managed to say, his gaze flicking to meet Sam’s for a second. “You did really good today, Sam.” 

She beamed at him and looked as though she was going to return the compliment, but she was cut off by another round of praise by the team. Tears pricked Minho’s eyes, and he blinked them away, glancing away from the huddle and up to the stands where he knew Kibum was...or had been, as they were almost empty. He started when an arm slipped around his waist, and he looked over to see that Meg had returned.

“Okay, so, Hooch said we all could go to Hogsmeade -- yes, even you, Sam -- but this is just a one-time thing. How about we all get showered and then meet in the courtyard by...3 o’clock? Does that work for everyone? Marc, what time is it?”

He looked at his watch. “2:25 now.”

“Yeah, 3 o’clock then. Butterbeers on me.” She grinned when the others cheered. “Now, hurry up and go shower, kids. You all smell gross.”

* * * * * * * * * *

“Samantha Wiggins has caught the Snitch! Hufflepuff wins!” 

Kibum jumped out of his seat, turning toward Travis and held both of his hands up for a double high-five, which Travis enthusiastically gave him. He winced when Seb started to yell in his excitement behind him and turned away with a smile when Travis joined him. No one had been expecting Hufflepuff to win the first game of the season, not even him. 

He looked to the pitch, searching the air for Minho and expecting to find him overjoyed, but…

Kibum blinked in surprise when Minho hit the Bludger down towards the ground with enough force to make it stick in the grass. Not an easy feat, if any of the other games were anything to go by. His expression sobered as he watched Minho freefall on his broom to retrieve the Bludger. 

What was wrong? They had won. It didn’t make any sense.

From his cursory glance around the bleachers, it didn’t seem like anyone else had caught on to Minho’s apparent dark mood. Maybe he was just imagining things? He stood, maneuvering around the others as they were making their way to the stairwell, and walked up to the banister. Minho was still too far away for Kibum to be able to read his expression, but...yeah, something was off. He watched as he rejoined his team, but then turned and followed the stragglers down the stairs. 

He shoved his hands in his pockets as he broke off from the group and went over to where Minho and his team would be coming out of the hallway. Callum and Aaron turned around and he waved them on to the castle.

Clouds were creeping over the Black Lake and the Forbidden Forest, their gray underbellies promising rain. Hopefully, it wouldn’t start until they got back from Hogsmeade. Sighing, Kibum slid down the wall until he was sitting cross-legged in the grass. He leaned over, peering down the hall to find the locker room still closed. His head knocked back against the wall as he looked across the lawn at the castle and the trees skirting around the base of it. 

Autumn came so soon. 

There were hints of it on his way back from the funeral -- smatterings of orange and yellow and red in the trees -- but now it was in full swing. Not that he minded. It was Minho’s favorite time of year -- he assumed since Minho had never said so explicitly. But, he didn’t drag him outside in winter or spring to walk through the forest, looking up at the trees and leaves in wonder. The little puffs steam whenever he made a comment when they were outside, taking in the autumn colors, always seemed to amuse him. 

Kibum was always on the cold side of chilly whenever they went on one of these excursions, which meant that Minho would end up giving him his jacket, or just slinging his arm over his shoulder and pulling him closer to share his warmth. 

His gaze landed on Merlin’s Beard, the little copse of trees leading to the lake on the far side of the castle, and he smiled faintly. No, he didn’t mind autumn at all. 

Someone above him cleared their throat, and Kibum glanced up, rolling his eyes when he saw that it was only Minho. He sniffed a laugh when Kibum flicked his shin. “Good job today,” Kibum said, holding his hand out for Minho to help him up. 

“Thanks,” he said, his smile grimmer than he had been expecting to see. Yeah, something was definitely wrong. He was about to ask, but then two of Minho’s teammates breezed past them. “Hey, I gotta go shower real quick. Do you want to come to Hogsmeade with us soon?” 

“Is it, like, a team thing?”

“Yeah, but -- “

“Is that okay?”

Minho’s brow furrowed and he glanced back down the hallway. “Hey, Meg! Can Kibum come with?” 

“To Hogsmeade?” she asked, her voice echoing in the empty corridor. “Sure, I’m only buying for the team, though.” He looked back at Kibum, his eyebrows raising in question. 

“That’s fine. I have some money from Mom.” 

Meg came into view, disappearing behind Minho for a second before she grabbed the back of his jersey. “Come on, Choi, you can talk to him later.” Minho pouted at him as she dragged him away. “We’re meeting in the courtyard!” she called over her shoulder as she let go of Minho’s jersey, and giving him a shove toward the castle. His high-pitched laugh reverberated across the lawn, which in turn made Kibum smile. 

He followed them, at a distance, Minho and Meg stepping inside by the time he reached the first of the greenhouses. As he walked past, he held out his hand, tracing his fingers over the planes of glass. What would the greenhouse at home look like, when he got back? Would Mrs. Prue or Jonghyun’s mom take care of it when Mom was away? His throat tightened as he swallowed, looking about the garden. Her garden, too...who would tend to that, now?

Looking back now, most of his best afternoons were spent by Grandma’s tending to her many plants. Even though he hated the weeding, he enjoyed the time spent with her, hearing her talk about Mom and Dad when they were young. But now...a shiver swept through him as the breeze picked up, and his eyes settled on the row of tomato plants and the weeds below them. 

With a heavy sigh, Kibum went over and crouched beside the first one, pulling out the first weed. Then another, and another. Tiny piles accumulated at his feet as he made his way down the row, picking the earth clean. It was cathartic in a way that he wasn’t expecting. If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel the summer sun beating down on his back. He could almost hear her voice, her laugh... 

Almost.

So, he kept pulling weeds until he reached the end of the row. He would have moved on to the next, but he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. It was Minho, and he was following one of the other Quidditch guys. Kibum stood, brushing his dirty hands off on his jeans, and jogged to catch up to him. 

Minho smiled at him once he reached his side, and they hung towards the back of the group as they started off towards Hogsmeade. “You okay?” Minho asked after a minute, once the others were a bit ahead of them. Kibum nodded, and Minho glanced down at his nose. “You’ve got some dirt there.” 

When he reached up to wipe it away, Minho just chuckled. “Your hands are dirty, too, hold on.” He stopped walking, his thumb, and cupped Kibum’s chin with the tips of his fingers while he rubbed away the dirt. “Better,” he smiled, averting his eyes once Kibum met his gaze. “What were you doing to get so dirty?”

“Weeding.” When Minho laughed, Kibum clicked his tongue. “I’m serious, that’s what I was doing!” 

Minho looked as though he was about to ask why, but the words seemed to die on his lips. He remembered those afternoons, too, it seemed, from the week he was there. When he started towards Hogsmeade again, he slung his arm over Kibum’s shoulders, giving him a tight squeeze as they walked along the path. 

They reached the Three Broomsticks last, picking up their pace when they saw Marc holding the door open for them. He pointed at the table where the others were, except for Meg and Cameron, who were up at the counter ordering the butterbeers for the table. Minho sat down and looked up at Kibum when he didn’t. “I’m getting pumpkin juice instead. We can share both if you want?” 

“Sounds good.” He draped his arm over the back of the empty chair next to him, saving it for Kibum as he walked away. He ordered his drink, placing to Sickles on the sticky countertop, and returned to the table before Meg was back with the butterbeers. 

He took a couple of sips off the top before he passed the tankard to Minho. Meg and Cameron soon arrived, the frothy butterbeer sloshing over the sides of the tankards as they passed them around the table. “So, who else was expecting to lose today?” she asked, laughing when everyone but Marc raised their hands. She leaned toward the Samantha, clinking their glasses together. “Here’s hoping for a 3-0 season! We’re off to a good start!” 

Kibum smiled, glancing over at Minho when he raised his tankard with the others. Minho’s own smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and Kibum searched his profile for any more clues as to what was bothering him, because something definitely was.

Could he be upset that they won the game today? If so, why?

He looked away when Minho met his gaze momentarily, worrying his bottom lip before he took another drink of his pumpkin juice. When Meg started talking to Claire about the particulars of one of the plays, Kibum turned to Minho again, pulling on his shoulder so he could whisper “Hey, you okay?” in Minho’s ear.

Minho only nodded before he picked up the pumpkin juice and returned his attention to his team. Kibum frowned at him before he took Minho’s butterbeer. He didn’t move to drink it, though. He just held it as he listened to the team as they told Samantha how good she did for her first time playing an actual game. When Melissa excused herself to go use the restroom, Minho stood, excusing himself as well. Except when Kibum turned to watch him go, he didn’t go down the dark hallway leading to the lavatory. 

He went outside instead. 

Kibum could only wait until he took one last sip of Minho’s butterbeer before he stood. No one took notice to him leaving the table, it seemed, which was fine by him. He slipped outside, scanning the busy lane for a glimpse of Minho. Which shop would he go to right now? No, if he was upset, he’d want some privacy. Which meant he was either on his way back to Hogwarts or hiding somewhere in Hogsmeade. 

Sighing heavily, Kibum glanced around before he went around to the back of the Three Broomsticks. He peeked around the trash bins and the log pile, without any luck. When he turned around, the tension in his shoulders released as he spotted Minho, sitting against the back of Dogweed and Deathcap. His head was down and hands were fisted in his hair. Had been hitting himself again? Kibum couldn't be sure. He didn’t wait for Minho to look up and acknowledge him. He made his way over, sidling up next to him -- shoulder to shoulder -- his touch making his presence known. 

When Minho didn’t move away from him, Kibum relaxed, leaning his head back against the siding as he looked out over the countryside. Rain was already coming down over the moors, which mean it was only a matter of time before it reached them. When Minho let out a shuddered sigh, Kibum looked back at him, his heart aching when his fists tightened in his hair.

“You sure seem okay,” he said softly, gaining a quiet scoff from Minho. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know.” 

Kibum looked up at the fast-approaching storm, shivering a little. “Would you rather sit here or head back to the castle? I’m okay with either.” 

Minho took his hands out of his hair when Kibum’s teeth started to chatter, little tufts sticking up this way and that. He hefted himself up before he helped Kibum stand, and he followed Kibum as he led the way out of Hogsmeade. “Why am I such a up?” he mumbled once they were alone on the path back to the castle. 

“What?” Kibum couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice. “What makes you think that?”

“She caught it. Sam caught the Snitch. First try. It took me almost two ing years to do that. Why? Why the am I still playing? It doesn’t make any sense.” 

“That’s what’s bothering you?” Minho closed his eyes with a sigh, and Kibum grabbed his arm to make him stop walking. “Min, I’m not trying to downplay it, I’m just trying to understand.” 

Any fire in Minho’s eyes was extinguished by the tears welling up in its stead. “What’s the point of even playing if I’m just gonna . I bring the team down...you heard them, right? ‘Who wasn’t expecting to win?’” He sniffed, rubbing his nose as he looked down at their feet. “That’s because of me. They expect to lose because I’m there.” 

Kibum squeezed his arm. “I’m sure they didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Probably not.” With a huff, Minho shook Kibum’s hand off of his arm and started walking again, Kibum on his heels. “Do you think...Is it...Should I keep playing Quidditch?” Kibum’s brow furrowed. “Like, is it worth it?” 

“That’s not something I can decide for you.” Beside him, Minho let out a long sigh. “You can’t let me -- or anyone -- tell you what to do. This is purely your choice.” He watched Minho as they walked, waiting for him to nod. When he did, “Now, that being said, do I personally think you’re good enough to continue to play?” Minho turned his head toward him, waiting for the answer. “Of course!” 

Minho met his gaze then, his eyes wide. “Really?” 

“I’ve been to every single one of your games and a lot of your practices...You’re really good! And, no, I’m not just saying that because you’re my favorite person here.” Minho smiled bashfully at that, and Kibum lost his train of thought for a second. “You are good. You know the plays, you look out for your teammates, you’ve studied the rules. I can honestly say I don’t think there’s a person here who’s more dedicated to playing Quidditch than you.”

“Is that bad?” 

“No.” Kibum chuckled, leaning into Minho’s shoulder for a second. “I said all that to say...knowing you like I do...if you quit now...I think you would really regret it.”

“Okay.” Minho nodded slowly, thoughtfully, looking up at the castle when it came into view. “You’re right.” 

“When am I ever wrong?” Minho laughed heartily at that, and louder still when Kibum shoved him away for laughing. 

A raindrop splattered against Kibum’s cheek, then another, and another. They both looked up at the sky, and Minho was quick to shrug off his jacket, holding it over their heads while Kibum wrapped his arm around Minho’s waist. They ran the rest of the way to the castle, arriving mostly dry. Minho draped his jacket over Kibum’s shoulders and rubbed some warmth into his arms as Kibum shivered. 

“Come on,” he said, shivering himself. “Let’s go change into something warmer. We’re still studying for that Charms test, right?” he asked as they huddled together and descended the basement stairs.

“Yeah.”

“‘Kay. I’ll bring some blankets for upstairs, too.” 

Kibum nodded, and they reluctantly parted ways at the corner. Even though they would only be apart for a few moments, he was already missing his warmth. He picked up his pace, jogging over to the entrance of Slytherin. 

The faster he changed, the faster he could be back with Minho.