Autumn was in full swing now. 

Heaps of dried russet leaves lined the Forbidden Forest and Merlin’s Beard. On especially blustery days, they were blown into the Black Lake or across the lawn to collect in Sprout’s gardens or the courtyard. Sometimes the wind scattered them inside the corridors on the ground floor, but those were either swept up by Filch or carried back outside with a flick of a wand from a passing professor or seventh year. 

The leaves littered the lawn, and Kibum picked another one up, brushing the shards of the one he just crumpled between his fingers off of his lap before he started afresh. Analecia let out a sigh as she leaned against the wall of Greenhouse 1, shaking her head as she watched Minho and Gil and Callum and Aaron gathering all the leaves they could find without going too near the forest. 

Kibum chuckled, and Analecia hummed in question. “Are you regretting dating him or something?” 

“What?” She scoffed. “Of course not. He’s just…” 

Her voice trailed off, and Kibum tore his gaze away from Minho and the ever-dwindling pile of leaves he scooped up and was bringing over to the huge pile. “He’s just what?” 

She pursed her lips to keep from smiling as she met his gaze. “It’s cheesy.”

“So? I’m all interested now, so you gotta tell me.” 

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes, returning her attention to the guys. “He’s just cute when he does dumb like this.” 

Kibum sniffed in amusement, glancing at Gil before he looked back at Minho again, who was now making a show of jumping into the pile while the others clambered to make him stop. “Yeah, I can imagine that’d be cute.” 

He picked up her polaroid from around his neck, turning it on. It whirred in his hands as he lifted the camera, and he squinted through the viewfinder before he snapped a photo. Perfect timing too, because Minho had started kicking the leaves at the edge of the pile into the center and was laughing at something Aaron had just said. He caught the film as it poked out of the slot. 

“Get one of Gil, for me.” 

“Sure.”

He snapped a few of them and passed all of them to Analecia. And, just as he was putting his camera down, Minho called out, “Bummie, come on! It’s ready!” 

“Duty calls,” he said, his smile growing as he pushed himself up.

“Do you want me to hold your camera?” 

“No thanks!” he called over his shoulder as he jogged over to where Minho was. He passed the camera to him, then. “Should I just jump in?” 

“I think it should be a running jump. More dramatic that way.” 

Kibum huffed. “Fine.” He took a couple steps back before he ran at the leaf pile, twisting around as he leaped inside so that he fell on his back. Leaves shot in all directions around him, then flitted down and landed on top of his robes and his face. He blew one off of his mouth as Minho jumped in after him, landing with a thud somewhere beside him. “Is my camera alright?”

Minho’s laughter pealed across the grounds. Kibum grinned in his direction with the leaves rustled as Minho moved them aside to look over at him. “Let’s find out,” he said before he pushed himself up and over to him, resting his head against Kibum’s as he lifted the polaroid above his head. 

“Wait!” Kibum felt around, picking up the most perfect leaf he could find in a matter of seconds. He held it over his left eye. 

“Oh, good idea!” 

“Don’t copy me!” 

“I won’t, I won’t,” Minho said, chuckling as he put the stem of a leaf between his lips. He smiled then, his attention diverted back to the camera. Just before he took the picture, he said softly, “Happy birthday, Bummie.” 

As much as he wanted to keep looking at the camera, he couldn’t help but look over at Minho with what he was sure was overwhelming fondness. Dammit. He’d just have to make sure that Minho didn’t see the picture. 

“Are you two done?” Aaron asked, and Kibum’s gaze snapped up to see that the other four were standing over them, their expressions masks of bewilderment or mild amusement. Minho spit out his leaf and made to stand, while Kibum slipped his leaf behind his ear after he pushed himself up. 

They played in the leaves, destroying and reforming the pile several times, until the bell for lunch rang. Minho and Gil didn’t even bother with going over to their table. Instead, they followed Kibum and Analecia to Slytherin’s table, brushing leaves off of each other until they were sitting down for lunch. The steaming cups of cider and bowls of pumpkin stew were much appreciated after the extended romp in the chilly wind. 

The bell rang once again, and this time, Kibum, Minho, and the other six years were quick to get to their feet. Their class for today, which happened to be Potions, was set to start in five minutes. 

Minho and Gil broke off from them at the corner, jogging toward the barrels, while the others hurried toward the Slytherin entrance. "Snickers," Analecia said, tapping the coiled serpent with the tip of her wand and stepping back to let the bricks move out of the way. 

"What are those again?" Callum asked. 

"It's a Muggle candy bar."

"Ohhh…"

They gathered up their books and hurried back outside to find Minho and Gil, breathlessly waiting for them. Minho hung back while the others paired off to walk down the narrow hallway leading to the former dungeons, now Potions classroom. He fell into step beside Kibum, looking away when Kibum glanced up at him. “What?”

“Nothing.” 

Kibum huffed, smiling as they slipped into the dark corridor, heading for the golden light of Slughorn’s classroom. They set up at their usual work station -- the one closest to the fire -- and chatted with Chloe and Marvin and Amelia until Slughorn arrived, closing the door behind him. 

“Go ahead and put your books away, everyone,” he said, his reedy voice filling the room. “We’ll be brewing the Wound-Healing Potion today. I trust you all memorized the recipe?” 

He was answered with groans. Not from Kibum, though. He had been sure to memorize it when he worked on the essay last week for healing potions. Minho, however, looked a bit apprehensive. When Slughorn turned to reach for his hourglass, Kibum reached out, touching Minho's arm. "You'll do fine, buddy."

Minho, relaxing a little, glanced his way with a small smile before Slughorn flipped over his hourglass. "Go ahead and begin!"

Minho trailed behind Kibum as he made his way over to the shelves with a few of the others -- the majority of them were filling their beakers with water first. He grabbed a bunch of lavender, and Minho followed, picking up the dittany, octopus powder, dragon blood, and nettles before they returned to their workstation, dumped them on the counter, and grabbed their beakers. They joined the back of the line, moving up a step when Damien moved away from the faucet. 

"How much water?" Minho whispered without moving his lips. 

Kibum glanced over Minho's shoulder, checking to see where Slughorn's attention was. Not on them. "250 milliliters."

"Thanks. I won't ask you anything else." Kibum scoffed quietly as he met Minho's gaze, and both of them looked away before they started laughing out loud. When they returned to the work station, Minho nearly poured his water into his cauldron, but stopped when Kibum his teeth quietly. "No?" he mouthed. 

Kibum turned away from Minho, grabbing one of the mortar and pestles on the tabletop and picking the lavender off three of the stems and dropping them inside. He glanced over to make sure Minho was doing the same, smirking when Minho dropped the pestle on the tabletop. The scent of lavender filled the room now, covering his fingers and seeping into his mind. 

Grandma grew a lot of lavender. 

For this potion and several others. He couldn't think of them now. The recipe for the Wound-Healing potion flitted from his mind, and he was left with memories. Of all the scrapes and cuts he had endured, back in Korea or New York City or Nottingham. The casualties of childhood. Most treated by Grandma, since Mom and Dad were usually at work until Dad was too weak to leave his bed, who made him sit still with a freshly baked pumpkin pastie and a kiss on the forehead before she wiped his tears and dapped the purple potion on his injury. 

Now, his hand fell to the table, the last of the stems rolling out of his fingers. Strange how memories were their own form of magic. 

It was two years, today. Two years since she left him. 

He blinked, refocusing on the classroom around him. The steam curling out of the cauldrons. The bubbling of the potions. The swish of Slughorn's robes as he walked around, inspecting their work. The tingle that erupted up his arm as Minho's fingers grazed the back of his hand. 

"Are you okay?" he whispered, seemingly not caring if Slughorn heard. 

"Yeah," he said, and it wasn't a lie. Yes, it had been two years, and somehow...he was okay. The memories were fond when they returned. Not painful like they had been. Maybe not all the time, but this time, he was alright. He realized that, now.  

Minho slipped his fingers around Kibum's hand until he got a good grip, squeezing light. Kibum squeezed back, then returned his attention to his neglected lavender.

He crushed it, as coarsely as he could manage, the lit his burner with a flick of his wrist and adjusted the dial. Once the cauldron was heating, he dumped the lavender inside, stirring it with his spoon until its fragrance intensified. Then he poured the water in. 

Minho followed all of his steps, setting his beaker aside as Kibum reached for the still-warm vial of dragon's blood. He counted out five drops of the black blood into the cauldron, watching it bob and swirl on the surface, too heavy to drop into the water without agitation. Picking up his spoon again, Kibum stirred vigorously as he turned the flame up. It needed to boil, now, for a little bit. 

While he waited, he grabbed the dittany, piling the leaves from one of the sprigs before he took up the knife to cut the leaves into thin strips. 

"When do the nettles go in?" Minho asked, holding out his hand for the knife when Kibum finished cutting. "After the dittany dissolves?"

Kibum went up on his tiptoes, peering into Minho's cauldron. It looked good, just as good as his own, actually. He nodded, smiling to himself as he checked his potion. "See, you do know what you're doing." 

Minho scoffed, and if he was going to reply, he was cut off by Slughorn breezing past them. 

Kibum finished ladling a sample of his potion right as the first bell rang, and he brought the vial up to Slughorn before he gathered his things and left the classroom. Minho was right behind him, and he followed him right into the  Slytherin dorms. "Don't you have Flying today?" he asked when Minho flopped down on his bed. 

"Not for another hour." 

“Don’t make yourself too comfortable, then,” he said, tossing his Alchemy textbook beside Minho, nearly hitting him with the sharp corner.

“Wow.” He made to get up with a dramatic huff. “I know when I’m not wanted.” 

“Shut up,” Kibum said with a laugh. “If you fall asleep you’ll be grumpy all day and you know it.”

Minho sank back onto the bed, laying on his side as a boyish smirk toyed with his features.  “Pretty bold of you to assume you know me in the slightest, Kim.” 

“Is it?” Kibum asked with mock disinterest as he pointedly avoided looking Minho’s way. 

“Mhm. I’m unknowable.” 

"Please." Kibum looked up at him then, spearing him with a bemused glare. “If you were a book, I would have had you memorized years ago.” 

.

.

Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Some of Minho’s amusement dissolved, giving way to a slightly open-mouthed stare. Words rapidly fled his mind before he could figure out if they would be useful in explaining away what he just said. Minho's mouth snapped shut into a coy little smirk as he fixed Kibum with a twinkling, curious gaze. 

Luckily, or not, Callum and Aaron filed in, their conversation filling the room. Minho held Kibum's gaze for a few prolonged seconds, until Kibum started to smile and looked away, focusing instead on reorganizing his textbooks while Minho interjected in Aaron and Callum's conversation about Quidditch. 

Eventually, after he had moved his books around again...and again, he hefted himself up into his bed, sitting cross-legged beside Minho. He just listened to them talk, knowing full well that he wouldn't be able to get a word in until the bell rang. 

And even then. 

He allowed himself the occasional glance over at Minho, but didn't let his gaze linger. Not while the others were here. 

When the bell rang, both he and Aaron shot up, so they could run down to change into their Quidditch robes. "Meet you guys in the library!" Kibum called out, inclining his ear as he waited for Minho's yeah, yeah. When it came, Kibum picked up his Alchemy textbook and slid out of bed. "You gonna work on homework with us?"

"Yeah, sure," Callum mumbled from beneath his covers.

"Enjoy your nap!"

Alchemy lessons went by quickly for the next few weeks, as Slughorn was just starting to delve into plant alchemy and the theory of it. He gave a test the day before the Halloween feast to see how much information they retained. Once he collected the tests and before he could get started on explaining their homework, Priyasha got him started on a long, meandering tale about his first experiences with attempting plant alchemy and he was abruptly cut off with the ringing of the final bell of the day.

Kibum grinned at Priyasha when she turned around to grab her bag, and she gave him a cheeky wink as they started to pack up. 

Slughorn cleared his throat.

 “If you would give me a few more minutes of your time…” Kibum stopped moving, and the others sat still, looking up at Slughorn in interest. “I have some exciting news for you all that I’m sure you’re all curious about, now.” He chuckled amicably, not seeming to mind that he had them all waiting to hear what he had to say. 

Or, maybe he was relishing in it.  

“What is it, Professor?” Kibum asked, hoping to speed the process up. 

“Well, I was wondering if any of you would be interested in attending a potions competition in the spring of next year.”

“A competition?”

“Where?” 

“Why have we never heard about it, Sir?” 

“Now, now,” Slughorn said, placating them for the moment with a wave of his hands. “It’s held every seven years, starting all the way back in 1407. Come to think of it, I met Dembe Akingbade, who is the grandmother of Babajide Akingbade, who is the current Supreme Mugwump of the Confederation of Wizards. He took over after Dumbledore, but his grandmother was extraordinary. An enchanting woman, and extremely skilled at potions. She even beat me, when it came down to it, during the competition. But that’s not a surprise, given how skilled the Uagadou students are when it co -- “ 

He stopped rambling when Rhesa cleared , blinking as he looked around at all of them. 

“Oh, right, of course. Well, what I mean to say is that I will be choosing one of you to participate. Whoever gets the highest marks during the exams before Christmas will be the one who will go to Africa to compete. So, if you’re interested, be sure to study as hard as you can to prepare!” The bell rang a second time, and Slughorn looked up at the sound. “I won’t keep you any longer, I’m sure you have some studying you want to get done before dinner.” 

Stool legs scraped horribly against the stone floor. Kibum followed the others out of the dungeons and made his way down the darkened corridor, turning toward the gardens and the lawn instead of following the others to the library. He peeked around Greenhouse 3, and, when he saw that the Flying lesson was still underway, he started across the lawn, ducking into the stairwell of his usual stands. 

"Huh…" he said aloud once he found his seat.

Instead of Hooch, flying amongst Minho and the others, there was a young witch with a flame of red hair instructing them. Quite pretty, too. He cocked his head, watching her effortless flight, flips, and twists. 

"Daddy?" A small voice asked, and Kibum glanced down the stands to find a man sitting on the opposite end with a baby in his arms and two boys clambering at the banister. He ran his free hand through his already-mussed hair and pushed his glasses up his nose. "When will Mummy be done?" 

"Soon. Albus, please don't climb on that." 

Kibum glanced away from the man to the boy who was trying to pull himself up so he could see over the bar. The man pulled his wand out of his back pocket, flicking it deftly at the boy and pulling him back to sit beside him on the bench. This must have happened often, because the boy was rather unfazed. 

Smiling, Kibum turned back to watch Minho do a complex twirl through the air. The red-headed woman called something after him, but Kibum couldn't quite hear her.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, James?"

"Is this where you defeated Mr. Voldemort?" 

Kibum's eyes widened as his gaze slid back to the man. Harry...Potter? He was here? 

Like, sure, he had seen him once before, but that was a few years back when he was subbing for O'Neely. Kibum tore his eyes away when Albus glanced his way. It would be beyond rude to stare. Mr. Potter probably dealt with that enough as it was. 

"No," Harry said, chuckling at his son. "That was back at the castle. Mummy can show you while I have my meeting with McGonagall."

"But I want to go with you!" James said as Albus added at the same time, "Can we go now, Daddy?" 

Both Kibum and Harry glanced across the pitch when a whistle blew. Ah, they must be done. Kibum slipped out of his seat and hurried to the doorway, hoping he didn't make the Harry Potter uncomfortable with him being there.  He jogged down to the Hufflepuff hallway to find Minho putting his broom away.

"I thought that was you." 

"Who else?" Kibum asked, smiling when Minho laughed. As much as he wanted to let himself get caught up in the moment, he was here for a reason. "Hey, can we talk?"

Minho met his gaze then, searching his expression. "Sure. Let's go for a walk." 

* * * * * * * * * *

The sound of giggling children greeted Minho as he opened the door of the Hufflepuff locker room. His eyebrows rose as he hurried to get his broom out of the cupboard so he could see who had children here. 

A glance around once he passed through the doorway showed him a lithe, familiar-looking red-headed woman on the pitch, all geared up for Quidditch, talking to Madam Hooch. He looked up, doing a double-take when he saw a man looping in and out of the right goalposts with a baby strapped to his chest and two other children on his broom. Minho smiled as he watched them, and he walked over close to where Hooch was before he dropped his broom and started doing the necessary stretches. 

Now that he thought about it, it would be a lot of fun to fly with kids. Like, sure, you’d have to be careful, but make them laugh like that? Completely worth it. He closed his eyes as he leaned into his hamstring stretch, his mind wandering to sometime in the distant possible future, where he was flying around with a happy, laughing baby of his own. He smiled at the thought as he switched his legs. In his mind, Kibum called out “Be careful with her!” to which he replied, “Don’t worry, I will!” 

His eyes blew wide, and he blinked rapidly as he looked around at the others gathering for the lesson. 

Now, that was certainly a thought… Having a family? With Kibum? Would that even be possible?” 

One of the children laughed again, drawing Minho’s attention back up to the father and his children. A nice little daydream, to be sure, but the odds of Kibum liking him back as well as them being able to have a family of their own eventually seemed impossible. 

The man flew down, but waited to land until the red-headed woman took the oldest looking boy off of his broomstick and set him on the ground. He held the other as he dismounted then passed her the broom before he took the kids off the pitch. He grinned and waved at them, a chilly gust of wind blowing back his messy hair to reveal a strange scar on his forehead. 

Across from him, Damien gasped and leaned into the makeshift circle they had made for stretching. “That was Harry Potter.” 

The others watched him go, open-mouthed. “Didn’t he sub for O’Neely a couple years ago?” Minho asked.

Damien fixed him with a bewildered look, and for a moment Minho thought he might make a snide remark that he’d be loathed to tell Kibum about, but instead, he quite nicely said, “I forgot, you wouldn’t know about him, would you?” 

Before Minho could respond, Hooch cleared behind them, drawing their attention to her and away from Harry Potter, who was now sitting up in the stands. “Today, I’m handing over the reins to Ginny Potter, a former student of mine and now one of the Chasers of the Holyhead Harpies.” Ginny smiled at them when they let out ooo’s of interest. “If you’ve ever been to one of their matches, you’ve probably seen how dexterous they are in flight, and their seemingly impossible ability to evade any attack.” She patted Ginny on the back lightly. “I’ll be in my office if you need me.”  

“Thanks, Madam Hooch,” Ginny said, her voice warm and sorta raspy, and turned to watch her go. “Good to see you all stretching, but let’s get flying now, huh?” 

Minho scrambled for his broom and joined Ginny and the others in the air. She led them around the pitch for a few laps, her speed picking up so much so that she outstripped them all. Their Clean Sweep 9's and Nimbus 3000's were no match for her Velox, which was one of the newer racing models. He had seen an ad for it in Seb's Quibbler, and Ginny herself had been the model, selling it. 

That's why she looked so familiar.

She pulled up abruptly on her broomstick, her long hair splaying out behind her in the wind, and turned to face them. "One of the biggest things you have to know when you're up here, flying or playing or performing complicated tricks, is that you can do it. You have to have the confidence to pull all of these moves off. And, can I let you in on a little secret?" she asked, lowering her voice to a stage whisper. Minho and the others flew closer, enraptured by her. "You're already here, in Advanced Flying. You've made it. You've got what it takes to make it big someday, so take that confidence and apply it to today's lesson, your next Quidditch game, and the rest of your life.

"Now!" she said, sitting back up straight on her broom. "Here's the first move. We on the Harpies like to call it the Oliver Twist." 

It was quite the illuminating lesson. He took Ginny's words to heart and, just, believed that he could do whatever she did. So much so that he had been able to stand on his broom while flying over the stands. He was so caught up in the lesson that he hadn't even noticed someone was watching the practice other than Harry Potter. Probably Kibum, given that whoever it was was sitting in his usual spot until the bell rang. 

He didn't wave or acknowledge Minho at all, rather he just slipped quickly downstairs. Hm, he must want to talk about something. 

Minho dismounted quickly and thanked Ginny for her time before he ran across the pitch to the Hufflepuff hallway. And, sure enough, Kibum came around the corner just as he was locking up his Clean Sweep. 

"I thought that was you." 

"Who else?" Minho laughed at that. True enough. "Hey, can we talk?"

Minho eyed him, trying to read his mood. He wasn't giving him much to go off of. "Sure. Let's go for a walk."

Silence fell over them until they slipped into the frosty shadow of the Forbidden Forest. Leaves crunched beneath their feet, and Minho watched to make sure he stepped on the crunchiest looking ones.

"What's on your mind, buddy?" Minho asked after Kibum had bent over to pick up a dry leaf, only to start picking at it. 

"Well," Kibum's sigh came out in a white plume. "Slughorn told us about this...competition…" 

"Oh?"

"Yeah! And, well," he started explaining, his thoughts rambling so much that he got distracted and Minho had to redirect him back to his original thought. They came to the edge of the Forbidden Forest by the time it sounded like Kibum was done. Both came to a stop in the well-worn path down to Hogsmeade and looked down at the lights of the village flickering in the distance. "Let's go this way," Kibum said, grabbing Minho's arm and guiding him toward the Black Lake. 

Minho looked over at Kibum when he let go of his arm. "So?"

"So...what?" 

Kibum smiled into a sigh and looked up at him. "What do you think about the competition?" 

"Oh, uh," Minho looked down at his feet, kicking at a pile of leaves. "I think it's a cool idea, and you would regret it if you decided not to do it." 

"No, I'm not deciding if I do it or not, remember? Slughorn is picking based on gr -- "

"Grades, right, I know. So, like I was saying, when Slughorn gives you the option -- " Kibum scoffed, shaking his head. "You're the best at potions in the whole school. Why wouldn't you be chosen?" 

Kibum's cheeks burned a brighter pink than they already had been on account of the chill in the air, but he didn't say anything either way. Minho, focused now on the way his freckles were now more prominent, started to smile. 

"Bummie, you'll do fantastic," he went on, his voice quieter now, as if they were having a private conversation in the Great Hall instead of walking along the rocky shore of the lake. "You'll be the pride of the school when you come back with the trophy."  

"And if I don't win?"

Kibum's eyes twinkled in the dim light as he searched Minho's gaze. Minho gulped, his lips, and glanced away with a shrug as he started walking again. "I'll still be proud of you. As if I ever wouldn't be." 

"You're proud of me?" Minho shot him an incredulous look, and Kibum started to laugh. "No, I mean, we don't say that to each other, usually. It's kinda awkward, don't you think?"

"Well, it is when you don't let it go…" Kibum shoved him, and he stumbled for a step before he looked back at Kibum with a grin. "I am, though. Proud of you." 

"I know. I...I'm proud of you, too." 

Rather than drag the subject on longer than Kibum would be comfortable with, Minho simply hooked his arm around him, pulling him close as they started back for the castle. Once they stepped onto the grass, Kibum's arm slipped around his waist. Snow started to fall, a few flakes at first, but soon it coated their hair and shoulders. They picked up their pace, running and slipping on the newly wet lawn.

They ducked into Merlin's Beard, and Minho brushed the snow off of Kibum as they made their way to the docks. Kibum started to do the same once they stopped beside one of the bobbing boats. 

"Here," Minho said, pulling his wand out of his pocket. Calorvintus, he thought, waving his wand in the tight, interlocking figure eight they learned in class. A jet of warm air streamed out of his wand, and he drew it over Kibum before he used it on himself. 

"You're really taking to the non-verbal spells, aren't you?" Kibum asked after he had finished violently shaking his hair in the warm air.  

"Don't you have a headache, now?" Minho wanted to ask, but instead said, "I don't understand why everyone else is struggling. It's pretty easy." Kibum blinked as he looked up at him. "I didn't mean you, you're doing great, too."

"No, I know." Kibum smirked, turning away and heading inside. "I think it's because Latin is our third language and it's easier for us to get it right in our heads the first time. Just a theory, of course."

"Makes s -- "

"Don't you wanna go get changed?"

Minho looked down at his Quidditch robes. "Oh, , yeah. Be right back," he called over his shoulder as he ran downstairs to Hufflepuff.

Instead of changing back into his school uniform that would just be washed on Sunday, Minho changed into a pair of jeans and the periwinkle sweater Grandma had knitted for him in his first year. It had gotten to be too small by the end of fourth year, but Kibum had figured out a way to enchant it to always be a perfect fit for him. 

He checked the mirror, fixing his hair before he put on his tennis shoes and hurried back upstairs.  

Snow glittered past the windows of the Great Hall. Minho peered out at the now-white lawn as he took his spot beside Kibum. “I hope we’re ready for a white Halloween.” 

“We’re still going to Hogsmeade, right?” Callum asked, looking past them at the window. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we?” Kibum asked, then switched to Korean when he looked over at Minho. “Do you have Quidditch practice tomorrow?”

“No, Damien booked the pitch.” Kibum’s eyebrows rose disdainfully and Minho tried not to smile too broadly. “Did you want to work on homework before or after?” 

“How about a bit of both?” 

“Sounds good.” 

Dinner was a warm and hearty beef stew and loads of piping hot rolls and iced pumpkin pasties. Kibum pocketed a few before he, Minho, Analecia, and Gil left the table. When they walked past the courtyard, Gil stopped in his tracks when he noticed the snow, taking Analecia with him since their hands were linked. 

"When did that start?"

Analecia's brow furrowed with amusement. "A few hours ago? I saw the first couple of flakes through the library window."

"We were out in it," Kibum said, and Minho nodded. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Gil asked, sounding quite dejected. 

"You were studying, hon." Minho slipped away from Kibum, winking at him when he gave him a curious glance, and hopped over the banister and into the snowbank. "I didn't want to bother you." 

"You never bother me." Minho wandered out into the darkening night before he bent over and scooped up a handful of snow, pressing it into a ball before he threw it at Gil.

He hit him square in the chest. Analecia jumped away, looking open-mouthed at Minho while Kibum grinned at him. Gil brushed the snow off of his chest before he fixed Minho with an ill-conjured glare. "Yeah?" 

Minho, full-on grinning now, motioned for Gil to come get him. He backed away when Gil heaved himself over the banister and started running after him as he jogged out into the lawn, his high-pitched cackle giving away his location. Gil tackled him, and they fell into the blanket of snow. They wrestled around for a bit until Minho flipped them and pinned Gil’s shoulder down. “Get off me!” he said, shoving Minho away from him with a laugh, and Minho fell beside him in the snow, panting as he caught his breath. 

He lifted his head, squinting as he watched two silhouettes in the torchlight from the castle. “Wanna get them?” he asked, looking over at Gil.

Gil pushed himself up, looking over at where Analecia and Kibum were approaching, and smiled as he scooped up some snow. Once he formed a quick snowball, he lobbed it over his head. Both of them watched as it landed near Kibum.

“Seriously?” Kibum called out as he and Analecia stopped walking. 

Minho threw his snowball, but it landed somewhere behind them. “Too far, mate.” 

He patted his bicep, pulling a mock pained expression. “It’s a curse being this strong.”

Gil laughed, shaking his head. “Merlin’s ing beard…” was all he got out before an unnaturally fast-traveling snowball took him out. It clipped his shoulder and he fell backward into the snow, groaning. Blinking, Minho looked back at Kibum and Analecia as they high-fived. “Oh, it’s ing on,” Gil said as he pulled himself up, and Minho followed him as they ran back towards the Forbidden Forest. 

The fight lasted for quite a while, he and Gil holding their own against Kibum and Analecia’s bewitched snowballs. It came to an abrupt halt when the candles in the Great Hall flickered and died out, casting the lawn in shadow. All at once, Minho realized just how cold he was, and how cold the others must be as well. His teeth started chattering as he walked to Kibum and Analecia’s stronghold, his hands held above his head. 

“Wanna go get hot cocoa?” he asked them as he approached.

Analecia stood, smug satisfaction evident in her stance. “We accept your surrender.”

“I -- We’re not surrendering!”

Kibum stood as well, his voice smiling as he said, “We’re just calling it like we see it, buddy.” 

“Whatever,” Gil grumbled behind him, and Analecia held out her hand for him to take as they started back toward the castle. 

They walked ahead of Minho and Kibum, and Minho watched them, a certain longing settling into his heart. If only...if only things were that easy. Sure, nothing was preventing him from taking Kibum’s hand right now. The night was dark, the others weren’t paying attention, and they’d be the only ones to ever know… But it wasn’t that easy, not for them. He lowered his gaze to the snow, heaving a quiet sigh. 

All four of them shook and stamped the snow off of themselves as they reached the courtyard, and Minho dried them all off with the hot air charm he had used earlier with Kibum. Then, he led the way downstairs to the kitchen. Analecia entered tentatively -- it must have been her first time -- and Kibum went over to grab four mugs while Gil set the kettle over the fire and Minho found the hot chocolate mix his parents sent him. Analecia and Gil sat at the hearth, warming themselves by the fire, and Kibum brought the mugs over to where Minho was. His hands were shaking from how much he was shivering, and before Kibum could do anything else, Minho nodded over to the fire. Kibum left his side to join the others, sitting a little away from them on the hearth. 

Once the kettle was boiling and the hot cocoa was made, Minho joined them, sitting in between Kibum and Gil. “So,” Analecia cleared when her voice cracked. “Got any plans for Christmas?” 

“Still a bit early for that, don’t you think?” 

“I suppose…”

“We’ll probably stay here, as usual. I don’t know what my parents are doing, but Kibum’s mom -- “ he looked over at him just as he was taking a sip. “I don’t remember where she is right now.”

“Romania. She got hired by the Daily Prophet and she’s doing a piece about the dragons.”

“Well that’s super ing cool,” Gil said. “My dad is just a security guard at the Ministry.” 

“I’m sure he has a lot of stories, too,” Analecia said, rubbing his back as she set down her mug. 

Apparently, that was the case, as Gil told them just a few of them: of the time he had to help wrangle in a turned werewolf who was loose in the ministry, when he and the other guards had to intervene in a fight that broke out in the Wizengamot, and when he had to keep a mischief of pixies from destroying the fountain in the main lobby. He had to stop, however, when the lights in the kitchen started to dim. 

“We should probably head to bed, huh?” Analecia said, pushing herself up off the hearth.

Minho gathered their mugs and rinsed them out in the sink while the others headed to the door, waiting for him there. He jogged across the darkening kitchen to join them as they left. “Goodnight!” Gil said, giving Analecia a quick kiss goodbye before he started down toward the barrels. Minho averted his eyes as Gil passed him, his gaze meeting Kibum’s. 

Kibum’s eyes traced his face before he met Minho’s eyes once more with a small smile. “Goodnight.” 

Minho smiled in return, and watched him and Analecia go for a second before he turned and followed after Gil. The others were already in bed, though not asleep, by the time they reached the dorm room. Still, they changed into their pajamas quickly and hurried to bed before the lights winked out. Minho lay there, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars above his head, his thumb dragging back and forth over his lips. 

It’d sure be nice to be able to kiss Kibum goodnight. Or even at all. 

Maybe someday...