The primroses were in full bloom, coloring the lawn in dots of blue and purple. The days were sunnier now, longer, too, which meant that summer was on its way and the term was nearly over. To everyone’s surprise, the study load for the sixth years had yet to increase, and they were already in the final week of May. The fifth years had already started their O.W.L.s, the seventh years their N.E.W.T.s the week before, and yet here they were, sprawled out across the lawn. Most were rereading the pages that O’Neely assigned to them in their last lesson, refreshing the information before the class started.

Kibum, who had already reread them twice, was laying on the grass beside Minho -- who was doing the reading -- and staring up at the clouds.

“Does that one look like a cat to you?”

Minho looked up from his book, then up at the blob of a cloud Kibum was pointing at. “Not even a little bit.”

Kibum scoffed, dropping his hand. “The winds must have changed.”

“Sure they did,” Minho said with a chuckle as he returned his attention to Confronting the Faceless.

Sighing dramatically, Kibum let his gaze wander to Minho, studying his expression. The way his eyebrows pinched in when he was concentrating on something was cute. As was his eyes, as they squinted when he was reading only to widen a second later when he thought the information was fascinating. And the way the corner of mouth twitched up in the beginnings of a smile. Or --

“What?”

Kibum’s eyes flew to meet his to find that Minho was watching him curiously. “What?”

“What are you looking at me for?”

. “Sorry, I zoned out.”

“It’s okay.” He snapped his textbook closed and started to get up. “Bell just rang, anyway.” Kibum turned, looking back at the castle as Minho started to get up. “Come on, we should hurry.”

“He said it’d be a double lesson today, right?” Kibum asked as they trudged past the Whomping Willow.

“Mm, yeah, I think so.”

Last week, they had just wrapped up their lesson on inferi, dark creatures made from reanimated corpses, and O’Neely had mentioned that next week’s lesson would be just as dark. Honestly, Kibum was dreading it, just based on the reading they had had to do. A double lesson about Dementors didn’t exactly bode well for anyone.

Minho stepped aside to let Kibum pass through the threshold first, and they followed the stream of the other sixth years to the grand staircase, starting up to the third floor. The desks were all in their usual places, which was a promising way to start the lesson. Kibum took one of the empty desks toward the middle of the classroom, Minho sliding onto the bench beside him.

As far as he could tell, the only worrying thing so far was the large chest set at the front of the room before O’Neely’s desk. It was the same one he had used a few years back with the boggarts. Kibum closed his eyes, shuddering at the memory.

“Are you okay?” Minho whispered in Korean.

“Yeah, I just -- “ The images he had seen then, of his dad, Grandma, his mom, even Minho...lying dying in the hospital bed flashed behind his closed eyes, mingling with the real ones he had locked away. He shook his head and forced himself to open his eyes, to return to the present. “I’m fine.”

The door to O’Neely’s office opened and he popped out, looking more on the serious side than usual. Kibum sank in his seat, letting his chin rest on his fist as O’Neely made his way down the stairs and to his desk.

“Good afternoon, class.” Kibum returned the greeting with the others and got out his book.

“Do you want me to take notes or would you rather do it?” Minho whispered to him as the chalkboard rolled itself over to its place beside O’Neely’s desk.

“You can.” Nodding, Minho reached into his backpack for a roll of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink.

“Today, as I’m sure you’re all aware, we’ll be talking about dementors. Before I go any further, let me just -- “ he waved his wand, and a little bar of Muggle chocolate appeared before every student.

“Can we eat these now, sir?” Travis asked.

“Go ahead. There’s more where that came from.” The sound of the chocolates being unwrapped filled the room. Kibum stared at his for a couple of long seconds before he gave in. “I’ll explain the reason for the chocolate soon, but I thought it might be a nice way to start today’s lesson.

“So...dementors.” A piece of chalk flew up to the board, scratching out the word. “Does anyone remember what they can do from the reading?”

Rhesa raised her hand, and O’Neely acknowledged her with a turn of his head. “They are considered to be one of the foulest creatures to inhabit our world, not only because they are born from decay, but also because they feed on human happiness.”

“Good. Five points to Hufflepuff. Anyone else?”

Callum raised his hand. “Aren’t they the guards at Azkaban?”

O’Neely nodded. “Five points to Slytherin. A -- yes, Ms. Price?”

Theo cleared . “Don’t they also eat people’s souls?”

“That is, unfortunately, something they do. Five points to Gryffindor.”

Priyasha raised her hand. “Have you ever seen that happen, sir?”

“Them eating someone’s soul?” She nodded. “I haven’t had the displeasure of seeing that, thankfully. But I have seen them. Here, at Hogwarts.” Kibum froze in his seat as a collection of shocked gasps went up around the room. “The first time was in my seventh year, after Sirius Black’s escaped from the aforementioned prison. Abs...my wife and I were dating at the time, and we were helping to patrol the grounds after he somehow got through the dementors’ defense and into the castle. We were down by the Forbidden Forest when we came across a hoard of them, and…”

He coughed into his fist, sighing as he lowered his hand.

“And they started to feed on us. We were lucky to be able to dispel them long enough to run for help. I don’t think I had ever seen Dumbledore -- the headmaster, at the time -- angrier than he was in that moment.”

A pregnant silence fell over the room. Someone behind them coughed.

“When was the second, sir?” Priyasha asked, her voice much smaller than before.

“During the battle here. Against Voldemort. They were on his side.” He took a deep breath, tapping his thigh with his wand. “But, let’s talk about a little bit more ancient history, shall we? Open to page 394, please.” There was a cacophony of raspy pages being turned and then, silence once more. “The exact date isn’t known, but dementors were first discovered after what we now know as Aurors went off in search of a dark wizard named Ekrizdis. He was, perhaps, the creator of what is now infamously known as Azkaban, though its original intent was not to be a magical prison.” He squinted, letting out a long sigh. “He lured Muggles there to practice and do experiments on them.”

Kibum grimaced and a couple of the others around the room shuddered.

“Yes, it’s some pretty grim stuff. When the Aurors arrived, they found Ekrizdis dead. Killed by his own...experiments. Yes, Mr. Brent?"

“Were...were the dementors the experiments?”

“Not originally, no. My theory, and one that’s supported by a few books I’ve read on the subject, is that they sprung up from the decaying remains of the Muggles, which were so imbued with dark magic that it created dementors.” He gulped, looking over the class. It was strange to see O’Neely this affected… “Since the Ministry couldn’t find a way to kill them, they confined them to the island, leaving them there to guard and torture the darkest wizards that they would send there. Occasionally, the Ministry sees fit to send them into civilized society, but that is rarer now than it was in the past, thank Merlin.

“A dementor, as you will soon see, is usually about three meters tall. They are humanoid in shape, but they would never be mistaken for one. Their flesh is gray and it resembles mold, both in color and in texture. They are eyeless, as they do not need to see -- I’ll get to that in a minute, Ms. Patil -- but they have a sort-of mouth -- more of a gaping hole, to be honest -- which they use to out their victim’s soul.

“And, if that weren’t enough, they do feed on people’s happiness, as was previously stated,” he said, nodding toward Rhesa. “That is how they see the world, or rather, how they hunt. You’ll be able to sense the presence of a dementor by the chill and the darkness that follows them as well as the sense of nearly overwhelming sadness. Muggles, while they can’t see dementors, do feel their presence.

“If you ever encounter a real dementor, they will attempt to the life right out of you, making you relive your worst moments. If you are unable to dispel them with the Patronus Charm, they will probably try to perform their final, most dangerous weapon -- the Dementor’s Kiss.” Kibum’s stomach churned at the thought, and he scooted a little closer to Minho. “The Kiss is when the dementor places its mouth over its victim’s mouth, quite literally their soul out, leaving a lifeless husk behind. Sure, the victim will still be alive, their heart would still be beating, their brain still working, but...they would no longer remain. Their essence, who they are...would be no more.”

“A fate worse than death,” Minho whispered. Kibum looked over at him before he returned his attention to O’Neely.

“Now,” he said, forcing himself to smile. It seemed unnatural, after everything he had just said. “All hope is not lost. There is a way to dispel the dementor, even to chase it away, and you already know how! I’m sure you noticed that I’ve mentioned the Patronus Charm that you all learned in this class last year.” Kibum nodded, as did many of the others. “That’s the secret. That’s why you need to think of the happiest memory you can think of, when you conjure it, because you’re fighting such a terrible creature when you use it.

“However, I’m sure you all remember what I said last year, about intense desperation also being an effective method. It still is. I want you to keep both of those in mind today.”

He stepped forward toward the chest, patting the curved surface of it. It didn’t shake or tremble like it did last time.

“Inside I’ve trapped a boggart that I’ve enchanted to appear as a dementor for our purposes today. It will take on some of the characteristics of an actual dementor, as well as look the part, but it cannot actually harm you in the same way a real one would be able to. Still, I’d advise you to take this practical lesson seriously. There may come a time in your life when you have to face such a creature, and I don’t want any of my students to be unprepared.”

Kibum squeezed his hands together on the desktop, his knuckles turning white.

“We’ve got a few more minutes before the bell rings and the second half of this lesson will begin, so I want us all to get up and refresh ourselves on the Patronus Charm. Come on!” He clapped his hands together, and they all started to stand, the benches scraping on the floor as they pushed them back. “Let’s move the desks aside to give us room to work!”

After packing up their books and note-taking materials, Kibum, Minho, and the other charmed the desks and benches to float and stack to the side, leaving the floor free for them to spread out. Everyone, O’Neely included, gave the chest a wide berth as they whipped out their wands. Tentative /Expecto Patronum/s went up around the room, but Kibum was slow to join them.

Last time, it wasn’t a distinct memory that made him be able to produce his corporeal patronus...it was, just, the thought of Minho. Simple, really, but it had worked. All of their happiest memories together came flooding back, each one bolstering the last. At the time, he mentioned a particular one -- the ice-skating trip in London -- but really, it was just the first one that came to mind when Minho asked. For whatever reason, he didn’t want to mention what really happened.

Maybe someday, but not then. Not right now.

He watched him as he concentrated on the wispy stream of silver jetting out from his wand, looking quite determined. Kibum smiled, closed his eyes, and said, “Expecto Patronum!”

Once more, a stag leaped forth from the tip of his wand, prancing about the room. Everyone stopped to watch it run a circle around Minho before it strutted back to Kibum, exploding into a burst of sparks at the sound of the bell. Kibum met Minho’s gaze across the room, the light of the dying sparks still twinkling in his eyes.

“Alright, let’s all line up! We’ll try to make it through the line twice,” O’Neely said as he went over to where his desk was on the side. Everyone scrambled to obey him, and Kibum got separated from Minho, who was a few people behind him. He was stuck behind Analecia, at least, so he wouldn’t get too bored in line while he waited for his turn. “I have more chocolates on hand for after each turn. And d -- yes, Mr. Edwards?”

Kibum turned around, looking for Gil in the line. “Sir, you never told us what the chocolate was for?”

“I didn’t?” Kibum shook his head. “Oh, Merlin, I’m sorry! The chocolate acts as an endorphin, or a mood-enhancer. It helps lift the spirits after encounters with dementors. So, please, stop by my desk when you’re through. And as I was going to say, don’t feel bad if you are unable to cast a patronus in the face of a dementor, even if it isn’t a real one like what we’re facing today. Are you ready?” He asked Chloe, who was the unfortunate first in line. She must have nodded. “Wand at the ready, then! And step back, all of you. Give her some room.”

He flicked his wand, and the many locks unlatched.

The room instantly went cold, the golden daylight seeping through the windows were replaced by a pale gray. A dark figure rose above the heads of those in front of Kibum, and everyone took another few steps back. O’Neely’s description, as picturesque as it was, did not do the dementor justice. Even if this were just a boggart version of the dark creature, he didn’t want to face it, let alone the real thing.

It glided silently forward, its long dark robes billowing behind it as it loomed over Chloe, head cocked, mold-covered hand outstretched but not touching her.

“Remember,” O’Neely called from the side. “Expecto Patronum!”

“Ex-expecto...patronus!”

The dementor soared closer, dipping nearer to her face. Kibum thought he heard a draft, but when he peeked around the others, he saw the gaping black maw of the dementor getting closer and closer to Chloe’s face, what looked like wisps of steam off of her.

O’Neely got up from his desk, wand in hand, ready to strike when Chloe shook her head and backed away, raising her arm between herself and the dementor. “Expecto Patronum!”

A thin beam of silver light shot out from her wand, thickening by the second until it formed a shield between herself and the dementor.

“Good, hold it...hold it now,” O’Neely said before he cast the charm himself, producing a dazzling shield that pushed the dementor back and into the chest. “Good job!” he said, high fiving a shaky Chloe. “Go ahead and choose whatever chocolate you’d like. Top drawer on the left.” He took a deep breath and looked back at the others. “Next?”

The line between Kibum and the dementor dwindled to nothing. Some were successful, some were not...all made their way to the back of the line, shakily nibbling on the chocolate O’Neely had offered them. Kibum gulped as he stepped up, about a meter away from the chest. He could feel O’Neely’s eyes on him, so he raised his wand as he widened his stance, standing firm as O’Neely opened the chest.

The dementor burst forth from the depths of it, and the chill he had felt earlier turned his bones to ice. He stared up at it as it hovered over him, watching him through its scabbed over eye sockets. “E-” It swooped down before he could speak further, so close that Kibum could smell the decay on its breath as it started to Kibum’s oxygen away.

And, there they were.

The sounds that he had tried so hard to forget.

The ringing of the monitor, high-pitched and screaming in his ears. That last, rattling breath that Grandma took before she left him forever. The ringing of the monitor. His mother’s choked sobs as he was carried away from Dad’s room before he could say goodbye. The ringing.

They all played at once, over and over in his mind, and the flashes of his memories soon joined them.

His wand slipped from his fingers, but he didn’t hear it clatter to the floor. His legs gave way, the dementor taking his strength away, but he didn’t hit the floor.

No.

Something -- someone -- solid and warm against the Dementor’s chill, caught him. Held him. A blurry hand, wand extended, came into his vision, but Kibum couldn’t focus on it. “Expecto Patronum!” they shouted, their voice very far away.

A bright silver light eradicated the darkness closing in, and instead of O’Neely’s falcon, like he had been expecting to see, a fox emerged from the light, nipping and biting at the dementor. It chased it far enough away that it released its hold on Kibum, and he slumped against his rescuer, relaxing into the warm embrace. “I’ve got you, Bummie,” the voice said, swimming through the echoes of his memories. “I’ve got you.”

* * * * * * * * * * *

"Okay, Mr. Kim?"

Minho stepped out of the line, standing to the side so he could watch Kibum's turn. He had seemed quite nervous earlier… Even though he had been able to cast his corporeal patronus, it would probably be a bit more difficult when facing the dementor, real or not.

He gripped his wand tightly as Kibum stepped up, his eyes trained to the back of his head as O’Neely released the dementor. Kibum stiffened, unable to speak...unable to move as well, it seemed. Minho tensed, every nerve tingling as he watched the dementor start to close in, the wispy streams of Kibum’s happiness siphoning into the dementor’s mouth.

“Mr. Kim, remember the spell!” O’Neely called out, pushing away from his desk. His wand clattered to the floor, rolling away toward the chest. “Kibum?”

Minho shot forward before Kibum started to fall, staggering back as he caught him. He glared up at the dementor, who was still bearing down on Kibum, pointed his wand and yelled, “Expecto Patronum!” Silver light curled from his wand, starting to form a thin line between Kibum and the dementor, until it morphed into a creature of light.

A fox.

His patronus was a fox. And it was viciously attacking the dementor, driving it away as O’Neely stepped into view, casting the charm to rein in the dementor himself. Kibum slumped against him, his head lolling on Minho’s shoulder, and Minho lowered his wand hand to hold onto Kibum a little tighter.

“I’ve got you, Bummie. I’ve got you.”

Slowly, he lowered himself to the floor, unable to support the dazed Kibum at such a strange angle. He kneeled there, watching O'Neely guide the dementor back into the chest before he locked it up again. Then, he whirled around, his robes fanning out behind him, and crouched before Kibum, lighting the tip of his wand and he checked his eyes.

“Will he be alright?”

“Yes, eventually. Lucky that this wasn’t a real dementor, or -- “

“Should I take him to the infirmary?”

O’Neely dropped his hand from propping Kibum’s eyes open, looking at Minho now. “You could, but she’d just tell you the same thing I’m about to.” Minho’s eyebrows raised in question. “He just needs some chocolate and rest. Do you have somewhere secluded you c -- “

“Yes, I know a spot.”

“Good. Here -- ” He stood, and as he did, he helped Minho get Kibum to his feet. Then he opened the drawer, grabbing a handful of the miniature Hershey’s bars and bringing them back to Minho. “Be sure he eats these. You’ll probably need a few yourself.” Minho took them haphazardly with one hand, stuffing them into his robe pocket. “Everyone, I’ll be right back,” he said, raising his voice so the rest of the class could hear before he started walking Minho and Kibum toward the door. “I was worried about him with this particular lesson,” O’Neely said for Minho’s ears only. “Let me know how he’s doing?”

“I will, Professor.”

“Please, tell him I’m sorry as well. And that if he wants to talk to me about it, I'm here for him.”

“Yes, sir, I will.”

O'Neely watched them from the doorway as Minho made his way down the hall to one of the side staircases. Eventually, a door closed. He must have returned to the others.

Once they reached the threshold, Kibum was starting to come to, blinking and lifting his head. Minho hurried to set him down on the landing, kneeling before him on the stairs. He stared past Minho before rubbing his eyes, and Minho reached into his pocket for a chocolate.

"Here, O'Neely said this helps," he said as he held the chocolate out to him. Kibum blinked slowly, staring at it before he lifted his hand to take it, nibbling off a little. As he worked on the chocolate, Minho pressed his hand against his forehead. Clammy, but cold. A shiver racked his body as he finished the chocolate, but Minho had already unraveled another one for him. "Do you want to go upstairs?"

"Yeah," Kibum said, his voice hoarse and cracking, as if he had been screaming.

"Come on, then." He helped him up, offering him another chocolate before they reached the seventh floor. They didn't even have to pace this time, the door was already appearing in the stone wall. Minho opened it, guiding Kibum inside before he closed the door behind him.

Darkness enveloped them. Kibum's breathing grew slightly erratic. "Hold on." Minho grabbed his wand, wordlessly lighting some of the candles as they passed them on their way to the back wall. He draped a blanket over Kibum's shoulders, but he still shivered."We need to warm you up," he said, mostly to himself.

He sank to the floor, opening his legs wide enough so that Kibum could curl up next to him. Kibum fit in his arms perfectly, his head resting where Minho's neck met his shoulder, his breaths tickling his neck as Minho tried to rub some warmth into his arms.

"Min…" Kibum said after a few minutes.

"Yeah?"

"Can...can you talk?" His brow furrowed, and he tried to glance down, to meet his eyes. But Kibum just curled up even tighter. "I can still hear it."

"The dementor?" Kibum shook his head. Oh…was just like when he got back from the funeral? "Are you sure you don't want music? That helped last time."

Kibum just shook his head. "Just talk. Please."

Minho froze for a second, his mind blanking on any topic that could be distracting. He glanced around the small room, hoping for even a sliver of something he could use…

His gaze fell on his old Charms textbook from first year...they kept all their old textbooks up here, but that wasn't what made him smile. "Do you remember," he said as he rested his head on the wall behind him, watching the top of Kibum's head. "First year, after I was struggling with the Levitation Charm -- that's weird to think about now, isn't it? -- anyways...Do you remember working with me on my lousy pronunciation until I was finally able to lift...what was it…"

"A feather."

"Yeah, that's right. We were dancing around, all excited. Almost knocked over the candles and started a fire in here."

Kibum sniffed in what was probably a laugh.

"Remember the first time we got detention?"

"I still don't know why you wanted to eat that chocolate frog during class," Kibum mumbled into his chest.

Minho chuckled. "Me neither. Maybe I was...I don't know, trying to be impressive?"

"To who?" Kibum asked, a little bit more color in his voice.

Minho shrugged, tightening his hold on Kibum for a second. "Not sure. It's just a theory, anyway."

"A lousy theory." Minho laughed at that, and Kibum heaved a sigh.

"You're lousy."

Kibum scoffed quietly, and Minho smirked as Kibum looked up at him. "I'm gonna tell O'Neely you said that."

"Please do, I really meant it."

"I'm sure you did."

Minho gulped as Kibum scrutinized him. Some of his color was coming back, he wasn’t as pale or drawn before. Kibum averted his eyes, putting a little distance between them. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Minho asked as he let his hands fall to the space between them.

Kibum’s lips twitched and he still didn’t look up.

“Why do people always leave me? Am I cursed or something?” Minho watched him until he met his eyes again. “Even you. You’ll leave me, too, when you have to go back to Korea. Who knows if we’ll ever see each other again after school…”

“I do. I know we will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

He had imagined that he would have told Kibum how he felt about him around graduation. It seemed fitting for it to happen then. That way, if he didn’t return his feelings, it wouldn’t be as big of a deal...like it would be if he crashed and burned right now. Like, sure, the setting was intimate enough, but the mood wasn’t right. Kibum was too vulnerable right now, emotionally, because of the dementor. It wouldn’t be the right move.

Besides, it wasn’t like he’d be able to muster up the courage until then, anyway. It was too big of a risk, and he was scared of the consequences.

“I just am,” he said, and he meant it. Even if Kibum didn’t return his feelings, Minho still wanted to remain friends. As long as Kibum wouldn’t be uncomfortable, that is. “What if you leave England first?” Kibum frowned, clearly confused. “For college, or something…Or, what if you found something in Korea?”

His expression brightened. “Are there magical colleges there?”

“I don’t know...Is there a way to find out?”

“I guess I could ask Mom.” Minho nodded, trying not to look too excited. Going back to Korea to serve in the military would be a whole lot more bearable if Kibum came with him. “I should probably start thinking about college, anyways, huh?”

“It’d probably be a good idea.” Sighing, Kibum nodded, and a weighted silence settled in the closet. Minho watched him, searching his expression for the slightest change. When he flinched and squeezed his eyes shut, Minho sat forward, his fingers grazing his arm. “O’Neely said if you need to talk to him that he’s available any time for you.”

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

“I’m sure you’re not. He’s just worried.” When Kibum reached up with his free hand to massage his temples, Minho took his other hand, lacing their fingers together.

Kibum squeezed his hand, and Minho squeezed it right back. He sniffed a laugh, looking over at him. “It just , you know?” Minho’s eyebrows rose in question. “I was doing really well. It didn’t hurt to think about them anymore, and now…I never got to say goodbye. To my dad. One of the nurses took me out of the room before...I guess I should be grateful that...that I didn’t have to...to see it, but, sometimes I wish I’d been able to see him. One last time.” He let out a shaky laugh. “God, I just wanna go to sleep and forget that today ever happened.”

“If you want to sleep, go ahead. I’ll be here when you wake up.” When Kibum looked hesitant, Minho reached for the nearest book then patted his thigh as he leaned back against the wall, making himself comfortable. “I’ll read to you until you fall asleep, if you want.”

Kibum glanced down at the book, his eyebrows quirking upward as he looked back at the long line of books. Minho inspected the book he had grabbed, huffing. Yeah, maybe Unfogging the Future wasn’t a good choice.

“Here,” Kibum said, switching it out with Quidditch Through the Ages before he scooted over to make himself comfortable. Minho helped him arrange the blanket around him before he handed him another chocolate, and began to read.

After Kibum finished eating his chocolate, he reached for Minho’s free hand, lightly tracing the lines in his palms as he read about the history of the Bludgers. It was distracting, but it didn’t last long. He was soon asleep, holding Minho’s hand to his heart.

Minho stopped reading for a moment, staring. He looked at peace, now, which was a relief. Minho shook his head -- he’d indulged himself long enough -- and picked back up reading. Hopefully, the sound of his voice, however faint, would keep away his nightmares.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

Kibum set aside his fork with a nod before he looked up at Minho. "I'll be okay. It's just O'Neely."

"I know, but -- "

"I'll be fine, don't worry," he said, emphasizing it with a light pat on Minho's thigh. He'd stolen enough comfort from Minho already today, he didn't need to take any more. "I'll probably just wanna go to bed after, so I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Minho's brow furrowed as he got up and started toward the dais. "I'm here if you need me!" he called out behind him, and Kibum turned with a smile, glancing back at him over his shoulder before he continued.

O'Neely must have realized what he needed before he even arrived at the stairs, because he was already leaving his wife's side. "Do you want to go upstairs?" he asked, dabbing at the corners of his mouth with his napkin. Kibum nodded, and stepped back, allowing O'Neely passage to the back door of the Great Hall.

The trip up to O'Neely's office was a quick one, as he knew all the best shortcuts. Soon, they were sitting, Kibum in one of his armchairs and O'Neely behind his desk, steaming cups of tea in hand.

"Do you want to tell me about what you experienced?"

Kibum tensed. He did, that's why he was here, after all, but it seemed silly to talk about it. There was nothing he could do to change any of it, right? He'd always carry those memories with him.

"I do, but…"

"But you don't know where to start?" Sighing, Kibum nodded. They both took a sip of their tea, the cups clinking in their saucers. "They show you your deepest, darkest memories. Usually, the ones that you've been trying to forget." O'Neely set his cup and saucer on his desk, sighing heavily as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Do you...see something, too, Professor?"

He couldn't help but to ask, but he cursed his curiosity. It was probably rude, and he had probably offended him. Kibum's stomach churned as O'Neely's bright blue eyes met his.

"I do. Would you like to hear it?" Kibum sputtered. "I don't mind talking about it." Slowly, Kibum nodded. "I see my sister the day she nearly died." Kibum's eyes widened. "We were playing in the forest behind our farm, chasing our dog through the woods. It was getting dark, and we weren't supposed to go too far. Mum still wanted us to be able to hear the bell to call us back inside."

He closed his eyes, shaking his head. "But that's not important right now." He sat back in his seat, looking at Kibum again. "We were walking down by the river -- and we knew we weren't allowed to -- and her shoe got stuck in the mud. She...she fell in as she was trying to get it out, and the current just carried her away.

"I wasn't a strong swimmer, I was only seven at the time, so I wasn't sure what to do. I could see her out there, fighting for breath, but I couldn't do anything. I was…" He shook his head slowly, thoughtfully. "Powerless," he added quietly after a few seconds. "Luckily, my father had seen us go into the forest, so he came in after us. He was able to save her. But, he was so angry. Scared, I think, mostly, but at the time it came out as anger."

Kibum blinked several times, unsure of what he could possibly say.

"When I'm near a dementor, those memories flood back. My panic, my fear. I can hear my sister choking on the water in her lungs, hear my father yelling at me after he'd been able to save her. These are all memories I refuse to let surface, until moments like this."

Kibum gulped, his mouth and throat suddenly dry. He took a few sips of his tea, but it didn't help.

"I...I saw the last glimpse I got to see of my dad. And my grandma's last breath. And the ringing of the monitors," he said, feeling foolish. His didn't seem to compare to O'Neely's, not even a little bit. But they still haunted him, so that had to count for something, right?

O'Neely watched him, his expression tender, yet unreadable. "Loss is never an easy thing to work through, Kibum. It stays with you, forever, I'm afraid. It does get more bearable, as you age and as you get some distance from the pain. Are you able to look back on your memories with your father and Grandma with fondness?"

"Grandma, for sure. But that doesn't make sense. She...she died more recently."

"Do you feel a sense of closure, with her?" Kibum nodded, relieved not for the first time that he had finally decided to come clean about his true Sorting. If he hadn't… "Do you not feel that with your father?"

Kibum shook his head. "I didn't even get to say goodbye."

He looked like he wanted to say I'm sorry, but Kibum was grateful to him that he was able to hold back. Sorry never helped anyone. "If you would like to, I can be someone you go to when memories like this resurface. I won't say who, but it's something I already do for several of the other students in your year." Kibum's eyebrows rose, but he knew better than to ask. "It's part of my job as your mentor, to help you through difficult moments in the absence of your parents."

"That might be a good idea."

O'Neely nodded, offering Kibum a faint smile. "If you need to talk for whatever reason in the few weeks we have left of this term, just let me know and I'll put you into my schedule, alright?"

"Yes, Professor."

"And, if you'd like some practice with the dementor, I'll do some one-on-one lessons with you."

"Thanks." Not that he thought he'd take him up on that, but the offer was nice all the same.

"Is there anything else you want to discuss tonight?" Kibum shook his head. "You can head to your dorm then, if you wish. Get some rest before tomorrow."

"Thanks, Professor," Kibum said as he stood and started for the door.

"Oh, and one last thing." Kibum stopped in the doorway, looking back at O'Neely. "I hope you realize how lucky you are to have a friend like Minho." Kibum's eyes widened slightly and his face started to heat up. "He was faster than I was today, with the dementor."

Of course that had been Minho. He had been too out of it to realize it at the time, but… "I know, I don't know what I did to deserve him," Kibum said before he registered that he said that out loud. To a teacher. His face grew several degrees hotter, and he slipped further into the shadows of Classroom 3A. "Goodnight, Professor. And thanks again."

"Anytime. Sleep well, Kibum."

Nodding, Kibum closed the door behind him and hurried through the darkness toward the golden light of the corridor. He meandered the back way to go downstairs, the barrels placed in front of Hufflepuff catching his eye as he passed them. He let himself into Slytherin, glancing at the couples scattered around the common room. When he spotted Analecia and Gil, he said “Tell Minho I said goodnight, will you?” as he passed the hearth and the couches on his way to the boy’s dorms.

“Sure thing!”

He changed into pajamas, ignoring the others’ chatter as he slipped into bed. As he pulled his blankets up to his chin, he looked up at the plethora of pictures. Memories. Good memories. They replayed before him, Kibum focusing on one at a time until the lights went out. Then, he stared at the glow-in-the-dark star he had stolen from Minho, all those years ago. The light of it turned hazy, more of a blur as he relaxed enough to fall asleep.

When he came to, he was surrounded by a bright, clean white light. Silhouettes moved within it, shapes slowly becoming distinct as he blinked, staring into the starkness. Someone spoke over an intercom, their voice garbled in the speaker, and Kibum blinked again, returning to clarity. A nurse in scrubs walked past, joking with someone in a wheelchair. Doctors in their pristine white coats and tired-looking orderlies milled past him. Why was he in a hospital waiting room? This didn’t make any sense.

He folded his hands in his lap, a glimmer catching his eye. When he looked down, he froze.

There was a silver band on his left ring finger, five little diamonds etched into the surface, catching the light.

“Mr. Kim?” Frowning, he looked up at the nurse in colorful, cat-patterned scrubs caught his attention. “He’s ready to see you now.”

“Who?”

“The doctor,” she said, clearly not sure why he was confused. “Your husband’s test results came back.” She gestured down the hall, and Kibum shakily got up. What husband? Which test results? Tentatively he followed her, glancing into the rooms that didn’t have the blinds drawn. She stopped before Room 1031 and rapped quietly on the door. “He’ll be right out.”

“My husband?” Kibum asked, but she had already gone. Vanished into thin air.

Looking back at the door, he was tempted to peek inside, but before he could work up the courage, a doctor walked out. Shorter than him and balding, he looked up at him with a grim sort of smile. “Are you Kim Kibum?”

“Yes, I -- “ he craned his neck to see inside as the door closed behind him. “I don’t know what this is about.”

“Your husband, Kibum. I just finished telling him his test results, but I wanted to give you a few moments together before we come up with a plan.”

“Plan?”

“I’m afraid that he’s contracted leukemia, and he doesn’t have a lot of time left.”

“I -- “ His stomach turned, his vision started to spin. “I need to sit down,” he said, his voice trembling.

“Why don’t you go sit down inside?” he said, reaching for the doorknob and turning. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

The world seemed to go topsy-turvy as Kibum crossed the distance to the door, his heart sinking into his churning stomach as he stepped through the doorway, looking into the warm brown eyes of his husband.

Of Minho.

Minho, who was sitting on the hospital bed, connected to an IV. Looking paler than he had ever seen him. Bruise-like bags hanging beneath his eyes. The door closed behind him, but Kibum couldn’t walk further into the room. He could only stare as Minho tried to smile at him. But it didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, babe,” he said, his voice wavering in and out as Kibum collapsed to the cold hospital floor.

He jolted awake, staring wildly at the night as he gulped in air. He reached for his left ring finger, frantically feeling for the ring that shouldn’t be there. It wasn’t. It wasn’t there. Slowly, he closed his eyes, forcibly calming himself. It was just a dream. He was fine; Minho was fine.

Right?

Before he fully realized it, he was fumbling in the dark for his wand and was out the door, heading down the hall to Hufflepuff. He let himself inside, stepping carefully so he didn’t make any noise on his way down to the sixth-years boys’ dorm room. The door creaked as he slipped in, but no one stirred.

He didn’t need to light the way to find Minho’s bed, but he crouched beside it, shaking his shoulder a little. “Min?”

“Hm?” came the response after a few tries.

“Sorry to wake you,” he said, his whisper loud in the otherwise silent room. “I just needed to see that you were okay.”

Minho sat up a little, no doubt staring at the little bit of Kibum’s profile that he could see in the moonlight. “Bad...dream?”

“Yeah.” Minho smacked his lips as he laid back down, then he patted the bed. “Are you sure?”

“Mm.”

Cautiously, Kibum crawled into bed beside him, and almost as soon as he settled, Minho’s arm found its way across his middle. Before he set his wand on the nightstand, he closed the curtains around them with a few flicks of it. And, within minutes, he was sound asleep, dreaming things he would forget the second he woke in the morning.

When he did come to, the sun, though concealed by the curtains around Minho's bed, was up. Minho was still there, his face half-buried in the dim morning light. His arm was still around Kibum, too, and stayed there as he rolled over to face him.

He could have gotten caught up in the way his eyelashes lay on his cheeks. Or the tiny moles by his eye and below his chapped lips. Or the way he nuzzled his face deeper into the pillow, his nose brushing against Kibum’s. But guilt was settling into his heart, tainting the serenity of the moment.

Why couldn’t he just be honest with the people he loved? Why couldn’t he let them see all of him? First with his Grandma, now Minho...Was it too late to tell him how he felt? To apologize for taking advantage of his kind-hearted nature?

If he knew...if he knew that Kibum had been harboring feelings for him for years now...that he lied to him last year and said that he didn’t...how would he react? Would he still want to be his friend?

It would be best to just...get it over with. Not today, or tomorrow either, but soon. There was no real reason to keep his true feelings locked away, besides his anxieties.

He couldn’t be selfish. Not anymore. Minho deserved to know the truth, and if he wanted nothing to do with Kibum afterward, then...well, that was no one’s fault but his own.

Gulping, Kibum slipped out of Minho’s bed, resting the arm that had held him all night in the spot he vacated. Then, he grabbed his wand, and before the others even began to stir, he slipped outside, closing the door behind him, hurrying back to Slytherin.