- October 10, 2005 -

Even though it was the afternoon, the air was still delightfully crisp. Squirrels chittered above Minho and Kibum as they walked down the deer’s path in the little patch of woods between the owlery and the Black Lake -- the students jokingly referred to it as Merlin’s Beard. The breeze was perfumed with the scent of earth and fallen leaves.

Minho jumped off the path, crunching leaves beneath his feet.

“Glacius,” Kibum said behind him, pointing his hand at the trees ahead of them as if he were holding his wand.

“Glacius!” Minho repeated, grimacing at his lisp. They were practicing the new spell they learned in Defense Against the Dark Arts today. O’Neely had impressed them all during class when he frosted over the dragon’s skeleton. 

A faint gurgling distracted Minho as Kibum repeated the spell again, and he weaved through the trees to find a bubbling creek cutting through the underbrush. It was flowing fairly steadily, probably because of all the rain they had been getting lately. Minho whipped his wand out of his pocket, pointing it at the stream.

“Gla -- “

“There you are!” He jumped at the sound of Kibum’s voice, turning to watch him trudge through the underbrush to get to him. “What are you doing?”

“Practicing! What’s a better thing to try freezing than water?”

“Makes sense.” Kibum pulled out his wand. “Where’s your’s?”

Minho held up his hand and glanced over to find that his wand was no longer there. Panic clenched his heart as he swung back toward the creek. He must have dropped it when Kibum surprised him...

As he ran downstream, he kept his eyes trained on the flowing water, earnestly searching for any sign of his wand. Kibum was on his heels, he could hear his labored breathing behind him. They rand almost to the Black Lake before Minho spotted it, the red of the cedar standing out amidst the duller brown of the twigs it got caught in. 

Thoughtlessly, Minho stepped into the creek after it, without taking off his shoes or robe, catching it just as the current was starting to loosen it again. Kibum offered his hand to help him out of the water, and Minho took it. 

“You think it’ll be okay?” Kibum whispered as Minho started to dry it off with the sleeve of his robe.

“Hopefully.” His teeth were chattering by the time he thought it was dry enough, and he pointed his wand away from them and the creek. “Win-wingard-ium le-leviosa,” he said, shivering enough to stutter.

Nothing happened.

He clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on his wand before he did the proper wand movements again. “Wingardium leviosa!”

A slightly electric buzz coursed through his fingers, not enough to sting, as the fallen leaves around them slowly rose to eye level, dropping with a rustle as Minho lowered his wand. Kibum sighed, clutching his heart, and Minho grinned. “We’re good!”