- October 15, 2005 -

A droplet of wax from the hovering candles splattered on the Slytherin table. Kibum moved his plate away from it, cutting the last brussel sprout on his plate in half before he ate it. He tossed the other half around his plate with his fork, dragging it through the leftover gravy from his potatoes. 

The weekends were fairly lazy at Hogwarts, since they didn’t have classes. Because it was Saturday, Minho had Quidditch practice -- which seemed to be running late, given that Minho wasn’t in the Great Hall -- in the afternoon at the same time that he had choir practice. 

It was a new experience for him, singing with the other students. When he told Minho and Jonghyun about his possible interest in joining the frog choir, they were both, unsurprisingly, very supportive. He enjoyed it, so far, even though learning songs in Latin was harder than he had been expecting.

The doors to the Great Hall opened, and in came a small band of people -- Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, Kibum thought. He spotted Minho among them, smiling when he waved at him on his way to the Hufflepuff table. Kibum’s smile fell, however, when he noticed a bright, white bandage wrapped around Minho’s hand. 

His fork clattered on his plate, startling Callum and Analecia, and he was on his feet, hurrying -- but not running -- to the other side of the Great Hall. He reached Minho as he was about to sit down. 

“Hey, Bummie!” He said, smiling up at him. Kibum blinked, pointing at his bandaged hand. Minho scooted over, opening up a little more space between himself and Marvin, and Kibum sat beside him. “It’s really not a big deal. My hand got smashed in the Quidditch kit. Broke two of the bones, apparently. I was straightening the Snitch in its case and Zach dropped the lid before I could get my hand out.”

Kibum gingerly took his bandaged hand, inspecting the purpling bruise peeking out from beneath the white cloth. “Are you okay?”

Minho stretched his fingers, audibly wincing. “Pomfrey said I should be good by Monday. It’ll just be a little weak for a while.”

“Ahh.” He took his hand back as he started to dish himself up dinner with his good hand. “Can’t she use a potion or something to heal it quicker?”

“She used a spell,” Minho said around his mouthful of potatoes. “I can’t remember which one. It just takes a couple of days, that’s all.” 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yep!” Kibum frowned and Minho laughed. “Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt that bad, really. I’m fine.” He reached for his empty goblet. “Hey, can you get me some pum -- “ Kibum took it from him, filling it with pumpkin juice before he passed it back. “Thanks.” He took a long drink before he set the goblet down. “So, how was your practice?”

“Fine. Good, actually.” Minho nodded, taking another bite of his potatoes. “Promise you’ll be more careful?”

Minho stopped eating for a second, meeting Kibum’s gaze. “Promise.”