Through the thin, low windows of the kitchen, Minho could see the new day dawning -- the soft golden sunlight stretching across the grass between the castle and the dark forest. He yawned, rubbing his eyes, and leaned against the counter, only to jump back a second later. Oh. Right. He had just pulled the pan of pumpkin pasties out of the oven. They were still hot.

The early morning hours could make a fool out of anyone. 

He stared down at the steaming pastries, debating whether he should make the spiced glaze for them yet or not. Grandma had instilled in him the need to brush on the glaze while the pasties were still warm, but, if he remembered right, she had said that he should wait about fifteen minutes before he did so.

He wasn’t sure, though.

It had been a while since he had made these. 

Minho sighed, rubbing off a bit of the flour between his fingers. Hopefully, Kibum wouldn’t be upset with him. Hopefully, he would understand. 

He pushed away from the counter, grabbing a nearby teacup and scooping out some icing sugar and pinching in the spices he needed. It had been a while since he made these, sure, and it was an ungodly hour to be awake, but he knew he could let his instincts guide him. Granted, this was probably the only thing he would ever have instincts toward cooking by himself, but that was alright. 

Anything for Kibum. 

He poured a little pumpkin juice into the sugar, stirring it until it became a paste, then adding a little bit more until it was the right consistency. Minho set the teacup down by the pan of pasties and crossed the room, digging into the drawer of utensils until he found the brush he liked. 

It only took a few minutes for the glaze to set completely, and Minho transferred the pasties from the pan to a plate before he hurried toward the door. He’d be back in a few minutes to clean up his mess before the house-elves came in to start breakfast -- he just wanted to make sure Kibum saw these first thing.

* * * * *

The door to the fifth year’s dormitory creaked open, Kibum stirring at the quiet sound. Was it one of the younger kids needing to go to the restroom again? There was an outbreak of the flu again this year, but luckily he -- and Minho -- hadn’t caught it. Yet. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and started to sit up, freezing when he propped himself up on his elbows.

Was that… It was Minho, for sure, he could recognize his silhouette in a pitch-black room. But that wasn’t the confusing part… He hadn’t been expecting Minho to make him pumpkin pasties for his birthday. 

In retrospect, maybe he should have. 

The door swung shut and Minho started toward him, stopping when he met Kibum’s eyes. “I thought you’d still be asleep.” 

“You know I’m a light sleeper.” 

“Yeah.” Minho cleared his throat and continued into the room, setting the plate of pasties on Kibum’s nightstand. “I know it’s been a while since...since you’ve had these...and it’s your birthday…” He cleared his throat again, his eyes finding Kibum’s in the dim light. “They’re your favorite, or they used to be, and...and I wanted to carry on the tradition, while we’re still here. Together. In school.”  

Kibum’s heart clenched, and he looked away from Minho to the plate of pasties. This was the final step in moving forward, wasn’t it...such a small one, too. Well, it seemed small, but it wasn’t. 

Not really.

“If you don’t want to eat them, I understand.” 

He looked back up at Minho, searching his gaze and allowing his eyes to drop to Minho’s lips for a split second. Kibum sat up, his blankets pooling in his lap as he reached over and took one of the pasties from off the top. Still warm. He broke it in two, passing the bigger half to Minho, who readily took it. 

He waited until Minho took the first bite before he followed suit. 

A rush of memories flooded over him, of birthdays past and late-night conversations while Grandma made these for him. Some of the moments with Minho were sprinkled in there, too, but he didn’t focus on them. His bottom lip quivered as he finished chewing and swallowed. 

It was good. Just as good as he remembered. He wanted to tell Minho that he did a good job, but the words died in his throat. All that managed to come out was a quiet thank you.

Minho popped the last bite of his half in his mouth then reached out of Kibum's hand. "Of course."

His grip on Kibum's hand loosened as he yawned, and Kibum softened, relaxing into his pillow. "How long have you been awake?"

"Uh...since three. Couldn't sleep really." 

Kibum squeezed his hand. "Go to sleep, buddy. Sleep as long as you need to."

"But -- " 

"We can go to Hogsmeade or something when you're awake." 

"Okay." Minho slid off of the bed, looking back when Kibum didn't let go of his hand right away.

"Oh, sorry…" Kibum let go, rubbing his hand on his blanket-covered thigh. "Take another one before you go if you want." 

Smiling, Minho stepped back and took another one off the top. He made his way over to the door and stepped halfway out into the hallway before looking back through the ajar door. "Happy birthday, Bummie."

"Thanks, Min." 

He waved goodbye with the hand holding the pastie, closing the door behind him. Kibum stared at the closed door until his heartbeat returned to normal, then reached for another pumpkin pastie.