- October 5, 2005 -

Broth bubbled in a cauldron over the fire, carrots and pearl onions and leaves of thyme rolling in the boil. Kibum stepped up on his tiptoes and peered inside, stirring the soup with a wooden spoon. He took the spoon out of the broth, blowing some of the steam away before tasting.

“Hmm, needs salt, I think.”

Kibum went back over to the counter to grab the bowl of salt and looked over at Minho, who sat on the end of the “Slytherin” table in the kitchen with his knees tucked up into his sweatshirt to try to conserve heat. “Bummie, I’m fine, really. I can just wait until morning.”

Minho was recovering from a cold – no big deal, Pomfrey gave Pepper-Up Potion and kept him in the infirmary until the steam dissipated – but come dinnertime, he hadn’t been hungry. And he wasn’t until they were almost done studying for the night. 

This was Kibum’s dad’s old chicken soup recipe, something he showed Kibum how to make one day when they were both home sick. It stuck with him, all these years later, even though he hadn’t made it since…

“I’m almost done, buddy, don’t worry.” He sprinkled a little more salt in, stirring while he did. “Wanna get bowls?”

Minho sniffed. “Sure.”

Soon there was a clatter of ceramic from across the kitchen, and he brought them over to the counter as Kibum slowly carried the cauldron of soup over to the counter. He dished some out for each of them, making sure there was a healthy amount of broth and chicken and vegetables in Minho’s before he handed it to him. 

Spoons? Where were the spoons in here? Kibum looked up when there was a metallic clink over by Minho, who was pulling two spoons out of his pocket. He set his bowl down next to Minho, picking up his spoon after Minho had taken his first bite.

“Is it okay?”

Minho closed his eyes before he took another bite. “It’s so good.” He let out a relieved sigh, pooling broth in his spoon. Minho sniffed again, rubbing his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie. He smiled sleepily when Kibum looked over at him. “Thanks.”