Disclaimer: I do not own any parts of the Pottermore Universe, including but not limited to: settings, characters, the mechanics of magic, etc. All of this belongs to the author of Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling, and Warner Bros. respectively. Idol characters are purely fictional and have no affiliation with the actual person and/or group. Original characters are present in the plot. 

The Ravenclaw dormitory was quiet. Darkness enveloped the fifth-year girls’ room in an intimate hug, bracing with a familiar nostalgia as if it were an old friend cradling each girl to sleep. No one stirred: not a mumble or snore escaped anyone’s lips; even the breaths were hushed, giving space to the soft November lullaby outside. Everyone was in a deep slumber.

Everyone except for Myoui Mina.

Mina was wide awake, tossing and turning beneath her covers, her mind unable to keep still. It reeled with anticipation. The final clue. They finally did it. Her heart wanted to sing. This hellish nightmare would soon be over, and everything could return to normal.

Normal: the word sat foreign on Mina’s tongue. She scarcely remembered the details of her life prior to the dragon deal. It shriveled into a lost fantasy – something that tasted so fictitious – Mina struggled to believe her biggest worries were once only the O.W.L.s in the upcoming spring. All of that seemed so trivial given her present problems.

However, the Ravenclaw prefect was looking forward to her life no longer being in grave danger. Admittedly, she would miss the fun challenge of the riddles (for she did have a partiality for puzzles), but she did not like the pressure or dangerous tasks in tandem to the clues – nor did she like the fact that an actual dragon awaited her at the end of the quest. Mina shuddered at the thought.

Truth be told, Mina hadn’t given much consideration to what lied beyond the completion of Eads’s task. Chaeyoung had splashed a cold dose of reality on her when she mentioned raising the dragon together. Mina did not want to raise a dragon. At all. No desire to whatsoever. Absolutely nada. She was only fifteen! She wasn’t ready for motherhood yet!

Mina groaned, burying her head underneath her pillow in hopes to drown out the noise in her head. Chaeyoung complicated everything. Over time, their partnership had turned into an unexpected friendship, and Mina learned to appreciate Chaeyoung’s unique company – even if a headache naturally followed. But Mina knew that she could not separate the dragon responsibilities from the third-year (as like with the quest) and if she dwelled any deeper, she would once again be roped into something she had no wish to participate in. She was nearing a crossroads in which she would have to pick one or the other: Chaeyoung or a normal life – because let’s be real, you would never associate ‘normal’ with Son Chaeyoung.

The night carried on. Mina wasn’t sure when she fell asleep, but it was the early morning when she woke in a panic from a frightful dream.

In her dream, she and Chaeyoung were in the small drab backroom of the Red Salamander, sitting right across from Eads. The briefcase with the dragon eggs laid open on the table, each egg glowing in the dim light; Mina noticed Chaeyoung was eyeing them greedily.

“December’s new moon has finally arrived, sweethearts,” Eads said with his delicate voice. “Time’s up. My heirloom, if you please.” He stretched out a bejeweled hand.

Promptly, Mina rummaged through her pockets, searching for the heirloom – anxious to hand it over as soon as possible. But her fingers were met with only empty space; her heart stopped at the realization that she didn’t even know what the heirloom was.

Mina cursed internally. She tried to not look as panic stricken as she felt, but the longer she took the harder it was.

Eads cleared his throat.

“N-no, wait – I’m sure it’s in here somewhere – darn it! – Please, give us more time! A week! No, a few days! We’ll get you the heirloom, please – we are so close – just a little more time –” The words came out as a pathetic sob. Hot tears stained Mina’s cheeks. Blood surged through her body, heart racing, as if the terror was keeping her warm in the freezing room. Why could her hands not stop trembling?

Chaeyoung watched in silence as Mina struggled.

“Chaeng, do you have the heirloom?” Mina cried out. “Is it not in one of your pockets?”

“You were the one who should have it,” the third-year said quietly. Mina expected to see her own fright mirrored on Chaeyoung’s face, but instead she was met with indignation, hurt, and betrayal. You were the one responsible. For my dragon. For our lives. Those round black eyes burned.

“It is clear you do not have the heirloom.” Eads’s lavender eyes shimmered; his voice was no longer sweet, but a nasty snarl, with each word low and guttural. The dealer stood up at an agonizingly slow pace. Mina could hear the floorboards creak under his weight, screeching like nails against a chalkboard, causing her to quiver. The pit of her stomach filled with dread, and her hands shook violently as she continued to search her pockets for the heirloom, hoping that something would magically appear.

“I’m sorry, sweethearts, but a deal is a deal – or in this case, no deal,” said Eads, a cruel smile plastered on his lips. “It’s time to pay your dues.”

And then he lunged at her.

Mina woke up in a cold sweat, her body quaking. The mark on her right wrist ached like someone had branded her with a hot iron. Nausea overtook her and immediately she bolted from her bed to the nearest garbage bin, unceremoniously hurling last night’s supper into it. Again and again, she vomited until she was sure there was nothing left in her stomach. She coughed and heaved, the acidic taste lingering . She desperately wished for a glass of ice water.

Thankfully, Mina had woken up before her dream could turn brutal, but she imagined the aftermath: she was on the floor, motionless, her eyes were glassy and skin dull. Not a single breath escaped her lips.

The prefect trembled at the thought, fighting her imagination from becoming too vivid and too wild. Wiping with a tissue, she leaned against the dormitory wall, taking deep steady breaths – in, out, in, out, in . . . Mina needed the quest to end; she wasn’t sure how much longer she could take this – the nightmares, the stress, the fear. They had to find the heirloom and bring it to Eads, and then after that, she was done.

Chaeyoung’s haunting expression from the dream seared through her mind. It made Mina’s stomach churn again. There was a measured storm in Chaeyoung’s eyes, fathomable and lucid: the clear resentment reflected in that obsidian gaze. Mina hoped she would never have to see that look on Chaeyoung’s face in real life.

Morning crept in like a thief: silently. Sunrises were late this time of year so the outdoor sky stayed pitch black as if the sun itself wanted a few more minutes of sleep. Mina sighed as she slogged back to her bed: bleary-eyed, throat sore, and her mind encumbered with an excruciating headache. She hoped she could still get some decent rest before her day began. As she glanced at her alarm clock, the bold red numbers flashed angrily in her face. 6 o’clock.

Well, that idea is out the window. It was time to get up. Sheesh, today was going to be rough.

Groggily trudging through the day was as challenging as Mina thought it would be. Class after class, the opaque fog of exhaustion in Mina’s brain did not let up. Jihyo had to shake her awake several times during their joint lecture in Transfiguration. It was both good and bad that Ravenclaw and Gryffindor had classes together the entire day; Jihyo had dutifully kept Mina from entering a much-desired slumber, but she also stuck to Mina like glue. Mina felt Jihyo’s watchful owl-like eyes on her throughout their lessons as if they were scouring a crystal ball, searching for something deeper.

When she asked Jihyo if something was wrong, the Gryffindor prefect merely shook her head, stating that she was just concerned about Mina.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard,” remarked Jihyo. “I’m worried you’ll fall ill again.” Her tone remained skeptical, but she didn’t bring up Chaeyoung’s name or prod Mina about the third-year. Thank goodness. Whatever suspicions the fifth-year held towards Chaeyoung, they either had vanished or she kept them to herself.

“I’ll be careful,” mumbled Mina. Jihyo made a noncommittal sound as if to say I’ll believe it when you don’t show up to class looking like a zombie!

The rest of the day was uneventful until the afternoon when Mina congregated with the other girls at their usual table in the fourth-floor study area. At this point it was a natural habit for all of them: during any breaks or free periods, there was an unspoken rule for the girls to meet up and work on the clue – unless one had other business to attend to. Sometimes everyone was there, sometimes two or three.

Today only she, Dahyun, and Chaeyoung were present. According to Chaeyoung, Jeongyeon had a Quidditch team meeting and Momo was visiting Professor Sprout (Head of Hufflepuff House) to discuss her future career plans. Thus, neither girl could make it. Mina was a bit saddened by this. She enjoyed both of the older students’ company as well as their ability to maintain harmony amongst the group. Jeongyeon’s authoritative demeanor kept Dahyun and Chaeyoung in check, ensuring that neither would engage in any sort of tomfoolery; this saved everyone one massive headache. Momo, on the other hand, balanced out the Gryffindor’ Captain’s sternness with a relaxed upbeat attitude; she was the much-needed peacemaker. Altogether, the synergy brought by the older girls was like the oil to a machine, allowing every component to work soundly.

As Mina watched Chaeyoung and Dahyun build a tower out of several decks of cards, she desperately wished that she was not sole babysitter at the table.

“Can you two please focus?” Mina asked the younger girls for the twentieth time. They had made an intricate tower reaching high above the table surface. Chaeyoung was standing on top of a chair (and from what Mina suspected, the tips of her toes), two cards in her hands ready to form the peak, as Dahyun held the chair in place. “Chaeng, I thought you wanted to get your dragon?”

“Shhhh. I am focusing, Minari,” Chaeyoung hissed, her eyes never leaving the card tower, “Just one more . . .”

Mina scowled as Chaeyoung gingerly touched the card ends together, placing them on the final layer. For a moment, the tower stood proud and tall in all of its magnificence. But then Mina let out a sigh. It wasn’t a dramatic sigh. It wasn’t even a loud sigh. But it was enough for the tower to wobble, and then collapse in a snap. Both Chaeyoung and Dahyun groaned in defeat.

“Miiiiinnnaaaaaa! We were so close this time,” whined Chaeyoung as she scooped up the fallen cards into her arms; she quickly moved to reconstruct her work. Dahyun gazed at the space where the tower had been seconds before, shaking her head forlornly.

“No more, Chaeyoung – why are you doing this?” Mina gritted through her teeth.

“Because I feel like it,” she replied, shrugging as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Mina pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. “Son Chaeyoung, now is not the time to play or pursue some ridiculous, childish impulse. You need to focus on the clue.”

“Now is the best time for play,” Chaeyoung countered haughtily. “We shouldn’t overwork ourselves. Haven’t you ever heard of ‘break time,’ Minari?”

“Excuse me, you haven’t done any work to deserve a break!”

“Ugh. Why do you always act so uptight? Do you ever worry that you’ll get wrinkles before you even graduate?” She met Mina’s eyes and quirked her eyebrow as if she was genuinely curious if Mina had ever given it any thought. (She hadn’t.)

“The clue,” the prefect repeated firmly. “Your dragon. Our lives.”

Chaeyoung dramatically threw up her hands, letting the cards scatter in the air. Begrudgingly, she reached for the map, smoothing it out across the table and stared at it with such intensity, Mina thought she was going to burn holes through it. Her hand raked through her short blonde hair, strands sticking out from the sides, completely disheveled.

“I’ve been studying the map in my free time, and it doesn’t seem to work in tandem with the riddle,” remarked Mina. “I’m not even sure if the two are related at all.”

“This riddle sounds less instructive and more like a warning,” said Dahyun. “Maybe we’re supposed to focus on the map and use it to find the heirloom.”

“Well, if this map was supposed to lead us to the heirloom, it would’ve been nice to have a big fat x marks the spot. But it hardly shows us anything new,” snorted Chaeyoung, looking up with a rather disgruntled pout. “Dubs and I know most of the school like the back of our hand; we could navigate the corridors in our sleep if we wanted to.”

That didn’t seem right. The map had to be important somehow or else they wouldn’t have gone through such lengths to reveal its contents with a hazardous visibility potion. There had to be something they were missing.

“Chaeyoung, search the map again. There must be something that seems . . . unfamiliar,” ordered Mina. She was desperate – they were desperate. Even the smallest detail could help them out and Mina didn’t want it to be overlooked.

The third-year huffed, continuing to scrutinize the map. It felt like ages as Chaeyoung sat uncharacteristically still. Whilst Mina didn’t want to rush her Housemate, she did wonder if Chaeyoung just fallen asleep with her eyes open. As unlikeable as that thought was to entertain, it was also a lot more probable than Mina cared to admit.

“Wait . . . here – right here,” stated Chaeyoung. She tapped the bottom left corner of the parchment. “I’ve never seen this place before nor have I ever heard of it either.”

Mina and Dahyun leaned forward, taking a good look to where Chaeyoung was pointing: the room was smaller compared to the rest of the rooms in Hogwarts, and nothing else was near it but a single corridor. In thick scratchy cursive were the words Founders’ Tower.

“Founders like the actual Founders of our school?” Dahyun raised her eyebrows.

“Who else?” Chaeyoung and Mina exchanged a glance; the Founders had played an integral role in the quest thus far, being a central reference to each riddle. This Founders’ Tower on the map could not be a coincidence.

“It wouldn’t hurt to check the place out,” said Mina. It is our only lead too, she added to herself privately. She wasn’t sure if finding the Founders’ Tower was the right move, but it was better than doing nothing.

“We can use Fig’s ostendometer,” Dahyun said, pulling it out of her robe pocket. Mina vaguely remembered seeing the silver object when Chaeyoung and Fig ventured to find her; she didn’t really process what it was at time because she was on the brink of passing out. “I borrowed it recently from Fig and been meaning to return it,” she said as the exquisite device glistened in her pale hands. She pressed her lips in a thin line as if it brought back an ill memory. “But I think hanging onto it just a little bit longer wouldn’t hurt.”

“Great! What are we waiting for then? Let’s get go!” Chaeyoung popped out of her seat.

“We can’t do it now,” hissed Mina. “It’s too dangerous to snoop around the castle when there are so many students and professors roaming about. What if they ask questions?”

“So, what? You want us to do it after curfew?” Mina did not like the wicked smile on Chaeyoung’s face or the wriggle of her eyebrows.

It pained the prefect’s pride to endorse rule-breaking, but over the last three months, Mina found herself already neck-deep in unauthorized acts. What was the point of acting like her hands were clean now? Mina conceded to meet at midnight to search for the Founders’ Tower. They’d pass along the information to Jeongyeon and Momo this evening when they got the chance.

The meeting was adjourned, and Mina and Chaeyoung headed back to Ravenclaw Tower as Dahyun returned to the Hufflepuff Basement.

“So, what do you think is in this Founders’ Tower?” asked Chaeyoung as she skipped ahead a few steps. Her blonde hair bounced, the color pale and fading, a sign that she hadn’t bothered to upkeep the dye.

“Ideally, the heirloom,” Mina deadpanned.

“Oh! What if there is treasure? Not just like the heirloom. Eads mentioned that Hogwarts is filled with all sorts of valuables.”

“Why? What would you do if there is?”

Chaeyoung halted in her tracks and whirled around to face Mina. Her nose wrinkled in puzzlement. “What do you mean?” She paused for a second, slowly catching onto Mina’s insinuation; then that stupid dimpled grin crossed Chaeyoung’s lips. “Is that what you think of me, Myoui? A thief? You believe that I would steal the school’s precious treasure?”

Mina crossed her arms over her chest and straightened her posture – she tried to look as authoritative and prefect-esque as possible, though it always fell flat with Chaeyoung. “You break the rules every single day, Son, and wreck school property almost on a weekly basis. Why shouldn’t I believe that you would steal something if it was of value?”

“Wow, Minari. I am both flattered and insulted by that statement – mostly flattered.” Mina glared at Chaeyoung to which the third-year only let out a hearty laugh. “I’m kidding. But as usual, you’re missing the point.”

Chaeyoung took one of Mina’s hands in her own. “Let me rephrase my question: what do you imagine is in the Founders’ Tower?”

“I imagine that the heirloom is there,” answered Mina, straight-faced once again.

Chaeyoung dropped Mina’s hand and groaned. “Why do I even try?”

“Lookie who it is! If it isn’t the dwarf cub traitor and the violent prefect,” a nasally voice interrupted.

Lovette, in all of her annoying existence, strutted down the hallway with a pinched smirk on her face. Next to her was a very tall man dressed in a sharp charcoal gray three-pieced suit with a matching wide-brimmed hat; in one hand he had a briefcase. He stared at Mina and Chaeyoung with dark bronze eyes, his unwelcoming expression felt slightly familiar.

“Lovette,” Mina greeted coldly. She instinctively pushed Chaeyoung behind her like a mother bear protecting her cub. The incident with Bennett and Lovette from the Halloween Bash sat fresh in her mind. Although Chaeyoung had been distracted with the quest lately, Mina knew that her House-placement crisis was still unresolved.

“Myoui,” Lovette said with the same amount of ice. “Still hanging out with delinquents, I see. I would’ve thought that as a prefect and a Ravenclaw, you’d make wiser choices.” Her sneer dripped with scorn.

“Myoui as in Myoui Mina?” The man cut in. There had been no change in his expression, though the slight inflection in his voice hinted that he was now interested in the conversation.

Mina almost shrunk underneath his hard eyes, but she felt Chaeyoung place a reassuring hand on her back. “Y-yes, sir.”

The man set down his briefcase and took off his hat, holding it against his chest. “I am Dominik Searle. I led the Ministry internship brief with Mr. Carbrey earlier this month, perhaps you may remember?”

Oh, so that’s why he looks familiar.

“Ew, you had a briefing with the Ministry of Magic?” Chaeyoung asked a little too loudly, a little bit too scandalized. Mina hastily shushed her.

Searle continued, unbothered: “I had a meeting with your headmaster this morning about his student selection, and I must say, I was quite impressed with your transcripts and track record: perfect marks in all of your classes as well as perfect attendance. It is no wonder you are at the top of your year.”

“That’s Miss Perfect for you. She has quite the reputation in the school.” Once again, Chaeyoung did not bother keep her commentary quiet. Mina glared at Chaeyoung, mouthing shut up, despite the faint blush inflamed on her cheeks.

“Miss Myoui, if you could spare a moment, I wish to speak to you . . .” Searle regarded Chaeyoung peering over Mina’s shoulder. “ . . . In private.”

Chaeyoung stepped out from behind Mina with a distrustful expression; a protective arm was wrapped around Mina’s waist as if at any second she would whisk the fifth-year off to the other end of the castle. It was very obvious that the younger girl was not fond of the man.

“Go on, Chaeng,” urged Mina. Fortunately, Chaeyoung didn’t argue; she cast one last glance at the prefect – eyes concerned, mouth set in a thin tight line – before she took off.

Lovette scoffed as Chaeyoung walked away, “What a brat.”

“You too, Adrianna,” Searle said in a brusque tone; his shoulders squared back and chin tilted upward like a military officer snapping out orders. Mina wondered what their relationship was for him to speak casually to the girl.

“W-what? –” Lovette whipped her head toward Searle, alarmed.

Searle impatiently cleared this throat with a finality that made the blonde Ravenclaw girl shut and flush a deep red. Lovette abided to Searle’s demand, casting one last ugly glare at Mina, before scampering away like a mouse.

Mina was relieved that Lovette’s annoying self was out of sight, though a part of her wished that there would be another body present. She was a bit frightened to be alone with Searle. The man was so serious. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back and jaw set in a tight line. Mina wondered if he always looked like he was ready to commit murder.

“Miss Myoui, you are just the type of witch the Ministry of Magic is looking for: bright, ambitious, and eager to make a change in the world. Aside from your excellent record and your status as a prefect, I believe it is your potential that makes you a model candidate. Headmaster Park spoke very highly of you; you were one of the top students of his recommendation list. Might I inquire, Miss Myoui, in what area of the Ministry do you wish to pursue?”

“I w-want to work in the Department of International Magical Cooperation.”

A glint of satisfaction flashed across Searle’s face like Mina had answered his question correctly. “An admirable choice. You would do well under my tutelage.”

The prefect’s heart skipped a beat. Was Searle suggesting he would take her as his intern?

“Let me offer you a piece of advice for the road that lies ahead, Miss Myoui: it would do you well to surround yourself with others that are as determined and diligent as yourself. You cultivate success with those who have the same ambitions. The same hunger. One can only grow when the environment is nurturing.” He paused. “Therefore it is vital to eliminate any distractions that may hinder our progress.”

Mina bit her lip. She knew what Searle was implying. His words echoed Jihyo’s past concerns (as well as her own) about Chaeyoung dragging Mina down, except the Ministry worker’s tongue was harsher and a lot blunter.

Searle held out his hand. A faint curve of the lips told Mina that he was attempting to smile. “It was a pleasure speaking with you, Miss Myoui. You show great promise, and I do anticipate your application and future work with the Ministry.” Their shake was curt and firm, fitting of Searle’s character.

As he parted, Searle left Mina with his business card, indicating that if any questions arise about the internship or his job in general, she was free to send him an owl. Mina was honored and very excited. The thought that she was now in contact with a Ministry worker – particularly one who worked for the Department of International Magical Cooperation – lifted her spirits immensely. Her worries about the quest and Chaeyoung were tossed to the back of her mind. A problem that was so far away.

Soon, she thought. Soon everything will be right again.

It was a quarter to midnight. Mina still could not believe the irony that she, a prefect, had mastered the art of sneaking around the castle after curfew. If she told her younger self she would be involved in such criminal behavior, she would’ve scoffed or fainted – probably both. No, this certainly was not the future young Mina foresaw for herself.

The five girls walked in a cluster down the hallways: Chaeyoung leading with the ostendometer in her hands; Momo and Dahyun followed close behind, talking to each other in quiet conspiring whispers; and at the tail end trailed Mina and Jeongyeon, the latter holding the map.

“You seem to have a lot on your mind,” said Jeongyeon as she fell in step with the Ravenclaw prefect. “Is everything okay?”

Mina opened to respond, and for a moment, she wanted to confess everything to Jeongyeon: her frustration with Chaeyoung, her talk with Searle, her uncertainty about the future post-quest. Although she had not known Jeongyeon for a long time, she trusted the older girl and believed that Jeongyeon could provide invaluable advice – especially as someone who was familiar with Chaeyoung’s childish antics.

Instead she said, “Everything is fine.” Now wasn’t the right time to spill her troubles. They had a mission to complete.

Jeongyeon placed a hand on Mina’s shoulder and gave it a consolatory squeeze. “You’ve done well, Mina. You know, when the kid first mentioned that you and she were involved in a Black-Market deal together, I thought that things would fall apart immediately. But you hung in there – and the impact you’ve had on Chaeyoung has been astounding. I know you may not want to hear this – and I don’t mean anything bad by it – but I’m happy that out of all the people the kid could’ve dragged into the mess that person turned out to be you.”

Mina bowed her head in embarrassment at Jeongyeon’s statement.

“It looks like the tower should be here,” said Chaeyoung as the girls stopped in a private corridor. Mina wasn’t entirely sure where they were, but she suspected that they were on one of the higher floors. The ceiling pinched in a high arch with candelabra hanging low, the walls were bare and nondescript, and at the end, there was only a single window decorated with intricate tracery that winded and wove like ivy.

“Are you sure?” asked Dahyun. “There’s nothing here.”

Jeongyeon glanced down at the map with a frown. “The map says the same thing.” The Gryffindor Captain took a few steps until she was right in front of the window. “Supposedly, the tower should be right here.”

“What do you mean h – ah!” Mina’s wrist burned. Eads’s mark was glowing: the red lines blazed like they were on fire. The sensation was familiar. It was the same as when Mina had been trapped in below the school and the mark had opened up the mysterious tunnel.

Chaeyoung seemed to recognize the feeling too. She marched right up to the window and pressed her right wrist against the glass. The window let out a loud moan; slowly, the center split in half like a double set of doors swinging back to reveal not the open sky, but a channel of stairs leading upwards.

“Now that is what I call a secret passageway,” Chaeyoung said with admiration. She took out her wand and charged forward, leaving Mina and the others in her dust.

The stairs coiled like a snake, a never-ending spiral that the girls climbed and climbed and climbed. Chaeyoung, blessed with boundless energy and youth, race ahead; her footsteps echoed in the dark and her wand light bobbed up and down in the distance. Mina stuck close to Jeongyeon, looping an arm through the older girl’s, her fear of the dark still present as ever. Their wands helped a little, but they couldn’t see more than a few steps ahead.

Just when Mina thought her legs could take no more steps, the girls reached a giant set of doors at the top. Chaeyoung was already waiting for them with her cheeky grin and a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“May I present to you: the Founders’ Tower,” she declared, pushing the doors open with a grand gesture.

The Founders’ Tower was an enclosed furnished study: unlike the other towers which were circular, this room was rigid and angular, taking the shape of a hexagon. The first thing Mina noticed upon entrance was the enormous balcony suspended along the inner perimeter facing the open floor; the levels were bridged by a complicated spiral staircase tucked in a corner. Fancy oak shelves lined the walls, filled to the brim with antique books, dining ware, and other oddities. A magnificent glass chandelier hung overhead though it gave no light. Mina suspected it hadn’t been used for quite some time based on all of its cobwebs. To the right of the door was a large fireplace, empty of logs and ash; its mantel was decorated with various tchotchkes and memorabilia, all seemingly several centuries old. Cushioned chairs and couches were positioned around the fireplace with a small coffee table in the center, reminding Mina of the House common room layouts. She wondered if the common rooms had taken inspiration from the tower or if it was the other way around. Across the fireplace was a grand desk made of lacquered ebony though it was horridly dusty. Nothing was on top of it but a single black leathered bound book.

But perhaps the study’s finest feature was the luxurious stained-glass windows that loomed over the writing desk, reaching the shadows of the ceiling in a Gothic arch. There were five window panels, each embellished with a colorful glass mosaic of a Founder, and in the middle was the Hogwarts crest, carrying school’s motto underneath: Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus. Never tickle a sleeping dragon. The glass appeared enchanted as it magnified the moon’s luminosity brightening up the entire tower.

The five girls drank the room in awe. Chaeyoung wasted no time busying herself with touching and poking every single thing within her reach. She zipped around like a fly, making sure no stone stayed unturned. Thankfully, there was no antique collector present to witness how careless Chaeyoung was with everything; she definitely would’ve given them a heart attack. Even Mina flinched when she saw Chaeyoung yank the precious books off the shelves, open them, and then immediately drop them to the floor in disinterest.

“This place is so COOL!” she gushed as she finally flopped down on a couch, sprawling her body out like she had already made herself at home. Her foot came dangerously close to a nearby lamp. She rolled onto her stomach and peered at the other girls with wide eyes. “It’s like a secret hideout!”

“Chaeyoung, be careful,” cautioned Mina. “You could break something – some of this stuff looks to be hundreds of years old.”

“This place could also be y-trapped,” added Jeongyeon.

“You really think so?” Chaeyoung perked up, sounding much more excited than wary.

Jeongyeon shrugged. “Sure, why not? A hidden study in a magical castle named after the school’s Founders? I’d bet ten sickles on it.”

Chaeyoung immediately hopped to her feet and held out her hand. “Deal. Er . . . wait – no, I also think it’s y-trapped – Dubs, bet against us and we’ll double the money.”

“No way am I betting against you and Jeongyeon,” snapped Dahyun. “Besides, I agree with you both; this place is bloody creepy – how is it not loaded with traps?” She folded her arms over her chest and huffed.

“What if I say twenty-five?”

“Uh . . . no.”

“Thirty?”

“Merlin’s Beard, stop going higher. I told you I’m not doing it.”

“I know! Two Galleons!”

“Deal!” Momo jumped in. She enthusiastically grabbed Chaeyoung’s hand and gave a firm shake.

“Momo!” Dahyun scolded.

“What? I need the money.”

Mina face-palmed.

After the spontaneous (and utterly pointless) bet was made, the girls continued to explore the study – though this time, Chaeyoung was determined to see if anything set off a trap. If the Department of Magical Law Enforcement ever swabbed the study, Mina was sure they’d only find the grubby fingerprints of a certain third-year.

The girls snuffed out every nook and cranny of the first floor, but came out empty handed. They carried their exploration upstairs in hopes for better success. The upper level walls were painted burgundy and cluttered with dozens of framed paintings, antique swords and shields, and long quaint tapestries. There were also alcoves dug into the walls displaying different items such as marble busts or suits of armor. It was an eclectic taste of artefacts on the balcony floor as if the Founders had hoarded priceless relics from all over the world during their lifetime.

They stopped at a marble model of Hogwarts castle set on top of a podium: the detail was intricate and fine like the artisan knew every aspect of the school, carving in the exact lines and curves into the stone. Chaeyoung stared at it in awe, drool almost spilling from her lips. But Mina knew it was not the accurate statue that attracted Chaeyoung. Looming over Hogwarts was a white dragon with its neck s around a tower and claws snagging through the tiles of the roof; the dragon’s massive body was arched like a cat ready to pounce; its wings spread with pride as a grotesque grimace twisted its face.

“Whoa. I’ve never seen a dragon like that before,” said Chaeyoung dreamily as she inspected the figure. “It’s absolutely gorgeous.” Mina thought that Chaeyoung seriously needed her eyes rechecked. “Look at the curvature of its wings and the angle of the scales – this helps to reduce drag when flying, allowing the dragon to move faster in the air. Judging by the thickness of the hide though, I’m pretty sure that flying isn’t this dragon’s strength. Its build looks a lot sturdier like it spends most of its time on the grounds.”

“You’re such a geek,” teased Mina, nudging her Housemate.

Chaeyoung scrunched her nose. “How many times do I have to tell you? Dragon talk is not geek talk!”

“Yeah, it is, Chaeng.”

“Shut up, Dubu.”

“This craftsmanship is incredible,” said Jeongyeon, her index finger tracing over the whittled scales. “It’s almost like the dragon is real.”

“What would you say if our dragon grew to be that big? It’s no Hungarian Horntail, but the Antipodean Opaleye can get to a pretty decent size – and if you go north enough, dragon species of the Mediterranean aren’t shrimps.” Chaeyoung turned to Mina.

Mina creased her brow, irked. “There is no ‘our’ dragon, there is only ‘your’ dragon – Chaeyoung’s dragon,” she replied hotly.

“Well . . . yeah, I guess it is my dragon, but we’ll be raising it together so I think that you are allowed some credit –”

“No, Chaeyoung, I am not raising a dragon! I didn’t sign up for that – heck, I didn’t even sign up for this – after we give the heirloom to Eads and get your stupid – yes, I said stupid – dragon egg, I am done!” snapped Mina.

“And do what? Join the Ministry? Follow that man in the hat?” Chaeyoung spat out her words in insult.

“What is wrong with that? That’s the career I want to do! Why do you have such a big problem with the Ministry of Magic?”

“Because it’s boring. That’s where imagination goes to die. You’re gonna end up just like that surly bloke: so stiff – so serious. You want to become a pawn? You want to become a mindless drone for the government and serve their self-servient agenda?”

“Whoa, kid –” Jeongyeon tried to step in between the two girls, but at this point, Mina was seething. She pushed the Gryffindor Captain aside, glowering at Chaeyoung.

“I want to be the best help I can within the Ministry. Obviously, it’s not perfect but a lot of good can come from of it. I want to be that good. You think running around, breaking rules – the law – and endangering your own life is imaginative? Profound? You think you’re breaking free of the ‘system’ with your hedonistic foolishness? Rubbish! I’ll tell you what it is! It’s selfish. It’s inconsiderate. It’s bloody ridiculous that you drag everyone around with your childish greed, never thinking about the consequences!”

Mina and Chaeyoung glared at each other in a furious silence.

“Uhhh . . . I hate to interrupt, but I think I found something.” Momo’s voice shattered the thick tension. Mina’s anger slowly subsided as she recomposed herself, cheeks heated from embarrassment and gaze averted to the floor. Chaeyoung let out a cough, trying her best to look sheepish, but was failing immensely.

“Great, what did you find, Momo?” asked Jeongyeon, eager to dissipate the fight.

Momo warily glanced at Mina and Chaeyoung like she was expecting them to bite off each other’s heads off – and maybe even hers. She explained how there was a hidden staircase in one of the alcoves, Eads’s mark labeled right above it. Despite all the grief it gave her, Mina was thankful that Eads’s mark was their breadcrumbs; without it, the quest would’ve been downright hopeless.

Before Mina could make her way to the stairs, Chaeyoung gently touched her hand and motioned her to stop. “Wait, Mina . . . I don’t want us to fight, not now – not when we’re so close to our – I mean, m-my – dragon.”

Mina expelled a weary sigh. “Me neither. Let’s just focus on finishing the quest for now, okay?”

Chaeyoung nodded and offered a small smile. “Truce?”

“Truce.”

The pressure seemed to be relieved for the time being, though Mina knew they merely brushed their differences underneath the rug; they couldn’t ignore this discussion forever.

At the top of the stairs was another room, an attic that was mostly barren. Much like the lower levels of the tower, an enormous window stood from floor to ceiling at the far end. Moonbeams shined down through the window like a spotlight kissing center stage, serving as the main and only source of light. Imprinted on the floor were several concentric circles, each of a different size and width, all refined in silver. Mina noticed that some of the rings had inscriptions on them: some had numbers inscribed along their edge in a random pattern whilst others had tick marks like that of a measuring tape. The entire design reminded Mina of a bullseye and at the heart was a humongous sphere made of dark polished stone.

“Well, if that doesn’t look like a trap, then I don’t know what does,” said Chaeyoung. “Ready to pay up, Momo?”

“What exactly is it?” asked Dahyun, regarding it cautiously. She lingered back, wary, as the other girls ventured closer.

Mina took cautious steps. If Chaeyoung was right then hypothetically anything could trigger the trap. The closer she got to the sphere, the better Mina could make out the smaller details. Silver gridded lines palmed the glossy surface and the sphere was embossed with jeweled shapes that resembled the continents. Quickly, Mina realized what it was.

“It’s . . . a globe,” she murmured.

“An oversized one,” commented Jeongyeon with a frown. “I don’t get it. Why would there be a gigantic Earth inside this room?”

Mina her lips. “Because it’s the center of the universe.” Her heartbeat quickened. The gears in her mind were working at full speed. “For a long time, it was believed that everything orbited around us: the sun, the moon, the planets, the stars – everything. This theory stemmed from the Greek astronomer, Ptolemy, and it carried on as the primary model of the universe for hundreds of years.”

She glanced at the others girls, doing a small jig in excitement as she pieced everything together. The map and the riddle were like the other clues: object and rhyme working concurrently with each other, it just wasn’t as apparent. The map led them to the Founders’ Tower, but it was the riddle that gave the directions to where the heirloom was hidden. “The riddle,” she explained, “it tells us that the final treasure is inside that globe.”

“If that’s the case, screw the traps!” Chaeyoung shed the outer robe of her uniform and rolled up the sleeves of her shirt. Greedily rubbing her hands together like an evil villain, she enthusiastically shouted, “Time to get that heirloom!”

Before anyone could stop her, Chaeyoung charged straight toward the globe. Mina, Jeongyeon, and Momo tried to chase after the younger girl, but Chaeyoung was too fast.

As Chaeyoung’s feet pattered against the floor, there was a loud bang. Mina froze in place as she whipped her head back and forth, trying to discern where the mysterious sound came from. Even Chaeyoung halted in place.

“Uhhh . . . Momo, please tell me that was your stomach.”

To Mina’s horror, the ground began to grumble. Cold sweat dripped down her temple. She hoped that the floor would not give out (she had already experienced that once in her life and would definitely not like to repeat it ever again) and she desperately hoped that a giant spider wouldn’t appear out of thin air. The prefect shuddered at the memory.

But what happened was just as scary. Slowly the rings on the floor came to life, rising up and forming a spherical contraption around the globe. The framework itself nested inside an elevated brass cradle, its mouth around the circumference was wide and flat like a platform which the girls stood on top of. The insides of the cradle curved in a deep slope, and enough space was gouged between the bones that if any one of them fell, their neck would snap in two the second they hit the ground.

The prefect gulped nervously. Her vision blurred as her eyes drifted downwards, and a dizzy spell took over. She braced her hands on her knees. Look away! Look away! Look away! Mina was not fond of heights. Why did it seem like this quest was after her greatest fears?

Mina wasn’t alone in that fear either: Momo let out an ear-piercing scream. The Hufflepuff sixth-year was crouched down low, hands pressed against the flat plane of the cradle, absolutely petrified. She continued to belt out wails even banshees could not compete with.

“Momo! Momo, are you okay?” Dahyun cried out from below. She was the only one who did not go onto the rings, thus she remained safe and secure on the ground. Mina was super envious.

Momo replied to Dahyun’s question with another screech.

Suddenly a whirring sound rang through the air like gears grinding against each other. Everyone jumped, startled. Individual rings started to spin in all sorts of directions like one of those horrid muggle amusement park rides. They weren’t necessarily moving fast, but it was enough to cause Mina’s stomach to boil with anxiety.

“I knew it! I bloody knew this was a trap – whoa!” Chaeyoung yelped in surprise as a ring swung towards her in full force. The third-year ducked and rolled out of its way just in time. “Yep. Definitely a trap.”

“It’s an armillary sphere to be specific,” said Mina, “an ancient tool that astronomers used to represent the heavens; the rings represent the longitude and latitude lines revolving around a celestial object – such as the sun, or in this case, the Earth.”

“Well, whatever it is, we need to get Momo down from it before she passes out,” said Jeongyeon who had drifted over to Momo’s side.

“What about the heirloom? We need to get the heirloom in the center globe!” exclaimed Chaeyoung.

“How to you propose we do that, kid? There are enormous rings protecting it!”

Chaeyoung then did possibly the stupidest thing Mina had ever witnessed the younger girl do: she jumped onto an approaching ring.

Everyone went into a panic.

“WHAT THE HELL, CHAEYOUNG?

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

“GET DOWN FROM THERE!”

Chaeyoung glanced over her shoulder with a defiant gleam in her eye. “I’m getting the heirloom!” she yelled back like it was obvious. “How about: ‘Chaeyoung, you’re so cool!’ ‘Chaeyoung, you have such great upper body strength!’ ‘Chaeyoung, marry me!’ Hello, where is the support?”

“Son Chaeyoung, you’re going to kill yourself!” shrieked Mina.

“Oh, that’s really helpful, Minari.”

“Damnit! The kid is crazy,” Jeongyeon gritted through her teeth. “We need to get her down! It’s too bloody dangerous!”

Mina glanced back and forth between Momo and Chaeyoung. Every fiber of her being was begging for her to ditch Chaeyoung and go down to Dahyun where she would be safe and sound, but Mina couldn’t. She just couldn’t. This was her mission just as much as it was Chaeyoung’s (even if it wasn’t voluntary). She had to help somehow.

“Jeongyeon, you take Momo down – it doesn’t look like she’ll last much longer,” said Mina. The prefect tossed her outer uniform robe away – like Chaeyoung had done earlier – and pulled out her wand. “I’ll go help Chaeyoung retrieve the heirloom.”

A part of Mina secretly hoped Jeongyeon would oppose and try to talk her out of doing something so boneheaded, but the Gryffindor Captain only sighed. “You two better come back down in one piece,” she said, wearily; she was in no mood to argue. “Once I get Momo to lower ground, I’ll come back up to help you both.” Jeongyeon looked directly at Mina in the eye, a small knowing smirk crossed her lips bringing Mina back to their brief talk earlier. “The kid is damn lucky to have you.

Jeongyeon hoisted Momo up by the arm. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she said. “Try to keep the crazy to a minimum.” She then directed her attention Momo, coaxing the girl out of her stupor, “It will be okay. We’ll get you down – don’t worry.”

Mina turned to check on Chaeyoung who was clinging onto a thin outer ring like a koala bear; she didn’t seem particularly disturbed as she spun around and upside down. And if Mina’s ears weren’t deceived, it sounded as if Chaeyoung was . . . enjoying being whirled around. Mina gaped at how fearless Chaeyoung was.

“Alright, Mina, you can do this,” she whispered to herself. “You can do this – you have magic on your side.” The prefect looked at the moving rings once again and blanched.

Okay . . . maybe she couldn’t do this.

No . . . Mina’s tightened her grip around her wand, doing her best to ignore the fervent shaking. She could do this. She would do this. She could almost hear Chaeyoung’s obnoxious voice telling her: what are you waiting for, Minari? Just go for it!

First things first, Mina needed to find a way around the rings. Maybe slowing them down?

“Arresto Momentum!” Mina shouted as she jabbed her wand towards the ring that Chaeyoung was on.

Unfortunately, the ring remained unaffected. And even worse, Chaeyoung was losing her grip; her body slowly slipping off.

Mina tried another spell, this time a charm to stop the ring altogether, but it produced the same results. Frustrated, Mina shot spell after spell, hoping to do something to the rings. Nothing happened.

“Hey, Minari? I don’t think your magic is working!” yelled Chaeyoung.

No, duh! Mina scowled. Why wasn’t her magic being effective? She knew these spells like the back of her hand! Perhaps it was because the ring’s cumbersome size, or perhaps they were charmed to be unaffected by magic; either way, it didn’t help Mina or Chaeyoung’s situation.

Think! Think! Think! If magic didn’t work on the rings . . . it still worked on people, right?

“CHAEYOUNG! USE A GRIPPING CHARM SO YOU DON’T FALL OFF OF THE RING!” Mina called out.

“WHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” was Chaeyoung’s response as she continued to spin around. Mina doubted the third-year heard her properly.

Mina cursed out loud. Fine, I’ll just take matters into own my hands. Step one: save the world’s most annoying thirteen year-old.

The prefect used the Gripping Charm on herself, her hands becoming sticky like they were glazed with a transparent glue. Mina’s plan was simple: she would jump and climb her way to Chaeyoung. Was it the best plan? No. Was it the smartest plan? Of course not. But it wasn’t like Mina was able to utilize a lot of convenient spells; levitation spells didn’t work on living human beings and she couldn’t just conjure up several meters of rope to swing through the rings either. (Where would they even secure the rope? There weren’t any good anchor points!) So, it looked like turning into a human-gecko was the only option.

Securing her wand in her pocket, Mina ran and climbed onto a large ring spinning towards her. Her hands fastened onto the cool metallic silver. Thank goodness the charm worked. Carefully, she crawled her way to the apex of her ring, anticipating another oncoming one.

It was awful, jumping from ring to ring. With every leap into the air, Mina’s insides twisted into a knot. Her stomach clenched like someone was wringing it dry, and her heart kicked into a never-ending frenzy. Whatever adrenaline she had, it was quickly fading with each jump. Mina did not enjoy it at all. Why did this room have to be y-trapped? Why couldn’t they just march right up to the globe and retrieve the heirloom? Mina made a mental note to never ever get involved in any sort of treasure quest again.

Luckily, Mina made it to Chaeyoung’s ring safely. She hugged the ring like a sloth and slowly scooted her way over to the apex where Chaeyoung was. The third-year wasn’t doing too great: she was barely hanging on.

“All right, Minari? Care to hang out?” Chaeyoung, despite being seconds away from falling, had on that smug grin.

“Ha ha, funny,” replied Mina, drily. She offered a sticky hand to Chaeyoung and beckoned her to grab on. Using all of her strength, Mina hoisted Chaeyoung up so the third-year could readjust her position, copying Mina’s sloth-like posture with a death-grip. “We need to get back to the platform and catch our breaths,” said Mina. Chaeyoung did not argue.

The two girls were able to make their way back to the flat mouth of the cradle without any trouble. Mina collapsed to her knees, her chest panting heavily and the urge to the vomit lurked in the back of . Chaeyoung remained on her feet with a wild gleam in her eyes, dancing around gleefully.

“This is the coolest thing ever! Isn’t it fun, Minari?”

Fun was the last word Mina would use to describe it. More like horrible or ghastly or ten-out-ten would-not-recommend.

“Chaeng, focus . . . W-we need to get to the center to retrieve the heirloom,” huffed Mina. Damn, she was still out of breath.

“Too bad we can’t fly – there really should be a broomstick here – but think about it: this is why having a dragon would be so convenient! You could just blast your way through everything. Giant metal rings would never be a problem. And you would look super cool, too.”

“Chaeyoung.”

“Right, right . . . Well, I guess it’s time to do it the less cool way.” She crouched her body like she was going to sprint right off the cradle platform.

“W-wait . . . we’re going to hop our way over to the globe?” Mina’s blood drained from her face. Sure, she did the same to get to Chaeyoung, but she was hoping they could think of another solution to getting the heirloom other than ring-jumping. Something less . . . life-threatening.

Chaeyoung shook her head. “No, I’m going to hop my way over; you’re going to stay here and make sure I don’t fall. No offense, Minari, but you don’t look so good. I don’t think you have any more jumps left in you.”

A wave of relief washed over Mina; Chaeyoung was indeed correct: Mina did not have it in her to do anymore jumping. She already did her fair share of athletics for the next five years or so! 

But the Ravenclaw prefect remained worried about her Housemate.

“At least let me cast the Gripping Charm on you,” said Mina. She grabbed ahold of Chaeyoung and tapped her wand against the blistered palms.

Chaeyoung watched in amazement as her hands became coated with a sticky goo. “Whoa, this looks like it’s handy. You’ll have to teach the charm to me one day.” She glanced up and met Mina’s eyes. “Hey now, why the face? I’ll be fine. Geez, you look like you’re about to cry.”

To both girls’ surprise, Mina engulfed Chaeyoung in a hug, her arms wound tightly around the smaller girl. “Please don’t die,” she murmured in Chaeyoung’s ear.

“Don’t worry, Minari,” Chaeyoung whispered back, reciprocating the hug. “Our dragon awaits us.”

The two parted, and Mina blinked away nervous tears, unable to bring herself to correct the third-year. She’d let it slide this time.

Then with a wink, Chaeyoung left her.

Mina held her breath. Chaeyoung walked to the edge of the platform, waiting with calculating eyes as she made sure to time her jump right. With a push off of the metal, Chaeyoung ungracefully leapt into the air; for a moment, it seemed like the younger girl’s body was suspended – until gravity pulled her down with full force.

“CHAEYOUNG!” Mina screamed as Chaeyoung clumsily landed on a spinning ring with a grunt.

“I’M OKAY!” Chaeyoung called back, flashing her the “ok” sign. But when she moved to reposition herself, she winced. “Ow . . .”

“YOU IDIOT! I TOLD YOU NOT TO DIE!”

“GIVE ME A BREAK, I’M TRYING MY BEST!”

Mina chewed her bottom lip. Her wand was raised ready to do something in case Chaeyoung had a slip up (though she wasn’t sure exactly what’d she do).

So far, so good.

Chaeyoung was like a small lemur darting from one ring to another. She moved quickly and fluidly. Closer and closer, Chaeyoung made her way toward the center with ease. But her good fortune did not last long.

Mina saw it coming: Chaeyoung had misjudged the timing of an oncoming ring; she had jumped off too soon and wasn’t going to make it. Mina panicked. Her heart lurched to , blocking any sound from leaving. Her body was rigid and mind drew a blank as she watched Chaeyoung fall.

“MIIIIIINNNNNNAAAAAAAAAAAA! HEEELLPP MEEEEE!” Chaeyoung sounded like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

This snapped Mina out of her paralysis. Without thinking, Mina pointed her wand at her falling Housemate and shouted “AGUAMENTI!” A huge jetstream of water violently shot out of the tip. It was much more powerful than the blast Mina conjured at Gryffindor Tower to extinguish the fire. The stream hit Chaeyoung, pushing her back at full force. The third-year collided with the globe with a thud. Frantically, she grabbed ahold of the stone surface, her Gripping Charm still seemingly in effect.

Due to the recoil of the spell, Mina herself stumbled backwards, but was stabilized by a set of arms.

“Jeongyeon!” Mina cried in delight as she glanced up to see the Gryffindor Captain smirking at her.

“A water spell, Myoui?” she asked. “I thought I told you to keep the crazy to a minimum.”

The prefect blushed. “Well, it worked.”

Mina stood up and saw Chaeyoung at the top of the globe looking like bedraggled cat who had just been dunked in a bathtub, but a victorious expression glowed on Chaeyoung’s face. The third-year pressed Eads’s mark against the globe, and it began to glow. The whirring of the rings died down and soon they all came to a halt. Subsequently, one by one, the rings lowered themselves into the ground like they were retreating back to hibernation. Mina practically threw herself to the floor in relief.

The globe crumbled away into dust causing Chaeyoung to fall flat on her . Mina rushed to her Housemate’s side, pestering Chaeyoung if she was okay.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” Chaeyoung whined as Mina inspected the younger girl closely. “I’ll just have a big bruise on my tomorrow.” She ran a hand through her wet, blonde hair and scrunched her nose. “A water spell?” she asked, though unlike Jeongyeon, Chaeyoung sounded less amused and more annoyed. “I thought you didn’t want me to die!”

“I didn’t know what else to do! I just acted on instinct!” protested Mina, “And hey, I saved your life! Twice, in fact!”

Unexpectedly, Chaeyoung burst into laughter, grabbing one of Mina’s hands and gently the outside with her thumb in soothing circles. “Yes, you did – it was very cool too! Although not as cool as me hopping from one ring to another!”

Mina rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her smile.

With the stone globe gone, a complex clockwork of plates was revealed, buzzing and whining like a mechanical hummingbird. The contour resembled Eads’s mark. In the center – which was occupied by the moon on Mina and Chaeyoung’s wrists – was a thick disk, the size of a medal and colored a pale wintery silver.

Mina drew in a sharp breath. She felt Chaeyoung crush her fingers in excitement as if the third-year had forgotten she was holding Mina’s hand.

“Mina . . . that’s . . .” Chaeyoung could barely get out her words. A fire danced in her eyes as her body became more and more wound up.

“The heirloom,” Mina breathed. She choked back a sob.

They did it. She and Chaeyoung actually did it. They found Eads’s lost heirloom.

Chaeyoung let go of Mina and skipped over to the plates. She didn’t hesitate or check to see if there were any traps (Mina wouldn’t put it past the room to have one final y trap and make all of their efforts futile), Chaeyoung just boldly grabbed the disk like she was swiping a freshly baked cookie from the kitchens.

“It’s warm,” she said, surprised, as she handed the heirloom over to the prefect to hold.

The heirloom was warm. It was like holding a cozy bundle of fire in the palm of your hands. Mina’s wrist tingled, though this time it wasn’t painful. It seemed almost relieved, as if was sighing at last.

The two girls exchanged looks, basking in a silent victory. Mina’s heart was overwhelmed with too many emotions that she didn’t know where to begin. Three months later – three very long months – and here they were: she and Chaeyoung could go back to Eads and present him with his found treasure. They wouldn’t face the doomed fate like Mina had dreamt about. Chaeyoung could get her dragon egg. And Mina could leave this all behind. She would never have to think about weird riddles or giant spiders or liquid moonlight or death traps again. Mina was free. Well, almost free.

Finally, the soundless celebration was broken by Chaeyoung’s loud shout of glee.

“WE’RE GOING TO GET A DRAGON! WE’RE GOING TO GET A DRAGON!” she belted from the top of her lungs. Part of Mina wanted to scold her Housemate (if Chaeyoung sang any louder, surely the whole school would know what they had been up to), but she remained mum, letting the younger girl have her joy. She deserved it.

Chaeyoung tackled Mina in a hug, gushing out more cheers that definitely blew some damage to Mina’s right eardrum.

“Okay, okay, Chaeng. You can calm down now,” Mina said after her hearing in her left ear was a goner too. She pushed Chaeyoung by the shoulder lightly to give some room between their bodies – it was getting hard to breath as well.

“HOW CAN I CALM DOWN WHEN WE’RE GOING TO GET A DRAGON?” Chaeyoung was euphoric. Her round eyes were big and glassy, and her dimple was like a canyon.

“You’re such a kid,” Mina laughed, softly. Her gummy smile was wide. 

A scowl flashed across Chaeyoung’s face like she was going to object to Mina’s comment, but a grin bounced right back within seconds. “Ah, but soon I’ll be a dragon owner!”

Chaeyoung rambled on and on about her dragon as Mina listened. The thrill of triumph began to wear away, and the raw realization hit Mina hard. Everything was coming to an end. Her days with Chaeyoung were numbered. After December’s new moon, that was it. Mina had to focus on her internship application and the O.W.L.s; she couldn’t spend her days running around with the school’s most notorious mischief-maker anymore. If she wanted to get into the Ministry of Magic, she couldn’t have any more distractions. That’s what she always wanted, right?

“Hey, Minari?”

“Yeah, Chaeng?”

Chaeyoung gazed up at Mina with almost as much affection as the third-year gave her Drakoscope.

“Thank you. For everything.”

Mina smiled fondly at Chaeyoung, trying her best to ignore the aching in her heart. She tenderly brushed a lock of hair from the third-year’s face, tucking it behind her ear. Chaeyoung’s arms were still looped around Mina, and so the prefect did what she thought words couldn’t convey: she brought Chaeyoung back in a heartfelt hug. She was thankful that Chaeyoung could not see the tears trailing down her cheeks.

This is it.

Mina made sure their hug lasted for a long, long time because she suspected there wouldn’t be a next time.

/ / /

Tzuyu was heartbroken.

Sana still wouldn’t talk to her. It had been days since Tzuyu slipped to Dahyun that Sana had veela blood, leading the sixth-year to run away. Tzuyu tried her best to apologize, but Sana avoided her profusely: Tzuyu couldn’t spot that mousey brown hair and sharp profile anywhere within the school; it was as if Sana had vanished completely from her life. All she wanted to do was tell Sana how truly sorry she was.

How could she have been so stupid?

Additionally, she tried to clear everything up with Dahyun, but much to her dismay, it fared no better. Dahyun, too, evaded any contact with Tzuyu. She turned her nose whenever Tzuyu approached her, stalking away without a word just to relieve herself of Tzuyu’s presence. If Dahyun had been cold earlier, then she was frigid with the Slytherin girl now.

There was a relentless pain in her chest: a dull throb like someone had lodged a knife into her heart and it had made its home there, a parasite feeding upon her guilt. The more Tzuyu replayed her regret, the more intense the ache was.

“Tzuyu? Are you okay?” Tzuyu blinked, meeting the concerned gaze of Jungkook. It was Friday morning. She and the other Slytherins were at breakfast, fueling up before another day of lessons. Tzuyu had ignored the chatter, too lost within her own thoughts and mistakes.

“Er . . .”

“You haven’t touched your food at all.” Jungkook gestured to Tzuyu’s plate that held only a single measly roll of bread (no jam or butter). Although Tzuyu loved bread, she no longer had the appetite; there were too many memories tied to it. “Here, you need more nutrients now that you’re back playing. Can’t have you falling off your broom again, eh?” The Slytherin Quidditch Captain piled heaps and heaps of eggs and bacon onto Tzuyu’s plate and scooped up a bowl of hot cereal for her as well. “You’ll need protein, of course, and eating carbs is essential to maintaining your energy – though I do recommend more complex carbs than simply white bread.” He eyed the lonesome bread roll disapprovingly.

Tzuyu numbly watched Jungkook push the loaded plate in front of her, not having the heart to tell him she wasn’t hungry at all. She hadn’t been for the past few days. But, unable to bear the stares of Jungkook and the rest of her Housemates, Tzuyu took a forkful, the scrambled eggs tasting bland on her tongue.

She continued the rest of breakfast in a dismal daze, eyes wandering in search for Sana. Out of habit, really. She didn’t expect to find the Hufflepuff girl for Sana had missed every breakfast since that devastating day.

However, today was different. Tzuyu immediately shot out of her seat when she spotted Sana sitting amongst her Housemates, wedged in between Momo and Dahyun, her expression blank as if the life had been out of her. Before any of the Slytherin students could say something, Tzuyu dashed over to Sana.

“Sana.” Tzuyu’s voice cracked. She did not like that when Sana turned around, both Momo and Dahyun did as well. Suddenly, Tzuyu felt small, even though she was the one towering over the other girls. It was like she was on trial, standing before a jury as she awaited her sentence. She wished she could talk to Sana alone, but she swallowed her fear. What else could she do? She had to apologize. Make things right.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out – a little too loudly, a little too quickly. “I’m so sorry, Sana. I truly am. I know you won’t forgive me, but if you could just accept my apology . . .”

Great. Now the entire Hufflepuff table was staring at her.

Tzuyu gulped, unsure if she should say more. She did not want to make the same mistake twice and spill Sana’s secret to an even bigger audience.

Sana regarded Tzuyu in silence with a wounded expression. Her skin was pallid, and her eyes were alarmingly blood-shot. Tzuyu wondered if Sana had cried every night since that day.

“Tzuyu,” she said hoarsely like she had not spoken out loud for several days, “I do forgive you, and I do accept your apology. But I think I need some time alone . . . time apart . . . from you.”

It was a kick to the stomach. Tzuyu felt as if her entire body had shattered. There was a rise of mixed emotions: humiliation, dejection, disappointment; all inking her heart black.

“Sana, please – maybe if we could talk in private,” implored Tzuyu. “Let me explain. I didn’t do it on purpose – it was a mistake! I –”

“Tzu, don’t.” Dahyun’s words cut like a razor blade, slashing straight through Tzuyu’s heart. She held up a hand in a halt motion. “Not here. Not now.”

Tzuyu glanced at the fourth-year, though her gaze remained primarily fixed on Sana.

“Sana . . .” she begged again.

But Sana said nothing more. She couldn’t even meet Tzuyu’s pleading eyes. She just turned around, and the rest of the Hufflepuff students did the same. Dahyun was slower than the others: her cold eyes hung on Tzuyu, dark glaciers pooled in her unwavering stare. Tzuyu thought that for a second her friend was going to say something more – maybe she hoped that Dahyun would. But it never came. The silent treatment resumed. At last, Dahyun turned her back to Tzuyu, ending any hope that Tzuyu could make amends.

With heavy shoulders and a heavy heart, Tzuyu walked out of the Great Hall without a sound, lonelier than ever.

It was not yet the end of November but winter was approaching. The first snow had made its landing the previous night. Fresh flakes padded the ground: a soft, thin blanket of white warmed the Highlands in preparation for the long sleepless nights. The air whistled, brittle and gruff, like Old Man Winter had woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Tzuyu adjusted her green and silver scarf to keep the chill air from freezing her face off. Her footsteps tramped through the snow, leaving a long trail of clean prints from the castle all the way to the abandoned greenhouses.

She walked and walked and walked, concentrating on each step she made. One . . . two . . . one . . . two . . . one . . . perhaps it was the only thing that Tzuyu wanted to concentrate on. She grappled with her newfound solitude: an isolated shadow amongst the stark white snow – it was not an entirely foreign feeling (for everyone experiences loneliness at some point), but one she did not embrace either. Her body was tired. As was her heart. She wondered if this feeling of emptiness would ever leave.

Gucci greeted her at the entrance: the tilt of his head asking where Sana might be (he had grown quite accustomed to the Hufflepuff girl) and his tail wagging in anticipation. But as Tzuyu shut the door, Gucci’s mood dropped upon Sana’s absence once again.

“I know,” Tzuyu whispered as she bent down to pet him, “I miss her too.”

She glanced around the greenhouse, the echoes of laughter that once settled within the walls were now just tainted memories of the past. Had it been nothing more than a dream, her time with Sana? Tzuyu did not want to forget so soon her unexpected friendship with the older girl, but each time she was reminded of Sana, it hurt. So much.

“C’mon Gucci, you cannot stay here with the temperatures rapidly dropping,” cooed Tzuyu as she tried to coax him into her arms. Since these greenhouses weren’t in use anymore, they no longer had charms placed on them to keep them warm for the winter. If Gucci stayed here any longer, Tzuyu was sure he’d fall ill. Or worse. She needed to take Gucci back inside the castle – to where, she wasn’t exactly sure, but she would find someplace – that mysterious room in the depth of the dungeons was always an option.

However, Gucci seemed to sense that Tzuyu wanted to take him away, and he timidly backed away from his owner. He whined and whimpered. His large eyes flickered back and forth between Tzuyu and the door.

“She’s not coming back, Gucci. Sana’s not coming back.”

Gucci yipped in defiance: I don’t believe you! She will be back! He jumped onto his hind legs, his barks growing louder and louder as if he hoped that his cries for Sana would be heard.

“Stop it . . . stop it . . . STOP IT!” Tzuyu shouted. She buried her head in her hands; her eyes and cheeks were wet with salty tears and her body shook uncontrollably. Soft cries turned to obnoxious sobs, and Tzuyu sank to her knees. She hadn’t cried when Sana first left her, she hadn’t cried the next day either. It was not that Tzuyu didn’t feel like crying, rather she was too numb with shock to let her emotions take the wheel.

But it finally hit her. The tremor of emotions was a violent rush. She could not stop it nor did she want to. She wept and wept, bumbling strings of apologies to closed ears, begging that she could go back in time and redo everything: go back and keep Sana’s secret tucked away forever, or go back and never ask Sana about the rumors, or maybe – maybe even go back far enough to never have interacted with Sana in the first place.

No. No, Tzuyu did not want that.

Outside, the snow continued to fall; the ashen sky as distant as a memory. The cold weather instilled a silent catharsis within the greenhouse. How appropriate, Tzuyu mused, crying in gloomy weather. In a way, it was relieving to cry in company of a bleak and dreary day. Her grief was shared. The sky would mourn with her – even if only for a moment – Tzuyu would not have endure her loneliness alone.

As Tzuyu’s heart slowly ascended from the bottom of her stomach back to where it belonged in her chest – no longer feeling like it was pumping blood, but a dead weight embalmed in misery – the third-year was hit this time with the harsh realization that Sana was indeed not coming back. Her words to Gucci solidified the terrible truth. Another round of tears flushed down her cheeks. Gucci watched her solemnly, not a peep coming from his mouth, as if he now understood everything too.

When Tzuyu ran out of tears, she picked up Gucci – exhausted as well – and carried him all the way back to the castle. There was nothing left inside of her: the sadness, the guilt, the self-pity, all seemed to have vanished; the magnitude of her emptiness now unmistakable. She walked (one, two, one, two) with her head lowered and Gucci stuffed down the front of her coat to be hidden from meddling eyes. Her gaze remained hard-pressed on the floor, unaware of her surroundings.

“Oof –!”

“Whoa!”

Tzuyu stumbled back as she collided with a girl, clutching her chest to make sure that Gucci would not make a fuss. The girl had fallen on her , rubbing her backside in slight discomfort. She was short – hardly taller than Dahyun or Chaeyoung – with bobbed brown hair and bright eyes; she wore a Gryffindor uniform, the long flowing black robes accompanied with the red and gold tie, and a prefect badge pinned neatly above her left .

“I’m so sorry, Park,” Tzuyu said, flustered. She extended a hand to Jihyo. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

Jihyo accepted Tzuyu’s help and stood up, brushing off her clothes with a sweep of her hands. “Clearly. Just be careful next time, Chou.”

Tzuyu dipped her head in understanding; nervously, she shifted from foot to foot, keen to leave as quickly as possible before Jihyo said anything more, but perhaps she was being too obvious because Jihyo then asked, “Are you hiding something underneath your coat?” as she eyed Tzuyu up and down.

“N-no . . .” Tzuyu replied, trying her best to press Gucci flat against her chest. Please, please, please don’t make a sound, Gucci, she begged internally.

Jihyo remained unconvinced. She took a step closer – her large eyes now narrowed to only slits and brow creased in suspicion. This was bad. Very bad. Tzuyu held her breath as Jihyo inspected her once again. “Is this Son’s doing?”

“Um, sorry?”

“Son isn’t making you carry out one of her pranks, is she?” Jihyo patiently clarified. Tzuyu rapidly shook her head – maybe a little too eagerly – denying any allegations.

Jihyo opened , possibly to ask another question or rat Tzuyu out, but there was a shout. Two boys sprinted down the hallway, hair ruffled and school robes billowing behind them with their speed. They looked like frightened animals, screaming at the top of their lungs. Tzuyu was well familiar with the two: BamBam of Slytherin and Yugyeom of Hufflepuff – the self-proclaimed mischief rivals of Dahyun and Chaeyoung.

“Hey, you two! No running in the corridors,” barked Jihyo.

“No can do, Hyo! They’re on our tail!” The taller of the two, Yugyeom, shouted as he and BamBam continued to sprint.

“Who?”

“You two get back here and clean up the mess you made!” a snarl rang in the air. Within seconds, Tzuyu and Jihyo saw two more boys, older, turn the corner: the first one had shaggy black hair with several ear piercings; his shirt collar was popped up, and his red and gold necktie hung low around his neck. The other boy Tzuyu recognized as her House’s Head Boy, Park Jinyoung (no relation to the headmaster); he carried himself with his princely air and perfect coiffure.

“Jaebum? What’s going on?” Jihyo asked the rugged Gryffindor boy.

Tzuyu used the distraction as a chance to slip away from Jihyo as the Gryffindor prefect conversed with the older students; for once, she was grateful that BamBam and Yugyeom were just as big troublemakers as her friends. As soon as Tzuyu put enough distance between herself and Jihyo, she opened up her jacket, letting Gucci take a gulp of fresh air.

“You did a good job back there,” Tzuyu praised. Gucci eyed her in annoyance and started to preen himself.

Thankfully, Tzuyu didn’t have much trouble after Jihyo. She zipped down to the dungeons, veering right and left within the cold enclosed walls as Gucci snored loudly in her arms. She made it to the red door, still battered and decorated with the weird circular symbol. Truthfully, she didn’t want to bring Gucci back to the room – the place was terribly creepy – but what other choice did she have? She didn’t know where else to take him; anywhere else in the castle was too risky because people like Dahyun and Chaeyoung or BamBam and Yugyeom were always looking to stir trouble; nowhere was safe. Nowhere but this room.

If only Sana was here . . . But she’s not here. She’s not coming back.

And there was no one else to blame for it but herself.

/ / /

Dahyun should’ve been in a celebratory mood. By some miracle, Chaeyoung and Mina had successfully retrieved the heirloom and no longer had their necks on the chopping board with a Black-Market dealer’s knife hovering over them. That was a huge reason to celebrate, right?

But Dahyun’s heart was elsewhere. It had been elsewhere for days now. Only part of her was paying attention when she and the others figured out the map, or when they explored the tower, or when she watched her best friend jump from one spinning ring to another like an amateur trapeze artist. She couldn’t stop thinking about Sana. She couldn’t stop thinking about what Tzuyu said.

Dahyun wasn’t exactly sure how to digest the information, and it sat in her heart now for days with uncertain feelings. That day, that evening had whipped by in a blur. The only things she truly registered at the time was that Tzuyu and Sana were not together, and Tzuyu had upset Sana somehow, causing the older girl to run away in tears. Silent rage and worry consumed Dahyun. Her feelings battled each other, and ultimately her concern for Sana’s condition overpowered her frustration with her friend. Ignoring Tzuyu, Dahyun scampered down the spiral staircase, praying Sana had not gone far. She was not sure exactly what she would say to the older Hufflepuff girl, but if anything, she just wanted to be a shoulder to lean on.

However, when she reached the bottom of the tower, Sana was gone.

Dahyun had skipped out on the victory party Jeongyeon insisted on having in the kitchens after they got the heirloom – only to be hunted down by the Gryffindor Captain who said the younger girl needed to make up for missing out on their game of butterbeer pong. (Dahyun winced at the thought because she was sure Jeongyeon would actually spike the drinks if she agreed to do it.) She also stopped going to whatever meetings Mina had been hosting; she didn’t really know what they were about, but they probably pertained to the upcoming meeting with Eads. To Dahyun, Chaeyoung and Mina’s quest wasn’t a priority anymore. Her energy needed to be redirected to more crucial matters at hand.

Since the incident, Sana’s lively demeanor was almost muted, no longer chatting animatedly and only mumbling a few words here and there. That radiant smile had faded away too. Thankfully, Sana didn’t isolate herself from others. She was willing to socialize – be near people – but it wasn’t a complete remedy. Dahyun could still see how beat up Sana was, like a dark gray cloud lingered over her head.

After Tzuyu approached the Hufflepuff table that morning, Sana’s mood went from bad to worse. According to Momo, Sana ditched their entire morning schedule, holing herself up in the dormitory room. It seemed that the sixth-year wasn’t ready to talk to Tzuyu, much less see her. Dahyun opted to skip lunch in favor of checking upon Sana. Momo offered to join, but Dahyun insisted that she do it alone. There were things she and Sana needed to discuss.

The fourth-year hesitated, standing in front of the large round door, her hand hovered over the oak wood. She drew in a deep breath. Knock. Knock. Two short, curt raps. Enough to ask for attention, but not enough to be intrusive.

Silence. Dahyun frowned, tried again, and was met with the same answer.

“Sana? May I come in?” Dahyun pushed on the door, the high-pitched creak making her flinch, as she stepped forth into the sixth-year Hufflepuff girls’ dormitory room.

The Hufflepuff dormitories were different from the other Houses – or at least Dahyun assumed so. For one, none of the other houses were placed within an earthy backdrop; the walls were built of stone, and there was fancy wood paneling and pillars to liven up the space. Around the room there were about a half-dozen lunettes spaced out, each pouring in sunlight onto the stone floor. Copper lamps hung low on each pillar, and copper bed warmers were placed by the four poster beds, all to ensure that the dorm would stay nice and warm despite being placed in the cellar of the school. It looked like Sana and her roommates had taken liberty to do their own decoration within their living space: fairy lights were strung across the beams on the ceiling; potted flowers and plants were placed everywhere (half of them sadly were dead); and there was a big cloth banner of a badger tacked to the far end of the room.

Dahyun waded through the mess littered across the dormitory floor – clothes scattered everywhere, make-up brushes and palettes were strewn across the vanity tops, loose homework discarded, books stacked in untidy piles, empty boxes of food (probably courtesy of Momo) – it was an absolute pigsty. Whoever said that girls were neat? Dahyun cringed as she accidentally stepped on a plate of half-eaten chocolate lava cake (what a waste).

When she reached Sana’s bed, Dahyun’s heart broke in two. Sana sat on her blankets with her knees hugged tight to her chest and her brown hair draped over her face, a curtain to shelter herself from the outside world. She sniffled. Not even looking up to greet Dahyun.

“Sana,” said Dahyun gently as she knelt in front of the older girl, taking Sana’s hands into her own. “Talk to me, please.”

Sana blinked. There weren’t any tears, but her eyes were red like she had been crying for hours. Her bottom lip quivered. It ached Dahyun’s heart not to see her cheerful Sana. This Sana was almost a stranger. Melancholic. Hollow. Lost.

“Dahyunnie . . .” she croaked.

“Sana,” Dahyun repeated, “I’m worried about you. Ever since . . . ever since that day, you haven’t been doing so well. I know Tzuyu . . .” Sana’s head snapped up with a distraught expression. Okay, scratch that. Do not mention Tzuyu. “Um, we haven’t really discussed it . . . but do you want to talk about what happened?”

No answer.

Dahyun let go of her Housemate’s hands and stood up. “I understand. Maybe now isn’t the right time –”

“No. Wait. W-we should talk about it.” Sana met Dahyun’s eyes; she showed a small smile, something Dahyun expected to be an attempt to say I’m okay! Don’t worry, Dahyunnie! When both girls knew that was far from the truth.

But Dahyun returned the smile, indicating to Sana that they could be frank with each other. Sana was safe here. The pale girl sat down next to Sana on the bed, their bodies touching. Dahyun’s insides squirmed at the contact: although this wasn’t the first time she and Sana had been close, since Tzuyu revealed there was nothing going on between the two of them, Dahyun felt like her crush on Sana had swelled. It was back to having a chance.

No, now is not the appropriate time to think about your crush, Dahyun scolded herself silently. You have to help Sana first.

“Okay,” she said, “let’s talk. Uh . . . so . . . I guess everything that, um, was said was true – about the veela blood and all.”

Sana let out a muffled sob.

Dahyun tugged at her uniform collar nervously and words began to stumble out: “S-sorry! You know, having veela blood isn’t all that bad – they’re not bad creatures – I don’t think I could ever think of you as someone who’s bad – like you’re so nice and friendly and have the most compassionate heart ever – how could you ever be bad? Wow, I’m saying the word bad a lot – but you’re not bad! – I bet there are a ton of veela out there who are all of these things too – I mean, the veela are already pretty – n-not that looks are everything – but they are pretty – you are very pretty – of course, you are way more than just visuals, you know? – where was I going with this? Oh yeah – not that I’m saying you’re the exception when it comes to the veela – but you kind of are – not in that kind of way though, in a different way – does that make sense? Am I making sense? Oh my goodness, I’m rambling . . . I’m going to shut up now.”

The fourth-year locked her jaw, a furious red tinge painted her white cheeks. She desperately wished she hadn’t spoken. It must be her hidden talent: what was supposed to be a meaningful talk turned into utter nonsense. Great job, Dubu! You really have a way with words!

Then, to Dahyun’s surprise, she heard soft giggles. Dahyun watched quizzically as Sana erupted into a fit of laughter. It started off slow and contained, soon morphing into howls. Sana clutched her stomach and fell on her back, her hair sprawled out against her rose gold comforter.

“Uh . . . Sana?”

“D-Dahyunnie,” Sana heaved, “I-I’m sorry . . . I’m not laughing at you . . . That was just . . .” Sana continued to let out a series of squeals. “I – Hahaha . . . Oh my!” The older girl took deep breathes, trying to calm herself. Unexpectedly, she rolled her side and grabbed Dahyun by the waist and pulled the small girl down to lay beside her on the bed. Dahyun thought she would self-combust as Sana hugged her firmly, laughing into the crook of her neck. “I . . . Ahaha . . . I . . . Okay . . . H-hold on . . .”

Several minutes passed until Sana’s laughter subsided. Only her heavy panting echoed in the empty room. Sana’s face was centimeters away from Dahyun, noses practically touching; the fourth-year wanted to scream (out of joy or panic, she wasn’t sure yet) but it seemed like a mood killer so she shoved that need aside.

“I’m sorry, Dahyunnie. I didn’t mean to burst into laughter, but I have to admit, it’s just what I needed. Thank you.”

“Er . . . right.” Truthfully, Dahyun didn’t understand why Sana laughed. She didn’t think she said anything particularly funny. Her thoughts did not linger on it for long though. Right now, her brain wasn’t functioning properly. What did Sana say? Merlin’s beard. That smile was super distracting.

To Dahyun’s horror, Sana closed what little space was left between them. The older girl crushed Dahyun in her arms like she was holding onto a life preserver. Her soft lips brushed Dahyun’s ear, voice dialed down to a raw whisper.

“When I was a kid, my veela heritage wasn’t a secret – the whole town knew. My grandmother was never ashamed of it and neither was my mother. I think over the years they built a thick enough skin to ignore the ogling stares or the whispers. But as a kid, you don’t have that shield yet. You’re vulnerable and impressionable to everything: you notice the looks; you hear the gossip; you absorb every single word thrown at you.” Sana sighed. Her voice became softer and softer. “Eventually my family moved – my parents never confirmed that the bullying was part of the reason why, but I suspect it was. I had become so disgusted with my veela blood – it was terrible. I told myself I would carry it with me as a secret to my grave.

“Of course, that promise was eventually broken. I ended up spilling it to Momoring shortly after we met because I had a slight break down – being overwhelmed by everything like most first-years. But until Tzuyu, I kept mum about it.

“There are rumors about me, naturally: Minatozaki is a flirt. Minatozaki is an attention hog. Minatozaki can hypnotize people. But I can live with that; it’s harmless compared to the bigger picture. Let them think what they think. It is better than the truth.”

Sana didn’t go into detail, and Dahyun didn’t push it. The older girl seemed weary, like she was still keeping secrets close to her chest. All these years, Sana tried to hide – possibly even forget – part of who she was, refusing to let anyone in because to let someone in meant to succumb yourself to vulnerability. And to be vulnerable meant that you were never safe.

A natural silence crept in between the girls, cozy and familiar, the kind of silence that Dahyun felt snug in. Dahyun traced her forefinger over Sana’s knuckles, passing over the valleys and bumps as if she were memorizing each curve of the bone. She hummed in rhythm to her causing Sana’s eyelids to grow heavier and heavier. The soothing touch was all Dahyun could offer to her friend. She did not trust herself to try again with words – that had already been a disaster.

Dahyun rolled on her back, facing the canopy of Sana’s bed. It was filled with dozens and dozens of pictures: many were family photos waving at the camera, a handful of Sana and her friends throughout the years, and one that Dahyun carried deep within her heart. The photo was taken during a surprise birthday party Dahyun had thrown for Sana a few years back: the two girls leaned in close to each other; baby fat rounding out their faces and eyes glittering thanks to the camera flash. They seemed livelier – sprightlier – like the exhaustion and stress of life had not yet worn them down. Dahyun’s fingers brushed over her cheek, touching the exact spot where Sana had kissed her that day. She stared at the photograph as the vivid memory sprung into her mind. The moment, as well as her unflatteringly shocked expression, was permanently captured on film. Forever. And apparently, Sana saw it every night before she went to sleep. The tips of Dahyun’s ears burned at such a thought.

Sana was sleeping now. Light snores left her parted lips and her body was curled in a fetal position. Dahyun’s breath hitched as the older girl adjusted herself, her hair tickling underneath Dahyun’s chin and Sana’s natural sweet scent becoming overwhelming. Her heart drummed in her ears. Her breathing was short and shaky. She tried not to think about how cute Sana looked as she slept.

“I wish I could tell you that everything will be alright,” she confided. “And I wish I had the power to ensure that everything will be alright. For you to never be hurt again. But even with all of the magic in the world, that isn’t possible, right?”

A tear slipped down Dahyun’s cheek. Although Sana was sound asleep, Dahyun made sure every single ounce of tenderness was interlaced with her words. She meant everything she said.

“So, I wish for you to love yourself. Maybe it won’t happen today, maybe it won’t happen tomorrow. But I wish that one day you’ll wake up and you will no longer be ashamed of you who are.”

Dahyun threaded her fingers through Sana’s. Oh, how badly she wanted to bring Sana’s soft hand to her lips. She took a deep breath. She had to say it out loud. At least once. She couldn’t keep it imprisoned any longer. “I wish you knew that having veela blood doesn’t change, and won’t ever change, my feelings for you.”

Suddenly, Sana’s eyes fluttered open.

“What do you mean, Dahyunnie? What feelings?”

A/n: Finally! Finaly! Finally! I am so sorry for the long wait, but it's here now and longer than ever. There were so many beats I wanted to hit before the finale of Part I. I kid you not when I say I rewrote almost every single scene two times or more. This was a really tough one and I hope I delivered it okay. What did you all think? The quest is over! Next time Chaeyoung will finally get her dragon . . . right? Haha.

Anyway, thank you for your patience and support big time!! I felt awful for not posting in January or February. Hopefully, I can get the next chapter out as quickly as possible. I appreciate all of the support, truly. I don't think words can really convey how thankful I am. And to everyone cheering me on as I wrote this, I am eternally grateful. (Once again, special thank you to Una_99 for keeping me sane this entire time. And thank you for listening to me complain an awful lot. I said I'd dedicate this chapter to her, so! This chapter is dedicated to Una_99 lol)

Until next time, cheers!

P.S. We're nowhere near the end-end ;)