Baekhyun made his way to the Slytherin table for breakfast, he could feel the few amused glares sent his way at the sight of his swollen and bruised face along with his arm in a sling.

He quickly sat in front of Sehun in their usual spot, slumping down into himself, not wanting to be the centre of attention anymore.

"Sore?" Sehun questioned.

Baekhyun shook his head, picking up some toast for his plate.

"Do you think I'll get stared at all day?" Baekhyun spoke up.

"Well, your face is different colours of black, blue and purple, so possibly." Sehun commented.

Baekhyun let out an annoyed huff as he bit into his toast, his eyes focusing on the owls making their way into the great hall with this weeks mail.

He didn't pay too much attention to it because he rarely got mail since it being just his father back home.

"Baekhyun." Sehun called out.

Baekhyun looked up, surprised at the letter in Sehun's hands addressed for him.

Baekhyun placed his toast down on the plate taking the enveloped letter from Sehun.

Soon realising it was from his father due to the formal handwriting, he took a deep breath as he opened it.

To, Byun Baekhyun,

I got a letter informing me that you were injured during a Quidditch match yesterday.

I just want to know what makes you think you can make these decisions after I made it specifically clear not to play Quidditch anymore.

Baekhyun let out an annoyed huff, cursing at the school for thinking it was alright to tell his dad about what happened at the Quidditch match.

My plans have changed for winter break, you're coming home and we're going to have to talk about this disobedience.

Baekhyun didn't bother to read the rest of the letter, he scrunched it up into a crumpled ball, tossing it on to the table.

"What's wrong?" Sehun asked, slightly concerned.

Baekhyun didn't answer, he soon got up from the table, storming out of the great hall trying his best to hide his frustrated tears.

He quickly made his way into the closest toilets, closing the stall door behind him. He held his head in his hands, trying his best to calm down over the letter, yet his father always had a way of getting him worked up.

He patted his neck for his gold necklace, needing to look at the locket right now, but it wasn't there.

He quickly stood up, checki