The first time Guanlin sees Jihoon is when he’s about to be Sorted. The students in the hall are watching him – that nervous first-year on that tiny stool in the middle of the Great Hall – but their gazes and whispers are reduced to a mere blur. He’s nervous. There is one student, though – seated at the table with the silver-green banner – who suddenly catches his eye. He gives off the air of a prince, somehow, the way his brown hair casually falls into his eyes; the way he carefully studies Guanlin from the other end of the hall. Guanlin’s breath catches for a moment, before the Sorting Hat is pulled over his head and obscures his vision.

Hmm, what do we have here, says a small yet clear voice in his ear. A smart boy, yes. Curious, too.

The image of the boy at the silver-green table floats in his mind.

Slytherin? the hat says, hmm, sure, you have ambition… a desire to prove yourself… but you wouldn’t do well there. Besides, wanting to be Sorted there just because of a boy isn’t a very Slytherin thing to do, now, is it…

Guanlin’s mouth falls open. This hat can read his mind. He’s just thankful the voice stays inside his head and isn’t for everyone in the hall to hear.

You’d do well in Gryffindor too with your guts, but no, I know where to put you…. RAVENCLAW!

The hat is lifted from his head as applause breaks out. In a daze, Guanlin walks towards the table where the cheers are the loudest. His new housemates clap him on the shoulder as they all enthusiastically introduce themselves at once. Guanlin grins, feeling welcomed. This is the family he’ll spend his next seven years with. When he finally sits down, he sneaks a glance at the Slytherin table. The other boy is already focussed on the new student that is about to be Sorted, looking imperious and beautiful.

That is how Guanlin falls in love.

 

 

Guanlin adjusts to Hogwarts quickly. He absorbs everything with the curiosity of a first-year: making the large hallways and secret passages his own; getting acquainted with the portraits that greet him morning and night; doing his best to keep up with his homework. Though he likes all classes, Charms is his favourite. He thinks the spells are magical in the Muggle sense of the word: beautiful, otherworldly. He never quite wishes to stop learning.

They have Potions with Slytherin today. The guy next to him is stirring his cauldron with great attention. He seems experienced, though Guanlin doesn’t know if it’s real know-how or if he’s just putting on a show. The Slytherin catches him staring and Guanlin quickly nods by way of greeting. People have told him he can look intimidating at first glance – though all he really wants to do is make friends.

“Do you need help?” the guy asks, barely glancing up from his cauldron. The first stage of potion-making always requires a great deal of attention.

“No, I’m good,” Guanlin replies. He doesn’t know if he is, but he wants to get this right on his own. He’s pretty sure the guy wouldn’t offer advice anyway, them being from different Houses. “You seem experienced, is all.”

“I’ve been brewing potions since a young age, I come from a wizarding family.” The guy finally turns his attention towards him as his potion has apparently been deemed safe and looks him up and down. Then he says, in a matter-of-fact way: “You’re good-looking.”

“Eh, thanks,” Guanlin says. “You too, I mean, you seem nice.”

“Don’t return compliments unless you mean them,” the guy replies briskly, “but if you did: thanks. Anyway, I’m Lee Daehwi.” He holds out his hand.

Guanlin blinks at this rapid turn of events but then enthusiastically accepts. “Lai Guanlin.” He’s never met someone his age so confident and straightforward. He decides he likes it. They start talking about their backgrounds (Daehwi grew up in the States but has been signed up for Hogwarts since birth, as both his parents are alumni); their favourite classes (Daehwi insists he’ll die some day during flying lessons, even though Guanlin insists it’s really, really fun) and everything else they can think of.

“So, what is the Slytherin dorm like?” Guanlin asks, naturally curious once someone has initiated the conversation.

“It’s down in the dungeons,” Daehwi says, “and a lot cosier than that sounds. Although, if it does seem intimidating, then I suppose our strategy has worked.”

Guanlin grins. “You Slytherins are something else. The Ravenclaw common room is really awesome, too. Wish I could show you, but I’d probably get evicted.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty strict about that,” Daehwi says, “fortunately inter-House friendships are encouraged these days, though. So, from this day on you’ll be my Ravenclaw friend.”

Guanlin grins and accepts with a small bow. Then, inevitably the image of a certain boy floats into his mind. “What about the older Slytherins?” he semi-casually asks, “there’s that guy I’ve been seeing around who seems really popular…”

“Oh, you mean Park Jihoon,” Daehwi says. “Yeah, he’s like the school’s golden boy. Pureblood, wealthy family, handsome. Talented too, if you’d actually believe it.”

Park Jihoon. Guanlin files the name away; tastes the structure on his tongue.

 

 

From that moment on Guanlin is on the lookout for Jihoon – no longer a nameless student, but a crush with a name. He spots him in the hallways, surrounded by his rowdy Housemates. He spots him over at breakfast, where he’s usually one of the last to appear – just like Guanlin himself – and in the courtyard during sunny days. Sometimes he hears snippets about him from Daehwi, when they meet up outside of class. Guanlin tries to be subtle about his infatuation, but the look Daehwi gives him whenever the Park Jihoon topic comes up indicates that he is fully aware and is merely humouring him. It’s like Jihoon becomes a little realer ever time. He’s like the stars in the Scotland night sky: bright, beautiful, completely out of reach.

 

First year turns into second year and Guanlin becomes more self-assured (doesn’t get lost in the castle as often; manages to turn in his homework on time; even makes some more friends).

Staring at Park Jihoon has become a habit by now, like putting on his robes in the morning and helping himself to double servings of porridge. He’s so used to it that he doesn’t even realise when Jihoon speaks to him for the very first time – one bleary, uneventful November afternoon.

He’d been taking a shortcut to his Charms class because he’d been running late – courtesy of his very warm bed and the very tasty cinnamon rolls they served at breakfast – when suddenly another figure appears around the corner. They both stop dead in their tracks in order to avoid crashing into one another. Guanlin sees the flash of green and silver from the other student’s tie, and one glance is enough to confirm what he already suspects, because he could recognise those features anywhere. Could probably recognise Jihoon just by his nose, his hair.

He blinks a few times as Jihoon stands across from him, absorbing the fact that he’s this close to his crush. In a shadowy hallway, somewhere on the third floor, with no other students around. After a few seconds Guanlin’s brain kindly informs him that Jihoon’s mouth is moving, a.k.a. the other guy must be talking to him, and just then he registers the words: “Eh, I said, could I get past you, please?”

Guanlin blinks and only then realises he’s blocking the narrow passageway. “Oh, sure,” he stammers, finally remembering how to speak. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Jihoon says. He looks surprisingly timid when he’s all on his own. It probably doesn’t help that Guanlin is being an idiot and Jihoon doesn’t know how to react to that. In fact, Jihoon is still staring at him, like he’s waiting for something.

His brain helpfully reminds him that he has yet to step aside, and so he hastily does. “Sorry,” he says, “again.”

Jihoon just smiles, thankfully appearing amused by the situation, and then quickly walks past him. Guanlin stays rooted on the spot for a whole ten seconds, his nerves unwinding. Right. That went well.

 

 

After that memorable incident no more interactions happen, though Guanlin swears Jihoon will sometimes catch his eye, before quickly turning away.

“It’s probably because you’re staring at him like some stalker,” Daehwi points out when he brings it up.

“True,” Guanlin agrees gravely.

“Plus, there’s the fact that you’re like a giant even though you’re only second-year. Not exactly hard to miss.”

“Also true,” Guanlin says, less gravely and more cheerfully. “Can’t help that the rest of you stay behind so much.”

“Oi, some of us have other priorities than becoming a supermodel. Though actually, that might be nice,” Daehwi sniffs. “Anyway, when are you finally going to talk to the love of your life? Something other than ‘move out of the way, please.’”

“It has to happen naturally. I mean, I can’t just go up to him…”

“Actually, you can. People do that, you know.”

“But he’s usually surrounded by many people. He has a lot of friends.”

“Actually, he’s pretty introverted,” Daehwi points out, “he’s usually minding his own business in the Common Room. It’s just that people love being around him, because they’re infatuated like you.”

“Right. You’re in the same House as him…” Guanlin says, ignoring the last bit.

“Correct, oh intelligent Ravenclaw,” Daehwi says, flaunting his scarf, “we share the same great House.”

“So you could – “

“I’m not going to introduce you,” Daehwi interjects.

Guanlin ponders that for a while. Then he says, seemingly casual: “Say, weren’t you having trouble with Charms? You know, professor Banning thinks I’m somewhat of a natural…”

His friend sighs. It’s grades before principles with Slytherins, Guanlin knows that much. “Well played,” Daehwi says. “Fine, I’ll mention you to Jihoon. Only casually testing the waters, you know.”

Guanlin grins. “That’s all I need.”

 

“Hey Jihoon.”

Jihoon looks up from his Astrology homework to see Lee Daehwi approach him. It’s pretty crowded in the Slytherin Common Room, and the second-year has to dodge several people before he finally comes to a halt in front of him. Jihoon is seated in his favourite spot near the fireplace. The warmth of the fire and the comfy green armchair almost make it bearable doing homework.

“Hey Daehwi,” he responds with mild surprise. They don’t talk much – Jihoon doesn’t have a lot of contact with people from other years, is all – but at this point he welcomes any distraction. He can only write about stars for so long before he’ll figuratively see stars himself.

He glances at the book that the younger boy is holding. Magical Creatures of China.

“Interesting book you’re reading,” Jihoon says, “didn’t know second-years were already taught that kind of stuff.”

“It’s not for class,” Daehwi says, like he was waiting for Jihoon to bring it up. “I have this friend who’s from Taiwan, see, he moved to England only recently. I’m just trying to get to know something about his background.”

“That’s nice,” Jihoon says, suppressing a yawn. Darn all that homework on Orion. He had to power through, though, if he wanted to maintain his good grades. Just one of those unspoken family rules he has to abide to. (Iron your robes, smile at your teachers, stay out of trouble, maintain straight A’s or you can say good-bye to that Ministry post in the future).

“Actually,” Daehwi says casually, “you might know my friend? Ravenclaw, dark hair, way too tall to be a second-year.”

Jihoon blinks. He does know that guy – or kind of wants to, in any case. He swears that he can often feel the other boy staring at him. That isn’t an unusual occurrence for him, exactly – but most looks and gazes fade into the background. It’s just static noise. Not this guy, though. He’s got the kind of face that stands out in the crowd.

“Oh, I think I do,” Jihoon says casually. “What’s his name?”

“Guanlin,” Daehwi says. “Actually, I think he’s a bit of a fan. He mentions you quite often.”

Jihoon feels the tip of his ears turn red, but schools his face when he replies: “Oh, yeah?” Bless his mum for making him take acting lessons since he was seven.

“Yeah. It might be nice if you two could talk some time. He’s a nice guy, don’t be intimated by the fact that he looks be a pro basketball player. Or a model. Anyway, I will let you get to your homework now. It was nice chatting with you, bye!” And with that Daehwi briskly walks away, like he has accomplished some kind of task. Jihoon blinks. To say he feels confused would be an understatement.

After a minute of staring into the fire (the flames really are kind of hypnotising) Jihoon remembers he has homework to do. Right. He dutifully redirect his eyes to his paper in front of him. His mind is on anything but Orion, though. So, this mysterious, handsome guy has been talking about him. It makes his chest feel warm. It’s annoying, but it’s also kind of nice. He twirls his pen in-between his fingers. He supposes he could say hi some time. That’d be no big deal. Right?

 

 

The next time that Guanlin sees Jihoon at breakfast, the other boy smiles at him. Guanlin almost drops his croissant in surprise, but then smiles back unsurely. The rest of breakfast plays out as follows: Jihoon chats with his fellow Slytherins, Guanlin does the same with his Housemates, and in-between mouthfuls of pastries he sneaks glances across the hall. Jihoon catches him once more and he raises an eyebrow, as if to say: “Back at your staring game?” Guanlin shrugs with a smile. It’s not like he can (or wants to) deny at this point. Jihoon turns away, but Guanlin can see that the corners of his mouth are turned up.

The magical ceiling above their heads shows grey clouds – but Guanlin feels as though the sun just broke out in full force.

The process is repeated over the next few weeks. It’s smiles and glances at breakfast, in the hallways and any other time they bump into each other. They soon start exchanging greetings and are finally properly introduced to each other. (“I’m Park Jihoon,” Jihoon says, as if Guanlin hasn’t know that since day one. “Yeah, I know,” Guanlin says truthfully and Jihoon’s lips twist in amusement).

The hallway greetings turn into small talk, which turns into longer conversations, until finally they become, maybe, sort of friends.

“Very awkward friends,” Daehwi claims, “I swear, I can’t be alone with you two, it makes my toes curl.”

“We’re not awkward at all,” Guanlin defends, even though he still sort of feels like dying every time Jihoon smiles at him, which is often nowadays. He thinks he does a good job in hiding it, though. Maybe.

To be fair, it can be hard to read Jihoon, who’s known to put on an aloof air. Guanlin at first fears it’s because Jihoon has already grown bored of him, but he soon realises the blank face is simply a symptom of shyness or social awkwardness. It endears him that much more to the other guy.

And as it turns out, they actually have quite a lot in common. Like their love for sleeping (early morning classes should be a criminal offence, they both agree), food (Jihoon eats more than him, which is surprising), music (their playlists are instantly swapped) and cute animals (Jihoon has puppies at home, the only non-magical creatures in his family mansion).

Jihoon introduces him to some of his friends, such as Woojin, his fellow fourth-year Slytherin. The guy seems timid at first, but when he smiles his snaggletooth appears and Guanlin is reminded of Animagi, where things are not what they appear to be.

There is also Kang Daniel, captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Guanlin feels a little intimidated shaking his hand, until Daniel smiles and the puppies in Jihoon’s pictures come to mind. Okay, not intimidating at all.

“How did Slytherin’s poster boy become friends with the Gryffindor captain?” Guanlin asks somewhat bemused.

Jihoon ducks his head, appearing shy but pleased with that description, and then says, “Well, there was some kind of rivalry back in the day. But it was more because of other people who expected us to be like that.”

“Until we actually started talking and we discovered we get along well,” Daniel continues, showing his dimply smile. “To be fair, I always liked Jihoonie. How could you say no to that face?”

Jihoon pulls up his scarf to hide his shy smile – or his smirk, Guanlin doesn’t know. Either way, he looks impossibly cute. How indeed could you say no to that face? Guanlin looks between the two friends and wonders if he has (yet another) rival.

They’re left alone some time later, when Daniel heads off to Quidditch training. Guanlin watches him go, his broad shoulders evident even in his black school robes. Guanlin has always liked himself a challenge in life – but he’s not sure if he would have picked this particular challenge. He looks sideways at Jihoon.

“You and Daniel seem close,” Guanlin starts.

Jihoon hums in agreement, not particularly listening. His mind is probably wondering what’s for lunch. Or it’s stressing out about his Transfiguration assignment, which is due today. Or he’s thinking about a certain Quidditch captain. Well. It’s better to just rip off the bandage in one go rather than delay his suffering, right?

“So,” Guanlin continues with a healthy dose of reluctance, “do you like him?”

Jihoon raises an eyebrow. “Of course I do. What’s this sudden inquisition about?”

“Nothing. Just. He seems to really like you too,” Guanlin says. It sounds way more morose than intended, but then again: he’s always been one to wear his heart on his sleeve.

Jihoon observes him for a moment. When he replies, he seems to have caught on, choosing his words carefully: “No, it’s not like that. We’re just friends. Daniel hands out a lot of compliments because he’s a nice person, I guess.”

“Oh.” Guanlin probably shouldn’t look so happy, but he can’t exactly be bothered to hide it.

 

 

They don’t see each other much on weekdays, being from different years and Houses, but they hang out whenever they can. Gradually they grow closer. And instead of getting used to Jihoon, like one might expect, Guanlin is even more charmed with every little thing he discovers (such as the fact that Jihoon likes the colour pink and is sort of really addicted to games). Like his good friend Lee Daehwi once said: he’s a hopeless case.

 

 

Just like that the second year ends and the third year starts. Guanlin feels a bit of a senior now, looking at the awkward first-years. He somewhat nostalgically recalls his first days at Hogwarts.

“Doesn’t it feel good that we’re like scary seniors now,” Daehwi says, looking fondly at a group of cowering first-years.

“You’re not scary,” Guanlin says, amused. “Besides, I saw you giving them a pep talk moments before. And some candy.”

“Ssh, you’re endangering my Slytherin reputation,” Daehwi hushes, “but yes, I can’t help it, they’re just too adorable.”

Guanlin smirks, before he sees a familiar figure approaching. “Oh, it’s Jihoon. Gotta go.”

“You’re always dropping me for him,” Daehwi complains. “And anyway, when are you finally going to make that move?”

“I don’t know, all right,” Guanlin whines. “It takes time.” The truth is: he doesn’t know when the right time will be. He doesn’t want to risk their friendship, for one thing. Even so, he’s been dropping hints left and right. It’s rather hard not to when he feels like the literal heart-eye emoticon whenever he lays eyes on Jihoon. So he’ll often comment that Jihoon looks nice, or that he’s happy to see him, or he’ll even offer him his last precious chocolate bar. Jihoon usually doesn’t respond much (except to the food, that one is always accepted gratefully) but Guanlin reckons that is just part of his chic Slytherin style. If Jihoon doesn’t like it, he wouldn’t continue to hang out with him.

“Hey,” Jihoon greets as he reaches Daehwi and Guanlin in their corner of the courtyard.

“Hey,” Guanlin smiles. He takes in the sight of his dishevelled hair, the red cheeks and his sparkling eyes. It’s evident that Jihoon has been outside for a while. Maybe to enjoy the beautiful autumn leaves. He’s a closet romanticist like that. (Never say that out loud, though). “You look nice today.”

Jihoon ducks his head while Daehwi coughs loudly. “Thanks,” Jihoon says, regaining his composure, “so do you.” Daehwi coughs even louder at that, which they take as their cue to leave.

“How are classes?” Guanlin asks. It’s a fine autumn day. The castle looks beautiful against a backdrop of orange trees. It’s not his preferred season (he loves summer, with bright skies and campfires and basketball games until the sun sets) but he still can appreciate the beauty of fall. Maybe it’s because of the person walking next to him. He should become a poet.

“Good,” Jihoon replies. “Well, actually, they’re a bit of a pain, but I’ll manage. You?”

“It’s definitely tougher than last year, but a lot more interesting too. We’re learning this stuff about projection charms in Transfiguration, it’s really fascinating.”

Jihoon shakes his head and laughs. “You’re such a Ravenclaw.”

They approach a group of girls near the lake, all of whom seem to be excited for some reason. They giggle and nudge each other – a type of girlish language Guanlin has yet to decipher. When he looks over at them, a brunette from Ravenclaw squeaks: “Guanlin!”

Guanlin waves at her awkwardly, not quite knowing how to handle female attention. Up until this point he’s been mostly oblivious, but lately he has noticed an increase in admiring looks. It’s flattering, but it’s also weird. Besides, it’s not like he’s actually interested in any of them. Not that he can quite say that out loud.

“Seems like you’ve gathered quite the following,” Jihoon comments when they’ve left the group of giggling girls behind.

“Aah, it’s embarrassing,” Guanlin says.

“Well, you’ve become even taller over the summer,” Jihoon says, “plus you’re getting more handsome. It’s quite annoying, actually.”

“Why is it annoying?” Guanlin says, feeling confused as to why Jihoon of all people would be concerned with someone else’s looks.

“Never mind,” Jihoon says, and then sighs dramatically, “Aah, I’m hungry. Let’s go find something to eat.”

“Lunch is not until an hour,” Guanlin remarks.

“That’s why I’m friends with the kitchen house elves,” Jihoon says. “First alliance you need to make at Hogwarts. Come on, let’s see if they can spare us something good.”

Guanlin grins, impressed as ever. “I’m so glad I became friends with you.”

 

 

Weekends mean Quidditch games. Hufflepuff is playing Gryffindor this Saturday, which leaves Guanlin sitting with his Slytherin squad, as he jokingly refers to his friends. None of their Houses are involved, which means they can cheer on whomever they like.

“Go Kang Daniel!” Guanlin shouts, as the Gryffindor captain scores another point. He’s been on fire this game. The red supporter section across them erupts with cheers and Guanlin is pretty sure he can hear a (fake?) lion mascot roaring. Daniel fist pumps the air.

“Hufflepuff should win this actually, looking at the chart,” Jihoon comments, even though he, too, is clapping for his friend.

“Since when do you care about sports?” Guanlin jests good-naturedly.

“I do when it’s a competition,” Jihoon comments, looking mildly offended. “I like the tactical aspect.”

“You just like the players,” Woojin says dryly. Jihoon flounders for a moment, before fixing his friend a firm stare. “What?” Woojin mumbles, appearing undeterred, “I see you ogling Daniel when he gets changed.”

“Well, it’s his fault for being so well-built,” Jihoon huffs, as though the world has done him a great disservice by making his friend hot. Guanlin frowns while the two palls next to him continue to squabble. Lingering feelings of jealousy and insecurity resurface.

He stares at Jihoon’s hand. It’s small, and it’s cute, like everything about Jihoon. (But Guanlin also knows it could land a good punch if he wanted to: the two sides of Jihoon). He acts on instinct when he reaches out and grabs it. Jihoon turns around and blinks in surprise – but doesn’t move his hand away. His facial expression is neutral. Guanlin is pretty sure he can detect a faint blush, though.

“Anyway, let’s just enjoy the game,” Jihoon comments as he clears his throat, putting the argument with Woojin to a rest. Their hands are still intertwined. Guanlin doesn’t even care about the outcome of the game anymore – he’s the real winner here.

 

 

Guanlin decides it’s time to ask for some advice. And so he approaches the smartest person he knows: Hwang Minhyun, Ravenclaw Head Boy. Guanlin usually keeps a respectable distance between the two of them. Not because he doesn’t like him, on the contrary, but because Minhyun is known to detract points for uncleanliness – even from his own House. And, well, Guanlin isn’t exactly one to keep things tidy at all times. He’d rather sleep in than clean up his room. Even so, Minhyun has been doting on him since he first sat down at the Ravenclaw table post-Sorting, wide-eyed and in a daze. Guanlin trusts the Head Boy’s life advice on this one.

“Minhyun, how do you tell your friend you are in love with them?”

“Is this about Jihoon?” Minhyun says, closing the book he’d been reading, and Guanlin isn’t even surprised. Minhyun always knows stuff like this. He’s like Ravenclaw’s very own counsellor. “Have a seat,” he says kindly, patting the one next to him.

Guanlin slouches down on the comfy armchair. Minhyun shoots him a sympathetic smile. The fact that he doesn’t tell him off about his bad seating manners, speaks volumes about the fondness he feels for his junior.

“It is that bad, huh?”

“Nah,” Guanlin says, optimistic by default, even though he kind of really feels like being pitiful for once. “It’s just… we’ve been good friends for a while now, and I don’t want to ruin that, you know?”

“I understand,” Minhyun says patiently. “But do you know what the thing about life is? You never know until you try. It’s cliché, but it’s true. You’ll regret the things you haven’t done, rather than the things you have. You’ll never be content, anyway, until you’ve been honest with Jihoon, won’t you?”

“True,” Guanlin says. He often has to refrain himself from confessing on the spot. Looking at Jihoon’s face does that to you. Hardly fair, but then again, Guanlin is the last person to complain.

“I think you’ll be fine,” Minhyun concludes. “And you know why? Because beneath those Ravenclaw robes, I think there’s quite some Gryffindor in there as well. You’ll find the courage to confess.”

“The Sorting Hat did say something about Gryffindor, actually,” Guanlin grins, fondly recalling those early Hogwarts memories. “Do you think Jihoon will accept?”

“That’s for you to find out,” Minhyun says, “but from what I have seen, he seems to be very fond of you… and he isn’t usually one to take a liking to people like that. Take that as encouragement.”

Guanlin feels himself smiling despite himself. It’s both because of the implication that Jihoon likes him and because of the heartfelt advice. Being away from his family, he sometimes misses conversations like these. It’s nice to interact with someone who feels like an older brother.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely. “I think I do have the courage to confess now.”

“Good luck Guanlinie,” Minhyun replies, squeezing his shoulder encouragingly. “Oh, but before you go… could you please collect your stuff? Your school books have been lying in the Common Room for days now.”

Guanlin grins. Minhyun is counsellor and housekeeper alike.

 

As Christmas approaches, so does the traditional Hogsmeade visit. Guanlin decides the time has come to finally take action. What better venue to confess that a snowy Hogsmeade? He might be more of a realist himself, but Jihoon truly is the exception to his rule. The grand finale to his years of pining deserves a romantic setting, anyway.

And so he brings up the question after dinner one day. Guanlin reckons it’s best to go with the casual approach. “Hogsmeade visit is in a few weeks, isn’t it? Do you want to go together?”

“I’m usually going with some friends, but sure, you can join,” Jihoon says. His gaze is on a group of Gryffindors playing a game of Exploding Snap near them. The castle is getting rowdier as the holidays approach. He glances over at Guanlin. “I’m sure my friends won’t mind a Ravenclaw intruder,” he adds, jokingly.

Guanlin laughs. It’s more nerves than anything else. But honestly, Jihoon has always been funny. “No, I meant like, going together. The two of us.”

Jihoon stares at him. Then he blinks in rapid succession. “Aah.”

It’s the only thing he says. Guanlin doesn’t know if it’s a bad aah or a neutral aah or maybe (hopefully) a good aah. He wills his face to remain calm, even though he can’t help his fingers from twitching nervously.

“Okay, I’ll… uhm… ask my friends if it’s all right to go without them,” Jihoon finally says. “I mean. I’m sure it will be. But I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

They stare at each other. Jihoon rubs his neck, like he always does when he feels shy or embarrassed. Well. That was that.

 

 

It’s dark when Jihoon heads to the library. He isn’t usually one to be out and about after hours, being the good student that he is, but Guanlin said he’d be studying for his exams.

Together. Just the two of us. Recalling those words makes Jihoon’s heart flip in a traitorous way. Guanlin does stupid things to him, like the urge to stare aimlessly at his handsome face and risk curfew just to give him an answer to his Hogsmeade question.

Truthfully, he could have said yes on the spot because there’s no way he doesn’t want to go with Guanlin – but he needed some time to think things through. Guanlin makes him nervous, see. It is kind of annoying. It’s also kind of exciting.

When he enters the library, it doesn’t take long to find Guanlin. A mop of black hair bend over a large book on magical history. Jihoon stands there for a while, not sure how to announce his presence. He feels the strange urge to sit next to Guanlin and help him study. Jihoon never feels the urge to study.

He finally clears his throat and Guanlin looks up, as though he’d unconsciously been waiting for that signal. “Jihoon!” he greets with a grin.

Jihoon smiles back, sort of nervously. It’s harder to control his face when it’s just the two of them. There isn’t any reason to school his face right now, per se, except that it feels scary not to. Like everything about him is just out in the open. He needs to have at least the illusion of control.

“So….” Jihoon begins, casual if you like, “I asked my friends. They said it was no problem to go without them.” It sounds like a business announcement.

“Okay, great!” Guanlin says. He seems like he’s waiting for more.

Jihoon looks away and wills himself to continue. “What I meant to say is… I’d really like for us to visit Hogsmeade. Together.” He can feel his ears turn red and is grateful for the library’s relative darkness.

Guanlin’s grin turns ecstatic at this. “Great. Now come help me with this paper,” he says, inviting him to sit down as he pets the chair next to him.

“Is this a package deal?” he asks sceptically. “Accompany you to Hogsmeade and help you out with your magical history paper?”

“Maybe,” Guanlin says, still grinning. “Or I just want you to sit next to me.”

Jihoon puffs up his cheeks in a gesture that is supposed to convey annoyance, but maybe also to look cute. “Well, all right, I don’t have anything else to do right now anyway.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t want to,” Guanlin singsongs, seeing right through him like always. Realising that further resistance is futile, Jihoon takes the seat next to him. Together they take a look at the chapter Guanlin is supposed to study. Jihoon still remembers some of the stuff from two years ago. Strange: goblin conventions never seemed this interesting before. Sitting in a dimly lit library next to Lai Guanlin changes everything, apparently.

Whipped he can hear someone whisper in his mind, in a voice that sounds suspiciously like Woojin’s. He doesn’t even feel the need to correct it.

 

 

It’s snowing when they finally set off to Hogsmeade. The magical village looks just like a Christmas card. It’s the first time Guanlin is allowed to visit the place (being only a third-year) and he looks around in wonder. It’s a bit like laying eyes on Hogwarts for the first time. Except this time Jihoon is standing next to him – and that makes the experience that much better.

“Look around, newbie.” Jihoon smiles at him. “I’ll be your guide today.”

“Thanks very much,” Guanlin grins. “Then take me someplace warm, Mr. Guide, because it’s freezing out here.”

In true Park Jihoon style, their first stop is Honeydukes. The shop is packed with students and the amount of sugar in the shop only adds to the high tension. Guanlin isn’t much of a sweettooth himself. The opposite is true, however, for his friend. Date? Whatever.

“Don’t judge,” Jihoon says, as he carries more candy to the cash register than a person could eat in a month. Guanlin merely grins and adds some chocolate to the pile.

After that they visit several other shops, from Zonko’s Joke Shop to the local Quidditch merch store. Guanlin isn’t quite sure yet which team to support, being fairly new to the game, but Jihoon convinces him he absolutely must back the Falmouth Falcons. He makes some pretty solid arguments (pretty funny, for a guy who loathes physical exercise) and so Guanlin leaves the shop with a Falcons jersey. If only to match with Jihoon.

At last they take a break from shopping at the Three Broomsticks. They secure a table for two and order a butter beer each. The inn feels warm and cosy after the cold outside. Guanlin hasn’t felt this content in a while. When their drinks arrive, they make a toast.

“To our Hogsmeade visit,” Jihoon declares.

Guanlin almost wants to follow up with “To us,” but fortunately his brain decides that sounds way too wedding-like. Instead he says: “To the Falmouth Falcons and that they may stop losing this season.” Jihoon solemnly puts his hand over his heart and then grins approvingly.

“I had fun today,” Jihoon says. “It wasn’t a bad idea to ditch my friends for you.”

Guanlin grins. “Maybe we can make it a tradition.”

“Maybe.” Jihoon looks around the crowded café. “So, why the Three Broomsticks? You didn’t fancy taking me to Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop?”

Guanlin chokes on his butterbeer. That place is pretty much synonymous with the word ‘date’.

“Too pink,” he merely says.

“I like pink,” Jihoon replies. When Guanlin flounders for a moment, Jihoon grins at him and says: “Don’t worry. I like it here too.”

 

 

After a wonderful time at the café (and maybe a few too much butterbeers) they slowly walk back to the castle. The snow crunches underneath their feet. The winter air is quiet and still. Guanlin glances to his right. Jihoon isn’t wearing any gloves. Stubborn. He instinctively reaches out, and Jihoon lets him.

“Your hand is cold,” Guanlin says.

“Well, yeah,” Jihoon replies with a laugh, “it’s winter.” He’s shivering while he says it.

“Here,” Guanlin says, and puts both their hands in his coat’s pocket. Jihoon’s lips part like they want to say something – but then they just turn upwards in a timid smile. They walk back the entire road like that. Every now and then they steal glances at each other. They both can’t fight the resulting smiles. Guanlin feels the urge to wrap his arms around Jihoon, to protect him – even though he knows Jihoon doesn’t really need protection. (Maybe it’s he who needs protection, and Jihoon is providing it just by being next to him).

“I’m really glad we became friends,” Guanlin says. Jihoon is so close. He doesn’t want to ever let go.

“I’m glad too,” Jihoon replies.

“I really mean it,” he says. They both stop in their tracks. Jihoon looks so pretty in the soft winter light. There are snowflakes in his hair. And Guanlin’s heart? It’s overflowing with things that have been left unsaid for too long.

Jihoon looks at him. His expression is somewhat unreadable. Guanlin awaits with bated breath what Jihoon will say next. Somehow the moment feels important. Like they both know it has come to this. Whatever this is.

“You know…” Jihoon starts. He clears his throat. “Back when we didn’t know each other yet... I kind of got this feeling from you. Like you had a crush on me. Is that correct?”

Guanlin looks at him in surprise. This is not exactly what he’d expected Jihoon to say. But then he shrugs and replies truthfully: “Yes.” How could he not?

Jihoon nods to himself, a smile on his lips. “You’re not very good at hiding things.”

“True,” Guanlin agrees. Then he thinks for a moment and adds: “But also not entirely true.”

Jihoon looks at him questioningly. His cheeks are rosy from the cold. Guanlin is reminded of cherubs and ripe apples in the fall. He wishes to reach out.

Well. It’s now or never, isn’t it? “What you said. Like I had a crush on you. That shouldn’t be past tense,” Guanlin explains. There’s a faint smile on his face.

Jihoon blinks rapidly. It’s what he always does when he needs to process. Guanlin would think cute if he weren’t so darn nervous.

“You mean….”

“Yeah.”

They look at each other for what feels like a long time. Then Jihoon demands: “Say it to me.” It’s all the encouragement Guanlin needs.

“I really like you,” Guanlin says. “I’ve liked you since the moment I saw you, during my Sorting. I have a crush on you. Not past tense. Present tense. And future tense, because I’m pretty sure I’ll always have a crush on you.”

Jihoon slowly nods to himself. He seems a little overwhelmed with that confession, but also satisfied. “Wow,” he says.

“Yeah.”

“And good,” he adds. “Because I might also have a crush on you.”

Guanlin’s eyes widen. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Jihoon says. There’s a shy smile on his lips.

“Might have?” Guanlin continues, teasingly.

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Fine. I definitely have a crush on you.”

Guanlin grins, satisfied. He reaches out to gently remove some snow from Jihoon’s coat. It’s like all his restrains are gone now. Space seems like a thing that definitely shouldn’t exist between them. He rests both his hands on Jihoon’s shoulders.

“You look really pretty right now,” Guanlin says.

“Is this going to be a thing?” Jihoon says with an arched eyebrow. Guanlin notices he doesn’t move away.

“What, you mean me complimenting you? Or touching you?”

“Both.”

Guanlin moves a little closer still. They’re standing toe-to-toe now. “Do you object?”

Jihoon purses his lips. Guanlin stares at his mouth. Has it always been this pretty? He can’t seem to look away – even when the pout changes into a grin as Jihoon replies: “I’ll allow it.”

“How about kissing you?” Guanlin says, feeling equally dazed as brave. “Can I also do that?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t,” Jihoon says, only half-jokingly – and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

And so Lai Guanlin kisses Park Jihoon right there, in the snow, with the trees as their only witness. It’s a little bit clumsy and a little bit awkward and a whole lot of magical. It’s been three years since Guanlin fell in love with Jihoon. He feels like it’s only the beginning of their story.