For a moment, the silence was deafening. Joohyun steeled herself against the pity, against the sad compassion sure to shine in Seungwan’s eyes, at the realization of just how pathetic she was. How pathetic her whole life had been.

“You’re those Baes!” Seungwan exclaimed instead, catching Joohyun so utterly by surprise that she nearly choked on air. Then the girl froze, her eyes grew impossibly wide and her hands flew to . “That was a terrible thing to say. I don’t know why I said that-”

“No, it was… unexpected,” Joohyun replied frankly. The corners of her lips tugged up into a smile, her eyes somehow drying up.

“Still, it was completely- My parents gossip. That’s not an excuse-”

“Unexpected is good.”

Joohyun’s smile widened, amused at the girl’s panic.

“Good? Alright, good. Good.” Seungwan took a deep breath, almost forgetting Joohyun for a second, then turned back to her. “I’m, uh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It isn’t your fault. It isn’t anyone’s fault, I guess. Just unlucky.”

Seungwan nodded, her face grave. It wasn’t as bad as Joohyun had thought. The compassion was there, but it wasn’t the grating pity she’d expected. It just felt like somebody knew what she was going through, and they wished she wasn’t going through it. It felt like a relief.

“So Seulgi’s your cousin? And you live with her and Yerim?” Joohyun nodded. “Do you ever see your parents?”

“Sometimes. They visit to bring the money for my school expenses. Textbooks, ingredients. Ball gowns,” she added with an eyeroll. She must never miss a ball, they’d said. People might talk. “All brand new, of course. One must keep up appearances.

“They always get the money. They won’t tell me how, so I can only imagine, but they always do. They won’t meet me without it. I think that they expect me to be ashamed of them or… resentful over what happened. Like they’ve let me down.”

“Are you?” Seungwan asked quietly, and Joohyun could imagine herself bristling at the question, seeing it as nothing more than accusation, but there was nothing. No anger. No insecurity.

“I just wish I could see them more.”

Seungwan's arm brushed against hers once more as their fingers touched, and then there was a warm hand settling over Joohyun’s, fingers intertwining with hers.

It felt nice. Comforting.

“That's why, isn’t it?” Seungwan’s voice rose to break the silence, but the question wasn’t what Joohyun had expected. She’d been preparing for something more conventional: did she miss them, where did they live, how had her aunt treated her. This was a bit harder, but at the same time she knew it was the question at the centre of it all. “Why you hated me.”

Joohyun had stepped into Hogwarts, eleven years old, her parents’ warnings repeating in her head again and again like a broken record. It had felt like anything could expose her secret. Robes that were too short, proof that she couldn’t afford a new pair that year. Taking notes on the back of her parchment instead of using a fresh roll, every single scratched-out word an accusation.

She’d grown into it, the fears easing with time, but the beginning had been terrible. Even a hair out of place, a spot on her face, a stain on her clothes, were enough to bring the cold grip of panic climbing up because people would know and her parents would be so disappointed, when they were doing all this for her sake.

And then there was Seungwan. A pureblood, a Hufflepuff, the top of their class. The girl who’d once spent an entire day with her robe on backwards and had only laughed when she’d realized it, the barest shadow of self-consciousness brushing past her and fading away.

“You were me,” Joohyun whispered, feeling silly even as she said it, but Seungwan didn’t question it. “You were what I was pretending to be. Rich and successful and so… You always looked so happy. So carefree.”

Her fingers itched to curl into fists, but the weight of Seungwan’s hand on hers kept them still, kept them gentle.

“You were what I could have been, if things had been different,” she concluded weakly, not proud of herself. “And whenever I saw you, it reminded me of how unfair everything was. And I just kept thinking that if I had what you had, I’d enjoy it more. I’d do it right, not like you, I’d do it… better." She wasn’t even sure what she meant by that. Whether it had ever made sense. “I suppose I was jealous.”

Seungwan took it all in stride, not once intervening to defend herself, to challenge Joohyun’s words. Then again, she was a clever girl. She must have understood the situation from the moment Joohyun made her confession. She was only hearing what she’d already pieced together.

Joohyun would have preferred an argument, she realized as Seungwan kept her silence. She felt like she might speak forever, if nobody stopped her. After so long of keeping it bottled up inside, it all threatened to push to the surface, to come pouring out of her in an endless flood.

She forced shut, ignoring the way the sudden quiet made her feel horribly exposed.

“So what changed?” Seungwan eventually asked. It seemed like another redundant question, one for which she already had the answer, but anything would be better than the silence, so Joohyun was happy to play along.

“That night, in the kitchens.”

“When you got me drunk,” Seungwan said with a grimace of embarrassment. Joohyun chuckled at the sight.

“Before that. The moment I saw you, maybe.” The words sent a little jolt of surprise through Seungwan, one that would have gone unnoticed if her fingers hadn’t twitched over Joohyun’s. “You didn’t look happy, then. To be quite honest, you looked a step away from a nervous breakdown.”

Seungwan laughed, apparently not offended, and Joohyun carried on. “And the more we spoke, the more I realized that you were keeping your own secrets, struggling with your own problems. The perfect, carefree Seungwan was as much a performance as the perfect, carefree Joohyun. It all seemed a little ridiculous then, that fantasy I’d built of how happy I’d have been if only things had been different. Maybe I simply would have been unhappy in an entirely different way.”

The tapping of Seungwan’s fingers on her hand returned, but it seemed more controlled now, intentional rather than by reflex. Joohyun thought of how roughly she’d offered her help back then, how stubbornly she’d refused to give any explanation. It had felt so difficult to reason, to process. She hadn’t wanted to think about it. And Seungwan had allowed it all, given her that space, maybe from fear, but now that Joohyun knew her better… Definitely from kindness. From selflessness. From an unwillingness to demand anything that wasn’t easily given.

“Maybe I realized we were more alike than different, and I felt some duty to help you. Maybe I saw I misjudged you and I felt guilty for how I’d treated you. Maybe I thought that, if I could help you with your problems, then it meant that somebody could help me with mine. I don’t know.” She shrugged, feeling how entirely true the words were. She didn’t know. Not then, and not now. She’d just wanted to, needed to help somehow.

“You realized I was a person and you felt bad for me?” Seungwan offered, mirroring the words she’d spoken to her that night. Joohyun was surprised she even remembered such a detail, given how drunk she’d been, how much had happened since then. Then Seungwan paused, brows furrowing in displeasure. “That sounds a lot more ridiculous when you’re sober, doesn’t it?”

Both girls couldn’t help but laugh at the comment, everything else forgotten for a moment. Joohyun paused to catch her breath and almost felt dizzy at the realization of what she’d just done. She’d told Seungwan everything, her carefully kept secret, her greatest shame. She’d told her and everything was the same. They sat in her favourite balcony, the whole world in front of them, and laughed. They just laughed.

It was an entirely new feeling. It made her laugh more, because some part of her was growing giddy, relief crashing through her life a wave. Her own amusement was contagious and soon Seungwan was carried away as well and they were doubling over, taking in wheezing breaths, fighting off tears at the corners of their eyes.

When they finally calmed down, Joohyun’s sides were in stitches. She gripped them, still smiling as she tried to control her breathing, and let out one final laugh. By her side, Seungwan did the same, wiping away the last tear and rubbing at the flush that had filled her cheeks.

Their hands, which had come apart, met in the middle and folded together once more as the last of their laughter died out.

“I’m sorry I pushed you to tell me,” Seungwan said quietly, suddenly avoiding her eyes.

“You didn’t push,” Joohyun pointed out, voice just as soft. “You were worried. It’s what you do,” she added, and it hurt a bit to recall what Seungwan had said to her in their argument, but she hoped it came across as acceptance rather than recrimination.

“Still, if I'd known that it was this...”

“How could you?” This time she was the one to squeeze Seungwan’s fingers. She sighed, only growing more ashamed of her past actions as she reflected on them. “You did nothing wrong. I was the one who acted unreasonably. You deserved an explanation, but I just didn’t want to say it. I...” Her fingers gripped a little tighter as she swallowed drily. “I’ve never told anyone.”

Seungwan didn’t turn to her, keeping her reaction subdued, but her surprise was evident. “Never?”

“I couldn’t trust a Slytherin with that information, and people like Sunmi and Hyuna? I love them, but they wouldn’t understand. It isn’t their world.”

Seungwan didn’t ask any questions, didn’t need any more information. She only nodded. For half-bloods and Muggleborns, everything was different, closer to the modern Muggle world, but Purebloods seemed to have become stuck in time, frozen in the past century. For people on the outside, escaping that world seemed like the simplest thing, but the perspective from the inside was starkly different.

Seungwan understood. She lived in that world too, that world where image mattered far more than substance. Where reputation could make or break you. She didn’t try to pretend that Joohyun’s secret meant nothing, affected nothing, because she understood.

The Quidditch Pitch erupted in a violent celebration, all the tiny dots in the stands moving furiously. It seemed that the game was finally over. Joohyun wondered if they should leave, go back downstairs to greet the others as they returned, before Seulgi could grow too worried at their absence.

Just as she opened to suggest it, she felt a weight gently settle on her shoulder. She turned to find Seungwan’s head resting against her, eyelids lowered as her sleepless night caught up with her.

Maybe they could stay up here a little longer.

“Joohyun?” a surprisingly alert voice asked. She’d expected Seungwan to be off to sleep by now. “Are we okay now? You’re not… mad at me anymore?”

“I wasn’t mad at you,” she answered simply. Seungwan didn’t reply immediately, apparently stumped by the information.

“You weren’t?”

“No. I was just… hurt.”

Seungwan’s head lifted off Joohyun’s shoulder, turning to face her in surprise, and suddenly coming much closer than she’d been before.

“Hurt?” she asked, almost incredulous.

“Well, yes.” Joohyun began to feel uncomfortable again. She realized it had been childish, but was it really so strange to be hurt? “You didn’t trust me. I know it was unfair of me to expect it, but still. I thought we were friends and it hurt that you didn’t, that you needed an explanation. That you couldn’t just trust me.”

Seungwan was still gazing at her, so close that Joohyun could have counted her eyelashes. She gazed steadily into her eyes as if processing something she hadn’t expected, then looked down as she bit her lip.

“I didn’t realize,” she said in a whisper, finally shifting back and giving Joohyun the room to breathe again.

“What?”

Seungwan shrugged, settling back into her sitting position and once more avoiding her gaze. “That you cared.”

“Oh,” Joohyun said quietly, looking off towards the crowd making its way to the castle. She wasn’t offended, or upset. She knew Seungwan too well for that. She knew that she hadn’t been judgmental, hadn’t been blaming her. She just genuinely hadn’t considered it. Hadn’t imagined that Joohyun could care enough about her to be hurt.

Seungwan shifted, and for a moment Joohyun feared that she’d get up, make the suggestion that she herself had been about to make a few minutes earlier, so she acted without second thoughts. She tugged on the hand she was holding, tilted her neck to the side and waited.

Eventually, Seungwan accepted the offer, leaning against her once more. So they could stay a bit longer, breathe in the cold air that reached the top of the tower, let the silence and solitude protect them. Not have to worry about who would see them, and what they would see.

Maybe that was what Joohyun loved so much about this balcony. Up here, she was just Joohyun. All the weight of expectation, of lying and pretending, could be forgotten for as long as she could hide. And now Seungwan could have this gift too. This pocket of anonymity.

“What did you smell?” a drowsy voice interrupted her thoughts, surprising her. She’d expected Seungwan to be asleep already.

“The Amortentia?” she asked, mostly to buy herself some time. Seungwan nodded against her shoulder. “It was home. Before it was sold. It just smelled like home.”

The gentle squeeze of her hand was welcomed, the pressure reassuring. “And the other smell?” Seungwan carried on, innocently curious.

“Fabric softener. Muggles use it when they wash their clothes. It smells lovely.”

Seungwan hummed softly. “That sounds nice,” she mumbled dreamily.

Joohyun hesitated, threading their fingers together. Should she just let Seungwan sleep? But now she was curious as well, and she’d already exposed her own so…

“What about you? If it isn’t too personal. What does Amortentia smell like to you?”

Another hum, slower and more drawn out. The girl seemed to be falling asleep as she spoke. “The Hufflepuff common room... The sea...”

“The sea?” Joohyun spoke soothingly, encouraging Seungwan as she drifted off.

“We spent a summer in Italy, by the coast. I had tutoring during the day, but at night I went walking along the beach.” Seungwan sighed, deeply, as though inhaling the salty tang of the ocean. “The sea always smelled so fresh, so free.”

“And the third smell?”

A pause. Joohyun wondered if she’d lost Seungwan, and the last scent would remain a mystery.

“I’m not sure.”

“Not sure?”

“Last year it was the Quidditch Pitch after games. You know, the trampled grass and the stands and… all the excitement and cheering, seeing my friends fly around. It’s nice.”

Joohyun nodded along, although Seungwan couldn’t see it. She watched the now empty stands and remembered how Seulgi had said that Seungwan never missed a game. It was nice to know that she actually enjoyed it.

“But when I smelled it today, it was like it was different. More… flowery.”

“Flowery?” Joohyun echoed, and Seungwan hummed faintly.

“Like a field of flowers.”

Joohyun smiled, looking off into the distance. “Maybe your tastes are changing,” she quipped, vaguely wondering what they could be changing to.

She took in a slow breath, then another, watching as the last few stragglers entered the castle. The whole world was now empty, aside from the two of them.

No answer came from her companion. She twisted her head carefully, and found that she was fast asleep.

(…)

“You’re giving me whiplash.”

“Really?” Joohyun sighed. Hyuna and Sunmi seemed to be taking turns to annoy her and she was running out of patience for her friends’ antics.

“You’re enemies, you’re friends, you’re enemies, you’re friends… Nobody can keep up!”

“Clearly you can,” she pointed out drily at the quite accurate summary, distracting herself with another sip of butterbeer.

They sat at the Lionheart, taking advantage of the most recent Hogsmeade weekend. Most students had been surprised at another so soon after the last one, but it was true that everyone would be busy with end-of-term work in the coming weeks, so Joohyun supposed that the administration had tried to give them as many opportunities to relax as possible, while they still could.

She wouldn’t question it. It was the perfect chance to come visit Sunny and ask how her parents had been. Or it would be, if she ever got the privacy to go talk to her.

“For now!” Hyuna cried out, really doubling down on the dramatics.

This was getting ridiculous.

“You and Hyojong broke up and got back together five times. I’m not sure you have the moral high ground to be speaking about whiplash.”

“Young love is turbulent.”

“You’re turbulent,” Joohyun muttered as she rolled her eyes. She returned her attention to her butterbeer, her only source of comfort in these trying times.

“Anyway, where is she? I figured you’d want to celebrate the end of the feud,” Sunmi cut in curiously, before her eyebrows furrowed and she leaned forward. “Unless… you’re not actually friends again? And you’re just pretending to get the spotlight off of you?”

For a moment, Joohyun genuinely couldn’t tell whether she was serious. Then she snorted, breaking the facade, and laughed out something about how Joohyun was too easy to fool.

“You two are idiots with too much free time. And Seungwan is with Seulgi, doing some Hufflepuff activity. Thinking of which, shouldn’t you be with them?”

The mask of amusement froze, then fell as Sunmi grimaced. “Ugh, I forgot about that.”

“Hufflepuffs have too many team activities,” Hyuna commented absently, pulling out a pocket mirror to study her reflection.

“So do Gryffindors,” Joohyun replied lightly, watching as Sunmi flew to her feet and out the door. She brought a finger to her lips and tapped them as if caught by a sudden thought. “No, wait, that’s just detention.”

Hyuna huffed but didn’t respond to the provocation, too busy following the line of her mascara.

“Hello? Are you just going to watch yourself for the rest of the afternoon?”

“It’s the best thing to look at in here,” Hyuna quipped instantly, snapping the mirror shut. “But no. I’m seeing Hyojong. You’ll be fine on your own?”

“I think I’ll manage.”

“Alright, then. See you back at Hogwarts. And Joohyun?”

“Yes?”

“Please try not to break up with Seungwan while we’re gone. It’s getting tiring to keep track.”

“You’re a child,” Joohyun threw at her friend’s retreating back, watching her leave with a sigh. Why did she even spend time with those two?

Relaxing in her seat, she took a few more swigs of her butterbeer and watched the pub, trying to catch a glimpse of colourful hair. Although the place was fairly full, maybe she could catch Sunny in a moment of relative peace, or come to the bar and quickly catch up with her there.

“Joohyun,” an unpleasantly familiar voice called.

She turned back to face her own table, reluctance slowing her movements. In front of her sat an unexpected but equally unwelcome visitor, draped over her chair more than seated on it, dark blue of her Ravenclaw tie bringing out the perfect black of her hair.

“Sooyoung,” Joohyun greeted in a monotone.

“Waiting for someone?” the girl asked with a tilt of her head that seemed to somehow exude smugness.

“For you to leave?” Joohyun offered. Sooyoung snorted.

“Come on, how could I miss this opportunity? My favourite customer, sitting all alone, just waiting for me to try to win her back.”

“I’m just trying to finish my drink in peace.”

She raised her mug for emphasis, taking another drink and hoping, just a little, that when she’d set it down her table would once again be vacant.

“Joohyun.”

No such luck. The Ravenclaw remained, hands now clasped in front of her as she took on the professional attitude with which she always discussed her business.

“What?”

“What if I told you that I could sweeten the deal?” Joohyun didn’t react. She considered, for a moment, simply getting up and moving to another table. “Remember the seventh-year discount on Wideye Potions? Doubled. Just for you. Right here, right now. Take it or leave it.”

“I think I’ll leave it.”

“Fine.” Sooyoung’s hands separated and her fingers tapped rapidly on the table. “Fine, then. Maybe some other time.”

“Probably not,” Joohyun replied, but Sooyoung didn’t seem to hear her. The ease with which she dropped the subject was slightly concerning, but Joohyun tried to remain positive.

“So, now that business is out of the way, how are you? How is everything going?” the girl inquired, her friendly smile so convincing that Joohyun almost believed for a second that they were actually on friendly terms.

“How am I?” she eventually questioned, more confused than anything.

“Yes, how’s life? How are, uh, classes, and do you, you know, have any plans for the end of the term?” Sooyoung’s eyes darted around the room before she threw another smile, this one a bit less confident. “Like, say, for the Spring Ball.”

“The- Are you asking me to the Spring Ball?”

Joohyun wasn’t too pleased at the possibility, but it would be a relief to at least understand what the girl was doing.

“No, no, no, not at all.” Well, no need to deny so vehemently. “I was just wondering if it would be… the usual plans. The plans you usually make for Balls.”

“I’m confused,” Joohyun finally admitted. Sooyoung sighed impatiently.

“Who are you taking to the Ball?” she asked curtly.

“Why do you want to know that?”

Sooyoung paused for a moment, as if weighing her options. Then she shrugged nonchalantly. “Because. Just, uh, because. Just curious.”

“Alright. Stay curious, then.”

Joohyun picked up her mug and took a slow drink. To be honest, she was enjoying teasing Sooyoung like this, although she began to have an idea of why the girl was interested.

Sooyoung crossed her arms, but she couldn’t let the silence last very long. “Are you taking Seulgi?”

Joohyun took her time finishing the drink.

“Probably. It is my usual plan.” Sooyoung slumped in her chair, looking vaguely displeased, and Joohyun bit back a smirk. “Why? Were you expecting something different?”

“I don’t know, you could take Seungwan or something.”

“Seungwan is already going as Head Girl. Why would I take her?”

Sooyoung shrugged sullenly. “Well, she told me you two are friends again, and apparently you love bringing your friends to Balls and taking them off the market even though you’re not even interested,” she muttered faster and lower as she went, ending the sentence as a barely-audible grumble.

“Yes, well,” Joohyun began a little awkwardly, “I’m not. I’m taking Seulgi.”

“Alright, alright, I heard you the first time.” Sooyoung abruptly got up from her seat, returning to her business-like posture. “So, if I can’t convince you to come back into business, I suppose I should be going. People to see, places to go, you understand.”

Joohyun blinked wordlessly at her, watching as the girl turned to leave without another word. That Sooyoung was a strange one.

Taking Seungwan to the Spring Ball. What a ridiculous notion.