The day had been bright and cloudless, not quite hot enough to be unpleasant, but with a touch of warmth that gave students hope that they’d soon be changing out of their winter robes and into lighter uniforms. The night that followed was a gentle kind of cold, no longer the brittle frost of winter that drove all living things to sleep and shelter.

The night sky was impossibly clear. Far from even the smallest city, at the top of the Astronomy Tower, not a hint of light pollution hid away the full splendour of the stars and constellations dotting the dome above them. The Milky Way stretched overhead like a mountain range, like a mirror world that one could fly out to, filled with brilliant star-people and the most fantastical sights.

Joohyun felt even more dazzled than usual. Head resting on her palm, she gazed mindlessly, silent as the room around her chatted away before the class began. Only Seulgi was forced into silence by her quiet company, but she seemed entertained enough copying Joohyun’s notes from the past week.

She already knew about Joohyun and Seungwan. Thankfully, she hadn’t been quite as obnoxious about the renewed friendship as Hyuna and Sunmi.

Well, that was a bit unfair. She’d teased a bit, sure, but mostly she’d just been happy. Happy for Joohyun, that she’d found someone else on whom to lean, with whom to share her deepest secret. She hoped it would make things a bit easier. She hoped it meant they were done with fighting for good. Joohyun hoped so too.

As the hour for the class arrived, Seungwan stumbled into the room, dishevelled and out of breath, pulling up the slipping sleeve of her robe. She dropped into her seat right as Professor Mihye stepped in from her office, and Joohyun raised her free hand in a quiet greeting that the Hufflepuff returned as she fished for her notes.

Things weren’t quite back to how they’d been before their argument. Joohyun was tired of people snooping into their business, being more interested in the two girls than in their own lives, and for once she wanted prying eyes away from them. She wanted no pressure, no expectations, no gossip. Just the two of them, able to breathe freely.

And so, in public, they were civil. Their momentary disagreement had been overcome and they were polite, friendly even, but certainly not attached at the hip. No more sitting together in classes or at the library, no more visiting each other’s common room to study by the cosy fireplace. But Seungwan knew, and they didn’t have to be together every waking moment to know that they were friends. This way, they had privacy. This way, their friendship was just for themselves.

“Dearest students,” Mihye began, in a particularly amiable mood, and Joohyun finally dragged her attention away from the sky overhead. “I’m sure you all recall last term’s group work. Now, you all followed the exercise to the letter.” She paused, raised her eyebrows as she threw a knowing glance at the class. “But I didn’t feel the spirit of communication in the work you handed in.”

A slight murmur travelled across the room, quieting only when Mihye raised her palm soothingly. “Don’t worry, I won’t penalize you for it. But I do want to try this again. Maybe if I change things up, encourage the exchange a bit more.”

This time there was no murmur, but the students began twisting their heads to one side and the other, trading concerned looks.

“We’ll work in pairs, but not the usual pairs. Why don’t you pick a new partner from the groups of four you had last time? I have the lists on my desk, in case anyone has forgotten who they worked with.”

Some students perked up at the news, others slouched in their chairs or exchanged sorrowful looks with their usual partners. Seulgi and Heeyeon straightened up, searching each other excitedly as soon as the Professor was finished talking.

“So, the four of us again!” Heeyeon exclaimed happily once she’d walked over to them. Seungwan lagged a few steps behind as she struggled with her bag. “What will it be, then?”

Joohyun looked between the three girls around her, waiting for the situation to unfold. She hoped for Seungwan, of course, since she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d had a conversation with Heeyeon, but she supposed a single class with the excitable Gryffindor wouldn’t be the end of the world either.

“Heeyeon?” Seulgi offered, tilting her head towards the table the girls had just left.

“Oh, we’re splitting up the Hufflepuffs?” Heeyeon returned, seeming surprised. Seungwan still stood behind her, and she offered Joohyun a shy smile as they waited for the others to make the call.

“I already spend enough of my time with this one,” Seulgi joked, sending a wink in Seungwan’s direction.

“Alright, then! Fine by me. Are you two happy with the split?”

Heeyeon looked between Joohyun and Seungwan, not appearing the least bit apprehensive. Joohyun wasn’t sure whether she was confident they’d recovered from their disagreement or she simply hadn’t been aware they’d had one at all. Heeyeon wasn’t the most observant individual.

They both nodded, then Seungwan settled into Seulgi’s seat as the other two walked off. Joohyun organized her things, laying out the textbook, class assignment, notes and writing materials in the space in front of her.

She finally looked up to find Seungwan gazing at her carefully organized workspace with a slight grin. When she caught her eye, the grin grew into a teasing smile. Joohyun couldn’t even muster up annoyance, and only smiled in return, the action feeling almost conspiratorial.

Without a word, they studied the work ahead of them and planned the steps to take. Joohyun moved to the telescope and focused on the first of the constellations to be charted. She ran her eyes lovingly over each star, all so familiar by now.

A practiced hand jotted down numbers and annotations, her mind drifting far away from the repetitive work.

Constellations were such interesting concepts. Collections of stars as distant as could be, some nearer to Earth, some farther. Lines drawn between worlds, pictures whose meaning imbued them with magical power, that would stop making sense if one moved so much as a single degree in any direction.

If the Earth were to spring across the Solar System, to vault off into the distance, all the perfectly-connected dots, the mapping of noise into meaning, would be scrambled beyond recognition. It would go back to being noise, for as long as it took for another human mind to gaze up and find patterns. New figures, modern heroes, would appear as clear as night and day.

“What’s your favourite constellation?”

Seungwan looked up from where she’d been copying Joohyun’s observations to her own notebook and caught her eye just as it left the eyepiece. She didn’t seem startled, only surprised by the question.

“My favourite?”

“Well, yes.”

“Based on what? The individual stars?” she joked, apparently amused.

“Never mind, then,” Joohyun grumbled, returning her attention to the measurements. She felt a bit silly for having asked, until a hand settled over her arm and Seungwan was pulling her back, offering a conciliatory smile.

“I don’t think I have a favourite. I never thought of them like that.”

Joohyun was ready to drop it, go back to work and move on, but Seungwan’s smile seemed a silent encouragement so she settled back in her chair.

“But you know what they mean, right? You’ve wondered why Orion is Orion, why Andromeda is Andromeda?”

“Because they look like them? If you squint a little, at least,” Seungwan added dubiously.

“But isn’t that so interesting? To think that the Ancient Greeks looked up at the sky and couldn’t bear to see it empty, that they filled every corner of it with objects and characters and creatures.” She sighed, gazed out through the invisible ceiling. “Don’t you think we’d do the same, if we were given a blank template? Find two lines and a square and call it an Abraxan.”

Seungwan remained silent, but when Joohyun turned back to her, she found that she was smiling, also studying the stars overhead.

“So how did you pick a favourite?”

“Well… Maybe it’s easier if I show you.”

She gestured Seungwan closer, quickly focused the telescope then gave up her seat to let the girl look through. With a practiced incantation, she drew lines gathering the stars into constellations in front of Seungwan’s eyes.

“See that? That’s Hercules.” They weren’t at the best time of the year to see it, but their magical telescopes worked around that problem, showing a clear view of the stars even below the line of the horizon. “I’m sure you know him.”

“Son of Zeus, big Greek hero?”

“That’s him.” She tapped the telescope, which adjusted itself neatly to the next target. “And close by is Cygnus, the swan. And that little constellation in the middle...” She tapped it again, pictured the few faded stars and that single bright one in the end. “That’s Lyra.”

“The lyre?”

“Yes.”

Seungwan studied it for a moment longer, then drew back to face her. “And that’s your favourite?”

Joohyun nodded, suddenly shy, but Seungwan’s eyes glinted with curiosity, urging her on.

“It’s a lyre made by Hermes and given by Apollo to his son, Orpheus. He was a musician so wonderful that when he played, everything around him would be charmed by his music. Not just people, but animals, plants, even streams and rocks. With the lyre made by the gods, he could play so well that he even charmed his way into the world of the dead before his time, and captivated Hades himself with his music.

“When he died, the lyre was thrown into a river, but Zeus had it retrieved and placed in the heavens.” She sighed, carried away by her own words. “There are many myths around Cygnus, but one is that Orpheus was turned into a swan after his death, and placed next to his lyre in the sky.

“It’s my favourite because...” She paused, rummaged in her mind for the words to properly explain it. “Well, putting something up there in the sky, it was a great honour. They put gods and heroes, the protagonists of all the great myths. But they also put that lyre. Orpheus wasn’t a fighter, a changer of worlds, he was just a musician. But he’s up there too, because that’s how much that mattered. Singing, moving people, telling stories.”

Seungwan was still gazing at her, eyes glittering, and Joohyun could only hope that she understood what she meant, that she saw the beauty in the stars now. She looked down, suddenly overwhelmed by the eye contact, and pulled her notes closer.

“You’re a much better Astronomy partner than Seulgi,” she joked, still looking down. “She never indulges my rants about constellations anymore.”

That seemed to snap Seungwan out of her reverie and she laughed a little as she looked around the room, suddenly shy.

“Well, the good news is that you might not get Seulgi back,” Seungwan replied lightly.

She pointed towards the table behind them and Joohyun turned to find Seulgi and Heeyeon sitting closely together, laughing silently at something that one of them had just said. She doubted they were doing much work, but she was glad that Seulgi was enjoying herself and, honestly, she and Seungwan had also gotten a bit distracted from their measurements.

“I guess we’re stuck together,” she quipped, then fell silent. The words had sounded a bit awkward as soon as she’d said them, reminding her of the conditions she’d set for them. “Do you want to? I know I said we shouldn’t attract attention, but I wouldn’t force that on you. If you want-”

“I understand,” Seungwan said simply, a small smile pulling at her lips. She leaned a little closer and lowered her voice, as if sharing a secret. “And I feel the same way. It can be a little suffocating, lately. Like everybody is waiting for us to argue, to fall out again. Like this friendship isn’t allowed to be just ours. I do miss sitting with you in class, and having someone to warn me when Hyuna sets something on fire, but this is better.”

Joohyun laughed, still feeling awkward. Seungwan’s hand was resting on her wrist for support as she spoke and she suddenly felt exposed, like the whole world could see something that she felt wasn’t for the world to see.

“It’s different when it’s just the two of us,” Seungwan went on, flashing a shy smile at Joohyun which she could only nervously return. “I like it better.”

(…)

Seungwan was right. It was different when it was just them, away from everyone else. Even if they weren't doing anything, only studying in silence. It was easier, more comfortable. Joohyun liked it better too.

It was worth not sitting together in class, even if Joohyun missed being able to turn to Seungwan for any little comment or joke. It was worth studying apart, or in the colder, draughtier corners of the library where nobody would think to go, or even up in the balcony of the Northern Tower where the occasional gust of wind threatened to steal away their notes.

It was a strange feeling. With Seungwan, Joohyun felt more exposed than ever. She knew the source of all her worries and insecurities, and while Joohyun had always thought that that knowledge would haunt her, now it only felt freeing. She could almost joke about it.

She did joke, a lot more. Like peeling off the mask at the end of the day, she relaxed into a side of herself she'd always kept hidden, protected. She liked to tease Seungwan, to laugh at her reactions. It was childish, sure, but maybe she was allowed to be a child, just for a while. Just with Seungwan.

Seungwan was special, now. Even if she hadn’t been before, now she was. She’d been shown a side of Joohyun that barely anybody knew, and now she understood, in a way that barely anybody did.

Joohyun wondered if Seungwan herself knew just how special she’d become.

"Quiet!"

"I am being quiet!"

"I've known dragons with lighter footsteps."

Seungwan stopped in her tracks, just long enough to huff and perhaps consider shoving Joohyun in retaliation.

"Your 'whispering' is louder than any of our footsteps," she replied instead, emphasizing the word with sarcasm.

Joohyun fought off the sudden urge to laugh at the ridiculous situation, then leaned closer to Seungwan and tugged her bag free, settling it on her own shoulder.

"There. Lighter steps," she joked, lips quirking in a crooked smile at the momentary exasperation that grew in Seungwan's face.

They made their way up the dungeon steps, trying their best to muffle the sharp clash of heel on polished stone that would surely echo in those winding corridors.

Finally, they reached the last step and turned to each other with victorious grins. Still tiptoeing, they made their way slowly to the Great Hall, right up to the large closed doors that Seungwan pushed open for them to squeeze past.

"So," Joohyun began a little less quietly, safe from echoes in the vastness of the castle grounds, "remind me again just how against the rules this is?"

"Is there a scale?" Seungwan pointed out, more embarrassed than practical.

"Fair enough. And another thing." She stood still, waiting for Seungwan to stop and face her. She finally did, impatience shining in her features. Joohyun grinned at the sight. "Am I indulging you by following along with this ridiculous plan? Should I have set my foot down and refused to leave the castle just because you can't remember whether you watered your plants today?"

"I'd be thinking about it all night," Seungwan whined, her voice rising slightly in pitch. Joohyun gave in easily and dropped the teasing for a moment.

"Alright, final question." She could see Seungwan begin to protest before she'd even stopped talking, so she raised her palm in silent request. She took in a deep, cold breath. "Don't you love it when the world is like this?"

Seungwan barely seemed taken aback by the abrupt change of subject. "Like what?"

"Empty. Like we're the only people in it. Like it's ours to do with it as we please."

"Joohyun, every minute that we stay out here is-"

"Don't you?"

Seungwan relented with a sigh, a small smile peeking through the mask of impatience and nerves. "I do."

Joohyun grinned widely in return, spreading her arms out to let the breeze run through her. She took in one breath after the other, relishing just how alive everything was.

"What do you want to do with it?" Seungwan asked in a low voice. She stood still, face half-obscured in the darkness as she watched Joohyun.

"I want…" She dragged out the word, wondering what Seungwan's face would show, if she could see it. Suddenly, the vast emptiness felt dizzying, the freedom paralyzing.

"I want to go water your plants," she finished cheerfully, sprinting past Seungwan on her way to the greenhouse.

The Hufflepuff was quick to follow her, and every time Joohyun turned back, she saw her outline bathed in moonlight, her short hair swinging with each step, the strands glowing silver in the stark light.

She felt breathless, not just from running.

She remembered once she'd been travelling with Seulgi and her family across Ireland. They'd reached the ocean, bordered not by beaches but by tall, imposing cliffs. Joohyun hadn't dared come close to the edge, staying several steps away with the young Yerim.

She'd watched as Seulgi stepped ever closer to the nothingness that awaited her on the other side, felt her heart jump into as the girl said something to her parents and, amid laughter, removed her shoes and socks, her outer coat.

She'd seen her aunt wave her wand and whisper protective words that had barely reassured her uncle. Then Seulgi had sprinted forward. Forward, into the abyss. And as Joohyun watched her shape lift, lose all contact with the ground, then gradually disappear over the edge of the cliff, she'd felt a powerful vertigo, as if the entire world were spinning around her, as if gravity itself had shifted to pull Seulgi away.

Joohyun was reminded of that vertigo now, as she sprinted through the empty night. For a moment, it was as if she was the one jumping, watching the horizon rise up to meet her.

And then she was standing by the greenhouse, Seungwan gasping at her side, and the world was still.

Without a word, she turned to unlock the greenhouse door with a flick of her wand. The smell of plants grew thicker as the door swung open, making the already fragrant night feel even more alive.

A sudden glint of light illuminated the darkness, and as Seungwan passed by her and onwards toward the end of the room, Joohyun realized she had lit her wand and hurried to do the same. She lagged behind, letting her eyes sweep over the strange flowers and bushes she hadn't seen since her OWLs. Potted mandrakes, fluxweed and sneezewort, even the old venomous tentacula, looking as menacing as ever in its secluded corner.

"How are they?" she called out, already picking up on the sound of gardening tools.

"Oh, they're uh, fine," Seungwan replied, a bit flustered. Joohyun turned to find the girl frozen in the act of t a particularly delicate-looking bush. "I just thought, since I'm already here…"

Joohyun suppressed a smile and simply waved her on, returning her attention to the flowers in front of her. As Seungwan took care of her plants, Joohyun slowly circled the room, letting her fingers gently brush the leaves and petals of the plants she was sure weren't poisonous to the touch, and warily studying from a distance the remainder.

The mood was almost eery, in the fragrant, leafy darkness that their wands dispersed with a burst of light that made every green greener, and Joohyun would have been lying if she claimed she hadn't been afraid at first, when the first notes of a wordless melody reached her. But the voice was too soft, the refrain too gentle, and she realized after a moment of perplexity that it was only Seungwan humming.

The humming grew to song and she recognized it then, an old lullaby that she'd heard often as a child. She turned to Seungwan and found her smiling, fully absorbed in her task, taking loving care of her plants.

Joohyun thought of Orpheus, of his lyre in the sky. And it might only be a trick of the uneven light, but looking around herself, she found branches and stems stretching out, reaching towards the source of that enchanting sound.

The room didn't seem eery anymore. Like a secret shared only between the two of them, it felt magical.