No matter what might happen in Joohyun’s personal life, how many distractions or bad weeks that seemed to drag on for years, time still kept its steady pace. The end of the school year was no longer a hazy, distant future. The NEWTs weren’t exactly around the corner, not yet, but they’d definitely become a thought in the minds of even the most absent of students.

Joohyun’s workload felt as though it had doubled, and then tripled. Despite all the studying that seventh-years now had to cram into their schedules, the teachers hadn’t slowed down at all in handing out essays and assignments. Actually, Joohyun began to fear the moment when they finally would, and how dire the situation would have to be for even the likes of Professor Youngbae to feel pity.

Seungwan always had her nose buried in one book or another, now. Sometimes in two at once, in a strategy that she claimed created great synergy but which Joohyun regarded with some skepticism. It was a little suffocating to see her like that, stress permeating her so evidently that Joohyun could swear it was actually visible, tinting her skin with a pale, lifeless hue. But nobody really seemed to notice, not any more than before. Nobody stopped in their tracks, if not in concern then at least in shock.

Joohyun began to wonder if Seungwan’s struggles didn’t go unnoticed because of any particular effort to conceal them. If maybe people just didn’t want to see some things, unless they were forced to.

She tried not to let herself get too worried as she made her way to the dungeons. It wouldn’t be the first time that they’d planned to meet at the library and she’d ended up having to fish Seungwan out of the Hufflepuff common room, where she’d gotten distracted reading ‘just one more chapter’ of a textbook, or taken half an hour longer than expected to finish an essay.

It was just that this time, there hadn’t been any plans to meet later. They had been supposed to leave their shared class and head to the library together, until Seungwan had remembered some ‘appointment’ that she’d been very vague about and quickly disappeared around a corner.

Joohyun had gotten all of her Potions homework done and still no sign of Seungwan. Finally, she couldn’t keep waiting for her anymore.

It was probably nothing. She would shamelessly enter the Hufflepuff common room, thanks to Seungwan’s steady supply of the latest rhythmic password, and her girlfriend would be inside, cramming some topic that she’d suddenly decided she knew absolutely nothing about and which was sure to cause her to fail an entire exam, or working on some homework she’d found at the bottom of her bag, which she always managed to do right before it was past its due date, like some horribly trivial sixth sense.

Yes, most likely Seungwan was sitting at some desk, quill scratching out her scribbled notes, fingers carding through her hair and inevitably leaving traces of the ink stains that ended up on all ten fingertips no matter what Seungwan was doing or how carefully she was doing it. She was probably focused, off in her own world, maybe biting her lip again, maybe just poking out her tongue as she sometimes did when very deep in concentration. She was fine. Seungwan was just-

Seungwan was not in the common room.

Seungwan was in her dorm room, alone. And most importantly, Seungwan was very much not fine.

“Hey, what- What’s going on?” Joohyun managed, stepping into the room hurriedly to catch up to Seungwan’s pacing.

“Oh, it’s uh, it’s nothing,” Seungwan said, thoroughly unconvincing. Her eyes looked red, although she wasn’t crying. Maybe she had been before, but now she just looked ahead of herself blankly, even as she continued to walk back and forth in the limited space of the room. “It’s just, you know, I’m never going to accomplish anything or have a future outside this school.”

“That’s nothing?” Joohyun could only say, dumbfounded, quickly followed up by, “And that’s- That’s not true! Why are you saying that?”

“Because! I’m- useless! I have no ambition, I have no plans, I can’t even think of- of-”

“Useless? Seungwan, where is this coming from? Did something happen?”

Joohyun had a suspicion already, one that grew when Seungwan suddenly stopped her pacing and froze in place, studying her with eyes that blinked rapidly, as though she might start crying again any minute now.

“Your appointment…” she began, unsure how to proceed, and Seungwan immediately let out a watery sigh.

“It was with the Headmistress.”

“Is something wrong?”

Joohyun didn’t want to think it, couldn’t imagine how it could happen, but could Seungwan be failing a class?

She didn’t think she was, Seungwan was well caught up with the material in all the classes that they shared, but with a reaction like this Joohyun couldn’t imagine what could have happened, short of the Headmistress gently but firmly suggesting that she drop a class or two. Still, Seungwan only shook her head.

“It was a formality. She said she does it with all the students that have expressed an interest in higher studies.” It didn’t seem like a worrying conversation at all, but Seungwan was already chewing on her lower lip as she recalled it. “She wanted to… to make the bid for me to stay at Hogwarts. But to do that she needed to know what I wanted to study, so she’d know what she could offer me.”

“That… I mean, that sounds good, right?”

“It does,” Seungwan said, barely getting the words out around a sob. “It does, but I- My first thought was what my parents have always said, Alchemy, at Beauxbatons. And then my second thought was what you said. You asked me… what did I want to do. You know, in Charms class. And so I wanted to- to be brave, and think for myself, and decide what I wanted. And maybe… pick something else, because I think I’d like to stay at Hogwarts. Even if I’m not stepping out of my comfort zone as much, if I’m not… widening my understanding with different perspectives,” she recited, clearly repeating something she’d heard before.

“That still sounds good,” Joohyun endeavored, growing more uncertain. Was Seungwan second-guessing her decision? Was she worried that rejecting her parents’ choice would ruin her future, or their opinion of her? “Seungwan, what happened? Did the Headmistress say something, or…”

“No! She didn’t say anything. She couldn’t, because I- I- I don’t know! I just don’t know. I tried to think of what classes I like the most, and I can’t, because I’m just so worried all the time. I’m so worried that I won’t keep up, that I won’t understand the material fast enough, that I’m going to forget one stupid piece of homework at the bottom of my stupid bag for one stupid week too long and I just- I don’t know what I want. I can’t find any love or joy in the things that I’m studying because I’m too full of fear and anxiety and deadlines, and I know I want to do this, I want to pick something and keep studying it, and experiment, and advance the field, but I just… I never had a chance to decide what I wanted and I feel like maybe I just don’t know how anymore.”

“Seungwan…”

“I know, I know, it’s not even… It’s a pathetic problem to have, isn’t it?” Seungwan took in another shaky breath. Joohyun wanted to step closer and take her hands, pull her in for a hug, but she knew there was no magical property to her touch, nothing that would make these concerns fade away. “So I just told her I didn’t know. It was embarrassing. She probably expected more from me, even telling her what my parents wanted would have been better than this.”

“Seungwan, listen to me. This is so much braver, and better, than just telling her what your parents want. This is the first step.”

“Off a cliff,” Seungwan muttered thoughtlessly. Joohyun ignored it.

“But what you said about your comfort zone, I mean, this is you stepping out of it. Right? So it’s bound to be a little difficult at first. Especially if it was the first time you thought of it. Choosing for yourself.”

“Well, that’s the thing! It took me my whole life, up until this moment, to do that. To even think of choosing for myself. How is that anything but pathetic?”

Joohyun took in a deep breath, worry gnawing away at her chest. It upset her, how harsh Seungwan was on herself, like she couldn’t ever see how hard she worked, at everything. At school, at being a good friend and a good person. Even now, against everything that had been ingrained in her from birth, at really taking control of her own life. And still she acted like anything short of perfection was a flaw. Her fault, something to be remedied with endless hard work, but which could never really be redeemed.

And Joohyun knew. She knew just how long it could take to imagine life could be anything but what you’d been raised on. Not to find hope, but to even think of searching.

And then she knew what to do. And when she began to speak, to share a secret she had never shared before, not even with Seulgi, she didn’t feel fear, or hesitation. She felt safe. She knew she was, with Seungwan. She knew she’d understand.

“You wanted to know my Patronus memory.”

Seungwan stilled, a step away from Joohyun, clearly thrown by the comment.

“Are you trying to distract me?”

“No. It’s not the main goal, anyway.”

Seungwan hesitated. Joohyun could tell she’d caught her attention, that the curiosity was gnawing at her even in her state.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Seungwan finally settled for, clearly convinced.

“I know. I want to.”

“I…” Seungwan took in a deep breath, preparing herself for the big moment. It was sweet to see her treating this with such care, even after Joohyun had volunteered the information. “What’s your Patronus memory?”

“When I was sixteen,” Joohyun began slowly, with the odd sensation that it wasn’t her saying it, “I got a job. In the summer. A Muggle job, at an ice cream shop the next town over.”

The confusion was clear in Seungwan’s eyes, but she didn’t ask any questions, only waited for Joohyun to go on.

“It was a secret. Seulgi was away for Quidditch camp and I made up a girlfriend, a summer fling, an excuse to go off every day on my own. I was terrified those first few days. I don’t think I ever stopped being a little bit scared, that the Kangs would walk in on me, or that someone would talk to someone… I don’t even know, that my parents themselves would step foot into a Muggle ice cream shop for the first time in their lives and see their daughter in an apron and a silly hat handing out spoons.

“But nobody did. Nobody knows, to this day. And at the end of the summer, I had money. My own money, that I could use for school supplies. Not anything that my parents would notice, like textbooks, but I… I bought new Potions ingredients, more ink and parchment, and said that I still had enough left over from last year, saved my parents a few Sickles. I could tell when they met me with the money, that it… that it mattered. I could tell they were relieved.”

She paused to smile softly to herself. Seungwan was looking at her, fully attentive, and Joohyun almost chuckled at the sight. Here she was talking about counting Sickles to someone who probably had never thought about the price of anything in her life, and there was no shame. No defensiveness. Just warmth, and a relief like a long-drawn breath finally escaping her.

“But that wasn’t all my money. I still had some, coming into Hogwarts. I’d never had… I don’t know, an allowance? Money that I could spend on whatever I wanted. I’m sure my parents would have managed it, if I’d asked, but I could never justify it to myself. Putting that burden on them so I could buy butterbeers or fun stationery.

“Last year, it was finally different. I could buy whatever I wanted, with no guilt. With my own money. I bought potions from Sooyoung, but you didn’t hear it from me,” she quickly added, remembering Seungwan’s Head Girl status. “I bought drinks for my friends at the Lionheart, I bought candy from Sunny’s bitter rival. You, uh, didn’t hear that either,” she added as an afterthought, and Seungwan couldn’t help but laugh.

“That’s my memory,” she said then, her voice lowering despite herself. “The first trip to Hogsmeade, the first bag of candy I’d bought with my own money. I ate it and it tasted better than anything else I’d ever had. No guilt,” she said with a small smile. “That’s when it finally hit me. Not all the hours spent working, or the school supplies I bought. It was the candy, for some reason. That’s when I realized there was a way out. That I wouldn’t spend the rest of my life feeling the way I had been all those years. That I was going to graduate and get a job and pay for all my own things, and I’d never have the fortune back, I’d never live the life that my parents had wanted for me, the life we’d tried to fake for six years, but I’d be free.”

“Free from the lies?” Seungwan asked quietly, as if afraid to interrupt.

“Actually, I don’t think it was the secrecy that made me feel so suffocated. I think it was… the look in their eyes, whenever they saw me. The guilt, the shame, and… There was always something there, this belief that all of it would be worth it if we could pull it off. That they were saving me.” She swallowed, trying to dislodge the knot that was building in . “I always miss them, but some part of me always dreads seeing them, too.”

She shook her head, as if dislodging the memories. She smiled again, trying to reassure Seungwan, worried that she’d gotten too carried away from the light tone she’d been aiming for.

“Anyway, that’s my memory. Freedom, in the form of some hard candy from Dolce Far Niente. I couldn’t work again last summer, because Seulgi stayed home. I think she felt guilty, spending her last ever summer break away from her family. But now I had that memory. That light at the end of the tunnel.”

The feather-light touch of a finger on the back of her hand was quickly replaced by Seungwan’s gentle grip, holding fast. Joohyun looked her way, floundering a little, tripping over her words.

“I don’t know, do you- Does that-” she began stumblingly.

“It took you a long time too,” Seungwan said softly, drawing out the thread that had brought this story to Joohyun’s mind. Joohyun nodded, but that wasn’t it, that wasn’t all of it.

“My parents, I just- I didn’t want to say it. For a really long time, I didn’t want to even think it, but the truth is... I don’t know if it was worth it. What they did. Maybe I would have been happier being poor with them. Being shunned by my fellow Slytherins.” She took in a deep breath and felt Seungwan’s grip tighten against her, steadying her. “Maybe they were wrong. Maybe they tried their best to do right by me, and they just got it wrong. Maybe they’re people who make mistakes, and value some things too much and other things too little, and maybe the only way for me to be happy is to stop following the path they drew out for me and find my own. But that’s...”

“Scary?” Seungwan offered, clearly genuine.

“Scary, yeah. It’s a whole new world. I was so used to going through the motions, even when it made me miserable, that it was paralyzing to even consider anything else. But we have to, don’t we? We have to try.”

For a moment, Seungwan watched her silently. Her eyes wandered across Joohyun’s face, like she was searching for some hidden answer there, for some source of courage to carry her through.

“What if…” she finally tried, hesitant, wavering. “What if we can’t? What if we try and we just can’t? What if I was never meant to do it, to forge my own path, what if I’m just…”

“A Hufflepuff?”

Seungwan’s gaze, holding Joohyun’s for only a beat before she dropped it to her feet, was answer enough.

“You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“I know it’s stupid. It’s like you said, it’s just a House, not… a death sentence. But I just wonder. I can’t help it. I just wonder what it meant. Why the Hat didn’t even think of Slytherin.”

Joohyun pulled Seungwan a bit closer, trying to catch her eye as the girl continued to study her own shoes. She reached for her other hand and held them both between them, a lifeline that she hoped comforted Seungwan as much as it did herself.

“Do you think it would help? If you could get that answer. Do you think it would help you deal with all this?”

“I don’t know. I mean, does it matter? How could I possibly get that answer?”

“But do you think it would help?”

“Shouldn’t you be telling me to let it go? To… accept what I can’t change and look to the future instead of the past?”

“Maybe. But instead I’m asking if you think it would help.”

“Why?”

Joohyun pulled Seungwan in even closer, until she was whispering. She felt a smile take over her face, and she couldn’t tell if she was excited or just going mad.

“Because if it would, then I think I know who we might ask.” She quirked a brow. “And I know where it is, too.”

“It?”

“Well, yes. Only one person can tell you why you got sorted into Hufflepuff. And it’s not a person.”

“Joohyun…”

“It’s a hat.”

“Joohyun-”

“It’s the Sorting Hat. We’re going to ask the Sorting Hat.”

Seungwan looked into Joohyun’s eyes, uncertainty warring with what Joohyun had known would be there as well: a need to know so deep that it overpowered all her instincts to follow the rules and avoid trouble.

She would do this for Seungwan. Sneak into the Headmistress’s Office and ask the source of the trouble itself.

For once, the two of them wouldn’t be reasonable, they wouldn’t accept the hand that they’d been dealt, they wouldn’t sit back and shrug at the random injustices of life. This was one answer they could get, and Joohyun would be damned if she wouldn’t try her best to get it for Seungwan.

“It’s a mad idea. It could go so wrong. There really is no justification-”

“You’re not saying no,” Joohyun pointed out smugly.

“No,” Seungwan admitted with a sigh. The uncertainty faded away. “I’m not.”