Author's note: please don't kill me or Seungri for this chapter. Daesung would be terribly upset if you did. 

I promise something good will happen soon~

Seunghyun stares at him incomprehensibly.

By the time the words finally register and he turns to the side to have a look, the man is gone. Daesung tries to pick him out of the crowd again but is unable to do so despite how much Jiyong must stand out amongst everyone else attending. It could have been someone else but he’s familiar enough with his friend’s face to be fairly certain it had been him. The problem is, if Jiyong is attending, there’s no reason for him himself to be here.

“I thought you said he couldn’t come with you?”

“That is what I was lead to believe.”

Seunghyun sounds as confused as he feels but they don’t have time to dwell on it before the lights dim down and everyone’s attention is called to the podium up front. A short man he recognizes as the current Minister of Magic makes his way up, laughing and nodding as he goes. The front row is reserved for the press, as indicated by the flashes of lights going off everywhere, making the man squint before clearing his throat. It ends up being the most boring speech Daesung has heard in his entire life, even more than his History of Magic class, at least those managed to be mildly interesting every once in a while.

He finds himself thinking back to the current Prime Minister and his speeches and in the end decides they’re not that different. It’s basically a bunch of posturing that makes everyone feel very proud of themselves and yet doesn’t actually mean anything. Politicians will be politicians regardless of magic, apparently, but he keeps these thoughts to himself, remaining quiet and clapping when everyone else does.  Afterwards the reporters are escorted out and they’re moved to a smaller but no less fancy room.

The atmosphere feels much more relaxed there, not as tense or polite, and a couple of people even approach Daesung gracefully. He answers their inquiries as well as he’s able, remembering to bow and keep his hands to himself, despite the warm one still at his back. It turns out his love of Quidditch is a godsend and he spends more than a few minutes in slightly heated discussions about it, much likes his parents do with football, catching glimpses of a soft smile on Seunghyun’s lips every once in a while.

It’s not until they have a moment to themselves again that Daesung turns his head to look at him properly. “You’re doing very well,” predictably, his entire face blushes at the compliment even as he shakes his head slightly. Before the speech he mostly stood there and smiled and even now Seunghyun has to step up whenever someone particularly important walks up to them. Still, at least this part is going alright and he’s actually remembering most of the required manners.  Who knew a social gathering could be more nerve-wracking than rune crafting?

The hand at his back remains and he’s acutely aware of it as he turns his entire body to face the Slytherin. They’re standing too close together, a brush away from being inappropriate, but he doesn’t really care – and cares even less when Seunghyun looks down at him, shy smile at his lips again. Dark brows furrow, a sure sign that he’s considering his words carefully; small lips part open before his eyes shift to somewhere to their left, widening noticeably. Daesung doesn’t get to inquire about what surprised him before an arm’s around his shoulders, shaking him enthusiastically.

“Daesung!” his head abruptly turns, incredulous eyes staring at his Gryffindor friend.  His very loud, very red faced, very obviously drunk Gryffindor friend and, for a moment, staring is all he can do. What’s Seungri doing here? His job isn’t really to cover these types of events and even if it was, the press has already been escorted to the outside. Is he here on his own then? Or maybe accompanying someone else too?

Seungri sways uneasily on his feet, prompting Daesung to turn to the left and steady him firmly with both arms before quickly looking around to see if anyone’s staring at them. This is really not the best place to get drunk at and he’s sure his friend knows that, he’s not an idiot. Private press parties are one thing but this… sighing, the Hufflepuff apologetically looks at Seunghyun but the man shakes his head, seeming just as concerned as he himself is.

“Oh!” Seungri leans over unsteadily despite his friend’s protests, peering up at the Slytherin like he just suddenly realized he’s there. He grins after a second, shoving his fingers against the taller man’s chest.  “Of course he came with you. Have you ki-“ Daesung’s hand covers his mouth immediately, panicked smile coming over his face as he covers what the interviewer was most certainly about to ask with a high-pitched laugh.

The pureblood seems startled but merely shakes his head again, lips turned slightly down. “I suppose Jiyong’s presence here is a mystery no longer,” blinkingly, Daesung looks at him again. What? Does he think they came here together? It’s possible, he supposes, but he has the distinct impression there’s something he’s very clearly missing. “I… suppose I should go find him,” it sounds more like a resigned sigh than an answer. “You should take your friend home.”

An entire wave of apologies rise up in his throat but before the guilt can start eating at him, the older man’s gaze locks onto his own, face immediately shifting from weary to soft, mouth curling into a small smile. It’s so difficult to resist smiling back that Daesung doesn’t even try. After a moment of hesitation, of them just staring at each other, Seunghyun nods to himself, stepping close enough to certainly be considered inappropriate and putting both hands on his shoulders, squeezing tenderly. The Hufflepuff’s cheeks practically burn as he keeps his head down – he remembers reading about forehead kisses in the book, how they’re not an uncommon display of affection but still considered very intimate and for a second he wishes those lips would press against his skin.

“Thank for you for accepting my invitation,” his voice is soft, the low timbre making him shudder and all he wants to do is stay like that, with Seunghyun’s breath brushing across his forehead, even if they’re not making contact. Seungri apparently has other plans, bursting into laughter, and Daesung rolls his eyes before stepping back, making sure neither of them fall down. “Thank you for inviting me,” he replies with a genuine but shy sort of smile. The answer comes in the form of a nod as they separate and the Slytherin turns around to go search for Jiyong.

Daesung watches until he disappears into the crowd before sighing. Honestly, he’s going to kill Seungri. Alright, fine, first he’s getting him home, making him drink some water, make sure he’s got hangover potions and figure out what in Merlin’s name had compelled his friend to get like this but then he’s going to kill him. And maybe tell Youngbae about it too – no one can sound both scolding and concerned and make someone feel like a child stealing the cookies as well as the older Hufflepuff.

Their trek is slow but somehow he manages to stop them from becoming a spectacle, leaving the room as discretely as he can. He’s not apparating and there’s no way he’s trusting Seungri to shout the correct name so the Floo is not an option, either. Seeing no other way they step out into the cold street, somehow managing to squeeze out of that stupid phone booth before he’s signaling the Knight Bus.

It’s actually the first time he’s ridden in it and, if Daesung has any say in it, it’ll be the last. The driver doesn’t seem to be in his right mind, there are talking shrunken heads hanging from the review mirror and when the bus suddenly squeezes between two buildings he almost has a heart attack. In the end he’s just glad Seungri didn’t throw up despite his face being a rather distressing shade of green. Both of them always carry around a bit of normal money on them, being a muggleborn and a half-blood, and while it’ll take longer to get to their destination he decides it’s worth just calling a cab next time.

The nausea must be quite severe because the Gryffindor is quiet the rest of the way home. His next words are sudden, blurted out, and cause Daesung to almost drop him near the coffee table. “He’s stupid,” feeling just a bit alarmed, he carefully lowers Seungri into the couch, trying to remember where the potions are. VI, that loud tornado of a tiny owl, seems to sense his question and flies into the bathroom. He follows, relieved even as his thoughts bring a concerned frown to his face.

Alright, so Seungri could be a bit of a brat at the best of times but he’s never outright mean. His charm works because he’s genuinely sweet and funny and attentive and never malicious, he wouldn’t be able to pull it off otherwise. It may not seem like such a big deal, especially considering how drunk he seems to be, but this is the first time Daesung remembers hearing him call anyone stupid. Not the worst insult in the world, but still distressing. Grabbing a potion for the nausea and a hangover one for tomorrow, he quickly makes his way back, stopping only by the kitchen to grab a glass and the pitcher of water.

The Gryffindor’s still muttering darkly to himself when he comes back but doesn’t protest when the glass of water is shoved into his hands, taking a few sips before he speaks again. “He’s stupid,” brows furrowed, Daesung is about to ask but doesn’t get a chance to before he’s being talked over. “I saw him, you know. With the aide. And the reporter. And that veela,” there hadn’t been a veela at the event, had it? “Thinking he can make me jealous. Well, he can’t!”

Daesung bites his tongue to point out that clearly, he can, whoever ‘he’ is. Briefly, he wishes Youngbae was here, because his housemate had a lot more experience comforting people and always knew what to say. Alright, he’d just have to come up with something. What would his friend say in times like these, then? The answer comes unexpectedly quick and he leans over, taking Seungri’s hands, squeezing them once he sees how wet his friend’s eyes are.

They’re quiet for what feels like a very long time and he doesn’t know if that’s more or less alarming than the rambling.  Daesung makes him take his potion, drink some more water, all the while holding at least one of his hands. “Ri. That’s what he calls me,” the silence is broken but Seungri’s voice sounds so quiet he almost doesn’t pick up on it. “Cute, right?” the Gryffindor is apparently not expecting an answer as he lies down on the couch and curls onto himself. VI stands on the back of it, moving nervously from one end of it to the other, staring down in apparent distress, hooting softly. Daesung throws an apologetic smile at the bird before covering his friend with a blanket, hands freezing near his shoulders at the yawned words just before the younger man falls asleep.

“Stupid Jiyong.”