Author's note: about two chapters away from finishing I think. So yep, here we go.

He places the crate on the workbench, wiping his forehead with an arm after making sure it’s secure.

Sometimes Daesung wishes he could actively use a lot of magic in here without having to worry about backlash and possibly burning the place down because it would make the manual labour a lot easier. Not that he doesn’t enjoy it but some days carrying the raw materials around makes him worry for his back despite his master’s reassurances that when he gets to her age he’ll have his own cute little apprentice to do all the heavy lifting for him.

After peering inside the box he starts taking out the different types of wood, immediately identifying them and sorting the blocks into piles on the table. Beech, cedar and poplar, simple enough. It’s just basically restocking the supplies in the office and the ritual room and he takes a few turns walking back and forth until nothing’s left in the crate which is promptly left in a corner of the backroom next to another empty one to be taken care of later.

Afterwards he sits down, leaning on the workbench with both forearms, staring at the book lying in front of him. The days have been so slow for business lately. He knows they’re going to be incredibly busy as soon as summer starts, tending to the new – and some of the old – students going to Hogwarts, possibly even a few international ones, but the weeks leading up to it are so very, very slow.

Daesung is grateful for the chance to focus on his studying, especially after the hectic times around Halloween and Christmas but with little to break the monotony he’s left to make up his own entertainment during breaks – necessary to be able to focus on his reading – or somehow find a way to make himself be productive. A tap at the high window distracts him from his options and he waves his rowan wand around to let the owl in.

A letter from Seungri arrived earlier, carrying news about him and Jiyong because the Ravenclaw has been incredibly busy with the GD Controller as of late. He actually wanted to credit to the two of them but Daesung managed to convince him to both be honest about the fact most of the work was performed by the older man and to wait for a little, lest the press suddenly remember he exists again.

The bird is too regal to be Youngbae’s so he assumes it to be Chois’ and a quick look at the handwriting confirms his suspicions. Unlike their usual correspondence, however, there’s something attached to it. The letter turns out to not be a letter at all, merely a quick message telling him to open the package and say his boyfriend’s name. He reads it again but the words don’t seem to make more sense than they did the first time.

His fingers make quick work of prying the parcel open – there’s an object inside, circular and flat and black. He takes it out and looks it over, blinking once his mind identifies the item in his hand. Is that… a compact mirror?  Like the ones people use to retouch their makeup? His own face stares up at him when he manages to get it open so it clearly is.  Okay? Why did Seunghyun…

Oh right. Call his name, the letter said? Feeling a little ridiculous, Daesung stares at the mirror and clears his throat before clearly enunciating “Seunghyun Choi,” and the screen flickers for a few moments. It startles him but his boyfriend’s smiling face showing up instead of his own reflection surprises him more.

“… is this a recording?” he wonders, shaking the compact mirror a little. Maybe it’s like a wizarding photograph, a few seconds that loop all over again but the sound of a laugh dissuades him from that idea. The imagine of Seunghyun is clearly reacting to his statement so that can’t be it – oh maybe it’s like a wizarding portrait? Those are weird, containing memories and the personality of the subject. He doesn’t know how they work at all, actually, because they always seemed a bit creepy to him.

“I’m afraid it’s really me, Daesung.”

“Really?” he peers closer at the glass, making the Slytherin chuckle again, dimples showing up as his smile widens a little. Daesung can’t help but grin back, happy and excited all at once because they’re talking, actually talking. Not writing, not having to wait hours for an answer but talking and seeing each other. It’s not as convenient as texting but in a way it’s better. “What is this, Seunghyun?”

“I have another mirror of my own. They’re enchanted.”

“I’ve never even heard of anything like this.”

“They are… not exactly common. You mentioned, ah… cellphones… a few months ago and I was reminded of their existence. They were difficult to procure but the idea of being able to talk with you like this was more than enough of an incentive for me to search.”

The Hufflepuff doesn’t even need a second to translate the words anymore and shakes his head fondly, the curve to his smile becoming gentle and sweet. These mirrors are rare but Seunghyun searched for them and got them – he doesn’t want to know how much money they cost – so they could see each other’s face like this and speak in real time.

His heart pounds heavily in his chest as he slouches in his seat, propping his chin on the palm of his hand. Over half a year and he still flushes a little, he stills wants to laugh quietly and kiss him whenever Seunghyun talks like this, like doing these sort of gestures for him is the most natural thing in the world, like it’s the most obvious course of action.

“Thank you, Seunghyun,” the clock ticks and tocks and signals five o’clock somewhere up high in the shelves so they talk for only a minute more before closing their mirrors since the Slytherin has to focus on work again. There’s a rather big meeting with the Goblins coming up – it turns out he is determined to invent some way to make wizarding money easier to carry around after being introduced to credit cards – and the paperwork isn’t ready yet.

His master pops in to tell him he’s free to leave since it’s very unlikely they’ll have more than a couple of customers for the remaining hours until the shop closes like during every other day of this week. He quickly gathers his things, very carefully placing the mirror in the pocket of his jeans, and thanks her like usual before leaving. The other times he’s been dismissed early Daesung just made his way home but today he has somewhere to be for a few minutes.

His way to the Leaky Cauldron is, thankfully, made without much of a hassle. Some people still stare at him, a few come to ask him questions and every once in a while a more intrepid reporter decides ambushing him in the street is perfectly acceptable but he has learned to smile and politely decline answering their questions no matter how many times they ask, even if it makes them temperamental.

The wizarding pub still isn’t one of his favourite places, however, and it’s far too easy to get cornered in there so he rushed past it straight to the fireplace, barely taking the time to breathe and steel himself before Flooing out. Polished floors and sterile walls greet him as soon as he arrives, legs swaying slightly. Someone stumbles in right after his head stops spinning, forcing him to move forward and he does so reluctantly, asking one of the mediwitches rushing by for directions.

It’s the first time he’s been to St. Mungo’s since his accident and Daesung would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous about it. Youngbae had assured him they didn’t have to meet during his break or at least not inside the hospital but this is something he wants to do. He’d have to eventually and it’s best to do it on his own terms rather than being forced to if someone gets sick later on.

His stomach churns uncomfortably as he makes his way up – passing very, very quickly by the fourth floor dedicated to spell damage that holds some very unpleasant memories – and carefully stepping inside the visitors’ tearoom. There aren’t a lot of people around which makes it easier to recognize his friend and Daesung can’t help but smile a little as he makes his way over.

It’s actually a bit odd to see Youngbae in the green trainee healer robes, perhaps because this is only the second time he’s seen him in them. Or maybe it’s just odd to see him in his work environment in general. His posture is different, he’s not holding himself in the same casual way but his smile is genuine as he gestures for him to come closer.

Some of the tension leaves Daesung’s shoulders as they suddenly start chuckling and hug each other, exchanging pleasantries and teasing. The break is only about fifteen minutes long, not nearly enough time to eat anything or even have tea, so he takes the envelope out of his pocket and presents it with a bow and a flourish, biting his lip to keep from laughing at Youngbae’s rising brow.

“What’s this?”

“Open it.”

“… the… Ministry’s Spring Ball. Do they just make these up?”

“It feels like it,” some of them have traditions behind them, like the All Hallows’ Eve and Yuletide and Midsummer ones, some really don’t seem to have any reason to exist other than the fact someone thought they should. Maybe it’s a diplomatic relations thing he hasn’t quite grasped yet or some sort of office politics, he’ll ask Seunghyun later. The older Hufflepuff rereads the invitation and blinks, waving it around slightly and staring at him afterwards.

“So you’re going. Do you want me to come around beforehand again?”

Daesung’s smile widens as he laughs and shakes his head again. “No, that invitation is for you.”

“… what?”

“I know it’s not really your thing but it feels… weird… not having you there with us. So come this time if you can? Please?”

Youngbae tilts his head slightly, nodding after a few moments, the smile on his face small but genuine. While formal balls don’t have much appeal to him he’s willing to go every once in a while to hang out with them – and he’s the one who holds himself less seriously and less self-consciously during formal occasions than all of them, partly because he doesn’t have much of a stake in the entire thing and partly because he’s, well, himself. The thought makes Daesung grins and he hugs his housemate again, thanking him.

“But I’m not letting Jiyong near my hair.”

“Why not? He told me he used to change it for you during our times at Hogwarts. That’s where all the weird hairstyles came from, isn’t it?”

“Oh he told you that, did he?”

The healer-in-training pokes at him but doesn’t seem particularly upset by the revelation. It’s still odd to him, after all this time, realizing that all five of them had such different experiences, had such different things happen to them despite living in the same place for years, that even the way he knew Jiyong and the way Youngbae did were different. It’s a good reminder to try and keep things in perspective, if nothing else.

“Do you want to grab dinner later?”

“I can’t today. Sorry, Daesung.”

“That’s alright,” it was a spur of the moment thing. Daesung isn’t upset but he does raise an eyebrow and cross his arms in his best – yet still terrible – imitation of the older Hufflepuff’s concerned mother hen pose. “But remember to eat, alright? Don’t work yourself to death.”

A hand clasps over his shoulder as Youngbae pulls him closer and shakes him a little, laughing all the while. He lets him go after a minute, peering at his face, expression shifting from mirth into careful deliberation. Finally the older man shakes his head and starts walking towards the exit, waving the hand holding the invitation as he goes and throwing his parting answer at Daesung over his shoulder:

“I’m not working, I’m just having dinner with someone.”