Chapter 1:

Red Cloaks

"Please do behave tonight, okay? I don't want any weird things happening like last time," Sandra, his mother, straightened out the red bowtie neatly tied into place around his collar, holding it up perfectly like the rich etiquette should.

"I'd never do anything on purpose, you know that mum," he replied back, swatting her delicate fingers away from strangling him with the rosy satin.

"I know, honey, but you tend to get easily...upset over certain things," she said cautiously, choosing her words precisely to not offend the young boy. "and then something bad happens like bad feng shui floating around. Just please, Joonmyun, this night is really important to me."

Joonmyun sighed, closing his eyes for a brief moment of silence. "Fine, I'll try to put up with your snobby bosses, but if they cross the line, I can't promise anything." At that his mother smiled widely, clearly satisfied with his response. She knew better than anyone that he was the living emblem of bad luck, and it seemed worse when he was in a bad mood. It had been like that for years, long enough for them to joke about his sorry misfortune for unplanned things.

"That's a good boy," she patted him on the cheek affectionately, earning another swat from Joonmyun's hand. She laughed, a sound that calmed the young boy down like a cup of hot green tea after a long day at school, or like the warm winds hitting his cold skin on an early English spring day. Her laugh, Joonmyun thought, was one sent from Heaven, a gift from God himself to people everywhere with problems and an unsettling heart. Joonmyun found himself smiling at the sound, happy warmth filling him inside in content.

The woman stepped away from Joonmyun, taking a critical look over the dashingly dressed boy. Her red chapped lips formed into a smile, a proud one Junmyeon noticed, before stepping out of the room to get the last finishing touches done to perfection. As soon as the white door stood closed, he let out the deep breath he hadn't realize he was holding. He turned to the full length mirror behind him and stared at his reflection.

In the mirror stood an eleven year old boy with dark brown hair that contrasted so effortlessly against his china white skin. He looked even more elegant in the expensive suit he was forced to wear. The boy's features were soft and child like, speaking his age to the public but if you looked close enough, you'd see the aging maturity within his eyes. Joonmyun's mother used to describe him as an old man trapped in a young boy's body and he would glare at her for the rest of the evening after that remark.

A smile formed on the boy in the reflection's lips, a small but happy one for sure. It didn't suit him though, Joonmyun thought, because he just looked older, unlike when all other children smiled, they looked younger. Joonmyun hated smiling, even if he really wanted to, he wouldn't. Only his mother ever saw his smile and it was quite sad, even he knew that, but he never felt the need to smile in public. Not even around his little group of friends. Instead, they would be smiling at him like idiots for something funny that he did. He just didn't find anything amusing or worth his smile, except for his mother, naturally.

Joonmyun sighed and so did his reflection. Within seconds did the boy in the mirror's shoulders slump and his head hung low on them as he took a deep breath. He didn't feel all that well, to say the least. He thought he was going to be sick but no vomit came, just the agonizingly irritating feeling of something very disturbing in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he actually was going to be sick.

Sighing once more, he let a hand tangle itself into the brown jungle on top of his head, making it look just a bit more natural and messy. He might have been a proper student in school and an exemplary son according to his mother but he didn't want everything to be perfect; just one little unnoticeable thing out of place made all the difference to him, even if no one else saw.

"Honey, you ready yet?" His mother's head peaked through the small opening of the door and he nodded reluctantly, taking one last look at the eleven year old in the mirror. Joonmyun followed the beautifully dressed woman out of the apartment, taking his jacket - much to his mothers dislike due to the horrible contrast between a tuxedo suit and a regular collage jacket - and his phone, earning a another disapproving look from his mum.

"What?" he asked innocently, clutching onto the phone in his hand.

"I don't want to see you on that thing the whole night, okay? Make some friends for once," she snarked, putting on her coat and opening the door to leave, Joonmyun following behind.

"What do you mean by that?" His mother said nothing but laughed lightly at the offended tone of his voice. Clearly, she was finding it amusing to about his not-so-good habit of being glued to the screen.

The late July night was anything but welcoming to the two Quinceys, harsh, cold winds and humid air whipping at their faces mercilessly. But even so, Joonmyun enjoyed the dark of the night, even though he would never dare to walk alone in it because who knows what could be lurking in the shadows.

Being the gentleman he was raised to be, he followed his mother to the small car and held the door open for her, letting her slide inside the car seat before walking over to his side. His mother would never verbally thank him for doing so but she always gave this look that was enough for Joonmyun to feel accomplished. But this time, when she smiled the trademark grin, he felt weird, like something bad was eating him from within, gnawing at the untamed flesh of his stomach and heart. He felt sick and sad at the sight instead of feeling the usual happiness. Joonmyun shook his head to get rid of the weird feeling and smiled back at her, ignoring the warning signs within.

The ride to the formal dinner wasn't long and filled with comfortable silence over the hushing sounds of Katy Perry on the radio. But Joonmyun liked to watch the lights flicker by the passing car. Ever since they had moved from Chigwell this summer, to ensure a safer journey for his mother between work and home, Joonmyun had quickly fallen in love with the flashing lights of London. It felt magical to watch everything speed by so quickly. He felt amazed that the world went by with everyone in it having their own stories to live on in; it made him think about how his own story would play out. What would his future look like? Little did he know that tonight would show a snippet of it.

Before Joonmyun could register it, the car had stopped and his mother was already stepping out of the old car, not waiting for him to open the door for her like usually. He was just a little dazed, he told himself, and distracted for that matter.

"Joon-honey, what on earth are you sitting there for?" his mother called out for him when he still hadn't stepped out of the car. "We're late, will you please hurry up?"

"Sorry," he muttered under his breath, lazily fumbling over the handle of the door before stepping out into the cold. He shivered to himself, noting that the temperature must have dropped another five degrees. It wasn't too cold though, but the summer in England wasn't always on top - tonight was one of those nights.

The inside of the grand hall of the hotel was decorated with carnations, pretty and light against the maroon walls, and expensive looking vases were perched on stools for display. Joonmyun couldn't help the little scoff that escaped his lips at the sight. He quickly covered it up with a fake cough when the scary looking doorman gave him a look of disapproval. He stepped in further and hung off his jacket at the coat check, along with his mother's red one.

When he turned around, his bubbly mother had already made her way through the sea of people and begun talking to the board directors to probably impress them into giving her a promotion. Joonmyun rolled his eyes at her attempts but made no effort in stopping her. Tonight was her night and Joonmyun would be unselfish and let her talk the night away. She could surely handle herself for a few hours.

He could clearly feel the stares that came his way as he, slowly for hours, he walked aimlessly around the grand hall, occasionally stopping at the pretty paintings plastered on the wall for people to look at. It was uncomfortable, just like he had thought it would be and he couldn't seem to shake it off. He could evidently see the judgemental looks as well, burning holes into his black tux jacket. They didn't even bother trying to be discrete about it. They could easily smell out the rat in the building and mark it as their target, Joonmyun being the target of the night.

The young Quincey was not one to brag but many times has he been told that his looks would be heavily envious of, not that he cared for it, but when it came to meetings like these, where people knew exactly how economically situated he was and how weird his history at these events were, he couldn't help but think that that was his only upper hand. After all, he wasn't playing in the home field.

After getting a bit worked up about the subjective gazes from snobby, rich people, particularly kids of his own age giving him the stink eye, he decided to focus more on the artwork placed everywhere in the grand hall. Pictures of random people at a park didn't interest him at all but he willed himself to stare at it for several minutes, despite the nagging in the back of his brain to run away from the boringness.

Was it bad that he spent minutes upon minutes looking for flaws in the paintings? It probably was.

"I see fire burning the breeze," someone sang, a sound so pure and light to Joonmyun's ears that he couldn't help the turn of his head in the direction of the voice. A few pictures away stood a girl with bright red hair staring intently at a picture of what looked like the side of a castle in the dark moonlight. The painting, very elegant and precise, was a lot more luring to the eye than anything else in the gala room so he understood why the girl stood in front of it.

Without him noticing it, Joonmyun had stepped forward towards the girl in the dark pink dress. She looked about the same age as himself but he didn't know. The closer he stepped towards her, the more pretty she got. She had stopped singing but Joonmyun could care less because the brightly shining eyes were more infatuating to him.

Joonmyun stood next to her in front of the large painting, pretending to admire it with a determined gaze but secretly, he was admiring her side view and her beautiful posture. She looked like a little ballerina with a rosy dress, one that suited his bowtie perfectly in colour.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" she suddenly said, her voice soft and soaked in admiration. Joonmyun was taken aback at the sudden contact but nodded, letting out a calm breath through his nose. "It's Hogwarts School."

"That's a school?" Joonmyun asked in disbelief, genuinely curious about it. So the painting was one of a real place? That must have been a massive chunk of bricks they must have used, seeing as though the castle was huge.

"Mhm. I'll be going there next year," she said happily, obviously proud over that fact, though it meant nothing to Joonmyun.

"It seems like a scary place to study."

"I heard it's fun to study there. You'll get to learn so many things you'll need in life," she turned to face Joonmyun and smiled. For a split second, he stood in shock but quickly composed himself. The right side of the girls face was scared, it was light and the same colour of her skin but it was evident that something bad had happened to her, like a big dog or something clawed at her face angrily.

"Jessica! We're going now," a woman called out and the girl turned her face to face what Joonmyun presumed was her mother. Before leaving, she gave the boy a small smile as a goodbye and he politely returned it.

"She's quite the looker isn't she?" A boy's voice sounded behind him and Joonmyun turned to face the mystery person. What he didn't expect was a slightly older boy with sleek looks and soft contours with a martini glass in hand filled with raspberry juice looking at the painting of the castle in the moonlight.

"Huh?"

"Jessica, she's....unique, eh?" A slight Irish accent was engraved in the boy's voice, something so small it would barely be picked up by anyone other than Joonmyun and his mindful nature.

"Are you referring to her...." Joonmyun made a subtle gesture to the right part of his face and the dirty blonde haired boy laughed whole-heartedly.

"Yeah, her scar. She used to be such a pretty little fairy before that accident," the boy sighed, going back to looking at the painting. Joonmyun noticed the slight different colours of the boy's eyes and cocked his head to get a little better look. "You could just ask, you know?" the blonde turned to face him again, giving Joonmyun a better look of the discoloured eyes.

"That's so cool," he whispered under his breath, stepping a bit closer to the boy before stopping half way and peeling his eyes off of the other's. "Sorry, that was really rude," Joonmyun cleared his throat awkwardly, embarrassed for losing his senses.

"No it's okay. I'm used to it," the boy said, smiling kindly at him before reaching his hand out for Joonmyun, "Luhan Duke. Nice to meet you," he said politely and the dark brown haired boy accepted his hand shake.

"Joonmyun Quincey," he replied, smiling back. "So is that some medical condition?" he lightly pointed at Luhan's left eye, noting that it was a light shade of grey instead of brown like the other.

"Kinda," he smiled bitterly and Joonmyun instantly felt bad for bringing it up.

"Sorry. I was just curious," he apologized, moving his gaze towards the castle painting instead.

"No, no, it's completely fine. It's a little bit more complicated than just a medical condition but it's great for getting the girls' attention," he winked playfully at Joonmyun making him smile at the dorky ways of the elder boy.

"Is it really a school?" Joonmyun asked after a moment of silence, looking carefully at the picture hung up on the wall. The painting was huge, taller than both him and Luhan and about four meters wide at least. It was a delicate piece of art that without a doubt took a really long time to make.

"Yeah. It's quite nice to be honest, big common rooms, nice food and really funky teachers," Luhan replied, as if he actually went to the school, which Joonmyun later realised was very much possible.

"Funky? Really?" Joonmyun asked with an amused smile, raising his eyebrow at the slightly taller kid.

"What?"

"It's like we live in the eighties," he sighed loudly.

Silence was cast over the two again, and neither dared to say a word, for very different reasons. Joonmyun cleared his throat to relieve the awkward silence but the Luhan boy didn't seem to notice and continued on to stare at the dark painting. It was odd, to say the least but Luhan didn't seem bothered that he was completely mesmerized by it. It was like an enchantment was cast upon the dirty blonde boy.

"It's pretty," Joonmyun said, interrupting Luhan's fixed gaze from the painting to him.

"Uh," Luhan looked flustered for a moment, "Yeah it is. Just don't look at it for too long," he smiled. Joonmyun smiled back in acknowledgement but the feeling that Luhan seemed a little weird wouldn't shake him. "It's cursed, they say." Okay, that definitely marked the point that this kid was more than a little weird.

"Oh?" Joonmyun said nervously, tugging slightly at his high collar.

"Yeah. Story goes that the painter had a magic paint brush and put a spell on it to make it seem more mesmerizing than it actually was. I learned about it last year in History of Magic."

"That seems," Joonmyun searched for the right word whilst deliberately taking a small step farther away from the blonde boy, "weird."

"You'll understand better soon," Luhan said sheepishly, letting a devilish smile accent his words making the hairs on Joonmyun's neck rise. Creepy, he said to himself as he stared at the weird boy.

"Okay...." He didn't know what else to say at that moment.

"Well, I gotta go but I hope to see you next year, Joonmyun Quincey. It's gonna be a blast." Luhan smiled one last time before turning on his heal to leave. As soon as the blonde head disappeared in the crowd of people, Joonmyun's muscles eased, but only the slightest. He shivered slightly as if to shake away the last of the weird feeling Luhan had brought with him.

"They just get weirder and weirder every year," he muttered under his breath, and left the equally weird painting in the peace of the lively chatter.

Once again, he found himself wandering around the hall, occasionally stopping to stare at some boring looking art or some where he tried to figure out what the hell it was supposed to be. These art conventions he was forced to attend to were not the highlights of his year, most definitely, but it was something his mother planned for months prior, so obviously, keeping the 'good son' card in check, he had to support her.

When the night neared its end, people began looking a bit more laid-back and free, probably because of the numerous glasses of champagne they would drown themselves in. The air in the room became lighter and more festive, almost like a party, except there was not a single tone of good music in the room and no crazy dancing. Though, that was only how Joonmyun saw how parties were displayed on the telly, it could very much be false that people actually had that much fun in real life.

For the enth time that night, Joonmyun sighed from his spot in the corner, overlooking the dozens of people happily chatting to each other as if there would be no tomorrow. He briefly wished his life would be just a tad more exciting than this, but never would he admit that to anyone he knew.

His head began spinning from the lack of good air and he decided to step out for a moment to take a breather. He slipped out carefully through one of the glass doors leading to a balcony, though he would hardly classify it as a balcony, seeing as it was barely two feet off the ground.

The brisk air that met him felt fresh against his skin, cold and splashing with regenerated energy for his body. It was like waking up with a cold shower. Joonmyun shivered and wrapped his suit jacket around himself tighter in hopes it would keep out the cold.

"Why don't you wear something warmer?" a soft, calming voice said, making the poor boy jump in surprise.

"Oh God, don't scare people like that," he fake laughed, trying to get the words out as respectfully as possible.

"Oh don't try to sugar-coat your emotions, Joonmyun. I know you're annoyed about it. You're a very temperamental child," she said, taking the boy aback.

"How would you know?" She didn't answer his question but instead smiled at him like there was no tomorrow. She was pretty young, Joonmyun noted, maybe a woman in her mid thirties or so. Her long brown hair looked almost a reddish raven in the evening light and her eyes were clear blue, like a husky dog's in the middle of winter. But she looked familiar most of all, like Joonmyun had seen her somewhere before but he couldn't quite put a finger on it.

"Why don't we get you some warmer clothes?" she said before pulling out a, what looked like a fake one, wand from her dark red cloak and with a flick of a wrist, Joonmyun was dressed in his black and white collage jacket, warmth enclosing around him like he desperately wanted.

Joonmyun stood bewildered in awe and confusion looking directly at the woman in red. She swiftly stuffed the staff back into her cloak and smiled warmly at Joonmyun's shaking frame.

"Mira Bailey," she said, holding out her hand for him to shake. It took him a moment or two to register what she meant before he fumbled out his hand and shook hers.

"J-Joonmyun Q-Quincey," he stuttered out.

"I know very well who you are," she smiled before reaching into her cloak once again but this time taking out a piece of old fashioned paper. She handed it to Joonmyun whom reluctantly took it. "I'm actually here to deliver this to you."

"What is it?" He twirled around the paper in his hands before finally settling on the side with writing on it. It was an envelope with his name and address written in elegant cursive letters.  

"It's a letter obviously." In the corner of Joonmyun's eyes he saw how the woman had rolled her eyes at the boy's stupidity.

"I know it's a letter. Who's it from?"

"Open it and see," she smiled again. Joonmyun was starting to think that she was actually excited to see the contents herself or maybe was she excited to see Joonmyun's facial expression, he didn't know.

His long fingers fiddled over the crisp opening and lightly, his thumb slid under the paper and ripped it open. A letter in the same material was situated inside and Joonmyun took it out to read.

"Dear Mr. Quincey,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July." Joonmyun's eyebrows spoke on their own and showed the entire world of his confusion and lack of knowing what to think of the words in his hands. "Couldn't I have just gotten this by the post?" was oddly the first thing he chose to voice, to which Mira laughed rather loudly at.

"You did but your mum wasn't too happy about it," she said.

"Why not?"

"She didn't want you to attend the school because she never received her letter."

"So you're saying that.....this school....for magic....is real?" Disbelief was embedded in Joonmyun's voice, along with confusion and reluctance. The tugging of the corners of his lips was hard to ignore and he let out an unsure laugh. "And I'm supposed to believe that I'm a wizard?"

"You're a lot smarter than a lot of the muggle-born I've met," Mira's eyebrows raised in amusement. "But yes, you are a wizard."

"Prove it," Joonmyun said, cocking his head to the side and folding his arms across his chest like one of those bullies he used to deal with in primary school.

"Have you ever made something break or disappear without touching it?" And Joonmyun thought about the countless things he'd broken in his life, many of which he hadn't even been in close proximity of. "Maybe something weird happened that you couldn't find a reasonable explanation for?" Joonmyun stayed quiet because he very well knew that those things have happened on not only one accord but several.

"How do I know that that was magic?"

"Because no one else around you understands it. Not even your mother."

A long pause of silence echoed between them and Joonmyun took this time to think thoroughly. If magic, as Mira says, is real, wouldn't there be a whole world out there with magical creatures and beings fighting on each side of the conscious line between good and evil? Could it be possible that all his mother's bedtime stories were real? That things like dragons and unicorns and merpeople were real? It seemed highly unlikely, even to a childish eleven year old like Joonmyun. It was almost too good to be true and for a split second he had the urge to laugh and call out for the candid camera to come out. But one part of him, obviously not his rational side, believed every word Mira had said. A pit deep down within him seemed to have settled on the idea of the possibility that this letter he held in his hand was speaking the truth about a school for witchcraft and wizardry. Normally, in circumstances like these, Joonmyun would cower away to his mother for comfort, like she had taught him to run away from the unknown, but if Mira was speaking the truth about his mother's efforts in keeping the letter away from him, he wouldn't be able to run to her this time.

Maybe it was Joonmyun's childish heart that wanted to desperately believe this magical world existed or it might have been a spur of the moment, but Joonmyun agreed to listen to Mira, to trust her despite not having known her for so long. It was irrational thinking, Joonmyun wanted to believe.

"How do I know you're not lying?" he said cautiously, looking down at his feet in fear of meeting the woman's eyes. Joonmyun wasn't referring to the existence of the magical world, but the truth of his mother's actions.

"Ask her. She'll tell the truth if you come seeking for it," was Mira's reply.

"Will you come with me? To tell her, I mean." Joonmyun didn't know why he was feeling so lost at a moment like this to ask a complete stranger for help with such a personal matter. If his mother ever found out about this, which she will as soon as he finds her, Joonmyun's dead meat.

"Of course," she smiled warmly at him, taking his hand and following the boy inside into the crowded room.

It was suddenly feeling a lot more stuffed as soon as Joonmyun entered, the air felt smothering with toxins of fear entering his lungs. Something was definitely not right and the feeling of being sick got stronger and stronger as they went farther into the room. Joonmyun's grip on Mira's hand loosened and his palms became sweaty. He could feel the beads of sweat building up at his hairline, threatening to fall at any moment. Joonmyun's ears began aching and all sounds muffled against his eardrum. He could vaguely hear Mira's concerned words and turned back to look at her. This was when his vision started failing as well. Everything mushed together and created one big blob of colours, making Joonmyun's mind sway from left to right. Every time he blinked, the blackness lasted longer until he saw, heard and felt nothing. 

♥

private tumblr| official tumblr

4624 words

comment your thoughts please