MASTERLIST⠀·⠀Don't take me or what I write too seriously. I hope you have a good time in my blog. ❤︎
Piwon and SVT. Hoe for Keeho, DK and S.Coups biased.
This blog might contain suggestive or explicit content (MDNI). I do not condone any translation or adaptation, let alone any hateful comment or speech. Please, be kind.
Title :: Boy, friend
Classification :: Friends to Lovers
Summary :: Everything Vernon does, that's just what friends do....Right?
Word Count :: 5.5k words
series masterlist ✦ svt masterlist
Genre: Hogwarts AU • Friends to Lovers • Slow Burn • Fluff • Mutual Pining • Oblivious Idiots
Trigger Warnings: Mild blood purity discrimination (brief use of "mudblood")
A/N: First part of my series!!! Starting with my bias<3 Hope y'all enjoy it
You were standing outside the Charms corridor with your arms full of books, wishing you had asked Yunjin to carry half of them, when you almost crash into Rosalind, a pureblood Slytherin with a personal grudge against you because of your blood status. Great, out of everyone you could’ve bumped into, it just had to be her.
”Out of the way, Mudblood”, She says it quietly, under her breath, just loud enough that you hear it and quiet enough that no professor passing by would catch it.
You have had the word directed towards you several times before and by now you roughly knew how your body would respond to it: the small drop in your stomach, the heat that climbed up the back of your neck, and the practiced effort of keeping your face still so nobody gets the satisfaction of watching it land. You were already gathering yourself to take your books and keep walking when a voice, almost bored, comes from somewhere behind you.
"Didn't realize we were still doing that outdated shit."
You turn and so does Rosalind.
It was a boy from your year. You knew his name, though you had never really spoken to him beyond a passing greeting in the library. Vernon. He was simply standing there with his hands in his pockets, looking at Rosalind with a straight face.
Rosalind starts to say something about mixed company muddying the crowd. Vernon does not raise his voice. He only tilts his head slightly, eyebrow raised and says, "Funny. I was about to say the same about you."
Then he turns and walks away.
He does not glance back at her. He simply bends down to help you gather your books “Here you go”. You look at him with gratitude and your mouth opening and closing without any words coming out. “Oh..um, thanks..” He nods and walks down the corridor with the same unbothered pace he'd arrived in, his bag slung over one shoulder, and rounds the corner without a backward look.
You stand there for a long moment, too surprised and flustered, the books slipping slightly in your arms, feeling strangely undone. Not by the insult, you were already used to that. You were undone, instead, by the plainness of what he did. He didn't make a scene of it, nor tried to make himself the hero of the corridor. He just refused to let something ugly go unanswered.
That evening, you head to the library like you always do, intending to lose yourself in a Transfiguration essay and forget about the unpleasantness in the corridor. However, it does not work.
Every time your quill pauses, your thoughts drift back to him and you catch yourself searching the room before you even realize you're doing it.
He is there, seated near the window with a Herbology textbook open across his lap, entirely absorbed in whatever he is reading. The firelight catches against the side of his face as he turns a page, unaware that anyone is looking at him.
You find yourself watching for a moment longer than you probably should.
There is nothing especially different about him today. He is only sitting there, reading in comfortable silence.
...Was he always this cute?
The thought lands so suddenly that you nearly drop your quill.
"Absolutely not," you mutter under your breath, giving your own cheek a light smack before forcing your eyes back onto your essay. "We're not doing that."
Your face feels suspiciously warm anyway.
❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈
If someone asked you to name the exact day you and Vernon became friends, you would not be able to answer them. There is no single afternoon you can point to. It happened before you could realise.
It began, you think, with a seat.
You came down to the library carrying more parchment than you could comfortably hold, tired because of a double Potions lesson, and there is a seat near the window that seems to have been left empty despite the room being otherwise full. You sit without thinking much of it. It is only the following evening, when the same seat is empty again, that you glance up and catch Vernon sitting opposite to you, looking away too quickly, as though he had been watching the seat to see whether you would take it.
"Were you saving that for someone?" you ask.
"No, you can sit here" he says. Then, after a pause, he adds, "You always sit there anyway."
"I do?"
"You do."
“Oh, thanks Vernon”. You do not examine this too closely. You only sit down, and he goes back to his book with a nod in reply, and by the end of the week it has become, without either of you ever deciding it, the place where the two of you sat.
❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈
From there, things multiply slowly. He begins falling into step beside you on the walk to Herbology, without a word of greeting, as though the two of you had always walked together. In return, you begin saving him a place at the library table nearest the window.
You spend long stretches of time in silence together, and to your quiet surprise, you find that you do not mind it at all. He has a way of simply existing beside you that makes the quiet feel less like the absence of conversation and more like a kind of company all its own.
Neither of you ever calls any of this friendship out loud. It does not seem to need saying. It is simply what your days are shaped around now.
❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈
It is well into autumn before you catch yourself thinking something you immediately try to talk yourself out of.
You are in the library, having to sit at a table with a single same worn copy of a Transfiguration text owing to the upcoming exams. Without much options, the two of you squeeze into the table that was clearly meant for one person. Your shoulders brushing every time either of you turns a page. Beneath the table, your knees end up pressed together.
Neither of you shifts away. You are meant to be conjugating a difficult incantation, but for several long minutes you are far more aware of the warmth where his knee meets yours than you are of any of the words on the page in front of you.
You tell yourself this means nothing. Friends sit close together. It is a small table. There is nowhere else to put your legs.
"You don’t have to memorise the text, you know right?" His voice is quiet.
You blink, realizing you've been staring at the same paragraph for nearly a minute. "Y-yes I know."
"Wake me up when you’re done reading this page, Miss Sloth"
You nudge his shoulder with yours. "You're insufferable."
"So I've been told."
You find yourself chuckling despite yourself. At that sound, he looks up at you from the book. "Hold still."
Before you can ask why, his hand reaches across the narrow space between you, and his fingers brush lightly against your temple. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, eyes locked with yours as he does it. His thumb lingers for the briefest second against your cheek before he pulls away.
"There."
You stare at him, your breath catching slightly. What just happened
"What?"
"You had ink on your face."
"...That doesn't explain the hair,” you say under your breath.
"It was in the way." he says and simply returns to reading.
Meanwhile you spend the next several minutes pretending to study while your heartbeat refuses to settle. Do friends do that? Surely they do....don't they?
❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈
Vernon is running late after helping Professor Sprout with something in the greenhouses, leaving you alone long enough for Yunjin to slide into the seat across from you. She tears a piece off her toast before looking at you over the rim of her teacup.
"So," she says, far too casually, "how long have you and Vernon been together?"
You nearly inhale your pumpkin juice and a coughing fit takes over before you can answer.
"What?" you manage between coughs. "We aren't..." You shake your head, still trying to catch your breath. "We're just friends."
Yunjin opens her mouth to reply but instead, her eyes drift over your shoulder. You turn just as Vernon arrives, setting his bag beside him before sitting down next to you.
"You alright?" he asks, already reaching into his pocket and without waiting for an answer, he unfolds a neatly pressed handkerchief and places it in your hand. Then he pulls your empty goblet closer, fills it with water from the pitcher in the middle of the table, and nudges it gently toward you. "Here," he says quietly. "Drink slowly."
You mumble a small thank you, cheeks warming as you take the glass.
Only after you've stopped coughing does he begin serving himself breakfast as though nothing unusual had happened.
When Vernon looks away to butter his toast, Yunjin meets your eyes. One eyebrow lifts.
The expression is enough to let you know her exact thoughts. Sure. Just friends.
You look away first, having nothing to defend yourself anyway.
A few days later, you're leaving the library alone after returning a stack of books while Vernon waits outside for you.
As you're signing the register, Madam Pince glances over her spectacles. "Tell your boyfriend that if he's going to keep borrowing books on advanced Transfiguration, he ought to remember to return them on time."
You blink."My... boyfriend?"
"Mr. Chwe." She says matter-of-factly and stamps another return slip. "The two of you practically live in my library."
Heat crawls up your neck. "Oh... we're actually just friends."
Madam Pince pauses for exactly one second. "Hm." The noise is polite yet entirely unconvinced and she goes back to shelving books.
Outside, Vernon looks up the moment the library doors open. "There you are."
You leave feeling strangely embarrassed, just hoping that he doesn’t notice your blushing cheeks.
Later that week, you're waiting outside Charms while Vernon stays behind to ask Professor Flitwick a question.
Joshua happens to pass by. He slows when he notices you standing alone. "Waiting for Vernon?"
“Oh hello Joshua! Yes, he'll only be another minute."
Joshua smiles to himself. He adjusts the strap of his bag before adding, almost as an afterthought,
"I think it's kinda sweet"
"...What is?"
"The way you always wait for each other."
Your heart stumbles. "We're only friends Shua."
Joshua studies your face for a moment. Then, very gently, he asks, "Has he actually told you that?"
The question catches you completely off guard. Before you can ask what he means, Vernon steps out of the classroom.
Joshua's expression changes immediately. "Anyway," he says with an easy smile, "I'll see you both at dinner."
He walks away before you can stop him.
You spend the entire journey to the Great Hall thinking about those six words.
Has he actually told you that?
Told you what?
The strangest part isn't that people assume you're together. It's how naturally Vernon seems to fit into those assumptions without ever knowing they're happening. You begin to wonder, quietly, whether you are the only person at Hogwarts who is confused about what this actually is.
❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈
When Madam Pince finally announces the library is closing for lunch, Vernon gathers both of your books without asking and waits while you shove loose parchment into your bag. The corridors are crowded with all the students rushing towards the Great Hall. Without thinking, your fingers curl around the sleeve of his robe so you don't lose him in the sea of students. The moment you realize what you're doing, embarrassment floods your face and you let go. Before you could think much about it, his hand reaches your wrist to gently guide you through the crowd.
"Careful," he says as a group of third years barrels around the corner.
His fingers are warm on your wrist and you think he doesn't seem to notice what he’s doing. You are reading way too much into it…you notice far too much...
His hand stays there until the hallway opens into the courtyard. By the time he lets go, your skin still remembers his and you are beginning to think your heart has become deeply unreasonable.
Outside, the air has a sharp bite to it. You rub your hands together as the wind slips beneath your robes.
Without a word, Vernon unwinds the scarf from around his own neck and before you can protest, he loops it around your neck. His fingers brush beneath your chin as he straightens the ends. For one impossible moment, he is standing so close that all you can see is him. As he’s done with securing the scarf around your neck, his eyes lift to yours, offering you a small smile and suddenly you forget how to breathe.
Then he steps back as though nothing unusual has happened.
"I was fine," you manage to mumble out as you both continue walking. You spend the walk to the Great Hall trying to hide your smile into the scarf.
After lunch, the two of you drift back to the Ravenclaw common room to finish the assignment you had barely started. Claiming the sofa nearest the fire, you get comfortable on it trying to warm yourself up. Vernon walks behind you, removing his jumper and throws it casually on the armrest. You quickly lean over and grab it from the armrest, pulling it over your uniform. It hangs well past your fingertips.
He glances up once. "You've stolen another one."
"I’m just borrowing it. Please I think there’s a draft in here" you hug yourself, rubbing your hands on your arms.
"You said that about the last one too."
"I returned that."
"Yeah yeah, you did… only three weeks later."
You look away, unable to hide your grin. "It was too comfortable to return."
“Keep it” He only returns to his notes, completely unbothered, while you try to not look at him too much as you spend your time pretending to understand Ancient Runes.
❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈
Several hours pass as you both work on writing your assignments in silence. You stretch your arms up, fingers flexing as you let out a small yawn. “Finally...I managed to write a bit. Do you want to read it?”
“Hmm let me see” He shifts closer to read your essay over your shoulder and you become acutely aware of how close he is. Close enough to see the faint scar marking his eyebrow. Close enough to notice the way his lips part ever so slightly as he reads out your essay to himself.
“This looks like a good start” He looks at you.
His gaze is fixed on you and you wonder, absurdly, what would happen if neither of you looked away, what would happen if either of you leaned in just a bit closer. Your pulse pounds loudly against your throat as you struggle to get your head straight, unable to look away from the boy sitting beside you.
Your thoughts remain thoughts as Seungkwan enters with pumpkin tarts and the moment breaks. “Tarts for all!” He walks towards you both, and you shift slightly away from Vernon, clearing your throat. “Don’t forget to eat between your obnoxiously long study sessions” he says, offering you one.
Vernon reaches for another piece of tart on the plate, as though nothing had happened. Well nothing had, technically.
Poor you, now you will have to spend the rest of the evening wondering if you imagined the entire thing or not.
Thankfully, the portrait swings open before your thoughts can spiral any further, and Joshua walks in, balancing a stack of books against his hip.
"There you are," he says, walking towards the both of you.
“Didn’t I tell you we’d find them here” Seungkwan joins and takes a few books from Joshua, setting them on the table. "We checked the library, the courtyard, and even the Owlery. We were actually beginning to think you had disappeared."
Joshua's gaze lands on you, then on the oversized jumper and then finally on Vernon. The corners of his mouth lift knowingly. "So this is where you've been hiding."
You hurriedly begin stacking your notes. "I should probably leave you three alone. You haven't seen each other all day."
Before you can stand properly, warm fingers wrap gently around your hand. Vernon looks at you with quiet confusion.
"Why would you leave? We were in the middle of something."
"I just thought you'd want to catch up with them."
His thumb shifts absentmindedly against your knuckles as he gives your hand a gentle tug. "Sit back down. We've still got half an essay left."
The gesture is so casual that it almost makes it worse. You sink back onto the sofa, hoping the warmth creeping into your cheeks isn't too obvious.
Across the room, Seungkwan watches the entire exchange before slowly turning to Joshua. "I'm not saying anything," he murmurs.
Joshua smiles to himself. "I wasn't going to, either."
They both take the armchairs opposite you and the conversation slips easily from homework to Quidditch to Seungkwan's latest complaint about Professor Binns. You find yourself laughing far more than you contribute.
Seungkwan glances around before lowering his voice. "Apparently Mingyu rejected someone today." Joshua looks up in surprise. "Really?" "Not intentionally though," Seungkwan corrects with a sigh. "A girl asked if he wanted to go to Hogsmeade with her this weekend and he just smiled and said, 'Sure. Who else is coming?'" Joshua groans, dropping his head into one hand. "No..." "By the time someone explained it to him, she was already halfway back to her common room."
Vernon lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Poor Mingyu." His smile is small, the corners of his eyes crinkling. You look away before he can catch you staring, but it doesn't really help. The warm feeling lingers deep inside your chest. Friends aren't supposed to make your heart race just by smiling. At least, you don't think they are.. Or I have been doing friendship wrong for years?
You do not say any of this to him. You are not entirely sure your voice would survive it anyways.
❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈
Finally the gruelling exam is over and you were on your way to find Vernon after your last class of the day, a habit so worn into the shape of your afternoons now that your feet carry you toward the usual courtyard without your having to think about it, when you hear his voice drifting from around the corner. He was talking to someone you did not recognize, his tone easy and unhurried like it always was.
You slow without meaning to. It’s not like you were trying to eavesdrop. You simply catch, as you pass, a question you do not quite hear the whole of, and then Vernon's answer, plain and unmistakable.
"Yeah. I've got a girlfriend."
You stop walking. Whatever comes after that sentence, if anything comes after it at all, never reaches you, because your ears have gone strange and rushing, and your feet were already carrying you backward before you have consciously chosen to move.
A girlfriend.
Not you. It cannot be you, because you have spent months insisting, to anyone who would listen, that the two of you were only friends, and he must have believed you, and so he must have found someone else in all this time, someone you know nothing about, someone he speaks of so easily and so plainly that it must have been true for a while now.
You do not stop to reason any of this through properly. You only turn and walk the other way, the scarf, his scarf, wound tight around your throat as though it might hold in whatever sound is trying to climb up out of your chest, and you do not look back to see whether he noticed you were ever there at all.
❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈
You begin finding reasons not to be where he expects you.
You take your meals early or late, timed carefully around whatever hour you know he will be elsewhere. You study in an empty classroom near the greenhouses instead of your usual table by the library window, and when Madam Pince notices the table sitting empty for the first time in months, she says nothing to you directly, though you catch her frowning at it once, as though the silence itself has become suspicious to her.
You give Vernon short, clipped answers whenever he catches you in a corridor. Busy. Sorry. Can't, essay's due. You do not look at him properly when you say these things, afraid of what your face might give away if you do.
He does not chase you down, not at first. He has never been the sort to make a scene, and some distant, grateful part of you is glad of that even as another part of you, unreasonably, wishes he would corner you and demand to know what is wrong, so that you would not have to be the one to say it first.
Instead, he only grows quieter. You catch him watching you sometimes from across the Great Hall, an expression on his face you have never seen there before. Not hurt, exactly, but something close to it.
Yunjin finds you in your dormitory a week into it, arms folded, entirely unimpressed with your excuses. "What happened?" she asks, "Don't tell me nothing happened because I'm not buying that for a second."
"Nothing happened," you say, which is nearly true, since nothing happened to you directly. You only overheard something you were never meant to hear, and it happened to break something in your chest that you had not realized could break so easily.
Yunjin sighs and sits down on the edge of your bed. "He asked me where you were after Charms yesterday," she says, gentler now. "Then this morning he wanted to know if you'd skipped breakfast because he hadn't seen you in the Great Hall. I don't think he has the faintest idea what's going on."
You do not answer that. You pull your knees up to your chest and stare at the wall, thinking miserably that of course he does not know, since the thing that is wrong is a girlfriend you are not supposed to know about at all. A whole life he apparently has that has nothing to do with you.
You keep the scarf anyway. You tell yourself you will return it eventually. You do not take off the hoodie either, and you find yourself crying quietly into the sleeve of it more than once, which is exactly the sort of thing you had promised yourself you would not become.
You avoid him for eleven days, but god does it feel a good deal longer than that.
❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈
Vernon doesn't go looking for you immediately. For the first few days, he assumes you are simply busy. But by the end of the week, he isn't so sure.
Joshua looks up from his book when Vernon drops onto the sofa opposite him in the Ravenclaw common room. He watches him for a moment before quietly closing the book over a finger to keep his place.
"You've been unusually quiet all evening," he says. "You haven't turned that page in the last ten minutes."
Vernon glances down at the open textbook resting forgotten in his lap before letting out a slow breath. "I don't think she's very happy with me."
Joshua studies him carefully. "What makes you say that?"
"She's been leaving before I can catch up after class. She doesn't come to the library anymore, and every time I ask if she wants to study together, she already has somewhere else to be." He pauses, his brow drawing together slightly. "She even tried to give my scarf back."
Joshua's expression softens. "Did something happen between you two? Did you argue about anything?"
Vernon shakes his head. "Not that I know of. I've been trying to think if I said something that upset her, but... I can't remember anything."
Joshua leans back against the sofa. "Have you actually asked her what's wrong?"
"I asked if she'd been sleeping enough," Vernon replies earnestly. "Then I asked whether she'd skipped lunch because she hadn't been in the Great Hall. Yesterday I asked if she was coming down with a cold."
Joshua waits for him to continue. When nothing else comes, he can't help smiling.
"Vernon... those aren't really the questions I meant. They're thoughtful questions, just not the important ones."
A small crease appears between Vernon's brows, before he can reply, the portrait swings open.
Seungkwan steps into the common room carrying two oversized mugs of hot chocolate. He takes one look at Joshua's amused expression and Vernon's troubled one before raising an eyebrow. "...Why do I feel like I walked into something?"
Joshua gestures toward Vernon. "Him."
Seungkwan crosses the room, hands one mug to Vernon, and drops into the armchair opposite them. "Alright," he says. "Start from the beginning."
Vernon recounts the past week with the same straightforward honesty he applies to everything else.
Seungkwan's teasing smile slowly disappears and the room falls quiet. Joshua and Seungkwan exchange a glance. Neither of them seems particularly convinced by anything they've just heard.
Finally, Seungkwan lets out a small sigh. "I think she's trying to tell you something."
Vernon looks between the two of them. "What?"
Joshua gives him an apologetic smile. "I honestly don't know."
"And neither do you," Seungkwan adds. "You've been trying to figure it out by yourself all week."
Vernon lowers his eyes to the untouched mug warming his hands. "So... what am I supposed to do?"
Joshua answers first. "You stop guessing."
Seungkwan nods. "And you stop asking whether she's eaten lunch."
Joshua smiles too before leaning forward. "Just find her. Sit down with her, and ask what's been bothering her. Then actually listen to the answer."
Vernon is quiet for a long moment, turning the advice over in his mind. Finally, he nods.
"...Alright." He sets the mug down on the table beside him and rises to his feet. "I'll go talk to her."
❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈
He finds you, eventually, in the courtyard beneath the beech tree, the same place you used to meet every morning before all of this fell apart. You are sitting with your knees drawn up, your face turned toward the lake so that he will not immediately see you have been crying.
He does not say anything at first. He simply lowers himself down beside you, close but not quite touching, and waits patiently, just as he waits for most things.
You break the silence before he does. "I'm sorry," you say, your voice trembling from the very first word. "I know I've been avoiding you. I know that wasn't fair to you. I should've just talked to you instead of disappearing like that."
He watches you quietly. "Okay," he says after a moment, his voice careful, almost cautious. "Can you tell me why you were avoiding me?"
A watery laugh escapes you. "I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard you. A couple of weeks ago, in the corridor. You were talking to that Ravenclaw boy."
He nods slowly, trying to remember.
"You said you've got a girlfriend."
Something shifts across his face, surprise perhaps. Whatever it was, you could not quite tell.
"And I didn't hear anything after that," you continue before you lose your nerve. "I didn't need to."
Your voice catches slightly, as you try to get the words out before breaking into another sob. Well, here it goes "I've been in love with you for months, Vernon. I don't even know when it happened exactly. It just... did. Somewhere between spending time together, it stopped feeling like friendship to me."
You laugh weakly through your tears. "I thought maybe you felt something too... I thought maybe it meant something to you as it did to me."
"And then I heard you say that." You shake your head.
The words come more quietly now. "So I figured I just had imagined everything. I thought I'd built an entire relationship in my head while you already had someone else."
"I kept thinking maybe if I stayed away long enough..." You wipe hurriedly at your face "...eventually it would stop hurting."
You let out a shaky breath. “But it didn't."
"I just wanted you to know why I've been avoiding you. I know you have a girlfriend, and I won't make things awkward anymore. I'll stop borrowing your things. I'll stop following you around after class." You manage a small, miserable smile. "I'll leave you alone."
Vernon has gone very still. He looks at you for several seconds, his brow slowly drawing together. "Wait." His voice is quiet.
"I'm trying to understand."
You look up at him, sniffling as you keep wiping your cheeks.
"You heard me say I have a girlfriend”
"...Yes."
"That's why you've been avoiding me."
"Vernon, I don't think that's the important part."
"No," he says gently. "I think it is." He lets out a slow breath, almost sounding relieved. "We've been talking about two completely different things."
You stare at him. "What are you talking about?"
"When I said I've got a girlfriend..." He says it with certainty, walking closer to you, "I meant you."
For a long moment, neither of you says anything at all.
"What," you croak out, "are you talking about?"
He looks at you with genuine confusion now. It wasn’t the look of bewilderment of someone who has no idea what's happening but more like that of confusion of someone realizing an assumption he had quietly lived with for months had never been shared.
He glances down at his hands before looking back at you.
"I gave you my scarf because I hated seeing you shiver. I left my jumpers with you because you always looked prettier wearing them."
A small, almost embarrassed smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
"I walked you back to your dorm every night because I wanted to know you got there safely. I waited for you after class because I liked being the first person you looked for when the lesson ended. I made your tea every morning because I remembered how you liked it, and I saved you a seat because I couldn't really imagine sitting there without you."
"None of that means we were dating Vernon."
"What does it mean, then."
"It means we're friends," you say, though even to your own ears the word sounds thinner than it used to, worn down under the weight of everything he has just listed out. "Friends do all of that."
"Do they." He looks at you with genuine, earnest confusion, his brow furrowed as though you just told him the most absurd thing ever "I've never done any of that with a friend before."
"Vernon, you never asked me. None of it was ever official."
"I didn't think I needed to ask," he says quietly. "When people called you my girlfriend...I never corrected them because I thought you had already become that."
The silence between you stretches only for a moment. Then he smiles, small and sheepish. "I just didn't realize that I never actually told you."
You stare at him and your heart feels impossibly full.
"You are," you say, shaking your head through a laugh through the tears, "the biggest idiot I have ever met."
"I've been told that before."
"No," you murmur, stepping closer until there's barely any space left between you. "For someone so smart," you whisper, "you can be unbelievably stupid."
"So I've heard."
"Vernon."
"Hm?"
"Please...just shut up and kiss me already."
His answering smile is so warm it almost steals your breath before he ever touches you. He closes the distance slowly, giving you every chance to change your mind, and when his mouth finally meets yours it is not hurried at all. It is careful, almost searching at first, as though he wants to memorize the exact shape of the moment before he lets himself sink into it. One of his hands stays cradled against your jaw, his thumb moving in a slow, absent stroke along your cheekbone. The other slides to your waist, drawing you closer without any urgency behind it, only warmth. You feel the small, involuntary breath he takes when your fingers curl into his hair, feel him smile faintly against your mouth before he kisses you again, slower this time, like you had all the time in the world.
When you finally part, just barely, your foreheads still resting together, neither of you move to pull away. His breath is unsteady like you have never heard from him before, and you find that undoes you more than the kiss itself did.
When he pulls away, his forehead rests lightly against yours. “Will you officially be my girlfriend?”
You look at him properly then, the way you have not quite let yourself in eleven days, “I think this question was long overdue.”
He laughs then, properly this time, soft and warm, and something about hearing that sound after eleven miserable days makes your eyes sting all over again.
“Yes, I would love to be your girlfriend” You close your eyes, burrowing your face into his chest. For the first time in eleven long days, everything feels uncomplicated again.
The lake ripples quietly beyond the beech tree, and the last of the afternoon sunlight spills gold across the grass around you.
You stay there together until the air begins to cool, holding each other as though nothing had changed. Perhaps because, in Vernon's mind, nothing really had.
The only difference was that now, at last, the two of you understood the same story.
❈ ── 🍃 ── ❈
You come down to breakfast the next morning still half convinced you have dreamed the whole thing, until you spot Vernon already seated at the Hufflepuff table, saving you your usual place beside him like he always has, and your cheeks warm all over again at the sight of him.
You sit down. He does not look up from his toast right away, and then, without any ceremony at all, he slides half of it onto your plate, exactly the way he has done a hundred mornings before, and lays a peck on your cheek, "Morning, girlfriend."
You very nearly choke on your pumpkin juice for the second time this term. He glances up at last, and there it is again, that small, fond, faintly smug curve at the corner of his mouth.
Yunjin, across the table, does not even glance up from her eggs. "Finally," she says, to no one in particular, and returns to her breakfast as though nothing at all has changed, because as far as she and everyone else at Hogwarts are concerned, nothing has.
End.
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vernon is a waist grabber (canon), a wall leaner (basically canon), and a messy kisser (not canon but i'm drawing conclusions) and you cannot convince me otherwise.
yk it's a really good thing vernon wore the wig to the listening party bc if he had short hair with that fit he'd look like the evil kid from toy story. instead he looks like the hottest emo twink i've ever seen so i think we count this as a definite win.
📲 REASONS NOT TO FALL FOR HER ✶ Kim Mingyu | Masterlist
{ 💬⠀} You’ll be temporarily living with your brother and his best friend/roommate… who also happens to be your childhood crush: Kim Mingyu. What could possibly go wrong, right?
ⓘ content info ⸺ paring. mingyu x f!reader. genre | tags. smau, mini-series, brother's best friend, roommates to lovers, friend to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst. warnings. suggestive content, implied use of alcohol. status: in progress.
