the book on herbology was open on jihoon’s knees, his eyes darting up to the seventh year who was trying to help explain what was confusing him. even with their help, it made so little sense to the muggle-born sixth year. for eleven years of his life, he thought plants were boring things that they were forced to water at school as a form of punishment. now they had lives, now they squealed and screeched, now they had properties and needed to be taken care of with a certain amount of knowledge. none of which jihoon was able to ingest and make sense of on his own. but he was trying, and after hours of forcing himself to swallow down, he would get it.
his only wish was that the seventh year boy would stop speaking in a monotone that made jihoon’s gaze drift from where it should be and slip over the grounds that were around them. a soft puff of hot breath dying in wisps as he saw a familiar figure in the distance, the rigid shoulders and the heaviness of his steps tingling a discomfort through jihoon. something was wrong.
“i’m sorry, i have to go. i’ll be right back,” jihoon blurts out through the middle of the seventh years tangent about the first time he’d come across some plant and had nearly gotten himself killed in the process of trying to identify it. a clear look of being startled on his face as jihoon hastily gathered up his things, closing the book with his notes tucked into the pages and bowing his head in urgency of his apology. every action too quick for the drone of a seventh year that only managed out a confused ‘what’ once jihoon was five steps away from him. “i’ll be right back. i’m sorry,” the hufflepuff’s apology was once again hung in the air, pulling the book tightly to his chest as he began to hastily dash into the grassy knolls and feeling the cold air soak into the hem of his jeans as he hurriedly tried to catch up with the ravenclaw boy.
the sight of the approaching forbidden forest set an uneasiness in the pit of jihoon’s stomach, trying to quicken his pace as he sees nikolas step over into where they shouldn’t have been going. “nik!” he called out, trying to get the others attention, arm swinging at his side now and book curled at his fingers. every breath puffed in a hot haste when finally managed to catch up with the ravenclaw. the few steps fumbled as he tries once again. “nik! we shouldn’t be here,” jihoon hisses automatically, arm stretched out and empty hand clasping at the ravenclaw’s arm. “nik. what’s wrong?”
nik seethes with anger, it clouds his vision and paints everything in a murky haze of red. he knows that what he’s doing is utterly stupid. a memory of a skinned knee, a splash of blood, and his mother’s calming words is a strong reminder, nikolas you can’t listen to them. they just want to see you riled up so much that you fail. the best thing to do is ignore them. for once she uses the language of their homeland, it’s mean to be comforting but instead it sounds just as sharp and antagonizing as greek does to his sensitive ears. it was one of the few times she had visited his grandparents villa before she was taking off for another part of the world, her mind on adventure and not on her child.
nik feels the cold and the exhaustion down to his bones. his heart is racing and his hand clenches so tightly he feels as though he might break his wand at any moment. the dark of the woods ahead of him is a bit terrifying,
any other time he wouldn’t be stupid enough to set foot past the treeline. but he’s tired of being scared. he gets a few footfalls inside, his anger still clouds his vision and senses that he doesn’t hear his name being called at first. it isn’t until he hears it right behind him. the tone is familiar and he knows right away that it’s jihoon, his timber is comforting enough to him on most days where his heart feels three sizes too small for his chest. but right now it does nothing for him.
instead he feels the slightest bit of anxiety and his anger flare when the familiar touch wraps around his wrist. “jihoon, you need to let go of me right now.” it’s a warning, as he continues to clamor through the thick bramble bushes, feeling them cling to his clothes. “I don’t want to talk about it.” nik barely has a hold on his emotions, talking about it means that he most likely would do nothing but cry. “just leave me alone.” he shakes off the other’s grasp easily before taking off in a sprint, his footfalls unsteady and loud against the dirt and frost covered foliage.
