( / with his hands shoved into his suit pockets, seungjun leans up against the arm of a lounge in the ravenclaw common room. his fingers absentmindedly fiddling with the white corsage -- some muggle thing that he had read about once. girls liked them and jiyeon was a girl. ( and seungjun was lucky that she had agreed to go with him ). or at least, that was how he felt when he’d thought about it, head tilting to the side as he glanced up towards the stairway for the girls dorm. he knew they took longer than he did; but he just put on what she’d told him to wear and considered himself ready. ) “jiyeon! how much longer?” ( / his lips pushed into a pout, brown orbs drifting back down to the white fabric flowers at his fingertips. trying to ignore the probing question in the back of his thoughts over whether his estelle was going, if she had a date. ) “you already look pretty. let’s go. before the food gets eaten.”
( / he crinkled his nose as he stared at his friend and date for the evening, letting her pick and decide everything for him. there had been the brush of his grandmothers quill bestowing money from his inheritance to wear something more decent than those ripped jeans and sweaters that he was had in every shade of blue imaginable; something better than the black leather jackets and the white shirts; something that held his status. and as soon as that had trickled into his hands, he’d surrendered to his childhood friend. because if he didn’t, he would have left the money to collect dust in his side cupboard and turned up in the first clean piece of clothing he had in the wardrobe. and that thought only made him wonder when he’d last done his laundry. )
ten years old and counting, seungjun peered around the corner into the lounge room.
he could see his grandparents, sharing a cup of tea and fruits with the other adults. the type of event children were not to be a part of; the seen not heard mantra his grandmother had for him, or in his grandfathers words, neither seen or heard would be best. his caramel hues innocently gaze over everyone’s backs, waiting one more breath before he darted across the landing of the stairs and hurriedly scampered up the next stairs to get to the third level of his grandparents home. each step maneuvered with as light a step as possible, not wanting them to hear him. the pictures of his family and their decedents up on the wall, looking down on him in curiousity or scorn. not that seungjun paused to stick his tongue out at them as he usually did.
he had things to do. people to see.
his bedroom door at the far end of the hall was opened and snapped shut quickly behind him. one last look over his shoulder before he bee-lined for the rumpled curtains, the toes of sneakers sticking out from under them and the familiar face of his friend, jiyeon. his fingers tugging the curtains out as he slipped behind them, heavy fabric falling down in a waterfall of dark blues and the sunset blushed pink in the sky outside. “jiyeon, i got them!” seungjun hissed, eyes crinkled with a boyish pride when she looked over at him.
the fear that had had her asking if this was okay, if they should--wouldn’t they get in trouble?--had disappeared from her features now. and seungjun so proudly declaring that he wouldn’t ever get caught; he’d done it a hundred times now. he was a professional.
her eyes lit up, another source of satisfaction for seungjun. back home with his mother, he’d never had a friend. the two years that he’d lived reading books, jumping on the same couches and finding new ways to scare the delivery man -- he’d never known the wonder of having someone to play with.
or to steal snacks for.
as that was what he had done, his hand opening up to reveal the two packs of chocolate frogs that he’d stolen from the kitchen. a feat that meant going down to the second floor, skirting across the landing without being seen and climbing out the second story window to get down to the patio -- from there it was a straight shot into the cupboards next to the fridge to get access to the jar his grandparents believed was out of reach for the ten year old seungjun. “i told you i would keep my promise!” he asserted, holding out one for her to take and letting the currents ripple with his movements. in his mind, he was certain that no matter what happened, he would keep his promise to do anything that jiyeon asked of him
seungjun waited patiently, brown orbs fixed on jiyeon as she fiddled with the pack; a successful mission meant that she would smile and he was determined to see one flutter onto her lips. not that he was particularly good at restraining himself, a childhood of doing as he wanted and when he wanted. the young boy leaned over, pressing a kiss to the girls forehead and grinning boyishly to himself as he slipped back, shoulders finding the glass. his eyes down at his own packet, unfolding the cardboard to gain access to the treat he’d determinedly stolen.
“what was that for?” jiyeon’s question popped in the air with shock, not seungjun had an answer,
“because i’m your oppa! that’s why!”
the suddenness of the curtains being pulled back jerked seungjun’s gaze up to see his grandmother, and giving the chance for his chocolate frog to hop and land between the womans feet. his eyes wide; a boy caught.
brianna myoui is hardly a dramatic type, but right now, she is sure she is going to be bloody cursed. what kind of scot forgets to bring an umbrella with them? if in her hometown there were only a few natives who were caught off guard when the drops started pouring, in the highlands that number became almost nonexistent, she was sure of that much. and, outwardly, the slytherin had just entered that select, pitiful group.
for a long minute she observes the water coming down, while standing unsure in an excuse for a haven, biting on her cheek. what’s up with rain on late november? as far as she was concerned, by now, the grounds should start being covered with layers of constant snow. not that it would be any better, she thinks, with a slight grimace to nothing special but the fact of how troublesome it would be for her back in the dorms.
for some unknown reason -- which is a rule today, apparently -- she also can’t remember the spell who would assure she wouldn’t get wet. she looks at her feet, tapping her thumb on her pale wand and lingering on that for a little longer, until she hears steps approaching. she catches a glimpse of blonde when she lefts her head, the other’s own locks remarkably beautiful--and safely covered by the shelter of the same object brianna had forgotten about.
oh, how would she prefer to stay on her own and not risk some mindless chit chat, but the rain is thickening and the last thing she wants right now is to catch a cold over some season’s end rain. “hey,” the slytherin had decided to call for the ravenclaw, seemingly. they were on the same year, right? but of course bree, a disaster with paying attention to anyone and even caring to remember their names, didn’t know what she was named. “do you mind giving me a ride?”
baekhyun is fond of the rain, but not the feeling that comes with it. usually he would take a walk or preoccupy himself in a book whenever nobody’s around to keep him company. but if there is someone, he’d be a lot talkative and clingier than usual. depending on how much he trust the person he might ask for a quiet time for the two of them instead.
it wasn’t the first time that jiyeon ended up getting whacked by a ball ( who let these kids play ball in the hallway in the first place? ), but she couldn’t even lie about how it was nothing because this actually hurt. like a lot. there was a sting in her head that was refusing to leave, and she could swear she was seeing birds flying around. or maybe they were just white dots.
whatever they were, they were floating around in front of her, and she could feel her knees slowly growing weak. her left hand stayed wrapped around her books, but her right hand was busy trying to massage her own head, hoping that the ringing in her ears would go away. perhaps the multiple hits to her head were finally affecting her.
before she could even stop herself, her knees have given out on her, causing her to fall on the floor. the sound her books made on the flour were deafening, but she could barely hear it. a student approached her, dressed in green and silver, and he seemed to be saying something, but she couldn’t exactly hear what he was saying.
“excuse me? i can’t hear you.”
Jaewon isn’t really someone who’d be looking for trouble, never the rowdy one, but always the silent killer. But today seems a little different. Competitiveness never fades from the lineage of the Jungs.
So, when a ball passes not through him but to him, he catches, lips cornering up into his wicked one-sided grin as if the world is their playground-- an understatement, it’s just the hallway that turns into their play ring.
They play, like kids that they shouldn’t be. The ball passes through different hands, the classroom is rowdy and maybe, the whole floor is too. Shoes against the floor, he throws the ball back, but the second he does, the ball shoots against a stranger, a passerby who holds no participation to the game.
He hurries, finding pale locks weaving against pale skin.
“Are you okay?”
She obviously isn’t but he asks for formality anyway. Has she gone deaf? he thinks, hope that she hasn’t because wizard insurance do not cover things like this.
Instead of talking again, he holds a hand out, wonders when was the last time he did too.
the bridge of seungjun’s nose crinkled, dropping his hand down to curl on his ankle and on the cuff of the denim. they were settled in the ravenclaw common room, his back against the couch and her seated behind him. he didn’t know how a childhood promise to do anything and everything with her ended up with a face mask on. this was not he imagined it would lead to, and he pouted as he straightened his head up in an attempt to prove her wrong. “i’m not fussing. my neck hurts,” and he rubbed at the strained muscles in an attempt to sell it. at his height, he spent far too much time looking down and hunched over tables reading.
still, his fingers drifted up, trying to feel the state of his hair and he grazed the edge of a hair clip. this was what oblivate existed. he was going to have to use it on the whole ravenclaw common room to save his pride. “and why. why are you braiding my hair? it’s too short,” his low voice was edged with a whine, turning his head to look over his shoulder at her and tried to appeal to her better judgement. long slender digits scratching at the nape of his neck. if they were alone, if they were tucked away in some bathroom, he wouldn’t have minded. but girls bathrooms were for girls and boys were for boys, and seungjun didn’t think a wig would work on him.
“being pretty is too difficult,” he complains in a breath, beginning to rock in his spot.
the long awaited weekend is finally coming, and guess what jung raymond jinyoung does during those days? studying, yeah, as if -- as much as he keep telling his parent in letter that yes, mom, i’m going to the library even during weekends too; he actually vowed to himself to never touch a single book (or potion, or anything related to studying, for that matter) and stay away from responsibilities until it’s monday again.
so here he is, (not really) sneaking into the empty classroom while carrying around his guitar (in which everyone seems to keep an eye on him as he passed by, as if peoples aren’t familiar with the concept of muggle music instrument).
not that he can’t just stay in the common room and played a song or two for the whole house, he’s fully capable of doing so, but jinyoung just want some peace time for himself and his guitar--and clearly, the common room doesn’t grant him that.
the room is (always) empty by the time he stepped in. the place reeks of dust and jinyoung coughed at first, but the male is still smart enough to pull out his wand from his pocket to cast scourgify before sitting by the middle row bench, his acoustic guitar sitting by his lap.
he took the time to tune the guitar (because some bloody gryffindor just had to play around with his guitar and mess up the whole tuning), each strum resonates within the room and he’s suddenly focused. it took him a good five minutes before he start playing his own rendition of lee juck’s it’s fortunate.
