Jongup was pacing around the living room of his flat, looking outside the window and trying to find some hint that Seungjun actually got his owl. Four days had passed and there was still no answer from him ever since they saw each other for the last time.
They haven’t really talked about the taller male visiting him at his hideout, but Jongup knew it would be nice to have him around the holiday season, and outside Hogwarts, but admittedly, he didn’t expect things to turn out that way – a family feud and him bolting out of the house, a backpack with a few of his most prized possessions and his owl.
A note had been sent to the other male, to an address he knew now because Seungjun had informed him and even though Jongup kinda sounded desperate enough to confide him that secret (the apartment’s location), he was just hoping he would see a familiar face he missed dearly.
But now, four days have passed and still, there was no answer from Seungjun. He felt stupid, he probably had something else to do, other people to visit or places to travel. Or maybe he just got lost in the muggle neighborhood and couldn’t find the address.
Jongup was restless with all his theories. And that was when he heard a knock on his door.
( / it's difficult to miss his sudden appearance in the hufflepuff common room, but he barely glances towards the looks he's getting. there's only on thing on his mind and when he spots his friend, his lips jut into a pout and he whines once hes close enough to be heard. ) "mickey, back scratches."
{ ` he doesn’t care about the you shouldn’t have given him the password and other such comments directed at him -- seungjun is his friend, and mikhail has always been especially generous about things he probably shouldn’t give away so easily. he’s scrolling through his phone, looking at news feeds, when said friend walks in, and it’s good that mikhail’s already settled in one of the bigger, comfortable couches in the common room. so he pats his lap, not even looking up, arms ready to receive the other boy to give him the desires scratches } are you just going to call me mickey forever?
[ txt ➞ seungjun ] didn’t really get a chance to tell you this but i think you’re really cute.[ txt ➞ seungjun ] oh what could have been amirite.
Σ late night texts.
[ txt ➞ seungjun ] you up?[ txt ➞ seungjun ] want to shake a few books off the shelves again?
Σ curious text.
[ txt ➞ seungjun ] hey, about that one time at the library…[ txt ➞ seungjun ] i just wanted to ask…[ txt ➞ seungjun ] … why?[ txt ➞ seungjun ] also what score did you get for the test?
Jongup paces around,the floor under his bare feet isn’t cold but he’s been feeling shivers sincethe phone call he got, two days ago. His eyes are on the streets, on the peoplethat find their way to the market, that’s surprisingly empty that afternoon. It’sprobably because of the sudden rain that decided to fall and that’s justanother reason for him to feel uneasy. Perhaps that could change his plans forthe day, perhaps everything will go wrong.
He looks down at histattooed hands and the designs inked on his skin still bring him memories offoolish rebellious days but it’s not enough to keep him from thinking ofsomething else; memories of Hogwarts and Durmstrang would lead him to othermemories, other people and that would just make him nervous again.
The noise outside,almost like a muffled thunder, comes from the corridor and Jongup knows exactlywhat it means. He can’t help but smile, his heart faltering one beat whenthings seem to be working fine untilnow. He feels like he could run before the doorbell even rings but he holdsback, keeps his pace.
But the sound doesn’tcome.
Three, ten, fifteen,twenty seven seconds and there’s silence outside and inside and Jongup is surehe’s deaf because of his blood pumping too loud in his ears.
It makes him go thereand open the door, wand in hand, somehow a mad expression gracing his face whenhe looks up at the other male, standing in front of him.
Seungjun is there,arms crossed and a sly smirk on his face, and he’s exactly as Jongup remembers.Tall, elegant, breathtaking. And he’s also very stupid for doing what he’s beendoing because he knows Jongup would just go there, he’s expecting that.
But it’s been almosttwo years since their graduation and they never spoke to each other since theyleft Hogwarts, the promises they made during stupid lonely nights were lost through the days and weeks and months and Jongupnever really forgave him for just disappearing. Because he’s been there foreverand Seungjun…wasn’t.
And even if he hadpromised to track him down, it looked like a disappearance spell had been castand there’s no sign of him until two days ago, which leads them to that moment,one that it seemed that Seungjun didn’t want to happen because he keeps being atease, keeps the distance.
Jongup is legit madright now.
“You didn’t knock-“
“I want to kiss you.”
They speak at thesame time and Jongup is taken aback by Seungjun’s voice, the thrill of kissinghim after all that time topping his previous feeling of being teased and hejust shakes his head, words escaping his lips and brain because there areimages of them kissing countless times during their Hogwarts years and Jongupis just too scared to move, the memory is too raw.
It’s not given himtime to process it better because it’s too sudden and his back is pressedagainst the wall and all he can process is hands and lips and the smell offresh cherries. His eyes are closed and then there’s the tongue against hislips, urging for the kiss to deepen, for the touch to be more real and it comescrashing down like waves against rocks.
Jongup is thenkissing Seungjun back and it’s like they were never apart because he tastes thesame, his warmth is still the same and it makes him so dizzy he needs to holdon to his shoulders, arms finding his waist as he brings him impossibly closer.
The kiss doesn’t stopeven when the two of them are gasping for air, it becomes more needy, greedyeven and Jongup is glad for the wall that’s holding his weight because hisknees would certainly give up any time now.
Unfortunately forhim, it’s Seungjun that parts their lips, small pecks followed by that infamoustongue against his lower lip are still present and slowly Jongup opens his eyesand finds the taller male staring at him with a dreamy expression.
“This won’t excuseyou for your disappearance.” He mutters.
Seungjun shrugs,kissing him again, slower this time.
Jongup felt too lazy to move from the Ravenclaw table, eyes focused on the book in front of him and his plate, where bits and pieces of food still remained almost untouched, as it was being refilled by the kitchen, that he didn’t even notice when people started to get up and leave. Surely a few of his housemates called him up and even some Gryffindors did the same but whenever he was into something like reading, he was dead to the world.
So it was probably because of that he only noticed someone was sat in front of him when the said person coughed, their knees brushing under the table, forcing Jongup to look up, his brows furrowing for a bit before he took a more relaxed posture, his glance retuning to the book in front of him.
He always had this weird feeling whenever he faced Seungjun, that he was missing something. For times he was so sure the male was trying to say something to him or even make some kind of revelation but he never did it; it was annoying, that feeling, and now, even if he wanted, he wasn’t going to be able to keep reading. Not when he was feeling eyes on him.
Or rather his plate.
“Did you lose something, Seungjun?”, he offered the question with a long stare, his fingers picking a piece of chicken breast, munching on it slowly. The smile started to form on his lips, perking even, when he noticed the obvious. “Are you hungry, my dear?”, he teased.
She’s eleven and she’s sitting in a compartment in the hogwarts express.
She’s not alone, no. She’s sharing the space with a boy with round cheeks and a camera in his hand. He reminds her of a puffskein, or one of those muggle animals she read called a hamster. She dislikes the idea of sharing a compartment, much less sharing it a muggleborn, so she sits as far away from him as possible, back straight, legs crossed and hands on her lap, a proper sitting posture her mother says.
She keeps him in her line of vision even if she doesn’t look at him, because muggles are dangerous, muggles aren’t supposed to have magic, muggles aren’t supposed to be sitting with her on the way to Hogwarts—
Her line of thought is cut off when said boy is talking again, something about him being called something and no he doesn’t smell like a farm and his robes are brand new. She discreetly rolls her eyes, lips tugging down in a frown when he offers her muggle snacks, saying he couldn’t afford buying snacks from honeydukes. He’s offering her homemade cookies, and out of formalities, she takes one. She doesn’t admit, but she’s flustered, so she quietly nibbles on the cookie and it tastes surprisingly good. He asks how is it and she snootily turns her head away, replies with “it’s decent.”
Just in time came the trolley filled with snacks and she felt a little compelled to show-off, and so she buys the lot and shows it off to him. He’s in awe, and she feels a smile tug on the corners of her lips, before he starts chattering again, “wow, you’ve got a lot of money. What are those? Are those frogs? Why is that one buzzing? Those are so colorful I wonder what combining that with this would taste like—”
She promptly shoves a chocolate in his mouth, an annoyed look on her face that resembles more of a pout than anything, and she says, “Shut up and eat.” He looks sheepish afterwards, apologizing, but still keeps chattering, and she guesses that once this ride is over, she’ll probably know where he lives, his mother’s name and his family background. He wipes the chocolate off his face with the back of his hand and this time her facial expression turns into one of disgust. She pulls out her napkin and her wand and with a flick of her wrist, the handkerchief is wiping what’s left of the chocolate off his face and next his hand,
“that’s disgusting. Stop it.” The whole train ride is spent with him talking nonstop, her shoving food in his mouth to make him to stop, and both of them slowly familiarizing with each other’s presence. When they arrive at their destination, she is quick to fix her robes, it’s best to look presentable, and before she opens the compartment door, she takes a good look at the boy who she spent the entire time with. It’s probably the last time she’ll see him, because she has no plans in getting to know other people.
“What’s your name, farm boy?”
“Cody.”
“I’m Veneris.” With that, she leaves and doesn’t turn back.
“i hate the idea of you.” she breathes, tasting the earthy tart of the potion and sour scorn. her stomach twists with unease, familiar with the notion of expressing her thoughts and feelings but not of this level. “what you stand for—people like you—what you believe to be right, it’s—” she struggles to find the right words, pushing past prejudice of a woman she knows all too well. her mother used to encourage a lie here and there, promising convenience within trickery—and mère would lie, lie, all the way into the arms of men, teachers, parents, boys.
( and at the center still stands her, ankle deep in lies she’s forced to upkeep for her mother’s sake under the pressing influence of sharp nails digging into soft skin.read: i’m not her daughter, my father is dead, i was adopted—lies spoken till her mouth felt raw and foreign, tasting metallic and bile all at once. )
“—fucked up.” the hufflepuff settles, lips downturned.
“i don’t like it, i told you this before. i don’t trust you,” she struggles to keep the finality in those words, but her lips part, unable to keep her tongue still. “but i don’t really hate you.”
here her heart tightens in the face of truth — in the face of mental hurdles she can’t climb. in the face of bonds she willingly tears apart when her personal criteria isn’t met, lovely face bold, mouth determined — but perhaps not as apathetic as usual.
