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Chapter Text

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“Beom!” shouted a skinny, black-haired boy, who was trying the best he possibly could to keep up with his older brother, despite his short legs. “Beom, wait, stop!” 

“What?” the older boy shouted back, walking fast a few steps ahead. He was taller, yet just as slim as the younger.

Strictly in terms of facial features, they didn’t look particularly alike. But it was obvious, even from afar, that the two young boys came from the very same bloodline. They shared the same aristocratic good looks, the same haughty demeanour, the same arrogant gait — far too intimidating and sombre for children their age.

With hair as dark as the night sky and eyes as grey as razor blades, contrasting so vividly with their utterly pale skin, they certainly stood out amongst the neighbourhood kids.

The Muggle kids. 

The kids they were not supposed to interact with.

However, Beomgyu seemed to believe that all rules were made to be broken.

“Mother told us a million times not to stray too far from the house,” said the younger, panting heavily.

“Mother won’t know,” Beomgyu replied flatly. “Unless you’re planning on telling her again.”

“I’m not!” the little boy shouted, sounding as though he’d taken offense. “Where are you headed, anyway?”

“It’s always fun messing with the kids at the church,” said Beomgyu with a proud smirk. “All I do is stand there, and they look at me like I’m a ghost or something. This time I’m trying to turn one of the stupid fat boys’ hair red—”

“Wait, have you done this before?”

Beomgyu shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, not the hair thing.”

“So you sneak out of the house alone to come to… church?” the younger boy muttered. “We’re not supposed to go anywhere near Muggle churches, Beom. Mother says they’re dangerous. Church folk hunt us down.”

“What’s life without a little danger,” Beomgyu said, flaunting all the wisdom of an eleven-year-old boy.

“So you consciously take the risk of exposing our kind because you’re bored. Very smart.”

“Seonggyu — I’m not daft,” Beomgyu stated matter-of-factly as he stopped walking and turned to his brother, his arms dropping heavily to his sides as if he had been petrified. “I do nothing, I just stare at them like this.”

And then he glared at Seonggyu dead in the eye, a piercing gaze that seemed to cut straight through the poor boy’s soul.

“Bloody hell,” murmured Seonggyu, unable to stare back for too long. “Can’t we just go back?”

“Oh, don’t be such a girl,” Beomgyu teased, rolling his eyes as he marched towards the small neighbourhood park. The church's bell towers could be seen peeking through the trees across the field.

“I’m not a girl!”

Determined to stop his brother at all costs, Seonggyu trailed right behind, but his attempts to get Beomgyu to come back home failed quite miserably. Beomgyu was stubborn. Once he had made up his mind about something, it was nearly impossible to talk him out of it.

The two boys made their way to the church, one of them very reluctantly so, careful not to get too close at first. Hiding behind a tree trunk in the safety of the park, they waited patiently for the Muggles to start coming out. Beomgyu knew for a fact — Mother had told him — that some sort of religious event took place there every Tuesday morning, where many strange people gathered together to worship an imaginary entity. 

Mother called them ‘Cult’.

“They’re scary,” Seonggyu grumbled.

“They’re pathetic,” Beomgyu snapped, his eyes fixed on the church’s front door. “Setting up witch-hunting organisations as if they could actually overpower any of us…”

“Well, they can overpower me. Let’s go home.”

“You can go home, you little chicken. I’m staying.”

“What are you trying to prove, exactly?” 

“Prove? I’m just looking to spice things up a bit before I leave tomorrow.”

Seonggyu sighed heavily. Beomgyu’s leaving for Hogwarts was clearly still a sore point.

Suddenly, the door creaked open and several people stepped out, chatting and laughing loudly. The Choi brothers couldn’t make out what was being said, but that didn’t matter much. It was the children they had been waiting for; the ones who would always hang out together at the park after a Cult meeting whilst their parents were too busy talking about whatever it was that Muggles usually talked about.

“Here comes that pig-looking bastard who called me Devil along with his little gang,” said Beomgyu, bearing a smirk of utter satisfaction. “How can Muggles be so ugly? Is it a requirement or what? It’s honestly sad. Wouldn’t you want to kill yourself if you looked like that?”

“You call me ugly twice a week and I still want to be very much alive,” Seonggyu replied, unfazed.

“But you’re not the Muggle kind of ugly, you’re just regular ugly.”

“That’s lovely, Beom. Means a lot.”

Beomgyu paid no mind to his brother’s sarcasm, for he was far too busy revealing himself to the gang of unbelievably ugly Muggle kids. He stepped out from behind the trunk and leaned against it with an arrogant, taunting stance. He waited for one of the kids to spot him and point him out to the others, just so he could turn his back on them and walk back into the park nonchalantly. 

“Hurry up, let’s move. They’re coming for us.”

“What?” Seonggyu gasped, suddenly alarmed, racing to catch up with his brother.

“Yeah. Just like I’d predicted.”

“And now what?”

“Now we improvise.”

“We improvise? Have you even thought this through? Where’s your wand—” 

“Blimey, Seonggyu, you worry too damn much.”

“Hey, witch!” a high-pitched voice called out from the church’s direction.

The Muggle kids had made their way into the park, out of the sight of the grown-ups. The Choi brothers turned to face them, Seonggyu standing a few steps ahead.

“I told you not to come back here!” the pig-faced boy shouted, clenching a fist so hard that his knuckles turned white in a matter of seconds. “And now you brought another one of your unholy kind with you!”

Beomgyu remained silent. 

Seonggyu glanced over the shoulder at his brother, who was staring at the group of boys exactly as he had said he would; he looked rather cold and spooky under the shade of the trees, almost undead. No wonder at least three of the Muggle children had been shaking ever since he laid eyes on them.

“You’ll burn in Hell just like they say, witch,” another boy spat viciously.

“Yeah, burn in Hell, you freak!”  

And then a chant of every Satan-related slur in existence followed. 

Seonggyu was absolutely terrified. Beomgyu was completely unbothered.

Then he noticed something that made his eyes twitch with fear for the first time. The whole gang appeared to be holding something in their hands, something small enough to fit inside clenched fists.

“Let’s see if you freaks will ever come back here after today…” the pig-looking boy threatened in a low, intimidating voice, and then commanded loudly to the others, “Hit ‘em!”

It all happened in a blink of an eye.

Instinctively, Beomgyu rushed towards his brother to protect him from whatever was coming at them, but he couldn’t reach him in time. The last thing he saw before shutting his eyes was, at least, a dozen pebbles flying straight towards them, about to hit their faces and bodies. All they could do was wait for the inevitable pain — but it actually never came.

For a brief moment, an eerie silence hung in the air. Not even the tree leaves seemed to dare move an inch. Then, loud screaming filled the brothers’ ears, followed by muffled footsteps retreating across the grass and multiple voices shouting “Witchcraft!” like an off-pitched choir.

Beomgyu turned to look at his young brother, who still hadn’t moved, his eyelids tightly pressed together and both arms covering his face like a shield. Then something else caught Beomgyu’s attention: the pebbles were hovering in mid-air, as though they had been magically frozen. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Seonggyu…” he whispered, feeling exhilaration fill his veins by the second. “You… you stopped the rocks!”

Puzzled, Seonggyu opened his eyes slowly, nearly choking when he finally realised what had happened.

“What?” he mumbled, staring at the floating stones in disbelief. “I did… that?”

“You did! Bloody brilliant!” Beomgyu spread his arms wide and went in for a full-on hug, lifting Seonggyu off the ground as he jumped in excitement. “Seonggyu, I knew you were not a squib! I knew it!”

Seonggyu pushed him away harshly and retorted in a displeased tone, “You said you were a hundred percent sure I was a squib.”

“Well — what matters is that you’re not! This calls for a celebration, don’t you think? You just did your first ever magic trick!”

“I think we should go home,” Seonggyu stood his ground, stomping his way back to 12 Grimmauld Place.

Beomgyu kept pace effortlessly.

“Oh, piss off,” he scoffed. “Why are you so upset? You totally had them shitting their trousers! Those nasty kids will think twice before messing with us again.”

“No, you were the one messing with them in the first place. Personally, I want to stay the hell away from Muggles! They are ruthless, dangerous, and vile—”

“You’re boring.”

“Whatever, Beom.”

“Oh, come on, it was fun!”

Seonggyu shook his head with disappointment and ignored Beomgyu all the way to the Choi family’s front step. He clearly didn’t agree that having rocks thrown at his face was anything remotely close to fun.

“Go on, then!” Beomgyu shouted, his face going sulky as he folded his arms across his chest and watched Seonggyu disappear into the house, slamming the door shut. “Cry-baby,” he muttered under his breath.

Beomgyu looked around, not sure what to do next. He had already had his fair share of adrenaline for the day, but wasn’t willing to call it quits just yet. The idea of going back inside held no appeal whatsoever, especially with his brother being such a pain in the arse. Loneliness and boredom were two things Beomgyu simply couldn’t tolerate, and heading home promised both.

Therefore, he strolled down Grimmauld Place absentmindedly, letting fate decide where he’d wind up. He turned left, and then right, and then turned left again, until he found himself on a charming street a few blocks away from his house. It was different from anything he’d ever seen. It had life, in a way. All the buildings were painted in vibrant, beautiful colours, unlike the monochromatic, funereal ones he was used to, and actual people walked, talked, and sat at small tables neatly placed along the sidewalks. Perhaps, that was what a Muggle version of the Diagon Alley looked like, Beomgyu thought.

He walked a few more steps along the least packed sidewalk and stopped at a shop he found particularly intriguing. The wide window displayed countless squares, each one different from the other, most of them showing pictures of either people or landscapes. Beomgyu couldn’t, for the life of him, wrap his head around the fact that Muggle pictures did not move. How mind-boggling was that?

Immersed in the overstimulating sight, Beomgyu barely noticed when someone stepped out of the shop, the soft chime of the doorbell nothing more than a hazy buzz in his ears.

“Are you going to just stand there, or are you coming inside?”

The throaty voice snapped Beomgyu out of his trance, and he tilted his head towards its source; it was a man — an elderly man, presumably, judging by the wrinkles and the grey taking over most of his sparse hair. Beomgyu inspected him from head to toe. He was rather tall, all skin and bones, and dressed in mundane clothes. His round, thin, dusty gold spectacles made his blue eyes look larger. Very Muggle-ish, although he did remind Beomgyu of the Gringotts Bank goblins. 

Beomgyu pointed his nose at the funny squares. “What are those?”

The man blinked a couple of times, momentarily puzzled. “They’re records, of course,” he said, his nearly white, bushy eyebrows drawing together.

“Records of what?”

“Well — music records, kid,” the old man explained kindly, though a hint of genuine confusion coloured his tone.

“Weird,” Beomgyu muttered. 

“What’s weird about that?”

“Why’d you put music inside squares? Makes no sense.”

“It really doesn’t.” The man smiled fondly at the boy’s innocence. “But there's more than one way to skin a cat — isn’t that how the saying goes?”

Beomgyu’s eyes widened, pure shock washing over his face.

“Sir, why would you want to skin a cat?”

“It’s a figure of speech. It simply means there are multiple ways of doing the same thing, my boy. In this case, listening to music.”

Beomgyu relaxed slightly. “I see. We have a radio at the house. It plays music.”

“That’s a whole different way of listening to music, innit? With records, it’s more… flexible, let’s say. You can pick the track you feel like listening to at the moment.”

“What’s a track?”

The old man sighed in defeat. “Come in,” he said, inviting him in with a hand gesture and holding the door open.

Beomgyu hesitated for a moment, half-expecting to find dead cats inside — or worse, that the man might try to skin him instead, leaving his family wondering where he'd vanished to. But curiosity eventually got the better of him. With a deep breath, he stepped through the doorway. The bell chimed again as the door clicked shut, and the noisy street faded into silence.

The man showed Beomgyu around the shop. It was quite a large room, however, the shelves and furniture, stacked with thousands and thousands of records, made the place feel small and cramped. It was complete chaos. But the man swore blind that all of the records were thoroughly organised by genre, period and alphabetically. The walls were barely visible; they were covered with what looked like posters, which depicted the faces of weird people singing and holding musical instruments. Band posters, the man explained. Pretty much like the Holyhead Harpies one Seonggyu had in his room, except his poster moved like it was supposed to.

Beomgyu remained quiet throughout the tour, for his brain was overflowing with so many questions that he found himself unable to utter anything remotely coherent. Fortunately, the man picked up on the spark of curiosity in his eyes, and very few of his silent questions were left unanswered.

“May I ask what that is, young lad?” the old man inquired, pointing a finger at the small diamond brooch on Beomgyu’s black linen suit. 

Beomgyu glanced down at it and touched it instinctively.

“Oh, this is my guiding star,” he replied casually. However, the man didn’t seem to catch up, so he explained further, “Everyone in my family is given one or more stars at birth. Not actually given, though. It’s more like a representative star, if you will. Our guiding stars are chosen just as carefully as our names. This is mine.” 

“Which one is it?”

“Sirius, of course — the brightest star in the night sky,” Beomgyu said matter-of-factly, as if that were the most obvious answer in the world.

“Naturally,” the man agreed. “My family missed out on that tradition, I’m afraid.”

“Then who do you talk to when you're feeling alone?”

“To God, of course.”

“I don't believe in God,” Beomgyu spat.

The man offered him a gentle smile.

“I respect you,” he said calmly. “What is your name, little fellow?”

“Mother says I can’t tell my name to strangers,” Beomgyu replied, a hint of arrogance in his tone. His mother’s rules applied when he found them convenient.

“Well — I’m going to have to call you Starboy, then.”

The man sighed theatrically and turned around, walking away from Beomgyu and leaving him behind with a puzzled expression. Were Muggles always this strange?

“Won’t you come along, Starboy?” the very peculiar man asked from about five metres away.

Beomgyu wasn’t sure he liked the nickname, but he accepted the invitation to the back of the shop nonetheless. The man picked an orangish, cartoonesque square from a shelf labelled “Personal Favourites” and pulled a big, dark, circle-shaped object from inside — the actual record, which Beomgyu had learned was called a “vinyl”. What followed was too much for Beomgyu’s little wizard brain to fully grasp: the man placed the vinyl on a wooden table, pierced it with a needle, and then music began pouring out of a giant golden flower.

“This one’s a classic,” said the man, looking far too pleased with himself as he began to sway awkwardly to the song's catchy rhythm. “Have you ever heard it?”

“Uh…” Beomgyu furrowed his brows. He’d never been exposed to such an unusual combination of sounds before. “No.”

He fixed his steely-grey eyes on the hypnotising spin of the record as the song drew to a close and faded out. It was an overall cheerful tune, yet there was an underlying aura to it that made Beomgyu feel hauntingly melancholic, in a way he couldn’t quite explain. The man lifted the needle from the record and glanced down at him, eyes expectant, as if waiting for a review or something.

“The lyrics make no sense,” the boy muttered. “Who is Starman?”

“See, the thing with music… It doesn’t always have to make sense, dear.” The man adjusted his posture as though he was about to start a lecture. “Sometimes you just feel it. It’s open to interpretation, so Starman can be whoever you want him to.”

Intriguing creatures, Muggles were. Beomgyu didn’t remember Celestina Warbeck’s biggest hit “You Stole My Cauldron But You Can't Have My Heart” being open to interpretation at all.

“It sounds nice,” Beomgyu said with a heartfelt nod. “Feels nice.”

“He’s the genius behind this masterpiece,” the man said joyfully, pointing to the largest poster on the wall across from them. It showed a red-haired, odd-eyed man with curious, lightning-shaped orange makeup and a bare torso — staring straight into Beomgyu’s soul.

“He is… well… rather odd…”

The man let out a tender laugh. “Aren’t we all?”

“I feel pretty normal myself,” Beomgyu retorted with a playful grin. He then hopped onto a stool beside the giant record-playing flower, legs swinging freely as he demanded, “Play it again.”

Guided by the delighted man’s hand, the needle found the vinyl again, and “Starman” blessed their ears for the second time. After showing Beomgyu how to work the gramophone — quite an odd name for a giant flower — the man left him to his own devices and excused himself to assist a customer, announced by the soft chime of the bell. Beomgyu played “Starman” at least five more times, and by the third round, he’d already memorised some of the lyrics, quietly singing along to a few lines.

After a while, the man returned to Beomgyu’s company and checked his pocket watch.

“My goodness me, it’s nearly lunchtime!” he exclaimed, and Beomgyu’s heart nearly came to a full stop. “Would you like to join—” 

“Oh, no! Mother’s gonna kill me!” Beomgyu cried, jumping off the stool so abruptly that he almost knocked it over. “I gotta go!”

The joyful look on the man’s wrinkled face melted into a faint frown. “That’s a shame. Let me see you out, then.”

“No need! I have to hurry.” Beomgyu raced towards the exit, leaving the poor old man struggling to keep up. “Thank you for your time, sir! Goodbye! Oh, and Happy Christmas!”

“But it’s August 31st!” the confused man shouted, his hoarse voice sounding even rougher from a distance. 

“I know! See ya!”

With a little wave, Beomgyu darted out the door. He’d barely run for ten seconds when a sudden realisation struck him, forcing him to turn around and backtrack towards the shop. The man was standing behind the glass door and there was a hint of sadness in his eyes, but his face instantly lit up at the sight of Beomgyu's return.

“It’s Beomgyu!” the boy called out from the other side of the door. 

“I beg your pardon?” the man shouted back, his voice muffled by the physical barrier between them.

“My real name! It’s Beomgyu!”

The man beamed and gave him a thumbs up before waving goodbye, and the boy returned the wave with a soft smile before finally heading back home. Along the way, Beomgyu couldn’t take his mind off the old Muggle man, the cosy record shop, and his newfound favourite song. 

In all honesty, he had never cared that much for music. He barely even thought about it, save for the piano lessons his mother had forced upon him and his brother throughout their childhood. Muggle radio stations were strictly forbidden at home, and the songs that typically played on wizarding stations had never appealed to him at all — he did groove to the Weird Sisters occasionally, though, but that was mostly because his brother enjoyed them. 

Now, however, there was this shy little spark in his heart. Beomgyu didn’t know it then, but that chance encounter with a stranger on an ordinary Tuesday had changed him deeply and forever.

Upon reaching the doorstep, he realised something else, and this time a bit too late: he never got the man’s name. That incredibly kind man had given Beomgyu his time, treated him with such warmth, yet Beomgyu hadn’t shown even the slightest interest in him in return. Ashamed, he promised himself that, as soon as he came back home for Christmas holidays, he’d pay the man a visit and make up for his impoliteness.

Beomgyu rushed up the stairs, eager to tell Seonggyu all about his new Muggle friend, but no sooner had the thought crossed his mind than it hit him just how absurd that would sound; Beomgyu of all people making a Muggle friend? Spending time with one, and actually enjoying it? There was no way. Letting out a heavy sigh, he resigned himself to the inevitable conclusion: that was a secret he’d take to the grave.

Mother scolded him for being late, as expected, so he ate his lunch in silence and spent the rest of the day in his room, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. Every so often, Beomgyu caught himself humming the melody of “Starman”, replaying the song in his head on loop, in awe of how special it made him feel. Now that he understood the reference, ‘“Starboy” no longer felt like such a tacky nickname. 

Late at night, once the euphoria of the day had finally faded, Beomgyu drifted off to sleep. It was past midnight when a few knocks on the door startled him awake, and he might have feigned sleep in annoyance, had he not recognised the familiar secret knock he and his brother shared.

“Come in,” Beomgyu grumbled, his face half-buried in the pillow, not bothering to turn over to look at Seonggyu as he opened the door. “What do you want?”

“Can I sleep with you?” Seonggyu asked, his voice betraying that he hadn’t got any sleep yet.

“Mm-hmm. Nightmare?”

His brother didn’t reply. Instead, he simply jumped onto the mattress and crawled under the blankets, claiming the empty spot beside Beomgyu, who barely moved. The two of them lay in silence for quite a while, and just as Beomgyu was about to drift off, Seonggyu pulled him back to consciousness.

“I don’t want you to go,” his brother said, his voice so low that Beomgyu wasn’t sure whether he’d wanted to be heard.

Still, Beomgyu turned to face him, only to find Seonggyu lying on his back, eyes on the ceiling — just as he had spent the afternoon himself.

“Why not? It’ll be fun.”

Seonggyu exhaled, nervously fiddling with his fingers. “I don’t wanna be alone.”

“Mother and Father aren’t going, though. Neither is Kreacher.”

“It’s not the same thing, idiot. I mean without you.”

“I’ll be back for Christmas.”

“Christmas is four months away,” Seonggyu insisted.

“You’ll be just fine,” Beomgyu brushed it off. “I’ll write to you every other week, if it makes you feel any better.”

“Will you?”

“Yeah. Now go to sleep.”

Beomgyu closed his eyes. He would much rather make light of his brother’s display of affection than admit he would miss him just as painfully. Showing feelings was definitely not his strong suit.

“Beom?” Seonggyu called again.

“Mm?” Beomgyu mumbled impatiently.

“Promise we’ll be best friends forever?”

Beomgyu glanced at his brother one last time. Seonggyu was staring at him, expectation flickering in his sparkly grey eyes, so identical to Beomgyu’s own.

“Promise.”

The two boys exchanged a faint smile, and neither spoke again.

Chapter Text

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Kai had been tossing and turning for the past three hours, woefully agitated. He’d prayed that sleepiness would find its way into his body and shut his brain down, but anxiety seemed to be getting the better of him. It made him want to be sick. Still, somehow, he managed to steady his breathing pace, at least to some extent. The same couldn’t be said for his heartbeat, though. It was fast and painful, as if his worn-out heart were trying to break free from the prison bars of his ribcage. Kai couldn't help but wonder: did other kids feel as nervous as he did about going to school for the first time? Or did he feel that way simply because he was… well, because he was himself?

Two weeks earlier, when the Headmaster of Hogwarts showed up unannounced at the Huenings’ — more like sneaked into the house, actually — and talked Kai’s parents into letting him attend the school, the boy learned what hope felt like. The unusual-looking man had smiled at him, played Gobstones with him, treated him as an equal. He had offered Kai a chance he’d never thought he would get in this lifetime. The chance to be normal. Or, at the very least, to feel normal.

But with hope came fear, as well as overthinking. Kai couldn’t hold on to a single positive thought for more than five minutes without his insecurities feeding off it like parasites. The uncertainty of tomorrow drove him mad. He wanted to go. He needed to. He would die if he didn’t. But he also wanted to curl up in bed like a baby and hide his scarred face from the world. If only he could see the future… Maybe, just maybe, things would be easier. Would he make friends? Would he be a good student with decent grades? Would he ever really fit in?

Kai wished he knew the answers to all those questions, so that he could decide whether to wake up early and catch the Hogwarts Express or just rot in bed forever. He didn’t, though. He’d simply have to be brave enough to figure them out on his own.

Suddenly, a noise came from the living room, snapping him out of the anxiety spiral he’d been drowning in. Kai hated hearing abrupt noises in the middle of the night. They scared him. They triggered him, serving as a cruel reminder of the night that changed the course of his life forever. The night a destiny he never asked for was forced down his throat and carved into his skin and soul.

Much to Kai’s relief, it turned out to be just his father returning from a late shift at the Ministry. Nothing to worry about, he told himself. Minutes later, however, his father’s voice rose just enough for Kai to hear him from the bedroom, but not quite make out the words. It sounded as if he was speaking to somebody else. Soon, his mother’s voice became audible as well. They were having an argument — how typical was that? Kai couldn’t hear what they were fighting about, though he had a pretty good idea. 

Then, all of a sudden, his parents’ voices trailed off. Kai knew that they had left the living room and taken the argument into the privacy of their bedroom. God, was he curious. Maybe eavesdropping a little wouldn’t do any harm… would it? Well, it probably would. It had before. Still, he gave it some thought. His parents had quite the history of getting into arguments, and the subject was always the same: Kai’s condition. They went in circles, got no-bloody-where, and somehow still managed to fight about it every single time.

Truth be told, their relationship was broken beyond repair. Kai’s mother believed his father was to blame for what had happened to him, and honestly, Kai never judged her for it. He had blamed his own father for years as well. He’d cycled through resentment, anger and bitterness more times than he could count before forgiveness finally blossomed in his heart. Now, the only person Kai blamed was himself, for being such a burden to two people who once had nothing but love for each other. But his mother wasn’t ready to let go of her pain just yet.

Determined to eavesdrop on his parents’ quarrel, Kai rolled out of bed. It wasn’t like he was getting any sleep anytime soon, anyway. Careful not to make a sound, he tiptoed through the living room and down the corridor, and stopped in front of their bedroom door. The only source of light in the house spilled through the crack beneath it.

“…can’t believe you’re having second thoughts at the eleventh hour!” Kai heard his father say.

“Why can’t you understand that I’m scared?” his mother snapped, her voice high-pitched and shaky as though she had been crying. “I’m scared of what might happen—”

“Well, he isn’t scared!”

“I’m sorry, are you sure you know him at all? He’s been quieter than usual ever since that man showed up with that stupid letter!”

“That man is the Headmaster—”

“I know exactly what he is, I don’t need you to remind me.”

“Very well. Then you know that it’s perfectly safe for him to go, darling. Arrangements have been made, and he won’t hurt anyone—”

“To hell with that! It’s him I’m worried about! You know how cruel children can be. And my baby… he’s the sweetest…” Mrs Huening burst into tears. Her voice oscillated as she started pacing around the room, and Kai had to press his ear against the door a bit more firmly. “What if the other kids are mean to him? What if he feels alone? And what if anyone finds out? They’re going to make his life hell, and I can’t take it, I just can’t—”

She was cut off by her own loud sob. 

“What do you suggest we do, then? He can’t be locked away forever and you know it! He needs proper magical education, he needs friends, he needs to see the world beyond the four walls of his room, for goodness’ sake!”

“You used to want to protect him. When did that change?” she asked harshly.

“It hasn’t changed. I still want to protect my son, but I do believe that he deserves a chance,” Mr Huening explained, sounding a bit less impatient. “And in the meantime, we’ve got to give ourselves a chance too. Darling, we need a break from this. He’s strong enough to tear a whole room apart now.”

“Excuse me, did you just say we need a break? As in you and I?” Kai’s mother let out a bitter, sarcastic chuckle. “You think I need a fucking break from my son? Oh, I bloody knew you had an awfully selfish reason for wanting him to go. You think of him as a liability, as something you gotta get rid of. But I’ll have you know he’s not some parcel you can just send off whenever it’s convenient for you!”

“You’re crossing the line here. Your accusations are unfair and unreasonable, and you need to pull yourself together. All I’m saying is that we could benefit from him going to Hogwarts, and I mean all three of us. He could have a decent life, while you and I focus on salvaging this marriage!”

“A decent life,” Mrs Huening scoffed, as though her husband had said the most absurd thing imaginable. 

The man sighed so loudly that Kai could hear it through the door. 

“How about this: we see him off to Hogwarts tomorrow. We give him one year to adjust. If everything goes to shit, we bring him home and he doesn’t go back for a second year. Agreed?”

It was only when his lungs started to burn that Kai realised he’d been holding his breath through the whole thing. He didn’t wait for his mother’s response. Instead, he dashed back to his room, deeply regretting having left it in the first place. Nothing good ever came out of overhearing his parents’ rows, then why the hell had he expected it to be any different this time? Nonsense. 

Feeling twice as anxious now, Kai crawled into bed and sought shelter from the world beneath his favourite fluffy blanket. Going to Hogwarts was absolutely terrifying, sure, but the thought of not going was… Gut-wrenching. Heartbreaking. That was the moment he learned, perhaps, the most important lesson of all: hope was a very dangerous thing to have. Kai tried his best to fight the tears, as crying ranked high amongst the things he hated most, but his anguish escalated to the point he could no longer keep it inside. Defeated, he bawled his eyes out until exhaustion finally knocked him unconscious.

In the morning, Mrs Huening had a hard time waking Kai up. She had to call out his name at least six times before he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower, much to her annoyance. Still, she helped him pick a comfortable outfit for the long train ride and even blow-dried his hair, which was now longer than it had ever been. The thick brown locks nearly fell over his eyebrows, and the ends curled slightly at the nape of his neck. Mrs Huening insisted he get it trimmed, but he decided to keep it that way, childishly hoping it might draw attention away from the scar across his right eye.

The Huening family sat together for a glorious breakfast and acted as though the late-night argument had never happened. The morning news was on the telly, and they even casually chatted about it. They really did nail the whole playing house thing — years and years of practice, after all. 

Before finally apparating to the train station, Kai triple-checked that all of his belongings had been properly packed and that his owl was safe inside her cage. Kai’s father, the only one who had been to Hogwarts, showed them around the station and led them to a column between platforms nine and ten. They were supposed to walk through it, apparently. Kai and his mother exchanged hesitant glances, agreeing on how ridiculous that sounded, but Mr Huening reassured them it was perfectly normal. 

As they ran towards that damn wall, Kai squeezed his eyes, scared of hitting solid brick. However, not only did he not hit anything, but less than a second later he found himself somewhere entirely different. The platform nine and three-quarters was packed with funny-looking people, rushing about, talking loudly and pushing trolleys piled high with trunks and pet cages. It was Kai’s first time amongst his own kind, and yet he’d never felt so out of place.

“I think it’s time,” Mrs Huening said in a fragile voice, glancing up at the clock that read nearly eleven o’clock. Her lovely dark eyes glistened with tears as she turned to her son.

Kai wasn’t a very sentimental person. Maybe it was something to do with the gruesome trauma he’d been through, or maybe he was simply wired that way. But more often than not, he showed little emotional response to situations most people wouldn't, especially in front of others. That’s why, even though he loved his mother more than anything in the world and felt safest in her embrace, he kept a straight face as she pulled him into a tight, warm farewell hug.

“Take care, my love,” she said, her arms still wrapped around him as she pressed a quick kiss to the top of his head. "Be a good boy. Listen to your teachers, and don’t get yourself into trouble. Remember to dress warmly and write to your mum as soon as you can.”

“Yes, Mum.”

“I’m going to miss you and think of you every single day.”

Then Mrs Huening showered him with I love yous, which he reciprocated deeply, but didn’t say back. 

From his father, Kai got a double tap on the shoulder and a very sober wish of good luck. Honestly, he’d rather have it that way.

Suddenly, the Hogwarts Express whistle echoed across the platform, announcing its imminent departure. Every child still hugging their family goodbye had to hop on the train in a hurry. Kai’s parents helped him get his trunk aboard and, from that point on, he was on his own. After one last wave, he dragged his trunk down the seemingly endless corridor and struggled to find an empty compartment.

When he finally did, he stowed his belongings in the overhead luggage racks and took the window seat — not forgetting to grab his Walkman first, of course. He intended to have Funkadelic’s “Maggot Brain” on loop for the next few hours. Interacting with another human being or trying to blend in was definitely not on his schedule for the day. So he put on his headphones and leaned his head against the glass, trying to spot his parents amongst the sea of people waving from the platform.

As soon as the train started moving, slowly leaving platform nine and three-quarters behind, Kai felt his heart race. It was real now. There was absolutely no turning back. Not that he actually wanted to turn back, not at all, but the fact that he couldn’t made it all feel heavier. He then took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to focus solely on the music filling his ears, hoping that the crying guitars would melt the anxiety away.

Not even a minute into the song, though, the compartment door slid open. Kai hadn’t expected his compartment to remain empty for long, not with over a thousand people on board, he wasn't that naive. But that didn’t stop him from feeling all sulky about it. He ignored the stranger’s presence and turned the Walkman’s volume all the way up.

Unfortunately, the stranger took the window seat across from Kai and began waving at him nonstop, desperate to get his attention. Annoyed, Kai pressed the pause button on his Walkman and stared at the person in front of him: a boy about the same age as Kai, who had short black hair and facial features very similar to those of a rabbit.

“Hello there,” he said, probably for the tenth time, smiling sweetly.

“Hi,” Kai replied timidly.

“What’s that?” asked the bunny-looking boy, pointing at the Walkman in Kai’s hand.

Kai frowned. He thought that everyone knew what such a popular gadget was. “Mm… it’s a Walkman.”

“I see…” The other boy seemed puzzled. “Wasn’t it supposed to be walking itself, then?”

Oh, God. Kai remembered his father had once told him that some wizards were completely oblivious to the Muggle ways.

“I think it’s just supposed to mean that you can listen to music… you know, as you walk…” Kai explained, although he wasn’t really sure that was the actual origin of the name.

The boy’s expression instantly turned into genuine interest. “So is it a music-playing device?”

“Yeah.” Kai handed him the headphones. “Put these on, just like I did.”

The boy’s heart-shaped lips turned into a circle of pure astonishment when Kai resumed the song. He listened to it, completely stunned, for about ten seconds before Kai asked for his headphones back.

“Is it a Muggle thing?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you a Muggle?” 

“Wouldn’t be here if I were,” Kai replied, offering a teasing smirk that earned a faint laugh from the other boy. Then he clarified, “My mum’s a Muggle. Not Muggle-born, just Muggle.”

“Oh! So you’re a half-blood, then. That’s lovely.”

However soft the boy’s smile was, Kai couldn’t help but feel a little uncomfortable. He’d never heard that term before, but it didn’t sound exactly like a compliment.

“I guess so…” 

“You’ve got the best of both worlds!” the boy said with a grin, extending a hand. “I’m Choi Soobin, by the way. What’s your name?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Kai shook his hand. “I’m Kai.”

Choi Soobin raised an eyebrow. “Just Kai?”

“Oh, sorry. Huening.”

“Huening Kai?”

“Yeah. But just Kai is fine.”

“Nice to meet you, Kai.”

“Nice to meet you.”

An awkward silence stretched on for a couple of minutes, during which the boys looked around at everything except each other. Meeting a stranger and running out of things to say so quickly made Kai feel utterly embarrassed. He was terrible at communication, that much was clear; but then again, who could blame him? How could he have possibly developed any social skills after such a brutally lonely childhood? He had no clue what to even say to Soobin. 

It turned out he didn’t need to worry for long, because Soobin asked out of the blue, “How did you get your scar?”

Kai froze in place. That question. 

He silently cursed himself with every bad word he knew for not thinking of a bullshit story beforehand. But, damn, he couldn’t have imagined someone would ask him that less than an hour into his first day — and it wasn’t even the actual first day.

“Mm…” he mumbled, taking a deep breath to buy himself time to come up with something on the spot. “Well, my dad… he works with… creatures. It was an accident.”

Soobin’s eyebrows rose, his dark eyes widened and his lips parted slightly. Kai found the confused, bunny-like expression oddly... endearing, despite how inconvenient the boy was being.

“You were attacked by a creature?” 

“Yeah…”

“What creature?” 

Bloody hell.

“A dragon,” Kai lied. His father was a Non-Human Spirituous Apparition expert, and had probably never been anywhere near a dragon in his entire life. “But it was a baby dragon, obviously, otherwise I’d be dead.”

“You were attacked by a dragon?” Soobin's expression went from confusion to absolute fascination. “Wicked!”

“I don’t remember much of it, I was very little,” he lied again. 

Although he was, indeed, very young when it happened, Kai’s memories hadn’t faded in the least. He could relive the night he was bitten in vivid detail. The sharp claws tearing his skin, the fangs sinking deep into his flesh; the agony and the pain and the burning venom spreading through his bloodstream like wildfire; the wolf's hungry, amber eyes, eager to bite the life out of him. He remembered everything. He wished he didn’t.

“But since it was a magical creature that attacked me, nothing could be done about the scar. That’s all there is to it,” Kai said, hoping Soobin would pick up on the finality in his tone and ask no more questions about it.

“You must’ve seen some really cool stuff, considering your dad’s job, right?” Soobin subtly shifted the topic.

“Not really. Mum’s pretty strict about him bringing work home.”

“Oh, that must be so weird for her, being a Muggle and all.”

Kai shrugged. “She’s... used to it, I guess.”

Then Soobin launched into an awfully fast-paced speech about his parents’ business. They ran a small botanical shop in Diagon Alley, selling all sorts of plants: healing herbs, potion ingredients, and even ornamental ones. Soobin sounded really passionate about it, and Kai realised the only magical plant he knew of was gillyweed. Actually, he knew very little about magic as a whole.

Kai’s parents had sheltered him so much that everything felt new. Since his father worked full-time at the Ministry, he spent most of the time with his mother, who worked from home as a columnist for a local newspaper. Therefore, Kai had a very Muggle upbringing, with only occasional glimpses of magic here and there — like when his father made the dishes wash themselves, when he tidied up the house with a wave of his wand, or when he recounted a particularly interesting day at work. Still, Hogwarts and the wonders of the wizarding world were hardly ever a topic of conversation. His parents never believed that their son would be able to take part in it, anyway, so they decided very early on not to let him in too much.

The rest of the train ride went on smoothly. Three more children eventually entered the compartment, but judging by the way they talked amongst themselves, barely even acknowledging Kai and Soobin’s presence, they definitely weren’t first-years. Thirty minutes before the Hogwarts Express arrived at the Hogsmeade Station, Kai and Soobin headed out together in search of the nearest toilet, so they could change into their school robes. As they did so, Soobin started going on about a “sorting ceremony”, making up an elaborate list of reasons why he’d be a perfect fit for each of the four Hogwarts houses, though he’d rather die than be sorted into Slytherin. Kai mostly nodded through the entire monologue, since he had no idea what any of those words meant.

After getting off the train, the two boys stuck together in the station crowded with students. They even sat side by side on the boat that would finally take them to the castle. Kai realised he’d been unconsciously clinging to Soobin, the only relatively familiar thing amidst the overwhelming avalanche of brand-new experiences all around.

As the boat glided across the hauntingly still surface of the Black Lake, they exchanged awestruck mumbles. Soobin looked just as mesmerised as Kai by the majestic silhouette of the castle stretching across the starry night. It was truly a sight to behold. The flickering lights streaming through the hundreds of windows cast a bewitching glow, and Kai just couldn’t help but wonder which one would become his home for the next seven years. That is, if he was lucky enough.

Upon their arrival at the castle, a rather intimidating witch wearing a pointed hat and a greenish-purple velvet cloak escorted the first-years up to the Great Hall entrance. With a single hand gesture, she turned the students’ anxious chatter into dead silence. Kai couldn’t tell if she’d cast a spell on them or if they’d simply gone quiet out of fear. Either way, she introduced herself as Professor McGonagall, the Head of Gryffindor House, before proceeding to explain the sorting ceremony Soobin had mentioned earlier.

The first-years followed her through the astronomically tall door into the Great Hall, where four long tables, occupied by the rest of the students, sat parallel to each other and perpendicular to another equally long table at the far end — this one reserved for the professors and the Headmaster himself.

The Great Hall was the most breathtaking place Kai had ever seen with his own eyes: flaming torches cast a shimmering light along the stone walls, and a thousand candles floated quietly in mid-air, just a few feet below a jaw-dropping magical replica of the night sky, concealing the otherwise mundane, dull ceiling. In that moment, he became utterly certain that, had his mother ever set foot in Hogwarts, she wouldn’t have dreamed of robbing him of the chance to come. How could anyone even live without knowing such a place existed?

The witch then led the first-years to a clear area right in front of the teachers’ table, and had them line up before a wooden stool that looked completely out of place. On the stool, sat a ragged wizard hat, and Kai had to swallow down the urge to ask Soobin what the hell that was supposed to mean.

Suddenly, the hat moved, and a mouth-shaped tear appeared along its brim out of thin air. It started singing. Kai took a quick look around — neither the students nearby nor the professors flinched, so that was probably a frequent occurrence. He made a mental note to stop acting like such a Muggle and focused on the rather soulful voice belting out a tacky song about the virtues of each of the four houses. For the first time, Kai wondered where he’d end up. He didn’t know shit about houses, but he caught himself hoping to be sorted into the same one as Soobin

“Very well,” Professor McGonagall said as soon as the song came to an end. “When I call your name, you will sit on the stool, and I shall place the Sorting Hat on your head.”

And so the ceremony began. The witch started calling out the students’ names in alphabetical order, which was a relief. Kai didn’t want to go first, but he didn’t want to be sorted last either; both options drew far too much attention. Each time a student was sorted into a house, its members would fill the hall with loud cheers and applause, as if their favourite quidditch team had just beaten their biggest rival.

“Well, that was… unexpected,” Soobin commented just as one boy was sorted into Gryffindor. “To say the least.”

The Slytherin table started booing passionately. Gryffindor retaliated, cheering even louder than before.

Kai, who had been quietly examining the teachers' table to try and guess which ones he would like the most, failed to grasp the situation. “Huh?”

“The boy who’s just been sorted! Haven’t you seen it?”

“Mm…” Lazily, Kai glanced over his shoulder at the Gryffindor table, but the boy Soobin was referring to had already merged with the other students. “Sorry, not really. What about him?”

Professor McGonagall demanded silence.

“The Choi family heir was sorted into Gryffindor,” Soobin whispered, leaning towards Kai. “Haven’t you ever heard of them? They’ve been in Slytherin for centuries, literally,” he explained, seeming far too eager to gossip.

“Wait, are you two related?” 

“Oh, not at all,” he chuckled. “I’m just a regular Choi; we’re not even remotely related. I’ve only ever seen him from afar at a couple of Ministry parties. His family is, like, the oldest and wealthiest in the whole country. Heavy influence on the Ministry of Magic. Let’s just say that if wizards still had a monarchy, the Chois would be the royal family, and he would be the crown prince. That’s what makes it a little shocking—”

“Choi Soobin!” the witch called out his name.

“This is it — see you on the other side, Kai,” he said nervously before walking over to the stool.

“See ya.”

By the looks of it, the Sorting Hat seemed to have full access to Choi Soobin’s List of Reasons. It took nearly six minutes to reach a decision — Gryffindor. Just like that, Soobin became the first hatstall in over fifty years, according to Professor McGonagall, and another loud wave of cheers echoed across the Great Hall. Soobin flashed an excited smile at Kai before heading to the Gryffindor table, now his table as well, and Kai knew that was exactly where he wanted to go. He could only keep his fingers crossed and hope that the old hat could read his mind.

When Professor McGonagall finally called Kai’s name, an adrenaline rush took over his body, making everything happen in a heartbeat: he walked over to the stool, his vision went blurry, the hat was placed on his head, it shouted “Gryffindor!” and the students cheered. That was it. The whole thing couldn’t have taken more than fifteen seconds. 

Kai could not believe his luck. As he walked towards the table full of students waiting to greet him with enthusiastic handshakes, he silently thanked the hat for sparing him the trouble of making another friend. After shyly shaking hands with about ten people, Kai took a spot next to Soobin, who was beaming as though they had just hit the jackpot.

“Could you have imagined that? We’re in the best house!” said Soobin, utterly thrilled. 

“Is that so?” Kai asked; he was perfectly happy with Gryffindor, but he still hadn’t fully grasped house dynamics. All he really knew so far was that Slytherins seemed like a crowd to avoid.

“Of course!”

Although that answer would have sufficed, Soobin started listing every reason why Gryffindor was the best house at Hogwarts. Wasn’t he familiar with the good old habit of summarising things? Kai had no complaints, though. In fact, he was glad to have a friend who did all the talking while he could just zone out and nod along. 

Kai was only half-listening when his eyes strayed from Soobin and wandered along the Gryffindor table, looking at no one in particular, until somebody’s gaze caught his. It was a boy, whose face was far from welcoming. He sat with unusual elegance, chin on fist, posture upright. His stare was cold and arrogant, but he offered a soft smile as soon as their eyes met. What the hell was he even smiling about? Maybe he’d just noticed the scar on Kai’s face and felt embarrassed about being caught staring, Kai assumed.

Nonetheless, Kai attempted to smile back — his mother had taught him manners, after all — but failed quite miserably. The best he could manage was a pathetic tug at the corner of his lips, which made him look nothing short of unkind.

“Hello?” Soobin waved a hand in front of Kai's face. “Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?”

Kai snapped back to reality and looked at his friend.

“Sorry — someone was staring. Got distracted.”

“Really? Who?”

“Him.”

Quietly, Soobin looked in the direction Kai pointed. The mysterious boy now had one arm draped around the shoulders of another boy, who looked much more laid-back and friendly, with his round spectacles and messy black hair. 

“Oh, that’s the Choi bloke I told you about. Was he staring at you?”

“Yeah,” Kai said flatly.

“That’s interesting. You should try and make friends with him, maybe he’ll treat us with his money!”

Kai shook his head. “I’m not doing that.”

“Bummer. He probably hates Muggles, anyway.”

“Does he?” Kai frowned. “Why would anyone hate Muggles?”

“Wow, you’ve really been living under a rock, haven’t you?” Soobin mocked, but his face quickly went serious as he realised Kai wasn’t finding it amusing. “Sorry. It’s just… listen, there are a few wizarding families — like the Chois, for instance — who believe that Muggles are inferior to wizards, and that Muggle-borns aren’t actually… well, they think Muggle-borns shouldn’t be allowed to do magic. But not everyone’s like that, really.”

“What about half-bloods?” Kai asked, not sure he really wanted to know the answer. 

“Well…” Soobin scrunched his nose as if he was about to break some bad news. “There’s less intolerance when it comes to half-bloods, but still…”

“Got it.”

Kai swallowed dryly. Seriously? Was that how he was supposed to find out that he would have to deal with anti-Muggle people? That he had yet another reason to be discriminated against? Thanks for the heads up, Dad. He really had been living under a rock — with “rock” being a perfect metaphor for his parents’ annoying habit of keeping things from him.

“Are you mad at me?” asked Soobin. “I promise I’m not like that.”

“No, not at you. Sorry if it seemed that way.”

The two boys exchanged an awkward smile before turning their attention to the Headmaster, who had just risen to his feet. The sorting ceremony had come to an end and the entire Great Hall fell silent to listen to the man’s words. 

He extended a warm welcome to the new students, wished everyone an exceptional school year and gave a few safety reminders. As soon as he finished his speech, the Headmaster clapped his hands, and an unbelievable amount of food appeared on the golden platters, filling the previously empty spaces along the tables. Kai couldn’t even name half the dishes in front of him. Still, he helped himself to a little bit of everything that looked familiar, and even picked two steaks that were particularly rarer than the rest.

Just when Kai thought he couldn’t eat more, the leftovers magically vanished to make room for the desserts. With hundreds of options to choose from, he decided to try all things chocolate: chocolate ice-cream, chocolate cake, chocolate pudding — until he’d had enough chocolate to make him want to throw up for a week.

Throughout dinner, Kai’s eyes met the mysterious pure-blood boy’s exactly four times. Not that he had actively counted, but the accidental exchange of glances left him feeling weird and self-conscious, enough to mentally register every fleeting encounter. Each one had lasted less than two seconds, so Kai didn’t get the chance to read the boy’s expression in order to figure out why on earth he seemed so interested. Maybe he could smell Kai’s Muggleness from three metres away. Who knew?

Upon the students' dismissal, Gryffindor first-years were led to the Gryffindor tower by a fifth year prefect. They had to climb at least ten flights of moving staircases, walk down endless corridors and pass by countless annoying talking portraits. Kai was used to seeing moving pictures, but talking ones were a bit of a stretch. Not to mention the ghosts coming out of the stone walls to spook the students every now and then. Honestly, Kai was tired and stuffed, he didn’t want to deal with any of that before getting a good and long night’s sleep.

When they reached the common room entrance, the prefect muttered the password to the portrait of a very fat, medieval-looking lady dressed in a fancy pink gown. She nodded slightly, and the portrait swung open to reveal a passageway through the thick wall leading to the interior of the Gryffindor common room.

Kai barely had time to take in his surroundings and get a grasp of how cosy and comfortable the room was; the prefect, probably exhausted herself, hurried to show them to their dormitories at the very top of a spiral staircase. There, the four Gryffindor boys — Kai, Soobin, the mysterious pure-blood Choi and his cheerful friend — found their canopy beds neatly made and hung with crimson velvet curtains. Each of their belongings had already been placed by their bedside tables.

The circular bed arrangement had been randomly set up, and Kai felt a bit disappointed to find that the bed next to his belonged to the Choi boy and not to Soobin, who had been placed between the other two. However, no one else seemed too bothered by it, so Kai forced himself to smother his frustration. 

Silently, he grabbed his pyjamas and jumped in the shower. The hot water was heavenly and soothing, much better than the one he had at home. It was probably his favourite thing about Hogwarts so far, though he deeply hoped the bed would top it. 

As he finished brushing his teeth and turned to leave the bathroom, the Choi boy walked in, pyjamas under his arm and toothbrush in hand.

“Hi,” the boy said with a weak, enigmatic smile.

“Hi,” Kai muttered.

Under the soft white light of the bathroom, Kai could get a much closer look at him. His bright-coloured eyes were, in fact, a remarkably deep shade of grey. Kai had never seen eyes that colour before — not that he’d met many people. Even so, it didn’t seem like the sort of thing you ran into every day. Neither did the rest of his features: too sharp, too intimidating, too arrogant. He towered over Kai, at least three inches taller, and had short, neatly trimmed jet-black hair, with a straight fringe falling over his forehead.

“Sorry for staring earlier,” the boy said, before the silence stretched for too long. “I didn't mean to creep you out or anything.”

“Oh,” Kai managed, caught off guard by the boy’s apology. “It’s all fine.”

“It’s just… There's this man — he sings my favourite song,” he began, gesturing as he spoke, “and he has a lightning bolt painted on his face, just across his right eye. And your scar sort of reminded me of that. Anyway, I think it looks really cool. The scar, I mean.”

Speechless and wide-eyed, Kai just stared at him, trying to make sense of those words. Out of all the nonsense the boy had just babbled, Kai was mostly weirded out by the fact he thought the scar looked cool. Cool? That one was definitely not on the list of adjectives Kai would’ve used to describe it.

“I know it's a very odd thing to say—”

“Nah, I get that all the time,” said Kai, shaking his head quickly.

The boy frowned. “You do?”

“No, I was being sarcastic,” Kai explained, but the boy didn’t seem to follow. “I mean it was a joke.”

“Aren’t jokes supposed to be funny?” the boy asked in a very innocent, childlike tone.

Kai shrugged. “I don’t know, it was pretty funny to me.”

“Why exactly?”

Kai couldn’t help but think that maybe too much curiosity was, after all, an inherent trait of pure-blood wizards.

“Well, you just said some words that no one’s ever put together in a sentence before in the history of mankind, so I thought it’d be funny to tell you that I hear it all the time… But if I have to explain the joke, then there’s no joke…”

“I get it now!” The boy chuckled. “Cheeky. So… what happened—”

Kai had a feeling he knew what question was coming, so he cut him off straight away, “It was a baby dragon, I was five and I don't remember a thing.”

The grey-eyed boy twitched his lips. “Am I being rude?”

“Oh, no.” Kai waved it off. “It's just that there isn’t any special story behind it, is all. Thanks for the compliment, though.”

“No problem.” He smiled. “I meant it.”

Kai pursed his lips, another pitiful attempt at a smile, and gave him a shy nod.

“I’m Beomgyu, by the way.”

“Right,” Kai mumbled, suddenly fiddling with the hem of his pyjamas. “I’m Kai.”

“It was nice meeting you, Kai. Off you go now, you look tired,” Beomgyu said in a lighthearted tone, walking past Kai and into one of the shower stalls.

Free from Beomgyu’s trapping gaze, Kai returned to the bedroom to find Soobin fully engaged in an enthusiastic chatter about this year’s quidditch season with the other black-haired boy. Kang Taehyun, as he had introduced himself to Kai, was a very talkative kid, who matched Soobin’s energy perfectly and seemed to have come to Hogwarts with a single goal in mind: making the Gryffindor team.

Since Kai wasn’t at all into quidditch, he excused himself and climbed into bed, looking forward to getting eight hours' sleep. A few minutes later, however, Beomgyu came out of the bathroom and joined the conversation, making it nearly impossible for Kai to drift off as the chatter escalated. Couldn’t they just save it for the bloody morning? As if they weren’t going to spend the rest of the year together already!

Feeling annoyed, Kai reached for his Walkman on the bedside table and put on his life-saving headphones. But nothing happened when he pressed play. He tried rewinding the tape, but not even that seemed to work.

“What the hell?” he muttered, giving it a few useless taps.

The boys’ conversation died down and their attention landed on Kai.

“What happened?” Soobin asked from his bed, sounding genuinely worried.

“My Walkman, it’s not bloody working,” Kai replied grumpily.

“Is it broken?”

“I dunno.”

“That’s weird. It was working just fine earlier.”

“I know.”

“What’s that?” asked Beomgyu. 

“It’s a Muggle music-playing device,” Soobin explained.

“Really?” Beomgyu sounded excited. “Is it like a very small graphomone?”

“A what?” Soobin and Taehyun asked in unison.

“A graphomone,” Beomgyu repeated.

“Do you mean a 'gramophone', perhaps?” Kai suggested, casting him a quick glance.

“Yes! That’s it!”

“It’s nothing like a gramophone, though.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about, but Kai…” Taehyun said tentatively. “If it’s a Muggle device, the chances of it working at Hogwarts are slim to none. There’s way too much magic in the air.”

Kai felt as if a giant black hole had just opened beneath his feet, swallowing his hopes, dreams, and will to live. He could not, for the life of him, believe what had just come out of Taehyun’s mouth.

“Are you joking?”

“Sorry, mate.”

Beomgyu and Soobin exchanged apprehensive glances.

Kai stared down at the lifeless Walkman in his hand. “Isn't there any way around it?”

“Actually, yes,” Taehyun replied. “Muggle devices can be adapted to work in heavily magical environments, but it’s advanced magic, innit? If it’s important to you, I suggest you ask a teacher.”

Kai nodded, brokenhearted.

“Thanks, Taehyun,” he whispered, laying the Walkman back on the bedside table. “Night, everyone.”

“Night,” the three of them replied.

Kai crawled into bed again, this time drawing the curtains shut around it, and the room fell silent as Soobin and Taehyun headed to the bathroom together.

Chapter Text

🌙

The first two weeks of classes went by surprisingly fast, despite the overwhelming amount of new things to assimilate. However, Kai found himself adjusting to Hogwarts far more quickly than he had anticipated, apart from the awfully long walks he had to endure from one classroom to another, made all the more worse by the temperamental staircases that seemed to move whenever he was in a hurry. Oh, how they loved making him take twice as long to get basically anywhere. On top of that, the castle’s layout seemed to rearrange itself every couple of hours. Nothing was ever the same as the last time he had seen it.

Still, Hogwarts was slowly starting to feel somewhat like home. He liked the food, the accommodations — even some of the classes were fascinating. Of course, as expected, Kai had absolutely loathed his first flying lesson, failing to lift off the ground no matter how hard he tried. Soobin’s performance had been just as miserable, which served as a consolation. Beomgyu was fairly good at it, while Taehyun… Well, Taehyun was just born undeniably talented. As simple as that. He’d had the entire class, even the teacher, in awe of his extraordinary flying skills.

Defence Against the Dark Arts and Charms soon became Kai’s favourite subjects. Soobin, on the other hand, had grown utterly obsessed with Herbology and Potions. Regardless of their being average at History of Magic and Transfiguration, they balanced each other out pretty well, so teaming up made complete sense and happened quite naturally. Their friendship grew closer as they sat together in classes, paired up for assignments and helped each other whenever individual essays were set.

Something similar could be said for Taehyun and Beomgyu. They shared the kind of bond that made it seem as though they had been best friends for their entire lives, maybe even in past ones, rather than having met on a train compartment only a couple of weeks earlier. The wealthy, spoiled and arrogant pure-blood kids understood each other like nobody else. It sort of reminded Kai of those disturbing cases of conjoined twins he had seen on the news. They never went anywhere without the other, and God, were they loud. In such a short period of time, they had somehow become the most popular students amongst the first-years. 

The four of them got along relatively well, although they usually only spent time together as a group during meal breaks and at night in the dormitory. There was an invisible line that separated Taehyun and Beomgyu’s friendship from that of Kai and Soobin, and it was a rather conspicuous one. Taehyun and Beomgyu did seem to enjoy being around the other two for a quick chat — or whenever they needed notes from a particular class — but they weren’t exactly keen on including Kai and Soobin in their exploring of the school grounds. Kai didn’t mind, honestly. As his Walkman had been lying dead inside his trunk since the first day of class, he would much rather stay inside, reading or hanging out with Soobin.

Even so, Soobin had noticed that Taehyun and Beomgyu reserved a sort of kindness for Kai that they didn’t seem to extend to other people.

“I swear, it’s like they think that everyone here sucks but you!” Soobin observed during one of the pair’s afternoon study sessions in the library.

“And you seem to agree,” Kai teased, not bothering to look up from the Charms book he had been reading for the past half hour.

Soobin let out a shameless giggle. “I do, actually.” 

Kai laughed along.

“Nonsense, they’re just mental.”

Kai had never actually meant to go beyond surface level with either Taehyun or Beomgyu. He was, after all, a half-blood wizard, the proud son of a Muggle mother, and although the other boys meant no offense, their bigotry still slipped through at times. It wasn’t their fault. Kai knew that. They were very cool guys, but he just couldn't help feeling bothered by their blatant superiority complex.

Nevertheless, Kai learned a few days later that, in fact, Soobin wasn’t completely wrong. It was a quiet Sunday afternoon, and Kai was sitting beneath the glorious shade of a leafy tree on the edge of the Black Lake — his newfound perfect spot for some alone time — rereading his absolute favourite detective novel when Beomgyu approached him. He was also alone, too. A rather unusual sight.

“Hello there,” Beomgyu said tentatively.

“Hiya,” Kai greeted with a shy smile, glancing up at him before closing his book. “To what do I owe the honour?”

“Silly,” he chuckled, twitching his lips as he scratched behind his ear. “May I have a word?”

Kai frowned at the boy’s formality. “Sure… Did something happen?”

“Actually, yes.” Beomgyu sat down in front of him so quickly that, for a moment, Kai thought he had tripped. “Please, don’t be mad.”

“Why would I be mad?”

Beomgyu took a deep breath and reached into his shoulder bag.

“I swear I had good intentions…” he muttered, pulling something out and holding it with both hands. “I’ll buy you a new one as soon as I can. I’ll get you the best there is.”

It was Kai’s Walkman. Completely scorched. 

Enraged, Kai stared down at it, trying to find the most heinous words to throw at Beomgyu, but he was just downright speechless.

“Say something. Shout at me, curse my entire family, whatever. Just say anything.”

“What have you done?” asked Kai, his voice low and cold.

“I thought… I thought I could fix it for you,” Beomgyu explained, his words rushed and high-pitched. “I did a lot of research and I thought I could do it! But it just exploded out of the blue, and I nearly lost my nose—”

“Jesus bloody Christ,” Kai blurted out, though what he really wanted to say was that Beomgyu should have lost his nose.

Beomgyu swallowed dryly, looking down at the Walkman in his hand, most likely because he didn’t have the guts to face Kai.

“I ballsed up, I know.”

“How did you — this was in my drawer.” Kai shook his head in disbelief. “You went through my stuff?”

Beomgyu sighed in defeat. “You looked proper mad about it, I just wanted to fix it.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have,” Kai said forcefully.

“I know, all right? I didn’t mean for it to go wrong!”

“It doesn’t matter! You should’ve asked me. I wouldn’t have said no.”

Beomgyu’s eyes narrowed as though he had misheard. “Wait, you wouldn’t have?”

“No! I’d planned to go looking for the spell myself.”

“It’s just… I meant it as a surprise.” Beomgyu chewed nervously on the corner of his bottom lip. “I thought I’d get the thing working and then you could, perhaps, I don’t know, show me some of your songs…”

Kai almost chuckled. He couldn’t believe his luck — or lack thereof. 

“Still, you could’ve just asked me.”

Beomgyu fell silent for a moment, sighing as he laid the charred Walkman on the ground with unnecessary gentleness. It was unsalvageable, anyway.

“I managed to save your record, at least,” he said softly, pulling something else from his shoulder bag and handing it to Kai. The record in question was actually the cassette tape Kai had left inside the Walkman. “I promise I’ll get you a brand-new one.”

Kai brushed his thumb over the sloppy, child-like handwriting that identified the tape as “Mum’s Faves”.

“That was the one that I loved, though,” Kai muttered, his voice heavy with grief. After an instant’s pause, he shook his head and clicked his tongue. “I’ll get over it. Anyways, thanks for trying.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“It’ll pass.” Kai shrugged. “Eventually.”

Truth was, even Kai couldn’t put a finger on what he was feeling at that moment. He went through anger, sadness and numbness, all within the span of a minute.

“Won’t happen again,” Beomgyu promised.

“Make sure to never go through my things again either, yeah? I’d appreciate it.”

“Okay,” Beomgyu agreed, getting to his feet and brushing the dirt off his clothes. “Everything all right, though? You look a bit pale.”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking. See you around.”

Beomgyu whispered a humble, “See you,” and Kai picked up his reading where he had left off, not sparing the other boy so much as a glance as he walked back to the castle. Kai’s eyes then fell on the Walkman lying on the grass — or what was left of it — and he allowed himself to sulk for a minute or two.

By dinnertime, Kai felt much less affected by the whole situation. He had taken the time to digest it, which enabled him to see it in a new, better light. Beomgyu had screwed up, there was absolutely no denying that, but maybe his heart had been in the right place; a rather peculiar way of showing it, sure, but at the end of the day, he had tried to do something kind for a housemate. Besides, Kai was self-aware enough to acknowledge that he would have been immensely grateful to Beomgyu, had he succeeded in bringing the Walkman back to life. 

However, Beomgyu’s reasons remained a mystery. Kai knew very little about the boy’s personality, but from what he’d gathered so far, Beomgyu didn’t seem like the type to go around performing selfless good deeds for just anyone. And Kai was nothing special, really. Had Beomgyu gone through all that trouble just to borrow the Walkman and listen to a few songs? That seemed highly unlikely.

Kai decided to put his attempts at uncovering Beomgyu’s ulterior motives on hold and ate dinner with the other three boys as if nothing had happened. Neither he nor Beomgyu mentioned the Walkman incident, and Taehyun — the usual partner in crime — didn’t seem to have the slightest clue.

As soon as the long-awaited desserts materialised on the table, Kai quickly helped himself to a generous slice of blueberry cheesecake and took advantage of the boys’ sudden excitement to move a few inches away from Soobin unnoticed. Then he pulled out his quill and parchment to finally write back to his mother, after days of shameless procrastination.

Dear Mum, 

Sorry for the late reply. It’s Sunday evening, and I’ve spent the whole weekend buried in schoolwork. Aside from the usual, I’ve been trying to get ahead on next week’s content so I don’t fall too far behind. As you probably know, the thing is just two nights away, and I’m already starting to feel and look a bit ill… I’ll check in at the hospital wing tomorrow and wait for further instructions. I just had dinner, and right after sending this, I’ll head back to the dormitory and pack a few things. Clothes and stuff. I probably won’t write again for another three days or so.

Before I forget, I wanted to ask you a little something. Any chance I could get an early Christmas present? I didn’t mention it before, but my Walkman kinda died (may He rest in peace) and it’s been absolutely brutal without it. You wouldn’t want your only son to cry himself to sleep every night… Would you???? Perhaps an extra pair of headphones as well? Please??? Remember, Dad’s got to charm it so it works here. Oh, and tell him I said hi.

I have no idea who does the cooking at Hogwarts, but they certainly know how to make a mean cheesecake. You’d love it.

Missing you loads,

Kai

After finishing dessert, Kai headed to the owlery to send off his letter, with Soobin more than happy to tag along, being his typical chatterbox self all the way there and back to the Gryffindor common room. Kai felt as if he knew Soobin’s entire life story at that point — still no complaints about that, though, and no longer because it spared him the trouble of speaking, but because he genuinely appreciated the fact that someone seemed so eager to share things with him. He felt seen. Kai liked Soobin, and he liked being liked by Soobin, even though his only friend would never give him the time of day if he knew the monster Kai truly was.

Ever since the start of term, Kai had been trying not to think too much about his ugly secret, hoping he might get a taste of life detached from lycanthropy for once. That night, however, he was forced to snap back to the harsh reality: the moon always cycled around to bite him in the end. All Kai could do was take it with quiet resignation. 

That’s why he excused himself from his housemates’ company and dragged his weak body up to the dormitory far earlier than he would have liked to. Exactly as he had told his mother, he packed a small backpack with a few changes of clothes and hygiene items — just enough to cover a fantastic overnight stay at a lovely abandoned house on the outskirts of Hogsmeade plus two stops at the hospital wing — and slid it under his bed. The next morning, before sunrise, Kai tiptoed out of the dormitory ever so quietly, careful not to wake any of the boys. He had no clue what to even say if he got caught sneaking out so early with a backpack slung over his shoulder.

In the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey welcomed him with a warm smile and invited him to join her for breakfast in her office, an offer he promptly accepted. Over beans and toast, she explained in detail how everything would unfold the following day, and reassured Kai that he would return to the castle safe and sound. Shortly after, she showed him to a bed and gave him a gruesome-tasting elixir for his sudden nausea. He managed to sleep until noon — quite miraculously, since that mattress was the most uncomfortable thing he’d ever lain on — but malaise kept him awake for the rest of that Monday. 

On Tuesday, the symptoms worsened. Kai could never quite get used to the uneasiness, the chills, and the blazing fever. He could live with the body aches just fine — well, sort of — but wasn’t particularly fond of all the sweating and vomiting. 

When the time came, Madam Pomfrey smuggled him out of the castle and led him through the school grounds until they reached an intriguingly violent willow tree. Kai was feeling so dreadful that he couldn’t even muster enough strength to be surprised by the existence of a murderous tree within the Hogwarts boundaries. While the matron paralysed the willow so they could get across safely, he genuinely contemplated standing close enough for its vicious branches to end his life there and then.

Concealed beneath the tree was a secret passageway leading to the shack where Kai’s transformation would take place. They walked for about an hour, but it actually felt like ten; the tunnel was dark, damp and far too narrow for two people to stand side by side comfortably. The shack’s interior wasn’t any less creepy. Not only did it look long since lived in, it also felt haunted, but Kai was in no condition to focus on anything other than the thick, heavy chains Madam Pomfrey fastened around his neck, ankles and wrists to keep him in check throughout the night. 

All he could properly register was that he was in a dusty, dimly lit bedroom. There was an old canopy bed in the centre and a grand piano sitting in a corner, looking rather out of place. The windows had been sloppily sealed with worn-out wooden planks, and the sunset spilled through the cracks, casting orange stripes across the floor.

The full moon was a nightmare of its own. Atrocious and painful, just like every single one Kai had ever had to endure. The morning after, his throat was sore from all the screaming, his body black and blue with bruises inflicted by the chains, and there was blood — his blood — splattered across the walls, as though they had been freshly painted red. One quick glance at the scene, and the vivid memories of the wolf's frustrated slamming against the wooden walls came flooding back. 

Kai had long since passed out by the time Madam Pomfrey came to his aid. She found him lying naked on the floor, his skin ripped and bleeding. Perhaps she had left a tray of breakfast as well, for it was already there when Kai finally woke up, a few hours later. There was a small bathroom adjacent to the room, so he took a long shower, though he could barely stand from the pain, and ate as if he had been starving for three months.

In the late afternoon, Madam Pomfrey returned to pick Kai up and escorted him back to the castle, where he spent another night under her care in the hospital wing. She applied silver dressings to his wounds, gave him invigorating potions from time to time, and ensured he rested as much as possible. He was free to go twenty-four hours later, once his skin was completely healed and scar-free; no one would have believed a bleeding wound had been there just a day before. 

Kai wouldn’t stop looking sick for the next couple of days, but he couldn’t afford to miss any more classes. As he headed back to the dormitory, Kai realised that the same distances he was so used to walking in the castle now left him drastically exhausted, as if he were running a marathon. He had to make a few pitiful stops to catch his breath before continuing, especially after climbing so many annoying, stupid, utterly unnecessary stairs. Kai thought he would drop dead before he could make it there — actually, he kind of hoped for it — and the fact that he did reach his final destination must have been divine intervention.

It was around half past seven in the morning. Kai’s housemates were all changing into their uniforms when he opened the door, the loud creak announcing his arrival exactly as he hadn’t wanted.

“Blimey, Kai, where’ve you been?” Soobin snapped as soon as his eyes landed on him, instantly dropping whatever he had been doing to walk up to his friend.

The other two looked just as puzzled.

“Hello, there,” Kai whispered, uncertainty growing in his weary eyes.

“Merlin’s beard, we’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Taehyun exclaimed. “We thought you might’ve been snatched into the forbidden forest by a troll or something.”

“Not me, I’m not a lunatic,” Beomgyu teased with a smirk before turning to Kai. “Everything all right?”

“Yeah, fine,” Kai replied with a shy nod. “Thank you all for worrying about me, I just… went home for a couple of days, is all.”

“Why, though?” asked Soobin.

“I went to see my mum. She’s… um… she’s been a bit ill for a while,” Kai muttered, avoiding eye contact with any of them, hoping his pallor and exhaustion might be mistaken for sadness. “Actually… I don’t really feel like talking about it right now.”

“No problem,” Soobin said, his voice so warm and understanding that it felt like an embrace. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks.” 

“Sorry, mate,” said Taehyun. “I hope she gets well soon.”

“Sorry,” said Beomgyu.

Kai thanked them once more and made his way to his bed. The dormitory fell dead silent as everyone went back to their business, tension hanging heavy in the air. Not a word was spoken until breakfast.

Over a week had passed since Kai’s first ever full moon at Hogwarts. Thanks to Madam Pomfrey’s expertise, he’d recovered remarkably fast and was feeling much better now — and happier too, as September drew to a close, dragging summer away with it and making room for the blissful chilly breezes of autumn. Kai welcomed the change of season with open arms. It was, by far, his favourite time of year; a time for self-indulgence: cosy, oversized grandpa jumpers, endless mugs of hot chocolate and entire mornings with his face buried in mystery books.

So, while his housemates were having a lively chat over breakfast about the upcoming Gryffindor versus Slytherin match arranged for next Saturday, Kai was far too absorbed in the newest addition to his Agatha Christie collection, sipping a heavenly hot chocolate and occasionally nibbling at the brim of his overly long sleeves. He tried to care about quidditch, really, because Soobin and Taehyun loved it — Soobin’s flying had not improved in the slightest, though, so he would probably have to forget all plans of making the team next year, if he still had any — but Kai just didn’t get it. Perhaps he just wasn’t a massive sports nut, as he’d also never cared for Muggle ones. 

Therefore, Kai felt no shame whatsoever in removing himself from the conversation; solving detective cases was far more exciting than speculating about the outcome of a quidditch match, anyway. That’s why he had his eyes glued to his book, hanging on the edge of his seat, every word ingeniously building up the tension towards an earth-shattering plot twist. Just as he was about to turn the page and find out who the murderer was, a flock of owls streamed into the Great Hall, dropping letters and parcels onto the tables, forcing Kai to put his book aside. 

Kai’s mum wrote to him quite regularly, so he was rather used to seeing his owl approaching with a letter tied to her little foot. This time, however, the grey bird dropped a cardboard box onto his lap instead, and simply took off without waiting for him to send anything back. Attached to the box was a small note:

Damn. Emotional blackmail? Really? As if I’d ever fall for such a low move. You’re SO lucky you’re the cutest little thing in the world.

Happy Christmas, I suppose. I love you to bits. 

The boy let out an amused chuckle at his mother’s cheekiness, though a twinge in his heart betrayed just how much he missed her.

“Woah, you’ve got an early Christmas present?” asked Soobin, leaning lazily into Kai and resting his head on his shoulder. “Quite frankly, I’m jealous. Mum would never. My sister would throw a fit if I ever got something she didn’t.”

Kai laughed softly, tilting his head to rest it against Soobin’s.

“The thing about being an only child is that you get showered with presents all the time,” Taehyun said casually, chewing a piece of toast.

Kai raised one eyebrow. He’d never heard anything so out of touch with reality before — and coming from Taehyun, that was really saying a lot.

“That’s definitely not how it works for me, though…” Kai muttered. His family led a comfortable life, financially speaking, sure, but they weren’t wealthy like Taehyun’s. Besides, the fact that Taehyun’s parents had had him much later in life — after believing for decades that they couldn’t have a child — played a huge role in their spoiling him endlessly.

“That’s just ‘cause you’re loaded, mate,” Beomgyu said, giving him playful taps on his back.

“Yeah, you’re one to talk, tosser,” Taehyun shot back.

Beomgyu gave a half-hearted eye roll. “I don’t get showered with presents, by the way, that would be my brother.” 

“Poor thing, you’ve only got one diamond on your robe, haven’t you…” Soobin teased, to which Beomgyu simply pulled a face. Amused, he turned to Kai. “Well? Aren’t you going to open it?”

“Oh.” Kai glanced down at the box, then instinctively at Beomgyu. “Not now.”

Since they had that Thursday morning off, Kai waited until they were back in the dormitory to open the box his mum had sent him. While the other three were far too distracted by Taehyun’s ginormous Montrose Magpies merchandise collection, Kai headed over to his bed, ready to unbox what he already knew was his brand-new Walkman — not that it made it any less exciting, though. Inside the box, exactly as he had asked his mother, was a fully functioning cassette player, two pairs of headphones, and at least a dozen tapes as an extra gift.

Maybe having the coolest mum ever was the universe’s way of making it up to Kai for the whole “turning into a foul beast once a month” thing. As he shoved the Walkman and everything else into his bag, Kai realised it was going to be a hell of a mission to catch Beomgyu alone. Not because they shared an actual secret or anything, but because Taehyun didn’t seem aware of the Walkman incident. Besides, Taehyun and Beomgyu were practically joined at the hip. Kai hadn’t brought it up with Soobin either, so there was no point doing it now, was there? He only had two pairs of headphones, anyway.

However, it seemed as if luck was on Kai’s side. Across the room, Beomgyu looked as though he had grown bored of Taehyun’s boasting; Kai was starting to guess he might not be nearly as interested in quidditch as he let on, because he quickly walked over to his bed, plonked himself onto the mattress and closed the curtains around him, leaving only a small gap through which Kai could still see the top of his head.

Kai wasn’t at all sure whether he could — or should — approach Beomgyu. The grey-eyed boy still intimidated him for reasons he couldn’t quite understand yet, despite having been nothing but friendly ever since their first encounter. This time would be no different, would it? Probably not. But it was still kind of scary, nonetheless.

Either way, Kai gathered the courage to walk up to Beomgyu’s bed and whispered a timid “Hey” from behind the curtains.

Beomgyu pulled them open just enough to make eye contact.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice as gentle as his smile. “To what do I owe the honour?”

Kai snorted and rolled his eyes at Beomgyu’s silly imitation, then knelt down by his bed. “You’ve been waiting to say that to me, haven’t you?”

“Sort of,” Beomgyu admitted with a chuckle. “Everything all right?”

“Yeah, I was just wondering… what are you up to this afternoon?” Kai asked, trying to sound nonchalant while still digging for courage in the depths of his gut. “We’ve got a break between Defence Against the Dark Arts and Charms.”

Surprise flickered across Beomgyu’s face, though it didn’t linger long enough to make either of them feel awkward.

“Taehyun and I have got History homework to finish. Depending on what you’ve got in mind, I might put it off, though. Not that I need a good reason to faff around, do I?”

“I just wanted to show you something, but it doesn't have to be today if you’ve already got plans.”

Beomgyu rolled sideways to face Kai, both hands under the pillow. “Show me what?” he asked, a curious smile playing on his lips. 

“Well… it’s a surprise, innit?”

“Surprise? Why are we whispering, anyway?” Beomgyu asked, but realisation soon caught up with him. “Oh! It’s just the two of us, isn’t it?”

“Only if that’s fine with you, of course,” Kai said quickly, worried he might be misunderstood.

Beomgyu simply smiled, not looking opposed in the slightest.

“I guess Taehyun’s gonna have to handle homework all by himself, then.”

“That’s vile,” Kai said cheekily, earning a giggle from the other boy. “So, um, I’ll be waiting by that tree, is that okay?”

Beomgyu nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

“Nice. See you later, then.”

After Defense Against the Dark Arts, Kai smoothly dodged Soobin’s attempts to get him to play wizard chess — he’d been begging for a rematch ever since Kai had checkmated him twice in a row a couple of days earlier — and headed for the beechwood tree by the Black Lake to wait for Beomgyu. He had no idea whether his housemate would manage to give Taehyun the slip, or even if he’d remember that they had agreed to meet in the first place; but it didn’t really matter much. Kai was equipped with books and music, and an hour’s break on his own would do absolutely no harm.

He sat beneath the shade of the majestic tree’s canopy, his back resting carelessly against the trunk; the leaves were softly tinged with dazzling autumn colours, contrasting beautifully with the dull, cloudy grey sky and the still surface of the Black Lake. The scenery was both alluring and haunting, like something out of a dream. Kai had been contemplating it for quite some time when he finally picked up on the sound of footsteps rustling through the grass. He glanced up to find Beomgyu approaching.

“Hi,” Kai said gently.

“Hello,” Beomgyu greeted with his usual politeness, sitting cross-legged across from Kai. “What is it, then?”

“Don’t get your hopes up, it’s nothing special,” said Kai, reaching for his shoulder bag. “You know the box I got from my mum earlier? There was something for you in it as well.”

“For me?” Beomgyu’s expression twisted into confusion. “Why, though?”

“Because I asked her,” Kai replied matter-of-factly, pulling out the Walkman and the two pairs of headphones from his bag. “Well, she doesn’t exactly know it’s for you, but…”

“I don’t understand,” Beomgyu muttered, shaking his head and frowning. “She got you another Walkman? I can’t believe you told her I—”

“No, Beomgyu, chill. I didn’t tell her a thing about you. I told her it was broken, is all.”

“But I promised I’d get you a new one! Remember?”

“I know, and I appreciate it, but I kinda didn’t feel like waiting… Sorry.” Kai pursed his lips and handed him a pair of headphones. “Anyway, these are for you.”

Beomgyu took them and inspected them closely. His ever-cold eyes, just as grey as the horizon behind him, glimmered with the excitement of a child seeing a toy for the very first time. “What is it called again?”

“They’re headphones. See these?” Kai held the Walkman close to Beomgyu’s face, pointing at two little holes. “These are headphone jacks; it means we can connect two headphones and listen to music together at the same time.”

“I see,” Beomgyu breathed out, watching Kai plug the headphones into the Walkman. 

“You said you wanted me to show you my songs,” said Kai, as if feeling the need to explain himself a little further.

“I did.” Beomgyu nodded shyly. “I do.”

Kai nodded back, an unexpected hint of embarrassment tinting his cheeks a very faint shade of pink.

“Mum sent loads of tapes as well,” he said, grabbing his bag and dropping the tapes onto the grass.

Beomgyu frowned. “So… these are called ‘tapes’ and not records? Weird.” 

“Yeah. Wanna pick one? They’re all mixes, though.”

“Can you smell that?”

“What?”

“My brain,” Beomgyu replied with a smirk. “Completely fried.”

“Oh.” Kai laughed, then picked up a random tape and held it up as though giving a presentation. “This is a tape, yeah? It contains a compilation of songs by different artists, from different times, and so on. That’s why we call it a mix. Mixtape. Got it?”

“I think so. But they all look the same, how am I supposed to pick?”

“Just choose any,” Kai said patiently. When Beomgyu finally picked one from the cluster of tapes scattered across the grass, Kai continued, “Okay. Now put your headphones on.”

As Kai inserted the chosen tape in the Walkman, he couldn’t help but notice that Beomgyu seemed to be struggling to figure out how to wear the headphones properly. 

“You have to wear it over your ear, like this,” said Kai, amused, as he adjusted the headphones around Beomgyu’s head for him. “There. By the way, you never told me what your favourite song is.”

“Well, you never asked.”

Kai snorted. “How rude of me. What is it, then?”

“‘Starman’,” Beomgyu replied, his chest puffing out childishly with pride.

“Oh. By David Bowie?” 

“I… don’t know his name, actually.”

“That lightning bolt you mentioned, it’s gotta be him.”

“So you know the song,” Beomgyu said, his statement sounding more like a question.

“Of course I do, it’s a smash hit. Plays on the radio all the time. Didn’t reckon you’d be into a Muggle song, though, let alone have one as your favourite.”

Beomgyu shrugged. “It’s the only song that makes me wanna listen to it over and over.”

“It’s a great pick. But for the record, my scar does not look like that.”

“I never said it did!” Beomgyu giggled. “I said it reminded me…”

“You’re mental,” Kai said playfully. “Aren’t you into anything else?”

“Well… I don’t know anything else, actually. Muggle, I mean. And wizard songs are a bit… dull? They talk about uninteresting things, do you know what I mean?”

“I don’t really know any wizard songs, but I’ll take your word for it.” 

“Like… I don’t want to listen to a sad girl whining about her pathetic boyfriend giving her a hippogriff for Christmas, do I?” Beomgyu complained, laughing at his own words. 

“No, definitely not,” Kai laughed along. “Well, let’s see if we’re lucky enough to find some Bowie in here then, Mum’s not really a fan.”

“What about you, though?”

“I’m not familiar with his work, actually, apart from a couple songs that play on the radio,” Kai explained, putting on his own headphones and hovering a thumb over the play button. “May I?”

“Sure,” Beomgyu said with a nod.

Then, Kai pressed play, and the first pleasantly familiar notes of a song he dearly loved filled his ears — and Beomgyu’s as well.

“This one’s called ‘California Dreamin'’,” Kai said, lying back on the grass, using his bag as a pillow. “I used to listen to it a lot when I was a kid.” 

“It sounds strange,” Beomgyu said, his voice half-muffled by the music, as he lay on his stomach beside Kai, propping himself up on his elbows.

“It’s okay if you don’t like it,” Kai assured him, closing his eyes to fully appreciate the song as it deserved.

As “California Dreamin'” abruptly ended, the two boys faced each other.

“So?” Kai asked with a faint smile, pressing pause on the Walkman.

“Interesting. I think I’ll just have to listen to it a few more times, though. I didn’t exactly love ‘Starman’ at first.”

“Do you want me to rewind?”

“No, no, it’s all right. Let’s keep going.”

“Okay.”

Kai resumed the tape, and soon the nostalgic piano chords of Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer” came on, taking him back to a time when his mum was utterly obsessed with it — he must’ve been seven or eight. She had picked up baking then, and they spent hours together in the kitchen testing out recipes while playing that song on repeat.

“Beautiful, this one,” Beomgyu said.

“Yeah.”

The mixtape progressed through a variety of genres with no apparent connection, yet everything about it felt unmistakably Mrs Huening-like. Beomgyu seemed to enjoy the songs as well, some more than others; he dropped a comment every so often, with which Kai happily engaged. It was fun, witnessing someone hear for the first time the songs he already knew so well. Beomgyu even hummed along to most of them. Kai would chuckle at the sight, thinking that the boy’s sharp grey eyes didn’t seem so arrogant now.

“What the hell, I can’t make out even half of what this song says!” Beomgyu shouted through the second verse of “Voyage Voyage”, puzzled and frustrated. 

“It’s in French, what did you expect?” Kai shouted back.

“To understand all of it, obviously!”

“But it’s in French!” 

“Duh!” Beomgyu mocked, and both boys ended up laughing out loud with all the shouting.

The song eventually faded out and no other came after; ten songs later, the tape had come to an end, so Kai took off his headphones and laid them on the ground. 

“Of course you speak French,” he said with a faint chuckle of disbelief. “I should’ve guessed.”

“The whole family does — is it over yet?” Beomgyu asked abruptly, removing his headphones as well. When Kai nodded in confirmation, he continued, “Family motto’s in French and everything. Toujours pur.”

“Sounds posh. What does it mean?”

“Always pure.”

“Oh.”

An awkward silence threatened to linger, so Beomgyu said hurriedly, “Anyway, I’ve had French lessons for as long as I can remember. It confused the hell out of me growing up, but after a few years I managed to stop mixing the words.”

“That’s so cool. I can’t speak any other languages.”

“It’s all fun and games until you realise you suck at both. It comes in real handy in public, though. Like when my brother and I speak French at parties so we can judge people’s outfits.”

Once again, they laughed together.

“Must be so nice to have a brother that close in age.”

“Nah.” Beomgyu clicked his tongue. “He gets on my nerves sometimes, and I spend the whole day cursing at him. Follows me around like a puppy, the annoying little brat.”

“Oh, you adore him. I can tell.”

Beomgyu pulled a face of disgust. “No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, right.” Kai pressed his lips together to refrain from smiling. “You don’t.”

“Bloody hell, that just reminded me I forgot to write back to him!” Beomgyu said suddenly, his lips parting wide in astonishment before he let out a guilty laugh. “It’s been a week! He’ll hold a grudge over this forever, just you wait and see.”

“You should get writing to him soon, then.”

“Will do.”

“I suppose I’m okay with being an only child,” said Kai in a weak voice, plucking the grass absent-mindedly as he began looking back on his childhood. “I wouldn’t mind having a sibling, though. Mum and I have so much fun doing all sorts of things together… But it’s not the same, is it? Come to think of it, maybe three’s a crowd. I don’t know, really.”

“It’s quite intriguing, the way you speak about your mother. Taehyun speaks a lot about his mother too, about how great their relationship is and all. Which is odd enough already, but it’s different to how you do it. You make it sound like she’s your best mate.”

“She kind of is my best mate, though. Please, don’t tell her I called her ‘mate’, but, yeah, she’s my best friend. She’s very young and has a lot of nice interests so we get along well. Aren’t you friends with yours?”

“Mine’s just a regular mother.” Beomgyu shrugged, his expression blank. “We don’t really hang out.”

“You don’t talk?”

“What’s there to talk about?”

Kai frowned. “Everything, actually.”

“She just bosses me around. Sometimes I talk back and then she punishes me for it. That’s all there is to it, basically.”

The apathy in Beomgyu’s tone made Kai’s eyebrows raise with concern. The boy summed up his relationship with his mother as nothing but being told what to do and getting punished whenever he didn’t comply, all while sounding as though he genuinely saw it as the norm. Loving relationships, like the ones Kai and Taehyun shared with their own mothers, seemed so foreign to him. Kai couldn’t help but wonder what kind of upbringing Beomgyu must’ve really had; he was raised surrounded by wealth, abundance, and conviction that he belonged in the highest position in the social hierarchy, but when it came to affection… Why was that idea so odd to him? And worse: what did punishment look like in his family?

“Isn’t there anything that she likes to do?” Kai tried. “Any pastimes, any—”

“Oh, absolutely, she loves screaming and having a go at people. She makes a living out of it; quite disturbing, if you ask me. Last victim of her spite was one of my cousins. Mother made sure to personally disown her last summer — you’ve probably seen me speaking to her in the corridors, right? She’s a Slytherin in year seven, ran off to get engaged to her mudblood boyfriend.”

Kai’s jaw clenched involuntarily. Ever since he’d set foot in Hogwarts, he’d known for a fact that “mudblood” was a derogatory term, aimed especially at Muggle-borns, yet often used by pure-bloods to refer to half-bloods like him as well.

“Wait, I didn't — I didn’t mean that,” Beomgyu stammered nervously upon realising what he had just said, eyes widening in fright.

“It’s fine,” Kai murmured, even though it wasn’t.

“No, listen,” Beomgyu insisted. “I meant no offence, really—”

“None taken.”

“It just… came out. But I know that I shouldn’t say it, all right? Taehyun keeps telling me off about this, but sometimes I forget—”

“Let’s just drop it, yeah?” Kai cut him off, pushing himself up to start gathering the tapes. “We’re supposed to be heading to class, anyway.”

Beomgyu nodded, quietly watching Kai place everything into his bag.

“Keep them, they’re yours,” Kai said, handing over the second pair of headphones and getting to his feet.

“We should do this again some other time,” Beomgyu suggested tentatively, standing up as well.

“Sure. We’ve got a year’s worth of tapes.”

“Haven’t we,” Beomgyu muttered as he put his own headphones inside his bag. They exchanged a faint smile and, side by side, began strolling back towards the castle. When the sound of their footsteps became too uncomfortable to bear, he asked, “Are you mad at me?”

“I think I’m getting a feeling of déjà vu… How about you?” Kai cast him a teasing glance. “I’m not mad, though. I get why that word comes naturally to you, but at least you know it’s bad. All water under the bridge, I suppose.”

Then he shrugged. Kai was being sincere. After all, Beomgyu was eleven years old; he wasn’t the one to blame for his family’s bigotry. If he was willing to change his behaviour, then why not give him credit for it?

“Thanks for showing me the songs, by the way,” Beomgyu said.

The welcome change of topic made the air feel a tad lighter, and Kai was silently grateful.

“Don’t mention it. How’d you like them?”

“I think they were pretty good, overall.” 

“Any song in particular you’ve liked best?”

“Um…” Beomgyu twisted his lips, and Kai could almost see the gears turning in his head. “If I had to choose just one… Bloody hell. I mean, they were all nice, but I think… the one about mind games or something. Yeah, that one stood out the most.”

“Really? That would be ‘Mind Games’ by John Lennon. He’s one of the Beatles. Ever heard of them?”

“Um… no.”

“They’re a proper famous band. Mum’s a massive fan, and she’s kind of a Lennon girl.”

“She’s got taste, then.”

“That she does.”

“I have a Muggle friend, just so you know,” Beomgyu blurted, out of the blue.

Kai raised his eyebrows, genuinely baffled and confused as to why Beomgyu felt the need to share that information. “Do you really?”

“Yeah, he’s the one that showed me ‘Starman’.”

“Nice. What’s his name?”

“Well, I…” Beomgyu scratched the spot behind his ear. “I don’t know his name.”

“You’re not very good with names, are you?” Kai teased. “Do you even know mine?”

“I knew your name before you even told me, silly.”

Kai gave him a sidelong glance. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, I—”

“There you are!” Taehyun shouted from a short distance as soon as Beomgyu and Kai approached an archway leading to a corridor packed with students. “Where’ve you two been?” 

“Just hanging out by the lake,” Beomgyu said casually as they walked up to him.

“Soobin?” asked Kai.

“He headed to Charms already, thought you’d be in the classroom.”

“Let’s get moving, then,” Beomgyu said, throwing an arm around Taehyun’s shoulders. 

Together, the three of them headed to class. Right before entering the classroom, Kai’s eyes landed on Beomgyu. The grey-eyed boy glanced back at him and they exchanged quiet smiles, so subtly and quickly that Kai might have imagined it.

Chapter Text

🌙

As for the musical get-togethers under the beechwood tree, Kai and Beomgyu kept them going religiously. Once a week, at least, they would enjoy some of their free time in each other’s company; they’d randomly pick a tape and get immersed in the soundtrack of the day. Sometimes they would talk about life. Most of the time, their debates would stick strictly to music, analysing track by track and sharing their thoughts on each one. Whatever the topic, Kai felt much more comfortable and laid-back around Beomgyu now, enough that he could call him a friend — although he wasn’t exactly sure they were on the same page.

Meanwhile, Kai felt that he and Taehyun had become somewhat less distant as well; Taehyun and Soobin would tag along with Kai and Beomgyu every now and then, though not actively engaging with their music sessions. Inevitably, the four boys ended up spending more time together as a group as October went by. Was Taehyun still the least close to Kai out of the three? Positive. Did Kai still think Taehyun was, more often than not, an arrogant sod? Well… Yes. And last but not least: did Kai still find Taehyun’s quidditch obsession kind of annoying? Definitely. Very much so. But progress was being made, nonetheless; Taehyun had been the only one sensible enough not to ask Kai any questions upon his arrival from the second full moon, and Kai appreciated it deeply. 

By the end of the month, the entire castle had been decorated with creepy — and far too realistic — ornaments, from flocks of bats that flew over the students' heads along the corridors to ginormous spider webs that stretched from the ceilings down the stone walls. The Great Hall was a spectacle of its own: the thousands of floating candles had each been placed inside hollowed-out pumpkins, and the flickering flames shining through the carvings created a sight that was just as beautiful as it was spooky.

Apparently, Halloween was a huge deal to everyone at Hogwarts, Kai observed. Each house threw their own private party in their respective common rooms after curfew on the 31st, which had been the talk of the school for at least one week leading up to it. On actual Halloween night, the Gryffindor table buzzed with excitement over the upcoming party — an endless debate on what costumes to wear and who was supposed to make a move on whom. Much to Beomgyu and Taehyun’s displeasure, however, only fifth-years and up were allowed to attend.

“I still can’t believe that we’re going to miss out on something like that!” Taehyun complained over dinner, poking at the food on his plate. “Bet Beomgyu and I are more fun than all of them idiots combined.”

“Chill, mate, we’ve got seven years ahead of us,” Soobin said, not looking or sounding disappointed in the slightest. “It’s the noise I’m worried about, actually. What if I can’t sleep tonight?”

“Rubbish,” Beomgyu scoffed. “You won’t sleep either way. We’re gatecrashing, all four of us.” 

“We are not crashing any gates, Choi,” Soobin replied flatly. “I’ve heard that strange things happen at those parties.”

“What kind of things?” Kai asked, even though he was far more interested in the chips on his plate.

“Haven't I told you? There's loads of alcohol, hallucinogenic plants and people snogging everywhere!”

“Wicked,” Beomgyu and Taehyun said in unison.

“You’re eleven,” Soobin retorted. 

“Are you daft?” Beomgyu threw a chip across the table right at Soobin’s face, missing by an inch. “It's not like we're doing any of those things, is it?” 

“Yeah, we just want to dress up and pull pranks on people,” Taehyun chimed in.

“Sounds fun,” Kai deadpanned. 

“No, it doesn't,” Soobin countered. 

“Sarcasm.”

“What if we threw our own party in the dormitory, though?” Beomgyu suggested, glancing at Taehyun; it came as no surprise that his opinion was the only one that counted. “We could still dress up after pranking Knobjun.”

Taehyun’s shark-like teeth peeked through his grin. “Brilliant!”

“What are you two on about?” Kai asked with genuine curiosity, as he had absolutely no clue how Choi Yeonjun, a Slytherin boy in their year, had popped up in the conversation in the first place. 

Soobin let out a loud, frustrated sigh. “I’m not getting any sleep tonight, am I?”

“You can have my headphones,” Kai said softly, offering him a couple of little consolation taps on his left knee, before turning to the other two boys across the table. “Can we just not have a party, though? It’s school night and—”

“So what?” Taehyun’s retort came with a shrug. “You nerds can't go to bed a couple of hours later? Honestly, just when we” — he pointed at himself and then at Beomgyu, who nodded in encouragement — “finally agreed to initiate you in the fantastic yet misunderstood art of mischief-making…”

“That's right,” said Beomgyu.

“Nice, mate, but here's the thing: do we” — Soobin mirrored Taehyun, pointing at himself and Kai — “want to be initiated? Ever thought about that?”

Taehyun clicked his tongue in disapproval. 

“Kai, you can come along if he doesn't want to,” Beomgyu said with a sly smirk, deliberately ignoring Soobin’s stubbornness.

“Besides, we have something wicked to show you, don’t we?” Taehyun added, his arrogance unshaken. “You’ll regret passing on this chance, mate.”

Soobin snorted. “You mean he’ll regret avoiding detention?”

“Let’s all pretend I don’t exist for five minutes, yeah?” Kai snapped, and the other three boys went silent as they tried their best to hold back from laughing. 

The bantering resumed after a few moments, naturally. Beomgyu and Taehyun, especially Taehyun, kept on attempting to get the other two to join them in their mischief. Soobin gave in eventually, and Kai was fine to go with whatever his friend decided.

“So, what’s the amazing plan?” Soobin asked, sounding quite fed up, as the four boys squeezed into a broom cupboard near the Great Hall’s entrance. 

“We’re going to hex Yeonjun with the dancing feet spell,” Beomgyu whispered cheerfully; he sounded as though he was about to have the time of his life.  

“That’s right, we’ll embarrass him so badly in front of that stupid girl Chaewon that he won’t show up to class for a week,” said Taehyun, just as euphoric.

“She’s not stupid,” Kai said flatly, “she's the best in our year, actually.”

“Not better than me, is she,” Taehyun scoffed, not giving Kai enough time to say that yes, Chaewon was, in fact, much better than Taehyun at every subject he could remember — except Flying, that would be pushing too far. “Anyway, we wait until they come out of the Great Hall and hit him right with the spell!”

“Inspiring.” Soobin feigned a yawn. “And how do you expect us to get away with this exactly?”

“Choi Soobin, mate, you’ve asked just the right question.” 

And just as his entire life had been leading up to that moment, Taehyun theatrically pulled from his bag a gleaming, silvery cloth — which, under the poor lighting inside the cupboard, looked as though it were made out of water — and gazed at it with huge, sparkly eyes, as if holding his most prized possession.

“Hold on a second…” Soobin muttered, his eyes narrowing with interest as he leaned forward for a closer look. “Is that what I think it is?”

Completely in the dark about whatever was going on, all there was left for Kai to do was steal glances at the other three, hoping nobody noticed how clueless he was.

“If you’re thinking invisibility cloak, then you’ve guessed right,” Taehyun boasted, throwing the cloth around his shoulders, which rendered his body invisible from the neck down.

Kai had to blink a few times just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating — Taehyun’s head was floating, right before his eyes. Hovering in midair. Just like that.

“Holy cricket!” Soobin exclaimed in awe, his jaw dropping. “How do you even have that? They’re proper rare!”

“Family heirloom,” Taehyun said casually, shrugging his invisible shoulders. 

“This is how we sneak around the castle at night,” Beomgyu said. “Now, all we’ve got to do is hide under the cloak — there’s room for all of us — and wave a wand.”

“And who’s waving that wand, huh?” Soobin mocked, letting out a chuckle. “Not me!”

“Neither am I, to be honest,” Kai said.

“As if the two of you could even manage it,” Beomgyu scoffed childishly. “I’ll do it myself.”

“Careful not to blow up anything,” Kai teased.

“Oh, shut up,” Beomgyu muttered under his breath, barely holding back a smile.

The others didn’t seem to have picked up on their inside joke; Soobin was busy inspecting the invisibility cloak as if he had found a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, while Taehyun was too caught up in the ecstasy of being the one to provide such a mind-boggling experience to his housemates.

“Let’s get going then, or else we’ll miss Yeonjun,” Beomgyu said, urging everyone to get under the cloak.

The four invisible boys then left the broom cupboard and walked down the corridor rather sloppily, as they were squeezed together so tightly that it was almost impossible for them not to stand on each other’s foot. They waited quietly for about ten minutes, though Taehyun and Beomgyu occasionally muttered a few mean comments about passing students. Kai found it unbearable, being confined under that cloak, trying not to breathe too loudly whilst sweating from the combined body heat of four people.

Kai thanked a god he wasn’t even sure existed upon finally catching sight of Yeonjun in the corridor, leaving the Great Hall in the company of his one and only friend, as usual.

“Look at the way he giggles at everything she says,” Taehyun sneered, shaking his head. “Totally fancies her, the little knob.”

“He looks like he hasn’t showered in weeks,” Beomgyu added. “Do you reckon all of that hair grease could be used for deep frying?”

Soobin leaned over to Kai and whispered, “Oi, do you think they say crap like that about us behind our backs?”

“Bet they do,” Kai chuckled.

“Hey, we’ve never said anything bad about you,” Beomgyu protested, looking over his shoulder at Kai and Soobin, who were standing behind him.

“Haven’t we? You literally called Soobin a weirdo three days ago,” Taehyun said with a mischievous smirk.

Beomgyu tilted his head in Taehyun’s direction, eyes going wide with exasperation. “Making things up now, are you?” he huffed. 

“Thank you, honey,” Soobin said with mock tenderness, patting Beomgyu twice on the shoulder. “Coming from you, that’s a compliment.”

“Shut it, all of you,” Taehyun hissed. “Yeonjun’s getting closer. Beomgyu, wand at the ready.”

Rather grumpily, Beomgyu pulled out his wand and held his breath to concentrate. Just When Yeonjun got close enough to reduce the risk of a bad aim, Beomgyu pointed his wand at him from beneath the cloak’s brim and murmured the incantation. Promptly, a purple beam shot out of the wand’s tip and flew straight towards Yeonjun, causing the Slytherin boy’s legs to suddenly start moving uncontrollably as if he were dancing, very unskillfully so. 

Shock spread rapidly across Chaewon’s delicate features as Yeonjun begged for her help, but she was frozen in place. Students began gathering around the dancing boy, most of them in fits of laughter, and some even pointing their fingers mockingly at him, but none willing to come to his rescue. Humiliation took a step further when Yeonjun tried to reach for his own wand, but ended up dropping it to the floor due to the frantic moves.

“Oh, Gosh, Jjunie, I can’t — remember — the words,” Chaewon cried desperately, walking in circles as she yanked her own hair. “Finite… something. What was it again?”

Underneath the invisibility cloak, two boys enjoyed themselves profusely, while the other two didn’t know what to think about the whole thing. Yeonjun could be quite unpleasant and rude, indeed, but did he truly deserve to be publicly humiliated like that? Completely unprovoked? Kai wasn’t so sure.

“Guys, shouldn’t we, um… stop, perhaps?” Kai suggested tentatively.

“Go ahead, then,” Taehyun challenged him.

“But I don’t know the counterspell.”

“I guess he'll have to keep dancing for a bit longer, then.”

“Old Maggie’s coming,” Beomgyu whispered as he spotted Professor McGonagall stomping down the corridor towards the crowd. “Hurry up, let’s hide somewhere and pretend we’ve just arrived.”

Quickly, the four boys moved through the pack of students, careful not to bump into anyone, and hid behind a stone column. Then, Taehyun pulled off the cloak, shoved it inside his bag, and they made their way back to the mayhem they had caused themselves, acting nonchalant as if they’d just left the Great Hall from dinner. They watched in silence as Professor McGonagall, who seemed about to blow steam from her nostrils, drew her wand and pointed it at a mortified Yeonjun.

“Finite Incantatem,” the witch said forcefully, terminating the effect of Beomgyu’s hex.

Yeonjun gasped for air, his legs nearly crumbling from exhaustion.

McGonagall glanced at the audience of students, fury growing in her light-coloured eyes. “What are you all still doing here? Show's over! Off to your houses!” she shouted, then turned to Yeonjun, “Mr Choi, Miss Kim. Please, follow me.”

The feigned innocence began to wear off the four boys’ faces as the crowd slowly dispersed, each student resuming the path they had been on before Choi Yeonjun became the centre of attention.

“Brilliant, mate,” Taehyun blurted in his usual smug tone, flinging his arm around Beomgyu. “That git had it coming.”

“Did he really?” Kai muttered absent-mindedly, only realising that he had let slip a very private thought after the words had already fallen off his lips.

Taehyun scoffed, looking a bit offended as he stared at Kai with his ever big, brown eyes, although his round spectacles made them look smaller. “Stop being such a buzzkill, we were just having a laugh. Do you think Knobjun deserves anyone feeling sorry for him?”

Kai silently cursed himself. What did he have to open his damn mouth for? Now that the damage was done, he had no choice but to stand his ground.

“All I’m saying is that it can’t have been a good idea to embarrass a person to that extent—”

“Who cares about that sod?” Taehyun halted, and the others followed suit. Letting go of Beomgyu, he turned to face Kai. “I’m sorry, but you weren’t here when Beomgyu and I saw him laughing while some older Slytherins picked on a poor Muggle-born girl just for being a Muggle-born, were you?”

“No, I wasn’t,” Kai replied, doing his best to sound and look unfazed, though Taehyun’s attitude had him feeling quite uneasy.

“Thought so. For the record, they were using real, dangerous curses, not some harmless dancing spell!”

Soobin cleared his throat.

Beomgyu stepped in, touching Taehyun’s arm gently. “Dial it down a bit, mate, yeah?”

“It’s all right,” Taehyun waved it off. Something seemed to have snapped inside him, for next thing Kai knew, Taehyun was smiling as if things weren’t about to go downhill. “We’re not arguing, are we?” 

Kai shrugged. “Whatever. Yeonjun can go to hell for all I care,” he said flatly, walking away.

“See? Now that’s the spirit! I knew you’d get it, mate,” Taehyun cheered with satisfaction as he trailed behind Kai and threw an arm around his shoulders, earning a sidelong glance from him. Kai strongly disliked the sensation. “So, what are we dressing up as for tonight?”

“I’m going as a bear!” Soobin exclaimed as he raised one finger up in the air, walking side by side with Kai. 

Taehyun glanced at him, brows furrowed. “Bear?” 

“What’s a bear to do with Halloween?” Beomgyu asked from the opposite end of the row.

“Nothing, I’m just gonna hibernate while you three idiots party,” Soobin retorted, cracking up with his own punchline.

“Wait, you’re not leaving me alone with these two, are you?” Kai asked, feigning despair — though he was a bit desperate with too much physical contact with Taehyun. “Thought you were my friend.”

“Friendships have boundaries,” Soobin said in a deeper voice, his face shifting from humour to mock earnestness. 

“Suck it up, lad, you're not sleeping,” Beomgyu teased him. 

Soobin flashed him a playful smirk. “You’ve got a bit of a death wish, haven’t you?”

“I think I’m going as a ghost,” Taehyun commented, ignoring their bantering. 

“I suppose I’ll be Dracula,” Beomgyu said.

“No need to dress up, then,” Soobin teased back.

Beomgyu stared at him coldly, his sharp, deadly eyes making Soobin’s body go stiff on the spot. Taehyun’s laughter faded. Kai found the whole scene quite amusing.

“I’m gonna be honest with you,” Soobin whispered into Kai’s ear. “He still creeps me out a bit.”

“I can bloody hear you,” Beomgyu hissed.

“Gonna hit me with a dancing spell, are you?” Soobin taunted further. “I’ve got moves, you know.”

“Your sense of self-preservation is kinda lacking, though,” Kai said.

“If you piss me off, I might,” Beomgyu threatened, leaving no room for doubt.

“Oh, I’m shitting my pants,” Soobin went on, waving both of his hands mockingly, and Beomgyu decided he was no longer having any of it; he drew his wand swiftly and dashed towards Soobin, but Soobin spun on his heel and stood behind Kai to use him as shield, just as Beomgyu was a second away from grabbing him by the collar. “Wait, wait, wait, I’m sorry!” Soobin shouted, his voice pathetically high-pitched, as he crouched down to completely disappear behind Kai’s small frame. “You absolutely do not creep me out, and there’s no resemblance whatsoever between you and Dracula, I promise! Please, don’t kill me!”

Kai and Taehyun’s laughter echoed across the empty corridor.

“I’m not sure… Should I have mercy on you?” Beomgyu asked in a smooth yet frightening voice, pretending to deliberate on his housemate’s fate as he tried to chase after him, but Soobin kept running in circles around the other two boys. “Or should I hex you for hiding and screaming like a whiny girl?”

“Please, I’ll do anything!” Soobin shouted, barely stopping himself from laughing.

“Oh.” Beomgyu came to a sudden halt. “Fine. We’ve got a deal.”

“And what is it?” Soobin muttered suspiciously, his head slowly poking out from behind Taehyun’s shoulder.

“You dress up as a clown and we’re even,” Beomgyu spat, crossing his arms over his chest. “Though you don’t actually need a costume for that, do you…”

“You know it’s not funny when you say it, right?” Soobin remarked bitterly.

“Do I look like I care?”

“All right, all right…” Soobin didn’t seem satisfied in the slightest, but he was clever enough to know that putting on clown make-up was a far less humiliating punishment than whatever spell Beomgyu might have had in mind. “Deal.”

Back in the dormitory, the boys began getting ready for Halloween night, each in their own manner; Soobin and Kai freshened up, pulled on their pyjamas and hopped into bed, silently hoping that the other two would drop the whole party thing. However, as it turned out, Beomgyu and Taehyun had quickly spread the word across the younger students, and now a small party that would have initially consisted of only four guests had escalated considerably; amongst boys and girls from years one to four, more than twenty people were expected to show up.

“I can’t believe you two invited people to our room!” Soobin cried, his face twisting with agony as he glanced over at Kai, seeking emotional support.

Kai glanced back at him, although the weary look in his eyes clearly suggested that Soobin should give in already. It was no use going against Taehyun and Beomgyu.

“And we also brought face paint and fake blood from downstairs,” Beomgyu said nonchalantly, tossing a couple of bottles of paint onto Soobin’s bed. “That clown better look good, or else…”

“Yeah, got it,” Soobin mumbled grumpily, picking up the tiny bottles and walking over to the only mirror in the room, in front of which Taehyun was standing while thoroughly painting his own face white. “Move over.”

Taehyun willingly shifted aside to make room for Soobin, allowing them to share the mirror, and all the while Kai lay curled up under his blanket, relishing the last few moments of quietness he knew he had left.

“I see you haven’t picked a costume yet,” Beomgyu remarked softly, approaching Kai’s bed with a few bottles of paint in hand.

“I’m going as myself,” Kai replied, pointing to the scar across his right eye. “This should do.”

Beomgyu let out a weak laugh.

“Come on, it’s a Halloween party. Let’s get paint on that face, shall we,” he said, sitting cross-legged on Kai’s bed without asking for permission and laying the bottles on the mattress. 

“Do I really have to?” Kai whined, letting out a theatrically long sigh as he pushed himself up to sit upright.

“Yeah.” 

“Think you could at least… maybe… I dunno, cover it up?” 

Beomgyu furrowed his eyebrows. “Do you mean your scar?”

Kai nodded.

“Why would you want it covered up?” Beomgyu asked, reaching for a bottle of paint that looked somewhere between red and vivid orange.

“Why wouldn’t I want it covered up?” Kai retorted matter-of-factly. 

“Well… I told you it looks cool, didn’t I?”

“Bollocks.”

“If you don’t believe me, then that’s your problem, silly,” Beomgyu said, his voice friendly and warm; he then smiled and dipped his index finger into the reddish-orange paint. “Now close your eyes.”

“I wonder where this is going…” 

“Just shut up and do as I say.”

Kai took a deep breath, and his eyes fluttered shut. He felt Beomgyu’s fingertip gently touching his face, slowly spreading the paint across his skin, like a soft brush. It tickled a little, and Kai had to press his lips together to refrain from giggling at first, but he adjusted to the feeling in no time. It felt nice, actually. Kai had no clue what to expect, but he did manage to be at ease beneath the sensation of Beomgyu’s finger, in a way, caressing him; sliding from his forehead all the way down to his jawline; then from his nose bridge to his cheekbone; then tracing his scar. Kai had never been touched there. The thought of being touched there had never even crossed his mind before, yet he was caught completely off guard by the realisation that it didn’t feel the last bit uncomfortable.   

“Excuse me, Mr Beomgyu, heir of the noble Choi family, do I have to paint a clown nose as well?” Soobin asked from across the room, his grumpiness unchanged. 

“Um… yeah, sure, make it very big and red,” Beomgyu replied lazily, as he was too focused on whatever he was painting on Kai’s face. “Here, I’m done with red.”

Kai opened his eyes just in time to see Beomgyu closing the bottle of red paint and throwing it over to Soobin.

“I’m done with red, not with you,” Beomgyu snapped.

“Sorry,” Kai chuckled, closing his eyes again.

“Thank you.”

Although Kai could no longer see him, he could feel Beomgyu’s shifting from side to side, the mattress sinking and rising as he searched for a more comfortable position. Then, Kai heard the sound of a bottle lid being unscrewed, and shortly afterwards Beomgyu’s index finger was once more pressed against his skin.

It was far quicker, this time. Beomgyu’s finger slid down Kai’s face in one single brush.

“All right, I’m done now,” he said in a weak voice. “It hasn’t turned out quite like I’d imagined, but…”

“God,” Kai whispered suspiciously, slowly opening his eyes, one at a time. Beomgyu was half-smiling and holding a bottle of blue paint. “What’ve you done, huh?” 

“Well, I’d intended to go for something else, but you asked me to cover it up, so…” Beomgyu replied, twitching his lips; Kai couldn’t tell whether he was trying to hold back a laugh.

“Will you stop looking at me like there’s shit on my face or something?” Kai joked, giggling as he jumped out of bed and walked over to the mirror, squeezing between Soobin and Taehyun so he could get a close look at his make-up. 

Kai burst out laughing the moment he saw his reflection and recognised the red and blue lightning shape roughly painted across his face. Beomgyu laughed along. Soobin and Taehyun exchanged confused glances before staring at Kai as though he were the strangest person they’d ever laid eyes on.

“What the hell is that supposed to be and why do you seem to find it so incredibly funny?” Soobin enquired, beyond annoyed, as he tried to fix a red smudge on his nose.

“I’m David Bowie,” Kai explained, standing comfortably in front of the mirror now that Taehyun had left to rummage through his trunk for some white clothes.

“David who?” Taehyun asked, looking rather skull-like with his paper-white layer of make-up and huge black circles painted around his eyes.

“Who’s David?” asked Soobin, sounding a tad more interested. 

“That Muggle singer he likes,” Kai said, pointing a thumb at Beomgyu as the boy approached them.

“Looking charming, mate,” Beomgyu mocked as he patted Soobin’s back twice, promptly earning a petulant glare from him.

“Aren’t you dressing up, by the way?” Kai asked.

“The fake blood will do.” Beomgyu shrugged. “I don’t actually need anything else — or so I’ve been told.”

“I was under the impression that we were even,” Soobin grumbled.

“You don’t really sound like you want us to be, do you?” 

Soobin pulled a disgusted face, which looked even funnier with the clown make-up on, and stuck his tongue out childishly.

“I really hope you two never stop bickering,” Kai said fondly.

The four boys had no sooner finished getting ready than people started to arrive. Kai felt quite inadequate and self-conscious at the beginning, as interacting with strangers in a social gathering — one that just happened to be taking place in his own dormitory — wasn’t a situation for which life had prepared him. However, Taehyun and Beomgyu, especially Taehyun, knew just how to entertain a crowd. There was absolutely no denying that Taehyun was a born leader, and an even more brilliant host; everyone, even older students, seemed to stop whatever they were doing just to listen to him whenever he spoke.

Something that Kai found rather curious how easily those older students had accepted the invitation to a party thrown by first-years. He could never have imagined that teenagers would willingly hang out with children; he couldn’t even picture himself hanging out with kids younger than him, so what business did thirteen- and fourteen-year-olds — who already dated and kissed on the mouth — possibly have spending time with eleven-year-olds? Then again, they were probably too displeased at not being allowed into the older students’ party, where the actual interesting things happened: loads of booze, loads of weed, loads of making out.

In the end, the Halloween party was much more fun than Kai had anticipated. Somebody had brought a record player, so there was music playing all the time. Kai and Soobin spent most of it together in a corner, occasionally chatting with a few people nearby; a second-year boy, certainly a Muggle-born, recognised Kai’s make-up from one of David Bowie’s albums and tried to be friendly, but Kai’s poor knowledge of Bowie’s discography wasn't quite enough to maintain even half a minute of conversation.

Those unsatisfied with just chatting took turns playing wizard games, such as Gobstones and Exploding Snap. Braver than the rest, a group of third and fourth-years decided to play Truth or Dare; there were plenty of embarrassing dares, some shy confessions and even a few stolen pecks.

After the last person finally left, around one in the morning, the four boys freshened up and went straight to bed. Even though Kai hadn’t played any games or chatted with that many people, he still had a warm, fizzy feeling in his chest, one he could confidently label as joy. It was genuine joy at having experienced something so drastically mundane and obvious, such as school kids gathering for a bit of harmless, frivolous fun; something most people might consider ordinary, but which, to him, felt out of this world. However much of an introvert Kai was, he would never take it for granted.

Chapter Text

🌙

The first half of November had been uneventful — which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Kai liked uneventful. He liked being just like the average student battling endless piles of schoolwork whilst trying to breathe and maintain a proper social life. Except he wasn’t at all average and didn’t have a proper social life, as he would rather pretend. The reason why he had to struggle to be up to date with the school schedule was one too terrifying to even say aloud. However, as the full moon creeped up on him for the third time since the start of term, the illusion of normality started to shatter yet again.

Perhaps, after all, normality was just a trap; a very dangerous and ingenious one. It had him believing that he could achieve things that were actually too far out of reach, only to shove him into a bottomless pit of guilt in the end. Friendship, for instance. Could he ever, truly, have real friends? He didn’t think so. Kai had started to feel bad about lying to the people he’d grown to care about, and it wasn’t until two nights away from the full moon that he realised it.

On a Monday night, in the boys’ dormitory, Kai had been quietly packing for the next couple of days when Soobin walked over to him and casually sat on his bed.

“Going home again?” Soobin asked, glancing down at Kai’s backpack. 

“Um, actually, yeah,” Kai breathed out, not bearing to look his friend in the eye. “It was kind of a last-minute thing… You know, my mum and stuff.”

“Got it.” Soobin nodded slowly; silence stretched uncomfortably for a moment before he asked, “Everything all right, though? You look a bit… uptight.”

“Just a little worried, is all.”

Kai flashed him a reassurance smile that was nothing short of fake.

“Listen, I know you don’t wanna talk about it, but… If you ever want to, you know—”

“Sure,” Kai cut him off, feeling his heart break into a thousand little pieces he wouldn’t ever be able to pick up. “I appreciate it. We have loads of homework to do, by the way. Think you can handle them all by yourself while I’m gone?”

“Of course I can. I’m actually smarter than you, y’know,” Soobin teased, letting out a playful laugh that managed to lighten the mood a bit. “Will you be gone long?”

“Dunno. Probably just a couple of days. I mean, hopefully.”

“Hopefully.”

The next morning, despite his best efforts to get up without making a sound, Kai ended up stubbing his toe on his trunk, and the dull thud instantly woke Beomgyu, who had been snoring faintly just a second earlier.

“Bloody hell,” Kai cursed under his breath, turning to face the other boy. “Sorry.”

“Wher’you goin’?” Beomgyu mumbled, face puffy and voice sluggish with sleep.

Kai thought that if he took long enough to answer the question, Beomgyu might just fall back asleep and he would be off the hook. Of course, that didn’t happen. Beomgyu kept staring at him demandingly.

“Home,” Kai said, swallowing dryly as he made to turn around. “See you when I get back.”

“Wait!” Propped on his elbows, Beomgyu pushed himself up. “You all right?”

“Yeah, fine. You?”

“Are you sure? You look a bit haggard.”

“It’s barely six in the morning, what did you expect?” Kai giggled, not letting on how tense he was actually feeling. “You're going to wake the others, go back to sleep.”

“No, Kai, seriously. What’s with you?” Beomgyu shook his head, watching his friend with concern. “I can come with you to the hospital wing if you want.”

“Don't,” Kai said sharply as Beomgyu started to crawl out of bed, which prompted the boy to halt abruptly. Regretful of his tone, Kai added with a much gentler voice, “I really gotta go. My dad’s probably waiting for me already.”

“Oh,” Beomgyu whispered. “Fine, then.”

“I’ll be back soon, don't worry. The Walkman is in my drawer, yeah?”

Without waiting for an answer from Beomgyu — otherwise he'd have to keep lying over and over — Kai spun on his heel and left the dormitory, heading towards the hospital wing; it was a bit ironic, to say the least, considering that Beomgyu had just offered to come with him, entirely unaware that it was exactly where Kai needed to go.

As he made his way over, he couldn’t stop himself from drowning in the tide of somber thoughts that usually rose as the full moon raced closer. He regretted having allowed himself to make friends, to get his housemates to care for him; it would have all been so much easier, had he not been so selfish and just accepted his doom. Had he just accepted that he was simply fated to loneliness, he wouldn’t have to lie to anyone. 

Upon walking past the Clock Tower, Kai wished he could go back in time. If he could, he would go back to the moment Soobin spoke to him for the very first time, on the Hogwarts Express. He wouldn’t have taken his earphones off; he would’ve pretended not to see Soobin waving at him; he would’ve gone out of his way to come across as rude and unfriendly. And had he still been sorted into Gryffindor, he would’ve just stuck to impolite greetings and grumpy head nods whenever any of the boys approached him.

His friends only cared about him because they had no clue what he really was, anyway. They liked him because they didn't actually know him. That’s why, if Kai were to think rationally, there was no reason to feel sorry at all; still, there wasn’t anything rational about the way he loathed himself and secretly wished his friends did the same.

It was a Friday morning when he came back, all worn out from the endless smashing against the shack’s walls and the frustrated attempts at freeing himself from the heavy chains. The weather was especially cold, since winter was barely a month away, so Kai’s bones hurt a lot more than usual. Madam Pomfrey had patched him up and there were no wounds left in sight, yet Kai still looked like he was on death’s door. The witch noticed, and so did he, that the wolf had grown somewhat stronger. This time, the injuries were more severe than in the past two months; as if that bloody animal didn’t do enough damage already, of course the transformations had to get worse as Kai got older. Couldn’t he ever catch a break?

Well, apparently not. Kai had expected to find the common room completely empty, considering how early it was, but luck was definitely not on his side.

Seated carelessly in an armchair beside the fireplace, Taehyun greeted him, "Hi there, mate."

Kai’s body went stiff with fear at the sight of Taehyun, but he smiled softly.

“Have you fallen out of bed?” Kai teased in his best playful tone.

“Worse. I had an awful nightmare about my parents dying, then I woke up and there was lovely Soobin snoring like a troll,” Taehyun said, sounding annoyed. “Couldn’t go back to sleep, could I, so I came downstairs.”

“Sorry.”

“Everything all right at home?”

“Yeah.” Kai nodded quickly. “Everything good.”

There was a brief moment of silence, during which Taehyun seemed to search for the right words to say.

“Listen, mate…” he began, tentatively, licking his lips before continuing, “If there's anything I can do, just let me know, yeah?”

“Oh.” Suddenly apprehensive, Kai clutched onto his backpack strap. “Sure. Will do. Thanks. Um… Now I just need to get some rest and, you know, unwind a bit.”

“Off you go, then,” Taehyun said with mock authority as they exchanged friendly smiles.

Taehyun still wasn’t Kai’s favourite person in the world, but he couldn’t stress enough how much he appreciated the boy’s discretion. No curiosity. No questions asked. No unnecessary comments on Kai’s physical condition as if he didn’t inhabit his own body. Just plain support.

Exhausted beyond measure, physically as well as mentally, Kai climbed up the stairs to the dormitory, where Beomgyu and Soobin were still fast asleep, thankfully. Taehyun had not exaggerated in the slightest, by the way; Soobin was, in fact, snoring like a troll. But Kai was so knackered that his friend’s snoring actually sounded like music to his ears, sending him into a deep slumber in a matter of seconds.

The next day — and, of course, after eating a hearty breakfast — Kai felt far less of an absolute crap. It was a lovely Saturday, and although the sun had decided to miraculously grace the school grounds with its mighty presence, the autumn air had turned even colder. Therefore, Soobin and Kai opted to stay in the warmth of the Gryffindor common room and get homework done, while Taehyun and Beomgyu went on a little journey in search of a mysterious door they had stumbled across a few days before, but never found again.

“I’m really looking forward to the snow,” Soobin said excitedly, rubbing his palms together near the crackling fireplace. “Do you like the snow?

“Actually, I… I mean, it’s beautiful. But I’ve never been out in the snow, so I don’t really know.” 

“Excuse me, are you telling me you’ve never been in a snowball fight in your life?” Soobin sounded as surprised as he looked offended. “You’ve never been ice skating?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Kai said with a smirk as he passed the History essay across the centre table to Soobin. “Check paragraph two, will you? I think we might’ve got some dates wrong.”

“Can’t be, I’ve checked a million times!”

“This book makes me suicidal, I swear to God, and I actually like to read.”

“I’m not going over this again,” Soobin muttered, pushing the essay to the side before pulling out another sheet of parchment. “Shall we move on to Astronomy? Anyway, you and I are going out in the snow for my birthday, and I don’t take no for an answer.”

“And when is that?” 

“Couple of weeks from now. Fifth of December.”

Kai felt his body go freezing cold as he checked his mental calendar, but he promptly let out a sigh of relief. Soobin’s birthday wasn’t anywhere near a full moon.

“It’s a date, then,” Kai said, reaching for the Astronomy homework. “Oh, another star chart. Cool.”

“That one’s just a messy sketch I made while I was looking through the telescope; we’ll definitely have to draw it from scratch and make it less pitiful, I’m afraid. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to observe the sky and sketch the whole thing at the same time? Everyone was working in pairs except for me, you know, because I chose to remain faithful to you even though I would’ve very much appreciated an extra set of hands. But it’s all right, it was worth it. The sky was so clear and beautiful. It’s hard to believe we were lucky enough to have Astronomy on a full moon night, isn’t it?”

“Huh?” Kai blurted out before he could even think, brown eyes going wide with shock, heart racing painfully fast. He gulped and took a long, deep breath to steady himself while trying not to move. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch the last bit.”

“I just said that we were lucky to have Astronomy class on a full moon, it was a very nice coincidence. Probably won’t happen again for the next few months.”

“Right. It must’ve been stunning, for sure.”

Silence lingered as Kai got busy with the star chart, carefully redrawing and labeling the celestial bodies that had been observed by Soobin. The crackling from the fireplace was soothing, yet Kai found himself incapable of relaxing, no matter how hard he tried. It was difficult not to act suspicious, especially when he had been caught so off guard. He had never anticipated the possibility of one of his friends even mentioning the full moon, which was extraordinarily foolish of him — he admitted. Most people loved the night sky, really. The moon was, more often than not, associated with all things romantic and dreamy. Of course it would come up sooner or later, wouldn’t it?

“Fascinating,” Soobin whispered to himself after a few minutes. “Very fascinating.”

Kai glanced up at his friend, who looked absolutely astounded while reading a page from One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. Kai couldn’t help a smile of endearment. 

“What? Just found out about a new plant?”

“Kai, did you know that over a thousand people in the history of wizardkind have been choked to death by a Devil’s Snare because they had absolutely no idea how to kill it?”

“Is that what’s fascinating? I’m confused.”

“Don’t you think that’s an awfully high number of dim-witted people?”

“Oh, yeah, absolutely.” Kai nodded. “It's honestly so impressive just how uneducated people can be on such basic stuff, isn’t it?”

Soobin gave him a cold stare. “Are you taking the piss?”

“Why would I be taking the piss?”

“Do you have any idea how to kill a Devil’s Snare?”

“Um… nope. Do you?”

“Kai,” Soobin said flatly, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. 

“What?”

“Do you even know what a Devil’s Snare is?”

“Well…” Kai started, feeling like he might burst out laughing at any moment beneath Soobin’s inquisitive glare. “I mean, it’s got to be a plant, right?”

“Sweet Merlin, let’s just hope you never stumble upon a Devil’s Snare in your life.”

“Fingers crossed,” Kai whispered, lifting one hand up with fingers literally crossed, and Soobin finally let out the laugh he’d been holding back.

“What are you two on about?” Taehyun’s voice called suddenly.

Both boys looked up at their housemate as he approached them, with Beomgyu by his side.

“Nothing, Soobin’s just mad at me for not knowing what a Devil’s Snare is,” Kai chuckled.

“What’s a Devil’s Snare?” Beomgyu asked.

“Dunno,” Kai replied with a shrug.

“Piss off,” Soobin hissed. “You lot might as well fail your Herbology exams for all I care.”

“Cheer up, mate, it’s quidditch Saturday!” Taehyun said joyfully, patting him on the back.

“Oh, my,” Beomgyu muttered grumpily as he sat right beside Kai. “He won’t shut up about it, will he.”

“It’ll be fun, stop whining,” Taehyun retorted.

“As if I’m going to that. It’s Hufflepuff versus Ravenclaw. Bloody Hufflepuff!” Beomgyu shouted. “What a pathetic excuse for a house!”

“You’re so mean,” Kai said teasingly.

“Show some respect, my mum was a Hufflepuff,” Soobin grumbled.

“You should’ve been there too!” Beomgyu shouted, louder still.

Soobin gave him the middle finger and stuck his tongue out, and Kai nearly rolled over with laughter. Seconds later, the other three boys were laughing just as hard.

“Guys, but seriously though, today’s game is very important,” Taehyun began, assuming his quidditch connoisseur attitude. “Hufflepuff has real chances of beating Ravenclaw, which means that ultimately Gryffindor will have to consider changing tactics. Otherwise, we will end up…”

Kai’s brain shut off mid-speech. Whatever Taehyun had to say about the upcoming match sure seemed worthy of Soobin’s full attention, but Kai just couldn’t be bothered to listen. Tilting his head to the side, he saw that Beomgyu looked beyond uninterested as well; he was staring in Taehyun’s direction, yet his eyes were focused nowhere in particular.

“So, did you find your magic door?” Kai asked casually, his voice a bit lower so as to not disturb the conversation going on between Soobin and Taehyun.

“Mm?” Beomgyu mumbled, taking a second to register that he was being spoken to. “Oh. No, not yet, unfortunately. But I did find something else a couple of days ago that I’ve been meaning to show you.”

Taken aback, Kai asked, “Show me? Why is that?”

“Because I think you might like it.”

“What is it?”

“Stop asking! It’s a surprise, isn’t it?” Beomgyu said with a giggle. “We can go there this afternoon — unless you’d rather watch Hufflepuff versus Ravenclaw, of course.”

“Damn… Tough choice… You really put me on the spot here, didn’t you?” Kai joked, and both of them chuckled. “So, is it a place?”

“I said stop asking, silly.”

Kai held his hands up in the air. “All right, then.”

Upon finishing lunch, the group of four boys split in half and went separate ways, Taehyun and Soobin headed to the quidditch field, while Kai and Beomgyu stayed indoors for a stroll around the castle. It turned out that what Beomgyu wanted to show Kai was, in fact, a place; a very distant one — as in twenty-five minutes on foot distant. 

Kai wasn’t a particularly fit person. Given his condition, long walks could be quite tiresome, especially in the first few days after a full moon. If the path was entirely flat, he could manage just fine; however, the thing about walking around Hogwarts was that, for the most part, there were stairs to climb. Loads of them. Despite his shortness of breath and his aching muscles, Kai did his best to endure the whole thing in one go, rather than ask Beomgyu to make a few stops. He didn’t want to look or sound pathetic. Besides, he’d been through worse.

“All right, this is it,” Beomgyu said as they turned left into yet another long corridor. “We’re nearly there.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to this part of the castle,” Kai observed, his eyes travelling along a sequence of archways that opened onto a breath-taking view of the Forbidden Forest. “Which floor are we on again? I kinda lost track when we were climbing up the bloody seventh staircase or so…”

“Fifth. Only third-years and up have classes on this side.”

“How do you know that?” 

“I know everything,” Beomgyu answered with a smirk as he approached a very tall, wooden door; it was locked, so he quickly pulled out his wand and unlocked it with a spell. With one hand resting on the doorknob, he glanced at Kai. “Ready for the coolest place ever?”

“I’m quite scared, honestly.”

“Don’t you say that. One would think that I’m luring you into a dungeon.”

“So posh,” Kai whispered with a smile, one that had him pressing his lips tightly together to keep it from getting wider.

Beomgyu arched one eyebrow. “Does it bother you, by any chance?”

“Not at all,” Kai retorted, mimicking Beomgyu’s thick, very upper-class accent; he found it rather pleasant, to be completely honest.

The smile that played on Beomgyu's lips was sweet. “Well, aren’t you so silly?”

“I must be, since that’s what you’re always calling me. Will you open that door or are we standing here until Christmas?”

“All right, all right,” Beomgyu said, laughing softly as he pushed the door open, stepping inside with Kai right behind him. Before their eyes was a wide yet cosy room packed with all sorts of musical instruments; from a mundane set of drums to a very exotic one of bagpipes, everything looked neat and well taken care of. On the left, numerous chairs were arranged in a half-moon shape, facing a music stand. On the right, sat an imposing, old-school golden gramophone. “Welcome to the Music classroom! This is where… Um, well, where the Music classes happen.”

“Is that so?” Kai teased him in a lighthearted tone, taking his time to admire the sight with growing excitement. It truly was music heaven — if only he could play anything. “Thanks for enlightening me, I would’ve never figured this out by m—”

“Shut up,” Beomgyu demanded playfully.

“I actually had no idea there was a Music subject at Hogwarts, though,” Kai said, taking a few shy steps inside the room. “This place is incredible. How did you find it?”

“Taehyun and I do plenty of strolling around the castle, don’t we? I knew you’d like it,” Beomgyu said in his smug, posh tone before grabbing Kai by the wrist. “Look, there’s even a graphomone over there!”

“Do you mean a — nevermind,” Kai muttered, allowing himself to be dragged across the room towards the big old record player, placed next to a tall shelf. 

“Look, there are so many records,” Beomgyu said, fascination shimmering in his eyes, as he slowly approached the shelves filled with vinyls. He brushed his fingertips along the records’ edges, pulling out a few in order to take a closer look. “Nothing much familiar to me, though, but I suppose you might know some of these…”

Kai walked over to him.

“Not many, actually…” he said, thoroughly searching for anything remotely similar to what he was used to, but most of the records were classical. Not that he found classical music bad, but it wasn't the most suitable genre to vibe to while hanging out with a friend — or at least he thought so. “Oh, hey, they’ve got the Beatles!” Kai exclaimed as soon as he spotted a very familiar album cover, immediately pulling it from the shelf. “This is their first album, if I’m not wrong. Do you wanna give it a listen?”

“Yeah, sure.” Beomgyu nodded excitedly, leaning in closer to examine the picture on the cover. “Which one of these is Lennon, by the way?”

“Him,” said Kai, pointing at the man on the right.

Beomgyu scrunched his nose with disgust and disappointment; it was a funny face, one that Kai was witnessing for the first time. 

“Oh, well. I could say he’s the ugliest person I’ve ever seen, but I’d be lying — the other three are even worse! Bloody hell.”

Kai let out a very honest laugh, and Beomgyu promptly joined him.

“You’re entitled to your opinion, but under no circumstances say that around my mum. She would probably dump my dad for John Lennon if he ever came back from the dead.”

“Blimey. Is he dead?”

“Oh, yes, he died many years ago. Got shot in the head by a nutter.” Kai waved it off. “Poor Mum, never got to see them live, did she.”

“Shot?”

“Hit with a muggle weapon.”

“Oh. That’s awful. Your mum must’ve been so sad when it happened.”

“She was probably devastated at the time. I don’t remember a thing, though, it really was ages ago.” 

“What about David Bowie?”

“Don’t worry. He’s still alive, as far as I know.”

“Thank Merlin,” Beomgyu chuckled, gently pulling the Beatles’ album from Kai’s hands. “May I?”

“By all means,” said Kai, indicating the record player with an overly formal hand gesture.

“Now who’s posh?”

Kai giggled at Beomgyu’s teasing while the boy thoroughly placed the vinyl onto the turntable; he looked rather hesitant as he pulled down the needle, but pulled it off just fine in the end. The first notes of “I Saw Her Standing There” then filled the room, and the boys made themselves at home amongst a few cushions by the fireplace. They barely spoke through the album, except for a few quick comments here and there, all initiated by Beomgyu; he had his eyes closed most of the time, so Kai couldn’t quite tell whether he was awake.

Fourteen tracks later, they were both lying on the carpet, side by side, heads propped on a particularly large cushion. The sudden silence prompted Beomgyu to open his eyes and Kai to sit upright, with his legs crossed. 

“Thoughts?” asked Kai, glancing down at his friend. 

“I’ve got to be honest,” Beomgyu said, his lips twitching to the side as they usually did whenever he searched for words. 

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” he began, reaching for the album cover and staring at it for a moment. “Sounds nice and all. But I strongly prefer Lennon’s song over any of these. I mean, all they sing about is romance, and it gets boring after a while. Don’t know about you, but I, for one, think the lyrics feel a bit… flat. They don’t make me curious or intrigued, do you know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I totally get it. Not picking favourites this time, then?”

Beomgyu flipped the cover, dragging a finger slowly down the tracklist on the back.

“I think ‘Twist And Shout’ is the most fun by miles.”

“Classic.”

“Overall… Like I said, it’s not bad. I just wouldn’t mind not listening to it ever again.”

“Quite the picky listener, aren’t you?” Kai teased, earning a rather shy laugh from Beomgyu. “But, yeah, I’m with you on this one. Their albums get better with time, though, this is just the beginning. I’ve got a pretty good idea which ones you’ll like the most.”

“Really?” Grey eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “Which ones?”

Kai shook his head. “Not telling you that right now, am I?”

“Wait, why not?” 

“I don’t want to bias your opinion, so I’ll tell you after we’ve listened.”

“Fair enough.” 

“Come on, let’s put this away and look for something else,” Kai said, rising to his feet.

“You do that, I wouldn’t know what to even look for,” Beomgyu chuckled, standing up as well. While Kai headed towards the gramophone, Beomgyu walked over to the grand piano in the centre of the room. “I’ll ask my muggle friend to lend me some records, you know, when I’m back home for Christmas,” Beomgyu said in a low, lazy voice, fingers drifting slowly along the varnished wood. “And ask him to show me some other songs by Bowie, perhaps. I’m not sure he’ll remember me, though…”

“Bollocks,” Kai scoffed, putting Please Please Me back on the shelf. “Of course he will.”

Beomgyu sat at the piano and lifted the fallboard, uncovering the black and white keys; softly, he pressed one key, and then another, and then another, as though he was searching for the right notes. It sounded a bit random at first, however, he very quickly merged the notes into chords and the whole thing came together. 

“I can’t believe you play the piano,” said Kai, baffled, dashing towards Beomgyu. “How come you never told me?”

The boy shrugged, his face blank. “Didn’t think it was relevant. Anyway, it’s just one more thing I was forced to learn as a kid.”

Kai realised, as the song progressed, that it was the melody to “Starman”. He was rendered speechless once again.

“Where did you learn this?”

“Nowhere. I can play by ear.”

“That’s… really impressive,” Kai murmured, leaning against the piano to watch him playing. It was a very simplified rendition, of course, but that didn’t stop Kai from being in complete awe. “Like, really.”

“It’s like French.” Beomgyu gave another apathetic shrug. “I’m okay at it, doesn’t mean I enjoy it.”

“You don’t like playing?”

“Not really,” he replied, halting the song abruptly just as he was about to move into the chorus. He lifted his eyes from the keyboard and looked at Kai, who was staring at him with one eyebrow raised. “What?”

“Just wondering… Out of all the things you can do, is there at least one you like?”

“No,” Beomgyu replied without a moment’s hesitation.  

“All right. So you don’t like playing the piano, you don’t like speaking French, and you most certainly do not like quidditch…”

Beomgyu snorted. “What are you trying to get at?”

“What do you actually like doing?”

There was an awkward pause, during which Beomgyu seemed to deliberate on what to say. 

“I don’t know,” he replied flatly, giving yet another shrug. 

“Oh, come on,” Kai insisted. “There’s gotta be something.”

“All right, all right, let’s see…” Beomgyu twitched his lips. “I like… hanging out with Taehyun, I suppose, exploring the castle and all. I like pissing off my brother, and… I like… Oh, I think I really enjoy upsetting my mother. And Kreacher too!”

Puzzled, Kai narrowed his eyes. “Who’s Kreacher?”

“My family’s house-elf.”

“What’s a house-elf?” Kai asked, feeling a bit stupid all of a sudden.

“You don’t know?” Beomgyu’s slightly judgemental tone reminded Kai, once again, that he truly didn’t know the first thing about the magical world. “Well, house-elves are… well, creatures that serve wizarding families. Their main job is to do house chores, basically, but they will follow just about any order given by their masters.”

“I see…” Kai muttered as he glanced down at the keyboard, voice trailing off. 

“What’s with that face?”

“Nothing. It’s just that none of the things you mentioned sound like actual interests.”

“Does muggle music count as an interest even if I don’t know much about it?

“Yeah, I suppose it does.”

“There you go,” Beomgyu said with a tender smile. “What do you like?”

Kai shrugged. “Well, I like reading; but you already know that, so… I like horror films, crosswords, video games… I mean, I know this isn’t nearly as cool as playing an instrument or speaking another language, but still…”

“Except for the crosswords, I have absolutely no clue what any of that means,” Beomgyu chuckled.

“Right, you guys have no crime books or telly.”

“Kai, you're such a Muggle,” Beomgyu teased, barely holding back a grin.

“And yet you’re here with me rather than out there watching a very wizard quidditch match with your very wizard friends,” Kai teased back.  

“Cheeky.” Beomgyu clicked his tongue twice, his smile faltering. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, for the record.”

“Didn’t you?”

“Not at all. Quite the opposite, actually. I feel like there are so many nice things you can show me.”

“I don’t think you’d like the things I like, though.”

“Why not?” 

“Because they won’t make sense to you. I’ll show you a film where someone is in danger and you’ll be like, ‘Why don’t they just disapparate?’ My dad does that all the damn time,” Kai explained in an amused yet somewhat annoyed tone.

“Kai.” Beomgyu snorted, pressing his lips tightly together before saying, “I am so incredibly sorry to tell you this, but I don’t know what a film is…”

After a moment’s pause, the two boys ended up laughing. 

“Right. It’s like…” Kai frowned, trying to come up with a decent enough explanation for someone that clueless. “You know when you read a book and you can picture the story really clearly in your head? Like when you read the History book, for instance. A film is like watching your own thoughts outside your head, except it’s somebody else’s thoughts instead, so you can’t control what happens—”

“What?” Beomgyu blurted, completely gobsmacked. 

“Bloody hell,” Kai giggled nervously, taking a deep breath to prevent his brain from short-circuiting, while Beomgyu just shamelessly laughed at him. “All right… Think of it as a moving portrait, yeah? But instead of showing people just standing there, it tells a whole story from beginning to end. It doesn’t interact with you, and usually lasts about an hour and a half.”

Beomgyu’s eyes widened further. “Sounds bloody insane.”

“I suppose,” Kai breathed out, silently hoping he wouldn’t have to explain an entirely muggle concept to a pure-blood wizard ever again. 

“And how does one see a film?” Beomgyu asked, sounding genuinely interested.

“That’s… a whole different conversation, innit.”

There was no way in hell Kai would try and describe what a television was, given how unsuccessful his previous attempt had been.

Beomgyu smiled sweetly. “One that you don’t want to have, apparently.”

“It’s not that. I mean, it kind of is. It’s just that I wouldn’t know how to explain it, would I, so I’d rather just show you. Can’t imagine there’s a telly lying around somewhere in the castle, though.”

“Whatever that is, there’s a good chance we might find it in the Muggle Studies classroom. It’s on the first floor near the hospital wing, if my memory serves me right.”

“Muggle Studies? You’ve got to be joking.”

“Well, I’m not. Do you wanna go check it out now?”

“Um, not really. Bit tired of walking, actually. But we can go there next time we hang out, if that’s okay with you.”

“Sure.”

“Brilliant. I’m gonna go find something else for us to listen to, yeah?”

Beomgyu nodded and Kai promptly rushed back towards the vinyl shelves. He picked another Beatles album, this time their second one, and put the record onto the gramophone. The boys listened to all of it, made their own remarks, and Beomgyu stood his ground — still too much romance for his liking.

After the record was over, Beomgyu taught Kai — or tried to, at least — how to play a silly wizard song from his childhood on the piano, but it all went from bad to worse, so they decided to call it day and head back to the Gryffindor common room. Taehyun and Soobin had been there for quite some time when they arrived, both looking rather displeased; it turned out that Hufflepuff had crushed Ravenclaw on the pitch, as their seeker had caught the snitch only thirty minutes in.

The rest of the month went by in a flash. December came with all its might, bringing colder winds, lots of rain and heavy snowfalls. On Soobin’s birthday, the four boys woke up to the other-worldly view of snowflakes gently falling outside, painting the school grounds white. As Kai had promised him, they went out in the snow — even though the colder the weather, the stronger his pain — and Beomgyu and Taehyun tagged along.

They had snowball fights, made snow angels and hung out for hours on end. After returning to the castle, they hid beneath Taehyun’s invisibility cloak and sneaked into the kitchens together for the very first time, where they had a couple of house-elves prepare a birthday cake for Soobin. It was also the first time Kai saw an elf; there were literally hundreds of them, working restlessly, dashing from one stove to another and handling piles of cooking pots. That was the moment he realised that the food at Hogwarts wasn’t just magically conjured into existence. 

As the month progressed, the full moon inevitably creeped closer. The skies grew heavier and darker as winter announced its arrival, and so did Kai’s thoughts. It was a never-ending cycle that became worse as his friendships grew stronger, shoving down his throat the belief that he couldn’t afford to have friends. Just like that, he felt the regret and the guilt for the happy times he’d spent by their side weighing on his shoulders. He promised himself, yet again, that he would put a stop to all of it as soon as the moon waned. This time, hopefully, he would find the strength to keep it. 

“You’re going home tomorrow?” Soobin asked, sadness written all over his face, as Kai packed his things; it was evening, and the group of boys had just returned from dinner to the dormitory. 

“Tonight,” Kai replied, trying not to think too much about the fact that there were three pairs of curious eyes staring at him simultaneously. He had decided to go to the hospital wing the night before his usual morning getaway, so as not to risk being seen looking too ill, as Beomgyu had seen last time.

“But… Christmas is already next week,” Soobin said in a weak voice.

“Really?” Kai asked, pulling a puzzled face as if he didn’t have an annual calendar engraved in his brain. 

“Yeah, we’re spending two whole weeks at home. Can’t you just wait until then?” 

“Dad said he’d pick me up tonight, so…”

“Is this an early ‘Happy Christmas’, then?” Taehyun asked, pulling on his pyjamas. 

“Oh, no, I’ll be back in time for the exams. Can’t miss them, can I? It’ll be just for the weekend, actually,” Kai replied casually before turning to Soobin, who didn’t seem happy in the slightest. “Cheer up, yeah? I’ll be back before you can say ‘Bubotuber’.”

“Been studying, have you?” Soobin teased. 

“You should see how sulky Soobin gets when you’re not around,” mocked Taehyun.

Less than a second later, Soobin’s pillow flew straight at his face. 

“It’s actually hilarious,” Beomgyu added with a smirk.

“What am I to you, a joke? No, don’t you dare answer,” Soobin snapped, pointing his index finger at Beomgyu and then at Taehyun. “And I don’t get sulky.”

“You do,” Taehyun and Beomgyu said in unison.

“What about you two, huh?” Soobin huffed. “Sniffing each other’s arses all day.”

“Mate, I wish Beomgyu was gone for three days.” 

“Yeah, that’s bloody likely.” One more pillow was thrown at Taehyun, this time by a half-offended, half-amused Beomgyu. “I don’t know how you're going to manage those two weeks without me, you idiot, I’m telling you.”

“Bet he’ll be the one crying in bed,” Taehyun muttered, pointing his thumb at Beomgyu.

“Piss off,” Beomgyu scoffed as the other three boys laughed, then turned to Soobin just to tease him a bit further: “Anyway, is it really that hard to admit that you miss your best friend?”

Best friend.

The words echoed uncomfortably inside Kai’s head, making him feel as if he were about to be sick. 

“I’m not not admitting it!” Soobin cried. “But ‘sulky’ is a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?”

“How about we all shut up?” Kai suggested; his voice was soft, but they all knew he meant it.

The room fell quiet for a while, and Kai appreciated being able to finish packing in silence — his thoughts were loud enough already. Soon, Soobin and Taehyun got chatting about something completely unrelated to the former topic. Kai glanced at Beomgyu’s bed instinctively, wondering why he wasn’t taking part in the conversation, only to find that his friend had been staring.

“Are you all right?” Beomgyu mouthed.

“I’m fine,” Kai assured him, but the boy looked like he wasn’t having any of it. “What?”

“Promise?”

“Don’t you worry too much about me,” Kai said nonchalantly, flashing a fake smile at Beomgyu as he threw his bag over one shoulder. Then, raising his voice so everyone could hear him, he said, “Cheerio. See y’all soon.”

Chapter Text

✨

Upon getting off the train, Beomgyu didn’t dare wave his friends goodbye; he didn’t so much as look in their direction. Instead, his ever cold grey eyes wandered along the vast platform packed with parents, who shouted and waved their hands with anticipation, eager to finally reunite with their children after four long months of separation. Beomgyu hadn't expected to find his own amongst the crowd, of course; he wasn’t that dim-witted. His parents would never mingle with such people, nor engage in such plebeian behaviour. But he knew he was being observed. He could feel it.

Then, almost as if magnetically drawn, Beomgyu’s gaze shifted to the left. He spotted his father's equally cold eyes piercing him from a distance; the man just stood there, his stance so arrogant that it seemed as though he owned the place. Beomgyu knew that his father wouldn’t move an inch, so he promptly made his way over, feeling the man’s unsettling glare upon him all the while. Mother was nowhere to be seen.

“Hello, Father,” Beomgyu greeted politely.

Not a word came out of the man’s mouth. He just nodded. Beomgyu took his silence as the worst-case scenario; it meant that Mother was going to deal with him, which was far more terrifying.

Father and son left the train station side by side, not exchanging so much as a glance, and apparated to Grimmauld Place. Upon stepping inside the house, Beomgyu heard footsteps desperately racing down the stairs and towards the entrance hall; all at once, his younger brother crashed into him in a full-on hug, nearly knocking both of them down.

“Let me breathe, you bloody idiot,” Beomgyu protested, his laughter half-muffled, but Seonggyu wouldn’t let go; instead, he laughed and put even more energy into the hug, causing them to almost fall over once again. “Let go of me!”

“Beom, you’ve grown taller!” Seonggyu said cheerfully as he finally pulled away.

“Well, what did you expect? I’m twelve now,” Beomgyu muttered in a childishly grumpy tone, the joy of reuniting with Seonggyu slipping from his face as soon as he remembered that he hadn’t got a single birthday letter from him.

Getting no letters from his parents over the past four months wasn’t all surprising; if anything, it was expected. The second he was sorted into Gryffindor, Beomgyu knew he was bound to get the silent treatment. But from his own brother? Outraging. Seonggyu had sent him one letter, and that was it; one that Beomgyu had taken way longer to reply to than would have been considered acceptable, truth be told, but still — had Seonggyu been so mad at him that he decided to not wish him a happy birthday at all? 

Not that Beomgyu cared that much about his birthday, however, Seonggyu’s silence had put him in such a foul mood that he hadn’t even considered celebrating with his friends. Not even Taehyun knew he’d turned twelve on the 3rd of November.

Upon picking up on Beomgyu’s disappointment, Seonggyu tried to say, “Beom, I’m so sorry—”

But his words got cut off by Mother’s very strong, distinctive voice.

“I see you have arrived,” she said coldly, standing at the end of the dimly-lit hallway. Both boys turned to face her as she began walking slowly towards them, the train of her fancy black robes trailing over the carpet. 

She wasn’t particularly tall or broad, yet there was something so menacing about her presence that she could subdue anyone in the room with her gaze alone.

“Hello, Mother,” Beomgyu said, the words scratching his throat uncomfortably. 

“Up to your bedroom. Dinner is at seven,” she said, not sparing him another glance, then spoke to Seonggyu, “Not a word to your brother until then.”

Without fully understanding why, Beomgyu instinctively sought his father’s eyes, but the man merely turned away and quietly left for the living room, where he poured himself a glass of cognac and lit a cigar. Beomgyu had no choice but to make his way upstairs, trying not to let the sad look on Seonggyu’s face weigh on him.

The quick walk from the entrance hall to his bedroom was all it took for Beomgyu to start missing school. The Choi family household had an eerie, sombre atmosphere; dim lights, dark furniture, silver adornments, and severed heads of former house-elves mounted on the walls. There and then, he realised just how sincerely he loved all the red and gold, despite having thought, at first, that the colour combination was awfully tacky.

Rather hesitantly, Beomgyu entered his bedroom. He had taken a good guess at what it might feel like to return to the room that had been his safe haven for nearly twelve years; as it turned out, he had guessed right. The sense of familiarity was no longer there. Those four walls were now but an empty shell, inhabited by a very wealthy boy with no personality at all.

The room was fancy, albeit soulless; it told nothing about its owner, and yet, somehow, it told everything.

Beomgyu crawled into bed and stared at the ceiling for hours on end. He didn’t bother unpacking, since Kreacher had already seen to it, apparently. Perhaps he was just bored out of his mind, but his heart did sink a little with how much he missed Hogwarts; but more than anything, he missed the people Hogwarts had given him. He missed Taehyun, the friend he instantly hit it off with and couldn’t go a day without; he missed Kai, the mysterious boy with a cool scar who made him feel oddly safe; he even missed Soobin and his stupid, grumpy retorts. What was even the point of having a room if he couldn’t share it with the three of them?

On the dot of seven, Kreached popped into Beomgyu’s bedroom to not-so-gently remind him of dinner, and the only reason Beomgyu even bothered to head downstairs was that his last meal had been on the train, so he was thoroughly starving.

Meals at the Choi family’s household were always lavish, each one meticulously crafted to parade their wealth. This time, the otherwise plain solid wood table was dressed in an embroidered white linen tablecloth, and laid out across it with millimetric precision were plates of the finest china, goblin-wrought silver cutlery and crystal glasses etched with floral motifs.

Beomgyu sat at the table, hoping — perhaps rather foolishly — to be surprised with food he actually liked, only to find that the main course was the one thing he hated most: salmon — or any fish, for that matter. Still, given how hungry he was, he couldn’t exactly afford to be picky. He nibbled on a few pieces of toast to take the edge off his hunger, so then he wouldn’t have to eat more salmon than he was physically capable of.

As they were well into dinner, Mrs Choi cleared her throat, drawing everyone’s eyes to herself.

“Shall we have a word, my darling?” she demanded, staring straight into Beomgyu’s soul.

“Yes, Mother?” he replied as casually as possible, although he could feel his blood starting to boil beneath his skin; he hated it when she called him sweet names, for he knew very well that his mother didn’t have a single loving bone in her body.

“It has come to my attention that not only did you break a family tradition upheld for centuries — which, believe it or not, I might have been willing to overlook — but you have also been associating yourself, and thus our family, with blood traitors and half-breeds,” she stated just as casually. “Have you anything to say for yourself?”

“Have I? Who told you that?” Beomgyu scoffed. “My charming cousin, I presume?”

“I ask the questions in this house, you insolent boy, not you,” she snapped, her voice suddenly razor-sharp. “I shall repeat myself only once: have you anything to say?”

Beomgyu took a deep breath, poking the salmon on his plate with the tip of the knife. “Whatever she said, it isn’t true,” he muttered.

“I am perfectly aware of who your repugnant little friends are.”

“My friends are all right,” he spat, the words coming out rather more aggressively than he had intended. 

“Your friends are filth!” she shouted, smacking the table so harshly that the china plates and the silver cutlery quaked. Seonggyu, who had been eating quietly, nearly jumped out of his seat. “They’re scum, that’s what they are! What is the matter with you? Have you learnt nothing from what your parents taught you? You look at me when I’m speaking to you!”

Beomgyu remained silent, but he did lift his eyes to meet his mother’s.

“I will not tolerate this behaviour,” Mrs Choi hissed, pointing a finger at her son. “You are my firstborn, and you will conduct yourself accordingly. You bear this family’s legacy on your shoulders, and I will not have you publicly drag it through the mud. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes, Mother,” Beomgyu replied, his submissive tone dripping with mockery. “You’re saying I should be friends with them in secret. Got it.”

“Mind your tongue.” She clenched her jaw, holding a glass of wine so tightly that Beomgyu thought she might break it. “You shall not write to them, you shall not speak to them, you shall not so much as acknowledge their existence. Beomgyu, I forbid it. Do not test me.”

Beomgyu gulped audibly, getting uneasy all of a sudden. “May I be excused?” he asked, feeling as if he were about to be sick.

“No, you may not,” Mrs Choi said flatly. “Finish your meal.”

“But I’m not hungry anymore,” he insisted, naively hoping that his mother would hear his plea and show him mercy. 

“You may leave the table once you have finished eating,” she stated, her tone final.

Beomgyu took another deep breath and went over his options: he could abide by his mother’s rules and stay to finish his meal despite feeling unwell, or he could simply get up and leave for his bedroom. Ultimately, the worst that could happen was that he would be starving later, and there would be no way he could sneak downstairs for a late-night snack — Mrs Choi would have probably forbidden Kreacher to feed him, anyway.

In the end, his imminent hunger outweighed any desire to defy his mother. He then swallowed his pride as well as his food. Both tasted sour.

The Choi family finished their dinner in silence, and Beomgyu dashed to his room as soon as he was finally excused from the table. Meals with the family had always been a bit distasteful; all his father ever did was drink spirits, smoke cigars and go on about his little rendezvous at Hog’s Head with his brother-in-law, while his mother would make spiteful comments about just anything under the sun. 

Locked up in his bedroom, Beomgyu indulged in his go-to activity whenever he was at home: staring at the ceiling. There was nothing else to do, really. It was snowing heavily outside, so going for a stroll seemed an awful idea; and now, with sweet Mother being ever so vigilant…

It was long past bedtime when Seonggyu came knocking on Beomgyu’s door; three gentle knocks, their secret code, woke Beomgyu from his slumber — he had dozed off out of boredom. 

“Beom, can I come in?” Seonggyu whispered, pushing the door open just enough for his head to peek through the gap.

“Mm,” Beomgyu grumbled.

As usual, his brother crawled into his bed and made himself comfortable under the thick blankets.

“You’re mad at me for not writing, aren’t you?” Seonggyu asked, his face intentionally half-hidden behind the fabric.

Beomgyu yawned and lazily rolled onto his side in order to face his brother.

“Not anymore. I know it wasn’t your fault. Chill.”

“I really wanted to, Beom, but Mother wouldn’t let me.”

“Not even on my birthday?”

“Especially not on your birthday…”

Beomgyu frowned. “Why, though?” 

“I think they just wanted to punish you,” Seonggyu said hesitantly. “They’re both very disappointed, you know.”

“All that over a stupid house sorting?” Beomgyu rolled his eyes. “They’re full of crap.”

“You know it’s not just that. Cousin told them everything.”

“Well, that stupid cow had better stick to licking her boyfriend’s greasy blond hair and keep her nosy arse out of my damn business,” Beomgyu spat impatiently.

“That’s mean,” Seonggyu murmured under his breath; a few seconds of silence followed before he gathered the courage to speak again. “Is it true, though? Have you really been running around with blood traitors and half-breeds?”

“We all share the same room, what did you expect?”

“You could’ve kept to yourself, or at least tried to make some friends in Slytherin.”

Beomgyu snorted. “Bloody awful, Slytherins,” he muttered. 

“People will start calling you a blood traitor, Beom, and you don’t want that to happen, do you?” Seonggyu asked apprehensively, clutching onto the edges of the blanket. Beomgyu simply sighed and rolled to the other side. “Aren’t you gonna say anything?”

“I don’t feel like talking about this, to be honest.”

“Okay…” Seonggyu murmured, exhaling heavily. “Wanna tell me about Hogwarts, then? What’s it like?”

“Fantastic. Can’t wait to go back.”

“Is that the best you can come up with?” Seonggyu shook his brother’s shoulder and climbed onto him, shouting right into his ear, “Come on, Beom, you’ve got to tell me all about it! I’ve been dying to know! What’s your favourite class? And your favourite teacher? Can you do advanced spells already?”

Beomgyu let out an exhausted sigh.

“I like Defence Against the Dark Arts the most,” he said, defeated. “But I think I’ve got a bit of a soft spot for Transfiguration. My favourite teacher’s Mr Binns, the History teacher, ‘cause I get to sleep in class; he’s a ghost so he doesn’t give a shit.”

“Blimey, you have a ghost teacher? Wicked!”

“Yeah, yeah. The castle’s full of them.”

“Nice. What else?”

“Mm… The food is absolutely insane. Best roast dinner I’ve ever had, hands down. The desserts are all amazing, and there’s pretty much everything you can imagine. Ice cream, cheesecake, pudding, you name it.”

“Sounds fantastic.”

“I love strolling round the grounds, round the castle… It’s beautiful.” Beomgyu smiled to himself, his mind wandering to the countless moments he had spent exploring Hogwarts alongside Taehyun. “I’ve got the entire school mapped out in my head — all right, maybe not the entire school, but I’ll get there one day.”

“What’s your favourite place?” 

Tricky question. 

Beomgyu twitched his lips, feeling a bit uncertain. “Do you really want to know?”

“Well, I’m asking, aren’t I?”

“The Gryffindor common room.”

“Oh,” Seonggyu muttered, pulling away from his brother. “What’s so special about it?”

Beomgyu shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s just comfortable. Nice fireplace, big armchairs, plenty of cushions lying around…”

“I always thought we’d stay together, you know,” Seonggyu breathed out, sounding so hopeless that Beomgyu forced himself to turn back around to face him.

“You haven’t even been sorted yet, you could still make Gryffindor,” he said nonchalantly, although he knew very well that that was not at all what his brother meant. 

“That’s likely,” Seonggyu huffed. 

“Come on, just think about it! My friends would totally like you,” Beomgyu lied with the straightest face; if anything, Taehyun, Kai and Soobin would absolutely despise Seonggyu, should he keep parroting their family’s pure-blood beliefs. “You’d be like the fifth member of our little gang.”

“And hang out with blood traitors and worse? Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Will you stop saying that? You don’t even know them.”

“I don’t need to.”

“But you will, and then you’ll see that they’re actually nice. Well… Maybe Soobin won’t be that nice to you, but it’ll be just for the laughs really—”

“Soobin?” Seonggyu asked abruptly, jealous and disdainful. “And who even is that?”

“One of my mates, isn’t that obvious?” Beomgyu snapped, feeling his patience begin to run out as their conversation escalated. “And to think I was actually excited to tell you all about them. I should’ve known.”

“Go on, tell me. Is he your new best mate or what?” 

“If you weren’t so determined to insult them, you would’ve known that my best mate’s actually Taehyun, and that both he and Soobin are, in fact, pure-bloods!”

“There’s one left, though; is he the half-breed?”

“Get out,” Beomgyu spat coldly, jumping to his feet and forcefully pulling his brother off the bed.

“Beom, what are you doing?” Seonggyu protested.

“I’m not kidding, I need you to get the hell out,” he said, dragging Seonggyu all the way to the door by the collar of his pyjamas.

“Beom—”

“Out!” Beomgyu shouted one last time before pushing his brother into the hallway and slamming the door shut.

The next morning, Beomgyu slept in — he had felt so distressed after his argument with Seonggyu that falling asleep ended up taking far longer than usual — and inevitably missed breakfast, despite Kreacher’s attempts at waking him. He couldn’t have cared any less about breakfast, though. This time, Beomgyu would rather starve than endure a whole meal with his family first thing after waking up. He would already have to sit through Christmas dinner in the evening anyway, so he might as well treat himself to a peaceful morning. 

Sat on the windowsill, with his head leant against the cold glass, Beomgyu dreamily gazed at the backyard, which was entirely covered by a thick, white blanket of snow from the overnight storm. If only he could write to Taehyun; if only he could speak to him, somehow… Or to someone. Anyone — well, anyone who didn’t happen to live under the same roof as him, at least. His thoughts then shifted to the elderly man from the record shop, the one who had first sparked Beomgyu’s interest in music, and the one he had been longing to visit again. But it seemed highly unlikely that Mother would allow him to even set foot outside.

Suddenly, Beomgyu heard this strange voice in the back of his head, one that sounded a bit too much like Taehyun’s, inciting him to sneak out of the house for a couple of hours. “It can’t hurt,” the voice whispered. Beomgyu contemplated the idea for a moment, leaning far over the windowsill so as to assess how high up he actually was; his room was on the first floor, there was absolutely no way he could jump without breaking a limb — was there? Perhaps, just perhaps, the thick layer of snow might cushion the fall… Well, he ought to try, otherwise he would never know, would he? All in all, a quick trip to St Mungo’s for a sprained ankle sounded drastically more fun than staying locked inside, anyway.

Quickly, Beomgyu freshened up, dressed in layers to keep himself warm, and ran over to the windowsill just to stare at the ground below for a bit longer. As soon as his determination began to falter, he closed his eyes tightly and jumped without a second’s hesitation. The impact on his knees was certainly harsh, but the snow had done such an outstanding job of breaking his fall that, when he opened his eyes, he found that he had landed perfectly; not only had the snow prevented any injury, but it had also muffled the sound of his feet hitting the ground, allowing him to escape 12 Grimmauld Place unnoticed.

Leaving the house felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted off Beomgyu’s shoulders; as if he was free not only from the physical walls of his room, but from the traps of his own state of mind while he was in there. As he slowly made his way to the record shop, Beomgyu saw a few muggle children from the neighbourhood hanging out in the street, having snowball fights and building snowmen. He couldn’t help but smile at the fond memory of Soobin’s birthday, when he and his friends had spent the day together out in the snow; they paired up for a snowball fight, and needless to say, Beomgyu and Taehyun absolutely crushed the other two. Kai wasn’t a particularly strong boy, and Soobin had concerningly poor aim.

Once he reached the street where the shop was located, which was pulsing with life the last time he’d seen it, Beomgyu found that there were barely any people around. Most of the shops nearby were closed, even the charming little café on the corner. Beomgyu walked further down the road, feeling somewhat disheartened, only to find that the record shop was closed as well — a huge red sign that read “Closed” hung on the glass door and the lights were all off. Well, what did he expect? It was Christmas Eve, after all, and there was snow everywhere. Beomgyu cursed himself for his ignorance before turning on his heel to head back home, defeated. 

No more than ten seconds later, however, bell chimes echoed softly behind him, and a very familiar voice called out:

“Well, well, well! If it isn’t Starboy in all his glory!”

As if he couldn’t believe his ears, Beomgyu turned to face the man with a wide grin of astonishment on his face. 

“Hello there, sir!” he shouted, waving his hand frantically.

“Come inside, will ya?” the man invited, holding the door open. “It’s too cold for you out here.”

Without thinking twice, Beomgyu darted into the shop; it was, indeed, too cold outside — the tip of his nose had already gone numb.

“Good morning, sir,” he greeted, patting his boots on the entrance mat to shake off the snow. “Have you forgotten my name, by any chance?”

“Of course I haven't, son,” the man replied, leading Beomgyu through the darkness of the shop. “You really did mean Happy Christmas, eh? I had a feeling you'd pop in.”

“I left for school. Came back to spend the holidays at home.”

“I see! A boarding school, then,” the man assumed, to which Beomgyu nodded; he had no clue what a boarding school was. “I attended one of those when I was around your age. Good times! Rough? Oh, yes, absolutely — but good, indeed. What can I do for you today, young man? Have you eaten? I’ve just baked a cracking apple pie.”

“Just wanted to hang out a bit,” Beomgyu said, trailing behind the man into a dimly lit hallway at the back of the shop, which led to a worn-out wooden staircase. “And, um, no… I haven’t eaten yet — sir, where are we going?”

“Oh, I live right upstairs. I’d just put the pie on the windowsill to cool when I saw you coming round the corner, can you believe it? What a lovely coincidence! A minute earlier or later and I would’ve missed you altogether.”

“I didn't catch your name last time.”

“You can call me Jimmy.”

“Jimmy? Is that your actual name?”

“Oh, no, no, just a nickname. Name’s James, but no one really calls me that,” the man replied casually as he opened the door to his flat, holding it open for the boy. “Make yourself at home, son.”

Then he showed Beomgyu to the dining table and motioned for him to sit at the head.

“Do you take cinnamon on your pie, son?” Mr Jimmy asked kindly. “Given how freezing it is outside, it must’ve cooled already.”

Beomgyu smiled softly and nodded, trying not to let on how ravenous he was; he felt as though his stomach had turned into a supermassive black hole. While Mr Jimmy moved the apple pie from the windowsill to the kitchen worktop, Beomgyu took the opportunity to glance around. The flat was quite small and modest, and didn’t look all that different from the shop; there were more shelves filled with records than there was proper furniture, and the walls were entirely covered in posters of probably every band on Earth. A rather unusual, square-shaped object sat in a corner, across from a big armchair. The kitchen and the dining room were a single thing, separated only by a high counter with no apparent purpose, while the living room was virtually nonexistent. Towards the left was a narrow corridor, but the doors it most likely led to couldn’t be seen from where Beomgyu was sitting. 

“Mr Jimmy, do you like the Beatles?” he asked all of a sudden; it was the first thing that popped into his head.

“The Beatles?” the man said joyfully, casting a quick look at Beomgyu over his shoulder. “Well, of course, son! Who doesn’t like the Beatles? I’ve been to many of their concerts. Proud victim of Beatlemania, me.”

“Beatlemania?” 

“Ah, what a time! People were proper mad about them back in the day,” Mr Jimmy went on, serving a few slices of apple pie onto two small plates. “Screaming, passing out, chasing their car down the street… Mental, if you ask me.”

He walked over to the table and laid the plates down, along with the cutlery and a pair of empty glasses, before taking a seat. Beomgyu glanced down at the generous slice of pie on the plate in front of him and his mouth watered instantly. The smell alone was out of this world, but it looked absolutely tempting too; the crust had an appealing golden-brown shade to it, and steam was still rising from the hot filling, swirling and fading into the cold air. 

“I don’t think I like them that much, sir,” Beomgyu admitted, bringing a small piece of pie close to his lips and gently blowing on it so as to cool it down a bit more. “I made a friend at school, he showed me quite a few of their songs… Their first two albums, if I’m not wrong. But I guess they just didn’t… speak to me. Do you know what I mean?”

Beomgyu then finally brought the pie into his mouth and chewed slowly; it really did taste every bit as wonderful as it looked.

“That’s certainly not something I hear every day, is it?” Mr Jimmy commented, sounding gobsmacked, though not exactly upset. “How’s the pie?”

“Fantastic, sir. Best I’ve ever had.” Beomgyu gave him a thumbs up. “And it’s not that they’re bad, the Beatles. Just not my taste. My friend said that I’d like their later albums better, though.”

“You know, there’s a good chance your friend might be right. I’ve got their entire discography right over there.” He pointed to a shelf across the room. “Now, since you seem to be into the more spacey, complex stuff, such as “Starman”, I reckon you’ll love their—”

“No, sir, wait!” Beomgyu cut him off, waving both hands frantically as a nervous giggle slipped out. “You can’t tell me just yet, I’m supposed to listen to them with my friend first.”

“All right, all right!” Mr Jimmy laughed along, raising his hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll think of something else for you, then. No Beatles! Oh, my, how rude of me — I nearly forgot! Anything to go with that pie, son? I’ve got milk, and maybe still a bit of orange juice. Let me go get some for you—”

“No, sir, sit down,” Beomgyu said as the man made to get up. “I’m all good, thank you. I don’t usually drink while I eat, it makes me feel a bit nauseous.”

“Oh, no problem, son. Do you mind if I go grab a bit for myself? I happen to think apple pie goes beautifully with milk.”

“By all means, sir. Sounds like a good combination, indeed.”

“I’ll be right back.” Mr Jimmy rose to his feet and rushed to the kitchen, pulling a box of milk from inside a rather peculiar cupboard. 

Meanwhile, Beomgyu treated himself to another glorious bite. No sooner had he swallowed than he asked, “Sir, have you got any, um… record tapes?”

“Huh?” The old man returned with a glass of milk in hand, looking rather puzzled. “Do you mean cassette tapes?”

Beomgyu nodded, unfazed. He had grown quite accustomed to never getting the names of muggle objects right.

“Oh, yes, I’ve got plenty. They don’t sell quite as much as they used to, though, do they? Bit of a shame, if you ask me.”

“I see… My friend’s got a Walkman. We listen to music together quite often.”

“That same friend who introduced you to the Beatles?”

“Yeah, that’s him. Do you suppose I could, maybe, borrow some tapes for a few months?” Beomgyu asked tentatively, twitching his lips. “I promise I’ll bring them back safely. It’s just that we’re kinda running out of new things to listen to…”

“Don’t worry, lad. You can have them all to yourself, it’s not like they’re of any use to me anymore. See that box under the telly? Full of ‘em tapes.”

Beomgyu’s gaze followed the man’s finger, pointed towards the corner of the room: that square-shaped thing he had noticed earlier — that was a telly. The word instantly took him back to the very first moment he heard it, coming out of Kai’s mouth, on the very day they listened to the Beatles’ albums together in the Music classroom. It might have been something to do with films, if memory served him right.

It felt nice putting a shape to the name, at last, but he still had no clue what a telly actually was or what it did. And it wasn’t like he could just casually ask Mr Jimmy; the man was yet to fully grasp how a child like Beomgyu could know so little about music, what would he even think if he ever came to realise that the boy was also ignorant about something as seemingly mundane as a telly? Mr Jimmy might be oblivious to the existence of wizards, but he would be a hundred percent capable of telling something was very off.

“Here’s what we’ll do: you bring them over here for us to choose a few while I put on some music, how about that?” the man suggested with a grin of excitement.

“Right,” Beomgyu agreed, dashing across the room to grab the box of tapes — quite a heavy one, by the way. “Here, sir,” he said, letting out a sigh of relief after having struggled to lay the box on the table. “What are we listening to?”

“Supertramp’s Breakfast in America. A classic!” Mr Jimmy shouted from the corner; he was leaning over a flowerless, much more compact version of a graphomone. After he got the record spinning, he returned to the table and clapped his hands cheerfully at the sight of the old cardboard box. “All right, let’s see what we can find in here!”

“Sir, do you live alone?” Beomgyu asked, sitting back on his chair.

“Yes, son,” the man replied, half-focused on the task of pulling sticky tapes off the box. “Unfortunately, I do.”

“You don’t like it?”

“I don’t think anybody likes being alone, son.”

“Why are you alone, then?”

Mr Jimmy stood still for a moment, as if pondering Beomgyu’s question, then let out a long sigh. 

“My wife and our little boy, they, um… they passed away twenty years ago.” The man scrunched his nose slightly, his glistening light-blue eyes overflowing with the grief he was so thoroughly trying to hide.“Been on my own ever since.”

Beomgyu swallowed down hard. He couldn’t help but feel grateful for the music playing in the background, otherwise the silence would’ve been too heavy to bear. 

“I’m so sorry, sir,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it, son. Believe me, I’ve had much worse days,” Mr Jimmy said casually, giving a little wave. “Who do you live with?”

“My parents and my brother.”

“Nice. You lot get on well?”

“Relatively. My brother and I are super close, though.”

“Why didn't you bring him along?”

“We had a bit of a quarrel last night, so we’re not really on speaking terms.”

“Oh, that’s a pity,” Mr Jimmy said with disappointment while rummaging through the box. “What did you two quarrel about?”

Beomgyu shrugged. “Just the regular sibling stuff.”

“What are your ages again?”

“I’m twelve, he’s ten. We’re exactly one year and nine months apart.”

“I’ve got siblings myself. Three, to be exact. But we grew apart and, well, we all live in different corners of the world now.” Mr Jimmy seemed to have found what he was searching so diligently for, as he began pulling tapes from the box and piling them up on the table. “Oh, yes, of course you’ll want Ziggy Stardust. I’m not saying the entire name, though, am I? Bit of a mouthful!” 

Puzzled, Beomgyu picked the tape up and inspected the cover carefully; it was the picture of a blond-haired man with a guitar slung over his shoulders, standing in a filthy, poorly lit alley, and the words David Bowie — The Rise And Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars stood out against the evening dark-blue sky. He flipped it over to find “Starman” amongst the songs on the tracklist. 

“Mm… Let’s see how you feel about hard rock… Now, if you wish to become a real music fan, you’ve got to know Led Zeppelin… first, second, third, fourth… here, their first four albums… Have some Elton John… Ah, Rumours by Fleetwood Mac, absolutely, you cannot miss that. What else? Queen! Queen is very important, son, very important. A couple by ABBA, a couple by Pink Floyd as well… No Beatles…” he teased, giving Beomgyu a playful wink before arranging all the tapes in alphabetical order in front of him, but the boy was only half-listening. “I think you’re all set, son. This should cover a pretty decent start to your musical journey.”

“Sir, excuse me, but what’s the name of this song?” Beomgyu asked, suddenly much more interested in the oddly upbeat track that was coming from the record player. 

“Oh, I had a feeling you’d like it!” Mr Jimmy exclaimed joyfully. “It’s ‘The Logical Song’.”

“Have you got it on tape, by any chance?”

The old man smiled, seemingly amused by the boy’s excitement.   

“Well, not the single, but I reckon I might have the album here somewhere… let me just look a little harder, yeah?” he said, taking a good three minutes to find it amongst the sea of tapes. “There you go.”

“Thank you,” Beomgyu said, holding the tape in hands. On the cover, a smiling fat lady dressed in yellow held up an orange juice; muggles were, indeed, quite fascinating. “There are so many tapes, I’ll probably have to keep track of them in a notebook or something.”

“You should definitely write down your thoughts on each album so you can tell me about them later,” Mr Jimmy said, heading to the kitchen cupboards to fetch something.

“Wait, that’s actually a good idea, sir. I hate writing, though,” Beomgyu said, lowering his voice for the last part. 

“Let’s pop them into a bag, yeah?” He returned with a plastic bag and placed all of the tapes Beomgyu was meant to take home inside it. “Fancy some more pie, son?” 

“Hell, yes!” Beomgyu cheered far too eagerly, but promptly remembered his well-mannered ways. “That is, if it’s no trouble…”

“Course not,” the man chuckled. “More pie it is!”

Mr Jimmy helped Beomgyu and then himself to a generous slice of pie, and the two of them savoured the fabulous taste of caramelised apple whilst chattering away and listening to music. Breakfast in America had long since ended by the time Beomgyu realised the morning had passed and they were well into lunchtime. 

“Mr Jimmy, I probably should be getting back…” Beomgyu muttered, not particularly pleased about it, but his parents had likely already noticed his absence.

“So soon?” the man asked, looking quite unhappy himself, given the way his bushy grey eyebrows drew closer together. 

“Do you want to bring some pie for your brother? Let me just find a container—”

“No, sir, thank you,” Beomgyu cut in. “I wasn’t even supposed to be here in the first place…”

Confused, Mr Jimmy pushed his thin half-moon spectacles up the bridge of his nose. “Son, your family doesn’t know you’re here?”

Beomgyu shook his head.

“Blimey!” The man instantly rose to his feet, sounding distressed. “Your parents must be worried sick! You shouldn’t go around doing things like that! I won’t have them thinking I’ve kidnapped you, will I? At this age, honestly!”

“Sir, calm down. I’m sure they’re not worried. They don’t care about me, they just like bossing me around.”

“That’s not true, son, every parent cares about their child.”

“Mine don’t, sir,” Beomgyu stated matter-of-factly. “I’m not just saying that.”

“Well, I don’t believe you. Come on, let’s get going. I’ll see you out — oh, and don’t forget your tapes.”

Mr Jimmy hurriedly walked Beomgyu downstairs and out of the shop as though he genuinely dreaded getting mistaken for a child snatcher, whereas Beomgyu couldn’t stop himself from giggling the entire time. His good humour faltered, however, as soon as the cold wind full-on whipped his face.

“Bloody hell, it’s freezing out here!” he cried. 

“Don’t you give me a heart attack, Starboy. Go straight home. No taking little detours, do you hear me?”

“It’s Beomgyu.”

“I do not care,” Mr Jimmy snapped, his voice hoarse and grumpy. “Off you go!”

“All right, I’m going!” Beomgyu threw his hand up in mock defeat, laughing as he stepped onto the thick snow. “Thank you for the pie, sir, it was lovely. Oh, and for the tapes too, of course.”

“Not at all, it’s my pleasure, son. Thanks for poppin’ in,” the man said sincerely, bearing a tender smile on his wrinkled thin lips. “Happy Christmas, yeah?”

“Happy Christmas, sir.” Beomgyu smiled back, though farewell left a bitter taste on his tongue. “Mr Jimmy, I don’t think I’ll be able to come back any time soon…”

The old man pondered in silence for a moment.

“Gimme a second,” he muttered, raising one finger as though he’d just been reminded of something very important, then darted back into the shop. He returned with a small card between his fingers and handed it to Beomgyu. “Here. This is the shop’s address. You can write to me whenever you feel like it.”

“Thank you so much,” Beomgyu said; a truly heartfelt thanks rather than a merely polite one. “See you in the summer. Bye, sir!”

They waved each other goodbye one last time before Beomgyu began heading back home, Mr Jimmy’s watchful eyes following him until he took the first left and disappeared from the man’s sight.

Needless to say, Christmas dinner was a total disaster. 

Not only had Mother found out about Beomgyu’s little escape, but she had also been standing in the hallway when he finally came back, ready to drag him by the ear all the way upstairs. The single reason she hadn’t discovered the bag of tapes was because Beomgyu had been smart enough to levitate them through the window before walking in through the front door.

As if physically punishing her child wasn’t satisfying enough a pleasure, Beomgyu’s mother chose dinner time as the perfect moment to announce that he was grounded for the rest of the holidays. He didn’t care, though. It wasn’t like it made that much of a difference. He’d already been forbidden to leave the house or write to his friends even before getting grounded, so, at the end of the day, it was just reinforcement; a sweet reminder that, should he ever disobey again, the consequences would be severe.

A few days of mutual silent treatment later, Seonggyu came to Beomgyu’s bedroom in the middle of the night and, much to Beomgyu’s astonishment, apologised for all the things he had said. They made up, of course — Beomgyu wouldn’t admit it for the world, but he was incapable of staying mad at his brother for long — and everything went back to normal, although he decided that his friends were no longer a topic worth bringing up. 

As yet another form of punishment, Mother forbade the two boys to spend time together; nonetheless, Seonggyu managed to sneak into his brother’s room every single night so as to sleep next to him, sneaking back into his own bed by morning, right up until Beomgyu’s very last night at home.

“Promise you’ll write,” Seonggyu whispered as they shared a tight, genuine farewell hug in the entrance hall. “I’m allowed to at least read your letters, I think.”

“Will do,” Beomgyu promised, pulling away and offering his brother the best reassuring smile he could manage.

“Mother, can I please come to the station?” Seonggyu begged her; Beomgyu could see her through the doorway, sitting in the living room and reading the Daily Prophet with a careless look on her face. “I really want to wave him off—”

“We’ve already discussed this, darling,” Mrs Choi said flatly, not sparing him a glance. “My answer hasn’t changed.”

Seonggyu breathed out a melancholic sigh and turned back to his brother. “Goodbye, Beom,” he muttered, eyes on the floor; it was obvious he’d got a bit teary and was trying his best to hide it.

“Don’t be such a crybaby,” Beomgyu teased, ruffling the other boy’s thoroughly tidied hair. “I’ll be home soon.”

“Shall we?” Father cut in, blatantly bringing the playful brotherly moment to an end.

There was a part of Beomgyu that honestly felt for his brother, one that didn’t want to leave him behind, alone and miserable, and that would miss him dearly. But the better part of him just couldn’t wait to be on the train back to Hogwarts, back to the company of his friends, back to the red and gold that had melted down all the black and silver in his heart.

Seonggyu’s hug had been the only red and gold thing about home, but it wasn’t quite enough to make Beomgyu want to stay. As he walked out of the house alongside his father and held onto the man’s arm so they could disapparate, Beomgyu felt utterly relieved.

“I’m afraid this is where I leave you,” Father announced shortly after they apparated into a narrow alley near the train station, but safely out of the Muggles’ sight.

“It’s all right, Father, I know my way round,” Beomgyu said, trying to contain his growing excitement. “Thank you.”

“It goes without saying that I expect you to use the next six months for reflection,” his father said in a low, threatening voice; it was the most he had spoken to Beomgyu in over two weeks. Mr Choi was that kind of parent who rarely addressed his children, the kind who considered his own offspring unworthy of his time and would rather keep his distance until they became of age; after all, what could he possibly have in common with a child? There was nothing to talk about. “We shall speak again upon your return.”

 Beomgyu just nodded, not particularly interested in making that moment last any longer than necessary. So, when the man apparated back home, the boy made his way into the station as quickly as he could, not caring how carelessly he dragged his very fancy — and extremely heavy — trunk across the sidewalk. Finally, he ran through the magical barrier onto platform nine and three-quarters and that was all it took for him to feel completely, wholeheartedly free, almost as if the air were fresher and he could breathe more easily.

The soft smile that appeared on Beomgyu’s lips was involuntary, and it only grew wider the moment he spotted, amongst the sea of wizards, a very familiar pair of big brown eyes behind perfectly round spectacles. Taehyun’s gaze instantly met his, as if the boy had sensed his presence somehow, and Beomgyu didn’t even think twice before running towards him, leaving his trunk behind and dodging whomever he had to. Just as eager, Taehyun raced to meet him halfway. They collided into each other’s arms, though you couldn’t quite call it a hug; both boys began jumping around completely out of sync, making squeaky noises of excitement. 

“Will you two keep it down,” someone hissed grumpily; Soobin, naturally. “You’re literally squawking like a couple of mating hippogriffs at a train station full of people, I’m honestly embarrassed.”

“Join us, you grouchy old man,” Beomgyu managed through the sudden breathlessness, stretching out an inviting arm.

“I’d rather kill myself, thank you.” 

“Let’s get him,” Taehyun said with a smirk.

“Will you please not—” 

Soobin’s request got cut off. Against his will, Taehyun and Beomgyu squeezed him into an overly tight group hug, during which he did nothing but protest. Eventually, he gave in and started laughing along, and the trio shortly pulled away.

“So, how was your holiday?” asked Taehyun, his shark-like teeth peeking out. 

“Bloody awful, wasn’t it?” Beomgyu said, pulling a disgusted face. “Lots of catching up to do later. Kai?”

“We haven’t seen him yet,” Soobin replied with a shrug. 

“Must be on the train already,” Taehyun presumed. “Come on, lads, let’s go find him.”

The three boys then picked up their belongings and got on the train in search of their friend, hoping he had already secured a nice compartment. However, Kai was nowhere to be found. 

“We’ve looked everywhere!” Soobin exclaimed, visibly upset, as they entered the very last empty compartment.

“The train leaves in three minutes,” Taehyun added, checking his watch.

Beomgyu leaned over the window so as to take a look outside. “I don’t see him on the platform, either.”

“Something must’ve happened.” Taehyun said as he sat by the window.

Soobin took the window seat across from him. 

“Have any of you heard from him over the holidays?” Beomgyu asked, sitting next to Taehyun.

“I haven’t.”

“He sent me a Happy New Year letter,” Soobin said.

“Wait, why didn’t he send me one too?” Taehyun asked with a frown.

“Because he likes me better, sweetheart, isn’t that obvious?” Soobin deadpanned and Beomgyu laughed faintly, while Taehyun looked offended. “Anyway, he seemed just fine, not a single word about not coming back.”

“Perhaps he’s just… I don't know, running late or something?” Beomgyu suggested. 

“Yeah, let’s chill,” Taehyun said, propping his head against the window. “There are other ways of getting to Hogwarts if you miss the train, anyway.”

Suddenly, the train pulled out of the station. As the minutes passed and other students started to enter the compartment, it became more evident that Kai was simply not coming. 

“Feels a bit incomplete, doesn’t it?” Soobin whispered nearly an hour in, his eyes distant as he stared out the window, definitely not sounding like he expected an answer.

None came, anyway. But Beomgyu silently agreed. It did feel incomplete. 

Kai didn’t show up for dinner. Nor the next day. Nor the day after that.

When it was just Beomgyu and Taehyun, the world seemed to spin perfectly. When it was the three of them, however, things felt a bit… out of place. There was this silent yet unsettling sense of awkwardness and concern that hung overhead like a heavy rain cloud, not letting them forget that their friend was missing, even when they didn’t exactly address it.

Sometimes, though, they did.

“Shouldn’t we just… write to him?” Beomgyu suggested over breakfast on the fourth day.

“Done that already,” Soobin muttered, disheartened, chewing a piece of bacon. “No reply.”

“Do you guys think that… maybe…” Taehyun couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence; instead, he swallowed it down and cleared his throat, as if the words hurt him on a personal level. 

“His mother’s passed away?” Beomgyu completed.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Don’t say that!” Soobin snapped. “No, stop. That’s not what I want to believe.”

Uncomfortable silence lingered for a few moments. Taehyun seemed to have lost his appetite altogether. 

“May I ask what he said in the letter he sent you?” Beomgyu asked, narrowing his eyes at Soobin.

“It wasn’t a particularly long one. Not much of a talkative person, is he? ‘Happy New Year’. ‘I hate the cold’. ‘See you soon’. Stuff like that.”

“I see.”

Taehyun sighed. “Let’s just wait for news.”

As a last resort, the boys tried to get some answers from a couple of teachers, but none seemed willing to disclose any information regarding Kai’s whereabouts. They were starting, very reluctantly so, to grow used to the idea that they might not hear from their friend any time soon. Maybe not ever.

Two days later, however, Kai returned; it was around half past seven in the morning when Taehyun, Beomgyu and Soobin got up to get ready for class and noticed that the curtains around Kai’s bed were closed, and his trunk was sitting right next to it. The three boys exchanged intrigued glances and held a silent and brief debate on whether they should disturb Kai. In the end, despite Soobin’s anxiety, they agreed to head for breakfast and let Kai rest; at least, now they knew that their friend was safe and sound, so the long-anticipated conversation could wait a bit longer.

After an awfully long day of classes, the trio hurried back to the dormitory hoping to find Kai awake. And there he was, standing by his bed, looking like he had just got out of the shower; he was wearing oversized pyjamas, damp hair still unbrushed, and seemed a bit taken aback as his three housemates stared at him as if he were a ghost.

Kai’s face was puffy with sleep, but Beomgyu couldn’t help but notice how tired he still looked, despite having had so many hours of rest. Not only did he look knackered, but he seemed weaker and paler than usual.

“Hiya,” Kai greeted, albeit not very enthusiastically.

There was a moment’s pause, during which Beomgyu could’ve sworn Soobin would dart towards Kai and pull him into a tight embrace; but, for some reason, he stood frozen in place.

“Hello there, mate,” Taehyun greeted, taking matters into his own hands since everybody else seemed to have forgotten how to speak. “Where’ve you been?”

“Home,” Kai replied in a concerningly frail voice — he did look like someone mourning the loss of a loved one. “Got back this morning.”

“We missed you.” 

“Everything all right?” Soobin plucked up the courage to ask, walking over to Kai’s bed while the other two boys sat on Beomgyu’s.

Kai nodded, attempting a soft smile. “Yeah, fine. Just felt like staying at home a little longer.”

That boy was exceptionally talented at lying, Beomgyu thought to himself. It was quite impressive, really, the way he was able to keep the straightest face while blatantly spilling the most deceptive string of words.  

“So… nothing happened?” Beomgyu spoke for the first time. “At all?”

Kai frowned, his brown eyes falling on Beomgyu. “Like what?”

“Like anything.”

“No.” Kai shook his head. “Nothing happened.”

“Kai, we were so worried,” Soobin said, his tone heavy with resentment. “Didn’t you get my letter?”

“What letter?”

“The one I sent you four days ago.”

“Um… Not really, no.”

“Couldn’t you have given us a heads-up?”

“We were really worried, mate,” Taehyun chimed in. 

“We thought your mother had bloody died,” Beomgyu blurted out, drawing disapproving glares from Soobin and Taehyun, but he couldn’t care less. 

“What — no, no one’s dead,” Kai was quick to say, waving one hand frantically. “Look, I’m sorry I made you lot worry, that wasn’t my intention. Like, at all. Won’t happen again. As for my business with my family, though… I’d rather keep it private, if that’s okay.”

Despite Kai’s being ever so soft-spoken, Beomgyu could tell that he was dead serious, and so could the others, so they quietly decided to not push any further.

“Do you wanna be left alone?” Taehyun asked, looking up at Kai with reassuring eyes.

“Please,” Kai breathed out. 

“All right, let’s head for dinner, everyone!” Taehyun promptly got to his feet and Beomgyu followed suit. Soobin, however, seemed reluctant. “Are you not coming, mate?”

“You two go ahead,” Soobin said with a small nod; it was clear that he wanted to speak to Kai privately. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“All right, then.”

Beomgyu and Taehyun then left the dormitory together and headed downstairs, walking side by side.

“He must think we’re so entitled,” Taehyun commented as they exited the common room, away from prying eyes and ears. There was a hint of shame in his voice that Beomgyu instantly picked up on. “Not just you and me, by the way. Soobin as well.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Whatever Kai’s got going on, he said he’d rather not share, and that should be fine. He doesn’t have to, you know? We’ve gotta let go for good.”

“All we’ve been trying to do is help, what’s so wrong with that?” Beomgyu countered.

“Yeah, but that’s sort of backfired, hasn't it?” Taehyun sighed. “He doesn’t want our help, mate. I suppose all we’ve actually done was make him feel cornered…”

“What do you suggest we do then?”

“Maybe we should do nothing, really. Just, you know, act normal. Give him some space.”

“Says the voice of reason,” Beomgyu teased.

“Someone’s gotta do the job.”

Beomgyu let out a laugh of mockery before shifting the topic to an entirely new direction, and they chattered cheerfully about unimportant things all the way to the Great Hall, as well as over dinner. They’d been halfway through their meal when Soobin finally showed up — and he wasn’t alone. Taehyun and Beomgyu exchanged surprised glances, thinking the exact same thing: if Kai wanted to be alone so much, how the hell had Soobin managed to talk him into leaving the dormitory? And not only had Kai shown up for dinner, but he’d also brushed his hair and changed into regular clothes — which, for him, meant cute grandpa-looking oversized jumpers.

Soobin ducked under the table so as to cross to the other side and took the spot beside Taehyun, while Kai sat next to Beomgyu.

“Hi,” Beomgyu said tentatively; he had absolutely no clue whether Kai wanted to interact with him, or how upset he was. 

“Hi,” Kai said gently, though, offering Beomgyu a warm smile that washed away the tension entirely.

He didn’t feel or look anything like the Kai from about twenty minutes earlier.

“Feeling better?”

“I will, after I’ve eaten,” Kai replied light-heartedly, squinting his eyes at all the food laid out in front of them. “I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.”

Beomgyu laughed softly. “Poor horse. Is that how Muggles say it?”

“Yeah…” Kai helped himself to steak and mashed potatoes, then looked at Beomgyu. “Wait, how would you have said it?”

“I’m so hungry I could eat an unicorn.”

“Poor unicorn, I suppose.”

Both boys giggled at their silly little joke, and then Beomgyu rested one elbow over the table, fist propping up his chin.

“Guess what,” he said, grinning while Kai popped a disturbingly rare piece of steak into his mouth. “I went to see my Muggle friend on Christmas Eve. Turns out his name’s Jimmy, and he gave me loads of tapes.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm. There’s this one I’ve been dying to show you.”

“Oh, sure,” Kai said a bit shyly, averting his eyes for a second. “I brought a few from home as well. And they’re my own taste this time, not just Mum’s.”

“Brilliant. Now we’ve really got a whole year’s worth of tapes,” Beomgyu joked with a smirk; just a casual comment, intentionally disguising his interest in knowing a little bit more about the peculiar boy beside him. 

“Can’t survive without it, can we?”

“Definitely not.”