Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bang!

Something heavy hits the floorboards above. Possibly a trunk. Possibly a corpse. Possibly Hwang In-ho's will to live. The ceiling shudders. Dust rains down like confetti.

He yanks the covers over his head, as if cotton and denial can drive away the noise. Fuck his life. This is the third time this week In-ho has been rudely awoken before the sun rises… and it’s only Wednesday. He’s starting to think the ghoul in the attic has a personal vendetta against him.

CRASH!

Okay, definitely a vendetta against him. Good to know.

Throwing the covers off with a loud groan, In-ho casts a quick tempus. The glowing numbers hover in the air like a personal insult.

6:19 A.M.

Vacation means sleeping in until at least 7. It’s a luxury he’s not been permitted (or permitted himself) in Merlin knows how long. In-ho never thought he’d miss the shoebox apartment he used to share with four other wizards. But the unwanted squatter currently residing in his attic has altered his perspective on the quality of his past roommates.

Groggily pulling on his robe, In-ho trudges out of his room. The house is quiet now. Suspiciously so. It’s the kind of quiet that makes his Auror instincts twitch. Warily padding down the stairs, he stops on the last step.

The kitchen is occupied by someone far more dangerous than any Dark wizard In-ho has ever faced off against.

Jun-ho, his half brother, is perched on a stool that looks one sneeze away from collapse. Do all six-year-olds wake up at the crack of dawn? Or just this quirky one? In-ho doesn’t recall rising before the sun until he was in his second year at Hogwarts. It was not of his own volition either - his deranged, Quidditch-obsessed dormmate faithfully dragged him out of bed whenever they had practice. For years.

Jun-ho squints at the contents of his mixing bowl with the intensity of a Potions Master analyzing one of his own concoctions. “Oh bollocks,” he mutters, fishing out a large shard of egg shell.

In-ho winces. British slang in South Korea? Lovely. Three guesses who he picked that up from.

Leaning against the doorway, he watches the chaos unfold with morbid fascination. Strangely, it’s moments like this that make him miss the (relative) predictability of being an Auror. Duels, dark magic, death threats, long days, and early mornings? Easy. Childcare? Utter madness and significantly more stressful.

In truth, In-ho's 'vacation' is actually a leave of absence. And it wasn't voluntary. Following the unexpected passing of his stepmother - which came six months after the death of their father - In-ho was awarded sole custody of little Jun-ho. Soon after, Head Auror Il-nam all but shoved him out the door, ‘Your career can wait, Auror In-ho. That child needs you right now.’ To say he hadn’t been pleased by his boss’s decree would be the understatement of the century. The only thing In-ho had ever wanted in life was to become an Auror. And for five years (including his time in training), he was able to live his dream day in and day out.

Then overnight, everything was taken from him. Through no fault of his own.

It wasn't fair.

Aish, stop dwelling on it, In-ho mentally chides himself.

But it's hard not to. For one, he wasn't given a timeframe of when he could return. And yes, In-ho asked. Several times, in fact. Just yesterday, his boss sent him a Howler, claiming he'd strip him of his badge if he didn't stop 'bugging' him about it. It was unnecessarily rude, in In-ho's opinion. Not one to tolerate ill-manners, he sent one back. Like hello, he lives in a house with a six-year-old, who is now scared shitless of the mail. So thanks for that.

While working as an Auror, In-ho was confident in his abilities. He rarely grappled with existential doubt. Whenever uncertainty crept in, there was always someone nearby to offer guidance. But as the sole guardian of an energetic, adorable six-year-old? Sweet Merlin, In-ho has NEVER felt so out of his depth in his life! Suddenly, he's second-guessing nearly every decision he makes. There's no one for him to turn to for (experienced) advice either - his closest family members are gone, and his friends are, frankly, still figuring out adulthood themselves (which is understandable, since In-ho is only twenty-two).

So it's just him and his child... oh, and the blasted ghoul in the attic, who is slowly driving him to the brink of insanity.

For about a week, while In-ho dealt with funeral arrangements and an unholy amount of paperwork, they stayed in the familiar comfort of the Muggle house Jun-ho grew up in. It lulled In-ho into a false sense of competence and security. Ha, how foolish. Since then, it’s been chaos, improvisation, and a whole lot of trial and error... too much error for In-ho's perfectionist brain to handle, but alas. He sometimes wonders if Jun-ho would be better off with a proper wizarding family. But In-ho can’t let his brother go. He’s too proud. Too stubborn. Too selfish.

“What mess are you making now, Mister Jun-ho?” In-ho asks, lowering his voice a few octaves to sound more authoritative... and to obscure how sleep-deprived he is.

Jun-ho whirls around (guiltily, his mind supplies), nearly toppling off the stool. In-ho’s heart lurches, but the boy steadies himself before he falls. “Morning, hyung!” he chirps, grinning proudly like he just won a duel. "No mess. I'm makin' breakfast!"

Sighing internally, In-ho surveys the damage. Egg in the hair and on the ceiling. Flour on the floor. Something sticky on the walls… hopefully it's just syrup, though it's likely residue from a six-year-old's version of a potion. Either way, it’s going to require a Scourgify and possibly an exorcism to clean up.

Looking back, if In-ho could redo any part of his life, he would have moved into the Hwang ancestral home right after their father passed. At the time, he convinced himself that rattling around a mansion alone was more trouble than it was worth. Aish, if only he knew what would happen six months later...

Hwangsil Hall is by no means a terrible place to live. It’s spacious, secluded, and undeniably magical. The only problem? It had been abandoned for decades. The apartment In-ho lived in prior to becoming Jun-ho's guardian wasn't suitable for a child, so the best choice for them was to relocate to their ancestral estate. During In-ho's first visit, he was bombarded by gnome-thrown rocks, tripped over a cursed rocking chair, and hexed by a sentient tapestry... all within five minutes of crossing the threshold. Fortunately, he had the good sense to leave his younger brother with a coworker. No child should ever see a house elf mid-decomposition.

For three long, grueling days, In-ho went on a rampage. Banishing boggarts. Reinforcing wards. Locking away magical artifacts. Casting Unbreakable Charms on anything remotely dangerous. Stocking the pantry with food. Dusting. By the end of the third day, the house was still a mess, but it was livable… so long as they didn’t venture anywhere outside of the foyer, drawing room, kitchen, and downstairs bathroom. Jun-ho had dubbed their sleeping arrangement ‘indoor camping’. He’d said it with such enthusiasm, In-ho hadn’t corrected him.

Naturally, since the Hwang ancestral estate is magical, everything within it is too. Meaning even an atypically self-sufficient six-year-old shouldn’t be able to use the stove - not without a wand. And since eleven is the legal age to buy said wand, Jun-ho shouldn’t have one.

And yet…

“Jun-ho,” In-ho chides, plucking his wand out of his brother’s hand (he hadn’t even realized it was missing, which is disgraceful considering 'constant vigilance' is one of the main pillars of being an Auror… and because this is by no means the first time his brother has swiped it), “what have I told you about stealing my wand?”

Jun-ho shrinks a little, but his eyes stay earnest. “Erm… to n-not do it?”

Lifting the little gremlin off the stool, In-ho plops him onto a chair at the kitchen table, then turns the stove off. “Correct,” he says, suppressing the urge to use a Temporary Sticking Charm to ensure Jun-ho stays.

To be fair, his little brother tends to only find trouble when he’s left to his own devices. Last week, In-ho's deductive reasoning skills were put to the test when Jun-ho refused to explain the cause of the mysterious scratches scattered across his body. Turns out, he unintentionally pissed off a colony of Bowtruckles by climbing their tree. After promising not to eradicate the creatures… though In-ho was so tempted... he gave his brother a brief lesson on them. Days later, the six-year-old somehow became their de facto leader. In-ho can't prove the little buggers are to blame for Jun-ho's sudden expert lock-picking abilities, but it’s only a matter of time before he catches them in the act.

“But hyung -”

“And why do we not do it?” In-ho continues stubbornly.

“Cuz I might accidentally set fire to the kitchen,” Jun-ho recites dutifully. “Again.”

“Exactly.”

His brother swings his legs back and forth, looking contrite. For about three seconds. “But hyung, even if I accidentally do something bad, you could just fix it. Like last time... and the times before that!” The little boy peers up at him with wide, sparkling eyes. In-ho knows his brother well enough to recognize this isn’t a manipulation tactic to avoid punishment; Jun-ho genuinely believes his hyung can do anything and everything imaginable. Ah, the naivety of youth. “When I grow up, I wanna be the best wizard ever, just like you!”

Merlin only knows why Jun-ho decided his neglectful older brother is the prime person to idolize - lack of options, most likely - but regardless, it makes In-ho’s throat constrict. He’s so undeserving. Sure, he can cast almost every spell he knows wandlessly (though the results vary wildly). But beyond dueling dark wizards and chasing criminals? In-ho is bloody clueless. He’s not even properly grown up himself!

“You’ll be loads better than me, little one, but -”

Anxiety creeps into Jun-ho's tone. "How can I be like you if I don’t practice?” he asks, gesturing wildly as he talks. “They’re gonna kick me out of magic school on my first day! Can you imagine the shame? The ancestors would be so sad, you can go and ask them!”

In-ho gently places his hands on his brother’s shoulders. “Listen to hyung, okay?” he begins, using the sternest voice he can muster in the face of such tooth-rotting sweetness. “Six-year-olds don’t practice magic. You need to learn important things before ‘magic school’ - like reading, writing, arithmetic, history, and most of all, how proper young wizards are meant to behave. And that includes NOT stealing from anyone, especially their older brothers!”

Jun-ho's pout is brutal, but In-ho is a hardened Auror. He won’t be swayed. He won’t.

“I didn’t steal it!” his brother insists, his tone suggesting he legitimately can’t believe In-ho would dare accuse him of the treachery he obviously committed. “I borrowed it. I was gonna give it back as soon as I was done!”

“You still took it without permission -”

“To make us breakfast, hyung!” the six-year-old says exasperatedly, like he's the one talking to an obstinate child. Pfft.

A headache suddenly blooms behind In-ho's eyes. Aish, he needs coffee. Or a bottle of whiskey. Or maybe whiskey in his coffee? Why are six-year-olds so argumentative? How does so much sass come from someone so small? There’s no way he talked to his mother like this, right?

“Using a wand when you’re underage is illegal. Do you want to go to wizard jail, little one? I don’t think you’d enjoy it.”

“Hyungie, it’s only illegal if I get caught!”

It’s so fucking hard to keep a straight face, but this is serious. So as an adult, In-ho will remain serious. Very serious. “That’s absolutely not true, for one. Also, I caught you, Jun-ho.”

“Are you gonna be a tattletale, hyung?”

Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t laugh.

“If it keeps you from getting hurt, then yeah!”

“Hyung can fix -”

“NO!”

The word explodes out of In-ho like a misfired spell. He slams his fist against the table, the sound echoing through the kitchen. Jun-ho recoils back, his shoulders curling inward like a scolded puppy. In-ho winces. He hadn’t meant to scare his brother. But the fear clawing at his chest is louder than guilt, louder than reason. He’s too tired, too strung out, too terrified of the endless parade of what-ifs to soften his voice.

“Hyung cannot fix everything, Jun-ho! If you wave around a wand that didn’t choose you and set yourself on fire, hyung cannot fix it. If you fall out of that tree you keep climbing, even though I’ve told you not to, and crack your head open, hyung cannot fix it. If you sneak into one of the rooms you’re forbidden from entering and get mauled by a monster I haven’t chased out yet, hyung cannot fix it. If you break into the locked potions lab to ‘science’ on your own and mix something that explodes in your face, hyung cannot fix it!” Jun-ho’s bottom lip quivers, but In-ho presses on. “I don’t make rules because I like bossing you around, Jun-ho. These rules exist so I don’t have to bury my baby brother in the ground with the rest of our family.”

In-ho stares at the boy across from him, heart pounding. Jun-ho’s eyes are glassy, his small frame rigid. And In-ho hates himself for it. Hates that he had to say it like that. Hates that he’s the one who has to be the adult when he still feels like a child himself.

Logically, In-ho knew raising a six-year-old wouldn’t be easy. What he hadn’t anticipated was Jun-ho’s total absence of fear. Then again, maybe ‘fear’ isn’t even the right word. How can you be afraid of something you don’t understand? It was naïve to assume Jun-ho would instinctively recognize the dangers woven into the magical world. But his brother's lack of knowledge is neither his fault, nor In-ho's own.

No, the blame falls solely to them.

His parents.

Their father especially.

In-ho grits his teeth, fury simmering just beneath the surface. That man should have laid the foundation for Jun-ho’s introduction to the magical world. But instead, he buried the truth under layers of Muggle ‘normalcy’ and called it parenting.

Ooh, that bastard is lucky he’s dead! Honestly, In-ho has half a mind to dig out the Necromancy books he glimpsed in the attic and resurrect him (their ancestors were obsessive academics, not dark magic practitioners). Of course, he's not looking to bring their father back permanently. Merlin, no. Just long enough to scream at him, to make him feel the full weight of his failures. In-ho had tried to change his decision when he was alive, but it hadn’t been enough. Now after seeing the damage up close, he realizes he should have tried harder.

Their father wasn’t the only neglectful bastard in the family though.

In-ho will be the first to admit he wasn’t the older brother Jun-ho deserved. Sixteen years older, a workaholic, allergic to small talk and small children, he’d kept his distance. Let the gap grow. But the real wedge had come from his stepmother’s obsession with Jun-ho being raised as a Muggle. Magic, which she viewed as ‘dangerous funny-business’, should be hidden. Denied. After hearing that, In-ho had to take a lap around the neighborhood to cool down (the walking kind of lap, sadly, not the broom kind). 

To be clear, In-ho isn’t a blood purist. He doesn’t care about lineage or labels, and he has no problem with Muggles, Squibs, Halfbloods, or Muggleborns. His father raising his younger brother outside of the magical world didn’t bother him either. It was an unusual choice, sure, but not unheard of. In fact, In-ho's best friend since Hogwarts was a Halfblood, just like Jun-ho. And though Hyeon grew up in the Muggle World, he knew all along he was a wizard.

What bothered In-ho: by withholding the truth of Jun-ho's magical blood from him, they were stripping away a core part of his identity. In his eyes, it was one of the cruelest, most abusive things they could do to that child.

The moment he had the chance, In-ho confronted their father. This was the same man who had taught him to be proud of his magical heritage, who once filled his head with tales of the Hwang line, of the formidable witches and wizards that had come before them. And now he was raising his second son in ignorance? What was he going to do when Jun-ho levitated a toy mid-tantrum? Or turned the bathwater into jelly? To this day, their father’s response still fills In-ho with unparalleled rage. The Head of the Hwang line shrugged off the concerns of his heir. Shrugged! He was too eager to please, too enamored with his new wife - who he’d fallen for less than a year after the death of the witch his parents had arranged for him to marry - to listen to sense.

Worst of all, up until his death, their father discreetly used magic and entered the Wizarding World whenever he needed something… which his second wife not only knew, but accepted! Their hypocrisy made In-ho so unbelievably sick to his stomach, he distanced himself for years. The estrangement would have gone on indefinitely, had he not received a letter written in crayon and signed, ‘Love Your Dongsaeng, Jun-ho’. A blatant manipulation tactic from their father, but it worked. In-ho (begrudgingly) agreed to the rules. Pretended to be a Muggle cop. Hid his wand. Bit his tongue. When their father suggested an Unbreakable Vow, In-ho took great pleasure in chastising him for audaciously insinuating he wasn't trustworthy... even though he fully intended to tell Jun-ho the truth at some point.

Everything changed the moment he came face-to-face with his brother. Four-years-old. Tiny for his age. Shyer than a Mooncalf. Too pure and kindhearted to survive in the world without an older brother looking out for him. Before letting In-ho into the house, their father warned him not to take it personally if Jun-ho hardly spoke a word, blahblahblah.

The initial few minutes were awkward, as the brothers silently sized each other up. It was actually Jun-ho who broke the stand-off first, by quietly asking about his favorite superheroes. Unfamiliar with Muggle pop culture, In-ho deflected with a vague, ‘I don’t really have one’. A similarly evasive response was given when asked about his favorite K-pop groups. Feeling wretched - the poor boy looked crushed by the non-answers - In-ho interrupted his stepmother to ask his brother for his personal recommendations. And just like that, he was instantly promoted to the top of, 'Hwang Jun-ho’s List of Favoritest People in the Whole Wide World' (which is currently pinned to the cold box in their kitchen). Their father, who previously held the position, did not take the demotion well. Yet even after the man died of Dragon Pox (proof karma is real: he contracted the disease during one of his secret forays into the Wizarding World), In-ho couldn’t bring himself to tell Jun-ho about his heritage. He wasn't willing to risk being booted from his brother’s life if his stepmother found out he blabbed.

Of course, in the end, In-ho had no choice but to tell Jun-ho the truth. His brother took the news surprisingly well… at least once In-ho demonstrated it wasn’t a prank.

Looking impossibly smaller than he already is, Jun-ho’s voice is fragile, barely above a whisper. “Jun-ho is… m’sorry, hyung. I just wanted to h-help.”

The pitiable sight tugs on the heartstrings In-ho didn’t even know he had. “I know, little prince,” he murmurs, using the same term of endearment his grandmother once called him. “Hyung is sorry for yelling.”

But the apology doesn’t soothe Jun-ho. If anything, it’s a catalyst. The little boy abruptly bursts into tears. Not even tears, it’s more like gut-wrenching sobs. They wrack Jun-ho’s undersized frame with such force, he nearly falls out of the chair. And In-ho, despite the ache in his chest, exhales in relief.

Finally.

Jun-ho has always been a sensitive child. A walking heart with legs. Their father, who viewed emotions as an inconvenience, would scoff whenever his youngest cried. He dismissed it as weakness. A fault. But In-ho knows better. Jun-ho doesn’t cry because he’s fragile; he cries because he cares, deeply and instinctively, about people, animals, even inanimate objects. Once, their father mentioned he was thinking of trading in the family car for a newer model, and Jun-ho wept as if mourning a fallen comrade. The little boy was convinced their current vehicle would feel abandoned and unloved.

But these past three weeks? There's been nothing. Not a single tear. During his mother’s funeral, Jun-ho kept his chin high, displaying the emotional stoicism of someone ten times his age. He didn’t even cry when he left his old house behind in the Muggle World. There have been other oddities as well... like how Jun-ho has made zero attempts, either sneaky or blatant, to smuggle stray creatures into the house. In the past, whenever In-ho caught his brother trying to hide some underprivileged animal in his bedroom, he would tsk and tut because he was ‘older and responsible’. But since it was important to his brother, he’d still help in whatever way he could (usually by acting as the distraction).

He hadn't known what to do about it. So he waited. And now, the dam was breaking.

“There, there, little one,” In-ho murmurs, taking the small boy into his arms… or rather, he tries to. Jun-ho, who has never shied from his touch, squirms away.

“It’s not fair, hyung, it’s not fair!” Merlin’s beard, is making breakfast really that important? “S’not fair that you have to take care of me!”

In-ho blinks. “Wait, what?”

“It’s not fair that you have to take care of me!”

“I heard you the first time, but -”

“I’m happy, ‘course.” Jun-ho scrubs at his cheeks with a tiny fist, smearing tears and snot across his face. “I don’t wanna live at, umm… the house with other kids who don’t have eommas and appas -”

“Orphanage,” In-ho supplies, trying not to gag at the sheer volume of mucus. It’s everywhere.

“Yeah, there. So I’m happy hyung is letting me live here when he doesn’t even want kids.”

“What?” In-ho repeats, stunned. “Says who?”

“Says YOU!” Jun-ho hiccups, glaring at him through watery eyes. “You told Appa you’ll never have your own ‘spawn’. I heard you!"

Ah, right. As sensitive and sweet as his little brother is, the little gremlin has always been a snoop. Though in Jun-ho's defense, In-ho gleefully (and loudly) told their father - who considered himself a ‘family man’, believe it or not - that he’d never settle down. Never marry. Never have children. His career was his one and only priority.

“Jun-ho -”

But the boy barrels on, voice rising with emotion. “Eomma said when people do nice stuff for you, you should be… I forgot the word. But you’re s’posed to be nice in return. Hyung lets me live in his house, which is nice. He bought me clothes and toys and books, which is extra nice. And he shows me magic, which is extra, extra nice. So since hyung does all that for me, I should do nice things for him too. I can make food, and get dressed, and take baths on my own, and not bring animals inside even if they need help, and not be a crybaby -” Jun-ho hurriedly turns his head, as if it’ll make In-ho forget he ever saw his tears. “I wanted to do all that, so I don’t burden hyung. ‘Cept this house is weird… I mean, it’s different. Which isn’t bad. Just… different? But I’ll learn and get better. I promise! So even though hyung doesn’t like kids like me, he won’t regret taking me in.”

Oh.

Oh no.

It feels like In-ho took a Bludger straight to the chest. Several of them. In a row! How had he missed this? The hyper-independence, the quiet compliance, the absence of sassiness and stray animals. It wasn’t maturity, it wasn’t ‘adjusting’. It was fear.

“Come here, my little gremlin.” Grabbing the chair leg, In-ho hauls his brother closer and scoops him into a big ole’ hippogriff hug. “Hyung doesn’t want children of his own, you’re right about that. But you’re my brother, Jun-ho, who just happens to be a kid right now. And that’s not the same thing, okay? Hyung is sad for you, because he knows what it’s like to lose a mother. But he’s so glad that we’re finally together, like we should have been from the beginning.”

“Maybe you don’t know this, hyung," Jun-ho says matter-of-factly, "but kids are ‘spensive. Appa always said so -”

“Appa was a cheap bastard.” Oh shit. “Don’t repeat that word until you’re twelve, please. But you’re a Hwang, Jun-ho, which means you come from a long line of successful witches and wizards. We have plenty of money.” Technically, they never need to work if they don’t want to, but In-ho keeps that tidbit to himself. It might discourage Jun-ho from trying hard in school. “And in regards to this house? It's ours. You have just as much right to live here as I do.”

He suppresses a shudder when Jun-ho sniffles. So. Much. Mucus! “Do I get to make the rules too? Cuz it’s my house as well?”

“Once you’re of age, sure,” In-ho hums, ruffling his brother’s hair. “Until then, we can discuss them together, though hyung has final say.” He chuckles when his brother boos - there’s his sassy little shit. “You don’t have to earn your keep either. You’re a kid, Jun-ho, that’s your job.”

“What’s hyung’s job?” Jun-ho softly asks.

“To make sure you get to be a kid.” In-ho isn’t lying either! Granted, he had dedicated eight years of his life to becoming/being an Auror. It was a job with long, unpredictable hours and near-constant danger. But it gave him purpose. Nothing else could compare. He’ll just have to find a way to balance his new parental responsibilities with his career, that’s all. “I love you to pieces, little one, no matter how old you are. Or aren't. Please never doubt that.”

Jun-ho’s face scrunches up in thought. In-ho can practically hear the unspoken question: If you love me so much, then where have you been until now?

He smooths a hand over the boy’s hair, both to comfort and to discreetly wipe away the egg yolk. “Me not spending a lot of time with you before now had nothing to do with you, okay? Appa and I didn’t have the best relationship.” Because he was a selfish, hypocritical asshole. “And your mother and I… we disagreed on some major things.”

“Like that Iron Man is cooler than Batman?” Jun-ho accepts the handkerchief In-ho conjures, then stares at it like it’s a foreign object. Right. Muggles use disposable tissues. “Or that football is better than basketball?”

“More like that you should be told you’re a wizard.”

Too stunned by the ‘revelation’, Jun-ho doesn’t protest when he takes the cloth back. “Hyung! You knew I was a wizard and didn’t say anything?!” Thank Merlin that In-ho’s stomach is empty. Snot bubbles this early in the morning? Gag. “How did you find out?”

In-ho sighs, then braces himself for what he must do. Seriously, how does someone so small produce this much mucus? Should he cast a Scourgify and be done with it?... no, that might dry out Jun-ho’s skin. Hmm... decisions, decisions. He starts by gently wiping his brother’s face.

“Well, seeing as how our father was a wizard, and I am too, there was a pretty big chance you’d be one as well…” He curls his fingers around the back of Jun-ho’s head to keep him in place. “Yah, stay still, would you?”

“Hyung, I can do it myself!”

In-ho gently bats his brother’s hands away. “This is a job for a hyung.” He pokes the boy’s cheek. “I might have never taken care of a kid before, but I was top of my class at 'magic school'. So between my intelligence, determination, and resourcefulness, combined with you being one hell of a brilliant kid… don’t repeat that word until you’re eleven… we’ll figure this out, okay?” Jun-ho still looks unsure, but he nods, so there’s that. “And while you go upstairs to blow your nose and wash your face, hyung will make breakfast. Because that’s also his job as the hyung. You see how that works?”

“Eomma was older,” the little boy says, jutting his chin out, “but I made breakfast. So there.”

In-ho winces. Another pang of guilt. He hadn’t been around enough to notice how sick his stepmother was. After her death, In-ho learned she’d been diagnosed with some terminal Muggle illness two years earlier. And no one fucking told him. Not her, not their father, and definitely not Jun-ho, who had no idea anything was amiss either. Looking back, it explained the random letter In-ho received from his four-year-old brother. Did they think he would flat-out refuse to be involved in Jun-ho's life if he knew the kid was about to be down a parent? Clearly, they didn’t know the first thing about Hwang In-ho! No way he would ever let his baby brother grow up under their father's so-called care alone. Not when he knows exactly what that kind of loveless household feels like.

“Hyung is starting to think you don’t like his cooking.” In-ho pins his brother with The Look™, the one that’s known for making grown wizards cry. His six-year-old brother, however, is unfazed. “If you keep rolling your eyes like that, mister, they’re gonna get stuck in the back of your head. What will you do when you have to stare at your brain all the time, hmm?”

Jun-ho’s doe-eyes widen drastically. “That can happen?”

“Indeed,” In-ho nods solemnly. “So let’s pack away the sass for now, okay? After breakfast, how do you feel about seeing where hyung works?”

It’s a resounding yes, of course.

Chapter Text

In-ho had planned for Jun-ho to hold his hand as they make their way through the Korean Ministry of Magic. That’s how they do it at the shops. It's simple, effective, and unobtrusive. But the Ministry at peak hours is a different beast entirely. The Atrium is packed with witches and wizards bustling in every direction, robes swishing, spells being cast mid-stride, memos zooming overhead like enchanted hornets. It's organized chaos, and In-ho’s Auror-honed instincts flare with unease - too many bodies, too many moving parts, too many chances for something to go wrong.

Jun-ho could get trampled.

Lost.

Or worse...

Abducted.

Without warning, he scoops his brother up. In-ho expects protest. But Mister Independent surprises him. No squirming, no whining. Just wide eyes and a quiet grip around his neck… probably because the elevated view gives him a better vantage point to gawk at everything. But In-ho will take a win where he can get one.

Jun-ho’s running commentary; “That man’s hat is floating!” “Why is that owl wearing a tie?” “Hyung, is that a cranky old man or some magical being?” - ends with a question that hits harder than expected. “So you’re not a police officer, hyung?”

In-ho glances down to find devastation written across his brother’s face. It's like someone just told him Santa Claus is a fraud and birthdays are canceled indefinitely. “I’m an Auror,” he explains gently, “which is kind of like a police officer.” He adjusts Jun-ho’s weight on his hip. “I catch Dark Wizards and people who do bad things to magical folk, creatures, and Muggles.”

Jun-ho, who has to concentrate to pronounce his R’s without a lisp, tries to say the word. “Auror,” he murmurs carefully. “Auror. Auror.” It’s so disgustingly adorable, In-ho wants to squish his cheeks and coo. But since he has a reputation to uphold… and doesn’t want his brother to pitch a fit… he valiantly resists. “Whoa, that’s so cool! You're like a superhero!”

“You think so?” In-ho asks, feigning disinterest. Embarrassing to admit, but his brother's admiration feels good.

“Uh, duh! Is it harder than being a normal police officer?” Jun-ho asks. “Do you get scared sometimes? Can I be one too?” A commotion across the Atrium unexpectedly diverts his brother’s attention. “Hyung… are there fishies in that water people are throwing coins into?”

In-ho blinks. Right. The Wishing Fountain.

Oh fuck, the wishing fountain.

After passing by it nearly every day for years, he barely registers its presence anymore. But Jun-ho’s eyes are glued to the shimmering pool, where coins arc through the air and plop into the water with a soft splash. Beneath the surface, aquatic creatures swim lazily - miniature grindylows, gold-scaled koi, and a few water pixies to name a few.

“I highly doubt it,” In-ho says, trying to sound convincing.

Jun-ho frowns. “I hope not. What if someone accidentally hits a fishy?”

If only he knew some people make a game of trying to hit the creatures on purpose… oh Merlin, that’s precisely what those older kids are trying to do, isn’t it? 

Increasing the length of his stride, In-ho ducks into the lift before his brother figures out the truth for himself. A lone wizard stands inside, elderly and harmless-looking. He greets them with a cheerful, “Good morning.” Despite the man’s approachable nature, Jun-ho’s hold around In-ho’s neck tightens like a vice, nearly knocking the breath out of him. How does someone so small possess such terrifying strength? 

Jun-ho doesn’t relax again until they exit the lift on Level 2. During the trek to the Auror Headquarters, In-ho fields his brother’s rapid-fire questions with the efficiency of someone not afraid to tell a little white lie if necessary. He takes care to emphasize that if Jun-ho is serious about following in his footsteps, the path to becoming an Auror demands total commitment. First, he'll need to earn top marks in school. After Hogwarts comes Auror training, which is designed to test the limits of his physical endurance, mental resilience, and magical skill. But above all, Jun-ho must leave behind his current life of petty crime.

“Wait.” Jun-ho’s eyes narrow. “Hyungie, are you taking me to magic jail?!”

Damn, talk about a missed opportunity! That would’ve been fucking hilarious. 

“Maybe next time, squirt. Today we’re going to hyung’s office."

Even though the office itself is actually extremely boring, In-ho anticipated his brother’s excitement.

What he did NOT expect? His coworker’s excitement.

They swarm Jun-ho like bees to honey. It's as if he’s some mega-celebrity or a newborn unicorn, rather than a trembling six-year-old with a major case of Stranger Danger. If his death grip around In-ho's neck is anything to go by, Jun-ho does not take kindly to being fawned over.

"Yah!" The words slip out of In-ho's mouth before he can stop them. “Leave him alone before he explodes!”

He winces. Fuck, he shouldn’t have said that.

Technically, Jun-ho’s memory of the incident was wiped clean by a certified Obliviator. But the Forgetfulness Charm isn’t foolproof. The human brain is complex. Stubborn. Sometimes, it holds onto things it shouldn’t. And that’s a problem, because Jun-ho doesn’t need to remember finding his mother’s lifeless body. He doesn’t need to remember how grief detonated inside him, magic bursting out in all directions, collapsing the house he grew up in and nearly killing the teacher who’d driven him home. The Ministry repaired the structure. The teacher recovered. Both had their memories altered. But have they completely forgotten?

(In a twist of irony, In-ho only learned of his brother's situation so quickly because of that explosion. Jun-ho's Accidental Magic was powerful enough to trigger a cascade of alerts within the Ministry.)

His coworkers hurriedly back away from the six-year-old. The incident was a testament to how much raw magical power Jun-ho possesses. No one, In-ho included, wants to experience it firsthand. 

As if on cue, his brother inhales sharply, his eyes widening. Fuck, has he just remembered something he shouldn’t?!

“Down please." Jun-ho gives his older brother his version of The Look™, which screams, ‘Bend to my will, peasant.’ It’s oddly familiar, but for the life of him, In-ho can’t place it. When he doesn’t concede to the demand quickly enough, his brother starts wiggling like someone dropped a handful of salamanders down his pants.

“Merlin’s beard, alright! Stop squiggling around before I accidentally drop you.” In-ho carefully lowers his giggling brother to the ground (Jun-ho declares 'squiggling’ to be among the Top Five Greatest Words ever). “Stay in this office, okay? If you wander off, you’ll have a one-way ticket to wizard jail.”

The cheeky little shit salutes him with a, “Sir, yes, sir!” before skipping off. He weaves his way through the cubicles like he has a specific destination in mind.

Auror Jeong-rae, In-ho’s (former?) partner on the force, claps him on the shoulder. “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I actually miss seeing your sour mug every day.”

“You just miss my competence,” In-ho counters dryly, knowing he's right. 

From the grapevine (i.e. Hyeon, his best friend and colleague), he heard the older Auror has been ‘temporarily’ placed with a new partner. Although Kang Dae-ho is only a year younger than In-ho, it took him so long to make it through Auror Training, he’s still considered a rookie. That said, when it comes to dealing with people? The bumbling wizard is in a league of his own. He is freakishly good with victims, suspects, and getting valuable witnesses to cooperate.

Jeong-rae wearily rubs a hand over his face. “You have no idea how true that is. Once you and the munchkin get settled, please come back. If the boss gives you a hard time, I'll handle it.” He holds a hand up when In-ho grimaces. “No rush, of course. Take however long you need. But it’d be a damn shame to waste your potential, In-ho. Your talents can greatly benefit the wizarding world.”

A familiar gasp cuts through the moment. They exchange a look, equal parts exasperation and resignation.

“Auror In-ho, you’re back!” Dae-ho chirps, bounding over to them.

In-ho doesn't hate the guy, though he had taken some getting used to. Someone built like a grizzly bear should NOT exude golden retriever energy. It’s unsettling. Highly unsettling. Dae-ho isn’t even the youngest in their department!... and no, he isn’t referring to Jun-ho.

“Just visiting,” In-ho says coolly. “My brother wanted to see where his hyung works… worked.” Jeong-rae shoots him a disapproving glare that he pretends he doesn't see.

Dae-ho’s eyes light up. “Oh, little Jun-ho is here?" Standing on his tippy-toes - as if he's not already significantly taller than the cubicle dividers - he scans the office in search of the elusive six-year-old. "Can I meet him, please?”

In-ho is tempted to say yes. Mostly because, sunshine personality or not, there’s a high chance Jun-ho will be terrified of the mammoth Auror. And yes, In-ho is petty like that. It is what it is.

Jeong-rae steps in. “Maybe next time. We’ve got places to be, remember?”

With a final reminder that he’s only a Floo call away, Jeong-rae heads out, Dae-ho in tow. In-ho watches them go, feeling a weight in his stomach. His partner’s speech may have seemed insensitive, but it's nothing he hadn’t already thought in his own head. Is he really going to spend the next five years playing house until Jun-ho’s old enough for boarding school? He’ll lose his mind before the kid turns seven, never mind eleven!

Sigh.

One day at a time.

“You two doing alright?” Both Auror No-eul’s tone and expression indicates she highly doubts it. "From what I've heard, parenthood is a full-blown upheaval, even when planned."

They aren’t particularly close, but In-ho likes No-eul more than 95% of the other Aurors… and more than most people he knows, period. Still, he didn’t come here to bemoan about how his life got flipped upside down. He’s got a job to do.

“It’s different, but we’re adjusting… hey listen, could you keep an eye on Jun-ho for me, please? I need to pop over to a different department for a minute.” 

“Me?” 

Oh fuck. 

“I swear I’m not asking because you’re a witch," In-ho hastily backpedals. "I just trust you with my little brother significantly more than any of these other losers.”

His heart sinks when a shit-eating grin spreads across her once-expressionless face. “Looks like Little Hwang already found his babysitter.” In-ho follows her gaze, then almost smacks himself in the forehead. Of course Jun-ho would only overcome his shyness for one person. “They seem awfully familiar with one another. So I gotta ask… what in Merlin’s name possessed you to let Auror Hyeon around a child?”

In-ho pinches the bridge of his nose. “I was in a jam. I needed to clean out our ancestral estate before we moved in, but I hadn't told Jun-ho about the whole magic business yet. Hyeon was the only person I could think of with ample experience in the Muggle World that I somewhat trust... honestly, I figured they’d just ignore each other.”

To be fair, Park Hyeon probably tried to do exactly that. But something about the twenty-year-old piqued Jun-ho’s interest - and it wasn’t because he knew the man was his brother’s friend. In-ho only said Hyeon was a colleague from work. 

For a while, he regretted recruiting the younger Auror for babysitting duty. And not for the reason No-eul is insinuating.

His brother singing the praises of another hyung? It drives drove him barmy. The frustration got so bad once, In-ho nearly told Jun-ho that the same hyung he was gushing over spent over an hour complaining about being forced to babysit a 'snot-nosed brat’. But after a series of strange events, he realized his kid brother possessed a unique ability; Jun-ho could crack the cold, aloof Auror’s mask right open, turning In-ho's emotionally stunted best friend into someone unrecognizable. The same wizard who once scoffed that comic books were for babies (as if In-ho didn’t know about the massive collection hidden in his trunk), was now having screaming matches with a six-year-old about which ‘starter Pokémon had better stats' (whatever the fuck that meant) and delivering impassioned lectures on the unique abilities of each Sailor Scout (whoever the fuck they were).

“Look, hyung!” Practically vibrating with excitement, Jun-ho points at the other wizard, almost taking Hyeon’s eye out in the process.  “It’s Mister Salesman-hyung!” 

No one is stupid enough to poke their head above the cubicle. Not because Hyeon is unbeatable in a duel or anything. He’s just petty. Spectacularly petty. Getting on his bad side for something so frivolous isn’t worth the fuss. Even so, the room is suddenly filled with muffled snickering.

Hyeon glares at Jun-ho like they’re mortal enemies. “I TOLD you not to call me that!”

Mmm, isn’t he embarrassed to have beef with a six-year-old? If not, he should be!

“I don’t recall,” Jun-ho haughtily sniffs, lifting his nose in the air.

Aish, so that’s where his brother’s version of The Look™ comes from - his newest hyung. Fucking figures.

“You little liar!" Hyeon snaps. "I also vividly recall how after the third day in a row of me suffering through your company, we vowed to never see each other again. And yet, here you are!"

Benefit of being the boss’s favorite (or so he thought) - when In-ho needed someone to watch his brother while he cleaned out Hwangsil Hall, Hyeon conveniently had three days off in a row. With just a sprinkle of emotional manipulation and a pinch of bribery, his closest friend agreed to the 'burdensome' favor.

Jun-ho’s retort is instant. “My fingers were crossed, so it didn’t count as a promise.”

“Do you hear that, In-ho-hyung?” the younger Auror scoffs. “What sort of barbaric -”

“Mister Salesman-hyung, are you a wizard too?”

A vein in Hyeon’s forehead throbs. “Come here and find out, kid.”

Surprise, surprise, guess who attempts to do exactly that? For the love of Merlin, where are the self-preservation instincts?!

In-ho grabs his brother’s arm, holding him in place. “Aww, Hyeon, don’t be like that,” he purrs, ruffling his friend's meticulously gelled hair. “It’s such a fitting nickname!”

He immediately casts a wandless Shield Charm, modified to absorb the nasty hex Hyeon flings at him. Normally, he’d let it ricochet and laugh as his friend was forced to deal with his own spell, but parenting changes a wizard.

“It’s not a good nickname at all!” Under his breath, Hyeon then mutters, “But should I really expect a traitor to know any better?”

Vacating their shared apartment was the ultimate act of treason, a grievous betrayal so despicable, their friendship may never recover... at least in Park Hyeon's eyes. And look, In-ho gets that his friend loathes two of the other three wizards living there. But come on, what choice did he have?!

“As I’ve told you before, your obsession with wearing suits makes you look exactly like those men who go door-to-door selling things.” In-ho pinches Hyeon’s red Auror robes between his fingers. “And out of this entire department, who goes undercover the most? You’ve literally pretended to be a salesman multiple times.”

“The point is, hyung, unless you want the shrimp to mysteriously disappear -”

“SHRIMP?! I’M GONNA BE TALLER THAN YOU ONE DAY!"

In-ho lifts a finger to his lips. “Jun-ho, people are working."

“Yeah, Jun-ho,” Hyeon says mockingly, “people are working.”

Merlin, which one of them is six again?

Since it’s his civic duty to defend his brother, the older wizard scoffs, “Park Hyeon, I KNOW you aren’t making fun of someone for being short. At the age of eleven, you were the same height as Jun-ho is now!”

“I was NOT -”

Jun-ho's eyes light up. "See, I'm already beating you!"

Not one to crush a child’s hopes and dreams - at least when that child is his brother - In-ho refrains from pointing out how unlikely it is that Jun-ho will surpass Hyeon’s height… or even come close to it. The Hwang men aren’t exactly short. But Jun-ho’s inferior hyung? Freakishly tall. Like, obnoxiously so.

"Pardon, what was that?" Hyeon hums, blinking innocently at the six-year-old. "You want to get beaten?"

“If you don’t want to be in that apartment anymore," In-ho interjects, glaring at his friend, "there’s plenty of rooms in Hwangsil Hall.”

A part of him wants to take the offer back when his brother gasps, his expression radiating eagerness. Pathetic, he knows.

Thankfully, Hyeon furiously shakes his head. "Never," he says, hissing through his teeth. “I’d rather burn all of my suits... no, burn my beautiful body, than let those fuc-... jerks win.”

Rolling his eyes, In-ho flicks the other Auror in the forehead. So melodramatic. “Pride is a sin for a reason, but whatever.”

Despite being personally chosen by the pint-sized boss, Hyeon flat-out refuses his new assignment. But Head Auror Il-nam, after confirming that In-ho isn’t here to beg for his job back, tells him to suck it up. The big boss then takes it a step further, granting In-ho an hour to handle his business.

Jun-ho is over the moon to spend more time with his inferior hyung. When In-ho leaves the office, his brother doesn’t even glance back, too busy peppering Hyeon with questions and clinging to his every word like it's the gospel.

In-ho isn’t upset. He just doesn’t understand.

His brother is empathetic to a fault. He shuts down if he even thinks someone doesn’t like him. It’s nonsensical for Jun-ho to adore someone who openly antagonizes him. But In-ho isn’t about to complain... at least not aloud. With his brother content, he can run his errand without a tantrum or a trail of chaos left in his wake. Surely Jun-ho won't mind if he takes the full sixty minutes? Hell, he’ll probably throw a hissy fit if In-ho comes back early!

(Can six-year-olds even tell time? He should probably figure that out.)

Lo and behold, Il-nam must have cursed him.

From the moment In-ho steps into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, nothing goes right. If there’s one thing he despises about the Ministry, it’s their obsession with bureaucratic red tape.

In-ho slaps his palm against the Pest Advisory Bureau’s front desk. “What do you mean you can't remove a ghoul from someone's property unless it’s harmful?” he snaps. “It’s harming my sleep, does that not count for anything?!"

The wizard, who definitely has troll blood running through his veins, blinks at him. There is nothing happening behind those lifeless eyes, huh? “I’m sorry, Auror In-ho, but unless you’ve sold your house to a Muggle, or the ghoul is violent -”

"Do you people actually do anything, or do you exist solely to prove the existence of government waste?”

Suddenly, the floor rumbles.

It starts as a low vibration, then builds into a full-blown quake. Plaques rattle off the walls. Coffee sloshes over mugs. Papers take flight. An entire goblet tips over onto the front desk (courtesy of In-ho seizing an opportunity). Around the office, people cry out in alarm. Someone behind him lets out a string of swear words so vulgar, his ears redden. Some fifteen seconds later, the shaking abruptly stops.

There’s no logical explanation, but In-ho's instincts scream that something is wrong with his brother. Before he can decide how to proceed, a voice cuts in.

“Here." The creative-swear-word witch shoves a business card into his hand. “Send these guys an owl about your ghoul. They’re not useless like these bozos.”

Pocketing the business card, In-ho mutters his thanks, then storms out. Aurors only run when lives are at stake, but his stride is quick enough to draw stares. Forgoing the lift, In-ho skips down the stairs to Level 2. As soon as he exits the stairwell, his nose scrunches.

Smoke.

It billows out of the Auror’s office, curling into the corridor like a living thing. People in multicolored robes converse in small groups, many of them utilizing Bubblehead Charms to ensure a clean air supply. 

Heart hammering in his chest, In-ho roughly pushes through the crowd, making a beeline for the cluster of red-robed Aurors standing closest to the doorway. He spots his best friend first, though it's hard not to notice Hyeon. He's bent over at the waist, coughing violently. No-eul tries to press a goblet of water into his hands, but he waves her off… so she sweeps his legs out from under him and forces the liquid down his throat. Good. None of the other Aurors spare them a glance. Their eyes are locked on Head Auror Il-nam, who looks like he’s about to combust.

There’s no sign of Jun-ho.

Why is there no sign of his little brother?

“YOU’RE TELLING ME," the elderly wizard roars, spittle flying, "OUR COUNTRY’S MOST TRAINED WITCHES AND WIZARDS CAN’T USE A BASIC TRACKING SPELL TO FIND A SIX-YEAR-OLD?! WHICH ONE OF YOU IMBECILES IS GONNA TELL AUROR IN-HO THAT HIS BROTHER HAS DISAPPEARED TO MERLIN-ONLY-KNOWS-WHERE?!”

“I think you just did, sir,” Auror Woo-seok says quietly.

Silence falls.

“What. The. Fuck. Happened?!” In-ho growls, voice low and lethal.

Everyone's gazes drift to to Hyeon, who's being hauled back to his feet by No-eul. “It’s not my fault!” he wheezes, ringing his hands together. “Auror Deok-su -” 

Fuck, of course that pillock is involved. 

The only reason Jang Deok-su hasn't been fired yet is because his extensive knowledge of the Dark Arts is 'too valuable'. No one likes him, though some tolerate him better than others. In-ho is not one of those people. Deok-su’s bullshit doesn’t bother him personally, but the boor excels at getting under Hyeon’s skin. That bothers In-ho. Greatly.

“He started running his mouth, you know, the usual bullshit,” Hyeon rasps out. “Told the kid he’d always be a shrimp, just like his older brother. Said some other less nice things -”

“About Auror Hyeon, as well as you,” No-eul adds, sending In-ho a pointed look.

The younger Auror's cheeks pinken. "Mostly about you though, hyung." Given Hyeon's visible relief when his claim isn't disputed, In-ho knows which of his colleagues is being the most forthcoming... and it's not his best friend.

"And then?" In-ho prods.

"Then Deok-su reached out to push the kid’s shoulder. And the little savage… he bit him.” There’s a note of pride in Hyeon's voice. “Latched onto his hand like a feral beast and wouldn’t let go. Deok-su eventually shook him off, knocking him to the floor. When he pulled out his wand, the kid -” His hands move in some indecipherable gesture. “He screamed like he was being murdered. Violently murdered.”

No-eul takes over from there. “While he screamed, the floor shook like we were having an earthquake. Thick smoke filled the room. Once we realized it was impervious to all our counter charms, we evacuated into the hall. But no one could find the kid -” In-ho opens his mouth, but she quickly says, “We’ve gone back in multiple times looking for him. He’s not there.”

“He Apparated out!” some moron in the crowd proclaims.

In-ho scoffs, “Impossible. Not only because he’s six, but the Ministry's protective enchantments don’t allow -”

"There's no other viable explanation,” No-eul counters firmly, steadily meeting his gaze. “There were people in the doorway, he wouldn’t have been able to slip past them undetected. Additionally, none of our tracking spells work on him.”

Unable to resist any longer, In-ho starts pacing the narrow stretch of floor, hoping the movement might jolt loose an epiphany. Or at the very least, a clue about where to begin. This isn’t just bad. This is catastrophic.

Jun-ho Apparated.

Through an Anti-Disapparition Jinx.

At six-years-old.

“Maybe the Department of Mysteries can help?” Auror Woo-seok timidly suggests.

Everyone groans.

It’s a good idea, but nobody likes dealing with Unspeakables. They’re so bloody pretentious. Not to mention cryptic, condescending, and allergic to straight answers.

But In-ho doesn’t care. He heads for the lift, Hyeon close on his heels. For some mysterious reason, Unspeakables love Park Hyeon. The feeling is decidedly NOT mutual, but with any luck, they’ll be more inclined to assist if their favorite subject does the asking. Because if Jun-ho really did break through Ministry-level wards? They’re not just dealing with a lost child. They’re dealing with something much, much bigger.

"Maybe Baby Hwang unknowingly touched a Portkey somehow?" In-ho's ears suddenly prickle. When he whirls around, Hyeon recoils like he’s been slapped. Eyes wide and breath shallow, fear flickers across his face before he can mask it. The older wizard blinks. What the fuck kind of reaction is that? "Hyung, I... I'm truly sorry about losing your brother. I promise I'll do whatever it takes to find the -"

In-ho shushes him.

Could it be?...

A familiar voice echoes down the corridor.

“Then this jerk said, ‘Kid, those hyungs of yours only made it this far because they have no qualms about getting down on their knees for the boss’. Umm, s’cuse me, since when was bowing respectfully to your elders a bad thing? And when I said that, he PUSHED me! So then I, umm -”

A hacking cough rips through Jun-ho, cutting his words short.

“Easy, kiddo,” a deeper voice says, calm and steady. “Need some water?”

The pair round the corner. Relief floods In-ho’s chest so fast, it’s dizzying. He’s pretty sure Hyeon actually sheds a tear. Jun-ho is alive. Whole. Talking. Complaining. All signs point to normal. So focused on his sibling, In-ho's brain fails to register the tall, unfamiliar wizard, carrying him... no, not carrying. Levitating. His brother is suspended mid-air, floating at eye level with the stranger.

“No thanks, I’m fine. Just uhh, forgot what happened next.” Finally noticing them, Jun-ho perks up. “Oh, that’s my hyung! The one I told you about… and my new hyung too!... hi, hyungies!” His eyes flit to the swarm of people loitering outside the Auror office. “Erm… did something happen?” 

In-ho doesn’t answer. Snatching his brother out of the air, he clutches him tightly to his chest, a shudder running through his body at the contact. Fuck, he’s never letting Jun-ho out of his line of sight again!

“Hyung… can’t… breathe!” the six-year-old squeaks.

“Sorry, little one.” Pulling himself together, In-ho’s hands skim over the boy’s limbs, checking for injuries. He stiffens at the sight of dried blood on Jun-ho's chin. “Who hurt you?” he demands. “Are you hurt anywhere else? Did Deok-su do this?” He scans the crowd, looking for that familiar, punch-able face. “Where is he? I’d like a word.”

Lifting his fingers to his mouth (nail-biting is a telltale sign of guilt in Jun-ho, a voice in the back of In-ho's head reminds him), his brother doesn’t respond to any of his inquiries. 

“Deok-su was sent to Myeongdong Hospital," Auror Woo-seok reveals. "He was knocked unconscious when, uhh... you know."

In-ho raises an eyebrow. "Did everyone simultaneously forget how to cast the reviving charm?" 

"Tried. It didn't work," his friend says dismissively. "But in all fairness, he needed to go anyway. To ensure he didn’t contract any diseases after being bit by a feral child.”

Jun-ho’s cheeks flush. “I DID NOT DO THAT! Biting is wrong, and good little boys don’t do it, and since I am a good little boy -”

"Ooh, methinks someone is feeling guilty," Hyeon jeers. "Anything you'd like to confess, Mini Gremlin?"

"Nuh uh. You are putting dishonor on my name, and that's mean!"

The childish Auror crosses his arms over his chest. "I know this is a lot to ask of someone with such a tiny brain, but THINK for a second. Did I say you were the feral child who bit Auror Deok-su?" Jun-ho angrily opens his mouth, then slowly closes it. "No, I did not. So by responding defensively like that, you look suspicious. Extremely suspicious."

That is a... surprisingly good lesson? Huh.

"Makes sense." Jun-ho turns to his older brother. "I did not bite anyone, hyung." 

Before In-ho can call bullshit, Hyeon sniffs, "Shame. I thought it was cool. That bast-... jerk deserved it.”

Regret instantly flashes across Jun-ho’s face, but he’s smart enough to not incriminate himself. Placing his thumb on his brother's bottom lip, In-ho tugs downward… yep, as expected. “What do you think the chances are that your missing tooth is in Auror Deok-su’s hand?” he asks evenly.

Jun-ho eyes him warily. Calculating. In-ho wants to shake the truth out of him, demand he reveal the full story at once. But his sensible side marvels at how wise his little brother is. Too wise.

“Dunno,” the six-year-old says with a shrug that's probably meant to be casual, but instead comes across like some sort of involuntary muscle spasm.

Maybe he should shake Hyeon instead? Talk about a poorly timed lesson!

In-ho clicks his tongue. “Aish, what a shame. If we can’t retrieve it, the Tooth Fairy won’t come. So no money for you.”

“The Tooth Fairy is real?” the little boy squeals. In-ho nods solemnly. “Oh, well after thinkin’ about it, there’s a chance my tooth is with Auror Deok-su. Anything is possible, especially in the Magic World. We should check.” Reaching for his older brother’s hand, Jun-ho tugs with purpose. “Let’s go, hyung! Before they like, throw my tooth away... or worse, let that meanie have it! I know good boys are s’posed to share, but I won't with him, I won't!"

A laugh, unfamiliar but warm, cuts through the moment. In-ho finally turns his attention to the man who returned his brother.

And promptly forgets how to breathe.

Oh.

Oh.

Sweet Merlin have mercy!

In-ho thinks he might be in love?

That is… wow, that is a Wizard.

Lean frame, broad shoulders, muscles rippling beneath a robe that’s seen better days. Tall, so tall, In-ho has to tilt his head back like he’s trying to spot a Snitch in the rafters. Strong jaw, dusted with stubble. Dark, wavy hair that brushes his chin. And those eyes. Deep, amused, and entirely too captivating.

Then he smiles.

And In-ho’s brain stops working.

Yeah, definitely in love. Definitely.

In-ho now understands why Muggles devote their lives to worshipping angels and other divine beings, even without ever seeing them in person. Just one glance has turned his legs to jelly. With his dignity hanging by a thread, In-ho places a heavy hand on his brother’s shoulder, using him as a crutch. He will not collapse in front of this majestic being, he will not.

“Uhhh, thanks,” In-ho says, voice embarrassingly hoarse. His brain feels like molasses in the face of such ethereal beauty. “For returning Jun-ho from… wherever he was.”

The Wizard inclines his head. “No problem. Your boy is quite the little spitfire -”

“Oh, he’s not mine,” In-ho blurts, laughing awkwardly when Jun-ho mumbles, “Aww, the kids at school were right, weren’t they? I WAS found in a dumpster.” “Do I look old enough to be the father of a six-year-old?” he adds, trying to salvage the moment.

Hyeon clears his throat. “I mean, if we’re being honest -”

In-ho swings his leg back without so much as a glance. His heel connects with something solid. A muffled yelp follows, and Hyeon goes silent. Success.

The beautiful man smiles good-naturedly. “Sorry, I phrased that poorly. I can’t imagine a kid calling his father ‘hyung’.” Oh... duh. That makes sense. “But I caught him climbing that giant statue of -”

“Climbing DOWN, please be accurate!” Jun-ho interjects, stomping his foot. “In-ho-hyung, leaving the office wasn’t my fault, please don’t send me to magic jail!”

“Heh, why would I -”

“You said -”

For once in his life, Hyeon does something right. “Get on with the story, kid.”

“Auror Deok-su was being mean, so I closed my eyes, and then poof, there I was on the statue! I was trying to get down, not because I wanted a better look at the fishies swimming around, but because I knew I wasn’t s’posed to be there. That’s when Mister Gi-hun walked by and asked if I needed help.” In-ho nods like he understands. The only thing his brain retains is that the Angel Wizard’s name is Gi-hun. Gi-hun. Pretty name for a pretty man. “He made me fly, hyung, it was so cool. After you, he’s the most powerful wizard ever!”

No-eul elbows their youngest colleague. “Looks like you’ve been replaced.”

“Good.” Hyeon brushes invisible specks of dust off his robes, as if the fabric’s cleanliness is suddenly urgent. “I don’t need that kind of fake love in my life.”

“And yet it’s the only kind you'll ever get,” Auror Woo-seok quips, ducking behind Head Auror Il-nam to avoid retaliation.

Oh, Gi-hun even blushes prettily. “It was nothing, kiddo. Just a basic spell you’ll learn during your first year at Mahoutokoro.” The remark snaps In-ho out of his daze.

“Bless you,” Jun-ho says politely, drawing a ripple of laughter from the surrounding Aurors.

Confused, the Angel Wizard patiently explains, “Mahoutokoro is a school -”

“It’s Hogwarts, actually,” In-ho corrects, ignoring the collective groan and eye-rolls from most of his coworkers. “My brother will be attending Hogwarts. Like I did.”

He makes a mental note to start working with Jun-ho on learning the second language. His brother’s English vocabulary currently consists of, ‘bollocks’, ‘science’, and ‘fishies’. Not exactly academic material.

Hyeon scoffs, “Yah, what am I, chopped liver?”

“No, you’re just irrelevant to this discussion,” In-ho says truthfully.

Puffing up like a peacock, the attention-seeking Auror turns to his six-year-old nemesis. “I went there too, Baby Hwang. Just so you know.”

Jun-ho gives him a noncommittal thumbs-up. Then suddenly, his eyes brighten. He sidles over to Hyeon, all sweetness and charm. Which is not suspicious at all.

Most Korean wizarding children attend Mahoutokoro in Japan, or one of the smaller private academies scattered across the country. In-ho had been set to follow the same path as his parents, who were proud Mahoutokoro alumni. But as his eleventh birthday approached, he began noticing the cracks in his mother’s smile. Her frustration with their Ministry’s neutrality in the war against Voldemort was palpable. She was outspoken, passionate, and fiercely opposed to injustice of any kind. In-ho not only loved his mother more than anyone else in the world, he idolized her. He wanted to be just like her. A crime-fighting Auror. A hero.

One day out of the blue, it hit In-ho: she was staying in Korea for him. So he made a choice. While his father was out, In-ho proposed a compromise; he’d attend Hogwarts, so she could join the British Aurors fighting in the Wizarding War. His mother agreed. While his father accepted their decision, he refused to abandon his restaurant in Korea (the same restaurant he later sold when he married his second wife). Months later, In-ho left for Scotland. His mother left for London.

Everything was fine, until the last stretch of In-ho’s third year. During a Hogsmeade weekend, the quiet village was shattered by a sudden Death Eater raid. Amid the chaos, his mother was leading a group of terrified students to safety. A cloaked figure crept up and unleashed an emerald green spell at the lone Muggleborn among them. Without hesitation, his mother threw herself in front of the startled girl, dying a hero. Right before In-ho’s eyes.

In a moment of weakness, he made the mistake of mentioning to his grandmother that it was his fault his mother died. She chewed him out so thoroughly, In-ho was surprised his ears didn’t bleed. But the guilt never abated. It only hardened into resolve, a hatred for Dark Magic and all who practiced it. He vowed to wipe their kind off the map.

“Ah,” Gi-hun says, thoughtful. “That explains why I didn’t recognize you, even though we seem to be similar in age.”

Whelp. Another reason to regret not attending Mahoutokoro. He'd have met Gi-hun years ago! Even if they were sorted into different houses, In-ho would have wowed him with his physical prowess and innate Quidditch talent, not to mention his brilliant mind -

“Hyung is super old, so probably not.”

“I’m twenty-two!” In-ho cries over the sound of his colleague’s sniggers… his elderly boss even applauds his brother’s mean, untrue quip. Seriously, aren’t these lazy sods supposed to be working?! There’s still smoke billowing out of the office. “And you are grounded, mister!”

Bending down, Hyeon whispers something in Jun-ho’s ear. The little parrot then dutifully repeats, “I apologize, hyung. It was my mistake for not realizin’ you are overly sensitive about your advanced age.”

“Aish, I’m twenty-four,” Gi-hun says with a chuckle. “So I guess that makes me ancient, huh?”

“I’m six, and Hyeon-hyung is twenty, which is lots less than twenty-four.” Jun-ho grimaces. “So, yeah, sorry, Mister Gi-hun. But I think it does.”

“Drats.”

“But if you find my tooth, I’ll reconsider my ‘sessment.”

Head Auror Il-nam snorts. “Auror In-ho, why is your little brother more clever than half my team?”

“Good genes,” Gi-hun says, winking at In-ho, who thinks he might be having an out-of-body experience. Or a stroke. Could go either way.

“It’s my influence,” Hyeon snobbishly remarks, inspecting his nails with faux-nonchalance.

“He does sound a lot like you, I’ll give you that,” Head Auror Il-nam agrees. “But whereas the kid is charming and cute, you’re abrasive and unbearable to be around for any length of time.”

“Damn,” Woo-seok whistles. “Got ‘em.”

Before In-ho can come up with a witty response (he’s getting crushed out here!)... or Jun-ho can aggressively leap to the defense of his inferior hyung (which seems imminent, given the rumbling beneath their feet)... Gi-hun’s watch begins whistling. Glancing down down, he pushes his wild curls off his face with a harried sigh.

In-ho sighs too. Longingly.

Oh, to be blessed with the privilege of running his fingers through that silky hair!

“I need to head out,” Gi-hun says, already stepping back. “I’ve got an appointment with a witch who hates when I’m late.”

Appointment? What kind of appointment? What exactly are you doing with this witch? In-ho’s brain screams, but his mouth refuses to cooperate. Probably for the best, but gah!

Gi-hun crouches down to Jun-ho’s level. “You okay now, kiddo?”

Jun-ho nods. In-ho wants to cry. What about me? I’m not okay! The Angel Wizard is leaving and I haven’t even confessed my undying love!

“Thank you, Mister Gi-hun,” Jun-ho murmurs, suddenly shy. “For helping me find my hyungs. And making me fly. And agreeing with me about how it’s not right to keep those fishies in the fountain where people throw their money. I ‘preciate it. Also, I’m sorry for agreeing with you that you’re ancient. Even if you are, it was mean to say it outside of my brain.”

And how does the kind, warm, perfect Wizard respond? He gives Jun-ho a wide, beautiful smile and a lollipop. In-ho has never been jealous of a six-year-old, but there’s a first time for everything.

“I’m glad I could help. It was nice meeting you, Jun-ho.”

“You too!” Jun-ho glances over at his brother. “Right, hyung?”

“Yeah,” In-ho breathes, blinking rapidly when Gi-hun straightens up. Sooo tall. “Nice. Really nice.” Someone, probably No-eul, kicks the back of his shin. Reflexively, In-ho bows. Deeply. “Thank you for rescuing my brother again… I meant, thank you again, for rescuing my brother.”

The Wizard laughs bashfully. “None of that now. Anyone would have done it in my place. It was the decent thing to do.”

“You’d be surprised how uncommon that is,” In-ho says with full sincerity.

Most people would have ignored a little wizard in distress. Or abducted him. Which is rude, albeit understandable. Jun-ho is just so cute.

Gi-hun nods once, waves, then turns and walks away, curls bouncing, robe swishing, wholly unaware of the enthralling effect he has on the wizards and witches around him. To In-ho’s discontent, he isn’t the only one watching.

He should say something, anything -

Before turning the corner, Gi-hun glances over his shoulder. Jumping a meter in the air, In-ho swivels around, lest the older wizard think he was checking out his backside like some kind of perv.

He was looking respectfully!

Chapter Text

After having what the Muggles would call a ‘religious experience’, In-ho forgets all about the ghoul in the attic. Hell, he even forgets about what happened at the Ministry... well, the other major part… until Jun-ho trudges into the kitchen for dinner, head bowed like he’s approaching his execution. It takes two pinky swears to convince him that he won’t be punished, so long as he tells the truth (if In-ho makes it sound like he already knows what happened and just wants to hear Jun-ho’s side, it's totally an accident. He’d never purposefully mislead his sibling).

And crikey, it's a doozy alright.

The beginning matches what he already heard - Jun-ho was chatting with ‘Hyeon-hyung’ (In-ho sheds a tear at how much of a menace his brother is) when some ‘ugly jerk’ started saying mean things about his hyungs. Plural. Eventually, the ‘bully’ pushed him, so Jun-ho bit him without thinking. Then the ‘big bad man’ pulled his wand out, saying he was gonna teach him a lesson, yadayadayada. Jun-ho got so angry, he closed his eyes and screamed. Next thing he knew, he was on top of the shiny golden statue he’d been staring at when they entered the Ministry.

Before Jun-ho could spiral into panic, a ‘nice-looking man’ appeared - his brother’s words, though In-ho would argue ‘absurdly attractive’ was more accurate. The stranger asked if he needed help. Jun-ho, overwhelmed and teetering on a statue ledge, shyly admitted to In-ho that he’d been too scared to respond. But the man hadn’t taken offense. He’d introduced himself, explained the spell he could use to float Jun-ho safely to the ground, and waited for consent before casting it (Jun-ho enjoyed 'flying' so much, Gi-hun levitated him all the way to the Auror office).

In-ho is grateful. Truly. Gi-hun helped his brother in a way that didn’t add trauma to an already chaotic day.

But!

His brother, however, did not help him… him being In-ho, of course. The little gremlin didn’t ask the Angel Wizard a single useful question! Not where he worked. Not if he was single. Not if he liked men. Not even his last name. How is In-ho supposed to track down the love of his life without anything to go on? Especially now that he doesn’t have access to Auror resources! His options are bleak: sneak into the office (risky), Imperio someone to do the digging (illegal... if he gets caught), or, Merlin forbid, ask for help. Blegh. In-ho would rather be shipped off to Azkaban and spoon-fed despair by a Dementor than do that.

Meanwhile, Jun-ho is having the best day ever. Thanks to Hyeon’s heroic retrieval of his missing tooth from the unconscious Deok-su’s hand, he has something to tuck under his pillow for the Tooth Fairy.

And what does In-ho have?

Heartbreak. Despair. The crippling fear that Gi-hun, the Angel Wizard, will remain forever in his memory as the one who got away.

Oh, and he’s down a Galleon.

The next morning, In-ho’s rude awakening comes courtesy of the ghoul. Again. Feeling the overwhelming urge to commit murder every morning cannot be good for his blood pressure.

Enough is enough! 

He seats himself at the kitchen table, coffee in one hand, quill in the other. The kitchen is blissfully free of destructive six-year-olds. It should be a peaceful atmosphere, conducive to writing a letter. Yet it is not. Normally, once In-ho vacates his bedroom, the ghoul chills the fuck out. But today? It’s on a rampage. The racket is seismic. What the hell is it even doing up there to make such a ruckus? Tap dancing with trolls?!

Annoyed, In-ho stomps up the stairs, ready to duel the damn thing. When he passes Jun-ho’s door, the noise abruptly ceases. He slowly backs up, stomach flipping. Not a good sign. In-ho barges into the room without knocking. And thank Merlin he didn’t waste a single second!

There’s no ghoul.

Just Jun-ho standing on the window ledge, arms outstretched. The wind tousles his hair like he’s in the middle of a photoshoot for a broomstick ad.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” In-ho shrieks, his voice embarrassingly shrill. He does not care. His magic reacts instinctively, casting a Hover Charm that snatches Jun-ho before he goes SPLAT on the pavement.

Suspended in the air like some tiny-wizard shaped balloon, Jun-ho claps excitedly. Then because he's a menace, he does a front flip. “This, hyung! I wanted to fly again, it’s so much fun!”

“Fly?” In-ho repeats, heart hammering in his chest. Pardon the ever-loving fuck? “I didn’t know I was raising a bird.”

“Hyung, I’m a boy,” Jun-ho says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and In-ho is dumb for not knowing this. “But Mister Gi-hun made me fly using a simple spell, he said so, you heard him! So if I can do crazy things by accident, why can’t I do easy stuff on purpose?”

That’s solid logic, In-ho’s brain, traitorous as ever, whispers.

Adrenaline still flooding his system, he sinks to the floor, face buried in his hands. Salazar help him. This child is going to be the death of him!

After one long (probably useless) lecture about magical safety, gravity, and how flying is not for unsupervised six-year-olds, they make their way down to the kitchen. Jun-ho begs to cook breakfast. Desperately in need of a break, In-ho relents. But he watches his brother like a hawk, wand at the ready, prepared to extinguish any rogue flames or animate utensils that try to escape. While Jun-ho hums and cracks eggs with alarming confidence, In-ho finishes his letter to Banish & Vanish Pest Begone. The ghoul’s days are numbered.

The reply arrives quickly. It’s straightforward and efficient, two things In-ho approves of. But it’s also unsigned, which he finds unprofessional. Who sends an appointment confirmation without a name? Serial killers, probably. Or people who don’t understand the importance of proper correspondence etiquette. Both options are distasteful.

Still, the appointment is set for 1:00 p.m. that afternoon.

To prepare, In-ho tricks his brother into cleaning up by turning it into a game. “Whoever puts away the most toys and books gets the last chocolate frog!” Taking the bait, Jun-ho dives into the task with the enthusiasm of a Quidditch Seeker chasing a Snitch during a rivalry match.

By 12:50, the house is as presentable as it can possibly be given their current predicament. In-ho positions himself near the front window, pretending to read a book. As the appointment time creeps closer, there’s no trill from the wards. No shimmer of magic. No sign of anyone approaching.

Ten minutes pass.

Still nothing.

At twelve minutes past one, Jun-ho starts side-eyeing him. Fair enough. It’s hard to ignore the way In-ho’s foot is tapping out a frantic rhythm of rising impatience. But surely he’s not the only person who adheres to a strict code of punctuality? Or maybe he is. Maybe that’s why he’s still single.

At 1:17, the wards trill. Fucking finally. Clearly, the folks at Banish & Vanish Pest Begone have no regard for their client’s time. And In-ho is going to tell this so-called exterminator PRECISELY how he feels about that... in explicit detail!

He throws open the door, ready to unleash a cutting remark.

And promptly chokes on his own spit.

There’s an angel on his doorstep.

“Oh,” Gi-hun says, eyes wide. A soft pink blush blooms across his cheeks. In-ho's mouth goes dry. There’s a smudge of dirt on the older man's nose, which somehow makes him look even more perfect. “It’s you. We meet again. Hi." He clears his throat. "Ahem... hello.”

“It’s me,” In-ho echoes, breathless. 

He stands there, frozen, just staring. Respectfully, of course. Admiring would be a better term. In-ho is respectfully admiring the pretty man on his doorstep.

“I’m Gi-hun -“

“I know,” he blurts out, then immediately regrets it. Now Gi-hun is the one staring. Expectantly. Is he waiting for a… a kiss, perhaps? A marriage proposal? Oh, wait. “I’m In-ho… which you already know, heh. Cuz I sign my letters.” Nonono, that sounds like a dig! “Though not everyone does, which is okay,” he backpedals. “I respect individual preferences, even the rude ones.”

“Good to hear,” Gi-hun says with an easy-going laugh. He seems unoffended by the back-to-back social gaffes. Hopefully it’s the truth. But if it isn't, In-ho has no qualms about dropping to his knees and begging for -... you know what? Not the time to go there. “I’m sorry for being late -”

In-ho waves away the useless apology. “I'm not uptight. You can come whenever you'd like.” His face heats at the unintentional innuendo. Why is this happening to him?! “If you want, that is. Whenever you want to come,” stop saying that Merlin-forsaken word, “is perfectly alright by me."

Gi-hun lowers his head in a respectful nod. Beautiful, polite, and good with kids? Merlin really does have favorites, huh?

“Thank you. I’m here about -”

It suddenly occurs to In-ho that the older wizard was forced to brave the jungle of overgrown weeds to reach the front door… fuck. Not a good first impression.

“Sorry about the mess,” he cuts in, gesturing to the front garden. “We just moved in.” Wait, that sounds like… "We as in my brother and I. No one else. It’s just the two of us. Because his mother died. And I’m single. Very single. Which is why I had to move out of my last apartment. Too small, not good for kids. Our ancestral home was the best option. But no one has lived here in a long time, hence the mess. I would never live like this normally... though if you do, that's totally okay!”

Shut up, shut up, shut up, In-ho screams in his head.

Hwang In-ho is not a rambler. He’s composed. Confident. Controlled... except when faced with a man whose mere existence flusters him, apparently.

The Wizard frowns, oh no. “I’m sorry to hear that. Losing a parent is hard, even as an adult. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for someone as young as Jun-ho to lose his mother.”

“I was fourteen,” In-ho says, like having a dead mother is an accomplishment or badge of honor. He can practically hear his mom’s cackling laughter in the back of his head. In-ho, however, doesn’t share the amusement, stupid, stupid, stupid… be cool! “Erm, anyway, so you’re here about the -”

“HYUNG, what’re you doin’?”

Fuck.

In his haste to rid himself of his unwanted alarm clock, In-ho didn’t fully think things through. He shoots an apologetic look at Gi-hun before shouting back, “Talking to a nice wizard about, uhh…” thinkthinkthink, “painting some murals once we finish cleaning the house out! Possibly. We’ll see how, uhh… expensive it is.”

Without missing a beat, Gi-hun shrinks his briefcase and slips it into his pocket. “You might rethink that once you see the quality of my artwork,” he murmurs, lips twitching. Although he has no explanation for why In-ho just lied to his brother, he's still willing to play along. 

In-ho falls further in love.

“Guess you’ll have to stop by again with some samples, huh?”

Finally, a coherent sentence. Yay! Pushing his luck, In-ho leans against the doorframe, aiming for suave + a hint of mysteriousness. Lo and behold, he misses the mark... not just ‘suave and mysterious’. In-ho misses the doorframe entirely, nearly toppling sideways.

Gi-hun doesn’t laugh. He looks concerned. Because of course he does. He’s perfect. “Are you okay -”

In-ho hurriedly changes the subject. “My brother is rather… attached to the ghoul. He spends a lot of time beneath the door leading to the attic playing with his toys and coloring. Says they’re ‘hanging out’.” The Wizard’s face softens, like he thinks that’s sweet. And fine, it is sweet. But it also makes In-ho a monster for covertly arranging the removal of his little brother’s pet. “The blasted thing is driving me insane though. It needs to disappear quietly -”

“MISTER GI-HUN!” 

So much for quiet.

This may not have been one of In-ho’s finer ideas. 

He shouldn’t allow anyone to see their house like this, let alone someone of divine origins. But how was In-ho supposed to know he'd end up escorting the most beautiful man to ever live through the dusty, cluttered, questionably hygienic halls of his ancestral estate? The portraits of long-dead relatives watch with silent, well-deserved judgment, though they keep their commentary to themselves. Last week, In-ho threatened to incinerate them if they spoke or moved whenever Jun-ho was around. Their constant squabbling, belittling comments, and frequent movement not only upset the youngest Hwang, they gave him nightmares!

As if In-ho needed additional proof of how flawless Gi-hun is, he takes everything in stride. To maintain his cover, he even jots down ‘notes’ as they move from room to room. Unsurprisingly, Jun-ho plasters himself to the older wizard's side. Attempting to subtly shoo him away is an exercise in futility. His brother ignores every single hint to scram. In-ho finally gives up when he catches Gi-hun grinning at his last spectacularly failed effort.

Holding onto Gi-hun’s sleeve, Jun-ho skips along, chattering away about mural ideas. Sea dragons. Pirate ships. Unicorns in meadows. Vampires and werewolves playing under the moonlight. They’ve never discussed painting anything but solid colors, yet Jun-ho is overflowing with Ideas. In-ho sighs. He’s going to have to hire a real artist, isn't he? The thought of his brother being disappointed when none of his suggestions come to fruition is too painful to bear.

On the third floor, they stop outside Jun-ho’s bedroom door. Despite the mansion’s size, the ‘grand tour’ lasts a total of five minutes. In-ho mentally laments himself for not working faster to clean out the remaining three-fourths of the house. Is safety really that big of a deal?

“Do you mind if I use the restroom?” Gi-hun asks, the tips of his ears reddening when In-ho silently stares at him. His brain stops working when he looks at the Wizard directly, okay? It’s not his fault! He's only human.

Jun-ho eagerly volunteers to escort him to the ‘safe’ one. But after the two older men covertly exchange a side-eyed glance, In-ho shakes his head. “Mister Gi-hun is a big boy, little one. He can find it himself.”

“What if the house tries to eat him?” Jun-ho asks worriedly.

… okay, apparently he needs to be more judicious with his bedtime stories. Good to know.

In-ho raises his gaze to the ceiling. “Our ancestral estate only eats bad people. It wouldn’t dare harm a welcome guest.” He swears the candles illuminating the hallway flicker in response. But it’s equally possible he blinks too hard.

Not fully convinced, Jun-ho turns to the older wizard and murmurs a warning to be careful “just in case.”

“In the meantime,” In-ho says, mentally applauding himself for previously slipping in a discreet mention of how to access the attic, “let’s double-check that your room is tidy enough to have guests, okay?”

Before departing, Gi-hun throws him a sly wink. Coincidentally, In-ho stumbles while entering his brother’s room. And since he is a horrible, no good, very bad person, he ‘chastises’ Jun-ho for leaving toys on the floor. In-ho then feels ten times worse when his brother promptly apologizes…

Because there is nothing on the floor that shouldn’t be.

“Mister Gi-hun is nice.” Jun-ho stares pointedly at In-ho, like he’s trying to transmit a secret message telepathically. Sadly, it does not work. “Super nice. And fun! I like him lots -"

“It’s ‘a lot’, not ‘lots’,” In-ho corrects automatically. Having no desire to get into a pissing match with a six-year-old while the love of his life is under the same roof, he doesn’t call out the sassy brat for rolling his eyes. 

“I like Mister Gi-hun a lot. It’s so cool that he’s an artist.”

In-ho makes a noncommittal noise. And then because he’s a bit of a shit-starter (and genuinely curious), he asks, “Do you like Mister Gi-hun more than your Hyeon-hyung?”

Jun-ho freezes for nearly thirty seconds. It's like he was just handed the most difficult question in the universe. “As of now,” he says slowly, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve, “no, I do not. But you like him more than Hyeon-hyung.” In-ho decides he is not obligated to confirm or deny his brother’s theory. Because he’s an adult. Totally. “Which I guess doesn’t say much.”

“Don’t let Hyeon hear you say that,” In-ho teases. “He’ll have a hippogriff.” His brother’s eyes widen. “Not literally. It’s a figure of speech, similar to ‘having a cow’. It means he’ll make a big deal out of it, in an unhappy way. He’s dramatic like that.”

“No, he’s not!”

Aish, that’s right. How could he forget his brother is Team Hyeon-hyung now?

“He is, little prince, and one day, you will see the light.”

“Nuh uh. Listen, hyung, I will try to explain.” Sitting on the edge of his bed, Jun-ho pats the space next to him. In-ho, of course, obeys the silent command. “Okay. So for Hyeon-hyung, you’re his only hyung, right? And he was your only dongsaeng, for like ever and ever."

In-ho frowns. "I feel like you're calling me old again."

"But now," the little shit continues, ignoring his interruption, "you have another dongsaeng. And soon, you might have your own hyung.” Phew, if only! He’s glad his brother sees the vision though. “But Hyeon-hyung doesn’t have anyone else -”

“What about you?”

“Hyung, I’m six, I don’t count!” Jeez, okay, how dare In-ho try to be accurate, huh? “But do you see why he’d have a hipp’grif now?”

“Hippogriff.” In-ho blinks. “And no, I don’t. People are allowed to have other friends, Jun-ho.” 

And boyfriends. 

Maybe even a husband one day, if they’re lucky!

Being stared down by his brother is highly unnerving, what the fuck? “It’s not about sharing, hyung,” Jun-ho argues. “He feels forgotten. Unwanted. Replaced!”

“Did he tell you that?”

In-ho already knows the answer. There’s no way on Merlin’s green Earth that his emotionally stunted best friend shared his problems with his six-year-old nemesis…

Though it would explain why the insanely intelligent Park Hyeon’s nemesis is a six-year-old, wouldn’t it?

His sweet little brother doesn’t even try to lie. “Not directly, but hyung, it’s so obvious. How could you not see it?!"

Good news! Being shamed by a six-year-old is a hundred times worse than being stared down by one.

Unsure how to respond, In-ho defaults to a vague, professional answer. “Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention, little one. I will reflect on this discussion, and if I find myself in agreement with your assessment, I will modify my behavior accordingly. Fair?”

After shaking his hand, Jun-ho changes the subject so fast, it gives In-ho whiplash. “Ya know, I swear Mister Gi-hun mentioned something about working with magical creatures.” 

Wait, what?! That was not what he said when In-ho was interrogating fishing for information yesterday!

He feigns nonchalance. “Maybe he said he primarily paints creatures? Either that, or he worked with them in a past job.”

In-ho breathes an internal sigh of relief when Jun-ho snaps his fingers and says, “Might have been that, yeah.”

To the brothers’ mutual disappointment, Gi-hun leaves right after ‘using the restroom’. His reasoning? He received an emergency Patronus message about an ill friend. 

Escorting him to the front door, In-ho casually asks how much the consultation is. But Gi-hun says it’s on the house. He protests this, of course, though with Jun-ho so close by, he can’t argue as much as he wants to. The older wizard assures him it’s fine, he ‘hardly did anything’ and got to ‘enjoy good company at the same time’. For a fleeting moment, In-ho thinks he’s flirting with him, but then the older man squats down to Jun-ho’s level.

Before he can say anything, the six-year-old darts forward and wraps his arms around Gi-hun’s neck. In-ho is genuinely too surprised to be jealous. Retreating to hide behind his big brother, Jun-ho shyly peeks around his leg. “Bye bye, Mister Gi-hun.”

“Promise me you’ll be good for your hyung?”

“I promise to try my best,” the little boy says solemnly.

Giving Jun-ho one last bright laugh, Gi-hun rises to his feet. The two older wizards lock eyes. Again, In-ho feels like he should say something. Maybe he could ask if Gi-hun is free this weekend for a date? Or he could just get straight to the point and ask for the man's hand in marriage? Nothing too crazy. But the charged moment is broken by the tiniest of sniffles. Eye glittering with unshed tears, Jun-ho looks like he’s on the precipice of a breakdown - understandable, In-ho shares the same sentiment. But then it dawns on him how utterly fucked he’d be if his brother realizes his beloved ghoul is in Gi-hun’s pocket. Hurriedly thanking the older man, In-ho closes the door before Jun-ho’s self-control splinters.

It only delays the inevitable.