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edenesth · 8 months ago

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ATEEZ as Hogwarts Students

Pairing(s): hogwarts student!ateez x hogwarts student!reader

Word Count: 9.8k

A/N: Oh my gosh, thank you all so much for helping me reach 2.3k followers! To celebrate this, I'm back again with another one of these! Once again, special thanks to my one and only, my pookie, @itstheghostofmypast, for helping me confirm which houses some of the members should be in💘

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

Hongjoong ↠ Gryffindor

The Poor Prefect That Nobody Takes Seriously

"I swear to god, if I see another damn chocolate frog loose in the dorm, I'll—" Before Hongjoong could even finish, a cheeky first-year passing by stuck his tongue out at him. "What are you gonna do? Run off to cry to Professor McGonagall again?"

The seventh-year's jaw dropped, his blood pressure spiking, but the kid was gone before he could even scold him. Two years—he'd been a prefect for almost two years now, and still, no one ever took him seriously. Thinking back to his early days as an optimistic prefect, eager to bring order and discipline to his rowdy housemates, he knew now how impossible that dream was.

But was he going to stop trying?

Not a damn chance.

Hongjoong had chosen to become a prefect the very moment he was eligible in his fifth year. Professors had always praised him as reliable, a natural-born leader, and he'd believed that wholeheartedly. He'd pictured himself bringing order to his dormitory, respected by his housemates for his efforts to keep things in line. But the reality? Gryffindors, as he was learning, could be a lot harder to control than he ever expected.

Unfortunately, his "small but mighty" reputation didn't exactly translate into authority. He'd start off with a firm tone, reminding them of the rules, only to watch them twist his words into a rallying cry for their next scheme. His attempts at seriousness somehow only fueled their chaotic Gryffindor spirits, making him seem more like a mascot for daring antics than a figure of discipline.

While the academic staff continued to commend his commitment, his classmates saw him as the "cool" prefect—the one who'd cover for them more often than not, a little too forgiving to actually be feared. Some nights, he'd even find himself dragged into the very pranks he was supposed to be preventing, swept up by the contagious energy of his friends.

Despite everything, Hongjoong couldn't bring himself to truly give up. Every morning, he'd tell himself that today was the day he'd put his foot down, that he'd be the prefect his professors always said he could be. He knew the odds weren't in his favour, but in true Gryffindor fashion, he wasn't about to back down from the challenge.

Today's the day—I can feel it in my bones.

Letting out a determined breath, Hongjoong's gaze fixed on the notice board, now littered with doodles, silly notes, and questionable "decorations." With a purposeful nod, he crossed his arms and cleared his throat, catching the attention of the Gryffindors lounging around the common room. "Forget the frogs then. How many times have I told you all not to vandalise the notice board with your nonsense? It's used solely for—"

"For important announcements. Yes, we get it," piped up a cheeky third-year, eyes glinting with mischief. "But there are no announcements at the moment, so is it really so bad if we, y'know, decorate a little?"

And there it was again—the quick responses that left him speechless every time. Hongjoong tried to keep his expression stern, but a tiny part of him could almost see their point. Was it so bad to have a bit of fun? No, he reminded himself, that's not the point. But as he felt his resolve waver, he knew a miracle wasn't going to happen today. Why couldn't he be both firm and likeable, just like—

"Oh, so you want to test if it's bad?" your voice cut through, sharp but calm, as you stepped down from the spiral staircase. You'd been listening long enough to hear their usual defiance, and you were not about to let them undermine your boyfriend's authority. "How about we invite the professors to take a look at your 'artwork' and see how much they'd appreciate it, hm?"

Like you.

Hongjoong released a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, grateful for your support. You, with your knack for balancing authority and approachability, were everything he wished he could be as a prefect. If he could just learn how to be firm, like you, maybe Gryffindor's antics would finally come under control.

"You heard her," he added, finding a bit of confidence again as he nodded in agreement. "Clean it up. Now."

The students exchanged glances, sighing as they reluctantly began peeling off the doodles. He couldn't help but grin a little as he glanced your way.

"Thanks, babe," he mouthed.

You shook your head, smiling as you nodded toward the remaining Gryffindors lounging around. "I'm heading to the Great Hall first. I'll leave it to you to get everyone to breakfast on time, Joong. Think you can handle it?"

Hongjoong nodded enthusiastically, eager to make you proud. "You bet. They're going to see a whole new Prefect Kim this year," he declared confidently.

You laughed, both amused and a bit sceptical. He'd nearly caved to their antics just moments ago, but that was part of his charm. You loved how different he was from you—how he helped you loosen up when you were too serious, just as you helped him stay firm when he got a little too lenient. Together, you two were like yin and yang, balanced and perfectly matched, as everyone in the house always teased.

Squeezing his hand, you gave him a playful smile. "Show 'em, tiger," you winked before turning to leave, catching a glimpse of his cheeks turning pink.

The moment you were out of sight, the common room burst into whistles and smirks around him. Snapping out of his trance, your boyfriend rolled his eyes, trying to keep his composure.

"Alright, folks," he called out, clapping his hands. "You heard my girl. Let's cooperate for once and head to the Great Hall on time—don't make me disappoint her!"

The Gryffindors grinned, shuffling toward the door without a fuss, eager to play along. He smirked, pleased with their obedience whenever you were mentioned. Maybe he'd always need your presence to keep this difficult crowd in line, but he didn't mind at all. He knew they didn't have to fear him for him to be a good prefect. Deep down, he knew they all adored him, and he was pretty sure that, rule-breaking aside, they wouldn't truly make things difficult for him. They just loved teasing him—because, honestly, he might just be their favourite prefect.

Seonghwa ↠ Hufflepuff

The Goody Two Shoes and Teacher's Pet

"Oh, Seonghwa, my boy! What brings you here on a weekend? Shouldn't you be off enjoying Hogsmeade with your girlfriend?" Professor Sprout asked, pleasantly surprised as her star student stepped into the greenhouse, notebook in hand. The seventh-year smiled brightly, giving her a respectful nod before approaching.

"Good afternoon, Professor! I just came by to check on my mandrake—I'm determined to cultivate one to maturity for my latest Restorative Draught. And, uh… my girlfriend, she'll be here to join me soon," he added, rubbing the back of his neck, cheeks turning pink at the mention of you.

Professor Sprout's expression softened, a smile touching her lips. "You're too hard working for your own good, both of you," she gently chided, pride swelling as she glanced at the Hufflepuff sigil pinned proudly on his denim jacket. Even on a day when house representation wasn't required, Park Seonghwa wore his Hufflepuff loyalty openly, reminding everyone where his heart belonged. She knew he had a bright future ahead, and if she were to ever consider early retirement, he would be her top choice to take over as the next Herbology professor.

As if on cue, you pushed open the greenhouse doors and stepped inside. "Hwa, are you here already?" you called, glancing around before your eyes landed on your boyfriend and Professor Sprout.

Seonghwa, who'd been focused on his mandrake, looked up at the sound of your voice, a soft smile lighting up his face. In the presence of authority, he resisted the urge to rush over and hug you, his restraint both endearing and unmistakable. You bit back a laugh, amused by his adorable attempt at composure.

"Oh! Good afternoon, Professor!" you greeted, nodding respectfully. "Are we disturbing you? We can come another day if you need the greenhouse for your work."

She smiled warmly, waving off your concern. "Not at all, dearie. I was just on my way out. You two enjoy your little date," she added with a knowing wink. "And if you're in the mood for a treat, there are some extra Every Flavour Beans on the top shelf—please help yourselves."

"Thank you, Professor!" you and Seonghwa chimed in unison, exchanging a look of warmth and shared gratitude. As the elderly woman left, he gently took your hand, pulling you close enough to place a soft kiss on your forehead. You leaned into him with a contented sigh. "How embarrassing—now she's certain we're dating," you murmured, unable to hide your own smile.

He chuckled, his eyes dancing with affection. "Is that such a terrible thing, love? Maybe it's time the whole world knows you're mine."

You gasped in mock scandal, playfully nudging his shoulder. "How improper," you laughed, but a blush crept into your cheeks. Though you'd never formally announced your relationship, it was hardly a secret—everyone must have guessed by now with all the time you spent together. But for the sake of his reputation as the model student, you'd both kept things understated, not feeling the need to broadcast your love. Now, though, there was a new spark in his eyes, a hint of the Slytherin heritage running through his veins, as if he suddenly wanted the world to see what his heart had always known.

Seonghwa, after all, was the first Hufflepuff in a long line of Ravenclaws and Slytherins—a surprise his family hadn't quite anticipated. But their surprise had never bothered him. Instead, it had only strengthened his resolve to prove that Hufflepuff was as noble and worthy as any other house. Consistently at the top of his class in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, he'd gained the admiration of professors for his quiet dedication and high moral standards. Always the first to lend a hand to new students or submit his assignments, he was as dependable as they came.

Yet as much as he wanted to honour his house and his achievements, his heart now longed for something deeper. For the first time, he wanted his family—and everyone else—to see you, the one who had believed in him through every challenge and celebrated every victory, who had loved him exactly as he was. He knew that letting you into his life so openly would be the proudest badge he could ever wear.

"So," he began, biting his lip as he shifted his focus from the mandrake to you, who was busily jotting down notes about its latest growth. "Should we spend some time in Hogsmeade after this?" His voice was soft, almost hesitant, and your eyes widened slightly, your actions faltering as you locked gazes with him.

"You're joking, right? All our friends are there—" you started, but he shook his head, his expression earnest. "I'm serious, love."

The weight of his words sank in, and you realised he wasn't joking at all. A rush of emotions washed over you. "I... I don't know why it took me so long, but I don't want to hide my feelings for you anymore. I want to openly show my affection and be like every other couple in school. It's already our seventh year, and we haven't even been on a proper date. Can we make this the first of many more? Would you like to... go on a date with me?"

Placing your pen down, you blinked, your heart racing at his sincere proposal. This was a big step. Once the truth was out in the open, there would be no turning back—everyone, including his family, would know about you two. But as you looked into his eyes, you felt a rush of warmth. If he was ready for it, then so were you. You knew he would always protect you, no matter what.

With a shy smile, you nodded, feeling butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Thought you'd never ask."

His face broke into a radiant grin, and the world around you seemed to melt away. Seonghwa stepped closer, allowing your head to rest against his shoulder, enveloped in the warmth of his presence like a cosy blanket. "I can't wait," he murmured softly.

"Me too," you replied, a wave of excitement bubbling in your chest.

In that greenhouse, surrounded by vibrant plants and warm sunlight, you both felt the first tender blooms of something beautiful—a love that was finally ready to thrive in the open, with all the joy and light that came with it.

Yunho ↠ Hufflepuff

The Popular Triwizard Champion

"Well? Have you managed to figure out the next task, golden boy?"

Yunho's head snapped around at the sound of your voice, his wide eyes betraying his surprise. Before he could respond, a few stray water droplets from his damp hair splashed onto you, drawing a squeal from your lips.

"Oh no! Angel, I'm so sorry!" he stammered, hastily brushing at your sleeve, his genuine concern making you laugh. He held the golden egg tightly, now safely shut after his latest round of inspections. "But seriously, what are you doing here? You'll be in trouble if anyone finds you sneaking into the prefect's bathroom!"

You snorted, though your heart melted at the way his brows knitted with worry. "Well, I could say the same for you, Yuyu. You're not a prefect either," you quipped with a grin.

He chuckled, the sound echoing in the steamy room as he swam closer to where you sat at the edge of the bath, your legs lazily dangling in the water. Gently, he set the golden egg beside you, then rested his arms on your thighs, gazing up at you with a playful smirk.

"The difference is, I'm a Triwizard Champion," he teased, his grin widening, "and you're not."

Rolling your eyes, you booped his nose with a finger, earning a soft laugh from him. "True, I'm not," you replied, sticking your tongue out cheekily. "But I am your girlfriend, so that grants me a special privilege, doesn't it?"

Yunho's gaze softened as he beamed up at you, water glistening on his face like tiny jewels. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice warm and affectionate. "It definitely does."

With a tender smile, you reached out to brush the water from his face, gently pushing his damp hair back from his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat when he instinctively leaned into your touch, his warmth grounding you despite the growing tension in your chest.

"You haven't answered me yet," you reminded him softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Have you figured out the answer to the second task?"

He nodded, his hand lifting to cover yours on his cheek, holding it in place as though it anchored him. He gave your fingers a soft, reassuring squeeze. "I have," he murmured, his gaze meeting yours with a quiet intensity. "But... I don't want you to freak out. Everything's going to be okay, I promise."

Despite his comforting tone, the knot in your stomach tightened. You tried to mask it with a cheeky smile, nudging him lightly with your foot in the water. "Suuure, Yuyu. I totally believe you when you say these tasks will get easier. I mean, it's not like the first one involved dragons or anything."

Your boyfriend sighed, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. You knew he was thinking about the moment his name had been announced as the Hogwarts champion—the wave of fear that had gripped you as the Great Hall erupted in cheers.

He had submitted his name on a whim, more as a joke than anything. He hadn't thought for a second he'd actually be chosen. But of course, you should've known better. He was Jung Yunho—the school's golden boy. Everyone adored him, from his endless optimism to his natural charm. He could light up any room he walked into and never turned away anyone in need. His wild card selection had shocked everyone, but he had embraced it with the same unshakable enthusiasm he brought to everything in life.

For him, the Triwizard Tournament was an adventure, a chance to make memories and new friends. For you, it was a constant worry. You knew the dangers far too well, and it terrified you. Still, when he had emerged victorious after the first task, his joy had been contagious, and you told yourself you had to let your fear go. You couldn't hold him back from greatness. He needed your support, and you were determined to be the girlfriend he deserved.

Leaning forward, you pressed a quick kiss to his lips, hoping it would reassure him as much as it did you. "Alright," you whispered, brushing your thumb along his jaw. "So tell me. What's the second task?"

Before you could pull away, he held onto you, wrapping an arm around your waist and resting his forehead against yours. His voice softened, steady but laced with a vulnerability he rarely showed.

"The Black Lake," he said quietly. "I... I have a feeling I'm going to need you to get through this task."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, but the conviction in his eyes made you hold your ground. Whatever this task demanded, you knew one thing for sure: you'd face it together.

And his predictions couldn't have been more accurate—he and the champions from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons had an hour to retrieve something that had been stolen from them from the merpeople's village beneath the Black Lake.

The lake was eerily silent, its surface shimmering under the overcast sky as Yunho broke through the water, gasping for air. His strong arms cradled you protectively, his chest rising and falling in rapid bursts. The tension that had gripped him since the start of the task finally began to ease now that you were safe in his embrace.

You coughed violently, expelling the icy water from your lungs, your breaths coming in sharp, shallow bursts. The fragments of what had happened began piecing themselves together in your mind—the haunting stillness of the underwater village, the muffled echo of water all around, and your boyfriend's words from the prefect's bathroom resurfacing with a jarring clarity: "I have a feeling I'm going to need you to get through this task."

He had been right.

The task wasn't just about retrieving an object of value—it was about recovering the most precious thing stolen from them.

For Yunho, that had been you.

"Oh thank god, you're alright," he murmured, his voice thick with relief as he guided you onto the shore. The cheers and applause from the crowd were a distant hum in the background, drowned out by the pounding of his heart. Grabbing a towel, he draped it over your shoulders, enveloping you in its warmth before pulling you close. His arms wrapped around you securely, as though anchoring you back to him and shielding you from the chill that clung to the air.

You pressed your forehead against his shoulder, his familiar scent grounding you amidst the chaos of the moment. Despite the lingering cold, a soft smile crept onto your lips. Your voice, though weak, carried an unwavering sincerity. "How could I not be? You'll always save me… my hero."

His grip on you tightened at your words, his heart swelling with emotion as he buried his face in your hair. "Always," he whispered, his voice steady but laced with the weight of his promise. "Now I understand how hard it is for you to worry about me. I promise I'll make it out alive, every time—for you."

The announcement of his second-place finish barely registered. Everything seemed insignificant in the face of what truly mattered. All that filled his mind was the undeniable fact that you were safe, right here in his arms—the one person he cared for most.

Yeosang ↠ Ravenclaw

The Annoying Ace

"Hey, Kang! What'd you get for Potions? There's no way you aced it this time—it was brutal, and you barely studied before the test," a fellow Ravenclaw called out, pulling Yeosang from his thoughts. He glanced up, a small, nonchalant smile gracing his lips as he held up his graded paper. "You're right, it was tough. I only got an A- this time."

The room fell silent. His classmates stared at him, their jaws nearly hitting the floor. Was he serious? Most of the class had barely scraped by, even after endless hours of revision. Seventh-year Potions was no joke, filled with the most complex and challenging formulas known to the wizarding world.

"Only an A-? Are you kidding me? Did you bribe the professor or something?" someone blurted out, their voice tinged with disbelief.

You, seated next to your boyfriend, shot them a sharp glare. "Say that again in front of Professor Slughorn. I dare you," you retorted, crossing your arms.

The student huffed indignantly, muttering under their breath. "Whatever. You probably cheated with Felix Felicis or something."

Before you could unleash another scathing comeback, Yeosang gently placed a hand on your shoulder, his calm demeanour soothing your rising temper. His ever-composed smile didn't waver as he addressed the accusation. "Well," he began, his voice light but laced with quiet confidence, "if we were skilled enough to brew the Liquid Luck flawlessly and effectively, wouldn't that alone prove we deserve our grades?"

The remark landed with perfect precision, leaving everyone speechless. They knew he had a point. Brewing the luck potion wasn't just difficult—it was borderline impossible for most, requiring six months of meticulous preparation and risking catastrophic failure if done even slightly wrong.

The room buzzed with unspoken thoughts. If you and Yeosang could pull off such a feat, would the Potions exam have been challenging for either of you?

Your lips quirked into a satisfied smile as you exchanged a glance with your boyfriend. That was just like him—always shutting down his doubters with quiet brilliance, never needing to raise his voice to prove his worth.

"Man, I really need to learn how to be as effortlessly cool as you," you teased, giving his shoulder a playful nudge as he led you by the hand out of the classroom and toward the courtyard for some fresh air.

He glanced at you, his usual relaxed grin softening into something fonder. "You're already the coolest person to me," he replied casually as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Your cheeks warmed instantly, and you lightly smacked his arm, looking away as you bit your lip to hide the spreading blush. Even now, you could hardly believe he had accepted your confession back then—and that he was now your boyfriend. To you, he had always seemed so distant, so untouchable, like a star out of reach.

That was, until the day he noticed you struggling with a potion after class and offered to help. You hadn't known it at the time, but that small moment of kindness would lead to something far greater.

Yeosang is that Ravenclaw—the one who always seems lost in his thoughts yet somehow aces every test with ease, charming every professor in the process. He's the envy of his classmates, who burn the midnight oil studying while he effortlessly secures perfect scores. His calm, almost ethereal demeanour only adds to the intrigue, making him a bit of a mystery to everyone around him.

No one can figure out how he manages to zone out during Potions lessons and still brew flawless draughts, but they're too in awe (and slightly frustrated) to ask. It's just him—an enigma wrapped in quiet confidence, and somehow, he was yours.

"But seriously, Yeo, have you actually managed to perfect your luck potion? Don't think I didn't notice Professor Slughorn sneaking glances your way. He really did trust you to brew some for him, didn't he?" you asked, leaning your head against his shoulder, fingers gently squeezing his where they were intertwined with yours.

He hummed softly, the sound vibrating against you as he rested his head atop yours. With a flick of his wand, he cast a subtle charm to deflect a stray prank from a group of cheeky Gryffindors playing with products from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The spell stopped the flying object just before it could land anywhere near you. Your heart fluttered at his nonchalant protectiveness, and you couldn't help but notice the envious sighs from a few girls nearby.

"I'll answer that," he murmured, his tone teasing, "when you tell me how you managed to brew such a flawless Amortentia draught."

You blinked, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "The love potion? What are you talking about? I've never even tried to make one."

A small smile tugged at his lips, and he reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Are you sure about that?"

You furrowed your brows, your confusion deepening. "Yes, I'm sure," you replied, your tone laced with scepticism. But before you could press him further, he leaned in and stole a quick kiss, leaving you gasping softly in surprise. Your hand flew to your lips, cheeks aflame as you tried to process what just happened.

Yeosang chuckled at your flustered reaction, his arm slipping securely around your back as he guided you to keep walking. "Then explain how you managed to make me so hopelessly enamoured with you," he said, his voice low but teasing. "It's the only logical explanation for how smitten I am."

"Oh, obviously. That's the only logical explanation," you burst out laughing, playfully trying to push him away, but he held firm, his grip steady yet gentle.

He chuckled along with you, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "Exactly, my love. You've clearly bewitched me, and I have no intention of breaking free."

"The feeling's mutual, my darling genius."

San ↠ Slytherin

The Intimidating Head Boy Who's Secretly a Softie

"Oh, come on, Pumpkin! When will you learn to leave the Monster Book of Monsters alone?!" San groaned in exasperation, his eyes following his mischievous cat as it darted around, narrowly avoiding the snapping Care of Magical Creatures textbook that was now chasing it across the yard. The naughty feline had somehow managed to unclasp the book—again. "Come here, you stubborn little thing!" he called, swooping in to scoop up the cat.

With practised ease, he approached the wild book, stroking its spine gently until it calmed and locked itself shut, just as Hagrid had taught. Of course, San was probably the only one who had actually paid attention to that particular lesson.

A dramatic gasp caught his attention, and he turned to find you standing nearby, a teasing grin plastered across your face.

"Well well, who would've thought? The scary and intimidating Choi San names his cat Pumpkin? And a cat, no less? I always pictured you with an owl or a crow. Guess you're a softie after all. Wait till the rest of the house finds out."

He rolled his eyes but smirked, settling back into his seat behind Hagrid's hut. "Go ahead and tell them, sweetheart. It's not like I asked anyone to see me as the 'mean and cold Slytherin.' If they want to believe that, then that's on them."

You chuckled and took a seat beside him, watching as he cooed at his cat and peppered it with kisses. "So, what's a big bad boy like you doing out here, hm?"

"Detention, obviously," he deadpanned, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Fits my reputation, doesn't it?"

You shook your head knowingly, the corner of your lips curling upward. "If that's what you're calling it, sure. But Hagrid told me you were out here for some extra lessons on Hippogriffs when I passed him earlier."

He feigned a pout, resting his chin on Pumpkin's head. "Damn, you caught me. There goes my big bad boy image. Boohoo."

You burst out laughing, unable to hold it in.

San had always been an enigma to those around him. With his sharp, commanding presence and role as Head Boy, he had a reputation for being unapproachable. First-years practically scrambled out of his way in the corridors. But those who dared get to know him soon discovered that beneath the piercing gaze and confident swagger was a playful, caring soul who adored magical creatures.

And you? You were supposedly his rival—his female counterpart, according to your peers. With your equally composed demeanour and role as Head Girl, it wasn't uncommon for people to pit the two of you against each other. But those who looked closer would've seen the truth: you were far from rivals. If anything, you were two halves of the same warm, hidden flame, especially when it came to each other.

"Well, I hope you don't mind me joining you on your little detention, Choi," you teased, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He hummed thoughtfully, nuzzling his head against yours. "On one condition."

"And what's that?" you glanced up at him.

He bit his lip, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let me take you to Hogsmeade this weekend, Head Girl."

"Alright, alright. None of that in my class," Hagrid's booming voice cut through the moment, startling both of you as you quickly pulled apart, clearing your throats in unison.

San shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck while you tried—and failed—to suppress a laugh.

Hagrid folded his massive arms across his chest, his bushy eyebrows raised knowingly. "We're only doing this if you're both serious, okay? This isn't some fun little date idea."

You nodded earnestly, though the corners of your lips twitched with amusement. "Of course, Professor. We're serious about this."

But Hagrid wasn't done.

Turning his attention to the Head Boy, he added, "But please, do take her to Hogsmeade, lad. I've heard more than enough from you about how much you like her."

San's eyes widened, his cheeks instantly flushing a deep crimson. "H-Hagrid!" he stammered, his voice a pitch higher than usual.

You couldn't hold it in anymore, bursting into laughter as he glared at you half-heartedly. "Oh, you're never living this down," you teased, nudging his arm.

"I—uh—yes, sir," he mumbled, his voice barely audible as he stared down at the ground, clearly flustered.

The professor chuckled, giving a hearty clap to the young man's shoulder that nearly made him stumble. "That's what I like to hear, Choi. Now, back to work, both of you. Those Hippogriffs aren't going to train themselves."

As Hagrid lumbered away, you leaned closer to San, grinning. "So, how much do you like me, Choi San?"

He groaned, his hands covering his face. "Can we just focus on the Hippogriffs?"

"Not a chance," you replied smugly, your laughter ringing out as his ears turned an even brighter shade of red.

The journey back to the common room was filled with quiet comfort, but as you both stepped through the entrance, his demeanour shifted instantly. Gone was the flustered boy from earlier; in his place stood the stoic and commanding Head Boy, his sharp gaze sweeping over the lounging students.

"Keep it down," he said curtly to a group of rowdy second-years, his tone leaving no room for argument. They immediately quieted, murmuring apologies.

You bit back a smile, watching his transformation with newfound amusement. After seeing the playful, gentle side of him during the lesson with Hagrid, this intimidating persona of his now seemed more endearing than imposing. It was his way of keeping the chaos in check, and you couldn't help but admire how effortlessly he switched between the two sides of himself.

As you trailed behind him, snippets of hushed whispers reached your ears.

"Did they come back together?"

"Isn't that the Head Girl?"

"Are they… you know?"

You glanced at San and caught the slight gulp he tried to conceal, his stiff posture giving away his unease despite his poker face.

When you both reached the point where the dorms split, you turned to him, raising an eyebrow. He stood tall, keeping his expression neutral, though you could see the faintest flicker of nervousness in his eyes. The room fell silent, the curious gazes of your housemates fixed on the two of you.

You smirked, breaking the tension. "So, Hogsmeade this weekend, right?"

His eyes widened, and a soft gasp rippled through the common room. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure as he met your gaze. "You… accept?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, though the playful glint in your eyes betrayed your amusement. "Well, you did say I could only join you earlier if I agreed to this. Seeing as we've already finished the lesson, that clearly means I've accepted, no?"

For a moment, his carefully constructed mask faltered, replaced by a grin so wide and boyish that it made your heart skip a beat. He didn't care about the whispers anymore as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to give yours a gentle squeeze.

"It's a date then, Head Girl."

You smiled back, your voice light but teasing as you replied, "Sounds good, Head Boy."

The room erupted into murmurs and low cheers as you turned and walked toward your dorm, feeling his gaze follow you until you disappeared from sight. If San had been worried about his reputation before, it was clear now that he didn't care.

Not when it came to you.

Mingi ↠ Ravenclaw

The Son of a Famous Wizard Scientist

"Going somewhere, Song?"

Mingi cursed under his breath, reluctantly pulling the invisibility cloak off his frame to face you. You sat casually in one of the Ravenclaw common room chairs, a book in hand and an amused smirk playing on your lips. He looked thoroughly defeated. "How do you always figure me out?"

You chuckled, closing your book and setting it aside as you straightened up. "It's not that hard with your lack of stealth. I feel the breeze every time you pass by. Honestly, the real mystery is how Filch hasn't caught you yet."

He crossed his arms with a huff, a pout forming on his lips. "Ugh, what's it gonna take for you to pretend you didn't see me? My dad cannot find out. Name your price."

You tapped your chin, standing to your full height and eyeing the Marauder's Map in his hands. "I want in on whatever you're up to."

His brows shot up in surprise. "You? But aren't you like... the model Ravenclaw? Goody two shoes, follows every rule, reads for fun? Why would you risk your squeaky-clean image for something like this?"

You shrugged, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Let's just say I'm curious about what the great wizard scientist's son is always sneaking off to do instead of, I don't know, living up to everyone's—and your father's—expectations."

He sighed in defeat, lifting his left arm to gesture for you to join him under the cloak. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you. Just make sure you can keep up. And for Merlin's sake, please tell me your stealth skills are better than mine. You really don't want to run into Mrs. Norris."

"Trust me, I wouldn't dream of it," you replied, ducking under the cloak with him, your heart racing at the prospect of finally joining him on one of his adventures.

And so, that night marked the beginning of an unlikely yet thrilling partnership: you and Song Mingi, partners-in-crime navigating Hogwarts past curfew.

For someone as studious and rule-abiding as you, it was a surprising twist to find yourself sneaking through hidden passageways, clutching an invisibility cloak, and dodging prefects alongside someone like Mingi. But there was something irresistibly intriguing about him—the way he effortlessly balanced his rebellious streak with a sharp intellect, and how his lighthearted demeanour contrasted with the heavy expectations placed upon him.

You see, unlike your ordinary self, his life was all about finding his own path despite the pressures of his family name. As the son of a renowned wizarding scientist, expectations for him to follow in those illustrious footsteps were high. But Mingi? He wasn't interested in being defined by anyone else's legacy.

Sure, he had the smarts for it—his insights into magical theories often surprised you, even when they were thrown in casually during one of your late-night escapades. But instead of shouldering the weight of those expectations, he found joy in simply being himself. He explored magic for the sake of curiosity, not obligation.

Of course, it was hard for someone like him to truly fly under the radar. With his tall frame and infectious laugh, he had a knack for drawing attention no matter how much he tried to avoid it. He'd always play it off with an easy grin, though—effortlessly charming his way out of trouble (well, most of the time).

And now, here you were, walking beside him in the dead of night, laughing softly at his whispered commentary about the portraits on the walls. It was a side of him most people didn't see—carefree, thoughtful, and incredibly warm.

"Alright, where to next, partner?" you asked, barely containing your grin as you reached a fork in the corridor.

He glanced at the map, his finger tracing a path. "A secret stash of sweets hidden near the kitchens. Wanna check it out?"

"Only if you're willing to share," you teased, bumping his shoulder lightly.

He smirked, holding the cloak open as you ducked beneath it again. "Deal. But only because I need you to distract the house elves if we get caught."

With that, the two of you disappeared into the night, laughter echoing softly down the empty hallways. It was the start of a friendship, and perhaps something more that, against all odds, just worked.

On one of the slower days at school, the two of you lounged in the Great Hall, a wizard's chessboard between you. The usual hum of scattered conversations and the clinking of goblets provided a quiet backdrop as Mingi hunched over the board, his tall frame bent in concentration. His eyes darted between pieces, plotting his next move with a focus that made you smirk.

"I've got an idea," you said, leaning back with a teasing grin. "Whoever loses has to take on a dare during tonight's adventure."

His head shot up, a glimmer of intrigue lighting up his eyes. He grinned, his expression a mix of mischief and admiration for the rebellious streak you seemed to save just for him. "Oh, it's on."

The match stretched out with calculated moves and sly counters, both of you pouring focus into claiming victory. But when your queen finally cornered his king, you leaned back with a triumphant grin. "Checkmate," you declared, watching the realisation dawn on his face.

He groaned theatrically, throwing his head back. "Noooo!"

You laughed, folding your arms smugly. "Now, about that dare..."

He straightened in his seat, narrowing his eyes as he tried to guess your plan. "Alright, hit me with your worst."

A mischievous gleam danced in your eyes as you leaned forward and whispered, "Tonight, when we sneak out, you have to charm Moaning Myrtle with your best pickup lines."

His jaw dropped, his ears turning an amusing shade of red. "You want me to flirt with a ghost?!"

"That's the dare," you said, grinning wider.

He blinked at you in disbelief, then let out a booming laugh, shaking his head. "You're insane. But fine—a deal's a deal."

As the two of you packed up, you noticed a flicker of something softer in his gaze. He clearly enjoyed this side of you, the playful daring you didn't often let others see.

The night was quiet as you snuck through the dark hallways, huddled beneath the invisibility cloak. The close proximity made it impossible to ignore the way your shoulders brushed, or how you could feel his breath softly against your ear as he whispered directions. You tried to focus, but the warmth radiating from him and the faint smell of his cologne made it difficult.

He wasn't faring any better. His movements felt unusually cautious, his arm brushing against yours more often than necessary, his voice a little lower than usual when he whispered, "Careful where you step."

Ironically, it was his warning that broke your concentration. Your foot landed on something uneven, and before you could stop yourself, you tripped, sending a potted plant toppling from its perch.

The crash echoed loudly through the corridor. "What was that?!" Filch's voice screeched in the distance, sending panic shooting through you both.

"Move!" Mingi hissed, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the nearest room. The door creaked shut just as the school caretaker's hurried footsteps grew louder.

You realised, to your dismay, that the "room" was a cramped broom cupboard. The two of you were squished together in the small space, the invisibility cloak still draped awkwardly over your heads. Your breathing was ragged from the sudden sprint, and you both struggled to keep quiet as Filch's grumbling grew nearer.

"Stupid kids sneaking around… I'll catch them sooner or later," he muttered as his footsteps faded in the opposite direction.

Only when the sound of his boots disappeared entirely did you dare to speak. "We're safe now," you whispered.

"Yeah," Mingi murmured back, his voice quieter than usual.

That's when you noticed just how close you were. Your heart stuttered as you looked up, your nose grazing his. His dark eyes locked onto yours, and you could feel his breath, warm and shallow, mingling with your own. Neither of you moved, the air between you was charged and heavy.

He swallowed hard, his hand slowly brushing against yours beneath the cloak. "I know I lost the game," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "But... is it alright if I flirt with someone else tonight?"

Your breath caught, your thoughts spinning as he leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing yours.

"That depends on who it is," you whispered back, your voice shaky.

He smiled softly, his eyes flicking between yours and your lips. "You."

Your heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, your hand slid up to grip the collar of his shirt as you murmured, "Fine."

Then, closing the final distance, you pressed your lips to his. When you finally pulled away, the world felt different as you stayed close, foreheads touching. He let out a soft chuckle, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "Best dare I've ever lost."

You smiled. "Guess I'll have to keep challenging you then, Song."

"Guess you will," he whispered, leaning in for another kiss.

Wooyoung ↠ Gryffindor

The Talented Quidditch Beater

"Woo, you got it! That's my boy!"

The sound of your voice rang out across the pitch, instantly catching Wooyoung's attention. A grin lit up his face as he turned mid-flight on his Nimbus 2000, his eyes sparkling as they met yours.

"I'll make you proud, babe!" he called back, his tone brimming with confidence.

"Not if you can't keep your eyes on the game," his teammate—another Beater—shouted, swooping in just in time to deflect a bludger barreling toward him.

His eyes widened at the close call before a sheepish, boyish grin spread across his face. "Thanks, mate. That was a little too close!"

He turned his attention back to you, throwing you a playful wink and blowing a kiss in your direction. "Love you," he mouthed with a quick smirk, clearly revelling in the way your worried gaze softened into a smile.

And then, just like that, he was off again, zooming across the pitch like the fearless champ he was, ready to win not just for his team, but for the person cheering him on from the stands.

Pride swelled in your chest like a warm, unrelenting tide as you watched your boyfriend play. It was almost surreal to think about how far the two of you had come—especially since there was a time when you couldn't stand him.

Back then, Jung Wooyoung was everything you couldn't tolerate: loud, attention-seeking, and constantly wreaking havoc with his pranks. He was the popular Gryffindor Quidditch star with a magnetic grin, always surrounded by friends and admirers. Meanwhile, you were his polar opposite—a shy, studious student with no interest in shenanigans, focused solely on excelling in your studies and making your parents proud.

It all started when one of his pranks nearly ruined your Transfiguration assignment. Furious, you'd confronted him in front of half the common room, calling him reckless and immature. Wooyoung, never one to back down, had retaliated with a smirk, calling you boring and stiff. That marked the beginning of your rivalry—petty remarks, pointed glares, and intentionally getting on each other's nerves became routine.

But everything changed the day he overheard a group of Slytherins mocking you. Their cruel taunts about your Muggle heritage—and the word "Mudblood" slicing through the air—left you reeling. Before you could even muster a response, he stepped in, his usual playful demeanour replaced by something sharp and unyielding.

"What did you just say?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. The bullies faltered under his glare, and though they tried to brush it off, he didn't let them escape unscathed. He stood firm, defending you with a conviction that left you stunned.

From that day on, the dynamic between you shifted. He made it clear that no one was to mess with you—not even his own friends, who had occasionally targeted you with harmless pranks. In return, you stopped berating him for his antics, accepting that his mischief was simply part of who he was. Over time, you found yourself laughing at his jokes, and he discovered a softer side to you that few others had ever seen.

Years passed, and that fragile truce evolved into friendship. Somewhere along the way, the friendship blossomed into something deeper, something neither of you could ignore. And now, here you were, standing in the Gryffindor stands, cheering him on with every fibre of your being.

Only after being with him did you truly understand why so many adored him for his talent. On the pitch, he was in his element. As a Beater, he thrived on adrenaline, his bat swinging with precision as he sent a bludger hurtling toward the opposing team. He was a natural showman, hyping up the crowd with daring plays and cheeky winks. Though his mischievous nature was ever-present, he became fiercely competitive during matches, his focus unshakable when it came to leading his house to victory.

You smiled as he executed a flawless manoeuvre, his laughter echoing across the pitch when the crowd erupted into cheers. He was so different from the boy you had once disliked, yet so quintessentially the same. His charm, his energy, his ability to make everyone around him feel alive—it was impossible not to love him for it.

"Watch this, babe!" he called as he rocketed past the stands, his grin wide and unrestrained. He was a whirlwind of passion and joy, and he was yours. And somehow, you wouldn't have it any other way.

"Aaaand Gryffindor wins!"

The roar of the crowd filled the stadium as the Gryffindor Seeker triumphantly held up the golden snitch, the tiny wings glinting under the bright sun. Cheers echoed through the stands, Gryffindor flags waving wildly in celebration. You cheered, knowing that much of this victory was thanks to your boyfriend, who had spent the game clearing the path for his teammate with skilful swings of his bat.

Amid the chaos, Wooyoung's sharp eyes immediately sought you out. Despite the throng of screaming fans and his own teammates clamouring to celebrate, all he could see was you. Without hesitation, he veered his broom in your direction, ignoring the unmistakable warning glare from Professor McGonagall.

Hovering in front of you, he flashed his signature grin, his chest rising and falling from the adrenaline of the match. Before you could say a word, he leaned in and kissed you, his lips warm and slightly chapped from the cold wind. The crowd's cheers seemed to fade as you felt his smile against your own, your cheeks heating with the realisation of how public this display was.

When you pulled away, your voice was barely above a whisper. "That's enough, Woo. You don't want detention now, do you?"

He laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I wouldn't mind it if you were there too." With a wink, he flew off to join his team, leaving you blinking sheepishly under Professor McGonagall's sharp gaze.

You cleared your throat, attempting to smooth down your robes as you mumbled, "Sorry, Professor."

To your surprise, her expression softened, and she gestured for you to walk with her as the stands began to empty. "Don't be," she said, her voice measured but kind. "You're a good motivator for him. We appreciate it. I won't lie and say our victories haven't increased since you came into the picture."

Her words left you blushing furiously as you followed her down the steps. Did that mean even she shipped you and Wooyoung? The very thought had you hiding a bashful smile behind your scarf, the cheers of the Gryffindor team still ringing in your ears.

Jongho ↠ Slytherin

The Scary Prefect Who Commands Respect

"There he is! Shhh, keep it down!"

Your friends scrambled to settle into their seats, hastily lowering their voices and pretending to focus on the books in front of them. You followed their lead, keeping your head down as the most intimidating prefect of Slytherin entered the library. Choi Jongho's very name was enough to make most students sit up straight, and his imposing presence only amplified that effect. His silence carried more weight than words ever could, commanding obedience and respect effortlessly.

You swallowed hard, trying to concentrate on the text in front of you, but your focus wavered the moment his footsteps stopped—right beside you. Your heart raced as you eyed his polished shoes, unsure if you'd done something wrong. Too nervous to meet his gaze, you froze in place, waiting for whatever came next.

"Here. I think you dropped this," he said, his voice low yet unexpectedly warm.

Your eyes widened at the gentle tone, and you glanced up to see him holding out your late father's pocket watch. The faintest trace of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips—so fleeting you wondered if you'd imagined it.

"O-oh, thank you," you stammered, taking the cherished item from him. A spark shot through you when your fingers brushed against his, leaving your heart fluttering in a way you hadn't anticipated.

"You're welcome," he replied simply, his voice kind yet measured, before continuing on his patrol.

As you watched him walk away, a realisation settled in your mind—perhaps he wasn't as fearsome as everyone claimed.

Jongho's reputation was well-earned. As a Slytherin prefect, he didn't need to raise his voice to maintain order. A single stern look was enough to make any student think twice about misbehaving, and his word was as final as it was rare. Yet, those who truly knew him understood there was more to him than his intimidating exterior. Beneath the cool, composed demeanour was a steadfast friend with a laugh that could shatter his usual seriousness in an instant.

And soon, you would become one of the few to witness that softer side of him—though, for now, you had no idea what lay ahead.

It was on a particularly eerie evening that you would come to learn the truth. The air hung heavy with an unsettling stillness as you wandered along the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, seeking solitude to clear your mind after a gruelling week. The low-hanging clouds cloaked the forest in shadows, and the quiet seemed almost too oppressive.

But peace was the last thing you found.

A low, menacing growl rippled through the trees, stopping you dead in your tracks. Your breath caught as you turned, your wand trembling in your hand, to face a pair of glowing eyes cutting through the darkness.

A werewolf.

Your heart pounded wildly as the creature advanced, its snarling lips curling back to reveal rows of sharp teeth. Panic seized you. You tried to cast a spell, but fear made your movements clumsy, and the incantation faltered on your tongue. The werewolf snarled again, its deadly intent unmistakable.

You were sure you were doomed.

Suddenly, a thunderous roar shattered the tense silence, startling both you and the beast. From the shadows emerged a massive bear, its fur bristling and eyes blazing with an otherworldly fury. The bear wasted no time, charging at the werewolf with raw power and unmatched ferocity.

Their clash was brutal and swift, the werewolf no match for the bear's strength and determination. Before long, the defeated creature limped off into the safety of the forest, leaving you frozen in place, trembling from head to toe.

The bear turned its attention to you, its intelligent gaze locking onto yours. Despite your fear, there was something strangely familiar in the way it looked at you—almost protective.

And then, to your utter disbelief, the bear began to shift. Its enormous form shrank, fur receding as its features morphed into something distinctly human. In a matter of moments, you found yourself staring at Choi Jongho, his sharp eyes unwavering as they met yours.

"You…" The word barely escaped your lips, your voice a mere whisper. "You're an animagus?"

His jaw tightened briefly before he nodded. "Yes," he admitted, his tone steady but quiet.

You blinked, your mind racing to process what you had just witnessed. It wasn't just the transformation that left you reeling—it was the way he had risked himself to save you. "Why didn't you tell anyone?" you finally managed.

He let out a soft sigh, running a hand through his hair. For the first time, you saw the stoic facade crack, revealing something raw beneath. "People already think I'm intimidating enough," he said, his voice laced with vulnerability. "If they knew I could turn into a bear, they'd see me as a monster. Even if I chose this form to protect, not harm."

Your chest tightened at his words, at the loneliness he must have carried. His stern demeanour suddenly made sense—it was a shield, a way to keep others from seeing the parts of himself he feared they wouldn't understand.

"But it's not a bad thing," you said softly, taking a step closer. "You became an animagus for a noble reason. That says more about who you are than anything else."

His gaze softened, the hard lines of his face easing just slightly. "I appreciate that," he murmured. "But not everyone would see it the same way. People fear what they don't understand."

For the first time, you saw through the intimidating exterior everyone else feared. Beneath it all, he was just someone who cared deeply, someone who bore the weight of his secrets quietly for the sake of those around him.

"Thank you for saving me," you said earnestly, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. "Your secret's safe with me. I promise."

He nodded, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "It's my pleasure," he replied, his tone warm yet reserved. "Now, you should get back. It's not safe out here."

"And you?"

"I'll make sure the forest is clear," he assured you, his protective instincts shining through. "Go. I'll be right behind you."

As you made your way back to the castle, your mind was consumed with thoughts of Jongho. The boy who had just saved your life was so much more than the fearsome prefect everyone believed him to be. And now, you carried a piece of his truth, a secret that revealed a depth to him you never would have imagined.

From then on, something shifted.

You became one of the few who dared to hold his gaze, the rare recipient of his fleeting smiles. Where others saw the intimidating Slytherin prefect, you saw the quiet strength and vulnerability he kept hidden beneath the surface. And nothing shocked people more than seeing him sit next to you at breakfast in the Great Hall.

Whispers rippled through the tables, curious and incredulous alike. Choi Jongho, the stoic and fearsome prefect, sitting with someone? A girl? The novelty was enough to turn heads, but what truly caught people's attention was the way he looked at you.

There was something unmistakable in his eyes—a quiet affection, soft and unguarded, as if your presence unravelled the walls he so carefully maintained.

He glanced over at you as you finished your meal, his expression relaxed yet tinged with curiosity. "Where are you headed after this?" he asked, his tone casual but attentive.

You wiped your hands with a napkin, smiling up at him. "The Duelling Club."

His eyebrows rose in mild surprise. "The Duelling Club? But why?"

You bit back a laugh at his incredulity, placing your fork down with an amused shake of your head. "Because someone with a very admirable trait has inspired me," you said, your voice warm with sincerity. "To be stronger, to protect those around me too."

The words caught him off guard, and you watched as his usual composure faltered. He blinked, a faint flush creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. The sight was endearing, a rare glimpse of boyishness in the otherwise composed prefect.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, reaching for his goblet of pumpkin juice and taking a long sip as if it might steady him. Setting it down, he muttered softly, "You don't have to." His eyes flickered to yours, vulnerable but earnest. "You'll always have me."

Your chest warmed at his words, his quiet promise resonating deeply. He might have been the boy feared by many, but to you, he was simply someone who cared more deeply than he let on.

You leaned forward slightly, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "I know," you said, your voice gentle but firm. "But it doesn't hurt to know how to hold my own, does it?"

He exhaled a quiet chuckle, the corner of his lips curving upward in a rare but genuine smile. "Fair enough," he conceded, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer before turning back to his plate. "But I'm coming with."

Any fellow Potterheads here? Humour this poor author and tell me about your Hogwarts house, your favourite Harry Potter book/movie as well as your favourite character! Most importantly, let me know if you agree with the houses I've sorted the members into!

Hope you enjoyed this! As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

General ATEEZ Tag list:

@aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 |

@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho |

@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline |

@sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid @tinyteezer @hollxe1 |

@pandabur666 @vampzity @tournesol155 @lilactangerine @oddracha |

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@bunny4yungi @zl-world

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reasonsforhope · 10 months ago

Text

"Doctors have begun trialling the world’s first mRNA lung cancer vaccine in patients, as experts hailed its “groundbreaking” potential to save thousands of lives.

Lung cancer is the world’s leading cause of cancer death, accounting for about 1.8m deaths every year. Survival rates in those with advanced forms of the disease, where tumours have spread, are particularly poor.

Now experts are testing a new jab that instructs the body to hunt down and kill cancer cells – then prevents them ever coming back. Known as BNT116 and made by BioNTech, the vaccine is designed to treat non-small cell lung cancer (NSCLC), the most common form of the disease.

The phase 1 clinical trial, the first human study of BNT116, has launched across 34 research sites in seven countries: the UK, US, Germany, Hungary, Poland, Spain and Turkey.

The UK has six sites, located in England and Wales, with the first UK patient to receive the vaccine having their initial dose on Tuesday [August 20, 2024].

Overall, about 130 patients – from early-stage before surgery or radiotherapy, to late-stage disease or recurrent cancer – will be enrolled to have the jab alongside immunotherapy. About 20 will be from the UK.

The jab uses messenger RNA (mRNA), similar to Covid-19 vaccines, and works by presenting the immune system with tumour markers from NSCLC to prime the body to fight cancer cells expressing these markers.

The aim is to strengthen a person’s immune response to cancer while leaving healthy cells untouched, unlike chemotherapy.

“We are now entering this very exciting new era of mRNA-based immunotherapy clinical trials to investigate the treatment of lung cancer,” said Prof Siow Ming Lee, a consultant medical oncologist at University College London hospitals NHS foundation trust (UCLH), which is leading the trial in the UK.

“It’s simple to deliver, and you can select specific antigens in the cancer cell, and then you target them. This technology is the next big phase of cancer treatment.”

Janusz Racz, 67, from London, was the first person to have the vaccine in the UK. He was diagnosed in May and soon after started chemotherapy and radiotherapy.

The scientist, who specialises in AI, said his profession inspired him to take part in the trial. “I am a scientist too, and I understand that the progress of science – especially in medicine – lies in people agreeing to be involved in such investigations,” he said...

“And also, I can be a part of the team that can provide proof of concept for this new methodology, and the faster it would be implemented across the world, more people will be saved.”

Racz received six consecutive injections five minutes apart over 30 minutes at the National Institute for Health Research UCLH Clinical Research Facility on Tuesday.

Each jab contained different RNA strands. He will get the vaccine every week for six consecutive weeks, and then every three weeks for 54 weeks.

Lee said: “We hope adding this additional treatment will stop the cancer coming back because a lot of time for lung cancer patients, even after surgery and radiation, it does come back.” ...

“We hope to go on to phase 2, phase 3, and then hope it becomes standard of care worldwide and saves lots of lung cancer patients.”

The Guardian revealed in May that thousands of patients in England were to be fast-tracked into groundbreaking trials of cancer vaccines in a revolutionary world-first NHS “matchmaking” scheme to save lives.

Under the scheme, patients who meet the eligibility criteria will gain access to clinical trials for the vaccines that experts say represent a new dawn in cancer treatment."

-via The Guardian, May 30, 2024

#cw cancer #cancer research #cancer #lung cancer #nhs #england #vaccine #cancer vaccines #public health #medical news #good news #hope

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marauder-misprint · 3 months ago

Note

Hey if you don't mind writing this, could you write Sirius black with a Malfoy female reader? And it could be a bit of a passionate story if that's ok with you, it could be about their last years at school or their older age in their after school life (a world where everyone will be of age haha)

Hi! Thank you for this request! ❤︎ Not sure if it ended up being the most cohesive story but it is what it is. Also not sure if it's as passionate as you wanted, but I mean, they make out so that's something.

Hope you enjoy! ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Seven minutes

Sirius Black x Malfoy!reader

3k words

cw: a good snog, fluff-ish, pining if you squint, minor pure blood supremacy beliefs

Your parents gave you a chance with things. You always had an option first and if you failed, your parents took over. You needed a dress for your fifth birthday? You got to pick it out, but if you failed to find one, your parents would pick one for you. Going into third year, you knew that you wanted to take Ancient Runes but didn’t know what else to take, so your mother decided that you would take Arithmancy. And going into your seventh year, a new choice was coming up: who you would spend the rest of your life with.

Lucius, your older brother, had started dating Narcissa during his fifth year and your parents were pleased. You, however, hadn’t dated anyone. You hadn’t even kissed anyone. And now you needed to at least be dating someone by the time Christmas break came around, otherwise your parents would pick someone for you.

And you were not going to let them pick someone for you.

You start considering all the boys at Hogwarts. They needed to be from a good family and if you got the option, you’d like them to be attractive and tolerable. Whatever guy you tell your parents about at Christmas could end up being your husband and you didn’t want to be stuck with a dud.

The obvious choice of the eligible bachelors? Evan Rosier. You knew your parents would approve of his lineage. He was a handsome young man and you would go as far to say you were friends. You weren’t always the most sociable, even among Slytherins, and Evan seemed to understand that. If only his sister could understand it…

Now, you have to do the difficult part: get him to see that you’re interested so he asks you out. Some girls are bold enough to ask a guy out, but you were a Malfoy. Your pride said you couldn’t do that. You know your worth. Evan needed to initiate it.

Your first move was to sit next to Evan whenever you could. That, however, meant putting up with listening to Barty and Avery drone on about things you couldn’t care less for.

“I think you could drink more than a gallon of lake water before you throw up,” Barty said, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice.

Evan shook his head. “No. It’s the Black Lake, Junior. That shit will wreck you.”

Avery agreed with Evan, thus leading the boys to plan to test their theory after classes. You just rolled your eyes. Drinking lake water wasn’t how you were planning to spend your afternoon. You’d probably just wait around for them in the common room, reading or something.

“Malfoy, coming to watch?” Avery asked, bringing their attention to you as you stirred your tea lazily.

“I fear I’ve seen Junior throw up more times than I’d like.”

“Aw, I’m not going to throw up!” Barty whined.

Evan casually threw an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side. “She’ll be there.”

Great. You supposed that’s the cost of trying to catch Evan’s eye – if you succeed, you have to put up with his strange activities. But it also meant that he smiled down at you and started to walk with you to your classes. You could feel something building between you two. Your plan was moving ahead, even if you had to see Barty puke after his second cup of lake water. Evan was right – it wrecked Barty’s insides and he had to go to the Hospital Wing.

A few weeks passed and Evan had yet to ask you out, yet to kiss you or make any sort of move on you beyond putting his arm around you occasionally. Still just friends. Your mother wouldn’t accept “I’m working on it” when Christmas came around. You needed to have an actual relationship you could tell her about.

Your interest was piqued when rumors started spreading about a party in Ravenclaw Tower. From what you heard, it was an open invite and your friends were planning on going. When the day came, Pandora, Dorcas and Lucinda walked with you as the group of boys followed behind at a short distance. You were really hoping that Evan would ask you to dance or something. You needed him to make a move. You figured a party would be the perfect place for him to do so. He wouldn’t be singled out if he did; plenty of other students would be dancing and snogging in corners, and probably more behind closed doors.

A boy Pandora knew let you into the common room and you were immediately met with the scene of a party. Music, lights, drinks, dancing, chatter. The group dispersed once you were all inside. Pandora stayed with the boy and Dorcas went to find her friends in Gryffindor. That left you and Lucinda to hang around with the guys, not that you minded. Hanging around Evan was the point of coming tonight.

With a drink in your hand, you felt your hopes sink. Evan was disappearing out onto the roof with Barty and a few others to smoke. He’d be gone for a while and you had absolutely no intention of sitting around while the boys passed a blunt. While you watched Evan head up the stairs, Lucinda slipped away from you. You glanced around the common room with no success. You sighed. You decided to find Dorcas; you could be her shadow for the night.

“And I thought Malfoy was too good for parties,” Sirius drawled as you approached the group.

You crossed your arms, placing yourself just behind Dorcas’ elbow.

“Usually I have better things to do,” you said more quietly than you meant to.

Sirius rolled his eyes and muttered something to Peter that you couldn’t hear. The two boys smirked. You tried to not shrink in on yourself. Maybe you needed to get out more to make more friends so that you wouldn’t be reduced to hanging around Dorcas’ friends when your few decide to go smoke.

“Like I was saying,” Marlene said pointedly, “if a stink bomb went off in the library, Madam Pince would for sure blame you without any proof.”

“Are we not innocent without being proven guilty?” James asked.

“Your existence has made you guilty,” Dorcas laughs.

You shifted your stance next to her. You actively avoided looking at Sirius because you could feel his gaze lingering on you. You know you don’t belong with this group. He knows it. You’re sure the rest of the group knows it, but it’s better than standing alone.

You didn’t listen to their conversation. You knew nothing would be directed at you or would require you to respond. You observed them. James’ eyes would flick over to Lily every so often. She was talking with some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Remus reacted to the conversation with his facial expressions, not saying much as he sipped on his drink. Peter appeared to be desperate to remain a part of the conversation. Something about him made you feel like he could repeat the conversion word for word in two days' time if you asked him to, but he wouldn’t tell you the ingredients for a basic healing potion. Marlene and Dorcas were both at ease as they laughed and poked fun at the boys. Mary, also seeming at ease, mirrored Remus’ stance: not saying much and sipping her drink.

And then there was Sirius. You tried not to look at him. Every time you did, he was looking at you and not looking away. You could tell that from time to time he did look away; you supposed it was to prevent anyone from accusing him of staring at you. But he was.

You mentally blame Evan for it. If he hadn’t gone out to smoke, he’d be in here and you’d be lingering at his side instead of Dorcas’. You’d probably still feel a bit out of place, but it would be less than you did now.

“Oi! Malfoy, Meadowes!” Lucinda called over some music. “Over here, bitches!”

You and Dorcas made eye contact before both rolling your eyes.

“You lot are coming too,” Dorcas said firmly to the Gryffindors, and just like that, the whole group headed over to where Lucinda was standing with her hands on her hips. “What’s up, Luce?”

She held up an empty bottle. “What d’you think? Spin the bottle or seven minutes?”

You looked over to Dorcas to let her answer because frankly, you didn’t want either option. She didn’t get to answer either.

Marlene practically collapsed onto her shoulders and said, “Seven minutes. Let’s give ‘em some privacy!”

“Alright then,” Lucinda said with a wicked grin. “Who’s spinning first?”

The group Lucinda was with and Dorcas’ groups merged to form a large circle as Marlene took the bottle from Lucinda and placed it on the ground. She decided that since she chose the game, she would spin it first. She looked a bit disappointed when it landed on a boy from Hufflepuff but went into one of the closets with him anyways. You waited as more people spun the bottle and got ushered off into closets. The spinning had to pause occasionally to allow for closets to open up. You kept a neutral expression as the bottle drifted past you with each spin.

“Black, you’re up. A closet just cleared,” a Ravenclaw boy yelled.

You crossed your arms, watching Sirius move to the bottle. It felt like the whole circle was holding its breath as the bottle spun. How hard he spun it would decide his next victim. Well, that’s how you’d describe it; other girls would probably see it as an honor or something. You stared, frozen in place, as the bottle stopped pointing in your direction.

“Oooooh!” a few voices around the room said.

Sirius stood in front of you with a smirk on his face and a hand extended in front of him. You don’t want to take it. You don’t want to be in a closet for seven minutes with him. You’d rather leave the party right now. When you didn’t move, Sirius grabbed your hand and pulled you with him in the direction of the open closet. You sent Dorcas a pleading look, hoping she can somehow get you out of this, but she just smiled.

“Have fun in there,” the Ravenclaw boy said before closing the door and locking it with a click.

“Malfoy, you didn’t have to look so upset,” Sirius said.

Your back was against the wall and Sirius still felt too close to you. You liked him better when he was standing on the other side of the circle, far away from you. You liked it better when you couldn’t smell his cologne, even if he had good taste, and when you couldn’t hear his breathing. His hand moved and touched yours. You jerked your hand away.

“Don’t,” you hissed.

He chuckled. “Fine. Then tell me why you looked upset when the bottle chose you.”

“Upset?” you scoffed. “Because you’re… you!’

“I’m me. Yup. And your issue with that is…”

“Oh please, I don’t need to answer that.”

Sirius hummed. “I think you do.” He reached forward again but this time, his fingers brushed the side of your face. “What’s the pretty little Malfoy got against me?”

You forcefully grabbed his wrist to hold his hand away from you.

“That. That is my issue with you. You think all girls should just fall at your feet, praise the ground you walk on. And what’s even worse, a lot of them do.”

“But you don’t.”

“Correct.”

Sirius clasped his hand over the one you had on his wrist.

“That’s what makes you desirable.”

“Desirable? You must think I’m delusional if you think I’ll believe that.”

“No, I think you’re quite sane, you know, a realist. And if you think about it, why would I admit to desiring you when you match everything my parents expect me to want? Come on, it’s me.” Sirius slowly pried your fingers off of his wrist. “And, you should know, that bottle didn’t land on you by chance.”

“You needed to trap me in a closet with you so you could, what? Charm me?”

“This is the first time I’ve seen you at a party since me and the boys started sneaking into them. Couldn’t waste my chance.”

“Again, you needed to trap me in a closet with you?”

“Let’s see, I’m not allowed in the Slytherin Common Room. I’ve been hexed away from the Slytherin table more than once. It’s not like you would’ve given me the time of day if I talked to you in the library,” Sirius listed off. “So, yes, I did need to trap you in here.”

“You admit it’s a trap. Good.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, still very aware of how close Sirius was to you and unsure of where he’d put his hands next. But you had to admit, he was correct – the only time Sirius could talk to you was when you approached him and that wasn’t something you do. Tonight had just been a fluke. You had gone to a party without ensuring you had enough Slytherins to surround you and keep you entertained.

“Listen-” Sirius started to say.

“Like I have a choice,” you grumbled, earning a low chuckle from him.

“I think you should give me a chance. Decide for yourself if I’m worth all the praise I receive. Take me for a test drive.”

You scoff, holding yourself tighter. “Could you be any more full of yourself?”

“I mean, I could…”

“Merlin, Black… Rhetorical question!” You sighed. “When are these goddamn seven minutes up?”

“We got time. But really, think about it. You’re here, right now, with me. With nothing else to do for a few minutes. We can stand in silence or you can kiss me. And, in my humble opinion, one of those sounds a lot more fun.”

Your mouth moved before you realized what you were saying. “I don’t make the first move.”

Sirius understood that to be permission. One of his hands found your face, cupping it, and then his lips met yours. He was gentle and waited before adding more pressure; he gave you the chance to push him away and you didn’t. You didn’t pull him in either. You let the kiss happen and when he tried to deepen the kiss, you let him. When he nipped at your lips, you separated them and allowed his tongue to meet yours. At that point, you had your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself.

“Padfoot, time’s up,” Remus called through the door.

There was the click of the lock being undone. Sirius, however, wasn’t done with you. Remus opened the door barely a crack before Sirius was pulling it back shut.

“Take this one off rotation,” he said before locking the door with magic.

You took a shaky breath, the weight of your first kiss hitting you. Sirius’ hands rested on your waist. He must’ve been able to tell something was off.

“You alright? Did you… want to leave?”

You bit your lip.

“I just need a second.”

You did. Your first kiss. And it was with Sirius Black – the notorious black sheep of his family. Not only that, but it happened as you were trying to get Evan’s attention. And now you weren’t sure if you still wanted Evan’s attention, because you liked how it felt to kiss Sirius.

After a few seconds, Sirius asked, “So you don’t want to leave?”

“I don’t think so…”

“You don’t think so?” You could hear the amusement in his voice.

“Shut up, Black,” you said with a hint of harshness before calming yourself. “That was just… my first… kiss…” you grumbled.

If there had been more light in that closet, Sirius would’ve been able to see how red you turned, and you would’ve seen how wide his eyes went.

“Your first? Bloody hell, I didn’t mean…”

“No, no, it’s fine.” You clicked your tongue. “More than fine, actually. I… liked… it…”

Validating Sirius was more painful than accepting that you liked kissing him. His grip on your hips tightened slightly.

“You liked it, huh? So I can do it again?”

“Please.”

It didn’t take long for you to forget about Evan. You had other things on your mind. Sirius’ lips on yours. His teeth biting your lips. His tongue inside of your mouth. Then his hands moved over your body, although never venturing under your clothing. You didn’t know what to do when his mouth left yours and he started kissing the side of your mouth, your cheek and then your jaw and your neck, continuously moving down until he found the sweet spot where your neck turned into your shoulder. His wet kisses stopped and he started sucking. With your head tilted to the side to give him better access, you realized that he was leaving marks on you. You realized that you didn’t mind.

After a while, you were both breathless and holding onto each other.

“Merlin, Malfoy… you sure I’m the first bloke you’ve kissed?” Sirius breathed.

“Positive.”

“I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t mind doing that again sometime.”

“Take me on a date first.”

“I don’t really do-”

You put a hand over his mouth to shut him up.

“I thought I was desirable? Or were you just saying that?”

He pulled your hand off of his face. “Hogsmeade then?”

“Alright then.”

Sirius unlocked the door as you adjusted your clothing to make sure you were at least presentable. You were able to slip back into the party mostly unnoticed. You grabbed a new drink from the table and decided to walk around while Sirius found his friends. Remus, James and Peter seemed very interested in why he spent so much time in the closet with you. Sirius knew he would be in for it when he told them he was going to take you on a date.

As you walked around, you saw Evan, Barty and Avery come back in from the roof. Evan shot you a bright smile, but you couldn’t bring yourself to return it. He was no longer the person you were hoping to tell your mother about. Assuming this date with Sirius went well, your mother would be hearing about him. You slammed your new drink and left the party. Parties really weren’t your scene.

tags: @navs-bhat, @bruxa0007

#marauders #marauders fic #marauder-misprint #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #request #slytherin!reader #malfoy!reader

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stele3 · 4 months ago

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Blood donations through the Red Cross: a guide

Blood drives are always going on. You can go to the Red Cross website and find one in your area.

The website sends you text reminders the day before, as well as a link to the Rapid Pass, a questionnaire that determines you eligibility.

Yes, you can give blood if you’ve had gay sex; Biden fixed that. Yes, you can give blood if you’ve got tattoos, so long as they were conducted in a licensed facility.

On the day of, you go to the drive. You need your driver’s license, which they’ll scan. If you didn’t do the Rapid Pass ahead of time, you do it there.

They then check your hematocrit — usually by pricking your finger — your blood pressure, and your temperature. You sign a form saying you understand they’re gonna test your blood for diseases and will contact you if you’ve got any.

Time for the scary part. You walk over and lie down on what looks like a massage table. They put a blood cuff around your arm and have you squeeze a squishy thing to enlarge your veins. Once they’ve found a good one, they mark it with a pen.

They apply disinfectant to the whole area.

Steps 4-7 take about half an hour.

They insert the needle, tape it to your wrist, and wait while the bag fills. The normal blood donation takes 3 units, or 3 pints. Each unit is one transfusion, which is why the Red Cross says every donation can save 1-3 lives.

How long step 9 takes depends on you. Several factors are at play: your cardiovascular fitness, your hydration level, and the size of your veins. My speed record for filling the bag is 4 minutes and 4 seconds, but I’m told that’s insanely fast. (I guzzle water the day of.)

Once you’ve filled the bag, they take the needle out, apply gauze, and tell you to hold it over your head while they secure your donation. Once they’ve done that, they wrap tape around your elbow, which is to stay in place for an hour. The gauze needs to stay in place for about 4 hours.

SNACKS.

There is a critical shortage of O type blood, both O- and O+. There is always a critical shortage of O types, because O- is the universal donor (can give to anyone). However, because of its rarity (only 7% of the population), its use is restricted to babies and pregnant people. The most common blood type used in ERs is type O+.

Yes, this has the potential to cause side effects for people who have any type of - blood. Considering the beyond-critical shortage of O- and the prevalence of + types (85% of the population) vs - types (15% of the population), ERs will usually roll the dice and give you O+ until they figure out what blood type you actually have.

IF YOU HAVE TYPE O BLOOD PLEASE DONATE. Everyone should donate but especially type O.

If you don’t know your blood type, good news! The Red Cross will tell you after you donate! That’s very useful information for you to have, and they give it to you for free.

And I mean….theoretically, you could use this process to check for blood diseases like HIV. It’s free! If you have no other way of accessing that info, the Red Cross will absolutely test your blood and alert you if you’re positive. Scratch that, irresponsible advice. Apologies!

I’m not scared of needles, but I faint at the sight of my own blood. I still go every 8 weeks, because doing so SAVES LIVES. I have donated 8 times. That means I’ve saved the lives of between 8-24 people. Can you imagine how good that feels? 8-24 people are alive because every 8 weeks I plop my ass down in a gym or church or whatever and white-knuckle my phone for 5 minutes.

50% of people are eligible to give blood but only 5% do, and that number falls to catastrophic levels among young people. Millennials and Gen Z give 40% less blood than older generations, and that’s placing us all at risk.

So if you’re in the 50% of the population who’s eligible to donate, roll your sleeves up and avert your eyes, guys. This is THE most basic form of mutual aid you can possibly do.

#mutual aid #blood donation #Red Cross

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schraubd · 1 month ago

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In Defense of Government Waste

It's a pretty common refrain, particularly among the people who have recently found themselves leopard chow: "I support cutting government waste, but ...." The "but" usually is something like ".... but my job really is valuable" or ".... but this program really is important to the community" or ".... but they're going about it all wrong." And of course, my first thought when reading that is "who supports 'government waste'?" Well, here I will. Sort of. The easiest point to make is that one person's "waste" is another person's "valuable job" or "program important to the community." How much of what people imagine to be "waste" actually is quite valuable? A lot, I'd wager. We're already seeing how frequently people could use of dose of Chesterton's fence -- the fact that they don't understand why there's a government program doing X does not mean that there is no good reason why there's a government program doing X. Bring back small-c conservatism! But I'll take a bigger swing. Let's stipulate that there is some amount of actual, undeniable government waste: money being spent inefficiently, savings that could be obtained with better processes, programs that serve no valuable purpose other than make-work, etc. I'm sure that's true. So who could oppose trying to root that undisputedly wasteful activity out? Well, I might. Might is the operative word. It depends on how much waste there is. Because ferreting out wasted dollars ... costs dollars. And runs the risk of false positives, either of which can make the "anti-waste" program end up costing more money than it saves. DOGE might end up being an example even as it took a chainsaw to a huge range of government programs. And while DOGE may be distinctive in just how idiotically it is being run, the broader principle holds: there is, in any system, some amount of inefficiency that it is paradoxically more efficient to ignore, because the time, energy, and cost of trying to uproot it will dwarf any potential savings. One area we see this a lot is in the management of entitlement programs that are "means-tested" or have other barriers and hoops to jump through for recipients to prove their eligibility. The goal is to ensure that no one who is, say, not actually poor or not actually unable to work gets a share of government money they shouldn't. But the usual result of creating these hoops is actually a large drop off in enrollment by eligible families, who find the requirements too confusing or onerous to navigate, even as it creates extra layers of bureaucracy and administration that are expensive to run. We'd almost certainly be better off just swallowing the fact that some "undeserving" people will enroll -- "waste" -- in exchange for better and more streamlined service for the people we are trying to target. It's not soft-heartedness. It's both more empathic and more efficient -- a win-win. Now again, this is dependent on how much waste we're dealing with. Where waste, fraud, and abuse are rampant, then tamping down on them probably is both necessary and cost-effective (in part because where these things are rampant, there's also a lot of low-hanging fruit that can be picked without much effort). The point, though, is that "cutting waste" isn't self-evidently a good thing; it needs to be cost-justified. And my sense is that the story of widespread of government waste is just that -- a story -- and that in most cases "anti-waste" activity does more harm than good. via The Debate Link https://ift.tt/Ss5gaUu

#big government #pork spending

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vague-humanoid · 11 months ago

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The Equitable Grading Project, a nonprofit organization that seeks to change grading practices, compared 33,000 course grades with students’ scores on standardized exams, including Advanced Placement tests and annual state assessments. The organization considered a course grade to be inaccurate if a student’s test score indicated a level of knowledge that was at least a letter grade off from what the teacher had issued. For example, a grade was classified as inaccurate if a student’s test score indicated a C-level of skills and knowledge, but the student received an A or a B in the course. In this example, a D or an F grade would also be inaccurate.

Inflated grades were more common than depressed grades. In this analysis, over 40 percent of the 33,000 grades analyzed – more than 13,000 transcript grades – were higher than they should have been, while only 16 percent or 5,300 grades were lower than they should have been. In other words, two out of five transcript grades indicated that students were more competent in the course than they actually were, while nearly one out of six grades was lower than the student’s true understanding of the course content.

The discrepancy matters, the white paper says, because inaccurate grades make it harder to figure out which students are prepared for advanced coursework or ready for college. With inflated grades, students can be promoted to difficult courses without the foundation or extra help they need to succeed. Depressed grades can discourage a student from pursuing a subject or prompt them to drop out of school altogether.

“This data suggests that hundreds, perhaps thousands, of students in this study may have been denied, or not even offered, opportunities that they were prepared and eligible for,” the white paper said.

@that-biracial-geek-girl @el-shab-hussein

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traumxrei-archive · 1 year ago

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【 prologue: rumor has it 】

summary: the heir to night raven duchy was to have their debutante soon, and their father, dire crowley, has a conversation with them.

word count: 556

author’s note: a little prologue to the series ! we have some dad!crowley in action and a bit of world building with yuu’s backstory ^^

[ the perfect debutante series | or read on ao3 (coming soon) ]

“Your debutante is soon, is it not?” The young heir looked up from their reading, watching as their adoptive father ambled closer.

“Yes it is, your grace,” The youth shut their book, a skeptical look crossing their face. Their father was known for his...eccentricities, to put it lightly. And they knew the signs of him about to drop another surprise on them if it wasn’t obvious from the grin on his face.

“Now don’t be like that, Yuu. You only call me ‘your grace’ when… Never mind,” The masked man coughed, before straightening his posture, “How about you plan your own debutante?”

And that was how all the rumors started. A maid heard from a servant who heard from a stable boy, and so on. Planning one's own debutante wasn't something that was common in the kingdom or even in the lands of Twisted Wonderland.

"It was a test," They whispered behind closed doors. "A test from the old duke to his heir, to test their mettle."

The heir to the Dukedom was, after all, adopted. Another thing that didn't happen often in the Kingdom. Duke Crowley was always the strange one, as he never married nor took any lovers in his time as Duke. All he focused on was the School he had built. “Night Raven College” named fondly after his Duchy.

Duke Crowley had adopted his heir around a decade ago. A child named Yuu, from an orphanage in the slums. It had caused ripples in society. How could it not? The mysterious masked Duke— one of the most eligible bachelors in the Kingdom— had adopted a child out of the blue.

Some people lost interest in Duke Crowley, while others found that a suitable mother figure was needed to help raise the child. But Duke Crowley never brought in such a person. After a while, the child's existence faded into the background, with other scandals drawing public interest.

Until it got out that the child started attending school at Night Raven College. It caused quite a stir. Every parent started telling their kid to befriend the heir. Who knew who could become the next right-hand to the future Night Raven Duke? And many people tried but failed in ultimately befriending the child. But well, these were stories for another time.

In reality, the Duke's motivations were not a test. It was simply a father's wish to make his child happy.

"Plan a ball and invite the people you'd like to invite," He had said simply. "I'd like to do it the way you'd like to." But no one needed to know of the tender words exchanged between family.

However, everyone's eyes would inevitably be drawn to the ball. Everyone in the Duchy knew, including the heir themself. And that also included the retinue of maids who were allied to the young heir. The maids that, rumor had it, were really the companions of the young heir's pickings. It had to be no coincidence that each and every maid hailed from Night Raven College.

The maids knew what other people were expecting. They were expecting that their Master would fail. And nothing short of perfection would do. Therefore they had devised a plan, a way to help their master reach perfection one way or another. Hence the start of “Operation: The Perfect Debutante.”

thank you for reading ^^ if you’d like to read more, check out my masterlist !

[ series post | next chapter ]

#/trau writes #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #dire crowley #twst

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reyaint · 17 days ago

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magic system dr | power classification system

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date: june 25 2025. started: 8:00pm ended: 9:20

tbh i don't like some of it and i changed some stuff in my script but i don't wanna go back and sdjdfjsndfjsnds.

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✧˖*°࿐power classification system

დ࿐ ‎˗ˋ the Power Classification System measures two core aspects of a magic user:

ꪆৎ 𓂃 › raw output (strength class) – how much mana they can generate and release. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › precision (control class) – how well they can manage, direct, and refine that power.

together, these metrics determine a person’s combat viability, professional eligibility, social status, and access to magical institutions.

✧˖*°࿐strength class — raw output

strength is determined by mana pool size, casting range, mana burst output, and resonance intensity. measured through a combination of artifact-based diagnostics and live testing under controlled conditions.

*ೃ༄F-class (spark)

"The Flicker That Never Catches" "A flicker of magic, barely more than static."

ꪆৎ 𓂃 › mana output: < 5 units ꪆৎ 𓂃 › characteristics: can barely light a candle or charm a coin. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › use cases: entertainment, street magic, minor enchantments. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › social standing: often dismissed as “non-magical” despite having an aura. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › aura types seen: mostly dull Standard or faded Deep tones. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › institutional access: few schools accept F-class unless offering special ed support. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › common in aging populations or diluted bloodlines.

*ೃ༄E-class (ember)

"The Household Flame" "Enough to warm a cup or start a light."

ꪆৎ 𓂃 › mana output: 5–20 units ꪆৎ 𓂃 › characteristics: can levitate light objects, chill drinks, warm rooms. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › use cases: domestic work, minor enchantments, child-care magic. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › social standing: seen as useful but limited. often work support roles. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › aura types seen: lower-tier Light, some stable Dark tones. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › institutional access: most inclusive schools start here. still often underestimated. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › children with E-class potential are encouraged to attend broad-scope academies. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › power cannot be weaponized in meaningful ways, but can be scaled with teamwork

*ೃ༄C-class (blaze)

"The Turning Point" "Strong enough to burn, strong enough to build."

ꪆৎ 𓂃 › mana output: 50–100 units ꪆৎ 𓂃 › characteristics: large-scale elemental manipulation, group healing, energy projection ꪆৎ 𓂃 › use cases: military squadrons, weather teams, tactical combat. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › social standing: highly respected. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › aura types seen: high-tone Darks, some Light and early Metallic. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › institutional access: some prestigious schools only accept C-class or above. but the C-class are usually support roles. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › able to affect terrain on a small scale or fight multiple enemies at once. but only a few like 2-3

*ೃ༄B-class (inferno)

"The Field Commander" "Power that bends steel and breaks stone."

ꪆৎ 𓂃 › mana output: 100–300 units ꪆৎ 𓂃 › characteristics: area-of-effect damage, magical contagions, battlefield control. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › use cases: fighting in the hollow pulse areas, squad leaders, elite healers, magical disaster responders. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › social standing: often fast-tracked into elite careers and monitored for burnout or instability. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › aura types seen: light tones with volatility, Metallics begin appearing. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › auras at this level glow brightly and can affect mana-sensitive electronics. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › most high class schools will take B-S class.

*ೃ༄A-class (conflagration)

"Cities listen when you walk in."

ꪆৎ 𓂃 › mana output: 300–800 units ꪆৎ 𓂃 › characteristics: capable of flattening buildings, manipulating leyline pulses, disrupting barriers. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › use cases: military, fighting in the hollow pulse areas, high-threat response teams, international defense, arcane research. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › social standing: often revered, feared, or politicized. (less so now though in modern day) ꪆৎ 𓂃 › aura types seen: light pastels, high-tier Iridescents and Metallics. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › many countries only allow A-Class individuals to operate under specialized licensure. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › closely monitored and often registered internationally. (kind of toned down now with the amount academies and training nowadays)

*ೃ༄S-class (cataclysm)

"One person who shifts the tide of war, or the world."

ꪆৎ 𓂃 › mana output: 800+ units ꪆৎ 𓂃 › characteristics: leyline-level scale; can affect weather, reshape terrain, or kill without contact. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › use cases: global crisis intervention, fighting in the hollow pulse areas, planetary defense, magical experimentation. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › social standing: these individuals become legends, military, leaders, or state-level assets. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › aura types seen: ꪆৎ 𓂃 › governments view them as both national treasures and potential existential threats. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › always comes with a cost: S-Class power is rarely stable at first, and many struggle with loss of control, rapid energy depletion, or magical side effects. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › most S-class start out as A-class due to aura control and strength increasing. it depends on the aura tbh.

✧˖*°࿐control classes — precision, mastery, and risk level

control classes range from Crude (1) to Transcendent (7). this measures how finely a mage can apply their power — e.g., using fire magic to boil a teacup without breaking it, or manipulate gravity in a zero-G surgical ward.

*ೃ༄crude class (class 1)

“Like giving a toddler a flamethrower.”

ꪆৎ 𓂃 › cannot direct spells accurately. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › high probability of accidental damage. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › typically needs suppression bands, handlers, or strict supervision. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › rarely permitted near children, hospitals, or sensitive sites. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › requires full-time supervision in school or field use.

*ೃ༄basic class (class 2)

“Can follow instructions, but only just.”

ꪆৎ 𓂃 › can perform simple spells with effort. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › precision is poor — targeting fails in high-stress scenarios. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › eligible for repetitive work but barred from critical environments. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › acceptable for enchanted tool use. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › can perform simple tasks like levitating an object or healing a paper cut. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › complex spells often result in backfire, fizzles, or accidents. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › acceptable for supervised environments and support work.

*ೃ༄competent class (class 3)

“You can count on them to get the job done.”

ꪆৎ 𓂃 › capable of basic to intermediate spellwork without endangering others. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › allows for solo work, minor research, or basic field assignments. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › reliable but not expert-level. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › this is the bare minimum for licensed magical operation. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › most common level for D-C class professionals. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › capable of battle support, enchanting, light shielding, and multi-target spells. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › can regulate mana burn, switch affinities mid-casting, and adjust spell strength.

*ೃ༄skilled class (class 4)

“Capable, careful, and certified.”

ꪆৎ 𓂃 › trusted with sensitive or dangerous environments. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › good reaction time, safe casting, and efficient mana flow. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › eligible for combat squads, healers, engineers, and educators. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › paired with C-Class or higher strength, this becomes elite. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › can be trusted with field command, medical triage, and real-world magical emergencies. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › can craft high-end enchantments and operate precision-based spellforms. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › required minimum level for military, hospital, or high-stakes employment.

*ೃ༄expert class (class 5)

“You don’t just cast spells — you teach others how.”

ꪆৎ 𓂃 › can teach others, redirect spells mid-air, or dispel unstable magic. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › often found in hospitals, summoning guilds, or deep-field arcana programs. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › trusted with fragile artifacts or unstable environments. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › mastery over mana modulation, feedback control, and low visibility casting. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › mentors and magical theorists often conduct research or manage advanced ritual circles. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › can micro-adjust spell matrices in real time, control mana output in chaotic settings. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › often in charge of academy-level combat exams and professional testing boards.

*ೃ༄master class (class 6)

“Surgical strikes. Single-cell accuracy.”

ꪆৎ 𓂃 › molecular-level control — can affect cells, weave magical surgery, disarm curses. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › rarely makes mistakes. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › high-end alchemists, field commanders, and historical legends reside here. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › may teach at global academies or work for world governments. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › used in arcane surgery, artifact crafting, or elite special forces. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › may be able to modify aura visibility, redirect leyline flow, or unbind spells cast by others. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › can target individual nerves, molecular bonds, or psychological frequencies.

*ೃ༄transcedent class (class 7)

“You no longer cast spells — you reshape the laws of casting.”

ꪆৎ 𓂃 › practically a different species. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › can isolate strands of reality, sculpt light, or manipulate gravity fields. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › can adjust other people’s spells mid-cast. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › less than 0.01% of magic users reach this control. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › considered walking relics — studied more than understood. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › some are banned from combat roles due to fear of magical overreach or instability. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › magic for them is intuitive — they are reality’s editors, not just users.

✧˖*°࿐combined classifications — power + control = profile

to identify and standardize mages, the system uses a hybrid format:

*ೃ༄[power class] [control class]

დ࿐ ‎˗ˋ for example:

ꪆৎ 𓂃 › B5 = inferno power with expert control ꪆৎ 𓂃 › A1 = dangerous high-power, no control ꪆৎ 𓂃 › C4 = ideal battle-mage classification ꪆৎ 𓂃 › S6 = strategic world-level mage with masterful precision ꪆৎ 𓂃 › F7 = weak output, godlike control — perfect for enchantment or restoration magic

დ࿐ ‎˗ˋ minimum standard ꪆৎ 𓂃 › most magical careers, apprenticeships, and academies require at least a C3 (blaze-level power with competent control) or higher.

*ೃ༄ideal & common combinations

ꪆৎ 𓂃 › C4 (blaze + skilled): gold standard. most urban jobs and military teams require this at minimum. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › B5 (inferno + expert): elite team leads, national-level healers, or artifact engineers. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › A6 (conflagration + master): sought after by world governments and mage-councils.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ sought after for field command, healing ops, elite guard units.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ graduates from elite academies often fall in this bracket.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ capable of scaling up or down power use while maintaining full precision.

*ೃ༄dangerous combinations

დ࿐ ‎˗ˋ A1, B1, B2: extremely powerful but dangerously uncontrolled. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › regarded as living weapons or disasters-in-waiting. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › most nations impose heavy restrictions, containment measures, or combat oversight. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › these are walking disasters. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › monitored closely or even quarantined during training. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › may be subject to emotional suppression meds, restricted casting licenses, or aura blockers.

*ೃ༄undesirable combinations

დ࿐ ‎˗ˋ F6, E6: impressive control but not enough power to be useful. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › often become teachers, researchers, or energy stabilizers. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › some feel overlooked despite mastery.

✧˖*°࿐academies and class filtering

Not all institutions treat classes equally.

*ೃ༄types of magic schools

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ universal schools: accept all types, focus on balancing power and control. often used for lower-income or regional training. take all strength/control levels (even E1s). focus on general development and talent discovery. 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ selective tier academies: only accept B–S class students. Offer fast-tracked combat, strategy, or elemental mastery programs. დ࿐ ‎˗ˋ elite power academies: only accept B-class and above, prioritizing war magic, tactical operations, or national defense. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › often take 15-year-olds with raw S-Class potential and shape them over 5 years into specialists. ꪆৎ 𓂃 › control may be undeveloped at entry, but that’s the point— they’re shaped into legends. 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ control academies: prioritize low-power, high-control users for ritual work, detail magic, and surgical arcana. 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ legacy schools: sometimes historically filtered by aura color/tone (e.g., only deep tones or metallics), though that’s seen as outdated and discriminatory now. 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָꪆৎ specialty academies: accept based on aura tone or elemental affinity, though this is increasingly rare in modern systems.

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