#actually not envious he would have to pack the entire house alone and also clean the entire house alone

[kurthorton-moving]

we get the keys to the new place tomorrow i am feeling a myriad of things

[pixiewriting]

slytherin!wonwoo x ravenclaw!you au

summary: you understood just about everyone at hogwarts, but you never seemed to be able to understand wonwoo.

genre: fluff (and a little bit of angst?)

pairing: wonwoo/you

warnings: a teeny bit of cursing, but that’s it!

word count: 11.9 k

a/n: LMFAOOOOO this is so long!! i really went in! I’m SO sorry this took so long to write, it took me a while to figure out how i wanted to end it. i hope the length of the fic makes up for how long it took me to write it jsdjkf. enjoy!!!

One of the biggest thrills in your life was when you first sat down in that wobbly wooden chair, and an old hat was placed over your head. The only thing keeping that hat from sliding all the way down your head was your ears. Your heart was beating in your chest, feeling thrill and also a little fear.

           The weight on your chest that you didn’t know was there was lifted when the old hat announced, “RAVENCLAW!”

You had heard stories from your witch mother since you grew up of Hogwarts and all her adventures she had. It sounded like a dream. And the fact that you got to go there and live your own adventures? It was incredible.

           You grinned, hopping out of the chair, and almost dancing over to your new fellow housemates. Your hands were shaking slightly in anticipation for what was to come. In the corner of your eye, a boy named Wonwoo was called up to the chair after you, and was announced to be a Slytherin. It didn’t register much with you, as your new excitement could not be hushed by much anything.

 -       5 Years Later 

Wonwoo had first noticed you when you were Sorted, and he had always seen you in the halls since. He had never plucked up the courage to have a conversation with you. He’d always just subtly watched you during Ravenclaw and Slytherin shared classes. He would glance over at you in Charms, and watched as you conjured up a simple charm that caused a smile to cross your face as your seatmate giggled. Seeing you happy like that somehow warmed his heart.

He wasn’t sure what it was about you, but maybe he was envious of how easy it was for you to be… free. How easy it was for you to be so open about your emotions. Wonwoo always found it hard to let loose, and just laugh. He had friends for sure, and they laughed together, but it only in those secluded situations he could laugh. He didn’t laugh quite as much as you did, so openly. Your eyes lit up, and you looked so happy. Did Wonwoo look happy when he laughed? He wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like he was looking in a mirror whenever he laughed.

Maybe he just found you interesting in general. You were beautiful for sure, but not in the way that caused you to be known solely for beauty. You were Ravenclaw after all, you had the brains to match. You weren’t popular, but you had a niche of friends. When Wonwoo couldn’t sleep at night, he would stare up at his curtain of bedsheets and wonder what intrigued him about you so much. It had been five years, and his attention to you had dulled to a feigned interest whenever he saw you. At this point he was used to your presence, and the mix of emotions he felt when he saw. He’d been trying to snap himself out of the habit. But another part of Wonwoo wanted to see you and talk to you and demand why you were so intriguing to him. As if you would know. Wonwoo doubted you knew he existed; he never talked much in class anyway, even though he knew all the answers. He let all the Ravenclaws answer. Some of his Slytherin classmates (like Mingyu) who knew he was actually pretty clever got angry with Wonwoo for not answering questions and giving them house points.

He sat in the Great Hall now, eating breakfast. He could see you down a way at the Ravenclaw table next to your Slytherin table. He could see your hair falling around the white button up they all had to wear, your sweater tied around your waist. It was just becoming fall, so it was becoming quite chilly, but you still had those odd days that were warm, leftover from the summer. Wonwoo leaned his chin into his hand, staring back down at his toast and jam. He had somehow made the unconscious decision that this year would be the year that he would find out what made you so compelling to him. He had enough of sitting around and just wondering. He would have to come out of his shell at least a little bit. He hadn’t the faintest idea how he would even approach you. He swallowed at the thought.

“Wonwoo, what’re you thinking about?” Wonwoo’s best friend Mingyu asked him, clapping him on the shoulder. Wonwoo had yet to tell anyone about you after these five years. It felt like a secret he needed to keep to himself.

“Oh, you know, just a book I need to read…” Wonwoo mused. It wasn’t entirely untrue. Wonwoo did have a significant pile at books sitting on his bedside table he needed to dig into. Wonwoo liked to read.

Most people assumed Wonwoo was a Slytherin at first glance because of his cold outside appearance. Wonwoo only looked cold because he was not as expressive as others. He felt it all on the inside, he just sometimes… forgot he needed to show what he felt. It was easier for him to open up and laugh when he was alone with his friends. He was more interested in being alone, and maybe reading next to the window in the dormitory, or by the lake under a tree. Maybe he was a Slytherin because of his determined attitude towards his work, and close-knit bond towards his friends, and clever way of thinking. He was almost a Ravenclaw that way.

Wonwoo rubbed the back of his neck, flickering his eyes in your direction for a moment, but saw that you were gone.

-

After 5 years of magic teaching, you found yourself in a comfortable spot. Comfortable with your peers, your environment, and your ability to learn magic. You knew yourself as one of those people who preferred familiarity, and by this fifth year, you were exactly that. Familiar.

You knew just about all the faces going down the hall – what house they were in, the group of friends they were in, their strong suits and their weaknesses, you picked up on it all over the years. Your brain analyzed information constantly, and catalogued it. It made you feel a sense of control over yourself, knowing who you were surrounded by. You were no means close with everyone, there were a few people you didn’t know in a school this big.

One person who had always stuck out to you, that you knew nothing about, was someone you had seen the day you had been Sorted. The boy that was Sorted right after you, Jeon Wonwoo. You didn’t pay him too much attention the first year, because of all the new schedules and lifestyles to get used to. By the third year, you always noticed where he was in your Slytherin/Ravenclaw classes. He was a safe distance away that you could glance at him from the corner of your eye without anyone noticing.

Wonwoo was, for lack of a better word, mysterious. He kept to himself. He never talked in class. He listened to what his seatmate Mingyu would lean over and whisper to him, and occasionally he would crack a small smile. It would last only a second, and flutter away. It was a rare occurrence, and when you did see it, you felt something inside you stir. Seeing him smile with his teeth was the rarest occurrence yet. You had only seen it once.

Maybe it was your need to unravel someone so locked up, and to analyze them – but this felt different from anyone else. It wasn’t for the inner analytical side of you. With other people, it was an unconscious habit you had picked up. You just remembered people in those ways. With Wonwoo, you were making a conscious effort to figure out what he was thinking by the way his finger twitched on his quill. You could hardly care what others were thinking, yet you ever so desperately wanted to know what was running around in Wonwoo’s mind.

You couldn’t ever tell if he knew what was happening in class and couldn’t bother to answer, or wasn’t bothering to pay attention at all and was flunking. You never heard him complain, or whoop in delight at his scores. He took all his tests carefully, and turned them in with a composed look on his face. You just wanted to break his façade. You knew there was something else there, you just had to dig down deep to find it.

You thought of a plan in the back of your head, a rather foolish one, as class ended. There was no time to tweak the plan to perfection, because It had to be done now. You took your time packing up your things, after purposefully spilling your notes out of order on the desk so you had to stop and organize them. You had noticed before Wonwoo had always took his time leaving too, he was never in a rush anywhere. You lined up your notes after almost everyone had left, and turned to leave after Wonwoo had turned to the door to leave.

You brushed his shoulder as you headed through the doorway, and dropped your quill and ink, shattering the ink bottle. “Shit,” you muttered, bending down immediately to do a charm to repair the bottle and clean the spilled ink. “Sorry, Wonwoo, did I get any ink on you?” you asked, getting back up, and stuffing your quill and ink into your bag. He looked a little stunned that you were speaking to him. The two of you had never had a conversation before.

He shook his head. “N-no. You didn’t.” His voice was much deeper than you would have imagined it to be. You were caught off guard for a moment, but then registered the tone of his voice in your mind. It was a very distinct, husky tone that made you feel like he was speaking only to you. He looked unsettled, and his eyes were looking either at the wall beside you, your feet, his feet, or above your head.

“Thank god,” you grinned. “I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot.” He finally met your eyes as you grinned. You thought you saw the corner of his mouth twitch, but he didn’t smile. “Are you excited for the game tonight? Our houses are facing off!” you asked, searching for a simple conversation. You just wanted to hear him say something else, or smile, or something.

           “I might meet my friends down there.” He admitted after a moment. His deep voice surprised you again. It felt like he was telling you a secret. He shifted the rounded metal frame glasses on his nose. The mention of his friends made you remember his niche. You knew of all those boys (especially the ones that were your fellow housemates), but frustratingly enough, out of that niche, he was the only one you had no clue about.

           You nodded. “I’ll be there too. I have friends on both teams I have to go support. Maybe I’ll see you there?” you said hopefully at the end.

           You thought you saw him swallow. “Maybe,” he agreed. He was searching your face and expression, shifting from one foot to another like he was shy or uncomfortable, but he didn’t look like he wanted you to leave. It was curious.

           “Okay well, promise me you won’t rub it in my face if Slytherin wins, and I won’t rub it in your face if Ravenclaw wins.”

           He looked surprised. “I would never rub that in your face.”

           His honest reply caught you off guard. You blinked a few times, and then pulled your hair around your ears, to fix the fiddling of your fingers at your sudden shyness. “I-I know. You don’t seem the type to do that. I was kidding.“ It was your turn to be slightly bashful now. Wonwoo didn’t seem to notice that his honest comment had surprised you. Normally you were on the side of confidence – you trusted your knowledge, but he had just thrown you off your guard.

           He searched for something else to say, and as he opened his mouth, one of his friends, Soonyoung, was yelling his name from across the hall, and running towards him. “I’ll, uh, see you later, Wonwoo.” You said, eyeing Soonyoung warily, and turning to walk away.

           “Bye,” Wonwoo said hoarsely after you quietly.

           You shook your head as you walked, going over the conversation in your head again and again. You thought about the way his mouth had twitched. The way his hair was falling over his forehead. You nulled over his simple responses, trying to unravel them. You pushed your sleeves up, going back to your dormitory.

           - 

           Wonwoo was in shock. He had just had his first conversation with you, and he had not expected it at all. He was surprised you had known his name. You caught him off guard in every aspect. You were someone to get used to, as you were quite different from all his friends. But that wasn’t bad, it just kept him wanting to see you more, and learn about all your little habits and quirks that made you so different.

           Wonwoo tried to keep up with what Soonyoung was saying, but all he could think about was your voice in his mind.

           “Wonwoo, you’re going to the game, right? Wonwoo? We have to support Mingyu on the field.” Soonyoung groaned, shaking his shoulder. Wonwoo snapped out of his reverie.

           “Yeah, of course I am. I wouldn’t miss a game with you guys. Mingyu would skin me if I missed a game of his.” Wonwoo wouldn’t admit he was a bit more excited for this game, for the chance that he might see you again. He was also a bit scared he might see you again; what would he even say to you? Would he doom the conversation with his awkward tendencies?

           “Good,” Soonyoung sighed in relief. “You need a break from all those books.”

           Wonwoo rolled his eyes.

           -

           After classes ended, you hurried down the path to the Quidditch stadium, heart thumping in your chest. You weren’t sure if it was because of the excitement of the game, or the possibility of seeing mystery man Wonwoo that was skyrocketing your heartrate up.

           You thought that maybe after talking to Wonwoo once or twice, it would solve your curiosity, but so far, your curiosity was far from being cured. You just wanted to know him, genuinely.

           Your long walk was yet from being over as you approached the stadium, starting your descent up the many cases of stairs to the seats. You held your sketchbook tightly in your hand, knowing you might sketch at the lake after the game like you often did. After finding your friends, you sat down, tossing your Ravenclaw scarf over your shoulder. You looked down at the field, watching the players congregate. You waved to your friend on the Ravenclaw team, and then waved at your friend on the Slytherin team.

           About halfway through the game, when you glanced up at chance, you spotted him in the crowd, but mostly because his niche was a sight to see. After spotting Soonyoung’s dancing and cheering figure, you saw Wonwoo sitting next to him, looking on the game with a faraway interest. The little voice in your mind noticed he looked cute, his Slytherin scarf wrapped around his neck as the fall breeze blew all around him, his hair whipping across his face in what seemed like slow motion, his glasses set low on his nose. He looked so tiny. You sighed, forcing your gaze to rip away. Why would you notice those things about him?

           As the game ended, you were whooping in glee, absorbed in the game as your friend on the Ravenclaw swooped in to grab the snitch and snag the game in favor for Ravenclaw. She always approached games with a calm and collected mindset, and analyzed the game in amazing ways while searching for the snitch.

           You didn’t like big crowds, so you left before everyone started piling out, headed towards the lake with your sketchbook in your hands. You sat down against the trunk of a big tree, and pulled your pencil out of the pocket of your robe. You stared at the blank paper aimlessly. You decided instead on sketching some of the merpeople sitting just below the surface of the lake, watching everyone leave the stadium. A sudden gasp of, “Oh!” surprised you, causing you to jolt and drop your sketchbook, hand over your chest. You glanced around at the source of the sound, finding Wonwoo standing twenty feet away, a book in his hands.

           “You surprised me.” You said, voice a bit higher than usual from surprise. He scratched the back of his neck. “Do you come here after games too?”

           “I come here to read sometimes.” Wonwoo admitted. That was something you didn’t know about him. He liked to read…

           “Well, here, come sit. The tree is big enough for the both of us.” You said gently. You were afraid he might fly away if you made any sudden moves.

Wonwoo seemed to think about it for a moment, and then gave in and sat down next to you, though keeping a safe distance. He held the book over his knees. He seemed to tower over you, even when you two were sitting. You picked your sketchbook off the ground, and frowned slightly at the now stained paper, and dusted off the grass and dirt. You sighed, placing the sketchbook back on your knees. It wasn’t an amazing sketch, but you were disappointed to see it ruined.

           “Oh no,” Wonwoo suddenly said, glancing at your stained drawing. “Did that happen when you dropped it?” he pulled his wand out of his pocket. “Here, I use this charm a lot to clean the pages of my books after spilling coffee on them.” He motioned to your paper. “Do you mind?”

           “No, go ahead.” You said, slightly in shock. You were used to few word, emotionless responses from him. You could feel the remorse in his voice at the sight of your ruined sketch. He murmured out a spell, and you watched the stain slowly sink back, and disappear, leaving your drawing intact as it was before. “Wow, thanks Wonwoo!” you smiled thankfully, looking up at him. It took him a moment, but he slowly matched your smile with a small grin, and said back a you’re welcome quietly. You felt your heart hammering in your chest at the sight of his grin.

           You looked down at your sketch, grinning slightly to yourself. Your pencil scratched across the paper again, and you heard the sound of the pages of Wonwoo’s book rustling as he opened to the page where he last left off. The two of you sat in silence for a while, just the sounds of pencil and paper breaking the silence. You were afraid to ask him about himself, in case he might clam up and not mutter a word. You weren’t sure where the lines were here, yet. Right now, you were acquaintances. Classmates.

           The only thing you managed to ask Wonwoo was what book he was reading. When the sun started to set, you gathered your things. Wonwoo closed his book, and stared at the setting sun over the lake. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, and saw his expression. It wasn’t emotionless per se, it was… peaceful.

           Sitting like this, you suddenly realized, you did know him a bit better than you thought. His quietness was not a lack of knowing him, it was everything about him. It was a huge part of his personality. You just had to figure out why he was so quiet.

           You reluctantly got up, put your sketchbook under your arm, and dusted the dirt off your robe halfheartedly. “I should get back before it’s dark.” You explained. “I hope I see you around again, Wonwoo.” You said tentatively.

           He got up after your words, and gently took your book from your arm, and stacking it under his. “I’ll walk you back to the castle, Y/N.” His deep voice was shy, and unsure what you would say.

           “Oh,” you blinked, surprised. “Thanks, Wonwoo.” It was the first time you had heard him call you by your name. Your name felt different on his lips, but you couldn’t put your finger on what it was.

           You wordlessly walked back to the castle, trudging up the long path. You weren’t sure what to do with your hands, without your sketchbook in them. You stuck them in the pockets of your robe instead. The two of you got into the castle, and stopped right before you had to part ways. You had to go up to the Ravenclaw tower, and Wonwoo would have to retreat to the Slytherin dungeon. Wonwoo handed you your sketchbook wordlessly, and nodded in your direction before heading down the stairs.

           You watched him retreat a bit breathlessly. You shook your head, and headed up to the tower, words spinning in your head. When you got back to your dorm, you pushed aside your cluttered thoughts to congratulate your friend who had caught the snitch. She was beaming with excitement. As you slumped back to your bed, you drew the curtains around you, just wanting to be alone.

           -

           Wonwoo’s hands were shaking as soon as he turned his back on you and headed to the Slytherin dungeon. When he sat down in one of the big armchairs, he stared aimlessly into the flames, book sitting haphazardly on his lap. His mind was whirring like gears. He was breaking down your responses, and actions like clockwork. What was it about you? He pulled the scarf from his neck harshly, slightly frustrated.

           Someone came into view next to him. He looked up to see Minghao sliding calmly into the nearest armchair, one earbud in his ear, the other falling over his shoulder. Minghao was one person he felt comfortable around, not pressured to blab on about something just to fill the silence. Minghao stared at the fireplace and Wonwoo followed his gaze back to the flickering bursts of red and orange color, occasionally turning green to support the house color. Wonwoo wished it would stay red and orange. The green looked too unnatural and harsh in the cold dungeon.

           “Do you want to talk about it?” Minghao asked simply.

           Wonwoo rubbed his finger on his lip, contemplating if it would be nice to spill your existence to someone else after all these years. Minghao wasn’t one to blab. But, Wonwoo also didn’t know what he would say. It almost sounded creepy, and aimless. He just watched you for five years, and didn’t have the courage to say anything, and now you’ve had your first conversation? “Not now.” Wonwoo finally said. He knew it would have to come out eventually, but Wonwoo would rather have a better grasp on things before the words left the safe place of his mind. It would feel too real if it was spoken aloud.

           - 

           A few days after the Slytherin/Ravenclaw Quidditch match, you were hurrying to finish an essay for your History of Magic class over merpeople. You had a textbook to help, but you figured sitting by the merpeople at the lake might give you some inspiration and help. You walked down to the lake, to sit at the trunk of your favorite willow tree. As you got closer to the tree you gasped quietly in shock, as having found him napping under the willow tree, shade falling over his face. Wonwoo was asleep in the afternoon sun. You ingrained the image in your mind, for lack of a camera. He didn’t look so cold, sleeping like this. He didn’t have his walls up. His face was slack, lips slightly parted, glasses askew on his nose. He sensed someone in front of him, and jolted out of his nap. He was surprised to see you, but after seeing your weak wave, he recovered his shocked expression to emotionless and cold again. You were slightly hurt at the cold look on his face, when he suddenly moved his bag wordlessly and waved at the ground next to him, a sign you took for sitting next to him. He didn’t object when you sat down next to him and pulled out the merpeople essay you needed to write. He gave you the quiet and peace you needed to get to work. You glanced over at him again after writing for a good hour, and saw him lightly snoozing again. You smiled to yourself, and turned back to the essay. A feeling in your chest made your heart ache, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Familiarity?

The two of you continued to meet by that willow tree in front of the lake again and again. You were meeting there by chance first, and the two of you sat side by side under the tree, either reading, drawing, or doing homework. Some small talk had been made. You did most of the talking. You tried to not talk too much, because you enjoyed your peace and quiet too, but there were some days when you couldn’t help but complain about homework or gush about a book you were reading. He wouldn’t talk much, but the look on his face when he listened to you made you know he was listening very intently, taking every word in. Some days when the two of you met, you didn’t have anything to do, so you sat in silence and you filled the empty silence with a light conversation. The two of you sat about a foot away from each other in the beginning, but it had gradually turned into half a foot. Wonwoo wouldn’t reach much closer than that. It began a habit, where you two had wordlessly agreed to meet on Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday evenings.

           One Wednesday evening, a few weeks into meeting Wonwoo under this willow tree, you built up the courage to ask him something. “Wonwoo,” you said, breaking the comfortable and familiar silence. He hummed out a “Hmm?” quietly, not looking up from his book.  

           Your heart was thumping. All you wanted to do was ask him a simple question, that might tell you something about him, but it was spiraling you into anxiety in fear that you might be rejected. “Why do you never talk in class? From what I can tell, you know what you’re doing.” You asked, trying to calm your racing heart.

           He paused, trying to string together an answer. He looked up to stare across the lake. “I don’t talk much in general. Even when I’m with my friends, they do most of the talking. I just listen.” He squinted against the suddenly bright sun and scrunched his nose up. The sun fell back behind the clouds as quickly as it came out behind them. He glanced back down at the pages of his book. “I don’t feel a need to prove my worth in front of others. The professor knows that I do well, and that’s what matters to me.” He said quietly.

           You were relieved he had opened up a bit to you. But, you couldn’t help but wonder if that was a jab at you, for answering questions in class. Did you have a need to prove yourself to others? You pondered on it. It had just seemed like a simple thing to do. If you know the answer, raise your hand. You never felt like you were doing it to show others you were smart. You were in Ravenclaw for a reason. Right? You scratched your chin worriedly, wondering if others saw you as a goody-two-shoes Ravenclaw who just wants to prove they’re a smart ass. That’s how most people portrayed Ravenclaw, anyway. Every house has their stereotype. You sighed inaudibly, trying to diffuse the sudden self-conscious flood of thoughts. You fiddled with your shoelaces, trying not to show the slight hurt you felt at his probable unintentional jab.

           He might have sensed your hurt at your bowed head, because he added, “Sometimes I wish I had the confidence to raise my hand sometimes, like you do. I’ve spent five years not talking in class, it’s hard to break the habit now.” That made you feel a little better.

           “Are you not confident?” You asked, not daring to peek up at him, and instead retying your shoelace.

           “I’m confident on my own. I don’t know how to be confident in front of others. They don’t know me like I know me.” He sighed, leaning back against the trunk of the tree. He was revealing more about himself in the span of five minutes than he had in the weeks you had been noncommittally hanging out.

           “Maybe that’s because you don’t let people get to know you.” You said without thinking. You regretted it as soon as the words left your mouth. You waited for him to say something, and he didn’t. You bit your lip and shut your eyes tight at his silence. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

           “No, you’re right.” Wonwoo said, stopping you. You willed yourself to look at him. He was staring out at the lake, watching various fish pop out of the water, only to be snatched by something and drug back under. “I make it hard for people to get to know me. I know that. It’s just not my personality to be social and friendly.”

           “What about your group of friends? Are you open with them?” you asked curiously.

           “My friends…” He furrowed his eyebrows. “It depends on the person, and the situation. On better days, I find myself laughing freely and being talkative. On days when I want to be alone, I just listen.”

           You nodded, looking back down at your essay. “Are there days when we meet up that you just want to be alone? Is that why you just listen?”

Wonwoo shook his head. “You don’t pester and annoy me like Soonyoung or Mingyu does. You’re just…” he searched for the right word. “Nice to be around.” He finished, blushing softly. You tried to hide your small grin by scratching your nose. So, you didn’t annoy him. That was comforting.

You weren’t sure if you could push any further with Wonwoo tonight, but you decided to ask him one more question. “Wonwoo, are we friends?” you asked, setting down your quill and looking his way.

           He looked surprised at your question, and stared at the grass for a moment before meeting your eyes. “I suppose we are,” Wonwoo paused briefly. “Friends.” He looked away again. He could barely look you in the eyes for longer than a few seconds.

           You nodded, and picking up your quill again to scratch out a few more sentences on your homework. Nothing else needed to be said. 

           -

           Wonwoo found himself looking forward to the evenings when the two of you met. Wonwoo wasn’t sure if he would ever figure out why you were so interesting, but he did know that for some reason, he enjoyed hearing you speak in your soft tone, when you did break the silence. Wonwoo could tell you were afraid to ask him things. That made him sort of sad, but he didn’t blame you. Wonwoo hadn’t opened up to anyone outside his friends in a long time. His cold appearance didn’t help anything.

           Wonwoo found it easier to open up to you, slowly, piece by piece. You didn’t rush him, and he appreciated it more than he could put into words. He wasn’t sure where it would lead to, but he would cross that bridge when he came to it. For now, you were friends.

           He picked at his oatmeal, while Mingyu sat silently next to him, reading the paper. “So, when are you going to tell me what’s been going on with you?” Mingyu asked.  Wonwoo looked up at him in alarm. Mingyu sighed. “I’m your best friend. I know you better than anyone. You think I haven’t noticed you sneaking off in the evenings? You think I haven’t known about that girl since fourth year?”

           Wonwoo gasped. “What?” He knew about you for a whole year? And didn’t say anything?

           Mingyu shook his head. “I was waiting for you to tell me about it before I said anything, but you’re clearly talking to her now after all these years. I  can’t stand you not telling me about it. It’s gotta be eating you up inside, I know you.”

           Wonwoo stared at him in shock. “I- how did you- what?” He sputtered. His cheeks were flaming.

           “None of the other guys have noticed, don’t worry.” Wonwoo calmed down slightly. “I just started noticing here and there during third year that you would look over at her during class. You never spoke a word to her, but you never payed anyone attention like you payed attention to her. It was very subtle, though. It took me ‘till fourth year to realize after that.” Wonwoo bored holes into his breakfast in embarrassment. Mingyu folded the paper up, setting it on the table. He placed his hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder in familiar reassurance. “What’s going on, Wonwoo?”

           Wonwoo sighed heavily, giving up. He murmured out everything quietly to Mingyu, words spilling out like vomit. He had been dying to tell someone, without realizing it. Mingyu nodded and stayed quiet, for once not teasing him. Mingyu did know him better than anyone else. He could tell you were important to him, for some reason. It was rare to see Wonwoo opening up to others, and he was opening up to you, which was saying something. Mingyu knew that. After everything had been said, Mingyu chuckled. “I knew you were dying to get it off your chest.” Wonwoo could tell Mingyu had a million things to say, but he was keeping them to himself.

           “Just don’t tell the guys, okay?”

           Mingyu rolled his eyes. “I won’t, I promise.”

           “I’ll jinx your legs together if you do.” Wonwoo paused. “If you say anything to them…”

           “Wonwoo, I won’t.”

           “…Okay.”

           -

           You were hard at work studying for an upcoming exam in the library. You were attempting to stuff as many facts into your head as you possibly could, poring over your textbooks. You’d made a mental note to go out to the willow tree at 4:30, to say hello briefly. You weren’t sure how much longer you and Wonwoo would continue to meet outside; the air was getting frigid, and the wind biting. But you also couldn’t imagine meeting him anywhere else. The willow tree was private. You didn’t have to sit under the prying eyes of your peers. If you and Wonwoo had to start meeting in the school, you weren’t even sure if Wonwoo would want to, in front of all his schoolmates. He was a private person. You stared out the window, trying to get the willow tree in view.

           Your thoughts were silenced when a familiar figure set his books down in front of you. Wonwoo wordlessly spread his books out, and began studying for his exam. You realized it was the same exam you were studying for. You were amazed at how he seemed to figure out you were here. And he looked around for you at the tables, too. And just like that, the setting changed from the willow tree to the library. It was peaceful at first, but you couldn’t talk in the library, or the librarian would stare daggers into you. After a few short quiet weeks of the library, you couldn’t stand it much longer began to search for a new spot. Silence with Wonwoo made it feel like he might be drifting from you again. You needed to be able to speak to him a little, at least. The common room in your dorm would be the ideal spot, but Wonwoo wasn’t a Ravenclaw. That’s when it suddenly hit you. Only a few really knew about it, but after doing some extensive research on Hogwarts, the Room of Requirement came to your knowledge. You had visited it once, but hadn’t needed anything from it after that. Now, you needed it.

           One day when you and Wonwoo were leaving the library, you tugged at Wonwoo’s elbow. He jerked in surprise, but allowed you to pull him in the direction of the Room of Requirement. “Where are we going?” He asked, after you had released his elbow and he followed beside you obediently.

           “Somewhere we can meet other than in silence the library.”

           He raised his eyebrows slightly in interest. When you arrived, you gestured to the blank wall. “The Room of Requirement.” He looked at the blank wall, and back at you, clearly confused. You laughed quietly behind your hand, before explaining the room.  You paced in front of the wall, shutting your eyes and hoping for the door to appear. When you opened your eyes, it was there. You grinned at Wonwoo, who was staring at the door in shock. “Come on,” you said, pulling his elbow again towards the door.

           The room of requirement was set up like a dormitory common room just like you imagined, but there were no house specific colors. Just a loveseat, some armchairs, a warm fireplace, and a window to the outside. The warm was warm, the fire casting shadows around the room. A bookshelf was sitting snug against the wall. A table with a chess board on it sat under the window, two seats opposite of each other.

           “This is… amazing?” Wonwoo’s voice tilted up in a question. “I never knew this existed!” he looked amazed, and a little excited, like a little kid. Your heart warmed.

           “I haven’t had a need for it, until now.” You admitted shyly. Wonwoo wasn’t fazed by your shy confession, he was staring at the room in awe. “Well, I actually have to go. I promised my friend I would help her for the test tomorrow. I’ll see you soon.”

           Wonwoo looked back at you and nodded, waving his hand in a goodbye. You waved back, before slipping through the door and back up to your dormitory.

           -

           Wonwoo wasn’t sure if he would be able to open up the Room himself the next time he came by, or if it would look like the same room, but he managed to open it up without error. He waited in one of the armchairs in front of the fire, thinking about how much warmer this common room was compared to his down in the dungeons. He wondered if this was how the other common rooms were, and felt a bit scammed.

           He jumped when the door suddenly opened, but played it off and stared down at the open book in his lap. Your steps in the room first sounded hesitant, but then became more confident. He wondered if you were still uneasy, but masking it with a sense of false confidence. You sat down in the other armchair, huffing out a breath. “It’s a hike here.” You said. The loveseat sat silently between the armchairs, unoccupied, seeming enormously large. It was like the room was teasing you.

           Wonwoo cracked a smile, but didn’t look up. He could feel your anxiousness. This room was small and cozy, just for the two of you. It was more secluded and private than the willow tree and the library, and it was personal. It was a new dynamic on your relationship, almost. He would have to say or do something to lighten up the atmosphere for your nervousness. He was a bit nervous, himself. He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t.

           “Everything is a hike for me from the dungeon.” He glanced up at you. You seemed to sink into the cushions in relief at his mildly friendly and open tone.

           “How is the dungeon anyway? Isn’t it cold? I’ve always wondered.” You asked. Wonwoo realized how much he had missed listening to your voice and always tentative questions, after two weeks of sitting in silence in the library.

           Wonwoo shut his book, and crossed his leg. “Not really. Not physically, anyway. Sometimes the atmosphere of people is cold. The way the room is set up doesn’t feel too warm either. Whenever the fires turn green it feels cold to me too.”

           His last sentence caught your attention. “Your guys’ fires are green?”

           Wonwoo grimaced. “Only sometimes. I don’t like it. It’s too unnatural.”

           You shook your head in disbelief. Wonwoo could feel a smile tugging at his lips, amused at your shock. “Well, it is Hogwarts, I suppose. Can’t rule anything out. Not even green fireplaces.” You paused, realizing something. “What the hell, I wish our fireplaces were blue or something. I mean, fire can be naturally blue sometimes if it gets too hot, but that’s not the same.” You whined.

           At your words, the fireplace in the Room of Requirement burned up into blue, casting a blue tint over the room. You both stared at the fireplace in shock, until you erupted into never ending giggles. Wonwoo smiled, until he found himself giggling quietly with you. Your laugh was infectious. Wonwoo could tell you were surprised to hear his laugh, but you didn’t comment on it. You both just let the quiet laughter flow freely. “I guess you’re right, it is kinda unnatural. We both look like Smurfs now with the blue reflecting on us.” You said, rubbing your chin.

           This comment caused a loud laugh to boom from Wonwoo, something he hadn’t heard in a long time. His nose scrunched up, and his eyes squeezed tight. The feeling was indescribable. Warmth spread from his chest to his fingertips and toes, and a tingle went down his spine, feeling your gaze on him. Wonwoo felt it. He felt free. He felt happy, just in this small moment.

           The room fell into a comfortable silence, the only sound being the now corrected red flames cracking through the logs. Wonwoo sighed, the feeling slipping away as quickly as it came. Eventually, you both pulled out your materials again, one of you reading and one of you drawing.

           Wonwoo paused after around an hour of quiet work, and glanced your way. You were sitting sideways on the armchair, legs over the side, facing your way. You were scribbling onto the paper, eyes darting all around the paper. “What are you drawing?” Wonwoo asked. He hadn’t asked you that yet, after all this time. Most of the time he could see what you were drawing, but he couldn’t see what was on your paper now.

           Your cheeks flared up in red. “It’s nothing.”

           Your flustered appearance sparked curiosity in him. “What is it?” He asked again, standing up a little to see what was on your paper. You clutched it close to your chest. You looked a little alarmed, like you were caught doing something you shouldn’t have. Wonwoo got up walk to you, reaching over to try to make a grab for the sketchbook.

           You gasped in shock, swinging your legs over the side and jumping up, sketchbook close to your chest. “Never try to grab someone’s sketchbook, Wonwoo!” You looked panicked, like this action was something that hit a little close to home.

           Wonwoo immediately felt guilty. He hung his head, and sat in the nearest seat, which happened to be the loveseat. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just always like to see what you’re doing. You’re very talented.” He said honestly. He pushed his hair off his forehead in frustration. His words never came out like he wanted them to.

           You softened up, loosening your stunned pose. You shifted on your feet, biting your lip as you considered something. “It’s embarrassing.” You said finally, exasperated.

           Wonwoo shook his head. “I wouldn’t think that.” You looked unconvinced. “Please? You don’t have to show me, but I would like to see it. If you’re okay with it.” He said carefully.

           You groaned. “Okay, fine. Just don’t make fun of me, please.”

           Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “Have I ever made fun of you?”

           “Um, yeah. Remember when I didn’t realize I had gotten jam all over my shirt?”

           “Okay, but other than that-”

           You put your hand on your hip, taking on a pose of power. “The more you open up to me, the more you make fun of me!” you tried to act angry, but at this point of your friendship, Wonwoo knew you weren’t. Your smile cracked through your fake frown.

           “Don’t pretend like you don’t make fun of me too!” Wonwoo said, wagging a finger at you. The fun teasing was easy, and eased the awkward tension in the room that was there when you both first entered.

           You pursed your lips, suddenly at a loss for words. “Okay, we’re even I guess.” You allowed yourself to sit in the armchair by Wonwoo, who was perched at the edge of the loveseat. Wonwoo watched you carefully. Your cheeks were slightly flushed from that sudden outburst, and your hair styled away from your face, behind your ears, so he could see the red tips of your ears from your embarrassment. Your school robe was draped on the back of the armchair, and one of your socks was falling down. He wanted to tell you, but he couldn’t find the words.

           You sighed once more, and met Wonwoo’s eyes. His heartbeat quickened at the captivating color of your eyes shyly meeting his. Usually you were so confident, and strong. Sometimes it was intimidating. It didn’t set him off, just… made him shyer, because he didn’t know how to match your confidence. Seeing you shy made Wonwoo feel you were more on his level. You weren’t as grown up as you made yourself seem.  “Well, I wanted to do some figure practice, so I needed something to model off of.” Wonwoo was confused. What was embarrassing about that? “But, you were the only figure in the room so…” your voice trailed off quietly. “I was drawing you.” You admitted.

           Wonwoo blinked a few times, processing what you had said. You were drawing… him? You shyly lifted the sketchbook away from your chest, and handed it to him. Wonwoo took it from you with ever so slightly shaking hands. His eyes poured over the drawing, taking in every detail. He was in awe. Some parts were not as detailed, but special attention was put to the features on his face, such as the set of his lips and his glasses on his nose. Wonwoo brushed the smooth paper very softly with his thumb. He looked up at you. You were staring pointedly at your hands sitting in your lap, limp.

           Every fiber in his body drew his hand to grab yours, gently. You jumped at the sudden- and first- hand contact. You stared down at his hand over yours before glancing up at the sound of his voice. “Y/N, how could you be embarrassed to show me this? It’s so amazing. It looks just like me.” You seemed to relax, and Wonwoo realized his hand was still over yours. He withdrew it, his turn to be embarrassed. He handed the sketchbook back to you.

           “I dunno it just feels… personal.” You said, biting your thumb nail.

           “We’re close friends, aren’t we?” Wonwoo countered.

           “I guess you’re right.” You admitted. You stared holes into the drawing. “Are you sure it looks like you? I can’t seem to get your nose right. Also, your hands look too big on the book…” you mused.

           Wonwoo chuckled. “I have big hands, it’s probably accurate.” He held up his hands. “See?”

           “Woah,” you said, examining his hands. “I guess the proportions are right then.” You mused. Wonwoo realized he was still sitting on the edge of the loveseat, very close to your armchair. He got up to retreat back to his armchair and pick up his book. It was a habit, to keep a distance. He almost couldn’t believe he had grabbed your hand in reassurance. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d held someone’s hand.

           As Wonwoo opened his book again, he sensed you ducking down to overanalyze your drawing. “Don’t be too critical of yourself. It looks great.” He paused. “Also, I don’t mind if you need to use me for figure practice again. You won’t embarrass me.” He said nonchalantly as he flipped a page in his book.

           Wonwoo saw you grinning in his direction from the corner of his eyes in thanks.

           -

           As much as you began to love being around Wonwoo, you couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Yes, he had opened up to you, but ever so slightly. You were one of the only friends he had out of his friend group, you knew. But you couldn’t ever get rid of the sinking feeling that you were annoying him. You talked too much, and he didn’t talk much. You knew that just wasn’t his personality, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he just wasn’t comfortable around you and that’s why he wasn’t more animated. After all this time you had spent together, you had wished that he would be comfortable around you. You were sure as hell comfortable around him. Yes, he smiled more, but that rare occurrence of his booming laugh had yet to make an appearance since you heard it for the first time in front of the blue fire. He had almost looked… sad after he laughed like that. You could never forget the way his nose scrunched up, and his eyes squeezed tight as he laughed. After he had let loose for that one moment, you felt like you were seeing his walls slowly come back up. It was so frustrating.

           And, he never talked to you outside the Room. He’d nod in your direction if he passed you on his way to his seat in Charms, but he’d never ask you how your day went. Sometimes you wished that he would ask you about yourself, so you wouldn’t have to feel bad about talking about yourself all the time. At least if he asked, you would know he was interested. You were crossing into dangerous waters, which were full of uncertainty and analyzation. You should’ve just ignored it and took your time to get to know him, but dammit, it had been three months! It was winter now, and a whole season of time had passed while you had tried to get to know him. Yes, you knew his favorite book and that he struggled to express emotion, but what about how his favorite book made him feel? Why does he struggle with expression? Does he know it himself?

           You hugged your scarf closer around your face, the wind biting and rough. The snow was falling slowly, covering the path in front of you in white. The way to Hogsmead was not always easy. All you wanted was a Butterbeer, and to sit in front of the Shrieking Shack and have an existential crisis. You hurried into the Three Broomsticks, and took your time sitting and sipping your Butterbeer. You saw your friend Hani, who slid into the seat next to you and captivated you in conversation. You almost snorted out your Butterbeer when she did her impression of the History of Magic ghost professor.

           After Hani was pulled away by her friends to the candy shop, you went outside to head over to the Shrieking Shack. You walked down the busy street, when some familiar loud booming laughs caught your attention. Wonwoo’s group of friends was talking very animatedly on the street in front of the candy shop. You spotted Wonwoo, and reached up to wave and smile as he looked your way and caught your eyes. As soon as he saw your wave, he turned away immediately, and brought his scarf up higher around his face. He turned to go into the shop, and the others followed him.

           A hot feeling hit your chest, and your fears and anxieties you had been feeling today skyrocketed. He had just ignored you, and gotten away from you as fast as possible. Was he that embarrassed that he was friends with you that his friends couldn’t know about it? You had been friends for a few months now. If he was that embarrassed, why bother being friends with you? You hadn’t really told any of your friends you’d been hanging out with Wonwoo because you knew Wonwoo didn’t like the eye of the public, and him being friends with you might spark an interest in others. You huffed, biting you lip as you forced back the sudden stinging tears. You didn’t care if others were curious, you were proud to be Wonwoo’s friend and to be one of the few people he talked to. You were hurt and angry he didn’t feel the same.

           You hurried away down the path to the Shrieking Shack, needing a place to be alone more than anything else. As you entered through the forest path into the clearing, you muttered out a heating spell to disperse the snow and sat down harshly on the newly cleaned bench. The Shrieking Shack sat lonely out in the distance, snow covering the roof. You at first sat rigid, a hard expression covering your face, staring out at the house. Suddenly, as if a bottle inside of you had burst off its cap, tears were steadily streaming down your face.

           Why did you care so much about Wonwoo? He hardly ever showed you that he really cared about you. You had been shocked to your core when he had grabbed your hand, but he had immediately retreated afterwards, like he regretted doing it. You sniffed loudly, and crossed your arms. Like a little kid, you kicked at the snow and watched it fly, or soak into your jeans. It was cold, but the heat you felt in your face and chest made you feel like you might had been burning.

           You wiped the tears off pathetically, knowing that mascara was smeared under your eyes. You didn’t know a spell for fixing makeup. You let out a small yell in anger, and rubbed under your eyes with your glove, trying to wipe off your mascara. The glove just irritated your skin and just made the skin around your eyes more red. You sighed, giving up, and pulled your hat farther down your face half-heartedly. You got up to the fence, and leaned your arms on it to look down at the landscape. You took off your glove to grab some snow, let it melt in your fingers, and rubbed it under your eye to try one last time to get the mascara off. You didn’t want everyone to know you’d been crying over a guy that didn’t want to admit you existed to others. You felt satisfied the mascara was now gone, but there was no cure for your puffy and red eyes.

           You were finally starting to forget about why you were crying, and just stared upon the Shrieking Shack with a numbness in your toes and fingertips. You had forgotten to pull your glove back on, and your hand was going increasingly numb with the chilly air and snow under your fingers. You sighed, the discomfort becoming a bit too much, and reached for your glove. Your hands found nothing. You looked down in alarm, searching everywhere. It was nowhere to be found. You stomped your feet in frustration, and grabbed your wand.

           “Accio glove!”

           You waited for the material to fly into your hands, but it wasn’t coming. You looked down into the sloped hill of trees below you, and your eye was caught by a material tugging at the branches of a tree. It was your glove, stuck. You groaned. It was lost now. No getting it back. The trees were hopelessly out of reach and your spells weren’t working. You shook your hand out, and blew hot air on it.

           Suddenly, booming voice were entering the clearing behind you. You whipped around in alarm, and saw the people you wanted to see least in this world. Wonwoo’s friends were coming into the clearing, clearly looking to start a snowball fight with one another. Wonwoo didn’t notice you at first, his hands in his pockets and head lowered, watching where he was walking, until one of your fellow Ravenclaws, Jeonghan, shouted out your name enthusiastically, causing Wonwoo’s eyes to shoot in your direction. You smiled as Jeonghan jogged up to you. You could see your other fellow Ravenclaws, Woozi and Seokmin waving to you. You waved back your ungloved hand, which at this point was dully throbbing and bright red. Seokmin was beginning to follow Jeonghan to you. You hoped they wouldn’t notice.

           You really hated that they had to come right now. As Jeonghan came up to you, he laughed, “We were just about to have a snowball fight!” Just as you had expected. “Do you want to join?” As you were about to open your mouth politely decline, he noticed your hand, and your eyes. He looked worried. “Y/N, are you alright?” Seokmin had finally the joined the two of you as Jeonghan spoke his words.

           You stuffed your hand into your pocket. “I’m fine. I lost my glove and I got some snow in my eyes.” The glove part was true, anyway. Seokmin frowned, and pulled your hand out of your pocket. You tried to pull away, but Seokmin pulled his glove off to feel the temperature of your hand. You were sputtering out unconnected sentences and words about how you were fine and you needed to get going. You could feel Wonwoo’s eyes on you, and you didn’t want to look at him. You didn’t need this attention from anyone right now.

           Seokmin gasped in shock at your cold hand. “Y/N, your hand is freezing-”

           You pulled your hand back into your jacket. “I know, I’m going to go back to the dorm room so I can warm up.” You were humiliated. You could see why Wonwoo would be embarrassed about you. Here you were, crying over him and almost getting frostbite over losing a glove you couldn’t get back.

           “Let me walk you back,” Jeonghan insisted.

           “I’m really fine. I’ll just keep my hand in my pocket.” You could feel more of the boys’ eyes on you in curiosity. Seungcheol was patting a snowball into life and looking Jeonghan’s way devilishly, and you didn’t want to be in the crossfire.

           You began to turn away up the path, and squeezed out a goodbye to the Ravenclaws before hurrying through the forest path back to the castle, feeling tears stinging at your eyes again. You couldn’t tell if you were crying because of your throbbing hand, your embarrassment of getting caught in your emotional outburst, or just relieving the pain of seeing Wonwoo ignore you. You didn’t look his way the entire time on the clearing. You couldn’t bear to see what he was doing. Was he ignoring you? Was he embarrassed to see you crying? Or had he been worried about you?

           You shook your head as you entered the castle, causing the snow to fall off your shoulders and head. By habit, you were leading yourself to the Room of Requirement. You knew Wonwoo wouldn’t follow you back, and you didn’t want to sit in your dormitory surrounded by all the younger years who couldn’t go to Hogsmead. You trudged into the familiar small room, and collapsed in front of the fire on the plushy rug laying on the floor. You reached out your numb hand to lay closer to the fire, and felt it begin to heat up.

           You felt comfortable on the rug, and felt yourself about to doze off. You shut your eyes for five minutes, and was rudely awakened by someone running into the room. You squeezed your eyes tight, hoping it was a bad dream.

           “Y/N!” A familiar deep voice boomed out, running over to you. You rolled over, and sat up as he approached you. Seeing his worried expression and his red cheeks like he had been running just caused your chest to flare up in anger. You got up, stuffing your single glove into your pocket.

           “What?” you asked, rather stern. You had a right to be.

           He paused in front of you, taken off guard from your sudden hostility as opposed to your usual warmth and kindness. “Are you… okay?”

           You scoffed. “Do you really care, Wonwoo?” You started to stalk past him to leave the room. He grabbed your arm and stopped you, turning you around.

           “Of course, I care Y/N, how could you question that?”

           You glared up at him. “You didn’t seem to care too much when you ignored me in front of your friends. You got away from me pretty fast. You couldn’t be bothered to even smile at me. Am I that embarrassing to you, Wonwoo, that your friends can’t know that we’re friends?” Wonwoo was staring at you, mouth slightly agape. The words were spilling out like vomit now. “I haven’t told any of my friends about you because I know you wouldn’t like that, but dammit Wonwoo, I’m tired of feeling like I’m something to be ashamed of!” You pulled away from his grip on your arm. “I care about you, dickhead. I was fucking crying about it! Why won’t you let me?”

           You turned again, and your hand was on the handle of the door when Wonwoo’s voice flittered out, “I was afraid.” You paused, waiting for him to say something else. He swallowed. “I am afraid,” he corrected. “That I would lose you.” He said, voice small.

           You turned toward him, hand still on the handle. “Why would you lose me?” you asked quietly.

           “I can’t explain it…” your grip tightened on the handle. “When I start telling my friends, it’ll be real. I’m afraid it won’t be the same if other people know. They might influence how this goes.”

           You sighed, and met his eyes. “How this goes, Wonwoo? What even is this?” Your question put him at a loss for words, and you turned back to twist the handle and leave the room before he said something else. If he said another word, you knew you would stay, and you would forgive him. You didn’t want to forgive him right now. He needed to think about all of this for a while. You just had to wait for him to make up his mind. Make up his mind about what? You weren’t sure. The ball was in his court now. It was his turn.

           -

           Wonwoo sat in the armchair, elbows on his knees, gazing into the fire. Your words were bouncing in his head like pinballs. What even is this?

           Wonwoo sat and pondered. What did Wonwoo want from you? A friendship? Something more? He wasn’t sure. All Wonwoo knew was that you made him happy. Your warm personality and words made him feel like he wasn’t the cold person he knew he was. You warmed him up. Wonwoo knew he didn’t want to stop talking to you. Wonwoo knew if you left him now, there would be a gaping hole in his chest where you used to be. Wonwoo suddenly remembered how he had grabbed your hand, and how warm it had been. When he had grabbed your arm earlier, he felt how cold your hand was. It wasn’t like you. It was like you were an entirely different person. He wanted you to feel warm again.

           Wonwoo knew he deserved it. He didn’t know why he shied away from you in public. The sinking feeling was that Wonwoo felt he didn’t deserve to be your friend. You could do so much better than him, a cold quiet man who struggled with his emotions. You were so patient, walking him through putting down his walls. And you came back every time they closed up again. You never faltered.

           And Wonwoo realized it in that moment. Why he was so intrigued by you. Why he could never get you off his mind, why he wanted to unravel your entire life story. Wonwoo just cared about you. It was as simple as that. In the beginning, it had just been your vibrant personality that drew Wonwoo in, but as time went on… He wanted to be more for you, he wanted to be someone you could rely on. He wanted you to break down his walls, and he wanted to let them down for you. He loved you.

           He dropped his head into his hands, the fire cackling in the all too quiet room.

            -

           A few days after the blow up, you sat down in Charms, and snuck a peak to the row that was across the row and one behind you. Where Wonwoo usually sat. Mingyu was snoozing on the desk, but Wonwoo wasn’t there. He hadn’t been there since the incident. You chewed on your lip, and stared down at the parchment in front of you.

           A figure passed you. A husky voice caused your head to shoot up. “Hey, Y/N.” Wonwoo said, passing you as he dropped into his seat. It was nonchalant, like it was nothing new. He had never verbally said hello to you in class before. It was always an indiscreet nod. You heard a few people whisper, and you drew your hands into your lap so no one could see how they were shaking.

           The rest of class you could barely focus. You were hyper aware of his presence in the room, and his gaze on your back. You bolted out of the room as the Professor dismissed the class, but Wonwoo was quick behind you. “Y/N, he said, grabbing your arm.

           You didn’t pull away. You were waiting for an explanation for his actions, but you could barely make yourself meet his gaze, or open your mouth to speak. You were afraid. You knew that simple action of saying hello was a big thing for him. It said a lot. He didn’t stop the two of you, instead he pulled you away in direction to your little room. He didn’t seem to care that people were staring and whispering as he pulled you along, but you knew he must have been screaming inside. What the hell was he doing? Proving to you that he could be public with you?

           When he pulled you in the Room, he kept his back to you as he held the door handles. You were standing in the light of the window, which was bright as the sun reflected off the snow. His grip was tight, like he was trying to stop the shaking of his hands. “Wonwoo, what is this about? Why have you not been in class?” Your voice was slightly hoarse, and just barely above a whisper. Was he going to cut ties with you completely, or just the opposite? He didn’t answer. “Are you avoiding me?” He shook his head, and finally pulled away from the door to face you. You were clothed in the bright sun, and he was standing in the shadows. He stepped forward, step by step, until he was half a foot away, and the light was shining on him too. He picked up your hands gently. You jolted in shock.

           “I was trying to figure out how to do this.” He said.

           That was ambiguous. “Do what?” you asked.

           “How to…” his words were stumbling as they left his lips. He shook his head. “How to tell you how I feel about you. About us.”

           Your breath caught in your throat. You were very aware of his hands over yours, and his close presence. His glasses were askew on his nose, as always. His tie was loose, and his sweater hung close to his body. Your throat felt parched, and you thought your voice might croak if you opened your mouth. You stared down at your intertwined hands, his hands reassuringly wrapped around yours. They were strong and sure for once, not hesitant and light on yours like they were the first time he had held your hand. You blinked, wondering suddenly if you were dreaming. This Wonwoo was far different from the Wonwoo you had been getting to know. Or, another thought crossed your mind, this is the Wonwoo who was hiding behind all the walls you had been trying to smash down. You drew your eyes up to meet his again. His cheeks were slightly flushed.

           He seemed to be thinking about what to say first. “I’ve wanted to talk to you since I first saw you get sorted first year. There was something about you that made me want to know everything about you. I spent all these years trying to figure it out from afar, with no luck.” You realized you were holding your breath at his words, and reminded yourself to breathe. “After you were rightfully angry with me, I realized something. When you asked me what this even was, I realized that I wanted it to be more than it was. Because I realized,” he took a deep breath, steadying himself. “That I really, really like you.” His cheeks flushed pink. “I think I love you.” He added.

           Your expression must have melted like better, as you stared at him while his confession fluttered out of his lips. He was searching your expression, worried, and waiting for your response. “Wonwoo, I…” It was your turn to search for the right words. “I think I love you too.” You realized. You found yourself breaking into a smile, the first one in a few days of misery, and Wonwoo smiled widely back at you, eyes scrunched up and all. It felt like all the anxiousness and tightness in your chest had dissolved immediately at his words. His hands tightened around yours, but you removed your hands to wrap around his torso and hug him. He was surprised first, but eventually lowered his arms around you. You shut your eyes and grinned against his sweater. You should have realized your desire to get to know him and spend time with him more and more was just that you… loved him. You hadn’t even realized it until he had said it. It was clear as day.

           You pulled away, suddenly feeling a bit shy. “You know, I wanted to talk to you for a while too. You were so quiet, and I wanted to know what was going on in that mind of yours.”

           Wonwoo sheepishly smiled. “A lot goes on up there. I just don’t verbalize it.”

           You shook your head. “You kept me waiting long enough.” Wonwoo laughed softly, like music to your ears.

[theonetruenorth]

Yours is the light

This fic reads a little bit differently. It doesn’t have a lot of dialogue and some parts of it may seem packed with information. That’s because it started as an ‘extended headcanon post’ sort of thing and then got away from me (and by now this shouldn't surprise anyone who knows me).

It’s my take on the ‘alpha/beta/omega’ universe. But I decided to give it a twist and take some of the A/B/O stereotypes and turn them on their collective heads.

In other words, this is actually as different from the A/B/O trope as I could make it and still get away with calling is an A/B/O fic.

Beta-read by RomanceShipper

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

yours is the light by which my spirit’s born: yours is the darkness of my soul’s return you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars

― E.E. Cummings

The first time Alec questioned his status was when he was ten years old.

Up until that point, he never even had a reason to think about secondary genders and what the consequences of being an alpha, beta, or omega were. He was just a kid. He had no use for the adult stuff when there were so many other more important and interesting things to learn, things like runes and archery and the history of Nephilim.

Then the whole debacle with Preston happened. He thought that everyone would be happy with him for adapting, and finally finding a way to beat the boy at kendo practice, despite Preston being nearly two years older than him. He listened to his mother’s advice and went against his training. Preston’s nose cracked under his shinai as a result.

Preston himself didn’t react badly - other than being embarrassed that the younger kid, whom he used to beat regularly, suddenly managed to kick his ass instead - but oh, Preston’s mother went ballistic. Alec remembered how she shouted at Maryse. She insisted that Alec should be put in his place like ‘the filthy little omega he reeked of’ and that he should be punished for insubordination and hurting her alpha son.

Alec also remembered how Maryse growled at the other woman. There was some vicious exchange of words that he couldn’t hear before Preston’s mother all but ran from the training room with the metaphorical tail between her legs.

Later that evening, when Alec was done cleaning all the weapons in the Institute, as a part of his punishment for going against Hodge’s training (a job he didn’t really mind that much), he asked Maryse about what Preston’s mother had said. Maryse sat him down on his bed and explained to him how the secondary genders worked. She told him about alphas and their dominant personalities. About betas and their hard work and neutrality that helped to keep society balanced.

And she told him about omegas. How they were incredibly rare, especially among boys. How they could carry children if they wanted and how every alpha would be lucky to have them as a partner. She told him that omegas were smart and had sharp, tactical minds, and were born leaders. She told him that nearly every great figure in the history of mankind was a confirmed omega. Alexander the Great or Julius Caesar or Napoleon Bonaparte, to name a few.

Alec didn’t understand why Preston’s mother was so upset with him and in turn, Maryse explained pheromones. How Alec already smelled slightly of omega and that he would probably present soon. Preston’s mother was the type of person who was envious of the gifts that omegas were blessed with.

“There will be people in your life who will treat you like you’re worth less than them, just because of your status,” she told him. “But there will be just as many people who will cherish you for what you are.”

Maryse told Alec, again and again, that what he did with his life was his choice and his alone. He didn’t have to put up with anyone who didn’t respect him if he didn’t want to. The world would be his for the taking. As long as he was dutiful to the Clave and the nephilim’s sacred mission, he could be anyone he wanted to be. The Head of the Institute. The Inquisitor. The Consul. No one would be able to stop him if he truly wished to become a great leader.

Alec could still remember the genuinely proud look in Maryse’s eyes when he presented as an omega a little over a year later.

The life of an omega wasn’t any different than the life of an alpha or a beta.

Ever since presenting, Alec was prescribed heat-blocking shots, just like the alphas. Since he presented so early, he wasn’t allowed to go through a heat until he was fourteen. Only then did the doctor’s at the Institute switch him over to the regular blockers that lasted about six months, allowing a heat to happen twice a year to keep his body healthy.

Heats were a nuisance for Alec. He had to isolate himself from all alphas - except for his parents - and Izzy, who was a beta. Alec always spent his heats away in their house in Alicante for two long, uncomfortable days during which his temperature spiked and he felt like his entire body was itching. Thankfully, as long as there were no alphas around to trigger him further, that was pretty much it. There were no inconvenient erections, no rush of hormones that made him impossibly horny (no more than was normal for a teenager, anyway), and no spontaneous leaking; that particular thought left him mortified. No, all of those things would happen only with a compatible alpha, and Alec had never shared a heat with anyone.

He even had to stay away from Jace, who presented as an alpha just a year after him. He couldn’t risk it. Jace was his brother in every way but blood, but apparently it was the blood that made the difference. His feelings for Jace made everything worse since he was sure that his parabatai would trigger his heat so fast it would make his head spin.

It wasn’t exactly a secret that out of all three secondary genders, it was the alphas who were the strongest, the most aggressive, the most territorial. It was well-known.

It was also completely wrong.

Because of the rarity of omegas, people believed that they were either submissive or neutral, like betas. Not many people were educated on how dangerous a threatened omega could be. Those that were educated?

Their knowledge often came from a personal experience.

The group of boys who cornered Alec in an isolated part of the Institute had the brilliant idea of putting the resident omega on his knees, to see if he would ‘get wet for them like the bitch that he was’. There were five of them. Alec had just hit a growth spurt not so long ago, but he was still only sixteen and they were all older and bigger than him. He didn’t have any weapons on him and was severely outnumbered.

Alec didn’t know he would need weapons in his own home. He had not experienced this kind of behavior before, this kind of degradation and aggression, aimed at him just because of his status as an omega. Polite disinterest was the worst thing that ever happened, not that he minded. It was better than the curious, interested looks he had been receiving for the past couple of months. Izzy had joked about it. She told Alec that it was because he was turning from an ‘awkward turtle into a beautiful swan’, whatever the hell that meant. Alec always rolled his eyes at her, but maybe even that joke had some truth to it. Was that why he was getting harassed now?

It didn’t matter.

The corner of Alec’s lip twitched in an imitation of a smirk, all sharp teeth and disdain. He was not going to give them what they wanted.

When other shadowhunters came running moments later, alarmed by the sounds of fighting, Alec had a broken rib and a black eye, but the five guys were on the ground either unconscious or moaning in pain, all of them looking far worse than Alec. One of them was missing half of his right ear. When Maryse arrived at the scene, Alec greeted her with a red-tinted grin. The blood running down his lips and chin was not his own.

Calming an omega down from a feral episode was not easy, but Maryse was the only alpha Alec yielded to. She coaxed him out of the corner, where he stood to ensure no one attacked his vulnerable back. She led him to the infirmary, where she held an ice pack to his ribs and drew a fresh iratze on his skin.

“I’m so incredibly proud of you, my sweet boy,” Maryse whispered into his hair as he hid his face in the crook of her neck, taking shallow breaths and fighting against the pain that came as the adrenaline rush ebbed away. The red haze of the anger-fight-survive instincts that clouded his mind was receding, chased away by his mother’s tender words and the familiar scent of her perfume. “I’m so proud of how well you fought and how you protected yourself.”

Alec never saw those boys again. He was sure Maryse put the fear of the Angel in them and made them transfer away from New York as soon as they could walk again.

As a general rule, Alec tended to be wary whenever an alpha warlock showed even a little bit of interest in him.

It was a given fact that warlocks were infertile, but what many didn’t realize is that it wasn’t completely true. It wasn’t common, but a male alpha warlock could father a child with an omega female or male, but only of different species, like a Seelie or a werewolf.

Or a Nephilim.

Alec wasn’t aware of this fact until he ran point on a mission to capture and arrest Iris Rouse, a notorious dark magic user. She managed to flee before they got to her, but she escaped in a hurry, leaving her experiments behind.

Her hideout was a thing of nightmares.

Rooms were filled with brainwashed omegas - Seelies, wolves, and even mundanes - some of them in late stages of pregnancy. The entire building reeked of dark magic, misery, and pain. As soon as Alec entered those blasted rooms, he knew that none of the omegas were there of their own free will.

At first, Alec didn’t understand how it was possible. Omegas who went through extreme trauma - physical or emotional - couldn’t conceive. Fertility during heats required a deep emotional bond between partners, and that sure as hell couldn’t happen in that horrific breeding house.

Later, much later, Izzy came to him with lab results. Through the combination of magic, potions, and drugs Iris managed to brainwash her victims into a state similar to heat and even imitated a bond between mated pairs, making sure that the omega’s body didn’t fight the unwanted pregnancy.

She had been kidnapping omegas for months. She had been renting them out like broodmares to alpha warlocks and demons, to create more warlocks. She had done all of this under his nose, in his city. Alec made a promise to himself, and to the rescued omegas and their unborn children, that he would find Iris Rouse and make her pay.

When Clary Fray entered their lives - along with her beta friend, Simon - she brought chaos with her to an extent that he really did not appreciate. She refused to play by the rules. She did whatever the hell she wanted and somehow seemed to pull everyone into her quest to find her mother.

Jace became enamored with her almost immediately, which only added insult to injury. Clary was an alpha, just like Jace, but that didn’t mean much. These days it didn’t matter what your secondary gender was, you could date whoever you wanted. Heck, even his parents were an alpha pair, which wasn’t something that would have happened forty or fifty years ago.

Clary didn’t know how to act around omegas. Alec very much enjoyed putting her in her place after the first time she tried to order and intimidate him, under the utterly foolish impression that he would yield to her.

Alec had never yielded to anyone but his mother in his entire life. Even the Clave officials have never seen a submission from him, only polite manners and professionalism that he used with everyone.

But then...then Clary led them to Magnus Bane.

All the silly romance movies Izzy had made him watch could not have prepared him for the lightning that struck when he saw Magnus clearly for the first time, after fighting those Circle members together.

He felt numb and buzzed with restless energy at the same time, as if he had an electric current pulsing underneath his skin. The apartment smelled of battle and blood and magic, but beneath that Alec could detect other, subtler scents. Something wild and primal that he couldn’t describe. It smelled like the air after a thunderstorm, like ozone and wet dirt. Like cedar and rosemary and woodsmoke, all wrapped up in one alluring package.

“I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced,” Magnus said to him, and Alec forgot how to breathe. He could only stare at the most gorgeous man - an alpha - he had seen in his life. He barely managed to choke out his own name. He was torn between the desperate need to stay, to keep the warlock in his sight, and the need to run away and hide in the embarrassed of his own incoherent mumbling.

But of course, everything went to shit quickly when he screwed up during the summoning of the memory demon. Magnus tried to comfort him afterward, saying that he had nothing to be ashamed of. His voice was low and it sent a shiver down Alec’s spine. He could still remember the jolt of energy that jumped between their hands as they’d touched for the first time, just moments before. Alec could still feel it buzzing underneath his skin, like a phantom caress of invisible fingers. From the look Magnus was giving him, Alec was sure the alpha felt it too.

He agreed to go out on a date.

Alec still didn’t know what possessed him to say yes. Maybe it was the way Magnus trembled in his arms while Alec held him up and shared his strength as he healed Luke. Maybe it was the vulnerable look Magnus gave him afterward. Or maybe it was the fact that Magnus had seen him as an equal, someone worthy of asking for help.

Alec didn’t understand it. Never in his life had he felt this kind of attraction to anyone, ever. It was like some stupid, primal part of him woke up and reared its head every time Magnus appeared in his sights. Like the part that made him an omega suddenly longed for an alpha like it never did before.

He didn’t like it.

He wasn’t ashamed of being an omega, no matter how some people resented him for his secondary gender. But he didn’t like to feel as if he was missing something. He didn’t like to feel incomplete without an alpha to fill that empty space inside of him.

And yet, whenever he was near Magnus or heard his voice, his heart resonated with such intense longing that it made his breath catch.

So Alec did the only thing he knew he could do. He talked to his mother.

He didn’t tell her that it was a warlock who caused such a strong reaction in him. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what his mother thought of Downworlders. He told her about the conflicting feelings, about the sudden yearning he couldn’t explain. He wasn’t afraid of telling her that the alpha who made him feel that way was a man. Thankfully, the gender of your mate wasn’t an issue when you were an omega capable of carrying children either way.

“Oh, Alec,” Maryse sighed as she raised her hand and touched his cheek gently as they sat together on the couch in her office, “it sounds to me like you found your mate.”

And wasn’t that a terrifying prospect.

“Just like that? I don’t even know him. I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with him?”

Which wasn’t entirely true, Alec knew. There was no such thing as fated pairs, even though the romance flicks liked to overuse the trope. Each person had many possibilities of mates they could meet at any point in their lives. Furthermore, all relationships required work and patience, not just fate. Finding a possible mate did not mean that Alec had to tie himself to them indefinitely. People fall in and out of love all the time, and mating did not have to mean life-long commitment. Mating bonds could be broken and forged anew with different people at any given time.

“You’re not supposed to do anything but find out if he’s your match,” Maryse told him fiercely. “No one can force you to do anything you don’t want to do. This is your life, Alec, and only you can decide what makes you happy.”

And so he did.

They went on dates.

Alec was apprehensive at first. Magnus was an alpha warlock, and that always lit up a warning light in him due to the Iris Rouse case, which was still open. What could Magnus - beautiful, powerful Magnus - want with a plain, boring shadowhunter like himself? The fact that he was an omega had to play some important part in all of this. The fact that he could carry children for a warlock had to mean something.

And yet, during the dates they went on he couldn’t help but find himself falling more and more for Magnus. The alpha was a perfect gentleman, not pushing him any further than he was comfortable with, and always careful of not invading Alec’s personal space.

“I lived in times where an omega was considered property of an alpha,” Magnus told him one evening, “and I think it was one of the darkest parts of history. If I ever start acting like a caveman, feel free to shoot me full of arrows.”

It was a little over a month of dating - that no one except for Izzy and Jace knew about - that he kissed Magnus for the first time.

They were saying goodbye after a date night, which started at a Greek restaurant and ended with drinks at Magnus’ place. Magnus was just about to open a portal that would take Alec back to the Institute when Alec gently grasped his elbow, backed Magnus against a wall and kissed him. It was not fast and sudden. No, he had given Magnus enough time to stop him, but the warlock merely tilted his head up into the kiss.

It was Alec’s first kiss. It started out a little hesitantly, a little clumsily, and very much without finesse, but what he lacked in experience he made up in enthusiasm. His body was crowding Magnus’ against the wall, which the alpha didn’t mind much, at first. Then he pulled Alec close by circling his waist, bit gently at Alec’s lower lip and took over the kiss, dominating it completely and utterly. Alec all but melted against him and the empty, burning void inside of him started aching a little less.

Alec chose to spend his next heat in Alicante once more, not ready to share a heat with Magnus when they still had not even seen each other naked. It was rougher than usual, if only because his mind kept circling back to Magnus over and over again, making him more aroused than he was comfortable with. He was insanely grateful that heats spent in isolation lasted only two days.

He hoped that by the time his next heat came, in another six months, he would be ready to share it with Magnus.

“A warlock, Alec? Really?!”

His mother’s voice was loud and somewhat shrill, the disbelief ringing clear across every word. It grated on his nerves, made his hackles rise and buzz underneath his skin like an itch he could not scratch.

Lately, everything he did was met with some kind of disapproval, but he didn’t have time for this. Hodge had betrayed them. Jace was missing and still in Valentine’s grasp. And, while his parents played politics in Idris, trying to smooth things out with the Clave, Alec had been desperately trying to get his parabatai back.

Then, of course, things had to get worse. Maryse came back to New York two days prior and someone had already reported to her that Alec and Magnus had been dating for months. How they found out, Alec had no idea. Although, it was bound to be revealed sooner or later, especially since Alec did not intend to let Magnus go anytime soon.

“You know how alpha warlocks are,” Maryse hissed, venom dripping from her words, “they only want one thing from omegas like you! You can give them something they otherwise can’t have and I can’t believe you would fall for Bane’s deception. You’re going to drag the Lightwood name through the mud for him?”

“There isn’t a lot of good reputation to our name left, Mother, and that is your fault, not mine,” Alec spat out, trying to keep his anger reigned in, feeling it rise inside of him, wave after dangerous wave. “I don’t have the time for this. Jace is still gone, Aldertree is making our work more difficult than it should be, and I don’t have to justify myself to you.”

“I didn’t raise you to be some warlocks whore!” Maryse grabbed his shoulder when he turned around to leave and that was it, the fragile control he had over his own emotions snapped at the sound of her authoritative tone.

“ENOUGH!” Alec growled at her as he spun around and grabbed her by the wrist, yanking the offending hand away from his shoulder. She took an instinctive step back and, through the red haze of fury, Alec noticed how her eyes went wide, how a brief expression of fear flashed through her face. It brought him grim sense of satisfaction, knowing she didn’t expect his outburst. Alec wasn’t prone to anger often and never, ever, had he turned that anger on her.

Not until now.

“You once told me that no one has the right to tell me how to live my life,” Alec hissed, his tone low and husky, and with a hint of steel underneath his words. “That no one can tell me how to achieve my own happiness, or who I should tie myself to, as long as it was my choice. Well, this is my choice and you don’t get to have a say in it. I will not allow you to talk about Magnus that way. Not now, not ever. If he’s a mistake - which I highly doubt - he will be my mistake. You don’t have the right to interfere. You are my mother, but you’re not my alpha. Not anymore. Do I make myself clear?”

Alec watched her process this, her face turning more pale. When she didn’t reply, he squeezed her wrist a little more. She was probably going to have bruises. Alec would feel guilty about them later, but at this very point he could not bring himself to care.

“I said, is that clear?”

“Yes,” she finally said and he released her, but to her credit she didn’t move away, didn’t step back away from him. “Oh, Alec…”

She reached out to him, both hands raising to his face and he resisted the urge to flinch. He wasn’t sure what she was playing at, but he wasn’t about to yield to her. He wasn’t lying when he said she was not his alpha anymore. There was only one he would yield to now, and that was not his mother.

Maryse cradled his face between her hands, gently and cautiously, her eyes softening a little as she took in the hardened expression on his face. The narrowed eyes shining with suspicion, and anger boiling inside of him, ready to burn her. He was still and unmoving and towering over her, ready to snap at any further provocation. Alec was half-feral and in protective mode. And an angered or threatened omega was dangerous.

But he was still her son, and she was the one responsible for putting him in this state.

“Magnus is the one you told me about,” Maryse said, sudden understanding in her voice. She was running her thumbs soothingly down Alec’s sharp cheekbones, hoping that the familiar gesture would help calm him down. “Easy now, easy. I didn’t mean to make you so angry.” Her soft whispers eased some of the tension from Alec’s shoulders, just like they always did when she brought him down from the adrenaline rush that triggered feral episodes. “I’m so sorry, my sweet boy. I didn’t understand. I know now that he’s your mate.”

Alec closed his eyes and shivered, thinking about Magnus. His loving eyes and soothing scent and reverent touch. He had never put a label on their relationship, but his mother was not wrong. The intense, painful longing he felt whenever they were apart, the elation that filled him to the brim whenever he was near the older man, when he could breathe in his scent, touch his warm skin. It all sounded like an incomplete bond.

And Magnus...

Magnus was his mate.

Alec turned his head to nuzzle deeper into the pillow and desperately tried to forget about the disaster of an evening they’d just had. Max’s party had been a failure due to the spell that was cast over all of them. Because of Alec’s overwhelming guilt over Jocelyn's death, elevated by the spell, he’d nearly thrown himself over Magnus’ balcony. He didn’t do it, but it was close. The only thing that stopped him, seconds before it was too late, was the faint, barely-there scent he caught in Magnus’ apartment.

The memory of it was stuck in his head. His mind snapped out of the spell’s hold as soon as he caught trace of it. It was a scent he could never forget. A bizarre mix of tulips, ginger root, and dust. He would forever associate this scent with the stench of terror and pain and suffering.

He ran through the apartment trying to locate the source. His frantic behavior must have been enough to alarm the others. Magnus tried to get his attention, to calm him down, but it wasn’t working. Alec seemed to be focused only on his task, hell-bent on finding the threat and eliminating it.

How dare she? How could she come into this apartment, into their territory, and hide away like a coward? Just the faintest trace of her scent was enough to make Alec’s hackles rise and his skin crawl. This time she was not going to get away from him.

He found her in Magnus’ bedroom, disguised in the form of a cat. Alec rushed at her, but she shifted into human form just in time to cast a spell that pushed him back.

Iris Rouse.

What happened afterward, Alec wasn’t sure. He couldn’t remember most of it. He’d been immobilized with magic for half of the fight and then blinded with rage for the rest of it. He knew that Magnus fought Iris and trapped her in his own spell. He knew that Jace had to hold Alec down to keep him away from tearing into Iris with his bare hands. He would have. He would have choked the life out of her there on the spot if he only had a chance. But now she was in Idris, awaiting the Clave’s judgment.

And he was here, in Magnus’ bed hiding his face in a soft pillow, trying to muffle the world around him. He wasn’t running high on adrenaline anymore, but his body hadn’t gotten the memo. Every muscle in his body was tense and he was ready to fight, even though his brain already knew there was nothing more to be done.

He didn’t flinch when he felt the bed dip next to him. Then Magnus was there, lying down next to Alec, his arm coming around Alec’s shoulders to hold him close.

“She’s gone, Alec. You can rest now.”

Alec made a wounded, angry sound and abandoned his pillow, choosing to hide his face away in the crook of Magnus’ neck instead. The warlock’s scent there was strong, easing his mind a little, filling his lungs as he took in shaky breaths.

“The things she did to those omegas,” Alec rasped out, trying desperately not to think back to the horrors of Iris’ experiments and failing. Every time he closed his eyes he could see Iris’ victims. He couldn’t stop his mind from going in circles and wondering what stroke of luck had spared him from the same fate, from being bound and broken and violated in a way you couldn’t ever recover from, not really. As a male omega, he would have been an attractive target for Iris, if she only knew of his existence. “I could have killed her. I will kill her if I ever see her again.”

“She’s going to pay for what she’s done,” Magnus whispered as he ran his fingers through Alec’s black hair in an attempt to calm him down. Alec’s scent filled the air between them. It was sour, unhappy, and that put Magnus on edge as well. “And you are the one who figured out she was here in the first place. You caught an intruder in my lair.” Magnus paused for a moment. “In our lair. You did good, love.”

Their lair. That sounded… nice. A space that they could share as one territory, theirs to protect. To nest in. It was something that usually only happened between mated pairs and Alec couldn’t help the warm, happy feeling that bloomed deep in his chest.

They took their relationship to the next level not long after that since Alec didn’t want his first time to happen in the middle of his heat. He didn’t want the rush of hormones and haze of lust to cloud the experience.

And oh, it was definitely an experience. Alec grew up thinking he would always be alone since he never showed interest in any alpha, but this? This was something else. Magnus worshipped his body, taught him the wonders of shared intimacy that were just on the razor edge of being overwhelming.

Alec let himself fall, knowing that Magnus would be there to catch him.

“Your mother and I always had a complicated relationship.”

Alec snorted in disbelief, not lifting his eye from the tablet in his hand as he scanned over the latest report from the previous night’s patrol. The group had not encountered anything out of the ordinary, which gave Alec hope that things might finally be leveling out, even just a little bit. Valentine was in custody and most of his followers were scattered. The Clave had acknowledged his leadership in the battle, thankfully disregarding Alec's rebellion against Aldertree.

Everything led up to this moment. Discovering Izzy’s addiction. Taking back control of the Institute. The battle. Confronting Valentine and his shadowhunters. And now the Clave had named him Head of the Institute. This was what he had been aiming for ever since he was a child.

“It’s not complicated.” Alec put down the tablet after signing off on the report, sending it to be archived. He finally looked up at his father, sitting on one of the sofas in his office. His office. It still blew his mind. “You cheated on her.”

“I made a mistake,” Robert said, looking down for a moment before shifting his gaze to Alec once more. “I never meant to hurt you, any of you. But I fell in love. You of all people should know what that’s like.”

“Magnus isn’t an affair!” Alec growled, slamming an open palm down on the desk, the sudden loud thump making Robert twitch in response. “I won’t allow you to disrespect him. He is my mate. And mom was yours. Until you decided to throw it all away.”

They were silent for a minute. Alec closed his eyes and took deep breaths, trying to control his feelings. Ever since realizing what Magnus meant to him, his emotions were all over the place. Logically, he knew it was a period of adjustment that he needed to get through. The fierce protectiveness over his mate would ease away in time, but until then he was ready to go to war for Magnus, even against his own father.

“I can understand falling for someone else,” Alec finally said. “People fall in and out of love all the time. That’s just how life is. You don’t have to stay with your mate for the rest of your days.” He looked at his father and saw the tiniest flicker of hope in his eyes, a hope for reconciliation.

He was about to crush that hope, hard, and didn’t feel any remorse.

“But going behind Mom’s back, continuing your affair? That’s what I can’t forgive. You should have ended things with Mom before you started seeing someone else. But now you’re not being truthful to either of them. You’re just another alpha being led around by his knot.”

“Alec!” Robert’s expression turned angry and he stood up from his seat, his entire body one tense line. “I won’t allow you to talk to me like that!”

“Why?” Alec asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because I am an omega? So is your mistress, remember?”

“Because you’re my son! You will show me some respect.”

“Respect is earned, Dad.” Alec hissed, narrowing his eyes. He remained seated behind his desk, anger churning inside of him freely, but it was the icy-cold kind of fury that washed over him with a false sense of tranquility. He did not need to shout or get angry to get his point across. “It’s also as easily lost, and you lost all respect I had for you when you chose to hurt your family. Mom was your mate for over twenty years - she deserved more than being cheated on and made into the new hot gossip of Idris.”

“Alec, you don’t have the right to--”

“I have every right,” Alec interrupted him, his voice low and dangerous. Robert’s eyes widened when he realized that he was stepping on thin ice now. “Out of the two of you, it was Mom who was my alpha. It was never you. She was my alpha and you broke her heart.”

Alec had hurt people for less.

“Unless it’s official business, we have nothing more to talk about.” Alec picked up his previously discarded tablet and turned it on. “Not until you fix your own mess. Now, I have the Institute to run. I trust you can let yourself out.”

“Alec…” Robert’s voice was quiet and defeated now, but Alec wasn’t looking at him any more.

“You can go,” Alec said and sighed with relief when Robert left his office without a word.

“Are you nervous?”

Magnus’ breath washed over the heated skin of his forehead and Alec closed his eyes as he shivered, half in anticipation and half in fear.

“Yes,” he finally admitted, his voice shaky, “I’m not sure what’s going to happen.”

Which wasn’t entirely true. Alec had academic knowledge of how heats should go, he wasn’t going into it blind. He knew that his heat would last from two to four days, during which his temperature would spike and, if a compatible alpha was near, he would experience a heightened state of arousal. Not enough to make his crazy with it (no matter how online porn liked to pretend that omegas in heat turned into knot-obsessed slaves that alphas could do anything with) but enough to make things very uncomfortable if he didn’t have sex. His pheromones would, in turn, trigger an alpha into a rut so that they could go through their heats together.

It all sounded very… clinical. Alec wasn’t sure how he felt about the aspects of his biology that only happened during heats. He wasn’t looking forward to experiencing the feeling of producing his own slick or having Magnus knot him - something he was pretty sure was going to hurt, at least at first.

He tried to approach it like a battle for which he could plan ahead. He scheduled himself a week off work, just in case this first heat went for longer than usual, which wasn’t uncommon. He left his siblings in charge and threatened them with bodily harm if they disturbed them for any reason, save for the apocalypse dropping on their heads or Raziel himself demanding his attention.

He also made sure his contraceptive shot was still active since he had no intention of having a child anytime soon. Alec had been wary of admitting this to Magnus, but the warlock only smiled, told Alec that it was his decision and he had all the time in the world to wait and see if he changed his mind one day.

So, all in all, Alec felt like he was ready.

Despite all this knowledge, despite all the facts he had researched and learned about, nothing could have prepared him for actually feeling the effects of the heat. The hot rush of pure want that filled him as they laid on the bed together touching and kissing, the need building up like an inferno, making Alec’s skin feel like it was on fire. The fabric of his clothes seemed like a branding iron, scalding and hurting, and he whined in the back of his throat at the uncomfortable feeling.

“You don’t need to be scared,” Magnus said, kissing Alec in between sentences. Pressing small, brief kisses over his lips, the bridge of his nose, his closed eyelids. “I’ll take care of you.”

“I know,” Alec panted, squirming a little until he could reach to strip off his shirt and then yanked Magnus’ own tunic off his body, relishing in the way cool air hit his overheated skin, “I trust you.”

That was what this was. For over a decade, he'd spent his heats alone, in isolation from the outside world. Now he had finally found someone who he trusted with his life, with his body. Someone who would stay with him when he was the most vulnerable.

“Magnus,” Alec whispered as the warlock shifted them around until Alec ended up on his back, Magnus nestled in between his legs. They were both hard. Alec shivered.

“How do you feel?” Magnus asked, pressing their foreheads together. One of his hands settled over Alec’s sternum, feeling his heart beating wildly inside of his chest like a bird caught in a cage.

“Hot,” Alec panted. “Too hot. Is it… is it always like this?”

“Yes, but it will get better. It’s just the first rush. It will ease soon.” Magnus kissed him again slowly, possessively, owning Alec’s mouth and Alec surrendered with the sweetest sigh.

“Can you feel it?” Alec asked after a moment, gripping onto Magnus’ hair with trembling fingers as the warlock mouthed at his neck, covering it in his marks. “The bond?”

Magnus made an affirmative noise and Alec closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling. The beginning of a bond thrumming between them. He had felt it for the last couple of months, but it would only be complete with a shared heat. Alec was more than ready to take the leap, to tie himself to this wonderful, brilliant man who turned out to be his shining star, his beacon towards which he had been gravitating his entire life.

Alec allowed himself to fall apart, trusting Magnus to put him back together. To gather all his broken pieces and make him whole again, until Alec felt brand new and loved and complete.