#mark lee gryffindor

[loevhyuck]

[hyuckiefluff]

Flipped | Mark Lee

pairing: gryffindor!mark lee x slytherin!fem reader (ft haechan) genre: angst, fluff, smut (in 2nd part) wc: 29k+ summary: the first time you met mark lee, you flipped his world upside down— literally. seven years later and after countless attempts to avoid you, you're still driving him insane. except now, it’s for an entirely different reason. content warnings: mild possessiveness/jealousy, minor confrontation/injuries, non-consensual drugging (love potion), mark is mean at first and terribly bad at feelings, miscommunication, unrequited feelings. explicit sexual content, cursing, loss of virginity, semipublic sexual activity, oral fem receiving, unprotected sex. a/n: proofreading this after meeting mark lee irl had me feeling crazy... bro is actually majestic and i miss him BAD. anyway... this one is special to me because i’ve been wanting to write a hogwarts au since forever and i absolutely love how it came out. this is also slightly inspired by the movie/book “flipped” so it has a ‘she fell first, but he fell harder’ vibe that i’m kinda obsessed with. i tried to do something different and write the events from both perspectives, i hope it’s clear enough so that you can tell when it’s him and when it’s her. feedback is always appreciated! ps: i had to split this into two parts bc apparently i reached the max word count, so all the smut cws apply to the 2nd part . thank you so much for reading!

The first time Mark Lee met you, you flipped his world upside down.

And not in a good way. In the most literal and humiliating way possible.

It happened on the Hogwarts Express, during your very first year. Mark had been desperately searching for an empty cabin but since he was dragging a suitcase stuffed to the brim by his overly concerned mother, he was at a severe disadvantage. Someone else had already claimed the spot every time he reached a door.

By the time he made it to the last cabin, he was already panting. But at last, he found one that was partially empty.

You sat cross-legged on the seat, nose buried in The Quibbler. Mark found that a little odd, his father always said The Quibbler was full of nonsense, a rag for conspiracy theorists rather than real journalism. But that wasn’t his problem. His problem was the fact that both of his arms were shaking from the weight of his bag.

He cleared his throat. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

You looked up, and your messy bangs fell into your wide, starry eyes. For a second, Mark swore they got even bigger at the sight of him.

“Not at all!” you chirped, your voice high and excited.

Mark forced a polite smile and stepped inside, shuffling toward the overhead compartment. He glanced up at where your bag was already neatly placed and swallowed hard. How the hell was he supposed to get his own up there? He wasn’t weak by any means, but after dragging it through the entire train, his arms were screaming in protest.

You seemed to notice his struggle because you set The Quibbler down and pulled out your wand. “Need help?”

Mark was about to shake his head when suddenly, his feet left the ground.

“What—HEY! PUT ME DOWN!”

Mark flailed helplessly as his entire body flipped upside down, his robes falling over his head. Panic surged through him as he felt his pants begin to slip.

“Oh my! I’m so sorry! I thought this was the right spell!” you gasped, flicking your wand again, this time more frantically.

Mark tried to grip at something, anything, but all he managed to do was thrash at the air while more of his clothes tried to slip away from his body.

“I—I don’t know the counterspell!” you admitted in a panic.

At the commotion, students from other cabins poked their heads in. A chorus of laughter erupted at the sight of Mark dangling upside down, arms desperately trying to keep his robes and pants in place.

A tall, older student finally pushed his way inside. He took one look at Mark and sighed as if this were nothing new. “Seriously? Don’t you first-years ever learn?”

“I—I was just trying to help him levitate his bag…”

The older student pinched the bridge of his nose. “Finite.”

Mark hit the seat with an unceremonious thud.

“If you lot keep casting spells on the train, I’ll start deducting points from your houses as soon as you’re sorted,” the boy warned before turning on his heel and waving off the lingering audience.

You hesitated, staring at Mark with wide, guilty eyes. “I’m sorry…” you whispered, your voice wavering just a little.

But Mark wasn’t listening. He was too busy seeing red from both rage and humiliation. Without a word, he grabbed his bag and stormed out.

That was the day Mark Lee met you.

And the day he swore he’d never speak to you again.

The first time you met Mark Lee, you flipped.

Not literally but in the way your heart did a little somersault the moment he stepped into your cabin.

You had been engrossed in The Quibbler, completely enchanted by every bizarre detail about the magical world. Since you grew up with two Muggle parents, receiving your Hogwarts letter was like stepping into a dream where the impossible suddenly was real. You couldn’t get enough of it.

Your cabin door suddenly slid open and a boy stood there, panting slightly, his face flushed red from exertion as he struggled to drag an absurdly large trunk behind him.

You felt your face heat up. You’d never been around many boys growing up, having attended an all-girls school, but there was something about him that struck you immediately. Maybe it was the way his glasses were slipping down his pretty nose, or the way he offered a shy, slightly strained smile as he stepped inside. He was adorable.

And he was struggling.

You watched as he attempted to haul his trunk toward the overhead rack, his arms visibly trembling under its weight. Something in you immediately wanted to help.

The problem was… you had no idea what you were doing.

You’d only ever performed magic by accident, usually when you got too emotional. Your mom still loved to tell the story about how the lights in the house flickered every time you cried as a baby. Or the time Madeline Perkins made fun of your pigtails, and the swings mysteriously sent her flying off the playground.

But you’d only just gotten your wand the day before at Ollivanders. You hadn’t practiced a single spell yet, but you had been reading your textbooks. Wingardium Leviosa was the most basic charm in your book.

How hard could it be?

Apparently, hard enough that you somehow missed the part where it said that even though the spell was only for objects, if it was aimed at a person, it would also make their clothes float.

Which was how you now found yourself staring up at the cute boy you’d just met, his body suspended in midair, robes billowing wildly, eyes wide with pure horror.

Talk about a terrible first impression.

From that moment on, Mark Lee avoided you like the plague.  

It didn’t help that you were sorted into different houses—him in Gryffindor, you in Slytherin. You quickly learned that those two houses were basically sworn enemies, which made it even easier for him to pretend you didn’t exist.  

Despite his rocky start on the train, Mark had no trouble making friends in Gryffindor. He was well-liked, effortlessly charming, and even if he wasn’t the loudest in the room, he always carried a quiet sort of confidence. You, on the other hand, kept to yourself. Spending most of your free time watching him from across the Great Hall, your crush on him growing by the day.  

You didn’t know why you liked him so much, he hadn’t done anything grand or impressive to win your admiration. If anything, he actively tried to avoid you.  

You tried approaching him a few times during your first year, hoping to properly apologize and smooth things over. But each time, he found a way to dodge you, claiming he was late for class, too busy with homework, or suddenly needed to be anywhere else but next to you.

So by second year, you changed your approach.  

If Mark Lee wouldn’t pay attention to you as a friend, you’d make him notice you as a rival.  

Mark had been one of the best students in your first year, so you became an absolute academic weapon in your second. You were determined to match him in every class, if not surpass him.  

“Excellent work, Miss Y/N,” Professor McGonagall praised, a rare note of surprise in her voice as she examined the intricate tea jar you had just transfigured from a blue jay.  

You glanced over your shoulder at Mark. He was sitting a few rows back, his brows furrowed as he stared at your jar with a barely concealed frown. His own transfiguration was… less successful. The lizard he’d tried to turn into a pen still had a suspiciously scaly texture.  

But it wasn’t just Transfiguration where you shined.  

You also excelled in Potions, something that became very clear when Professor Snape assigned your class, which you shared with the Gryffindors, the difficult task of brewing Draught of Living Death, a highly advanced sleeping potion that could render someone unconscious with just a single drop.  

One of the Gryffindors groaned in frustration. “Sir, this is way too advanced—”

“If it’s too difficult for your little Gryffindor hands,” Snape sneered, cutting him off, “perhaps you should take notes on how some of the Slytherins are managing. Particularly Miss Y/N.”

Your ears burned at the attention as several students shuffled closer to your workstation, peeking at your bubbling cauldron. The only ones who didn’t approach were the Gryffindors at Mark’s table.  

You noticed that his potion was violently spewing green gas bubbles, and he looked deeply frustrated, brows knitted together as he stirred with precision.  

Letting your own potion simmer for a moment, you stood up and made your way over to his table. The chatter among his friends died down as you approached. Zhong Chenle, the boy sitting next to him, smacked his arm lightly to get his attention.  

Mark finally looked up, his glasses fogged from the potion fumes, and the front of his hair sticking up in all directions.  

You stifled a laugh.  

“Need help?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.  

Mark blinked at you, and for the first time since the train, you finally had his full attention.

“No, thanks. I got it.”  

The words had barely left Mark’s mouth when his potion let out another violent blorp, spewing a sickly green bubble into the air. It popped immediately, releasing a smell so putrid it made your stomach churn.  

“Dude, that smells like a troll’s ass,” Chenle cackled, covering his nose.  

Jaemin, who was sitting across from Mark, raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, mate. She’s the best in the class.” He shot you a grin. “Let her help.”  

Mark resisted the urge to groan. He knew they were right, but the last thing he wanted was for you to be the one correcting him. It was bad enough that you had been outshining him in every subject lately, now you were swooping in to save him too?  

But before he could protest again, you stepped closer to his cauldron making his entire body tense.

“What did you add to make it green like this?” you asked, peering into the potion. Your voice was calm, inquisitive like you weren’t there to gloat but to actually help.  

Mark clenched his jaw, eyes fixed stubbornly on the cauldron. “I did exactly as the instructions said.”  

Jaemin let out a small snort, clearly unconvinced.  

“Hm,” you hummed, examining the bubbling liquid. “You must’ve added more than three drops of Valerian root extract.”  

Mark frowned. Valerian root extract? He thought back to when he had been adding the ingredients, trying to get ahead of everyone. Had he miscounted? Maybe. Probably.  

You reached for a small vial of powdered sopophorous bean and sprinkled just a pinch into the potion. “This should balance it out and bring it back to its original black color,” you explained, gently stirring the mixture.  

Mark watched in reluctant amazement as the once-toxic green sludge darkened before his eyes, settling into the inky black shade it was supposed to be.  

He barely stopped his brows from rising in surprise. You had fixed it. Just like that.  

Mark swallowed down the frustrated lump in his throat. He wasn’t about to give you the satisfaction of knowing you had one-upped him again.  

“That was impressive, Y/N,” Jaemin said, clapping his hands.

“Thanks,” you said, smiling shyly. “The instructions in this book are a bit ambiguous, so I suggest adding less than what the recipe says at first, watching how the colors change, and then adjusting accordingly.”  

Mark exhaled slowly, forcing himself to loosen his grip on his stirring rod. He hated to admit it, but that was actually… good advice.  

Still, he kept his eyes on his potion, refusing to look at you or thank you for helping. 

"You should start sitting with us, Y/N," Chenle said, grinning like a cat as he threw an arm around Mark. "So you can help our boy here, who’s clearly lost."

Mark didn’t miss the way your eyes lit up at the invitation. And that was exactly why he needed to shut this down immediately.

He knew about your little crush on him, everyone did. You weren’t exactly subtle about it. You always looked at him with those heart eyes across the Great Hall, his friends teased him about it constantly. You also cheered the loudest for him at every Quidditch match, even when he was playing against Slytherin. Even when your house lost. He’d seen the way your own housemates sneered at you for it, the way they mocked your infatuation, but you never seemed to care.

The other thing about you was that you were so unapologetically Muggle-born.

Not that Mark cared about blood status. He wasn't that kind of wizard, despite coming from a long line of pure-bloods. But you made it so difficult for yourself. You didn’t even try to blend in among your Slytherin peers. You didn’t mind their teasing, didn’t care that you had practically no friends in your own house.

It was frustrating, the way you took every jab with a smile, like none of it ever got to you. But what frustrated him even more was that whenever he said anything, whenever he so much as muttered something slightly harsh, your whole face fell.

And for some stupid reason, that bothered him more than it should.

“Sorry, this table is already full,” Mark said, once again avoiding your gaze. He imagined the way your smile faltered.

“What are you talking about? There’s plenty of—”

Mark elbowed Chenle sharply in the stomach.

“Like I said, the table’s full.”

“Oh… okay,” you murmured, your head dipping slightly. “Then I’ll leave you to it.”

Mark didn’t watch you walk away, but he could feel the disappointment in your steps.

“Dude, you’re so mean to her,” Jaemin muttered, his eyes still on your retreating figure. “She clearly likes you.”

“Whatever,” Mark huffed, waving him off. “Let’s focus on something else.” He ignored the knowing smirk Jaemin shot him and tried—failed—to ignore the creeping warmth rising up his neck.

In your third year, you found a passion for Herbology.

Mark should’ve been relieved. After all, the more time you spent in the greenhouse, the less time you spent trying to talk to him. And at first, it was great. He barely had to think about you at all.

But then… it became his problem.

Because one day, he started noticing small bowls of water left in his usual spots—on the Gryffindor table, outside the Quidditch locker room, even near the Gryffindor common room entrance. At first, he ignored them. Maybe some first-years were testing a spell. Maybe it was a coincidence.

Then, he saw the petals floating in the water shift and transform into delicate, shimmering fish as soon as he grabbed the bowl.

And Mark hated to admit it… but it intrigued him. The magic was advanced, something most students their age wouldn’t even attempt. He even caught himself watching the tiny enchanted fish, mesmerized by the way their colors glowed under the candlelight.

That was his mistake, because his friends noticed.

“You’re actually accepting her gifts now,” Chenle teased, crossing his arms as Mark peeled off his muddy Quidditch uniform.

“We don’t even know if it’s hers,” Mark argued, tossing his gloves onto the bench.

Jaemin snorted. “Do you really think anyone else in our year knows how to do that kind of magic?”

“Yeah, she’s the only one crazy enough about you to put in that much effort,” Chenle added with a smirk.

Mark rolled his eyes. “There are other girls who like me, you know.”

Jaemin raised an eyebrow. “Are there? ’Cause I feel like Y/N’s already scared them all off.”

Chenle laughed. “Honestly, just give her a chance. She’s pretty, and let’s be real, she’d probably do anything for you.”

Mark sighed, rubbing a towel over his damp hair.

They didn’t get it. He’d spent years running from you, dodging your attempts, shutting down any rumors before they could spread. He couldn’t just give in now.

Maybe it didn’t make sense to anyone else.

But it did to him.

So he kept doing what made the most sense to him, and one day, you found yourself walking into the greenhouse when your eyes immediately spotted the familiar bowls scattered across the table. Your heart clenched at the sight, but you refused to believe Mark would just discard your gifts like that.

But as you approached, you noticed something that made your stomach twist painfully. The fish, once so vibrant and lively, now lay still in the water. They barely moved. They didn't swim with the same energy, the same color that had once made them sparkle. They just stayed there, like lifeless figures floating in stagnant water. And, as ridiculous as it sounded, you could almost swear they looked sad.

It hit you like a physical blow. Mark really didn’t want anything to do with you. 

The realization didn’t come alone, though. You’d noticed it over the last few months, but you’d been too stubborn to admit it to yourself. Mark had been spending more time with a girl from Ravenclaw. You didn’t even know her name, but the way they talked and laughed together, the way he’d smile at her with that soft look you’d always hoped to get... It was all the confirmation you needed. Mark Lee wasn’t just avoiding you… he was interested in someone else.

You stood there in the greenhouse, staring at the fish, a sinking feeling settling deep in your chest. He didn’t care about you the way you’d always hoped. 

In your fourth year, you decided it was time to focus on yourself. To put Mark away and finally let go of your feelings for him.

You’d been practicing something called Occlumency. Professor Snape had given you a book on it and told you it would help you shield away any distractions when you started falling behind in class due to your little infatuation with a certain seeker.

“This is very advanced magic,” Snape had said, handing you the book with a knowing look, “and it takes months, sometimes years, of practice to master it.”

And practice you did. Every day, you worked at it, pushing your emotions into a mental drawer and locking it away. It was hard at first. Your thoughts kept wandering back to Mark, but slowly, you began to make progress. You learned to control your thoughts, to put each memory, each feeling about him into that mental drawer, one by one, and shove it far back in your mind.

The more you practiced, the easier it became. It wasn’t perfect, but over the course of the year, you started to feel a strange sense of indifference towards Mark Lee.

At least until The Yule Ball was announced in the middle of the term. Even with all your hard work on Occlumency, you couldn’t stop the twinge of longing that crept in. You knew Mark would be going with Mia, the Ravenclaw girl whose name you had learned through the whispers of the school. It wasn’t like you had any right to feel disappointed, but the nagging thought of asking him yourself refused to leave your mind.  

You had planned to skip the celebration altogether. The last thing you wanted was to sit alone while Mark and Mia danced, all dressed up and happy.

But that changed one afternoon in the library when you were buried in research on Venomous Tentacula for a Herbology project

The library was the one place where you could lose yourself without interruption, so you were caught off guard when you heard footsteps approaching and a voice calling your name.

“Hey, Y/N, right?”  

You turned, surprised to see Lee Haechan standing there. He was easily one of the most popular guys in Slytherin, the kind of person who always had a group of friends around him, cracking jokes and showing off on the Quidditch pitch. He wasn’t one to hang around in the library by himself during a free period. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had spoken to him—if you ever had.  

“Yeah,” you answered, your voice more guarded than usual.

You were used to your fellow Slytherins teasing you for the smallest things, such as your Muggle clothes or the way you searched for books manually instead of having Madam Pince summon them for you.

“You probably don’t remember, but last year, you helped me during the Potions final,” he said, his tone surprisingly shy. It was a sharp contrast to the cocky confidence he usually carried.  

You thought back, remembering how badly he had struggled to keep his assigned potion from bubbling over and spilling across the table. You had only helped him because if his potion had spilled into yours, it would’ve ruined your work. But you didn’t tell him that.  

“I remember,” you said, reaching for a book on a higher shelf.  

Before you could grab it, he stepped closer, plucking it from the shelf with ease.  

“Thanks,” you muttered, slightly suspicious of the unexpected kindness.  

Then he said something that completely threw you off balance. “Listen, I heard you don’t have a date for the Yule Ball.”

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but your fingers tightened slightly around the book. Lee Haechan, of all people, was bringing up the Yule Ball? He was one of the most sought-after guys in Slytherin, and yet here he was, talking to you about the biggest event of the year.  

“I’m not really planning on going,” you said, brushing off the conversation as you moved toward a nearby table.  

And, of course, he followed.  

“Really? Why not?” he asked, dropping into the seat across from you.  

You sighed, knowing he wouldn’t leave you alone until you answered. “For starters, I don’t dance.” You flipped open your book, eyes scanning the pages in an attempt to distract yourself.

Haechan leaned forward slightly. “Ah, that’s an easy fix. I can teach you.”  

You glanced up, raising a brow. “Where is all this coming from, Haechan?”  

His smile widened when you said his name “I thought it was obvious,” he said. “I want you to go to the dance with me.”  

You stared at him, waiting for the punchline, for the moment he’d burst into laughter and reveal it was all some elaborate joke. But he didn’t laugh. He just watched you, his smile still in place.  

“Me?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.  

He nodded. “You have pretty eyes, by the way.” His voice was casual as if he were just commenting on the weather. You nearly choked on your own breath, covering it up with an exaggerated cough.

“Did anyone ever tell you that?” he continued, watching your reaction with obvious amusement.  

You willed yourself to stay composed, but your heart was racing. What was he playing at?  

“Why would you want to go with me?” you asked. “It can’t just be because I helped you once on a test.”  

“Why not?” He rested his chin in his hand. “Maybe I’m extremely grateful and want to repay you.”  

Your heart beat faster than you wanted it to, and you couldn’t tell if he was just messing with you or if he actually meant it. Haechan had a teasing air about him that made it impossible to tell. Was this a bet with his friends? Or did he just enjoy seeing you flustered?

You hesitated, trying to find the right words, but before you could say anything, he stood abruptly.  

“Sleep on it if you want,” he said with a grin. “You can tell me after the Quidditch game on Saturday.”

“Oh, but I wasn’t planning on—”

“I’ll see you there, Y/N,” Haechan said, cutting you off with a wave. Before you could protest, he walked away, leaving you in stunned silence.  

The next few days were strange. Haechan was clearly hovering around you. He wasn’t making it obvious, but you were observant enough to notice that he wasn’t skipping some of your shared classes anymore. He had also started spending time in the library even though you’d rarely seen him there before. He didn’t approach you, but you felt his eyes on you every time.  

You also realized he was checking out books right after you did. It was oddly amusing, so you decided to mess with him one day.

You had spent enough time in the library to know how to take books from the Restricted Section without alerting Madam Pince. You pretended to read over one, placed it on a different shelf, and waited. A few minutes later, you spotted Haechan heading straight for that section.  

Silence filled the air, then a bloodcurdling scream rang through the library. The sound of a book hitting the floor echoed through the rows of shelves. Moments later, Haechan rushed out, his wide eyes locking onto you as you hunched over, struggling to hold in your laughter.  

“I’m guessing that was your doing,” he said, dropping into the seat beside you.  

You shook your head, still grinning. “That’s just a security mechanism all the books from the Restricted Section have.”  

His brows lifted, amusement flickering in his gaze. “How did you even get a book out of there without a professor’s note?”  

You shrugged. “I have my ways.”  

He tilted his head slightly, watching you with something that made you suddenly self-conscious. “You keep surprising me, Y/N.”  

Across the library, Mark sat at a table with Mia, his Potions textbook open in front of him but he wasn't reading anymore and his quill was static in the air. His gaze was locked on you and Haechan, watching the way you leaned in, the way your laughter softened the space between you. Mia followed his stare, then let out a quiet hum.  

“What an odd picture, huh?”  

Mark blinked, tearing his eyes away. “What?”  

Mia tilted her head, her quill twirling between her fingers. “They’re from the same house, sure, but Haechan is one of the most popular guys in school.” She glanced over at you, then back at Mark, a slow smile tugging at her lips. “And she… isn’t she kind of an outcast? Even in her own house?”  

Mark tried to keep his tone neutral and disinterested  “So?”  

Mia let out a soft laugh, dipping her quill in ink. “Isn’t it obvious? He’s probably just bored. Using her for his own amusement.”  

Mark glanced back at your table. Haechan was leaning in, grinning as he spoke to you. You looked up at him with something close to exasperation, but there was a smile playing on your lips. It was weird. You didn’t smile like that often.

He ignored the way something twisted in his chest. “You don’t know that,” he muttered, forcing his eyes back to his parchment.  

Mia hummed, unconvinced. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

The next morning, you woke up earlier than usual for a Saturday with a quiet sense of dread settling over you. Instead of heading to the greenhouse like you normally would, you made your way to the Quidditch pitch, the crisp morning air biting at your skin. You had layered up so much that your scarf nearly swallowed half your face, but even with the extra warmth, you wished you were still curled up in bed.  

When you reached the stands, the realization hit you like a punch to your face—today’s match was against Gryffindor.

You should’ve known, but school events had barely been on your radar between your Occlumency lessons and your herbology studies.  

You climbed up to the Slytherin side of the stands, slipping into a seat in the back row. It wasn’t crowded yet, and you hoped to stay unnoticed, keeping your head low. The last thing you wanted was to catch the attention of a certain seeker. Or two. Not that Mark would be looking your way anyway.  

The distant whoosh of broomsticks cut through the morning stillness, and then, all at once, the stadium came alive. Players soared onto the pitch in a blur of red and green, the announcer’s voice booming through the enchanted speakers. You were only half-listening when you noticed Haechan scanning the crowd.  

You set to ignore him when his eyes landed on you.  

He mouthed something, but you couldn’t quite make out the words from the distance. His lips moved again, slower this time, like he was asking a question.  

You hesitated, then lifted your hand in a thumbs-up, hoping that would satisfy whatever he wanted. Though you immediately regretted it when you felt the weight of other eyes shifting onto you. People had noticed the exchange. Your face burned, and you quickly looked away.

The game began, and you tried to focus. Your eyes followed Haechan for most of it, but every so often, your Occlumency walls slipped, and your gaze found Mark. He was fast, his broom cutting through the air as he scoured the pitch for the Snitch. Haechan was right on his tail, matching his every turn, the two of them locked in a battle of speed.  

You knew Mark was a talented seeker. He was quick and light in the air, but his broom wasn’t as fast as Haechan’s, and that made some difference.  

You weren’t really rooting for either of them. At least, that’s what you told yourself. Though the right thing to do as a Slytherin would be to hope for Haechan’s victory.  

The crowd suddenly roared, breaking you from your thoughts. Both seekers had disappeared behind one of the towers in a steep dive, and they were gone for a few agonizing seconds. Then, like a flash of green lightning, Haechan shot back into the air, arm raised, the golden Snitch clutched tight in his fist. 

The Slytherins around you erupted into cheers, the stands vibrating with excitement. You blinked, then let yourself be swept up in the celebration, joining the chorus of triumphant screams.

Haechan suddenly veered toward the stands, his broom tilting slightly as he hovered just above the crowd. He brought the Snitch to his lips, pressing a quick kiss to its delicate golden surface before tossing it in your direction. Your hands reacted before your mind could catch up, fingers closing around the tiny fluttering ball with ease.  

A collective gasp rippled through the Slytherin section, eyes darting between you and Haechan.  

"Y/N!" Haechan called out, his voice carrying effortlessly over the noise of the crowd. "Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?"  

The world felt like it had slowed.  

You hated attention. You hated feeling like all eyes were on you. But what you hated the most in that moment was the fact that Mark was there, hovering just behind Haechan, watching everything unfold. His broom was still, his expression neutral, but you could feel his eyes burning into you, waiting for your response.  

"So," Haechan prompted, his voice a little breathless from the cold and the game, his nose and cheeks tinged pink. "What's your answer?"  

Your fingers tightened around the Snitch. You risked a quick glance at Mark, searching for something—anything—in his face. But all you could see was the annoyance from losing the match.  

There was only one right answer.  

"Okay," you said.  

Haechan grinned, throwing his arms up in victory. The crowd erupted, voices overlapping as cheers and chants of his name filled the air.

Mark wasn’t on his best game today. He was usually laser-focused before a match, but things weren’t going right thia morning. First, someone pulled a prank and turned his Quidditch robes a bright pink. Now, he was stuck wearing Sungchan’s, which were way too big. They hung loosely around his shoulders and got in the way whenever he tried to move.  

On top of that, Mark was in a strangely sour mood, though he couldn’t figure out why. Everything felt off. The broom didn’t feel right in his hands, and the wind felt harsher than usual.  

Then he saw you in the stands.  

At first, he thought you were there for him. You usually came to cheer him on, so it made sense. But when Lee Haechan flew by and his face lit up when he saw you, Mark realized he’d been wrong. You looked flustered, but you still gave him a thumbs up.  

So, you weren’t there for him? That was okay. Actually, it was better than okay.  

But then Haechan wouldn’t stop. He kept swooping around Mark, poking fun.  

“A little slow today, huh?” Haechan called as he flew beside Mark. “You looking a little distracted, Lee.”  

Mark narrowed his eyes. “Focus on your game,” he said, his tone clipped.  

“Oh, I am.” Haechan’s eyes flickered to you in the stands, where you were rubbing your hands together for warmth.  

Mark’s focus broke. The rest of the game felt like a blur.

He was usually the fastest to spot the snitch. No matter who he played against, his eyes always found it first. And Haechan wasn’t known for being the most observant player, so when Mark saw the snitch fluttering just a few feet away, he immediately maneuvered toward it. But his borrowed robes dragged around his legs, slowing him down. By the time he managed to free himself, Haechan had already spotted the snitch and was racing toward it.  

Mark pushed forward, forcing his broom to match Haechan’s speed. When he caught up, the Slytherin boy turned to him with a smirk and a challenge in his eyes.  

“First one to catch it wins the prize,” Haechan said.  

Mark frowned. There was no prize for catching the snitch. The cup at the end of the year depended on accumulated wins, and there were still plenty of matches left. But then it clicked. Haechan wasn’t talking about the cup. He was talking about you.  

For some ridiculous reason, he thought Mark was interested in you.  

The snitch suddenly dove, and both seekers followed. They jostled for position, each elbowing the other to get ahead. But then Haechan leaned forward, and it was like his broom had shifted into another gear. He shot ahead, leaving Mark behind with no chance to catch up.  

When Mark rose back to the pitch, he already knew he had lost.  

It shouldn’t have pissed him off as much as it did. Gryffindor had been on a winning streak for the past three matches, and they were still leading. This loss wouldn’t hurt them in the long run. But something about losing to Haechan irritated him.  

It definitely wasn’t the fact that Haechan flew straight toward you. It wasn’t the fact that he tossed you the snitch and asked you, in front of the entire school, to go to the dance with him.  

Mark didn’t know why his ribs felt tight against his chest or why he found himself waiting for you to look at him. But then you did, and all he could do was scowl.  

And then you said okay.  

Mark didn’t want to hear the cheers so he turned his broom and flew away.

It was the night of the Yule Ball, and you were nervous. Ever since the match, you had started getting more attention from your fellow Slytherins. Some of it was good, some of it wasn’t. A few girls had taken an interest in you, though, and they were nice enough that you didn’t feel the need to keep your guard up so you didn't refuse when they offered to help you get ready for the ball.

“You have really pretty eyes,” Minjeong said, tilting your chin up. “I think if we curl your lashes and tweeze your brows a bit, they’d stand out even more.”  

“Oh. Thanks,” you said, shifting awkwardly on the vanity stool they had just enchanted into existence in the dorm.  

“I hope you don’t mind,” Karina started, eyes bright with excitement, “but I made some modifications to your dress.”  

You tensed. “What? What kind of modifications?”  

“Oh, just a few little ones,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “I mean… you’re about to show up with the most popular Slytherin guy. You can't wear something plain.”  

“Right,” Minjeong agreed, blending eyeshadow onto your lids. “You have to show everyone you’re on his level.”  

You weren’t sure how you felt about that. But you let them work. They curled and pinned your hair, dusted powders and pigments onto your face, and finished off with a few well-placed glamour enchantments. When they finally let you open your eyes, the reflection staring back at you was almost unrecognizable.  

“This is our best work yet,” Minjeong said, clapping Karina on the back.  

“Absolutely,” the taller girl agreed, looking satisfied.  

Your hair fell in soft curls over your shoulders, half-pinned in the back with what looked like strands of shimmering tinsel woven in. Your eyes somehow looked bigger, framed by thick lashes that made them seem darker, more intense. Your brows were perfectly shaped, giving your face a softer, more refined look.  

“Okay, now put on the dress! We’ll go get ready,” Karina said, pointing toward the neatly laid-out fabric on your bed.  

Before you could say anything, they were already out the door.  

“Thank you!” you called after them, but they were long gone.

You turned toward the bed, hands smoothing over the fabric of the dress Karina had "modified". To your relief, it was still elegant and not overly flashy. The gown was a soft, silvery blue with a delicate shimmer that caught the light when you moved. The bodice was fitted but modest, with sheer lace sleeves that draped lightly over your shoulders. The skirt flowed down in gentle layers of airy fabric, giving it an almost weightless quality. It was pretty, delicate, and just fancy enough to make it clear you hadn’t thrown it together last minute.  

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. At least it wasn’t anything too dramatic.

When you stepped out of the girls' dorm and into the Slytherin common room, your heart pounded so loudly you were sure someone could hear it. Haechan was waiting for you, and the moment your eyes met, you noticed how the entire room seemed to pause. Conversations quieted, and nearly every gaze turned toward you.   

“Wow… you look so… wow,” Haechan stammered, walking up to you. His expression was so genuinely stunned that you felt warmth rise to your cheeks.

“You look gorgeous, and I don’t think that even describes it well.” He took your hand and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles, his lips curling into a grin when he noticed how flustered you looked.   

“Hah, thanks,” you chuckled nervously. “You look nice too.” He did. His black suit fit him well, long robes flowing behind him, accented with silver details that made him look effortlessly put together. His hair was slicked back, but a single strand had fallen over his forehead, softening his sharp features.  

He placed a hand on your back and led you up the stairs and out of the dungeons, you instinctively held onto his arm to steady yourself.   

Thankfully, by the time you reached the Great Hall, the attention had shifted from you. The room was filled with students dressed in elegant robes, sparkling gowns, and tailored suits, each more dazzling than the next. The sheer number of people made it easy to blend in, or so you thought.  

Because somewhere across the hall, a particular Gryffindor’s eyes never left you.

“Who is that?” Jaemin asked, his mouth hanging open in disbelief.   

“That’s Y/N, idiot,” Chenle replied, looking equally stunned.   

“No way… seriously?” Jaemin’s eyes widened.   

“Now she finally looks like she could really date someone like Lee Haechan,” Mia chimed in, sipping her drink with a raised eyebrow.   

Mark didn’t respond. His gaze remained fixed on you across the room.   

“Cat got your tongue?” Mia teased, and Mark snapped out of his trance, his eyes meeting hers.   

“No…uhm… she looks the same to me.” Mark muttered before walking away.   

You ended up enjoying yourself far more than you’d expected. Haechan was surprisingly fun to be around, and he wasn’t getting too touchy, which you appreciated. You both jumped and swayed to the music of the Weird Sisters.   

“I hate this band!” Haechan shouted over the noise, but his feet didn’t stop moving.   

You burst out laughing. “Me too.”  

He grinned at you, his face flushed, both of you breathless and sweaty.

Then, out of nowhere, he asked, “Hey, what’s up with you and Mark Lee?”

Your laughter died in your throat.

“Huh? Nothing, why?” you stammered, trying to hide your nerves.   

“Because he’s looking at me like he wants to hex my head off,” Haechan said, chuckling.   

You glanced over your shoulder and saw Mark indeed staring in your direction. His expression was tight, angry even, but there was something else there too. Beside him, Mia was practically clawing at his attention, asking him something. He simply shook his head, dismissing her with a frown before she stormed off.   

“Don’t mind him,” you said, turning back to Haechan, but he was already watching you.

“I’m not,” he said softly, his hands finding yours. 

Suddenly, you were standing closer to him, and you had to tilt your head to meet his gaze. The music shifted into a slower tune, and your heart skipped a beat when you realized how close he was now.   

“Stop me if you’re not okay with this,” he murmured, his breath warm against your face. Before you could even process, his lips brushed yours, and then he closed the gap entirely.

Haechan’s lips were soft against yours, and for a brief moment, the world around you disappeared. The music faded into the background, the chatter of students blurred into nothing, and it was just the two of you.  

Then, all at once, everything shattered.  

A loud crack echoed through the Great Hall, and before you could process what was happening, something thick and cold splattered down your back. You gasped, stumbling away from Haechan as a chilling sensation spread over your skin. A murmur rippled through the crowd as gasps and stifled laughter filled the air.  

You looked down. Dark, sticky liquid seeped into the delicate fabric of your dress, staining the soft silk into something sickly and ruined. A pungent smell filled your nose. You barely had time to react before your dress started shrinking.  

Your breath caught as the bodice tightened, the fabric pulling uncomfortably against your ribs, cinching around your waist like an invisible grip. Your sleeves vanished, and the hemline shot up several inches in one horrifying swoop, exposing far too much of your legs.  

The laughter grew louder.  

You clenched your fists, heart pounding as humiliation crashed over you in waves.  

“What the hell?” Haechan’s voice rang out, sharp and furious. He whipped around, wand drawn, eyes scanning the hall for the culprit.  

And then your gaze landed on Mark.  

He stood several feet away, his wand still faintly sparking at the tip. His expression was frozen, his face a shade paler than before. His mouth was slightly open, like he wasn’t sure how the spell had left his lips in the first place.  

But you didn’t see uncertainty. You didn’t see hesitation or guilt. All you saw was an angry boy.  

A boy who barely acknowledged you before. A boy who always seemed unimpressed by your very existence. A boy who just humiliated you in front of the entire school.  

Your throat tightened.  

He really hated you that much.  

Haechan was already stepping in front of you, blocking you from the murmuring students. His wand was still raised, his grip so tight his knuckles had gone white.  

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Lee?” His voice cut through the noise, venom dripping from every word.  

Mark didn’t respond. His jaw was clenched, his fingers twitching like he wanted to undo what he had just done. But he didn’t move.  

Your breath was shaky as you forced your voice to come out steady. “You didn’t have to do that.”  

Mark’s gaze snapped to you, something flickering in his eyes. But you didn’t care what it was.  

“You could’ve just ignored me like you always do,” you continued, your voice sharper now, your chest rising and falling with barely contained anger. “You didn’t have to humiliate me.”  

Mark opened his mouth, but for once, he had nothing to say.  

You swallowed against the lump in your throat, then turned away.  

Haechan was already pulling off his robe, draping it over your shoulders before wrapping a protective arm around you. “C’mon, let’s go,” he muttered under his breath, shooting one last glare in Mark’s direction before leading you out of the Great Hall.  

Mark didn’t mean to stare.

But from the second you stepped into the Great Hall, he couldn’t seem to look away.

You didn’t look different. That’s what he told himself. It was just a dress. Just some makeup. Just a bunch of pointless glamour spells. Nothing about you had actually changed.

And yet.

And yet.

His grip tightened around the goblet in his hand as he watched you dance with Haechan, laughing at something he said, looking so damn happy at his side. Mark didn’t even know Haechan that well, but for some reason, he hated him.

He hated the way Haechan touched your waist. He hated the way you let him pull you closer when the song slowed down. Hated the way you tilted your head to look up at him, that slight pause in your movements making it clear what was about to happen.

Mark’s heart slammed against his ribs, something bubbling up inside him, something sharp and hot and suffocating.

And before he even thought about what he was doing, his fingers twitched around his wand.

It happened too fast.

A crackle of magic shot from his wand like a reflex, like something instinctual, something uncontrollable. It streaked through the air, twisting and curling before hitting you and Haechan where you stood.

The Great Hall fell into silence and then laughter erupted.

Mark could barely register what had happened, only that you looked devastated. Your dress was drenched and shrinking until the delicate fabric was something ridiculous, something cruel, something designed to humiliate.

His blood ran cold. He had done that.

He hadn’t meant to. He didn’t even know what spell he cast, just that it happened because of the way you looked at Haechan. Because of the way Mark didn’t want you to look at Haechan.

Haechan’s voice cut through the buzzing in his ears.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Lee?”

You turned to him then, and when your eyes met his, something inside him dropped.

Because you didn’t only look angry. You looked… hurt.

"You didn't have to do that," you said, and it wasn’t an accusation. It was just... disappointment.

Mark felt something claw up his throat. But he couldn’t say anything.

He watched as you shook your head, your expression hardening as you pulled Haechan’s robe tighter around yourself.

"You could’ve just ignored me like you always do,” you said, voice sharp now. “You didn’t have to humiliate me."

Mark opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

And then you turned your back on him. And he just stood there still gripping his wand.

Still feeling that suffocating thing inside his chest.

Hating himself for the fact that he had only just realized what it was.

Mark felt like the ground had been yanked from under him. His whole body felt heavy, like he was stuck in some kind of nightmare where he could see everything going wrong but couldn’t stop it.

Jaemin sighed, shoving Mark’s wand into his own pocket. “Seriously, what the hell was that?”

Mark couldn’t answer. He was still staring at the spot where you’d stood, where you’d looked at him like he was the worst person in the world. 

Chenle shook his head. “Look, I don’t know what your problem is with her, but you actually humiliated her in front of everyone. That’s not just being petty, Mark. That’s being cruel.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Mark said quickly, voice hoarse, but even as the words left his mouth, he knew how weak they sounded. What did that even mean? That he hadn’t meant to hex you? That he hadn’t meant to let his jealousy swallow him whole?

Jaemin scoffed. “Well it sure as hell looked intentional.”

Mark ran a hand through his hair, frustration and guilt tangling in his throat. “I—I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking. It just—” He exhaled sharply. “It just happened.”

Jaemin exchanged a look with Chenle. “Right. It just happened that you hexed her right when she was kissing Haechan.”

Mark’s jaw tightened. He hated the way Jaemin said it. Like it was so obvious.

Chenle crossed his arms. “If you’re gonna act like this every time you see her with another guy, maybe just admit that you like her and spare everyone the dramatics.”

Mark flinched. “I don’t—”

Jaemin held up a hand. “Before you finish that sentence, think really hard about whether or not it’s a lie.”

Mark clamped his mouth shut. Because he didn’t know anymore.

But it didn’t matter, did it? Even if he did like you, what difference would it make?

You were the one who hated him now.

By the time your fifth year came around, you’d successfully mastered Occlumency so well that when you returned to school Mark was nothing more than a passing thought. The memories you had of him felt distant, like a foggy dream.

You never thought you’d feel this way, but it was almost freeing. The emotional weight he’d carried for so long was no longer crushing you. You were finally able to move on.

After what happened at the Yule Ball, you were relieved that Haechan seemed to understand you needed space. He kept things between you friendly, never bringing up the kiss or attempting to do it again. It made things easier, even if there was still an underlying tension whenever he caught your eye for too long. But just because he didn’t push for anything more didn’t mean he stopped very obviously flirting with you.

If anything, he seemed to have doubled down. Compliments slipped into every conversation, his arm would brush against yours whenever he passed by, and he always found some excuse to sit next to you in the common room or during meals. It was like he had claimed you in some unspoken way—not forcefully, or in a way that made you uncomfortable, but in a way that let everyone else know that he was still very much interested.

Karina and Minjeong, meanwhile, had become your biggest support system. For the first time, you felt like you truly had friends. And if they had one common enemy, it was Mark Lee.

“He is so pathetic,” Karina muttered, stabbing at her breakfast aggressively. “Walking around like a sad puppy as if he isn’t evil.”

“How dare the Gryffindors say we’re the house full of terrible people when they have someone like Mark Lee?” Minjeong scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

You hid a small smile behind your cup, already used to their daily Mark-related grievances. It had become routine at this point. Every morning, without fail, they found something new to complain about. And if they couldn’t find anything, they made something up.

“I mean, look at him,” Karina continued, tilting her head toward the Gryffindor table. “He’s just poking at his food and sighing dramatically. Does he expect us to feel bad?”

Minjeong rolled her eyes. “As if he has anything to be heartbroken over. He’s the one who embarrassed you in front of everyone. And now he has the audacity to mope around? Get a grip.”

You said nothing, focusing on your plate instead. You had built up your Occlumency walls so well that even you weren’t sure what you felt about Mark anymore. You weren’t angry. You weren’t sad. You weren’t… anything. And you were proud of that.

You stopped going to Quidditch games after a while. You just couldn’t shake the feeling of self-consciousness that crept in every time you stepped into the stands. But Karina and Minjeong convinced you to go today. It was Slytherin’s match, and though it was against Gryffindor, you agreed. You trusted your walls, confident that nothing could touch you now.

The game started, despite the pouring rain. The weather only seemed to make it more intense. The announcer’s voice echoed over the field, remarking on the lightning that nearly struck the Slytherin keeper. You could barely hear him over the storm.

Mark and Haechan were both darting across the sky, locked in pursuit of the Snitch. They were higher than the other players, cutting through the rain like streaks of lightning themselves. You tried to follow them with your eyes, but the thick raindrops blurred your vision and the gusts of wind whipped your hair into your face, making it harder to see. Then, all at once, the sky split open with a crack of lightning.

Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Mark’s broom fall from the sky, his body following in a terrifying, uncontrolled descent.

“Oh my god!” You gasped, your voice barely carrying over the storm. Time seemed to slow. Your mind raced as you realized that one of the professors had cast the Arresto Momentum charm just in time. The world around you shifted back into real-time, and suddenly, Mark’s body was lying motionless on the pitch.

He was unconscious but thankfully unscathed. The rain was pouring down in sheets now, mixing with the frenzy of footsteps as professors rushed to his side.

Without thinking, you slipped out of the stands, pushing through the chaos of the crowd. Your heart was hammering in your chest, your breath quickening as you neared the pitch. The professors were already at his side, checking him over carefully. You could barely breathe, the panic tightening around your chest.

“Mark,” you whispered, as if calling him out of a deep sleep.

When Mark woke up, the first thing he saw was Madam Pomfrey waving her wand over him, a soft golden light flickering at the tip as she muttered a diagnostic spell under her breath.

“Oh, great heavens! You’re finally awake,” she gasped, clutching her chest in relief. “I was beginning to think I’d have to send for St. Mungo’s. There was no reason for you to still be unconscious!”

Mark blinked a few times, his vision still slightly blurred, before realizing he wasn’t alone. Chenle and Jaemin were sitting nearby, their faces tight with concern.

“Mate, you scared the shit out of us,” Chenle said, his brows furrowed.

“We thought we lost you,” Jaemin added, a little too serious for Mark’s liking.

“What… happened?” Mark asked, his voice hoarse, as if he hadn’t had a sip of water in days.

“You fell off your broom from at least fifty feet in the air. It was insane,” Chenle said.

“I don’t… why don’t I remember anything?” Mark mumbled, wincing as a dull, throbbing pain settled in his skull.

“Professor McGonagall slowed your fall, but you still hit the ground pretty hard. You must’ve knocked your head,” Jaemin explained.

Madam Pomfrey huffed. “I’ll bring you a dose of Revitalizing Tonic, it should help with the disorientation. You two wrap things up and get to your dorms… it’s far too late for visitors.” She turned on her heel, bustling off toward her supply cabinet.

Jaemin scooted closer, watching Mark carefully. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got beat up by the Whomping Willow,” Mark muttered.

Chenle snorted. “You’re lucky you didn’t actually land on it. That would’ve been really bad.”

“We were all so worried. No one thought you’d wake up today,” Jaemin added.

“The whole team was here earlier,” Chenle continued. “Mia too… and, uh—Y/N was the last one to leave—”

“Wait, what?” Mark pushed himself up too fast, his head spinning in protest. “Y/N?”

“Yeah, we’re just as shocked as you are,” Chenle said. “She ran to the pitch the second you fell. I swear, I thought she was gonna pass out from how hard she was crying.”

“She looked like she was having a panic attack,” Jaemin added. “Professor Snape had to give her a Calming Draught.”

“I think she genuinely thought you were going to die,” Chenle said.

Mark’s stomach twisted painfully. His mind still felt sluggish from the fall, but that one piece of information cut through it like a blade.

You were crying over him? Panicking? That didn’t make any sense.

“This doesn’t…” Mark swallowed. “This doesn’t make any sense. Why would she—why would she care?” His voice was barely above a whisper, his chest ached in a way that had nothing to do with his injuries.

“Beats me,” Chenle shrugged. “She hasn’t talked to you in over a year. I was sure she hated your guts. But apparently, you’re harder to get over than we thought.”

Mark barely registered the teasing tone. His brain was running a mile a minute.

You were worried about him. You didn’t hate him? Or maybe… maybe it was just shock. Maybe seeing him fall had been scary in the moment, and once you knew he was okay, you'd go back to ignoring him. This didn't mean anything.

…Right?

After Chenle and Jaemin left, Mark knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Madam Pomfrey had left him a Sleeping Draught, which sat untouched on his bedside table.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what Jaemin said. How you ran onto the pitch, crying over him. It didn’t make sense. You hadn’t spared him a second glance since the Yule Ball. If anything, he would’ve preferred if you were still angry, if you had lashed out at him, screamed, hexed him—anything. 

But instead, you had simply erased him from your world. The few times you had looked at him had been either by accident or when he deliberately put himself in your way, and your eyes had always been so empty.

The door to the hospital wing suddenly creaked open. Mark assumed it was just the wind, or maybe Madam Pomfrey checking in on him, so he quickly shut his eyes and feigned sleep when he heard soft footsteps approaching.

For a moment, there was nothing. He almost convinced himself he had imagined it until he felt the weight shift at the edge of his bed.

Then, the sound of quiet, muffled sobs.

“Mark…”

His breath caught in his throat.

It was you.

Before he could even process it, your hand was suddenly on his face, fingers grazing his cheek in the softest touch. A shiver threatened to run down his spine, but he forced himself to stay still.

“I’m sorry…” Your voice was fragile. “I wished so many bad things on you last year… I feel like…like this is my fault.” A shaky inhale. “Please be okay.”

Mark wanted to sit up. Wanted to tell you it wasn’t your fault, that none of this was. That he had deserved everything you threw at him but not this guilt.

But if he moved, would you run? Would you slip away before he even had the chance to say anything?

He was too much of a coward to find out. So he stayed still, letting your fingers caress him, letting your words sink into his skin like a warmth he hadn’t felt in so long.

Mark was certain you had stayed the whole night. Even in the haze of half-sleep, he had felt your presence beside him. He only realized you had left when the first rays of sunlight began filtering through the hospital wing’s windows.

Madam Pomfrey cleared him to leave that morning, assuring him he wasn’t in any real danger anymore. She did, however, insist he avoid Quidditch for at least a week. Not that he particularly cared. There were no matches coming up, but even if there were, he doubted he’d be able to focus on anything other than you.

He didn’t know what to do with the new knowledge that you did care about him. That you had cried over him. That you had touched him so gently, so reverently, as if he were something precious. It should have been a relief, but it made him anxious instead. After all this time, after everything that he’d done to you, how was he supposed to approach you?

The thought of you looking at him with those same empty eyes, telling him to get lost, made his stomach twist.

No—he had to be smart about this. He had to find a moment when you were alone.

That would have been easy before, when you had no friends and spent most of your time buried in books or wandering the castle halls by yourself. But now? Now, you were constantly surrounded by Karina, by Minjeong, and worst of all, by Haechan.

Mark had been watching the two of you closely, trying to figure out if there was something going on. He knew Haechan was still pursuing you, that much was obvious, but you weren’t dating as far as he could tell. At least, he hadn’t heard anything about it.

Still, the thought gnawed at him.

After a lot of consideration, he decided the best way to talk to you was during your prefect rounds at night. The problem was figuring out when you were scheduled. If he had tried this a year ago, you probably would’ve handed over the information without question. Now? Not a chance.

So, he had to get creative.

It took some effort to figure out your schedule, but after bribing a few Slytherins with an unlimited supply of Fizzing Whizzbees from Honeydukes for the rest of the year, he learned that your shift usually started around 8 pm.

So by 7:59 pm, he was slipping out of the Fat Lady’s portrait, glancing around to make sure Filch wasn’t lurking in the shadows. His heart was pounding, but he wasn’t sure if it was from nerves or anticipation.

He was finally going to talk to you.

He figured you’d start your shift near the Slytherin common room, so he made his way toward the dungeons. Sure enough, there you were, walking slowly, completely absorbed in a book.

Mark couldn’t help but smile to himself.

"So much for staying vigilant during patrols," he finally said.

You flinched, nearly dropping your book. When you turned around, your wide eyes locked onto his, shimmering under the dim candlelight. For a second, all he could think about was how lovely you looked.

"Mark..." you breathed, almost like you couldn’t believe he was real.

"Hi," he said, scratching the back of his neck. He looked away for a moment, gathering the courage to step closer.

"Are you okay?" you asked, and the genuine concern in your tone made his heart stumble over itself.

"Yeah, it wasn’t that big of a deal," he chuckled nervously.

"Not a big deal?" Your brows furrowed, and your tone sharpened slightly. "You fell from the sky, Mark."

He wasn’t used to you looking at him after all this time, much less with worry.

"I’m sorry," he said, watching the way your hands clenched into fists at your sides. "I heard you were pretty shaken up after it."

"Yeah…" you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I was..."

Mark's heart jumped. He knew it already, he knew you had stayed by his bedside, knew you had cried over him—but hearing you say it made something in his chest tighten painfully.

Your eyes scanned him again, like you were checking to make sure he wouldn’t collapse at any second.

"I’m okay, I promise," he reassured you.

You nodded, then let out a sigh, glancing around as if suddenly remembering where you were.

"What are you doing outside your common room this late?"

Mark hesitated. Should he make up some excuse, or should he just tell the truth?

"If you were planning to sneak out with Mia, I’ll have you know that I must deduct points from your house and report it to Professor McGonagall," you said, your tone suddenly more detached. Just like that, the warmth in your expression flickered out, and your eyes went cold again.

Mark felt like he had just been shoved back into reality.

"No, no," he stammered quickly. "Mia and I are not… we’re not together."

You pursed your lips, nodding slowly. "Okay. Then why—"

"I wanted to talk to you," he blurted out. "To apologize. For everything. I never got the chance to back then."

"It’s been a year, Mark," you said flatly.

"Yeah, I know," he murmured. "But you still deserve an apology. And I know I don’t deserve to be forgiven, but… I needed to say it anyway."

His voice faded toward the end, barely audible. 

"Okay…" You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "You're forgiven. I don’t hold it against you anymore... I actually haven’t for a while."

"Really?" Mark blinked. "You don’t even care why I did it?"

"Not really. It doesn’t matter anymore."

"I want to explain, though," he insisted.

You simply nodded, waiting.

Mark took a deep breath. "I was an idiot back then… well, I guess I’m still an idiot but I was an angry idiot. And I don’t know what came over me… I took it out on you. But I swear, it wasn’t because I hated you. I never hated you." He exhaled sharply, as if forcing the words out before he lost the nerve. "I know you don’t have to believe me, but… I just—I need you to know that."

He spoke so fast, stumbling over his words. Afraid that if he paused, he wouldn’t get to say everything he wanted. By the time he finally stopped talking, your expression had softened just a little.

"I see…" You seemed to search for the right words before settling on a quiet, "I’m glad you told me." A small, tentative smile tugged at your lips.

But it didn’t ease the tightness in Mark’s chest. It didn’t make him feel any better. Because there was more, so much more he wanted to say, but he didn’t know how. And he was terrified.

"Do you wanna hang out?" he blurted before he could stop himself.

"Now…?" You glanced around, hesitating. "I’m kind of—"

"No! Sorry, I meant… later. Tomorrow, maybe? Or—I don’t know… whenever you can."

You stayed quiet for a moment, considering it. "Uhm… okay. Tomorrow. After class?"

Mark nodded too eagerly. "Yes! That sounds perfect." His voice came out overly excited, but he couldn’t help it.

"Okay. See you tomorrow, then." You gave him a small wave before turning away. "Now go before any of the other prefects see you."

Mark barely registered your warning, his mind was already racing ahead to tomorrow.

You were dreading your night shift as a prefect tonight. You hadn’t slept much after staying by Mark’s side all night. You heard he was discharged this morning, but not seeing him with your own eyes made you feel as if he was still hurt.

You had no idea how to deal with the knot in your stomach, so you brought a book with you hoping it would distract you. But even as you read the words on the pages, they blurred into one long line, your mind constantly flickering back to him.

You’d spent so long putting up walls inside your mind, careful to shield yourself from things that hurt too much. It had worked, mostly. You hadn’t felt anything deeply in a long time. But after the accident, those walls felt thinner, more fragile than ever.

And the minute Mark spoke behind you, you felt them crack.

Your whole body went stil and he was just standing there, smiling shyly at you. It took everything in you not to collapse in relief. 

You whispered his name and tried so hard not to let your emotions show. But everything felt too much, the relief, the fear, the overwhelming rush of memories and feelings you had buried for so long. You had to hold it all in. You couldn’t let him know how glad you were to see him. 

You were trying to remain composed, to keep your usual guard up, but with him standing there, looking so... so Mark,  

"Hi..." he said quietly. 

You forced yourself to speak. "Are you okay?" It was the question you had been waiting to ask, but it came out more desperate than you’d intended.

"Yeah, it wasn’t that big of a deal," Mark chuckled, the sound awkward and nervous. But even the way he said it made your heart sink with unease.

You couldn’t hide the irritation that sparked inside you, the remnants of the fear still clinging to your chest. "Not a big deal? You fell from the sky, Mark." The words left you harsher than you intended. You were so angry at the idea of losing him, so scared because it had been too close.

"I’m sorry, I heard you were pretty shaken after it." His voice was quieter now, and you could feel the way he was trying to reach you, even though the distance between you both felt insurmountable.

You nodded slowly, the walls inside your mind trying to reassemble themselves, trying to keep you composed. “Yeah... I was...."

The truth slipped out, and as soon as it did, you regretted it. You didn’t want him to know just how terrified you’d been that something might happen to him and you wouldn’t be able to truly tell him how you felt. The walls inside your mind cracked again.

"I’m okay, I promise," Mark said softly, his gaze holding yours, as if trying to assure you.

You wanted to close your eyes and pretend like everything was okay, but the walls kept wavering. You couldn’t trust that feeling, not yet.

You nodded, but the unease inside you didn’t go away. Not when you saw the way his eyes kept searching yours. You felt like you were standing on the edge of something you couldn’t control.  

The walls that had kept your emotions in check for so long were trembling now, and it was getting harder to keep them from falling. You needed to focus on something else, anything else.  

"What are you doing outside of your common room so late?" You forced the authority back into your voice. But you knew it didn’t fool anyone—not Mark, not even yourself.

He stumbled over his words, clearly nervous. "I wanted to speak to you. Apologize for everything. I never got the chance to back then."  

The words hit you like a sudden gust of wind, knocking the breath from your lungs. It wasn’t just an apology. It was him standing in front of you, looking so... raw. You weren’t sure if you were ready for everything he was willing to lay bare. But you couldn’t stop him. You couldn’t stop yourself from listening.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. "It’s been a year, Mark."

"I know. But you deserve an apology, and I know I don’t deserve to be forgiven, but still... I wanted to say it."

Your heart squeezed at the sincerity in his voice, but something inside you fought to keep the walls intact. The last time you’d allowed yourself to feel so exposed, it had ended in too much pain.  

"Okay..." You put a strand of hair behind your ear. "You’re forgiven... I don’t hold you to it anymore. I actually haven’t for a while."

His expression shifted in relief, but it didn’t bring the peace you thought it might. "You don’t care why I did it?"

You shook your head, forcing the walls to stay up. "Not really. It doesn’t matter anymore."

"I want to explain, though," Mark said, looking at you with an intensity you hadn’t seen in him before.

And you nodded, thinking that maybe it was okay to let the walls waver for now. 

So you heard him out when he nervously asked to hang out, and you ignored the logical part of you that told you you might get hurt again.

The next day, Mark woke up earlier than usual. He told himself he wasn’t making a big deal out of hanging out with you today, but he still spent longer than necessary in the shower. He even put on cologne, something he never did.

He only had two classes with you this year, and after the Yule Ball accident, he made a habit of sitting as far away as possible, just so you wouldn’t catch him sneaking glances every few minutes.

But today, he was going to sit next to you.

At least, that was the plan—until he walked into Divination and saw that Lee Haechan had already taken the seat beside you.

Mark blinked. He didn’t even know Haechan was in this class. Then again, he was pretty sure he had skipped most of the semester. And yet, he suddenly decided to show up today? Right when Mark was finally trying to make things right with you?

Mark scowled as he trudged to the table behind yours. Mia slid into the seat next to him, but he barely noticed her presence until she snapped her fingers in front of his face, breaking his intense staring contest with the back of Haechan’s head.

"Did you do something different to your hair?" Mia asked, eyeing him.

Mark instinctively ran a hand through it. He had used a bit of gel this morning, but now that she pointed it out, he felt self-conscious.

"No," he muttered, dropping his hand and forcing himself to focus on Professor Trelawney, who was currently droning on about the art of tea leaf reading.

"...And remember," she was saying dramatically, her bracelets jingling with every exaggerated movement, "the leaves do not lie! They reveal the truth hidden beneath the surface, the past, the present, and sometimes, if you are truly gifted, the future."

Mark barely listened, too distracted by the way Haechan kept whispering in your ear.

"Now! Pick a partner and interpret their tea leaves. It can be anyone's cup!"

Mark didn’t hesitate. He shot up from his seat, stepping around Mia and snatching your cup before Haechan could even reach for it.

You flinched slightly at the sudden movement, but when you looked up and saw it was him, you relaxed.

"Hello," Mark said, smiling.

You smiled back. "Hi."

From beside you, Haechan’s jaw tightened. "I see you’re alive."

Mark smirked. "You’re lucky I am or there’d be no witness to prove you didn’t push me off my broom."

“Guide yourselves with the book and pay close attention to the patterns so you can decipher what the tea leaves say,” Professor Trelawney cut in, her voice airy and theatrical as always.

“I guess I’ll look at your cup then.” You flicked your wand, summoning Mark’s cup toward you.

Haechan huffed beside you and settled for reading Mia’s cup instead.

Mark watched you tilt his teacup, your eyes scanning the damp leaves at the bottom with unnerving concentration. He’d never taken Divination seriously, Trelawney's constant doomsday prophecies were more of a running joke than anything, but the way you were studying his cup seriously made him realize you were exactly the opposite.

“Alright…” You murmured, brushing your fingers against the rim of the cup as you turned it slightly. “This shape here…it kind of looks like…” Your brows furrowed in thought before you glanced at the textbook. “A hound?”

“A hound?” Mark repeated, leaning in slightly.

“It symbolizes guilt.” You looked up at him then, and for a moment, the room felt too quiet. “Something that’s been eating at you for a while. Maybe something you want to say but haven’t faced properly yet.”

You were staring back into the cup as if searching for something more. Mark wanted to brush it off, make some joke about Professor Trelawney getting to your head, but the way you spoke made him hesitate.

“Well,” he started, clearing his throat, “that’s… ominous.”

“Maybe it just means he regrets not catching the Snitch before nearly cracking his skull open.” Haechan snorted, leaning back in his chair.

Mark’s jaw twitched but before he could open his mouth to say something, Professor Trelawney’s voice rang through the room.

“Now, now! I sense many of you are struggling to find clarity in the leaves, but do not fret! The Inner Eye is a gift not all possess.”

Mark turned your cup carefully in his hands, squinting at the clumps of tea leaves at the bottom like they might suddenly rearrange themselves into something comprehensible. They didn’t.

“Alright…” he said slowly, stalling for time. “So, um—this kind of looks like…” He tilted his head. “Maybe… a deer?”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “A deer?”

“Or… a horse,” he amended quickly. “Yeah. Definitely a horse. Which, uh, probably means…” He paused, grasping for anything remotely logical. “You have an adventurous spirit. And, um, bravery. And, like… untamed passion?”

Mia snorted from beside him, barely holding back her laughter, while Haechan outright scoffed.

Before you could tease him, Professor Trelawney materialized beside your table, her many scarves billowing behind her. She peered over Mark’s shoulder, tutting disapprovingly.

“I knew you didn’t have the Sight, my dear boy,” she said, shaking her head mournfully. “But fear not, Divination is an art that can be nurtured… even in those with less potential” She patted his shoulder with a dramatic flourish before floating off to torment another group.

Mark sighed, his ears burning red. But then he glanced at you and you were smiling. At him.

And suddenly, he didn’t care about looking like an idiot.

The bell rang before he could bring up your plans for later, and you left with a small wave. He spent the next few hours trying not to overthink it, but thankfully your last class of the day, Care of Magical Creatures, was together. That meant another chance.

Professor Kettleburn led the class out to the paddock, where a row of iron-reinforced cages sat waiting. Today’s lesson was on Chimeras.

Even Mark knew that was a terrible idea.

“Of course, we won’t be working with full-grown Chimeras,” Kettleburn reassured, “for obvious reasons. However, the Ministry has provided us with young ones under very, very careful supervision.”

He demonstrated the proper way to throw raw meat to the creatures. The chimera’s serpent tail lashed at him when he got too close, and the class collectively took a step back.

“Alright! Now, you lot give it a try!” Kettleburn beamed, seemingly unfazed by the near-death experience.

Mark grabbed a chunk of bloody meat and approached the enclosure, trying to ignore the way the chimera’s goat head was glaring at him. The moment he threw the meat, it hit the ground about a foot too short, and the beast let out a dissatisfied growl.

“This,” he muttered under his breath, watching as the chimera’s lion head snapped at him, “is why Professor Kettleburn has lost almost all his limbs.”

“Need help?”

Mark flinched at the sudden voice, turning to find you standing there, watching him with an amused tilt to your lips.

He huffed out a laugh. “You know, I’ve noticed you ask that a lot. Do I really look that helpless?”

You giggled. “Uhm… a bit.” Then, you took the meat from him and tossed it over the fence in one smooth motion. The chimera caught it mid-air, seeming significantly less hostile toward you than it had been toward him.

Mark blinked. “Is there anything you’re not good at?”

“Yeah,” you admitted. “I’m a terrible flyer.”

Mark scoffed. “That’s the one thing I think I’m good at.”

“Oh, I’ve heard.” You said it casually, but both of you knew you’d been to almost every single one of his Quidditch matches since first year.

He hesitated, then rubbed the back of his neck, summoning whatever courage he had left. “So… did you still want to hang out today?”

“Yes,” you said without hesitation. “How about the library?”

Mark barely resisted the urge to groan. He tried to keep his face neutral, but you noticed the way he grimaced.

You smirked. “Or we can do the greenhouse?”

His expression instantly lightened. “Yes! That sounds good.”

And when you turned back toward the chimera, Mark found himself staring a little too long. He’d never really noticed how pretty your eyes were. Or maybe he had, and he’d just forced himself to ignore it. But now—now he couldn't stop seeing them. The way they glowed when you got something right in class, the way they sparkled when you looked at him for the first time on the train all those years ago.

He missed that. The way you used to adore him.

And he hated himself for wasting it—because he’d been too much of a coward. Too immature to handle something so good.

After your last class, you made your way back to the Slytherin dorms, stopping in front of your mirror to fix your uniform and contemplate whether a simple glamour charm might make your cheeks look a bit rosier. Not that you were dressing up for Mark, obviously.

You weren’t sure how to feel about his sudden shift in attitude. He’d never been this… nice before. And maybe you were quick to accept it because you’d spent the past few days terrified of losing him. But was that enough of a reason to let your guard down?

You sighed, closing your eyes and practicing Occlumency for a few minutes before heading out. You knew you’d need your walls strong if you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him.

When you stepped into the common room, Karina and Minjeong were hunched over a Potions essay they definitely should’ve finished by now.

“And where are you going all dolled up?” Karina asked, looking up from her parchment.

“What? I look the same as I always do,” you said, feigning nonchalance.

Minjeong raised an eyebrow. “Are you meeting Haechan?”

It would’ve been easier to say yes. But they’d find out soon enough when Haechan inevitably strolled through the door looking for you.

“No, I’m going to go check on the Venomous Tentacula.” You were actually proud of how quickly you came up with the lie.

“Okay. Boooring.” Karina waved you off, already focused back on her essay.

You smiled quickly, muttered a goodbye, and slipped out of the common room before they could ask anything else.

When you arrived at the greenhouse, Mark was already there. He straightened up the moment he saw you, hands fidgeting slightly at his sides. But then you noticed he was holding something. A flower.

Not just any flower... a Moonbloom Orchid. A rare magical plant that was known to change colors based on the emotions of the person holding it, and right now, its soft lavender hue radiated warmth and quiet affection.

Your eyes widened. “Oh my god, Mark… it’s so pretty. How did you get it?”

Mark shrugged, trying to seem casual. “Oh, it wasn’t that hard to find.”

That was a complete lie.

He had sneaked out to Hogsmeade during his free period yesterday and asked around every store, pub, and dodgy corner for hours, trying to track one down. He had spent almost all his galleons on it.

But looking at your face, your excitement, he decided it was worth every single one.

“Thank you. I love it,” you said, your fingers brushing over the glowing petals as you smiled up at him.  

And that smile—Merlin, that smile—hit Mark like a Bludger to the chest.  

For the first time, maybe ever, he wanted to kiss you. Really kiss you. Not in some fleeting, passing thought but in a way that made his heart pound and his throat tighten. The desire was so sudden, so strong, it nearly knocked him off balance.  

He cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Okay, so… want to show me around?” he asked, as if he hadn’t been having lessons in this greenhouse for years.  

You giggled, and he could tell by the amused glint in your eyes that you saw right through him. “Sure,” you said, playing along. “I guess I can show you what I’ve been working on.”  

You led him toward a section of the greenhouse that looked darker, the air thick with the scent of damp soil and something faintly spicy. Twisting vines curled around the edges of a wooden planter, their leaves twitching slightly as you approached.  

“These are pretty hard to find,” you explained, crouching beside the pot. “I begged Professor Sprout to let me plant the seeds I found. Don’t ask where I found them, though.”  

Mark raised a brow, intrigued, but he didn’t press.  

“You really love this stuff, huh?” he asked instead.  

You glanced up at him, then back at the plant, lightly running your fingers over its writhing leaves. The Venomous Tentacula shuddered, curling toward your touch as if it recognized you.  

“I guess I do,” you admitted. “I don’t know… I feel comfortable around plants. I can feel their emotions, almost.  Even if they can’t really express it… I guess I relate to that”  

Mark watched you carefully, noting the way you hesitated like there was something more you wanted to say but couldn’t quite bring yourself to.  

The way you spoke about plants… it was almost the way he felt about you.  

Something real and quiet. Something he had never really put into words because he didn’t know how.  Because even now, standing next to you, close enough that he could see the way the evening light reflected in your eyes, he felt like he shouldn’t want it.  

Mark wasn’t sure how long he stood there just watching you, but it was long enough for you to notice.

You blinked up at him, tilting your head slightly. “What?”

He shook his head, forcing a laugh. “Nothing,” he said.

But it wasn’t nothing. It was the way the soft glow of the sunset made you look almost unreal. The way your lips parted slightly, like you were about to say something, only to change your mind. The way his own thoughts were a mess, tangled somewhere between I shouldn’t and I can’t stop thinking about you.

You turned back toward the plant, your fingers lightly tracing one of the curled leaves. “It’s kind of funny,” you murmured, half to yourself. “Plants grow towards the things they need. Sunlight, water… warmth.”

Mark swallowed. He wasn’t sure why, but something about the way you said it made his skin feel hot. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “They don’t second guess it. They don’t hold themselves back.”

He wasn’t sure if you meant anything by it, but it struck something deep in his chest anyway. 

Because he had spent years holding himself back.

And now, with you standing this close, your voice soft, your eyes flickering to his he wondered if maybe he should stop doing that.

His hand moved slightly, barely thinking, like an instinct. Like those plants reaching for sunlight. And for the briefest moment, your fingers brushed against his.

It would be so easy to close the space between you.

So easy to reach forward, to tip your chin up slightly, to finally, finally—

The greenhouse door banged open.

Mark jolted back so fast he almost knocked over the planter.

Professor Sprout bustled in, looking completely oblivious to the moment she had just shattered. “Oh! What are you two doing here? Curfew is soon, I need to lock up for the night.”

You cleared your throat, stepping back as well, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Sorry, Professor. We were just finishing up.”

Mark forced himself to breathe, still feeling the ghost of your fingers against his.

Still thinking about how close he had been… and how badly he already wanted to try again.

The rest of your fifth year went by in a blur. Even though you and Mark were on much better terms now, there was little time to think about it between the overwhelming pile of O.W.L prep and the ridiculous amount of homework assigned for every subject.

You managed to pass every exam, most of them with an Outstanding. Mark, on the other hand, had spent so much time this year distracted by you that he fell behind on his classes. 

So as punishment, he forced himself to stay away—at least until he could guarantee he wouldn’t completely fail.

He still barely scraped by. Defense Against the Dark Arts was the only subject he earned an Outstanding in, but his Potions grade wasn’t high enough to qualify for the advanced level. Not that he wanted to take the class again, but it meant one less excuse to see you during the day.

When sixth year came around, he found himself sticking around you more, even if your friends didn’t particularly like him. So more often than not, he waited until you were alone.

Like now.

“Hello,” Mark said, spotting you sitting on the grass with a book open in your lap. The Whomping Willow loomed behind you, its massive branches swaying with an eerie creak. He eyed it warily.

“You’re awfully close to that thing.”

You barely glanced up. “It’s not so bad once it gets used to you.”

Mark scoffed, crossing his arms. “I don’t think that is capable of getting used to anything.”

You hummed, flipping a page. The late afternoon sun filtered through the leaves, making you look almost ethereal.

Mark swallowed.

He’d spent so much time not noticing these things, forcing himself to ignore the way your presence always made his stomach twist. But now, it was getting harder to push those thoughts away.

Without thinking, he sat beside you, close enough to feel the faint brush of your robes against his. “You know,” he said after a moment, voice quieter than before, “you are allowed to relax now. OWLs are over.”

You huffed a soft laugh, still looking at your book. “I don't think I know how.”

Mark tilted his head, watching you. “Maybe I could teach you.”

You finally turned to face him fully, the corner of your mouth twitching. “And you’re the expert on relaxing?”

Mark grinned, a little lopsided. “Nope. But I’m an expert at not studying. That’s basically the same thing.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling now, and something in his chest tightened at the sight.

A light breeze rustled through the trees, sending a few leaves drifting between you. One of them settled in your hair.

Mark hesitated.

Then, before he could talk himself out of it, he reached up. “Hold still,” he murmured.

Your brows furrowed. “What—”

His fingers brushed against your hair, plucking the leaf free. But his hand lingered grazing your temple.

You went still. Mark swallowed, his pulse hammering. He thought about pulling away. But then you looked at him and your eyes flickered down to his lips just for a second.

Suddenly, the space between you wasn’t so wide anymore.

His hand was still in your hair, and your breath was so, so close, and he could see the way your lips parted slightly almost as an invitation.

But then a sharp creak from behind you made you jolt apart. The Whomping Willow shifted, its branches twitching ominously.

Mark exhaled, pressing a hand to his face. What the hell was that? When he glanced at you, you looked just as dazed. Maybe even disappointed.

That sent a strange thrill through him.

But then you cleared your throat, shaking your head as if brushing the moment away. “We should probably move,” you said, standing and dusting yourself off. “Before the tree decides to take a swing at us.”

Mark huffed a laugh, still a little breathless. “Thought you said it was harmless.”

But as you started walking away, Mark stayed there for just a second longer, staring after you. 

He really needed to kiss you.

Badly.

Mark Lee was confusing you.

There had been two clear moments now where you’d almost kissed. Both times, he’d been the one to lean in first, and both times, something had interrupted before it could happen. Yet despite his boldness in those brief moments, you still couldn’t fully let yourself believe this attention was real.

Your heart wanted to, but your brain knew better.

Mark had spent years ignoring you, brushing you off like you didn’t exist, and then humiliated you too. Only to suddenly pull you into his orbit now. Yes, he’d apologized—sincerely, you’d give him that—but that didn’t mean you could just forget the way he hurt you before.

Meanwhile, Haechan seemed to be acting… strange lately.

He was always around, even more than usual. He’d even started asking you to help him with assignments, which was bizarre because Haechan had made a sport out of either sleeping through classes or deliberately distracting you in them. Yet now he’d started seeking you out in the library, sitting closer in the common room, and finding any excuse to keep you near.

You didn’t mind. If anything, it felt comfortable being around him. Haechan never made things complicated. 

But you did notice the way Mark would glare daggers at him from across the Great Hall. Or the way his jaw clenched whenever he caught Haechan whispering something in your ear that made you laugh.

And then there was the incident.

It happened in Charms class. Professor Flitwick had started teaching everyone Expulso, a more advanced charm that forcefully propelled objects away from you. It was precise magic that required perfect wand movement and a focused mind.

And well... Mark had neither.

You’d been paired with Haechan for the practical exercise and he, of course, turned the whole thing into a joke, purposefully missing his targets just to make you laugh. Then he decided to experiment, turning his wand on the scarf Mark had left on his desk. With a flick of his wrist, Haechan sent it flying toward himself.

“It’s a bit cold in here, isn’t it?” he grinned, draping it around his neck.

“Dude, give it back,” Mark said, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

Haechan shot him a smug look. “Relax. I don’t fancy these colors either.”

Mark gripped his wand so hard his knuckles turned white. He really tried to keep his composure, but watching you laugh with Haechan as he mocked the Gryffindor colors did something dangerous to his self-control. His mind blurred with pure instinct. Before he could stop himself, he flicked his wand and muttered, “Expulso.”

He’d only meant to send the scarf flying back to him.

Instead, Haechan was thrown clear across the room, crashing into a stack of desks and sending books and ink bottles scattering everywhere. Gasps echoed around the classroom. Mark’s stomach dropped.

“Mr. Lee!” Professor Flitwick exclaimed, horrified. “Detention! Immediately!”

And that’s how Mark ended up cleaning every single portrait frame in the castle as punishment.

Now he was on his fourth hour of wiping down dusty frames, trying to ignore Sir Cadogan’s taunting comments.

“Are you truly the best Seeker this school has to offer? Ha! Pathetic, if you ask me! No spine! No dignity!” the painted knight cackled, waving his sword wildly.

Mark gritted his teeth, his grip on the cloth tightening. “I swear, if you don’t shut up—”

“Oh? Going to hex me too, are you?” Sir Cadogan jeered. “Do it, coward! Strike me down if you dare!”

Mark seriously considered shaking the frame just to feel some satisfaction when he heard footsteps behind him.

“You haven’t learned your lesson about hexing people yet?”

Mark froze.

He turned around and there you were, still in your uniform, badge pinned neatly to your robes as a reminder that you were out on prefect patrol. His heart did a stupid little flip at the sight of you.

“Apparently not,” Mark said, trying to force a laugh.

“I think we need to do something about your self-control, Mr. Lee.”

The way you said his name, playful but with a trace of authority, sent a rush of excitement through his veins.

“I admit,” Mark started, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’ve been a bit hot-headed lately.”

You raised a brow. “Lately?”

Mark groaned. “Okay, fine. Always. But—” he hesitated, his mouth clamping shut before he said something stupid like I just get like that when I see you with him.

You were still watching him, expectant. “But?”

“…Nothing.” He turned back toward the frame, vigorously wiping it down as if it would erase his own embarrassment.

You stepped closer.

“Mark.”

He swallowed thickly, his hand pausing. “…Yeah?”

“Why did you do it?”

He tried to play dumb. “What do you mean?”

You huffed. “You’ve never lost control of your magic like that with him. Not even during Quidditch. You didn’t just hex Haechan… you blasted him.”

Mark’s jaw tightened. “Maybe he deserved it.”

“For what?”

Mark clenched his teeth. For touching you. For putting his arm around you like you belonged to him. For making you laugh like that. For being close to you in a way he wasn’t allowed to be.

“…For being an asshole,” Mark muttered pathetically.

You scoffed. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

Touché.

“Mark,” your voice softened. “Look at me.”

He did. And God, he shouldn’t have.

You were so close. Your scent, your warmth, it was dizzying. Mark could feel his pulse roaring in his ears, his breath shortening. His hand hung limply by his side, still clutching the rag tightly.

There was ink on your cheek.

Without thinking, he reached up, his thumb grazing softly against your skin. “You, uh…” His voice cracked. He swallowed hard. “You’ve got ink. Right here.”

You gasped.

And Mark realized he was completely, utterly doomed. His thumb caressed your cheek, and then his hand drifted lower, trailing down your jaw before he realized what he was doing.

His entire body was screaming kiss her.

You didn’t move away and for one unbearable moment, Mark swore you were leaning in too—

“Oi!” Sir Cadogan suddenly barked from his frame. “You there! I see you trying to woo a lady with improper decorum! Unhand her at once!”

You flinched back like you’d been scalded. Mark cursed under his breath, his entire body recoiling from yours.

“I—uh... should finish patrol,” you stammered, practically fleeing.

“Yeah. Right. Patrol.” His voice cracked. 

And as you disappeared down the corridor, Mark let his head fall against the wall with a groan.

That was three times.

Three times he’d almost kissed you. Three times something—or someone—had interrupted. And three times he’d walked away regretting it.

He didn’t know how much longer he could hold himself back.

Halloween arrived in a blur of decorations and excitement. The castle was buzzing with energy, students gorging themselves on sweets from Honeydukes and filling the Great Hall with loud chatter and laughter. 

Mark wasn’t particularly fond of sweets, but he still tagged along with Jaemin and Chenle to Hogsmeade that morning. It was a decent distraction.

When he finally returned to the dormitory that evening, exhausted and chilled from the walk, he found a small pile of sweets on his bed. Mark frowned. Weird. He didn’t remember leaving any there. But then his eyes landed on a heart-shaped box of chocolates.

His heart stopped.

A slow, stupid smile spread across his face as he reached for the box, his mind flashing back to years ago—to the day you’d given him a similar box of chocolates in second year. Back then, he’d been a coward. He’d tossed them out in front of you when his friends told him to, too embarrassed to admit that the sight of you blushing as you handed them to him had made his heart race. He could still remember the hurt on your face when he did it.

Mark wasn’t about to make that mistake again.

He opened the box without hesitation, popping one of the chocolates into his mouth. It melted on his tongue, rich and sweet, but almost immediately he felt… odd. Like his blood was moving too fast in his veins.

He blinked.

His pulse thundered in his ears, and an uncomfortable tightness built low in his stomach. His throat was dry. His skin felt hot. His head felt like it was being stuffed with cotton.

“What the hell…” Mark muttered, stumbling back slightly as a wave of dizziness hit him.

The room swayed around him, his thoughts clouding over like a dense fog. But the one thing that stayed sharp and clear in his mind was you. Your face. Your voice. The lingering warmth of your skin from when he’d touched your cheek before. His body burned with the desperate, uncontrollable urge to find you.

Mark didn’t remember walking out of the dorm. His body moved on autopilot, driven by a force he didn’t understand, only that he needed to see you.

You hated Halloween patrols.

They were miserable every year, especially when you knew the castle was still alive with music and celebration, and you were stuck walking through empty corridors. It didn’t help that Halloween was also prime time for students sneaking out of their common rooms to pull pranks or engage in other debauchery.

So when you rounded a corner and spotted two people heavily making out against the wall, you didn’t think much of it. You just sighed and braced yourself to break them apart.

“Alright, enough,” you said, walking toward them. “Back to your dorms or I’m docking points—”

You froze.

The boy pinning the girl against the wall, his hands gripping her waist like he couldn’t get enough of her... was Mark.

Your heart plummeted so fast it made you feel physically ill.

“Mark?” your voice cracked.

Slowly, like something out of a nightmare, Mark’s head turned toward you. His pupils were blown wide, his hair mussed from the fervent kiss. There was a wild, unhinged look in his eyes that you didn’t recognize like he wasn’t entirely there.

But the girl…

You felt like the air had been knocked out of you when you recognized her.

Minjeong.

Your best friend.

Your mind couldn’t catch up. No. This didn’t make sense. Mark had almost kissed you. Three times. You’d spent weeks pouring your heart out to Minjeong, admitting—-however humiliating—that you thought Mark was starting to like you back. And she… she knew.

She knew exactly how you felt about him.

Your gaze darted between them, desperately searching for some sort of explanation, some indication that this wasn’t what it looked like. But Mark was still staring at you in a daze, and Minjeong was… smiling.

You felt something splinter deep inside you.

“You—” your voice died in your throat.

Minjeong had the audacity to giggle. She pulled away from Mark’s mouth, though his hands were still clinging to her hips. “Oh…hey, Y/N,” she said breathlessly, a sheen of gloss smeared across her lips.

You looked at Mark, desperate for him to say something. But his gaze was fixed solely on Minjeong, his chest heaving, his lips still parted like he wanted more.

“Mark,” you choked out again.

His head snapped toward you. For a split second, his face twisted into something confused, like he didn’t understand why you were there. His eyes darted across your face, and you swore there was a flicker of recognition, a brief moment of panic in his expression.

Then Minjeong giggled again and Mark’s gaze instantly darkened as it fell back on her.

“Aw, don’t be mad, Y/N,” she pouted. “Please don’t tell Professor Snape, yeah?”

You felt like you were watching yourself from outside your body. “You two… can’t be here right now. You need… you need to go back to your common rooms.”

Your voice sounded like it belonged to someone else.

“Come on,” Minjeong teased, suddenly hooking her arm around yours. “Don’t be a buzzkill, Y/N. We’re just having some fun.”

You flinched. Don’t touch me.

Your Occlumency walls shot up instinctively, straining under the weight of your heartbreak but holding just enough to keep your expression neutral. You swallowed down the burning in your throat and repeated, “You need to go.”

Mark still wasn’t speaking. His pupils were so dilated it was unnatural, his chest still rising and falling rapidly like he couldn’t catch his breath. His swollen lips parted like he was about to say something.

But Minjeong turned, smiled sweetly at him, and said, “Mark, come on. Let’s not get Y/N in trouble.”

And Mark moved like a moth to a flame. Without hesitation, he grabbed her waist and yanked her into another bruising kiss. You recoiled like you’d been burned, forcing your eyes away before the image could be seared into your memory forever.

The sound of Minjeong’s delighted giggles made you want to scream.

Finally, she pulled back, wiping her mouth with a smug grin. “See you tomorrow, Y/N,” she sang, then turned to Mark and cooed, “Come on, lover boy. Let’s go.”

Mark didn’t even look at you. He let her drag him off down the corridor without so much as a glance in your direction.

The second they disappeared, your Occlumency walls shattered. You sucked in a shaky breath, clutching your chest like you could physically hold the pain in. A choked sob escaped your throat, but you quickly swallowed it back, forcing yourself not to cry here.

You’d be damned if you let them see you break.

What you didn't know is that Mark wouldn’t remember any of it.

Not the taste of Minjeong’s lips. Not the way his body burned with the inexplicable need to touch her. Not the sick, nauseating feeling in his gut when he caught your tearful gaze and felt like he was betraying something sacred.

All he would know was that when he woke up the next morning, his throat would be dry, his mind foggy…

…and the lingering taste of chocolate still heavy on his tongue.

A whole week passed since Halloween and Mark could not, for the life of him, figure out what he’d done to make you go back to acting like he didn’t exist.

You wouldn’t speak to him, wouldn’t spare him a glance, and on the rare occasion that your eyes did meet his, it was like he physically repulsed you. It was driving him insane.

Mark was starting to think he must’ve had one too many butterbeers during Halloween night and done something incredibly stupid. But he couldn’t know for sure because, again, you wouldn’t speak to him.

He also noticed you and Minjeong weren’t talking anymore. That part confused him almost as much as your behavior toward him. You were either with Karina or Haechan now, but most of the time, you were alone. And Mark hated it — hated seeing you without the warm spark you always carried when you were surrounded by friends.

But most of all, he hated that you were ignoring him. He needed you to talk to him. He needed you to tell him what he did wrong so he could fix it immediately.

Which is why he was now standing outside the Slytherin common room, anxiously hoping someone would be kind enough to let him in. Unsurprisingly, none of the Slytherins were willing to let a Gryffindor in, especially one who looked as nervous and fidgety as Mark did.

He was starting to lose hope when, finally, the perfect opportunity came in the form of Karina.

“Hey! Karina—” Mark called, jogging a few steps toward her. She slowed down as she spotted him, her face immediately tightening into an annoyed scowl.

“What do you want?” she said, her tone clipped and cold.

Mark blinked, taken aback. He knew Karina didn’t exactly love him, but she had never sounded this openly hostile toward him before.

“Uh… I was hoping I could talk to Y/N. I was wondering if you could either let me in or—”

“How dare you?” she snapped, suddenly pointing an accusing finger at him.

Mark froze. “I— sorry, what?”

“You’ve got some fucking nerve coming here with those stupid puppy dog eyes like you didn’t completely break her heart again. Haven’t you humiliated her enough? Or do you just get off on using her and throwing her away when you’re bored?” Karina’s voice trembled with anger.

“Wha... what are you talking about?” Mark asked, his voice rising in exasperation.

“Don’t play dumb, Lee. You know exactly what you did,” she spat.

“No, I don’t! I swear, I don’t know what you’re accusing me of right now! I already apologized for the Yule Ball… and the gifts… but what is this about me using her?” Mark’s heart was starting to race, his palms sweating as dread crawled up his spine.

Karina scoffed incredulously. “Seriously? You’re gonna keep playing the innocent act? After everything?”

“Karina, I’m serious. I don’t know what you mean! What did I do to her?”

“Oh my god.” She let out a bitter laugh, taking a step back like she couldn’t stand to be near him. “You really don’t remember?”

Mark’s throat tightened. “…Remember what?”

Karina stared at him for a long moment, her face twisted with disgust. “Halloween, you idiot.”

Mark blinked. “Halloween?”

“Yes, Halloween. When you were shoving your tongue down Minjeong’s throat like a desperate little dog.”

Mark’s stomach dropped. “What?”

Karina laughed humorlessly. “Oh, don’t pretend you don’t know. Y/N saw you, Mark. She caught you all over Minjeong that night. After you almost kissed her three times. After she told us how she thought you finally liked her back. After she spent literal years pining after you!”

“No…” Mark felt like he couldn’t breathe. “No, no, no. That… that’s not right. I wouldn’t do that. I don’t like Minjeong, I like—” his voice caught in his throat. “I like Y/N.”

Karina let out another bitter laugh. “Yeah? Well, you sure have a fucked up way of showing it.”

“No, I— I don’t remember that! I don’t remember kissing Minjeong! I swear to god, Karina, I would never do that to Y/N...” his voice cracked, panic making his words rush out in a desperate tumble. “I don’t remember! I don’t—”

“Save it, Mark.” Karina’s face hardened. “I’m not the one you should be begging for forgiveness to. But it doesn’t even matter, you've already ruined everything. She’s not gonna take you back, not after that. So do her a favor and stay the hell away from her.”

And with that, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the common room.

Mark trudged back to the Gryffindor common room looking deader than the ghosts that roamed the castle. His head was spinning, Karina’s words replaying in his mind like a haunting echo.

He couldn’t believe it. He kissed Minjeong. How the hell could he not remember something like that? Was he really that drunk that night? But it didn’t make any sense. He’d never gotten so drunk on butterbeer that he completely blacked out before.

It was eating him alive. The image of you looking at him with absolute disgust now made so much painful sense. And if you saw it happen, no wonder you hated him.

By the time he stepped into the boys’ dormitory, Mark looked like someone who’d just been handed a lifetime sentence in Azkaban.

Jaemin, who was drying his hair with a towel, was the first to spot him. “And what the hell happened to you?” he laughed, eyeing Mark’s pale, horrified expression. “You look like you just sat through one of Snape’s scoldings.”

Mark groaned and dropped face-first onto his bed. “Kill me.”

Jaemin raised a brow. “That bad, huh?”

“I screwed up this time, dude. Like… really screwed up.”

“What, did you jinx another student by accident?”

“No.” Mark’s voice was muffled against his pillow. “…I kissed Minjeong.”

“What?!” Jaemin and Chenle —who had just pulled open the curtains of his four-poster bed— exclaimed at the same time.

Mark turned his head just enough to look at them. “I don’t even remember it happening, but apparently, I kissed her during Halloween… and Y/N saw the whole thing. And now she hates me.”

“Dude,” Chenle gawked, disbelief clouding his face. “How the hell do you kiss someone and not remember it?”

“Yeah, that’s insane–” Jaemin started, but then his voice abruptly cut off, his eyes widening like something just clicked in his brain. “…Wait. Halloween?”

Mark lifted his head, brow furrowing. “Yeah?”

Jaemin suddenly shot to his feet and walked over to Mark. “Did you eat any chocolates?”

Mark blinked. “What…?”

“Did you get any chocolates that night?”

“Uh… yeah? Why?”

Jaemin’s face paled. “Oh my god. Dude. Those were doused with Amortentia.”

Mark felt his entire body go cold. “…What?”

“Holy shit,” Jaemin ran a hand through his hair, looking genuinely horrified. “You seriously didn’t know?”

Mark sat up so fast his head spun. “What do you mean I didn’t know?! What the hell are you talking about?”

“The chocolates, Mark! Every year during Halloween, girls sneak Amortentia into the chocolates hoping that the guy they like eats them and falls in love with them for a few hours. It’s a whole thing. Why do you think I told you to throw away the ones Y/N gave you years ago?”

Mark’s brain short-circuited. “Wait… what?”

“Dude!” Jaemin looked at him like he was dense. “I told you not to trust those chocolates around Halloween! Renjun’s dad works in Diagon Alley, and he says love potions are always sold out around this time of year because of Hogwarts students.”

“Especially you, dude,” Chenle added “You’re Gryffindor’s Seeker. You’re literally the main target. How did you not know this by now?”

Mark’s heart was pounding so hard he thought he might pass out. “I...I didn’t. I thought—I thought the chocolates were from Y/N…” his throat tightened. “But she’d never do that to me…”

Jaemin and Chenle exchanged a look before Jaemin cautiously asked, “…Did they have a card on them?”

Mark blinked, trying to remember. “…No?”

“Exactly!” Jaemin threw his hands up. “Y/N always put a card on her gifts to you, dumbass. She’s never not done that.”

“Oh my god,” Mark’s voice cracked, his hands clutching his hair. “I’m such an idiot! I thought they were from her so I just... I ate them. I didn’t even think—” his stomach twisted in horror. “I kissed Minjeong because of a love potion?”

“Looks like it,” Chenle said grimly.

Mark felt like he was going to throw up. “Oh my god. Y/N must think I’m the worst person alive. She probably thinks I led her on and then went and kissed her best friend—”

“Yeah, well, considering you practically ate her face off in front of her, I’d say that’s a fair assumption,” Chenle shrugged.

“I didn’t mean to! I don’t remember any of it happening!” Mark’s voice cracked as panic completely consumed him. “Oh my god, Y/N hates me. She thinks I—fuck! I have to go talk to her—”

“Woah, woah, no. Don’t do that,” Jaemin said quickly, grabbing his arm.

“What?! Why not?”

“Because if you go to her right now all panicked, she’s just gonna think you’re making excuses! You need proof that you were under a love potion or she’ll never believe you.”

Mark stared at him, wide-eyed. “How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

“Minjeong.”

Mark blinked. “…What?”

Jaemin gave him a look. “Minjeong. She’s obviously the one who gave you the chocolates. If you can get her to admit it, Y/N will have to believe you.”

Mark swallowed hard, his pulse hammering in his ears. “But what if she doesn’t admit it?”

Chenle scoffed. “Then we hex the truth out of her. Don’t worry, we got you.”

Mark could barely process anything. All he could think about was how you must’ve felt watching him kiss Minjeong. How heartbroken you must’ve been. How you probably cried yourself to sleep that night thinking he never cared about you.

You probably still thought that.

Mark’s hands clenched into fists. No. He wasn’t letting you believe that for another second.

An hour later he was pacing outside the Great Hall like a caged animal. Jaemin and Chenle stood nearby, whispering to each other. They were supposed to be helping him stay calm, but so far, their only strategy had been muttering plans that Mark couldn’t even focus on.

“I still think we should just give her Veritaserum and call it a day,” Chenle muttered.

“We’re not drugging anyone,” Jaemin shot back. “We’ll talk to her first.”

“You think she’s just gonna just admit she poisoned him with Amortentia?”

“She doesn’t have to,” Jaemin said with a smug grin. “We just need to pressure her enough that the truth slips out”

Before Mark could ask further, Minjeong appeared at the top of the staircase, chatting with a group of Slytherins.

“There she is,” Jaemin muttered, already moving forward. Mark and Chenle followed.

“Minjeong!” Jaemin called out.

She paused, turning around. When she saw them approaching, her smile faltered.

“Oh,” she said, plastering on a forced grin. “Hey... what’s up?”

“We need to talk,” Mark said, his voice tight.

Minjeong blinked. “Talk?” Her gaze flicked between the three of them. “About what?”

“About Halloween,” Jaemin said pointedly.

Mark watched Minjeong’s face carefully— the way her eyes widened just enough to betray her surprise before she forced her expression back to something neutral.

“Halloween?” she repeated with a weak laugh. “Why would we need to talk about that?”

Mark stepped forward. “Don’t act stupid,” he said quietly.

Minjeong’s smile faltered. “I... don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, really?” Chenle crossed his arms. “Then how come Mark doesn’t remember kissing you or anything about that night at all?”

Minjeong scoffed. “What are you insinuating?”

“You laced the chocolates with Amortentia,” Mark cut in, his voice like ice.

Minjeong’s eyes widened. “What?!” she sputtered, her voice rising a little too high. “That’s insane! Why would I do that?”

“You were waiting outside the Gryffindor common room that night,” Jaemin said coldly. “You knew exactly that Mark would think they were from Y/N and you were waiting to see if it worked.”

“That’s not true!” Minjeong snapped. “I didn’t—”

“Everybody else was at the celebration except you,” Chenle said. “You knew he would go to the common room after Hogsmeade, and you sneaked in the chocolates right before we arrived.”

“T-that’s ridiculous!” Minjeong stammered. “I was just leaving the Great Hall when I saw Mark walking around and he kissed me out of nowhere!”

“Bullshit,” Jaemin shot back. “You knew he was drugged and wouldn’t differentiate from the person he really wanted and anyone else.”

“Merlin, you guys are being crazy. Why would I even do that?”

“Because you like him,” Jaemin answered before Mark could. His voice was dripping with amusement, but his eyes were cold. “And you knew you didn’t stand a chance with Y/N around, so you figured a love potion would tip the odds in your favor, right?”

Minjeong scoffed. “As if I would ever--”

“Then swear on your magic,” Chenle challenged, his smile razor-sharp. “Swear on your magic that you didn’t put Amortentia in those chocolates.”

Silence.

Minjeong’s mouth opened then closed. Her eyes darted to Mark, panic slowly blooming in her face. “I—I don’t have to do anything—”

“Swear on your magic, Minjeong.” Mark demanded.

She didn’t.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” Jaemin muttered.

Minjeong’s face flooded with color. “You guys are insane! I didn’t do anything! Mark probably wanted to kiss me—”

“Oh, spare me” Chenle snapped, his laugh sharp and incredulous. “You think if he actually wanted to do it, he’d just block out the entire night like it never happened?”

Minjeong’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. “H-he was probably just—just embarrassed or something.”

“Embarrassed?” Mark’s voice finally cracked, and whatever grip he had on his composure snapped like a twig. “Embarrassed about what, Minjeong? You’re the one desperate enough to force yourself onto me when I was incapacitated ” His voice was raw, his chest rising and falling with the force of his anger. “I don’t even like you!”

The words hit Minjeong like a slap to the face. Her entire body visibly recoiled, her mouth parting slightly.

But Mark wasn’t done.

“I like Y/N. I’ve always liked Y/N. And you…” his voice cracked as the words ripped out of him, “you made me kiss you in front of her. Do you have any idea how fucking awful that must’ve been for her?”

Minjeong’s throat bobbed, her face pale. “I—I didn’t mean for her to see.”

“Yes, you did!” Mark shot back, his voice raw and trembling. “Don’t even try to pull that bullshit right now. You knew she was patrolling. You absolutely knew what you were doing. You wanted me to want you, even if it wasn’t real. Even if you had to—” his voice broke slightly, rage burning his throat, “—had to drug me to get it.”

Minjeong flinched, her eyes darting between them. “I didn’t think it would—”

“Exactly!” Mark let out a humorless, bitter laugh. “You didn’t think. You didn’t think about me, you didn’t think about Y/N… You didn’t think about anyone but yourself! All you cared about was getting me no matter what it cost, and you didn’t care how it would make her feel. You—” his voice cracked and he swallowed hard, “—you humiliated her. And she probably thinks I’m the world’s biggest asshole who just played her.” 

“I-I swear, I didn’t think it would get this far”

Chenle scoffed. “You literally slipped him a love potion. What the hell did you think was gonna happen?”

Minjeong shot him a glare, but her voice cracked when she tried to defend herself. “I just— I thought maybe if he… if given the chance…. he’d realize he liked me, okay?”

“Are you serious?!” Mark practically exploded. His voice booming with the sheer force of his emotions. “You didn’t think about how messed up it is to force someone into something like that?”

Minjeong was shaking now. “I didn’t mean for it to get this bad…”

“But it did,” Mark’s voice broke, his throat tight. “And now I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive me.”

Silence slammed down on them like a sledgehammer. Minjeong’s face crumpled, but Mark didn’t care. His entire body was shaking with rage, with guilt, with absolute devastation.

And that’s when Mark heard a sharp, shaky intake of breath behind him.

Slowly, he turned around  and his heart dropped.

You stood a few feet away, eyes wide. But it wasn’t heartbreak painted across your face. It was pure, unbridled rage.

“You—” your voice shook with fury as you looked at Minjeong. “You drugged him?”

Minjeong froze like a deer caught in headlights. “I—”

“You gave him Amortentia,” you seethed. “You drugged him and then… and then you let him kiss you and you didn’t even stop him?”

“It wasn’t… I didn’t—” Minjeong stammered, panicking now.

“What the fuck is your problem!” you cut her off. “Do you have any idea how messed up that is? You violated him!”

Mark’s breath caught in his throat at the way your voice cracked with fury.

“What?” Minjeong scoffed, suddenly back on the defensive. “It’s not like he didn’t enjoy it in the end—”

“Oh my god,” you recoiled like you were about to be sick. “Do you even hear yourself? Do you think it’s okay to force someone to kiss you under a love potion and then act like it was consensual?”

“I didn’t force him to eat them—”

“You set them up for him like a trap” you shrieked. “You drugged him! You took away his ability to choose! How can you even live with yourself?”

Minjeong looked around like she was hoping someone would swoop in and save her, but no one did. Even the Slytherins she’d been chatting with earlier were watching in stunned silence.

“You… who consoled me all the times I went to bed crying over him!” you spat, your voice raw with emotion. 

“I… I’m sorry…”

“Oh, shut up,” you snapped. “You knew exactly what you were doing, an apology won’t do it now”

Minjeong opened her mouth to argue, but nothing came out.

“Let me make one thing very clear,” you said through gritted teeth. “You don’t look at him. You don’t speak to him. You don’t breathe in his direction. If I catch you so much as standing near him, I’ll make sure every professor in this castle knows exactly what you did.”

Minjeong didn’t need to be told twice, she practically bolted in the opposite direction, not sparing any of you a glance.

Silence hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

“Y/N…” Mark said weakly, his voice cracking. “I’m so—”

“Don’t,” you choked out, turning back to him. “Please don’t apologize. Just—” your voice broke again, and then suddenly, you were throwing yourself into his arms. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry she did that to you.”

Mark held you even tighter. “It’s not your fault. God, Y/N, I missed you so much.”

“Me too,” you whispered. And you meant it.

This was the first time you hugged and Mark realized you fit perfectly in his arms, like you were meant to be there all along. You smelled incredible too. It was that soft, earthy smell of fresh rain on soil and blooming jasmine, the kind of scent that lingered in greenhouses after a long day of tending to plants. It hit him all at once. Of course. That was exactly what the Amortentia had smelled like to him.

His stomach tightened at the realization. The first time he bit into those chocolates, the first person that had flashed through his mind was you.

God, he was such an idiot.

When you finally pulled away, Mark’s entire body screamed at him to pull you back in. To kiss you. To fix everything. His gaze fell to your lips, and he almost gave in but then he remembered Jaemin and Chenle were still very much standing there, watching the two of you with annoyingly amused smiles.

Mark cleared his throat, stepping back slightly. “Uh… thanks, guys. You know, for… everything.”

“Of course, man,” Jaemin grinned. “We couldn’t just let that snake get away with it.”

“I still can’t believe she’d go that far,” you murmured, concern furrowing your brow. “I didn’t even know she liked you like that… or that she was capable of something so—” you swallowed hard, struggling to find the word. “…horrible.” You glanced up at Mark, your eyes still heavy with disbelief.

Mark’s heart ached at the guilt in your voice.

“You couldn’t have known,” he reassured softly. “She fooled everyone with that sweet girl act.”

“Not everyone,” Jaemin muttered under his breath, arms crossed.

“Oh, shut up, just the other day you were talking about how she’s the hottest slyther—” Chenle started, only to get a sharp elbow in the ribs.

“Anyways!” Jaemin cut in quickly, forcing a grin. “We’ll, uh… leave you guys to it. And please, for the love of Merlin, talk. I’m sick of all this miscommunication.”

“Seriously,” Chenle added, smirking. “If I have to live another day of you two silently pining for each other I will offer myself to the werewolves.”

Mark felt his face heat as you laughed softly, and a moment later, Jaemin and Chenle disappeared down the corridor.

You both stood there, your gazes flicking everywhere except each other. The weight of everything that had just happened still hung heavily in the air.

Mark swallowed hard. “So… uh…”

“Come on,” you suddenly said, grabbing his hand before he could finish his sentence.

“Where are we—”

“Just trust me,” you murmured.

Mark let you pull him along, his fingers curling instinctively around yours. You led him up staircase after staircase until you reached the Astronomy Tower and when you finally stepped out onto the platform, Mark couldn't believe his eyes

“Whoa…”

The view was breathtaking. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting hues of orange, pink, and deep indigo across the sky. From this high up, the Hogwarts grounds looked almost dreamlike. The Black Lake glistened like glass, and the Forbidden Forest stretched endlessly beyond it.

“I’ve never been up here during sunset,” Mark admitted, his voice slightly awed. “It’s… beautiful.”

You smiled softly, leaning against the railing. “I thought you’d like it.”

Mark turned to you. “Why?”

You hesitated, then shrugged. “…I’ve noticed you do that a lot.”

Mark blinked. “Do what?”

“Stare at the sky.” You smiled faintly, not looking at him. “Whenever you’re playing Quidditch. When it’s a slow game and you’re not chasing the Snitch, you just�� look up. Like you’re mesmerized by it.”

Mark’s breath caught.

He didn’t know what hit him harder. The fact that you noticed something so small about him or the fact that you cared enough to remember.

“I didn’t think anyone ever noticed that…” he said quietly.

You glanced at him then, your gaze soft and sincere. “I don’t think anyone else caught it… but I did.”

And that was it.

The final push Mark needed.

“Y/N,” his voice cracked, raw and desperate. “I swear to Merlin…I never wanted to kiss her. The only person I’ve ever thought about kissing is you. It’s always been you.”

Your breath caught, and Mark took a shaky step closer. “I… I didn’t know it at first. I mean, I did, but I didn’t understand it. Not until I ate those chocolates. Because the first thing I smelled was—” he swallowed thickly, his gaze locking on yours. “It was you. Rain, jasmine, and… and that earthy smell you get when you come back from Herbology. That’s what Amortentia smelled like to me..”

Tears stung your eyes, your heart hammering against your ribs. “Mark…”

“And when I heard what Minjeong did, I thought I was gonna lose my mind. The idea of you thinking I didn’t care about you… that I’d choose her over you… I hated it. I hated myself for hurting you, even if it wasn’t my fault.” His voice broke slightly. “I never wanted anyone else but you.”

The tears finally slipped down your cheeks. “You mean that?”

“With everything in me,” Mark choked.

Mark could feel his pulse hammering beneath his skin, his hand twitching at his side. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to kiss you.

“Can I—”

“Please,” you cut him off, already stepping toward him.

That was all it took.

Mark crashed his mouth onto yours, his hands instinctively finding your waist as you gripped the front of his sweater. The kiss was desperate, not rushed, but heavy with years of longing. He kissed you like he was afraid you’d slip away if he stopped, and you kissed him like you were trying to make up for all the time you’d lost.

And Merlin, you tasted like heaven.

By the time you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, foreheads resting against each other.

“…I’ve been wanting to do that for years, you know,” Mark admitted, laughing shakily.

You let out a soft laugh. ”Years?”

“Yeah,” he smiled sheepishly. “I think I fell for you the first time you hexed me on the train. I was just too immature to see it.”

Mark swallowed hard, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Can I… can I kiss you again?”

“Mark, you can kiss me whenever you want.” you said, caressing his cheek.

He loved the sound of that.

This time when he kissed you, it was slower. Like he was memorizing the taste of you, the feel of you, the fact that you were finally his.

read part 2 here

[taexoxosgf]

LEE MARK FIC REC LIST

s, smut | f, fluff | a, angst | suggestive is noted

give all these authors so much love please!!!! i had to include as much as possible!! supa long fic rec list ;) recommendation masterlist here

this is (not) easy *personal fav [ friends with benefits!mark x fem! reader ] s,f,a

sweet cream, cold brew [ nerd barista!mark x fem!reader ] s,f

raw. [ established relationship ] s

delphinium , part two [ virgin religious!mark x pagan reader ] s,f

the marriage and baby project [ fake dating au, roommate au ] s,f,a

sunday kind of love [ frat!mark x inexperienced/soft fem!reader ] s,f

flipside [ street racing au, strangers to lovers au ]

cherry flavored thoughts [ perv nerd!mark x popular fem!reader ] s

gorgeous [ college/football au ] s,f

follow through. [ bestfriends to lovers ft. haechan ] s

eyes on you. [ roommate's brother!mark x fem!reader ] s

watch me [ barista!mark x fem!reader, voyeurism ] s

pretty boy [ shy!mark x openminded/playful fem!reader ] s

surviving no nut november [ mark x fem! reader ft. haechan ] s

safety zone [ university au, best friends to lovers, roommates au ] f,a, suggestive

spider boy; 이민형 [ spiderman!mark x fem!reader, established relationship ] f, suggestive

closed doors. [brother's friend!mark x fem!reader, roommate au ] s

jealousy [ almost step-siblings au ] s,a

deal with it [ established relationship, argument au ] s

real talk [ line chef!mark x fuckgirl!reader ] s,f

on edge [ boyfriend's brother!mark x fem!reader, infedelity au ] s

play with me [ bestfriend!mark x fem! reader, car sex ] s,f

give me the greenlight [ street racing au, childhood friends to lovers ] s,f,a

nervously in love [ established relationship ] s,f

across the room *self promo hehe [ idol!mark x idol fem!reader ] s

roomie high [ stoner roommate!mark x fem!reader ] s

suck my kiss [mark x bandmate fem!reader ] s,f

may i be blunt? [stoner!mark x fem!reader ] s

the best man. [ stranger!mark x fem!reader, wedding au ] s

elevator pitch [ frat boy!mark x fem!reader ] f,a

craving you like the devil craves heaven [ priest!mark x succubus!reader ] s

kiss u right now [ best friend!mark x fem!reader ] s,f

this is new [ loss of virginity au ] s,f

rule breaker [ rockstar au, band au ] s

limit. [ gryffindor!mark x fem!reader ] s

mixtape moans. [ shy!mark x cheerleader!reader ] s

make me sin [ churchboy!mark x fem!reader, childhood friends au ] s,f,a

mark me in your heart [ drug dealer!mark x bartender!reader ] s,a

monetary value. [ rich kid!mark x rich kid!reader ] s,f,a

[agreeewrites]

A Madness Most Discreet p.3 | G.W.

feat George Weasley x Malfoy!reader

summary: after a brawl at the Three Broomsticks, you and George steal away for a night of romance without the specter of being caught looming over you. however, when you return to Hogwarts in the morning, you find that things have taken a turn for the worse.

cw: MDNI 18+, smut, protective!George, fighting, drinking, Draco is an asshole, blood prejudice and classism, internal angst, some fluff, Umbridge joins the chat

series navigation | part one | part two | part four | masterlist | divider by @roseraris

Reader's POV

The Three Broomsticks was slammed, damn near packed to rafters with students. Endless trays of butterbeer and whiskey flew over your head to sate the crowds debauched appetites, the glasses rattling with every thump of the shitty punk bands drummer.

You were crammed into a corner booth, sipping on a cocktail you had to teach the bartender how to make, with three of your friends, pretending to care about their relationship drama and the latest Slytherin gossip.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Talia asked, placing a hand over yours to get your attention.

“Not at the moment,” you shrugged, taking a sip of your drink. “I'm finding most Slytherin boys are rather…dull.”

They all nodded sympathetically.

“Well, what about non-Slytherin’s?” Devi asked, leaning in conspiratorially. Everyone was well aware of the fact that dating a non-Slytherin was off the table, as far as your family was concerned.

Little did they know you were sporting a bite mark from a certain red-headed Gryffindor just below the waistline of your skirt.

You rolled your eyes. “Not even worth talking about, let alone dating” you drawled. “Soph, how are things with that Ravenclaw?” You asked, turning the conversation away from you.

“Ugh, I ended that. They were way too chatty,” Sophie laughed, before rambling for about fifteen minutes about why she thought they were too chatty.

You finished your drink and flagged down the waitress for another. “Make it a double,” you said, sliding her an extra galleon. You'd need all the help you could get to survive this evening.

“Who do you think is the hottest Slytherin?” Devi asked.

“If one of you says my brother, I swear to Salazar—” You and Draco hadn't spoken in days, not since the Howler incident, and the last thing you wanted to do was listen to your friends drool over how hot he was.

“No, no!” Devi giggled. “What about Blaise, though?”

“Oh, or Theo!”

“Dull,” you reiterated, laughing along with them. “Theo’s about as toxic as he is tall, and Blaise is so far up his own ass, he can't see the sun.”

“But they are pretty,” Talia argued. “And that's all they really need to be, anyways.”

You chuckled. “Very true.”

“What about Gryffindor?” Sophia asked.

Devi chewed her lip, then—”Okay, okay, don't laugh, but I think the Weasley twins are gorgeous.”

You about choked on your fresh drink. “The Weasley's?” You asked, putting as much incredulity into your voice as you could.

“I know, I know. But George is like—” Devi fanned herself.

“They are unreasonably tall,” Sophia added. “And that will always make a guy hotter.”

“Oh my God, oh my God, look!” Talia squeaked, pointing at the door.

As if Devi manifested them, Fred and George sauntered into the Three Broomsticks, with Lee, Ron, Harry and Seamus on their heels. And of course, George looked damn near sinful in his light wash jeans and rugby jersey, his hair tousled in that devil-may-care, thoroughly kissed way he looked after you got your fangs into him.

Merlin, you saw him yesterday, you needed to get a grip.

His eyes snagged on yours across the room, a spark igniting that you could see even in the dim and dusty tavern. But then, Angelina Johnson swept in, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him over to the couches where her and her friends were.

You didn't have a problem with Angelina, you shared Magical Runes together, and she always struck you as plucky and clever, two traits you liked very much in a woman. But disquiet pooled in your stomach when George smiled down her, saying something you couldn't make out while he graciously greeted her friends.

It was ridiculous, though, because you and George weren't official. You couldn't be official—no, wait, you didn't want to be official. Right? You didn't want a relationship, you wanted to have fun. And you were.

Things with George had been lots of fun. And that was all it needed to be. Fun.

“Ugh, that Johnson girl is going to get him,” Devi scoffed, offended by the very insinuation, as if she’d have a chance either way.

“Angelina’s not so bad,” you said without thinking.

Your friends all stared at you.

“Rubbish Quidditch player though,” you added quickly, and they seemed to relax, sliding into gossip about the Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin this weekend.

Angelina was far from a rubbish Quidditch player, but you felt compelled to divert the situation, even if the comment sat like a rock in your stomach.

Your focus turned back to George while your friends dithered, and you noticed he was moving away from Angelina, rather than sitting down like you'd expected. He was shaking his head, mouth turned down apologetically, and your heart gave a little flip.

Was he rejecting her?

His dark eyes flicked to you again, skating over your body, the bare skin of your legs, and a now familiar warmth kicked up in the belly. Even without words or touches, George always managed to make you melt.

You knew he only had eyes for you, and it settled the passing quake in your soul.

He returned to his friends, having to shout over the crowd to order a beer. You smiled to yourself, unable to stop the bloom of affection his voice conjured.

Another hour passed, the two of you on separate sides of the stuffy tavern, periodically catching each other's eye through the haze of pipe smoke. You wanted desperately to ditch your friends and curl up in a booth with him, maybe rent one of the private lounges for a bit…

The tavern doors swung open, and your improved mood immediately soured once more.

Draco came traipsing in with Blaise, Theo, and Pansy, smug as a peacock. You sunk further down into your booth, trying to hide behind Sophia, but of course, Draco spotted you.

He made a beeline straight towards you, pushing through the crowd without care.

“We'll be over there, y/n,” Talia said, pointing at a table across the room while ushering Devi out of the booth, Sophia following them.

“No, wait—shit.” So much for friends.

“I thought you were at the castle?” Draco asked, bracing his hands on the table and the back of the booth. Caging you in.

“I am, obviously,” you replied, taking a sip of your drink. It tasted bitter, watery, but the booze still burned enough to work.

“Why are you avoiding me?” He pressed, sliding your drink away from you.

You scoffed. “Maybe because you're a controlling arse?” You yanked your drink back, liquor sloshing over the rim.

“I'm not—” he sighed. “Okay, I am. But I had nothing to do with that Howler.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don't you have bullshit to peddle elsewhere?”

He slid into the booth and you scooched away, refusing to look him in the eye, lest you cave to his guilty expression. “I'm not bullshitting you. I would never go to father behind your back, I swear.”

Draco had always been a shit liar, especially when it came to you. Sincerity shone through his pale eyes. You hated it, but only because it meant you had been wrong.

“You know he'd blame me for your discretion, so why would I rat?” Draco added, and you knew he was right. Draco always took the fall for your missteps, no matter how you pleaded with your father.

It was Draco's job to protect you, so any failing on your part was ultimately his.

“I know,” you murmured, placing a hand over his. An unspoken apology. Malfoy's didn't apologize.

“You know why I didn't get a Howler too?” He asked.

You shook your head.

He leaned forward, ensuring he wasn't overheard. “I went home with the Vanishing Cabinet, got the flogging in person the day before.”

You gasped, releasing his hand to cover your mouth. “Why didn't you say anything?”

“I thought he'd leave it at that. Didn't want you to worry. But then he sent the Howler…” he mumbled, stealing a swallow of your drink, then screwed up his face in disgust. “That's bloody awful.”

“So, who snitched?” You asked, glancing sidelong at his friends and a few Slytherin’s clustered by the bar they were too young to drink at.

Draco shrugged. “Snape, I reckon. Maybe another student.”

Snape. That's who George accused as well.

“Why would Snape do that?”

“Because he's a miserable fuck trying to get father to trust him,” Draco replied. “Same reason anyone does anything to us.” A bitterness edged his tone, and a frown tugged at the corners of your lips.

When did he start looking so…weary?

“Are you alright?” You asked.

He nodded. “Just couldn't stand having you hate me too.”

“Oi, fucking watch it, Weasley!” Theo barked, wrenching you and Draco from your conversation. “They don't teach respect in the gutter?”

Ron was standing a few feet from Draco's friends, cheeks red with fury. “Fucking lightweight, gets knocked by sodding spring breeze—”

“More like a fucking golem, bloody stupid oaf—”

Ron swung, fist coming hard and fast, but Theo managed to duck under it, driving his shoulder into Ron's guts.

Draco was up in a flash, catching Lee before he could intervene and shoving him back. “How about you mind your fucking business, Jordan? Wouldn't want your jaw too mangled to announce my fucking victory this weekend—”

You jumped up, rushing to try and separate Theo and Ron, who were trading punches like playing cards, but someone caught you around the middle, hauling you back a split second before you got caught with a wayward swipe. So close you felt the air bending around Theo's fist caress your face.

“Enough!” George snapped, directly behind you, his brawny arm solid and comforting around your waist. He released you the next second, though, taking a half-step away. Fred was there the next second, prying Ron out of the Theo's grip while Harry got between Draco and Lee.

You grabbed Draco as soon as Lee had his hands off of him, wrapping your arm around his to keep him from lunging again. “Stop it, D,” you hissed in his ear. “The last thing we need is the Aurors telling father—”

Draco was huffing, anger rolling off him in pungent waves. “Wouldn't be a fucking problem if the boors would just stay in their place,” he spit, pointing a finger in Ron’s face, his Malfoy signet ring flashing in the candlelight.

You gasped. “Draco!—”

Ron lunged towards the two of you, fist cocked back to hit Draco, but George jumped in the middle, catching Ron's fist and shoving him back a step.

“I said enough,” he growled, throwing a glare back at Draco. You'd never seen George so serious, something militant and snarling possessing your sweet Georgie.

“What's the matter Weasley? Can't stand to see your little brother get his ass handed to him?” Theo taunted.

“Ron could snap your scrawny ass like a twig,” you shot back.

“Oi, fuck you. Birds stay out of it—”

George snatched Theo up by the collar, dragging him up onto his tiptoes and shaking him. “Not another word, Nott,” he warned.

Merlin, you knew George was protective, but this…he looked prepared to rip Theo’s throat out with his teeth.

“Okay, okay, let's just calm down. We're not fucking children,” you said, moving away from Draco to get between George and Theo. You placed a hand on George's chest, feeling his heart pounding beneath his ribs, and nudged him back.

Reluctantly, he released Theo, stepping back to stand beside his twin, hackles still raised, chest rising and falling quickly.

Theo opened his mouth to say something else, but your warning glare had him cracking his jaw shut.

“It's over. Draco, take your friends home,” you said, channeling every bit of your mother's authority.

Draco scowled. “You can't—”

“Go. Potter, take Ron back,” you ordered. “You bairns are to young to drink anyways.”

They all scoffed, grumbling about how you weren't the boss of them while still gathering their things. You risked a glance at George, and the proud gleam in his eye made your knees weaken.

“Go on, then. The princess has spoken,” Fred teased, waving them away, grinning when Draco flashed him a vicious glare.

You rolled your eyes and turned your back on them, bracing your elbows on the bar to hide your trembling. The lingering adrenaline from the fight and the thrill of George's protectiveness made you feel a little lightheaded.

“C’mon, let's get out of here,” Fred said, moving towards the door. Lee and George followed, and your heart sank a bit watching George walk away without a backwards glance.

Then—“Actually, I’m gonna hang back for another drink, but I'll meet up with you later?” You overheard George say, and it took everything in you to not perk up like a dog.

“Saw something you liked?” Fred asked, and you could practically hear the waggle in his eyebrows.

“Something like that,” George chuckled.

You risked a glance up in time to see Fred and Lee walk out of the pub, leaving George by the door, waving them off.

“What'll it be, love?” The bartender asked.

“Just a water and a room, please,” you asked, sliding some coins across the table.

George leaned against the other side of the bar, watching you over the rim of his beer. An impish smirk lifted the corner of his mouth.

“Sure, hun.” They took your coins and grabbed a key from under the bar, passing it to you before fetching you water.

You accepted your water with a smile and headed to the stairs, having to stop yourself from taking them two at a time out of excitement. Butterflies rioted in your stomach, your skin tingling in anticipation.

With shaking hands, you unlocked the door, draping your Slytherin scarf over the handle so he'd know which was yours.

Five minutes later, knuckles rapped softly on the door.

“Come in,” you called, turning back to the mirror while your removed your earrings.

A moment later, George appeared in the mirror behind you, his arms looping around your waist and hauling you back into his chest.

“Must you dress so bloody gorgeous all the time?” He asked, openly ogling you in the mirror, hands smoothing over your curves.

You smirked, setting your earring on the vanity. “Never know who I might need to impress—”

George spun you around, pining your hips to the counter as he leaned over you. Your lower belly liquified at the ferine look in his eye. It seemed his blood was still running hot after the fight.

“Find anyone?” He asked, carding his fingers through your hair to tilt your head back a little further, exposing the tender sweep of your neck.

Something reckless in you wanted to test the waters, draw out this newfound, bestial side of him. “There was this one Gryffindor, handsome, charming, dark curly hair—”

George’s fist tightened against your scalp, the prickle of pain making you gasp as he leaned in closer. “I'll call Lee back here then, see if he can wrangle you half as well as I do,” he purred, his hand on your waist sliding down between your legs, rucking up the little dress you wore. His fingers grazed the swell of your aching cunt, discovering the honey soaking through your underwear, and loosed a low chuckle. “Someone else get you this wet, love?” he cooed, kissing along your jaw while you melted like putty.

“Just a coincidence,” you whispered, breathless when his middle finger passed over your vexed clit, still a bit sore from the day prior.

He hummed, withdrawing his hand and resting it on your thigh, letting you feel the wetness clinging to his fingers. “Just a coincidence, huh?”

You whined, folding immediately at the loss of contact. “You'll think I'm insane,” you admitted, hiding your face in his shoulder.

“Will I, now? Why's that?” He tugged your head back up by the roots of your hair.

“I liked…seeing you…get protective…” you mumbled, averting your eyes.

He tilted his head a bit, looking infuriatingly chuffed with the revelation. “Oh, sweet girl. That fight turn you on?”

“Not the fight, just…you.”

“I see.” He nodded sagely. “Here I thought you'd think I was out of line.”

You shook your head, working your lower lip between your teeth. “What would you have done if Theo’s rogue punch connected?”

George's eyes darkened. “Something that would send me to Azkaban for life, probably,” he said, voice pitching lower, the roughness of it making you shiver. “I'm not usually quick to anger, but with you…” He sighed, resting his forehead against yours.

Your heart surged, pounding frantically in your chest. The world felt silty beneath you, shifting, spreading, on the precipice of being swallowed whole. On the verge of falling.

Careless, you plunged forward, crashing your lips into his. He collapsed into you, his tongue diving between your teeth to devour you. You could taste the beer on his lips, something hoppy and dark, intoxicating, and you pulled him closer, needing more, needing to breath him like air.

“Need you,” you panted, gulps of air sawing through your burning lungs.

He tossed you up onto the counter, belt clinking against the ceramic as he undid it. “M’sorry, baby. Can't wait,” he muttered into your hair, spreading your knees apart with his hips.

Panties tugged to the side, the cold bite of the tile against your fevered skin, the steely hardness of his cock breaching your heat, fullness, fuck, so full.

“George,” you keened, nails scrabbling for purchase on the vanity as he fucked up into you, splitting you down the middle. But the clenched fist of your cunt hampered his progress.

“S’fucking tight, rattlesnake. Seven hells,” he growled, spreading your thighs wider, pressing deeper.

“I can't—shit,” you whimpered, tears collecting on your lower lashes at the brutal stretch.

“You can, pretty. I know you can,” he soothed, palming the side of your face and kissing away an errant tear. “Just need to relax f’me.” His other hand left your thigh, dipping between your bodies. Middle finger brushed your clit, tracing gentle circles around it, and you felt your muscles start to unwind, the stitches of pain dissolving into pleasure.

“Fuck, George,” you moaned, his cock sliding a bit deeper as your walls loosened.

“There you go, thaaat's a good girl. Nice n’ easy,” he hummed, withdrawing his hips before sinking forward again, finding a steady, languid rhythm as he fucked you open. “You feel so good, baby. Perfect little pussy takin’ me so well,” he praised, lips feathering over your pulse.

Pleasure mounted, evident by the puddle collecting beneath you, slick soaking into his jeans. Your body was starting to ignite, a delicious, consuming warmth spreading under your skin that had you singing his praises. Enraptured.

Lips found yours again, parting, taking, the sloppiness of it dragging you closer and closer to oblivion. Quick fingers and deep, deliberate thrusts hitting every mark, every nerve. It was inevitable, hunting you, chasing you down like prey.

No one could fuck you like George could, and you told him so between broken cries.

“Yeah, baby? No one can fuck you like me—fuckin’ made for me,” he groaned, thrusts getting rougher, punishing as the coil in your belly tightened, baring down on him. “Go on, love. Show me how good I make you feel. Come for me—”

You shattered, a dying star, eclipsed entirely by bliss.

“Shit, gonna take me with you—fuck!” A snap of his hips, the slap barely audible over your mewling, and you snatched his soul, greedy cunt milking him for everything he had.

He braced his hands on the counter, trembling with effort of not crushing you while you twitched and spasmed, locked up so tight he could barely withdraw.

“Shh, love—did so good,” he murmured, kissing every bit of skin he could reach while your mind pieces itself back together, bits of soul adrift in a sea of dopamine. “M’sorry—I didn’t—did I hurt you?”

You shook your head as you came back into your body, feeling his cock slide out you with a surge of release. “Didn't hurt me,” you panted, catching his chin and drawing him into an airy kiss, too out of breath for a proper one, but feeling compelled to do it anyways.

“Good,” he exhaled with a relieved smile, pecking your lips again. “How long do we have the room for?” He straightened to grab his wand and clean you both up.

“Tomorrow morning,” you replied, folding your lips to suppress a smile.

His eyes widened, copper brows shooting up. “Sleepover?”

You nodded, chest swelling with giddy elation. “Sleepover.”

George's POV

George managed to coax you into a shower, insisting on washing your body himself with the cheap inn soap just to hear you purr in pleasure, relaxing completely into him. He didn’t know what it was about you, but he wanted to brush your hair, feed you grapes, fan you with one of those big leaves like Cleopatra.

He was down bad.

“I saw you talking with Draco earlier,” he said, massaging away the tension in your shoulders. “Are you guys okay now?” It was clear how much fighting with Draco weighed on you, and George cared more about your happiness than his own distaste for your younger sibling.

You shrugged. “He's says he didn't snitch—” a soft moan slipped past your lips when he dug into a particularly tight knot. “He actually mentioned Snape as a possibility, like you.”

George was glad you couldn't see the face he made. If Draco accused Snape, it was extremely likely that it was actually the Potions Professor.

How much attention has Snape actually been paying to you?

His hands stilled on your shoulders as anxiety slithered under his skin, coiling around his throat. Could Snape know?

You turned to face him, eyes round and tender. “You worry too much,” you cooed, wrapping your arms around his neck, dripping wet skin pressing against his. His anxiety unraveled, bones softening, and bent down towards you like the branches of a willow. Molded his lips to yours.

It wasn't hurried, stolen seconds like the majority of the kisses you shared. Rather, it was languid, loose and messy and indulgent. Lips gliding through warm water, tongues sweeping, tasting, savoring.

He was lightheaded with it, bracing one of his hands on the stone wall behind you, afraid he'd dissolve entirely and wash down the drain. Away from you.

Merlin, how could he ever be away from you?

Then, it dawned on his that this may be the only chance he'll have to do this with you-- spend a quiet night somewhere safe, where he could love you however he wanted without fear of being caught. He could shower with you, sleep in the same bed with you. Such simple mundanities that felt more precious than gold with you.

This thing with you was fleeting—a strike of lightning. A shooting star. And soon, it would have to end. He couldn't bring you home, couldn't get a flat with you—

The thought stole his breath, a pained sound escaping from his throat, and you broke the kiss, pulling back to look at him.

“George?” You caressed his cheek, pushing his soaked hair from his forehead. The sweetest thing. “Love, are you alright?”

He nodded, turning his head into your palm and brushing the delicate skin of your inner wrist, the heel of your palm, with his lips. He didn't trust himself to speak.

“Let's just focus on being here, yeah?” You murmured, able to discern where his mind had taken him. “Just us, just tonight.”

Tears burned behind his eyes, but he pushed through them in favor of kissing you again, crowding you back against the shower wall. Focused on the heat of your skin, the slide of your limbs around his, your tongue on his throat, and let worries of tomorrow wash away.

After a second, equally as intense round, he dried you both off and carried you to bed, your wobbly legs that of a newborn fawn. The bookshelves beside the bed caught his eye, and he wandered over after tucking you in and lighting some candles.

He slid something off the shelf, garnet leather, tattered at the corners, with silver embossing on the cover and spine: Romeo and Juliet.

Normally, he wouldn't reach for Shakespeare, but you made him want to weave sonnets, monologue verbosely on balconies edge—

“How's this?” He asked, turning to show you, and your kiss-bitten lips curled into a sleepy smile.

“Perfect,” you hummed.

He climbed back into the downy bed beside you, your naked body curling against his side, natural as the moonlight caresses the wall. The steady thrum of your heartbeat synchronized with his as you got comfortable, nuzzling into his shoulder.

The book opened with an antiquated crack, pages thin and yellowed with time. He leafed through it until he reached the Prologue, and started to read aloud.

“Two households, both alike in dignity,

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean,

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes,

A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life…”

Reader’s POV

When you and George return to the castle the following morning, you part as if complete strangers. Without a backwards glance, without the preamble of a goodbye. George turned towards the Great Hall, you, towards the library. But the loss was an anchor on your heart, raw and sulfuric as freshly carved grief.

Going back to acting like strangers, propping up the charade after the bliss of tearing it down, felt impossible. Insurmountable. Agonizing.

You'd never been more sure that George Weasley was yours and you were his. And what a cruel trick of fate that you could never be together, not without sacrificing everything else.

And even if you were willing to, you knew George wasn't. He would never give up his family, would never disappoint them in that way. And you could never ask him too, not matter how badly you wanted him.

But you couldn't let him go either, too selfish, too desperate, too possessive. A dog with a bone. How could you go back to that world of callousness, of treachery and darkness after being bathed in his light?

You made it nearly halfway to the library when a commotion rang out, students running down the hall back towards the courtyard at the center of the castle. Like the rush of a river, you were quickly caught up it in, bobbing along until you were spit out at the back of a massive crowd of students and faculty.

Draco's platinum hair caught your attention towards the front, and you forced your way towards him.

“What's going on?” You hissed, tugging at his robes.

He turned, a cruel retort on his tongue until he realized it was you. “Trelawney’s getting canned,” he snickered, ushering you in front of him, his body shielding your from the push of the crowd.

That explained the wailing.

“Why on earth would Dumbledore do that—” but then you noticed the pink-clad Umbridge standing beside the bawling Divination professor and all of her belongings. You had always disliked the puggish woman, with her upturned nose and pressed lips, expensive tweed dyed that horrible, intestinal pink.

In her hand, she held a dismissal order on the Ministry letterhead.

Something was deeply wrong.

You spotted George across the way, standing with his siblings, Harry and Hermione. He edged in front of Ginny, pulling her just slightly behind him as he watched Umbridge chastise poor Trelawney with narrowed eyes. He had Harry by the shoulder, preventing the impulsive boy from running out the professors defense.

He looked…afraid. Fred did too.

George's eyes met yours, softening a bit before they flicked up to Draco, and immediately turned glacial. Hostile. You glanced up and found Draco smiling, and your stomach turned.

McGonagall rushed out, gathering Trelawney in her arms and shushing her.

“Is there something you'd like to say, dear?” Umbridge asked.

“Oh, there are several things I'd like to say,” McGonagall bit.

Draco snickered, and you elbowed him.

Then, the doors burst open behind you, revealing Albus Dumbledore. He strode forward, anger practically radiating off of him.

“Professor McGonagall, might I ask you to escort Sybil back inside?”

The way Umbridge was looking at him, all arrogance and snobbery. Like she knew something he didn't…

Understanding settled heavy on your bones. This was no ordinary sacking—this was an act of war. The war George tried to explain. The war that your family tried to hide from you. The war that the Ministry was in denial of, that you were in denial of.

George had tried to warn you, but it was too late.

The war had officially come to Hogwarts, and you were standing on the wrong side of it.

Thank you for reading!

If you'd like to be included in the taglist, comment below!

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© agreeeeeeeeeee 2025. do not copy, translate or claim my writing as your own.

[giselleloversclub]

nct dream hogwarts au fic rec

LEE MARK

GRYFFINDOR MARK X RAVENCLAW READER @angelicwriting

personal fav

YOU HAD NO IDEA , DID YOU ? @sehunniepotwrites

word count : 971

PRECONSEPTIONS @kpophogwartsaus

gryffindor mark x slytherin reader

Mark Lee falls in love with reader who is from a prominent family because of unexpected encounters that are totally different with the reputation and how people describe the reader. However, as they get closer people try to convince Mark to be wary, to not fall in love, and their relationship would not be accepted by reader's parents. Turns out they're comeplety wrong and Mark gets to be introduced by the reader to their parents.

word count : 2.8k

QUIDDITCH STRESS @kpophogwartsaus

gryffindor mark x slytherin reader

rivals to lover

word count : 3.4k

GRYFFINDOR MARK X RAVENCLAW FEM READER @nsheetee

FISH @jishyucks

Slytherin Y/N saves Ravenclaw Mark from ‘trouble’

word count : 0.8k

QUIDDITCH AND CHOCOLATE @2-cute-4-school

‘He had nightmares of you slipping right past his fingers and him failing to catch you. He relives that moment.’

gryffindor mark x gn reader

rivals to lovers

word count : 4.4k

personal fav

AMORTENTIA AND QUIDDITCH @philosopher-of-fandoms

It’s December and everyone seems to be getting into the holiday cheer! However this season you’re grappling with the decision of whether to go home to your family for the holidays or stay at Hogwarts with your friends while also trying to manage to hide your obvious crush on Mark Lee.

fem reader x mark lee

word count : 6.35k

STUDY SESSIONS @blossom-hwa

mark x hufflepuff gn reader

OBLIVION @planetjisungie

gryffindor mark x gryffindor reader

just two gryffindors pining over eachother and being way too obvious

LIMITS @starryhyuck

with gryffindor on a continuous losing streak, you have no choice but to push your quidditch player boyfriend to his breaking point.

gryffindor mark x reader

smut

word count : 3.4k+

WHERE'S YOUR GOOD NATURED GRYFFINDOR-SLYTHERIN RIVALRY @taelme

enemies to lover

word count : 23k

LION BOY @jaeminzie

you would never ruin your slytherin image by exposing your crush on the gryffindor head boy. but for mark lee, you’d put it into consideration.

word count : 2k

——————————————————————————

HUANG RENJUN

LOVE LETTERS @jiamour

in which renjun has the phattest crush but he’s too shy to say anything despite being their tutor so his friend convinces him to write anonymous love letters to get his feelings out

alternatively: renjun’s a cutie and you hate arithmancy

ravenclaw renjun x hufflepuff reader

word count : 4.7k

IGNORANCE IS BLISS @jaeminzie

ravenclaw renjun x gryffindoe reader

staying true to the courageous gryffindor persona, you secretly admire renjun using unusual tactics, forgetting that the fellow ravenclaw is fairly quick witted.

word count : 2.3K

BREATHLESS KISSES @softrenjunnie

fullblood!renjun x muggleborn!reader

word count : 1k

from the 21 kisses serie

LUCKY CHARMS @planetjisungie

with the exams coming up, you need a little help with your charms. well you dont, you just needed an excuse to talk to your long time crush, huang renjun

ravenclaw renjun x hufflepuff reader

STUDY HALL @kpophogwartsaus

Renjun x Hufflepuff Reader

word count : 1.5k

FRIENDSHIP , LOVE , COURAGE @cosmiclatte28

ravenclaw prefect renjun x gryffindor reader

——————————————————————————

LEE JENO

HELPING HAND @jaeminzie

being a transfer student in hogwarts, you felt the need to prove yourself and live up to the rumors of you being the best seeker in your previous school. though, in hogwarts, you had the lee jeno to compete against with. thankfully, he didn’t see you as a rival.

word count : 1.9k

MY SUNSET IS YOURS @dreamsafterhours

in an alternate universe in which the triwizard tournament is held between the three wizarding schools of hogwarts, ilvermorny and mahoutokoro, the one who lived is in this fight alone

ASSINGNEMENTS AND CRUSHES @kpophogwartsaus

hufflepuff jeno x ravenclaw gn reader

word count : 4.2k

A CHANCE MEETING @smileyjaeminies

When your huge crush and famous hitter Lee Jeno walks inside your uncle’s store, will it become the chance you needed to get closer?

word count : 2.1K

MAYBE , JUST MAYBE @jiamour

jeno was perfect, maybe everyone was sick of his perfectness, maybe it wasn’t everyone, maybe it was just you. 

alternatively: you’re in love with jeno but it takes 2 rainstorms, months of longingly staring, a missing overweight cat, and a love potion to realize it

hufflepuff jeno x slytherin reader

word count: 4.2k

personal fav

WILDFLOWERS FOR YOU @jenospeach

y/n has feelings for lee jeno, the kind hufflepuff who captures everyone’ hearts with his eyes and his smile. little does she know, her feelings aren’t one-sided.

hufflepuff jeno x reader

word count : 2.5k

MISCONCEPTIONS @planetjisungie

gryffindor jeno x slytherin reader

LIFETIME OF APOLOGIES @jenonctcity

warnings : character death , torture , blood

word count : 2.8k

HOGSMEADE @kpophogwartsaus

word count : 3k

——————————————————————————

LEE HAECHAN

SCENT @renjunnnnn

the boy goes to hogwarts, yet this moment with you had to be the most magical thing he'd ever experienced.

I WILL NOT VANISH @slightlymore

demon / gryffindor haechan x slytherin fem reader

smut

word count : 19.1k

DESIRE PT1 @neochan

he wants you. you want jeno. desire is a jealous little thing, isn't it y/n?

slytherin haechan x hufflepuff reader

smut

word count : 12.1k

A RED VELVET CUPCAKE , A HALLOWEEN PARTY AND A PUNISHEMENT @locationeocity

A red velvet cupcake creates a promise between you and Haechan, and a Halloween party(and it’s consequences) brings you two closer than ever. Between scrubbing up dirty plates at the school kitchen and your study sessions at the library, you start to get fond of each other. 

pure blood slytherin haechan x muggleborn gryffindor reader

word count : 12k

personal fav

WE HAVE A PROBLEM @sehunniepotwrites

word count : 714

STARS AND COOKIES @cuteissei

fluff

personal fav

AMORTENTIA @jishyucks

Donghyuck, a bored Slytherin, decides to use Y/N as a test subject for a love potion. What happens when Donghyuck starts to actually fall in love with her while she’s under the potion’s spell?

slytherin haechan x gryffindor reader

word count : 2.7k

BETTER THAN WORDS @jaeminzie

finally taking his friends’ advice, the not-so-cunning donghyuck finds a way to show his profound feelings toward his respectfully patient herbology partner.

word count : 2.2k

PAPER HEARTS @mydominions

slytherin haechan × ravenclaw reader

word cout : 1.3k

"YOU LOOK BEAUTIFUL" KISSES @softrenjunnie

slytherin donghyuck, ravenclaw reader

word count : 0.7k

part of the 21 kisses serie

DETESTER @planetjisungie

enemies to lovers, you and donghyuck had always just hated eachother. you dont know when it started, or why it started but it was starting to get annoying.

slytherin haechan x gryffindor reader

GETTING THE DATE @kpophogwartsaus

word count : 1.9k

WHEN THE DAY MET THE NIGHT @blossom-hwa

fluff

POTION CLASS @kpophogwartsaus

donghyuck x ravenclawn gn reader

word count : 3.1k

GOOD GIRLS @starryhyuck

donghyuck thinks you’re the most perfect, little goody-two-shoes head girl who’s ever walked the halls of hogwarts. that is, until he finds out you’ve fucked na jaemin in the back of the library.

slytherin donghyuck x ravenclaw reader

smut

word count : 4k+

——————————————————————————

NA JAEMIN

DEDICATION @danishmiilk

na jaemin dedicated his quidditch win to you for no obvious reason. at least, not until he asks you “do you trust me?” and well, do you?

word count : 1.4k

bestfriends to lover au

OBLIVIOUS ,PT2 ,EPILOGUE @misfitneo

they’d tell you ‘all’s fair in love and war’, although erasing all the love for you from na jaemin’s mind seems too cruel to be fair.

slytherin jaemin x reader

word count :  7.7k 

personal favorite

TRANSFIGURATION NOT TRANSACTION @butterbeeryuta

NEWTs are on their way to mentally destroy 7th year students, and of course, everyone is panicking— except for Na Jaemin who is probably still drinking his coffee. With his relaxed state and unwillingness to study, McGonagall begs you to tutor Jaemin before it's too late, and boy, are you something.

smau

hufflepuff reader x gryffindor jaemin

UMBRIDGE'S DETENTION @najaeminbabyboyculture

slytherin jaemin x gn reader

personal fav

OF AMPHIBIANS AND NICKNAMES @hirokari

slytherin jaemin x hufflepuff reader

word count : 0.6k

CHILL KILL @starryhyuck

na jaemin has asked you out every year since you came to hogwarts. maybe this is the year you’ll say yes.

slytherin jaemin x hufflepuff reader

smut

word count : 10.3k+

WHAT DO YOU DESIRE @jaeminzie

a single tutoring session to help a failing na jaemin earned you a ticket to receive whatever you want. so what will it be?

word count : 2k

CUDDLE WITH ME @blizzardfluffykpop

Yule ball?

GOODBYE KISSES @softrenjunnie

word count : ~1k

part of the 21 kisses serie

HOT DOG @planetjisungie

jaemin practices a transfiguration spell on a pencil that goes slightly wrong. okay, maybe very wrong.

hufflepuff jaemin x ravenclaw reader

——————————————————————————

ZHONG CHENLE

AMORTENTIA @dreamyyang

The strange scent that Chenle encountered during his Potions class led him to you. Good thing it wards off Wrackspurts.

I STILL HATE YOU @kpophogwartsaus

slytherin chenle x ravenclaw gn reader

enemies to lovers

word count : 3.5k

WANDS AND POTIONS @itsthe-neo-zone

slytherin chenle x gryffindor reader

Years after the demise of he who must not be named, and the termination of the out-breaking war in Hogwarts had been resolved. the institution was reopened for the future and safety of wizards and witches across the world.

Although Voldemort is now no longer and everything has been commonly safe, the past decade had passed issues have not ceased to exist between families or districts of people and the wizardry world was eerily peaceful.

Though much after the Battle and the Second Wizarding War things haven't fully stopped, another legacy was to be fulfilled and tensions were rising. From discrimination in the ministry, hidden secrets and high stakes in the world of Witches and Warlocks times were at a new low and worst than ever.

Young Selene had received the enrollment letter in the living room of her ancient, musky cottage home off the coast, one humid night in autumn, that one envelope had altered her whole life completely.

Her life was going monotonously well, nothing exciting. That's until she meets the unconditional polar opposite, her 'supposedly' arch nemesis and the snake adorned in emerald robes. What will her life turn into now?

"WE CAN'T DO THIS" KISSES @softrenjunnie

slytherin chenle x gryffindor reader

wordcount: 1.6k

part of the 21 kisses serie

EUNOIA @planetjisungie

you aren’t particularly liked in slytherin by the purebloods for either being muggle born or due to your happy friendships with the people in the other houses and chenle tries to hate you like they do, he really does.

slytherin chenle x slytherin reader

MORNING LETTERS @jenonctcity

gryffindor chenle x hufflpuff reader

word count : 1.2k

——————————————————————————

PARK JISUNG

GRYFFINDOR JISUNG X RAVENCLAW READER @seungmvnnie

word count : 1.5k

FISRT KISSES @softrenjunnie

ravenclaw jisung x ravenclaw reader

word count : 1.4k 

part of the 21 kisses serie

PAIN BUT MAKE IT BEAUTIFUL @planetjisungie

hufflepuff quidditch player jisung x ravenclaw reader

personal fav

——————————————————————————

SERIES

NCT DREAM AND THE HOGWARTS SERIE @taeghi

Y/n, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await for your owl by no later than 31 July.

smut(mdni) angst and some fluff

HOGWARTS DREAMS AT NIGHT @imnotjaesblog

smut (mdni) angst fluff

A HOGWARTS COLLECTION @nczennie

Ravenclaw Renjun, Hufflepuff Jeno, Slytherin Haechan, Slytherin Jaemin

fluff angst smut (mdni)

——————————————————————————

[heesvnqie]

>>Gata Only- Lee Heeseung FF

pairing: fem!reader x heeseung

word count: 1.9k+

synopsis: You and Heeseung's patrolling session at Hogwarts dungeons turns into a makeout session.

genre: smut, hogwarts au

warnings: >> smut,cussing, biting/marking, fingering, begging, choking, slight hair pulling, size kink, dom!heeseung x sub!reader, unprotected sex (a big NO-NO), edging, slight overstimulation, creampie, manhandling. petnames

Song playing: Gata Only by FloyyMenor and Cris MJ

Notes: My two absolute favourite things together!

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

As you walked through the cold corridors of Hogwarts, a shiver ran down your spine. You were running late for patrolling.

One male and one female student were chosen from each house in their fifth year to act as prefects. They would continue to be prefects in their sixth and seventh years until they left school.

From Gryffindor, you were chosen as the female prefect. But compared to the male prefect, you were nothing.

The male prefect was none other than, THE Lee Heeseung. He was a ace, a perfectionist, most popular boy of Hogwarts. Starting from juniors to seniors, 99% of them knew him. He was a pureblood, a son from one of the well-known families of the wizarding world.

While on the other hand, you were not from a pure blood family. Though you had great academics and also were a perfectionist but not even close to Lee Heeseung's level.

This evening, just before you left for patrolling, you had been called out by Professor McGonagall. She complimented you on your being the prefect for the hundredth time since you had got the position and presented a long speech on how the position should not change your attitude and how you should not consider yourself above others.

So, now you found yourself walking towards the dungeons. Your area of patrolling was usually near the Great Hall. But Snape had asked you and Heeseung to patrol near the dungeons rather than the Great Hall.

You reached the dungeons as you fixed your skirt and made sure that the shirt was tucked in properly. You fixed the cloak as you held your chin high as you walked down the stairs into the dungeons.

It was dark as the dungeons glowed dark green. The Slytherins Common Room was located in the dungeons afterall.

As you walked a few steps into the dungeon, you felt a presence behind you as you sharply turned back.

There stood Lee Heeseung, face inches away from yours. His eyes glinted in the green glow as he smirked.

Your breath hitched as he walked a few steps closer, his body towering over yours.

You had a damn crush. A crush on the boy that stood now infront of you.

Who didn't have a crush on him afterall?

He was all that a girl would want in a man.

This is was surprisingly your third interaction with him. The first one happened during first year on the Hogwarts Express, when you both shared the same train cabin. The second was during the third year, when Snape had paired you two for making Amortentia.

He chuckled as he felt your breath hitch.

"Remember me?" He asked as it caused you to scoff. You pushed him off you as you walked ahead, shouting back,"Who doesn't. The question should be asked by me if you remember me?"

He laughed at your reply as he ran up to you, walking beside you, matching your speed.

"Cute." He muttered under his breath quietly.

"Well, why wouldn't I remember you? Kim Y/N." Hearing your name from him was like heaven. Your composure was threatening to crumble down.

You stayed quiet. You never expected him to remember the name of a person like you who was just a nobody at school.

"Hey why quiet?" He whined as he suddenely stopped in front of you.

You looked up at him with a sign of vulnerability in your eyes.

"Everyone says that we have a spark." He said as your eyes widened and your mouth opened but no sound came out.

Your mind shoots back to the memory to first year when you and Heeseung had shared the same train cabin. You two had had the best time on the Hogwarts Express as you had chatted for hours and laughed away. The other two students who also shared the train cabin had spoke up and pointed out that you two had a spark among yourselves. You two had looked at each other as you both had coughed awkwardly as the train had come to an halt at Hogwarts and you two had scuttled away from each other.

But why was he bringing it up now?

"W-who said that?' You stuttered out.

"Everyone does. I know that you consider yourself as a nobody but that's not correct. You're very popular among the boys." He said with a smile.

"Really?" You were in utter disbelief.

He nods as he steps close as he whispers into your ear, hot breath flowing down,"And I know everything about you."

You look at him bewildered.

"What do you think? My attention is always on you." He said with a chuckle as he held your shoulders and turned you around. Your back now faced him.

"Let's continue patrolling!" He announced happily as he pushed you a bit to start you walking.

You two walked around the dungeons and realised that the dungeons were a HUGE place.

As you two walked towards a isolated place which glowed more green than the other areas, Heeseung pinned you to the wall.

Your breath stuck in your throat, you stuttered out,"W-what are you doing Hee?"

He looked deep into your eyes.

"You know what?" He asked."I cannot hide it anymore."

"I like you."

Those three words made butterflies erupt into your stomach.

"Really?" You ask.

He nods.

"Through all those fangirls and other playgirls, I waited for you. Only you."

You two stand looking deep into each other's eyes as he breaks the silence.

He speaks up with a bit of hesitance. "What about you? Do you feel anything towards me?"

You chuckle at his straightforward behaviour.

"Yes." You hiss out. He chuckles happy as he jumps around the dungeon.

He opens his arms as you accept the hug happily.

"I am the happiest man on earth." He says then he goes quiet as you see a smirk grow on his face.

"Well, well." He takes small steps towards you as you back away till your back hits the cold dungeon wall.

"We're all alone you see." He points out as he continues,"And it's late so nobody will pass through this part of the dungeon."

"S-so?" You ask as he walks close as you feel his warm breath flow on your face.

"I am no playboy, Kim Y/N. " He says as you feel his hand wraps around your waist.

"And right now I want to fuck you." He presses his body on yours and groans as he whispers in your ear. "And now the thing that is left is your permission to allow me to."

You hesitate but soon feel him whisper,"I have waited too long. I can't control it."

He licks your earlobe as he nibbles on it, making your knees go weak and panties damp.

"Heeseung." You breath out his name. He hums while he places wet kisses down your neck.

"Fuck me."

And that were the only two words that Heeseung ever wanted to hear in his life from your mouth.

Heeseung pulls you into his arms, his lips crashing against yours in a heated and intimate kiss. His hands roam your body with a sense of urgency, leaving a trail of fire everywhere he touches. You respond eagerly, wrapping your hands over his shoulder.

Every touch sparks into flames, as you two forget about your surroundings.

Heeseung groans against your mouth, pressing his body on yours as he rubs his clothed cock on you.

"Oh god. You drive me crazy, you know that? he whispers, his voice thick with desire.

His hands move with confidence and purpose, knowing exactly how to drive you wild. "I can't get enough of this." Heeseung murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck.

Heeseung’s kisses move lower, his lips and tongue exploring every inch of your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His hands are everywhere, caressing, teasing, and worshipping your body.

He slips your panties down and slides a hand over your pussy which makes you gasp. You tilt your head back and he makes rounded movements on your clit.

Suddenly he flattens his tongue over you, licking a long line from your entrance to your clit. You cry out again, feeling lightheaded as your hands squeeze into fists. He slides 2 fingers into your slick opening, and you know it won't be long before you're coming.

"Feel good?", he murmurs, his voice a low, seductive growl. His eyes lock onto yours, the intensity in his gaze holding you captive. Your back arches off the wall, and you struggle to find your voice, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps

"S-so good," you manage to whisper out.

Heeseung’s smile widens, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. He moistens his hand, his fingers gliding over your clit with a newfound slickness, amplifying the sensation. The friction combined with the wetness sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making you cry out. His movements become more insistent, his fingers expertly playing your body.

Heeseung’s fingers maintain their relentless rhythm, each movement pushes toward your climax.

His fingers dive lower, exploring your wetness before returning to your clit, now wet with your cunt and his cock. He adds a third finger, sliding them inside you, curling them just right to hit that sensitive spot that makes your knees almost give out. Your body is caught in a whirlwind of pleasure as you hear him say,"Tell me how much you want this."

"I need you so bad, heeseung. please, don’t stop." You moan out unable to keep quiet.

His eyes darken with desire, and increases the pace of his fingers, thrusting them deeper inside you. The sound of your wetness fills the dungeons. But you two are not scared of getting caught.

"Come for me. Show me how much you wanted me all these years."

His words is your signal. With a final, high-pitched moan, you come, your body clenching around his fingers, the pleasure crashing over you in waves.

As you calm down, he takes his fingers out of you, bringing them to his lips and licking them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. The sight is intense.

Heeseung kisses you, lips claiming yours with a new level of neediness. You can taste yourself on his tongue, a reminder of the pleasure he just gave you.

He pulls away from the kiss, his eyes dark with desire as he looks down at you, his breath ragged.

Heeseung’s eyes glow with desire, as he aligns his cock with your entrance, his tip touching your sensitive clit, making you gasp.

Heeseung chuckles darkly as he slams into you, a broken groan leaving his lips. He begins to fuck into you at an ungodly pace and you cling to him, moans and desperate cries leaving your lips. Heeseung's lips find your neck and bite at the skin there as he continues to snap his hips into yours and every time his pelvis connects with yours, you feel going to heaven and back.

"You’re so tight." He groans, his voice rough. "Damn you make me feel so good."

You can only moan in response, your body meeting his thrusts eagerly, the pleasure overwhelming. Heeseung’s movements become more uneven, his control slipping as he nears his own climax. He reaches between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts.

The dual sensation is too much, and you feel yourself moving toward another climax.

"Cummming for me again babygirl? yeah?" He says, his forehead still on yours, his breathing ragged.

With a final, powerful thrust, he sends you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you in a wave of ecstasy.

He follows you moments later, his own release tearing through him, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you. He collapses on top of you, his breath ragged and his body trembling.

You pulls your panties up as you sit down on the dungeon floor tired.

He sits down and pulls you onto his lap."Fuck, you are mine." he bites his lips and places his head in the hollow of your neck.

"Gata Only."

THE END-----

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Hope you enjoyed the story! You can send me your request and ideas! I love reading them. Requests open to be in my perm taglist..

[songbirdseung]

love potion / lee heeseung - requested

at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Lee Heeseung and you have always been rivals, each determined to outshine the other in every class, duel, and academic challenge. their heated competition has been the talk of the school since their first year, with neither willing to back down or admit any weakness. but when a special project forces them to work together, they begin to see each other in a new light. wc 14k genre hogwarts au, academic rivals au, enemies to lovers warnings im not a potterhead, so if my references or knowledge is off, i apologize thank you anon for the request

you were calmly making your way through the crowd toward the bulletin board, where the top students in astronomy would soon be announced. head held high with the confidence that your name would remain at the top, you moved forward as the other students stepped aside. you nodded in silent thanks, then waited for the results.

"well, isn't it my best friend, yn." of course, it was him. you looked to your left, offering the tall male a fake smile.

"heeseung."

"yn."

your enemy, your arch-nemesis, your rival—lee heeseung. a gryffindor with a knack for pushing your buttons and getting under your skin. he never missed a chance to challenge you, always eager to knock you off your pedestal.

"my favorite ravenclaw, ready to step down a rank?" he teased, his chuckle following as you rolled your eyes.

"still dreaming?" you nudged him, turning your attention back to the board.

you and heeseung had been the top students in your year since your very first day at hogwarts. your rivalry was as old as your time at the school, with each of you trying to outdo the other in every subject, every exam, and every challenge that came your way. both of you were fiercely competitive, and your battle for the number one spot was legendary among your peers.

yet, despite the constant competition, there was a mutual respect between you—an unspoken acknowledgment of each other's talent and determination. but that didn’t stop either of you from doing whatever it took to come out on top. today was no different, and as the results were about to be revealed, the tension between you was palpable.

"let's see if the results speak for themselves," you muttered, eyes locked on the board as the names started to appear.

"i guess we'll find out," heeseung replied, his tone teasing but with an edge of anticipation.

as you stood there, waiting for the results, your mind drifted back to your first year at hogwarts—back to when this rivalry with heeseung began.

it had all started in your first potions class. you were both twelve, eager to prove yourselves, and it didn’t take long for sparks to fly. professor snape had just finished explaining the day’s assignment, a simple potion to test your skills. you were confident, already preparing your ingredients with precision, when you noticed him glancing your way.

“think you can manage this without blowing up your cauldron?” heeseung had whispered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“worry about your own potion, heeseung,” you shot back, not even bothering to look up. but the challenge in his tone was unmistakable, and you felt a surge of determination to outdo him.

the class had been tense, the air thick with unspoken competition. every movement he made, every precise cut of his ingredients, only fueled your resolve. you’d both finished your potions at nearly the same time, and when professor snape evaluated them, he had given you both identical marks—top scores, of course. neither of you had been satisfied with the tie.

from that day on, it was a constant game of one-upmanship. every assignment, every test, every chance to prove who was the better student was met with the same intensity. your interactions were always tense, filled with sarcastic remarks and thinly veiled insults, but there was something else there too—an undeniable spark that kept you both on your toes.

as the memory faded, you found yourself back in the present, standing next to heeseung once again. the tension between you was still there, just as it had been from the start.

the results began to appear on the board, each name materializing in glowing script. your eyes scanned the list, heart pounding in anticipation. then, you saw it—your name, right at the top where it belonged.

a breath of relief escaped your lips, quickly followed by a triumphant smile. you had done it. again.

right beneath your name, heeseung’s appeared, just a point behind you. so close, yet not close enough.

heeseung’s eyes narrowed as he took in the results, his usual smirk faltering for just a moment. “looks like you’re still holding on,” he said, the edge in his voice impossible to miss.

“just barely,” you replied, unable to resist the dig. “maybe next time, heeseung.”

he let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “we’ll see about that. enjoy it while it lasts.”

you met his gaze, the familiar mix of rivalry and respect sparking between you. there was no need for more words; the scoreboard had spoken. but as you turned to leave, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this battle was far from over. heeseung was nothing if not persistent, and you knew he’d be back, ready to challenge you again.

the following week, the rivalry between you and heeseung only intensified. it was an unspoken rule now—every class, every moment, was a new battleground.

in defense against the dark arts, professor lupin had just paired you with heeseung for a dueling exercise. as you stood across from each other, wands at the ready, the air was thick with tension. the rest of the class watched in anticipation, fully aware of the competitive history between the two of you.

“expelliarmus!” heeseung was quick, but you were quicker, deflecting his spell with ease before countering with a well-aimed “protego!” the duel was fast-paced, each of you pushing the other to the limit, neither willing to back down. the room buzzed with energy as your classmates murmured, eyes glued to the battle unfolding before them.

it wasn’t just in defense against the dark arts where the competition was fierce. in every class, you and heeseung were neck and neck, always vying for the top spot. whether it was transfiguration, potions, or charms, the two of you were constantly being compared—by your peers, by the professors, and even by yourselves.

“excellent work, miss yn,” professor mcgonagall would say, only to follow it with, “and you too, mr. heeseung, as always.” there was no escaping the constant comparisons, the subtle remarks from professors who couldn’t help but pit you against each other.

your classmates had started to place bets on who would come out on top in the next exam or who would win the next duel. it was as if your rivalry had become a sport, a source of entertainment for the entire school.

as the duel between you and heeseung reached its peak, a burst of laughter erupted from the back of the room. jay, jake, and ni-ki, heeseung’s closest friends, had been watching the entire time, their eyes glinting with amusement.

“you two are at it again,” jay called out, his tone teasing. “honestly, yn, you’re going to give heeseung a complex if you keep this up.”

jake smirked, leaning against the wall with a casual air. “or maybe it’s the other way around? heeseung, don’t tell me you’re going easy on her.”

heeseung shot them a look, a mix of irritation and amusement flashing in his eyes. “as if. you know i never back down from a challenge.”

ni-ki, the youngest of the group, couldn’t help but add, “this is getting good. professor lupin should just let you two go at it every class. way more interesting than the usual lessons.”

you rolled your eyes at their comments, but couldn’t help the slight grin that tugged at your lips. their banter was all part of the routine now, just like your rivalry with heeseung. still, you weren’t about to let their remarks distract you.

“you might want to focus, heeseung,” you said, your voice dripping with mock sweetness. “i’d hate for your friends to see you lose.”

heeseung’s gaze snapped back to you, the competitive fire in his eyes reigniting. “oh, i’m focused,” he replied, his tone low and determined. “let’s see if you can keep up.”

with that, the duel resumed, your wands clashing with renewed intensity. jay, jake, and ni-ki continued to make their remarks, laughing and egging heeseung on, but you tuned them out. all that mattered was winning—proving that you were still the best, even with the added pressure of an audience.

the room seemed to hold its breath as you and heeseung traded spells, each trying to outmaneuver the other. you could feel the eyes of your classmates on you, the whispers and murmurs growing louder with each passing second.

finally, professor lupin stepped in, raising his wand to separate the two of you. “enough, that’s enough,” he said, though there was a hint of a smile on his face. “excellent dueling, both of you. i think that’s enough excitement for one class.”

you and heeseung lowered your wands, breathing heavily but refusing to break eye contact. jay, jake, and ni-ki applauded, their laughter filling the room as they moved to join heeseung, slapping him on the back and throwing more teasing comments his way.

“nice try, yn,” jay said with a grin. “but you know heeseung’s just getting warmed up.”

“we’ll see about that,” you replied, your competitive spirit as strong as ever. you knew this wasn’t the end—far from it.

class ended, but the tension between you and heeseung lingered like a storm cloud. as the students filed out of the classroom, you gathered your things, feeling a simmering frustration that you couldn't quite shake. heeseung, flanked by jay, jake, and ni-ki, was the last to leave, and you could feel his gaze on you as you shoved your books into your bag.

"you really think you can keep this up forever?" heeseung's voice cut through the air, stopping you in your tracks. you turned to face him, your eyes flashing with anger.

"what’s that supposed to mean?" you snapped, your patience wearing thin.

heeseung stepped closer, his expression hardening. "you act like you're invincible, yn. like no one can touch you. but newsflash: you’re not unbeatable."

you took a step forward, refusing to back down. "and you act like you're the only one who can challenge me. but you’re always just a step behind, aren’t you?"

jay, jake, and ni-ki exchanged glances, sensing the rising tension but staying silent, their eyes flicking between you and heeseung.

"maybe it’s time you realized that being at the top isn’t just about grades," heeseung shot back, his voice low and edged with frustration. "it’s about how you handle the pressure, how you treat the people around you. and from where I’m standing, you’ve got a lot to learn."

the words stung, and you felt your cheeks flush with anger. "and what about you, heeseung? always so smug, always so sure you’re going to knock me down. newsflash: you haven’t succeeded yet."

heeseung’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something more—something almost vulnerable. but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the familiar competitive fire.

"we’ll see about that," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "this isn’t over, yn. not by a long shot."

you glared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. "bring it on, heeseung."

with that, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the classroom, leaving heeseung and his friends behind. the echoes of your argument lingered in the hallway, a testament to the fierce rivalry that defined your time at hogwarts.

as you stormed down the corridor, trying to push the argument with heeseung out of your mind, you heard hurried footsteps behind you. before you could turn, sunoo, jungwon, and sunghoon appeared at your side, concern written all over their faces.

“yn, wait up!” sunoo called out, his tone softer than usual. when he caught sight of your expression, his eyes widened. “what happened? you look like you’re about to hex someone.”

jungwon shot a worried glance at sunoo before focusing on you. “was it heeseung again? we saw him talking to you after class.”

you let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair as you tried to calm yourself down. “yeah, it was heeseung. who else would it be?”

sunghoon, always the calm and collected one, placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “you can’t let him get to you like this, yn. he’s just trying to mess with your head.”

“i know,” you muttered, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface. “it’s just—he gets under my skin so easily. he acts like he’s always just one step away from beating me, and it drives me crazy.”

sunoo, ever the empathetic one, frowned. “but you always come out on top, yn. you know that. heeseung’s just trying to throw you off your game.”

jungwon nodded in agreement. “and we’re here to make sure he doesn’t. you’re better than him, and you know it.”

you couldn’t help but feel a bit of the tension ease at their words. they always knew how to pull you back from the edge, reminding you of your strengths and why you were the top student.

“thanks, guys,” you said, managing a small smile. “i just… i don’t know why he gets to me like this.”

sunghoon gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “because he’s your rival. it’s natural. but remember, we’re all in this together. we’ve got your back, no matter what.”

sunoo grinned, his usual brightness returning. “and if heeseung gives you any more trouble, we’ll deal with him. right, guys?”

jungwon and sunghoon both nodded, their expressions determined. “absolutely,” jungwon added. “you’re not alone in this, yn.”

their support brought a wave of relief, and you felt the anger start to dissipate, replaced by a renewed sense of determination. with friends like these by your side, you knew you could handle whatever heeseung—and the rivalry—threw your way.

“thanks,” you said again, this time with more confidence. “i needed that.”

“anytime,” sunghoon replied with a smile. “now, how about we grab something from the kitchens? nothing like a good snack to take your mind off things.”

sunoo’s eyes lit up at the suggestion. “great idea! let’s go.”

the next morning, you sat in transfiguration, trying to focus as professor mcgonagall addressed the class. but your mind was still replaying the argument with heeseung from the day before, the tension between the two of you lingering like a dark cloud.

“today, we will begin a special project,” professor mcgonagall announced, her stern gaze sweeping across the room. “this project will require you to work in pairs, combining your knowledge and skills to complete a challenging task over the next few weeks.”

the class buzzed with excitement and nervous whispers as students exchanged glances, already wondering who they’d be paired with. you exchanged a quick look with sunoo, who was sitting beside you, silently hoping you’d get paired with one of your friends.

professor mcgonagall continued, her voice cutting through the chatter. “i’ve taken the liberty of assigning the pairs myself. the purpose of this project is not only to test your abilities but also to challenge you to work effectively with others.”

your heart sank at the mention of assigned pairs. you braced yourself, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

“yn,” professor mcgonagall’s voice rang out, and your stomach tightened with anxiety. “you will be paired with… heeseung.”

a collective gasp and a few stifled giggles spread through the classroom as your worst fear was confirmed. your eyes darted to heeseung, who was sitting a few rows away. his expression mirrored your own—shock, followed by a flash of irritation.

sunoo, sitting next to you, shot you a sympathetic look. “i can’t believe this,” he whispered, his voice filled with disbelief.

“there must be some mistake,” you muttered under your breath, but you knew there wasn’t. professor mcgonagall’s decisions were final, and there was no way out of this.

heeseung’s friends, jay, jake, and ni-ki, exchanged amused glances, barely containing their laughter. ni-ki leaned over and whispered something to heeseung, who responded with a roll of his eyes and a barely concealed grimace.

“i expect both of you to put your differences aside and work together,” professor mcgonagall added, her tone leaving no room for argument. “this project is a significant part of your grade, and i trust you’ll take it seriously.”

you swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure as the rest of the pairs were announced. by the time professor mcgonagall finished, your mind was racing with a thousand thoughts, all centered around the fact that you were now stuck working with heeseung.

as class ended, you gathered your things slowly, dreading the inevitable conversation with him. you could already feel the tension building, the animosity between you growing thicker by the second.

heeseung approached you, his expression unreadable. for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, the weight of the situation hanging heavy in the air.

“well,” he finally said, his tone clipped. “looks like we’re stuck together.”

“it’s not like i’m thrilled about this either,” you shot back, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “but i’m not about to let this project tank my grade, so let’s just get it over with.”

heeseung’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded in agreement. “fine. but don’t think for a second that i’m going to go easy on you.”

“i wouldn’t expect you to,” you replied, your voice firm.

despite your protests and the obvious tension between you and heeseung, there was no escaping the inevitable. the project was set in stone, and you both knew there was no way out of it. after class, professor mcgonagall handed each pair a parchment detailing their assigned project. as you and heeseung opened yours, the complexity of the task became immediately clear.

“ancient magical artifacts?” you muttered, scanning the details. “we’re supposed to research, analyze, and present our findings on three different artifacts from the restricted section?”

heeseung frowned, clearly not thrilled either. “and we have to perform a demonstration of how they were used in their time? this is going to be a nightmare.”

“it’s not like we have a choice,” you replied, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice. “we’ll need to go to the restricted section as soon as possible to get started.”

heeseung glanced at you, a mixture of reluctance and resignation in his eyes. “yeah, I guess so. let’s just get this over with.”

the two of you made your way to the library, the tension between you palpable. as you walked in silence, you couldn’t help but reflect on how strange this situation was. after years of rivalry and animosity, you were now forced to work together on one of the most challenging projects either of you had ever faced.

in the library, you approached madam pince, the stern librarian who guarded the restricted section with an iron fist. after showing her your parchment and explaining the project, she reluctantly allowed you both access, though not without a sharp warning to handle the books with care.

once inside the restricted section, you and heeseung began the painstaking process of searching for information on the artifacts. the atmosphere was heavy, the air thick with the scent of old parchment and dust. as you leafed through ancient tomes and scrolls, the silence between you grew more uncomfortable by the minute.

finally, heeseung broke the silence. “look, we need to split this up if we’re going to get anywhere. how about we each take one artifact to research on our own, and then we’ll work on the third together?”

you looked up from the book you were skimming, considering his proposal. “fine,” you agreed, though you couldn’t help the edge in your voice. “but we need to make sure we’re thorough. this project is going to be tough, and i’m not about to let my grade suffer because of sloppy work.”

heeseung shot you a sharp look. “i’m not sloppy, yn. i know how to handle a project like this. just focus on your part, and i’ll focus on mine.”

you sighed, biting back a retort. the last thing you needed was another argument. “fine,” you repeated, turning back to the book in front of you. “let’s just get this done.”

as the hours passed, you and heeseung worked in near silence, occasionally exchanging a terse comment or asking a quick question, but mostly staying in your own worlds. the artifacts you were researching were fascinating—each one held powerful magic and a rich history—but the tension between you and heeseung made it hard to focus.

by the time you’d gathered enough information to start working on your individual parts, the sun had begun to set outside, casting long shadows across the library. you closed your book with a tired sigh, glancing at heeseung, who was still deep in his research.

“we should call it a day,” you said, breaking the silence. “we can start writing up our findings tomorrow.”

heeseung looked up, his expression unreadable. “yeah, we’ll need to if we want to stay on track.”

you both gathered your things, and as you left the library, the weight of the project—and your partnership—settled heavily on your shoulders. it was clear that this collaboration was going to be anything but easy. the animosity between you and heeseung was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, but now it was mixed with something else—an uneasy alliance, born out of necessity rather than choice.

as you walked back to your common room, you couldn’t help but wonder how you were going to survive the next few weeks. the project was complex, the stakes were high, and you were stuck working with the one person who always seemed to bring out the worst in you.

but despite the tension and the challenges ahead, one thing was certain: you weren’t going to let heeseung beat you. not now, not ever.

the next few days were a blur of bickering, frustration, and barely suppressed anger as you and heeseung tried to navigate the complexities of your project. from the moment you met up in the library each day, the tension between you was almost unbearable, and it didn’t take long for the disagreements to start.

“we need to focus more on the historical context,” you insisted one afternoon, your voice rising in frustration. “the way these artifacts were used is just as important as the magic they contain.”

heeseung rolled his eyes, clearly not in the mood to agree. “we can’t get bogged down in the history, yn. the practical applications of the magic are what really matter. if we don’t demonstrate that, our project is going to fall flat.”

you shot him a glare, feeling your temper flare. “and if we ignore the history, we’ll miss the whole point of why these artifacts are important in the first place. it’s not just about the magic—it’s about the people who used it and how it shaped their lives.”

heeseung crossed his arms, clearly not convinced. “fine, but we can’t spend all our time on that. we need to strike a balance, or we’re going to run out of time.”

“then maybe if you’d actually listen to my ideas instead of dismissing them, we wouldn’t be wasting so much time arguing,” you snapped back, your patience wearing thin.

heeseung’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you thought he might argue further. but instead, he took a deep breath and seemed to force himself to calm down. “fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “let’s focus on the history for now, but we’re going to need to move on to the practical demonstrations soon. agreed?”

you hesitated, still feeling the sting of his earlier dismissal, but you knew he was right about the time constraints. “agreed,” you muttered, though your frustration was still simmering just beneath the surface.

the rest of the afternoon continued in much the same way, with the two of you struggling to find common ground. every decision—whether it was about the structure of your presentation, the content of your research, or the approach to your demonstrations—seemed to turn into a battle of wills, with neither of you willing to back down easily.

“i think we should use the hand of glory for our demonstration,” heeseung said during one particularly heated discussion. “it’s one of the most powerful artifacts we’re studying, and it’ll make a big impact.”

you frowned, shaking your head. “it’s too dangerous. we don’t know enough about how it works, and if we make a mistake, we could end up causing real harm. the bezoar stone is a safer option, and it still has a lot of practical applications.”

“safe isn’t going to impress professor mcgonagall,” heeseung shot back, his tone sharp. “we need to take risks if we want to stand out.”

“and what if those risks backfire?” you countered, refusing to budge. “we’re not going to get any points if we end up in the hospital wing because of a careless mistake.”

the argument dragged on, neither of you willing to concede, until finally, heeseung threw up his hands in exasperation. “fine, we’ll go with the bezoar stone, but you’d better make sure it’s impressive.”

you bit back a retort, knowing that continuing to argue would only waste more time. “i will,” you said curtly, turning back to your notes.

something began to shift as you and heeseung spent more time together. the initial days of your partnership were filled with nothing but tension and stubbornness, but slowly, almost imperceptibly, you started to notice things about him that you hadn’t before.

one evening, while you were both deep in the restricted section of the library, you watched as heeseung meticulously transcribed information from a particularly ancient text. his brow was furrowed in concentration, and there was an intensity in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before. it was clear that he was deeply invested in the project, despite his earlier dismissive attitude.

“you’re really into this, aren’t you?” you found yourself saying, unable to keep the surprise out of your voice.

heeseung looked up, momentarily startled by the lack of sarcasm in your tone. “of course i am,” he replied, a bit defensively. “just because we don’t see eye to eye on everything doesn’t mean i don’t care about this project.”

you nodded slowly, feeling a small flicker of respect for his dedication. “i guess i just didn’t expect you to be so… thorough.”

heeseung shrugged, but there was a hint of pride in his expression. “i take my work seriously. especially when it’s something as challenging as this.”

you didn’t say anything more, but as you turned back to your own research, you couldn’t help but think about how different heeseung was when he wasn’t trying to one-up you. beneath the rivalry and the bravado, there was a serious, determined student who was just as passionate about his studies as you were.

over the next few days, you began to notice other things too—small details that hinted at a side of heeseung you hadn’t seen before. the way he’d quietly stay late in the library, long after you were ready to call it a night, making sure every detail of your project was perfect. the way he’d occasionally offer a rare word of praise when you made a breakthrough, even if it was grudgingly given. and the way his expression would soften, just for a moment, when he thought you weren’t looking, revealing a vulnerability that he usually kept hidden behind his confident exterior.

in turn, you sensed that heeseung was starting to see you in a different light as well. you caught him watching you sometimes, a thoughtful look in his eyes, as if he was reevaluating everything he’d thought about you. when you made a particularly strong argument or came up with a clever solution to a problem, there was a flicker of something like admiration in his gaze, though he was careful to hide it most of the time.

one afternoon, while you were both working in a quiet corner of the library, you noticed heeseung struggling with a particularly complicated spell that was central to your project. he was trying to recreate the effects of the spell using a detailed diagram, but no matter how many times he tried, the results weren’t quite right.

“here,” you said, surprising both of you as you reached out to help. “let me see.”

heeseung hesitated for a moment, clearly not used to accepting help from you, but eventually, he handed over the parchment. you studied the diagram for a moment, then adjusted a few key elements, altering the flow of the magical energy.

“try it now,” you suggested, handing the parchment back.

heeseung glanced at you, then at the parchment, before nodding. he carefully followed the adjustments you’d made, and this time, the spell came together perfectly, the magical energy aligning just as it should.

he looked at you, a mix of surprise and gratitude in his eyes. “how did you…?”

“you were overthinking it,” you explained with a small shrug. “sometimes the simplest solution is the best one.”

heeseung stared at you for a moment longer, and you could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he processed what had just happened. then, to your surprise, he offered a small, genuine smile—one that lacked the usual competitive edge.

“thanks,” he said quietly, and for the first time, it felt like he was speaking to you as a person, not just as his rival.

“don’t mention it,” you replied, feeling a strange warmth in your chest at the unexpected moment of connection.

from that point on, the dynamic between you and heeseung began to shift, bit by bit.

it was another late night in the library, the kind that had become all too familiar over the past few weeks. the moonlight filtered through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the room as you and heeseung worked in relative silence. the only sounds were the soft scratching of quills on parchment and the occasional rustle of pages being turned.

you had been at it for hours, piecing together the final sections of your project. exhaustion was beginning to take its toll, but neither of you was willing to call it quits just yet. there was too much at stake, and the deadline was looming ever closer.

“we’re almost there,” heeseung said, his voice low and slightly hoarse from lack of sleep. “just a few more details to iron out.”

you nodded, stifling a yawn as you scribbled down some final notes. “yeah, but we need to make sure everything’s perfect. professor mcgonagall isn’t going to go easy on us.”

heeseung snorted softly. “she never does.”

for a while, you both worked in comfortable silence, the earlier tension between you having dissipated over the course of your collaboration. it was strange how the rivalry that had once defined your interactions had gradually given way to a kind of mutual understanding. you still didn’t always agree, but there was a new level of respect that hadn’t been there before.

as the clock ticked closer to midnight, you leaned back in your chair, rubbing your tired eyes. “i can’t believe we’re actually going to pull this off.”

heeseung glanced up from his work, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “yeah, who would’ve thought?”

you chuckled softly, the sound a little weary but genuine. “certainly not me.”

for a moment, you both just sat there, the weight of the past few weeks settling over you. it had been an intense and challenging journey, one that had pushed both of you to your limits. and now, as the project neared completion, there was a strange sense of camaraderie between you—something that felt almost foreign after years of animosity.

“why do you push yourself so hard, yn?” heeseung’s voice broke the silence, catching you off guard. “i mean, we’ve been competing for so long, but i never really knew why you’re so driven. what’s your reason?”

you blinked, surprised by the question. it wasn’t something you’d ever expected him to ask, let alone something you’d planned to share. but there was something about the quiet intimacy of the moment, the exhaustion and the late hour, that made you feel like maybe—just maybe—you could let your guard down, if only a little.

“it’s… complicated,” you began, your voice hesitant as you searched for the right words. “i guess it all started with my family. they’ve always had high expectations, you know? being a ravenclaw, there’s this constant pressure to be the best, to excel in everything. my parents—they were both top of their class when they were here, and they expect the same from me. i’ve always felt like i had to prove myself, to show them that i’m just as good, if not better.”

heeseung listened quietly, his expression thoughtful as you spoke. you could see a flicker of understanding in his eyes, like he was beginning to piece together parts of you that he hadn’t seen before.

“it’s exhausting,” you admitted, feeling a little vulnerable. “sometimes it feels like no matter what i do, it’s never enough. so i keep pushing myself, hoping that maybe, one day, i’ll finally be able to meet their expectations.”

there was a long pause, the silence between you filled with unspoken emotions. then, to your surprise, heeseung spoke up, his voice unusually soft. “i get it. i mean, it’s different for me, but… i get it.”

you looked at him, curiosity piqued. “what do you mean?”

heeseung hesitated for a moment, as if debating whether or not to share. but then, he sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “my family’s different. they’re not as focused on academics, but… they’ve always been there for me, supporting me in everything i do. i know how lucky i am to have that, but it also means i don’t want to disappoint them. they’ve sacrificed a lot for me to be here, and i feel like i owe it to them to succeed, to make the most of the opportunities they’ve given me.”

you listened, surprised by the honesty in his words. it was a side of heeseung you hadn’t seen before—one that was driven not just by ambition or competition, but by a deep sense of responsibility and gratitude.

“so that’s why you’re always so determined,” you said quietly, beginning to understand. “it’s not just about beating me or being the best—it’s about making sure your family’s sacrifices weren’t in vain.”

heeseung nodded, his expression serious. “yeah, something like that. and i guess… it’s also about proving to myself that i can do it. that i’m not just coasting on their support, but that i’m actually capable of achieving something on my own.”

you both fell silent again, the weight of your shared stories hanging in the air. it was strange, this newfound understanding between you—like a fragile bridge built over years of rivalry and competition. but as you sat there, side by side in the quiet library, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t so different after all.

“we’ve both been carrying a lot, haven’t we?” you finally said, your voice soft.

heeseung nodded, a faint smile touching his lips. “yeah, we have. but i guess that’s what makes us who we are.”

“rivals,” you said with a small, rueful laugh.

“and maybe something more,” heeseung added, his tone thoughtful.

you looked at him, a little startled by his words, but there was no teasing or challenge in his expression—just a quiet, genuine honesty that you hadn’t expected.

“maybe,” you agreed, feeling a strange warmth in your chest.

as the days passed, the dynamic between you and heeseung continued to evolve —a subtle undertone of respect that hadn’t been there before.

you found yourselves falling into a rhythm, one that surprised you both. there were moments when you’d catch heeseung watching you as you worked, his expression unreadable, as if he were seeing you in a new light. at times, you’d notice yourself doing the same, observing the way he methodically tackled challenges, his determination unyielding.

it was during one of these moments, late at night when the rest of the castle was asleep, that you first began to acknowledge the shift between you. you were both hunched over the same ancient tome, deciphering the intricate details of a particularly difficult spell. without thinking, you leaned closer to see better, your shoulders brushing against each other.

“here, try adjusting the incantation this way,” heeseung suggested, his voice low and steady as he pointed to a line of text. “it should help stabilize the magical flow.”

you followed his suggestion, altering the incantation slightly before attempting the spell again. to your surprise, it worked perfectly, the magical energy aligning just as it should.

“that actually worked,” you said, looking up at him with a mix of surprise and appreciation. “nice catch, heeseung.”

heeseung gave you a small, almost shy smile—one that lacked the usual competitive edge. “thanks. you know, you’re not half bad at this either, yn.”

the unexpected compliment caught you off guard, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. eventually, you settled for a simple, “you’re not so bad yourself.”

the exchange was brief, but it marked a turning point in your partnership. there were still disagreements and moments of tension, but they were now balanced by a growing sense of camaraderie. you found yourselves working more smoothly together, each of you beginning to trust the other’s judgment in ways you hadn’t before.

during one particularly challenging task, you even surprised yourself by seeking out heeseung’s advice willingly. you were struggling with a particularly tricky potion that was integral to your project, and after several failed attempts, you finally turned to him.

“i can’t seem to get the consistency right,” you admitted, frustration creeping into your voice. “the potion keeps separating, no matter how carefully i follow the instructions.”

heeseung leaned over to inspect your work, his brow furrowing in concentration. “let me see… i think you might be adding the crushed bezoar too early. try mixing it in after the potion reaches a simmer.”

you followed his suggestion, and sure enough, the potion began to come together perfectly, the ingredients blending smoothly.

“how do you do that?” you asked, a mix of admiration and curiosity in your voice. “you always seem to know exactly what’s going wrong.”

heeseung shrugged, but there was a hint of pride in his expression. “i’ve always been good with potions. i guess i just have a knack for it.”

“well, it’s impressive,” you admitted, feeling a twinge of respect for him. “thanks for the help.”

heeseung nodded, his expression softening slightly. “anytime.”

as the days continued to pass, these moments of mutual respect and understanding became more frequent. you found yourself looking forward to the time spent working together, even if you were still reluctant to fully acknowledge it. there was something comforting about the way you could challenge each other, push each other to be better, without the usual undercurrent of animosity.

but despite the growing bond between you, neither of you was quite ready to admit it out loud. the rivalry that had defined your relationship for so long was still there, lingering in the background, and old habits were hard to break. you were both too stubborn, too proud, to fully let go of the competitive edge that had always driven you.

yet, even as you continued to trade barbs and challenge each other, there was a new undercurrent of something else—something that felt almost like friendship, though neither of you would have dared to call it that. it was still too soon, too uncertain, to fully embrace the change. but the first signs were there, undeniable in the way you worked together, in the way you’d begun to see each other as more than just rivals.

one evening, as you were packing up your things after a long day of work, heeseung hesitated before speaking. “you know, yn… we make a pretty good team.”

you paused, surprised by his words. for a moment, you considered brushing it off with a sarcastic remark, but something in his tone stopped you. instead, you found yourself nodding, a small, reluctant smile tugging at your lips. “yeah, we do.”

heeseung smiled back, and for the first time, it felt like a genuine connection—one that went beyond the rivalry that had defined your relationship for so long.

as you both left the library that night, walking side by side through the quiet halls of hogwarts, you couldn’t help but wonder what the future held for you both. the rivalry was still there, but it was no longer the only thing that defined your relationship.

one evening, as you were both working late in the deserted classroom you’d claimed as your project base, the air was thick with tension. the amulet lay on the table between you, glowing faintly with an eerie, pulsating light. you had just finished deciphering a particularly complicated series of runes when heeseung spoke up.

“we need to be careful with this next part,” he said, his voice low and serious. “the spell to activate the amulet’s power is extremely sensitive. if we get it wrong, it could backfire.”

you nodded, feeling a knot of anxiety form in your stomach. “i know. but we’ve come this far—we can’t stop now.”

heeseung met your gaze, and for a moment, you saw the same determination mirrored in his eyes. “agreed. let’s do this.”

you both took a deep breath and began the incantation, your voices blending together as you carefully followed the instructions you’d painstakingly translated from the ancient text. the air around you seemed to hum with energy, the light from the amulet growing brighter with each word spoken.

but just as you reached the final phrase, something went wrong. the amulet’s glow intensified suddenly, flaring with a blinding brilliance that made you both flinch. a high-pitched whine filled the room, and before you could react, the amulet exploded with a burst of uncontrolled magic.

you were thrown back by the force of the blast, crashing into the wall behind you. the impact knocked the wind out of you, leaving you gasping for breath as the room spun around you. through the haze of pain and disorientation, you heard heeseung shout your name.

“yn! are you okay?”

you forced yourself to sit up, wincing at the sharp pain in your side. “i’m fine,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky. “what about you?”

heeseung was already on his feet, his wand drawn as he surveyed the chaotic scene. “i’m okay, but the amulet—” he broke off, his expression darkening as he pointed to where the artifact had been moments before.

the amulet was now hovering in midair, surrounded by a crackling aura of unstable magic. the runes etched into its surface were glowing with a malevolent light, and the energy it was emitting was growing stronger by the second.

“we have to stop it,” heeseung said urgently, his voice tight with fear. “if it releases all that magic at once, it could destroy the whole room—and us with it.”

you nodded, your mind racing as you tried to think of a solution. “we need to contain the magic, redirect it somehow before it builds up too much.”

heeseung’s eyes darted around the room, and you could see the wheels turning in his mind. “i think i can create a barrier around it, but i’ll need your help to stabilize it. can you do that?”

you nodded, pushing yourself to your feet despite the pain. “i’ll do my best.”

working quickly, you and heeseung moved into position, your wands raised as you began casting the necessary spells. heeseung’s barrier started to form around the amulet, a shimmering dome of protective magic, but the unstable energy was resisting, threatening to break through.

“it’s not holding,” heeseung gritted out, sweat beading on his forehead as he fought to maintain the barrier. “i need more power—now!”

you didn’t hesitate, channeling your magic into the spell he was casting. the strain was immense, the pressure of the wild magic pushing against your combined efforts, but you held on, focusing all your energy on keeping the barrier intact.

for a few terrifying moments, it felt like the magic would overwhelm you, like the barrier would shatter and unleash the full force of the amulet’s power. but then, slowly, the chaotic energy began to stabilize, the violent pulses of magic subsiding as your spells took hold.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, the glow of the amulet began to fade, the crackling aura dissipating as the magic was safely contained. you and heeseung maintained the barrier for a few moments longer, just to be sure, before finally allowing it to dissolve.

as the room fell into an exhausted silence, you both stood there, breathing heavily, your hands trembling from the effort. the amulet now lay on the floor, inert and harmless, the danger passed.

“we did it,” you said softly, your voice filled with a mix of relief and disbelief.

heeseung nodded, his expression a mix of exhaustion and something else—something that looked almost like admiration. “yeah, we did. you were incredible, yn. i couldn’t have done it without you.”

you met his gaze, feeling a strange warmth in your chest despite the lingering fear and exhaustion. “we make a good team,” you admitted, the words coming easier now after everything you’d just been through.

heeseung smiled, a genuine, unguarded smile that you rarely saw from him. “yeah, we do.”

the days following the incident were marked by an undeniable shift in the way you and heeseung interacted. the rivalry that had once defined your relationship felt less intense, as if the near-disaster had forced you both to re-evaluate what truly mattered. neither of you brought up the magical mishap directly, but it hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had formed during those tense moments.

you noticed it first in the way heeseung spoke to you. gone was the sharp edge to his voice, the ever-present hint of competition. instead, his tone was more measured, even respectful. it was as if the experience had softened something in him, allowing a different side to emerge.

one afternoon, as you both sat in the library reviewing notes, you caught him glancing at you out of the corner of your eye. when you looked up, he didn’t immediately look away, instead holding your gaze for a moment longer than usual.

“about what happened,” heeseung began, his voice unusually quiet. “i’ve been thinking… maybe we’ve been going about this all wrong.”

you raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “what do you mean?”

he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he searched for the right words. “we’ve spent so much time trying to outdo each other that we never really stopped to consider what we could accomplish if we actually worked together. i mean, look at what we did the other night. we barely made it out of that mess, but we did it—because we were working as a team.”

you nodded slowly, his words resonating with the thoughts that had been swirling in your mind since the incident. “yeah, you’re right. it’s strange… after all these years of competing, I never really thought about what it would be like to be on the same side. it’s… easier than I expected.”

heeseung smiled faintly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “easier? coming from you, that’s saying something.”

you rolled your eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. “don’t get used to it.”

he chuckled, the sound surprisingly warm, and for a brief moment, the usual tension between you dissolved, replaced by something lighter, almost friendly.

as the days went by, this new dynamic began to take root. you still challenged each other, still pushed each other to be better, but there was a noticeable difference in the way you approached it. the sharp edges of your rivalry had softened, making room for something more collaborative.

one evening, while you were both working late in the library, the conversation drifted away from the project and onto more personal topics. it started innocently enough, with a question about favorite books, but soon, you found yourselves sharing more than just academic preferences.

“you know,” you said, leaning back in your chair, “i always thought you were just this arrogant gryffindor who enjoyed making my life difficult.”

heeseung laughed softly, shaking his head. “and i always thought you were a stuck-up ravenclaw who couldn’t stand to lose. guess we both had the wrong idea.”

“yeah,” you agreed, a small smile tugging at your lips. “it’s funny how things turn out.”

heeseung’s expression grew more serious, and he hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “there’s more to it than that, though. i’ve always felt like i had something to prove, like i had to be the best at everything to… i don’t know, be taken seriously, i guess. and competing with you—well, it made me push myself harder.”

you listened quietly, sensing that this was something he didn’t often talk about. “i get that,” you said after a moment. “i’ve always felt the same way. being the best is a way of proving to myself that i’m worth something. but i think… i think i’ve realized that there’s more to it than just winning.”

heeseung nodded, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “yeah. maybe we don’t have to be rivals all the time. maybe we can just… be.”

the simplicity of his words struck a chord with you, and for the first time in a long while, you felt the walls you’d built up around yourself start to crumble. the rivalry, the constant need to prove yourself—it all seemed less important in the face of the connection you were beginning to forge.

“maybe we can,” you agreed softly, a tentative smile crossing your face.

as the conversation continued, you found yourselves sharing stories, laughing at old memories, and even confiding in each other about your hopes and fears. the change was subtle, but undeniable. you were no longer just rivals, no longer defined solely by your competition. you were two people who had been through a lot together, who were starting to see each other in a new light.

you found yourselves meeting up more frequently, not just in the library or classrooms, but in quieter corners of the castle where you could work without interruption. at first, it was strictly about the project, but gradually, your conversations began to drift into more personal territory.

“i’ve never really asked,” you said one evening, as you both sat by the fire in the ravenclaw common room, books and parchment spread out before you. “why do you push yourself so hard in school? i mean, i get the competition, but it seems like there’s more to it.”

heeseung looked up from his notes, surprised by the question. he was silent for a moment, as if weighing how much to reveal. “i guess it’s because i’ve always felt like i had something to prove,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “being the eldest son in my family comes with a lot of expectations. and at hogwarts, it’s like… it’s my chance to show that i’m capable of more than just living up to the family name. but it’s exhausting sometimes.”

you nodded, understanding all too well. “i know what you mean. for me, it’s about feeling like i belong. growing up, i was always the odd one out, the bookworm who didn’t quite fit in. being at the top here—it’s my way of proving that i’m good enough, that i deserve to be here. but yeah, it can be lonely.”

heeseung looked at you then, his gaze softer, more empathetic than you’d ever seen it. “i never thought about it like that,” he said quietly. “i guess we’re more alike than i realized.”

the shared understanding created a new kind of bond between you, one that extended beyond academic rivalry. over the next few weeks, your study sessions became more frequent, and your conversations grew deeper. you found yourself looking forward to these moments, enjoying his company in a way that surprised you.

the shift in your dynamic didn’t go unnoticed by your fellow students. whispers and sideways glances followed you in the hallways, and more than a few knowing smiles were exchanged when you and heeseung walked into the library together.

“well, well, look who’s finally getting along,” one of your ravenclaw classmates teased as you passed by. “i never thought i’d see the day.”

you rolled your eyes, trying to brush off the comment, but you couldn’t ignore the slight warmth that crept into your cheeks.

heeseung, however, seemed unfazed by the attention. “let them talk,” he said with a shrug as you both settled into your usual spot. “they’ve got nothing better to do.”

but the teasing wasn’t limited to just your house. in gryffindor, heeseung’s friends were just as quick to notice the change.

“so, heeseung,” jay drawled one afternoon as they sat in the common room, “you and yn seem to be spending a lot of time together these days. should we be expecting wedding invitations soon?”

heeseung shot him a withering look, though his friends could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “it’s not like that,” he muttered, but the way he avoided their eyes made them exchange amused glances.

“sure, sure,” jake chimed in, grinning. “it’s just a project, right? nothing more.”

“you guys are impossible,” heeseung sighed, shaking his head, but there was no real irritation in his voice. if anything, the teasing felt oddly comforting, a sign that even his friends could see the positive change in him.

over time, the teasing became a constant background noise, something neither of you could completely escape, but you found that it didn’t bother you as much as you thought it would. if anything, it only highlighted how much things had changed between you and heeseung. you were no longer just rivals locked in a never-ending battle for supremacy. you were… something else, something that neither of you had quite figured out yet.

and as the days went by, you realized that you didn’t mind the change. in fact, you were starting to welcome it.

as the end of the term approached, hogwarts was abuzz with excitement for the upcoming winter ball. the great hall was already being transformed, adorned with shimmering icicles and twinkling fairy lights that gave the castle a magical, ethereal glow. students chattered eagerly about their outfits, their dates, and the promise of a night filled with music, dancing, and festive cheer.

you, however, hadn’t given much thought to the ball. between your classes, the ongoing project with heeseung, and the unexpected shift in your dynamic, your mind was already occupied with enough complications. the idea of finding a date just seemed like another task on an already overflowing list.

that changed one afternoon when you found yourself alone in the courtyard, enjoying a rare moment of quiet. the crisp winter air nipped at your cheeks as you flipped through the pages of your book, trying to ignore the cold as you immersed yourself in your studies.

“yn?” a voice called, pulling you from your thoughts.

you looked up to see felix, a cheerful hufflepuff with a wide, friendly grin and an air of perpetual optimism. you’d always liked him; his bright energy was infectious, and he had a way of making everyone around him feel at ease.

“hey, felix,” you greeted him, closing your book and offering him a smile.

he seemed a little nervous, shifting from foot to foot as he approached. “um, i hope i’m not interrupting,” he began, glancing down at your book.

“no, not at all,” you replied, curious about what had brought him over. “what’s up?”

felix took a deep breath, as if steeling himself. “well, i was wondering… have you decided who you’re going to the winter ball with yet?”

the question caught you off guard. you hadn’t expected anyone to ask, especially not felix, and for a moment, you just stared at him, trying to process what he was saying.

“i… haven’t really thought about it,” you admitted, feeling a bit flustered.

“well, if you’re not going with anyone yet,” felix said, his grin widening as he took the plunge, “i was hoping you might consider going with me.”

before you could respond, a familiar voice cut through the air, laced with an unmistakable note of possessiveness.

“actually, she’s already going with me.”

you turned to see heeseung standing a few steps away, his expression calm but his eyes flashing with something that looked suspiciously like jealousy. his appearance was so sudden and unexpected that you found yourself momentarily speechless.

felix blinked, clearly surprised by the interruption. “oh… really? i didn’t know you two were—”

“we are,” heeseung interjected smoothly, stepping closer to you and giving you a look that was both challenging and expectant, as if daring you to contradict him.

you opened your mouth to protest, to correct him, but the words didn’t come. instead, you found yourself caught between the two of them, your mind racing to make sense of the situation.

felix, ever the good sport, chuckled awkwardly and raised his hands in surrender. “well, that’s settled then. i guess i’ll have to find someone else to go with,” he said, his tone light, though there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes.

“thanks for asking, though, felix,” you managed to say, still reeling from the sudden turn of events.

he gave you a good-natured smile. “no worries. see you at the ball, then.” with a final nod, felix turned and walked away, leaving you alone with heeseung.

the silence that followed was thick with unspoken words. you turned to heeseung, who was watching felix’s retreating figure with an unreadable expression.

“what was that about?” you asked, your voice tinged with confusion and more than a little annoyance. “i never agreed to go with you.”

heeseung finally looked at you, and you saw a flicker of something vulnerable beneath his usual confident facade. “i know,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck in a rare show of uncertainty. “but i couldn’t just let you go with someone else.”

you frowned, trying to make sense of his words. “why not?”

he hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground before he spoke again. “because… because i wanted to go with you.”

the simplicity of his confession caught you off guard. for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. you’d always seen heeseung as your rival, your equal in so many ways, but this was different. this was him, standing before you, stripped of the usual bravado and letting you see a side of him that you hadn’t fully acknowledged before.

“heeseung…” you started, unsure of what to say.

“look, i know it’s sudden,” he continued, his tone softer now. “and i know we’ve had our… issues. but things have been different between us lately, and i just thought—well, maybe we could try being something other than rivals, even if it’s just for one night.”

you studied him for a long moment, searching his face for any sign of the arrogance that usually defined your interactions. but all you saw was sincerity, and something that looked an awful lot like hope.

“okay,” you said finally, your voice quiet but firm. “i’ll go with you.”

his expression brightened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he let out a breath he didn’t seem to realize he’d been holding. “really?”

“really,” you confirmed, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the confusion still swirling in your mind.

heeseung’s answering smile was one of pure relief and genuine happiness. “great. i’ll… i’ll meet you at the entrance hall before the ball?”

you nodded, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. “yeah. sounds good.”

with that, heeseung gave you one last look, a mix of excitement and something else that made your heart flutter unexpectedly, before turning and walking away.

the next weekend, you found yourself in diagon alley, flanked by sunoo and yuna as you wandered through a boutique filled with elegant gowns and robes. the winter ball was fast approaching, and the three of you had decided to make a day of it, searching for the perfect outfits to wear.

as sunoo and yuna enthusiastically pulled dresses off racks, debating colors and styles, you found your thoughts drifting to heeseung. ever since he had asked you to the ball—if you could even call it asking—you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. the way he had looked at you, the way his voice had softened when he spoke… it was all so confusing.

“yn, what do you think of this one?” yuna’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you turned to see her holding up a shimmering navy gown with delicate silver embroidery.

“it’s beautiful,” you replied automatically, though your mind was elsewhere.

“but is it you?” sunoo chimed in, giving you a knowing look. “you’ve been a bit out of it today. something on your mind?”

you hesitated, not sure how to put your jumbled thoughts into words. “it’s nothing,” you said, trying to sound casual as you flipped through a rack of dresses.

“it’s obviously not nothing,” yuna pointed out, setting the dress aside and crossing her arms. “you’ve been spacing out all day. is this about the ball? or maybe… who you’re going with?”

you sighed, realizing there was no point in trying to hide it. sunoo and yuna knew you too well. “it’s heeseung,” you admitted, finally voicing the name that had been circling your mind. “i can’t figure out what’s going on between us. one minute we’re rivals, the next we’re working together, and now… now he’s asked me to the ball. but i don’t even know if he really likes me, or if he’s just messing with me.”

sunoo exchanged a glance with yuna, and they both gave you a sympathetic look. “have you thought about just asking him how he feels?” sunoo suggested gently. “it might clear things up.”

“or maybe you could try to figure out how you feel first,” yuna added, her tone soft. “it sounds like you’re just as confused about your own feelings as you are about his.”

you let out a frustrated breath, running a hand through your hair. “i know, but it’s just… complicated. he’s always been my rival, my competition. i don’t know how to deal with this sudden shift.”

“come on, let’s sit down for a minute,” sunoo said, taking your arm and steering you toward the dressing room area. yuna followed, concern etched on her face.

once inside the small, cozy room, sunoo and yuna guided you to one of the plush benches, sitting on either side of you. the soft lighting and quiet atmosphere provided a much-needed break from the overwhelming swirl of emotions you were feeling.

“yn,” yuna began, her voice soothing, “it’s okay to be confused. you’ve been dealing with a lot lately, and it’s only natural that your feelings might be all over the place. but whatever you’re feeling, it’s valid. you don’t have to have everything figured out right now.”

sunoo nodded in agreement, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “and if heeseung really does like you—and it sounds like he might—then he’ll understand that this is new territory for you both. you don’t have to rush into anything. just take it one step at a time.”

you looked between your two friends, their warmth and understanding providing a balm to your frayed nerves. “thanks, guys,” you said quietly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “i guess i just needed to hear that it’s okay to not have all the answers.”

“of course it’s okay,” yuna said, squeezing your hand. “and whatever happens, we’ll be here for you. whether you end up with heeseung or not, we’ve got your back.”

sunoo grinned, his usual playful demeanor shining through. “and hey, if heeseung gives you any trouble, you know we’ll take care of him.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at that, the tension in your chest easing a little. “i’m sure you will.”

the night of the winter ball arrived, and hogwarts was transformed into a winter wonderland. the great hall was adorned with twinkling lights, enchanted snowflakes drifting down from the enchanted ceiling without ever touching the ground. the sound of soft music filled the air, setting the stage for an evening of magic and memories.

you stood in front of the mirror in your dormitory, adjusting the soft, flowing fabric of your dress—the very same navy gown yuna had suggested. its silver embroidery shimmered in the candlelight, complementing the simple yet elegant look you had chosen. despite your earlier doubts, you couldn’t deny that you felt a mix of excitement and nerves fluttering in your stomach.

“you look amazing,” yuna said, smiling as she fixed the last few strands of her hair in the mirror beside you. sunoo, dressed in sharp robes, gave you an approving nod.

“heeseung’s not going to know what hit him,” sunoo teased, winking at you.

you rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. “let’s just hope he doesn’t trip over his own feet when he sees me.”

with a final deep breath, you made your way to the entrance hall, where students were gathering before entering the great hall. you spotted heeseung almost immediately, standing off to the side, talking with jay, jake, and ni-ki. he looked up as you approached, his gaze locking onto yours, and for a moment, it felt like everything else faded away.

heeseung was dressed in dark, tailored robes that accentuated his tall frame, his hair neatly styled. but what caught your attention most was the way he was looking at you—something warm and appreciative in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine.

“you look… wow,” heeseung said, his voice almost a whisper as you reached him. he seemed momentarily at a loss for words, a rare sight for someone usually so confident and quick with a remark.

“you don’t look so bad yourself,” you replied, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding in your chest.

his friends took the opportunity to make themselves scarce, offering you both knowing grins as they wandered off into the crowd. you and heeseung were left standing there, the unspoken tension between you suddenly feeling much more tangible.

“shall we?” heeseung asked, offering you his arm with a slightly awkward but endearing smile.

you hesitated for only a moment before accepting, looping your arm through his. together, you made your way into the great hall, the soft strains of music growing louder as you entered the beautifully decorated room. chandeliers glimmered overhead, casting a warm glow over the assembled students, who were already beginning to pair off and dance.

for a while, the two of you simply walked around the edges of the hall, exchanging polite conversation about anything but the real question hovering between you. you couldn’t help but notice how heeseung’s arm stayed close to yours, how he seemed to be making a conscious effort to stay by your side.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, heeseung stopped and turned to face you, his expression a mix of nervousness and determination. “do you… want to dance?” he asked, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

“i’d like that,” you replied, surprising even yourself with how much you meant it.

he led you onto the dance floor, the soft strains of a waltz beginning to play as you found your place among the other couples. heeseung’s hand rested lightly on your waist, his other hand holding yours with a gentleness that contrasted with the fierce competitor you were so used to seeing.

the first few steps were tentative, both of you trying to find your rhythm. it was awkward at first—heeseung’s foot nearly caught on the hem of your dress, and you stumbled slightly as you tried to keep up with the music. but then heeseung let out a quiet laugh, the sound light and warm, and you found yourself laughing too.

“maybe we’re not cut out for ballroom dancing,” you joked, your nerves easing as you looked up at him.

“speak for yourself,” heeseung shot back playfully, his smile widening. “i’m just getting started.”

with that, he spun you gently, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way he seemed to be enjoying himself. the awkwardness began to fade, replaced by a strange but pleasant feeling of comfort. you found your rhythm together, your steps more in sync with each passing moment.

as the music swelled, you felt something shift between you. there was a new understanding, a silent acknowledgment that things were different now. it wasn’t just about competition or rivalry anymore—it was about enjoying each other’s company, about recognizing the connection that had grown between you.

when the song finally ended, you found yourself still in his arms, neither of you making a move to pull away. the applause of the other students was just background noise as you looked up at him, your heart beating a little faster.

“i had fun,” heeseung said softly, his gaze holding yours.

“me too,” you admitted, realizing that you meant it more than you ever thought you would.

for a moment, it seemed like he might say something more, but then the next song started, and you both became aware of the other students around you. with a slightly bashful smile, heeseung stepped back, releasing your hand reluctantly.

“should we get some punch?” he suggested, trying to break the sudden tension.

“yeah, that sounds good,” you agreed, though a part of you missed the closeness already.

as you walked off the dance floor together, you couldn’t help but feel that this night had marked a turning point. the rivalry that had once defined your relationship was beginning to fade, replaced by something new—something that was still unfolding, but felt like the start of something important.

as the night wound down and the last notes of music faded into the background, the students began to filter out of the great hall, their laughter and chatter filling the corridors of hogwarts. you and heeseung lingered near the entrance, neither of you in a rush to return to your respective common rooms. the night had been unexpectedly wonderful, and neither of you seemed ready for it to end.

“want to take the long way back?” heeseung asked, his voice quiet, as if not to disturb the magic of the evening.

you nodded, feeling the same reluctance to let the moment slip away. “sure.”

together, you slipped out of the main entrance and into the cool night air. the grounds were bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, the stars twinkling brightly in the clear sky above. the castle loomed behind you, its silhouette majestic against the night, but your attention was focused on the path ahead and the quiet presence beside you.

for a while, you walked in comfortable silence, the only sounds the gentle rustling of the trees and the distant hooting of an owl. it was peaceful, almost surreal after the bustling energy of the ball.

“tonight was… different,” heeseung finally said, breaking the silence. his voice was thoughtful, as if he were carefully choosing his words.

“yeah, it was,” you agreed, glancing up at him. “but it was nice.”

“it was,” he echoed, a small smile playing on his lips. “i didn’t think we’d end up having fun, to be honest.”

“neither did i,” you admitted with a chuckle. “i guess we’re both full of surprises.”

heeseung laughed softly, the sound carrying in the stillness of the night. “i guess we are. you know, i always thought we’d be stuck as rivals forever, constantly trying to outdo each other.”

“me too,” you said, your tone growing more reflective. “but maybe that’s just how we needed to start. it’s how we pushed each other to be better.”

heeseung nodded, his gaze fixed on the stars above. “and maybe… maybe there’s more to us than just competition.”

you felt your heart skip a beat at his words, the implication hanging in the air between you. “maybe,” you said softly, unsure of what else to say.

you continued walking, the silence between you now filled with unspoken thoughts and questions. there was a new understanding between you, something that felt fragile and new, yet powerful. it was as if the night itself was holding its breath, waiting to see where this newfound connection would lead.

as you approached the point where your paths would diverge—him to gryffindor tower and you to the ravenclaw common room—heeseung slowed his steps, turning to face you.

“i’m glad we did this,” he said, his voice sincere. “i’m glad we… got to know each other a little better.”

“me too,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “it feels like a new beginning.”

heeseung smiled, a genuine, warm smile that reached his eyes. “yeah, it does.”

there was a moment of hesitation, as if both of you were waiting for something more to be said, something that might tip the balance of whatever was happening between you. but then, with a small, almost shy nod, heeseung stepped back.

“goodnight, yn,” he said, his voice gentle.

“goodnight, heeseung,” you replied, a soft smile on your lips.

The days following the winter ball were a confusing whirlwind of emotions. Your interactions with Heeseung had become charged with an unspoken tension that neither of you dared to address. The rivalry that had once defined your relationship seemed to be fading, replaced by something much more complicated. You found yourself drawn to him in ways you never expected, but the fear of the unknown kept you on edge.

Every time you were together, whether it was working on your project or passing each other in the corridors, there was a lingering sense of anticipation, like something was about to happen. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. The way he looked at you had changed—there was a softness in his gaze that hadn’t been there before, but it was always coupled with an underlying tension that kept you both on guard.

One afternoon, you and Heeseung were in the library, surrounded by stacks of ancient books and parchment. The project was almost complete, and with it, the excuse to spend time together was coming to an end. Heeseung was unusually quiet, his focus seemingly elsewhere as he absently flipped through a dusty tome.

“Are you okay?” you asked, breaking the silence, your voice softer than usual. You’d grown accustomed to his company, and the thought of something being wrong between you gnawed at your insides.

Heeseung didn’t look up. “Just thinking,” he replied, his tone distant.

“About what?” you pressed, sensing that whatever was bothering him, it had to do with more than just the project.

He finally met your eyes, but instead of the warmth you had come to expect, there was a hardness there, something defensive. “About how maybe we’ve been wasting our time on this project. I mean, what’s the point? It’s not like we’re going to change anything.”

His words felt like a slap in the face, cutting through the fragile connection you had been building. You had poured your energy into this project, but more than that, you had opened yourself up to him in ways you hadn’t done with anyone else. And now, it felt like he was dismissing all of it.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice. “We’ve been working hard on this—together.”

Heeseung’s expression was unreadable, but his voice was laced with frustration. “Yeah, together,” he repeated. “But maybe we’ve been too focused on this… on us, and not enough on what really matters.”

The implication behind his words stung deeply. It felt like he was saying that everything between you—the late-night study sessions, the shared glances, the subtle shifts in your dynamic—meant nothing to him. Your chest tightened, and you felt a surge of anger rise up, mingling with the hurt.

“So you think this was a mistake? That we were a mistake?” you asked, your voice trembling as you struggled to keep your emotions in check.

“No, that’s not what I—” Heeseung started, but the damage was already done.

You stood up abruptly, your chair scraping loudly against the stone floor, drawing the attention of a few nearby students. “If that’s how you feel, then maybe we should just finish this project and go back to being rivals,” you snapped, the bitterness in your tone making it clear how much his words had affected you. “It’s clearly all we’re good at.”

Heeseung’s face fell, and you could see the regret in his eyes, but your hurt and anger were too strong to let him off the hook that easily. Without another word, you gathered your things and stormed out of the library, leaving him sitting there, looking like he wanted to take back every word he had just said. But it was too late. The fragile connection you had begun to form was shattered.

The days that followed were some of the hardest you’d experienced at Hogwarts. You threw yourself into your studies and Quidditch practice, anything to distract yourself from the gaping hole that had been left by your fight with Heeseung. Sunoo and Yuna noticed the change in you, but they gave you space, sensing that you weren’t ready to talk about what had happened.

But no matter how much you tried to focus on other things, your thoughts kept circling back to him. The hurtful words he had said, the regret in his eyes as you walked away—it all replayed in your mind over and over again. You had never been this affected by someone before, and the realization of just how much Heeseung meant to you was overwhelming.

You missed him. You missed the way he challenged you, the way he made you laugh even when you didn’t want to, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the room. But more than anything, you missed the way he had started to let you see the real him, the parts of himself that he kept hidden from everyone else.

In Gryffindor Tower, Heeseung was going through his own turmoil. He hadn’t meant to hurt you, but his fear of what he was feeling had driven him to push you away. It had been easier to fall back on the familiar role of rivals than to face the truth: that he cared about you more than he had ever cared about anyone else. But now, with you gone, he was left with nothing but regret.

He replayed your argument in his head, wishing he could take back every word. He missed you, more than he thought possible. The way you challenged him, the way you made him want to be better, the way your presence had become something he looked forward to every day. He couldn’t ignore it any longer. He was in love with you, and the thought of losing you was unbearable.

It took several days of wrestling with his emotions, but eventually, Heeseung knew what he had to do. He couldn’t let things end like this, not when there was still so much left unsaid.

It was late in the evening when you returned to the Ravenclaw common room after a grueling Quidditch practice. Your muscles ached, and all you wanted was to collapse into bed and forget about the day. But as you stepped through the entrance, you were greeted by an unexpected sight.

Heeseung was standing by the entrance, his posture tense and his eyes locked on you the moment you walked in. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, his usual confident demeanor replaced by something much more vulnerable.

“YN, wait,” he said, his voice almost pleading as he took a step towards you.

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. You weren’t sure if you were ready for this conversation, but something in his expression made you pause.

“What do you want, Heeseung?” you asked, your voice guarded. You couldn’t afford to be hurt by him again.

“To apologize,” he said quickly, his voice filled with urgency. “And to explain.”

You crossed your arms, trying to maintain your composure. “Go on.”

Heeseung took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what he was about to say. “I didn’t mean what I said the other day,” he began, his voice filled with regret. “I was… scared, confused. This whole thing with us, it’s different, and it caught me off guard. I’ve spent so long thinking of you as my rival, as someone I needed to beat, that I didn’t know how to handle it when I started feeling… something more.”

His words hung in the air, and you felt your heart start to race. You had suspected, hoped even, that he might feel the same way, but hearing it out loud was a different matter entirely.

“So you pushed me away,” you said, your voice softer now, the hurt still evident but mixed with something else—understanding.

Heeseung nodded, his expression pained. “Yeah, and that was wrong. I’ve been an idiot, YN. The truth is, I’ve come to care about you—a lot. More than I ever thought I could. And the thought of messing that up scared me, so I tried to pretend like it didn’t matter, like we didn’t matter. But we do. You do.”

You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability that he was laying bare before you. Heeseung, who had always been so confident, so sure of himself, was now standing in front of you, admitting his fears and his feelings. It was a side of him you had never seen before, and it made your heart ache with both sadness and hope.

“You really hurt me, you know,” you said, your voice trembling as you let yourself acknowledge the pain he had caused.

“I know,” Heeseung replied, his voice filled with remorse. “And I’m so sorry. I don’t want to hurt you, YN. I want to be with you. Not as rivals, but as… something more. If you’ll give me another chance.”

There was a long pause as you stood there, processing his words. The anger and hurt you had been holding onto for days were slowly melting away, replaced by a warmth that you couldn’t ignore. Heeseung had hurt you, yes, but he was also the person who had challenged you, who had pushed you to be better, who had made you feel things you had never felt before. And as you looked into his eyes, you realized that you didn’t want to go back to the way things were. You wanted to move forward—with him.

Finally, you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I think I’d like that,” you said, your voice soft but filled with hope.

Relief washed over Heeseung’s face, and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. “Thank you,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude.

Before you could respond, he stepped forward and wrapped you in a tight, warm embrace. It was the first time he had ever hugged you, and it felt like everything had finally fallen into place. All the tension, all the rivalry, all the confusion—it all melted away in that moment, leaving only the two of you, standing together under the soft glow of the common room’s enchanted candles.

As you rested your head against his chest, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that whatever came next, you were ready to face it together. And as Heeseung held you close, you knew he felt the same.

[starryhyuck]

only one for me. (m) — PATREON EXCLUSIVE

pairing: gryffindor!mark x afab!gryffindor!reader

words: 3.9k+

summary: lee donghyuck triggers a possessive tick in your boyfriend that you’ve never seen before.

genre: smut

warnings: hyuck voyeurism dynamics, jealous!mark, library sex, degradation, possessiveness, cuckolding (kind of), daddy kink, throat fucking, pussy eating, squirting

this fic is exclusive to both tiers on my patreon, which you can access here! below is a tumblr preview

When you usually meet Donghyuck in the Potions room for your assignment, you expect him to stride in with a noisy entrance.

So it comes as no surprise to you when he slides into the room dressed in a leather jacket from a muggle store, sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose. He angles them downwards, one hand on his hip as he says, “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

You roll your eyes, flipping through your Potions book to search for ingredients. “Is that some muggle phrase that’s supposed to woo me, Hyuck?”

“It woos all the ladies, sweetheart, magical or muggle,” he says cockily, taking his seat at your shared desk and propping his feet up next to the cauldron.

“Why don’t you actually help me and start crushing the asphodel?”

“Sweetheart, don’t you get tired of being such a good girl? I swear, I would’ve assumed you were in Ravenclaw if it weren’t for you and your boyfriend bleeding Gryffindor red,” he scoffs before his smirk widens. “Say, where is that little boyfriend of yours?”

“At Quidditch practice,” you answer, re-reading the instructions printed on the page. “You have such an odd fascination with him.”

“He’s cute,” Donghyuck shrugs. “And Renjun’s parents switched him to Durmstrang, so our love can never be. Mark, however, gets particularly miffed whenever I bring you into the equation and it brings me a certain joy that I cannot describe.”

You shake your head in disapproval, pushing his feet off the desk. “Go fetch the asphodel and start working.”

“Yes, mom.”

You work in a peaceful silence for thirty minutes, besides the occasional hum from Donghyuck and a shimmy of his hips. It’s why you’re both startled when the door swings open and Mark rushes in, panting and glaring at the man beside you.

“M-Mark,” you stutter, ceasing your stirring of the cauldron. Donghyuck pauses mixing the ingredients next to you, chuckling when he spots your erratic partner. “I thought you had Quidditch practice.”

“We got out early,” he grumbles, walking over until he has an arm wrapped around your waist, tugging you close and sealing his lips over yours. He keeps his eyes locked on Donghyuck the entire time while the younger male simply smiles at him.

“Mark!” You squeak, pushing away from him and shyly glancing at Donghyuck’s reaction in discomfort. It seems to anger your boyfriend even further, lips curled in a sneer.

“Run off and make yourself useful somewhere else. I’ll take care of the rest of the potion with her.”

Donghyuck grins. “A night off and a free grade? You must really be intimidated by me,” he says, laughing to himself. He leans over to kiss your cheek and you roll your eyes and swat him off. Mark appears to be five seconds away from casting a dark curse over him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, honey. Don’t invite the sad little Eeyore to our private hangout next time.”

When Donghyuck leaves the room, Mark turns to you with steam practically coming out of his ears. “What is that? That muggle term he used, Eeyore? Was he making fun of me?”

“He was just trying to get under your skin,” you giggle, booping his nose and fawning over how cute he is. “Is that why you’ve been so worked up lately? Hyuck is just an annoying Slytherin nuisance. He was born that way.”

“He was born to irritate me,” he hisses, pouting as he begins mixing the ingredients like Donghyuck was. “You’ve been spending all your time with him lately. And I don’t like that you call him Hyuck.”

You laugh. “This project makes up half of our grade. Mark, you can’t seriously be jealous of him, can you? You didn’t even get jealous when Lee Jeno tried to ask me out last year.”

“That’s because Jeno is an innocent puppy who didn’t know we were dating,” he corrects, sprinkling the asphodel into the cauldron. “Donghyuck, on the other hand, knows we’re together and still flirts with you.”

You sigh, gripping Mark’s chin and pulling him to you to press your lips against his. He eagerly accepts your touch and you smile.

“Just remember you’re the one I love, my silly Gryffindor.”

want to read the rest? access both tiers on my patreon here!

[sweetbabycheesez]

Mistrial and Error

The dungeons always felt too clean. That might’ve been your first clue—how the stones beneath your shoes didn’t echo the same way they did in the upper floors of the castle. You noticed these things, the way your hair always fell neatly even when you didn’t try, the way your robes always looked pressed and sharp like they were charmed by house-elves who understood taste. The way others looked at you in the Great Hall when you laughed too loudly or rolled your eyes mid-conversation like you were meant to be invisible in public spaces.

But Fred Weasley had never once asked you to be quiet.

Maybe that’s what did you in.

You don’t even remember how it started, not really. One minute, you were calling him and George "sideshow performers with delusions of grandeur" in a Transfiguration class group assignment, and the next, he was helping you hide your hand after you hexed a desk by accident and left scorch marks in the wood.

You were supposed to hate each other. Gryffindor and Slytherin, born into rivalry. You—Y/N Everleigh Marlowe—of the noble Marlowe line. Your father was a Ministry official, your mother a socialite who once danced with a Beauxbatons diplomat under the Midsummer Moon. You were raised on tailor-fitted cloaks, books without cracked spines, and expectations that hovered above your head like stormclouds.

Fred? Fred Weasley wore someone else’s boots to Hogsmeade, patched his gloves with mismatched thread, and had a laugh that sounded like it didn’t care who was listening.

You met in between.

Your friends—Becca Muldoon, Talia Greengrass, and Isadora Flint—knew something was up before anyone else. Not because you told them. You wouldn’t. But because they noticed how you smiled into your pumpkin juice at breakfast. How you left gatherings early with the excuse of “prefect business,” despite not being one.

“You fancy him,” Becca had said once, biting into a chocolate frog.

“Fancy who?” You were too quick to deflect.

“The ginger menace.” Talia smirked.

“Fred Weasley?” Isadora asked like it was a curse.

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t be daft.”

But of course, Fred heard it. You didn’t know he’d been behind you, just outside the corridor by the Slytherin common room entrance, behind a tapestry of Merwyn the Mad. He’d been waiting with a note charmed to sing softly when touched—your signal. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the words stopped him cold.

You fancy him.

Fred Weasley.

He grinned like an idiot all the way back to Gryffindor tower.

Fred’s Perspective

He kept the bracelet hidden under his sleeve—silver and green, braided with enchanted thread that shimmered when he ran his thumb over it. You made it for him after your first real argument ended with you both snogging behind the Greenhouses.

He was writing when Ginny stole the letter.

“You’re up to something,” she said, peering over his shoulder.

Fred shoved the parchment under his elbow. “Get lost, Gin.”

“Oi! He’s writing poetry!” Lee Jordan yelled from the sofa.

“Bet it’s to Angelina,” George said with a wink.

Fred’s ears turned red.

Ginny was faster. She snatched the letter with a laugh, dodging Fred’s arm.

“You’re proper annoying, you know that?” he barked, lunging for her.

She read aloud:

‘I don’t care if your common room’s buried in snake statues and pretension. I’d follow you down there any day if it meant I’d see your stupid smirk again.’

The common room exploded with laughter.

“Give it back!” Fred snapped, snatching it from her hand.

Lee leaned forward. “Who’s the Slytherin girl?”

George’s brow furrowed. “No way… Y/N Marlowe?”

Silence.

Hermione’s mouth fell open. Ron stared. Harry blinked like he hadn’t heard right.

“Mind your own bloody business,” Fred snarled. “All of you.”

“You’re dating her?” Ron looked scandalised.

Fred stood. “You don’t know her. You don’t know anything about us.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow. “Bit defensive, aren’t we?”

Fred didn’t answer. He stormed off, fists clenched.

He didn’t need them to understand.

She was worth it.

There was always someone watching.

You noticed it the first time Fred sent a paper origami bird fluttering across the Great Hall. It landed in your lap with a little curtsy. You smiled despite yourself.

The note read: Dinner’s never been this interesting.

Hermione Granger caught it first, her gaze flickering between you and Fred like she was assembling a puzzle.

Then George.

Then Harry.

Then Ron, who looked like he’d just bitten into a lemon.

You ignored the whispers.

It was different, being with Fred. He never judged your clipped words or your cold front. He saw through it.

“D’you practice looking like a snob in the mirror?” he teased once.

“Do you practice looking like you got dressed in the dark?” you fired back.

He’d kissed you then, just to shut you up.

Honeydukes, Hogsmeade Trip

You were sharing a lollipop in Honeydukes when Talia walked in.

“Of course it’s you,” she muttered under her breath.

Fred looked like he’d been caught robbing Gringotts.

You swallowed. “Don’t say anything.”

Talia tilted her head. “I won’t. Just… be careful.”

Gryffindor Common Room, Later

“Oi, Fred,” George said, holding up the bracelet. “Found this under your bed.”

Fred snatched it. “Mine.”

Lee frowned. “You made a silver and green bracelet?”

Fred gritted his teeth. “Yeah. Problem?”

“No. Just weird is all.”

Hermione whispered something to Harry. Harry whispered to Ron. Fred felt them all staring.

“Right, that’s it,” he snapped. “She’s not your problem. She’s not rude, she’s just got the privilege to be. She’s smart, sharp as anything. She sees through every fake smile at those Ministry galas. And yeah, her robes are clean and her handwriting’s perfect, but I’d bet my last Chocolate Frog she’d hex anyone who called her stuck up.”

Silence.

Fred stormed to his room.

When you met again behind the Herbology greenhouses, you wrapped your arms around him.

He kissed you deep and slow, pulling you against him like he needed to.

“You’ve been smoking,” he murmured against your mouth.

You pulled back. “No I haven’t.”

“You have.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe a bit.”

He grinned. “Can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

He did. His lips were warm and soft, but firm—like they knew what they wanted. His fingers found your waist, your jaw, then your hair. You raked your fingers through his, tugging at the roots until he groaned low against your mouth.

When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless.

“Reckon we’ve got five minutes before someone catches us,” he said.

“Four, actually.”

You both burst out laughing.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t supposed to be. But it was yours.

[imagineweasley]

The Price of Pumpkins

Fred and George x y/n, platonic

summary: you, fred, and george are the pranksters of hogwarts. one day, you three decide to take revenge into your own hands during a charms lesson. unfortunately, you are caught and flitwick decides be a bit more creative with his punishment.

y/n: your name

y/l/n: your last name

word count: 1.6k

submit requests here! | masterlist

You cast glances at Fred and George; Fred is on your right, casually examining his nail beds, and George is leaning back into his seat on your left, seeing how far the chair can lean back. George catches you eye and grins, and you smirk right back. You three are waiting for the exact right time to spring on your unknowing victims, Adrian Pucey and Cassius Warrington. During the last Quidditch match, they had ganged up on you to keep you from scoring your fourth goal, which would have put the Gryffindors 30 points ahead.

No one messes with any member of the trio.

Fred and George had immediately chased them with their bats, only stopping when you yelled at them to. Ten points from Slytherin, five points from Gryffindor. No matter, revenge was already brewing.

It was only the next day, but the three of you already had a plan. You weren't even nervous about the possibility of being caught. Having an impressive record of detentions with the twins takes away the novelty of the punishment.

It was ten minutes before the end of class, and you had suggested carrying out this plan towards the end of class to reduce the risk of being suspected.

"On my mark." you muttered under your breath, and Fred and George shifted in their seats.

You tapped the table twice, the signal to pick up your wands and sneak them under the table. In your peripheral vision, you saw ever so observant Lee Jordan smirk as he noticed the movement. You weren't worried; he wouldn't rat. You gave the twins a nod and thought, Melofors!

The was a loud pop!, and in the blink of an eye, Adrian and Cassius's heads were large, bright orange pumpkins, curly stems and all. Professor Flitwick paused, and jumped. Immediately, the class roared with laughter as the two boys whirled around in confusion to look for the culprits, but alas, they forgot that pumpkins cannot see.

You roared in laughter with the rest of the class, pointing at them excitedly and turning to Fred and George who were doubled over laughing, in delight.

Of course, you three being who you are, this wasn't the end of your plan. While everyone was distracted by the pumpkin heads, who were now pulling at the pumpkins, Fred and George muttered, Accio quaffles! Five seconds later, about ten quaffles crashed through the tall window of the classroom and started beating the two Slytherins. The hollow thunks ignited another rough of booming laughter. The poor victims were now standing with their arms raised as they tried to fend off the quaffles. They attempted to run away from their attackers, but in the confusion, ran towards each other. The pumpkins bounced off each other and the boys landed hard on their buttocks.

Desperately, Professor Flitwick pointed his wand at his throat, and squeaked, "Sonorous!" His voice boomed, "CLASS DISMISSED." The students were were still giggling as they gathered their things, and slowly, the classroom emptied out. You, Fred, and George followed suit, but took your time to relish in the sight.

"Boys," Professor Flitwick sighed at Adrian and Cassius, "You two will have to find your ways to the infirmary, I must speak to some students." Then he pointed at your three and ordered, "Stay."

Professor Flitwick patiently waited, hands folded in front of him, for Adrian and Cassius to feel their way out of the classroom, and then raised his eyebrows.

"Quaffles?"

Fred casually started, "I know sir, that was very strange."

"Very strange indeed." George chimed in.

"I think they would have made delicious pies." You couldn't help it. The twins coughed loudly to hide their snickers

The professor spoke. "I was at the game, you know. That event seems... similar to something that happened to Miss y/l/n here." Silence.

Flitwick continued, "In addition, you would be surprised at how much I can see from the front of the classroom."

You remained calm, waiting for the detention that would follow suit.

A pensive look came across Professor Flitwick's face. "I will say, quite a creative prank, you three. And a creative prank warrants a creative punishment..." Fred and George exchanged worried looks but you remained fixated on the professor.

"Yes, yes... I think you three will be recruited to my choir to sing at the welcoming feast for the Triwizard tournament."

"Merlin's saggy tit..." George gasped, realizing what Flitwick was saying.

"Language Mr. Weasley, and oh yes, congratulations to you three, you will be stars!" Fred's clutched his head in dismay, you gasped like you had been shot, and George dropped his bag on his foot.

"Professor Flitwick, please--"

"We'll never prank anyone ever again--"

"Well, at least not in your class--"

"Anything but that--"

The three of you stumbled over each others' words to beg him to consider a different punishment, but Professor Flitwick merely waved his hand and returned to his podium. "I am thoroughly excited to see you three at practice this afternoon. Until then!"

Defeated, you began to sulk out of the classroom when you heard Professor squeak out again.

"And Miss y/l/n?" You slowly turned towards the professor. "Despite everything, I must say -- I am thoroughly impressed. It's not every witch you can cast incantations without muttering a word."

You couldn't help but brighten a bit and turned back to follow the twins out.

--

The rest of the choir whispered excitedly among each other. You gathered behind the side doors of the Great Hall in a line, ready to file onstage in a few moments. However, you, Fred, and George could not join in the excitement; instead, you stood next to each other quietly, the quietest Hogwarts had ever seen you guys. You were listening to the choir being introduced in the Hall and your stomach flip-flopped.

"Alright students, straighten up! It's your time to shine!" Professor Flitwick clapped as the doors to the Great Hall swung open, and as you three passed, flashed each of you a large grin.

As the choir filed onto the steps to create four rows, you heard a Ron burst into laughter, and turned to see that Harry, Hermione, and Ron had shoved their way to spots at the Gryffindor table closest to the front. Hermione was shushing him but not even attempting to contain her smile. Harry was beaming, Lee Jordan was leaning back, pointing and kicking his feet in delight. The rest of the students slowly joined his laughter as they slowly realized who was in front of them. Even the professors had their hands over their mouths to try to conceal their laugher while the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students looked around in confusion.

When Flitwick took his place in front of the choir and raised his baton, everyone hushed, the air electric with excitement.

And then the torture officially began:

Double, double, toil and trouble;Fire burn and cauldron bubble.Double, double, toil and trouble;Something wicked this way comes!

You shrank as much as you could, hoping that you could disappear, and began your solo, so graciously given to you by the professor.

Eye of newt and toe of frog,Wool of bat and tongue of dog,Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,Lizard's leg and owlet's wing.

Even though you were singing as quietly as you could, Flitwick had amplified the choir and your voice still echoed around the Hall. Snickers filled the room as the rest of the choir joined you once more:

Double, double, toil and trouble;Fire burn and cauldron bubble.Double, double, toil and trouble;Something wicked this way comes!

It was Fred and George's turn and they hoarsely sang, trying, like you, to be as quiet as possible, but, like you, they failed.

In the cauldron boil and bake,Fillet of a fenny snake,Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,Witches' mummy, maw and gulf.

The choir joined back for the last chorus, which in reality was only about 15 more seconds, but to you and the blushing twins, it seemed like an eternity.

Finally, finally, the choir dispersed to their respective tables, receiving a thunderous applause that was mainly for the humiliated trio.

When you passed Ron, he jumped up and threw his arms around the twins, mussing their hair. "What a show! What stars! Mother will be so proud when she hears about this! Her ickle singers!" Fred and George threw their little brother off of them while Hermione gave me a sympathetic smile. I noticed her hands continued to applaud loudly. Harry and I made eye contact, which started another round of laughter, and quickly ducked his head.

We slumped down at the table next to Lee and hid our faces in our arms but he continued to point and laugh and the students around us smacked us on our backs in congratulations.

The students from the other schools were feebly laughing, still confused at the ruckus, and the noise died down when Dumbledore rose.

He gestured at Professor Flitwick, who was now seated at the professors' table looking very proud of himself, and in his serene voice, declared, "What a fantastic performance from our lovely choir. And what a lovely surprise from... some unexpected students. It is very difficult to surprise one at this age, yet I find myself --" He peered over his half-moon spectacles at the three of us, cheeks burning red still, "-- pleasantly surprised."

I groaned in agony and flopped backwards into Fred's chest and he dropped his head onto my forehead; George was still holding his face in his hands.

"Now -- a warm welcome to our esteemed guests. Tuck in!"

[jacquitries]

Late Night Delights | M. L.

Mark Lee, the newest Gryffindor prefect, patrolled Hogwarts past curfew to find you baking in the kitchen. As much as he would like to deduct house points and escort you back to your dorms, he can't help but notice how breathtaking you are in the warm light of the fireplace.

𓆘 𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘 𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘 𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘 𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘 Mark has never been one to break the rules. He was punctual, hardworking, and so damn responsible that it came to noone's surprise he was chosen to be the Gryffindor prefect in his fifth year and was actually really good at his job.  

While he was initially only scheduled to patrol the towers every other day, he was recently assigned to the dungeons and kitchens since Yuta, a 6th year Slytherin prefect, had been suspended by Professor Sprout until he can pull his grades up.

On his first night doing Yuta's patrol, he heard a clattering of pots in the kitchen. Knowing fully well that house elves should have finished their work by that time, he braced himself in preparation to confront students who were out passed curfew.

What he didn't expect to see when he opened the door was you whisking away something in a bowl with a few house elves beside you doing the same. While he can only see you from the side, the way the warm light from the fireplace hit your face made you look like the most breathtaking being he has ever seen. 

"Yuta, you're right on time! I think this is my best batter yet!" You exclaimed with glee without looking back to the door. You knew it can only be Yuta to come in since he always came at this time to hang out with you.  

"Uh... I'm not... I'm not Yuta." Mark uttered. 

You whipped your head to check who was by the door. You can see on the stranger's robes that he also has pin to indicate he is a prefect.

"Oh, was he recently reassigned?" You pouted.

Though he has only met you a few minutes ago, seeing you frown somehow already made his heart ache.

"I'm sorry to say he was suspended from his prefect duties until further notice." 

"Oh." You passed the bowl to the house elf beside you as you walked to him.

"Well, if it's alright with you, I'd like to finish baking the last batch of these cookies before I head back to the dungeons?" 

He knew he shouldn't oblige, that he should deduct house points and send you immediately back to your dorm, but the way you looked at him with so much hope made him give in. He sighed. "Okay. Just this once." 

When he saw your face light up with delight, he knew your smile was worth breaking a few rules. 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You squeeled as you ran the last few steps towards him and held his hands in yours.

"You won't regret this. Come, we still have to roll the dough out and bake them!"  

He had no choice to follow you as he tried to contain the blush that appeared on his cheeks all the way down to his neck.  

You both fell in a surprisingly good rhythm of baking cookies and cleaning dishes with bouts of small talk here and there. When the last of the cookies were packaged, you thanked the house elves and walked out of the kitchen with Mark. You shyly handed him one of the cookie packages. "Thank you again for letting me finish the cookies. I... I don't always have trouble sleeping but, when I do, I found baking to be quite helpful. Yuta has been great company but... it was nice to have met you too." 

Mark smiled at that. "It was nice to met you as well and if ever Yuta's suspension doesn't let up anytime soon... it would be my pleasure to accompany you." 

"I'd like that."

Mark has only met you a few times since that incident but the butterflies in his stomach have only gotten stronger and stronger after every night with you. Since the Hogsmeade trip was coming up soon, he thought it would be the perfect time to spend a moment with you out of the confines of the kitchen after curfew. However, he can never seem to bump into you during the day since he's a year older and you have different time schedules. When he does see you, it's during meal times in which you either stay with your friends from the same year or with Yuta and his group. Curious, he asked his best friend, Haechan, if he knows anything about you and Yuta given that you're in the same house.  

Haechan's eyes widened at his question. "Oh, her!? You do not want to even breathe in her direction when Yuta is around."  

That just raised even more questions for him. "What do you mean exactly? Are... are they dating? "  

"While that rumor hasn't been confirmed, any man who has tried to approach her romantically has been jinxed, hexed, and/or cursed by Yuta and that alone speaks volumes." 

Mark's face must have shown exactly what he was feeling because Haechan sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Ah, Mark. The only girl you have ever shown interest in just had to be her. I can't say I blame you since she's practically Slytherin royalty; but trust me when I say Yuta is not considered the King of Charms for nothing." 

"Yeah. I know, I know." Mark said in defeat.

While Mark was too honorable to even think of meddling between you and Yuta, he cherished those nights spent with you in the kitchen. However, as you and Mark baked and packaged the last batch of brownies for the night, it seemed like all good things must come to an end.  

You handed him a package of brownies by the door. It has become your tradition before you each say your goodbyes. "So... Yuta just told me his suspension would be lifted starting tomorrow." 

Mark faltered. "Oh? I had no clue. I... I guess congratulations are in order then." 

"Yes. I'm quite proud of him. Herbology was never his strong suit only because he hates getting dirty." You chuckled. You paused for a few beats before you continued, "He said he missed accompanying me to these baking nights but I've rather grown fond of my new company."  

Mark only felt bittersweet. He wanted to tell you everything — how he has enjoyed every moment spent with you, how he wanted to continue seeing you even after this, how he never felt like this for anyone before, and how he we was in love with you. Alas, he knew you would never leave Yuta's side for someone like him, so he kept his confession to himself. "Well, it was a pleasure to have baked with you while he was away." After a few moments, he added in a whisper, "So, this is goodbye then?"  

You looked down on the floor as you played with your sweater. While you weren't expecting your feelings to be returned, you had hoped that he would at least want to continue the friendship you have built. "Yes, I... I believe so. Goodbye, Mark Lee." 

"Goodbye to you too."     

Mark woke up with a heavy feeling in his chest the next day and the days after that. He barely paid attention to any of his classes that week since he was still hopelessly pining on a certain Slytherin. Though he would have loved nothing more to see you again, he decided it would be best to avoid you at all costs to provide a clean break. 

Just when he thought things could not get any worse, Yuta decided to accost him as he was trudging back to the dorm after lunch.

Yuta growled at Mark as he slammed him against the wall. "Give me one reason I shouldn't curse you into oblivion for what you have done to her." 

Mark had no clue what he was on about since he hasn't seen you for over a week. "I- I don't know what you are talking about, Yuta. I haven't done anything to her at all."  

Yuta took out his wand from his pocket and pointed it at Mark's neck in a flash. "Don't play dumb with me, you bastard. I only allowed you to continue your little rendezvous with her in the kitchens because if the great Mark Lee decided to finally break a few rules for her, then that must mean something, right? If that wasn't enough to convince me, then seeing the way you look at her in the Great Hall like she hung up the moon would have been more than enough evidence you were serious about her; come for me to find out you ceased all communication with her since last week. Was it because she wasn't anymore convenient for you? Because you think she's not worth your effort? Because you think she's not worth your time—"

"No, no, no! I'll never think that way about her. She's worth all the magic in the world if it means I get to spend even one more moment with her." Mark couldn't bear to hear what else Yuta was about to say. He was confused to say the least. Haechan more or less confirmed that you and Yuta were in a relationship. So why would Yuta even allow you to see someone else other than him?

"Then. Why. Did. You. Stop. Talking. To. Her." Yuta was already losing his patience.

"I- I didn't want to meddle in your relationship! I may be in love with her but I would never wreck her relationship with you for my benefit."

Yuta was taken aback. Surely, he couldn't be that idiotic? "What the bloody hell are you talking about, Lee?"

Mark sighed. "I love her, Yuta. I don't think I'd feel this way about anyone ever again but I would never come in between an established relationship. The guilt will eat me up."

Out of all the things Mark expected Yuta to do, maniacally laughing was not one of them. "You think I'm dating her? Ah, Mark Lee! I became fully convinced you were a bastard that I didn't even think you could have just been a bloody idiot!"

Mark just stared at him with confusion. "I don't quite follow."

"I have no idea how you got that conclusion but let me spell it out for you, Lee. I will never ever date her because... she's my half-sister."

A whole array of emotions skittered across Mark's face — shock, understanding, hope, then dread. He paled. "I believe I have made a terrible mistake."

Yuta can't help but snort. "That you did, idiot."

"I need to find her."

"She's at the courtyard now with her friends."

Mark didn't even let him finish his sentence before he took off.

"Oh. And Mark?" Yuta called. Mark stopped in his tracks to look back. "Hurt her like that again and I won't be so forgiving."

Mark nodded. "I won't be so forgiving to myself too."

Fate was on Mark's side as he found you exactly where Yuta said you would be. He didn't even try to slow down and school his features as he approached you.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... Yuta just... Yuta just talked to me... Please allow... allow me to explain." He panted.

You internally sighed. Of course Yuta would be his overprotective self. You wordlessly excused yourself from your friends and let him walk with you aimlessly around Hogwarts.

After a few minutes of allowing him to compose himself, you stopped by the bridge  and leaned your back on the railings. "Well, go on."

Mark took a deep breath. It was now or never. "I wanted to apologize for the way I acted after that night. I need you to know it wasn't, and will never be, my intention to hurt you. You see, ever since I caught you on my first round of Yuta's patrol duty, I have only fallen harder and harder for you. You are the only one who can make my heart both soar with happiness yet ache with longing anytime if I so much as think of you during the day. I would have never thought in all of eternity that you would feel even remotely the same way I felt about you; but every time you direct one of your kilowatt smiles to me, let your soft touches linger on my skin, or look at me like I'm the most interesting person in the world, I couldn't help but hope that maybe I did have a chance to be by your side. However, I never acted upon my feelings, respectfully kept a distance, and even said my goodbyes because I foolishly thought you were dating Yuta and wanted nothing more to do with me. I know now how utterly wrong I was after he confronted me just a few moments ago. While I don't expect you to forgive me anytime soon, I beg of you to at least allow me to make it up to you until you have; and once you have forgiven me, I'd like to properly court you until you find me worthy enough to stand by your side."

You allowed the silence to blanket the two of you as you take his words into heart. After a few minutes of stirring with what he said, you let your actions take control as you knew words wouldn't be enough to express how you felt. You slowly took the last few steps towards him and caressed his cheek. He instinctively closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. You placed your fingers to the back of his neck and guided him forward. Before he knew it, you gently placed your lips on his. He only froze for a moment before he quickly recovered to place his arms around your waist and deepen the kiss. It was slow and languid and oh, so perfect with the both of you knowing it was only the first of many.

You pulled back just enough to let your words breathe unto his lips. "You can start making it up to me by taking me to Hogsmeade this weekend if you'd like."

You felt the ghost of his smile on your lips. "Anything for you, my love."

[hyuckiefluff]

Flipped Pt. 2 | Mark Lee

pairing: gryffindor!mark lee x slytherin!fem.reader genre: smut summary: the first time you met mark lee, you flipped his world upside down— literally. seven years later and after countless attempts to avoid you, you're still driving him insane. except now, it’s for an entirely different reason. wc: 6.3k+ cw: explicit content, cursing, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, semi-public sexual acts, oral (fem receiving) a/n: hi!! this is a continuation to my hogwarts au, so please read part one before checking this out <3 I originally wasn't even planning on adding any smut to this fic, and I think it works well without it, but still, a little smut is always a good bonus so here it is! enjoy!

By the time your seventh year rolled around, you and Mark felt like two halves of the same whole. You spent nearly every possible hour together and most of it was sweet and wholesome. He’d sit with you in the greenhouse while you tended to your plants, pretending to be helpful but mostly just watching you with this lovesick look on his face. Or sitting beside you in the library when you worked on assignments, though he hardly ever got any studying done himself. Or at the Quidditch games, where he’d celebrate his wins by flying over the stands and swooping down to kiss you.

But there were also the other moments. The ones where you simply couldn’t keep your hands off each other. Most of your prefect shifts ended in heated makeout sessions behind the statue of the one eyed witch on the third floor. Or tucked away in the Astronomy Tower when everyone else was asleep. Or in the dark staircase leading to the dungeons, pressed against the cold stone wall with his hands roaming your waist and your fingers tangled in his hair. You two found a way to use any place that offered even a little privacy.

And it was getting harder and harder to stop once you started.

You could feel the way his kisses were getting hungrier. Like that time when his hands slid under your robes during Charms class. Or the time in the greenhouse when he kissed you so deeply his knee had ended up between your legs, and you’d gasped, clutching at his robes before hastily pulling away.

And last time things almost went too far.

You’d been tucked in a hidden alcove near the Transfiguration classroom, his back against the stone wall, your body pressed firmly against his as his mouth moved feverishly against yours. His hand had slipped beneath your robes, skimming up your thigh, and before you even realized it, he was fumbling with the buttons of your uniform. His breath was heavy, and you could feel how badly he wanted you, his hands trembling slightly as he tugged at your clothes.

“Wait—” you gasped, grabbing his wrist.

Mark froze immediately, his face paling like he’d done something horribly wrong. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to” he pulled his hands back “I wasn’t trying to push you or—”

“No, it’s not—” you swallowed hard, trying to ignore the heat still simmering in your stomach. “It’s not that I don’t want to… I do. It’s just…”

Mark watched you carefully, still looking wrecked with guilt. “…Just what?”

You bit your lip. “I don’t… I don’t have any experience with this. I’ve never…I mean, I’ve kissed people before but not like… that. Or… y-you know.”

It took Mark a moment to process what you were saying. Then his face softened immediately, his brows knitting with so much tenderness it almost made you cry.

“Hey, that’s okay” he breathed, pulling you closer again but gentler this time. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

You felt your face burn. “I don’t know… I guess I was embarrassed. I thought you’d expect me to…”

“I don’t,” Mark cut you off gently, his thumb stroking your cheek. “I swear. I don’t expect anything from you, Y/N. I just… I get carried away sometimes because I really, really like you. But you can tell me to stop anytime, okay?”

“Really?”

“Really,” he promised. Then he nudged your nose with his, grinning cheekily. “Besides… I think it’s kinda cute you’ve never done any of that before.”

You swatted his arm, groaning. “Oh my god, Mark.”

He just laughed, pulling you back in for another kiss.

Later that night, you were curled up in the common room with Karina when the question came bursting out of you like word vomit.

“How does sex feel like?”

Karina choked on her pumpkin juice, coughing violently as her eyes practically popped out of her skull.

“I’m sorry— what?” she spluttered, whipping her head toward you like you’d just grown a second head.

“Like… is it painful at first?” you pressed on, your face heating up. “I imagine it is. It probably depends on the… y’know… size. I mean, I read about it in a Muggle book back home but it was mostly about conception, not really the experience itself, so I—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold it.” Karina held up a hand, looking half-horrified and half-amused. “Where is this coming from… Since when are you so curious about sex?”

“Rina, I’m seventeen.... almost eighteen. It’s perfectly normal for me to start being curious about these things.”

“Oh, so it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you spend every free period snogging the Gryffindor Seeker?”

“Keep your voice down!” you hissed, glancing around the room.

“What?” Karina giggled. “It’s not like everyone doesn’t already know. I think half the school’s caught you guys in the corridors by now”

You groaned loudly, covering your burning face with your hands. “Forget I ever asked.”

“Oh no, no, no. You can’t just drop a bomb like that and then back out—”

Before you could beg her to drop it, Haechan strolled into the common room in his Quidditch uniform, hair damp with sweat, looking like he’d just finished practice. His eyes immediately landed on the two of you  and of course, he caught the tail end of Karina’s cackling.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, flopping onto the couch next to you.

Karina turned to him, grinning like the devil. “Oh, nothing. Our sweet, innocent little Y/N here just wants to know what sex feels like.”

“Karina!” you shrieked, whipping around to glare at her as she howled with laughter.

Haechan’s jaw dropped. “WHAT?” He turned to you, scandalized. “You—? You wanna know about... holy shit…”

“Oh my God, stop,” you groaned.

Haechan’s face split into a wicked grin. “Ohhh, I’m so telling him you’re asking about this—”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Why not? I think he’d love to know that his girlfriend’s getting all hot and bothered thinking about—”

“Haechan!”

“I’m kidding!” he laughed, hands raised in surrender. “But seriously. What exactly do you wanna know, huh? Like… the logistics of it? Or do you just wanna know if Mark’s packing—”

You lunged at him with the pillow. “I swear...”

“Alright, alright!” he howled, practically collapsing onto the floor in laughter as you rained down pillow smacks. “I’m just saying, if you want details, I’m right here—”

“Absolutely not.”

Haechan, despite his teasing and borderline inappropriate comments, was surprisingly chill about Mark and you. You had made it clear months ago that you had no romantic feelings for him. He’d taken it well, saying he saw it coming, and from that moment on, he treated you just like he would anyone else. He even became close friends with Mark, realizing he had more things in common with the seeker than he initially thought.

Karina, still crying from laughter, gasped, “Oh my God, you should ask Mark yourself. See how he reacts.”

You froze, mortified. “Are you insane? I’m not asking Mark what sex feels like!”

“Why not?” Haechan snickered, finally pulling himself back onto the couch. “It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it already. Honestly, I’m shocked you two haven’t done it yet, considering how often we catch you practically shagging in the corridors.”

“We do not!”

“Oh, please,” he scoffed. “You two make the entire school feel single.”

You groaned, absolutely done with this conversation. “I hate both of you.”

“But seriously. If you’re curious, just… talk to him about it. He’ll probably combust on the spot, but he’ll definitely be honest with you.” Karina suggested.

You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling a little hot under the collar.

…Yeah. Like that conversation wouldn’t end with you both tearing each other’s clothes off.

Mark was in the Gryffindor locker room, gulping down water after finishing practice, when Peeves suddenly popped up right in front of him with a loud "Boo!"

He flinched, nearly choking on his water and dropping the bottle to the floor.

“Peeves, what the hell!” Mark coughed, clutching his chest as the poltergeist erupted into a fit of maniacal laughter, floating circles around him.

“What do you want?” Mark huffed, yanking off his gloves. He was the last one in the locker room since he stayed behind to practice a little longer for the upcoming match.

“Ooh, Peeves has a message for you! A juicy little message about your pretty girl!” Peeves sing-songed, grinning mischievously.

Mark froze mid-motion. “Y/N? What about her?”

“She’s in the prefect’s bathroom right now, calling out for you!” Peeves giggled.

Mark furrowed his brows, confused. “Why would she be looking for me there? I’m not a prefect, I can’t even go in there.”

Peeves simply shrugged dramatically, floating upside down. “Peeves is just telling you what Peeves saw! Go, don’t go, who cares! But your pretty girl seemed awfully eager to see you…” he teased before disappearing with a loud pop.

Mark stood there for a second, his heart suddenly hammering. Were you really asking for him in the prefect’s bathroom? That made no sense. But if Peeves was telling the truth… 

“Shit,” Mark muttered, quickly tossing his gloves aside and hurrying out of the locker room.

He knew Peeves wasn’t exactly known for being helpful, but what if this time he was actually being serious? Mark’s gut twisted at the thought of you upset or needing him for something.

When he reached the entrance to the prefect bathroom, he hesitated. He wasn’t supposed to be here— it was strictly for prefects and Quidditch captains— but he couldn't just walk away if you were inside asking for him. With a deep breath, he gripped the handle and pushed… but the door didn’t budge.

Mark cursed under his breath. Of course, there was a password.

He racked his brain, trying to remember if you’d ever mentioned it. But you’d never told him the password. Why would you? He wasn’t a prefect, so he had no business knowing it.

“Think, think, think,” Mark muttered to himself, glancing up and down the corridor to make sure no one was around to catch him. Then he remembered that Jaehyun, the Gryffindor team captain, also had access to the bathroom. Mark recalled how he had once bragged about how nice it was, especially with the giant bath and fancy soaps. He’d also, at some point, mentioned the password in passing. What was it again? Pine something…?

“Pinewood?” Mark tried hesitantly, his wand out.

Nothing.

He groaned and ran a hand through his damp hair, his nerves bubbling up again. Peeves had said you were in there looking for him. What if you were hurt or crying, and he was just standing out here like an idiot?

“Pineapple? No, that’s stupid. Pine scent?” Mark paced in front of the door, feeling his frustration rise. He was about to give up when it finally hit him.

“Pine Fresh,” Mark said, his wand raised with more confidence this time.

A soft click echoed from the door, and Mark felt it give under his touch. His heart thudded in his chest as he pushed it open and stepped inside. The room was warm and steamy, the faint smell of soap and fresh water filling the air. Massive white marble walls surrounded a pool-sized bathtub filled with shimmering water.

“Y/N?” he called out, his voice echoing slightly.

Silence.

Mark’s brows furrowed. His stomach sank. The room looked empty like you’d never been here at all. His gut twisted as he realized Peeves’d probably just duped him. That little poltergeist lived for messing with students, and Mark had fallen for it like an idiot. He was about to turn and leave when—

“Mark?”

His head snapped around, his heart leaping to his throat.

You were there.

You were sitting against one of the walls, your legs curled up to your chest, looking small and anxious. Your face was a little flushed, though Mark wasn’t sure if it was from the steam in the room or something else. The second you locked eyes with him, relief flooded your features.

“Oh my god, you are here,” you breathed. You scrambled to stand, your socks slipping slightly on the wet tiles as you rushed toward him.

“Wait, wha... what’s going on? Are you okay?” Mark asked quickly, meeting you halfway. His hands instinctively went to your arms, his concern spiking when he realized how clammy your skin felt. “Why did Peeves say you were asking for me?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it, your teeth catching your bottom lip nervously. Mark watched as your gaze darted around the room like you were trying to muster up the courage to speak.

“I…” You swallowed thickly. “I didn’t actually ask for you. I mean... not out loud. I just- I was in here thinking and I really, really wanted you here. And then Peeves showed up and I think he just… I don’t know, sensed it or something and—”

Mark’s stomach did a little flip. You were thinking about him so intensely that Peeves picked up on it?

“Wait, wait.... slow down,” Mark said gently, his thumbs rubbing circles on your arms. “Why did you want me here? What’s wrong?”

You squeezed your eyes shut for a second, you almost looked embarrassed. “I… I need to talk to you about something. I didn’t know how to say it and I—”

“Hey, hey,” Mark interrupted softly, his hand tilting your chin to look at him. “It’s okay. I’m here"

You took a shaky breath, and then  “I want to do it.”

Mark blinked. “…Do what?”

Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you averted your gaze, suddenly looking incredibly nervous. “Hey, it’s okay. Just tell me,” he urged softly.

You swallowed hard, your eyes flickering back up to his wide, shiny, and filled with something he couldn’t quite place. But it stole the breath straight out of his lungs. Suddenly, you rose onto your tiptoes and kissed him.

It wasn’t like your usual kisses. It was deep and desperate, your fingers curling into the fabric of his Quidditch robes tightly. Mark instantly kissed you back, his hand cupping the back of your neck to keep you there. But just as his head started to spin from how good it felt, you broke away and before he could even ask what was going on, you blurted it out.

“I want to have sex with you, Mark.”

He felt his entire body stiffen as his eyes snapped open, sure he had misheard you or that you were joking, or that Peeves had somehow cursed his ears. But the look on your face was anything but playful.

You were serious.

“W-what?” Mark croaked, his voice cracking embarrassingly.

Your face flushed, but you didn’t back down. You held his wide-eyed gaze, your hands now clenching into fists at your sides. “I… I’ve been thinking about it for a while. And I know we’ve never really talked about it or anything, but I just—” You swallowed hard. “I want you. I really want you.”

Mark’s brain was malfunctioning. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again like a complete idiot. “You mean like… like now?” he stammered, his voice embarrassingly high.

“I mean if you want to,” you rushed out. “We don’t have to. I just… I don’t know. I thought about it and then I couldn’t stop thinking about it and… and I didn’t know how to bring it up so I just—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Mark interrupted, his hands shooting up like he was trying to slow down time itself. His pulse was roaring in his ears. “You seriously, like, actually want to…?”

“Have sex with you?” you finished bluntly, your voice small but certain. “Yes.”

Mark swore he nearly passed out.

“Oh my god,” he wheezed, running a hand down his face. “Are you…I mean, not that I don’t want to, but are you sure?”

“Yes,” you said quickly, your voice shaking a little. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life, Mark. I just… I think about you all the time. And not just like—” You gestured wildly, your face burning. “not just like normal thinking about you. I mean like thinking about you. Like in ways that make me—”

Mark made a strangled noise in his throat. “Holy fuck.”

You groaned, covering your face in embarrassment. “Oh my god, this is so humiliating”

“No, no! It’s not! It’s hot,” Mark blurted without thinking. “I mean… it’s not embarrassing. Like at all. I’m just... wow.” He paced back a step like he was trying to physically process this information. “You’ve been thinking about it?”

“Yes,” you practically cried. “For months.”

Mark clutched his chest. “Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“So you… you’d want to?” you asked quietly, watching him carefully.

Mark let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-disbelieving wheeze. “Angel, if I knew you’ve been wanting this for months we would’ve done it a million times by now.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait, really?”

“Are you kidding me?” Mark choked. His face was practically glowing red now. “I’ve been... I’ve wanted you like that since forever. I just didn’t want to push you or make you uncomfortable or— oh my god.” His hands flew to his hair like he was about to rip it out. “You actually want to?”

“Yes, Mark!” you laughed, still flushed. “I literally just said that.”

“And you mean like right now?”

You hesitated for half a second, then took a deep, shaky breath. “If you want to.”

Mark stared at you. Then his gaze dropped to your lips, and then lower, and then—

“Holy shit.”

And then he was kissing you again. Harder, more desperate, like the floodgates had finally burst open and he couldn’t get enough. His hands found your waist, gripping you tight as he walked you backward until the small of your back hit the marble edge of the enormous bathtub. You gasped into his mouth, and Mark swallowed the sound like he was starved for it.

“You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this,” he groaned between kisses. His fingers splayed against your waist, digging in like he was trying to anchor himself. “Like, stupid thoughts.... Constantly. Every time we’re alone together I just—”

“Me too,” you panted, tugging his sweater up slightly so you could touch his skin. “Every time you so much as look at me, I just... god, Mark.”

“Fuck,” Mark cursed, his teeth catching your bottom lip as he kissed you even deeper. “You’re gonna kill me.”

And Merlin help him—he was ready to let you.

Mark yanked your robes off in one swift motion, his touch eager but careful, like he was still trying to convince himself this was real. Your vest followed just as quickly, and when his fingers made quick work of the buttons on your shirt, you had to bite your lip to keep from gasping. He was so quick like he knew what he was doing, and for a fleeting, horrible moment, you wondered how many times he’d done this before. 

...Had he done it with Mia?

Your stomach dropped and you squeezed your eyes shut, willing the thought away. Not now. You were not about to ruin this for yourself by thinking about that. Not when Mark was kissing you like his life depended on it, not when his hands were brushing over your skin like he needed to touch you.

And Merlin, his mouth felt so good. Soft and warm, his tongue curling against yours as his hands ghosted over your waist. Your shirt was completely open now, hanging loosely off your shoulders, and you barely had a second to feel self-conscious before Mark was already tugging it off.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips, his voice strained. “You’re so—” His words trailed off into a low exhale as he pulled back just enough to look at you. His pupils were blown wide, his gaze devouring every inch of exposed skin.

Heat rushed to your face. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Mark asked, his voice rough.

“Like you’ve never seen a girl in a bra before.” You tried to sound playful, but your heart was pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it.

Mark let out a breathless laugh, his hands finding your waist. “I haven’t. Not like this. Not you.”

Oh.

Your stomach flipped violently.

You didn’t have time to dwell on it because you were already tugging at his uniform, desperate to get him equally undressed. His Quidditch robes were a nightmare to get off, heavy and tangled around his feet, and you couldn’t help but giggle when he nearly tripped trying to kick them off.

“Sorry— sorry, fuck,” Mark laughed breathlessly, finally ripping the damn thing off and tossing it aside. His sweater followed, and then you were tugging at his tie, trying to loosen it enough to get it over his head.

“Why is your uniform so complicated?” you grumbled, your hands fumbling.

“Tell me about it,” Mark huffed, yanking the tie off himself and tossing it somewhere behind him. You barely had a second to catch your breath before his hands were on your waist again, pulling you flush against his bare chest.

And oh my god.

Your mouth ran dry. His skin was burning hot, still slightly damp from Quidditch practice, and his lean frame was ridiculous. The toned muscles of his stomach, the sharp lines of his collarbones, the veins running down his forearms. You couldn’t stop staring.

“Holy shit,” you breathed without thinking.

Mark blinked. “…What?”

“You’re, like… really fit,” you admitted, your face heating up.

Mark stared at you for half a second, and then he laughed a nervous, slightly disbelieving sound. “What? No, I’m not—”

“Mark,” you cut him off, your eyes still glued to his chest. “Yes, you are. Do you even realize how many girls at Hogwarts talk about you?”

He looked scandalized. “What?”

You laughed, your hands running over his sides just to feel him. “I’m serious ‘Hot Seeker Mark Lee.’”

Mark actually choked. “Stop— what the fuck”

“You think I’m joking?” you teased, loving how red his face was getting. “Girls love you.”

Mark groaned, his head dropping forward to rest against your shoulder. “Oh my god, stop. I’m literally trying to hold back right now and you’re—”

“Hold back?” you laughed breathlessly. “Why?”

He lifted his head, and the look on his face was almost pained. His gaze dropped to your chest, to the lacy black bra you hadn’t exactly planned for him to see, and then back to your face. “Because if I don’t, I’m gonna, like—” He swallowed hard. “I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”

Heat flared in your stomach.

“Then lose it,” you whispered against his lips.

The second the words left your mouth he crashed his lips back to yours, messier this time. His hands gripped your waist and he pushed you even closer. Your legs instantly parted to make room for him, and he stepped between them, pressing his erection against your core.

“Mark,” you gasped, your brain short-circuiting. “Your pants—”

“Oh, right” Mark breathed, realizing he was still half-dressed. His hands fumbled with his belt, but his fingers were clumsy from how badly he was shaking. “Fuck, can you—?”

“Yeah, I got it,” you said quickly, reaching down to unbuckle it yourself. Your hands brushed against the prominent bulge in his pants, and Mark whimpered. 

You froze. “Did you just...?”

“Don’t,” Mark groaned, his head dropping onto your shoulder again. “I’m barely hanging on right now, please don’t.”

You bit back a laugh. “You’re so cute.”

“Agh, stop laughing” Mark whined, his face burning.

“Sorry, sorry,” you giggled, finally managing to unfasten his belt and push his pants down his legs. They pooled around his ankles, and Mark practically kicked them off in desperation. Now you were both down to your underwear, and the sight of the outline of his arousal straining against his boxers made your mouth water.

And apparently, Mark was having the same reaction because his eyes were glued to you. His chest heaved, his jaw slack, his gaze devouring every inch of bare skin like he couldn’t believe it was in front of him.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his voice wrecked. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

Your smiled shyly. “You think so?”

“Do I think so?” He exhaled sharply, his hands skimming over your bare thighs. “Angel, I’ve literally had dreams about you. Fantasies. Every time I see you in those stupid little skirts—” He broke off, his hands gripping your waist tighter and pushing you impossibly closer.

Mark’s gaze snapped to yours, and you swore his pupils somehow dilated even more.

“Can I touch you?” you both blurted at the same time, and then immediately burst into breathless laughter.

“Jesus—” Mark groaned, his head dropping as he laughed. “We’re such losers.”

“Losers who are about to have sex,” you reminded him, grinning.

Mark laughed harder, but his amusement quickly dissolved into something primal when his hands slid up your thighs again, fingertips skimming dangerously high.

“…Please,” you breathed, your voice barely audible.

Mark’s hands were shaking slightly as he tugged at your panties. Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt him start to pull them down, and for a moment, you almost closed your legs instinctively, but his gaze was full of a hunger and a kind of desperate focus that made you feel weak in the knees.

He paused for a second, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, I promise, pretty girl,” he whispered, the words low and heavy.

You felt your pulse quicken at his words, the rush of heat between your thighs making everything feel too much, but all you could do was nod. You had no idea what you were doing, but the need to have him all over you was enough to make you forget any uncertainty.

With one last look to make sure you were okay with this, he dropped to his knees and dove between your thighs. You gasped, your legs trembling as his tongue licked a long, clean stripe up your already wet core. It felt too good, too overwhelming, and your hands scrambled to grip at his hair as his mouth moved over you, sucking on your clit with a fervor that made your eyes roll back in your head.

“Oh my God, Mark,” you moaned, your body involuntarily trying to press closer to him. Hehummed against you, his hands caressing your thighs.

His mouth wasn’t slowing, even when your thighs tried to squeeze around him. Every flick of his tongue made you feel like you were floating and falling all at once. You couldn’t help the moans that kept escaping you, the tightness in your stomach that was building up with each second.

Your breathing was erratic, and your body was trembling from the pleasure, all you could think about was how badly you needed him—how badly you needed to feel more of him.

“Mark… please,” you whimpered, but you didn’t need to say anything more. He knew exactly what you wanted.

His hands gripped your thighs tighter as his tongue continued its delicious work. You were already so close, your body coiling tighter and tighter with each second.

The pleasure built slowly at first, a steady, insistent warmth curling in the pit of your stomach. It coiled tighter and tighter with every flick of Mark’s tongue, every soft hum that vibrated against you. Your fingers clutched at his hair, unsure whether you wanted to push him away or pull him closer.

It was too much, too intense, and yet you couldn’t stop chasing it. The sensation crackled through you like static, lighting up every nerve in your body, making your breaths come in short, desperate gasps.

Then—something inside you snapped.

Your body tensed, your legs trembling as a strangled moan tore from your lips. You had never felt anything like this before—like you were shattering and unraveling all at once, floating somewhere between pleasure and something dangerously close to madness.

Mark didn’t stop. He kept his mouth on you and his hands firm on your thighs while you trembled through the aftershocks. Your body twitched, hypersensitive. He only pulled back when you gasped out his name in a broken plea. His lips were glistening, his eyes blown wide with awe and the sight was almost sinful.

You pulled him to you, crashing your lips against his, tasting yourself on his tongue. He groaned into your mouth, his hands kneading the flesh of your ass, pulling you impossibly closer. It wasn’t until you felt him—hot, heavy, bare against you—that you realized at some point his boxers had come off too.

The realization made your breath hitch, and when you pulled back slightly to look down, your stomach clenched.

Oh.

You’d never seen him naked like this before. You’d imagined it, sure, but now that he was here completely bare in front of you, flushed from head to toe, his cock hard and pressing against your slick folds; you felt a different kind of heat spread through you. He was beautiful. And big. Your throat went dry, your fingers twitching against his shoulders.

Mark must have noticed your sudden hesitation because he stilled, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath ragged. “You okay?” he murmured, his voice rough but gentle.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. His pupils were blown, his lips swollen, but there was something tender in the way he was looking at you—patient, waiting.

“I just…” You exhaled a shaky breath, fingers drifting tentatively down his torso, feeling the hard planes of his stomach. “You’re… um.” You bit your lip, heat flooding your cheeks.

Mark let out a breathless laugh, his hands smoothing over your waist. “Yeah?” His lips brushed the corner of your mouth, teasing. “What about me?”

You swallowed again, your eyes flickering back down. “You’re just… bigger than I thought.” The words tumbled out before you could stop them, and as soon as you realized what you’d said, you squeezed your eyes shut in mortification.

Mark choked out a laugh, his head dropping against your shoulder. “Jesus, Y/N,” he groaned, his hands flexing on your hips. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Ugh... sorry” You buried your face in his neck, burning from the inside out, but you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling.

Mark pulled back slightly, tipping your chin up so you’d look at him again. His expression had softened, though his eyes still burned with desire. “You’re sure you still want this?” he asked, thumb brushing your cheek.

You took a deep breath, letting yourself take in the sight of him again—his flushed skin, the way he was holding himself back, the way he was looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

You nodded, heart pounding. “I want you, Mark.”

That was all it took.

Mark groaned, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His hands guided your hips, and you felt him rut against you, his cock sliding against your slick folds. The contact alone made you gasp into his mouth, your fingers gripping his shoulders.

“Fuck, baby…” he groaned, his voice breaking as he fought to keep himself together. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, pulling a whimper from you, and he swallowed it like he was starving for more of you.

Your head was spinning and your body was still sensitive from your first orgasm, but the ache for all of him only grew more unbearable.

“Please, Mark… I need you,” you begged, your fingers gripping his biceps.

Mark squeezed his eyes shut trying to control himself, keeping in mind that you’d never done this before and he needed to be careful. But the way you were pleading for him made it nearly impossible.

“Shit—okay, okay, angel,” he promised, his voice cracking under the weight of his need. His hand slid between you, gripping himself at the base, and you gasped when you felt the hot, blunt tip press right against your entrance.

His breath caught. “Tell me if it’s too much, okay?”

You nodded quickly, your chest heaving. “I will… just—please—”

And then he pushed in, slowly, carefully, like he was afraid you might break. The stretch burned, a sharp sting that made your breath hitch and your nails dig into his shoulders, but you didn’t ask him to stop. Mark’s face contorted, his brows furrowed like he was in pain just trying to hold himself back.

“Fuck…you’re so tight,” he gasped, his head dropping to your shoulder as he pushed in a little more. Your walls clenched around him involuntarily, and his whole body shuddered. “God, Y/N—”

“You’re so big, Mark,” you whimpered, your thighs shaking as you tried to adjust to the overwhelming stretch.

“Angel, you’re doing so good,” Mark gritted out, his voice strained as he stilled inside you, trying to give you time to adjust. His fingers were digging into your waist like he was using all his strength to not start pounding into you. “Just tell me when, okay? I don’t wanna hurt you.”

You sucked in a shaky breath, your body slowly accommodating him. The sting soon melted into a dull ache, and the pleasure started creeping in. You rolled your hips experimentally, and the friction made you both groan. 

“I’m okay,” you breathed, your voice shaky but sure. “You can move.”

Mark let out the most wrecked sound you’d ever heard and then he did. He pulled out just a little before sinking back in, the drag of his thick length against your walls making you throw your head back against the tile. 

“Holy fuck,” Mark rasped, his grip on your ass tightening as he thrust into you again, a little deeper this time. “You feel so…so fucking good” 

The pace he started was slow but there was no mistaking the sheer desperation in his touch. And you were losing your mind. Every stroke made you gasp, the head of his cock brushing places you didn’t even know could feel that good, and the tension in your core was already building again. 

“Mark, faster...please,” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck. The ache had turned into pure bliss now, and you needed more of him. 

“Fuck…yeah, okay—” Mark practically growled, and his pace quickened, his thrusts becoming rougher. His hand slid between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit.

Your body jerked in reaction, your walls clenching down around him so tight it made his hips stutter. 

“Shit… do that again, baby. Please—” Mark begged, his voice cracking as he pounded into you harder. The sound of skin slapping filled the steamy bathroom, mixed with the high-pitched whines leaving your throat and the desperate grunts coming from Mark.

Your nails raked down his back and he hissed. “Mark… I’m—oh my god—I’m gonna—”

“Cum for me, angel,” Mark growled, his thumb rubbing harsh circles on your clit, his thrusts losing rhythm. “Please—fuck—I need to feel you cum on my cock.”

And that was it. Your body tensed as the coil in your stomach snapped again. You sobbed his name, your walls clenching down so hard around him it made his hips falter. Mark cursed loudly, his thrusts growing erratic before he finally stilled inside you, his whole body shaking as his own orgasm ripped through him. 

“Fuckfuckfuck—” he gasped, his face buried in your neck as he came hard, his fingers bruising your hips as he emptied himself inside you. 

For a moment, the only sound in the room was your ragged breathing and the distant hum of the castle. Mark stayed inside you, his arms still trembling as he held you against him. 

“You okay?” he finally rasped, his voice hoarse and breathless. 

You managed a soft, blissed-out laugh. “I think… that was the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Mark pulled back just enough to look at you, his flushed face breaking into a dazed grin. “Yeah? That good?

You leaned up and kissed him softly, smiling into his lips. “I don’t think I can get enough.” 

And Mark laughed, his nose nudging yours as he kissed you again. “Fuck… me neither.”

The train wheezed as it prepared to depart, and you and Mark stumbled onto the platform, both breathless and disheveled from sprinting to catch it in time.

Your hand was still clutching Mark’s as you tried to straighten out your clothes. Your skirt was askew, your shirt half tucked in, and your hair a mess from the rushed… activities prior. Mark didn’t look any better, his tie crooked, his shirt rumpled, and his hair sticking up in odd directions.

“What were you two freaks doing?” Haechan called through the open window as you approached. Karina was beside him, smirking like she already knew the answer.

“Um…” you fumbled, glancing at Mark for backup. “I forgot my… uh… thing, and Mark was helping me find it,” you stammered, tugging at the hem of your skirt in a poor attempt to look composed.

Haechan scoffed. “Right. And I’m the bloody Minister of Magic.”

“Right,” Karina snorted, her eyes narrowing with amusement. “So you’re telling me you two weren’t shagging in the empty dorms while everyone was on the train?”

“What?” Mark drawled, trying to sound appalled but his voice cracked halfway through. “That’s… ridiculous. Do you really think we’re capable of such.. depravity?” 

You bit your bottom lip to keep from laughing, but the little grin trying to peek through made it impossible to sell your innocence.

“Mate, your shirt is literally on backwards,” Haechan deadpanned, pointing at Mark’s disastrous state. “Just get on the train, you bloody nymphos.”

Your face burned, but you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. Mark, always quick with his mouth, gestured wildly. “This is a gross violation of our characters, honestly.”

“Yeah, yeah, get in before we leave you,” Karina waved dismissively, biting back a laugh of her own. “And fix your clothes, lover boy.”

Mark squeezed your hand, grinning like an idiot as he led you onto the train. The two of you practically collapsed into the first empty compartment you found, still a little breathless, and when you finally caught your reflection in the window, you burst out laughing.

“God, we look a mess,” you giggled, trying to smooth down your hair.

Mark plopped down next to you, his head falling back against the seat.

“Worth it though,” he mumbled, a small smile playing on his lips.

He turned his head to look at you, his soft brown eyes melting with affection as he took in your flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and hair still a mess from his fingers. His chest tightened with the overwhelming urge to kiss you again, but he just smiled instead. “So worth it.”

The train began to move, and you turned your head toward the window. The castle was still visible in the distance, and your heart clenched at the sight of it shrinking away. 

You felt Mark watching you, his thumb brushing absentmindedly over the back of your hand. “You okay?” he asked softly.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded. “Yeah. It’s just… hard, you know?”

Mark’s gaze flicked to the window, watching the last of the castle towers disappear from view. “Yeah… it really is.”

For a moment, you let yourself mourn it— the end of an era, the end of childhood, the end of the place that had been your entire world. But then you felt Mark squeeze your hand, and when you turned to look at him, he was already smiling softly at you.

“But hey,” he said, nudging you gently. “It’s not really the end, we’ve got plans, remember? Summer at mine, then we’ll find our own place. Maybe a flat in London, or  I don’t know… wherever you wanna go. We’ve got forever now, Y/N.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you smiled through the sting in your eyes. “Forever?” you repeated softly.

“Forever,” Mark promised, lifting your intertwined hands to press a lingering kiss to your knuckles. “I mean, if you’ll have me, obviously.”

You scoffed, giving him a playful shove. “Mark Lee, we literally defiled the Gryffindor dorms fifteen minutes ago. I think you’re stuck with me now.”

Mark let out a loud laugh, his head tipping back, and it was like the heavy weight in your chest finally lifted. Because yes, you were leaving Hogwarts, and yes, things would never be the same again but you had Mark now. You had forever. And that made it all okay.

“Goodbye, Hogwarts,” you whispered under your breath. “Thank you for everything.”

And just like that, the castle disappeared from sight.

asjkjdh i loved writing this so much :(((( i could literally make a whole hogwarts series

[yutasbimil]

Progress

gryffindor!beomgyu x fem!hufflepuff!reader ft. slytherin!jaemin | txt ft. nct dream ff. ✦ (3/8) [series fic] !!! also posted on my ao3 acc! { here } tags: hurt/comfort ; filler vibes cw: friendship/love, bestie-lovers energy, frenemies vibe, friends to lovers, lots of bantering, tutoring, teasing, crushes, confessions, jealousy, tension, slow burn, unrequited love, love triangle, hurt-comfort, eventual smut lol, break up, eventual happy ending, FLUFF!!! ! not that comfy w/ 2nd POV, but hope 3rd POV is good for y'all ♡ word count: 0.9k

part 1 | part 2 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8

do not repost © yutasbimil (2024)

Almost tracing a trail underneath his feet, Beomgyu had been going back and forth, pacing in their Common Room. He had been like this for the past hour or so.

Biting his nails still, Mark Lee can’t help but remark on his antsyness. “Bro, you good? Is something bothering you?”

Beomgyu looks at him, though, still a bit shaken. “Oh, just about… Potions.”

“Okay, yeah, there’s a big test coming up, right?” Mark says, still laidback by the crimson couch. He lightly pats the cushion, gesturing to him. “My friend actually excels at that, maybe he can help?”

“Yeah…” Beomgyu mindlessly nods, his thoughts just trailing away from him further as he is plotting. Now how am I going to get him off our case?

“I think we have a joint class with Slytherin tomorrow or so… you know Na Jaemin?”

Almost like a snarky response, Beomgyu sighs softly as he nods. “Yeah, know him quite well… on how much he had been making himself known to Yumi.”

Dang it, Na Jaemin, you are even brought up in these instances.

“Oh, she’s the Hufflepuff girl he had been telling us… So, she’s close with you guys?”

Almost like a slip-up, Beomgyu didn’t mean the latter part of his opinion of the Slytherin to be known to the other.

He just casually nods along with Mark. “Actually, Yumi is great at Potions. I’ll ask her instead.”

“Heh, cute. No wonder they get along well.” Mark says with amusement. But opposite to Beomgyu as it visibly comments on Yumi and Jaemin being… Damn it.

“I guess.”

It left another bitter bile by Beomgyu’s throat.

-

The following day, the aura of Na Jaemin is as bright as usual. However, the smile he brings is hard to ignore because of how obviously a centimeter wider it is from ear to ear.

It is quite obtuse to his tranquil attitude upon sitting at their table. He usually greets them loudly the moment he squeezes himself in with the Dreamies.

Remaining quiet, Jeno and the others can’t help but nudge Jaemin on how stupidly in a daze he is. And he didn’t even bother hitting back. Weirdo.

“Ya! You rascal, why are you that happy? Huh?” Jisung broke the silence. “You haven’t won the Quidditch match yet.”

“It’s as if you already did.” Haechan rolls his eyes.

“Heh, sorry…” He was the first to apologize. Jaemin just scratches his head apologetically, and goes his merry way getting food on his plate.

The younger might have been implying Jaemin ditching Quidditch practice yesterday. But he was on to some important business, promise!

“Doesn’t seem sorry.” Mark side comments, pointing out his goofy smile while eating some plain-ass potatoes.

“I’ll practice lots later, don’t worry.” Jaemin just nods and goes back to his own world.

They want to slap away that smile of his on how dangerously it might rip off his cheeks. It’s clear as day that it was the Hufflepuff’s girl effect on the Slytherin. But is the outcome this instant?

Still no shenanigans? Comebacks? Anything…?

Maybe the lack of coffee in his veins?

Heol—

Renjun picks on his food with a ‘tsk’ off his lips. “I’m guessing ‘all good’?”

It’s apparent that he’s intrigued even if he appears irritated. It’s just different from the usual loudness of the friend. Time to pay him back—

The group turns to him, expecting on Renjun to know more as he’s mostly the first for Jaemin to pour out his thoughts and gears at.

Jeno nudges Jaemin, excited for him to spill the beans. “Aye, so what happened?”

They just stared at him, expectant.

Jaemin opens his mouth. “Just… great things.”

For once, lost for words huh? Impossible—

“Aish, just get on with it so we can start.” Chenle lowers his book at the slightest, the meager impatience spills through his tone. It is more on for him that he’s in a hurry to start focusing on other things.

His focus got lost in the contents of the book moments ago, and his ears are leaning more on the group as they get into another flurry of chaos.

“All flags are green and ready to go.” Jaemin gives them a thumbs up, mostly directed at Renjun as it’s mostly their code?

“Going positively well with Yumi huh?” Mark beams, teasing more as Jaemin 

“The tutor went well is all that I can say.” Jaemin puts it out there, more on giddy as he continues now that they’re made aware of it. “And now… well, we’re getting there, Yumi and I are close enough for something to develop into more.’

“Yo, Bro! Letsgooo!” Mark stands up to fist bump and chest pump the other as if to commemorate a winning game.

“So it’s sure go that she’s your date for the Year-End Party?”

“With that…” Jaemin pauses, his lips with a slightly crooked smile, but he shrugs it off. “That’s for her to decide. We’re fairly new, and I know she’s got the usual customs on that with her group. To be fair, I haven’t directly asked her yet, but I’m aware she’s got plans beforehand. Later, I’ll try again.”

“So she’ll get back to you on that?” Jisung clarifies. Jaemin bites off his food, nodding.

Haechan supports himself with his arm on the bench, laid back as he points out. “But at least…”

“You got a girlfriend!” Mark completes the statement, and the others hollered along him. 

Jaemin pushes him off as the Lion tackles him. Back on the clock.

He shushes them to sit the back down as it’s still a lazy mid-morning in the Great Hall.

“No, no, not yet.” Jaemin presses, but leaning more on the positive end. This silly crush of his turned out to progress more successfully than expected. Of course, it’s hard to get it off his chest that quickly. The warmth and butterflies cages in him. “Not yet. But it’s getting there.”

※ my masterlist | #enjeiwrites ※

[wizardingworldlibrary]

Rare Pairings - Slash Masterlist

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[dhmitri]

𝑾𝑯𝒀     𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑵𝑶𝑻     𝑰     𝑫𝑶     𝑨𝑺     𝑻𝑯𝑬     𝑾𝑶𝑳𝑽𝑬𝑺     𝑫𝑶        ?   man kills. so, a humming violence settles without hesitation. don't call this destruction, this was a deliberate act, a quiet noise in the back of the room that everyone ignored. i am choked by the gentleness of killing and too aware that there was always a softness in this, this undoing of the first thing to be done.

BASICS.

FULL NAME. byeon jaeha dmitri greyback. NICKNAME(S). dima. AGE + DOB. 25 & october 31st. ZODIAC. scorpio sun, sagittarius moon, taurus rising. GENDER. cisgender man. PRONOUNS. he & his. ORIENTATION. heterosexual. SOCIAL CLASS. previously lower middle class. now… werewolf. HOUSE. gryffindor. BLOOD STATUS. halfblood. OCCUPATION. student, dragonology track.

BACKGROUND.

LANGUAGE(S). english, some korean. FAMILY. fenrir greyback ( father ), freya greyback ( older sibling ), greyback siblings to be added. PET(S). none.

APPEARANCE.

FACECLAIM. sang heon lee. HAIR. dark brown, almost black. EYES. dark brown. HEIGHT. 6’2. TATTOO(S). none. PIERCING(S). none. SCARS + MARKS. scar running through upper lip, scars littered through his torso/arms/hands.

OTHER.

WAND. 13 inches, apple wood, dragon heartstring core. PATRONUS. non-corporeal, has never been corporeal. BOGGART. fenrir greyback. AMORTENTIA. tbd :) LOVE LANGUAGE. acts of service, physical touch, gift giving. MBTI. ISFP. MORAL ALIGNMENT. chaotic. just chaotic. ENNEAGRAM. 4w3.

tw : kidnapping, implied parental neglect, parental abuse, death of a parent, implied murder, there’s a lot going on guys i’m sorry dmdnskdmska !!

born to an old wizarding korean family that had lost their fortune & came to london in an effort to rebuild. his mother was muggleborn, arranged to marry his father in order to strengthen the byeon family’s dying magical line. however, his father was a pureblood purist, and this combination made for a hell of a home — but they insisted on staying together, mostly because each had their own idea of how they wanted to shape their heir.

that heir being jaeha, their first-born son. born with an eidetic memory, he remembers everything about his brief time with his old family. it was terrible. constant fighting between his parents, constant expectations weighed upon him — that was the story of his early childhood, the song and dance of never being enough.

there’s only one thing he doesn’t remember : the night that jaeha became dima. he doesn’t remember how fenrir found him. he doesn’t remember the bite. he doesn’t remember the next full moon, the first transformation. has locked it out of his memory by force. but he does remember the aftermath of the change, the death of his parents — they might just be the only death at his hands he’ll never regret, because it offered a brief freedom. for a moment, the house was silent. for a moment, he didn’t have to be anyone but himself. at least, until fenrir found him again.

fenrir has never been a good father. really, he’s a terrible one in every aspect — but he’s the only father dima has, and there’s an edge of loyalty that ties them together. but dima has always been not enough : too full of regret, too mouthy, too disobedient to be a monster. never enough to cross the line — but enough to have fenrir’s eyes on him, always watching, waiting to see if that disobedience grew too loud. it never is. deep down, dima wants to make him proud. he wants to make someone proud. he wants to finally be enough, even if it means destroying himself in the process.

sorted into gryffindor against his will. asked the hat to be sorted into slytherin but the hat completely ignored him. he DOES resent hatstalls who got a choice. why not him!!!

currently, he’s allied with the wraiths but is undercover as a knight. very much a ‘i need to find the avatar’ zuko situation : he doesn’t want to be a wraith, he doesn’t agree with them, he doesn’t like how they disrespect his siblings, he kind of really likes the knights he’s lying to, and somehow he still insists on making the bad decisions because he’s told himself he must. tentative on this so it may change but i don’t think he has a rune yet.

the good thing about being a greyback in his mind is his siblings. originally an only child, dima embraced being part of something bigger, even if none of them had chosen each other as their family. he would do anything for his siblings.

[scattered-shadows]

As seen on my FF.net Also seen on my Ao3

Following the events of fifth year, a new adventure awaits for Norah Lee. Boys, exams, school events, common room parties, and old foes outside of Hogwarts. Even battling pensieve guardians was easier than this.

Main Pair: OC / Ominis Gaunt Genre: Adventure/Angst/Fluff (it's a little of everything, tbh)

KEEP IN MIND: Characters are aged up (even if the story's got them in sixth year) to make it more appropriate. Time period is leaning towards the modern day so in case you might find anachronisms in the dialogue or references, this is why. This may also be quite a lengthy fic too.

BE WARNED: Social anxiety, mentions of blood and injury, grief, drinking, kissing but nothing more than that, death (this is Hogwarts Legacy, after all)

P.P.S: This is an incredibly long chapter, and only because I wanted to up the burn for this "slow-burn" duo. A confession scene at the very end. I was listening to the Bridgerton string covers for this too. An emotional rollercoaster for our Hogwarts hero. For visual reference, Norah's dress is Linda Friesen's Raven Queen gown. If you read my entry for Garreth Weasley Fest, I will start making references to Fwooper feathers and creamsicles moving forward, HAHA.

Masterlist

Chapter 25

Hogwarts had transformed into an icy palace overnight, marking the long-awaited Yule Ball. All the students, some of whom were hungover, mechanically moved about in their preparations for the upcoming festivities. However, there were others who chose not to attend and boarded the first train to go back to their homes and begin their Christmas holidays.

For Norah, Sebastian, Ominis, Garreth, Leander, Amit, Henry, Natty, and even Samantha, Poppy, and Andrew, they were all still reeling from the events that just took place. They quietly went on their separate ways to get ready, with Henry and Amit opting to get ready in the common rooms alongside Andrew, who still felt a little guilty for not calling Poppy out.

Natty, out of respect for Norah, decided not to get ready in the Room of Requirement anymore, and instead kept to herself in her mother's room where her crystal ball was. Sebastian prepared for the ball in the dormitory, leaving Ominis to go about it in the Undercroft instead. It had gotten incredibly awkward since the revelations came to light, and they weren't sure about how they could get rid of the awkwardness, not when it was still very fresh in their minds.

As much as both Ominis and Norah wanted to feel excited about taking each other to the ball, both of them kept thinking about what happened in the Coastal Caverns. Little did they know, Garreth and Leander were considering joining Norah in this quest after some excitement that came with taking on Nicholas Carrow and his goons on the way. They felt like they had gotten to know Norah so much more after this ordeal, not that both of them wanted to admit it. But it gave them a kind of excitement that they never imagined, of a heroic nature.

Seeing as there was still time, Norah showed up to the Gryffindor portrait, where she agreed to meet with Garreth and Leander. Giving Cressida a knowing nod, she waved at the two boys, who were apparently bickering over their suits. "Merlin, what happened to you?" Cressida noticed the still visible scratches on her face and the bruise on her chin.

"Just a little run-in. Bumped my face into one of Herodiana's depulso rooms," Norah tried to explain with a shrug. "Nothing to worry about."

"Bumped your face? You look like you've been beaten," Cressida was concerned. "Did you...go to where I remember you wanted to go?" She muttered so as not to be overheard.

She shook her head. "I mean...same objective, different place," She said, and Cressida nodded. "You must be excited for the ball later."

"Oh, no, I'm actually not going. I'm taking the second train out to start my Christmas holiday. It would've been nice, but I figured I needed to work on my non-verbal spells some more. I nearly got myself into the same situation you saw me in the library," Cressida flashed a pained smile, which Norah understood. "Are you going home for Christmas?"

"Yeah, first thing tomorrow morning, it seems. It's going to be my first Christmas at home since fifth year," Norah said, unsure if Sebastian, Anne, and Ominis were still going. "It's going to be fun, my parents had the rooms prepared for my arrival."

Cressida looked pleased. "Oi, Garreth! Leander! She's been waiting, you know!" She suddenly yelled at them, making Norah laugh. She bid the Slytherin girl goodbye before climbing back into the portrait hole. Soon after, the two redheads emerged, both ready with some satchels that were full of either potions or, in Leander's case, a supply of chomping cabbages.

"Is Ominis coming?" Garreth asked.

"Yeah, he said he was going to," Norah shrugged as they climbed down the stairs. "But if he's coming with us, he'll be waiting at the North exit outside."

"If my aunt asks, we're trying to get up to speed with our Potions and Herbology homework," Garreth pointed out as they approached the nearest floo flame to go out into the grounds. "It might be inappropriate to say, but I'm excited."

"What are we doing again?" Leander asked once they appeared at the gate, seeing Ominis already standing by, but this time, like the party the day before, his hair was already done.

"We're going back to that Coastal Cavern. I may have failed last night, but that doesn't mean I can't try again," Norah shook her head, pausing for a moment when she saw the blonde. "That's also why I decided to bring you two along because you're the only ones who know what really happened. If Nicholas Carrow even so much tries to spin the situation, at least there are witnesses."

"Are you feeling better now?" Ominis suddenly asked her, sensing the cuts on her face and the bruises on her body.

"Yes, I'm fine. Did Sebastian see you?" Norah asked, for some reason being so careful when she did.

Ominis shook his head, and the four of them took a few steps into the gate, where the floo flame was. Sebastian, having seen them gather from near Madam Kogawa's office, was about to catch up when they disappeared. He sighed, having been curious as to what they've been up to, having not learned anything since they returned to the Ravenclaw party the night before. Spotting Adele's flying form in the quidditch pitch, he wondered if she knew anything about it.

He spotted Natty almost running out of the Bell Tower, stopping to catch her breath. She was followed by Henry and to his surprise, Amit. All of them seemed to have been running. "Where are they? Did they go? I saw the three of them earlier," Natty turned to Sebastian.

He nodded. "Unfortunately, they went to the floo flame and vanished. But she isn't alone."

"Garreth and Leander?" Henry suddenly asked, taking a few deep breaths, and the Slytherin boy nodded again. "Ominis too?" and Sebastian nodded. "Well, at least she isn't alone, but still, I saw what happened to her last night and no one would tell us anything."

Sebastian looked down, looking a little guilty. "It might have something to do with me not being as forthcoming, that I didn't tell them Adele and I have been seeing each other for some time..."

"Oh, you probably should've been the one to tell them first before they heard it from other people," Amit suddenly pointed out. Sebastian gave him a look. "...Well, you said it might be the reason. But Henry's right, at least she's not doing this on her own. Garreth and Leander are with her, and they're helping her find Harlow, wherever he might be."

"I feel just as guilty as Sebastian for not checking in on her as much as I could or should have," Natty looked guilty as well. "I just hope she isn't doing anything that could get her injured again."

Sebastian shook his head. "You really believe she won't? This is Norah we're talking about, she'd risk her life if it meant doing something good."

"No, but I can hope, can I?"

~

The four of them arrived near the bog again. While hardly anyone stopped by the bog, especially at this time, it was still home to dugbogs that seem to be active all year round. Each of them had one hand covered in a dragonhide glove just in case they needed to hurl a chomping cabbage or a venomous tentacula or two.

"So, Norah, you're the most experienced out of all of us when it comes to things like this, what can we do?" Garreth suddenly asked as they tried to cross the bog, being careful not to disturb any dugbogs that seemed to stay still or sleep. He tried to keep up with her as fast as he could, seeing Ominis and Leander struggle a little bit in finding their footing.

"Stick close to her, she'll do her magic," Ominis chimed in, as the four of them climbed up to the path, dusting themselves off as they crept toward the gates, still wary that someone may be watching them.

"If all else fails, just hurl a tentacula or a chomping cabbage at anyone," Norah assured them. Her eyes immediately scanned the place for any sign of an Ashwinder, possibly hiding behind the rundown goblin loyalist tents or boilers. "But Ominis is right, stick close to me, and we'll be fine. We just need to find a way down there," She added.

"We can finish Harlow once and for all, show them what we're made of," Leander felt a renewed confidence the further they went inside. As soon as they were inside, Norah suddenly pushed Leander to the side.

"Petrificus totalus!"

An outline of an Ashwinder ranger emerged from one corner, the same corner Norah remembered the day before. Norah summoned them forward, and Garreth tied them up.

"Incarcerous!" He yelled, making the poacher fall to the ground, ropes immediately coiling all around their body.

Leander smirked as he got to his feet and non-verbally summoned another Ashwinder scout lurking in the shadow, Norah following with a depulso, pushing them through what they discovered was another passage, a passage that she remembered was closed off when she first set foot there in fifth year.

"Harlow, where is he?" Norah approached the one who was bound on the ground.

"You'll be going home in a wooden box," The ashwinder spat.

She rolled her eyes. "Tell me something I haven't heard before. Where is he? Unless I push you off that cliff," She tilted her head toward the open space.

"You're going to push me off anyway," They said.

"That's true, I really could," Norah nodded. "The ground below this is already littered with some loyalists the previous year. If you value your life and don't want to join those, you will tell me where Harlow is."

Garreth and Leander stared at her. Ominis kept his wand pointing at the poacher. "M-Mayfair," They muttered. "They're in Mayfair."

Norah could suddenly feel a tug in her chest, the suspicion started creeping in, yet she stayed calm. "Are they where I think they are? Where Carrow told you?" She asked, feeling that sudden coldness that came with the surge of ancient magic within her, the whispers that almost acted like a command for her to use it seeping in.

"Yes," The poacher replied meekly, only to start cackling. "By now they would've done what they did. And they're as defenseless as ever when Harlow gets to them."

Garreth kicked their leg a little. "What did they do?"

"The only useful squib is a dead squib," The poacher growled. "That's for destroyin' Horntail Hall."

The surge of ancient magic grew stronger in Norah, and it was taking everything in her not to do something to the ashwinders they captured. "They killed someone?"

"Depulso!" Ominis suddenly yelled, sending the Ashwinder down the cliff. Norah, Garreth, and Leander stared at him. "...What?"

"Bloody hell, what was that?!" Leander yelled.

Ominis turned to them. "What? The three of you were thinking it, and they were never going to tell us anyway."

"That's because we're already here."

The four of them were surrounded by several duellists and an executioner poised to envelope them in electricity and fire. "So, we're surrounded, this isn't good" Leander started to inch toward Norah, who stayed calm. Garreth was doing the same, one hand reaching into his satchel with a determined look on his face.

"We've got ourselves some children," They taunted. "Naughty naughty children."

"Might be good to do what you probably do, Norah," Garreth muttered to the girl.

Norah's eyes scanned the dark wizards surrounding them. "If you want us, come get us," She said, a flicker of ancient magic in her eyes.

"What?!" Garreth hurriedly threw a dungbomb toward one duellist while Leander hurled a chomping cabbage toward another. Ominis was quick to levitate a few before banishing them down the cliff.

"Didn't your parents teach you not to go looking at places you shouldn't?" One duellist tried to strike at them with depulso, only for Norah to block it off just as quickly, shielding the four of them. They rolled out of the way when a tower of flames rose up from the ground by the doing of one of the executioners.

"Oh right, you don't got any parents, not anymore," Another Ashwinder taunted at Norah.

"What the fuck are you playing at?!" Leander cast the knee-reversal hex on them, making them stumble and fall in time for Norah to catch their wand and point it at them.

"Tit for tat, innit?" They could tell the executioner was grinning. "You took some of ours, it's time we took some of yours."

"Harlow's reveling in the loot from your house, as we speak," Another one said. "Went to a muggle school, and that green dress in your wardrobe? A lady friend of mine would love to have something as...bejeweled as that."

It was here that Norah felt her heart pounding, not just out of concern and fear, but also from the growing surge of ancient magic within her. She could hear those faint whispers, the same whispers she'd hear whenever she was about to invoke it, the chilling whispers that seemed to tell her that it was time.

"There's also something like this too," An Ashwinder duellist suddenly took a familiar monogrammed handkerchief from their pocket. From where Norah stood, there were specks of red. "Pretty soft, probably expensive, this is."

What happened next stunned the three boys that were with her. A few ashwinders were thrown to the ground several times, torrents of lightning struck a few others, some were turned into either chickens or sheep, and the executioners were obliterated. Norah stood over some of the bodies on the ground, the whispers fading and the surge subsiding. Ominis could sense that she was trembling, on the verge of collapsing.

Despite her hands trembling, Norah was gripping her wand tightly, as if she was trying to hold on to something tangible. Garreth broke the silence as he cleared his throat. "We were ambushed."

Leander tried to reach out to her. "They must be lying, Norah. They were trying to rile you up," He was also partly trying to convince himself that what he heard about his friend's family wasn't true. "Frankly, if they knew what you could do, they were just trying to get themselves killed."

"Lee's right," Garreth added. "They must be lying, trying to get into your head. It backfired on them, though."

Ominis approached her, trying to sense what else she was feeling. "Norah, we've found out what we needed to, it might be time to go back to the castle now, we can write to your parents and check on them from there."

"Yeah, it might be best for us to go back now. We can find Harlow another day, preferably after the holiday when we get back," Garreth said, now being as careful as possible. "Norah, let's go back now, we've done what we needed to today, we still have a ball to attend...if you're still up for it."

"Yeah," Leander agreed. "At least we know there are more passages and tunnels around here. We found out enough for today."

Norah slowly turned around to face them, seeing their concerned expressions, all of them looking just as frazzled as she was from the duel. She knew they were right, she needed to send an owl to check on them before reacting to anything else. She started to nod, and Ominis took another step forward, Garreth gently linking her arm to his. Even he wasn't sure if he could spend Christmas at her home.

~

They apparated into the castle grounds, hearing the engines of the last train start from the distance in Hogsmeade Station. The four of them parted ways from there, to give the three boys time to get ready for the ball and Norah to head to the Owlery to send an owl to her parents. Hopefully she could hear from them soon.

As she was about to climb up the hill, she spotted a tall male pacing back and forth on the Summoner's Court platform. He didn't look like he was from around here, despite being around the same age as her, perhaps a year older. He was dressed in a suit under a black coat. The male spotted her and immediately jumped down, running up to approach her.

"You're Norah Lee?" He said.

She stared at him and slowly nodded. "Who are you?"

"I'm Naru, Naru Hiiragi. I'm your cousin!" He said, unsure of whether to be excited or to be alarmed. "I was told by uncle Makoto that you'd be here and I'm relieved!"

"...Cousin?" Norah didn't want to waste any time and kept going, climbing up the steep hill to the Owlery. She'd have time to take everything in later.

Naru eagerly followed her, trying to catch up. "Yes, has he not told you about me?" He asked.

She shook her head. "I can't imagine being told anything about anyone I'm possibly related to," She took bigger strides even as Naru's long legs made him quick to catch up to her. "Did you come from London?"

"Yes, that's why I'm here. I was going to pay uncle Makoto a visit since I'm on holiday now from Mahoutokoro."

"Oh," Norah opened the door, climbing up the stairs to where the owls were perched. "He told you that I was here."

"Yes," Naru stood by as she hastily scribbled something from a piece of parchment she took from her bag. "He managed to tell me after those people came and attacked him and aunt Judy."

She paused, glancing over her shoulder at him. She still wasn't sure if she could trust him just yet so she wanted to be certain. "You were there?"

"Yeah, I had just arrived when they broke into your home so I dropped my things at the door to help them."

Norah went back to her letter. She sealed the envelope and summoned Starlight, who swooped in. As soon as the owl flew out, she turned around to face him. She felt compelled to trust him, but she still needed to know for herself. "Are they alright? Like alive?"

Naru smiled. "They're alright. But I understand if you don't believe me for being your cousin or having seen them. You'll find out for yourself."

That didn't sound particularly reassuring. "Did you see a particularly ghastly looking man among them?"

"I heard about that Harlow having broken out of Azkaban when I arrived, and I managed to take down some of them but I'm afraid Harlow disapparated when I had the chance," He shook his head. "But that's also what uncle Makoto told me when he asked me to come see you. He said to tell you that your prediction was right, and that your fellow Slytherin is to blame. Wow, it's a good thing mum made me learn English as a child," He sighed in relief, almost chuckling in pride.

"Okay, so now that you've told me what you had to, maybe it would be best for you to go back and check on them, see if they're alright?"

Naru shook his head. "I would, but I was also told to come back to London with you, so you don't get surprised. I heard from your fellow students that today's the Yule Ball and I'm under the impression that you're attending."

"It would be a waste of a dress not to wear," Norah said as the two of them climbed down the stairs to leave the Owlery. "I'd go home, but the last train back to London left not long after we returned. I'll be going home tomorrow morning."

"I understand. The bullet trains in Japan are much faster than that train you took coming here, I wonder why the wizarding community here hasn't caught up with such technologies," Naru mused as they walked. "Are they too insistent on differentiating themselves from the non-magics?"

"Is that how you travel to Mahoutokoro every year?" Norah glanced at him, in which he replied with a hum. "You can settle yourself in the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade. Ask for Sirona Ryan, she might set you up with the private room for you to stay for the night. I don't know how our professors would feel about you suddenly showing up just to accompany me back home."

Naru was pleased. "Actually, I did meet your Flying Lesson teacher. Kogawa-san told me she'd put in a word with the deputy headmistress about my presence, and we talked a lot about Japan. She said she was homesick."

A million thoughts were running through Norah's mind as they entered the castle, not paying much attention to the students that were passing them by. She listened to Naru as he talked about other relatives she had no idea of, realizing that her father hadn't talked much about them if at all. As she stopped in front of the staircase leading to the wall, where the door to the Room of Requirement was, she turned to the taller.

"Naru, I know this must be a great time for you, with the two of us finally meeting and all, but we can talk about all of this tomorrow, okay? I got the message, I'll wait to hear from my parents. You can go now, please?" Norah said, followed by an exasperated sigh. "Besides, I don't want anyone coming up with more things to hate me for than they already do now."

Naru smiled, in the hopes of providing some comfort. "I know. I just wanted to let you know that I'm here. You've got family. I'll see you tomorrow morning in Hogsmeade Station."

He stepped away before walking back the way they came, stopping just before the floo flame to wave at her before disappearing in a puff of green smoke. Another sigh escaped Norah as she pressed on, reaching the Room of Requirement and entering it, finding Deek already at work in tidying up the entrances of the vivariums.

"Your friends were so worried about you, Deek was also worried about you," the house-elf was quick to say upon seeing her emerge from the doors. "Professor Weasley has told me some grave news about your parents. But she luckily never told anyone anything, perhaps except the teachers."

As if it couldn't get any worse. Norah exhaled sharply as she closed her eyes for a moment. "That means everyone in the school now knows, Deek. If anyone tries to go inside, tell them I'll see them at the Great Hall," She said glumly, not wanting to snap as she proceeded to the adjoining room, where it suddenly shifted to turn into a space similar to the prefects' bathroom. A marble bathtub the size of a children's swimming pool came up, the sparkling taps filling it to the brim with water and nicely scented bubble bath.

Some soft music filled the room, further providing the space with some ambience - something Deek probably sensed if he ever saw the latest transformation. Certain that no one was looking other than herself, Norah undressed and got in the tub. The warmth of the water and soap around her acted like a weighted blanket, bringing her mind at a kind of ease that was unnerving, especially for someone who was on the verge of becoming an orphan. From the way Naru acted when she asked if they were fine, however, made the possibility very likely.

This wasn't exactly how she had hoped she'd be spending her sixth year. Norah was tired from all the fighting, frustrated with how things were socially and perhaps with Ominis, and unsure about Naru and whether he was telling the truth. Not that she'd have any truth to base that on as it seemed like a part of her that she hadn't gotten to know.

There was still time before the ball started, and Norah didn't plan on making a grand entrance, especially as she remembered she would be attending with Ominis as her date.

Date. Ominis was going to be her date.

If she didn't have the rest of her problems to think about, Norah would've been giddy, over the moon at the fact that Ominis had asked her to the ball. Sure, it was out of thinking that since Sebastian was going with someone, it left them to settle with each other, but nevertheless, she was going to attend with Ominis. She thought about what Grace and Nerida had told her back when she was still thinking about what to wear. Ominis might not see what she was wearing but everyone else will, and she was going to be expected to make a grand entrance whether she liked it or not simply because of who she was.

She also thought about what she told Naru before he left for Hogsmeade. She was certain people still hated her for what happened between Samantha and Amit, including Poppy. There was a friendship she didn't expect to end so suddenly, but Norah just let it be. In the grand scheme of things, it was a sign that she needed a stronger group of friends around her. For now, it did seem like Garreth, Leander, and Ominis were it. It was just how life was, whether witch, wizard, or muggle.

Norah closed her eyes and stayed there for a while, or at least until she saw the time and needed to get ready. Most of her belongings were already packed and she told Deek to tend to the beasts while she was going to be away. Highwing, his Lordship, and Ruby would be coming with her in the nab sack.

She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what to feel. It was as if everything was changing all around her, and she couldn't hold onto something. Norah felt like she was losing control, some sense of reality that could point her to where she needed to go, tell her what she needed to do next.

Not even the Room of Requirement could give her the kind of solace she was looking for because of its ever-changing dynamic.

She didn't realize how long she had been soaking in the tub until she heard Deek calling to her from behind the curtains that covered the steps. Apparently, there was someone who wanted to speak with her, someone she hadn't spoken to in a while.

Making sure to at least have her underwear on, Norah slipped on the bathrobe hanging near the rest of her clothes. The room slowly shifted, the tub disappearing and leaving a few puddles behind. "I'm decent!" She called out, the curtain suddenly opening.

"Norah?" It was Amit, already dressed in his tuxedo.

"Oh," Norah held on the opening of her robe. "Hi Amit, what brings you here? Did anyone see you?"

The Ravenclaw boy shook his head. "I don't really care anymore. Samantha and I have kind of sorted out this matter of miscommunication. She's been hoping to apologize to you for suddenly dragging you into this," He explained. "I mean, we've already sorted it out during the Ravenclaw party when we did 7 Minutes in Heaven..."

"What brought that on?" She was curious.

Guilt played across Amit's features. "She overheard that whole argument we had with Poppy before the party began. Samantha was hoping to set everything straight if she saw you, but you kept leaving all of a sudden. And to be honest, I was also wondering how the plan's been doing until I heard that..." He wasn't sure whether to bring it up. "Harlow and the Ashwinders broke into your home and...I was suddenly worried. A lot of us were, to be honest."

"That's very kind of you to say, thank you Amit," Norah nodded in acknowledgment.

Amit wanted to say more, and his mind was racing as to how he could properly say what he wanted to say. "It wasn't fair to you, what I said before, that we shouldn't hang out for a while because of what people might think," He admitted. "I should've said my peace to Samantha better, this was really all my fault. I'm sorry."

The apology seemed to cut through like a knife and Norah looked down for a moment. She could only nod, not knowing what to say.

"I truly understand if you don't want to hang out or talk to me anymore, I just thought you should know what I think. That's all I wanted to say," Amit glanced down at his shoes. "I should be going now. The ball's starting soon."

Amit offered a small smile before leaving the room. Norah turned to the mannequin that was wearing the dress she was about to attend the ball in. It was time to get ready.

~

The Great Hall was transformed into an icy palatial court for the year's Yule Ball, with snowflakes enchanted to fall from the ceiling instead of the usual candles. The ghosts from the deathday parties provided the music in the corner, the string renditions of popular songs they heard from the muggle world. The teachers that stayed to attend, Professor Black included, were all dressed for the occasion.

The students that were already dressed, stood in line outside the hall with their dates or friends. Henry looked especially dapper in his tuxedo, with Natty, who was dressed in an elegant crimson ball gown, with flecks of gold catching the light. Sebastian had Adele, who wore an elegant red and gold gown inspired by the hanbok, with her hair in a now slick bun and decorated with what she revealed were her mother's headpieces.

Amit, who had long opted to go alone, decided to group with Leander and Garreth, who managed to get ready in time after their cavern adventure near the coast. Unsurprisingly, both Leander and Garreth wore hand-me-down suits from their siblings.

The doors opened,signaling that they could all enter the hall, almost all of them looking at the setup in awe.

"Welcome to this year's Yule Ball!" Professor Weasley declared, in her blush pink Victorian ensemble.

Meanwhile, Ominis was pacing back and forth outside the doors of the hall, not quite ready to enter just yet. He was waiting for Norah to arrive, after she told him that she would meet him at the doors instead. Sebastian's attempts to press him for information on what they had done in the caverns continued to fail, with Ominis knowing that this fight between Norah and Harlow had become much more personal. It did seem like an unspoken agreement between the four of them back there, that they wouldn't say a word to anyone, not even the people they were often around, about what they had been up to. Although it wouldn't be surprising if Professor Weasley already knew.

But the blonde was determined not to focus on that for a moment, even just for a night, and instead direct his attention to the fact that Norah was his date.

"Looks like she finally settled for Gaunt," He heard someone say.

"Finally! She couldn't keep dragging those boys on for long, did you hear she went out with him, Prewett, and Weasley earlier today?"

"Poor Garreth and Leander"

He was reminded of the things people now said about Norah after that mess between Amit and Samantha and he couldn't help but be annoyed again. Yet as much as he wanted to tell them off, he could only freeze and stay quiet.

"Where's Norah?" Sebastian suddenly appeared.

"She's getting ready. She told me she was going to meet me here," Ominis replied blankly.

Sebastian sighed. "Look, I'm sorry I wasn't there for either of you, alright? I'm sorry I wasn't hanging out with you two as much. Nothing I've done can excuse that, even a relationship. I promise I'd do better, please, Ominis-"

Ominis tilted his head, a brow raised. "Cat got your tongue, Sebastian?"

The brunette shook his head, his expression of that in awe of what he was looking at. "No, Norah's here."

It was as if everyone that was around stopped at the sight of Norah climbing down the steps in her gown. A blue-gray number with bell sleeves and sparkling floral appliques in tulle. Norah's hair was in a chignon and had a sparkly starry headband on top. Ominis stood straight, sensing everyone's reactions only to realize what they were seeing when he pointed his wand.

Norah approached the blonde, her heart pounding as she wondered what they thought. "If I wasn't hallucinating, you look like..." Sebastian grinned.

"Like a what?" Norah asked.

"A bride."

Norah shook her head. "Very funny. If you'll excuse us," She turned to Ominis. "Shall we?"

Ominis chuckled, especially as he sensed his friend's flustered expression. He put his arm out and linked hers with his own. "We shall. You ought to get back to Adele, she must be looking for you by now."

The two of them entered the Great Hall, where the dancing had already begun. Norah could feel the stares of several people as they made their entrance, Ominis already scanning the place for a table they could settle in. From her peripheral vision, Norah could see Garreth and Leander looking both in awe and proud.

"People are still saying those things about me, aren't they?" She suddenly muttered.

"Yes unfortunately," Ominis frowned a little at the thought.

Norah sighed. "They've made up their minds, it seems."

"The life of a Slytherin," Ominis tried to lighten the mood, his fingers brushing against the fabric of her sleeves. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks," She smiled. "I almost decided not to go, but then it would be a wasted opportunity not to wear the dress my parents bought for me."

Norah looked over to where Nerida and Grace were sitting. The two girls gave her approving looks. Grace even mouthed to tell her where she got her dress from, making Norah chuckle. Ominis led them to a barely occupied table, joining Caleb, who had Constance as his date. "Look at both of you," Constance grinned. "I didn't expect any less."

Norah and Ominis just smiled. "Thank you, Constance. You and Caleb look just as good," She replied. The pair beamed with pride, and the Slytherin girl noticed the jacket Caleb was wearing. "That's a Sezane jacket, isn't it?"

The Hufflepuff boy gaped, while Constance and Ominis looked surprised. "Yes, my parents bought it from a muggle boutique in Paris. How did you know?"

She shrugged. "I remember seeing that on display not too long ago. Before I realized I could do magic, my parents would sometimes take me on random vacations in Paris. That's how I remembered it. My dad wanted one but my mum wouldn't let him just yet."

Constance looked curious. "Is that where you got your dress?"

Norah chuckled. "No, my parents bought these from another boutique that does made to order. Not even Gladrags or Madam Malkins have these. And I also tried looking secondhand."

"Astonishing," The blonde Ravenclaw looked impressed.

Their discussion was seemingly cut short when plates and tureens of food were immediately summoned onto each table, signaling the start of dinner. Some of the pairs of students dancing had even stopped to tuck in and eat. Ominis and Norah casually glanced at each other every now and then, chuckling to themselves. This didn't go unnoticed by Caleb and Constance, who exchanged knowing looks, immediately figuring out what seemed to go on between them, joining the several others who noticed this about the two.

After the last course was summoned, the dancing resumed but this time, led by the professors. Professor Black and his wife, in her very rare appearance, had the honor of doing the first dance. Caleb and Constance were among those who immediately joined in, including Sebastian and Adele, who was already pulling the Slytherin boy to the dance floor before he could take his final spoonful of pudding.

Henry and Natty casually made their way to the dance floor as well, followed by Andrew and Poppy. Leander had even approached Grace to dance, which she accepted. Norah turned to Ominis. "I'm guessing your family taught you to dance what they dance at balls," She grinned.

"Of course they did, I'm not as uncultured as you think," He teased, and she nudged him, the two of them laughing. He would want nothing more than to show Norah how to dance. All he needed to do was ask. "Norah, if-if it's alright, would you like to dance?"

Norah felt her heart flutter, her already pink cheeks turning a darker shade. Ominis was asking her to dance. She glanced at the crowd. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," The blonde nodded, slowly getting up. "You're going to have to hold my wand with me, though, so I don't step on your feet."

She got up. "I would like nothing more," She said, placing her hand over his wand-bearing one, letting him lead her to the dance floor.

~

The sight of them seemed to make those nearby dance to the side to make room for them. Norah put her other hand on his shoulder, and he put his other hand on her waist. The two of them began to sway, and to her surprise and amazement, Ominis proved to be good at this kind of dance, suddenly twirling her, catching her off-guard before his hand found its way back to her waist.

The closer they were, their cheeks were turning pink. Norah felt her heart flutter whenever the dance brought her almost flush against him. "I'm impressed, Gaunt," She grinned.

"Glad to hear it," He replied, the adrenaline coursing through him. He was still thinking about how Sebastian described the way she looked. Like a bride. It was making him picture a possible future, maybe with her, the two of them dressed the way they were at this moment. Yet at the back of his mind, there was a nagging thought, one he didn't want to entertain for the night but had been present since he realized his feelings for Norah.

Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes. No.

Nothing can happen. Something should happen. Nothing can happen. Something should happen.

A future with Norah. Ending the Gaunt legacy. A future with Norah. Ending the Gaunt legacy.

"I'm glad I decided to attend the ball after all," Norah's voice suddenly cut through the thoughts he had as he pulled her in for another twirl.

Ominis hummed, the two of them walking back to their table once the song had finished. "Didn't the last train back to London leave just as when we returned from the cavens?" He asked.

"Yeah," She nodded. "But even then, I almost decided to just spend the rest of the day in the Room of Requirement, feeding and brushing the beasts. I never got a response."

A future with Norah. Ending the Gaunt legacy. A future with Norah. Ending the Gaunt legacy.

It was a growing battle between his mind and his heart and Ominis was getting overwhelmed, yet he still wanted to pay attention. Norah seemed to take this better than he thought. "I'm sorry, Norah."

She shook her head profusely. "You know, I don't want to think about that right now. If you still want to spend the Christmas holiday at my home, I might need help in making the funeral arrangements. You'll meet my cousin too, but that's a different story."

The mention of her cousin made Ominis tilt his head. "Your cousin?"

"Yeah, I met him earlier. Can you believe it? Now I know my father wasn't an only child," She said quietly.

The music suddenly changed into a more upbeat one, and almost everyone was getting up to dance. Even some of the teachers like Professors Hecat and Ronen were joining along in the dancing.

Norah glanced at him. "It was your button that was on my desk the other day," She said, chuckling when she saw him tense up a little. "Was that the first button or the second one?"

"...How did you know it was me?" Ominis swallowed. Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes. No.

"I saw you wearing your waistcoat the other day. Sebastian even pointed it out that time. You either forgot to sew on a new one or you..." She paused, her heart pounding the more she explained it. "You gave it to me...you gave it to me? Or was that meant for someone else?"

Before Ominis could answer, Samantha suddenly approached their table. "Hi," She said.

"Hello Samantha, what brings you to this table? Shouldn't you be dancing?" Norah looked over the Ravenclaw girl's shoulder, seeing some groups of people whisper amongst themselves.

Samantha shook her head. "I just finished, but I'd like to have a word with you, outside the hall, maybe?" She suggested.

Norah glanced at Ominis, who nodded, and she followed Samantha outside the Great Hall. "Whoa, the music was that loud," She exhaled with a laugh. "So, what's up?"

Samantha fidgeted with her bracelet. "I just wanted to apologize for how things had been. People overheard Amit breaking it off with me and it got blown out of proportion and," She sighed. "I never meant to call you a backstabber or tart, I was just so hurt and sad and- I-I envy you, you know?"

Norah raised a brow. "What's there to envy me for?"

"You just seem to get along with people. You arrived in Hogwarts late, you bested me in Summoner's Court, you saved the school from a goblin warlord, and you have the attention of many good-looking boys here. You even saved my brother from living with beets for feet when I couldn't," She sighed.

She shook her head. "Samantha, you wouldn't want to live my life if you knew what it would entail. My story is not something to envy. If you heard the recent news, this is nothing to aspire to want."

Samantha nodded, her expression changing from apologetic to concerned. "But for the most part, I am so sorry for what I said. I don't know if Amit told you, that we sorted it out during the house party. It got to that after I heard Poppy get into an argument with him, with Natty, with Henry before the party began. I felt responsible for your friendship ending just like that."

Norah smiled. "We'll have to leave that to Poppy, won't we? It's alright, Samantha. I understand completely. I'm sure you knew that during that time, Amit and I never spoke or hung out because he didn't want you getting even more upset."

The Ravenclaw girl groaned. "Yes, he told me and that's why I feel even more responsible. I'm sorry, Norah. If I could undo all of that, I would've but, it's too late, isn't it?"

"Kind of, yeah, I'm sorry," Norah chuckled. "But it's fine. If I was really mad about it, I would've gone back into your family tomb and got the crest again."

Samantha stared at her. "You wouldn't."

"Right, I wouldn't," She shook her head. "But really, Samantha, it's alright. You have my forgiveness if that's what you want to hear."

Samantha leaned in to hug her, wiping a tear or two from her eyes as she pulled away. "By the way, I saw the boy that told the professors that he's your cousin at the grounds earlier. He's kind of cute."

Norah laughed. "I only just met him today since I've never met him before. He's from Japan, attending Mahoutokoro as a seventh year. I think we should go back to the ball now, people might be looking for us."

"Ooh, by the way, Henry lost Summoner's Court against Charlotte," Samantha grinned as they went back inside. "I knew Charlotte was a good opponent, but I didn't think she'd be even more unbeatable today."

"I think she took to heart what I said when I beat her," Norah laughed. "Practice. A lot of practice."

The two girls parted ways, with Norah returning to Ominis, Caleb, and Constance. Ominis was frowning at how Caleb and Constance seem to be flirting each other, with Constance's chair being a lot closer to Caleb's than before. "Hey, both of you look cute" Norah pointed out, making the pair lean back, evidently flustered.

"What did Samantha want to say?" Ominis asked.

"She apologized for the whole mess, that's all. And that Henry apparently lost Summoner's Court against Charlotte," Norah replied, sitting back, amused at how Caleb and Constance went back into conversing a little close to each other. "So, there's something I wanted to talk to you about. Want to get out of here?"

Ominis nodded. "Sure. Undercroft?" He whispered.

~

Norah and Ominis quietly slipped away from the ball, making their way into the Undercroft. Both their hearts were pounding in anticipation, not that they knew how the other felt. It was a time when they felt that they could talk about something while everyone was especially distracted. They entered the Undercroft and Norah let out an exhale, standing in front of what was the triptych of Isidora Morganach.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Ominis asked.

Norah couldn't help but blurt out what she had long been thinking. "The button on my desk was yours. You summoned me in Ronen's assignment, those notes you kept writing as 'Nick' and those riddles and poems. What you said about me in the Daily Prophet," She tried to recall everything, not noticing how Ominis was becoming increasingly flustered, almost tongue-tied. "What do those things mean? What's going on?"

Ominis froze. His mind and his heart were in battle. "Wh-what?"

"You know what I'm talking about," Norah pressed. "Ominis, not long after I told you guys about the whole meaning in Japan about the second button of the blazer. Are you-I'm not sure whether to suspect that you like me or if you did all of those things out of pity or as a joke."

"A joke?" Ominis's brows furrowed.

"Yes, were those things a joke? You were making fun of the meaning behind the buttons?" Norah asked.

"I wanted you to guess who I was in Ronen's assignment, I can't just say that I was the one who summoned your name-"

"Ominis," She sighed. "Do you like me?"

The blonde Gaunt froze again. He wanted to say something, but the words didn't seem to want to come out. He was getting overwhelmed. It was reminding him of the dream he had. Was it happening now?

"Ominis Gaunt, do you like me?" Norah sounded like she was welling up. "Because-because I like you. I do. I might be too transparent and that probably made you think of playing along- And I can't help but think about the things you've done for me, even what happened in the Coastal Cavern earlier today, you were watching me sleep when I was in the hospital wing - But if you don't like me in that way, just tell me so I can stop daydreaming about you and I can go on with my life and dealing with everything I'm dealing with. Ominis, do you like me?"

Ominis swallowed. His heart was pounding and he was feeling overwhelmed. "Norah, it's complicated-"

"No it isn't complicated, you're not answering my question," Norah argued. "Do you like me?"

"You will find it impossible to be with me-"

"Do you like me?"

"You don't want to be in a relationship with me. I-I tend to scare people away because of my last name-"

"That is for me to decide, not you," Norah was getting even more worked up. "Do you like me?"

"I love you!"

The entire Undercroft went silent. Norah stared at him, trying to process what she just heard. As for Ominis, it felt like the floodgates were opening, and there was no way for him to stop.

"From the moment we went into the Scriptorium together," He said shakily, on the verge of tears. "I fell in love with you. I find myself looking for you, looking for your voice all the time. Since then I have tried so hard not to say it, because I know what that would mean and it's frightening, but I do. It's never been a joke when it comes to you, Norah. I wanted to give you that button, I meant what I said in the Daily Prophet about you, I meant it all."

Ominis was also tearing up, Norah standing there in front of him. "I mean it, Norah," He whispered. "I love you-" He took another step forward as Norah cut him off to kiss him, her hands cradling his face, and his hands on her lower back.

She slowly pulled away, his forehead resting on hers as they took in what just happened. "Ominis-" She whispered, only to be cut off when he leaned in again for another kiss.