Chapter Text
Hogwarts hasn’t had a new student in what felt like a decade of semesters—years and years of familiar faces crossing paths in the hallway until everyone became so familiar with one another until they could decipher each other simply from the shade of their eyes and that alone. So, when it came up this morning during their ceremonial breakfast between the Houses that a new student prophesied to integrate into the Ravenclaw house, the students weren’t very excited.
Because a new student meant a new body to teach the expansive maze called the halls of Hogwarts—a burden to escort to classes, another pair of eyes to study the shade of, another pair of ears to teach the rules and regulations of the school (which, by the way, is a handbook of nearly several hundred pages). And, which pisses off the students the most, is that a new edition to the student body meant a whole new reconfiguration of their teams in contests and projects in their classrooms.
Now, are three of the Houses being overdramatic? Oh, absolutely. The new addition will almost unnoticeably affect them, if even. Ravenclaw—the House known for strict order whenever it comes to their method to the madness—will be under the most stress with the new admission. This new student rumored to come from Nevermore Academy will be an absolute shit show. And the one student who will suffer the brunt of the force is none other than the student who was in love with the only room in the Ravenclaw Tower that he didn’t have to share: Park Sunghoon.
Turns out the days of unbothered slumber and having a double bedded room all to himself are over starting tomorrow morning.
“Sucks for you,” Jungwon teases after he swallows a mouthful of butter beer. “I mean, maybe you guys needed another. After all, you guys have lost every competition for the past . . . what? Four or five semesters?”
“Shut up.” Sunghoon groans in annoyance. He leans over the table, pressing his elbows into the wood and burying his face into his hands. The idea of a new student coming is maddening, and even more so now that he has to share a room with him. “What do you know about him, Won?”
“Well, since you asked!” Jungwon smiles so wide almost as though he’s been dying to be asked this question before the news even came. “Sunoo is from Nevermore Academy, originally he was placed there because the faculty thought he was a Peculiar for some reason.”
“What reason?” Sunghoon tilts his head, trying to get a better understanding of the vague narrative that Jungwon is slowly pulling him into like a fish on a wire. It’s one of the younger’s greatest strengths he’s acquired after being appointed the campfire storyteller over the years of attending Hogwarts.
“Well, I’m not entirely sure.” He frowns defeatedly. “I heard that Hogwarts had some bound agreement with Nevermore—heard the Headmaster mutter something under his breath during a meeting about Mistress Weems wanting to expand the curriculum.”
“Expand the curriculum? Why the Hell would they try to expand a several year curriculum?” Sunghoon scoffs, unpleased with the information he’s hearing: if anything, he thinks it’s full of shit.
“That and, well, apparently the Headmaster said that Sunoo—that’s his name by the way—has a magic no one has ever seen before. And that magic was too strange for Nevermore.”
Jake arrives untimely, late per usual, and plops down on the bench beside Sunghoon after plucking a half eaten apple off his plate. The Gryffindor is known for his tardiness, but no one complains about it because when the boy arrives, things tend to get louder the moment he stops stuffing his face with breakfast.
“Are you guys talking about the new Ravenclaw?” Jake asks, his voice muffled with unswallowed, chewed apple. “Heard he has some crow following him around everywhere. Typical Nevermore, eh?”
“He has a fucking crow?” The Ravenclaw groans and lowers his head onto the table, an audible thump alarming a group of friends further down the bench at another section. “I’ll never get a full seven hours of sleep ever again. Do you know how important my sleep is to me, Jake? Jungwon? This is stupid. I can’t do it.”
Jungwon laughs in response, but he knows that the older isn’t joking one bit. There was one day where he caught Sunghoon on the off chance of not getting his full several hours worth of rest and suffered the entire day hearing about it—and when it came to the afternoon duel, he faced Sunghoon’s uncontrolled visceral wrath from sleep deprivation and had to sit in the infirmary for two hours. The older didn’t mean it, but, that’s simply what happens when he doesn’t get enough sleep.
“So what’s this magic you say he has?” Jake presses as he steals a muffin from another student’s plate without them noticing, which earns himself a laugh from the other two.
“Mmm, something about Tarot?” Jungwon tilts his head and looks off into the distance as though he were scanning through his memories like pages in a textbook trying to find the right resource. “I don’t know exactly, but apparently he’s coming here with a gifted exchange student scholarship. So, that means he’s already on the good side of all the professors. Me, personally, I think they just kicked him out of the school because he was weird and gloomy.”
“How do you know all of this?” Sunghoon asks, somehow skeptical now instead of before. His eyes narrow, trying to read into the irises of Jungwon’s eyes as though he could detect a lie in the hopeful shimmer and glow of innocence that always seems to find a way to brighten any room.
“I’m the vice president of the student body, Sunghoon.” He returns crossly. “I sit in with the paraprofessional meetings for curriculum and staffing.”
“Ah, right.” Sunghoon nods and returns to his breakfast, forking at the diced potatoes he drenched in Muddrake sauce. “I guess I’ll believe you then.”
“When has our little Jungwon ever been wrong?” Jake teases as he squeezes the apple of the younger’s cheek between his index and thumb.
“How about when we were off in the Forbidden Woods last year and he said there was a rumored mansion that was abandoned somewhere and turned out to be a rogue witch’s hut?” Sunghoon raises his eyes coldly to meet Jake’s own, a clash of fire and ice caught in the middle of the disordered chaos of morning breakfast. “Or, when he simply lied about how he got the key to the Heart of the Library—by the way, closed off to all students—but he said the Headmaster let him go in once when he indeed stole it while he was sleeping—”
“Enough! Okay! I get it.” Jungwon raises his hands in surrender. “I’m not the most reliable narrator, but this time I am. I mean it!”
Sunghoon and Jake share a short lived glance before rolling their eyes.
“Ask Jay! He was there with me at the meeting. He’ll tell you the same thing I did.”
As if summoned on cue, Jay arrives with a tray of food, an apple already balanced between his lips as he lowers himself onto the bench. His Griffyindor scarf falls into his oatmeal, and his eyes portray a sort of impatience that says this morning simply isn’t going my damn way at all.
“Jay hyung,” Jungwon greets him warmly, patting him on the shoulder. “We have to greet the newcomer in an hour, by the way.”
“Yeah. Heard he’s a bit weird, though.” Jay shrugs as he wipes the oatmeal off of his scarf with a napkin, his frustration already weighing down the corners of his lips into a frown. “Sorry, Sunghoon, you’re going to be stuck with him.”
“Don’t remind me.” He sighs as he comes to a stand, “I’m heading off. Meeting Heeseung this morning at the training grounds for some practice before the skills assessment later tomorrow. I’ll catch you guys later for supper?”
“Sounds good.” Jay nods in return, but he’s quick to add a question before Sunghoon disappears. “You okay with the new guy having the spare closet? I know you have some things in there, I can put them on your bed or something.”
“Fuck.” Sunghoon lulls his head back, staring up to the skies and cursing whatever Gods planned this out for him. If anything, it’s like a thorn in his ass he couldn’t help but fall onto. “That’s fine, just throw them on my desk or bed, I’ll deal with it when I’m back.”
⚡︎⚡︎⚡︎
As Sunghoon rounds the side of the training ground, a sphere of flame hurls across the field. It pelts against the cracked armor of the stationary target down the path, flame curling around the sides and engulfing the human shaped dummy in heat and blaze. The smell of smoke burns at the Ravenclaw’s nostrils, but it’s a scent he’s come to love over the many years of practicing—if anything, it excites him more often than not.
For someone who cherishes academics above all else, Sunghoon still finds the thrill of slinging spells and magic despite his reputation.
“Hey,” Heeseung greets, dousing the end of his wand under the flow of water from the fountain. He has a wand aged like fine wine, passed down from generation to generation throughout his family tree until he was the most recent to accept it—it hasn’t lost its flare of powerful touch. It’s just as strong as it was centuries ago: the pheonixwood still intact and designed from weathered age, still beautiful to him. “Coming for a couple rounds?”
“Yeah, I really need to get my mind off of today.” Sunghoon unsheaths his wand from his waistband, the cooling touch of the wood grazing against the bare skin of his side as he draws it out. On the other hand, Sunghoon has a wand forged from Elmwood with a string of Unicorn hair woven into the hilt—the kind of wand meant to withstand and carry the burden of high capacities.
His wand was a gift from his mother years ago before the acceptance letter to Hogwarts had arrived. She had known from the start that her son would be a trueborn academic weapon, and his place in Hogwarts was guaranteed by fate (and her overconfidence). She spent her entire savings to afford the wand, which he still has yet to find out about, but he hasn’t been home for years so it’s not like he’d come to understand the consequence of her overconfidence and pride in her son.
“What’s today?” Heeseung asks as he strides down the path, making his way down until he finds the right distance for a friendly duel. “Exam day tomorrow?”
Heeseung is a year ahead of Sunghoon, but he can still remember the contents of the past year—one of the hardest ones: flameduels, prestigious classes on potions and brewery, and the most difficult of all: the trek through the Forbidden Forest where the pairs must return with their assigned relic.
“Yeah, but also, there’s a new student coming tonight. He’ll be rooming with me, much against my will if I may add.” Sunghoon chides as he settles his feet into the dirt, the soles of his shoes digging into the pathway to sturdy himself.
“That’s not all that bad, really. I shared a room with Ni-ki for . . . how long? It’s really not that bad. If I can handle Ni-ki, you can handle anyone.” Heeseung tries to console the younger, but he can tell nothing he could say would ever comfort him. He knows very well that Sunghoon is someone that values space and time alone above all else: it’s his way of recharging, or even his way of maintaining his composure when all else starts to crumble around him.
“I don’t know about that.” Sunghoon shakes his head. From his uncontrolled temper, the end of his wand sparks twice, blue sparks bouncing to the campground floor before dissipating into a lifeless invisibility. “He’s from Nevermore. Probably going to be weird and strange—he’s got a crow, too.”
“A crow?” Heeseung’s posture perks up. “Kim Sunoo?”
“You heard of him?”
“I know him, Sunghoon.” Heeseung flicks his wand twice against the spidery webbed palm of his free hand. “That boy is incredible. I met him during a liaison internship at Nevermore, and holy shit is he mesmerizing.”
“What do you mean?”
“He does this thing with cards,” Heeseung looks into the distance as he tries his best to recall the moments he spent with Sunoo. “I asked him one night to do a reading on me, and he said he would if I’d just leave him alone. I promise I wasn’t annoying, you know I’m not like that—”
Sunghoon scoffs at Heeseung’s blatant lie.
“—Either way, he did a reading for me in his room. There was candles and stuff all over the floor and he asked me to put my wand on some cloth so the energy would transfer to the reading or whatever.” Heeseung’s eyes start to soften during the recount, and Sunghoon is starting to see the unguarded fondness tugging at the muscles of Heeseung’s body: gentling his composure, his shoulders slackening. “He did my horoscope, too. Everything he told me would happen came true: I passed my exams that I didn’t think I would, I managed to fend off a dementor that following Friday.”
“He’s probably just a con artist, hyung. Can we just spar already?” Sunghoon’s patience grows thin, and he hurls a ball of flame without warning.
Heeseung snaps into razor sharp focus, all evidence of him recalling the night with Sunoo now buried beneath the composure of the most talented duelist at Hogwarts. He deflects the ball of heat and flame with a subtle grace, the kind that shows both talent and hard work all boiled down into the same concoction.
The fire dances off of his wand and fizzles out into the air behind him. Heeseung rolls his shoulders and flashes his dangerous, feline signature smirk. “So you really think you can take your mind off things by dueling me?”
“Do me a favor,” Sunghoon kicks dirt off from his shoe and adjusts his grip on the wand. “Less talking, just cast, Heeseung hyung. I really need this right now.”
Heeseung nods knowingly and whips his wand forward, flashing through the air with a speed Sunghoon has never quite come to realize is actually as fast as it seems. The ball of heat comes at an alarming speed, yet the younger is timely enough to block it with his wand—a few embers dig into the fabric of the sleeves of his robe, charring small holes into the weaving.
Sunghoon looks down at the damage and sighs, but it’s his fault at the end of the day: he’s slow, burdened with the afterthought of some Nevermore exchange student taking half of his dorm room hostage.
“Sunghoon, pay attention.” Heeseung reprimands, stopping his spell midcast and letting it sizzle off the end of his wand like a dying thought. “You wanted to duel yet you aren’t even trying. Come on, man.”
“Sorry, sorry.” He groans and raises his wand. He whips around, his wand following his limb like an extra length: frost starts to cover the length in crystallizing fever, and out comes a burst of snow in a compact sphere.
It flies through the air without as much as a sound and it takes Heeseung off guard, splitting into a shroud of hail just before it peppers against a malformed shield of magic the older barely had enough time to summon. The shards graze against the curve of his jaw, small flecks of blood dancing down the delicate skin.
“Sunghoon.” Heeseung growls. “You know the rules.”
Sunghoon realizes his lack of control, coming to suffer the recognition that he’s losing his temper and hurting his friend for no real good reason at all. The guilt sits at the pit of his stomach like overcooked stew: bitter and neglected, sour and unwanted. He’s allowing himself to use this duel as an outlet, and an abusive one at that.
“I’m really sorry.” Sunghoon lowers his head and sheaths his wand in surrender back into the waistband of his pants. He doesn’t think twice to wipe off the aftermath of the duel: letting the frost bite into the skin of his side as chastisement. “Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this right now.”
“No.” The older Gryffindor agrees. “I think you need to get your shit together, Hoon. You shouldn’t really be bothered by this newcomer, he isn’t what you think he is.”
“Safe for you to say. You only met him once. I will have to spend the rest of my time here at Hogwarts with him.”
Heeseung presses his lips into a thin line, not knowing really what to say next. Caught at a loss for words, instead he brings his sleeve to wipe away the blood from his jaw: the fabric grazing against the open cuts. Then, he raises his wand and summons some healing arts into closing the wounds.
“You’re being an asshole for no reason.” The older says as he runs his wand under the stream of water at the fountain. “Take some advice from your hyung, won’t you? You need to be a bit nicer. This aloof guy act won’t get you valedictorian. You know half of the votes come from professors electing a student based off morals.”
“Yeah. I know.”
Heeseung's hand comes to the younger’s shoulder, and despite the words next to come from his mouth sounding cruelest in the slightest, they are entirely what Sunghoon needs to hear. “Grow up, Hoon. Sunoo is truly one of a kind, and maybe you might lose valedictorianship to him—he’s been valedictorian at Nevermore since day one of being there.”
“That’s Nevermore.” Sunghoon returns bitterly, the sour taste returning to his mouth as though his spot was truly threatened. He knows that Heeseung means well, but if it wasn’t for already feeling bad for hurling an uncontrolled frost spell at him, he’d certainly punch him across the face.
“Exactly. And you know curriculum there is five times more difficult than it is here. They learn more than magic—”
“It’s still Nevermore.”
“I don’t know if that’s supposed to be an insult Sunghoon.” Heesung laughs and withdraws his hand back to his side before sleeving his wand. “But if it is, I hope to see Sunoo drag you through the dirt for the sake of you learning your lesson.”
“Fuck you.”
“Bet you wish you could.” Heeseung throws a fleeting smirk and wink over his shoulder before trailing back to the path back to Hogwarts. “I have a project to get back to. Don’t be a cunt when Sunoo gets here. Send me an owl when he’s here, won’t you? I want to say hi.”
Sunghoon scowls at the thought of Heeseung wanting to secretly incorporate the Nevermore kid into their friend group. It was already too much when Heeseung drew in Ni-ki like an uncontested magnetic force: and Ni-ki is one of those brazen kids that gets into trouble often. And, when he’s paired with Jay and Heeseung, there’s no telling what kind of trickery they’d get up to at night time.
Then, having some weird Nevermore kid bring a new flavor to the group? Hell no.
“You probably want to fuck him, too. Don’t you?” Sunghoon throws back, a low blow to Heeseung’s reputation of getting around the student body like a crazed sex demon.
“Hell,” Heeseung laughs and raises his hands in the air. “I would if I could. He rejected me that night at Nevermore.”
⚡︎⚡︎⚡︎
The chariot lands with a whisper of hooves on the cobblestone weathered from the many years the building had survived the wheel of time, the air filled with the faint caw of a crow wheeling overhead: Sunoo’s companion he cherishes. The ancient turrets of Hogwarts loom against the night sky, lanterns glowing in a kind of welcome that Sunoo would never had expected from Hogwarts.
Initially, he was convinced that Hogwarts was this grand castle: rainbows, sunshine, magic weaves that dance across the air like butterflies caught in the drift of a summer breeze. But, now that he’s personally up close and present at the very front of it all: it looks like a war college prepared to fight off the endless torment of the Darkness.
Sunoo steps down from the chariot carefully, his hand in the chariot master’s and black cloak brushing the ground. His glasses catch the torchlight as he glances up at the towering gates: an unnerving sensation curdling inside him like a witch’s brew with the wrong ingredients tossed into the cauldron. His face is pale with both nerves and the weariness of travel, but his presence draws attention immediately, Jungwon catching the sight of him immediately after coming through the slowly opening gates—and he comes to realize Sunoo looks exactly as the rumors described: dark, elegant, untouchable.
In tow behind Jungwon is Jay, the class president and advisor assigned to Sunoo for the few days: tasked with getting him to classes and making sure he integrates well into the new environment.
“Welcome to Hogwarts,” he says gently. “I’m Jay, class president and this is Jungwon, vice president. We’ll be showing you around tonight!”
Jungwon greets him next, his smile warm, eyes crinkling with the charm of someone used to putting new students at ease. “We’ve been expecting you. The Headmaster’s arranged everything, but first—how about we get you settled into Ravenclaw Tower? Show you the dorm you’ll be staying at.”
Jay sends Jungwon a sidewards glance, hesitant about whether or not to show Sunoo to his room first knowing that Sunghoon went back after the duel gone awry from earlier today. Jungwon doesn’t quite catch the warning glance, and ushers for Sunoo to follow him with a warm sway of his hand.
Sunoo nods, barely speaking, his fingers tightening around the handle of his small suitcase. His silence is not from rudeness but from the faint tremor of being watched, measured, and whispered about before he’s even stepped inside. He knows very well about the tainted reputation of Nevermore that’s been uttered through this halls ever since the dawn of time.
Things like: Nevermore kids are freakshow accidents whose parents sent them off for proper conditioning. Or even Sunoo’s favorite, the kids who meddle in the dark without consequence and find themselves developmentally behind. The latter is always funny to him, being that he’s been the smartest person he’s ever met—and he’s met many people. It’s not overconfidence, if anything, it’s disappointing to him that he has yet to meet someone with a brain behind their thoughtless eyes.
“This is the entrance hall,” Jay says as he opens the door for Sunoo to walk through, the faint smell of pumpkin wood and apple spice following the Nevermore kid. “To the left is the reception hall, and the other side is the courtyard. I know it’ll get confusing, I’ll have a map for you this evening after you get your course calendar set up with the Headmaster.”
Jungwon closes the door behind them and offers some measure of sympathy, “I got lost at least four time my first week here. Jay had to come find me. It got to a point where he put a locator’s ward on my necklace.”
Sunoo smiles faintly, trying to find light in the conversation, but the truth is that everything is crashing in all at once: the massive size of the campus, the idea that no one will truly help him because he’s just a “freakshow from Nevermore”, and that he knows absolutely no one aside from these two—and even these two are giving him a fake, warm welcome.
“Follow us this way, Sunoo.” Jay says, and Sunoo flinches at the sound of his name coming from him—it sounded experimental, maybe even the slightest bit foreign. Like he were speaking a language he tried learning an hour before the two fo them met, and if feels more disrespectful than it does anything else.
But, Sunoo knows he’s just overthinking. Right?
He follows them to a spiral staircase that ascends so high that the stairs narrow into an endpoint Sunoo can’t seem to make out.
“Below the Ravenclaw tower is Athenaeum, has all the books you’ll pick up before classes and stuff. Then, there’s a tunnel that connects to the Astronomy tower. I heard you’re into astronomy!” Jungwon tries to break the ice of the situation, but he feels like a deer on top of a frozen lake losing his footing every second he cant seem to grasp a hold of Sunoo’s attention.
Jungwon tries to brush off the awkwardness by trying to convince himself it’s just the Nevermore kid’s nerves getting the best of him and rendering Sunoo silent. To his surprise, Sunoo looks at him in the eyes—truly looks at him in the eyes, with an attention he’s never earned from any new student ever before.
“I am, actually. A lot.” Sunoo answers, his voice soft like a melancholy breeze caught traveling through the sprucewood trees of an empty forest. “Beneath this tower, then through the tunnel?”
“Yeah! I can show you tomorrow if you’d like? Astronomy is closed off after midnight because of—”
“Running the supposed risk of challenging the fates with an open portal.” Sunoo finishes eagerly for him, his new found anticipation drawing his voice out more like a man guiding a serpent with a flute. “We don’t have that rule at Nevermore, it’s been proven faulty and fueled by patriarchy, but I’ll respect the rules while I’m here.”
“Really?” Jay asks, looking over his shoulder down to Sunoo who is a couple steps behind him. “It’s not real?’
“No,” Sunoo shakes his head, the hair on his forehead swaying with him. “People believed Pollux, the trickster of the Gemini Twins. In reality, he just didn’t want women in their business because it’s a female dominated practice.”
“Wow,” Jay nods in surprise. “You know a lot about astronomy.”
“It was one of my majors at Nevermore.”
“One of them?” Jungwon continues the conversation with a shrill in his voice like an addict finally getting a dosage of what he craved for. It’s true that Jungwon is obsessed with conversation, but he can’t help himself—the newcomer is handsome, and his voice is soft. A couple doses of Sunoo couldn’t hurt.
“Yeah,” Sunoo nods and fixes his hair from off his eyes. “I enrolled in three—”
“Three!?” Jay and Jungwon exclaim in unison. It’s rare to find someone enrolled in two majors, some barely can handle a major and a minor here at Hogwarts, so it’s unheard of to see someone with three majors.
“Astronomy, Tarot, and Potions.”
“Wow. That’s actually insane,” Jungwon says, jaw practically on the floor. “Hogwarts caps off students at two majors. Too much course load for them. I don’t know if the Headmaster will honor you taking three majors here.”
“Only time will tell,” Sunoo frowns. The thought if shaving off from his courseload upsets him, he’s too attached to the three he’s chosen and has already gotten used to the heaviness of the work he receives. If anything, he needs it to keep himself occupied; being booked and busy has always been something he needed to keep himself feel steady against the rocking waves of the world’s unpredictable ocean of doubt.
“We’re in the Ravenclaw tower now,” Jay announces and he pushes through the sturdy doors gilded with blue and silver—all coming together to form a masterpiece of a spacious, midnight sky. “At the end of the hall is your dorm room, you’ll be paired with another student if you don’t mind. Ravenclaw is a pretty empty House compared to all the others, so even if there were empty rooms . . . they’re likely used for storage.”
“Sorry.” Jungwon shrugs, but Sunoo smiles in return.
Sunoo follows, his steps soft on the carpeted floor, until he reaches the door Jay gestures toward.
In all honestly, Sunoo is fine with sharing a room with someone. He shared a room back at Nevermore for some time before he was promoted to valedictorian shortly after his arrival. Being valedictorian at Nevermore earned you the penthouse room: behind the grand midnight clock that oversees the entire campus.
Jay knocks sturdily against the doorway of the room. Enchanted into the door’s wood is a plaque with the name: Park Sunghoon and - empty - .
The door opens slowly a moment later, showing Sunghoon’s head before anything else. From the door being barely open, he only spots Jay and half of Jungwon’s body, and deeming it safe to open all the way, the door swings open to reveal Sunghoon clad in only a towel around his waist and damp hair dangling over his brows with water still falling from the ends.
When the door is fully ajar, Sunhoon’s eyes connect with the newcomer. For a suspended moment, the two just stare at each other—Sunghoon with startled, sharp eyes that quickly narrow with irritation at being interrupted, Sunoo with wide ones hidden faintly behind the glint of his glasses at the surprise of being greeted with the Ravenclaw’s bare, toned chest and a towel that hangs dangerously low on his hips. The faintest of a wind would blow off the fabric and reveal what’s underneath.
“I’m sorry, Sunoo—” Jay sighs and throws Sunghoon a disappointed look.
“What?” Sunghoon returns confidently, a cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he finds the stranger looking elsewhere to avoid the situation.
The towel hangs loosely from his hips, knotted carelessly at the side, the fabric clinging to him just enough to suggest how much is hidden beneath. His torso is lean but sculpted, skin still damp from the shower, droplets catching the candlelight as they trail over the ridges of his abdomen. His collarbones are sharp, his shoulders broad, the cut of his waist tapering cleanly to where the towel rests dangerously low.
Even with the lack of lighting, the mound is visible—the curve of shading further accentuating it like a mountain hiding the sun behind it. It leaves little to the imagination, even it beckons Sunoo, but he finds a way to avoid it by counting bricks on the wall.
“How modest.” Jay coughs into his fist. “I’m sorry, Sunoo—”
“Sunoo?” Sunghoon’s eyes pop open even wider now that the name comes out revealing the stranger clad in black. His eyes swoop up and down the boy’s body from head to toe, taking in every aspect of him like security at the gates of Hogwarts campus parties making sure no one is sneaking in alcohol.
Sunoo stands like prey before a predator: his eyes hidden behind the tinting of his glasses and body concealed by a long black coat. Beneath the clothes, Sunghoon can tell he harbors nothing dangerous: no muscle power that could strangle him in the middle of the night, no weapons concealed in his sleeves that Nevermore kids would use to sacrifice their roommates to the devil.
All in all, he’s seemingly harmless.
Sunghoon’s lips part as though to say anything, then press back into a tight line of aloofness. His chest rises and falls once, the muscles in his arms tensing as if bracing himself against the sudden intrusion. He doesn’t move to cover himself—he simply stands there, confident in the raw, unguarded state he’s been caught in.
“Sunghoon, why don’t you actually greet him?” Jungwon orders through teeth gritted into a forced smile. “Make a good first impression.”
“I don’t want a roommate.”
“Oh, woe is you, Park Sunghoon.” Jay raises his finger and gestures unkindly for Sunghoon to be pleasant. “Formalities. Now.”
“Nice to meet you.” Sunghoon nods, voice without tone like the flatline of a monitor.
“Likewise.” Sunoo returns smally, trying not to let his eyes stray from Sunghoon’s—he doesn’t want to be a pervert, but the idea of what rests below the shadow of Sunghoon’s collarbone entices him like a moth to a flame. But, if there’s one thing everyone should know about Sunoo, it’s that he is more strongwilled than that of a lifeless rock: no temptation could ever swallow him whole.
“Jay, do you guys mind?” His voice is low, edged, carrying the kind of disdain that’s meant to cut. “I have to get to sleep.”
“Ah,” Jungwon’s voice comes now as he nods his head knowingly. “Sunghoon is really strict about his sleeping schedule. So that—”
“So that means when you came in here later, I better not hear a single sound. So, if you have things to put in here, do it now.” Sunghoon says with a repressed anger in his tone, but it seeps out just enough to serve as a warning for Sunoo.
“Right.” Sunoo nods his head, his eyes trailing over to the suitcase in his hands. “I’ll just—” he pauses, motioning for the doorway with his eyes still glued elsewhere, “I’ll just put this down, then.”
Jay motions for Sunghoon to get out of the doorway, and he abides to everyone’s surprise. He shifts ever so slightly to grant a narrow space for Sunoo to squeeze through, in which the newcomer finds himself taking in a sharp breath before tentatively squeezing in. With no choice, Sunoo angles his suitcase and squeezes past Sunghoon, his shoulder brushing the bare skin of Sunghoon’s chest.
The contact is fleeting, but it leaves a sharp awareness lingering in the air. Sunoo ducks his head quickly, murmuring a muted, “Sorry,” as he slips through the narrow gap. Jay notices the exchange, earning Sunghoon another glare, but the Ravenclaw only returns a quip smirk as he rests his arms over his damp chest.
Sunoo steadies his suitcase beside the empty bed at the far end of the room. Finally able to breathe, he lifts his gaze and takes in his new surroundings. The room is huge, almost as large as the valedictorian suite back at Nevermore. Sunoo can’t help but find himself taking in the entire room as though his eyes were starved for any sight of hospitality.
The Ravenclaw dormitory is unlike anything he’s known at Nevermore. Blue and bronze banners drape the walls, the fabric embroidered with constellations that glimmer faintly in the lamplight. A grand circular window dominates the wall behind his bed, looking out over the moonlit castle grounds. Shelves of books line every corner, crammed with spell manuals, journals, and the odd enchanted trinket buzzing faintly with magic—but his side is barren, so he knows very well that the decor likely belongs to Sunghoon, so he doesn’t dare to trek his fingertips over the bindings of the books.
The space set aside for him feels untouched, as though it has been waiting. A desk polished smooth, blank parchment stacked neatly on its surface. A wardrobe standing open, empty hangers swaying gently from the drift coming in through an open window. The bedspread is deep blue, tucked and folded with meticulous care, almost in a welcoming way though it’s seemingly abandoned.
Sunoo lingers a moment longer, his eyes flicking again toward the window, the banners, the careful preparation that feels too generous for someone like him. But when he turns, he finds Sunghoon still watching him, arms crossed now over his damp chest, a faint scowl etched into his otherwise perfect features.
“You know,” Sunghoon says coolly, voice low and edged with a tinge of bloodied frost, “Ravenclaw’s are supposed to be quite smart. If you’re planning to drag in a singular bag with nothing, that’s not a very good impression.” His eyes dip once toward the suitcase, then back up to meet Sunoo’s. “Maybe you’re just not a ravenclaw. Usually the people in this house are well prepared and—”
“Enough,” Jay interrupts and the silence after word comes with finality. His eyes find Sunghoon’s with a rage unreadable by the newcomer, and suddenly the room drops a couple degrees; the drift from the open window more apparent than before, colder even in the slightest way.
The words land sharp, like they’re meant to. Sunoo blinks, lips pressing into a thin line as he instinctively drops his gaze to the floor. Whatever ease he had felt moments before evaporates, replaced by the familiar cold of retreat.
“That’s enough of the Ravenclaw tower for now before you come back for the evening, Sunoo.” He reaches out gently for Sunoo’s arm, pulling him gently back toward the hall. “Come on, we’ll head down to the Headmaster and sort your schedule. It’ll likely take some time with the credits transfer, so by the time you come back it’ll be . . . quieter.” As they step into the corridor, Jay glances over his shoulder toward Jungwon, who’s still perched in the doorway, half his body illuminated from the soft fire lit in the hearth. “Jungwon, do me a favor and whip Sunghoon into shape while I’m gone. He’s already being an asshole.”
Jungwon smirks without looking up. “When isn’t he?”
Sunghoon bristles, muttering under his breath as he turns back into the dormitory, but his eyes linger for a second longer on the space where Sunoo had been standing, his suitcase tucked neatly into the corner like he belonged there, whether Sunghoon wanted to admit it or not. It’s something he will have to come to terms with, because this is the harsh reality he must survive from this evening moving onward.
The stone staircases shift and creak as Jay guides Sunoo through the winding corridors, the faint glow of lanterns and levitating candles throwing long shadows across the walls. Sunoo keeps his hands clasped tight around the hems of his sleeves, gaze mostly lowered to the floor as his footsteps echo alongside Jay’s.
As always, Jay fills the silence. “Don’t take Sunghoon’s attitude too seriously. He’s just broody and whatnot. Likes his space a bit too much, focuses too much on academics, barely has time to learn how to socialize. You know?”
Sunoo hums softly in response, still shaken from before. Jay notices it, and tries to offer a reassuring smile, but the Nevermore kid’s eyes never leave the floor. At this rate, he’ll never learn the halls if his eyes remained glued to the carpets.
They stop before the great stone griffon that guards the spiral staircase to the Headmaster’s Tower. Jay speaks the password, Starfall, and the griffon leaps aside, revealing the staircase unfurling upward like the innards of a gutted serpent.
“Here we are,” Jay says, gesturing Sunoo inside with a gentle hand at the small of his back. “Headmaster will want to meet you before classes start tomorrow. Don’t be nervous, he’s got a soft spot for brilliance and you’re surely equipped with that.”
The stairwell deposits them into a circular office bathed in golden light. Shelves of rare tomes and odd magical instruments clutter the walls, and a phoenix perches proudly near the window, its feathers shimmering faintly. Behind a vast oak desk sits the Headmaster, his eyes bright with curiosity as they fall upon Sunoo.
“Welcome to Hogwarts, Sunoo.” The Headmaster comes to a stand and rounds his grand desk, gesturing towards one of the gilded chairs before him. “It’s truly an honor to welcome you here. Mistress Weems spoke very highly of you numerous times, and she hasn’t lied once.”
Sunoo stiffens, unsure what to do with the praise. Does he smile? Does he say anything? He looks to Jay, who only smiles unknowingly in return.
The Headmaster continues, eyes searching him with a strange, almost expectant weight. “Your marks are impeccable. Your specialty in charms and rune-work is… frankly, extraordinary. And this note—” He lifts a parchment, spectacles sliding down his nose. “That you’ve performed independent research into familiars and binding magic? If there were a place more prestigious than here, I’d send you there. Incredible.”
Jay guides him to one of the chairs, “Sunoo, you can sit here. I’ll return in some time to bring you back to your room.”
Sunoo follows obediently, depositing himself onto the gilded chair with a careful, prudent speed. Like a child following a drifting moth with a net over their shoulder, tip toeing until the perfect moment presents itself to swoop down and make it their captive.
The Headmaster studies him for another beat, noticing his apprehension, then gestures to the parchment of courses spread neatly on the desk. “Let’s talk about your schedule. I think we can make something worthy of your brilliance, can’t we?”
“Alright.” Sunoo nods, his knees pressing together as he wrings his fingers like trying to get every last drop out of a wet rag.
“Let’s start simple, shall we?” The professor tilts his spectacle more snug under the curve of his brow. “Do you have your wand?”
“I don’t have one.” Sunoo shakes his head, and the answer takes Headmaster by surprise.
“How did you cast spells?”
“I don’t prefer to perform combat magic.” Sunoo sinks into the chair, as though the answer he gave will set him back a couple steps as an academic weapon.
“Have you before?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Without a wand?”
“Right.”
“Interesting,” his tugs at his beard, almost enough of a cliche to muster a laugh from Sunoo, but the Nevermore boy refrains. “Never heard of someone spellslinging without a wand. I’ll have you visit Hogsmeade tomorrow afternoon. This might be overwhelming, but with this schedule I have in mind, you’ll be performing your skills assessment right after you get your wand. Which, might I add, isn’t ideal because you won’t have much time to attune to your instrument.”
“Will that hinder my placement and scoring? I don’t want to lose points.”
“No, it’s only a baseline assessment. I’m afraid it will feel quite otherworldly considering everyone’s eyes are on you, but, I have no doubt you’ll prove yourself just fine.” He preamables. “I understand you had three majors back at Nevermore, do you truly wish to continue that here?”
“I do.” Sunoo answers, then adds, “if you allow.”
“I’ve never been one to hold a student back on their endeavors, especially not one as brilliant as you. I’ll allow it so long as you perform well.” The Headmaster nods approvingly and summons a quill to his side, in which handlessly starts writing on parchment at his will. “Tarot, Potions, and Astronomy. Correct?”
“Yes, that’s right.” Sunoo nods, finding himself scooting to the edge of the chair to catch a glimpse of what the quill is writing. It’s jotting down notes in a uniform formatting, writing down a schedule into a shaped calendar inked into the parchment.
“Looks like you share some classes with your roommate, Park Sunghoon. He’s a double major—Combats and Astronomy.” The Headmaster takes note, then warns Sunoo. “Sunghoon is a very ambitious boy, so I hope he doesn’t give you troubles. If the arrangement is truly not convenient for you, and I mean truly unbearable, I can find a work around. But I have a feeling the two of you will be good for each other.”
“I understand.”
“Do you, Kim Sunoo?” The Headmaster tilts his head to the side at the slightest angle with narrowed eyes as he clasps his hands onto the desk before him. The quill drops lifelessly beside him, dead as a starved root of a tree. “Because you just replaced him as the valedictorian.”