Chapter Text
The confined greenhouse air felt more humid and stuffy than normal. Jisung could feel his uniform begin to stick to his skin. Rubbing his sweaty palms against his trousers, he glanced at his friend. Sungchan—who was walking beside him to their next class—looked stiff but his features remained relaxed, unlike Jisung who had absolute dread etched into his face.
“I hate partner work,” he grumbled under his breath.
Sungchan laughed, his shoulders lifting into an apologetic shrug. “Don’t worry, it’s just the Potions students.”
As if that was meant to comfort Jisung, he didn’t know anyone in the class which was why he’d been so antsy after Professor Lea, their teacher in Advanced Herbology, had announced they’d be combining with the students in Advanced Potion-making on a semester-long project. She had handed them all parchments that outlined the details and expectations of the project, content that Jisung had probably read over about a thousand times in the past day. At first, they had started the school year with weekly assignments where they researched and planted certain fungi or greenery. Meant to prepare them for the N.E.W.T.s, it had been grueling. Sungchan complained about them the most and Jisung didn’t enjoy them either, but now he found himself longing for them. Anything would be better to him than a semester project with a stranger.
When Jisung voiced his complaints to the Hufflepuff beside him, his friend laughed again. Sungchan’s gaze fell onto the ground, eyes brimming with amusement which earned him a dig in the ribs from Jisung’s elbow. They had left the greenhouses and begun to make their way over to the Potions room.
“Shut it,” he grumbled under his breath as Sungchan continued to chuckle. He was tall, taller than Jisung, but they carried themselves much differently. Despite them both suffering from horrid posture, Jisung was graceful in the places Sungchan was gawky. So as the taller stumbled from his playful shove, Jisung instinctively had one hand on his elbow to steady him before he crashed into some poor, unsuspecting first year.
“Who were you partnered with anyways?”
“I’m not sure…” There weren’t many student names that Jisung could recognize outside of his own house. There was no prejudice he held against them, he simply only ever found himself making friends in the warmth of the Hufflepuff common room. He had made a few non-Hufflepuff acquaintances from his classes—typically charming Gryffindors—but never found himself able to call them more than just that, acquaintances . Jisung slowed briefly to pull a rolled parchment from his bag, his assignment. He jogged a few steps to fall back into step with Sungchan as they turned a corner. Sungchan took the parchment from his hands, tugging on the end of the small string that held it together. As it unrolled, his name appeared at the top. Directly below were four words: Assigned Partner - Zhong Chenle.
That was a name Jisung certainly couldn’t recognize. Sungchan didn’t seem to have the same problem.
“Oh, that’s not bad at all.” He nodded to himself in approval. “I hear he’s nice.”
Jisung’s head tilted in confusion earning him a critical eye from Sungchan. “You know him?”
“You don’t?”
Before Jisung could respond, he noticed that they’d reached the Potions room. It was a much closer walk from the Hufflepuff common room than the greenhouses were, but it certainly wasn’t one he enjoyed—he could feel the hashbrowns he had for breakfast churn in his stomach. Jisung wasn’t very fond of potion-making. He much preferred to grind and mix plants without any additional magical properties. He had heard the tale once of a seventh year with a rumored sixth toe after a failed polyjuice attempt and has since been put off. The slightest miscalculation of an ingredient as simple as knotgrass could result in much worse than just an extra digit. Reluctantly, he followed Sungchan in with a sigh. Before Jisung could so much as scan his surroundings, a voice called out to him.
“Jisung! Park Jisung, right here!”
Whipping around, Jisung spots a wizard grinning at him brightly. He’s risen from his seat, leaning against the table to catch his attention. The boy laughs loudly and raises a hand, waving at him.
“Looks like you found your partner,” Sungchan chuckles. Jisung’s mouth pulled into a grimace. He slowly made his way over to the boy, dodging other students as they clamored around. It was the most crowded he had ever seen the room. Potions class had always been a small one, with only eight tables or so, there were never more than twenty students. But with the additional Herbology class, it had nearly doubled in size and Jisung thought it felt stuffy.
“I’m Chenle.” The boy stuck his hand out in greeting. Jisung glanced at the parchment in his hands, confirming that he was, indeed, his partner. Chenle’s gaze remained on him, dark strands of hair nearly covering his eyes and he continued to smile at him. Jisung hesitantly clasped his outstretched hand in his own and began to introduce himself. However, before he could utter a word, Chenle’s hand jerked away and the boy let out an awful sneeze. It was loud and sudden, startling Jisung and forcing an involuntary flinch from him.
“I’m so sorry,” Chenle yelped. Jisung smiled and brought his hands up to his chest, assuring him that he was fine.
“We should probably get started.”
Chenle nodded, his brown hair bouncing with the movement. He dropped his bag onto the ground and seated himself on a stool across from the brunet. He looked back up to see Chenle aggressively rubbing at his nose, sniveling loudly.
“Are you alright?”
His question seemed to have startled the Gryffindor boy seeing as he jolted to an upright position in his seat. “Huh? Oh, yes! Just a bit of bad allergies.”
“I see,” Jisung nodded. He wanted to look back down at the papers he had splayed onto the table, but his gaze held involuntarily on his new partner. Chenle’s eyes were puffy and red along with the tip of his nose, a red nearly as deep as the shade lined in the robes that he and the rest of the Gryffindor house sported. He had looked cheery and healthy from across the room just moments before, so Jisung couldn't understand his sudden change in image. It took one more pitiful snivel from Chenle for Jisung to dig a hand into his satchel, pulling out a handkerchief from a pocket he kept hidden as he sighed. It was a small square cloth with three initials on a corner of the fabric. PJS threaded in yellow and silver, his house colors. It was from his mother, a gift he received during his third year. Jisung avoided using it out of sentiment, but at that moment, the Gryffindor in front of him looked like he needed it more than Jisung ever would have.
Clearing his throat, Jisung held the cloth out with two hands. As soon as Chenle understood his action, he began thanking him profusely.
“Thank you so much, I don’t-” he babbled on, his eyes opening wide as he nodded vigorously. Jisung had mostly tuned him out after being thanked for the fifth time in a single sentence. He kept a smile plastered out of politeness, but he still couldn’t help but wince when the boy blew his nose into his beloved handkerchief.
Jisung felt himself beginning to dread the rest of the semester.
If Jisung had thought the first time he met Zhong Chenle was gauche, the second time was much worse. That next day, Jisung had rushed over to the Potions classroom with Sungchan at his side. Jisung hadn’t gotten much work done the day before, but he was ready to present his idea on the project to his partner.
It was an easy assignment in Jisung’s eyes. The Herbology student in the group would create and nurture a poisonous plant and the Potions student was meant to create a concoction or cure that would counter its harmful effects. It would take time, but the quicker he could get started, the sooner he could finish—and the sooner he was done, the better. As long as he doesn’t accidentally poison himself in the process, of course.
Jisung, however, doesn’t get the chance to share his idea for the project. He barely gets past greeting Chenle a good morning when the boy shot up from his seat. He let out a sudden sneeze that was barely contained in the elbow of his robe. The sneeze seemed to have startled them both because Chenle looked back at him with a horrified expression.
“Oh hell, man- I’m sorry. I have to leave.” Jisung remained frozen from confusion. He watched silently as Chenle began scooping his supplies from the table into his arms and dumped them into his bag. “I need to leave, right now. I- I,” he spluttered.
Jisung struggled to keep up with the boy’s movements, his eyes moving back and forth in confusion. However, with Chenle’s haste, his arm knocked into a mug just barely, but enough to tip it over. Its hot, brown liquid pouring into Jisung’s lap and burning into his thighs. With a yelp, he jumped up from his spot.
“Shit, shit.” Chenle’s bewilderment matched his own for a moment. However, instead of receiving any help from the cause of the entire mess, all Jisung was met with was a helpless expression from the boy. Without a word, Chenle dodged past him and was out of the room in seconds, leaving Jisung there, jaw slacked and staring at the spot the Gryffindor had just been moments ago.
Just then, a sudden stench hit Jisung’s nose coming directly from his soaked lap. He breathed it in with a shudder. Coffee. Oh how Jisung hated the smell of it. He was already confused and angry, but now (worst of all), he reeked of coffee.
With another shaky breath, Jisung found himself reaching into his bag for a handkerchief that wasn’t there anymore.
On the third official day of their project, Jisung finds himself with many things to be grateful for. First of all, it’s a Friday. Caught up with all his work, Jisung would have the weekend to himself, free to curl up in his bed in the Hufflepuff burrow for as long as he pleased.
Secondly, when Jisung arrived at the Potions classroom—dragging his feet behind Sungchan—he was surprised to find that Chenle had not shown up. Instead, as Jisung approached their designated table, a paper note materialized in front of Jisung’s face. Written in slanted handwriting read:
Jisung, I apologize but I won’t be able to make it to these meetings anymore. Scheduling conflicts, you know? Please respond with your choice for the project and I’ll start on my part immediately. If there’s anything you ever need to discuss, you know where to find me.
The Gryffindor’s name paired with a lopsided smiley face was signed at the bottom. Jisung couldn’t help but question the note, it was odd. Firstly, he did not know where to find Chenle. Second, Jisung couldn’t help but think it was partially his fault. Had he done something he was unaware of? Either way, Jisung couldn’t help but feel slightly thankful for the way it turned out. He had been dreading working with Chenle after their last encounter. Working separately might just be more efficient.
Silently, Jisung grabbed the note gently from the air and pressed it to the table. In a quick movement, he scribbled the word wolfsbane on the back in response. It was an obvious plant and one he had in mind for the assignment the day it had been assigned. It was also one of the easiest choices, despite being highly dangerous. As soon as his pencil lifted from the word, the paper rolled itself back up with a snap and disappeared into thin air. Jisung sighed. It must have been charmed to return to Chenle as soon as Jisung received his message and responded.
With this new arrangement, Jisung doesn’t expect to see Chenle for quite a while. He is, as usual, quite wrong.
Jisung can’t seem to escape Chenle. Despite no longer meeting with him to work on their project, Chenle suddenly appeared to be everywhere he hadn’t been before. Jisung could simply be passing through a shortcut in the courtyard, a path he’d taken thousands of times across all his years as a student, and there Chenle would be. He was always grinning, always surrounded by a group of fellow Gryffindors, always laughing over some stupid prank one of them pulled, but most frighteningly, he always spotted Jisung. Jisung existed outside of Chenle’s bubble of boyhood, he didn’t laugh or joke with them. He’d pass by with his head down instead, completely invisible to them and vice versa. Jisung never took note of them, he hadn’t ever been able to recognize any of them as classmates he knew. It was different now that he could recognize Chenle’s blithe face from across a courtyard. It should’ve been harder to spot him than Jisung found it to be. Through the crowds of hundreds of similarly robed wizards, it should’ve been impossible to distinguish Zhong Chenle from the midst, but it wasn’t. It certainly didn’t help that the Gryffindor had striking features and booming laughter that echoed in Jisung’s mind. It didn’t help at all.
There wasn’t a single path Jisung could take where he didn’t find Chenle in the same vicinity as him as if they were chained together by a twenty-foot rope. And every time, Chenle would look at him. Their eyes would meet and Jisung would instantly turn away. He’d focus his gaze on his polished leather shoes as he hurriedly passed, or he’d turn around completely, opting to take the longer route to his next class.
The few times Jisung was late to break their gaze, Chenle’s eyes would light up. He was typically already smiling, but when he spotted Jisung, a new spark lit in his eyes and his grin widened. On days that Jisung was especially slow in looking away, Chenle would wave. With one arm hugging his school books, the other high in the air waving frantically above the heads of thirty other students. And every time, Jisung would ignore him. He didn’t like the newfound attention he was receiving from someone like Chenle, it only caused him distress.
Jisung probably should have felt bad, especially in the moments when Chenle would step away from his group to approach him. Jisung would pretend he hadn’t heard him and quicken his pace as he marched away until he eventually lost him in the crowd.
Jisung wasn’t prone to hysterics, but something about Hogwarts at night never failed to put him on edge. Its gothic architecture came to life in the dark with its never-ending corridors, looming arches, and ribbed arches that cast mean shadows under the moonlight. He involuntarily shivered. It was one of the many reasons Jisung often refused to venture past the comfort of his common room after curfew, so he wasn’t surprised at all he began to hear things. It was late at night, nearing midnight most likely but he wasn’t alone. Sungchang had dragged him along to join four or so other Hufflepuffs up to the bell towers for a smoke.
After hearing the noise the third time, Jisung halted. Sensing his stop, Jeno turned back to him.
“Everything alright?”
Jisung nodded slowly, unsure of himself. Then, there it was again. A whine sounded so softly Jisung had to strain his ears to catch it. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “I just need to check something.”
Jeno’s head tilted at him. “Want me to wait for you?”
“No, no. I’ll be alright. I’ll catch up in a moment.”
That seemed to be enough of a dismissal for Jeno who simply shrugged and turned away with his hands in his pockets. The noise echoed for the fourth time and Jisung moved to follow it. He turned a corner into a hall that he recognized would lead him to the Astronomy Wing. It could’ve also led him directly to the mouth of the Gryffindor Tower if he had followed it far enough.
The fifth time he heard the noise, it was much closer and recognizable. Was it a meow? The corridor was significantly darker than the one he had just been in. Before, he had been relying on the moonlight pouring through the lofty windows. Lighting his way by wand was a sure way to get caught by a tattling prefect.
Jisung’s eyes squinted in the dark, waiting for the noise to sound again. Just as he was about to give up and light his wand, something furry brushed past his ankles. He nearly screamed. One hand flew to cover his mouth, muffling the yelp that let out, his other hand yanking out his wand.
Meow.
Pointing his wand down, a fluffy ball of ginger hair stared back up at him. A cat, great. Jisung released a long sigh as his heartbeat slowly dropped back to a comfortable rate. He knelt down, rubbing circles behind the creature’s ears earning a purr in response.
“Now, what are you doing out here alone?” He asked with a hum, not truly expecting an answer.
All of the sudden, the sound of footsteps echoed, sending Jisung into a panic. Oh, how he hated dealing with prefects. The light from his wand went out and he instinctively scooped the cat into his arms, who thankfully did not protest his actions.
“Wait, stop!” the voice called. Jisung had been seen. Not knowing what to do, he remained frozen in the shadows. “Who’s there?” the person was much closer than Jisung had expected, but why did the voice sound familiar? When the other wizard lit his wand, it illuminated them both.
“Jisung?”
He remained frozen, eyes blown wide like a deer in headlights. “Chenle?” He’d have rather it been a prefect than this.
“Why…” the Gryffindor stared at him, looking unsure of what he was seeing. “Why are you stealing my cat?”
Jisung glanced down at the cat cradled in his arms, having forgotten she was there. “I-I didn’t! She came to me. I didn’t know she was yours,” he blurted. The cat leaped from his arms and found her way to Chenle’s feet, twisting beside him just as she’d done to Jisung.
“That’s alright, it’s just that I’ve been searching all over the castle for her.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Jisung didn’t even know what he was apologizing for. The two stood silently, neither knowing what to do or say until Chenle finally spoke up.
“Were you headed somewhere?”
“Oh, just back to my room.”
“I’ll walk you!”
The request caught Jisung off guard. Why on earth would Chenle do such a thing? “No, it’s alright. I’d hate to trouble you,” Jisung declined as politely as he could. The Hufflepuff rooms were halfway across the castle, unlike the Gryffindor Tower.
Chenle waved his hands in front of him laughing, “I insist! It’s no trouble, I was on my way down to the kitchen anyway.”
“The kitchens?” Jisung’s brows raised.
“I believe all this chasing,” he gently prodded his cat’s side with his shoe and a smirk, “has earned me a snack or two, don’t you think?”
“Admitting to thievery, now are we?” Jisung teased. He didn’t know where it had come from, being rather uncharacteristic of him, but it had earned him a laugh from Chenle. It was much easier to ignore the boy when there was a crowd of students between them. Being one on one with him like this left an unsettling feeling inside him. He certainly wasn’t acting himself.
Silently, the two fell into step together descending the castle. Jisung hadn’t failed to notice the considerable amount of space between them.
Eventually, Chenle cleared his throat. “Will you be at the match this Thursday?”
“Match?”
“The Quidditch match. We’re playing Slytherin.”
“I didn’t know you played. Are you any good?”
He watched as Chenle turned away with a scowl, the tips of his ear reddening in a telltale sign of his embarrassment. “I’m no seeker, just a chaser.”
“Chasers play an important role,” Jisung murmured. Neither of them said anything after that. They fell back into their odd atmosphere of silence. Jisung didn’t mind it, it wasn’t as uncomfortable as he’d expected. Occasionally, he’d glance over at the Gryffindor to check if he was still there. Sure enough, he was, with a wide grin plastered on his face as if there was a secret joke playing that only he could hear. He looked joyous, smiling to himself as he mindlessly stroked the fur of his cat (who he had picked up in fear of her getting lost again).
It wasn’t until they’d passed the Great Hall and descended the first set of steps that Chenle spoke again. They had reached the level where the kitchens were, just a set of stairs above the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room. Chenle must have respected the house’s privacy for he went no further.
“Well, off to the kitchens I go,” Chenle hummed, beaming once again with his secretive smile. “Would you like me to bring you anything before you head in?”
“No, thank you. Stolen food doesn’t tend to sit well in my stomach at night,” Jisung teased.
Chenle scowled playfully. “Suit yourself. I’ll be enjoying a pocketful of cookies and a nice steaming cup of coffee.”
“Coffee?” Jisung asked incredulously. “At this hour?”
Chenle flashed a lopsided grin. “The caffeine helps me sleep.”
Jisung scoffed. “Yeah, right. I’m sure it does.”
“I swear it! It puts me to sleep like a baby.”
Jisung couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped him. “Yeah, yeah. Off you go,” he chuckled, waving him off.
Chenle began to turn to the kitchen entrance before he spun back around. “Oh, I almost forgot!” Jisung watched as Chenle dug a hand into the pocket of his robes, retrieving Jisung’s beloved handkerchief, freshly washed and neatly folded. Jisung stared at it in shock. In truth, he had nearly forgotten he left it in the boy’s care. A weird part of Jisung told him to smell it, an urge he quickly dispelled with a cringe.
“Thank you,” he said, taking the folded cloth from the boy. Their hands met in the exchange, to which Chenle pulled back abruptly to sneeze into his elbow. Jisung winced. “Are you sure you don’t still need it?”
Chenle reddened instantly. “No,” he rasped, looking pained. He spun around to the kitchen but ended up turning back once more. “Goodnight, Jisung.”
“I believe that’s all you’ll need,” Sungchan nodded as he spoke. Jisung had asked him to help him with the planting process in his project. It was late in the evening and they were alone in the greenhouse. “Wolfsbane isn’t very hard to plant. Just add some more fertilizer and wait for the growth.”
“More fertilizer?” Jisung groaned. Dragon dung was the main fertilizer used in Herbology and he had spent years working with the material, yet he still couldn’t stand the smell of it. Sungchan on the other hand had grown noseblind to the stench and laughed whenever the younger complained.
Jisung was elbow deep in the dragon dung with a pained winced on his face when a young witch barged into the greenhouse. She was panting and seemingly distressed.
“Where’s the professor? There’s been an emergency!”
Jisung froze in momentary shock as Sungchan rushed to her side immediately. “What’s wrong? She’s not in right now.”
The young witch let out an exasperated groan. “There was a horrible accident at the quidditch match.” Jisung’s ears perked at that. Quidditch match? He had completely forgotten about it. “We don’t have enough of the medicine that they need and the Potions professor isn’t present either. Gosh, Madam Pince sent me, what am I going to tell her? This is urgent!” she ranted.
“Wait, what medicines do you need? We may have some lying around,” Sungchan pressed.
“Skele-Gro mainly, perhaps Deflating Draught as well. At this point, anything with healing properties will do.”
Jisung and Sungchan shared a look, both knowing the chances of having either of those lying around were slim.
“Look, I can gather the ingredients, but who’s gonna mix them?”
“I- I can do it,” Jisung muttered before he could hesitate. He had watched Professor Lea mix herbal medicines countless times, though she had only taught him the very basics, he was sure that he could replicate it close enough. If it was truly an emergency, he’ll have to do what he can.
“That’s perfect, thank you so much,” the witch clamored. “But please, you must hurry.”
Sungchan nodded and swiftly began collecting the ingredients, placing them in front of him. Jisung took a deep breath and pushed up the sleeves of his robes as he exhaled. He muttered a few charms under his breath and the leaves and roots chopped themselves into small pieces as Jisung manually grounded the remainders in a bowl.
After a couple more incantations and some rushed stirring, Jisung had the closest substance to Skele-Gro he could create without any proper potion-making ingredients. “This should work for now,” he affirmed as he corked the bottle.
The witch still looked slightly relieved but still as if she were on the verge of erupting with stress. “Quick, follow me.”
Jisung remained hot on her heels as she led them to the hospital wing. As soon as they reach the infirmary, he’s pushed past the double doors. Inside, Jisung was met with a storm of chaos. On the few incidents that resulted in Jisung having to visit the infirmary, the room had been still and serene as students slept off their injuries and colds. It couldn’t have been more paradoxical at the moment.
About thirty or so wizards crowded the room, ranging from professors to Quidditch players to regular students dressed to represent their houses. All the green and red clothing was evidence to it having been between Gryffindor and Slytherin. No wonder it resulted in such chaos, he grumbled to himself.
Jisung continued to trail the young witch as she weaved and pushed through the crowd until they reached Madam Pince. “We’ve brought some Skele-Gro but this was all we could manage, Madame.”
The lanky lady had responded with something and swiftly plucked the bottle out of Jisung’s grip but he hadn’t been able to hear her over the shouting and groaning so he simply nodded at her. With all the people gathered around, Jisung couldn’t tell exactly who or how many players had gotten injured but when he glanced at the nearest occupied bed he found himself frozen in horror.
Jisung was in disbelief. There was no way that could be who he thought it was. He stepped laterally for a better view through all the surrounding people only to confirm his suspicions.
It was Zhong Chenle. There Chenle was, writhing in pain in an infirmary bed groaning the loudest of everyone. His eyes were shut tight painfully and his uniform was battered and torn with red-stained patches that hadn’t been red before. Jisung watched with a wince as Madame Pince forced one of Chenle’s bones back into place, letting out the most agonizing groan.
When Chenle’s pained eyes met his own, Jisung turned and walked out.
Hell, what am I doing here? Jisung sighed to himself. He had been pacing in front of the familiar double doors of the infirmary for over five minutes. He hadn’t been able to sleep well that night. After leaving the hospital wing he had tidied the materials he had used in the greenhouse and then gone straight to the Hufflepuff basement. Seeing Chenle injured had made him unusually daunted and left him tossing and turning all night in bed. He didn't know why it had bothered him so much but when Professor Lea had mentioned delivering a proper batch of medicine, he had jumped at the opportunity. He was beginning to regret his decision now that he stood at the entrance with bottles of various potions trapped in his clutch.
With a sigh, Jisung forced himself to push past the doors. His first few steps into the infirmary echoed across the chamber. He paused. The sun hung low, still climbing its way to high noon. Broad rays of sunshine strode in through the vast glass window, casting a warm yellow haze across the infirmary. Jisung sighed, it reminded him of the greenhouse during sunrise. An abrupt sneeze caught Jisung’s attention just as he was beginning to space out. There was a sniffle and then, “Hello there.”
Glancing over, Jisung’s eyes found one of the three beds that were occupied. Chenle, only a few beds down. Jisung cleared his throat.
“Is Madam Pince in?”
His eyes had been closed before, his head tilted back onto the pillow peacefully. There was a beam of sunshine striking his face but he had turned his head away from it to face Jisung. “No, she stepped out.”
There was a beat of silence between them as Jisung nodded, unsure what to do anymore. Chenle’s head had relaxed again and his chin tilted back, his eyes fluttering shut against the sunbeams.
“Do you know when she’ll be back?”
Chenle exhaled a faint humming sound that Jisung had to strain to hear from his distance. “No clue.”
Jisung found it odd seeing Chenle this way. He was different like this. The boy on the bed covered in cuts and bruises wasn’t the same as the manic mess he had first met or the charming friend in the late-night corridors. Sighing, Jisung stepped closer to Chenle’s bed, the clacking of his uniform shoes once again echoing in the empty wing.
“Well, I’ll leave this here then. Madame Pince requested some more Skele-gro. I’m simply delivering it.” He didn’t know why he felt the need to explain himself, but he placed the bottles on the bedside stand anyway. In return, Chenle hummed a faint nose. Jisung took it as his cue to leave, but being so close to Chenle, he found himself noticing the things he hadn’t the evening prior. Before he could stop himself, Jisung had blurted out, “Holy hell, you look horrible.”
Jisung felt bad the moment the words slipped out of his mouth, so he certainly hadn’t expected Chenle to erupt in laughter. Jisung wasn’t wrong though. An ugly greenish bruise engulfed one of the boy’s eyes and a small bump adorned his temple. As he continued to laugh, the slightest red tint of his bloodstained teeth was exposed, an evident result of his torn lip. For the most part, he didn’t look so bad, or at least in comparison to the last time Jisung had seen him. Thankfully, all his bones seemed to have returned to their rightful positions.
Chenle’s laugh bubbled down into a grin as he cracked open a single eye, peeking at Jisung. “Yeah, well you should see the other guy.”
His response had taken Jisung by surprise. He should’ve expected that from Zhong Chenle. “From what I’ve heard, ‘the other guy’ was a bludger who seems to be in much better condition than you at the moment,” Jisung scoffed. Subconsciously, he reflected Chenle’s smirk in one of his own.
He watched as Chenle’s features pulled together in another fit of laughter. He watched as Chenle’s head fell back onto the pillow, still grinning. He watched as Chenle’s eyes slit closed against the beam of sunlight hitting him. He watched as the light reflected off Chenle as if he was a glass shard. He found himself admiring the slight curve of his lips and the crinkles at the corner of his eyes.
When Chenle opened his eyes again to speak Jisung instinctively lifted a hand to block the sun.
“I take it people have been talking about me?”
“They are.”
“And you’ve been listening?”
Jisung felt the tips of his ears burn. “Occasionally.”
The smirk Chenle flashed nearly sent a shiver down his spine.
For the next week, Jisung didn’t see much of the Gryffindor boy. The afternoons he didn’t labor away in the greenhouses, were spent in the Hufflepuff common room coughing up the fumes of whatever the week’s choice of herb to smoke was. The common room was—undoubtedly—his favorite part about being a Hufflepuff. He had never been inside neither the Gryffindor nor Ravenclaw towers, and he certainly had no intention of ever visiting the Slytherin dungeon, but he held with pride in his chest that the homely Hufflepuff basement was simply the best of them. With its stoned walls, beams of sunlight streaming in from the small slits of windows towards the ceiling, wooden beams supporting the stone in parallel forms, and plants adorning every corner honoring the Hufflepuff name. Some were potted and sat at window sills, others hung from the beams. To Jisung, there was no place in the world where he felt more at home than he did then, curled up against the arm of a battered yellow couch that had probably sat generations of Hufflepuffs before him, and the giant leaf of a potted plant just beside him tickling his wrist.
Jisung hadn’t caught the story Jeno was sharing to the group gathered around, he only returned to his senses when a loud bark of laughter startled him from his right side. Mark’s heavy hand landed on his knee, slapping it aggressively in his bout of laughter. Jisung winced and unexpectedly met eyes with a sharp-featured seventh year slumped in a club chair across from him. His catlike eyes caught him with an apologetic glint with a hint of amusement at Jisung’s pain. He didn’t know much about the seventh year, only having heard his name a few times in conversation, but he remembered him from the other night at the bell tower. His height had put Sungchan to shame. Mingi, was it?
In a wordless action, the boy offered the blunt casually rested between his fingers that had been passed around. He politely denied it with the shake of his head just as Mark’s grip tightened on his knee.
“And Jisung over here’s legs trembled so bad his trousers nearly fell off. He was spewing total poppycock, Professor Cin was not pleased.” Without even hearing the full story, Jisung groaned knowing exactly which incident was being retold. In his fifth year, he had been drawn into some mischief by Yerim, a current seventh-year student, and Mark as they scoured the Divination office in search of an answer key for the upcoming exam. It was a stunt Jisung really hadn’t wanted to participate in, but it was nearly impossible to ever say no to Mark and risk disappointing him. When Jisung had weighed his options between academic dishonesty and the potential of witnessing a look of disappointment on Mark’s face, Jisung found himself illuminating the room with his wand as the two upperclassmen dug through stacks of paper. When the three had gotten caught, Jisung had courageously taken the fall, but that hadn’t meant he nearly wet his trousers as the professor lectured him.
The group laughed at his misfortune and more tales of unideal incidents were shared. Jisung didn’t listen much, he’d watch the ways their mouths moved but couldn’t focus enough to register the words that left them. As the time neared dinner, they migrated the short distance upstairs to the Great Hall. Jisung fell behind purposefully, as he always did, lost in his mind while simultaneously thinking of nothing. Sungchan hated when he was like that.
Out of nowhere, two figures materialized at his sides, he hadn’t heard them approach from behind. Naturally, he startled and cursed.
A low whistle came from his left. “I didn’t know he had such a potty mouth.”
From his right: “Shut it, Yang.”
It took Jisung a solid moment to identify the person on his right as Zhong Chenle. The Gryffindor had unsurprisingly sneezed again before he flashed a grin up at him. Jisung was relieved to find him looking perfectly healthy. “Erm, hello.” He eventually recognized the figure to his left who had first spoken up, not by name though. Jisung remembered seeing him around Chenle many times, he was slim with large eyes that stuck out wryly. Yang? The name sounded unfamiliar but he nodded nonetheless.
“Good evening, Jisung,” Chenle greeted him curtly, shooting a glare past him to his friend. The two Gryffindors sandwiching him were both shorter than Jisung in stature, but the glint in Yang ’s watchful stare had him recoiling into his shell feeling intimidated.
An arm was thrown over his shoulder from the left, an arm that wasn’t Chenle’s. “You know, Sung?” Jisung felt himself redden from the informality the stranger addressed him with. “Have you heard how Chenle is destined to be alone forever?” It wasn’t much of a question as Yangyang hadn’t allowed him to reply and instead dove right into his story. Chenle groaned loudly to which Yangyang laughed brightly. Jisung relaxed underneath his arm. “A few weeks back as we were fixing up our amortentia, there was so much drama. Chenle’s was certainly the worst.” Said boy groaned again. “As soon as he leaned in, he exploded a total snot ball. He was sneezing all over the place!”
“Yangyang,” Chenle’s voice came strained and warning, his face flush from embarrassment. Yangyang’s eyes met Jisung again, the mischievous glint magnified.
“He couldn’t smell a thing, like his nose was completely blocked off. Would you believe it? He’s allergic to his soulmate!” Star-crossed lovers, Jisung found the thought amusing. “Jisung, what did your amortentia smell of?”
“I’ve yet to do mine,” Jisung croaked.
“Are you sure?”
“Yangyang, leave it.” Chenle’s voice was much firmer this time, but in a tone that hadn’t sounded rude. Yangyang hadn’t seemed to take offense to it either, seemingly used to it. Instead, the Gryffindor crossed his slender arms and grumbled how Chenle was ‘no fun.’
In a sudden mood swing, Yangyang flashed Jisung a sweet smile, much kinder than his wicked one from before. “It was great meeting you, Sung.” His arm had slid off Jisung’s shoulder as he slipped away, slinking towards the bustling Gryffindor table.
“ ‘Sung?’ ” Jisung asked, momentarily baffled.
Chenle paled. “I’m sorry about him. He’s not normally that...weird.” Not knowing what to say, Jisung shrugged. He hadn’t minded very much. Chenle nodded his head in the direction his friend had gone, tilting slightly with a smile. “Sit with me?”
Jisung hesitated at first. He furtively glanced at his group. They were already seated down at the Hufflepuff table, immersed in a new conversation filled with laughter and playful shoves. He doubted they’d notice his absence. “Alright,” he agreed.
Chenle had led the way with a bounce in his step. Perhaps it was from the heat of the crowd, but Jisung could’ve sworn the boy was turning redder by the second.
They found a more secluded spot towards the end of the dining table. Jisung hoped he was garnering the smallest amount of attention possible. He had caught a few stares and glances following them which had sent him into unease. Chenle had begun piling an assortment of foods onto his plates so Jisung had focused on mirroring his actions. For the sake of small talk, Jisung brought up his thoughts from when he had first seen Chenle.
“You certainly look good as new.”
Chenle’s face scrunched and he let out a grumble. “Well, I have that awful death juice you made me drink to thank.”
“I never made you drink anything. I’m simply the delivery boy,” Jisung shrugged.
Chenle, however, was intent on grumbling at him. “It tasted like arse! It was horrible.” They shared a brief laugh until the Gryffindor trailed to a pause. Jisung felt the mood between them shift.
“You see,” Chenle started softly, eyes trained on his plate. “I’m actually deathly allergic to flowers.”
Jisung’s brows lifted curiously. Was that what Yangyang was talking about? “Deathly allergic… to flowers ?” He thought about it a moment longer before adding, “Isn’t unsafe for you to be doing this project then?”
Chenle cringed. “Okay, not deathly. That was a tad dramatic. I just get horrible allergies when I’m around them.”
Jisung nodded. “That's quite the shame. I believe flowers are everything joyful and beautiful in this world.”
“They cause me to sneeze.” He nodded again. “A lot. Horrendously.” This time, Jisung’s nod was hesitant. Chenle’s eyes searched him as he leaned in expectantly.
Jisung wasn’t sure what to say. Heat crept up his neck as Chenle continued to peer at him with his wide eyes, far too close for Jisung’s comfort. “I see,” was all he could muster. At that, Chenle let out a sigh and leaned back. He seemed disappointed and Jisung couldn’t understand why. Had he been expecting him to say something specific? He pitied the boy for not being able to share his admiration for one of the loveliest things nature had to offer, but he felt it unnecessary to voice such an opinion. An unexplainable pang of guilt pooled in his gut.
“Has your part of the project been going well?” Chenle asked, suddenly shifting the conversation.
Jisung was grateful for the arbitrary question. “It has. No complications of any sort, yet. You?”
Chenle laughed sheepishly. “It’s getting there.” Jisung’s focus momentarily zeroed in on the way the corners of the boy’s eyes crinkled in their familiar way. “Where are you at?”
“Oh well, with some help, I’ve managed to plant a small batch already. I’ll have to go back tomorrow to record its growth so far and do a few experiments out in the fields.” Jisung paused before remembering, “Oh, and I’ll deliver notes on the research I’ve done so far if you think they’ll prove helpful for the potion.”
Chenle’s features were overtaken by a look of thoughtfulness before he startled into reality. “Can I join you tomorrow?” he blurted before quickly adding, “You know, to
Jisung hesitated. “The flower is still in its early stages. I doubt it’s even sprouted yet. It may be hard to observe anything if you don’t know what you’re meant to be watching for.”
Chenle shrugged, unaffected. “Then you’ll just have to explain to me what I am seeing.”
Had this been Sungchan or anyone else, Jisung would’ve grumbled that’s what the notes are for, idiot, but it wasn’t. It was Chenle, so he agreed with a ginger nod.
“I guess so.”
That was how Jisung found himself with the Gryffindor breathing down his neck as they both hunched over the container of wolfsbane Jisung had moved outside. There was no need for Chenle to have been next to him in the first place, there was not much to see. As Jisung recorded the growth, Chenle pressed him with pointless questions.
Does the angle of that leaf signify anything? Can’t we just charm it to grow quicker? Why is this a millimeter shorter than that one?
Every time, Jisung’s eyebrow would twitch in irritation and he’d have to stop himself from retorting with something he’d regret. He was normally never this irritable, but he had tried warning Chenle that it would be boring, that there would be nothing out by the meadows for him. Yet despite his efforts, he still found himself with Chenle peeking over him, the Gryffindor’s chest bumping into his shoulder. Jisung felt every puff of air Chenle let out against the curve of his neck. He wanted to explode. A fire had lit deep inside him and annoyance was the only form it could come out in.
Much to Jisung’s relief, Chenle eventually stepped back with a sigh. Jisung sighed as well, thankful he could return to breathing regularly. However, as soon as he caught his breath and his head cleared, he felt hollow.
“Are you truly allergic to flowers?” Jisung asked partially to distract himself, but mainly because he had found it absurd that a wizard could be allergic to something so lovely. He turned back to find Chenle who had strayed a few yards away finding a seat on the bed of tall grass and wildflowers.
“Yeah,” Chenle replied absentmindedly. Jisung watched the blade of grass the boy twisted between his nimble fingers. He placed his parchment and writing utensils down on a ledge before taking a seat on the ground beside the Gryffindor.
“You seem to be doing rather well considering where you are right now.”
Chenle’s movements halted. Jisung thought he may have caught him in a lie, how awkward that would be. A painfully awkward laugh left Chenle.
“I knew you’d notice eventually, but I was really hoping it wouldn’t be soon.”
Jisung winced. “Look, you don’t need to explain it.” He understood that everyone had things they liked to lie about, even if it was something as minuscule as being allergic to flowers. “Let’s just ignore this, I promise I won’t tell anyone.” He expected Chenle to look relieved, or at the very least embarrassed, but instead Chenle looked very confused.
“What?” His brows pulled together tightly. “Wait did you think I was lying about that?” Chenle laughed having realized something Jisung had yet to figure out for himself. “There’s a potion I use to block my allergies, that’s why I don’t seem like I have one.” Chenle’s laugh was much more self-conscious this time.
“Oh.” Jisung felt foolish but Chenle’s soft gaze turned to him.
“I use it to avoid embarrassing myself when I’m around you.” He suddenly looked nervous, his fingers returned to twisting the abused grass blade.
Baffled, Jisung asked, “Me? What does that have to do with me?”
“The potion, it blocks my nasal passages completely. It forces me to breathe through my mouth so that I can be around flowers,” then softly under his breath, “and those who smell of flowers.”
Realizations and connections flashed through Jisung’s mind. Yangyang’s words from the other night popped into his mind. He’s allergic to his soulmate! Jisung caught Chenle’s nervous gaze. “I smell of flowers, don’t I?”
“You do,” Chenle mumbled, his gaze falling back to the grass pressed between his fingers.
“But- but I don’t wear any fragrances, wouldn’t it be someone who wears a flowery perfume?”
Chenle shook his head. “Those have never given me an allergic reaction. I’ve only ever been like this around you. Unless you carry a handful of flowers in the pockets of your robe, it’s definitely you.”
“But why?” So much was going through Jisung’s mind. Many thoughts, new and old, pressed him. Who was Chenle to him? They sighed simultaneously.
“I don’t know, Sung.”
Jisung felt the familiar ice-cold burning on his chest. Oh, his amulet. “I know why.” He tugged it out of its home underneath his uniform. “It’s infused with daisies,” he explained. “They’re my favorite.” Chenle instantly tensed at the sight of it, looking as if he wanted to sneeze but couldn’t. Jisung felt a laugh bubbling in his chest.
“ That’s what’s been causing all my suffering?”
“I’m sorry,” Jisung chuckled.
Before Jisung could say any more, Chenle shifted to face him. The air between them dropped painfully, even the flowers around them seemed to still against the wind. He followed Chenle’s nervous gaze on the space of crumpled grass between them. Tentatively, their eyes met as Jisung stared at him through his lashes, unsure of what was about to happen. He held his breath.
“Park Jisung, I really like you.”
The breeze picked up again and all air was knocked out of Jisung’s chest. His mind completely shut down.