Work Text:
“Han Jisung, you are dead to me.” Changbin grumbles, sending his friend a fiery glare from across the room. Rolling up the sleeves of his robes, he sets to work organizing the piles and piles of unopened letters around them. This is going to take forever.
“How was I supposed to know that Professor Kim would punish us so harshly? I didn’t think he’d make us reorganize the Hogwarts mailroom as punishment!” Jisung huffs petulantly, gesturing to the large mess around them, “I didn’t even know Hogwarts had a mailroom!”
“This is where letters go to die.” Hyunjin adds solemnly, lips curling in disgust at the amount of work the three of them are expected to complete.
Jisung groans, already elbows deep in a box of yellowing parchment and stamps. The youngest decides to try for misplaced optimism. “Maybe we’ll find some mysterious, old letters?”
Changbin levels him with an unimpressed stare. “Don’t give me that happy-go-lucky Gryffindor attitude. It’s your stupid idea that got us stuck here.”
“You’re a Gryffindor too.” He mutters under his breath, trying and failing to mask his irritation.
Unfortunately, Jisung can’t really disagree with that logic. It was his dumb prank that condemned them to this horrible fate—Changbin and Hyunjin were just stupid enough to go along with it. And really—who thought they would get in trouble for teaching the giant squid in the Black Lake random tricks?
Professor Kim, apparently. With a stern look of disapproval, he had banished the three of them to the Hogwarts mailroom, telling them not to leave until the place was spotlessly organized.
“This letter says 1467!” Hyunjin screeches, flapping a crusty looking envelope above his head. After a moment, he stares at the parchment in amazement. “That’s dated before the colonization of America…”
“And it’s probably the last time anyone was stuck inside this room. We’ll die of old age before we sort through all of these letters.” Changbin answers dejectedly.
“We should’ve stayed enemies, Hannie.” Hyunjin jokes, grinning wildly as he references their past history, “Then you wouldn’t be able to drag me into your schemes.”
During their first year at Hogwarts, Hyunjin and Jisung had a few… disagreements that led to multiple visits to the headmaster’s office and one very large Great Hall food fight. After that incident, the two agreed on a truce and miraculously became best friends. The rest of the student body is completely mystified by their friendship.
“Maybe there are some secret love letters in here.” Jisung wonders aloud, wiggling his eyebrows comically. The Gryffindor absolutely lives for the drama. Whether it’s long-winded tales of romance, painful heartbreak, or shocking betrayals—Jisung loves them all. That’s why he’s studying to become a journalist in the future.
“Love letters?” This perks Hyunjin’s interest, a true hopeless romantic at heart.
“Yeah!” Jisung continues excitedly, taking this opportunity to spice up their detention time. “There’s so much in here—empty howlers, torn up parchment—there’s gotta be something good. Maybe even some recent Hogwarts drama.”
Changbin smirks. “If you’re looking for love letters, maybe you should find those poems you wrote for Lee Minho during first year.”
Jisung’s face burns bright red at the thought. Upon his first arrival to Hogwarts, the young Gryffindor had immediately fallen head over heels for an older Ravenclaw boy. Suddenly inspired, Jisung had written five poems about his love for the elder—desperately swooning over the boy’s gorgeous smile and twinkling eyes. The elder will never let him forget it. Unfortunately for Changbin, Jisung will never let him forget it either.
“I don’t need physical copies of those poems because everything is still right here.” He answers without hesitation, pointing dramatically to his chest. He mimics the beating of his heart. “I can still wax poetic about Lee Minho, hyung…except now it’s just a little less PG.”
No matter how much Changbin tries to tease him, Jisung will always stand firm on one crucial opinion.
Lee Minho is fucking hot.
He’s the Captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, an amazing seeker, and the man of Jisung’s dreams. Unfortunately for Jisung, every other student at Hogwarts also notices how insanely attractive Minho is. Everyone is always fighting for the chance to sweep him off his feet, but no one in the history of Hogwarts has ever been able to fully capture his attention.
Han Jisung loves a challenge.
But even though his brain is up for the challenge, Jisung’s body often…refuses to cooperate. He becomes a stuttering mess the second Minho is in his vicinity, knees turning to jelly and sweat dripping down his forehead. It’s pathetic.
At this point, it’s become a running joke of their friend group that Jisung will never find the courage to confess his crush to Minho. The Gryffindor might be brave in other aspects of his life—like taming a giant squid and exploring the Forbidden Forest past curfew—but standing face to face with Minho makes him want to melt into a pile of mush. The Ravenclaw is just that hot.
Since he can’t actually verbalize any of these thoughts to Minho, Jisung takes every opportunity he can get to bother his friends about how unbelievably gorgeous the Ravenclaw is. Sometimes, Changbin just makes it too easy.
“Speaking of how hot Minho is…” Jisung begins slowly while his two friends groan in unison. “Did you see that Minho dyed his hair? The way his blond hair looks with that Ravenclaw blue has me feeling some type of way.”
Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry. We know exactly what ‘type of way’ you mean.” Under his breath, he murmurs something that sounds suspiciously like horny bastard. Instead of calling Hyunjin a hypocrite like he deserves, Jisung decides to continue.
“The blond hair makes him much easier to spot on the Quidditch pitch,” Jisung hums, dumping a pile of old letters onto the table in front of him, “not that I have any trouble keeping my eyes on him in the first place. It’s always a pleasure.”
Changbin throws a ball of parchment at his face, narrowing his eyes in disgust. “You are so horny it’s unbelievable.”
Jisung gasps in mock disappointment, pretending to be incredibly offended by that accusation. He picks up a discarded howler envelope, throwing the bright red piece of paper towards his best friend. The howler misses the other Gryffindor by a mile, landing open on the floor between them. Jisung shrugs, too lazy to pick up another random envelope when he already has thousands to deal with. It’s just an empty howler. What’s the worst that could happen?
That’s his first mistake in a series of many, many horrible embarrassments.
“Of course I’m horny for Lee Minho!” Jisung responds confidently, sending Changbin a disbelieving look, “Have you seen him?”
Hyunjin giggles, shaking his head. “We’ve definitely seen him, Hannie. And we’ve also heard you talk about his chiseled bone structure and his deliciously thick thighs even more.”
Jisung swoons, closing his eyes like he’s visualizing the masterpiece of Minho’s quadriceps. “Merlin, he could choke me out with those thighs and I would thank him. They’re positively delicious.”
Changbin and Hyunjin burst into laughter at the seriousness of his tone, knowing that the Gryffindor really would give anything to ‘die by the thigh.’ “I thought you liked his hands better?” Changbin teases, tossing a package of old parchment across the room like a frisbee.
Jisung’s grin widens, amused by the way his friends continue to egg him on. They may act like his flirting makes them sick, but the other two enjoy Jisung’s quips more than anything.
“Even his hands are hot! I never thought I had a hand kink, but…I want those hands all over me. ”
Hyunjin dissolves into giggles yet again, clapping his hands loudly at Jisung’s lack of filter. Spurred on by his friend’s rambunctious encouragement, the Gryffindor presses on. The words fly out of his mouth and Jisung means every single word.
“I may be afraid of heights, but I would ride his broomstick any day. The way he looks on the Quidditch pitch—all windblown and sexy—is literally something out of a wet dream.”
Changbin sputters at the admission, choking on his own spit and nearly coughing up a lung. “Merlin, Jisung! Keep your horrible thoughts to yourself, degenerate. I didn't even know you were a fan of Quidditch.”
“I’m not.” Jisung smiles, twirling a stray piece of dark hair around his finger, “But I’m definitely a fan of the way Minho looks in his uniform. His ass in those uniform pants had to be sculpted by the gods. He’s just so dreamy. Like a heartthrob from one of those muggle romance movies.”
Hyunjin rolls his eyes, casting a spell that automatically sends piles of old letters towards the trash. Inventive, as always. “I always knew you were a sucker for those muggle movies.”
“Just like he’s a sucker for Lee Minho.” Changbin chimes, fluttering his eyelashes and making childish kissy noises.
Jisung sends him a deadpan look, mindlessly picking at the edge of an envelope. “You know I’ve had a thing for him since first year, hyung.”
“If that thing is a massive boner, then yeah…you definitely have.” Changbin emphasizes.
The young Gryffindor winks. “Aw, hyung! You think it’s massive? I’m flattered—I really am—”
“Shut it, loser.”
Maybe this time spent in the unknown Hogwarts mail room won’t be so bad. They’ve barely made a dent in the intimidating mountains of stationery and parchment, but the three of them are easily passing the time with hilarious banter. Even if some of it has been at the expense of Jisung and his insane crush on Minho, the Gryffindor finds that he doesn’t mind it too much. It makes the three of them laugh and no one else will ever hear it anyway.
Once Hyunjin and Jisung finally calm down, wiping tears of laughter from the corners of their eyes, the Slytherin turns to his friend with raised eyebrows. “Seriously, Jisung…why haven’t you ever been able to confess to Minho?”
“He’s hot and it makes me nervous. I always lose my nerve before I can say anything.”
“Well, can you please find it soon?” Changbin begs, flopping helplessly into a pile of letters. The envelopes quickly consume him. “If you finally tell him that you think he’s hot, maybe we won’t have to hear about it all the time!”
Jisung rolls his eyes, walking around the edge of the table to join Changbin in the letter pile. It looks comfy and the youngest is already tired. As he navigates around the edge, he accidentally kicks the discarded howler on the ground. Jisung doesn’t notice it, but the red envelope starts to flutter beneath him.
“As if I would ever tell Lee Minho that I think he’s the hottest man at Hogwarts! A literal supermodel. If anything, I would just—”
Before any of them can react, a stray owl comes sweeping through the mailroom at top speed. Jisung is nearly knocked to the ground when the owl nosedives in front of him. Changbin is frozen in shock, Jisung is ducking for cover, and Hyunjin is screaming at the top of his lungs. The sound is piercing.
This is it, Jisung thinks belatedly, this is how I die. Getting attacked by an owl in the mailroom.
Just as quickly as it appeared, the bird flies out of the open window—this time, with something clenched between its beak.
“Fuck. Oh no.” Changbin curses, clearly the most put together of the three, “This is so, so bad.”
“Yeah, I’d say it’s pretty bad!” Hyunjin whines, smoothing down his hair aggressively, “I thought that dumb bird wanted to peck our eyes out!”
“Not that, Hyunjin! Didn’t you guys see what he was carrying?” Changbin starts to pace, staring at the open window with a panicked expression.
Jisung’s eyes slowly drift towards his feet—exactly where the bird had lunged towards moments before. Only a pile of all-white envelopes remains. Absolutely no red envelope to be found.
“It…it took the howler.”
His voice sounds small, weak and horrified by the dull realization of what just happened. Jisung’s stomach starts to churn, flipping him upside down and turning him inside out. He thinks he might throw up. Merlin, please let this be a dream.
That howler heard everything. It listened to every little comment that Jisung made about Minho’s delicious thighs and muggle movies and his ‘massive’ boner for the Ravenclaw boy. Jisung is quite literally living in a nightmare. If bogarts could take the form of specific situations, this horror would take the cake.
No matter how many times Jisung mumbles Riddikulus, this nightmare will remain the same.
“Maybe we can stop the owl from delivering the howler,” Changbin suggests hurriedly, immediately falling into crisis prevention mode. He quickly checks his watch, quietly cursing at the time. “Minho is probably still in the Great Hall for lunch. Hopefully it’s already cleared out by now. Let’s go!”
The three of them barrel through the twisted hallways, sliding around corners and knocking over random students. It’s unfortunate that those students became casualties of their desperation, but Jisung's entire life is about to become a gigantic causality. They need to stop this bird.
Changbin, Hyunjin, and Jisung skid to a halt in front of the Great Hall doors, panting heavily from their journey. The youngest feels lightheaded from the overwhelming exercise and the possibility of complete humiliation in front of his peers. Desperate to protect Jisung’s withering reputation, they push open the large doors.
Immediately, they know it’s too late. There’s a pile of ash in front of Minho that shows the last remains of the howler. The echo of Jisung’s final words reverberates around the Great Hall as the student body falls silent.
As if I would ever tell Lee Minho that I think he’s the hottest man at Hogwarts! A literal supermodel!
The sinking pit of dread in Jisung’s stomach feels as large as a hippogriff, clawing its way up his throat alongside horrible bile. Minho has heard everything. Half of the Hogwarts student body has heard everything.
Jisung would give anything to have a time turner right about now.
Even though he’s afraid of what he’ll find, his eyes tentatively meet Minho’s from across the Great Hall. His gaze is more piercing than usual, laser-focused on Jisung for the first time in Hogwarts history. While the younger usually wants to melt under Minho’s gaze, now he feels like curling into a ball as those gorgeous eyes bore into his soul. It’s like the Ravenclaw can’t comprehend what he’s seeing.
Minho’s mouth is still parted in shock, pretty lips forming a small ‘o’. His face is bright red— obviously—because he’s been humiliated in front of half the student body. The tips of his ears match better with Jisung’s Gryffindor tie than his actual skin color. If the younger wasn’t so horrified, he might find the detail endearing.
He must've been enjoying some toast before the howler arrived because his hand is still holding the bread, seemingly frozen in place. Jisung doesn’t think he’ll ever get his appetite back after this. He’ll have to drop out of school and change his name—maybe move to another country and start a new life as a car salesman.
Panic starts to build in his chest and the corners of his eyes are wet with unshed tears. Jisung’s Gryffindor confidence doesn’t apply to something like this. The young boy quickly mouths a hesitant I’m sorry to the Ravenclaw before turning on his heel and rushing towards his dormitory.
He thinks he hears the sounds of footsteps rushing behind him, but Jisung is too distraught to care. Minho probably hates him. And on top of that, now the entire student body will know how pathetically in love he is. Rumors and gossip spread like wildfire at Hogwarts—Jisung knows it’s only a matter of time before this incident is all anyone wants to talk about.
He doesn’t know when he started crying, but once the tears have started, there’s almost no way to stop them. He messily wipes his face with the sleeve of his robes, mumbling the password to the portrait in front of the Gryffindor common room.
How could he have been so stupid?
Jisung needs to flee the country. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to show his face at Hogwarts ever again. Without a moment of hesitation, he grabs the gigantic suitcase beneath his bed and begins hastily tossing his belongings inside the luggage. Jisung’s only coherent thought is an aggressively panicked I gotta go, I gotta go, I gotta go.
“Jisung, buddy! Let’s take a minute to calm down before we start packing for a transatlantic trip, yeah?” The Gryffindor’s brain clears long enough to register that his roommate Chan has followed him back to the dorms. Felix trails behind him nervously, closing the door to the Gryffindor dormitory despite his Hufflepuff status. He must’ve snuck in behind Chan. It’s probably for the best—Felix has always been the best at consoling Jisung during times of stress.
“It’s not as bad as it seems!” Felix echoes tentatively, stepping towards Jisung with a soft expression on his face. The Hufflepuff opens his arms and Jisung immediately falls into them, melting into his best friend’s embrace. His entire body is shaking like a leaf. “The Great Hall was mostly empty anyway.”
Chan nods empathetically, slowly starting to unpack the other boy’s haphazard suitcase. “And I thought your words and metaphors were actually quite poetic. The one about—”
When Jisung whines loudly into Felix’s chest, the elder starts to backtrack. “Okay, maybe I shouldn’t keep reminding you of what happened…everything will be fine, Jisung. I promise.”
“How can you promise that?” Jisung mumbles, tightening his grip around Felix’s waist anxiously. The Hufflepuff wheezes at the feeling but somehow stays quiet. “Now Minho knows how obsessed with him I am. Everyone is going to remember this until I die.”
Chan chuckles, ruffling the Gryffindor’s hair affectionately. “I’m sure people have already started to forget, Jisungie.”
With a sudden crash, the door of their dorm room flies open loudly. Choi Beomgyu—another Gryffindor who lives just down the hall—pokes his head through the doorway with wide eyes. “Hyung! Did you really fall to your knees in front of Minho and beg to suck his dick in front of the entire Great Hall today? ”
Beomgyu stares between the three of them with curious eyes, waiting for them to confirm or deny the wild rumor. Jisung wants to crawl into a hole and die. He wants to obliviate himself out of existence.
“Absolutely not!” Chan cries, face morphing into an expression of horror and disbelief. “Please tell everyone that none of that actually happened. Please.”
Beomgyu deflates, looking visibly disappointed at the news, before sending the other Gryffindors a solid thumbs up. “I’ll go ask Hyunjin-hyung what really happened and then start clearing up weird rumors.”
Beomgyu offers them an eccentric salute, immediately disappearing from the doorway to go find his Slytherin friend. At the mention of Hyunjin’s name, memories of their conversation come flooding back to Jisung. The boy feels weak in the knees and sick to his stomach.
Silently, Felix and Chan have a telepathic conversation above Jisung’s head before apparently reaching a shared decision. “The rumors are starting to spiral, but don’t worry—we’ll stop them before they get too crazy.” Felix emphasizes, voice more serious than Jisung has ever heard it.
Chan nods, running his hands through Jisung’s hair in comforting strokes. “We can take it from here, Jisungie. Why don’t you head out to the Quidditch pitch to clear your mind for a bit? Just to get away from all the chaos.”
Even though Jisung doesn’t even play Quidditch, the pitch has become a safe haven for him throughout his time at Hogwarts. Whenever he gets too stressed about academic struggles, he finds himself sitting in the middle of the field to collect his thoughts. As long as no one is practicing on the pitch, it’s the perfect spot to decompress. It’s been his favorite spot for years.
Getting away from the Hogwarts student body sounds amazing right about now. Jisung would try to lock himself in the dorm, but he’s worried other Gryffindors might try to barge into the room and ask stressful questions that the boy isn’t prepared to answer. The thought makes him shiver, anxiety crawling up his spine.
He nods weakly at Chan’s suggestion, detaching himself from Felix’s neck to take a deep breath. He feels shaky on his feet, but the reassurance of his two closest friends helps him along. “Please.”
———
And that’s how Jisung ends up sitting in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, playing with random strands of grass and pondering all of his greatest mistakes. The sun is setting beautifully along the horizon, bathing the rest of the sky in gorgeous hues of pink, orange, and red.
He takes a much-needed deep breath, lying on his back and staring up at the sky. Minho knows how much Jisung likes him—it was practically screamed in his face by that stupid, red envelope. Does Minho hate him? How will Jisung ever be able to face any of his classmates ever again? Should he drop out of Hogwarts and get a job scrubbing toilets at the Three Broomsticks? Merlin, what if his professors hear about the howler incident? What if—
“I thought I’d find you here.” A voice calls from behind him, the sound echoing briefly around the arena.
Jisung bolts upright, eyes flying open in panic. He knows that voice. The Gryffindor does his best to swallow the bile rising in his throat. His entire body goes cold, the sensation of his skin pricking on the back of his neck making him feel even more anxious. His heart drops like a dementor just entered the field instead of his long-term crush.
Minho.
The Ravenclaw is dressed in regular pajamas and his school-issued cloak, creating a confusing visual experience that is both intimidating and adorable. His pajama pants have pictures of cartoon cats drawn all over them and his casual t-shirt is oversized and extra comfy-looking. Jisung stares at his long cloak with envy, suddenly realizing how cold it’s become now that the sun is starting to set. He really should’ve thought this through.
Jisung can hardly meet Minho’s eyes, flustered by the other boy’s attractively messy hair and still insanely embarrassed by his own horrible existence. He turns his attention towards the grass in front of him, picking at some of the longer pieces anxiously. When he finally speaks, his voice is hoarse from disuse. How long has he been out here again?
“You found me…” Jisung trails off quietly, wishing desperately for a loose bludger to knock him out of his misery. Knowing that Minho won’t be able to hear, he secretly mumbles “ unfortunately” under his breath before he can stop himself.
Minho walks over to the middle of the Quidditch pitch, plopping down beside the Gryffindor without any hesitation. Jisung’s breath hitches in his throat. From this close, he can smell the pretty cologne that Minho always insists on using. This is literally a nightmare waiting to happen, Jisung thinks distantly.
The two fall into companionable silence and Jisung decides to close his eyes again to avoid admiring Minho. He’s almost lulled into a false sense of security until the Ravenclaw suddenly decides to speak. “So…the hottest man at Hogwarts, huh?”
His voice is light and teasing, grinning deviously as the Gryffindor’s face morphs into shock and pure terror. Jisung flounders, mouth unable to form real words, and gasps for air like a fish out of water. “Y-you weren’t supposed to hear that! Merlin, I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable. If you want to hex me, I totally understand and—”
Minho frowns, looking genuinely confused by Jisung’s frantic behavior. “Why would I want to hex you?”
Jisung levels him with an incredulous stare, meeting the Ravenclaw’s eyes for the first time that night. “Are you kidding?” He squeaks, flailing his hands wildly, “I accidentally embarrassed you with a howler that detailed all of my romantic and sexual thoughts about you! In front of half the Hogwarts student body! All of our peers know that I think your thighs are delectable! Why wouldn’t you want to hex me?”
Minho smirks. “Actually, you said my thighs are delicious… but delectable is fine too.”
Jisung groans, pulling his knees up to his chest and burying his face in his hands. Maybe if he curls up small enough, he’ll be mistaken for a spare quaffle. “I can’t believe you remember that.” He whines, “This is the most humiliating moment of my life.”
Minho laughs loudly and the sound causes warmth to settle in Jisung’s chest. The Ravenclaw is so pretty that it physically hurts.
“I didn’t come here to hex you, Jisung.” He easily reassures, rolling his eyes like the answer is obvious, “I actually came here to ask you on a date…with me…because I think you’re really, really cute.”
Jisung’s brain short circuits. He must’ve been stuck in the cold for longer than he realized because his ears have clearly frozen over. There’s no way he could've heard that correctly. “Huh?”
The Ravenclaw scoots closer to the younger, grinning wickedly as he leans in to repeat himself. Minho’s warm breath ghosts over the shell of Jisung’s ear. The younger suppresses a shudder—this time, it’s definitely not from the cold. “I think you’re cute and would like to take you on a date, Jisungie.”
“Cute?” The Gryffindor squeaks, feeling all of his organs quickly melting into a puddle of sludge. Minho thinks he’s cute. Minho wants to take him on a date. Minho knows that Jisung wants to be suffocated by his thighs. Minho is flirting with him.
“Very cute,” Minho emphasizes, placing his hand over Jisung’s frozen one in the grass. “Especially when you’re flustered. And when you’re publicly announcing that my ass was carved by the gods.”
Jisung wants to scream. Surely this must be a purgatory of some kind. Maybe Professor Kim’s punishment wasn’t just to spend hours in the mailroom—maybe this is also a consequence of Hogwarts discipline. Jisung shakes his head rapidly, head bobbling so much that the Gryffindor thinks he might give himself a concussion. There is absolutely no way this is happening.
“B-but!” He stutters helplessly, staring at Minho with wide eyes, “I said that I want you to suffocate me with your thighs! And that I have a kink for your hands in front of the entire school! How can you possibly think I’m cute when I made sexual innuendos about riding your broomstick?”
Jisung is practically frantic now, heartbeat racing faster than the golden snitch. Minho leans forward again, lifting the Gryffindor’s chin slowly so they’ll have to look each other in the eyes. The younger suddenly feels paralyzed by the layers of fondness and desire reflected in the elder’s eyes. Holy shit.
“Jisung,” He enunciates slowly, never breaking eye contact with the younger, “I’m trying to be a gentleman and take you on a date before I absolutely devour you…all of this rambling is making it very hard for me.”
Minho must've destroyed any working synapses in the younger’s brain because apparently Jisung’s brain-to-mouth filter is completely malfunctioning. “I’d love to make things hard for you—” The second he realizes the implications of the sexual innuendo, he quickly buries his face in his hands again. “—what is wrong with me? Why can’t I just shut up around you?”
The Ravenclaw laughs loudly again, smirking down at the boy in front of him. “I like it when you don’t shut up. I like listening to you, Han Jisung.”
Before Jisung even has the opportunity to melt into a puddle again, Minho is tugging him closer by the waist until they’re nearly chest to chest. It’s a little bit awkward since the two of them are sitting in the grass, but somehow the elder makes it work—Ravenclaw ingenuity at its finest. Jisung’s breath hitches pathetically in his throat when Minho tucks a stray piece of hair behind the younger’s ear. The action is incredibly tender and romantic.
Minho leans closer to the Gryffindor, whispering softly into the space between them. “The faster you shut up about my thighs, the faster I can kiss you.” He teases.
Jisung nods obediently, pretending to lock his mouth with a key. “Shutting up right now!”
When Minho finally connects their lips in a spectacular kiss, Jisung thinks his brain finally loses all cognitive function. The only coherent thought bouncing around his skull is an embarrassingly desperate Minho, Minho, Minho.
Minho’s kisses are soft but firm—butterfly-inducing and intense all at once and Jisung’s brain is spinning. This moment is everything he’s always dreamed of and more. When Minho starts to bite at the younger’s lower lip, his hand slowly slides up Jisung’s body to cup his face tenderly. The Gryffindor suppresses another shiver. He’s starting to feel a little delirious, drunk on the way Minho’s lips move languidly against his.
In a moment of desperation, Jisung grabs Minho’s bicep to steady himself—which (obviously) has the complete opposite effect. The Ravenclaw’s muscles are firm under the younger’s hands, even more glorious than Jisung could have ever imagined. And, boy, has he imagined. Minho’s Quidditch training has blessed both of them beyond measure tonight.
The younger is glad they aren’t standing when Minho moves to suck marks onto the long expanse of the Gryffindor’s throat—his knees already feel so weak that they would probably collapse after a simple brush of Minho’s lips. Jisung is starting to tremble.
He’s shaking so much, apparently, that Minho finally takes notice. The elder pulls away slowly, chuckling at the way Jisung (desperately) chases his lips. Minho squints down at the younger with concern, running his hands up and down the bare expanse of Jisung’s arms.
“Are you cold?”
Jisung nods mutely, avoiding the intensity of Minho’s gaze. The elder stares down at him like he’s the most precious person in the world. Despite the outward chill of his body, Jisung’s face burns bright red.
Minho leans away from Jisung, briefly putting some distance between them. The younger almost wants to whine at the loss of contact. Minho is so warm. “No! Come back closer—”
In one swift movement, Minho unties the Ravenclaw cloak from his own shoulders and uses it to wrap Jisung in warmth. The reaction is practically instantaneous—the Gryffindor melts into a pile of lovesick goo. The cloak smells distinctly of Minho’s woodsy cologne, helplessly clouding Jisung’s brain.
“Better?” The Ravenclaw asks, sounding a little smug, but Jisung can see the way Minho’s eyes observe him with concern.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been better in my life,” Jisung answers honestly, pulling the cloak tighter around himself and smiling softly at the other boy. “This is way better than being hexed.”
Minho giggles, wrapping his arms around the younger's waist and pulling Jisung towards his chest. They stay cuddled up like that for a while, Minho mindlessly tracing patterns onto Jisung’s hip and resting his chin on the younger’s shoulder. The Gryffindor doesn’t think he’s ever been more content.
“How did you know I would be here?” Jisung whispers, reaching down to play with the rings on Minho’s fingers. His mind has been reeling since the Ravenclaw’s arrival, but one thing stands out in particular. I thought I’d find you here.
Jisung can’t see the exact expression on Minho’s face, but he can feel the hot blush creeping up the elder’s neck. The Ravenclaw wraps his arms tighter around Jisung’s waist, clearing his throat nervously. “I, uh—sometimes I come to the Quidditch pitch at night to run through drills. I’ve seen you sitting in the middle of the pitch before. I never wanted to disturb you! You always seemed so beautiful and peaceful.”
“Beautiful?” Jisung stammers, turning around to stare at the elder in disbelief. “That’s rich coming from Lee Minho—hottest Ravenclaw seeker in Quidditch history.”
Minho rolls his eyes, grinning gently at the praise. The tips of his ears are flushed pink and Jisung tries to squash down the growing fondness in his chest. “Doesn’t matter how hot the rest of Hogwarts thinks I am.” He answers steadily, brushing a wispy piece of hair off the younger’s forehead. “I only care if Han Jisung thinks I’m hot.”
The Gryffindor squirms, blushing bright red. “You obviously know the answer to that.” He mumbles.
“I’m glad that howler decided to rat you out.” Minho smirks, turning Jisung around in his arms again, “Because now I get to do this.”
The Ravenclaw leans forward to press his lips against Jisung’s once again, this time keeping everything soft and chaste. The younger sighs happily into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Minho’s neck and dipping in for another one. They kiss like that for a while—smooth and unhurried—because they know they have all the time in the world.
Jisung wishes he could stay trapped in this bubble of happiness for the rest of his life. But unfortunately, the coldness of the night begins to seep through the barrier of Minho’s cloak. “Should we head back inside before it gets too late?”
Minho pretends to ponder this question, licking his lips teasingly. Jisung’s eyes follow the movement. “Probably. I don’t want you to get a cold.”
Jisung scoffs, flopping his arms within the oversized length of Minho’s cloak. “I think I’ll be fine, hyung. It’s you that I’m worried about now.”
“Guess you’ll just have to keep me warm, huh?”
Jisung giggles, poking his hand out of the cloak flap and interlacing their fingers together softly. “Definitely.”
When people see them walking through the hallways of Hogwarts hand in hand, no one even begins to question the nature of their relationship. No one is really surprised by this new development. The couple does receive a few weird looks because of their attire—Minho still wearing his kitty pajama pants and Jisung’s small frame is swallowed by an oversized Ravenclaw cloak.
That’s okay,
Jisung thinks distantly,
everyone will quickly get used to seeing him wrapped up in Ravenclaw blue.