Work Text:
torture wasn’t difficult when yoongi himself was a chasm of pain and withering.
however, it proved to be a little harder to bear when jungkook was the one at the end of the wand.
jungkook was a hero, but a fake hero through and through.
kim taehyung was the boy who didn’t fucking die, the chosen fucker, the bastard who conquered he-who-must-not-be-named. jungkook was a no one by comparison. he was a half-blood, hufflepuff, who ignored the thrill of quidditch despite being adept in favor of a paintbrush that brought portraits of cats to meowing life.
(“this one is named after you, hyung!” / “i’m not a cat, bunny.” / “closest i’ll ever get to a cat though. eomma won’t let me have a pet.” / “…you did not just pet my head.” / “…” / “put your tongue back in your mouth, jeon jungkook.” / “make me.”)
sure, jungkook was one of them, a golden hero, but nothing compared to kim taehyung, the most golden-skinned of them all.
so, why was it that it was jungkook who was screaming for mercy? why was it jungkook who shoved taehyung toward the portkey and got himself left behind at min manor? why did it have to be yoongi’s aunt who was now carving the words ‘blood traitor’ deep into jungkook’s dermis?
why did it have to result with yoongi watching helplessly, painfully, motionlessly, as the love of his life cried and cried until he could cry no longer?
.
.
.
jungkook bled in the foyer of min manor.
jungkook bled into the very foundation of yoongi’s birthright.
jungkook bled straight into the bones of yoongi’s family magic.
.
.
.
by some miracle, jungkook survived yoongi’s aunt’s tirade. yoongi thanked lady magic for the blessing, but covertly, keeping his occlumency shields rigid while in his aunt’s presence.
“yoongi!” she barked suddenly.
yoongi stood straighter, stiffer. he knew better than to speak.
“take this thing to the dungeons. perhaps a few weeks completely isolated will loosen the tongue.”
yoongi dipped his head a mere few centimeters, struggled not to flinch as she swept past him in a rush of scarlet-stained robes.
slowly, when he knew he could, he looked at his bunny, looked at what he allowed his bunny to be reduced to.
jungkook could not move, nor speak. his eyes were drooping heavily. however, they just managed to catch yoongi’s gaze for a scant half-second.
yoongi’s shield fell, and a thought came floating through as if it had always been there, whispered in jungkook’s softest tone.
‘this is not you, hyung.’
.
.
.
years ago, when min yoongi was a third year starting a heavy load of classes as a model slytherin student, he came across a pack of lions surrounding a boy who stood his ground.
a mild stinging hex aimed at the cowardly leader of the lions resulted in yoongi being thanked by a graciously beaming badger.
(“my name’s jeon jungkook. you are?” / “you haven’t heard?” / “why? are you famous? should i get your autograph now while you’re still here?” / “sigh. min yoongi.” / “oh! you’re the min heir. nice, nice. you wanna have lunch together sometime?” / “why would i do that? we’re not even in the same year.” / “yeah, but advocates for the dark arts gotta stick together. safety in numbers, ya know?”)
.
.
.
there came a day when jeon jungkook decided to dabble with the idea of love.
(“have you ever been in love, hyung?”
“wah—? don’t be preposterous. of course not.“
“oh? why not? i thought an ahjussi like you would be into stuff like crushes and romance.”
“yah. don’t push it.”
“alright, alright. but, ya know? you have to get married for sure, right? to carry on the min line?”
“eventually. but worrying about that now is fruitless. i need to focus on becoming powerful through magic first.”
“oh? magic first, and then what? politics? business?”
“mind your business, bunny.”
“…hey, hyung. let’s brew hecate‘s version of amortentia.”
“and why would we do that?”
“because i’m going to do so no matter what.”
“forgive me, let me adjust. why would i help you do that?”
“because you would never let me do it alone.”)
.
.
.
the goddess hecate knew much about the derivative darkness of love. with love, though, comes a generous helping of lust alongside.
(“ah! hy-hyung!” / “f-fucking… you shouldn’t—!” / “i, i know that now! ah, hyuuuung. please, move. move faster. please, hyung, i can hardly take it.” / “c’mon, bunny. just like that. you can take it. you can take everything i give you.” / “yes, yes, yes! ohhhh, yoongi-hyung. yoongi, yoongi, yoo—ah! please!” / “you will take it. fucking take it all.” / “ah! ah!” / “you’re mine. you’ll always be mine. always.”)
(“so… always, huh?” / “i know you’re expecting me to deny what i said in bed, but i was serious. you’re mine, bunny. you don’t get to leave me. you’re mine to worship and treasure, fuck everyone else.” / “hehe. i didn’t know cats could be so territorial.” / “would you like me to stake my claim?” / “do as you please.”)
.
.
.
jungkook was yoongi’s, and yoongi was his.
so how in the living hell did taehyung take jungkook away from him?
.
.
.
(“so there’s no going back for you, huh? you’ve made your decision.” / “i have. and i see you’ve decided to stand by kim taehyung instead of me.” / “you’re turning it more black and white than it actually is, hyung.” / “don’t. you can’t weasel out of this with pretty words. you left us. you betrayed me.” / “was it really me, min yoongi? do you really think i would choose myself over you in this war?“ / ”you abandoned me! i need to fulfill my duty to the dark lord, and you want to go gallivanting with the boy who fucking lived!” / “would be nice to fucking live, wouldn’t—ah. i’ve never been on this side of your wand before.” / “don’t come near me again. you’ve made a mistake, and you will rue it.“ / ”i already do, hyung.”)
.
.
.
yoongi stares at the doors set in front of him. before he can lose his nerve, he taps his wand against the lock. it registers the wand as belonging to a member of the min family, and the doors leading to manor’s dungeons open out in front of him.
there are multiple prisoners kept here, but only one yoongi is interested in finding.
“jungkook.”
jungkook is on the floor, head hiding in his knees, hands covering his ears. it’s like he’s balled himself up to take up the least amount of space possible.
ironic, when he takes up the most space in yoongi’s heart.
“jeon jungkook.”
yoongi knows the boy can hear him. he knows because he knows jungkook.
finally, yoongi sighs. “bunny.”
jungkook lifts his head, uncovers his ears. there’s no smile on his lips, no brightness in his eyes. but there is knowing. it’s written all over, and yoongi wants nothing more than to succumb to the truth of it.
yoongi’s having trouble admitting it to himself though. the truth, that is.
“it hurts, doesn’t it?”
yoongi flinches, not expecting jungkook’s voice to be this hoarse. “pardon?”
jungkook’s eyes are empty, full. “you’re hurt. and you know exactly why. you look at me, and you see what happened.”
“happened?”
here, jungkook listlessly gestures around him. “the war, the people, the dark lord. purebloods and muggleborns.” here, he gestures at yoongi himself. “and us. us too.”
yoongi swallows. the lump doesn’t go down. “y-you’re hurt. let me—“
he stops when he sees jungkook flinch at the sight of his wand. it hurts him. it hurts him more than he ever thought.
(“i love using your wand, hyung. it always responds so well to me. just like its owner, hehe.” / “you respond to just my tongue even better.“ / “merlin save me.”)
no more trust. no more light. no more…
“i broke us, didn’t i?”
jungkook just stares. at yoongi, into yoongi.
yoongi sobs, covers his eyes with a pale hand. “i broke us. it was me, wasn’t it?”
“maybe. maybe not.” jungkook’s voice is still void of all, but it sounds… warmer? than before. “maybe we’re all puppets of a greater phenomenon.”
“fate and choice work hand in hand.” yoongi looks at the wand in his hand, finds himself brimming with rage as he recalls the damage it did to his bunny while in his aunt’s hands. “i helped do this. it was me.”
“perhaps.”
“so i can fix it.”
“…perhaps.”
.
.
.
the dark lord is felled, a veiny hand losing its grip on the elder wand, no more dead than a mere mortal would be.
yoongi doesn’t hesitate.
while the crowds rush toward taehyung, the boy who lived twice, yoongi runs the opposite way.
jungkook is struggling to bandage his arm when he sees yoongi at his side in the hospital wing. “you won,” he grins.
“no,” yoongi smiles, relieved and happy and alive. “we won. we won us.”
“we did, huh?”
their lips meet, and yoongi’s magic joins forces with jungkook’s destiny once again. forever together, till death do them part. each other’s forever, now and always.