there’s nothing to it; I’ve only become an adult

Minerva’s Office at Hogwarts Afternoon, after classes 1963 / 1967 @everyminforhimself

Minerva held a talent, perhaps, in the way she held her authority even as she still appeared as if she was another student, her features so young, though possessing callused skin upon her palms. Four years have passed since she first taught a classroom, when she was the instructor of those who were only two years her junior, and she controlled their attention more efficiently than a number of those who held the experience, Minerva’s young age and familiarity among her students arriving to her aid ( especially as a former Head Girl, they already knew her wrath and her skill already proven in the classroom, respect something she expected, however, it was earned ). No effort needed to be given in keeping a room quiet, even the Great Hall if she wished, her influence learned early among others that came from her own care of her students, even those that were former peers, all combined with a proved sense of her expectations, even if at first a few expected her to still be on the Gryffindor Quidditch team and questions if she really became an Auror.

The expectations she gave her students even extended to her office and the heavy wooden door that separated her from the world when she wished ( she couldn’t afford her own home, even if she wished to rent, her own spaced limited to the quarters Hogwarts offered for staff and her office ). It was made clear on the first day of her classes the information needed for her office hours, when she was open for any questions, aid on homework, advice, or a simple talk. Among these was also the instruction that if her door was only ajar, she would only be allowing inquiries pertaining to homework or emergency ( “And, no, Mr. Accrington, an emergency does not include if you forgot to sign up for a practice time slot on the Quidditch field.” ).

It was as this now, only a crack opening her office to the hallways of Hogwarts, a steak of light visible in the space, interrupted only when another group of students hurried down the passageway, the padding of shoes against stone and the rustle of house robes transformed into a hum of sound against the rumble of stairwells discovering their floors. With this time of day, when the sun was able to give something of a glow on the grounds, there was something a bit fairytale about the castle, though the window behind her tended to cast a glare on the papers held before her, the essays needed to be read at a squint at times as she ink scratched away at corrections and a grade. 

She could have waited to go through the papers, wait until the night when the sounds of the day have diminished, there was quite an increase as students waited for dinner. They were outside her window, a muffled chatter and the crack of books on the lawn. Thus far, she didn’t mind until they grew into a ruckus, and even if she desired for complete silence, her classroom was thus far unavailable this afternoon as bird cages had been moved into the area for tomorrow’s lesson with the fifth years.

Perhaps it was a hint of silent fate that once she completed another essay, the parchment joining a pile on the side of her desk, the ink still drying on the back of the page and on the side of her hand, and her gaze made its way towards the window, finding itself cast on a hazy image of students clad in red and gold against green, a knock sounded on the door just as a shadow was displayed in the crack in the archway of the door.

“You may come in,” she called to them, her tone considerably neutral, “I’m afraid you will need to be quick if you’ll expect to be on time for dinner.”

Sungmin wrung his hands as he hesitated. He could kill Arthur Weasley, he really could. Arthur had found out about his friend’s awkward little crush on the young professor and since then he’d been the one sent to her office to ask questions when the homework and projects stumped them. But his friend was right about one thing - he shouldn’t let his silly crush prevent him from asking questions that can be the difference between passing and failed an OWL.

It was disturbing when Arthur made sense. He should do it less often.

“I’m afraid I don’t have time to eat tonight, Professor. I’ve got to study hard if I expect to bring my As to Os before OWLS.” They were only a year away, after all. “But, em, maybe I can sneak into the kitchens later. Or, I mean...n-not? Because that’s completely against the rules. Anyway, em, I had a question about the group project. And a few others if you have the time.”

“I won’t pass out,” he insisted, shaking his head probably a bit too hard as if to prove a point. That, however, only made his head hurt, and Benjy stopped shaking his head entirely, staring ahead and blinking a few times before giving himself and Sungmin a firm nod. “Will you catch me if I pass out, Sungmin? I won’t–” As if the other man will suddenly doubt the fact. “–but if I did, would you catch me?”

Now he was curious, though. Where had everyone scattered off to? His eyes kept wandering even has he listened to Sungmin, trying to catch sight of a horrid floral suit, a short blonde head, or a eye popping floral dress. Then– “Least favorite?” Benjy looked right back to his boss, eyes widening dramatically. “Not true! I like you, Sungmin, I really do.” He wrapped his arm around his shoulders, grinning when chocolate suddenly appeared in his hand. “Now I like you even more.”

“Sure will, kid. Nobody’s landing on the floor on my watch. Do I have to pinky swear?” Isn’t that what the optimistic kids did these days? Hell if he knew the first thing about optimism. “Yeah, least favorite, sorry about that but at least I give you food.” The sudden physical contact was both startling and welcome; contrary to popular belief, Sungmin liked hugs...and this almost felt like a hug. He resisted the temptation to put an arm around Benjy for just a moment, to at least get his hug, and instead gently pat the younger man’s hand. “Yeah, yeah, eat your candy.”

As a general rule, he expected people to be absolute idiots - they were unreliable, incompetent, and lazy. Sungmin Chang, however, didn’t even come close to sticking to that rule; all he did was command his utmost respect. The man had done more than enough to help him - neither the Auror department nor the Order would ever have been able to move in an out of St. Mungo’s with ease. And considering the fresh hell that’d been unleashed on the wizarding world in the last few months? This was just going to be another favour on top of a mountain of debt he owed the man. “Evaluations? For the trainees?” he asked, a minuscule smile finding its way to his lips. It reminded him instantly of filling out performance reviews for interns; probably the most tedious part of his own job, so he could - at least - commiserate. “For the trainees? Can’t imagine those are too flatterin’.” 

He sat back in his chair, shoulders going slack, but his expression hardening. “Look, I need help,” Alastor continued, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “I need your help - I need to go through a run down of every Order member’s injuries in the past year.” Because things don’t add up, he added silently. There were wand records; there were mission reports; there were conflicting things that he’d been told and none of it made sense. For whatever twisted reasons they had, people were lying through their teeth. “And a couple o’ other people’s, too.” Too many people had gotten hurt for reasons he didn’t want to believe. “And I know you have tha’ bloody confidentiality thing - but I wouldn’t be askin’ if it wasn’ incredibly important.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” he indulged in an exasperated sigh before shaking his head, a proud smile making a rare appearance. “Actually, they’re pretty good this time around. I’m proud of those kids. I may even recommend Lily Evans for early certification.” It was a move he hated to do but he’s done it before. These times called for drastic moves and exceptions.

“Oh, Merlin. I know that look, Alastor.” He listened closely and was careful to school his expression as he made his - frankly, immoral and possibly illegal - request. Confidentiality was the most important part of his job; it’s what led patients to come to a healer no matter what, it’s what made them feel secure. But Alastor was a public servant just like him. Every decision he made was intended to make the world a safer, better, healthier place and he wouldn’t ask this without a damn good reason.

Still.

Sungmin closed his eyes and drew in a breath. “I’m not saying ‘no’ outright. I would feel better about committing this huge violation of trust if you told me all you can about why you’ll need these records.”

And then of course there’s the question of if he wanted just official hospital records or accounts of injuries he healed at the manor.

It was rare Lorcan was able to focus solely on a conversation; he couldn’t ever truly focus, really, for his senses were too hyper-active. He could come close, though, and those moments were rare indeed. In any situation, he would rather space his awareness to his environment, would rather be prepared than not. Enough attention was given to any conversation, yes, but not enough for him to be labeled invested.

And yet this was an exception. So much of his time had been spent with his aunt that is seemed that she was the only other Korean in the magical world. Of course it wasn’t true, not when they had been visited by other d’Eaths, but it wasn’t often enough. He always felt stifled speaking to his aunt; there was nothing new to learn about her ( there was nothing he wanted to learn about her anymore ). Yet here was another person, easily and willingly speaking of their history, with excitement of meeting him matching what he felt.

It made him all too eager to add to the conversation; it made him all too much like a child again.

“Ah, I moved here when I was nine, so almost fifteen years.” How it was the truth, and still felt like a lie. His excitement deflated a fraction, for it more questions were asked, then the cover story would step in to take the place of his true history. It was so carefully constructed, and he could hear his aunt’s reminders whispering throughout the gala, ever the undesired presence.

If the laugh he gave at Sungmin’s scowl sounded a touch forceful, he hoped the older man would not notice.

“I meant to be polite, my apologies if it stung a little. If it helps, I don’t think you look forty-six at all. I would think you’re at least a decade younger.”

“There are many more international moves with how globalized the world is becoming, isn’t it?” Sungmin was many things, but unobservant wasn’t one of them. The deflation was slight but there. Perhaps the move was tied to a painful point in his life and if that was the case...well, what was a better change of topic than - “Our world is only experiencing a potion of that. You wouldn’t be familiar with current events in the muggle world, would you? Merlin, I’m glad I’m not one and it’s not even some superiority complex thing. I think I’d be overwhelmed with how advancements in their society and just making the world feel smaller and smaller.”

The babble about muggles was meant to be a distraction, no need for him to take the bait so long as it deflected from whatever it was he didn’t want to think about. Sungmin was a sucker for stories but he was more interested in keeping the atmosphere between them comfortable.

“Oh, of course it didn’t actually sting; a welcome change from my dongsaengs addressing me as, ‘hey, asshole!’ instead of hyungnim and allowing my sixteen year old to get away with 또라이. Twenties? You’re flattering me, stop it. I’ll blush.”

“I won’t throw up on you,” he reassured, giving Sungmin a possibly too-wide smile to try and prove his point. He wasn’t that drunk, at least he told himself that, and Benjy really didn’t want to deal with an angry Sungmin in this current state. The man was scary enough when he was pissed off and sober. He could only imagine what he’d be like when intoxicated. So far it seemed that the other man was at least a bit more caring when intoxicated, so Benjy was quick to shrug off his rejection of the finger foods and pop more into his mouth. “’M fine. Breathing fine, just fine.”

Definitely not fine. There was no doubt that Benjy would be thoroughly embarrassed come morning. Until then he munched happily, frowning when Sungmin asked where his friends were. “Friends?” His head whipped around, making him a little dizzy, as he searched for any sign of Holly, Tilden, Emmeline, or anyone else. “Scattered,” he finally determined, giving an assured nod as if to confirm what he said.

“You say that now,” he muttered, an air of bewilderment behind his affectionate tone. He hated drunk people but Benjy was just plain adorable. At least he was eating. There’s nothing you can actually do to un-drunk yourself but food at least could help prevent a massive hangover. “Just keep breathing fine and don’t pass out and we’ll be just fine.”

Scattered. Meaning he has no idea. Meaning Sungmin was by default his...sober mum friend. Sober mum friend who was also more than a little drunk, but semantics. At least he was compliant which was more than he could say for most drunks. Merlin, and he stays in one place! runners are the worst. 

“Did you have fun tonight? You know, before you ended up stuck with your least favorite, yours truly.” Once Benjy’s hand was empty, he reached over to the chocolates and gave him a few. “You’ve earned some chocolate privileges for taking care of your health. As long as you eat more finger sandwiches after.”

On that, Arthur merely smiled his most innocent smile and blinked surreptitiously at his friend. He delighted in being able to throw that “threat” for lack of better term, because it was an endless source of amusement to him that Sungmin was actually feared by the people he worked with. And he knew a lot of them personally too: Dorcas, Lily, Benjy, all of them were brave and strong in their own right, and here was this guy giving them trainee hell. It was too good to be true. “My winning asset… d’you mean my face or my wife? Because one of those things is true and this mug certainly wasn’t all that helpful those seven years in Hogwarts. Let’s just say I’m lucky I met Molly early.”

He knew they were joking around as they often did and he knew that they were both acutely aware of one’s importance to the other’s life, but that didn’t make him any less flattered whenever Sungmin let go with a string of compliments. It made him all the more aware of just how much this man had been privy to the highs and lows of his life and had supported him through it all, and the other way around. “Do you really have to be so dramatic? Not all heroes wear capes, blimey… and that’s coming from the guy who’s practically indispensable to St. Mungo’s.” He clapped his friend on the back, grinning. “We couldn’t replace you with a cat even if we tried… I mean, no matter how much the kids want a pet, we can’t possibly do that to St. Mungo’s and all your patients. We’ll just have to settle for the gnomes and the ghoul, who’s still missing, by the way, so a cat would be pretty appreciated right about now.”

Arthur shrugged his shoulders, turning his head so he could still see his friend’s reaction. “Look, I’m just making sure! I’m not saying you have to go soon, but you know… I do have dibs and she is my godchild.” He laughed roaringly, perhaps a little too loudly for the conversation, but he couldn’t help it. The memory of that moment, how they were shaking with both nerves and excitement about his having a daughter and him being the guardian. He could even recall the sheer weight of the trust that Sungmin had for him, to trust him with Elsie, moving him to tears, and they’d laughed to mask the seriousness of it all. “I feel like all that really has to happen now is her dying her hair ginger and we’re about ready to officially welcome her to the Weasley clan… that, and of course, you have to be outta the picture, which is unfortunate… ?”

“You would have found somebody eventually,” Sungmin said syrupy sweet before smirking into his glass. “In your forties you would’ve married a sweet old cat lady. Ya, it’s not like I’ve had any luck in that aspect of my life - and we both know if either of us were to be known for their face it’d be me. I can’t help it, have you seen who I’m related to? Good genes, Arthur, it’s a curse. But you’re right, you’re lucky you found somebody like Molly; she’s fantastic. Molly for Minister, quite frankly.”

Arthur Weasley was a character, that was for sure, but he loved the man and his entire family to bits. It was almost like a fairytale how easily Molly seemed to fit with him when they first started seeing each other, how she not only became important to Arthur but to Sungmin. There was never a question in his mind about whether or not she deserved his best friend - rather, he’s pretty sure she’s the only person he’d truly believe deserved Arthur. 

Seeing them and the boys happy made his situation a little easier to bear. Maybe part of his great love for them was marred with selfishness, with the desire to be happy even if it was secondhand happiness, but he was only human. It was perfectly fine, he decided, to be just tiny bit selfish.

“Oh, the poor ghoul! I hope he finds his way back soon. Have the boys settled on a name for the ghoul? Last I heard Charlie had declared him Charlie Jr. but Percy wanted Mister Prime Minister. Merlin, five boys.” Sungmin shook his head, never happier he’d had a daughter instead. They’re just easier...well, he imagined, not like he has a son to compare but he had a hunch. 

“Unfortunate? With a lilt at the end there like you’re a little uncertain? Merlin, remind me not to actually eat anything next time I’m over for dinner lest Molly’s cooking have secret ingredient that isn’t love.”  Sungmin muffled a boisterous laugh with his palm. “Right, like Elsie’s hair color is the only physical feature to raise doubts about her Biological Weasleyness. I’d watch out if I ever did not-so-tragically die, though. She’ll teach the boys Korean and unless you and Molly study like your lives depend on it you’ll never foil any mischief again. I wouldn’t trust my ghost for help; Ghost Sungmin would have many laughs from your suffering. I think the Germans call it schadenfreude.”

Sungmin sat against a wall with his knees pulled up high enough to rest a book with a piece of paper, words hastily jotted down in between tending to people here and there. The paper split into columns labeled potions, salves, and others. For fuck’s sake, he was drawing a blank.

The hospital overrun with inferi, all of the supplies there were inaccessible. It wouldn’t be long before he’d need to get his hands on them, he’d have to make them all himself and so would all the other healers. The supplies lifted from the hospital in preparation for the siege wouldn’t last forever. Being proactive translated to survival in wartime, he had to be proactive in creating a list of the essentials, gather the needed ingredients for potions and salves, and make a stockpile.

He’d have to remember to ask Daisy about growing some plants for him.

“Wound-cleaning potions, anti-paralysis potion, burn-healing paste, dreamless sleep potion...shit, shit, what else think, just think.”  Sungmin knows this, he knows all of this, he just can’t gather his thoughts right now and to him that’s worse than not knowing the information. He taught his students to always keep a level head so why can’t he for five minutes focus on this damned list and not think about what the hell is going on. 

His elbow bumped against the two-way mirror always kept in his jacket pocket. The temptation to pull it out and just - it was strong, it was so strong, but it would have been selfish. News of the chaos probably hasn’t reached the other side of the world anyway. The list and the people here were important and only those two things.

“Fever reducing potions, anti-nausea salve, numbing salve...”

I’m not sure if she ever was a target exactly? My reason for sending her away was that I didn’t want my daughter’s life in danger because I allowed her to keep living in a war zone. I think that recent developments have added an extra layer of complication to any possibility of her homecoming. But on the other hand, it makes me want her home even more, so I can be with her before it’s too late. 

I am not as important an Order member as Alastor, James, or Minerva - perhaps apart from the war, there’s no especial danger to her after all. It’s not like she’s their daughter.

Target or not it’s just too dangerous. This war is no place for her even if she’d be overlooked.

May 21st

[3:00 AM] - Wakes up early like he does every day to have a brief two-way mirror chat with his daughter during her lunch period, 12 hours ahead of him at Mahoutokoro. The call ends at 3:10 and he goes back to sleep.

[9:00 AM] - Sungmin arrives at St. Mungo’s for his workday.

[9:45 AM] Sungmin fishes his keys to the top floor storage rooms out of his desk; nobody’s typically there at this hour, he should be able to lift the healing salves ____ asked him for, for the Order.

[10:00 AM] Isabella Zabini catches him with three containers of healing salves in his hands. He says Lily Evans, a trainee at the hospital, asked to take home small samples to try and replicate them. Isabella does not seem to believe him.

[3:00 PM] Elsie calls him on the two-way mirror to say goodnight, he tells his daughter he loves her and she tells him he’s sappy but she loves him, too.

[unknown, 1.5-3 hours before the siege depending on how late it actually is] Sungmin arrives at Hogwarts from the hospital, the makeshift hospital has already been set up. His arrival is a little belated compared to other Order members, but still graciously before the time of the planned siege.

Sungmin floats between the other healers present and Arthur and Molly since he was to be helping bring people back to The Burrow later that night.

[after the siege] 

Sungmin's a healer before he’s an Order member, so he’d likely bounce around every safehouse Order members and neutrals could be at that he was aware of to tend to those who needed it. So most likely the Potters’ and Arabella Figg’s home. Maybe Helene Delacour’s farm but it’s possible he might not be aware of it up to current date limit for threads (May 22nd, one day following). 

He would also, surprisingly to many Order members and neutral acquaintances who know him as anything but warm, be willing to offer spare rooms in Chang Manor for those displaced by inferi - if indeed he finds the manor property, as he expects due to its remote location, is not infested with inferi. 

 It’s not that I don’t trust that my brother and the rest of the aurors did their best; it’s that the people in Azkaban right now seemed rather dimwitted at their trial, like they couldn’t have pulled it off alone. I want to believe the two acted without another accomplice but part of me is either too pessimistic or too paranoid to fully accept that.

As far as what I’d do? Merlin, I don’t even know. At the time I would have said “kill them” as my knee-jerk response, but even the idea of intentionally killing somebody is disgusting to me. I suppose the healers’ oath would have to forgive me for breaking their nose.