#year4;

february 1976. fourth year. potions lab, hogwarts. @moonyinthedark

Regulus didn’t have many regrets in his life, but right now getting caught by that bloody cat Mrs. Norris and her Squib caretaker was at the top of the list. All he had been trying to do was nick a few potion ingredients from Slunghorn’s private storage when he had been caught by that stupid cat. Regulus had stolen from Slughorn plenty of times and had been overconfident in his abilities to successfully get away without being apprehended. It wasn’t even stealing as much as it was borrowing, more often than not, Regulus would order the ingredients and replenish Slughorn’s cabinet with what he had taken. Regulus just couldn’t wait until his owl order went through to the Apothecary when he was working on a very important potion.

 Slughorn confessed he was a little disappointed that Regulus had tried to steal from him, but he didn’t think it was a big issue. Instead of detention, Slughorn decided to go easy on him and have him tutor a couple of students.  Regulus would’ve preferred to take the detention than to waste his time tutoring someone. This was hell, torture, really, and he didn’t even know who he would be tutoring. He hoped it was someone he actually got on with, maybe a Slytherin in a younger year. Someone who was willing to actually learn from him. His first tutoring season was to start in five minutes, and Slughorn had reserved the whole potions lab just for them.

 The fourth year killed time by flipping through his own Potions book, he didn’t know which Potion he was going to have his victim brew since he didn’t know his tutee’s skillset or the year they were in. He would have to decide that on the spot after assessing them. They had two hours to spend together, so he had to make sure it was a Potion that can be brewed to completion in that time. Regulus heard the door to the Potions Lab open, and turned to look over his shoulder.  He blinked in confusion, and then laughed miserably at the sight he was to behold. He hoped that it was a mistake because life couldn’t be that cruel. “Please tell me you’ve got the wrong room.”  

march 1976. fourth year. dungeons/hospital wing, hogwarts. @mxrymxc

There’s a loud bang in the dungeon’s corridor and it makes Regulus Black nearly jump out of his skin. Sickening laughter follows, and it makes something in the fourteen year-old’s stomach turn. It’s too late for loud noises and laughter of that kind. It’s almost one in the morning, and the dungeon should be emptied. The teachers were in bed, and the prefects were done with their rounds. Whomever was making such a ruckus this late at night was up to no good. Regulus almost thinks it’s his brother and their lot, but he doesn’t hear Sirius’ laughter in the mix, and his brother’s laughter was something he could recognize anywhere. It’s because of that the younger immediately knows something is wrong.

He heard the laughter again, just as chilling, and paused, wondering if he should take a different route to the common room. He was threading on dangerous territory, because whatever it could be might see him and that wouldn’t end well for him. That doesn’t stop Regulus from taking a shaky breath, making a split decision to head towards the laughter instead of away from it. He heard another crash, and then a voice – harsh and cold – telling whomever he was with to keep it down. Regulus stayed along the dungeon wall, taking slow steps in an effort to keep himself from being detected.

A group of Slytherin males come in to focus, and there has to be about three or four of them there. It’s dark, and even with the light coming from the tip of one of their wands, he can’t make out much. There’s someone writhing in between them, and Regulus knows it’s not from pleasure. He has to shut his eyes, and hold his breath before he could do anything because the last thing he wants to do is make himself more nauseous than he already was from the scene before him. This was the last thing he expected to happen upon during his late night trip to the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts Library. He took out his wand, knowing he needed to get them away from her but not having a set plan he casted the first spell that came to mind. A statue nearby exploded at the hands of his Reductor Curse, bits and pieces of marble flying between the boys, and the corridor became coated in dust.

There were coughs, before someone asked “What was that?” and it made Regulus freeze in his tracks, wand still pointed for protection; he recognized their voice.

“Let’s go check it out.” said another.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He was only hoping that it would scare them enough to leave, but no, now they wanted to check it out. What kind of idiots! Regulus didn’t know what to do but knew they would find him if he didn’t act quickly. He cleared his throat, and pointed his wand to his neck casting a simple voice changing charm with Filch in mind. “Students in the corridor. Students out of bed.” The charm worked perfectly, and his voice transformed from awkward teenaged boy into that of the Hogwarts Caretaker. The words were something he had heard Filch mutter to his cat when he patrolled the corridor. It seemed to do the trick, because before he knew it, he heard footsteps running in the opposite direction, and the sounds of people scrambling away. “Leave her there! Nobody can prove it was us. Our words against the mudblood, nobo--” he didn’t hear anything else after that, their voices getting lower and lower until they were out of earshot.

Now what? Regulus moved his wand from his neck, the charm automatically discontinuing as he walked towards where they had once stood. It was still dark so he was careful, and he didn’t want to use a lightening spell and attract any attention if they were to come back. He could see the beginnings of a girl as he continued to take his careful steps. His heart beat wildly against his ribcage when he bent down and although her face was becoming swollen and decorated in blood, he could still recognize her.

Regulus didn’t know her personally, but he had seen her plenty of times around the castle. She was the Gryffindor in the year above him. A muggleborn. And now she laid beaten and unconscious on the dungeon floor. “What did they do to you, MacDonald?” he knew she couldn’t answer. He waved his wand and broke the silencing charm over her. Although he hadn’t been there when it was cast, he knew that she would’ve screamed or done something more to try and get away. The portraits would’ve heard her and alerted the Headmaster.

He didn’t know what would be best, picking her up or levitating her. Regulus knew that when someone was injured badly it was better to leave them as they were and place them on a stretcher, but he didn’t have one of those and summoning one at this hour would cause too much attention to himself. His hands were shaking, and for that reason he chose not to use levitation because he might hit her head against the wall and cause further damage. Regulus didn’t trust himself right now. He took a deep breath and lent down, easily picking up the slender girl bridal style and holding her in his arms as he made the walk to the Hospital Wing, not even caring that her ‘dirty’ blood was staining his robes.

late 1975. fourth year. hospital wing, hogwarts.  @marauder-sirius He found himself standing around Sirius’ bed for the fourth night in a row, the curtains drawn for maximum privacy. Regulus was out passed curfew again, but found that he didn’t particularly care. He had a right to be here, and he should’ve been informed of his brother’s condition the moment he landed himself into the Hospital Wing. Regulus was angry, pissed, hurt, and more than anything concerned for the elder male laying in the dreaded hospital bed.

 They said it was food poisoning but Regulus knew better. He was observant and nobody could fool him when it came to his own brother. The whole month had been odd, the events leading up to his hospitalization was a dead giveaway. The way Sirius had gotten suspended from Hogwarts (suspensions from Hogwarts was extremely rare) for two weeks, how he had written his parents and they didn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know, the way the Marauders were less… themselves while he was gone. There was something up with that group of misfits, their usual spark was gone. At first Regulus thought it was because his brother was at home and not there to play sidekick to Potter, but when Sirius returned to them nothing changed. It was like Sirius Black didn’t exist to the Marauders.

 Sirius had gotten thinner, he didn’t show up for his meals half the time and Regulus had begun to worry. If he wasn’t so against the Marauders – they had taken his brother away from him in the first place – he would’ve gone to them and demanded answers. He couldn’t go to Sirius because well, he didn’t know how. They hadn’t spoken since the summer, even when they passed each other in corridors. Their Black family bond was nonexistent during the school term, and at home they only bonded over their psychotic parents, but even then, Regulus was the good son and behaved as he was supposed to.

 The news of Sirius being hospitalized for food poisoning spread around like muggle STIs. He didn’t believe it. The timing was all wrong, and Sirius was barely around for meals to have gotten any type of food poisoning. So Regulus did what any good brother would do, he snuck into the hospital wing and read Sirius’ file. Attempted suicide. Regulus felt as if he was being punched in the gut, because he couldn’t breathe. Sirius couldn’t… he wouldn’t… how? How could he have tried to take himself away from Regulus permanently. Surely, he wasn’t the best brother, but Sirius was his and he wasn’t allowed to go and get himself killed (by his own hand, no less).

 Regulus had taken up residence by Sirius side, ever since. Only at night when the elder was sleeping. There was no way he would let his brother know he had been here, although he had taken to leaving a dozen of liquorice wands by his bedside table every night because it was both his and Sirius’ favorite candy as children. It was still his favorite, he didn’t know if it was Sirius’ and found himself wondering if his brother still fancied them. Regulus liked to sit down in the chair by the bed and watch the way his torso would as he inhaled and then exhaled right after. It was proof that he was still here, still alive and still, somehow, Regulus’. That brought the younger Black comfort. He was selfish, he realized on the second night, because he came here for comfort. He came here every night to make sure Sirius was okay, just for himself. Sirius probably didn’t want him here, and he didn’t have the balls to visit him while he was awake and test that theory himself. He was scared that Sirius would reject him, would hate him, and somehow blame Regulus for not being there for him. The Slytherin would let him, because he knew he had played some part in the neglect Sirius received from their family.

  There was so much regret on the younger’s part, and he shared that with the sleeping boy because Sirius couldn’t hear him while he was sleeping. He wouldn’t know of the blame that Regulus felt in his act, because he wasn’t a good brother, because Sirius should’ve been able to come to him, because Sirius felt as if he had no one, because Sirius was still one of the most important people in his life and Regulus would do next to anything for him, and he didn’t know it.  Sirius didn’t know that Regulus still loved him despite their differing personalities, despite the different paths they were sure to take in life, despite his rebellious nature and his flaws and mistakes, despite the fact that Sirius had replaced him with Potter, Regulus loved his elder brother and nothing could change that.

He’s lost at sea and drowning, gasping for air as he tries to hold on to a buoy in the middle of the water. It’s his only chance for survival but it disappears just as he tries to grab for it. All that’s left is for him to sink under the treacherous waves of the ocean, choking on the salt water that fills his lungs and causes them to burn. His fingertips break through the sea as he thrashes around, eyes closed together tightly as he wills himself to go higher--there’s a current that pulls him back, pulls him away and his hand becomes submerged with the rest of him in the polluted water. There’s no chance for survival now, there’s only the comfort of darkness that can be reached, and he gives in. Taemin gives into the darkness and accepts his fate, his lungs no longer burn and now he feels nothing.

  Nothing is good, better than good, it’s everything he needs. Broken hearts aren’t supposed to hurt this bad, and they shouldn’t last this long. But his does, and every second he feels as if he’s drowning. It’s the middle of June, last week of classes and he’s unable to do anything but go to his exams and then hide himself away. He goes to the seventh floor, locks himself up into the Room of Requirement. It’s a room that gives the person what they want, all you have to do is imagine it in your head and the room would do the rest. Minho showed it to him earlier this year after Taemin caught him randomly appearing behind a door that vanished as soon as he entered.

  Taemin found solace there, the room turning into his childhood bedroom at his grandparents manor. His grandparents had passed away the summer before his first year and it had hit Taemin hard. But here in this room, he thought of them. It took his mind off of other things such as that fourth year Gryffindor with the most mesmerizing eyes. Taemin could see them as clear as day when he closed his eyes and brought the Gryffindor to the forefront of his mind. Some nights he doesn’t even bother to scold himself, just let his imagination run, pretending that he was really looking into those bright and round brown eyes. His heart would never heal if he continued on like that, but without those images planted into his mind he felt dark and lonely.

  There was a falling out with the realization that his best friend had been getting chummy with the enemy. Somewhere between the millions of questions and witty banter Kibum had formed platonic feelings for the boy. Jonghyun returned the sentiments and their friendship seemed to be progressing naturally. Taemin despised it. Kibum was his. Jonghyun was his (in a way that he really wasn’t his but still his because he saw him first!). And he… he was his parents’. They owned him, every little bit of him. His personality, his class schedule, his beliefs, his thoughts, his future, him physically. Taemin didn’t have anything that was his own, and it only added to his current state of instability.

  They’re together again, Kibum’s hitting Jonghyun’s shoulder as they laugh and form a new inside joke. Kibum isn’t afraid to talk to Jonghyun in public, they were friends and Kibum refused to be ashamed of his friends, even if they were in different houses. Kibum doesn’t have to live up to anyone’s expectations except his own. He’s just that kind of person and that’s why Taemin admires him. But right now they’re not speaking and so Taemin turns on his heels and zips down the fifth floor corridor in the opposite direction. He hears Kibum calls his name, but he pretends not to hear, even as Kibum calls him an immature arse. Taemin is hurt, and Kibum knows it but he’s tired of Taemin not letting him in.

  His tears taste salty but there’s nothing that he can do to make them stop. They fall from his eyelids like a rainstorm, painful sobs leaving his chest and breaking the silence in the corridor. They’re the shattering thunder. He’s in the seventh floor corridor, a few minutes from the room of requirement but he couldn’t make it to his destination. His body felt too heavy for his knees, and they gave out half-way down the hall. His heart hurt. His lungs hurt. His eyes hurt. His head hurts. He was hurting in ways that he never wanted to hurt again. Taemin could take the bludgers flying after him during Quidditch, he could even take it when they manage to crash into his broom, and cause him to fall fifty feet, breaking his bones and cracking his ribs when he lands on the grassy pitch. He could take the hard smacks that left his cheek stinging after he gets caught snogging some other female. He could take the disappointment from his mother after he informed her Aislinn wasn’t the one he was in love with. He could take the fact that he might possibly be gay.

  But this.. he couldn’t take it. He couldn’t take seeing Jonghyun so happy with someone else, he couldn’t take the fact that he wasn’t able to completely get over him, he couldn’t take it that his best friend was living out the reality he wanted. He couldn’t take how lonely he felt since he shut himself away from his friends, who were too busy to even ask him if he was okay. They probably didn’t even notice that he had been skipping meals in the Great Hall or that he didn’t sleep in the dorms and spend time in the common room anymore. He had completely shut himself away and fell into this depressing black hole of despair and he didn’t know how he was going to claw himself out. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to, maybe it was better being away from everyone else. When you weren’t around people you couldn’t get hurt, yeah he was a crying mess now, but once the summer break came and he was out of Hogwarts he wouldn’t have to deal with anyone else.

  There’s a quiet gasp, and then a whisper of “Taemin--” that causes his breath to hitch as he looks up at the source in time to see a pair of arms wrap around his shoulders after she falls to her knees. His face becomes embedded in the crook of her neck, and he cries harder into her. There are whispers of sweet words in his ear, asking him what’s wrong and who she has to maim for doing this to him. Apparently she had been looking for him all over the castle for days, worried about not seeing him around. Aislinn was the only one who seemed to care about him lately. She had already proven that last week when she found him in the same rugged state, only he was drunk then. She comforted him, and then they kissed, and he had been avoiding her ever since because he was too messed up to deal with the consequences of kissing one of your close friends and being disappointed by the results.

  Aislinn, beautiful blue eyed, blonde haired Aislinn, was his life vest. He clung to her, hands grasping her robes, as he felt the current starting to pull him away. She wipes his tears, and plants her soft pink lips right on his forehead before she pulls him in again. “Shh,” she comforts him in a way that makes him feel like a young child being coddled by an older sibling after they’ve painfully scraped their knee, but there was no amount of bandages that could fix this. “Tae, I don’t know what’s bothering you, but whatever it is--it’s going to be alright, I can promise you that.” Taemin doesn’t have the energy or optimism to deal with empty promises, but the sincerity in her words and the comfort of her embrace makes him believe her.

  “Don’t promise me anything, Ais.” He mumbles, “I don’t want promises.”

  “Then what do you want? Tell me what you need Taemin, and I will give it to you.” there’s a hint of desperation in her tone that he didn’t quite understand. Seeing Taemin like this was just as painful for Aislinn as it was for him, and if she could do anything to make Taemin feel alright, she would; even if that meant taking some of his burdens and placing them on her own frail shoulders. She would give anything to make him happy. That’s what you do when you were in love, and Aislinn was so far gone.

  “Stay with me.” Taemin whispers so quietly that Aislinn has to strain her ears just to hear him.

  A chuckle leaves her throat as she slips her hand under his white button down and rubs his back in soothing circles.

With twenty minutes left till the end of Valentine’s Day, Taemin climbs down the owlry stairs after sending off his gift with one of the school owls. It was almost his thing, sending gifts last minute but just like Christmas he had been in a debate with himself. Should he send it, should he not? Was it good enough or should he toss out the idea and get him something else? This was Jonghyun Kim he was sending it to and Jonghyun was only getting more admirers as the days went on, how could Taemin’s gift compare or stand out? He could only hope that Jonghyun liked his gift ideas, he had no way of telling what happened after Jonghyun received his present during Christmas. If anything Jonghyun probably threw it in the trash, because honestly, the present was a bit forward and just a tad bit creepy.

  This time, Taemin opted for subtly. While all Jonghyun’s admires were sending him gigantic chocolate hearts, flowers, confessional letters, sweets laced with love potion, random stuffed animals, and sing-o-grams (which followed the recipient around until the telegram was finished with its song, Taemin couldn’t even laugh at how pathetic that was---he had gotten his fair share, as well); Taemin had sent in something useful. Something that was completely him and he had given much thought and consideration to. It was in a hexagon shaped box, crimson in color with a golden fabric exterior. Inside hosted a dozen glass vials, all filled with potions, six different varieties.

  Jonghyun wasn’t that good with potions; Taemin had observed him during their classes. Potions was a core subject and required for the first five years. Taemin thinks Jonghyun isn’t going to pass their Potions O.W.L next year, sometimes he wants to offer him tutoring but given their public history Taemin didn’t know how to approach and Jonghyun would probably think the Slytherin was mocking him for his lackluster skills while it was well-known Potions is one of Taemin’s specialties.

  Taemin brewed all six potions by himself, it had taken months for some of them to finish. Acquiring some of the ingredients had been hard and costly but it was worth it. Just knowing that he was creating something for the person he loved made him work diligently in the room of requirement, sometimes falling asleep while tending to them when it was late, and paranoid that he might ruin one if he didn’t attend to it at the right time. There were times he skipped classes just to stir them or add an ingredient. But they were completed and he could stop stressing now.

  Polyjuice Potion was the first potion he started brewing, it was also the one that took the longest to complete.

  Each of the potions were labeled accordingly, with a little message attached. ‘Polyjuice Potion’ that was the first potion he started brewing, and the one that took the longest. ‘In case you ever want to have some fun or need to get out of a sticky situation’ ‘Baruffio's Brain Elixir’ a potion that is supposed to increase the taker’s brain power. Taemin thought it was perfect for the Gryffindor and even captioned it ‘you’ll need it during exam time if you want to make it to fifth year Potions’. He may have just insulted the boy he loved and promoted cheating, but he wanted Jonghyun to pass Potions this year and not be stuck on a fourth year Potions curriculum. Who else would he stare at during class? ‘Love Potion Antidote’ it was probably the most random of the six, but Taemin thought it would be the most useful on a day like this. ‘self-explanatory, please don’t eat the ‘homemade’ chocolates your fangirls have given you’ ‘Dreamless Sleep Potion’ it wasn’t hard to acquire this potion in Hogwarts, the healer had a whole stash in her potions cabinet but she always kept it locked. Taemin knew that because he wanted to rummage for potions ingredients and couldn’t crack her advanced locking charm, ‘for those nights when you can’t sleep and your mind is plagued with too many thoughts’ ‘Mopsus Potion’ this one was the most advanced Taemin had brewed and to make sure that he got it right he let Minho try it out. Minho didn’t tell him what he saw, but according to him it worked, so Taemin was exceptionally pleased. ‘just for fun; may your future be bright and filled with many happy things, and maybe… me’  Lastly, ‘Truth Potion’ It wasn’t as strong as Veritaserum (because he had yet to perfect the super advanced potion) but it was a strong potion that lasted all of twenty-four hours on the person it was given to.  ‘because nobody likes a liar; try not to take advantage of this one’ Taemin also made sure to brew an antidote and keep it on him just in case Jonghyun plotted against him and slipped some into his morning pumpkin juice. Taemin wouldn’t put it passed him.

  All in all, Taemin was proud of his gift, and to add a cherry on top he even gifted the Gryffindor with a dozen flowers. Cheesy, yes, but these flowers were unique and he was sure while everyone was sending Jonghyun roses and lilies, he would never get sent diphylleia grayi. Those flowers were white, and appeared to be like normal flowers, except when it rains, the petals turn transparent. They were Taemin’s favorite ever since he was little. His grandmother used to plant them in her garden and Taemin would be in awe, wrapped in his grandparent’s arms as he watched the flowers turned from white to clear. When he was younger, that was enough magic for him to wrap his head around.

  There’s a small card attached around the flowers that reads, ‘If you haven’t noticed, I still love you… p.s: water the flowers immediately; you’ll be amazed, I swear’ Something Taemin thought to add just so Jonghyun would know they were gifted by the same person who sent the charmed bluebell fire. the fourth year Slytherin was bold this time, instead of disguising his handwriting he left it as is. The brunette would never realize that it was Taemin’s neat handwriting from just a glance, as he had never seen it up close before.

  Taemin arrives down to the dungeons after midnight without incident, tiredly crawling up the steps to his dorm with a look of jealousy on his face after catching a few couples snogging in the common room. His bed is filled with gifts from his female admirers and he doesn’t take his time to comb over the gifts and write little thank you notes, like he saw Kibum and Minho doing earlier. Instead he waves his wand and watches as the gifts disappear to return back to their original sender. It was the fourth time today he used that spell, not even caring about the hurt feelings the women will be suffering from by the blatant rejection. Taemin was rejected and insulted constantly by the person he loved, and if he could get over it and continue on with his day, they could do the same.

He’s sitting outside of the Charms classroom chatting with Benjamin Jones, a Ravenclaw and one of his best friends since first year. That’s when the laughter dies on his lips and he’s left with a bitter taste in his mouth. He sees them together again and he knows they’re best friends but it doesn’t do anything to ease his mind which was already working overtime with absentminded thoughts of the brunette.

  This isn’t that one piece of loose thread that causes his feelings to unravel, but it contributes to it. It’s a reminder that out of everything Jonghyun is, or is perceived to be, he isn’t gay. He wraps his arms around her shoulder and pulls her close, whispering something in her ear as he leads her down the corridor, no glances spared in Taemin’s direction. To be fair, it’s probably because Kim hasn’t noticed him huddled on the floor with a book in his lap and a frown digging deep into his face.

  “That guy is an idiot.” His shoulder is being nudged by Benjy, who is either too perceptive, or perhaps, just knows Taemin a little too well not to know about his feelings. They’ve never spoken them out loud or hinted to them, but it’s one of those things that go without saying. “A pompous idiot who only gets girls because he’s attractive, not because they know anything about his “dazzling” personality.” Benjy has told him things like this before, and he’s also thrown in subtle comments about how Taemin could do better. The Ravenclaw fourth year has had classes with Jonghyun Kim, too, but they were nothing more than peers. Taemin doesn’t take anything the Ravenclaw says to heart, how can he when Benjy didn’t know the first thing about Jonghyun. Honestly speaking, neither does Taemin and he knows that, and hates it more than he dislikes the taste of mince pies. “He’s a tosser, really. I’ve heard things about him.”

He slipped it in casually during a recent letter to his mum, an ‘I met someone, or rather, I’ve known this person for quite some time but have just come to realize the true nature of my feelings. I think I’m in love.’ In all honesty he wasn’t expecting much back in response, mostly a letter undermining his feelings and playing them off as if they didn’t exist. His mother always wanted to control every aspect of her children’s life and with two of three children being away at school it only made her yearn for more control. To Mrs. Lee her children weren’t just her children, they were her prized possessions and the more they progressed and blossomed into successful human beings, the more proud she became. They were her life’s work, and there was no room for failure and displeasure.

  Oh, what is this? My charming youngest son has met someone? Please tell me it’s that darling Aislinn Cavanaugh. The both of you would look exceptionally well together. The envy of everyone! Charlotte even agrees with me. There is not a better boy for her daughter! The only thing I worry about is the children having freckles, that family has as many freckles as they do galleons. Such a pity. I keep telling Charlotte there’s a potion and a few glamours that can fix that right up but of course she never listens. Sigh. You just can’t help everyone, now can you? Oh, right, where was I, dear?  Yes, yes. Aislinn. She’s quite a lovely young woman, very intelligent…

  Taemin stopped reading then and there and set the letter on fire, right in the Great Hall, before he could digest the rest of her nauseating words. He sent back a reply the next morning, after he spent the night venting to Kibum in their dorm, which only contained the following three words: It’s not Aislinn. Her reply arrived by dinner, he was already expecting it and knew the basis of what it would contain.

  What do you mean it’s not Aislinn? I’m going to be honest; I’m disappointed and am asking you to reconsider. You don’t love this person, son. You’re young and your feelings will pass. Now in the meantime, you should really consider Aislinn. Taesun said there’s a Hogsmeade trip coming up soon, why don’t you ask her to be your date? I’ve spoken to Charlotte and she says Aislinn always raves about you in her letters home, I know she’ll say yes.

  His eyes are taken off of his mother’s words as he lets out a laugh, his breath visible in January’s cold winter’s air. It’s a long minute before his laughter ends with a choked sob and he’s ripping the letter into pieces and lets the wind blow them away from the Quidditch pitch. His gloved hand is working to wipe at his eyes, removing the moisture that falls from them. He wasn’t crying. It was just the cold weather making his eyes watery.

  It was a joke, his feelings were a complete joke; to his mother, his elder brother, his friends, and probably to Jonghyun as well. There was no one that would ever take him seriously if he had admitted to his feeling publicly. Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to confess to Jonghyun, to stand in front of the brunette and tell him that he loves him. It’d be sudden and surprising but maybe… no. Taemin couldn’t get his hopes up only for them to be smacked down by reality. It would be disgusting. Boys weren’t supposed to love boys. Even if it were acceptable, boys like Taemin Lee were supposed to love girls like Aislinn Cavanaugh and not boys like Jonghyun Kim.

  Taemin didn’t want to love boys like Jonghyun, anyway. He just wanted one boy. Jonghyun. Not someone like him; why settle for a cheap imitation when the real thing was taking up residency in the same bleeding castle? Taemin didn’t understand why out of all the people in the castle he would fall for Jonghyun, and maybe it wasn’t really love. He didn’t know him as well as other people did. He only knew what he saw, and what he saw he absolutely adored but it wasn’t enough. Taemin wanted to dive deeper into the depths of Jonghyun Kim but he didn’t know how, and he wasn’t one for stalking. He just wanted to know everything about the boy who enticed him so, who wouldn’t leave his head for more than a few minutes and spent his nights evading his dreams.

  He loves him, he knows this. It feels a lot like love or what he always imagined love to be. Love was more than blood status and money, more than outside appearances and arranged marriages. Love was being with someone who made you happy, it was learning about someone and maybe not liking everything but accepting it because it makes that person who they are. Love is forgiveness, love is… the feeling of breathlessness and nerves he gets when Jonghyun looks in his direction. The warmth that courses through his veins when he hears the other laugh, the way his heart contracts and he feels whole when Jonghyun smiles. That was love to him. But was it enough to upset his family and go against everything he was taught? If it wasn’t, was it still love? Fourteen years-old Taemin knew that not all love was worth fighting for, but this was Jonghyun and that changed everything.

  “Taem, you’re a bit early for practice. Doesn’t start for a good twenty minutes!” a hand comes up and pats him hard on his back, causing him to shift forward on his broom. “Trying to get on Captain Flint’s good side? Doesn’t matter, I’m still going to take over Quidditch captain next year.” The handsome fifth year circles around Taemin on his broom, a smirk etched into his features as he watches the other, his look going from curious to concern with he notices the tense silence. He’s just about to question it when Taemin beats him to the punch.

  “Minho, I’m in love with Jonghyun and I think I’m gay.”

  His circling stops at once, and he turns to face Taemin. The look on his face was unreadable as his eyes stops to search the fourth year. Minho whistles as he lets out a breath “…what did you say?” he wanted to make sure he heard correctly because in all honesty.

  “I said…” but Taemin stops speaking before he could get the words out of his mouth. Had he just come out to Minho? It was unplanned and unexpected, usually Taemin was good at hiding his emotions but he was in a state of panic and his face showed that as he looked everywhere but the chaser. His hands trembled as he tries to grip his broomstick tighter for support. “Nothing.”

  A snort sounds from the other before a crooked grin appears on his face. He resumes circling around Taemin again. “Didn’t sound like nothin’. C’mon, we’re best friends, are we not? We’ve seen each other naked, slept in the same bed, I think it’s okay for us to add a little honesty to our friendship. So you’re in love with Jonghyun Kim for some odd reason, and you think you’re gay.”

  The calm and playful tone in Minho’s voice is enough to put Taemin at ease and calm his panicking, his hands were still trembling and all he could do was give a slow nod of his head in response.  

  “We both know that’s bullshit.” Minho laughs and nudges Taemin’s arm with his shoulder. The seeker only grunts in response, his brows knitting together in slight offense. “How does someone think they’re gay? It’s a black or white thing, mate. Either you are or you’re not! You can be bisexual but let’s be honest; you’re all talk and no play with the ladies, Taem. So, you’re gay. You are. You don’t think you are, you just can’t let something as “imperfect”, “twinky” and “irregular” mess up the image you got going on for mummy and daddy, it’s cool. I get it.” He gives a slow nod and reaches out to place a supportive hand on Taemin’s shoulder, massaging it lightly as he continues on chatting like everything was completely normal, and for once Taemin felt like maybe things could be. “As for the Jonghyun thing. That wanker? Are you sure you’re not under the imperious curse? The Taemin I know would have much better taste than a bloody Gryffindor. But hey, if anyone can tame that lion--it’s you.”

  Before he could stop himself a laugh escapes from parted lips which wastes no time and escalades into a wide smile. A warm happiness spreads through his body, the correspondence with his mother temporarily forgotten. “I don’t know about that. I don't think he bats for our team. Have you seen the way he and the muggleborn are always together?”

The glass jar sits on the desk in his room, the blue flame within flickering madly causing the Slytherin to laugh as he observes it from his chair. Bluebell flames. Bright blue fire that was waterproof and can be touched and held without burning the holder. Such a simple charm that was taught in first year, Taemin had learned it on his first try. These flames were different in the fact that they had been manipulated by more powerful and complicated spells. This flame, contained in the small rose colored mason jar, could not burn out until the feelings of the caster ceased to exist. As in Taemin had to fall out of love with the person it was for.

  It was a present, or was supposed to be a present for Christmas but he had yet to send it out even as the time continued to tick on counting down the minutes until Christmas was over. He had less than an hour and a half until the grandfather clock down the hall would chime and signal that it was midnight. The present had been ready for weeks, but he didn’t have the nerve to send it by owl then. He wasn’t sure if he had the nerve now even though there would be no way to trace the present back to him. It would be sent anonymously, he had borrowed his sister's owl with that purpose, and the single sentence note he had written inside was written with a quill that would change the writer’s penmanship. In other words, there was no way to trace the present back to him.

  His laughter finally dies on his lips as he taps the lid of the jar with the tip of his fingernails. It was a simple present and most receivers of such a gift wouldn’t give it much thought when it arrived, but it weighed heavy on him for so many different reasons. This the most meaningful present he could ever give someone, and he wasn’t sure he was ready. That flame represented his love, it would only go out when his feelings of intense love were no more. The fire was contained into a jar, just like his feelings had to be kept contained within his very being. The Gryffindor that it was going to would never realize just how much thought Taemin had given to this, how many nights he poured over his book of advanced spells and charms to find the right ones. How he spent hours practicing them to perfection, how once he finally set everything up, how he had to spend weeks finding the nerve to send it out. There was a reason Taemin wasn’t a Gryffindor and dawned green and sliver instead.

  He places the jar back into the square blue and silver striped box, on top of a piece of parchment embroidered with a single sentence: ‘the flames will only burn out when my love for you dies.’ There’s a gift tag attached to the top of the box with a single name written neatly in dark letters ‘Jonghyun Kim’, he traces the bold letters with his finger as he chews on his lip. He’s going to send it, he decides, placing the top on the box and calling for his sister's owl perched on the windowsill.