
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11586330.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      방탄소년단_|_Bangtan_Boys_|_BTS
  Relationship:
      Kim_Namjoon_|_Rap_Monster/Kim_Seokjin_|_Jin, Kim_Taehyung_|_V/Park_Jimin,
      Jeon_Jungkook/Kim_Taehyung_|_V, Jeon_Jungkook/Kim_Namjoon_|_Rap_Monster
  Character:
      Kim_Namjoon_|_Rap_Monster, Kim_Seokjin_|_Jin, Min_Yoongi_|_Suga, Jung
      Hoseok_|_J-Hope, Park_Jimin_(BTS), Kim_Taehyung_|_V, Jeon_Jungkook
  Additional Tags:
      hp!au, Harry_Potter_alternate_universe, Love_Triangle, Mirror_of_Erised,
      The_Marauder's_Map, Love_Potion/Spell, drama_but_it_all_ends_happily,
      some_angst_but_it_ends_up_okay_trust_me, so_the_taekook_begins, vmin_are
      friends_who_jerk_off_together, Smut, Fluff, Angst_with_a_Happy_Ending,
      Hand_Jobs, Vmin_are_not_together, Just_to_be_clear_they_are_only
      bestfriends_who_jerk_each_other_off
  Series:
      Part 3 of Harry_Potter_AU_Oneshots
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-07-23 Words: 6737
****** We Mustn't Touch What Isn't Ours ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     In which Namjoon accidentally drinks a love potion, Taehyung and
     Jimin do a little mischievous marauding.
Notes
     Hi! If this is your first time with us, here are the first two
     stories in this series:
     Part_1
     Part_2
      
     You don’t need to have read them to understand this and vice versa
     but it might help enrich the experience as all the stories are
     interconnected. Enjoy!
      
     EDIT: Better to read the first two parts before this.
      
     Also, trust me--there’s some drama in this but it’ll be fine.
     Tumblr || Twitter
It happens by accident: an innocent mistake, the kind of thing that could have
so easily gone another way, that they could have both gotten away from--Seokjin
had told Namjoon millions of times to not eat or drink in the goddamn potions
lab and if he’d done as Seokjin had told him for once, it never would’ve
happened but he didn’t, so it does, late on a Friday evening like any other.
All the lamps are lit in the potions lab at the end of the dungeon, a number of
solutions going through tedious processes at once--bubbling purples, simmering
ambers: Seokjin has a deadline to chase, is intent on having all his samples
submitted for approval by the Magical Bureau of Affect & Emotion (Magical BAE)
before end of term. Seokjin is, for the fourteenth consecutive night (twenty-
eighth really, if one goes by time-turner chronology), sitting in his lab, the
only one lit in the entire underground at half-past midnight.
It’s long after he’s checked the prefects’ reports and made sure that every
single student from Gryffindor was safe in the dorms, asleep or pretending to
be, and he’s still not done with the day’s work. He sighs, capping the rose-
gold essence with a cork. Just two more samples. He checks the temperature
reflected on the outer sphere of the Flamel Distiller before reaching for a
flask into which to decant the amber solution: the final sample, the deadliest
dose of what he’s decided to call Amortentia Deluxe--not some cheap-o love
potion but the love potion, made from Proximius Rosoideae, the mechanism rigged
to change a person’s chemical make-up not just to mimic attraction, but to
synthesize it, literally becoming the soulmate of whoever they first set eyes
on after ingestion. Seokjin has dedicated his entire scholarly life thus far to
this potion, always having been wildly interested in the constructs of
attraction and desire--because while he’d been attractive all his life, he’d
never quite fallen in love. He figures, if you don’t have a soulmate, it should
be fair that you can make the choice to be someone’s someone, somebody’s
somebody. He curses, realizing he’s out of proper flasks, settles for an
ordinary goblet in the meantime, one that he’d been planning to use for his
late night iced Macchiato. Oh well.
When the dungeon gate swings open, he thinks it might be Filch coming to do a
grounds check, is halfway through explaining that he has a night pass, signed
by the headmistress herself when he looks up and finds himself face-to-face
with Hufflepuff Head Boy Kim Namjoon. To Seokjin’s chagrin, Namjoon is sipping
an iced Macchiato from a goblet, the smell of coffee wafting toward him with
zero mercy as Namjoon walks in and puts his glass on the table beside Seokjin.
He could kill him.
“Number one,” Seokjin says, peering at a cauldron of blue mixture he’s
preparing for another trial. “What are you doing here? And number two, how many
times have I told you no eating and drinking in my lab?”
“Professor Choi told me to come get you because you’re past the limit. She said
if you’re not out within the next twenty minutes, she’s taking fifty points
from Gryffindor. You guys are already behind everywhere else--”
Seokjin looks at him sharply. “--well if I get this approved by the Magical
BAE, then we’ll be gaining more points than we ever have for Quidditch, for
your information. We’ll be making a breakthrough--”
“--you mean the eradication of the concept of a spinster?”
“I mean prestige and achievement and finally being able to prove that whatever
nature lacks, we can make up for through the magical sciences,” Seokjin says
proudly, grinning as he dusts Hag Bone ash into the mixture.
“When’d you become so serious? Where did you put my friend, huh?” Namjoon
chides. “You used to be so much fun.”
Seokjin grins. He and Namjoon certainly didhave a lot of good times when they
were younger: the kind of steamy sex that came based on trust and friendship,
two pals doing each other a solid, each of them paying attention to each
others’ quirks, kinks, pleasure points. If soulmates existed, Seokjin thinks,
that would’ve probably come to fruition by now--instead it had fizzled out,
both of them falling into a more platonic dynamic, prioritizing school, other
people.
“You only say that because I’m the only Animagus you know who ever put out when
you were in heat, you dolt.”
Namjoon blushes. “Actually--”
Seokjin raises his eyebrows as he pours the blue solution into a bain marie,
setting the chemical howler for five minutes. “--interesting. Anyone I know?”
Namjoon smiles, proud, his heart fluttering as he thinks of handsome, talented,
sexy Jungkook, of how much he misses him since he’s been away. “He may or may
not be a certain Hogwarts Triwizard champion coming home on Tuesday after you
know, jumping through flames, taming dragons, that sorta thing.”
“Ooooh,” Seokjin says, clapping Namjoon on the shoulder. “Nice. He’s cute.
Isn’t his default a bunny though? How’d you manage?”
Namjoon grins again. “I taught him--”
Seokjin shakes his head, smiling. “Of course you did.”
“Have you met anyone?” Namjoon asks. “I know you always said that relationships
weren’t your thing but it’s been awhile since that conversation. And I’m sure
you know this, as you’re always so callously pointing it out but--you’re a
great guy, smart, good looking, you cook well, top well, bottom even better.
Anyone would be lucky.”
Seokjin snorts. “All of thatis true but nope--it’s still the casual life for
me. I just haven’t found anyone who’s made me feel that thing, you know? That
kind of connection where I don’t need to explain what I mean, they’ll just get
it.”
“I’m not sure that exists,” Namjoon says pointedly, leaning back on the
counter. “Everyone has to try.”
Seokjin shrugs. “Maybe, maybe not. Maybe one day I’ll just find someone I like
and drink my own damn potion.”
Namjoon laughs, reaches for his goblet of coffee. “Maybe. If you’d do that for
someone, though--wouldn’t that mean you were probably already in love with
them?”
“The problem isn’t falling in love with someone, it’s finding someone who knows
how to love me the right way, read my cues, that kind of thing.” Seokjin purses
his lips. “I haven’t found anyone who gets me.”
Namjoon takes a sip from his coffee. “I see. That makes sense. Someone will,
one day, Seokjinnie. By hook or by crook.”
It takes them both a moment to realize the mistake, the misnomer, as Namjoon
puts the cup down, his lips coming away tasting like honey instead of coffee.
Both of them look down at the goblet he’s just set on the counter, the remnants
of the amber liquid still creating a film on the bottom of the glass. Their
eyes meet, wide in horror.
“Oh no,” Seokjin says.
“Oh no,” Namjoon echoes, shutting his eyes. “No. No, no, no, no.”
 
Breakfast the next day is tense--Namjoon is in a foul mood, is the snippiest
anyone can remember him being. He had run away from the dungeon the night
before, not wanting to look at Seokjin, the very thought of it feeling like a
betrayal because he didwant to look at Seokjin, was already feeling the potion
starting to take effect, the very thought of Seokjin--his name, his frame, the
sight of him--changing state in his mind like granules of sugar melting into
glaze: sticky, sweet.
“Taehyung,” he barks at Kim Taehyung, who is sitting huddled with Jimin at the
Slytherin table, both of them bent over parchment that Jimin quickly rolls up
and stuffs into his robe pocket. “No changing tables! The other Slytherins need
space to eat.”
“Jeez,” Jimin says, gesturing to the length of the table, the vacant seats.
“There’s plenty of room!”
Taehyung sighs, exasperated as Namjoon just stares them down, his expression
refusing to change. “Fine, fine. I’ll see you later, Jiminnie--at the you-know-
where.”
Jimin nods. “See you. Don’t let Dragon-joon eat you alive.”
“What’s gotten into you?” Yoongi asks Namjoon, sitting down beside Jimin,
Hoseok joining him. “Tae can sit at our table. I don’t know if you’ve noticed
this--but as a general rule, Slytherins aren’t exactly morning people. Our
dorms are in the biggest dungeon for crying out loud. We sleep in when we can
and it’s Saturday.”
“Ah, yes, the goddamn dungeons,” Namjoon mutters before pointing at Yoongi.
“You’re a prefect, for Godric Gryffindor’s sake! You’re not supposed to be
condoning this kind of behavior. And you--”--he points at Hoseok--”--you’re
Head Boy! What do the other Ravenclaws think of you sitting here?”
Hoseok shrugs, unable to hide the smile that makes his dimples crease. “That
Jung Hoseok must be a masochist because obviously Min Yoongi has brought a
billion muggle things to ask him about but he’s got him as potions lab partner
and he needs help with e-parchments so he doesn’t really have a choice?”
Yoongi blushes, trying to hide the Muggle headphones and music player he’s
brought to ask Hoseok about under his robes.
The obviousness of their attraction to each other makes Namjoon want to throw
up or throw something at someone--mostly because he finds himself thinking of
Seokjin’s shoulders, his throat, the way that his skin looks. No. No, you’re
spoken for. No. Think of Jungkook.“You two are impossible.”
“No,” Jimin corrects. “You’re just really uptight--”
Just then, Namjoon catches a glimpse of Seokjin leaving the Great Hall through
the East doors--and then reappearing through the entrance nearest them, just
coming out of time travel. Damn time turner. As if one of him wasn’t enough.
With that, Namjoon turns on his heel and runs the other way, in the direction
of the faculty table, before sitting down and trying to hide himself in the
throng of bleary-eyed Hufflepuffs settling down to eat breakfast.
 
To say that Taehyung is excited for his and Jimin’s session this week is an
understatement--with NEWTs coming up, all the studying has him extremely tense,
wound up. It isn’t something they can get away with doing too often, what with
the Mirror of Erised being moved from room to room by faculty--but they could
usually manage with the porn Pensieve material they’d gathered over the years,
sharing memories between them of what they saw in the mirror, their fantasies
sneaking into one another's’ material, enhancing it, enriching it (Taehyung’s
personal favorite is the one he had right after he’d watched Jimin’s Jeonghan
locker room one--the Jeonghan-Hoshi-DK threesome). It was the perfect set-up
for them, really: weeks of filling their minds with new material with which the
mirror could work to surprise them. The way that they did it changed up,
depending on what they wanted, what they were in the mood for, what the mirror
showed them. Sometimes, they did it side-by-side, sometimes they did it for
each other, sometimes they did both--once to what they saw, and then again to
what the other described. It was a nice arrangement, comfortable: Taehyung and
Jimin trust each other with their lives. Their two rules are simple--they keep
it secret and if either of them falls in love with anyone else, they stop. It’s
worked for the past six years.
Stumbling onto the Marauder’s Map toward the tail-end of their first year
(accidentally found in and taken from a secret compartment in the Weasley’s old
joke shop on Diagon Alley, now a shoe store) has definitely helped keep their
sessions going: as a rule, the mirror is usually wherever Professor Hwang goes
as assisted by Filch, who knows where all of the castle’s best hiding places
are. On Tuesday, they’d opened the map to see Professor Hwang and Filch moving
from one of the rooms in the Divination Tower, where they knew for a fact that
the mirror had been because it was where they’d had their last session, and
into the fifth room from the Transfiguration classroom. Much nearer, much
easier for them to get to.
Now, they walk slowly down the corridor, hidden by one of the more complex
charms that Jimin has learned and cast on one of his blankets to mimic the
effect of an Invisibility cloak. They go slow but steady, Taehyung holding the
map open in front of them. So far, the coast is clear. When they reach the
door, Jimin whispers alohomora and the door unlocks. They grin at each other as
the door clicks shut behind them and they cast off the blanket and walk to the
mirror. Hello again, my old friend.
“Ready?” Jimin asks, taking a seat in front of the mirror.
“More than you know,” Taehyung says, plopping down next to him, putting his
wand out on the floor and cracking his knuckles, leaning back for the ride--but
when he looks up into the mirror and sees what he sees, it dawns on him that he
is, as a matter of fact, not ready for this at all.
 
The lights in the lab flicker and then turn on, bright, almost blinding.
Seokjin leans his forehead against the countertop. He’s exhausted. He has spent
the whole day going back in time (unauthorized, too) trying to stretch his
Saturday to figure out an antidote--of course, he’d found nothing, had
literally outdone himself, having made the love potion foolproof: true love in
a bottle. Fuck.They could go to the headmistress, he decides. She would know
what to do. He would step down as Head Boy, forfeit his early admission, beg
Jungkook for forgiveness. Maybe it could be worked around, maybe he could teach
Namjoon how to unlove him. He thinks back to two years ago, that time when
they’d been sleeping together: as humans, as cats, as friends. It was fun but
there wasn’t any real intimacy there, no spark that got under your skin like
love was supposed to. He could hold onto that, remind Namjoon of that.
“Seokjin.”
“Jeezus,” Seokjin jumps.
Namjoon is leaning by the doorway, hands gripping the bars of the dungeon gate,
his knuckles white. They just look at each other for a while: Namjoon thinks
Seokjin looks beautiful, suddenly feels like a veil has been lifted, like his
vision has been rearranged or re-oriented the way that sometimes you saw a
puzzle for its pieces and not for the bigger picture--suddenly, he is
incredibly aware of the way that Seokjin’s throat moves when he swallows, the
way that his skin has the faintest blush to it, the overall beauty the
proportions of his features made up, those lips, those eyes, that nose. 
“I don’t think I should come any closer,” Namjoon says, averting his eyes. He
tries to think of Jungkook lying in his arms, the way that Jungkook crinkled
his nose when he laughed, the way that his lips curled up to the left, the way
that he was at once strong and vulnerable, cute and sexy. He imagines it all
but the memory feels distant like it happened so long ago: they’re only words,
only pictures held up, away.
“I’m so sorry,” Seokjin half-whispers. It’s painful seeing Namjoon like this--
and yet, the way that he’s looking at Seokjin calls to him, makes another ache
rise in him too: that dark curiosity, the wanting to know if what he’d made
worked, if it would make a difference. If they kissed now, would the altered
chemistry make his heart race, would Namjoon know where to touch him? Would he
know what to say, what felt good? Would altered vision mean he could read the
signs? Seokjin backs up as Namjoon crosses the threshold, tries to put the
counter between them. “I--I don’t think you should come any closer either. I’ll
fix it. I’ll talk to Jungkook.”
Namjoon shakes his head. “I’ll talk to Jungkook. This is my responsibility. It
was my fault. I didn’t follow lab rules. I--what do I do, Seokjin? I don’t
think I can go back. You’re everything I want. I feel like I’m dying.”
“You have to, Namjoon--”
Namjoon traverses the counter, holding on, trying to keep himself from closing
the space between them. Their eyes meet and a bolt of something runs through
Seokjin--he doesn’t know what it is, really, but there’s something in the way
that Namjoon is looking at him like he’s the most important person alive: it’s
a current, a spark, a thrill. What’s happening? It’s only supposed to work on
him.He says it again, repeating it like a mantra: I’ll fix it, I’ll fix it,
realizing that Namjoon is bridging the gap between them.
When they are only inches apart, their shoulders almost touching, Namjoon’s
hands straining short of Seokjin and moving instead onto the adjacent the
countertop, veering to the left, the realization strikes Seokjin like a fire
flickering under a pot, licking at his consciousness: it wasn’t a one-way
street. If someone loved you perfectly, wouldn’t you want them to?
“I’ll fix it,” Seokjin says again. 
Namjoon turns away, the effort of it exhausting. Seokjin sees the muscles on
Namjoon’s forearms clench from the effort to keep his hands on the counter, to
not brush Seokjin’s hair back or pull him closer, bring their lips together.
“You’ll fix it,” Namjoon repeats. “Jungkook comes home on Tuesday. You have to
fix it by then.”
They look at each other one last time before Seokjin gathers his books, pushes
past Namjoon and rushes out of the lab, tears stinging his eyes. What have I
done?
 
“Is it a good one this time, Tae?” Jimin asks, his voice breathless as they sit
side by side, looking at the mirror. Their pants are pooled at their knees as
they lean against each other, both bound in the same pleasure spell. Taehyung
nods, his heart thumping in his chest as Jimin strokes his cock, getting the
pressure just right to send chills down Taehyung's spine. He tries not to get
distracted, moves his own thumb to roam the head of Jimin’s cock, brushing the
slit, taking the way Jimin arches his back as a good sign.
“Yeah,” Taehyung says--because goddamn, it is a good one, maybe the best, and
also the one memory he would never give Jimin. Ever. In the mirror, Taehyung
sees himself pushing Jungkook (sweaty, still in his Quidditch pants) back onto
the bed, kissing his neck, his throat, his collarbones, the curve of his
shoulder, making his way down his chest, his torso, his hips. As beautiful as
his body is, what Taehyung finds the most arousing is the look on Jungkook’s
face: eyes glazed over in pleasure, his mouth slack, brows furrowed as he moans
when Taehyung-in-the-mirror undoes his pants, takes his cock into his mouth.
“You?”
“Mmmhm. Mmm--” Jimin struggles to form a coherent sentence as Taehyung starts
to pump him faster, harder. In the mirror, Jimin sees Slytherin Head Boy Park
Chanyeol lying on his back as Jimin-in-the-mirror rides him. You’re so
pretty,Chanyeol-in-the-mirror is saying as they go faster, Chanyeol’s hand
coming up stroke Jimin-in-the-mirror who throws his head back in pleasure.
Jimin finds himself fucking into Taehyung’s hand, craving release. “Oh fuck
that’s good. Oh god, it’s so good--”
Taehyung finds himself gasping as Jimin starts to concentrate the motion of his
palm toward the head of his cock--a technique learned from years of experience
with one another's bodies. Taehyung starts to throb. In the mirror, he has two
fingers in Jungkook, his free hand stroking his cock while licking at the tip.
Jungkook is moaning Taehyung’s name, running his hands through Taehyung’s hair,
eyes focused on his lips slick with spit, on his tongue as he starts to lick--
Jungkook arches his back. Jimin goes quicker and quicker still while thrusting
faster into Taehyung’s hand, against his palm. In the mirror, Jungkook tells
Taehyung to get him off, to help him shoot his load in his mouth please.”Oh
fuck--”
Taehyung cums into Jimin’s hand, over his belly but doesn’t move his eyes from
the mirror, transfixed at what’s happening there. We’re cuddling.His own grasp
on Jimin’s cock loosens involuntarily as he shudders, is taken over by his
climax. Jimin mewls at the sudden loss of contact before gently removing
Taehyung’s hand from his cock, smoothing his palm across Taehyung’s belly and
using his cum to help himself get off, going at his own pace: urgent, close,
hard. Jimin cums thick, wet, hot, the dripping down his shaft and onto his
plush thighs.
“Oh fuck,” he says as he and Taehyung lay back, sweaty, sated, sweat dripping
down the ends of their hair.
Taehyung looks up at the ceiling, lost in the aftermath of his orgasm combined
with that last thing he’d seen in the mirror, the thing that really got him. I
really, really like you, Tae, Jungkook-in-the-mirror had mouthed as Taehyung
spooned him, kissed the shell of his ear. I love you,he’d whispered back. I’ve
been in love with you for a really, really long time even if I pretend to hate
your guts as a defense mechanism for my feelings. The mirror could be cruel.
“So. Chanyeol was in mine,” Jimin says, using a MagiWipe to clean himself up.
After, the MagiWipe folds itself smaller and smaller until it disappears.
 “I’ll give you the vial tomorrow.”
Taehyung nods, dazed. “Okay.”
“What was yours about?”
“Um. Lee Dong Wook,” Taehyung lies, remembering the name off of one of the
muggle dramas that Hoseok had made them watch.
Jimin gives him a weird look. “Who the hell is that?”
 
Seokjin still hasn’t fixed it. Tuesday rolls around and Namjoon feels like he’s
going to die from combined guilt and desire. Seokjin has made him drink a total
of twenty potions, attempts at antidotes, anti-desiacs, he called them--and
after each one, Namjoon had braced himself, waited for the fading away of well,
whatever it was that made him look at Seokjin and swoon, but all he’d gotten
was the hiccups, nausea, the overwhelming urge to go to the bathroom or vomit
or both. Maybe the problem was once you were in love, you couldn’t fully want
to be out of it.
Today, he stands in the Great Hall as Professor McGonagall makes a speech
announcing the Yule Ball in three weeks, and the return of the winner of the
Triwizard Tournament. I’ll win.He remembers holding that night with Jungkook as
they lay on the grass looking up at the stars so close to his heart, remembers
cherishing it, pining, waiting for him to come home.
When Jungkook walks down the center aisle, everyone screaming, Hoseok’s voice
reaching fever-pitch as all of Ravenclaw House starts blasting confetti from
their wands, Namjoon feels his heart sink. He’s still handsome, yes--still that
same determined expression, that joyful crinkle to the eyes, that confident
swagger tempered by his goofy smile--and yet, something is missing. Namjoon
feels like his heart has changed its beat, been replaced, stolen, whichever
cliche fit.
“Now, a little something from our golden boy.”
Jungkook takes the podium, waving at everyone. “Hi, everyone. I’m very proud to
have won and I hope that you’re all proud of me. I worked really hard to get
fit and to finish every challenge properly but no one worked as hard as
Professor Hwang and my peer mentor, Namjoon--”
Namjoon looks up, caught off-guard. Jungkook meets his eye and smiles. Namjoon
smiles back but feels hurt and guilt heavy in his gut like a ball and chain.
“--so I dedicate this win to them. Thank you to everyone who supported me too
and let’s have fun at the Yule ball in three weeks. Also, rumors spread in my
absence by a certain Hufflepuff Captain are absolutely false. I WILL STILL BE
PLAYING THIS YEAR’S QUIDDITCH SEASON!”
Ravenclaw cheers. At the Hufflepuff table, Taehyung is surprisingly quiet, only
stirring his soup round and round with his spoon. Namjoon catches Seokjin’s eye
from across the room. Seokjin looks away too quickly to not have been looking.
His heart skips like a broken muggle record. He knows what he has to do.
Whatever this is, it isn’t fair.
 
Taehyung has been unable to sleep for days, has become obsessed with the Yule
Ball. He stands in the showers, going over different ways to say it without
coming off weird. He curses inwardly. Why does he have to be so damn
talented?Maybe he could write a letter? Or maybe he could send a howler--that
would show him! Who did he think he was? No, well, that would probably just
embarrass him. Taehyung toys with the idea of pretending to joke--but what if
he really thought Taehyung was joking? He closes his eyes against the rush of
water.
He’s jolted back to reality by clamoring in the other room, a ruckus being
stirred up. He turns the shower off, towels off, and pads back into the common
room, his hair swept up in his pink, polka-dot towel. Everyone is running the
other way, headed in the direction of the Great Hall.
“Hey,” he says, managing to catch Woozi on his way out. “What’s happening?”
“There’s drama by the Ravenclaw Tower. Namjoon and Jungkook! Hurry!”
Taehyung feels his heart skip at the mention of Jungkook’s name. Namjoon?
Jungkook? But Jungkook had won! He thinks back to Namjoon being extra snippy,
feels dread trickle into his heart as a suspicion forms in his head. Of course.
The two golden boys. He looks back longingly at the dorm a last time before
running after Woozi in his bathrobe and slippers, his pink, polka dot-patterned
towel still on his head.
 
“I don’t understand,” Jungkook says again, his eyes wide as he tries to
comprehend what Namjoon is trying to tell him. They’re standing by Ravenclaw
Tower. He’d been so excited to come home, had jumped on Namjoon as soon as he’d
seen him and now, well, Jungkook still doesn’t quite get it. He hears the words
but they don't make sense, not really. “You drank the potion because you
mistook it for coffee--and now you’re in love with Seokjin? Kim Seokjin? Head
Boy Seokjin?”
Namjoon hangs his head, tears trickling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry, Kookie.
Nothing happened between us but I don’t want to hurt you any further. I just--
I want to be honest. I--”
Jungkook feels anger, hurt, resentment building in his bones. He looks at the
guilt on Namjoon's face where there used to be gladness, a lighting up from
within. That’sthe thing that hurts him the most. He’d wanted so badly to see
Namjoon be happy to see him after all of the months away. He wants to yell, to
hex him, to hurl curses at him. Instead, he tries to speak and his voice comes
out cracked, not-quite-spiteful.
“Then get Seokjin to change it back.”
“We tried,” Namjoon says. “Seokjin tried to make antidotes, I’ve drank
everything from Mandrake spit to pureed newt’s tail this week. I’ve vomited and
shat myself and spent a whole day leaking from my nose. None of it works. I’m
so sorry, Kookie.”
“No,” Jungkook says, hearing his voice rising.Control your temper.Jungkook
tries to keep his voice down but it only gets louder and louder, the angrier he
becomes, the longer Namjoon stands in front of him. “But I won. I won the
goddamn Triwizard Tournament for you.”
Namjoon shakes his head. “You won that because you’re amazing. You were chosen
because you’re Jeon Jungkook--”
“--no!” Jungkook interjects, yelling now, aware but not caring that a crowd has
started to gather around them. “No, no, no, no! I only joined the damn thing
because I knew you would probably be my mentor! I turned into a fucking cat for
you!”
Namjoon looks up, eyes wet, glassy. “I’m so sorry, Jungkook. I really--before
all of this--”
“You should know better than to bring food and drinks into the potions lab! Who
even does that--” and then a thought occurs to Jungkook, one that makes him
even angrier, his hands curling into fists. “--oh my god. It was him, wasn’t
it? The other cat? The one you told me about? From all those years ago?”
Namjoon doesn’t say anything, only lets another I’m so sorry slip out of his
lips and Jungkook knows that he’s right.
“Were you thinking of him when you were with me?”
“No,” Namjoon says. “No, no, no. I was in love with you. We--it wasn’t like
that. It wasn’t like what we had. It was an accident. I wanted youuntil before
I drank the damn potion.”
“And what did we have?” Jungkook asks, his tone turning icy at Namjoon’s use of
past-tense.
“The real thing,” Namjoon says, his voice barely a whisper. “We had the real
thing.”
A crowd is gathered around them now. Jungkook sees robes of all colors--red,
green, yellow, blue, all of them gathering around to see the drama, to watch
the fight go down. He’s ready to run into the Tower when he sees Kim Taehyung
dressed in an outfit so ridiculous his anger dissipates momentarily. Taehyung
marches determinedly toward Jungkook. For a moment Jungkook thinks he’s going
to hit him but what Taehyung does next catches him so off-guard he isn’t sure
what to do or say or how to react.
“Come on,” Taehyung says, taking Jungkook gently by the hand and leading him
away from the crowd. “Let’s go calm you down, Kookie.”
 
Taehyung takes him to a little alcove by the lake, a small pond beside a bed of
flowers kept by the Herbology Society. The pale, late-autumn sunlight is gentle
here, the flowers swaying to the breeze. Taehyung gets Jungkook a bottle of
water to drink, rubs his back while he cries. When Jungkook calms down, they
sit by the water, Taehyung calmly explaining each of the flowers they grew and
how they survived, what cures each species could produce, why they were grown
in the autumn and not in the spring. When he’s done, Jungkook finds his chest a
little lighter, finds he can breathe easier. He studies Taehyung, number one
thorn in his side, as he sits playing with the grass.
“Why are you wearing a bathrobe?” Jungkook teases, wiping his nose on the
sleeve of his robe.
“‘Cause I like to take a bath,” Taehyung shoots back. “You never hear of it
before now? It’s when you pour water--”
“--thank you, TaeTae,” Jungkook says quietly. “I was really hurt but you know,
I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that. I could’ve said something that I
really regretted.”
Taehyung feels warmth spread across his chest. He called me TaeTae.Not Taehyung
or Hufflejerk or Evilpuff or Tomvolin’ Annoying but TaeTae: not once but twice
the endearment. “It’s okay. Namjoon is a reasonable guy. The fact that he told
you the way he did was brave of him. I’m sure even if you hexed him, he would
forgive you.”
Jungkook nods, smiling a sad smile. “I know it’s not his fault. He’s a klutz.
Of course he would accidentally drink a love potion, right? Do you think
Seokjin likes him back?”
“I don’t really know Seokjin that well,” Taehyung replies. “But I know that if
he did, Namjoon would have been honest about that too.”
“Well, I hope he does,” Jungkook says.
“What?” Taehyung asks. “But that would mean--”
“--because if he doesn’t, that means I got my heart broken for nothing. I hope
they’re happy. I hope Namjoon is happy.”
“You’re a kinder person than I am. I’d hate them if it were me.”
Jungkook chuckles at that. “It kind of makes sense, doesn’t it? In a skewed
way? Like, of course it would have to be Seokjin--themost handsome guy in all
of freakin’ Hogwarts--to get a guy like Namjoon. I mean. What a guy. Anyone
else and there’d be hope for me but once you Seokjin, you don’t Seokj-out, I
don’t think.”
“Please don’t ever make that joke again. We’ll pretend like it never happened.”
Taehyung sighs, ruffles Jungkook’s hair despite his better judgement. It feels
soft against his fingers. Taehyung watches Jungkook stare out at the water,
gauging the distance before throwing a pebble across the lake. It skips thrice
before sinking. Like my heart. Goddamn.Taehyung sighs, turning to look at the
water. “I don’t think Seokjin is the most handsome guy in all of Hogwarts.”
Jungkook looks at him quizzically, tugging at his pink, polka dot-patterned
towel that unravels, shaking Taehyung’s brown hair loose. Jungkook likes the
smell of his shampoo.
"Are you blind?"
 
Seokjin is terrified of his own feelings. The weeks have passed in a strange
kind of lull. He’d heard about the altercation by Ravenclaw Tower, knows that
everyone knows. For once, he is grateful for his time turner schedule, grateful
to always have one-too-many things on his mind. He’d gotten the role in the
Pensieve drama, he’d gotten his samples to the Magical BAE on time.
He spends the next weeks going back in time just when he knows he and Namjoon
are going to cross paths--he can feel Namjoon avoiding him too, knows that with
his level of stubbornness, if he’d wanted to see Seokjin, he would’ve done it
by now. He thinks this might be good, too, wonders if it doesn’t serve him
right for making the damn thing in the first place.
He goes to bed late because he goes to dinner late, avoiding the crowd,
delegating most of the duties to the prefects on the grounds of having to work
on his academics and extra-curriculars. They seem to buy it--or pretend to.
Tonight, he’s sitting in the lab, out of school work and lines to work on, to
memorize. He starts to make himself coffee, tries to brew it the muggle way--
one of his co-stars in the drama is muggle born, has shown him a couple of
tricks--by boiling water and grinds, straining it out into a cup before
frothing milk and mixing them together.
The coffee is bubbling, sputtering in the cauldron, so Seokjin doesn’t hear it
when the gate of the dungeon swings open slowly.
“Seokjin.”
He turns around and comes face-to-face with Jeon Jungkook.
“Oh. Hi."
“Hey,” Jungkook says. “Can I sit? Could we talk for a while?”
Seokjin nods. “Sure. Do you want coffee?”
Jungkook shrugs. “Okay. Oh--are you brewing it the muggle way? You’re supposed
to have a paper filter thing. Hoseok showed us how.”
Seokjin sighs, giving up and just whipping them up a batch from his CofFroth
ZAP!3x on the counter. He puts the two frothy mugs down on the counter. “So.
What would you like to talk to me about?”
Jungkook smiles a sad but determined smile. “The matter of Kim Namjoon.”
“Ah,” Seokjin says. “Of course.”
“Do you like him?”
“What?”
“Do you like him? Do you think you could be with him--what with the effects of
the potion and everything?”
Seokjin hesitates, wondering if Jungkook is going to try and hex him.
“Jungkook, I’m really sorry about what happened, I heard about the Ravenc--”
“--it’s okay,” Jungkook says, taking a sip from the cup. “Really, I’m asking
because I think that if you think you two could be happy, then you should go
for it. Yule Ball is coming up and you two might regret it if you don’t go
together. I wasn’t kidding when I said that I was--still kind of am, if I'm
being honest--in love with Namjoon. I mean, he’s a one of a kind kind of guy
and the only thing that hurts me more than him not feeling the same way anymore
is the thought of him being alone, lonely, with so much love to give and not
being able to give it.”
“I’m not very good at relationships,” Seokjin says, playing with his stirrer
that’s mixing his coffee and milk together on its own. “I’m scared. I--the
potion--I think it really does mimic love--I didn’t used to feel this way but
when he looks at me--”
“--I read your paper in the MagiCloud Journal,” Jungkook says. “It doesn’t
mimic love, it synthesizes it, literally makes love happen and you know it.
You’re a genius but you’re being kind of stupid about this whole thing.”
“I didn’t know it was roast-Seokjin’s-intellect time,” Seokjin says, raising an
eyebrow.
“It’s not,” Jungkook says, finishing the last of his coffee. “It’s give-
Seokjin-fair-warning-before-you-send-Namjoon-down-here-to-talk-to-him time.
He’s on his way. So. Thank you for the coffee. I’ll see you around.”
With that, Jungkook walks out of Seokjin’s lab, down the dungeon corridor and
up the stairs. Seokjin’s heart is in his throat as he hears another set of
footsteps approaching, the rhythm familiar. Namjoon.
 
Namjoon isn’t prepared, doesn’t know what to do or what to say but Jungkook had
driven a hard bargain--forgiveness at a price, forgiveness if you dare to be
happy, to forgive yourself. He walks slowly down the corridor, toward the light
at the end of the dungeon. When he gets there, Seokjin is waiting for him,
pretending to stare at a solution in the Flamel Distiller which sits empty, the
gauge turned to zero.
“Hey,” Namjoon says. When Seokjin turns around, his heart is flooded with love.
He feels himself swoon, feels that desire kicking up a storm in his gut. He’s
the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“Hey,” Seokjin says, meeting Namjoon’s gaze. “You really know how to pick them.
I don’t think I’ve ever met a guy as nice as Jeon Jungkook.”
Namjoon smiles a small smile, hopeful. “Me neither. How’ve you been?”
Seokjin shrugs. “You know. Busy. How about you? Still in love with me?”
Namjoon lets out a laugh at that, stepping closer. “Irrevocably so, I’m
afraid.”
“I see,” Seokjin says as Namjoon comes further into his space. He watches the
way that the light catches Namjoon’s hair, highlighting the golden hue of his
skin set off by the yellow in his robes. “I--”
“--you don’t have to, you know,” Namjoon says softly. “I know you feel some
kind of weird guilt but you don’t have to pretend to like me back just because-
-”
“I want to try,” Seokjin says. “I want to see if it’s changed me too. I want to
see if I’ve actually gone and synthesized love. If we could--I mean if it could
become--”
“How do you fancy we do that?” Namjoon asks, his gaze taking in Seokjin’s soft
smile, the way he’s bracing himself against the counter.
“You could kiss me. And we could go from there,” Seokjin says, putting a hand
to Namjoon's tie. “I mean, I’ve kissed you before--so I would know--”
Seokjin tugs at the tie and Namjoon leans in, the last thing he sees are
Seokjin’s eyes fluttering shut as they kiss, their lips meeting softly. Seokjin
feels his breath catch as Namjoon turns his head just right, the two of them
fitting together like two pieces on a puzzle. It wasn't like this before.He
feels electricity shoot through him as Namjoon puts a hand on his waist, the
other one coming up to cup his cheek as the kiss deepens, Namjoon tilting his
head ever-so-slightly, bringing his tongue into Seokjin’s mouth carefully--just
to taste, to see how this feels. Seokjin’s heart is thundering in his chest as
he brings his arms around Namjoon’s waist, feeling comfort and desire, ease and
arousal all in one as he pulls Namjoon closer. Synthesizing love, huh.
“Namjoon,” He says when they come up for air.
“Mmmm?” Namjoon asks, his entire body trembling in Seokjin’s arms.
“Is this why they call it making love? Because you synthesize it as you go
along?” A laugh builds in his chest as he kisses Namjoon’s cheek.
“Why? Why did I have to fall for someone whose jokes are so terrible they make
taking the NEWTs seem fun.”
Seokjin doesn’t answer except to laugh against Namjoon's skin--that, Namjoon
thinks, is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, heard, felt. Synthesized
or not, they look at each other and both know this is real.
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