Dongwoon was here. The fact that so many of his childhood friends were suddenly arriving, one after the other like an incessant stream of human beings, was quite exciting. Doojoon had gotten Dongwoon to join the soccer league with him. He had tried numerous times with Junhyung and had failed, but not with Dongwoon, and now the other was here at Hogwarts with him and Junhyung. Both boys were on their house’s Quidditch team but flying was something that Doojoon had never learned to do. As a kid he wanted to but after he had accidentally crashed a toy broom in through the living room’s giant glass window, his mother had forbade him to do anything that had him hovering in the air for an unnatural period of time, including spells, potions, or those gumballs that removed the gravity field from around you for a short period of time. Since then, he had just never bothered to learn, but now he had a willing teacher and was heading to the Quidditch pitch, borrowing Junhyung’s broom, to meet with Dongwoon and try to learn something about flying other than how to hover, which he probably wouldn’t be able to do well anymore either.
He had the broom resting against his shoulder, the blue track jacket that his girlfriend had given him for Christmas was zipped up to his chin. It was still chilly out but it wasn’t as cold as it had been, the hints of Spring arriving thick in the air. The air was still crisp and clear, the sounds of the Whomping Willow creaking out by the lake reaching Doojoon as he walked by, the Quidditch pitch where he would meet Dongwoon coming into sight. He was nervous but excited at the same time. There was just something about doing things his mother had previously prohibited him from doing that got his adrenaline pumping.
Just days before the start of the school year, Dongwoon had received a letter from a certain Yoon Doojoon about transferring to Hogwarts. The two had known each other since they were children through one of those pureblood friend of a friend of a cousin of an aunt proxies. They’d kept in touch over the years, though irregularly, and bumped into each other at the occasional odds and ends pureblood gathering. The Ravenclaw was exactly the kind of company Dongwoon appreciated; sane, intelligent, down-to-earth. The only exception to the case was soccer, that silly Muggle sport Doojoon was getting him to try. Why anyone would prefer kicking a lifeless ball on the ground to Quidditch was beyond him, but to each his own.
The fact that Doojoon had never flown before was, frankly, rather sad to him, and Dongwoon hadn’t hesitated at the chance to teach his friend. But flying had so much to do with instinct, and he had no preconceptions about how well Doojoon would take to it. For some it was second nature, and for some it was practically a near-death experience. It really only took a single first year flying class to separate the best flyers from the students who’d never touch a broom again.
Stepping out into the crisp March air, Dongwoon swung a leg over the side of his Firebolt, gaining altitude as he leisurely made his way to the Quidditch pitch. A familiar figure in blue stood waiting, and he gave him a small wave from above before descending to the grass.
“Hey,” he said, clapping Doojoon on the back with his free hand. Dongwoon’s eyes travelled to the familiar broom currently in his possession, and he shot him a slanted grin. “So what’d you have to pay Junhyung for that?”
Summer was always a peaceful season of relaxation. She was permitted time to spend with his parents and old friends back home—and she was free of tedious assignments she couldn’t even begin to wrap her head around. Having to touch miscellaneous severed body parts of innocent animals to toss haphazardly into potions was bad enough, but writing essays with a quill that had to be a certain number of inches long? It was almost her fourth year and she still felt as though she was adjusting to culture shock.
BUT, she missed all of her friends quite dearly, and only wished that they could see and enjoy the wonders (hah, they’d laugh at that) of the muggle world.
And of course, she sort of kind of missed her boyfriend, too.
Her mini contemplation of the past year at Hogwarts was cut short by an abrupt set of knocks against the front door. She figured it was a package from the mailman—it was about time for the mail to be delivered anyways—so with that in mind, she jumped up off of her bed and skipped down the stairs, fumbling on the last two before managing to catch herself right in front of the door.
“Umma! I think the mailman’s here. You might have to sign someth—”
She stared in complete and utter shock at the person who really knocked at the door.
If it were at all possible, her jaw probably would have dropped.
“… Dongwoon? I mean—Dongwoon!” she exclaimed cheerfully, tugging him into one spontaneous hug before freeing him from her grasp. Ailee took one step back before smiling. “What are you doing her—oh! Umma! It wasn’t the mailman after all!”
Half the summer had passed by in a golden haze, with slow hours and rainy English weather. Pedantic academia had been traded in for lethargy and leisure, and Dongwoon wiled his hours away reading and walking through London in a blissful state of inertia. But there was a fundamental difference between this summer and the rest, resting entirely on one red-haired Gryffindor — the thought of whom made him feel a number of hitherto unknown emotions.
He’d been mailing Ailee regularly, though the exchange spent several days in limbo on the way there and back. Under her tutelage he’d learned how to operate a Muggle device called e-mail, which he found to be remarkably clever and convenient, but the strange silver box laptop he’d bought had stopped working after a few days. It’s taken a bit of reading to discover that the thing needed what Muggle’s called an ‘electrical outlet’, but his house, like most in the wizarding world, didn’t run on electricity.
Dongwoon had read about the American suburbs, but seeing them in person was an entirely different experience. Every single row of houses looked exactly the same, down to the well-manicured lawn and disinterested residents. He was already almost two hours behind schedule, after taking the wrong bus and wandering aimlessly through the streets around Ailee’s home.
He’d knocked on one door only to be greeted by an obese man wearing a mortifying bath robe and holding a bag of chips. The American had guffawed loudly at his accent and then pointed him across the street. Now he stood in front of a house that he was certain was the right one, though he glanced at the sheet of neatly folded paper containing her address just to confirm.
This was it.
A sudden pang of nervous energy hit him. What if this wasn’t okay? What if he’d gone too far with this surprise visit? What if her parents answered the door? Too late, because the next thing he knew his girlfriend’s arms were thrown around him.
Laughing, he wrapped her in a tight hug, almost tilted off balance by the bag hanging over his shoulder. He’d missed her, a lot actually.
“Surprise,” Dongwoon murmured into her ear, leaving his hands loosely on her waist. He smirked, though the action was warm and lopsided. “Missed me?”
He noticed the woman standing inside the hallway a moment too late, and hastily removed his person to a respectable distance, bowing low to the ground.
