Absquatulate

Yoongi smells the room before he sees it.

One of the reasons why he always hates hospitals is because it smells dead. The strong scent of chemicals and cleaning alcohol, pain and suffering, drives him mad. He hates hospitals so much that he would just buy some healing potions from local pharmacies whenever he feels ill, and is lucky to never have to stay for more than a few hours if he did have to visit the hospital.

But instead of the smell of chemicals, Yoongi smells something nice. It’s definitely not flowers, since it doesn’t have the sweet taste to it, but it’s natural and fresh. And most of all, familiar. Yoongi sniffs and opens his mouth slightly, trying to inhale more of the nice scent, but the muscles on his face feel so stiff he can’t move them much.

His senses return slowly. He can hear the heart monitor beeping regularly as background music. He can feel something, probably an IV, taped to wrist of his good hand. His vision is still black, though, but the light that shines through his eyelids tells Yoongi that he’s going to wake soon.

A hand slides into his, a little hesitantly, and Yoongi shudders at the warm touch. It’s a much smaller hand compared to his own, and the corners of his mouth rise a little at the realization of whom it must belong to.

“Hyung?” A soft, slightly high-pitched voice whispers, and Yoongi begins to take notice of another person’s presence.

Yoongi peels his eyelids open. The lighting of the room is dim, but it still takes Yoongi a little time to adjust to the light.

He sits up with a grunt, a little surprised that he still has the energy to do so. He blinks, and frowns at his injured left shoulder, which is now in a sling. He reaches out with his good hand to touch, but another hand pulls him back.

Yoongi turns, and for the first time in a year, Jimin Park is right in front of him. His complexion, including his hair and eye color, seems to fade from staying in the hospital for too long, from not exposing to enough sunlight outside. He looks almost sickly and Yoongi’s heart aches numbly at this. He’s wearing the doctor robe that makes him look a lot more mature than his childlike face does.

“Hey, hyung,” Jimin says softly, and it’s definitely not Yoongi’s imagination that Jimin’s voice is deeper now.

That explains the smell. Jimin’s always smelt nice, like nature.

“You’ve become paler,” Yoongi says, ignoring how his voice cracks from lack of use, and reaches out to use the pad of his thumb to gently caress Jimin’s face, his hand trembling as he does so. He doesn’t know why, but suddenly he’s scared of breaking Jimin’s delicate skin. He keeps his touch feather-light. “Have you been working too hard? You’ve been eating well, right? I missed you.”

Jimin’s cheek twitches, and Yoongi almost interprets it as a flinch. Was Jimin flinching from him just now?

“Stop worrying about me.” Jimin keeps his voice barely more than a whisper, which Yoongi is thankful of. A single tear slide down Jimin’s pale cheek as the younger man hands Yoongi a cup of water with a straw to sip from. “Why are you worrying about me? You shouldn’t worry about me. You should worry about you.”

Yoongi smiles a little at Jimin’s adorable language, only to realize that he can’t move the right side of his face as easily. His tiny smile becomes lopsided.

Despite the unignorably adorable language, Yoongi can’t help but notice how Jimin didn’t say “I missed you” back. Normally Jimin’s the first to welcome physical contact and sweet greetings and even pet names (he used to call Yoongi “Meow-meow” because Yoongi looked like a fucking cat). Yoongi lets it pass, though.

“Oh, about that,” Jimin says and presses a button on the bedside table. Yoongi’s bed slowly rises and folds itself until it’s more of an armchair than a bed. Jimin bites on his lower lip almost nervously and takes something out from the drawer of the table.

A hand mirror.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do better,” Jimin says, frustrated with himself. “I can erase most scars like they never existed in the first place, but not this one. I’m so sorry.”

Yoongi frowns at the confession and looks into the mirror.

His perfectly smooth skin is ghostly white and pale even by Veela standards with no single tint of red. There are bags under his eyes and cracks on his pale lips. His hair is incredibly messy and looks more like gray than silver. His cheeks are sunken like he’s been starving for days, which makes him scoff a little. His eyes look so hollow and dead, and his face expressionless, making him look like he’s a lifeless statue.

But then there’s a scar. A scar than runs all the way from half an inch above his right eyebrow to his right cheek, miraculously sparing his eye and eyelid. It’s an angry red, as if it’s still bleeding. He usually doesn’t care that much about his appearance, but this. This is different.

Yoongi just sips his water in silence, half shocked and half scared. Shocked that he managed to survive the spell, and scared that his face is permanently ruined. Scared that the mysterious Death Eater has forever scarred him and reminded him of his worst nightmares. His heart feels like it’s being jabbed, but his expression remains neutral despite the raging storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm his consciousness.

“The Sectumsempra curse,” Jimin says sadly and sniffs again. “Posterior labral tear on your shoulder. And that permanent scar.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Yoongi swings his legs down the bed, sets the water down, and properly faces Jimin. He offers Jimin another lopsided smile. At least his voice isn’t cracking anymore. He doesn’t know what posterior labral tear is but it sounds pretty serious. “Thank you for saving me. I don’t care about some stupid scar, Jiminie. I was going to die.”

Jimin laughs wetly and rubs his eyes a little. His hair turns into a soft pink and his eyes form crescent shapes as he smiles. But he’s not looking at Yoongi, who frowns a tiny bit at that. “You’re worth saving as much as every other human being. It’s only my job.”

“Thanks anyway,” Yoongi says lowly. He might sound selfish saying this, but Yoongi wishes Jimin would treat him more of a friend who babied him since Jimin was thirteen and practically raised him and less of just another patient. Not just his “job.” But that’s probably how doctors work, so Yoongi won’t complain. “It’s really been some time, Jiminie. I miss you.”

“Everything feels like it’s just yesterday. But has time really sped up, or does time pass differently in everyone’s mind?” Jimin says seriously, eyes distant as he switches on his philosophical mode that Yoongi’s all too familiar of.

Philosophy is a compulsory class in Beauxbatons, and apparently Jimin really paid attention in that class because sometimes he would surprise everyone with deep comments on life and things. Maybe that was how Jimin got sorted into Ravenclaw: for his never-ending curiosity for everything around him. The only drawback of Jimin being philosophical is that he has very strong opinions on every fucking thing ( “What do you mean Toy Story doesn’t suck?” ).

“It certainly passes a lot quicker in my mind.” Jimin continues. “Does that make my life shorter, since the length of life is determined by the amount of time you are alive?”

“Time is too abstract to be real,” Yoongi states. Lucky for Jimin, Yoongi can be pretty passionate when in a discussion or argument. Their conversations are never dull. “Besides, no one can explain the origin or the end of time. It’s simply not real.”

“I would want to talk more, but you need to rest.” Jimin says, squeezing Yoongi’s hand gently before letting go again.

Yoongi hums and closes his eyes. As a typical workaholic, Yoongi rarely gets time to completely rest his mind and relax his muscles, so it’d be stupid if he doesn’t take the chance to rest up. He’s already bound to stay in bed for at least a few days, so why not just sleep through them?

But I have to call Potter, Yoongi suddenly remembers. From what he knows, he’s the only survivor from Lestrange’s escape, so unless he reports it, literally no one would know what happened. And according to the Aurors’ standard operating procedure, Aurors should be bombarding him with questions already.

That leads to another problem. “Jimin-ah, has anyone come visiting me? Some Aurors, maybe? Anyone from the Ministry?” Yoongi asks, trying not to worry too much.

Jimin hesitates for a moment before shaking his head. “Not that I know of, no.”

Yoongi feels like someone just punched him in his chest, knocking air out of his lungs. Something’s definitely wrong. Won’t the Ministry suspect something when none of the Aurors come back? God, someone died. The Ministry has to have noticed, but something is stopping them from making a move. Or is the Ministry already doing something and trying to give Yoongi a hint somehow because they’re being watched? Or-

“If you don’t mind . . .” Jimin fidgets with his fingers, twirling them absentmindedly and keeping his eyes on them. His hair turns completely white, and Yoongi doesn’t recall a single moment when he ever sees Jimin with white hair. What does that mean, anyway? “Can I ask how you got yourself into this? I know Aurors fight people a lot, but . . . this is a bit too intense. I think.”

Ouch, Jimin.

Since when does Jimin become all formal and distant? Was it because Yoongi was always busy and unable to attend their reunions? Was it because of the scar? Or the blood? Was he too mean? Yoongi really does try hard to think back to everything he’s done to Jimin and he can’t think of a reason for Jimin to be so cold all of a sudden.

It hurts more than his shoulder. It hurts like a bitch.

Yoongi turns away, glaring at the IV bag that’s slowly dripping some kind of transparent healing potion and trying not to spill any tear. “Nothing.” Yoongi says simply, scared that if he speaks too much, he won’t be able to control the tears. “I have to go. I’ll see you sometime.”

And he’s not lying. No one knows about the Death Eater’s escape yet, and most likely don’t know about the Death Eater’s existence at all. Just imagine the amount of panic the entire world will fall into if they learn that Voldemort’s supporters are still out there somewhere. He needs to at least contact Potter or someone. He has to go.

Yoongi rips off his shoulder sling and IV, wincing when blood slowly oozes out. He stands up on wobbly feet and pauses for a moment to gain balance before walking towards the door. Jimin grabs his wrist, and when Yoongi turns, Jimin immediately retracts his hands as if he’s touching fire.

Huh. How ironic. He did just touch Yoongi.

“You can’t leave yet,” Jimin says, looking at Yoongi with wide eyes. “You haven’t recovered, you still have muscle rehab, you need a doctor’s note, you. . .”

“Where’s my wand?” Yoongi says lowly, patting around his hospital gown for it. It doesn’t even have pockets. He lets out a slightly frustrated groan. He’s going to Apparate out of this shithole the moment he gets his wand. And he’ll call Potter, make him find another Auror to track Lestrange down, and go get his twenty-four-hour sleep. Staying here in St Mungo’s is a waste of time. “And my phone. Where are they?”

“S'il te plaît, ” Jimin says, keeping his distance but still trying to stop Yoongi nonetheless. Yoongi’s been with Jimin for long enough to know that means “please” in French. “You have to listen to me. You’re in no shape to go back into whatever you got into and . . .”

“Jesus, Jimin,” Yoongi whips around to face Jimin, whose eyes widen. “One year away from each other isn’t supposed to change us that much. What happened between us?” Yoongi shouts, his entire frame trembling from boiling sadness.

Huh, that’s an interesting combination. Boiling sadness. Every emotion Yoongi feels is as overwhelming as fire burning up a room, the smoke choking his windpipe and heat eating away his skin.

Yoongi may have accidentally unleashes his emotions, because the next second Jimin’s eyes are glassy and whelmed with unshed tears. His bottom lip is quivering. He opens his mouth to say something, probably something along the line of “I’m sorry” or “Please,” but Yoongi holds up a hand to stop him.

“Don’t.” He says lowly. “Don’t make it worse than it already is.”

Yoongi ignores how his voice cracks in the end, and how his nose is suddenly a little clogged. He opens the door and slams it shut, leaving the room and wiping his face furiously. The sweet smell of nature that radiates from Jimin is now completely gone and replaced by the dead smell of alcohol and hospitals. Yoongi takes a deep breath and power-walks down the corridor, not caring when he bumps into a nurse or when he realizes that he doesn’t even know where to go.

He takes random turns and his footsteps quicken. He’s not in a hurry or anything, but the emotion overload is taking over his heartrate and now he feels like someone’s squeezing his windpipe. The slight bleeding on his forearm where the IV was has stopped a minute ago. He ignores the weird glances casted his way and takes the elevator down to ground floor.

“I want my wand and phone and all personal belongings,” Yoongi says when he arrives at the hospital’s main counter. The nurse looks up through heavy glasses and frowns when her eyes catch how he’s still wearing a patient robe.

“Sir, I’m afraid you can’t . . .”

“My wand and personal belongings. Now. Yoongi Min.” Yoongi grits his teeth.

Controlling people’s emotions is a bit like drawing, actually: Yoongi can see how a person’s emotions are mapped, like the emotions they are the weakest to or the most sensitive to. He sees emotions in colors, just like how the colors on Jimin’s hair and eyes work. Then all he has to do is either amplify the person’s emotions or insert a specific one to take over their minds. And aren’t all humans like this? Aren’t they all in the mercy of what’s merely electrical impulses in their heads?

Yoongi is no exception, a prisoner of his own emotions.

The woman stares back at Yoongi dreamily. “Yes,” she sounds hypnotized. “I will deliver them shortly.”

With a few waves of her wand, she summons a box from behind the door behind the counter, and it lands in front of Yoongi. He opens it to see his phone, his wand, and his watch.

“Yoongi hyung!” Yoongi’s head whips towards the direction of Jimin’s voice, and Yoongi’s first instinct is to get out of there. He grabs the box, fishes out the wand, and with a quick flick, his hospital robe changes into his black family robe. His bare feet are now in long boots.

He ditches the box and runs.

Everything feels wrong.

Running with his arm and shoulder completely paralyzed feels wrong. The tight muscles around his right eye, where he now knows a scar is located, feel wrong. The fact that the Aurors aren’t here yet to ask him endless questions about the Death Eater feels wrong. Running away from Jimin, the sweetest human alive, feels wrong. Shouting at Jimin feels worse.

Yoongi elbows past frightened nurses and patients as he flees like a fucking coward, too scared to even talk things out with his friend. He’s a predator, for fuck’s sake. A predator who hunts those who hides from the light of the law, who seeks the truth behind gossip and lies. Not some prey terrified of confronting a friend.

So what the hell is he doing?

He takes a turn into another corridor and runs towards a man talking to a nurse. The man looks strangely familiar, but that can totally be Yoongi’s hallucination since he just woke up from a who-knows-how-long coma.

Yoongi’s heartbeat is too loud and too quick for him to understand anything the man’s saying, but there’s something about the man, some magical aura that shouldn’t even make sense, that makes Yoongi skit to a halt, his boots making a squeaking sound as he stops dead in his track.

Maybe he does that too loudly, because the man turns towards him. Yoongi has never seen the man in his life, but there’s that unexplainable look to the man that immediately reminds Yoongi of Voldemort, of Death Eaters, of pure evil.

Yoongi turns the opposite direction and runs.

His head feels like it’s fried. His thoughts are all jumbled and swirling around like a mini hurricane and making his brain hurt. Yoongi ignores how his shoulder screams in pain as he bumps into people and walls. His breath comes out shallow and rapid, like he’s having a heart attack.

Why is the Death Eater sending people after him? This is a stupid question. The Death Eater said from their first encounter that he knew Yoongi. If this reason isn’t enough, what about how Yoongi almost killed him once? The Death Eater would be stupid if he doesn’t want to kill the man who got that close to ending his life.

Yoongi trips when he bumps into Jimin, who’s been trying to catch up to him. He lands ungracefully on his face and sends Jimin falling onto his butt. The entire hall is now empty except for them, so the nurses and doctors have already fled. Yoongi scrambles to his feet and tries to run again, but realizes that there’s no use.

The man is already in front of him, his slightly pale complexion and dark eyes looking nothing like the typical villain look. He looks pretty normal and kind, and if Yoongi hadn’t seen the man’s wand that looks like it’s made of human bones, Yoongi would’ve thought he wasn’t one to practice the Dark Arts. His slightly long hair curls gently down his face cleanly, and there’s a deadliness to how deceiving his looks are.

“Yoongi Min,” The man says with a relatively deep voice, and tilts his head almost playfully. He twirls his wand gracefully and doesn’t stop walking towards Yoongi, who holds his ground. “The famous, best Auror of England. Such an honor.”

“Fuck off and I might spare your life,” Yoongi grits his teeth, and is infinitely thankful to whatever deity is up there because his voice turns out a lot calmer and more confident than he really is. He exhales slowly and tries to convince himself that he’s got this.

Too soon. Everything’s happening too soon. Yoongi should be getting his nap right now. not fighting off another Death Eater. He’s not ready.

“I mean it when I said I was honored,” The man continues, not spooked by Yoongi at all. “Not all people can get that close to beating my master. I’m sure my name will ring a bell . . . Rabastan Lestrange?”

There are a few points to note from the few words the man has spoken. The most alarming one is of course how he refers the Death Eater Yoongi fought with earlier his master, which means what Yoongi is dealing with is not just any Death Eater but a Death Eater boss, the new Dark Lord. Who knows how big this boss's empire is already? How corrupted England already is? How many places or countries are already under his control? This kind of explains how the Ministry hasn’t sent out rescue teams because if the Ministry is already infiltrated with Death Eater spies, of course they’d leave Yoongi to die.

The second point is that if Yoongi has almost defeated a Dark Lord, then it’s both good and bad news. Good news is Yoongi’s not that hopeless if the inevitable duel between them comes and that he actually has a chance to winning. Bad news is that the guy would definitely try very hard to make sure Yoongi is dead and stays dead.

Third point . . . Lestrange. The name he learnt much later after their daring adventure ten years ago back in time belonged to the woman who sent excruciating pain into his body and scarred his mind forever. Her name was Bellatrix Lestrange, and this one is another Lestrange, not blood-related but sharing the same name is enough for Yoongi. Revenge sounds extremely sweet at the moment.

“You’re not getting away with this, dipshit!” Yoongi snarls, baring his teeth like an angry cat.

He remembers taking some classes when he was still training to become and Auror: under certain circumstances where there were random innocent civilians around, he had to be defensive instead of offensive. He couldn’t blow up things or shower his opponents with magical sparks that burnt or summon lightning storms. He’s taught that he can’t do anything reckless or destructive, not when there are innocent people . . . and Jimin . . . around.

But fuck rules. His enemies aren’t playing by rules, so why should he? Hell, even the Ministry is ignoring rules. Yoongi can blow up the entire hospital if he wants, and he will after he makes sure he won’t hurt anyone.

Lestrange flicks his wand almost gracefully, and magical ice starts spreading like some kind of deadly virus. It doesn’t take long for the ice to completely the counters and magical snow to start falling from the ceiling. Wind starts blowing and a blizzard is slowing forming.

“Was he the guy who hurt you?” Jimin says from behind Yoongi. Yoongi turns to see that Jimin’s hair is now midnight black, his eyes a glowing red and canines sharp like a vampire’s. His small fists are clenched and his entire body visibly shaking from anger. It’s hard to see anything an arm away from Yoongi since the wind has picked up speed and snow is blinding his vision, but those red glowing eyes are shining so bright Yoongi’s wondering how the Death Eater hasn’t seen them yet. “I will snap his neck and feed him to stray cats.”

“He’s one of my guy’s minions.” Yoongi says, somehow relaxing a bit at how Jimin turns on his protective mode. Jimin’s extremely protective over people he loves, so Yoongi’s at least glad that Jimin still cares. Their personal issues will have to wait. “And his sister was the crazy woman who tortured me years ago.”

Jimin’s red eyes turn back to a warm brown, and he smiles a little at Yoongi. “I’ll distract him while you arrest him, then,” Jimin says before turning and disappearing into the blizzard.

Or I could kill him, but you wouldn’t forgive me if I do.

Yoongi shields his face with his arm and can literally feel specks of snow freezing on his eyelashes. “Face me, Lestrange.” He growls, and hears that miraculously magnified voice again. “Don’t be a fucking coward.”

Lestrange is nowhere to be seen. Yoongi turns around, his wand raised, and his eyes dart around to catch any movement. The wind is howling in his ears, and the snowing becomes too heavy. He’s lucky that he’s light and can move on heavy snow easier than most.

“What a fucking pussy,” Yoongi sneers, and carefully, slowly, releases invisible waves of recklessness that will definitely reach the man, one way or another. Soon enough, the man will lose control and attack while showing himself. Humans are that predictable and easy to manipulate. “So weak. You should’ve died with your master.”

As expected, Lestrange immediately jumps out of his hiding spot and charges, with a brilliant green light exploding from the tip of his wand, to which Yoongi dodges easily.

Someone casts the knockback spell, and Lestrange is sent flying sideways, landing ungracefully. he howls, and by the time he scrambles back to his feet, Yoongi’s already hiding behind the heavy snow again, watching the Death Eater from afar.

“People used to question my power,” A creepily familiar voice sounds through the heavy snow, and Yoongi freezes, his face slightly turned so that his ear is directed to where the voice comes from. “But I have come to learn that it is not I who lacks power. It is those who claim to be my faithful servants.”

“Voldemort?” Lestrange whispers, fear and panic written all over him. Yoongi takes the chance to install more fear into the Death Eater, and he can see the effects immediately: his eyes are blown impossibly wide, and his face has lost all color.

“You’re as weak as Harry Potter. I should’ve killed you with him.” Voldemort’s voice moves a little, and Yoongi remains frozen in his tracks.

There is no Voldemort. It’s Jimin, taking the shape and gaining the voice of Voldemort to distract Rabastan. It’s what Jimin does: he transforms into a person’s darkest demon. He manipulates a person’s fear and trust and lies to their eyes. He’s making the female Death Eater more vulnerable than ever.

So why is it affecting Yoongi?

“You’re dead,” The Death Eater says in a slightly less panicked voice. He clears his throat when his voice breaks at the end. “Voldemort is dead. You’re not real.”

“So you’re not just weak,” Voldemort sneers and emerges from the snow. Everything about him looks terrifyingly realistic, from his death-white skin and reptile-like eyes to his black simple robe and the cocky smirk. It’s identical to what Yoongi remember Voldemort to look like. “You’re ignorant, too.”

Yoongi grabs his injured shoulder and tries to focus on the roaring wind rather than Voldemort’s voice, on the snow rather than Voldemort himself. The Voldemort looks and sounds too real, so real that Yoongi can’t help but wonder if Voldemort had been haunting Jimin’s dreams as well. He lets out a sharp gasp when his finger grazes over his injured shoulder. He immediately moves his good hand to stifle the gasp, but it’s too late. The man's head whips towards his direction.

Jimin, who transforms from Voldemort to a calico cat (thank fuck), jumps onto Lestrange in attempt to redirect his attention and scratches with his little paws on his back while clinging onto his clothes. The Death Eater howls in pain and manages to yank Jimin off, sending the cat flying and mewling.

Instead of waiting to be attacked, Yoongi strikes first. He leaps and raises his fist, but when his hand gets into contact with the Death Eater’s face, instead of leaving a slap print, he leaves four bleeding wounds that look exactly like claw marks.

Here’s a thing about Yoongi: despite being a Ministry worker who fights the most dangerous criminals in Britain, Yoongi did not register as a snow leopard Animagus. He does that for many good reasons, one of them being he doesn’t want anyone to use that to track him. It’s his secret to keep, and he’s not planning to let every Death Eater out there know that. Why give up a very good advantage when you can really use it when you’re in great need?

He’s already made it clear to his superiors that he’s not telling them his entire life story, and since he’s the best England’s got, no one protested. He skipped the part where it was himself, not an accident, that killed his mother, and the part where he had beaten up quite a few kids, some of them a few years older than him, who discriminated against Jungkook when they first came to Hogwarts. He did tell them that he’s a Veela, but didn’t tell them about the part about his power over fire and emotions. And of course, he left out the Animagus part.

So right now Yoongi’s eternally grateful for his past self that he kept his secret, because while Rabastan thinks he’s slowly killing Yoongi by summoning that snowstorm, he’s actually fueling Yoongi’s power. Right here, it's a snow leopard's territory. Yoongi's territory.

Yoongi snarls into Lestrange’s face after pinning his body down with his powerful hind legs, his lips flipping up to bare his razor-sharp teeth. The sound that leaves his throat is more animalistic than human. Instead of feeling his clothes against his skin, he feels a thick coat of fur that protects him from the cold. The amount of adrenaline in his bloodstream seems to double.

“Fuck!” The Death Eater, a wrestling, bloody mess under Yoongi’s claws, yelps and tries to flip Yoongi over. They roll around for a bit, both of them trying to gain the upper ground, and Yoongi continues to snarl his snow leopard snarl, clawing at Lestrange with every chance he gets. It doesn’t take long for the snowy white fur on his big paws to turn red with the man's blood.

His nails drag along Yoongi’s skin, which is more annoying than hurting. Yoongi’s sure his claws cause a lot more damage than human nails, so he’s not going to complain.

He will kill this man just for the crime of scaring Jimin. A quick glance to the side proves that Jimin, now in his human form, is unharmed, just slightly spooked. Their eyes meet temporarily before Yoongi turns away, continuing to snarl and claw at the man.

Yoongi suddenly feels a familiar, magical pull that transports him to another place. It feels suspiciously like the Death Eater is Apparating both of them to somewhere else, and Yoongi’s theory proves to be true when the ground Yoongi pins his to is no longer the snow-covered hospital floor, but the hard road.

Sounds around him immediately fill him in where exactly he is. Cars speed pass them, barely missing them, and people around them scream in terror (Yoongi’s not sure if they’re screaming at the blood or at him). Car tires screech sharply as some cars come to a sudden halt. There are some dogs barking and babies crying.

They’re in the middle of a fucking crossroad.

That doesn’t stop Yoongi from trying to tear the Rabastan's head off his neck, though.

The logical part of Yoongi knows that he has to calm down. He could claim that it was self-defense when he tried to kill the Death Eater in the hospital since the security cameras were disabled by the blizzard and that Rabastan Lestrange did use the killing curse, but he can’t kill the man right here, right now. There are possibly hundreds of witnesses, possibly both Muggles and wizards, around, and they’ll all see an unstable male Auror killing a man.

He can’t kill Lestrange.

Yoongi lets out a surprised yowl when the Death Eater kicks him in the stomach, but thanks to his quick reflexes he lands rather gracefully, his long fluffy tail helping him gain balance. He crouches down, feeling his fur standing up in alarm, as he lets out a feline hiss.

Lestrange, however, doesn’t make any move to attack. He stares at Yoongi with wide eyes and an unreadable expression before his eyes still and his head lolls away. The street is suddenly bustling with people abandoning their cars to flee for their lives and other people dialing 999 from a safe distance.

Great. Now Yoongi has to obliviate all of them.

“Obliviate.” A deep voice says from behind him, and Yoongi literally jumps a meter high in surprise. He turns around to see a tall man in perfect office attire, flicking his wand a little while walking towards Yoongi.

It only takes a few seconds for all the people around them to look confused. Some return to their abandoned cars and drive away, and others put their phones back into their pockets, probably wondering about why they were trying to call 999 in the first place. Yoongi lets out a deep sigh; that’s one less problem to worry about.

There’s a new problem, though. That guy isn’t just gonna obliviate himself, so there’s still going to be one witness. And as long as there are witnesses, a secret can’t be kept.

“Hey, hyung.” Yoongi is so spaced out he doesn’t see the man moving towards him and crouching in front of him. The man keeps his distance, but his gaze never leaves Yoongi.

Hold the fuck up. Did the person just call him hyung?

Yoongi squints, not because he can’t see but because he’s losing his focus, and scans the person’s face. Those soft, warm eyes stare straight back at him. The man’s perfectly done hair is dyed beige, clean and professional. His features are sharp and defined beautifully. And when the man offers him a smile, Yoongi sees a rectangle.

He didn’t think he’d see that fucking boxy smile for another twenty years or something.

“Come on, we’ll go to my place,” Taehyung Kim says, and reaches out tentatively before scratching Yoongi’s left ear gently. “Do you think you can change back? Pretty sure Muggles aren’t okay seeing a snow leopard walking on the streets.”

Yoongi makes a grunting sound from the back of his throat and transforms back to human, almost stumbling without a tail to keep him balanced. His hurt shoulder is hurting like hell, like it’s struck by lightning. He takes a deep breath through his nostrils and holds up a finger before Taehyung can say anything.

“I’m okay.” Yoongi says after a few seconds of making sure he won’t scream once he opens his mouth. He moves towards Lestrange’s body, his gaze avoiding the mauled chest and face and his fingers testing for a pulse. There is none.

“Hyung, your eye . . .” Taehyung snaps his mouth shut, not finishing his sentence. Yoongi knows full well that he’s talking about his scar.

“I said I’m okay.” Yoongi stands up on slightly wobbly legs.

“And your shoulder doesn’t look good . . . I’ll stop.” Taehyung shuts his mouth again after seeing Yoongi’s deadly glare. Taehyung looks a lot more mature than a year ago, but the way he talks certainly didn’t change one bit. He’s still the dorky kid Yoongi remembers.

Yoongi hangs his head low. Taehyung isn’t supposed to see him like this. Taehyung’s not supposed to see him trying to kill someone with his bare hands. Taehyung probably thinks he’s insane and a serial killer now.

“I won’t ask questions,” Taehyung says quietly, as if reading Yoongi’s mind. “But you’ll have to tell me if something’s seriously wrong.”

“I’ll fucking tell you only when I think I need to tell you.” Yoongi scoffs and leans against Taehyung for support. There are scratch wounds along his legs that make them weak and wobbly. His shoulders hurt, and his head is dizzy with exhaustion. He digs out his phone, and, with trembling fingers, he dials Jimin’s number.

Taehyung wraps a careful arm around Yoongi to help him stand and frowns at Yoongi’s phone. “Jiminie? What’s this got to do with him?”

“That bastard attacked me when I was at St. Mungo’s.” Yoongi grits out as he places his phone to his ear. “Jimin was there.”

“Fuck,” Taehyung’s grip on Yoongi’s waist tightens a little.

Jimin picks up after one ring. “Oh my god hyung are you okay I have no idea where you guys went you just disappeared out of nowhere and I thought you were dead and the blizzard disappeared once you guys left and my boss is asking me questions and I know the Ministry should be barging in and asking questions too but literally no one came and I called you four times and you didn’t answer and I thought . . .”

“He’s okay if he can talk like that,” Taehyung says, smiling faintly, but his muscles are still tense.

Yoongi must’ve forgotten to turn down the volume because apparently Taehyung, a normal human with a normal hearing ability can hear him.

“Jimin-ah, chill. I’m okay. I’m with Tae right now. The bastard ran.”

“Did he hurt you?” Jimin raises his voice on the other side of the phone.

“Nothing serious.” Yoongi looks back down at the scratch wounds, all of them still oozing blood. “Go take a month off, okay? Treat yourself with Michelin food or something. I’ll send you my credit card.”

“You don’t have to,” Jimin says and Yoongi can hear Jimin’s pout.

Yoongi ends the call right there and stuffs his phone back to his pocket. He lets out a deep sigh that sounds a lot sadder than he’s feeling right now.

“A random but relevant question,” Taehyung speaks up as he gently leads Yoongi to where Yoongi supposes is where Taehyung lives.

“Shoot.” Yoongi says curtly. He generally hates talking too much whenever he gets tired, so he keeps his words at a minimum.

“The Ministry might be pretty terrible at times, but they’re not stupid enough to send a lone Auror after someone like Rabastan Lestrange.” Taehyung lowers his voice when he says this. Yoongi groans at how much Taehyung pays attention to the littlest things, but even he has to admit that everything Taehyung says is right.

“And I heard from your conversation with Jimin that the Ministry didn’t come visit you back in the hospital.” Taehyung continues with his brows furrowed. “They should at least give you some back-up, right? Doesn’t it sound like they’re intentionally leaving you to fight Lestrange?”

Yoongi stays silent, his head hanging low. So it’s not just him who’s suspicious; there’s something seriously wrong with the Ministry. Why is Yoongi doing everything alone? Why did Potter ask him to fly when Potter himself was also an excellent flier?

“And if this mysterious fugitive slash Death Eater boss really wants you dead, why doesn’t he come to you himself? Wouldn’t he want to kill you himself so he can prove to his followers that he was capable of killing the best Auror in England?” Taehyung pinches the bridge of his nose and grimaces. “I don’t get it.”

“Well, neither do I, so why don’t you shut the hell . . .” Yoongi freezes mid-sentence, and if a computer can measure how fast his brain is working right now, it must be fried by now. It’s not hard to connect the dots if you pay attention to what Taehyung said, and when Yoongi does connect the dots, he feels like dying right there, right now. “I didn’t tell you anything about the Death Eater boss. How do you know about the Death Eater boss?”

Taehyung opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. His eyes are wide and he’s shaking his head the next second. “Hyung, what are you talking about? Why are you suddenly . . .”

“Save it.” Yoongi snarls, pushing Taehyung away despite the fact that his legs are still weak. He digs out his phone again and checks his phone. The volume is turned to the lowest. There was no way Taehyung could have listened in on his conversation with Jimin, so how did Taehyung even know what they were talking about? “Go away.”

“Hyung . . .”

“Get the fuck out of my sight!” Yoongi screams, scaring a few passerby. Even he’s surprised that his voice turns out to be that loud.

He knows he’s being a fucking asshole. Taehyung knowing what’s going on shouldn’t mean that much. It doesn’t prove anything. And it’s not Taehyung’s fault, nor is it Jimin’s fault, that he doesn’t know what the hell is going on. But Yoongi is tired. Tired of secrets and lies and everything he can’t understand. Tired of not being able to get answers and explanations.

Yoongi’s head suddenly feels too dizzy and too heavy, his legs too weak. He turns to see Taehyung wand pointing to him. Taehyung is not saying anything, but Yoongi knows too well that Taehyung is perfectly capable of casting the most impressive spells without even mouthing the incantation.

Did Taehyung just fucking drug me with magic?

Yoongi tries to move, tries to run away or punch Taehyung in the face like he did when they first met, but his limbs aren’t complying. His breath hitches in panic as he starts losing balance. Yoongi sees Taehyung rushing forward to reach him, but Yoongi doesn’t even have the energy to push him hand away.

He passes out before his body can hit the ground.