Querencia

“Expecto Patronum,” Namjoon mutters, for the nth time.

The silver Dementor Patronus springs to life, for the nth time. It floats face to face with Namjoon.

They’re the same height, and Namjoon noticed earlier that they have identical jawlines. It’s as if the Dementor is Namjoon Kim.

Namjoon groans in frustration and slices his hand through the Dementor. It vanishes the moment anger enters Namjoon’s mind and replaces the forced happiness Namjoon conjured to create it.

A Dementor as a Patronus? It has always been this way since Namjoon conjured his first one, but lately he’s just getting more and more annoyed by how his past is slowly eating him alive.

He sits heavily down on his bed and rudely pulls up his sleeve to reveal his left forearm.

On the forearm, there’s a tattoo he never dares to show anyone. It’s a delicate black skull that’s so intricate and realistic it’s kind of scary, with a slithering snake in its mouth, slowly moving with its mouth open and venomous long fangs that are as death-white as the skull on show. The snake is tied in a peculiar knot that looks like an eight. It is usually pale, like a healed scar, but it’s getting a tiny bit darker and clearer every second. It’s the tattoo of a Death Eater.

Namjoon got it during the War. He can’t remember exactly how it happened because it has always been there since he can remember. His parents probably were positive that Voldemort would kill Harry Potter, or else they wouldn’t have scarred their child for life with a tattoo that would lose meaning. And Voldemort was confident that Namjoon would be a powerful and loyal servant to him since only the most faithful Death Eaters have the Mark. Turned out Harry Potter killed Voldemort and the Death Eaters were either on the run, hiding, or dead, and Namjoon was left with this tattoo that reminded him of failure and misery.

“Expecto Patronum,” Namjoon says again, thinking back to his happiest memory.

The Dementor appears face-to-face with Namjoon again. It stares back calmly before vanishing again.

McGonagall was right. Namjoon is Voldemort’s shadow. His Patronus is Voldemort’s servant, and his body bears Voldemort’s mark. He has the gift of Parseltongue, and he is sorted into Slytherin for his ambition and gifts in the Dark Arts. Namjoon looks down at his wand. It’s made of Yew, just like Voldemort’s.

Namjoon has a sudden urge to snap his wand and throws it out of the window. He doesn’t need another reminder that he is exactly like what the rumors say: the next Dark Lord.

Namjoon hisses quietly when the tattoo stings a little. It’s been happening since he met Yoongi, and though it’s not painful enough to affect his everyday life, it’s a little concerning.

It’s near midnight, and Namjoon just returned from the Restricted Section with a book on permanent curses and marks. There’s nothing really useful in them, because the Dark Mark is like no other mark, and because those who bear it are either dead or have refused to talk about it. The only useful thing inside is: “it delivered burning pain whenever the Dark Lord wished to summon his followers.”

That’s impossible. The Dark Lord is dead. His followers were hunted down, one by one. No one should be summoning Namjoon.

But somewhere deep inside him, Namjoon knows something’s up. He knows the Time-Turners that lose control are going to bring them more than just Dementors. And that at some point, he’s going to come face-to-face with the dead Dark Lord.

Namjoon’s feet move before he can realize what he’s doing. He stands up from his bed and grabs the thickest robe he can find, one that’s completely black and long enough to touch the ground. He takes an extra He puts on dark dress shoes and pulls up the hood that covers his black medium-length with silver highlights. He grabs his wand on the bedside table and heads out of the Slytherin dormitory, and then the common room.

He walks briskly but quietly, careful not to make any noise or bump into any wall. He takes his wand out and listens for any sign of patrolling professors or wandering ghosts.

He climbs one staircase to another, heading up to the tallest place in Hogwarts: The Astronomy tower, where only the non-judging stars will accompany him and hopefully bring some serenity back to him.

Namjoon is immediately met with the starry sky the moment he arrives. There are no clouds tonight, and normally Professor Sinistra, who has Astronomy classes during this time, would call this a perfect time to learn about the farthest stars that are otherwise hidden. Namjoon sighs and climbs to the edge of the tower, his feet dangling in the air at least a thousand feet above the ground.

The cold air clears Namjoon’s mind and he sighs. He pulls off his hood and lets the wind hit his face. It immediately starts to sting a little from the cold, but at least it distracts him from the sting on his Mark.

This is exactly what he needs right now. Some peace and quiet.

“Meow.”

Guess not.

Namjoon almost jumps down the tower and falls to his death. He whips over and quickly leaves the edge of the tower with his wand out. “Who’s there?” He hisses quietly but clearly. Can’t trouble leave him alone just once? He really just wants a break.

Was that a meow? Yoongi and Taehyung are cat Animagi, right? He’s not an expert on muggle animals, but he’s pretty sure snow leopards and tigers don’t meow. Did he just mishear it?

“Meow.” Okay, that’s definitely a meow. Not the sharp, scratchy meow from Mrs. Norris, so it’s good news. Probably someone’s pet running rogue. If it’s just a bypassing cat, then Namjoon’s okay with it.

A furry cat emerges from behind the giant telescope that sits in the middle of the classroom and penetrates the ceiling, pointing directly at the stars. Namjoon squints; the starlight isn’t much help when it comes to lighting up shadows.

Namjoon casts a silent Lumos and the tip of the wand lights up the cat.

It’s the most beautiful cat Namjoon’s ever seen. A very furry calico Norwegian forest cat with snow-white mouth, nose, chest, and paws. It walks gracefully with its fluffy tail dragging on the floor, its intelligent pale green eyes squinting a little at the sudden light. It looks really puffy but under the colorful hair, it’s lean and muscular. For some reason, it’s panting slightly as if it had run all the way from the castle grounds to up here.

“Hello there,” Namjoon crouches down a few feet away from the cat, who looks slightly alarmed and on guard. “You’re smart to come here. It’s one of the most peaceful place you can find in Hogwarts.”

The cat stares back at Namjoon as it sits down, its tail carefully folded on its front paws. It tilts its head as if it’s listening carefully to Namjoon’s words.

Namjoon smiles. “If you’re another Animagus who happens to know Taehyung Kim, Jungkook Jung, Hoseok Jung, or Yoongi Min, or a certain Jin hyung, then please know that I’m not interested in getting into any trouble again.”

The cat tilts its head back and starts washing its face with a paw. It’s the cutest thing Namjoon’s seen in days. It meows again and bleps a little with its green eyes contently closed, as if enjoying a sunbath.

“Okay, so I’m just going to pretend you’re not an Animagus and talk to you. Because you’re not an Animagus, you won’t understand me and you’ll just act like a normal cat and ignore me.” Namjoon’s got to a point in life where everything abnormal is a sign of either trouble or the Jin-hyung-family’s doing or both.

The cat continues to wash itself.

“Okay, so since you’re definitely not an Animagus, you’re not a student who sneaks out and is running away from Filch or a professor.” Namjoon sits down in front of the cat and raises his eyebrow. “So that means no one will show up here screaming a student’s name in the next five minutes, right?”

The cat freezes temporarily, but that could totally be Namjoon’s imagination, right?

Namjoon shrugs. “Okay then, cutie. Just so you know, I think you’re a very cute cat. But I guess people tell you that every day, right? There’s just no way your owner doesn’t know you’re cute.”

Just when Namjoon’s going to reach out to pet it, there are heavy footsteps coming up towards the tower that sound suspiciously like Filch’s and a croaky voice shouting: “JIMIN PARK!!” And, simultaneously, a second voice shouts: “NAMJOON KIM!!”

The cat jumps a good two feet high at the sudden voice and crashes into Namjoon. But when Namjoon looks down, he sees not a cat, but a kid with a Ravenclaw robe.

“Hi,” He says cheekily with a pleasantly high voice. He has a beautiful accent that isn’t native here, but very different from Jungkook’s and Yoongi’s.

“So you are an Animagus.” Namjoon says tiredly. “And what the fuck was that?”

“I may or may not have used a charm on Filch to make him dance to the choreography of Blood, Sweat and Tears for a week. He’s been hunting me since yesterday.” The boy, Jimin, says excitedly and bounces on his feet. "Can you imagine Filch doing hip thrusts? I couldn't, so I had this idea."

His individual features aren’t too special, but when they’re combined, they make Jimin look like a god. The combination of his plump lips, small nose, and small, bright eyes is so perfect Namjoon’s left staring. His hair color, unlike the rose pink he saw on him Yoongi was dragging him, is a bright yellow. He must’ve used a lot of dyeing charm. He’s petite, but lean with muscles, just like his cat form. And now that Namjoon realizes it, he does look like a cat in some ways. A very cute one with an extremely boop-able nose.

“What’s Blood, Sweat and Tears?” Namjoon asks quizzically instead.

Jimin gapes. “You really don’t know? We used to perform that song at the Three Broomsticks all the time! People pay to watch our performance! We’ve even went to Durmstrang to perform just to show them how bad a mistake it was to expel an angel like Kookie and sweetheart like Yoongi hyung.”

“Who’s we?” Namjoon asks.

Jimin looks genuinely surprised. His hair color suddenly switches to blue-green. Now it’s Namjoon’s turn to gape, but Jimin doesn’t seem to see that. “Me, Tae, Kook, Hobi hyung, Yoongi hyung, and Jin hyung,” Jimin says slowly. “We’re pretty famous, mate. You really sure you haven’t heard of us? You know, BTS? Does that ring a bell?”

“No,” Namjoon admits. “I order takeout from the Three Broomsticks. Never went there in person.” He can totally imagine Jimin dancing to sexy songs judging from how sexy he looks already, but he would never guess they’re not only a family, but a group of successful singers and dancers too.

“Come on, you must’ve at least heard of Permission to Dance? Our most recent song? It was such a big hit! There’s no chance someone’s never heard of that!” Jimin squawks, looking slightly panicked at Namjoon’s confusion.

“Sorry, I don’t listen to music.” Now that’s the biggest lie Namjoon’s ever said. Music is basically his life and whenever he gets bored in class, he thinks of some songs and rewrites the lyrics on his textbooks. He used to rap under the name Runch Randa (young Namjoon thought the name sounded cool. Present Namjoon no longer thinks so) in Knockturn Alley.

“Not to self-promote or anything, but you gotta listen to those songs. They’re amazing.” Jimin says enthusiastically, and his hair color changes once again: this time to a slightly paler shade of yellow with some streaks of light orange.

“What. Is that.” Namjoon says, breathing through his nose. The irregular steps of Filch and McGonagall are coming closer now. If they don’t find a way out, they’re screwed. Not sure if Jimin would be screwed, but Namjoon would for sure. He’s caused enough trouble already and he swears McGonagall is glaring at him every chance she gets during Transfiguration.

“What?” Jimin says, a big smile still stretched on his face. Namjoon notices that when he smiles like that, his eyes turn into cute crescents.

“You’re a Metamorphmagus,” Namjoon states the obvious. “Your haired just turned color twice.”

“Yeah,” Jimin waves dismissively. “Very useful when you’re running away from a professor. Recently I found out that with silver hair and purple eyes you’d look like a very handsome vampire.”

Filch is cursing loudly from below and is getting really close now. Namjoon instinctively pulls up his hood. “Okay, now how do we get away?” He asks while bouncing on his toes impatiently. “I have a few plans in mind right now and . . .”

“Ravenclaws take pride in their creativity.” Jimin says, cutting off Namjoon and seemingly unaware of what he has done. He smiles excitedly, as if Filch isn’t just a few steps behind them. “Most Ravenclaws show their creativity in academics, but not me. When I change hair color or eye color, I put in creativity. When I dance and write songs, I put in creativity. When I run away from professors when I’m caught, I put in creativity.”

“Okay, okay!” Namjoon is whisper-screaming now. “Now how the fuck do we leave?"

“Haven’t you been listening?” Jimin doesn’t sound angry at all. In fact, he sounds and looks way too cheerful. “We leave creatively.”

When Jimin says he’s going to get both of them out creatively, Namjoon doesn’t expect being pushed off the Astronomy tower.

Creativity can mean many things. Jimin could’ve casted a spell that makes the other side of the castle explode as a distraction. He could’ve used a jinx to blind Filch and McGonagall temporarily, allowing them to escape. He could’ve summoned a broom from the Quidditch stand and flown down to safety.

But instead, Jimin pushes Namjoon off the Astronomy tower.

“Fuuuuucckkkk!” Namjoon screams as he falls, and the ground is closing up before his eyes at a dangerous speed. His heart feels like it’s jumping out of his throat and all the muscles on his stomach convulse. His brain quickly looks for a solution out, and the first thought that comes to mind is, of course, the broom in the Quidditch stand. “Accio, broom!”

Namjoon can’t see Jimin, but he hears someone cheering happily from above him so apparently Jimin jumped down too. And judging from how far Filch’s and McGonagall’s screams sound, they didn’t jump. He isn’t sure if he should be relieved that Jimin didn’t just kill Namjoon but himself too, or alarmed that both of them are still falling to their deaths.

He can see the broom flying towards him, but he knows it’s not going to make it in time. He braces himself for impact and prepares his wand to cast a softening charm that will hopefully make the ground all soft and bouncy like his pillow. Oh god, how much does he miss his pillow right now.

But before he can do anything or fall to his death peacefully, a pair of small hands grab his upper arms and suddenly he’s pulled up instead of falling down. He screams again, but somehow the person holding him is flying, stopping in mid-air despite the harsh wind.

Namjoon feels someone hugging him from the back tightly like a koala with legs tightly clinging to his waist. He feels a head buried to his nape and hot, quick breaths blowing on his neck. “Jimin?” Namjoon asks, and makes a mistake turning back.

There are fucking enormous wings. Pitch-black feathered wings, each one the size of two Jimins, are flapping in the air and placed in a certain angle that goes against the wind and enables them to float in one spot without the wind agitating them. They’re like a dark angel’s wings, or a bird of prey’s wings. Every flap is so powerful it cuts through the fierce wind and sends it to the opposite direction.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asks, trying not to panic at Jimin’s sudden clinginess. “And don’t touch me like that.”

“Yeah,” Jimin says against Namjoon’s neck and there’s a sudden rumbling behind him. Namjoon realizes that Jimin is laughing. “That was so fun, wasn’t it?”

“Sure,” Namjoon says unsurely. “You have wings. Human transfiguration?”

“One of my specialties,” Jimin says proudly. “McGonagall says my human transfiguration ability is already enough to pass the NEWTs. And I’m only a fourth-year.”

“That’s very impressive,” Namjoon says, thinking back to how he attempted to grow his nails using human transfiguration and ended up having eagle talons. “Would you please put us down?”

Jimin laughs again, and glides soundlessly down to the Castle grounds. The moment their feet touch the ground, the Jimin folds his black wings carefully to his back and transforms himself back to a normal human without the wings. Jimin lets go of Namjoon, who immediately takes a step away from Jimin’s touch.

“How was that?” Jimin asks.

Namjoon crosses his arms on his chest defensively, and hides his wand beneath his arm. Adrenaline is still running in his veins, keeping his body hot despite the cold air. “It’s . . . refreshing,” Namjoon admits. He almost forgets what he was troubled about earlier.

“Some excitement and action keeps you on your toes and your worries out of reach.” Jimin says wisely, and pauses. “Did you have fun? I hope you had fun.”

Namjoon smiles a little at Jimin’s cuteness, but makes sure Jimin doesn’t see that. “Hmm.”

“Yoongi hyung told me you were sad,” Jimin continues. “But he wouldn’t tell me what you were sad about. Please don’t be sad, okay?”

Namjoon’s seriously going to combust if Jimin gets any cuter than this. Sure, he appreciates Jimin’s concern, but to be honest, it’s none of his business.

“I’m okay.” Namjoon brushes Jimin’s concern off.

“We know about the tattoo,” Jimin says, and Namjoon completely freezes. Jimin flinches and looks away. “I’m sorry. We never lied to you, not once, but we didn’t tell you everything we know.”

“We, as in you six?” Namjoon says, taking another step away from Jimin. A subtle anger starts to build up inside him. “You never had to tell me everything. I didn’t care. But none of my business is your business.”

Jimin raises both hands in surrender. “Please, TaeTae is a just a kid, hyung. He doesn’t know how to control his abilities. You have to forgive him.”

“You don’t know how much effort I put in to make this a secret,” Namjoon hisses, and Jimin flinches again. Namjoon points his wand at Jimin. He doesn’t want to hurt Jimin, not at all, but he can’t just walk away knowing that there are people out there who seems to know exactly who he is and what secrets he hold closest to his heart. He’s a person, for fuck’s sake, and he is not going to let people take advantage of his secrets. “I’m sorry, but I have to obliviate you.”

“It’s not his fault,” Jimin says again, looking not scared, but slightly sad. “You can do whatever you want to me, but understand that it’s not his fault. He can’t control it.”

Namjoon pauses and squints. “Is it really worth it, Jimin Park, that you suffer for another person? Why are you defending someone else when it’s you who’s in danger?”

Jimin blinks. “He’s my mate, a family,” he says slowly, as if confused why Namjoon doesn’t get it. “Of course I’ll suffer for him. Of course I’m defending him.”

“Would you die for him, then?” Namjoon asks, all anger gone, replaced by pure confusion. He doesn’t lower his wand yet, though. He isn’t sure if he’s going to change his mind. “Is his life so much more precious than yours, you’d die for him?”

“In a heartbeat.” Jimin says without hesitation. He doesn’t make any move to defend himself, just standing there at Namjoon’s mercy, but with his head held high and eyes proud. “That’s what makes us family, hyung. Our undying loyalty and love for each other is what brings us together. I would die for him and I know he would die for me too. Love makes us strong.”

“It makes you weak.” Namjoon says lowly. “You sacrifice yourself for a friend, and you die a saint. You save your own ass and you’re a survivor.”

“You really don’t get how this whole family and love thing works, huh,” Jimin says, tilting his head. He frowns to think for a moment, then he lights up like he just thinks of something amazing. “Think of it this way. When two people love each other, their forces combine because they watch each other’s back. In our case, when seven people love each other, we strive to become the best version of ourselves so we can protect each other better. It’s like math if you think about it.”

“And what makes you think I’m going to be one of you?” Namjoon says doubtfully.

Jimin shrugs. “Jin hyung says so. One does not argue with Jin hyung. And you probably don’t know this, but we know exactly what you feel right now.”

“You didn’t have dead murderers as parents. You didn’t have to practice the Dark Arts to protect yourself when you were just a little kid, or have to visit Azkaban every week to watch your parents suffer. You didn’t have people screaming bloody murder at you because they thought you were going to be just like your mum and dad. I did.” Namjoon says coldly.

“You didn’t have Muggle parents who decided they didn’t want you when they saw your eyes turn red the moment you were born.” Jimin retorts, his hair now a shade of fiery red. His eyes are completely and terrifyingly white except for the two single dots, the pupils. “You didn’t spend your life in an orphanage. You didn’t go to Beauxbatons, where everything is beautiful, where the pressure of being beautiful is so suffocating you are expected to hide all your ugliness.” Jimin takes a deep breath to calm himself. “But I did.”

“You didn’t have to see all the horrors everyone around you has ever seen and feel all the fears everyone ever has. You didn’t wake up every night, screaming, tormented by the nightmares that don’t belong to you. You didn’t suffer from splitting headaches because too much information was stuffed into your brain. But Taehyung did.”

Namjoon opens his mouth to speak, but Jimin isn’t planning to stop. He completely ignores Namjoon and continues:

“You didn’t have to watch your mother burn to ashes in a fire you accidentally started when you were just seven, not yet mastered how to control your abilities. You didn’t dye your white hair black to hide what you are, or drown yourself in the coldest lake in attempt to extinguish the murderous fire inside you that threatened to burn down everything you loved. You didn’t need to hide every emotion you had because you were scared that people would know your fears. But Yoongi hyung did.”

Jimin takes a deep breath right after talking non-stop without breathing. Namjoon just stares at him, not sure if he should help or stay where he is. He processes through everything Jimin just said. So that’s why Taehyung was lying low when he could’ve manipulated everyone around him to get anything he wanted, Namjoon thinks. That’s why Yoongi hyung looked so angry when I mentioned fireballs.

“I’m just saying, we were like you. Distrustful. Aggressive. Scared of being hurt again.” Jimin’s voice is soft, not accusing, but empathizing. He stares up at Namjoon, and his hair changes into a deep, sad blue. Almost black. His eyes turn into a warm golden color. “I was like you. And Jin hyung was kind enough to give us the love we were desperate for. You can start over with our help. We can give you the love I know you need, but you gotta let us first.”

Namjoon stays exactly where he is, breathing heavily. His wand remains pointing at Jimin. If all Jimin’s said is true, then is there hope that he could change? Erase who he is now and reborn as a new person? Forget about his past and start all over?

A stabbing pain on his left forearm brings tears to his eyes. He yelps, and clutches the arm.

It’s a reminder. No. The Mark will always be there to remind him that he is, in fact, a hopeless case.

“You’re lying,” Namjoon says. His lips are quivering, and his grip on his wand tightens. He hides his hurting arm into his cloak “You can’t do anything for me. You’re lying.”

Instead of feeling intimidated, like normal people should, Jimin jumps in to give Namjoon the biggest hug he’s ever had.

Jimin wraps his arms around Namjoon’s torso tightly and presses his cheek to Namjoon’s chest shamelessly. He squeezes hard and when Namjoon completely freezes, Jimin takes Namjoon’s hand gently and guides it to wrap it around his own body. Namjoon’s too shocked to resist, allowing Jimin to rearrange his position into a proper hug. Jimin closes his eyes contently and makes a little purring sound like a cat.

“Yoongi hyung never lets me hug him,” Jimin says against Namjoon’s chest. “He calls me clingy. Can you believe that? He calls me clingy.”

Namjoon stares down at the Ravenclaw boy he barely knows and wonders how he got himself into a situation like this, but he doesn’t have the heart to push him away. No one should have the heart to refuse a hug from Jimin.

“You’re really fluffy in this robe,” Jimin keeps rambling cutely. “Warm, too. Please wear this more often and I’ll come over to give you hugs.”

Namjoon stares down at the ball of warmth pressed into his body. After knowing so much about him, after knowing how dark and dangerous Namjoon is, Jimin chooses to hug him and compliment his robe. And Namjoon does the thing he would never imagine himself doing: he hugs back.

He’s done with being cold. He’s done with being alone. Jimin Park is right here, offering the love he’s been needing and refusing to look for. And, as if Jimin’s warmth is contagious, Namjoon feels warm in the insides too.

He buries his face in Jimin’s soft hair, which changes color to a pale lavender. It’s dark under the starlight, but Jimin is glowing bright, brighter than any star. Namjoon inhales and closes his eyes, allowing his heartbeat to calm.

Is it what acceptance feels like?

“My hairs and eyes change with my emotions.” Jimin stands on his tiptoes to smell Namjoon’s vulnerable neck, still not releasing Namjoon from the hug. Namjoon freezes temporarily, but relaxes when Jimin presses his nose to Namjoon and nuzzles him. “And fortunately, I’m a sentimental person, so you can see many hair colors and eye colors on me.”

Namjoon moves his hand to the back of Jimin’s pale lavender head and presses Jimin to himself. “What are you feeling right now?” He says softly, but his voice ends up cracking.

“Retrouvailles,” Jimin says without hesitation. The French word sounds extremely beautiful with Jimin’s voice. That's how Namjoon realizes that JImin's unique accent is French. “It means the happiness of reuniting with someone you deeply love after a very long time.”

“I don’t know about that.” Namjoon says hesitantly. Still, pale lavender becomes his favorite color. “I didn’t even know you existed until last week. No offense.”

“None taken.” Jimin says easily. “But I’ve known you for a long, long time. It’s as if we’re destined to meet, right? Like we’ve met in our past lives and now we’re reuniting again. I missed you, Joonie hyung.”

Namjoon doesn’t know how to reply to this. Although he doesn’t wholeheartedly agree to what Jimin thinks about this destiny thing, but there’s a weird tingling sensation that makes him relate to what Jimin’s saying.

“. . . I missed you too.”

“I love the stars,” Jimin says quietly as he lies down on the grass and watches the stars above. Namjoon follows suit. “That’s why I go to the Astronomy Tower all the time. I love to think that there are so many unknown things out there waiting for us to learn. Your world may just be in your cauldron, Joonie hyung, but my world is out there.”

“To be honest, I never loved Potions as much as you love Astronomy,” Namjoon admits. “I like thinking about potions, but not making them.”

“Someday, if you invent a potion with stars in it, I swear I’ll try my best to pass Potions,” Jimin says, squirming and inching closer to Namjoon, whose breath hitches. He does nothing to stop Jimin, though.

“Someday, I’ll brew a potion that contains a million galaxies in it.” Namjoon promises and smiles a little when Jimin purrs like a cat. Normally Namjoon would think twice before making a promise, but this time he doesn’t because he knows he’ll do anything for Jimin already. That would sound reckless to the Namjoon a week ago, but not anymore. “There will be a million galaxies, nebulae, asteroids, and planets. The potion’s going to be pitch black, but if you look closer, you’ll see stars embroidered in the night sky. You’ll see your entire universe.”

“That sounds like the lyrics from one of our songs,” Jimin says softly and closes his eyes. He turns his head towards Namjoon and smiles a little. “It’s called Mikrokosmos. You should listen to it sometime.”

“I will.” Namjoon smiles, letting his imagination run wild for a moment. Jimin’s endless curiosity and creativity seem contagious, because ideas that never knocked on Namjoon’s door are flowing in like ocean waves. “I’ll brew you a potion with every flower in the Victorian Language of Flowers. It can make you smell the the most beautiful scents and see most beautiful dreams.”

“I know floriography,” Jimin says, his eyes twinkling in interest. “Do you know what flower I would give to you right now?”

Namjoon shakes his head no.

“Globe amaranth,” Jimin says, smiling sweetly. “Unfading love.”

“And I’d give you ambrosia,” Namjoon says, feeling a non-competitive floriography knowledge competition coming up. “Love returned.”

“Cedar leaf,” Jimin says while seductively lifting his eyebrow. “I live for thee.”

“Milk vetch,” Namjoon continues. “Your presence softens my pains.”

“Four-leaved clover,” Jimin says, looking victorious as if he’s going to checkmate. “Be mine.”

Namjoon is rarely speechless. But this time, he is totally, completely speechless.

“Tell me about other potions you’ll make,” Jimin says, changing the subject and curling up a little more when a gust of cold wind hits them.

Namjoon hugs Jimin to his chest, his long cape covering half of Jimin to keep the Ravenclaw warm. “I’ll brew you another potion with all the sweetest and most colorful music notes and melodies in it. And when you come close to the potion, you’ll hear music that will move your soul and fill your heart with all the love in the world. I would probably break a thousand cauldrons, but that’ll be worth it.”

Jimin giggles. “So a bit like Amortentia?”

Namjoon threads his fingers into Jimin’s hair. “You’re right. Like Amortentia. But instead of being forced to love someone else, you fall in love with yourself. It’ll remind you of exactly who you are.”

Jimin’s eyes are half closed by now. “I want to know who the real me is.”

“Real Me,” Namjoon repeats, closing his eyes. Something in him changes, but he doesn’t know what. “I’m curious too.”

“Pst,” Someone says from above Namjoon.

Namjoon groggily blinks his eyes open and is nearly scared out of his skin when all he sees is a close-up of someone’s eyeball. The person blinks, his long eyelashes almost grazing Namjoon’s, and pulls back.

It’s Taehyung, crouching beside him and staring at him with wide brown eyes. The sky above him is still dark, but the tiniest hint of sunrise is already there.

“Hey,” Namjoon greets sleepily, and realizes that Jimin has fallen asleep against his chest, the Ravenclaw boy’s arms tightly around Namjoon’s torso and legs slightly curled between their bodies. And at some point of the night Namjoon had let Jimin use his arm as a pillow, so now Namjoon’s left arm is numb from Jimin’s weight. Jimin’s breath is soft and he looks incredibly peaceful, making it hard for Namjoon to not stare.

Warmth blooms from Namjoon’s heart. What a cute little baby. Last night they were still strangers, and Jimin had been brave enough to approach him and hug him when he was sad and hating and unstable. And not even six hours later, Jimin’s sleeping in Namjoon’s arms, completely trusting despite the hard past he had been through. Namjoon admires his courage for this.

“The Sorting Hat didn’t even think about putting him in Gryffindor, though,” Taehyung suddenly says, reminding Namjoon of his presence and his mind-reading ability. “Jiminie is a Hatstall; the Hat considered putting him in Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. Fun fact: it nearly went for Slytherin.”

“I can see why,” Namjoon says thoughtfully, recalling how determined Jimin sounded when he said he was going to learn everything about Astronomy and when he got all persuasive and didn’t give up on Namjoon.

“I was a Hatstall too!” Taehyung says enthusiastically. “Actually, all six of us are. Or should I say seven?” He makes a weird winking expression that makes Namjoon laugh a little at how Taehyung’s face squeezes up.

Jimin makes a little sound that’s kind of between a purr and a sorrowful whine. Namjoon tenses up immediately, checking if he had hurt Jimin unintentionally.

“No biggie,” Taehyung reassures. “He always makes that noise when he sleeps. And when we ask him, he always says he doesn’t remember anything from his dream.”

“Hope it’s not a nightmare,” Namjoon says quietly. “And I really have to go. Don’t wanna get caught sleeping here.”

“That’s why I’m here!” Taehyung says happily, bouncing up and down. “Here to give Jiminie a ride.”

Namjoon snickers. Oh my God, he fucking snickers. Just how fast he changes overnight. “What about me?” He says, wiggling his eyebrows at Taehyung.

Taehyung’s eyebrows shoot up at Namjoon being out-of-character. “Jiminie did work his magic on you, huh.” Taehyung says, smiling a boxy smile. “He’s just so good at comforting people, right? And sorry, you’ll have to get your own ride.”

Namjoon carefully stands up and gathers Jimin into his arms, carrying him bridal-style. Jimin unconsciously curls in and makes another purring sound comfortably. Taehyung transforms into a beautiful Siberian tiger as tall as Namjoon and nuzzles Namjoon’s face briefly before turning to Jimin.

The way Taehyung stares at Jimin is a beautiful sight on its own. It’s pure adoration and love. I would die for him and I know he would die for me too. Jimin’s loyalty to Taehyung and Taehyung’s loyalty to Jimin is so powerful they would die for each other.

Namjoon only realizes how powerful love can be just now.

He wordlessly lifts Jimin and sets him on Taehyung’s back. He watches as Taehyung runs off, soundless the fading shadows and bright as the morning sun. Namjoon can't help but remember what Jimin said about Taehyung, tormented by other people's nightmares and experiencing other people's fears. But Taehyung right here isn't bitter, isn't blaming the world for cursing his childhood. Taehyung is filled with love and happiness.

On Taehyung back, Jimin sleeps peacefully, trusting Taehyung with his life.

Namjoon shakes his head to clear his head. So, part of the family?

Bonus:

“Expecto Patronum,” Namjoon says with his eyes closed, not sure if he wants to know what he’s going to see.

Jimin had promised that with a new family, things will change for him. He will change. And he was right; some things did change for Namjoon.

He listens to Jimin’s music. Turns out Blood, Sweat, and Tears is, in fact, a great song. He loves how the boys’ voices complement each other perfectly. He recognizes all six voices but one that must belong to Jin hyung. The lyrics are well-written and melodies are memorable. Namjoon often catches himself smiling unconsciously while listening to their music.

The potions he promised Jimin he’d make are already in progress. It’s going to take a long while for Namjoon to brew them properly, but all the hard work and research are worth it. Namjoon often listens to Magic Shop whenever he makes potions to motivate himself.

Namjoon knows in his bones that things are going to change a lot after this. The Time-Turners are still there and the Dementors keep coming back. His Mark hurts a bit more everyday. His encounter with Jimin is just fiving him a small break. Just the calm before the storm.

Namjoon feels the cool midnight breeze caressing his face with his eyes still closed. He can already see the silver light through his eyelids. He needs proof that the new family really can transform him, that Namjoon really has been resurrected.

He opens his eyes, and lets out a small gasp.

Where the Dementor Patronus usually stands, a silvery bird with magnificent wide wings that reflect the starlight, which makes it shine brighter than any Patronus Namjoon’s ever seen. Its tail is longer and more beautiful than a peacock’s. It’s radiating pleasant warmth and a peaceful yet powerful aura.

A phoenix.

Namjoon holds up his arm, and the phoenix lands on his arm, weightless but existent, abstract but real. The phoenix only gazes at him for a few moments before bursting into silver flames and disappearing into the night.

He closes his eyes and smiles.

In the flames of his dark, terrible past, Namjoon is reborn.