It's a Flashlight, Not a Wand Pt. 2
Title: It's a Flashlight, Not a Wand Pt. 2
Pairing: J-Hope/Suga
Rating: G
Words: 2324
Prompt: Companion
A/N: Harry Potter!AU I decided I wanted to make a follow up to It's a Flashlight, Not a Wand because there were just some unanswered questions lingering in the air. Nothing too much, just a bit of unraveling in their back stories. Again, this is set between Hoseok's third and fourth year, making him fourteen, and between Yoongi's fourth and fifth, him being fifteen. Also, in this AU their names are Hoseok Romsey and Yoongi Rose. Hope ya'll enjoy!
There's a silence in the air that Yoongi doesn't feel is uncomfortable, but it most probably is. He can see how the boy next to him is fiddling with his hands under the counter, snuggly tucked into the fabric of his coal-stained coat. He's looking a little like a chimney sweeper, with the whole rustic slash coal covered look. His cheeks have smudges on them, Yoongi sees, from the intense ride he must have had through the Rose families ancient fireplace. Never in Yoongi's fifteen years of existence has he seen the classic Victorian furnace with actual fire in it, lighting up the room in a cozy way that warms everything around with tender care. It's always just been there to compliment his mother's interior design, a perfect piece in her puzzle of perfection, just as Yoongi is a decoration in her perfect world.
Yoongi sighs heavily, the warm steam from his boiling Earl Grey dusts up against his face, and he sets the cup down with a small clank. He shouldn't be thinking that way. He's not actually just a decoration in his mother's picture perfect life. He's much more than that, and he knows it, somewhere deep down. But he can't help but feel the depression his mother's façade shadows upon him. It's - it just makes him feel like something that can be replaced easily. And the whole boarding school/wizarding school thing doesn't really help. It just draws a bigger gap in between them.
"You seem pretty tense," Hoseok, the guy who's randomly stumbled into his home, says. There's a nervous tone in his voice, and Yoongi's pretty sure it's because the other thinks he's going to pull out his wand and kill him, or quite possibly with a kitchen knife instead.
"Not really," Yoongi answers disinterestedly. He picks up his cup once again and takes a long, dragged out sip from it that echoes throughout the kitchen.
"My mum's a nurse," Hoseok suddenly blurts out into the early morning's glory. There's nothing but a clicking sound from the few branches of their cherry tree hitting the glass of the kitchen window lightly, and then the unfamiliar stranger speaks again. "She works too much, just to get me through school."
"So, what? You pickpocket for a living?" Yoongi snorts in amusement into his cup, but when Hoseok doesn't answer, he stops the clunk he's supposed to take and sets the china down.
"Accidentally went too far, grabbing something important," Hoseok whispers quietly, and he looks pitiful in Yoongi's eyes with his head lowered and his eyes tired with a heaviness. He's so young, Yoongi thinks. He can't be more than fourteen, and the immaturity is so evident to him that Yoongi feels like he needs to snort at the patheticness of it all, but he doesn't.
Yoongi wonders if he should say something, maybe something encouraging or something to sooth the pressures lying on the boy's shoulders. But it would just sound so foreign and unrealistic from his lips, like a lie being told.
Hoseok eventually breaks the tense air, fishing out a yellow looking pendent with his incredibly dirty fingers. It dangles in the air for a moment before he sets it down on the marble counter in between them, and the pendant stares at Yoongi with a shining glimmer. It looks expensive, but nothing more than something that would lie on rich, fat woman's neck. Yoongi does snort this time.
"I know, but the man chased me down every alley at Knockturn and followed me through four floo stops." Hoseok sighs as he stares at the jewelry with knitted brows. Yoongi won't deny he's curious too, as to what it is of course, not as to what Hoseok was doing in Knockturn Alley at two in the morning.
"Tried opening it?"
"Yeh, but it fires back a counter spell. Burned three fingers already." He hold up his right hand, showing off the crispy tips of his nails and the red licks the flames have left. "It seems important enough to try to cast an Unforgivable at me."
Yoongi turns fully to look at him, an actual emotion surfacing through his stale face, but Hoseok does nothing but sigh philosophically at the artifact. He pokes it with a dirty finger and a light glaze sparks under his fingertips. The whole situation is weird, a locket so important for a fat rich man to run after a scrawny boy with so much energy in his legs, at least, that's the image Yoongi imagines to himself.
"With magic?"
"Yeh," Hoseok answers again, lost in the gaze of the yellow locket. Yoongi picks it up, and the boy's eyes follow his hands. Yoongi twirls it around in his fingers, inspecting it with an un-amused gaze. His eyes feel droopy the longer he stares at it, and he swears he can hear the smallest of singing coming from it. He's reminded of a time when a classmate of his had brought back a capsule from his trip to some ancient mermaid town. The same kind of siren-like singing ruminates in Yoongi's ears, a soft melody he would kill for. It lulls him into a toxic state, unnerving to the reality of life. Things flash before him, images he doesn't know what to make of. There's one with his mother and a girl Yoongi's age, then it turns to his father and his best mate, laughing and discussing fashionable cars, then there's images of all his classmates and other students from their school, laughing together, socializing, making memories to last a life time. A surging pain settles within Yoongi because all the images he sees in the locket are of things he can't have, he can't fulfill. His chest tightens and he swallows hard with his jaw locked into place.
"It's dangerous," is all he says before setting it down quickly, and the glowing disappears with the touch. The screeching of his chair being pushed out from him standing up meets the hallow silence in the house, and Hoseok follows his movements with locked eyebrows.
"What do you mean?" He twists around as Yoongi walks around the kitchen island, setting his still half full cup in the sink. Suddenly, he's lost his midnight tea urges.
"Don't look into it," Yoongi answers flatly, still reminiscing the fatigue the locket had dawned upon him. He feels like his limbs are just the slightest heavier after the encounter, and could use nothing but a great bed with new linens and fluffy pillows to bury himself in for the rest of the summer.
"What do ya mean?" Hoseok asks like a little child, eager like it's a must to know whatever riddle Yoongi's come up with. "Not look into it like research or like literally don't look into it?"
Yoongi doesn't answer him, dragging his feet behind him as he walks out of the room, heading towards the comfort of his bed. He hears how Hoseok shuffles off his own seat and follows him, but ignores that too. Yoongi doesn't feel like dealing with this, but instead wallowing in his misery regarding his actual problems. He has half the mind to tell the boy to take a shower because he can literally smell the foul rotting odor hastily linked with Knockturn Alley, but he's too lazy, too compelled to cry or something equally disturbing.
"That thing must have been traumatizing," Hoseok mumbles in the darkness as Yoongi slowly walks up the stairs. He feels like a zombie, but oddly enough he can't feel much more than that. "What did you see?"
"Too much," Yoongi answers shortly, and Hoseok huffs behind him.
There's a short silence Yoongi isn't sure if he should revel in or repulse from. Then Hoseok ruins everything once again with the tired sound of his voice. "Where are your parents?"
Yoongi stops on the last step, and Hoseok bumps into his back with a muffled groan before stepping back again. "They're on holiday," he answers flatly because he's not just about to tell a stranger that he's been abandoned over the summer, his parents not even having the decency to tell him he's not being picked up from Kingscross. Yoongi had to wait four hours before finally venturing home on his own, scraping up whatever he had left to purchase a ticket for majority of the way. Then he had walked till his feet were covered in blisters. There wasn't even a Knight Bus to help him out when he was in need.
"Okay. Where'd they go?" Hoseok pushes, and Yoongi really wishes he hadn't.
"I don't know," he replies truthfully, because his parents hadn't even had the decency to tell him anything about this trip of theirs. All they had left was three hundred quid on the kitchen counter. Yoongi brushes off whatever emotions he's experiencing and pulls his insignificant face on as he walks the rest of the way down the large hallway to his room. Hoseok, of course, follows.
A small sound of surprise comes from behind him when they enter, Hoseok obviously curious about everything there. Yoongi ignores Hoseok the best he can, annoyance surging in his veins for so many reasons, and goes to his bookcase and pulls out a rather thick, old book he had gotten from a very nice old man in the outskirts of Wizarding Paris. It's in English, thankfully, and Yoongi knows he's read in it about mermaid artifacts. He doesn't open it though, but instead throws it into Hoseok's arms, who in turn grunts as it hits him square in the chest.
"What's-"
"There's something similar to the locket in there," Yoongi interrupts. Then he opens a drawer, taking out clean sets of clothes because he's on the verge of being sick from the smell radiating off Hoseok. He throws that too in the other's direction, this time Hoseok catches it. "There's the ensuit," he says as he point to the second door in his room, and Hoseok's wide eyes follow his finger.
"You want me to-"
"I can't stand the smell off you." Yoongi leaves Hoseok to it, setting himself down by his computer, disinterestedly editing pictures he had taken over the last year at Hogwarts. A couple of years ago he had figured out how to properly charge his camera and use it whilst away after the horrible incident of his first camera exploding in his face. He could never take propper pictures of the school, but moments they spent outside of the castle were moments Yoongi pulled out his camera.
Despite his passion for photography, his mind slips somewhere else as he listens to the shower head turning on. Why exactly he's invited a stranger into his house for both tea and a shower is insane, especially for Yoongi. But he refuses to blame it on him being lonely, feeling neglected by his parents completely.
Yoongi sighs to himself and cups his head in his hands, the weight of the world dropping onto his shoulders. He feels a thousand things at once, but emptiness consumes him at the same time. What is he supposed to do exactly? There is nothing for him to do, so he takes a brave step in rebelling against whatever safe bubble his mother has put him in. He goes against her words by trusting this stranger, by inviting him into their household and by drinking tea with him. It can't be all bad, now can it?
The question never gets answered for Hoseok clambers out of the ensuit smelling like Yoongi's coconut shampoo - a disastorous thing his mother had bought him - and looking a lot more presentable than before. In his hands are his old clothes, and Yoongi crinkles his nose because they realy do reak. "Leave them in there." Yoongi waves his hand dismissively, and Hoseok does what he's told.
"Are you okay with me staying here for the night?" Hoseok asks tentatively, and shyly sits on the edge of Yoongi's bed in the corner, the furthest place away from Yoongi. Yoongi waves his hand dismissively again and goes back to his computer, looking at the pictures of his classmates laughing with one another. Silence falls between them until Hoseok breaks it again. "Are you okay?"
Yoongi doesn't answer of course.
"I mean, I don't know you, but you don't look too well," Hoseok says, and there's a warmth within his words that foreign to Yoongi's ears. He stops what he's doing and swallows hard because he's so compelled in telling Hoseok about his troubles, in letting it out onto someone who he quite possibly will never meet ever again. It sounds so tempting. "I might not know a lot about the muggle world, but I'm pretty sure parents don't just go on a vacation and not bring their kid."
"I know right!" Yoongi bursts into the room, his arms flailing in exasperation. His façade that he tries to keep every time he's around anyone falls and disembellishes into pure annoyance and anger against his parents. And he finds himself ranting, venting out to a stranger he's just met. And Hoseok listens gladly, nodding every once in a while to show he's still listening. Yoongi doesn't realise he has so much to talk about until Hoseok finally speaks as well, agreeing with Yoongi that yes, it is wrong to do that to a child, yes, it isn't right to neglect your own flesh and blood. And suddenly, rants turn into discussions, discussions turn into deep talks, and deep talks turn into morning sunlight as the next day rolls in through the windows.
They never get to look through the old book from Paris, they never get to fingure out what the locket actually is. But in the future, they'll come back to it for sure. For now, they'll enjoy each other's shoulders to cry on.
Pairing: J-Hope/Suga
Rating: G
Words: 2324
Prompt: Companion
A/N: Harry Potter!AU I decided I wanted to make a follow up to It's a Flashlight, Not a Wand because there were just some unanswered questions lingering in the air. Nothing too much, just a bit of unraveling in their back stories. Again, this is set between Hoseok's third and fourth year, making him fourteen, and between Yoongi's fourth and fifth, him being fifteen. Also, in this AU their names are Hoseok Romsey and Yoongi Rose. Hope ya'll enjoy!
There's a silence in the air that Yoongi doesn't feel is uncomfortable, but it most probably is. He can see how the boy next to him is fiddling with his hands under the counter, snuggly tucked into the fabric of his coal-stained coat. He's looking a little like a chimney sweeper, with the whole rustic slash coal covered look. His cheeks have smudges on them, Yoongi sees, from the intense ride he must have had through the Rose families ancient fireplace. Never in Yoongi's fifteen years of existence has he seen the classic Victorian furnace with actual fire in it, lighting up the room in a cozy way that warms everything around with tender care. It's always just been there to compliment his mother's interior design, a perfect piece in her puzzle of perfection, just as Yoongi is a decoration in her perfect world.
Yoongi sighs heavily, the warm steam from his boiling Earl Grey dusts up against his face, and he sets the cup down with a small clank. He shouldn't be thinking that way. He's not actually just a decoration in his mother's picture perfect life. He's much more than that, and he knows it, somewhere deep down. But he can't help but feel the depression his mother's façade shadows upon him. It's - it just makes him feel like something that can be replaced easily. And the whole boarding school/wizarding school thing doesn't really help. It just draws a bigger gap in between them.
"You seem pretty tense," Hoseok, the guy who's randomly stumbled into his home, says. There's a nervous tone in his voice, and Yoongi's pretty sure it's because the other thinks he's going to pull out his wand and kill him, or quite possibly with a kitchen knife instead.
"Not really," Yoongi answers disinterestedly. He picks up his cup once again and takes a long, dragged out sip from it that echoes throughout the kitchen.
"My mum's a nurse," Hoseok suddenly blurts out into the early morning's glory. There's nothing but a clicking sound from the few branches of their cherry tree hitting the glass of the kitchen window lightly, and then the unfamiliar stranger speaks again. "She works too much, just to get me through school."
"So, what? You pickpocket for a living?" Yoongi snorts in amusement into his cup, but when Hoseok doesn't answer, he stops the clunk he's supposed to take and sets the china down.
"Accidentally went too far, grabbing something important," Hoseok whispers quietly, and he looks pitiful in Yoongi's eyes with his head lowered and his eyes tired with a heaviness. He's so young, Yoongi thinks. He can't be more than fourteen, and the immaturity is so evident to him that Yoongi feels like he needs to snort at the patheticness of it all, but he doesn't.
Yoongi wonders if he should say something, maybe something encouraging or something to sooth the pressures lying on the boy's shoulders. But it would just sound so foreign and unrealistic from his lips, like a lie being told.
Hoseok eventually breaks the tense air, fishing out a yellow looking pendent with his incredibly dirty fingers. It dangles in the air for a moment before he sets it down on the marble counter in between them, and the pendant stares at Yoongi with a shining glimmer. It looks expensive, but nothing more than something that would lie on rich, fat woman's neck. Yoongi does snort this time.
"I know, but the man chased me down every alley at Knockturn and followed me through four floo stops." Hoseok sighs as he stares at the jewelry with knitted brows. Yoongi won't deny he's curious too, as to what it is of course, not as to what Hoseok was doing in Knockturn Alley at two in the morning.
"Tried opening it?"
"Yeh, but it fires back a counter spell. Burned three fingers already." He hold up his right hand, showing off the crispy tips of his nails and the red licks the flames have left. "It seems important enough to try to cast an Unforgivable at me."
Yoongi turns fully to look at him, an actual emotion surfacing through his stale face, but Hoseok does nothing but sigh philosophically at the artifact. He pokes it with a dirty finger and a light glaze sparks under his fingertips. The whole situation is weird, a locket so important for a fat rich man to run after a scrawny boy with so much energy in his legs, at least, that's the image Yoongi imagines to himself.
"With magic?"
"Yeh," Hoseok answers again, lost in the gaze of the yellow locket. Yoongi picks it up, and the boy's eyes follow his hands. Yoongi twirls it around in his fingers, inspecting it with an un-amused gaze. His eyes feel droopy the longer he stares at it, and he swears he can hear the smallest of singing coming from it. He's reminded of a time when a classmate of his had brought back a capsule from his trip to some ancient mermaid town. The same kind of siren-like singing ruminates in Yoongi's ears, a soft melody he would kill for. It lulls him into a toxic state, unnerving to the reality of life. Things flash before him, images he doesn't know what to make of. There's one with his mother and a girl Yoongi's age, then it turns to his father and his best mate, laughing and discussing fashionable cars, then there's images of all his classmates and other students from their school, laughing together, socializing, making memories to last a life time. A surging pain settles within Yoongi because all the images he sees in the locket are of things he can't have, he can't fulfill. His chest tightens and he swallows hard with his jaw locked into place.
"It's dangerous," is all he says before setting it down quickly, and the glowing disappears with the touch. The screeching of his chair being pushed out from him standing up meets the hallow silence in the house, and Hoseok follows his movements with locked eyebrows.
"What do you mean?" He twists around as Yoongi walks around the kitchen island, setting his still half full cup in the sink. Suddenly, he's lost his midnight tea urges.
"Don't look into it," Yoongi answers flatly, still reminiscing the fatigue the locket had dawned upon him. He feels like his limbs are just the slightest heavier after the encounter, and could use nothing but a great bed with new linens and fluffy pillows to bury himself in for the rest of the summer.
"What do ya mean?" Hoseok asks like a little child, eager like it's a must to know whatever riddle Yoongi's come up with. "Not look into it like research or like literally don't look into it?"
Yoongi doesn't answer him, dragging his feet behind him as he walks out of the room, heading towards the comfort of his bed. He hears how Hoseok shuffles off his own seat and follows him, but ignores that too. Yoongi doesn't feel like dealing with this, but instead wallowing in his misery regarding his actual problems. He has half the mind to tell the boy to take a shower because he can literally smell the foul rotting odor hastily linked with Knockturn Alley, but he's too lazy, too compelled to cry or something equally disturbing.
"That thing must have been traumatizing," Hoseok mumbles in the darkness as Yoongi slowly walks up the stairs. He feels like a zombie, but oddly enough he can't feel much more than that. "What did you see?"
"Too much," Yoongi answers shortly, and Hoseok huffs behind him.
There's a short silence Yoongi isn't sure if he should revel in or repulse from. Then Hoseok ruins everything once again with the tired sound of his voice. "Where are your parents?"
Yoongi stops on the last step, and Hoseok bumps into his back with a muffled groan before stepping back again. "They're on holiday," he answers flatly because he's not just about to tell a stranger that he's been abandoned over the summer, his parents not even having the decency to tell him he's not being picked up from Kingscross. Yoongi had to wait four hours before finally venturing home on his own, scraping up whatever he had left to purchase a ticket for majority of the way. Then he had walked till his feet were covered in blisters. There wasn't even a Knight Bus to help him out when he was in need.
"Okay. Where'd they go?" Hoseok pushes, and Yoongi really wishes he hadn't.
"I don't know," he replies truthfully, because his parents hadn't even had the decency to tell him anything about this trip of theirs. All they had left was three hundred quid on the kitchen counter. Yoongi brushes off whatever emotions he's experiencing and pulls his insignificant face on as he walks the rest of the way down the large hallway to his room. Hoseok, of course, follows.
A small sound of surprise comes from behind him when they enter, Hoseok obviously curious about everything there. Yoongi ignores Hoseok the best he can, annoyance surging in his veins for so many reasons, and goes to his bookcase and pulls out a rather thick, old book he had gotten from a very nice old man in the outskirts of Wizarding Paris. It's in English, thankfully, and Yoongi knows he's read in it about mermaid artifacts. He doesn't open it though, but instead throws it into Hoseok's arms, who in turn grunts as it hits him square in the chest.
"What's-"
"There's something similar to the locket in there," Yoongi interrupts. Then he opens a drawer, taking out clean sets of clothes because he's on the verge of being sick from the smell radiating off Hoseok. He throws that too in the other's direction, this time Hoseok catches it. "There's the ensuit," he says as he point to the second door in his room, and Hoseok's wide eyes follow his finger.
"You want me to-"
"I can't stand the smell off you." Yoongi leaves Hoseok to it, setting himself down by his computer, disinterestedly editing pictures he had taken over the last year at Hogwarts. A couple of years ago he had figured out how to properly charge his camera and use it whilst away after the horrible incident of his first camera exploding in his face. He could never take propper pictures of the school, but moments they spent outside of the castle were moments Yoongi pulled out his camera.
Despite his passion for photography, his mind slips somewhere else as he listens to the shower head turning on. Why exactly he's invited a stranger into his house for both tea and a shower is insane, especially for Yoongi. But he refuses to blame it on him being lonely, feeling neglected by his parents completely.
Yoongi sighs to himself and cups his head in his hands, the weight of the world dropping onto his shoulders. He feels a thousand things at once, but emptiness consumes him at the same time. What is he supposed to do exactly? There is nothing for him to do, so he takes a brave step in rebelling against whatever safe bubble his mother has put him in. He goes against her words by trusting this stranger, by inviting him into their household and by drinking tea with him. It can't be all bad, now can it?
The question never gets answered for Hoseok clambers out of the ensuit smelling like Yoongi's coconut shampoo - a disastorous thing his mother had bought him - and looking a lot more presentable than before. In his hands are his old clothes, and Yoongi crinkles his nose because they realy do reak. "Leave them in there." Yoongi waves his hand dismissively, and Hoseok does what he's told.
"Are you okay with me staying here for the night?" Hoseok asks tentatively, and shyly sits on the edge of Yoongi's bed in the corner, the furthest place away from Yoongi. Yoongi waves his hand dismissively again and goes back to his computer, looking at the pictures of his classmates laughing with one another. Silence falls between them until Hoseok breaks it again. "Are you okay?"
Yoongi doesn't answer of course.
"I mean, I don't know you, but you don't look too well," Hoseok says, and there's a warmth within his words that foreign to Yoongi's ears. He stops what he's doing and swallows hard because he's so compelled in telling Hoseok about his troubles, in letting it out onto someone who he quite possibly will never meet ever again. It sounds so tempting. "I might not know a lot about the muggle world, but I'm pretty sure parents don't just go on a vacation and not bring their kid."
"I know right!" Yoongi bursts into the room, his arms flailing in exasperation. His façade that he tries to keep every time he's around anyone falls and disembellishes into pure annoyance and anger against his parents. And he finds himself ranting, venting out to a stranger he's just met. And Hoseok listens gladly, nodding every once in a while to show he's still listening. Yoongi doesn't realise he has so much to talk about until Hoseok finally speaks as well, agreeing with Yoongi that yes, it is wrong to do that to a child, yes, it isn't right to neglect your own flesh and blood. And suddenly, rants turn into discussions, discussions turn into deep talks, and deep talks turn into morning sunlight as the next day rolls in through the windows.
They never get to look through the old book from Paris, they never get to fingure out what the locket actually is. But in the future, they'll come back to it for sure. For now, they'll enjoy each other's shoulders to cry on.