Appetence (2PM/Harry Potter crossover: 1/2)
Fic Title: Appetence
Group: 2PM (2PM/Harry Potter crossover, feat. Jay Park)
Rating: PG
Pairing(s)/Focus: Junho-centric, (Taecyeon/Junho, Chansung/Wooyoung)
Length: ~12,000 words
Summary: Junho wakes up as Harry Potter.
Warnings: language, some references to alcohol
Notes: Written for kpop-ficmix; originally posted here. A remix of chanyeolanda’s Voldy Baby- The Parselmouths.
This fic is set in what the Harry Potter fandom often refers as the Eighth Year: the war against Voldemort is over, and some of the students that would have finished their studies in the Seventh Year return to Hogwarts. I’d say you do not have to be a HP fan to read this. If, however, you’re a HP fanatic, just let me warn you that I took some liberties with details according to what I wanted for this.
~*~
Appetence
~*~
“Come on, mate, we’re gonna be late for class!”
A shove to the shoulder made Junho roll on his back. He would have hit his head if it weren’t for somebody - probably the same guy who had woken him up - grabbing him by his robes to pull him away from the fireplace.
“Bloody hell, Harry!” The voice sounded much closer now, but Junho didn’t understand why he was being yelled at when his name was not-- “How much did you blokes drink last night? This is getting out of hand. Hermione will not be pleased...”
Junho forced himself to open his eyes and focus despite the pounding in his head. The voice was still talking, and it belonged to a ginger-haired boy that looked familiar, but he couldn’t pinpoint from where yet. “Who are you?” he moved back and did hit his head this time, wincing in pain as he tried to recognize his surroundings.
There was so much red. The large sofa and the two matching armchairs to his right were a deep crimson that matched the lighter shade of the walls, covered with richly framed paintings of-- moving pictures? He found himself gaping as his hazy brain started connecting things, and the red hair--
He was looking at Junho with something akin to suspicion in his eye, though he also looked a little worried. His voice carried more of the latter. “Are you okay, Harry?”
“Why are you calling me Harry?” Junho asked, as calmly as he could. He wanted to laugh but he also wanted to run around and find a broom and fly, because if he was in Harry Potter dreamland--
“What else would I call you? Potter? The Chosen One? The Boy-Who-Lived?”
“Wait, wait--” Junho felt his lips tug up, but apparently that was the wrong reaction because Ron looked mildly offended. Ron. Ronald Weasley. “Ron?” he tried, mustering up his best I’m-hangover-can’t-think-properly face. Junho didn’t have much experience exhibiting one, but he had seen it enough on his friends’ faces to pull one of his own. And his head did feel like he had drunk a lot the previous night.
The ginger-haired, freckled boy nodded, looking at him as if he were stupid. Maybe he was as befuddled by his - Harry’s - behaviour as Junho felt about whatever was going on. “Yeah?”
“Um. My name is Junho,” he said, and felt his ears go red.
Ron scoffed. “Harry, you’ve never liked being called by your father’s name, but ever since you and those--”
“My father?”
“For Merlin’s sake, you didn’t hit your head that hard! Or did you just come back? What did you blokes do last night?”
What indeed? Was he dreaming, or was he high? Junho wanted to snort at both notions. This felt too real for either, but he really didn’t remember anything. Maybe the preparations for their comeback had finally made him go crazy and it was all in his head, so for now he decided to just play along. “So, I wasn’t with you and... Hermione... last night?”
Ron flushed. He coughed, recovering faster than Junho expected. “You were with the Puffy Gang.”
“Puffy... gang...” Junho bit his lower lip. Ron didn’t seem to like whatever this group represented or maybe who was in it, so he had better not laugh. He wondered if that was how they called themselves, or if it was a sign of resentment on Ron’s part. Junho had no doubt it could be the real name if Minjun had anything to do with it, though. He wouldn’t listen to anyone telling him that Puffy did not stand for a Bro Expression if he decided otherwise.
“Look, I’ve already had breakfast, so you just need to-- Hermione, thank Merlin you’re up!” Ron turned a little too eagerly to the girl that just came into the room, her once bushy hair tamed into neat waves that fell to her shoulders. Junho’s hands went to his own hair by reflex, and he found the locks to be as messy and curly as one would expect of Harry Potter.
“I’ve been up for an hour already, Ron,” Hermione said matter-of-factly, looking pointedly at the door through which she just walked. “I waited for you at the Great Hall, but since you took too long, I had breakfast with Ginny--” she stopped abruptly, and cleared her throat. Junho guessed the tension in the air had something to do with Ginny and Harry, and he wondered if he was supposed to be sad, confused, angry, or if he could just settle for what he hoped was an unreadable look. “You look terrible, Harry,” she said, almost fondly, but there was some reproach in her voice that became more clear as she spoke. “Herbology starts in ten minutes,” Junho felt something in his hair and barely caught sight of Hermione pocketing her wand before she nodded in approval at what he supposed was a Flattening Spell. It tingled slightly. “You better hurry, wash up, and get something to eat while Ron and I deal with Professor Sprout.”
Junho wondered if she was always this patronizing, but not for long. At least his memories of the Harry Potter movies seemed to help. Ron shrugged as if to say they’d talk later, apparently reassured now that Hermione had checked up on their best friend - kind of. Junho was a little relieved when they left, but that also did not last a minute.
He was alone in the Gryffindor Common Room. He was... Harry Potter?
He laughed out loud.
Then he stopped. Frowned. Almost panicked.
What was he going to do now?
~*~
Junho thought the icy cold water would wake him up, but of course it couldn’t be that easy. He was still - here. In... Hogwarts? Or else. The mirror told him a number of things that sustained what he had come across so far. There was a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead, and it only turned red when he tried to rub it off. He could feel the dip in his skin; it was real. Magically real, he thought, and then laughed at himself, ignoring the edge of despair in the sound that echoed in the immense, tiled bathroom. He hoped there would be no surprising visitors here; no ghosts, and then he found himself wondering which movie this was, that is, if there was any real logic behind what was happening.
He was wearing Hogwarts robes, his scarf and tie both striped in crimson and gold, the Gryffindor colors. There was a wand in his pocket, he could feel it, but he both dreaded and longed to touch it. If he really was Harry Potter - he wanted to laugh again, but there was a tiny bubble at the back of his throat that threatened to explode, so he held it back. If he was Harry Potter, he could do magic.
“Magic,” he whispered, shaking his head in puzzlement, and then disbelief.
If he could indeed use magic, he could make wonders, or cause a disaster.
“But how did I end up here?” he wondered aloud, drying his face. He tried to recall the last thing he did before going to bed--
His head started pounding again. It was not just the hangover; a searing pain shot through him, so intense he felt dizzy and had to hold onto the sink not to fall. He gasped, knowing he should keep his face relaxed but it was almost impossible to bear it-- He’d need a Soothing Potion--
It stopped just as suddenly as it had started. Junho braced himself, the relief almost bringing him to his knees as well. He blinked repeatedly, only letting go of the sink when he felt he could stand up without swaying.
He stared at the mirror, at the scar that marked his otherwise familiar face. Pale skin, the once round cheekbones that had thinned but still stood out when he laughed, sharp jaw and full lips he had always been proud of. Smiling eyes, the fame which didn’t always reflect what was in them as much as the shape they made. Small eyes. He looked and found the stealth in them. He nodded, raking his fingers through the blond curls which Hermione had settled with a nonverbal spell that he would have to learn if he were to go through this for another day. It was just morning, but Junho felt the bubble dissolving into something pleasantly cool that tug at his insides.
He was excited, and this, whatever it was, could be good.
~*~
The Great Hall was almost empty by the time he got there, not so assured anymore. He had got lost in the corridors of the castle, been mislead by some of the moving stairs. He had panicked, blessed and damned the seemingly empty corridors as all students were supposed to be in class right now. Crossing his arms in front of his chest in frustration didn’t help, or at least it shouldn’t, but that was how he found out he had the Marauder’s Map in one of his pockets. At first, he feared the paper might be ripped to pieces or burst into flames if he dared touch it, but he soon recalled the words and made the ink come to life despite his shaking hands. He was amazed it had worked at all, as amazed by the fact that he was holding Harry Potter’s wand and doing magic with it, and chanting words to do with mischief, and then his name appeared on the parchment and he smiled giddily at it.
Well, it was not his real name, but - Harry Junho Potter didn’t sound so bad. At least that’s what he hoped the J. stood for, if that was what Ron meant earlier.
Now, he had to take a deep breath and fight the will to gape at the food that seemed to go on forever as piles on the long tables that occupied most of the room. Then he realized he didn’t know where to sit, which table belonged to which House - was he even allowed to sit and have breakfast or was it too late?
“Herbology class, man!” Someone took him by the arm and tried to lead him away from a tray of what looked like vanilla scones before Junho could even decide that’s what he wanted to eat first.
Junho turned around and stood speechless at the sight of a nineteen-year-old Wooyoung, or at least that’s how old he looked then, as if cut out of Junho’s debut memories. He was wearing a black and yellow tie, so he was in... Hufflepuff?
“Wooyoung...?” he tried, hoping the other’s approach meant more than just a nagging classmate fetching him.
“Yeah? You okay, Junho ya?” he was smiling, half assessing half teasing, and Junho recalled something else Ron had said.
“I guess... I’m still under the influence...” he concealed the questioning tone in his voice, or tried to. Wooyoung snorted, though he also flushed, leaving Junho to wonder what that was about.
“Come on,” Wooyoung threw an arm around his shoulders, and Junho let himself be guided, ignoring the protests of his empty stomach. He had gone a whole day with just a lollipop when he was dieting for concerts, he could eat later. “You had two shots of Firewhiskey and passed out! We had to drag you to the Gryffindor Tower. Well, Jay used a weightless charm, but the Fat Lady wasn’t too pleased when you couldn’t remember the password. Somehow Chansung got it, though.”
Wooyoung turned to face him, because Junho had stopped dead in his tracks at hearing Jay’s name - Jaebum, and Wooyoung talking about him like he used to, with fondness and admiration and respect for the hyung that had once been their leader. It was too much for Junho to take at once, reality or not.
“What... what happened last night?” he asked, to Wooyoung but also to nobody in particular, for he was trying and failing at recalling what had been going on before - before he got here? Could he remember the Firewhiskey, Jay, Chansung, if he couldn’t remember what should come easier to him than what was just a fantasy world?
Wooyoung’s cheeks had turned red again, and Junho frowned even as his heart warmed at the sight of this younger, different, world unchanged, Wooyoung. All that blushing was uncanny though, unless something specific had happened. Even in the earlier days, Wooyoung was not so easily embarrassed. Actually, to Junho he had sometimes seemed more spontaneously wild and less self-conscious than he did now.
“Do you remember anything?” Wooyoung asked, looking at his eyes now, almost worried yet a little... skeptical. When Junho just shook his head, he sighed, but took him by the arm and kept leading them out of the castle.
“OhmygoditsFREEZING!” Junho exclaimed as soon as the cutting air hit his face, hugging his arms even as he felt something warm cover his head and then his hands. He looked down to see gloves, and he suspected what he felt over his hair was a woolen beanie. The extra warmth came from a spell, but all things were Wooyoung’s doing.
Wooyoung, who was rolling his eyes at Junho. “You always forget to put on those, but at least it got me to perfect this Conjuring Charm.” He paused, and smiled suddenly. “Remember that time I tried it and the hat got all tangled up in your hair?”
Junho nodded even though he had no idea what that was about. He could imagine it, somehow, and that worked at making him smile back at Wooyoung. “Thanks, mate.”
Wooyoung snorted once more.
“What is it?” Junho asked, genuinely curious.
“‘Mate.’ That’s how Weasley calls you.”
“And... that’s funny because... you and I are part of the Puffy Gang...?”
Wooyoung gave him that assessing look again. Then he shook his head, and mumbled, almost to himself, “I guess Jay put something in that Firewhiskey... you’re acting weird, and I... again...”
“What’s that, Woodongie?” Junho ventured, cocking his head as if to peek at him from below. Wooyoung shoved him away like Junho expected him to, an amused smile breaking easily between them. “Did you do something dirty last night? And again? Ohhh you’re blushing!”
“Shut up, you prick,” but Wooyoung still sounded amused. If Junho had more of Minjun in him, he might have pulled at his cheeks then. He didn’t think this version of Wooyoung would appreciate that any better, though. “You know what this is about.”
Junho stopped - they were lucky the layer of snow that covered the ground was thin and didn’t make it unbearably cold to just stand there. However, they were still too far from the greenhouse where he supposed the class would take place, that is, if the lesson were still going on by the time he got there. What concerned him more right now was how abashed Wooyoung looked. “I really...” he paused, but there was nothing else he could think of except what he was going to say. “I really don’t know what this is about, Wooyoung.”
The other looked ready to dismiss his words as a bait - for it could have been one, Junho wouldn’t deny he would have faked ignorance just to get at Wooyoung if he did know what had happened and just wanted to tease him a little, but it was not the case. Wooyoung must have believed that, the look in Junho’s eyes as honest as he could make it.
“I had too much Firewhiskey,” Wooyoung said, as if that were his defense, and Junho nodded to show he was listening. “Jay let you have more than usual because we thought you would get crazy too, but you just fell asleep again,” he sounded slightly exasperated, and Junho refrained from asking if two shots were more than he usually had or if Wooyoung had been mistaken when he first mentioned this. “Anyway, as usual, after that we continued drinking and I tried another of those... changing charms... and this time Chansung asked for a schoolgirl uniform, and I didn’t really want to, but--”
“Chansung--” Junho interrupted himself, more willing to hear the rest of the story than he was to scream at Wooyoung to stop so he could roar at the absurdity of what he was hearing.
“But I was drunk, okay, I had like ten or twelve of those damn shots, I don’t know how many bottles Jay brought this time, and then I-- danced and Jay pretended to be Voldemort wearing pink pajamas but he was fighting Chansung because they both wanted the school girl--”
“Which was you,” Junho had to chime in, and Wooyoung just ignored him, rushing on.
“And Chansung won because he always wins, I guess Jay lets him because he knows, he, Chansung I mean, and...”
“...and the Knight in Charming Armor kisses the Beautiful Princess after saving her from the Evil Queen?”
Wooyoung glared at him. “I hate when you use Muggle references to guess things, so I have to think about them and then it’s too late to deny it.”
Junho’s jaw dropped. He didn’t try to avoid it this time.
Wooyoung seemed about to ask what that was about, but then he shut his mouth and flushed once more.
“So... you and Chansung...”
“Shut up, okay.”
“And it was not the first time...”
“I said, shut up.”
Junho did, but only because he did not want to risk going too far with Wooyoung, lest he lose the one friend he knew he could rely on right now.
~*~
The Herbology class included students from all Houses, but not all of them were there, considering this was the second year where classes were divided according to what they had chosen for their N.E.W.T. exams. Junho didn’t remember what the acronym stood for but he dismissed it, focusing on the other information his group of friends gave him unknowingly. The so-called Puffy Gang, as he realized, was led by Jay, who was in Slytherin House, and included Wooyoung and Chansung, both Hufflepuffs, and Junho as the Gryffindor representative. He wondered where the Old Boy Team fit in this picture, and if they would show up at all, or at least be mentioned.
The four of them, or rather, the other three were discussing what sounded like a plan to rob one of the plants on which they were working in class. Junho had to try and not sound too alarmed by the idea when he asked, softly, “What do you need it for?”
“Dude, are you even paying attention?” Jay - twenty-year-old looking, baby-faced, strong-built Jay - slapped at the back of Junho’s head in a way that brought too many memories for it to hurt, although he hadn’t hit hard at all. It was a bro thing. An old thing. Junho felt numb instead.
“Let him be, hyung,” said Chansung, and Junho had to keep repressing the will to laugh at his bun whenever he looked at the maknae. He was so young, his smile so refreshing, all big eyes and big nose and big limbs, Junho ended up smiling, missing him, missing all of them. “I’ll explain it to him again later, after Potions.”
“We’ll need to be extra careful there,” said Wooyoung, as he prepared a pot with special earth where Chomping Cabbage would be planted. Junho had jokingly asked if that could be used to make kimchi, but only Chansung chuckled at him then.
“Are we also getting something from the Potions lab?” he asked, getting a warning look from Jay and a sigh from Wooyoung.
“This is Chomping Cabbage, Junho ya. You do remember what it does, right?”
Junho hesitated, but shook his head. As frustrating as it was, it seemed better to have the others explain things to him as much as they seemed obvious or as if it were the thousandth time, than to remain in oblivion. Jay only got impatient when Junho forgot to keep a low voice as they discussed things. Wooyoung’s initial complaint was no news to Junho, as long as the other eventually explained things to him, and Chansung was the most calm, unfazed by what could be considered a temporary memory loss on Junho’s part.
The youngest one told him, then, that the Chomping Cabbage was used to chomp on other food, and was thus used in Potions when you needed to mince ingredients a certain way or use the mixed spit that the Chomping Cabbage would produce after ejecting the remains. Since they needed a grown one for the Secret Potion they would make - again, not in class, Junho - they would have to get one from Professor Sprout’s garden. The problem was keeping a Chomping Cabbage hidden in Potions class, for the cut plant started salivating and smelling when not fed. Most students wouldn’t notice but an experienced Master such as Professor Slughorn might not miss it. Despite all that clarification, Chansung refused to tell him what they needed the plant for until after their morning classes were over, maybe for fear that they might be overheard, or that Jay would smack them.
~*~
Nichkhun was in Ravenclaw. The discovery did not surprise Junho, though he had to wonder if the Sorting Hat had also offered another possibility to the Thai. He could picture him in other Houses, just as he could himself and the remaining members of “the gang.” Nichkhun was also Head Boy, and contrary to the Golden Trio he had already completed his Seventh Year for he had not left the school during the war. He was one of the Dumbledore’s Army members who had helped protect students against Death Eaters, and he had fought during the Battle of Hogwarts. It was his second consecutive year as Head Boy, and most students didn’t mind or even appreciated that. There had not been time for him to become a stranger to anyone after he graduated because he soon came back to work as a Potions apprentice
Chansung gave all those details to Junho more spontaneously than before, so maybe he had not been expected to know all that. In fact, while Chansung helped Jay select ingredients, their hyung advised Junho to be extra careful around Nichkhun, because he had the keen eyes that Slughorn sometimes lacked. For all his experience, youth and wit could still be more advantageous at sensing schemes. There seemed to be something else there, but Junho was not so familiar with Jay, not anymore, not yet, to get what it was.
The Chomping Cabbage had been shrunk and was hidden in one of Junho’s pockets, and he could feel the smell, which was rather unpleasant. They had been grouped in trios, and the only criteria the Professor had imposed was to have one student from each House, as the Potion they would learn required different skills. Junho did not think he would be useful at all, but he also recalled that Harry himself was terrible at Potions, so that prevented what could have been a panic attack in case he caused a disaster. Not that there wouldn’t be one, anyway, if somebody discovered that he had a stolen plant with him.
“Breathe, Nuneo,” Chansung said, without looking up at him. He was checking their list of ingredients while Jay used his wand to cut seven spider legs into perfectly equal pieces.
“It stinks,” Junho mumbled.
Jay made a farting noise so loud some students laughed, while others turned to glare at them for the interruption. “Oh come on, we’re all just sorting ingredients,” he said, which only served to turn their Professor’s attention to them.
Chansung froze for a second, and Junho looked at them in distress, only to feel a kick at his shin that told him to act natural. He had to bite back a curse instead, and his ears were betraying him.
“Are you quite alright, Mr. Potter?” Slughorn approached their table with a stern expression that he fixed on Jay even as he talked to Junho. He only turned to the latter after two or three seconds in which Jay smiled apologetically, hard to fool anyone.
“Excuse me, Professor, but I think he’s not very well.” It was Hermione, who came to Junho’s side and put a hand on his arm. “He didn’t have breakfast and I think he just...” She trailed off, and Junho was mortified at what she was implying.
Professor Slughorn wrinkled his nose at him, but tried to cover it up by turning to their cauldron, which was still unheated, something that did call for a reprimand. “Mr. Potter, I think you might need to see Madam Pomfrey.”
“But... I...”
Hermione squeezed his arm with urgency, so Junho shut up immediately and nodded, letting her drag him out of the classroom. He could feel the others’ eyes on them, Ron and Jay and Wooyoung and Nichkhun, but Hermione kept a steady pace until they were away from the dungeons. Then she turned a corner, cast what Junho supposed was a Private Charm, and frowned at him.
“What are you boys up to?” Junho opened his mouth, but she raised her hand before he could speak. “You’re a terrible liar, Harry, so don’t even try.” She paused, looked at him, but then a sigh escaped her as if she had been holding it back for a long time. “Harry, I know it’s been really hard on you, and I understand you’re trying to catch up on the little time you’ve still got before becoming an adult... but does it have to be like this? All the parties, and the pranks, and risk getting detention for things you don’t even know?” She exhibited the shrunk Chomping Cabbage, and Junho’s eyes must have turned to sauces then, for her somewhat annoyed sigh didn’t conceal how proud she felt at being able to get that from him unnoticed.
Junho suspected her silence meant he should say something, but he was at a loss. He stood there awkwardly, and scratched at his nose, where Harry’s glasses would have rested. “Where are my glasses?” he heard himself saying out loud. Hermione looked torn between scolding him for evading the subject and asking him what the hell was going on. In the end, she settled for a patient smile.
“I thought you were wearing lenses?”
Junho almost denied it, but then it would only be one more thing to explain, so he just nodded. “So... are you giving that back to me?” he looked at Hermione’s right fist, where he hoped the green vegetable still was. She let out a heavy breath before opening it up and letting him have it. “Thanks, ‘Mione,” he said, smiling brightly at her. She seemed momentarily surprised, but eased back into a small grin of her own, though she frowned once more.
“Just try to stay out of trouble, okay?”
Junho shrugged. “Trouble always finds me.”
Hermione tried not to, but she still giggled. “Oh, Harry. Just-- Listen, you know you can count on me, right?” He nodded, and it wasn’t forced. “Good. If you need anything, I’ll be here, okay? Ron, too. We miss you, y’know.”
Junho wondered if it was possible to miss somebody while living in the same house as them - even if it was a Hogwarts House. His guts told him he knew the answer to that, but when he tried to remember, his head started spinning.
“Harry!”
~*~
“I don’t understand why you’re wasting time on him.”
“Shut up, man. You jelly?”
“You shut up.”
“Ha, ha. You know, man, if you two just talked...”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Yeah, yeah, just as there’s no reason for you to be so worked up that I’m still spending time with him ‘cause you’re too much of a chicken to step up. Am I right?”
Step, step, step. Pause. Turning heels. Step, step, step. Pause. Sigh. “He doesn’t remember.”
“I told you, you won’t know until you talk to him.”
“He doesn’t. He would have talked to me if he knew. He would.”
“What if he’s just afraid of talking to you, as much as you are of talking to him?”
“I’m not. Stop making that face, you look like a stupid clown.”
“‘s not me you should be appreciating. You know what? I think you oughta try at least... to expose that, y’know. That. Y’know. Just to see what happens.”
Sigh. Step. Breathe. Sigh. “It’s... it’s ugly, Jay.”
“Ain’t see you covering up your face no matter how ugly ‘tis.”
“Tsk. I’ll just... Tell me if he gets any worse, okay?”
“Look at you, worried sick because Wonder Boy here got a little airheaded.”
“Shut up.”
Silence.
~*~
The first thing Junho saw when he came to was a scone, the smell of which had probably helped him wake up. He smiled and reached for it, humming as he bit into the creamy stuffing and the expected vanilla flavor filled his mouth.
“Good to see you’re up, Mr. Potter.”
He almost spat all over the sheets as he looked to the owner of that stern voice and, sure enough, Minerva McGonagall, the Professor turned Headmistress, was standing a few meters away from him. It seemed she had been talking to Nurse Pomfrey, but the latter nodded at him with a smile before withdrawing. The Headmistress walked to his bed and looked at the scone in his hands, not smiling but with a glint in her eyes that told him he could and should keep eating. Junho feared he would choke while trying to swallow through that first bite that he had already had, but he managed to do it, and then took another, smaller bite, aware of Professor McGonagall’s eyes fixed on him. After he had eaten half of it, she nodded, as if appeased.
“Food is important, Mr. Potter. One finds it difficult to concentrate in class on an empty stomach.”
Junho swallowed hard, and nodded meekly. He felt more chastised than if it were his own mother talking to him.
“However, this morning must have been confusing for you.” She arched an eyebrow, as if he would challenge her statement. Junho was simply terrified at the idea that she might know he was not the actual Harry Potter, all thoughts of drunken nights with Hufflepuffs and Slytherins gone from his mind. How could he explain who he was in a believable way, when he barely understood what was going on himself? “I suppose you still remember how to use a Pensieve?”
Junho made sure he was absolutely certain of what that was, and only then acquiesced. The Headmistress’s gaze lingered on him for a second before she nodded, too.
“If you ever need it, Mr. Potter, don’t hesitate.”
She looked at him, a near smile on her lips before she turned, leaving him dumbfounded, way more confused than when he had first woken up that day. He did not have much time to recover from that or mull over her words, though, for the infirmary was soon filled with the gang, and Ron and Hermione, and Neville and Ginny, who came hand in hand, the latter fierce while the former tried not to look too nervous while still putting on a brave front. Junho smiled at them both; that story was definitely not his own, so he did not feel uncomfortable at all, or guilty, or anything else he might have if he were actually in Harry’s shoes, instead of just-- Well, in his place. He was still in his own body, thank you very much.
“It’s a pity you’ll miss History of Magic,” Jay shook his head, a fake, grave look on his features. Junho rolled his eyes, and he thought he caught Hermione concealing a laugh, while Ron actually grinned.
“He sure is in a much more comfy place to sleep,” Wooyoung added, and then handed another scone to Junho, along with a glass of pumpkin juice.
“Do you want us to bring you anything from lunch?” Chansung asked, and Junho shook his head, indicating what was his third or fourth scone already. “I’m talking about real food, Nuneo.”
“Hey, you bet he’s enjoying this!” said Wooyoung, who had gone to the kitchens just to get the scones for which he had seen his friend drooling that morning.
“I am,” Junho said, smiling at Wooyoung before turning to Chansung. “But I’d still like you to bring me something, Channie.”
Chansung shook his head teasingly at Wooyoung, who just grimaced in turn.
“Now kiss,” said Jay, cackling even as Wooyoung turned to hit furiously at him.
~*~
Junho didn’t think he needed to stay so long in the hospital wing, but he couldn’t argue with Madam Pomfrey, who threatened to give him a Sleeping Draught if he tried to get out of bed before she discharged him. The evening was well on by the time that happened, and he wondered where he should go first. He did not know the password for the Gryffindor Tower, though he also wouldn’t have much to do there, unless Ron or Hermione were around. Not that talking to them would be easy, considering he didn’t really know what had happened to make him apparently distant from them. He assumed it had something to do with Ginny and their obvious breakup, but that had happened before he - came to this - this - fantasy world, he decided. He could keep calling it that and it wouldn’t make a difference whether he was dreaming, going crazy or something else. He was still intent on playing along until he got tired of this, and his curiosity still had the better of him right now.
He chose the Great Hall to see if dinner was already served. He had to check the Marauder’s Map to make sure he wouldn’t get lost this time, and even then he feared walking around with that precious roll of parchment in his hands where anyone could see. The war was over, but being Harry Potter in Hogwarts had never seemed like a completely safe situation.
The doors to the Great Hall were open but his appearance still caused heads to turn and a momentary, heavy silence took place as Junho walked in, map already tucked in one of his pockets. He tried not to bow or seem too flustered; people were staring because they thought he was their Savior, not because they could see he was a usurper, however accidental. At least he hoped they couldn’t.
As he approached the Gryffindor table and sat down next to Ron and across from Hermione, the students went back to their meals, and Junho released his breath, deflating for a second.
“You better, mate?” Ron was munching on a piece of sausage, on a plate of what Junho later found out was called Toad in the Hole, when Hermione offered him some.
Junho grinned at his ginger-haired companion. “Yeah. Thanks for asking.”
Ron mumbled something Junho could not quite catch because he had just stuffed his mouth with another bite, so Junho turned to Hermione. She was trying not to send her boyfriend a disgusted look, it seemed, but her face broke into a smile and she nodded at Junho.
“I’m happy you’re okay, and that you came to sit with us, Harry.”
Junho could have asked what she meant, but it was either obvious or something in which he really did not want to meddle, so he just nodded and smiled at her, turning his attention to the other dishes spread between them, and all around. He found out there was Dragon Tartare, some kind of chicken salad, sandwiches and fruit for the ones who did not want to eat much. He was hungry, though, so he set for a serving of Panino Pescadore, made with seafood. He ate it slowly and savored each bite, thinking he would gladly give up on dessert until Ron said something about a Treacle Tart that sounded too good to pass.
He was pleasantly satisfied and looking for familiar faces when he heard what seemed like Jay’s indignant voice coming from the Slytherin table. Junho spotted him easily, arguing with a much taller guy that wore the same silver and green scarf as he did. There was also an all green badge that caught Junho’s eye when the guy turned, as if knowing somebody was looking at him.
The teasing smile accompanied by a dimpled left cheek and piercing eyes made Junho start. “Taec,” he mumbled. He wanted to go there and talk to him, but once Jay noticed where Junho was looking, he got even more agitated, whereas Taecyeon remained calm, looking back and down at the older one as if amused by his display. “Is that...” He shook his head and looked at Hermione and Ron. “Do you guys know what’s going on?”
Ron followed his gaze and made a face, swallowing a piece of tart as if it had suddenly turned sour. “I thought we had moved on from Malfoy, mate.”
“Malfoy...” He paused, looked back at Taecyeon and then at Hermione. “Malfoy?”
“I know you’ve been calling him by his first name, Harry,” she said, as if that were a fact she had had to accept no matter how much she disliked it. “But don’t expect us to do the same, please.”
“Did you see what the bloody git’s wearing? So much for your courtesy,” said Ron, who had finally stopped eating to better observe the Slytherin table.
Junho frowned. He tried to get a better look at the badge, but before Taecyeon turned to look at him again, his memory of the movies got him. “Potter Stinks,” he said, not sure what to make of that, but apparently his weak reaction was the wrong one.
“You’re not angry? Not even a little?”
Junho shook his head at Ron, not as a denial, but because he was confused and he needed to think. If Taecyeon was a Malfoy, that meant they were... enemies? Or had things changed in this world? The badge said Taecyeon despised him, or at least liked to make fun of him. The latter would be no news in real life, either, but Taecyeon probably wouldn’t go that far. Except...
Junho was getting dizzy again, and he hated that. He forced himself to stay in the present. He needed to find out why Jay was so angry. The offensive message might be enough, but if both Jay and Taecyeon were in the same House, maybe they were friends. Junho got up, ignoring Hermione’s pleading look, and went as calmly as he could to the Slytherin table.
“Jay,” he called softly from behind his friend, his gaze locked on Taecyeon’s, whose smile had turned pleased yet derisive, surely a Malfoy fit.
“Oh shit,” the oldest yet shortest of them turned to look at Junho, his face going through so many changes at once that Junho’s interest was almost diverted to him instead. “Let me handle this, man. He’ll take that off in a beat.”
Junho shook his head once, and hoped Jay understood that was not what bothered him. Not really. “Taec,” he said, voice low but steady; making it clear the name was not foreign to his lips.
Taecyeon seemed taken aback by what was certainly an unexpected way of dealing with his provocation, but quickly recovered, sneering at him. “Came to make some Slytherins fall for your scent, Potter?”
A group of students who were sitting close-by sniggered, while others just watched, waiting for what would have usually been Harry’s temper rising until he snapped. They had that in common, Junho knew he would have risen to the bait way too easily, but this situation was different. The more befuddling it seemed, the more he wanted to understand it, and to do so he needed to keep his feelings at bay.
“I just want to talk to a friend,” Junho said, looking at Taecyeon, whose eyes widened for a second. Then Junho turned to Jay, and he hid his smile at knowing he had gotten Taecyeon’s attention when the other had hoped to catch his. “Have you eaten well, hyung?”
Jay frowned at him as if he had forgotten the meaning of that respectful word, but maybe they simply did not use formalities in the gang. It was a simple mistake, though, and fainting made up for enough panic attacks that Junho remained stable, no longer worrying so much about those things. “Yup, I’m done. You wanna talk?”
Junho nodded. Jay glanced at Taecyeon and they shared a look that Junho did not understand then, but it seemed to say, “later.”
~*~
[ Next]
Group: 2PM (2PM/Harry Potter crossover, feat. Jay Park)
Rating: PG
Pairing(s)/Focus: Junho-centric, (Taecyeon/Junho, Chansung/Wooyoung)
Length: ~12,000 words
Summary: Junho wakes up as Harry Potter.
Warnings: language, some references to alcohol
Notes: Written for kpop-ficmix; originally posted here. A remix of chanyeolanda’s Voldy Baby- The Parselmouths.
This fic is set in what the Harry Potter fandom often refers as the Eighth Year: the war against Voldemort is over, and some of the students that would have finished their studies in the Seventh Year return to Hogwarts. I’d say you do not have to be a HP fan to read this. If, however, you’re a HP fanatic, just let me warn you that I took some liberties with details according to what I wanted for this.
~*~
Appetence
~*~
“Come on, mate, we’re gonna be late for class!”
A shove to the shoulder made Junho roll on his back. He would have hit his head if it weren’t for somebody - probably the same guy who had woken him up - grabbing him by his robes to pull him away from the fireplace.
“Bloody hell, Harry!” The voice sounded much closer now, but Junho didn’t understand why he was being yelled at when his name was not-- “How much did you blokes drink last night? This is getting out of hand. Hermione will not be pleased...”
Junho forced himself to open his eyes and focus despite the pounding in his head. The voice was still talking, and it belonged to a ginger-haired boy that looked familiar, but he couldn’t pinpoint from where yet. “Who are you?” he moved back and did hit his head this time, wincing in pain as he tried to recognize his surroundings.
There was so much red. The large sofa and the two matching armchairs to his right were a deep crimson that matched the lighter shade of the walls, covered with richly framed paintings of-- moving pictures? He found himself gaping as his hazy brain started connecting things, and the red hair--
He was looking at Junho with something akin to suspicion in his eye, though he also looked a little worried. His voice carried more of the latter. “Are you okay, Harry?”
“Why are you calling me Harry?” Junho asked, as calmly as he could. He wanted to laugh but he also wanted to run around and find a broom and fly, because if he was in Harry Potter dreamland--
“What else would I call you? Potter? The Chosen One? The Boy-Who-Lived?”
“Wait, wait--” Junho felt his lips tug up, but apparently that was the wrong reaction because Ron looked mildly offended. Ron. Ronald Weasley. “Ron?” he tried, mustering up his best I’m-hangover-can’t-think-properly face. Junho didn’t have much experience exhibiting one, but he had seen it enough on his friends’ faces to pull one of his own. And his head did feel like he had drunk a lot the previous night.
The ginger-haired, freckled boy nodded, looking at him as if he were stupid. Maybe he was as befuddled by his - Harry’s - behaviour as Junho felt about whatever was going on. “Yeah?”
“Um. My name is Junho,” he said, and felt his ears go red.
Ron scoffed. “Harry, you’ve never liked being called by your father’s name, but ever since you and those--”
“My father?”
“For Merlin’s sake, you didn’t hit your head that hard! Or did you just come back? What did you blokes do last night?”
What indeed? Was he dreaming, or was he high? Junho wanted to snort at both notions. This felt too real for either, but he really didn’t remember anything. Maybe the preparations for their comeback had finally made him go crazy and it was all in his head, so for now he decided to just play along. “So, I wasn’t with you and... Hermione... last night?”
Ron flushed. He coughed, recovering faster than Junho expected. “You were with the Puffy Gang.”
“Puffy... gang...” Junho bit his lower lip. Ron didn’t seem to like whatever this group represented or maybe who was in it, so he had better not laugh. He wondered if that was how they called themselves, or if it was a sign of resentment on Ron’s part. Junho had no doubt it could be the real name if Minjun had anything to do with it, though. He wouldn’t listen to anyone telling him that Puffy did not stand for a Bro Expression if he decided otherwise.
“Look, I’ve already had breakfast, so you just need to-- Hermione, thank Merlin you’re up!” Ron turned a little too eagerly to the girl that just came into the room, her once bushy hair tamed into neat waves that fell to her shoulders. Junho’s hands went to his own hair by reflex, and he found the locks to be as messy and curly as one would expect of Harry Potter.
“I’ve been up for an hour already, Ron,” Hermione said matter-of-factly, looking pointedly at the door through which she just walked. “I waited for you at the Great Hall, but since you took too long, I had breakfast with Ginny--” she stopped abruptly, and cleared her throat. Junho guessed the tension in the air had something to do with Ginny and Harry, and he wondered if he was supposed to be sad, confused, angry, or if he could just settle for what he hoped was an unreadable look. “You look terrible, Harry,” she said, almost fondly, but there was some reproach in her voice that became more clear as she spoke. “Herbology starts in ten minutes,” Junho felt something in his hair and barely caught sight of Hermione pocketing her wand before she nodded in approval at what he supposed was a Flattening Spell. It tingled slightly. “You better hurry, wash up, and get something to eat while Ron and I deal with Professor Sprout.”
Junho wondered if she was always this patronizing, but not for long. At least his memories of the Harry Potter movies seemed to help. Ron shrugged as if to say they’d talk later, apparently reassured now that Hermione had checked up on their best friend - kind of. Junho was a little relieved when they left, but that also did not last a minute.
He was alone in the Gryffindor Common Room. He was... Harry Potter?
He laughed out loud.
Then he stopped. Frowned. Almost panicked.
What was he going to do now?
~*~
Junho thought the icy cold water would wake him up, but of course it couldn’t be that easy. He was still - here. In... Hogwarts? Or else. The mirror told him a number of things that sustained what he had come across so far. There was a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead, and it only turned red when he tried to rub it off. He could feel the dip in his skin; it was real. Magically real, he thought, and then laughed at himself, ignoring the edge of despair in the sound that echoed in the immense, tiled bathroom. He hoped there would be no surprising visitors here; no ghosts, and then he found himself wondering which movie this was, that is, if there was any real logic behind what was happening.
He was wearing Hogwarts robes, his scarf and tie both striped in crimson and gold, the Gryffindor colors. There was a wand in his pocket, he could feel it, but he both dreaded and longed to touch it. If he really was Harry Potter - he wanted to laugh again, but there was a tiny bubble at the back of his throat that threatened to explode, so he held it back. If he was Harry Potter, he could do magic.
“Magic,” he whispered, shaking his head in puzzlement, and then disbelief.
If he could indeed use magic, he could make wonders, or cause a disaster.
“But how did I end up here?” he wondered aloud, drying his face. He tried to recall the last thing he did before going to bed--
His head started pounding again. It was not just the hangover; a searing pain shot through him, so intense he felt dizzy and had to hold onto the sink not to fall. He gasped, knowing he should keep his face relaxed but it was almost impossible to bear it-- He’d need a Soothing Potion--
It stopped just as suddenly as it had started. Junho braced himself, the relief almost bringing him to his knees as well. He blinked repeatedly, only letting go of the sink when he felt he could stand up without swaying.
He stared at the mirror, at the scar that marked his otherwise familiar face. Pale skin, the once round cheekbones that had thinned but still stood out when he laughed, sharp jaw and full lips he had always been proud of. Smiling eyes, the fame which didn’t always reflect what was in them as much as the shape they made. Small eyes. He looked and found the stealth in them. He nodded, raking his fingers through the blond curls which Hermione had settled with a nonverbal spell that he would have to learn if he were to go through this for another day. It was just morning, but Junho felt the bubble dissolving into something pleasantly cool that tug at his insides.
He was excited, and this, whatever it was, could be good.
~*~
The Great Hall was almost empty by the time he got there, not so assured anymore. He had got lost in the corridors of the castle, been mislead by some of the moving stairs. He had panicked, blessed and damned the seemingly empty corridors as all students were supposed to be in class right now. Crossing his arms in front of his chest in frustration didn’t help, or at least it shouldn’t, but that was how he found out he had the Marauder’s Map in one of his pockets. At first, he feared the paper might be ripped to pieces or burst into flames if he dared touch it, but he soon recalled the words and made the ink come to life despite his shaking hands. He was amazed it had worked at all, as amazed by the fact that he was holding Harry Potter’s wand and doing magic with it, and chanting words to do with mischief, and then his name appeared on the parchment and he smiled giddily at it.
Well, it was not his real name, but - Harry Junho Potter didn’t sound so bad. At least that’s what he hoped the J. stood for, if that was what Ron meant earlier.
Now, he had to take a deep breath and fight the will to gape at the food that seemed to go on forever as piles on the long tables that occupied most of the room. Then he realized he didn’t know where to sit, which table belonged to which House - was he even allowed to sit and have breakfast or was it too late?
“Herbology class, man!” Someone took him by the arm and tried to lead him away from a tray of what looked like vanilla scones before Junho could even decide that’s what he wanted to eat first.
Junho turned around and stood speechless at the sight of a nineteen-year-old Wooyoung, or at least that’s how old he looked then, as if cut out of Junho’s debut memories. He was wearing a black and yellow tie, so he was in... Hufflepuff?
“Wooyoung...?” he tried, hoping the other’s approach meant more than just a nagging classmate fetching him.
“Yeah? You okay, Junho ya?” he was smiling, half assessing half teasing, and Junho recalled something else Ron had said.
“I guess... I’m still under the influence...” he concealed the questioning tone in his voice, or tried to. Wooyoung snorted, though he also flushed, leaving Junho to wonder what that was about.
“Come on,” Wooyoung threw an arm around his shoulders, and Junho let himself be guided, ignoring the protests of his empty stomach. He had gone a whole day with just a lollipop when he was dieting for concerts, he could eat later. “You had two shots of Firewhiskey and passed out! We had to drag you to the Gryffindor Tower. Well, Jay used a weightless charm, but the Fat Lady wasn’t too pleased when you couldn’t remember the password. Somehow Chansung got it, though.”
Wooyoung turned to face him, because Junho had stopped dead in his tracks at hearing Jay’s name - Jaebum, and Wooyoung talking about him like he used to, with fondness and admiration and respect for the hyung that had once been their leader. It was too much for Junho to take at once, reality or not.
“What... what happened last night?” he asked, to Wooyoung but also to nobody in particular, for he was trying and failing at recalling what had been going on before - before he got here? Could he remember the Firewhiskey, Jay, Chansung, if he couldn’t remember what should come easier to him than what was just a fantasy world?
Wooyoung’s cheeks had turned red again, and Junho frowned even as his heart warmed at the sight of this younger, different, world unchanged, Wooyoung. All that blushing was uncanny though, unless something specific had happened. Even in the earlier days, Wooyoung was not so easily embarrassed. Actually, to Junho he had sometimes seemed more spontaneously wild and less self-conscious than he did now.
“Do you remember anything?” Wooyoung asked, looking at his eyes now, almost worried yet a little... skeptical. When Junho just shook his head, he sighed, but took him by the arm and kept leading them out of the castle.
“OhmygoditsFREEZING!” Junho exclaimed as soon as the cutting air hit his face, hugging his arms even as he felt something warm cover his head and then his hands. He looked down to see gloves, and he suspected what he felt over his hair was a woolen beanie. The extra warmth came from a spell, but all things were Wooyoung’s doing.
Wooyoung, who was rolling his eyes at Junho. “You always forget to put on those, but at least it got me to perfect this Conjuring Charm.” He paused, and smiled suddenly. “Remember that time I tried it and the hat got all tangled up in your hair?”
Junho nodded even though he had no idea what that was about. He could imagine it, somehow, and that worked at making him smile back at Wooyoung. “Thanks, mate.”
Wooyoung snorted once more.
“What is it?” Junho asked, genuinely curious.
“‘Mate.’ That’s how Weasley calls you.”
“And... that’s funny because... you and I are part of the Puffy Gang...?”
Wooyoung gave him that assessing look again. Then he shook his head, and mumbled, almost to himself, “I guess Jay put something in that Firewhiskey... you’re acting weird, and I... again...”
“What’s that, Woodongie?” Junho ventured, cocking his head as if to peek at him from below. Wooyoung shoved him away like Junho expected him to, an amused smile breaking easily between them. “Did you do something dirty last night? And again? Ohhh you’re blushing!”
“Shut up, you prick,” but Wooyoung still sounded amused. If Junho had more of Minjun in him, he might have pulled at his cheeks then. He didn’t think this version of Wooyoung would appreciate that any better, though. “You know what this is about.”
Junho stopped - they were lucky the layer of snow that covered the ground was thin and didn’t make it unbearably cold to just stand there. However, they were still too far from the greenhouse where he supposed the class would take place, that is, if the lesson were still going on by the time he got there. What concerned him more right now was how abashed Wooyoung looked. “I really...” he paused, but there was nothing else he could think of except what he was going to say. “I really don’t know what this is about, Wooyoung.”
The other looked ready to dismiss his words as a bait - for it could have been one, Junho wouldn’t deny he would have faked ignorance just to get at Wooyoung if he did know what had happened and just wanted to tease him a little, but it was not the case. Wooyoung must have believed that, the look in Junho’s eyes as honest as he could make it.
“I had too much Firewhiskey,” Wooyoung said, as if that were his defense, and Junho nodded to show he was listening. “Jay let you have more than usual because we thought you would get crazy too, but you just fell asleep again,” he sounded slightly exasperated, and Junho refrained from asking if two shots were more than he usually had or if Wooyoung had been mistaken when he first mentioned this. “Anyway, as usual, after that we continued drinking and I tried another of those... changing charms... and this time Chansung asked for a schoolgirl uniform, and I didn’t really want to, but--”
“Chansung--” Junho interrupted himself, more willing to hear the rest of the story than he was to scream at Wooyoung to stop so he could roar at the absurdity of what he was hearing.
“But I was drunk, okay, I had like ten or twelve of those damn shots, I don’t know how many bottles Jay brought this time, and then I-- danced and Jay pretended to be Voldemort wearing pink pajamas but he was fighting Chansung because they both wanted the school girl--”
“Which was you,” Junho had to chime in, and Wooyoung just ignored him, rushing on.
“And Chansung won because he always wins, I guess Jay lets him because he knows, he, Chansung I mean, and...”
“...and the Knight in Charming Armor kisses the Beautiful Princess after saving her from the Evil Queen?”
Wooyoung glared at him. “I hate when you use Muggle references to guess things, so I have to think about them and then it’s too late to deny it.”
Junho’s jaw dropped. He didn’t try to avoid it this time.
Wooyoung seemed about to ask what that was about, but then he shut his mouth and flushed once more.
“So... you and Chansung...”
“Shut up, okay.”
“And it was not the first time...”
“I said, shut up.”
Junho did, but only because he did not want to risk going too far with Wooyoung, lest he lose the one friend he knew he could rely on right now.
~*~
The Herbology class included students from all Houses, but not all of them were there, considering this was the second year where classes were divided according to what they had chosen for their N.E.W.T. exams. Junho didn’t remember what the acronym stood for but he dismissed it, focusing on the other information his group of friends gave him unknowingly. The so-called Puffy Gang, as he realized, was led by Jay, who was in Slytherin House, and included Wooyoung and Chansung, both Hufflepuffs, and Junho as the Gryffindor representative. He wondered where the Old Boy Team fit in this picture, and if they would show up at all, or at least be mentioned.
The four of them, or rather, the other three were discussing what sounded like a plan to rob one of the plants on which they were working in class. Junho had to try and not sound too alarmed by the idea when he asked, softly, “What do you need it for?”
“Dude, are you even paying attention?” Jay - twenty-year-old looking, baby-faced, strong-built Jay - slapped at the back of Junho’s head in a way that brought too many memories for it to hurt, although he hadn’t hit hard at all. It was a bro thing. An old thing. Junho felt numb instead.
“Let him be, hyung,” said Chansung, and Junho had to keep repressing the will to laugh at his bun whenever he looked at the maknae. He was so young, his smile so refreshing, all big eyes and big nose and big limbs, Junho ended up smiling, missing him, missing all of them. “I’ll explain it to him again later, after Potions.”
“We’ll need to be extra careful there,” said Wooyoung, as he prepared a pot with special earth where Chomping Cabbage would be planted. Junho had jokingly asked if that could be used to make kimchi, but only Chansung chuckled at him then.
“Are we also getting something from the Potions lab?” he asked, getting a warning look from Jay and a sigh from Wooyoung.
“This is Chomping Cabbage, Junho ya. You do remember what it does, right?”
Junho hesitated, but shook his head. As frustrating as it was, it seemed better to have the others explain things to him as much as they seemed obvious or as if it were the thousandth time, than to remain in oblivion. Jay only got impatient when Junho forgot to keep a low voice as they discussed things. Wooyoung’s initial complaint was no news to Junho, as long as the other eventually explained things to him, and Chansung was the most calm, unfazed by what could be considered a temporary memory loss on Junho’s part.
The youngest one told him, then, that the Chomping Cabbage was used to chomp on other food, and was thus used in Potions when you needed to mince ingredients a certain way or use the mixed spit that the Chomping Cabbage would produce after ejecting the remains. Since they needed a grown one for the Secret Potion they would make - again, not in class, Junho - they would have to get one from Professor Sprout’s garden. The problem was keeping a Chomping Cabbage hidden in Potions class, for the cut plant started salivating and smelling when not fed. Most students wouldn’t notice but an experienced Master such as Professor Slughorn might not miss it. Despite all that clarification, Chansung refused to tell him what they needed the plant for until after their morning classes were over, maybe for fear that they might be overheard, or that Jay would smack them.
~*~
Nichkhun was in Ravenclaw. The discovery did not surprise Junho, though he had to wonder if the Sorting Hat had also offered another possibility to the Thai. He could picture him in other Houses, just as he could himself and the remaining members of “the gang.” Nichkhun was also Head Boy, and contrary to the Golden Trio he had already completed his Seventh Year for he had not left the school during the war. He was one of the Dumbledore’s Army members who had helped protect students against Death Eaters, and he had fought during the Battle of Hogwarts. It was his second consecutive year as Head Boy, and most students didn’t mind or even appreciated that. There had not been time for him to become a stranger to anyone after he graduated because he soon came back to work as a Potions apprentice
Chansung gave all those details to Junho more spontaneously than before, so maybe he had not been expected to know all that. In fact, while Chansung helped Jay select ingredients, their hyung advised Junho to be extra careful around Nichkhun, because he had the keen eyes that Slughorn sometimes lacked. For all his experience, youth and wit could still be more advantageous at sensing schemes. There seemed to be something else there, but Junho was not so familiar with Jay, not anymore, not yet, to get what it was.
The Chomping Cabbage had been shrunk and was hidden in one of Junho’s pockets, and he could feel the smell, which was rather unpleasant. They had been grouped in trios, and the only criteria the Professor had imposed was to have one student from each House, as the Potion they would learn required different skills. Junho did not think he would be useful at all, but he also recalled that Harry himself was terrible at Potions, so that prevented what could have been a panic attack in case he caused a disaster. Not that there wouldn’t be one, anyway, if somebody discovered that he had a stolen plant with him.
“Breathe, Nuneo,” Chansung said, without looking up at him. He was checking their list of ingredients while Jay used his wand to cut seven spider legs into perfectly equal pieces.
“It stinks,” Junho mumbled.
Jay made a farting noise so loud some students laughed, while others turned to glare at them for the interruption. “Oh come on, we’re all just sorting ingredients,” he said, which only served to turn their Professor’s attention to them.
Chansung froze for a second, and Junho looked at them in distress, only to feel a kick at his shin that told him to act natural. He had to bite back a curse instead, and his ears were betraying him.
“Are you quite alright, Mr. Potter?” Slughorn approached their table with a stern expression that he fixed on Jay even as he talked to Junho. He only turned to the latter after two or three seconds in which Jay smiled apologetically, hard to fool anyone.
“Excuse me, Professor, but I think he’s not very well.” It was Hermione, who came to Junho’s side and put a hand on his arm. “He didn’t have breakfast and I think he just...” She trailed off, and Junho was mortified at what she was implying.
Professor Slughorn wrinkled his nose at him, but tried to cover it up by turning to their cauldron, which was still unheated, something that did call for a reprimand. “Mr. Potter, I think you might need to see Madam Pomfrey.”
“But... I...”
Hermione squeezed his arm with urgency, so Junho shut up immediately and nodded, letting her drag him out of the classroom. He could feel the others’ eyes on them, Ron and Jay and Wooyoung and Nichkhun, but Hermione kept a steady pace until they were away from the dungeons. Then she turned a corner, cast what Junho supposed was a Private Charm, and frowned at him.
“What are you boys up to?” Junho opened his mouth, but she raised her hand before he could speak. “You’re a terrible liar, Harry, so don’t even try.” She paused, looked at him, but then a sigh escaped her as if she had been holding it back for a long time. “Harry, I know it’s been really hard on you, and I understand you’re trying to catch up on the little time you’ve still got before becoming an adult... but does it have to be like this? All the parties, and the pranks, and risk getting detention for things you don’t even know?” She exhibited the shrunk Chomping Cabbage, and Junho’s eyes must have turned to sauces then, for her somewhat annoyed sigh didn’t conceal how proud she felt at being able to get that from him unnoticed.
Junho suspected her silence meant he should say something, but he was at a loss. He stood there awkwardly, and scratched at his nose, where Harry’s glasses would have rested. “Where are my glasses?” he heard himself saying out loud. Hermione looked torn between scolding him for evading the subject and asking him what the hell was going on. In the end, she settled for a patient smile.
“I thought you were wearing lenses?”
Junho almost denied it, but then it would only be one more thing to explain, so he just nodded. “So... are you giving that back to me?” he looked at Hermione’s right fist, where he hoped the green vegetable still was. She let out a heavy breath before opening it up and letting him have it. “Thanks, ‘Mione,” he said, smiling brightly at her. She seemed momentarily surprised, but eased back into a small grin of her own, though she frowned once more.
“Just try to stay out of trouble, okay?”
Junho shrugged. “Trouble always finds me.”
Hermione tried not to, but she still giggled. “Oh, Harry. Just-- Listen, you know you can count on me, right?” He nodded, and it wasn’t forced. “Good. If you need anything, I’ll be here, okay? Ron, too. We miss you, y’know.”
Junho wondered if it was possible to miss somebody while living in the same house as them - even if it was a Hogwarts House. His guts told him he knew the answer to that, but when he tried to remember, his head started spinning.
“Harry!”
~*~
“I don’t understand why you’re wasting time on him.”
“Shut up, man. You jelly?”
“You shut up.”
“Ha, ha. You know, man, if you two just talked...”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Yeah, yeah, just as there’s no reason for you to be so worked up that I’m still spending time with him ‘cause you’re too much of a chicken to step up. Am I right?”
Step, step, step. Pause. Turning heels. Step, step, step. Pause. Sigh. “He doesn’t remember.”
“I told you, you won’t know until you talk to him.”
“He doesn’t. He would have talked to me if he knew. He would.”
“What if he’s just afraid of talking to you, as much as you are of talking to him?”
“I’m not. Stop making that face, you look like a stupid clown.”
“‘s not me you should be appreciating. You know what? I think you oughta try at least... to expose that, y’know. That. Y’know. Just to see what happens.”
Sigh. Step. Breathe. Sigh. “It’s... it’s ugly, Jay.”
“Ain’t see you covering up your face no matter how ugly ‘tis.”
“Tsk. I’ll just... Tell me if he gets any worse, okay?”
“Look at you, worried sick because Wonder Boy here got a little airheaded.”
“Shut up.”
Silence.
~*~
The first thing Junho saw when he came to was a scone, the smell of which had probably helped him wake up. He smiled and reached for it, humming as he bit into the creamy stuffing and the expected vanilla flavor filled his mouth.
“Good to see you’re up, Mr. Potter.”
He almost spat all over the sheets as he looked to the owner of that stern voice and, sure enough, Minerva McGonagall, the Professor turned Headmistress, was standing a few meters away from him. It seemed she had been talking to Nurse Pomfrey, but the latter nodded at him with a smile before withdrawing. The Headmistress walked to his bed and looked at the scone in his hands, not smiling but with a glint in her eyes that told him he could and should keep eating. Junho feared he would choke while trying to swallow through that first bite that he had already had, but he managed to do it, and then took another, smaller bite, aware of Professor McGonagall’s eyes fixed on him. After he had eaten half of it, she nodded, as if appeased.
“Food is important, Mr. Potter. One finds it difficult to concentrate in class on an empty stomach.”
Junho swallowed hard, and nodded meekly. He felt more chastised than if it were his own mother talking to him.
“However, this morning must have been confusing for you.” She arched an eyebrow, as if he would challenge her statement. Junho was simply terrified at the idea that she might know he was not the actual Harry Potter, all thoughts of drunken nights with Hufflepuffs and Slytherins gone from his mind. How could he explain who he was in a believable way, when he barely understood what was going on himself? “I suppose you still remember how to use a Pensieve?”
Junho made sure he was absolutely certain of what that was, and only then acquiesced. The Headmistress’s gaze lingered on him for a second before she nodded, too.
“If you ever need it, Mr. Potter, don’t hesitate.”
She looked at him, a near smile on her lips before she turned, leaving him dumbfounded, way more confused than when he had first woken up that day. He did not have much time to recover from that or mull over her words, though, for the infirmary was soon filled with the gang, and Ron and Hermione, and Neville and Ginny, who came hand in hand, the latter fierce while the former tried not to look too nervous while still putting on a brave front. Junho smiled at them both; that story was definitely not his own, so he did not feel uncomfortable at all, or guilty, or anything else he might have if he were actually in Harry’s shoes, instead of just-- Well, in his place. He was still in his own body, thank you very much.
“It’s a pity you’ll miss History of Magic,” Jay shook his head, a fake, grave look on his features. Junho rolled his eyes, and he thought he caught Hermione concealing a laugh, while Ron actually grinned.
“He sure is in a much more comfy place to sleep,” Wooyoung added, and then handed another scone to Junho, along with a glass of pumpkin juice.
“Do you want us to bring you anything from lunch?” Chansung asked, and Junho shook his head, indicating what was his third or fourth scone already. “I’m talking about real food, Nuneo.”
“Hey, you bet he’s enjoying this!” said Wooyoung, who had gone to the kitchens just to get the scones for which he had seen his friend drooling that morning.
“I am,” Junho said, smiling at Wooyoung before turning to Chansung. “But I’d still like you to bring me something, Channie.”
Chansung shook his head teasingly at Wooyoung, who just grimaced in turn.
“Now kiss,” said Jay, cackling even as Wooyoung turned to hit furiously at him.
~*~
Junho didn’t think he needed to stay so long in the hospital wing, but he couldn’t argue with Madam Pomfrey, who threatened to give him a Sleeping Draught if he tried to get out of bed before she discharged him. The evening was well on by the time that happened, and he wondered where he should go first. He did not know the password for the Gryffindor Tower, though he also wouldn’t have much to do there, unless Ron or Hermione were around. Not that talking to them would be easy, considering he didn’t really know what had happened to make him apparently distant from them. He assumed it had something to do with Ginny and their obvious breakup, but that had happened before he - came to this - this - fantasy world, he decided. He could keep calling it that and it wouldn’t make a difference whether he was dreaming, going crazy or something else. He was still intent on playing along until he got tired of this, and his curiosity still had the better of him right now.
He chose the Great Hall to see if dinner was already served. He had to check the Marauder’s Map to make sure he wouldn’t get lost this time, and even then he feared walking around with that precious roll of parchment in his hands where anyone could see. The war was over, but being Harry Potter in Hogwarts had never seemed like a completely safe situation.
The doors to the Great Hall were open but his appearance still caused heads to turn and a momentary, heavy silence took place as Junho walked in, map already tucked in one of his pockets. He tried not to bow or seem too flustered; people were staring because they thought he was their Savior, not because they could see he was a usurper, however accidental. At least he hoped they couldn’t.
As he approached the Gryffindor table and sat down next to Ron and across from Hermione, the students went back to their meals, and Junho released his breath, deflating for a second.
“You better, mate?” Ron was munching on a piece of sausage, on a plate of what Junho later found out was called Toad in the Hole, when Hermione offered him some.
Junho grinned at his ginger-haired companion. “Yeah. Thanks for asking.”
Ron mumbled something Junho could not quite catch because he had just stuffed his mouth with another bite, so Junho turned to Hermione. She was trying not to send her boyfriend a disgusted look, it seemed, but her face broke into a smile and she nodded at Junho.
“I’m happy you’re okay, and that you came to sit with us, Harry.”
Junho could have asked what she meant, but it was either obvious or something in which he really did not want to meddle, so he just nodded and smiled at her, turning his attention to the other dishes spread between them, and all around. He found out there was Dragon Tartare, some kind of chicken salad, sandwiches and fruit for the ones who did not want to eat much. He was hungry, though, so he set for a serving of Panino Pescadore, made with seafood. He ate it slowly and savored each bite, thinking he would gladly give up on dessert until Ron said something about a Treacle Tart that sounded too good to pass.
He was pleasantly satisfied and looking for familiar faces when he heard what seemed like Jay’s indignant voice coming from the Slytherin table. Junho spotted him easily, arguing with a much taller guy that wore the same silver and green scarf as he did. There was also an all green badge that caught Junho’s eye when the guy turned, as if knowing somebody was looking at him.
The teasing smile accompanied by a dimpled left cheek and piercing eyes made Junho start. “Taec,” he mumbled. He wanted to go there and talk to him, but once Jay noticed where Junho was looking, he got even more agitated, whereas Taecyeon remained calm, looking back and down at the older one as if amused by his display. “Is that...” He shook his head and looked at Hermione and Ron. “Do you guys know what’s going on?”
Ron followed his gaze and made a face, swallowing a piece of tart as if it had suddenly turned sour. “I thought we had moved on from Malfoy, mate.”
“Malfoy...” He paused, looked back at Taecyeon and then at Hermione. “Malfoy?”
“I know you’ve been calling him by his first name, Harry,” she said, as if that were a fact she had had to accept no matter how much she disliked it. “But don’t expect us to do the same, please.”
“Did you see what the bloody git’s wearing? So much for your courtesy,” said Ron, who had finally stopped eating to better observe the Slytherin table.
Junho frowned. He tried to get a better look at the badge, but before Taecyeon turned to look at him again, his memory of the movies got him. “Potter Stinks,” he said, not sure what to make of that, but apparently his weak reaction was the wrong one.
“You’re not angry? Not even a little?”
Junho shook his head at Ron, not as a denial, but because he was confused and he needed to think. If Taecyeon was a Malfoy, that meant they were... enemies? Or had things changed in this world? The badge said Taecyeon despised him, or at least liked to make fun of him. The latter would be no news in real life, either, but Taecyeon probably wouldn’t go that far. Except...
Junho was getting dizzy again, and he hated that. He forced himself to stay in the present. He needed to find out why Jay was so angry. The offensive message might be enough, but if both Jay and Taecyeon were in the same House, maybe they were friends. Junho got up, ignoring Hermione’s pleading look, and went as calmly as he could to the Slytherin table.
“Jay,” he called softly from behind his friend, his gaze locked on Taecyeon’s, whose smile had turned pleased yet derisive, surely a Malfoy fit.
“Oh shit,” the oldest yet shortest of them turned to look at Junho, his face going through so many changes at once that Junho’s interest was almost diverted to him instead. “Let me handle this, man. He’ll take that off in a beat.”
Junho shook his head once, and hoped Jay understood that was not what bothered him. Not really. “Taec,” he said, voice low but steady; making it clear the name was not foreign to his lips.
Taecyeon seemed taken aback by what was certainly an unexpected way of dealing with his provocation, but quickly recovered, sneering at him. “Came to make some Slytherins fall for your scent, Potter?”
A group of students who were sitting close-by sniggered, while others just watched, waiting for what would have usually been Harry’s temper rising until he snapped. They had that in common, Junho knew he would have risen to the bait way too easily, but this situation was different. The more befuddling it seemed, the more he wanted to understand it, and to do so he needed to keep his feelings at bay.
“I just want to talk to a friend,” Junho said, looking at Taecyeon, whose eyes widened for a second. Then Junho turned to Jay, and he hid his smile at knowing he had gotten Taecyeon’s attention when the other had hoped to catch his. “Have you eaten well, hyung?”
Jay frowned at him as if he had forgotten the meaning of that respectful word, but maybe they simply did not use formalities in the gang. It was a simple mistake, though, and fainting made up for enough panic attacks that Junho remained stable, no longer worrying so much about those things. “Yup, I’m done. You wanna talk?”
Junho nodded. Jay glanced at Taecyeon and they shared a look that Junho did not understand then, but it seemed to say, “later.”
~*~
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