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gwoongi · 5 years

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𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 ☽ slytherin yoongi

𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 min yoongi / reader hogwarts au words: 4378

a/n: once again, the prompts were taken from this post :-) feel free to send requests (i am currently working on requests sent to me, thank u for all ur patience!) ((this fic features prompts 3, 4, 5, 6, 16, 17))

a/n 2: in this fic we give pansy parkinson redemption bc i love her and she deserves the sun and a man like jeongguk

Yoongi should have known that things were too good to be true when he was sorted into Slytherin alongside another fluently speaking British Korean, Jeon Jeongguk. Looking back on the ceremony, over six years ago now, it’s definitely too perfect to be realistic; and actually, now that he’s thinking about it, Professor Dumbledore looked way too happy to see two Koreans in the same year in the same house, sitting on the same bench eating from the same bowl of creamy mashed potato.

His family moving to Sussex when he was five was a risky move. Yoongi had no real friends in his town, if you didn’t count the next door neighbour’s ratty Yorkshire Terrier who always escaped his garden through the fences and regularly took a shit on their patio. Yoongi was never a social butterfly; he could be found sitting inside during break-time with a colouring book or a blank piece of paper, drawing and writing or otherwise just staring out the window at the other kids playing hopscotch on the playground. Honestly, he didn’t care about joining groups and being friends with people - Yoongi had expected to move back to Daegu for high-school, just like his family had planned. Then his Dad got some promotion that paid the bills and then Yoongi got his Hogwarts letter.

Now, Yoongi sits in the Slytherin Common Room, six years later, staring at Jeongguk with his arms folded and lower back rested against the back of the sofa, situated in front of the fire. He stares at Jeongguk with an unamused stare, blank like his notebooks for potions, one eyebrow cocked with disbelief.

“You’re sexiling me again?”

“Look, this is only until next weekend,” Jeongguk pleads, the eleven year old that Yoongi wanted to wrap in cotton wool on the Hogwarts Express threatening to jump out with big bug eyes. “Me and Parkinson are finally hitting it off.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Oh, right. I forgot you’re chasing after Malfoy’s sloppy seconds.”

“She deserves better than him,” Jeongguk frowns, and Yoongi looks closer and notices that Jeongguk is serious about this. He’s serious about Pansy Parkinson, and he should have known from the first time Jeongguk recited an essay probably titled, Why Pansy Parkinson Is Actually Really Nice, with bullet point number one being that Jeongguk found Pansy secretly tutoring three Hufflepuff first years in DADA, and discovered that Pansy bakes mint-chocolate cookies with the house elves at midnight, when nobody is around. Jeongguk personally finds it a shame that she wasted so much time trying to get Draco Malfoy’s attention when he very obviously always had eyes for a certain know-it-all Gryffindor, and as for Yoongi - well, he doesn’t really have an opinion.

“Anyway, it’s just for now,” Jeongguk continues, shaking his head as if getting rid of the thoughts. “I’m sorry - I know, I’m the worst.”

Yoongi just sighs, straightening up and looking at Jeongguk. “Whatever Guk. Let me get my jumper- you owe me, though. After tonight, you fucking owe me.”

When a wide smile spreads across Jeongguk’s face, Yoongi almost thinks that it’s worth it; he climbs the stairs to the sixth year’s bedroom and grabs his jumper, a gift from Jeongguk when he went to America last summer, and then hops back down into the Common Room, where he’s incredibly unsurprised to see Jeongguk already twisting his arms around the short black-haired girl.

Yoongi almost wants to smile; Jeongguk’s too sweet for Slytherin, with only his cool exterior and black clothing that makes him even remotely scary. He watches before heading out of the Common Room as Jeongguk wraps Pansy’s hair around her ear, revealing a helix piercing she got over Easter last year, and he nuzzles his nose into her cheek, eliciting a series of uncharacteristic giggles from the girl. Yoongi nods and walks away - they look good together, he thinks, and then he stops thinking when he leaves the Common Room at 9:15pm, realising he has nowhere to go.

Kim Seokjin was the Slytherin prefect, coincidentally on hallway duty when he sees Yoongi stumbling into the corridor near to the kitchens. Seokjin isn’t a snitch, unless it’s on other houses, and he pretends to look the other way when Yoongi heads down the corridor towards the house-elf who hurries across the hallway, waving at him with a familiar smile and beckoning him inside of the kitchen.

Now, not that Seokjin has ever gone out of his way to stalk Yoongi and map out his ideal evenings outside of the Common Room, but he’s pretty sure he has never seen Yoongi stalk the kitchen hallway, dangerously close to the Hufflepuff Common Room, whose door is directly inside the kitchen by the barrels of vinegar. But Seokjin shrugs instead of going to investigate, already on the hunt for other students whose names don’t start with Min and end with Yoongi.

Yoongi follows the elf into the kitchen, listening as they chatter about a lemon sponge they made in the morning that sits to cool in the cupboard above the sinks- which, although Yoongi is not a chef, he thinks is a weird place to store a cake. He notices the pale yellow jumper knitted around their body and he rolls his eyes, already knowing it’s the work of Miss Hermione Granger, who has also taken it upon herself to pin pamphlets for her saving elves club, or whatever, all around school. Yoongi recalls ripping one down from the Common Room after Malfoy stuck it there to be supportive; he has nothing against the elves, but he does have everything against Malfoy sticking Gryffindor propaganda around his Common Room, because god-damnit, Yoongi is older and he makes the rules of what can and can not be stuck on their corkboard.

He follows her further into the kitchen, bowing out of politeness as the rest of the staff rush around him. It occurs to him that nobody in this kitchen ever really has a day off to rest; either that, or Dumbledore hired about a million elves to man the kitchen, as six push past him to run into the adjoining kitchen where he smells cookie dough. The elves haven’t quite mastered the bow, and they stutter in movements around him trying to get away. Maybe they’re just not as polite in Scotland as they are in Korea, but again, it’s not as if he’s been back to Daegu since he moved to Sussex. He has his Dad and his Dad’s crazy skills to thank for that one.

“...and Winky must work! Miss Y/N, Winky needs to bake!”

Out of instinct, Yoongi ducks behind some empty shelves, looking like a right idiot as Winky, one of the elves, dashes towards another student in the kitchen. Yoongi glances upwards, noticing the student right away, and a breath of air is pushed out of his lungs. Winky tugs at the girl’s corduroy slacks with a small whimper.

“I won’t make a sound. It’ll be like I’m not even here,” the girl promises, patting Winky’s head and she stubbornly moves away. Yoongi already knows Winky is harmless and the girl is Winky’s friend, probably the only other student besides himself who Winky bakes extra batches for.

“You can’t just sit there all day,” Winky squeaks. “What if somebody comes in and sees that Winky is not working?”

“I will fight them,” the girl replies, jutting her chin out with defiance. “If they hurt you, I will beat them up. Okay?”

Winky nods for a moment before crying out with realisation, running backwards to hurry into the room where an explosion of flour bursts, and Yoongi winces with a hiss when an elf scurries past him and steps on the back of his ankle. His cover is now exposed; he leaps into view whilst glaring at the elf as they run away, and Yoongi looks towards the girl who stares back with a half amused expression, bringing a slice of sponge cake to her mouth and taking a bite.

“It’s a bit late for a slice of cake, L/N.”

You crack a smile, swallowing the dry cake. “Good thing I didn’t ask for your opinion, Min.” Despite the words, you part your legs and beckon him forward with the wave of your hand, bringing the plate and breaking a corner of the cake with a fork. “Say ah!”

Yoongi does not say “ah”, but opens his mouth for the bite. When he swallows, he looks back at you and scoffs when he notices a cheeky grin on your lips: “I’m not here to make friends.”

“Who said that?” you reply, nudging the plate away towards the sinks. “Nobody said that.”

“You’re so funny,” Yoongi says with a monotone voice, and you don’t even flinch when Yoongi positions himself between your legs, resting his hands on your hips, fingers feathering your waist and the skin shown from the cropped tee. In-fact, you lock him in place, hooking your ankles behind his back and bringing him closer, slightly dipping your head to capture his lips in a kiss.

At first it is light, almost as if it never even happened. Yoongi squints at you when you pull away, expecting more, and one hand moves from your waist to your cheek where he brings you back down for a second, this one much deeper.

Your relationship with Yoongi has always been confusing, and complicated, and most importantly, secret. Nobody at all knew what was going on between Yoongi and yourself; even better than that, nobody at all knew that Yoongi knew who you were. To some, the dynamic was even weirder than Granger and Malfoy, born rivals, born opposites, a lion and a snake. In this case, it was the snake and the badger, wriggling around in tight spaces around the castle, sharing kisses like last breaths.

Yoongi had always been fond of you, even when you stared at him with slight fear in first year when he tried to sit next to you in History of Magic. The emblem on your breast meant very little to him, but meant everything to everybody else; he’d walk several steps behind you, waiting until late fifth year when he finally plucked up the courage and accidentally cornered you into Filch’s store cupboard. Granted, it worked out fine, with the cupboard rising in temperature very quickly, but it never answered the question of What The Hell Was This, and how long it would last. All Yoongi knew was that from the moment he had you tongue tied and dripping in Filch’s dusty cupboard, he would do anything to have a second taste.

Yoongi pulls away first, viewing the way your eyes remain closed for a long three seconds before they fluttered open, peering down at him. He almost straightens up with pride when you unhook your ankles and let them gently swing next to him, your fingers curling in the strings of his jumper.

“What are you doing down here?” you ask finally, your voice quieter without any need to be loud. Your face is, after-all, inches from his own, and the smell of burning is non-existent with the sound of elf footsteps filling the room, just like normal.

“I need a place to stay,” Yoongi replies after a moment's pause. “I’ve been sexiled. Again.”

You hum noncommittally, still curling the strings. “Well, that’s tragic.”

“And you owe me,” Yoongi reminds, because apparently, he does a lot of favours for people. You had almost forgotten how Yoongi took the blame for your failed prank on Cho Chang after someone mentioned in the Hufflepuff Sleepover that she “totally snitched on Potter, and even though he’s a bit of a bellend, nobody deserved Umbridge’s detentions.” Yeah- the mustard bomb you planted in her bag backfired when it blew up on Umbridge herself, and Yoongi couldn’t bear to let you sit through her torture-detention and took one for the team. You apologised excessively when he left the room late at night and kissed the back of his hand over and over until the pain turned into numb lip stains, and he promised you could do him a favour in the future to make up for it.

“So, what?” you ask. “You want to stay in the kitchens? Not very sanitary.”

“I was thinking more your Common Room, but I guess, if you’re ashamed of me, then I can sleep out here in the cold surrounded by elf feet…” His voice trails off and he perks when you laugh, your hands fluffing his hair and then falling back to your lap. “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just funny,” you shake your head with a grin. “I’m not ashamed of you, by the way. I just...I didn’t think you wanted to make it official like that.”

“Nobody’s making it official.”

“The second you walk in there, every Hufflepuff is gonna label us as the next Dramione. You want that?”

Yoongi shrugs. “Who wouldn’t want to be with you?”

You pause. “I could make a list?”

“Please, no-”

“There was George Weasley- I remember when he awkwardly turned me down in the library in third year, his loss-”

“I’m too sober for this,” Yoongi groans, pulling away completely. Instead of turning away completely, he reaches for the large plate of lemon sponge cake and cuts two large slices. “Look, can’t you just do me this favour once? It’s just until Jeongguk finally dicks down Parkinson.”

“Pansy Parkinson?”

“Yeah, the short one. Not very friendly, hides behind her hair, actually kinda cute when she stops being a bitch and chasing after Malfoy.”

“Oh, yeah, I know her. We made brownies together in September,” you nod, jumping down from the counter and wiping away invisible dust from your trousers. “Aw, she’d look so good with Guk. He’s what she needs, you know?”

Yoongi nods reluctantly, “That’s what he said, too.”

As Yoongi continues carefully cutting two slices, you bound towards the barrels lined up outside the entryway to the Hufflepuff Common Room, tapping the passcode while Yoongi remains otherwise occupied. Once he’s finished, he peers over his shoulder as you stand by the entryway, muttering to a Hufflepuff who always sits by the door on an evening to stop people from entering, because one loud-mouth once told a Ravenclaw how to get in, who told someone else, who told the entire school.

Yoongi can feel his eyes softening, and he probably figures there’s sparkles in them as he watches you; it’s like his whole body has turned into a soft mush, and his heart physically hurts watching you giggle with the other Hufflepuff, gesturing back towards Yoongi with your thumb and meeting his smile with teeth and crescent mooned eyes.

Yoongi’s definitely not in love - there’s not enough here and there for that to be realistically possible. All he knows is that he’s fond of you. Fond doesn’t even cut it. There’s something about you that makes him feel safe, and accepted, and comfortable, and when you call him over with the all clear, he very nearly drops the plate into twenty pieces as he steps towards you. God, his heart is in his throat and his hands are kind of shaking- in the orange glow of the candlelight surrounding the kitchens, Yoongi thinks you look the most beautiful. He almost can’t breathe.

The Hufflepuff Common Room is both everything and nothing like what he expected. When he steps inside, the room feels huge, and almost circular, with a humongous fire that roars forever and a circular carpet just in front of it, and on top of that, a large Chest acting as a coffee table and three large, worn suede sofas. The room feels homely- not like his home, decorated with modern decor, but like a home he’d expect to see on telly, with natural colours and plants that hang from random items around the room, a big painting of mountains above the fire and a clock that seems stuck on midnight. He smells tea and honey, spotting a makeshift kitchen set up by two early-bird students who stare at him owlishly as he enters, one hand glued to yours.

He almost jumps when the coffee table Chest springs open and three giggling Hufflepuff’s step out; he vaguely remembers someone saying that Newt Scamander had one of those, a chest that opens into a whole other world. Then, he also recalls the time you told him about this, under the full moon and ocean of stars, on top of the astronomy tower.

(“We’ve got a bar down there. It opens into a bar when you enter, and there’s an outdoor area with a park and a pond and a canopy, and there’s a hammock, too! I remember Cedric Diggory- remember him?- I remember him taking Cho Chang on that hammock. The hammock broke, you already know what happened there.”) ((Yoongi now wants to go into the Chest.))

Instead, you tug him towards the sixth-year Hufflepuff bedrooms, where you swing the door open without a care of the other sleeping students. Yoongi actually flinches for you, and pauses upon entry when he realises that half the beds are bloody empty, save the one girl snoring loudly with earphones in in the corner, facing the wall decorated with postcards and a newspaper cutting of Harry Potter, which Yoongi personally finds quite creepy.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” you say with a sigh, kicking off your shoes to bounce on your bed. Yoongi almost feels jealous, because these beds definitely look bigger than the ones in Slytherin.

“How come we never came back here?” he wonders aloud.

You shrug, taking the cake off him as he kicks off his shoes and climbs next to you. The bed squeaks slightly and you flush, for whatever reason Yoongi already kind of knows, and when he’s settled, you cuddle in between his legs, taking a fork from his pocket and picking at one of the slices.

“I thought you were embarrassed of me,” you confess quietly.

“What...why would I be embarrassed of you?” Yoongi asks. Expectantly, he stares at you until you look over at him through a mouthful of cake. “Y/N…”

“I don’t know, okay?” you surrender. “Probably house anxiety, or whatever.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means that I know what people say about Hermione and Draco behind their backs,” you reluctantly say, shuffling to face him. “I didn’t want that. I know you didn’t either. And every time we’d meet, it would be in some place secretive. I don’t know, I just thought...that you didn’t really wanna be seen with me, or whatever. It’s stupid.”

Yoongi doesn’t know what to say. Instead, he puts down the plate and fork and gently turns your head towards him with his hands, a frown on his face and between his eyebrows. “Baby…”

“And it’s okay,” you reassure quickly with a smile. “It’s really okay. It’s a big step! It’s a big thing. I don’t mind the secretiveness...makes life more exciting, you know?”

“Mhm, I know.”

“And I like you a lot, Yoongi,” you murmur, and when he smiles widely, you groan, “but I like being secretive right now. It’s fun running around and hiding in classrooms. And it was so much fun having sex in Snape’s supply cupboard while he was interrogating Harry Potter in the corridor.”

“Oh, wow, I’d forgotten about that one.”

The clock on the wall ticks to 2am when you shuffle further into Yoongi’s body, wondering if you can get any closer. With a groan, Yoongi forces more cake into his mouth, laughing around a chunk when you giggle at his face, scrunched up with fake pain.

“Oi! You’re getting crumbs all over my bed,” you mutter, wiping away a little pile of crumbs onto the floor. Yoongi shrugs, putting the plate on the bedside table and rolling over, pulling you into his arms with his cheek squished against your head. “Oh my God. This is our first cuddling session- hold on, wait, I need photographic evidence of this exact moment-”

“Ugh, can’t you just relax for two seconds?” Yoongi complains, holding you in place. “You can just take it tomorrow, or whatever.”

“You’re staying?”

Yoongi looks down at you. “I’ve been sexiled, Y/N, I can’t just go back to my room and listen to Jeongguk and Pansy all night.”

“And so instead, you have come to annoy little old me. I see, I see, it’s okay.”

(Yoongi lets you complain playfully for a little while until you fall asleep on his bicep, and he takes a little longer than expected to look at you, mapping out all your features and details before dragging the quilt covers over your body.)

“Hey, where’d you go last night?”

Jeongguk trails behind Yoongi as they walk into the Grand Hall together, stomachs growling for a breakfast. As he walks towards the Slytherin table towards the far right of the hall, he takes a glance at the Hufflepuff table and his heart jumps when he sees your bed of messy hair, facing a girl opposite you with panda eyes. He tears his gaze away before anybody can notice him looking.

“I thought you’d sleep on the couch, or something,” Jeongguk shrugs.

“The couch is too close to your sperm sharing session,” Yoongi replies, and Jeongguk grimaces visibly and stacks bacon onto his plate. “Speaking of...everything go okay?”

Jeongguk’s face twists into pure affection: “Yoongi, it was amazing. Really. God, I feel so bad for her- Malfoy really was a dick, and never gave her any attention. All I had to do was tell her she was doing well and everything changed. She’s so nice, Yoongi. I think I like her. A lot.”

Yoongi nods, genuinely listening. “That’s good.”

“And, seriously, she was so good,” Jeongguk continues, and now Yoongi switches off slightly, grabbing a pancake from a plate. He only half listens to Jeongguk spill the details of how Pansy does something with her tongue that no other girl or guy has done for him, and thankfully shuts up with Pansy slips next to him on the bench and leans into his side, her hair in little space buns, freckles on display. Yoongi’s never seen those before. He looks at her with a knowing stare and she wriggles with discomfort, a smile eventually replacing the frown on her small and slightly red lips.

“Please,” she sighs, “stop telling him about your sex life. Your sex life is now also my sex life, and I’d rather nobody knew.”

Yoongi scoffs loudly. “It’s okay. We can share sex lives, if you wanna.”

“If I knew any better,” Seokjin pipes up from further down the bench, “I’d think you’ve never touched anybody before, Yoongi. Have you ever been with anybody in your six years of being here?”

��For your information, Virgin Mary, I have.”

Jeongguk twists with shock. “Really? I thought you hated all the Slytherin girls.” He turns to Pansy: “not you, baby.”

“And who said it was a Slytherin who has me tied down?” Yoongi snaps back, shoving in a piece of pancake.

Everybody around Yoongi pauses, not really knowing what to say to that. Draco Malfoy looks up with a sneer when he hears, sipping his tea and calling down to Yoongi. He almost doesn’t believe that, he says. It feels nice knowing that people follow in his footsteps.

Yoongi gives Draco one dirty look. “Unlike you, I respect my other-house girlfriend and take care of her. We have a long history of loving sex, instead of a long history of mental abuse and bullying. Now, sit back down and eat your fucking waffles, Malfoy, I’m not in the mood to hear you try and convince me that you think Granger is any different to what Parkinson was. You wouldn’t know how to treat a girl properly if someone wrote the steps on your big ass forehead.”

Yeah, nobody really says anything after that, and the Hall falls into a silence for a short twenty seconds. The only noise seems to be the quiet sniggers of a Hufflepuff girl behind Yoongi, who Jeongguk notices moving with giggles. He looks at her and then back at Yoongi, doing the Math when Yoongi smiles to himself at the sound and grins into his pancakes.

(“So... who is the Hufflepuff girl you’re dating?”

Yoongi sighs. “We’re not dating. I just said that to shut up Malfoy.”

“So, you’re fucking a Hufflepuff.”

“Actually, I like to call it we’re-dating-but-it’s-way-too-exciting-to-fuck-in-Snape’s-office-and-labels-are-so-last-year.”

“...You’ve screwed her in Snape’s office? Man, you’ve got balls.”)

((“Wait. You’re screwing Y/N L/N?”

“Correction, I am screwing Y/N L/N with my whole heart inside Snape’s office.”

Jeongguk shudders and when Pansy lifts her head up out of his shoulder, she squints in Yoongi’s direction and yawns: “wait, the one who makes brownies in the kitchens?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi replies. “And what about it?”

Pansy shakes her head, thinking about it. She lies back down on Jeongguk’s shoulder with a little smile, “She told me that once. I thought she might be joking, but looking back on it, she really talked about you as if she was talking about the stars.”

Yoongi thinks about that for a minute.))

(((“Dude, I think Snape knows.”

Yoongi glances at Jeongguk in potions, stirring the purple liquid. “Knows what? That we fucking suck at potions? Yeah, no shit.”

Jeongguk opens his mouth to speak and pauses when Snape briskly passes their table, sending a curt glare in their direction and then turning to another table. Across from where the duo are standing, you sneak a glance up from your cauldron, half-heartedly pouring in the next vial of liquid.

“No,” Jeongguk replies, “I think he knows that someone had sex in his office. Heard him complaining about it to Dumbledore after breakfast.”

Yoongi flushes. “Oh?”

“Yeah. The words “little shits” were used,” Jeongguk nodded. “You’re on his hit list.”

Yoongi doesn’t quite believe Jeongguk until Snape not-so-accidentally bashes into Yoongi from behind, sending the contents of his cauldron all over the table, soaking not only his own robes and books but also yours. Snape only shrugs his shoulders and forces out a, “You should watch what you are doing,”, taking five seconds to say each word, before deducting fifteen points from Slytherin.)))

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