the amor files: lumos || jaemin na

year four - it's raining cats and dogs

"i need your help."

four words. that's all they had been. four words. four stinking words that landed jinah in a mess like this. she had had a single rule for herself when she stepped into hogwarts: don't do anything that will jeopardize your pride. and here she was, swallowing her pride like a literal floor mat and asking the one person she never thought she would have to for help.

jaemin na. 

he stares at her for a moment, his right eye twitching slightly. "you want my help? are you alright, mate? did you get hit in the head or something? where's kannika?"

jinah bristles at her best friend's name (although she wasn't really sure if they were truly best friends anymore after today) but keeps her chin pointed stubbornly upwards.

"that's none of your business. now will you help me or not?" she says, refusing to meet his eyes. jaemin says nothing, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his trousers. he examines her, watching how her eyes dart from the paintings on the wall to the ceiling of the great hall and back again. her hair, that she had impulsively chopped off a couple of weeks ago, fell right below her shoulder blades, swishing this way and that with every turn of her head. 

she looked different. more mature, for some reason.

"as long as i don't become your sacrificial lamb for some nasty potion, i'll help you," jaemin concedes finally. jinah eyes him suspiciously before nodding briskly.

"you can have a little more faith in me, you know," jinah grumbles, turning to walk back to the slytherin table. "you'd make a terrible sacrifice anyway."

jaemin has no idea why he smiles so widely.

+++

"are you sure this isn't a sacrificial ritual?" jaemin whispers, staring at the door apprehensively. inside the room of requirement - which had a discovery story filled with insurmountable chaos - was a cozy boudoir, decorated as though it was ripped straight from the ladies at beauxbaton, with dressers and desks and a bed that were much too feminine to belong to jinah. but it served a perfect contrast to the weather outside, where it looked as though the entire world was hellbent on electrocuting itself - which is exactly what speaking to jinah felt like.

or at least, what jaemin knew of jinah. as he had determined, however, there wasn't really much that he did know about jinah. it was as though every time he took two steps towards her, he would be set back by ten steps due to just how complicated this girl was.

more realistically, he was set back because of how complicated he was and how he refused to admit that he could be wrong once in a while. or many whiles.

"don't get your head all twisted, na," jinah says, rolling her eyes. "it's just because of the...special nature of my issue. and to be quite frank, i think it's nice - in an obscenely cute way."

"i didn't say anything," jaemin says with a shrug, although he eyes the frilly lace on the bed with a telling suspicion. "but you haven't told me what i'm supposed to help you with. or why you came to me of all people."

jinah pauses from where she's rummaging through a desk, looking at jaemin strangely before sighing and shaking her head. "you really don't understand people, jaemin. haven't you heard the weather outside tonight? the first clap of thunder marks the begin. now, all i have to wait for is the lightning."

she doesn't have to watch the gears turn in jaemin's head to realize that he's figured it out by the telltale smack! of his palm hitting his forehead. jinah gasps as she reaches inward, pulling out a blood-red vial victoriously.