no space ! MINSUNG

the room of requierment

Han Jisung had always loved people.

Or, at least, that's what most people believed.

Don't misunderstand—Jisung did love people. He loved to help, he loved to socialize, and he loved to party. He might as well have been a Hufflepuff dressed in a Gryffindor uniform.

But his small secret was that he actually got really exhausted, really fast. Yes, he helped every student at Hogwarts, and yes, he accepted every social event he was invited to.

That didn't mean he always liked to. In fact, most of the time, he wanted to say no. But he believed he was too nice for his own good, the guilt of saying 'no' and disappointing people was bigger than his laziness.

He had been fourteen when he discovered the Room of Requirement.

Long story short, he had been desperate after hearing that Lee Felix was looking for him, wanting help with a spell. So, he'd been subtly running away. Blah, blah, blah—magic door—blah, blah, blah. He hadn't questioned it much; Hogwarts surprised him every day, after all.

Eventually, he realized that apparently not many people knew about this room. Actually, nobody. At least, nobody he knew of.

He had been focused on his book when a clock appeared on the wall, catching his attention. Ah, right, he had wanted to stay here just one hour, and as expected, the room reminded him.

He hurried out. Ugh. He'd completely forgotten what class was next. It always took him a while to get used to the new schedule every year.

Running through the seventh floor, hoping to reach the stairs and bump into one of his friends, he crashed into someone. Huh, that was odd; not many people were on this floor often. That was part of the room's secrecy, in his opinion.

His book fell. "I—I'm so, so sorry..." Jisung kneeled to pick up the book, and that's when he realized the person was just standing there, looking down at him. He quickly glanced up.

It was Lee Minho, arms crossed, apparently enjoying the sight of Jisung kneeling before him.

There weren't any obvious signs of this 'enjoyment,' but Jisung knew. Oh, he knew. Because, much to his dismay, he knew Lee Minho better than he wanted to. Behind his bland expression, there was satisfaction resting in those eyes.

Jisung quickly stood up. "Actually, I wish you'd fallen," he corrected himself, internally proud of his insult.

Minho barely raised an eyebrow, still looking down at him. Minho wasn't that much taller, but the way he stood and stared made him feel like a giant. Jisung frowned and puffed out his chest.

"Well, aren't you clever," Minho smirked, like an adult humoring a child. He was ready to keep walking, which made Jisung suspicious—and a little irritated. He'd come up with that witty insult, but now Minho wasn't stopping to argue with him? Who did he think he was?

Jisung spoke again, stopping Minho's feigned retreat. "What are you up to anyway, huh? You shouldn't be on this floor."

"Oh, I'm flattered you know my schedule from top to bottom, Han," Minho said with that patronizing tone that always made Jisung feel stupid. "But I'm afraid I don't have time to talk to each one of my admirers. You know how it is... If I do it for you, I'd have to do it for everyone, and I can't be here all day, can I?" Minho looked at him like he expected an answer.

How dare he? Jisung couldn't care less about Lee's stupid schedule. The only reason he knew was because he spent so much time on the seventh floor. Of course, he'd notice if Minho had classes there.