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Her hair is the color of autumn on the rainy day when he meets her.He enters the tea shop without much of a thought, closing his umbrella with a grimace as the bell signals his arrival.“I hate the rain,” he says. He mutters a spell to dry himself, dusting the drops off the hem of his pants into oblivion, and sniffs at the rain pelting the window front. It's true that he hates getting caught in the rain, but the smell of wet grass, subtly carried by the wind and coming through the slow closing door from a far off place he knows not, is enough to damp the sourness in his words. For a few seconds, he only watches the drops falling down the glass.“Should I make you something to warm yourself up?”He jumps, somehow not actually expecting someone to be in the shop, so lost in thoughts that escape him the moment he lets them go.She walks closer to him, the sound of her heels on the wooden floor louder than the raindrops falling on the ground. He takes a step back, away from her, and she takes one forward, her eyes studying his face as if looking for something. He wishes some of the magic folk were just as commonly impersonal like the muggles, that they wouldn’t cross personal barriers with the same ease they cast their spells. There’s still a space between them, and she keeps her hands behind her back, but her eyes seize him in a scrutinizing way that almost makes him chant a few words to protect his innermost thoughts.She backs away at last, gesturing to one of the tables, and walks towards a counter at the far end of the shop, looking over her shoulder to smile at him. She raises her wand to several little drawers that cover the back wall, little drawers that open and close at her voiceless commands, all the ingredients coming together for his beverage, a few colorful liquids too, everything dancing in the air and down into a teapot. The girl’s wand draws circles around the teapot while her other hand picks up a silver tray.She brings it all to him, a whole tea set the color of clay, and gently pours a tea with a similar color onto his cup. He stares at her when she doesn’t go away, when she clasps her hands in front of her and waits.He sips the tea and coughs, a strong taste of pepper and a bitterness congealing on his tongue, and the girl with auburn hair brings her hands to her mouth.“Oh no, did I add too many spices? Too much potion? I’m sorry, let me try again!”She steals the cup off his hand and skitters away. He scoffs to himself as she puts on her show again, herbs and flowers and water making patterns in the air before falling on his teacup. She’s more careful the second time around, he ponders, aiming for less than a whole teapot of undrinkable tea.It’s a pity that the second attempt is just as disastrous as the first.“I’m sorry,” she says, her entire body bowing in dismay. “My mom can make the right tea for our customers with the same precision Mr. Ollivander used to make wands, but she’s not here and I’m still learning. Of course you can stand up and leave if you want, but I’d love it if you let me try again.”He wants to take the offer, but her eyes are earnest and welcoming and he does not want to be the one to take that away. Instead, he gestures to the window, where the rain continues to fall relentlessly.“I’ll be here until the rain passes, so take your time.”The wizard crosses his legs, taking in the details of the little shop while the girl makes her third attempt. With the exception of the window front and the back wall displaying the tea ingredients, the other walls are covered top to bottom with various tea pots, mugs, and other small glass wares. Above him, there were transparent vases of various sizes, all with multicolored flowers and plants, swinging and floating in the air with a non-existent breeze. He supposes they're ingredients for future use, but mostly responsible for the fragrant atmosphere.He takes another look outside, wondering how long it’d take for everything to settle; both the rain and himself.“You look a little lost,” she says, placing her latest attempt in front of him. “Do you mind if I sit?”He shakes his head and sips his tea. His eyebrows shoot up, delighted at the buttery sweetness that passes over his tongue and breathes warmth and verve into his heart.“Ah! I got it right this time, didn’t I?” She says with glee, setting both elbows on the table and her chin on her palms.“I believe so,” he says sincerely, taking another sip.“I put in a little potion to cheer you up so the rain doesn’t ruin your day,” she says, her heels rhythmically tapping the floor like she’s dancing. “My mom says it’s important to read your customers’ emotions to make the perfect tea, something that will warm more than their chests.”“Your mother seems like a wise and competent woman.”The girl with the auburn hair nods excitedly and he chuckles, and he’s unsure if it’s because of the potion or her antics.“My father says she’s always been like this, and he always thought that’s what it meant to have magic, to be that talented and beautiful. I imagine he was quite disappointed when I was born and turned out to be just a tiny bit different. And louder.” She lets out a brief laugh. “But she’s my role model and working with her in this shop is very exciting. What do you work with?”“I work at the Ministry," he says and her eyes widen. Quickly, he adds, "Nothing of much importance, just boring bureaucracy.” “That’s still amazing. Is that why you moved here recently?”The wizard narrows his eyes.“How did you know that?”She waves his suspicion off.“Like I said, you look a little lost. When you entered you kept looking out the window like you didn’t know which way to go.”He nods because it’s plausible enough, even if it’s still too strong an intuition to have. He thinks that she might have more of her mother’s talents than she knows. He thinks that he shouldn’t be thinking about her.He takes another sip of his tea and watches her over the rim of the cup, as the light coming from the outside draws shadows in the shape of raindrops on her face. She’s quiet for the first time since he came in, not even humming.“I like the rain,” she says. “It reminds me of how my parents met, how they bumped into one another on the sidewalk during a day like this one. It was my favorite story growing up. I would beg my father to tell me again and again about their first kiss, how they levitated in the air and he knew he would never be able to love another. It carries a special kind of magic, one we never learned in books.”He sets the teacup down, unable to stop the smile coming to his lips.“Do you always tell your customers about the heartfelt story of how your parents met?”She laughs, droplets of hair falling and framing her face as she leans forward in carefree glee.“No, only the ones who happen to stumble upon my shop on a particularly gray rainy day. Though, it does help that you look about my age and remind me of Hogwarts.”The mention of Hogwarts lights a bulb in his head and he thinks, yes, she does look familiar. His memory has always been one of his most prized assets, but he also hasn’t kept much company with people his own age recently. Most of the people he worked with at the ministry were old, stern and dangerously quiet. Much like his father.“Looks like it’s your cue,” she says, standing up and taking his tray. He’s surprised to see the rain has indeed stopped.He follows her to the counter and gives her the payment for all three of her attempts. She takes only one of the coins.“Come by again and I’ll make your favorite tea,” she says, her smile carrying the humor of their shared joke.“Third time is the charm,” he says, bowing slightly in her direction in the manner of his family, and stepping out of the teashop.The air outside is considerably less stuffy and filled with mingling scents. It still makes him cough. Her hair is a deep navy blue sprinkled with white, like starlight in winter, the second time they meet. There is no cloud in the sky to usher him to her again, but still he comes.The days passed by slowly, in long hours that seemed never-ending. Every morning when the crowds rushed by to get to their jobs at the Ministry, her eyes would stray over them. They searched merrily, jumping from face to face, maybe hopeful to see someone tall or lean or with a fine jaw and captivating eyes, but they never seem to find what they scanned for. In the evening, as she and her mother closed the shop, she would pout, not knowing what it was that she was missing in the routine she had gotten used to, in the fluttering wings that had settled in her stomach, but knowing something was amiss.She's in the back room when that missing something, that someone, walks in, her mother greeting the customer with her usual trained eye, her mind already selecting the best ingredients to use.“Um, I was hoping for someone else to, uh, make my tea,” he says, and the deep, smooth swell of his voice perks her ears. She peeks out, catching his eye. A light flickers in them, a lopsided smile growing on his face, no longer focused on her mother.The beautiful lady known as Oh Soo Yeon, her mother who always seems to know all, turns to her, her eyebrow quirked, her mouth a thin line of annoyance at being dismissed, no matter how polite he had been about it. Soo hops out of the backroom and her mother walks inside. Out of her view, Soo almost stumbles over her own feet, nervously dusting off her clothes.“Did you have a certain tea in mind?” She asks despite the agitation inside of her, an excitement that lights her up as quick as an illumination spell.“Aren't you supposed to read my emotional state in order to give me the best tea?” He sits on the chair, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other, and gestures for her to sit across from him. “It's good practice, right?”She bites her lip, staying the smile, trying to keep her face steady as she sits across from him. She takes in the state of him, focusing on his eyes, to see beyond them like her mother taught her to do, but all she sees is golden honey rimmed around his irises, deep browns both elegant and warm reaching out for more. More. The thought catches and she runs away with it.“I'll be right back with your tea,” she says. “I'll get it right on the first try this time.”She doesn't put on a show for him this time. She opens the drawers and smells vials without the aid of her wand, wanting to put a little bit of herself into it. He wanted more, his eyes told her, more than what life currently offered him, and she can give him that, with the right ingredients. She can make him braver in his choices, loosen the tension in his shoulders, open himself to all the possibilities before him. It's how she usually feels in this city full of strange people and stranger beings still, all beautiful in their own right, all waiting to be discovered by a keen eye and an open heart. Her mother is always worried that she might give too much of herself away in the potions she makes, but how could she find herself in this world, in eyes that looked right back at her, if she isn't willing to give? Soo makes a tea with the every ingredient that tastes of sunrise, of beginnings.She sets it in front of him, pouring with a knowing hand. The steam curls into his nose as he leans to sniff the fragrance. He nods in approval. His pinky sticks straight out as he lifts the cup and takes a sip. She can see the difference immediately; a shiver runs quietly through him, the pupils of his eyes pulse, and he falls into relaxation.“First try,” she says, a giggle escaping her.“I was only a little worried for my tongue,” he says. “What kind is it? This is more herbal than the last one.”“Oh, you know, just something to give you a little push in the right direction.”“I was already going in the right direction when I came in here.” He leans forward, feeling bolder than he had one second before. “I've been wanting your tea. I couldn't get it off my mind.”He sticks his hand out for her to take. “I'm Wang So.”She stares at his hand. And in the second she takes it, blushing at the way his finger caresses the delicate skin over her pulse, she knows she made the tea too strong. “I'm Hae S–” She jerks her hand away. “–Wait, Wang? Like the Wangs? Pureblood, rich family Wangs?”“The very same.”“I knew it!” Her finger points at him, full of playful accusations and rivalry. “I knew you were a Slytherin.”He laughs, his shoulders shaking in merriment. “I'm actually a Hufflepuff.”He picks up the tea and Soo bites her lip, clenches her hands in her lap to keep from knocking it from his. He drinks deeply, a drop sliding down his chin. She purses her lips, feeling her mother's eyes already on her, long done with her business in the stock room. She can get in trouble for her recklessness, again. Wang So wipes the stray drop that had fallen with a handkerchief, and he smiles like a satiated cat under the sun. Her eyes are big and round and focused on him, and she wishes she could will the potion away from him, but magic isn't as convenient as we all wished it to be. How far would this liquid courage take him?“Oh, I didn't realize," she remarks and laughs nervously, hoping he'll hear her silent prayers and not do anything crazy. If he's a Hufflepuff Wang and not one of the Slytherin Wangs, the ones who made history in their accomplishments in every year they spent as Hogwarts, the ones who strived with barely any effort on their part, then the knot in her stomach loosens a bit. Maybe he's less likely to be arrogant and show off, maybe he's just prone to be a little more... Personal?He shrugs. “Not many do, but I won't hold it against you.” He leans forward, his knuckles touching his lips in curiosity. "And by the boldness, assertiveness and clumsiness of your actions, you're a Gryffindor."She opens her mouth in indignation but the man known as Wang So only laughs and leans back in his chair, perfectly melting her retort away. She twirls the ends of her blue hair in her fingers, a blue that slowly tinges into purple, wondering if attraction is a kind of spell, too, and if there's a counter-spell for it. Not that she really wants to cast the counter-spell, she just needs to know for... Reasons. To protect herself against the twinkle in his eyes when he laughs.He stands and she stands with him. He's a little bouncier, looser. He steps close to her, so that she has to raise her eyes just to meet his. His smile and his pupils are wide. “You never told me your name.”He smells like spices and smoke. She almost leans into him, almost closes her eyes to appreciate it a little better amongst the myriad of smells that permeate the teashop. “S-Soo. I'm Hae Soo.”“Well, Hae Soo,” and his fingers brush a loose strand of hair from her face, “will you go on a date with me?”Her breath catches in her throat, and there's a welcome earnestness in his eyes she doesn't want to turn away from. This is how far it takes him; a strong push in her direction. And maybe it's the aroma of her tea lingering between them that pushes her towards him. The word falls from her lips like she's in free-fall in a misty dream. “Yes.” Her hair is the golden sun of dusk on their first date.“It’s been so long since I’ve been to the fair,” she says. She averts her gaze, a blush crossing her cheeks while patting down her dress, as if she hasn't already charmed him, as if he could possibly look away.Floating fairy lights guide them to the heart of the fair, to the heart of the party, but not one of them, with their colors flittering in midair, look quite as much like a fairy as his companion.His hand reaches up, touching a blonde curl, and the words slip past his lips before he can catch himself. “Your hair...” Hae Soo looks up at him with curious blinks. He drops his hand. “It looks different every time.”Hae Soo grins, ruffling her bangs and running a hand through the entire length of her hair. Her back straightens with pride. “Do you like it? I thought of paying homage to your House.”He notices the effort she put into her make-up for tonight, notices that she puts forth a lot of effort for him. He smiles at her pink cheeks, so lovely against the setting sun.“I do like it. I’ve just been wondering what it looked like originally.”The pout is on her lips but for a second before she begins to shake her head. Left and right, faster and faster, as black begins to ink her roots, weaving slowly down through every wave, every strand, until it reaches the tips. She’s a little dizzy when she stops, with giggles that echo the festival bells. He takes one step closer to her, not knowing how to help, and she takes hold of his forearms. When she’s regained her balance, she’s as close as she was on the first day they met and, with her black hair framing her face, he likes how the colors of her eyeshadow and lipstick seem brighter, more meticulously chosen — like careful brushstrokes in a painting.“This is what it looks like originally,” she says, beaming at him.“A metamorphmagus. I should have known.” He hesitates, but brushes a loose strand behind her ear. “It suits you.”She doesn’t change it back to what she had planned for the day, only walks to a nearby stand, her round eyes taking in all the moving sweets, briefly stopping to watch marshmallow cats jump and swim in a cup of hot cocoa.“My friends and I,” she says, walking from one stand and to the next, dodging children that used loud toys at each other around the square. “We used to go to the fair at Hogsmeade every year. The anticipation for the fair was almost as good as the fair itself... I miss it a lot. The feast specially prepared by the Headmistress, her speech about honoring those we lost but, above all, nurturing the hope in our hearts. It connected every student and I felt part of that big group. It made me believe that I’d never be alone.”So nods, touching a fairy light with his finger and watching it fly away.“It really did.”He turns to Soo and she’s watching the fairy light as well, the sky beyond turning from lavender to velvet blue.“I haven’t seen my friends in many years now. Chae Ryung... Married a muggle. A housewife who only uses magic for her children, for the house... Can you believe it?” She laughs. “And she’s so happy about it. She sent me a picture once, and every once in a while she'll send me herbs that she planted herself. And then there’s Woo Hee, who I haven’t seen since—”“Ah!” They exclaim at the same time, wide eyes facing each other. People walk past them.“Gryffindor Woo Hee? That Woo Hee?” So asks.“Yes, my Woo Hee! Married Wang Baek Ah a few years back.” Soo tilts her head to the side, looking him over. “Were you there? I don’t remember seeing you there.”“I was there. I was—”“The best man!” She points at him before clasping her hands together. “Ah, you had longer hair, right? I remember now. It was a beautiful ceremony.”“It was. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” he says, his feet taking him forward but he wouldn't be able to tell anyone what was happening around him later, his focus solely on Soo, trying to remember that wedding day. It comes to him, plays before his mind’s eye like a film. Her long, black hair flowing down her back clad in a peach-colored dress made of a delicate fabric, like freshly spun cotton candy, and her pink lips opening in the happiest smile as she turned to see the bride. Baek Ah had been his focus that day, a deliberate attempt to keep his creeping thoughts of entering the Ministry, his fears and apprehensions over his future at bay. But, in the present, right in front of him, Soo walks with the same glazed-over eyes, as if they’re walking down the aisle together again, now aware of each other.“I'm glad they're still so happy together. Do you remember their big fight in fifth year?”“How could anyone forget? He might as well paint it and immortalize it on one of the castle walls.” So chuckles, shaking his head. “I bet it spread to Durmstrang and Beauxbatons as well, they did seem to whisper every time we walked past them until the day they left.”“I still can’t believe it happened. Three schools, one ball.” Soo opens her arms, the story unfolding with her gestures. “A couple breaks up the day before the ball. The boy flirts and dances with every Beauxbatons girl he can, then the girl shows up at the top of the stairs and everything and everyone just stops. She raises her hand and a spotlight is cast, the band plays her song and, for the entire duration of it, no one can look away from her. She casts a different kind of spell over the hall. I knew Woo Hee was a great dancer, but that?” She laughs. “Man, I don’t think she'll ever be able to top that day.”“Baek Ah couldn’t even blink,” So adds with amusement. “It was like someone had cast Petrificus Totalus on him. And all of a sudden he just—”“Pushed all of the Beauxbatons girls out of his way.” Soo mimics the action and Baek Ah’s serious expression and So laughs. “Marched straight to Woo Hee and she held her head high and promptly—”“Slapped him. I think it echoed.”Their laughter mingles with the chatter and light music, the songs of fairs, the songs of the past wafting out of old, enchanted instruments.“I was really worried when they started dating again the week after that,” Soo adds in a light tone. “I thought she liked him a lot more than he liked her.”“You shouldn’t have worried. Baek Ah loves and admires her in a way he’s never loved anyone but himself.”“I suppose it’s true. A Slytherin and a Gryffindor... Explosive but passionate.”“Definitely.”They stop by a stand to buy a snack. Steam floats in pirouettes from their hands, and So is sure nothing tastes quite as food from the fair, so rich and pungent and melting in your mouth.“What about you?” Soo asks, both sitting down on a bench, and the fairies create a luminous bridge above them. “How did you end up in a different house?”So crosses his legs, pondering as he finishes chewing. Soo crosses her leg, too, and their feet perch close together in the air.“My brothers... They’re all quite ambitious in their own ways. Some more than others, of course, like Yo, the second oldest with an uncontrollable desire to follow into father’s footsteps. Big dreams and great aspirations, that’s what the Wangs are full of.” He smiles suddenly at a fond memory. “Although we’re still not quite sure how Jung didn’t end up in Gryffindor when he’s more talented for getting into trouble.”Soo pushes his arm with her shoulder in protest and he looks down at her, at her eyes that try to read him at all times. Eyes that draw the words out of him.“And you? You don’t have any dreams?” She asks.A fairy sneezes and sparkles fall over them. Soo makes a face and shakes it off her hair and shoulders.“I just... miss home. The home I haven’t seen since I was a child.” He touches her bangs and the sparkles fall on her cheeks. He’s not brave enough to brush them away. “I’m just looking for a place to be.”Soo appears to blink slowly, like in a dream.“It sounds complicated, Wang So.”“I suppose it is.” He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his hand afterwards. “And you? What’s your brave Gryffindor dream?”Soo uncrosses her legs and leans forward, drawing on the ground with her feet, indistinguishable shapes of contemplation.“I want to meet the world.”She rests her back against the bench again, brushing against him, still looking down.“Sounds complicated,” he says and she laughs, a bright smile that shows her teeth, and turns to him.“I’d also love to see the house where I grew up in again. I moved to London when I was very small so I remember very little of it.”“Where was it?”“All the way in South Korea.”“Okay,” So says, nodding, “the Wang Manor is there as well, so what’s stopping us from taking the next step and following our dreams?”Soo laughs and he feels that she’s closer, that she’s leaning against his side, and he loves it as much as the sound of her laugh, of her voice.“Maybe we should start small first. Why don’t we visit Baek Ah and Woo Hee?”“I’d love that."Maybe it’s the night having an effect on him with all its homely smells and the enchanting lights glittering in Soo’s eyes and on her lovely dress. Maybe it’s old memories warming his chest like one of Soo’s teas. Maybe it's the talk of dreams that make them seem so close, so within his grasp. But So wants to lean just a little bit forward and kiss Soo. He wants but he doesn’t.When a photographer approaches them for a celebratory picture, he takes a smaller step instead. He takes her hand and touches his head to hers. Steam whistles out of the magical device and the man hands them their picture, the magical polaroid of the 21st century, and together they watch as their hands intertwine in the small square, watch as their immortalized selves back away only to face each other and smile, and all the while the flowers behind them dance and grow taller in the wind.Grow?So looks behind him, staring at a living bouquet that stands taller than his head.“Come on, let’s enjoy more of the festival!” Soo calls, standing up and pulling him along. He moves, but he still turns to look back at the flowerbed, pretty sure that those flowers weren’t that tall before they sat down.