Auburn

by 0610jun

Summary:

It’s 2004, six years since they’ve won the Second Wizarding War, and nearly seven years since Junhui’s last day in his human body.

Or: Minghao doesn’t know his cat is not a cat.

Notes:

• For dolliebit.

Happy The8 of Jun.

Chapter 1: The End

 

When he saw his Animagus form for the first time, it came as no shock. 

Generally, Muggle-borns don’t find out they’re wizards until a member of Hogwarts staff delivers their acceptance letters, but Junhui was eight when he first showed signs of magic, giving his parents the scare of their lives. 

As if the Wizarding World somehow smelled his magic, an enormous man came knocking on the door barely two days after Junhui's favourite book lit on fire with no candle in sight, and explained the concealed magical society to Junhui and his parents. 

Hagrid fished a crumbled-up list of school supplies Junhui would need out of his pocket, as in a few years time, the young boy would be attending a school in Scotland instead of the one down the road. 

But Junhui couldn't wait until his eleventh birthday to finally delve into this world of magic, and frequently dragged his mother to Diagon Alley, where he spent hours in Flourish and Blotts flipping through his future textbooks. 

He was most drawn to Transfiguration, and as he read through the book meant for third year students, stumbled upon a particularly interesting phenomenon— Animagi. Wizards who could, at will, transform themselves into an animal and back.

His parents were not pleased with this sudden development, but the gigantic man told them that Junhui was now officially registered as a wizard, and if Hogwarts didn't have him in its castle in September of 1991, Hagrid would personally come to fetch Junhui and take him there.

His parents even considered moving back to China, but it would be pointless. Junhui would go to Hogwarts whether they liked it or not. 

Their reluctance to accept his magical identity didn't waver, so eight-year-old Junhui knew that if he’d ask his mother to buy him one of the textbooks in advance, she’d say no. For that reason, he brought pen and paper to the bookshop and secretly scribbled the steps to becoming an Animagus onto his arm. 

As he lay in bed that night, with his hands under his chin and feet kicked up in the air, he read his notes. All he’d have to do was keep a Mandrake’s leaf in his mouth for a month, recite an incantation daily, then use the leaf to create a potion and drink it during a lightning storm. 

The leaf severely complicated things. He knew it would be the hardest part of the process to explain, but he was determined to succeed. In order to persuade his parents, he made up a story about a Hogwarts Honours Programme knowing they'd want him to apply, and in order to qualify, he had to follow these steps.

It worked, and so they let him do his thing. 

Keeping the leaf on his tongue was torturous. He failed time and time again, even nearly choked himself to death a few times, but after months of failed attempts, he was finally able to successfully complete the ritual. 

And from that moment on, Junhui could turn into a sandy Norwegian Forest cat, not knowing that something he just thought was cool would save his life later down the line. 

 

✵彡

 

During his third year at Hogwarts, he learned that most people become Animagi not out of curiosity, but because they’re in desperate need of a disguise.

He hadn’t told any of his Housemates at the time and didn’t want them to know either. Everyone in his Transfiguration class was hellbent on completing the ritual, but none of them seemed to possess the determination Junhui did at only eight years old. 

His peers thought it was odd that Junhui was the only one not giving it a shot, but he just shrugged and told them he wasn't interested in turning into something else. ("What if I transform into a mosquito? I'll get killed.")

He initially thought Animagi registration meant he'd be written about in some elaborate article for the Daily Prophet, but he'd really just be another name on a list, nothing extravagant. Still, though it's only public to those who worked for the Ministry or to those who specifically requested to see it, that still seemed like too much exposure. 

So Junhui decided not to register until graduation. He didn’t want anyone at school growing curious enough to want a look at the list while he was still a student. He was on no account ashamed of being an Animagus, obviously, but he wanted it to stay somewhat of a secret. Because as a cat, he was free.

Free of the shackles of a House and free of the rules he had to follow as a student. He could roam the halls at night without anyone batting an eye, especially if he joined the other cats. Students’ real pets.

No one paid him any mind this way. 

But by his sixth year, he’d grown exponentially, both as a human and a cat. 

He now stood at about 180 centimetres, and while trying to adjust to his long limbs, he also had to get used to just how big he’d become as a cat. He wasn’t towering over any of the other ones per se, he was fortunate enough to still be able to blend in with the other cats, but he was definitely aware that he had grown a significant amount.

The year that followed, however, his paws wouldn’t be touching Hogwarts' tiles anymore.

Instead, they’d be on the run. 

The school had fallen into the hands of Voldemort and his followers, and Junhui only found out what exactly was going on once he was already on the Hogwarts Express for the first semester of his final year. 

One of the students sitting in the compartment with him was reading the Daily Prophet, and because the Wens were Muggles, Junhui wasn't able to keep up with whatever transpired in the Wizarding World during school breaks.

In a far off corner on the back, discreet but still big enough to catch Junhui’s attention, he saw names. Not just any, but ones categorised under missing.

As he went down the list, Junhui realised that all the names he recognised were Muggle-born wizards or their parents. One of the names, Mina Nakamura, lived a few blocks away from him, but as far as he knew, she and her parents left town. 

Because that’s what he was told. 

Suddenly, the curtains shut on their own, blocking the window just as the door opened to a dark figure.

Covered in a black cloak and a mask, the man unfurled a piece of parchment with a list of names. Through the thin paper, Junhui could see some of them had been crossed out.

“Wen.” 

His mouth went dry.

Hogwarts Staff almost never rode the train, and no one from the Ministry wore something like this. 

All three of the other students stared right at Junhui, making it rather difficult to lie and say no one in this compartment had that last name. 

He slowly raised his hand. 

The man moved his cloak and took a step back, creating space for Junhui in the doorway. “After you.”

Junhui blinked once, ready to argue, but the remark lying on his tongue was quickly interrupted by the tip of a wand pressing into his throat. Everyone in the compartment gasped, but they either weren't confident enough to take the man on or just didn’t care enough, because they just sat there and watched while Junhui was forced out of his seat and into the vestibule.

He barely walked, not wanting to cooperate, but the man managed to drag Junhui’s body weight along until they reached a long, vertical line of students leading into the driver’s compartment. 

Once the wand was removed from his throat, Junhui could finally breathe properly. “Step out of the queue and you won’t see the light of day again.” 

And it was there that the puzzle pieces started coming together. 

All the students were Muggle-born, whether those at the front or those added to the line behind him, and the man who'd grabbed Junhui wasn't the only one gathering them. He spotted two other ones, and while the pattern on their masks were different, they were clearly the same type; part of the same group.

Every few minutes, a new person was brought into the driver’s compartment, and it wasn’t hard to notice that none of them came back out. 

Some of the students started crying, and Junhui didn't understand why none of the other students were stepping in. Perhaps the whole hallway was put under a Silencing spell, or maybe the remaining students were threatened like he had been. One way or another, Junhui knew that walking through that door was bad news.

So he did the only thing he could think of.

He cast a Smashing spell on the nearest window, jumped out, then immediately Disapparated.

But he hadn’t been quick enough. He hit the ground right before he disappeared, and as soon as he fell to his knees in the empty alley he Apparated to, a few blocks from his house, he knew he’d broken something. 

He desperately fought back tears and clenched his jaw hard as he hauled himself to his right foot, holding on to anything he could find to avoid putting pressure on his injured leg while tightening the hold on his wand under the sleeve of his robe, ready to attack if anyone followed him there.

Breathing heavily as he rounded his first corner, his leg hurt so badly he considered just Apparating directly into his living room, but he couldn't. If someone was tracking his Apparition magic, he would be putting his family in danger. 

As he passed the old Nakamura house, he realised he was seeing it for the first time since their disappearance. There was barely anything left of it, almost completely burnt to a crisp, but not by a regular fire.

Clearly, to the Muggle eye, the house looked unscathed. 

Whoever killed them had concealed their magic. 

It dawned on Junhui that this could have been him and his family, that it could still be him and his family, and the thought landed with the force of a bomb, nearly knocking him over. 

But he had to keep going. 

The sun smiled happily down at him as he limped forward. What would have been a beautiful Saturday afternoon to a normal person, had become possibly the most miserable day of Junhui’s life. 

Muttering Alohomora under his breath, the front door opened to the familiar smell of his home, but it felt everything but welcoming knowing what he was about to do. 

He knew the window stunt he just pulled didn't save him. Though he didn't know what was in store for the Muggle-borns within that driver's compartment — whether that would have been to Apparate each one to Azkaban or murder them on the spot — the first option seemed out of the question for Junhui now. If he was found, if he was captured, he was sure to die.

Junhui dragged his torn-up, bloodied body through the hall, and peeked into the living room to find his mother, step-father and seven-year-old brother all sitting at the table, staring at the computer they recently purchased. They were still trying to figure out how it worked. 

And they were so lovely, his family. They might not have always approved of his magical abilities, mostly because they were terrified their son was being put into danger, but they smiled and laughed at each of his stories and always applauded his grades. 

His little brother was extremely jealous of his wizardry, so Junhui always let Fengjun read his school books before going to sleep, quite literally letting him in on the magic. 

He really loved them, his family.

With a heavy heart and a tear rolling down his face, he shakily lifted his hand. 

His whole existence had become a crime, so he figured adding another one to his name wouldn't make much of a difference. And even if it did, even if he’d get tortured for doing this, Junhui would know that it was to save his family. He’d know that it'd been worth it.

He watched them interact a little while longer. They were cackling at their own confusion and groaned in unison whenever something didn’t work like they expected it to.

A happy unit, his family. 

Junhui let the tears fall freely as he whispered the spell that would make his face on the pictures on the walls slowly fade to nothing; an empty background or a misplaced void.

Then he whispered another.

Before being broken into pieces and discarded, the last spell his wand cast was one of the three Unforgivable Curses. With careful measure, he planted the idea of moving to the other side of the world into his family’s heads, and he watched with blurry vision as they robotically left the table to pack their bags, leaving this life, and Junhui, for good.

 

✵彡

 

What he hadn’t known while watching his parents drive away though, was that by turning into his cat form and using it to hide from Snatchers, he too would be leaving this life, and Junhui, behind forever.

 

✵彡

 

Junhui took his time eating the piece of chicken he was given, finishing last out of the bunch. 

The other cats hung around the door for a little while more, hoping Wonwoo would give them another treat, but the pharmacist only handed them out once a day. If Junhui was able to, he'd probably chuckle at them, but instead he watched the group slowly disperse and make their way back to their homes, to the people who loved them. 

Jeon Wonwoo built his apothecary, where he sold medicinal potions, in 2000 after apparently rotting in Azkaban for a year on account of being a “blood traitor”, until he was released and able to finish his Hogwarts education.

Jeon’s Apothecary was arguably the nicest-looking building in all of Diagon Alley, even after the other shops were renovated once the war ended, and it drew a lot of attention. But Junhui didn't care much for its aesthetic. The building caught his attention because of the large awning on the door that kept the ground dry when it poured.

So that’s where Junhui hung out for nearly three years. He stuck close to the glass walls of the apothecary and slept below the awning night in night out. 

Despite the distasteful looks most wizards walking in and out of the building shot him — with some even hissing at him to get him to leave — Wonwoo never sent him away. Instead, he spent most of his breaks with Junhui, where he would give him bite-sized pieces of his well-prepared lunches.

Unfortunately for Junhui, this peaked other cats' interests, and within a few days, multiple cats crowded the apothecary at around three in the afternoon, when Wonwoo would normally come outside and share some of his food with Junhui. 

“I have actual treats this time,” he said to the crowd one day, and because Junhui was used to plucking food from every possible nook and cranny for three years, he wasn’t going to complain about eating food meant for actual cats.

This became a steady routine, and Junhui figured this would be how he’d spend the rest of however long his life would be, but then, at around the end of 2003, Xu Minghao started delivering potions he’d been commissioned to brew. He brought them over every Friday night, when the moon had already replaced the sun and the temperature had dropped.

Junhui kept mostly to himself during his school years, making friends with his peers’ cats rather than the peers, but he knew who Minghao was simply because people liked to point out they were both Chinese. Despite this, Junhui and Minghao had never actually been introduced.

But Junhui became much more aware of him during the war, because Minghao was branded both a coward and a traitor— the former by his Death Eater family and everyone involved with the Dark Arts, and the latter by the Light side.

Minghao hadn’t fought in the Battle of Hogwarts at all, letting down both sides, and chose to hide in the shadows instead. 

And Junhui heavily related to that, as he also wasn’t present. He too hadn’t fought for his friends. He also hid in the shadows, though four-pawed.

Maybe they were both cowards, or maybe they were just trying to live. To survive.

The first time Minghao walked up to the front of the apothecary, he gave Junhui a small, tight-lipped smile with a dip of his head. 

It was unlike any other wizard, and it surprised Junhui so much that it enticed him to straighten up and chirp as kindly as he could.

The briefcase Minghao carried made a lot of noise as he moved to open the door, the distinct sound of bottles and vials of liquid clinking together, then he disappeared inside. 

During the first few days of hanging around the apothecary, Wonwoo regretfully told Junhui that he was not allowed past the front door in fear of him knocking something important over. Because Junhui couldn’t argue and say that he had a human-level understanding of carefulness, he just had to deal with it.

He also had to deal with the fact that Wonwoo could not take him home. Junhui was obviously and quickly deemed a stray, and due to Wonwoo's boyfriend's allergies, Junhui would remain a stray. Still, Wonwoo tried his best to keep Junhui alive by feeding him part of his lunch when the other cats weren’t around and casting warm-up spells on him before leaving his workplace.

The door opened again, and Junhui uncurled himself slightly to look up at Minghao, who gave him that same smile and polite nod again.

To return his politeness, and because Junhui felt giddy from being acknowledged by someone other than Wonwoo, he meowed back.

Then, each Friday, as Minghao walked up to the building with the moonlight brightening his unruly auburn hair, the smiles he sent Junhui slowly grew less rigid. At one point Minghao even began showing teeth. 

After a while, Minghao started using words, simple hellos that Junhui responded to with happy noises, but those turned into small sentences about how Junhui was doing or to wish him a good night, until Minghao eventually started coming a little early to spend actual time with Junhui, sitting next to him against the glass wall as the moon watched over them. 

Despite their developing closeness, Minghao was apprehensive to touch him, so Junhui made it his mission to convey that he would love to be touched. He’d been craving it for years. Starving for it.

Wonwoo tried to pet him as little as possible to avoid getting cat hair on his clothes, so Junhui immediately, and quite literally, jumped on the opportunity.

But now, in 2004, Junhui knows just how equally starved Minghao was. 

Is.

The door to the apothecary opens, and Junhui perks up at the chime of the bell, meowing happily. 

Instead of a briefcase, Minghao now carries a neatly organised shoulder bag in order to be handsfree, as he loves to hold Junhui just as much as Junhui loves to be held. Not even because his leg never properly healed and walking hurts, but because he just loves being in Minghao’s arms.

As usual, Minghao groans a little as he picks the large cat up, but he never complains about his arms getting sore.

Together, they walk back to Knockturn Alley.

The sleeve of Minghao's robe slides up a little, revealing a glimpse of the Dark Mark on his inner left forearm that he immediately tries to cover up by readjusting his hold on Junhui.

It’s nearing midnight. The streets are completely dark save for the moon shining down on them, and Minghao holds him tighter as he walks into the alley of The White Wyvern, the only place that is willing to house him. 

Witches and wizards who hang around the pub look at them disdainfully, but Minghao ignores them as he strides up the stairs to the top floor. It’s the crappiest flat Junhui has ever seen, the rent is five times what it should be, and yet, somewhere over the past few months, it’s become Junhui’s home. 

Minghao carefully puts him down as soon as he’s opened the front door, then closes it with a sigh.

Junhui meows at him, making an effort to sound encouraging, and Minghao gives him a gentle smile before shrugging off his robe and hanging it on a nail that’s been badly punched into the wall. He takes off his boots, the only shoes he owns, and drops them below it. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” he tells Junhui, who laid down on the old couch that permanently became their bed after Minghao had to sacrifice the bedroom to create his potion laboratory. “Don’t fall asleep yet, Yue.”

Yue.

Moon.

Initially, Minghao called him whatever name popped up into his head, ranging from Sandy to Apple Pie, before finally settling on Yue after Junhui perked up in interest.

Because that's where they met, under the glowing light of the moon; where they would sit just to spend time together.

It smiled down at them, like a comforting blanket on a cold night, and it's under that light that Junhui became Minghao’s moon cat. 

 

✵彡

 

Unlike Wonwoo’s apothecary, Junhui is allowed inside Minghao’s laboratory, but only if he stays on the pillow near the door. He always does, because he loves that Minghao trusts him enough to let him in and watch him work, and he wouldn’t give this up for anything. Junhui will lie down as asked and mewl contently. 

Because Minghao is beautiful when he’s focused. 

He’s beautiful all the time, really, but his beauty is somehow heightened by his passion for potion brewing. There’s a fondness on his face as he goes over the ingredients and takes the correct ones from the floor, all while humming a melody. Junhui watches Minghao take his bottom lip between his teeth as he reads through the instructions, all while trying to keep his overgrown hair out of his face. 

It’s unfair, Junhui thinks, so extremely unfair that a person who doesn’t and has never meant any harm has been shut out by the entire Wizarding World, and that the years of dreaming about a freelancing career are crushed because of people not wanting to buy his perfectly brewed potions just because he made them. 

And he knows this because Minghao told him. Because Minghao tells him anything and everything.

This shocked Junhui at first, but he quickly realised that Minghao hasn’t been able to share anything about himself the past six years. Or maybe, as heartbreaking as that thought is, even longer.

It also stopped surprising Junhui how often Minghao cries. 

It’s not like he can really hide it from the cat— none of the doors inside the flat have functioning locks and he and Minghao share a sleeping spot. Regardless, Junhui wouldn’t want him to hide his emotions, no matter how much it hurts him to see Minghao like this.

From the moment he watched the first tear hit Minghao's cheek, Junhui’s taken it upon himself to soothe him. 

Whenever Minghao cries now, Junhui will carefully climb into his lap, prop his arms up against Minghao’s chest and, as gently as possible with a sandpaper tongue, licks his tears away.

It somehow always makes Minghao talk, which also means more tears, but Junhui is there to catch them before they can fall from his chin.

It was when Minghao could no longer take people refusing to buy his potions straight from him that he came to Wonwoo. The pharmacist was apprehensive, but he let Minghao brew some for him. "Then I'll evaluate them," Wonwoo told Minghao.

“I didn’t sleep for days,” Minghao whispered to Junhui. He strived for perfection, just like he always does, and after a month of handing over potions for Wonwoo to carefully assess, Minghao became Wonwoo's main supplier.

Yet, despite the decent money he now makes, Minghao still only eats once a day.

Junhui noticed immediately. He put on the sternest look he could muster with this face and pointed a paw at the stove to say: please eat more, but Minghao told him he was saving money to buy a place to live. Somewhere a little secluded, small but cosy, where he won’t have to live in fear of eviction. A place he could call his.

But Minghao wouldn’t be able to spend any of his savings if he died of starvation, so Junhui shook his little head and pointed again. 

Whenever this topic comes up, which is often, Minghao always dismisses it with a smile, which means Junhui has to gather all of his strength to keep a serious expression and not give in to the way his heart melts.

But what can a cat realistically do to convince someone to eat?

I could do it if I were human, is a sentiment that flashes in front of his eyes every two seconds of every day. The remaining seconds, Junhui spends trying desperately and relentlessly to turn back to his real body. 

He wants nothing, nothing more than to transform back into his own skin and tell Minghao to buy a proper bed, that he’s allowed to use warm water and that he needs to eat more, but above all, so Junhui can take every sharp object out of Minghao’s hands and stop him from putting more scars on his arm.

But he can’t. His body just refuses to do it, no matter how hard or how often he tries.

Junhui’s stuck, and he fears he might forever be. 

 

✵彡

 

Minghao comes out of the shower with his hair still dripping and a thin shirt sticking to his damp chest. The pyjama pants he wears are too short on him, ending halfway down his legs where they aren’t supposed to, but they’re thankfully a little thick.

After retrieving his wand from his laboratory, he pats over to the couch and squats to spread out today's clothes on the floor. His wand barely sees the light of day, but Junhui is very grateful that Minghao uses it at least sometimes.

Junhui could name a dozen things about this flat that could be improved with just a few simple spells, the most prominent one being Transfiguring the couch into a bed, but there’s no way of communicating this, so the couch unfortunately stays a couch.

Minghao performs a drying spell on himself followed by a cleaning spell on the clothes on the floor. He folds them, puts them on the small pile in the corner of the room, and puts his wand back in the lab.

He grabs a thick blanket from a second pile in a different corner of the room, and fondly looks over at Junhui before the cat shuffles towards the armrest so Minghao can lie down first.

He holds his arms open, and Junhui drinks in the sight of Minghao as he steps onto his chest, where he stretches before lying down. He nuzzles into Minghao’s collarbone, worryingly noticeable against his skin, and Junhui licks it once in a makeshift good night kiss.

Minghao caresses Junhui’s back before throwing the blanket on top of them, careful not to cover Junhui’s head. They huddle closer, trying to get as comfortable as they can get on this ancient piece of furniture, before Minghao places an actual good night kiss between Junhui’s ears.

“Good night, baby.”

Junhui meows in reply. Good night, Minghao.

 

✵彡

 

Though it rarely happened, being pet or picked up by Wonwoo used to make Junhui's entire week. Not only because he desperately wanted it to happen, but also because the pharmacist clearly knew what he was doing. Wonwoo knew where to comfortably hold Junhui as he lifted him from the ground or where exactly to scritch to get Junhui to close his eyes in content. 

Minghao, on the other hand, did not.

Junhui didn't mind at all. Minghao was the first person to actively want to be near him all the time, so he let Minghao test the waters without any fuss. He pet Junhui like you would a dog for a while — it was still nice and Junhui definitely didn’t complain — but on a random Friday night, he suddenly skillfully picked Junhui up. He must have asked Wonwoo for advice. 

Even if he hadn't, Junhui would've kept loving Minghao's clumsy touch. Because it wasn't like Junhui was used to touching humans in his cat form either. 

He lost count of how often he accidentally scratched Minghao from excitement, but after a bit of experimenting on both ends, they've come to a point where they know exactly how to physically comfort one another.

Junhui watches from the couch as Minghao throws a dark green jumper over his head, his hair unbrushed and messy, and how he nearly topples over trying to put his socks on.

He mewls an unintelligible be careful, and Minghao shoots him a grin before beckoning his cat to join him at the front door, where he starts lacing up his boots.

The past week's been a bit colder and the sky has lost most of its color, so Junhui guesses that it must be October. As Minghao puts his arms through the holes of his only robe, Junhui wishes he could tell Minghao to put on a scarf.

He throws his bag over his shoulder so it sits against his lower back, squats, and opens his arms for Junhui to climb into. 

Junhui always lets Minghao decide how he wants to hold him, whether that’d be cradled in his arms like an infant or against his chest with Junhui's head over his shoulder. Minghao chooses the latter today.

It's Junhui's least favorite. Not because it's uncomfortable in any way, but because it forces him to see the nasty looks Minghao receives behind his back. 

Minghao locks the door, pockets the key and starts walking down the stairs. Junhui also guesses it must be early, as the pub is empty except for the owner doing some morning cleaning, and the man stares at Minghao but doesn’t greet him like Minghao did him. 

Junhui scowls at him. It's becoming increasingly more difficult not to hiss at these kinds of people, but he doesn't want to risk anyone reporting the cat for ‘evil behaviour’ and subsequently get Minghao kicked out.

But trust that Junhui will look angry. 

The morning air is crisp, a refreshing change from how musty it is up in Minghao’s flat, and Junhui takes big lungfuls of it. Minghao does open all the windows whenever they’re inside, but the place still smells off at all times. It’s not unbearable, but once you've only been outside for six years, it takes time to get used to.

They enter Diagon Alley, where many more people roam around, and Junhui can feel Minghao’s heart rate pick up against his body. 

Minghao’s face had been in the Daily Prophet for a while, but it wasn’t as if his face wasn't already well known before that. His entire family was made up of Death Eaters. Even his same-aged cousins loved to show off their marks and their commitment to the Dark Arts. 

It made Minghao sick. 

As they walk past a number of shops, parents pull their children closer to themselves in fear. Junhui feels Minghao’s shoulders sag a little, clearly devastated by these endless reactions. He doesn’t even have his wand on him, for God’s sake. 

Minghao’s completely, utterly harmless. 

Junhui snarls at them, because he can do that here, and it always makes Minghao chuckle a little. He runs a grateful hand up and down Junhui’s back as they round the final corner towards Spencer’s Sensational Supermarket, where Minghao has to put Junhui down so he can hold a basket instead. 

Like some professionally-trained dog, Junhui stays by Minghao's side the entire time. He heard Minghao discuss the topic of leashes with Wonwoo once, but Wonwoo assured Minghao that Junhui wouldn’t ever run away, not even for the world. 

And why would he? The world is right here next to him. 

They go to the supermarket once a week, where they always end up arguing. As Minghao turns to walk to the registers, his basket contains just enough food for four days, not six. Like every time, Junhui tries to steer Minghao towards more aisles, begging him to buy more with big, pleading eyes, but Minghao just scratches below his chin and tells Junhui the same thing every time: “Six more months.”

There is a small piece of land in Devon along the River Otter that Minghao's set his eyes on. It’s so small in fact that no one else seems to be interested, but Minghao thinks it’s perfect. He'll be able to conjure the cottage of his dreams onto it.

As of right now, it's already owned by someone else, but because he’s so desperate to sell it, he made a deal with Minghao. If Minghao is able to pay full price in cash by a certain date, the tiny real estate would be all Minghao’s. 

Minghao is looking forward to it so much that he can't wait. He wants to buy it as fast as he can, and to do that, he spends as little money as possible on himself. Once he’s paid his rent, he puts almost everything left of his paycheck in his vault at Gringotts Wizarding Bank. 

And Junhui understands all of this, believes it sounds logical, but Minghao is absurdly thin. Spending a few extra Sickles a week to at least stabilise his weight should not be a luxury, Junhui thinks sadly. 

But, again, he can't communicate his concern.

After Minghao’s paid for his meagre food and bagged it, he happily picks Junhui back up to move on to Dogweed and Deathcap, where he buys potion-making ingredients that Wonwoo doesn’t stock. 

 

✵彡

 

Junhui planned to let Minghao know he wanted to follow him to the ends of the earth, but kept chickening out, afraid he’d been reading all the signs incorrectly. 

At the start of 2004, Minghao would come half an hour before his scheduled meeting with Wonwoo to spend time with Junhui, where they'd sit in an alley next to the apothecary to avoid drawing the attention of any late night shoppers. Minghao always cast warm-up spells on the both of them, as he’d taken the cat away from the warm apothecary walls, but he never actually had to cast it on Junhui. 

He always felt warm around Minghao. 

And there, in that alley, Junhui would sit in Minghao’s lap as he read books. He sometimes whispered the words instead of reading quietly to himself, and Junhui would purr happily to show just how much he appreciated Minghao being there with him.

He only ever read Mandarin books, which made it even more special when Minghao softly read the story out loud. It gave Junhui a sense of peace. It felt like coming home.

So he'd encourage Minghao to speak up by kneading his leg or meowing enthusiastically whenever Minghao started mumbling to himself. He usually got the memo, and would start reading to Junhui. 

But, once that half hour was up, Minghao had to get up, and he’d put Junhui back onto his previous spot before going inside. 

One particular Friday, Junhui sat closer to the door. He looked through the glass and watched Minghao carefully open his briefcase to go over all the different coloured vials with Wonwoo. 

“Oh. He’s looking at you.”

Minghao looked over his shoulder. He gave Junhui a lopsided smile and a little wave.

Junhui, flustered, immediately turned his head. His body grew warmer, perhaps the human somewhere inside of him blushing, and he curled into himself in embarrassment. 

“He likes you a lot,” he heard Wonwoo say, though less clear than before. He used a different tone for Minghao than he did for his customers. Junhui used to think it was because this was a business transaction where Wonwoo was spending the money, but he would later learn that it was because of something entirely else. 

“The feeling is very mutual.”

“He’s a stray.” There was a small pause. “You can, you know… If you’d want to.”

Minghao seemed at a loss for words, or he replied very quietly, and they mechanically finished up the transaction before the Potioneer left the building. He looked for Junhui immediately. 

“Kitty,” he said to Junhui as slowly sank to his knees. He reached for Junhui’s face, one finger gently running along his small head. “Sweet dreams.”

And Junhui knew that he had to make a move to show Minghao what he wanted. So, as Minghao got back up, Junhui did too, and as Minghao walked away from the apothecary, Junhui limped after him and chirped to get his attention. 

Minghao turned, surprised, and then a flash of worry struck his face. “What’s wrong?” 

Junhui hopped towards Minghao’s legs, curling himself around his left one, and meowed as he looked up at him. 

He had no clue how else to portray his desire of going home with Minghao, to no longer have to live on the streets and wait for Minghao to come sit with him in the cold when they could instead be around each other all the time. 

And Minghao, somehow, seemed to understand what Junhui was asking for. 

“Oh, darling…” he said miserably. He put his briefcase down, carefully took Junhui off his leg and knelt back down. “I’d love to take you with me.” He put on a small smile. “You need to understand that I’d really, really love to but I… I can’t. I barely have the resources to take care of myself.”

Junhui meowed again, trying to let him know that he could take care of both himself and Minghao at the same time. He rubbed his face against Minghao’s leg. 

Minghao took his bottom lip between his teeth and nervously looked around. “There’s also… I don’t think you want to be seen with me. My reputation is not…” he trailed off, sighing. 

Junhui shook his head against the material of Minghao’s trousers, not caring one bit about Minghao’s past, whatever it entailed. How kindly Minghao had treated him those past few months when he didn’t have to, told Junhui enough about his character. 

He pet Junhui for a while, calloused hands stroking his fur, until Minghao heaved another sigh. He went to sit on the near-frozen ground and looked directly at Junhui, clearly conflicted.

The cold turned his cheeks and the tip of his nose pink, making him look much younger than Junhui knew he was.

“Dr. Jeon says you’re a really intelligent cat, so I don’t really know if this is ridiculous but… uh. Yeah— uh. Meow once if you understand me.”

Junhui meowed.

He looked shocked at first, then scoffed. “Merlin, Xu Minghao. Of course he’s gonna meow, he’s a cat.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Sorry. That was stupid.” He seemed to look for a new method even though the last one worked perfectly fine. “Raise your… paw? If you understand me. Please.”

The cat slightly lifted his front right paw before putting it back down.

Minghao was genuinely shocked then, and cleared his throat before continuing. “Okay, okay.” He took a deep breath. “Raise your paw for yes, keep it down for no. Does that work for you?”

Junhui raised his paw, putting it down once Minghao’s eyes widened. 

“Wow,” he whispered, baffled. “Alright. So, if I’m guessing correctly, you want to come home with me?”

He raised his paw again, with more enthusiasm this time to really get his point across, and also let it linger longer.

“Are you sure?”

Yes.

“No one likes me around here.”

Junhui tilted his head, not sure how to respond to that.

“Oh, right, sorry. That wasn’t a question. Uh. I just want you to be aware that— that people might… give us looks.”

Junhui is already very much familiar with that, so he’d rather they go through it together. Yes.

“And you still want to come with me?” 

Junhui lifted his paw a final time, then placed it on top of Minghao’s leg, trying to ask him the same question. 

They shared eye contact for a while, Minghao desperately trying to read Junhui. “… If I want you to come home with me?” 

Yes.

Cutely, Minghao lifted a hand similarly to how Junhui raised his. 

Junhui felt himself grow warmer again.

Smiling softly, Minghao opened his arms for Junhui to crawl into before standing up, groaning slightly as he did so, then blindly reached for his briefcase. “Let’s go home then.” 

 

✵彡

 

It’s a Sunday, the only day Minghao doesn’t spend all day cooped up in his laboratory, so they’re lazing around on the couch. 

Minghao has one hand under his head while the other holds up a book. His right ankle sits comfortably on top of his left knee as Junhui lies just as comfortably spread out on Minghao’s chest. 

Junhui's heavy, he knows he is, but Minghao doesn’t push him off. Ever. He even occasionally removes his hand from below his head to give Junhui a fond scratch. 

Thankfully, Minghao too must have gotten sick of the smell of the flat, so a good chunk of yesterday was spent figuring out how to Transfigure a random piece of rock he found outside into a scented candle, but he managed to do it, as it’s currently burning on the small table.

It smells like lavender, which reminds Junhui of the oil his mother used to rub into his neck when he was little, and where it should maybe stir something upsetting within him, he finds it has a soothing effect.

It reminds him of his old family, but with his new family. 

He still thinks about them often, wonders where they live and what they might be doing. If it really is October then Fengjun’s birthday is coming up, his fourteenth, and Junhui makes a mental note to look for a calendar somewhere so he knows exactly on what day to look up at the sky and wish his brother a happy birthday.

Then, at some point, with Minghao’s hand softly running through his long fur, he falls asleep.

Being a street cat meant being constantly uncomfortable and getting barely any sleep. It got a little better once he found the apothecary, but he was still spending his nights outside on the cold ground.

The first night Minghao brought him home, he planned to sleep on the floor, but Minghao brought him onto the couch with him almost immediately. Not on his chest like this, but at his feet. 

They ended up pressed up together anyway. 

It was arguably the best sleep Junhui’d had in years, maybe in all of his life, and unless Minghao sent him away, Junhui wanted to sleep close to him until the end of time, however long that may be.

Minghao pointed out something similar a few days ago. He knows from Wonwoo that Junhui has to be at least four years old, as he started coming to the apothecary in 2000, but that’s all. 

Junhui himself has been thinking about his age as well, but in an entirely different way. He’s twenty-four now, past the life expectancy of a Norwegian Forest Cat. An Animagus should have the life expectancy of a normal human, but now that he’s been stuck as a cat for seven years, he isn’t sure whether that still applies. 

Surely there must be side effects to a prolonged stay in animal form.

“Let’s try and stay together for as long as we can hold on, yeah?” he asked Junhui that day, looking at his cat sitting at the other end of the table.

Junhui raised his paw.

 

✵彡

 

It became clear really quickly that Minghao really did have very little resources, but Junhui had been warned. He, thus, wasn’t surprised to hear that once the small container of dry food ran out, Minghao had no money left to buy refills until his meeting with Wonwoo on Friday.

He was pretty serious about not wanting to feed Junhui junk and neither did he want to separate Junhui from Wonwoo and his “cat friends”, so he told Junhui that he could still go to the apothecary at three every day if he wanted to. 

Junhui, unable to say that ramen won’t hurt him but also not wanting Minghao to have to share his already impossibly small meal, agreed to it.

Minghao carried him to the end of Knockturn Alley, where he suddenly put Junhui down and told him he’d wait for him here. 

Indignant, Junhui didn’t move, unaware that Minghao was trying to protect him. But, as he would come to find out, Minghao did everything with Junhui in mind. He quietly told Junhui he was afraid wizards and witches in Diagon Alley would hurt him or take him home to “free” him from Minghao’s supposed demonic shackles. 

So, with a heavy heart, Junhui left Minghao in Knockturn Alley.

He got to the apothecary right as Wonwoo took his break, and the pharmacist greeted him the same way he always did, even now that he was Minghao’s adopted cat. Wonwoo carefully fed each of the cats the treats that he, to that day, still brought with him.

To the annoyance of the other cats, Wonwoo had Junhui stay around a little longer to also give him some of his lunch.

“You didn’t run away, did you?” he asked as he held out a piece of egg.

Junhui frowned up at the human before taking the food. Stupid question. 

Wonwoo hummed, pleased. He held out a piece of chicken next. “… Does he treat you well?”

The answering system he set up with Minghao wasn’t going to work with Wonwoo, as he wouldn’t know what meant what, so Junhui hoped a gleeful meow was convincing enough of an answer.

As heartwarming as having Wonwoo worry for his safety was, it came from a place of distrust for someone who had been nothing but kind to Junhui.

It was ludicrous to Junhui how long everyone’s hatred went on. He couldn’t believe that even six years after winning the war, people still wanted Minghao dead. Unlike the other Death Eaters who either went on the run or were sent to Azkaban, Minghao was allowed back into society once it was proven that he hadn't killed the boy or all those Muggles he was accused of killing. He’d never ever pointed his wand at another wizard. 

No one agreed with the Ministry’s decision of letting Minghao go, and they’re still making him suffer for the choices he was forced to make as a teenager. 

“I’ll give you something extra to take home with you,” Wonwoo said before getting up and entering his shop, walking back out two minutes later with a small plastic bag filled with treats.

Junhui mewled enthusiastically, then carefully held the bag between his teeth as he limped back to Knockturn Alley, where Minghao lit up with relief when he spotted his cat. 

He knelt down to take the bag from Junhui. “Wow…" he breathed. "Did you get this from Dr. Jeon?”

Junhui lifted his paw. 

“That is very kind of him.”

Though Junhui was used to spending all his time in front of the apothecary, Junhui hadn’t missed it during the few days he wasn’t there. He did realise, however, that he enjoyed Wonwoo’s company and his lunches, and that going there a few days a week wouldn’t hurt.

Yet, on Friday that same week, the thing Minghao had been so terrified of happened. 

Junhui walked slowly, trying to put as little pressure on his left hind leg as possible, and looked over his shoulder to find Minghao leaning against the side of an empty pub, giving the cat a smile and a cute wave. 

Minghao was able to watch Junhui all the way up until a faraway corner he needed to round to get to the apothecary, and the cat looked over his shoulder a second time to find Minghao still following him with his eyes, sending him another wave.

Smiling to himself, Junhui rounded the corner, but his happy demeanour immediately collapsed in on itself once two unknown hands suddenly gripped onto his body and yanked him off the ground.  

“Got it!” 

Junhui let out a loud screech. He tried to clamber and wiggle out of the person’s grasp, but whoever had grabbed him held onto him with all their strength. 

He’d had nightmares about this before, about Snatchers finding him and getting back at him by beating him to a pulp and leaving him for dead.

“I told you it would be easy to catch! It’s huge.”

Junhui stopped fighting his captor for a second just to get a look at them, and a guy Junhui had never seen before grinned proudly at his friend.

“Don’t worry,” he said as he went from holding Junhui in a painful death grip to forcing him into his arms like a baby. He kept a hand against Junhui’s belly to keep him still. “We got you. You won’t have to be around that lunatic anymore.”

Junhui's face slackened in shock. Did they think they were doing him a service?

Junhui was about to scream as loud as he could to alert Minghao, but he was already speeding around the corner, nearly toppling over as he came to a stuttering halt.

“Ah! Look who it is,” said the guy holding a writhing Junhui. “We got your little pet.”

Minghao never exercised, and paired with the fact that he was barely eating, the sprinting was clearly taking a toll on him. He had a hard time regulating his breathing, keeping himself upright by leaning an arm against a pole. 

They were somehow kind enough to give Minghao time to compose himself, and he was eventually able to stand up straighter. Junhui had never seen Minghao look this afraid. 

“Xu,” said the guy not holding Junhui, nodding once towards Minghao’s pocket, “take out your wand.”

Minghao stiffened. He had a long history of people thinking he was a man of mindless violence, like every other Death Eater was, and it still persisted. Accusations that had long been disproven still lingered everywhere. 

Hive-mindedly casting someone out is much easier than giving them a second chance, Junhui is shown every day.

“I don’t have it on me,” Minghao answered calmly, “and I’m not here for a fight.” He outstretched his arm. “My cat, please.”

“You mean your hostage?”

“No,” he replied, taking a step closer at the same time the guy holding Junhui took one back. “Like I said, I’m not here for a fight, if that’s what you’re looking for.” His gaze hardened. “But I’m not going to ask twice.”

And he didn’t need to, as Junhui was finally able to properly move his head and plunged his sharp teeth into his abducter’s arm. Immediately, he was let go, and plummeted to the ground. 

Junhui landed on four paws, making him want to scream out in pain, but he ignored every flash of horror that struck his bad leg as he sprinted over to Minghao and dove into his open arms. 

“He corrupted the cat!” he shouted, holding onto his bloodied arm. “It’s evil!”

A small crowd had formed at that point, all standing either next to or behind the two unfamiliar young men, disdainful looks on each of their faces. 

“Original,” Minghao muttered, straightening back up. “In case you didn't know, no one likes to be held against their will.” 

To get that point across even further, Junhui properly cuddled into Minghao’s arms, clearly happy and comfortable.

Someone scoffed. “I bet you’ve drugged it. Don’t you have that—” she flapped a hand, “—weird laboratory up in that pub?”

Despite Minghao’s calm exterior, his heart was beating violently against his chest. When Junhui looked up, he could tell Minghao’s eyes were watering. 

“And there is no way a normal cat would act this clingy…” another person pointed out, gaining the agreement of the crowd. “You did drug it!”

Minghao gulped, but tried his best to keep his feelings off his face. “It doesn’t matter what I say, does it..?” He turned, but before he could make his way back home, he looked over his shoulder. “Do not ever touch him again.” He scanned the crowd. “Any of you.”

As he walked away, pulling Junhui closer and whispering apologies to him, the guy who'd grabbed Junhui spoke up a final time.

“Or what?” he yelled at Minghao. “You're gonna kill us too?”

 

✵彡

 

Junhui’s been walking around with a broken leg for seven years, and he’s pretty sure there’s nothing left of his bones. 

It’s not impossible to walk, as he still has three other legs that will keep him upright, but it's extremely uncomfortable.

Minghao noticed the limping from the very beginning, but once Junhui was no longer a street cat, he asked if he could take a closer look. 

Wonwoo wanted to as well, at the start of their cat-human friendship, but Junhui was too scared to be cast serious spells on. Because what if a healing spell worked, but would permanently impede his ability to ever turn back into his human form? Or what if, if he did somehow turn back into a human one day, his left leg would remain a cat leg? 

He didn’t want to risk it.

But when Minghao asked, it had been his sixth year as a cat, and with very little hope of ever being able to change back, Junhui let Minghao inspect it. 

Ironically, it was Minghao who was scared this time. It turned out he hadn’t cast any spells on animate objects since having to turn a spider into a bowl, and because of the war and the consequences he still faced because of his actions, he didn’t exactly want to further tarnish his reputation by accidentally casting the wrong spell or have his anxiety affect his magic.

So the only thing Minghao could offer him was a healing potion. He's been giving Junhui a tiny drop every day; about 1/64 of a teaspoon. It’s the smallest dose Minghao's willing to give him, afraid anything more might upset his organs as the potion is obviously not made for cats. 

Junhui doesn’t think it would have any detrimental effects, but Minghao is the Potioneer among the two, so he gratefully takes what he’s given. 

By this point, Junhui thinks he’s consumed a full glass bottle of it, and though it’s helped with the pain, going from excruciating to slightly less excruciating, his leg still hasn’t healed. 

He doubts it will ever fully be.

If he had been a cat in the Muggle world, the vet would have likely given him a cast, but casts somehow don't exist in the Wizarding World. But even if they had, Junhui would have probably refused, worried people might think Minghao caused his injury.

He suddenly calls Junhui from the kitchen, where he’s patiently waiting with a dropper in his hands. 

Because Junhui can’t jump onto the counter, Minghao goes to sit cross-legged on the floor and asks Junhui to stick out his tongue. 

Despite the alarming amount of salamander blood that goes into Wiggenweld, the honey water gives it a sweet kick. 

“Good job~” Minghao coos as Junhui takes his tongue back into his mouth. He runs a finger against the side of Junhui’s face, and earns a lick to his skin. “I’ve been thinking about increasing your dosage to two drops, how do you feel about that? How do you feel in general, actually? Any side effects you’ve noticed?”

Junhui tilts his head, not sure how to answer all those questions at once. 

Minghao chuckles. “You’re still limping, so it hasn’t fully healed, but does it feel better?”

He lifts his paw. 

“How do you feel in general? Meow if good and…” He scratches his eyebrow as he thinks. “Don’t meow if not good.”

Junhui meows.

Minghao lets out a breath of relief. “I’m happy to hear that,” he says quietly, letting Junhui step onto him and curl into him like a bird would in its nest.

He laughs cutely, free and giggly, and because Junhui barely hears it, he tries to savour the sound. Puts it in his metaphorical pocket for safekeeping. 

Minghao gently strokes his back, his nails a little longer than usual. “I’ll ask Dr. Jeon if it would be okay. He knows more about cats than I do, after all.”

And it’s these things that make Junhui’s heart flutter— just how careful Minghao is with him and how serious he is about taking care of him; putting Junhui first no matter what, even if it isn’t always what Junhui thinks is best.  

Junhui guesses it must be around eight months since he’s officially become Minghao’s pet, almost a year since they first met, and within those months, Junhui knows that he’s fallen unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Minghao.

 

✵彡

 

Minghao wakes up at eight every day, no need for an alarm, but as the human pushes himself off the couch and gets ready to start his day, Junhui spends a few more hours with his eyes closed before eventually going to the laboratory as well. 

It’s essentially just an empty room with a large, round table, Junhui’s pillow, and a bunch of bottled ingredients lying around on the floor.

The flat came mostly unfurnished except for the kitchen, a mattress-less weak bed frame that he transfigured into said table, the age-old couch and a dining table, and because he hasn’t added any more, Minghao puts all of his belongings on the floor. 

It’s an organised mess, as Minghao likes to put it. 

Junhui lies down on the pillow, the material a bit too stiff for his liking, but he pays it no mind as he diverts all of his attention to Minghao. 

As he works, he always wears a large, black cloak to prevent any staining on his actual clothes. It would make him look a bit dark and ominous if he wasn't smiling at Junhui every three or so minutes. It’s almost like he’s checking if his cat is still there, like he still cannot believe Junhui wanted to come home with him in the first place.  

But Junhui wanted nothing more, and like Wonwoo had said, the cat won’t ever leave. 

“Darling,” Minghao suddenly calls, making Junhui perk up. “I’m gonna be working on Rat Tonic and it smells really acidic. I’d rather you not breathe it in.”

I don’t want you to have to breathe that in either, Junhui thinks, and Minghao seems to somehow read his mind and opens the window behind him. 

Junhui stretches his body, and because Minghao purposely never closes the door so Junhui can go in and out as he pleases, leaves.

“Thank you,” Minghao adds as Junhui is halfway through the door. “We’ll go out after. Promise.”

And they do, about three hours later, for their usual grocery run. Minghao leaves his laboratory without Junhui noticing, and he wakes his cat by softly touching him, moving his finger from his nose to the top of his head. 

It hurts, sometimes, having Minghao be as affectionate as he is. It tugs at Junhui’s heartstrings and wets his eyes.

Because however much he loves being Minghao’s cat, he wants to be Minghao’s lover.

He dreams about it almost every night, about putting on his own set of pyjamas, joining Minghao on the couch and laughing because they don’t fit but still making it work somehow. He would kiss Minghao good night rather than lick his collarbone, walk hand in hand towards the supermarket, cook for him, and even help him with his potions. 

Junhui'll wake up in the middle of the night whimpering, and has to remind himself to be grateful for what he has. He’s safe, warm, and in Minghao’s arms, so he shouldn’t upset himself with pointless wishful thinking. 

He’s a cat, and that’s not going to change. 

Minghao puts on his boots, fastens his robe and picks Junhui up when he joins him at the door.

The lavender scent lingers a little even though the candle’s completely melted, and Minghao talks excitedly about his plans to make a new candle tomorrow, going over different scents he likes. 

Junhui chirps at every option, just as excited. If only they made candles of Minghao's own scent.

Minghao learned not to look into the windows of shops they pass, but Junhui always watches curiously. A lot of them have gotten a new look after the war, and he wonders if they look different on the inside as well. He’d like to have a look at Flourish and Blotts specifically, just for that nostalgic feeling, but he’s not going to inconvenience Minghao by somehow communicating that he wants to go inside. 

And, frankly, he doesn’t dare go in alone. 

After the first capturing incident there thankfully hasn’t been a second, and he believes it’s because he and Minghao have since never stepped foot outside the flat if they aren’t together. 

It’s nice, knowing that they’re safer now, but it’s also heartbreaking. 

They shouldn’t have to live like this. 

Minghao carefully puts Junhui down, takes a basket from the stack and walks over to the fruit section at Junhui’s pace. It’s admittedly very slow, but Minghao never makes a point of it. It annoys the people walking behind them, though, but Minghao lets all the curse words fly past his head as he smiles down at Junhui, encouraging him to pick a speed that’s comfortable for him and his leg. 

As they’re hovering over packaged meat, Minghao turns to him with an excited grin. “Dr. Jeon is upping my salary a bit, so let’s treat ourselves to something good, hmm? What do you like?”

Junhui looks up at Minghao with wide eyes. A sense of pride fills him at Minghao finally doing something for himself, then meows happily.

 

✵彡

 

They meet Wonwoo under the moonlight, and Junhui waits patiently as Minghao unloads the potions from his bag and gets paid for his work. Wonwoo not only gives Minghao more Galleons, he also hands him the treats he would have normally given Junhui if he still came to the apothecary daily. 

The cat listens in as Minghao and Wonwoo discuss the dosage of Wiggenweld, and the pharmacist concludes that it should be fine if he gives Junhui some more. 

They continue to discuss other potion-related matters, and while they talk, Minghao positions his body in such a way that he can keep an eye on Junhui looking at them through the glass door.

At one point, Minghao suddenly walks towards him mid-conversation, and Junhui curiously looks up at him.

“Hey there. Dr. Jeon says he misses you,” he whispers, a soft smile on his face. Minghao isn't jealous. He knows Junhui is his. “You’re allowed to come inside if I carry you. Do you want to?”

Minghao's warm-up spell is still in full effect, but Junhui much prefers being inside, so he lifts his paw and lets Minghao pick him up.

Wonwoo sends Junhui a small wave as Minghao walks back to the counter. “It’s really impressive how strong your arms have become.”

Minghao huffs through his nose. “I stir potions for a living, they’ve been strong.” He looks down at Junhui. “But if you’re making a jab at his weight, then yes, he’s heavy.”

“Right.” Wonwoo pushes his round glasses up his nose. “You know... I realised I’ve never actually thanked you for taking him in.”

“Oh,” says Minghao, clearly surprised. “You never had to.”

Wonwoo knows that’s true, so he leaves that comment be. “I think he used to be a house cat, based on how well-behaved he is. It’s why I asked the owners of the other cats if they would like to adopt him, but none of them wanted to. He— Yue, also didn’t really seem very interested in them.” He looks from Junhui to Minghao. “I think he might have subconsciously been waiting for you.”

It’s not true, at least not the part where he’s been waiting for Minghao. As the months in front of the apothecary faded into years, Junhui had no plans of becoming someone’s pet. He didn’t even consider it. All he wanted and all he could think about was turning back to human.

However, what is true about Wonwoo’s statement, is that once Junhui met Minghao and had completely lost hope of ever returning to his real body, he’d been waiting for Minghao to want him. 

“You seem happier.”

Immediately, Minghao scoffs.

“I know people haven’t changed.” He pauses, trying to think of how to put his thoughts into the correct words. “But you have someone now. That’s by your side.”

It’s a very lame thing to say, Junhui thinks, because while he tries to be there for Minghao in every way he can, he knows it’ll never compare to what a human being could do for him. 

Minghao deserves a person, and Wonwoo knows that, but there is no one wanting to take that position. No one wants to be as simple as a friend. Even Wonwoo prefers to keep him at a distance, like they’re nothing but business partners who otherwise don’t know anything about each other.

Minghao doesn’t reply, probably thinking exactly what Junhui is thinking, so Wonwoo clears his throat. “Mingyu will be here soon…”

It changes the air in the room immediately, and Minghao nods stiffly. “I’ll see you next Friday.” He takes a breath. “Please send Mingyu my regards.”

But Junhui knows Minghao never gets any in return.

He barely ever talks about his time at Hogwarts, and whenever he does, he has to stop halfway through because he can no longer get any words past the lump in his throat. Still, Junhui knows a few things, and Minghao joins the Wizarding World in punishing him for those exact things.

It’s small sometimes, how he endangers himself. If it were anyone else, some of Minghao’s personal punishments could be seen as accidental, but Minghao is too intelligent not to be aware of what he’s doing. 

He owns very little clothes, none of which are really weather appropriate, never breathable enough for the summer or thick enough for the wintertime. The latter should be easier to tackle, as he could simply layer items, but he doesn’t. Rather, he risks a heat stroke or freezing to death. 

As for t-shirts, he doesn’t own a single one, and even if he did, he would never wear them. After Voldemort had been defeated for the final time, the Dark Mark faded to a scar, no longer burning, but with no possible way of removing it. 

Minghao, however, still gives it his best. 

His forearm is littered with scars, but no matter how deep or how much he digs into his skin, the Dark Mark does not disappear. Minghao knows this, everyone carrying the mark knows it, but he can’t seem to resist any time there’s a sharp object in his vicinity. He even tried carving the whole thing out once.

On top of that, he Transfigured the bedframe into a table, which tells Junhui he has the skill to transform the couch into a comfortable bed to get some good rest or duplicate the food he buys to avoid starvation, but he just doesn’t do it.

The absolute bare minimum, is what Junhui started to call it. That's what Minghao does to keep himself alive. 

 

✵彡

 

Junhui’s favourite day of the week is Wednesday, as after six o’clock, when Minghao has rounded up his workday, they Apparate to Haverigg Beach.

It has plenty of room for roaming around in solitude, but it’s the tranquil water specifically that attracts Minghao, and now also Junhui, as it essentially contradicts their lives. It’s known as an escapist beach, one you turn to if you want to disconnect from the chaos of life, and that’s exactly what they do.

Minghao doesn’t ever bother bringing a blanket, as he only has one and he’ll just clean himself with a spell later, so he sits on the sand with Junhui perched on his lap as they slowly watch the sunset. 

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Minghao asked him the first time he took Junhui here, at the height of winter and its unbearable cold. His hands felt like ice as they stroked Junhui’s fur. His nose and cheeks were red and his body was shivering, but they stayed there for a long time.

Junhui wanted to leave the second they got there, not only because he couldn’t have been more bored but also because he didn’t want to become a cat popsicle, however, as spring replaced winter and the cold steadily disappeared, he began seeing what Minghao saw.

It has taught Junhui patience. He used to possess not an ounce of it, and would thus have never sat around to watch a star go down, but he finds it peaceful now. 

He’ll sit next to Minghao in the sand sometimes, but rather than squinting at the star above their heads, he’ll look at his own next to him.

Minghao laughs whenever he does that, petting Junhui’s head and pointing away from them. “The sun is over there.”

And Junhui wants nothing more than to be able to say but you’re the brightest thing in my life.

But he can't.

 

✵彡

 

The transition from summer to spring was a smooth one, even bringing some actual sunny weather. Minghao Apparated the two of them to a big park Junhui had never been to before, but based on how the people around them acted and dressed, he could tell it was a Muggle park.

Minghao put him down as soon as they popped up, hidden from any Muggles, just to shake off the general uneasiness that comes with Apparition, then picked him back up.

They walked around for about an hour with Junhui in Minghao’s arms, and the atmosphere was completely different from everything Junhui had experienced these past months. People that passed them dipped their heads at Minghao, a polite affair, and some even cooed at Junhui and giggled to their friends about how cute they looked together.

It was, quite literally, a different world.

Junhui didn't have to wonder why Minghao never decided to start a new life among Muggles, as that would be a bit of an easy escape and Minghao doesn’t do easy. There’s also his job, one that he cannot pursue unless he does the Muggle equivalent, but he has no Muggle education. So, other than not being considered a rotten apple over here, he’d probably not be much happier. 

But he did appear happy, walking around flowers and trees while humming a song as the soft, end-of-summer breeze blew through strands of auburn. 

Junhui didn't really know how to express his contentment, so all he could do was meow and look up.

Minghao stopped humming, halting his step. “What’s— oh.” His worried look got replaced by a wide smile. “Aah~ You’re enjoying yourself?” 

Junhui meowed again. 

“Good to hear, baby.” He looked at the serenity in front of them and took a deep breath. “It’s nice here.”

But that final bit of warmth appeared to just have been the calm before the storm, as a cold wind rushed through the Wizarding World when they returned.

And it persisted. 

The first bit of lightning that punctures Minghao’s chest strikes on their weekly grocery run. 

Nothing seems out of place at first. They’re walking to the supermarket while Minghao quietly talks to Junhui, who’s been trying his best to articulate his meows a little better in an attempt to make them sound more like words. 

It’s by no means legible, but he hopes he’ll improve over time so that maybe, in the future, he’ll be able to somehow verbally communicate that Minghao has to treat himself better. 

With a small groan, Minghao squats to put Junhui on the floor. He gets a basket, but just as they’re about to actually enter the store, someone stops them. 

She must be about forty, maybe a little older, and points her wand to a sign Junhui hadn’t seen or ever has seen before. They’ve been coming to this place every week for months, so surely he would have noticed a large red sign saying No Cats Allowed. 

Minghao shares a quick look with Junhui.

“Can you not read?” she asks Minghao as she taps the sign for emphasis. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Minghao staggers back at the sudden demand. “Uh. May I ask the reason for this sudden rule?”

She answers him immediately, almost like she’s practised it. “Cats are dangerous animals and we’ve noticed that whenever someone brings a cat, our sales go down.”

Junhui curls himself around Minghao’s leg, both to show that he’s harmless and so he’s at a better angle to jump her in case she starts pointing her wand at Minghao.

“Right…” he says warily. “What is your definition of dangerous, exactly?” Minghao jerks his chin at a man looking over a row of vegetables, a huge bird on his shoulder. “Because that animal is about twice the size of an average cat.”

She folds her arms over her chest. “It’s clearly a very calm creature.”

He motions to Junhui. “So is he.”

There is a sinister sort of glint in her eyes that tells Junhui that the store doesn't care about their sales at all, and a cold shiver runs through his body as she says, “That’s not what we’ve been told.”

It feels like a punch to the stomach.

Minghao just stands there for a second, frozen, as he must be taking in the fact that he’s being personally targeted. A scoff leaves his mouth and he starts slowly shaking his head. 

And because he is unbelievably kind, he carefully puts his basket back with the others before bending down to pick Junhui up. 

Minghao breathes heavily, chest lifting up with the strength it takes for him not to fall apart. “Have a good rest of your day then.”

He turns, and with Junhui in his arms, leaves the supermarket.

Junhui looks over his shoulder and sticks his tongue out at the building. He most definitely would have given it the finger too had he been able to properly separate and curl them.

But halfway home, Junhui realises that this means Minghao won’t go grocery shopping, and he really, really cannot have that, because if Minghao doesn't get groceries then he won’t eat at all. 

Despite the severity of the situation, he has half a mind left not to create a scene in the middle of Diagon Alley by, say, diving to the floor and demanding that Minghao go back without him, so he impatiently waits until they’re home.

Once they have entered the pub and walked up the stairs, Junhui awkwardly clambers out of Minghao’s arms and plants himself firmly in front of the door, sternly looking up at a very confused Minghao.

He raises a paw and points down the stairs.

Minghao quickly looks behind them, afraid Junhui is pointing to someone following them, but the hallway is empty. He turns back looking more confused than before. 

Junhui tries to emulate the motion of eating, which is hard and frustrating to do as a cat, then points down the stairs again.

There’s a beat of silence, but then Minghao’s shoulders sag as a lightbulb turns on. He smiles softly as he puts a hand on the back of Junhui’s head and strokes his fur. “You’re saying you want me to go back by myself.”

Junhui raises his paw in the way they both know means yes.  

“I suppose you’re right,” Minghao sighs. He dusts off his pants and adjusts his coat but otherwise doesn’t move. He seems to consider what to do.

To provide some assistance, Junhui meows encouragingly, making Minghao chuckle. “You’re cute.” 

And what he does next has Junhui completely flare up with heat. Minghao squats, and puts his face so close to Junhui’s that their noses touch. 

He adorably scrunches his face and rubs it against Junhui’s. 

It’s so extremely affectionate and so incredibly sudden that Junhui feels like all oxygen has been knocked out of him. His entire body feels hot, and he knows that had he been human, he would've been bright red. 

“I’ll go,” Minghao decides as he draws back slightly. “But it feels wrong to go there now that you’ve been—” he grimaces, “—banned.”

Junhui shakes his head and puts a paw on Minghao’s boot. He doesn’t know exactly what Minghao will translate that to, but he means that it can’t be helped and that he needs Minghao to get groceries for both their sakes. 

“Let’s get you inside then,” Minghao says as he unlocks the door for Junhui, who goes to sit on the mat to show that he’ll be there upon Minghao's return like he’ll always be if Minghao needs to go out alone in the future.

Please be safe, is what he wills his noises to say as Minghao’s worried face is the last thing he sees before the door closes.

 

✵彡

 

Thunder comes and won’t leave. Heavy rain pours down on them, further depressing their town. 

Routinely, Minghao goes to get potion ingredients right after their grocery run, but after what went down yesterday, he decided to postpone it to today.

When Minghao returned with a bag of groceries in hand, he looked a little paler than usual but otherwise unharmed, and the heart that beat in Junhui’s throat the entire time finally found some peace. 

The ingredient shop is fascinating enough to make up for its horrible smell; a mixture of bad eggs and other rotted food. Barrels of slimy stuff stand on the floor whereas bright powders line the walls while bundles of feathers, strings of fangs, and snarled claws hang from the ceiling. 

Minghao brings a written list of ingredients each time, because Wonwoo doesn’t ask for the same potions every week, and the clerk snatches the list from him and disappears to go grab them from the back.

Junhui thinks this is odd, as the employees always grab the ingredients from the shelves in the actual shop, and he looks up to find Minghao looking back at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“Strange,” he mutters, but doesn’t seem to further question it once the man returns with the right bottles. Junhui’s seen and heard more potion-related stuff in the past eight months than he had during six years of Potion class, and he thinks it’s pretty cool how he can identify an ingredient by just its packaging now. 

Minghao pays, spending every Knut he has left, then happily walks the two of them home to get started. 

He watches Minghao change out of his robe and into his dark cloak, and he leaves the door open for Junhui to join him. Minghao carefully unpacks his purchases and places them on the table before gathering other necessities.

He looks content like this, excited, and Junhui smiles to himself knowing that there’s at least something on this stupid floating rock that makes Minghao feel better. 

The cat lies down on the pillow, and despite its ever-present stiffness and Junhui's will to keep watching Minghao, he falls asleep. He doesn’t usually dream during the day, but he finds himself slipping into one soon after his eyes close. 

Almost like he’s dunked his head into a Pensieve, a memory materialises before him. 

He’s running around his dorm room like a headless chicken, struggling to find all parts of his uniform. He hops on one foot as he tries to get a shoe onto the other, he’s put his sweater on inside-out and his tie still hangs around his neck. He’s never been particularly good at working that thing, but in his haste, he definitely can’t get it right.

He moves to the mirror to get a better look at it, and makes eye contact with himself.

It’s the first time in seven years that his dreams involve a mirror, and his gut twists and turns at the sight of the face that used to be his.

He’s staring at his sixteen-year-old self, almost a decade younger than he is now. He doesn’t get much time to dwell on his appearance as dream-him diverts his eyes to the tie he still needs to fix, and Junhui wakes up with a knot in his throat.

He curls further into himself, upset, but does his best to hide it from Minghao. He tries not to think about his human self much, but he can’t help it. He isn’t meant to be a cat, not in this way. He’s supposed to be 180 something centimetres instead of 30 something, with actual fingers instead of the sand-coloured paws he has to groom. 

Sometimes, the thought that none of this would have happened had he not been a curious little kid trying to keep a leaf in his mouth hits him, but he also knows that if he hadn’t become an Animagus, there is a very high chance that he would be dead right now.

He encountered Snatchers on both multiple occasions and locations, and he doubts anyone’s forgotten about his train stunt. They might have all had a vendetta against him, exchanging pictures of him like a wanted fugitive that they wanted captured dead or alive. And at the time, he supposes he was a fugitive. 

A criminal. 

Like Wonwoo, they could have thrown him in Azkaban, but Junhui knows they would have tortured the hell out of him instead. He made a fool out of them. There is no doubt in his mind that they would have wanted revenge. 

So, instead, Junhui thinks about what his life would have been like had he not had magical properties inside of him. He’d have gone to a regular school, hopefully gotten accepted into a good college and hired for a job he’s passionate about. He might have found love on the way, just like he has now, but a love he could actually pursue. 

He sighs, not any less upset. 

Despite Minghao’s current situation, it’s not impossible to think that in the future, he’ll find someone to love him, whether romantically or platonically, and Junhui will have to sit and watch as Minghao shares his laughter with someone else. 

And he will do so, sit and watch, because no matter how much it hurts, he won’t leave Minghao’s side unless he asks. 

Maybe, in a few years, Minghao will move to an entirely different part of the Wizarding World, away from watchful eyes, and meet someone that will take care of him like he deserves to be cared for. 

And it doesn’t matter how much Junhui wants to be that person, someone to hold Minghao, to help him around and brush his hair out of his eyes, because it’ll never be him. 

 

✵彡

 

A few days later, on a Wednesday afternoon, Junhui is pulled from his nap by a large explosion. 

He instantly looks over at the hall and watches with alarmed eyes as smoke comes out of the open laboratory door. 

Immediately jumping off the couch and skillfully landing on his good legs, he sprints towards the room. 

He sees nothing at first, but then he hears Minghao quietly cast a spell and the smoke starts slowly disappearing into the tip of his wand.

Then the object is dropped, clattering to the hard floor, and Junhui can finally properly see Minghao as he drops to his knees. 

Whatever he was brewing clearly blew up, as the cauldron lies in melted pieces on the floor and the potion sticks to the walls and ceiling. 

Taking a closer look, Junhui notices that the potions Minghao already bottled also burst, covering the floor in goo as well. Junhui isn’t sure what happened, but he does know that Minghao is so talented at potion-making that there is no way he messed up this many of them. Junhui can barely believe he’d have ruined one. 

He tentatively pats over towards the boy, careful not to step into any glass or fluids, and it’s then that he sees that Minghao is staring numbly at the wall, his eyes a dark void. That is, until he realises Junhui’s here, who he turns to with a look of despair.

Minghao's deep breath feels like it echoes through the room and through Junhui's body, rattling every part of him. He reaches out, winding his arms around his cat and silently getting up from the floor. 

Unlike Junhui, Minghao does not pay attention to where he places each foot, not caring if he steps into glass, then robotically puts Junhui back onto the couch. 

“Don’t go in there again today, you might get hurt,” he tells Junhui quietly, heartsore. He is clearly deeply hurt, but Junhui still hasn’t figured out what exactly just went down in there. Maybe he did mess them all up and this is his way of expressing his anger. It just seems highly unlikely to Junhui. “I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be back soon.”

But Junhui knows that showering during the day really means turning on the faucet and sitting in the shower to cry.

He meows sadly, trying to get more words out of Minghao, anything that will explain the cause of multiple explosions at once, but Minghao makes his way towards the bathroom. Not two seconds later, the shower is turned on. 

Junhui gets off the couch anyway, forcing the laboratory door further open with his paws before he squints at the scene. He’s obviously not a detective by any means, but something is very, very off. His nose is immediately drawn to the first broken bottle, which smells exactly like Junhui's messed up potion during his sixth-year. Putrid. 

Minghao's made this particular one, a cure for garish pink blended poison, loads of times. There is no way he put in the wrong ingredients, especially with how closely he monitors everything. 

The next bit of goo Junhui looks at erupted from a glass bottle reading Regerminating Potion, but its usual golden colour is nowhere to be found. Instead, it’s blue. He keeps examining the exploded bits of Minghao’s work, and it’s only once he’s reached the table that he realises what happened. 

It’s the second slap to Minghao’s face this week. 

He was brewing a Forgetfulness Potion, and the small ingredient bag with Valerian sprigs written on it no longer holds Valerian sprigs. Instead, there's leaves of burning nettles. 

Junhui distinctly remembers seeing the correct plant, and when he looks over at the vial of Lethe River Water, it no longer shines brightly. It looks like dirty dishwater.

He carefully inspects the other ingredients Minghao bought earlier that week, and finds that none of the bags hold what they did when Minghao brought them home. Junhui then recalls the clerk going into the back to retrieve the items, and Junhui thought he was just being impatient, but it really had taken the man a long time to put together Minghao’s order. 

They've all been Transfigured and the spells wore off, Junhui concludes with a sag of his shoulders. Minghao was given the wrong ingredients on purpose. 

Someone wanted to sabotage his work. 

Junhui leaps into action, still careful not to hurt himself, and runs over to the bathroom door.

There are a number of things he can find inside, some far worse than others, but his racing heart calms down when his enhanced cat-hearing catches the sound of Minghao’s muffled cries.

He never goes in when Minghao is actually showering or taking care of other business, as that is none of his business, but he knows none of those things are currently happening. The door hasn’t been fully shut, so Junhui uses his paw to slowly open it, revealing a fully-clothed and completely soaked Minghao. 

Junhui immediately starts looking for blood and thankfully finds none, so he walks over to the open stall. He hates the feeling of wet fur, especially when it’s cold water, but he doesn’t care now. 

He places his head against Minghao’s leg, trying to get his attention. 

Minghao doesn’t say anything as he lifts his head from his drawn knees, eyes red and face puffy.

They look at each other for a few seconds, hurt meeting hurt, and Junhui puts his teeth into Minghao’s pants, careful not to rip the material, in a sign he hopes reads we need to get out of the shower or you’ll get sick.

Tears continue to fall from his eyes, and though Junhui has seen him cry numerous times, Minghao's always silent about it. He doesn’t wail or sob. He lets just enough tears fall to release some of the tension inside of him, but never all. Like he doesn’t deserve to cry.

“Why…” His tears mix with the water from the showerhead. “Why do they have to resort to this?” He draws a shaky, wet breath. “Why can’t they just— why can’t they just leave me alone?”

The Ministry released a statement about Minghao after he got his wand examination, stating that the rumour about Minghao killing the Wizarding World’s golden boy was false. And Minghao thought it would be good enough. The Light side now knew that he hadn’t killed one of his best friends or anyone else. He was innocent. 

Minghao genuinely believed he could start a new life away from the Dark side, as he assumed the Light side would take him in, allow him back into their circle after he was forced to turn their back on them, only to find that no one wanted him near them.

Junhui’s heart breaks for him. 

“It’s so unfair,” he sniffles miserably. “I didn’t do anything. They know that.” His face contorts with more tears. “So why… What more can I do?”

Junhui is able to get him out of the shower about twenty minutes later, when his red eyes contrast his purpling skin. He quickly grabs Minghao’s pyjamas from the floor, not caring that he’s getting water everywhere in the flat, and sees to it that Minghao performs both a drying and warm-up spell on himself and Junhui. 

But just because he’s out of the shower doesn’t mean Minghao is any less upset, so he keeps crying even as they lie on the couch, and Junhui gently licks the tears away before they can stain his shirt.

 

✵彡

 

Junhui is staring up at a locked laboratory door, completely defeated. 

That following morning, Minghao woke up at seven, which also woke up Junhui whether he meant to or not. The numbness within Minghao hadn't faded, and he put on clothes like he was in some sort of trance; his movements robotic and his eyes empty.

Ingredients that he hadn’t purchased this week were all still intact, but none belong in the potions he needs to deliver to the apothecary on Friday, so Junhui figured Minghao might have gotten up early to start working on potions that take less time to make and he has the ingredients for, but Minghao didn’t move to his lab when he finished putting on his clothes. Instead, he walked over to the entryway.

Junhui frowned, still a little delirious from being woken up earlier than expected, then carefully got off the couch and hopped towards Minghao, who he frowned at.

Minghao didn’t look at him, didn’t even seem to notice his presence at all, so Junhui opened his mouth to get his attention, but before he could get out a sound, Minghao Disapparated.

A gust of wind hit the cat, and he blinked in confusion. 

Minghao never left without either taking Junhui or telling him where he was going and how long he’d be gone for, and the latter only happened at the start of Junhui living with him and then a few days ago with the grocery run. 

Minghao is careful with every move he makes, riddled with anxiety, so every single alarm inside of Junhui started ringing. But there was nothing he could do but sit and hope Minghao would return soon. 

And he did, about an hour after he left, with an angry expression on his face and a bag of new ingredients hanging off his shoulder. He ran out of money with his previous ingredient order, so Junhui came to the unfortunate conclusion that Minghao made a stop at Gringotts to get some more. He had to spend the money he is so desperately trying to save. 

Minghao roughly forced his feet out of his boots, something he never did as these are his only pair and he knows he needs to take care of them, and flung his robe at the rack, missing it completely. He didn’t pick it up and strode to his laboratory.

He threw it closed behind him. 

It shook the entire flat, but before Junhui could process what just happened, he heard Minghao cast Colloportus; a locking spell he never resorted to. 

That was about two hours ago, and Junhui sighs defeatedly as he walks away from the door he knows won’t open any time soon. He curls into himself on the couch in an attempt to force himself back to sleep. 

It doesn’t work. 

Three more hours of potion-making pass, and it doesn’t seem like Minghao has taken a single second to breathe.

Junhui’s getting worried beyond belief.

Because he doesn’t want to scream in fear of upsetting the neighbours any further, Junhui excessively paws at the door while meowing at an acceptable volume hoping it’ll catch Minghao’s attention. 

But Minghao doesn't come out.

At around three in the afternoon, Junhui is getting really hungry. He lacked a consistent diet for years, but the past few months he’s been given food at ten and six and he’s grown so accustomed to it that he can barely believe he used to go days without being able to find anything edible. 

But he has to swallow his hunger, and goes back to the couch after deciding that scratching up the door is useless. 

He knows where his food is but he’d have to leap onto the kitchen counter first, which he can't do without seriously screwing up his leg. On the other hand, he could try to open the fridge, but anything he’ll find there he’d much rather see Minghao eat. 

Maybe Junhui eats both cat and human food, but Minghao rightfully does not, so Junhui needs to leave the human food for the human. 

At six, he’s tempted to eat the pillow he’s lying on both out of hunger and so he’ll have something to do. He can't get his mind off of the fact Minghao has been working for over ten hours, non-stop. 

It’s become clear to him that Minghao is trying to force four days of work into a single one, as he’ll have to deliver the potions to Wonwoo tomorrow, and Junhui hates how he's stuck not being able to do anything. He’s not strong enough to kick the door in nor does he have a wand to open it.

All he can do is meow pathetically knowing he’s being ignored. 

He wonders if Minghao has any idea what he’s doing to himself, but with his history of self-destructive behaviour, Junhui doubts Minghao cares even if he does know.

Eventually, the cat does start chewing on the corner of the cushion like a child on a pencil, and it doesn’t help in either the hunger or distracting front, but he keeps doing it anyway. There is nothing else he can do to pass time. 

He could have hypothetically left the flat to go to the apothecary to get some treats from Wonwoo, but reaching the door handle is one hell of a mission and he didn’t want to worry Minghao in case he did come out for a break. 

At nine, exhaustion hits him, and he pulls the blanket from the pile in the corner with his teeth. He awkwardly tucks himself in, and an ache squeezes his heart when he realises this is the first time since moving in with Minghao that they aren’t sleeping together. 

It’s cold without Minghao against him and the blanket doesn't want to fold how he’d like it to. He lets out a frustrated noise, like he’s snapping at it, but it’s obviously inanimate and doesn’t suddenly listen to his demands. He ends up fighting it for a few minutes before, once more, admitting defeat. 

Hungry, alone and cold, with the sound of potion-making in the background, he falls asleep. 

Minghao doesn’t join him, nor is he there when Junhui wakes up the following morning. 

As Junhui comes to his senses, he can still hear Minghao rummaging around in the other room.

Minghao always makes sure to distribute a handful of plastic cups filled with water around the flat, but they’re all empty and Junhui’s mouth has been dry for a while. He might not be a regular cat, who could have been in danger of kidney failure at this point, but that doesn’t mean he doesn't still have to stay hydrated. 

He longingly stares up at the laboratory door, willing Minghao to come out with the hope he can feel Junhui’s distress like he usually can, but the door remains closed.

With a heavy sigh, Junhui steps into the bathroom, where he tries to calculate how he’ll need to position his body and how far of a step it’ll be to use the toilet seat to get into the washbasin. 

His calculations are off. He nearly falls backwards into the toilet, but once he’s in the washbasin, he turns on the faucet and eagerly drinks the water. He’s getting himself wet in the process, but it almost instantly cures the headache that started to form and even somewhat calms down his growling stomach.

He hadn’t, however, considered the way back.

He can't jump down, and now that all his paws are wet, it’s very likely he’ll actually end up in the toilet. 

He gulps nervously as he looks over the edge at the floor. There’s a towel on there that could possibly prevent any slippage, but it doesn’t offer any kind of cushioning.

It will be a hard landing.

He quickly looks away, the effect of the height dizzying him. 

He’s stuck, and memories of being a street cat play out in front of his eyes like a movie. 

He's been in situations like this before, and he just had to deal with it because he didn’t know any better. But he does know better now. Anytime he’s had a problem in the past eight months, Minghao’s been there to help him through it, big or small. If Junhui finds himself in an uncomfortable situation, he usually won’t even need to say anything, because Minghao will know something is up and find Junhui.

Tears suddenly well up in his eyes against his will, scared and confused as he wonders how Minghao could neglect both himself and Junhui this severely. He understands it to some degree, as Minghao takes his career seriously and feels the need to rectify what’s gone wrong, but it’s not his fault and Junhui is sure Wonwoo would have been patient and given him more days. Maybe he’d even have paid Minghao regardless. 

But Minghao can't swallow his pride and he never asks for favours, so Junhui shouldn’t be surprised or as upset as he is.

And yet, he is. 

Because even though Junhui knows Minghao isn’t committed to taking care of himself, he’s always shown Junhui that he’s a reliable caretaker even when they had nothing. 

If they had one breadcrumb, Minghao would give it to Junhui. 

So maybe nothing horrible enough has happened before to set off destructive behaviour of this degree, with consequences that don't only impact him, but Junhui too; hurting them both. 

He meows as loud as he can, something closer to a screech, not giving a damn about the stupid neighbours now that he’s getting more wet, scared and upset with each passing minute. 

But nothing happens, and the idea of Minghao casting a silencing spell on the rest of the flat makes his heart drop to his stomach. He’s not a human being who can take care of himself when their housemate is out— he’s a bloody cat. He’s fully reliant on Minghao. 

Jumping off is becoming more tempting the longer he stays here, but setting his progress back is just about the last thing he wants to do. Hopping around on three legs already takes a toll on both those limbs and his back, so he’d like his fourth leg to be healed as quickly as his daily dose will allow. 

His drops. 

Fuck, his drops.

He's missing two days worth of them.

He sinks further into his own body in sadness. Junhui desperately wants Minghao to come find him. 

What feels like another hour passes, and Junhui makes a decision.

He'd much rather end up in the toilet than stay in the cold washbasin for another second. It’s been a long time since he’s last turned on the faucet, but the basin is still slippery and his paws are still wet, no matter how many times he’s licked them. 

He figures putting the lid down will be his smartest move, but it’s risky. He isn’t sure he can reach that far. 

He has no grip whatsoever, but he opts for the head-first approach. Breaking his fall with his front legs rather than his hind is his best bet, so he stretches his body as far as he can and just waves his right paw towards the lid.

He can’t reach it.

Junhui clenches his jaw and pushes himself forward a little, putting strength in his lower body and functioning hind leg, but he barely manages to touch the thing with a nail before he’s falling straight to the floor. 

He hadn’t anticipated it, at least not this soon, so instead of his front legs cushioning his fall, it’s his face. 

He groans, bringing his paws to his head to soothe the pain, but with the second headache he was starting to sport, it doesn’t help much. 

He’s long grateful he managed to escape the washbasin without hurting his leg, though, so he tries to pay the throbbing of his head no mind as he finally exits the bathroom and moves to the living room, where he attempts to lie down as comfortably as he can on the blanket.

He isn’t sure what time it is exactly, but what he does know is that he feels like he’s skipped four days of meals instead of one and a half. One thing that’s somewhat comforting is the fact that Minghao wants to drop off his potions today, so Junhui should get something to eat in a few hours.

There’s no clock in the flat, so Junhui usually tells time by how hungry he is, but that technique is obviously useless right now. Instead he looks at the sun, but he dropped Astronomy as soon as he could so it won't really tell him much until the sun starts setting.

By that point, Minghao is nearing forty hours of constant work and Junhui lets out a disproving sound when he wakes up from a nap to the moon looking at him instead of Minghao. 

But then the laboratory door suddenly opens, and Junhui immediately perks up in delight, but Minghao spares the living room no glance as he strides to the front door, hurriedly puts on his boots and throws on his robe.

The bag of potions on his back makes clinking noises as the potion bottles touch one another, and it’s the last sound Junhui hears before Minghao leaves the flat. 

And Junhui just cries, neglected and hurting. 

But all of his anger and disappointment immediately disappears when Minghao returns an hour later looking like he fell from a building.

The cat is sitting on the doormat, waiting for Minghao’s return, and he looks up at the boy with wide, alarmed eyes. 

Blood streams down his face from a cut in his eyebrow. His lip is torn, swollen and bloody, and his nose stands about two centimetres from where it should. Minghao has good posture, but he doesn't stand straight as he walks past the cat and enters the room, where he uses the wall to stabilise himself with one hand, holding onto his ribs with the other.

Going to the apothecary and back usually takes about 30 to 40 minutes, and with each minute that felt beyond that, the urge to go after Minghao grew tenfold. But he'd never be able to even open the door.

He tentatively follows Minghao, waiting for some kind of explanation, but he doesn’t get one.

Because Minghao collapses.

He misses the couch completely, landing on his side on the floor, and Junhui lets out a scream before he rushes over. 

He stands right in front of Minghao’s face, which cannot look the way it does because of some clumsy mishap. He can’t have fallen down some stairs, or tripped or ran into a wall. 

This was someone’s doing. Perhaps multiple people’s.

Junhui pushes the millions of theories away to lean closer, against Minghao’s chest, and listens with held breath for a beating heart. 

It’s there, but barely.

There’s no way of getting Minghao to St. Mungo's or getting a medical specialist to their flat on such short notice, if at all, so Junhui sees only one option.

He removes himself from Minghao’s body and hurries towards the kitchen where he stares up at the counter at the almost full bottle of Wiggenweld.

He can’t painlessly make the jump, that much he knows, and though he'd been very reluctant to in the bathroom, he’s more than willing to sacrifice his leg’s progress if that saves Minghao’s life. 

Getting on is the worst of it, as the counter top doesn’t allow for any sort of proper grip, and Junhui cries out as he lands awkwardly onto his wrong side, his bad leg folding into itself at a horrible angle. 

He breathes through clenched teeth, trying desperately to ignore the pain as he limps towards the bottle. The only safe way to transport it is by putting it in his mouth, but he doesn't know how to successfully transport it. 

He eventually chooses to put his teeth below the neck ring, praying silently to himself that the cork won’t slide out or that the glass shatters under the pressure.

The jump down is a little less painful, as he’s able to land on his front legs first, but his bad leg still hits the ground harder than he hoped it would.

The bottle thankfully didn't break, and he drops it next to Minghao’s body to pull out the cork with his canines. 

He spends a good amount of time considering what the best way of administering the medicine would be, as he can’t just hold Minghao’s mouth open and pour it in, so he only sees one option.

He tilts the bottle so a little spills out on the floor, and he presses the tip of his tongue into it, careful not to put it back into his mouth, then presses his tongue against the wound on Minghao's eyebrow. 

He knows that alongside the medicine he’s spreading his own bacteria into an open wound, but he hopes the Wiggenweld will cancel it out. 

And it does, because once Junhui draws his head back, the wound closes before his eyes. 

He lets out the largest breath of relief, then gets back to work. 

He has to push Minghao onto his back, which is asking a lot from his comparatively small and starving body, but he somehow manages to do so with the sheer power of wanting to save Minghao. He immediately gets back to dipping his tongue into the green liquid and licking Minghao’s torn lip. That cut, too, heals almost instantaneously. 

He doubts the broken bone of his nose will heal with Wiggenweld applied to it, but it might help with the bruising. 

Once Junhui's covered each possible injury on Minghao’s face, he sits back and ponders his next move. It’s unlikely Minghao will wake up any time soon, but Junhui knows sleeping with a possible concussion can have detrimental consequences, and his internal injuries need to be healed as soon as possible. 

Because of the kitchen counter, his speed has taken a serious hit and it takes him longer than usual to get to the laboratory, where he desperately looks for a potion that has waking up properties. 

Considering everything’s on the floor, it doesn’t take Junhui very long to find a vial of Wideye Potion. It’s almost empty, which tells Junhui that Minghao used it to get through these forty hours of work. 

He eagerly puts it into his mouth, takes it back to the unconscious body of the person he cares about more than anyone else, and uncorks it with the skill he now somewhat possesses.

All he knows is that he once used Wideye to pull an all-nighter, and very little of the stuff goes a long way. But Junhui was already awake at the time, so he isn’t sure how much of it should be used to wake someone up.

He doesn’t want Minghao to choke on it, but he’s not going to force his cat tongue down Minghao’s throat either, so he clumsily holds the vial over Minghao's mouth and cocks it. Some of it falls onto Minghao’s lips.

But it dribbles down the side of his face. 

Nothing seems to have gotten in, and Junhui whines in defeat.

But then, by some kind of miracle, Minghao suddenly shoots up. He takes a huge breath, then immediately starts coughing and spluttering.

Junhui instantly pushes the Wiggenweld bottle forward, but Minghao struggles to get his breathing under control so much that he doesn't seem to be seeing anything else. His face contorts each time he coughs, holding onto his body like it will fall apart.

By the looks of it, it just might.

The cat meows sternly, pointing his paw at the potion that will cure whatever is currently hurting him, but Minghao doesn’t reach for it, too focused on coming down from his coughing fit.

Junhui’s eyes narrow, and he takes note of the places Minghao's been injured, his face and his upper body from what he can see. He must have been in a fight, but based on the condition of his hands, which look worn from work rather than from landing a punch, Minghao did not fight back.

He just let people go to town with him like he’s a piñata. 

He could have easily died, beaten to nothingness, and Junhui doesn’t think Minghao would have cared if he did.

And he understands Minghao hadn’t planned to become responsible for anything but himself and that he became a cat owner under less-than-fortunate circumstances, but he agreed to take Junhui in. He has a family now, however small it may be, and he can't just abandon himself like he has.

Minghao eventually fully regains his senses, and finally looks at Junhui for the first time in forty hours. His eyes are more expressive than they were when Junhui last saw them, but the hollowness is still there.

Junhui looks down at the Wiggenweld with all the emphasis he can muster, then gives Minghao an intense look.

“No, it’s— I’m alright,” Minghao replies, but his voice is rough. He looks exhausted, not just because of today, but an inescapable exhaustion that sits in your bones and sneaks its way into your head. 

He gives Junhui a small smile, then lifts a hand to pet his cat, but Junhui takes a step back, out of Minghao’s reach.

He has the nerve to look confused, but then his eyes widen and he slaps a hand across his mouth.

“Yue…” he says slowly, and it hits him. “Shit.” He pushes himself up from the floor, though not without a serious amount of struggle, then trudges towards the kitchen where he hastily gets a bowl from one of the cabinets and dumps every last bit of meat in it, nearly cutting himself trying to open the can.

He places it on the ground along with himself, then looks at Junhui with such heavy regret that Junhui fears Minghao’s eyes might fall out. 

Despite the food he’s been thinking about for what feels like an eternity staring at him, Junhui points to the Wiggenweld next to him in a silent threat of I will eat that only if you take this. 

“Yue, I’m— you haven’t eaten in two days. Please.”

They stare at each other for what must be about a minute, neither moving an inch, and Junhui understands Minghao better now, him and his ways, and not taking the Wiggenweld would be punishment, something Minghao thinks he deserves.

But what Minghao deserves is to take care of himself, and to let himself be cared for, and so Junhui puts his paw against the Wiggenweld and pushes it forward as far as his body allows staying in the same position. 

This is my final warning, he wills his meows to convey. If you don't take it now, I’m not eating. 

Maybe it’s not the best strategy, but he needs to somehow communicate that Minghao’s actions don’t just impact himself anymore, and he doesn’t have many options to do so as a cat.

And maybe Minghao has become a bit of a cat-whisperer over time, as he shuffles towards Junhui and takes the Wiggenweld between his fingers. He rotates it, probably stalling, but then something else dawns on him. He immediately looks over his shoulder before slowly turning back in disbelief. “Did you get this from the counter?”

Junhui slowly lifts a paw. 

Minghao’s eyes widen with worry. “But that’s— what?” His eyes begin to search. “Are you okay?” He then seems to register another thing and he covers his eyes in shame. “Fuck. You haven’t had medicine in two days either.”

He must be aware that the only thing Junhui wants from him right now is to take the damn healing potion, so Minghao takes a deep breath and puts it to his lips, taking a much larger gulp than Junhui would have expected him to. 

Junhui sighs in relief as he watches Minghao swallow it down and put the bottle next to him, wiping his mouth. 

He pats over slowly, because that was the deal, then starts scarving down his food. 

Minghao doesn’t move. He chooses to watch Junhui eat, and though that normally embarrasses Junhui, he’s far too hungry to care right now. 

“Yue… I’m so sorry,” Minghao says then, the quality of his voice is better now that he’s drunk the healing potion. “I took some Wideye Potion to keep me awake… I really didn't expect the potion to be as strong as it was. I kept feeling like I could go on for a bit longer, so I did, but I wasn’t aware that so much time was passing. I wanted to get it done as quickly as possible because I thought we might not get any money otherwise, and if I can’t feed you…” He lets out a bitter laugh. “Well, I did just that, actually.”

Junhui notices that he started sitting up straighter. He hopes that means the potion is taking effect.

“I got completely caught up in it,” he says before wiping away the tears that fell from his eyes. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t— that I wasn’t here with you. You must have felt really horrible…”

He notes that Minghao doesn’t talk about whatever happened that made him faint, and though Junhui wants answers, he has no clue how to ask for an explanation.

He gathers the strength to stop eating, then points at the fridge. 

Minghao nods shakily. “You’re right. I should eat too.” But he doesn’t get up yet, instead he gives Junhui a scared sort of look, like he knows the answer anyway. “Did you sleep okay?” 

Junhui keeps his paw down and goes back to his food. Minghao also gives him some more water, then takes the empty bowls from Junhui once he’s done.

Their dynamic has shifted, and what was once effortless is now a moment of hesitation, because Minghao asks him if he can pick him up to give him his medicine instead of just doing it. 

Junhui agrees, but as soon as Minghao places his hands on him, he hisses in pain. 

Minghao immediately puts him back on the floor, gasping as he looks at the leg Junhui is keeping off the ground. He doesn’t take long to figure out what happened. “You fell on it. From the jump..?”

New tears well up in Minghao’s eyes as he must begin to understand just how much Junhui is willing to do to keep Minghao alive, unlike Minghao himself.

It’s simple to Junhui. How can he care about the progress of his leg in a situation like that? What’s even the point of progress if the person he loves won’t be there to enjoy it with him?

Junhui can tell there is something on the tip of Minghao’s tongue, something about how Junhui shouldn’t have hurt himself for Minghao’s sake, but he ends up not saying it. Instead, he picks Junhui up differently. He puts his hands under his arms so he won’t have to touch his legs. “Let’s see what I can do so it won’t hurt as much.”

He gives Junhui only two drops knowing he probably consumed a bunch of it rubbing it on Minghao’s face, then just holds him for a while so Junhui’s leg won’t have to touch anything. It’s comforting, being in Minghao’s arms, easily the most comfortable thing in the world, but this is not how he wants the rest of the evening to go. 

He needs to get through to Minghao.

So he lets Minghao know that he wants to be put down, and then he sees to it that Minghao eats a full meal, watching carefully and meowing in protest when he stops early. 

He makes Minghao turn on the hot water, making a noise when Minghao turns the shower off way too soon. He just worked forty hours straight, goddammit. 

They move to the couch after, and it takes a few minutes before Minghao, unsure, reaches over until his hand hovers above Junhui’s head. “Can I touch you again?”

And Junhui doesn’t want their dynamic to change, not even a miniscule bit. He just wants Minghao to understand that his actions have serious consequences, and no longer just for himself. 

So Please do, is what he’d like to say, but he can only meow. 

They spend about a minute in silence.

Minghao runs his fingers through Junhui’s fur before he speaks up again. “When I took you in, I swore to myself that I would take care of you. I know this might sound… I don’t know, I don’t like promises much myself but— I really, sincerely promise that I won’t ever do something like this again. Ever.” He gives Junhui a regretful smile. “You mean everything to me. I’m so sorry I haven’t shown you that these past two days… I’ll do better, okay?”

It’s not the best apology Junhui has ever heard, as Minghao leaves out important parts that also need to be addressed, but it’s an apology. 

So with a somewhat relieved heart, Junhui crosses the distance and crawls into Minghao’s lap, curling into himself before looking up at him. Minghao’s eyes are slowly going back to normal now, a beautiful brown covered by messy strands of auburn, no longer fully empty.

Junhui can only hope that Minghao will start to understand that he is no longer on his own.

 

✵彡

 

The next few days pass relatively quietly, and they go back to their usual routine. 

Despite Minghao clearly feeling like he has something to make up for, he doesn’t express it in excessive coddling. He touches Junhui as often as the cat is used to, but he does communicate his remorse. 

Because he spent money he hadn’t meant to spend on new ingredients, he seems to have come to terms with the inevitable postponement of moving out of this miserable flat and comes home carrying arms full of groceries.

Junhui eats what he’s come to know as two days worth of food in one sitting, and though he’s never felt this bloated in his life, he’s probably also never felt this fulfilled. 

This feeling of delight is further amplified by Minghao also eating more than Junhui has ever seen him do in one day, and he meows gratefully.

Minghao grins, a piece of chicken halfway into his mouth, and he reaches across the table to cutely rub his hand over Junhui’s head like you’d do to a small child to mess up their hair. 

Junhui is still not allowed in the supermarket and Minghao Apparates alone to a far away town for ingredients and doesn’t want Junhui to get what he calls “car sick”. He has to admit that Apparating takes a bigger toll on him in this body, so maybe Minghao has a point.

They go to the beach on Wednesday, and Junhui is surprised to see Minghao actually brought a towel. It’s a regular bathroom one, but Minghao lays it out vertically so his entire body can fit on it sitting up, then places Junhui into his lap. 

Once they’re properly and comfortably seated, Minghao lets out a sigh that he seemed to have been holding for a while. It has a relieved sort of air to it, like he’s finally feeling relaxed enough to just sit back and enjoy something— to not have to worry.

Junhui rubs his head against Minghao’s chest twice in an attempt to show Minghao that he’s happy to see him be less tense. His chest too, which the cat is lying against, feels less stiff. 

They stay there for a while, even once the sun has already been fully replaced by the moon, and he wonders what goes on in Minghao’s head. He isn’t talking to himself, to Junhui’s dismay, and he thinks Minghao would have preferred a journal of some sorts if he’d been willing to spend money on one.

“Are you cold?” asks Minghao suddenly, and despite the shaking of Junhui’s head, Minghao opens his robe and folds the sides around the cat, enveloping him. 

Junhui cuddles closer as Minghao continues to look at the water rippling in front of them. Junhui can appreciate the serenity of the scene now that he’s seen it so often, but he still doesn’t quite know what draws Minghao in so severely; how he can stare at moving water for hours.

They Apparate home eventually, leading to a familiar headache on Junhui’s end, and Minghao casts a cleaning spell on everything before putting the towel back into the bathroom. 

Minghao showers quickly, puts on his makeshift pyjamas and joins Junhui on the couch after grabbing their blanket. He pulls Junhui to his chest as he covers them in wool, and together they fall asleep.

Junhui slips into another dream, one where he escapes to a lake he visited once as a kid. 

The sun is high up in the sky, children cheer as they wobble towards the water with concerned parents in tow, and Junhui's sitting on a large beach towel.

Minghao is sitting next to him, toes buried in the sand.

It’s a summer’s day, and human Junhui watches a group of teenagers pass them. They laugh as they run into the water, but one turns once they catch sight of something.

“Sick scar, dude,” he tells Minghao as he pulls down his sunglasses, jutting his chin at the exposed forearm. He pushes them back up his nose after Minghao's stiff “thank you”.

The rigidness of Minghao’s tone compared to the genuinity of the compliment tells Junhui that this dream really is taking place in the Muggle world. 

Minghao slowly turns his head, shocked.

Junhui hasn’t heard his own voice in seven years, and that record doesn't break. Instead of saying anything, he reaches for Minghao’s hand and squeezes gently. 

The simple gesture is able to get the frown off of Minghao’s face, and he squeezes back.