Chapter Text
“I wouldn’t say that I’m in love,” Saitama mused as he lazily flicked his wand to turn the page of his textbook. His eyes were fixated on the words but none of their meanings were registered in his brain.
“No?”, Mumen smiled not-so-subtly as he fluidly glided the quill across his parchment, signifying the completion of his assignment. “Well then, do enlighten me on the definition of ‘in love’, Saitama.”
Saitama glared half-heartedly at his best friend, “Don’t tease, Mumen.” Sighing, he waved a hand to close the textbook shut and flopped over to the couch. He stared up at the tendrils of fern and ivies up on the ceiling of Hufflepuff's common room, thinking of a reply.
“I mean, I just really like to see his smile, that’s all. And he looks super cool with those shiny badges. And you have to admit that he has a handsome face. You’ve seen him on the quidditch field, haven’t you? And the way he handles a quaffle and he uses the-Oh will you stop smiling like that?!”
Mumen was most definitely amused by his friend’s reaction, seeing that he was one second away from a burst of full-blown laughter. “Right, sorry,” Mumen apologized despite still having the smirk plastered to his face.
“But those shiny badges, you mentioned? I have them, and so does King, don’t you think we are cool too?”, Mumen pressed.
“I don’t know, I mean it’s not really about the badge. You get what I mean, right?”, Saitama replied, sounding a little frustrated with his inability to put his thoughts into words.
“Uhuh,” Mumen nodded. Those badges were just for show of authority; as the prefect or the Quidditch Captain. It was obvious that Saitama wasn’t attracted to just anyone wearing the badges, but rather, the one specific person wearing them.
“Speaking of prefects, we will be having a meeting later in the evening, so you should have dinner without me,” Mumen continued as he packed up his parchments and quills into a leather bag. Forever the perfect role model of a Head Boy, Saitama watched him as he cleaned up the desk in the common room, murmuring the Cleaning Charm under his breath.
“Will you be back late then?”, Saitama asked in dejection, “You promised me to revise Herbology together.”
“I certainly hope so,” Mumen replied.
Saitama was almost deceived by the sorry tone of his roommate but the sneer on his face betrayed it all. He half-expected the continuation of his teasing and true enough, Mumen did not disappoint.
“But in the case that I can't make it, you could always ask him to help you.”
Yeap, there it is.
Saitama buried his face deeper into the cushion of the sofa, resolved in ignoring Mumen’s taunt.
“Ah but I forgot, Genos is also Ravenclaw’s prefect. He might not have the time today, no matter how badly he wants to be with his beloved sensei.”
And that was the final straw.
“Ugh, will you stop it? Just go already, Head Boy,” Saitama whined exasperatedly.
Mumen chuckled at his response. “Make sure to review your notes on Potions too. Don’t wait until the last minute to study for NEWTS,” he reminded before finally leaving the room.
Saitama rolled around, to look at the warm fireplace in the other end of the room. Mumen is such a worrywart.
… But he has a point.
The seventh-year students still have more than half a year time to prepare, but based on Saitama’s academic qualification, he would have to work hard if he wanted to qualify for auror training. Attaining at least five NEWTs of no less than ‘Exceeds Expectations’ should be no difficult task for the likes of Mumen and King, but the same can't be said for Saitama.
Sighing, Saitama turned again to grumble into the cushion. Why did I promise Genos that I will be Auror with him?
Reminiscing back, it all started in his third year, exactly marking the third year of his training. And it was all thanks to that one overgrown Billywig that he met Genos.
In recollection, Saitama didn’t exactly remember anything back then. But the gist of it; there was a huge mutated mosquito that got out of the Forbidden Forest. The how and why a magical insect native to Australia ended up in Hogwarts was a mystery to everyone.
But the fact that Saitama was attending a magical school where objects fly around and food appears whenever he wishes in the Great Hall; the idea of an insect coming out from a forest seemed trivial enough.
What Saitama did remember, was the unfortunate first-year kid that got attacked by it. Attacked didn’t feel like the right word for it, not especially since it was the kid who first initiated the fight.
Nonetheless, Saitama stepped up to save the poor kid since informing a professor might take a longer time and Saitama hated the hassle. With a swift flick of his wand, the insect exploded into pink and purple dust; which consequently sprinkled Saitama’s robe in rainbow-like colors.
After a glance at the kid to make sure that he was alright, Saitama tried to brush off the colorful glitter on his dark robe with no avail, “Mosquitoes suck.”
Just as he was about to leave the castle grounds to head to his Charms class, a hand reached out to grab onto his robe.
Saitama turned around to see the kid again, golden eyes sparkling up at him.
“What are you doing-?”
“Professor, how did you do that?! Teach me!”
Saitama’s eyes twitched at the term the kid used, “I am not a teacher, I am a third-year student, I am your senior.”
“Oh,” the kid blinked innocently at him, “Then, why are you bald?”
Saitama took a deep breath, he wasn’t going to lash out at a kid. No, I am above that.
“It’s a condition, I trained too hard till all my hair fell off. Now let go of my shirt, kid.”
But if anything, the kid held it tighter, “Take me as your disciple!”
Worried that he would be late to his Charms class now, Saitama agreed thoughtlessly, “Sure,” hoping that the kid will let him go.
Ultimately, the kid did let him go, but not before asking for his name, “Hold on! Please tell me your name!”
“Oh. It’s Saitama.”