
male x sixth year x seventeen x slytherin x tags: marisol, open
jihoon narrowed his eyes, slapping his face weakly as another overwhelming wave of exhaustion washed over him and threatened to pull him under. sleep.. he thought, producing a small hand mirror, and pulled it towards his face, and began fixing his hair. sounds nice right about now. jihoon had a much more difficult commute to hogwarts than most others, which was partly the reason why he actually usually stayed at hogwarts for the holidays as well rather than going home; but his father had insisted he come visit this time, although there really wasn’t anyone to visit, his parents were at the korean ministry of magic council for the entire duration, and of course his siblings were somewhere doing important things or whatnot.
jihoon probably would (and should) sleep, as he’d just endured an exhausting eleven hours of flight on a muggle airgadget that his mother had arranged; because she didn’t want him using his broom over such long distances, inter- continent apparition is strongly advised against, and floo powder was not an option. although his mother had purchased him the best section on the muggle airgadget, it still was not pleasant in the slightest. it felt unsanitary, and frankly quite demeaning.
his thoughts were interrupted by the first years occupying the same tram car as he. yes, another reason he couldn’t just doze off to relaxing sound of loud chugging was the noisy first years he had blessed to have sat down in the same car with a bundle of giggling female first years that couldn’t seem to stop staring at him. ah, but it was honestly a bit endearing to see a new batch of chatty first years. although he would feel more affection if they would shut up just once.
feeling the train begin to slow, and spotting the ever-familiar hogwarts greeting the hogwarts express with its impressive architecture. beginning to tidy up his belongings, he fought an amused grin as he heard to first years echo “there it is, there it is”, with such awe. as the train slowed and exit points became available, he let them go first. as he got up to leave with his things, he noticed a worn leather book, undoubtedly one of the first years’. taking it, he got off the train, searching for the small group. spotting them a few feet away, jihoon pushed through the crowd, crammed himself in front of the first years and pushed the small book into one of the girls’ hands and kept going without a second glance, leaving her gaping behind him. feeling satisfied, he allowed a cocky smirk to grace his features.
➼
making his way through the banquet, jihoon wove around the clusters of students, nodding and winking to his fellow slytherins and not giving the gryffindors a second glance. he was still a little shaken from someone’s cat getting loose and trying to leap on him, but he had quickly regained his composure.
sitting with familiar faces of the sixth years sitting together at the slytherin table, jihoon mumbled a quick charm to straighten out his robes, as it had gotten disturbed from the excessive breeze gracing the outdoors. he liked to add an immaculacy to his princely image, he’d found.
as mcgonagall began to announce this and that, jihoon produced another hand mirror, using his delicate fingers to careful put every dark hair in its place, intentionally not listening, someone else would tell him everything in a much shorter duration of time anyway. seeing to everything being where it should be, jihoon put his mirror away as mcgonagall finally wrapped up her speech.
with the meal beginning, jihoon placed his hands in his lap, half heartedly looking at the food. it was common knowledge that the princely sixth year didn’t exactly have the most ferocious appetite. dusting his robes for invisible dust, jihoon tilted his pale, slender face in marisol’s direction who happened to be sitting next to him. while he believed she could speak more elegantly, especially to be an example of a pureblood like him, they were very familiar with each other, they’d known each other since they were first years, back when jihoon was an immature but admittedly hilarious eleven year old boy.
putting his arm on the table and resting his face on his fist, he watched her devour an unfortunate roll with amusement glinting in his gaze.
“so what was mcgonagall going on about this time?”




