Work Text:
———
She saw it suddenly one morning, glimmering in the early morning light streaming into their dormitory. A Wednesday morning, normal as any other, when Poppy and her were preparing for the day ahead.
Seungyeon had always been an early riser, a routine steamrolled into her as a young girl. People like her family did not have the luxury of sleeping in. They all used to wake up before dawn’s first light, toiling away the hours until they couldn’t see in front of them. Even though she was no longer at that construction camp, she felt restless and bored if things weren’t happening.
It was Poppy who managed to convince her to sleep a little longer. She put it this way: most places of business, most villagers in the nearby hamlets, and most students and professors were not awake at five in the morning. If Seungyeon rose at that time, what was she to do?
“Not to mention,” she had added, “sleep is the best way to heal, and to catalogue and organize experiences. There’s no point in avoiding a good night’s rest.”
Admittedly, she raised some good points. Although, if Seungyeon was being honest with herself, she would have been convinced even if Poppy said some absolute bullshit. She had a pull to make her friend happy, and she didn’t wish to cause stress over something easily preventable. So instead of waking up at five, she compromised and pushed it back to six. That was still earlier than most students, but with breakfast beginning at seven, Poppy had no complaints.
In the beginning, it was just Seungyeon waking up that early. She would rise exactly at six, get dressed in ten minutes, and sneak down to the common room or the Library to study her notes, catch up on her homework, or work on her personal project—a handmade lute. It was a massive undertaking, involving much trial and error, but also massively rewarding. Even though she opted to use her ancient magic skills rather than traditional Muggle techniques, Madam Barat from Hogsmeade was impressed with her progress.
Once Poppy caught wind, she also began to wake at the same time. Together, they helped each other study their weakest subjects (Poppy, Defense Against the Dark Arts; Seungyeon, History of Magic) and cooked up elaborate rescue efforts from the poacher camps that were cropping up in the valley. Through these experiences, the two girls became familiar with the other’s idiosyncrasies. Each girl volunteered more and more information about their personal life, until Seungyeon felt like she could write a book and accurately chronicle all of Poppy’s milestones.
It felt nice to trust a non-family member so wholeheartedly. If it was anyone else, Seungyeon would have hated the idea of using her precious moments of peace to entertain a companion. Poppy was different.
Today, Seungyeon planned to continue work on her lute. She was ironing out the issues with the bridge and the nut, as the strings felt weirdly tensioned when she pressed down on them. That would happen after Poppy got dressed, however.
Out of respect for the other girl, she usually kept her gaze averted, or even turned her back entirely. Today, she was facing her desk. Her routine went like this: pull a buttoned shirt on, stuff her leaden legs into a crisp pair of dress slacks, knot her tie, shrug on her yellow waistcoat plaid, push her arms through a dark grey suit jacket to match the slacks. She was grateful that the full-length house robes were optional on a normal school day, only mandatory on the first and last days of school. The number of times she almost tripped and fell on her nose the first day at Hogwarts was too many to count.
Poppy, on the other hand, preferred the skirted uniform and opted for a knee-length school cloak instead of a blazer. She also kept the necktie knotted and simply loosened it enough to slip over her head and hang on a chair at the end of the day… much to Seungyeon’s chagrin. Somehow, despite having more pieces to her uniform, Seungyeon always finished dressing first. she found herself staring down at her hands, waiting for Poppy’s call from across the room.
That was when she saw the red string, looped about her left little finger. What the hell? She certainly didn’t have that last night. She tried to pull it off, but her fingers passed through the knot. There was nothing physical or tangible about this string. She wondered if her ability to perceive ancient magic had anything to do with this. In her haste, she didn’t notice where the string led to.
Suddenly, her motivation for tinkering with her lute flew out the window. She had to see Professor Fig. Completely forgetting her current task, Seungyeon swiped her dark leather flat cap from her desk and grabbed the handle of her messenger bag.
“Arresto Momentum!”
In an instant, Seungyeon felt her limbs slow. It felt like that one time she had to swim through thick mud to catch a trapped, baby Kniffler.
Poppy came up to her, only half-dressed. Her light grey waistcoat hung open, her striped tie still loose. “Yeon, why are you in a rush?” With a wave of her wand, she ended the spell.
A small part of her brain told her not to tell the truth… not yet, anyway. Instead, she settled on a partial truth. “I have a question to ask Professor Fig about my magic, and I don’t want to forget it. I’ll see you at breakfast?”
Poppy scanned her face intently. Seungyeon held her breath. Finally, the older girl’s face cleared. She gripped her hand and squeezed once before letting go. “You’ll tell me at breakfast, then.” A statement, not a question. For some reason, the hand Poppy had squeezed tingled with warmth, but she pushed that thought aside for now.
Seungyeon nodded and headed straight for a Floo fireplace. She tumbled into Professor Fig’s private quarters, where she knew the Magical Theory professor was enjoying a cup of tea. He also was an early riser, she had come to learn early on in their relationship.
“Professor! I’m sorry to bother you at such a strange time, but would you happen to know anything about a red string tied to a finger?”
Professor Fig looked up from the newspaper he was reading. “Good morning, Miss Lee. I do, but only enough to know that you’re most likely looking at a Red Thread of Fate.”
“Red Thread of Fate… is this a magic thing, or a No-Maj thing?”
“The little I do know, it originated from East Asia the Muggle way. But you should take that with a grain of salt, obviously. Perhaps Madam Kogawa would know a thing or two? She should be on the Training Grounds for her morning exercises.”
Seungyeon perked up. That was a great lead! “Thank you, Professor. I’ll see you later.”
“Of course. And, Miss Lee… embrace the origins.” The old man raised his teacup in a toast as he returned to his newspaper.
She briefly wondered what he meant as she hopped into the fireplace once again. Past a few doors, she made it outside of the castle. Luckily, the Flying Instructor was on the turf, stretching her shoulders and back.
“Madam Kogawa?”
At the sound of her voice, the former Quidditch Keeper turned to her with a firm nod of approval. “Miss Lee! Good morning. It’s good to see you so bright and early. What brings you out here?”
“I had a rather strange question… Professor Fig referred me to you after I asked him about a red string wrapped around my finger. He called it the ‘Red Thread of Fate’? Do you know anything about that?” Seungyeon held up her pinky finger. “I’m seeing a red string here, but I can’t touch it or feel it. Am I going mad?”
Madam Kogawa laughed good-naturedly. “Not to worry, Miss Lee, you’re not going mad. The red cord you’re seeing is said to lead to your destined lover. Although it may tangle or stretch, it will never break.”
Seungyeon’s mouth hung open. A destined lover? Her fate was decided already? She didn’t like the sound of that. “How did you hear about it?”
“Back home, we would call it ‘unmei no akai ito’ or simply ‘akai ito’. There’s most likely a word in Korean, as well. My mother used to tell me about it when I was your age. She claimed that’s how she knew my father was the one. Up!” Madam Kogawa summoned her broom from where it lay in the grass. As she climbed on, Seungyeon thought she saw the remnant of a melancholy smile fade. “Consider yourself lucky, Miss Lee. It is usually invisible to everyone, even those bearing the Red Thread. Why not use this opportunity to your advantage?”
She frowned. “I’m sorry, Madam Kogawa, what do you mean by that?”
“Follow the string, Miss Lee! There’s no rule saying you must abide by this string you see… but aren’t you curious where it will lead?” With a quick wink, the ex-Quidditch player zipped off toward the Pitch. Seungyeon was left to mull over her parting words.
Perhaps following the thread was what Professor Fig was trying to suggest as well. She shook her head and made her way to the Great Hall. This conundrum could wait until after breakfast.
The hallways were much busier now, being closer to seven. Seungyeon followed the flow of students to the dining hall—but as she stepped over the threshold, she felt a soft pull on her little finger. Her steps faltered as she looked down at the thread. Had she hallucinated that?
A fourth-year Gryffindor student knocked into her shoulder.
“Hey!”
“Maybe don’t stand in the middle of the doorway!” he threw behind him.
Seungyeon sighed. He was right, despite being an ass. She stepped to the side, removing herself from the river of hungry students.
This red string did not pull on her finger when she waved it around; it seemed to automatically adjust the distance. She still couldn’t touch it with her other hand. After a couple minutes, she decided to find her seat, fearing that people would think she was properly losing it. As she walked closer to the Hufflepuff table, however, the red cord seemed to hum with energy. Vibrations traveled up the string and into her finger. Working from her pinky, she followed the thread with her eyes, ending up at… Poppy.
Madam Kogawa’s words came crashing down, running down the small of her back.
Oh, hell.
———