The Power of a Dustpan

by Sinead Usagi

-------------------Chapter 1: Of All The People --------------------------

Where should I start? Hmm... let's start on the fifth day, of the fourth month (that's April for those of you who aren't so bright) of my sixth year. Ah, yes, the golden years of youth, to be treasured and remembered fondly. A wise friend of mine says that one day I will look back on these years and smile. Another, possibly even wiser friend, says I will look back on these days and cringe. Maybe, if my talents develop as planned, I will be able to achieve both at the same time. But for now, the golden whatsit of youth is not shining so brightly. Why? you ask. I'll tell you why- I have been sitting in a damp, smelly broom closet for an hour!

Yes, a broom closet. A closet filled with brooms, no doubt. But not only is this closet filled with brooms (they aren't the flying kind either) it is also filled with various, and unfortunately less better looking, relatives of the broom: mops, feather dusters (my they can be a lively bunch), vacuums, and of course, the trusty side-kick and partner of any competent broom- dustpans.

Now, why would I, your distinctly handsome, beautiful, and charismatic narrator be stuck in a broom closet? Let's just say I had a date with destiny, or rather, a Hufflepuff. However, she has failed to show up at the arranged time, and being the lazy sort that I am, I have been too lazy to actually summon the strength to stand up (urgh) and walk back to my dorm. Won't my adoring friends be worried about me, you ask? Why, yes, I imagine they will be worried. They will worry and worry until their hair turns grey and their teeth fall out. But I am not subject to them and their continuous worrying. After all! I do as I please and come and go when I like.

Now, I'll bet you're wondering, what does all this have to do with anything? Nothing really, I'm just trying to keep myself occupied. I guess you are also wondering who I am and how you can come and join me in this broom closet. Well, I am flattered, but really, you think I'd reveal that classified information? I'm a wanted man you know, and I can't go around giving away my identity to anyone who asks. That is why I have so many pseudonyms up my sleeve. John Smith, for example, has gotten me out of many a pickle with unwanted fanatics.

What have we learned today? One: I will not tell you who I am. Two: I am sitting in a broom closet, quite alone (but unwaveringly attractive). Three: Something is about to happen, which I am now going to relate to you in past tense.

And this something is a rather unnerving turn of events. As I sat on an upturned bucket, thinking to my self of my present situation, I heard a yelling and scurrying outside. Could it be my date, come at last? Any miscommunications will be forgiven, if so.

I watched amusedly as the door handle was jiggled back and forth until finally whomever it was put some brute force behind their efforts, and managed to push the door in, and then close it hurriedly behind them.

I'm not sure what kind of architect would design a broom closet with a door that opens INWARDS but let me assure you there will be no mercy for them if we ever cross paths. This violent swing of the door caught me at unawares, and smacked my whole body off of my treasured bucket and into the wall (which is not that far of a move, but still, the pain...), where after all brooms and family came tumbling on top of me.

The person obviously was not my date. They did not even acknowledge my presence, as they leaned their ear gently against the door, trying to discern the sounds of anyone following them, while trying to silence their heavy breathing. Of course, it must be hard to see someone covered in various moppery in the dark, so I let it go.

Almost immediately, I heard a cackling sound mixed with an equally unsettling high-pitched giggle.

"Student out of bed! Student out of bed! Where, oh, where could you be?" Peeves sang, and I heard him slamming doors as he whizzed down the corridor towards us. My guest gasped and brought out a wand, quickly muttering an incantation to keep the door shut. And, sure enough, after this happened, Peeves was at our door. He first tried the doorknob, but then seeing, to his utter delight, that it was locked, started scratching on the door with his horrid fingernails.

"Are you in there my sweet?"

Urgh, how revolting. I suppressed the urge to reply.

"Why don't you come out? You know that students aren't allowed to be sneaking about at night!"

I heard the person hold their breath, and we both listened tensely for what his next move would be. I figured he would either tire of the game, or go get Filch. Unfortunately (or fortunately, you decide) he did neither.

"Why don't you unlock the door? Or do you like being in a cramped, smelly, broom closet?" he sang, as happy as can be.

Silence from us both.

"Well... if you insist! If you like it so much in there... well! Let no one say that Peeves is a mean poltergeist, dearie! You get what you want!"He cackled some more and we heard him whiz away.

I heard a sigh of relief and whoever it was sat down to calm them self. Then, that person cast the lumos spell to bring a little bit of light to the situation. I could not believe my eyes.

"EVANS! LILY FREAKING EVANS?"

She jumped at being addressed by a pile of brooms. Then, upon realizing that there was someone UNDER the pile of brooms, moved them and tried to help me up.

"What the—" I cut her off

"Lily Evans! What are you doing here?" I said, and began to laugh. She was absolutely the last person I would expect to be running into broom closets, being chased by Peeves, in the middle of the night.

She put her hand on my mouth. "Shh! He may have gone to get Filch! This is my chance to sneak out now." She raised an eyebrow at me. "I hope I didn't disturb you, whatever you were doing."

She then turned around and tried to open the door, ignoring my protests of "be careful you don't hit me again!" I needn't have worried, however, because the door simply would not open. She tried turning the knob as hard as she could, both ways. She tried pushing it, pulling it, and punching it, but it was no use. That door, like me, was just not up to moving any time soon.

Then, she laughed at it. I wondered to myself what that was going to do to help the situation, and I started to tell her that the door wouldn't appreciate being laughed at, but then she lifted her wand up to the knob.

"I just have to undo my locking spell, that's all," she murmured, more to herself than anyone. What am I? A broom? Yeesh.

"Alohomora!"

She tried the door again.

Nothing.

"ALOhomORA!" she tried again, this time enunciating the word fully. To her extreme dismay, the lock would not break.

I tsked at her, and stood up, which wasn't the easiest thing to do, seeing as there was limited room in this closet. "Let me try," I said coolly, and brought up my wand.

"It goes like this, Lily dearest. Watch and learn. AloHOMORA!"

She tried the door again and still it refused to open. She sneered at me.

"Nice going."

She was mocking me! This would not do at all! I pushed her out of the way, and tried to open the door myself.

"You're too weak, with your girly arms. Let a man handle this!" I cried, and started tugging at the door with all the brute force of my abominable ancestors. This, however, only made her laugh.

"MY girly arms? Look at YOUR girly arms!" she said, and pinched my awesomely muscular bicep. I was so offended that I fell over, out of breath, and was unable to attempt at opening the door anymore.

"I'll just blow the stupid thing off. Expelliarmus!" The electric beam of light that shot forth from her wand hit the handle, but then fizzled out. She tried again, but no avail.

"Try it with me, you dolt! If we do it together, maybe it will work!" she snapped, and kicked me. I happened to be lying on the floor, and thought it extremely rude of her to kick me. Kick 'em when they're down, that must be her motto.

"No need for profanities, love," I said, struggling to get to my feet. She snorted audibly, but I chose to ignore it. "On the count of three. I mean, that is to say, after I say three, not WHILE I'm saying three. It is important that I stress this right now, because I have run into problems in the past with people thinking that as I am pronouncing the word "three" they have the go ahead. But, no. It is only after three that you may proceed."

"Thanks for the warning," she said flatly. As I counted, we both pointed our wands at the door handle. Then, after that tricky three, we recited the spell together.

"EXPELLIARMUS!"

And still, with the combined effort of our geniuses, the spell cracked and sizzled like static, and extinguished itself into the doorknob. I gave up and sat down again. I spent the next ten minutes watching Lily try every spell she could think of to open the blasted door. But, I'm sure, if you have been paying ANY attention in the story so far, you will have guessed that none of these worked either. She tried and tried until she ran out of ideas, and then, exhausted, she ungracefully sat down on the floor beside me.

"If it makes you feel any better, it was absolutely darling when you started swearing at the door. I've never seen anything quite like it."

"Shut up, you," she snapped at me. Then, hugging her knees, she put her head down and sighed.

"Don't worry, the spell will wear off in the morning," I told her quietly.

She lifted her head and looked at me, I could see slight tears of frustration in her eyes. She must have been very tired.

"What?"

"The spell. The one that Peeves cast. We'll be locked in here until morning. His night magic loses power during the day," I told her.

She gave me an incredulous look. "Are you making this up?"

I shook my head. "No, no, I know all about Peeves's magic. I thought, as a prefect, you would know too. Peeves can only cast powerful spells during the night. He locked us in, and that is why we can't break it." I paused to make sure she was still listening to me. "However, he has very little power during the day, and can only perform petty charms. So the locking spell should wear off in the morning. It's elementary, my dear Evans."

While Lily gaped at my incredible knowledge and intelligence, I spoke further. "So, this means we will be locked in this closet together until morning. I guess I can cross that off my list of things to do before I die." Okay, I can be sarcastic sometimes, too.

Lily smacked her forehead dramatically with the palm of her hand. "Of all the people to get locked in with, I get stuck with Sirius Black!"


A/N: Hey you all, this is probably just a product of my pre-HBP excitement. I haven't really written anything for a year, maybe more, so this is what happens, I guess. For those of you who are wondering, NO, THIS IS NOT A LILY/SIRIUS ROMANCE FIC! THEREFORE there will be NO SNOGGING in this broom closet. I may be the first person to ever write a fanfic like that! oo;;

Review! Come on! You know you want to!

DISCLAIMER: You know very well I don't own Harry Potter or any other pop-culture references made in this fanfiction.