Hogsmeade was gloriously cold, the wind sweeping through the streets and ruffling scarves, cloaks and hair. The snow was bright white and packed in hills across the town. Students all bustled about, black robes trailing in the melt and slowly getting soaked. Dan sighed, pulling the body next to him closer.

Phil laughed. "Cold?"

"What do you think?" He replied, a failed attempt at sounding irritated. His breath appeared in small clouds of mist that brushed on Phil's neck. The Hufflepuff shivered.

Beforehand, they had crafted a plan together. Arriving at the front of the group of students, Dan and Phil had hurried to the opposite end of the town by the Shreiking Shack. Combining effort, they lifted a nearby table from the center of the village and scooted it as far away from the others as possible. It was a perfect perch, with a warm blanket spread beneath them on the hard wood.

They had been talking about how little they wanted to return to classes. Today was their test day in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Dan was anything but ready to preform his Ridikulus charm. But no matter how much he complained about it, he wouldn't tell Phil why he was so nervous.

"Is it because of your fear?" He finally asked after a break in conversation. Dan took his head from where it had been settled in the crook of Phil's neck and looked at him.

"What?"

"The test, the charm. Are you scared-"

"I'm not scared."

"-nervous, because of what your biggest fear is? Because if that's the case, you just always have to remember that it's not real."

Dan sat up straighter, his hand falling from Phil's. He sighed, fiddling with his silver and green tie.

"Not quite. Not really. I know that it's not real, and I don't think that's going to be the problem…"

There was another pause.

"Dan, are you sure you even know what your biggest fear is?"

"No. No, I'm not sure. What if it's something that will make people laugh? What if I'm ridiculed for my biggest fear?" He blurted.

Phil frowned at him, pulling Dan close once more. "You know that no one would do that. Dan, we're the gay couple of hogwarts. If we weren't ridiculed for that, then there's nothing anyone would make fun of you for in DADA."

The snow fell quietly around them, pooling on their blanket and on their lashes, dusting their hair and their robes.

"And besides, if anyone does try to laugh, I'll just beat them up." He gave a mock flex. Dan laughed, smacking his arm.

"Oh, please. A Hufflepuff like you? You couldn't hurt a fly."

"Just because I'm a Hufflepuff doesn't mean I can't hold my own." He stated, his voice mischievous.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Believe me, the times Louise would backhand me? She should have been in Gryffindor."

They reminisced about their friend then, and wondered how she was in the muggle world. Eventually, they wandered down to get a butterbeer and chat with PJ and Chris. Dan hoped, prayed that the trip would last forever.

Of course, not many things went Dan's way.

Afternoon sunlight illuminated the classroom. Dan sat crammed next to his fellow sixth-year Slytherins, trying not to make eye contact with Phil across the room. Instead, he focused on each of his classmate's performances. Spiders, heights, the paranormal. Dan flinched at the last one, the fear also raising his heart rate. But that couldn't be it. No, Dan had larger fears than that of Samara lurking behind the cupboard doors.

"Dan Howell?"

It was time. He stood, edging his way down the seats and tripping to a stop in front of the large cabinet. Chris winked at him from the first row of green and silver. Dan, again, forced himself not to look for Phil. Instead, he drew his wand, took a very deep breath, and nodded.

The doors swung open. He waited for a beast, a darkness, anything to consume him in a dramatic engulfment. He waited. But what stepped from the shelves was a boy. A boy with hair dark enough to absorb all light, with eyes bright enough to captivate anyone in the room. He watched Phil stumble from the cupboard, his yellow and black tie strung loosely around his neck. His white shirt was half tucked in, sleeves messily rolled. The black robe around his shoulders was tilted ever so slightly to the left. Dan's breath caught in his throat - he was exactly the same. The same as the boy who had held him just hours before in the falling snow.

But if this was his Phil, why was he emerging from the Boggart cabinet?

Phil finally looked up at Dan, who was frozen with his wand pointed stiffly ahead. And Phil gave a sympathetic little smirk. There was something off about him….

"Dan." He said. And his voice was the same. What was different?

Phil sauntered around behind Dan and rose to whisper in his ear. "Why would I ever waste my time on you?"

The voice was so sickeningly familiar, the breath on his face something he had learned to be a calming gesture. But Dan felt anything but calm.

Phil circled back around in front of him. "A Slytherin? Really? Did you actually expect me to be able to fall in love with a Slytherin?" He laughed, but his laugh was hollow. Dan's chest tightened uncontrollably.

"So naive, Dan. You actually thought, truly believed that I could love you. How pitiful." He smirked again. "Just like you to make idiotic mistakes trying to follow your heart. Worthless."

The words echoed in his head, and Dan didn't even notice the tears streaking his face. It wasn't the words that hurt him, pierced him through with a knife, but rather where the words were stemming from. His Phil, the boy whom he trusted, his first outlet, first crush, first kiss - it was a nightmare, folding back on him.

Because of course Phil didn't want him. Who would ever want him?

"You're nothing, Dan. No one will ever love you because there is nothing there to love. Your insecurities cover you up and smother everything good about you. No one, not even me would be able to see past that." He took Dan's tear-soaked face in one hand roughly. "You should have accepted that years ago when you still had the chance to pull the plug."

"RIDDIKULUS!"

Phil fell apart like dust, evaporating into black and fading into the cupboard with a loud SNAP of the doors. It took Dan a moment to realize there was a hand on his wrist, and that the counter spell was not uttered of his own accord.

Phil, real Phil, lovely Phil, spun Dan around by the shoulders and shook him, his hands tight and shaking. His eyes were round and brimming with tears. Every bone in his body seemed to convey the same message; are you ok?

Dan realized, then, that he was still standing in the middle of his DADA classroom. He had been crying, and his wand was on the ground. It was silent, apart from Phil's frantic attempt at getting his attention.

"Dan? Dan, it wasn't real, it wasn't real -" Phil pulled him into a secure embrace. Dan was still stiff.

"Do you really think I could ever say that to you? Dan, please, I would never, ever hurt you. Please. You're beautiful and talented and funny and lovely, so so lovely…" He hugged him tighter.

"Please don't leave me?"

"Never. Never ever, not in a hundred thousand years Dan."