Merry Valentine's, everyone! Or whatever. This is my little gift to everyone else who isn't going out today or doing anything special. Even if you are, I hope you enjoy this! It started as an idea, which Lacrima forced me to turn into a sequel to "A Blue Yule", and then it sort of got out of hand. Also, I started writing it on Wednesday (or Thursday), and finished it late on Saturday night. So be proud of me! :P

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, obviously. Nor does this have anything to do with the movie "Blue Valentine"...

Warning: This is about three horny teenage boys. Things get a bit dirty.

A Blue Valentine

There are some things that Anthony Goldstein thinks about all the time, like food, sleep and homework. There are other things that he tries not to think about, like detention, the possibility of failing his O.W.L.s, and the fact that his boyfriend is in Canada, probably surrounded by a plethora of gorgeous Canadian men. And then there are the things that he doesn't want to think about, but can't help thinking about, such as sex.

Sex.

It seemed to be every teenage boy's topic of choice – but Anthony knew that he wasn't like the rest of them. He could get by just fine without filling his head with thoughts of filling his orifices.

Except that he couldn't.

Everywhere he went, it seemed he was noticing the men of Hogwarts. He couldn't get over how nice Zacharias Smith's hair looked when the sun hit it. Or how Blaise Zabini's haughty air only made him more attractive. Or what it might be like to have a threesome with the Weasley twins.

Or how goddamned handsome Terry Boot was.

Terry bloody Boot. One of his best friends. That was going too far.

Besides, Terry was going out with Lisa Turpin. And if there was ever a woman who kept good hold of what was hers, it would be Lisa.

This sudden fixation on sex, accompanied by the fact that Karl (the aforementioned Canadian boyfriend) was only writing about once a month now, was tearing Anthony apart. And it certainly didn't help that Terry and Michael seemed to have the exact same fixation, and constantly whinged about it.

Terry wasn't getting any with Lisa. Michael wasn't getting any with Ginny. It just seemed to go on and on and on.

And then one day something happened.

Well, it wasn't that something happened to Anthony. Not much happened to him personally. Karl still hadn't written to him, and he was still sexually frustrated.

It all began as he was leaving a meeting of Dumbledore's Army. Not much had sunk in, but that was ok, because he could just look it up in one of his many reference books. He was talking to Michael and Ginny about something that wasn't entirely clear, because Ernie Macmillan was walking a few feet in front and cut a really nice figure when he moved. But after a while, he vaguely registered that Terry was not there, and this bothered him, because Terry had most definitely left the room with them.

"I'll be back," he said, not caring whether they registered it or not, "I'm just going to check where Terry might be."

It was a poorly constructed sentence, Anthony thought as he turned around and retraced his steps, but he wasn't sure his mind could manage much more when it really wanted every second word to be "penis".

After walking around for a while, he heard voices coming from a nearby classroom, and decided to head over and investigate.

"What do you mean?" asked a voice that was very clearly Terry's.

"I... I just don't think I can go on like this," replied a voice that was most probably Lisa's.

"You're breaking up with me?" Terry cried, and quite rightly. In the lead-up to Lisa's eventually asking him out, he'd been pining after her for years. For her to break off the relationship would have come as quite the shock.

"It's just that... well... Terry, I don't know how to say this..."

"Just spit it out!" he snapped.

"I think I like women," Lisa said, so quietly that Anthony was surprised he could hear it.

"WHAT?" Terry yelped. "You're a LESBIAN?"

"Be quiet!" she said. "I don't want the whole school to know!"

"So you are, then?"

"I think so, yeah. I mean, lately I've been less attracted to you... I know, that sounds bad... but I've been... attracted to women."

"Anyone in particular?" Terry asked, curiosity evidently getting the better of him. "'Cause I don't care if she's a girl, I'll come after her if she's turned your head from me."

"No... no... just women in general," she explained. "I'm sorry, Terry. I'm a lesbian."

"Oh yeah?" Terry said, anger in his voice. "Well I'm gay!"

There was an incredibly awkward silence as Anthony checked to see that ears were still working correctly. Neither Lisa nor Terry were saying anything.

Apparently his ears still had their functionality.

And Terry was gay.

And single.

And handsome.

And gay. And single.

Sensing that the conversation might be coming to a close, Anthony quickly scurried off back to the Ravenclaw Tower. Three words were swarming around his mind as he power-walked: handsome, gay, single. However, these were soon replaced by the crushing thought that he and Terry had been best friends since practically their first day at Hogwarts.

Well, at least some time within the first month. Terry and Michael had met on the Hogwarts Express, and had instantly become the best of friends. It helped that they were sorted into the same house. The other two boys with whom they shared their dorm, Kevin Entwhistle and Stephen Cornfoot, had also latched onto each other, because they were quite boring and needed to stick together, otherwise older students and Slytherins would probably have eaten them for breakfast. So that just left Anthony. He wasn't as boring as Kevin and Stephen, but he wasn't as much fun as Terry and Michael. His hair was longer than all the boys', but shorter than all the girls'. He didn't have prowess on the broom nor anything much to distinguish him from the other Ravenclaws in the academic field.

And yet somehow, he just drifted towards Michael and Terry. Or perhaps they drifted towards him. Either way, within a few weeks of hanging out together it was clear that they were destined to be the best of friends for eternity, in that peculiarly eleven-year-old manner.

And now Michael was desperately trying to move on from his girlfriend because she wasn't putting out, Terry had just been dumped by his because it had turned out that she was a lesbian, and Anthony was very, very horny.

And Terry was handsome and gay and single and handsome.

Anthony reached the Tower, answered the riddle, and went up the stairs to his dorm two-at-a-time. Michael was alone in the room and sitting on his bed, reading through an essay. When he saw Anthony enter, he looked up and immediately began talking.

"Merlin, I am getting so sick of Ginny. Had I mentioned that?"

"Just a couple of times," Anthony muttered under his breath.

"She's so damn clingy, but it's like she doesn't want to get into my pants! I mean, this has gone way beyond hard-to-get! Seriously, we've been dating for – how long? – quite a while now. And she still won't—"

Michael was interrupted here by the pitiful sight of Terry trudging into the dorm, looking thoroughly downcast.

"Lisa dumped me," he said simply, flopping down on his bed.

"Holy fuck," Michael said, all thoughts of Ginny pushed from his mind. "Well, mate, what can I say? It was only a matter of time."

"Gee, Mike, that makes me feel so much better," Terry snapped. He was doing quite a good job pretending to be overly disappointed, Anthony thought to himself.

"Why'd she dump you?" Michael pressed. "I bet it was for Blaise Zabini. Heck, I'd dump Ginny for Blaise Zabini, and I don't even swing that way! No offence there, Ant."

"None taken," Anthony said quickly. It was now common knowledge between the three of them that he was not of the female-appreciating persuasion, and Michael had developed an odd habit of saying "no offence" whenever he so much as mentioned homosexuality, as thought anything that passed through his lips could be counted as a slur against Anthony.

"You're almost right," Terry said with a slight laugh. "She's a lesbian now. So obviously she can't keep going out with me."

"Merlin!" Michael exclaimed loudly. "Lisa Turpin, a lesbian. Well, I suppose it makes sense."

"You don't think I turned her off men, do you?" Terry asked, playing with the hem of his robes nervously.

"I'm sure you didn't," Anthony said, getting up and putting a comforting arm around Terry's shoulder.

"Nah," Michael said, "she can't help it if she digs a bit of pussy. It's only natural."

"Yeah, but we've been going out for nearly a year!" Terry cried. "Well... it would have been a year this Valentine's day."

"Dumped right before your anniversary," Michael said. "Harsh."

"Not that anniversaries have any bearing on the overall meaning of your relationship. They're arbitrary measures of romance," Anthony said, far too aware that his arm was still around Terry's shoulder. Handsome, gay, single.

"You would say that," Michael said with a laugh, "you haven't heard from your man in Canada in... how long, now?"

"I've lost count," Anthony admitted. "But he was in England for our anniversary! Not that that meant anything."

Terry put a reciprocal arm around Anthony's shoulder. "We can wallow in our misery together," he said.

Anthony was struck by just how easily so many other things he could wallow in with Terry slipped into his mind.

"We're a bunch of losers!" Michael said suddenly. "We all of us need to get laid! I need to ditch Ginny and find a girl who'll open her legs for me, Terry needs to find someone who isn't going to turn into a lesbian, and Anthony needs to... needs to dump Captain Canada, and fulfil his need for men elsewhere."

Sometimes it was remarkable just how well Michael hit the nail on the head.

"Right," Terry said. "Let's all three of us get laid by the end of the month, then."

"Unlikely," Anthony said.

"Come on," Michael said chirpily, "we're Ravenclaws! We can do anything to which we put our minds!"

"Then would it kill you to stop talking so loudly?" said Kevin, popping his head through the door. "It's almost nine-thirty! Some of us need to get to sleep!"

"Yeah," said Stephen, emerging from behind him. "We've been down in the common room for a while, waiting for you three to stop talking about sex. But now enough is enough."

"We'll go downstairs," Michael said immediately. Terry and Anthony nodded their heads in agreement.

When they got into the common room, where the crowd was beginning to thin out, Michael said "honestly, who in Merlin's name goes to sleep at nine-thirty?"

"I suppose they haven't got as many troubles as we do to keep them awake," Terry said melodramatically.

"Or they've done all their homework," Anthony suggested.

"Or," said Michael, collapsing in a chair by the fireplace, "their hands haven't discovered their crotches yet."

xxx

Anthony had made up his mind, stiffened his resolve and formed a plan. He would corner Terry after potions and confront him about the conversation he overheard. He wanted Terry to know that he was there – whether he wanted to talk about it, have a quick hand job or get married – Anthony would be there.

The lesson finished, and Michael said he was going to find Ginny and try to prise her legs apart with Alohomora and possibly a jelly-legs jinx. Of course, this fit perfectly into Anthony's plan, and he began as they made their way to the Great Hall for morning tea.

"Terry, can I talk to you about something a little bit delicate?"

"Go for it," said Terry, having cheered up considerably after Lisa told him that she had made a pass on Morag McDougal that hadn't gone down too well.

"I, uh... I overheard Lisa breaking up with you the other day."

"Oh," Terry said, blushing. "How much did you hear?"

"I heard you telling her that you're gay," Anthony said, very quickly so that the words couldn't try and stop themselves from emerging.

"Oh," Terry said again. "And... and you didn't hear anything after that?"

"N-no," Anthony said, "but I just wanted to let you know that if you feel like, I don't know, having a bit of a chat about it sometime, don't hesitate to come and find me."

"I'm not gay," Terry said bluntly, and Anthony felt like he was being slapped in the face.

"But you told her—"

"I was angry, and I suppose I just wanted her to feel how I felt when she told me that... that... you know."

Anthony nodded. Of course, it all made sense. But he couldn't help feeling a little disappointed. Handsome. Single. Straight.

"Sorry if I got your hopes up, mate," Terry joked with a laugh.

"Not at all," Anthony said, forcing himself to sound jovial. "You're my best friend, Terry; I don't want to get into your pants!"

Read: "You're my best friend, Terry; I can't believe that I want to get into your pants!"

"Good-o," Terry said. "So, doing anything for Valentine's Day?"

"Come on, Terry, you know how I feel about overt displays of affection."

"I don't know; you didn't seem to have any qualms about snogging Karl in front of the whole Beauxbatons contingent when they were leaving last year."

"He snogged me," Anthony corrected, "I had no choice in the matter."

Michael came bounding up to them at that point, grinning happily. "Guess what, men? I'm meeting my lovely lady in the Room tonight."

"Wonderful," Anthony deadpanned, "now we'll be hearing about it for the next few months on end."

"Hey!" Michael said. "I can't help it if I'm getting some this Valentine's... uh... week."

"Thanks for rubbing it in," Terry said.

"You're welcome."

xxx

That evening, Anthony sat alone in the library, a blank piece of parchment sitting before him. All that talk earlier had got him thinking – so Terry wasn't gay; well that was no great loss – there were plenty other fish in the sea. And by "the sea", he meant Hogwarts. Not Canada, all the way across the Atlantic Ocean. He was going to break up with Karl, and if he couldn't do it in purpose, a letter would have to do, even though Karl still hadn't replied to his last one.

He twirled his quill around in his fingers, poising himself for the hardest letter he had ever had to write.

Dear Karl,

As you are quite possibly aware, you still haven't replied to my last letter. Which is alright – take your time. However, I'm just clarifying this, as you may be wondering what cause I have for sending you this one.

Essentially I am writing because I feel a relationship of our nature is no longer viable. You live in Canada; I live in England. You are eighteen and working; I am sixteen and still at school. You reply to a letter after a month or so; I reply after a day.

To further rationalise this, I would like to make the point that having only seen you once in the last six months (possibly more), I am feeling rather deprived of activities of a sexual nature. As a teenage boy, such activities are vital to my hormonal development, and I feel that without a boyfriend who is in the same vicinity as myself I will not be able to fulfil these needs.

Furthermore, I find lots of men attractive, and have several times caught myself fantasising about others, despite being tied to you by the bonds of one evening over a year ago. You must understand that I feel terrible about looking at others that way, but would feel less so if we were no longer romantically involved.

I hope you will understand. I would however like it if we could go on communicating as pen-friends.

Yours sincerely,

A. Goldstein

Anthony signed off with a flourish and re-read the letter. Once he was convinced it was suitable for sending, he walked off to the owlery, gave it to his owl, and left with a smile on his face.

xxx

Something strange was happening to Terry Boot.

Ever since he'd so bluntly told Anthony that he'd misheard, and he was in fact heterosexual, he'd been having this weird feeling in the pit of his stomach that wouldn't go away. He thought perhaps he had spoken too harshly, but Anthony hadn't seemed too cut up about it. Nonetheless, it was an unpleasant feeling.

After he'd broken up with Lisa, Terry had been enjoying the vacuum in his mind that she had previously occupied. Sure, she was lovely and all, but she was a lesbian. It would be wrong of him to think about her in that way. And he wasn't planning on considering dating for quite a while now.

But then, as he lay in his bed that night, he started to wonder what it would be like being gay. It would probably be a lot harder, he reasoned, because it wasn't as easy to be open about your sexuality. Anthony was a walking example of that. And you could fall for any number of men, any number of whom would probably turn out to be straight.

Then again, there was none of the fussiness that there was with girls. Being with another guy, Terry thought, was probably just like masturbating, except more romantic. With girls, you had to buy them flowers and chocolate and maybe hold their hands a bit, and judging by Lisa and Ginny, they still wouldn't let you touch their boobs. With Anthony and Karl, they had never bought each other any silly presents or anything like that, and very rarely did any hand-holding in plain view of others, yet Terry was pretty sure they'd made it to third base, whatever that meant. Plus, unless they were one of those super-girly guys who you really only see in Muggle popular culture, a boyfriend would care less about your appearance than a girlfriend would.

The pros and cons were about equal, and Terry's thoughts had left him most confused indeed. Maybe he could be bisexual. Then he'd have the best of both worlds.

And then an idea struck him in the true Ravenclaw tradition (highly intelligent and scientific, but a little emotionally inept): if he told Anthony he was having issues with the whole being gay thing, he could maybe get Anthony to give him a kiss, or a hand job, or whatever it was gay men did, and that way he could work out for himself which way he swung. Anthony wouldn't mind – he'd told Terry plain and simple that he didn't like him in that way. They were best friends. And best friends don't fancy each other. Of course not.

It was the perfect plan.

xxx

Michael slumped down at the breakfast table the next morning, the thirteenth of February, bags under his eyes and anger radiating from his every pore.

"I take it last night didn't go fantastically, then," Anthony said.

"You could say that," Michael snapped.

"What happened?" Terry ventured.

"I actually thought it was the night," Michael said, "but more fool me. She just wanted to make out and do some touching and shit. She ditched at nine-ish and I spent the rest of the evening lying in the Astronomy Tower, spending some quality time with myself."

"Delightful," Anthony said, putting down his spoonful of banana yoghurt.

"Sorry," Michael said.

"So are you going to dump her or what?" Terry asked.

"I want to, but I doubt I've got the balls," Michael admitted. "I mean, I feel like Ginny wouldn't let me. She's holding onto me for some reason or another, and I suppose I've got to see it through."

"If a relationship isn't going the way you want it to, don't keep it going because you're afraid of hurting the other person's feelings. If you're not enjoying it, there's no point," Anthony said.

"Merlin," Michael said, "you've broken up with Frenchy, haven't you?"

There was no denying that the boy had powers of perception.

"I sent a letter to him last night," Anthony confirmed. "I just couldn't keep it going."

"Good for you!" Terry said. "I never liked him much anyway."

Anthony laughed. "Glad to see I have your blessing, mother."

"Any time," Terry said with a grin.

After breakfast, Michael had decided to go and make a nuisance of himself to Ginny so that maybe she'd be pushed over the edge. Anthony and Terry walked off to wait outside the Transfiguration classroom.

"Anthony," Terry began, "I was wondering if I could ask you something..."

"About what?"

"Uh, you know that conversation we had yesterday about me not being gay? Well, I wasn't entirely honest with you. I mean, I don't know. I could be."

"You could be..."

"Gay. Yes."

Anthony certainly hadn't been expecting that. His eyes were wide as myriad impossibilities unfurled before him.

"I want your help," Terry said. "I want to... I want you to help me work whether I'm gay or not. Or bisexual."

"A-and how would I go about helping you with that?" Anthony asked, privately hoping it had something to do with his mouth.

Terry was red as a cherry, and barely managed to squeak out his next words. "Pretend I'm Karl, or something. I know... I know you don't fancy me in that way, so if we mess around a bit, it'll make no difference to our friendship, right? It'll help me sort some stuff out, and you'll be less sexually frustrated."

Anthony was speechless for a few moments. "You want me to mess around with you? What does that entail?"

"I don't know; I've never been with a guy before. What does it entail?"

Anthony couldn't believe his luck. Terry wanted to "be" with him. Sexually. And because they were best friends, it would make no difference in the long term, would it?

Of course it bloody would.

Terry was handsome, single, and wanted some man-on-man action. Of course it would change their friendship. Anthony thought he might go crazy.

They reached the Transfiguration room.

"Meet me at the Prefects' Bathroom after dinner. You can find out what it entails."

xxx

The next couple of hours all merged together for Anthony. All he could think about was Terry - handsome, single, maybe even gay. Surely it was unhealthy for him to be thinking about his best friend in this manner? One or two times he thought of talking to Michael about it, but what would Michael say? He'd just laugh.

"So she still hasn't broken up with me," Michael was saying over dinner, "so I reckon I've gotta try a bit harder."

"I still don't get why you don't just let her down gently," Terry said.

"It's simple, really," Michael began. "If I dump her, then there's no guarantee that I'll get another girlfriend. But if I make myself infuriating enough and pester her about sex, either she'll get so annoyed and dump me, or cave in."

"The perfect plan," Terry said sarcastically.

"Yes, yes," Michael said, "laugh all you like. It'll work, I guarantee."

Anthony stared into his plate. All this talk of sex really wasn't helping.

Almost as though it knew that a distraction was required, at that very moment an owl swooped into the Great Hall and landed smack in front of Anthony.

He pulled the small piece of paper off its leg, and read as it flew away:

Tony,

That's ok. I've been sleeping with my flatmate.

Hope you'll still write - I do enjoy your verbose letters.

Karl.

Well, if that didn't just say it all.

Terry and Michael took it in turns to read the letter over.

"Bastard," Michael said. "Couldn't he have been any nicer about it?"

"It's just his way," Anthony said, even though he probably didn't need to defend his ex-boyfriend. "He's straight and to the point."

"More like gay and to the point," Michael joked, hastily adding "no offence".

"None taken," Anthony said. "But, uh... if you guys don't mind, I think I'll just go and sit down for a while. This has sort of... winded me..."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Terry said, looking at Anthony expectantly.

It clicked. In his shock at the letter from Karl, he had all but forgotten what he had promised to do that night.

"Oh, uh... if you like."

Terry began to get up.

"Shall I come too?" Michael offered.

"Don't worry, I've got this one covered," Terry said. Michael looked confused, but didn't argue.

"Clever move," Terry said as soon as they were out of the Hall, "getting that letter sent during dinner so we could get out while no-one's about."

"I didn't get it sent," Anthony said rather more rudely than was necessary, "it was sent to me."

"Oh," Terry said. "Sorry."

"It's alright," Anthony said, "I think a trip to the Prefects' Bathroom is just what I need to take my mind off things."

"I can be quite distracting when I try," Terry said, just a hint of a salacious tone in his voice. "I think you'll find that I don't disappoint."

"Oh good," Anthony said, the smile beginning to grow on his lips.

They had reached the Prefects' Bathroom, and Anthony gave the password to get in. They walked in with no one in sight in the corridor, and closed the door hastily.

"So what happens now?" Terry asked.

Anthony kissed him.

Kissing Terry, he very soon concluded, was quite unlike kissing Karl. Perhaps it was because when he first kissed Karl, he was completely inexperienced and excessively daunted by the idea of a tongue in his mouth. But Terry had kissed Lisa, and Anthony had done his fair share of snogging since that first kiss, so both of them new exactly what they were doing and settled easily into the kiss.

There was still the fact hanging over him that oh Merlin, he was kissing his best friend, and shock horror, it was not repulsive or slightly awkward – it was amazing.

When Anthony stopped thinking about how bloody brilliant the kiss was, he noticed that his pants were around his ankles, Terry's hands were up his robes, and dangerously close to his growing erection.

"What the—?" he said, pulling away from the kiss. "When did— how—?"

"Sorry," Terry said, "too soon? Not soon enough?"

"Uh," Anthony began, "I suppose it's fine. Do go ahead."

Terry responded by yanking Anthony's robes off and casting them aside unceremoniously. As he began to loosen Anthony's tie, Anthony forced himself to reach beneath Terry's robes and undo his belt buckle. This was beyond awkward. Of course they'd seen each other wearing very little on numerous occasions – that was just one of the perks (or downsides, depending on how you saw it) of sharing a dorm. But this was different. This was sexual.

And so help him, Anthony Goldstein was very much enjoying himself.

Within moments, they were both standing there in nothing but their underpants. Anthony's glasses were placed safely to one side, but thankfully he was short-sighted, so he could see Terry's alarmingly close pants-bulge in substantial detail. But he tried not to stare. Terry, on the other hand, plainly had no dignity – his eyes refused to meet Anthony's, choosing to rest substantially lower instead.

"That was nice," Terry said vacantly, "but, uh... is this just going to be kissing wearing very little? Or..."

Anthony was astounded. "You really want to do this, don't you?"

"Do what? Test out the whole gay thing?"

"This," Anthony said, taking a deep breath and plunging his hand into Terry's pants. Terry gasped, eyes bulging.

"This," he said, "this is what being gay entails?"

"Pretty much," Anthony said, looking anywhere but at his right hand, which was currently in the process of administering a dodgy hand-job. (It had been a while, okay?)

"I could get used to this," Terry conceded, tentatively putting his own hand forward. "I believe this is called 'mutual masturbation'."

The sexual tension in the room was such that you could cut it with a knife.

Then and there, Anthony knew that he would never look at Terry in the same way again. Not now that he knew what good hand-jobs he gave.

xxx

"Good morning, my darlings!" rang out a falsetto trill at seven in the morning on Valentine's Day. "I want you up bright and early for this beautiful day of the fourteenth of February."

"Merlin, Michael," Terry said, rubbing his hand over his eyes, "cut us some slack. Not all of us have to get ready for hot dates with our sexless girlfriends today."

"Ouch," Michael said loudly, directing his speech in the direction of Stephen and Kevin's beds, "I'm offended. Come on, Boot, get up. You too, Goldstein!"

"Staying in bed today," Anthony mumbled, eyes closed. "Bugger off."

"No you're not," Michael asserted, climbing onto Anthony's bed and lying down next to him. "Besides," he said in a whisper, as Terry got up and pulled his slippers on, "things were a bit frosty between you and Terry last night, and I don't give a fuck what's going on between you; you need to get out of bed and bloody well sort it out."

"Nothing's going on," Anthony said, still not opening his eyes. "In fact, so little is going on that it's actually gone into negative values."

Terry went into the bathroom.

"I find that hard to believe," Michael said. "If there's one thing I get straight Os in, it's reading people. Especially you and Terry. I can read you like books. And something happened last night when you left dinner early. You had an argument, I'm presuming. And now you're not talking. So sort it out, okay?"

Michael was half-right. What had actually happened was that Terry and Anthony had spent a rather enjoyable forty-five minutes in the Prefects' Bathroom after leaving dinner early. But there was no argument – simply a strange look on Terry's face, the words "I need to think some things over", and an awkward silence hanging between them for the rest of the night.

Anthony had already ascertained that his feelings for Terry went beyond the realm of friendship, and were skipping gaily into the magical land of Serious Crushing. In fact, he wasn't sure how he'd never noticed it before, but Terry was not only handsome, single and possibly gay, he was also intelligent, witty and a damn good friend to boot (pardon the pun), and Anthony couldn't think of anyone who he'd be prouder to call his boyfriend.

"Come on," Michael said, "get your lazy arse out of bed."

"Fine," Anthony said, pulling himself up to a sitting position.

"Dickwhistle and Corncock must have put silencing charms around their beds last night," Michael said, "because I'm talking really loudly and they still haven't told me to shut it yet."

"Probably," Terry said, emerging from the bathroom.

"Oh, good," Michael said, "you finally found your way out of the S-bend. I need to get ready for a day of possible hot lovin' with my beautiful ginger girl."

"That's quite change of heart," Terry said.

"Oh, it will be," Michael said, twirling past Terry and shutting himself in the bathroom.

"I wish he'd just break up with her," Terry said, sitting on the edge of Anthony's bed. "How are you this morning?"

"Tired," Anthony said. "I just want to sleep all day."

"That's normal after a night like last night," Terry said, and Anthony couldn't tell whether he was being serious or not.

"What are you implying?"

"I'm implying that I've got a couple of things to attend to this morning, but I will meet you at the Three Broomsticks at midday. Okay?"

Anthony was taken aback. This audacious flirtation was not what he would expect after Terry's reaction to their little encounter the previous night.

"Listen," Terry said, "I was a bit of a dick to you last night, I'll be the first to admit it. But you're going to have to trust me on this one. Okay?"

"Fine, fine," Anthony said. "Three Broomsticks at midday."

"Precisely," Terry said. With that, he got up and dashed out of the dorm, presumably aware that he was still wearing his pyjamas.

xxx

Never one to disrespect a friend's wishes, Anthony turned up at the Three Broomsticks a few minutes before midday. There was no sign of Terry anywhere, so he ordered himself a butterbeer and took a seat in view of the door, but out of view of anyone who might want to talk to him. Not that anyone really would.

But on-the-dot at twelve, Terry all but burst through the door and, noticing Anthony immediately, took the seat opposite him.

"So," Terry began, "I figured that a crowded pub would be the best place for a deep and meaningful conversation, because no-one will be able to hear me being sentimental over this din."

Anthony smiled. "I love it when men get sentimental. Go on, then."

"So I've thought a lot about this, and I'm pretty sure that I'm at least half-gay, if not more. You know when you told me that you'd overheard my break-up with Lisa?"

"Yes?"

"I was a bit rude, so bluntly telling you that I wasn't gay, and I started thinking about it. And the more I thought about it, the more confused I got."

"Tut tut," Anthony joked, "that's not very Ravenclaw of you."

"Tell me about it," Terry said, as though the very thought had already crossed his mind on several occasions. "There's a lot of stuff in the middle which you don't really want to hear, but basically I was even more confused after last night, because I thought that seeing as you're one of my best friends it'd make no difference to anything. Which wasn't how it felt, so you understand my confusion."

"I do," Anthony said. "Although I have to admit, I did know all along that I was digging myself a hole."

"As in?"

"Well, I, uh..."

Anthony was suddenly aware that what he was about to say was incredibly stupid-sounding. But perhaps he needed to say it anyway.

"I can't go back to thinking of you in solely your capacity as a friend now."

"Thanks for putting that into words for me," Terry said with a laugh. "You've pretty much explained why we're here now."

"Why are we here now?"

"Because we're on a date, stupid," Terry said.

Anthony blushed. "Then I suggest that we leave this crowded pub before I get the compulsion to do something inappropriate."

"Good idea," Terry said, getting up. Anthony followed seconds after.

As it turned out, "something inappropriate" turned out to be a lengthy discussion about how the fact that they were "going out" wouldn't change their friendship whatsoever. "Going out" was the term they'd settled on after Terry had admitted he didn't like the word "boyfriend" (or "girlfriend", for that matter) and Anthony had put forward his objections to "dating", which he said was far too mainstream for an intellectual such as himself.

"What do you think we should tell Michael?" Terry asked as they walked back to the Castle after a good session of snogging, the second half of "something inappropriate".

"Why don't we just not tell him anything for the time being," Anthony said, "until things are a little less tense with him and Ginny."

But as it happened, they didn't need to tell Michael, because he reconsidered the "argument" the previous night, noted that both of them were absent until dinner, and put two and two together.

They sat down most innocently opposite him at the Ravenclaw table that evening. Michael took one look at them and said "Merlin, didn't take either of you long to move on!"

Anthony suddenly became very interested in his food, while Terry embarked on an impassioned defence of his heterosexuality, of which Michael wasn't buying a word.

"Listen," he said, "the important thing is that you two are happy. I wouldn't want my best friends moping about all the time. That said, I wouldn't want them snogging around me all the time either, you know what I mean?"

"Message received loud and clear," Terry said.

Anthony just smiled to himself. He was obviously dreadfully lucky to have two such amazing people for his best friends. He couldn't possibly imagine his life being any better than this.

Then again, he mused, thinking back to the previous evening, maybe he could. He made a mental note to leave dinner early more often.

So what did you think? Every review is loved - SO MUCH. Come on, people, give me a Valentine review~

By the way, to anyone who read "A Blue Yule" and particularly liked Karl, I'd just like to apologise. Blame Lacrima for that plot twist.

Now I'm going to have to make a whole series of one-shots about these boys. I love them to bits.

- Legs