AN: Write a story about three people being stuck in the lift. No emo stories allowed. ;D I choose Harry, Draco, and Goyle.
"Well well well, what do we have here?"
Harry grimaced at the all-too-familiar drawl, his mouth set in a straight line as the elevator doors opened. He stuffed his hands in his robe pockets immediately, to prevent himself from reaching for his wand.
"Malfoy," He acknowledged grudgingly, standing opposite the blonde and his companion, trying to put as much distance between them as he could, within the little metallic box.
"You don't have to worry, Potter," Malfoy continued silkily, as he watched Harry unceremoniously take up whatever space it was that existed between his back and the side of the lift furthest away from Malfoy. "Good looks aren't contagious, unfortunately."
Malfoy took the moment to bask in pleasure as he watched Harry's cheeks turn a few different shades of red, his jaw muscles twitching and convulsing. Goyle stood by stoically, only watching Harry's awkwardness in what might have been morbid fascination.
Harry inwardly felt gratitude towards Goyle for not contributing, even if it was only a small consolation. Perhaps some of them had really changed, since they all were in school.
Malfoy, of course, was not one of these people.
Harry turned ninety degrees and determinedly faced the door, mentally counting down the number of floors till he would be let out of here. Today is going to be a good day, Harry thought to himself. It was the day that he would finally crack the case his team had been working on for the past 6 weeks, it was the day that he would go home and get a good night's rest, and it was the day-
The lights chose that moment to flicker dangerously, before it decided to give in and die completely, leaving the three of them in complete darkness.
After a moment of shocked silence, Malfoy was the first to recover, with a startled "What the bloody hell?"
What the bloody hell indeed, the lift decided to answer him in the next moment, where it rattled to a jerky stop, suspending the three somewhere between the twelfth and twentieth floors. Harry grabbed for the bars lining the sides of the lifts to steady himself, as he was caught off guard. Malfoy very nearly lost his balance and leaned against the wall for support, waiting for the damned shaking to stop.
"This damn Ministry…" Malfoy immediately started rattling off. "I swear, if they don't even put enough funds into maintaining the stupid place-"
"Just leave it, Malfoy."
"Shut up, Potter. I can say whatever I like."
"Why, is your father going to hear about this?"
Harry never found out if that was true, because Malfoy's fist connected with his chin in the next moment, causing him to see stars. With Auror-honed reflexes, Harry brought an arm up to shield his face, drawing his wand with the other and casting a blind tickling spell. He knew that the hex found its mark when Malfoy uttered an "oh!" of surprise, and promptly busied himself giggling, as Harry nursed his aching chin.
In the next moment, both Malfoy and Harry were shoved into the lift wall by a mass that could only be Goyle. "The hell, Goyle?" was Malfoy's outraged response, and Harry, for once, agreed with him.
"Can't have you two killing each other…" Goyle mumbled absently, before releasing the two of them.
Just when the other two thought that Goyle had actually made a rational judgment for the first time in his life, Goyle added, "Or I'll be stuck in here forever."
Malfoy rolled his eyes. True, all too true.
Malfoy then moved gingerly to the other side of the lift, feeling his way around in the dark, grinning triumphantly when his fingers felt the edge of the slit that separated the two halves of the lift door. "Excellent," He muttered to himself, before attempting to shove the doors apart.
Obviously, nothing happened. Malfoy shoved his hand into his pocket, determined to blast the damn thing apart if needed and to hell with the consequences, only to pale as his hand met an empty pocket. Where was his wand? Don't tell me that during that brief fight-
"Dammit, Potter. How are we going to get out of here now? I can barely see a thing, let alone your ugly face, and am still feeling a little off since you cast that barbaric charm-"
"Malfoy, it was a tickling charm. It's not barbaric-"
"Irrelevant, Potter, as always. Now, get us out of here."
"I want us out of here too, but on a separate note-"
"At once, Potter. I have business waiting on the nineteenth floor. Do not keep me waiting."
"Uh, Malfoy?"
"What is it, Potter? It's bad enough that I have to share this breathing space with you, knowing that I could very well die any moment."
"I, uh… kinda… I need to pee."
"What did you say, Potter?" Malfoy's voice was practically laced with glee, and Harry could almost swear he had made out Malfoy's sniggering face, even in the dark.
Harry flushed in anger, squinting hopelessly in the darkness towards where he thought Malfoy's voice was coming from. "You heard me the first time, you prat. Now help me fix this!"
"How exactly do you wish for me to do that?" Malfoy's smooth voice loomed out of the darkness, impatient and haughty, as the blonde crossed his arms over his chest, although the gesture was unseen by the other two occupants.
"I don't know," Harry said very fast, still blushing furiously in the dark. (At least that wasn't a problem, Harry's mind bitterly said.) "I might need to, uh, go."
"Oh, no you don't," Malfoy said immediately, and Harry couldn't help but feel a twang of jealousy at the steadiness of his voice. "You're not doing that. Not in here. Hold it in, you girly prat."
Harry gritted his teeth, and reached up to wipe his brow. "Well then, Your Highness, do you have any other great ideas?"
"Obviously," Malfoy retorted, and Harry could already see the furrowed brow and rolling of eyes in the pitch blackness. "Seeing as I'm currently defenceless in light of your earlier stupidity, use your wand and Lumos the place, then blast us out, you stupid muggle."
"…"
"What's the matter? Of course, if you wanted to be dramatic enough, you could always just do it in the corner. Why, is the corner not good enough for you? Is the metal of a Ministry lift not worthy of coming into contact with the Saviour's body liquids? Shall I attempt to conjure a chamber pot made of gold? I'm sure-"
"Shut it, Malfoy," Harry interjected, although the bitterness was clearly present in his voice now. "During our scuffle, I lost my wand. Now, Lumos this place for us, and I can get this over with."
"…"
"Wait, what's the matter?"
"…"
"Malfoy? Dammit, if you're staying quiet on purpose-"
"I'm not, you idiotic twat. Do you really think I'd fool around, when my fate rests in your hands?"
"Wait… You lost your wand, too?"
"Very clever, Potter. I see that Auror training has finally honed those amazingly dull senses of yours." The voice reached Harry's ears from the darkness, piercing and snarky all the same, no matter if he couldn't see his intended target.
Harry decided to ignore the blonde pest for now, focusing on the most urgent matter on hand, especially since his mid region was starting to hurt. "Goyle… Where's your wand?"
"Oh… My wand's in my office," Goyle said after a long pause. "If you can Accio it, you can bring it here."
Harry's nostrils flared in the darkness, and he very nearly wanted to cry. Yes, Goyle. I would need your wand if I had mine. Harry bent down experimentally and felt around the patch of floor around his feet, hoping to chance upon his wand.
He didn't find his wand, but what he did find was Goyle's foot in his face.
"Oh, durn…" Goyle said softly. "That was on accident, I swear."
"I'm sure," Harry replied grimly, clutching his nose and stomach now as pain blossomed in the bridge of his nose. "I'm sure."
Harry felt a shaft of wood, and felt a ridiculous bubble of hope rise up in his chest as he raised it. Harry then frowned. The wand felt lighter than usual…
"Oh, I think I broke something," Goyle offered helpfully, his voice dangerously close to where Harry was. Harry sighed and straightened up, not able to stifle a miserable sniff as he held half of his wand in hand.
"Potter, just get it over with, you useless prick," came the dry voice of a certain blonde. "Just turn around and face the wall and just… Just do it."
Harry swallowed, trying to force some moisture into his throat and mouth, and raised a hand blindly to feel for the nearest wall, trying to gain his bearings. The brief scuffle they had had previously had managed to mess up his sense of direction, especially since they were now in the dark.
"Sigh…"
"Potter, we're not going to film you. Just get it over with so Goyle can blast us out of here."
"How am I supposed to do that, Draco?"
"Oh I don't know, maybe you're, you know, strong?"
"How does that help?"
"Just shut up. Potter, go."
Blushing furiously with humiliation by now, Harry indeed turned to face the wall (or what he thought was the wall, in the pitch blackness) and moved to go about taking care of his business. In truth, although he would never ever admit it, he had already been dangerously close to not caring, almost choosing to just do it even if Malfoy hadn't suggested it.
"… Potter, where are you?"
"Malfoy, just shut up. It'll be over in less than thirty se-"
"Potter, you better be facing the damn- WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"
"WHAT?"
"YOU'RE AIMING ON ME, YOU PRAT, TURN AROUND, TURN AROUND-"
"No no, you're fine. Don't turn, you might end up aiming at m-"
"POTTER I SWEAR IF YOU DON'T STOP RIGHT-"
"HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO STOP MID-PEE?"
"OH YOU BLASTED IDIOT-"
A floor above, Kingsley and Arthur paused mid-conversation while waiting for the lift, glancing at the closed lift doors. They could've sworn they had heard someone screaming.
A full five seconds of silence passed between them, before Kingsley shrugged. "Probably the folks down at magical artifacts. They were attacked by a rubber duck yesterday."
"Figure someone might be caught in the lift?" Arthur questioned worriedly, glancing at the doors.
Kingsley snorted. "Yeah, like who? Although if it were Potter and Malfoy ever stuck in a lift, I'd bet they'd have a great time…"