A/N: Has it been two months already? Please forgive me. I don't mean to be so evil. It just happens, but I rpomise that the next chapter will be out in less than a month. I promise!
Thank you VenusPrincess, Midnight Reader, coriander, Foxsong, HPMystery, Jade Diamond, Silent Stalker, Sailor Galaxie, Mystica, Glitter Flame, Rehanna, Redhawk, RandomThought, Silverfox, Annclaire, and Mistique.
Special thanks to Rubicon, who reminds me when I need to update this ficcy.
***
"Okay," Seamus began, " so the first plan failed due to-"
"Justin's complete naiveté," Draco finished.
"Right. But the second plan-"
"Isn't much better, but we've got to try anyway," said Dean.
"What have I done to make you guys hate me so much?" Justin asked miserably.
"Hate you? Justin, we're doing this because we love you," Draco said, pretending to be hurt.
"Is that a confession?" Seamus inquired.
"Shut up," Draco snapped.
"Maybe we shouldn't be setting up Justin and Harry," Dean remarked.
"Dean, right now you are the only Gryffindor I don't have a problem with. If you want to ruin that, keep talking." Seamus giggled.
"No need to get all defensive, love," he said, resting a hand on Draco's shoulder.
"Don't touch me," Draco said, swatting at Seamus's hand.
"Tell me, are you straight or asexual?"
"No comment. Anything I say will only encourage you."
Justin moaned. He was certain that this was going to fail. He was doubly certain because he didn't even know what the plan was. Seamus seemed rather excited about it, which was all the more reason for Justin to worry. "Er...what did you call this plan?"
"An exercise in desperation." Draco replied shortly.
"It's a bit unconventional," Seamus admitted.
"I'm not doing it," Justin said flatly.
"What?" Seamus cried.
"I'm not doing it. I don't know what you're up to, but I can only take so much embarrassment in one lifetime."
"But Ron has put so much work into this."
"I don't care."
"Justin, give it up. You know how Seamus is. You can do one of two things: nothing and like it," Dean explained. Justin's eyes turned to Draco.
"Please, Draco. I'm appealing to whatever sense of decency you have-"
"I'm sorry. There's none of that here. Looks like you're SOL. C'mon." Draco grabbed Justin by the elbow and steered him out of the room.
"You know, you're the worst of the lot."
"I know."
Draco guided Justin through the halls before pausing before a door. He paused before it and looking around opened the door. "After you," he said, steeping aside. Justin took a tentative step forward and peered into the dimly lit room. He stumbled forward into the room (which was a glorified closet, really) and heard the door slam behind him.
"Draco!" he tried the knob. Locked. "Bastard," he muttered.
"Justin?" Justin froze.
"Harry? What are you doing here?"
"To be honest, I have no idea. You?"
"None," Justin replied. It wasn't exactly a lie. "Where are you? I can't see a damn thing. Fuck!" He kicked at the box that had nearly made him go crashing to the ground.
Harry giggled. "What?"
"I've never heard you swear."
"I hate when people say that. I mean honestly, I know I'm in Hufflepuff, but that doesn't mean I'm a goody-good."
"Are you?"
"Well, yeah." Harry laughed again.
"Have a seat," he said.
"Where are you?"
"Far corner. Your left." Somehow, Justin made his way to the afore mentioned corner. He sat.
"Um, Justin?"
"Yeah?"
"Though I'm not exactly complaining, is it positively necessary for you to sit in my lap?"
Justin leapt up mortified and muttered that he actually preferred to stand.
Having always been shy and prone to nervousness when presented with awards for his artwork, Justin's little brother once advised him to picture the crowd in their underwear. Having had great success with the technique, he tried it now. However, that image of Harry did not have quite the effect Justin was looking for and he quickly turned several shades of pink that Harry could make out as his vision adjusted to the semidarkness.
"Are you alright?" Harry asked. Justin put his face in his hands.
"Actually, no. I'm not alright," he muttered.
"Anything I can do?" //Short of not existing for a while...//
"No," the Hufflepuff replied. The rustling of fabric caught his attention. He looked up to find Harry occupied in unfastening his robe. "What are you doing?" he cried, aghast.
"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm baking in here." //And I'm melting.// Justin had remembered Harry telling Ron about the horrors of Hermione dragging him to what seemed like every clothing store in London, but Justin had never seen proof of the gauntlet until now. Apparently tired of wearing baggy clothes all his life, Harry had gone running to the other extreme. The clothes he wore under his robe were nearly skintight.
Harry looked up and Justin averted his eyes, willing himself to stare at the floor and not Harry. Harry stood beside him and tilted his chin up. "Are you positive you're alright? You look like you're about to faint." //I might just do that.// In fact he did.
He woke up an undetermined amount of time later with Harry's lips on his in what he immediately recognized as an attempt at Muggle CPR. "Oh, thank goodness," Harry sighed. "I was getting worried for a minute."
"How long have we been in here?" Harry shrugged.
"An hour or two? What's this all about? If this is Ron's idea of a joke, it isn't very funny."
"Sure it is. I'm sure he thinks it's very funny that we're both locked in a closet and sooner or later we'll have to come out." It was Harry's turn to blush.
"That's a loaded term," he said, offering his hand to Justin, who gratefully accepted it.
"Everything's loaded. You say one innocent phrase and all of sudden your best friends are ready to drape you in rainbows and expecting you to burst out in show tunes."
"I thought you had a girlfriend."
"Not anymore."
"What happened?"
"She dumped me and asked me if I was gay."
"Are you?" Justin paused.
"Well...yes."
"Oh."
"Feel free to panic now. I'm gay and I'm a teenager. I dare say you're in mortal danger, Harry. I'd advise you to run, but you wouldn't get very far," Justin laughed.
"I'm not panicking," Harry replied quietly.
"Why not? I am! We're locked in a closet for Christ's sake."
"Sooner or later Ron will have to confess. We'll get out."
"You do realize that this one of those funny closets?"
"Is it draped in rainbows too?"
"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that. This closet vanishes on Saturdays and doesn't reappear until Monday."
"Oh shit."
"Yeah." Silence. They both ran to the door.
"Help! Help! Let us out! Help!" The door opened and Justin and Harry collapsed in an undignified heap on the floor.
"Potter! Finch-Fletchley! What on earth are you doing in there?" asked Professor McGonagall.
"Bad joke," Justin muttered, scrambling to his feet.
"A joke?"
"No harm done," Harry said, looking to Justin for help. But Justin was gone. A certain Irish boy was in severe trouble.
"Seamus You-are-a-dead-little-Irishman Finnigan!" Justin yelled upon entering his dorm.
"Little? Did you hear that, Dean? He called me little. Who does he think he is?"
"An incensed-"
"But accurate," Draco interrupted.
"Rich boy?" Dean finished.
"Accurate? Like you would know, Malfoy," Ron snorted.
"That can be arranged," Seamus said.
"Or not," Draco replied.
"You!"
"Yes, Justin?"
"Where do you get off locking me in a closet that vanishes for days at a time?"
"Where do I get off? I don't think you want to know the answer to that question. Was that the vanishing closet? Dean!"
"What?"
"You told me that the closet two doors down was the vanishing one."
"My mistake."
"Your mistake! Did it ever occur to you that maybe I didn't want into Harry's pants?" Justin inquired.
"Why no! Are you saying that you don't want to fuck him?"
"I'm sorry but that was too much information for me!" Ron objected.
"Look, your best friend is the most shaggable guy in this school- with one or two exceptions," Seamus added, glancing at Draco. "Femmes and males alike want him. Deal with it. Do you want to sleep with him, Justin?"
"No. I mean, eventually, maybe but I just..."
"Aww! Justin's a romantic! He wants to get to know Potter first," Draco cooed, grinning.
"Basically."
"Why didn't you say so? That requires a whole other strategy."
"Seamus, I don't think this is working. Maybe we should give up," Justin sighed. Draco grabbed Justin's hands.
"Do you really like Po- Harry?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Do you want to go out with him?"
"I'm so tired-"
"Yes or no."
"Yes."
"Then you will. I won't let you give up." Draco said, squeezing Justin's hands. Justin smiled.
"Thank you."
"I'm dreaming. Draco Malfoy caring about someone other than himself? Pinch me. Ouch! I said pinch, not punch, Malfoy!"
"Really?" Draco said innocently. "I could've sworn you said punch, Weasley. My mistake."
"Arse."
"What? Punch you again? If you say so-"
"Ouch! You bastard! Ouch! Miserable git. Hey! You sodding- marvelous person, you," Ron ended rubbing his arm.
"That's what I thought you said, Weasley."
***
I'm sorry for the wait, but I've been so busy. Here's to wishing for free time. Thank you so much for bearing with me! Comments and criticism much appreciated!
Love always,
J. Silver
Thank you VenusPrincess, Midnight Reader, coriander, Foxsong, HPMystery, Jade Diamond, Silent Stalker, Sailor Galaxie, Mystica, Glitter Flame, Rehanna, Redhawk, RandomThought, Silverfox, Annclaire, and Mistique.
Special thanks to Rubicon, who reminds me when I need to update this ficcy.
***
"Okay," Seamus began, " so the first plan failed due to-"
"Justin's complete naiveté," Draco finished.
"Right. But the second plan-"
"Isn't much better, but we've got to try anyway," said Dean.
"What have I done to make you guys hate me so much?" Justin asked miserably.
"Hate you? Justin, we're doing this because we love you," Draco said, pretending to be hurt.
"Is that a confession?" Seamus inquired.
"Shut up," Draco snapped.
"Maybe we shouldn't be setting up Justin and Harry," Dean remarked.
"Dean, right now you are the only Gryffindor I don't have a problem with. If you want to ruin that, keep talking." Seamus giggled.
"No need to get all defensive, love," he said, resting a hand on Draco's shoulder.
"Don't touch me," Draco said, swatting at Seamus's hand.
"Tell me, are you straight or asexual?"
"No comment. Anything I say will only encourage you."
Justin moaned. He was certain that this was going to fail. He was doubly certain because he didn't even know what the plan was. Seamus seemed rather excited about it, which was all the more reason for Justin to worry. "Er...what did you call this plan?"
"An exercise in desperation." Draco replied shortly.
"It's a bit unconventional," Seamus admitted.
"I'm not doing it," Justin said flatly.
"What?" Seamus cried.
"I'm not doing it. I don't know what you're up to, but I can only take so much embarrassment in one lifetime."
"But Ron has put so much work into this."
"I don't care."
"Justin, give it up. You know how Seamus is. You can do one of two things: nothing and like it," Dean explained. Justin's eyes turned to Draco.
"Please, Draco. I'm appealing to whatever sense of decency you have-"
"I'm sorry. There's none of that here. Looks like you're SOL. C'mon." Draco grabbed Justin by the elbow and steered him out of the room.
"You know, you're the worst of the lot."
"I know."
Draco guided Justin through the halls before pausing before a door. He paused before it and looking around opened the door. "After you," he said, steeping aside. Justin took a tentative step forward and peered into the dimly lit room. He stumbled forward into the room (which was a glorified closet, really) and heard the door slam behind him.
"Draco!" he tried the knob. Locked. "Bastard," he muttered.
"Justin?" Justin froze.
"Harry? What are you doing here?"
"To be honest, I have no idea. You?"
"None," Justin replied. It wasn't exactly a lie. "Where are you? I can't see a damn thing. Fuck!" He kicked at the box that had nearly made him go crashing to the ground.
Harry giggled. "What?"
"I've never heard you swear."
"I hate when people say that. I mean honestly, I know I'm in Hufflepuff, but that doesn't mean I'm a goody-good."
"Are you?"
"Well, yeah." Harry laughed again.
"Have a seat," he said.
"Where are you?"
"Far corner. Your left." Somehow, Justin made his way to the afore mentioned corner. He sat.
"Um, Justin?"
"Yeah?"
"Though I'm not exactly complaining, is it positively necessary for you to sit in my lap?"
Justin leapt up mortified and muttered that he actually preferred to stand.
Having always been shy and prone to nervousness when presented with awards for his artwork, Justin's little brother once advised him to picture the crowd in their underwear. Having had great success with the technique, he tried it now. However, that image of Harry did not have quite the effect Justin was looking for and he quickly turned several shades of pink that Harry could make out as his vision adjusted to the semidarkness.
"Are you alright?" Harry asked. Justin put his face in his hands.
"Actually, no. I'm not alright," he muttered.
"Anything I can do?" //Short of not existing for a while...//
"No," the Hufflepuff replied. The rustling of fabric caught his attention. He looked up to find Harry occupied in unfastening his robe. "What are you doing?" he cried, aghast.
"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm baking in here." //And I'm melting.// Justin had remembered Harry telling Ron about the horrors of Hermione dragging him to what seemed like every clothing store in London, but Justin had never seen proof of the gauntlet until now. Apparently tired of wearing baggy clothes all his life, Harry had gone running to the other extreme. The clothes he wore under his robe were nearly skintight.
Harry looked up and Justin averted his eyes, willing himself to stare at the floor and not Harry. Harry stood beside him and tilted his chin up. "Are you positive you're alright? You look like you're about to faint." //I might just do that.// In fact he did.
He woke up an undetermined amount of time later with Harry's lips on his in what he immediately recognized as an attempt at Muggle CPR. "Oh, thank goodness," Harry sighed. "I was getting worried for a minute."
"How long have we been in here?" Harry shrugged.
"An hour or two? What's this all about? If this is Ron's idea of a joke, it isn't very funny."
"Sure it is. I'm sure he thinks it's very funny that we're both locked in a closet and sooner or later we'll have to come out." It was Harry's turn to blush.
"That's a loaded term," he said, offering his hand to Justin, who gratefully accepted it.
"Everything's loaded. You say one innocent phrase and all of sudden your best friends are ready to drape you in rainbows and expecting you to burst out in show tunes."
"I thought you had a girlfriend."
"Not anymore."
"What happened?"
"She dumped me and asked me if I was gay."
"Are you?" Justin paused.
"Well...yes."
"Oh."
"Feel free to panic now. I'm gay and I'm a teenager. I dare say you're in mortal danger, Harry. I'd advise you to run, but you wouldn't get very far," Justin laughed.
"I'm not panicking," Harry replied quietly.
"Why not? I am! We're locked in a closet for Christ's sake."
"Sooner or later Ron will have to confess. We'll get out."
"You do realize that this one of those funny closets?"
"Is it draped in rainbows too?"
"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that. This closet vanishes on Saturdays and doesn't reappear until Monday."
"Oh shit."
"Yeah." Silence. They both ran to the door.
"Help! Help! Let us out! Help!" The door opened and Justin and Harry collapsed in an undignified heap on the floor.
"Potter! Finch-Fletchley! What on earth are you doing in there?" asked Professor McGonagall.
"Bad joke," Justin muttered, scrambling to his feet.
"A joke?"
"No harm done," Harry said, looking to Justin for help. But Justin was gone. A certain Irish boy was in severe trouble.
"Seamus You-are-a-dead-little-Irishman Finnigan!" Justin yelled upon entering his dorm.
"Little? Did you hear that, Dean? He called me little. Who does he think he is?"
"An incensed-"
"But accurate," Draco interrupted.
"Rich boy?" Dean finished.
"Accurate? Like you would know, Malfoy," Ron snorted.
"That can be arranged," Seamus said.
"Or not," Draco replied.
"You!"
"Yes, Justin?"
"Where do you get off locking me in a closet that vanishes for days at a time?"
"Where do I get off? I don't think you want to know the answer to that question. Was that the vanishing closet? Dean!"
"What?"
"You told me that the closet two doors down was the vanishing one."
"My mistake."
"Your mistake! Did it ever occur to you that maybe I didn't want into Harry's pants?" Justin inquired.
"Why no! Are you saying that you don't want to fuck him?"
"I'm sorry but that was too much information for me!" Ron objected.
"Look, your best friend is the most shaggable guy in this school- with one or two exceptions," Seamus added, glancing at Draco. "Femmes and males alike want him. Deal with it. Do you want to sleep with him, Justin?"
"No. I mean, eventually, maybe but I just..."
"Aww! Justin's a romantic! He wants to get to know Potter first," Draco cooed, grinning.
"Basically."
"Why didn't you say so? That requires a whole other strategy."
"Seamus, I don't think this is working. Maybe we should give up," Justin sighed. Draco grabbed Justin's hands.
"Do you really like Po- Harry?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Do you want to go out with him?"
"I'm so tired-"
"Yes or no."
"Yes."
"Then you will. I won't let you give up." Draco said, squeezing Justin's hands. Justin smiled.
"Thank you."
"I'm dreaming. Draco Malfoy caring about someone other than himself? Pinch me. Ouch! I said pinch, not punch, Malfoy!"
"Really?" Draco said innocently. "I could've sworn you said punch, Weasley. My mistake."
"Arse."
"What? Punch you again? If you say so-"
"Ouch! You bastard! Ouch! Miserable git. Hey! You sodding- marvelous person, you," Ron ended rubbing his arm.
"That's what I thought you said, Weasley."
***
I'm sorry for the wait, but I've been so busy. Here's to wishing for free time. Thank you so much for bearing with me! Comments and criticism much appreciated!
Love always,
J. Silver