Disclaimer: Harry Potter and co. belongs to J.K. Rowling and co. Drat!
Warnings: May be…funny. Oh yeah. Is SLASH!
Author's Notes: To all the people that reviewed The Day Harry Potter Woke Up and Was In Love – YOU ROCK! This is for you guys. And my dear beta Incendio, who - by the way - should be credited for the title.
Behind Closed Doors There Are Open Windows
As nightfall approached the majestic castle of Hogwarts, inhabitants of a sinister dungeon were starting to stir. Amidst bottles of putrid potions and clumps of greasy black hair shed by a certain professor notorious for his cheerful disposition, snuffling noises indicated the waking of two teenagers after an afternoon of strenuous exercise.
For Draco Malfoy, important things always came first. Reflections from a cauldron indicated that his hair was, in fact, perfect as usual, and after several minutes of narcissistic preening, the brilliant mind of young Malfoy grudgingly moved onto other subjects.
First, there was the matter of a new arch-nemesis. Potter was obviously no longer sufficient as a suitable rival, due, in part, to his much too red lips and most excellent skills on the cold floor of the Potions classroom. Draco was the pinnacle of seriousness when it came to the art of being a malicious villain, and he reckoned that noticing such matters about one's greatest enemy could very well constitute as unprofessional.
Next on his list of rivals, was one Ronald Weasley, who, incidentally, had left a trail of vomit from the Potions Classroom all the way up to the Gryffindor Common Room. How one boy could manage to accommodate such an immense amount of stomach content, was a subject of great bewilderment to one Mr. Argus Filch.
Young Mr. Malfoy was currently deliberating the vast differences between being arch-nemeses with a redhead, and being of that to a person with black hair. Similarly, there is the question of freckles versus non-freckles to consider, though, quite interestingly - mused Draco - Potter had skin blemishes in the oddest places.
Draco was becoming rather frustrated, for his entire study of being an evil villain had been devoted to the art of antagonising the hero. Now, due to the inconsiderate nature of the aforementioned hero, all of his previous painstaking work needed to be abolished. New dissertations need to be written on how to be vile when your enemy is a redhead; new books must be consulted, new theorems to study, and different methods of sacrifice to be learnt!
Harry Potter, the boy who was shagged, watched bemusedly as the object of his affections seemed to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Hair was now being tousled, pearl white teeth were gnawing on marvellous pink lips, and devious worry lines were maliciously sneaking across a smooth expanse of forehead.
Harry, being rational, immediately came to the brilliant conclusion that his one greatest love was worried about being roasted over an open fire by the Big Evil Clan of the wizarding world: the Death Eaters. And truthfully, anyone in association with Harry Potter was probably listed in the human marshmallow section of Voldemort's list of acquaintances.
Suffering from the short attention span common in Boys Who Consistently Save the World, Harry was soon to be distracted from his diligent speculating by more important matters. It was to his great amusement that during this afternoon of mind blowing exercise, both partners had managed to keep one article of clothing intact – their socks.
Harry attempted to bring this to Draco's attention by hesitatingly nudging his calf, not wanting to interrupt a possibly ingenious strategizing session and be therefore attacked. Draco yelped as something fury touched his skin, and immediately thought of bunnies– an evil wizard's greatest fear.
As it turned out, the disturbance was far less severe. Sexually active young wizards were prone to be consumed by lust in the most inappropriate moments. This has gotten so regular, in fact, that no one considers walking the more practical road of the wild side. Conveniences such as dorm rooms, or even transfigured mattresses, were often overlooked in the favour of a cold stone floor; and feet were frequently ignored in the pursuit of skin on skin. Trousers were flung about the room, boxers peeled off in record speed, but socks – socks were always forgotten.
The two discovered, with absolute amazement, that their socks were of matching calibre. Both were standard wizarding socks - one size fits all - in white. Unfortunately, this astonishing discovery was interrupted by the calamitous entry of a wise and dignified headmaster. Dumbledore did always have disastrous timing.
The moment had an initial impulse of being frozen in shock. This quickly passed. As the moment was busy nursing its frostbites, it was soon hit in the head with robes, haphazardly flung about with the purpose of concealing skin. To be fair, more scrambling was done on Harry's part than Draco's, but nevertheless, Dumbledore was old, and humans were entirely different from wine – older did not mean richer, it frequently meant bordering on senile.
Expanses of exposed skin still blushing a furious red, Harry politely inquired after the nature of Dumbledore's visit. With a twinkle in his eyes, the all-knowing headmaster remarked on how the dank atmosphere seemed to induce certain types of activities. Experiences in which students are often seeking wisdom and guidance.
Harry and Draco looked at each other in abstract horror. It seemed to repulse them that their headmaster was somewhat of a peeping Tom. Following this realisation was more frantic burrowing into thin black robes.
It was then that Dumbledore noticed something very peculiar about this couple. Eccentricities of said relationship were then analysed, and each was discounted as peculiar in an environment like Hogwarts. Merlin knows Dumbledore has seen his share of same-sex relationships, and it was not that odd for arch-nemeses - even ones belonging to rival houses - to go at it. Even their complementary hair colour and skin tones were not much out of the ordinary.
Indeed, it was because of the fact that they were the first couple to grace Hogwarts with matching socks. An ingenious plan was therefore devised by Dumbledore; to entrap the two in a paradise of their own, as an exhibit for the rest of Hogwarts on proper coupling etiquette when it came to the matter of socks.
Sharing of this brilliant arrangement with the two students resulted in confirmation of the idea that wisdom often interferes with rationality. An explanation of, Ah! What is the phrase that you younger generation tend to use? Sock whore! I suppose I'm a bit of a sock whore, accompanied with a radiating beam, further established the students in their plausible belief.
Harry, being the self conscious boy hero that he was, voiced his concern about not wanting to be trapped in a zoo. A cheerful reassurance came in the objection that exhibits were very much dissimilar from zoos. Still not completely sold on the idea, Harry scrunched his face up, gave an involuntary shudder, and looked adoringly to his partner.
Draco was currently contemplating the situation – with reason. As long as there was food, good lighting and mirrors, he supposed he could be content with being the object of much gawking. It sure beats classes, and besides, the residents of Hogwarts have always had that creepy staring problem anyhow. It was as good a way as any to inform the wizarding world of this budding relationship.
Draco hadn't been looking forward to the weekly family dinner on Sunday night. Voldemort was always there - in fact - he was like a favourite uncle to Draco. He was now going to be disappointed. A man never enjoys killing his adored nephew's boyfriend. After all, the Death Eaters weren't some kind of Mafia.
As Dumbledore left the two to their own devices, the boys thought it was wise to arrange themselves in a displayable state of dress. Harry, being the modest boy he was, quickly pulled on his clothes and fastened his robe. One peek at Draco caused him to adorably blush.
Devastatingly sexy Draco decided that putting clothes on would just interfere with the public's viewing pleasures. He lazily rearranged his robe to cover what was deemed appropriate by an R-rating. Draco rather thought his body was like a piece of artwork, extra materiel would just ruin the whole effect. No one had ever told Michelangelo to carve marble clothes for David.
Over the next few days, renovations began. Despite the fact that Hogwarts was a castle with magic in its veins, construction workers were called upon to tear down the classroom walls and put glass panes in. After the millionth house elf had employed the sharp shards in acts of self-mutation, all parties concerned decided that plexi-glass was the best course of action.
It was noticed that Professor Snape often came around the construction site and was notoriously among the young man for being a tad touchy. An accidentally grope here, a friendly slap on the backside there, and Snape would leave with the biggest grin seen in all of his years of teaching.
Finally, the exhibit was ready for viewing. Throughout the course of the next several days, the students delighted in going on teacher-supervised visits, calling them field trips. Several first and second years were seen leaving the exhibition crying for their parents, due to young Malfoy's charming tactics when dealing with children.
A group protesting the current situation also formed within the school. Half were bearing crosses and disgusted at abundance of sin within Hogwarts. They were especially disgruntled at the entertainment that the inhabitants of the exhibition would provide, hourly, at the encouragement of the headmaster. The other half of the discontent group protested for the Ethical Treatment of Students. People shouldn't be kept in zoos, was their motto.
As for the visiting habits of the student body, behaviours varied. Ravenclaws would come around with several notepads in tow, and stayed to observe the enclosed students on twenty-four hour shifts. It seemed to fascinate them. Coincidentally, the numbers of Ravenclaw couples with matching socks were also on the rise.
The Hufflepuffs came with eggs and tomatoes in hand, ready to avenge the hysterically crying Justin Finch-Fletchley. This lead to the unfortunate comment of Harry, honey, the Hufflepuffs are egging our habitat! A few Hufflepuffs also knocked their fists and banged their head against the glass, signalling their disapproval at this relationship – leaving Harry and Draco to ponder the similarities between house elves and Hufflepuffs.
The Gryffindors came to offer their condolences to their Golden Boy, but most left with a rather twitchy left eye after Harry had provided visual aids for his claims of being anything but uncomfortable.
As a side result, their habitat had experienced momentary flooding courtesy of Seamus's never ending river of drool. Due to several days of remaining fixed in position, the Irish boy was now plastered against the barrier, tongue out, eyes wide open, and doing inappropriate things to the glass.
Hermione had come to share the news that Ron was now in the infirmary for severe sleep deprivation. She seemed rather disgusted at the situation, mostly at the fact that the two had been exempt from all schoolwork.
Since the exhibit was in the dungeon, all Slytherins had to pass it on their way to lessons and other Slytherin-y activities. Most averted their eyes in disgust, though some jeered and mocked, and Blaise Zabini was a prime example of a Slytherin male who let his eyes wander over Draco's sizeable attributes for perhaps much too long.
The truly frightening moment came in the dead of the night, when Professor Flitwick managed to sneak into the exhibit. Just as he descended upon the boys, about to…
"Draco, Draco, wake up!" Harry was frantically shaking his one true love, attempting to arouse him from a seemingly frightful slumber.
"Nooo…not my…" Draco propped an eyelid open, and groggily looked into the face of Harry Potter. Feeling the cold stone floor underneath his body, and looking around at solid stone walls, he had never been so relieved in his life.
"Nightmare? You screamed. Like a girl." Harry couldn't resist getting his jibe in, being the epitome of an insensitive prat.
"Yes, definitely. A nightmare."
*I'd beg for reviews