Chapter Text
“…And you’re just giving me this?” Harry asked suspiciously as he looked at the magical parchment in Fred’s hand. “For free?”
“Well, not for free, of course,” George started.
“Nothing in life is free, Harry,” Fred added.
“Then what do you want?” Harry asked.
“Well, you see Harry,” Fred placed an arm around Harry’s shoulders, “George and I are in a bit of a predicament.”
“And as you can see, your assistance would be greatly rewarded,” said George.
“If this is something that’ll get me into trouble, you can forget about it,” Harry replied.
“Nothing like that,” Fred assured. “We were just thinking-“
“-you’ve got a lot of free time, right?”
“Since you can’t go to Hogsmeade-“
“-and don’t have any big exams to revise for…?”
“Right…?” Harry answered, wanting them to get to the point already.
“So we were wondering-“
“If you had any interest in theatre?”
“Oh no,” Harry said, shaking himself free from Fred’s arm and backing away. “Absolutely not.”
“It’s just a bit of fun, Harry,” George argued. “You’ll love it.”
“And even if you didn’t, what’s one month of suffering-“
“-compared to a lifetime of convenience?”
“I’d hardly call five years a lifetime,” said Harry. “And I doubt it’s going to be that helpful.”
“Think about it,” said Fred. “Imagine the next time you and your friends are running around trying to stop some secret plot-“
“-They’re far more common than you might think,” George added.
“How much easier would that be if you could guarantee you won’t run into a teacher?”
“Or better yet, imagine you’re having a really shitty day. Wouldn’t it be great if you could find a way back to bed without getting harassed by friend or foe?”
Harry immediately saw the appeal. The question was whether or not the cost was worth the prize. Harry was already getting picked on enough this year as it was. He wasn’t sure if his self-esteem could take another blow.
But then there was that part of Harry: the part of him that wasn’t a legend. The part of him that wasn’t saving the world from evil wizards or keeping his head down at home. The thirteen-year-old boy that missed out on school plays and after-school clubs and hanging out with friends on weekends for most of his childhood. The part of him that hates sitting down with Ron and Hermione only for the conversation to be whatever plot the three of them are in the middle of uncovering.
Harry wanted his pride, but what he really needed was some fun. And at the end of the day, the play sounded like a laugh.
Besides, maybe it was just a small part…
“What is this?” Draco sang.
“What is this?” Harry sang.
“Smells like piss.”
“Smells like-“
“Tch. Eyes up, Potter!” Malfoy hissed. “How am I supposed to take this seriously if you’re always staring at your script.”
“Will you knock it off already!” Harry hissed back. “It’s not my fault I got the script yesterday!”
Mabes was tearing her hair out. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Harry was supposed to be their salvation, but at this rate they’ll be lucky to get a single scene done without the two bickering, let alone the whole damn play!
“Look on the bright side, Mabes,” said George on her right as he practiced applying his makeup. “Other than Lavender, this is the longest any of our other Mrs Lovetts have lasted against Malfoy.”
“And with the contract we got Malfoy to sign,” said Fred on her left as he sewed some buttons to his costume, “we know he can’t do anything to get out of it either.”
“I get all that,” she sighed. “I just need to find someway to stop them arguing every other line.” Mabes watched as the argument between the two escalated. “The passion is there; it just needs direction.”
“Why not use some of that muggle lore you like so much,” Fred suggested.
“Muggle what?”
“You know,” said George, “All those weird jargons you throw around all the time that seem to solve everything-“
“-Pop culture,” Fred listed.
“-tropes,” George added.
“-fandoms,”
“-yaoi,”
“-It’s all gibberish to us, but whatever works right?”
“…tropes… fandoms… by God, I’ve got it!” Clarity ran through Mabes as she grabbed pen and paper, frantically writing down a list of instructions. “Lala!”
“Aye, aye, Mabes!” Lavender called, appearing from behind Mabes’ chair and causing Fred and George to jump out of their skins.
“Merlin’s-“
“-Ballsack!”
Mabes handed the note over to Lavender.
“I need you to get as many of these tropes prepped as quickly as you can. We’ve got a time limit here, so we’re working on quantity over quality. Anything you can think to add, feel free to throw it in there.”
“What’s the goal? I need some key terms here, Mabes.”
“Anything on the lines of redemption arcs, enemies to friends, united under a common goal… you get the gist.”
Lavender gave a quick salute before rushing off to gather whatever cursed items were on the list.
Over the next few days, Mabes spent much of her directing time praying to whatever deities were out there for a miracle. Tensions were volatile. And between preventing her actors from murdering each other, and making sure everything else was running smoothly, Mabes was beginning to believe all her efforts will be for naught.
But by the end of the week…
“Have Charity towards the world, my pet~” Malfoy sang.
“Yes, yes, I know, my love~” Harry sang. The two holding each other close as they span around the room.
“We’ll take the customers that we can get~” Malfoy sang.
“Highborn and low, my love~” Harry sang. The two wavering off towards the end. Eyes interlocked. Pupils dilated. Pulses raised. Lips growing closer-
“SAVE ROOM FOR JESUS!” Mabes shrieked as she sprayed the two with her hose.
“Goddammit, Pines!” Malfoy yelled, wiping the water out of his face. “It’s called acting! We’re just doing the scene!”
“Nuh-uh,” said Mabes. “You two have been acting all weird since I locked you up in that room together-“
“That was you?!” Harry gaped.
“Never you mind! Point is, I don’t like whatever this is. What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on, Pines,” Draco sighed. “You’re imagining things.”
“You tell that to my hose…” Mabes grumbled before sitting back in her director’s chair. “Move on to the next scene!”
Mabes rubbed her face as the two began the next scene. She knew there was always a risk that enemies to friends could go a step further to lovers, but she thought she had months before it got to that point. That the play would be long over and done with and the two of them could work out their feelings without any risk to the performance. But at the rate they’re going…
“Mabes,” Lavender interrupted. “I’ve got a flock of owls at the castle entrance with several barrels of fake blood. Where do you want it? And can I borrow some lackeys to help move it?”
“Let me answer your question with another question: is it possible for a sex scandal to happen in a month or less?”
“Mabes, we’re thirteen.”
“You’re right… I didn’t take teenage hormones into account.”
“Mabes, no…”
The day everyone left for Christmas break, Bill was sat eating breakfast, as he does, when Malfoy came over and sat opposite him. He looked dressed and ready to get to the train but made no move to grab a last-minute breakfast. Instead, he grabbed Bill’s goblet of definitely-not-water, took a quick swig, and followed it up with a deep breath.
“Before you hear anything while I’m away, I want it known,” Malfoy began, having great difficulty choosing his words, “that it wasn’t my idea. It was a complete overreaction on my father’s part, and I did everything in my power to talk him out of it. I only mentioned it to him in passing, and I honestly thought he’d be more focused on the theatre portion of the letter.”
“What you talking ‘bout, Draco?” Bill asked through a mouthful of pancake.
“Just saying my piece. Anyway, have a good Christmas. Bye!”
And like the wind, he was gone.
Bill thought that was weird. And that’s saying something. But never mind all that- Bill had a predicament on his hands. His Shawshank tunnel hit a snag last night when he accidentally dug into the lake. The tunnel was now flooded, and Bill needed a way to clear it and soon if he wanted it finished before the end of the year.
Not to mention the hole was letting in all manner of lake monsters into the dorms. Which- y’know- is normally fine. But even Bill was getting tired of having to wrangle yet another tentacle-something-or-other out the window before any of his roommates woke up. He was lucky enough that they all chose to turn the other way with all the wall-chiselling he was doing at night. He wasn’t sure he could get away with a monster infestation.
Maybe if I drain the lake long enough to patch the hole…
Someone else suddenly sat in the seat opposite him. Bill looked up and grinned to see Pinetree grabbing a refilled goblet of definitely-not-water and taking a swig.
“I’ve got you for secret Santa,” Pinetree began.
“I don’t think you know how this game works-“
“-And I’m broke,” Pinetree added.
“Okay.”
“But I got these free tickets from Mabel, and I’ve got literally nothing else so what I’m basically saying is do you want to go watch this musical with me?”
Bill sucked in a breath ready to squeal excitedly.
“As friends!” Pinetree clarified. “This is your secret Santa present. That’s it. Nothing else. Just that.”
“Oh my gosh! Yes! Absolutely! I’ll clear my schedule right away!”
Dipper sighed when he realised Bill hadn’t listened to a word he said, but the two soon fell into easy conversation, and Bill quickly forgot about the flooded tunnel in his room…