Drabblefic #6: MWPP, "Interior Designs"
Title: Interior Designs
Genre: Humour
Rating & Warnings: PG-13 for mild swearing.
Word Count: 998
Author's Note: For merryb87, who wanted MWPP and a prank gone badly wrong. I wrote this while on a lot of painkillers, which possibly explains a few things...
Interior Designs
Even the most silent of feet and the lightest of breaths seemed far too loud. Tiptoeing through the familiar office had been bad enough, but his brain had stopped working the minute James had opened the door in the farthest corner which he’d only ever glimpsed before.
He couldn’t believe they were doing this. They couldn’t actually be stood inside the inner sanctum that was-
“Right, boys.” Sirius was low-voiced, but they all still jumped. “Let’s be professional here.”
“Professional?” Remus asked, somewhat incredulously.
“Yeah, you know. Don’t touch anything in case it bites. I’ve told you often enough about my home and what that's like.” Sirius whispered “Lumos” and the tip of his wand dimly illuminated three ghostly faces, drained of all colour at the prospect of what they were about to do and what had already been done.
Remus bet his own face was easily whiter than any of theirs.
Oh, God, was that the sound of someone coming or his imagination making sounds?
The dull light revealed the shadowy outline of a large cupboard, a chest-of-drawers and various cabinets alongside, and - oh, bloody, buggering shit - the draped curtains and unmistakable shape of a massive four poster bed.
“Interesting, huh?” Sirius moved towards the chest-of-drawers with an accompanying wave at the bed that suggested he was showing it off to prospective buyers.
“How big is it, do you think?” Peter asked, round eyes staring in the gloom.
What the-?
“Looks very old.” James frowned. “We were surprised last night, weren’t we Padfoot?”
“Yeah, that bedspread’s massive. The red and gold colours are great though, proper Gryffindor. Wish we had them on-”
“Much as I hate to interrupt the Interior Design Class of ’75,” Remus hissed through teeth clenched hard. “Is there any possible chance we could just do what we came for and get the hell out of here?”
There was a moment’s almost hurt pause. “It was your dare,” James said.
“No. My dare was to remove a personal item. Easily done, at any time, during the day. Something like a quill or a handkerchief, which you could then innocently hand back.”
And of all the professors they could have choosen… What was wrong with Binns, who wouldn’t notice if you took the whole room?
“You should have been clearer,” Sirius said, grinning. “And you didn’t have to come back with us.”
“They were very drunk at the time,” Peter chipped in.
“We are handing them back,” James said reasonably. “It’s just difficult to say, ‘Oh, Professor, look what you’ve dropped here?’ with a pair of-” His voice tailed off as he pulled the object out of his pocket. Remus averted his eyes but couldn’t do anything about his ears, which heard Sirius say once more, admiringly, “Tartan undies, eh? Didn’t see that one coming, though perhaps I should have when I think about it.”
I don’t WANT to think about it. Why would you?
“Do you think it’s all tartan, Remus?” Peter sounded as if he was in the middle of a Runes class and faced with a real brain-teaser.
“Oddly enough, I don’t care. I’m too busy being professional about stealing a professor’s underwear from their bedroom, and now trying to put it back in the same place and condition it left it in.” Remus moved towards the bedside cabinet in order to distance himself from the madness, and the not entirely reassuring image of Sirius and James looking uncertainly at the many drawers in front of them. He absently noted the titles of the two books on the cabinet. A Compendium of the Biographical Literature on Deceased Animagi was the large volume, but Benedict’s Witch looked as if it had been reread many times.
“Third on the right, wasn’t it?” he heard James ask.
“I think so…”
If you don’t hurry up, my heart is going to expire from terror…
He couldn’t look at the framed photographs as that would be an unforgivable invasion, but he picked up Benedict’s Witch to distract himself and read the back cover: ‘Hit Wizard Jason Benedict would not give in to the threats that he hand over beautiful blonde witch, Adriana Vine, brave and reluctant keeper of a deadly secret, whom he’d sworn to protect with every fibre of his being. He would defend her to the last, even if the price was his life - or his heart.’
Bloody hell. And he thought he had problems. Wonder how that ends…
“Moony’s not happy.”
“Probably worried about being the first ever Hogwarts prefect caught breaking and entering.”
“Or his own dare. Didn’t seem too thrilled at the prospect of singing Pinball Wizard on a table in the Hog’s Head.”
“Not one of his favourite tracks, is it?”
“It’s hard to sing along to Mozart… Got it! It’s this one!”
“Let’s get out of here then!”
“Footsteps!” Peter, sounding terrified.
Remus tore his eyes away from the last page of Benedict’s Witch, dropped the book from suddenly nerveless hands and spun round.
We are so screwed. The Marauders, felled by a pair of knickers…
For a moment they all stared at each other, and then there was the maddest of panic-stricken, silent scrambles, complete with frenzied whispers and frantic gestures as James and Sirius took control.
“The bathroom?"
"The cupboard?"
“Behind the curtains, Moony!”
“Under the bed?”
“No room, you cretin!” Sirius shoved Peter roughly behind the door as James and Remus watched with horrified eyes from their positions behind the long, heavy curtains at the window. Sirius just had time to leap across the room and close the cupboard door behind him as the doorknob slowly turned.
The door creaked open.
The footsteps advanced in a little way and then stopped.
Remus wished he’d had chance for a final farewell to his parents. They didn’t deserve any of this. He wasn’t sure he did. He wished many things; that he hadn’t taken the word werewolf to new levels of disgrace, that he wasn’t dying a virgin, that he’d killed James and Sirius before it had come to this, that it had come to this…
His worst nightmare was if the person whose room this was decided to run a bath and start stripping off. Though that might give them a glimmer of a chance at an escape route…
Of course, the creaking sound of a cupboard door being slowly opened was his second worst nightmare.
There was a pause while five people seemingly held their breath at one and the same time.
“Why, Mr Black,” said Dumbledore, sounding rather pleasantly surprised. “Is it perhaps time to come out of the closet?”
Genre: Humour
Rating & Warnings: PG-13 for mild swearing.
Word Count: 998
Author's Note: For merryb87, who wanted MWPP and a prank gone badly wrong. I wrote this while on a lot of painkillers, which possibly explains a few things...
Interior Designs
Even the most silent of feet and the lightest of breaths seemed far too loud. Tiptoeing through the familiar office had been bad enough, but his brain had stopped working the minute James had opened the door in the farthest corner which he’d only ever glimpsed before.
He couldn’t believe they were doing this. They couldn’t actually be stood inside the inner sanctum that was-
“Right, boys.” Sirius was low-voiced, but they all still jumped. “Let’s be professional here.”
“Professional?” Remus asked, somewhat incredulously.
“Yeah, you know. Don’t touch anything in case it bites. I’ve told you often enough about my home and what that's like.” Sirius whispered “Lumos” and the tip of his wand dimly illuminated three ghostly faces, drained of all colour at the prospect of what they were about to do and what had already been done.
Remus bet his own face was easily whiter than any of theirs.
Oh, God, was that the sound of someone coming or his imagination making sounds?
The dull light revealed the shadowy outline of a large cupboard, a chest-of-drawers and various cabinets alongside, and - oh, bloody, buggering shit - the draped curtains and unmistakable shape of a massive four poster bed.
“Interesting, huh?” Sirius moved towards the chest-of-drawers with an accompanying wave at the bed that suggested he was showing it off to prospective buyers.
“How big is it, do you think?” Peter asked, round eyes staring in the gloom.
What the-?
“Looks very old.” James frowned. “We were surprised last night, weren’t we Padfoot?”
“Yeah, that bedspread’s massive. The red and gold colours are great though, proper Gryffindor. Wish we had them on-”
“Much as I hate to interrupt the Interior Design Class of ’75,” Remus hissed through teeth clenched hard. “Is there any possible chance we could just do what we came for and get the hell out of here?”
There was a moment’s almost hurt pause. “It was your dare,” James said.
“No. My dare was to remove a personal item. Easily done, at any time, during the day. Something like a quill or a handkerchief, which you could then innocently hand back.”
And of all the professors they could have choosen… What was wrong with Binns, who wouldn’t notice if you took the whole room?
“You should have been clearer,” Sirius said, grinning. “And you didn’t have to come back with us.”
“They were very drunk at the time,” Peter chipped in.
“We are handing them back,” James said reasonably. “It’s just difficult to say, ‘Oh, Professor, look what you’ve dropped here?’ with a pair of-” His voice tailed off as he pulled the object out of his pocket. Remus averted his eyes but couldn’t do anything about his ears, which heard Sirius say once more, admiringly, “Tartan undies, eh? Didn’t see that one coming, though perhaps I should have when I think about it.”
I don’t WANT to think about it. Why would you?
“Do you think it’s all tartan, Remus?” Peter sounded as if he was in the middle of a Runes class and faced with a real brain-teaser.
“Oddly enough, I don’t care. I’m too busy being professional about stealing a professor’s underwear from their bedroom, and now trying to put it back in the same place and condition it left it in.” Remus moved towards the bedside cabinet in order to distance himself from the madness, and the not entirely reassuring image of Sirius and James looking uncertainly at the many drawers in front of them. He absently noted the titles of the two books on the cabinet. A Compendium of the Biographical Literature on Deceased Animagi was the large volume, but Benedict’s Witch looked as if it had been reread many times.
“Third on the right, wasn’t it?” he heard James ask.
“I think so…”
If you don’t hurry up, my heart is going to expire from terror…
He couldn’t look at the framed photographs as that would be an unforgivable invasion, but he picked up Benedict’s Witch to distract himself and read the back cover: ‘Hit Wizard Jason Benedict would not give in to the threats that he hand over beautiful blonde witch, Adriana Vine, brave and reluctant keeper of a deadly secret, whom he’d sworn to protect with every fibre of his being. He would defend her to the last, even if the price was his life - or his heart.’
Bloody hell. And he thought he had problems. Wonder how that ends…
“Moony’s not happy.”
“Probably worried about being the first ever Hogwarts prefect caught breaking and entering.”
“Or his own dare. Didn’t seem too thrilled at the prospect of singing Pinball Wizard on a table in the Hog’s Head.”
“Not one of his favourite tracks, is it?”
“It’s hard to sing along to Mozart… Got it! It’s this one!”
“Let’s get out of here then!”
“Footsteps!” Peter, sounding terrified.
Remus tore his eyes away from the last page of Benedict’s Witch, dropped the book from suddenly nerveless hands and spun round.
We are so screwed. The Marauders, felled by a pair of knickers…
For a moment they all stared at each other, and then there was the maddest of panic-stricken, silent scrambles, complete with frenzied whispers and frantic gestures as James and Sirius took control.
“The bathroom?"
"The cupboard?"
“Behind the curtains, Moony!”
“Under the bed?”
“No room, you cretin!” Sirius shoved Peter roughly behind the door as James and Remus watched with horrified eyes from their positions behind the long, heavy curtains at the window. Sirius just had time to leap across the room and close the cupboard door behind him as the doorknob slowly turned.
The door creaked open.
The footsteps advanced in a little way and then stopped.
Remus wished he’d had chance for a final farewell to his parents. They didn’t deserve any of this. He wasn’t sure he did. He wished many things; that he hadn’t taken the word werewolf to new levels of disgrace, that he wasn’t dying a virgin, that he’d killed James and Sirius before it had come to this, that it had come to this…
His worst nightmare was if the person whose room this was decided to run a bath and start stripping off. Though that might give them a glimmer of a chance at an escape route…
Of course, the creaking sound of a cupboard door being slowly opened was his second worst nightmare.
There was a pause while five people seemingly held their breath at one and the same time.
“Why, Mr Black,” said Dumbledore, sounding rather pleasantly surprised. “Is it perhaps time to come out of the closet?”