Salsa, Storage Closets, and Something Else

"You know what? This actually didn't turn out to be half bad."

Alicia Spinnet rolled her eyes. "Matt, are you smoking crack? We just spent two hours playing through last year's marching band halftime show as a gig. And those people that won the contest….. my God, I think we've all been corrupted. PDAs of that level shouldn't be allowed."

Matt Zimmerman tapped the residue out of his trumpet's mouthpiece. "So? We did pretty damn well. It certainly could have been worse. And everyone out there seemed like they were having a good enough time."

"Agreed," put in Jeff Kowalzek. "We didn't suck as badly as I'd thought before. We didn't get booed off the platform or anything."

"Jeff, are you conveniently forgetting your last-ditch decision to play Blink-182 covers after we ran out of original material?" Alicia inquired innocently. "That almost got us thrown out."

"Well, aren't you just a li'l ray of sunshine." Jon deCaro wandered over to where his three bandmates were sitting. "What time is it?"

Alicia checked her watch. "It's almost midnight. By the time we get home, it'll be one in the morning. Anyone want to come up with a decent excuse of just why I'll be waltzing in an hour past curfew for me to tell my parents?"

Matt snorted. "Not really." He moved to dodge the punch Alicia threw at him. "I've got to think of my own. I was supposed to be in an hour ago."

Zeke Tartropolis yawned. "My parents think I'm sitting in my room trying to unscramble the Playboy channel."

"Do you ever do anything else?" Andy Campanara asked. "Mine couldn't care less. I could have hitchhiked to Iowa and they wouldn't know until I sent them a postcard from Des Moines."

"Andy, you're full of shit," Alicia retorted. "There's no such place as Iowa."

Five of the other six members of Victims of the American Dream (T.J. Martinez was, as usual, hitting on various females) gawked at her.

"Not this again," Matt groaned.

"What?" Alicia asked smoothly. "You know as well as I do that the idea of Iowa was a plot concocted by the U.S. government to make the American flag more aesthetically pleasing. Forty-nine stars didn't look right, so they added another one and made up some cock-and-bull-story about the Hawkeye State. There's nothing between Illinois and Nebraska except corn and tornadoes."

"Alicia, do us all a favor and shut the hell up," Jeff remarked in annoyance. "You sound like Fox Mulder. Actually, you could do myself and Zimmerman a favor and help us put this stuff in the storage rooms—" he gestured to the electrical rigging and various objects strewn about the platform—"back there."

"Why me?" Alicia whined. "I'm the little one! The girl! The shortest! The youngest!"

"The strongest," Zeke countered, yawning. "Besides, who did all the setting up? Us. Who did all the yelling and ordering around? You."

"Look at my shoes," Alicia tried, gesturing to her six-inch slides. "I can barely walk in them, let alone carry stuff!"

"Bullshit," said Matt. "You're so well-adapted to wearing platforms that you could probably run better in them than you do in your sneakers."

"Shut up." Alicia sighed, and picked up a pile of extension cords. "Let's get this over with. I might still be able to swing the old ‘Jeff's truck broke down' excuse if I'm in at one."

"It's certainly believable," Matt commented, grabbing a large strobe light.

Jeff scowled as he started walking to the back of the club, a small rack of spotlights in hand. "And why is that?"

"Because your dad's truck looks like it's going to fall apart if too many people sit in it the wrong way," Alicia explained alongside him.

"Or if your fat brother tried to get in it," Matt joked, turning the door handle. "I can only imagine it." He pushed the door open, and walked in. "Him falling through the truck bed, landing on his—oh my God!"

"The last time I checked, the face of Christ wasn't imprinted on my brother's ass, Zimmerman," Jeff remarked dryly. "What's the matter?"

"Yeah, I'd like to get home soon," Alicia added. "What's your prob—hey, where do you think you're going?"

Two people had just ran out the door, nearly knocking Alicia and Jeff over. Alicia could faintly hear, "Oh, shit, that kid looks familiar….."

Both teenagers dutifully traipsed into the small closet and dropped their burdens. A very shocked-looking Matthew Zimmerman met them.

"Duuuuuude….." he said hollowly. "That was freaky."

"You sound like Andy and Zeke," Alicia snapped. "What is your problem?"

Matt shook his head in bewilderment. "Let's just say that I think I'm scarred for life."

Jeff rolled his eyes. "Kid, look at who you hang out with—five South-Park-wannabes and a prima donna perfectionist. I think that particular damage was done already."

"Don't forget the high-strung egomaniac," Alicia muttered. "I hope we never become famous. The pressure would drive you crazy, Jeff. Although after tonight's performance, I don't think we've got to worry about fame."

Matt's eyes slowly came back into focus. "Alicia, never say never."

*

All around her, there was black….. flashing lights….. bad ska music blared in the background….. something with the police….. and then Harry was asking her something…..

"Uh, Hermione?"

"Wh-what?" she asked faintly, her eyelids fluttering open. "H-Harry?"

"Yeah, it's me."

Hermione squinted, and pulled herself off of the ground. "What happened? Why was I flat on my back on the sidewalk?"

"W--we, um, we had a fight," Harry replied, his eyes looking everywhere but at her. "And then I asked you something, and you passed out. I'm taking that as a ‘no', then, seeing as you don't even remember it."

"What was the question?" Hermione pressed.

Harry shrugged. "Nothing all that important, really."

But his nonchalant answer did nothing to dissuade Hermione, who had just spied the small velvet box clutched in his right hand. "What's that?"

"Oh, this?" Harry asked nervously, quickly hiding the box from view. "Nothing."

She reached around him, and swiped the box from his hand. "Oh, planning to propose marriage to Draco, are we, Harry?"

"Actually," he replied acidly, "it was for you, but seeing as how you just broke up with me, it doesn't make much sense, now does it?"

"We broke up?" Hermione asked, slightly confused, handing the box back. "Nice of you to leave that out of your summary……"

"You mean, you don't remember dumping me?"

"Somehow, I think it slipped my mind." Actually, Hermione now recalled every bit of it in Technicolor detail, but she wasn't about to let Harry know that.

"Oh." He still couldn't look her in the eye.

"So let me get this straight," Hermione said slowly. "In the space of ten minutes, we've been dating, split up, dating, and engaged?"

Now, he looked up. "No. You never said yes."

Hermione sighed. "You're really adorable when you're dense, you know that? What did you think I was going to say, you git? No?"

"Well," Harry started, "you did just break up with me….."

"Auugh! I'm going to kill you! Now give me the damn ring!" Hermione had just about reached the end of her fuse.

"So wait a sec….." Harry murmured. "You want the ring….. but you broke up with me….."

"You are such an idiot," Hermione commented disgustedly, and kissed him with as much force as she could muster.

When they parted, the confused look remained on Harry's face, but was now mixed with astonishment.

"Hermione, mind telling me what in the bloody hell is going on here?"

"We're engaged, I love you, and we're going home, you great adorable nitwit," Hermione explained in exasperation. "Now give me the ring, so we can get going."

Harry had obviously given up trying to comprehend the situation, and wordlessly slipped the ring—a diamond surrounded by tiny emeralds—on her left hand. "There. Oh, wait, I want to at least attempt to do this right….. Hermione, will you marry me?"

"Yes," she replied without hesitation. "Now let's go home."

"But we don't know how."

"It's called Apparition, Harry, and as a fully trained wizard you should know that." Hermione, far from being relieved that the ring was finally hers, was now even more impatient than before.

"Hermione, as a fully trained witch, you should know that it's illegal to use magic in front of Muggles." Harry had regained some of his former composure, probably out of sheer relaxation that Hermione had accepted. "If that weren't the case, we'd have been home an hour and a half ago. It's all in the regulations….. and if anyone found us….."

Hermione had had enough. "Harry, I want you to listen very closely to what I'm about to say, as it will probably be the first and last time I'll ever say it. Fuck the regulations, I want to go home."

"Right, then," Harry said, in surprise. "Let's go, shall we?"

*

"Dammit! Why won't this stupid door open?"

Draco Malfoy was kicking and pounding on the door to their apartment, swearing up a storm.

"The key won't work….. I don't have my wand….."

"Allow me." Ginny Weasley rummaged through her purse, and pulled out her own wand. "Alohomora!" They stared at the door expectantly, but to no avail—it was still shut tight.

"Shit." Draco ruefully swung one foot at the handle in frustration. "You know what? I'll bet you twenty bucks that Potter and Granger are in there, and they've sealed the door shut with magic. I swear to God, when I get my hands on them—"

"You'll do what, Draco?"

Turning around, Draco and Ginny were shocked to see Harry and Hermione walking down the hall towards them, hand in hand.

"Pay up, Malfoy," Ginny whispered in his ear.

He grinned, shifting his hand into her back pocket. "Later."

"What's going on? Did you drop your keys down the toilet again, Malfoy?" Hermione asked sweetly.

Draco shot daggers in her direction. "No, and for the last time, that was an accident. It seems that someone has sealed the door off with magic, and we can't get in."

"But if it's not you, and it's not us….." Ginny trailed off. "Who the hell is it?"

As if on cue, someone inside the blocked-off apartment suddenly called, "Oh, Lavender….."

The four left outside the door stared at each other, open-mouthed.

Draco opened his mouth. "Uh, Ginny….."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "No wonder we haven't heard from them all night. Yeah, that's my brother, all right. And it sounds like they're back together. Again."

"Well, we knew it had to happen," Harry commented. "They never seem to stay apart for long."

But Hermione had already spotted a new topic of conversation.

"So," she said shrewdly, glancing quickly at the sudden lack of space between Draco and Ginny, "since when have you two been speaking in actual sentences to each other?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Well, seeing as we're not going to be getting in any time soon, we may as well tell you the whole, long, strange story….."

*

"So, Mom, Dad, what exactly was it that you were doing in the apartment that was so important that the door had to be sealed?" Bobby Weasley's face displayed a mischievous smirk.

"Making coffee," both Ron and Lavender answered simultaneously.

"That's it, huh?" Joey Malfoy said wonderingly. "You actually hated each other?" He looked at his parents.

"Like you and Judi Berdenberg," Ginny replied. "We couldn't even be in the same room with each other or else we'd kill the other."

Joey wrinkled his nose. "Well, God help me if I ever end up marrying Judi Berdenberg."

Bobby muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Not while Linda's around, you won't."

"What was that?" Linda Potter asked sharply.

Bobby smirked again. "Nothing, nothing….. so, Lin," he changed the subject, noting the murderous look on his best friend's face, "you're the one that wanted to know all of this. What's your take?"

"Honestly?" Linda looked around the circle, and stopped at her parents. "Mom, Dad, it sounds like something out of a bad movie."

"Thanks, Linda," Hermione replied sarcastically. "How reassuring."

"Linda, if you want proof, your mother has the engagement ring, and Ron and Lavender have the ribbon they won in that salsa contest that night," Harry pointed out.

"I'll take your word for it, Dad," Linda said.

There was a moment of silence, in which Joey's face lit up in a wicked grin. Turning to his parents, he asked:

"So, Dad, whatever happened to Schlott Geitzburg?"

*finis*