Open and Notorious

The quidditch match lasted two long hours, ending with a brilliant catch on Harry Potter’s part. Dean wandered to the showers, exhausted and dispirited. Seamus had spent the whole time staring at Justin, watching Justin’s plays, cheering for Justin. In the shower, Dean kept getting the urge to slam large heavy objects into his head. He was holding himself back (the bludger he took near the end was more than enough).

In a daze, Dean drifted across the grounds and into the third floor with out really noticing what he was doing. He wasn’t exactly paying attention, but no one was there to run into. They were all in their respective common rooms by now. Dean must have spent a long tome in the showers… wait… he wasn’t alone in the hallway after all. A dizzy looking Justin Finch-Fletchy was ducking into an empty classroom. Dean would have wondered why he was so far away from his dorm. In fact, he didn’t even look like he had made it to the showers at all. He was still wearing his bright yellow quidditch robes… Dean blinked inordinately. What was Justin doing here?

He followed the uncoordinated Hufflepuff into the deserted classroom. The other boy was hunched over a wastebasket, retching. Dean glanced around, uncertain of what to do.

"Hey," someone said, "what are you doing here?" Justin sounded more confused than angry. Dean started, then replied shakily.

"I heard you being sick and I came to see if you were ok." So it was a lie. So what?

"Oh…well, then."

"What’re you doing over on this side of the castle?"

"I got lost. Look Dean… about Seamus." Dean’s ears pricked up. "I know it’s unfair to you… it’s really unfair… tu yew…" Justin’s words were becoming slurred. Dean wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but it didn’t seem right to just leave him there. "Naught… fur tew " the inane gibberish was often punctuated by coughing fits and little hiccups. Dean had never noticed how handsome the other guy was.

"It’s OK, Justin. Are you all right?" Dean thought his concern sounded forced, but Justin didn’t seem to notice.

"Nat… fur… wha-… awe, no, I’m fine… just a little smushied, is all…"

"You mean smashed?"

"Potato, potato,"

Dean was sure Justin was drunk out of his mind, but why would he be? Hufflepuff hadn’t won…

"Huh? … Yeah… I tuld Sheamuses that I’m no gud at drunken contests…"

"Oh… do you mean drinking contests? Yeah he drinks a lot… he’s used to it…" His anger for Justin was fading, seeing him in this helpless position.

"Yeah… I comletley missed that last shot, I’m a lousy quadidich player, I should be kicked off the team-" Justin started throwing up again and Dean took another step into the room, closing the door behind him. He wasn’t exactly sure when the conversation had taken that sudden turn, but he wasn’t going to say anything. Justin lifted his head up onto a desk and closed his eyes. "Gad night, Dean..."

Uh-oh. Dean for a moment realised that Justin had a concussion. No matter how he half-wished it, he couldn’t just let him die. "OK, there Justin. Now wake up." He waved his arms weakly, as though he just expected the concussion to magically vanish. Wait he thought… magic… oh, I’m a fucking dumb ass… He took out his wand, pointed at Justin’s closed eyes and muttered "Plures crapula quam gladius." He’d worked the complex little charm on Seamus a number of times, and it could practically wake the dead, if the dead in question happened to have been smashed out of his gourd.

"Oh… hey…" Justin was much better now, but would be a little drunk until it naturally wore off. At least his speech was semi-understandable now.

"Hey. Feeling better?"

"Yeah… my goddamn head…"

"Ah, sorry… instant hangover. Serves you right, though. Getting into a drinking contest with Seamus…"

"Oh. Yeah… how the hell did I get here? The last thing I remember was pouring a shot glass full of whiskey…" He coughed violently. Dammit, Dean couldn’t be mad at him. He hadn’t done anything. And he was so cute, even with the hacking coughs erupting into his sentence every other minute.

"I don’t know… you said you got lost. Do you remember talking to me?"

"Um… I think so," he replied, rubbing his forehead. "Maybe."

"Well, then…" There was an awkward pause. Dean sat down opposite Justin. He didn’t feel so angry with him now. In fact, he wasn’t angry at all. He leaned close to the other boy.

"Justin?"

"Hmm?"

"You going to be OK?"

"I think so…" he hiccoughed slightly, and sat up. "Can you help me walk?"

"Sure." He didn’t mean to steal his best friend, after all. Dean really should be angry with Seamus.

"Thanks. Hufflepuff’s dorms are down that way…" He waved his arm vaguely, but Dean knew the basic direction. He had a good sense in that way. He led Justin out of the deserted room. "We’ll have to keep on the look for Filch, though. Imagine if he catches u out at this hour."

"Yeah, he’d string us up by our thumbs in a dungeon for the next year…" Justin chuckled. The idea seemed adventurous in a way. Dean and Justin crept down to the Entrance Hall, keeping an eye out for anything that might hinder their quest. Justin whispered his thanks once they were in the Hall, and crept eerily away, the buckles on hi robes glittering in the moonlight.