Broom Closet

"Where is my broom?" Harry asked to himself. He was ruffling through the broom closet, trying to find the missing Firebolt. He had wanted to fly today...

"Damnit!" he screamed in frustration. A slam was heard behind him and he turned around, scared. "What the hell..." he saw the door had shut and took a couple stride towards it, reached towards the handle and held his breath before giving it a turn. It was locked. "No..." he breathed. He locked in a broom closet...no wand...out on the school grounds. Who was going to find him?

"SOMEBODY HELP ME! GET ME OUT OF HERE!" he screamed, banging his fists against the heavy wood door, presumably oak or mahogany. He stepped back and examined his surroundings. There were about three dozen brooms and no windows. He went back to the door and started banging again. After about twenty minutes Harry gave up.

He slid against the wall, mentally seeing his funeral. He was sure to die of lack of oxygen. A noise snatched Harry back into reality. The door was being opened. He thought for sure it was going to be Hermione or Ron or...Voldemort even. But no, Malfoy had walked in and was about to shut the door.

"NO MALFOY DON'T-" Too late, the door had slammed shut. "Shut the door." Harry banged his head against the wall. "Damned git." he muttered.

Malfoy gave him an icy glare. "What the hell is wrong with you Potter?" he turned around and tried the handle. "What the hell! It won't open..."

Harry stood up and brushed himself off. This was one dusty broom closet. "Stating the obvious, once again. And for you information, I was looking for my broom. What's your excuse? For being an ugly git I mean."

Malfoy whirled around, facing Harry. He took a step closer and another, almost chest to chest now. "If I had my wand I swear I'd-" he threatened.

But Harry was not in a good mood either. "You'd what? Unlock the door? Face it Malfoy," he said, voice dripping with venom, one that was not usually associated with Harry. "We're stuck here until Ron and Hermione realize I'm missing and come find me. Which they will..."

Malfoy opened his mouth to say something but promptly closed it, hearing a strange new sound. There was tapping on the tin roof above them, almost like... rain. "Dammit. What now Potter? Will your friends come looking for you in this rain?"

Harry bit his lip. Would they, a part of him asked. The much stronger, confident one argued. Of course they would! But the smaller part won in the end. "I don't know..." he asked, feeling like he had betrayed Ron and Hermione.

Malfoy raised his eyebrow. "Really now?" Malfoy took a step back from Harry and turned to face the door, doing the same actions Harry had been doing, not half an hour ago, banging and screaming. Except louder.

Harry covered his ears with his hands, trying to shut Malfoy out...but it didn't work. "MALFOY! NO ONE CAN HEAR US!" he screamed. The banging faded and the screams died in Malfoy's throat.

"Excuse me if I am trying to get us out of here!"

Harry rolled his eyes, sighing in frustration. "You're such a git!" Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "We might be stuck in here for a long time...can we not fight for just once in our life?"

Malfoy eyed him with a sigh. "If we must." he took a seat and Harry sat down next to him, hesitating a bit. "Someone will find us? Right...of course they will..." he said, voice trembling. The air was starting to get thicker, making it hard to breathe.

He never got an answer from Harry so he turned to look at him. Harry was out cold. "Potter? Potter are you okay! Harry!" he said, shaking him. It was no use...he was definitely out. And it wasn't long before he was too.

"I don't want to die..." he said before the darkness enclosed him.