Justin Finch-Fletchley and the Normal Teenage Problem

Chapter One \

Justin Finch-Fletchley was running out of days and options. Or so he wished. He was actually only running out of days, as he didn't touch any of his options yet. At least if he had no options he would have a justifiable reason to feel panicked.

The list scrawled at the back of an old History of Magic test read:

Girls to ask out to the Halloween dance

There was a checkbox before each number and none of them were checked.

It was lunchtime and the Hufflepuff common room was conveniently empty for anyone who wanted some privacy, which a certain Hufflepuff did. Justin stretched out on the couch, clutching a dog-eared paper to his chest, and lost in thought.

What was the new girl's name again? Justin was usually very good with names, and he didn't understand when people couldn't remember where the L's and E's go in his last name. The girl had such a complicated name, though. Elianora... Aurorialynne... Nynavinariavynne... something. He resigned himself to calling her "Excuse me, miss" when asking to pass the boomslang skin.

Justin supposed the girl was pretty enough, even if the big purple eyes were kind of creepy. But truth be told, she intimidated him. Not on purpose, though; Justin didn't think she would do something like that. The girl even said on her first day of class that her biggest personality flaws were having too much love to give and stubborn loyalty towards loved ones. That was why she was in Slytherin. However, her constant references to Muggle pop culture left him twitching, as did the spats with Draco Malfoy through which she displayed her wit, which she apparently learnt from bumper stickers and novelty key chains.

Justin reached over to the table, picked up his quill, and dipped it into the inkwell he brought. He thus proceeded to draw a thick black line across Number Four. After a moment of reflection, he crossed out Number Two as well. Susan was too much of a good friend anyway, and he only put her on the list so he had options from all four houses. Justin looked at the last two names in mild triumph.

Justin Finch-Fletchley was running out of days and options. He felt justifiably panicked.

-

"Where were you during lunch?" Susan Bones whispered in Muggle Studies.

Justin looked up from the chapter he was reading about the pros and cons of airplanes compared to broomsticks. "Sorry, what?"

"Lunch," his seatmate repeated. "You weren't there. They had lemon pudding."

Justin shrugged. "I can live without lemon pudding."

"What were you doing?"

"Nothing much. I was just in the common room. Wasn't hungry."

"Oh, alright," said Susan in the manner of those who thought they had something more exciting to say. "Guess what?"

"What?"

"Terry Boot asked me to go with him to the Halloween dance!" she whispered with an excited grin on her face.

Justin inwardly sighed with relief. It was a good decision crossing her out after all. "That's wonde-"

"Bones? Justin?" Professor Falkirk sharply interrupted. "Are you finished with your assignment? Your relaxed chatter tells me you are."

"Sorry, Professor," they chorused automatically, and turned back to their textbooks.

Just as Justin reached the paragraph that explained the oxymoron 'in-flight meals', a crumpled slip of violently pink paper dropped onto his book. He recognised it as part of the Post Its packet Ernie Macmillan had given Susan as a parting gift when they broke up last year. Justin raised an eyebrow at Susan but she was already pretending to be engrossed in her work.

The note read, 'Have you asked someone to go with you yet? -S.' Blushing, Justin crumpled the note again and kept it clutched in his fist. He determinedly turned back to his reading.

"Although in-flight meals vary from flight to flight, they all share certain similarities, such as the drinks in plastic cups with the Peel Back lid that you can't open without spilling its contents all over yourself. Other ubiquitous foods include cold, tasteless margarine and the crumbly bread you cannot spread it on."

Another crumpled Post It dropped onto his book.

'Why did you do that?' the note demanded. 'Does that mean you haven't asked? If you haven't I'll see if I can set you up. Don't crumple up this note, too.'

Justin crumpled up this note, too. He heard an offended sniff beside him and there were no more Post Its after that.

As much as he wanted to focus on the different varieties of airline food, Justin found it difficult to concentrate now that Susan had brought up that topic again. Who was he going to ask? During the Yule Ball in fourth year he spent half the evening playing poker in the common room with a few friends, and the rest of it sneaking to the lakeside to fashionably brood about the future and yap about how much cooler they were than all those losers dancing at that stupid ball.

A strong feeling in his gut told Justin not to do that again. Ever.

He reckoned he'd probably ask Mandy Brocklehurst first. They were friends already, or at least they played tic tac toe together in Ancient Runes when the lectures got too boring.

There was a reason Parvati Patil was number one on the list, though.

Justin's seat was by the window and, for the umpteenth time this year, he stared outside, looking for the groundskeeper's hut. The Gryffindors and Slytherins had Care of Magical Creatures this period and sometimes, if he squinted, he'd see Parvati inching away from something with too many eyes, or standing idly under a tree pretending to be useful while her classmates got their ears yanked by Hibernian Gnomes.

Justin couldn't really see them today. Or rather, he did but couldn't tell them apart because they were all running so fast. Out above Hagrid's hut, an adolescent Manx Redtail flew in lazy circles and casually breathed fire at nearby trees. The Redtail, fascinated by the pretty flapping school robes, flew after the Gryffindors and Slytherins in the disconcerting direction of straight to the castle.

Justin raised his hand.

Falkirk sat back and flicked to another page of the latest issue of Witches 'n Bitches hidden in his marks book, picking his teeth with his wand. The Care of Magical Creatures class's panicked screams filtered through the window slats and Justin wondered if anyone else could hear them. When he looked, however, his class was too busy looking busy and escaping the consequences of Falkirk's detention fetish.

"Professor?" Justin ventured.

"Five points from Hufflepuff for disrupting class. Go back to work," said Falkirk without batting an eyelash. The Hufflepuffs glared at him then discreetly made rude gestures at Justin.

"But, sir, a drag-"

Susan slapped a Post It note on his mouth. He peeled it off. In her rush she only managed to scribble 'shu...' before it trailed off into a wiggly line, but he could guess what it would say.

With a sigh, Justin turned his attention back out the window. He imagined himself standing over the ashes of Hogwarts and the charred skeleton of his Muggle Studies professor, sadly shaking his head and muttering, "I tried to warn him. I did try." Parvati would come up beside him and put a comforting arm around his shoulder.

Justin was startled from his daydream by the sight of Harry Potter and the transfer student with the name suddenly jumping up from behind a large bush when Vincent Crabbe ran past, shrieking high C at the top of his lungs. Harry had his robes on backwards. His glasses somehow ended up on the girl, who was still looking for her robes. Upon seeing the dragon, Harry did some screaming of his own on G, while someone in the distance yelled B flat, and the three of them made a passable C7 chord.

When that was out of his system, Harry whipped out his wand and attempted some heroic dragon-slaying. The Redtail looked blankly at the fireworks Potter shot at its belly, then looked blankly at Harry. A few moments later, it blankly breathed fire in Harry's direction and Harry scampered away, hemline aflame.

Through all this, Justin skimmed the ground for Parvati and saw she was nowhere in sight. She ought to be safe, and felt guilty at the disappointment that followed.

A new fantasy unfolded in his mind: Parvati lying helpless on the ground as the Redtail circles closer and closer. Summoning a broom, he would fly through the window of his Muggle Studies classroom and shoot powerful hexes at the dragon while doing fancy loops and dives. "Oh, Justin!" Parvati would cry in grateful joy, and throw herself into his arms.

The other girl - the Potter-snogger, now fully dressed - shook out her long golden tresses and looked at the Redtail with a gaze of fire and ice that could cut through steel, melt butter, and make fluffy animals automatically like her. She held up her wand menacingly and began to chant a long-winded spell. In the meanwhile, the dragon decided to decimate the Herbology garden.

This was when Hagrid raced in with a saves-the-day expression on his face, clutching something shiny in his hand. The groundskeeper glared grimly at the Redtail. The girl continued her wand-waving and chanting, eyes rolled back in her head as in a trance.

Hagrid knelt a few yards behind her and held the shiny object to his lips. Justin's eyes widened. A dragon whistle! At the same time that Hagrid blew the whistle, a blast of golden light appeared from the girl's wand and shot straight up to the Redtail. And missed, although Justin thought the people on the ground couldn't possibly see that from their angle.

The Redtail floated gently back to the ground. The girl, looking pleased with herself, ran forward to pat the dragon's snout. As it was still in the whistle-induced stupor, it didn't bite her arm off. Hagrid breathed a sigh of relief and wiped his forehead with a kerchief. The smile on his face faded away, however, when a crowd of gawping students gathered around the transfer student with the bad aim, congratulating her. She accepted their praise with a modest, blushing smile.

Well then, Justin thought, feeling ready to go back to the in-flight meals. That was interesting. I didn't think about the Halloween dance even once throughout.

...Oh crap.

-

"...and so it is with great pleasure that I bestow the First Order of Merlin Award upon such a deserving recipient," announced Dumbledore at dinner that evening. She Whose Name Cannot Be Pronounced stood by his side, a gleaming badge pinned onto the front of her robes. The teachers smiled approvingly, except for Hagrid, who sulked into his bouillabaisse; and Snape, who stared at the girl with anguished, conflicted eyes.

"She is a shining example to us all," Dumbledore continued. Not only does she have sparkling violet eyes and long flowing sun-streaked hair, she also tamed a dragon, saved her class from certain death..."

Parvati nodded approvingly and exchanged a few words with Lavender Brown. She then picked up her knife and fork and began to eat her cutlets. While chewing her second bite, she picked up her napkin and dabbed at her mouth.

"Oy!"

Someone smacked Justin very hard on the back of his head.

"Ow! What the-!" He glared at Michael Corner seated beside him. "What was that for?"

Michael winced and blew on his hand. "Bloody hell, you've got a thick head."

"You won't have a head anymore if you don't-" He swatted at Michael, who dodged. Eleanor Branstone beside Michael gave him an irritated look. Michael shrugged guilelessly and turned back to Justin. "It's obvious you like her, you git, so you might as well ask her to the dance. That's what that was for."

"...magically re-grew all of the plants in the Herbology garden; revived Professor Hagrid's dog that had fainted from shock at the dragon..."

"Ask who?" said Justin.

"Denial isn't just a river in Egypt," Michael began.

"Yes, I've heard," Justin cut in. "That's why it's called a cliché."

Michael sighed. "Well, Egypt's got it, but here at Hogwarts we've just got a lake with a giant squid, so my point is you might as well accept it and ask Parvati to the dance."

Across the table Susan Bones, who had been listening with inerest, decided to jump in. "You like Parvati, is it?" She kicked Justin under the table. "You idiot, you didn't even tell me."

"...fixed Dean Thomas's broken arm with her mysterious healing powers of unknown origin..."

"I don't... didn't tell anyone," Justin finally admitted. He sighed.

"You better ask her before anyone else does," Susan smiled.

Justin glanced at the Gryffindor table. Parvati was laughing at something Lavender said. "She'll say no."

"How do you know?" Susan and Michael chorused. Justin turned red.

"...gave our spontaneously-returned Professor Lupin reason to live by helping him to exorcise his inner demons and come to terms with his intimacy issues and the fact that he likes men..." At this, Professor Lupin grinned and waved at everyone.

"I was thinking of asking Mandy Brocklehurst," said Justin.

"Oh," said Michael. "That could work."

Susan rolled her eyes. "No, it wouldn't, silly. He has to ask the one he likes. He has to ask Parvati. It'll be more special. It has to be special." She gave Justin an encouraging grin. "Ask her tonight."

"Fuck no," said Justin matter-of-factly.

"...also, as apparently everyone chose this year to come out of the closet, Arialynne helped Draco Malfoy realise his sexuality and true feelings for Harry Potter..." Dumbledore consulted his notes. "Or was it Ron Weasley?"

"Look," Michael sighed. "Just because I'm an easily intimidated Hufflepuff with not enough self-esteem to ask a girl to the dance, it doesn't mean you have to be."

"You haven't got a date either?" said Susan.

"I don't mind going alone that much," Michael shrugged.

Susan sighed and fiddled with her spaghetti. "What is wrong with Hufflepuff men? It's like ever since Cedric kicked the bucket, you all turned into pathetic wimps."

"...unless Draco is bisexual and snogging Hermione Granger..."

"I think the pathetic wimps thing happened a long time ago," said Justin, pushing around the potatoes on his plate.

Michael chuckled. "Hey, he made a funny. Besides, Susan," he said, fixing her with an impish grin, "I thought you like Hufflepuff men. You dated one last year."

She scowled. "He gave me Post Its for a break-up gift! Post Its, for heaven's sake! No, Ernie Macmillan does not count."

"Well, in any case," Michael drawled, "you're now loyally following in Cedric Diggory's footsteps now, aren't you? Maintaining good Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw relations." He grinned impishly. "How good are they?"

"You're a prat, Corner," said Susan, but she blushed.

"...Mr. Malfoy, remind me again who exactly is your destined soulmate who you will love for all time?"

"Himself!" shouted Ron Weasley, and the Great Hall burst into laughter, including the Slytherin table.

To Justin's simultaneous relief and disappointment, Michael and Susan stopped their badgering after the laughter died down and began to discuss what they would wear to the dance. ("I think I'll go as a witch. What about you?" "I don't know. Maybe a wizard. We can be twins.") At the Gryffindor table, Parvati ruffled Ron's hair. Justin stared at his food.

-

"Ernie?"

Grunt.

"Ernie?"

Grunt.

"Ernie?"

There was a rustle of sheets as Ernie rolled over and shoved his head under his pillow.

"Say that there was this girl you liked and you think you might want to ask her to the Halloween dance but maybe you don't, and she might say no, would you?"

Ernie snored a very deliberate-sounding snore.

"And she's nice and all and you're friends, kind of - well, you sit behind her in Transfiguration - but at least you know each other's names and that's good enough of a start to ask her, right?"

A pregnant pause ensued, then Ernie's muffled voice wafted from the next bed over. "Are you not at all concerned with the fact that you are being a stupid, annoying little git?"

"No," said Justin. "I wasn't the one who got attacked by charmed Post Its after I gave my girlfriend a crappy present."

"...Point taken."

"Colin Creevey took photos."

"I said point taken."

"No, photos."

There was another pregnant pause.

"Haha," said Justin. "Just pulling your leg."

"...Sure. Listen, Justin, whatever it is, maybe we can talk about it in the morning, yeah?"

"Can you take the pillow off your face? I can barely understand you."

There was a shuffling sound from the next bed as Ernie did just that, and an 'oomph' sound from Justin when Ernie's pillow hit its mark.

"Now shut the bloody fuck up." Ernie grappled for his wand on the nightstand and swished it around a few times as he mumbled some spell or other. The curtains around Ernie's bed jerked shut.

So much for some Macmillan McLovin advice Ernie was always going on about. Despite the Post-Its incident, Ernie was actually quite good with the ladies; he and Hannah Abbott were now the couple. It was just that he had wonky gift ideas.

Maybe Justin shouldn't have woken him up in the middle of the night after all. But in the daytime anyone could be listening in. They'd know about him, they'd know about Parvati, and they'd know about the lack of a conjunction between the two.

So? said the rational part of his mind. You're older, and wiser, and braver than you were as a fourth year, so surely you can stand facing your feelings for a girl?

He wondered whether he really would, after the tossing and turning and contemplating, ask Parvati Patil to the dance. Could he be so ruthless? The dance was on Saturday. More specifically: it was the day after tomorrow. Even more specifically: aaaaargh. Could he be so ruthless tomorrow? To march to the Gryffindor table at breakfast and proclaim to her, "You. Me. Shake booty."

Justin decided he was the biggest wimp he knew.