Work Text:
Chris Trott hated to be late for anything. So much, that when he woke up in the Hufflepuff dormitories tangled in limbs and blankets that weren’t his own, he panicked.
“Ross! Smith! Get up!” he urged, pushing the two still sleeping boys away and squirming out of their grips.
“Just one more minute, mum,” Ross grunted into Smith’s bare chest, earning himself a whomping from Trott’s pillow.
“What’s the hurry, Trott?” Smith asked, sitting up just enough to allow Ross to remain clinging to his body.
“We have to get to class,” the Ravenclaw reminded them, hopping about while he tried to pull on his trousers, “Professor McGonagall will give me detention for a week if I’m late again.”
Ross rolled off the bed, “well Smith and I have Herbology and Professor Sprout just loves me, so we have plenty of time. It’s just you that needs to get a move on, really,” he noted.
Rolling his eyes, Trott pulled on his Ravenclaw robe.
“Whatever, see you guys later.”
The other students didn’t usually pay Trott or Smith too much attention when they were seen in the Hufflepuff common room. They had been freely coming and going since their third year, and nobody had ever minded enough to stop them. However, Trott was certain he could hear some snickering from a group of first years when he left through the passageway.
The strange looks and giggles seemed to follow him while he made his way towards Transfiguration, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. Was it because his hair was sticking up in a funny direction? Did he miss a particularly embarrassing howler at breakfast? Whatever it was, it was beginning to get on his nerves.
He entered Transfiguration exactly one minute late, spouting all sorts of bullshit excuses as he took his usual seat beside Hannah. McGonagall didn’t turn around from the chalkboard, but beside him, Hannah chuckled.
"What?" He demanded in an angry whisper, glaring at the girl beside him.
"I take it you dressed rather quickly this morning," she smirked.
"Yeah, and?"
"Mister Trott," McGonagall's voice interrupted, "would you please explain why it is that your uniform is incorrect?"
"I- what?" Trott frowned, looking down at his Ravenclaw robe.
And his Hufflepuff jumper.
And his Slytherin tie.
Whooping and giggling filled the classroom as Trott's face went redder than a chilli pepper. He attempted to say something, but nothing left his mouth. McGonagall directed him towards the door, handing him a slip that read ‘DETENTION’ as he left.
With the sound of students laughing muffled through the heavy wooden door, Trott began to make his way towards the greenhouses to retrieve his proper uniform.
Rounding a tight corner, he walked straight into Ross.
“‘Ello, mate,” grinned Smith from behind, removing a Ravenclaw tie that was around his neck. “Looking for this?”
Trott glared at his boyfriends, “you didn’t think to tell me I was wearing the wrong uniform before I left?”
“We didn’t notice, mate. Hell, we didn’t notice until we were halfway to Herbology," Ross told him while he reached for his tie back.
Smith gave an impish smirk, “nah, mate. The blue brings out my eyes.”
“Come on, Smith, I’m missing Transfiguration,” Trott said, unimpressed.
Smith held the tie out of Trott's reach, laughing as the shorter boy leaped in an attempt to snatch it back.
"Give. It. Here. You. Arse," Trott said, each word punctuated by a jump towards his tie.
"Aww, but I want it, Trott. Ross, tell him I look better in blue."
"You're not even wearing it," Ross sighed, leaning against a column and stuffing his jumper into his bag.
"Smith, ugh," Trott groaned.
He whipped out his wand and directed it at Smith. Knowing that Trott was one of the best Charms student in the school, Smith's expression faltered, suddenly fearful.
"Trott..."
"Accio."
The tie yanked itself from Smith's grip and flew back to its owner, who muttered a few more words and let it slip into place around his neck, knotting itself.
Ross chuckled to himself as Smith stood in shock.
"That's not fair, Trott, you cheated!" He said when he had regained the ability to speak.
"We're wizards, you cock. Magic isn't cheating," Trott retorted, pulling his jumper on over his head.
"Right," Ross said, "if you two are done bickering d'you fancy ditching class and go to Hogsmeade?"
Smith nodded, "if Buzzkill McFunbuster's keen," he gestured towards Trott, who gave him the finger.
"Come on then," Ross said, leading the way down the hall.
The other two trailed behind, prodding each other in the side every now and then.