This was requested by Renxi-XV. I hope you like it!

Quidditch.

The word can send a shiver up your spine. It can make your fists clench, your voice raise, and your spirit soar. It is the ultimate game of skill and sport.

But for some, it is not a game.

Those are the people who are not discouraged by the pouring rain, lightning, snow, hail, tsunami...whatever. The point is, I'm about to introduce some really passionate Quidditch fans, alright? So pay attention.

Alfred F. Jones, Gryffindor, year six. Short blonde hair, cowlick, sky blue eyes, muscles. Your run-of-the-mill hot handsome lady-killer. (But not the kind that actually kills ladies. That would be an entirely different story.)

And in this corner, Arthur Kirkland! Weighing One hundred and twenty pounds (and Francis swears twenty of those pounds are solely contributed by his eyebrows) Ravenclaw prefect, bookworm, your common geek. Round one! Ding Ding!

Arthur, being the little nerd he is, is quite well-known around Hogwarts for being...well, the little nerd he is. His stubborn attitude, abundant pride and a no-nonsense look in his eye only added to the fact that simply no one liked him. Aside from a few distant friends (and Francis) Arthur was a loner. He would never admit this, though.

On the contrary, we have our little blonde hunk. He's got the whole school wrapped around his finger, but he doesn't seem to notice. Idiot. If you were to ask any of the girls swarming around him, you'd find he has never once accepted or returned their proclamations of love. They would also inform you that he only ever hangs out with a small group of people. (One of them is rumored to be a ghost, and goes by the name "Mark". Or is it "Matt"? Oh, I can't remember.)

Anyways, Arthur and Alfred are totally different. Complete and polar opposites. Except, apparently, when it comes to Quidditch.

"OI!" Arthur yelled over some thunder. "Are you on a flying broom or are you just sitting up there on an enchanted twig? Fly, you bloody fool!"

"Dude, what are you doing? ARE YOU EVEN LOOKING FOR THE SNITCH? Ah, don't worry. Ravenclaw will never find it."

Green eyes snapped sideways, sandy blonde locks were pushed back, and a sour expression was put on. "Excuse me?"

Alfred spared a glance at the enraged boy beside him. He did a double take when he noticed that it was Arthur Kirkland. Arthur! In a storm, watching Quidditch! Maybe he wasn't just a bookworm after all.

"I'll have you know that Ravenclaw is completely competent in all aspects of the word. Not only will we pummel your prideful arses to the ground, but we'll do it with wit, too."

Alfred tried to hold back his laughter. "Yeah right!" He taunted. "Dude, you can't beat the heroes!"

Now more people had begun to spare their precious attention to look at the argument breaking out. To their surprise, they found Arthur Kirkland and Alfred F. Jones of all people! Smartly said, glances quickly turned to stares.

"Ha! Some heroes! Your Chaser can barely hold onto the Quaffle!"

"What? Dude, I think your Seeker is blind or something. Look at him circling all confused up there!"

Arthur didn't look. No way was he going to stop glaring at Alfred. Not even if someone offered him a year supply of chocolate frogs. And he loves chocolate frogs.

"Please. You have no right to say anything with the team you have out there. What are they doing, sweeping the field? If you ask me, the entire house of Gyffindor is full of bumbling idiots like you!"

The crowd gasped. No one insults Alfred F. Jones. No one.

"Yeah? Let's bet. Gryffindor is gonna win."

Arthur crossed his arms and did his best to look very confident. "The stakes?"

Alfred paused. The crowd around them shouted out a few suggestions. Finally, Alfred decided.

"The loser has to sneak into Professor Gilbert Beilshmidt's office and take his spell notebook of jinks. Then they have to transform themselves into...um..."

"A rat!" Someone shouted. Alfred shook his head. "A fish!"

"Then wouldn't they die?"

"Fine then. A mermaid."

"No! How about...Oh! I've got it!" All heads turned towards Elizabeta, a Ravenclaw. "The loser must transform themselves into...this!" The brunette pulled a sketchbook from her robes and showed off a drawing to the crowd.

"Alright! And they have to stay like that for the whole day! And...!" Alfred paused for dramatic effect (it works rather well, you should try it sometime.) "They have to drink the Felix Felicis Vargas made!"

"But didn't that backfire? It causes bad luck now, right?"

Alfred smirked. "Exactly." Then he turned to Arthur, shoulders set. "Deal?"

Arthur put on his best I'm-better-than-you face. "Deal."

They shook hands.

Now, if either of the boys had the sense to look up in the stands during this brutal exchange, they would have seen that making a bet was not such the grand idea. The snitch was nowhere in sight. It would be a long hour before it made it's appearance. Little did everyone know, the snitch had not been flying the whole game. In fact, it spent the first half of the sport in the palm of a rather mischievous professor, who was bored. Being bored and mischievous is never a good thing.

So when the Snitch came into sight, not only did it make itself known, but it sped right towards a Seeker! You'd have to live under a rock (or be Feliciano) to think this was normal. The crowd, confused, stopped cheering and shouting to watch the little golden ball fly through the rain and practically embed itself in the Seeker's palm. For a moment, it was silent except for the rain.

"Victory to...Ravenclaw?"

Ravenclaw gave a weak, confused cheer before fading. Mumbling throughout the stands could be heard from all houses. The players on both sides of the field drifted down from their brooms. People began asking questions and straining to look at the snitch. Some even glanced up at the sky.

Headmaster Rome chose this time to stand. "Now...I think...that something isn't right here." He said.

"Brilliant deduction." Arthur huffed under his breath, rolling his eyes.

"Bring me the Snitch." Rome commanded, extending a hand.

A player flew up and dropped the little ball in his hands. It was now totally motionless. How odd.

After a few minutes, the headmaster had poked at, sniffed and bit the poor Snitch enough to announce: "This snitch has been tampered with! Victory is void!"

Boos rang from the Ravenclaws. Arthur sneered.

"And I'm tired, and it's time for dinner! I declare a tie!" Rome yelled.

This statement was met with even louder boos from everyone. But the curly haired man paid no attention. He was the Headmaster. He does what he wants.

While other students kicked dejectedly at the puddle-filled ground and cursed their luck and their Headmaster's sense of justice, Alfred and Arthur (as well as the group around them) stared at one another, baffled.

"So...who won?" Alfred asked.

The group immediately started shouting, everyone taking some side or another. A few shoves were exchanged, along with some choice words for mothers.

But in the end, it was once again Elizabeta who came to everyone's rescue. "Wait! I have an idea! They have to split the punishment! One will drink the potion, and the other will transform!"

The crowd paused, and thought about the proposed plan. Yes. It was rather nice. Of course, the easiest way would be to just declare no winner or loser, a tie. But where is the fun in that?

…

Arthur had always hated these people. Rascals, the lot of them. He grimaced as he tip-toed (in a manly way) down the hall. It was the dead of the night, and it was completely dark. Luckily, he was quite good at sneaking around. A spy, a right James Bond, is what he is at heart. (But as a prefect, no one would ever know that.)

Arthur pressed himself against the wall just outside his classroom. He had been charged with breaking into the albino professor's class and transforming into Eliza's drawing with aid of the albino's "secret" notebook. (Honestly, though. The whole school knew about that thing.)

Arthur quickly pulled out his wand and unlocked the door. He slipped inside the room and closed the door with only a faint click. Striding to the desk, he opened the middle right drawer from the backside of the corner of the desk, next to the one across from the one with the scratch over it. (AWESOMELY HIDDEN.)

Arthur sighed and opened the drawer, pulling out the thick notepad. He laid it on the desk, coughing on the dust. Waving his hand in front of his face and blinking back his tears, he opened the thing.

Finally, Arthur found the correct spell. He pulled out the drawing for reference. "Oh, bloody hell." He sighed.

"Mutatio!"

…

Alfred was never very graceful. In fact, he was a complete klutz. He was known for knocking over potions, snapping his wand, or even tripping over the occasional house elf. This exact clumsiness is what caused him to get into quite the trouble.

"What are you doing up so late? You'll be in trouble! Go back to your dorm!" A painting shouted at him.

"Sorry, sorry!" He said, getting up from the floor.

"And all that racket. I'm trying to sleep, here!" Another picture bemoaned. Alfred hastily stood up, parts of the armor clattering once more. He had tried to duck behind the suit like a super spy, but had knocked it over instead. Being the hero he is, he tried to pull it back, but it only changed the direction of it's falling. It shattered into a million pieces, right on top of Al.

After Alfred had assembled the remains into a very messy pile, he scurried away from the scene. "Sorry!" He said again.

Flinching from the angered calls, he ducked into the classroom. "Feli? You here?" He whispered.

The classroom was super dark and scary. Alfred was muggle-born, and he used to be really scared of ghosts. Now that he'd met a few, he wasn't so terrified. But they still really freaked him out. This place just screamed haunted.

A figure moved in the back of the class, near the desk. "Feli? Is that you?" Alfred asked.

The figure shifted again. It began moving towards the blonde, slowly. Alfred's breath caught in his throat. That wasn't Vargas. It was too big to be him. And it was so quiet...

"W-who are you?" Alfred cried.

The figure stepped into the light of Alfred's wand. Alfred was met with blood red eyes.

"Eeeck!" Alfred screamed. "Ghosts! Ag! No! Vampires! STAY AWAY! AAAAH!" The figure slapped a pale hand over his mouth. Alfred's eyes widened and he tried to shriek even louder.

"Shh! Jeez, kid. D'ya wanna be caught?"

Alfred stopped struggling. He looked up at the man. "Feshor Beelshmid?" He asked around the hand. Gilbert released him. "Yeah! The awesome me! You were really scared! You should have seen your face! It was awesome!" Gilbert laughed. Once he had his fill, he wiped the tears from his eyes and straightened out his face and posture. "But seriously, here's the potion." Gilbert handed him the strange liquid. It looked bronze, not gold. It slashed around horridly. Alfred pocketed it.

"Don't drink it 'till eyebrows is right in front of you in his get-up. Don't wanna waste the embarrassment. Ha!"

Alfred frowned. He could only imagine what this bottle would do to him. "You won't tell the Head, right? And where's Feliciano?"

Gilbert waved him off, pushing him towards the door. "Nah. I don't wanna spoil the fun! Ever since those Kirkland twins graduated this place has been dull. I want my entertainment! As for the little Hufflepuff, he's with my lil' bro. I came in his place. I think they're dating or something. Whatever. Good luck, kid! Or rather...bad luck. Kesesese~!"

Gilbert pushed Alfred out, and snapped his door shut behind him. He sighed. Just great. Even the teachers knew what was going on! That meant the whole school would be watching his torment. And Arthur...Alfred smirked at the thought. At least that made him feel a bit better. He wouldn't have to face the school looking like that.

…

Arthur had kept hidden all night. It was the deal that he didn't have to be seen until Alfred drank the potion. So he found himself sitting, bored out of his mind, in the prefect's bathroom. Just as he was about to reverse the spell and demand that Alfred drink it, the boy stormed in.

"I'm here! Not late! Like a Hero!" Alfred smiled, waving to the Gryffindor prefect that had shown him the way. It seemed like everyone was willing to break the rules for the sake of the boy's torture.

The prefect waved back and left, snapping the door shut. Alfred looked around the place. They really went all-out. He would have spent more time admiring the toilets (they were beautiful!) but something distracted him. He took one look at Arthur and burst out laughing.

Arthur blushed and tried to pull the outfit down some. A lot of the students wanted to go all-out with the transformation, but simplicity really was the best. (Not to mention that Arthur had a knack for messing up spells.) The Englishman was wearing a short short white toga that barely covered anything. A halo floated above his head, casting off a faint glow. He even had stubby little wings twittering at his back. His wand had changed, too. It was a thin piece of metal (can you imagine? A metal wand!) with a big yellow star at the tip. He looked, in all essence of the word, ridiculous. "Oh, shut it you twat!" Arthur screamed. "Let's see who will be laughing by the end of the day! Drink that potion!"

Alfred, now convinced that some measly mis-happed potion could never embarrass him more than Arthur was sure to be, took the flask out of his pocket. "Sure thing, dude!" He chuckled.

He pressed the thing to his lips. It tasted foul. He could have sworn there were hairs in it! It slid down his throat like one would imagine long spoiled milk would. Gagging, Alfred rushed towards a sink. He turned on the faucet, but the water sprayed him in the face, like the thing was partially clogged. Staggering backwards, Alfred slipped on the glass bottle and fell on the ground. Arthur watched this all happen, laughing his evil little arse off. "I have to give Feliciano credit, that effect was immediate!"

Alfred moaned and tried to sit up. "Oh man..."

Arthur was convinced that today was going to be a very good day.

…

At breakfast, the place was humming. Arthur stood out quite plainly. He was the only one in white, and he was very under-dressed.

"Arthur Kirkland," a voice said sternly, startling the boy. "Just what are you wearing? Why aren't you in uniform?"

Alfred dared to turn around behind him. He found none other than Professor Germania, staring at him with extreme scorn. He tried not to shiver. "S-sorry, sir. I was practicing a spell and something went wrong. No matter what I do, I can't change my clothes." He lied. His eyes flickered to Gilbert, who waggled his eyebrows at him (none too discreetly). "A-and Professor Beilshmidt tried to reverse it! But he couldn't!"

The this, Germania turned on the albino. "Is this true?"

"Um...yep," the potions master replied. "Couldn't get it off of him. Luckily, though, it only lasts a day. He'll be back to normal tomorrow."

The long-haired blonde sniffed. "Very well. But I expect no funny business, Kirkland!"

"Y-yes sir!"

A few people snickered. One of those people happened to be Alfred, who was watching from his table. "Aw man, he already got in trouble! And now the whole school's seen what he's wearing!" Alfred chortled and reached for his pumpkin juice. At that moment, the post arrived. The sudden flurry of wings caused Alfred to knock his drink all over the girl next to him. She was only a first year, little Lily. "Oh, sorry Lily!" He cried, sponging up the liquid with a napkin. The blonde girl just smiled weakly. "It's fine it was just an acci-"

"Get your filthy hands off my sister this instant." Alfred looked up and spied a very terrifying man. Vash. He was holding his wand oh-so-casually in his hand, the other one on his sisters shoulder. "I suggest you never come near her again." He glared.

Alfred pressed his lips together and stood up from the bench. He reached down and picked up his plate, thinking he'd eat somewhere safe. But at that moment, the post decided to leave. The owls all took off once more. The Vargas' family owl (known for it's speed and stupidity) flew right into Alfred's plate, sending it and the mountain of food on top of it flying. And just his luck, it landed on a certain fuming blonde. "JONES!" Vash screamed. "Anteoculatia!"

…

Arthur held his stomach as he laughed. "And it's barely past breakfast!" He declared, with obvious glee. Alfred had just been treated, as Vash's hex had caused him to grow antlers. He scratched at his head. "Those things were itchy." He informed Arthur.

Now normally Arthur would be appalled at the idea of spending his Saturday with Alfred F. Jones, but he didn't want to miss any part of the show. He made his way down the stairs, still smiling. He was sure to skip the second step, as it was false. As he jumped over it, his toga lifted up a little. Someone standing by wolf-whistled. "Oh shut it!" He yelled at them.

He was thinking of more words to yell, when something grabbed his arm. Turning, Arthur found Alfred knee-deep in the stairs. He had forgotten to skip the step like some sort of first year!

Of course, Alfred would never admit it, but in all truth he had been distracted by Arthur's legs. He hadn't noticed up until now, but when they weren't covered with robes or tweed pants they actually looked pretty hot...

Wh-what the hell was he thinking! No they didn't! Alfred shook out his head, which caused Arthur to look at him strangely. "I would ask what was wrong with you but I fear it will take days for you to complete your answer." Arthur said, rolling his eyes. He hoisted him up. Alfred ran a hand threw his hair. "Yep! This potion is really wacking me up! Anyways, I was gonna go down to the lake to-"

Arthur snorted. "I don't care. I'm just here for the show."

Alfred stopped talking. Right. Arthur hated him. "Okay then." He made his way down the stairs once more, well aware of the blonde trekking after him. He hated him too, right? Well, no. Heroes didn't hate people who weren't evil villains. And Arthur wasn't evil, he just enforced and followed the rules. (Well, mostly)

So, yeah, Alfred couldn't hate him. But that didn't mean he had to like him. Even if he had seen him be pretty heroic sometimes. Like when he broke up that fight last week with some freakin' awesome magic. Or when he saved Professor Heracles cat from the whomping willow. Yeah. He didn't have to like him. Nope. Not a bit.

They kept walking in almost complete silence, which was only broken by the occasional passing student calling out to Arthur. "Lookin' good, Kirkland!"

"I love what you've done with your wings!"

"Ya look beautiful today, Angel."

That last one had really set him off, and Alfred even had to hold him back. Of course, because of this, Arthur pushed him. Then Alfred tripped over a pile of armor (why was that there?) and broke his wand. Again. Dammit.

By the time they finally made it to the lake, Alfred wanted nothing more than to just lay down on the grass and forget about things. So he did. He flopped down and hit his head on a small rock. Huffing angrily, he threw it towards the lake. But at just the wrong moment Vash stepped in font of it's path and he was hit in the shoulder. Rubbing it, he looked around. Spying Alfred, his eyes narrowed "You'll regret that, Jones!"

"No! It was an accident, really! I'm sorry!"

Vash stalked off, murmuring something about evil plans. Arthur chuckled. "Bad luck, huh?" He asked Alfred, sitting down beside him.

Someone at the lake's shore whistled. "Nice view I got, Kirkland!"

Arthur immediately blushed up to his ears and crossed his legs, pulling down his toga, his wings fluttering in embarrassment.

"Huh?" Alfred said, raising an eyebrow. "Arthur, are you free balling?"

If possible, Arthur's face reddened. "NO!" He cried. "I mean, maybe...It's not like I want to! I tried to put on some underwear but the blasted spell won't let me! Shut up!"

But Alfred wasn't talking. He was trying desperately hard not to think about the things attached to those wonderful legs. He looked back to the beach. "Oh."

Arthur buried his face in his hands. "This bet was so stupid. The only thing that makes it worthwhile is seeing you fall on your arse every five minutes."

Alfred laughed. "And the only thing that makes it worthwhile for me is seeing you in that." Arthur's head snapped up and he stared at Alfred with wide eyes and red cheeks. Alfred realized what he said. "No! I didn't mean it like that! I meant seeing you being embarrassed and blushing...I mean! Never mind..."

Arthur looked away. "Right-o."

…

It was a bit past lunch, and Alfred and Arthur were being stalked by various students. They had all caught on that the best form of entertainment would be to hang around them for a day. Alfred had suffered quite a bit at their expense, falling down two flights of stairs and a bat-bogey hex from Vash. He also had three girls confess their undying love to him, and he had to fight them off. Arthur didn't find that bit funny.

Especially now, because he was facing a similar problem.

"Ohonhon, Arthur! Why did you not tell me you had such a fine body hidden under your cloak?" Francis, a Slytherin, prodded.

"Go away you frog!" Arthur yelled, his wings flapping once in irritation. "Stop looking! You perverted snake!" Arthur tugged down his toga.

"I am not a frog nor a snake. Though I do have one. Would you care to meet him? He only has one eye."

"Go away!"

Francis laughed and trotted closer to the blonde. He grabbed his hips. "Why don't you come with me?"

Alfred suddenly felt angry. Francis should not be touching Arthur. It's one thing if he teases him, but he should never touch him. Alfred caught Francis by the neck of his robe and hoisted him backwards. "Hands off, Frenchie." He snarled. Francis looked very scared. The crowd that had been following them stopped messing around and stared at Al. "Get away from Arthur." Alfred warned, pushing Francis away. The Frenchman stumbled backwards. Then he turned and fled.

"The rest of you, leave too!" Alfred said, shooing away the crowd. They dispersed easily, whispering about new rumors.

Alfred sighed and stalked down the hallway.

"What the bloody hell was that!" Arthur asked, running to catch up with him.

"I'm sick of them bugging us." Alfred replied. Usually, he wasn't like this. He was the Hero! Francis and him even talked every so often. But something about him today had just rubbed him the wrong way. "I'm especially sick of Francis."

Arthur gave little exasperated laugh. "I do believe we're all sick of that Frog!" He said. He finally caught up to Al. "But what on Earth, Alfred. I've never seen you so angry!"

Alfred wanted to give him an answer. But he didn't have one. "Must be the potion."

Arthur had no choice but to accept his reply.

…

By the time dinner rolled around the rumor from lunch had spread like wildfire. And as rumors of do, it contorted itself into the most ridiculous of things. Some people were saying that Francis had attacked Arthur with a one-eyed snake and Alfred had stepped on it. Others said that Alfred and Arthur were in a secret relationship and Francis had gone too far. And the worst of them was that Alfred had killed Francis with a one-eyed snake and then transformed a frog to look like him to cover up the crime. And Arthur had been his accomplice.

"No! I didn't kill Francis!" Alfred repeated for the hundredth time that night. Were people really that stupid?

Arthur had problems of his own. A group of girls with drippy mascara and red-rimmed eyes had cornered him in the mess hall and proceeded to sob and congratulate him. "I love Alfred so much, but I'm very happy you two are happy..." One of them said, hugging Arthur. "We just want you to know that we support you guys! It's just so romantic!"

Arthur blushed. "I AM NOT IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH THAT GIT!"

One of the girls smiled sadly. "It's okay, Arthur. You can admit it now. The whole school knows, anyway. I don't know how I didn't see it sooner. You two are perfect for each other! Just the way your personalities are! And you're both so cute too! I mean, I bet you fit so well in Alfred's arms!"

Arthur spluttered. "I-I do no such thing! He is a complete fool! He doesn't even think of me like that!"

Suddenly, brown hair whipped into his line of vision, shoving a few girls off of Arthur. "What was that, Arthur? A tone of dejection?" Elizabeta asked, her eyes sparkling. "Lost hope? Denial? Longing?"

Arthur wanted to die. "No! I would never think of him like that!"

"So you're not gay for Alfred?"

"I would never think of Alfred like that!" Arthur repeated. Why were these girls so interested in his love life? It was creepy...He tried to rush past them, but Eliza caught his arm and pulled him into the now empty hallway. A few girls followed.

"So you are gay!" She cried happily.

Arthur sputtered. "I! I didn't! I said no such thing!"

Elizabeta laughed, tapping her nose. "Ah! But you didn't deny it either! You said you weren't gay for Alfred (which is a complete lie) but you never denied being gay!"

Arthur blushed some more. Damn Ravenclaw. "Fine! Whatever! Believe what you want to believe. Just leave me alone!"

Eliza giggled. "Oh, I have some business to attend to anyway. Enjoy your dinner, Arthur!

…

So I hope the reader is not surprised to find that just an hour later Alfred was cornered in a similar manner, the only difference being his results, which were much different. "I don't know! Am I gay for him?" He asked Eliza. "I mean, he's got some rockin' legs and I'm pretty sure straight guys don't think that about other guys."

Eliza squealed. "Oh Alfred, this is wonderful! I'm sure you do like him, I mean it only makes sense!"

"It does? Because I'm really confused right now."

Elizabeta pouted and tapped his cheek. "Oh honey, it's alright. I know just what you have to do! You have to pretend to trip because of the potion and then kiss Arthur on the way down! That way, you'll know whether or not you like him. Sound good?"

Alfred looked around at the devious girls. It didn't sound very heroic to him at all, but he really did think Arthur was pretty cute. So just to be sure of himself, he nodded. "Sure."

…

It came to be that as Alfred and Arthur walked through yet another hallway, trying to avoid the many people that were looking for them. ("No really, did you kill Francis? I promise I won't tell!") Alfred was steeling himself to trip for the billionth time that day. He had to get in just the right position for it to be believable. Right now Arthur was going on about unicorns or something of the sort but all Alfred could do was watch his lips move and nod. He'll be touching those lips in a few moments. You know, with his lips. Which is called kissing. Which is what he was about to do...

Quit beating around the bush and do it already! Alfred yelled at himself. Are you a hero or a wimp?

Alfred was totally a hero! So he positioned himself just right, got ready to trip, and just when he was about to do it, Professor Heracles' cat ran around a corner, mewling. It ran right for Alfred and climbed up his leg. This knocked Alfred over, as he had been preparing to trip. Still trying to execute the plan, Alfred grabbed at Arthur's arm. He tried to kiss him but he ended up just banging his head on his chin. The cat yowled and dug it's nails into Alfred's vital regions. Alfred fell to the ground, pulling Arthur on top of him. Arthur accidentally hit the cat, causing it to his and start tearing at Alfred's pants.

Arthur tried to roll off of Alfred, but since Alfred was still holding onto his arm, he could only get so far. "Let go, Alfred!"

But Al was too stunned to listen, so Arthur tugged it out of his grasp. At that moment, the cat-loving professor rounded the corner to see what was making all that racket. Alfred finally let go of Arthur, but his hand fell onto the cat, accidentally slapping it. The cat clawed at it, and the rest of his body too.

Heracles looked at Alfred like he had just killed his grandmother. "How dare you hurt my cat!" He cried, his usual unfeeling, sleeping mood fading away. "Twenty points from Gryffindor!"

Alfred groaned, bleeding on the floor. After the professor scooped up his cat and walked away, Alfred pulled out his wand. Luckily, he knew a spell to help heal his scratches. "Aidez!"

Unfortunately, his (still broken) wand backfired on him. The scratches grew wider. Hissing in pain, Alfred passed out.

…

Alfred awoke in a strange bed. It took him a while to realize that he was in the infirmary, his wounds healed. He still felt terribly sore. There was a window to his right. The sun was on the eastern horizon, signaling early morning. Alfred wondered how long he'd been out. He turned to the other side of the bed, searching for his wand. Instead, he found Arthur. The blonde was sitting in a chair beside the cot. His head and arms were laying on the bed. He was sleeping soundly, and he was wearing normal clothes.

"Oh! You're awake!" The nurse, Tino, a small blonde from Finland, said. He had just entered the room, carrying a clipboard. "Are you feeling better? When you came in here it looked like you had been attacked by a tiger!" Alfred nodded numbly, still staring at Arthur. Tino noticed.

"He was so worried about you." The nurse supplied. "He kept saying it was his fault, and that he didn't mean for you to get hurt, but I don't see how. He only left to change out of whatever it is he was wearing. I got rid of those wings for him, too."

"Really? Well, it wasn't his fault. I was just really clumsy. But thanks for all your help."

"Not a problem!" Tino said happily. "But I'm going to have to have you stay in here until after breakfast. You were pretty bruised up."

Alfred moaned. "But I'm hungry!"

The Finnish man laughed. "I get you something to eat, don't worry. Oh, you might want to wake Arthur up. He's starting to drool." With that, Tino left the room.

Alfred reeled back from Arthur, but shook him awake. "Artie. I mean Arthur! Arthur! Wake up!"

The blonde shifted and lifted his head, rubbing his eyes sleepily. Alfred found it quite heartwarming. After Arthur blinked a few times and looked around, he blushed. "I didn't stay here because I was worried!" He said immediately. Alfred laughed. "Sure you didn't. But thanks, anyway. I'm glad you stayed."

Arthur looked away. "Whatever. It's not like I did it for you or anything."

Alfred caught Arthur's hand before he could cross his arms. He pulled him close. "Hey, Arthur. I need your help. You know those rumors going around? Well, the one that says I killed Francis is really cramping my Hero style. How about we prove one rumor right, so the other become wrong?"

"What are you talking about, you git? It's too early for thinking..."

Alfred smiled. "I was asking you if you'd go out with me."

Arthur blinked a few times. He sat up straighter. "Well that was a horrible way of going about it. What were you thinking?"

Alfred sat up too. "Huh? Wait, did that kill it? No wait!"

"Try again." Arthur offered, waving for Alfred to do so.

"Um...alright, will you go out with me, Artie?"

Arthur sighed. He stood up. "That was terrible too! Where's the romance? Honestly, Alfred."

Alfred panicked. He threw off the sheets and started after Arthur, who had turned around and was heading out the door.

"Wait! No, give me another chance!" He cried.

Little did he know, Arthur was smiling. The Englishman stopped and tried to keep the amusement out of his voice. "Ugh, Alfred you ninny." He turned around, still smiling. Alfred was very confused. Arthur closed the distance between them. "Yes, I will go out with you. Just shut up."

Alfred did just that. He couldn't have talked if he had wanted to, because his lips were rather busy with something else.

The end! Yeah. I had quite a few headcanons in here. For one, Arthur having a sweet tooth. Or Alfred being clumsy. Or Arthur not being a morning person.

I also imagine Arthur to tease Alfred in their relationship. He's usually only portrayed as the grumpy old man or the blushing uke. But I can see him joking and smiling with Alfred, too. It helps that our American is so gullible.

Anyways, I apologize for any mistakes. Grammatically or Harry Potter-y. It's been a while since I've read the books and I'm a bit rusty.

Thanks for reading!

-Mallory