The heavy oak door slammed shut with a finality that echoed through the small, windowless room. The lock clicked, then something heavier—a bar, perhaps—settled into place with a grinding thunk.
Nine students stood in stunned silence, blinking in the dim, candlelit glow. The room was modestly sized, with stone walls and a single, large closet pressed against one wall. On the opposite side hung a large wooden board, covered in neat, handwritten script.
Cedric Diggory
steps forward, hand still on the doorknob, turning it uselessly That's... locked. Properly locked.
Hermione Granger
her eyes wide, already scanning the room This isn't funny. Who would do this? Is this some sort of prank?
Seamus Finnigan
frowns, crossing his arms A right weird one, whoever it is. I didn't sign up for a trip to a dungeon.
Pansy Parkinson
sniffs, examining her nails with feigned disinterest Well, this is just dreadful. My robes are going to be a crumpled mess. And who has the audacity to trap me anywhere?
Neville Longbottom
voice small and nervous M-maybe it's just a mistake? Perhaps a professor will come along soon...
Astoria Greengrass
her voice calm, but her eyes sharp as she gestures to the board I don't think it's a mistake. Look.
All eyes turned to the wooden board. The title at the top, in bold, confident letters, read: FUCK, MARRY, KISS. Below it, a neat list of rules was inscribed.
Oliver Wood
reads aloud slowly, his brow furrowed "The rules are simple. You pick three people. You choose which category you want to put them in. If you pick them for Kiss... you have to kiss them." He pauses, his expression turning puzzled. "If you pick them for Marry... you have to snog them."
Seamus Finnigan
lets out a low whistle Blimey.
Oliver Wood
continues, his voice now carrying a hint of disbelief "And if you pick them for Fuck... you have to spend seven minutes in heaven with them. In the closet." He looks up, his gaze going to the single closet door. "...Bugger."
Pansy Parkinson
lets out a sharp, unladylike laugh You have got to be joking. This is absolutely barbaric. Who came up with this ridiculous— She gestures dismissively at the board. —this tasteless game?
???
a smooth, drawling voice from the back Relax, Parkinson. No one's forcing you to play.
Draco Malfoy leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips as he took in the scene.
The room was quiet for a moment, the weight of the situation settling on them all. Nine students. One room. A locked door. And a very, very clear set of rules.
Cedric Diggory
runs a hand through his hair, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips Well... this is certainly one way to spend an evening.