It all starts when Joey and JC sneak out to see Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Evading the bodyguards is no easy feat, and Chris and Justin gaze at them in awe and wonder as they climb back on the bus, trailing a scowling Lonnie behind them. No one knows quite what hits them until JC waltzes over to Lance’s bunk and bops him on the head with a sparkly purple plastic wand, declaring with glee, “You shall be Hermione!”

Lance growls, “Fuck no!”

Chris claps his hands and laughs, chirping, “Who can I be? Who can I be?”

Joey appears at his side, regally whacking him on the ass with his wand, blue and glittery with a plastic streamer, which he hadn’t been able to pull off so just left it. “I hearby deem you He Who Shall Not Be Named.” JC nods in ecstatic approval. Chris shoves him.

“I am not. Make me someone cool.”

“Well, at least you’re not a fucking girl,” Lance mutters.

Justin chooses then to stumble past them, bleary eyed and not in the mood. The imprint of the couch pillow is still on his cheek. Joey and JC glance at each other, and Joey nods. Grinning, JC launches himself at Justin and shouts “Lockhart!”

Chris offers a petulant scowl. “Why does he get to be Lockhart?”

Joey leans over and mutters in his ear, “Because he loves himself that much.”

“Ohh,” Chris says, nodding wisely. Suddenly, he’s happy to be Voldemort.

Justin grins sleepily. It takes him a moment to catch onto the game, but soon he’s excited and whispering with JC behind his wand. They peer over the top of the wand at Chris, whose fingers are reaching for Joey’s wand. Justin pokes JC. “Dude. Where’s my wand?”

“Yeah,” Chris echoes, jerking his hand away as Joey turns around. “Where’s my fuckin’ wand?”

“You don’t get one,” Joey says as JC hands the others out, prancing about and dropping them ceremoniously in everyone’s laps. Lance’s is a magician’s wand, black with a white tip, and Justin’s is a pink fairy wand complete with a star on the end, because JC liked variety.

“What the fuck is this?” Justin demands, looking at his wand. “This is a girly wand. Give it to Lance.” Lance grips his tightly and holds it protectively behind his back.

“Fuck I don’t get one!” Chris yelps, still pissed about not having something to wave around and poke them with.

“You’re Voldemort,” JC points out.

“You can’t say his name!” Justin squeaks. Lance pats him on the head. Justin glares at him, then looks at Joey. “Who’s everyone else?”

Joey holds his wand at attention in front of his face, then sweeps it aside before bowing low. “Ron Weasley,” he says, in an awful British accent. JC steps in, and with a marginally worse accent announces, “I’m Harry. Harry Potter.” Justin notices he has a black squiggle mark drawn with marker on his forehead.

Justin looks at Lance, who is pouting with his arms folded across his chest. “Who do you get to be?” he asks. Lance just glares at him. Chris pokes him in the side.

“He’s Hermione!” he exclaims, dissolving into giggles. Lance shoves him onto the floor, which only makes him giggle harder, only now he’s rolling around and kicking his legs. “He gets to be a giiiiiiiiiirl!”

“Well, at least I wasn’t stuck on the back of someone else’s head, like in the first movie,” Lance grumbles.

Chris stops giggling and sits up. Justin doesn’t realize he’s the target until Chris is attached to his back, hooting and yelling.

“Say my name, bitch!” he hollers, pounding Justin’s shoulders. Justin shrieks and tries to dislodge him. “I cahn’t!” he whines, and JC and Joey are impressed that his bad English accent is better than theirs.

Chris drops off of Justin as quickly as he got on, struck by an idea. “You need glasses!” he says to JC, then disappears for a moment. When he comes back, he is holding his glasses and Scotch tape. Measuring out a piece, he wraps the tape around the bridge. With great care he steps close to JC and slips them on his head.

“Dude,” JC says, blinking. “I can’t see anything.” He lurches forward, feeling with his hands as Chris darts out of the way. He runs into something solid and warm, meeping when he realizes it’s Joey. Joey steadies him with his arms, slipping one around his waist as he kisses the top of JC’s head.

“I don’t remember that in the movie,” Lance drawls, not even bothering with the accent.

in the mood?