The students of Hogwarts were all thrilled to evade their crowded minds of useless whimsical knowledge and get out for a kick-ass day at Hogsmeade. It was Harry Potter's sixth year at Hogwarts, so he was there in the crowd which was nice, even though he was just able to go because of some kind of 'special allocation.' But nobody really acknowledged his presence on the way there as it was still fairly dark as they all traversed across the barren snow land of Scotland-in-the-winter to get to their desired destination. It was late morning, and the sun was slowly rising.
The faint light denoting the town of Hogsmeade was a sickly yellow glow, evaporating into the wintry air, in the mere distance. But this light was further away than expected with the climate holding the feeble group of students back. The cold had bullied any comfort out of their bodies, the air biting at their cheeks as they trudged on through the snow, scarves tailing behind them weakly. The sound of a wizard population rumbled away faintly, blowing towards them from Hogsmeade, and bared the promise of warmth, butterbeer and most of all; the winter stock take sale at Forever 21 where 'everything must go!' to make way for some more mainstream crap.
Yes, it was a very cold morning. But that was very questionable for a certain Draco Malfoy's perception of the situation.
Draco was awfully uncomfortable, his intentions were to sneak into Hogsmeade via Hagrid's beard, his slender body sat quite easily in a fetal position amongst the thick bed of chin hair he was surrounded by, so he thought it was a splendid plan of his! Things looked good from the exterior, but so far he had only been rewarded with the smell of dandruff, grease and also a worrying warmth that you shouldn't get when sitting in a beard. Also he was beginning to get an itch on his neck that was not very swell. Every time he inhaled, he would suck down some of Hagrid's wiry hairs and have a close to death experience, his life flashing before his eyes: it was pretty impressive, but Draco knew that it couldn't be healthy having all these wiry brown hairs lodged amongst the alveoli of his lungs. Another worry was that he could somehow contract some kind of glandular disease from this little adventure.
But he was patient, like his mummy taught him, and thus was anticipating the reward of something a little less quarrelsome; freedom! Draco had already planned it out; he had become aware over the years of Hagrid's weak barrier to sleep, so he had devised that he would wait till the fat old sausage bag was deep in a concoction of sleep and a coma, then he would leave Hagrid's beard for a few hours or so for some boyish-tomfoolery before returning to his second hell of a very public transport.
The first hell if you're wondering was when Umbridge came very close to a mid-life crisis and questioned becoming a cougar, but that awkward phase concluded with Draco not accepting her student-teacher romance proposition. It still sends shivers down his spine; thinking what could've transpired that summer's night.
But any who, Draco had finally found himself in the vicinity of Hogsmeade! Chatter arose amongst the students as the group came closer and closer to the thriving town. A few moments later Draco was unaware of which shop Hagrid had walked into, he just hoped it was the Two Broomsticks as assumed; otherwise there would be some issues with his planning.
But luckily, Draco soon found his whole body vibrating from the throaty gurgles that manifested in Hagrid's nasal cavity, Hagrid had fallen asleep faster than expected; obviously the long trek had taken some energy out of him. Hurray for his good fortune! Draco then continued on to move some of Hagrid's beard around to make a little window for his head to pop out of. He looked around and was immediately reconnected with the rest of the world, finding himself in the Two Broomsticks thankfully.
Draco was unaware though that while he had ducked his head out for some fresh air, he had himself in the sight of a very confused Professor McGonagall who then mouthed in his direction, 'What the fu….'
Everything was going to plan otherwise. Draco then closed the hair-window and retrieved his goods, (he came prepared like any good Slytherin would!) quickly returning to the window and then parted the hair on a grander scale so he could leave the beard through a door-like structure. After gingerly climbing out of the mass of wiry hair, he dashed to the little boy's room as fast as his pale little legs would take him to prepare his disguise, where he found Crab and Goyle awaiting his arrival. They all nodded at each other and walked quietly into one of the cubicles in unison.
'Are you two ready?' Malfoy asked hastily, knowing that he had only a few hours or so till Hagrid would awake from his sleep-coma. He sat down on the toilet seat (lid down of course!) as Crab and Goyle crowded him in the now very confined toilet cubicle.
'Yep, and you're gonna' look so frickin' hot!' Exclaimed Goyle excitedly, Crab rolled his eyes.
'Look, don't make me look like bloody Kim Kardashian alright; I want to look decent, presentable. You had your fun with the makeup yesterday, but this is business!' Draco heatedly said. One minute later, Goyle had disappeared from the bathroom, having suddenly become thoroughly unenthusiastic about the project of theirs and Crab was left to awkwardly reinvent Draco's face all by himself.
Draco closed his eyes, awaiting a transformation. He heard a rustle in the makeup bag he had stolen from his aunt Bella, (she wore a lot of makeup, but thank god she did because without it, she had a Chewbacca of a mono-brow!) and then the pop of some sort of lid opening and coming off something. He suddenly felt the light pressure of some sort of blunt pencil being pressed onto his glamorous complexion, specifically his upper lip; Draco was already dreading this idea. He had already tried before seeing himself a moustache, and it definitely did not suit his features. But his worried thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the satisfied sound of Crab saying:
'Voila!'
Draco opened his eyes and blinked, that was pretty quick he thought to himself. He felt weary of what he may find in his reflection in the bathroom's mirror; he felt much more trust in Goyle's hands when it came to make up. But as he left the cubicle, he found himself speechless with his mixed emotions of awe and jealousy, 'Holy cosmetics Crab, you're good at this shit!'
Crab brought his fat head up from the makeup bag he was now packing away and smiled at Draco, except it wasn't Draco, but it was… but it wasn't, but it…. was?
Draco shortened the distance between him and the mirror by stepping forwards even closer; he was truly amazed by how he was literally looking into the reflection of….no, not Hugh Grant, or Johnny Depp, not Cedric Diggory either…. But, Tom Felton!
'You made me look like Tom Felton! W-with a moustache!' Draco's voice squeaked with the last remark, he began stroking his new facial friend fondly. I shall call you Hercules he thought proudly to himself. 'Tom should really try a moustache himself,' Draco added reassuringly, nodding in approval to himself, to Crab who now seemed very content with his finished product. 'It would look so bloody hot on him!' Crab added in agreement. Draco dusted off his shoulders and after a satisfied sigh and one last glimpse of his new self in the mirror, began to leave the bathrooms, Crab trotting behind proudly.
No need for any Polyjuice Potion here! Besides, neither of them knew how to do it anyway…
Tom, uh, Draco took the makeup bag from Crab's grasp and through it into the vicinity of Hagrid's beard that happily ate it through a hole that suddenly opened and then closed on the bag, much like a mouth. Weird huh? And Hagrid continued snoring contently, occupying a majority of the bar's benches.
'Now it's time to get some action Crab! I still have many hours till I am to return to the beard, so I should enjoy myself.' Draco exclaimed confidently, as if talking to his scribe. His eyes scanned the crowd inhabiting the Two Broomsticks as he rubbed his palms together, grinning mischievously. 'We should make a montage of some sort Draco!' Suggested Crab happily, who was enthusiastically responded by a 'Hell no Crab you pussy!' Draco immediately turned to Crab, who was now very disheartened and with a dismissive wave of the hand, said, 'you can go do a montage with Goyle, he's probably in the corner sulking or some sap. I'm going off to get totally shit-faced with some new companions!' Draco eyed some fellow Slytherins surrounding a very influenced Serverus Snape, all of them laughing at Snape's slurred language and wobbly stride.
So they both walked happily in different directions, Crab felt weird not following someone, and soon lost his motive for walking in that direction. So he began following a fly around the room. Many hours later he was admitted into hospital for a foul bowel movement of some sort.
But Draco, on the other hand who felt quite free from the constant stare of two certain persons, kept on with his confident stride until he finally entered the circle of Slytherins. An amused smirk stretched itself across Draco's new face as he watched with many other Slytherins Snape get confused over where he was. He slurred gibberish as he continued to stumble aimlessly in a circle, looking under some chairs and tipping them over loudly.
The children laughed, some pointing at the spectacle. Wasn't Snape supposed to be leading Draco's detention? Oh well. Draco had never seen Snape drunk before, and from the expressions on some of the other Slytherins, Draco guessed that it was a rarity to see a teacher get drunk. He decided to extend his fun even further. He put his hands into his pockets and strode into the centre of the circle confidently. 'Hey, Snape!' He called, looking down his nose at Snape, who was now lifting his head in irritation to the tormenting laughs.
But the laughter was silenced by the roar of the drunken middle aged man; Snape came thundering up and towards Draco! He began stepping backwards, his eyebrows flying upwards in shock as Snape came thundering down, pushing him into a table. Everyone cheered as Draco scrambled under the staggering weight of Snape, who was now lazily flapping his hands at Draco's upper torso, muttering a slurred language. Draco looked around frantically, split between being mortified or outraged, but then he came across the gaze of a pair of especially dazzling eyes. They were emerald, streaked with gold, shimmering a mischief he usually only saw in his reflection.
Draco was suddenly engulfed by an impulse and clenched his fist into a ball, and thrust it at Snape! Snape fell backwards, awkwardly bringing himself upwards and attempting to balance himself. Everyone roared with applause as Snape was conquered by Draco. Snape brought his hands to his large nose and shuffled back to the brick wall, pressing himself against the window pane with his arms spread across the frozen glass. 'Dafuq' Snape murmured, his eyes wide with shock.
Little did Draco know that while he was getting congratulating claps on the back, Snape was recuperating himself and was getting ready to charge back at him! Snape swung forwards clambered towards Draco, everyone dispersing from the circle of admiration that was once around Draco as Snape pushed Draco down. He couldn't recollect what happened next; maybe he hit his head on a table or something. But it knocked him out and caused quite a little quarrel.
