Disclaimer: Anything you recognize, the plot excepted, is the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling.
Authors' Notes: This is a collaborative effort between the Barn and Oompa (take a minute-or several- to go read her other works...). It may take us a while to put out a new chapter, but hopefully they'll be worth the wait. This first chapter is relatively short, as we're still working out the plot, but we hope you like it!
***
Draco Malfoy despised giggles.
He hated giggling girls so much that he often sent those giggling fiends a patented Malfoy I-will-hex-your-lips-off-if-you-don't-stop-that-inane-stupidity glare.
But the one thing he hated even more than a giggling girl was a giggling boy.
Because, through some inexplicable phenomenon that earned him several beatings as a child, Draco was prone to catching the contagious male-giggle. And a Malfoy was not one to giggle. Chuckle, yes, but giggling was not tolerated. Lucius Malfoy would not raise an effeminate heir.
So Draco learned at an early age how to seal his own mouth if ever there was some errant male around that couldn't control his humour. Or if a weak Rictusempra was cast near anything with a penis (a strong Rictusempra produced fits of laughter, which was all right with the Malfoys. But no giggling, ever).
But more than anything, Draco Malfoy hated Harry Potter.
At the moment, it wasn't because the Boy Who Lived was a stupid Scarfaced Pottyhead (Draco's inner 11-year-old was still smarting from that "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks" comment from so long ago)- and it wasn't for all those other reasons that had accumulated throughout their years at Hogwarts.
No, Draco hated Harry Potter for just one reason at the moment: his hair.
His messy, unkempt hair. His hair that refused to lay flat. His hair that could only be tamed by the slobber of Fang, the boarhound. And the nice, clean, meticulous Draco Malfoy did NOT go near enough Hagrid's hut to see that dog.
***
It had all started innocently enough. Professor Snape had been in a particularly foul mood all week, and the culmination of that brooding had been the partnering of a Malfoy and a Potter during Friday's Potions class.
"Listen up!" Snape barked. "This potion isn't particularly tricky, so I expect everyone"- here he glared at Neville Longbottom- "to manage a decent draft. Of course, it's also easy enough to convert to a poison, should one make too many careless mistakes,"- here Neville audibly gulped- "so proceed with caution. The effects of a properly-prepared potion will manifest within the next 24-hours and will last throughout the weekend. I expect an 13-inch parchment on what you've learned about this particular potion and your own experiences with it on Monday. Points WILL be taken off for extremes in length, whether too short or too long, so keep the essay concise and precise. You may begin."
Draco and Harry eyed each other warily as they approached their lab table. They fell into a silent working pattern: Harry sliced the boomslang skin while Draco added the powdered bicorn horn, etc. It seemed that neither one of them felt daring enough to start insulting the other; this was probably true for Harry, but Draco was really too worried about Neville Longbottom to pay much attention to Harry. The bumbling Gryffindor had been prone to fits of giggling since botching a batch of the Liquid Cachinnus at the end of their 5th year, and the last thing Draco wanted to was to start giggling while working with Harry blasted Potter.
All work seemed to be going along rather smoothly. Maybe too smoothly, for just a few minutes later, Seamus Finnegan managed to blow up his and Millicent Bulstrode's work. Various projectiles rifled through the air, and an errant spoon hit Draco in the head. Draco's hands immediately flew to his perfectly sculpted hair and nearly shrieked when he felt the "damage" the utensil had caused. As he hurried to fix it, Harry watched all this in amusement, running a hand through his own black mop. When he snickered, Draco stopped and snarled, "So Potter, you think this is funny? Just because your own personal grooming habits are lacking doesn't mean that everyone has to follow the path of the great Scarface."
Just as Harry was about to retort, Snape's voice intervened, "Mr. Potter, if you would kindly get back to your work, maybe we can salvage the rest of the hour in peace? Five points from Gryffindor... Mr. Finnegan, clean up that mess. You may go to the Infirmary after your workspace is spotless, and I suggest you don't scratch that..."
Harry rolled his eyes out of Snape's line of vision and finished the potion while Draco nursed his hair. They divided the potion, quickly gulped it down, and nearly choked on the foul aftertaste. After Snape dismissed the class, Harry called after Draco, "I've got Quidditch practiced tomorrow morning, so we'll meet in the Great Hall after lunch to discuss the effects of the potion, alright?"
Draco sneered and replied, "What makes you think you can order *me* around? We'll meet in the *library* after lunch, where we can look for a book to determine the potion made. Jeez, Potter, hasn't the Mudblood taught you anything about research?" With that, Draco sauntered off toward the Slytherin common room.
Harry stared after him for a moment, then shook his head and went off to find Hermione and Ron.
***
The next morning, a piercing scream ripped through the castle.
***
Authors' Notes: Heh, a bit of a cliffie... Don't worry if you didn't understand some references made early on in the fic. All will be explained in due time. Please review! We love reviews... and we work much faster knowing that someone out there is waiting for an update!
Authors' Notes: This is a collaborative effort between the Barn and Oompa (take a minute-or several- to go read her other works...). It may take us a while to put out a new chapter, but hopefully they'll be worth the wait. This first chapter is relatively short, as we're still working out the plot, but we hope you like it!
***
Draco Malfoy despised giggles.
He hated giggling girls so much that he often sent those giggling fiends a patented Malfoy I-will-hex-your-lips-off-if-you-don't-stop-that-inane-stupidity glare.
But the one thing he hated even more than a giggling girl was a giggling boy.
Because, through some inexplicable phenomenon that earned him several beatings as a child, Draco was prone to catching the contagious male-giggle. And a Malfoy was not one to giggle. Chuckle, yes, but giggling was not tolerated. Lucius Malfoy would not raise an effeminate heir.
So Draco learned at an early age how to seal his own mouth if ever there was some errant male around that couldn't control his humour. Or if a weak Rictusempra was cast near anything with a penis (a strong Rictusempra produced fits of laughter, which was all right with the Malfoys. But no giggling, ever).
But more than anything, Draco Malfoy hated Harry Potter.
At the moment, it wasn't because the Boy Who Lived was a stupid Scarfaced Pottyhead (Draco's inner 11-year-old was still smarting from that "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks" comment from so long ago)- and it wasn't for all those other reasons that had accumulated throughout their years at Hogwarts.
No, Draco hated Harry Potter for just one reason at the moment: his hair.
His messy, unkempt hair. His hair that refused to lay flat. His hair that could only be tamed by the slobber of Fang, the boarhound. And the nice, clean, meticulous Draco Malfoy did NOT go near enough Hagrid's hut to see that dog.
***
It had all started innocently enough. Professor Snape had been in a particularly foul mood all week, and the culmination of that brooding had been the partnering of a Malfoy and a Potter during Friday's Potions class.
"Listen up!" Snape barked. "This potion isn't particularly tricky, so I expect everyone"- here he glared at Neville Longbottom- "to manage a decent draft. Of course, it's also easy enough to convert to a poison, should one make too many careless mistakes,"- here Neville audibly gulped- "so proceed with caution. The effects of a properly-prepared potion will manifest within the next 24-hours and will last throughout the weekend. I expect an 13-inch parchment on what you've learned about this particular potion and your own experiences with it on Monday. Points WILL be taken off for extremes in length, whether too short or too long, so keep the essay concise and precise. You may begin."
Draco and Harry eyed each other warily as they approached their lab table. They fell into a silent working pattern: Harry sliced the boomslang skin while Draco added the powdered bicorn horn, etc. It seemed that neither one of them felt daring enough to start insulting the other; this was probably true for Harry, but Draco was really too worried about Neville Longbottom to pay much attention to Harry. The bumbling Gryffindor had been prone to fits of giggling since botching a batch of the Liquid Cachinnus at the end of their 5th year, and the last thing Draco wanted to was to start giggling while working with Harry blasted Potter.
All work seemed to be going along rather smoothly. Maybe too smoothly, for just a few minutes later, Seamus Finnegan managed to blow up his and Millicent Bulstrode's work. Various projectiles rifled through the air, and an errant spoon hit Draco in the head. Draco's hands immediately flew to his perfectly sculpted hair and nearly shrieked when he felt the "damage" the utensil had caused. As he hurried to fix it, Harry watched all this in amusement, running a hand through his own black mop. When he snickered, Draco stopped and snarled, "So Potter, you think this is funny? Just because your own personal grooming habits are lacking doesn't mean that everyone has to follow the path of the great Scarface."
Just as Harry was about to retort, Snape's voice intervened, "Mr. Potter, if you would kindly get back to your work, maybe we can salvage the rest of the hour in peace? Five points from Gryffindor... Mr. Finnegan, clean up that mess. You may go to the Infirmary after your workspace is spotless, and I suggest you don't scratch that..."
Harry rolled his eyes out of Snape's line of vision and finished the potion while Draco nursed his hair. They divided the potion, quickly gulped it down, and nearly choked on the foul aftertaste. After Snape dismissed the class, Harry called after Draco, "I've got Quidditch practiced tomorrow morning, so we'll meet in the Great Hall after lunch to discuss the effects of the potion, alright?"
Draco sneered and replied, "What makes you think you can order *me* around? We'll meet in the *library* after lunch, where we can look for a book to determine the potion made. Jeez, Potter, hasn't the Mudblood taught you anything about research?" With that, Draco sauntered off toward the Slytherin common room.
Harry stared after him for a moment, then shook his head and went off to find Hermione and Ron.
***
The next morning, a piercing scream ripped through the castle.
***
Authors' Notes: Heh, a bit of a cliffie... Don't worry if you didn't understand some references made early on in the fic. All will be explained in due time. Please review! We love reviews... and we work much faster knowing that someone out there is waiting for an update!