Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: My attempt at humour. Just tell me what you think, honestly.
Draco Malfoy sat perched on his bed; book in one hand, large tube of hair gel in the other. It was a particular type, of course, as to "nourish and ravish your hair in a wonderful blend of scents and organic materials." It had been recommended by various wizarding beauty magazines all over the world, and was renowned for the wonders it could do. Not that Draco had a subscription to any beauty magazine. Or a number of them.
He was trying to decide which was more pressing: A rather interesting novel involving various battles and deaths and bloody things, or his perfectly styled hair, which hadn't been styled in hours. In the end, beauty won over intelligence.
He placed the book gently on the bed, and tip-toed over to the door. Peering out, he checked that no one was in the vicinity, and cast a simple locking charm. Then he walked to the far side of the room, and, with a great flourish, opened his 'secret cupboard,' which was renowned and wondered about by all Slytherins. He tugged a string that was hanging from the top of the cupboard, and instantly a large vanity rose up and out of the cupboard. He peered around once more, though it was perfectly safe, and flicked a switch.
Glitter danced through the lights that were situated around a large mirror. The frame was a coral pink, and the surface was sea foam green. There was a thin strip of lace around the vanity and the small banana yellow stool that came with it. The lace, of course, was black. He was a Slytherin, after all.
It was on the surface of the rather large vanity that three large tubs of cologne sat. There were a handful of smaller, elegant bottles with designer labels on them. (In truth, he had bought the rather large tubs of cologne at the wizard equivalent of Cosco, Ocgle. The labels were merely for show, but you probably assumed as much.) There were also several old tubes of hair gel, some which had various blonde properties to them, so the shade of his hair changed slightly. This is simply the wizard equivalent of highlights.
There were also a few different brands that made his hair straighter than it already was, though many had thought it an impossible feat. There were some that made it slightly curly, but only slightly. He couldn't go around looking like the mudblood, after all.
And there were various male makeup collections in small purses. Pardon me, small bags. (The fact that they had floral patterns on them means absolutely nothing, I assure you.) The male makeup generally has some very masculine colours of blush, and some dark eyeliner colours. In the spirit of Slytherin, there were a few silver and deep forest green shades in the collection as well.
Draco Malfoy, if questioned, will deny everything. Just so you know.
At the precise moment that Draco was reaching for a particularly nice shade of green, a shrill voice whined out at him.
"Pardon me, Draco dearest, but I've come to retrieve my hair clip," said Pansy Parkinson as she filed her nails, the trademark smirk of the Slytherins playing around her lips.
Draco froze. Hastily, he through his body in front of the vanity, managing to flick off the switch at the same time. His room fell into deep, gloomy shadows once again.
"Pansy," he began, through gritted teeth, but was quickly interrupted.
"Oh, don't act like you have a hippogriff's beak up your ass, Draco. I've known all along what you keep in that cupboard. Truthfully, it's even better than what the rumours say. Now, as for that hair clip…."
Draco sat stuttering, mouth open, a tube of gel making a large stain on his back. "I don't know what hair clip you're talking about, Pansy." He replied once he'd finally gained a little composure.
"Right, and Hagrid favours me over Lightning Boy," she replied, rolling her eyes while still filing her nails. Draco took a brief moment to reflect on the phenomenon that is multi-tasking before replying.
"I have no idea which hair clip you're talking about," he said in harsh whisper, as he had heard people just outside the door.
Pansy, however, had a completely different idea. "Actually, Draco dearest," she said loudly, taking the time to look up from her nails, "I think you do. The purple and pink shiny one, with the pearl sparkles scattered through it. It matches your va-" She began, but was cut off by Draco's hand over her mouth.
It was far too late. Outside, there were titters of laughter and heated whispers. Draco walked to the door, fists clenched at his side. "I haven't the foggiest idea what she's talking about!" He yelled to the Slytherins outside. Then he turned to Pansy, who was, surprisingly, filing her nails. "I'll kill you."
"I still need my hair clip," she replied evenly. He stalked over to the vanity, running a hand through his rather dry hair angrily, and shoved it back into the cupboard.
"You'll pay, Pansy."
"Hair clip, Draco, hair clip." And with that, he stalked out of the room angrily.
Blaise Zambini and Millicent Bulstrode sat in the two largest, most comfortable chairs in the Slytherin common room. Millicent was laughing silently, and Blaise was stroking the invisible cat on his lap in a rather unnerving way.
"Millicent, do you realize what we have here?" He asked, keeping his eyes straight ahead.
Millicent stopped her laughter for a moment to reply. "We have," she said, gasping for breath, "Enough blackmail information to last us a lifetime."
"Millicent. There's so much more. Think of the utter humiliation…."
"Blaise, get a grip. It's funny, and it can be used against him, but we don't need to go overboard."
"Yes, we do."
"Why?" She asked, and then realization dawned on her. "So you can have the vanity!"
Blaise looked up from his fake cat. "Are you bloody daft woman?" He said loudly, but at the very thought of Blaise in makeup she had begun laughing again. "It's so I can have…..The Chair," he said, in a very theatrical voice.
Millicent gasped. So did many other eavesdropping Slytherins. "The-The, The Chair?" Millicent choked out.
Blaise nodded solemnly. "The Chair, Millicent, The Chair." And with that he turned his full attention to stroking the invisible cat on his lap and laughing maniacally. The Slytherins didn't even make a move to back away slowly. They were used to that sort of behavior, and were especially used to it from Blaise.
The Slytherin house worked in a political fashion. It was deceitful and backstabbing, and one person was always in control. Draco Malfoy was feared the most; therefore he was in control most often. (For a while, Pansy had been in control, because she had blackmailed everyone. But soon they gathered the same type of information on her, and her reign ended quite quickly.)
The Slytherins knew Blaise wanted to be in power; however, Blaise was rather mad, and frail. He'd been trying for years to overthrow Malfoy, but alas, it was all in vain. The way he saw it, this was his chance.
Draco Malfoy sat hunched at the top of the stairs, a sinking feeling deep in his stomach. Blaise's laughter echoed off the cold dungeon walls. Draco scurried to the washroom to find some antacids.
Severus Snape was brewing a potion. In most cases, the potions master brewing a potion wouldn't really matter. But in this particular story, it's fairly important. The particularly scary thing about this potion wasn't actually the potion. Or the ingredients. No, it was the look on Snape's face.
After I've said this, I imagine you are picturing a rather menacing look on the rather menacing face. Instead, it's quite the opposite, which is the rather terrifying part.
Severus Snape is brewing a potion whilst staring dreamily off into space. Take a moment to ponder this.
Right, now you can stop crying in utter terror.
A portions book lay open at his elbows, which were propped up on the desk to support his sappy head. Oh, for Merlin's sake, stop the crying already! Breath in, breath out, get used to it. Wonderful, now we'll continue.
The book wasn't old, as you would expect. Nor was it large. It was a small book covered in red velvet with delicate writing. It was a book of love potions.
Wait for it, wait for it….
Please stop crying?
Anyways, many students curiously looked in, but the couldn't quite see Snape's face, and therefore just assumed their esteemed potions professor was brewing a nasty potion to do away with little Gryffindor first years. Sadly, they were quite far from the real reason.
The only thing that did change the Professor's expression was when a certain eccentric Professor walked by his door. And then it only became perhaps more dreamy than it had been. And I didn't think it was possible….
Draco Malfoy ran down the stairs and through the common room, ignoring the comments that were shot his way. Pansy Parkinson was hot on his heels. She was shouting in a rather high pitched voice, something about vanity and a sparkly hair clip. Draco was running in terror, and most people could see why.
He ran out through the portrait hole, and through the dungeons. Pansy was hot on his heels, and he cringed with every word she said.
"Return the bloody hair clip, Draco, and we can erase their memories and everything!"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Pansy!" He replied hastily as he stuffed a rather pink, funny looking object into his robes.
"Yes you do, you bloody git! I saw you take it from the vanity, and then run off with it when you saw me coming!" But she stopped yelling, and running, because she had Draco cornered at the door to the Potions Master's private chambers. "Got you, so give it, Draco."
"I don't know what you're talking about!" He said, slipping through the door. Pansy took a moment to stare in shock before replying and following.
"Then why are you still running!"
She burst in to the room just in time to see Draco run headfirst into a rather odd looking Snape, and then barrel over a large cauldron of pink liquid. Which he flipped over, loosing the hair clip to the cauldron in the process.
"AHA!" Shouted Pansy, running forward and dipping her hand into the misting liquid, ignoring Snape's cries of anguish at her actions. Snape sat on the floor, staring at Pansy with shock on his face.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"
Pansy looked down at Snape, hand still soaking in the odd mixture. "I'm finding my hair clip. You see, Professor, Draco borrowed it, but really he stole it, though for what I don't know," and at this, she cast Draco a rather suspicious glance. "And then I followed him here, and when he fell over it, the hair clip fell out into the potion."
Draco looked up. "Good God, woman, why would I want a hair clip?"
"Why would you have a pink vanity?" Pansy shot back defiantly, still fishing in the cauldron.
"It's a coral pink!" Draco said, too angry to notice what he'd admitted to. He jumped up, standing on the other side of the cauldron. He shot his hand in to the potion, feeling around for the clip. "And besides, there is no-" He was about to assure her there was no hair clip, and she was simply a delusional teenage girl, when Pansy triumphantly pulled out the hair clip, sparkly and pink and purple, as per her previous description.
"So?" said Draco, not missing a beat. "Maybe that's just part of his potion."
"Why would Snape have a hairclip in a potion?"
"Why would Snape have a pink potion?"
"Are you sure it's not coral pink?" Pansy said, smirking at him. But then she turned to Professor Snape. "Professor, why is your potion pink? And why," she began, catching sight of the small potions book, "Are you making a lov-" But Pansy was cut off as Draco gave a fierce growl, and tipped the cauldron over onto her.
She was drenched in a thick, pink, sticky liquid. (Much like Pepto-Bismol, for those of you who know what that is.) She gave a high-pitched squeal, as the force of the shock and the potion pitched her over backwards. Soon, she was sitting in a puddle out in the hallway as many curious students gathered around. Even Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Gryffindors showed up, most of them to laugh at Pansy.
Snape looked on in anguish. Thinking quickly, he grabbed a small vial off his desk and salvaged a little of the liquid, and then scurried off to his bedroom to cry. Draco stared after him in shock, but thought quickly enough to grab the potions book. Suddenly, Hannah Abbot was at his side, helping him up, and asking him a multitude of questions.
Hannah Abbot was the head girl, and a rather good one at that. She managed to clear up the mess, in a short amount of time. Sending the hordes of people away from the scene, she asked a fellow Hufflepuff to help Pansy clean up. Unfortunately, she couldn't get the liquid to disappear. She tried every spell she knew, but nothing worked. What's more, it was spreading. Sighing, she seated Draco calmly outside the room, and told him to stay there while she went to go get the other Professors.
Draco nodded grimly, intent on reading the potion.
"The Easiest Way To Make Someone Love You Is Through A Potion," it read, "And This Is The Easiest Potion to Make Someone Love You…" It continued on, listing the ingredients and instructions. Surprisingly, a pink-purple sparkly hair clip was not on list. Draco snorted with laughter. And then it occurred to him. Professor Snape had been making a love potion.
When Hannah Abbot returned, the usually tough, sarcastic, condescending Draco Malfoy that she knew was a blubbering mass of tears. She offered her shoulder to cry on, which he took quite willingly. She had the robes burned afterwards. He was, after all, a Slytherin.
A/N: That was crap, but you can review anyways.