Slashy Chaos
By Lici-san and Kay
Disclaimer: Well, we DO own Draco sometimes, when we rent him, but that's only on occassion. Really, we don't own anything. Except the apron. And we want the eggs. But sadly, we cannot have them.
Author's Notes: Insane, slashy, great humor that we made up on sugur rushes walking to get MORE sugur at Jay's. ^_^;;; Scary, ne? Lots of slash. Lots of funny apron and eggs jokes. Don't let the bad humor get to ya- it was still fun to write! I needed a break from angst in Anime...
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It was a normal day in the Potter-Malfoy household...
The sun was shining on the small cozy house, the clouds were plentiful, and the smell of delicious, wonderful breakfast wafed from the kitchen door. Harry stretched out lazily on the coach, feeling more at home than he ever had in his life. What could be more perfect than this? A nice house, a well paying job, (no Voldemort), AND a lovely little housewife-
"I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE, DAMN IT!!!!"
... well, maybe not. Harry groaned, sinking further into the couch in hopes of hiding.
Stomping in from the kitchen, silver blonde hair in disray, Draco glared viciously at his husband. This death glare effect was basically ruined by the fact that he was wearing a lacey pink apron, and had flour on the tip of his nose.
"What is it, honey?" Harry mumbled.
Draco twitched. Then grabbed folds of his lovely housewife apron, tugged at it angrily, and screamed, "I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!!!!! You be the bloody housewife! I'm not wearing this blasted, *censored* apron anymore! I'm-"
"Draaaco..." Harry pouted. "But you look so cute in it! Especially when you're screaming at me, by the way..."
Narrowing his gray eyes, Draco ripped off the rest of the apron abomination. "Never. You try doing this, you-"
"Hello everyone!" Ron called, cheerfully coming through the doorway. (Though it was locked, and we have no idea how he got in this time.) The redhead quickly surveyed the scene; one Draco Malfoy waving a pink apron around and screaming about dominating, and one incredibly... well, sexy Harry Potter laying on the couch, looking like he needed a little, ah, warmth.
Which, naturally, Ron felt he could provide.
"Harry..." The scarred boy looked up at him curiously.
"Ron...?"
A look was shared. A very intense look. Not just any funny look, but a really, really big "X-Rated Playboy Channel 834" look. Very steamy- the temperature rose to at least three hundred, really. (No, really!)
So, in the order of how things go, Ron and Harry promptly jumped each other and started making out frantically on the couch.
Draco twitched.
"I can't believe you're cheating on me!" he screamed, (looking very cute while doing so.) "You filthy, horrible-" Then he noticed, to his horror, that smoke was billowing from the kitchen.
"THE EGGS ARE BURNING!"
Ron and Harry paused for half a moment in time to see a very frantic Draco shoving his apron on and running back into the kitchen, wailing.
"THE EGGS ARE BURNING!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"
They looked at each other, shrugged, gave the "X-Rated Playboy Channel 834" look again, and returned to snogging.
In the kitchen, Draco grabbed the egg pan, waving the smoke off, and gave a cry of *despair*. "My eggs are BURNT!" Feeling the urge to have a good, long cry over the burnt things in the pan, he grabbed it and ran out the kitchen again.
"HAAAAARRY! The eggs are burnt! The eggs are BURNT!" he sobbed. But... alas... Harry was quite busy making merry with Sir Ron at the moment, and was paying absolutely no attention to him.
Draco's lip trembled. Then he decided to hell with it, and ran around in the background of the house screaming, "THE EGGS ARE BURNT! THE EGGS ARE BURNT!" Continually. For about twenty minutes. Looking very, very cute.
*SMACK*
He tripped. Over nothing, actually, but he tripped. The screaming stopped for a moment.
Harry and Ron continued making out passionatly.
"Oh... Ron... my big, redheaded sexy love monkey..."
Ron's eyes sparkled. "Oh... Harry... my emerald eyed, scar faced fluffy bunny..."
They sparkled at each other, hearts floating in midair, and continued making out. (I feel sorry for the couch.)
Behind them, Draco got up, took a few deep breaths, and continued running around in the background screaming his head off about the burnt eggs.
This chaos was naturally still going on when Oliver Wood walked in the door, looking very hot indeed with his green flashy sweater, and cute hair. (All females- and males- immeadiatly swoon. Go on, we won't tell!)
The poor Quiddich captain took one look at Ron and Harry, before looking away quickly, turning bright red. "Wow... I didn't think THAT was possible..."
"Lots of practice!" Ron hollared.
"Riiiight..." Oliver looked around once more, before noticing Draco- who had given up on screaming and fallen to the floor crying over his pan of burnt eggs.
It was love at first sight. (Or... well, just now, whatever.) Draco, looking beautiful with his singed apron all burnt at the edges, tears streaking down his preeetty face, and wide eyes... well, Oliver never stood a chance. (Should we call him Wood? No? Yes?) He fell in love with the burnt eggs vixen of love.
"Draco... what's the matter?" he gasped, concerned for the welfare of his true love. (And wondering how he could get everything but the apron off in the next five minutes.)
Draco looked up, tear filled eyes growing wide at the sight of the Quidditch captain- and his huge sex appeal that stunned millions when the movie came out. (You KNOW you wanted him. The accent, my man! The acceeeent! How could it NOT turn you on?! You are... inhuman... you cad.) He sniffed then, and looked down sadly at his burnt eggs.
"My eggs... they're burnt..."
Oliver's eyes widened further, and his accent was deliciously thick when he exclaimed, "But... I *love* burnt eggs!"
There was silence. (Except for Harry and Ron's, um, noises.)
Draco looked up again, even more wide eyed. (All bow down before the eyes, damn you.) "You... you do?"
Oliver nodded in lovestruck awe. "Yeah... they're the greatest! I want to eat them all the time, but no one knows how to burn them..."
"Oh... well... I can burn eggs..." Draco whispered, blushing. (Preetty!)
They exchanged a look. Not just any look, but one really hot steamy look. Like... "Eggs Burning Apron's Adorable Let's Have Passionate Kinky Food Sesk" look. Wow... (All envy Draco for having Wood.)
"Oliver..." Sparkly eyes started.
"Draco..." Even more sparkles. They stared adoringly at each other.
"Would you... like some burnt eggs?" Draco asked shyly.
"Yes..." Oliver beamed happily. Violins start playing romantically in the background, by some strange guy who just walked in the front door in a black mask and tuxedo. (We don't know how he got in- the door was still locked. How are they doing this???)
Well, anyway. The violinist played sweetly in the background as the two lovestruck guys ate burnt eggs. (The other two were still gettin' jiggy wit it on the couch.)
"Ron- I love you! I've always loved you!"
"Oh, Harry, it was only you! Only you! Except maybe for Dean, but that was only once!"
"Oh, Ron..." (More sparkly eyes go.)
As the two new couples continued their loving staring, Hermoine walked in the door. (Again- we have no idea how, as it was locked. We need a locksmith. Really.) Taking a quick, wide eyed look at everything going on, and then checking out the Masked Violinist, she was pretty speechless.
Sad she missed out on the chance with any of the guys now in love with anohter, she started hitting on the Masked Violinist. (Hee hee.) Who was actually trying to edge away from her, resisting the urge to smack her with his violin, but was a little to professional to do that. (That, and he didn't want to ruin his violin.)
Just then, Fred and George come in. (Friggin' evil locks! ARGH!)
"Hey, guys! We're here, where's the par-tay!" Fred called cheerfully, before realizing the chaos that was going on. Ron and Harry were doing suspicious things on the couch, that might be illegal, and Draco and Oliver were eating burnt eggs in the corner and giving each other sparkly eyes. (That might also be illegal.)
"Wow..." George commented. "Good thing that, I, George, was here!"
Fred paused. "... I thought I was George?"
"No, you're Fred. Aren't you?"
"No, I think I'm... wait, maybe I am Fred!" the twin cried out, confused.
"Well, you're not Fred. Or maybe you are George, or Fred. Hey, maybe... you're Percy!"
The twin gasped. "Maybe you're not George at all! Maybe I'm George! Or maybe you're Fred, and I'm Ron. Or... is that right?" (Ron protested this theory by making a loud sound that sounded like, "UNGH!")
"So who's Gred?"
"Forge?"
"What?" The two looked at each other confused.
Hermoine walked up to them, sighing, and pointed to each. "You're Hansel. You're Gretal."
"But..." They looked sadly at each other. "We don't have any bread!"
"I have some bread." She smiled brightly, blinding them. "I'll sell it to you for a hundred pounds or so."
"Okay!" So they did. And they had lots of bread, and stood there in the doorway. They really weren't sure what to DO with the bread...
There was a long pause. Then- "Let's go blow up stuff!"
The Masked Violinist shot a curious look at the two redheaded twins eagerly gathering explosive stuff. His eyes lit up. "Oooohhh..."
Hermoine was saying, "So I think we can get married maybe in September, that is, if you're willing to wai-"
"Gotta go blow up stuff, bye!" The Masked Violinist ran off to the twins, "Waaiiit for meeeee!" The twins looked back at him in confusion.
"Yes?"
The Masked Violinist begged with them, "Oh great twins of explosive tendancies... I want to help you blow up stuff! Take me with you, and I'll marry you both!"
The twins thought about this. Fred or George (they still thought one of them might be Elton John) decided, "Sure, why not?"
So the Masked Violinist ripped off his mask to reveal- SEAMUS! Whee!
So Seamus, Fred, and George ran off to implode the lower half of London. (Three weeks later, some area down in Surrey exploded, but no one was hurt, except for they found about three tuffs of red hair and someone's violin bow. Someone in the north yelled, "I'm BALD" right about then.)
Meanwhile, Oliver decided to elope with Draco and take him home so they could eat burnt eggs for the rest of their happily married lives. (Draco got to take his apron collection- the world screamed in joy.)
Ron and Harry... um... continued making out on the couch. Frequently.
In increased volume, to the neighbor's dismay.
(We still believe illegal activities may be preformed, so please do not attempt to aproach them or you could be arrested.)
The three headed dog named Fluffy, who did NOT appear in this story sadly, was married happily to the Troll for a nice long term of three hundred years.
Hermoine... well, she sold bread.
And married Ginny, although that's a totally different story involving ketchup.
The end. Really.
... what are you waiting for? More? Are you INSANE?!
... all your Draco are belong to us.
^_^
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THE END: Do not hit us with bricks. You can flame, but do not hit us with bricks. (Two ton cars are fine, though.) ::giggles:: Sorry, but we HAD to upload this... thanks for taking the time to read!
... I blame lots of sugur and inside jokes. Forgive me. Also made on the idea that Draco looks *adorable* when he's screaming.
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