Harry slipped off his invisibility cloak, a soft light billowing forth from his wand thanks to the Lumos spell he had cast earlier. He was somewhere on the third floor in an abandoned hallway. It was immediately apparent that the hall had long ago fallen into disuse; the walls were crumbling, covered with cobwebs, and the few paintings left adorning them lay in shambles, their paint peeling off in long strips.
He had received a mysterious note, the words having been created with some spell that prevented him from discerning who's handwriting it was. It told him to come to the third floor hallway that night alone. He must have been crazy for actually coming up there.
"Can't believe you actually decided to show up, Potter."
Harry whirled around to see Draco standing before him in the hallway.
"I'm going to finally show you that I am truly the most metal of all Slytherins," he announced, pulling out his wand. He began to perform his mating dance and did a little jig around the gloomy passage. It made him look like a three-legged, sun-hat-wearing duck on ice, but with a bill full of horrifying humanoid teeth.
Harry became entranced by the blond student's swaying; the horrible, off-beat movements were simply hypnotizing.
"Is that a wand in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" Draco asked.
Harry looked down and noted that yes, he had indeed just placed his wand into his cloak pocket.
Draco waved his wand in the air and shouted, "Vestes Eradico!"
Harry watched on in amazement. Was it possible that Draco somehow had access to the forbidden art of the garment-removing spell?
A vivid green light shot out from the end of his wand and it struck Harry. He found himself suddenly feeling the chilly air of the forlorn hallway as his robes were whisked away without a trace by the mysterious charm.
Harry agreed that it was indeed, quite a metal thing, but it was not the most metal thing. He was still not convinced by this paltry display.
With one strong whip of his hands, Draco threw down his robes, revealing his boxers. They were a bright orange color and were emblazoned with a myriad of minute decals, which upon closer inspection, Harry noted were actually what appeared to be crossbones topped with skulls that were kitten-shaped, complete with tiny cartoonish ears and little speech balloons that contained the phrase meow. They were definitely not the sort of thing the most metal Slytherin should have been donning.
Noticing that Harry's face had scrunched up in a state of mildly disgusted confusion, Draco looked down to behold his own questionable choice of undergarments. He immediately took on a horrified expression, as if seeing the pumpkin-flavored, cat skull-adorned pants for the very first time.
"How the bloody hell did these get here!?" he exclaimed, violently tearing them away with another swift movement of his arm. Underneath them had been revealed a proper set of plain black boxers.
Harry nodded his approval of these new and exciting pants. They were truly a choice of wear more befitting of the most metal Slytherin. Draco yanked them away to reveal his glorious donger to the wizarding world.
"So, Potter, can you understand Parseltongue?" he grinned wangstfully.
Harry audibly gasped in amazement as he beheld Draco's spitting crotch-cobra. It was a literal snake, which from its brilliantly contrasting yellow on black colouration, Harry recognized instantly to be a Naja samarensis, truly the most metal of the cobras.
Draco made his cockobra slither over through the air to engulf Harry's meat-made cylindrical appendage within its gaping fang-filled food hole.
Harry could hear the penile snake's whispering muffled hiss. "Kill meeeeeeeeeee..." it groaned as it was made to take the schlong into its urethroat. It was like a hotdog being shoved inside an electrical socket.
Draco began ululating and foaming at the mouth like a rabid hog coerced into singing opera even though it had called in sick that day, its horned-hat topped golden locks flowing gently in the breeze, the sensual stage lighting accentuating its curly-cone-tipped breasts as they swayed hypnotically, much to the confusion and disdain of the audience, furiously questioning why they were being forced to watch a rabid clothed pig perform opera.
Suddenly, a set of heavy footsteps could be heard stomping down the hallway. Harry froze and halted his actions, looking up to see who or what it was, but Draco seemed to not notice the clamour. In the dim lighting of the dank and gloomy hallway Harry could just barely make out what appeared to be a figure making its way towards them. It groaned loudly as if in pain, its hand on its head.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!?"
It was...Dumbledore!
Harry leapt back from Draco in confusion, but the lemon-flavored Slytherin's crotch-cobra held fast to Harry's mammalian semen-injector that was boring, non-serpentine, and totally not even the slightest bit metal.
The cobra began to screech in a horrifying tone, but whether it was in pain or pleasure, Harry could not tell, for it was a fucking dick-snake and that shit was weird enough as it is. He wasn't even going to attempt to psycho-analyze that shit.
It began to vomit up what Harry could only assume was its deep-fried spicy man mayonnaise all over the angered, out-of-character Dumbledore as the ancient wizard approached the pair.
The hot mayonnaise caused the Dumbledore apparition to burn in agony upon it making contact with his skin. It hissed and screeched in a way that sounded to be to the tune of the Jeopardy! waiting music. Then Harry instantly knew who it was.
The phantasmal Dumbledore face melted away to reveal none other than the ghastly, nose-job-gone-wrong visage of Voldemort himself. He reached a long, crooked hand out towards Harry as he liquified, as if he were trying to claw the boy's face off, but to no avail.
"Die monster! You don't belong in this world!" Harry bellowed as he threw the still-twitching body of Draco towards the beast with an intense vigour he knew not that he held.
The Slytherin slid right through the melting ooze of Voldemort, splattering him across the moldering hallway as he slid across the now-slippery floor.
Harry watched in triumphant pride as the most metal Slytherin disappeared into the darkness of the castle passageways, his confused monotone screech slowly growing fainter as it perfectly demonstrated the Doppler effect to him.
He returned to class a hero that day.
It is said that even to this day, if one goes to the quiet, abandoned halls of the third floor and truly believes, that they can still hear the distant screeches of he who was once the most metal Slytherin sliding about the labyrinthine halls upon the remains of the Dark Lord.
And if one happens to be lucky, they may even catch of glimpse of it within its natural habitat, and marvel upon its glory knowing that traces of beauty can still be found even within the darkest of places.