Draco paced in front of the heavy wooden door, half schemed plots running through his mind as he wondered how he was going to get out of becoming a Death Eater. Why did he -the king of Slytherin, ruler of all that is stylish and devilishly good looking- want to prevent such a fate? Well, for one thing, their 'meetings' were rather lame, and those masks? Horrendous. Draco would rather die then be seen in one of those outdated, unstylish robes. The fact that he'd be wearing a mask while clothed in them was beside the point.

Draco turned to pace back across the hallway for the two-hundred and twenty-seventh time, when a faint tapping against a nearby window distracted him.

"Damn, lost my count." He muttered, turning to look at the offending pane of glass. A school owl glared back at him, fluttering its wings and daring him to let it in. Draco considered cursing it for bothering him, but then it raised a leg, showing him the letter attached to it. He hurried over to let the bug-eyed bird in, snatching the letter from its claws before it could contaminate his pristine robes with its ghastly pink feathers.

'I don't even want to know what Dumbledore's been up to.' He thought, ripping the letter open and removing the bright, sparkling paper from within, the contents were written in the most gaudy orange and lime-green letters Draco had ever seen. He watched as the letters ran screaming across the page, vibrating the paper in his hands.

STUDENT EXCHANGE PROGRAM!

Experience the stunningly snowy country of Canada in a year-long exchange program!

Watch as the 'quaint natives' paint their means of transportation, the precious prancing moose!

Ride to school by dog-sled!

Experience the many joys associated with living and attending school in an igloo!

Participate in our year-long exchange program! It'll feel like a life-time away from home!

Draco stared at the page, wondering what kind of crack the creator must have ingested in order to use those hideous colors. He sighed, crumpling the letter in one hand, annoyed at the waste of time its contents had been. Precious time he should have been using to plot a way to avoid becoming one of the worlds leading masked fashion faux-pas.

He tossed the paper onto the floor, leaving it for the house elves before trudging down the stairs, what the hell was he going to do? He needed more time!

He made it halfway down the stairs before a thought struck. A year-long exchange program? That would give him an entire year to come up with a plan! Turning around, he tripped on his long flowy robes and fell down the stair case, jumping up when he reached the bottom in order to take two large fistfuls of his robe and run back up the stairs, producing a remarkably accurate impression of a girl in a dress while doing it.

Reaching the top, he pointed at the house elf picking up the paper, and screamed "YOU!" the house elf stared back at him in wide-eyed terror. "You!" he repeated for good measure, stalking up to the trembling elf. "I need that paper!" he said, looming over the elf to snatch the paper from its petrified hands before turning to run back to the doors outside his fathers study.

Bursting through them he called out. "Father!" And froze when he saw that the blond haired man was speaking to the pasty faced reptile that was the so called 'Dark Lord' of the Wizarding world.

Draco gulped when the two men turned their cold eyes onto him. Making his voice as civil as possible he said "Father I must go on an exchange trip to Canada right away. It is imperative that I embark on this dangerous mission to the country of caribou and moose so that I may live in a frosty igloo and drink maple syrup. I shall be suffering and withstanding these hardships in order to enhance our brotherhood of darkness. I do this all for Milord so I may increase your glory before joining your wondrous pie contest! I mean cough club."

He prayed that the ending wasn't too much, as the Dark Lord glared at him with glowing red eyes. (Which would have been a wondrous shade of red, if not for the fact he clutched a hot pink tea cup in his clawed hand.)

"Lucius," The dark lord asked, "What have you done to your son? You haven't been indulging in your opium habit again have you? I thought I ordered you to share when you got a new order in."

Lucius cleared his throat. "Of course not your lordship, I have no idea what the boy is going on about."

Both sets of eyes turned to Draco as he began to sweat. "Well you see father….and my lordshit. I mean ship. SHIP! There is a student exchange to Canada this year through the school that I wish to partake in. I feel that I've successfully turned all the Slytherin's to your greatness. I now feel I must further your campaign of flowery darkness to a new country across the sea, in the ice!" Draco ignored the mental image of last years Slytherins hanging around the common room, smoking 'magic' leaves and saying "Dark Lord? Nahhhh." If Voldermort ever found out that his future followers were uninterested stoners who would rather follow pot around rather than his wrinkly ass, Draco would be in for the most flowery howler of his life, courtesy of his wrinkled highness.

Lucius stared at his son in disgust. For months now he had suspected his son did not want to become a Death Eater, but this proved it. There was no way that any one would buy his eccentric rant. The Dark Lord on the other hand…

"My god Draco" He began "You have a devious mind, just like your pappa's! Brilliant! Simply brilliant!!!" Lucius started at Voldemort in horror as he continued his praise of Draco. "You simply MUST send the boy to the cold America!"

"Canada." Draco corrected.

"What?"

"The excange program is to Canada Milord."

"What ever." Voldemort said, fluttering his hands at Draco "In any case, my domain shall soon expand to the cold, dark back ward region of Canada! Dun dun dah!"

"Um. My lord?" Lucius asked, "did you just insert your own theme music?"

"Why yes, my small and slightly pathetic –who will never live up to the greatness of his son- minion of minor terror."

And that was how Draco found him self facing a gathering of Slytherin's, trying to explain to them that the coin he clutched in his sweaty palm was their only chance of escaping his wrinkly lordship, and his out dated and horribly unstylish black robes and tacky masks.

"We had a plan?" Flint asked, raising a 'magic leaf' pipe and taking a drag before exclaiming "Right on Draco! Good luck!"

Draco sighed as he stared at the stoner and wondered how his whole house had managed to keep up there evil persona while being stoned half the time…

Tbc…

A/N:

Pacific: So, after two years, this is our second baby.

Crimson: We may have abandoned Purple Monkeys, but we WILL finish it one day…

Pacific: in the mean time, enjoy our latest progeny.