Warnings: I attempt to write humor (head for the hills, hide the children). Draco Malfoy is not completely evil and doesn't spout any of that pureblood crap (I don't like it so I don't write it). Not slash necessarily, but Harry and Draco aren't necessarily on terrible terms either. Probably a lot of out-of-character-ness. Also, first attempt at HP fan fiction. Small amount of language.
Disclaimer: if I owned Harry Potter a) wouldn't have been surprised by the deaths in books 4-7, b) would be filthy stinkin rich, c) would've had the movies stay closer to the books, and d) wouldn't be writing this.
Synopsis: During a free period, Harry, Ron and Hermione encounter Draco doing (or not doing) something odd.
A piece of parchment hung next to the stairwell leading up to Professor Trelawney's classroom. A hasty scrawled message informed Ron and Harry that class would regretfully (as if) be cancelled for the afternoon. Hermione had accompanied them to the class before she returned to the common room to finish an essay for the oh-so-popular class of Professor Binns. Harry quickly glanced around, as if searching for a camera crew to pop out and declare that he's just been Punk'd. He really couldn't believe his good luck: Harry wasn't necessarily in the mood for Professor Trelawney to mutter some sort of vision of his death.
"Well, what are you two waiting for?" Hermione snapped finally. "Are you going to gawk at the parchment all day or head back to the common room?"
"We have a free period," Ron said, seemingly just realizing what the parchment claimed.
"Yes, I know that, I was here to read it myself, thank you," Hermione replied, giving Ron a firm push towards the Gryffindor common room. Harry followed after his friends, a small smile forming on his face. They were idly chatting away about something or another but when they turned the corner, Ron's foot caught on something. His arms flailed out wildly before he completely toppled over, dropping his books in the process. Hermione gave a strangled gasp which sounded suspiciously like a laugh. Harry tried desperately to immobilize his face for Ron's benefit. Ron floundered around on the ground, looking for what he fell over. When he found it, his mouth dropped, before he snapped it shut and glared dangerously. Hermione and Harry followed his gaze and all of them stared incredulously.
Draco Malfoy was sitting with his back against the wall, his arms folded firmly across his chest. His eyes were partially lowered, not even bothering to look at Ron, but stared blankly at the wall behind him.
"What the bloody hell is your problem?" Ron yelled. "You did that on purpose didn't you? Just decided to trip me up for a laugh, huh?"
"Umm, Ron," Hermione said, edging closer to Malfoy. She waved her hand in front of Malfoy's eyes. "I don't think anyone's home." Both Harry and Ron stared at Hermione.
"Maybe someone hexed the git and left his body as a warning to all Slytherins?" Ron asked hopefully.
"That's doubtful."
"Maybe he's tricking us?" Harry suggested.
"Possibly."
"Well, let's find out," Ron said, danger creeping into his voice. He moved forward and kicked the bottom of Malfoy's shoes. Nothing. Ron began making rather rude faces. Still nothing. Ron just pulled out his wand and was about to hex him when Harry cleared his throat.
"Perhaps I could try." Ron shrugged and moved away from Malfoy. Harry began to poke Malfoy. Poke, nothing. Poke, nothing. Harry continued on for a couple of minutes before resorting to the most Muggle thing he could think of.
"Your mamma is so fat. . ." Hermione and Ron couldn't control their laughter. Harry continued with similar jokes. After about the fifth one, he thought he saw a vein twitch under Malfoy's right eyebrow. He opened his mouth for another one, when Blaise Zabini turned the corner crashing into Hermione. His mouth opened to form some sort of insult, then snapped it shut when he took in the scene. His eyes landed on Malfoy and maneuvered his way over toward him.
"Draco?" He nudged Draco's shoulder.
"He won't move or speak," Hermione said, saving Zabini the trouble.
"Really? Let's test that theory." He paused for a moment, seeming to seize up an enemy. "Draco, your mother is dead sexy and I would like to take her out and-"
"Zabini," Hermione said warningly.
"You're no fun," he shot back, before turning again to Draco. "I bet your mother is a firecat in bed."
"Z-zabini," Hermione stuttered, her cheeks slightly pink. Harry felt his cheeks warm as well. He really didn't want to think about Narcissa Malfoy in bed.
"Fine," Zabini said. "I bet when your parents get it on, they're so loud that they keep you up at night."
"Zabini!" Hermione said, her face completely pink now.
"Oh, my eyes, the images," Ron hollered. "Now I need to claw out my eyes, why would you say something like that?!"
Harry was too preoccupied trying to block the image from his head to say anything. Zabini shrugged nonchalantly.
"I'm just saying things that usually get a rise out of him. It's actually kind of disappointing that he isn't trying to retort in any way." He shrugged again. "I guess it's time for option B." He leaned forward slightly. "Draco," Zabini said in a sickly sweet voice. "You are looking particularly sexy today and I would absolutely love it if we could," Zabini slipped an arm around Malfoy's shoulders "return to our common room so you can put your-"
"Zabini!" Hermione shrieked, her face a dark shade of red. Harry and Ron were looking away feeling only slightly awkward about the entire situation.
"Gryffindors are seriously no fun."
"My mind! The images!" Ron was hysterical in the background. Zabini laughed as Ron was running about looking for something to gauge his eyes out. Harry was slowly and meditatively trying to erase the images. Hermione was still beet red and was slowly trying to resume her natural complexion. Little did they notice Malfoy in the background blink. He yawned audibly causing everyone to stop and watch him. He slowly stood and stretched his arms back over his head, cracking his back in the process. He lazily bent down to pick up a book that was laying next to him, before he began moving off down the hall pausing for a moment to greet Pansy Parkinson. She stopped at the scene before her.
"Pansy," Blaise asked calmly. "What was Draco doing here?" She tilted her head to the side confused. A minute later, realization dawned on her.
"Oh, so you didn't know."
"Know what?" Zabini asked impatiently.
"Draco sleeps with his eyes open."
"HUH?!"
"Yeah, he said something about it dissuading people from interrupting his sleep. Not that it matters though, he'll sleep through a banshee screaming." She shrugged and skipped (if Slytherins can skip) off to her next class leaving behind three very confused Gryffindors and one slightly put off Slytherin.
Unlovely 2, AKA Moony, AKA the author of the story you just read, wants to thank you personally for reading said story. Review if you want. Much love. . .