Title: Insect Collection
Disclaimer: Mine they are not, dream a girl can.
A/N: The title of the story has nothing to do with the plot line...or the characters...or anything in the fic for that matter... I couldn't think of anything else... (Add it up to a Random Bout Of Insanity).
Translations:
blah - The stupid voice in Draco's head.
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The night had fallen around him, and he didn't even notice. He sat with his back against the headboard of his four-poster, staring at the dark green curtains surrounding him. He couldn't sleep, no matter how hard he tried. There were just too many thoughts whirling around in his head. Thoughts of his father, who had been imprisoned in Azkaban five months ago, thoughts of the inevitable upcoming war, thoughts of snogging a scarred, green-eyed, black-haired boy –
What? WHAT? Wait, rewind. Where did that come from? Since when did Draco Malfoy think of snogging ANY boy, let alone someone who, suspiciously, could be described as Harry-holier-than-thou-golden-boy-who-lived-to-save-the-day-and-arch-enemy-of-all-mudblood-haters-Potter?
'Maybe since you figured out you were (A/N: conveniently) gay. Maybe since you've had a crush on Harry Potter? Maybe since you've been thinking about seducing him all summer? Maybe since you've obviously gone nuts?'
Well, he couldn't argue with that. It was impossible NOT to have a crush on Potter. Everyone else did anyway. What with his sexy, just-got-shagged hairstyle, his vibrant, bright green eyes, his perfect golden tan, his adorable 'come hither' smile, his fun personality and all those heroic things he was always doing, nowadays, the population of Hogwarts was one really big 'Harry Potter Fan Club'. It was only fair that Draco be aloud to join as well. Besides, Potter was also extremely famous, which was a huge plus.
So far, Draco couldn't find any of Potter's qualities to be under his standards. Well, except for the fact that he seemed to possess an extreme dislike for all things Slytherin, which included Draco Malfoy himself.
Actually, now that he thought about it 'dislike' was an understatement. Draco was sure that Potter seriously hated (probably loathed) all things Slytherin.
'Well, you should have thought about that before you went and started tormenting him the second you met him!'
Yes, this could present a problem, a very big problem indeed. As it was, Draco would never be able to seduce him. Oh woe was he.
'Oh yes, that's a huge loss. Woe is you, indeed.'
If all Potter thought about while in the presence of a Slytherin, was ripping their heads off and feeding them to the Giant Squid, then Draco might as well give up any hope he might have had.
But, Draco was a Malfoy damn it, and the Malfoys' always get what they want.
Anyway, it wasn't as if he needed Potter to fall in love with him. Just a little romp between the sheets, a one-night stand (if you will), would be more then enough to sedate this dumb infatuation he was suddenly plagued with. Stupid teenage hormones.
Of course, Draco could be slightly naïve sometimes.
Everyone knows that once you get a taste of perfection, you'll always be coming back for seconds.
Especially if 'perfection' is a little more then willing.
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Thursday morning dawned bright and early for Harry Potter, who, having had his shower already, was valiantly (and bravely) trying to wake up his best friend of six years, Ronald Weasley.
Ron, who never got up earlier then 8 o'clock (it was only 7:30 for God's sake), was also valiantly trying to fend off Harry's annoying jabs and stay asleep at the same time. This of course, hardly ever works, and after ten minutes of Ron shouting (Leave me alone, you stupid midget) and Harry laughing gleefully, bouncing on the mattress, Ron had finally opened his bleary eyes and glared at Harry.
The effect though, was lost on the Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Die, because, really, Ron didn't look all that frightening with his hair sticking straight up and still in his rubber ducky pajamas. Harry wouldn't tell him that though.
"Harry, it's only 7:30! I still have a half an hour to sleep. Piss off! For the last damn time!"
Ron, Harry knew, wasn't much of a morning person, and this morning it seemed, was no different then yesterday morning, or the morning before that, or the morning before that - well you get the point.
"But Ron..." Harry whined and put on his best puppy dog eyes. "...we're having blueberry waffles for breakfast today! They're my favorite."
Ron's glare softened a bit.
"So? What's that have to do with me getting by beauty sleep?" He asked, confused.
"Well, I want to get to the Great Hall early, so we can eat as many as we can!" Harry replied enthusiastically.
"Harry, why not go to breakfast at eight o'clock? An hour is plenty of time to eat as many waffles as you want. Classes don't start till nine." Ron asked, still bemused.
"But..." Harry whined again. "...all the Gryffindors' love blueberry waffles too. They'll have them all eaten if we don't get there soon!"
At this statement, Ron looked around the dormitory and noticed that all the sixth year Gryffindor boys had already left their beds.
"Blimey Harry, your right! Hurry! Let's go." Ron jumped out of his bed, (pushing Harry onto the floor in the process) jerked on his shoes, grabbed his wand off his nightstand, and ran out the door, still in his pajamas. Harry, from his position on the floor, watched all this with a smirk.
Three seconds later, Ron ran back in, face flushed, glaring at Harry, who's shoulder's were shaking with suppressed laughter.
"Not a word." Ron said, now putting on his uniform and straightening his hair.
Harry just shook his head, grabbed Ron's arm and lead him down the stairs, through the almost empty common room, out the Fat Lady's portrait, down seven more flights of stairs and through the doors of the Great Hall, where he let go of Ron and started for the Gryffindor table.
The hall was nearly filled; as most people like to get up early on waffle days. Harry saw a flash of blonde hair at the Slytherin table, just as he reached his seat. It seemed as though Malfoy had the same idea as he had.
"Morning Harry...Ron." Hermione said habitually, barely nodding at them. She sat opposite Dean and Seamus, a huge tome propped against the milk jug, alternating between reading and eating. The book was apparently more interesting then the food, because Hermione's fork, which had a large piece on waffle on it, was poised forgotten in her hand, inches from her mouth, dripping syrup down her front.
"Morning Hermione." Ron and Harry coursed together.
They greeted Dean and Seamus much the same way before they loaded their plates with waffles and tons of syrup.
Harry gave a moan of delight when he placed the first bite in his mouth and a first year swooned.
An hour later, when he had finished eating all he could eat, he ran his fingers through the leftover syrup on his empty plate and slowly licked them clean, one by one.
Seamus groaned and his face flushed pink. Harry noticed and winked at him flirtingly, popping his finger out of his mouth. Another first year fainted.
"Harry, stop enticing them with your manly ways." Hermione reproved him, rolling her eyes and sighing. "We've got to get to Potions."
"Yeah mate, we don't want to be late. Snape will take points." Ron said wisely.
"Spoilsports, the lot of you." Harry muttered, though he grabbed his bag and stood up with Hermione and Ron.
While they said their good-byes to the rest of the Gryffindors, Harry's eyes wandered over the hall and they locked with Malfoy's, who was looking at him strangely, his face flushed in much the same way as Seamus's, although, wasn't that a hint of jealousy as well? Stupid Malfoy. Harry glared at him and Malfoy looked away.
As he, Hermione and Ron walked toward the doors, Harry looked back at Seamus, who was still staring, and licked his lips suggestively for good measure.
Seamus flushed again and another first year fainted.
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Snape had just walked by the Gryffindor table on his way out of the Great Hall to prepare for his first class, when he heard the exasperated tones of Hermione Granger, reproving one Harry Potter.
'Potter? Enticing innocent students with his manly ways? Who was she kidding? That dolt couldn't entice a pack of Hellhounds with a ton of T-bone steaks, let alone human beings.' He thought incredulously.
Of course, the Potions Master refused to acknowledge the fact that Potter had caused one first year to swoon and two to faint. Not to mention, Seamus Finnigan and Draco Malfoy were both staring at Potter with uncontrolled expressions of lust…the latter, a bit of jealousy as well. (wink wink)
Before he reached the doors, he heard one of the Weasleys' wisely telling Potter that they'd better get to Potions or they'd be late.
'Doesn't matter if their late or not. I can always deduct points for breathing too loud.' He thought sadistically.
And he detoured to the bathroom before heading to the dungeons.
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They had just walked into the sixth year N.E.W.T Potions classroom, when Hermione, usually the first to sit down, rushed up to Snape's unoccupied desk chair and placed something on it. She turned back to Harry and Ron wearing a smug smile.
"What was that all about Hermy?" Ron asked, bemused.
"You'll find out soon enough. And don't call me Hermy!" She replied while rolling her eyes.
Hermione led them to the second row of seats and they sat. Harry began getting his Potions book out, while the rest of the class filed in.
Snape arrived with a dramatic flourish of his black, work robes, once everyone was seated.
"Don't get too comfortable, I'll be assigning lab partners today." He said with a malicious smirk.
The class groaned.
The N.E.W.T classes were a mix of all houses. Harry, knowing Snape, also knew that he would pair the Gryffindors' with the Slytherins' and the Ravenclaws' with the Hufflepuffs' any chance he got.
And sure enough, just as that thought passed through Harry's beautiful head...
"Thomas and Goyle, front row, first station. Granger and Parkinson, front row, second station. (Parvati) Patil and (Amy) Nott, front row, third station. Crabbe and Weasley, front row, fourth station." Snape waited until the students scrambled to their assigned seats before he started again.
"Longbottom and Bulstrode, second row, first station. Brown and (Mark) Moon, second row, second station. Potter and (it's a boy!) Zabini, second row, third station. Boot and Smith, second row, fourth station." He stopped again, waiting for the students to get to their stations and then...
"Abbott and Goldstein third row, first station. (Padma) Patil and Finch-Fletchley, third row, second station. Finnigan and Malfoy, third row, third station. Macmillan and Corner, third row, fourth station." Snape finished and the students settled into their seats and got their books back out.
"Now, since this Potions class is two hours long, and we only need an hour to complete the potion, Dumbledore thought we could play a little game, so to speak, to pass the time." Snape said with a grimace.
"When I call you're name, you will stand up and tell the class what house you're in, how old you are, you're favorite hobby, you're favorite color and you're pet peeve. We will be going in alphabetical order by last names. So Hannah Abbott, you're first." Hannah flushed pink and stood up.
"I'm in Hufflepuff and I'm almost 16. My favorite hobby is knitting and my favorite color is yellow. I dislike aggressiveness." She said this all very fast and sat back down with a sheepish smile, while behind Harry, Malfoy snickered.
"Okay.." Said Snape, looking down at a piece of parchment in his hand. "...Boot, you're turn."
Snape kept calling people and they each stood and gave their then...
"Granger, you're up." Snape said with a smirk.
Hermione stood up with confidence. "I'm a Gryffindor and I'm almost 17. My favorite hobby is, of course, reading and my favorite color is black. I can't stand it when I'm wrong." She finished and sat down.
"Predictable." Snape muttered. "Longbottom, you're turn."
Neville gave is information, "...Gryffindor, 16, Herbology, orange and bullies."
Ernie was next and then it was Malfoys' turn. Harry turned around in his seat as Malfoy stood and said with a smirk. "I'm a Slytherin and I'm 16. My favorite hobby is hexing first years and being beaut –"
Snape interrupted him, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. "Mr. Malfoy, those do not constitute as hobbies. Proceed."
Malfoy sighed. "Okay, okay. My favorite hobby is writing poetry and my favorite colors are green and black. I hate it when my hair won't lie down right."
He sat down and Harry threw him an incredulous look. Malfoy raised one eyebrow and smirked again. Harry gave a final glare and turned back around to wait his turn.
Finally after Parvati Patil sat down, Snape called with a sneer, "Potter, lets hear it."
Harry stood and said, "I'm a Gryffindor and I'm 16. My favorite hobby is Quidditch and my favorite color is not red, contrary to popular belief. My favorite color, to be exact, is darker then mercury and lighter then silver. I really, really hate Voldemort." He finished and sat back down, ignoring the gasps and stares from his classmates.
"Okay..." Snape look back down at his parchment. "...Smith, your next."
Harry zoned out.
Suddenly (and unexpectedly) someone tugged on his hair. He jerked his head around and came face to face with Malfoy, who was smiling slightly. Harry couldn't help but think how beautiful he looked. Woah, back up that train. Malfoy was not beautiful. Malfoy was ugly, hideous, disgustingly appalling even. (A/N: You keep telling yourself that Harry.)
"Malfoy..." Harry whispered furiously. "...don't pull my hair!"
Malfoy just grinned, winked and went back to staring at the current person who was giving their information.
"Well..." Ron said after he stood up. "...I'm a Gryffindor and I'm almost 17. My favorite hobby is playing chess and my favorite color is blue. I really can't stand spiders." He shuddered and everyone laughed.
After Zabini gave his information, Snape told everyone to quiet down and get they're ingredients and cauldrons out.
They worked for about 15 minutes and Snape, who saw that no one needed assistance, went to his seat and sat down.
And jumped back up a second later, with a girlish scream.
"WHO PUT A TAC ON MY CHAIR?"
Hermione smirked behind her hand.
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A/N: Get ready for the second and last chapter. Remember…this is a TWO-shot, if there is such a thing. Review.