Disclaimer: (quotes Puss in Boots) that's, uh, not mine...but the plot is! and the muffins!
A/N: Just a thank you and a hug and a glomp to everyone who read and/or reviewed!
thanks to soldierx, limeony spiggot, jessahca, and davy for the lovely reviews!
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-Michi y Elizarita
Harry Potter and the 'Magical' Muffin Mischief
Chapter 2: The Fantabulous Scheme of Draco Malfoy
Draco Malfoy sat in his private dormitory room, a room that had been purchased by the Malfoy family when the school was built and had been handed down from Malfoy to Malfoy throughout the years. In its original glory, the room was decorated in deep greens and subtle grays, as well as black satin and many snakelike adornments. Old family portraits of stiff, somber wizards lined the walls. However, Draco had immediately decided to redecorate the room the moment he set foot in it. Now, the old portraits were shoved away in a closet, replaced by pictures of Hello Kitty and the hottest new male wizarding models. The walls had been repainted in lime green and shocking pink. The black satin had remained, but it was now covered in purple, pink, and red glitter hearts. He still kept a few of the snake adornments, but they were now glittery green and iridescent silver. The floor was covered in rich purple zebra shag carpet, and the door leading to his personal bathroom was adorned with a large, shining, purple male symbol.
So, Blondie sat on his plush, sparkly canopy bed with his hot pink Barbie Easy-Bake Oven, waiting for the latest batch of chocolate chip muffins to come out. He sighed grumpily and thought about Harry and Ron stealing his precious wares, and his hands clenched into tight fists. He wanted to have his revenge, that much he was sure of, but he didn't know how to carry it out. He glanced at his hot pink, diamond jeweled cauldron and then at his personal potion recipe book, "The Evil Guide to Potions and Brewing Skills: Just like the regular book, only twice the cost!" which happened to be open to "Luscious Love Potions: Easy and Illegal". He glanced back at his muffins and an idea slowly dawned on him. He hopped off the bed, a manic grin spreading over his adorable face, and picked up his 'magical' cauldron and 'magical' potion book.
Draco plopped back down onto his bed and flipped through the love potions until settling upon a fairly easy, yet powerful, one. He pulled the relatively easily obtainable ingredients from his 'magical' secret stash and set to work brewing it in his fashionable cauldron. However, when he reached the last step, he was faced with some difficulty. He stared at the final line of words, slightly befuddled as to how to handle such a task.
"'Finally, add a strand or two of your own hair and those who consume this potion will be immediately yours. Simmer the completed product for one minute, then bottle immediately. Best if served chilled,'" Draco read aloud to himself, frowning slightly. The words "a strand or two of your own hair" caused him a great deal of trouble. Did this stupid book actually expect him, THE Draco Malfoy, to pluck even one of his own beautiful, shining, glistening hairs? He sat there for a minute, contemplating what he should do. Finally, after several minutes of debating with himself, he reached up and grabbed a single strand of his golden locks.
"Alright, in the name of revenge…oh…I – I don't know if I can't part with it! Hair number 50,293…" he sobbed. He closed his eyes and tugged on the hair slightly, then let go. "I can't do it! I just can't!" he cried in distress, but then his gaze fell upon his hair brush.
"Aha!" he cried, and pounced upon the object like a lion upon a rather sumptuous half-eaten gazelle carcass. "I sure hope no one else has used my hairbrush recently…I haven't been able to clean it out in a while…" he said as he pulled several long, white blonde strands from it and dumped them into the simmering cauldron. As it turned out, Draco, in fact, hadn't cleaned his hairbrush in a rather long while.
---Flashback time, yo---
Lucius Malfoy furtively crept into Draco's room. He was clearly looking for something. At last he spotted it, and his eyes grew wide with delight. He took hold of the object and gazed reverently upon it for a moment, then began running it through his hair. "Ahh…" he sighed, "I do like dear Draco's brush much more than my own. The handle is oh so much more comfortable to hold, even if it is pink." He continued brushing until a slight sound made him start. Glancing around nervously, he realized that it was only the family cat: a beautiful, silky Persian with long, white fur. Lucius scrunched up his face in glee and cooed, "Aww, does ickle Mister Schmoopsy-Poopsy want to be brushy-wushyed too?" He began to brush the cat, which purred in delight.
At length, Lucius picked up his beloved kitty and vacated the room. Several minutes later, Dobby stumbled in. He eyed the hairbrush for a moment, then began to brush his rather unruly ear hair. Afterwards, he set to work on his eyebrows. He scurried from the room moments later when he heard young Master Malfoy plodding up the steps and complaining about his horrid cuticles.
---End flashback…peace out---
Draco watched the cauldron intently, curious to see what color his hairs would make the potion turn. The potion shimmered slightly, then deepened in color until it was a dark green. "Ah…," sighed Draco, "a color fit for a Malfoy. Why, I knew --" He was cut short as the potion began to fizz and grow lighter. When it finally settled, the liquid inside the cauldron had turned a most charming shade of lavender flecked with pink sparkles. Draco frowned. "Bugger," he grunted as he poured the potion into a storage vial. He labeled it "Eau de Draco," placed the vial upon a nearby shelf, and set to work making another, rather large, batch of muffins. He added some of his special potion to the batter and poured it into a 'magically' enlarged muffin pan. However, he soon discovered that his Easy-Bake was no match for such a large load, so he had to 'magically' augment it as well. ((A/N E: yes, Enlargement Charms are Draco's specialty…ok, I'm joking…it was set up so perfectly that I just couldn't resist!))
Draco began his long bedtime grooming ritual while he waited for his muffins to bake. He stood in his fluffy bathrobe in front of his mirror, his face covered in a green facial mask and his hair twisted up in a towel, and admired himself. "Yes, precious," he said smarmily to his reflection, "I'd most certainly let you bake your muffins in my oven…I'll even butter them for you." He winked at his reflection, but then, as the realization of what he was doing hit him, clamped a hand over his mouth and glanced around nervously. He leaned into the mirror and whispered, "We'll continue this conversation later, you smexy beasticle," and proceeded to go about brushing his teeth.
Mirror Draco suddenly responded, "Thanks, gorgeous," causing Draco to jump and choke on his My Little Pony toothbrush. He recovered quickly, brandished his toothbrush at the mirror, and gave his reflection the trademark Malfoy glare. Mirror Drake-cake reciprocated the action. Draco screamed at the mirror and threw his hands about frantically. His reflection did the same.
"STOP COPYING ME!" he shrieked, his voice cracking stupendously. He proceeded to have a right fit on the floor. The mirror, of course, reflected his actions. "AAUUGH!" Blondie screamed girlishly, grabbed a pink, fluffy bath towel, and threw it over the mirror. "Ha!" he laughed triumphantly. "A Malfoy always wins! I have foiled you yet again, evil fiend! Evil…sexy…gorgeous…down-right angelic…handsome…oh…I love you too much." He removed the towel and winked at his reflection. "Sweet dreams!" he called as he scampered off to bed.
-----
Halfway across the castle, Harry slept in his filthy four-poster. He snored loudly enough to wake the dead (for indeed, Nearly-Headless Nick tossed and turned in his bed several corridors away). The sheets were grimy from lack of washings (and from Harry's habit of forgetting to take off his shoes before getting in bed). Crumbs and half-eaten bits of food lurked about in the folds of fabric, and it was a common occurrence for Potty to awaken with bits of Stilton cheese and Apple Jacks in the tangled rats' nest that was perpetually perched atop his cranium. The sheets, once rich red and deep gold, had become a uniform breen color ((A/N E: "breen" being "brown-green," since "grown" is already a word)). Although one of the house-elves' many duties was to clean the dorm sheets, they had begun avoiding Harry's bed at all costs since no one was quite sure what evils may lurk between the sheets.
However, Harry slept quite contentedly in this sad excuse for a "bed." The dormitory room was quiet aside from his nocturnal noises, as all of his dorm mates had grown accustomed to the earth-rattling snores of the Golden-Boy. Everyone was sleeping peacefully except for one, rather flustered, redhead.
Ron was propped up on one elbow, staring fixedly at his best friend. He blinked very rarely and seemed to be lost in deep thought. He reached out a hand and pushed back several of Harry's unruly, not to mention crusty, dark locks and sighed contentedly as he gazed at the peacefully sleeping Potter. He glared nastily at Harry's sheets, envious that Harry was in them and not him. He shook his head fiercely, trying to purge it of these impure thoughts, but to no avail. In the end, he ended up lying awake all night, staring at the canopy of his four-poster, and thinking about Harry and ponies and why he couldn't have a feather duster.
-----
Draco awoke to the aroma of muffins and the beeping of his oven timer. Barbie's high-pitched, fake voice called across the room, "Mmm mmm! It's done and it smells delicious." Draco sighed and stretched languidly in a cat-like manner, but his gracelessness was soon revealed as he tumbled out of bed and landed on his rump. He rubbed his arse in pain, then continued to rub it as he realized that it was actually quite nice. After several minutes, he remembered his muffins and ran to take them out of the oven.
"Yes, yes," Draco crooned softly as he wrapped his wares in his special cellophane. "Now my plan shall indeed come to fruition…Potty and Weasel-by, you will be mine." He laughed maniacally, but then doubled over in a coughing fit when a passing fly flew down his throat.