Disclaimer: ughh...do you really think we'd write fanfiction aboutour own work? and we would never in a million years take credit for the songs in here >.

A/N: sorry that this took so long...we scrambled just now to get it up this weekend...we lurvf you all! and we lurvf our lovely reviewers especially!

falling over in sheer exhaustion,

Michi and Elizarita

EDIT: changed H-mastah's "knight" lines...thanks chad for pointing that out!

Harry Potter and the 'Magical' Muffin Mischief

Chapter 4: Potions Class Madness and Musical Monkey Business

Draco grumbled to himself at his misfortune. Potter? My partner for potions? He'll probably jumble everything up. I can't afford to let my grades suffer because of him. And then there's the matter of the muffins…I'll just act normally, perhaps even play hard to get.

Harry just stared at Malfoy, admiring the grace with which he gathered up the ingredients needed for their potion. After several minutes, Malfoy looked out of the corner of his eye to find Harry gazing at him reverently. Malfoy's adorable mouth twisted into a slight smirk. He looked up at his admirer and snapped, "Potter. Make yourself useful and go fetch some beetle eyes." He thrust a vial at Harry and shoved him off of his stool.

Harry landed hard on the cold dungeon floor. He rubbed his rump tenderly and looked up sadly at Draco. Draco glared back at him and gestured towards the supply closet. "Beetle eyes, Potter," he said emotionlessly. "They're little, round, black, and shiny. It's not that difficult." An appreciative snicker came from the nearby Slytherins.

Harry stood and brushed himself off. He pranced over to Malfoy, patted him on the head, and whispered, "Of course, dear. I love it when you talk down to me. It makes you seem so in control and superior." Harry winked at Draco and skipped off to fetch the beetle eyes. He looked back at Draco to smile at him, and so, unfortunately, was not looking where he was skipping and ran right into Professor Snape. They both fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs, cloaks, and sexy dark hair.

"POTTER!" Snape shouted.

"Liek, oh em gee, Sevvy. Don't get your knickers in a twist," Harry replied.

"ESS TEE EFF YOU! 10 points from Gryffindor for using acronyms in my class!" Snape snapped.

"But Professor," wheedled Harry.

"No. Hush."

"But --"

"Uh-uhn."

"I --"

"Shh."

"You --"

"No."

"We --"

"Zip."

"…"

"Shush, Potter."

"Bu--"

"NO."

"Ni--"

"AAUGH!!! DON'T SAY IT!"

Harry and the rest of the class shouted, "NI!" at their ever-sexy professor. He cringed and sank to the floor, curled in the fetal position (his own adorable version of the fetal position, of course). He rocked back and forth several times, then finally leapt up and screamed, "Stop it! Stop saying it!"

The students shrieked and howled like banshees, covering their ears and ducking under their desks. "What is it?" Snape asked, confused. The students shrieked even louder. "What? I don't get it?" Snape was positively puzzled.

Harry stood up and gasped, "The word! That loathsome word that we dare not speak! Pray, say not the word!"

"What? What word? What is it?" Snape demanded. He saw his students cringe once more and comprehension slowly dawned on him. "It it it IT IT IT!" he cried, jumping in a little circle and laughing as his students crumpled to the floor.

All at once, the doors to the classroom burst open and Dumbledore strode in. He shouted, "NI ZONK POOTANG ICKY ICKY NEEWOMB! (neewomb)" Everyone fell silent and stared at him. "Stop this nonsense at once," Dumbledore commanded. He then waved his wand, and 'magical' inline skates appeared on his feet. He strapped on a large, flame decaled helmet, skated around the room once, and glided out. The students shrugged and went about their work.

Harry got up, apologized to Sevvy, and strutted over to the supply closet. He obtained the beetle eyes, swaggered back to his place, and set the beetles in front of Draco. He waited patiently for a moment, obviously hoping for some words of praise. Without looking up, Draco shoved some tentacles at him and commanded, "Splice these down the middle, then quarter them. And don't forget to drain the juice."

Harry sighed dejectedly and began chopping the still squirming tentacles despondently. Draco, who was calmly measuring out beetle eyes, glanced over at Golden Boy. My "playing it neutral" tactic isn't working as well as I would've hoped. Hmm…perhaps if I am a little more forceful with my flirting…Time to turn on the ol' Malfoy charm.

Draco looked appreciatively at Harry, scanning his body with his eyes. Harry looked back at him, anxious. "What, did I spill something? Are my pants on backwards again?" Harry asked.

"No, no. Of course not, Potter, dear. I was just noticing your finely built body," Draco cooed, licking his lips for emphasis. Potter blushed and pointedly returned to chopping the tentacles. Draco watched him for a moment, amused, as Harry blushed more and more crimson. "Well?" Draco asked as Harry neared a burgundy hue.

"Um, thanks," Harry muttered, trying to appear concentrated on his task. Draco reached out a long finger and traced it slowly up Harry's arm. Harry shivered and dropped his knife. Draco winked at Harry and started pulling up his sleeve. He exposed Harry's toned bicep and gave it a slight squeeze.

"Uh, Malfoy…what are you doing?" Harry asked shakily.

"Just feeling your astounding muscles, dear. Flex for me, baby," Draco cooed. Harry flexed and Draco gave a faint mock gasp. He saw Potter close his eyes momentarily and shift uneasily in his seat. Draco smirked. He leaned in towards the Golden Boy's ear.

Harry could feel Malfoy's hot breath on his ear, a sensation that sent a shiver down his spine. He resisted the urge to jump on the blonde boy seated next to him. Malfoy softly whispered, "Why aren't you cutting those tentacles, Potter?"

Draco drew back, satisfied with the awkward look on Potter's face. He saw Potter look up at him, but he continued placidly adding beetle eyes to their potion. He smiled slightly at the sight of Potter sullenly returning to his menial task.

Harry felt mixed up inside. What the heck is wrong with me? Why am I feeling this way about Malfoy of all people? And why does he have to be so darn sexy? Oh well, maybe he'll come off it soon. I'm sure the rest of my classes will be okay. However, Harry would soon find that he was sadly mistaken. Malfoy continued his antics throughout the day and Harry was greatly relieved when the last bell rang that day. He tried to avoid Malfoy's flirtatious gazes through dinner, trying to concentrate on what Ron was blathering on about (something about a certain person named "Luci"), but it was useless. Exhausted, Harry left the Great Hall, not noticing a pair of silver eyes watching his exit with great amusement.

-----

After a particularly emotionally grueling day (Harry had to constantly restrain himself from either jumping on Draco or serenading him to death), Harry decided that all those muffins would soon pack some excess pounds onto his athletic tum-tum. In order to keep up his jock-ly appearance for Malfoy, he decided it was about time to have another go on his self-made stationary bike. To make workouts easier, he had hooked the bike up to an old Muggle radio. Since electronics do not work in Hogwarts unless modified in some way, Harry had rigged it so that his pedaling powered the radio. It is really quite simple, actually; like mice on a treadmill powering a toaster.

Anyway, we now find muffin-filled Master Potter pedaling away and singing along with the songs on his radio. Harry, if it must be known, is not the most talented singer, and his good buddy Ron had entered the room no less than five times to make sure that there was not a dying animal in the premises.

Harry's rather put out mood at Ron's lack of appreciation for his singing skills was soon lifted as a new song came on the radio. The announcer declared, "Okay all you fangirls, this is a song by Clay Aiken that was requested by a Mr. … Dumbledore? Um, those of you with good taste in music may want to switch stations right about now…"

"Wow!" panted Harry. "If Dumbledore requested this song, it has to be good…and must have a kickin' beat."

-- Flashback time, yo --

Dumbledore sat at his desk, musing to himself. He flicked his wand lazily and his wall of portraits transformed into a wall of television screens. He watched the students mill about, performing their everyday activities without any suspicions of being watched. He chuckled manically to himself. How trusting the little buggers are. He looked at the screens, spotting regular patterns in behavior. Ron Weasly was poking about in his wardrobe yet again; Dumbledore noticed that his visits to it had been more and more frequent over the years. He watched several first years sitting in the Hufflepuff common room, apparently having a burping contest. He saw Seamus Finnigan abruptly abandon his homework in the Gryffindor common room and walk off to the nearest boys' bathroom. Ahh, it must be 6:06. Dumbledore smiled to himself. He glanced at another screen to find Harry in the first year girls supply closet, pedaling away on his stationary bike. Dumbledore picked up his Boost Mobile cell phone and dialed the most popular local radio station. He called in his request, smirking to himself. He flipped his phone closed, then opened it again and pressed a speed dial number.

"Yo, dis be Pro McGee, dawg. Who be dis?" Professor McGonagall answered.

"Yo, dis be yo boy, Alby D, H-master general."

"S'up, H-master, where you aaaaat?"

"Word to yo mothaaaa! I be pimpin' it out straight in my crib."

"Fresh. Is be straight to the creepin' true?"

"Fo' sho, homie-g. I be effin' H-dog's mind better'n deez purple pillz."

"Fo' real, dawg? Sheet, dat be some mad skillz."

"Potter be listnin' to bumpin' beats. They go'n eff wit his mind. Creep up hizzay and I sho' yo' for rizzay."

"'Aight. Word."

Dumbledore hung up and waited for Minerva to arrive with the popcorn. He was excited about influencing young Harry's thoughts and actions with music yet again.

--End flashback…peace out--

Harry paused for a moment, reflecting upon Mr. Aiken. He seemed to be a ladies' man; perhaps his song could give Harry some advice about the fairer sex. Unfortunately, as Harry reflected, he stopped pedaling, causing his radio to switch off. When he realized this, he shouted, "No! NO! Must get straight advice!!!" and began pedaling frantically. The radio kicked back on. Clay Aiken's, um, unique voice filled the room as he sang the chorus.

If I was invisible
Then I could just watch you in your room
If I was invincible
I'd make you mine tonight
If hearts were unbreakable
Then I could just tell you where I stand
I would be the smartest man
If I was invisible
(Wait...I already am)

"Oh Draco…" Harry sighed, "I wish I could be a fly on your wall…But Clay is popular with the ladies, apparently…perhaps I should try them first." Harry got of the bike, nodded to himself, and set off to fetch his invisibility cloak. He burst noisily into the boys dorm, startling Ron, who was kneeling by his wardrobe. Harry walked over to see what Ron was doing, but Ronnikins would not let him come near.

"Oh, I wasn't doing anything, dear Harry…just, er, sorting my socks…yeah, that's it," Ron said nervously. Harry smiled sympathetically at him and gave his rump a gentle pat. Ron blushed and ran out of the room quickly. Harry shrugged and put on his invisibility cloak.

Potty crept stealthily up to the girls' dorm and snuck inside, trying to make as little noise as possible. He slunk in and sat on an unoccupied bed. The only other person present in the room was Hermione. Harry watched her as she reclined upon her immaculately clean four-poster, reading a self-help novel entitled How to Ensnare your Potions Master: A Guide for the Insufferable Know-it-all and fondling her right cancerous lump gently.

Harry observed Hermione for several minutes, trying to recall what Seamus had called the lumps. Woobs? Boons? Foovs? He racked his brain, trying to remember, but soon gave up. He supposed that whatever it was, it must be some odd Irish colloquialism or something. Harry glanced back at Hermione as she flipped a page. This is bullocks. I'm sure there's someone more interesting to watch. Harry pondered for a moment, then a grin slowly spread over his face. He snuck out of the room furtively and crept down to the dungeons.

-----

Draco stood in front of his full-length mirror, flexing his toned Quidditch muscles. He glanced at his watch and realized that it was nearing his bedtime. He grinned and began humming a beat to himself, gyrating his hips to the odd rhythm. "Buh da na na da da na na NYEER NYEER NYE NYE NYEEE," he sang to himself, continuing to shake his groove thing. After several eight counts of this, he ripped off his cloak, twirled it over his head, and sang, "Baby can't you see, I'm callin'? A guy like you should wear a warnin'; it's dangerous, I'm fallin'. Buh da na na da da na na NYEER NYEER NYE NYE NYE!"

Draco threw his outer school robes off, covering a nearby chair. He did a hair flip and brought his hand slowly up his body as he belted, "There's no escape, I can't wait! I need a hit, baby gimme it! You're dangerous, I'm lovin' it! Buh da na na da da na na NYE NYE NYE NYEEE!" He dropped to the floor and lolled about seductively as he sang breathily, "Too high, can't come dow-own, losing my head spinnin' 'round and 'rou-ound. Do you feel me now?" and with a "Buh buh buh buh buh buh buh buh" he sprang to his feet and ripped off his shirt, buttons popping off in every direction.

"WITH THE TASTE OF YOUR LIPS I'M ON A RIIIIDE!" he sang, "YOU'RE TOXIC I'M SLIPPIN' UNDER! WITH THE TASTE OF A POISON PARADISE, I'M ADDICTED TO YOU DON'T YA KNOW THAT YOU'RE TOXIC? Ba nuh nuh nuh nyaa nyaah." He ran his hands over his chest and continued, "And I love what ya do, don't ya know that you're toxic?" He shook his arse like no tomorrow and began slowly undoing his belt.

"It's getting' late, to give you uuup; I took a sip, from my devil's cuuup. Slowly, it's takin' over me. Buh da na na da da na na nya nya NYA NYA," Blondie sang. He had fully removed his belt by this time and now cracked it like a whip (ker-SNAP) and crooned the chorus once again, hands on his hips as he danced. When the "screaming/singing in ecstasy" part came, Draco fell to the floor and began slowly grinding, crying out "NYAAAAA Ah ah ahhhhhh. HAAAAAAH AH ah ah ahhhh." He jumped up once more and said, mechanically, "With the taste of your lips I'm on a ride" and continued to sing the chorus again. He slowly danced his way out of his leather pants, grinding up against his bedpost.

Malfoy reached the part in the song where he said, "I think I'm ready now" seductively, which was his usual cue to remove his (small) underoos sexily. However, at this moment, with his thumbs hooked under the waistband of his drawers and pulling them down slightly, he stopped. "Ferret. Senses. Tingling," he cried, twitching. He fell to his hands and knees and began sniffing the air. He crawled over to a corner of the room, paused, sniffed, and then menacingly whispered, "Potter." He reached out in front of him, caught hold of something that felt like silk, and pulled. A very startled Harry looked down at him.

Draco's ferret sense left him, and he leapt back, frightened. "P-p-potter? What in the name of Blimey O'Reilly's knickers are you doing here?"

Harry turned beet red and mouthed words incoherently and silently for a moment. Then he dropped to the ground and felt around as though looking for something. "J-j-just l-looking for my c-contact, Malfoy," he muttered.

"What? Contact? Potter, you imbecile, you're wearing glasses for Merlin's sake!" Malfoy yelled. The imbecile blushed a color similar to magenta. He glanced from side to side, then quickly turned and ran, Napoleon Dynamite style, out of the room.

Draco sighed noisily and said, "Like, Oh Em Gee! Double-you Tee Eff was that about?" He threw himself backwards onto his plush bed and gazed up at the ceiling, thinking. He really is kind of cute when he blushes…

Draco sat up with a jolt. He slapped himself mentally, reinforced the slap with a physical one, and set about preparing for bed.

Several floors up and across the castle, Harry sat cursing on his bed. "That is the last time I listen to Clay. That wanker," he huffed to no one in particular and flopped down on his disgusting bed, pulling the grimy sheets up around him.