Pansy and the Pussycats III

by CuteDiva



A/N: You like me, you really, really like me! *grins* My new fics are getting an amazing response, I wuv you all! Big hug! Thank you soooooo much for reviewing my fics, and, here it is, Parte Tres of Pansy and the Pussycats. For some people who have asked, the title "Pansy and the Pussycats" wasn't just a whim. I planned to let you find out what it meant later in the series, but certain plot twists I came up with make it hard to figure out how I'm going to incorporate the meaning in the fic. So, we'll see what happens. And if you wish to read more madcap, insane fics, read my super-cliche, "When Boredom Strikes Hogwarts."



Harry was undergoing intense psychotherapy and grief counseling at St. Mungo's to rid himself of the lingering effects of being nearly raped by Draco Malfoy. Every day, after school, Harry took a train to the institution, and spent an hour in one of those big old couches and talked about his trauma while some shrink sat in a chair saying "I see," every five minutes while doodling on a notepad. The horrors of being hit on by a Malfoy was even more traumatic than any encounter with Voldem- oops! I mean, You-Know-Who. After days of intensive shock therapy, long hours of counseling, Memory Charms that didn't come near to working and several anti-depressive medications, Harry still twitched and whimpered like a little girl whenever someone tapped his shoulder, and going to sleep was an impossible feat. And, worse of all, the whole school knew about the whole Malfoy thing, and they kept throwing Harry dirty looks, snickering behind his back in the hallways.



Harry was eating his breakfast in the Great Hall one morning when he heard a collective gasp run. He looked around, and saw, to his horror, something that would scar him forever and put him under an even stricter regimen of Prozac pills.



Malfoy had entered the hall. But instead of the pale blonde, thin boy with a bored smirk on his face that Harry was used to seeing, in his place was a full-on drag queen. Yep. Probably the QUEEN of drag queens. Malfoy strutted in, complete with high heeled, spiked stilettos, a very, very, VERY revealing miniskirt, fishnet stockings, long blonde extensions, those shiny fake eyelash thingies, and, of course, the overly stuffed top. He looked like a cross-dressing male stripper gone terribly, horribly wrong.



Harry choked on his pancakes. He closed his eyes and turned his head away, twitching furiously, shaking and bursting into desperate tears of torment, pain, despair, and, well, DISGUST. Hermione threw her arms around Harry, whispering, "It will be alright, Harry, he won't hurt you, I promise!"



"Oh Harry!" Draco sang out, blinking furiously and throwing Harry a grin with his devil red-lipsticked kisser.



"No, no, no, make him go away, please, please, please!" Harry whimpered, entering a state of meltdown.



Before Harry could get up and run, Malfoy ran towards him, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, rammed his head onto the table, and gave Harry a big, wet, slobbery, dog breath kiss.



"SCREECH! CRR, CRR, SCREECH!"



Harry was writhing on the ground, screeching and cringing and twitching and shaking. He started spitting, wiping his lips in a mad rage, while Malfoy kept beating his head on the table, screaming, "GET INTO MY BED RIGHT NOW! GET INTO MY BED RIGHT NOW!"



Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape rushed toward them, trying to pry Malfoy off of an insane Harry.



From the Slytherin table, Pansy Parkinson watched, and, all of a sudden, it clicked.



"Oh fudge."



The potion!

***



In her dormitory, Pansy looked through her Potions book, feverishly searching for an antidote to her Love Potion gone wrong.



"Poor, poor Draccypoo!" she wept. "Because of me, he was driven to KISS a, a..." Pansy could barely bring herself to say the words... "a GRYFFINDOR! A Gryffindor of POTTER descent! A Gryffindor of Potter descent who's a BOY! His humiliation! His despair!"



She returned to her book, trying to come up with an idea to save her beloved.

***



Harry had been rushed to the hospital wing, but nothing could calm the traumatized 15-year-old. Harry kept looking around in terror and muttering "He's coming to get me, he's coming to get me!" and then screaming a few unidentified words when someone came near him.



"It's all right, Harry!" Madame Pomfrey reassured. She shook her head. "What has gotten into that Malfoy boy?" she asked herself.



"AHH! MALFOY! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Harry screamed at the mention of Malfoy's name. He entered another spasm, and began twitching more than a ferret with head lice who has just eaten a bean burrito with picante sauce.



Meanwhile, in the lower dungeons, Malfoy was gagged, put in a straitjacket, and thrown into a dark corner for his own safety and that of others. Malfoy was whimpering for Harry, writhing and trying to get out of the straitjacket. (Hey! Where did that straitjacket come from, anyways?)



"You can't do this to me!" Malfoy screamed, after the gag had been removed. "I WANT MY HARRY! HE BELONGS TO ME! TO ME, I TELL YOU! NO ONE ELSE!! YOU ARE ALL JUST HATERS WHO WANT TO STEAL HIM FROM ME!!"

***



Pansy rushed through the halls and snuck into Snape's pantry late that night. She stocked up her cauldron with the ingredients to a complicated spell she had found, which may reverse the spell cast on Malfoy.



This is what it read:



To reverse a love spell which has made the drinker fall in love with the wrong person, the caster of the spell must bring both those people together and give the drinker of the potion a duplicate of the potion gone wrong. The antidote will only work if the drinker and the one they have fallen in love with are within a 2-foot radius of each other at sundown before the night of a full-moon.



Pansy was in a state of panic. How was she going to get Harry and Draco anywhere near each other?



And when was the next full moon?



***



When Harry returned to classes, everyone was far more compassionate and sympathetic. Everyone except Snape, of course, who couldn't understand how his favorite student could've suddenly become infatuated with the son of his most deadly enemy.



MEANWHILE, IN THE DUNGEONS...



"He's been like this for days, Lucius. We've had him locked in here for his own safety. The other day, he went into the Great Hall dressed in unacceptable female attire."



"Draco!" Lucius Malfoy said to his son in rage. "How DARE you shame the Malfoy name!"



"But Daddy, I love him!" Malfoy shrieked, crying like a lovesick 16-year-old girl.



Lucius smacked him. "SHUT UP, YOU DISGUSTING PIECE OF FILTH!"



"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!" Draco cried. "I want my Harry! Why won't you give him to me???????????"



A/N: Oh dear. I almost feel bad for Draco. Um, but, then again, I feel bad for Harry. Yikes. How much more trauma does the boy need? I'm so bad...