Ritual Disclaimer: This belongs to Joanne Katherine Rowling, otherwise
known as Supreme Author of All, who is my personal close friend (I'm not
lying, really I'm not!).
Ritual Warning: As I said in the summary, this is SLASH. Two boys who are 'special friends' in a non- platonic way. All homophobics, whether they realize it or not, shall run away. Shoo! But if you must flame, please do it w/o cursing me, questioning my sexuality, or writing 'U' and 'R' instead of 'you' and 'are'. Thanks.
Ritualistic Congratulations (To heck with that silly preface thingy. I'm feeling lazy today): Briana, and Erica have both read the first book, and are eagerly awaiting the second (they have to borrow them). Chrissy has read all of them. And guess whose English teacher has two (TWO!) Harry Potter posters in her room, the Vanity Fair magazine with pictures from the movie, an article from the paper, and a Golden Snitch key-chain! Go on, guess!
Draco was becoming quite frustrated. For the last week or so, whenever he and Harry tried to have one of their secret rendezvous, something would prevent them for meeting. And that something usually had either:
Big hair and an obsession with the library (what exactly was she doing in there?),
Or
More freckles than everyone on Earth combined,
Or
Suspiciously stalker-esque behavior - especially where he was concerned.
Their three pursuers had been mildly amusing at first. In fact, both he and Harry had made a kind of game of thinking of new ways to dissuade their unwanted shadows. However, after a few days in which he and Harry were only able to send each other a few heated glances, Draco had quickly gotten over his amusement. Worse yet, Pansy seemed to think he was seeing another girl, and had almost given a poor Ravenclaw in Draco's Arithmancy class a broken nose. This, he decided, was not the way to lead a happy, healthy, and (relatively) normal sex-life. Something had to be done. And he knew just what to do: kill her.
No! he thought, I really can't, no matter how appealing that sounds I can not kill Pansy Parkinson. But then, what can I do?
He began pacing, crossing the small dorm room in only a few steps, and chewing his lip in a way that Harry found quite appealing - NO! I can't kill Pansy, and I can't think about Harry ANYMORE, he told himself angrily. But what can I do . . .?
Pansy stared at herself in the mirror, and added yet another coat of pink lipstick. Her latest scheme to win Draco's affections was just about ready. All she needed now was that halter-top that her father had forbidden her to wear . . .
Ah! There it was, under her bed next to the latest issue of Playwitch magazine. She tied it on, and gave her reflection a final pink grin. Perfect. Now to find Draco . . . hmmm, he wasn't in the common room, although she had gotten an appreciative wolf-whistle from Zabini. Nor was he in his room! He must have slipped out to see his . . . his . . . floozy! Oh, that girl was going to get it . . . at least as soon as she found out who the little - no, swearing is un-ladylike - person - yes, much better - was.
The previously enormous Gryffindor tower seemed to have shrunk down to the size of a Knut. Harry had explored every single square centimeter of the place, even the girl's dorms (which were not quite so interesting as he'd been told. According to Seamus, who claimed to visit the place every Tuesday, there was a mud-pit, leather bikinis, and anything else a healthy, heterosexual teenage boy could hope for strewn all over the place).
His interest in the surroundings, especially the doors and windows had not escaped Ron's attentions, nor had Hermione missed the fact that Ron's head snapped up like a puppet's whenever Harry approached any kind of exit. All three of them were stewing with a mixture of frustration, confusion, and sexual tension. The atmosphere was so thick in the room that a third year almost choked, and had to be pounded on the back (perhaps more vigorously then was necessary) by Seamus and Dean.
Harry was getting that seldom-acquired, but much dreaded Muggle disease known as Cabin Fever, and he was going to explode from the tension. All of a sudden, like a flash, he hit upon an idea.
"Er - Ron . . . would you excuse me? I have to go to the bathroom," he said tentatively. He had tried this particular ploy before, but that had been during the early days of his imprisonment, and Ron was much more restless now than he had been.
"Okay . . ." Ron was having an inner argument. On the one side there was the fact that Harry was almost certainly trying to escape his captivity, and if Ron let him go, the mystery of just what Harry was doing might never be solved. On the other hand one little five-minute trip couldn't hurt, especially if Ron put a Trailing charm on him. The poor kid's probably wants to languish over me in silence. It's really too bad I'm straight, I hate to see him look like this, but really! I don't like Harry that much. "Go ahead!" he said, and waved his wand in a clever ploy to set the charm without Harry knowing.
As Harry enclosed himself within the silken confines of the Invisibility Cloak, he couldn't help but wonder exactly how Ron's fuzzy little mind worked. This was the perfect chance for Harry's secret to be revealed. But Harry's senses were dulled by the knowledge that within this very castle, Draco was waiting for him, handcuffs in one hand, whipped cream in the other. So off he went; completely unaware that at that moment, Ron, Hermione, and Pansy were headed the same exact way.
***
The way things are going, thought Hermione, I might as well get back with Viktor! Life with him was a lot less complicated, even if he did have an unnatural obsession for Crookshanks. She was currently racing as fast as she could after Eon, who had somehow managed to give her the slip. He'd claimed that he was just going out to get her some hot chocolate, but once the pheromones had cleared, Hermione had cursed her stupidity. It's not that I mind that he and Harry are . . . 'special' friends, it's just that I wish he'd seen fit to tell me! Heck - it might even be fun to watch! Suddenly she saw a shade of red never before seen in nature 0 that is until Bill Weasley was born - and hurried off in it's general direction.
Chuckling to himself, Ron put away his wand and grinned at his phenomenal use of the Misdirection charm. With Hermione off my trail I'll really be able to make time. She's a nice girl, and normally I'd give anything to have her follow mea round like a mad dog in heat, but when she sees how much Harry loves me, she'll just die from jealousy. Suddenly he heard a high-pitched scream and gasped, "Hermione!"
Almost dropping his wand, he rushed off to save her, mind full of the delicious rewards she'd give him for coming to her rescue, with Harry and his choice in life-partners delegated to the farthest corner of his mind.
"He-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-lp!!!!!" Pansy cried as the 'poor Ravenclaw' that she'd tried to beat up earlier punched her in the stomach. "Dra-a-a-a-a-c-o-o-o-o- o! Save me!" she called. But Draco was nowhere to be found. Just as she was getting her eyeteeth removed with Dimitria (the Ravenclaw)'s fist, she heard a strange voice call, "I'm coming!" and with a mighty grunt, it's owner pulled the Ravenclaw off.
"oh! Thank you!" Pansy said, doing her best to flutter her lashes through a rapidly forming black eye. "How can I ever repay you?" she asked, visions of muscle - bound Hufflepuffs (all brawn and no brains, just the way Pansy liked them) dancing through her head. Then she looked up so that her glorious savior could feel the full brunt of her magnificent (cough, cough) charms.
"Weasley???" she cried, almost choking on her little finger, which she'd placed 'seductively' in her mouth.
"P - Parkinson? I thought you were Hermione!" he screeched, backing away in horror.
"That Mudblood? As if! I thought you were my sweet Draco ." Pansy became lost in thought as she thought about what exactly she'd do to her 'sweet Draco' when she caught him alone. Now where did I put those chains Millicent lent me . . .?
Ron watched Pansy's eyes glaze over and knew if he didn't do something soon, she'd be lost in thought (or some facsimile thereof) for a very, very, very, long time, "Dr - Malfoy? Why would I be Malfoy? Is he missing too?"
"What do you mean, 'too'?" Pansy knew she was missing something here, but she wasn't exactly known for her intelligence, so she just shook her head in confusion.
Suddenly Dimitria, who had been slumped in a corner from where Ron had tossed her in a fit of fury put two and two together. "Idiots!" She cried, through a bruised jaw, "I can't believe you don't see it!"
"See what?" they asked together.
"I don't believe it!" Dimitria yelled, "You don't see it? I'll speak very slowly so you can get this through your thick skulls and I'll use small words so you'll be sure to understand. Harry . . . and . . . Draco . . . are . . . both . . . gone . . . at . . . the . . . same . . . time. They have been for a while. You've seen the looks they give each other during meals, right? You've seen Harry's notebooks, that say, 'I love D. M. all over them? You still don't get it? I mean, Gryffindors are known for their ability to NOT think at times, but Slytherin's supposed to be shrewd!"
Pansy looked at Ron and mouthed, 'she's gone insane!' at him. Ron nodded in frightened agreement and reached for his wand.
"Don't bother," said Dimitria in disgust, "I'm leaving. Honestly, I think my I.Q. is dropping 10 points for every second I'm here!" with a huff she left the corridor, leaving a very confused Ron and Pansy behind her.
"Huh - well . . . that was different," Ron said, staring at the girl's retreating figure.
"I'll say. And she treated us like idiots! What do you think she was talking about anyway?" Pansy thought very hard about this, until she remembered that thinking gave her wrinkles.
"Damned if I know . . . anyway, you're waiting for Malfoy, right?" Ron had had an idea (which was like Dudley being nice to Harry), and was eager to start setting it into motion.
"Yes! 'Cause he loves me! And we're getting married! It'll be wonderful!" she squealed.
"Ri-i-i-ght ." he backed away, "well - I know he's been treating you pretty badly lately, and I really like Hermione - y'know - Granger? Anyway . . . I was thinking . . . I know, it shocked me too," the trouble with this statement, is that he wasn't joking, he really was shocked, "and I thought we could pretend to go out and that would make them both jealous!"
And because Pansy had all the brains of a jar of mayonnaise, she thought this was a fantastic idea, and they immediately shook on it.
A/N well! This certainly took awhile. Um - sorry - anyway, I just wanted to say I'm sorry if I offended any Hufflepuff fans with my thing about them being all brawn and no brains. That's just how Pansy thinks of them, not me. Anyway - um - in 21-and-a-half hours I'm going to see the Harry Potter movie! *Squeals* yay! La la la - I've been relatively distracted for a while . yay!
Ritual Warning: As I said in the summary, this is SLASH. Two boys who are 'special friends' in a non- platonic way. All homophobics, whether they realize it or not, shall run away. Shoo! But if you must flame, please do it w/o cursing me, questioning my sexuality, or writing 'U' and 'R' instead of 'you' and 'are'. Thanks.
Ritualistic Congratulations (To heck with that silly preface thingy. I'm feeling lazy today): Briana, and Erica have both read the first book, and are eagerly awaiting the second (they have to borrow them). Chrissy has read all of them. And guess whose English teacher has two (TWO!) Harry Potter posters in her room, the Vanity Fair magazine with pictures from the movie, an article from the paper, and a Golden Snitch key-chain! Go on, guess!
Draco was becoming quite frustrated. For the last week or so, whenever he and Harry tried to have one of their secret rendezvous, something would prevent them for meeting. And that something usually had either:
Big hair and an obsession with the library (what exactly was she doing in there?),
Or
More freckles than everyone on Earth combined,
Or
Suspiciously stalker-esque behavior - especially where he was concerned.
Their three pursuers had been mildly amusing at first. In fact, both he and Harry had made a kind of game of thinking of new ways to dissuade their unwanted shadows. However, after a few days in which he and Harry were only able to send each other a few heated glances, Draco had quickly gotten over his amusement. Worse yet, Pansy seemed to think he was seeing another girl, and had almost given a poor Ravenclaw in Draco's Arithmancy class a broken nose. This, he decided, was not the way to lead a happy, healthy, and (relatively) normal sex-life. Something had to be done. And he knew just what to do: kill her.
No! he thought, I really can't, no matter how appealing that sounds I can not kill Pansy Parkinson. But then, what can I do?
He began pacing, crossing the small dorm room in only a few steps, and chewing his lip in a way that Harry found quite appealing - NO! I can't kill Pansy, and I can't think about Harry ANYMORE, he told himself angrily. But what can I do . . .?
Pansy stared at herself in the mirror, and added yet another coat of pink lipstick. Her latest scheme to win Draco's affections was just about ready. All she needed now was that halter-top that her father had forbidden her to wear . . .
Ah! There it was, under her bed next to the latest issue of Playwitch magazine. She tied it on, and gave her reflection a final pink grin. Perfect. Now to find Draco . . . hmmm, he wasn't in the common room, although she had gotten an appreciative wolf-whistle from Zabini. Nor was he in his room! He must have slipped out to see his . . . his . . . floozy! Oh, that girl was going to get it . . . at least as soon as she found out who the little - no, swearing is un-ladylike - person - yes, much better - was.
The previously enormous Gryffindor tower seemed to have shrunk down to the size of a Knut. Harry had explored every single square centimeter of the place, even the girl's dorms (which were not quite so interesting as he'd been told. According to Seamus, who claimed to visit the place every Tuesday, there was a mud-pit, leather bikinis, and anything else a healthy, heterosexual teenage boy could hope for strewn all over the place).
His interest in the surroundings, especially the doors and windows had not escaped Ron's attentions, nor had Hermione missed the fact that Ron's head snapped up like a puppet's whenever Harry approached any kind of exit. All three of them were stewing with a mixture of frustration, confusion, and sexual tension. The atmosphere was so thick in the room that a third year almost choked, and had to be pounded on the back (perhaps more vigorously then was necessary) by Seamus and Dean.
Harry was getting that seldom-acquired, but much dreaded Muggle disease known as Cabin Fever, and he was going to explode from the tension. All of a sudden, like a flash, he hit upon an idea.
"Er - Ron . . . would you excuse me? I have to go to the bathroom," he said tentatively. He had tried this particular ploy before, but that had been during the early days of his imprisonment, and Ron was much more restless now than he had been.
"Okay . . ." Ron was having an inner argument. On the one side there was the fact that Harry was almost certainly trying to escape his captivity, and if Ron let him go, the mystery of just what Harry was doing might never be solved. On the other hand one little five-minute trip couldn't hurt, especially if Ron put a Trailing charm on him. The poor kid's probably wants to languish over me in silence. It's really too bad I'm straight, I hate to see him look like this, but really! I don't like Harry that much. "Go ahead!" he said, and waved his wand in a clever ploy to set the charm without Harry knowing.
As Harry enclosed himself within the silken confines of the Invisibility Cloak, he couldn't help but wonder exactly how Ron's fuzzy little mind worked. This was the perfect chance for Harry's secret to be revealed. But Harry's senses were dulled by the knowledge that within this very castle, Draco was waiting for him, handcuffs in one hand, whipped cream in the other. So off he went; completely unaware that at that moment, Ron, Hermione, and Pansy were headed the same exact way.
***
The way things are going, thought Hermione, I might as well get back with Viktor! Life with him was a lot less complicated, even if he did have an unnatural obsession for Crookshanks. She was currently racing as fast as she could after Eon, who had somehow managed to give her the slip. He'd claimed that he was just going out to get her some hot chocolate, but once the pheromones had cleared, Hermione had cursed her stupidity. It's not that I mind that he and Harry are . . . 'special' friends, it's just that I wish he'd seen fit to tell me! Heck - it might even be fun to watch! Suddenly she saw a shade of red never before seen in nature 0 that is until Bill Weasley was born - and hurried off in it's general direction.
Chuckling to himself, Ron put away his wand and grinned at his phenomenal use of the Misdirection charm. With Hermione off my trail I'll really be able to make time. She's a nice girl, and normally I'd give anything to have her follow mea round like a mad dog in heat, but when she sees how much Harry loves me, she'll just die from jealousy. Suddenly he heard a high-pitched scream and gasped, "Hermione!"
Almost dropping his wand, he rushed off to save her, mind full of the delicious rewards she'd give him for coming to her rescue, with Harry and his choice in life-partners delegated to the farthest corner of his mind.
"He-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-lp!!!!!" Pansy cried as the 'poor Ravenclaw' that she'd tried to beat up earlier punched her in the stomach. "Dra-a-a-a-a-c-o-o-o-o- o! Save me!" she called. But Draco was nowhere to be found. Just as she was getting her eyeteeth removed with Dimitria (the Ravenclaw)'s fist, she heard a strange voice call, "I'm coming!" and with a mighty grunt, it's owner pulled the Ravenclaw off.
"oh! Thank you!" Pansy said, doing her best to flutter her lashes through a rapidly forming black eye. "How can I ever repay you?" she asked, visions of muscle - bound Hufflepuffs (all brawn and no brains, just the way Pansy liked them) dancing through her head. Then she looked up so that her glorious savior could feel the full brunt of her magnificent (cough, cough) charms.
"Weasley???" she cried, almost choking on her little finger, which she'd placed 'seductively' in her mouth.
"P - Parkinson? I thought you were Hermione!" he screeched, backing away in horror.
"That Mudblood? As if! I thought you were my sweet Draco ." Pansy became lost in thought as she thought about what exactly she'd do to her 'sweet Draco' when she caught him alone. Now where did I put those chains Millicent lent me . . .?
Ron watched Pansy's eyes glaze over and knew if he didn't do something soon, she'd be lost in thought (or some facsimile thereof) for a very, very, very, long time, "Dr - Malfoy? Why would I be Malfoy? Is he missing too?"
"What do you mean, 'too'?" Pansy knew she was missing something here, but she wasn't exactly known for her intelligence, so she just shook her head in confusion.
Suddenly Dimitria, who had been slumped in a corner from where Ron had tossed her in a fit of fury put two and two together. "Idiots!" She cried, through a bruised jaw, "I can't believe you don't see it!"
"See what?" they asked together.
"I don't believe it!" Dimitria yelled, "You don't see it? I'll speak very slowly so you can get this through your thick skulls and I'll use small words so you'll be sure to understand. Harry . . . and . . . Draco . . . are . . . both . . . gone . . . at . . . the . . . same . . . time. They have been for a while. You've seen the looks they give each other during meals, right? You've seen Harry's notebooks, that say, 'I love D. M. all over them? You still don't get it? I mean, Gryffindors are known for their ability to NOT think at times, but Slytherin's supposed to be shrewd!"
Pansy looked at Ron and mouthed, 'she's gone insane!' at him. Ron nodded in frightened agreement and reached for his wand.
"Don't bother," said Dimitria in disgust, "I'm leaving. Honestly, I think my I.Q. is dropping 10 points for every second I'm here!" with a huff she left the corridor, leaving a very confused Ron and Pansy behind her.
"Huh - well . . . that was different," Ron said, staring at the girl's retreating figure.
"I'll say. And she treated us like idiots! What do you think she was talking about anyway?" Pansy thought very hard about this, until she remembered that thinking gave her wrinkles.
"Damned if I know . . . anyway, you're waiting for Malfoy, right?" Ron had had an idea (which was like Dudley being nice to Harry), and was eager to start setting it into motion.
"Yes! 'Cause he loves me! And we're getting married! It'll be wonderful!" she squealed.
"Ri-i-i-ght ." he backed away, "well - I know he's been treating you pretty badly lately, and I really like Hermione - y'know - Granger? Anyway . . . I was thinking . . . I know, it shocked me too," the trouble with this statement, is that he wasn't joking, he really was shocked, "and I thought we could pretend to go out and that would make them both jealous!"
And because Pansy had all the brains of a jar of mayonnaise, she thought this was a fantastic idea, and they immediately shook on it.
A/N well! This certainly took awhile. Um - sorry - anyway, I just wanted to say I'm sorry if I offended any Hufflepuff fans with my thing about them being all brawn and no brains. That's just how Pansy thinks of them, not me. Anyway - um - in 21-and-a-half hours I'm going to see the Harry Potter movie! *Squeals* yay! La la la - I've been relatively distracted for a while . yay!
