Couple: Draco/Dumbledore (Wrong. Really, really disturbing. But thankfully, not quite as bad as Neko's.)
Plot Device: Drag Hilarity
Personality: Submissive/wussy!Draco
I am indeed very hot shit. I have always known this to be true, of course, for =I= am a Malfoy, but now… Sigh. I amaze even myself with my evil genius. This latest plot of darkness has surpassed all the other ones, even the particularly devious Potter-torments. AHAHAH!
But moving on. What have I done that is so very brilliant? I'm glad you asked. This time, I have done my worst- I spiked Dumbledore's tea.
Why are you looking at me like that? Hah, scoff now, but we'll see who gets the last laugh! Me! ME!
This should be good. Crabbe and Goyle kept being weird and gross and making clumsy overtures towards each other, so I sent them away from my shiny pristine self. Honestly, is everyone in this school gay or what? Oh, wait, don't answer. The wonderful me is, so obviously anyone who is anyone must be. Even my dad is, although… you know, I'd rather not go into that- it's slightly scary. My point, however, is that my logic is very insightful and true. Damn I'm fine.
So it's just me and Dumbledore now, and I'm hiding behind his door. Maybe I should have brought a camera for blackmail purposes? Nah, I'd probably get into shitloads of trouble if I tried to pull anything like that. Besides, it's a little too late by this point. I'll remember next time.
But as for what's happening now? Oh. My. Fucking. Lord. This is truly disturbing. That crazy old coot is dressed in women's clothing singing songs like "I Feel Pretty" and, and songs from "The Sound of Music"! The horror! I think my squawk of shock and righteous outrage at his unseemly behaviour (certainly not terror; Malfoys do not GET terrified) has alerted him to my presence. And he's spotted me. Crap. I am officially so screwed.
This is worse than I'd imagined- that pervy old lech is trying to grope me! I'd threaten to tell my dad, only, well, he's a bit of a kinky old bastard and might not see my problem. Like when I walked in on him and Snape playing… er… Scrabble. (I swear I will never think of Snape the same again.)
So, anyway, I was getting seriously freaked. The ugly old man-whore was feeling me up and trying to kiss me! Why wasn't I doing anything to stop him? Ah, I was frozen with fear, that's right. Briefly, I considered running off and crying in Harry's arms like a little sissy, but discounted the thought. Malfoys do not go whimper pathetically in the arms of their archrivals, dammit!
Oh, dear God. He's kissing me, he's actually- I'm getting skeevy, manky old man cooties! EW!
So I kneed him in the balls and ran off to sob in Harry's arms. It was either my dignity or my sanity- and even =I= know when to call it quits.
