A/N:
Sharon- Oh lord, must we? Do you realize that this is the first author's note where we won't have any interrupters? Seriously--
Mel- SHUT UP!
Sharon- --the1st chapter was John, 2nd was Steph, Vanessa was typing most of the third. *Sings 'I feel Pretty'*
Mel- Ok, I already listened to that song twice today.
Sharon *whistles the song*
Mel- Do you want to answer our reviews now?
Sharon- Is it my turn?
Mel- Nope, it's mine. You're writing the chapter.
REVIEWS
AlexaDonaghy- DO NOT feel enlightened. There is NO relationship between Draco
and his cup. That is an idea that came from the twisted mind of Sharon. I did
not want that in the chapter.
Enelya- None have ever succeeded in stopping us from talking. We will talk all
we want. We don't care if you don't read it.
Fancy- Well, you're safe for now, but we may decide to strike you down for the
fun of it. The twins are my favorite too. Sharon doesn't like them. Ok, never
mind. She's decided that she now likes them, but enjoys killing them off
because I like them so much.
Hpdigigal- Sharon despises people who say this. She says that you are
classified as a Lowest of All Class Horrible Writer (see the bio of El Borla
Cynara). I think you're cool, and that you should ignore Sharon because she is
a bad typist who made at least ten mistakes in the first chapter. (ß the previous was responded to by a Helf with little-to-no grasp of 'joking'. Cy was joking when she labeled Hpdigigal a Horrible Writer.)
Chapter 4 (I Feel Pretty)
Deep in the dank depths of the dungeons laid the Slytherin common room.
Although most people assume that just because you're Slytherin that
automatically means you're a mean, nasty person, I'll have you know that is not
true. The real secret behind the disgustingness that is Slytherin all lies in
the Common Room. Think about it, if the Slytherin Common Room was in a tower
just like everyone else's, they would probably be nice too. Unfortunately, as
it is, it seems our dear Slytherins will just have to settle for being
intelligent.
However, this has nothing to do with what's really happening, so let us hie
back to reality. Several levels above, in the Great Hall, the silken screen was
still sparkling; Ronald Weasley is still smiling arrogantly. McGonagall was
still glacing hopelessly at Dumbledore, and Dumbledore himself was still smiling
obliviously at the Lemon Drop. Draco Malfoy was grinning to his cronies about
Ron's horrible singing voice.
But not for long.
It would soon be a very long time before he ever smiled again. The screen
stopped sparking and turned black, or at least everyone assumed it was black.
But then the camera adjusted to the lighting and the interior of the Slytherin
Common Room, revealed in all its dank disgusting glory. The angle adjusted
until Crabbe and Goyle could be seen sitting on the couch. Neither of them
blinked nor spoke. It looked quite a lot like they were puppets, which, in
fact, might have be true. A lone fly buzzed and the sat atop Goyle's head. It
was frightened off moments later when Draco Malfoy danced through he common room
door humming happily and pirouetting. It was almost unnoticeable that in his
left hand he clutched a goblet. He kissed it once and turned to Crabbe and
Goyle.
(A/N: at this time, Mel had to remind Sharon that this is a PG fic, and the
rating will not change)
(A/N: At this time, Sharon needed to remind Mel that she is a co-author and she
can change the rating of the fic any time she wants)
(A/N: Mel would like to remind Sharon that she could change it back)
(A/N: Sharon at this time would like to remind Mel that she is a non-entity and
to shut up and keep typing)
(A/N: So long as you keep it PG)
"Crabbe, Goyle! I just met the love of my life!"
Crabbe shook his head, clearing the cobwebs from his head, and said brightly and
intelligently, "What?"
Draco scowled and continued his dancing about, though it was very un-Slytherin
of him. Suddenly stopping and leaning on the mantle of the fireplace, Draco's face began to twitch, starting with an eyebrow-shiver, and moving on over his face. It looked as though he were trying very hard to resist some temptation. He lost the battle.
He burst into song.
He very effectively nullified any further attempts to appear evil.
"I feel pretty!" he sang, "Oh so pretty!
I feel pretty, and witty, and gaaaay!
And I pity any guy who isn't me today!"
Crabbe and Goyle blinked at each other. Luckily, they weren't bright enough to be afraid. Draco continued.
"I feel charming!
Oh, so charming!
It's alarming, how charming I feeeel!
And so pretty that I hardly can believe I'm real."
Goyle, on a whim, sang: "Lala lala la la, la laaa lala!"
"See that pretty girl—" Draco stopped quickly, looking chagrined, but quickly recovered himself. "er—guy in that mirror there?
Who can that attractive guy be?
Such a pretty face, such a pretty robe, such a pretty me!
"I feel stunning!
And entrancing!
I feel like running and dancing, you bet!
For I'm loved by a pretty wonderful goblet!"
Crabbe turned to Goyle, very unnaturally, as though something were speaking through him. His voice came out about eight octaves higher then any voice has a right to be.
"Have you met my good friend Draco,
The craziest wiz on the block?
You'll know him the minute you see him,
He's the one who is in an advanced state of shock."
Goyle nodded knowingly, and joined Crabbe in his operatic exercises.
"He thinks he's in love,
He thinks he's in Spain."
Draco piped up briefly in the background, "La, la, la," and started sucking on his goblet.
(A/N: Heh, heh, heh… *is thwaped* Ouch!)
The twin dummies shook their heads sadly.
"He isn't in love,
He's merely insane."
"It must be the heat," Crabbe speculated,
"Or some rare disease."
Draco came up for air. "La, la, la!"
"Or too much to eat,
Or maybe it's fleas?" Goyle wondered.
A look of protest came across Draco's face. "I'm not like you Goyle, I bathe!"
"Keep away from him, 'cept the two of us," Crabbe and Goyle advised the Slytherins that had started to gather.
"This isn't the Malfoy who whips us!" They added confidentially, and the crowd started to edge away. More then a few in the audience were a little green at the gills.
"Modest, blood-pure," the thugs caroled, and many students (yes, even Slyths) coughed loudly.
"Polite and refined."
Draco twirled like a ballerina, and firmly added in his two Knuts' worth, "La, la, la." (A/N: Cy grins at the innuendo she thinks she hears.)
Crabbe and Goyle continued with the determination of a tiny brain set to do a task.
"Well-bred and mature, and—"
From the Gryffindor end of the Great Hall, a voice shouted, "-Out of his mind-," drowning out the racket of the two wailing Slyths for a moment. Snape noted Lupin, McGonagall, and Dumbledore all (very inconspicuously) tossing small bits of food at the screen.
On the screen, Draco broke away from the confining ring of Slytherins and, via bouncing off the couch, jumped onto a mahogany table (Snape appeared to be having an inner conflict with himself, before muttering, "Destruction of furniture; that's a point o… off… -to- Slytherin!"), and continued in his solo:
"I feel pretty!
Oh, so pretty
That the school should just give me it's key!
A committee should be ordered just to honour me.
"I feel dizzy!
I feel sunny!
I feel fizzy and funny and fine!
And so pretty, Miss Hogwarts can just resign!"
This last elicited an angry gasp from Blaise Zabini, who had been awarded the title in the mistaken belief that he was a girl. The boy rose up from his Table, slapped a cringing Draco, and stormed out of the Great Hall, diva-style. Onscreen, the deluded Malfoy heir persisted, while his two brutish mutts howled accompaniment.
"See that pretty guy in that mirror there? ("What mirror, where?")
Who can that attractive guy be? ("Who, what, where? Who? Who? Who?")
Such a pretty face; such a pretty robes; such a pretty smile; such a pretty ME! ("Such a pretty him, such a pretty git, such a pretty he-she!")
I feel stunning! ("He feels stunning,")
And entrancing! ("And entrancing,")
I feel like running just like a pup! ("Runni—er… a dog, Draco?")
For I'm loved by a pretty wonder CUP!" Draco finished with a showy grin and flourish. A tomato was chucked from the Common Room crowd, and then another, and another. A large melon (cantaloupe) hit the golden goblet clutched by the little swot's grimy fist, and it was knocked away. "Nooo!" cried Draco, and made a slow-motion dive after the chalice, but hit the floor hard, due to the fact that his special-effects that Daddy had bought for him just in case of a situation like this one couldn't manage a simple 'Wingardium Leviosa' between the lot of them.
The screen went black(er), and the 'bugger' dropped to the ground. There was dead silence for a full minute.
A small titter came from the back of the room, and swept up the aisles until the entire Hall echoed with malicious, raucous laughter. Snape made a note in his little blackmail book, and decided to give Lucius a Floo tonight. Dumbledore shook his head that a lad under his tutelage had gone so far astray. Then he put it down to young Malfoy's being a Slytherin, and therefore completely out of his Quidditch field, and selected a malt ball.
Draco Malfoy cast a large number of Crucios, and ran out of the Great Hall, like his father's hounds were on his heels. The Unforgivables were ignored, due to the fact that they only hit Hufflepuffs.
Another 'bugger' spun out a blue cyclone, Snape felt another heavy blow to the head (Dumbledore was the spitting image of virtuousness), and the next show began.
A/N: MY GOD it took her long enough. You see, this is what happens when you leave a chapter in the hands of a person who is constantly losing her computer privileges. Honestly. It's ridiculous. The next chapter will be up MUCH faster, since I'm writing it. If only we could remember who's it was…
Toodles for now!
Aindel (& Cy)
Otherwise known as Mellimeter and Pinocchio