Disclaimer: The sentence "you need to find yourself a girl, mate" isn't
mine. It's Jack Sparrow's ^_^.
~~
Chapter Two Draco's room
Bloody hell.
Bloody Minerva.
It wasn't my fault Draco saved some of that potion.
But miss Ice Queen clearly doesn't trust me. She never did.
Though, she must have been tired. Why did she sent me to a poster in the Slytherin dorm?
Maybe because this poster isn't too. . .flattering either. I hate pictures of my smiling.
And I'm smiling at Draco Toady Malfoy, for Merlin's sake!
He is disgusting. His tongue is so far stuck in my arse I can't even see where I end and he begins anymore.
And no, that's not a very nice feeling.
If I would've wanted to be worshipped, I would've took part in that Muggle show, Idols.
Speaking of the devil. . . In comes Malfoy.
. . .
Well, at least he's quicker than Potter.
Maybe too quick.
BLOODY MERLIN MY EARS! MALFOY, TURN THAT MUSIC OFF! MY EARDRUMS AREN'T INSURED, YOU MORON!
Damnit. . . I forgot he can't hear me. . .And that music!
No. I don't want to see this.
Malfoy doing a striptease on horrible music?
Mental note: Fail him for the next twenty years.
You need to find yourself a girl, mate.
He clearly has a problem with his sexuality. And he can't dance.
I mean, if you do a striptease, do it well. He still has his pants and shoes on.
I shouldn't have said that. I'm more hetero than Prince bloody Charles!
Malfoy, put your pants on again! A leather thong?!
A leather thong with a snake.
Excuse me while I go and make myself puke.
And there was me with all my naivity, thinking Malfoy was more refined than Potter.
Ha. How cruel life can be. At least his thong is black. That's positive.
I guess.
Maybe not.
Next time, if you feel like performing some mating dance, please go to the Room of Requirement, Malfoy.
You will find all your. . .requisites there.
The boy is in some good shape, all right. He's dancing for about twenty minutes now.
I don't want to think about how long he's been practising.
Something else. . .
I truly hope the slimeball keeps his thong on when he sleeps.
. . .
I even feel sorry for Pansy Park. Unbelievable.
~~
Chapter Two Draco's room
Bloody hell.
Bloody Minerva.
It wasn't my fault Draco saved some of that potion.
But miss Ice Queen clearly doesn't trust me. She never did.
Though, she must have been tired. Why did she sent me to a poster in the Slytherin dorm?
Maybe because this poster isn't too. . .flattering either. I hate pictures of my smiling.
And I'm smiling at Draco Toady Malfoy, for Merlin's sake!
He is disgusting. His tongue is so far stuck in my arse I can't even see where I end and he begins anymore.
And no, that's not a very nice feeling.
If I would've wanted to be worshipped, I would've took part in that Muggle show, Idols.
Speaking of the devil. . . In comes Malfoy.
. . .
Well, at least he's quicker than Potter.
Maybe too quick.
BLOODY MERLIN MY EARS! MALFOY, TURN THAT MUSIC OFF! MY EARDRUMS AREN'T INSURED, YOU MORON!
Damnit. . . I forgot he can't hear me. . .And that music!
No. I don't want to see this.
Malfoy doing a striptease on horrible music?
Mental note: Fail him for the next twenty years.
You need to find yourself a girl, mate.
He clearly has a problem with his sexuality. And he can't dance.
I mean, if you do a striptease, do it well. He still has his pants and shoes on.
I shouldn't have said that. I'm more hetero than Prince bloody Charles!
Malfoy, put your pants on again! A leather thong?!
A leather thong with a snake.
Excuse me while I go and make myself puke.
And there was me with all my naivity, thinking Malfoy was more refined than Potter.
Ha. How cruel life can be. At least his thong is black. That's positive.
I guess.
Maybe not.
Next time, if you feel like performing some mating dance, please go to the Room of Requirement, Malfoy.
You will find all your. . .requisites there.
The boy is in some good shape, all right. He's dancing for about twenty minutes now.
I don't want to think about how long he's been practising.
Something else. . .
I truly hope the slimeball keeps his thong on when he sleeps.
. . .
I even feel sorry for Pansy Park. Unbelievable.