"Malfoy's 'Member'"
Author: Ivory Tower
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters.
Harry Potter was on his way to Transfiguration when a voice distracted him. To begin with, Harry was always accompanied by Hermione and/or Ron on the way to class so this is an unlikely setting. Secondly, a school the size of Hogwarts never has a completely empty corridor, but when has common sense ever been a factor in fan fiction? Actually, the corridor contained one other person besides Harry, thus the distracting voice.
"Hey, Potter! Come here."
Harry turned around and somewhere there was a corner, a dark corner specifically designed (all those hundreds of years ago) for Draco Malfoy to lie in wait for Harry Potter. Nevermind that young Draco ought to be in class. He's badboy Malfoy and can do whatever the fuck he wants.
"What are you doing out here, Malfoy?"
"Ice skating. What does it look like?"
"Hell if I know! You're probably jerking off with visions of Snape dancing in your head."
"Hardly." Malfoy stepped out of the shadows looking normal enough, except his grey eyes glittered in a way Harry didn't trust.
Instead of being his usual, moronic self Harry Potter did a remarkable thing: he stood his ground and said,"Why don't you come here?"
"Okay." Malfoy shrugged and casually approached Potter. Well naturally this puzzled Harry and it showed. "I just want to show you something."
Harry was getting smarter by the second. Clutching his own wand in readiness, he told Draco to slowly exhibit his wand into clear view. Again the Slytherin complied most agreeably. Paranoia hit Harry like a freight train. 'What the fuck?' he thought, beginning to sweat.
"I just wanna show you something, Harry. Look." Malfoy opened the folds of his black robe to reveal his nude body in all its glory.
Harry gasped in a croaking sort of way, his green eyes grew wide, and he grinned. Then Voldemort snuck behind Harry and clonked him over the head. Something about Harry's undernourished, skinny frame and tousled black hair struck a pang within Malfoy's soul.
"You can't have him," he screamed at Voldemort. Draco scooped Harry up, flung the Golden Boy over his shoulder, and raced down the hall, open robe flaring to expose the trademark Malfoy dong flapping in the wind.
Minerva McGonagall was on her way to the staff room for a belated cup of tea when she saw Draco's exposed form dashing towards her.
"Mr. Malfoy, whatever are you doing? A hundred points from-oh my dear god that's the biggest schlong I've seen in over twenty years!" Astounded, McGonagall fell against the wall, her knees weak in that pleasant sort of way. She grinned as Malfoy raced by, straining her neck to get a decent view of Draco's tight little ass beneath his flared robe.
Professor Remus Lupin, coming back from a lengthy discussion with Dumbledore, thought he heard rapid footfalls heading his way. In a blur he saw *IT*! He saw, but did not believe. Not at first, anyway. Lupin nearly choked on his grape lollipop when his brain finally confirmed what his eyes had seen.
"Crikey! That's the king's mighty iron rod and then some! Must run in the family. I wonder if the Headmaster is getting this on film-hey Albus!" Professor Lupin took off in the opposite direction.
Flitwick screamed and ran to hide in the Astronomy Tower. Professor Vector realized everything she'd ever believed about Arithmancy to be a fallacy. Trelawney rushed up into her tower to see if well-endowed blondes were anywhere in her near future.
Still, Malfoy ran carrying Harry Potter. He wasn't too worried about Voldemort's presence in the castle. Voldemort would let Draco have his own way in the end. The Death Eaters were also a secret society partaking of carnal pleasures, a subject Lucius Malfoy excelled in. Yes, Voldemort would allow Draco to have his own way with Harry.
Before the day ended every student and professor within the walls of Hogwarts had borne witness to Draco's...extremeties. At dinner everyone discussed the legacy of the Malfoy manhood and how it was all a part of the Grand Plan. But we won't go into that. The important thing was that Draco learn to use his "tool" properly.
Luckily (or not) Malfoy had already acquired quite a line up of experience in a short amount of time. Among his long list of "companions" were: Lucius (naturally); Hermione; Hermione with Snape; just Snape; Ron and Ginny Weasley; just Ron; Ginny; all those unknown, unnamed Slytherin boys; Pansy Parkinson (because she had such a strong jaw); Voldemort (the details on that one were a bit fuzzy); Narcissa's friend Raoul (Draco remained unsure of Raoul's sex, but Raoul sure had a great body and was one of Blaise Zabini's parents) and, finally, Harry Potter-just to name a few.
"How was he, Harry," whispered Hermione breathlessly.
Harry was all smiles. "That's the best way of regaining consciousness I've ever experienced. It even surpassed the time I woke up and was in the middle of a fruit bar and Ron and Neville-"
Ron cleared his throat loudly. "Harry, I'm supposed to be clueless when it comes to sex in any way, shape or form. Remember?"
"Oh yeah. Hey look! Ginny's commemorated Malfoy's penis with her mashed potatoes."
"Very impressive, Miss Weasley." Snape stood over the small red-head, inspecting her work. "You deserve to ride the pony."
"Oh yay, Professor Snape!" To Harry, Ron and Hermione, Ginny said, "Last summer at the beach Snape was making sand dicks and promised to help me with sculpting the male anatomy. He's such a perfectionist."
"I wonder where Voldemort is," mused Harry as Snape and Ginny discreetly exited the Great Hall.
"Who cares," called Malfoy from atop the Slytherin table. "Line up if you want to kiss my ass: the left cheek or the right."
"Or in the middle," inquired Professor Trelawney meekly.
"Oh sure!"
"Hot dog," roared Hagrid, scrambling to get in line.
~FIN~
A/N: The sand dick idea comes from a true experience of my own at the lake with a friend a few years back. The ass-kissing idea I borrowed from "The Witches of Eastwick", an absolutely wonderful book. Read it if you get a chance.
Author: Ivory Tower
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters.
Harry Potter was on his way to Transfiguration when a voice distracted him. To begin with, Harry was always accompanied by Hermione and/or Ron on the way to class so this is an unlikely setting. Secondly, a school the size of Hogwarts never has a completely empty corridor, but when has common sense ever been a factor in fan fiction? Actually, the corridor contained one other person besides Harry, thus the distracting voice.
"Hey, Potter! Come here."
Harry turned around and somewhere there was a corner, a dark corner specifically designed (all those hundreds of years ago) for Draco Malfoy to lie in wait for Harry Potter. Nevermind that young Draco ought to be in class. He's badboy Malfoy and can do whatever the fuck he wants.
"What are you doing out here, Malfoy?"
"Ice skating. What does it look like?"
"Hell if I know! You're probably jerking off with visions of Snape dancing in your head."
"Hardly." Malfoy stepped out of the shadows looking normal enough, except his grey eyes glittered in a way Harry didn't trust.
Instead of being his usual, moronic self Harry Potter did a remarkable thing: he stood his ground and said,"Why don't you come here?"
"Okay." Malfoy shrugged and casually approached Potter. Well naturally this puzzled Harry and it showed. "I just want to show you something."
Harry was getting smarter by the second. Clutching his own wand in readiness, he told Draco to slowly exhibit his wand into clear view. Again the Slytherin complied most agreeably. Paranoia hit Harry like a freight train. 'What the fuck?' he thought, beginning to sweat.
"I just wanna show you something, Harry. Look." Malfoy opened the folds of his black robe to reveal his nude body in all its glory.
Harry gasped in a croaking sort of way, his green eyes grew wide, and he grinned. Then Voldemort snuck behind Harry and clonked him over the head. Something about Harry's undernourished, skinny frame and tousled black hair struck a pang within Malfoy's soul.
"You can't have him," he screamed at Voldemort. Draco scooped Harry up, flung the Golden Boy over his shoulder, and raced down the hall, open robe flaring to expose the trademark Malfoy dong flapping in the wind.
Minerva McGonagall was on her way to the staff room for a belated cup of tea when she saw Draco's exposed form dashing towards her.
"Mr. Malfoy, whatever are you doing? A hundred points from-oh my dear god that's the biggest schlong I've seen in over twenty years!" Astounded, McGonagall fell against the wall, her knees weak in that pleasant sort of way. She grinned as Malfoy raced by, straining her neck to get a decent view of Draco's tight little ass beneath his flared robe.
Professor Remus Lupin, coming back from a lengthy discussion with Dumbledore, thought he heard rapid footfalls heading his way. In a blur he saw *IT*! He saw, but did not believe. Not at first, anyway. Lupin nearly choked on his grape lollipop when his brain finally confirmed what his eyes had seen.
"Crikey! That's the king's mighty iron rod and then some! Must run in the family. I wonder if the Headmaster is getting this on film-hey Albus!" Professor Lupin took off in the opposite direction.
Flitwick screamed and ran to hide in the Astronomy Tower. Professor Vector realized everything she'd ever believed about Arithmancy to be a fallacy. Trelawney rushed up into her tower to see if well-endowed blondes were anywhere in her near future.
Still, Malfoy ran carrying Harry Potter. He wasn't too worried about Voldemort's presence in the castle. Voldemort would let Draco have his own way in the end. The Death Eaters were also a secret society partaking of carnal pleasures, a subject Lucius Malfoy excelled in. Yes, Voldemort would allow Draco to have his own way with Harry.
Before the day ended every student and professor within the walls of Hogwarts had borne witness to Draco's...extremeties. At dinner everyone discussed the legacy of the Malfoy manhood and how it was all a part of the Grand Plan. But we won't go into that. The important thing was that Draco learn to use his "tool" properly.
Luckily (or not) Malfoy had already acquired quite a line up of experience in a short amount of time. Among his long list of "companions" were: Lucius (naturally); Hermione; Hermione with Snape; just Snape; Ron and Ginny Weasley; just Ron; Ginny; all those unknown, unnamed Slytherin boys; Pansy Parkinson (because she had such a strong jaw); Voldemort (the details on that one were a bit fuzzy); Narcissa's friend Raoul (Draco remained unsure of Raoul's sex, but Raoul sure had a great body and was one of Blaise Zabini's parents) and, finally, Harry Potter-just to name a few.
"How was he, Harry," whispered Hermione breathlessly.
Harry was all smiles. "That's the best way of regaining consciousness I've ever experienced. It even surpassed the time I woke up and was in the middle of a fruit bar and Ron and Neville-"
Ron cleared his throat loudly. "Harry, I'm supposed to be clueless when it comes to sex in any way, shape or form. Remember?"
"Oh yeah. Hey look! Ginny's commemorated Malfoy's penis with her mashed potatoes."
"Very impressive, Miss Weasley." Snape stood over the small red-head, inspecting her work. "You deserve to ride the pony."
"Oh yay, Professor Snape!" To Harry, Ron and Hermione, Ginny said, "Last summer at the beach Snape was making sand dicks and promised to help me with sculpting the male anatomy. He's such a perfectionist."
"I wonder where Voldemort is," mused Harry as Snape and Ginny discreetly exited the Great Hall.
"Who cares," called Malfoy from atop the Slytherin table. "Line up if you want to kiss my ass: the left cheek or the right."
"Or in the middle," inquired Professor Trelawney meekly.
"Oh sure!"
"Hot dog," roared Hagrid, scrambling to get in line.
~FIN~
A/N: The sand dick idea comes from a true experience of my own at the lake with a friend a few years back. The ass-kissing idea I borrowed from "The Witches of Eastwick", an absolutely wonderful book. Read it if you get a chance.