A/N: Hi! We just wanted to let you know that we're not dead. Not yet,
anyway. And we don't plan on dying anytime soon, since school is almost
out! We definitely haven't forgotten about Hogwarts' First Musical, and
should, hopefully, get the next chapter out soon. We actually do know
where we're going with the plot line, so that's a start, right? And this
particular fic is just for fun, but we have a whole bunch of reasons
already written, so we'll try to post a couple every week or so. Hope
everyone's doing well, and I'm very sorry for the huge delay in updates! --
Erin (and Bri, kind of)
Disclaimer: The following Draco is fanon. He does not exist in J.K. Rowling or our world. Fitting that we'd fall for a fictional character, isn't it?
Harry: Here at Hogwart's Theater, we have a tradition of entertaining the audience while the writers try to figure out where the hell the plot's going.
Hermione: So without further ado, we give you: Reasons to Date Draco Malfoy.
Ron: Guys, this is sick.
[black out]
Reason #1: He has a superiority complex.
"Can it really be considered a superiority complex when one is truly better than everyone else? How about a devastating truth complex?"
"Oh, shove it, Malfoy." Ron's mouth twitches. "What do we have to be here for, anyway? Can't he do the sodding list by his sodding self?"
Hermione begins to formulate a quick, soothing reply, but Draco interrupts her with his musings.
"It's quite obvious I'm better. Prettier too. Very dashing and witty. The authors don't write about you lot for months, but somehow they squeeze in time to salivate over me. Around thirty times. And then force the task of serving me upon the Golden Children of Hogwarts. Oh, I'm really much too good."
"He may have a point," Hermione mutters.
"It's not as if they've forgotten about us. All authors need something shallow and brainless to dabble in before they can return to the true pieces of brilliance." Harry responds in a rare moment of cynical clarity.
"They're just really busy, with classes and such," Hermione adds quickly. "But, anyway. Back to the matter at hand. Your gargantuan superiority complex." Hermione puts on a pair of horn-rimmed glasses and sits in a large leather chair. "Many times, people with superiority complexes are harboring secret insecurities and doubts about themselves. Do you feel you're attempting to compensate for something?"
"When did you become a bloody shrink, Granger? Worse one I've ever seen."
Ron mouths to Harry, "How many has he seen?"
"Maybe he's seen some witch doctors," Harry mutters back and then giggles madly. Ron looks at him in vague horror.
"Compensating for something? Please, Granger, be a little more vague."
"I'm doing my very best! You try becoming a psychiatrist at the last minute, just for the sake of fangirl drool. I had no time for preparation of any sort between all my classes and the play. I had to ask these two," Hermione jerks her head towards Harry and Ron, "to organize it, which I'd never do if circumstances hadn't all but forced me!"
"Ah yes. The Diabolical Duo. I feel so- assured in their able hands." Draco sneers, and Harry holds Ron back from his homicidal rampage. Hermione continues on, oblivious.
"It's bad enough we have to be here, while still trying to figure out what's going on with Lupin and Professor Letalis. It seems like we've reached a stand-still!" Hermione sits and crosses her arms, sulking.
"No reason to get that upset. Now, let's see here." Draco puts on Hermione's prop glasses (best looking nerd we've come across) and deadpans, "What do you think is the underlying cause of my superiority complex? Or are you just jealous?"
"Oh, Merlin, make it stop. I can't stand it anymore." Ron looks like he might cry. "All this talk of Malfoy is making my happy place go away."
"Which is where, Weasel? In the girl's locker room?" Draco asks with interest. "Only way one such as yourself could get some, I suppose."
"We're only on Reason #1, Ron." Harry's eyes glaze over. "Only Reason #1..."
"Or maybe the girls' dormitory. I fancy Gryffindor has some decent broads up there, regardless of what those terrible old stories say."
"Well, then we'd better get on with it, I suppose." Hermione stands up briskly, shaking off the shock. "If we've got about thirty of these to go." At which point Hermione blanches.
"Ravenclaw has a lovely selection, if I do say so myself. Had plenty of experience with that crowd."
Hermione and Harry stop their private lamentations and stare at Draco with horror. "He really is that big of bigot," Hermione says with wonder.
"Tremendous, I'd say," Harry adds.
Draco shudders, "Oh. Hufflepuff. Even I wouldn't wish those dunces on you, Weasley." He considers Ron. "Well. Maybe."
"I'm not going to make it. You're going to have to finish the musical without me." Ron drops to the ground dramatically.
"Don't worry, Weasley, I'm sure I could always take over the leading role. I was born to be a star." Draco poses for effect. A spotlight hits him after a few seconds.
"GAH! I'm blinded!"
Ron looks up from his hands, "Does that mean we don't have to do the list?"
"Oy, techies! What're you doing up there?" Harry yells, looking in slight concern as Draco staggers around stage.
"Sorry there, Harry," Anthony Goldstein yelled back. "Seems Neville here was trying to magic his feet into learning his dance steps and he turned the spot on instead."
Neville's sheepish face appeared out of the gloom. "Sorry guys. But at least," his face brightens considerably, "I did a spell correctly! Even if- it wasn't the right one exactly..."
"Longbottom. I will put you under Nochum Nickus if I ever regain eyesight or feeling in my wand arm! I think I fell on it funny in my stage faint-"
Harry almost laughs but then he looks up and notices that all color in Neville's face washes out completely as Draco repeats this statement with a calm malice. He glows in the dark besides the still burning spot.
"Malfoy, you will not!" Hermione says in horror.
"Oh, but I will. I could be permanently blinded. My beautiful eyes ruined. My talent run dry. My fame cut short. Oh, what a waste of spellbinding beauty," he laments with immense dramatic flair. He turns blindly and spits, "All due to this loathsome lump of pudding!"
Neville whimpers.
"Say your prayers now, Longbottom. You'll need them as you won't be getting any rest tonight. Or ever."
"Oh dear," Hermione moans.
Harry's eyebrows knit together. "What's this?"
"Nochum Nickus, Harry, or commonly called Knickers at Night, is a very Dark spell," she begins earnestly.
Harry guffaws. "Wait, Hermione. Did you say knickers?"
Ron shakes his head sadly. "I wouldn't laugh yet, mate."
Hermione glares disapprovingly at Harry. "Dark magic is no laughing matter, Harry. Nochum Nickus is a fairly contemporary spell, created in 1792 and not put into use until the 20th century."
"Yes, Hermione, but what's it do?"
"It- um. Er. It's like." Hermione has never looked so flustered. "It makes you- see your mortal enemy in their- knickers. As soon as you fall asleep. You have dreams about your nemesis-"
"In their UNDERGARMENTS?"
"Well, yes."
"That's ridiculous."
"Oh no, Harry. Many a good wizard has gone insane with that curse on them."
"You're serious?" Ron and Hermione look at Harry solemnly. "I can't believe it." Harry is overcome with a terrifying image of Voldemort in a pink bathrobe with fuzzy slippers, humming "I Will Survive". Hermione moves to console him.
Ron, meanwhile, approaches Draco, who is still dramatically groping around while a crowd slowly gathers.
"So Longbottom, does Snape wear boxers or briefs-"
"Um. Malfoy. I was wondering if you could show me how-"
Draco stops his flailing to grin wickedly, "To cast Nochum Nickus?"
Ron shuffles his feet and blushes. "Doesn't seem bad as an Unforgivable. Could come in bloody useful in certain situations."
"Why, Weasley, it would be my-"
"Ron, no! You mustn't," Hermione gasps. "Would you want to see Draco in his knickers?"
"My pleasure if you were anyone but yourself," Draco finishes with a bow. Then he looks slightly alarmed as he hears no immediate response. "Weasley?" He questions nervously. "Weasley, are you there?"
"Ron, you mustn't. He's temporarily incapable of defending himself."
"Uh- Ron, put that down, mate. I think that could do permanent nerve damage. Not that it would matter much with Malfoy because he's a cold bastard and can't feel anyway but still. It might hurt."
Malfoy screams.
(No devilishly handsome blondes were harmed in the creating of this rather silly list. Just terrified till they wet their pants.)
Reason #2: He wouldn't let us talk to any other boys, but he'd flirt with other girls.
"I would not! What have I ever done to warrant such an accusation?"
Ron quickly pops up from the ground and says in a radio station voice, "Oh I remember something. Let's use the handy writer's tool, flashback, to help you remember." The room swirls a bit until another scene is playing in black and white. "This is bloody weird," Draco mutters.
Ron is deep in conversation with one of the authors, Erin.
"You're going to make me do WHAT in the next chapter?"
"It's really not that bad, Ron. You're a good actor; that's why we picked you for Christian. So come on, step up a little."
"But-"
Draco waltzes in with the other author, Bri, on one arm.
"Draco! I was just..."
"None of that. Stop talking to Weasley and come on."
"Okay!" Erin quickly drops her notebook, takes Draco's other arm, and the three skip off happily together.
'Dirty bastard just got out of plotting," Ron mutters in revolted awe, "He definitely has a way with them."
Malfoy sticks his head back into the room. "And I'll have my way with them at that."
"Malfoy!"
"Sorry, Weasel. Forget you've never been surrounded by attractive women." Malfoy sneers.
"Women, Malfoy?"
Malfoy sighs and gestures to the two dazedly ecstatic fangirls on his arms. "They fight if one of them is alone with me for an extended period of time. I figure- why not just compromise and always be with both of them?" He grins and again they skip off happily together.
"This is ridiculous." Ron throws his hands up and walks off. "No wonder they get distracted from the story so easily."
The room swirls once again, and the scene picks up at the present time.
"Okay, that was just that once!" Hermione rolls her eyes in disgust.
"And what was that for?"
"Nothing at all. Now reason number three--"
"Wait! I don't think we've adequately covered this reason yet."
"Come on, Malfoy. The quicker we get this thing over with, the better."
"Quiet, Weasley, this is a list of reasons all about me and we will go onto the next reason when I say we will. And I don't think this reason is finished yet." He crosses his arms over his chest and glares at Ron.
"Now see, this is really taking a step back into Reason #1." Harry smiles innocently.
"Fine then, we'll go back to talking about this reason. When do I flirt with other girls?"
"Always?"
An awkward pause ensues.
"You know, the more I think about it, Granger, this reason really does apply. I am quite adept at flirting." Draco winks at Hermione, who blushes darkly.
"No, Hermione, not you too!" Ron wails, still sitting, despondent, on the floor.
"It's not her fault, Weasley. Though it's not mine either. I can't help having this natural charm." Draco makes one of his many famous poses, this time placing his hands on his hips and throwing his head back.
"You're slipping into Reason #1, Draco."
"Natural charm, eh?" Harry asks. "And what about the part about not letting the girls talk to other boys? So basically every girl that likes you has to take a vow of silence?"
"Basically. Why do you think your sister was so quiet for all those years, Weasley?" Draco raises his eyebrows suggestively.
Ron finally finds enough motivation to leap off the ground and lunges at Draco, who runs away quickly. Skips, actually.
"I do NOT skip!" Draco yells over his shoulder.
"We beg to differ," Hermione and Harry murmur.
Disclaimer: The following Draco is fanon. He does not exist in J.K. Rowling or our world. Fitting that we'd fall for a fictional character, isn't it?
Harry: Here at Hogwart's Theater, we have a tradition of entertaining the audience while the writers try to figure out where the hell the plot's going.
Hermione: So without further ado, we give you: Reasons to Date Draco Malfoy.
Ron: Guys, this is sick.
[black out]
Reason #1: He has a superiority complex.
"Can it really be considered a superiority complex when one is truly better than everyone else? How about a devastating truth complex?"
"Oh, shove it, Malfoy." Ron's mouth twitches. "What do we have to be here for, anyway? Can't he do the sodding list by his sodding self?"
Hermione begins to formulate a quick, soothing reply, but Draco interrupts her with his musings.
"It's quite obvious I'm better. Prettier too. Very dashing and witty. The authors don't write about you lot for months, but somehow they squeeze in time to salivate over me. Around thirty times. And then force the task of serving me upon the Golden Children of Hogwarts. Oh, I'm really much too good."
"He may have a point," Hermione mutters.
"It's not as if they've forgotten about us. All authors need something shallow and brainless to dabble in before they can return to the true pieces of brilliance." Harry responds in a rare moment of cynical clarity.
"They're just really busy, with classes and such," Hermione adds quickly. "But, anyway. Back to the matter at hand. Your gargantuan superiority complex." Hermione puts on a pair of horn-rimmed glasses and sits in a large leather chair. "Many times, people with superiority complexes are harboring secret insecurities and doubts about themselves. Do you feel you're attempting to compensate for something?"
"When did you become a bloody shrink, Granger? Worse one I've ever seen."
Ron mouths to Harry, "How many has he seen?"
"Maybe he's seen some witch doctors," Harry mutters back and then giggles madly. Ron looks at him in vague horror.
"Compensating for something? Please, Granger, be a little more vague."
"I'm doing my very best! You try becoming a psychiatrist at the last minute, just for the sake of fangirl drool. I had no time for preparation of any sort between all my classes and the play. I had to ask these two," Hermione jerks her head towards Harry and Ron, "to organize it, which I'd never do if circumstances hadn't all but forced me!"
"Ah yes. The Diabolical Duo. I feel so- assured in their able hands." Draco sneers, and Harry holds Ron back from his homicidal rampage. Hermione continues on, oblivious.
"It's bad enough we have to be here, while still trying to figure out what's going on with Lupin and Professor Letalis. It seems like we've reached a stand-still!" Hermione sits and crosses her arms, sulking.
"No reason to get that upset. Now, let's see here." Draco puts on Hermione's prop glasses (best looking nerd we've come across) and deadpans, "What do you think is the underlying cause of my superiority complex? Or are you just jealous?"
"Oh, Merlin, make it stop. I can't stand it anymore." Ron looks like he might cry. "All this talk of Malfoy is making my happy place go away."
"Which is where, Weasel? In the girl's locker room?" Draco asks with interest. "Only way one such as yourself could get some, I suppose."
"We're only on Reason #1, Ron." Harry's eyes glaze over. "Only Reason #1..."
"Or maybe the girls' dormitory. I fancy Gryffindor has some decent broads up there, regardless of what those terrible old stories say."
"Well, then we'd better get on with it, I suppose." Hermione stands up briskly, shaking off the shock. "If we've got about thirty of these to go." At which point Hermione blanches.
"Ravenclaw has a lovely selection, if I do say so myself. Had plenty of experience with that crowd."
Hermione and Harry stop their private lamentations and stare at Draco with horror. "He really is that big of bigot," Hermione says with wonder.
"Tremendous, I'd say," Harry adds.
Draco shudders, "Oh. Hufflepuff. Even I wouldn't wish those dunces on you, Weasley." He considers Ron. "Well. Maybe."
"I'm not going to make it. You're going to have to finish the musical without me." Ron drops to the ground dramatically.
"Don't worry, Weasley, I'm sure I could always take over the leading role. I was born to be a star." Draco poses for effect. A spotlight hits him after a few seconds.
"GAH! I'm blinded!"
Ron looks up from his hands, "Does that mean we don't have to do the list?"
"Oy, techies! What're you doing up there?" Harry yells, looking in slight concern as Draco staggers around stage.
"Sorry there, Harry," Anthony Goldstein yelled back. "Seems Neville here was trying to magic his feet into learning his dance steps and he turned the spot on instead."
Neville's sheepish face appeared out of the gloom. "Sorry guys. But at least," his face brightens considerably, "I did a spell correctly! Even if- it wasn't the right one exactly..."
"Longbottom. I will put you under Nochum Nickus if I ever regain eyesight or feeling in my wand arm! I think I fell on it funny in my stage faint-"
Harry almost laughs but then he looks up and notices that all color in Neville's face washes out completely as Draco repeats this statement with a calm malice. He glows in the dark besides the still burning spot.
"Malfoy, you will not!" Hermione says in horror.
"Oh, but I will. I could be permanently blinded. My beautiful eyes ruined. My talent run dry. My fame cut short. Oh, what a waste of spellbinding beauty," he laments with immense dramatic flair. He turns blindly and spits, "All due to this loathsome lump of pudding!"
Neville whimpers.
"Say your prayers now, Longbottom. You'll need them as you won't be getting any rest tonight. Or ever."
"Oh dear," Hermione moans.
Harry's eyebrows knit together. "What's this?"
"Nochum Nickus, Harry, or commonly called Knickers at Night, is a very Dark spell," she begins earnestly.
Harry guffaws. "Wait, Hermione. Did you say knickers?"
Ron shakes his head sadly. "I wouldn't laugh yet, mate."
Hermione glares disapprovingly at Harry. "Dark magic is no laughing matter, Harry. Nochum Nickus is a fairly contemporary spell, created in 1792 and not put into use until the 20th century."
"Yes, Hermione, but what's it do?"
"It- um. Er. It's like." Hermione has never looked so flustered. "It makes you- see your mortal enemy in their- knickers. As soon as you fall asleep. You have dreams about your nemesis-"
"In their UNDERGARMENTS?"
"Well, yes."
"That's ridiculous."
"Oh no, Harry. Many a good wizard has gone insane with that curse on them."
"You're serious?" Ron and Hermione look at Harry solemnly. "I can't believe it." Harry is overcome with a terrifying image of Voldemort in a pink bathrobe with fuzzy slippers, humming "I Will Survive". Hermione moves to console him.
Ron, meanwhile, approaches Draco, who is still dramatically groping around while a crowd slowly gathers.
"So Longbottom, does Snape wear boxers or briefs-"
"Um. Malfoy. I was wondering if you could show me how-"
Draco stops his flailing to grin wickedly, "To cast Nochum Nickus?"
Ron shuffles his feet and blushes. "Doesn't seem bad as an Unforgivable. Could come in bloody useful in certain situations."
"Why, Weasley, it would be my-"
"Ron, no! You mustn't," Hermione gasps. "Would you want to see Draco in his knickers?"
"My pleasure if you were anyone but yourself," Draco finishes with a bow. Then he looks slightly alarmed as he hears no immediate response. "Weasley?" He questions nervously. "Weasley, are you there?"
"Ron, you mustn't. He's temporarily incapable of defending himself."
"Uh- Ron, put that down, mate. I think that could do permanent nerve damage. Not that it would matter much with Malfoy because he's a cold bastard and can't feel anyway but still. It might hurt."
Malfoy screams.
(No devilishly handsome blondes were harmed in the creating of this rather silly list. Just terrified till they wet their pants.)
Reason #2: He wouldn't let us talk to any other boys, but he'd flirt with other girls.
"I would not! What have I ever done to warrant such an accusation?"
Ron quickly pops up from the ground and says in a radio station voice, "Oh I remember something. Let's use the handy writer's tool, flashback, to help you remember." The room swirls a bit until another scene is playing in black and white. "This is bloody weird," Draco mutters.
Ron is deep in conversation with one of the authors, Erin.
"You're going to make me do WHAT in the next chapter?"
"It's really not that bad, Ron. You're a good actor; that's why we picked you for Christian. So come on, step up a little."
"But-"
Draco waltzes in with the other author, Bri, on one arm.
"Draco! I was just..."
"None of that. Stop talking to Weasley and come on."
"Okay!" Erin quickly drops her notebook, takes Draco's other arm, and the three skip off happily together.
'Dirty bastard just got out of plotting," Ron mutters in revolted awe, "He definitely has a way with them."
Malfoy sticks his head back into the room. "And I'll have my way with them at that."
"Malfoy!"
"Sorry, Weasel. Forget you've never been surrounded by attractive women." Malfoy sneers.
"Women, Malfoy?"
Malfoy sighs and gestures to the two dazedly ecstatic fangirls on his arms. "They fight if one of them is alone with me for an extended period of time. I figure- why not just compromise and always be with both of them?" He grins and again they skip off happily together.
"This is ridiculous." Ron throws his hands up and walks off. "No wonder they get distracted from the story so easily."
The room swirls once again, and the scene picks up at the present time.
"Okay, that was just that once!" Hermione rolls her eyes in disgust.
"And what was that for?"
"Nothing at all. Now reason number three--"
"Wait! I don't think we've adequately covered this reason yet."
"Come on, Malfoy. The quicker we get this thing over with, the better."
"Quiet, Weasley, this is a list of reasons all about me and we will go onto the next reason when I say we will. And I don't think this reason is finished yet." He crosses his arms over his chest and glares at Ron.
"Now see, this is really taking a step back into Reason #1." Harry smiles innocently.
"Fine then, we'll go back to talking about this reason. When do I flirt with other girls?"
"Always?"
An awkward pause ensues.
"You know, the more I think about it, Granger, this reason really does apply. I am quite adept at flirting." Draco winks at Hermione, who blushes darkly.
"No, Hermione, not you too!" Ron wails, still sitting, despondent, on the floor.
"It's not her fault, Weasley. Though it's not mine either. I can't help having this natural charm." Draco makes one of his many famous poses, this time placing his hands on his hips and throwing his head back.
"You're slipping into Reason #1, Draco."
"Natural charm, eh?" Harry asks. "And what about the part about not letting the girls talk to other boys? So basically every girl that likes you has to take a vow of silence?"
"Basically. Why do you think your sister was so quiet for all those years, Weasley?" Draco raises his eyebrows suggestively.
Ron finally finds enough motivation to leap off the ground and lunges at Draco, who runs away quickly. Skips, actually.
"I do NOT skip!" Draco yells over his shoulder.
"We beg to differ," Hermione and Harry murmur.