Harry and Draco

Happy Harry Potter had a loss of words for what had happened. Gaspus galacticus! He had been robbed. But by whom? Draco, he thought. Yes, that kid always hated me. Hated me with a passion. Too bad I never hated him. Yes, for I, Harry Potter, am a masochist. But only for Draco Malfoy.

Harry went to confront Draco and on the way he fell in a ditch. It was a very wide ditch. One full of passion. Finally after a long hard battle with Dumbledore the ninja he got out and went on his way. But then! There was Draco, in front of him. OH, what would Harry Potter do now? What else but talk to Mr. Malfoy. He did. It was a talkfest unlike any other. For this talkfest started with such a start that startled the beans of life. BEANS OF LIFE!

Okay, moving on to the fest:

Draco sat down. "I don't get it." He handed Harry the talking stick.

"Well it's very simple, you see. I love you like I love Ron."

"What?"

"I-I mean, like the sea of… of… see I can never form complete sentences with you. It's all your fault!"

"But I-"

"No talking without the stick!"

"But I-"

"See! See! You did it again!"

And Draco Malfoy ran away crying. Ah shit! Thought Harry. He knew this would happen and yet somehow he let it. It was official: Pigs would rule the skies once more. And worse, there was nothing Harry could do about it.

The next time they met was two years later and Harry was 14 now. The legal age of intercourse. Yay. But the question was would Draco want to slide down the slide of fate? Probably not, Harry…Probably not.

It was outside the schoolhouse when Draco saw Harry and came over to him… WITH A GUILLOTINE! Harry turned and ran fast. Malfoy ran after him faster. Foot by foot Harry found he couldn't run anymore so foot by foot he slowed his pace. Use your words Harry! You have to! In his heart Harry knew his mouth only bore offending and insulting words. If he were to screw this up what would he do? Die?

"Draco! Why the Guillotine?" He asked.

Draco stopped exactly on the syllable 'tine' "Guiiiiiiilloooootiiiiiiine? What's that?"

"Um, how 'bout AN OBJECT FOR SLICING HEADS!"

"Jeez mate, you don't have to bite my head off for it. For your information my father gave this to me as a birthday gift. He says to me he says: 'Draco, now that you are the legal age of killing people I want you to have this… For Potter.' So I was just coming to give this to you, you see? But I can see that y-you don't w-want i-it…" Draco balled. Harry had done it again.'

Oops. I. Did it again. I played with his heart. Go-

(I don't own Britney sniff)

Head racing, fish dangling, a pig flew across the sky.

No. It was all over. He had tried so hard. He reached out to Draco's guillotine.

"What are you doing?" Draco shook, panicking all over.

"The skies would be better off without me." Cried Harry.

"Noooooo!"

Draco jumped on Harry, grasping him tightly. His fingers over Harry's, his whole body over Harry's. Curling his hands into a fist he commanded, "Don't scare me like that. What if you got hurt?"

So badly did Harry want to take his sarcastic tone "Of course I would have! That's what I was going for, you jerk!"

No, Harry would get past his weakness and stepped in. "Thank you for saving me. I just wanted to end me pain. Will you… reconsider my offerings of LOVE?"

"No."

"But you saved me."

"No."

"But I actually said some nice things to you."

"No."

"Ummmmm, I have Medusa's head!"

"Look, how many times must I tell you—Wait! Medusa's head you say?"

"That's right. I think you'll find it most… appealing"

"Oh fine! Take me as your love slave Potter! But wait 'til my daddy hears about that."

Harry looked to the sky for confirmation. No pigs. The rightful order had been restored once more.

Draco continued to be Harry's love slave for three more years. Soon Draco's father had found out and send the whole family of ninja Dumbledores after Harry Potter.

Later Harry moved on to Ron. They lived happily ever after in an old box.

The End

For those of you still wondering. This story was meant to make no sense.