The Curse of the French Kiss
By: Fakeid/shadowclub
Rated: R
A/N: Sorry about the lengthiness about the chapter! Next chapter there will definitely be some D/H interaction so please stick with the story and give me some feedback! Otherwise I have no idea what you like/ dislike and I can't improve the story otherwise.
Thanks to Draeconin(for pointing out that I had written a prologue and not a one-shot :)) and Sagified Fire for reviewing. This chapter is dedicated to them!
3 years later…
He was running. Snot dripped out of his nose due the frost in the air smothered everything like a blanket cloaking everyone's vision in ivory mist. He looked over at Ron, whose lips were tinged with blue. Up ahead was their destination, the vast lake that filled their vision. A creature began to rise from the water's edge. Bubbles and air slowly breaking through the thick layer of ice.
She was cerulean blue, dark isolated strands of hair fell in her face almost completely hiding her milky white eyes.
"He's coming…"
Seemingly out of nowhere fifteen people appeared curses started flying.
"Amores Draconis!" A large fat steam of red light flew into the air and hit Harry's chest, right above the heart. Harry neither saw or heard the curse. He only had one mission tonight… to get laid. Ok…maybe he had another mission…to kill Voldemort. It all came down this final moment. He started forward dodging curses he needed to find Voldemort.
Harry tripped over his robe and fell face first to the ground, thankfully this saved him from the curse of eternal pain that Nott had just fired at him. He carefully stood up allowing his instincts to guide him, sifting through the link in his mind. Finally seeing a dark blob he stopped.
All in all killing Voldemort was one of the most anti-climatic moments in his life. Voldemort stood there and they dueled using the darkest curses known to man (and some to gods).
"Harry, dear boy, why do you hate me so? We could be great together you know!" Voldemort cackled maliciously as he aimed another Crucio at Harry.
"You killed my father!"
"No! Your father's choices killed him, I was merely the instrument used to deliver his punishment," Voldemort calmly stated. All this talk was getting to Harry. Soon He would have won the battle Harry Potter would be dead and there was this lovely bedspread on sale at Ikea. It would look beautiful in the Master Bedroom of the "Official Death Eater Hideout".
And then BOOM and everything went black. Voldemort for one brief moment in time was aware of all that he had lost in his life before finally slipping into the eternal darkness.
Being exhausted and exhilarated at the same time (beating your long time arch nemesis will do that to you), Harry started to prepare the body to be burned so none of the Death Eaters could bring him back to life.
He prodded the body with his toe it turned over slowly. The robe fell open to reveal a disgustingly thin body clad in pink underwear that said ONLY THE EVIL WEAR PINK…
Harry rolled around to turn away from the window as the light streamed in from the moth eaten curtains that framed the large window. He hadn't had that dream in a long time. Alcohol always made him oddly sentimental.
His mind raced (at a sluggish pace due the amount of alcohol in his blood) in an attempt to find out where and what he was doing in a place that smelled like urine, cheap wine, and oh…what was this? Another body curled up beside him? Hmm…this was new and unexpected.
Harry prodded the body as unobtrusively as possible, it was most definitely female.
Right. It was time to leave here before things got messy. Who was she again?
Harry quietly turned over to get off the bed, overestimated its size and fell into a heap on the floor dragging the blankets and the body right on top of him.
"Oomph!"
She was slim, he would give her that, her blonde hair spilled over his lap as she struggled to get up.
Harry attempted to detangle himself from her…and failed her head was face down in his lap, his nose involuntarily wrinkling from the pungent odor emanating off the both of them. What had they been drinking last night? Rat pee?
Right…it was time for break-up line number 987(Hey baby, welcome to Dumpville. Population, you. ) no…too cruel perhaps he should go for break-up line 765(I discovered I have a mild form of epilepsy and you bring on attacks because you make me too excited to be around you.) That one sounded more like a pick-up line, mustn't encourage her.
Harry stood up quickly secretly hoping her head would hit the ground and she would pass out. Sadly Harry's luck was running out like sand in an hourglass.
She stood up grabbing the blankets. She was quite pretty, pert nose, full lips.
"Er…it's been nice knowing you and all, but I just think that we're meant to be…so I'll be leaving you now." Harry said purposely avoiding eye contact. He grabbed the rest of his clothes and walked toward the door, only to find it locked…from the outside.
All was silent for a minute save for the desperate jangling of the door by Harry. Should he risk using Alohomora in front of a muggle?
"How dare you leave me! Did we not perform the greatest act of love?"
"Right well, haven't heard of the term free love?" Harry muttered and twisted the door handle a bit more vigorously
She picked up a table lamp and threw it at the wall narrowly missing his head.
"Look what you have made me do! It is shattered like my heart!" Harry stood there on the verge of crying. Why did everything in his life go wrong! Why did the gods hate him? He was tempted to write a very strongly worded letter to Fate, that is if he survived this. Damn his head was killing him.
They didn't even sleep together…and he knew that for a fact. Harry had actually gotten quite good at faking it. All those years of porn movies were really paying off… Hermione was wrong in cutting off his porn movie supply. Right? That's why he was on this trip anyway. "To find himself" well that and someone had printed a story with the headline of THE GOLDENBOY A VIRGIN? So he was basically stuck here until the story died away.
His cover story was that he needed to find himself right… like he could find himself in the middle of France…with no wand (of any sort)!
The sound of shattering glass brought Harry's mind back to where it should have been. With this psycho girl who was now trying to kill him.
Harry ducked. He had had some bad break-ups in the past(as one with Harry's condition would); this one girl had attempted to kill Hedwig using her spoon.
This other girl (whom he went on a blind date with) had the largest mole known to mankind. Harry shuddered at the mere memory of it.
It was a mole on steroids.
Small hairs grew over it so quickly that she would have to shave it twice a day. He knew after an extremely awkward situation in which he found blonde hair in his razor. After having a few casual dates she "suggested"(meaning she stuck her hands down his pants) that they go back to her place who have some drinks. Harry attempted to politely decline, but in the end he had to stupefy her in order to get away.
The girl snatched up one of the wooden chairs from the corner of the room and attempted to ram him into the wall. Seeing that the room was only 8'x8', it was slightly hard to gain some distance.
Harry managed to pull off one of the legs of the chair. While attempting to whack her, and possibly, no hopefully knocking her out, he did not see her bra caught from the post to the center support of the chair, and succeeded in knocking himself out with his makeshift bat.
His last thoughts consisted of "…" Because Harry was knocked out instantly, therefore he did not have a last thought. Duh.
Harry flitted in and out of consciousness. He was aware that he was being moved though how or why evaded him. When he woke up the sun was shining in his face again.
"Hellllooooo!" came a voice. It was a terrible voice extremely high and little girlish, not to mention had a very strong French accent; he knew it came from a grown woman. He snuggled back under the covers maybe he would get some more sleep and sort out all this useless information (like where he was) later.
"Honey, I think he's a bit shy…Why don't you give him a morning kiss?" The voices seemed to coming from far away.
Harry felt the bed sag to one side as someone sat down. Kiss? Who was she going to kiss? And why was there a hand obscenely close to his prick? And oh my god…Harry sat up so suddenly that the person leaning on top of him, dangerously close to his lips, fell off with a yell. The blankets fell away revealing that he was almost entirely naked except for his neon green boxers (it was laundry day! It's not like he expected anyone to see them) And where were his glasses? Harry quickly prayed to any god that was watching over him to please let this all be a very very bad dream. Worse than that one dream where Voldemort was a pimp and Harry was forced to be his "bitch"…ugh Harry shuddered.
"Oh good he is being up!"
Harry looked around. Dear Merlin! The nearest exit was past the mysterious girl whose name evaded him and a big woman with kindly eyes (Harry wasn't sure they'd be so kindly if he bolted out there as if there were wild hounds chasing him).
"Mother," the blonde said," this is my fiancé."
There was a moment of absolute silence. It was silence so thick one would have to use a chainsaw or a very powerful severing charm to get through it. The blonde haired girl muttered something to her mother and bounded out of the room looking every inch happy bride.
Harry instinctually looked around to find her fiancé and tell him to run while he still had the chance only to find there was no one else in the room…
Wait…were they talking about him?
"Er…actually I think there has been a misunderstanding…"
"Excellent! I is calling the wedding planner! I am happy for you Hannah finding such a strapping looking young man!"
Strapping? Who says strapping anymore? Hannah Abott? Comprehension dawned on Harry about one day too late. Didn't she run Malfoy's fan club at school? This could not be happening. Better speak now or suffer the consequences.
"I think you misunderstand me –"
"Wee! We is having minestrone!"
"No lady I am not-"
"Yes, yes everything is bought. The wedding is in a week"
"No listen here lady-"
"Of course she wants to have your baby!"
In the name of all that was holy to the President of Micronesia why couldn't this lady understand English?
"I DO NOT WANT TO MARRY YOUR DAUGHTER!" There he said it (or rather shouted it).
"You is not wanting to marry my daughter," it wasn't a question. It was a statement said in the same tone of voice as "you had sex with your brother!"…or maybe the tone was more of a "you eat babies for breakfast." Harry wasn't too sure which one it was, but it was startlingly clear (As clear as mud) that he was not going to get out of this situation unscathed.
"Why are not you marrying my daughter?" ahh…the ultimate question. Maybe it was the fact she almost killed him when he first met her, or maybe it was the fact her breathe smelled like decaying fish, or maybe it was because she had a panda shaped birthmark in her left armpit…
Harry had a chronic fear of panda's, there was a minor incident involving him, a panda, a barn, and a bottle of firewhiskey. Needless to say it was better left unmentioned.
"I don't think we are compatible as a couple…"
She looked at him blankly her brown eyed squinting at the near blinding sunlight streaming in through the open curtains before…
"I is understanding perfectly!"
"You is? I mean you do?"
"Ahh…it is not acceptable to be erm…what is the word you young people use? Homosexual (which was said in a tone one might use while facing a pile of elephant feces), but I am very open to ideas new! What other reason you is having for not wanting to marry my beautiful daughter?"
"No, no," Harry attempted to fix her mistake. He wasn't gay! Well there was that one incident with Blaise Zanbini…ok and there was that one really sexy wet dream starring the one and Draco Malfoy, but that wasn't the point! And maybe there was that one minor illicit thought about Ron…
"It is set! My nephew is also," her voiced dropped a decimeter or two as if god would smote her if he heard her being so candid with her word choice," homosexual."
Bloody hell. What was she ranting about? Stupid sheep of Serbia, it was most definitely their fault. Or perhaps the blame should be placed on the sheep herders… Either way there was no way it could be his fault!
"No, it's fine really! I'll just be leaving now if you don't mind," Harry said inching toward the door.
A sharp tap on his knuckles prevented him from leaving.
"Follow me," she said for once her English sounded perfect. Maybe she had a thing for giving orders.
Harry was marched through a neatly kept living space right to the front of another door.
The lady banged on the door and yelled something in French. Whatever she said it didn't sound pleasant. Harry entertained the idea of slitting his wrists with one of the kitchen knives to get away; however he didn't believe that Hermione would be too happy with him if he did. In fact she would probably pull him out of death and murder him again. Hermione was not a forced to be reckoned with.
She banged the door more forcefully this time, so forcefully in fact that it flew open to reveal a naked man…a very naked man. A man so naked that he had water dripping down his chest, mingling with the fine hairs at the base of his belly before crawling lower. For one irrational moment Harry wanted to one of those water droplets careening down the man's chest.
He looked up on the face of this godly creature…Draco Malfoy!
"Potter!" How did the man retain his dignity standing naked?
"Malfoy!"
"Half-blood."
"Coward."
"Prick."
"Traitor"
"Ahh… it is a match made in heaven!" the old lady cooed as she watched them spar for another moment before-
SLAP Harry reached out and slapped Draco straight across the face. The scalding rage he had felt since seeing Draco, the anger he felt for his inability to control even the smallest things in his life, Dubledore's death, Sirius's sacrifice, Cedric's guilt were all put into that slap. Draco stood for the very thing he hated, indifference.
Thing are getting interesting the old lady thought as the fight escalated. In this village a slap on the face was a marriage proposal, it was an ancient custom dating back to when Merlin had visited the village and had tricked the two greatest rivals of the town into getting married so the killings would stopped. Interestingly enough all you had to do to accept the proposal was-
"DO YOU WANT TO TAKE THIS OUTSIDE!"
"PUT SOME CLOTHES ON!"
Well it looks like Draco just accepted the black-haired boy's proposal. She would have to find out his name to put on the wedding invitation of course…
Ok my poll…should you fill it out and leave your email I will send you the next chapter 3 days earlier than it will be posted!
Should the next chapter include…
A) A sex rite because Merlin most definitely included that as part of his curse!
B) lots and lots of denial
C) Harry finding out who is this life bonded
D)I have another suggestion…write idea in review box
Please RR. Only 1.08 of the people who read my chapter reviewed last time. Of course if you don't like it don't flame me! Tell me why you didn't like it and how you feel I can improve…