Disclaimer: Anything you recognize does not belong to me. However, though I've stolen Brini's name from a TV character, I do own the stripper, though if you wanna borrow her that's fine.
A/N: I think this chapter, though I'm gonna keep the story rated PG-13, this chapter is rated R. That doesn't mean I'm gonna tell those of you under 18 to not read it, I'm just gonna tell you that there is a stripping stripper in this chapter, and a mention of oral sex (though nothing is shown, sorry. hehehe). So if either of these things make you squeamish or if your parents are reading over your shoulder you might not want to read this just now.
Chapter Dedication: Brini Maxwell, the Martha Stewart of drag, whose show fascinates me for reasons unknown. Best drag queen I've ever seen, my friends and I argued for months over Ms. Maxwell's gender until one of us thought to look it up.
Last time on "A Perfect Day to Elope":
Malfoy had successfully escaped certain doom but was without wand.
Ginny had invited Hermione and Draco to a wedding shower.
Someone in the darkened corner of Draco's bedroom had just said "There he is. Get him!"
"Bachelor...
A guy who has avoided the opportunity to make some woman miserable.
A guy who is footloose and fiancee-free.
A man who every morning comes to work from a different direction.
A man who never makes the same mistake once.
A nice guy who has cheated some nice girl out of her alimony.
A person who believes in life, liberty, and the happiness of pursuit.
A selfish guy who has cheated some woman out of a divorce.
The only kind of man who has never told his wife a lie."
A Perfect Day to Elope
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
In which Ron and Harry are very drunk and Draco gives up...
September 26, 2003
"What the he" Draco started, but, before he could finish saying 'What the hell do you bloody wankers think you're doing!' something fuzzy and decidedly sock-like was jammed into his mouth, muffling the consequent stream of swears.
"Petrificus totalus!" one of his captors muttered and Draco, who was still lying on the ground, froze, every muscle in his body tensed in petrifaction.
"Let's go, eh?" a deep voice (clearly disguised) asked.
Great Draco thought, someone with a voice I'd recognize. Someone I know.
Two strong sets of four determined hands gripped him around his shoulders and ankles and lifted him off the ground so that, with a sickening jolt, he watched his beloved shag carpeting falling away below him.
Everyone I know hates me, damn it.
As one they lurched forwards and with a tremendous pop and a blinding flash his room fell away, replaced with what, at first glance, appeared to be an overly large sty. There was a lumpy couch on one wall and a crumbling wall that Draco supposed was blocking out some sort of outside, along with a flickering TV screen and a large, low, square table that filled up most of the room.
At second glance it was revealed to be a bar, the sign above the door was advertising "Big Bubba's Binge and Beer Bar". The alliteration was as sickening as it was intriguing, which was probably what 'Big Bubba' was going for.
"Are you sure Bubba will let us do this here?" one of his kidnappers whispered, forgetting to disguise his voice and so allowing Draco a painfully familiar image of who his two kidnappers were.
Yeah, he sighed inwardly, I'm as good as dead.
"Yeah, I paid him well enough," the other replied. Draco might have shuddered had he been able to move.
Definitely dead.
"If your sure…" the first one loosened his grip on Draco's shoulders. "Finite Incantato"
Draco's muscles de-tensed with a painful crack and he was dropped onto the ground, which was really just a dirt floor covered in peanut shells and shards of glass. He was up again in a flash, pulling the gag from his mouth and spitting out a hefty ball of yarn-fluff. "What the hell do you bloody wankers think you're doing!" he snapped, finishing the sentence he'd started earlier.
Harry Potter and Ron Weasley looked dumbfounded, and slightly insulted.
"We're throwing you a stag party, aren't we?" Harry shrugged, gesturing at the bar for emphasis.
"Huh?"
"We got you a stripper!" Ron nodded.
"And beer!" Harry gestured at the bar again.
Seeing as they were both clearly drunk and so no harm to him, and as he was convinced he'd get a better party later, from whoever his best man was going to be, Draco decided to go along with it. It was a lot like deciding to fall down the stairs.
"Okay, there's the beer..." Yet another keg of Judoa combination of firewhiskey, butterbeer, and some sort of muggle beerlanded (with a certain amount of spillage) on the long, square table.
"Righto." Draco grabbed another plastic cup and (with another certain amount of spillage) filled it. "To hideous plaid couches!" he raised the glass and downed the lot. They had got past saying "To Hermione!" three hours ago, "To Me!" Two hours and fifteen minutes ago, "To Alcohol!" Exactly an hour and a half-ago, and "To pineapple pizza!" exactly fifteen minutes previous. Since then they had been toasting plaid couches, highlighter-yellow high-tops, and (in Draco's case) red, snakeskin pants.
"To highlighter-yellow high-tops!" Ron cheered, taking a swig from his empty glass.
"To Hermione!" Draco cheered, having gone fully around the bend.
"To Hermione!" Ron toasted, and they downed another two glasses of Judo.
"To alcohol!" Harry grinned.
"Indeed!" Draco downed another shot and then leaned back. "indeed… where was that stripper again?"
"Stripper!" Ron jumped forward, seeming to remember something. He and Harry shared a knowing glance and then he hollered "Brini!" There was a long silence wherein nothing happened. "Brini! Dammit! Come strip for us!"
"I'm getting dressed!" an unnaturally high, decidedly feminine, voice called from behind a side door.
"Dammit, Brini! We want to see you undressed!" Harry called.
"I have to have something to take off don't I?" Had anyone been paying attention they could have heard her rolling her eyes.
"You were ready an hour ago!" Ron snapped. "Women…" he sighed, "Come on B! You really only need the knickers anyway!"
She didn't answer. Instead, there was a resounding pop and, with what she clearly thought was a dramatic flourish, an overly-thin, pale woman appeared on the low table. She froze, crossing her arms across an ill-covered chest. "Don't I get no music or nothing?" she frowned.
Ron shook his head no.
She muttered something that sounded distinctly like "cheap bastards," drawing a wand from masses of teased blonde hair. She flicked it lazily and a cracking jukebox started buzzing. With a lazy fart it began playing something reminiscent of the sixties, though the lyrics were indistinguishable through a mask of static obscurity.
"That'll do, just, come on!" Harry pointed at the table. Brini looked blatantly offended, but she hurried to do a tiny pirouette and then turn to them with what she apparently thought was a Marilyn Monroe look but, in the end, came across more Martha Stewart.
"Alright…" She grinned. "Whose the lucky groom!" she squealed behind a plastered, perky smile.
"You know that already! Get on with it!" Ron downed another shot of Judo.
"It's part of the bloody act, alright?" She took a deep breath and then started again. "Alright, you all know the game. Go at it then, if that's what you want."
"Accio shirt!" Harry said, catching her T-shirt as, with a blatantly fake squeal, it was ripped off of her, revealing an oddly thick pink bra. Had Draco been sober he might have wondered that anyone could react so casually to a top-less woman. As it was, he was drunk off his ass.
"Accio skirt!" Ron yawned. He didn't bother to catch it.
"Lap dance!" Draco declared, ignoring the fact that it was his turn to further strip their stripper.
"I'll do you one better." Brini grinned. With another echoing pop she had apparated onto his lap, "and I'll actually try cause you're kind of cute." She swung her legs up onto his shoulders, a bit clumsily but once again, he was drunk (and so was she, probably) and so didn't really care. "Like strawberries?" she whispered, her voice still unnaturally high and her breath faltering a bit from the effort of pushing herself into a sitting position. She swallowed. "They're called edible knickers." She laughed at the look on his face and then nodded.
Somewhere in his subconscious, an echo of a memory was screaming "edible panties are a bad idea, you got that, bad! Bad bad bad idea!"
Close at hand, Harry and Ron were chanting "Eat! Eat! Eat! Eat!", drowning out his screaming memory.
What else could he do? He ate.
End note: Alright, it probably seems a bit odd that Harry and Ron are throwing Draco, of all people, a bachelor party. Don't worry, their reasoning will be explained next chapter.I've also been told that it's getting a bit monotonous with bad things always happening to Draco and then ending with a cliffie. I hope that wasn't a cliffie, but I swear, next chapter is a Harry interlude (aren't you just excited?) and then after that it's two chapters of bad things happening to 'Mione. So don't worry.