Authors Note: Heya, this here is a slightly deranged crackfic set in the strange limbo land where no one is dead and everyone is slightly silly! I may or may not write more it depends on how many people love me, so, read, review, tell me about your day, or flame (i love creative flamers) and i might just write more.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and live on the side of the road, if you have the uge to rid me of the cardboard box i call home then disregard my plees of help and sue me!
"I hate you, Potterhead!" Draco screamed across the great hall in Harry's direction.
The messy haired and bespectacled angst-job was leaning toward Ginny (who seemed to have cut her hair. Strange.) in expectant kiss mode. Harry's felt his heart sink as all the supporting pre-pash endorphins ran for cover. How could someone be quite so mean?
"Er…Harry…were you trying to kiss me?" Ron Weasley squeaked, attempting to look shocked and failing, due to the hopeful looking smile on his face.
"Why would anybody say something like that?" was all Harry could muster and he slumped down on the table, disturbing his plate of burnt toast. "I'm not a bad person."
Harry, who still hadn't grappled with the mistake he made over certain redheads was now absentmindedly massaging Ron's scalp, who, with eyes rolled back into his head and emitting appreciative "mmmm" noises was quite a disturbing picture. Especially to the wide-eyed second years from down the table.
"What have I ever done to him?" a small pathetic tear welled up in the Boy Who Lived's eye and he sniffed, rapidly transforming into the Boy Who Cried.
"What," Harry asked accusingly as he faced Draco, "did I ever do to you?" His face was an alluring shade of blotchy red and pink.
"What are you talking about, Scarface?" drawled Draco, in a way only a Malfoy can. He was subtly was sidling away from Harry because they both happened to be halfway through a rather competitive game of quidditch and shouldn't really have been talking at all. Or so thought the Slytherin beaters, who were scowling and hefting their bats threateningly.
The insult took a toll on Harry's face that, if possible, fell even more than the sullen, depressed low that it already was. He knew what to do; all the self help books Hermione had given him had whole chapters on taking control.
So he did.
"You don't understand how your negativity reflects on me…"
As this well rehearsed line was mumbled, it had little to no effect on the, as usual, postured Malfoy who was preening in the nearby reflection on the elderly snitch. Which soon took off, tickling Harry's nose as it did so.
"THE FUCKING SNITCH DOESN'T EVEN BLOODY RESPECT ME!" bawled a very soggy Harry as he flew off the field to the boos and exclamations of a confused crowd.
Ron glared at Malfoy from the stands as he rushed to the aid of a snivelling seeker with a large box of tissues and a hopefully a hug.
Hermione was trying to study. She sat in the common room with a look of terse determination set on her face and attempted to ignore the numerous people who were sobbing in the room.
Ron was blubbing in an alarmingly feminine way next to the fire trying to face his back to Harry, who had only just realised his case of mistaken identity a moment too late. The Boy Who Lived now had a slight case of stubble burn and a perpetually haunted look on his delicate pasty face. Ginny, who was mortally upset that her brother had been harbouring such sexual fantasies about her boyfriend for the entirety of their relationship was crying in another corner of the common room was making strange, intimidating, strangled noises that scared off anybody from within spell aiming range. For she was not only upset by the "betrayal" of her brother, she was also enraged that her long term boyfriend, Boy Who Lived and Saviour of the World (and admittedly Blind Without His Glasses) could mistake her older, uglier and decidedly male brother for her for a whole day.
Harry was sitting next to Hermione with wide eyes the size of saucers. His arms and legs arranged in the foetal position as he rocked back and forward with large sexy tears falling down his cheeks. Occasionally he whimpered things like "Meany!" or "how was I supposed to know, since the GOF movie they both have the same length hair and no personality or screen time!" But mostly Harry just rocked in a manic way as he pulled imaginary fluff out of his woollen jumper.
All this was excluding Neville who was sobbing by the portrait hole, because on arriving to find the strange scene before him had grown confused and eventually stubbed his toe.
In the middle of night Harry awoke with a start. He had a brilliant Idea! So brilliant in fact that he rushed so quickly to get out of bed and he got tangled in the surrounding curtains on the way out and tripped over his invisibility cloak as he scuttled down the stairs.
A blond haired Slytherin was dreaming of mirrors everywhere that reflected his gorgeous pale body and his perfect, elite Malfoy smirk. Draco was happily swimming in the freshly cleaned black satin sheets that daddy provided for him. He was un characteristically smiling as he directed himself through the land of nod.
"BAH!" he shouted as he awoke with a jolt to find a certain Harry Potter sitting on the bed with him, placing a note on the pillow next to Draco's seductively positioned head.
"POTTER?" Draco tried his age old family smirk, but found it hard to do so while caps locking and aware of that niggling thought that he may not have in fact put on his boxers and be completely naked underneath his satin sheets.
"I am angry about you…er…and..." Harry paused, his rehearsed line was not quite working so he skipped the line and went straight on to the "I wrote down my feelings on a piece of paper…" This all seemed a little pathetic for a middle of the night visit, but as the most regal and naked Malfoy lifted the note to read Harry was most disturbed to feel the beast in him rear its head and whisper suggestive things in his ear.
Dear Mr Malfoy (jr)
I regret to inform you that you are hurting my feelings. The negative comments and mean nicknames that you give me are affecting my life. Could you meet me in the broom cupboard near the stairs to the astronomy tower before breakfast to discuss some kind of truce?
Regards Mr H. Potter
"Can't we just talk about it here? I mean you broke into my room somehow…"
"Nah Uh" Harry interrupted and gestured wildly to paper and writing with a pen, apparently he wanted Draco to write a reply.
Mr Potter
I accept your offer of a meeting tomorrow, although I think this whole situation
is silly because we both know why I hate you and your mudblood friends POOHEAD!
Regards, Mr D. Malfoy
"You couldn't resist," Ron said darkly as he shook his head
"BAH!" Mr Malfoy and Mr Potter yelled in unison to the random appearance of Ron who was still snivelling.
As Harry waited at the decided destination for his foe a loud grumble erupted from his empty stomach, where was he? Was he not going to turn up as a joke?
"I'm over here Potter!" Malfoy meandered closer to Harry with a nonchalant pleased expression on his face as he seductively bit into his toast. "Where the fuck are you?" he glanced around hopefully, "Not under your invisibility cloak are you?"
"I said In the broom cupboard by the stairs!" Came a muffled cry from inside the cupboard,
Draco opened the door and climbed inside.
"You cheated!" Harry's eyes grew wide at the sight of Draco's appealing toast, and just as Draco nearly replied with "Pirate!" he realised the absurdity of it and smirked loudly.
"So, we meet again Mr Potter and this time there is no one to hear you scream!"
Actually this wasn't at all true Harry had tested the theory out before hand and had a large number of followers hidden just within hearing distance. Draco too had a large number of people hidden ready to pounce on his command, although his number had increased greatly with hormonal teenage girls who joined to watch Draco saunter up the hall and imagine that one day they would be his toast.
"You, you…" hurt my feelings Harry wanted to say, although, starngly enough he found himself compelled to reach forward and hug Draco tightly, from here he was compelled to trail kisses down the Purebloods tender neck. "This is quite enjoyable" The boy who lost control of his urges thought to himself, although snapped out of his lusty daze and, catching Draco unawares, snatched his toast as if it were his plan to seduce baked goods out of him all along.
"NOOOOO!" Draco screamed "You break into my dorm, you leave my game of quiddich, but you do NOT seduce me out of my toast! That is below the belt! I JUST WANT TO BE LOVED!"
"What seems to be the problem here boys?" An omnipotent Dumbledore queried, appearing at the door of the broom cupboard.
"Bah!"
"Oh I see," Dumbledore twinkled knowingly, " Mr Malfoy is being mean and strangely attractive to you Harry and Harry is popping out of nowhere trying to resolve his issues with you, Mr Malfoy, and he stole your toast!"
"mmmhhmmmm" both boys mumbled
"Well there is only one way to solve this boys…A CONTEST!"