- Secrets of the Forbidden Broomcloset -
Authoress Ramble: I have so much to fit in the chapter after this now, argh! I have to do ... well, this one thing ... and then, this other thing, and then this one little detail and ... blargh. This story will never, never end.
Warnings: This story has been rated for repeated use of language and eventual sexual content (none now). Also, it is slash, though I don't feel that should influence the rating ... read as your morals and inhibitions permit.
Disclaimer: Obviously Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger et cetera, et cetera, all belong to J.K. Rowling, the rich genius authoress of the entire Harry Potter series, and also her publishers, et cetera, et cetera, though all original plot lines independent of her novels and her characters belong to me as they were derived from my own twisted mind, et cetera, et cetera, so please do not sue me as I am but a poor, lonely, slash-loving girl authoress, et cetera, et cetera.
Semi-Important Note If You're Confused: Today is Sunday morning in the story.
=============================================================
Draco sat unmoving in his seat, his light eyes narrowed into thin slits as he stared coldly around the Great Hall. He was chewing slowly, his piece of toast long reduced to a saliva-drenched pulp in his mouth. Pansy, seated next to him, rolled her eyes.
The morning post isn't for another seven minutes, lovely, she said rather tartly, still sore over having been screamed at the night before. Draco flashed his eyes to her for a moment, his lips twisting down into a scowl, and said nothing.
It's just the school owls anyway, Blaise said easily, oblivious to the letter's existence. The post owls that have to go any distance have the day off, cept the newspaper ones. Why so anxious for your Prophet?
That publication can burn in the depths of Dante's imagination, the blonde hissed, his eyes far from his friends. He was glaring intently at the large windows through which the owls would fly in just a few minutes, and when his eyes wandered from that point, they landed on Potter.
Disheveled, lazy Potter, his black hair falling over his forehead in raggy waves, his black slacks and loose, dark grey shirt anonymous and unappealing. He looked to Draco as though he had dressed in the dark, stumbled out of bed in the morning only to throw on, unashamed, the first articles of clothing his hands could grasp. Did he bother to comb his hair at all? The annoyance of it all made the blonde want to stroll over to his table and jerk a brush violently through his tangled black hair, all the while listening to him wince and twitch ... whimper as he ran his pale hands through those wild locks ...
Gods, you're out of it this morning, Blaise frowned, waving a hand in front of his friend's face. Have a latte, will you? And why are you staring over at the Gryffindor table? Are we planning another attack on Potter?
He grinned at this, leaning closer to the blonde, who jerked as his mind snapped back into reality.
You might say that, Pansy smirked, taking a blueberry muffin and nibbling on it playfully.
Well fuck, let me in on it then! Blaise jabbed excitedly, sliding closer to his slinky female friend. I want to know everything. I love hooking up this shit!
Hooking up, Pansy purred delicately. Yes, yes. That's part of it.
Panse, one more word and I'm gorging out your vagina with a steak fork, Draco growled, his eyes locked now on the large windows. Blaise paled, spinning around to stare, slack-jawed, at the blonde.
You're fighting? he winced, an eyebrow raising.
You might say that, Pansy replied quickly. You see, Blaise, Drake and I had this lovely chat, and it turns out that he's--
Draco shouted, swallowing the rest of his toast in a sudden gulp. The fucking Sunday post is here! About goddamn time! OSIRIS!
Pansy and Blaise both jumped and turned at the sudden scream, staring wide-eyed at the blonde. He had stood, his food abandoned, and was now waving franticly for his own owl. It was soaring in as one of the first in the crowd of owls, his large wings beating steadily.
He dipped to the Slytherin table and landed expertly on Draco's outstretched arm. He was a gorgeous bird, purebred to absolute perfection - his wingspan was broad, his silky coat of feathers jet black, less the white tips on the outermost points of his wings. He turned his glowing amber eyes to the blonde's frantic silver ones, hooting deeply.
Good, obedient bird, Draco cooed, his eyes grave as he fed his pet a small morsel of sausage. I have a little mission for you. Listen well, and if you succeed, you'll be eating sausages out of my palm until you're too fat to fly home.
Osiris hooted at attention. Pansy and Blaise, slightly reeling from the shock of hearing their usually icy friend bribing his own owl, listened and watched with wide eyes.
You know Potter's snoody white owl? Draco hissed, using his free hand to point out the snow-coloured bird, just now swooping in through the large window. She's got a letter for him from this bitch here, and I want you to steal it from her. Do what you must. GO!
Osiris hooted loyally, then took off into the Great Hall air, beating his black wings toward the Gryffindor table. Draco watched greedily as he neared it, his talons, sharp and shining black, uncoiling beautifully.
How did you know I used Potter's owl? Pansy pouted, sneering up at the blonde.
You hate the school owls, you've said a thousand times how ruddy brown owls look, Draco replied with ease. And you love the white ones. I've heard you compliment Potter's owl myself.
Oh, damn you, Pansy growled, flipping her hair in annoyance.
I think stealing mail is illegal, Draco, Blaise spoke up from behind the girl, his face bewildered. And why all the bother with one letter, anyway? What's Potter's mail to us?
Draco snapped. He turned his sharp eyes back to his owl, watching with growing elation as it began its swift descent toward the other table, sharp talons at the ready.
Across the expansive room, Ron looked up into the crowd of descending owls, chewing his lump of sausage in his mouth and swallowing before reaching out his hand to point.
Look mate, he said, turning to Harry, who was glaring darkly over at the Slytherin table between bites of his toast. He had watched as Draco had fed and spoken to his owl, something he had never before seen the blonde do. He had never thought him one to care for a pet, in truth, to care for anything at all.
What is it, Ron? Harry snapped rather tartly, preferring at the moment to be left to his own wandering thoughts.
Hedwig is coming our way, and she's got a letter for you, Ron said in a proud sort of voice, happy to have been first to notice this little event.
said Hermione, her eyes not lifting from the book spread out on the breakfast table in front of her. That's interesting. Maybe it's from Padfoot, hmm?
the raven-haired boy agreed slowly, finally tearing his eyes away from the silver-eyed boy yards away. The thought of news from Sirius was tempting; he hadn't seen his godfather since the summertime.
He looked up, spotting Hedwig easily, her white coat gleaming among the plain muddy browns of the school owls. He whistled to her, reaching for a piece of sausage to slice up and feed to her once she came to him. Twenty feet above him, she hooted back affectionately.
Yes Osiris, just a few feet more, she hasn't caught sight of you yet, Draco spoke excitedly to himself, wringing his hands in his lap. You can do it, you sweet, lovely creature ... dear violent, powerful creature ...
You're scaring us, Drake, Pansy commented dryly from next to him, shaking her head slowly. Blaise was watching both the blonde and the black owl with wide, bemused eyes, still not entirely sure what was happening.
Man, what'd Potter's owl ever do to you? he asked, yelping when Pansy elbowed him roughly in the side and shot him a dark glare.
Shut up, Blaise, the blonde growled, still silently cheering for his avatar. He waited, his eyes alert and attentive, watching with impossible precision, unbreakable concentration as Osiris loomed closer to the other bird, closer and closer ...
The raven owl closed the distance between himself and his target with a final, great sweep of his long wings, broadsiding her roughly. Hedwig screeched in panic, flapping wildly to keep her balance while simultaneously nipping at the larger bird, who was flexing his sharp talons warningly, beating his wings to stay in place.
Harry, many feet below, gasped and then promptly cursed, standing immediately and withdrawing his wand. Ron paled, his jaw dropping at the catfight above him, and Hermione's head jolted up in alarm, her lips forming a ring of surprise.
You bloody psycho owl! Harry shouted up into the Great Hall ceiling, raising his voice so that it might carry over both the distance and the screeching of the other owls as they flew off in fear. Get away from Hedwig! Now, damn you!
Owls aren't supposed to be aggressive like that! Hermione gasped, confusion relevant in her wide chocolate eyes. Especially not trained postal owls!
It's obviously gone mental! Ron yelped back, not sure what to do. Harry continued to scream up at Osiris, who generally ignored his curses and shouts.
Leave her alone, you freaking featherbrained demon! he yelled up, waving his fist wildly. I mean it, if you don't leave her alone this instant I'll resort to more drastic measures! I fucking mean it, you moronic creature!
By this time, Harry and the fighting owls above his head had drawn quite the crowd, many students ignoring their unfinished breakfasts in favor of catching this disturbing show. Up at the staff table, eyes had shifted, alert and rather alarmed.
A wave of gasps sounded as Harry finally gave up verbal reasoning and withdrew his wand, pointing it up at the nipping, screeching black bird.
Oh fuck, he's going for Osiris! Draco swore, slamming his fist on the table in anger. Get the letter now, you damn bird! Hurry up before Potter sets you on fire!
Panse, what's in this letter? Blaise whimpered, now more than frightened at his friend's behavior. The long-haired girl only smiled, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice calmly as she watched the ongoing show.
Hermione's voice sounded, grabbing his shirt and tugging down on it roughly to gain his attention. You can't attack an owl! That's showing cruelty to a domesticated magical creature, it's against the law!
He's going to hurt Hedwig if I don't do something! Harry yelled down at her, his wand still aimed for the aerial fight. I can't just stand here! That crazy thing is a lot bigger than her, she'll never win and come out unharmed!
Yes, Harry, I know, but there has to be some other way to stop it besides--
But at this moment, the fight took a sudden and strange turn. Osiris lunged forward, talons outstretched, only to grip and rip away the letter that was tied tightly to Hedwig's leg. She hooted in outrage, screeching as the larger bird turned and began to fly toward the other side of the Great Hall. She made to follow him, flapping her ivory wings wildly in horror, but was stopped when Harry whistled quietly below her.
She paused a moment, then dove down to her master, hooting loudly as she landed on his outstretched hand. Harry lowered her, using his free hand to check his beloved pet over for injuries. She appeared to have a lost a few feathers, but other than that, she seemed unharmed, still hooting as though royally pissed.
Draco, on the other hand, watched in sheer joy as his Osiris dove down to his own waiting arm, letter clasped in his thick talons. The bird dropped the letter on his plate before turning his eyes to his owner's expectantly, his beak nipping at the air.
Good bird, sweet bird, Draco ravished, feeding him a large chunk of sausage. Such a gorgeous, powerful creature, so obedient, so wise ...
He ran his hand down the bird's back for a moment, watching as it greedily ate, then sent it off into the air in favor of snatching the letter, grasping it in his hands with deep passion.
Take this, Panse! he spat, grinning down at the other girl. I got the letter! I won this round! No fake sexual invites or disgusting, mushy words of bullshited love crap for Potter! I got the letter!
Yes, you did, Panse spoke serenely. And everyone saw you steal it. By ordering the mauling of Potter's poor, sweet owl, no less.
Draco froze at this, finally noticing his surroundings. Hundreds of angry, owl-loving students were glaring at him from their seats, Potter's red-hot glare the most intimidating of all. Even from yards away, his emerald eyes were conspicuously burning with fury, his wand still gripped dangerously at his side.
Somehow, this affected Draco the most. The fear of being mass-hexed by the school was influencing him, yes, but the realization that he had just completely pissed off Harry, perhaps for the remainder of their school days, sunk his stomach the deepest. In his rush to rescue himself from utter humiliation, he hadn't thought of how his actions might jeopardize the civil terms had been on with the boy.
In fact, Draco thought dully to himself, I think I've just fucked myself over ten times more than Pansy's letter ever would have.
Fuck, Pansy, he asked weakly. What the hell did I just do?
We'll discuss it in the Headmaster's office, a stern voice spoke from behind him. Draco jerked, turning his head around only to stare into the infuriated eyes of Professor McGonagall.
the blonde gulped. I don't know what happened, he just went insane! I think it might be the owl mating season, and, you know, we never bothered to have the ruddy thing fixed before we--
Follow me, Mr. Malfoy, the teacher behind him spoke tersely. And bring the letter.
==================================================================
Draco: Haha, you bloody suckers. You didn't even get to read the letter yet. You have to wait until the next chapter ... hahaha, you got screwed over! This is so great ... for once, the psycho authoress makes a good choice ...
Harry: That's true, actually ... and we've only kissed once throughout all these chapters. I wonder why people enjoy reading this story so much ... I mean, if I were going to read a story about us getting together, I'd read some plotless pornographic out-of-character oneshot ...
Draco: WHAT?! Me, be written out of character? Who the fuck would do that? I'm perfect just the way I fucking am, I can't be written any other way!
Harry: So that you could the submissive, begging one on bottom ... I .. I mean, that's a popular choice. Not that I ever read that sort of thing while she's away from her computer, ahh ... not even sure where to find that ...
Draco: We should go find some, Harry. And then I'll track down the sick, twisted perverted authoresses and FLAME them, and then I'll ...
Harry: ... print it out for later ...
Draco: ... figure out her email address and spam her with links to stories in which you fuck the Weasel! Hell freakin' yeah! And then we'll hack into her muggle technology machine thing and open her stories and replace the names and with and , and then we'll ...
Harry: STOP! Just stop! Ron and ... me ... I think I feel sort of .. I'm gonna ..... ugggh, gods, be back, bathroom ...
Draco: Harry? Fine, but bring me back some of those Orneo cookies or whatever, I'm getting hungry! Did you hear me?! Awe, nevermind. As for you sick people ... well. I've picked up some certain information about how to send diseases to your muggle compusting machines, so beware! Review and I will HUNT YOU DOWN and fuck up your cybering space!
