A.N: I hope you get the not so subtle references here.
Slytherin Choir Class - Slytherins don't usually sing, but when they do, it's because they want to completely ridicule a certain Gryffindor.
It was late in the Slytherin common room, but Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe, and Goyle were all up, working hard. Draco and Pansy sat at one end of the room, completely engrossed in something they were writing, while Crabbe, and Goyle were working on charming a box full of badges.
Grinning stupidly, Crabbe clutched one of the badges in his hands and made his way over to Draco. "Hey, 'ow is this?" Crabbe grunted, waving the charmed badge in Draco's face.
Irritably, Draco turned to Crabbe. Upon looking at the badge, his face broke into a scowl. "Crabbe! Weasley is spelled 'W-E-A-S-L-E-Y' not 'W-E-S-L-Y!' Honestly, can't you two read?"
"Sorry, Dra-"
"I don't want to hear it," Draco snapped. "Fix this at once! Everything has to be perfect for the Quidditch match!"
Crabbe stalked away, ready to fix the badges with Goyle.
"Useless goons," Draco muttered under his breath. "Can't do anything right."
Pansy snickered softly, as she scribbled over the parchment with her quill. Then, turning to Draco she asked, "How's this for the second verse Draco? Weasley's mum is fat and ugly, and his dad's a useless loser, his house smells like a trash bin, that's why Slytherins all sing; Weasley is our King."
Draco stared at Pansy, disbelieving for several seconds before taking the parchment from her hands and tearing it into a million pieces. "That was absolute rubbish, Parkinson. Are you tone deaf? Or just stupid?" Draco stood up from his seat and threw his hands above his head in frustration. "Why must I always be surrounded by incompetent morons! I can't work in these conditions!"
"I'm sorry, Draco, I'll try harder next time!" Pansy said at once.
Draco sighed and ran a hand through his platinum blonde locks, before sitting down. "Then let's work."
A few moments later, Blaise Zabini came down into the common room, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "What are you screaming about now, Draco?"
"We're composing a song to mock Weasley at the Quidditch match. This way, there's no way we'll lose the match!" Draco said, smirking as he scribbled down the next verse to his song.
"And we've got matchin' badges!" Goyle said, proudly showing off the badge he was working on.
Blaise blinked tiredly at Draco. "It's 3 in the morning."
"Your point?" Draco asked.
"Can't you bully the Gryffindors some other time?" Blaise asked.
Draco sneered over at Blaise. "No I can not bully the Gryffindors some other time! The Quidditch match is in two days! We have to write the song tonight, so we can teach it to the rest of the Slytherins tomorrow, and be ready for the game! Imagine how foolish we'll look if we didn't have the song ready by then!"
Blaise rolled his eyes. "I hope this isn't going to be like the last time you had a brilliant plan to win a Quidditch match."
Draco scowled at the reminder of the time he, Crabbe, and Goyle dressed up as Dementors to scare Potter at the Quidditch game.
"That was different," Draco said.
"Whatever," Blaise said. "Can I read the lyrics so far?"
Draco smirked. "Be my guest."
Blaise went over and scanned his eyes over the parchment with the lyrics on it. "Weasley is our King?"
Draco nodded eagerly. "Yeah, it's ironic, see? We're calling him our king, because he's bad at Quidditch and always lets the Slytherins win!"
"I see," Blaise said.
"Pay special attention to the second verse," Draco said. "It's rather good."
"And we've got matchin' badges!" Goyle exclaimed happily, waving a badge in his hand.
"Well," Blaise said once he finished reading the lyrics. "Are you about done? It's awfully hard to sleep when your screaming down here, Draco."
"Oh, yes we should be about done," Draco said, smirking. "Ah, I can almost see Potter's stupid face once we beat him."
Draco contorted his face into a mad look, causing Pansy to shriek with laughter.
"Tell the Slytherins all to meet in here tomorrow after class, Blaise," Draco said. "It's bullying time."
XXX
"Attention everyone!" Draco Malfoy stood on top of a table, as he faced the entirety of Slytherin House, all sitting in the common room. "I'm sure you've all heard of my brilliant idea to mess with the Gryffindors. Well, I've gathered you all today to teach you the song I've written. Pansy, come here!"
Pansy stood up and walked over towards Draco.
"Pass these out," Draco said, handing a copy of the song lyrics and a matching badge for each of the Slytherins.
As the badges and lyrics were passed out, mutterings of "Weasley is our king?" passed through the room.
"Yes, Weasley is our king. It sounds a bit odd, but it's actually ironic," Draco explained, as he fastened his own 'Weasley is our King' button to his robes.
"Okay, so the song starts on G and goes like this-" Draco broke off into humming the tune of the song. "Got it?"
Murmurs of assent went through the room.
"Great!" Draco said. "Then, let's all sing in 1, 2, 3-"
The Slytherins all burst into song at that, but they didn't even get to make it to the third line before Draco stopped them.
"Stop, stop, stop!" Draco cried. "That was awful! The sopranos are overpowering the tenors, and the altos are completely out of key! Let's do it again, but this time try to make it sound like an actual song!"
After Draco's count off, the Slytherins sang again, but again, Draco cut them off.
"No!" Draco yelled, stomping his foot on the table. "You all are utter rubbish at singing! Sing from your stomach not your throat, you hellians!"
Again and again, the Slytherins sang, and again and again Draco cut them off, getting more and more annoyed by the second.
"Argh! That was revolting! I bet Potter could sing better than you people- no- I bet Potter's parents could sing better than you, and they're rotting away six feet underground!" Draco screamed, glaring at the Slytherins around the room. "Again!"
The Slytherins barely got to open their mouths before Draco stopped them.
"Are you guys trying to embarrass me in front of Potter tomorrow? You lot sound like you're being crucioed!"
The Slytherins were growing more and more frustrated every time Draco stopped them. Finally, after what felt like the thirteen hundredth time Draco yelled at them, Blaise snapped. "Maybe we wouldn't sound so bad if Pansy had an ounce of talent. Honestly, my throat hurts just listening to her!"
Pansy gasped, offended. "Oh, I sound bad, do I? That's rich coming from you, Zabini! I can barely hear myself over the sound of your horrid voice! You sound like a dying hippogriff!"
"Hey, people, pay attention!" Draco called over the loud argument.
"At least I'm not as bad as Crabbe!" Blaise said, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "He can barely speak English, the idiot, so in what universe could he ever sing?"
"Stop this, we have to keep practicing for tomorrow!" Draco called.
"Least 'M better than Goyle!" Crabbe said, glaring at the boy.
Goyle grunted angrily.
"Hey!" Draco yelled, but it was too late. The Slytherin choir class became the Slytherin Fight Arena. All of the Slytherins viciously went at each other, both through their nasty words, and their harmful fists.
Draco, still standing on the table, watched as all order faded and his choir became complete savages; Biting, kicking, punching, bleeding, squirming, flailing.
Draco felt extremely angry at his House Mates. Not able to take it any longer, he whipped out his wand, pointed it to his throat and whispered, "Sonorus." Then, once his voice was amplified he yelled, "ENOUGH!"
Instantly, the Slytherins stopped and turned to Draco, mid fight.
Breathing heavily, Draco said, "Well, you did it. You took my one chance in happiness... and crushed it! Crushed it into little, tiny, bite-size pieces. I really had expected better of you people. I guess I'm a loser for that, too. Don't bother showing up to the match tomorrow. I'll just tell them you all died in an unrelated accident. So, thanks. Thanks for nothing!"
With that, Draco stormed out of the room.
"You're welcome," Blaise called after him.
Pansy removed her fist from Goyle's face, and turned to face the rest of the Slytherins. "What kind of monsters are we? That poor creature came to us in his hour of need, and we failed him. Draco's always been there for us when it was convenient for him! Goyle, when your pet toad was trapped in that Fiend Fire, who rescued him?"
"An Auror," Goyle grunted.
Pansy turned to Crabbe, "And Crabbe, when your heart gave out from all that food, who revived you?"
"Some guy at St. Mungos," Crabbe grunted.
"Right," Pansy nodded. "So, if we can all just pretend that Draco was an Auror, or some guy in at St. Mungos, then I'm sure that we can all pull together and discover what it truly means to bully the Gryffindors through song!"
When she put it that way, the Slytherins couldn't help but see the joy in it. No Slytherin would ever pass up the chance to bully a Gryffindor through song! They all cheered for Pansy's speech.
Pansy flashed a grin, and stood up on the table, where Draco stood just moments ago. "Now let's make Draco proud. A 1, a 2, a skiddly diddly doo."
XXX
Draco lay in his bed up in his dorm, listening to the faint sounds of the Slytherins practicing his song. Smiling faintly, Draco realized that maybe not all hope was lost.
Thinking again of the look on Potter's face when he saw what the Slytherins had been up to, Draco drifted off into a peaceful sleep.