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A/N: Oh Em Gee Liek whoa! another chapter! have fun! thanks to all who read!
special thanks to our lovely reviewers: jessahca, limeonyspiggot, soldierx, davy, riley, sazzy, and elenathegreat(times ten)
avery, michelle glomps you and wishes you lots of love and kisses
Huggles and Smoochies!
Michi and Elizarita
Harry Potter and the 'Magical' Muffin Mischief
Chapter 3: Operation Double Distribution: Muffin Mischief Commences
Harry rolled over groggily when the first light of morning streamed obtrusively and obnoxiously through the dorm window. He quickly sat up after feeling a hand that he had evidently rolled upon give his derriere a slight squeeze. Harry yelped and jumped off of the bed, landing upon a very startled Ron who was kneeling at his bedside. "Ron!" he exclaimed. "What were you doing? Did you grab my bum?"
"Wha-? OH oh, no no no, Harry darling! I was merely searching for some sustenance and figured that if I felt around in your bed I would surely find some old Cheese Nips or Teddy Grahams or something…" Ron lied.
"Oh, alright then," Harry replied, dug around under his pillow for a moment, and pulled out a half-eaten, not to mention moldy, salami, anchovy, and provolone sandwich. He handed it to Ron and headed to the boys' bathroom.
Ron looked around to make sure all his roommates had vacated the room before opening his wardrobe. He gazed down at a collection, a very horrifying shrine labeled with a sign written in messy handwriting that read "Ronald Weasley's Very Best Friends". He turned towards the "Harry" side and then petted the sandwich in his hand lovingly. "Oh Harry, you are too beautiful for words," he breathed as he placed the rotting sandwich next to the very Snitch that Harry had coughed up at his first Quidditch match and a signed photo of Harry's arm and Lockhart which he had nicked from Colin Creevey. He adoringly picked up every "Harry" item and gazed at it intently (the shattered remains of Harry's Nimbus 2000, every letter Harry had ever written to him, the cards from the Chocolate Frogs Harry gave him, his Omnioculars from Harry, the Chudley Cannons hat Harry bought him, pieces of Harry's hair that had been nicked from his hairbrush, a poorly drawn sketch of Harry's scar, every newspaper or magazine article about Harry that was ever written, the toothpick and tissue Harry's aunt and uncle had once given him for Christmas, a map of Harry's bedroom at his aunt and uncle's house, a list of the items in Harry's trunk, several of Harry's socks, a bit of the slime he had secretly picked off Harry's robes after coming out of the Chamber of Secrets, a pile of used Kleenex from when Harry had the flu, and the wrapper off of the muffin Harry had given him the previous day) before setting it down again.
He then turned to the "Hermione" side. He fished in his sock for a moment, pulled out a hair ribbon that she had worn the day before, and sniffed it before laying it tenderly among the other items. This particular collection included a rather racy, lacy, fancy pair of knickers, several chewed pieces of gum, an old Muggle library card, Hermione's driver's license, all the letters he had received from her, a picture of her bedroom, a map of the girls' dormitory, an old scarf of hers, a mold of Hermione's newly acquired "cancerous lumps" that he had only just made the night before as she slept, a chip off of one of her front teeth, some books that she had given him, a tube of her lip gloss that he sometimes wore for fun, several S.P.E.W. pins, a record of all of her grades, a messily written Granger family tree, an eyelash curler that he suspected was a torture device, a large pile of sugar-free sweets, a photo of her parents, a handkerchief with "HG" embroidered onto the corner, love letters that he had never sent to her, all the Quidditch signs she had ever made, several forks she had used, every single quill she had lent him, and her prefect badge. He shut the wardrobe carefully with a sigh and went about his morning routine.
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Draco decided that if Scar-boy and the Weasel were to be immediately his when they ate the muffins, he should dress with extra special care. He sifted through his wardrobe and finally pulled out a rather small pair of leather pants. "Perfect," he said, grinning. It took almost ten minutes for him to get them on, but it was worth it because he felt extremely satisfied with the way his arse looked in them. He shook it in front of the mirror and slapped it playfully, exclaiming, "Ooer, you are a sexy beast!" He donned a dark green shirt that he left halfway unbuttoned, revealing some of his amazing pectoral and astounding abdominal muscles. As an afterthought, he tapped his pants with his wand and they immediately turned silver. He picked up several muffins out of his stockpile, gave his hair a quick fluff, and set off to the Great Hall for breakfast.
Halfway to the Hall, Draco came to the uncomfortable realization that leather, when too tight, was not only painful but chafed as well. He walked down the corridor bow-legged, trying to cause as little friction as possible. "Dammit all!" he shouted frustratedly. "Why couldn't I have worn jeans for Merlin's sake?" He paused for a moment, then struck a pose and cooed, "Because I'm a Malfoy: upper class and downright sexy! Nothing is too highbrow for me!" He repeated his mantra several times and continued his awkward progress to breakfast.
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Harry and Ron eyed the breakfast before them dejectedly. Hermione, clucking over them like a buck-toothed mother hen, heaped impossible portions of food onto their plates (She herself ate only a piece of toast with her orange juice cough anorexia cough). Harry and Ron picked at their food glumly, shoving their breakfast around with their forks. They did not want to eat this sad excuse of a breakfast; they wanted one thing and one thing only: muffins.
So, when a certain muffin-making Slytherin strutted into the Great Hall, four or five muffins cradled in his arms, they turned to each other with looks of pure ecstasy on their faces. They jumped up hurriedly, upsetting Hermione's goblet of orange juice, and sprinted over to Malfoy.
Malfoy looked at them as a cow would an oncoming train and smirked to himself. Perfect. Operation Double Distribution was in motion.
"Oh no! What shall I do with all these excess muffins?" he sobbed sardonically.
Harry and Ron grinned at each other.
"Hey, Blondie, we'll take those muffins off your hands for you… that is, for a price," Ron said mischievously. ((A/N E: wait…shouldn't they be paying Malfoy for the muffins?))
"Name it, Weasly-poo," Blondie replied defiantly. Now reel them in for the kill.
"Give me the muffin first, then I'll tell you," Weasly-poo declared.
"No way."
"Yes way."
"Let me ask my sexiness…oh, too bad, it says, 'No,' too."
"Si!" ((A/N E: urgh I despise Spanish…mais, j'adore francais! "Yo amo espanol!" says Michi. ))
"AHHH! THE SPANISH! My ears cannot bear it! Fine! Take it!" Malfoy replied exasperatedly, grabbed the nearest muffin, and shoved it down the Spanish-speaking one's throat, orange and pink polka-dotted cellophane and all. He did the same with Scarhead, although he did kindly remove the cellophane for him before stuffing it down his Golden-Boy esophagus. The pair chewed obnoxiously for a moment, showering Draco with crumbs and bits of blueberry, then swallowed. Draco rolled his eyes in disgust and dusted off his clothes meticulously.
"So…Ron…what was it that you wanted?" Draco inquired as the two patted their stomachs contentedly.
"Your dad!" replied Ron.
"Ron," whispered Harry rather loudly, "the insult is 'your mom,' not 'your dad.'"
"No, I'm serious. I want Lucius, dammit!" Ron stomped his foot.
Draco's smile seemed frozen in place. "Uh, excuse me? You want what?"
"Actually, Lucius is more of a whom, Malfoy," Hermione interjected. She had suddenly butted-in in her bushy-haired way of butting in on conversations. Her 'cancerous lumps' were covered in orange juice. "Harry, you owe me a new shirt!" she snapped, rounding upon him and gesturing at her chest furiously. Her lumps positively jiggled with rage.
"Well, you know, Hermione…the orange really does help to hide the cancer…and the way the sun's glinting off of your overlarge incisors reminds me of white-blonde, long, heavenly Lucius hair floating in the breeze…" Ron leant forward towards Hermione's teeth and stroked them amorously. She stepped back, turned, and ran quickly out of the hall, Ron hot on her heels.
Draco watched this scene play out with a bemused smile. So…it seems that father has been using my hairbrush again…ah, well, this is amusing all the same. He soon realized that he was being watched, and turned to find Potter staring at him with great interest, and what appeared to be a hint of lust as well. He cracked an evil grin. Well, at least I got one of them…good, good. Vengeance will be sweet…not to mention Golden. He pretended not to notice Potter's attentions and turned to leave. He proceeded to 'back his thang up' out of the Great Hall. Potter followed him slowly, mesmerized, so Draco wiggled his ghetto-bootay all the way to the dungeons.
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The Gryffindors and Slytherins had Double Potions first this morning ((A/N E&M: OF COURSE they have Potions together, what kind of fanfic authoresses would we be if we passed up a chance to write about pairing Harry and Draco or missed an opportunity to write about dear Sevvy? …Bad ones. DUH)). The class settled noisily into their seats, giggling and discussing the latest gossip about Harry's 'magical' mental issues and Draco's newest hair-care routine (featured every two weeks in Witch Weekly).
The room grew abruptly silent as Professor Snape glided in. However, Ol' Sevvy had undergone some changes over the summer as well; he had become a male model. Snape stood in the doorway, pausing for effect, then reached up one hand gracefully and snapped twice. Loud, pumping techno music filled the room and he strutted his way to the front of the class, crossing one foot in front of the other as a proper model should. The class gaped at him. His robes were more formfitting, his shirt was halfway open, his hair was styled, and he was wearing boots. In short, he was damn sexy, and he knew it.
Snape reached the front of the classroom, turned, and flipped his hair several times. The class ooh-ed and ahh-ed at the beauty of it. He snapped his fingers once more and the music changed. Snape called out, "Bathing suit time!" and began to strip slowly to "I'm Too Sexy For My Shirt." He spun around several times so the class had a full view of his suit, flipped his hair once more, and stopped. He snapped three times and the music stopped as his clothes flew back onto his body. "Open your textbooks to page 212," he began in his normal tone, "and find a partner. We will be making de-frizzing potions today, seeing as there are some of you," he paused to shoot a glare at his 'favorite' insufferable know-it-all, then continued, "who obviously need it."
Ron grabbed both Harry and Hermione and sobbed, "But I want to both of you to be my partner!" He blew his nose on Harry's sleeve.
"Weasly! Five points from Gryffindor for being indecisive! And another five for ruining Harry's ensemble! And another five because I'm feeling rather generous today!" Snape shouted with a flick of his now luscious locks. "Pair off with Granger…I need to have a word with Potter," Snape commanded. Ron sulked as Hermione dragged him over to her cauldron.
Snape gave Harry a 'look.' Not just any look, a 'look' that had been featured in several ads in Witch Weekly and had gotten his face on the cover of Tumbling Cauldron magazine (the wizard equivalent of Rolling Stone). Harry swallowed, an odd feeling coming over him. Snape turned and ran in slow-motion to him, Baywatch style. Harry was mesmerized, not to mention practically drooling. Snape stopped in front of him, shook his lovely ebony tresses once more, and said, "Potter, over the past few years, your grades in my Potions class have been steadily declining. In order to keep your grades up to my standards, I'm afraid that I will have to administer private rem-"
"-EDIAL POTIONS LESSONS???!" Harry shouted, looking absolutely ecstatic. ((A/N: courtesy of Makani..."de-" "-TENTION?"))
Snape paused, comprehension dawning on his face. "Um, no, that won't be necessary, Mr. Potter. I shall just have Draco tutor you. Go on now, pair up with him and get started."
"Righto, Professor. Professor Snape. Snape, dear. Severus. Sevvy. Savvy? Haha, Sevvy, savvy?" Harry exclaimed, then skipped over to Malfoy's desk, swinging his cauldron and humming, "Aphrodite, don't forget me, Romeo and Juliet me, I wanna thing called LOOOOVE!" ((A/N M: I just saw Thoroughly Modern Millie! 96 hooray! My eyes are spinning with glee…Literally.))
Draco looked positively frightened at the notion of Potter helping him with a potion. So much so that he appeared ready to wet himself. Harry flopped down noisily beside Draco, and clanged his dirty cauldron down onto the desk, knocking Malfoy's sparkly, clean, ghetto-chic bejeweled cauldron to the floor. Draco drove to catch it before it hit the ground, cradled it adoringly, and glared up at Potter. Harry smiled back at him genially. Draco sighed dramatically. This was going to be a long class.