A/N: This story was conceived during a rather colorful conversation with my BFF, TeenTypist. I don't own Draco Malfoy or any other ideas/characters borrowed from Harry Potter. Additionally, I don't own the song lyrics, either.

Draco Malfoy, Insulter Extraordinaire.

Draco Malfoy, Torturer of the Weak.

Draco Malfoy, Master of Finders-Keepers.

You're damn right I am, he thought to himself. Now how will I amuse myself today?

Draco prowled the halls arrogantly priding himself on his ability to make others suffer. He never wasted an opportunity to practice. Not that he needed practice, mind you. He is a Malfoy after all and was obviously born with superior talents. He passed three second-year girls.

No, too easy. Making girls cry isn't sport. I'm a gentleman. A very good looking gentleman.

He hunted through the lesser-used halls hoping to find lost little first years. His search paid off rather quickly.

Two first years. Boys. Hufflepuffs. Perfect. Almost too easy. He contemplated moving on to targets more worthy of his talents, but a snake likes tiny mice as much as fat mice.

Draco leaned back against the wall, idly tapping his wand against his forearm. "You do know what hallway this is, don't you?" he asked.

"N-no," the smaller one stuttered.

"It's called the Hexing Hallway," Draco smirked.

"There's no such thing," the chubby one stated bravely.

"Oh, really?" Serpensortia "Then how did those snakes end up at your feet?"

And to think Crabbe scoffed at silent incantations. Not even that filthy Granger Mudblood could match this skill.

Both boys squealed, and Draco laughed. Tubby tried to jump on Tiny, knocking them both over. Draco levitated the wands from their pockets before either had even thought of using them. Draco considered making the snakes slither over them but decided that was just too easy. With an imperceptible flick of his wand he spun the snakes into the air. They cascaded onto the boys, transforming to spatters of mud. The Hufflepuffs skidded as they squirmed their way to standing. The muck squelched their feet in place as they tried to back away from the Slytherin. Mud spatters changed to locusts. They swarmed after the boys as they ran down the hallway when their feet were freed. Their wands followed, poking them unceremoniously.

Draco looked curiously at a white object that had fallen from Tiny's bag and was now bouncing across the floor. He picked it up but almost dropped it as it prickled uncomfortably against his skin. Almost. Malfoys are not afraid of odd tactile sensations.

Damn Muggles and their filthy eclectrickity. Can't even do magic. What a waste of existence.

Draco was tempted just to smash the item but was far too curious to know what it did. He put it in his pocket instead.

XX

Draco stepped out of the shower with a towel around his waist. He posed in front of the mirror and admired himself. He ran his fingers through his hair to push each perfect blond strand into place. Once back in the dorm room, he picked up his folded clothes (one must keep things wrinkle free) and put them on. He brushed off invisible lint from his sleeves as he walked to class.

Draco had forgotten about the mysterious white gadget until it dropped from his pocket when he headed to dinner. One side of it flashed with light as it bounced on the stone floor. He would have jumped back, but a Malfoy is never startled. He wrapped his sleeve over his hand before picking it up. He was definitely not afraid to touch it, but one never knows what kind of Muggle filth it had been contaminated with. He hid the offensive item in his pocket and strode arrogantly into the Hall as though he weren't smuggling Muggle nastiness. He smirked when the Slytherin table's plates filled themselves.

"That is the reason Wizards are superior to Muggles," he boasted.

"Good biscuits?" Goyle said around a mouthful of food. Crumbs fell disgustingly from his mouth to the front of his robes.

"No, you stupid arse, plates that fill themselves. Muggles and their stupid repeated trips to the kitchens, tracking dirt everywhere. Idiots," Draco scoffed. He proceeded to Muggle-bash for the remainder of the meal. Coming from anyone else, it would have seemed like compensation for a guilty conscience, but Malfoys don't feel guilt and they certainly don't have reasons to compensate for anything.

XX

Late that evening, Draco sauntered quietly along the darker corridors. After all, he preferred the darkness. He certainly wasn't skulking about in the shadows. Malfoys never lower themselves to such common activities. He paced back and forth until the Room of Requirement showed its doors. With a dramatic flourish of his wand, he magicked them open.

Settled inside, he extracted the Muggle contraption from his pocket with a green and silver handkerchief. Cleanliness first. He set the odd object on the ground. Nothing good comes from mixing with Muggles. Just look at the Weasleys. The epitome of disgrace.

He considered stomping on it. However, Malfoys do not stomp like petulant children. They obliterate with superb magic like the talented Wizards they are. He hesitated. No, contemplated, never hesitated. Damn this curiosity. He still didn't know what to do with it. He squatted down to take a better look. The light was off again. First things first. He aimed his wand and muttered a spell. Nothing happened. Surely this stupid Muggle thing must be broken. It certainly wasn't a problem with his spellwork. Perhaps it only lights up when dropped.

"Wingardium Leviosa." With a swish and flick, the Muggle garbage rose. With another, it fell. It skittered across the floor. It lit up, but didn't do anything else. Draco still had no idea what it was for. He levitated and dropped it again, hoping it would do something else. It didn't, but when it fell at his feet he saw writing amidst the light. Maybe those stupid first years had a far superior Wizard charm this damn thing.

Pointing his wand again, he shouted the words from the screen. Nothing. Fed up, he jabbed the piece of shit with his wand. He definitely didn't jump when noise came out, and he certainly didn't fall over when the room spun around him.

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