The story: the lovely selene_rain
offered gmail codes for anyone writing drabbles for an icon of hers which featered a prominent set of stiletto heels. "Extra credit if there are no girls involved."
I wrote my drabbles in honor of zionsstarfish
, and thediane
, respectively. :)
The Gryffindor sixth-years barged into the common room, still laughing over the way Goyle's face had looked when Seamus transfigured his drumstick into a live chicken right as he was about to take a bite out of it.
"Did you see the feathers
in his hair?" cackled Dean, punching Seamus on the arm for what must have been the 3rd or 4h time in as many minutes.
"Did you see the look on Malfoy's face?" said Harry, smirking.
"Goyle was shrieking and waving a flapping chicken at him!" howled Ron. "It was brilliant
"We gotta tell Neville," said Seamus in between fits of giggles. "He'll be so mad he missed it."
Neville, anyway?" asked Ron as he pushed open the door to their doorm room.
Instantly the laughter vanished as Ron stopped dead in the doorway. The others stared across the room in horror.
There stood Neville, his back turned to them as he fiddled with something on the floor.
"Erm..." said Harry, finally.
Neville finished adjusting the strap on his left pink stiletto, turned around, and blinked.
"What?" he said.
It wasn't entirely the most bizarre thing in the world to see Draco Malfoy come flying out of the castle howling with rage and shrieking like a banshee.
It was, however, slightly bizarre to see him sporting a giant red whelp on his forehead. Even more bizarre was the fact that when he met Potter coming up from the Quidditch pitch, he kept right on ranting and raving.
Potter stopped and tilted his head.
"That bloody bitch, I'll kill her!!!! I'll smother her with a pillow, I'll use her face for a punching sack, I'll put her in a roomful of boggarts, I'll--"
"What's with the dent, Malfoy?" said Potter, pointing to his forehead.
"PARKINSON!!!!" raged Malfoy, as if this one word summed up everything.
"Oh, d'she dump you?" said Potter. "So soon?"
me." Malfoy glared at Potter.
Potter raised an eyebrow. "I can see that."
"With a SHOE.
Potter, she hit
me with a shoe
Potter smirked at Malfoy openly. "Aha."
"A SHOE! CAN YOU BELIEVE THE NERVE OF THAT WOMAN! JUST BECAUSE I SAID I'D GOTTEN BETTER SEX FROM A DEAD THESTRAL SHE HIT ME WITH A PINK STILETTO HEEL!
I WONDER IF PARKINSON'S PARENTS KNOW THEY'VE RAISED A HELLCAT WITH NO BREEDING! WHEN I TELL MY MOTHER ABOUT THIS SHE'LL--"
Potter stepped forward and kissed Malfoy on the forehead, over the spot where the pink whelp burned.
Malfoy's cheeks turned pink and his eyes went very wide.
"Does it hurt?" said Potter.
"No," said Malfoy in a small voice.
"Then shut up, Malfoy," said Potter, grinning as he walked away.
It really was all Malfoy's fault.
Malfoy was the one who had insisted on popping the chocolate into his mouth even after
Harry had warned him it came from Weasley's Joke Shop. Malfoy was the one who had evinced no particular alarm when he swallowed, saying, "I wonder what this one does?"
It was Malfoy's fault that once he had gotten over the shock of what had happened to his hair, and Harry had convinced him to stop hiding under the covers of his bed (okay, so technically it was probably Harry's fault for letting Malfoy come into the Gryffindor boy's dormitory in the first place), Malfoy had gotten a glimpse of himself in the mirror and turned into a crooning, giddy nutcase.
"Malfoy," said Harry, when Malfoy returned from the girls' dormitory wearing a lavender dress, pink heels, and pink lipstick. "Er, you're not acting like yourself."
"No," said Malfoy, batting her eyelashes at Harry. "If I were myself I couldn't do this
It was all Malfoy's fault, because Harry couldn't possibly not
kiss back. Not when all he could think were LIPS!!
(but especially BREASTS!!!
), all of which was clearly Malfoy's fault, since there would be no kissing
had Malfoy stayed a boy like boys are supposed to.
The hurt look on Malfoy's face when Harry finally pulled away in shock and disgust and anger was also All Malfoy's Fault; and the fact that Harry missed the tingle of her strawberry-flavored lips on his own was also AMF; and the fact that the next morning Malfoy kissed him again, as a boy this time, was emphatically
"What the fuck was that for?" said Harry, wiping away the kiss once he'd shoved Boy!Malfoy away.
"You were angry about yesterday," spat Malfoy nastily. "There--now you have a real
reason to be mad."
"... Oh," said Harry. For a moment that made perfect sense in his brain. And then the moment passed, because he was reaching for Malfoy, tugging him forward, and kissing him harder.
After all, since everything was clearly All Malfoy's Fault, maybe staying mad forever wouldn't be such a bad thing.