Warning(s): Shamelessly steals from all kinds of pop culture. Any resemblance to Harry Potter canon is purely coincidental.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Length: 11K words
Summary: Because Dumbledore is an evil old coot, it's the Dark Side versus the Wildcats, the ultimate showdown. Featuring Rastafarian Hufflepuffs, a deranged chihuahua, public snogging, a disillusioned Snape, junior Death Eaters and crack. Lots of crack.
Note: Thank you to ldymusyc for certain clothing choices and tangleofthorns for Snape's rap.
Concrit: Always welcome and appreciated.
On the first Sunday of his seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Draco "Death Drake" Malfoy contemplated his pitiful existence.
There was a fly on the ceiling of the boys' dormitory. As Draco lay there in that morning stillness, he drew a variety of unflattering comparisons between himself and the unsuspecting insect.
Lucius "Sunshine" Malfoy had had big plans for his future after he'd got out of Hogwarts many years ago. He'd thought that marrying Narcissa Black would have secured him a position amongst the crème de la crème of wizarding society. How wrong he had been. Narcissa's parents had disowned their daughter for marrying a gold-digger. Lucius Malfoy was a pure-blood, sure, but he had been poor; not a good match for a Black heiress. Narcissa, however, had loved her Sunshine and went willingly into exile with him. Draco had been the fruit of their forbidden love, born just over seventeen years ago in their dinky little London apartment two blocks away from Kings Cross station.
Draco's childhood had been relatively uneventful. His mother baked Cauldron Cakes and sold them for a pittance to the hookers working Knockturn Alley. Draco's father drove the Knight Bus. The job took a lot out of him and most nights, Lucius was too tired to spend time with his son. He also didn't have much time to spend with his wife, which was probably why Draco remained an only child. Lucius's salary was just enough to cover their monthly expenses, and Draco hadn't even thought that he'd be able to go to Hogwarts, but luckily, Lucius took up with the Dark Lord, became a Death Eater and was able to secure an additional income that way. His father's sacrifice was the reason Draco could even attend this school.
On his very first day of school, Draco vowed that he would be a good student and he would soak up everything he could learn like a sponge. When he became Minister for Magic, Draco would make sure that his parents never needed to work another day in their lives. Father's Death Eater activities had ended badly; he'd only been able to get away from the law on a mere technicality, involving an ancient law that exempted public service workers -- and a Knight Bus driver was a public service worker -- from responsibility in any scenarios involving evil overlords. Draco threw off his blanket and sat up, forgetting about the stupid fly on the ceiling. He wondered what time it was.
He got out of bed and walked over to the bathroom, oblivious of his dormitory mates' loud snores and occasional whimpers. After brushing his teeth and moisturising, Draco glared at his reflection. He was pointy, blond and bitter. But also gorgeous, mustn't forget that. Poor and perfect, with eyes like the sea after a storm. In fact, the only person more gorgeous than Draco in all of Hogwarts was Harry "The Man" Potter. As it always is in these sorts of stories, the two boys hated each other. Draco had tried to become friends with Potter aboard their first trip on the Hogwarts Express, but he had underestimated the evil man-child Weasley, who had clearly cast a Confundus Charm on Potter sometime during the trip. Ever since that day, Potter seemed to think that Draco was rich and spoiled. Draco shook his head and stalked out of the bathroom, making sure his hair was in place just so.
He had made so many attempts to get Potter's attention throughout their years at Hogwarts, it was inconceivable. Inconceivable! But every time Draco tried to establish contact, something would backfire and Draco ended up looking like a royal prat. He had given up trying to make friends with Potter after all, instead choosing to try and make Potter's life as difficult as possible; to be a thorn in his side. Draco liked it when Potter got angry; his green eyes would flash dangerously and they were ever so pretty when they did that. Alas, it was true. Draco was hopelessly smitten with Harry Potter while Potter had no clue whatsoever. He'd never have a clue, either, not if Draco could help it. Just because he wanted to shag his enemy senseless didn't mean he had to like him. Draco loathed Potter and everything he stood for: truth, justice, and the Gryffindor way.
During their sixth year, The Upturned Cauldron, a popular wizarding band, had visited Hogwarts. It was the only hip hop band in the wizarding world and after they had left, the school had been on fire. Draco, as the designated Slytherin poet (he had composed a rather clever song to unsettle the Gryffindors during a fifth-year Quidditch match), immediately became the designated leader of the Slytherin hip hop crew. He and his Slytherin mates - Blaise "Bizzy" Zabini, Malcolm "Shifty" Baddock, Gregory "SneakEZ" Goyle, Theodore "Poof" Nott, Vincent "Kon Man" Crabbe - formed the Dark Side, Slytherin Emcees. They were sworn enemies to the Gryffindor Wildcats - Ron "Da King" Weasley, Hermione "Missy" Granger, Seamus "The Saint" Finnigan, Dean "Artistik" Thomas and Neville "Day-Day" Longbottom, all led by none other than Harry Potter.
When Draco got back to the dormitory, his mates were already awake. Draco quickly put on a smirk and started slouching. Mustn't forget to let everyone know how cool he was. Draco was, by all accounts, the coolest person in Slytherin and he intended to keep it that way. He turned to Blaise, who was sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows on thighs, staring at his morning wood.
"Got your shit together, Bizzy?" asked Draco, smirking.
"Not enough to have to wake up to your face, Drake."
Draco hated that nickname. It was Death Drake or nothing, thank you very much. "Suck air," he remarked conversationally. "Hey, SneakEZ. Man, you look just like I feel," he added, looking at Goyle, who was rubbing his eyes vigorously.
Goyle grunted. Crabbe echoed the sentiment. The boys got washed and dressed quickly and filed out into the common room, where Millicent Bulstrode stood by the fireplace, wearing a black bandanna and an expression of extreme intolerance.
"Hey, Millicent," drawled Draco with a sly grin, "Have you ever been mistaken for a man?"
Millicent pursed her lips. "No. Have you?"
"You know, Millie, I've been saying the same thing to you every morning, hoping you'll come up with a different retort the next time around. Why must you disappoint me so?"
"Pendejo," said Millicent affectionately.
"Still think you're Spanish?" asked Theodore, making eyes at her.
Millicent sneered at him. "I'm not in the mood, Poof."
The common room door slid open with a loud thud and Theodore didn't get a chance to respond. Professor Snape, Hogwarts Potions master and head of Slytherin house, stood in the doorway, glaring at no one in particular. Draco attempted to hide behind Millicent.
"Draco, I need to see you in my office," said Snape, looking murderous.
Draco sighed. "I'll be right there, Professor," he said, hoping that Snape would bugger off.
"Now," said Snape in a tone that brooked no argument.
Draco's shoulders slumped. "Fine, fine," he muttered, and walked over to the doorway. Snape turned and headed down the dungeon hallway, not bothering to look behind him. Draco cast a dejected look over his shoulder. His mates looked sympathetic but powerless. Draco sighed again and followed Snape.
When he arrived in Snape's office, the professor was sitting at his enormous desk with his feet up. Draco shut the door behind himself and slumped against the wall. "You wanted to see me, Professor?"
There was an extended silence during which Draco stared down at his feet and legs. His trainers were worn and scuffed; his faded jeans had grass stains all over them from last night's impromptu wrestling match with Shifty out on the Quidditch pitch. Draco never wrestled with people his own size; too easy to lose that way. Shifty was a fourth-year and therefore easy to defeat.
When Snape broke the silence, Draco jumped a little.
"Draco. You weren't abused, you aren't stupid and you're only slightly psychotic -- so what the hell is your problem?"
Draco sniffed. He was smart, poor and tragic. He was Snape's favourite student and Snape knew it, dammit.
"Draco, look at me."
Draco looked up. Snape was glaring at him.
"You exposed yourself to a group of first-year girls yesterday."
"It was a sausage. I was eating lunch."
"You mean the zip on your trousers was eating lunch."
Draco assumed a petulant expression. "It was only a bit of fun."
Snape sighed. "Fine. Whatever, man. Just... whatever. Here, want to hear my new rhyme?"
Draco eyed him sceptically. Snape had noticed his charges' fascination with rhyming last year and had demanded that Draco teach him the basics. Well, it was either hear the rhyme or get detention. "Hit me," said Draco. He folded his bare arms across his white wife-beater-clad chest and stared at Snape.
Snape heaved his legs off the desk, got up, paced the length of the back wall once and then stopped, clearing his throat.
Since birth I've been forced by this curse
To just work for these jerks,
Dumbledore, and that Potter is worse,
If they died, I could rest again peacefully
But at least have the decency in you
To leave me alone when you brats see me out of the class,
When I'm spying or trying to sleep--
Do not come and SPEAK to me!
I can't stand you,
And no, I won't hand you a single inch of slack
You're always a bother, I hated your father,
I'm not trying to kill you, so get off my back!
If you cross me, my wand can be deadly.
I've done it already, and been cleared
I don't fear who can hear or who saw me destroy you,
So call the headmaster! Call me a bastard!
I'll lie to the Order, and five points from Gryffindor!
I'm tired of ALL of you!
I don't care if your parents were hexed, or who's next,
I'm just vexed--
And I am whatever you say I am,
if I wasn't, then why would I say I am?
In the Prophet, the news--ask J.K., I am.
Indeed, Potter, it's the way I am...
Draco had had enough. Nothing like mentions of Potter this early in the morning to put him off his breakfast. "Yeah, you're getting better," he interrupted. "So is it helping?"
Snape looked peeved, but sat back down. "Well, I guess I don't feel as angry anymore," he said with a thoughtful grimace.
Draco frowned. "Well, that's no good."
Snape cocked an eyebrow at him. "Why not?"
"How are you going to engage in Potter Torture if you aren't angry all the time?" asked Draco, squaring his shoulders and tilting his head to one side.
"Good point," said Snape, eyebrow back in place. "Anyway, that wasn't why I asked you to come here, really. I didn't want to give you detention so there's something else I'd like you to do to atone for yesterday's spectacle."
Draco let out a long-suffering sigh. "You're not going to ask me to pass on any more messages to my father, are you?"
Snape shook his head with a look of irritation. "Don't worry. Lucius and I have - ah - come to a mutual understanding since our last exchange of letters."
"Good. So what is it that you want me to do?"
Snape rose once again and pulled back a curtain at the back of his office with a flourish worthy of Gilderoy Lockhart. Behind the curtain stood a dumpy, mousey-haired girl about Draco's age. She would have looked average if it hadn't been for her eyes, the whites of which weren't white at all, they were purple.
"Meet Mary Shunpike. Mary, this is Draco Malfoy."
Draco stared at her. "Shunpike as in..." Stanley Shunpike was the richest man in the wizarding world.
The girl nodded. "Shunpike Manor," she said in a squeaky voice. "Nice to meet you. I'm Mary Shunpike and I'm a gratuitous plot device."
Draco blinked at her. "Huh?"
Snape tugged on Mary's arm, forcing her to come out of the alcove behind the curtain. "Mary is going to attend Hogwarts this year. She's Stanley Shunpike's younger sister, transferred here from Shunpike Centre for Special Children," Snape said quickly. "Apparently she wasn't 'special' enough," he added in an undertone so only Draco could hear. He sat back down in his chair and continued speaking loudly. "Mary's been sorted into Slytherin at Mr Shunpike's explicit request. Since you are the seventh-year prefect -- in name only or not -- I'd like you to spend this lovely Sunday with her and show her around Hogwarts."
Draco straightened up a little. This wasn't too bad. "Right. I'm Draco 'Death Drake' Malfoy. You may not use any other nicknames under pain of death. You hear me knockin'?"
Mary blinked. "Um. No? You were talking, not knocking."
"Not too bright, are you? It's an expression. What's wrong with your eyes, anyway?"
Mary sniffed and looked from Draco to Snape, then back again. "Stanley fed me too many blueberries when I was a baby."
Draco gave her a once-over. "Have you got a nickname, then?"
"Um. No?" she said, and batted her eyelashes. "I have a middle name!"
Draco rolled his eyes. "All right, you'll be Pink, got that?"
Mary nodded fervently, grinning broadly at him. Clearly, she was overwhelmed by Draco's dazzling personality.
"Come on, Pink," Draco said, nodding at Snape. "Let me show you the wonderful and exciting world of Hogwarts."
Draco and Mary navigated their way through a maze of twisty little passages, all alike.
"So what are the Hogwarts Houses?" asked Mary. She was having trouble keeping up with Draco's wide, manly strides.
"Well, there's Slytherin, which is the best house hands down," said Draco. "We're cunning and ambitious. Also subtle, naysayers be damned. Then there's Gryffindor - they're foolhardy, sanctimonious prats. Especially that capital wanker, Potter."
"What about the other houses - Ravenpuff and Huffleclaw, is it?"
Draco smirked. "Oh, them. They're not very important. Everyone knows it's all about the Gryffindors and the Slytherins. Anyway, you won't find Hogwarts any different than your old school. Same little arsewipe motherfuckers as everywhere."
"Well, it will be quite different, I daresay. There are a lot more people here, for one," said Mary.
Draco glanced at her as they passed through a well-lit corridor that led back to the Slytherin common room. "How many people went to your old school?"
"Eighteen," replied Mary with a wide-eyed look on her face.
Draco stopped and stared at her. "Get out!"
Mary giggled. "How many people go here?"
"A thousand or so, though some would have you believe it's more like a few hundred, most of them evil," said Draco and resumed walking.
They reached the Slytherin common room in silence. Before Draco said the password, he turned and looked down at Mary. Her eerie purple eyes were as wide as ever.
"You don't talk much, do you?" murmured Draco. "That's okay by me. Most people do a lot of talking and they wind up not saying very much."
Mary gave him a strange smile. "I told you I was a plot device."
"Whatever," said Draco, shaking his head. "Snakebite," he said to the common room door, which slid open.
The common room was deserted except for a group of younger Slytherins huddled in a corner, wearing hoods and whispering in urgent voices.
"Looks like everyone's gone to breakfast," remarked Draco. He indicated the group to Mary with a wave of his hand. "Those are the junior Death Eaters."
Mary gasped. "Wow, really?"
"No, they just wank off to posters of You-Know-Who," said Draco.
"But didn't Harry Potter defeat You-Know-Who last year?" Mary looked puzzled.
Draco waved his hand dismissively. "Details... Potter didn't do a very good job the first time, who's to say he's not coming back?"
Mary's eyes were as huge as saucers. "But didn't they do some sort of ritual where the spirits from Beyond confirmed that he was really dead?"
"Oh, the old 'Please Don't Panic, He's Really Very Dead' spectacle. Yeah, I guess. No one's buying it though," said Draco. The junior Death Eaters had stopped whispering and were giving the two of them mutinous looks. Draco turned to face Mary. "Well, this concludes our tour of the common room. Pansy -- she's the girl prefect -- will show you the girls' dormitories later tonight; boys aren't allowed in there. Let's go to the Great Hall, we might catch the tail end of breakfast."
On the way there, Draco explained how the Great Hall ceiling worked. Just as they emerged into the entrance hall, they were accosted by Seamus Finnigan, who was wearing a long trench coat.
"Oh, fresh meat," remarked Seamus with a leer at Mary. He flung his trench coat open. It was lined with multiple pockets that held various bottles, boxes, and suspicious-looking bags. "I've got all sorts of entertainment, little lady. Firewhisky, Hubertus's Happy Powder, Weasleys' Adult Wheezes, Mr Frisky's Stamps--"
"Shut it, Finnigan," said Draco. "Or I'll report you for trying to corrupt Slytherins."
"Chew on a prick, Malfoy," sneered Seamus. "You're the last person who should be concerned about anyone corrupting anyone else."
Draco scowled at him and put an arm around Mary's shoulders. "This, Pink, is what a Gryffindor looks like. Come on, before he corrupts you further."
Mary giggled and leant into Draco. He shuddered and let go of her, pretending to need both hands to open the doors to the Great Hall, which was deserted. "No breakfast then," Draco muttered. "All right, let's go to the library."
"Oh, Hogwarts has a library? How exciting!" said Mary, trying to keep pace as Draco strode up the large marble staircase.
When they were walking across a landing on the second floor to reach the staircase that would take them to the library, a small but ferocious-looking chihuahua barred their way. Its fangs were bared and it was growling. Draco lifted an arm, as though intending to backhand the creature. It continued to growl but got out of the way. Draco cursed under his breath. Now the damned thing would follow them until they left the castle.
Draco turned to Mary. "That used to be Mrs Norris, the caretaker's cat."
Mary gasped. "What happened to it?"
"Potter was in one of his famous fits of anger and transfigured it into a chihuahua. Now its name is Mr Happy, which is really a misnomer since it's just as foul as ever."
"You don't like Harry Potter very much, do you, Draco?"
Draco gave her a sidelong glance. "How can you tell?" he said bitterly.
They alighted in front of the library and Draco swung open the large doors, letting Mary go in front. Madam Pince the librarian was sitting at her desk, buffing her long blood-red nails and bobbing her head in tune with a wizarding boom box.
"Wow," said Mary with her head thrown back as she obviously tried to take in everything she saw. "So many books!"
"Who cares," spat Pince. "Books are for fags."
Draco shook his head. "Books are for fags. I weep for the future."
"Hello!" came a cheerful voice from Draco's right. He turned around and saw Terry Boot, who was wearing a plastic smile and holding a large book with "DON'T PANIC" on the cover.
"Who are you?" asked Mary, looking at Terry with wide eyes.
Terry sat up a little. "I'm the token Ravenclaw," he said proudly. "I'm in the library 'cause this is where all the 'Claw dawgs be at."
Draco sniffed. "Wannabe poser," he muttered. "Come on," he said loudly to Mary. "We can't hang out here all day."
On their way out, Mary cast a glance over her shoulder at Terry, who was once again immersed in his book. "So what about the Hufflepuffs? Where to they hang out? What do they eat?"
Draco ignored the question. It was better if Mary was introduced to the wonders of Hogwarts one thing at a time, he reasoned. "Let me see your timetable?"
Mary handed him a piece of parchment with a puzzled look on her face. Draco studied her timetable. "Well, excellent. Pansy will be able to show you to all your lessons, you have the same timetable as her."
Mary sniggered. "Isn't that ever so convenient? I love being a plot device!"
"Uhm, okay," said Draco, frowning at her. "Let's go outside; I'll show you the greenhouses."
They made their way back down a series of staircases and through numerous tapestries. Mary looked thoroughly lost by the time they walked out into the lovely September sunshine. Draco smirked, leading her through the courtyard. Clueless newbie. As they neared the greenhouses, Draco noticed Dean Thomas standing near greenhouse one, shaking something vigorously in his right hand. Dean took a quick look over his shoulder and began to spray-paint a very authentic-looking cock onto the greenhouse wall.
"How very mature, Thomas," shouted Draco. "I guess Finnigan is a great inspiration to you, isn't he?"
Dean stopped painting and turned around. "I guess you haven't heard the news, Malfoy? You wouldn't be acting so cocky if you had?"
Draco stopped dead in his tracks and narrowed his eyes. "What the hell are you talking about? What news?"
"I'll let you find out for yourself, dipshit," said Dean, smirking.
With a snarl, Draco whipped out his wand and advanced on him. Dean held up his hands and backed up against the wall. "Don't hate, congratulate!"
Draco glanced at Mary, who looked terrified. He jabbed his wand into Dean's chest. "You're lucky she's here, pal. Or you'd be so," -- he poked his wand into Dean's chest again -- "fucking," -- he pressed the tip of his wand even further -- "dead."
Dean didn't look very scared, but Draco's hands were tied. He didn't want Mary Shunpike to tell her rich brother that Draco Malfoy was a psychotic killer. He'd need Stan Shunpike's support when he made the bid for a Ministry job, after all. He rolled his shoulders and looked at Dean, who had in the meantime gone back to spray-painting the wall. There was an imprint of a silver cock all across the back of his T-shirt. Draco elbowed Mary in the side and pointed. The girl began to giggle and didn't stop until they were passing greenhouse three.
The door to the greenhouse banged open and Neville "Day-Day" Longbottom strode out, wearing a bright orange jumpsuit and a stupid smile.
"Get outta my way, Day-Day," growled Draco.
Neville's smile widened. "Tiiiiiiime is on my side. yes it is," he said in a sing-song voice. He pulled out an enormous joint from the front pocket of his jumpsuit. Lifting it to his nose, he sniffed it with gusto. "I'm calling it Longbottom Leaf. Now I'mma show you the real Puff Daddy." With that, he proceeded to light the joint using his wand tip.
Draco pulled Mary by the arm. "C'mon. He's stuck on 'stupid' again. Don't choke on it, Day-Day."
Neville promptly began to choke on the smoke. "Are you threatening me?" he croaked between wheezes, his eyes watering.
Draco shook his head. "God, this place is going to the dogs."
Mary looked fearful. Draco gave her an indulgent smile. "Before you ask, yes, both of these clowns are Gryffindors. I hope you understand what I meant now, about the foolhardy part."
The girl nodded, her purple eyes sparkling brightly in the lovely sunshine. Seriously creepy. They made their way to the Quidditch pitch in silence. Draco wondered what Dean had meant - was there actually news or was Dean just having him on? As they approached the pitch, Draco lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight.
"You asked about Hufflepuffs," he said, turning to Mary. "There's two of them." He indicated the section of stands nearest to them, where a thick cloud of smoke hovered in the air, two pairs of legs sticking out from under it. As Draco and Mary approached the stands, they could see two heads swaying back and forth in the smoke.
It was Ernie Macmillan and his best friend Hannah Abbott. Both had dreadlocks, only while Hannah's were her own, Ernie's were obviously fake.
"Peace, my brother," said Ernie to Draco.
"Fucking stoners," remarked Draco, not unkindly. At least these two didn't go out of their way to be mean to Slytherins.
Hannah beamed at Mary. "You're a freedom fighter. Be proud, sister."
Mary looked up at Draco, her eyes even more purple than usual. "What do I say?" she whispered.
Draco pursed his lips. "Don't worry. As soon as we're gone, they'll forget we were ever here. C'mon," he said.
"Peace!" called Ernie and Hannah after them, in unison.
Draco dragged Mary along; the girl kept turning around and staring at the Hufflepuffs. "So this is the famous Hogwarts Quidditch pitch," said Mary after a moment.
"That's right," said Draco, adjusting his wife beater slightly. "And you're talking to the best damn Seeker Hogwarts has ever seen."
"But I heard that Harry Potter--"
"FUCK Potter," snarled Draco. He caught himself and smiled. "He cheats."
Mary's lips formed an "o" of surprise. "Wow, the Gryffindors are really awful people, aren't they?"
"Now you're talking," said Draco, squaring his shoulders and smirking. "Well, I guess we should head back to the common room. I'll introduce you to the rest of the crew and then we'll go to lunch. I'm starving."
"Okay," said Mary, and allowed him to lead her back to the castle.
When Draco and Mary got back to the common room, the first thing they heard was a conversation between Pansy "Queen B" Parkinson and Daphne "Queen C" Greengrass.
"I realise that the men of this fine institution are severely lacking, but killing yourself so you can be with Godric Gryffindor is a bit much," Pansy was saying to Daphne. The girls were lounging on the common room's largest sofa, sharing a bowl of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.
A disgusting, wet smacking noise came from the far corner just then, and a horrible smell filled the common room. In the corner, Crabbe looked sheepish.
Pansy wrinkled her nose and pinched the bridge of it with her thumb and forefinger. "The people at this school are so incredibly foul," she remarked.
"You could always come with me," said Daphne dreamily. "I'm sure Godric has lots of little friends."
Draco smirked and walked over to them, flopping down on the sofa beside Pansy and sending the bowl of Beans all over Daphne, who made a hissing noise and turned up her nose.
"Whatup, girlfriend? Make anyone cry today?" asked Draco, slipping an arm around Pansy's shoulders.
Pansy shrugged Draco's arm off and quirked an eyebrow at him. "Sadly, no," she said. "But it's not even midday yet."
Draco grinned and leant back against the cushions. "Well, don't make this one cry," he said, nodding at Mary. "This is Mary "Pink" Shunpike, she's the new addition to the most exalted house of Slytherin."
"Shunpike? As in..." Pansy gave Mary an appraising look. "Oh, my dear girl. We have got to do something about those clothes."
The common room door slid open noisily just then and Blaise strode in. "Stop your grinnin' and drop your linen," he said in a loud, carrying voice.
Draco scowled. "Make it snappy, Bizzy, lunch is soon."
Blaise gave Draco a lascivious grin. "You won't be very hungry when you hear this."
This seemed to get everyone's attention. Slowly, people from all over the common room drifted towards Blaise. Even Crabbe and Goyle gave up their corner seats and lumbered closer.
Blaise took a look around, no doubt ensuring he had their full attention. "THEY CANCELLED QUIDDITCH," he said dramatically, pressing the back of his hand against his forehead for effect.
Crabbe fainted. Goyle attempted to hold him up but instead ended up on the floor, floundering like an unusually small whale. Theodore gasped. Pansy shrieked. Daphne whipped out her weapon of choice -- a dull spork -- and tried to stab herself with it. Malcolm sat down on the floor, gaping. Draco felt all blood drain from his face.
Theodore was the first to recover. "This sucks more than anything that has ever sucked before," he said.
Draco was next in line. "What the fuck do you mean, they cancelled Quidditch? This was my fucking year. I was going to bring undying glory to our house by setting fire to Potter's broom tail."
Blaise wrinkled his nose. "Dumbledore decided that Quidditch was too dangerous a sport."
"Sounds like he's finally grown a brain," muttered Pansy.
Draco whirled on her. "OMGWTFQUIDDITCH!!!11" he snapped.
Blaise put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Never fear, Drakie-poo," he said with an easy smile.
"Fuck you," snarled Draco, throwing Blaise's hand off.
"Do you want to hear this or not?" asked Blaise with a scowl.
Draco attempted to breathe and folded his arms across his chest. "You've got two seconds to make me happy."
Blaise smirked. "I always suspected you were a minute man, but two seconds?"
"I'm warning you, Bizzy..." said Draco, glowering dangerously.
"Fine, fine," said Blaise, relenting. "Instead of Quidditch, there will be a rap battle. You and Potter."
Mary, whom everyone had forgotten in the kerfuffle, spoke up from beside Daphne. "But what about the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws?"
"Keep up, Pink," said Draco impatiently. "I told you, they don't matter. It's all about the snakes versus the lions." He turned to Blaise. "So... a battle?" This was good. He was actually better than Potter at this.
Blaise grinned and nodded. "Yep, three weeks before the Leaving Ball, right before exams."
"The Leaving Ball?" said Mary in a loud, disbelieving voice. "But that's... so uncanonical!"
Daphne poked Mary playfully with her spork. "Spoilsport!"
Mary began to choke, gasp and splutter. "Oh no," she bit out. "You sporked me! I am undone." With that, she fell over and lay quite still.
"Oops?" said Daphne with a cheeky grin.
With love and kisses to Eminem, from whom lyrics were shamelessly stolen and bastardised for the purposes of this production. And an uncountable number of Hollywood movies (among them Aliens, Rush Hour 2, Next Friday, Fallen, etc). *facepalm* Yeah, if you recognise something, it's most likely been expropriated. See the disclaimer for further clarification.