not your typical annihilatrix (furiosity) wrote,
not your typical annihilatrix
furiosity

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Fic: My Big Phat Hogwarts [crackfic, Harry/Draco, PG-13] - 03

I will never understand people who think that being mean to others makes them look good or respectable. There's absolutely nothing respectable in being nasty or bitchy just because you can. Being bitchy or mean because you honestly feel someone deserves it is one thing. Doing it on purpose just to hurt people (or to fuck with their heads) is another. Please stop. You're making my side look stupid.

*distracts the rest of you*

Title: My Big Phat Hogwarts [1 of 3]
Author: furiosity
Genre: Crackfic/Parody/AU
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Harry/Draco
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.
Beta: None.
Note: Thank you to ldymusyc for certain clothing choices and tangleofthorns for Snape's rap.
Concrit: Always welcome and appreciated.

My Big Phat Hogwarts [3]


THREE WEEKS LATER

It was the night of the Leaving Ball, and all through Hogwarts castle not a creature was peaceful, not even a house-elf. Draco, who had finally come out of hiding, was not going to the Ball. He was going to spend the evening sulking in the Astronomy Tower. He was just on his way out of the common room when he ran into Theodore Nott, who was wearing - weirdly enough - wizard robes.

"What the hell?" asked Draco, momentarily shocked out of his funk.

Theodore beamed at him. "You like my outfit? I'm going as Godric Gryffindor. Harry bullied Dumbledore into giving me the Real Sword of Godric Gryffindor™, too! Now Daphne will not be able to say no to me."

Draco blinked at him, trying to process two things at once: OMGWTFHARRY? and OMGWTFDAPHNE? He blinked once again for good measure and decided to go with the less loaded question. "Um. What's this about Daphne? I thought you were gay."

Theodore smirked. "You neglected to ask me before giving me the nickname 'Poof', did I ever tell you?"

Draco shrugged. "Oh well. So... did you say Potter gave you the sword? Since when is Potter doing anything to help Slytherins?"

"Well, he's really sorry about what happened during the battle and he figures that random acts of kindness towards Slytherins will help him curry favour with you," said Theodore in a bored voice, as though reciting from a script.

Draco scowled. "You're not funny, Nott. Anyway, have fun at the Ball."

"Aren't you going?" asked Theodore, placing his hand on the hilt of Godric's sword.

"Of course I'm not going. What are you, new?" said Draco, his scowl deepening. "Like I said, have fun." With that, he hitched his baggy jeans further up his waist (he kept having to do that lately but refused to acknowledge that he'd lost weight) and set off down the hallway. On his way to the marble staircase, he heard Potter's voice behind him.

"Hey, Malfoy, wait!"

"Not for you," snapped Draco, glaring over his shoulder. If he didn't stop frowning, he'd develop wrinkles for sure, but he couldn't help himself. He made a sharp turn and instead of heading up the staircase, he descended the steps to the Hufflepuff dungeon on the opposite side of the entrance hall. When he reached the kitchens, Draco bullied a gang of terrified house-elves into surrendering a month's supply of chocolate-covered biscuits. He carried the large box of biscuits to the Astronomy Tower, mentally kicking himself for not making one of the house-elves carry it for him.

Because it was the night of the Ball, the Astronomy Tower was deserted. It wouldn't stay deserted for the entire evening, but Draco had full intent to chase away anyone who dared to venture up there later that night. It just wasn't right that Draco alone had to be miserable. He deposited the box of biscuits on the windowsill and clambered up to sit beside it, nearly losing his trousers in the process. He leant against the windowpane and stared out into the warm June evening. Remembering the biscuits, he tore the box open and started in on them. It was going to be a long night.

After about fifteen minutes, Draco realised that there was no way he would be able to sit there the whole night. The windowsill was uncomfortable, the view uninspiring and even the biscuits were starting to taste like Silly Putty. Not that Draco knew anything about Silly Putty or what it tasted like. Just then, he heard voices -- or was it a voice? -- from below. How he was able to hear anything from so high up was anyone's guess, but then again, they were all wizards here at Hogwarts.

Have you ever been hated, or discriminated against?
I have. I've been protested and demonstrated against
Picket signs for my awful crimes, look at the times -
These junior prats would rather have Mr Voldypants.
All this commotion, emotions run deep as oceans explodin'
Tempers flarin', Death Eaters, just blow 'em off and keep goin'
Not takin' nothin' from no one, give 'em hell long as I'm breathin'
Keep kickin' ass in the mornin', and takin' names in the evenin'
Leavin' with a taste as sour as Acid Pops in their mouth
See they can trigger me, but they'll never figure me out
Look at me now, I betcha prolly sick of me now,
Ain't you Malfoy? I prolly look so ridiculous now.

Draco poked his head out of the window cautiously and cast a spell to see the ground below better. Potter was standing right under the window of the Astronomy Tower, wizarding mic in hand, his head tilted upwards. Draco's eyes widened and he quickly ducked back inside.

I'm sorry, Malfoy.
I never meant to hurt you,
I never meant to make you cry
So tonight, I'm cleanin' out my closet.

Draco couldn't take it anymore. He leant out of the window again and shouted, "Wardrobe, you arse monkey."

Potter actually had the audacity to grin. "Dude, we're wannabe hip hop stars in this fic and you're worried about Britpicking?"

Draco pursed his lips. "Point. But whatever, shut the fuck up, Potter, you're making a prat of yourself. Make me cry? You wish."

"Look Malfoy, I said I was sorry. How many ways d'you want me to say it? I could try Swahili or sign language or--"

"You can try taking your sorry and shoving it where the sun don't shine, Potter," snapped Draco. "Sorry no help."

"Why aren't you speaking proper English?"

"Bugger off," muttered Draco, well aware that Potter couldn't hear him. He leant against the window frame again and bit into another biscuit. He wasn't altogether surprised when Potter showed up in the doorway some ten minutes later. Potter obviously was rubbish at following instructions. It wasn't Draco's fault that he hadn't bothered to shout the "bugger off". Potter was the special one with the anti-Dark Lord powers, he should have had telepathy and supersonic hearing on his character sheet. Clearly. Draco hopped off the windowsill and leant back on it using his elbows, facing the doorway, carefully making sure that he was wearing his Most Evil Sneer™.

"Malfoy."

"Potter."

"Why do you think that exchange shows up in nearly every fic about the two of us?"

"Huh?" Draco blinked at Potter, who took the opportunity to edge into the room.

"Never mind. So are you still cross with me?"

Draco spluttered. "Of course I'm still cross with you. Do I look like I'm not?"

"Well, you're not trying to hex me or anything," said Potter, stepping closer.

Draco smirked. "Feeling brave, I see. Much braver than you were--"

"LOOK, I'M SORRY, OKAY?" exploded Potter. "YOU DIDN'T EVEN WARN ME OR ANYTHING AND HOW THE FUCK WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT YOU WERE FOR REAL? I THOUGHT YOU WERE JUST HAVING ME ON! DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE WORDS THAT ARE COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH?"

Draco cringed a little but refused to back down. "Nobody understands the words that are coming out of your mouth," he said with an indignant sniff. "Didn't you know that statistically, all-caps text is more difficult to read than normal text?"

Potter scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish. "Really?"

"Yes, really," said Draco, rolling his eyes. They stared at each other for a long moment. It was Draco who broke the silence. "So what do your little Wildcats think of you being here?"

"They think I'm a nutter."

"You are a nutter. Have a biscuit." Draco nodded at the box of biscuits beside his left elbow.

Potter smirked and walked up to him, ignoring the biscuits and instead putting his hands on either side of Draco on the windowsill and leaning forward. "No, thanks," he breathed into Draco's ear. "I'd rather--"

Draco pushed him away, glaring. "What do you want to be, one of those losers who walk down the halls, holding hands and smiling? People used to respect and fear you. Now you're going to throw that all away?"

"What halls, Malfoy? We're leaving Hogwarts tomorrow," said Potter, moving to Draco's right and leaning back on the windowsill as well.

"Oh," said Draco. "I forgot." He turned around and stared out into the night. He could feel Potter's eyes studying his profile but ignored the urge to look back, no matter how pretty Potter's eyes must have looked. In the dark.

He saw the door to Hagrid's hut come open, the half-giant's hulking form silhouetted in the sliver of light. Hagrid shut the door and headed off towards the forbidden forest. It sounded like he was singing and Draco strained his hearing.

"If yeh wan' my future, forget my past,
If yeh wanna get wit' me, better make it fast
Now don' go wastin' my precious time
Get yer act together we could be jus' fine.
I'll tell yeh what I wan', what I really really wan'..."

Draco shuddered. He'd rather look at Potter, thank you very much. He turned, finding Potter's pretty eyes very agreeable - much more so than Hagrid's inane drunken singing. "What guarantees do I have that you won't just chicken out again?" he asked.

"I could give you my word as a Gryffindor," replied Potter, his face very serious.

Draco shook his head sceptically. "That's no good. I've known far too many Gryffindors."

">:0!!1" said Potter.

Draco smirked and kissed him. Potter squeaked.

"Suave, Potter," mumbled Draco, pulling him closer. This time Potter didn't protest. When they broke apart, panting and breathless, Draco found that Potter didn't have to be angry for his eyes to flash so prettily. They stared at each other again, and this time Potter broke the silence. "So you want to go to the Room of Requirement?" he said.

"wtf," said Draco.

"Well, there isn't much else to talk about, is there?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Well, you're right. Such bald-faced propositions don't really whip me into a verbal frenzy. In fact, they leave me rather speechless."

Potter let out a long-suffering sigh. "Oh come on, Malfoy. It's not a space-shuttle launch, it's just sex."

Draco's other eyebrow joined its mate. "What's a space shuttle?" he asked, interested.

Potter shook his head and grabbed Draco round the midsection, hoisting him up onto his shoulder with a grunt. "Shut up."

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, IN THE ROOM OF REQUIREMENT

"So what exactly is the extent of your experience with homosexuality?" asked Draco, wiping his hand on the sheets and trying not to look amused.

"Well there was one time, at band camp, with Neville--"

If Draco could see himself, he suspected he'd see a very green person. "Maybe it's better if we don't discuss our past relationships."

"Yeah, let's die curious." Harry reached behind Draco and pulled down a curtain.

Suddenly, everything went dark.

"What, you thought this would turn into gratuitous porn?" came Draco's voice from the darkness. "Ha."

The credits rolled, superimposed over images of Hogwarts staff and students performing a synchronised dance number to the driving beat of Limp Bizkit's Rollin'.

Then all was dark again for a few moments, before Dumbledore walked in from stage left.

Grinning broadly, he winked. "Mwee hee hee!"

The End



With love and kisses to Eminem, Missy Elliot and the film 8 Mile, from which 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, Ten Things I Hate About You, She's All That, American Pie, Fallen, etc). *facepalm* Yeah, if you recognised something, it's most likely been expropriated. See the disclaimer for further clarification.

The R rating is, of course, for gratuitous harsh language, sexual themes and overly casual references to drug use.

Also, if you could please take a moment to vote in this poll:

Poll #521483 Teh poll of crack

Should I write an H/D fic following the script of Clueless?

Hell yes
65(86.7%)
Fuck no
4(5.3%)
If you promise to lay off the crack.
6(8.0%)

Do you know where I can find the script to She's All That? >.>

Yes, see comments.
5(8.3%)
No, and I hope you aren't thinking about writing fic to it.
23(38.3%)
You are truly frightening. Lay off the crack, mon.
32(53.3%)

Ticky box?

TICKY BOX! :D
11(15.9%)
BICKY TOX! >:0!
7(10.1%)
LLAMA!!!1
19(27.5%)

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