A Series of Inexplicably Unexpected Events

It was mid-afternoon on a mid-summer's day in mid-August when mother and father called me down to the drawing room to have a little "chat", as they referred to it. They said it was urgent and needed to be addressed right away. So I followed my personal house elf Hiccup, or Hickey, as I affectionately refer to him, down the seven flights of stairs and into the drawing room. Then I told him to get his arse into the kitchen and fetch me a butterbeer, giving him a good, hard, yet affectionate kick in the bum to get him moving.

I took a seat opposite mother and father, on the sofa facing the window. In any case, I'd have some form of entertainment watching the house elves being chased around the yard by Monty, my new pet Manticore. He's such an adorable little thing, so innocent and care free...he likes to play with the house elves, but for some reason they think that being given the task of feeding him is a death sentence...

Anyways, where was I...ah, yes, the "chat" with my parents. Well, I was sitting there for about five minutes, listening to my father carrying on about new responsibilities as I grew older, traditions to uphold, the name of the Malfoy name to prove...yada yada yada.

Suddenly I saw something flash past the window. I shifted slightly so that I would be able to get a better view around my father's enormous head - it really is huge, ever since Pongo the house elf put an engorgement charm on him this summer...no one really knows why, and father clears his throat uncomfortably and changes the subject every time we ask. For some reason, his head was the only thing we couldn't deflate, and I don't think we did a very good job because I've noticed that his pants fit a little tighter now as well...but that's old news. So there I was, sitting on the sofa in the drawing room, when I see that thing flash past again! For some reason, whatever it was was wearing hideously oversized and badly coordinated muggle clothing - not that I know anything about muggle fashion...haha...ha...ahem.

Well, the damn thing flew by a third time, turned around, and then came to a full stop right in front of the window, looking in on my family as we had a "chat" in the drawing room. And who should this mystery blur be, but POTTER! And he was just floating there, making goo-goo eyes at me through the window! I always knew there was something queer about him...goo-goo eyes are SO eighties. Then, as if things aren't bad enough, Potter starts drooling over me. Literally. There were great gobs of spit and saliva trickling down the window pane.

"HEY!" I shouted, but before I could tell him to shut his trap, father interrupted.

"Look, Draco," his enormously oversized head said to me, "I know it wasn't very nice of Pansy to turn you down, but being called too devilishly sexy for her is not something to be upset about! I admit that if it was up to me I would have Crucioed her on the spot for turning down a Malfoy, not to mention that I find it a bit odd that she would have turned you down in the first place...after all, she has a point that you really are too sexy for her..."

At this point, father started patting down the sleek, platinum blonde hair on his grotesquely fat head and shooting naughty looks at me before mother snapped her fingers in front of his face and said, "Focus, Lucius..."

"Ah...yes...anyway, what was I saying? Oh, yes. Pansy says she has another lover to whom she is completely devoted. So your mother and I..."

At this point I tuned out again and resumed staring back out the window at Potter, dithering idiot and part time queer extraordinaire. At this point, something else flew in from the left and collided with him. I had just begun a rousing cheer for whatever it was when I realized it was the littlest Weasley. I don't know her name...Gin-in-tonic, I think...ah, who cares. But I noticed that she was smothering Potter in kisses and attempting to climb onto his broomstick. I guess all Weasleys are born with an enormously over-stimulated sex drive...I mean, seven children! I ask you! But, word around school is that LW (Littlest Weasley) will throw herself at every guy she meets, single or taken. She's the resident whore of Gryffindor - jumpin' Jehosaphat! It RHYMES! This is surely one of the four signs of the apocalypse -

"Draco, what are you doing cowering under the sofa?" came father's sneering voice. I crawled out, not having realized my sudden spasm of terror and flee to its cover. Once seated comfortably on top of the sofa again, positioned just so that my father's abominably ample amount of skull would not obstruct my view of the [admittedly hilarious] chaos going on outside the window.

LW was now chasing Potter with a mad glint in her eyes, and he was looking absolutely terrified. I must admit, even though it was a Weasley unknowingly doing my bidding, the look on Potter's face was worth that little setback. I leaned back comfortably in the sofa, head perched regally on my perfectly manicured hands, trademark smirk set in place, legs crossed just-so, my immaculately cleaned robes falling open in just the right way, left size-ten foot swinging to a song that was playing in my head, and watched the show. I only wished Hickey would hurry back with my butterbeer...maybe I'd ask him to fetch me a bag of popcorn as well...

"Draco!"

"What now, mother?"

"Stop acting sexy! It's very rude! How could you even think about leaning back comfortably in that sofa, head perched regally on your perfectly manicured hands, trademark smirk set in place, legs crossed just-so, your immaculately cleaned robes falling open in just the right -"

CRASH!

I looked up in time to see Potter slide down the window and crumple onto the ground. Father's head snapped around so fast that I hoped - er, thought - that he might get whiplash and live in pain for - er, about...twenty seconds or so until he terrified someone into fixing it for him. Apparently, Potter's seeker skills weren't in tip-top condition today, for he had flown straight into the window, resulting in the ensuing CRASH! that followed. However, he was nowhere in sight. As father finds it hard to move around these days, due to his inflated head, he couldn't get up to investigate. And as for mother, well, she's practically anorexic and barely has the strength to make any sort of facial expression, besides that foul one she always has on her face...maybe that was the expression it was in when the last of her energy was drained from her, and it just stayed like that...hmm...

Oh well, point is, they didn't investigate and I let them assume that Monty had thrown a house elf up against the window - which, in hindsight, has happened several times already, so it wasn't far fetched at all.

Potter struggled up from the ground, rubbing his head and tapping his glasses feverishly with his wand, muttering a spell as he did so. But nothing happened. He tried again and again, but as everyone knows, the mudblood always does his magic for him, so he's hopeless. He threw a tantrum on the spot, then spotted my fuzzy yet distinguishable and dead sexy outline through the window and started drooling again. Monty, no doubt attracted by the noise of Potter's tantrum, ran gleefully over and sent the famous ditherhead running for cover; Monty snapped Potter's precious Firebolt clean in half as he chased after him. Just goes to show you that bad things happen to people who let sainthood go to their heads. Or to people whose sainthood has everything to do with scars on their heads...

Potter clambered up a tree in the yard, and LW flew around laughing at him. Apparently, her attempt to have a quick shag on his broomstick hadn't had a very good reception. Pity. This place is so twisted and boring, a little straight action would have been greatly appreciated. I mean, do you know how emotionally scarring it is to have Voldemort flirting with you!? DO YOU!?! I DON'T THINK YOU DO! The last time he "visited" to have a "chat" with my father, he spent half an hour in a broom cupboard with me, claiming that it was to test for claustrophobia...he said he couldn't have claustrophobic Death Eaters because it's becoming hard to find a meeting place big enough and out of the way of muggles and the ministry that can comfortably hold them all. But I think that he just uses small spaces so that he has an excuse to "accidentally" touch other men in inappropriate places...oh no, the memories...AAHH!!! Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts! Pongo being fed to Monty after putting that engorgement charm on father...Potter being chased up a tree by Monty...Monty being snogged by LW...hang on, WHAT!?!

I had inadvertently looked up at the exact moment that LW started snogging my Manticore. That was it, this had gone too far. Potter giving me goo-goo eyes, I could handle. Weasley trying to get a little action, well...I was used to that. Potter being chased up a tree by my Manticore...about time that happened. But Weasley snogging my Manticore, that I could not allow.

"...so I do hope that you will take this betrothal into consideration, Draco. The Dark Lord would greatly appreciate it if you would, and it's practically a guarantee that you will be heir to the throne of evil! BUAHAHAHAHAHA!" I cocked an eyebrow at father before excusing myself and hurrying as fast as I could through the maze that was my house. After two minutes, I took out my wand, muttered Point Me and within seconds found myself outside. I followed the sounds of screams and roars, and stepped through a juniper bush to meet a truly unbelievable sight.

A small set of stands had been conjured off to one side of the large area that Monty is contained in. Potter and LW were the only ones inside, aside from Monty. In the stands sat the other Weasley and his twin brothers. Pansy and the mudblood were sitting hand in hand, and Weasley was sitting on the other side of the mudblood, fondling her. Voldemort was cackling madly in the back row, and Hickey was squeaking and munching popcorn while trying to get as far away from Voldemort as possible. There were a couple other people there as well, but they're not really important.

"C'mon, 'Arry! It's just a bloody Manticore, you can take 'im!" Weasley yelled at the top of his voice through a mouthful of popcorn. Pansy was simpering along beside the mudblood, being her usual simper-onic self. Weasley was now snogging the mudblood's ear, but she didn't seem to notice. The twins were laughing at LW (I've just realized that can stand for little whore as well...ha, ha, ha...) snogging Monty, and Potter seemed undecided as to whether he should make a break for it or stay in his safe little haven. At that point, LW noticed that I was standing there and detangled herself from Monty, her face bright scarlet. Monty, becoming bored, sauntered over to Potter and started toying with him; making him go further and further up the tree, then sitting down until Potter tried to climb down, and jumping up ferociously again. He really is a cute little thing. Voldemort was beside himself, the twins were sneaking Weasley's Wildfire Whiz-Bangs down Weasley's pants as he continued to snog the mudblood's ear, Hickey was Hiccupping like mad, and I realized that LW was soaring straight towards me on her broom -

"Hi!" she said breathlessly as she landed next to me. "How's your summer been?"

How was I to answer that? Being a Malfoy isn't all it's cracked up to be, you know. It's rather disgusting, having to deal with the most evil wizard (not to mention the most grotesque) in the world coming on to you all the time, your father hiding a shameful secret from his family, your mother always looking like she's got Dobby's old pillowcase shoved under her nose, and your Manticore terrorizing your sworn enemy...well, the last one's not so bad.

"Pretty good, yours?"

"Oh, can't complain...except that being around seven men all summer and not being allowed to snog them because they're related to you is rather frustrating...that's partially why I was snogging your Manticore just now."

"Er...I see..."

Before I knew it, LW was upon me, snogging me into oblivion. To be perfectly honest, she was actually quite good...snogging her was like instant Viagra...not that I know anything about muggle drugs...haha...ha...ahem. I truly couldn't understand why Potter was running from her in the first place - she was amazing! No wonder she got around, everyone wanted a ride on the LW tonsil hockey express!

However, our brief snogging session was halted when Potter, in a fit of jealous rage, tore LW off me. Then he started screaming at me.

"Oh, Draco, how could you go and break my heart like that! I have loved you thince I firthst laid my beautifully vibrant Forest Green #2 eyes on you, you little tease!" then he gave me a playful shove in the chest with a limp wrist. Funny, I never knew Potter had a lisp...or sounded so much like Richard Simmons...not that I know anything about muggle aerobics icons...haha...ha...ahem. In any case, he was acting oddly, and I wished someone would put a stop to it...

"Draco!"

Uh-oh.

"What...meaning of this?"

My father was sauntering through the hedges, but his unbelievably huge head had become entangled in the branches. I heard some grunting, a few muffled "ow's" and then he stood to his rather imposing height, especially since his head had become peculiarly voluminous.

"Potter..." he smoothed down his hair again, as it had become very messy from crawling through bushes, and began shooting naughty looks at the Richard Simmons wannabe.

"Malfoy..." Potter started to blush, and turned away slightly. "I...didn't know I would see you here..."

"This is my mansion, Potter, what did you...expect..."

"Well, I don't know...I just wanted to see...your son..."

"Ah...well, that...explains it then..."

"Yes, I...thought it would..."

"Let's...snog..."

"Do you...love me...?"

"Ever since I...first laid eyes on your...eyes..."

"Okay..."

At that point, I vomited rather violently into the hedge behind me. Then I turned around and experienced an amazing cleansing ritual that rid my mouth of that horrible vomit aftertaste. The ritual was tonsil hockey with LW.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw father and Potter skipping away hand-in-hand. It nearly made me sick again, but thankfully I forced it down in the face of LW. It really was a beautiful face...

"Weasley -"

"Ginny. Now that we're officially together in this fic, you need to call me by my first name."

"Oh, okay...Ginny, why were you always such a whore at Hogwarts?"

"Oh, just to get your attention. Clearly, it worked."

"Indeed!"

Then we went back to snogging. It was beautiful. It was all sunshine and roses and flocks of butterflies taking off into the sky all at once and long walks around the lake, the giant squid's tentacles weaving themselves into a pattern vaguely resembling a heart - well, he gets an "A" for effort.

And that was when Weasley's pants exploded. Not Ginny, the other one. The Weasley's Wildfire Whiz-Bangs had gone off, and now he was soaring through the air, clutching the mudblood, tongue still cleaning out her ear. Honestly, how much earwax do mudbloods have? They landed not far from us, and it seemed that the mudblood had finally realized that Weasley was feverishly licking her ear.

"Ron, what - what are you doing?!"

"Lckng ynnggr rrr."

"What?"

"He's licking your ear, Granger, it's kind of obvious to the rest of us. What can I say, he's crazy about you. Nearly drove himself mad when you kept in touch with Vicky."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, not you too! His name is Viktor, you puffed-up ferret!"

"Watch who you're calling puffed-up, Granger, haven't you seen my father's head yet?"

"No, why?"

"It's all...puffed-up."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Let's see, then!"

I led Granger - and everyone else who was hovering around me, for some reason - over to the tree Potter had climbed up earlier when escaping from Monty, and found my father pressing Potter up against the trunk. I calmly turned around and vomited on Weasley's shoes, but he didn't seem to notice.

"There...heerrrlack!...there's my father's puffed-up head, Granger."

"Why's it so big?"

"Pongo put an engorgement charm on him, and everything deflated except for his head...we don't know why..."

Just then a sound like air being let out of a punctured balloon split the air. I looked up to see my father's head deflating like a...well, a punctured balloon.

"NOOOoooo! Stop! DON'T deflate anything else!"

"What? There's something else?" Granger said, lowering her wand slightly.

My father looked acutely uncomfortable at this question and adjusted himself, attempting to be discreet, and Potter blushed hideously.

"Er...no, of course not...now run along, you lot, before I have to kill you all right here."

"I have a question, though, Lucy."

My father had a mild dither attack at being called "Lucy" by anyone, and then realized it was Voldemort and relaxed.

"If you were in love with Potter all this time, why were you such a...well...an asshole to him?"

"Hmm...good question...I suppose it had to do with...my quest for inner acceptance and peace. It explains all about it in my handbook to do-it-yourself yoga for beginners -"

"What does that mean?" Weasley asked.

"It means I felt like it, you spazoid fool!"

Weasley looked even more perplexed than usual at the peculiar insult, but shrugged and wandered off with Granger, still snogging her ear.

The rest of us just stood in a circle for a moment of uncomfortable silence before father told us all to get lost. And we all did, including Voldemort; my father's not fun when he's angry.

As we all walked away (Myself, Ginny, Pansy, Voldemort, Monty, and, for some reason, Hickey), arm-in-arm with each other (???) I asked Pansy how she and Granger had come to be an item.

"Oh, well, umm...er, see, it happened when, uh...hmm. I really have no idea. Do you, Hiccup, sweety?" she asked Hickey.

"No, I don'ts, miss. 'Tis a mystery of the house elf's enslavement, miss."

"Is it?"

"Somehow, yes, it is, miss."

"Hmm." Pansy looked deep in thought for a moment, a scary thing at the best of times, then said, "Okay." And snogged Hickey on the spot.

Ginny unexpectedly pulled me around to her for a quick snog, and I would have fallen, had it not been for her surprising strength (she must be 5'2" at the most and under 100 pounds).

It was once again heaven embodied in a kiss, and when we broke apart, I thought I was dreaming when I saw Voldemort and Monty going at each other like animals, which, one must admit, they are.

Unfortunately, I was wide-awake. To this day the emotional scars remain.

THE END