Pieces of a Hogwarts Pie

Hogwartian Pie

Episode 3: Draco Malfoy and the Longest Day of His Life

"Hey Cameron," said Draco as he lounged in the chair next to the crackling fireplace of the Slytherin Common Room, after his DADA class. "You going to pass my wand back to me, or do I have to have Goyle get it for me?"

"Hit!" exclaimed Cameron, the fifth year Slytherin, as his eyes dilated. Yet, he made no move to give the wand back. Instead, he crossed his eyes, grit his teeth, and waved it again. "Hit! ... Hit!"

"Damn scavenger," muttered Draco disdainfully. "This is quite the last time I am getting you up for free."

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" mumbled Cameron. "I've barely hit this at all... Hit!"

Draco glared coldly at the boy. "If you OD, I will laugh at your fallen body and make sure you are never found. Then, I shall go outside, do a tribal rain dance and thank Amun Ra for granting my wish."

Cameron snapped his head up to Draco, his eyes twirling like a video game addicts. "Whoa... cool. Can I come?"

The boy was cut off, however, as he was shoved off the chair by a large, robust arm. Draco's wand was pried from Cameron's fallen hand by the large fingers of Crabbe who flicked his wand back to his friend.

"Thanks Crabbe," said Draco with a nod. "Hit!"

Crabbe grunted at Draco and shook his head with trollish disdain.

"What?" asked Draco, in a tripped out voice.

Crabbe wiggled his hand furiously, grunted three times, and shook his head.

Draco cocked his head. "You want to self-fornicate?"

Crabbe grunted again, glowered at Draco, wiggled his hand, pointed to his wand, and grunted three more times.

"You want me to do it for you?" asked Draco, in a spaced, concerned tone.

Crabbe rolled his eyes and shook his large head again.

"Just talk, for the love of Merlin!" snapped Draco, loosing his patience.

"You ignorant, pasty prat!" growled Crabbe. "You are addicted to the Intoxicadus Charm, and I'm bloody well concerned about it!"

Just then, Malcolm Baddock and the rest of the fourth years approached Draco. Malcolm was a skinny boy with a shaved head.

"Um, Mr. Malfoy," said Malcolm, addressing him with respect. "We ... need some magic. We are throwing a lesson in our dorm... got some right looking Ravenclaws coming by tonight for a... charms class."

Draco nodded slowly. "How many charms?"

"Err..." Malcolm looked back to his friends, who held up four fingers each. "Four."

Draco withdrew something from his pocket... a hefty amount of herbs and reagents he had stolen from Professor Snape potions' closet. Crabbe watched on with discontent as he crushed them in his hand and sprinkled them upon his own wand.

"25 galleons, marked down from 40... bulk order plus a special Slytherin price," said Draco slowly. "Payable by next week... fail to pay, Goyle will break your legs, and if Crabbe stops being moody, he'll help."

Malcolm nodded slowly, without too much care. Draco was confident the young fourth year knew the repercussions of cheating him. Crabbe simply huffed.

"Wands," said Draco, arching his brows at Crabbe and not looking at Malcolm. He simply held out his hand.

Malcolm gave Draco his wand, as well as three of his fellow students wands.

"As you know, each wand holds twenty hits... as your wands have been already enchanted to hold the spell, I've waved the fifty galleon enchanting fee."

Malcolm nodded slowly, as Draco continued his practiced schpeal.

Draco waved his wand over the four wands in his other hand, murmuring low incantations. After a moment and a fancy color display, the wands glowed briefly.

"I have loaded each wand with one hit," he continued, with perfect eloquence, "you may sample the quality of the product if you wish."

Malcolm and his friends eagerly gathered their wands, waved them in a circular motion.

"Hit!"

Each of their eyes diluted and began spinning psychedelically.

"It will do..." rasped Malcolm, who promptly began dancing to music only he could hear once he had returned his wand to Draco. Many of his fellow fourth years joined him, not drawing the attention of too many other Slytherins.

It was clear they were all used to Malcolm dancing, while his eyes were swirling.

Draco shook his head and continued his spell. "Lightweight."

After five minutes, Draco finished with the four wands and handed them back to the dancing fourth years. All the while Crabbe watched on with disapproval.

"Anyway, Crabbe, I'm going to receive some of my fan mail now."

Crabbe glowered at Draco as the pale boy stood up, pushed his way past the raving Slytherins, who were already using up some of their hits, and proceeded to his room. Crabbe followed him, grunting angrily down the empty corridor.

"For the love of Merlin, Crabbe... you were supposed to get over this 'no speaking' thing when you were a bleeding infant. No one is around. Speak!"

"I'm serious, Malfoy," barked Crabbe, breaking out of his silence, "they may not have urine tests for this competition, but frying your brain isn't going to get you past the second task! Imagine the headlines... Tri-Wizard Champion of Hogwarts, drowned under the lake at Hogwarts when he tried to snort his wand."

Draco looked back to Crabbe with a mischievous grin. "Oh come on now, Crabbe. Have you no faith in me? I managed to get passed the weighing of the wands, despite the Intoxication Charm tests." Draco thought for a moment. "And besides, they probably aren't going to make me swim under the lake like they made Potter. For my first task, I had to run through a building sized cage full of pixies... Potter had to fight a dragon."

Crabbe shook his head with irritation as Draco entered their dorm room and reached under his bed. With a tug, he pulled out a large, bouncing sack.

"Oh please, Draco... don't open that!"

Draco sighed. "Well, I have to... they'll suffocate if I keep them under their too long. I promise, only one piece of fan mail for today."

Crabbe rolled his eyes and crossed his arms disdainfully as Draco opened up the sack. With a disgruntled huff, a dwarf dressed in pink tights leapt out and pounced on Draco. Quickly waving his wand, the pale-faced boy sealed the bag before any more could escape.

With an irritated tone, the dwarf began to sing.

"Oh Draco Malfoy, the sexiest Champion in my life,"

"I am smitten by you, and want to be your wife,"

"How I worship your eyes, and your gorgeous hair,"

"I long to make love to you, with great flare,"

"My infatuation for you is as large as an ocean,"

"Please give me a chance; I'll show you some motion,"

"So please, take me to your bed,"

"And don't worry, I love to give h...AHH!"

Crabbe promptly lifted the dwarf in the air and dropped him. Before he hit the floor however, the huge boy's foot made solid connection with the creature's rear, and punted him like a football toward the window of dorm, shattering the glass and landing outside with a thud.

"By MERLIN!" cried Crabbe, shuttering disdainfully. "That was annoying!"

Draco, who was lying on the ground, looked as proud as a peacock, his arms folded behind his head. "I liked it. Usually, most of the tarts who write me don't even bother to rhyme their words."

"How superficial are you!" gawked Crabbe.

"You have no idea," replied Draco. "I would have responded to that one if you didn't just kill the dwarf."

Crabbe waved his hand at the window. "A mercy killing, I assure you."

"Can we open another?" asked Draco pleadingly.

Crabbe lifted his large hand, patting the back angrily.

Draco pouted. "Guess that's a no."

Crabbe simply grunted, falling back stupid.

"Come on," said Draco dourly as he leapt up from the floor of the common room and began to hustle out. "Let's grab lunch and head to the library after... double potions after lunch with the Hufflepuffs; that, I don't want to miss."

At that, Crabbe chuckled trollishly and followed Draco out of the room.

* * * * * *

"Ah, Goyle," said Draco nonchalantly as he and Crabbe took their spots at the head of the Slytherin table, next to the large, dumb animal. Everyone seemed to be having lunch at the same time today, for the hall was nearly filled.

Goyle jammed his face full of roast beef and chewed it methodically, striking Draco as some kind of very ugly cow.

"Ok, Goyle, you are giving me the very ugly cow routine again... what did I do?" asked Draco, as if coaxing the answer from a nine year old.

Goyle continued chewing, giving Draco very long eyes.

"Oh," said Draco, slapping his chest. "I'm sorry, Goyle... I was supposed to hook you up with someone for the Yule Ball."

The very stupid looking cow nodded.

Draco groaned and leaned over. By coincidence, he happened to be sitting next to Millicent Bulstrode, who also was stuffing her face with roast beef. Her piggish features were shining through brilliantly as she attempted to breath and chew at the same time, an audible grunting and snorting filling Draco's mind with evident disgust.

"Oh, Milly dearest..." said Draco, smiling his sweet and winning smile.

Millicent snapped her head toward Draco, her food practically falling out of her mouth.

"What?"

Draco smiled even more sweetly. "Could you do me a huge... big... large... titanic favor?"

Millicent glowered at him, but said nothing.

"You know," began Draco, trying another avenue. "You know who is a great, hansome... and er... shockingly intelligent person when you get to know him?"

The large Slytherin girl grabbed a handful of roast beef from her plate with her hand and jammed it into her mouth, a very unimpressed look upon her face.

"Gregory Goyle..." said Draco. "Believe me, he's a catch and a half, quite literally. You and him would make such a... strikingly similar couple!"

Goyle straightened up and puffed out his chest, striking up a pose.

Millicent simply grunted and swallowed her food. "If he's so great, you go out with him, Malfoy."

"Oh, I would... I would..." said Draco hastily, "but, see... err... my heart belongs to someone else... me. But see, you are..." Draco's eyes roamed her body, making him feel the need to throw up his meal, "... obviously available..."

"Forget it, little man," grunted Millicent. "I'm still holding out for my Adonis with red hair."

Draco was not sure what made him sicker as his eyes inadvertently shifted over to the Gryffindor Table, where Harry, Ron and Seamus sat, laughing with mischievous glee. This drew Malfoy's eye, and caused his brow to arch. He knew Ron Weasley was Millicent's 'not-so secret' crush, but he momentarily forgot about that.

"I wonder what those ladies are beaming about," said Draco, nodding to the trio.

Crabbe, Goyle and Millicent both looked over to the three Gryffindor boys.

"I dunno," said Millicent enthusiastically, "want to go find out and talk to Ron?"

Before Draco could come up with a snide rebuttal, they were interrupted by the sounds of a thousand wings flapping overhead as the owl post fluttered into the great hall. Draco groaned and dove under the table.

"Draco's got some fan mail!" laughed Blaise Zabini as she pointed to five large rocs that flapped into the great hall, practically smashing half of the windows in the great hall with their thirty-foot wingspan. "Wands out!"

"Battle stations!" cried Malcolm Baddock, drawing his wand.

From the gargantuan birds, ten dwarfs in ballerina costumes leapt off the huge birds, drawing laughs from all the Slytherins and looks of disgust from every other hall as they each opened up an umbrella, floating down to the Slytherin table, seeking out their prey.

Very much used to the drill, however, Draco's fellow Slytherin's were ready. Before the Great Hall could become filled with the sounds of ten dwarfs dressed in pink spandex serenading Draco, about twelve different voices rang out in unison... as leglocker charms and muting hexes struck the dwarfs before they could deliver a single note.

Draco crawled out from the table, drawing his wand, and quickly casting a "Disaccio Fan Mail!" ten times upon each of the dwarfs, banishing them to his bag under the bed.

The rest of the Great Hall clapped their approval. After the hundreth singing dwarf, the Slytherins decided that they did not want the Gryffindors silencing and banishing Draco's fan mail as Dean Thomas had begun to incite the Gryffindor's into action, and thus, proposed to do it themselves.

Jealous pillock, thought Draco.

Yet, however, the drama of this post did not end. Shouts suddenly started at the Gryffindor table, instigated by what was clearly Harry and Ron. Draco stared over in confusion.

"Seamus has a howler!" shouted Harry, pointing and laughing as Seamus' eyes went wide, staring at the red letter in front of him in shock.

Draco's lips broke into a smirk as he licked his lips as the shout began to fill the hall. Each student was now giving Seamus their undivided attention.

"Ha!" laughed Millicent. "That horny little boy finally pissed off the wrong lady! Probably stole Professor McGryffindorTightBritches' underwear and used it in the shower."

"Aw Merlin!" gagged Draco, staring over at Millicent. Crabbe wore a particularly violated look upon his face, while Goyle scratched his head.

Millicent looked at Draco naively. Clearly she had expected her joke to be met with a great deal of laughter. "You get it right? He'd take a shower with it and jerk..."

"Bloody hell, we get it, Millicent," said Draco, smacking his head on the table. "Shut up, for all that is holy!"

"Well, gee..." shouted Seamus, trying to hold back a laugh very badly. "I suppose I have to open this... it's the way howlers work... after all."

Draco's eyes suddenly narrowed. What the?

Before Draco could think about this any further, Seamus grabbed the letter and ripped it open. Harry and Ron both had their heads in their arms upon the table, quaking with laughter.

And suddenly, Draco's jaw dropped open as a voice he recognized very well filled the Great Hall.

"DAMN YOU SEAMUS FINNIGAN!" screamed the voice of Lucius Malfoy. Draco's face suddenly paled with horror.

"DO NOT THINK I WILL LET YOU GET AWAY WITH THIS. YOU HAVE OFFICALLY VIOLATED THE SANCTIY OF MY MARRAGE! I HAVE JUST FOUND OUT THIS MOMENT THAT YOU AND MY WIFE, NARCISSA MALFOY, HAVE EXCHANGED SEXUAL RELATIONS AGAIN... AND AGAIN... AND AGAIN... AND AGAIN... SHE HAS TOLD ME THAT YOU HAVE FOUR TIMES MY STAMINA AND PLEASURING ABILITY!"

Most of the students in the Great Hall wore completely shocked expressions, but everyone at the Gryffindor table had already fallen off their chairs, rolling around with laughter with the exception of Seamus, who was turning fuchsia from an effort to keep a straight face.

"I PROMISE YOU THAT YOU WILL RUE THE DAY YOU CROSSED THE MALFOY FAMILY, SEAMUS FINNIGAN. I PROMISE YOU THAT I SHALL GET THE DARK LORD AND MY FELLOW DEATHEATERS ... ERRM... I MEAN... I SHALL GET INTO MY DARK FORD AND HAVE MY FELLOW BREASTFEEDERS GIVE YOU A LESSON YOU WILL NOT SOON FORGET. THIS WILL BE THE THIRD ILLEGITEMATE SON WE HAVE HAD, THANKS TO YOU! BY THE WAY, MY WIFE TELLS ME YOU ARE HUNG TWICE AS WELL AS MY SON, DRACO OR ME. YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS!"

Draco's face had turned from pale to purple with rage as he clenched his fists at his side.

By now, everyone in the hall, including nearly all the Slytherins had recovered from the shock and were now rolling around the ground with laughter. Never had Draco felt so shamed in his life as he quivered with immeasurable anger.

Even Slytherins were having a laugh at his expense!

However, before he could do anything, Professor McGonagall stormed into the room, looking completely livid. She grabbed Seamus by his ear, twisted it painfully, and began dragging him out of the hall, shouting at the top of her voice.

"50 points from Gryffindor for this horribly inappropriate prank!" as Seamus, who was laughing and wincing in pain at the same time, was hauled from the Great Hall. "Never have I seen anything more degrading..."

Malfoy, loosing all semblance of control, rushed over to the Gryffindor table, Crabbe and Goyle in quickstep behind them, pounding their fists into the palms of their hands.

Harry and Ron were both rolling on the ground with laughter, but quickly straightened themselves out as Malfoy approached.

"Whose idea was it!" growled Draco beastly, his wand pointed at Harry.

Harry and Ron both exchanged mischievous glances and smiled.

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Malfoy," said Ron snidely, his lips pursed into a smirk. "He's a lucky man to have her."

"Goyle, Crabbe... take this red-headed mongrel to the bathroom and flush that melon of his down the toilet!" ordered Draco scathingly. "You will all pay for this insult!"

Goyle and Crabbe both lunged at Ron, whose eyes widened. Harry, seeing Ron's predicament, drew his wand but Draco was too fast for him.

"Expellarmis!" roared Draco, as Harry's wand soared out of his hand and into his.

Draco's upperhand, however, was quickly ended as suddenly, Draco felt a huge impact on his side. An unidentified attacker plowed into him and lifted him onto the Hufflepuff table. To Draco's disbelief, Neville Longbottom, who had come out of nowhere, was now slugging him in the side.

Both boys rolled down the length of the table, accumulating the lunches of Hannah Abbot, Justin Finch-Fletchly and Ernie MacMillean as they rolled.

And, at that point, all hell broke loose.

"They've attacked our champion!" shouted Pansy Parkinson over the din, pointing angrily as Neville and Draco exchanged blows upon the Hufflepuff table. "Slytherins, blast those Gryffindors back to their Muggle loving families!"

Wasting no time, every Slytherin from age eleven to seventeen, stood up, some drawing wands, and some rolling up sleeves and charged the Hufflepuff table to do combat with the Gryffindors.

"Oh no..." cried Justin Flitch-Fletchly as he moaned with resignation. All of the Hufflepuffs dove under their table as the civil war of the Great Hall erupted.

"The only good Slytherin is a hexed one!" cried Colin Creevey's voice over the din as he drew his wand, and charged the Hufflepuff table. Every Gryffindor, spurred into action, leapt to their feet and charged after him.

"Curse em all!" cried Ginny Weasley, who leapt on top of the Hufflepuff table and dove at the nearest Slytherin, who happened to be Millicent Bulstrode. It was clear to Draco that she would quickly regret her choice in opponent.

Draco quickly lost sight of individual people as the Slytherins and the Gryffindors plowed into each other in a casting and fighting frenzy, turning the Hufflepuff table, which unfortunately separate the two of them, into a battleground.

* * * * * *

"Never in my seventy years at Hogwarts have I encountered such sophomoric behavior!" screeched Professor McGonagall, fifteen minutes later. It had taken a combined effort of all of the faculty to break up the huge brawl, stunning and leg locking students without prejudice. She seemed to resemble something of a banshee, with her thin features screaming loudly and powerfully enough to fill three Great Halls.

The Great Hall was in utter shambles. The Hufflepuff table, where the huge battle had taken place between the two flanking Gryffindor and Slytherin tables, was in splinters. Every window in the great hall was shattered and, somehow, even the walls had been cracked. Draco had no idea who had used spells that powerful... but he was upset they missed.

Only a Slytherin would take a fight THAT seriously.

Draco sported a black eye, while Neville's nose was bleeding sufficiently. Not a single person in Gryffindor, Slytherin and inadvertently Hufflepuff, was without some kind of hex or physical injury of some kind.

Potter has ears three times bigger than normal... ha... that's funny. Thought Draco as Harry glared at the floor, with elephant ears folding down over his face.

"Three hundred points from both Gryffindor and Slytherin!" screamed the enraged Professor. "Also, Quiddich teams will be disbanded for both teams, and Slytherin's house cup from LAST YEAR will be given to House Ravenclaw! And I ASSURE you," Professor McOneStepAwayFromACorninary continued to scream, "if you think I've taken away everything I can, just try me! Just try me!"

"Um, excuse me... Professor," asked Draco, trying to sound innocent. "But, that puts both our houses into negative numbers. Does that mean next year, do we start with points missing from it?"

"Yes!" screeched the Head of House Gryffindor.

"Oh, ducky," said Draco snidely. "I'm graduating."

This drew a laugh from all the seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins.

McGonagall did not find that funny.

"Get out of my sight, all of you!" she shouted. "You are a disgrace to the founders of your house!"

"But, wait," asked Harry, trying to sound innocent as well. It was clear to Draco that Harry was just as infuriated as Draco at Professor McGonagall for canceling Quiddich. "Didn't Slytherin and Gryffindor kill each other in a duel to the death?"

Professor McSuddenlyShotDown paled over. "That... is inaccurate."

"Potter's right, Professor," said Draco charmingly. "I think we did them proud this day."

"All of you, get out of my sight!" repeated Professor McGonagall as she stormed out of the room.

The Slytherins and the Gryffindors stared at each other for a moment.

"Well, she left... that makes it easier," commented Ron absentmindedly.

Professor Dumbledore, who had been trying to hide his own amusement from behind his Deputy Headmaster, slowly took a stand.

"Three hundred points to Slytherin and Gryffindor for... doing the founders proud... Quiddich teams will be reinstated and the House Cup will be taken from the Ravenclaws and given back to the Slytherins."

The half of the school present in the hall all laughed joyously.

Professor Dumbledore then looked at each house fiercely. "But, don't make them too proud... if this ever happens again, I will not hesitate to stop smiling."

Each of the students nodded solemnly, even Draco. Getting on the Headmaster's bad side would not be prudent.

"Anyway," said Dumbledore, clapping his hands together. Suddenly, the pieces of the Hufflepuff table glued themselves back together; the glass of the windows suddenly repaired, and the cracks in the wall sealed up. All of the students blinked with amazement. "Run along now."

Not questioning their fortune, every student began to rush out of the hall, heading back to their Common Rooms.

Maybe he's not so bad, reasoned Draco, as he turned to go as well. I never really gave him much credit...

"Oh, one more thing," said the Headmaster, with a twinkle in his eyes. "Fifty points to Seamus Finnigan for the funniest prank I've ever seen in the history of my stay at Hogwarts."

Die, Dumbledore, die... repeated Draco mentally, in a frenzied mantra while the Gryffindor's all laughed and began to accolade Seamus, who was in silent awe of himself. Harry and Ron lifted him onto their shoulders and the swarm took him from the hall.

* * * * * *

"Draco, for god sake, stop doping yourself up!" grunted Crabbe, as he stole Draco's wand from him.

Draco's eyes, spinning around psychedelically, slowly fixed themselves on Crabbe. "When my father finds out about today... the Howler... he'll kill Finnigan... and then he will kill me for not killing Finnigan myself... I want to make sure I cannot feel it when he tries."

"You have a drug addiction problem," repeated Crabbe firmly, holding Draco's wand away from him.

They were both sitting in the library, staring dumbfoundedly at the golden star that Draco had received from hexing his centaur opponents and stealing their treasure in the obstacle course Dumbledore had set up in the basement of Hogwarts. So far, his best attempts to discover what sort of clue this was had failed.

"Alright fine," said Draco, his eyes swirling hypnotically. "We need to... work on... the CLUE..."

Crabbe grunted and put Draco's wand into the fold of his robes. He reached across the table and plucked the star off the table. "No, Malfoy. We are going to Snape and you are going to tell him your problem."

"What!" exclaimed Draco, his gray eyes blinking rapidly. "If we go to Snape, he'll kill me, and then he'll take away my stash of Malbery Wild Root extract and.... and... "

Draco was silenced by Crabbe hoisting him up and dragging him out of the library.

"It does not matter much, does it?" demanded the large boy. "Either you let Snape kill you, or your father kill you."

"Er... ok. We'll talk to Snape."

Crabbe grunted in affirmation.

* * * * * *

The trip down to Snape's laboratory was uneventful, save for the mass of kids who pointed and laughed at Draco at every turn. It was like Hogwarts had turned upside down for him as a result of Finnigan's prank. He did not know how the dim-witted Irish boy had forged a howler from his father, but when he had his revenge, Finnigan would pay dearly.

There are two things a Malfoy never forgets: an insult or an ass

At last, Draco and Crabbe entered their House Heads office, to find his head buried into his hands in a fitful slumber, with several potions overflowing next to him on a burner.

"Um, sir?" asked Draco curiously, prodding him.

"No..." murmured Snape feebly, "not behind the bush... don't look..."

Draco blinked with confusion and looked to Crabbe, who grunted and shrugged his shoulders.

"Professor!" exclaimed Draco louder, nudging him with more force.

"Weasley... Boot... No... no..."

"PROFESSOR!" shouted Draco, shoving Snape's shoulder.

"Good God, they are snogging!" screamed Snape as he leapt out of his chair, knocking it over. His arm swung out arm and knocked one of his potions to the ground, shattering it by accident. "Ugh..." he groaned, and then realized Draco and Crabbe were standing in front of them. "What are you two doing in here?" he snapped gruffly, clearly not being in a good mood.

"Sorry Professor, you looked busy," managed Draco snidely. He then looked to Crabbe who nodded firmly. "Can... I talk to you, about a problem I have?"

Snape did not seem to be looking at Draco. Instead, he was grabbing for a bottle of gray liquid marked with a slip of parchment as Dreams Begone. He guzzled it quickly, wiping the tears from his sunken, black-bagged eyes.

"You really are bent out of this shape about this Weasley and Boot thing, aren't you?" pressed Draco.

Snape supported his weight by placing the palms of his hands upon the table. "... it reminds me of something that happened to me when I was younger."

Draco chortled once, unable to hide a mocking snort. "I don't think I want to know, sir."

Snape looked up at Draco, and let the comment die. "What did you want, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Wealth and good-looks," said Draco arrogantly, "but, since I have those already, I'll settle for a confession of a dark little secret of mine."

Snape's eyes widened with terror. "... how dark?"

Draco bit his lip nervously, wondering again if this was such a good idea. Drug addiction and dealing could very well get him expelled, he realized. But, Snape would not rat on the Tri-Wizard Champion, would he?

"It could get me into a lot of trouble if the right people knew. It is not what you would consider... a clean situation," continued Draco.

Snape began to shake wildly. "I... don't think I'm the right person to be telling your little secret to."

"But," pressed Draco, tapping his finger to his chin with a slightly nervous figit. "You are the only person I think I can trust with it. It's very personal."

"Farbleglabbermabo," whimpered Snape as he nearly fell over in traumatic shock. "Not you too, Draco... please."

"It's how my family is successful," frowned Draco, shifting uneasily. "I sometimes... once in awhile, mind you... do the Slytherin boys... er... enchanting favors for money, and well, sometimes Seamus Finnigan. He's addicted to my stuff too, may he burn in hell."

Snape grabbed at the air in front of him, clenching his fists tightly. He let loose a traumatized, high pitched, feminine shriek, before fainting away dead onto the ground.

Crabbe simply looked at Draco sternly as his eyes wandered from the unconscious form of their Head of House. "Did you really have to do that to him?"

Draco nodded solemnly. "I just had to see if the rumor about him was true."

"Which one?" asked Crabbe.

"Whether or not he could sing in soprano... based on that scream, I'm beginning to think 'yes'."

Crabbe could not refrain from dope slapping his friend and scolding him firmly. "Bad Draco!"

* * * * * *

Snape came to a moment later, though he was mumbling something about 'Malfoy, Weasley, Finnigan and Boot'... Draco could not help to be particularly proud of himself.

"Are you quite alright, sir?" asked Draco, beaming maliciously.

"You... you... stay away from me!" cried Snape, shuffling away from Draco like some sort of crazed, demented monkey. "You... Finnigan... favors for other Slytherin boys..."

"I'm a drug dealer," confessed Draco in a bored tone, raising his eyes and hands to the air dully.

At once, Snape immediately lost that frenzied, beastlike quality and rose from the ground, his composure returning. "Oh..." he said, his normal spidery voice returning. "Yes, I guessed you were going there with this."

"I'm sure you did, Professor," said Draco, the slightest hit of a smirk appearing on his face.

"You know dealing narcotics goods and/or enchantments is against school policy," lectured Snape coldly.

"True," commented Draco flatly, "that is why I came to you. I did not see you having your smartest student expelled, or taking points away from Slytherin."

Snape did not need to consider that for very long. "Granted. Then, why did you come to see me with this problem of yours?"

"Well," fidgeted Draco as Crabbe continued to stare at him forcefully. "I also... er... wanted to let you know that I'm addicted to narcotics... and... er... Crabbe thinks it is bad for me."

"Mr. Crabbe thinks?" blinked Snape in confusion.

"Er... yeah," murmured Draco while Crabbe grunted and rolled his eyes. "He thinks its bad."

"No..." trailed off Snape emphatically. "I mean... Mr. Crabbe thinks?"

Crabbe groaned and mumbled a few things under his breath.

"Amazing, isn't it?" questioned Draco, staring over to Crabbe sweetly. "But anyway, can you help me overcome my addiction?"

"Well," began Snape, looking down at the potions upon his desk and then shooting a glance over to his cabinets. "There are a few things we can try... though all but one may result in diarrhea, loss of hair, genital cramps, decreased appetite, errectial dysfunction, death, hemorrhages, hallucinations and colon swelling."

Draco stared at Snape dubiously. "Is that all?"

"Well, they can also result in..." he looked around timidly and the whispered to Draco. "... shrinkage."

"Of all things," muttered Draco drably. "As if errectial dysfunction, death and colon swelling was not enough... what is the one without that stuff?"

"You will need to come with me to a therapy group... where you will talk about your problem and listen to other people's problems."

Draco's skin paled with horror. "Second thought, mix me up one of those penis destroying, bum swelling, screw-you-up-bad elixirs."

He grunted as Crabbe elbowed him and shook his head.

"Ugh... so, when do we leave?" he moaned with resignation.

* * * * * *

Professor Snape and Draco stepped out from the fireplace and entered a large hall, filled to the brim with people of all shapes and sizes. A large stage was in the front, and as they entered, a larger man with enormous breasts was speaking.

"... and so I drank the potion... and grew these!"

He pointed down to his very ample chest. A sigh of sympathy echoed around the hall, and in unison, everyone began to speak. "It is alright, Winefreed, you are still loved."

"Uh-uh," stated Draco hastily, as he made a break back for the fireplace. Snape's arm stopped him however, as he looked down at him.

"It's either this or the snapping of the wand..." said Snape sternly.

With a sigh, Draco turned back, just in time to see a very short man, approximately the size of a goblin approach and look up at Draco and Professor Snape.

"Welcome back, Severus. Who is your little friend?" he asked as he waved his wand circularly at Snape. A zap of purple flickered into Snape's chest and a nametag appeared

Hello, my name is Severus Snape

Draco raised his upper lip disdainfully. "Little? Look whose talking!"

"One of my students," said Professor Snape monotonically. "Draco Malfoy."

The man waved his wand at Draco with an understanding nod.

"No wait... stop...!" yelped Draco, attempting to hide behind his teacher, however, he was not fast enough to avoid the ray of purple completely. It struck his left arm solidly, and patch appeared.

Hello, my name is Draco Malfoy

Draco rolled his eyes skywards and breathed out a sigh of impatience. "Rape..."

The little man chuckled. "Don't worry, young sir, you will love it here." With that, he walked away.

Draco shot a pleading look to Snape, who simply grabbed Draco's arm and force-marched him into the audience as a middle-aged woman took up stance upon the stage.

"Hello everyone, my name is A.K Strolling, and I have a problem." she said solemnly.

"Hello Ms. Strolling," replied the crowd in one montonic voice. Draco groaned and slumped into a chair in resignation. "What seems to be your problem?"

"Well," she began, as Draco prepared to take a nap. "I'm stuck on this book I'm writing... I've written four before... but... every time I try to write... the character's just refuse to cooperate!"

Draco rolled his eyes and looked to Snape. "Can we please leave!"

Severus Snape shook his head, swinging his greasy black hair from side to side. "Sure, if you wish to be expelled for drug dealing on school grounds."

"Barf," replied Draco tactfully, as he settled in, idly listening about A.K. Strolling's dysfunctional characters not cooperating with each other, particularly one with messy black hair, green eyes and glasses. Draco could not help but wonder if such looks were the traits of all morons, or just Harry Potter.

Finally, it was Professor Snape's turn, as at last, Uncle Ethelfred was taken away by wizard's in white coats. Yet, to Draco's chagrin, it was not after declaring he was the sole emissary of the cabbage patch kids and must defend the honor of his Rudolph, the red-nose stripper.

With a calm gait, the Professor took the stage and introduced himself. After receiving a warm welcome, he began to speak.

"My problem is simple," he explained factually, with a great deal of calm. "Everywhere I look, I find little boys kissing each other."

The entire crowd sighed with sympathy.

"It all started when I was fifteen," began Snape, his voice wavering. "I was a Slytherin at Hogwarts... and I had four worst enemies that would never leave me alone: Remus Lupin, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black. They would torment me like no other."

"One day, I learned of the secret place they would often hang out every month by sleeping with Lily Evans, the proclaimed Hogwarts Express... no one attending school at Hogwarts hadn't had a ride. After comparing my style to James' down to durability, stamina and pleasurably, she let slip the fact that she was knocked up by him for first time in some shack, and told me how to get there, for future sessions."

The thought of undignified retreat seemed mighty good to Draco as he considered making a dart for the Floo Shoot. Nonetheless, however, the sex life of Professor Snape would be one thing that he could repeat again and again over school, without it getting boring. He decided to stick around.

"So anyway, I entered this tunnel she spoke of and... and... arrived on the... the..." Professor Snape took a moment to steady himself as the tears rolled down his cheek. A character who looked very much like Lord Voldemort walked up to him, gave him a hug, and handed him a tissue.

"Remus Lupin was... was... in werewolf form, and was li... licking... Sirius ... James Potter then dragged me out of the tunnel and forced me to say that he saved my life... but only we knew the truth..."

Unable to contain himself, Snape broke down into sobs, drawing sighs from everyone. "Ever since then... I have given up... I have found little Hogwarts boys behind bushes, writing love letters to each other... they are all out to get me..."

My third year DADA teacher and an escaped mass murderer used to lick each other? Draco felt very light-headed indeed.

"Don't worry Severus Snape," replied everyone in kind tones. "You are well loved here."

Snape nodded a few times, gasping for air. "Thank you..."

With that, Snape moved back to his chair and sat down, the tears still streaming down his hawk-like features. Draco tried very hard not to laugh. He lifted his eyes from Snape and then back to the crowd. Everyone was staring at him now with waiting expressions.

Oh by Merlin... it's my turn...

"Go on," coaxed Snape through his grief. "It helps... to just let it all out."

"Uh... right..." murmured Draco as he rose shakily, and, with all eyes following him, he took the stage. There was an awkward moment of silence while everyone looked to him with kind tolerance.

"Er... Hi... my name is Draco... and er..."

"Hello, Draco," replied everyone. "Welcome to our meeting. Know you are well loved here."

Draco's face contorted with inner pain. "Thanks," he replied, very miserably. "Anyway, um... that's it."

"Oh no, Draco," stated the man who looked very much like Lord Voldemort... in fact, it must have been. After all, how many people had red eyes and skeleton-like skin and wore a nametag saying: Hello, my name is: You-Know-Who? "Please continue. What is your problem exactly?"

"Er..." began Draco, with a frown. "That's sort of personal."

"Well, this is a bleeding support group for a reason!" cried out a voice from in back. "Speech! Speech!"

"Fine," said Draco with a huff. "I dope up my fellow classmates, I dope up myself, my best friend thinks I'm going to snort my wand under water, my worst enemy slept with my mother and compared unit length with my father, my dad serves the gentleman in the front, as do all his friends, and he wants me to serve him or else he will renounce me from the family millions," (Voldemort took a slight bow) "and I have about fifteen dwarves dressed in spandex under my bed."

The support group all sighed with sympathy.

"What drug do you use?" asked a sympathetic looking woman from the front.

"Er... the Intoxicadus Hex," explained Draco.

At once, about half of the room gasped and booed, making Draco flush with embarrassment.

"The Intoxicadus Hex!" shouted a short, bald man that seemed to resemble the Minister of Magic. "I used to suck lad for cocaine! Have you ever sucked lad for the Intoxicadus Hex?"

Draco blinked and shook his head. "Er... no. No, I cannot say I have."

"Yeah," muttered the man. "I didn't think so..." he sat down, and looked distant.

"Yeah, well," grumbled Draco indignantly. "I guess that's all. I like it, it makes me feel good, and I don't think I'll stop."

"Draco," said Voldemort kindly, from the front row. "You must understand. Here, we are all friends. Some of us have done things in life we are not proud of. Some people have written only four books and stalled on the fifth, some murder hundreds, get resurrected from the dead, but despite it all, wear a frown on the inside..."

The crowd interrupted Voldemort with a slight sigh of sympathy.

"... and others are beyond salvation and need to be shot, like Uncle Ethelfred... but you are not to that point, young Malfoy. When you step through those doors, you are family, regardless who you are, and we will help you." Voldemort held up his finger sagely. "The first step to recovery is acknowledging you have a problem."

Draco frowned wryly and looked down at his feet. "I guess I am addicted."

"Draco, here is what I suggest," continued Voldemort. "Whenever you feel the urge to get intoxicated, ask yourself why. When the answer comes to you, take a deep breath, tell yourself that 'spring is warm and flowers bloom,' count to ten, click your heels together and your need to get intoxicated will go away."

The audience began to applaud slowly, while Draco arched his brows in confusion. "Er... thanks I guess. Anyway..."

"Time's up," said everyone at once.

Draco frowned and stepped off the stage, to be replaced by the Dark Lord.

"Hello, my name is You-Know-Who, and I have a problem. I am addicted to the Killing Curse and Durmstrang women..."

"Hello You-Know-Who, know that you are loved here..."

* * * * * *

"Well," asked Crabbe as Draco stalked down the Slytherin dungeon, to his dormitory. "How'd it go?"

"Great," stated Draco happily. He had just returned a moment ago from his meeting with Snape, and was going to get prepared for bed. "Now, I'm going to reward myself to one dwarf in spandex."

Crabbe groaned, but let that pass. "So, you fix the problem?"

"Yep," replied Draco. Further words were stolen from his lips, however, by the door to the fourth year dorms breaking open with a rush of magic. Loud dance music filled the hallway and stopped Draco and Crabbe abruptly, as Malcolm Baddock rushed out, wearing little more than his shorts and very large, swirling eyes.

"Whoa, Draco!" cooed Malcolm, with a staggered expression, as a half-naked fifth year girl, a Ravenclaw by Draco's guess, began to pull him back into the room. "Thanks for the stuff man... can we have some more?"

Draco raised his upper lip with amusement and held out his hand. "Wands."

Crabbe looked horrified as the entire party began piling wands upon wands in Draco's hand. "I thought you said the meetings had helped!" he yelped, forgetting to be stupid in public view.

"They did," said Draco aloofly, before turning back to Malcolm. "It'll cost ya ten galleons a wand, no Slytherin discount since this is a rush job."

"Hurry!" yelped Malcolm, as the entire student body waited anxiously. Draco began his work on charming the wands with intoxication hits. After a moment, he was about one hundred galleons richer and free of annoyance, as the students went back into the dormitory. Draco waved his wand once and repaired the door that had been blown up by something Draco did not want to know.

"Why the heck would I stop dealing narcotic charms, just because some people at some meeting say they loved me? I may be adorable, but I'm not a pushover."

Crabbe grunted trollishly and shook his head. "You are not adorable."

"Yes I am," replied Draco. "I'm adorable like that little monster in the funnies... he's so cute, but when you tickle his chin, he suddenly grows four foot long teeth and bites your arm off."

"You really have a strange way of seeing yourself, don't you?" noticed Crabbe pointfully.

Draco smirked devilishly and he entered their dorm room. "Oh, stop with the Freud meets Fat routine... look, if it makes you feel better, I won't be doping myself up anymore, for awhile."

"Oh?" asked Crabbe, indeed looking more relieved. "So, you have become more in touch with your inner spirit and realized that artificial stimulants are just not the..."

"Hell no," snorted Draco, as he flopped down upon his bed. "I have a beef to settle with Seamus Finnigan. I'll bleed him, I'll humiliate him, I'll stuff him, I'll bleed him, I'll..."

"If you say 'rape', I'll have to scream like a girl and run away," informed Crabbe.

"When I'm done with him, the closest he'll ever get to a woman is a mental picture while wanking off in the shower," proclaimed Draco proudly.

Crabbe rolled his eyes. "That is already reality... try another one."

"Right," murmured Draco, folding his arms behind his head and sinking deeply into his pillow. "Don't you worry. There are other things I can do... oh, so many other things..."