With a Twist of Lemon

~With a Twist of Lemon~

By Pansie Goodlay and Neuri

RR: Thank you so much for coming here and agreeing to do this interview! I know how the two of you value your privacy.

Before we begin, can I offer you gentleman any refreshments?

DM: A Chinotto, with a wedge of lemon.

HP: Don't be difficult. This is an office, not a cafe...

DM: A Chinotto with a wedge of lemon. Please.

RR: (looks worried) Yes, well...I'll certainly see what I can do. Was that one wedge of lemon or two?

DM: One.

[RR summons her assistant, who dutifully agrees to trek across the road to fetch the requested beverage]

RR: Mr Potter? Did you want anything to drink?

HP: No. I'm fine thank you.

RR: Right! We'll get started then. I'm sure our readers will be eager to know how exactly you two got together. Was it love at first sight? A growing, mutual attraction, maybe? Wild teenage hormones?

DM: Quidditch.

RR: I see... Quidditch?

DM: Quidditch trousers. I was as straight and narrow as a two by four, until Potter strolled into the locker rooms one afternoon, dressed in a very worn pair of Quidditch trousers.

RR: (scribbles in her notebook) Worn, you say?

DM: Frightfully so. Threadbare, frayed, patched, indecently snug.

HP: I think she gets your drift, Malfoy.

RR: (looks up from her note taking) Do you always refer to each other by your last names?

DM: I'm a very formal sort of person.

RR: Ok. So you developed an attraction to Harry after catching sight of him in these, err, trousers?

HP: Not really. He'd been watching me all year. Only I wasn't very quick on the uptake and assumed he was plotting something evil.

DM: What makes you think I wasn't?

HP: (looks curious) Were you?

DM: I was plotting and I succeeded in my cunning plan. Think hard.

HP: (nodding) Ah, you're the Gryffindor Tower Underwear Pilferer then.

DM: Judge, jury and executioner. (Turns to RR). Isn't he adorable when he gets it right?

RR: Quite. So Draco, you stole Harry's underwear?

DM: (blinks) Well yes. This is the nature of Underwear Pilfering after all. It was a group effort. All the cool Slytherins were in on it. Only I drew the short straw and had to sneak past the Pink Wench.

HP: Fat Lady.

DM: Fat lady, and infiltrate Gryffindor HQ.

RR: To steal Harry's undies?

DM: To steal everyone's undies. It would have been blatant favouritism to make off with only Potter's daks. But yes, I already had my eye on him then.

HP: It was a great mystery to us. We assumed the House Elves were angry about the drunken binge we had after winning the House Cup, yet again. I told Ron that his chunder wasn't going to wash off the drapes...

RR: Sounds like you boys had an excellent time at school.

DM: Most assuredly. What with all those broom closets.

HP: And the Astronomy Tower.

DM: Let's not forget Greenhouse Number Three.

HP: Ah yes. Bobotuber fumes can be quit pretty in the evening light...

RR: So, tell me, when exactly did the relationship commence?

DM: Why, right there in the locker rooms, of course. Once the ratty Quidditch trousers were off, it was 'green means go'.

HP: I was wearing green undies that day, you see. A rather tight, artery constricting pair I dug up from the back of my drawer.

RR: Yes, because all your other underpants were stolen.

DM: Not really. He just likes tight jocks.

HP: I could say so much at this point...

DM: Better not. You're a pretty boy, but your witty repartee is severely lacking.

HP: (shrugs) Actions speak louder than words.

DM: Your actions that afternoon most definitely spoke some loud words.

RR: Weren't you afraid of getting caught?

DM: We were caught.

HP: I'll never forget the look on Snape's face. He was the umpire for the match that day, and came in to see what all the screaming was about.

DM: Poor man thought we were trying to do each other in.

HP: Once again, the pun potential.

DM: Hee-hee. Yes, that's just crying out for 'punnage' isn't it?

RR: You're referring to Professor Severus Snape? Potions Master at Hogwarts and Head of Slytherin?

DM: That's him, yes. Frightfully sombre individual. Got the social skills of a pickle and onion sandwich. But he's a snappy dresser. I'll give him that.

HP: (nodding) Can't go wrong with basic black.

DM: (looks at Harry fondly) You're learning.

HP: (returns the fond look) You're a good teacher.

[Both boys lean over for a long, wet, snog. RR clears her throat when her assistant enters the office, bearing a glass of Chinotto with a wedge of lemon.]

DM: Oh, good (takes drink).

HP: Manners, Malfoy.

DM: (winks at RR's assistant) Excellent work, darling. You'll have your own gossip column in no time. No more paper cuts and coffee making for you! Soon, you'll be able to afford that sharp, new suit you've probably had on lay away at Gladrags these past few months.

HP: (groans)

[The assistant blushes furiously, before making a hasty retreat from the office. RR resumes her questioning.]

RR: Harry, how have your friends reacted to the news of you and Draco becoming an item?

HP: You mean excluding the incident when Ron threatened to jump from the North Tower?

DM: Oh! Oh! And the one where Hermione Granger hired that exorcist?

RR: Yes, excluding those?

HP: Well then I'd say everyone's been very accepting and understanding.

RR: And what about your colleagues at the Auror Academy?

HP: Oh, you know. I get the occasional 'Poof goes the Poofter' jokes when I Apparate. But when you've saved the wizarding world as many times as I have, they let you get away with bloody murder.

DM: Or in Potter's case, with shagging the resident Death Eater.

RR: (looks startled) Are you still a Death Eater, Draco?

DM: No, not anymore. I only joined to meet girls, but that didn't pan out.

HP: (shudders) Yeah, have you seen female Death Eaters?

DM: The recruitment drive was a big load of false advertising. They were still using the pamphlets from the sixties, the ones with Bellatrix Lestrange and my mum on the cover.

HP: The one with them in the giant martini glass? We have that pinned up in the boys' lavatories at Gryffindor Tower.

DM: (looking resigned) Yes. That's the one.

RR: Do you find that your respective backgrounds make for a more volatile relationship?

DM: (thinks for a moment) Sometimes. I'm used to the finer things in life, whereas Potter here is quite happy to go native.

HP: Asking your minions to sort Every Flavour Beans according to taste is not a luxury, Malfoy. It's a mental condition.

DM: (snorts) Fine then! The next time you bite into an earwax or bogey flavoured bean, don't come crying to me (scowls).

HP: Don't be mad. I appreciate your efforts to make our lives better.

DM: As well you should.

[Both boys share a brief, heated look before lunging at each other. Another steamy pash follows. RR makes a few final scribbles in her notebook before shutting it with a loud 'snap']

RR: I think that's all I'll need for now!

DM: (pulling away from Harry) You will of course tell us when the article comes out?

HP: Or we can just hear about it from Molly Weasley.

RR: I'll be sure to mail a copy to Malfoy Manor. If you boys will just pose for a final photograph, I'll have Colin take it and you can be on your way.

***