Harry Potter and the Raunchy Battle of the Sexes

The hottest day of the summer so far was drawing to a close and a drowsy silence lay over the large, square houses of Privet Drive. The only person left outside was a teenage boy who was lying flat on his back in a flowerbed outside number four. Or at least, the only person as far as that boy knew. Had he known who was hiding in a bush not thirty feet from him, he probably would have jumped up and tried to get his wand to hex his watcher.

Draco Malfoy sighed quietly and leaned against a tree. This is boring, he sighed. He's just lying there staring up. And here I thought he'd have some really interesting life in the summer...the Riviera, or Greece or something. Not...he glanced down again at the paper in his hands. ...Surry.

Though he would never admit it, Draco enjoyed watching Potter at such peace. It made him feel like he could have some peace, too, sometime. He'd come to the conclusion long ago that he and Potter were far more similar than either boy would ever admit out loud. Perhaps that's why they didn't get along. Opposites attract, don't they? But...I AM attracted to him, at least NOW I am. He went and got all gorgeous on me!

When Draco first saw Potter standing on the lawn, he'd almost squeaked (which would have given him away). But the young boy's mildly effeminate body, slightly long black curls, and long dark eyelashes had suddenly become very...very..very appealing. Draco shook himself. Voldemort wants him, it wouldn't be good to become attatched.

As the blonde finally came out of his musings, a rather large-- no, a rather enourmous boy about his own age had come (sideways) out the door of Number 4 Privet Drive. The fatty took two steps towards Potter, and then, perhaps deciding that much exertion was enough, called out. "MUM WANTS YOU TO WASH THE DISHES RIGHT AWAY!"

Potter sat up and called back, "Coming!" He stood, brushed the dirt and grass off of his noticably oversized cargo pants (What, is he planning on keeping a tank in those things? Draco wondered), and followed the large boy back into the house. Draco waited ten minutes before finally leaving his hiding space and walking up to the door. He gave three raps on the door and waited. Finally, it opened, and a large (although less large than the boy) red-faced man opened the door.

"Hell--!" The man took in Draco's robes for a split second before grabbing him by said robe and yanking him into the house, slamming the door behind him. "What the HELL do you think you're doing here, you...you freak! The neighbors might have seen you!"

Draco raised one eyebrow. "Yes? So?" As the man stuttered in fury, Draco whipped out his wand and pointed it at him. "I assume you're a Dursley. Where's Harry Potter?" If it was possible, Draco would have said that the man's face grew even redder. "Well?"

Vernon's eyes slid towards the door to the kitchen. He opened his mouth and bellowed "POTTER!"

The kitchen door swung open and Harry came out, towelling off a dish, "Whatever it is, PLEASE don't put me in the closet aga-- Malfoy?" From this close distance, Draco could note with distaste that the t-shirt that fit Harry so well seemed to be many years old, and the oversized pants were held up with a rope through the belt loops and with the bottoms safety pinned up so that he wouldn't trip over them. And the comment about the closet didn't go unnoticed either.

With his wand still pointed at Vernon, Draco raised one eyebrow. "Hello, Potter. Closet?"

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" The curious expression on Potter's face gave way to one of suspicion. "Are you on some sort of death eater business?" Draco merely smirked.

"Oh, no, Potter," he pulled something out of his pocket. "Order of the Phoenix business." With that, Draco opened his hand and blew the powdered asphodel at the other boy. The boy fell, dish and all. Draco heard a shriek and, keeping his wand pointed at Dursley at all times, lifted Potter so that the Boy who Lived was leaning on him, and said "Vehere!"

* * *

Draco grinned as Potter attempted to jump up in response to Voldemort's ennervate. He failed, of course, due to the magical chains that were wrapped tightly around the arms of both his body and his chair. The Boy who Lived blinked once or twice and then took in his new surroundings.

He was sitting at one end of a long, oval-shaped table. Down the rows were about thirty or forty other kids from Hogwarts. Potter looked at each of them in turn. He seemed surprised to see some non-Slytherins, most notably Terry Boot, a Ravenclaw. He clearly didn't recognize all of them, but as there were a number from Durmstrang, that wasn't too surprising. The boy's focus turned from the people to the room. There were candles hovering in the room, sort of like in the Great Hall at Hogwarts, but the candles were blue and gave off a soft white light. The room was blue as well, and not very well lit, but enough that you could see what you were doing and who you were with. The room was an oval shape to match the table, with three doors at each round end. The doors were all open, but they were enchanted so that you couldn't see what was through them from inside the room. You had to simply know. And knowing was something that Draco was very good at.

A moment or two passed before Voldemort stood and smiled serenely. "Welcome, Potter, to my new Order."

Draco watched Potter's eyes drag themselves wearily to Voldemort's face. He saw the blink of surprise when the other boy realized that Voldemort now looked more like his 16-year-old self than like the ugly ghoul he'd met in the graveyard only three months before. Draco smirked, remembering Voldemort's insistance that his new body be back in place before Potter arrived. Potter shook himself slightly and opened his mouth to ask the question he knew he should ask, almost like he was reciting a line. "New Death Eaters?"

Voldemort's smile turned into a grin. "No, no...this is the new generation of my followers, the Order of the Phoenix." Voldemort began walking slowly and dramatically down one side of the table as he spoke. "It sounds so much..nicer than Death Eaters, doesn't it? The Phoenixes. Also more appropriate. After all, I've been reborn." Voldemort-- no, Tom Riddle --stood directly next to Potter and chuckled. "Perhaps you should join as well, Harry," the name almost sounded like Parseltongue coming from the now-youthful mouth. "You, too, lived when you should have died..." Draco's eyes flickered back to Potter, and was disappointed by the reaction the green-eyed boy gave: a smirk reminiscent of Draco's own.

"So. You've got a spiffing new fan club of excited teenagers. What all do you do when you're not attacking muggles? Do you have sleepovers? If you do then I might join, I have this makeover spell I've been wanting to use for ages!" Draco was forced to stifle a laugh, Potter had put on a quasi-queer voice for the last bit and damnit, it was just a funny idea. Using his years of training, Draco quelled the compulsion to chuckle and maintained his dignity, merely raising one elegant eyebrow. Potter's eyes shifted to Draco and the raven-haired boy imitated his facial expression. Voldemort's eyes slid briefly to Draco before returning to Potter.

"On the contrary, these compatriots of yours are already well-trained in the dark arts, as well as in other ways. It's almost like an additional school we have here. Of course, it's very different from the Death Eaters, who were already fully-trained adult wizards."

"Do they still wear the dark mark?" Potter couldn't quite keep the curiosity out of his voice at this point.

Voldemort's smile never wavered as he motioned for Draco to show his mark. The blonde did as he was told, of course, shrugging his cloak off and tugging down his shirt so that Potter could see the very faint outline of a phoenix on his shoulder. "As you can see, it's much less detectable than the dark mark, and they're not always in the same place...I learn from my mistakes, you know."

Potter's eyes jumped back from Draco's shoulder to Voldemort. "Why are you telling me all this, anyway?"

"Oh, you won't be leaving here until I either die, or win. In either case, it won't matter one bit what you know when one or the other happens." Potter's eyebrow lifted again, but Voldemort just continued to smile. "Draco, take Potter to the room we have prepared for him. Stay with him this evening, as the rest of the base isn't yet prepared for his...stay."

The magical bonds on Potter's arms vanished. Draco stepped forward and took his wrist, pulling him roughly up from the chair. "I hope you're intelligent enough that I don't have to warn you to be good?"

A cheeky grin appeared on Potter's face. "Oh, don't worry, Malfoy, I'm very good. At all times. By the way, the way you guys have the candles in here makes them look like they're giving off sperm instead of flames." With a wink, Potter started walking towards the nearest door. Draco took great pleasure in yanking him by the arm in the other direction.

This may not be as fun as I'd hoped, Draco thought desperately as he kept a tight hold on the other boy's wrist.