Title: Draco Malfoy and the Flawless Plan
Author:
marguerite_26Rating/Warnings: NC-17 *under-age wanking*
Word Count: ~1680
Challenge: Written for
lttlelolaPrompts: Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, quidditch, bludger
Dialogue: "Um... think we should tell Fred and George what their new product really does?"
Summary: Draco has the perfect plan to get Potter expelled.
Author's Note Beta credit to the wonderful
anthimaeria who cleaned this fic up immensely. Any mistakes are me playing around after I received it back.
Draco Malfoy and the Flawless Plan
“I’ve got it,” Draco announced, strutting into the common room with a small brown package.
Glancing past Vince and Greg, he quickly eyed the room. His mouth twisted into a well-practised scowl when he spotted the pair of fourth years who always seemed to be studying at the back table while the genuine Slytherins had retired to parts unknown to plan (or do) sinister things. Immediately, the two should-have-been-Ravenclaws took an equally well-practised escape to their dorm, probably to do more studying.
Draco resisted a sigh. He had more important things to think about than Sorting Hat mishaps.
“I’ve got it,” he repeated.. There was little hope that his two beefy friends would have remembered his declaration from ninety-three seconds ago.
As expected, Vince and Greg shared a confused look. No chance these two should have been in Ravenclaw.
“I’ve got the way to get Potter expelled.” Draco explained smugly, fully expecting impressed nods. Harry Potter’s expulsion was, after all, a very impressive achievement.
“Again?” Vince blurted, and instantly looked like he wanted to swallow his own tongue. Draco didn’t take well to insubordination. It wasn’t long ago that he’d cursed Vince with crabs. Vince certainly hadn’t forgotten that entire month when he had not once been referred to as simply Crabbe. In fact, the many variations were quite astounding. Millie Bulstrode had a gift for such things.
Appropriately, Vince squirmed.
Draco raised an eyebrow to indicate he’d figure out a proper punishment later.
“This time, we have Umbridge as Headmistress. And this,” he held out the box “is the best plan I’ve ever had.”
His eyes sparkled with malice and just a little desperation. Carefully, he opened the box. Inside were two vials with bright Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes labels.
NEW! The Perfect Match
Patented Daydream Charm - Quidditch Version.
Sleeping though History of Magic? Star in your ultimate fantasy Quidditch game while your friends drool on their desks.
The Perky Penis
Feeling a little wilted? Enjoy an instant erection that will stand tall and last long. Satisfaction guaranteed.
Warning! If romance fails you, be prepared to take matters into your own hands: this wily willy won’t be ignored!
Vince stared at the bottles in confusion, reading and re-reading the labels and trying fruitlessly to figure out The Master Plan. Greg just gazed longingly at The Perky Penis.
Draco gave them their moment of silent contemplation without any true expectation of their ability to grasp his plan without the use of short words (and possibly colourful drawings) before finally giving in.
“I’m going to get Potter expelled for being a pervert. How brilliant is that? The Prophet will have a field day. Umbridge, that stuck-up old prude, will not hesitate to kick out Potter for using this,” he pried The Perky Penis from Greg’s sweaty palms, “while in class.”
Vince the (slightly) smarter of the two finally asked. “But how are you going to get him to drink it?”
Draco’s smile was beyond manic.
OooooO
“You aren’t going to drink that, are you, Harry?”
“Come on, Hermione. It’s from Fred and George,” Ron said between bites of toast.
“All the more reason, in my opinion.”
“Harry’s banned from Quidditch this year. There was no Quidditch last year. Do you know what that does to a guy like him? He’s driving me insane.”
“Hey!” Harry looked up from the vial that just arrived with the morning post.
“Well, you are pretty grumpy,” Hermione conceded.
“Hey!”
Ron grinned approvingly at Harry proving his point. “See! He deserves a little break. Fred and George have it right.”
“But he shouldn’t take it during class.”
Harry and Ron exchanged a glance. “Of course not.”
OooooO
Draco waited patiently in the boys' loo closest to the History of Magic classroom. Not ten minutes after class had begun, the door slammed open, followed by The Boy Who Needed to Wank.
This plan was a thing of beauty. Draco had spent hours perfecting the sticking charm so that The Perfect Match label covered The Perky Penis label with a special condition - the false label slips off at the touch of Dolores Umbridge, revealing Potter's perversion to her and the world.
Not that wanting a huge, hard cock was perverted, but Potter wanting one during Binns’ class? That alone would be front page news. Rita Skeeter would give him royalties. Honestly, the necrophilia angle alone was worth a couple thousand galleons easy.
And now here was Potter, flushed and breathless, whipping out his wand - the holly one - to cast a locking charm on the door to the loo, and ducking down to check for feet in any of the stalls.
Draco, as clever as Potter was predictable, anticipated this and chose a wide pillar at the far end of the loo to hide behind. Until the proper time that is. Once Potter had his trousers around his ankles and his hands on the prize, a quick Petrificus Totalus would capture the moment perfectly. A wand tap on his Inquisitorial Squad badge and Umbridge would come running.
The plan was, as mentioned, beautiful. Flawless.
Except for one small problem. One small problem that kept getting bigger. And that problem resided in Draco’s designer trousers.
Harry Potter was no more than ten feet from him with his hands down his pants and making the most glorious keening noises. Desperate, needy, naughty sounds that somehow connected directly to Draco’s cock.
Sweat began to glisten on Potter’s nose and cheeks; his unruly hair was stuck to his forehead. His hands moved at a frantic pace inside his pants, brushing constantly against the open zip with each push-pull.
It was without a doubt the hottest thing Draco had ever seen. No porn magazine, no sex book, no fantasy had ever come close to the raw passion of Potter tossing off, fully dressed, in the boys' loo.
Draco palmed his aching erection, hoping to ease the pressure. It was impossible not to succumb to the sound of Potter's rhythmic slapping, groaning and gasping. Pressing turned to stroking, and soon he was rubbing frantically, wishing he was closer to Potter, thrusting against him, feeling Potter rock into him. Draco was desperate to feel that passion, to be consumed by it. Owned. Used.
Fuck, anything just as long as Potter was there and making those sounds.
Somewhere in the recesses of Draco’s thoughts was a plan that headed, full speed, to hell. But he couldn’t muster up the pride to manage anything but a whimper. Voldemort himself wouldn’t stand a chance against such a sight. Perhaps this was the ultimate weapon. The Horny Hero. Basilisks and Dark Lords beware; Harry Potter’s got a hard-on.
Suddenly Potter lost rhythm. With a few jerky thrusts, he came with something like a growl, back arched, his pretty mouth open wide and eyes shut tight.
The sight, the sounds of Potter coming were like liquid sex pouring into Draco’s eyes and ears, urging his hand harder, faster. A few strokes later, Draco grunted his completion.
When he opened his eyes, Potter was staring at him.
With all the grace of Longbottom in a Potions NEWT, Draco raced out the door.
OooooO
"Um... think we should tell Fred and George what their new product really does?" Ron asked, as if talking about a WWW product wasn’t the last possible thing Harry wanted to do at this moment.
“I told you, it doesn't do anything.” Harry shifted uncomfortably on the comfy couch in the common room.
“Well, we should tell them right? They should know you tried it.”
“I’m sure it was my fault, distracted or something…” Harry stuck his nose further into his book, hoping to hide his blush. He prayed for a Death Eater attack. Right now. Anything would be better than talking about this.
“Distracted? What could be better than the perfect Quidditch game?”
The look on Malfoy’s face as he climaxed flashed through Harry’s tortured brain. He buried his face in his hands. He was hard again. Just the thought that Draco had stood there and watched while…
“Maybe I was distracted with Voldemort. You know, he’s still trying to kill me.” Harry hated playing the Voldemort card, but this was an emergency. He felt only slightly guilty about the concerned look on Ron’s face.
“Just drop it, okay? I’m going to bed,” he said. To wank. Again.
OoooooO
“So, is Potter expelled?”
“No.” Draco gracefully flopped onto his favourite common room chair, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. It was his Everyone Stop Talking Pose.
“What happened?” Vince asked, oblivious to the meaning of The Pose.
Draco wanted to scream. Why did his friends - with the combined IQ of a Bludger - suddenly need to know everything?
“Nothing happened. Just - nothing. Shut up about it already.”
“Maybe it was Potter. Maybe there’s something wrong with his willy?” Goyle suggested, hopeful.
Draco wanted to scream, really loudly. There was absolutely nothing wrong with Potter’s willy. Nothing. Draco’s willy on the other hand - traitorous beast that it was - had major issues. It was taking too much interest in this conversation about Potter’s willy.
“That can happen sometimes. My Uncle Claudius…”
“I said shut up about Potter’s cock.“ Draco said, none too quietly. The two would-be Ravenclaws dashed for the door.
This had been his worst plan ever. Stupid Potter and his stupid gasping and sweating and thrusting. And his stupid, stupid come face.
“I’m going to bed,” he said. To wank. Again.
~fin~