Bingo, Ficlet Challenge #9: "That's Why The Slytherins All Sing"
Title: “That’s Why The Slytherins All Sing”
Summary: Written for the Ficlet Prompt #9: “What on earth inspires Malfoy to write ‘Weasley is our King’?”
Characters/Pairings: Draco Malfoy, various Slytherins
Genre: Gen/Humor
Beta: n/a
Rating/Warnings: PG-13/adult language
Medium: -
Word Count: 440
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: Yes.
If yes, your Tumblr username: sellotapedglasses
“I still can’t believe they picked that fumbling idiot for Keeper,” Draco remarked to his friends at the Slytherin table as he watched a pack of Gryffindors leave breakfast in the Great Hall with purpose, clearly going off to practice. Potter was in the lead, followed closely by his ginger lapdog and the rest of the sad crew they called a team. Yet they still managed victory over you somehow, came an errant thought but Draco waved it away impatiently before it bothered him too much.
“Mmm,” replied Pansy to his right as she chose a few apple slices from the bowl of fruit in front of them. She gave approximately zero shits about Quidditch, Draco knew, though when the time came to support her house and him, he had never seen a more dedicated and enthusiastic fan.
“Not much to choose from,” came Crabbe’s quiet voice to his left. Draco snorted in appreciation. Crab was the quietest of his two “bodyguards” but his quips when he spoke were actually rather amusing. He didn’t waste his breath. Draco sometimes wondered if it came from his inclination over the years to snap at the two of them when they said something stupid.
Across the table and a little further down, Alexander Harper, the fellow they had put on the team as the reserve Seeker, was a bit more interested in the topic. “I caught a bit of his flying last week,” he said through a mouth full of toast - Draco tried not to grimace -, “He’s an absolute wreck. He saved a few throws by accident, but I’m telling you, one distraction and he’s done.” He speared the grape on his plate as if to emphasize is point.
Draco scrunched his nose slightly at the lack of manners but replied thoughtfully, “We all witnessed his first practice, Harper. All it took was a rousing chant of ‘Gryffindors are losers’ to…” he trailed off and gazed blindly ahead as an idea began to take root.
“Draco?” Pansy asked as she waved a hand in front of his face, “Darling, snap out of it. We need to get to class.”
Draco allowed his eyes to refocus and he smirked at the table around him.
“How do you all feel about singing?”
Later that day.
“Ooh, get something about his mother in!”
“‘Weasley smells just like his mum’... uh…”
“Something something something dung?”
“Don’t be crass, we’re not going to use poop humour.”
“What about his dad?”
“‘Useless loser’ doesn’t rhyme with anything.”
“‘Ugly boozer?’”
“Is he? A ‘boozer’?”
“I ‘unno, but it rhymes.”
“For fuck’s sake, let’s just stick to Quidditch, please.”
Points earned: 20
Summary: Written for the Ficlet Prompt #9: “What on earth inspires Malfoy to write ‘Weasley is our King’?”
Characters/Pairings: Draco Malfoy, various Slytherins
Genre: Gen/Humor
Beta: n/a
Rating/Warnings: PG-13/adult language
Medium: -
Word Count: 440
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: Yes.
If yes, your Tumblr username: sellotapedglasses
“I still can’t believe they picked that fumbling idiot for Keeper,” Draco remarked to his friends at the Slytherin table as he watched a pack of Gryffindors leave breakfast in the Great Hall with purpose, clearly going off to practice. Potter was in the lead, followed closely by his ginger lapdog and the rest of the sad crew they called a team. Yet they still managed victory over you somehow, came an errant thought but Draco waved it away impatiently before it bothered him too much.
“Mmm,” replied Pansy to his right as she chose a few apple slices from the bowl of fruit in front of them. She gave approximately zero shits about Quidditch, Draco knew, though when the time came to support her house and him, he had never seen a more dedicated and enthusiastic fan.
“Not much to choose from,” came Crabbe’s quiet voice to his left. Draco snorted in appreciation. Crab was the quietest of his two “bodyguards” but his quips when he spoke were actually rather amusing. He didn’t waste his breath. Draco sometimes wondered if it came from his inclination over the years to snap at the two of them when they said something stupid.
Across the table and a little further down, Alexander Harper, the fellow they had put on the team as the reserve Seeker, was a bit more interested in the topic. “I caught a bit of his flying last week,” he said through a mouth full of toast - Draco tried not to grimace -, “He’s an absolute wreck. He saved a few throws by accident, but I’m telling you, one distraction and he’s done.” He speared the grape on his plate as if to emphasize is point.
Draco scrunched his nose slightly at the lack of manners but replied thoughtfully, “We all witnessed his first practice, Harper. All it took was a rousing chant of ‘Gryffindors are losers’ to…” he trailed off and gazed blindly ahead as an idea began to take root.
“Draco?” Pansy asked as she waved a hand in front of his face, “Darling, snap out of it. We need to get to class.”
Draco allowed his eyes to refocus and he smirked at the table around him.
“How do you all feel about singing?”
Later that day.
“Ooh, get something about his mother in!”
“‘Weasley smells just like his mum’... uh…”
“Something something something dung?”
“Don’t be crass, we’re not going to use poop humour.”
“What about his dad?”
“‘Useless loser’ doesn’t rhyme with anything.”
“‘Ugly boozer?’”
“Is he? A ‘boozer’?”
“I ‘unno, but it rhymes.”
“For fuck’s sake, let’s just stick to Quidditch, please.”
Points earned: 20