Deadly Drabbles of Doom (H/D, PG-13)
Title: Deadly Drabbles of Doom
Author: sesheta_66
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Humour
Word Count: 100 (x 10 drabbles)
Challenges: dracoharry100's prompt of "dead" and 100quills' prompt 043 - "footsteps."
Summary: Ron learns the hard way to NEVER mess with a Malfoy.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
1.
"You're dead, Weasley!" screamed Draco, a mess of who knew what all over him. His new robes, his tie, his ... his ... his hair! "Eep!" he squealed before running to the dungeons to clean up.
He may be shagging Potter, and he may have promised to be nice to his friends -- an involuntary shudder ... er ... shuddered over him at that thought -- but Draco would NOT tolerate an attack on his hair. I mean, the nerve! What did that stupid weasel think he was doing? Did he not know whom he was dealing with?
Sweet revenge.
2.
Draco loved magic. He was able to use samples of Ron's and Hermione's handwriting (thank you very much, Harry) with a handy-dandy little spell (thank you very much, Blaise), and write letters that even Hermione couldn't identify as forgeries. Of course, a quick Revealing Charm would have done the trick, but why would either of them suspect anything? Ron was too daft, and Draco was pretty sure he hadn't let Hermione in on their "war of whatever" they were having. Surely she would have seen him dead. So here he was. Oh, revenge was so very sweet. Ron would learn.
3.
Dead silence. That's what awaited Ron as he entered the empty classroom, letter from Hermione clutched in his hand.
"Excellent," he thought. He had time to settle in, get ready. He had been waiting a long time for Hermione to make a play. After all, she was a very clever witch, and truth be told she scared him. He was rather fond of his bits, and wanted to keep them attached to his body, so he had never made a move. Until now.
He took another look at the letter. Meet me in the Charms classroom. Naked. 9:00. Love, Hermione.
4.
Draco had second thoughts for a fleeting moment. Just now he realized that he'd be seeing Weasley ... naked ... very soon in fact. He might drop dead from the shock of it. No. He wasn't a Malfoy for nothing. He had stamina. He could endure this.
Making sure his shoes were not visible under Harry's borrowed Invisibility Cloak, he began to move himself into position to get a good shot. Oh, yes. This would be perfect. First, he would get the incriminating pictures, then he would settle in to see the fireworks. Hermione should be along any time now.
5.
Another little thing Draco loved about magic was the ability to hide what you're doing from unsuspecting victims ... er, people. He had been able to snap no less than a dozen photographs with the camera he had brought, all without drawing any attention. He had learned all about this one time when he was waiting in the Gryffindor common room for Harry.
Nearly dead from boredom, Draco had been approached by Colin Creevey who went on about cameras and developing solutions until Draco's eyes had glazed over. When he started talking about 'clandestine missions' Draco's ears had perked up.
6.
Hermione made her way to the Charms classroom, letter in hand. "It was about bloody time!" she thought to herself. Honestly, Ron couldn't be more daft if he were under a Confundus Spell! She had been dropping hints for years. Ginny had dropped hints. Hell, even Harry had dropped hints. But Ron never made a move. Until today.
She re-read the letter from Ron. Hermione, we've been dancing around this for so long. I've decided to just say it. I love you. Meet me in the Charms classroom. 9:15. Love, Ron.
She opened the door, stopping dead in her tracks.
7.
As he tried to prevent himself from chuckling out loud and giving himself away, Draco heard the distant sound of footsteps approaching. He put the camera away and settled himself in for the show.
The door flew open, and Hermione stood stock still on the threshold. Weasley turned to look at her hopefully.
"Hey, 'Mione!" he called.
Oh Merlin, it was hard not to laugh at his sheer gullibility. Tears were building in Draco's eyes at the sight.
"Ron?" Hermione asked with trepidation.
Ron made to move towards her, but her piercing glare stopped him dead. "Please. Just. Stay. There."
8.
"But, 'Mione," he said and tried again to move towards her.
"Just. Stay. There," she said again. If looks could kill, the weasel would be a dead man. Dead and buried. Dug up again and reburied. Several times over.
No longer able to stop them, tears were streaming down Draco's face now, and his body was shaking with silent laughter. This had to be the best prank he had ever pulled. Ever. And that's saying a lot. After all, he was a Slytherin. And to think he had Gryffindorks to thank for all of this. Life was good. Yes indeed.
9.
"Ronald," she said in a deadpan voice. "Where are your clothes?"
Draco nearly buckled over in laughter. He slid himself slowly down the wall, as standing was becoming a difficult task.
"My clothes?" Ron asked.
Oh, God, I'm going to wet myself!
"Yes, Ronald. Clothes, robes, trousers, pants, for Merlin's sake! Generally people wear them when they're out and about. Clothes."
"But you said ..." his voice trailed off.
"I said what?"
"You said to meet you here. Naked. In your letter."
"What letter?"
"This one." Hermione took the letter and quickly cast what appeared to be a Revealing Charm.
10.
"Do you recognize this handwriting?"
"Er ... no," Ron said. "But the letter was in your handwriting."
"Yes, well, it was a very good bit of magic."
Draco gave himself a mental pat on the back.
"Obviously."
"No, Ronald. I mean someone has to be really good to do this. And creative."
Draco didn't like her tone.
"Ronald?"
"Yes?"
"Put on your clothes, please," she said in an exasperated tone.
"Oh, yeah, right. Sorry."
Draco let out an audible snort. Uh-oh.
"What was that?"
"Over there."
As they approached him, Draco saw his fingers sticking out and thought, I'm dead.
Author: sesheta_66
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Humour
Word Count: 100 (x 10 drabbles)
Challenges: dracoharry100's prompt of "dead" and 100quills' prompt 043 - "footsteps."
Summary: Ron learns the hard way to NEVER mess with a Malfoy.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
1.
"You're dead, Weasley!" screamed Draco, a mess of who knew what all over him. His new robes, his tie, his ... his ... his hair! "Eep!" he squealed before running to the dungeons to clean up.
He may be shagging Potter, and he may have promised to be nice to his friends -- an involuntary shudder ... er ... shuddered over him at that thought -- but Draco would NOT tolerate an attack on his hair. I mean, the nerve! What did that stupid weasel think he was doing? Did he not know whom he was dealing with?
Sweet revenge.
2.
Draco loved magic. He was able to use samples of Ron's and Hermione's handwriting (thank you very much, Harry) with a handy-dandy little spell (thank you very much, Blaise), and write letters that even Hermione couldn't identify as forgeries. Of course, a quick Revealing Charm would have done the trick, but why would either of them suspect anything? Ron was too daft, and Draco was pretty sure he hadn't let Hermione in on their "war of whatever" they were having. Surely she would have seen him dead. So here he was. Oh, revenge was so very sweet. Ron would learn.
3.
Dead silence. That's what awaited Ron as he entered the empty classroom, letter from Hermione clutched in his hand.
"Excellent," he thought. He had time to settle in, get ready. He had been waiting a long time for Hermione to make a play. After all, she was a very clever witch, and truth be told she scared him. He was rather fond of his bits, and wanted to keep them attached to his body, so he had never made a move. Until now.
He took another look at the letter. Meet me in the Charms classroom. Naked. 9:00. Love, Hermione.
4.
Draco had second thoughts for a fleeting moment. Just now he realized that he'd be seeing Weasley ... naked ... very soon in fact. He might drop dead from the shock of it. No. He wasn't a Malfoy for nothing. He had stamina. He could endure this.
Making sure his shoes were not visible under Harry's borrowed Invisibility Cloak, he began to move himself into position to get a good shot. Oh, yes. This would be perfect. First, he would get the incriminating pictures, then he would settle in to see the fireworks. Hermione should be along any time now.
5.
Another little thing Draco loved about magic was the ability to hide what you're doing from unsuspecting victims ... er, people. He had been able to snap no less than a dozen photographs with the camera he had brought, all without drawing any attention. He had learned all about this one time when he was waiting in the Gryffindor common room for Harry.
Nearly dead from boredom, Draco had been approached by Colin Creevey who went on about cameras and developing solutions until Draco's eyes had glazed over. When he started talking about 'clandestine missions' Draco's ears had perked up.
6.
Hermione made her way to the Charms classroom, letter in hand. "It was about bloody time!" she thought to herself. Honestly, Ron couldn't be more daft if he were under a Confundus Spell! She had been dropping hints for years. Ginny had dropped hints. Hell, even Harry had dropped hints. But Ron never made a move. Until today.
She re-read the letter from Ron. Hermione, we've been dancing around this for so long. I've decided to just say it. I love you. Meet me in the Charms classroom. 9:15. Love, Ron.
She opened the door, stopping dead in her tracks.
7.
As he tried to prevent himself from chuckling out loud and giving himself away, Draco heard the distant sound of footsteps approaching. He put the camera away and settled himself in for the show.
The door flew open, and Hermione stood stock still on the threshold. Weasley turned to look at her hopefully.
"Hey, 'Mione!" he called.
Oh Merlin, it was hard not to laugh at his sheer gullibility. Tears were building in Draco's eyes at the sight.
"Ron?" Hermione asked with trepidation.
Ron made to move towards her, but her piercing glare stopped him dead. "Please. Just. Stay. There."
8.
"But, 'Mione," he said and tried again to move towards her.
"Just. Stay. There," she said again. If looks could kill, the weasel would be a dead man. Dead and buried. Dug up again and reburied. Several times over.
No longer able to stop them, tears were streaming down Draco's face now, and his body was shaking with silent laughter. This had to be the best prank he had ever pulled. Ever. And that's saying a lot. After all, he was a Slytherin. And to think he had Gryffindorks to thank for all of this. Life was good. Yes indeed.
9.
"Ronald," she said in a deadpan voice. "Where are your clothes?"
Draco nearly buckled over in laughter. He slid himself slowly down the wall, as standing was becoming a difficult task.
"My clothes?" Ron asked.
Oh, God, I'm going to wet myself!
"Yes, Ronald. Clothes, robes, trousers, pants, for Merlin's sake! Generally people wear them when they're out and about. Clothes."
"But you said ..." his voice trailed off.
"I said what?"
"You said to meet you here. Naked. In your letter."
"What letter?"
"This one." Hermione took the letter and quickly cast what appeared to be a Revealing Charm.
10.
"Do you recognize this handwriting?"
"Er ... no," Ron said. "But the letter was in your handwriting."
"Yes, well, it was a very good bit of magic."
Draco gave himself a mental pat on the back.
"Obviously."
"No, Ronald. I mean someone has to be really good to do this. And creative."
Draco didn't like her tone.
"Ronald?"
"Yes?"
"Put on your clothes, please," she said in an exasperated tone.
"Oh, yeah, right. Sorry."
Draco let out an audible snort. Uh-oh.
"What was that?"
"Over there."
As they approached him, Draco saw his fingers sticking out and thought, I'm dead.