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durham_knits at 11:02pm on 16/07/2005
durham_knits at 11:02pm on 16/07/2005Title: Knickers
WARNING: HBP SPOILERS
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine, only the amazing Rowling.
Summary: Inspired by a quote on the fictionalley HBP boards. "Wasn't the 'Priscilla, Queen of the Desert' theme of making Crabbe and Goyle dress up like chicks the ****ing shiznit? Man, this novel has everything: zombies, cross-dressing, oh man, the only thing missing was maybe ninjas and shark attacks and that would've made it perfect." Sadly, couldn't work in the ninjas.
Blaise shoved his trunk closed. “Train leaves in half an hour,” he pointed out.
Gregory and Vincent exchanged worried glances. “I’m almost done,” Vince said, “but what about Draco? Who’ll get Draco’s things?”
Draco’s unpacked trunk was a constant reminder of the missing light of Slytherin. But Blaise merely shrugged. “I’ll ask Pansy. I think she’s crying up in the girls’ dorms.” Blaise stared at the quills and scrolls spewing from Draco’s satchel, lying abandoned on his bed. “Better throw it all in, at least. I’ll get it to him… after all, you know how Draco is about his trunk.”
“He’s dead, isn’t he,” Vince whispered, as Blaise shut the door.
Gregory plopped on the lid of his trunk and shrugged glumly. “’Spose he is. He did say the Dark Lord would kill him...”
Vince took up a seat on his own trunk. “’Spose he is,” he echoed. “He wasn’t such a good friend this year.”
“No… rather bad friend.” Greg looked down, but the edge of Draco’s bed was still visible. “Left us here, after all, when he’s off doing… whatever.”
“If he’s dead, I’m glad he left us.” Vincent glanced furtively toward the door. “How long until Zabini’s back?”
“Five minutes. If she’s crying, longer. She thinks he’s dead, too.” With Draco dead, Greg wasn’t quite sure what to do – he was Draco’s shadow.
Vince gasped suddenly, his eyes wide. “Greg! Greg, what do we do?”
“I dunno. I always kind of thought… Draco would tell us. But if he’s dead…”
“No, not that! If Pansy comes up here…” Vince jumped up and ran into the bathroom and returned with Draco’s laundry hamper.
Or what usually was Draco’s laundry. Gregory finally realized what Vincent meant, as assorted ladies uniform pieces tumbled across his sheets. “I forgot they were still there,” Greg muttered. Vince poked through the piles of skirts and underwear.
Draco had thought stealing Pansy’s bra was hilarious, but if she knew it had been in their possession all along… “What do we do?”
“Get rid of the evidence.” That’s what Draco always said, anyway, and if Draco was dead then someone was going to have to be the brains. “We should… burn it.” Gregory stepped back and shouted “Incendio!”
Vince dived out of the way. “Merlin, Goyle, what are you doing?!”
“We need brains,” Greg said, wincing. Vince stared at him blankly. “No,” he amended, “we need someone to be the brains.”
“Well, this time let’s find someone who doesn’t make us dress up in girl’s clothes, right?” Vince said.
“Right,” Greg said. Flames flickered up the bedposts. Good thing he was packed. “Er - Remember the extinguishing charm?”
Vince winced. “No.”
The canopy caught fire. “This is bad,” Greg muttered.
“Er… Run?” They shrunk their trunks quickly and made for the door.
As they fled their burning dorm, dodging around Slughorn’s alarmed yells, Gregory thought he saw Vincent nick a pair of knickers from the floor.
Well, who could be blamed for wanting a trophy?
WARNING: HBP SPOILERS
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine, only the amazing Rowling.
Summary: Inspired by a quote on the fictionalley HBP boards. "Wasn't the 'Priscilla, Queen of the Desert' theme of making Crabbe and Goyle dress up like chicks the ****ing shiznit? Man, this novel has everything: zombies, cross-dressing, oh man, the only thing missing was maybe ninjas and shark attacks and that would've made it perfect." Sadly, couldn't work in the ninjas.
Blaise shoved his trunk closed. “Train leaves in half an hour,” he pointed out.
Gregory and Vincent exchanged worried glances. “I’m almost done,” Vince said, “but what about Draco? Who’ll get Draco’s things?”
Draco’s unpacked trunk was a constant reminder of the missing light of Slytherin. But Blaise merely shrugged. “I’ll ask Pansy. I think she’s crying up in the girls’ dorms.” Blaise stared at the quills and scrolls spewing from Draco’s satchel, lying abandoned on his bed. “Better throw it all in, at least. I’ll get it to him… after all, you know how Draco is about his trunk.”
“He’s dead, isn’t he,” Vince whispered, as Blaise shut the door.
Gregory plopped on the lid of his trunk and shrugged glumly. “’Spose he is. He did say the Dark Lord would kill him...”
Vince took up a seat on his own trunk. “’Spose he is,” he echoed. “He wasn’t such a good friend this year.”
“No… rather bad friend.” Greg looked down, but the edge of Draco’s bed was still visible. “Left us here, after all, when he’s off doing… whatever.”
“If he’s dead, I’m glad he left us.” Vincent glanced furtively toward the door. “How long until Zabini’s back?”
“Five minutes. If she’s crying, longer. She thinks he’s dead, too.” With Draco dead, Greg wasn’t quite sure what to do – he was Draco’s shadow.
Vince gasped suddenly, his eyes wide. “Greg! Greg, what do we do?”
“I dunno. I always kind of thought… Draco would tell us. But if he’s dead…”
“No, not that! If Pansy comes up here…” Vince jumped up and ran into the bathroom and returned with Draco’s laundry hamper.
Or what usually was Draco’s laundry. Gregory finally realized what Vincent meant, as assorted ladies uniform pieces tumbled across his sheets. “I forgot they were still there,” Greg muttered. Vince poked through the piles of skirts and underwear.
Draco had thought stealing Pansy’s bra was hilarious, but if she knew it had been in their possession all along… “What do we do?”
“Get rid of the evidence.” That’s what Draco always said, anyway, and if Draco was dead then someone was going to have to be the brains. “We should… burn it.” Gregory stepped back and shouted “Incendio!”
Vince dived out of the way. “Merlin, Goyle, what are you doing?!”
“We need brains,” Greg said, wincing. Vince stared at him blankly. “No,” he amended, “we need someone to be the brains.”
“Well, this time let’s find someone who doesn’t make us dress up in girl’s clothes, right?” Vince said.
“Right,” Greg said. Flames flickered up the bedposts. Good thing he was packed. “Er - Remember the extinguishing charm?”
Vince winced. “No.”
The canopy caught fire. “This is bad,” Greg muttered.
“Er… Run?” They shrunk their trunks quickly and made for the door.
As they fled their burning dorm, dodging around Slughorn’s alarmed yells, Gregory thought he saw Vincent nick a pair of knickers from the floor.
Well, who could be blamed for wanting a trophy?
giddy