This is going to be a series of completely insane mainly parody/humor one-shots that can be read apart from each other and will be randomly updated with status on 'complete'.

SOME THINGS YOU NEVER EXPECTED: THE DRACO-FILES: .KARMA.

Fact number one: Draco Malfoy is a Muggle Rights activist in secret to increase his karma.

It was a wonderful day. The sun was shining; the sky was a nice bright blue; a light breeze cooled off the burning heat of the earlier mentioned sun. Children were running around, playing games and laughing loudly, their parents watching them have fun from the sidelines with a slight smile on their faces. Babies were babbling in their carriages, moved forward by young, happy and healthy looking mothers. Couples were walking hand in hand, glancing sideways at each other once in a while, blushing when they were caught staring by their partners.

Oh yes, it was truly a wonderful day in muggle London.

Too bad that was yesterday.

Today, Harry mused while walking around, was designed only and for the sole purpose of making him feel as miserable as humanly possible. The sky was a dark, nasty grey; the sun didn't seem to want to give him anything even remotely like heat today. The wind was closer to an upcoming storm than the slight, cool breeze he had known for the rest of summer, tousling his already normally messy hair. Harry sighed. Today was going to be hell.

Honestly, the one day he could escape from the Dursley-house, Mother Earth had suddenly decided she didn't like him anymore. Why, he really didn't know. Maybe she was angry with him for setting the house on fire and accidentally damaging the garden too…

He could hardly ask.

But today, today was going to be special. Because today, Harry said to himself, I'm going to my first Muggle Rights Demonstration. With a few hundred other wizards, squibs, muggleborns and their family members, he was going to demand a stop on the killing of muggles. The demonstration was being held in the park, and was of course going to be peaceful and entirely without violence. And as with any hippie-themed love-and-peace action, drugs were allowed.

Even though Harry couldn't wait to get his hands on some pot, it wasn't his only reason for going (or so he told himself. He had a reputation to uphold!) No, he was a hero, and therefor felt that he should lead the people to a sure victory.

Walking into the park after a long trip, Harry sighed again. The sky looked like it was about to burst out in tears, and seeing the amount of people on the grass, it had every reason to. There they were, a small hundred people, some sitting in circles and smoking, and some others were already packing their stuff, facial expressions varying from remotely bored to downright pissed.

In the midst of the largest group stood a caped figure, the low voice bellowing out deciding he was a male. Coming closer, Harry saw the man wasn't as tall as he had at first thought, but stood on a box of sorts, making for some kind of improvised low podium.

"People!" he said, "We, we should know what death is. We know what pain is and fear. We know that we, as wizards, can defend ourselves against the attack of another wizard. Muggles," he paused for a dramatic effect, "cannot." Many people nodded. "Therefor we," the caped male made a wide hand-gesture, waving around the circle, "should protest against muggle killing, and protect who, what and when we can. Only we," the man gestured to the circle of people around him again, the wind playing with his cape, "can stop these killings! We should fight for their lives!" A pale hand, balled in a fist, shot up skywards. The cape fell back slightly, showing a flash of more paleness. The group clapped enthusiastically, cheering and calling out "Yes!" and "Alright!", while some just nodded in agreement.

The man stepped off the box, carefully clothing himself on the shadows again.

The Boy-Who-Lived was stunned.

This man, this man was stealing the limelight from just above his head! He was stealing all the attention Harry should have gotten. The cheers; the applause, it should've been his, not some stranger's! The place on the box; the speech, it was all stolen, all stolen! It was unfair!

Harry sulked for a moment, pissed off by the stranger's appearance. He watched how the stranger walked – or rather sneaked – away, and a rather brilliant idea popped into his head.

He was going to follow this stranger and find out whom he was.

Oh yes, Harry Potter was a smart boy.

He slipped away from the crowds, unnoticed by – well, no one, but it was all about the idea. Like a cat he followed the other male, determined to find out just who he thought he was! ...And who he was in reality, of course.

Further and further the man walked, all throughout the park. Several high hippie-figures had stepped in front of him on his way to worship the male, and Harry – cleverly hidden in the bushes – was simply seething now. Just who was supposed to be the hero here, eh? Eh?

…Harry. Of course. Who else? Not that other stupid, attention-stealing bloke.

In a small, empty clearing, Harry finally pounced. Literally. As he dived towards the stranger's ankles, the man turned around, cape flurrying in the sudden motion. Harry dived head first into the ground, hands grabbing around with no effect. The stranger stood a small meter away.

"Honestly now, Harry Potter." The stranger smirked and leaned down a bit, hiding his face. "Taken to stalking? Again? How low."

Harry glared upwards at the man-with-the-still-unrecognisable-face.

"Haven't you learned anything at all last year?"

Harry scowled. This man was a nutcase, that much was for sure.

"Not very talkative? Can't blame you with sand between your teeth. You've always been an idiot, eh? Foolish Gryffindor." The stranger threw back his head and went into a fit of maniacal laughing, causing the hood of his cape to be thrown back also.

Just at that moment the clouds chose to break away, sun falling from the sky, temporarily blinding our Boy Hero and giving the stranger a, well, strange angelic appearance.

"…What are you?" Harry asked, awed. Or more descriptive: completely creeped out.

"I'm brilliant. Handsome. Genius. Perfect. A pure-blood. Strong. Powerful. Charming…" The stranger tapped his finger on his chin, thinking. "Did I forget anything?"

"Your ego," Harry mumbled.

"Yes, yes," the man replied, still deep in thought. "Nope, that must've been all I can think of at the moment. Enough hints, Potter? Golden Boy position also coming with a golden brain?"

Then it clicked. No one called him Potter but a Slytherin. But at a Muggle Rights- Impossible! Unbelievable…

"Malfoy?"

"I needed a karma increase." The blonde threw his hood completely back, revealing his smirking face.

Harry looked up at him from his – now getting a tad uncomfortable – position on the ground, stunned. "But – This – Muggle Rights – What – How –"

"So incoherent, exactly how I know you. It's a thing about karma, all this Death Eater stuff, it's making it bad. It might make me return in a next life as a lowly squib if I don't watch out. And hippie-peace demonstrations are perfect to get some good karma, really."

"…Wha-?"

"Forget it, Pothead. Someone here has obviously smoked a bit too much today."

Harry sneered. "You really expect me to believe this? Next thing you'll be kicking puppies and small animals just to nurse them back to health."

"Eheh…"

"…No way…"

Fact number 2: Draco Malfoy also helps wounded puppies in his spare time (but is that really only to gather good karma?)