Title: Two, Four, Six, Eight

Series: Snapshots

Pairing: Harry/Draco

Rating: R for slash themes and swearing


Plagiarism is a crime. But I'm sure you know that already.

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story do not belong to me, but to the Harry Potter series by JK Rowling. This is all FICTION; none of it is true. No profit was made from this story. I bear no responsibility for anything you may claim from this story, you have been warned.


***Thank you to BleedingEros for giving me this WONDERFUL idea just as assembly was starting one boring school day!***


It was a beautiful crisp November day, and the morning sun shone merrily down on the unsuspecting students of Hogwarts as they assembled in the Quidditch stands, waving banners of red and blue. The Slytherins, naturally, had no banners, and the Hufflepuffs were divided.

Today's match: Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw. Fifth game of the season.

The gates opened, and the players flew out from their side of the pitch. Loud cheers welcomed them, and there were quite a few 'Harry-fans' in the stands. They did their lap around the field, hamming up the crowd for more cheers.

The Slytherins booed loudly as the Gryffindor team flew past, and one tried to throw something at Harry using a charm to increase the strength of the throw, but missed and hit Snape instead, who was sitting in the teacher's stands. The boy got a week's detention, and all the Slytherins were disappointed and rather disgusted at their housemate's lame attempt at assault.

Crabbe and Goyle snickered loudly to themselves as the players began to get into their positions, turning back every once in a while to eye the topmost Slytherin stands, which was usually void of students as it was so high that all the action with the Quaffle couldn't be seen, and teachers (and the rest of the school) could see you extremely clearly from any position on the field or in the surrounding stands. Everyone ignored the two of them, eyes fixed on the players as Madam Hooch walked to the centre of the field. The Bludger and Snitch were released, and the whistle blew as she threw the Quaffle into the air.

No one paid any attention to the small figure appearing on the highest bench in the Quidditch stands, not even with the rather noisy rustling sounds that accompanied every movement made.

Seamus gave a shout. "And the game starts with the Quaffle being snatched out of the air by Gryffindor Chaser Dean Thomas – looking good there, Dean! Er…sorry, Professor…And they're speeding off the goal, Thomas narrowly missing a Bludger. He passes the Quaffle to Chaser Gabriella Johnson – and she ducks – OH! – neat fake there, seems to confuse the Ravenclaw Keeper a bit – wide open goal – she shoots, and she scores! Ten points to Gryffindor! And the Ravenclaws aren't pleased about this at all! Chaser Su Li dives for the Quaffle, and roughly checks Johnson – Li has the Quaffle! She's heading down towards the Gryffindor goals! AND THE GRYFFINDOR SEEKER HAS SIGHTED THE SNITCH! Harry Potter makes a beautiful dive – watch out for the Bludger – effective dodge by Gryffindor Seeker Harry Potter - and he's still after the Snitch! The Ravenclaw Seeker has NOTHING on Potter – that boy's going like the wind!"

A whispered sonorous and more rustles, and soft clearing of throat.

Crabbe and Goyle turned around again, and snickered again. Everyone was too hooked on watching Potter make a five-hundred feet dive after the Golden Snitch. He neared the dancing gold blur, and his hand was just about to close around it.

And then…it happened.


The entire stadium fell completely silent and stared at the small figure on the uppermost Slytherin stands. Harry almost toppled over on his broom and pulled quickly out of his dive, loosing the Snitch in the process. All the players were still, joining the rest of the school and faculty in staring.

Draco Malfoy was decked in Gryffindor colours, scantily clad in a tiny scarlet turtleneck that wrapped tightly around his lithe frame, and over that, a similar-sized tank top that had golden stripes around the edges and a 'G' with a lion embroidered in gold thread. His long legs were bare and scarcely covered in the shortest flared miniskirt available to mankind.

He twirled as he cheered, arm movements clean and precise, with a high kick and shout to end his first cheer.

"WOOOOOOOOO!!!" Frenzied waving of red and gold pompoms with neat little jump, and everyone's mouths opened as their jaws hit the floor simultaneously.

A whispered musicalis, and then bright, cheery music began floating through the air, not giving the audience any time to even comprehend what was happening before –

 "Oh Harry, you're so fine, you're so fine you blow my mind, hey Harry, hey Harry!"

A fancy sort of split-jump, and then, again, "Oh Harry, you're so fine, you're so fine you blow my mind, hey Harry, hey Harry!"

"Oh Harry, you're so fine, you're so fine you blow my mind, hey Harry, hey Harry!" He finished off his little intro sequence and gave another twirl and high kick, skirt flaring, pompoms waving, shirt riding up his stomach.

And then the brains of most females and males present melted into mush as Draco struck a pose and blew a kiss as he waved a pompom. Colin and Dennis Creevey frantically took as many pictures as possible, especially of this pose. This was pure fantasy material, enough to satisfy the entire hormonal population of Hogwarts for the rest of the school year, or - for an obsessive few – a long, long time.

However, it didn't end there. Oh, no, Draco was nowhere near done yet. The music was still playing, the school was still gaping, and the players were still dumbstruck as Draco launched into his proper cheerleading routine – choreographed by yours truly – full of complicated turns, kicks, waves, jumps, and painful looking acrobatic moves, all while he sang the anthem of all cheerleading songs (slightly modified, of course, to suit his purpose):

"Oh Harry, what a pity you don't understand. You take me by the heart when you take me by the hand. Oh Harry, you're so pretty, can't you understand? It's guys like you, Harry! Oh what you do Harry, do Harry, don't break my heart, Harry! Hey Harry!"

Here, he winked, and a collective sigh was heard. It appeared as if the melted mush brains had somehow coalesced together into one brain that controlled the masses.

"Now when you take me by the, who's ever gonna know? Every time you move I let a little more show – " Here, he turned around and raised his skirt slightly, showing just a hint of the 'spanky pants' that all cheerleaders wear under their non-existent skirts.

The crowd squealed, and a few students fainted – half of Hufflepuff (boys and girls included), two girls from Gryffindor, a handful of Ravenclaws, while the entire Slytherin House were drooling all over themselves. Professor Vector, who had been watching, eyes wide, mouth agape, suddenly found herself with a nosebleed, as did three girls from Hufflepuff and two boys from Ravenclaw. Su Li fell off her broom, dropping the Quaffle as well, as did the Gryffindor Keeper.

"There's something we can use, so don't say no, Harry!" At this, and with a secretive flick of his wand under a pompom, Draco sent a flutter of X-tra Lube condoms raining down onto the field.

Professor McGonagall's eyes were wide with shock, mouth gaping, completely disbelieving that any Hogwarts student, much less a Prefect, could possibly do something as completely unbelievable as this. Anyone who looked at her now would have described her expression as a cross between wanting to sigh and scream excitedly like all the other females present, or to stand and scream at Draco to get off the stands, get out of that ridiculous outfit, and that he had three months worth of daily detentions for corrupting the minds of the innocent young students present. But then, no one did, as they were too busy staring at Draco.

A few smart Slytherins had started up Accio spells for the condoms on the field, and the fervent crowd began to stir as Draco continued.

"So come on, and give it to me anyway you can. Anyway you want to do it, I'll treat you like a man. Oh please, baby, please, don't leave me in a jam, Harry!" Draco suddenly performed a decidedly raunchy movement with his hips and people began screaming as if he was a rock star. Or perhaps he was…

Screams drifted towards him from the school – Draco, I love you!! Malfoy, you sexy thing! I want to have your baby!!! Take it off – take it ALL OFF!!!! Woo, yeah baby, give it to DADDY!! The last comment came from one Blaise Zabini, who was suddenly surrounded by curious stares. "WHAT?! It's just an EXPRESSION!" he said defensively, crossing his arms huffily.

And yet it still didn't end there. No, Draco still had his extra long, repeating chorus to do. He was going to go through the whole thing, what with actually learning the choreography and actually doing it now – after all, no one was stopping him. Not even Snape, who was staring, completely shell-shocked – golly, he and McGonagall sure make a pair – thought Draco amusedly. His mouth was open so wide Draco could almost see the little dangly thing at the back – what was it called again? – it didn't matter. All that mattered right now was -

"Oh Harry, what a pity you don't understand. You take me by the heart when you take me by the hand. Oh Harry, you're so pretty, can't you understand? It's guys like you, Harry! Oh what you do Harry, do Harry, don't break my heart, Harry! Hey Harry!"

Draco caught sight of Dumbledore sitting in the middle of the teachers, who all wore horrified expressions, save for his. His eyes met the Headmaster's knowing blue eyes that twinkled as he smiled, knowing why Draco was doing this, who he was doing this for, everything.

"Oh Harry, you're so fine, you're so fine you blow my mind, hey Harry, hey Harry! Oh Harry you're so fine, you're so fine you blow my mind, hey Harry, hey Harry! Oh Harry, you're so fine, you're so fine you blow my mind, hey HARRY!"

His eyes swivelled over to the Gryffindor stands, and landed on Weasley and Granger, who were sitting together on the front row. He could see Ron's face, red and furious, shouting angrily at him. Not like he could hear though, not over the other, appreciative shouts, and especially not over the sound of his own voice with music. But then again, it wasn't as if he needed to hear Weasley to know what he was saying to Granger.

He's trying to sabotage the game! Look, Harry's completely forgotten about the Snitch now that Malfoy's started singing! Who the HELL does he think he's fooling? It's not going to work! Harry's still going to win! God, I just wish he'd SHUT UP, doesn't he know how RIDICULOUS he looks? He HAS to have some spell on Harry, or the school, because none of the players should have stopped just like THAT and…

Draco stifled a smiled as he continued. "Oh Harry, what a pity you don't understand. You take me by the heart when you take me by the hand. Oh Harry, you're so pretty, can't you understand? It's guys like you Harry! Oh what you do Harry, do Harry, don't break my heart, Harry!"

And so it went on, with the chorus repeated five times as the rest of the school cheered and drooled, swooned and fainted, sprouted nosebleeds and had near heart attacks, shouted and screamed, and generally worked themselves up into an orgasmic frenzy.

Draco caught Harry's gaze, then, and, smile widening, continued with his chorus as their eyes stayed locked onto each other. Harry wasn't even blinking. The only signs of movement coming from him were the strands of erratic black hair blowing in the light breeze and the heavy rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, lips parted slightly as he continued staring.

Draco didn't quite know what to make of Harry's expression.

It unnerved him, to say the least. After all – Draco liked to know what Harry was thinking, and prided himself on being able to decipher his moods and feelings just from one look.

With a final "Hey HARRY!", Draco ended his little song and dance routine, striking another pose that made the stadium erupt in cheers and the Creevey brothers take even more photos even more enthusiastically, if it was at all possible. With a wave of his pompoms and another hidden flick of his wand, Draco sent pieces of confetti floating down towards the stadium and he happily blew kisses as he continued to wave to all the screams while secretly taking note of the damage he made.

Right-o, list of casualties…

Fainted: Half of Hufflepuff, a third of Ravenclaw, handful of Gryffindors, Pansy. Excellent.

Nosebleeds: Half of teachers, two dozen Hufflepuffs, at least half of Ravenclaw (inc. ones in dead faint) and a dozen Gryffindors. Not bad.

Drool/swoon/etc.: Three teachers, and everyone else. *Excellent*

Screams/shouts/wants to bed me: Everyone, except Dumbledore. Even *more* excellent.

Players fallen off broom: Two Gryffindors, Four Ravenclaws, and…why is Harry Potter looking at me like that?

With a shake of his head, Draco's smile turned smug as he gave one final wave, blew a final kiss, and disappeared.

No one knew how, but one moment he was there, the next he was gone. Dumbledore just continued smiling, the crowd continued screaming, and Harry Potter was still motionless on his broom, staring intently at the spot where Draco was not half a second ago.


"I caught the Snitch in the end, you know." Harry gripped his Firebolt tightly, freshly changed and showered, about to leave the boys' changing rooms.

"Of course. I knew you would." Draco was leaning against the tiled wall, arms crossed, pompoms dangling from one hand.

"There was no point in your little…display, you know. It didn't work. We still won."

Draco stepped closer, into the light. "But of course."

Harry's grip on his broomstick tightened, and Draco could see his knuckles turn white. "I…I liked your song."

Draco came even closer. "Thank you," he said graciously.

"I, er, liked your routine, too." Harry was looking at him with That Look again. It made Draco feel all shivery and fluffy before he shook his head slightly. Malfoys were not born to be fluffy. Just the horror of it…

"And. Um. And…and…er." Harry's cheeks began to flush, and he stared down at the floor. Draco stepped even closer before dropping his pompoms onto the floor. "I – I liked…I liked…er. Um. Your."

Draco decided to make his life a bit easier. "Do you like my outfit, Potter?" And for Harry's benefit, Draco did a quick twirl, skirt flaring, hiding nothing.

Harry was blushing so hard Draco was surprised he hadn't broken any blood vessels yet. "Yes," he whispered.

Draco leaned closer, enjoying the smell of soap and shampoo that wafted off Harry. "What was that?" he said.

As if gathering his resolve, Harry looked up, and Draco's heart skipped a beat as his grey eyes met green. "Yes."

And yet Draco moved even closer, without actually coming into contact with Harry, but close enough to feel his warmth.

"How much did you like my performance, Potter? Tell me, how much did you enjoy it?"

Harry stared at the floor again, but only succeeded in fixing his eyes on Draco's body, still wrapped in its wanton outfit. His hand went to the collar of his robe, pulling out the fabric away from his skin, as if he was too hot.

Draco was delighted at how much he had affected Harry – he could see the evidence clearly himself. He suddenly reached out and pulled Harry close to him, so that their bodies were flush against each other, and Harry's arousal pressed into Draco's hips. Shocked, Harry dropped his broom, and his eyes shot up to meet Draco's.

Licking his lips, Draco smirked, and lowered his voice until it was no more than a husky whisper. "How much did you enjoy my performance, Potter? How much did you enjoy…me?"

He knew Harry was all too aware that he was poking Draco with his erection, and that Draco was mercilessly teasing him about it. And so, Draco moved so that their lips were a scant millimetre apart and whispered again. "Tell me, Potter. How much did you enjoy me? How much? Tell me."

It was rather a shock to Draco when he suddenly found himself pinned against the cold tiles of the wall. Harry's Look was studying him, scrutinising every detail of him, and then –

It wasn't what Draco expected, to be sure. Shivers, perhaps, tingles, perhaps, but certainly not fireworks exploding in his head, shattering nerves and causing his blood to pulsate fiercely through his veins. As Harry's lips began to move against his, Draco suddenly realised that he was rock hard, and was clawing at Harry for more.


Ron wondered why Harry was taking so long with his shower. After all, he, himself and Hermione had made plans to raid Honeydukes for the Gryffindor party that was sure to be well on its way already.

"What's taking him so long?" Hermione frowned next to him, tugging at her gloves, fiddling with the fringe on her scarf.

"Hey, Hermione, should we go look? What if that git Malfoy decided that, since his plan to sabotage Harry didn't work, that he'd finish up his dirty work after the game?"

Finish up his dirty work? Oh yes, though Hermione, feeling very dirty and perverted in her thoughts. I *bet* Malfoy wanted to finish off his work with Harry.

"I think I'm gonna go and see what's holding him up." Ron started off for the changing rooms, and Hermione was startled out of her reverie.

"Wait!" She grabbed Ron's cloak. "I'll come with you."

"Er. Hermione, I'm going to the boys' changing room."

"No! I'll come with. Because. You know." She gestured vaguely. "If Harry's in trouble, then having an extra person is always a good thing." Yes, and having me to stop you from killing Malfoy is a good thing too…

Ron contemplated shortly before nodding. "OK."

They two of them entered a changing room echoing with groans and moans and lots of general sex noises. Ron frowned. "What's that?" He moved inside, and Hermione followed quickly.

Oh holy FUCK.

Harry had Malfoy up against the wall, with Draco's legs around Harry's waist, and one hand buried in Harry's hair, while the other raked at Harry's back. Malfoy's head was thrown back, eyes closed, mouth open in ecstasy, and Harry was clearly sucking away at his neck, hands on Malfoy's ass to support his weight. The scandalously short cheerleading skirt was bunched up around Draco's waist, and with their violent thrusting, it was obvious what they were doing. Thank God that Harry's robes were still on, covering – things – from view, but his pants were, of course, a different matter all together.

Ron took a step towards the two of them, and Hermione knew it was to pull the two apart, and so she decided to act first and pull Ron out of the changing room. He stumbled out, momentarily shocked.

"What the hell did you do that for? Can't you see what they were doing in there?"

"Of course! That's why I pulled you out in the first place! It's rude to interrupt, Ron."

Ron opened his mouth to retaliate, but Hermione held a hand up and he shut up. "I know you're going to say something to the effect of, 'but it's Malfoy!' so I'm telling you now. If Harry doesn't mind that it's Malfoy, then we as best friends should not either. Now. About the candy. Let's go, Ron, we're late." And she whirled and started off, leaving a gaping Ron behind to catch up with her.

"But – but, Hermione," he kept stuttering.

Hermione only grinned inwardly, remembering the long, long hours she had spent with Draco Malfoy, going over the minute details of his little plan to seduce Harry, teaching him the song, watching his rehearsals, and especially the work on the final disappearance at the end…


The End!