[Ribbons and Lace]

A little ficlet inspired by the hxt_lightning group's Fuh-Q-Fest Challenge #16:

16 - Voldemort/Tom Riddle. Harry Potter. What seems to be a duel. Until here nothing too unusual, right?... Then why is Harry wearing a dress (even if looks good in it)? (Alexandrei Mc Fharlaey)

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except perhaps my own twisted jokes. Even then, I don't own the characters involved in them. Likewise, the perceptions of the characters within the fic may or may not accurately reflect my own. I like the Malfoys, after all.

Warnings: Mentions of slash, incest, pedophilia, and multiple other general mentions of Lucius Malfoy being a sick pervert. As well as my own peculiar brand of humor. Oh yeah, and Harry in a dress, which I suppose would count as cross-dressing.

Note: I was inspired by Snippy and Snarky of 's 'Trading Spaces' when it comes to Malfoy's perversions. I will never look at that cane the same way again. o_o;;;

6/26/2010: The story is complete, folks, and no sequel or additional part will be forthcoming. Just edited to mark as complete, and fix formatting and a few other things, since my dividers were eaten.

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"Please, Harry," Hermonie whined. "Really, Ginny and I picked it out just for you! I promise, you'll look wonderful!"

"The - the point isn't to look wonderful!" Harry managed to sputter. "I don't care how I look, I'm not going to, and that's final!"

"But Harry, you cant back down!" Ron exclaimed. "Not after you lost the bet to that bloody git, Malfoy! Come on, it wont be that bad, I'm sure!"

"Oh?" Harry muttered, "Just like your dress robes 'aren't that bad'?" Ron just grimaced.

"I see your point . . . ."

"Ron! You're supposed to be helping us!" The youngest Weasly stomped her foot on the floor, pouting. Ginny then turned her best kicked-puppy eyes onto poor Harry. "Pleeeeese, Harry? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesssee?"

"Fine! Alright! I'll do it! I'm sick of arguing with you all!" he finally gave in. "Besides, I have a headache now. You've been bugging me all day about this!"

"Don't worry, mate!" Ron grinned. "It's only for one day, after all!"

Hermonie and Ginny shared a conspiratorial grin. "Of course," Hermione said sweetly, "you have to wear these as well." After which, Ginny smirked and held out the item.

The entirety of Hogwarts was treated to Harry's reaction, in a scream that some students say rang in the hallways for days.

"NO WAY IN BLOODY HELL!"

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The next day everything seemed more or less normal. Aside from the fact that Harry's response could still be heard in some classrooms, which were mostly empty anyways, nothing was too out of place. That is, if one didn't look in the Forbidden Forest.

Because in a rather nice clearing, one that was probably used regularly by more adventurous students for activates best done in privacy, one Dark Lord Voldemort waited for his challenger. Who would be one Boy Who Lived and Lived and Lived and Just Kept On Living No Matter What, he reflected sourly. Hopefully the fifth time was the charm.

Really, issuing a challenge to Harry Potter, to be taken up upon Hogwarts grounds no less, wasn't the best of his ideas. But Lord Voldemort was frustrated with both the boy and the utter and total incompetence of his 'loyal' Death Eaters. When one got right down to it, he disgustedly acknowledged, Severus Snape might actually be the most loyal of those nincompoops. After all, at least he was honest about being a spy. Unlike Lucius Malfoy, who got up to only Merlin knew what in his spare time.

Voldemort wouldn't be surprised if it involved threesomes with his wife and son. Lucius was just sick like that, he supposed. Unless he was going around molesting little Slytherin girls again. It was common knowledge that whenever the elder Malfoy showed up, the female dormitories for third years and under were to be always locked.

Lucius, he reflected, would probably screw anything. The Dark Lord had even heard a rumor that said Lucius was not allowed to take the 'Care of Magical Creatures' class during his Hogwarts years after that first semester, because of his unique brand of 'care.'

A rustling sound interrupted Lord Voldemort from his contemplations on Malfoy's various perversions. Which was just as well, as he was getting closer to the really disturbing things.

"I know you're here, Voldemort!" shouted a young male voice, which was at fifteen still hovering in the slightly higher tenor ranges. Harry most likely got teased about that quite often, he suspected.

"Of course I am," he stated calmly. After all, it wouldn't do to give the boy ideas that he might actually have a chance. After which, Voldemort heard muttering which sounded suspiciously like words a fifteen year old boy was supposedly not quite old enough to know about.

"Hey, I know you want to reign over the entire wizarding world and all that other bloody nonsense, but do you think we could postpone this for a week? Now's really not a good time," the voice from within the trees asked. Somewhat pathetically, if you asked the Dark Lord, although no one ever did.

"Come boy, whatever is wrong couldn't possibly be that bad," he sneered. Really, he just wanted to get this over with. If it took to long he was going to miss Malfoy's latest attempt to persuade the other Death Eaters that their muggle and mudblood prisoners would be fun to 'play' with in a group. Not all of his minions were exhibitionists, after all.

"That's what you think," came the muffled reply, rather sullenly.

"If you don't come out right now, I'm just going to kill you where you stand, damn those hindering dueling rules!" he snarled rather menacingly.

"All right, all right, don't get your knickers all in a twist. I'm coming!"

"You'd best be thankful that I am not the elder Malfoy, Potter. He would take quite a different meaning to that statement." Ah, a chance to degrade both Potter and Malfoy at the same time! One did not get chances like that often, and Lord Voldemort was going to take full advantage. Wait, that was a rather Malfoyish comment there, blast it!

"I did not need to know that!"

"If you are going to be playing with us," Voldemort informed him dryly, "you'd best know whom uses which rules."

"Well, I certainly will never be 'playing' with Draco's father now!"

"A wise choice. Now, can we commence?"

"Only," the teenager stated - rather threateningly Voldemort mused, he might actually make a good minion if he wasn't so bloody perfect - "If you promise not to laugh."

At this, the Dark Lord raised an eyebrow. Or whatever passed for an eyebrow on his rather bald and shriveled death mask of a face. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," came the sullen reply. "Promise you won't laugh, and we can get this over with."

Voldemort asked the logical question, "Why?"

"Just . . . . Promise, alright?" Harry muttered, in that tone universal to teenagers that said quite clearly that they weren't moving until they chose to. The Dark Lord wondered if Harry had a zit or something.

"Fine." He was becoming rather annoyed at this whole charade. "I promise that I will not laugh when you enter the clearing."

"Good." The boy seemed satisfied, if the rustling in the leaves was any indication. "Now remember, you promised!" And with that he came into view.

Indeed, the Dark Lord Voldemort did not laugh. Mainly because he was too busy trying to remember how to shut his mouth, and hoping he wasn't drooling like Lucius over a nine year old girl.

"I know, I know, I look stupid, now stop bloody staring already," Harry muttered, playing with the lacy hem of his pale mint baby-doll style dress, which was somewhat above mid-thigh, but not quite indecent. And most definitely tempting, what with the downcast green eyes sparkling slightly above the rims of his glasses, and the dark hair framing his face in an artful fall. Not to mention the length of leg displayed, ending in dainty white socks and black mary-janes.

"I disagree," he stated gallantly, old drilled-in manners taking over at the sight of an aesthetically pleasing being in a dress. No matter that it wasn't a girl. "Actually, you look quite . . . . fetching." Luckily his manners didn't allow him to say how he really thought the boy looked. After all, when one is the Dark Lord Voldemort, one doesn't exactly tell Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived and his antithesis, who had just shown up for a duel no less, that he looks positively ravishable. And now he was sounding like Lucius again.

"Wha?" Harry blinked. Obviously not the response he expected, he took a moment to gather his wits before raising his wand. "En garde," he stated, walking towards the Dark Lord as if it was completely normal for the Boy Who Lived to be wearing a dress while dueling Voldemort.

During which, naturally, he wasn't watching where he was putting his feet. Because apparently not only trysting students liked the clearing, but so did moles. And with his luck, it was only natural that Harry step into one's earthly exit.

"GAAHH! Dammit!"

Voldemort was just about to raise his nonexistent eyebrow again and give the boy an admonishment on his language, but then he froze. It just wasn't possible! He wasn't!

Harry, now sitting on the ground, blushed and covered himself, but the Dark Lord had already seen.

Harry Potter was wearing white lace panties!

"Err . . . ." the boy muttered to the thunderstruck man. "My female friends stole all my knickers while I was asleep and made me wear them."

Voldemort just stood there, staring. Bloody hell, maybe Lucius had the right idea when it came to schoolgirls. Or at least, Harry dressed as a schoolgirl. He definitely needed to have a talk with the nymphomaniac Death Eater.

"Can I go?" squeaked an extremely humiliated Harry.

"Hmmm . . . ." The Dark Lord smirked lecherously. "Why don't we play a little . . . . game first, hmm?" he coaxed seductively.

"Eep!"

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And the moral of today's story folks? Kinky is good! =D