My slash parody. Sort of a statement to all those slashers out there... Not that I'm opposed to slash, I just think HP slash is funny.
A/N: I do not own Harry, Draco, or anything else in this fic. The people and places belong to JK Rowling, and the song (Victim of Love) belongs to the Eagles and everyone else who's involved on their end. This was written before book five came out, Just to let everyone know.
Harry was in the middle of the Weasley's dining room, surrounded by the mob of red-heads. Everyone was laughing and joking, enjoying the meal and each other's company. Suddenly, the floo activated and Draco Malfoy jumped out of the fire, and begin to sing.
"What kind of love have you got?
You should be home but you're not."
Harry backed away from Draco. "Malfoy?" He was too shocked to know what to think.
The blond smirked and leaned towards him, continuing:
"Do a room full of noise and dangerous boys
Still make you thirsty and hot?"
Paniced by Draco's words and tone, Harry turned to his friends for help, but stopped. The twins, Bill, and Charlie were all leering at him with a suggestive glint in their eyes.
"Umm, guys?" he said weakly, as the group took a collective step towards him.
Harry sighed, taking the millionth tubeworm out of the huge barrel to be disemblowled. The tricky thing about disembowling a tubeworm was it didn't exactly have distinct "bowels", persay.
Snape was sitting at his desk, glaring at a paper he was grading.
The door suddenly burst open and Draco strode in, his school robes swishing behind him. He stopped when he got to the table Harry was sitting at.
"I heard about you and that man."
He gestured to Snape, who was now walking towards them, an unhappy expression on his face.
"There's just one thing I don't understand.
You say he's a liar and he put out your fire."
In an attempt to get away from Draco, who was inching towards him with an odd look in his eyes, Harry backed up, bumping into Snape.
"How come you still got his gun in your hand?"
"Oh, s-sorry, sir!"
With a slight smile, Snape said, "I think we can arrange another detention to make up for it. Harry," he finished with a wink.
Harry squeaked, his eyes round as he stared up at the Potions Master.
Walking down the grassy slope to Hagrid's hut, Harry stopped dead in his tracks when Draco popped out of the bushes, not too far ahead of him, and began singing.
"Victim of love! I see a broken heart.
You got your stories to tell."
Rita Skeeter popped out of the bushes just behind Draco, her note-taking quill flying across a piece of parchment.
With an annoyed glare, Draco shoved her back into the bush, the turned back towards Harry. He walked up to him and put an arm around his shoulder, almost friendly.
"Victim of love, it's such an easy part,
And you know how to play it so well."
Harry pushed his arm away and ran into Hagrid's hut, slamming the door behind him.
Harry was standing on the street corner in Diagon Alley, waiting for Ron and Hermione, when Lucius and Draco walk by.
But, instead of continuing with his father, Draco stopped and sang to Harry, with an evil glint in his eye.
"Some people never come clean.
I think you know what I mean."
Lucius, who'd noticed his son's absence, went back for him. He stopped next to Harry, glaring at his son.
With a smirk in his father's direction, Draco leaned close to the other boy's ear, singing softly,
"You're walkin' the wire, pain and desire.
Lookin' for love in between."
Harry looked back at Lucius nervously, having picked up on the trend that befell him every time Draco started singing to him. Indeed, Lucius was a bit closer to him than he felt comfortable with.
The man smirked at Harry for a second, then blew him a small kiss.
"I have...to...buy...books," he said slowly, slipping into the nearest shop as quickly as he could.
Alone in the library at school, Harry flipped through the odd book he'd picked up in the bathroom. It was completely blank. He began to doodle on the page out of boredom, when the ink disappeared into the page. "What?" He wrote, "Hello. My name is Harry Potter," and waited as the words disappeared.
Draco popped up from being one of the tables, singing loudly,
"Tell me your secrets, I'll tell you mine.
This ain't no time to be cool."
Harry'd looked up in surprise. When he looked back down there were words that he hadn't written on the page.
Hi, Harry. I'm Tom. How 'bout lunch? -
Harry slammed the book shut and stood just as Ginny, Hermione, and Ron walked in.
"Harry?" Ginny asked softly, eyeing the book and the frightened look on the boy's face.
Draco sneered at the invading trio, motioning towards them with distain.
"And tell all your girlfriends--"
"Hey!" Ron yelled angrily.
"--Your "been around the world" friends,
That talk is for losers and fools."
Draco climbed up on the library table and sang as loud as he could as the group slowly backed out of the room:
"Victim of love, I see a broken heart.
I could be wrong but I'm not, no, I'm not!
Victim of love, we're not so far apart.
Show me, what kind of love have you got?"
Harry walked across the Quidditch pitch. It felt good to be alone, to have time to think. Just as he was about to grab his broom from where he laid it to change his shoes, he saw Draco walking towards him. Oh, no, he thought, looking around for random teachers, or anyone else who could decide they wanted to sleep with him.
Draco slowed his pace a couple yards away, thought he still moved forward, and started singing:
"Victim of love, I see a broken heart. I could be wrong but I'm not."
Now only a foot away, Draco's smirk was gone and he looked at Harry with a small, genial smile. There was something familiar in his eyes. He sang quietly, reachign out to stretchen the collar of the other boy's robes,
"Victim of love, we're not so far apart."
Harry gulped and swallowed thickly as Draco leaned closer to him. Oh, my-- He brain stopped working as Draco's lips met his is a short, chaste kiss. Ok, Harry, he told himself, breathe. Breathe.
"What kind of love have you got?"
Draco asked quietly.
"I-I-" Harry backed into the wall, trapped.
Silencing him with another kiss, he continued, playing with the side hem of Harry's Quidditch robes,
"Victim of love, you're just a victim of love.
I could be wrong but I'm not, no, I'm not.
Victim of love, now you're a victim of love.
What kind of love have you got?
What kind of love have you got?
What kind of love have you got?"
As Draco's voice faded, his hands still tangled in Harry's robe, he leaned up to kiss him once more, when Harry put his hands on the blond's shoulders and held him at arm's length.
"I-I'm straight. I like Cho," he explained.