Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other characters - except for Little Dude. Little Dude is MINE! Mwahaha!
Note: I will start out this note by saying that I can laugh at myself very easily - I do it all the time. However, I know that some people can't do that and take many things more seriously than they are meant to be taken. If you are a shipper of Draco/Harry (which constitutes a major percent of the HP fan fiction community) and can just laugh about someone poking good-natured fun at your ship, then I recommend you read it and hope it makes your day better; however, if you are someone who cannot take someone making a bit of a parody out of one of the most popular ships in fan fiction, then you may want to reconsider reading this. The choice is yours, but I'm just warning you.
I'm Draco Malfoy's Lover?!
"Harry! Harry! HARRY!"
"What, what, what?" Harry Potter asked, peering into his best friend's office over the cubicle wall separating them.
"Guess what I just found out!" Ron exclaimed excitedly.
"How to work Google?" Harry guessed teasingly, glancing at the lit computer screen.
"No, I found out how to work the Spider a long time ago!"
"The Web, Ron. Honestly, nine years of marriage with Hermione hasn't taught you that?"
"Aw, 'Mione only knows the boring stuff, not stuff like this." The redhead gestured flamboyantly at the screen.
"And 'this' would be what, exactly?"
"Fan-fiction!" This didn't have quite the effect Ron expected as Harry raised an eyebrow in a quizzical fashion. He elaborated, "Harry Potter fan-fiction. They're going off of what that woman . . . Jo, wrote about us."
Harry's eyes widened. "Seriously?"
Without warning, the young Auror vaulted over the cubicle wall before conjuring a desk chair out of midair and sitting down next to Ron at the desk.
"Potter, what in Merlin's name are you doing?" issued a dry voice from behind the two. Harry and Ron turned to see Thomas Savage, Head of the Auror office, staring fixedly down at them. "Isn't there an overdue paper that I need from you about -" he consulted the ever-present clipboard in his hands that reminded Harry unpleasantly of Umbridge - "the possible hideouts of Golgomath's followers?"
"Er . . . yes, we were . . . hoping to find information online. We thought Muggles may have written about it in a tabloid or something, you know how they are!" Harry said, his brain working a mile a minute as he smiled at his boss, hoping that it didn't look too painful.
"Honorable though your intentions are," Savage said in a voice that plainly said that he thought they didn't have any honorable intentions whatsoever. "I must disagree. For, one: Weasley, you are working on something totally separate, with Mr. Boot, I believe; and, two: this is a Muggle product and, as I am sure you both know, it is in the rulebook that Muggle products must be registered and I do not have any record of such a thing."
The two young Aurors fidgeted nervously under their superior's gaze as a young woman with curly red hair walked up to them, carrying several folders under one arm. "Oh, yeah, along with the one that you can't sic a werewolf on the boss, Tonks?"
"Tonks?" Harry and Ron asked simultaneously.
The Metamorphmagus sighed, her close-cropped blond and gray hair already turning back to its patent bubblegum pink hue. "Oh, come on, Susan, I really had them going there!"
"Sadly, yes, so I thought I'd rescue them from your clutches," the flirty Hufflepuff said, tossing her hair and sauntering back into her office, leaving Bob Saunders - affectionately known as "Little Dude," because of his short stature - to gaze lovingly after her.
"Anyway. . . ." Tonks continued. "What are you two doing that you were so worried about our favorite Auror finding out?" She bent down to see the screen. "Oh, did this Jo woman write all this, too?" she asked inquisitively.
"No," Ron explained. "It's fans, building off of what Jo wrote about."
"More like fanatics," Harry said. "Remember when I told you about when I met those two girls in the bookshop? If I had told them who I was, I'd probably be in some far-off place right now, being forced to reveal the contents of the seventh book."
"Freaky," Ron said. Then, "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's read these thingies and see what these . . . fanatics have to say about us!"
"Well said!" Harry patted his best friend's back, grinning. Even years of Auror training had not been able to knock the mischievous streak from the two comrades.
"Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have oh, so many things to do," Tonks said cheerfully. "Papers to write, memos to send. . . ."
"Werewolves to set on unsuspecting bosses?" Harry guessed, a twinkle much like his deceased mentor's in his emerald-green eyes.
"Exactly," the now blue-haired witch said, grinning cheekily. All three present well remembered when - around a month ago now - a half-dressed and incensed Remus Lupin had stormed into the Auror office one morning and had a fight with Savage that seemed to shake the office after his wife had come home nearly in tears one night after being angrily confronted by the Head of Department about her 'uniform in the office' and her supposed reputation as the 'office slut.'
"Hey, maybe someone wrote about that little, er . . . incident," Ron said, grinning and bringing the raven-haired Auror back from his musings.
"Yeah, what would it be called? 'The Top Ten Things Not to Do in An Auror Office' or 'A Surefire Way to Get a Restraining Order'?" Harry joked.
"Maybe," Ron continued eagerly. "Now . . . where's the search engine thingy?"
"Right there, Ron," said Harry patiently, moving the mouse to the top of the screen, clicking on 'Search,' and typing in 'The Top Ten Things Not to Do in An Auror Office,' into the title space.
"That's so awesome," said Ron, watching as the letters appeared on the monitor with nothing short of awe. Harry simply shook his head. Though he had informed his friend - in fact the whole Weasley family - of Muggle things, Ron had always been enraptured by computers (first christened 'pomcuters') and loved to type randomly on them any chance he got, something that infuriated Hermione to no end.
"Well, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," Harry would always remind her, referring to Mr. Weasley's obsession with Muggle technology and his expansive collection of plugs and batteries.
"Yes, but did it have to be Ron?" Hermione would then moan.
"Damn, it isn't there . . . but look what is!" Ron tapped the screen impressively, bringing Harry back from yet another self-induced reverie.
Harry's eyes flicked to the screen and read the available stories, his lips forming the words. "'Our Top Ten Pranks: A Marauders Handbook, by Sirius Black,' 'Hermione's Top Ten Study Tips,' and. . . ."
"Oh, ho!" Harry exclaimed, involuntarily imitating Horace Slughorn. "Oh, ho!" He exchanged a grin with his best friend.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I think we have a winner," Ron said in a winning voice that had saved him from certain extinction more than once. Harry well remembered when he'd used it to have to tell Mr. and Mrs. Weasley that he, Harry, and Hermione would not be returning to Hogwarts before their seventh year, though it was still debated whether that went under a 'life-threatening situation.'
Harry's mind flicked back to the present now, like a Muggle remote control as Ron double-clicked on 'The Top Ten Things to Do With Your Lover.' Who could it be - him and Ginny, Ron and Hermione, Remus and Tonks? The raven-haired Auror was dying to find out.
"You know, Lucius will murder us if he finds out about this," Harry murmured, though he didn't really mean it. He didn't want Draco to leave him . . . ever. His heart was so filled with love for the beautiful blond Slytherin that he had once considered an enemy.
"Shh, love," Draco whispered sexily, pressing his lips to his lover's. "Screw Lucius," he murmured, his tongue busy exploring Harry's mouth. "Screw Narcissa, screw the entire wizarding world. It's you I want, baby, not them."
"And I, you, Draco. And I, you," Harry whispered, sliding his strong, muscular arms around Draco's nude form. And, for years after, that summer's night was remembered as special by the two lovers - it was the night they found solace in each other.
"What the hell?" Ron croaked, finishing the last few paragraphs. "What type of twisted psycho. . . . Harry?" The redhead turned to his best friend, who was sitting limply in his chair, gazing at the computer screen, his face a pale green color and looking as if he were about to hurl at any moment.
"Harry, snap out of it, you're freaking me out here! Harry!" Ron shouted, shaking the man by the shoulders. Harry now seemed to realize where he was and gave a sigh of relief.
"Oh, thank Merlin. I'm not in bed with . . . oh, God, Ron!" Harry slumped forward into his best friend's arms, shaking with fear and relief.
"It was only a story, Harry, don't worry. It was just a story that some twisted fanatic wrote. Don't worry, it's not real," Ron said consolingly, awkwardly patting his best friend's back.
"We do have closets, you know," said the dreaded dull voice from the entrance of the cubicle. Slowly, ever so slowly, the two Aurors separated and turned, once again, to face a smirking Thomas Savage, and Harry was quite sure that this was no façade.
"And you two are married are you not? Pity, pity," Savage continued, that same vindictive smirk that reminded Harry so much of Snape, still firmly on his face.
"Sorry, you just caught us at a . . . a . . . bad time," Ron said, his face flushing spectacularly.
"A bad time?" Savage echoed, raising an eyebrow skeptically.
The redhead nodded confirmation.
"Yes, I can see why. Yes, very much indeed," said the middle-aged Auror. "For, not only have you been caught in an, ah . . . compromising position. But, are you aware, Mr. Potter, that you have a very overdue paper about the possible hideouts of Golgomath's followers? And you, Mr. Weasley, you are supposed to be working on a project with Mr. Boot, despite Mr. Potter being your, ah . . . sexual preference."
"Well. . . ." started Harry, his face as red as Ron's by this time.
However, Savage ignored him; instead continuing to lecture the two young Aurors. "Instead, the two of you chose to ignore your imperative assignments and chose to work on your own project. And, honorable though it may be, I must insist that you. . . ." The older man stopped short as he scanned the still-lit computer screen.
The two Aurors hastened to explain, but Savage raised a hand to forestall any further comments. "Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy," he murmured, his eyebrows knitting together as he read the last few lines.
Then, "Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy." This time he said it louder. And, to the two friend's utter amazement, the prim and proper Auror threw back his head and laughed. "HARRY POTTER AND DRACO MALFOY! LOVERS!" he guffawed. "Merlin, I haven't heard something that funny since I was in Hogwarts! The Auror and the prisoner - lovers! Hah!" By this time, many of the Aurors in the surrounding cubicles had heard Savage and were beginning to laugh as well, even Little Dude, in his insane cackle.
Savage, still laughing, left the cubicle now and journeyed down the aisle, still shouting that the Boy-Who-Lived and the pathetic Jr. Death Eater were lovers, laughter following in his wake. Harry sunk down in his seat, too mortified to speak, to explain, Little Dude's insane laughter still resounding in his ears.
Note: I got the idea for Little Dude while I was lying awake in bed one night and the thought popped into my brain and refused to go away until I placed it in a story. And there's another interesting (or disturbing) venture into my brain. Thank you for listening!
Note: If you have read this, please do not think that I'm a homophobe. I am not, I despise prejudice in any way, shape, or form. This was just a fun parody.