A/N: So, I had to stay up late because I was on Farmville and accidently planted strawberries which take four hours to grow instead of soybeans which take a full day to grow, and I didn't want all my crops to die. Thus, I was extremely bored and came up with this. A kind of parody/song-fic, though nowhere near as crazy as my other stories.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. The characters belong to J.K. Rowling and the lyrics (which will be present in the dialogue –though I have changed a few things to suit my own purposes-) belong to Stephen Sondheim.

Beta: My niece FirstLaugh-LastTears

Warnings: slash, ooc, mpreg mentioned, lawful gay marriage, me replacing God, etc.

Line/page break = time jump.

Prince Draco of Malfoyria and his best friend (*cough* occasional lover *cough*), Prince Blaise of Zabini gazed off longingly into the distance. They had come across each other in the middle of the wood that served as a border between their two kingdoms, quite by accident, one coming home from an incredible find, and the other just giving up the chase.

"What's wrong, dear friend?" Blaise asked Draco, quietly.

"I could ask the same of you."

Blaise sighed. "I have met the love of my life. But, alas, I don't know how I can have him. His name is Charlie. He's been locked away by a rather horrid witch. There is no door or stairway to reach him. The only way to get close to him is by climbing his long, fire-red hair."

"Wow, hair strong enough to hold your considerable weight? I wonder what shampoo he uses."

Blaise glared at his friend angrily. "Tell me your problem then since you can't seem to take mine seriously."

Draco frowned a bit, but nodded in agreement. "I met someone last night."

"At your father's ball?" Draco nodded again. "Well, who is the lucky creature?"

A rather goofy grin came over Draco's face. "His name is Harry. Oh Blaise, he is so beautiful! Eyes like emeralds, and hair as black as a witch's soul. He is pale and far too skinny, but he is mine! I knew it from the moment I saw him! He was meant to be with me!"

Blaise smiled, though it was somewhat bitter. He was happy for his friend, but could not help but envy him. "Then what is the trouble? Your father will be thrilled!" Lucius (Draco's father, the king) had set up the ball in hopes that his son would find himself a bride and produce heirs. He might possibly die of pure happiness (if not shock that his prat of a son had conned someone into marrying him) when he learned that he had been successful.

Draco shook his head. "Father is not the problem. The boy, he left. Ran out just before midnight, straight into the wood. Wouldn't tell me anything about himself, not where he lived, who his parents are, nothing! And then he ran from me without so much as a goodbye. I followed him, but, alas, he was too quick for me. I'm worried that I may not see him again."

Blaise shook his head in confusion. "Who ever heard of such a thing? How ridiculous, a boy running from a prince. None would run from us."

"Yet, one has. Did I abuse him or show him disdain? Why does he run from me?" Draco asked Blaise morosely. "If I should lose him, how shall I regain, the heart he has won from me? Agony, beyond power of speech. When the one thing you want, is the only thing out of your reach."

Blaise nodded in sympathy. "High in his tower he sits by the hour, maintaining his hair. Blithe and becoming, and frequently humming a light-hearted air." He hummed a bit under his breath demonstratively. "Agony, far more painful than yours! When you know he would go with you, if there only were doors."

"Agony." Draco sighed out.

"Oh the torture they teach!" Blaise moaned. "What's as intriguing, or half so fatiguing, as what's out of reach?"

"Indeed. Why is it always the harder road that offers the sweetest rewards? Ah, I am afraid that I must leave you now. It is time for second evening of the festivities to begin. I hope to see my beloved there again. And you, you have a man to rescue. I wish you luck in your endeavors."

"Same to you, dear friend."

Three hours later…

Our young princes found each other, once again, in the wood.

"I told him I loved him and again he ran from me! I just don't understand it. Am I not sensitive," Draco began, counting things off on his fingers, "Clever, well mannered, considerate, passionate, charming, as kind as I'm handsome, and heir to a throne?"

"Well you're certainly not humble." Blaise muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Draco snapped.

"Oh, erm, I mean, you are everything a man could wish for!"

"Then why no-?"

"Do I know?"

"The boy must be mad!" Draco groaned in realization.

"You know nothing of madness!" Blaise scoffed. "Til you're climbing his hair, while his pet dragon is trying to set yours on fire, and you see him up there as you're nearing him, all the while hearing him humming!"

"Agony!" Draco cried.

"Misery!" Blaise agreed.

"Woe! Though, it's different for each." Draco said, thoughtfully. "Always ten feet behind-"

"Always ten feet below-" Blaise interrupted.

"And he's just out of reach." They concluded together.

"Agony!" Draco repeated.

"How many times are you going to say that?" Blaise asked, irritated.

"Fine, I'll stop! It just hurts so badly! It can cut like a knife! I must have him, as my bride!"

"And I must have Charlie as mine."

"Tomorrow night then. You will confront the witch that holds your beloved captive. As for Harry, I must find a way to keep him from running from me a third time. But how?"

"Smear the stairs with pitch!" Blaise burst out excitedly. "It's perfect! His shoes will stick to the floor and he won't be able to get away!"

"Well that's bloody brilliant! I knew there was a reason I liked you! I must go prepare!"

The next day…

Prince Blaise stumbled through the woods, occasionally crying out in pain. Blood was pouring out of his eyes. He tripped on a root and hit the ground hard. He lay there, crying, unable to move. Just then he felt gentle hands, rough with calluses, smooth over his brow, and a familiar voice cry out.

"Oh dear God! Blaise! What happened to you?"

"Charlie! My poor Charlie! He wasn't there. It was the witch. She used his hair, tricked me. She wouldn't tell me what she'd done to him. I was distraught and wasn't paying attention. She cast some sort of spell on me and shoved me from the tower. I grabbed her, she fell with me. She hit the ground and I fell on top of her. I lost consciousness after that. When I woke up, she was dead beneath me, I couldn't see, and there was still no Charlie! Where could he be?"

"Don't worry, dear prince. He is well. He was the witch's most prized possession. She wouldn't have hurt him."

It wasn't Draco who had spoken. The voice was much softer, slightly deeper, and far less arrogant. "Who-who are you?"

"This is Harry. The pitch worked, Blaise. Well, sort of. He still ran away, but his shoe was left on the stair. I used it to find him. We're to be married within the week." Draco's voice was subdued, mindful of his friend's distress.

"I'm so happy for you Draco. But, I must go. I must find my Charlie, my dear little dragon tamer."

"And find him you will. We will postpone the wedding and help you."

"We will?" Blaise heard Draco whisper.

He felt himself being pulled to his feet.

Harry continued, apparently deciding to ignore Draco. "The witch would not have sent him very far. We will search all the surrounding villages until we find him. Come, you must remain strong throughout this search. It could take awhile, and when we do find him, he will need you."

Three months later…

"Prince Draco of Malfoyria, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, to love and to cherish, to protect and rescue, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, til death to you part?"

"I do."

"And do you Lord Harry of Godric, take the prince to be your beloved husband? To have and to hold, in times of strength and in times of weakness, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"Prince Blaise of Zabini, do you take this man to be your husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, til death do you part?"

"I do."

"And do you Charles of The Weasling Wood, promise to do all the stuff I just said to him?"

"I do."

"Then by the power vested in me by the all-mighty Tala, I now pronounce these two couples married. Stuck with each other til they're six feet under. Amen. You may now kiss your respective grooms."

Draco gave Harry a short but rather intense, close-mouthed kiss. Blaise (whose vision had been restored when Charlie wept on his eyes) swept the very pregnant (with twins!) Charlie into his arms and frenched him.

Five years later the princes find themselves in the wood for the last time…

Draco was sitting on a log in the middle of a clearing when Blaise found him. His elbows were resting on his knees and he held his head in his hands.

"What's wrong?"

Draco looked up, startled. "Oh Blaise, it's you." He gave a sad laugh. "Well of course it's you, who else would be wandering around out here?"

Blaise chose to ignore this. "Are you alright? Did something happen?"

"Of course something happened Blaise! Something is always happening! Heaven forbid that a prince be happy!"

"Hey, stop snapping at me! My life isn't exactly a bed of roses right now either pal!"

"Well at least you've still got Charlie." Draco snapped bitterly. "Harry left me months ago. Something about how I was always running around with other men. I couldn't help it! I was raised to be charming, not sincere. Then I find out that the prat got mixed up with a witch somehow and ended up spelled to sleep for a hundred years! 'You must save him!' My people cried. They love him; they respect him more than they ever did me! Now I'm expected to save someone who couldn't even stand by me because I had one moment of weakness! Alright, thirteen moments of weakness, but the number doesn't matter. The point is he took an oath to stand by my side! He failed to hold up his end, why should I hold up mine?"

Blaise was silent for a bit. "I don't have Charlie anymore Dray. He left me too. He just, he's not right in the head you know? Which is only to be expected, I mean, he was kept locked in a tower without any kind of normal, sane human contact for seventeen years. He would just run off into the forest whenever someone tried to approach him, screaming bloody murder all the way. Another witch found him as well. He's bespelled to sleep as if dead, until a kiss from his true love awakens him, forever."

Draco sighed and patted his friend on the back comfortingly, "I'm truly sorry Blaise. I didn't mean to jump down your throat. It's just the whole situation has me so frustrated. High in his tower, like yours was, but higher, my beauty's asleep. All 'round the tower, a thicket of briar a hundred feet deep. Agony! No frustration more keen, when the one thing you want, is a thing that you've not even seen… In months I mean."

"I've found a casket entirely of glass. No it's unbreakable." He said, answering Draco's silent question. "Inside – don't ask it – my husband, alas, just as unwakeable. What unmistakable agony!"

"Is the way always barred?" Draco asked, anguish coloring his tone.

"He used to be so tan, but now his skin is white as snow."

"Did you find any clue to waking him?"

"No, there's a dwarf standing guard."

"Agony! Such that princes must weep! We are always in thrall most to anything, well almost, or something asleep. If it were not for the thicket-!"

"A thicket's no trick. Is it thick?"

"It's the thickest."

"The quickest is pick it apart with a stick."

"Yes, but, even one prick," Draco shuddered. "It's my thing about blood."

"Well, it's sick." Blaise replied bluntly.

"It's no sicker than your thing with dwarves!"


"Dwarves." Draco shook his head exasperatedly.

"Dwarves are very upsetting! Not forgetting the tasks unachievable-"

"Mountains unscaleable," Draco chipped in.

Blaise nodded, "If it's conceivable but unavailable. Agony!"


"Are we really starting this again?"

Draco shot him what he lovingly referred to as "The Glare That Would Scare Satan."

"Alright, alright. Woe! Not to know what you miss."

"While they lie there for years and you cry on their biers, what unbearable bliss!"

"It cuts like a knife!"

"Ah, well," Draco sighed, "I suppose we should go retrieve our wayward husbands. Be strong Blaise."

"You as well."

"Unless…you would rather have them proclaimed legally dead and marry me instead?"

Blaise narrowed his eyes slightly and gave a small sniff. "Sure, beats having to face a dwarf! Those things really do freak me out…"

The End

A/N: Muahahaha, bet that's a twist you didn't see coming. Honestly, I didn't see it coming either. I know, I know, it got really stupid there toward the end. That was just one weird-ass train running around in my brain…

Review or I'll throw you in the stew!

Dear god I can't seem to stop… Hope there's no such thing as a rhyme cop. *facepalms*