𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐔𝐒 2008

Crup-tion of the Not-So-Innocent (1/2)

Author: calanthe_fics
Title: Crup-tion of the Not-So-Innocent (Part 1 of 2)
Pairing(s): HP/DM
Rating: Adult/Explicit (NC17)
Summary: If you thought that befriending Draco Malfoy would be easier than defeating the Dark Lord you’d be wrong. Harry Potter has to grow another pair of legs and a forked tail before he can break down the frosty barrier blocking the way into Malfoy’s heart (and his underpants).
Warning(s): Swearing, voyeurism, hand shandies (‘wanking’ to you), very slight references to animal touching, even fewer slight references to tit groping and ew!het.
Genre(s): Humour, mild (resolved) angst.
Word Count: 17,193

Crup-tion of the not-so-innocent Part 1 of 2

If anyone had predicted to Harry Potter that within ten weeks of offing Voldemort he’d have a forked tail and open permission to fondle Draco Malfoy’s naked buttocks (albeit generally not at the same time) he’d have called them ‘bonkers’. That said, Harry was not known for being the sharpest goblin-forged sword in the bank vault, and a similar prediction that he might eventually kill Snakeface with a simple Disarming Charm would probably have been greeted with the same level of gravity as any one of Trelawney’s many visions about his untimely demise. Which was to say ‘not much’.

Yes, a lot could happen in ten weeks, not least of which was Harry finding himself a week and a half after his victory living amongst house-elves and magical construction operatives in the ruins of Hogwarts. In the dungeons more precisely. It hardly seemed appropriate to him that the House most likely to have fought on Voldie’s side was the only one whose residential space remained undamaged. But at least he had somewhere to sleep with no windows, thus preventing a second Boy Hero sleeps in grey underpants! revelatory feature on the front page of the Daily Prophet. Most young, eligible wizards would have loved the attention, but sadly the underpants Harry had been sleeping in at the time had once belonged to Dudley, which made the potential sexiness of the photo a lot less, well, sexy. But on the bright side, he’d never need to buy any smalls (or in Dudley’s case, bigs) again, not after the four hundred and thirty-three and counting pairs he’d been sent by ardent admirers post-publication.

Overwhelming was the understatement of the century when it came to describing Harry’s life immediately post-battle. There weren’t just the public appearances, newspaper statements, memorial services and private funerals to think about. There were also the issues of where he was going to live and how he might spend some quality time with Ginny. Perhaps unsurprisingly both issues went pear-shaped remarkably quickly.

Harry grabbed his very minimal sleep at The Burrow for the first couple of nights when it was all over. Their reuniting snogs had been sheer bliss for both himself and his long-suffering ‘girlfriend’. However, Harry’s inability to schedule Ginny any time in his immediate diary went down like a dose of galloping Spattergroit and was not helped in the slightest by the aforementioned photo of the bare-chested and angelically-sleeping Harry plastered all over the largest-circulating national paper in wizarding Britain. The resulting tidal wave of hormonal hysteria left Ginny seething and resentful and ready to resort to highly risqué behaviour in a bid to secure his undivided attention. Late one evening as he stumbled out of the fireplace she frog-marched Harry to the broom shed and pressed both his hands firmly against her braless breasts while she moved her own attention to his trousers. ‘Little’ Harry dealt with the shock much quicker than big Harry, and was already making a break for freedom when the rickety door was yanked open by a beige dressing-gowned, rollered and hair-netted hostess from hell, who Petrified them both before bellowing for her husband to come and dish out a good walloping. After the humiliation of both Mr and Mrs Weasley seeing little Harry at half mast and cocooned in their baby daughter’s fingers, there was no option but to move out, and he found himself sadly grateful to be away from Ginny’s accusatory eyes if not her wandering hands.