Title: It's Been A Very Weird Night, Harry Potter
Author: J.K. Rowling (gently remixed by anthimaeria for maximum slashiness)
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Warning: Wands. Broomsticks. Juvenile humor.
Summary: Harry and Draco get out their wands once again for this equally silly sequel to Harry Potter and the Slashed-Up Canon. Ron knows a challenge when he sees one.
Word Count: ~1870
Disclaimer: All sentences in this fic were composed by J.K. Rowling from the first six books in the Harry Potter series, and are her intellectual property. I merely rearranged the text. No malice is intended by this posting, and no profit is sought. I believe in good faith that the following is a parody and subject to the fair use exception under applicable copyright law, but will immediately remove this post at the request of any of the copyright holders. This fic will not be posted on any archives outside of LiveJournal.
Author’s Notes: Couldn’t resist doing another one of these! This will probably be the last unless Book 7 has some really great subtext.


"Sure you can manage that broom, Potter?" said a cold, drawling voice.

"What?" said Harry, startled. He looked over at the alarm clock. It was now two o'clock in the morning. He had awoken from a vivid dream with his hands pressed over his face.

Malfoy was speaking. Harry could see his outline by the moonlight filtering in through the grimy window. The grounds were still and quiet. A loud snore told him Ron had fallen asleep again.

"What d’you mean, I’m not brave in bed?" said Harry, completely nonplussed. He had drawn his own wand before Malfoy’s fingers had even entered the pocket of his robes.

Malfoy hastened to answer the question. "You were rolling on the floor, clutching your scar!" He burst out laughing. "Talking in your sleep. Moaning."

He sighed deeply and looked down at Harry. Harry tried to pull himself together.

"How on earth d'you know that?" said Harry in amazement. He raised his hand automatically and tried to make his hair lie flat.

Malfoy let out a low, sneering laugh. "I would have thought that was obvious, Harry," he said, sounding surprised.

The dimly lit room was swelteringly hot. So was his body. Distracted, Harry looked down. It was getting harder and harder to hold his broom straight.

"Forget it, all right?" said Harry. "I just -- lost control."

For a split second, they looked into each other’s eyes, then, at exactly the same time, they both acted.

Malfoy’s hand flew toward his wand, but Harry was too quick for him. "Oh," he grunted. "Down here --"

Quietly, Harry tried to say something in Parseltongue. The words wouldn't come. His heart drummed madly inside him, but his brain was oddly cool and clear.

Malfoy chuckled softly. His eyes rested on Harry and his lip curled. "Don’t forget to wipe it after you’ve used it--"

"What d’you mean?" said Harry quickly. He moved forward and gave it an experimental push. His wand began to vibrate more powerfully than ever.

Malfoy smiled nastily. "Trust me," he said. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Er -- well, I'm right-handed," said Harry.

"Hold out your arm. That's it."

Harry shivered. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. After a moment he became aware that his T-shirt was sticking to him; he was drenched in sweat.

"This is the weirdest thing we’ve ever done," Harry said fervently. A startling thought had just occurred to him. It was not the sucking-up that intrigued him: he had watched Malfoy do that to Snape for a long time. He looked just as pale and sweaty as he had done then, not to mention as reluctant to open his mouth.

"Ready, are you?"

Harry gave a half-hearted shrug. "It's not just my hand," he whispered, "although that feels like it's about to fall off."

Malfoy seized the package from Harry and felt it. "How's this?"

"Yeah, that's better..."

Harry raised the wand. He could feel it vibrating and let it go; it hung in midair, unsupported, at exactly the right height for him to mount it. The opportunity was too perfect to miss. Smiling to himself, he closed his eyes...

The minutes crept by. Malfoy’s eyes narrowed maliciously. "Move -- come on --"

"It’s taking longer than I thought it would." Everything Harry had learned last year seemed to have leaked out of his head during the summer.

Malfoy looked angry, but forced out a singularly humourless laugh. "I’m tired!" he bellowed finally, after nearly half an hour. "All right -- squirt!"

"Yes," Harry gasped, fighting now to keep a hold on his wand, which was slipping and sliding beneath his fingers.

It happened almost immediately; Harry felt as though a hook just behind his navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. "AAAAAAAAAARGH!"

"I seem to have touched a nerve," said Malfoy, smirking. "What is it, Potter? Where does it hurt?"

"It’s okay," said Harry, still breathing faster than usual, while his heart rate returned to normal. It was better than he'd ever dreamed.

"Can I just hold it, Harry?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "Yeah, I suppose so..." He was feeling very thirsty. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

Then a noise in the next room made them jump. Harry opened his eyes again. His yell had woken Ron, Seamus, Dean and Neville. All of them were peering through the gaps in their own hangings, heavy eyed and tousle haired.

"Whassamatter?" said Harry groggily. The dark dormitory was full of the sound of laughter.

Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. "What are you doing?"

"Shh!" Harry grinned into his pillow, exceptionally glad that Ron couldn’t see what he could. "Go back to sleep."

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying --"

"I didn’t make that noise," said Harry firmly. "Are you sure you weren’t dreaming, Ron?"

"Harry, we saw Uranus up close!" said Ron, still giggling feebly. "Get it, Harry? We saw Uranus -- ha ha ha --"

Harry hastily stuffed his wand back into his jeans and tried to look innocent. "Does it matter right now?"

"God, this place is going to the dogs," said Malfoy loudly. "Can we help you with something?"

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Harry quietly.

Malfoy turned his face to Harry, still smiling. "Say 'please."'

Ron gasped. "Point that thing somewhere else!"

"I can’t," said Malfoy.

Ron told Malfoy to do something that Harry knew he would never have dared say in front of Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried.

Ron hesitated, then put a hand inside his robes. "My wand," said Ron, in a shaky voice. "Look at my wand --"

Malfoy looked at him. So did Harry. Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Ron blushed. He was looking over at Harry as he spoke. "When Draco points his wand at you, you do this." He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it.

"Oh, tremendously funny!" said Malfoy.

Harry swallowed. Was this a trick? He wished Ron would put his wand down.

"Say that again," Ron said, his face as red as his hair. He cast Harry an oddly furtive look as he said it.

The end of his wand exploded. A jet of silver light hit Malfoy in the stomach and he doubled up, wheezing.

"Nice," said Ron, roaring with laughter. Malfoy looked stunned.

Several of the boys tittered. "He got off, he got off, he got off…"

"You could say sorry," Harry suggested bluntly. He could not believe what had just happened.

Malfoy jumped forward. "WEASLEY!" He put on a shrill, piercing voice. "Disgusting," he said.

"I haven't touched it, all right?" Ron roared back. Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground.

"You’re going to pay," said Malfoy in a voice barely louder than a whisper. It would have been better if he had shouted.

Harry looked at Ron, bewildered. "What are you doing that for?"

"It's what my mum does whenever someone's upset," Ron muttered, shrugging.

Harry sighed. "Maybe you'd rather not risk your neck," he said.

They fell silent. Ron let go of the front of Malfoy's robes. "I must have been mental to do this," he said in a croaky whisper. "Mental."

Malfoy wheeled around, drawing his wand. "I thought so!" he said jubilantly.

Harry took out his wand in case Malfoy leapt in and started at once. He didn’t stop to think. He might not get another chance --

A voice came suddenly out of the shadows, a soft, misty sort of voice. "There you are, Potter."

Harry jumped to his feet in shock, his wand at the ready. There, his black robes rippling in a cold breeze, stood Severus Snape. Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look.

They were cornered. Harry looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. Excuses, alibis, and wild cover-up stories chased each other around Harry's brain, each more feeble than the last.

"Don't move, Potter," said Snape lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. "What’s going on?"

"What are you asking me for?" Harry retorted. He couldn't see how they were going to get out of trouble this time. He turned around and saw Malfoy watching closely.

"Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you detention," Malfoy drawled.

Snape moved closer to Malfoy, bent down, and whispered something in his ear. Malfoy was smirking more broadly than ever.

"I didn’t know," he said, leering at Harry, who knew his face was burning.

Harry replied with the dirtiest look he could muster. Malfoy did yet another impression of a fainting fit. Then he'd realized that nobody found this funny, because they were all so impressed at the way Harry had managed to stay on his bucking broomstick.

"Shove off, Malfoy," said Ron, whose jaw was clenched.

"I'd take you on any time on my own," said Malfoy. He stopped there to enjoy the effect of these words. "Tonight, if you want."

"No!" said Harry, furiously; it was crucial that Ron understand.

Ron's ears went pink. Harry nodded.

"No thanks," said Ron weakly. "Better not risk it."

"I’ll decide that," said Malfoy. He scowled at the dark ceiling. "I’m not complaining or anything--" he got gingerly to his feet, rubbing his backside--"but I’m aching all over..."

"It’s all right, Draco," said Snape, lowering his wand. His face was inscrutable. "Well, I'll be off, plenty to do, you know..."

"Hang on," blurted Harry. "What about my punishment?" It was not like Malfoy to pass up the chance to demonstrate his power as prefect, which he had happily abused the previous year.

"Potter, you can skin Malfoy's shrivelfig," said Snape, giving Harry the look of loathing he always reserved just for him.

This wasn't the first time Snape had given Harry the impression of being able to read minds. "I’m honoured," said Harry darkly.

Snape spat bitterly on the ground. "Ten points from Gryffindor." He gave another bow and left.

"FINE!" yelled Harry, and in his temper, red and gold sparks shot out of the end of his wand, still clutched in his hand.

Malfoy mouthed Remedial Potions? at Harry behind Snape’s back before following him. Then his face split in a wide smile.

Harry couldn't help it. He grinned, too. "Midnight on Saturday!" he said in a hoarse voice. "Why not?"

"Yeah…" said Malfoy. "See you, Potter!" He gave Harry a hearty wink and strode off.

The evening air had never smelled so sweet. Harry lay flat on his back, breathing hard as though he had been running. He couldn't ever remember feeling happier. It was hard, just now, to feel worried about anything--even Lord Voldemort. Without really thinking, he took a sandwich from the plate on his bed and crammed it hungrily into his mouth.

Hedwig clicked her beak with a sort of dignified disapproval. Harry snorted with laughter.

"It’s been a very weird night, Hedwig," he yawned. And without even removing his glasses, he slumped back on his pillows and fell asleep.