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I actually tried to exert some effort here, to write something worthwhile... anything... even a little bit... but no. I suck. This ficlet... also pretty much sucks. Read at your peril!! :P

...Though, uh, Ste tells me we all do dorky things out of fandom love. I think she is too kind ^^;; This is more like 'fandom senility', methinks :> Or possibly it's just crack. :-?

Disclaimer: not mine.

Author's Note: Just in case you think I take all this Very Seriously. (Or if you don't care, that's fine too. Um.)

(A play in two scenes.)


Harry, a sometime boy hero, currently bitter.
Draco, a sometime antagonist, currently disinterested.

That vague, misty time when the boys are in Hogwarts but the war is over. Call it 'Seventh Year 2: Back With a Vengeance'.

The Hogwarts courtyard, by the fountain near the low wall, near-crumbling and green with ivy-- and in the mind of Harry Potter.


(The environment basically never changes, remaining static. The lights dim or brighten for emphasis, and often the characters will stand back to back, speaking to the air in front of them as if entirely unaware or in denial of their contact. Sometimes they'll speak while tumbled to the floor, hands on each other's bodies in some confusion of anger or lust.

The actors never leave the stage; when not active, they would sit on a stool in a shadowed corner.

Two areas are defined by spotlight: the fountain and the tree by the gate and the clear cobblestoned ground in the center, with a shadowy corridor streatching back behind it.)

(AT RISE, our protagonist is sitting on the steps to the fountain, writing on the scrap of parchment on his knees. Then HARRY tears it up and throws the paper in the fountain, and gets up to move forward, speaking to the audience.)

HARRY: There was a war. Perhaps you've heard of it. Heroes, villains and rogues, betrayals and prophecies, boys who were literally born to defeat great evil out of still greater sacrifice-- blah blah blah blah. All that rubbish. (rolls his eyes) God, I'm sick of it. Next time I see a reporter from the Prophet within sighting distance on their way to me, I swear I'm just going to pay some Muggle to-- shhhkt. (makes a motion across his throat with one finger) So did I mention? I'm so bored I'm writing my "memoirs". (does air quotes with two forefingers)

(DRACO gets up from his stool in the shadowed corner, strolling over. Not walking: strolling with swishy hips and everything. He doesn't speak, just watches Harry with an evil little smirk.)

(Harry walks purposefully up to Draco until he's almost nose-to-nose, but still speaks to the audience as if Draco's not really there.)

HARRY: Oh, and then there's Malfoy. Of course, he had to come back from Durmstrang now that we've reopened, even though he's pretty much repeating his seventh year. I'm not sure what he was doing in Durmstrang; either he was waiting out the war like the ferret-- I mean, the chicken he is, or he was off to do horribly twisted things with those super-hung Bulgarians. Personally, I think he's come back just to taunt me, but either way I suspect he's... up to something. He always is!

(He walks to the center of the stage, beneath the main spotlight.)

HARRY: (shouting) They never quit!

(Draco walks up behind Harry, tapping him on the shoulder with his fingers.)

DRACO: Excuse me, Potter?

HARRY: (whipping around) What now?! You're interrupting!

DRACO: (grins confidentially at the audience and winks) Your fly is open.

(Harry scrambles to check his trousers, making a loud huffing noise when he sees everything is the same as he'd left it.)

HARRY: (coughs) As I was saying... ahem. I feel it's only fair to say that Malfoy has always been this immature and annoying-- it's not only now. Though it's also true that he does get worse every day. Can you believe how forbearing I am? I don't know why I continue to pay attention to him, really, except he's a nasty git, though I feel a bit sorry for him whenever he's not being a complete tosser. Which is pretty much all the time.

DRACO: (to the audience, as he peers over Harry's shoulder) Potter's having one of his little self-important inner monologues again, like he's the star of the play or something, isn't he? I can just tell when he's like that, you know. Honestly, I don't know how anyone could put up with him. And did you hear about him actually getting another girlfriend? (chuckles) I bet it was a love-potion, though she was a Weasley. Anything is possible when it comes to that lot, you mark my words.

HARRY: He thinks I don't hear him thinking bad thoughts about the Weasleys, but I can. He also thinks he's safe now that he's not, oh, I don't know, actively trying to poison people, but that's just what I want him to think. When it comes to Malfoy, there's always something fishy going on! I mean, just this morning he had this disturbing grin as he spread caviar onto perfectly wholesome wheat bread in that posh little manner! I mean, who spreads things like that on bread with their pinkies out? It's just weird, isn't it!

DRACO: Oooh, look, Potter's having that self-righteous yet dazed look again, like he's either about to fall over and start twitching or run after someone shouting things like 'you stop right there, ruffian!' and 'CONSTANT VIGILANCE!' (sniffs) I bet he'd turn me into a ferret too, if only he'd been clever enough to think of it first.

HARRY: (facing Draco) You think you're funny, don't you?

DRACO: (drawling) You think you're menacing, don't you?

HARRY: I am not having witty repartee with you and that's final. I mean, er, that's totally irrelevant! My point is, what are you doing here?

(A beat)

DRACO: I didn't realize you owned Hogwarts already, Potter.

HARRY: See! See! That's what I mean. You're doing it. You're doing that thing again, dammit!

DRACO: (takes a prudent step back) What are you raving about?

HARRY: You're just trying to-- to-- poke me, make me snap and do horrible nasty things to you I'll have to regret in the morning, but I won't play along!

(A beat)

DRACO: I see. Have you thought of getting help for your violent need to-- (blushing violently) --That is, your homosexual urges? No? Shame.

HARRY: What! What did you say?!

DRACO: Well, you've always been kind of gay, haven't you, Potter? I mean, we're all friends here, no need to deny it. I haven't even been paying attention, but I could feel you burning holes in my arse all sixth year, and it was pretty uncomfortable, believe me. You're lucky I didn't notify my Head of House, actually.

HARRY: You-- you-- I-- You're making things up again! You're asking for it, you know. That's what it is. A sad little attempt to deflect attention from what a flaming homo you are yourself. Pretty transparent, Malfoy.

(Harry moves to the edge of the stage, falling to his knees with his head in his hands.)

HARRY: (to the audience) Holy FUCK, he'd NOTICED! FUCK!

(He stands apart from Draco, facing him squarely, still speaking to the audience.)

HARRY: Well, as they say, the best defense is a good offense.... God, I love being a Gryffindor sometimes.

DRACO: (through his teeth) Is that the best you can do these days, Potter? Too traumatized to use your wand properly, are you?

HARRY: I'll show you properly!

HARRY: (to the audience) Holy Batman, I need to get new comebacks right bloody quick here. I'm starting to feel stale around the edges. Oh wait, I'm not allowed to say 'Batman', am I? Oh well.

(Harry waves his wand, and Draco has cute little ferret ears and a cute little ferret tail, and also tiny little ferret whiskers. He's still human other than that, though he's wearing shiny silver shorts and thigh-high leather boots with heels.)

DRACO: (after he feels up his ears and stares at his shiny crotch) All right, so I know I was too distracted to mention this in sixth year, but you-- you are really annoying, Potter. And also really gay. Really very gay.

(Draco keeps trying to look behind him at his arse in an intrigued manner. Possibly checking to see if he's got a twitchy ferret tail, which naturally he does. After a moment, he thrusts his hips out in a challenging fashion.)

HARRY: (licking his lips with a smacking sound) Um, I... what was I saying?

DRACO: You were saying how you were going to change me back right now before I twist your nose off with a spoon.

HARRY: A spoon? Really?

DRACO: Definitely a spoon.

HARRY: We're... we're doing that thing again. The one that I refuse to do, by the way.

HARRY: (to the audience) It starts with a b and ends with an r! B and r, b and r, banter! (a beat) Christ, I need a drink 'cause this is getting too postmodern to handle.

DRACO: Thing?

DRACO: (to the audience) We're not postmodern, Harry, we're avant-garde. Soon you'll be making snide commentary on the lamentable state of fanon Draco today, and everyone can groan in unison. Just you watch and see, I think I spot a few sensitive souls sneaking out the back door already. I suspect they've cottoned on that there'll be no public indecency on stage and decided to cut their losses. Ahem.

HARRY: Am I developing an echo? Yes, thing! I mean, you're doing it right now! You're doing it, Malfoy! Have you no shame, man?

DRACO: Lovely as this conversation is, perhaps we can move on to something a tiny bit more filling. Some of us have a short attention span and need some sort of incentive or reason for living or... what have you. For instance: wanna fuck? (ducks his head to "examine his nails")

HARRY: No. Why do you ask?

HARRY: (to the audience) Oh, who cares anymore. Plausibility is for sissies and various people without cocks, like say... Voldemort. You knew I had to mention Voldemort, didn't you? I mean, come on! VOLDEMORT! COCKS! It just goes together! (mumbling) Oh, shut up. No one fucking appreciates me, that's the problem.

HARRY: I'm very straight, I'll have you know. I have references! Girlfriends! And I have authorial intent on my side, so there! Take my oppressive hetero cock and suck it up, bitch! I mean, shove it where it hurts! I mean... er....

DRACO: Is that why you have a hard-on right now?

HARRY: Pretty much, yeah. Authorial intent is a bitch. Literally.

HARRY: (tilting his head up) Damn you!

(A beat: and Harry cocks his head and quickly unbuttons his trousers in silence. Harry wears red boxers. Draco looks over his shoulder periodically but walks off into the shadows of the corridor as LIGHTS FADE TO BLACKOUT.)


(LIGHTS UP on Draco, lying naked across Harry's lap in the dried autumn leaves scattered by the lakeshore).

HARRY: (to the audience) All right, so I know I'm supposed to be writing my memoirs here, but then something actually happened like, two weeks ago and I can't be arsed. Besides, this is rather private stuff, don't you think? Like I'd want people to know about what I actually got up to with Draco Malfoy of all people. Actually, I don't think I want to know myself. The things you'll do when you're bored out of your skull, honestly....

DRACO: So. Let me get this straight. Your big bad hetero cock couldn't whack it when it came to doing the nasty for real, especially considering no one could ever prove you ever did, at least until you started making ickle Weasley babies. Obviously, you realized this way back in sixth year, which meant you spent it staring at my arse and choking the bishop to get in the mood, though at some point that was no longer working, and....

HARRY: Don't just make things up as you please! I didn't mean to break up with Ginny!

DRACO: So why did you?

HARRY: I-- it's complicated! The likes of you wouldn't understand, anyway!

(Draco remains silent, not answering.)

(A beat.)

HARRY: I just-- couldn't, you know. (coughs)

DRACO: ...couldn't--?

HARRY: You know what, fuck you! I know what you're thinking, and you can just-- you can just fuck yourself. I-- I mean, we're not like that! And you! Don't tell me you got a stiffy getting that poncey hair of yours stroked, 'cause I know you didn't! I was looking!

(Harry rants while stroking Draco's shiny hair gently in the faint silver light, making an issue of not looking at the huge meaty sausage sticking out from Draco's lap.)

HARRY: (whispering to the audience) Ooops.... Also, I feel I should also mention that that is the real reason why I play hide the sausage with Malfoy instead of the other way around. Christ on a stick! They must be bred for that sort of thing! His porn-star name would definitely be Hugecock McFerretson.

DRACO: You are such a pervert, Potter. I could feel you watching me. I could practically hear you drooling, too.

HARRY: Oh yeah?

DRACO: Yeah.

HARRY: Well! Well, you're a ferret with a huge cock, so there! Look who's the freak now, Malfoy!

DRACO: You are such a wanker, Potter.

HARRY: Aren't you getting repetitive now? Also, pot and kettle much?

DRACO: (speaking over him) Yeah. A stalkery, obsessive wanker. And a pervert, possibly with some sort of latent bestiality tendencies. Why do I associate with you? Merlin, my standards, my poor standards.... So sad.

HARRY: The ugly truth is, you can't get enough of my huge Gryffindor cock. (snorts) Besides, if I'm a wanker, you're definitely a big hairy troll.

DRACO: This is true. Oh well.

(After a moment, Harry and Draco dress and start walking back towards the distant castle.)

HARRY: Want to catch a film?

DRACO: Is it going to be Muggle?

HARRY: All right, fine, but--

DRACO: But it's porn?

HARRY: (mumbles) Maybe.

DRACO: Say it's porn and you've got yourself a deal. And there had better be a private viewing box, and wizarding binoculars, and--

HARRY: Malfoy, that's for theatres.

DRACO: Whatever. Porn.

HARRY: Yeah.

(Harry waits until Malfoy passes him, then slaps him on the arse.)

HARRY: Bitch.

(BLACKOUT. The play is over.)


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the artist formerly known as lunacy

October 2012

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