A/N: I do not own these characters! This plot was concocted in my head, and if someone has a similar one, I haven't read it yet! Just to warn you guys, I was so tired when I wrote this that I re-read it, and positively laughed my ass off! It was great! So don't blame me if it'sa little bit weird. Enjoy!
Messing With The Professor
It isn't pleasant when one is reduced to tears; especially if that person is Draco Malfoy. That day, he was so bored that he would cry just to make things seem livelier.
The Slytherin common room was in some kind of stupor, and all the students could do was either sit on the stiff, green couches or drape themselves lazily over the plush, green and silver arm-chairs. They had the day free because exams were over and the students had a few more weeks until they were free to go home and leave the grimy dungeons.
The stifling temperature in their living quarters also added to spreading this listlessness, like the black plague or some other infectious disease. Draco was, to say the least, fed up. He needed something to spice-up the crowd of pathetic teenagers.
He had the perfect plan, too.
"Let's do something, min-people." He ignored the slip. The blond boy's face was insanely mischievous; any sensible person would not follow through on whatever he was planning.
He received grunts and nods of approval from the group of 6th and 7th years. They still didn't look very enthusiastic.
"Okay then," he boasted, "let's head down to that little secluded area near the lake and I'll explain the rules of the game." Other nods and sounds of half-hearted affirmations were made by the end of his explanation.
When they were all seated in a circle, the shade of the trees protecting them from the raging sun, Draco started explaining.
"So, don't freak out or anything, but this bloke, Terry Boot or something from Ravenclaw, told me about this game. Its muggle, but I heard it's really fun." He smiled encouragingly. Some people snorted when he said "muggle" but other than that, he had the group's undivided attention. What else was there to do?
"It's called Truth or Dare. The rules are clearly in the name of the game, but there are simple guidelines we must follow.
If the person picks truth or dare, they have to do whatever the other person asks or says. If you cannot complete the truth or the dare, you are confined to the Hufflepuff dormitories or you have other serious punishments inflicted upon you. And to make this a little more interesting, I've snuck into old Sevvie's storage cabinet and stolen a bottle of freshly made Veritaserum.
If you don't want to participate, leave now, go ahead, nobody is stopping you, but if you accept to play this and forfeit, you will suffer the consequences." Oh, how he liked having power. He grinned evilly. Not one person made even the tiniest move to leave, however, because they didn't want to look like losers or, god forbid, as if they were afraid. Draco was the Slytherin Prince, and he liked to milk that title for all it was worth.
"Okay then…," laughed Draco as if they had made the wrong choice by staying, shaking his head discreetly, his blonde locks obscuring his view for a split-second, "I should start—just to set the mood of deep embarrassment…" Draco was cackling wickedly while pin-pointing his victim from his small entourage.
"Pansy, dahling…" he said airily, when he spotted her. 'Oh, how I want her to burn in hell,' he thought, smiling innocently on the outside.
This girl was the queen of everything annoying, meaning gossip. Even though he was gay, he still didn't like all of the pointless stories concerning Harry Potter and Ron Weasley making out in deserted broom-sheds, of McGonagall cheating on Dumbledore with professor Vector. He was too evil to care about petty things such as relationships.
He wasn't flaming or anything, but he certainly didn't like those things (as he liked to call them--girls). Back to the point: sweet, glorious REVENGE!
"Well well well, what shall you do for me today?" He did an exceptionally good impression of a certain character on the Simpsons, an evil character, even though he had never even seen an episode.
"Truth or dare?"
Draco's smirk was menacing, almost daring her to choose the easy way out. Pansy, being a Slytherin at heart, showed the others that she wasn't stupid by picking dare. She eyed the tiny bottle of Veritaserum with caution. That was way too dangerous to meddle with. It wasn't that she was brave, oh no, she wasn't; it was a way to prove to her love (Draco) that she wasn't afraid of a challenge.
"Oh, you are going to die, Parkinson." Oh, how long I've waited, my sweet… Draco day-dreamed of chopping Pansy's head with his sword (which he kept safely sharpened in his closet at home for emercency use), and he tried to think of a dare horrible enough for her.
As Draco made up his mind, his pale face changed from concocting to serious, to amused and then to pure sinfulness.
"Snog professor Snape. Now. And when you get close enough, slip this into his drink." The boy handed her a clear bottle filled to the brim with brown, chocolaty liquid. He laughed maniacally and then pointed to the greasy professor in question, currently basking in the sunlight. Surprisingly, he was enjoying the heat. It wasn't everyday he actually ventured outside; he was more likely to stay cooped up in the dungeons to make very complicated potions all day-long.
The black-haired man was really supposed to be keeping an eye on the students, but he had decided to get a nice tan first. He even went as far as to try a drink the headmaster had suggested, something called a 'Sex on the Beach.' It tasted very good.
"But…I don't want to! What if I forfeit?" She stared blankly in Snape's direction, wide-eyed. Pansy was groping desperately for a way out, eyeing the professor's drink with apprehension. 'Draco's way too evil for his own good,' she thought savagely, glaring at her house-mate.
"What Pansy, do you want to be fed to the Giant Squid or forced to watch McGonagall sing and dance naked in the shower?" He fingered his chin thoughtfully. "That can easily be arranged, you know!" The manipulative blonde boy was having a blast, and to make things even better he wouldn't divulge what the brown substance was.
"But that Granger girl is going to decapitate me! They're dating, remember?" She looked revolted as the mental images unfolded in her mind. "Or did that just slip from your pretty blonde head! And did you see that bruise she gave you back in the third year? She's nuts, I tell you! I don't want my face ruined!"
Draco scoffed, grimacing slightly. He didn't like thinking about that particular slap. He narrowed his grey eyes.
"Don't worry; your face can't get any worse than it already is. Now go and kiss the git, tongue included! Oh, and don't forget the vial." He pushed her in the direction of the peaceful, lazing Potions Master.
Pansy, (having ignored the insult) with an air of complete trepidation, approached the older man as if he were a bomb just ticking to be set off. She was scared of loosing her head, or worse…
When she was in seeing distance of Snape, she eyed his half-naked body warily, a disgusted look adding to herpug-like face.
Do I really have to do this? Would I rather watch stupid Hufflepuffs frolicking all day than kiss my potions professor, who is surely going to kill me?
She surrendered. Nothing was worse than being in the company of dense, happy people for a full day. Nothing.
The Slytherin hastily took out her wand and muttered a spell to removethe tanning lotion spread so disgustingly and messily on Snape's pale stomach. Scrunching up her nose in disgust, she took the brown bottle out of her pocket.
She was positive that the professor was fast asleep, but she couldn't tell because he was wearing rather nice black shades that covered his eyes.
Pansy took her chance, feeling many pairs of eyes on her back, and pressed her lips against her professor's limp, unresponsive ones while unscrewing the bottle and pouring copious amounts of the gooey stuff in his drink—
WHAM.
What felt like ten seconds to Pansy, was in reality twenty minutes. She woke up from the bowels of pure darkness in the same little clearing near the lake. She felt awful; he head stung whenever she moved and she felt like she was breathing through a plastic tube.
"I shouldn't have underestimated that mudblood. Tut tut… Poor Pansy, look, she's waking up."
The voice belonged to Draco, and he was actually smiling at Pansy. It wasn't a very friendly one, but it was still a smile.
"Ughn. What happened to me?" she whined while rubbing her eyes sleepily.
"Well, you did it! Snape drank his spiked 'Sex on the Beach'! I could sing, but I'm horrible..."
"What was that stuff anyways? It looked positively foul…"
"Oh…" Another insane smile and wink.
"Just some muggle medicine I found in the mudblood's purse…I can't believe she leaves it unattended! The label said something like Eshlex, but I can't be certain. I read the instructions, though, and you'll never believe it! Snape's going to be shitting like he's never shat before, like a madman, in like ten minutes!"
The whole group of students laughed cruelly. Nice bunch of Slytherins. Draco was jumping up and down in glee. He looked like a five-year-old child waiting to open presents on Christmas Day. It was actually rather frightening from Pansy's point of view. She guessed his true self had finally shone through. The blonde girl sighed happily, not thinking twice about what she had done to her teacher.
As Harry Potter and his two best friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were about to enter the Great Hall for lunch, they were almost knocked to the floor by Snape, who was surprisingly running at a speed the Road Runner would be jealous of and clutching his rear protectively, sweating like Neville in Potions.
"Get out of the way! GET OUT OF THE WAY," he shouted, sounding like someone had pinched his balls. The Gryffindors were too shocked and entertained to move, so he shoved them to the side with one arm, or attempted to. His other hand was still gripping his bottom as if life itself depended on it, and he was too weak.
"What's wrong, Severus?" asked his girlfriend worriedly.
"Where's the bathroom? WHERE'S THE BATHROOM?" Bending over and breathing heavily and fast, he was getting very frantic, almost panicked. He ignored Hermione blatantly. Definitely panicked. He sounded like Moaning Myrtle.
"Why do you need a bathroom, professor?" said Ron. Hermione was checking her purse for her new obsession—makeup.
"That's odd…Crookshanks' x-lax is gone…"
It was too late. He would never make it in time.
Their Potions Master shat in his pants.
A/N: Okay...tell me what you think. I'll accept any kind of critisicm, and I don't mind flames...Hehe. I love Evil!Draco.