Im new. So I hope you will forgive me for this entry being lack lustre.


Oh Hell No!

I did not survive a dark lord, bent on ridding the world of my kind in the most horrible ways imaginable, just to let this ferret torture me at home.
I did not earn a Masters in Charms, Transfigurations, and bloody fucking Potions Just to waist it away doing tricks for this Lockhart reject.
I did not eat right and work out, to let this body go and get defiled with his Inbred Dick.

I’m Hermione Granger, muggleborn. The Ministry of Magic just passed a Marriage Law.
I’m soon to become Hermione Malfoy.

I’m soon to be widowed.

:::::​

Draco Malfoy thought this day would be the best day of his young life. When his Farther had managed to pass that marriage law, he got first dibs on any muggle born bitch he wanted. He already knew who he wanted.

She was stubborn, Idealistic, and a fighter. She was also a bossy Bookworm, who didn’t know when to shut up. But thanks to this wondrous law he had complete control over her. He thought the broken look he would see on his wedding day would be the icing on the cake.

‘Why must she ruin all of it with that …that…smile?’

For the ceremony was over and she had not cried out of misery to be sold off as cattle. She was not begging anyone to see reason, or trying to escape. She willingly signed the wedding contract and gave him the widest smile he had ever seen.

On any other face he might have thought it charming, but on this one.

On her face, it frightened him.
He half hoped Potter and the weasel would try and do something idiotic like storm the wedding wands a blazing to cart of the now Mrs. Malfoy, away into the sunset atop Hippogriffs. But no such luck. They were here alright even though he had paid security to keep them out. No they were there clapping uproariously for their friend as if they should be celebrating.

She blushed at them. It wasn’t a I’m mortally embarrassed blush. No it was a ‘I’m pleased with myself too’ blush.

‘Mother Fuckers, the lot of them!’
‘I’ll show her tonight’ Draco smirked a dark smirk to himself. When he was through with her she would know her place. He didn’t think she would have children after he was through with her, but that’s alright, she was a mudblood anyway. He could always go to the weasel for some kids. He shuddered momentarily at the thought.

Maybe half-blood children wouldn’t be so bad. It’s the only thing he and Potter ever agreed on. That Bitch can find someone else to help her make puppies.
Draco grinned a sadistic grin. It was sad that he had to mar that skin though, had she been born a pureblood he probably would have courted her properly.

Draco did not notice that his grin mirrored the 3 long time friends. He would not see that look again until that night.

::::::​

Draco Practically dragged the still smiling bride into his bedroom at Malfoy manor. Hermione stared at the fine furniture, sculptures and other signs of wealth the Malfoy family displayed in appreciation.

‘At least she has good taste’ Draco thought consolingly as nothing had gone according to plan at all today. The only thing he had to look forward to was finally here.

They were officially on their honeymoon.

“enough of that! Disrobe and get on the bed” He ordered.

Hermione stiffened slightly, but eased into a catlike posture as she quietly and gracefully made her way to the bed… to inspect it.

Draco Pulled out his wand and pointed his arm at the witch” When I tell you to do something I expect you to do It. At once. Crucio!”

Draco was momentarily stunned as the mudblood continued to stare at the bed in fascination of the rune work.

He looked down at the end of his wand to only find it missing, along with half of his hand excluding his thumb. He looked down to find the missing appendage being poked at by along broad sword sticking out of thin air.

“Thanks Harry! Send Luna my love.”

“No Problem Hermione, I had to fight Ron to be able to do this. Oh The video cameras on the armoire. Luna says its charmed to never run out of film.”

“excellent”

“Oh I almost forgot. Here you go Hermione.”

Harry pulled out a silver box with lacy trim ribbons.

Hermione greedily opened it ignoring the now screaming Draco Malfoy clutching his severed hand close to his chest.

“Oh Harry, If you weren’t already married I’d sleep with you. “

Hermione cried as she pulled out a leather whip with diamonds encrusted along the leather that seemed to give off a electric shock when exposed to flesh.

“Well I’ll run it by Luna, it was her gift too you know.”

“Oh you… get!” Hermione smiled fondly at the long time friend.

Harry turned to leave dragging the bloodied sword of Gryffindor along but stopped and turned to give Hermione a Saucy wink.

“Don’t have too much fun now” and with a ominous “pop” he was gone.

“Oh Draco tonight’s going to be so much fun.” Hermione proceeded to transfigure her wedding dress into some kind of leather outfit with traps and spikes protruding from provocative places.

If Draco wasn’t horrified by the women and what she was about to do, he might have been turned on by the out fit and high heel boots that seemed to help enlarge her chest.

Hermione gave a experimental crack of her new whip. It hit Draco Malfoy’s left eye by accident but either way. It was a spectacular sight of blood and ocular fluids as his eye exploded from his head. Hermione thought the whip sung to her but really that was Draco’s dulcet tones as he howled in pain that would lull Mrs. Malfoy to sleep for years to come.

Draco looked up with his remaining eye at the tinkling noise he was hearing.

“Oh Draco!” Hermione giggled fondly. She couldn’t seem to hold off her glee and joy.

Draco was afraid. So very afraid.

“what’s this?” a yellow stick it appeared at the head of the whip as she coiled it back around her arm slowly.

Hermione read the short note quickly and then once again “no”…she said disbelievingly.

‘I’m saved’ Draco thought with joy

“No fucking way!” this was aimed at the red light on the armoire. Draco’s thoughts of survival dimmed at the almost childish glee his wife was displaying.
She took the whip and cracked it at the bed.

Where once stood a Ancient mahogany bed with tasteful emerald sheets and fluffy down pillows, now stood a rusty iron cage with spikes and chains.

Draco cried

::::::::​

“Oh This is my favourite part.” Hermione gushed as she stole popcorn from Dobby as he sat Indian style beside her with Ron and Harry sitting up close to the big screen TV like they were 6.

“What the Hell is that Granger?” Draco Malfoy cried as Hermione brought out a meat grinder that definitely did not pass any safety inspections.

“Draco I’m hurt, you have to learn to call sweetheart. I’m no longer a granger I'm a Malfoy!” she said this with a superior pose and huff.

Ron and Harry paled at what was done next, as they were men. They could not wish it on anyone less deserving but still next time they watched, they were fast forwarding past this part.

“At least we know their wont be any new Malfoy’s dirtying our streets.” Ron added loud enough over the screams for mercy.

“What about Lucius?” Luna questioned from the kitchen as she made more snacks.

“well we couldn’t have this law continue so while Hermione was having fun we used the sword some more.”

“I do not approve of your use of that sword Harry” the portrait of the late headmaster admonished above his fireplace.

“yea yea…I’m going down a dark path… blah blah… were better than that… blah… turn away from the dark….blah blah!” Harry dismissed the disapproving headmaster. As Luna came in with Nachos and melted cheese.

“Oh watch this.” Hermione gushed.

‘WuH-CHHH’

“Holy crap.”
“how the hell do you keep doing that?”

“Well there goes the other eye.” T.V. Hermione stated calmly as the hog tied Draco convulsed as he oozed blood from his many puncture and severed limbs.

“I guess I can end this now." TV Hermione said sadly.

"Now Draco don’t tell anyone you didn’t have any sexual activities tonight. Someone is getting a blowjob.” Hermione sing-songed.

“How the hell do you propose that after what you did to me?” Draco whimpered defiantly.

“Ah good you still got some fight in ya. I prefer you to go out snarling. None of that calmly accepting your fate for you.”

“who said it was you that was getting it” Hermione pointed at a large metal spike that protruded from her crotch. Then she remembered he couldn’t see anymore

“I’m pointing at the metal spike on my crotch.” She helpfully pointed out to him.

Hermione proceeded to walk calmly over to Her husband and skull fucked him until she accidentally drove the spike all the way through his head when she got carried away.

“whoops.”

The screen went to static.

Silence filled the flat.

“I’m Frightened... but oddly turned on.” Ron stated.

Hermione smiled.




Oh I just read Darius's post, The spike thing was a randomn though on my part.

But I call the Marriage law thing because i dont remeber ever reading one where the forced to marry ends their signifigant other.

 

Hermione! Why does Hermione get the honor of killing Draco!

No worries on the skull fuck, it's not that great an idea to begin with...

Good Job though.

 

Wow. Thanks for all of the compliments. I never considered submitting it to another site. I guess I figured anyone that wanted to read it had already seen it here. Maybe I'll do that.

---------------------------

The timing would never get any better than this. Something had happened to the supposed 'Golden Trio', maybe Weasleby put his foot in his mouth (again) and pissed off Potty and the mudblood. Draco didn't know the details, nor did he really care. What he did know was that none of them had been spotted anywhere near each other for at least a week. Some of the professors seemed on edge too, though whether or not that had anything to do with the 'Dream Team's' odd behavior was unclear. They played that sort of thing close to the vest; Dumbledore more so than anyone. At any rate, the three friends would be much easier pickings separately and Draco already had his first target in mind.

The Granger bitch was doing her prefect rounds alone, since Weasley was either avoiding her or, even more likely, shirking his responsibilities as usual. Draco was going to show her just exactly where she belonged; on her knees, servicing him. Oh yes, soon she would realize her true place in the grand scheme of things. She was nothing but a whore and he would impress this upon her, beyond a shadow of a doubt, before the night was through.

The Slytherin knew better than to assault her anywhere there were paintings, as any fool could deduce that the portraits reported directly to headbastard Dumbledore. Likewise, he wouldn't be able to use magic to subdue Granger because, at this time of night, even a simple stunner would stand out like a sore thumb to any monitoring devices the damned muggle-loving Mugwump had set up. No, Draco would have to defeat the muggleborn girl using muggle methods. The hypocrisy of this was lost on him.

He had hidden himself in a shadowed doorway in one of the, more or less, abandoned corridors of the school. Most prefects wouldn't bother to patrol this area but the apple-polishing know-it-all wouldn't dream of skipping it and that would be her undoing. Earlier in the evening, just before the students had gone to their dorms for the night, when a small spell would go unnoticed, Draco had cast a silencing charm on the room whose doorway he was lurking in. All he had to do was get Granger in the room and shut the door and no one would ever hear her cries for help.

She was drawing close now, her mary-janes clicking smartly on the floor, the creamy flesh of her legs, illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the windows. The bookworm was writing something, aided by a muggle clipboard. Did the swotty little bitch ever stop studying? Draco's heart was pounding in his ears as the adrenaline rush began. He was poised to strike but halted immediately because she had stopped and turned her back to him. A gust of wind, courtesy of the drafty old castle, had knocked the quill from her hand and she'd bent over to pick it up. His breath caught as she bent at the waist. His eyes ascended her legs, feasting on the indentations at the back of her knee, the curve of her thighs. Her skirt rode higher and he was certain if she'd bend just a fraction more he'd be rewarded with a view of her knickers; something plain and no-nonsense, no doubt, knowing the stodgy mudblood. He absent-mindedly licked his lips in anticipation. It was not to be. She had quill in hand and resumed her course.

'Shit! So close... Wait. What do I care? I'll have it all in a moment.', he thought.

The second she had passed him, he covered her mouth with one hand and grabbed her around the waist with the other, dragging her back into the classroom. He kicked the door shut and shoved her across the room, where she stumbled into some desks.

'Phase one of the plan; complete. Now onto phase two; subdue her quickly and reap my reward.'

He charged her before she could regain her bearings, jerked her around to face him and delivered a vicious punch to her jaw that sent her sprawling to the floor with a yelp. He was on top of her in an instant. Sneering in her face, he grabbed a breast, roughly.

"What's the matter, mudblood? No smart answers this time? When I'm through with you, you'll be begging for more of my cock like the whore y-!"

Instead of looking panicked, she had a look of cold fury on her face.

'Something isn't right. Since when are her eyes-' His thoughts, as well as his rant, were immediately interrupted.

His legs were between hers so she couldn't bring them together but, in a feat of strength and dexterity she shouldn't have been capable of, she brought her heels up, dug them into his sides and launched him across the room with a shove. Hermione used her momentum to bring herself to her feet in one fluid motion. Draco crashed down, painfully, on top of a cluster of desks, right on his back.

Shocked, but still amped on adrenaline, he quickly regained his feet. Hermione stood before him, bushy hair writhing like a den of snakes; Medusa in schoolgirl's clothing. Her eyes blazed green, their glow mixing with the wan moonlight to give her face a sickly pallor. Energy crackled around her and her clothing rippled into a boy's uniform as her flesh warped and twisted. For a brief, horrifying, moment the left half of Hermione's face sneered at Draco while Harry Potter glared from the other side.

"Draco! You ignorant little wanker...", Harry growled.

"Po-polyjuice!", was all the blond could manage.

"Pathetic! You Slytherins really do skate by in potions, don't you? If you weren't licking Snape's greasy arse for your marks you'd have been chucked out of class ages ago. Must be nice having Daddy buy your OWL scores." Harry's body warped again and, the larger, Ron Weasley was rushing Draco, knocking him across the room.

"Honestly, Malfoy!", Ron's voice modulated inhumanly into Granger's and there she was again, hands on her hips. "If you had studied the text properly, you would know that Polyjuice Potion doesn't allow you to change your gender. At best, it would change everything but the parts specific to the opposite sex. I'm not a morph like your cousin, either, FYI."

Hermione caved in on herself, shrinking into the smaller form of Ginny. "If you could change sexes with it, I bet a hopeless, would-be rapist, like you, would have already tried conning Crabbe or Goyle into using it so you could get your end wet."

With each change the green-eyed thing got closer. Draco scrabbled backwards, scooting across the floor on his arse until he hit the wall. "Wh-what are you?", he whimpered.

"Why, I'm The Boy-Who-Lived, Malfoy, or as far as you're concerned, the Alpha and the Omega." Ginny shifted back into Potter's form.

"Pensieves are amazing tools. I've had the opportunity to use one on a number of occasions. You can review memories you didn't even realize you still had. Fascinating, no?", he inquired, his head tilted and his eyes gleaming with insanity. A wayward arc of verdant energy leapt from his arm and burned a black streak across the stone floor.

"I watched the memory of Voldemort killing my mother and then I saw something strange, something no one else had seen and no one else knew about. Not even your pathetic, half-blood master seemed to remember what truly happened to him that night."

"You see, the arrogant prick didn't just leap at me and shout 'Avada Kedavra!', oh no. He approached the crib where I lay, so defenseless, and began to cut me with those inhuman claws of his. He tried to mark me in defiance of a prophecy he had heard, about a boy who would one day be his undoing."

Draco decided that moving, at the moment, would only provoke another attack. Besides, he was riveted by the tale, in spite of himself.

"When he touched me, though, something went wrong. His power, his body, was being merged into mine. I might have unwittingly absorbed him entirely, had the many dark rituals he'd undergone not made his flesh so hard to assimilate. As it was, he pulled away too soon. I had his gift of Parseltongue, some power, but not all of it."

"It was in a state of panic that he skipped the pleasantries and used the Killing Curse on me. That nasty little unforgivable works by ripping your soul from your body. Unfortunately for him, it worked its magic on the first soul it encountered in my tiny shell; the, less entrenched, fragment of Voldemort's own, which he had left behind in me a moment before. Imagine his surprise when the curse, coming into contact with a splinter of his own soul, rebounded on him, kicking him out of his body."

"You see, it's not any nicer to fool with Soul Magic than it is to fool with Mother Nature. The magic, encountering Voldemort's soul fragment within me, while still sensing it in Voldemort's body as well, pulled a 'U-turn' and went for the largest concentration of that spirit. Thus, a fifteen-month-old defeated the Dark Lord. Unfortunately, the soul fragment he unwillingly left within me anchored the rest to this plane of existence, not only giving him a shortcut into my head but a means of living again, as well, should he find a body."

"Anyway, watching all of this in the pensieve made everything become clear and I was able to hone this newly-rediscovered talent. My friends were most impressed, I can assure you."

Draco knew he was one of the only people with the real dirt on what happened all those years ago on Halloween. He also realized that the only others that knew it were now, somehow, inside of Potter. All he could manage was a meek, "Why?"

"Why? Why do this to my friends, of all people? Because they're mine. They have been since the moment I met them. It's just more literal now. Friendship wasn't good enough anymore. They had so many things that I never even got a taste of, experienced things I never would...

He became Ron again, "Memories of a loving family."

"The feeling of having so many older brothers to play with and look after you.", Ginny spoke, earnestly.

"Being showered with love and praise as your parents' only pride and joy.", Granger intoned.

The cavalcade of faces stopped with Potter's half-crazed visage once more. "I needed them to truly be mine!", his eyes flared, malevolently, on the last word.

Draco decided that getting caught was no longer his greatest concern. He drew his wand, a curse already on his lips, but the slender shaft leapt from his grasp and into Potter's outstretched hand. Harry grinned and the wood disintegrated in his palm, leaving the glowing core, which faded into the flesh of his hand.

"Naughty, naughty Draco; papa spank."

"You can't get away with this. Dumbledore will find out what you're doing and-"

Harry snorted contemptuously, "So now, when you're all but soiling yourself in fear of what I could do to you, he is more than just a 'muggle-loving old fool'? I'm impressed. Even now, with you wallowing in cowardice, you find time to be mercenary and self-serving, if only subconsciously."

In a nauseating display, an arm, clearly Hermione's, thrust out from Potter's chest to wag an admonishing finger at Draco before quickly withdrawing.

"Tsk. Such hypocrisy. Dumbledore is of no consequence, besides, what makes you think I'll leave any bodies behind? Before I forget, Malfoy; I ran into someone during 'my' prefect rounds who I'd hate to leave out of the fun.", Harry drawled in amusement as he shrank in on himself again.

Draco had time to emit a strangled noise of astonishment before four feet and ten inches of raven-tressed Parkinson collided with his jaw in a superhuman uppercut that sent him sailing into a stack of old textbooks.

"I can feel how livid she is that you'd risk giving her even the mere appearance of being thrown over, just so you can satisfy your mudblood lust; her, your supposed girlfriend! Well... in the eyes of the public, anyway. No, she is not pleased with you, 'Drakey-poo'. She wasn't very happy to be co-opted into my little 'family' here either, at first, but like the rest of them, she quickly changed her mind."

Potter's green eyes burned in Pansy's face as her petite hands grabbed an oak bench weighing hundreds of pounds and heaved it at Draco. He scrambled out of the way before it exploded into splinters against the floor where he'd just been sitting. She lunged towards him and began a roundhouse kick that would have cracked his ribs, had she not transformed into, the taller, Ron in mid-kick. The blow to his head sent Draco reeling, literally turning him upside down before gravity regained control and dropped him earthward.

Draco groaned in pain, hoping his double vision would clear up soon. Potter loomed over him again, energy humming in the air around him. He grabbed Draco by the throat and the pureblood's world turned to agony. He couldn't breath, couldn't think, as he felt himself being pulled apart. The unimaginable pain suddenly became bliss. He was surrounded by a sea of magic, of pure, unadulterated power. Pools of red, blue, purple and silver magic floated along in a limitless ocean of green energy. If he had eyes of his own, he'd have wept. A moment later he was unceremoniously tossed aside, gasping for air. He looked up at his nemesis with questioning eyes.

"Oh please, Draco! Even Ron has his uses but you? You are the very definition of useless. You, I will simply kill."

"You're no better than the Dark Lord.", Draco cast about, desperately.

"Tiresome. As cliched as that 'you'll never get away with it.' line of yours. Do you think, given the choice, they wouldn't choose me? I'm what they want."

Potter closed his eyes and four people fell out of him onto the floor. They looked around briefly with haunted eyes, shivering, before embracing Harry, one by one, and sinking below his flesh once more.

"Pansy?", Draco whimpered. The girl narrowed her eyes at him before merging with Harry again.

"I'm going to do to you what I did to your wand. Your father and Voldemort will be next. The power he knows not, remembers not, will be his destruction. I may keep your pretty little mommy for myself, if she proves useful."

Harry grabbed Draco again and the Slytherin's body turned to dust allowing the pale gray energy of his magic to be absorbed into the scarred teen's palm.

He gathered his quill and clipboard before smoothing his skirt and adjusting his bushy brown hair. A distinctly male laugh echoed throughout the hall when Hermione's mary-janes scattered a pile of dust as she left to finish her rounds.

---------------------------

Not my best work. It's an interesting concept (in my opinion) but difficult to explain, let alone explore in 2500 words. Descriptions of his transformations (as sparse as they were) ate up any space I had for more/better dialogue. I could have freed some space by dropping the new take on why Harry (and Voldemort) survived the Killing Curse but, meh... It is what it is.

Happy Halloween!

Edit:

Lol. I only just now read your post. Variants of that phrase just pop up all over the place, don't they? Oh, and Harry's banter with the portrait was amusing.

Heh, I actually have two different 'snippets' of stories on my hard drive I work on occasionally where a Marriage Law scenario occurs and the 'heroes' start killing off either the people responsible, or their would-be spouses. Man I hate marriage law stories. It's just an excuse for Snape or Draco to rape Hermione or Ginny and get away with it (as if there aren't enough 'stories' like that already).

 

I didnt wanna do ginny because... well its Ginny!

and frankly I was going to do something simmilar to parody the whole marriage law genre. The Charactres either try to bring their dark spouse to the 'light' (I loathe that saying), whine about how unfair the ministry is, or do the absolute worst thing... fall in love!

Plus Im just getting over my whole Harmonian phase (ducks head in shame).

This was like my final goodbye to the gal.

 

Killing Ginny and Draco in one fic? You are a god!

 

QuaziJoe- Brilliant. I love your story.
Warlocke- Creepy. Seriously. But a good creepy.

 

Thanks.
I love your avatar... but I dont think were supposed to double post. Next time just edit your previous one

 

There was a small place in Draco Malfoy's world where he found he could be at peace: tormenting those who were undeserving of the title of Witch or Wizard--usually that meant demeaning mudbloods and anyone who thought that Dumbledore/Harry Potter was the neatest thing since sliced flobberworm.

He was wandering down the hall from an outing by the lake. A seemingly innocent activity if you discounted the three Hufflepuffs he tripped up, making them fall into said lake; and not counting the six birds he tortured on his way up to the castle. He was content, in his own way.

Content, that is, until he saw a familiar head of unruly black hair.

Harry Potter, least favored of all his most hated, was huddling over a small dark corner, seemingly whispering to himself.

"Potty oh Potter!" he half-yelled into the apparently empty hall. "I see you're keeping up with the crazy act--amazing how most people didn't notice you were already barmy to begin with...." he trailed off as he watched Potter stiffen and then stand jerkily.

"Malfoy," his name came out in almost a hiss. "What a wonderful surprise."

Malfoy felt his blood chill. He had expected outright fury and bull-headed Gryffindor outrage...not this strange, flat display of what seemed like indifference. "For you, I'm sure it is," Draco sneered. "I just happen to hate seeing the mere sight of you--which is why I'm leaving."

But Malfoy didn't move. He was, for some reason curious. Potter's back was still facing his own. "Were you talking to your imaginary friends?" laughed Draco with a haughty smirk.

Potter was still standing, in a still manner which made Draco infuriated. "Look at me when I insult you!" he demanded in a fierce tone.

He would wish, later, in Hell, that he had never said anything at all.

Potter turned, slowly, in a broken manner which reminded Draco of a puppet being operated with one hand. Draco's eyes widened significantly and he pedaled backwards into the wall behind him.

Black hair was similar--and then everything seemed to fade into madness: glowing emerald eyes seemed to continuously spark, like fire; a strange snake-like scar trailed down the left side of his face. Hie mouth was twisted in a cruel smile, and his whole body looked as if someone had crushed it, not unlike a used piece of paper. Soon, words came from him, his tone dark and laced with a strange, purring menace. "Like this, Malfoy?" he asked in what many might have guessed was a pleasant tone if they hadn't seen him in person.

Draco was pale with unexpected shock and terror. "Fuck..." he uttered weakly into the echoing hall. "What the bloody hell happened to you?" he managed, snarling. "Finally give in to your freakish nature? Dumbledore won't be too happy with you--" Draco suddenly couldn't breath,as there was something coiling about his neck.

Potter seemed to smile. We say seemed, because, with his expression the way it was, no one could tell. "Oh Malfoy--such an insignificant...such a waste of flesh." The way he said the word flesh made Draco's mind shudder in revulsion. "Oh? Not a total waste," Potter continued, as Draco suddenly realized that the thing coiling around his neck was a large snake. "I could use you for food. Nagini would love to have you for breakfast; she's been eyeing you for quite some time, I hear."

Draco could only choke out his screams. Potter moved closer, like a wind-up doll that needed fixing. "Oh that's right, I forgot," he said in that pleasantly menacing tone, his eyes glowing ever-bright. "I hate you, you vile bucket of putrid, in-bred, foul-minded, whiny sack of meat."

Draco made to kick him, but only suceeded in moving his foot up a millimeter, as another snake had made it's way around both his left and right legs. Potter tsked at him, like he was scolding a child. "You were half my misery these past years here--I would hate to see myself waste time on someone so wretched, but I feel like I owe it to you," he said, and Draco swore he saw fangs.

"You see Draco Malfoy, I have found something in the magic that neither that old fool Dumbledore, nor Voldemort himself dared to touch, in fear that it would overcome them. But I wasn't afraid. I did reach for it. And it gave me more power than either of them would ever be able to know." Potter's face cracked into that insane grin once again. "I'm no longer a mere tool, like the rest-I am magic. Isn't that grand?"

Snakes were everywhere, and Draco's vision was beginning to fade. "Oh, but how I ramble so," Potter's voice drifted into Draco's subconscious. Then the other boy hissed in what the blonde boy recognized as Parseltongue, and Draco felt breath enter his lungs once again. "I want this one to suffer before, and after, he dies. Will you do that for me?" Potter seemingly asked to no one.

Draco was about to retort in some fashion and reach for his wand, but soon felt a thousand pinpricks of blinding agony as dozens of pairs of fangs bit into him simultaneously.

"One good turn deserves another, right Malfoy?" Potter's calm voice drifted by, as if it was in a different realm of reality, before the twisted form of the Boy-Who-Once-Was-Harry Potter disappeared.

As his brain seemed to melt, his blood boiled while his mouth foamed, and his body writhed in agony, Draco had time before his imminent death to wonder why the stone walls all up and down the corridor were covered in red.

========================================================

Not really original, but darkly satisfying. That is all.

 

Agreed...

Has anyone thought to include Pinhead in one of these?

 

...O_O

OMG. You are a GENIUS.

...I'm thinking I should go off and DRAW that shit....moohahaha...

 

Something I whipepd up in a fit of insanity. My brit friend (who's also a beta for me) found it quite disturbing, but I figured I'd see what everyone else though.

<><><>

Draco took a deep breath, before uttering the phrase that had last been used in his 4th year. It was the same spell that Professor Moody had used to transform the blonde Slytherin into a ferret. While it was used more as “punishment” last time, now it would be used to infiltrate Gryffindor Tower to plant evidence that their Quidditch team had been using illegal contraband to give them an edge in games. Of course, everyone knew it wasn't true (even though Malfoy grudgingly never admitted it), but it would be hard to explain the contraband if Madam Hooch had “somehow” stumbled across said items.

Silently (after donning his ferret outfit), he snuck out of the boys dormitory, and worked his way to the tower, avoiding all holes that smelled of Mrs. Norris. It would be befitting of a Malfoy to become cat food now, would it? Finding the hole he needed (he'd found it one night while trying to sneak in), he waited patiently in the dark, wondering when the portrait would open, allowing him to get in unnoticed.

Without warning, it began. The ground started shaking, as though a giant was coming up the stairs. 'Probably that half-giant oaf Hagrid, to visit Potter for some inane reason,' the ferret thought to himself as he steeled his muscles to jump at a moments notice. Since he was covered by shadows, he would be impossible to see, or so he thought.

“Oh there you are, you cute little gerbil you!” a shrill, teeth-grating voice called out, jostling the poor Slytherin who forgot he was only invisible to those outside of Gryffindor Tower. If they were to leave, they'd see him right away. Before he could bolt out of there (he would need to re-plan this, when he got back), he was summoned to the perpetrators hand, who gave Draco a quick squeeze, and promptly knocked the wind out of him, removing any thoughts of resistance or escape.

The voice-carrier walked up a set of stairs, and closed a door, locking it as well. Finally no longer dizzy (the movement up the stairs made him feel queasy, him being small and all), Draco got a good luck at his kidnapper, and silently screamed. Not 10 feet away stood Ginny Weasley, the butt of many of Draco's jokes, comments, and other random acts of annoyance, standing stark naked, making Draco wonder if there truly was a god.

In her hand was a long cylindrical object, which looked large enough for Draco to squeeze through, but he hadn't the slightest clue why he would be captured just to fit into such a simple-looking object. Ginny approached Draco, setting the tube on a table that lay on a bed near Draco. Unscrewing the cap off of a bottle of “Mr. Squick's Bottle O' Licks!”, Ginny grabbed Dracos fear-paralyzed body and applied a layer of the liquid from the bottle, sending shivers through the ferrets body as he realized tonight wouldn't be a good night for his sanity, or anything else for that matter.

Satisfied in the amount of liquid covering the ferret, Ginny grabbed the tube from the table and slowly eased Draco into it, satisfied at the ease in which he went in. Then, Ginny set the tube on the floor, and joined it on the cold, stones.

Standing the tube upright (with Draco facing the ceiling), Ginny positioned herself above the cylinder, and that's when realization hit Draco. She was going to use him as a sexual toy, and he heard horror stories about these kind of accidents gone wrong from Crabbe and Goyle. Panic finally setting in, Draco attempted to escape, but the tight enclosure cut down on the air-intake of the ferret, thus giving him only enough strength to keep his eyes open in horror as she lowered herself down upon him.

At first, Draco didn't think it was so bad, as it was warmer than the cold, stone room, but then the smell assaulted his nose. The stench of rotting fish, left out in the sun for 3 years, attacked his nostrils, making him wish he had devoured some sort of less-torturous poison, as he was sure the Dark Lord wouldn't use such a horrible torture on even the Muggles who defied him. At least then he didn't try to preform....things with them! Then Draco noticed he was moving, at a reasonable speed before he realized what was happening. Eye's wide in fright, he attempted to get out before he was smothered, suffocated, or (worse) killed by stench alone. After a painful thirty seconds he realized it wasn't going to work, so he decided he'd rather drown than be killed by the stench. On an up motion he dugs his small teeth into a nearby fleshy appendage, causing an unearthly noise to assault his ears and a sickly sweet liquid (to attempt to drown him in, he assumed) to cover him and the tube.

Luckily the liquid helped Draco escape his tube-prison, but his escape was short-lived as he was sucked into the orifice to god-knows-where. His mouth open in shock, he failed to notice something had slipped down into his mouth while he was being vacuumed into a place he knew wouldn't be pretty. Eventually he stopped, destination unknown, but he knew he didn't have long to live with lack of air, he'd heard ferrets weren't the best of breathers, and knew his croaking was soon unless he did something, and quickly.

It seemed that god (if there was one, he added mentally) had graced him with good luck, as his transfiguration spell had worn off, but the problem was, he was still stuck in the living vacuum-cleaner known as Ginny Weasley. The solution was rather...messy. As Draco's body started to grow to it's normal size, her's began to swell up due to the growing it couldn't accustom.

Like an overfilled balloon she 'popped', sending blood, bones, and various organs across the room, which he noticed was a broom-closet of sorts, it looked like it had been expanded and used as a room for who knows what, not that he cared. All he wanted was to get the blood out of his Acromantula robes, and that liver out of his hair.

As he reached to extract the slimy object out of his hair, he felt his stomach turn, and expand, as though a balloon was growing there. His eyes widened in shock as he realized what had happened; he wasn't the red-heads first victim, but her last. Desperately he tried to claw into his stomach, attempting to get the object out, but failed to do so as he exploded similarly to Ginny Weasley.

Stepping out of the corpse of his former enemy. Harry Potter wondered if his gerbil Animagus form was really going to help him win the war. If it was, he'd rather be stuck in the red-head instead, at least then he knew death would come soon.

And so, Harry Potter went on to become greatest wizard in the world...but somehow got stuck with a job extracting gerbils from many people's orifices.