Amusing Draco Malfoy Hosted Ranting
Here for your convenience is the opening paragraphs:
The tall, black leather chair slowly swung around, and a deviantly-grinning Draco Malfoy placed his elbows on his cherrywood desk nonchalantly. His hands were doing the Mr. Burns Evil Arching Thing.
"Greetings, FanFiction.Net idiots." His grin widened a little, but it only served to make him look dashingly sexy. "I'm Draco Malfoy. You might have seen me in previous works of fiction including but not limited to the Harry Potter series by my dear and wonderful friend J.K. Rowling, sixty percent of all Harry Potter slash fanfictions, twenty percent of all Harry Potter het fanfictions, and other Public Service Annoucements such as 'It's Time - To Cut A Mullet,' 'Playing With Fire (Is Fun),' and 'Twenty Thousand Ways To Make Dirty Heavy Sweaty Gay Love To Harry Potter.' I'm here to bring you a Public Service Announcement which I firmly, passionately believe will prove highly beneficial to your future as a writer on FanFiction.net, which was proven to be the world's number-one source of evil... congratulations! You beat out Justin Timberlake again! As I understand, this might have had something to do with The Shaving of The Fro, and if this is true, the best of luck to Mr. Timberlake in his future with Ms. Spears, as she is by far the lesser of the two evils."
(Draco crashes Harry's 18th birthday party)
"Harry, what are they doing here?" Ron had appeared by his best friend's side.
"Gate crashing, but I'm too fucking drunk to care." Harry grinned and let go of the door to prove his total lack of balance.
(more from same story)
Harry was a big boy, he had a wand, he knew how to use it. Ugh, Ron grimaced at the involuntary innuendo of his thoughts
(harry and friends go to see Rocky Horror - in costume)
"'In just seven days, I can make you a man,'" sang Harry as he pulled on his baby blue sweater vest.
At his side, Draco, who was gussied up in a pink skirt and jacket with a quaint white hat perched on his curled white-blond locks, muttered, "You're quite wrong. You've made me a girl, and it only took half an hour."
"Stop staring at my cleavage," snapped Hermione at the twins. George whistled.
"Yeah, stop staring at her cleavage," glared Ron.
"That Janet has better hair then I do," muttered Draco, quite self-consciously.
"But you've got much better legs than her."
(omg too funny)
"Look!" Seamus pointed to a single caped figure, who was slowly walking up to the front of the theater, dark hair a-curl, silver collar sparkling on his cape. A steady drum beat ensued.
"Who is it?" Ron leaned eagerly forward.
Hermione was studying the figure carefully. Janet fainted on screen.
The crowd was going wild as the man, Dr. Frank N. Furter, began to sing. The man, whose mouth was black and sparkling and full, face white and eyebrows dark and arched, painted on most obviously.
"I'm just a sweet transvestite!" he mouthed along with the movie Frank, and threw off the glittering cape to reveal a string of the largest pearls Harry had ever seen, a sparkling corset, fingerless gloves, a skimpy black pair of underwear which revealed every curve of his body, garters hooked to fishnets, and the most stunning pair of heels imaginable.
Draco looked thoroughly perplexed.
Harry was staring at the tiny black bikini underwear.
Seamus was shouting and clapping.
Hermione screamed again.
"IT'S PROFESSOR SNAPE!"
That caused their entire row to stop, stare at Hermione all at once, then look at the stage again. Sure enough, amazingly enough, Hermione was entirely correct. The hook nose, greasy hair which was manipulated into a shorter, curly bunch, the thin lips puckered and covered in black glitter gloss, the arching brow... it *was* their beloved Potions Master himself, Severus Snape, gyrating his slim hips in a smooth and sexy manner, a transformed man. The entire audience, save their row, was going absolutely wild over the performance. Harry was transfixed by the usually hollow eyes glittering with life.
And Snape knew every movement, every word, every facial expression, strutting back and forth and perching precariously over a makeshift chair, crossing his amazingly great legs carelessly.
"Oh, that is... just wrong in so many ways..." Ron was muttering.
I'll let you feel up on my nonexistent boobs," offered Draco
That'll do for tonight. Perhaps I'll add more tomorrow if I feel like it.