Two boys in a snake den

Live and let die

Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room contemplating his day. It felt strange to be in friendly cahoots with Malfoy, exposed penis aside he'd never revealed much of himself to the platinum blonde albino white pale boy. 

He sat in his favourite plushy chair while Neville was busy auctioning off a goblin crafted dildo on the other side of the room, so far Parvati was winning with her bid of 150 Galleons. 

"I'll give you £151 and my lucky Sickle!" Yelled Seamus, who was currently sporting a bunny tail after his last frenzy with Dean in the quidditch supply cupboard.

"Sorry Seamus, the gold reacts badly with animal fur, it's funny actually since rabbit skin is less plagued with the common dandruff of cats or dogs but more affiliated with-"

"Longbottom, shut your chubby ass gob. Can I use the dildo as a rabbit or not?"

"Not, I'm afraid."

"Fine. What about a horse?"

"No way."

"A hippo?"

"What the actual fu-"

"Okay, I'll withdraw my bid. For now." Said Seamus, eyes thinning at all the other bidders. Harry sighed, he was so sick of rooming with randy teenagers. He decided to go to bed early and sleep off the strangeness of his day.

Yes, a nice sleep would do him good. And possibly a quick hit of his custom designed gillyweed bong.

He stepped into his red and gold dorm room, already removing his underwear when he came across an indescribable atrocity!

(well not like properly indescribable because I'm actually about to describe it for you but he's really shocked so that's all you need to know xxx)

Hermione, neck bound to his bedpost by a leather leash, was frantically humping his pillows while barking in a scarily accurate canine fashion, all while a lingerie-clad Professor Dumbledore stood snapping pics on a Fujifilm polaroid camera.

"Professor!" Harry gasped, astounded at this disgusting, inappropriate display, which was unnatural and wrong for one very obvious reason; "I thought you were gay!"

Dumbledore chuckled, "Why yes young Harry, I was a profound homosexual in my day and of course I regularly frequent Professor Flitwick's office for some good old fashioned frolicking, but the kids are all experimenting these days so I thought; why not? Plus these will fetch a pretty penny for 'Witch weekly', let alone the sum I'll get from 'milk the mage', 'wanking wizards', 'spunky spectacle' and of course 'the daily prophet'."

Harry sighed. "I'd like to sleep now if that's okay with you."

Dumbledore nodded. "I understand. Though I do believe these would earn us all some wonga if they featured the chosen one." He said with a wink.

Harry smiled. "You do flatter me sir, but I couldn't."

xxxxxxxx The next day xxxxxxxx

Dear diary, 

It's me again, Draco. But of course, you knew that (I'm just stating it obviously so the readers understand the perspective switch because I underestimate everyone's intelligence on a daily basis.)

This morning I was flipping through the 'Daily prophet' and came across a rather interesting photograph of Potter. Well, his arsehole anyway. Granger was lurking somewhere in the background petting her cat (and I don't mean Crookshanks. Wink Wink. God, I'm so fucking funny.) They even drew a small lighting shaped scar by Potter's hole, I assume so the readership knew it was him, but I would recognise that dark cave anywhere. Get your mind out of the gutter, I'm definitely not gay! Getting a teeny tiny boner over Gilderoy Lockhart's smutty appearance in the on-screen Japanese horse-porn fable '60 shades of hay' doesn't count. What I mean to say is Potter's nudes got leaked aeons ago so I see the newspaper clipping of his hole almost daily anyway. I say almost because I get a fresh copy mailed to me every other hour by a cheap subscription site but I don't always open them, I'm not a weirdo.

But all that's irrelevant. What you want to hear about I'm sure is my mission to learn Parseltongue. Well you'll be pleased to hear I've already given up. That slut Nagini is a waste of my time and father is dead. I should live and let die. But I am going to keep turning up to Potter's lessons. We're sort of half friends now which is all grand and dandy I suppose, but I do often have the urge to make him so angry that he slams me into a wall and wraps his lovely calloused hands around my throat to breathe his hot treacle breath all over my face. I suppose I've still not let go of our old grudge, but surely time will heal all wounds.

Anyway, I've got to go, Pansy's coming over to do facemasks. My skin is less than optimal due to these stressful past few months, made even more stressful by my mother's approaching wedding to the skinny whore raisin. 

I'll write soon, I promise. And if I don't I'm probably just doing straight guy things, y'know like punching minorities and promoting misogyny, that kind of thing.

Hugs and hetero kisses, Draco.